VOLUME X.
THE FORGED WILL.
Some years ago, there lived in a quiet Ger
tnan village an old farmer, named Gottfried,
who, having in his youth suffered di'sappoint
tnent in a love affair through the inconstancy
of a fair peasant, passed the remainder of his
life in a state of morose and discontented celi
bacy. He was assisted in the labors of his farm
by his two nephews, Hans Engclheitn and Karl
Landerman, whose characters were so dissimi
lar, that it was no wonder they were frequent-
ly quarreling. llnns was cheerful, candid, and
generous ; while Karl was morose, treacherous,
and vindictive. These were qualities which
naturally recommended him to his uncle, to
whom he reported every dance on the green and
every glass which Hans enjoyed, exaggerating
them in a manner which led the old man to be
lieve the latter much too gay and dissipated to
be entrusted with any pert of the management
of his affairs. Thus Karl• grew in favor with
his uncle, while he gratified his envy of his
cousin, and prepared the way for his own suc
cession to the farm. Hans at length found his
position so uncomfortable, exposed as 116 was
to injurious suspicions and unmerited obloquy.
that he left the farm and his fatherland to seek
his fortune in the far west.
Twenty years passed away, and old Gottfried
was still alive, and more morose than ever.—
Karl managed the ninth's of the farm, with the
assistance of a hardworking and good-tempered
youth, named Peter Mitzer, over whom he so
tyrannized, that the poor fellow would have left
the farm a hundred times, but for his poverty.
had Karl been a more estimable person, he.
would have been as much an object of commis
eration as Peter, for the older his uncle grew,
the worse his temper became ; and the only
source of consolatien he had (for, like his uncle,
he was a bachelor) was in anticipating the time
when the old man would give up the ghost, and
he should become the owner of the farm. The
happy day nt length arrived ; old Gottfried
died, and was buried, and there being np other
claimant, Kati took possession of the farm, as
next of kin, without any opposition.
We must now relate the fortune of Hans.—
lle had obtained employment on a farm in one
Of the western, States of America, and, in the
course of few years was able, by industry and
frugality, to have sufficient money td purchase
a few acres of land and a cow. Then he mar
ried a very amiable girl. the daughter of a set
tler from the same district of Germany as him
self, and all went well and happily with him.
But, as he advanced in years, lie experienced n
growing desire to return to his fatherland, from
which he was only withheld by the disinclina
-tion of his wifo to leave a country in which
were settled her parents and her sister. At
length, however, his wife died ;' and then he
hesitated no longer. but sold all his propeity.
antrreturned to Germany, taking with him his
only child, a blue-eyed, fair-haired girl, who
was now his only consolation.
Karl Landerman was smoking his pipe at the
door of the firm-house, mentally calculating
the profits of the harvest just gatheredln. when
Bans and his daughter came up, accompanied
by the notary of the village. He touched his
hit to the latter, without rising or removing
the pipe from his mouth, and then glanced in
quiringly toward his cousin, whom he did not
recognize.
" Good evening, farmer," said the notary.
" This good man and.l have a little business to
settle with you:" •
" What business ean'he have with mo re
turned Karl, in a surly tone. " I don't know
him."
" Then I must introduce him." said the no
tary. " This is your cousin, Hans Engelheim
who went to America, and who has now re
turned to settle down in his native land, on the
farm which has becoine hiltby the death of his
lamented uncle." .
" His !" grunted Kati, his brow dampening.
"The farm is mine ; the old man made Inc his
heir."
" Possibly," returned the notary ; " but you
must prove that to be the case, friend Lander
man, for your_cousin, here, is son of the de
'ceased's brother, while you descend from his
youngest sister."
" Ay, but there is a will," said Karl, eyeing
his cousin maliciously. " Como in, and satis
fy yourself, friend 'notary."'
All four entered the kitchen, where every
thing looked just the same as when Hans had
eaten his supper there. " The olci_walnut-wood
cheat stood against the wall in its old place.
and above it hung die sieve and the billhook,
beneath the shelf on which stood the milk-pail,
.thesugarler, and the pots of preserved fruit.
"The old man told me il hundred times that
I should have everything,".Observed. Karl, go
ing to the chest ; " and hers shall find the
will, I have no doubt."
He had thought his possession of the farm FO
secure, that he had.never searched for the will ;
40F upcle ever informed him where he,
would 4 1 d , knewthat an paper s ,
f
14 ,3 .123110T1tC)114255A.1120214202C - c v T ail•ac:4242
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER A
consequence were kept in a secret recess at the
bottom of the strong chest, and there he had no
doubt he should find it. Ho took a bundle of
papers from the recess, and glanced over the m,
but, to his confusion and dismay, the will was
not among them.
" It must be up stairs," said he ; and return- 1
ing the papers to their depository, he ascended
the stairs in feverish haste. 1
" If there is no will, your claim cannot be
disputed;" obseried the notary, turning to!
Hans.
The latter made no comment, and in a few
minutes Karl came down again, his couple
nance showing that his search had been unsuc-
cessful
" I can't find it," said he ; " but I am quite
sure it is somewhere . aboutrthe house."
" Well, look again—take time," observed the
notary. " Your cousin does not wish to turn
you out either to-day or to-morrow ; but, if yr u
cane ,t find the document in a week or ten days.
I advise you to give up the farm without hav
ing recourse to litigation, which wlll be both
expensive and fruitless."
With this excellent piece of advice, which
Karl was not in a frame of mind to appreciate,
the notary took his leave, followed by Hans
and his daughter. Karl passed the greater
part of the' night in searching for the will.
which he had supposed old Gottfried to ha‘ e
mule, but without finding it, for the simple and
suffidient reason that no such document hail
ever existed. The promises of his uncle hall
only been made to secure his fidelity, and re
concile him to hard work and meagre rations,
the olljoet accomplished, he was too selfish to
trouble himself about the reward. This con-
viction dawned upon Karl's mind, whim he be
came satisfied that further search would be
fruitless ; and the anathemas which he mutter•
ed against his dead.uncle were frightful. There
was no help for it, however, and a f:w days
afterwards he gave up possession of the farm fo
his cousin.
One night, a few months after this change in
the position of affrirs, Gertrude Engelheim ryas
standing at the door of the farm-house, listen•
ing to the sweetly plaintive song of the night
ingale, which was borne on the soft and still air
from the neighboring wood, and looking up at
the bright stars which gemmed the dark-blue
canopy of the universe. The honeysnekel
which trailed over the porch exhaled its deli
cats perfume, and from a little distance the
night air wafted the exquisite scent of a blos
somy bean field. Save the melody of PllllOlllOl
and the gentle whispering of tree, no sound
was heard. All was still ashen the twink
ling stars, to which the maiden's soft blue eyec:
looked up, shone above the green and perfumed
bowers in which the first pair of human kind
slept the sleep of innocence and peace.
In a few minutes, however, footsteps can*
slowly across the read, and I'r:ter Mitzcr ap
peared, leaning over the rustic gate; and look
ing towards the flowery porch, in which the
farmer's daughter was half concealed. A
brighter light shone from the maiden's eyes,
and a deeper tint of rose diffirsed her fair check.
as she recognized the youth ; and she tripped
lightly down the narrow path leading to the
gate. Just as he reached it, a dark figure
emerged from the gloom of a clump of fir trees
and stole on tipote into the house.
" What a beautiful night !" said the young
peasant, as Gertrude reached the gate.
"Speak lower," whispered Gertude. “Fath
er has gone to bed." •_
" Do you think he would be re+•y. angry if I.e
knew that.—". Peter hesitated.
" I don't know," said the maiden, casting
down her eyes. "He loves me very much :
and I sometimes think it would be better to be
less secret ; we should then know his mind at
once, and my poor heart would be at rest."
" Ho is my master,. Gertrude. and I am
poor," rejoined Peter. " Ile might think it an
unwarrantable presumption in me to love his
daughter. But did you not say he had gone
up to bed ?"
"Yes," replied Gertrude, turning round, and
looking towards the Germ•house, where a light
shone at an upper window, and a dim figure of
a man was indistinctly seen between the curtain
and a candle ; •• there is his shadow reflected
upon the curtain."
Then some one must have crept into the
house," exclaimed Peter ; " fur I Atilt- swear T
saw a man in the room just now—he stooped
down near the fire-place."
"You frighten me, Peter !" said Gertrude
turning pale, and clinging to his attn. " Arc
you sure ?"
" I could not fancy such a thing," returned
the young peasant, throwing first one leg and
theh the other over the gate. " Let Us' go and
see."
Pho trembling girl suffered Peter to lead the
way, and her heart beat quickly as they enter•
ed the kitchen, which served as the ordinary
sitting room, and which we have already brief
ly noticed. To
.thp
.eurprise of both, and of
PeUR Mtn!. h? ,particular. there was no one
Allpntowp, Pa., April 2, 1856.
visible, nor had a single article been displaced.
• "'Phis looks like witchcraft-!" said the puz
zled youth, when he had looked under the table
and behind the door.
" You nmst have been mistaken," observed
Gertrude, beginning to breath more freely.
Peter scratched behind his right car, and
.looked perplexed, but made no observation.—
At that moment a sneeze sounded from the vi
cinity of the walnut•wood chest, and Gertrude
and her lover exchanged glances.
" It must be the cat," suggested the former.
" She must have got shut up in the corn chest."
" If I had not seen that fellow, I might think
so," returned Peter, advancing towards the
chest.
" What is the matter, Gertrude ?" said the
farmer, from the stairs.
" Peter thinks there is some one hid in the
elm chest, father," replied the young girl.
" Peter !" echoed her father, " what is Peter
doing het e?"
Gertrude and the young peasant both blushed
as the farmer came down the stairs and advanced
towards them.
" Peter came to the gate to me, and while we
stood there be saw a man here," replied Ger
trude, in a trembling voice ; " and when we
came in we heard a sneezeTrom the chest."
At that moment a second sneeze, louder than
the first, startled nll three.
"'Raise the lid, Peter," said the farmer; "We
w;11 see who this intruder is."
Gertude crept timidly behind her father, and
the young peasant proceeded to lift up the heavy.
lid of the chest. When this was accomplished,
the ungainly from and ill-favored countenance
of Earl Lptlermen were revealed, crouching
down in the chest, into which - he had crept for
concealment when he heard Gertrude and Peter
approaching the house. The dust at the bottom
of the chest had stirred up by his entrance, and
it wns this which, by causing him to sneeze, led
to his discovery. As he slowly raised himself,
and stepped out of the chest. his features ex
p .essed a strange compound of feelings—shame,
fear, end cunning blended together.
" What do you do here ?" inquired Hans, as
soon ns he had recovered from. surprise.
" Well, I have no business here, I admit,"
replied Karl, his voice expressing the same feel
ings ns hi; cluntenancel " but I dreamt last
night that uncle Gottfried's will was under 'a
stone in this 'kitchen, and I stole in to look ;
but, before I could do so. I heard these people
approaching, and not liking to be caught where
I had no business, I got into the chest."
" Well, take yourself off." said Harts
" Them can never be any friendship between
us, for I cannot trust you ; so let me see your
balk."
Karl sneaked out of the home, and Peter was
about to follow, after wishing his master and
Gertrude gond night, when Hans bade him
stay a moment, and desired his daughter to go
to beA: •
" Peter," said he, after a pause, "you and
Gertrude arc more together than i should like,
if I did not believe you to be a sober and indus
trious lad. T suppose there has been some love
making between you ?"
" Master," said the young peasant, with the
earnestness of sincerity, " I love Miss Gertrude
as if she were a part of my life, and have
thought of her and dreamt of her from the first
moment I saw her."
" Well, work for me a year longer. and we
will then talk furthei about the matter," said
Thos. " My daughter is very young, and you
are young enough to wait that time ; it' Ger
Crude is willing to accept you as her husband in
a year's time she shall be yours."
• " Master, you have made me the happiest lad
in the village," returned Peter ; "and I am
sure Gertude will be as happy as I am, whew.'
she knows what you have prtimised."
With that he went home, and Hans secured
the door very carefully.
About a fortnight afterwards, the villgge no•
tary called upon the farmer, and informed him
that Karl had again dreamt that his uncle had '
deposited his will under a certain stone in the
kitchen floor, and,for his satisfaction, wished to
make an exaniination. He made no ohjection
and a loose stone was found near the fireplace,
which, being raised, disclosed to view a folded
paper. The notary eagerly picked it up, and on
opening it found that it was really a will, bear
ing the'signature of Gottfried, and, bequeathing
the farm, with till the live and dead stock, to
his nephew. Karl Landerthan. The notary car
ried Off the document, and legal proceedings
were immediately - commenced to re:over posses -
sioriof the property. under the so strangely dis- •
covered will. Hans, in his perplexity, had re
course to tho counsel of a shrewd lawyer, who,
after hearing all the Circumstances. procured a
copy of the will and perused it attentively, but
could gather no hopolrom it, the intentions of
the deceased being so clearly expressed. Still
he advised Hans to keep possession, and let the
cause go for trial ; nothing being, ho said, so
uncertain as the issue of a
,trial at civil law.
On the Walla had an opportunity of.examining
the original document, and, on holding it up to
the light, discovered that the water-mark was
of more tecent date than that of the d writing,
which was so clear an internal proof of forgery.
that Karl's advocate immediately threw up his
brief. Karl fled the country when he found
that his villainy was discovered, and Hans and
his daughter were left in undisturbed posses
sion of the farm. Gertrude, at th a end of the
year, liecaMe the wife of Peter Mitzer, who
justified, by his exemplary conduct ns a hus
band and father, the good opinion which Hans
had formed of him at first.
ALL MANKIND ARE BARBERS
I'll prove to you, my friend, I Lope,
That none a doubt can harbor,
That all the world's n barber shop,
And every man a bather.
Some slmt•o to mako themselves look cent,
And some becnuso 'tie funny
And brokers shave you in the street,
Add only shavo for money.
Some share their foreheads slick and clean,
If with low heads they're bothered,
But then 'tis plainly to be seen,
That they're the ones that lathered.
To court a girl with clorpnce,
The dandy never freti'her,
But lathers her with compliments,
And shares her when he gets her
The mnidens also, nor and then,
'Who ore so fond of sporting,
•
Soft sunp the shallow minded men,
And shave theta while they're courting
But 1:1C11 and girls who thus w:11 boast,
Of soaping while they tarried,
Will (Ind at last with bitter cost,
That both got shave,' when married.
~ Don't stay Long."
It is rarely indeed that we have read any•
thing more truthfully pathetic than the sub
joined waif, Which we find floating among our
exchanges. Would that every husband in our
town might read and profit by it.
" Don't. stay long, husband," said a young
vlice tenderly in my presence one evening. as
her husband was preparing to go out. The
words themselves were insignificant, but the
look of melting fondness with which they were
accompanied, spoke volumes. It tool all the .
whole vast depths of a woman's love—of her
grief when the light of his smile, the source of
all her joy, beamed not brightiy, ution her.
" Don't stay long, husband," and I fancy I
saw the loving gentle wife setting alone aux
iously. counting the moments of her husband's
absence, every few mommts !tinning to the
door to see if he was in sight and finding that
he was not. I thought I could hear her exclaim.
ing in disappointed tones, '• not yet."
" Don't stay long, husband," and I again
thought I could see the young wife, rocking
nervously in the great armchair, and weeping
as though her heart would Ureak, as' her
thoughtless " lord and toaster" prolonged his
stay to a wearisome length of time.
you that have wives to say—" f'on't stay
long," when you go forth, think of them kindly
when you are mingling in the busy hive Of life,.
and try, just a little, to make their hoines and
hearts happy, ( ( or they tire gems too seldom re
placed. You cannot find amid the pleasures of
the world, the peace and joy that a quiet Nome
blessed with such a woman's presence will of •
ford. .
" Don't stay long, husband," and the young
wife's look seemed to say, " for here in your
own sweet home is a loving heart, whose mu
sic is hushed when you are absent ; here is a
soft breast for you to lay your head upon, and
here are pure lips unsoiled by sin, that will
pay you with kisses for coining back soon."
To Make Glossy Shirt Bosoms
Those ladies - who wish to see their " lords"
wearing nice glossy shirt bosoms, will do well
to observe the fulowing rectipt :
Take two ounces white gum arabic, powder
it in a pitcher. and pour on a pint or more of
water, according to the degree of strength you
desire, and then, having covered it, let it set
all night. In the morning, filter it carefully
from its dregs into a clean bottle, cork it and
keep for use.
A table-spoonful of gum water stirred into a
pibt of starch made the usual way will give to
either white or printed shirts a look of newness
that, nothing else can restore, to them after
washing
The Dead Sea
The Dead Sea is over 1,300 feet below the lev
el of the Mediterranean, and nearly 4.000 be•
low Mount Olivet, from, which it is 15 miles riis•
tent and distincntly visible, a view of which is
given in Barclay's Panorama of Jerusalem and
ins vicinity. The waters of this 'sea have a
greater specific gravity than any known, with
a salty and pungent taste, which stings the
tongue like saltpetre. Bayard Taylor says :
" With a log of wood for a pillow, 'one might
sleep as on ono of the patent mattresses."
On the shores, washed up by the waters, the
inhabitants pick up asphaltum, from which is
made the sacred trinkets sold to pilgrims.
Who was Cain's Wife I
How often has this inquiry been made ? To
a certain class of minds such a question possess
es more importance than the gravest investi
gations in theology. Brother Weaver, of St.
Louis, in answer to a correspondent, thus 1.0-
.st:7011(1s through the 'Herald and Era to the in•
quiry, '• Who was Cain's wife?"
A subscriber asks this singular question.—
We answer, she was Cain's wife. That's all
we know 'about her. That is all the account
says of her, save that she was the mother of
Enoch.
It is said that Cain went into the land of
Nod, and-we suppose that ho took his wife with
him, as any good husband, would. In the land
of Nod they had Enoch, and probably other
children not a few, and grandchildren, for they
built a city there. The city probably was not
so large as St. Louis is, but it very likely was
a large household, of which Cain was patriarch.
It might have been his own and the £tmilies of
his children living in squat° dwellings. -
What Cain's wife's name was, and who her
parents were we are not certified. She might
have been the daughter of Adam and Eve, or
some of their children. She was probably
closely related to Cain, or a sister or a niece, or
Something nearer than cousin. Cousins tharry
in our day when the world is full of strangers.
It wouldn't have been so great a wonder for
gain to marry his sister, when there .were no
other girls in the world, and. no laivs of mar•
riage, and nobody else to claim her affections
The Command was to marry ar; multiply kind
replenish the earth. And we resume it was
pretty well obeyed, fur it seem, well replenish •
ed now, and likely to be.
We know nothing about the number of child
ren and grandchildren the first pair had. No
doubt it was a goodly number, both of male
and female: : else who inhabited Cain's city,
and who were the wives of Enoch, Irad, Mau
na, Nethusaleh, and Lnmech, the bigamist?
We haven't got the whole story of those days ;
only a drop in the bucket, as it were. We
have the descending lino of generation from
Adam downward and but little more.
LOVE
What is love' To some nn ocean,
Made to wreck seine fond devotion,
In its youthful happiness.
To some a course of innate sorrow,
But speaks to us of joy to-morrow,
Yet none 'tie known to bless.
Whet is love? That never ranges.
That from ono object never changes,
What is loco sincere?
'Tis choicest gift of Mayan,
That could to man ou earth ha given, -
'Tis ti gift of all most dear.
Circuses ii► the United States
We learn from a contemporary that out of
twelve equestrain companies travelling - in the
Smith this Winter, three have been embargoed
by the severe weather, viz : Rosston's, at
Baton Rouge : Butler's. at New Orleans, and
Orton's,at Trinity, Arkansas. Of the rest, dur
ing last week. Robinson & Eldred's was at
Charleston, S. C. ; Ballard & Baily, at Macon,
Ga. ; Mabie's, at. Selma. Ala ; Washburn's, at
Mobile, Ala. ; Spalding & Rogers' exhibition
steamers. Fioating Palace, and James Raymond
at Bayou. Sara. on the Mississippi, and their
new show steamer, the Banjo, at Shreveport, on
Red River. Charini & Nicolo's circus is in
Ilavana ; Stout & Reynolds' circus in Austin,
Texas, and llarper . & Antonio's circus at Vic
toria, Texas. In consequence of incessant rains
and extreme cold, the business has been quiet
disastrous in the South this Winter.
The ten circus companies remaining at the
North arc making great preparation for the
traveling season of the ensuing. Summer, com
mencing during the last week in April. Welch
& Lent, Rivers & Deriotis', and Colonel Cush
ing start from near Philadelphia; . "ding &
. Rogers' land company, from Binghampton, N.
Y. ; Dah Rice, from Girard, Pa. ; Van Am
burg & Co:, from Covington, Ky. ; Sands &
Nathans, from Detroit, Mich. ; North & Co.,
from Chicago. 111. ; and Flagg & Co., (anew
company from Boston, Mass. The notable fea
ture of the season in circuses is a new eques
trian, establishment, originated by Spalding &
Rogers, to start from Washington, D. C., with
railroad cars built expressly for the transporta
tion of the
_company, and with adjustable axles
to run on any gunge, and so constructed as to
be hauled daily from the track to the exhibition
ground, and there used as dressing rooms, tick
et-offices, refreshment rooms, museums, &c.
This concern is got up expressly for the cities
and large towns of New York and New Eng
land. The cost of the foregoing twenty-three
circus companies, exclusive of the expenSive
steamers of Spalding & Rogers on the Western
waters, cannot be less than $750,000, and as
the average daily expense is about $350, over
$BOOO is paid out .by them, in the aggregate,
daily. For the prosecution of their business,
over 2,000 persons and 2,000 horses are :re
qtdred.
The Albany Evening Journal publishes a list
of the battles fought during the year 1855, with
the number of people killed at each, beginning
with the bombardment of Shanghai by the
French, at which ono hundred fell, and ending
with the fall of Kars, at which 2,600 fell, by
which list it appears that 73 battles have oc
curred during the year, or more than one for each
week with an average loss of over 1000 men
killed in each. This list does not include those
who have fallen by disease, or in skirmishes,
I nor the wounded, disabled, and those who have
died in the hospital or the ambulance, or were
1 , irreparably maimed, or missing, or prisoners.
The number left dead upon the field usually
comprises only about one fourth of the entire
loss in a battle. By this ride, the entire num
ber swept out of useful existence by the war of
1855 must have reached over 300,000 men.—
No year has presented so bloody a record since
Waterloo.
liow to Judge a Horse.
If the color be light sorrel or chesnut, his
feet, legs, and face white, these arc marks of
kindness: •
If he is broad and full between the eyes he
may be depended on as a horse of good sense
and capable of being trained to almost any
thing.
As respebts such horses, the more kindly you
treat them, the more kindly you will be treated
in return. Nor will a horse of this description
stand the whip if well fed.
If you want a safe horse, avoid one that is
dish faced ; he may be so far gentle as not to
scare, but there will be too much go ahead in
him to be safe for everybody.
If you want a fool, but' a horse of great bot
tom, get a deep bay, with not a white hair upon
him ; if his face is a little dished, so much the
worse.
Tho Wyandotte Corn.
The Prairie Farmer, talks as if • it knew all
about this variety of corn, and gives us the fol•
lowing :
The Wyandotte, or South western Squaw
Corn is one of those varieties of soft white corn
in much favor with the Indians for home con
sumption, as it is easily made ready for use
without the aid of a mill. Indeed, it is more
than probable that it cannot be kept long, if
reduced to meal ; and it is equally certain that
it will not do for shipping, in any form, being
almost, if not quite, destitute of the oil so ne
cessary to its preservation in bulk. There can
be no doubt; that as far south as Morgan
county, in Illinois, the variety trill ripen rea
sonably well, though probably not much, if
any, north of there. But when ripened, it is fit
only [for distilling, or for starch ; though for
making whiskey it may do, and yet we doubt
even that, and Warn . our readers against plant
ing it except as an experiment."
1b1i1" 111111 (InbL
Ir7The following lines On presenting a lady
with a rose,' are neatly turned :
I prny theo on that brow of thino,
To woar this blushing flower fi r me;
Por of a lovo as puro ns wino
Tho roso will a fitting enillins
Its leaves aro like thy lips in him,
Its fragrance like thy balmy breath
Ah ! if thy heart wore real and true,
I'd lova thee, Jennie, until death.
TJ'The Lynn News, tells a good story of two V
boys, one of whom was boasting of tho beau-
ties of his father's house.
It's got a cupola, said he, and we aro going
to have something else.
':What is it' asked his, interested compan
'
EM
Why I heard Father say to mother this
Morning that it's 'going to have a_mortgage on
As lifo is sometimes bright and fair,
And sometimes dark and lonely,
La us forget its rain and care,
And note its bright hours only,"
Et:TA pediar, overtoook another of hib tribe,
on the road, and thus accosted him :
" Hallo, friend what, do you carry r
" Rum and Whiskey," was the prompt re•
Ply
• " Good !" said tho other ; " You may go
ahead, I carry gravestones."
rile who iu this world would rise,
Must read the Register nud advertise
[l:7'Four things come not back ; the spoken
word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the
neglected opportunity. 1,
yo t r,-girls who have
for they shall not be
!or - hero is • lady out in Arkansas who has
d : .venteen sbands during sixteen years,
and is still alive nd ready for another !