The star of the north. (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1849-1866, December 04, 1851, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

>. W. Weaver Proprietor.] Truth and Right—God anfl #nr Ceuafry. [TRII WUh I'M
Is published every Thursday Morning, by
stairsin thcNcw Britk building
on thesoulhside of Main street, third
sqimre below Market.
TERMS TWO Dollars per annum, if paid
Within six months from the time of subscri
bing ; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid
within the 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
twenty-five cents for each additionl inser
tion. A liberal discount will be made to those
who advertise by the year.
Tli • Proud Miss Mac Bride.
ax JOHN a. till.
O ! TERAIBLE proud was Miss Mac Biide,
The very personification ot Pride,
As she mimie'd along in Fashion's tide,
Adown Broadway—on the proper side—
When the golden sun was setting^
There was pride in the head she carried so
Pride in her lip, and pride in her eye,
And a world of pride in the very sigh
That her stately bosom was fretting ; j
A sigh that a pair of elegant feet,
Sandal'd in satin, should kiss the street—
The very same that the vulgar greet
-Iu common leather not over "neat"—
For such is the common booting ;
.(And Christian tears may well be shed.
That even among the gentlemen bred,
The glorious Day of Morocco is dead,
And Day and Martin are reigning instead,
On a much inferior footing !)
•O, terribly proud was Miss Mac Bride,
Proud of her beauty, and proud of her pride
And proud of fifty matters beside—
That wouldn't have borne dissection ;
Proud of her wit, and proud of her walk,
Proud of her teeth, and proud of her talk,
Proud of "knowing cheese from chalk,"
On a very slight inspection !
.Proud abroad, and proud at home,
Proud wherever she chanc'd to come,—
When she was gla l,\ when she was glum ;
Promt as the head ot a Saracen
•Over the door of a tippling shop !
Proud as a dutchess, proud as a lop,
"Proud as a Ooy with a bran-new top,"
Proud beyond comparison!
It seems a singular thing to say,
But her very senses led her astray
Respecting all humility ;
In sooth, her dull, auricularpfrum,
Could fiud ill Humble only a "hum,"
-And heard ro sound of "gentle" come,
Iu talking about gentility.
What Lowly meant she didn't know,
For she always avoided "everything low,"
With care the most punctilious ; j
And still queerer, the audible sound
Of "super-sillly" she never had found
In the adjective supercilious !
The meaning ol Meek she never knew,
JJut imagined the phrase had something to do
With "Moses"—a peddling German Jew,
Who, like all hawkers, the country through, '
Was "a person of uo position
And it seemed to her exceedingly plain,
It the word was really known to pertain
To a vulgar German, it wasn't germane
To a lady of high condition !
Even her graces—not her grace—
For that was in the "vocative case"—
Chill d with the touch cf her icy face,
Sat very stiffly upon her !
She never confessed a favor aloud.
Like one of the simple, common crowd-
But coldly smiled, and faintly bow'd,
As who should say ; " You do ine proud,
And do yourself an honor!
And yet the pride of Miss Mac Bride,
Although it has fitly hobbies to ride,
Haul really no foundation;
But like the labrics that gossips devise—
Those single stories that often arise
And grow 'till they reach a four-story size,
Was merely a fancy creation I
'Tis a curious fact as ever was known
In human nature, but often shown
Alike in casde and cottage,
That pride, like pigs of a certain breed,
Will manage to live and thrive on "feed"
As poor as a pauper's pottage !
That her wit should never have made bet
Was—like her face—sufficiently plain ;
And, as to het musical powers,
Although she sang until she was hoarse,
And issued Notes with a Banker's force,
They were just such notes as we never en
For any acquaintance of ours !
Het Birth indeed, was uncommonly high—
For Miss Mac Bride first opened her eye
Thro' a sky-light dim, on the light of the
sky ;
But pride is a curious passion—
And in talking abo it her wealth and worth,
She always forgot to mention her birth,
To people of rank ami fashion !
Of all the notable things on earth,
The queerest one is pride of birth,
Among our' fierce Democracie !"'
A bridge across a hundred years,
Without a prop to save it from sneers—
Not even a couple of rotten peers—
A thing for laughter, fleers and jeers,
Is American aristocracy !
English and Irish, French and Spanish,
German, Italian, Dutch and Danish,
Crossing their veins until they vanish
In one conglomeration!
So subtle a tangle ot blood indeed,
No heraldry-Harvey will ever succeed
Iu finding the circulation !
Deper.d upon it, my snobbish friend.
Your family thread you can't ascend,
Without a good reason to apprehend
You may find it waxed at die farther end,
By some plebiau vocation !
Or, worse than that, your boasted line
May end in the loup of stronger twine,
That plagued some worthy relation !
But Miss Mac had something beside
Hex lofty litlh to uourisb her pride—
For rich was the old paternal Mac Bride,
According to public rumor :
And he lived "up town," in a splendid square
Ami'kept his daughter on dainty fare,
And gave her gotns that was rich and rare,
And the finest rings and things to wear.
And feather enough to plume her !
An honest Mechanic was John Mac Bride,
As ever an honest t ailing plied,
Or graced an honest ditty ;
For John had worked in his early day,
In "Pots and Pearls," the legends say-
Ami kept a shop with a rich array
With things in the soap and candle way,
In the lower part of the city !
No "rara-avis" was honest John,
(That's the Latin for "sable swan,")
Though in one of his fancy flashes,
A wicked wag, who meant to deride.
Called honest John "Mr.PAonixMac Bride,"
"Because he rose from his ashes !"
Linle by little hs grew to be rich.
BV saving of candle-ond-Zand "sich,"
'Till he reached, at last, an opulent niche, —
No vety uncommon affair:
For history quite confirms the law
Expressed in the ancient Scolish saw :
A Mickle may come to be mair!
Alack ! for many ambitious beaux !
She hung their hopes upon her nose—
(The figure is quite Horatian !)
Until from habit, the member grew
As, vt ry a Hook as ever je fci aw,
To the commonest observ alien 1
A thriving tailor begg'd her hand.
But she gave "the fellow" to understand
By a violent manual action,
She perfectly scorn'd the best of his elaa,
And reckon'd the ninth ol any man,
An exceedingly Vulgar Fractioh !
Another, whose sign was a golden boot,
Was mortified with a bootless suit,
In a way that was quite appalling;
For, though a regular sulor by trade,
He wasn't a suitor to suit the maid,
Who cut him off with a saw—and bade
"The cobbler keep to his calling."
(The muse maid let a secret out—
There isn't the faintest shadow of doubt,
The folks who oftenest sneer and flout
At "the dirty, low mechanicals,"
Are they twhose sires, by pounding their I
Or coiling their legs, or trades like these—
Contriv'd to win their children ease
From poverty's galling manacles )
A rich lobacconist comes and sues,
And, thinking the lady would scarce refuse
A man of his wealth and liberal views,
Began, at once, with "If you choose—
And could you really love him—"
But -the lady spoiled his speech in a huff,
Willi an a iswer rough and ready enough,
To let him know she was op to snuff,
And altogether above him !
A young attorney, of wining grace,
Was scarce allowed lo "open his face,"
Ere Miss Mac Bride had closed his case
With true judicial celerity ; y ,
For the lawyer was poor, and "seedy" io
And to say the lady discarded his suit,
Is merely a double verity !
The last of those who came lo court,
Was a lively bean, of the dapper sort,
"Without any visible means of support,"
A crime be no means flagrant
In one who wears an elegant coat,
But the very point on which they vote
A ragged fellow, "a vagrant."
A courtly fellow was Dapper Jim,
Sleek and suple, and tall and trim,
And smooth of tongue as neat of limb
A maugre Tus meagre pocket,
You'd say from the glittering tales he told,
That Jim had slept in a cradle of gold,
With Fortunatus to rock it!
Now Dapper Jim his courtship plied,
(I wish the fact could be denied)
With an eye to tlio purse of the old Mac
And really "nothing shorter !"
For he said to himself, in his greody lust,
"Whenever he dies—as die he must-
Anil yields to Heaven his vital trust,
He's very sure to 'comedown with iho dust,'
In behalf of uis only daughter."
And the very magnificent Miss Mac Bride,
Half in love, and half in pride,
Quite graciously relented ;
And, tossing her head, and turning her back
No token of proper pride to lack,
To be a bride without the "Mac,"
With much disdain, consented 1
Alas ! that people who've got their box
Of cash beneath the best ot locks,
Secure Irom all financial shocks,
! Should slock their fancy with fancy stock,
And madly rush upon Wall-street rocks,
Without the least apology 1
Alas ! that people whose money nffairs
Are sound, beyond all need ol repairs,
i Should ever tempt tho bulls and bears
Of Mammon's fierce Zoology !
Old John Mac Bride, one fatal day,
Became the unresisting prey
Of Fortune's undertakers ;
And staking all on a single die,
His founder'd bark went high and dry
Among the brokers and breakers !
At his trade again, in the very shop,
Where, yeats ago lie let it drop.
He follows his ancient calling—
Cheerily, too in poverty's spite,
And sleeping quite as eouud at night,
As when, at Fortune's giddy height,
He used to wako with a dizzy fright,
From a dismal dream of falling.
But alas ! for the hau( lity Miss Mac Bride,
'Twas such a shock to her precious Pride I
She couldn't recover, although sho tried,
Her jaded spirits lo rally
'Twos a dreadful change, in human affair;.
From a place "Up Town," to a nook "Up
From an Avenue down to an Alley !
'Twas little condolence she had, Cod wot
From her "troops of friends," who hadn't
Tho airs Bhe used to borrow ;
They had civil phrase enough, but yet
'Twas plain lo see that their "deepest re
Was a different thing from sorrow !
They owned it couldn't have well been worse
To go from a full to an empty purse :
To expect a "reversion," and get a reverse,
Was truly a dismal feature !
But it wasn't strange-they whisper'e-at all!
That the Summer of Pride should have its
Was quite according to Nature !
And one of tho chaps who make a pun,
As if it were quite legitimate fun
To be blazing away at every one
With a regular double-loaded gun,—
Itemark'd that moral transgression
Always brings retributive slinks
To candle-makers, as well as kings :
For "making light of cereowi thiugs,"
Was a very wick-ed profession !
And vulgar people the saucy curls—
Inquired about "the price of Pearls,"
And mock'd at her situation ;
' She was n't ruined—they ventur'd to hope
Because she was poor, she needn't mope—
Few people were better off for soap,
And that was a consolation 1"
And to make her cup of woo run over,
Her elegant, anient, plighted lover
Was the very first to forsako her;
"Ho quite rebelled the step, 'twas true—
The lady had pride enough 'for two,'
But that aloue would never do
To quia! the butcher and baket!" I
And now the unhappy Miss Mac Bride
Tho mearest ghost of her early pride-
Bewails her lonely position >
Cramp'd in the very narrowest niche-
Above the poor, and below the rich—
Was ever a wose condition 1
M O A L .
BECAUSE you flourish in worldly afiairs, I
Don't be haughty, and put on airs
With insolent pride of station !
Don't be proud, and turn up your nose
At poorer people in plainer clothes,
But learn, for the sake of your mind's repose,
That wealth's a bubble '.hat comes-and goes !
And that all Proud Flesh, wherever it grows.
Is subject to irritation.
Vtnfkcr and Webster on the Tart/I",
We give the following correct and useful !
extract from a report of the Hon. Robert J' I
Walker on the subject of the tariff.
"Nations cannot grow rich by dostroying ■
or restricting their commerce; and if the
restriction is good, the prohibition must bo
better. Commerce is an exchange of pro-'
ducts; specie often adjusting balances, but
constituting so inconsiderable a part of the j
value of products and property, but a small j
portion of sales can be for specie, but must'
be in exchange for other produotr. The at-'
tempt, then, by high tariffs, to make large {
sales for any length of time for the specie ol
Oih— .miio.!., in impracticable, atul DMI di- '
minish the quantity and price of our exports.
As specie sales for long periods or great ox
tent are impossible, that nation which, from
the surplus products of its own labor, at the
best price, purchases at the lowest sale tho
largest quantity of the products of the labor
of the woild, progresses in wealth most rap
idly. Thus, if one nation, by high duties,
should forbid its citizens purchasing any of
the products of other nations, except at a
greatly advanced prioe, or should restrict the
exchange of the producls of its own labor
for tho products of the labor of other nations,
such restricting nation would certainly re
ceive less of the comforts or necessaries of
life in exchange for the products of its own
labor, and in this manner (the wages of labor
being connected with the value of its pro
ducts) depresses wages. If there were three
nations—the first raising breadstuff's, the sec
ond sugar, and the third cotton—and the first
restricted the exchanges of its breadstuff's
for the sugar of the second, and the cotton
of the third, it would cercainly gel less su
gar and cotton in exchange for its breadstuff's,
than other nations which encourage free ex
changes. Labor, then, untaxed and unre
stricted in all its exchanges and markets,
will certainly receive in exchange a larger
amount of the products of labor, and conse
. quently accumulate wealth more rapidly
I than where labor is restricted in its products
to a single market, abandoning the profits of
the exchanges with other nations. It is thus
clear that a tax or restriction on commerce
is a restriction or lax Updn labor, And falls
chiefly upon the wages of labor ; and it will
soon become an axiomatic truth, that all tar
iffs are a tax upon labor and wages. One of
the most common errors is to compare our
imports, exclusive of specie, with our do
mestic exports, exclusive of specie; and if
there are more such imports than exports in
any one year, such balance of trade is s#t
down as so much lost by foreign commerce
to the nation. A singlo fact proves the falla
cy of this position. From 1790 to ths pres
ent period, our imports, exclusive of specie,
have exceeded our domestic exports, exclu
sive of specie, several hundred millions of
dollars; yot our wealth has increased with a
rapidity unprecedented. The- theory there
fore is disproved by the facts; and the rea
sons are obvious, of which the following are
among tho most prominent: The producls
of our whale fisheries extracted by our har
dy seamen from the ocean, and most clearly
one ot the great products of Amortcan in
dustry, whon imported hore are included in
the list of our foreign imports, and go to
swell several millions of dollars evoyj, year
this alloged unfavorable balance. The earn
ings of freight in foreign commerce by our
crews and vessels are not brought into the
account, or olten against us, when invested
in foreign imports. The profits of exchang
ing our imports, or of sales of foreign pro
ducts, do not appear in the balance, or, if so,
to a very limited extent, or often against us.
Thus an American merchant ships from Bos
ton acaigo of ice during the winter, valued
at that xi/no; as an export, a very small sum.
He sends it to Calcutta, and sells it at an ad
vance of ihedtand per cent. The proceeds
he may invest there in the purehaso of goods,
which he call bring to Liverpool, and proba
bly sell at a profit of twenty or thirty per
cent..; and the aggregate profits realized at
Calcutta and Liverpool he takes home in spe
cie, or in imports, or in a bill of exchango,
which he probably sells at a premium for
remittance. Yet these profits may never ap
pear, or may even appear as an unfavorable
balance under the head of imports.—Upon
the same fallacious theory, i f , instead of pur.
chasing millions ot foreign fabrics from tho
profits of foreign commerce, such valuable
foreign articles were presented gratuitously
lo the American merchants, and brought by
him into the country, they would swell this
alloged unfavorable balance of trade."
The foltowing is *■? xtract from a speech
of Daniel Wobster, and gives an accurate
view of the voxed question relating to the
balance of trade, and the Whig heresy that
the exportation of specie is ruin to a country.
"Now sir, the whole fallacy of this argu
ment consists m supposing that, whenever
the Value of imports exceeds that of exports,
a debt is necessarily created to the extent of j
the difference; whereas, ordinarily, tho im
port is now more than tho result of the ex
port, auguntenfed in Value by the labor ol
transportation. The excess of imports over
exports, in truth, usually shows the gains,
not the losses of trade ; or in a country that
not only buys and soils goods but employs
ships in conveying goods also, it shows the
profits of Commerce and the earnings of
navigation," and to illustrate his position at
page 283 he cites the fact that ''some yoars
before that, a ship left one of the towns of
New England with 70,d00 specie dollars-
The proceeds to Mocha, on the Red Sea, and |
there laid out those dollars in coffee, drugs.
| spices, &c. With this new cargo she pro
j ceeded lo Europe, two-thirds of it were sold
' in Holland for £130,000, which she brought
I back and placed in the same Bank from the
j vaults of which he had taken her original
I outfit. The other third was sent to the ports
! of the Mediterranean, and produced a return
j of 25,000 dollars in specie, and 15,000 dol
lars in Italian merchsndize. The6o sums to
\ gether make $170,000, imported, which is
SIOO,OOO more than was exported, and is
therefore proof of an unfavorable balance of
trade to that amount in this adventure. We
should find no great difficulty, sir, in paying
off our balance, if this were the nature of
them all. The truth is, Mr. Chairman, that
all these obsolete ami exploited notions had their
OHgiik in vy IUOM of tho j
turo of Commerce."
It is a subject of complaint by some of
our speakers, professing Democracy and ut
tering whig sentiments, that tho present
limes are owing to the exportation of specie.
Here again we refer to the same speech,
page 286, 7, for a refutation of that argu
''These are the shallower reasoners (says
Webster) that those political and commer
cial interests who would represent it to be '
tbe only and gainful end of commerce to ac
cumulate the precious metals. These are
articles of use and article of merchandize,
with this additional circumstance belonging
to them, that they are made by the general
consent of nations, the standard by which
the valure of all other merchandize is to be
estimated.—There tnay after the precious
metals too much or too little in a country at
a particular given time, as there may be of
any other artiole. Then the market is over
stocked with them, as it often is, their ex
portation becomes as proper and as useful as
that of other commodities, under similar cir
cumstances. We need no mom repine,
when the dollars which have been brought
here from South America, are despatched lo
other countries, than when coffee and sugar
take the same direction.— [How true is thii
now of the gold from We often
deceive ourselves by attributing to a scarci
ty of money that which is the result of other
EPIGRAM. —The following epigram is very
clever. The reader has only to erase tbe
name, substitute that of Miss , mark a
paper round, and send it to her :
"Maria's like a clock Ihey say,
Unconscious of her beauty ;
She regulates the live long day,
Exact iu every duty.
If this be true, such self command,
Such well directed powers,
O ! may her little minute hand
Become a hand of ours I"
LOVELT. —An interrogatory of silver sweet
' noes aad an answer of diamond beauty, are
contained in the following method of get
ting to go home with her;—
The moon shines bright ;
Can I go home with you to-night ?
The stars do too ;
I don't care it you do.
SHARP RETORT. —Two smart fellows, ri'
ding after a fast nag, observed a farmer sow'
ing seed, and one of them accosted him
'Well, honest feilow, its your businoss to
sow, but we reap the fruit of your labor.'
'Tis very likely you may,' replied tho far
mer 'for t am sowing hemp.'
The Last Folly.— A volatile young lord,
whose conquests in the female world were
numbetless, at last mariicd. 'Now my lord,'
said his lady 'I hope you'll mend.' 'Mad
am,' replied he, you may depend on it, this
is my last folly'
Full half of mankind will never get through
searching up money-matches for themselves
until the other half has done with hbldihg
the money. That is a fixed fact, which no
one will attempt lo call in question.
Tom Turnabout was one of the penniless
ones. Not that it was by any means the
fault of his own, but it merely happened to
be so ; it was "in his stars" to be poor. And
what made tho matter worse, beside being
poor, per se tie was a poor barrister—a situa
tion rendered by all odds exquisitely distres
sing ; for a briefless barrister is always short
of everything, from soap to suits.
Tom was, withal, an individual of more
than ordinary personal attractions—o far as
the opinion of tho majority of the other sex
went—ar.d upon this opinion he oariy deter
mined to found pretty much all his future.
IVith his affable and excessively social man
ners, it would have been uo wonder at all if
he did not have to undergo many a pang in
the measurement ofhis living by his circum
At last, by one of those most fortunate
throws of the dice of chan'Ce of which we
read or hear but rarely, Tom Turnabout was
married, and that to a lady of fortune. It
seemed to him as if the fortune' was accu
mulated for his use and behoof alone. And
on his wediling-day, no man was anywhere
to be found who could make show of a lar
ger share of enjoyment in ptospoct.
Matters went on well enough for a time—
as well, perhaps, as ought to have been ex
pected ; lor the "briefless barrister" was
now possessed of a comlortable home, and
assured of an excellent living, with a young
and pretty, wife ; for Mrs. Euphrasia Turna.
bout, as every lady said, was a verry pretty
young woman. Her hair curled, her eyes
were of a jet black, her baud was delicate
and lily-white, and she knew how lo dis
pense the most gracious and bewitching
smiles: how could she be otherwise than
pretty? And if pretty, likewise amiable ?
At least so thought for a lime Tom Turna
bout, esq., who esteemed himself her liege
lord and master.
But there was one thing that seriously trou
bled Tom, and that was, how to broach the
subject of coming in due possession and
management of his wife's property. Fot
this he had married ; could it be that he was
no better off now ? The thought alono made
him giddy.
He went round and round the subject in
his mind for a long time, at each revolution
becoming the more perplexed. Alno single
time dared he to nerve his courage up to the
effort necessary to be made in order to have
the matter completely understood between
them. Euphrasia had never attended to tho
subject of money, simply going ahead and
managing the household as if she had fully
resolved to count at least one in its manage
ment and classification. Tom had repeated
ly hinted to her about "depositee," "bank
stocks," "taxes," and all the other minute
appurtenances to the possession of a fortune)
but hitherto to just no purposo at all ; she
made neither revelation nor explanation—
leet of alt did she betray her native acuie
ness by taking a hint.
Such a state of affairs was worrying Tom
into a fit of desperation, if not into his grave,
and hs finally made up his mind to come to
an understanding, in some way or other, just
as soon as practicable.
So long as it was necessary to keep the
embers of hope alive, he had sedulously
avoided all his former acquaintance, lest he
might toojsudden ly give a shock to the deli
cate nerves of his wife, and thus lose his
chances altogether. But as soon as he found
that disguise helped him hot a whit, he
screwed up his courage to venturing a bold
push that should settle all. He finally be
came a convert to tho sentiment so epigram
matically expressed by the poet:
"He either fears his late too much,
Qr his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all."
Accordingly he laid himself out to bring
matters to a head at onco.
"Dick," said he to a companion ofhis,
ore afternoon, as they sat together in a little
office of the latter, "Dick, I'm in a quanda
ry !"
"A quandary !"
"About what
"I want soma money."
"You want money ! Why, how much
did you marry, pray ?"
"Moro than I shall ever get, I fear."
"Well, that's a good one! But what's the
trouble ?"
"Do you keep a secret ?" asked Totb ih a
"Try me, and see."
"I married money, you know."
"Everybody says so, you know."
"And everybody thinks so, but me ! There's
a plenty of money in the case, but unlucki
ly there's none Id be had! I can't lay hold
of it!''
•'Ha! ha !ha 1" laughed Dick, in his face.
"You laugh, hut what wduld you do 1"
"What would I do?"
"Yes ; what shall I do?"
"Nothing is easier," replied Dick.
"I hope not," said Torn, "but how shall I
go to work ?"
"Have you breached the subject to your
"Haven't dared to; she won't let me, in
fact F>
"Then run up a bill or two."
Then what?" asked Tom, earnestly.
"Have it sent at such a time to the house,
and be sure not to be at home."
"I never thought of that."
"She will oither pay i: or blow,"contitiued
"But what if the latter 1" #
"Then you have got ait the cdre of your
subject, and you can go ahead after that as
circumstances will best allow."
"I'll try it—l'll act on your bappj sugges
tion I"
"True; what will you have 1 Shall we go
into Carter's and get one of his nicest team's,
and lake a drive on to SpikeVifle 1"
"You couldn't have hit the nail more ox
aclly on the head, let's go at once !" said
That was a afternoon—tho remainder
of it —and it began a new era. To be sure
it was a step in the dark, but Torn hoped
that it would lead to happy results and plen
ty of money.
In due time the bills began to cotrto in.
One morning the doorbell rang; it'ehanc
cd to bo about nine o'clock. The servant
answered the summons and carried a bill up
stairs to her mistress. The bell rang again,
and there came a second bill. A third time,
and another bill. Mrs. Euphrasia Turna
bout now began to grow alarmed.
Presently came along the dinner hour. It
duly found Tom Turnabout, esq., at home j
and at the table.
All during tho meal he anxiously scanned
the features of his wife, trying his very bost
to imagine her as feeling extremely happy
in enjoying the privilege of paying her dear
husband's bills; but ha succeeded in read
ing no buch expression on her face; lie look
ed for the slightest trace of it in vain.
It was too perplexing. Thcro sat Euphra
sia, worth her fortune, over against him at
table—a mountain of gold, as it were, with
in his reach, but ho not alio lo pick off even
a shiny scale from its surface 1 She was as
calm as a delicious cool summer's morning:
he, on the other hand, WB3 burning up with
disappointment and chagrin:
He declared within himself that he could
stand it no longer. It was a few steps be
yCr.d human endurance. Better din at once
than live long in this suspense,
be, at last, he meekly remarked to his wife,
"Euphrasia, was there anything brought
here this morning for mo?"
"Yes, dear," she replied, "there wore
three bills for horse-hire, and confectionery,
refreshments, and one thing and another;
but I did not read them particularly—you
know that's not a lady's business "
"Was there a bill for iilrniture, too ?" in
quired the agitated Torn,
''Yes, dear ; I paid that and took a re
ceipt—but the others, your personal malteiS,
you know, those I carefully placed in your
escritoire, where you could readily find them
when you wished to. I hope you do not
consider me too inquisitive in just looking at
them to see what they were!"
Tom was not possesed of any too much
philosophy, and this last serious sally of his
wife quite upset what little he had. Swal
lowing his dinner as fast as he could with
safely do it, he pushed for Lis office. Ere
long his old friend Dick made his appear
"Well!" said Dick, "how goes it, Tom?"
"It's no go,', surlily answered Tom.
"How uow ?" Were the bills paid
Tom explained the whole.
His friend admitted that it would be ex
ceedingly hard to get round a woman who
understood hereof and Aim so well, especially
when she held the purse strings.
Tom gavo it up allogelhor. That afternoon
ho spent in reflecting upon tho extremo
worthlessness of his relying for an indepen
dent living upon another, and in forming a
strong resolution to go ahead, and do some
thing for himself.
Tbe lesson he learned chanced to be a
most valuable one, which many a married
lady may at her leisure give her husband, to
his decided advantage.
Tom Turnabout, esq., became a respecta
ble member of his profession; able to earn
sufficient to pay his carriage and oyster
house scores, at least, and at'home ho nevor
knew what trouble meant.
A Palpable Hit.
A lawyer once plead with great ability the
cause of his client for nearly an hour. When
ho had done, hi® antagonist, with a supercil
ious stieor, said he did not understand a
word the other said; who neatly replied, 'I
believe so, for I was spoakihg law."
A FAIR HlT. —'Here, you bog trotter,'
said a half dandy soaplock to an Irish labor
er, 'come tell the biggest lie you evei told
in your life, and I'll treat you to a whiskey
punch.' 'An by me sowl, yor honor's a
gentleman,' retorted Pat.
Is#" The last case of indolence is related
in one of our exchanges—it is that of a
man named John Hole, who wak so lazy that
in writing his name, he simply used tho let
ter J, and then punched a hole through the
A PAIR OF THEM. —There is a man in
Pleasant Street, so sharp that he has only to
lather himself, and look into the glass—he
never r.eeds a razor to shave with. And an
other so dull that his wife has to strap him
every morning.
IF The mnn who thonght he could coax
a lawyer to take "a doller less," is now try
ing, to set fire to an ice-berg with a cigar.
NUMBER 45. '
Ho Rather Gilt tier.
Several years ago, when one of our pres
ent justices of the superior Court was Dis
trict Attorney of a neighboring county, rath
er a laughable incident occurrciij related by
himself. Court weeks he used lo dccSfr a
bed room at Col. Lew is's, who kopt tho
principal hotel at that county seat, flo hill
his books and papers in this room—here ho
drew his indicttneiits—and in important ca
ses ltd oseil to direct the sheriff to bring up
the people's witnesses for preliminary ex
It happened al one court that lie had an
important murder case coming on. Tho
celebrated Gen. [now Judge] Nye was coun
sel for the defendant. He examined tho. wit
nesses, as usual, ahd (6ok careful minutes of
what they wbiild state (in flta stand. Ito
found that a lady was the most importhnl
wiiness for (he people, and he also discov
ered that she was rather oxcitable and high
strung, and a fast talker.
Apprehonsive of trouble, he thought he'd
caution her a Trftie. So he fold her When
she came on the stand not to talk. "Pay 4'.
lention," said the district attorney, "to ray
questions, and answer them, but don't talk.
And when Nye comes to examine you, you
mu-t he very cnruful and not get excited, for
he's a great blackguard, and will try to get
you mad. Just pay abolition lo his ques
tions and answer tliem—nn matter how of
ten repeated or how apparently silly, but
don't allow him lo get you off vour bal-
The district attorney and witness parted
for the night. The next day the caso cam*
On. The district Attorney called his witness
auJ she went through w-th her evidence, on
Jhe part of the people, to his perfect admi
ration, and handed her over to Nye. HO
went along awhile very smoothly. Pretty
soon he begau to crowd her, and she begad
"ffare up;" he crowded her the more, ami
sho resented the more, and very soon they
made a regular breeze. Finally, loosing all
self-control, sho broko out on him ns fof-
"1 won't answer any more of your cotii
temptible questions ; you are a nasty, dirty
blackguard, and the district attorney told ms
After the laugh partially subsided, Nye
says :
"What ! the District Attorney told yolk
so !— When and where did ho tell you so ?"
"J/c told me so lust night, up in Col. Lewis's
be.l room."
The scene which followed the nn'swe)
may be readily imagined. In the midst of
the shout, Nye told the witness sho mi"ht
"pass." ' 6
CT To many it is a rnditer of surprise
that there should be so much competition for
tho post of whig candidate for the Presiden
cy, and so little for that of the Vice Presi
dency ; since the former position seems to
attended with so much ol peril, and the lati
ler with so much of good luck. There up.
pears to be a fatality about the first office ifi
whig bauds, which makes it peculiary a
post of danger; and a corresponding good
fortune about tho latter offico which makes
it substantially the post of honor. We were
prepared lor a long list Of whig candidates
for the Vice Presidency, but supposed tho
whigs might find some difficult) in getting a
candidate wi'h sufficient hardiltodd lo stand
for the first plsce. >Ve were, however, al
together mistaken in this, for there seems lo
be no lark of whig names nmbitious of lha
hOnors of martyrdom.— 'Erie Observer.
* .
Preventive of Jealousy.
A beautiful young lady having colled 001
an ugly gentleman to dance with her, he
was astonished at the condescension, and
believing that she was in lovo with him, iii
a vory pressing manner desired to krrow
why she had seleoted him from the rost bf
the company. 'Because, sir,' replied the la
dy, 'my husband commanded me lo select
such a partner as should not give him cause
for jealousy.'
rent lmcntnl.
Bulwer, or somebody else writes:
"What more precious offering can be laid
upon tho altar of a man's heart than the firet
love of a pure, oarnost and affeotionate girl,
with an undivided interest in eight corner
lots and fourteen three story houses I"
No Sinecure.
Colonel M was complaining that,
from tho ignorance and inatonfion of bis offi
cers, be was obliged to do tho duty of ttiei
wbola regiment.
'I am,' said he, 'my own captain, nfi'y own
lieutenant, my own coronet,'—'and trumpet
er, I presume,' said a lady present.
Conjugal Aflecuou.
Madame Geoffrin, disagreeing onoo with
a literary gentleman, the dispute became
very waim, and many high words were ex
changed with great acrimony. 'How uow,'
said a mutual friend of theirs, stepping be
tween them, 'can it be that you are clandes
tinely married."
W Russia will be 1000 years old next
year; and her thousandth birthday is to be
celebrated with great splendor. Kossuth,
probably, would rather go to her funeral.
,|r A Western poet, in speaking of the
moon, said ; —"She 'laid her cbeek upon a
cloud like beauty on a young man's bosom.'
O, git eout.