If, ! ' """""
COME AND TAKE JIE. Dcvivier.
VOL. 1.
CLEAEEIELD, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1854.
NO. 18-
RAFTSMAN'S JOURNAL.
' Bex. Jones. Publisher.
Tor. annum, (payable in advance.) . . SI "0
If paid within the year. 1 50
After the expiration of the year. 2 00
No paper discontinued until all arrearages are
paid.
A failure to notify a discontinuance at the expi
ration of the term subscribed for, will be consider
ed a new engagement.
BT REQUEST.
Is it Anybody'! Business 1
The members of the "Mind-your-own-bnsiness
Society" propose for consideration the following
QrERIES.
Is it anybody's business
If a gentleman should choose
. , To w;.'t upon a lady,
If the lady don't refuse?
Or, to speak a little plainer,
That tho meaning all may know,
Is it anybody's business
If a lady has a beau?
Is it anybody's business
"When that gentleman does call,
Or when he leaves the lady,
Or if ho leaves at all?
Or is it necessary
That the curtain should he drawn
To save from further trouble
The outside lookers on ?
Is it anybody's business
But the lady's, if her beau
Rides out with other ladies,
And does'nt let her know?
Is it anybody's business
But the gentleman's, if she
Should accept another escort,
Where he does'nt chance to be ?
If a person on the side-walk,
Whether great or whether email,
Is it anybody's business .
Where that person means to call ?
Or, if yon see a person
As he's calling anywhere,
Is it any of your business
: What his business may be there ?
The substance of our quary,
Simply stated, would bo this
Is it anybody's business
What another's business is ?
If it is, or if it isn't,
We would really like to know,
For we're certain if it isn't,
There are some who make it so
If it is, we'll join the rabblo,
And act the noble part
Of tho tattlers and defamers
Who thronh the public mart;
JBut if not, we'll act the teacher,
Until everybody learns
- It were better in tho future
To mind his own concerns.
(Driginnl 3Hornl Cnle.
WRITTEN FOR TI1E JOURNAL.
the
& w?7fr m & mm it
:o:
COPTRIGUT SECURED.
CHAPTER V.
Continued from last trerfr.
Valencia was completely overpowered, and
sat gazing in silent astonishment at the pale
face, and wild, glaring eyes of her daughter.
: '-Confound the man ! What docs he mean!"
said Marcus to himself, as he slowly and thot'
f ally found hi3 way along the dark streets
In the direction of the Tiber, his face swollen
with surprise and chagrin.
''lie thinks, perhaps, I've not enough of no
ble blood in my veins. But am I not the son
of as brave a general as ever commanded the
armies of Rome, and on whose brow the Em
peror's own hands, more than once, placed the
victor's crown. And does not the son inherit the
father's virtues ? Stop perhaps now I offend
ed him with what I said about the christians
But he's no christian himself, and must hate
them as much as I do. And then, there is
Valdinus and Vertitia zealous worshipers of
the Gods, and could see the cursed sect burnt
to ashes. And they are a cursed sect, and by
the Gods of Rome, this arm of Marcus' shall
spend its strength in their annihilation," said
he, giving the earth a stamp with his foot.
: Thus he continued, railing in his thoughts
against the christians,almost forgetting Valens
and '. his family, till ho found himself at the
door of his quarters.
On the banks of the Tiber, at the distance
of qnarter-a-niile south of the Campus Martins,
stood a low, rude building, a hundred or more
feet in length. It was built substantially of
unbnrnt brick, and was destitute of all archi
tectural taste or ornament. Within, it was
simply divided into small rooms or apartments,
with thin partitions or walls of brick running
cross-wise.
.. . This was the quarters of the inferior officers
belonging to the Roman legion stationed with
in the walls of the City, and upon the steps in
front of one of the doors of which, Marcus now
stood, his brows knit, and his lips curled with
indignation. Having abruptly entered, and
closed the door, he threw himself upon an old
oaken bench. After a time he become more
composed, but not less indignant.
"May be, Valens is a christian after all," he
muttered to himself; "they're so secret in
their meetings, and so reserved in everything,
it's hard finding them out. But I'll find them
out. And 30 much the better if he is. Revenge
will be so much easier had; and revenge I will
have. Fool ! he shall see that rank and blood
aint going to shield him from the wrath of a
Roman officer who feels himself slighted and
insulted. " -
With feelings of revenge burning, Volcano
like, in his breast, Marcus sprung from his seat;
and as though he had his victim already in his
clutches, he began pacing his little apartment
with a fiendish sort of delight, while the im
plements of a military life lay in profusion
around him. .
"Bnt, Vcrtitia! gay and loving Vcrtitia !
Can Marcus prove thus recreant to thy plight
ed love ? I know thy heart is mine, though, a
father's whims may deny me thy hand;" and
Marcus threw himself again on the old bench
and burst into tears.
There is an affection so powerful, that it
readily expells all others from the breast, and
rules the minds of the sternest men with infi
nite ease. Though, when absent, the basest
and most malignant passions may fill up and
occupy its place, yet, soon as it returns, these
intruders flee aghast, and resuming its seat in
the heart it rules again the whole man with the
same mystertous and potent influence as form
erly. Its presence in the midst of the unruly
passions of the mind, is like oil poured upon
the turbuk nt waters of the deep. This is the
affection of a pure and ardent love; and not
even the rude, hardenedsoldier, or the stern
commander of armies can resist its allaying,
calming power.
So we see in the case of Marcus. The idol
of his heart had been lost sight of in the tu
multuous emotions that agitated his soul, but
the moment it returned again to his view, he
is sulnlued by its strange influence, and lies
weeping like a child, ashamed, yea, even
alarmed at his own cruel and perfidious
thoughts.
'But," said he, again springing to his feet,
"does not my honor as an officer in the army
demand it ?"
Just at this moment an intimate friend, and
an officer of the same rank with himself, hur
riedly entered. His face was red and glowing,
and large drops of sweat were standing pro
fusely on his forehead, while over his features
played a secret, heart-felt delight.
'Come, come !" said he to Marcus, "come
quickly-" !
"Why ; what's the matter ?"
"O, the best sport that's ever been seen in
Rome."
"What ! burning christians ?"
"Yes ; and I have just been helping for an
hour to pitch them into the flames. Only to
see how they writhe and torture, and scream,
and tumble about, and spring up and down, and
some of them leaping clean out again ! And
then the fun of catching them, and pitch
ing them back ! O, its worth all the gladiato
rial shows and fights you ever seen."
For the life of him, Marcus could not help
frowning, and casting a look of indignation at
his friend. Much as he thought the cursed
sect disserved death, yet he could not hear of
such a whole-sale destruction of life without
the most painful feelings. Hence turning round
and deliberately seating himself, he said :
"All burnt without ceremony, I reckon."
Xo,no!" said his friend, "the Emperor
graciously condescends to give them a trial.
He is now in the Forum hearing their cases ;
and as soon as half-a-dozen or so arc found
guilty, they are handed over to his officers
and guards, who drag them out, and pitch
them into the flames."
"But come ; make hast! It's grand sport, I
assure you," said his friend, growing rather
impatient.
"Rather monstrous sport," said Marcns,drily.
"But how does the Emperor find out that
they are christians," he inquired.
"Confess, or not confess; all the same
thing," replied his friend.
In a few moments Marcus, having put on his
officer's visor, and girt his short sword at his
side, was hurrying up the banks of the Tiber
with his eager and excited friend.
We shall not attempt at present to describe
the monstrous spectacle which these young of
ficers had gone to witness, and participate in.
It must suffice to say, that in the great square
in front of the Roman Forum, several large
fires had been kindled, and were kept amply
supplied with fuel by the Emperor's slaves.
Around these were congregated thousands of
boisterous,. drunken citizens, with hearts hard
ened into steel, and destitute of all the tender
feelings of a common humanity.
Every few minutes a company of soldiers
were seen forcing their way through the jeer
ing, laughing crowd, draging after them men
and women of all ages, and with horrid oaths
and curses, hurling them indiscrimately into
the flames, while their fervent prayers and dy
ing groans were drowned by the shouts of the
rabble multitude.
That night about one hundred of God's peo
ple were consigned to tho flames, and their bo
dies burnt to ashes; while their spirits, releas
ed from their frail tenements of clay, fled away
to that bright world of which they had often
dreamed, to be dressed in robes of white and
to join with the souls under the Altar in the
cry, "how Jong ; O Lord, how long ?"
Indeed the whole-sale work of death contin
ued till a late hour, and until the stench of
the consuming bodies became so intolerable
that all were obliged from necessity to disperse.
But we must return again to Valens and his
family.
"Why! what's the matter here ? said Valens,
as he re-entered the hall, and observed Vcrti
tia imploringly at her mother's feet.
"I guess she heard you say something to
Marcus that has distressed her," said Valen
cia ; at the same time turning away her head,
she burst into tears.
"I have only," said Valens, "exercised the
rights and duties of a Roman parent and chris
tian man. I supposed I had been sufficiently
explicit in stating my wishes a few evenings
ago, and that I should not have been under
the painful necessity of recurring to this mat
ter again."
"I wish my daughter to rise," he added,
"and listen to the counsels of a father who on
ly consults her happiness and the safety of his
family;" saying which he took Vcrtitia affec
tionately by the hand, and seated her at his
side.
"I trust," said Valens, after a few moment's
tilencc, "my daughter sufficiently understands
mo in this affair. In a union so lasting and in
timate as that which you now proposo to your
self, there should bo a perfect harmony of feel
ing, a oneness of sentiment as well as of heart,
in every thing pertaining either to the present
life or the life to come. Otherwise, such a
union must necessarily be productive of dis
cord and misery. A house divided against
itself cannot stand, or be the abode of domes
tic joys. Now Marcus is a Pagan, and wor
ships at the alters of her Gods ; you, my
daughter, if not now, I trust ere long, in an
swer to my own and your mother's prayers,
will worship the God of heaven, and rejoice
with us in the glory to come."
"Do you mean by that that I will become
one of your faith a Nazarene ?" said Verti
tia quickly.
"It's our heart's desire our earncst,constant
prayer," said Valens, with deep emotion.
"Never! no, never!" exclaimed the indulg
ed Vertitia, looking indignantly at her father,
"I'm of the same mind with Marcus, and I'll
worship with him at tho same altars ; and if
that's your reason for opposing my wishes, its
a needless one."
"My daughter Mill remember the respect
due to a parent," said Valens kindly, and yet
in a tone of voice that conveyed a smart re
proof. "Well, it's just as I tell you; I'll never be
a christian."
"There is an invisible agent," said Valens,
"goes along with our faith, and subdues the
will into a glad and cordial reception of it. It
brooded over the chaotic masses of an unfin
ished world, and by" its omnipotent touch
formed them into order and beauty : so doth it
come at its own pleasure, or at the request of
importunate prayer, and renew the disordered
elements of the soul, and spread over it the
beauty and freshness ot a new creation. In
the readiness, and the irresitable, effectual
working of this divine agency, is our hope.
"But if I am not willing; what then ?" in
quired Vcrtitia.
"Thou mayest bo made willing," said Va
lens. Vertitia seemed greatly alarmed at this, and
even terrified. Her feelings were all averse to
the new faith, and the thought of a power that
could subdue her into a willing reception of it,
caused her to tremble. And then the known
antipathy of Marcus to the christians, in con
nexionwith her own fondness for the pleasures
and gayeties of the world, had determined her
to turn a deaf ear to all the counsels of her pa
rents, and persue that course of life which she
had inconsiderately marked out for herself.
"But will not my daughter, in this affair, re
gard our personal safety. As I intimated be
fore a danger threatens us, and in fact, is now
upon us. I am a christian, and your mother
and sister are the same. Because of our faith
we arc vilified, proscribed, and charged with
the most monstrous crimes ; and even to-night
hundreds are suffering death, ostensibly at
least, for an act of which they are innocent be
fore heaven. Should our faith be discovered,
nothing can save us. Marcus might betray us:
and shall Vertitia, by her persistence in this
matter, be concerned in bringing upon us
such a calamity."
Valens made these remarks in a moving,
melting tone of voice, and with tears in his
eyes.
Vertitia sat for some minutes in silence at
his side, evidently in a great mental ogony;
when suddenly throwing her arms around his
neck, she impressed a fond kiss upon his cheek
and burst into tears.
They all wept. Nothing was heard for some
time but their sobs and sighs. Valen's eyes
were up-turned to heaven at length, in earnest
fervent supplication; while Vertitia's arms
still continued to encircle his neck in their
embrace.
To be Continued.
EE-One way to get on is to put up your
modesty and sell it to the lowest bidder. If
no ono will buy it, give it away, send it as a
gift to some asylum do anything with it but
keep it.
CF"Whiskey drinking was never known to
conduct wealth into a mans pocket, happiness
to his family, or respectability to his charac
ter. Therefore, whiskey is an non-condact or
and it ; w '.' ' -
The Priater Boy aad the Ambassador.
BY THE LATE GEORGE LIPPARD.
Genius in its glory genius on its eagle
wings-genitis soaring away there in the clouds!
This is a sight we often sec !
But genious in its work shop genius in its
cell genius digging away inthe dark minesof
poverty toil in the brain and toil in the heart
this is an everyday fact, yet a sight we do
not often see !
Let us for a moment look at the strange
contrast between Intellect standing there, in
the sunlight of Fame, with the shouts of mil
lions ringing in its ears, tho Intellect down
there in cold and night, crouching in the work
shop or in the garret, neglected, unpitied and
alone!
Let us for a moment behold two pictures,
illustrating The Great Facts Intellect in its
rags, and Intellect in its glory. t
The first picture has not much in it to strike
out lancy; here arc no dim cathedral aisles,
grand with fretted arch and towering pillars;
here no scenes of nature in her sublimity,
where deep lakes, bosomed in colossal cliffs,
dawn on your eye or yet, of nature's repose
when quiet dells, musical with the lull of wa
terfalls, breaking through the purple twilight,
steal gently in dream-glimpses upon yoursoul.
No! nere is but a picture of plain, rude toil
yes, hot, tired, dusty toil !
The morning sunshine is stealing thro'
the dim panes of an old window; yes, stealing
and struggling through those dim panes into
the recesses of yonder room. It is a strange
old room, the walls, cracked in an hundred
places, arc hung with cobwebs; the floors,
dark as ink, are stained with dismal black
blotches; and all around are scattered the evi
dences of some plain workman's craft heaps
of paper, little pieces of anatomy are scat
tered over the floor; and there in the light of
the morning sun, beside that window, stands
a young man of. some twenty years quite a
boy his coat thrown aside, his faded gar
ments covered with patches, while his right
hand grasps several of those small pieces of
antimony.
Why this is but a dull pictnr; a plain, sober
everyday fact.
Yet look again on that boy standing there in
the full light of t,he morning sun there is
meaning in that massive brow,shad6d by locks
of dark brown hair; there is meaning in that
full gray eye, now dilating as that young man
stands there alone in the old room
But what is this grim monster on which that
young man leans? This thing of uncouth
shape, built of massy iron, full of springs and
screws, and bolts; tell us the name of this
strange uncouth monster, on which that young
man rests his hand?
Ah! that grim old monster is a terrible
thing; a horrid phantom for disobedient priests
or traitor kings! Yes, that uncouth shape,
every now and then, speaks out words that
shake the world for it is a Printing Press !
And that vounz man standins there in a
rude garb, with the warm sunshine strcamin
over his bold brow that young man standing
there alone neglected unknown is a prin
ter boy; yes, an earnest son of toil, thinking
deep thoughts there in that old room, with its
dusty floor, and cobweb-huug walls.
Those thoughts will one day shake the
world!
Now let us look upon the other picture
Ah ! here is a scene full of Light, and Mu
sic, and romance.
We stand in a magnificent garden, musical
with, waterfalls, and youder, far thro' those ar
cades of towering trees, a massive palace
breaks up into the deep azure of night.
Let us approach that palace, with its thou
sand windows flashing with lights hark ! how
the music of a full band comes stealing along
this garden; mingled with the hum of foun
tains gathering in one burst' up into the dark
concave of heaven.
Let us enter this palace. Up wide stair
ways where heavy carpet give no echo to the
footfall up wide stairways through long cor
ridors, adorned with statues into this splen
did saloon.
Yes, a splendid saloon. Yon chandelier
flinging a shower of light over this array of
noble lords and beautiful women; on every
side the flash of jewelry, the glitter of em
broider; the soft mile gleam of pearls, raising
into light with the pulsation of fair bosoms
ah! this is indeed a most splendid scene.
And yonder far through the crowd of no
bility and beauty yonder, under folds of pur
ple tapestry, dotted with gold, stands the
throne, and on that throne is the King. '
That King, these courtiers, noble lords, and
proud dames, are all awaiting a strange spec
tacle. The appearance of an Ambassador
from an unknown Republic, far over the wa
ters. They are all anxious to look upon this
sti ange man, whose fame goes before him
Hark to those whispers; it is even said this
strange Ambassador of an unknown Republic
has called down the lightning from God's eter
nal sky.
No but this Ambassador will be something
very uncouth, yet it must be plain he will try
to veil his uncouthness in a splendid . court
dress.
The King, the courtiers are all on the tiptoe
of expectation. Why does not this magician
from the new world, this chainer of thunder
bolts, appear ?
Suddenly there is a murmer; the tinseled
crowd part on either side look ! he comes
the Magician, the Ambasscdor.
lie comes walking through that lane, whose
walls are beautiful women. Is he decked out
in a court dress? Is he abashed by the pres
ence of the King?.
Ah no! Look there, how the King stares in
surprise, as that plain man conies forwaad.
That plain man with the bold brow, the curl
ing locks behind his ears, and such odious
home made blue stockings upon his limbs.
Look there, and in that Magician that
chainer of the lightnings behold the Printer
Boy, of tho dusty room, stout hearted, true
soled, common sense, Bex jahix Fkaxklis.
And shall we leave these two pictures with
out looking at the deep moral they inculcate?
Without the slightest disrespect to the pro
fessions called learned, I stand here to-night
to confess that the great truth of Franklin's
life is the sanctity of toil.
Yes, that your true noblemen of God's ere.
ation, is not your lawyer, digging away among
must' parchments, not even your white cra
vatted divine but this man clad in coarse
garments of toil, comes out from the work
shop, and stands with the noonday sun upon
his brow, not ashamed to own himself a me
chanic! Ah! my friends, there is a world of meaning
in those pictures. They speak to the heart of
the universal man forever.
Here, the unknown Printer Boy standing at
his labor neglected, unknown; clad in a patch
ed garb, with the laborer's sweat upon his
brow; there, the man whom nations are proud
to claim as their own, standing as the Ambas
sador of a free people standing as a prophet
of the rights of man unawed in the presence
of Royality and gold!
Benjamin Franklin, in his brown coat, blue
stockings! mocking to shame the pomp of these
courtiers the glittering robes of yonder King.
Tne Indian Story.
The rapid growth of northern Illinois com
menced at the conclusion of the war of 1812
The log huts of the Indians suddenly disap
peared, the smoke of the wigw ams no longer
ascended towards the heavens.
The rapid improvements commenced by the
white man, had driven them into tho prairies,
and their wigwams were no longer pitched in
the vicinity of the towns, except when they
came to barter their furs for goods. The
music of the saw, axe and hammer had driven
the game far away.
The Indian's land cast of the Mississippi
had already been ceded to government by trea
ty, and the red men only dwelt there, by the
consent of government. When the Indians
went away, 1 went with them. I took up my
quarters at the head waters of theWisseba, at
the junction of two important streams, tribu
taries to the great father of waters, and open
ed my store for trade.
After exposing my goods, in all their Indi
an varieties, for some days, without any suc
cess in selling, I became almost discouraged,
and nearly concluded to give it up. The In
dians wculd come into my store by dozens,
and after examining my goods, go away with
out purchasing. They had plenty of shu-nc-ah
(money) and furs, but bought no goods,
and the reason was a mystery to me.
At length the chief of the nation came in
company with a crowd of Indians. He in
stantly exclaimed' 'How do, Thomas ? Come,
show me nice goods. What do you ask for
this? I'll take four yards of calico three
coon-skins for one yard half a dollar exact
ly by'iu by, to-morrow, I'll pay you.'
The next day he came, accompanied by his
whole band. His blanket above his waist was
stuffed with coon-skins. 'American I will
pay that bill now,' said the Indian.
Suiting the action to the word, he began to
pull tho skins from his blanket, and counting
out twelve, held the thirteenth in his hand,
and finally laid it upon the rest, exclaiming,
'That's it, exactly.'. I gave it back to him,
telling him he owed but twelve, and the Great
Spirit would not let me cheat him. We con
tinued to pass it back and forth, each one as
serting that it belonged to the other.
At last he appeared satisfied, and gave me a
scrutanizing look; then placing the skin within
the folds of his blanket, he stepped to the door,
and with a yell cried, 'Come! come in, all of
you, and trade with the pale face he's honest
he will not cheat the Indian, he believes in
the Great Spirit his heart is big, he is an
honest trader !'
He then turned to me, and said, If you had
taken that one coon skin, I and my people
would have had nothing to do with you, and
would have driven you away like a dog ; but
now I have found that you arc the Indian's
friend, and we shall be yours.'
The Indians then began flocking into the
store, and to trade, and before the sun had
gone down, I was waist deep in furs, and had
shu-ne-ah in plenty. That one, toon-skin
saved me.
E7"'Patrick, hereafter I want you to cow
mence work at 2 o'clock and quit at 7, Sure
and wouldn't it be as well if I'd commence in
the morning at 7 o'clock and leave off at 5 in
the evening ?'
The Last Theft. The most impudent and
expert achievement in the art of thieving
that we have lately heard of, was related to us
a few days since as follows: - - - - -
At a laborer's boarding house, where it is
customary, in warm weather, for the men to
leave their coats in the entry while at meals, a
thief took it into his head to make an incur
sion one day while all hands were busy at din
ner. Accordingly he reconnoitered the pas
sage way, saw a good variety of coats and
jackets, some new, some half worn, &c., all of
which he gathered into his arms, and care
lessly commenced making his exit. Just as
he was about to cross the threshhold, the man
of the house, who was late to dinner, arrived
at the door.
"What are you doing with these coats?'
cried the landlord.
"I'm taking them to my shop, sir."
"And what for."
"The gentlemen want to get era scoured,
sir," replied the thief.
"O, then, if that's all," said the landlord,
"I believe my coat wants scouring, and you
may take it along too."
So saying he doffed his garment, handed it
over to the thief and proceeded to his dinner.
The surprise of the boarders, when they
went to don their habiliments, and the confu
sion of the landlord in giving his statement,
may well be imagined.
Natioxal Peculiarities. The Bohemians
of the middling and the poorer classes have
certainly less sincerity and straightforward
ness than their neighbours. An anecdote is
related illustrative of the slyness of the Bohe
mians, compared with the simple honesty of
the German, and the candid unscrupulousness
of the Hungarian. During the latc,war, three
soldiers, of each of these three nations, met
in the parlor of a French inn, over the chim
ney piece of which hung a watch. When they
had gone, the German said:
" That is a good watch; I wish I had bought
it."
"I am sorry I did not take it" said the Hun
garian. "I have it in my pocket," said the Bohemi
an. A Lesson for the Girls. My pretty little
dears you are no more fit formatrimony than
a pullet is to look after a family of fourteen
chickeus. The truth is, my dear girls, you
want, generally speaking, more liberty and
less fashionable restraint, more kitchen and
less parlor, more leg exercise and less sofa,
more making puddings and less piano, more
frankness and less mock-modesty, more break
fast and less bustle. I like the buxon, bright
ej-cd, rosy -cheeked, full-breasted, bouncing
lass, who can darn stockings, make her own
frocks, mend trowsers, command a regiment
of pots and kettles, milk the cows, feed the
pigs, chop the wood, and shoot a wild duck as
well as the Duchess of Marlborough or the
Queen of Spain; and be a lady withal in the
drawing room. Mrs. Ellis' Lectures.
A Great Eater. When Prague was be
sieged by the Twcdes, under Charles X, a very
great glutton cat, in the presence of the king
a hog alive! . .
General Konigsmark was also a spectator:
this veteran officer told the king, the fellow
was a sorcerer, and that it was by inchautment
and description he appeared to eat what In
fact, he did not. The operator being nettled
at the general's increduality, told the prince,
that "if he would commaed his officer to take
off his boots and spurs, ho would eat him,"
which so terrified Konigsmark, that he retired
with great precipitancy, choosing rather to
put up with a little confusion, than be con
vinced, at so dear a price,of the goodness of
this fellow's appetite.
C?"Our Jim, of the Boston Post, perpetra
ted the following on the marriage of Thomas
Hawk of Mansfield, to Miss Sarah J. Dove:
It is not often that you see
So queer a kind of love;
0 what a Savage he mnst be
To Tommy-IIawL a Dove.
A Good Oxe. "My dear, what shall wc
name our baby?" said Mr. Smith to Mrs.
Smith the other day.
"Why huz, I've settled on Peter."
"Peter! Good Lord, I never, knew a man
with the simple name of Peter who could earn
his salt."
"Well, then, we'll call him Salt Peter."
HFA person alllicted with stammering be
ing advised to take starch, in order that he
might be clearly understood, took ;it itt such
large quantities that he became so stiff ho
could neither get his hands into his pockets nor
walk round a corner, and was obliged to have
his back bone taken out, to enable him to get
his boots off.
K-'Ofy son," said an old lady, "how must
Jonah have felt when the whale swallowed
him?"
"A little down in the mouth, 1 suppose,"
was the young hopeful's reply.-
OThc Boston Bee states that a few drops
of peppermint, scattered upon the pillow w ill
drive away mosquetoes
B-What men want is not talent, it is pur
posein other words not the power to achieve
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