i . BY S. B. ROW. CLEARFIELD, PA, WEDNESDAY, MAY 2, 1860. VOL. 6.-JVO. 30. LIEUTENANT LTJFF. BY THOMAS HOOD. All of you that are too fond of wln, Or any other stuff, Take warning by the dismal fato Of one Lieutenant Luff. A sober man he might hare been, Except in one regard ; He did not like soft water, And took to drinking hard. 8aid he, ''Let others fancy slops, - And talk in praise of tea, Btrt I am no Bohemian, So do not like BoheA. If wine's a poison, so is tea But in another shape . What matter whether one is killed By CANISTER orOBAPK?" According to this kind of taste, He still indulged his drouth, And being fond of port, he made A pokt hole of his mouth. A pint he easy could hare sipped, And not been out of sorts ; Jn geologic phrase, the rock lie split upon, was quartz. THE PATCHED OLD LADY. Tbe church was fashionably fall. From choir and altar went up loud-voiced praise to God. The organ rolled oat its mighty tones from lungs of brass. There was a fluttering, rustling motion, as of the moving of myriad silks; the gentle breath cf hundreds of fans, while soft white feathers, and rings, conspicuous under their gloves, and tremulous laces, and faint, sweet odors, attract ed the eye, and regaled the senses. The preacher was in his pulpit more like a throne it was with its hangings of lustrous damask, Its tassels and fringes, and cushions of crimson velvet. The Bible before him looked heavy with gold, and its splendid lea ves flashed at their edges as they were turned over with reverent touch. The pastor's wife aat in the first pew a delicate, pretty-looking woman, well-dressed and much , admired. From there, all along, even to the door, beauty and wealth sits intent on listening to the rich tones of the pastor. Farther along still, in a corner pew, very near , the entrance, sits an old and faded woman. Her bonnet and dress are black, but quite shab by. Her gloves are mended and her old shawl patched. Her lace is. meek, sweet in expres sion, though very much wrinkled. Her pos ture denotes great humiliation, but as she lis tens to tbe words of hope, a tear now and then steals down the deep furrows, and the pale orbs washed with much weeping, are reverently lifted to heaven. . " Did you notice that eld woman in the door seat?" asked Mrs. Dix, slightly shaking out the heavy flounces of her dress. ".No, I did not; whoisshe?" was the re ply, endtng with a question ' ' 1 ' Some poor old thing or other she seems like a Christian, though. I suppose, we ought, some of as, to speak to her." She gets out of cnurch so quickly," said another lady, overbearing the conversation, "that no one can catch an opportunity to say a word. She's dreadfully poorly dressed, too; what a mag-ni-fi cent sermon we had to day!" " Splendid O, did . you see our new comers 7" . : . " You mean the lawyer's folks yes ; I'm glad he's taken a seat with us. What a beau tiful family he has 1" " Beautiful indeed ! and dressed in such ex quisite taste. Nothing in the least gaudy but perfectly genteel, and very rich." "They say be is immensely wealthy; ho came from Boston. H is father died a year ago, and left him a hundred thousand dollars. How they did listen ! 1 hope they will be un der conviction before a great while." " What ! are they not religious ?" "Bless you, no. Tbcy ore very nice, moral sople, though better than professing Christians, I'm told, but then far from being pious." "Sister Dix, we must cultivate theiracquain tancc. What a field for doing good." 0! yes; great indeed. Did "you notice What elegant hymn books they carried ! Tur key morocco and gilt every one of them, down to tbe smallest child." " Noticed that. I think they have paid our preacher quite a compliment. There are so many men of talent in town." And so tbey wended their way down the church steps, talking of the new acquisition. That evening the eloquent preacher said to Lis wife, "My dear, I had very attentive listeners in the new family who took a pew last week." " 1 thought so," was her reply. " We must call npou them immediately." " Certainly; I shall be ready at any time." Tbe next day little Minnie, the youngest daughter of the pastor, came home, admiring a beautiful bunch of flowers which she held In her band. "See, mother just see how beautiful! The old lady called me in again to-day, and took these from her little garden." " I can't think who it is that gives these flowers to the child," said Mrs. Ivers, the pastor's wife." "01 bhe'sa real nice old lady, mother. She ays she loves father, and thinks he does a deal of good. She had a writing-desk, and was writing when she called me in, for she had a pen in ber band. She says she basn't been here a great while. I asked her if father had called to see her, and she said no, but she didn't e&puct it yet awhile she knew he had a great deal of calling to do." : " Who can it be, husband ?" I enn't think, I am sure," was the reply. ' " Father, won't you go with me some time ?" asked little Minnie. " Certainly, I will," said her father. . "She kisses so nice," said the cbild, art lessly. She don't make a fuss about it, but Is so neat j so difierent from almost all old ladies." ? The pastor and his wife smiled. ' A few days after this, Mr. Ivers was out on a collecting tour. It was for an important ob ject, for which he had volunteered to work, and give his time. He drove around town, little M. innie beside him. Oh ! what a splendid house !" said the child! clapping her hands, as they stopped before a stately mansion. " Who lives here ?" " The new family, dear, that sits in the pew behind us. Don't you remember those nrettv little girls ?" 3 Yes; but I didn't like 'era' said Minnie, "because they didn't smile to me when I smil ed to them, but tossed their heads so." W0XX b0uldn't notice such things, Minnie," aid, her father, helping her out of the carriage j " perhaps as they are city folks they want to be introduced." " I didn't," replied Minnie, significantly. They went up the marble steps, and were soon seated in the great parlor. The lawyer's wife and the lawyer's daughters came in were po lite talked of the weather the society sev eral little nothings, but not a word of that chiefest thing, personal piety. O ! how cold, unprofitable, barren was the conversation ! The minister felt" congealed j little Minnie fidgeted, after trying in vain to make the little girls talk. The older young ladies sat looking very interesting, but scarcely opened their lips. However, when the minister open ed to them his mission, and said that ho did not expect over five dollars from any one sub scriber, the lady immediately took from a sil ver porte monaie a new, rustling bank note of that precise amount and handed it, with a smile, to the clergyman. The visit was ended. " How good the sun does look !" cried little Minnie, springing from the last marble step. " I was so cold in there." " So was I," echoed her father, in his thought. " O I there's my dear old woman's house ; that used to be a shop, you know. Now you must go and see her." So, true to his promise, the minister sprang out, and Minnie, all eagerness, led him in. An aged woman, very neat, very smiling, arose from a desk where she was writing, and wel comed them warmly. " I am not busy, you see," she said, laying down her pen ; and forthwith she began to talk of the last Sabbath sermon, with a beauty of language that quite astonished the pastor. " It is very strange I have not seen you be fore," he said. ' " I knew you had enough to do, with such a large flock," she replied. " But where do you sit 7" " I have been in the last pew but one, on the loft side ; your sexton showed me that one, and I have, ever since I have been here, sat in it. I is, however, so inconvenient that I believe, as I have made up my mind to ' attend your chnrch. I shall hire a seat farther up." The pastor's cheek burned. He remember ed the old, solitary woman in the poor seat. " t atner is getting money lor the missiona ries ; don't you want to give him some 7" ask- ea the minister's little daughter," innocently. " Yes, dear I'm sure I do. I've just twen ty dollars of my annuity left. I was wonder inghow I should dispose of it, for you must know I have taken to the freak of giving it away in my old age. I can support myself by copying. Till the Lord takes away my strength, all the money belongs to him." " Is not this too much 1" , said the pastor, taken quite by surprise. . .. " It is the Lord's," said the old lady ; " do with it for him, as it seemcth to thee good." That visit was one of prolonged, of unex pected interest. The old lady repeated parts of the history of her life. She had been a wealthy, learned and ambitious woman. Her place had been in courts, and about royalty. But terrible reverses had chastened and ele vated her spirit, and she had brought ambition, learning, and what little wealth she had, and laid it at the foot of the cross. Never did the pastor enjoy a richer intellectual or spiritual least. The wealthy lawyer and his family continu ed tor many months to attend the society un der Mr. Ivers, then the summer came, and they flew like birds to a watering place. The church was never richer for them, but while the old lady, who had attracted no attention beyond a little curiosity, remained on earth, her worldly wealth, and her godly walk and conversation wero full of nntoid benefit, and caused more than one thoughtless church membero blush for their want of interest in the patched old lady who sat in the poor seat. A Lady Rescued From The Savages. A letter from Tuscon, Arizona Territory, gives the following information respecting the re scue of Mrs. Page, recently carried off by the Indians : " Mrs. Page is still alive, is no lon ger with the Indians, and she has passed through actual trials, hardships and difficul ties duriDg the last fortnight, exceeding in thrilling interest the most highly wrought pages of fiction. Last night a messenger ar rived here from the Santa Rita Pinery, with a letter from Mr. John Page, stating that his wife had come in alive, after enduring almost incredible trials. Mr. Page immediately set out, -accompanied by a physician, and every thing possible to be done for her relief will be done. It seems from what we can learn, that Mrs. Page, probably the day following her seizure by the Indians, finding that her friends were on the trail, refused to go on, and her savage masters lanced her in several places, and left her for dead. After some time she revived to find herself weak from loss of blood, with wounds still open, foot sore from her previous trials, without food, and miles from any habitation. What a position for a young woman of eighteen summers a bride of two months whose life hitherto had been all sunshine 7 Through all these trials Mrs. Page struggled for two weeks and drag ged her emaciated form by degrees toward the home from which she had so lately been rudely torn by ruthless savages. No one suspected bei presence in the mountain, and those who were looking for intelligence-from her, thought she was miles away amid the haunts of the red men. How she was enabled to suffer so much and reach home at length, is incomprehensible. But sad as have been her trials, how pleasing the consolation at last that she once more is surrounded by friends, and that she is no longer at the mercy of the savages." Breathe fresh air if you Mould livelong.' In New England, farmers, who pass their days out of doors, live to an average age of 64 years. The average of persons who have in door occupations at death is, in Massachusetts and Rhode Island: Shoemakers, 43; tailors, 42 ; editors, 41 j druggists," jewelers,s and teachers,'-from 39 to 40; machinists, 38J; printers, 86 Fresh air, there, almost doubles a man's life while it more than doubles his ca pacity for enjoyment. K" A paragraph is going the rounds of the papers, stating that tbe friends of Mr. Frank Sanborn intend presenting his sister with the "latest style of pistol." A friend suggests that, although tbe young lady may be a very good horsewoman, she would be very mach at a loss in managing a Colt. - ' . To abridge conversation, speak only truth. OUR LITTLE DECEITS. People are mueh given to expending a deal of indignation upon that which they designate as "the deceit of society." Yet those who pretend to such "horror of deceit," are they guiltless ; have they no sins of commission in the little and large social falsehood to which society is not to be the father-confessor ? We may as well acknowledge the truth. We may as well open our heart's secrets to the father-confessor, and be contrite for once in our lives. We are all a compound of dust, deceit and greed ; that is to say. all of us who claim a special position or social distinction. "Ah, ha f Jones, I am really glad to see you !" exclaimed Smith. Smith never told a more egregrious falsehood in his life. Smith, the whole entire period since he last met Jones, has been trying to dodge himor hasn't thought of him in any wise, and Jones knows this ; and yet he accepts the deliberate lie as a pleasant and customary portion of our social etiquette. Jones replied : "My dear Smith my old boy, do you know I was thinking of you, this morning 7 I said to my wife this morning at breakfast, I wonder what has be come of Smith, my old friend V and I had some thoughts of calling up at your house. How have you been 7" Smith is nearly certain that this speech is a return lie.v Jones uttered it to him as he had uttered it to a dozen other acquaintances that day. And after a social drink together, the precious pair separate only to renew the utterance of the same little social deceits whenever they chance to meet. You, reader, who just now, perhaps, was expressing such highly refreshing bits of mor al anathemas in reference to backbiting, de ceit, and lying; were you not just now in conversation with Brown 1 Were you not laughing at bis jokes, gravely nodding assent to bis judgment, taking him by the band and in every way using your utmost endeavor to convince those around you that of all men in the world, Brown is foremost in your esteem ? Yet when Brown leaves when, after he has resisted your earnest and importunate, and half-a-dozen times repeated remonstrations against h'14 departure, and has gone beyond hearing, do you not in tbe presence of your friends (you think them friends, at least,) pronounce Brown an infernal, artful, irredeem able scoundrel a Jeremy I) idler, a rogue,and everything that is either mean or contempti ble? Certainly yoj do ; and it is no more than fair that you should, inasmuch that you can safely swear that Brown, in a circle-of his supposed friends, is annoirting your fair fame with a similar quality of the concentrated essence of defamation. Yon and Brown knew that you were uttering a fsw of those "little deceits," which are so absolutely necessary to secure the stability of the society in which you both live and move ; separated, you are like wild cats; drawn together by accident, you are doves in disposition. AH the ameni ties (deceits) of society are extended from one to the other ; Iscariots and Arnolds em brace, and your falsehoods are accepted as the most genial truths. ' - We?)ate with a hate that is unconquerable the man we have just dined with, yet having a due regard for tbe courtesies of life, (we call our fear f what injuries he may do us and our dread of an expose of our own weakness courtesies in this instance,) we cannot find woids to express our admiration of his char acter. We leave his presence thoroughly convinced that he is a consummate villain, and we pronounce him so to our first acquaint ance we encounter. Father Confessor Society, are we not ac knowledging the truth 7 The ladies, too, whoso ruby lips are never parted save to utter such sweet pleasantries, such kindly words of comfort ah ! they are not guilty of these sins of commission. . Oh, certainly not! What an unseemly churl is ho who daie malign their character for truth and veracity ! Yet, oh, Father Confessor, let us have a revelation of their cloistered penitence ! of the confessions they, Hko all of us, must make in the cloisters of the mind, with unfor giving conscience in waiting with the dread ful scourge of remorse. How amiable are the fair and fashionable daughters of Eve to each other in public ; yet, how merciless in private ! "What a love of a woman !" says Mrs. Boles to Mrs. Coles in re ference to Mrs. Doles, "so amiable in dispo sition ; really she is worthy of any one's es teem and confidence." Whereupon, Mrs. Boles in the next breatL tells Mrs. Foles, who doesn't like Mrs. Doles, "What an odious, abominable creature that Mrs. Doles is. 1 do detest her hypocritical pretences.' lean scarcely, endure her pres ence. Ugh 1 I don't see how the brazen thing can dare to face me." At this instant Mrs. Doles appears, coming up smilingly to Mrs. Boles. The twain embrance, and Mrs. Bole3 exclaims, with all the apparent sincerity df an earthly saint,'"Oh! my dear Mrs. Doles! I was just this instant speaking of you to Mrs. Foles. I was saying how lonesome we should be without you here. I have almost made up my mind to scold you for being so late. Take off your furs ; here, Mary, take Mrs. Doles' furs, rubbers, and, bonnet. No; no, I insist; yon must stay for tea." Ten minutes later while Mrs. Holes is absent from the parlor, Mrs. Doles whispers to Mrs. Coles, "What a smooth-faced simpleton Mrs. Boles is. She is so vulgar in her ways, and she does keep such mixed company. Really, if it hadn't been , that I wanted to see you, 1 should not have called. Ob, here she is." Such conversations are considered as social amenities. They are not deceits. Oh, no ! Not the vilest and at the same time the most absurd of sins. Ladies, we are told, are like Metamora, and "cannot lie." They are only deceitful in a social point of view, not perso nally. They cannot bo held accountable, per sonally, for the commissions of such sin? as form tbe foundation of fashionable society, and its only maintenance sociality only. Now that the writer of this "odious article" has ventilated a sufficiency of examples of tbe little deceits of society, shall we abolish them 7 Shall we have no more deceits, no more hy pocrisy, no more sham? Emphatically, yes ; we must have them. Were we all to speak fo each other as we think, at all times and in all places, every man and woman of us would be deadly hostile to every one else. There would be no friendships, no gossip, nothing but dire and continuous sniveling, bickering and mis ery. Soirees, Re-unions, tete-a-tetes, Christ mas rejoicings, New Year's festivities, none of them would we have. We would stare at each other, fight like cats and dogs ; groan and growl, and mayhap the most excitable would go mad with anger. Not one of us that would, were the veil of other people's : f , - i-i , . . . r wpiuiou imea so mac eacn 01 us wouia "see ourselves as others see us," or could think himself or herself other than the most abject, worthless being on earth except those be or sne nated. Queer but substantial necessities, these lit tie deceits which we daily practice, to which those oftenest resort who are the loudest mouthed in condemning the great bugbear, "lhe Hypocrisy of bociety." KOBE LETTERS. The Philadelphia papers contain the corres pondence between Mr. Vandyke, late U. S. District Attorney in that city, and the Presi dent. It was brought out by the Covode In vestigating Committee. . The President, in a note to Mr. Vandyke, apprises Dim ot the intended removal upon the ground that "the official duties of the Collector of an important port and those of the District Attorney are in their nature so intimately connected that it is quite impossible for them to conduct the public business with due regard to te public in terest, whilst they are in a state of such open and inveterate hostility, as to forbid all personal and official intercourse with each other." Mr. Vandyke replies by saying that the per sonal relations between him and the Collec tor, Mr. Baker, are not such as to conflict with the public interests, and are precisely the same as they were at the time of his appoint ment and when at the President's personal solicitation he accepted the office, and are tbe same as they had been, with the full knowl edge of tbe Administration, for nearly one year previous to that appointment. He then goes on to say : " My relations with the Collector, as I have frequently informed you in conversation and by letter, are the result of my unwillingness to approve the conduct of trie Collector in his tyran nicul abuse of the patronage of the Federal Gov ernment, wiih a view to control the wishes of the people in their primary local elections. This, in conformity with your own just views as ex pressed in times past, when in 1839-'40, 1843-'44 and 1817-M8, it was supposed that the same power was used to prevent your poli tical advancement, I have always disapproved and discountenanced, to tho extent of my abi lity. The banding together by a Collector of Customs, of , tho entire , force of subordinate federal officers, the necessities of many of whom may compel them to yield their own convictions to his threats of removal, and the controlling of the political preferences of other persons under promises of appointment, are infringements of the rights of the people, a violation of the Democratic spirit of our institutions, and at all times dangerous to the purity and perpetuity of an elective govern ment." . ,"t.. . ' lie gives, as another reason, the fact . that the Collector paid to persons professedly em ployed in the revenue service large salaries out of the public treasury, when such persons notoriously do, not discharge the duties ot their appointment, but either devote their time to other business callings, or are en gaged in the discharge of other public duties properly compensated for at a lower rate of salary. ,: This is a very plain and very full justifica tion of the Attorney. Mr. Buchanan does not attempt to parry its force, but repeats that Mr. Vandyke must be removed for his hosti lity to the Collector. We have thus the Pre sident's own authority for saying that he has removed a faithful public servant, solely be cause he refused to become a party to the ty rannical abuse? of tbe power of the Govern ment to help the Democracy, and was oppos ed to the squandering of the public money upon political favorites who rendered no pub lic service. . The Collector of the Port of Philadelphia, Mr. J. E. Baker, is a relative of the Presi dent. Besides making a corrupt and tyranni cal use of his office, with the connivance of the President, he quartered his brother, Geo. W. Baker, on tho treasury, who, in his exa mination before the committee, said he receiv ed a salary of $2,200 per annum, and yet could not state any duty be had ever performed, ex cept a single trip to New York, a service which, it appears by the testimony, could have been performed by a competent person for the sum of $50. It is added, by those familiar with the, case, that the committee will have evidence be fore them that Baker, instead of acting in favor of the Government in revenue cases, as alleged, appeared to defend persons charged with smug gling, and this whilo he was holding an office in the Custom House, and at a time when he stated he was assisting the District Attorney. A certified copy of the Record of the IT. S. Commissioners' office at Philadelphia fully makes out this fact. , Mr. Vandyke-, astonished at such acts as these, made some inquiries, by letter, at Wash ington, as to whether they were authorized by the government ; and it was probably the fear of an official exposure' through Mr. Vandyke, that caused bis removal. The President stands by his relatives and their corrupt use of the public money, and tho honest public officer goes to me wan. . Among the many issues of base coin which from time to time were made in Ireland, there was none to be compared in worthlessness to that made by James II, at the late Dublin Mint. It was composed of anything on which he could lay his hands, such as lead, pewter, copper and brass ; and so low was its intrinsic value that 20 shillings of it was worth' only two pence sterling. William III.,' a few days after the battle of, the. Boy ne, ordered that the crown piece and half crown should be taken as one penny and one half penny respectively. The soft mixed metal of which that worthless coin was composed, was known among the Irish as uim bog, pronounced 00m bug, i. e., soft copper, f . e., worthless money ; and in the course of their dealings the modern use of the word humbug took its rise, as , in the perfect phrase. ; " That's a piece of nimbug." Don't think to pass off your uimbug on me." Hence the word humbCg came to be applied to any thing that had a spurious appearance, but which was in reality not spurious. It is curious to note that the very opposite of humbug, i. e. false metal, is the word sterling, which is also taken from a term applied to the true coinage of Great Britain,' as sterling, coin, sterling worth, &c. "7 "' -1 : '"' EE?" When a 'lover dotes on his darling, a refusal acts as an anti-dofc. HOW TO KEEP A HOTEL. A man may be a first rate fellow, as Matt Peel used to say, and yet not know how to keep a hotel. If ability in hotel keeping be a test of a good fellow, there is cne man for whom we can vouch as all sorts of a good fel low. He keeps a hotel or country tavern, if you will, away down in tbe interior of Arkan sas, somewhere. Tbe way we happened to bear of him was this : Several weeks ago, two well-known gentle men of this city went traveling for their health, and concluded to try the famous Hot Springs of old 'Rackensack." There being neither river, railroad nor canal to take a body to tbe Springs, our travelers hired horses to ride in that manner to their destination. They un luckily followed the wrong road, or else there was no rigit road to follow ; at any rate they gotlost,and after a fatigningdays ride through a barren, inhospitable wilderness, they came to a neat little building, standing alone in a woods, with farming appendages around. Our travelers halted and hallooed. A great tall, raw-boned giant of a fellow stepped out. "Can we get lodging here to-night 7" asked one of the horsemen. "Well, gentlemen, I reckon ye kin," said the big one, "and welkim to boot, this is a hotel." The travelers, although they did not like the cut of the landlord's jib, dismounted were relieved of their horses, and were soon rega ling themselves over a good country supper, of corn-dodgers, bacon, milk, fried chickens and coffee. It was a regular country supper, and with their whected appetites, our invalids enjoyed it amazingly. Alter supper tbe gigantic landlord sat on the porch with them, talking, cracking jokes, and treating them occasionally to some good old rye, of which he appeared to have a plen tiful stock. The invalids set him down for a regular "brick," and were still better pleas ed when lighted at last to nice soft feather beds with the whitest of sheets. "I till you what it is, Bill," said Tom, as they were sinking gently into tbe embraces of Somnus, "this fellow keeps a nice place if it is out here in the woods." "That's a fact," replied Bill, "and I sup pose it's cheap place, too; but I like it, and I'm willing to pay the full city figure on it." Next morning our travelers were aroused by their ugly, but affable landlord, and regaled with a breakfast, it possible, still more appe tizing than the last night's work had been The horses were brought round and it was evident that they, too, had been well cared for. One of the travelers pulled out his wal let, and said to tbe big entertainer: . "Well, landlord, you keep a first rate little hotel out here : better than wo expected to find. : We are much pleased with it, and want The landlord drew himself up, and putting on a very sullen look, said : ' "Gentlemen, I'm pleased to hear yer satis fied. . The bill is two hundred and seventy-five dollars." , "How much did you say, sir 7" asked the travelers, both starting. The big one drew himself np a little higher, looking still more solemn,and replied distinct ly and emphatically . "Two hundred and seventy-five dollars gen tlemen." "Do I hear right, sir f do you really mean to charge us two hundred and seventy-five dollars for two meals and lodging and horse feed,?" "Gentlemen,', said the landlord, with the most alarming sangjroid, "that's no mistake. Two hundred and seventy-five dollars is the bill." The invalids got scared. They did not feel strong enough to 5ght ; and if they bad, could never have hoped to make anything out of the ungaiuly giant who stood composedly before them. Without saying another word, the traveler with the wallet squeezed it, and peel ed its difierent pockets, and succeeded in handing over the full amount required. The landlord thanked his guests politely, and ho ped if they should pass that way they would give him a call. The travelers were now on their horses, and prepared to renew their solitary ride. Before getting far off, however, the traveler who had sodisgorged, turned in his saddle and hailed the landlord. r"I say, landlord," shouted he, "before I go, I'd just like to ask you a question a civil question at which you can take no offense." "Fire ahead, gentlemen," was the answer ; "ye've paid your bill, and yer welkim to ask anythin', without offence." "Well, how in the name of Heaven did yon come to charge ns two hundred and seventy five dollars for one night's accommodation, not worth more than five or six dollars at the outside V , "Certainly, gentlemen, I'll tell yer and wel kim. Yer see I keep a hotel ; and sometimes I has customers, and sometimes I hasn't. When I hasn't I has to charge accordin, and as you are the first customers I've had well nigh onto a year, yer bill was a little bigger'n it "inout a bin, otherwise. The hotel has to be kept up, gentlemenand when customers is scarce, I has to charge accordin." "Good morning, landlord," said both the travelers, and they both rode off satisfied. They didn't go on to the springs, however. They took the back track to the river and re turned to the city for some more money, the big botel keeper having pretty nearly cleaned them out. Re-supplied with funds, they were soon off to the Virginia Springs, being unwil ling to trust themselves again among the hotels of Arkansas interior. They, declare, though, that the big land lord who fleeced them was a capital fellow, all sorts oi a fellow,and knows how to keep a Hotel. We think, on the whole.official swindling in Austria is a little more systematic and scien tific than it has become in this country. A letter in the London Times, mentions a very curious mode by which Army contractors plun dered the Government. They agreed to de liver cattle at so much a head in Mantau. The cattle were driven in atone gate and counted, driven through tho town, out at another gate and around the city the to first gate, were counted again, and so on until the same cat tle bad actually been countedyite times ! The contractors also sold the hides : but unfor tunately they could only deliver the bides of ont-ffth as many catile as they had received pay for from the Government. This Is a little ahead of our City Railroad schemes : but we are a young people, comparatively, and have a wonderful facility at learning. ' " AN OILY LETTER. A facetious correspondent of the Sandusky Re gister, writing from the oil region of Trumbull county, Ohio, makes the following good '-hit" at the big stories which re told about the oil discov eries by some of the newspapers : "I arrived here at a very late hour, last night, on an oil train, and might as well have come on train oil, aa we were sixteen hours behind time, 1 learn, owing tstbe accumulation of oil on the track at this end of the road. The oil fries out of the ground and lubricates tho rails for a great dis tance. We shouldn't have arrived hero at all if the passengers hadn't got out and sprinkled the track with cigar ahes. I slipped out of bed no body 'arises' here : we all slip into bed and slip out at an early hour this morning, and began my investigations. I found a section embracing four teen thousand acres of land chuck full of oil springs, drilling is unnecessary here, as tbe oil boils up in springs, sometimes to the height of 2 feet, end is caught in tin pails as it comes down. On a hot day, I am told, it is no unuaual thing to ee the women frying dough-nuts in theso jets of the oil. The balls of dough are dropped into the jets, where they are tossed about like corks in a fountain, until they are fried by the heat of the sun. ' The only species of tree which abounds here is the rlipjxry elm. These trees are so slippery a squirrel can t climb them without dipping his paws in prepared glue, a email bottle of which ho always carries suspended about his neck There are a few maple trees here, but no sugar is made, as nothing but oil runs out when they are tapped. There is one considerable sized creek running through Trumbull county which is all oil. It was discovered a short time ago in a singular manner. Three boys went in bathing, and when they came clothes. As, fast as they slipped them on they " would slip off again, and one of the lads, in a heed less moment, narrowly escaped slipping out of his skin. On reaching home their parents, being ex ceedingly frugal, wrung them out and extracted fourteen gallons of pure oil from the tune lays !:' Order of Rank Among Fi:rs. A large propor tion of the furs used in this country and elsewhere are cured and dressed in London ; and although England does not use expensive furs, yet London iq tli errant fur-mart nf thf fvrirlil Thp orvniriM ia considered the most precious, and next to that the Russian sable ; but the real sables are rare, for, ac cording to our latest Russian r tatistics, only 25.000 skins of tho beautiful little ardmal were produced during an entire year in the Czar's Empire. The prices paid for them are almost fabulous, a fine set being worth 52,000. The sable fur lining of one of the Emperor's cloaks, exhibited at the World's Fair in 1B51, was valued at $5,000. 'ext to tho .U 2 J ... WU....WUk, . .1 11 .J 1111, .U U . ten, or American sable a fur rich n nd high-priced, yet so fashionable as to be almost universally sought for. The Hudson Bay Babies are next in value, and are almost as expensive as tbe Russian. Xext is the mink, pre-eminent for beauty, wear and durability. It is not, perhaps, so delicate looking as the stone-marten, or so artful-looking as the African monkey, or so captivating as the er mine ; but it ia quiet and graceful, and more thrif ty than them all. Besides the mink, the stone marten, the fitch, the Siberian squirrel, nrd tha. Persian and Russian lamb, are in daily nse-. Th'o skin of the black bear forms the most magnificent sleigh robes a good turn-out of which, including robe and apron, costs upwards of $100. Tbe Ca nadian furs most esteemed in Europe, and of which they have no representatives, ore the thick fox and the tilver fox. Tbey are found only in the Hudson's Bay Territories or on the North shore of the St. Lawrence. The raccoon and the rouskrat are also confined exclusively to thiscontinent. In England valuable furs are bu t little worn the cli mate not requiring the lengthened wear of Furs at any one time.' The muskrat and the rabbit, and the American hare, dyed, form therefore the bulk of the furs worn there. The value of tho.e export ed from the United States in 1857 was31,116.041. A Fickle IIoosier Girl. The Terre Ilaute. In diana, Journal tells a story of a fickle lloosier girl who went from that State to Marshall.. Illi nois, recently, to get married, and who deserves to stnr.d as a companion to the Mississippi girl who married one man in the afternoon, eloped with an other at night, and came back to her husband re pentant the next day. The girl, with her lover, was at a hotel where a returned Californian waj stopping, and while the lover was out hunting a preacher to marry them, the Californian saw her name on the register and sought her out. He proved to be an old lover to whom she was once engaged. He reproached her for deserting him. She cried and begged for forgiveness. A stormy scene ended in her promising to break her present engagement and go back to the arms of the Cali fornian. Just as this arrangement was complete, the other lover returned, and was very naturally astounded at finding another mnn in his- place. Explanations followed, and the girl being puzzled as badly as Macbeth between her two lovers, for sho ''could be happy with either, were fothcr denr fellow away," they withdrew to decide the matter themselves. The Californian finally resigned his pre-emption, and the other married the girl at once, the Californian acting as groomsman. John iTerson was recently arrested and impris oned at the South for aggravated polygamy : he had thirteen wives. The daughter of the jailor whose hospitality this insatiable polygamist was enjoying while awaiting trial, believed him inno cent, pitied him, loved him, opened the prison doors, fied with bim, and became bis-fourteenth wife. After eight days of domestic bliss the hus band disappeared, and left neither trace nor mo ney behind. A reward was offered for hi3 cap ture ; a description of his fascinating person was circulated; he was recognized in a village tavera by a man who thought of the reward offered, and set about preparing his toils for the victim. In order to instil confidence into his breast, he made his acquaintance, invited him to his mansion, and then went off to procure legal assistance. When he returned, his home was deserted alike by his intended prey and his own wife, whom Iverson had led astray. A wretched man suggests that a proper, though a terribly severe punishment would bo to compel this polygamist to live with his fif teen wives at onco. A Negro Trnxs White. The Eufaula, Alabama, Spirit says that on a steamboat plying upon tha river Chattahoochee, there is an old negro pilot, whose skin has w ithin a few weeks changed its col or from ebony black to dazzling white. His neck, arms and hands have a delicacy of hue not sur passed by that of the most beautiful Circassian, and his lips are fresh and red as cherries r the rest of his body is bleaching in the same way There is no statute provision which will compel one to believe this story. A niece of new road in Concord. Mass.. which had been in use about five years, suddenly disap peared a few days since.. It was laid out across s swamp, and was some six to seven rods in extent. A man and one-horse team were at worK on it at the time, and had a narrow escape. N. W. Lvon. a Revolutionary soldier, died at hij residence in Easton, Conn., on the ISth April, in his 101st year. He was engaged in the Commis sariat Department of the Army for some time. The Academy of Sciences of Paris occupied a part of its last sitting in discussing the question whether tnere etui remained any Dears in u County of Michigan, United States. ' 'TTiA VAnnff ffAtitLman vYiv AnCfl aftw iflA tf? a V . HI- J "ft .TUW " J when he "wouldn't atsociate with mechanioe," is now acung as cier& to a manure wagou.