btiit i ~1 'AI 1.1(f L 4 •BUEELER. ~,}t -• • ' -lt:1 1,10.1 • -•11 la. the, Old 4ria-, '7. 1 • 1 'ChM • lOM 411 y. fil • a., /gaucho. • me it,gaii t' tonles' With mieet affection greet mar— Familiar objects everywhere It'll9ge P l 4. °R o3 l,DiOnil meet we . apt linked again with kindred he arts, , ”1 1 . lh' &hind onnit 1.43V/teritheat,it.the =ilea tof lby and love In one harmonious union. 'Tie the hour for joy—so away with cue— •L.Poc,Prwhomittigtin in old armchair. , ? . rithiro*d . again7 Witire'wanderiag far, • - 1 'With WOW, bit itrangent . 4o me; Thetpliasabf, memorial* Of Home, • Like' come to cheer me; fPgt. kid asif, from Heaven, W, 1 14 Y.A.40 8007 4 11 'Onto& thsslery name How, - thantwlnttig ' - It; die iniirtoijoy--so 10,4 with care— 'For FM' HOrdetigolia In.the old arta•chair. . " rn,ttome agouti I sea them all 11 ' 1 Illy the heitilt.fiti blazing' brightly, mAild It brings ttr mory by.gone times, , • a 1.4 Aid the sweet , re.ntiions nightly; i T entßoaseragairkm.l ask no more -041,06.0f4aven has kindly bleat me ypio.soie T ful heart and happy Home, AnAria an old armchair to rest me. fr its'the hoar for joy—so away with care— Pisillibino-al am Home— in the old arm. ' t' The Child's Prayer. BY IleiDOtil AgAN ESQ. Into her chamber went ? A., Jittil maid, one day, And by a chair she kaelt, And thus began to pray: • ' . 4 1eitte, tny eyes T close— • ' fotm I Cali apt see: 1-7 IT (tau art near tne, Lord, • ~ I)pnty thee 'speak te me." A.,still small voice she heardwithin her soul, ulkluipla it, child ? I hear-thee—tell me all." "I pray thee, Lord," she said, „; ft , , • .Thet thou wilt condescend To ; turry,lit my heart, -• • , And ever.be my friend. he path or life is dark— , would not go astray ! ' 01 let Me have thy hand • To lead me in the way." not.--I will not leave thee, child, alone"— SheAhought she felt a soft hand press her own. f. • ' "They tell me, Lord, that all Tho livingpasb away-- . .. The aged soon tnustdia, And even children may. 0 L let my parents live, Till I a woman grow : For if they die, what can A little orphan dor "Fear not, in child—whatever ill may come, ru not forsake thee till bring thee home." ter Ettle , prayer was said, , And from her chamber, now, • 'She pass'd forth, with the light i Of heaven elm her brow. • "Mother,. I've seen the Lord— • His hand in mine I felt, And, 0 heanl him say, As by my chair I knelt, "Fear not, my child—whatever ill may come, i'll'uoeforsake thee till I bring thee home." Old Dog Tray. 'AL Charles R , a poor author. I,iviqg in the, ouiskirts of Paris, had ow big to him 11 debt of five hundred and twenty Lancs. which he never expected Se gel, go lung had it been due. and so , ' otten had he spplietLin vein for it. Itowevcr, finding himself entirely with inivetitolikl', a situation by no whole ou r „etoombn• among authors, he resolved to sty , the non-paying debtor once more, I,,l[V,hat were his amazement and delight, when a note OM , e hunthed francs and a oventy, franc pieie were placed in his bahlll. Itegardiag it as an•absolute prov.l litihde;'hti reii'olied to change the gold iiiit:e', and testifY'litto gratitude to heaven br4iVing Win altecon his way home. .'Placing the tioteln his pocket-book. he hilfilled his verb 'benevolent design, and no' egitir bpplied . in Vain to hint during hie bog Wept. . 1 '' 'Air: he ilreW near, twine, A wretched iittla,dog came to him, and besought his h,i c t a iitlaniiph,u) his starving conditiqn. At i to,y ,i)Ptor,litot hi, might have s sndelLy dm- in litway, ktis this evening . 11 111 ,heart,' w i e opiM,,an4 ,4 ie , concluded to take the T°ri brute ; ,,pith kin. TFue,, ht. wife tlateil,loo. out, he trusted to, his good for t* O mifitin her, heart as it had his. i If was unite . dirk Whan he' reached 211 , 4NY 1 1 ,4 1 .9. 1 11 11 . 1 14 the house wish hie l cril eloaa, to F lu heals. 1 4 il Tha l " i , lieli, , l or ed the, , lady, pre rierifi,to'thiva the .intrOsc out of the ~,, pool, ittle flog I have made b2!) 0 19,, t ix rg,t l O,Me with UM But jiaien, IfYtIPPY Ood TAriime:!! 2 . ,` . o ,o,ll4l,aied:the story, thogood, lady 1 ,ipphit4fistAlified l . and, the little dog was •ill s ki ' f or giM n • ~ ~ ~,: . b t, im,)imv:is, the Money, ears in. my I t iP,o, tPcP, i ttl'' -, concluded the husband, tfigi i tig ,it tit, head tn,hie ,pockst,to furnish, ,the vivaria bieetory. ttfu'lkffi c :oo ,ll° o l ~,w was there.,..,Tv I 'l 114 Rt ;, .-494,. 1 4 1 Wir jeika .11 w ' PCT. all (. 01 1 0'e , 1:, .‘;) ~, , , f 1 1 i. ~ to? agiun..coat tn. thO good. !Niro. inct 41 %I 1 itiOielui:i4iiiikigir,iihl;*sPeistioitt.. Bela. •. , 11 .. J !" ...... she: .:.: 1.• i ,;ii I VillPtPl,l.l3P4let "1e5.7, hi 4 te r •LA t t9MiPc. i ß Yll. that il tupid i p s rat TriY ° l , P ll 7 4 , lol 4 hia monev.", !,e fi dog,,woukd 'not move, antrcaw cil : Natio tbn,feet of b;s 'friend who, hate iloni7:01!1elik to ear, hi gh „i,; ng on tither arms, the ' angry lady, I ii ig hifgrtigd eject . I h I l e 113 M mouth % i v:: t l i, Armg pookM-hook, which the obscu-, , 110,Ftr,eventell:their seeing before,. 1 , d ftylen through a rent to the man's pa g io,„ ~i,,a . ; ifiro,, g i.at ! iful creature had "RA Aup and kept it safely till discov . owed. 41sentas vat :thief day'no morn honored :camakblikol,the lauthor's family ' than the Plkirtflketiti , eleek dog, who ever occupies IWithirmiagi corner of :the hearth.' M°r,o7oll often slit-, rAayonr,anger anti .gtiar, than. frm ory A thinp for, you an; angry aid viand, ~~Y~ivpf ~~.~ i~~ra~o. "Heigho I" - sighed !Minnie Arlin; "Vehat a plague' these , lovereire I pirtioularly if ono is not quite certain whether they 'ate enamored of ons'aself or one's fortune:4— I wish I krave.," ;And as, she said this she, glanced Ahpughtfully after the retreat. iog forget °fatal!, geqtlemanly looking man at that Diemen' passing out of the gate in front! of her father's ,mansion. Minnie' will - net at Wanty as heroin generally are, but she possessed a sunny;' gleeful temper,.a *aim heart and well old. cleated mind, which amply compensated for all deficiencies of form rid face, do thai among the truly discerning she found ma ny warm, friends. !, • • As her father Was very wealthy, many suitors kuqlt at the feet of Minnie,, who would, otherwise,• have, sought a .lovalier. bride. Rut to all she bad given kind but decided negative, until she met Walter Roby, die visitor, who had bid her adieu.— He was iYoung lawyer. who had recently come into' the village of Relmont, and who, possessing a handsome person, filial. natiog' conversational powers, bland and agreeable Manners, very soon won the confidence sad good will of the people , and partiaularly of the ladies. He did not at first, however, notice Min nie with much attention ; but in the course of a few weeks he seamed suddenly enamored and soon became very atten tive. Though Minnie was mach flattered by the' apparent devotion of the handsome lawyer, yet she had a large share of that rare but important artiele—oommon sense ; and as she suspected that this assiduity did not arise wholly from a love of her own plain self, she determined to prove her lover. He bad, this very day, made her the offer of his heart and hand, and begged herb in return ; but Minnie had given him this reply.: "Mr. Roby, jam not prepared to an. ewer you immediately. I shall require at least two weeks to reflect upon it. " Ho was somewhat daunted by this cool answer to his rather eloquent and ardent proposal, for be deemed his handsome per son irresistible. He urged for a shorter probation, but she would not relent, only telling him that if she decided before the time bad expired she would inform Minnie sat long in her room that night devising some means to ascertain his real sentiments. She thought if sho were on ly handsome, mho might rest assured, that he loved• heT, acd - then she could' return that love., She revolved many schemes, ' but none seemed plausible; and dually when the boll chimed twelve, she retired, resolving in the morning to impart. her trouble to her father. and implore his aid, fur she was motherless. Morning dawned, and Minnie arose un refreshed and pale. As the breakfast bell rung she greeted her father ut the foot of the staircase. "What ails my birdie this morning ?" he said, as he gave her his accustomed kiss. "I'll tell you after breakfast, papa," re plied Minnie. . Accordingly when the meal was finished she twined her arms within his, and no- compacted him to the parlor, where she unfolded to him her suspicions, plans and hopes. Minnie'■ father was not.surprised. Mr. Roby had appealed to him to sanction his intended proposal to Minnie ; and as Mr. Arlin thought him a worthy. talented young man, he told him that Minnie consented, be would." "Don't bo troubled, my daughter," said- Mr. Arlin, 'when she had, concluded. "It would be strange if we could not devise some means by which to ascertain wheth ler this young lawyer is in love with you. HO then unfolded hie plan, and when they. parted, Minnie's face bad resumed,some ' thing of its old , look of careless gaiety, The first week of Walter Reby's "ban ishment," as ,he told her ho should call it, I had not passed when it was rumored that I Minnie Arlin had entered the shop of Mrs. Read, the winner, as an apprentice, and "that when questioned she had replied she 'did not wish to be' a burden upon her ,father in his present circumstances."— There came also flying reports of the loss of property, which seemed in accordance with Minnie's conduct; and many people began to believe that Mr. 'Arlin would bo obliged to dispobe of the handsome man sion and fine farm. Minnie contin ued her daily tasks at the miliner's shop until the two weeks had' nearly expi red, Two days before- the ' time , expired she dispatched to her lover the following note : "Me. _Row! :--If you still entertain the sentiments "you pi-dossed at our last ioterVlOW, I will giro you my reply this ei'eOing; blittrin'Aitram." . . , Walter hid heard the 'rumors and had endeavored' ta iiidertain the truth.:, trembled fest' thefliere. true' for he felt could aot-inake Miuoie ;din, if pod., hie bride . Ale was TIRO undlittideit' vihat to do when be received Minnie's -'note; but. he 44=410401y sallied forth, datesmiti ed, if poiiible; to satisfy himself ,as . , to - the truilb of the rnaior. - Stepping Into An house of a physician, with wheal' he ' was upon terms of intimacy, he said; "after 'a few momenta' conversation, "What Is it, doctor, about this affair of Mr. Arlin's ? Is he - really so reduced that Minnie is obliged to become a shop girl ?" "Well," replied his friend, "I, thought there must he some mistake, but I heard the old gentleman say this morning, when some ono spoke of Minnie being so indus trious, that Minnie Arlin would not sae i her father reduced to poverty, and pot melte some effort to twist him. So I pre. 811030 there is some foundatiem for the re. ports., But, , my , dear fellow, Minnie ie a noble girl without bar property-.,although go,* not eo pretty a lamas porno young ,w9men?" , . . r 0 0k," replied Roby. `of, 14 / bop , you doug think r. 43 cornalicted there,-- 1:0E.T,ft.5:itifiet,:i,14,;,:.F , R1, , 1,Y4.Tig,:V:;pN . .11,J,.5 .. r.. , i:/:prIl 15, 1856, Lhave beim somewhat: friendly with ',Min+ We, it is true, but ,up:bittg serious,j .as. sure,you, No trouble about the beert,' l and he liiugh4 . ; ihou6" , added he; .4 itionld. Yegtit 'exceedingly to line 'thine reek with . reierseso" ~,‘ He •• 'MU after took his ; ' and rn-- turning to . his ofAce f eeated himself at ~his writing desk and wrote, sealed" and„das7, pitched 'die tollciwing note: MY' D4ll Milii1 4 4#14iNiL.:4)111111i time *hide half. elapsed "Ono& I "saw you but, my feelings have•'becionse st.mortihat changed—or rather I. have analysed them Moie'closely— , ind felt' 'ire OW merit' be happy together. Lime mow - 1 that; ; wig somewhat premature in ;my, ;proposals, (though I still entertain the Tamest. feel 7, age, of regard .and frjondship:foi you. Your cool reply '1 ed me to suppose 'that •your feelings were' htit much interested- in myself—and perhaps it were•beit,ferhoth,tberthe affair; should terminate here, 1 remain most respectfully your obedient' iervaut. WATAitt 11614.” • Minnie 'shed some; teen; When. she 're.; waved: this cool epistle ; for she had hoped, as maidens lometimes do, that her lover might "be tried in the - and not found wanting." But tirtfiliiig the team away, sho wont to her father; And tundra thenote to him saying,• wAh, father:you've lost the handsome, accomplished - young lawyer for a son•in-law. He does'nt think your homely, poor Minnie can wake him hgPOY." Leaving the room, she oanght by her straw hat, and went out to ramble in the woods for her favorite haunt, hoping the sweet influences of Nature might soothe and dolor her somewhat troubled spirits. The some .was lovely ;' for it was the newt hour, and the dreamy, golden light danced down between the interlacing boughs upon the soft, green moss, making dancing lights and shadows iu every greon wood path, The air 'Was soft and balmy; no sound broke . the stillness of the forest shades, save the highing, plaintive wind harps, or the , oecasional carol of a bird.— Yielding" to the lulling inilueutse of the scene, Minnie seated herself upon a fallen tree, and was woo lost is a revery. In her musings . she thought how pleasant it would be to be loved for one's self alone; and a voice seemed whispering in her oar with soft, thrilling tones, love's own ca, dunce, and dark e 3 os wore gazing into her own, with tender, loving look. She had wandered thus far. into love's fairy dream. land, oritirely.onegrapicos z When the cricking of a dry twig startled her, and she sprang up• in alarm ; but a pair of dark eyes looked into her own, and a familiar voice reassured her. ShoVaulig ingly greeted the intruder. saying. "Why, Herbert, how you startled me I" He smiled, and advancing to meet her, re plied : .4 am sorry I frightenedjyou—l did not think to find,you here , but you Are look ing pale—are you faint ?" and ho gazed at her with so much anzieussOlicitude that poor Minnie's equanimity was entirely overthrown, and sinking again upon her seat ' slid covered her face with her hands' and burst into tears. The feelings so long pent up, and the tears which had been gathering for several days, bad at last found vent. 1: Herbert Clayton had grown up with Minnie from childhood. He had always', loved. her, but had felt that a deep gulf separated him, a poor widow's son, from the only child of the wealthy Me: Arlin, and therefore he felt compelled to '<worship , from afar." He too had heard. the rumors of Mr. Arlin's losses, and.he supposed this was the cause of Miunie's agitatioti. He could hardly repress the hope, sweet and . feint though. it , was, that Minnie .might now be his ; but checking this feeling he seated himself by her aide to Comfort and cheer her if possible.. • Gradually she be.' came calm, and then she imparted to. him the story of Roby. He' was indignant at such basenese; and, led on by his feelings, told Minnie of his love and hopes.- His unselfish affection, , touched her heart.— Here was one who 'loved her rot' herself, sad was ivilling to' take her even if -poor. But the wound she had received' was too fresh to allow her to do aught but rise em barraitsed; and' though 'thanking 'Herbert with her eyes, to shake her head sadly.. - But that chance interview decided the fate of both, The more she thought or Herbert's disinterested'offer; theirnOre his character toss in her estimation. Mean time, she had g consented to recetve him as a friend. .He often: visited: her, and f radually esteem for him- ripened , into . One soft summer evening Herbert ven tured to urge his suit again, and this time Milani°, though as embarrassed as before, 'did not soy nay, but returned a blushing answer that filled his. heart with' They lingeied king among the foiast shades,'aud When they' returned,' Hiirbett sought Mr • • Itrlin, while Minnie ran up to her Wail like a frightened • diser: When Herbert had confessed his suit, ?on. koicliffs, -, 4r.0k1y -- ,iii #ll face, made :rib , film you w ish to make poor Minnie' Ade' you ;hi* ot•takiiigv dovlerlesi wife • - . 4 0h, yes." earnestly replied-. Herbert "I, should never ,havo told tay lovo.bad she • ••1. been as in • days gone by." • ~ , • The , old gentleman smiled a, peculiar smile, and said, !.'Yes, Her b ert, she is yours—you are worthy, of her;, but I am glad ior, your sake, ,and hers, auk I am not so poor that she will ,be a portionlesa bride. But you must let Minnie tell you the story. ,. Minnie did tell him the story, and Her bert was unspeakably delighted, at the idea that he had won. the hand of the heir- ess of M. Arlin's wealth; but Minnie laugingly told him that her poverty had loather oue lover and 'NOM another. ,Hetbet was. also a lawyer;. but being pout and: without influential .friends, be bad many times begti'neatly disontmaged bu 4 arw big bcfg4 t I OOOMO monger A • within hlm,more because he had PM the heart' and hind he bid ea long desired, than at the• prospect of a ',oaken of her -father's wealth.' __They were soon, afterward married; and Mr. Arlin's handsome mansion was thrown open to the crowd Of Minds who gathered to Witness Minnie's wedding. Before the day arrived, however, the story of Minnie's Ruse, 'bad become rnm ored forth in the village; , "and Roby finding himself and his selfish principles too much the topic of conversation, found it conven rut to leave Belmoit for some other field of labor. - • .1 - 1 Question to a Cora elea Felon by . - , . • the co t. Bane you anythin l to say why 'Shea a g. Court should , not proa# to pass senten c e , upon you k . . 4 "if the court please, : I have something . . to illy: which, elehoughAt may not untt gkte m y lento/me, Will _id least entitle the to thesympathY andeMiniseration of good I men, and may ,r not.hopp that ether young tiler, who arc following' in My footsteps, 1 will takewarnieg . irti4 similar calamity befalls theni. Few young men in early 1 litcibad shilitior'advaniapts to myeelf.— My . literaiV education xbas the best Iny M- I dulgent parents could eve me, in the place Where I was reared. ' Those parents are still living andniistraikist desire is, that they may never know t. 4 melancholy fate 1 °Nbeir boy, and that thy may not. I have, purposely concealed my residence and my l een! name, neither of ithich' is known in this city." ' '•l' (.Interrupted by 'l Court. Court. )—"We have noliine to listen t',"`a history of your life; you will iiinfliinpurself to the sub ject matter of aboiliaticitt. against you." Pritonee„—; , ll h'ad titled the indulgence of the Court for Ike ittutes; bat as th is is I denied me, 'I will rem k: that I have no I F fault to find with ,the lit, with the court and kith' the witnesses,' t the 'attorneys who have conducted ' the I iil. BUi, in aw 1, temiatiou of my' mtfral'Olt, I declare be fore pis court and beftiii Gild, my final judge, that I have not iti slightest amok !action of a single eirtittrestance in this whole transaction as dMailed by the wit nesses. Not* one man - lii the room looks upon snob a crime with 'more abhorrence than your prietmer. 'I 'knew that I bad been drinking freely with' my companion t; and was quite intoMolited, but of all the events testified to in timt court, my mein. my dues not retainenii: '1 suffer willing ly the penalty of the tiklated law, bat Ale - 4 3tect,. ; ot:paricat.ltimditlIiregatd'atiiiittn the tool Orthe dram:Alai who received his license at the hands of this court, to convert me , into a demon, and than hand ma over to the °Moen of the law for pun-' ishment. I am another victim of . the bloody ;raffia, and stand before an offended country not only as a condemned criminal; ' but as a witness to the deep guilt duly coup try. My countrymen permit a trade , to be carried on in -their midst; with a full 1 knowledge that snob as I will euevitably be ensnared and ruined. lam a sinner and have bean sinned against. Before' God I am not as guilty as the State Which swim my punishment." ' The judge remarked that "drunkenness was no 'excuse, bur ah aggravation of the crime—indeed drunkenness itself is ir crime."' At the moment when the judge was reiterating`the old foolish doctrine of the book, he was so inebriated that ho could • hardly keep his seat. While his honor did not see the force' of the' scathing 1 remarks of the accused, all the bystanders'l felt .their truth, end more than a score of witnesses were converted to the Prohibito ry Law; and went away feeling that guilt,' fearful wills rested upon, every individual who did not demand the extirpation of the liquor traffic!. . ' ' ' ' Reader, bow far are goat implicated in the charge made by this abble but unfor tunate young Mai; -noir paying the pen; alty of the violated law high° penitentiary. We ought all. if( tremble:in view of the fact, that this and thousands of similar ea ses will pan under the review of a Judge who is impartial and just. • • A BLIND / Hisx.m.ktt......One of the pa. Eters titates that Win., H. Prescott, the American historian. who rsaides at Groton, Maas, log ono eye Then at college, by a blow from a crust thrown by a boy. The sight of the oth4r :Was so ,weakened by sympathy, that he cannot use it. He ac. oordingly utes the:appal:atm, itiventad for the blitid--a, st9llo, with tracing paper, and, a airing toguik the hand. He is thus able to, sit up at night .and write, without lighting .a candle. ..in this way his great hiatorioal labors have been perfected. 1835, there wereeaventy•three bittrekt°u3ilip or more 1 1 2 11 one a week. with en; average lose of one thousand Men killed Ip,eash,' excluding those who have filleb 14,disiiae or Skirmishes, those who died in the hospital or the ambulance, the" wounded . and illsabled • the maimed, missing and prisoners. As ihe ['timber left dead upon the field is usually only about one.fourth itle entire loss in battle, the number swept out of existence must' hairs been 300,000—the bloodiest year since that iu which the battle of Waterloo occurred. Reading maketh a full man ; conference a ready man, and writing an exact matt ; and, therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he cou fer little, ho had,uecd have a present wit; arid if he read little, ho had need have much cunning, to eoem to know what he doth riot.—Lord Old Mr. Sing!wick ntjetifietra party, by remarking that women were facts. When pressed to explain his meaning, be said : "Facts are stubborn things. Wounds in cattle are qbiakly cured by 'milling several flume a day with the mix. lure of the yolk of ow and spirit, of Hu. panting, ' +: Mn't. Refine EcOnotny. "What is that, my dear'?" asked ' Mr. Reed, mildly, looking up from his paper. "I was exclaiming at this extravaganes of my sex, " replied the pretty looking woman, wose blue eyes had not recover ed their natural dimensions. "Heartily, my dear, for hear this.— There are id New York and -Brooklyn not loss than five thousand ladies whose drew, bill could not average annually less than two thousand dollars each, or ten millions for all." • "Prodigious I" muttered the merchant, "but doubtless true." "There are five thousand more " ,whose dress expenses will average one thousand dollars each;or five millions of dollars for the whole; and five millions of dollars more would not cover the dress expeatesof those whose bills average every year from two hundred to five hundred dollars.— Thus at a low - estimate, the annual cost of dressing our fashionable ladies is twenty millions of dollars. Perhaps we should not exceed the truth if we estimate the an. nual cost of dressing and jewelling the la dies of New York and its vicinity at front thirty to pity millions of dollars? "Whnitalronder." exclaimed the goodly indignent',ltttle woman, "that poverty and suffering; are so rife in that city ? only think, George I twenty millions of dollars, to say the least, wasted: in finery and ex. travagando ; worse than wasted.' • •,, "Yes," resumed her husband, "for the bulk of the money is exchanged for foreign fabrics and goes out of the country to pamper the miserable toadies of ,the old world—that's what makes rue angry think of. elf the money was spent among; our own producers, manufacturers , and mechanics, the shame would not' best) 1 1 burning; bat no, must bear.tbe stamp of l import:id goods, or our woulA not' lonk at ,the article I saw to.dity some silk, which I'll be -bound some French ar• istearat bad manufactured for his wiudows. but failing to give satisfaction, it was sent over,tn the green Youke es. They wouldn't ktio*if course not—nor care,so lenges the 'obsequious ehopmen declard that it is of"Parisinanufacture." Arid so we have walkingeOrtains, witl all the fixtures, like aa'not, and Vein bad tags too,--oh to meet. in our "tfashiona le •streets dresses with figures - larger than, the whole peltorni so that it takes two women to show off ono gIAVII . , to advantage; it is laughable—but ••• • • .!•Ikall,ibow.your eyes twinkle r !It ltiLrk;user occurred-to zue to tUtkitOW litetlOUlo6llll7 tfiClSi7s4y - tor; . sear:' . Oh ! bui ruk not fashionable, and you are not rich." , "No matter for that ; a bottet dresied woman than yourself doesn't walk , the streets . of. Boston. Now, for the very teas on that I am not rich, I. want to , know , how yOu do it."' "That is eatlyenough told, on:a little re. Hoodoo," replied Mrs. Heed, blushing, nev ertheless. "You praised my now hat very highly." "Never saw you look so sweetly in my life ; wanted to kiss you right on the 'spot. Lee, the geotleman who was with me, d& dared that he hadn't mekso handsome and well dreseed a lady since he had been in Boater'. There's for yon ; and ho is a NoW Yorker: Btit come,' what did you give for that hat ; pinch in bread and butter, oh ?" and he pinched his wilu's rosy cheek. . 4 No, indeed," she merily replied"; you know last week I 'asked you for three del lars ; well; that Was what the bortuot cost, '"Ah, Minnie, I'm not so greou at that —a laily'a bonnet three dollara--a' bonnet ike that" "But I made it, myself, for I have long been eimOdent that a milliner's time is worth to her a dollar a minute, nodthat we , pay' more for that than shape, materials and all. So ',I have made mrbannots fop the past two Bensons; this very frame wore velvet last winter.- • I was curious to gets milliner's judgment, upon it, and ye,q terday asked Miss to chow we some ten,dollar hate. She did so—and I would not eichange mine for auy of them. Hal ha I Why my black silk that !doh' s° fresh none of my friends know but I have bought a new one. I turned and altered and trimmed it handsomely, and yet the , trimmings cost only. one dollar and fifty cent.; you see there's a great deal in bite.'• she added blushingly. "Oh yes,.3lrs. Solf-Ounceit ; then we may put the silk dress at one dollar fifty. Ah tbere's,the new ona--I forgot that."- , ~ It cost twelve dollarr,i for I made it a point to got good rich rilk, that it may bear turning or a change of pattern. But . I made it every gaols myself, with only a little help from biater Annie." "But tho seams e treas, I saw her." "Oh I she was sewing up eh. ootton for the family. lal ways make it a paint to em ploy some one of my friends for that. and pay liberally. Shall I tell you what tt OWL?" ~ No, for we were upon dress ; now gloves, shoes, laces,Sre. Come, all the se crate of your marvellous extravagance, ma. dam !" and Mr. Reed flourished Dia pencil pompously. "Gloves, four dollars ilea," said bie wife, "put that at four dollars, tor I get the very best, from motives of economy; shoes, say eight dollar'', though I am not quite certain that it is u much ; laces, per haps five dollars, having a good assortment and taking care of them. Uy dressing gowns are of French oalioo, they are yet handsome after three years' wear; but to be more explicit, I have kopt an account of everything in that lino which I have bought, for the last ten menthe, and my outside dress, winter and all, has not ex ceeded seventy-five dollen." Mr. Reed looked at his wife with elult ing glances. "And yet," he exclaimed, "how well, how very well. in how thoroughly pure Ind elegant taste you have always appear. my admirable.wire. It h owing to your geonomy, that I escaped Orsetege4 during the last terrible year, and I have more to tell .You. Jenkins, vein has just got out by a broken back, thanked we yes terday for my kindness to him during his illness, and called down blessings oil your head fur the solicitude you had displayed towards iris family. It was you. then, who sent them •bread mid wood: and warm clothes for the children ; It was you, who got Billy a good place, and pro valid a good borne fnryour poor washer woman; it was you who fitted -out the little lame girl With decent clothes, and ' sent her to school ; it was you who,. dor ing the season of distress, went like a ministering angel 'to the haunts of the poor, preferring to spend my allowance in doing good to the need y, rather than display your own beautiful person in the habiliments of fashioo. God's blessing on you, my noble wife--I am proud of you f have found a treasure of which not only I, but any country. should be proud. For. should calamity come, this lair cheek should never blush at the thought, was my heartless extravagance that aided in the overthrow of my native lend." God's blessing on you—He does bless you daily ; and when•the butterflies, ,%Thq think more of a yard of brocade than ligltian menl,,stand before the judgment seat'of the great God, how little in coin parison 'with such sot you. 'my wife, will iieh.frivolous, heartless beings appear.-- ?ley, this is. just praiee, though you have done your good works silently in secret, and not for human approbatiou '—anti im parting a - kiAs upon-her forehead, the hap• py. husband, returned to his counting •• , , ''."Raltdor. in lair oircumitanoot, in good itanding •in iht world and -are you a Mrs. Rood: „The following ie one of the moat beautiful ponge ofpne of the inoet beautiful of poete, Per. oy ilyeaehe Shelley, 'To the Queen of my . Heart. Shall we roam, my love, To the . twilight . grove,' . When the moon Is rising bright; ' Oh, whisper there, _ In the cool night air, What I dare not in broad daylight I • • I'll toll theea part Of the thooghtethat start _ • ' To being when alba art nigh ; , And.thy, baifuty more bright Than the stare soft light • Shall seem as a weft riatii the sky. 'When ' the pale moonbeam On tower and stream Shada a flood of silyar, Haw love to, gaze Ai the cold any strays O'er thy face, my heart's throned queen ' Wilt thosirotim with me To the restless sea, : • And linger upon the And list' to the flow Of the wages below, liow they toss, and roar • T'. Those hoilingwaves • ', And the stoem that raves At night 'o'er their foaming crest, Resemble 'the strife ~That, front earliest life, The passions have waged in my bniast. Oh, come then and rove To the sea or the grove,. When the moon ui rising bright ; And whisper there . • , In the cool night air What I dare not in broad daylight. now to get early IPotatoco. ' w the Mercer ir quite early. but thisre arsvOther• varietietes least two weeks' be. fore it iu ripening, and nearly equal in quality. If possjble„get these for the ex pertinent. If you .have 'a hot ,bed, split thttlpiitatorte lengthwite, and lay them up• onihe bed in tows' as thick as; you can plane them, and covet them with about two !oche§ of mould; In three weeks they; will be well up, aunt furnished roots several 'inches in length.- They , can be set out early in April as you would set out •a cottage plant. They shooki be taken up carefully from the hotbed, and the plants separated by hand There will' nut he a full yield by this method. but therwill mature about three weeks before the. same variety planted in the opsn ground. • If you have no, hot bed, and will not take ; trouble, to make one, yeti - tan put a barrel or ,two of potatoes by the kitchen fire or in any warm place about the first of Illareh. The eves will inf.. inediately begin to start, and roots will soon form. , If they are moistened with a little water occasionally, the preeess will be haidened. As soon as the ground is' sufficiently open, take them carefully from the barrel and plant them.. They should not be left mall the roots are mat. Led - together, least they be broken. This will hasten the riposting of potatoes ml t eral days. A piece of ground, with a slope to the eolith or southeast, is most desirable tor early strops. 'rids slope should be . trenched two spits deep at least, cod, well , Manured with horse dung, fresh from the stable. The trenching will carry of all superfluous water from the surface, and thus increase the heat of the soil. The manure in i ,ts fermentation will still fur ther rai-e the temperature. and push for ward the process of vegetation. Thus thereare four oolute4 of accelerated growth to the plant—the sprouting, the more di.i rem rays of the suit, the drainage caused I by trenching, and the, extra heat of the manure. "rhe potatoes shauld have Ire. quent hoeing until a month before dig ging. They will not be quite so early as those transplanted from the hot bed, bqt will reach liaturity soon enough to pay for extra labor. If you wish for early potatoes, make your preparations n0w;..... 4griculturist. The best thing to give your enemy is forgiveness ; to your opponent, tolerance; to a friend, your heart ; to your child, a, good example; to a father, deference ; to your matter, Conduot that will Make her proud of yoo ; to yourself, respect; Will Mon, oberitp • , •g• , TWO DOIJARS VIA ,•1 INUMSEL4, In7= • A oorrespon don t of the •Pmsbyteriim ger-, aid,. writing from lowa, speaks as tblbwltof a now sect, ap' offshoot frost Mori of called Meenonites ; • "Of this Seat this aocount has been recei ved :. As might , have been eipeattult}bers were many ambitious, Mortoons. disapPint, ed when tho notorious speundrel, Arighent Young, more shrewd than the rest, beeame Joe Smith's successor. Among others wee a mon filmed Thomson, who relbied to go to Salt Lake,and drew off rt section of. fojoint stookestablished themselves as a atook company, ija lowa county, lowa. clf' the . company Thomson ia, President;, and their business transactions• are done in his name. Thomson has revived the doctrine of the transmigration of souls—pays 'he ,111 himself now in Ll 4 seventh state, ell of which ho remembers. Ho Maims, to, ha tho oPO' cial messenger of illeenah, , the autheitised expounder of the Divine will.. This,,Meep, eh, (I may not apoll'tbe name aright,),les been from the beginning, and is osotad,to bp manifested among men, end:Pr pe olobly will prove to be identical , with, the said Thomson. He teaches that new , habitations are prepared for the righteous when: they die, and Meenab or Menenah, is to make:it known when souls aro in ueed of. a new bib, itation, (body.) You see that,somethipg equally vile with the spiritual wife ojelont of Salt Lake may readily grow out of this. doctrine of transmigration." Reformation of Indiana 1i Texas The Austin State Ossetia of the. 29th ultimo bus tho following ertiple ebeet the Indiana on the Reserve ; giTho , able and efficient agent,•Major Noighbore, paid as a visit the past week, and we learn from him 00 the Indiana on be Reserve are making important end Val. neble improvements. Some one hundred and fifty houses hafer been ereotedi and the Indiana are putting in about eight hundred acres of corn. If they have a fair tulip there will be an abundance made to supply the wants of the Reserve. For the first time the Indians of' Texas are taking held of farming with a determination to. depend entirely upon it for their support.. They are.putting their hands to , the plough-han. dle-themselves, and thoughlt , requires two to perform the operatlon—ono to lead the horses and the other to plough—etill 'they have made a beginning, and will soon• he. come expert at it.. Even the Southern Comanches have taken held of the bee and are wielding it patientlY, The excellent moral eifeots of Oh Mori,. meta are witnessed in the &mace of theft and pillage on the part of the Indians.' 'The settlers make no complaints of the 10811 of horses or cattle, and some time ago, whet; Skillman waa killed by the Northern Cam. imams, the Indians on the Reserve, to the number of a hundred, immediately volun. teered their services to pursue the .murder. ors and arrest them. Some dozen were so. cepted, and. they overtook the hostile In. dittos. A battle ensued, and the result was that they. utterly routed the enemy- and brought back eight scalps. ,''There are some twelve or fifteen-hundred Indians on the Reserve, and many tribes in other States would willingly joie' than if they. bad the .privilege but it is not our policy to increase the Indians of Texase-.. We do much in affording those with us home and giving them support. *thlaj. Neighbors deserves groat credit for his labors, and we should like to sae his ter. vices retained. We think it important to the security of the State." Turkital Independence. • It seems that Turkey is by, no ttleane , llo acquiescent as it wee supposed she might he, in, settling up tho, affairs of tho With, her allies of England and France, &o The intelligence that the Porte had refused to tia notiou in some particulars the proceedings of the Paris. Conference is now confirmed, The Council of Constlntinople, it is neve known, has directed All Pasha not' to ooe. sent to the insertion of the Sultan's Welk, °rep in favor of the Christians, foreignerei So., among the articled of peacei as such A cession would bind the Porto to a eertaid form of administiation in its own indopeu. 'dent territories. The plenipotentiary wits also formally ordered to oppose any arrange. meat about the Principalities which should be in any way prejudicial to the ,sovereige, rights of the Porte in those previnoei:' The Beyerds, clergy and people of Moldavia. have also protested to their ,Hosptidae„ Prince Ghika, against the proceedings of the atubusadors at the Porte. They es, press a wish to see the Principalities mil* into one nation, tut the. London Times still holds that the institutions which ve , , , give the Rayah subjects of the Sultan, pew rights uud a now career must be the oaYe of the Western Powers for many years tricetne, and says it will be some time before Eny. lawl and France will be able to rdlas their hold upo Turkey. • These provinces are the most' eniaised and covetod part of the Turkish etppire They are even now occupied by foreign' ar. mien. They have been for several genera, dons under the influence, stud it 101 under' the recoguiats.l proteotitio,:of Ruaalai an now it is feared that they but eepape the' , crushing enibreeea of the bear to fallloto the no lose merciless talons'of the vultitte, ,1 ;CPA young white girl, named Olive Oatwau, aged 16 year', whom father intl. mother, together with four of her sistim and brothers, from lowa, bad been maim— ered in 1861, while en route to California,: 'was'reseued from the Nobere Indiana slgor being four years in captivity. She heir W. most entirely forgotten her native toigtie, being only able to speak two or Om 'Wor4c, Being asked in the Indian language he name, she replied "Olive OattnitO ;" Iv' cooed on the chin' end bears the mob of bard slavery. She was resemid Ibmnik the efforts of the U. 8, <1,1111490111 MI Bud TumW, 'w4o anfoar t t9l, ,kittfh 1. younger ;iota, squired ei thk ~ ,x+. died sd bix ao.A. Fp . r; 4;-; f.. t,ti f. EMEEZI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers