THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
R. W. Wearer Proprietor.]
VOLUME 2.
TUB STAR OF THE NORTH
Is published every Thursday Morning, by
R. W. WEAVER.
OFFICE—Up sloirs in the New Brick building
on the south side of Main street, third
square beluw Market.
TERMS : —Two Dollars per annum, if paid
within sir months from the time of subscri
bing; two dollars and fifty cents if not pnid
within tho year. No subscription received
for a less period than six months : no discon
tinuance permitted until all arrearages are
paid, unless at the option of the editors.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square,
will be inserted three times for one dollar, and
Iwonty-five cents for each additional insertion
A liberal discount will be made to those who ad
vertisc by the year.
TOO YOUNC TO LOVE.
BY THOMAS lIAYNF.S BAYXT.
They say yon are too young to love,—
Too young to be united;
In scorn fhey bid us both renounce
Tho fond vows wo have plighted.
They send thee forth to see the world,
Thy love by absence trying;
Then go ;. for I can smile farewell—
Upon thy truth relying.
I know that Pleasure's hand will throw
Her silken nets about thee;
I know how lor.esomc I shall find
Tho long, long days without theo.
But in thy letters ther'll be joy;
The reading,—the replying
I'll kiss each word that's traced by thco, —
Upon tny truth relying
When friends applaud thee, I II sit by,
In silent rapture gazing;
And, oh ! how proud of being loved
By her they have been praising.
But should Detraction breathe thy narno,
The world's reproof defying,
I'd love thee,—laud lliec,—trust thee still.— ]
Upon thy truth relying.
E'en those who smile to see us part,
Shall see us meet with wonder ;
Sucii trials only makn the heart
That truly loves grow fonder. _
Our sorrows past shall bo our pride
When with each other vieing ;
Thou wilt confide in him, who lives
Upon thy truth relying.
Old Fut's Gallows.
An Incident of the Revolutionary WnY.
Near Peekskill, not far from the main
road, stands a clump of forest trees, among
which an aged hteWary is r.,mwu.*hal conspi
cuous.
It bore for along time, and still hears, 1
bclievo, tr.e naino of''Old Put's Gallows,"
from the fact that many a Tory spy, skinner,
and thieving cow-boy had swung from its
branches when Putnam commanded on the
lines.
lii llie early part of August. 1777, General
Tryon was at the British outpost* near King's
bridge. It will be remernbereil that he was
the royal Governor of New York at the com
mencement of the Hevolulion, ami a full co
lonel of the British regulars.—After the war
broke out he was placed on active service,
ami raised to a general's rank, with power to
recruit and equip a Tory corps or brigade
from tho Americans who yet remained loy
al to the crown and Goverenment of Britain.
For a long time it had been a favorite pro
ject with Putnam that an attempt should be
made to re capture the city of New Tork,
and from all accounts, it appears that Wash
ington did not like the plan, but with pru
dent caution did not wish to hazard at the
tune the risk of a defeat. Pu'.nam, however,
mado several feints and false movements at
liia outsposts to alarm Sir Henry Clinton J in
which he succeeded, and thus kept 'ha Brit
ish troops within the city for its protection,
that athorwise, aided by the (loot, would
hare been ravaging the adjacent shores of
other States. It became necessary to Sir
Henry Clinton that he should kno ir the po
sition and condition of Putnam,* troops more
accurately , also endeavor if possible to as
certain what parties in the city gave Putnam
such accurate information o f his, Clinton's,
plans.
Tryon was busy raising his new levies',
and for him Sir Henry Clinton sent
'General Tryon,' he raid, ! I must know
the position of Putnam's troops and tloir
number, including his fresh battallions of
militia You ought to find some one—a na
tive—that has enlisted in your corps that will
go into llib highlands and obtain if for us
The reward shall be liberal, and if success
ful, the person shall be advanced a grade '
'I think I have such a man, Sir Henry, a
sergeant Is De Lancy's regiment He enlist
ed only a week ago, and is intelligent and
nmbitious He has friends on the other side
that do not know that ho has joined t'S yet '
JThe very man Go and send him. Gen.
TTyon was absent about two hours, for he
bad to send to Harlem, where the sergeant i
was stationed, undergoing a drill with oth
ers of the new levies under their officers.
'l've seen the man and had a long conver
sation with film,' said Tryon, when he en
tered. 'He is willing to undertake it on ono
condition, and that is only a condition of
pride.'
'What is it then ?'
'That he shall receive a lieutenant's com
mission at once. He will then deparlthein
slant you require, and is confident of suc
cess.'
'Do you know him to be worthy of reli
ance V I
'Froth all that I can loam, and from my
own judgment I should not doubt it in the
least.' J
Tho young sergeant soon made his ap-. |
fcearanco. He was not more than three and
Lrenty years of ago, of geod personal ap-
ILraoce, and a cunning twinkle about his
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 23, 1851.
small black eye,'denoting no want of confi
dence in his own good opinion. Sir Henry
was bM> well pleased with him that his In
structions were soon completed ; and receiv
ing his commission, the young lieutenant
bade the British commander farewell, to re
turn in a few days with tbe desired informa
tion. On reaching his quarters he ohanged
his military apparel for a plain countryman's
suit, ripping the lining of his cocked bat un
der which he placed his commission, which
he carefully re-sewed, saying to himself:
'I think when Miss Hosa Mtlford sees my
commission, as an officer in his Majesty's
service, she will no longer refuse the hand of j
Nathan Palmer.'
Tl.e next morning he loft tho farther out
posts at Kingsbridge, on horseback, where
Gen. Tryon hod accompanied him, to pursue
his expedition. It was a beautiful morning,
and he looked forward with all the anticipa
tions of pleasure, and hope gleamed warm
ly in his [breast. He passed the neutral
ground without molestation, and advanced
into what was considered the American dis
tricts without being troubled by any of the
occasional travellers on the road, although
every ono was armed and carried a musket-
Now and then he met an American yeoman
or farmer with whom he was acquainted,
that knew not of hit defection lor ho was
born in that section of the country, and resi
dents within a wide circle were then consid
ered neighbors.—Late in the afternoon he
cantc tvithin sight of the regular Amcrioan
outposts, when ho turned off the main road
by a narrow one that led lo a mill and dwel
ling on tho batiks of a small but rapid
stream.
Let us for a moment look into the dwel
ling and notice its inmates. One was a girl
of about eighteen, and a fine instic beauty,
engaged in some trilling housework, but
mainly listening to the conversation of a
lively-looking, brown romplexioned young
man, in a half military garb. It is evident
that what he said pleased her, for she
'looked at him from time to timo, as she
smiled archly, with fondness.—These two
were Ho-a Milford, the miller's daughter,
and William Townley, a neighboring far
mer's son, an ensign in tho American army,
lying near.
'Who is that, William, coming toward the
i house on horseback ?'
'As I live,' said the young man, 'it is your
old spark, that sly rascal, Nathan Palmer,
the dominie's nephew, who despised him ;
and cast him off. The rogue, I heard in aj 1
private letter this mor.iing, ill tit he had cn- ,
listed in the refugee corps. If I knew cer- I'
tain, he would swing for it. Depend upon j 1
it. Rosa, he is here for 110 good purpose.' I
'Do not be seen, William, leave me to '
manage him.'
The young man left by a back door, no^L 1
out of hearing, as the tory lieutenant and
spy entered by -he front. Ho advanced with
a bold step. 1
•Rosa, 1 have but little time to spare, and j
want your answer at once. Read that. j
He took the commission from the lining of j
his hat, and placed it before her.
'Some difference between holding a com- 1
mission in King George,* service and being 1
a ragged continental!'
'Nathan Palmer,'said Rosa, sternly, 'I j
always disliked you—now I kale you,' and 1
she banded him his commission.
"Do you reluse to bo my wife now V
'Vour wife! Leave the house, or I shall
be tempted to loose the dog at the mill upon
you.'
'Good bye, Miss Rosa,' he said, grinding ;
his teeth in anger. 'Look to your father's
mill—your house—yourself—1 will be aven
ged !' And he mounted Lis horse and rode
swiftly away.
llosa hastened to the back doot to look |
| for her lover. He was just leaving for the j
; camp, and the wave of his hand indicated
that he knew Palmer's errand. Ha hasten
ed to the camp, hart an interview with Put- I
nam, and the latter issued his [.livate orders.
Palmer came into the lines that night with
the freedom.of an old companion and hav
ing as he supposed accomplished his errand,
was about taking his departure, when he !
was arrested, and the fatal commission was
full proof of his guilt as a spy. After a
brief trial he was ordered to be hung on
Put's gallows the next afternoon.
Before the hour of execution came, Tryon,
who beard of the arrest, sent in a flag, de
claring it murder to hang a mere civilian who
happened to ba a royalist, and threatened re
taliation. He was not aware that Palmer's
commission had been found upon his per
son. Putnam wrote back this brief and
memorable note :
HEAIXIITARIERS, Aug. 7, 1777.
I Sir Nathan Palmer, a Lienlenan* in
your King's service, was taken into my camp
as a spy. He was tried as & spy ; he was
condemned as a spy, and you may rest assu
red, sir, he shall be hanged as a spy.
I have the honor to be, etc.
ISRAEL PUTNAM.
His Excellency, Gen. Tryon.
P. S. Afternoon. He is banged.
Such was 01d Put'—prompt to execute
and deoide. The hickory tree still remains
standing near Peekskill.
TELEGRAPH FOR CALIFORNIA. —The U. S.
Senate, the other day, received the petition
of JOSIAH SNOW, A. BANGS, and associates, of
1 the Atlantic and Pacific Telegraph for
a subscription or donation of $300,000, in
aid of a Telegraph Line from the Missippi
I to California, to be finished in eighteen
• months from the passage of the bill. II
1 was referred.
Sceue in a Railroad Car.
BY OCKAMUS.
Tis often said ( j lat (rut h is stranger '-ban
fiction. To such as would doubt the vera
city of the same as a test, 1 advise to take a
downward trip in any of the 27th st. cars, in
N. Y, on any Sunday evonlng between the
hours of 9 and 10. It is a well known fact
that those oars, like an omnibus in a rainy
day, are never full—not even when its in
mates are packed as close as pilchards in a
cask, for the conductor is sure to find a lit
tle more room on the platforms, and if need
bd offthe roof itself.
'Plenty of room, marm. Gentlemen will
please give their seats to the ladies,' says the
conductor, as an elderly lady squeezes
through the crowd
' Will you take my eeat V asks a young
gentleman.
'Don't do it, Charlie, you will tire your
self standing,' whispers his sweet heart. —
The lady by edtvig, squeezing and pushing,
arrives at length to the proffered place.
'Wat the divil do you mean by that—sure
if any lady is to be sated, ye should give it
to the lady wid me, who's bin standing iver
since we left.'
'l'll give it lo whom I please.'
'Don't mind him, Toddy, I'm a better la
dy nor site is, for all her fine silk dress And
jewels.'
Ting, ting, gpes the bell.
'Let this lady out—make roojp towards
the door.'
'Blood and nouns ! kapo off me toos and
be d—d till ye.'
'Pardonz, Monsieur, excuse—it be von
vat you call, sacre blue acshidenfi'
The moment-she lady rises to leave, snmo
twenty persons rush forward, jostling her
and themselves to secure the resting place.
'Corre out of that—this lady got in the
seat first.'
'No, she didi.'l.'
'I say she did, and I'll have the place if I
have to fight for it.'
'Conductor step this way if you please.'
'Yes, sir, I will if I can, allow me to pass
if you please, you ate so crowded that 1
cannot.'
'Plenty of room for a dozen yet,' calls out
the driver In they come, some threo or
four.
Ting, ting, ting.
'Driver, stop,'tnwts nut an old lady, 'if
you take any more in I'll complain to the
mavor.'
'Sorry I can't oblige you madam, hut I
must have full fare or I shall lose my siteva
shun, (To the horses,) Get up.'
'Can't you spit your nasty tobacco juice
clear of my shoes?' asks a dandy.
'Tell me that agin and I'll smash a chaw
in your face.'
' 'ITh-rodo la-loo!'
'Oh my new diess! Conducter, here's a
man vomiting!'
'Poh! what a stench—open the-windows!)
'Na, na ye matiado that, my bairn is nea
weel, and the cauld wind will ho hurtful.'
'What's that ye say, (hie) what the devil
are ye stopping for, driver, (hie) did ye nev
er see a man drunk (hie) before!'
'Oh,my new dress is spoiled !'
'Serves ye right—what business had ye to
come in with it on !'
'Begar, zar, is dis vat you call mannarcs,
hey V
'Yohn, zhall we not bettare jump out?'
'Yaw, I link it more bettare as good for to
go.'
'Sit still, if you please ; if you are going
farther down, don't move, it will cause con
fusion,' says the conductor.
'I say Tom, give us a chaw of tobacco.'
'Here, help yourself.'
'What in the de'il shall Ido with the old
quid—the wifidows are all down, and I don't
like to hurt the women's dresses. All the
gentlemen that are between here nnd iho
door, will much oblige by passing this old
oofjer out.'
D—o it, sui, da you mean to insult me
with vour nasty tobacco V
'Keep cool, gents.'
'Conductor, this lady is fainting—let us
out.'
Ting, ting.
'l'll have her seat, anyhow.'
'Madam, you must be tired—sit on my
knee.'
'What do you mean, sir—that lady is my
wife.'
'Who said she wasn't? I only asked her
out of politeness.'
'O mine cod, .mine cod !'
'Vat ish te matters, Hans?'
'Tat shentlemans mit hish paccy-box has
trown te schnuff inter mine eyesh.'
Ma, ma, that little boy is tickling me.'
'I ain't I onlv put my arm around her to
save it from being broken.'
'Don't squaze me so, sir.'
'Divil a happorth I'll move for ye—didn't
I pay my saxpence as well as ye for all yer
dandy clothes.'
Scenes such at these are of frequent oc
currence. Cars that were made to seat
conveniently twenty persons are often, by
the cupidity of their conductors, made to
stow sixty or seventy, and such a heteroge
neous mass of human clay aro they, tnat to
give a just idea of its ludicrous appearance,
requires actual observance ; for to describe
it correctly is ont of the power o f a Hogarth.
To those who doubt, and have a spare six
pence, I say go and judge for yourselves—
premising however, that you musf expect to
have your olfactory uervei lesloil to the ut
most. Such as can bear the infliction wil|
find their money not uselessly spent, for
they will leam more of human nature in
one short half hour than some leiarn during
their whole lnj*s
frith ail Right—-find ami Country.
UNCLE li I I, U.
Undo Bill Griffin, or Uncle Bill, as ho
was commonly called,. with an irreverent
disregard of his patronymic, did not retire
from the shipchandlery business till he was
worth something more than a plurn. Not
being blessed with a son to continue his
name and inherit his fortune, he lavished all
his tenderness and all his care upon his
daughter. Sweet Molly Griffin, thou wert as
unlike a bull-dog. His face was as hard as
a Duteh nutcracker—thine as soft as a rose
leaf.- He was the veriest miser in all crea
tion— spend thy pocket money
as liberally as a prinoe of Wales. In his
household management Uncle |Bill was a
consumate skin-flint; tAlbion says that he
used to soak the back-logs in the cistern, and
was after the lamp oil[ and he was aided and
abetted in all his niggardly schemes by a
vinegar-faced housekeeper, who was the
sworn enemy of all goad clieor, and stinted
front a pure love of mianness. Yet pretty
Mary had no reason to complain of her
father's penuriousness, As far as she was
concerned. He sent her lo the best schools,
and gave her a carte blanche ,QII the most
expensive milliners, and wlieu she walked j
Washington street on a sunny day, there
was not a more gaily bedecked damsel from
Coruhill to Essex street.
Of course, several very nice young men I
in varnished leather and while kids, fell j
over head and ears in love with her, and j
there was a larger number of whiskers col
lected outside of the meeUng the attended
on Sunday then darkened the door of any
other metropolitan church.
Yet cold was the maid, aod tho' legions ad
vanced,
All drilled in Ovidian,
Though they languished and ogled, protested
and danced,
Like shadows, they camo, and like shadows
they glanced,
From the pure polished ice of her heart,
besides, Uncle Bill was a formidableguar
dian to his attractive daughter. Did he not
lira a charge of rock-salt into the inexpres
ibles of Tom Biltkins. when he came seren
ading with a cracked guitar? Didn't ho
threaten to kick Towle for leaving a valen
tine at his door. Wasn't lie capable of uft 4 -
heard of atrocities ? The suiters of pretty
Mary were all frightened olf the course by 1
her ogre of a father, except a steady young
fellow who rejoiced imthe name of Samp
rv.u Hiitlos, aiul wUt> wus.AddiMed to book
keeping in a whosesale grocery store in
Commercial street. The qld gentleman re.
ally liked Billies; be was so staid, so quiet,
| and so full of information. He was a regu
lar prieo current, and no man on 'change
was better acquainted with the value of
i stocks. Why Mary liked him, it is more
! difficult to conjecture, for he was very defi-
J cient in the small talk that young ladias are
so fond of, was averse to moustaches, dis-
I liked the opera, thought the ballet immoral,
and considered waltzing indelicate, l'er
| haps his good looks compensated for other
I deSciences, or perhaps her hotror of dying
in a state of single blessedness induced her
|to countenance the only young man Uncle
j Bill was ever known to tolerate.
One evening Bittles screwed up his cour
age to the task of addressing the old man
on the subject nearest to his heart.
"Mr. Griffin," said he, 'Tve had some - ,
thing here for a long lime," and he made up I
a horrible face, and placed his hand some- i
where near his heart.
"Dyspepsia ?" said the old man.
"Your daughter," gusped the young one. i
"Well, what about her?" asked Uncle Bill !
skarpishly.'
"I'm in lovo with her," said the unhappy I
clerk.
"Humbug!" said Uncle Bill.
"Fact!" rejoined Biules.
"What's yourincomo ?" inquired Griflin.
"Eight hundred," answered the suppli
cant.
"It won't do, my boy," said Griflin, sha
king his grim locks, "No man on a salary
shall marry my daughter. Why, 6he's the
finest girl in Boston, and it lakes capital to
marry a fine girl. When you have thirty
thousand dollars to begin w itli, you may
come and talk with me."
Bittles disappeared. Six months aftei that
Miss Mary Griflin received a letter, with an
endorsement of Uncle Sam, acknowledging
the the receipt of forty cents. It ran thus:
SAN FRANCISCO, California, 184' J.
Dearest Mary. —Enclosed, you will find a
specimen of California gold, which please
hand your father, and oblige. Have to ad
vise you of my reluin to Boston. Please tell
your father that 1 have made fifty thousand
dollars at the mines, and shall, wind and
weather permitting, soon call upon him to
talk over that matter, and arrange terms of
partnership.
Yours to command,
, SAMPSON BITTLES.
Mary, as in duty bound, handed the epis
tle to her father, who was oveijoyed.
Some weeks elapsed, and the return of the'
steamer to Now York tvas telegraphed Grif
fin was on the qui vive to see his future son.
in-law.
On the day of his expected arrival, ho
met a Californiaii who came home in the
eamo ship.
"Where's Bittles?" ho inquired.
"Oh, ho 1 you'll see him before a great j
while," replied the Californian.
"Has lie beon lucky!"
| "Yes—fifty thousand at the lowest calcu-
I lation. But he's going to try a gamo over
you. Ho means to tell you that he's been
robbed of all his gold on his way home, to
ee if you have any generosity and disinter-
estedness—to see whether you'd give your
daughter to liim, gold or no gold."
'•Sly boy!" chuckled old Griffin. "I'm
! much obliged to you for tho hint, I'll act ao
j cordingly. Good morning."
Now it happened that the Californian
was a good friend of Bittles, and thai the sto
ry of Bittle's misfortunes was absolutely true
he having been robbed of every ounce of
his hard-earned gold dust on his way home.
So it moy be supposed ha called on Griffin
with a very lugubrious and woe-begone air.
"My dear boy," said Uncle Bill, "I am de
lighted lo see you, and pleased to hear of
your luck. I welcome you as my son-in
law. But what tho deuce is the matter with
you 1"
"Alas, sir!" said Bitlles, "I made fifty
thousand dollars at the mines "
'•Very hard luck !" interrupted the old ,
gentleman, chuckling.
"But on my way home, I was robbed of
every ounce—and now how can I claim your
daughter's hand 1"
"Sampson Bittles," said Uncle Bill, very
cunningly, "if you havn't got fifty thousand
deserve to have it—you've wot"
ked hard enough I o get It. You shall have
my daughter, and the marriage shall be cel
ebrated to-morrow night. In anticipation of
your return I have had you published. And
while you're talking to Mary, I'll draw a
check for 550,000, so that you may go into
partnership with a sufficient capi'al."
"But, eir, I am a beggar."
"So much the better—you'll work the
harder to increase your fortune."
"My dear sir, how can I thank you V'
"By making my girl a good husband.—
There—go—go—and tell Mary the news."
Bittles did tell her the news, and they
were married. He went into business on
the fifty thousand furnished him by bis fath
er-in-law, and was so extraordinary prosper
ous, that Uncle Bill was more convinced
than ever that the story was a regular Mu
chansen. Once or twice he tried to repeat
it, but the old gentleman always cut short
with :
' I know all about it. Had it put in the
papere, too, eh ? Oh, it was a terrible affair'
Lot your all! Poor fellow I Well, I made
it up to you—and now I won't hear another
word about it'"
When Uncle Bill departed this life, his
immense property was found to be equally
ctiriJoA between hie daughter and son-itl
law ; the testator bequeathed to the latter
his share to compensate him for the loss he
sustained on his return from California. The
old miser had died in the full belief that Bit
ties never lost the gold dust.
How to Make Room rti a Crowd.
A rich and influential citizen of Hartford j
Ct., who is guilty of a litlla darker skin'
than his brethren happened to be present in
N ew York City, on the occasion of a great
public meeting on the Battery, at which the
celebrated Blask Hawk, then on his tour
throughout the country, was to make a
speech, Colonel P—and his friend P ,
also a citizen of Hartford, walked down to
the Battery, but found the crowd so large
and dense, that they could not gain a posi
tion within hearing distance of the stand
oreeled for the speakers —After some delib
eration, the Colonel proposed returning to
the hotel, but his friend demurred. 'I can
manage, with your permission, Colonel, to
get a seat for each of us upon the platform.'
'How can that be done? I can hardly push
my cane into the crowd, and how shall we
aflecl an entrance with our bodies,?'
'l'll tell you, Colonel. Just let me an
noucc you as Black Hawk , and we shall be
ushered directly into the inner circle. Only
a little Indianuity, you know! What say
you V
'Agreed—but wo must muko our onset at
another point.'
They passed round to the other side, near
the entrance from Broadway, and the Colo
nel removed his hat, and assumed an air of
aboriginal dignity, while his friend 1'
cried in an exceeding loud voice,
'Boom, gentlemen ! Make way! Make
way for the great chief, Black Hawk!'
There was a buzzing in the crowd, and in
an instant it separated on either hand, under
P ' waving cane, like the waters of the
Bed Sea, under the rod of Moses.
The Colonel and P walked a'ong the
line, hardly able to meet, with becoming
gravity, the curious gaze of thousands of
eyes—but their object was accomplished—
they obtained eligible seats, and the nick
name of 'Black Hawk' still sticks to Col. P
Ct Yankee Blailc.
WOMAN, s I'IOIITS.—A curious trial has just
taken place in England. A man attempted
to kiss a married woman, against her will
'had his nose bitten oIF. He brought suit for
damages. The jury, without hesitation, ac
quitted her; and the chairman said, thai if any
man attempted to kiss a woman against her
will, she had a RIGHT to bile of kit nose, if she
had a fancy for so doing!
CiP Still in the Garden of Eden.— There
aro a man and wife living in Paradise, Noi|
thumberland County Pa., whose names are
Adam and Eve.
BCUFF RE-ISSUES.— The Ilarrisbufg flank
has racently made a [e-issue of relief notes
of the of dues and twos.
From Graham's Magazine.
THE BURIAL LOVE.
BY WILLIAM CULLER BRYANT.
Two dark-eyed maids, at shut of day,
Sat, where a river rolled away.
With calm, sad brows, and ravon hair,
And ono was pale, and both were fair.
Bring flowers, they sang, bring flowers un
blown,
Bring forest blooms of name unknown,'
Bring budding sprays from wood and wild,
To strew the bier of Love, the Child.
Close, softly, fondly, while we weep,
His eyes, that death may seem like sleep ;
And lay his hands, in sign of rest,
His waxen bands, across his breast.
And make his grave where violets hide,
Where star-flowers strew the rivulet's aide,
And blue birds, in the mists of Spring,
Of clondless skies and Summer sing.
I'la.qie near him, as ye lay him low,
His idle shafts, ins loosened bow,
The silken band that oft around
Hia waggish eyes in mirth he wound;
Bui we shall mourn him long, and miss
His ready smile, his ready kiss,
The patter of his little feet,
Sweet froivns, and stammered phrases sweet
And graver looks serene and high,
A light of heaven in that young eye ;
All these will haunt us, till the heart
Shall ache—and ache—and tears shall start.
The bow, the band, shall fall lo dust,
The shilling arrows waste with rust,
But he whom now, from sight ol men,
Wo hide in earth, shall live again ;
Shall break these clods, n form of light,
With nobler mind and clearer sight,
And in the eternal glory stand
With those who wait at God's right hand.
From the Albany Dutchman.
Cocktails and Peevishness.
Peevish people are always unhappy;
what they do themselves affording them but
little more pleasure than what is done by
o'her people. They get up with a growl and
they go to bed with the hypo. If it rains, it
makes them melancholly ; and if it don't
rain, they are in a continual stew about the
absence of "cistern water."
Asa genoral thing, females are more trou
bled with this complaint than the males are ;
and among the femoles, there is none who
ranks highei in ill-nature than the wife of f
our friend Dabster. If he brings her homo
a pine-apple, she swears it's done to throw
her into the cholera-morbus, and take her
from <; them blessed infants while if ho
neglects to bring home fruit "when it's in
season," she upbraids him' for "a brute," I
and insists that he thinks more of "that
minx" across the street, than ol his own |
flesh and blood. If he asks her to take a j
ride, she is sure it's done to "get her out of j
the way"by breaking the linch-pin, while '
his neglect to give her an airing, is invaria-1
bly set down to a mean desite to save mon- f
ey for his next wife to make a fool of her
self with. In short, let Dabster do what he
may, his sunshine is invariably clouded with !
his wife's" ill nature. To better his condi
tion, he, a shoit time since, formod a con-!
nection with a brandy bottle; for, as he pa
thetically observed, artificial happinesa is j
better than no happiness at all. Some of:
our readers, perhaps, wilt think Dabster's ;
case is an extreme one, but it ts not. J'here |
are scores of women in every community, i
whoso husbands have been taught to love
rum, not because they admired tho article,
but because they could not induce their
wives to love them. If constant dropping
will wear away stones, constant whining will
wear away affection.—Wo caro not how
much a man may cherish a woman—if pee
vishness cooks his meals and ill-nature
shares them, his taste for forbidden calico
will get the better of his resolution. How
should a peevish wife expect to escape a
husband's hate whon she hates herself 1
Let us sing.
A PATTERN TEMPERANCE TOWN.—The Bor
ough of l'inegrove, in this county, contain
| ing a population of 652, has in it four good
stores, with a number of shops, in
neither of which ardent spirits of any da.
scription sold or kept for salo. These li.
quors are not sold any where in tho Borough
except at the hotels, of which there are three
all of them we believe respectable and well
kept, with however a comparatively limited
sale of liquors. We also have the assurance
of one of the principal citizens of PineGrovo,
that there is not a ssngle drunkard within Its
borders; can this be said of any other town
of equal size in the Stato 1
Tins thorough reform has boen effected
too, within a very few years, lor wo have it j
from tho gentleman above referred to, that
all the stores retailed liquors until recently,
and that the time was when to iiis knowl
edge the annual sales of a single Store in
the Borough, amounted to not lets than four
Tierces of Brandy, two Hogshead of Rum,
two or Gin, two of VVine, and Whiskey
almost without limit—while it is supposed
that the others sold about the same propor
tion . Do not these facts justify us iu presen
ting PinegoveJ as a pattern Temperance
Town. — Pottsville Emporium.
ty* There are fifty-three newspapers and
periodicals published in Tennessee, of which
twenty-four are whig, thirteen Democratic,
nine are religious, three neutral, one agricul
tural, one educational, and two temperance.
[Two Btiiars per Aknv
NT'M ISER 52.
' Frofn the Lycoming Gnsette.
OBITUARY,
Depar ed thin life, a( liis residdnro, in thO
borough of Willlamsport, on Friday, 10th of
January, inst., ot discard ofthe heart, JOSEPH
B - AUTHOR v, President Judge of the Kighth
Judicial District of Pennsvlvania, aged 6.1
years, 6 months, and 22 days.
There is a sad and melancholy pleasure
arising from the review of the past history
of the honest and good man, after he has
gono down to rest in the dark valley and
shadow of death. With his mortal remains
we bury the follies and foibles of life, whilst
we cherish with heartfelt solicitude, the ma'
ny virtues and excellencies of character
possessed by the deceased . liis body dies,
and in mourning and sorrow we follow thd
sad relic to the house "appointed for all the
living." With sad hearts we look down
into the grave, until the earth closes froih
our eyes the embodiment of all we loved,
chetished and esteemed. We itnbue the
| grave with our tears, and retrace our steps
with heavy hearts to engage in the gav avo
cations of life, deeply impressed With the
sentimont, wo involuntarily exclaim-—''this
is the last of earth." Whilst the man dies,
the living recount his amiable qualities, his
goodness of heart, his virtues, and regret the
absence of their friend from the social board
and from tne various circles of life,
There was perhaps no individual in our
community, more endeared 10 the people a
mong whom he lived, on occount of the
possession of the various good qualities
which compose the statuto of an honest
man, than the subject of this unworthy trib
ute to his memory. Few of us maintain the
abiding confidence of our fellow-citizens, to
* greater extent than did JCSEFH B. ANTHO
NY.
Josdfcn B. ANTHONY was born in the city
of Philadelphia, upon the 19th day of June,
1T95. From thence he removed with his
parents at an early period of his life to Mer
cer county, in the state of New Jetsey, where
he received his early education. Whilst
young he journeyed to the valley of the
West Branch, and for a time, tuught school
in Milton, Northumberland county, at which
place he studied law ur.der the instruction of
that very worthy man, SiUuir. HEPBURN,
Esq. Having completed the study of the
law, he went to the slate of Ohio, and after
an absence of about one year returned to
Pennsylvania. In the year 1818 he was adt
niittad to die bar of I-learning county, and
located himself at Wdliamsport, witef? TIB
continued to reside until his death.
In tl e year 1830, he was elected by tho
democratic party to the Senate of Pennsyl
vania, to (ft the vacancy occasioned by the
death of thelatnetited Col. ROBERTM'CLURE.
In iho year 1834, he war elnated to Congress,
and two years thereafter was re-elected to
the same post by an unprecedented mojori
ily. Dnring the early part of the adminis
tration of Gov. Porter, the subject of ocrr no
tice was appointed Judge of the Nicholson
couit of Pennsylvania, and in March, 1844,
was appointed by the same Governor, Presi
dent judge of the eighth Judicial District, in
the room of Judge DONKEL, then deceased,
and like his upright predecessot, continued to
dischargo the duties of that office faithfully
until the day of his lamented death. It is
proper to state, that he held these various
important stations, either by election as ilia
Democratic candidate, or by appointment
under a democratic Governor, and performed
the duties of the soveral offices, honestly,
fearlessly and impartially.
As a man, and as President Judge of tho
eighth Judicial District, the writer knew him
well. A lover of society, and an aecora
plphed scholar, he was the soul of the so
cial circle. Possessed of those traits of char,
actcr that euduear us, one to tho other—char
itable and generous to a fault—he was be
loved by the entire community in which he
lived As a Judge, guided by stern "integri
ty of purpose, he distributed even-hsnded
justice with impartiality, whilst his honesty
of character won for him tho golden opinions
of good men. Impressed with a sense of
the mutability of this world, in one of his
last moments he exclaimed—"A is folly, it
is folly, we must leave il all." Thus has a
good and just man gouo down in peace te
ihe tomb, enjoying the plaudit of the peo
ple—"Well done, good and faithful servant,"
whilst the hundreds of his fellow-citizens
who followed him to his narrow resting
placo, are loft to lament his loss and imitate
his virtues
"The just man dies not, though within the
tomb
"His waslinar form be laid, mid tears and
gloom;
"Though many a heart beats sadly when
repose
"His silvery locks in earth, liko buried
snows;
"Yet love, and hope, and faith, with heav
< enward trust,
"Tell that his spirit sinks not in the dust.
'Above, eniraced and glorious, it hath soar-*
ed,
I "Where all its primal freshness is restored;
i "And from all sin released, and doubt, and
pain,
"Renews the morning of its youth again."
W.
Go'lMg*
A stuttering,Vermonter was asked the way
to Waterbury. With great politeness lie
strove to say it was right ahead, but in vain.
The more he tried, he couldn't.—At last,
red in the face, and furious with unavail
ing exertion he burst forth with—"Gug, gug,
go'long! darn ye! you'll gig, gig, git there
afore I can tell ye J"
far Goy. Hunt has been inaugurated.