THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
R. W. ireawr, Prepi-ltUr.]
VOLUME 9.
THE STAR OF THE NORTH
I* ri'BUSIICU EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING BY
K. W. WEAVER,
tojTMCE —Up flairs, in tkenetr brick build
in#, on Ike south side oj Mam Street, third
Kjunre beimc Market.
•I' Kit SI 8 Two Dollar* per annum, if
paid within six month* from the lime of sub
ecribing ; two dollars ami fiffv cent* ir not
paid within the year. No subscription ra
,-eived for a lc* period than six months; no
discontinuance permitted until all arrearage*
•rts paid, unless at the option of the editor.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square
Svill be insetted three times for One Dollar,
bltd twenty-five cent* for eacli additional in
sertion. A liberal discount will bo made to
those who advertise by the year.
From the Mete York Ledger.
}ilLI. BROWN'S VISIT TO DOTH AM.
BY JOIIN 0. SJXE.
iQui rurcs kominum multorum vidit et CRBAW.
Hill Brown resides near a conntiy village,
And has tilled his till by honest tillago
Of good mother Karth;
Who kindly gives birth
To whatever, in tact, ha* market-worth,
Or real value, or general use,
.From the largest ox to the fattest goose—
Whatever is good to eat or wear,
To keep us warm or make us fair—
All come* alike from good mother Earth.
Ju sooth, but trace the process out,
And you'll find beyond a rational doubt,
That almost everything we see,
However high in its degree,
However fine, or rich or rare.
Ja but a kind of Karlhen-usiie
And so Bill wrought
As a farmer ought,
Who, doomed to toil by original sinning, !
Began—like Adam—at the beginning.
He ploughed, he harrowed, and ,te sowed; t
He drilled, he itlanted, and he hoed;
lie dug and delved, and rasped and mowed. !
(I wish 1 could—but I can't—tell now
Whether lie used a sub soil plough;
Or whether Bill had ever seen
A regular reaping and raking-machine )
He teok mosi paina
Willi t'te nobler grains
Ol higher value and liner 'issue*
Which, possibly, one
Inclined in a pun
"Would call—hk* H.nptr— his 'verso/issues!"
Willi * heal his lands were all a blaze;
Twaa amazing lo sen his ticlds oi maize;
And there were places
Thai showed ryrlacea
gAs pleasant in see as so many Graces.
And as for hops,
lbs annual crops
(So very extensive that, on my soul,
They fairly reached from pole to pole!)
Would heai tho guess of any old lovie,
Or the longest season at Saratoga !
Wha ever scad did rami abound,
In the grand result that Autumn louttd,
It was his plan,
Though a moderate man,
To be eatlv rit tiling it into the ground;
Thai is to say,
In another way:—
Whether the seed was barley or hay,
Large or little, green or gray—
Provided only it was like "to pay,'"—
He never chose to labor in vain
By stupidly going against the grain.
But hastened away without stay or atop,
And carefully put into his crop.
At.il he raised tomatoes,
Ar.d lots of potatoes,
More sor:s, in sooth, than I could tell;
Turnips, that always turned up well;
Celery, all that he could sell;
Grapes by the bushel, sour and sweet;
Beets, that certainly couldn't be beat:
Cabbage—like some sartorial mound;
Vine, that lairly cu cumbered the ground;
Some pumpkins—more than he could nouse,
and
Ten thousand pears; (thai'twenty thousand!)
Fruit of all kinds and propagations,
Baldwins, Pippins and Carnations,
And apples of other appellations.
To sum it all up in the briefest space,
As you may suppose, Brown flourished apace.
Just because he proceeded, I venture to say,
In the muthi-uhosum ws/tgi ous way;
That is—it yon are not University bred—
He took Crockett'eadvice about going ahead
At a'l the State Fairs he held a fair station.
Raised liorsea and cows and his own reputa
tion;
Made butter and money; took a Justice's
niche;
Grew wheat, wool and hemp: corn, cattle,
and—rich
But who would be always a country-clown ?
And so Bill Brown
Sat himself down,
And, knitting his brow in a studious frown,
He said, says he:—
It's plain to see
And I think Mrs. B. will be apt to agree,
(If ahe don't it's much the same to tr.e.)
That 1, Bill Brown,
Should go to town!
But then, say a he, what town shall it be ?
Boston town is consid'rably nearer,
And York is fanher, and so will be dearer,
But then,of course, the sights will be queerer:
Besides. I'm told, you're surely a lost 'un,
If you once get asiray in the streets of Boston.
York is right angled ;
And Boston, right tangled,
And both, I've no doubt, are uncommon new
fangled.
Ah!—the' Smiths." I remember, belong to
York,
(Twas ten years ago T sold them pork )
Good, honest trades —I'd like to know them.
And so—'tis settled—l'll go lo Goihatn !
And so Bill Brown
Sat himself 4own,
With many a smile an I never a frown,
And rode, by rail, to tl at notable town
Which I really think well worthy of mention
As being America's greatest invention !
Indeed, I'll be bound that it Nature arid A:.,
(Though the lormer, being older, has gotten
the start.)
fn some new Crystal Palace of suitable siz,
Should show their ckefs-d'auvrt, and contend
for the prize,
The latter would prove, when it came lo the
scratch,
Wbate'er you may think, no contemptible
match;
For should Mr. Nature endeavor to stagger
her
By presenting, at last, her majestic Niagara;
Miss Art would produce an eqnivalent work
lo tier great, overwhelming, unfinished New
York!
And cow Mr. Browu
Was lairly in town,
In that part of the city they ued to cll 'down,'
Not far from the spot of aocient renown
A being the acene
Ol the Bowling Green,
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 1857.
A fountain that looked like a huge tureen
Piled up with rocks and a squirt between:
But the 'Bowling' now has gone where they
tally
'The 101 l of the Ten,' in in neighboring alley;
And as the'(been'—why that soil will find
Whenever you see ihe 'invisible' kind !
And lie stopped at an luu that's known very
well,
I 'DelmonicoV once—now 'Stevens' Hotel;'
j (And to borrow a pun which 1 think rather
' witty,
1 There's 110 belter Inn in ibis Inn-famouscityO
And Mr. Brown
Strolled up town,
| And I'm going to write his travels down;
i But if yon suppose Bill Brown will disclose
1 The usual sin and follies of thoaa
Who leave rural regions to see city sbowa—
You couldn't well make
I A greater misiuke;
! Per Brown was a man ol excellent aanse,
| Could sen very well through a hole in a fenoo,
| And was honest and plain, without shame or
pretence, [ed,
i Of sharp, city learning he couldn't have boast-
But ho wasn't the chap to be easily masted:
Though, like many a "Bill," he wasn't well
'•posted."
And here let me say,
In a very dogmatic, oracular way,
(And I'll prove it, before 1 have done with
tnv lay,)
j Not oily that honesty's likely to '"pay,"
1 But that one must be, as a general rule,
At least hall a knave to be wholly a lonl!
Ol pocket-book dropping Bill never had heard,
(Or at leart tl he had, he'd forotlen the word)
And now when, at length, the occasion oc
curred,
For that sort of chaff he wasn't the bird.
The gentleman signed with eloquent loroe,
And begged him to pocket the money, of
course,
But Brown, without thinking at all what he
said,
Popper! out the first thing that entered his
head,
(Which chanced to be wondrously fitting and
true,)
'No—no—my dear sir—l'll be burnt if I do!'
Two lively young lellowsof elegant mem,
Amused him awhile wiili a pretty machine—
An ivory ball, which he never had seen.
But though the unsuspecting stranger
In the ''patent safe'' saw no patent danger.
He easily dodged the nelanotis net,
Because "lie wasn't accustomed to bet."
Ah!—here, I wot,
1* exactly the spot
To make a small fortune as easy as not!
l'hat man with the watch— what lungs he has
got I
It's ' Going"—the best of (hat elegant lot—
To close a concern, at a desperate rate—
The jeweller ruined a* certain as fate !
A capital watcht-yon may see by the weight,
Worth 0110 hundred dollars as easy a* eight—
Or halt of that stun to melt down into ptalo—
(Htown doesn't know "Peter" tram l'oter the
Great.)
But then I can't dwell,
I m nub-red to sell,
And mnsii't stand weeping—just look at the
shell—
I warrant the ticker to operate well—
Nine dollars!—it's hard to be letting the thing
1-or only nine dollars!—it's cruel, by Jingo !
Ten dollars!—l'm offered—the man who se
cures
This splendid— ten dollars!—say twelve, and
it's yours!
'Don't want it'—quoth Brown—'l don't wish
to boy;
Fifty dollars, I'm sure,one couldn't call high—
But to see the man mined! — Dear Sir— 1 de
clare—
Between two or three bidder*, it doesn't seem
lair;
To knock it off" now were surely a sin;
Just wail my dear Sir, till the people come
in !
Allow me to say, jou disgrace your profes
e ion
A* Sheriff—consid'riug the debtor's condi
tion—
To sell such a watch without more competi
tion?''
And here Mr. Brown
Gave a very black Irown,
Stepped leisurely out, and walked further up
town.
To see hitn stray along Broadway
In the afternoon of a summer's day, *
And note what he chanced to see and say,
And what peop'o he meets
In the narrower streets,
Were a pregnant theme for a longer lay.
How he marveled at those geological chaps
Who go poking about in crannies and gap*,
Those curious people in tattered breeches,
The rag-wearing, rag-picking sons of—ditches
Who littd in the very nastiest niches
A 'decent living,' and sometimes riches;
How he thought city prices exceedingly queer,
The 'buses too cheap, and the hacks 100 dear;
How fie stuck in the mud, and got lost in the
question—
A problem too harJ for his mental digestion.
Why, in cleaning the city, the city employs
Sucti a very small corps of such very small
boys,
How he juJgee by dress, and, accordingly
makes,
By mixing up classes, the drollest mislakes.
As if simple vanity ever were vicious.
Or women of merit could be meretriciona,
He imagines the dashing Film Avenue dames
The same as the girls with unspeakable
names!—
An exceedingly natural blunder in sooth,
But, I'm happy to say, very far from the
truth;
For e'en at the worst, whaie'er you suppose,
The one sort ol ladies can choose their beaux,
While a* to the other—but every one knows
What—if -'twere a secret—l wouldn't dis
close.
And Mr. Brown
Returned from town,
With a bran new hat, and a tnnslin gown,
As he told Ihe tale, when the sun was down,
How ha spent his eagles, and saved his ctown;
How he showed his pluck in resisting the
claim
Of an impudent fellow who asked his name,
But paid, a a gentleman ever is willing,
At the old l'aik Gate the regular shilling !
13?" Pleasure uuattained, is the Hare whiclt
we hold in chase, cheered on by the order
of competition, the exhilarating cry of the
dogs, and Bhouts of the hunters, the echo ol
the ambition of being in at tfth death. Plea
sure attained, is the same hare hanging-up
in the sportsman's lardor, worthless, disre
garded, dispised, dead.
FRKD. DOUULAUB pnbliahea a card in TLM
YVaterlown [N. Y.] Journal, expreea ing greal
indignation, becauue the proprietor of a car -
tair. hotel in that town refuaed 10 entertain
tiim, on account of hia color.
I TWO WAYS liiMtt. MONKT-A MM
SKETCH.
| BY SYLVANUS COBB, JR.
I The following sketch of real lite so plainly
, extiibils a lesson which might be ptofitsbly
; followed by man) of our people, thai we
give it to the reader* simply is it occurred, |
only concealing the real names ol the parlies
1 concerned. Andes the story bears its own 1
, moral, ws will not lire you with any "refine-1
lions."
John Poland and Anson Lyman bought
farms adjoining catch other. The land had
formerly been owned by one man who bad
carried .on the whole, employing a heavy
force in the work. When tbo two friends
bought the land, it was a* equally divided
a* possible ; and after the line ol separation
had been run, those who had worked much
on the land declared that they would not give
the "toss of a copper" for a choice between
the two latins. Tho old buildings were al
most uielers, so new ones were erected, and
at the same tints both men commenced far
ming 111 earnest. 1 hey were poor, having
paid their last pennies for the farms, and be
ing obliged to run some in debt to get slock
and tool*.
In alt respects Ihe two men commenced
evenly. They were both married, and while
Poland had one sn and two daughters, I.y
rnan had one daughter aud two sous.
"Look ye," said Lyman as the two sat to
gether alter tho t farming operations were
commenced. ' I have sot my mark to aim
at. I'm determined, it 1 have my health, to
lay up a thou— nd dollars, cluar ol everything,
in five years."
"That is rather a short time for such a pur
pose,returned Poland.
"Not a bit," cried the other, enthusiasti
cally. "I'm not going to wear my back
bone away for nothing. I'm going to lay up
money/"
"So I hope to do," said Poland ; "but mo
ney isn't the first consideration."
"What's the reason it isn't ?" naked Ly
nmn. "If you havu money yoa can have
| everything. Money is the key that unlocks
; all doors—the card that admit* you to all pla
ces. "Olgive me a thousand dollars aud
l.'ll bo conten't I"
"So I must have a thousand dollars," re
marked Poland ; and then the conversation
look another turn.
One day a man cutne along who had some
splendid young cattle. They were of as
pure F.uglish Breeds us over imported and
cs mo very high. Poland nor him pas
sing and hailed hint. Our friend Was atixi- >
| ous to grow a fine stock, end ho knew that
he must commence in the right way.
'1 ho owner of the stock said ho was \v ill -
: ing to sell, bnt he must have his price —lie
j had a lino young pair, male and female, two
. years old, which he would sell for two hurt
j dred dollars. Poland oficred his note on six
months, together with a bill of sale of Ihe
I oattle as security. Tho owner was satisfied,
aud the bargain was made. The animals
was brought home, and Poland was not dis
appointed in his purchase.
'•Phew\" broke from Lyman's lips, as be
heard the price which his neighuor had paid
for ihe new stock. "Two hundred dollars 1
for a two year old bull and heifer! Why—
what on earth could you have been thinking
of Poland? Why—l wouldn't have given
eeventy-livo dollars for 'em 110 how. My 1
cows will give as much milk and make as
much butter and cheese. I tell you plainly
you'll never see that thousand dollars it you
launch out in that way."
t "But my dear sir, lam determined 10 have
I the best stock 1 can get," returned Poland, -
! earnestly • "for those farmers who have 1
: made die most monev have made it from
j stock. 1 assure you its one ol the greatest
tailings our farmers have thai they are con
tent with small, poor cattle, when, by * fit tie
trouble and expense, they could have better." 1
i "My slock answers my purpose, at any
rate," resumed Lyman. "I can't afford 10
pay two hundred dollars fnr a pair of iwoyear
olds, and one '0 litem heifer at that, when
I lor fifty dollat* 1 can buy one of the best cows
in the country."
"You have a right to your own opinions." j
"Aye—and I'll have my thousand dollars j
too," lauehed Lyman, as he turned away.
It was only a week after this that the can-1
vasser for an agricultural newspaper stopped
at Lyman's bouse; but the host couldn't af
ford to take it."
"Hadn't you batter?" ventured his wife.
"No. We take the Village Pickings, pub
lished right in our town, and that's enough.
You know what I told you, Dolly—l must
1 have that thousand dollars!"
"Then you won't take it?" said the agent.
"No, sir. Can't afford it. But there's my j
neighbor Poland—he'll lake anything that
anybody offers bim."
"I've called on him, sir, and lie told me
I'd belter stop bare. He said you were ta
king no agricultural paper."
"And did be subscribe ?"
<Ys—and paid me the money."
"I tell ye, Dolly, Poland's thousand dol
lars'U come out miuus, —now you murk
my words."
Dolly Lyman said nothing, for she was
troubled at that moment by the thought thnt
her htuband was exercising a spirit of penu
riousness whioh looked mean ; but she did
not say so.
"Hallo I what ye doing 1" cried Lyman as
he saw Poland commencing to run a tence
across his field.
"I'm going to throw out just half of this
field into pasturing," returned Poland.
"What?" exclaimed Lyman hardly able to
believe what ha had heard. "Throw off half
your field? Why—that won't leave you
with more than twenty acres lo till"
Trith aid R Iff lit God and or Country.
"1 know it,—and that's all 1 want. lam
delermand not lo waste my time sttd ener
gies 111 swinging a scythe over forty acre* of
land alter five and twenty tons of when lean
get lorty tons Irom twenty acres."
"Crazy as a March hate!" muttered Ly
man, a* he turned away.
Kie long Lyman was met with another sur
prise. He was at the hotel in the village one
day, and there learned that his neighbor Ro
land bad engaged all llteir manure (or four
years; and that he waa to pay for it with
wood, butter, cheese and such other articles
ot produce as might be waniad.
"Dolly, what do you suppose i'otaiul has
been and dona now ?"
"1 dor.'i know, I'm sure," returned the
wife, looking up.
"Wall, I'll tell you .—He's been and en
gaged al! the manure tnadd at the tavern sta
bles for the next lour years ! And he's got
to haul wood, and let his bulter and cheese
go 10 pay for il!"
On ihe same day he saw I'oland, and aiked
him what be meant.
"I mean to bting my farm up," said the
latter.
"But I get manure enough for two acres
of corn every year, and that's enough," said
Lyman.
"For yon it may be, but I wish 10 manure
more, Our laud was well run out when wo
look it, and in order to get it up to its fullest
capacity, wo must be prodtcal of rich dress-
IHg."
"Well,"' said Lyman, with a sort of pity
ing expression,—"go uhead; but if you ever
see your money, let me know."
"I'll give you a good account, never foar,"
replied Poland, laughing. "I must leed my
laud il 1 would have it feed me. We have
got land here like those rich alluvial bottom*
in tho west My lands need nursing now."
But Anson Lyman couldn't see the use of
watting money in that way. He thoaght
the man who would first cut down his tillage
laud one halt, and then go olfand buy such
a quantity must bo little better that; foolish.
He wasn't such a loot at all event.
During the following winter, while Lyman
was cutting and huuliug wood to the village
lor two dollars and a halt por cord, "poor"
Poland was hauling his to the lavorn to pay
for manure which lie hadn't got yet!
It was on the first day of April thai Poland
came to see his neighbor. He wanted to
borrow u hundred dollars for six months, or
lor n year if he could.
"What ye going to Jo with it J asked Ly
man.
"1 want to innke some improvements in
my barn cellar, and alio enlarge the building
by putting 011 a tie up, thus throwing the
cattle out of my main barn."
"I declare Poland, it's 100 bad!" said Ly- j
man, pityingly. "Here, I've laid up over 1
two hundred dollars clear cash, end you are
worse oil ihatt nothing—in debt. By the jin
go, John, 1 don't want to see you tooling
away money so. Your bam is large enough ,
—as large as mine is wilh double your laud
lo emly into it. If 1 lend you a hundred dol- !
lars what assurance have 1 that I shall ever ,
see it again ? I'd rather lei il go where I
know it is safe. 1 shouldn't want lo sue you,
and 1 might not gel it without. Your farm i
is us good as mine, and you have no more
need 10 be borrowing (ban I have,—or, you
shouldn't have."
John Poland didn't aay anything about ihe
Iwo animals he had bought a year und a hall
before, and the calf they had yielded him,
for which he had been offered, within lite !
week, four hundred dollars. He owned that
amount of stock over and above the stock
owned by Lyman. He turned the subject of:
conversation as quickly as possible, for he
wanted to hear no reason from his friend for
not lending him the money.
That afternoon he went over to see the!
man of whom he had bought this new stock,
who readily lent hint the money lie needed. I
"What a fool!" said Lyman, as he saw the
carpenters at work tearing away one whole ,
side of his neighbors barn, preparatory lo ad
ding an apartment capable of accomodating '
forty-five "head of cattle." However, Po. 1
land worked on, and tried in vain to get his 1
neighbor to listen to some of his advise.
"Don't talk to me," cried Lyman, at the
ei or' the second year. I've got four bun
do- ollars at interest. How much hare
foil got V'
" V thousand orso," returned the other.
h,n! What do yon mean?"
.v'hy, all the money I have laid out on
this place is on interest."
"Oho—aha, ha, ha,—and how much inter- 1
e6l have you realized?"
"So far I've let it all run at compound in 1
leresi—pul the interact right in with the prin- :
cipal, and there it lies.'"
"Yea, and there it will lie. I don't believe
you can raise filty dollars now in cash."
"You are right, Lyman—l could not raise
it withoot Belling something which 1 do not
wish to present to part with."
"I thought 80. But, lake your own way."
Ere long Anson Lyman was astonished
to find that his neighbor had subscribed (cr a
third newspaper, besides buying a lot of
books for his children.
"What's the use 1" he said, as he sat in
his neighbor's (root room, and saw a large
pile of books on the shelf. "I want my chil
dren to learn to work—not to be spending
their lime over books. They get schooling
enough when our school is open."
"So 1 mean that my children shall learn to
wink," relumed Poland, "but that shall not
prevent them from becoming well educated
I would rather leave thetn with good health,
good characters aud weell educated, than
with thousands of dollar* each, minus Ihe
education"
| "Oho 1 That's the way you meant lo lay
np a thousand of dollars; 10 have it in books,
& papers, and new tie tips and sueh like."
"You shall see when the lime is up."
"We shall," relurued Lyman, as he turned
toward* home.
Mr. Lyman had not realized how much
corn Poland had received from the land he
had manured so heavily and so carefully ;
and on the second year he only noticed thai
his neighbor bad extraordinary good hick I
with his wheat, getting about iiinei) bushels
from three acres. But he had occasion to
open his eyes on the third year.
One evening just at sundown, ha went over
into Poland's field, where the men where
just finishing making up • three acre piece
where tfie grain had been the year before—
the first piece the present owner haJ plowad
up and dressed.
"Been poling some hay on hare." said Ly
man, as Ira saw the huge bunches of hay
nearly as thick as they could stand.
"No—this was nil out from these three
acres," returned Poland.
Lyman counted the bundlea, and then es
timated their average weight, and upon reck
oning up he found the laud had yielded not
lar from Jour lons to the [acre I Ho had ju*l
got in lira twoocrts which he had llrstdressed
upon the now farm, and he hud obtained
short of iwo tons per acre! Ho knew that
Poland bad gotten bush<la more ol wheat
per acre than he had done, and also more
corn. Ho began to think, but yet ha would
not lot lata money go any suoh "experiments"
upon his place.
The five years came around and Anson
Lyman went on that day and sold fourteen
bushels ol corn in order to get fourteen dol
lars to put with nino hundred and eighty six
dollars which he had ai home.
"Well, Poland, I've got the prize!, said
Lyman, entering Ihe larmera's barn in Ilia
alternuou. Il was curly spring, just fivo
years from the day on which lliry bought,
I've got the thousand dollsts ; now what havu
you got ?
"Well—l have not far from four hundred
dollars in money."
"Aim—f thought so."
"But, Anson Lyman," said Poland, al
most sternly, are your eyes not opened yot?"
"Opened ! what d'ye mean ?
"Well, 1 mean that my farm to-day will
sell for one thousand dollar* more than yours.
Look at my lisy-mow. There are neatly
twonty tons of good hay ; you have not ten.
And, mind you, T have five head of cattle
more than you have. Next season I shall
cut more hay from twelve ecres, which I '
havo now regenerated, than you will cut up- I
| on your whole forty acres ; and you know!
| my hay is worth far more s pound than your I
■ hay is. I told you I had five more head of |
cattle than you had. For these five creatures
1 CUII within six hours, take seven hundred
dollar* cash; but no such money can pur-!
Chace them ol me."
"Ah, Lyman, you have been saving mo
ney, but you have taken it from your farm
without returning anything lor il."
I "Never mind—l've got my thousand dol
lars, and I've got tny farm, as good as it was
the day I bought il.
"Not quite Lyman."
"How so?"
"You've taken off two hundred cords of
good wood."
"Well—so you look off some."
"Aye—but what I took from my wood lot
I put back upon my field. I did not take it
| from the farm."
Mr. Lyman went awev with new thoughts.
Time passed on, and at the end of another
j five years the eye* of Arison Lyman were
1 wholly opened, Poland had raised quite a
| slock of noble cattle Irom his first purchase,
j and commenced to sell 10 the beef market-
I Two hundred dollar.* tvas the least any one of
j them brought when fatted ; and one bullock,
' four years old, brought him three hundred
; and ten dollars. His twenty acre field was
like a garden, yielding, such as was mowed,
an average of three tons 10 the acre. In short
1 his whole farm was nnder the best of training
aud. improvement, and now yielding him
back a heavy interest upon all that he had
expended. Du'ing one tall he took over a
thousand dollars for stock and produce : and
he was offered five thousand for his place,
while Lyman could not have found a pur
chaser ai fifteen hundred!
'•Dolly,' stid Anson Lyman, sinking into a
chair. "I've been a fool ! —a fool! I say."
I "Why—Anson—what do you mean?
| "Mean? Look at Poland's farm."
"I have looked at it from the first, Anson."
"You have ? And what have you seen ?
| "Why—l saw that John Poland was ma
king a comfortable home tor himself and
! lamilv, aud increasing ihe value ofbis farm
; lenlold "
I And why didn't you lell me so ?
j "I did tell you so, husband, a^ 4 y ou
j I was a fool."
! "1 remember. Well.—Mver mind—llisn't;
| 100 late now."
On the next rooming Mr. Lyman went
over to hi* neighbor's a"d Irankly said,—
"Poland you must be'p me. I want to
leant to be a farmer.
"1 will help you with pleasure. Anson.and
1 you can begm 'at "tore easily than 1 did, tor
J you haw money."
! And Lymou commenced. Ttra thousand
1 dollars was nearly expended in the wo k. but
in the end he found hnnrel the gaiuer, end
his dollars came back to bun wh interest
! twtce-Uld. He had learned a It-woo wbicb
many wight follow with profit.
I |jrTo produce ihe "lock jaw" tri a lady
I ask her age.
•tiff MIC Ills Head-'
A breathlessly excited individual, says a
late number ol the San Francisco Morning
Call, rushed into Ihe police office yeslorday,
and enquired for the chief.
'Whst do you want with him?' inquired an
impassive officer.
• '1 vanti,' said he with 1 Teutonic arcent,
'I vant* ein paper to kill a tain log vol bites 1
mo in te leg.'
'Alt, you wish an order of execution issu- 1
ed against a vicious canine,' said the officer. •
'No, I tuaaant vaul 00 such ting. I vants ,
a paper to tell me to kill le lam pit p. He j
pile* my leg ao pad, I have got te hydropho- j
pe, und will kill him, or goes mat, too?' j
'Ah, now I en,' said the impaaaive tern
petamenl; 'you require authority lo proceed '
with lorce ol arm* oguinai (he dangerous an
imal.'
'Mein Got, 110—dal i*h not vat I vanls. I
vanla le jeaf to give ine lirenan to kill le log
! vants him to make me babrr *0 ven I kills
le tog ho can nicht go inter to bolice courl ,
and swear against me.'
'The dog.'
'Nein—not le log—ihe man vat owns le
log. You see if I kills him—"
'What, the man?'
'Nein—te log. Tnd le man snes me for le
brine of te log, den I vants ler law on meir.
aide, H'yer see?'
'Oh, yes!' said Ihe officer, who was quiet- I
ly chuckling at the raitlion evinced by ihe
German, and intent on exhausting his pa
tience, 'then you want lo got a warrant lo ar
rest Ihe man who owns the dog, so the ani
ml may not ottark you.'
'No, 110! Got for lam, you gets every ling
by te tail!' cried lager beer, who began lo :
think ihe officer was quizzing him. 'I link
you vants to make chokes of me. Tender |
und bliizen! I vants lo out le tam tog's head |
off, ami if shnstice will not give me a taper, 1
I culs his head off anyhow.'
And the lover of*ourkroul started to leave .
Ilia hall; but meeting the "jnaf ol bolice" at
tho door, he cnnvetteil with him in German,
dialect, made known hi* wants and received
un order lo execute Ihe vicious animal.
As he was going out he met tho impassive
officer.
'All right?' ha inquired.
'Yah, all right. I goes straight off 10 tc !
owner of le log und kills him.'
'What, the owner.
'No, te log. You make lam fool of your
self by saying log ven 1 means man, und
von I means rnsn yon sa) log. Now you go \
to tor dtiyvel!' and tho German incontinently
hurried away lo meet 0111 vengeance lo the 1
animal who had crossed hirn in hi* ''glorious
path."
How THE LADIES DNESS IN KANSAH — A
Kansas le'ter-writer, who recently came
down the Missouri 00 the steamer Omatiia, :
says:
"At Atehison, wo took on a young belle,
whose only attendant was a young Missouri
blood. The young lidy was apparently
dressed in the latest agony and style of fash
ion; the ch-te straw hat, the innumerable
flounces and wide-spreading hoops of her
gay striped silk dress, set oft her command
ing figure very gracefully. Her stature tall
—as Byron says, I hate a dumpy woman.
But the richest scene in relation to this
young belle was behind the curtain, and is
j to come yet. At Leavenworth our tai: one
left us, and as she was standing on the bank,
j casting a last, 'long., lingering look' back, we
i were tempted to admire her uelieately turned
ankles—who can resist a nicely laced gaiter
or a peeping ankle?—when, behold! she
: hadn't any stcoking* on! I am unable to say
; wh*t the fashion is in Kana-—whether it is
fashionable for ladies to go w.thorn hose or
not, but certain I am that the finest dressed
one whom I saw ic the Territory didn't use
, the article.
THE FALL.
i "The melancholy days are come, the sad
dest of the year." A truth in, more sense
than one. As Tom Hood s:n;j:
j "Summer's gone and over,
Fogs are tailing down,
And with russet tinges
Autumn's doing brmvn.
i Boughs are daily ritied
| By the gusty thieves,
| And ihe book ot nature
| Getteih short ol leaves
Round the tops ot houses
Swallows as they rtit.
Give, like yearly lec-hts.
Notices to quit.
1 Shies of tickre-cmper
Weep bv - rn laugh—
N:'HT TOGETHER
I TaS-S half-aiid-haiC
tV Beauty and w.t will die—teaming and
I wealth wiil vanish away—a. arts o! fife
1 will be forgotten—but virtue wt . remain tor
ever. I'. anted ou earth maoo .• unco ige
uii. chine, it will bloom and b.ossoui -u
heaven.
rr Mafias was so great a man that eve
rything be touched turned to gold The
ease ts altered now—touch a man w-.th gold
and he will change into anything
CV Ke>i is a very due medicine —le:
vour stomachs arc dyscegncs—Let you:
brain, rest, ye vvear.ed. a ol worried u< o.
| business Res; vour tub*, ye children
toil You c*" V Cast off all seperdust-es
ot appetite aid wshto and. see 1. you can t
IT" A gentleman who had a very s reng
1 desire to be a tunnv noon. n* dowa upoa a
hooped skirt the otoer .hay . and -.til ao.ewpe
; rat KM equal W ANY eieqgeacy . he wxwee,
' -I'ttt sitting 00 ike style Mary
[Two Dollars per ADBM,
NUMBER 46.
| COtJIU ING-SAIJ PREDICAMENT.
An lowa piper lelli the following good joke
which happened some limn ego, Dill will
lose nothing by it* age:
A certain man in search ol a wife, beirg
out on a courting exped.tion, a* i* ruiiomiry
| wiih young men, came late on Sunday eve
i ning, and, in order to keep tiis recret from
t hi* young acquaintances, determined to be
I at home on Motiduv morning, bright and
{ early, *o that hie abience would no! be no
-1 (iced. Hut hi* affianced resided leveral
' mile* from the town in which he sojourned;
| and *o, to oveicome the distance, he required
I the u*e ot a hnrse. Mounted on bit horse,
i droseed in hi* fine while summer pants, and
| other ruin* in proportion, he arrives at the
residenco of his inrrnorsta, where he is
, kindly received snd his horse properly taken
' care of be being turned into the paature for
the night. The evening, yea, the night,
l passed away, but how to the young man ia
I nobody's business. Three o'clock in tho
I morning ntrivod Our hero was awake—
I nay, lie had been so all night—but ii mailer*
J not—three o'clock was the lime rn depart, eo
that he might arrive at home before Ins com
j radea were stirring Not wishing to disturb
i the family or hia lady love, who were then
wrapped in Ilia arins of Morpheus, lie aallied
I furth to catch his horse. But here was a
| d fflcully—the grass was high and covered
I with dew. To venture in wiih hia while
panlilnnna, would rather lake lite slsrch out
lof Ihom, ami load to his detection. It would
l not do to go in with his white unraentiona
hies, so he quickly made hi* resolution. It
I was three o'clock in Ihe morning arid no-
I body stirring, o ho carefully disrobed him
self of bis whites and placed iliem in safety
upon the fence, while he gave chase, with
uriecreened pedala, through wet grass after
i tho horse. Hut tho steed was lond of clovet,
and had no notion of leaving it. But our
| hero wu* not to be thwarted, although he
| began to realize the truth of the old adage
about Ibo course of true love, &0., aud final
f ly the horse was captured.
; Helurning to the fence where he had safe
| ly suspended his Idly white unmentionables
i —UI fllirahile Dulu, what a horrible sight
j met his eyes! The field into which bis
I horsn had been turned was not only a horse
pasture, but a calf pa*'ure 'oo, and the
I naughty calves attracted by the white flag
| on the fence, bad betaken themselves to it,
and, calf-like, had almost eaten them op;
only a few well chewed fragments of this
I once valuable article of hi* wardrobe now
remained—only a lew shred*—just sufficient
I to indicate what they hail been. What a
] pickle this was for a nice young man to be
j in.
It was now daylight, and the indsitrious
! farmers were op and about, and our hero,
j far from home, wiih no covering for bia
i traveling ap;aratus. It would not do to go
j back to the louse of his lady fove, a* they
were now all up, and how could he get in
wuhout exhibiting himself to hn fair one
which might ruin the match. No; no that
wouldn't do. Neither could he go to the
I town in that phght. There was only one re
source left him, and that was to secrete him
self in the bushes until the next night, and
then get home o.oder cover of the darkness
This he resolved to do, and accordingly hud
himself in a thick groupe of boshes.
Safely hid, he remained under the cover
, of the bushes for seme lime, and ii may he
imagined that hs feelings toward the calf
kind were r.ot of the most friendly eharae*
ter: but ere long his seclusion was Jes'iced
to be intruded upon. Toe'amity of the fair
one seeing his horse sin I remaining ia :he
pasture, enquired of the lady whst she had
done wuh her lover: she was nonplussed
bne only knew he nai left aioot 3 o'e.ock :a
the mornms: ttir.gs didn't look rgh't if he
had gone, wnydtd he leave hie Sus
p cion was awatened Bye ar.d bye tie
boys, who had teen out to feed tae ea.vee,
re nrned w.io the remnant# of tae idee'teai
vh t- earmen's wh.eh adorned the lower
limbs of their fate visitor. The* were maa
gled and tors to shreds. As .ecuest was
immed'4 eiy teid ever tiem Some awt'ul
late Sad N"a en ±e anfc-uca e vcuag mn.
The neighbors were soca euaitsooed to
seirch fir : r mangled corpse, arid tae ooa
w th a . speed set cJ w,.a degs and arms a
the sesreh. The pasture was thoroughly
scoured. cd the sd-aceut 2.casus, whec lo !
our hero i< driven from bse lair by ;ae
teen see - of ike Jogs, ai! safe, all ve aad
we.i but ecu ue Uteu An espiaaa- oa
nee eosued at the expesse of our aero, bur
ae was success.u. ia use ead. He married
,ae gir. aid . now living com oetabiy .u Jue
o; :ae dourteo.jg iowos a I:wa.
>f<tr*ts CVi* tr Fouuv —Old Or Kreft
ot V" ! id- pn . u*ed o -ess a . nuu.ar
c o m -com a ia a ;-eieo. n Use Kbsia-
Jt -a H Sp-.'s. He took I l s**d jas
-■> 4< a pa asr . d ■weoiuUf.y nr.used toe
a' g t toe. .-osse-.* ig Sue orga.:* of soeecl.
to j er a word The iucor rue ia* sunned
< a,M- nsea. aud .oucd i<> aaenra.ug ia a
s • of -ape- a ■*•!* Sreuufui -owe: "or 2<v
rad by oog react ce acquired tntnHl skill ia
;->e art e c>* a . and wae very Sjod of tbe ae
oompsisaeaec. Oue day a nougat
Pt Seen O t ">e wou.ii wnr>eu J.iw JXQ
ww J* .•. - 4 j Oour*. ,w tweofveu
o.v "k mini* 'g et* tkaadasMM
-•xiooag* ■'!**. *1 :-*io, M ebwn*d u
:>e ret au ao. "daOOWtfe —good grwoiowSy
, -wa I. aoe* fta. Ov>4 .taw aoa hdegw.
, Wi.. • *m e.ii oof nai'a a *oee. asad *a
. 4 40V.V one, OO."* I WW* ot dug >*<vw a*
, /aowitv wee ww. i. Hi* nun ot aatew f eagkl
wee hv-ufceu. aud H wtaroed boat*.