Raftsman's journal. (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, August 30, 1854, Image 1

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COME A"D TAKE ME. Dcvivier
CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1854.
NO. 9.
VOL. 1.
RAFTSMAN'S JOURNAL.
Bex. Jones. Publisher.
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'-Kaftsnian'g Journal' Clearfield. Pa., (post-paid to
receive attention.)
THE-DEAD.
Tho dead alone are great?
While heavenly planta abide on earth,
Thasoll is one of dewless dearth;
But when they die, a morning shower
Comes down and makes their memories flower
"With odors sweet, though late.
The dead alone are fair!
While they are with us, strange lines play
Before our eyes, and chase away
God'a light ; but let them pale and die,
And swell the stores of memory
There is no envy there.
The dead alone are dear !
While they are here, long shadows fall
From our own forms, and darken all
But when they leave ns, all the ehade
Is round our own sad footsteps made .
And they are bright and clear.
The dead alone are blest !
While they are here, clouds mar the day.
And bitter snow-falls nip their May ;
But when the tempest time is done,
The light and heatof Ileaven'town sun
Broods on their lands of rest.
From the Star Spangled Banner.
PIN MONEY ;
AN ACT FROM TOE COMEDY OF LIFE,
BT J. . F. BROOKS.
In this world the fondest and best
Are the most tried, most troubled and distress'd.
Ckabbe.
"I declare, 'tis provoking I'm in a perfect
rage I'll pay them in their own coin cool as
an ice in dog -days I shall remember them
the haughty minxes and brainless fops !" Ara
bella Bantem petulantly exclaimed, entering
the room where her mother and sister sat at
work. She had just returned from her usual
afternoon promenade upon Washington street,
where, to judge by her manner, she had been
terribly crossed. .
Flinging her bonnet and shawl carelessly
upon an ottoman, she threw herself upon a
iofa and she gave still further vent to her an
ger. 'What is the matter, dear ?" inquired her
mother, looking up from her work : " what has
- excited you ?"
"Matter! matter enough. It's all owing to
pa. lie is either so stingy, or lazy, or gets
cheated, that he never has any money. Be
cause he refused me a reasonable allowance I
was unable to procure what dresses I wished,
and when I went out this afternoon, I found
that all my acquaintances had dashed out in
their Spring fashions, while I made a poor
show What was the consequence ? Several
of my most intimate friendsdid not notice me,
and those young fops who are always so atten
tive to me when invited to our soirees, they
bent their heads down to those pert misses at
their sides, or nodded to some one on the
other side of the street; several I shall not
forget them gazed me full in the face, with
out the least show of recognition ; oh, it is
enough to make me wish I was a man !"
Here her feeMngs were so wrought up that
she actually burst into tears.
''Arabella, dear," said her mother, sooth
ingly, "calm your excited feelings. I ani con
fident you will be able to eclipse them one of
these days." .
"I presume so, during the milleniuni,"'shc
said, bitterly.
The above conversation took place in the
sitting-room cf a pretentious dwelling-house
.situated in a quiet, respectable street at the
'western part of the city, owned and occupied
by Henry Bantem, Esq., a "grocer in a small
way," as DicKens would have it. , The Esq.
wis attached to his name by several customers
! whom he allowed unlimited credit. lie
was a man that reminded one of the fable of
the frog and bull ; making as lofty pretensions
am his more aristocratic neighbors. Once lis
tening to the voice of the tempter he invested
the greater part of his available property in
.certain railroad shares, when they ivere far
below par value. It was a bad speculation for
him so far, for like the mercury in a barome
ter before a gale, it gradually fell lower and
lower till it was almost worthless.
While Arabella was saturating her handker
chief with tears, Mr. Bantem, flashed and ex
cited, rushed unceremoniously into the house,
to the consternation of his family.
"What has happened 1" exclaimed his wife,
in alarm, starting from her seat.
"Stocks np I've made fifty thousand dol
Jars!" was hii breathless answer.
Arabella instantly dried her tears.
So overjoyed was he with his good luck,
that hs flung his arms around his "cara- spo
sa's" neck, and imprinted a kiss upon her
lips ; an act which he had not been guilty of
for many a long year. Mrs. Bantem. was dis
mayed, and began to fear he was laboring un
der hallucination of mind.
"Mr. B.," she exclaimed, "I am surprised!
How very ungenteel you are ; what a bad Ex
ample you set for your daughters !"
A slight blush and a faint smile passed over
Arabella's features at this remark. She had a
beau, and perhaps he was in the habit of "lap
ping lasses," as the editor of the Bunkum
Flagstaff has it.
Mrs. Bantem was in ecstacies with her hus
band's good fortune ; a vision of a coach of
their own passed before her eyes.
"Papa, we can go to Newport this summer,"
chimed in Arabella. That morning she ad
dressed him as pa, but fifty thousand made
him papa.
The youngest daughter had her own plea and
thoughts, but they were far different from
either mother's or sister's. But more of her
anon.
There was immediately a great revolution
in that house. The drawing-room furniture
was removed to the sitting-room, the sitting
room lurniture went to the basement, the
basement went to the kitchen, and the kitch
en's went to the auction room. Several more
servants were added to the revenue of one a
coach was bought the "grocery in a small
way," was closed, and II. Bantem, Esq. could
be seen daily on "Change.
Arabella and Alice, the two danghters, had
each a beau, or "cavalier;" as Miss Arabella
expressed it. Her cavalier was Augustus
Hyacinth Potts, a knight of the yard stick,
and quite a dashing young gentr enjoying a
salary of three hundred a year. Alice's beau
was an enterprising, generous-hearfed, indus
trious mechanic.
As Alice is our heroine, it would not come
amiss to introduce her to our readers. She
was not beautiful, as most heroines are, and
had but jew of thone charms which captivate
drawing-room critics.'but.he waa woman-i
her gentleness loving and true-hearted, three
of the greatest virtues a woman can be en
dowed with.
Mr. Bantem did not look with a favorable
eye upon the suit of his youngest daughter's
admirer, because in the littleness of his soul,
he thought that Harry Edwards, who earned
his livelihood by mechanical employment, was
not an eligible match for Alice. He wished
to keep her for some one who moved in a high
er circle of society.
Consequently he refused Harry the hand of
his daughter for the present, us he said. He
did not wish to give him a flat denial, thinking
that in case there should no such opportunity
present itself, he should rather have her mar
ried to Harry than remain single. As they
were two loving hearts, difficulties of this na
ture could not separate them.
That evening Alice could not wait for the
tedious moments that brought round the time
for Harry to call upon her as was his wont, but
putting on her bonnet and shawl, tripped out
with a light heart to meet him. She fondly
imagined that the barrier to the consumma
tion of their complete happiness would uow be
removed, ner father had now become wealthy,
and he could have no objection to their union
now, for he could remove it by giving her a
dowry. Poor girl ! she was sadly disappoint
ed on that score.
"Oh, Harry, I am so happy! I have got
such good news," she joyfully exclaimed, the
moment they met.
"Have you, dearest ? I must participate in
your happiness," said he, taking her hand and
gazing fondly into her eyes. "Suppose we
leave the noisy street and seek a more tranquil
walk ?" . .
They bent their steps towards the Common
and wandered slowly along the hard beaten
walls, seeking those less frequented. The
evening was beautiful and serene A warm,
summer night-breeze was fanning gently
through the noble elms through whose vault of
quivering leaves the moonbeam's mysterioxis
light was glancing. A quietness reigned
around, only broken by the soothing dash of
the fountain, a confused murmur of voices,
and the tramp of footsteps.
The lovers heeded not these sounds, but
sauntered slowly along the paths where the
leafy branches overhead were thickest. Alice
hung upon Harry's arm, who drank in her
sweet, musical voice as she pictured vividly to
him the happiness in store for themselves.
"I am confident father, will be liberal to us,
now he has become wealthy," said she. "The
only reason he objected to our union before
must have been his inability to help ns, and
his not wishing us to struggle against poverty,
which certainly would have been the case."
Harry listened, but made no answer. He
readily excused her for her wish to soften the
asperity and selfishness of her father's disposi
tion. He inwardly resolved, if it was in his
power, that Der bright visions of the future
should not be dispelled. He had a bold heart
and a strong hand, with a determination to
overcome any difficulty that rose' before his
path.
liminary arrangements for their marriage had
been discussed and settled in their minds.
Even they had gone so far as to appoint the
day when the happy event was to take place.
"The assurance of lovers," says a writer, "they
always imagine that-when they have avowed
their love to each other, the whole business is
completed. Parents are nonentities, settle
ments are figments. Whoever thinks of the
one or the other ?" It was precisely so in
their case.
On? morning, as the two daughters were in
their mother's dressing-room, she remarked
what a fashionable young gentleman was Fred
eric Pompadour, "and besides, he is. heir to
a great estate, so it is reported. He appear
ed," she continued, glancing -at Arabella, "to
be very much taken up with you, the other
evening."
A smile was the only reply, but the hint was
taken. "Au revoir, Monsieur Potts," thought
Arabella.
Mr. Potts was jilted ! Poor Potts !
"What vulgar people those dirty mechan
ics are," said Mrs. Bantem, with a contempt
uous toss of her head. "They ought not to
be admitted within the pale of society."
That broadside was for poor Alice. The big
tears glistened in her eyes. "They are na
ture's noblemen, ".she said, quietly leaving
the room. There was sorrow in store for her,
for her constancy to her lover.
That evening she was sitting alone in her
chamber, gazing at the fleecy clouds floating
across the star-besprinkled heavens. Her
thoughts must have been Bad ones., for the
pearly tear drops were trembling upon her
lashes. A few days ago she had peopled the
future with shadows of joy, and now a dark
clomfhung threateningly over her head.
While thus communing with her thoughts.
she was startled by the entrance of her father.
Her heart throbbed violently, for she suspect
ed his errand; nor was she mistaken, for he
stated the cause of his visit before he was
barely seated.
"Alice, are you engaged to Harry Edwards?"
he inquired.
"Father, I am," was the firm reply.
"It is my desire you break off the engage
ment. I have found a young gentleman who
is not a vulgar mechanic."
"Father, it is impossible ; I can love no one
but Harry." She buried her face in her hand
kerchief and sobbed as if her heart would
break.
"Alice," said the hard-hearted father, after
a moment's pause, "you have your choice,
either discard vour lover or leave my house."
Sob, sob, was the only reply. He waited
a few moments and then impatiently inquired
if she had made up her mind.
"Father, I have," she answered with a des
perate effort, "my love for Harry is too strong.
I will leave your house."
'Very well; you can no longer consider my
house as your home," said he, through his
set teeth, as he rose and left the room.
"Father, father ! hear me," she implored,
rushing forward and seizing his arm. "rath
er! dear father, forgive me !" she cried, en
deavoring to fling her arms around his neck.
He shook her off and abruptly closed the
door in her face. "
With one sob, deep from her heart, she sank
upon a seat and gave way to her grief. For a
fall hour the tears of grief Avelled up from her
heart's fount. Every joy, hope and bright
dream of happiness had fled rudely broken
by the stern spirit of her unloving, tnercena
ry father. The paroxysm of grief passed
away she arose and approached the window
the moon was obscured behind a murky
cloud, but the edges were bright.
"Ah," thought she, "that cloud and my
life how appropiiate but remember, every
cloud hath a silver lining, every sorrow hath a
joy to soften it Harry's love for inc. is the
silver lining." . ..' ,..t .
That thought cheered her drooping spirits.
She endeavored to see her parents that even
ing, but they refused an interview with her.
That stroke of uukiudness carried despair to
her gentle heart. She), sought her chamber,
and with eyes full of tears and a heart full of
sorrow, laid her head upon the pillow and
sobbed away the midnight hours.
Exhausted with weeping she at last fell
asleep and dreamed, not dark and terrible
ones, as would be imagined, but bright and
happy ones a good omen. Bright rays of
sunlight were yet to gild her pathway through
life.
In the morning, after a vain attempt to ob
tain a reconciliation with her parents, she
sought a maiden aunt and colessed her grief to
her. She pitied Alice, and though nowise
favored by fortune, she gladly gave her a
home.
Alice met Harry and informed him of the
event that had transpired.
"Noble hearted girl ?" was his exclama
tion. She communicated her intentions to him of
earning her ow;n livelihood as seamstress. .
"Dear Alice, you shall not harbor , such a
thought," said he. "Yoc toil for your daily
bread ? If o ; we will be married at once I
have laid by a small sum, it is true, but enough
to meet our frugal expenses, and as for the fu
ture, it looks bright." : -
"No, no ! it cannot be at present," she re
plied, "I must work as well as you."
"But why, dearest ?"
"We have not the means we are not rich
enough to be married. To support me you
would be obliged to toil'from morning till
ght." .
"Nonsense, Alice, we have sufficient to com
mence with, and as for the toil, it would be a
pleasuie."
Harry at last over-ruled her objections, and
a few days after the ties of home had been
sundered, she was bound in stronger tics
united in marriage to Harrv Edwards.
The months fiew away and winter came.
One evening, shortly before Harrryhad ended
his daily toil, his employer .sent a message
stating he wished to have an interview with
him in the counting room. Harry obeyed the
summons. Mr. Goodman, his employer, was
sitting in an easy-chair before a cheerful fire,
persuing the evening paper when he entered.
"Ah. good evening, good evening, Mr. Ed
wards," said the old gentleman, shaking Har
ry cordially by the hand. He was one of those
jolly, good souled men, who are the salt and
savor of the earth.
"Well, Harry, I understand you are married
very god. I heard how that event took place
Very good two noble souls. You have won a
prize. Your wages cannot support you de
cently, and I cannot increase them; but I'll
tell you what I'll do listen: Mybuisiness has
increased of late to such an extent, that I find
I shall be obliged to have- a partner. You, I
know to be an enterprising, intelligent young
man, and I think understand the buisness; well,
what I now propose is to give you a share in
the concern take vou in as a partner. No
thanks not a word goodnight."
Harry understood his eccentricities and bade
him good night with a heart overflowing with
gratitude. It was an unexpected and joyful
event. Harry immediately entered upon his
duties anil gave satisfaction to Mr. Goodman
The buisness was profitable. He was prudent
and economical, and Alice was of a similar
disposition. 'Their wealth increased. A dis
tant relative of Alice bequeathed her a hand
some fortune; forgetting the unnatural treat
mcntf her parents towards her, she gener
ously bestowed half Upon them and likewise a
dowery upon Arabella, whose "cavalier" had
"gone to the wars" one fine summer's day,
when he found that Mr. Bantem had dipped
into several bad speculations so deeply that he
only extricated himself by sacrificing his en
tire property.
Time rolled away. Harry's benefactor paid
the debt of nature; and the whole of the busi
ness came into his hands. lie prospered, and
was a wealth- man ere he had arrived at the
prime of life. At length "hard times" came;
one loss succeeded another. A note became
due, one of a large amount; the most he could
raise fell short of a thousand dollars of the re
quired sum. He returned home gloomy and
dejected, for ruin stared him in the face; but
he could not break the news to Alice.
She was in her boudoir when he returned
home, but he determined to appear before her
as was his wont, but when he thought of her
being oblidged to descend once more to pover
ty, his heart failed him, and he lingered before
the door with feelings bordering upon distrac
tion. For a moment the awful thought of self
destruction flashed through his mind, but
quickly he banished the horrid thought. At
that moment his good angel whispered in his
car the favorite expression of Alice when dan
ger and difficulties were around her "A dark
cloud has a silvery lining." It nerved him,
and he gently opened the door. .
Alice sat in a luxuriantly cushioned arm
chair, deeply intent with the pages of a book.
The crimson and golden sunlight shining
through the parted rifts of black clouds hang
ing in the west streamed into that luxurious
boudoir through the rich and heavy drapery,
looped gracefully to cither side of the window.
Falling upon a carpet so thick and soft that
the lightest footstep would sink deep among
the figures of the richly tinted tropic flowers
so curiously woven into the woof, it crept
gradually up, and even burnished the tip of her
foot. She notice that ray of sunlight, and
raising her eyes saw that black and threaten
ing cloud looming up in the west. "How
black what a gloomy pall over the golden
west," she unconciously said aloud.
No music fell sweeter upon Harry's ears than
did that simple exclamation. He was instantly
by her side and pressed her lovingly to his bo
som. There was still a cloud resting upon his
brow that the caress of hiswife did not dispel
She noticed it, and anxiously inquired the
cause.
"If you have any sorrow, let me share it
with you," said she.
Alter considerable reluctance, he informed
her of his embarrassments. ,
"What sum do you wish to raise 1" she in
quired. "A thousand dollars," was the answer. '
"That all ?" she said, smiling, as she rose
and left the room. She returned in a moment,
and placing a roll in his hands, flung her arms
around his neck. With a trembling Jjand he
unrolled the package, and to his unbounded
joy, found the bills tQ the amount of a thous
and dollars. -,:
"Alice you are an angel !" " and she--was
locked in his arms. "Alice, what fairy sent
you this money?" he asked, pressing her
closer to his bosom.
She smiled, and merely answered "Pin
money."
The truth was this; Harry allowed her a
certain sum weekly for daily expenses, shop
ping, &c. She had not spent any unnecessari
ly, laying by the surplus for a "rainy day,"
as she termed it.
The note was duly honored, and after that
prospects brightened, and he prospered as be
fore. Kake a Character for Yourself.
It is related of Girard, that when' a young
tradesman, having bought and paid for a bag of
coffee, proceeded to wheel it home himself, the
shrewd old merchant immediately offered to
trust his new customer to as many more bags
as the latter might desire. The trait of char
acter revealed by the young man in being his
own porter, had given the mi'.lionare confi
dence in him at once. His reputation was
made with Girard. He became a favorite
dealer with the enterprising merchant, throve
rapidly, and in the end amassed a fortune.
No mere capital will do so much for young
men as character. Nor will always even capi
t:il and connexion combined. In our own ex-
lerience, we have known maiiy beginners who
have utterly failed, though backed by ample
means, and assisted by the influence of a large
circle of friends. In some cases, indeed, con
siderable exjerience, as well as industry and
perseverance, have been added to these ad
vantages, yet without securing success. We
have known such persons, after a failure in
their first pursuit, to try a second, and even a
third, yet with no -better result, although still
assisted by capital, by friends, and even by
their own activity. The secret was that they
"had missed, somehow, making a character for
themselves.
On the other hand, it is a common occurrence
to see young men begin without a' cent, yet
rapidly rise to fortune. They achieve this
triumph by establishing, at the outset, a repu
tation for being competent business men. Few
are so fortunate as to do this by a single char
acteristic act, like the purchaser who won Gi
rard's good will by wheeling home the lag;
for, generally, neither veteran merchants are
as shrewd as the famous millionaire, nor young
dealers as energetic as his customer. But a
consistent life of sagacity, economy and in
dustry, invariably establishes the right kind of
reputation in the end. Confidence grows up
in influential quarters, towards the young be
ginner. Old merchants shake their heads ap
provingly, and say, "he is of the right stuff
and will get along." Credit comes, as it were,
unsought. Connexion follows. The reputa
tion of the new aspirant widens and deepens ;
his transactions begin to be quoted as authori
ty; trade flows in on him from every quarter;
and, in a few years, he retires with a compe
tence, or remains to become a millionaire.
All this is the result of establishing, at the
outset, a character of the right sort.
We may say to every young man, about to
start in life, make a character for yourself as
soon as possible. Let it also be a distinctive
one. It is better to have a name for excelling
all others in some one thing than to enjoy sim
ply a notorietj- for merely general merit. Are
you a mechanic ? outstrip your fellows in skill.
Are you a young lawyer ? become superior in
a particular branch. Are you a clerk ? be the
best book-keeper your employers have. Are
you in a store ? make yourself acquainted with
the various buyers. In short, become known
for an excellence peculiar to yourself ; acquire
a speciality, as it is called ; and success is cer
tain, because you will have, as it were, a mon
opoly, ami can dictate your own terms.
Money may be lost, without fault of our own,
by some one or another of the accidents of
life. Connexions m-iy be broken up by death,
or failure, or change of interests. But char
acter remains through all. It belongs to the
individual, and is above the chances of fate.
Thousands who have lost all else, have recov
ered themselves, by having a character to
start anew with; but no man, without a busi
ness character, has ever risen from the ruin
caused by the loss of capital, or 'the destruc
tion of connexion. Ledger.
Tall Swearing. The Toland County Ga
zette, is responsible for the following:
An anecdote is related to us by a friend, of
a scene which occurred at the annual . town
meeting, of a neighboring town, a few years
ago. which is too good to be lost. . .
Ballot was had for t"wn clerk, which result
ed in the choice of Mr. -, and the porten
tous duty of 'swearing him in' fell upon Squire
, a newly initiated justice of the peace.
The Squire stood up with a great deal of dig
nity, the meeting was hushed, and the Clerk
was ordered to hold up his right hand. Then
came the Squire's administration 'of the oath
You hereby swear that you will tell the
truth, the whole ' truth, and nothing bnt the
truth, for one year, so help you God!' .
No, I'll be d d If I will,' came from the
clerk, and the listeners shouted. , "..",' '
C7 It often happens that they are the best
people whose characters have been most injur
ed by slander as we often find it to. be the
sweetest, fruit which the birds have been pick
ing at, -
The Shadow of Life.
" All that live must die, .
Passing through Nature to Eternity."
Men seldom think of the great event of
death until the dark shadow falls across their
own path, hiding forever from their eyes the
face of the loved one whose living smile was
the sun-light of fheirexistcnce. Death is the
great antagonism of Life; and thecold thought
of the tomb is the skeleton in all our feasts.
We do not want to go through the dark valley,
although its passage may lead to paradise:
and, with Charles Lamb, we do not wish to lie
down in the mouldy grave even with kings and
princes for our bedfellows. But the fiat of Na
ture inexorable. There is no appeal or re
prieve from the great Law that dooms us all
to dust-. We flourish and fade like the leaves
of the forest, and the frailest flower, that blooms
and withers in" a day has not a frailer hold on
life than the mightiest monarch that has ever
shook the earth by his footsteps. Genera
tions of men appear and vanish like the grass;
and the countless multitudes that swarm tho
world to-day will to-morrow disappear like
foot-prints on the shore ;
Soon as the rising tide shall beat, -.'
Each trace will vanish from the sand."
In the beautiful drama of Ion, the instinct
of immortality so eloquently uttered by the
death-devoted Greek finds a deep response in
every. thoughtful soul. It is Nature's prophe
cy of the life to come. When about to yield
his young existence as a sacrifice to Faie, his
bcthrothed Clemantha asks if they shall not
meet again. To which he replies : " I have
asked that dreadful question of the hills that
look eternal ; of the flowing streams that lu
cid flow forever: of the stars amid whose fields
of azure my raised spirit has walked in glory.
All, all were dumb. But while I gaze upon,
thy living face I feel there's something in the
love which mantles through its beauty that
cannot wholly perish. We shall meet again
Clemaxthe." N. Y. Mirror.
A Good Hit for a Youth. .
An old chap in Connecticut who was one of
the most niggardly men known in that part of
the country, carried on the blacksmithing bu
siness very extensively, and as is generally
the case in that State, boarded all his own
hands. And to show how he envied the men
what they ate he would have a bowl of bean
soup dished up for himself to cool while that
of the hands was set before them boiling hot.
One of the boys was rather unlucky among the
hot irons frequently burning his fingers. The
old man scolded him very severely one day
for being so careless.
How can I tell," said the boy, "if they arc
hot unless they are red?"
"Never touch anything again untij yon spit
on it and if it dont hiss it won't burn.
In a day or two the old man sent the boy to
see if his soup was cool. The boy .went in
spit in the bowl; of course the soup did not
hiss. He went back and told the boys all was
right.
'Dinner !" cried he. ...
All hands ran : down sat the man at the head
of the table, and in went a large spoonful of
the boiling soup to his mouth.
"Good neavens !" cried the old man, in a
rage, "what did yon tell me that lie for, you
young rascal ?"
"I did not lie, sir," said the boy, "You told
me I should spit on everything to try if it was
hot ; 1 spit in your bowl, and the soup did not
hiss, so I supposed it was cool."
Judge of the effects on the journeymen.
That boy was never in want of a friend among
the journeymen.
Mr. Clapp's Soliloquy. :
Another girl.r
"What can Mrs. Clapp be
thinking of? I ta perfectly ridiculous ! There's
four of them now, -and' that's four more than is
necessary. I don't, believe in girls, lovers
andlacet, ringlets and romances, jewelry and
jump-ropes, silk and satins. What's to bo
done ? There's a whole chest full of my old.
coats I've been saving to make my boys jack
ets. I wish Mrs. Clapp would think as I do.
Another girl! Who's to keep the name in
the family, I'd like to know ? I shall be ex
tinct! And now she wants me. to put up a "
note in the church for "blessings received!"
Mrs. Clapp has a very obstinate streak in
her disposition in this respect. It's wasting
powder to reason with her. : It seems to go in
to one ear and out at the other. If she gets
going on one particular track, you must just
fold your arms and let her take her time to
get off it. She knows I prefer boys, that wo
man does, just as well as she knows her name
is Hetty. Well, there's a limit to human pa
tience. It's no use for a man to pretent to be
master of his own house when he is'nt. Fan
ny Fern. - - -
A Dutchman's Description of a Kalxt
Night-- "Veil,-last Friday - night vash the
vorst ash never vash. I tought to go down
the hill to mine house, but no sooner I did
valk dan de faster I stand still, for de tarkness
vash so tick dat I could not stir it me poots
and de rain, dunder and blixen, in more dan
tree minutes mine skin yas vet troo to mine '
clo's. But after von vila it, stopt quittjn' to
ran soraeting; so I kept feeling of mincself all
de vay long, and ven d comes to mine own
house to valk in, vat you tink ? mine Got ! it
pelong to somepody else'
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