V r 3 m r TF. II. JACOBY, Proprietor. Truth and Right God and our Country. Two Dollars per Annnia. 0 E NORTH. 5 ) .VOLUME 12. BTAlt OF THE NORTH ruBLtsaso utKsr xtedxespat bt YM. II. JiCOBT, trficc on Mala St., 3rd Sqnare below Market, TERMS : Two Dollars per annum if paid Vrhbia six months from the time of subscri bing : two dollars and fifty cents ii not paid ' within the year. No subscription taken for 'a less period than six months; no discon tinuances permitted until alt arrearages are : aid, unless at the option oT the editor. Tke terms of advertising will bl as follows : One square, twelve lines, three times, $1 00 Every subsequent insertion, ...... 25 One square, three months, ....... 3 00 One year, .....8 00 . . (i)oue floe trn. puiLosopnr of life. - lie who seeks on earth repose, Is bereft of common sense; Soon the day ol truth would close In the tiight of indolence. . -Mind hath much to leant below ; Knowledge hourly must be sought, Ever seeking truth to know, .Wisdom comes with work and thought. le is not the friend of man Not his own. it cannot be Who pursues a selfish plan, Bat-king neath his own tig tree. Tie's a noble man who feeks, 'Mid the world's love, toil, and strife, Right ; and givelh, as he speaks, Thought to thought, and life to life. Ever to hia onward way, Beauty, grandeur, he describes ; Or in summer's azure day. Or in winter's stormy skies. Bless'd the mind to which is shown, That there is on earth, in heaven Ever something to be known ; Tis the greatest blessing given. . Ever mind most mind employ ; Ever must receive and give ; Etill lo learn, is to enjoy, And enjuyiug is to live A STAB IN THE DARK. "Some years ago, in the city of New Or leans, Gaston Kolt, a money broker, of re- . puted wealth, sat in his private office, awaiting the presence of the young cashier, Charle? Lewis. Mr. Holt had told Charles that he wished to see him at 8 o'clock in the evening; and ; the clock was striking that hour when Charles entered the office. "You wished to see me, Mr. Holt?" re marked Charles a manly and handsome j oulh of twenty three and speaking with coldness that would have startled the proud broker at any other time. ' "Take a seat sir," said Gaston Holt ; 'l have something of great importance to say . to you.rf 'It cannot be of more importance that what I have to say to him," thought Charles, as he eat down facing his employer, who was evidently puzzled how to begin his conversation. At lengih he said : . "Mr. Lewis, yon have been in my em ploy nearly three months, I think V "Yoa are right sir," replied Charles. 'lf yoa were discharged, Mr. Lewis, you ' ' would find it very difficult lo be engaged : lsewhere." "Yery tree, M'. Holt; New Orleans is i crowded with applicants for all kinds of .employment v -M Yon are also largely indebted to me,Mr. - Lewis, for money advanced." 'I am indebted to yoa Mr. Holt. I was cnuch indebted to other when I entered your office ; but at your earnest solicita lion I allowed you to assume those debts -debts I incurred by becoming security for . those whom I thought, not only honest, but personal friends. I am very grateful ?" aid Charles Lewis, quickly. ' "Certainly." 'Prove that gratitude, Mr. Lewis. To give yoa a chance lo prove it, I have de sired this interview," continued Holt. "I trast my industry anJ ability." began Charles, much astonished al the sudden paleness that swept over Mr. Holt's dark countenance. , " 'Iknow I kcew, of course," cried Mr. Holt springing op, and pacing the floor. lint I demand a stronger prool ; 1 demand a sacrifice. Yonng man, I am informed that ' -yoa are aboot lo marry." - m Charles flashed crimson, bet remained silent; while Mr. Holt having worked him. ell into a passion, resumed : 'At least I know that you and Olivia San cinithe Italian's daughter, have plighted jour vows!" ' 'That is true, Mr. Holt. The matter is , wholly ber's and mine," said Charles ris- - ng in his torn, and drawing himself very erect "I see no reason for its introduction here,' sir." . V 'I will give yoa a r8ason,Charles Lewis," : paid Mr. Holit in a slow, deep tone. I love Olivia Sancini.'.'.. v ' "Yoa! What!" cried Ciarles, starting tack. ! "I was not aware that yoa had ever ' ' ceen bsr." "You know it now, Charles Lewis ! And new I demand that yoa shall immediately relinquish and forever, all pursuit of her tar. J. Coree, she is only a fruitraan's daughter, and a joung saan of appearance nd fine prospects can surely make a high er rnatch than to Ked the daughter of Jer- ne Sancini." - '' '! rsight cake the same remark to Mr. Caston llch," retorted Charles, with sting ing control pi, end spsaking harshly; ''for Olivia Sancini S3 worthy of the "noblest. Yoa demsad tod msch, lit. Holt. I Yoa in BLOOM SB ORG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY JANUARY 2, 1861. upon making her my wife," exclaimed Mr. Holt. "Beware how you stand in my way! 1 am a bitter enemy, Mr. Lewis. 1 saved your reputation in assuming your debts ; remember that !" ' . "I have not forgotten, if f-'Mr. Holt my reputation as a business man, but not as an honest man. Were I to live a thousand years, I should never place my honesty in jeopardy." 'You refuse ! , Yoa assume a high crest to me, Mr. Lewis !" criey Gaston Holt, bit terly, and clenching his hand. '1 will dis cbarge yon ; I will strip you and your moth er of every dollar you have. I will crush you to thejlusspith a load of debt. Young man, the debtor is a slave a soul-slave to bis creditors." "I owe you, Mr. Holt this amount," said Charles, drawing forth a pocket book and coonling upon the table a roll of bank bills. "There is what I owe you ! Give rae a receipt in full and take it." "How came yoa with :his money?" ex claimed Mr. Holt, as he summed up the amount, and gave the desired receipt "A small legacy left to me by my moth er's brother," he remarked, as he secure-J the receipt. ."And now Mr. Holt, I am cut of your power, and voluntarily out of your service. Gratitude is not due to a man who pretends generosity to gain selfish ends." "I will blast your name, Charles Lewis!" cried Mr. Holt. 1 am a dangerous enemy ; and for my life, henceforth and forever I am yours i !4I am warned in time," replied Charles, buttoning his coat over his broad breast. 'Had you not desired an interview with me this evening, I would have demanded one of you, Gaston Holt. I meant to place certain papers, accidentally iu my posses sion, in your hands; but 6ince you are to be my enemy, I would bo a simpleton to throw away the weapons chance has given me. "Whal do yon mean, yonng man ?'' "I mean, Gaston Holt," replied Charles, "that I have discovered that I have been toiling for a forger. This day I discovered it. I intended to give you the proofs of your guilt, that you miht destroy them; and so have proved my gratitude for supposed kindness, would have ceased to bo your debtor and cashier al the same moment, I shall retain these proofs; I have them in my pocket now, I will not use them against you unless I shall have cause to suspect you are determined to continue the dishon orable practice, or unless " "Unless what?" said Mr. Holt, livid and fierce. "Unless yoa presume to think of Olivia Sancini," aid Charles as he turned to leave the office. "Take this with you !" cried Gaston Holt, springing at him, and striving to plunge a dirk into his bosom. But Charles was strong and vigilant. He caught the descending hand of the infuria ted man, and with a powerful wrench hurl ed him upon the floor. "Assassin and forger ; ' yon shall hear from me to-morrow," said Charles, as the disarmed villain glared at him from the floor. Then turning, he slowly departed. "If he lives till daylight, I shall be ruin ed !" exclaimed Gaston Holt, springing up in dismay and rapidly following Charles. He soon overtook him in the blreet, and facing him whispared : "Be merciful, young man ! Give me two days to close up my affairs, and then I will leave New Orleans forever." He begged so pitifully, and seemed so heart crushed, that Charles consented, only stipulating that ihe rascal should leave the country. "I will ! I swear I will !" said Holt. They parted Charles going toward his home in the upper part of the city, while Holt hurried elsewhere in search of Jerome Sancini, the father of Olivia. He found him in bis favorite drinking saloon, and taking him aside, said : 'Yoa have work lo do Jerome." "Yes ! what i it, senior ?" asked Jer ome, a swarty, evil browed fellow, whom no one would suspect to be the father of bo lovely and amiable a girl as the fair Olivia. Yoa are about to lose, a large sum of money, my friend Jerome. I promised you a certain amount in case I became the hus band of Olivia. Yoa know Olivia is not your child?" 'Yoa and 1 only know it, 6enior," re plied Jerome. "Not us alone." "Who else suspects ? She cannot. She was young; when I stole her from her pa rents in Italy, that she knows nothing of her origin." Her father is in New Orleans. ''Ah ! can he suspect V Not yet Jerome. But I wish her to be my wife before the rich Italian leaves for Cuba. Yoa sold me the secret of her birth for a good round sum, and yoa shall have thrice as much when I am her husband, Suppose you would go to her lather and tell him v . ' : "Tell him!" cried Jerome. 'The old man would dirk me on the spot. He is a magazine of gunpowder, that old man. He wronged rre yonder in Itlay, and I've had a good long revenge on hirn. Tell birn, ! my wife might, if she met him, for she has grown very pious of late." Well there is work to be dono in haste Unless you put him out of the way, 1 shall never have a chance to give you any more money, Jerome." 'So so ! I understand," said Jerome, set- . . . J 3 O w ting his teeth hard. "So you know, senior ern prison conducted on the solitary system. Holt. Last night I had occasion to stop j Slowly we passed down the long, melan Olivia ; she was very impertinent, you see choly corridors now and then entering and Charles Lewis saw it saw me slap her . one of the cells, to exchange a word of hu ears ; not hard, oh, oh ! and he threatened J man cheer with its louely inmate utterly to pound me if I ever dared to touch her Jonelv. but for the muta cnmnanmnhin of again. You see he suspects Olivia is not j my child. Mywife has a tongue entirely too long, and she esteems that young fel low." "I have said enough, Jerome" continued Holt, placing a roll of bills in the despera do's hand. "If he lives three days, I must leave America, and you." "You shall not leave, Senior. 1 will at tend to this little business." After much more villainous discourse, the pair separated, and Gaston Holt return ed to his office. It was after midnight when he stole forth into the street, muttering . "I must secure those papers; he said he had them with him. He never lies. I know the room in which he sleeps ; it is easy of access. He will keep those papers on his person, or conceal them in his room. In either case, if Jerome does for him, the papers may be found and so ruin me ; and I think I had better trust my own hand rather than Jerome's. At all events, I will try for those papers at least look about for I am in agonies of dread." He hurried on until he paused before the modest residence of Charles Lewis. The darkness and stillness of the hour, and the open window of tho yonng man's room, tempted him. He easily scaled the little fence before the fcoue, and gained a noiseless entrance into the room. It was by no means the first time Gaston Holt had found himself in so dangerous a situation ; and having taken off his shoes before he scaled the fence, he began to advance step by st.ep into the apartment, with which he was quite familiar from former visits of feigned friendship. He paused and listen ed intently, but heard no breathing and knowing the position of the desk in which Charles kept his private papers, slowly groped his way thither. He reached it, wher. a slight noise attracted his attention toward the window and as he glanced thai way he saw that some dark body had drop ped into the room as noiselessly as a cat. Filled with terror, he sank behind the bed so that he stood between it and the wall. The next five minutes was of horror to him, for he could neither see nor hear any thing. He wondered that he could not hear the breating of thj sleeping Charles; and sud - denly conceiving that the bed was vacant, he swept his hand sohfv over it. The bed was vacant. J'No doubt he or some one saw rae enter '. Ban ine imenlon9 01 1,3 mower ceil . and is after mo," thought he, as au icy IIow BlranS anJ eaJ 11 oeemed ? The sweat began to pour from his lace and i earlh haJ ahnost made lta .miSay revc,u bosom. l'ons around the sun passing through all He waited and listened. The suspense lhe wonderful changes of the season, was a horror. Again he heard a slight , through the countless phenomena of nature noise ; and by its nearness, he kuew the in- j since this bady was born in prison, and 6he truder was not far from him. ; knew nothing yet of Spring's fair bloom, of Gaston Holt unsheathed a heavy knife, j Summer's glory, of Autumn's ripeness, of and cautiously retreated, hoping to pass . Winter's splendor nothing of winds, or around the head of the bed, and thence to ! waves, cr woods, or birds skies, or rain or tne window, whence te escape. j When he reached the head of the bed, he'1 found it close to the wall, he could retreat ' no further ! Listening intently, he detected a soft, gliding noise, as if a mass of cloth ing was being pushed toward him by hair breadths. Pausing no longer,he sprang for the window. His hand and foot were upon the still when the intruder sprang upon him, and plunged a k a L .. w i i him in the shoulder. Gaston Holl turned upon his unknown enemy with a savage curse, and struck back swift and fierce. There was a deep groan; and Gaston Holt bounded into the yard, leaped over the fence not forgetting to secure his shoes ere he fled like the wind. At the next cor ner be paused and listened. He heard no disturbance. "He is finished !" he muttered, after a few minute! of conversation ; and then, congratulating himself that he na d escaped so well, hurried to his home an. I entered unperceived by bis servants, and went to sleep, muttering: ''If I had the papers now, I should be perfectly happy. But I shall be summoned there early in the morn ing, and will have excellent opportunities for search. On the whole, I thick I will go there early ansummoned, and be the first to see it He had been asleep less than an hour when his room was broken into by a squad of police, and au officer slapped him on the shoulder, saying : "I arrest yoa for the mur der of Jerome Sancini, in the house of Cbas. Lewis !" "Ah ! then it was Jerome !" cried Holt in dismay, and swooned with terror. It appeared that Charles had been de tained down town until almost morning ; and when be entered the room, he fonnd Jerome lying on the floor, nearly dead horn a terrible gash on his breast. Knowing he was dying, Jerome confess ed all that he had stolen lha re to assassin ate Charles, although he had agreed with Holt to defer the deed till next night. His confession restored Olivia to the bo som of ber happy father,whence she was afa terwarda taken for life by Charles Lewis. Jerome Sancini died where Le felt and Gastcn Holt is still serving under an inex,- THE B1BE IN THE PRISON. BT GRACE GHEEN WOOD. A few years ago, I visited the grand mod- t - - x"- r his labor that primal penalty of sin, trans formed into a consolation and a. blessins. Occasionally we passed at a ceil, but did not enter, being invited by the warden to look in upon the prisoner through a minute loop-hole in the heavy iron door. Thus I gazed upon some of the most hardened and hopeless criminals in the Penitentiary as they bent over lapstone or loom, or stood, at the carpenter's bench, all unconscious that a human eye was dwelling- on them . watching the dull gloomy face, the melan choly movements, with the sorrowful awe, a sombre curiosity, a shuddering but yearning pitty. The women looked thin ner, paler, more haggard and desponding than the men though, some seemed to make a desperate effort at defiance. It is hard to defy solitude, silence and that dis mal annihilation of identity, where one's very name U merged in the number of prison cell. Evidently these things told more upon their spirits than on those of male prisoners, and the more quiet and monotonous nature of their occupations seemed to weary and wear upon them. Their eyes met ours with a dull and stony expression, or retreat ing with shy, evasive glances. Yet the most sad and sullen among them followed us to the cell door with a look of longing and mournful envy, more touching than the wildest appeal for freedom and human companionship. On the floor of one of these cells, we found a little child a baby girl, somewhat less than a year old. The sight surprised me, as the appearance of La povera picciolut the poor little flower, springing up from be tween the flag stones of his prison yard, surprised the sad captive of Finestrelia. A pale and sickly blossom this seemed, though not without a certain plaintive beau ty in ber wan aud wistful little face. She was very fair too fair there seemed no sunshine in her veins, no stir of life in the pale golden hair which hung dejectedly about her waxen forehead. The eyes were blue but of the dull, uncertain hue of vio lets that have grown in deep shade. I fan cied they might have caught all they lacked of light and color from the run of the gleam i of running waters, or the rich depths of summer skies. The7 had, loo, a 6trange blank look from striking eter against pris- 1 on wa"3 1 thouSht- They certainly had not eaScr dislinct reachea of expression, oat from the eyes of happier chil- ! dren. Was the infant's sight dwarfed to snow. I fear her little feet had never been set in the grass, her little arms never been thrown round a pet or play fellow. I fear she has never looked into the heart of a rose, or the face of a little child. Surely the sight of either would have kindled a faint momentary flush in her pallid cheeks. It was a cloudy, showery day, and double i rcl Tauc" . duu ruuuo uui, aiiu ecui a Liau ucaiu through the high, narrow, grated window, J to fall on the prison floor beside the child. For the first time, I saw the little creature smile, as she bent forward and clutched eagerly at the dancing ray. It was a pretty yet piteous sight that instinctive, hungry grasp at ber small ration of God's free sun shine her crumb fallen from the Master's table while the whole outside world were feasting half unconscious, and all too un thankful, on the rich, life giving bounty. In another instant, a pittiless cloud swept over the sun, and the radient stranger was gone. Then the bereaved baby cried, in a 6ilent old way, which showed one that tears were more native to her than smiles. The mother took her up, and strove lo comfort her with a few feeble love words and lan guid caresses. Then t regarded the moth er. She was little more than a child her self, "going on eighteen," she said and looked a weak, inoffensive creature, with no muscle or fibre desponding, listless, a frail and sorry thing for the law to wreak itself against. The babe ceased weeping presently, but began again, as we drew near, biding her face against her child -mother's breast. "Don't mind her ladies," said the mother, "she's a puny, 6cary thing. She ain't used io strangers, and don't seem to take kindly to prison-life, for all she was born to it. I hope she will be better when we go out, but I donl' know. Yoa see she didn't have a fair chance at the start; I fretted so much fore she waa born, and a good bit after -She don'l know what it is to be lively and cheery like other children. I think a little fresh, open air would do her good, and she ought to 6ce more folks, especially young folks. I know am a poor hand to bring her up, I feef so old, and its go dismal away and care for it till your term is out?" I asked. i naven i goi any inenas teat Know i am here but one, and he's in too," she re- j plied with a faint flush. "Some of the ! prison visitors have offered to 'take care of her, but 1 can't live without her. I should i swim over to the other side, notwithsland fret myself to death in a little time, and I i ing all theclamor and opposition that could am uui hi iu uio. i expeci io nave a naru lime to live when I get out, but if I don't do wrong again it will be because of my baby ; 'pears to me God has got hold ol me there." Let Ub trust that he has a sure, eternal . . -J ff . . I I ' hold! Let us hope that tV.s sorrowful pic- j wilh Prometheus ? or tremble below the aola this little drooping flower, springing precipice in company with the Danaides." from a sinful love, bedewed with tears of or a5sifit Sif:yphc8 13 rolling h;3 8tonei shame, nurtured in prison gioorn, may yet I NO) eaid Mnos non0 0 these ; we instruct the mother's simple heart in the ( mnst invent BOWQ 8Cverer punishment divine lesson of virtue, and breathe into it j Let him be sent back to the earth, to see the balm of God's peace. the U6Q his beir8 are makin2 of his riches." This young mother, I was afterwards told was sent here for larceny, for a term of two years She had been a servant girl, and had stolen from her mistress a diamond brooch. Wbother Irom the promptings of evil counsel, or the sudden, wild temptation of girlish vanity, or from an insane, inborn propensity for thieving, Bhe committed the crime, I know not. At all events the pen alty was a hard one. Sure the poor girl was loo young to be beyond the hope of reformation through milder means. For all the diamonds in Victoria's crown, I would not deprive an unfortunate sister, so young, and but lately so innocent, ol uou's tree t.r ana sunstune lor two long years condemn her to meet her time of peril and pain to bring lorlh her first baby, in a prison cell. But a little while ago, a noble lady of ; France, robbed a jeweler of a set of costly diamonds, that she might shine peerless at an imperial lete, and the penalty which she had suffered (from society, not the law) is banishment to her chateau in the coun try. There, though rage and mortification may gnaw r.t her proud heart, her children will probably forget her shame in their own freedom, and bless the exchange from the tiresome splendor of Parisian high life. Since the day of my visit, that great mod el prison, that imposing caravansary of crime, with its hundreds of unhappy in mates, representatives of almost every of fence towards God and man, has for me no memory so pathetic as that of the baby born under its vast roof. I often think of her, and wonder, and conjecture many thing. Did 6he continue to droop and pine, with a strange importu nate instinct for light and freedom, till one day sudden darkness 6wept across the nar row grated window, and the little faint sunbeam of joy that lit the ceil was with drawn for ever ? Had tho poor picciola withered among the prison-stones? Had ever a little coiin been carried through that low, dark doorway, and down the long si lent corridor, with no moorner following ? Had God 60 loosened his hold on ihe moth er's heart, or lightened it? Or had deliverance come otherwise? Had she gone forth, led by a mother's hand clinging to her mother's side, a white, shy, E'.artled little creature, out into the great, wide, bewildering world? Had nature min istered kindly to her now-found child, light ed her dull eyes with gleam of thought and joy, kindled something like bloom in her wan cheeks, burnished her hair with gold, and quickened her languid pulses with pure air? Had she gro'vn familiar with the starry sky aud the grassy earth ? Had she learned to play, and to laugh aloud unfearlul of prison echoes? Must the shadow of that prison follow mother and child through life, a cloud of shame and suspicion ? Or will the world prove merciful and forgetful ? Will virtu ous, Christian people give them a chance to live honestly and happily, and so redeem the past error ? Who can tell? But in the memory of the poor baby in the prison, let us pray thai ihe unfortunate, the happy, the inno cent, may learn to be wisely charitable toward the errors of youth, lenderly helpful toward the friendless and unfortunate, hope fully toiling lor the bringing of the time for which the great burdened heart ol the world yearn3 unceasingly. Then nature will fill the unroofed prison cell with bright sun shine, nd vail the crumbling prisou turret in a green oblivion of ivy. Then every babe 6hall be born heir lo the full wealth of human love and care to the full joy and freedom of life then none shall rob the least of Christ's little ones of its best inheritance, its share in the blessing uttered ages ago in Judea, for all lime, and lor all children of every land and race. Sy Amen. The first lime I to'ok my eld est boy to church when he was two years old, I managed, with, some carresses and frowns and candy to keep him very still till the sermon was half done. By this lime his patience was exhausted, aud he climb ed to his feet, and stood on the seat, look ing at the preacher (his father) quite intent ly. Then, as if be had hit upon a certain relief for bis troubles, he pulled me by the chin to attract my attention, and exclaimed, in a distinct voice, "Mamma, make papa say Amen !" Tut papers are bragging of an invention by which leather can be tanned in ten min utes We have seen the human hide, how ever, tanned in five. Oar schoolmaster used to do it occasionally in two. .TrP. . Ii I II ' 1. I uiiiui I A miser being dead, and fairly interred, came to the banks of the river Slyx, desi- I ring to De ierneu over along wit a the other ghosts. Charon demanded his fare and was surprised to 6ee the miser rather than pay it, throw himself into the river and be made to him i . . All Tartarua was in an uproar; and each of the judges was meditating some punish ment suitable to a crime of 6uch dangerous consequence to the infernal revenues. "Shall ha bft chained tr lha riick alonf Let me tell yon of an adventure of a little seven years old friend of mine. Ike H who is sufficiently mischievous to claim a cousinship, at least, with Ike Partington. Ike strayed away to the 'raging canal,' one day last week, and, of coarse, fell in. A benevolent boatman fished him out. Ike cared not to go home ; so he went damp and despairing, to a clerk in his father's em ploy, and submitting to him the following ingenious proposition : "Dr. S., you whip me, and tell pa it'3 all settled." jar entry?' A Clergyman observing a poor man in the road breaking stones with a pickaxe, and kneeling to get at his work better, made thin remark : "Ah ! John, I wish I could break the stony hearts of my hearers as easily as you are breaking these stones." The man replied : "Perhaps, master, yoa don't work on your knees !" A young lawyer of Bloomsburg wrote to an old limb of the law in Illinois, which reads thu3 : "Is there an opening in your part of the conntry, that I can get into ?'' Answer ''There is an opening in my back yard, about thirty feet deep, no curb around it. If it will suit you come on." A Lawyer on his death bed willed all his property to a lunatic asylum, statin g as his reason for so doing thai he wished his prop erty to return to the liberal class of people who had patronized him. It is a singular fact that a woman cannot look from a precipice of any magnitude without becoming dizzy. But what is still more singular, the dizziness departs the very moment somebody puts hia arm around her wiast to keep her from falling. Queer, isn't it ? "Landlord," said a commercial traveller, "you do me too much honor you let me sleep among the big bugs last ni;jht." ' Oil, don't be too modest, my dear sir," said the landlord, "I doubt not they have Eome of your own blood in their veins." A Clergyman had a milk-white horse, which, on account of its beautiful form, he called Zion. Havir; ordered his horso lo the door, a friend asked him where he was going. "Why," said he, "lo Mount Zion." Wanted About 340 good looking young men to stand in front of our churches and stare the young ladies out of countenance, as they pass out of church. Those wish ing an engagement should apply immedi ately at the station houo. m m m Senses returning From latest accounts we learn that the inhabitant of ''Goose Island" have concluded not to secede from our glorious union. Wk believe That 'tis sweet for friends to meet and chat al the firesids hearth ; bet would it not more sweetness lend, to have some dear and loving friend without one though: to mar to read aloud, to that hap py crowd, the contents ol the Starl Tub proof of a pudding is in eating ; ihe proof of a woman is in making a pudding and the proof of a roan is in being able to dine without one. Somb people's highest idea of content merit is to sit in the house aud see others get Etuck in the mcd. Wht is a chicken sitting on a fence like a cent ? Answer The head is on one side and the tail on the other. Whejt does a cow become landed estate ? By turning her into ihe field. Not so That a person can walk Lever ing street after nightfall without, endanger ing his neck. Scarce very "Spondulicks" and brev itieswish our friendi would furnish the former. That's -Never be idie-alway. ba.Vto re.b)ji,d ud";Z?lUVi99V something to do. many a garden roves, Xhomi lhe ,ay of courtship oe'r; teut when he findJ.h.ag.CAv.e'.h-' '--. i,., NUMBER 52. The London Times, . Vron lm,r;c, nr,,riKllfD. . ,i,.-wL er dcV Eure, the following account of a visit to the London Times printing establishment i I have visited, at London, the printing office of the Times. It is truly something great and wonderful ; there is no where in France anything of the kind to equal it. At the starting of the paper in 1791, the Times consisted of only a single page, and was printed by a hand-press, which struck off one side of two hundred sheet per hour. In 1814 Kamig made a press which struck off 1,800 sheets. In 1827 Applegartb, aid ed by Courier, constructed a hew one, on which 4.000 to 5,000 copies could be print ed. In 1828 the same Applegarth estab lished his famous vertical machine, which I examined, and on which 10,000 copies per hour are struck off. Since 1828 the managers of the Times have erected anoth er machine, with horizontal cylinders, which strikes off eight copies at once, or about 12,500 per hour. These two presses, which make, while at work, a deafening noise, and which can be stopped at a mo ment's notice, are moved by a steam en gine of forty-five horse power. Adjoining the room in which is the boil er, is a closet containing white marble bathing-tubs, intended for the workmen in the establishment. It cost ninety guineas. A compositor on ihe Times must have passed an examination, showing that he can set at teast 40 lines of 56 letters, or a about 2,240 letters per hour. The price paid for type-setting is lid. per thousand letters, at which rate the compositor can make from 25 to 30 francs in an ordinary day's work. This amounts to about $5 a daj. There are 124 compositors employed, 50 of whom are occupied solely in setting up advertisements. Five or 6ix stenographers take notes of parliamentary proceedings at Westminster, and return every quarter of an hour to the newspaper office, to put their copy in 6hape and let the composi tors have it without delay. In this way it often happens that a speech delivered at two o'clock in the morning appears in the journal which is struck off at six o'clock and distributed al seven. The editorial room is large and well light ed. In the centre is a huge oak table, and around the room are little desks furnished with every convenience for writing. Ad joining, is a dining-room for the editors,and the archive-room where are stored all the files of the Times siuce its foundation. Next to the archive chamber, I saw the proof readers' moms, where are hundreds of dictionaries and encyclopedias, in all languages and relating to all subjects. A dozen proof readers are employed during the duy and another dozen daring the night. They have an eating-room adjoining that where they work, and their meals are pro vided al the expense of the establishment. On another story is a small room where are printed the registers and envelopes for the mail papers. Every one of the editors living in London carries with him a nnmber of envelopes addressed to the Times, so that in any place where he may happen to be, at the theatre, the races, or elsewhere, he can send by a special messenger his copy to the office. The foreign correspondents have envelopes of read paper, which are sent immediately on their arrival from the Post OiRce lo the Times office. Supplies of paper and ink are constantly kept in readiness. Four thousand pound.-) ' of ink are used each week. The paper is weighed in the establishment by a very in genious machine. It is also postmarked ou the spot. The journal appears every morning and evening. But sometimes during the day special editions are issued when important news demands. This extra edition can be prepared in two hours. When I visited the establishment it waa one o'clock in the day, and ihe news had just arrived of the death, at half past twelve of Albert Smith. At halt-past two tho Times appeared with his obituary. The administration of the Times has noth ing to do with the supscriptions lo the pa per. Smith, of the Strand, sees to the mail ing of the papers for England, Europe, and, indeed the entire world. Mr. Smith lakes thirty thousand copies a day, sixteen thou sand of which he receive at 5 o'clock in the morning, and dispatches them by tho carriers at six o'clock. The other number of the Times are bought by one hundred and seventy news-dealers, who pay in ad vance. They order each day the number of copies they will need for the day follow ing. They pay thirty - centimes for each copy, retaining it at fifty centimes! Tho management of the paper lose something on each sheet by selling it at such a price, but look to the advertisements for their profits. The charges for these advertise ments are, of course, very large, and the amount must be considerable, as the revenue of the Times reaches to nearly fivu million francs. I was told that one of the proprietors of the Times had given as a dow ry to Wm daughter the roouey accruing from one advertising page of thpr-r lor one year. - The wear -!- . ' v 11,8 Per ine weajn w- . . which reians in ihia pelBTishm.nt - 7.. . . " .9.4m vui.-a every two years the lower stories of the building In the museum I w ,v with which, some lea years ago, Z work menoftheostahii.hrJL. . 0,k T seen a pro- You ft, f ,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers