........ , .. IL- 4 . , .....• ,:.. .:,... .. i ,„ ._ ....,.. ...... ... ~,,.. :..,,.. ~.... ... 11. :, . .._, .:•jz.4•••;4T--•• •• •: :2--,:'o• ' • ", •; . ;,,;;;_0;.: , :••!:', -JC•A: , , . . _ Aat alialltlLZ 3 iiCt)24 . l7 R ST4 .1 41 Q 12 a l N . _ : Le 4 ir TP, vcr..t. et. weit.Q*: `cf.- g,e.J-71:: VOLUME X. 33 i i'tllllni ti~~ THE COQUETTE. Ada Glenn had been a sad trifler in her lime. Her chief pleasure seemed to be in extorting itdmiration front the other six, and then sport ing with the feeling she had awakened. In at least half a dozen instances young men had been encouraged to pay her attentions fur monthS at a time, and when, confident of bay ing won her regard, they came forward with serious ofli•rs of marriage, she cast them off with an indifference that was most mortifying and painful. But, like most of those who play this game with the feelings of others, Ala was made to taste a cup as bit ter as any mixed by her hands for the lips of her victims. A young physician, named fledford, whose prospects in life were much better than are usually presented to the eyes of graduates in his profession, met Ada one evening, and teas ex ceedingly pleased with her—and no less pleased was Ada with the young physician.. A wish to make a good impression, added to her usual habit of putting on her best grace when in com pany With young men, made Ada more than usually interesting: and when Dr. Bedford separated from the bewitching- young girl, he was completely enamored. 1k touk an early opportunity to call upon her, and was received in a manner that encouraged him to repeat his visits. Never were visi's more agreeable to any one than were those of Dr. Bedford to Ada Glemi. But the old spirit had not died out, and, really flattered as she was by the young man's atten tions, Ada was tempted to give him a specimen of her power and independence. No very long time elapsed ere Dr. &Mind laid his heart at Ada's feet. With a thrill of pleasure could she have accepted the proffered offer of love ; but, to yield at once, seemed like becoMing too easy a prize ; and she therefore affected profound astonishment at the doctor's proposal ; treated it rather lightly, and deeldy wounded his natural sensitive and indepenthnt feelings, by too marked an exhibition of disdain. • 1)r. B. retired, with his mind in a fever of excitement. Ilis admiration of, and love for Ada, had been of the warmest character.— Judging from her manner, he felt warranted in believing that the regard he had for her was fully reciprocated ; and when he approached her with a confession of what was in his heart. he was prepared for any reception but the one he received. To be repulsed then—coldly. proudly, and almost contemptuously—was to receive a blow of the severest kind, and one. the pain , of whicli he was not likely soon to forget. From the dwelling of Ada, Dr. Bedford re tired to his own with his mind grealty excited There he found a young friend, with whom he was intimate, and to whom, as ho could not hide his feelings, he communicated in confi tiollee the restilt of his- interview with Ida.:— To his surprise, the friend said. " T can hardly pity you. doctor. I saw you were pleased with that gay flirt, who is faQinating enough ; but I did not dream that you were serious in your attentions to one known everywhere as n heartless coquette." Dr, Bedford loobed surprised. " At:e you in earnest. ?" he said. •' In earnest ? Certainly ! Did*nt you know that was her character.?" " I had not the most remote suspicion," re. plied Dr.. Bedford. " Strange that it shouldn't have come to your ears !" said his friend. " I can point you to three that she has jilted within my own knowledge." " If that is her character," said the doctor, rallying himself with a strong efilmt of self con trol, and speaking in a composed and resolute voice, " I will at once obliterate her image from my mind. It is unworthy to rest there. I did not love Ada, but a fair ideal of womanly vir tue that I vainly believed she embodied." " You are right," replied his friend.. She is not worthy of you—beautiful, intelligent and interesting as she is." " She is utterly unworthy," said the doctor. " Fortunate am I that she did not accept my offer." It required, on the part of Ada; a strong ef fort to assume towards Dr. Bedford a false ex terior, and when he withdrew from her pre sence, composed and dignified in his manner, she more than half regretted her folly. But she forced back this feeling with a gay smile and toss of the head, saying, half aloud, " be here again before a week goes by." • But Ada was slightly in error. The week passed without bringing her lover. And so went by two, three, and four weeks. But, vain of her power over the other sex, Ada still en deavored to maintain a confident spirit, though there were times when the sudden thought that Pr. Bedford would never again seek to win PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFITY CENTS PEE ANNUM her favor, made the blood, gather with a chill around her heart. About this time a friend gave a littlef ancy dress party, and Ada learned, much to her real delight, that the individual who, of all others; had struck her fancy, was to be present. This was to afford the first opportunity for meeting, since her half haughty repulse, the man who had offered. her, in all sincerity, a true loving heart. An overweening vanity made Ada con tblinit of het' power over the sterner sex; and she believed that only a slight yielding effort on her part was necessary to bring the doctor again to her side. Choosing her costume forth° evening ,Ada arrayed herself with great care, and in a style that she believed would attract attention. The fashion of her dress was that of a hundred years ago, and the material. a rich old brocade, in which her grandmother had danced the mieuet" many a time in her younger days. Calm in her conscious power, Ada joined the gay company at her friend's end her quick eve soon made known the fact that Dr. Bedford was already present. her heart beat quicker, and the color on her cheeks grew deeper ; but no one could rend in her well schooled face a trace of what was passing in her mind. No long time passed before the yoUng doctor was thrown near her—so near, that a sign of recog nition became necessary. Ile spoke to her, hut in a manner that sent a nervous chill to her heart. Not that he was studiedly polite or cold : not that he was resentment but in his eye, voice, face and manner, was a language she could read. and it told her that to him she was nn longer an object of interest. For this she was, of all things. least prennr ed. She hail never felt towards any one as she (lid towards this young man : and now, when the first well-grounded fear of losing him stole through her bosom, she became inwardly agi tated, and in spite of every effort to control herself, manifested to plainly the fact that she was ill at ease. Fancy parties were novelties at the time ; and all, except Ada, who usually led off on . festive occasions, entered into the . spirit of the hour. Even Dr. Bedford appeared' to enjoy himself as much as any. But the beautiful coquette. whose peculiar style or costume at tracted all eyes, had, for once lost the gay ex.- terior for which she was ever distinguised, and there were but few present by whom this was not remarked. Once or twice Ada was thrown directly into the company of Dr. Bedford, when he ,treated i2r with an ease and politeness that, more than I anything else, tended to extinguish the hope that had arisen into a flame in her heart.— Had be manifested any emotion, had he looked grave, troubled, indignant, proud, haughty I or anything else but calmly indifferent and self possessed, Ada would have felt sure , of her power over him. But a perception of the real truth was as distinct to her as if the most em phatic words, sealing her fate, had been utter ed in her ears. Ember than the rest Ada re tired. unable longer to control her-.'f as she could wish, and unwilling to exp.. .n eyes already observant, the change that had come over her feelings. From that hour, Ada Glenn ceased to be the gay. buoyant, attractive girl, who had ex ors ii admiration from so many, and trifled in her vain pride and thoughtlessnesS, with all.— She rarely went into company, and then her noble met left her usually in the back ground. The lived. belle, in 'Clew months ceased to at tract attention ; awl young men, who had been captives at her feet, wondered why she bads exercised such power over therm. As for Bedford he erred in believing that, with a single dash of ,the will, he had effected forev er the image of Ada from his mind. Wounded pride and honest indignation had raised him. in a moment, superior to the weakness of his ' nature. But a long period did not pass before ' line after line began to re-appear ; and, before i he was really aware of what was going on with ; in, he found himself gazing upon the image of the maiden distinct as ever upon his heart. This discovery, when first made, was far from being pleasant to the young man ; and he turned from the fair image with impatient scorn. But, turn which way he would, it was still be fore him. Occasionally he heard of Ada as . t greatly changed, and sometimes he was thrown into company With her, when the change was apparent to his own eyes.' These meetings, whenever they took place, left him in a musing,, sober state. 'There was something about Ada that still interested him, and when, as it mea -1 simially happened, he looked suddenly towards her, and met her eyes fixed intently upon him with a sad, earnest, tender look, ho had feelings that he was hardly able to understand. Thus. affairs progressed until unexpectedly the young couple found themselves brought to gether in a pie nic. Dr. Bedford was less dis pleased at this circumstance than he would have been a few months' earlier, but ho was careful not to throw himself purPosely in Ada's way, fqr his self-possession and cool Max- Allentown,. Pa., December 12, 1855. once, so far as she was concerned, no longer e%• fisted: The thought of her, even, had now power to disturb the pulsations of his heart. The pleasant day had drawn early to a close. Two or three times Bedford had been brought into such close contact with Ada, that he could not, without appearing rude, have avoided speaking a few words to her. On these occa sions she said little ; but it was impossible to help observing, in the manner of her replies, in tones and in the expression of her countenance, something that told him, as plain as language could have uttered it, that she deeply repented of her former conduct towards him. " It is too late," the young man said to him self with some bitterness of feeling, as he re flected upon what it was impossible not to per ceive. And even as he said this, there arose extenuating arguments in his mind that he in vain strove to expel. Disturbed by such thoughts and feelings Dr. Bedford wandered away from the gay party, and remained alone for nearly an hour. As lie returned. he came suddenly upon Ada, seated in it pensive attitude. just above a little dash ing waterfall, into which she was looking. She was so entirely lost in the scene—of, inore probably, in thoughts which it was impossible to drive out of her mind--that she did not ob. serve the young man's approach. Bedford paused suddenly and his first impulse was to re treat. But, not having suffi,:ient resolutionto do this, he, after a little hesitation, atlvancud, and when within a few paces, roused her from her reverie by a few lightly uttered words.-- Ada turned with a start, while a crimson man tkd her face. ft wa; s.me time before she could command herself Ft:fikkllt re!,ly with anything like composure, and even then her voice slightly trembled. Few• words passed between them, as, silo by side, they slowly returned to where they had left their companions, for both were afraid to trust themselves to speak. But that meeting had decided the fate of both. Before a week elapsed, Dr. DeVord, breaking through pride and every other restraining sentiment, visited Ada, and, before leaving her, renewed his offer of marriage, which was accepted amid a gush of joyful tears. Deeply had Ada sutf•red through her folly, and from her suffering she had come forth a puia, truer, and better w•o• BEE There ore a few like Ada : but rarely does the vain coquette escape with so brief a period of suffering. Usually, with her it is lifelong season of sorrow and repentance. After reject ing with heartless levity her worthy suitors, she yields her hand at last to the most unwor thy, and. unblessed by true affection, goeswear ily on her way thromo the world, glad when the hour comes in which she may lay down her burdens and find rest and peace in the quite BE EM 'l he bright,at day ramt wane, 'Um SW 'clebi now ers Rill wither Aud Friendship's golden chain, Death is bOOll to rover. I he oye with fond love beaming, The heart that knows no sorrow May soon with tears be teeming, And utt wish rack ccc morrow. The ono we love to-cla.:', Ero morning's bllll perith, And all those hopes decay Which fondly we do eherirh. Life is like an April day, A bubble on the river, Its eon and shower round us play, But coon arc gone forever.. Life In the North. On going out in the morning, the first breath ; you take gives a tickling sensation to the lungs —and you feel it clear through them, ns tho' you were breathing some exhilarating gas ; but after the first breath the lungs seem to I adapt themselves to it, and though the ther tnometors stand at 50° or GO° below zero,,they , experience no great inconvenience. At such a temperature, if you are warmly clothed you may go out and exccrcisc on the ice, quite com fortably, when there is no wind. Your beard soon becomes heavy. with your frozen breath ; but when you have become accustomed to this you can enjoy a game at foot-ball on a smooth patch of ice, and that too without fear of slip ' • ping into an air-hole. But when there it; a wind, though it be slight, the case is different. It is, then, of no use to multiply, thickness of cloth : the biting air strikes thro' as keenly as though there were but a single thickness of muslin. Skins alone can protect you. You must take your fashion from the Esqui maux. You find the field in which you may exercise your taste to be rather limited you ; have seal skin, deer skin. rarely a bear skin from these you must fa Lion yourself if you cannot purchase of some Esquimaux modiste seal skin or deer skin pantaloons and seal skin boots. If the pantaloons do not cover your foot neatly and have no straps, you must be content, it is the fashion of the country, and the Esquitnaus belles will not think less of you on that account. They, too, wear seal-skin pantaloons and boots.-1 Taken together these continuations cover limbs corresponding- to those which you cover. The division, however, is quit9,different ; their boots come half way above the knee, and the panta loons come down to meet them. The boots lire double, consisting of what may be termed a seal-skin stocking, with the fur inside, and a boot of thelsame material, with the flesh side next the stocking. Towarditheir upper extrem ities the bcots arc of very ample dimensions, and in spite of this it is said they fit tightly.— The pantaloons are frequently of very beauti ful color, and are ornamented with strips of red and white leather, elaborately embroidered in fine mosaic patterns. As the garment is en tire, and depends solely upon the closeness of its support the manner of putting it on becomes a matter of no little interest. You ponder over it long and vainly. :It last you acquaint some fair confi•lante with the subject of your sin cm laden, and without anytimet a!ion of prudery she tells you "it is perf,elly easy," and straightway drawing an imaginal•y pair over her feet, and above her kneLs, she ermises hi r legs, and lo ! they slide easily tittivardi; into their place. They ate held there by the pro jection of the hips, which prevents them from falling until the same po.dtion is again it,,stun• ed. Their boots are double so that they may, by taking apart be more easily dried. This is , necessary, since the shins intcrcepi the pct:spi- ! ration from the foot, and tcbcn night come:.; are , always very moist.• The imp , . r I.ort ion of the body is covered. first, %%it'll the usual garment gem rally unadormd by laces. Over is a tightly ti:tcd sea!•:!:in jaeliet, and the r habiliment is it loose ja,,,/, of calico, wi:11 louit ruflof dog's flu• aroimil the throat. 1:11, dernent.ll, awhite neckerelthf is 1411 elo , ily around the throat. This is put on in 'lmpinge form, and suggests influenza or bronchitis so forcibly as to be almost painful to the sight.— 'However, von soon get over this feeling and learn to d!r . cll with nroli !heir )1. Tian features, and the pagsaht of hair which , crowns their low foreht a a:;. Th, practice of combing the hair straight back len ders the temples bald while they are ye: Yvaner —a warning to those who have ad.Ttld the Chinese style of dressing, the hair. Music is a great favor it!! the l'-(1 , 1111,3:Ix —the men being most of tin to perrouners un the violin, and possessing a ready t: u •, a retell live memory, and considerable natural taste ill the production of their melodic s. Von u ill riot (Ind thew averse to dancing if you dis rilmtr two or tittle bottles of whiskey. They are v‘rj apt at learning mw dances:and a wahz which was taught them by one of Lieut. Dc Ilavi n's expedition was fond by him. five years :trier, to be very common and remarLably well formed. In the lower settlements land you will be to a ball alin..st cry- MI Among the northerii (lilies some of their cus totin; :u•e must inlitiman. At Cape Ali Nalidi r. 78 deg. :10 min. nor: h, there are ithout Escminlaux living in seven One these consisted ~kr a young Mall who had two eltildr(n. the :%. , tor:t.-4 of Which xvas Ivealc and sickly they inude a W . :lye and laid the child in it and eoveJed her with a smite. This - is the way in which they get rid of the aged and feeble. But whatever may he their failings, from religion or front custom, except in the most northerly part of ni f r,•;• love" finds no favor with the Esquimaux do. inen. When married they fire true to their husbands, and uninarried they are true to them selves. They cherish the nu Mot y' of their friends. (Inc of the officers of Lieut. De Mt, ven's expedition was greeted oi l his return to Leively in the expedition of Ilartstein ht• the gentle Sophie Broberg. With a I:h.s and a rap turous exclamation of delight. Ile brought home a photograph of her and her sister Marie. whO " has the fairest set of teeth in all Green• land," and has been educiited in Copenhagen. The photograph is faint for the sun in Green land is weak, still it gives n good idea of their features and dress. Another olli , er has a small daguerreotype of six of lite.Leively Home and Woman. Our homes— what are their corncr-stoncs but the virtue of a woman, and on what dries social well-being rest but in our 'mines ? Must we . not trace all Miter blessings id civilized life to the doors of our private dwellings ? Ate not our hearth-stones guarded by. holy r.ruis. conju gal, filial and parental love, the corner stone of Church and State, more sacred than tither. more necessary than both ? Let our temples crumble, and capitals of sta.e be levelled with the dust, but spare our homes ! let no social. ist . invade them with his wild plans' of com munity. Man did not invent. and he cannot improve or abrogate therm A private shelter to cover in two hearts dearer to vi:11 other than all in the world ; high walls to etc the pro, fine eyes of every human being; seclusion enough for children to feel that mother is a lioly and peculiar name—this is home ; and here is the hi rt hi)lace of tery :;eeret thwn: : ilt. Here the Church and State must cone fu their origin and Olt! s , a:tre war howes The love Nve ex;.erience OIL IC 2avcs Ili our faith in an innuite •goodnews ; the intrity and disinterestedtv !.s of home i.; our fire.-late nod our tat net i ; f a butler world. In relations there est aldh-I,d and fo,aerad do we Ilad throuvli life die a:iti joy or ~,ist. ence. What f icnds tlr vi ve the name compar cd With those 1‘ lion; a ,acts us ? One mother is ‘vorth a tliwn:ai:d nitanis ! one sister I.rner.tlian t wente intanate roinpatil,tae. We who have rlo‘ LAI on the saine Lent 11,1111(11.r the light of the stone bar's to the saute scene and sea.-on in whose reins runs tl o rule Lit,, d. find that years only ta:!;(2 more iinportent. the tiO May Spl ing up. en t spill . n i:nyi s uir ; .1,1 anything. N‘l,4) eon; , :.; th:tl the 1 . 1 1 ‘VII(OiV I/111.1:u :111V : .1 11 that. the N . ( :1:1/1 :Trak . in taw expirip,f . t . 11 'lllt,. Ii p - . 1; Ll' 1:::': =MI .r 1111111 Ca:, it t the L I t!a