•Ht.) .l D. A, BUEHLER,. =TOR AND PROPRIETOR. VOL. IV/11.-434 [From the National Era. WORKINGMEN. •f AVIITIITINII DOGIAAXE. List ye item, hard-handed toilers-- ye who suffer—ye who strive— TO! has helm when your despoilets Ohre ye lash, and task, and gyve: Time has been hen each low murmur Brought the scourge upon your flesh— When each struggle fixed ye firmer In piar tyrant's cunning mesh ! Ye were then the bond and 'vessel, And your marten' will obeyed-- Though ye built his lordly castle, And his arms and armor made: Even the chains with which he galled you, Your own fingers did create— And the very power which thrilled you From yourselves was delegate! Thus ye autTemd--atill tinkncreing-- Still in doubt and darkness toiled-- fltillyoursweat and blood were flowing— Still your tyrants wronged and spoiled! For ye thought that ye were minions, And that lords were nobler things— And your faith was old Opinion's, And the holy right of kings. But ofle bold and firm endeavor Broke your chains like threads of :As:— And a shield was raised forever, 'Oainst the wrongar's fell attacks! Now ye feel that gloricius lahori, Stain not mans immortal soul : Iran ploughs must rule the sabres, Sledges must the crown control ! ye mime the shaft to heaven— . Still ye force each mighty toil: Still by you the waves are riven— Still by you in rent the eoiL BM ye kel that ye no longer Are the slaves which once ye were— Feel that ye are purer—atronger--- Feel that ye can wait—and bear! THE BLIND BOY It was a blessed summer dey, The dowers bloomed—the air was mild, The little birds poured forth their lay, And every thing in'autture In pleasant thought I wandered on Beneath the deep wood's ample shade, Till suddenly I came upon Two children who had thither strayed. Just at an asred birch tree's foot A little boy and girl reclined ; His hand - In her's she kindly put. And then I saw the boy was blind. The children knew not I was near, A tree «mantled me from their view ; But all they said I well could hear. And t could are all they might do. .Dear Mary,' said the poor blind boy, "That little binl sings very long ; • Bay. do you see him in his joy, And is he pretty us his song !" .Yee, Edward, yea," replied We maid, “I see the bird on yonder tem..” The Boor boy sighed, and gently said, 1 wish that I could : The flowent, you say, are very fair, And bright green leaves am on the trees, And pretty birds are singing there— How beautiful for one who sees. Yet f the fragrant flowers eon smell, Anti 1 ran feel the green leafs shade, And lean hear the notes that swell From those dear bird* that God has made So. sister, God to ow is kind. Ttniagli sight, alas ! lie has not given ; Bet tell roe, are there any blind Amorrg the children up in ',leaven !" "No, dniansit Edward, there all see-- nut, why sok me • thing so odd !" 'eh, Mary, Ik's so good to ass, 1 thought I'd lilelo loisk'at God 1" Ere long disease his hand had laid On that dear boy so meek and mild: His widowed mother wept, and prayed That God would spare her sightlem child He felt her warm team °Aber fare, And rid, ..Oh never weep for me: I'm going to a bright—bright place, Where Mary says I God shall so 1 And you'll be there, dear Mary, too Ent, mother, when you get up there, Tell Edward, mother, that 'tis you You knew 1 never saw you here." He spoke no more, hut sweetly smiled Until the Goal blow was given— When God took up that poor blind child And opened first his eyes in Heaved. TRUE ECONOMY-A SKETCH OF REAL At a musical soiree last winter at the splendid mansion of a thriving merchant. and withal a man of taste and liberality. we were struck with the magnificence which mat our eye in every direction,— The higly polished mahogany doors—the ponderous and beautiful Egyptian marble mantle-pieces—the rich 'Wilton and royal carpets—higly polished chairs and divans —elaborately carved and gilt cornices—pier glasses—suspending girandoles—satin cur tain.s--all after the fashion of Henry IV. The drawing a rooms were filled with ele gantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, and the supper and refreehtnents presented a scene of richness and luxury only to be looked for front persons of over-grown for tunes., "Bow long can this last t" we said to .ourselreir, together with reflections which pressed upon us as to the rapid manner we -gain and get rid of fortunes in this city.— Now like a rocket we ascend aud descend! One day last week we took a ride in a light toekaway over one of the delightful 'roads on Long Island, to catch a little air' and an appetite for dinner, and stopped to . look it an Italian cottage with green Veni -tian piazetiaa and portions, in neat taste, auttonfided by. a white palling, and filled with shrubbery. -a Shoop, light homestead, -with•some fields of *torn and potatoes, and :a. patch of Wheat,in the distance. While gazing on the simplicity;-theerfahleits, and 'comfort of the premises, we were roused 410y.„Iteatini -some one ,stpll ont.-o , Hallo, trilistliil'i 'lnd Otlebking•discoveisd it to Jr. our worthy host of '4'...........1% - ie• - . -- 11 1 ; more a tweed jacket and'a manias hat. 'wCoitte, Slighttuul see My improvements." , Asia he. 1 7 011 st go down to town to dinner-it 411 r be late." , '-' 4 ! 0 you *Set. My dinner is just ,1:' , 'toil jolt shall dine with iced. re ad. He, iti ' T, y . take the gentleman's horse." :' l l ,l %Having. erdoyed his hospitality while la in splendor, I could not refuse his .x.' and salt under adverse circumstances 0 , I iliglifed iryd walked into the pe,rlor. r it . ,chance ! A plainly furnished cot ,' spn-blittomed chairs, wooden man piesits Ind plated candlesticks, mahog : • filmed looking-glass, an eight-day Atkin the corner, and a map or two on th Willa. Then the dinner table—how plain I White dell plates, very plain then-handled knives and forks, tumblers sand wine-glasses blown at the New Jersey 1 sitiatrworks, and salt-cellars dear at six-1 pence. The dinner was plant.but good— the vegetables fresh—the bread home-baked —and we were.waited upon by a strapping girl with a significant. squint. The host ess of the late princely mansion looked fresh and ruddy, in a cross-barred muslin dress and bobinett cap. She was cheer fulland happy. Over a glees of Madeira —the remnant of better days—we talked of numerous subjects, and philosophised with all possible delicacy 'upon the admi rable manner they bore the change in their condition. The lady stared, and the host, rolling out a volume of smoke from a Prin cipe cigar, exclaimed with surprise— Wy, my dear fellow, did you suppose I was broke—smashed—gone over the darn—eh Oh !no ! no! This change you'etee is not owing to any reverse of for tune—my business is as prosperous as ev er- I did not wait tillbankruptcy overtook me; but coasidering our children. our fu ture prosperity, and the obligation due to society and good example, we agreed to spend $1,500 per annum in the contented manner you see us. instead of the 15,000 in the giddy mazes of fashion. I ride to to town to attend to my business—work in any garden—have plain and substantial cheer—bake my own bread—make my own butter—lay my own eggs, and have a glass of wine for an old friend:" Here was not only a change, but an im provement—a cheap augmentation of hap piness—a true an :sensible economy— prontising rich results, and worthy of im itation.—M. M. Noah. (From the Saturday Rambler A ROUGH .DIAMOND. More than 11.11f , ti century ago. a Scotch man, named David, made his appearance and settled in the north end of lioston.— From what part of the land of cakes he ca me, what was his cognomen, or how or where he had lived previously, it is not our present purpose to inquire: Let it suffice that he was a man. His features were coarse and harsh, after the most ap proved Lowland Scoieh pattern ; and, in figure, he was tall, gaunt, broad-shoulder ed, and big-boned. Immediately on his arrival, he addicted himself unremittingly ti the hardest - kind of manual labor,. and soon gained the reputation of the best drain-delver and well-Tinker in the city. Rough was he in speech, uncouth was he in dialect ; caustic and severe was his lan guage, niggardly were his habits; far all of which causes he was pretty general ly disliked by his neighbots during his lifetime. Ile was never known to pur- chase aught for himself beyond the bare necessaries of life. On his family he en joined constant industry and frugality,— stiginatizCil the poor, in mass, as lazy, worthless, vagabonds t and was never seen to give any of them a crust or a penny.— For all that, his untiring industry and scrup ulous honesty were qualities which it was impossible not to respect. In the begining he had bought a small tenfoot tenement, of two rooms, and in it he lived till the Clay of Kis death. 'Yet he grew rich. With his savings, and ite ac cumulated interest thereof, he bought ma ny small buildings, calculated for atiodes of the poor. lie did not, however, grow indolent, or vain, or proud, as he grew rich; prosperity wrought no change •in that iron cld man. Hot or cold, wet or dry, David might daily be . found at the bottom of some excavation, hare legged, with his coat off, and the sweat streaming front his brow. Very rigorous he was in exacting punctual payment of his rents, scolding abominably at the least delay ; and, yet David was never known to dis tress a widow or a siek person who had shown himself willing to work when well. To drunken, idle, or extravagant tenants, he was inexorable as fate ; and thereby he acquired the reputation of an insatiaable, grasping, miserly tyrant and oppressor ; indeed, of a kind of:Caledoni anogre. It wasnot uncommon in David's neigh. borhood, especially among his tenants, for persona in distress to find relief at their door when they least expected it, in the shape of a cord of wood, a barrel of flour, a parr of blankets, or the like; but no one knew the source whence these bounties flowed. It was generally supposed that Da vid's cruelty had stirred the compassion of benevolent persons, who cared not to to have their good deeds known of men ; or, it might be that the donors . were wast ing pains and money in vain attempts to shame the Scot out of his hard humor.— How much did that common liar, Madam Common Report, wrong the old Scotch man ! But it was not to be denied that David viii could be charitable, though those who admitted the fact qualified it by ad ding that it was only in his own war).- when it coot_ him nothing. No one was more ready to lift a fallen horse, or to watch with the sick, or treat them more tender ly than he did—all without intermitting his daily toil. Once ho was called to sit with .a child that had the croup. On the the third evening, the doctor called, and prescribed a draught, to be taken at a pre scribed hour without fail, or the infant, would inevitably die. H, then retired, and• weary David, after reiterated iduioni- Akins to die, nerve to , awaken him in time .to adminiiter the potion, settled himeelf in an arm chair by the bedside, and allowed sleep to prevail. over him.. While bp alumbeead, Ane tatiody /ARi pon, in excellent neighbor and thorough gossip,. lu►ppehed in,. unfortunately ; and torthwith a constiltation took place , between the nurse and. her over thesick bed. The worthy old ladies>rooniidered the cane .and the.phases of the , disease, tasted and smelt the presdripticin, antlikill at, the conclusion, nun.. 'con., [David baler's*. leep,] that the physic did not look whole some, and that it Wite best not to adminis ter it. It was near morning when the Scotch man awoke. The child was dead . long before, and the nurse had been afraid to awaken him. Ile rubbed his oyes, and asked at what hour the babe had departed. At two o'clock. she replied. The doie was to have have been given at twelve.— Ile look and saw it on the mantel. Frow GETTYSBUIIG, PA.- FRIDAY EVENING, AUGUST %O f 18.0. nings.he asked her why she had not obey ed his and the doctOr's commands. She did not know;,she meant no harm. At any rate, two head's were better than one, if one was a doctor's. Neighbor Lolli pose had just dropped in, and tasted the phial, and it tasted a kind of curious, so they had thought it best for the child not to take it. You thought !" cried David, fearfully incensed. "You b--litind so you and that mild faggot have murdered the bairn !" With that, he smote the woman with his stick- more than once. She sued him for it, and obtained one cent damages.— Sure that was a righteous verdict; if ever man was justifiable in inflicting a most un merciful drubbing, surely David was. One day, a poor old woman, at whose door a load of woodhad just been dropped by some means discovered that David was the Good Samaritan, and inferred, justly, ioo,'that he was the unknown ben efactor of the poor of the North End.— She ran to his house with all the speed gratitude could inspire, cast herself, sob bing aloud, at his feet, and, with uplifted hands, exclaimed— "0, Mr. W-I you! you, whom every body calls a miser ! you! But the poor widow knows of your goodness ; and all the neighborhood shall know it, too." "Hauld yore tongue, ye daft jade," said the immoveable old man. "Gang yore way home, and dines cleave nit wi' e vere elishmaelavers; and mind, ye dinna say nnething to nacbody. hae a' the puir widows in toon about me; gin yere nay the wiser." Thus lived that grim old man, e;releas of the world's ways and the world's opin ions ; reckless of the sympathies and amenities of life; dispensing good in se cret, in his humble, but useful and honora ble career; like the starless night, which, though gloomy to the eye, sends fresh life to-the drooping flowers, and new vigor to man and beast. And so he died, neither asking or receiving sympathy from any but his own children. his fortune has long been distributed or dissipated, and there is none left to mourn for rough, hon est Davy l not one. His daugter had his remains conveyed to - Mouid'Auburn, and erected a stone to his memory, which, could he have foreseen, he would have rebuked on his.. death-bed, as a needler,s and extravagant expense. But, slept he withoura-stone, Ood would, notwithstand ing. know where to find him, when the last trump shall sound the finalawakening. MR. FRAMPTON'S INTRODUCTION' TO , A ROYAL TIGER. When I was a young shaver, having lived in the world some twenty }•ears or so, I was engaged as a sort of supeinumary clerk in the house of Wilson and Brown at Calcutta; and having no one else who could be so easily spared, they determined to despatch me on a business negotiation to one of the native princes, about eight hundred miles up the country. I travell ed with a party of the —dragoons, com manded by a Capt. Slingsby, a man about five years older than myself, and as good a fellow as ever lived. Well, some how or ofher he took a great fancy to me, and nothing would do but that I should accom pany him in all his sporting expilditions— for I Bilotti tell you that he was a thorough sportsman—and I believe, entertained some strange notion that he should be able to make one of ine. One unfortunate mor ning, he came into my tent, and woke me out of a sound sleep which I had fallen in to, after being kept ,awake half the night by the most diabolical howls and screams that ever were heard out of Bedlam, ex pecting every minute to see some of their p2rformers stem in to sup, not...with, but upon me. " Come, Frampton, wake up, man," cried Slingsby, "here's glorious news." "Whatia.it 1" said I--"have they found another !lumberer aleamong the baggage?" "Ale nonsense," was the reply. "A ehikkaree (native hunter) has just come into camp to say, that a' young bullock was carried' off yesterday, and is lying half eaten in the jungle about a mile from this place ; so at last, my boy, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to a real live tiger." "Thank ye," said I, "you're very kind, but if at all inconvenient to you this morn ing, you can put it off another day will do quite as well for me—l'm not in the last hurry." It was of no use, however.; all'l got for my pains was a poke - in the ribs, and an in t junction to lose no-time in getting ready. Before we had done breakfast, the great man of the neighborhood, Rajah some bodY or other, made his appearance on his elephant attended by a train of townies, who, were to undertobe the agreeable duty of beating. Not being considered fit to take care of myselfo—e melancholy' fact of which I was too conscious—it was decreed that Blingsby, and. I should occupy the same howdah. Accordingly at the time appointed, we mounted our elephant t and having a formidable array of guns handed pp to us,, we started. Ai my 'commie% and indeed every one else concerned in the matter, evidently considered' it completely as a party .of the utmost pleasure, and seemed to be prepa- sad to enjoy themeelves, I endeavored to persuade myself that I did so.tito ; and, consoled by the refieetion that, if the tiger bad positively'etilen half *bullock• putter day afternoon, it niitild never be worth his -while to- settle our elephant, and run the risk'of beingvh4, for the sake-Of devour, int me, I hilt hither bold than otheintise. After proceeding for soraedistantle through the jungle, ind rousing, as it 'appeared' to me, every beast that had come out of Nn , Ws Ark; except a tiger, our elephant, who had hitherto , conducted himself in a very 'quiet and gentlemanly manner, suddenly raised his - trunk, and-trumpeted several times,—a sure sign, as the mahout inform ed us, that a tiger was somewhat close at hand. "Now, Fratnpton," cried my compan ion, cocking his double-barrel, "look out !" "For squalls," returned I, finishing the sentence for him. "Pray, is there any "FEARLESS AND yREE." particular part they like to be shot int whereabouts shall aim f" . . _ _ • "Wherever yort can," replied Singsbly. "be ready, there he is, by Jupiter," and as he spoke, the long grass • 'about a hundred yards in front of us was gently agitated, and I caught a glimpse of what appeared & yellow and black streak moving swiftly away in an opposite direetion—"Tally ho !" shouted Slingsby, saluting the tiger with both barrels. An angry roar proved that the shot had taken effeet, and in anoth er moment, a large tirr, lashing his side with his tail, and his eyes glaring with rage. cattle bounding toward, us. "Nov what's to be done t" exclaimed I—"if you had but let him 'alone, he was going away us quietly as prosible." Slingsby's reply was a smile, and Nei*. ing another gun he fired again. On re- ceiving this shot this tiger stopped for a moment, and then, with a tremendous bound, sprang towards us, alighting at the foot of a small tree not a yard from the el ephant's head. "That last shot crippled him," said my companion, "or we should have had the pleasure of his nearer acquaintance—now for the coup do grace, fire away!" and as he spoke he leaned forward to take delib erate aim, when suddenly the front of the howdah gave way, and tb my horror, Slingsby was precipitated .over the ele phant's head, into, as it seemed to me, the very jaws of the tiger. A fierce growl, and a suppressgd cry of-agony:proved that the monster had seized his prey, and I had completely given my friend up for lost, when the elephant, although - greatly alarm ed, being urged on by the mahout, took a' step forward and twisting Ids , trunk round the top of the Young tree, bent it down a cross the loins of the tiger, thus forcing the tortured animal to quit his hold, and afford ing Slingdby an opportunity of crawling beyond the reach of its teeth and claws.— , Forgetting my own fears bl i the imminence of my friend's danger, I only waited till I could get a shot at the tiger Without running the risk of hurting Slingsby, and then fired both barrels at its head, and was lucky e nough to wound it-mortally. The other sportsmen coming up at this moment, the brute teceived his quietus, but poor Slings.. by's arm was broken where the tiger had seized it with big teeth, and his chest was severely laceratedby its claws, nor did he entirely recover the shock for many months. And this was my first introduction tort roy al tiger, Sir. I saw many of them after wards; during the time -I -spent in India, but 1. :an't spy I ever had much liking for their society—timplk!" A CAPITAL JOKR.—Th t eirti Chancel lor of Ireland; having nand appointimrn to visit the Dublin Insane Assylum, re pared thither in the absence of the chief manager, and was admitted by one oldie keepers, who was waiting to receive a patient answering the appearance of Sir Edward. He appeared to be very talka lives, but the attendants humored him and answered all his questions. He asked if the surgeon General had arrived, and the keeper answered hint that ho had not yet come, but that he would be there immedi ately. "Well," . said he, "I will inspect some of the rooms•tantil4m.arrives.”—. "Oh, no," said the keeper, "we could not permit that at all." "Then I will walk for a while in the gar den," said his lordship, "whit I am waiting for him." "We cannot let you go there either, sir." "What !" said he, "don't you know that I am the Lord Chancellor t" "Sir," said the keeper, "we have four more Lord Chancellors here already." He got in a great fury and they were be ginning to think of the strait waistcoat for when, fortunately, the Surgeon Gen eral arrived. "Hie the chancellor arrived yet ?" asked 'The man burst out laughing at-him, and said. "Yes, sir, we have him safe; but he is far the moat outrageous patient we have." Mr. O'Connell told this anecdote in Dublin, at a public meeting. THE BITERS HIT Sonic days ago a story went the rounds touching a man, who, having presented himself in - his shirt sleeves at the American Museum, New York, received the loan of a coat from Mr. Barnum, and after viewing the curiosities, sloped with the garment, thus obtaining a eight of the elephant and a splendid swallow tail for twenty-five cents, This reminds us of an affair that occurred in 1840; on board the old Colum bus, when she lay at Charleston Navy Yard. One day a long green Vermonter straggled on board the frigate ' and examin ed every thing on deck with curious ey es. . The officer of the watch, from the bearing and neatness of his uniform, attracted the Yankee'a :notice. "(dot a pron.) , good Place bere—heyl" he inquired. The officer assented. • "What wa ges do you getl" "One hun dred and twenty-five dollars a montii, air." '"One hundred and tw'entrirret dollars.; All teir ourself!. Shoh!" ."10 se"` sir." "Wall I wonder if 1 couldi'l get some thing to do here my self?" "Oh ! yes; you'd make a pretty good inidshipman.". - -' "Well, what ' s midshipmaa!a wages 'tor a green hand I" "Forty dollars a Month, only." "Only forty dollars ! Jeruadem ! wby I was goieto hire out for ten.' But where en Ihe made a midshipman', on t Say qutek." - • . "Down below sir, in the steer. soon as I'4 t relieved I'll see 'to it. "• Down went the quizzer and the quizzed. A bevy of midshipmen.required no profiapting to perpetrate a piece of Mis chief. A spurious warrant was soon made out, and the green-horn equipped inn splen did uniform, including an elegant chapeau and costly sword, by a joint contribution of the mess. Thus furnished, he was di rected to present himself to Commodore S. in the cabin, and report ready for duty. Ito was told that the Commodore might be pretty gruff—"it was a way he had," but ho should not mind it. The steerage being full, the new midshipman wag• to de mond quarters in the Commodore's eabin infan t , he was ordered to take poisession of a certain stateroom.-- The CoinmO dore's black looks and angry - words were 'to be regarded as nothing—he had no right to use either. Thus uposted up,"- the vici tim presented himself to the Commodore with—. ..014 hoes, how are.you 1" The Commodore 'stared. lie hadcome across a rare anis. "Take a mutt, sir," "I kin help myself, old feller ; I gineral ly do," was the reply of the Vermonter, as he flung himself into one seat and cross ed his fts upon another. "You are one of the new midshipmen, I suppose,'•' remarked the Commodore; who, from the first, suspected something. aint nothin' chic." "Shall I trouble you foricinr warrant oid boy. " The Commodore looked at the warrant, and then at the visiter. "Who gave you this ?" • "The fellers tip stairs, and Pnweidy for duty." That's enough. Now you can go." • "Not as you knows on, Squire. The cellifFs chock full—and I aint a goin' out of this 'ere in a hurry—l tell you now.— Oh, you needn't rare up, old feller. I see what's the matter—You're a leetle cracked up here!" and the brilliant youth touched his forehead "with his forefinger. "I am going into this chamber to have a right good snooze, boots and all, by gravy !" As he was proceeding' to execute this menace, the Commodore took hiin by the arm and led him to the gangway. Point ing to the sentinel, he remarked mildly, "You see that man with-i =maxi...saw , if you don't clear out diredtly, and leave the ship and yard, never to show your fate here again, I'll order him to shoot you !" The Yankee broke—and in two'seconds his blue coat-tail was seen floating in his rear, as he dashed out of the yard with the speed of a flying jackass. Ina minute afterwards, hen dozen ter rified midshipmen rushed on deck, and asked for liberty to goon - there. - - "Young gentlemen," said the COMITY& dore,'"l grant no liberty to-day." Sit. faces felt "a feet," and six young jo keri returned to their mess-room as Mel ancholy as mutes at an alderman's funeral. They never saw or heard anything of the Yankee afteiward, nor the uniform either ! [Boston Tinter. MEALMEN •"I've known some mean men in my time. There was Deacon Overreach, now ; .he.wasi roman he always carried e heti in his gig-box when he tnivelleil to pick up the oats his horse wasted in the manger, and lay an-egg--for -his breakfast in the morning. And there was'lltigo Himmel man, who' madehis wile dig potatoes to pay for the_marriage license. Lawyer," he continued, addressing himself toßev-, clay, "I must tell you that story of Hugo, for it's not a bad one; and good stories, like potatoes, sin' as plenty as they was when I was a boy. Hugo is a neighbor of mine, though considerable older than I be; and a mean neighbor he is, too. Well. when he was going to get married to Gret chen Kelp, he goes down to Parson Rogers at. Digby, to get a „license." "Parson," says he, "what's the price of a license ?" "Six dollars , " says he. "Six dollars," says Hugo. ..That's a dreadful eight of money! Couldn't you take less ?" "No," says he. "That's what the cost me to thesecretary's Once atHalifax. "Well, how much do you ax for..publish ing in church, then?" .. • "Nothing," says the parson. - "Well,' says Hugo, "that's so cheap I OW% itipect you to give no cflange back. I Will( I'll be published. How long does it-take ?" "Three Sundays." "Three Sundays !" says Hugo. "Well, that's a long time, too. But three Sundays only make a fortnight, after all ; two for the covers and one for the inside like; and six dollars is a great sum of money for a poor man to throw away. I must wait.' So off he went jogging towards home, and a looking about as mean as a new sheared sheep when all at once a bright, thought came into his bead, and back 6 went as fast as his horse could carry him. aParson," says he, “I've changed. my mind. Here's the six dollars. I'll tie the knot to-night with my tongue that I can't with my teeth." "Why, whit in astute kr the meaningef all this r says the parson. "Why," says Hugo, "rve been cipher ing it out in my hftd, and it's cheaper than publishing bands idler all. You see, air, it's potato-digging time- ' and if I wait to be called in church, her la ther will hare' her work for nothing; kid as handsaw:scarce. and wages high, if I many her to-night she can begin to dig our It4rn to-morrow ; and that will pay for the license, and just seven shillings over;'for there ain't a man in all Clements that tan dig and carry as many busliels as Gretchen can. And be sides, fresh Wiles, like fresh seer/into, work like smoke•at fitit; but they . get savvy and lazy after a whilef.",-4/4/1.11; a Colony, by Sant Mick. The above—speaking of licenses—zre minds us of an anecdote not long since re lated by one who was **them to see ;" and though' we cannot hope to give any idea upon paper of the inimitable **cracker" drawl with which our fair, friend amused un.vithe story itself is so fair an example of an eye to business, thit we will do our best to recall it for our readers; It was sometime in the summer of 1845, that Mrs. Augusta, Georgia, journied into the "up country" on a visit to a sister who was the wife of a planter there residing. Mr. Colbert, the brother in-law, was also a justice of the peace; and Alta. J was not a little amused by his recital of the queer cases that were daily brought before him. It so happened, that one bright, sunny afternoon, Mr. C. had ridden over to a neighboring plantation —and not many minutes after a tall, lung looking "Other"' was seen approaching upon an equally scraggy looking steed. ne,wVf Willoint.hat or coat, but did not seem-stall aware of his deficiency of cos tume; for, hitching up his striped cotton "whisperables" with one band, and grasp ing tightly the collar of his homespun shirt with the other, he made directly to the pi azza, where sat the ladies engaged with their:needles. "is the Square to hum?" p was the ,firsi ‘golo is not," rep lied Mrs. Colbert, not a little amused at the singular apparition. "Sorry for that," said the cracker, (who, by the way, had rather a good tempered looking face, and seemed about twenty-sev en, or thereabouts,) "must see the Square," continued he, as hammed carelessly against a pillar. "C, lie of any assistance to you," as • ' rs. C., who was , net unused, inTier heaband'sabsence, to deal out 'craps of the la* as 'Squire, pro •ttn. "Guesernot, mann. I want the Square himself. I want ,to , git license." "A license V "said the lady in amazement; "pray Whitt do you tor ?" "To git miii7ed t. ", drawled the cracker, in the take-your:min-tithe of a torte , peculiar to that bless. A fair candidate 'for the yoke, thought Mrs. C., as she'kiked at the six-feet-three specimen of human nature that - so boldly declared his delerritination to take it upon himself. "And who are you going to mar . ry ?" "One 'them gale qp yonder," said the cracker; pointing stgoi fi cantly over the le ft shoulder;, and then ' at 'the suggestion of the lady, down sat the bridegroom to await the arrival-et 4birSquite.-- : -The not inconsid erable interval ~wltich elaPsed before the 'gentleman's return, being employed in talk ing to his steed, which bore the romantic name of , .Peachsti roe and Thunder ;"- r • and counting a quantity of specie, which he took frOm his pocket. Mr. colhert pt,leagth return/4, and, the cracker left the house not a little delighted at the possession of a scrip, of . papor which entitled hint ccitioilt silairiFiony on , his own aceotiitt A week or two after,,l6. - o.met,his new acquaintance, 'with a tali, strapping bola walking beaide him; ' ' ; whose , blue cambric bonnet, minded with elides of plesteboartl, was decorated with a white veil of t?feotton lace, which lay like a huge cloutlon its brim. "This is your wife, I pre purn‘ e," said Mr. C.,lookingreeiouslY at the phy dam eel. "No, that's our Sal," answered the cracker, crumily'l hain't got ,no Wife." Anditb it proved. Riding hick; it his utmost speed; With the license carefully guarded. the biideguicanarrlved about sun set at the house of his lady love, wheie their friends were already assembled to 8S• sist in the ceremony. Many h a d been the wonders at his , long delay, and at last one of the groomsmen declaied he-was a shab by fellow, and "didn't desert* . such a gall no how." To this the bride aisehted; whereupon thegromusman became'bolder, urged his claim to her hend, and strange to say, he wad not denied: So dui matter was settled, and out hero arrived' to find his hopes thus cruelly destroyed. But ."he was a man of sense." He deigned - trot ltrfitter tr tirproseh - z....her did not rave of falsehood and treachery, &Ater or poison, though the deceiver was his most intimate friend. "Welt then." said he, "sense yoteie got Loci, you might as well have the license too—'twill;sebe you and the Square trouble.' GI? 'tis a dollar and it's yours: The bargain was'concluded. The wed ping went on with a degree of spirit tieldom known in more civilized commnitiest oar hero danced with the bride, An the beat possible humot, and just before the assem bly was dispersed took the newly made husband aside to tell him "he was done out of half a dollar. I only gin the Square fif ty cents for that ere "license," said he'; and strode away with a chucklei thinkiag no doubt he had the best of the bargainsfier all. -WONMARFUL tifrATUS.- , • A piece of statuary has just been exhib ited in London which slitows What • mira cles art can do. The artist to whom the merit of this curious affair belongs, is na med Nandi° Monti. The Spectator describes this wonderful piece of.seulpture as follows : ,* "The effigy of iveeiltitl Veinal tending the everlettiogfiame, is curiosity`in weutP. featof art. The figure is• the size of life, it is 'clothed in t robe.- and a veil thrown _Over the head enyelopes the face. shoulders. and•Oart of tho,annel the veil ll'transpergril Not merely do you dis cern the-Covered foruis where they actual l•y' aerial dut and touch the veil, but you think yOu can see through the veil under neath the full and delipately finished fea tures of a most beautiful face you can detect the retreating curves of the profile, and the +Swelling forms of the lips, with a space- between the softly but crisply round flesh and the covering gauze. You arc deceived Workingni the transparency of the mar ble, with cunning skill, the sculptor has so arranged the thinitessfand thickness of this material, that the refracted light suggests the forms beneath, which are not barved. The artist has chiseled the outward form of the veil, and in doingso has pasnted the veiled face in the light and shade glancing through the marble. lie calls it "uno scnerzo," and it is so ; but it is much more --it is a very beautiful figure." NEEY IN THE HUMAN FnA]lE. Very few, even mechanics, are aware how much machinery there is in their own bod ies.- Nat only are there hinges and joints in the bones but there are valves in the veins, a forcing pump iu the heart and oth er curiosities, One of the muscles of the eye - forms a real pulley. The bones which support the body are mado precisely in that form, which has been calculated by mathematicians, to be strong for pillars and supporting columns; that of hollow cylin ders. This form combines the greatest strength. Of this form are the quills of birds' wings, where these requisites are 11CeeSein V. TWO DoI.LARs Pitt AIM*: 3NEW SERTES---,NO. AN ORIENTAL GLIMhn. The Christian Reflector publishes an interesting loiter from Mrs. looser, lsle "Ferry Fonszerzu," of which we giib on extract "Twenty weeks Irma the day on which we went aboard, we anchored of Amherst"; and the next Monday morning were low,- er,ed into a Burmese boat, to proceed up to Maulmain. I was most agreeably dis appointed by my first view of the land et" palms and mosquitoes. Our boat pas very much like a long watering-trengh, whittled to a point at each end, and we were all nestled like a parcel of caged fowls, under a low bamboo cover, from which it was not easy to look out. Hut the shore alongside of which we were pushed up stream by the might of muscle, was bril. -tient with its unpiimed luxuriance of-ver— dure, and birds, and flowers. "Here some long tree drooped it* long trailers to the water, there the white rice bird, or a gayer stranger, with cham elcon neck and crimson wing, - coquetted.- with its neighbor, and the wealth of green bending below; and then followed !Os blossoms of new shapes and hue 4 and bearing new names, some in clusters, and some in long amber wreaths, stained here and there with lemon and vermillion, and all bearing that air of slumbrous richness which I believe is a characteristic of the ==ME=l2lfM herst Christians, who seemed as wild with joy as the birds themselves, [not that they were particularly birdlike in any other respect,) and there was laughing and chat ering enough to make any heart merry.— The first, being a universal language, I hail no .difficulty in understanding; but the latter sounded to me even more outland iali than their gaudy patsoea, bare brawny shoulders and turbaned heads, appeared to the eye, "To my taste. Mnulmain is a beautiful place, with its curious, weather-stained houses, set down in spacious compounds, which are hedged round by the bamboo, and filled with trophie fruit trees. To my taste, hay, because tastes differ widely; and mine, baying been formed on the'simple modelmf American country life, would not be diff i cult toplease. I have been told, however, by English ladies, that there were. few towns in the East so entirely unexceptionable as a residence in every respect. For Rangoon, whither we came a little more than a week since, I cannot say so much. Indeed, the two places aro so utterly unlike as to preclude any attempt at comparison. .Maulmein has sprung uP within the last fifteen years, and hat - all the sweet freshness of its youth about itj but Rangoon is an old dilapidated town with no, specimens of architectural splon dor,Tor roniance to spread 3 single feather by. crumbling in its narrow streets, but, still, more than half in ruins. . "The Government buildings are desert ed, some of the fine tanks that it used to boast filled with rubbish, the moat dry, the gates taken away, and the stockade in most p,arts laid flat for street pavements. And surf, pavetnents. Corduroy roads are no thing to them. This desolation is occa sioned by the last king's flaying made au attempt to remove the town front the riv er's edge, and leave the ground to money making foreigners—Greeks and Arineui ans, Musselmen, Jews, and a few English and Chinese. There are two Englishmen, ship captains, residing there now. Our house ("Green Turban's Den," as we have named it, since it is nearer that than a lodge, or a hall, or a cartage) is on a Moor man street—an upper story, with a Jew's Shop beneath it. It looks a little like civ ilization to see the children in their wide trousers, usually of crimson cotton, and their white close-fitting robes above, trudg ing oil to school, with their satchels on their shoulders, even though we know that that the extent of their learning is probably only to jabber the Koran; but it mars the picture some to watch from day to day and find no 'girls among them. "The Burnese women go into the street as openly as the men, but the wife of the true Musaelman never Meld the fresh air upon her cheek. Hereupon, I should like to propound a question to pity- Siehins, but I forbear. Money is a Moor man's god, as the Jew; and trade, trade, trade, I think, must be the burden of his prayers to Allah. It is very certain that not a miser of them in this neighborhood neglects his prayers ; for, such a din as they make about our ears of an evening would get them a berth for the night in a Boston watch-bouse. The old Abraliamito below is far the quietest; but even his hur ried voice, laden with Hebrew accents, • sometimes makes its way up through the fluor. As I write,'l glance down into the street, and see u Burman priest, distiegnislis able by the shaven head, and dirty yellow pasto,hugg,ing the vessel in which he receives alms to his breast, and glancing first at one side of the street and then the other, it ark._ pears to me, a little anxiously. No ne seems inclined to pay him any attention, and I am afraid the poor fellow will get no breakfast, nukes he turns some corner where he will hind more Boodhism. "From my window I can see the tips of several pagados; and, through the openings of a bamboo roof opposite, 1 catch glimpses of a cross crowning a Roinish elturch.-=. The Catholics can do the Protestant mis sionaries hut little mischief here now, as the alarm of poor 'Father Bruno,' at an in vasion which he appears to consider a ri sing up of the arch fiend himself, clearly eeinces. The new king is a rigid 40041. hist, and all foreign religions are on a par in his eyes. Boodhisin never was more popular throughout the empire than now. The king's brother, who is prime minister and heir apparent, pounds and cooks the rice for the priests with his own hands; and, when he has occasion to impose a Ono upon a Musselman, or any other fonrigner. instead of receiving the money hiMlo4:he kindly advises the poor wretch to Jeeseet it to the priests, and so buy merit GsV both; one profiting by the gilt the OW t . •y the suggestion. All kluaseintandass boo thrown into consternation of Palsi !Of di. report that his most Doodhistiell tyr in an extreme fit of piety, had obliged dine of their brethren to eat pork . ' ,iii.d ' ' i ."T 4 41 =ME