VOLUME XL .11111MERS LOOK THIS WO; Tin oppositionsay that in a short time the ground will be ready to sow Oats, Burley, &e. Row they know this wo are nut able to say, but this much we will say, that whenever it gets ready, you had bettor give us a call for ono of tho best Grain Drills, and warranted at that, (no largo talk about refunding money,) but if the article is not as represented, it can bo returned, and all matters satisfactorily arranged. Likewise, in duo time the grass will bo in order fur hay making, and thou wo are prepared to furnish you With Allen's Mower, a splendid machine for cutting grass of any kind. And in addition, when desired, We have also the combined Mower and Reaper, of Manny's Patent, which is manufactured upon a dif ferent principle from those made heretofore, and war ranted to c ss and grain as fast as one team of horses can draw.' . nd further, we have the Pre mium Corn Sheller ~of ohigh county, and as there has been sold a very large number in a short time that have rendered universal satisfaci ion, we are con fident in saying, that it has no superior here or else where. We likewise have a mill for chopping feed, which has bden tested thoroughly in different sections, and all who have Witnessed its operations, testify to the good qualities of the mill, and recommend it to farmers as an article to save time, and likewise grain in the amount which is yearly given to millers in the shape of " toll." In short we have almost any article which farmers require for agricultural purposes, such SS Ploughs of utmost any pattern, Corn Cultivators, Revolving Bay Raises, Hay Forks, Corn Ploughs, Corn Planters, Lime Spreaders, Threshing Machines and Horse Powers of different kinds, and all warrant ed to give satisfaction. Repairing done in all the different branches, on reasonable terms and at short notice. Any person residing at a distance, in want of any of the above articles, can obtain them by a dressing the subscribers at No. SO %Ist Handie!!..' , 411lautown,Ta. - SW E R &SABI.; ER. 'GRAIN DRILL REFERENCES. Reuben Helfrich, North Whitehall: Charles Hen ninger, do; David Beery, do; David Kuhns, Maean gy ; George Beisel, Allentown. CORN SHELLER REFERENCES. David Boaz, Weseoesvillo ; • John Bortz, Cedar Creek; Jacob Wenner, Lower Macungy ; C. ,t; W. Edelman, Allentown; Reuben Gaelteubach, North Whitehall. FEED MILL REFERENCE, Charles Sengreaves, Allentown. Allentown, April 2. REMOVAL -OF BREIMG,IRIGH&BREIMG TO THEIR NEW CLOTHING HOUSE. BNEDIGH h DREINIG, feeling it no imperative duty to accommodate - the public, found it necessary to procure a more commodious place of business, and accordingly erected a PALATIAL CLOTHING HOUSE, in Hamilton street, near Ikloser's Drug Store, of whlell. they have just taken possession, being the largest, most commodious, and best arranged building for the business in Allentown. - The proprietors of this Now and Magnificent cloth ing Establishment, take pleasure in further announc ing that they have also increased their tremendous Winter Stock of Ready-Made CLOTHING, find are daily adding thereto all kinds of articles np pertaining to Men and Boys' wear, which will be ,sold at extraordinary low rates, as they go upon the principle that a " nimble sixpence is better than slow shilling." They have no trash 'of years on their I shelves, which they try to palm off for new sound goods, but on the contrary, are superior in quality, make and stile, to any establishment in the place.— Give them a trial and you will find the.PALATIAL CLOTHING .HOUSE is the place for everybody.— Their winter purchases comprise entirely new 'lndite nimble styles, such ns can not be found at any other Merchant tailoring establishment in Allentown. Their goods wore selected with the greatest care, and will be made up in the latest style and fashion, and war ranted to prove the lame as represented at the time of purchase. Observe, that every article of Clothing I sold by the proprietors of this establishment is of their own make, and may be relied upon ns being I good durable work. Among their extensive assort. scent may be found, fine Black and Blue new style , Dress and Frock Coats, made in the latest fashion of French and English Cloths, new style Business Coats, of Black, Brown, Blue, Olive and Green Cloths, and • plain and figured Cass.hneres ; Over Coats, of all qualities, styles and prices, pantaloons. vests, and in fact everything in the READY MADE CLoTIIING LINE, from nn over-coat down to an undershirt. The three great features of Breinig, Neligh & Breinig's Store are,ll4 they buy for Cash, and consequently can sell ceaper than any of the others; their goods are made up under their own supervision, and last though not least, thoy. sell them fur what th,y really are. Also, a largo stock of Handkerchiefs, Shirts, Col lars, Winter Hosiery, Under Shirts and Drawers of fill kinds, and everything in fact that is usually kept in stores of the kind. Cull and see before you pur chase elsewhere, as they willingly show what they have.• They are satisfied that all their goods bear n close examination. December 10, FURS! FURS! FURS! Aro all tho go now-a-days, and. ve are /In determined not tole behind the titne.t.— Conpequently we have procured a very large assortment, direct from the best inannfneturers in Now Yorit'eity—where Furs ore got up in the most fashionable style, and at the lowest rates. Our as sortment is composed of all the styles now in use— ouch as . ~ Sable Victorines, Tippets and Capes, Steno Marlin, . . Fitch',4 1( Imitation do. ,i II Rock Martin, ,i ~ Siberian Squirrel, " 41 Brown Coney, " • Black do. i< ‘‘ do. Lynx, ,‘ a . Children's Furs of various styles. Gent's Fur 'Collars, Caps and Gloves. 11Lbi' . We'linve enlarged our ELM( of Boots • li. and Shoos and Hats and Caps, suita ble for the FCIIBOII. Our stock of Over Shoes is particularly large, comprising all the various makes in the market, such as India Rubber, Buf falo, Calf-Skin, Felt, Web, &c., kii. ',nines and Oen geinen in want yf any of the above articles, will do nen 144 examine our stock before purchasing else where. All tho above goods sold at Wholesale at a liberal discount to merchants in the country. YOUNG k LEH, No. 45 East Hamilton Street. Allentown, December JO, MG. OLIVER, ATV 01 TAX IVY ILA AV UFFIbE' In East Ha milton street,' rtrly oppos i tt Beaton AmaricanHotel. • PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFF,NDERFER AT ONE'DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM. THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER, OR, THE REVERSE OF FORTUNE. (Concluded from our last.) There seemed to be a new life infused into the kneeling wife and daughter as he spoke, for she sprang to her feet and gazed firmly into his face. - - 'Do I hear aright ?' she uttered ; can such words fall from my father's lips ? No ; you were right—you are not my father. I will not leave him, no, even if I die with him ! Leave my husband to perish—unattended, uncared for —never !' Then reap the reward of your folly,' was the merciless reply, and share his sufferings As be spokehe threw himself into his sent, and motioned her away. There were no more relieving tears for her ; the fountain of her heart-spring was effectually sealed ; and with a face of marble paleness she turned to leave the room. ' 0, that my sainted mother were alive !' she involuntarily uttered aloud, as she reached the door, ' she could not witness Ler Alice suffering 119231 Why did that proud man start when he heard those words ? Perhaps the gnawings of a _ Italy conscience were already commenced. CHAPTER 111.-A STR ANGF.R'S CITARITT As Alice emerged into 'the cold air, and heard the door of her father's house closing upon her, she felt that hope was quite extinct ; and I were it not that the helpless ones at home were waiting anxiously for her return dependent for very life upon her efihrts, she would gladly have laid down her life as a burden too heavy to be borne. Faint and weary she turned once more into Broadway, that great pulsing artery of the city, nearly sinking to the earth beneath her load of grief and misery. The trying scenes which she had passed through doling the. past hour had almost deprived her of rea son ; and as she walked clown the street her head was bowed upon her bosom, and she heed ed not the few persons who passed her, nor stopped to solicit alms. Thus she continued on until she reached the corner of Anthony street, when, a vision of the hopeless condition of those at home again rising before her, she pauccd, and murmured to herself : = I must not return yet. No, no—l cannot appear before those famishing ones with noth ing to relieve their wants. I will make one more trial, and if that fail.' she continued, rais ing her eyes to heaven, if that fail God help us!' She cast a hurried g7ance up the S treet, and as she did so, beheld a muffled figure approach ing,•upon the other side. She quickly crossed the street, and wailing beneath the light of a lamp until he was within a pace of her, she stepped directly in front of him and exclaim ed ' 0, sir, if pity can move your heart, pity and assist me. lam dying of cold and hunger. My husband is very ill, and my helpless child ics in vain for bread. Since yesterday morn ing we have not tasted food. .Help, help, as you hope for heaven The man, at first, was about to thrust her rudoly aside, but ere she had concluded 'he seemed fascinated to the spot : for there was something in her tone, in the, frenzied look of her uptufned eye, and in the violence of her words that spoke of such utter desolation and despair that his attention was irresistibly ar rested. • Can this be true ?' he littered. There was a kindness in his look and tone that ,spoke to her heart of hope. ' Indeed, sir, she replied, ' I have not told you half we have endured.' • Then your story is a fearful one, indeed.' ' Ah, could you but look in upon the place where we reside, and with your own eyes be hold to what extremes of poveky we have been driven you could not doubt the truth of what I say.' ' Is it far from here where you reside ?' 'But a short distance—justdown that street,' she said, pointing with her finger down the I dimly lighted and gloomy avenue opposite. '.I will accompany you home,' said the stranger, as he turned in the direction. 0, sir, may God reward you for-dour kind ness.' IMB ' I shall be amply rewarded for serving you by mi. , own conscience: You must not perish for want of assistance.' We shall owe you a debt, nevertheless, that cannot be repaid.' Lead on.and I will folloiv. Every moment is precious when fraught with life or death.' With a joyful heart Alice turned to recross Broadway, tho.stranger walking by her side.— Ho noticed the thin and scanty garments which served to cover her slight and shivering frame, and generously taking from his own shoulders the warm cloak which enveloped him he threw it about her, remarking, ' Draw that around you, madam.' 0, sir, this is too great a sacrifice of your own comforts,' she exclaimed, as she endeav ored to make him retain it.. Nay,' lie replied, resisting the efforts, ' you are very cold ? and need its protection more than I.' Allentown, Pa., February 4, 1857. With a murmured blessing for his kindness two large, round drops, and rolled slowly down She hurried onward, her protector now walking i his cheeks. by her side, while, at her request, she related, I Surely, Mr. Alton, after all thy display of as they went, the history of their marriage and Ihard-heartLdneas, a good angel still hovered subsequent life. They had continued down I above thee, and with a touch of its•heavenly Anthony straet until they had attained a close ; wand drew a flood of water from thy soul. proximity to the Points,' that great hot-bed I ' Strange !' he exclaimed, starting up as he of crime and profligacy, when Alice suddenly' spoke,' that I should be thus moved at what turned into a narrow alley reeking with filth, has passed. I had thought to forget her. But and a moment after entered the low hall of an ! her sudden appearance here to-night—that np old, rickety building, in the last stages of di- I peal for aid—those looks of anguish—all seem lapidation. The stranger had followed unhesi- ,to forbid it.' tatingly in her footsteps. ; He arose and paced the apartment, musing This way, sir, if you please,' said Alice, as to himself as he moved, and striving to subdue she turned to enter. the emotions which held possession of his heart. I will follow,' was the reply. A most Bat all in vain ; for a few moments he resisted miserable place, truly.' , an inclination which had seized him., and then, ' It is, indeed ; but you need have no fear yielding to the impulse which he could not con now. You-will soon see the truth of what 1. , trol, he advanced to Ale table and sprung a have told you.' I never fear in doing an act of charity,' he said, as he entered behind her. tp,t wo flights of bonding, creaking stnirs they passed, and through a hall shrouded in darkness. Groping her way along, the woman at length laid her hand upon the latch of door, which yielded'at once to her touch and both:entered. By the light of a small piece of candle, which was burning upon the bare shelf above the empty fireplace, there was discovered to the gentleman a scene of misery the like of which he had never.before beheld: Al, the further cx tremity of the room, -bpon a bed composed - Of mere rags and straw, lay a man whose sunken eyes and hollow cheeks spoke of long continu ed suffering. By his side reposed a sleeping child of scarce three years. The I'oolll was destitute of furniture save 'a couple of broken chairs, an old table, and a few other almost worthless articles. As the two entered the sick man raised his head and glanced quickly toward the door. Muggy, dear,' he feebly uttered, ' why have you stayed so late ?' ' I have been trying to obtain money,' she replied, advancing to his side, ' and had almost given up in despair when T arrested the atten tion of this kind gentleman. See, Allen, he is here, and promises to a'ssist us.' Thaiiks, tlranlcs, generous sir,' faintly said the husband, turning his eyes upon the stran ger : if I live I will ono day repay you for your kindness.' Speak not of that,' replied the stranger, ' you need immediate assistance. I had not thought it possible that such misery could exist in the heart of a clu istian city.' ' Indeed, sir, we - have sufficred bitterly.' ' I believe it. You must be assisted without delay. It is too late to remove you to-night, but what can lie done shall be to relieve your immediate wants. A warm fire and food must be procured ; here is money sufficient for every purpose. Can you obtain what you will need ?' he inquired of the wife. ' 0, yes, and near at hand,' was the reply. ' Then do so, and tomorrow I will call and see that you are removed from this dismal place. Be assured I will not forget my prom ise ;' and amid a shower of blessings from the grateful pair he turned from the spot and ,re traced his steps toward Broadway. : In a short time. thereafter the wretched; apartment which he left presented a scene of; comfort which had long been absent from the place. CHAPTER IV.-CONTRITION When the daughter had left the room Mr. Alton sank back into his chair with no enviable feelings stirring his bosom. Rage, which had at first alone influenced him, gradually sub Si ded, and 'the last words which his wretched and despairing daughter had uttered, upon leaving the room, still rung in his ears 0, that my sainted mother Were alive !' Why did that sentence recall so vividly the I scenes of his former years ? Before his imagi nation came up the picture of his beloved wife, even as she appeared when standing at the al tar, with a look of trusting afnction ; and then he seemed to see her form as it lay stretched upon the bed of death, her lovely face all pale and cold. He stood again, beside her, her bloodless hand clasped tight in his, and there, too, giving.way in the full intensity of childish sorrow to her grief, his beautiful young daugh ter stood—that daughter whom he had but now driven forth into the cold night air, destitute and almost dying. Sitting thus, the glow of the warm fire fall ing full upon his face, his head reclining upon the velvet lining, of the chair, and his eyes closed, he found it impossible to resist the crowd of memories that stood revealed to his mental vision. A feeling of tenderness over came him as his thought still lingered around tho beings whom he had so loved; and a shade of remorso flitted over his countenance. For now his own fait-haired, beautiful child, whom his darling wife, with her dying breatlil-dig confided to his care, was a - houseless w through the streets of that great city 4 Pico to pride ; while ho, in the enjoy every comfort that wealth could pro:my), had not a want. On a sudden, while reflections like thesevero passing through his mind, there gushed from between the closed lids of his eyes Len. The same servant who had announced his daughter answered the summons. ' James,' said Mr. Alton, ' do you think the young woman who was here a short time since has left the vicinity ?' Yes, sir,' was the reply: ' You sfo." her, then, as'she left the place ?' "1 noticed, merely, that she passed rapidly toward Broadway.' . InUced ! Should you knOW her again, think you, we i c you to meet her ?' 0, yes ; I remember her features verydis tinctly.' . 'Dien hurry into the street and follow the direction which she took. Find her if possible and bring her back. Make baste that she may not escape you.' With an air of vexation the servant proceed ed to obey the commands he had received, and in a moment after left the house. Again Mr. Alton seated himself and impatiently awaited the return of his Messenger. It is singular,' ho murmured to himself, his thoughts following their former train, ' it is singular how vividly the appearance of Alice calls up the slumbering memories of the past. It is now three years since I cast her forth with a malediction, vowing never to see her more. My pride revolted at the thought of one like him--her husband—becoming a son of mine ; and I have striven ardently to banish from my heart all feelings of affection—to sever all ties that existed between us. But it cannot be ; must yield at last. Pride, wealth, ambition-- all are insufficient to recompense me for the loss of her, my daughter. And now, although my angry impulses forbade me to forgive or assist her, when so suddenly she appeared before me, now that she is gone, reason has returned to me, and I feel desolate without her. Yes, I cannot hide from myself that I love her still, and the natural impulses of the soul will and must be obeyed. I will find her—forgive her —lake her once more to my house and heart, f.,r I cannot endure the recollection of her suf ferings longer.' Ile once more started from his seat, and throwing a heavy cloak about his shoulders, hastily left the apartment. ' I will seek her myself,' he uttered aloud ; • she must be near at hand—she cannot have yet returned to her *retched husband, if, in deed, they arc so destitute as :die stated.' Leaving the house, he quickly reached Broadway, and for nn hour he wandered up and doWn that great thoroughfare, casting a sharp glance down every alley and cross street, and peering into the face of every poor object he met, whose appearance resembled in the least that of his child—but all in vain ; and, at l e ngth, with a depression at heart to which ho had long been a stranger, he turned his foot steps homeward. • But may not James have discovered her,' he suddenly exclaimed ; ' perhaps she is even now nt home.' The thought inspired Mtn with renewed hope, and he hurried forward with greater speed. .As he entered the.house lie met his servant who had but just returned in the hall. James replied to his master's look of inquiry with v. shake of the head. I could not find her,' he said, ' although I traversed Broadway to the Park, and several side streets where I thought it mostlikely she would frequent.' • With a sinking heart Mr. Alton passed to his apartment. There, for a long time, ho sat with his faco buried in his hands, reflecting upon the strange events which had transpired. ' I will yet,' he uttered aloud, after a long silence ; ' I will find her if within my power.' ' But,' ho added, while a shade of agony crossed his features, ' she spoke of actual star vation. What if it be too late !' CHAPTER. V.-THE IVEALTRY DAUGHTER AN THE BEGGAR FATTIER. Our seen now changes to Philadelphia., Ten years had passed away since the night on which A ce Darnley had sought her father's o s wit charity ; and the eve of another 'lre v Year had approached. The night was col and tempestnous—the piercing, wind driv ing ho snow and sleet through the air, and 'il hurli g it to the faces of those without. . It was T early ten o'clOk when an old man, poverty-st token' and in . i gshis form bent low bailee h the , eight o -- misery rather than r - dorer a sacri- years, was slowly moving along Market street. ingly. ' Draw nearer still. There,. seat your pausing now and then to let his longing eyes :•self and when you aro warm you shall receive feast upon the tempting array of delicacies, food' which were invitingly displayed in the win dows of such shops as yet remained unclosed. Many a sigh he uttered as he passed along, and once or twice, a broken exclamation of des pair fell from his lips. Turning off from the main street which he had been following, he proceeded along appar ently unconscious of the course he was taking, until at length he found himself wandering along Walnut street where, finally, his strength quite exhausted, and his limbs benumbed with cold, he sank down•upon the marble steps of a neat but elegant dwelling, so many of which adorn that portion of the city. ' A few years ago,' he muttered to himself, as ho drew his shrinking form more closely to the side-wall, to protect himself from the searching wind, ' a few years ago I would have deemed it impossible for man to reach so' ex treme a state of destitution in this christian land: But now, I myself am forced to drink the: bitter dregs of poverty, rendered doubly bitter by the reflection that I doomed her—my poor - girl—to a fate as pitiable. 0, that I had proved myself a father when she sought my prote4on from the dread enemies who now torment me. 'llad I so done I sho . uld not at this hour have been a wandering outcast upon tho world, friendless and alone, with no gentle hand to soothe the declining years of my life with a true daughter's tenderness:' A sob burst from him as he ceased to speak, and two largo tears rolled down' his aged checks. Bat,' lie continued, his yoke tremulous with emotion, ' justice is being meted out, and a merited punishment is inflicted upon me in expiation of my crimes.' • Why do you weep old man ?' • The vagrant quickly raised his eyes, and srw standing before him the form of a man yet young in years, richly apparelled, and with a noble and intelligent face. A look of sympathy, too, was plainly visible upon his features. Why do you weep ?' he repeated. The tones of the old man were husky and tremulous as he replied— ' I. weep over the follies of a lifetime—over the effects of a false pride, and the crimes which it has entailed'. ' A strange reply, truly,' said the young man, whO appeared suddenly to have co a strange interest in the miserable boil ME ' But no more strange than true.' ' You are guilty then of crime? ' Yes clime of the heart if not of the hand. Poverty, distress, remorse, and a thousand evils are the effect.' ' Are you in want ?' inquired the gentleman touched at his tone of melancholy. Since yesterday morning,' was the reply, • I have not tasted food.' ' Great 'Heaven ! can this be true ?' ' You seem surprised ; 'but I utter no word of untruth.' ' hen arise and come with me.. Such mis ery Shall not exist when in my power to avert.' Thanks, thanks, good sir; may heaven re ward you for the generous action in behalf of one whose sands of life are almost run.' 'No thanks now, but come with me. It is fortunate you paused here upon my steps.' • This then is your residence ?' •It is.' And he raitg, the bell as he spoke. A moment after the door was opened, and the two men entered. Within an inner apartment was seated a I lady yet young in years: engaged in- reading, while beside her sat a faii-haired boy of some seven summers, his howl resting upon her lap.. At the entrance of her husband the lady quickly arose, with a glad smile of welcome wreathing her beautiful face, while-the. boy ran joyously towards him and clasped his hand within his own. It was a bright and happy home-scene, and the eyes of the o!d man who had paused in a humble attitude at the entrance, lighted up for a moment as he witnessed it ; and then as a thought of his own desolation returned to him his eyes became dimmed, and a heavy sigh escaped him. His mind, in ono moment, had travelled. backward twenty years, and he be held his own wife, as lovely a being as the one before him, and—he started—oh ! how won• derfully like her, greeting him affectionately upon his return from the duties of the day.— And then, as quickly the vision .vanished; and he was a pauper, again. No wonder it called up a tear. ',Maggy, dear,' said the gentleman, sudden ly recollecting . the old man, ' I have hero ono whose situation should ,excite. our warmest sympathies—an aged man in the extremest destitution. For a whole day has ho not tasted food.' Indeed,' she replied, glancing at - the object of her husband's remarks, you have done well to bring the poor man .home with you. Ile shall receive assistance.' Sho, too, was strangely affected at a sight of the old man's features and she addressed him kindly. • Como forward to the fire,' she said ; ',yon must be very cold. It is dreadful to be a home less wanderer on such a night,' she added mus. May Heaven's choicest blessing's rest upon you, madam,' he uttered in a fervent though tremulous voice, gazing with earnestness in her face. "nem are few—too few, alas !in this world, possessing your spirit of kindness and charity. Porgikc me for gazing so rudely upon your features, but the sight of yon recalls ono whom I loved long ago. I have not been ways thus. A few sholl years agol had wealth, a fair wife, a loving daughter. The wand of destiny has touched me, and everything is changed. All aro gone—wife, daughter, for tune.' Ile bowed his head upon his hands and wept silently. The throng of memories that arose seemed to•open the fbuntains of his heart. Indeed,' said the lady, in a soothing tone yours must have been an eventful of voice, Mil ' Eventful ! alt, yes. And oh ! how sad has been its course fur the'past few years. Yours is the first kind voice which has greeted my ear fur many a day,' he eßclaimed, turning to. tho gentleman, land you must pardon the emotion exhibit. Yoitr look, lady—yoar tone of voice --every thingreminds meof one wh . ', perchance, is yet a wanderer like myself. My daughter ! oh, my daughter. Would I had died crc I spoke the harsh words which made you an outcast.' There was such an expression of agony in the old man's tone that he drew a tear of sym pathy from his hearers: She is not dead then "?' inquired the lady at length 1 know not,' lie replied ; hope she lives.' And why did she leave you ?' I wild tell you all. Once I was ono of tho wealthiest men of New York, with a loving wifo and daughter. Death robbed Inc of one, and my own insanity—for so I will term it—depriv ed me of the other. My daughter, a few years since, married against my will, and I drovo her from me. The one she wedded had sought her hand of me, but I dismissed him with in sult, and without my consent they were uni ted.' A glance expressive of astonishment passed between the gentleman and his wife. The old man continued— ' Months passed away When one day my aughter appeared before me, and craved my assistance. Her husband, unable• to obtain employment, was reduced to the lowest stage of poverty, and could not furnish food even for his family. Blinded by passion I denied, her any aid, and drove her forth from my house.— A long time elapsed, when, one winter night— such a night ns this—she again appeared be fore Inc, and importuned me to save her and those whose destinies she share 1 from starva tion. Pale and- emaciat4l, driven to the last. stage of suffrring, she appealed by all the ties that once bound us, to secure her from despair and death. My first emotions were injured pride and anger, and I thrust hei forth again into the dreary night, without relief. 0, how I have cursed that hour !—how I have repented that fearful wrong !' . As the spaker's eyes glanced towards the lady, he saw with surprise her face buried in her hands, and tears falling through her fingers. r ig before -e7 A few words more will suffice,' added the old man. My daughter, on that night, had not left mrpresence long before an entirely new feeling sprang up within me. I Saw the guilti ness of my course: and inspired with a zeal to repair the wrong I had done I hastened out in search of my poor child. My search was vain, and from that night I have not seen her.' The lady arose, as lie ceased speaking, and stood before him. Despite your miserable appearance,' sho ut tered, I cannot be dcceii•cd. Tell me, what is your name ?' ' Thomas Alton.' I knew" could not be mistaken !' she ex claimed with a glad cry. 'Do you not know me father ?' The old man sprang to his feet with a look of surprise. No—no ! it cannot be !' he cried. • ' And yet—' I am your child, Margaret !' There was a scene ensued which cannot be described. Wild words of joy—greetings and suppressions of thanks—tears both penitential and forgiving—warm and fervid embraces—all ,followed. And when at length their first trans port of joy had somewhat subsided, the father told his now found children the history of his misfortunes—how alter his daughter had visit ed him, he had sought in vain, formany months, to find her out—low before a year had passed, heaty losses had befallen him, until eventually he became a bankrupt and a beggar—how for mer friends shunned him, and all refused hint aid, till he was forced to beg the very bread he ate—how he had passed from place to place, and had at last—that night—happily como to their own house. • And she, in return, happily unfolded to him the story of her trials, and how on the night she had parted from him, she had met the gen erous stranger who proved to be a Phibldelphia I merchant, and had, after the :recovery?: her husband, taken hint into his employ and'atiil - delta,. Two years passed and. ho had • died, leaving her husband a portion of his vast wealth; and firmly established in business. , Add thus time glided on, till the city cloaks. lba I told the hour that ushered in the glad New' Year. The day that folloived was the happiest to those three' f any that had passed for years, an 1 many more scorned destined to gladden. their hearts. - • • NUNBEE. , AB. • but. I hardly tiara
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