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
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