BY D. A. BUEHLER.
VOLUME XXVII..
A BACHELORS BUTTON.
A celebrated wit once said he had found
nut a patent "slip button," eo that when a
bore laid hold of him, and was detaining
lint with a lonistery, he had only to slip
the button, leaving it in the bore's fingers,
and made-hit escape. The contrivance
was an ingenius and valuable one, and had
the inventor, as he threatened, taken out a
patent, many would doubtless have adopt
ed the useful article.
There are occasions, however, when a
slip button is more necessary than even in
the case above referred to ; and in Metre
tion of my meaning, allow me to recite the
following adventure :
Some years ago, when I was a single
man, and dreaming (as -tingle men do) of
double bliss some day destined to arrive, I
went to a concert at the Town Hall
Music is, poetically and proverbially, "the
food of love," and in my sentimental state
I consumed a good deal of the tender pas
sion in hand, whenever I taw an eligible
opportunity of investing it. Well, to re
turn. to the concert ; it was crowded to
excess, and the rush, on leaving, to reach
flys and carriages, was very great. I wore
on that memorable night, it blue coat with
brass-buttons, and I flattered myself that
there were worse looking men in the room.
I tell you candidly, I admired myself, and
next to myself, the other party I was meet
struck with, was a floe girl, with dark eyes
and black hair, who sat with some frieude
sk few fume distant. I hoped she noticed
me and my blue coat, with brass buttons.
1 looked at her often enough to attract her
attention to both ;and beingaa my friends
would say, in rather a spooney state, work
ed myself into a towering passion— of love.
But, bow was Ito come at the object of
my admiration, for I was as diffident as
devoted—"as eby as I was vain," as at
over candid friend once said.
4 .11nd save the Queen," which condo
ded the concert, surprised me, as unpre
pared as on my first glance to "improve
the occasion," and the company were
alinaiing out, while I stood mutely piing
after the object of my love -at first eight.
She and her party eddied a while by the
inner door of the concert room, and were
then drawn out into the retiring current.
and lost to sight.
followed quickly after, lest I should
lose forever all opportunity of identifying
my idol ; but alai,
the lights in the outer
corridor were so few and far between, that
"on glimpse of my star could I got." I
pushed and elbowed fiercely through the
crowd, with , a view of getting to the outer
door before my fair one's party had omer•
god, and thus gaining once more a sight of
my meeting.
"Hang it 1" I muttered, impatiently, as
I felt a tug at my coat skirt, and was in
stantly conscious of one of my hind but
tons having hitched to some lady's dress.
My progress was suddenly arrosted.—
"Hew provoking," thought I, as I was
brought to a stand, for I could not push
on without losing a button or tearing a
dross t "bow provoking the modern fash
ions ; a lady now has as many loops, as
many tentacles about her.apparel as a sea
anemone." It was with some irritation I
stOoppod to undo the button, but my hurry
made the task more difficult, and inetend
of undoing, I only bungled and more twis
ted the loop around the button.
"Please to let mo try," said the lady
herself, as I bungled over the bushiest; ;
she unloved her hand—it was a sweet
white hand ; so I looked at her lace.—
Stars and gaiters 1 but it wu the very fair
ono, black hair and dark eyes, I was in
pursuit of. As she stooped over the en
tangled button, a slight flush tinted her
cheek.. Oh, it was delicious. I hoped
she never would undo the loop ; and, in
deed she could not, for her fingers were
twitching nervously, and my heart was
beating audibly. I tried to help her ; our
fingers met—
" Please make way there," shouted some
gruff voice behind. ilre were blocking
up the passage; was there ever such an
unlucky spot for so lucky an entanglement?
"You hinder the people from going out.
Annie," exclaimed one of her companions
with soma asperity; "plague upon the tire
some loop, break it ;" and, suiting the act- ,
Lion to the word, the speaker leaned for. I
ward, caught the sleeve of her beautiful
friend's dress in one hand, and my coat- I
tail in the other, and giving a quick and
decided tug, severed us. The crowd be
hind bore on ' and we were separated; not,
however, before I gave my "star" a look
, which I intended to speak volumes. I
thought she did not seem uneenscioes of
my 'meaning—our eyes met, I know, and
this was the only consolation left me, for I
immediately a ft erwards I lost her and her
party, to view in the darkness outside. a
Cruel fate I That night I hardly olosed
my eyes, thinking of my "bright particu
lar star," and what means I should em
ploy to find her out. I koow little of the
town, which was a large one, and to ex
peet to learn the name of my fair one by a
mere description, was hopeless; theft
doubtless must be a great many with dark
.eyes and black hair within the "bills of
'mortality,' there, as elsewhere. After
r:breakfast next'day, I sallied forth from
my' hotel, and walked the town in hope
-of seeing her, but no trace of the lovely
one could I find, though I started off in
... pursuit of many a "similar figure" in the
:tarots only to discover on my overtaking
euh object of my pursuit, that she was
not the one I longed to see.
My love fit grew more and more violent
in the course of the day'; but tired out at
length with my search, I returned to the
hotel, and took out my dress coot from my
portmanteau to feed my flame even with
the contemplation of the inanimate button
that had detained the , black-eyed divinity'
so long. It was with no little delight I
now discovered what did not before catch
my eye ; a fragment of the silk !bop of
her dress still adhered to the button, twis
ted round the shank. I pressed it to my
lips; it was lilac in color-and stooped to
011/180 tangle it from the bit dime as gent-
ly as though it were a tress of my loved
one's hair, when something clinked in the
skirt pocket. I supposed I had left some
money there, for in my perturbation and
excitement I omitted to search the coat on
taking it off the night before. I thrust
my hand into the pocket. Gracious me I
What did I behold, what did I take out—
a gold chain bracelet I
You could have "brained me with my
lady's fan." I saw at a glance how mat
ters stood—in the excitement and flurry
- of undoing the loop from my button, the
lady had undone the clasp of her own
bracelet, 'which had not unnaturally fell
into the coat skirt with which she was en
gaged, and, doubtless, on missing it, in
stead of regarding me in • romantic light,
she put it down that I was one of the swell
mob, and had purposely entangled myself
in her dress to rob her of her jewelry.
Here was an antic heroin position to
find oneself in I When I wished to be con
sidered the most devoted of knights, to be
remembered only as the most expert of
pickpockets I Was ever an honest lover
in such a plight ; and to make it worse, I
could n ot
r nee how I was to escape from
this inevitable dilemma. I must go down
to the grave, remembered only in that dear
one's mind as the nefarious purloiner of
her bracelet. To find her out was imposi -
hie ; bus a bright idea struck me, as my
eye lighted on a newspaper, lying on the
coffee-room table. I rang the bell, and
inquired of the waiter when the loosl pa
per was published. "To-morrow, sir," he'
answered. I sat down and wrote an ad
vertisement ; it was in the following words:
"If the lady, - Whose dress got entangled in
a gentleman's coat bottom, in leaving the con
cert last Wednesday, will call at or send to
the Arch's Head Hotel, she will hear of some
thing to her advantage."
There, I thought, as I gave the adver•
tisament to the waiter, and five shillings to
pay for its insertion in the Sentinel—there,
if that will not give me a clue to escape
from a very unpleasant dilemma, and at
the same time to know who my enchanter
is, the fetes must indeed be very unpropi•
pious.
My plane being thus so far adopted I
ordered dinner, and waited patiently, or
rather impatiently, the appearance of the
newspaper next Morning. It was brought
up to my room damp from the press, and
then I read in all the glory of large type,
my interesting announcement. But, my
mars I with what an advertisement was it
followed, in the very same coluinn. I on
ly-.wonder my hair did not stand on end,
as I read as follows :
".f.2 REWA nn."
"Lost, or stolen, on the night of the concert
at the Town Hall, a Gold Chain Bracelet. It
is thought to have been taken from the lady's
arm by a pickpocket, of gentlemanly appear
ance, who wore a blue coat with brass buttons,
and kept near the lady on her leaving the hall.
"Any one giving such infotmation as will
lead to the recovery of the bracelet, or the cap
ture of the thief, (if it was stolen,) will receive
the above reward, on applying to 7 Cambridge
Parade."
Here was a pretty plight—to be adver
tised in the publio papers as a pickpocket,
when my only crime was like Othello's,
that of
"Loving not wisely, but too well."
My determination, however, was quick
ly adopted. I went up stairs, pot on the
very identical delinquent blue coat, so
accurately described, and, taking the paper ,
in my band, proceeded to "7 Cambridge
Parade."
I knocked at the door, and asked the
servant, who inswered„the name of the
family. Having heard it, I said—"ls
Miss A. in r
"Yes, sir," replied the servant woman
"who shall I say wants her 7"
"Tell her," I replied, "that the pick
pocket with a gentlemanly address, and
blue coat with brass buttons, who stole
ber bracelet, is hero and wishes to return
it to her."
The woman stared at me u though
were maci, but on repeating my request to
her, she Arleta aniltalivered my message.
Soon there came out, not my fair one,
With all that's beat of dark and bright,
Meeting in aspect and in eyes,
but a stalwart brother.
"That," I said, handing him the brace.
let, "is Miss A.'s property ; and though,as
you perceive, I wear a blue coat, with brass
buttons, and am flattered to think my
manners are not ungentlemanly, r am
bound in candor to say lam not a pick
pocket."
"Then, sir, you shall have the reward,"
I said the brother, taking out hicpurse.
"No," I replied, "for strange as it may
appear, though I am no pickpocket, I stole
tho lady's bracelet."
. The man looked , puzzled; but when I
told the truth and pointed to my advertise
ment in the same paper, as a proof I did
not want to walk off with the property, he
laughed heartily at the whole story, and
not the least, at his sulkies description of
the gentlemanly 'piekpooket.
"Woll e "t he said, "you had better walk
in and , hav'e tea with us, and my sister will
be able to say whether she eau speak to
yourideutity, after which it will be time
enough to canvass propriety of sending
for a constable."
You may be sure I accepted his invi.
tation. Need Igo further with the story
I The young lady (to use the words of the
advertisement) captured the pickpocket
herself, and.received the reward, ench're
ward being the said pickpocket.
The bachelor's button no longer adorns
my blue coat, and I now have framed and
glazed over the fire-place, the advertise
ment, in which I am publicly described by
my own wife as "a pickpocket, with gen-
tlemanly address." When I charge her
with libel, she always does what she has
this moment done, pay damages for the
slander in an amount of kisses, declaring,
though not a pickpocket. I was a thief, and
stole her heart and pocketed her bracelet.
So ends the story of "Us Baolinoies
Burros."
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 19, 1856.
[Prom Dickau' Household Wordt.
THE ANGEL'S STORY.
Through the blue and frosty heavens,
Christmas stars were shining bright;
The glistening lamps of the great City,
Almost matched their gleaming light;
And the winter snow was lying,
And the winterivrWe were sighing,
Long ago on; Christmas night.
While from every tower and steeple,
• Pealing bells were sounding clear,)
(Never with each tbnes of gladness,
Save when Christmas time is near,)
Many a one that night was merry,
Who had toiled through all the year.
That night saw old wrongs forgiven,
Friends long parted reconcile ;
Voices, all unused to laughter,
Eyes, that had forgot to smile,
Anxious hearts that feared the morrow,
Freed from all their cares awhile.
Rich and poor felt the Name blessing
From the gracious season fall ;
Joy and plenty in the cottage,
Peace and feasting in the hall;
And the, voices of the children
Ringing dear above it all I
Yet one house was dim and darkened;
Gloom, and sickness, and despair
Abiding in the gilded chamber,
Climbing up the marble stair,
Stilling even the voice of mournitig—
For a childing lay dying there.
Silken curtains fell around him,
Velvet carpets hushed the tread,
Many costly toys were lying,
All unheeded by his bed,
And his tangled golden ringlets
Were on downy pillows spread.
All the skill of the great city,
To save that little life was vain ;
That little thread from being broken ;
That fatal word from being spoken;
Nay his very mother's pain,
And the mighty love within her,
Could not give him health again.
And she knelt there still beside him',
She alone with strength to smile,
And to promise he should suffer
No, more in a little while,
And with murmur'd song and story
The long weary hours beguile.
Suddenly an itheeeit Presence
Checked these constant mourning cries,
Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering,
Raised the blue and wondering eyes,
Fixed on some mysterious vision,
With a startled sweet surprise.
For a radiant angel hovered
Smiling o'er the little bed ;
White his raiment, from his shouldirs
Snowy dovelike pinions spread,
And a starlike light was shining
In a glory round his bead.
While, with tender lave, the angel,
Leaning o'er the little nest,
In his arms the sick child folding,
Laid him gently on his breast,
Sobs and wailing. from the mother,
And her darling was at rest.
So the angel, slowly rising,
Spread his wings; and, through the air
Bore the pretty child, and held him
On his heart with loving care,
A red branch of blooming roses,
Pining softly by him there.
While the child, thus clinging, floated
Toward the mansions of the blest,
Gazing from his shining guardian
To the flowers upon:his breast,
Thus the angel spoke, still smiling
On the little heavenly guest :
°Know, oh little one I that heaien
Does no earthly thing disdain,
Man's poor joys find there an echo
Just as surely as his pain ;
Love, on earth so feebly striving,
Lives divine in heaven again.
"Once in yonder town below ns,
In a poor and narrow street,
Dwelt a little sickly orphan,
Gentle aid, or pity sweet,
'Never in life's rugged pkthway
Guided his poor tottering feet.
"All the striving anxionf.forethought
That should only come with age,
Weighed upon his baby spirit, -
Showed him soon life's sternest page;
Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow
Was his only heritage 1
"All too weak for childish pastimes
Drearily the hours spend
On his hands so small and trembling
Leaning his poor aching head,
Or, through dark and painful hours,
Lying sleepless on no bed.
"Dreaming strange and longing fancier
Of cool &rale far away;
Dreams of rosy happy children;
Laughing merrily at play;
Coming home through green lanes bearing
Trailing branches of white May.
"Scarce a glimpse of the blue heavens
Gleamed above the narrow street,
And the sultry air of Summer
• (That you called so warm and sweet)
Fevered the poor Orphan, dwelling
In the crowded alley's heat.
"One bright day, with feeble footsteps
Slowly forth he dared to crawl,
Through the crowded city's pathways,
Till he reached a garden•wall ;
Where 'mid princely halls and =melon's
Stood the lordliest of all. ,
"There were trees with giant branches
Velvet glades where shadows hide ;
There were sparkling fountsius glancing,
Flowers whose rich luxuriant pride
MEI=
ITEARLEBEI AND FREE."
Wafted s breath of woes perfume
To the child who stil outside.
"He against the gide et iron
,
Pressed his wanandSristfhl face,
Geeing with an a stuck pleasure
At the glories o the d tlace ;
Never had his fai •dream
Shone with half a ci9rondrous grace.
"Yon were playing that garden,
Throwing blow slp the air,
And laughing wh IFB petals floated
Downward on 3'o •lden hair ;
And the fond eiva . ing o'er you,
And the splendor a •‘" • • before you,
Told, a Honee's : • was there.
"When your Berm • "tired of seeing
His pale face of and woe,
Turning to the 4 ; r'l rphan,
Gave him coin, a.l • e him go.
DOM) his cheeks 'to and wasted
Bitter team be • flow.
"But that look of c h sorrow,
On your tender y g heart fell,
And you plucked th Addest roses
From the tree yo Coved so well,
Passing them throu the stern grating,
With the gentle ' ,'Farewell I"
~
"Dazzled by the ' , t treasure
And the gentle' r b e heard,
In the pow: forlorn • spirit,
Joy the sleeping ph stirred;
In his hand he the flowers,
In his heart thy 1 " ' g word.
In,,
•
"So he crept to his poor garret,
Poor no more, btu rich and bright ;
For the holy drearnsof.childhood--
Love, and Rest, and Pop& and Light--
Floated round the Orplun'aiiillow.
Through the atarry . pammer night.
"Dsy dawned, yet ail *lon lasted;
All too weak to rise k lay;
Did be dream that noitispoke harshly
All were strangely Mid that day?
Yes • he thought his t:rinsureil, roses
Mast hare charmed oil ills away.
"And he smiled, though they were fading ;
One by one their laves were shed ;
'Stich bright thinp chid never perish.
They wiald blootaisgtin,' he said.
When the, next dayts 'lent had risct,
mita and dowers boil were dead.
"Know, dear little olio t our Father
Doea no ge utle, dri liedain ;
And in,heirtegittlkg in heaven,
Love on the cold earth remaieing
Lives divine and pore again!"
Thus the angel ceased, and gently
O'er his little hardiest leant ;
While the child gated from the shining
Loving eyes that der him bent,
To the blooming roads by him,
Wondering what/.hat mystery meant.
Then the radiant angel answered,
And with holy meaning smiled s i
"Ere your tender, ksving spirit
Bin and the haul world defiled,
Mercy gave me leave to seek yoi ;
I was once thatlfitle child I"
A DANDY TRYNG IT ON. -"My dear
Amelia." said the dandy; on banded knees
befere his adorable,' "1 have long wished
for this opportuttiff, but hardly dare 'peak
now' for fear you I will inject me ; but I
love you—will y.O be mine ? Yea will
be to me every tbiag desirable—evnrything
my heart could wish. Your smiles would
shed—"
Here the dan4r stuck, fast for lack of
some big poetioe ression to help him out.
"Your smiles would abed--"
Another dead ;halt I Meantime the
young. lady's b titer, a bit, of a wag,
had stole unpe bred into the room and
heard all the brig t talk. Dandy, tries a
third time—
" Your smiles I
"Never mind
wag, "pass it and
The young lad,
awry by the quei
gathering bimsel
parts unknown.
uld sbed"--
e wood-she.d," olikid the
Iltry something else I"
gravity was quite put
exhibition, and dandy,
; up hastily, vamoeed to.
New York Btite, with
J votes, klled at the late
ion 595,160 votes, while
is, having together 69 ri
ffled 595 r 978. These
a. Delaware, Arkansas,
it, nd, Texas, Louisiana,
th Carolina, Vermont,
1 rid California.
A PM/ALUM.
thirt7 , five elect()
Presidential eleo
twelve other 8
lectors) votes;
States are Flori
Alabarea, Mar
Mississippi, N
New Hampshire
A NOBLE GI
sembly, Gem P
log from the ofi
Amhara! Sod •
.—At the Partnete'
. St. G. Cooke, on retie-
. of President otthe Ag
, which he has so ably
e society his check for
oilers as a contribution
taining an Agricultural
, on witb the University
i mond Dispatch: . .
filled, gave to t
twenty thousand
to a - fund for nrel
School in cornea 1
of
A young man fki New York city has eta. -
len the •ffeotion and married the only
daughter of a wealthy gentleman, who
give the scamp 14,000 to release her from
all matrimonial hoods—after which he
went to the honer of her father and took
her away in a carriage', she preferring the
husband to the "tonnes.
111:7Philosopl,ers say, that shutting the
eyes makes the ease of hearing more a
cute. This may account for the many
closed eyes that are aeon in (Air churches.
A Vat=Antal SEIM= /Da "DIM
With a hula nelitness, and with taste in
selecting the right goods, you can dress
three times as well as usual, at about one.
third the usual' expense. '
fr 74"4 Bay Pat, are you salve ?
"Divil the slap."
"Theo be atter kale me a quarter."
"I'm salve be jabots."
A TALE.
Mr. Choste's miser able and nonde.
script manuscript has frequently furnish
ed the basis of many a spirited hots 'mot,
the best we ewer saw hoticg been, penned
by the late Major North. But the pecu
liar dlegibillity of Mr. Choste's hand
'trilling will be seen by the following in
cidents t
Oa the oetiation of the meeting it be
came necessary that the letter of decline
lion should be publicly read, and the chair
man Will called upon to fulfil the office.-*
Chairman accordingly arose in his - seat
and thrust hie hand into his left hand
pocket to find the letter. Letter w a sn't
there. Chairman tried the right—no go.
Tried the coat-tail pockets—no success.
Letter turned np mussing. Chairman
stared at Secretary, and Secretary. in
tun), aerCtinized the entitttenance of the
Vice .President ; no Choate manuscript
to be found. The next was fur the per
tom to whom it was addressed to go to his
hotel, in Look stre.et, end 'hunt the let.'
ter. Colonel Richard B. Jones was as
busy, when hie guest entered, as slunk
rat At high Slater, engaged 'in giving 'a
Dutch carpenter directions' for making an
ornamental cornice
"Whit's the matter. air, he asked as
the fat gent rushed into the saloon, puffing
like a porpoise; ' , what's your- hurry 1"
"Why, Colonel. . 1 am as mad as than.
der ;.I've bat Rufus Choate's letter to the
Democratic meeting. sad they're waiting
to hear it read.l„.'
!•Ah, indeed 1 that's a pity." remarked
the Colonel. with hie usual sympittity.—
" Where did you leave it last 1"
Well, the fact is, I don't knaw ; but I
ant pretty sure IA it in my room." •
"Have you looked there 1"
wirel ; but I can't find it." •
“Why, that's very strange; nobody
has entered your room since you NW--
Suppose you go up and take another
look t”
The fat gentleman acquiesced, and
they ascended the stairs together. when
fat gent espied a paper lying on the floor,
which he declared to be the missing doc
ument. This he seised, end hurried up
to the State !louse, where the meeting
was in Session.
He entered, and as the. audience were"
on the, climacteric of exmosney to' know
what Mr. Chosite's sympathies were, , fat
gept's appeaiance. red as a lobster in a
: nevi . suit of vermillion, ; with 4 paper in
failignapprudoccif around 4: 4 10
Fat gentleman subsided lino a chair. and
wiped hie face with a square yard of kb
ric, while Secretory arose. militated lois
spectacles and neck-tie, pnlled up his
shirt collar precisely three-quarters of an
inch higher,and then unfolded the doe
ument. hen he did so, he blushed
scarlet, returned paper to fat gent, and.
sat down. Audience began to hiss, while
fat gent soon saw that, instead of Choate's
letter, he had brought with him. by mil.
takes an architecutural design. The
house then went into an Uproar. As it
we, to late to read the letter, and While
the Seeretary stated the facts of the case,
our fat friend returned to Col., Jones, to
enlist hie eympathy. While the Colonel
was thus listening to his chtillby friend's
narrative, in comes a Dutch carpentert
with a planed board under his arm, saw
ed in angles innumerable. Micky look
ed irate,, and, as a matter, of course. his
employer wished to know why.
' , Why. Chanel, I shoot give np die
ehob, and have noting more to do mit
dat ish all."
"Why not 1" was theaupprieed rejoind
"Yes, why not ?" added bit gent, quite
interested in , the man's manner.
"Well, because it takes too much
shtuff, und too much work; und I Jonah
money cdt it pinkies."
,
"Why, you get all you ilk, don'tyou .
inquired the Colonel.
"Yes; but you tell me'dat'de' diagram
was plain, and you sends me one what
ish dilrerent every ten loot und ash hard
to make ash der tuyfel."
"Why, that's odd I" says the Colonel,
4 1.aet's look at it I“
"Dere, by tender I" said . Dutehy, pro
dosing Ihe paper and spreading it on the
table. "Shoost dell me how you dinke I
make dot for six toilers I" '
ierhe.deuce I",,exeleitned - the Colonel,
with empharie. ' '
."Goodnese gracious 1" oak! the jet
men. Ishe's been making to cornice 6y
Mat Choate Leiter."
Such was the ease, The Carpenter—
a newly arrived Leipsiger—had by some
mistake got bold of the fat gentleman's
treasure, and supposing it to be the Cols'
o
draft a "tam Yankee cornice," had
faithfully endeavored to saw out a pattern.
It was a most unexampled ease of parse.
verance under extreme difficulties. as
Col. Choate's manuscript looks very
much what a Virginia worm fence must
appear to a gentleman upon a hard
spree.
WONDIRPUL GROWTH or lOWA.—Gov
ernor Grimes of lowa, in his annual mes.
sage, makes the State's indebted nes $128,-
000 ; availsble revnue $246,000; received
during the year $260,000; paid out $219,-
000. The population of the State in 1836
amounted to only 10,531; up to June
1854 it increased to 826.014, and in Juno
last numbered 508,625 souls. At the
present moment it probably reaches 600;
000. The assessable property in the State
in 1851 was valued at $28,464,550; in
1855 at $106,895,800, and in 1856 at
$164,194,418. This is truly a w onderful
growth, and shows to what greatness and
wealth this young State is rapid ly attain
ing. •
Pleasure owes all its zest to anticipa
ilon. The promise of a shilling fiddle
will keep a schoolboy in happiness (or a
year. The fun connected with its poses
elan will expire in an hour.
GALLAS soy OP GINGER BLUE.
liiiiT.The following lines we iind floating
aloose.-' Unlike most negro melodies, they
have a dug of genuine poetic excellence and
harmony in them, worthy of being set to mu.
sic. We publish them with the hope that some
of our musical friends will try their voices up
on them. Let us see if some one of renders
cannot set the words to music :
Dark, dark de night, and *us de moon,
Nagar but one am peepin' ;
The hootowl akoge de same ole toon,
Ai true de woods I'm creepin'.
"Boo•hoo I boo hoof"-who cam fOr dat,
Yon good•ror•nott'n feddered cat f
Die nigger keep on aingint ;
He sing, and on de banjo play,
To charm de goblin Oman away,
While de skunk he aweete am ilingla%
True de wooda—push along,
Heber fear de booka-boo
True de woode--dat's de Bong,
Gallas son ob Ginger Blue I
De whipmin•will squat on de stone,
Trois mthde from his fiddle
De daficing'Trogs all swashm.down . „
Outside and np de Middle. • '
What dat what der. I die, nigger's eyei
Displore, wid mighty big inirprme,
Upon de gnm-tree stritigiul P
It ant a poSsurn at his earn
Docked in de cradle ou de breeze,,,
And li sestin' to, de . .
Trne do woods—upusli
Neber mindlO - possum,'too 1
True de Goods—dat's de sting, ~
Fearless son of Ginger Blue i
De moon swine down—pitch dark de night
Cold, cold de dew am falling I
I fear dig darkey see a eight,
.Dat let him wool. a crawling 1 .
Who dar,t who du goblin itadt ?
'Peak I or dis Minetrum's bahjeit
'Peak, and d,yael* unnibbl.
'Teak 1, goblin, °peak! but whed'r or no,
Dia ininatrutn drop Ma ole babjci,
And trip a litlk trabli'll 1
True de woods-•cut along—
Tudder back you booga•boo
True de wooda-4rap de song,
Nimble child of Ginger Blue
MR. WERSPER ON ..THE DA:Atti OF
HIS win;
' His'efweches and writings give no finer
Indicatitins of the inaktvty and greatness,
of• Mr. Vit'abiteee' than is alThrde4
Wire'
•
his ..private correspondence," recently
published t
W/onigarox, March 21, 1828.
My Dear Nephew c--I thank you for
your kind affectionate letter, and. assure
you its euggeations are all In strict accor•
'dance with my own feelings. It tines
appear to me. reaeonable to believe that
the trientlshipe ophis life'are perpetuated
in Heaven. -Flesh and blood, indeed. Can..
not inherit the kingdom of God I but. I
know not why that which ronatitutes a
pure source of happiness on earth, indi
vidual.affection and love, may not may've
the tomb. Indeed. is not the principle of
happiness, to the sentient being essential.,
ly the same in heaven and on acrid The
love Of God and of the girl beings whom
he hat created, and the admiration of the
material universe which he has formed,
can there.be . other sources of. hsppiness
than these to the human mind, unless it is
to alter the whole structure and character?
And again, it may he asked. how can
this world be rightly called 4 al'enP a pro'
bation and discipline, if' 'these affeetions,
which we are commanded to cherish' and
cultivate, here, are to leavens on the thresh
old of the other world? These Cews, and
many others, would seem to lead to
the belief that earthly affections, pit.
rifled and exalted, are fit to' carry' with
us to the abode of the blersed. Yet it
must be confessed thut there are some
possibly
in the NOW Testament which ma)
possibly countenance a different conch.
sion. The words of our Saviour. espeoi.
ally in regard to the woman who had see
ms husbands, deserve deep reflection.—
I am free to confess that some descriptions
of heavenly happiness are to ethereal and
sublimated as to fill me with a strange sort
431 terror. Ewen that which you quote,
that our departed friends are as' the an•
gels of God," penetrates my soul with a
dreadful emotion. Like en angel of Gad,
Indeed, I hope she is in purity, happiness,
and in immortality; but I would , fain hope
that in kind remembrance of those she has
left; Ic a lingering human sympathy and
human love she may yet be as God origi
nally created her, a little lower than the
angels.
My dear nephew. 1 rennet pursue theee
thoughts nor turn back to see wheal have
written. Adieu.
ASTRONObIIOAL PHINOMENA.•-•430011
after the Copernican system of Astronomy
began to be generally understood, an old
Connecticut farmer went to his parson
with the following enquiry :
"Dr. T., do you believe in the new story
aboit the earth moving around the sun ?'
"Yes, certainly."
"Do you think it according to the
Scriptures ? If it is true, how could Josh
ua command the sun to stand still ?"
"Umph !" said the Doctor, scratching
hie head ; "Joshua commanded the am 'to
stand stil l, did. he
"Yea."
"Well, it stood still, did it not ?"
"Yea,"
“Very well.- Did you over bear that he
eel it going again IP”
Mir The woman who was geburird in
grief" is now alive and doing well. It
was a ease of premature interment. ,
'craw to Square the C{rdt.-&t•
tle your wife's bill for hoops et s . drp good
store.
M=EI
TWO DOLLARS PES
NUMBER 41.
FRINTEES AND PARADOM,
A printer, says Oliver. is the moat Ma
rine being living, He mayihave bank'
and coins, and not be worth a cent; have
small caps, and have neither alto ,nor
children. Others may run fast. but he
gets along swifter by selling fast. He, -
may be making impressions, without
.efo.
quinine: may use the ley without of f end..
ing, and be telling the truth; while Others
cannot stand while they sit, he sets stands
nag. and does both at the same time;.have •
to use -furniture, and yet have no dwell—
ing may make and put away pi, and'
neveg see a pie; much levy eat it, durin g:
hiivihole life ; be a humrn being and*
rat at the saute, !kite t may press a great
deal end not ask a favor; may handle a
Shooting iron, and know nothing about ts (
cannon, gun, or.pirool ;he mg move t he '•
/ever that moves the world, and yet begat ,1
lar iron) moving the 'globe as a hog under'
a molehill;: spread sheets without being
a housewife; he may lay /affirm on:a,
bee. and yet be obliged to sleep on the
floor - The may tse the dagger withodt .
shedding blood, and from the earth he
may 'handle stars; he, may be of a roll.'
ing, disposition, and,, yet - never desire ti.
travel ; he may have a sheep's foot,, snit,
not be deformed; never without a cote,.
and 'yet know nothing of law or physic s'
be always correcting his errors, and 14 1 '
krovvin g worse every day ;
.have em-bra..
rev, without ever having the arms of a Inas
thrown around him ; have his form locked .
vi; and at the same time be free frOmlail. -
watch hone% or any other confinemetiti'
his office may have a .hell in it, and not he
R halt place after all ; he might be plagued'':
by the devil, and be a Christian of the
best kind ; and what is stranger still.. be
to honest or dishonest, rich or poor. drmik
or anber, industrious or lazy, he elvrayi
elands up to his business. .
A
THE LIPE OP A STATE.-.-... state cannot
flourish long on wrong ideas—on a foun- ,
dation of violence and wrong, fraud and
oppression ; and if honest coroners' ver.
dims wore recorded on the tomb.stones of
dead empires, we should read *different his
toles from these false stories told us lit
the books. We shoulbriod that Babylon
the great died of a fit of delirium tremens
-that Nineveh was killed by apoploxy4- .
that Macedonia died of fear—that old E.
gypt's death blow was given by the gout
—that Rome received shock after shock
of paralysis ) with centuries intervening be
tween the attack-;-that, to come to mod.
ern times, poor Ireland's disease. is liun
ger 7 --that old England is , plethoric--that
germany is bilious, and has n most terra
bee' headielia:::4liat Spain afflicted With
the scurvy-that Austria not only ha/Arend
ful tits of oh die, but is troubled with a :
very, attentive nurse on 'either side--that
France hat the neuralgia, and sometimes, ,
in a revolutionary era, has St. Vitus' dance.
Turning to America, We 'find that her on
ly safety is in clinging' to her ideas of , truth
and right, end that when the State emotes
to live by these , grand ideas it most die.
like liko a blasted tree.— MOS. Slors Zing
RAD NEWS TO . USERS OR TODACOO.—.
The Scalpel (a Medical journspubiiihed'
in. N. 'rink y for December,Cliniaa along ,,
article against the use of tobieco, with the
following : ' •
In eating, the tobacen chewer must lose
all delicate appreolatiou ni fravor; we
have observed, indeed, that he is very ea
sily satisfied
_by the fi,liliy Irish cottkeryi
and greasy and cold meat 'and veritable*.
of the hotel or boarding house; he seesaws
his. food very highly, because of his °Muse,
taste; many of these unfortunates drink
raw brandy for the same reason. The to-,
Immo chewer rarely eats a raw oyster;
preferring it. fried, and coated over: with .
grease and its empyrouinat if he takes it
raw, he tortures the poor c restore with
pepper and vinegar, and sticks a fork in
it; be can' not elicit it gently from its
prison with his lips—they ere clumsy
and half paralysed. Finally and worse .
than.all, he ceases to appreciate the chaste
salute from the rosy lip of rove, and if the
mistrees of his blunted affections should
permit hint to approach her cheek, it can . ,:
only only be with pent•up breath, and averted !
eyes directed towarde bie pocket—the only ,
attraCtioa a beautiful woman can possibly
have for a tobacco chewer. ' If there be a.
vice more prostrating to the :body 'antl%,
mind, and more crucifying to all the sym.,:,
Nobles of man's spiritual nature, we have ,
yet to be convinced of it:
A FARMER.
Among our hills and valleys. I have known'
Wise and grave men, who, while their diligent
hands
Tended or gathered in the fruits of earth, •
Were reverent learners in the solemn acheal
Of Nature. Not in vain to them were sent
Stmtkirne and hart. set, or the verbal /tower
Thattlarkened the brown tilth, or snow thatlasat
On the white winter hills. Each brought intern
Some truth, some lesson on the life of man,
Or recognition of the Eternal mind,
Who veils his glory with the elements. • •
One such I knew long since, a whitelairedmarr*
Pithy of speech, and merry when he would I
A. genial optimist, who daily drew
From what he saw his quaint moralities.
[ TV C. Nrrifi•
. ,
LIT L 6 J.TRIcs.-:-A KOOMM
0111.
who had lost his wife, whose maiden nentg.
was Little, addressed the following to Mute
Mote, a lady of diminutive statures
"rye lost the Little once! bad; •
My heutrt is sad and sore;
So nowlahoold be' wiry glad,
To haves little More." •
To which the lady sect ;ha folkiwing
answer . ,
"T pity much the loss you've . had. ;
The grief you must endure ;
A horst by Little wade to wd r , -
A lithe nose won't CrUS 14
lzpViltse grove tholes" sireil tla ale,.
works ? A vegoo•erbeei.
~:~~uth~s;,
- ;, .