u u BY S. B. EOW. CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23, 1859. VOL. 5. WO. 30: TO-DAY ASD TO-MOBBOW. by charLes mackat. If fortune, with a smiling face, Strew roses on our way, When shall we stop to pick them up ? To day, iny love ! to-day ! But should she frown with face of care, And tale of coming sorrow, When shall we grieve, if grieve we must? To-morrow, love '. to-morrow ! If those who've wronged ug own their faults, And kindly pity pray, When shall we listen and forgive? To-day, my lovo ! to-day ! Ililt if stern justice urge rebuke, And warmth from memory borrow, When shall we chide, if chide we dare ? To-morrow, love ! to-morrow ! If lovo, estranged, should once again Her genial smilo display, When shall we kiss her proffered lips? To-day, my love! to-day ! But if she would indulge regret, Or dwell with by-gone sorrow, When shall w weep, if weep we must? To-morrow, love ! to-morrow ? For virtuous acts and harmless joy The minutes will not stay ; We've always time to welcome them To-day, my love ! to-day ! I5ut care, resentment, angry words, And unavailing sorrow, Come far too soon, if they appear To-morrow, love ! to-morrow ! A SLIGHT MISTAKE : AND WHAT GREW OUT OF IT. One cool afternoon, in the early fall, I Chester F. LeKoy, a gentleman stood on the platform of the Albany depot, watching the procession of passengers just arrived in the Hudson river boat, who defiled past me on their way to the cars. The Boston train, by which I had come, waited patiently as steam and fire might, for thoir leisure, with only occasional and feint snorts of remonstrance at the delay ; yet still the jostling crowd hurried past into the cars, and flitted through them in search of seats. Their increasing numbers at length warned me that I might find it difficult to re gain my own, and I followed them. 'I beg your pardon, sir." I turned, in obedience to a touch on my arm, and saw a respectable-looking negro man before me, who bore the traveling bog and bawl, and was, evidently, the attendant of a lender and stj-Iish young girl behind him. "Do I speak," he said, bowing respectfully, and glancing at the portmanteau I carried, on which my surname was quite legible, "do I address, sir, Mr. LeKoy " ''That is my name at your service what can I do for you ?" The young lady, whose dark blue eyes had leen scanning me, as I could perceive through her blue silk veil, now lifted it with an exquis itely gloved little hand, and extended the oth er to me, with a charming mixture of frank ness and timidity. I am very glad to meet yon, Mr. LeRoy," said she. "I thought I should know you in a moment, Jenny described you so accurately. How kind it was ot you to ofTur to take charge uf me. I hope I shan't trouble you." In the midst of my bewilderment at being thus addressed by the sweetest voice in the world, 1 managed to see that I must make a proper reply, and proceeded to stammer out what I thought an appropriate speech, when the servant who had left us for a moment, re turned, and I abandoned it unfinished. 'Did you see my baggage, Edward ?" asked Lis mistress. "Yes, Miss ; it is all on." "Then you had better hurry to reach the seven o'clock boat. Good-bye, and tell them yon saw me safely off." I stood like one in a dream, while the man lianded me two checks for the trunks, and en dued me with the light baggage he had car tied; but I was aroused by the young lady asking me if we had not better secure our seats in the cars, and answered by offering her my arm. In ten minntes we were seated side by side, and trundling out of Albany at a rate that grow faster and taster. I had now time to reflect with that lovely face opposite me, but where was the use. Some strange mistake had undoubtedly hap pened, and I had evidently been taken for another person of the same name ; but how to remedy this now, without alarming the In nocent young lady in my charge, how to find the right iusb, with the right name, among several hundred people, and how to transfer her, without an unpleasant scene and explana tion, to fho care of some one whose person was no less strange to her than mine ! While these thoughts whirled through my head, I happened to encounter those smiling eyes fixed upon me, and tfceir open, unsuspicious gaze decided me- l will not trouble or dis tress her, by any knowledge of her position," I concluded, "but willjustdomy best to fill the place of the individual ske took me lor, and conduct her wherever she wished to go, if I can only find where it Is!" I turned to her w ith an cfl'ectation of ease, which I was very far from feeling, and said, "It is a long journey." "Do you tlifek so 1 But it is very pleasant, isn't it ? Cousin Jenny enjoyed it so much !" "Ah, indeed ! "Why, what a queer man !" she said, with a little laugh. "Does she never tell you as she docs me in all her letters, how happy she is, and that St. Louis is the sweetest place in the world to livo in ? Dear me ! that I should have to tell her own husband first. How we shall laugh about it when we get there." So it waa to St. Louis we were going, and I was her cousin's husband. I never was so thankful for two pieces of information in my Me. "And how does Jenny look ? and what is he doing 1 and how is my dear Aunt Bcnian do tell me the news !" "Jennie," said I, mustering courage and words, "is the dearest little wife in the world, you must know, only far too fond of her scamp of a husband as to her looks, you can't ex pect me to say anything, for she always looks lovely to me." "Bravo !" said the pretty girl, with a mali cious smile ; "but about my dear Aunt's rheu matism 1" "Miss, I mean, of course, Mrs. Bcman is very well." "Well!" said my fair questioner, regarding me with surprise, "I thought she had not been well tor a number of years !" "I mean well for her," said I, in some tre pidation ; "the air of St. Loins," (which I have since learned, is of the misty moisty or der) has done her a world of good. Sbo is quite a different woman." "I am very glad," said her ncice. She re mained silent for a few moments, and then a gleam of amusement began to danco in her bright eyes. "To think," said she, suddenly turning to me with a musical laugh, "that in all tbi time you had not once mentioned the baby." I know I gave a violent start and I think I turned pale. Alter 1 had run the gauntlet ot all these questions triumphantly, as I thought, this new danger stared me in the face. How was I ever to describe a baby, who had never noticed one ? My courage sank below zero, but in some proportion the blood tose to my face, and I think my teeth fairly chattered in my head. "Don't be afraid that I shall not sympathise in your raptures," continued my tortnenfer, as I almost considered her. "1 am quite pre pared to believe anything after Jennie's letter you should see how she cares for him." "Ilim !" Blessed goodness, then it must be a boy .' "Of course," said I, blushing and stammer ing, but feeling it imperative to say something, "we consider him the finest fellow in the world ; but you might not agree with us, and in order to leave your judgment unbiassed, I shall not describe him to you." "Ah! but I know just how ho looks, for Jennie had no such scruples so you may spare yourself the trouble or happiness, which ever it is but tell me what you mean to call him?" "We have not yet decided upon a name," I replied. "Indued ! I thought she meant to give him yours ?" "The deuce she did!" thought I. "No," I remarked, "one of a name i enough in a fam ily." The demon of inqtiisitiveness that, to my thinking, had instigated my fair companion, heretofore, now ceased to possess her, for we talked of various indifferent things, and i had the relief of not being compelled to draw ou my imagination at the expense of my con science, when I gave the particulars of my re cent journey from Boston. Yet, I was far from feeling at ease, for every sound of her voice startled me with a dread ot fresh ques tions, necessary, but impossible to be answer ed, and I felt a guilty flush stealing up my temples every time I met the look of those beautiful blue eyes. It was late when we stopped for supper, and soon after I saw the dark fringes ot my fair companion's eyes droop long and olten, and began to realize that she ought to be asleep. I knew perfectly well that it was my duty to ofler her a resting place on my shoulder, but I hardly had courage to ask that innocent face to lie on my arm, which was not as she tho't it, that of a cousin and a married man. Ke collecting, however, that it was my duty to make her comfortable, and that I could scarce ly deceive her more than I had already done, I profTercd the usual civility. She slight ly blushcd, but thanked me, and accepted it by leaning her head slightly against my shoul der, and looking up into my eyes with a smile, said, "As you are my cousin." Soon after, her eyes closed and she slept sweetly and calmly, as if resting in security and peace. I looked down at tha beautiful faco, slightly paled with fatigue, that rested against me, and felt like a villain. I dared not touch her with my arm, although the bouuding of the cars jostled her very much. 1 sat remorselessly until the sleeper settled the matter by slipping forward and awakening. She opened her eyes instantly, and smiled. "It is no use for me to try to sleep with my Itonnct on," she said; "lor it is very much in the way for me, and I am sure it troubles yon." So she removed it, giving me pretty little toy, with its grace ful ribbons and flowers, to put on the rack a bove us. I preferred to hold it, telling her it would be safer with me, and after a few objec tions she resigned it. being in truth too sleepy to contest the point ; then tying the blue silk veil over her glossy hair, she leaned against my shoulder and slept again. This time, when the motion began to shako and annoy her, I stifled the reproaches of my consciecce, and passing my arm lightly round her slender waist, drew her upon my breast, where she lay all night. She slept the sleep of innocence, serene and peaceful, but I need not say that I could not close my eyes or case my conscience. I could only gaze down on the beautiful, still face, and imagine how it would confront me, if she knew w hat I was, and bow I had deceiv ed her, t dreaming more wildly still, repro duce it in a hundred scenes which I had never before paused to imagine as the face ot my icie. I had never loved, unless the butterfly loves of Saratoga and Newport might be so dignified, and still less had I ever dreamed or thought of marrying, even as a possibility and far-ofl contingency. Never before, I solemn ly aver, had I seen the woman whom I wished to make my wife never before had I so longed to call anything my own, as I did that lovely face lying on my heart! No, it was impossi ble for me to sleep. In the morning we reached Buffalo.and spent the day at Niagara., If I had thought her love ly while sleeping, what was she when the light of feeling and expression played over her (ace, as she eloquently admired the scene before ns, or was even more eloquent still. I do not think I looked at the Cataract as much as I looked at her, or thought the one creation more beautiful than the other. She was now quite familiar with me, in her innocent way, calling me "cousin Frank," and seeming to take a certain pleasure in my soci ety and protection. It was delightful to bo greeted so gladly with her, when I entered the hotel parlor, to have her come forward from the lonely seat where she had been waiting, not unobserved or unnoticed, to receive me to have her hang on my arm look up into my face tell me all her little adventures alone.and chide me for leaving her so long, (how long it seemed to me,) while every word,' look, and smile, seemed doubly dear to me, because I knew the precarious tenure by which I held my right to them. She busied herself, too, while I was gone out, w ith our joint baggage, and rummaged all over her trunks to find a book which I had expressed a desire to see she mended my gloves, sewed the band on my traveling cap, and lound my segar case when ever I had lost it, which was about twenty times a day, which she declared almost equal led her own. Long ago she had given . over into my possession her elegant port-nionaie, "with all ber money in it, which.he was sure she would lose, as she could never keep any thing " and as she had ordered me to take out what 'was wanted for her travelling. expenses, I opened it with trembling hands when I was alone, and examined the contents. There were, besides all the bank bills with which she had probably been furnished for her jonrney, and which, with pious care, she had packed into the smallest possible compass, as much gold as her pretty toy could carry, a tiny pearl ring, too small to tit any fingers but hers which I am afraid I kissed a card with her name on it, and a memorandum in a pretty hand, "No. Olive street, St. Louis," which, as I rightly conjectured, was the residence of her cousin Jennie whose husband I was ; a ve ry fortunate discovery for me. Indeed, thus far, I had not yet found the way of the trans gressor hard, in external circumstances at least, and when with her I forgot everything but her grace and beauty, and my firm resolu tion to be no more to her than her cousin should be ; but out of that charmed presence my conscience made me miserable. I am afraid I must sometimes have betray ed the conflicts of feeling I had, by my man ner ; but when 1 was reserved and ceremonious Yh'th her, she always resented it, and begged me so bewitch ingly not to treat her so, and to call her by her sweet name. "Florence," that had I dreaded as much as I longed to do it, I could not have refused her. But the con sciousness that I was not what she thought me, but an iniposter, of whom,. after our con nection had ceased, and she had discovered the deception practiced upon her, she could think or remember nothing that would not cause unmerited self-reproach and mortifica tion, all innocent and trusting as she was, this reflection, more than any other, I confess, and the knowledge of the estimation in which she would forever hold Die, after my imposition was discovered, agonized me, and I would have given all I possessed to own it to her and leave her sight at once, though the thought of never seeing her more was dreadful. But that could not be. At lajt wo reached St. Louis. Do I say "at last?" When the sight of those spires and gables warned me that my brief dream of hap piness was over, and that the remorseful re flections I had been staving of! so long were now to commence in earnest, the thought of coming banishment from Florence was dread ful to me, and the time seemed to fly on light ning wings as it drew nearer. She was all gay ety, and astonished at my sadness and absence of mind when so near home and Jennie, and when wo entered the carriage that was to cou vey us to our destination, I hud half a mind to take a cowardly flight, rather than encoun ter the scorn and disappointment of those blue eyes; but I mustered courage and followed her in, giving the address found in the port monnaie, which, fortunately, was the right one, to the driver. "Almost home !" said she, turning her bright face towards me we were rattling up she street and my time was short "how can you be so cool and quiet?" "Because, Miss Florence," I answered "the time has come in which I must conicss to you that I have no more right in the home to which we are hastening, than the name by which you address me, and that my only claim to either, is that of an imposter and deceiver." She turned her lovely face, wondering and puzzled, towards me. Thank Heaven, I did not yet read tear and aversion in it. "No right ! no claim !" she rcpated ; "what can you mean 1 told her, frankly and fully the whole truth, nearly as I have set it down here, denying nothing, and concealing nothing, not even the useless secret of my love for her. When the brief recital was ended, we both remained silent, but although she bad hidden her face, I could sec that she trembled violently with shame and repulsion. The sight of her dis tress was agony to me, and 1 tried to say a few words ot apology. 'You cannot blame me or hate me, Miss Dundard, more than I hate or blame myself," I said, "for the distress I have so unwilling ly caused you. Heaven knows that if I ac cepted the charge of so much innocense and beauty too lightly, I have heavily atoned since, in having occasioned this suffering to you, and my own punishment is greater than I can bear." The coach stopped as I spoke ; she turned towards me eagerly, her face bearing traces of tsars, and said, in a low voice, "Do not misunderstand mo, if I was so silent." The coachman threw open tho door, and stood waiting. I was obliged to descend and to assist her out. I hardly dared touch that little hand, though it was for the last time, but I watched her graceful figure with sad dis tress. She was already recognized, lor the door ot the handsome house before which she stopped was thrown open, and a pretty woman followed by a fine-looking, black-whiskered gentleman, whom I supposed to be my name sake, rushed down the steps. There were loud exclamations of astonishment and pleasure, a cordial welcome, and some rapid questions to which Florence returned very low and quiet answers, and quickly extricating herself from the confusion, presented me as "Mr. Le Koy, your husband's namesake, and the gentleman who kindly took charge of me." I glanced at her face to see if she was mocking me; but it was pale and grave. Mrs. LeKoy opened her pretty eyes widely, but was too well bred to express surprise, and after introducing me to her husband in the same terms, invited me into the house. Hardly conscious ot what I did, or anything, except that I was still in the presence of Florence, from whom I could not bear to banish myself, I followed them into a handsome parlor, where sat an old lady, who my conscience told me was the rheumatic aunt I had so cruelly belied. Florence herself presented me to this lady, who was a fixture, and unable to rise from her chair, and before I could stammer an apology and retire, related in her own way (how different from mine) the mistake by which she had been placed in my care, and the history of our journey, in which it appeared our host, Mr. Le Koy, had been a fellow passenger. When she had ended, they all crowded about me, warmly expressing their thanks for my "kindness and consideration," to my utter bewilderment and surprise, and cordially invited me to remain with them, and make the acquaintance of my namesake and family. I detached myself from all this un expected kindness as soon as I could, for I fancied 1 read aversion in the flushing and paling face, and drooping eyes of Florence, and with one last look at her, I left the room, A moment after, I felt the touch of a light' hand on my arm, and turning; saw, with mnte surprise, that she had followed me into the vestibule. "Mr. Le Roy," she said, hurriedly, "I can not let you go away misunderstanding me, as I see you do. If I was silent while you hum bly apologized for tho noble, generous, and honorable delicacy of your conduct, it was not from anger, believe me, but because I was at first too much astonished, afterwards too much moved and grateful to speak. I owe you more than I can say, and should be mis erable, indeed, if a falso shame, which you see has not prevented my telling you this, should prevent you from continuing an ac quaintance so strangely begun. Trust me, sir, I speak the truth." I don't know what answer I made, for the revulsion of my feeling was almost too great for words, and the rapture of knowing, as I looked down upon that lovely face that it was not for the last time, quite took away the lit tle sense I had remaining. If you want to know how I felt, ask a man who is going to be hung, how he would feel to be reprieved. Well, how time flies ! It certainly does not seem five years since all this happened, yet cousin Jenny, (my cousin Jenny, now,) so bit terly reproaches us in her last letter for not visiting ber in all that time that we have again undertakhn the journey, but under diflerent auspices, since Florence is Florence Dundard no more, and sleeps on my arm in the cars no more blushingly, but with the confidence of a wile of i.early five years' standing, and I re gister our names in the hotel book, as "Mr. and Mrs. Le Roy," and bless my lucky stars, as I read it over. Even while I write, Flor ence, lovelier than ever, as I think, makes a grand pretence of arranging our baggage at the hotel where we stop, (and which has re minded me, by past transactions, to write down this story,) or comes leaning over me to call me "dear Chester," instead ot "dear cousin Frank," as five years before, and to scold me for being so stnpid as to sit and write, instead of talking with her. Stupid, indeed, to pre fer a black pen to those rosy lips. Was ever a man so happy in a "Slight Mistake 7" MBS. EUEDELL AGAIN. A New York correspondent writes : "Mrs. Cunningham, whilom of Burdell murder case notoriety, is once more in public presence. She seems, unfortunately, destined never to keep satisfactorily out of it. This time she is out in a Card menacing the Evening Post with a suit, lor libel ! The Post has been pub lishing, for some little period, a series of sin gular revelations, purporting to be those of a gentleman who, for personal amusement, has been answering the various advertisements for "husbands wanted" in the daily newspa pers, and making love to the various feminine candidates for nuptial honors in the "matri monial agency" departments of New York. In one of his most thrilling articles this gen tleman disclosed the fact of his meeting a lady who professed to bo charmed with him. After sundry rendezvous at a convenient es tablishment, she professed a readiness to de part with him to the South and live with him in any capacity ; and, as he had a severe ca tarrh, insisted on making him a curative "punch," which he declined to drink, as drug ging beverages is a common feat of the un scrupulous in this vicinity. Finally, as he displayed a tempting roll of bills, her cupidi ty overcame her discretion ; she seized him by the throat, threw him into a chair, and attemp ted to choke him senseless. Although a man of powerful physique, ho avers that her strength astonished, and for a moment over came him. Exerting all his energy, he at last threw her off; and, rushing down stairs, escaped from the house. Once in the street, where a Iriend was waiting for him, he conclu ded to ascertain who this female bandit could be ; and after a time, had the satisfaction of seeing ber emerge and get into a stage. His friend got into some vehicle, left it when she did, and, following her unobserved to her own house, ascertained that she was no less a per sonage than the psetido mother or the Burdell baby, the notorious Mrs. Cunningham." Dog Tkaixs ox the Lakes. A letter from Bay county, Michigan, thus describes the dog trains on the Lakes, by which the mails are carried during the winter months : "We have, during the close of navigation, what we call the dog mail,' and, by the by, I will de scribe to you how our mail is carried in this new and wild country. The route is from Sa ginaw city to Green Bay or Mackinaw, by land. The contract is taken by half-breeds, French and Indian, hardy, athletic men. They have the thing so arranged that one train of dogs leave each end of the route every week. That gives all the offices on the bay shore a mall a week each way. The train is composed of from four to six large dogs, harnessed in sin gle file, and attached to what they call a 'trance.' This is a kind of dray, some seven feet long and about fifteen inches wide, turned up before, so that it will run easily over the snow, on which they bind their mail-bags first, then their blankets, snow-shoes, provisions, hatchets, &c. They are prepared to camp at night wherever darkness overtakes them. There are generally two men and six dogs to each train. They feed their dogs on dry corn meal and tallow. Their mail, baggage, Scc. make up quite a load, which the dogs seem to draw w ith much case and speed. This mail continues only during the close of navigation." The Human Thermometer. The marvelous balance between supply and loss exhibited by the human organism, and indeed by that of most warm-blooded animals, may be best seen in the following facts: Our temperature is 93 deg., and this is the standard, no matter what may be the external heat. In the trop ics, the thermometer during several hours of the day is 110 deg. In British India it is sometimes as high as 130 deg. In the Arctic zones it has been observed by our voyagers as low as 90 deg-, and even 102 deg. bekw freez ing point. Nevertheless, amid such exten sive variations of tho external temperature, that of the human organism has but slightly varied, and a thermometer placed under tho tongue of an Arctic voyager will show the same degree of beat as one under the tongne of a soldier before the walls ol Delhi. Black wood. A young lawyer at Philadelphia wrote to an old limb, near Chicago, thus : "Is there an opening in your part of the conntrv that f can get into ?" To which the latter replied : "There is an opening in my back yard, about thirty feet deep, no curb around it." The bill Tor raising postage, which had pass ed the TJ. S. Senate, was defeated in the Souse, before the final adjournment. NOTES OK THE ROSE. Undoubtedly the most neglected and ill used Dart of the human face is the nose, ine po etical literature of all nations extols the other features; the eyes, for instance, have furnish ed a theme for the most sublime poetry ; cheeks, w ith their witching dimples and cap tivating tints, have drawn forth some of the finest similes that were ever invented. The raptures that have been indited concerning lips, it would take an age to enumerate. The hair, also, has from time immemorial, been in tensified with "silken tresses," in printed as well as manuscript verses ; sonnets to a mis tress's eyebrows are of continual occurrence, but it may be safely averred, that in the uni versal anthology of civilized or uncivilized man, there is not to be found a truly sentimen tal effusion to a nose ! Indeed, so far from exciting any ot the graver emotions of the mind, it would appear that there is a some thing in that feature to deaden rather than to excite sentiment. The cheeks, whether pale with care or red with blushing, strongly ex cite the sympathies; a glance of the eye is all powerful in calling up the most vivid emo tion ; but who ever remembered any very In tense feeling being awakened by a twitch of the nose 1 On the contrary, that unfortunate feature seems to have been especially appro priated by humorists to cut their jibes upon. It has, from the earliest ages, been made the subject of disparaging and sportive remarks. It has been set up as a mark to be hit by ridi cule as a butt for the arrows of satire: as if it were an organ proper to be played upon by nothing but wit. We may grow eloquent con cerning eyes, speak raptures of lips, and even sentinientalizu upon chins, but the bare men tion of the nasal promoutary is certain to ex cite a smile. - Yet the augurs of old went so far as to judge of a man's character by his nose ; and it is probably by reason ot this connexion of the external nose with the internal characteristics, that so many proverbs and axioms have taken rise in reference to both. Thus, the French say of a clever man, that he has a '-fine nose ;" of a prudent one, that his is a "good nose ;" of a proud man, that "he carries bis nose in the air." An inquisitive person is said "to poke his nose everywhere." A gourmand is described as always "having his nose iu his plate ;" that of the scholar is declared to be always is his books. When an individual is growing angry under provocation, the French say "the mustard rises in his nose." Nor are we deficient in similar sayings. A man, for instance, who does not form any decisive o pinions who is swayed more by the persua sions of others than by his own judgment, is described as being "led by the nose." Indi viduals not blessed with much acuteness or forethought, are said "not to see beyond their nose." Others, who to do some mjurv to an enemy, injure themselves, are declared to "cut off the nose to spite tho face." Tho condi tion of a supplanted rival is described as that of a person who "has had his nose put out of joint." All of these, it will be observed, are of a comic cast; while every simile and allu sion made to the eyes, the brow, and the other features, is of the most serious and poetic character. Certain noses have, however, been celebrated in history, not as matters for jest, but as distinguishable features belonging to great men. The Romans had a proverb which signifies "it is not given to every one to have a nose," meaning that it was not the good for tune of all to exhibit a marked and precise na sal individuality to have, in fact, an expres sive nose. As a matter of taste and ornament, the nose has engaged the attention and researches of authors and artists in a prominent degree. It has been truly remarked that the nose is a centre around which tho other portions of the lace are arranged and harmonized. Many eel ebrated artists estimate that its length should be a third the length of the face, from the tip ot the chin to the roots of the hair. If them be any deviation from this rule, it must, it wonld appear, be in excess, for all nnite in prefering large to diminutive noses. Plato called the Aquiline the royal nose ; and it is evident from their works, that none of the an cient masters of sculpture and painting con sidered a liberal allowance ot noso as a defor mity. Even in a physical point of view, this excess appears to be tar from detrimental. "G ive me," said Napoleon, "a man with a good allowance of nose. Strange as it may appear, when I want any good head-work done, I choose a man provided his education has been suitable with a long nose. His breath ing is bold and free, and his brain, as well as his lungs and heart, cool and clear. In my observations of men, I have, almost invaria bly found a long nose and long bead together." Like this great General, the ancients enter tained a marked preference for the ample nose ; but all beauty is relative, and taste as capricious and varying as the winds. Historical Facts. The Greeks had little or no notion of butter, and the early Romans used it only as a medicine never as food ; so that it is comparatively a modern article of diet. The first book ever printed was the book of Psalms, by Faust and Schaeffer, in 1457. It was printed on one side only of the leaves, which were, in binding, pasted back to back. Among the Romans, all men of f ull age were obliged to marry, and it is even a modern law of England which inflicts a fine on all bache lors in the kingdom, of 25 years and over. The piano lorte was invented by J. G. Schroder, of Dresden, in the year 1717, du ring which year he presented a model ot his invention to the court of Saxony. They im mediately became popular. The largest and oldest chain bridge in the world is said to be that at Kingtnn?. in Chi na, where it forms a perfect road from the top of one mountain to the top of the other. Calico, the well known cotton cloth, is na med from Calcot, a city of India, from whence it nrst came. Calico was first brought to Eng land in the year 1GS1. oTolb- .Kn..t -A r. Vn-r nwui. menu lilt 1 J - o" " - , "why, there's that Tom Johnson he'a the meanest man I ever neaia ten on. a urn was a constable here. Why, don't yon think he had an execution against me lor a little mat ter of groceries, and came out ana levied on my old woman's ducks, and wanted me to drive 'em up and catch 'em for him, and I told him to catch 'em himself ; and so he chased 'em rnnnrt and round tho house, and everv tim he'd catch a duck, he'd sit dqwn and wring its bead off, and then charge- mileage !" Mexico bad seven Presidents in the month f January, last. KATIONjkL PEOFLIQACY. At a time when the people ot this .country are studying economy, and when the revenues, of the government are inadequate for the most carefully regulated expenditures, our rulers should be held to a strict accountability, for their administration of the national finances.. They require to be watched in small things as well as great; for when profligacy becomes a habit, its abuses are general, and correction most be applied at every point. Some item where less money in the aggregate is wasted, may serve to show the prevailing rice in even a more impressive light. For instance, tho two front doors of that remarkable building the Capitol, with their aide- trimmings cost $47,072. In addition to this, tho designs and models for these doors cost $12,000. By the. original estimate, these doors were put down at $600. One of the bronze doors leading In to the new Representative Chamber will cost, according to estimate, $14,416 the design and model having already cost $8,000. It is no wonder the ancients had a high idea of the. position of a "door-keeper." Each window has cost about $2,00C exclusive of glass. "The spread eagle hand-rails for the private stair ways, in both wings, cost $12,000," and yet they are in such dark places that it is propos-, ed to tear away one of the committee rooms,, in order to let a little light shine npon one of them. So much by way of detail, merely e nongh to prevent any wonder, when we state that the appropriations for the Capitol already reach $5,075,000, and that it is estimated that the building cannot be completed on the pres ent plans lor less than $8,000,000 ! The same inordinate expenditure also ex-, tends to the furnishing of the various rooms.. Thus the furniture of the Speaker's room a lone cost $5,500. Everything is on a grand scale of expense at least. Mr. Speaker Orr, . for instance, withdrawing from the arduous, duties of the Chair, refreshes himself by sur-. veying his portly person in a mirror which cost $1,850. If the light is cot sufficient, he arranges the brocaielle curtains for which the "dear people" have paid $900. Should ha discover any dost upon his brow, he repairs to a wash-stand worth $85. Be can then select some interesting work from a book-case which cost $608 ; takes choice between a $48 and a $95 chair and a $90 lonngc ; and thns enjoys himself till a $145 clock tells him it is time either to write a note from a $50 inkstand on a $95 writing table, or else take his coat and hat from a $47 clothes rack and temporarily absent himself from a room of such "republi can simplicity." And so it is throughout the Capitol. The . room of the Committee of Ways and Means Is . furnished at an expense of $2,740 one of the items being a "fine book-desk and case, $600. The desks and chairs ol the Representatives hall cost $45,000; and merely the cleansing and varnishing of them last fall cost over , $1,100. Carpets, curtains and lounges are on the same scale. The members of the last ses sion even brushed their shrewd financial heads at an expense of $425 to the people, .and combed them (the people's heads also) to the tune of $220. Boston Journal. Cas'ta Max think What hi Pleases I In the spring of 1857, (our authority is explicit,) an exciting municipal election was held in Princeton, Indiana. Tho all-absorbing compound-question to be answered by the electors, was: "Whiskey T oi no Whiskey if" Ow ing to the fact that sundry grogshops had been mobbed, and their contents destroyed by the fair Amazons of the village, during the prece ding fall and wintcr,avast quantity of bad blood had been engcudered,and the election was bit terly contested. Conspicuous among the cham pions of "FreeLager," was aDutcbman by the name of Dasche. Dasche, "mit his vrow,' had his local habitation" beyond the corpo rate limits of tlie village aforesaid ; and, -by consequence, had no right to vote in Prince ton. But Dasche had not the remotest idea of limiting his exertions to the field of "mor al suasion," and he therefore voted a plumper for "Free Whiskey," in all its phases. Da-, schc was tried for the offence in the Court of Common Pleas of Gibson County, JndeP,. presiding, and found guilty. Dasche was en raged; and gave vent to his feelings in lan guage wherein it was hard to say whether bad English or broken Dutch predominated. The Court ordered him to be silent, the only reply was a volley of fragmentary polyglot anathe mas. His Honor again rebuked him, and, threatened Imprisonment, unless ho held bis' peace. Dasche rose, and aaked, meekly .- , "Judge, can't a man dink vat be blesses ?',, "Certainly," replied the court, "y on may think whatever you like." "Den," replied Dasche, a smile of triumph,, flashing across his Teutonic features as he glanced at the judge and jury, " dinks you ish all a set of internal schoundrels V , Time," was suddenly, "called " on him','" but bis speech was finished. Cow Stoet. The St. Louis Herald tells a tough but lively story of a cow in that city, chasing a young man wearing a flaming red shirt. lie ran and the cow ran. no one street and down another, the cow making rather the best "time." Red shirt thought to escape by dodging behind such persons as he, came a cross, the result was that several innocent pe destrians were perforated and carried on upon the infuriated animal's horns. Kcd shirt final ly songht safety in a house, p the stairs of which he ran, the cow following" for a few steps. She was finally driven out, and officer Finon placed two balls from his. revolver into her head, which put a quietus qpon her hostile demonstrations upon red shirt. The red shirt gentleman, in consideration of his hair breadth escape, demanded the cow's carcass, and upon the officer refusing to permit him to remove it, he created a disturbance which led to his being arrested and locked up. Seventy years ago the Democrats drew a line around the States, and said to the Slave Trader, "Thus far you may go, but no farth er" This was tho Jeffersoniaji Proviso. Thirty years ago, they rubbed, out part of the line and said to bim, "You way T go into lands south, but not into lands north " .This was the Missouri Compromise. Five years ago, they rubbed out the rest of.' too line, and said to him, "Wewilllearo it to the Settlers to decide whether yon shall come ia or oot." This was the Nebraska Bill. Now they turn humbly to him, hat in hand, and say, "Go where yon please ; the land is all yours ; the National Flag shall protect you, and the Ka-. tioaaiTroops shoot down whoever reststs y on This is the Pred Scott L'mw. : a I P
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers