dire febigli Register
Ii published in the Borough of Allentown,
Lehigh County, Pa., every Wednesday, by
RUNES & DIEFENDERFER,
At $1 50 per annum, payable in advance, and
$2 00 if not paid until the cud of the year.—
No paper discontinued until all arrcarages are
paid.
fia - Orincr, in Hamilton street, two doors vvet
tho German Reformed Church, directly oppo-.
alto Moser's Drug Store.
. CU - Letters on business must bo POST Pall),
otherwise they will not be attended to.
JIB PRINTING.
Having recently added a largo assortment of
fashionable and most modern styles of type, we
are prepared to execute, at short notice, all
kind's of Book, Job, and Fancy Printing.
fortiral.
THE PRINTER.
Among tale rank of human kind
Some go before and some behind,
But mind them well and you will find,
Not hindermost is the Puninat.
The lessons which you learn at school,
That you might not grow up a fool,
Had all, in scientific rule,
Been published by the PRINTER.
How do your Presidents and Kings
Govern so many thousand things !
'Tis by the xrPizs the screws and springs
Belonging to the PHINTIGH.
The farmer and the mechanic too.
Would sometimes scarce know what to do,
Could they not get a certain view
Of work done by the Purina.
The doctor cannot meet the crooks
Of all his cases till he looks .
Upon the pages of the books
Supplied him by the PIUNTEIL
The lawyer for a wit has passed:
But high as he his head may cast,
Ile mould be but a dunce at last,
Were it not for the PRINTER.
Who is it that so neatly tells,
The various goods the merchant sells,
Inviting all the beaux and belles 1
Who is it but the llntsrmt.
The. classes of the human race,
Of dit&rent size, of different face,
Appears in this and every place—
Vow obvious to the PRINTER.
One sings the bass on sharps and flats,
Bedecked with pantaloons and hats,
And longtailed coats, and smooth cravats,
Of this class is the PRINTER.
The other sings the fable sweet,
Adorned with frodks and bonnet neat
And look ! how beauteous and complete,
And lovely to the PRINTER.
'Tis hymen's will or course you know,
These classes should in couples go,
And since, the world will have it so.
So he it, says the Paistmt.
There's not a man below the skies,
Who better understands to prize
The charm that graces a lady's eyes,
Than tiqes this very PatszEit.
Young maidens then, Av it hou t debate,
'Tis hoped you'll duty estimate,
Before in fact it be too late,
The value of the PRINTER.
(Capital Stoll.
THE PAWNED RING.
Br MISS HARRIET N. lIATRAIVAT
" And so Gertrude, you promise solemnly
before God, that this ring, you will regard as an
inviolable pledge of our mutual constancy !
That though long years may intervene ere we
look upon each other, it shall be to you a sacred
memento of our plighted vows, and that nothing
shall induce you to part with it."
" I do Frederic," w•as the trembling response
of the beautiful maiden, while the burning tears
stole fast from the heavily fringed lids that
shaded her large, spiritual eyes, and dropped
upon the costly signet that encircled the taper
Pure-finger of her small, delicate hand. "As
often as I look 'upon it," she continued, "a
prayer shall ascend to Heaven for your prosper
ityrilid that you may be granted a safe and
c-sfeedy return to the home of your childhood.
But, should adverse fates attend you, and delay
your coming, still nest to my Maker, will I
cherish your image in my heart, and no other
object shall have power to supplant it."
" Maven bless you, my own, my beautiful
' Gertrude, for those effeering words! The
thought of them will enable me to toil on, and
sufer, if it needs be. until I attain to that posi
tion in life which will satisfy even the ambitious
desires ofyour fond father. Then, on the wings
of love, I will hasten to lay all my laurels' at
your feet, and claim you as my beautiful bride.
You smile mournfitlly, Gertrude, but I feel con-
fident ofsnccess. H ven ever helps thoss who
are willing to ph>iemselves." • w.
One hour from the time of the above cons et.
satiou, Gertrude 'Wilder stood alone on the bal
cony of her father's proud mansion, gazing with
tearful eye upon the broad *ante of blue water
that gashed and sparkled in the sunlight, as
though it were constantly casting up firom its
depths countless myriads of dazzling and star
like gems, that fin. a moment gleamed on its
=Ace, and then sank to their 'ocean beds, to
give place fix others more brilliant, if such there
could be.
A noble ship lay in the offing. Scarce a
breath of air filled the sails, which hung lazily
troll thi yards. All hands were on board. and
orreirthinc seemed to be in readiness lbr a start.
g am a I , _
,breeze - swept by them. tiP-
1122.10:1f . R 13.011111
~®
Drutrit to Worn( 6ttirral 311 ram, Igtirulturr, EaraMt!, Iniustmtnt, 311arketo, err. , &-r
VOLUME IX.
Ilike the broad wings of an ocean bird, as though
impatient to be free. Now the anchor was
weighed, and onward through the sparkling
foam, swept the " huge floating cradle," like a
thing of life.
Gertrude stood with fixed eyes, and hands
tightly clasped over her heart, as though she
would fain still its tumultuous throbbings. She
did not once change her position, until the ship
had disappeared in the dim distance.
Now that Frederic Glenwood had gone, past
recalling, the excitement that had sustained her
during the painful parting gave way, and the
feelings of her anguished soul found vent in
burning tears, and heart-rending sobs. Bitter
forebodings came stealing over her. Four years
was a long time ! and as she reflected upon it,
she asked herself the questions : " Will he
ever return ? may he not make his graVe in a
foreign land, with no friendly hand to smooth '
his pillow, or minister to him the consolations
of our holy religion in the last trying hour, or
to close his eyes in death ? These thoughts
were too bitter to be long dwelt upon.
" Weak girl that I am !" sbe exclaimed,
" thus to distrust Providence. Heaven surely
will protect one so good and virtuous as Fred
eric Glenwood ; and this hope shall cheer me on
in the performance of every duty."
One year from the time of Frederic Glen
wood's departure, Gertrude Wilder sat alone,
under the shade of an old oak tree that for
nearly a century had spread its broad arms, as
though offering shade and protection from the
scorching rays of the summer's sun to those who
chose to avail themselves (zit.
The gorgeous drapery of clouds that the s'
in its departure had left behind him—the warb
ling of the birds that flitted from bough to
bough—thegolden fruit that hung so temptingly
.'ram the branches, well-nigh ready to break
with their precious weight—the sweet perfume
of the many rare flowers, that were scattered in
rich profusion around. were all unheeded by
Gertrude. Tn her hand she held a small casket
and her eyes were steadily fixed upon the ring
—the parting gift of Frederic Glenwood. Tn
fancy, she agairi %vas listening to his " vows of
love and constancy." A sweet smile stole over
her face, and taking the sparkling jewel from its
hiding place, she was in the act of pressing it
to her lips, when an approaching step was
heard. Hastily thrusting it into the tiny casket
she concealed it. in the folds of her dress.
"Mc daughter," said Mr. Wilaer, as he
seated himself on the rustic bench by her side.
and caressingly smoothed her dark, glossy
curls. I atu'glad to find you here, and alone
as I have something of importance to say to
you. It is of Frederic Glenwood• I would
speak. I have for a long time watched your
growing indifference to him, and am glad that
you have at last wholly overcome your roman
tic attachment, to one so far your inferior, in
birth and fortune. Out of respect to your
feelings, I have thus long forborne to mention
what were my wishes, in regard of your settle•
meat in, lire. Gustavus Murray, as you well
know, has long loved you, devotedly. and now,
that there is no obstacle in the way, I trust you
will at once accedo to my Wishes, by receiving .
his addresses."
" Never ! father. never !" were the words
that escaped the ashy lips of Gertrude.
" Gertrude !" said Mr. Wilder, in a stern
voice, while his whole frame trembled with
suppressed emotions. " I entreat—nay. more,
I command you to comply with my request,
or—"
" Stay ! father, stay ! hZar the for one mo-
ment !" crietl the agonized girl. Have I not
ever been a dutiful daughter ?"
" Yes, Gertrude : all that a fond father's
heart could wish. But now, in my declining
years, you deny me the long cherished wish of
•
my heart, simply to gratify a foolish passion
It
" In anything else, father, will I gladly obey
you. But in this ono thing I cannot. I dare
not, dearly as I love you, perjure my own soul,
by breaking the vow made in the presence of
high Heaven, to lea none other save Frederic
Glenwood."
" Not another word, unless you would drive
me mad," exclaimed Mr. Wilder, as he pressed
his hands to his temples. " I give you till to
morrow morning to decide. Should you then
be of thei same mind that you tire now, my roof
shall no longer shelter you, and s father's curse
shall fotlow you, as you go forth alone and un
protected into the world."
When Mr. Wilder had uttered these words,
he stalked into the house, leaving Gertrude to
commune with her own bitter thoughts, How
like adream seemed the events of the last few
moments ! She could scarce convince herself of
her father's sanity. How could it be that one
Co habitually gentle and kind, should now ap
petit so cruel and dictatorial ? 'Would he in
deed send her forth from her childhood's home,
alone into the cold, friendless world ? No—no !
it could not be ! It, was too dreadthl to think
IVAM3III CVBIII4II-111&112Mill 111 Tait34l.3M
ALLENTOWN, PA., NOVEMBER 29,
the monotonous sound of her father's footsteps.
as ho paced the floor of the apartment beneath
hers, would have prevented her doing so. It
was evident to her mind that ho was laboring
under some strong excitement of feeling—some
thing of a more serious nature than the disap
pointment occasioned by her refusing to accede
to his wishes. But what it was, she could not
even conjecture.
At an earl• hour in the morning her mother
entered her chamber. Her face wore a:pale and
haggard expression. and traces of tears were
visible upon her cheek.
" GeerOde. my child," she said, in a low,
sad tone, as' she seated herself by her side and
clasped her trembling hand in her own, " I
grieve to pain you, by an allusion to the un
pleasant events of yesterday. But your father
wishes to learn what is your decision."
"0, mother, mother ! do not mock my mis
ery. I did not think that you, too, would ask
me to make the dreadful sacrifice," cried the
agonized girl. " Dearly as I love my early
home, and sweetly' sacredas are the ties that
bind me to it, I would sooner resign them all,
than break my long cherished vows."
" I appreciate your feelings, my child, as only
a mother can. I know the sacrfice you are now
Called to make is heart-rending. But ere you
decide, let me ask you one question. your
own happiness dearer to you than tllgt of your
parents ? Your father is now on the verge of
bankruptcy, and by becoming the wife of Gus
tavus Murray, you can save him from so direful
a calamity.''
" Mother, allow . me till to-night, to decide,"
were the words that fell from the pale, unquiv
ering lips of the suffering girl. " I would be
alone until then."
Words would be too cold and common place,
to portray the anguish that filled MI s-Wilder's
soul as she turned to leave Gertrude. Every
reason that could be adduced had she urged up
on her husband. to influence him if Possible to
revoke his decision. But the proud man was
inexorable. Ambition was the reigning motive
in his heart, and rather than bear the stigma
attached to the name of a bankrupt, he would
sell the hoppiness of his daughter. Still, it
had cost him many a heart struggle, to come to
is decision
Some three months after the above conversa-
tion, had one looked into Gertrude's apartment,
they might have seen •her gazing with listless
eye upon the costly bridal paraphernalia scat•
erect around her
the long flowinF, veil. and the bandeau of pearls.
were but splendVd mockeries of her misery. In
a few weeks she was to yield her hand, unac-
companied by her heart, to Gustavus Murray.
And he was knowing to the dreadful struggle it
had cost her, to come to this de.;ision. • Had it
not been revealed to him in words, he could not
have failed to have read it. in the heavy, tearful
eye, the sunkewcheek, and the altered demeanor
of his affianced bride. But what mattered all
this to him, as long as his own selfish ends were
attained ?
A blighting scourge swept orer the city of.
L—. High and low, rich and poor, young and'
old, all alike paid tribute to it. Death is a
strange leveller of rank and distinctions !
A solemn stillness reigned about the dwelling
of Mr. Milder. The lightly closed -Shutters,
and the ominous badge of crape which muffled
the knocker of the street door, told too plainly
that they had not been passed by during the
direful visitation.
Gertrude Wilder, in company with her only
brother, were bend over the dying couch of their
father. In a distant apartment their idolized
mother lay, clad, in the habiliments of the
grave. What a change one short week had
wrought !
"Gertrude, my child." murmured the father,
as he turned his eyes, already clouded with the
films of death upon her, " I am dying ! Say that
you forgive my unkindness to you, so that I
may die in peace."
" Deer father." saki Gertrude, as she pressed
her lips upon his cold, clammy brow, " I do--
all, all is forgiven."
Scarce had these words passed her lips, when
Mr. Wilder sank lifeless upon his pillow. With
hearts filled to bursting, Henry and Gertrude
Wilder closed the eyes of the dear departed, and
then sought the solitude of theirown apartments
to indulge in a sorrow too sacred for stranger
eyes to look upon.
The hour arrived for them to, consign the re
mains of their loved ones to their " last. long
resting place." 0, how fully they realized the
depth of their bereavement, as they heird the
cold, damp clods rattling upon their parents'
coins.! What a weight of anguish filled their
souls, as tbey returned to their now lonely home!
How everything reminded them of the bitter loss
they had sustained ! The solemn stillness that
filled each apartthent—the vacant seats—the
articles of clothing scattered here and there—all
served to impress home the sadlruth that they
were orphans.
Henry Wilder fbund upon a:mining into hi&
The unsullied satin robe
months after their parents' death, their beauti
ful home had passed into the hands ofstrang,ers,
and shortly after this Henry and Gertrude left
the place of their nativity for a city, in a distant
part of the State in which to reside.
But my reader may ask, " where was Gusta
vus Murray all this time."
Although Mr. Wilder in his last sickness would
gladly have seen his daughter freed from the
contract of marriage between Gustavus and her
self, he felt that the affair had been carried too
far to be treated thus lightly. Therefore he
still urged upon her the necessity of her giving
him her hand, at the appointed time. But this
was not to be.
With a slight explanation, Gustavus had for
saken her in the hour of her deep affliction, to
bask neath the smiles of a young and beautiful
lady, who was possessed of a queenly fortune.
With these alltifing prospects before him, what
to him was the grief stricken and portionless
maiden ?
But, did Gertrude murmur at his inconstan
cy ? Ko ! If ever a prayer of Warm thanks
giving ascended to llcaven from her heart, it
was in the hour that revealed this truth to her.
It seemed to her like a special interposition of
Providence in her behalf.
On the second floor of a large and imposing
block of buildings, standing in one of the prin
cipal business streets of the beautiful city of
H—, were a suite of apartments which were oc
cupied by professional characters. In ono of
these a young painter had sat, day after day,
vainly waiting for employment. Months had
flown by, and still his merits, which were not
inferior, remained unknown and unappreciated.
At the time we speak of, he was seated be
fore his easel. The care-worn expression of his
usually pale face was relieved by a radiant smile
that ever and anon played around his finely
turned mouth. Suddenly springing to his feet,
and brushing aside the damp, clustering locks
that shaded his pale, intellectual brow, he ex
claimed, with enthusiasm :
•. It is completed at last ! and it more than
equals my most sanguine expectation's ! If it
but as folly equals my hope. - -:, I shall no longer
remain neglected and unknown. Heaven grant
that in this, my last resource, I may not be
doomed to cruel disappointment."
A large collection of choice, paintings was_on
exhibition. Painters, sculptors, engravers,
poets and authors, were seen among the dense
crowd that thronged the pliblic gallery. The
wealth and elite of the city were there represent
ed. The merchant, the mechanic, and the day
laborer, were there too. The farmer, in his
coarse ". kersey," took his station complacently
by the side of the proud " millionaire," in his
• sleek, glossy broadcloth, anti the maiden, in her
cheap chintz, faded shawl, and coarse straw
hat, claimed as. good a place as the fine lady
robed in silks anti satins. Perchance, the for
mer had a mind formed to appreCiate more fully
the " sublime and beautiful" in art, as well as
in nature, than the latter: This‘we know, that
our Heavenly Parent bestows on his children a
diversity of gifts. One is distinguished for good
ness, another for intellect, another for beauty,
another for wealth, and still another for fame.
Many rare and lifelike productions had'been
displayed to the admiring gaze of the specta
tors. The drapery that shaded the only re
maining palming was lifted, the subject of
which was the " Maid of the Wreck." A noble
ship lay partially dismasted. The wild, mug;
ing waves threatened each moment to engulf
the fated craft. The red-forked lightning gleam
ed from the black-clouds that shrouded the sky
in portentous darkness. Funereal gloom brood
ed around. A maiden stood alone on the deck
'of the vessel.• Her white robe fluttered in the
wind, and her long, raven hair streamed in wild
confusion about her neck and shoulders. Her
hands were clasped over her breast, and her
beautiful, 'Madonna'-like face was upturned to
heaven. One could almost imagine they heard
the breathing words that escaped her pale, part
ed lips, as now that human aid could avail her
nought; she commended her soul to her Maker.
It was indeed a thrilling scene, and the effect
upon the audience was for a moment quite over
powering. The piece was decided by universal
acclamation, to bo the finest specimen of the Art
that had been exhibited.
A thrilling cry rang through the gallery. and
a young man who had stood partially concealed
behind a column, fell fainting the floor. Had
my readers but seen him, they would doubtless
have recognized in his lofty brow. and pale.
sunken face, the artist to whom they have been
previously introduced.
' It was nearing uightflill, when the young pain
ter left his studio, and wended his way home-
ward. Es step was quicker and more unsteady
than was wont. UM large eyes beamed with
an almost unearthly light,•and his usually pale
cheek were an unnatural flush. Ever and anon
he would lift bit velvet cap from his brow; and
press hithands upon his burning temples. AC
tar t walk Of mlla and a • • •
" Gertrude, my own dear sister," exclaimed
Henry Wilder—for it was he—as he rushed in
to the room, where a pale girl wes seated,
"Heaven has at last crowned my efforts with
success ! I rejoice more fur your sake. than my
own, for now you will not be obliged to toil for
your daily bread. 0, bitterly has my heart
ached, to see one reared so tenderly as you have
been, doomed to such cruel servitude !"
The brother and sister sat until a late hour.
communing with each other. It was well for
them that they could not see the dark cloud
that was even then hovering over them.
That night lights were seen glancing to and
fro in the cottage, and before morning Henry
Wilder was suffering under a violent attack of
brain fever.
Many long, weary days, did Gertrude watch
by the bedside of her only brother. What a
weight of agony pressed upon her heartxlien
the thought came home that h' , emu !
But God in mercy spared her this trial.
His recovery was slow in the extreme. Days
wore into Weeks, weeks into months, and yet
he did not seem disposed to attend to his busi
ness. Gertrude sometimes wondered at this, as
he frequently received offers of employment.—
Occasionally she would in a gentle way hint
that, it might be better for him if his mind had
some healthy employment. But he studiously
evaded answering at 'such times. Hour after
hour he would sit, gazing listlessly at some ob
ject. Books, which had ever been one of his
greatest sources of happiness.. were entirely
neglected by him. His step was uncertain, and
when he walked into the garden, as he some
times did, he had a groaning way, quite unlike
his former self. There was a strange vacancy
in his eye, as he gazed into Gertrude's face, that
would send the warm blood curdling round her
heart. She dared not ask herself the meaning
of all this. A strange foreshadowing of evil
seemed to opprs her.
" Dear brother," said Gertrude. one after
noon, as she was seated at her sewing. " will
you not read aloud a few passages from this ,
book of sweet poems ? I find so little time for
such purposes, it would really be quite a treat;
Iknry, thus kindly urged, seemed not to
know how to refuse. He took the offered book.
A wild cry of anguish rang through the apart
ment, as the volume fell from his trembling
hand. A moment of silence ensued. Then
with the calmness of despair, he said :
" Gertrude, it is as I have long feared ! My
sight is leaving me !"
This was indeed true. Day by day the
shadow deepened around him, shutting out from
his vision the blessed sunlight of heaven, the
green fields and the painted dowers. lie could
not even distinguish the features of Gertrude,
upon which he had so loved to gaze. His heart
at times rebelled at this mysterious dispensa
tion of Providence. Was it strange that it
should ?
It was evening, and Gertrude sat alone in her
small, and dimly-lighted chamber. On the lit
tle pine table before her stood the casket con
taining the diamond ring presented her by Fred
eric Glenwood. As the rays from the light fell
upon it, the costly stones seemed to emit flashes
of more than wonted brilliancy.
" It must be so," at length soliloquized tho
maiden. " Frederic Glenwood has forgotten
me. For one long, weary year, I have waited
to receive some testimony that he still cherishes
the memory of his early love—but 'in vain
This ring is the dearest memento of former hap
piness that I posies,:," she continued, as she
drew it from its ease, and pressed it Wildly to
her lips, " but I must part with it. A brother's
happiness demands the sacrifice, and it shall be
done. The physician tells me, that by the aid
of some skilful optician his sight may be re
stored, and I ought not to hesitate a moment
between duty and inclination."
The next morning at an early hour Gertrude
attired herself he her coarse hat, and faded
shawl, and bent her way to a pawn-broker's
establishment. In her hand she held the casket
that contained the ring, but she dared not trust
herself to look upon lb. lest she might waver in
her purpose. With hesitating step, she entered
the shop, and placing the open casket upon the
counter, inquired of the broker what he would
allow her for the ring.
As the man's gaze rested on the brilliant
stones, which were Hashing and sparkling in the
sunlight, a peculiar smile swept over his face,
and his dull, gray eyes lighted with a significant
expression, as ho exclaimed, half aloud, and
half whispering:
" Ah, I see diamond of the first water'!
Tip-top article, that." Then raising his eye to
the pale;eorroivful face of Gertrude, he looked
intently upon her. Gradually, the bard linos
about his mouth relaxed, his gray eye softened,
and in an altered tone, he said: • •
" Very fine ring. that, young madam ! Lodi
to part with it. I suppose. Poverty'fi,a hard
task-master—l've proved that myself. Com",
give mo a bit of your *atom a n d =Asti I osa.
NUMBER 9.
r Five years had elapsed since Frederic Glen-.
i wood's departure from his childhood's home and:
now again he trod his native soil. A golden,
harvest of.success had crowned his efforts, and.
he had returned to enjoy it.
A sweet girl was Myra Cleveland !" So.
thought Frederic) Glenwood, as he daily mingledi
in her society. She reminded him of Gertrude
Wilder—the same winning ways—the samegen
.tle tones, and the same faultless proportions..
Those who were most intimately acquauted with•
them said the fair girl was fast weaving a spell
around his heart. Was it so ? Time will prove !
One day while visiting Myra, his attention
was attracted by a ring,which had been thought
lessly left lying upon the table. To satisfy his
curiosity, he took it in his hand .to examine it.
Suddenly his &co was overspread with a. death
like pallor. .13 ruing thoughts rushed through , ,
his bosom, as looked u the jewel that
gleamed in light- i-e fire. Twas the identical
ring that he placed upon Gertrude Wilder's fin
ger so many long years before.
" Myra," said he, when ho had recovered
himself, " if you will not deem it presumptuous
in me, I would like to know how this ring cams
into your possession ?"
Tll
him t
! who • nd that
it from a n-brOterrin the distant
In compliance with his request, Fry
granted a private interview with the
the ring, who informed him there
a touching story connected with IL
She then proceeded to say, that it had for•
nierly belonged to a poor, but beautifill girl, who
had sacrificed it, in order that her blind brother
Might receive medical aid. That the kind
hearted broker, who related these incidents -to
her, assured her that every farthing he should
receive for the ring, should go to the young
lady. Also, that she had paid somewhat over •
its value, in order that such virtuous self-denial:
should not go entirely unrewarded.
Reader mine, with your consent wo will in ,
our mind's eye onco more enter Gertrude Wil
der's childhood's Iltme.
What means it that we look upon so many
" old, familar faces, in the brilliantly lighted
halls !" In the centre of the apartment we see
Frederic Glenwood—the present owner of the
mansion—and leaning upon his arm, is Gertrude
Wilder. By their side, and in • the same atti
tude, stand henry Wilder and Myra Cleveland.
At the right hand of the group are the broker. •
and the lady who purchased from him the ring,
that now flashes and sparkles upon the fore
' anger of Gertrude's hand. Ever and anon a'
tear steals down the broker's care-worn face, as.
the man of God" proceeds to pronounce the
words that unite the future destinies of the .
young beings before him. But we can see by
the smile of satisfaction that plays around his
nibuth, that they are not tears of sorrow. His
heart is overflowing with• gratitude. towards•
Frederic Glenwood, who has, in consideration .
of his kindness to Gertrude, in the hour other
trouble, placed him in a business that yields a'•
sufficient income to raise him and - his &milt
above the harrassing cares attendant upon pov
erty.
As Gertrude's eye wanders from the face of
her husband, to that other brother who is
now rejoicing bathe blessing of sight restored.•
owing to a liattri's self-denial—the sweet " dote.
of Pear.? " nestles lovingly in her bosom.•
fjt7The following illustrates pretty well how
most people are obliged to answer gnostical,
about the Know• Nothings :
" Ilauns, what you tink of der Know.Nud;•
ings ?"
" hell not know."
"Sell, cot does you tink I"
" I tink nutting."
"By tarn, dat is shust rot I Unica."
0:7"A Yankeo thus describes the exCeill - et
his devotion to his truo love :
" I sing her praise in poetry:
•
For her at morn and rive,
I cries whole pints of bitter tears;
And wipes them off with' my sletro."
[l - A poor fellotv having. got his skull trao:e
tured, was told by the docter that the briln•
was visible, on which he remarked, " Derwrite
to tell father, fbr he always swote ihidtione."
•'
CU' Don't hurry,", exclaimed. the nun who'
was viing to be hung, to'the ciotrd that Allow. -
ed him, " there'll,be no flux' I get there.?t,
11.7 MINE GOT ! Tot Via lie Fre . nehmen make
next—as the Dutchman• said the first time he
saw a monkey. .
11:nhere is no four of knowing too tnnoh.•
though there is great Char in praotioing.too
tie.
.The molt doing man shall bw * the most
knowing nun:
11:7Woor your learuiugElike yoUrlrstoi. tai
privata Pocket, ond don't pull. it out, txkol. tor
that, palm* 0641 ; but if. oOttri.trh4
o'olock•it los taltit:
and her burning tears fell thick . and fast. Slie
felt that she could not deny the broker's request.
and as briefly as possible, she repeated sualltpor
tions of her history as the occasion called for. •
" I'll tell you what I'll do fir you." said the•
broker, drawing his rough hand across his.oyos.
" I'll advance you half the value of the ring,
and hold it in readiness for you, in case you.
should call ibr it before I dispose of it. I prom.
iso you I will not part with it for one cent lest.
than its value, and whatever I receive shall be.
yours—every farthing of it. I'd willingly do.
more for you, but Ere a large family to support,.
and I sometimes find it rather tight work get
ting along, in this rough and tumble world."
An hour after no one would have dreamed.
had they looked into the pawn-broker's shop,
that there was so much of the milk cf human.
kindness in the heart of the hard looking broker.
young lady thus interrogated, inflamed:
iat it was the property of a wealthy lady
vis4ing, them ) ; e purchased.
ity of ll—.
erie was
owner of
- as quite
ICI
MEM