... . . : . . .. . , ~.. • .. . - ..., . .. " .. . . ~.... „......... .. ._ . . .. ,•-.. ~... . ~ . ...: ~.... . 7 . . D. . . . . .. ' : . .. ......... . . . . .. ..,.. . ... .."?.,:..,.. -... ::,,.: . , • -J . .. . " ~..,• • . , . , • ~..., , . .• . ....., .. ' . •:.. ' • '..: : '' ~...,'.. '''... 41.!...; ,, A C .'• . . . . . . . . . . . , . . VOLUME X. LOOKING FOR A WIFE. IT Y KIT CARLY): " I hardly know which I like best, Josephine Reynolds or Hattie Burke," said young Benson to himself, " Josephine is a splendid looking girl, a queen in every movement, and com mands admiration wherever she goes ; but, on the other hand, Hattie is a little gem, and has a sweet disposition, although, perhaps, Jose phine has as good. Both cnn shine in the pan lor, and, for aught I know, in the kitchen, also. as all farmer's daughters should be able to (10. Well, 111 call on them this Monday afternoon, and endeavor to decide them. I t's washing day T know, but so much the better time to sound on household duties : and as 1 am going out of town the fore part of this week, it will be a good excuse for calling now." George penson was a smart, intelligent young man, poor, but engaged a profitable busi ness, which bid fair, in a few years, to place him in independent circumstances. lie wished to marry, but felt the necessity of wedding sonic one who was domestic, and would be a help mate. He was very much interested in both Hattie and Josephine, and hardly knew which he should prefer for a wife, as both had many ex cellent qualities, but finally concluded to decide in favor of the one who should prove to be the most domestic. George's walk that afternoon brought him to Mr. Reynold :s about three o'clock. Josephine's mother ushered him into the parlor. In a few moments Josephine en; ered and welcomed him cordially. To his surprise, instead of being fatigued, as one will after a Monday's washing, she looked as fresh and blooming as a rose, and as trim in her dress as though ready for a party ; while her mother, in her calico working dress, looked jaded and careworn, and refer ring, by way of apology, of its being washing day, soon left the room. Excuse my calling on Monday, Miss Rey nolds," said George, '• but I was going to leave town for a week, and thought I would happen in a few moments before I went." " 0, you are perfectly excusable," replied Josephine, " I tun very glad indeed that you called." " I shall make but a short stay," continued George, " as 1 presume you are quite weary with your—" •• 0, no, not at all, as I have been down to the village shopping all the afternoon. Mother always dlies the washing, as I haven't any taste that way." Then you have been at liberty all day ?" " Yes certainly ; washing day is no more dif ferent with me than any other; I never did a Monday's washing in my life. Mother tried to initiate me into the mysteries of the art one day, but I Was so awkward that she had to give up the experiment : and she said then, that there was no danger of iny ever becoming a wash-woman." " Indeed !- snid George to himself. " Father," continued Josephine, " would hire the washing done every Week, but mother says alto had rather do* it herself, for economy's nake." " A knowledge or housework, especially of cookery, is very desirable in a young lady," re plied George. " I suppose it was once considered so," re plied Josephine ; " but gentlemen now-a•days generally hire their wires a wash-woman and a housekeeper, and that answers every purpose, and saves a lady the trouble of acquainting her self with such disagreeable matters. Gentle men of the present day do not wish their wives to be slaves, but companions." " Very convenient logic for the ladies," thought 'George. • " Some have a taste for such duties and pre fer to make themselves acquainted with thorn," said he, " for the sake of overseeing their ser vants and knowing for themselves that things are done as they should be, if for no other pur pose:" "True, but not of that sort. I abhor them. Housework is perfectly hateful—detes t Ale to me. 0 dear ! I should consider a man cruel who wished mo to confine myself to it, oven a part of the time." • • ." Well," continued George, drawing a long breath, for ho was surprised to hear Josephine express herself so directly contrary to all pre vious notions of a woman's duties, " a lady Sometimes marries a poor man and finds it for her and , his interest to confine herself to circum stances, and attend to duties which aro not agreeable to her, for the sake of assisting her husband and rendering his burthen lighter." " Yes, but I make no calculations of that kind," said Josephine, firmly, though pleasant ly. for she was really an agreeable girl, though allowed to grow up with erroneous notions in regard to domestic affairs. " I prefer not to weds man unless he is able and willing to sup- port Me in ease and style." f;oighen you Would net make the right kind 121111tiT 1115)111t.Illiapataut5YE ttl 1 1 ALi ma% C:42)2tG PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM. of a wife for me," thought George, thoroughly sick of Josephine's remarks ; arid as soon as possible he'changed the topic of conversation."' " What a lucky escape," said our friend, to. himself, an hour afterwards as he was wending his way toward Hattie Burke's. It's a good thing for me that I sounded her upon house keeping before I proposed, otherwise I might have got myself in a pretty fix. What a figure I should have cut with such a wife, why I should be obliged to turn cook and wash-wo man myself, for I could not aftbrd, in my pros. eat circumstances, to hire all my work done.— I should have to stay at home and wash Mon day, iron Tuesday, perhaps, and bake Saturday, leaving only three days out of the seven to at ' tend to my own business. What a fix Beautiful times I should have ; my business would be neglected, and I should be poorer than ever : end even if I could afford to hire a house-keeper, it wouldn't better the case much, as I should have to give her directions and sce that things were done properly, for Josephine is very far above such detestable matters as she calls them. A man that's going to have such a wife ought to know it in season to get initiated into household mysteries before marriage.— Such it Miss may do well for a rich man, but not for me. Now for Hattie Burke : and if she turns out like Josephine in her tastes and dis like of domestic duties, setting aside the know ledge of them, which she cannot avoid having. as all say her mother has drilled her thoroughly in them, and is full of whims relating to their being slavish, &c., why, then I'll seek a life companion in some other part of the country, and perhaps make it a part of my present jour ney abroad to look for one. ' Hattie welcomed him in an old calico dress. with short sleeves, a la wash-tub, and with litT brown hair that generally curled so beau tifully, gathered up neatly and snugly on the back of her head. " I suppose I should apologise," said she, as they entered the parlor, " but I dislike apolo gise ; and then you know that Monday is wash ing day, and we farmers daughter's have to be in the suds then." " And there's where I hoped to find you," George came near saying ; but checking him self, he replied, " I know it, it's a past of wo man's duties, and I am sure an apology would be out of place !" So I thought," returned Hattie. I fear I am intruding," said George. " 0, by no means," replied Hattie : " we are throughwith our washing, which held out later than usual, as mother has been quite unwell for a week, and I am obliged to do the whole of it to-day. You will stay to tea, of course ; it will be perfectly convenient. Mother's headache has come on, and she has laid down, but father will bo in presently to entertain you." George's countenance was brightening up every moment, and he began to think his fears groundless in regard to Hattie, but he was re solved to test her ideas thoroughly. " 0, yes," returned Hattie, " I'm generally pretty healthy, and then I'm fond of it, too, and you know that is half of the battle. Mother evcn goes so far as to say, that is sometimes, I can cook and take care of the house, as well as she but then, that's her flattery, of course to encou rage me." " But such work is hard, some say slavish,"• continued George. " I think differently," replied Hattie ; " it is not sldvish, and need not be so hard as many contrive to make it. There is a right way to do everything. Some have what is called a knack; but that is simply finding out the easiest way of doing it well ; one can make housework comparatively easy in that way." " Well some consider it a disgrace," contin ued our hero, " and others complain that they have not a taste for it." " It is not a disgrace," said Hattie ; " on the contrary, I think a young lady may be proud of a knowledge of house-keeping. Many of the first ladies in the land have not felt above it, and why should I who am nothing but a far mer's daughter ? As for the taste that way, a girl might as well acquire one first as last. A man's wife must understand such things, and the time to learn is when single. I often think how ashamed I should be, if married, and una ble the first day of commencing house-keeping to cook. my husband a decent meal. What would he think ? why ; that I was a mere doll, good for nothing but to look at; I should cry from sheer vexation." " Well, really, I begin almost to think Hat tie," said George, " that you would oven con sent to marry a man who would expect you to do houiework all ybur days if you love him, you seem to make such an agreeable business of it, but I should have had but little respect for the man who subjected you to it unnecessa rily." " Yes," replied Hattie, smiling, " if I really love a man, his being poor would not lead me to reject him, even if his situation was such as to subject me to close attention to my home duties all my life." Allentown, Pa., February 20, 1.9.56 " That's the very girl for me," said George , • Scandal Mongers. to himself, as Hattie left the room to arrange I In every community is a certain class of par the tea table, " I need not look further." And I pie whose only object in life seems to be, to do. before he left the house that night he had • an offer of his heart and hand which had accepted. And so ends our simple s etch. If tln any moral in it, young ladie of ordinary cerement will not fail to disco er it. [Written for the Lehigh Itegist TILE VOYAGE OF LIFE. nr C. 11. RUSSELL Lit•'s eaila w,?re set, my bark was trim That hounded lightly from the slime; Pleasure and wit were on the wing, Autl every breeze a protnise bore. The morn WOF sweet ns song of dove; The mental Oche serenely bright.; Each ripple sang iu song of love ; Fame's pharus shed a lambent, light. r+lllll 7 (rend my ample nnil-- Iluoy'd up on Hope's exulting ',ring— And smil'd to feel Ambition's gale Press on my eanyas, wing and wing; , And, bounding o'er mollen tide, My gallant craft speed proudly on; Friendship and Love were at my aide, And every angry cloud had flown. ' South's incense—boleti breezes blew, While Mory kiss'd the rippled tide; Upon my Miceli was Fission's glow ; The stzr or hope, my only guide. While holdhig proudly nn my course, Mid present joys, with future bright, All gloomy o'er the western mire Cold Disappointment bore in eight. Then, darkling o'er the mental Ay, Life's Morin arose with muCring groan, trembling bark was fore'd to tly Through rising storm and dashing foam Pleasure and wit soon took to flight ; Paine'± plinros elieer'd no longer on ; The star of hops withdrew its And every promised good was gone. coarse. no more, en free and gny ; diipwreelt'd heart will !owl lie cola ; 'Tie only left to Memory To gather op lift 18 sentter'd ratosooloa. FA. 9, 1 85fr. A New Ilusinesß. We beard a pretty good one the other day, which we think merits a wider circulation than it has yet got. The story runs that an honest faced Hoosier went into a fancy store in Cincin• nati, in quest of a situation. The proprietor, or head clerk, was sitting in his counting-room, with his feet comfortably crooked up on a table, and contemplating human life through the soft ening influence of cigar smoke. Our Hoosier friend addressed him modestly : " Do you want to hire a hand about your es tablishment, sir ?" The clerk looked up indifferently, but on seeing his customer, concluded to have some fun out of him, so he answered very briskly, at the same time pulling out a large and costly handkerchief— " Yes, sir ; what sort of a situation, do you want I" " Want," said the Itoosier, " I'm not partic ular—l'm out of work, and almost anything'll do me fora while." " Yes ; well, I can give you a situation if it will suit you." " What is it ? What's to be done, and what do you give?"! " Well," was the answer, "I want hands to chaw rags into paper, and if you are i rllling to sot in,-you may begin at once." " Good as wheat !" exclaimed the Hoosier, hand over your rags." " Here, take this handkerchief, and com mence with that." Hooshr saw the sell, and quietly putting the handkerchief into his pocket, remarked as he turned to go out : " When I get it thawed, stranger, I will fetch it Lack !" A Receipt for youu,~ Ladles that fall too easl— I.V 111 Love. Talce one grain of sense ; half grain of pru dence ; one dram of understanding ; one ounce of patience ; ono pound of resolution ; one ounce of dislike ; mix them all together and fold thee► up in the vacancy of the Brain for twenty hours ; then heat on a slow fire for six hours ; then'strain clear from the dregs of ha tred of melancholy ; sweeten with forgetful ness, and put them in the bottle of your heart, stopping down with judgment ; then let them• stand fourteen days in the water of affection. I never knew this to fail. LUCINDA. To Young Ladles. Beware of flashy gentleman. Fine clothes don't make the man. Moustaches, whiskers and frizzled hair frequently adorn the vagabond: —Just ascertain, before admitting hint to your society, whether the tailor and barber haven't contributed more in his " making up," than good character and manly pfinciple. Beware of flashy flunkeys and fashionable vagabonds in disguise. Investigate the animal before giving away your affections. has the satisfaction of seeing really worthy peo ple in much trouble and pain from the unex pectCd imputations made against them. But here is the mystery ; that very tale bearer has a past of the most unenviable repute—her family wore of the most " scaly" kind of people, and lived such a life as does not look well in print ; and why a person of such descent should indirectly excite attention to her own affairs and her not-forgotten past, by her revival of ancient scandal is, it strikes us, puzzling to tell. It has served to quicken our suspicions that scandal mongers have a family escutcheon not particularly pure ; and we have come to the conclusion that he or she whose tongue is busy with reputations and family happiness, is just the person whose past ought to be shrouded in darkness. If a decent respect for the feelings of the living and dead will not prevent the ex humation of that which time had buried and grown over with flowers, let the busy-body think she is thus greatly lowered in the estima tion of worthy people, and thus be silent from fear. • • MARRIAGE. Physical defects of the most frightful kind, moral defects of a repulsive character, consti tute generally no bar whatever to marriage in this country. Consumption is bred in without a thought--scrofula is perpetuated—gout is unhesitatingly transmitted, while drunkenness is crossed upon sobriety and hereditary lying and stealing is sent down to a young crop of thieves and dodgers, and meanness, laziness, greediness, illness, selfishness and vulgarity are tumbled into the common crucible of marriage, and received in the inexorable law of produc tion as the characteristics of a generation of men and women. Among human beings, con stitutional defects arc as transmissible as they are among horses ; so are moral defects, and so, thank God, are the moral excellencies. Yet the great majority-of this country act in defiance of this physiological laiv, more probably in ig norance of it. LITTLE EVA'S GRAVE. zephyrs, blow ye lightly O'er the place where sleep the deed. Where the moenbenms, shining brightly., Hover round the narrow bed; For where .tonder ivy creeps Is the place where Eva sleep!. Whilc ehi) Tired. she know but gladness; Every joy Was nil her own,— But the night of grief and sadness When her spirit hence had flowri ; Canto upon no—thts we weep Over her who now loth sloop. Angel-wings hove 1 orne her spirit Tow purer land above, • Where the blest forier inherit, All the father's holy lore; And while love its vigils keeps, In the grate sweet ETD. sleeps. 'When the night of death came O'er her, And her eyes began to cfoie, nappy dreams went on before her, Calling her to sweet repose i And she fell in slumber deep ; Leaving us below to weep, Then wo laid her little finger Quitely nereso he breast— Often now her mom'ry lingers, As if by divine behest; And though her reward she nape, We will mourn her while oho, sleeps Then, sweet zephyrs, whisper lightly O'er that encred, hallowed spot. Where the moonbeams eparhlo brightly, • Al, ? it cannot ho forgot • For whelp yonder icy creeps Is the place where Ern sleeps. Boots and Shoes. Boots are'stiid to have been invented by the Carrans. They were at first made of lea afterwards of bra:" against bat that ; Form• tee. tee A CItILD AT PLAY, A rosy chill went forth to play, In the first flush of hope and prido, Where sands in silver beauty lay, Made bare by the retreating tide; And kneeling on the trackless waste, Whence ebbed the water many a mile, He raised in hot and trembling haste, Arch, wall and tower-‘-a goodly pile. but when the shades of evehing fell, Veiling tho blue and peaceful deep, The toiling of her vesper-bell Called that boy-builder home to sleep; Ile passed a long and restless night. Dreaming of structures tall and fair— Ile came with the returning light, And lo! the faithless sands were bare. Less wise than that unthinking child, Aro all that breathe of mortal birth, IVho grasp, with strivings warm and wild The false and fading toys of Earth, Gold, learning, glory—what are they Witeout the faith that looks on high? The sand-forts of a child at play, Which are not when tho wave goes by. IF I WERE lIE If t were a farmer, it appears to me I wou devote my whole attention to the cultivati of my farm, clothe and feed my servants wel take care of my stock, mend the holes is tl fence, take a fair price for my produce, a never indulge in idleness and dissipation. If T were a lawyer, I wouldn't chargo a po man $5 for a few words of advice. If I-were a physician, I could not have co science to charge as much as they do for feelin the pulse, extracting a tooth, taking a littl blood ; or administering a dose of calomel o jalap. If I were a merchantj would have an estab lisped price for my goods, and not undersel or injure my neighbors. I would sell at moderate profit, and give good measure an deal as honestly as possible. If I were a mechanic, I would apply mysel industriously to my business, take care of m family, refrain from visiting taverns and gm! shops ; and when I promised a man to hn,v, his work done by a certain time, I would tr and be punctual. If I were a young man, I would not cut a: many ridiculous capers as some of them d. —playing with their watch chains, flourish ing their rattans, striating and making a ;rea. noise with their high-heeled boots, (probably not paid for,) and making remarks on plai and worthy people. They render themselve• contemptible in the eyes of the sensible and unassuming. If I were a young lady, I would not be seen spinning street yarns every day, ogling tlii young fellow, nodding to another, and giving sweet smiles to a third—sometimes havin l , three holes in ono stocking and two in th, other. If I were a lover, I would be true to th, object of my affections, treat her with tender ness and never let her conduct towards other excite jealousy in my breast ; but should she ever speak of me in terms of disrespect or trey me with coldness • • • - . . . a shovel, aud all her arts should never again entrar .1 1 e. Ij I were an old bachelor, f would make ev y exertion in my power to get married, an if I failed, I would buy a rope and hang in elf. nd, Mr. Printer, if I was of your useful ant respectable profession, I would never re fui to publish pieces like this. mtherees not in this wide world a happier lift, Tin to sit near the et we-pipe and tickle ,• T ie the sweet of her lips in the Ivo .• twist tho cat's tail when s A Mar NUMBER 21. the EngHA than a wild Hoppintot. You can't get your clumsy Dutch tongue round the words of a civilized language. Now hiss ten to me, Alounseer Frenchman, and I'll teach you how it's done. Dutchman—No, listen to me, I unterslitants how do bronounsho most bropperest. I gomes from the ladder shit of Enklant, and zuro I knows how do sphokc de bure Enklish. Irishman-4s that a raisonable sort iv a raison now ? By that same logic I should know how to spake Inglish still betther, for I kim from this side iv England, and was niver across the Irish Channel since I was born, let alone before that. And thin, besides, me great grandmother was a schoolmasther, and my second cousin on me neighbor's sido was a praicher intil tho bargain ; so Misther Mounshure, I'M the boy that'll taiche ye to spice Inglish properly. Prone hman--Oui ! All speak do Inglesa --do Yankay, do Irish man, do Bush man, all speak him bens, and all speak him differ ent ! begar ! Now, vat you call dis—[showing a potatol—dis pomtne de terre ? Yankee.—That pain de tar ! Why, Mounseer, 0
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