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VOL. 5. NO. 48.
BY S. R KOW.
CD3ARFIELD, iPA., VEMESDAY, JULY 27, 1859.
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V
THE FAREWELL.
t)"er life's dim wastes my lonely path is laid,
"Where beauty flashes but with dying gleam,
And every flower that wooes the genial shade .
Sheds its pale leaves on desolation's stream ;
But though each trembling star may set in gloom,
And hope, expiring, from my visions flee,
feoft-wafted on affection's holy plume.
My heart, exulting, will return to thee.
I go where other scenes in grandenr rise,
Where other shores re-echo to the deep,
Vfhero other stan illumine other skies,
And other men toil, suffer love, and weep,
tut. like some captive song-bird, borne afar
From the loved island where her wing was free.
t)ft o'er the deep beneath the evening star,
My heart, exulting, will return to thee. .,
Vhen from our skies tho rainbow shall decline, .
And all life's fires are quenched in bitter tears.
'The days which thou hast brightened still will shine
Fair islands flowering in the sea of years.
Mill beautiful before me a dear form.
Like a dim shadow on a twilight sea,
Will float, for still, with love's first feelings warm,
iiy heart, exulting, will return to thee.
Thou art a picture sweet on memory's page.
- Thine is the form my spirit worshiped first, .
And still 'tis joy, 'tis rapture to assuage
At love's dear fount my soul's consuming thirst;
Ours was the tender look, the thrilling tone. .
The moonlight bower beneath our favorite trc;
Such hours fade not when weary years have flown,
My heart, exulting, will return to thee. .
Thou art a vision of the heart,
A flower that fades not with the lapse of years,
A-fhrine whence passion cannot, will not part,
A sunbow pictured in affliction's tears.
Time may outspread his shadowy wings, but soft
Thy memory will shine thro' them. Thou wilt be
The light, the music of my life, for oft
My heart, exulting, will return to the.
coprmniiT SEcrn:n.
I CLEARFIELD COUXTY:
OR, REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST.
Joseph Boone had received a good educa
tion, in tact he was a man of ability and worth,
and as such was esteemed by his neighbors
and those with whom he was brought in con
tact. Being a zealous and devoted catholic,
he did much to increase the harmony and pros
perity of the church with which he was in
communion, and its members as well as others
love to think and speak of the man. Inflexi
ble integrity induced him to abandon a home
surrounded,, with comforts and luxuries; to
give np property and lands to satiitfy the cred
itors of another ,whom he, trusting iu thchon
or and honesty of man, had placed confidence
in, but which confidence was abusedy Society J
undoubtedly still had its charms for him. To
leave it and its hollow mockeries behind to
enter into a new, rude, and untried sphere,
where he might acquire that position to which
we are entitled by the laws of nature equali
ty might, with the tinge of poetry or ro
mance with which he could surround it, be
considered pleasant and desirable. Keal life
Is not as fancy paints it. The changes, break
ing up of old associations, abandoning habits
which had grown with his growth and strength
ened with his strength, to learn and adopt new
customs, might be bearable, still it was pain
ful to him to know that his wife and family
were to be subjected to like changes, to sufler
with a fourfold degree the inconveniences ari
sing therefrom, because they were not to buf
fet and bo brought in conflict with the world,
and in the excitement thereof be enabled to
forget the past. To remain where he was
would, perhaps, involve him in neglect and
mortification. A change had hope in it and
was resolved on. Boone made lair progress
ia clearing out a farm. He attempted in a few
years to build a grist mill on Bell's run, about
two miles from Coleman's, but it proved a fail
ure' and was not completed. . Being a good
pensman and rapid writer, he was selected as
Frothonotary, Recorder, &c. and proved an
accommodating and excellent officer. Since
his decease his family have left this county,
and we are only aware of the residence of one
of his children, William F. Boone, Esq., now
an attorney, in Philadelphia.
The Grampian II ills settlement, containing
some of the best-agricultural laud in the coun
ty, and being well-adapted for farms, was des
tined to increase rapidly in population and
wealth. James Moore, a member of the So
ciety of Friends,, moved here in the year
1810. He was a citizen of Half Moon, Cen
tre county. At the time of his removal here
he was surrounded by a family. Moore set
tled on the property on which has since been
built the town of rennsville, through which
runs tho Glen Hope and Little Bald Eagle
turnpike, and the Funxsutawney turnpike. Its
distance from the river, some four or live miles.
f Jfor some time -retarded the growth of this
ft
hut now since it possesses some ctti-
Jzens of enterprise and means it sctms to have
--
aroused from its lethargy and to be in a fair
way of making progress. It'poesesses a steam
gr'ut mill, saw mill, a large tannery, and sev
cral other branches of industry are here pros
c-cuted. It is pleasantly situated. Its name
can bo traced to the religious belief of its
founder.' James Moore and his sons, Jeremi
ah, Andrew and James being of a mechanical
turn, soon projected and erected grist and saw
mills the former has been rebuilt, enlarged
and had steam power added to it. James the
elder, and his son James are no more. James
junior has kli'bchind him a rich legacy an
unblemished reputation. He acquired skill
in the profession which he adopted, being that
of a surveyor. His conscientlouness, care and
skill called his services into frequent requisi
tion, ne fornany years acted as surveyor
and agent for the Fox and Roberts lands.wbich
comprised a large scope of territory and was
owned by a wealthy Philadelphia family. Ev
er mindful of the interests of his employers,
he yet managed their affairs so as to give the
greatest facilities to those who were desirous
of securing themselves homes and a compe
tency. Many who under other circumstances
might have found this a cold and . cheerless
world, in their cheerful houses, still remember
the kindness of this unassuming and honest
man. Few men occupying so bumble a sphere
have been as much regretted as he. Jeremiah
and Andrew,two estimable men, still live,one
at and the other near Pennsville. ' Until after
the settlement of Mr. Moore there was no reg
ular religious service in the community. Oc
casionally the Rev. Linn of Bellefonte would
come out and deliver a sermon or two. He
was of the Presbyterian church. Services
were generally performed in the barn of Esq.
McClure. And it was only in 1822 that divine
service was regularly held by the Presbyte
rians, in a log meeting house erected on Mr.
McCiure's land. This place was abandoned
when increasing in numbers the commodious
meeting house in tho Borough of Curwensville
was erected by the congregation. About 1S0G
a Methodist missionary, Daniel Stansburry,
was sent into the county and ministered to the
wants of those of his persuasion. He was a
good man ; well qualified for the situation, and,
like most of his class, accommodated himself
to surrounding circumstances. . Being a tailor
by trade he frequently assisted in making gar
ments and preparing the wardrobe of the
younger members of the family so as to ena
ble them to attend meeting in comely apparel.
He was followed by other missionaries of that
denomination. An indulged malting, as it is
styled by the Fi iends,was established at James
Moore's, in Pennsville. This was, perhaps,
the first regular religious organization in tho
county limits, and was continued until the
Friends bccauio sufficiently strong to form a
regular society and erect a respectable frame
meeting house near Pennsville.
James Moore was soon followed by Samnel
Jchnson, David Wall, Caleb Davis, Gideon
Widemire, Jonathan Wain and several others,
in rapid succession. They settled near each
other. Samuel Johnson, with one of his sons,
Garretson, has since removed to Ohio. lie
has left several sons here, Elah and James still
living in the Grampian Hills, and William F.,
a resident of Union township. David Wall
now lives in Brady township. Tho others
whom wc have named, are no longer living,
but have loft families still residing in the set
tlement. . At a later period a settlement, at first some
what isolated from the others we have sketch
ed, was commenced in the Grampian Hills,
and is now quite numerous. From the place
of nativity of those who reside there, it is
sometimes called the Irish settlement. In
the lapse of time, the increasing of population
and farms, the three beginnings have so ex
tended as to form one large settlement. The
last named place contains many industrious,
peaceable and respectable citizens. They are
generally of catholic belief, and have good
church accommodations and a flourishing con
gregation. In this settlement, as a general thing, those
who professed to be farmers have stuck to
their farms and not done, as is too commonly
the case in our county, combined farming and
lumbering. This has shown happy results.
Throughout it, can be found well cultivated
farms, well stocked ; having convenient build
ings, and comfortable dwelling houses with
solid comfort therein. Care lias been taken
that not only the necessaries, but some of the
luxuries of life, should be enjoyed. Choice
fruit raised in the fine orchards of this settle
ment tickles the palates, and grain and other
products of the farm conserve tho wants of a
large portion of 'our community which resides
outside of its limits. School houses and
churches dot the whole extent, the former fit
ting the rising generation for the struggles of
life and tho buttering their social condi
tion, and tho latter teaching them how to con
trol their passions and their appetites, and to
render life not only bearable, but desirable
When the Grampian Hills settlement shall im
prove upon her plan of divorcing those two
incompatible occupations, farming and lum
bering, and prove, by her example, to the oth
er settlements, that farming, if not a rapid, is
a steady and sure road to comfort and compe
tence, a new era will dawn on this county,
and prosperity will crown our citizens with
success.
(to be coxTisren.)
Anecdote op Webster. A correspondence
of the Boston Courier relates the followiug an-
4r!nf of WfhKfr
"The petty and important scurrility of
which Mr. Sumner's orauon iias ueen mauo
Hid fwr.ision in one nuwsnaner, reminds me of
a letter which Mr- Webster wrote after contin
ued provacation, to the editor of a newspaper,
furred to his nrivate affairs, and es
pecially to his not paying his debts. He said
substantially "it is true mai x nave uvi oi-,tr-nr
nni.l mv dnbts nunctuallv. and that I owe
mnnaxr. One cause of this is. that I have not
pressed those who owe me for payment. As
an instance oi tins, lemiuoejuui -
note, made to me thirty years ago, ior money
lent him to cducato nis ooys.
A wag on seeing a gobler trying to swallow
a cotton string, remarKcn, "lum, w me
attempt to introduce cotton into Turkey."
A couple were"fffarried,last winter on a cake
rthiA TMi-pr. Oueer wed-
or floating ice m iuo "uiv -v ---
ding-cake that.
8IGHTS IN LONDON. , v
From an interesting ..letjer from Rev. John
Matthews, written in London, aad published ia
the July .No. of the ,6'caei,. wo male the fol
lowing exti acts: . 1
The history of the Tower is linked with as
sociations to which no other building can fur
nish a parallel. To other places are attached
the memories of greater pomp, and a few may
boast of deeds as bloody, but not one exhibits
human nature so stripped of all noble and gen
erous qualities. Among all other castles it
stands alone the palace of treachery. Its
history is not only one of pomp, of cruelty,
and murder, but a sickening record of the
fickleness and perfidy of friends and relatives.
The grounds contained within the walls are
about twelve acres in extent. The most an
cient part of the structure is the White Tow
er, built near the centre by William the Con
queror. On entering we were conducted by a
warder, dressed as a yeoman of the guard of
the time of Henry the Eighth. The dress
consists of a hat, nearly the shape of a mod
ern beaver, but lower in the crown and cov
ered with black velvet in folds, and a red tu
nic profusely ornamented with bands of gold
lace and embroidery.' The armories, which
were first shown, contained a vast quantity of
old armor and weapons, well arranged in
chronological order, and some very interest
ing specimens of ancient fire-arms. Some of
the armor was beautifully ornamented and
gilded. We also saw the room in the bloody
tower, where King Edward the Fifth and his
brother were murdered by order of their uncle
Richard, and near it, the room, where as tra
dition states, the Duke of Clarence was drown
ed in a butt of Malmsey. The supposed ro
mains of the young princes, discovered in the
reign of Charles the Second, while making ex
cavations in the Tower, are preserved in a
cenotaph in Westminster Abbey. The room
where Sir Walter Raleigh was confined, and
where it is believed he wrote his History of
the World, is still pointed out. Tho unfortu
nate queens of Henry the Eighth were con
fined and executed near here. In one of the
rooms in the white Tower are many inscrip-
tions cut by prisoners on the wall, ono of
which reads; "Tho most unhappy man in the
world is he that is not patient in adversity,
for men are not killed by the adversities they
have, but by the impatience they suffer."
An old warder who sat behind a counter, upon
which were a number of small books, said as
we entered : "Gentlemen, this is a wonderful
room, and many celebrated persons have been
confined here. Jt is covered with inscrip
tions, which are fully described and explain
ed, in a book which I have here for sale,
price sixpence." Ko person in our party
however, purchased any of the books. Ihe
Jewel Office is the greatest attraction to most
visitors. The regalia have been shown since
the days of Charles the Second, who first or
dered them to be publicly exhibited. Our
party were led to the oflice by the warder, and
counted before being admitted, when tho
door was closed. The room is a small one,
sufficiently large to permit tho visitor to walk
around the jewels, which are exhibited in a
large glass case surrounded by bars of iron.
A woman pointed out tho various jewels and
ornaments. Here we saw the splendid now
state crown, made for the coronation of Vic
toria, and studded with a profusion of dia
monds and other precious stones. A cap of
purple velvet . shows . "distinctly the form
through the bands ofsilver which are arched
above it. It is valued-at one hundred and
eleven thousand nine hundred pounds ster
ling. Here is also St. Edward's crown, used
by the Archbishop for crowning all. the sov
ereigns since the reign oi Charles the Second.
It is the identical crown stolen in the reign of
Charles, from the Tover, by Blood, who in
stead of being punished, was rewarded by the
King, who probably feared hini, with a pen
sion of fivo hundred pounds a year. We also
saw St. Edward's massive golden staff sur
mounted with an orb, said to contain .a frag
ment of the true cross, and the celebrated dia
monds and gold plate of immense value,
which arc used at the coronation. Royalty has
frequdetly been obliged to have recourse to
the pawnbroker, and the kings of England
have sometimes pledged their jewelry. Hen
ry the Third pledged his jewels to the mer
chants of Flanders,' to raise money to enable
him to carry on his wars. Henry the Ffth
pledged his splendid collar to the Mayor and
Commonalty of London for ten thousand
marks. Henry the Sixth on several occasions
was reduced to the necessity of pawning his
jewels. We were not allowed to contemplate
the splendid spectacle before us for any con
siderable length of time, for another party
were waiting on the outside for admission.
So we were quickly gathered together, and
after being again counted, passed into the
court-yard. Near tho entrance, we saw the
famous Lion Tower, formerly the royal men
agerie, now used for the sale of refreshments.
Here a small spaniel lived for years in the li
on's den, where "he had been thrown. In the
reign of Henry the Sixth, tho keeper was al
lowed sixpence a day lor himself, and six
nence for every lion and leopard, the only
beasts then kept there. In the days of Henry
the Third, there was a white bear and an ele
phant kept in the Tower as appears from an
order issued by that monarch, which reads :
"The King to the Sheriff of London, greeting:
We command you that on the farm of our
citv. ye cause ( without delay) to bo built at
our tower of London, one house of forty feet
lone and twenty feet deep, for our elephant
120G." Before passing out we took a look at
the Traitor's Gate, which opens on the
Thames. Prisoners of state were formerly
brousrht throueh this entrance, and a dark.
dismal-looking place it is. Many a proud soul
felt for the first time, in all its force, the mis
cry of fallen greatness, as he passed through
its heavy black arches, which shut out, per
haps forever, the world and liberty.
Hamptox Court. Yesterday, in company
with S., I visited this celebrrted palace, for
aires tho residence of the kings oi Jngiana,
and which was built by the luxurious Cardinal
Wo sev. when in the heient oi nis pwwer.-
Thi fnvnrifn. wlm had become even richer
ami mnra nnwprl ul than his royal master, Hen
ry the Eighth, although in possession of other
splendid residences, resolved to build one that
should surpass any in England, and seeking
the advice of the most learned doctors of the
time, this snot was chosen as the most healthy
n itin-n fnAtitv miles of London. The manor
f iTamnton was then the property of the
Knights of St- John of Jerusalem, who leased
it to Wolscy for ninety-uino years, 'with re
tiivals. The ' ideasure-loving ' king needed
K)rh a ministei as Wolscy, for-although his
tory has not charged him with crimes as great
as many with less temptation and equal pow
er, never was a man better fitted to administer
to the pleasures of a monarch, or who knew
better how to sustain an establishment ' in
which priestly pomp was united to kingly
power and royal licentiousness. But the pal
ace at Hampton as it arose in its splendor,
could not fail to excite the envy of the king
and court. Henry asked Wolsey why he
built a palace which surpassed all those of roy
alty The crafty minister answered : "To
make a residence which shall be worthy of
yonr majesty." It was here that the magnif
icent Cardinal lavished his treasure and
racked his ingenious brain to provide some
new delicacy for the palate or some splendid
pageant for the eye. Here it was that he
craftily planned his measures for ascendency
over kings and courts, and it would seem
that nothing in king-craft was too bold or
vast, as in tho details oi his household, scarce
ly any thing was too minute to escape his at
tention. Five hundred persons composed his
retinue, and among his officers were some of
tho nobles of England. Ills steward was a
priest, and has chief cook was dressed in satin
and velvet ornamented with jewels. Ihe Car
dinal, who affected in some things humility,
rode upon a mule, but tho inferiority of his
animal was compensated by the splendor of its
trappings, and the splendor of its rider's cos
tume, who was dressed in sables and silk and
gold and jewels. Before his displays, even
the equipments of the Pope and the splendors
of the Vatican were fading. The edifice built
by Wolsey was enlarged by Henry, and since
that time by other monarchs. Of the original
edifice, the chapel, the great hall, and a few
chambers used for domestic purposes remain.
The other portions were chiefly erected by
William tho Third, and the buildings now
cover many acres, being the largest palace in
r-nglatid. The stato apartments through
which we were shown, coutain a very large
collection of paintings, interesting chiefly
from their historical associations. Ihe car
toon gallery contains seven cartoons by the
immortal Raphael, the romantic history of
which is w ell known. A number of gobelin
tapestries, some of them of great former beau
ty, decorate some of the apartments; but they
are now much worn and faded- The magnif
icent funeral canopy under which the Duke of
Wellington lay instate at Chelsea, attracts
much attention. It is of black English velvet,
surmounted by plumes of black feathers, and
lined inside with gold and silver tissue. The
state beds of George the Second, and William
the Third and his queen, are remarkable for
their rich tapestry and gilding. Most of the
people seemed to be more interested in these
beds than with some of the best pictures; for
while these rooms were crowded, the cartoon
gallery was quite deserted. The walls of the
rooms throughout arc quite plain ; they are
generally wainscoted in oak. Some of the
rich furniture still remains. The ceilings of
the bed-chambers are elaborately frescoed,
and the walls of William the Third's bedroom
were hung with portraits of frail court beau
ties, pointed by Lely. The great hall of Wol
sey is the most magnificent of all tho apart
ments. Its beautitul roof or oak, is enriched
with painting and gilding. It was once used
as a banqucting-hall, but it has since been
used as a church and as a theatre, in the
reign of George the Third. In it on the first of
OctoDer, 1718, was performed Shakspeare's
play of King Henry the Eighth, in which the
incidents in the lile of Wolsey were enacted on
the theatre of his splendor. The fine roof is
decorated with tho arms of Henry the Eighth,
and his favorite queen Jane Seymour. Tho
walls arc hung with the splendid tapestries or
arras representing the life of Abraham. Ihe
windows are filled with richly painted , and
stained glass, representing the pedigrees of
the queens of Henry and the heraldic badges
of the king, s From the windows of some of
the state rooms we had a fino view of a rich
and cultivated country, dotted with substan
tial farm-houses and decorated with the soft
foliaeo of innumerable trees. It was in this
palace that Queen Jane Seymour died after
giving birth to the prince, and the ill-fated
Catharine Howard first appeared as queen at
this palace. Elizabeth was very fond of resi
ding hero, and it was here that Charles the
First was a prisoner, although allowed the
splendors of royalty. Cromwell fixed upon it
as one of his places of residence, and here one
of his daughters was married and another died.
The conferenc6 between the Presbyterian and
the Established Church took place here in
1G04. The principal portion of the buildings
are occupied by decayed nobility, whose lor
tunes are fallen, but who are here furnished
by the government with a residence rent free,
where they may maintain some of their state
and fashion, the grounds, although not well
laid out, are very beautiful. . Before the man
sion is a lake which runs to the river, and
which is banked with a row of grand old trees,
forming a vista, terminated by some houses
and fields in the distance. The grounds are
abundantly supplied with flowers, which are
now in full luxuriance and beauty, it re
quires much watchfulness on the part of the
police to prevent their being picked; and
posted conspicuously in many places, I saw a
list of offenders who had been caught and pun
ished, with a statement of the fine. Thus on
one I read : "Henrietta Evinson, plucking
flowers, fined nine shillings and sixpence.-
Captain Charles Greenhill, of the Coldstream
Guards, plucking flowers, fined sixteen shil
lings and sixpence. 7 Hundreds of bright
eold-fish sported in the fountains and crowded
together by shoals round a few crumbs if
thrown into the water. tv c saw the aged
grape-vine now loaded with thousands ot bun
dies of fine black Hamburg grapes. It is
eighty-nine years old, and at a distance of
three feet from the ground is a foot in diame
ter. The gardener who attends it, informed
us that it produced three thousand bunches of
fruit last season, weighing on an average one
pound each. Iu the garden near the entrance
is the maze, which appeared to delight num
bers of people, lor we could hear merry laugh
ter proceeding from its green recesses as per
plexed wanderers sought their way through its
labyrinthine passages. The grounds compriso
1 4 r 4 43
auoufc loriy-uve acres.
There is a man in Algiers who tells such
good stories that bis friends say it is danger
ous to walk with him in the forests, for all the
hyenas come round him to laugh.
The fellow who" tried to get up a concert
with a hand rf a hat. is the same eenius who,
a few weeks since, played upon the affections
Oi au up-iown iauj .
THE SCANDAL MONGER. .
Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot.
Aunt Lizzi ewas Deacon Snipe's wife s sis
ter a maiden lady of about fifty she went to
all the meetings kept a regular account of
every birth, death and marriage, with their
dates doctored all the babies, and knew every
yarb in. the neighborhood showed all the
young married women how to make soap, and
when they had bad luck, made every child in
the house set cross-legged until the luck
changed. In fine, she was a kind of village
factotum spent her time in going from house
to house, grinding out a grist of slander to
each, as occasion required, but always conclu
ded with "the way of transgressors is hard ;" !
"poor Mrs. A. or B. (as the case was,) I pity
her from the bottom of my heart," or some
such very soothing reflection. Aunt Lizzie
was always very fond of asking strangers and
others, without regard to time or place, "the
state of their minds ; how they enjoyed their
minds," &c. These questions were generally
followed bv a striwr of scandal, which was
calculated to destroy the peace and happiness
of some of her best neighbors and friends ; but
she, like other narrators of this kind, consid
ered intellectual murder as either establish
ing her own fair reputation, or as the only
mode of entertaining the village, or thereby
rendering her society agreeable.
One warm summer's afternoon as Squire P.
was sittincr near his office door, smoking his
pipe, Aunt Lizzie was passing by with great
speed, ruminating on the news of the day
when the Squire brought her suddenly to, as
the sailors say, by "what's your nurry, auni,
Lizzie ? walk in." The old lady, who never
wanted a second invitation, went into the of
fice, and the following conversation soon com
menced.
'Well, Squire P., I have been thinking this
forenoon what a useful man you might be, if
you'd only leave off your light conversations,
as the good book says, and become a serious
man you might be an ornament to both church
and state, as our Minister says." .
"Why, as to that, Aunt Lizzie, a cheerful
countenance I consider as the best index of a
grateful heart, and yon know what the Bible
says on that subject " hen ye iasi, ue not
as the hypocrites of a sad countenance, but an-
noint thy head and wash fhyjuce (auni iizzio
began to feel for her pocket handkerchief, for
she was a taker of snuff,) that thou appear not
unto wjcu to fast."
"Xow, there Squire that sjust what I told
you see how you have the scripter at your
tongue's end ; what a useiui man you migni,
be in our church, if you'd only be a doer as
well as a hearer of the word."
"As to that. Aunt Lizzie, I don't see that
your "professors" as you call them, are a whit
better than I am, in private, I respect a sin
cere profession as much as any man ; but 1
know enough of one of your church whom
yo"u think a great deal of, to know that she is
no belter than she should be !"
At these innuendoes, Aunt Lizzie's little
black eve bcean to twinkle ; she sat down be
side the squire, in order to speak in a lower
tone spread her handkerchief over ner lap,
and began to tap the cover of her snuff box
in true style, and all things being in readiness
for a regular siege of "scandalum magnatum,"
she commenced fire
"Xow, Squire, I want to know what you
mean by one of our church ? I know who
j-ou mean the trollop I didn't like so many
curls about her head when she told ner expen
ence."
The Squire finding curiosity was puttin;
his boots on, had no occasion" to add spurs to
the heels, for the old lady had one in her head
that was worth both of them. Accordingly
he had no peace until he consented to explain
what he meant by the expression "in pricate"
this was a dear word with Aunt Lizzie.
"Now, Aunt Lizzie, will you take a Bible
oath, that you will never communicate what
1 am ahout to tell you to a living being, and
that you will keep it while you live as a most
inviolable secret ?"
"ifes, Squire, I declare I won't never tell
nobody nothing about it as long as I breathe
the breath of life ; and I'll take a Bible oath
on it; there, sartin as I live, Squire, before !
you or any other magistrate in the whole j
country."
'Well, then, you know when I went up to
Boston a year ago."
"iTes, yes, Squire, and I know who went
wiih you too Susey B. and Dolly T., and her
Bister Prudence.
"Nevermind who went with me, Aunt Liz
zie ; there was a whole lot of passengers
But. but"
"None of your huts, Squire out with it
if folks will act so a trollop" .
"But, Aunt Lizzie, I'm afraid you'll bring
me into a scrape "
"I've told you over and over Again, that
nobody never shall know nothing about it, and
your wife knows I ain't leaky "
"My wife ! I wouldn't have her know what
I was going to say for tho world why, Aunt
Lizzie, if she should know it "
"Well, don't bo afear'd Squire, once for all,
I'll take my oath that no living crittur shan't
never as long as I live, know a lisp on't."
"Well, then if you mnst know it I slept
with one of the likeliest of your church mem
bers nearly half the way up ! ! !"
Aunt Lizzie drew in a long breath shut up
her snuffbox, and put it in her pocket, mut
tering to herself
"Tho likeliest of our church members ! I
thought it was Susey B. likeliest ! this
comes of being flattered a trollop. Well,
one thing I know 'the way of transgressors is
hard ;' but I hope you'll never tell nobody
on't, Squire, for sartain as the world, if sich
a thing sould be known, our church' would be
scattered abroad, like sheep without a shep
herd.'4 In a few moments Aunt Lizzie took her de
parture, the Squire gave another caution and
a sly wink, as she said "good-bye let me
alone for a secret." .
It was not many days before Squire P. re
ceived a very polite note from Parson G., re
questing him to attend a meeting of the church,
and many of the parish, at the south Confer
ence room, in order to settle some difficulties
with one of tho church members, who in or
der to clear up her charactcr,reqnestcd Squire
P. to be present.
The Parson, who was a very worthy man,
knew the frailty of some of tho weak sisters,
as Aunt Lizzie called them, and as he was a
particular friend of Squire P.'s requested him
in his note to -say nothing of it. to, hi wife.
But the Squiro took the hint, and telling his
wife that there was a pariih. meeting, re-
quested her to be ready by 2 o'clock, and ho'
would call for her.
Accordine-tv the hour of meeting came
the whole village flocked to the room, which'
could not hold half of them. All eyes were
alternately on the Squire and Susey B. Mrs-.
P. stared and Susey looked astbougn sne nar
been crying for a fortnight. The Parson;
with softered tone, and in as delicate a man
ner as possible, stated the Story about Snsey
Ti. h ho nhsftrved was in cverv body's-
month, and which he did not himself believe a'
word of and Squire P., being called on to"
stand as a witness after painung in meiy
colors the evils of slander, with which their
village had been infested, and particularly the'
church, called on Aunt Lizzie in presence of
the meeting, and bcloro the church, to come
out and make acknowledgment for violating a
Bible oath ? Aunt Lizzie's apology was, that
she only told Deacon Snipe's wile on't anif
she took an oath that she wouldn't never telf
nobody else on't. Deacon Snipe's wife had,
it appears, sworn Roger Toothaker'a sister'
never to tell nobody on't and so it went
through the whole church,and thence through'
the village.
The Smiirc then acknowledged before the'
whole meeting , that he had, as he told Aunt
Lizzie, slept with a church member, nair me
way up to Boston, and that he believed her to
be one of the likeliest of their members, in
asmuch as she never would hear or retail slau--der.
All eyes were now alternately on Susey'
B. and Squire P.'s wife Aunt Lizzie enjoy
ed a kind of diabolical triumph, which !tho
Squire no sooner perceived than he finished
his sentence by declaring that the church1
member, to whom he alluded,tca his own law
ful wife ! I
Aunt Lizzie drew in ner nead unaer a nugt
bonnet, as a turtle docs under his shell, and1
marched away into one corner of the roora,:
like a dog that had been killing sheep. 1 no
Squire, as usnal, burst out into a fit of laugh
ter, from which his wife, Susey B. and even
the Parson, could not refrain joining and"'
Parson G. afterward acknowledged that Squire
P. had given a death blow to scandal in tho
village which all his preaching could not have
done. SOMNAMBULIC ECCENTEICITY;
A short time since, a wealthy lady, -who
has an only son, called on Professor Fancoast."
The latter, it should be remembered,1 rarely
visits patients but receives them in his office.
On this occasion, however, Professor P. com-
plied with this request, and was ushered into '
tho presence of Mrs. S. who pened the follow
ing conversation :
"I wish to consult you, doctor,- conccTfling'
my son George, you know."
"O, yes, madam," said the Prosessor,1 "but
he is surely not sick ?"
"Why, sir, there are no-'acatc symptoms,
but for about a month past he has becn af
flicted with somnambulism, and "we fear that
unless the tendency is corrected, tho most se
rious consequences may arise." "
"You say he has walked in his" -sleep for a
month past ?"
"Yes, sir." - . i
"And never did, previous to that f ''
"No, sir."
The doctor mused.
"Of what does your family consi3t-,madami,,
"Myself and my son, the tvo kitchen ser
vants, and Celeste,the chambermaid,'who only1
came last month."
Jnstatthis moment, the last named per
son entered. She was a plump, rosylipped
French girl, who waited upon Mrs.-Smith.
When she had lelt tho room,- Mte.-Smith
remarked, "That's my new chambermaid, doc
tor ; interesting girl, is she not ?" 1
"Yes, madam, particularly'so.- I think you
said she had been with you about a month, did
you not ?"
"Yes, sir.,'
"Then, madam," said the do'ctOr, rising
and taking his hat, "allow me to say that any
apprehension, of your son's health would bo
superfluous. As long as that young woman's
room is accessible to George, I fancy his som
nambulic habits will continue. And, madam,
under those circumstances, I really don't
wonder at it."
We rather imagine that that rather took -the
old lady down.
The Middle Ages. A "Hist6ry of Progress
in Great Britain," just published, gives some
curious statistics. The early inhabitants of
the isles made but two meals a day-; a slight
breakfast in the forenoon, and a supper-which'
atoned for their matutinal abstinence. - Wdodi
earthenware, or osier supplied tho ufshes, and'
horns or shell the drinking vessels at tho
primitive repasts of wood-stained or skin ctad;
diners. Agriculture has flourished a id faded
much in the same way from Queen Eoadidea,
to Queen-Victoria. In one respect the Tnidi
die-ages people showed themselves more dain
ty than their descendants In 130G the- King
was petitioned to stop the smoke by prohibi
ting the burning of coal.-"- Burning: sea- coal'
was at one time a capital offence, aifd'intlte
reign of Edward 1, a man was executed-for it.
Amosq the wounded conveyed to-Vercclii
recently was a young woman, a cantiniere, be
longing to one of the regiments, who received1
a ball in the thigh in the affair of Turbigo.
Having seen several of the French soldiers
fall around her, she seized on a musket j char
ged with the bayonet against tho Austrlans,
and continued to fight until shot down.- Her
conduct has been specially mentioned to the
Emperor. It was at first proposed i to am p?
tate the limb, but she refusedlsaying-, "I do
not fear the operation, but it'wtll preTewt me
from following my regiment:"' She is-now
considered In a fair way of recovery-
Droccht in Scotland. Accounts from
Scotland stato that the dronght during May
and part of June was more severe than during
any past year since 1826. : The rivers Earu
aid Tay were nearly dry, the famous Doon,
irimortaliaed by Burns, would Ude through a
gairQn measure, and other wctl known streams
and rivers were thoroughly dried up. In some
places the water was so scarce that in villages
it was sold at five shillings, per. barrel ! and
many had to go miles for water Tor their cat
tle. The crops, notwithstanding, are repor
ted as looking excellent ; and recent rains
will no doubt advance them considerably ;
"Ben," said a lather the other day to his de
linquent son, "I am busy now but as. soon as '
I can get time, I mean to give you a confoun
ded Hogging." "Don't hurry yourself, pa,1'
replied tho patieut l-id'I can wait.7' -
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