BY D. A. & C. H. BUEHLER VOLUME Hlll.l Sweedish Mother's Hymn MARY llowirr (gentle Mary Ilowitt, as she is sometimes called,) has translated from a favorite Swecdish author, the fol lowing beautiful Hymn, sung by a mother to her children, just before the parting "good night." She so loves little children that she delights to write anything which will make them happier or better, and ten derly says, that liod has sent them to gladden our earth—hilt here is the Hymn, for which we hope the grcatful children will join us in di:tanking her : There sitteth a dove so white Bud fair, All on the lily spray, And she listeneth how to Jesus Christ, The little children prey• Lightly she spreads het torridly wings, Anti to Bey/oils gate built Fped, And unto the Father its Ilenveo ,he hears The prayers which the children hove said. And back she conies nom !leaven's gate, And bring..—that dove an mild— From the Father in Ileavfn who hears her speak, A blessing on every child. Then children lilt up a pious prayer, It hears whatever you sot•. That !leavenly.dove ao white and fair All on tho lily spray. From Burritt's Christian Citizen THE DEFORMED GIRL. Poor Amy ! We never thought of her without an emotion of pity, and yet she al ways seemed happy. The only daughter of a widowed mother, who, with a true mother's holy loge , drew her little one on ly the more closely to her own heart, be cause she might not find a home in the hearts of ot hers ; with _that constant (+tinge less levo ever beaming hke sunlight around her, how could she be otherwise? Yes, Amy was very happy. It seemed as if the first ten years of her life were all sunshine ; and awn them came a dark cloud, and all was shadowed. Why, Amy dear, idea is the Hunter?" said her mother, anxiously, as the poor child stole noiselessly to her side, on her return from school one summer afternoon, and kid her haul almost timidly upon hers. Amy did not spoalc, hot the large tears were tremllling in lwr dark . eyes ; and lwr mother's heart grew s:01, as she f , hied her arms al - I,lllla her, and I In•lv licr to licr OLII. Tli,y sat in lint at last tin• child rais,sl ht.r. }wad, and in a low, twrie, dryurtgard mean, nintlwr :' "Why In you a,k t 113 t que , tinn. my !'• said lwr mother, i:urpri,wl awl staril,,l the in 11ir; —nirl it was on4y Ls "Be:luso, mother' n painful effort that 'li suppresiiiiil her is ing sobs, us she answered—iilieeituse, mot h er, Ann Edwards was vexed at me to day, Litiatisc I mould not go down to the hridi_re with her at noon, and she tinned me a little, ugly, deformed creature, ail she said she would not play with me any more. And that some of the other girls laughed, and _N. tin he'll tiler, and said she would show me how 1 walked, and she went limp ing along with one shoulder higher than the other ; and the girls all laughed again— but Luvy Elkrton. Nhe t. Id them they were very wiekcil, and eallie and asiC ! we to walk with her ; and u hen she saw that was crying, she kissed me, and told me that it was not my fault if Iw' deformed, that she loved me just us well as if I was like the other girls. her, what is it to be deformed ?" Poor Mrs. Wilson ! She passed through many a stern trial in her brief life, but never before through one like this. Yet she did not shrink front the painful (Int) that now devolved upon her. She felt that the time to which she had often look ed forward with so much solicitude, had ar rived, that the blessed unconsciousness which had so long encircled her unfortu nate little one, could surround her no long er, and she nerved herself to the task of re plying to the question which had been prof ered with so much earnestnrss. With the child's hands clasped in hers, and her head resting on her bosom, she slowly and gent ly unfolded the whole meaning of the sad word deformed ; and Amy listened, with her earnest eyes fixed upon her mother's. face, until she comprehended it fully. "And shall I always be so, mother ?" was the earnest inquiry, when her mother ceased speaking; "shall I not grow better as 1 grow older ?" How many Christian mothers would have answered truly as Mrs. Wilson did ? "I fear not, my child ; I see no reason to hope that you will." She was prepared for a passionate burst of sorrow, but not for the few calm words that followed her reply. "Then, mother, I wish I was dead." "That is a wicked wish, Amy," she said mildly, but very sorrowfully. "I know it, mother," said the child, as her eyes again filled with tears; "I know it, mother, but I do wish so.", "It is a selfish wish, Amy ; think how lonely I should bewithout my little daugh ter. Would you wish to leave me all alone in the world ?" The child made no reply. Iler mother went on. "It is an ungrate ful wish, Amy. God has placed you in this beautiful world, and surrounded yon with blessings. lie has given you eyes to see the light, and ears to hear the music thesis_ 11,1 around you . 4 . thore are many who can neither see nor hear. Ile has given you a mind to examine and endear or to understand his works; there are many who cannot do this. Ile has given you a heart to love him, and to lovoall the I kind friends who have done so 'much to make you happy ; and, because ho has not given you a form like others, you forget all his kindness, and murmur at his will. Does my little daughter expect to go to heaven with such feelings es these ?" The child raised her heal from her moth er's bosom, while a smile played over her face, still wet with recent tears, and ex claimed, "I shall not be deformed in heav en, mother ? I shall not he deformed in heaven, shall 1, mother ?" "No, my dear child ; there is no deform ity in heaveti. But, Amy, the soul may be deformed as well as the body. Sin pro duces the same effect upon the soul that disease does upon the body. We must be free from sin before we can enter heaven." Amy nestled more closely in her moth er's arms, as she said, "Were you thinking of my wicked wish, mother ? I de nut wi.-11 so now." "I hope you will never wish so again "I hope I never shall,•' Raid this child, earnestly. '•I am sorry ;I do not wish to do wrong, mother." "I hope not lily child. But there is ill° thing more, Amy, that 1 am afraid poi do not feel quite right about. Were you vexed at the girls when they laughed at v , iu ?" "No, muther," said Amy, looking up with childlike simplicity into her mother's face. "It made toe feel very badly, and I cried, but I was not vexed. If 1 had been you know, mother, I should not have cried." Mrs. Wilson could scarcely suppress a smile at the remark. Amy's anger was generally expri , ssed by a contemptuous "I am very glad if it did not make you angry, dear," she said, kissing her fondly as she spoke. "It was very wrong for Ann to speak as she did, and for the other : •ids to lan : * at her remarks ; but it was proliahly done thoughtlessly, lxithout any intention of injuring your kelings. Even if it was nor, you tiu;Jit t i for rive it. Can you do this, Amy "1/11, ves ; that is very easy. 1 hope, though, they will not do so main.," anti Amy's face grew very anxious at the thought. elmt dory "I presume they kill not, Amy. lint. see: hest itty w.ndoring wh% her little mistress is not ready to play with her. - - And Amy slid gently d.ovit from her moth er• s and was soon busily engaged with her frolicsome little Ind in the garden. lint the, hor( ssion p.dueed upoit her mind did nut pass away. At school, she mingled Jess freely and less joyously with her playmates than before ; ut home, she shrank timidly foul the make of strang,ers ; and more than mutt, during the remaining mold hs of summer, did slit steal with tearful eyes and qui% ering lips, to her mother's side, to say, "1)11, mother, that wicked wish has con i c again ; it will not stay away." At such limns her mother strove to soothe her, while her own heart thrilled with agony. She spoke to her of the kindness of her Heavenly Father, and endeavored to impress upon lo.r mind the duty of perfect resignation to his will ; and she had the satisfaction of feeling that her admonitions were not lost, and of seeing the poor child become gradually more and more reconciled to her lot. A bitter lot, indeed, it is fur the young and sensitive to endure—a lot of isolation, of solitude, of comparative estrangement front the pleas ant tics of social intercourse and social en joyment. It may be borne more easily in after life, when the mind is better qualified to rely upon itself, when the stores of learn ing and the gems of art are collected to en rich its treasury, and the first pencil of fancy portrays scenes to delight its vision. Yet, even then, when self-culture and self discipline have done much to fortify the mind, the head often sinks in despondency, weighed down by tho loneliness of its des tiny. And is it to bo wondered at, that the delicate spirit of childhood should sometimes bow beneath the burden which the strength of after years is scarcely ade quate to sustain ? Surely not. But Amy's heart did sink, at times, for many years ; and often did she whisper to herself the words of childish trust that brought such light to her spirit in its first dark hour of sorrow, "I shall not be deformed in heaven ; I shall not be deformed in heav en ?" Years passed away, and our gentle Amy rose from the little child to the quiet, thoughtful maiden. Her mother's fears had proved but too prophetic of the future. Her deformity had grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength. But it was evident to any one who looked up on her placid face that the spirit shared not the imperfections of its shrine—that the fragile, ungraeafid form was no index of the mind of its possessor. Amy's face was not beautiful—a 'stranger might not hawvelten called it comely ; and yet there wee a ohform about it that often detained GETTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, APRIL 23, 185 t the eye of the stranger. There was, when in repose, a peacefulness of expression that told of a spirit at rest ; and, when lighted up by pleasurable excitement, the sudden flash of the dark eye and the flush on the usually pallid chick made it seem almost beautiful. Her voice in conversation was low and musical ; and her songs were like the wild bird's melody, gushing forth, in gladness or in grief, unhidden, and almost unconsciously, from her heart. Led by her extreme sensitiveness to seclude her self almost entirely ftmit society, she had naturally sought in books companions for her solitude. She had read much and thought deeply. Communion with the had awakened the latent powers of her ow•n mind, and the book was sometimes laid aside for the pan. Timidly, and al most with the feeling of one who had com mitted au offence, her first brief attempts to clothe her thoughts in wools were laid before her mother. The mother approved and encouraged her ; and cheered by her . approval, Amy continued to note down, from time to time, the thoughts that peo pled her heart iu its hours of loneliness.—; Many who saw those records after the hand that traced them had passed away from earth, wondered at the genius that had dwelt, unnoticed and unknown, h 1 a teIICIIINIt so unworthy of its inmate. And ! so time glided on ; and Amy, happy in her mother's love, happy in her literary pursuits, happy in her own little circle of chosen, friends, scarcely heeded its flight. INt there came a change—a rainbow, fol lowed by a storm. "Mother, dear mother, 1 nm so happy!" Anil Amy laid her head, us she was wont. to do when a little child, upon her mother's bosom, and softly whispered the cause of her happiness. The light of love had dawned, like the morning of a new exist ence, upon her heart. the loved, and she knew that. she was beloved in return, by one whom the most beautiful might have been proud to claim as a friend. "How could he love ME, mother ?" said Amy; and her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. Amy Was not the only one who wonder ed that. Charles 31alcolm, the wealthy, the talented, the noble-hearted, should seek as his bride one not only beneath him in sta tion, but far, very far, front possessing those external advantages which the world prizes so highly. Happy A tny Iler dark eyeq grew more brilliant, and her pale cheek as,utnial a hue abe et like tint of health—a light and a rose-hue borrowed from the still,drip giadiless of 'the heart; "Mother, 4111 r ni,11.111 . r, I ant so happy,.. was uttered uptro than once during the Icw months of that blissful dream. Pour Amy '• A sad awttkon Mg came soon. Charles Malcolm had parents—proud and wealthy parents. lle had brothers and sisters, too, who heard of his thoiee, at first with incredulity, and afterwards ith undisguised contempt and anger; and Amy learned from others, what she Dever would have learned from him, that duty to his parents or love to her must be sac rificed. When they met again she request ed him to confirm or refute the statement she had heard. Slowly and reluctantly he gave the dreaded confirmation, adding an earnest request that she would not suffer herself to be in the least influenced by it. "We must not meet again, Charles,•' she paid "I know that I am not worthy to be your wife. It is strange that I should have dreamed of it, even fora mument.— The dream has been a happy one, but it is over now. We must part." Ills earnest appeals were made in vain. "If you could so fur forget your duty to your par ents," she said, "as to act in direct op position to their wishes in this matter, I could not cuter a family in which I l hould not meet a free and cordial welcome. For give me that I have been so forgetful of what was due to you and myself ; and let us part as friends, never to meet again till we meet in heaven." And then came the pleasant thought, "I shall not be deformed in heave❑ ;'' and her pale features were il lumined with a spiritual light, as she re linquished, calmly and without a murmur, her dearest earthly hope. Half au hour afterwards, Amy was weeping, in all the bitterness of uncon trolled sorrow, in her mother's arms.— "You have done right, my child," said that mother, in a low, faltering voice. "May God forgive those who have so cruelly cradled your young heart." Months passed away—long months—how much longer than those that had proceeded them! The time of falling leaves and drooping flowers had come, and our gentle Amy was, like them, fading—fading ! Day by day her wan cheek grow paler gr i nd her dark eye brighter; day by day her step grew more feeble and her sweet voice more faint and tremulous; and day by day too, her spirit grew stronger and purer—more meet to join the blest dwellers iuthat land to which she was hastening. "My life has been a very happy one, dear mother," she whispery' as her moth er sat beside her conch, the evening +dere she died. "I was very halipy when I was a little child—when yOu tined to hold mo in your arms, mid tell me of the love of "FEARLESS AND FREE." Jesus fur little children. And, mother, when the first dark day of my life came— you remember it mother—the day when I learned, fur the first time, the meaning of that sad word, deformed, I was very happy then, and often afterwards, in thinking of being free from deformity in another world. I was happy too, years after, with my books and my pen; and,with your love, worth snore than the whole world beside. And then came that bright dream, dear mother—l see now it is well that it was only a dream—and that made me hap py, happier than I ever was before. And after it passed away—When I knew that my life was passing slowly and gently—l was happy in the consciousness of having performed my duty. And I am happier than ever to-night, dear mother, with your hand iu mine, and your sweet face beside mine. I feel as if the peace of heaven were all around me." l t was around be; soon. "Is it sunset, mother ?" she inquired a few minutes after. "Not quite, Amy," was the reply. "Will you rake the curtain, mother? I should like to see the sun set once more." The curtain was raised, and the bright light of an autumnal sky poured into the apart ment. "How beautiful exclaimed the dying girl , tie she raisedher head from herpillow . and gazed for the last time on the richly tinted west. Slowly, as the sun sank beneath the verge of the horizon, those bright clouds faded one by one, and soon the evening star beamed forth from the deep blue sky. Amy's eye rested upon it for a moment, and then she said, with a smile, "I most rest now, mother. Perhaps I shall dream of that bright star." She lay in silence for a few minutes; then, suddenly opening her eyes, she whispered, "Mother, dear mother." lier mother bent over her. There was a sweet smile on her pale lips as she whispered, "Moth er; dear mother, I shall not be deformed in heaven ; I am going now." A moment more, and the pure spirit was free front its earthly shrine. They laid her in a sunny spot in the quiet vill ae:o church-yard, mid hor mother's hand tam , lit the 'dowers she had loved the best to duster mound her grace. That mother i= p f sludwring L.,side her deforms,: child. ['tin not Confined to :non The folluts'itie iliten•stiug tivrae,ra I , h is taken from a ‘vurk entitled -I'assois of A iti,arals :" *nail-bird? elinse emsh.oth-ef II) but iIS the coud u l Oi the, crane and the trumpeter is the most extraordinary.-- The latter stands on one leg, Imps about to Ow most vevenine twititierolid throws sum erSf•LS. AllllTleall9 Vail it tire mad bird, on account of these •ingubtrittes.— The crane ex pawls its wings, runs round in circles, leaps, and, throwing little stones end pieces of wood in the air, endeavors to catch them again. and pretends to avoid them, as afraid. Nater•hirds, such as ducks and geese, dive after each other. and clear the surface of the water, with out-stretched neck and flapping wings, throwing an abundant spray around.— Deer often engage in a s hmui battle, or a trial of -,irouittli.hy twisting their horns to gether and pushing for the 11135terv. All animals that pretend violence in their play. stop short of exercising it ; the dog takes the greatest precaution not to injure by,,his bite ; and the ourang outing. in wrestling with his keeper, pretends to throw and makes feint of biting him. Some en 'mats cairy out in their play the semblance 01 rateh ing theft prey; voting eats, for in stance, leap alter every small and moving object, even to the leaves strewed by the autumn wind ; they crouch and steal for ward, ready for the spring, the body (ink , eri lig. and the tail vibrating kith they bound on the moving leaf, and again spring forward to another. liengger as w some voting jaguars and cougars pitying', with round substances, like kittens. Young lambs collect together on the little hillocks and eminences in their pasture, racing sled sporting with each other in the most inters eating manner. Birds of the kind are the analogues of monkeys, full of mischief, play and mimicry. There is a story told of a magpie. that was seen busily employ ed in a garden, gathering pebbles, and with much solemnity, and a studied air, buried them in a hole about eighteen inch es deep, made to receive a post. After drop ping each stone, it cried .currack I" tri umphantly, and set off for another. On examining the spot, a poor toad was Immd in this hole, which the magpie was ston ing for his pmusement. Revolving Last-Hold er. Mr. Li. Q. Dewitt, of rcepatioek, M eter co., N. Y., has taken measures to se cure a patent for a very uselul improve ment for boot and shoemakers' use. It consists of a holder to retain hoots and shoeson lasts, while making. The hold er is an apparatus placed on a bench, in which the last, with the boot or shoe on it, is fixed so se to turn round, or change its position in any way for the operative to 'work on the boot most conveniently, and which will enable him to stand and work at the bench, and at the Fern° time afford him every facility, for operating with the shoe or foot that he now has by sewing or pegging it on his knee. This apparatus; to all the shoemakers who use it, will tend to promote health. and leng then out the years of life. It is a philanthropic inven. tionin every sense of the term. It will re lieve those shoemakers who suffer, from pain in the chest, and the holder is so fix ed that it can be let down. / did when the operator may be tired of standing. he can sit. down and work.—{Seientffie arneri* enn. The Responsibility. A young man in Virginia tiihd become! intemperate. lie was a man of great ea- I pacity, fascination and power, but be had. t a passion for brandy, which nothing enuhi control. Often in hie walks a friend re-! monstrated with him in vain: and %molten in turn he would urge this friend to take' only a social glass, but always in vain.—H On one occasion, the latter agreed toyietd to him, and as they went up to the bar to-1 gether, the bar-keeper said: "Gentlemen. what will you haver "Wino, sir," was the reply. The glasses were filled, and the two friend!, stood ready to pledge each other in renewed and eternal friendship, wheal he paused and said to his intemperate friend: ..Now if I drink this glass and become a drunkard, will you take the responsi bility 1" "Set down that glass." It was set down, and the two friends walked away without saying a word. Ah ! the• drunkard knows the awful consequence of a first glass. Even in his own madness for liquor. he is not willing to assume the responsibility of another's , becoming a drunkard.—Aurora. A Gouu Stuntr.—The following excel- gitr 2 fP " 41 frea ale" ithetstd 6110111111 le LIMO anocasiwisany. lent story is told of Mr Sheaf, a grocer na ihnintr ear ionabin , mown obey should Portsmouth, N. 11. : be pactirstOshr tiol, as/ ineoulanable ft appears that a man had purchased shelter peswitelini I. The food name wool of him, which had been weigh- shasslit at a.he sainied sewearkie, as chick ed and paid for, and Mr. Sheaf had gone I eats kw* a irliwittge oricasiassilihr. fowls to the desk to get change for note: petting to tarn his head while there, he Oaring starlit *we obey alwaysiaeaselay sa w in a gl ass, which swung so as to re- inagl Mier rattily mawasesai kigiong again :b.f.! the shop, a pima arm reach up and take ibefore the 19,1111 Mg sosaides, whoa eggs aril from the shelf a heavy white oak cheese. Awes. The abject Writhe harser ishoidd Instead of appearing suddenly, and rebsk- be M keep ii" &Irk dwough the intim man for his theft, as another woold„ I winter wiewths wiWto deems esseasasta a, thereby losing his custom forever. the !rood rice._ crafty old gentleman gave the thief his Bg porsmaing• this OWN. ehietesia will change as if nothing had- happened. and :generaily astriagi the whodeof the Win then, under the pretence of lifting the bag ter assinsies and pewee rafetahle. and a on his horse for him, took hold of it—he i wurail ananaher and be sane raitta. exclaimed— !Me shwa a lasgie wiewslet badly kept.— "Why, bless me, I-must have reckoned the weight wrong." rinewereadinia air Maim ' , Oh, no,' said the other, "you rnay be; sure , you have not, for I eouu.ed wids: The ldbeee dog' .0011 6011 7 you.' morteT ra, resairMarg ems far anitaary sae Well, well, we won't dispute the nett- 3 " Rd" k 1111 " 1 "." 1 Alar i icas em it " ter, it is An easily tried," said Mr. S. ?itin irr.a the bag into the scales again. -There; gag'ilnr" ttbe'tb be. said he, told you so—knew I was Pr""" 3 " -31311, IWO° erleer-beet out. right—made a mistake of nearly twenty' with their wasall mad yitirs wank. Take pounds ; however, if you don't waist the "4 114 1 11 11 " ,101.61. belee-; °lee bah whole you needn't have it—l'll take part ' i, 1003 Le 64 : 10401 "t"s 211 - 13 " 1 " 316 ° 14 "crealla of it out." tutor ; nun ma maser sa as 10 War ep an "Ni,i no !" said the other, staving thel''''' l ° llll " 3 '4 1 3111 "" "aim; Poor hands of Mr. S. on their way to the strings! rhe 8131211111 " mit"' ie ceelk e""elidielg the of die bait. "I guess I'll take the whole."' ; 11 tr* ; 2 ed Mel Ira Lee? SIM" aid good And this he did, paying for dishoste,ty fey tiro y IBMS liy receiving the skim-Intik cheese for che f 116Ceirlt 2..—Park die qt. abbe price of wool. / , preseraeti maritime wawa Or dih, Ind* dinar aura emits Allorourtrards.— Proemre. swan, and strain a ipassatity cheap aglow oar land. and roar. 'while warms. sae Ira. ewer the egga is the jar all rl , telr ace ram 14.11eirehr COmeirest When aartirria:satiate sits-rot ii iaar3, ilard Timets. +"lt is hard limes," says the young man as he puli•i a three cent cigar. or pays twAuity,frie cents fora canna ticket, hard Owes, and 1 can't allord to take a va- , per." eng plarrie.catil tpornetl &came. At ter the 4.The times are hard?' says the mar.: oltlrs zee takes evie- law emetic Seed sal be with a large “I have pix ehildrea , no ...a ....me du malrmg waßt to rlothe, feed anti pro tile a sel.ool for;— t'r laanlr "ch" lb"w""a li ru?"ee`_l ea ii't afford to have a newspaper."—; Runt No- Z.—radii !We egg's 11 ° be )v ; , r matt ! What a pity lie dots not • Pc'e"."l"l m . 11.41 " 1 " . " 5 ' 44 "rill die I ' 4 i My that three moo ths schooling itt a r 1116444 • 13 "•"" 1 rr% 4 "a Ira Leer bI 4 - year, with a weekly piper, is better for • eraokflcooll lieetestrAA mow isseardil- his children than six months' schooling Grisb Ilikestrarse.4. without the paper. ..The times are hard." says the piling. C. Limas. of W loduivast., D. C.. woman. as she gives twenty-five cents for has "'rein/dna es "alLang a reellaratinn a ribbon to wear about her neck --Mel ni n" fs Et " sa nd edrer e snlii aesispert the times are so bard I cannot subscribe for Peae-nt'ste'". thaw Walagria! ae illeanae. and your paper, though I like it, and should i "s h i es is asbees seruce e Clealiur al he glad to have it." Poor girl ! : fruit, watch. is insular prtaiSimedi, asd that Now, our friendly advice to these gust of the hesr, apaal.y. The rrelbrati , rn all others, is io consider a good paperas . us a all'ealaeali whack h applied Le the fill: one of the necessaries of mine 2S need- . 1 nee atat ° 4 .r re's - flee "w i le as nightly hil to the mind us raiment and fond tot i n `e n nusin el " sb " sse ellisell ' ese " 4 IL the hotly, and always to be received be- The et L ierea t e h s B ah lh3 ees t e.otßepublic lore amusement. ornament, or the gratin - - mrie"mas wftahe bag been ca nom of any artificial appetite or whim. "el& an'a seresess" " eire!" as being Suppose you try thu”Srsit" awhile- t ali dui "' E.." be Oar peach icrisentan as sad aia.thistie sagagetl is radii saran ether Ifinalac sithaeld ease atta bat ; and' if is spatrates as mnparaissakil ea sill. be earth ersemassils of &Mara so sir Sates, it 'tenet efainso.ll dna Imes le which is ap plied will Ise, is otasty years aessead of mere ly three eedstaras amputees.. Its'. Lelvtot. the =nea tens/err. as as evaessasal peach grower. and Maras asity afire sac) laves- - lag-sum and awe, ava l ilte esperata=na that he Int tare r schwa prepreranou which roar anise assoiremed ami lie espiettations-- : h ems be panissisall ei 31br- L. at $7 per Mt. of Xi *alms eliefinstrairoll we board of steam se sishisg weasel& alai easel beats at Denernicara. sr Sae eats. The lisibrarisks is like Elsie of applica. ties ::—Thse clank Sisson be issattered fuss ahem the snort elf eke wee dare to the upper oneits, stem is ram be applied with. assaults* prams dinar h, far the spars of abase dtaine imams. sad 11! doe not sick' h mar, he expeaadL swig orcsatitty should be isastie 'area the ran& sear these. It can be andkiallas all 1111M111126. the armaser betntr. Vulgarity. We would guard the young against eve ry word that is not perfectly proper.— Use no profane expressions—allude to tr/ sentence that would pot the blush to the most sensitive. Vou know not the ten dency of habitually using indecent and profane language. it may never be oblit erated from your hearts. When yot grow up you will find at your tongue's end some expressions which you world not use for any money. It was one vou learned when quite young. By b;ing careful you will save yourself a good deal of trouble, mortification and sorrow.— Good mgr have taken sick and become I delirious. In these moments they have used the most vile and indecent language! imaginable. When informed of it afterl. ?coloration to health, they had no idea of the pain they had given their friends. and stated they had learned and repeated these! expressions in childhood. and though years had passed since they had .spoken a bad word. the early impressions had been in delibly stamped upon the heart. Think of this ye who are tempted to use impmp er language, and never disgrace your selves. Important Caution to Boys. The Home Journal. in condemning the tobacco using propensity, so stropit of late among boys, mentions the following fats; ..A few weeks ago, a youth of siztesta arrived in this city to prosecute his sauces with a • iew to professional Ide. Itie from a distant State, and was to remain here for some years. A week or two at his arrival. he was seized with a par alysis in both legs. which advanced ap wards till newly the lower half of his body was benumbed and apparently file less. The most distinguished physicians in New York attended the ease, hit no co lic( being al orded. the unfortunate young man has been taken on his way hoese,asid there is but little hope of his money.-- The cause of his disease is mated the physician' to be tobacco cheiring--libeils it which ho early acquired. *ad ,perrisesd in to the dow ot hie snack." lama of Eleurea. Massy Ihresess heap a Inge groseeer of Lints sensing at lam paying hole or sto attention ss shent. resingesg *leg feed Sui iciest For Ann mil be Gored about the hone, se is Jelin j it.. The te nth, as a maineir el crane. is. that they era esipailbottlesseek- Ckihnssgais keep co.pute4y ins. skit* sae kept is a yani, until Sol. sod coma ter. sad during the seams whets they moll & crops mot pernasand so range sa large- Peen pause that shessealier. het honer tel stock is the assn. pesiisisde- NOW the shale sonertusi nrakise fowls posiksbie foes in s sat shed. WheUe a bases sionfies is Lein, the amenat al ion nag fowl nary lead is ese horn yard. Ste., es whotly inottlionment so .ate then rood Layers. Inn is esperinly the ease dutiag, the winner sesoollo and hews the neces sity of sandbag dieliciteiency- This can be Seise by in at= a asatall geasstity of mear- Thee odd how din dine should ahram. issgredi ofinirsigibineuna ins the slop barrel and etre sa the pipe, be thswins as :lie shistanas- They nil de ' visor in mai. Ey_ Wheat the goastity d Paaa";a. Arnii Misr: Sr es no disnia see aware dee weed densand irel •"issgett:'. a lance, swedes purely she derelieral inillaiga as asssorriebed hymn the ntbsianns ____Sr awning ar' rides -; and I. mem& was so reed, and sridusa any 0,- 40m sagnitieance,, s 'be amber periods Sr doe L bornage.. Bs* bow moo it foam be anybaned as egsiesisns so *.bassb en:" so be mond on Awe yesalie' • fins do fads P h loan is sins way. Chris tio#s3r ist &use INK o sbe aisles sad enessessi insegroisamodibentitkifing bps% sl laib Ws so mom is mese desig n:id as benissa, ad s bendiess -sod peigimarisse lobeassnmenside Wm. The ismissniss si kw* isms do Anemia. and &Owe" 10 . 1 Aill#lll4aw 6 sa i i ll 111111111110M--(Thark. DERN issolisse ow a nom wise is am hie beet- Sdp lima sea _ iii Goody as Ys lies% aii is jive Ilia§ drips awl immos. Thom Ole MOB bum OW kik we sdimii. Warp jilt pia bop el est tin esimilitt 9'wo.IIOIOLARS TER' ASidtlyt,, NUMBER 6, atones' SeputumM aid the mind's dinsipment. sad:lW* The down of little. tlioughia," ' Two Chstriadiik ■[ w. X. WO). Coate franr•myFirati SY Aetna . .,;.~.:;ii, The battle-down is nigh; Asa the *creaming trump trod sr. thning dram Are calling thee to tin i! Fight aa thy" tither °fought Fall as thy father fell; Thy taddi if , 61 0 11 4 *y *filmy" . jvinto6loofr so--(ormard and. (animal k Toll ye nee Senna. toll ; • Fling hiabthe dauthean'ellOaa'. • dad eittg,the hymn Far ti puled**. ' Beneath the /tarot night, . The wreath upon hichwid, The arose upou his braid. Let the prayer be eshL eintlo ll: alliirtelk So—take him to hie /Wt. ' Call ye my Mole. ay calk; The lord of know! lav And let him *met the Was PO, With a noble wog Go.eall hint by hia nem: No fitter hand atay entre , To light the flame of &soldier's he On the text' of a ooklioes 0044.. , ;.e . ,, Ile talked of &noire an* of tYltlY 's Of paiteions ir:d ofjohte, ,`f Of ertieping Ayes Of kisses mod ordains I He said. though won't Artsi - Ohr safebroArtt . befils•;.• Hat still the tidy shook her And swore by yes wortaey, 4' 71y Whole wee all that be tad lab: And all that be amid nay. He mid my neat, 'Whoa, hlht he Was slowly wsisdering ' 4 Veiled in a sailor &intand Through the e Wes like thisAlte WhOlPePiq USW Aaross_hat:yriung lips passed Yet. Oh! it was not half so 144, - It changed tot ⁢ Bat still ths lady AM*. Mir IMO; And swore by yea and nay," My Wads was all ail bre had mid,"• 7 Mid all that ha simadsayi , And then be set. granites% -1 ' Upon hid Invest bare - • ' '",. -And drew his rapier hue h. diaithe, Which 111141 lb. 1:4v,4101. '!. • And raid hie life bload'e purple My Senn./ then, ithoold If she hi krie4 ind - Would only wisp We MO. Bo dill the lady shook. het bead, And wore bryas azat any; t: My Molt was all that ha And all that he could say. Ceateubs of a Uttlaai r'ap.e ea Among ell our young readens, I wbnder if there be a y t y office - yeas with his tie - via - ars filled with sue* neva- . rimy of libekt" will - Olga' Of a little boy whostrinother-witimhughtglis clothes to make him ready for se/tea , I do not suppose any of the little. boys will ..own up.' if any of you' cart bout of such a portable muaeuda; butt some one will report the contents, if any pocket is found to excel in number and variety the following INVOICR One packet handkerchief One oak black. One "barlow knife." . Two ten-penny nails. • Two white pebbles. One red pebble. One hog's tusk. Two cotton strings, One leather string. One linen string, . One .waid end," and o small , priotiV of shoe leather. With the last two articles. Henry say. he is "going to make a pair ihoint for each al his little twin brothers. and a pair of boots for the postmaster who giveibim hit little newspaper r. Don't fail to report. little girli t to pint. uncle James. if %nu find a greawr tatiety in any of your lirother's pocket*. For. eit "Star isa4 Barmiti.! Enigmas. 1 am compound of twenty Wye. My 1 5 920 18 is a county in Kentucky. My 261b19 3 is town Jo Ohla. My 31951814 is a see in Etimpe. My 4 18.20 6is a mountain in Europe. My 511 17 14 is a ewurth in (adieu*. lly 45 9 13is • sea in Asia. My 7 12 86is a river in Asir. My 8149320 15 20 lea river in Itelettd. My 918 14 12 317 ii a brvinin Proem , , My 10 la b 1 9 3 is 4 county in Indians. My 11 5 9 13 is a river in Europe. My 12 36 5 9 ia►lake in Rooks. - My 13 4 15 20 its town in Spein. My 14 16 7 13 is a town in England. My 15 3 1310 is • gulf in Russia. ' • My 10 712 9is a lake in Runs* • • 'My 17 11 10 618 59is an Wind in Asia.. 155 12 3 18 15 20 is a town in N. Jove,. My 19 59314 is a county in Indiana. . „ My 20 4 11 17 2 is a river in N. okrohii. My whole was a brave Teaks offset. Manstor next week. known to A naysinst.-4 . Meek, ti Shoo siralagar. 3. °infonaut. 4. Bw4 Higlg.. )lu nar. 6. I t tinps. 7. Pigsty,. Ammer, to Atttsino. "G On. Whin') • —••Wanhinston. Ann in pow. 50,0 iu.nitift Snit in the hearts of his countly*4l—" pendent* new. nod Independence *WOO" ' Put the Mowing souk p4tether,•o es to make one Of timmost„nreptotsbie crom• peak' isfour community,: • • «The raise:UM: 4 Iron virzszi . 4m, LE. it EH 0 E,Q 00, 0 .r „ , ~--. 1! /I . .E . :'.•'''- ?.• '' '' Dff' 1 ,; . :4:..','1 A I • ' ' ' ' ' '' ' is - . ,•°*''' 44, '4-, .. , 41" . 1 , " .„'',.,:' .. -. . a: , ,1t i lii:+f;,,l.,•P:: :•1 *. ',' f; 4, 0,11,k:A 4-. . , l ''.'*.' . •.• • : i 4 .14, * : A , ; ', , .c ,, '• ,, i' ls ,` ":. . ..., . . ..... ~ ._ =ZEE
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers