HI m ii EI: J" BY S. J. RO. CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1863. VOL. 11-NO. 43- ii" 15S USDEE THE ROD." i ALd,withw,.ir.osi heart, . . . .rlr.latrous love. Kr.tcrrciherhop.o.hi.perHMng. md turn, Auathe ch.in b4 l.n severed in two ; Sht had chanSci ber white robo for. he !.! & ... i - r Acd1 . .here pouring balm on het But the iI ,Qerc' r ( lit trie pa;cnra u Anl wip.ng the trs from her eyes ; Ari heitre.Sf.encl the chain he ha J broken in twa:n. jeart tl Iiteaed it firm U the skies h,ihi.pered a voice, ('twas E voice of her Jbtn God ) I lore thee: I Me thee, pass under the rod V II. i taw a Joans mother with tenderness bend 0 r tie couch of her slumbering boy ; And ih kissed Ihe soft lips as they murmured her name. While the Jremicr lay smiiing in joy. Oh1 sweet as the roicbud encircled with dew When it's fragrance is Hung on the air. 5,j fresh and.o fair to the mother he ?ecmed, A? he lay in lis innocence there. Hut I saw when she gated ou tba same lovely furai, I'ale as marble, and silent and cold, But paler and eoMer her beautiful boy, Aad the tale of ber sorrow was told. Eat the tca'.er bus there, who hud smitten her heart, And taktn hut treasure away ; 1i allor; her to Li-tven, he boa placed it on high ; Aui the amrncr will sweetly obey. There ha-l nhisfrered a voice, ('twas a voice of hcrC d.) -I lute thee I love thee, pass under the rod." III. I iw when a father and mother had leaned, the aruij of a dear, cherished son. AU the star in tbo future grew bright in their e, A" they saw the proud place he had won ; And the fast coding evening of tife promiJ fair. n J it! pathway grew smooth te their feet; And the 'arU!:t of love glimmered bright at Ar.l the whUpera of fancy were sweet. In I ;a wiien they stood bcn'ilins'YovrVcr Ine grave, Whereiheir heart's deare jthopes had been laid. Atd bestir had gone down in the duihues of AlI joy from their bosom had fled. But the dealer was there and his arms wero aronnd, Ani he led them with tenderest ears. Aui he "bowed thaua a star in that bright upper world ; Twas their star.) shining brilliantly there. Ihey had cicb heard a voice, ('twas tho voice of their llod,) 'IJure thee. I love tbee. pass under the rod." A j30Y'3 TRIAL. A lit (ft? -foinj cottage Mauds close down to the rI, with two or three melancholy "Vi'.ajro trees .strewing yellow leaves upon it- ro.,f, au J a cluster of gaunt lilac bushes at thv; south cud even the golden crucible i f the tarly December sunshine could not trutiMii ite it iuto aught but a desolate and f :l"rn lucking --.ot. "!itlijr,"?ctl 'itt'e Harry Morton as he .Ijwuth ail of water he had just brought up Iruru the brimming spring in the woods, "'l"i t ynn wMi we lived in a big red house like Mr. OsUjVwiui wVite stone steps,and vtw.- so maty aov of Ian J ?' "An 1 a wag,m ami horses," ad led Char-l'.-y, n M-ut urchin of .seven. Mr. Morton iA mMv v w;! .mg," but her aspirations had i different shape from that of her two . A:. , Hirrv. - A !!t;'. u tiro-?, Mother?" questioned ii 'I'' of Cr most done?" ' tl 1 1 . - 1. 1'V dark. I hone." 'it -y wat. Iiitig his muth- "jJ :i -' i'T a tiiouient or two. ;r-b-?H'altJmih, Harry; I could ' mt -'' J'uur .'oaistatice around I l uUi earn -r,n.iv in I,rt1i u. j;h, r Turn Mun.liv has n -.lnlli,.,. "-I. f..r j j 0 V ' I'cacon Smith. 1 was 1--k aul ake.i iui if I couIJu't eet some- ' k but !,,.. said I was too little." Mr'- M r,, Mnili .l. "AU in time, v "n" - ha!l be very glad wheu you are ' "' t" tarn .siiuii-tbing, but until tlien wo u"; wt ; :ni. o:!y.". A:, l ut po;u.OL.s aiJ(j ijrca,i for j;nncr, ,1 srtl 'k- -tielis iu the stove," said i giiinace. liiereeouies - 1 'i' l : .... uig wa.aoii i II run out and te for hiai." ir?' Vv'g a'n" fi'!otl w'tn rosy red V.' ' T0'1 Ul''I,jS' rumbled through, U,Ly dro,,,, v, w,lip. j , arry ;an t u,,, and ..ometbin,. olJ Ilia.s ; ;;Lredrare, as Le -0l,nk you voi..!MCOUrJScd Liw t0!uk'tt trew- th ! i10'-1 1''1'0' sir do 'ou knw of aw-'-'IcouMdo?'' tari'V eu!'ocd the rmer. "What on a'KS t'lt- boy mean ?" Harry' tara Uule mUey' sir'" plained liourT,;' 0i!ty hesit&ti 2fot half an froDosfj' Wtcn hla buxon helpmate had ti '"S a baoket of "gUliflowers" eid01' at tteatei be had negatived is ca' "a''DS "te ai(1 not believe there in the lot gipsey ne'er-do-1 nuthing better." But uow llar- V ry' bright eyes somehow appealed to his better nature. 'What do you want money for, boy ?" growled the farmer trying to look stern. Harry glanced down at his little red, frost bitten toes, as if he thought the question rather superfluous. "To buy some shoes, sir, and we haven't had any meat in the house for a month, sir." Farmer Oxley whistled, and snapped the lash of his whip. "IiOok here, boy, I'm going to Ledgeport to soil these apples, and maybe I might make you useful holding the horses.or meas uring out. If you've a mind to earn a shil ling, come along. But," he added, as Ilar ry clambered up, "a shilling woa't buy a jnirof shoes." "No, sir, I know it won't," said Harry, but I could lay it up, and perhaps get a .it,.l. j iHbuiu uivjic auiuo uajr. tl'Well said," chukled the farmer, I mess you'll do, young man." Harry wondered what Mr. Oxley meant. bit he did not venture to ask, and sat quiet ly i the farmer's side, while that individu al ok silent note of the boys bright black cur: and big dark eyes, and neatly mended garients. good face," thought the farmer. "I supptsj they must be very poor. I wish I had Rebecca send down those apples. If he ftirns out to be good for anything I may g him something to do around the barn. It ws hard day's work, but Harry cared little fo that, with the twelve cents gleam ing at tl fend of the long perspective. "Wei my boy, I see you're not afraid of work," s.ict Mr. Oxley as, he turned his horses' lmrjj towards home just as the new moon rosajglisteniug thread, above the city spires .4 Harry la;icd. "Are we:ong home sir ?" "Not jus thia minute ; I've got to stop at the Savin Bank. It dont close till live and I must t-rf a little sum out." Harry hel-the horses, while Mr. Oxley went into tlu'oaVik, and gave up the reins in silence wlie-hi returned. "Well, boy.bat are you thinking of?" asked Mr. Ox'. . - "J how n!c It 'must be to have lots of n0y ; Answered truthful Harry. ' "You are yoi )0 sing that song.but it's true as-go-jpcLvfioney is a nice thin!" J iHarry was a pjUl boy that evening as he showed his niajcr the guerdon of his day's labor. "Only see SI cent", and he only promised me a shifnV ; but he said I had earned it, and that .d would'nt begrudge a cent of iu" 1 Mrs. Morton kisc Harry, while Char ley, standing on tipoe to eye the fifteen cents, regarded hia loiher as a capitalist Mrs. Oxley's brig! litchcn looked even brighter than usual, eier husban came in out of the frosty slight to the gleam of blazing chestnut li and the steady glow of the big lamp cthe mantel. The evening board was dulypread with white, new- brtxaj, crisp honeyctb, sweling over with golden liquid, buttet yellow as dan delion, and the fragrant of thinly cut ham, in which the fanuer.oul dcUghted, while a brown coue of rk ging-bread smoked in the centre. "I heard you coining" ski Mrs. Osley, "Come, sit down. A cup J hot tea will take the frost out of you." Mr. Oxlev sat down to the yening mul, thinking, for the ninety-nicK thousand h time, what a good wife he had. ' "And what luck?" deniandet the cornel; matron, cutting off a section of Vcrfiowint honeycomb for her husband's plai "Well, I sold all the applcs-iot good i : ' nriccH lor em. too. ana contractu! tor two l hundred pounds of butter, and "Did you get the money for ny new dress ?" "Yes." Farmer Oxley laid down his kni't and fork, at;d began searching in his pockti for the little "Savings' Bank" book. "I iiust have loft it iu my overcoat pocket." lie rose up to look for it. "Stangc, where can it be?" "Dear me, John, I hope you hivo not lost it." "Lost it ! no, of course not ; where : hould I lose it? Give mo the lantern and I'll go and take a look into the wagon. Mike has not pot it up yet." But the lanturn and the look were alike in vain. No Savings' liunk book appeared. "Rebacca," said the farmer, "you may derend upon it that young scapegrace has stolen it the boy I told you about." "My dear!" remonstrated charitable Mrs. Oxley. "I tell you he has!" raged Mr. Oxley, "and I'll have the money back or have him in jail. I was a fool to believe iu his smooth speeches. They're a bad set, and I have thought so all along. Give me my hat,Re becca ; I'll go down there at once." The little supper of hasty pudding and milk was on tho table at the stone cottage, and Mrs Morton aud her two little boys, after having made the flickering firelight last as long as possible, had just lighted the one tallow candle that shed a faint circle of 'nghtness round the room, when a thun deu'ng knock came to the door. 'rho can that possibly be at so late an hour?'' wondered the widow, rendered a little nervus by overwork and insufficient meals. ... "Mamma, dcn't go to the door. It's a robber, I'm sure, or a bear !" faltered little Charley, dropping tho spoon which had been lifted half way to hia mouth, and hiding behind his mother's skirts. But Harry, fearless of evil, drew back the iron bolts and opened the door. "Why, Mr. Oxley!" "You young vagabond !" exclaimed the incensed man, "what do you mean by look ing at me in that brazen-faced way ? Give me the hundred dollars you've stolen from me, or by all the fates I'll have you lodged in Ledgeport jail before another hour has passed over your head." "Hundred dollars ! What hundred dol lars? I have never seen it, sir," said Har ry, too much bewildered at first to realize the full force of the accusation that had been made, "You lie, you little miscreant ; you have stolen it!" shouted the farmer grasping the boy's coat collar, and shaking him violently. "I think there must be some mistake here, sir," said Mrs. Morton, advancing, with a scarlet spot brewing on each of her pale checks. "I am sure that my boy can never have taken any money that does not justly belong to him." "Onee more I ask you, Harry Morton," said tho farmer in choked accents of pas sion, "will you givo back that money you stole?" "I have never stolen a cent of money, sir," said Harry, indignantly. "That is false, and you know it is." Charley began to cry vehemently. Mrs. Morton sat down pale and trembling. "Come," said the farmer, resolutely, "it's not too late yet to drive down to Justice Hart's, and you will ftud the upshot of all this obstinacy is a bed iu Ledgeport jail to night." "You shall not touch my boy!" exclaim ed the agonized mother. "Harry Harry, tell him you are not guilty." "I have told him so once, mother," said the boy proudly ; "I canoot help if he does not believe me." "I'll see whether Justice Hart won't man age to make' you tell a different story," said Mr. Oxley. "Come, you young jail-bird, we'll have th matter settled at once." He was dragging poor little Harry down the stops, when a cheery voice from the gate beyond arrested his progress. "Halloa! docs John Oxley live here?" "I am John Oxley," said the farmer, shading his eyes to catch a gllmiw tl.iouti. tife darkness of his interlocutor. "Well, then, come and open the gate. I thought I should never make you hear.there was such a racket going on in there." " "What do you want?" asked the farmer, distrustfully. "Why, I want you, of course. Here show alight, well? Yes it is Farmer Ox ley!" 'I don't know who you are though." "Very probably," laughed the stranger. I am Mr. Eiliott.second clerk in the Ledjje ort Savings Bank." "Aud, sir, what may your business here be?" "Just to restore to you your book, and a hundred dollars that you left on our count er this afternoon." "That I loft on your counter?" stammer ed MY. Oxley, letting go of Harry Morton's collar. . "Exactly so," said the clerk. "And you couldn't have got it until to-morrow morn ing if I hadn't chanced to be coming this way to spend my week's leave of absence among the hills." "I am very much obliged to you," said Mr. Oxley, glancing over the bills, to satis fy himself that the number was all right. - "Oh not at all; only the next time I should be a little more careful how I left loose cash lying about." The clerk turned his horse's head away from the gate with a pleasant laugh, as the farmer turned with a crest-fallen face to- , . , . l: .I- J ward tne ntue group siauutng in tne uoor- ""J" "Harry, come here, ' he said. I beg .our pardon, my boy; I've accused you dlsely." "I told you so, sir," said Harry, with btvish dignity, "but you would not believe uk" ? I've been wrongfrom beginning to end," said he. "Madam, 1 hope you'll pardon me., yi: Morton bowed quietly. "Ad Harry, come up to the house to morrV, and see if wocau'tfind something for yrtto do.". Hart went; and years afterward, when ho was to well-to-do farmer on his own ac count, possessed of his ambition "a big red house likMr. Oxley's, and ever so many acres of laid," he dated the dawn of his prospeiity o the evening when he had been falsely acoucd and vindicated almost the same nioniej.t. For Farui Oxley, impulsive, though he was, was gcirousand warmhearted too, and never did'iiud things by halves. An advertisement says Wanted A fe male who has knowledge of fitting boots of a good moral character. An Irishman .-aid, "No printer should publish a death udess informed of the fact by the party decem.ed." Luxury is define as a mistress in whose lap one forgets the- lapse of time, and the slaps of conscience. A vein of copper Q.e, yielding $70 to the ton has been discovered in Farmington.Me. If a toper and a galjon of whiskey were left togethor, which would be drunk first? The Democratic party 'kicked the bucket on the Fourth. Funeral in November. Re vcrdy Johnson will have the pleasure of Mrs. Lincoln's company to England. A Child's Dream of a Star. There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a numlicr of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his constant companion. These two were used to wonder all day long. Tt ey wondered at the beauty of the flowers, tlcy wondered at the height and blueness of the sky ; they wondered at the depth of the blue water ; they wondered at the goodness and power of God, who made the lovely world. They used to say to one another,somctiuies, supposing all the children upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the watcr,and the sky be sorry ? For, said they, the buds are the childreu of the flowers, and the lit tle playful streams that gambol down the hillsides are the children of the water, aud the small bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night, must be the chil dren of the stars, and they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more. There was one clear, shining star, that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church spire above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at the window. Whoever saw it first, cried out, "I see the star." And often they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise and where. So they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down iu their b'eds, they looked out once again, to bid it good night; and when they Were turning around to sleep they used to say, "God bless the star." But while she was still very young, oh, very, very young, the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night ; and then the boy looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, he turned round and said to the patient pale face on tho" bed, "I see the star," and then a smile would come upon her face, and a little weak Voice would say, "God bless my brother and the star." Aud so the time came all too soon when the boy looked out alone, and when there was no pale face on the bed ; and when there was a little grave among the graves not there before ; and when the star made long rays down toward him, as he saw it through his silent tears. ,vNow these rays were so.fcmht, and they seemed to make such a shining way from earth to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed he dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people ta ken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light where many more such angels wait od to receive them. All these angels who were waiting turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; and sonic came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the peoples' necks and kissed them tenderly, and went away with tliora loru avenues vt light, and were 80 happy in their company, that lying in his bed, he wept for joy. - - . But there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one ho knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radient, but his heart found out his sister among the host. His sister's angel lingered near the en trance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people hither, "Is my brother coine?" And he said "no." She was turning hopefully away, when the boy stretched out .his arms, and cried, "O, my sister, I am here ! take me !" And then she turned her beaming cye3 upon him and it was night; and the star was shining into tho room, making long rays down to wards him as he saw it through his tears. From this hour forth the child looked out upou the star as on the home he was to go to, when his time should come ; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but the star too, because of his sis ter's angel gone before. There was a baby born to be a brother to the boy ; and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken a word, he stretched his tiny form uprJh his bed and died. Again the boy dreamed of the open star, and of the company of angels, and the train ot people, and the row of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those pcople'3 faces. And his sister's angel said to the leader, "Is my brother here?" And he said, "Not that one.but another." As the boy beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O, sister, I am here! take me!" And she turned and smiled at him, and the star was shining. He grew to be a young nian.and was busy at his books, when and old servant came to him aud said: "Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her dsrling son." Again, at night," he saw the star and all the former company. And his sister's an gel said to the leader, "Is my brother not come?" And he said,. "Thy motlcr." And a mighty cry of joy wont forth through all that star, because the mother was re-uui-ted to her two children. And he stretched out his arms, and cried, "0, mother, sister and brother, I am here ; tike mo !" And they answered him, "Not yet;" and the star was shining. He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was si ting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again. And his sister's angel said to the leader, "Is my brother come ?" And he said, "Nay, but his daughter." And the star was shining. Thus the boy came to be an old man, and his once rmooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were, slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay on his bed, his children stand ing round, he cried, as long ago, "I see the star." And they whisptrcd to one another, "He is dying." And he said, "I am. My age is falling from ite like a garment, and I move to wards the star as a child. And, O, my fath er, now I thank thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who are waiting for me !" And the star was shining and it shines upon his grave. A Sermon Cut Shout. Mauyyearsago, there lived in Virginia a Baptist preacher named li . .though uneducated he was a sound thinker and an eloquent speaker, and no minister had a more devoted flock. It wa the custom, during the inclement sea son, to hold meetings at the residence of members, and once or twice during the win ter, at the house of the preacher. For many years it was observed that B neither preached or conducted the meetings, when held at his house, but secured the services of some neighboring minister. He was of ten pressed for an exr lanation but without success ; until finally, in response to the im portunities of some of l is flock, he gave the following: "When I was much younger than now in fact, not long alter the com mencement of my ministrations I held a meeting at my own house. It being custom ary for many of the congregation to remain for dinner, Mrs. E sent our ne gro boy, Tim, to neighbor Paul's for some butter. Tim returned and located himself, standing on one foot at a time, on the out skirts of the congregation. Being well warmed up in my sermon, thinking neither of Tim nor his errand, but ouly of the most successful mode of pressing upon my hear ers one of my strongest arguments, I de manded, with all the energy in my power, 'And what did Paul say ?' Tim, at tho, top of his little squeaking voice, exclaimed, as Tim only could have doue, 'He thed you couldn't git any more butter till you paid for what you got !' This brought down the house, and cut short one of the finest efforts of my early ministry. Since then I have kept my preaching disconnected from do mestic affairs." ABeactifclThougiit. Dickens wrote: "There is nothiug no, nothing beautiful and good, that dies and is forgotten. An infant, a prattling child, dying in its cradle will live again iu the . better thoughts of those who loved it, play its part though the body be burned to ashes or drowned in the deepest sea. There is not an angel added to the hosts of heaven but does its blessed work on earth in those that loved it here. Deeds! oh, if the good deeds ot human creatures could be traced to their source, how beautiful would even 'death appear; for how much charity, lucres-, purified affection would be seen to have their growth in dus ky graves LlI-----""" Money. Money does not make the man. The world has a notion that it does, but the notion is erroneous. Money is good in itself; almost everybody has a hearty 'respect and appreciation for it, but it will go only so far and bring ouly so much. After that it is powerless and goes for nothing. . It will be get neither brains for men, nor beauty for women. It will impart no gift over which good sense can take comfort nor decency re joice. It may carry its possessor to the ends of the world and pamper him with all that tho varied climes can offer, but it can not add one jot to his manliness as a citizen. God has written on the flowers that sweet en the air on the breeza that rocks the flower upon the stem upon the raindrop that refreshes the spring, or mos3 that lifts its head iu the desert upon every penciled shell that sleeps in the cavern of the deep, no less than upon the mighty sun that warms and cheers millions of creatures who live in iu light upon all His works He has written, "None liveth for himself." We distinguish four seasons in love. First comes love before betrothal, or"spring ; then comes the summer, more ardent and fierce, which lasts from our betrothal to tho altar ; the third, the richly laden, soft, dreamy au tumn, the honeymoon ; and after it, the winter, when you take shelter by your fire side from the cold world without, and find every comfort and every pleasure there. It is not until, the flower has fallen off that the fruit begins to ripen. So In Iife.it is when the romance is past that the practi cal usefulness begins. Keep up the habit of being respected, and do not attempt to be more amusing and agreeable than is consistent with the pres ervation of respect. Every genuine principle of mortality or religion is followed by a sweet and holy pleasure. . -,: Hot haste is defined as a prairie fire trav eling at the rate of about thirty miles an hour. ' ... " Why are the arrows of cupid like a man in an ague fit? Because they are all in a quiver. .... . ' : The young lady whose feelings wero all "worked up," has ordered a fresh 6upply. If a tree were to break a window what would the window say ? Tree-mend-us. Brazil supplies almost half of the coffee consumed in the world. AH is Well. ! The following exquisite gem is worth pre serving. We doubt if, in the whole range of English literature, anything more touch ingly eloquent can be found : "Twelve o'clock at night and all is well." False prophet ! Still and statue-like at 3 on der window stands the wife. The chx-k has tolled the small hours, yet her face is pressed against the window pane, striving in vain, with straining eyes to penetrate the darkness. She sees nothing, she hears nothing but the beating of her own heart. Now she takes her seat, opens her Bible, and seeks from it what comfort she may, while tears blister the pages. Then she clasps Iter bands and her lips are tremulous with mute supplica tion. Hist ! there is an unsteady step in the hall ; she knows it, for many a time and oft has it trod on her heart strings. She glides down gently to meet the wanderer. He falls heavily against her and in maudlin tone pronounces a nanle he has 1 ng since forgotten to honor. OU, all-enduring power of woman's love no reproach, no upbraid ing the light arm passed around the reeling fignrCjOncc erect in God's own image. With tender words of oiitreary. which he h pow erless to resist, if he would, she leads him in. It is but the repetition of a thousand vigils ! It is the performance of a vow, with a hero ism and patient endurance too common every day to be. chronicled on earth, too holy and heavenly to pass unnoticed by the register ing angel above. "All's well!" False prophet ! Tn yonder luxurious room sits one whoo privilege it was to be fair as a dream of Eden. Time was when those clear eytfs looked lovingly into a mother's face when a kind, loving father.lai 1 a trembling hand with a blessing on that sunny head when brothers' and sister's voices were heard around the happy heartL Oh! where are they now ! Are there none to say to the repentant Magdalen, "neither do I condemn thee go and sin no more?" Must the gilded fetter continue to bind the soul that loathes it, because man is less merciful than God ? "All's well !" False prophet ! There lies the dead orphan. -In al the length and breadth of the green earth there was found no sheltering next where the lonely dove could fold its wings when the parent bird had flown. The brooding wing was gone that covered it from the cold winds of neg lect and utikiuducss. Love was its life, aud no $t-drooied. r.-"-i- ' "All's well !" False prophet ! Siu walks the earth in purple and fine linen ; honest poverty, with tear bedewed face, hungers and shivcrs,and thirsts, while the publican stands afar off." The widow pleads in vain to the determined judge for "justice," and. unpunished of heaven, the human tiger crouches in his lair and springs upon his helpless prey. "All's well!" Ah, yes, all is well, for He who "seeth the end ot tho beginning, holds cvenlv the scales or justice. J.ives shall yet beg of Lazarus." Every human tear is counted. They will j-ct rrtlo as em3 ;tt tU .-row" of "the patient and en during disciple! When the clear, broad light of eternity shines npon life's crooked path," we shall see the pitfalls from which our hedge of thorns has fenced us in, and in our full grown faith, we shall exultingly say, "Father.notas I will, but asthou wilt." Gone. Gone, gone, said a little urchin as he stood on the bridge, beneath which rolled a turbid stream, aud saw the glittering 'coin, that had j'ist dropped from his hand, strike the dark waters below. "It was a keepsake grandfather gave it ine," said tho little fellow in deep regret. "I loved him so, and now his little gift is gone what shall I do!" "Gone," said a blooming maiden as she beheld the form of a friend fadiug in the distance, "and I, perhaps, shall see him no more driven away by my unkindness what shall I do?" And she saw him nevci again, his hopes and aspirations were de stroyed by her unkindness, and he now sleeps beneath the tall pines of the far off Rocky Mountains having fallen by the hands of the red men ot the forest. "Gone, Gone,," in whispered accents fell from the lips of the pab, care-worn, yet loving and devoted mother, as she bent in silence over the lovely form, from whence had just fiown the angelic spirit of her dar ling boy. Ah! tistrue; and his e3'es were closed, never again to be opened till the loud shrill voice of tho Archangel's tramp shall rouse the sleeping nations of the dead. Solemn thought! Gone, gone forever from the lights and shades, the j.ys and sorrows, the bliss and cares of earthly lite. But with a thousandfold of dJrkness and gloom enveloping these solemn words, did they fall on the car, as they came in all their burning agony from the lips of the grey haired and dying scortrcr at the mer cies of God. "Gone, Gone, G'onf," fell from the parched lips of the cursor of God and religion and all that was high, holy and sublime. Yes, gono, the golden opportuni ty to the fcepter of the Prince of peace and washing the sin-stained robes iu the blood of the lamb i'one, the last hope of bliss and joy, ;of heaven and "immortality of peace in the light of God forever. Yes, gone.as the spirit took its flight down,down, down, lower, lower, lower, and still lower, till the dark, fiery, gloomy and suffering re gions of eternal despair threw wide open her Toortals, and the lost spirit entered the abyss of endless woe. Solemn thought ! Gone forever. Gone a spirit that might have soared amidst the angelic hosts of heaven, and added more joy and lustre in the -crown of rejoicing and the diadem of spotless purity encircling the fair brow of .a world's Redeemer. Anecdote of General Grant. during the Petersburg campaign of 1864 several privates were engaged in unloading barrels of "salt horse" from a transport at City Point, and were in charge of a Lieu tenant of a New York Regiment, who took every occasion to show hia authority. To one of his abusive remarks one of the pri vates made reply, whereupon the Lieuten ant administered several kicks to the offen der, who offered no resistance, but contin ued on with his work. A short, thick-set man, wearing a slouched hat, and a rather seedy officer's cloak, who had beetf standing by for some time, hereupon threw off his cloak and coat and proceed to help unload the transport After the task was comple ted the officer donned his coat and cloak and asked the Lieutenant, in very civil terms, his name and regiment. "Lieuteuant , of the New York Volunteers. By what authority do you dare ask such a question ?" "Report yourself ini mediately to your Colonel, utider arrest, by order of General Grant, for cruelty to your men, and remem ber that abuse of privates by officers is not tolerated by the present commander of tho army," replied the "thick set" officer, as he lighted a cigar and walked slowly away. Siciv It. In a certain school there were two boys, whose names we Will call James O and Bob H- . James was a verv good leader, but Bob was a very poor read er, ir.e latter, however, managed to trot into the class of the former, by what means I cannot ay. It often happened that when Bob came to a word which he could not pro nounce, he would cudge James, and in a whisper (if the teacher wasn't looking,) ask what the word was. Once he came to a word that even James could not make out, aud the latter iu a whisper,told him to skip it. Not rightly understanding the advice, he asked the second time, when James, somewhat out of patience, answered, "skip it, gol darn ye, Bob." Thinking he under stood aright, Bob cried out, in his usually loud, drawling tone, "Skipitgoldarnyebob." The effect in the school may be imagined. Bf.EASE Brat. Right in the hottest ot the fight, at the first bombardment of Fort Fisher, just when the big Parrott on board the Canonicus flew into flinders, knocking nine men down, and everything was adrift Tvsnt flocV. w ?tr, llhTxrly Dtttohiuan fell down on his knees by the side of Jack Arm strong's giln.and began to pray . But what little English he ever had in him was all frightened out, and afraid that the Lord on this side of the Atlantic couldn't understand Dutch, he held up his hands, and appealed to Jack : "O Shack I mine goot friend, ront you blease bray for me ?" "No, you ass, do your own braying!" roared Jack, fetching the Teuton a kick that sent him sprawKng into the scuppers. A. -very talkative little girl used often to annoy her mother by making remarks about viritors that came to the house. On one occasion a gentleman was expected whose Kose naa oeen.acciacnciy nattenea neariy to is face. The mother cautioned the child to say nothing about this feature. Imagine her cousternation when the little one sud denly exclaimed : "Ma, yon told me to say nothing about Mr. Smith's cose. Why, he hasu't got any." LcDiCROtu Mistake. A clergyman, at tending a fuueral, had 'gone tn with the ser vice until he came to that part which says : "Our deceased brother, or Bister," without knowing whether the 'deceased was male or female. He turned 'to 'one of the mourners and asked if it was a brother or 'Sister? The mau very innocently replied : "o relation at all, sir; ouly an acquaintance." During a recent performance of "Romeo and Juliet," at Marblehead, Mass., tho fair Juliet's question in the soliloquy, before taking the sleeping draught, "What if thia mixture does not work at all?" was answer ed by an urchin in the pit, who said: "Then take a dose of pills." The effect was elec trie. Stage Manager "John, go and see if the ballet are dressed, for it Is time to ring up the curtain." Boy returns "About ready, sir; got most of their clothes -off." A man in Maine was recently asked to subscribe for a chandelier for the church. "Now," said he, "what's the use of a chan delier? After you get it you can't get any one to play on it" "My dear," said a gentleman to a young lady whom he hoped to taarry. "do you in tend to make a fool of me J" "No," re plied the lady, "Nature has saved me the trouble." ' An Irishman says that "the best remedy for baldness is to rub whiskey on your head until the hairs grow out, and then take it inwardly to clinch the roots." A drunken man leaning against a church in a country town, was asked if he belonged to that church. "No, but I lean that way," said he. 'l wish," said a son of Erin, "I could find the place where men don't die, that I may go and end my days there." Josh Billings Bays : "Thare ia no such thing at inheritinjtTirtue; money and titlez and fever sors kan be inherited." - Questionable people School teachers and those who get up caiechiama.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers