,D. W , .„ 2 100 RE , Earitors.4.
,1. ,. 111 PFLILL, 5 • '
II
I/
a
II
II
:115416Mkaatt
11.41Waily,Paperi'ivill be published' at thei
Idllavingilow‘;l
iti natepv •
; ADVANC*I $1 00
oi , f: it IttIAM::IN 3' MONTHS. 1 25
-.H 1.Y44.4 'IN• 0 DO 1 bO,
„,1 Y.E.; ,4,11, IN 9 DO I 'l5
DO 2 00
r'gkirophi!r will be sent to those who
"pit!!'in' , advance . after the expiration of the
'tinteihrtidibr,
• ‘"Mr.ifet letters on business connected
iteith the '47ce, t!:#'receive attention, »rust be
postpaid: • • •
THE MARRIAGE 'WEIGLE.
=I
- /Vllollllpg Tait .of 1116 and Low Life,
.riiiereoldur readers Vtbil tikli/P . C.Ce it en act'ed,
'or hove rend, that beautiful modern drains or Sir
EdwarcllLytton Bonver, "The Lady of Lyons,"
need loolino farther than the lollo%sing 'Web for
lta•fotimicillen3 • ; I
I was bOrn. in one of those little hamlets
situatedin the neighborhood of MOntel.
initrti in the sotithof France . . My father
liadniade many a fruitless , effort t&raise
himself 'above indigence. His last re.
lottree in his'olaage arose from the exer- ,
else Ora talent which he had acquired in
hisiyouthi that of bellows mending. This,
toe, was.the humble profession which I
was: destined to: follow. Being endowed
by nature mith quick and lively faculties,
both , of mind arid body, I soon grew skil
ful 'in my trade, and having an ambitious
-spirit;` set off: for Lyons, to prosecute my
&tiling 'There. I was so far successful,
that I . .became a great ihvorite with the
haniber-maids, who were my chief em
ployers, and , Whoim my good looks and
youth interested is my favor.
'One evening, however, as I was return. I
• ina , home after my day's round, I was ac
eosted'hy; four well dressed young men,'
Who threw out a few pleasantries on my
profession; which I answered in a style of
good-humored railery that seemed to sur
prise
and. please them.. I saw them look
signifiiantly at one another, and heard one
of them say, "This is our man." The
words alarmed me, but my fears were
speedily:dispelled. "Rouperon" said one,
you shall sup:With us. We have a scheme
- which may do you good. If you do not
agree -to it we shall not harm you, but on
ly ask-yOU to keep our secret. Do not be
afraid, but come with us." Seeing all ofj
th; - ..nr'to be gentlemen in appearance, I did :
riot hesitate to accept the offer. They con
ducted
me through a number of cross
streets, and at last entered a handsome
house, in an apartment of which we found
six other young men, who appeared to
have been waitingimpatiently for my con
ductors. A few explanatory words pass.
ed respectirig me, and soon afterwards we
wit down tosupper. Being young, thought
less and light=hearted, I gave way to the
enjoyment of the hour, and vented a suc
cession of pleasantries which seemed high
ly to please my chance companions. But
they all grew silent and thoughtful ere
anil finally, one of 'them addressed
me thus: "The:ten persona' whom you
ace before you, 'ere all engravers and citi
zens of Lyons. We arc all in good cir
cumstances„ and make a very handsome
living by oar occupation. We are all at
tached to one another, and formed a hap
py:.society, till love stepped in to disturb
us. In the street of St. Dominic there
lives a picture merchant, a man of res
pectable station, but otherwise an ordina
ry personage. He has, however, a daugh
ter, a creature possessed of every accom
plishment, and'endtiwed with every grace,
but all whose amiable qualities are shaded
by 'one defect—pride, insupportable pride.
As an exn mph. of the way in which this
feeling has led her to treat others, I will
own that I myself paid my addresses to /
her, and was approved of by her father, as
one by', birth and circumstances much
their superior. But what was the answer
which The Msolentgirl gave to my suit 7 'Do ,
you, think, 'sir, that a young woman like
me, was- born for nothing better than to
be the wife of an engraver?'
"Her greet-charms and her pride have
been equally felt by us all," continued the
speaker, "and we hold that she has cast a
slur.on usand our profession. We, there
fore, have resolved to show this disdainful
girl that she has not indeed been born to
the honor of being the wife of, an engra..
ver. Now, will you (addressing me) ven
ture.tci beCome the husband of a charming
woman, who, to attain perfection, .wants
onlyito have. pride mortified.and her, vani- .
ty. punished?" "Yes," answered I, spar
red.on bY the excitement of the moment ;
"I comprehend what you would have me
do, and I will fulfil it in such it Manner
that you shall have no reason to blush for
your Pupil?'
The three months that followed this
strange scene were-wholly occupied with
preparations for the pert 1 was to perform.
Preserving the strictest possible secrecy,
my Confederates did, their best to trans-
form me .from oplain bellows mender in.
to:a fine gentleman.. - Bathing, hair-dres.
ses; tte.; ., brought my person :to a fitting
degree of, refinement, while .every -day or
two one of the engravers devoted,himsolf
to'tbe task ofteaching Ine music, drawing
and • other accoMplishments; and nature
had furnished-me with a disposition to stu
dyrind-a- memory so retentive that my
friends weieAtstonished at she progress of
their discipl6. -Thoughtless -of MI else; I
felt the.deepest.delight in acquiring. these
new rudiments ofeducittiort. But the time
came when .1 was to--be made sensible, for
the first Wile, of the' true , nature 'of the . task
Litad 'entered upon:. The confederates at
length)thoright me perfedt i and in the char
tidter,drithe rich fMarimiti .of .Rouperon;
proprietor Of•large 'estates in Dauphinyi
twad:iikrtalled in the first' hotel in byens:-;
lowdsiondoillti's title -that I presented am
st3lfAbltlie picture .dealer .in ISt.. Dominic
street. I made a few:punbities from- him,
and seemed anxious to. purchase more.—
- • •.
• 11- , II E. - . '
~, ~, ,‘ , . • , ,
••.• ... ,„. . ~.,:„- ~.[„ ~,. -,i, i, !Jr., ,, .
. -
..
~. , 7 • lii f ., ,
__.____ • ..
-
• .
N ti
. ~..,.. I, ,„,,,..,.,., :„{-,4irii-i,,,,:i . r!.•• . : ~'...2..„. . „-:•••""I ' - ' •':,, , 1 7 " - -.% . ' ,_; -.' !,_:..- - . ; ......„...,..•', •• , , • ~,..,
..,,- •• . , ,
~ . ~ , . . ~ , • ~,, . _ , ,
~..
~. ~..
; r1 , •
..„ . .1.,‘„ , . r' . . -------- -- A- --- , .1.-. t• , . , •-,,. ~„,. „..,,,- ..,. , , .. .5 . , , , .
, .• - • .. • ,-.. ~, , r.„ f • JiHil'A:ji '. ' .-f..- - .. ~ 4..),E,.....,T5,.. , L , . ,:. - !,f ••'.,, .' ' .
, .
. . 1- - , ,trf • i v s. • 41. •' - 1. -7 3==::: , •?:—.
~ ~ . , . . ,
. .
- • •:' !i :'. : it • • •. ' :. . -
• • , • ,•. vr
•I . i
. .•.,., " !' - • ' ''' 5 !' ' ! I . X . :. - f
- P !! ' :!, :. 4 . • s -.... -- ,• --- .. ,,,,- .7 7 , ,- .7q . : - ,-
I.
J•
•
•
. • .
~ . „..4. ~..,•
, .....
.„
..
~
. ~
. d .
C
I 1 ...
. .46... _ •
• ,
.. ,
~-----
~,_...._...4,7;— , z- , ..„. ._ ..,:-.-: , ,.
-,
.'""...:',fiEr..M.MinerlVal' ..
• 17 :; 6, 41 . ;_ '.: _ . :: '' .'
pr!i,'.!;,,':.,.....,..:,9''
A WEEKLY PAPER: DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE, MORALITY, AN D,FOREIGN AND 'DOMESTIC INT
Vl 7 ollllllke 1.
Alter a little intercourse of this kind, he
sent me word one morning, that he had
received a superb. collection of engravings
from ,Rome, and begged call and
see them. I did so, and was not received
by him, but by Aurora. This was the
first sight I had got of that lovely girl, and
for the first time in my lite, my young Si
palpitating heart felt the power of beauty.
A. new world unfolded itself before my
eyes; I soon forgot my borrowed part;
one sentiment absorbed my soul, one idea
enchained my faculties. The fair Aurora
perceived her triumph, and seemed tolis
ten. with complacency to the incoherent
expressions of passion which escaped my
lips. That interview fixed my destirly
forever! The intoxication of enjoy ing-her
presence buried me on,. blind to every
thing else. For several months I saw her
every day and enjoyed a state of happi,
ness only damped by the self-accusing
ments of solitary hours, and by thh neces
sity I was under of regularly meeting my.
employers, who furnished me 'with money,
jewels, and everything I could itquire.—
At length Aurora's krther gave a little fbte
in the country, of which Lyvas evidently
the hero. A moment occurred,. in which,
thoughtless of all but my love, I threw my
self a suitor at her, feet. She heard, me
with modest dignity, while a Tear of jay,
which dimmed for 4Anourlent herfinc ayes,
convinced me that . pride: Was.bot the only
emotion which agitutea her ,heart, yes,,l
discovered that I was beloved!
I was an investor, but heaven is my
witness I deceived her nut witbout remorse.
In her presence I remembered nothing but
herself; but in tie stillness of solitude,
sophistry and passion disappeared; leaving
a dreadlul perspective before me. When
I associated the idea of Aurora withihe
miserable fate which was soon to fall up
on her delicate hands, employed in pre
paring the coarsest nourishment, I started
up covered with a cold perspiration. But
self love would come to my aid, and I
thought if she truly loved me she yet
might be happy. I would devote lay life,
I swore, to the task of strewing flowers a
long her path. But all my hopes, all my
fears cannot be told. Suffice it to say,
that her father believed the when I repre
sented my estates as being in Dauplii
ny, a distant province. I would not allow
a-farthing of Aurora's portion to be settled
otherwise than on herself. St there was
one baseness of which I was not guilty.
We were married. At the altar, a shiv
ering
run through all my veins, a general
trepidation seized my whole frame, and I
should infallibly have sunk to the earth in
a flood of tears had not some one conic to!
my rescue. The silly crowd around mis- '
took the last cry of expiring virtue for an
excess of sensibility. i
A fortnight aller the marriage, as had '
beeli arranged by my employers, at whose
mercy I was, we started for Montelmart,
ray unfortunate bride believing that we •
were going to a Ihr different place. Sev- I
eral of the engravers were themselves our',
attendants, disguised and acting as court-,
iers to our magnificent equipage. The
awful moment of exposure had arrived,'&
when it did come, it proved more terrible
than ever I had anticipated. The engra
vers mado the carriage be drawn up be
fore a mean and miserable cottage' tit the 1
door of which sat my humble but verierae t:
ble father. Now came the awful disclo
sure. The poor, deceived, and surprised;
Aurora was handed out. The engravers
came up ; they pulled off their, disguises; 1 ,
and ho whom Aurora had so pointedly re-'
I fused, exclaimed to her, "No, madam, no,
you have not been born or brought up for
an engraver, such a lot/would have done
too much honor to you. A bellows rDend- '
er is worthy of ydu, and such is he whom
you have made your husband !" Trem
bling and boiling with rage, I would have 4
replied; •hut the engravers entered the
coach, and like the•ehifting of a scene in .
the theatre, all our grandeur dis ppeared 1
with them! „ . • ! I
Poor Aurora scarcely-heard A i hat had
been said. ' The truth had flash ad upon
her and sale sank back in a swoon. Rec
ollect that I' had now acquired a consider-
able share 'of sensibility and delicacy from
my la to life. . At that cruel moment I! trom- I
bled alike•at the thought Of losing• The wo. ,
Man I adored, •and of seeing her restored
Ito life. I• lavished' on her the most ten- •
der cares, yet almost wished that those
I eareS might prove
unavailing. She re
covered at length hersenses,but the mo._
ment her frenzied eyes met mine, "Men,
ster!"she exclaimed, and was again insen
siblel!!J Ir , profited by her; condition to re
move'. her t from t the sight :of those who: had
gathered around, and to; ph . re:, her on an
humble straw couch.. Here I remained
beside!het till she:opened!. her eyes; mine
shrunk !from i , her glance.: • The ..first use
she made • of.her Speech was tcl.,- interrupt
the broken lexclamations of love, shame,
and remorse which foil from my lips, and
to •beg to be :101l alone fora time.: The
niece of theiCumtn of the parish, however,
I Who: chortled to be •by, • remained beside
; her . ; and . the poor young :victitit of my vii.
1 lainy, for: Ei he was;eighieen, , seemed glad
1 itt hiti altentioni:( ; ; • . • ;•• . , : 1 ,• .
• ',Heal( shall 4 'describe : theihorrible; knight
whielrf If dim , paosedll I ' It :was nat on:my
own account that I suffered or feared.—
She'alone was in my thoughts. I dreaded •
above all, for my love was still predomi
mint, to see that heart alienated whose
tenderness was necessary to my existence,
to read coldness on that eye, upon whose
look my peace depended. But could it
be otherwise? Had I not basely, vilely
darkened all the prospects of her life, and
overwhelmed her wilt intolerable shame
and anguish? Thatilight was a punish
ment which would almost have wiped out i
any lesser sin. Frequently, it may be be- i
lieN:ed, I sent to know' how Aurora was.—
she
was calm, they told me ; and indeed,
to my surprise she entered in the morning
the room where I was. She was pale, but
collected. I fell before her on the ground '
and spoke not. "You have deceived me,"
said she, "it is on your future conduct that
my forgiveness must depend. Do not take
tuadvantage of the power you have usurped.
•
• e,,.:lnr : ac.n i Ar e ttidtles n ts r ‘a, i r.s, i lti e cuil c ilenii e tbli ` lN.i o entis f itetb.:T.rt t i, : v4:l l l,lo C eedu _ rra:e: C ti l d.l.s : .t r cii;s, l loo‘i t ltf e iiiolelciirinai h igll. r t,m i i s b:i.l(uylf: o :.,i‘a fP :drit i eet r ii ( cril i liL d ittt m liill.tiil e ssi
fir
ming 'wild hopes for the future, I received
Int once:two letters. The 1164 was from
,the engravers, who posed my exultation
`and my fell, T hefwrote to me that try
acquaintance had begot in them t friend
ship- for me ; that they had'each original
ly'subseribed a certain sum for the execu
tion of their plot ; and that they would
supply me With money end everything
necessary me,
entering into some business,
and enSuririk the creditable support of
myself and .Atii•ora. The other letter was
' from Anrora'—"Somo, remains of pity,"
she said, "which I feel fir you, notw ith
standing:your conduct, induce me to in
form you that lam in Lyons. It is my
intention to enter a convent, hich will rid.
me 01 your presence; but you will do well
to hold yourself in readiness to avpear be
fore every tribunal in. France, till 1 have
found one which
.will, .
dome justice s ;rod
break the chain in which i Ontl have bound
your victim."
This letter threw me into despair. I
hurried to the curate's, but could hear no
thing of Aurora's retreat, although I he
came assured that the curate and his niece,
despising my condition, had been urgent
advisers of the step Aurora had taken. I
now hastened to Lyons where the affair
now created a great sensation. I lived
unknown, however, and obscure, and saw
only the engravers, who, n o twithstanding
the base plot which they had through me
effecta were men of not ungenerous dis
positions. As they had driven me out of
my former means of livelihooti, I consid
ed myself at liberty to accept a sum which
they o4red me to enter into trade with.
'.lieu told me how to dispose of it at once,
andiAnid it out in a- way which speedily
and ttlthout trouble tp me, augmented it
greatly. Meanwhile, the father of Auro
ra had made every preparation for annul
ling the marriage. This could only be
done by publicly detailing the treachery
which had been practised. Never, per-,
Imps, was a court-house more crowded 1
than that of Lyons on the day on which
the case was heard. ~Aurora herself ap
pearland riveted the eyes ofall pre.sent,'
not to speak of myown. Unknown and 1
,unseen, I shrunk into a corner like a guil
ty thing. The counvel for Aurora stated ,
the. case, and' plead the victim's cause 1
with set much eloquence 'as to draw tears
&Om many eyes. No counsel arose furl
me, and,Aurora, who merely sought a di.'
vorce without desiring to inflict that pun- 1
ishment she might easily have brought
down on the offeuders, wtuld have at once
gained the•suit, had not QJIC orison for the.
It was one of the engravers, the one who
had been • refused, as mentioned, by Au
rora. He made a brief pleading for nie,
he praised my character, he showed and
eenfeSsed -how-1 had been tempted, and
how I fell. . AL lust he concluded by ad
dressing Aurora. "Yes, madam," said
he, "the laws may declare that you are
not his wife, but you have been the wife
of his bosom-1 The contract may he an
nulled, and no stain may rest upon you.
But a stain may be cast upon another.—
Can you, will you throw the , blot ofillegit
macy upon one even more innocent than
yourself?" The appeal was understood
and .was not made in vain. The tremb
ling Aurora exclaimed, "No, no!", and the
tears fell fast as she spoke.
.. .
The marriage was not annulled—was
no longer sought to be annulled. But while
the contract (which I had signed with my
own name, believed by them to be the fam
ily name of the Marquia‘de Rouperon) was
declared valid, it was also determined that
Aurora should remain , unmolested by the
adventurer, who had se fur deceived her.
Every legal :precaution was taken thatj
shoUld have no control over her or her all:
fairs.. Alter this event I did not remain
long in Lyons, where .I heard my name
everywhere branded; with infamy. , Mas
ter, by the means I-have related, of a con
siderable.sum, I went to. Paris, where I
.assumed aforeiga,.name, I. entered bus
iness, and, more to drown•remembrance
than frOrn .any•other cause,.. ,pursued it
.with . an 'ardor which ..few ,haVe ;evinced in
, the like eircurnsbances:..The wildcat spec
ulationsi..weket Those attracted. me
most, and fortune favored me in-a most
Clearfield, pa., Novell
her 2, 1 549.
Markable way. I became the head of a
flourishing commercial house, and ere five
years had passed away, had amassed con
siderable wealth. At times, however, the
remembrance of my wife threw me into
fits of anguish and despair. I dared not
think, nevertheless, of. attempting to go
near her, until it chanced that I had it in I
my power materially to serve a banker in
Lyons, who pressed me much to pay him
a visit. After much uneasiness and anx- I
iety, I resolvedcte accept the invitation.-- .
Once more r entered Lyons, and on this !
occasion with an equipage which ‘‘,as not
borrowed, though as handsome as my for- j
tiler one. My friend, the banker, on be-1
ing questioned, told me that Aurora still!
lived in the convent, and was admired for
her propriety of conduct, and for her un
remitting attention to her child, her boy ;
but he told me her lather had just died,
leaving her almost dependent upon the
charity of the abbess. This recital exci
ted in are the most lively emotions. I took 1
an opportunity afterwards of visiting one 1 !
of the engravers, who scarcely knew me,
changed as I was, but who received me
warmly. I requested hint to assemble the
creditors of the liither of Aurora, and to
pay his debts, giving him funds for that
purpose. I told him to purchase sonic pie
ces of furniture which 1 knew to be high
ly
prized by Aurora. •
Every hour olmy stay in Lyons strength
ened my desire to see my wife, and at least j
to fold my boy in my arms. The feeling
at length became irresistible, and I reveal
ed myself to the banker, beseeching him',
to find some way of taking me to the con
vent. Ills astonishment to find in me the
much-spoken of bellows-aVrinder, was be
yond description. Happily, however, he
was acquainted with the abbess, and as
sured
me that it was easy at least to obtain
a sight of any wife, Ere an hour passed
away my tripod had taken inc there. I
was introduced as a Parisian merchant,
and beheld, with emotions unspeakable,
my wife seated in the parlor of the con
vent, with a lovely child asleep upon her
knee, in conversation with her venerable
friend. Aurora, now twenty-three years
of age, seemed to me more lovely than ev
er. 1 had purposely wrapped myself close
ly up, and she knew me not, though I per
ceived an involuntary start when she first
saw me, ns if my presence reminded her
of some once familiar object. I could not
speak ; my friend maintained all the con
versation. But the bo . wawoke. He saw
strangers present, and descended from his
1 mother's knee. Looking at myself and
my friend fora moment, he came forward
to me. Oh !. what were my feelings v. hen
I found myself covered with the sweet ca
resses, the innocent kisses of my child !
An emotion winch I had no power to sub
due, made me rise hastily, and throw my
' self with my child in my arms at the feet
of ray pale and trembling wife. "Aurora!
Atirora !" 1 exehlimed in broken accents,
"your child clair4t4. from you a father !
Oh, pardon 1" The child clasped her
knees and seemed to plead with me. Au
rora seemed ready to faint. Her lips
quivered and her eye was fixed as if in
stupor upon me ; a flow of tears came to
her relief; and she atqwered my appeal by
throwing herself into my arms. "I know
not," she. sobbed, "whether you again de
ceive me; btitjlkinr child pleads too power
fully ! AtiiirittiS yours "
This event closes my history. I found
Aurora much improved by adversity, and
have tasted a degree of happiness with her
such as no penitence for the past could ev
er make are deserving of. One only in
eident in my history alter my reconcilia
tion with Aurora scorns . to be worthy of at
(cation. 1 took my son and her with are
to Paris, but at the same time, seeing it to
be my wife's wish, bought a small country
house for her near Lyons. Sometimes
we spent a few weeks there, and on one
occasion she invited me to go down with
her-to be present at n fete for which she had
made preparations. Who, were our guests 1
The ten engravers, who were the original
cause (dull that passed I It was indeed a
day of pride to me, when I heard Aurora
thank them for the happiness which, under
1 the agency of a wonder-working Prey i-
I dence; they had been the means of con
ferring on her.
A German professor had collected,a va
luable cabinet of curiosities, which he
highly prized. One morning a friend came
to tell him a very unpleasant circumstance
—that ho had seen a man. get,up a ladder
ihto a window .ef the professor's Muse.—
"Into which window?". cried the philoso
pher. "l am sorry to s'ay,!! replied his
friend, "It was your daughter's]" "Oh
man," said the other, "you almost fright ! .
enedloe; I thought. it had,been into .my
Edribinet.",
THE LAND AND ITSJNDADITANTS.7-4 he
land, or earth, in any country or neigh
borhOOd, with everything in . on ,the
:same, or. pertaining thereto, belongs.nt
all , tines to. the living inhabitants, of, the
saidrcountry or neighborhood in ,ensqoul
manner.. For there •is no living khut.Pll
land, and its. productiOns: consequently,
what, the cannot. live. without,,we have the
scinm.praperty in rts
Thomai Spence.
Nisinber 19.
Scaring a Crowd.
Standing nt a post offico in one of pur
Southern states, I was introduced to a ve
ry respectable looking and intelligent
Methodist clergyman, with whom I ,enter
ed into conversation.
lie.proved a cheerful man, aud the clis
course fbll tipon the eccentricities of Area.
chers. I owe the groundwork of the, fol.
fowing anecdote of the celebrated Lorenzo
Dow to this rccontrc.
Dow was very exact in, the appoint
ments he made, and sometimes arranged
them along way ahead. He once preach
ed near one of the small towns of upper
Georgia, and told his congregation ''on
that one day year he would preach to them
again 1"
The next season, on a Saturday after
noon preceding the Sabbath of the appoin
ted time, the old marovas jogging along
the main road in the - liiiection or his con
grebilOictri.
He noticed before him a stout little ne
gro boy, of peculiar active step and man
ner, who carried in his hand a small tin
horn, such as are used to call the people
to their meals.
The custom among many in the south
is to allow married men to go to their
wivc's houses, and children to visit their
parents, on Sundays, and as negroes are
musically inclined, they carry a fife, or a
horn, or a banjo, to give notice of their ap
proach, and to beguile the way. In oth
er cases they whistle or shout. A heal
thy cheerful negro of honest intention, u
ses generally Sortie 'theans'of association,
even if he is obliged to talk to himself!
Dow according to his usual manner,
entered into conversation with the boy,
and found that he was about to visit the
congregation he had appointed to meet.
It the truth must be told, Lorenzo had
an idea that the character of his flock was
of a reckless, frolicsome, kind, careless
people, upon whom it was necessary to
make a veq decided impression, or his
time woulkihe thrown away among them.
i? your name, my lad'?" asked
Dow:
"dabriel, sir," said the boy, lifting a
new straw ht and showing his ivory,
while he actively stepped along to keep
pace with the preacher's horse.
"Can you blow upon that horn !"
"Oh yes, master I can do a little."
"Well let me hear you?"
So the negro inflated his velvet cheeks,
and made the woods resound.
"Do you know a large tall pine tree
near the stand at Sharon?" said Dow.
"Yes, that I does, very well, master."
Lorenzo then put his hand in his pocket,
and pulling out a silver dollar, showed it
to the boy, and told him if he would climb
up into the pine tree before the people met
at the meeting and keep quiet there until
the preacher called out his name, and then
blow loudly on his horn, us he had just
done, he would give him the silver dollar,
if he did not tell any body about it.
The negro expressed himself highly
delighted at such an offer, and promised
punctuality, ccith secresv.
On the Sabbath a large meeting assem
bled at Sharon to hear the famous Loren
zo Dow. Serious old men, wild boys and
their sweethearts, almost all on horse back
sometiu►es by twos and threes, besides ne
grecs from a great distance, on foot, being
readily captivated by the naturally eccen
tric, for they love anything that has a
laugh attatched io it, and they knew that
Lorenzo was good for a joke even if it did
hit hard.
Dow selected a rather brimstone text,
and made the application as strong as pos
sible, but he liireed his way slowly among
the mercifill, healthful honest hearted peo
ple who were hard to frighten. Ile enu
merated the enormity of the vices ho
thought to prevail, but they were so used
to them that the words slid over them like
water over a ducks back.
At length be boldly described, in the
plainest kind of language the appearance
and character of "the last great day."
and what would be their condition when
that day came ! "Suppose," exclaimed
the preacher suddenly, and then paused—
"that this were the day 'I" He saw that
some of the woman became a little fidgetty
and nudged the fellows into 'silence and
attention. "Suppose," repeated he eleva
ting his voice, "that Gabriel should blow
his trumpet?"
At this moment the little negro showed
he was "a trump," and from the top of the
lofty pine, a loud an clainorous blast over
whelmed the audience. The
shrieked, the men rose in great surprise,
the horses, tied around the camp, neighed,
reared and kicked, while tit.e terrified ne
groes_ellianged their complexion to i a dull
,purplo'color. Never .was.•sarprise,!tilarm
and astonishment morepromptly exhibited.
Lorenzo. : , Dew looked ( with gravel ! hut
pleased attention upon the: successful result
of his experiment, until the - first clamor
had subsided, and some began to estimate
the character ofithe, artificial an (rel and
about tp , apply a little _hick:oly , the
pipet- But this, suggestion
.by the,lpuci and, s,olenah tones et ; the - ikia•
cher, who looking very firnily,'lo Or ra •
ces of his disturl?edapdience, 'he teailedn
,Myr therl4 4o . fflPPlineeiltis,disceriejrippres
sivelv remarked—
• PRICti OP ADITATISINB ___l
----"'
. , • ~. J ~ ..., .-:,-.....1•,. ,:.• ~.,..., ~.
1 &Fare of 16 lines, or lees, 1 insertion. 00 50
I 6(1 -,rdo'. • do ..',' , ,3 ; 7 fillp • ICO
' lash su6sc4teient 'iniettelit , 025
1 do 3 manila - 260
1 do .„6 months '„ . . ;. . ..: ':- 4'90
—1• do ig months . ..- • -.1 00
' 2,'‘dn' . 3 Month* '' ' "''''''' f '5 00
2 ,. ..rt0' 6 Month's. '. . -- ' ,.l"J i ,'..@ 00
2. 40 ' ~ 12 7antl4,' . , ...,,, ~ . ~10 110
, a do •3 months
C; , ..3% do'.' 6 whale; . -2 oo
4'' •do • .12 months , , . • ',1.2 00
, do or.haV a, column, 6 eitondrs, , 12 00
5 do ier Va?(' a r'olumn,l2 nunlike' ' 4 20 00
i
' 0 do or one column,. 6 months 20 (H)
10 ', (10 , nr me column, 12. months ~ 30 00
Books, lobs am1„81inki.......
Of voci'y description, prirlicti , :n the very best. style.
• eind.on the shorted negro, al: MC ,(,Q IINT11) . PQL•
LA I? Ojlicc
- . .-I
'''"Arid'n'ow;'ifalitile negio boy, kith n
tin hem p tOrof' rilit)ine-:bush , can
'make" }r(Sit feel so; how Will you 'feel , when
the day' doe's"e. orei!"*-".N. Bpiri - t• of
"I. • • •
'A I '
fonfwev acepunt ?f "one of the
Thachors,' liom the Yat;inouth
ter:;
Traditiqn, has preseiled a singular an
ecdote oriohn Thacher, a son of one of
the earliest settlers of this town. lan was
married in 1861, j to A , loe Rebecca ;.Wins
low, of Duxbury, in Plymouth county: ? . if
we mistake not. On his, way home with
his newAiridei he stopped, for , the• night
at a house of a friend, a Col. Gorham, of
Barnstable, one of the most prominent cit
izens ofthe town. Merriment and gayety
prevailed, and during the evening a female
infant about three weeks old was intro
duced, and the night of her, birth • being
mentioned, Mr. Thai her observed, 'that
is the very night on which we were mar
ied,' and taking the child in his arms, he
pres4ted it to his bride-,and jokingly said,
'Here, m) dear, is a little lady that was
born on the same night that we were mar
ried. I you would la's her, for I in•
tend to have her for my second wife.'—
will, my dear, with great pleasure,' re
plied ,she, 'but I hope it will be very long
before your Ina 'Thou is fulfilled in that
respect.'
Mr. That lite and lived harp -
ly together for about twenty years, and
faithfully fulfilled the scriptural injunc
tion to multiply and replenish the earth.—
Mrs. T. left a large family of children,
mong whom was a son named •Peter.
After Mr. Timelier had mourned a rea
sonable length ahem he began to think
of getting another partner. None of the
maidens, young or old, seemed to please
him like Lydia Gorham, the little lady of
the precceding part of the story, now
grown up, if we may believe tradition, to
l a fair comfy girl, 'MI of gushing life,' as
the poets say. But there was one impedi
ment in the way. His eldest son, Peter,
had show n a predilection for the girl, and
the old man wars at a foes to decide wheth
er she favored the 'suit of th sire or the
son. The one road a black horse in jris
visits, and the other a white. There were
a kind of tacit agreement between the two
that one should nut interfere with the oth
er in their visits; so when the father fouri l d
a white horse tied tin front of Col. Gor
ham's unlike the good Samaritan he ems
bed over on the other side ; and the son,
when the black horse was there, retUren
ed the litior.
Thus things went
,on till the patience of
the old gentleman Was well nigh exhatist
ed, and he rested on a desperate step to
decide the maW. Taking hisson on one
side, he said to hint
"Peter, are you or are you not going to
mitrry Lydia Gorham!"
Peter replied that he had not yet made
up his mind.
"Well," said the old gentleman, "I will
make you an offer, if you will give her up
and court, her no more, I will give you
thirteen pounds in money and the pair of
black steers. What do you say to that V'
The young man hesitated but a mi.:i
ntent.
"Tis u bargain," said be.
And it is due the parties to say that it
was observed by them all with good faith.
Whether Lydia knew the bargaining that
her charms had occasioned, tradition sa.
eth not : but she subsequently . became Mr.
Thacher's wife, bore him ten children,
from whom many members.of the numer
ous and highly respectulile ,family of the
Thacher's have spriing,. iptir Venerable
townsman, Mr. Peter Thachey, is the g reat
grand=son of,Peter, noticed above.
. There are 4E3,000,000 . serls in Russia,
of which 20,000,000 belong to tha crown,
and 26,500,000 to the nebles. ,
.These serfs tire .bought and sold with
the land. Some of thern are mechanics,
but the greater part, are. farmers.. Each
serf .has as much land r at he eau cultivate,
the use of which he pays for in money, or
in kind. These rents are vary reasonable,
and many of the serfs .Veconne
,vcry"rich,
for their property ,is sacredly protected.-
-There is no country. in,..1110 world whore-IL
man.can rise, so rapidly, as in Russia. „.4.
lecturer mentioned tIIQ case of tt n,. who
has risen from p...conditin of.serfdom to
be the ownerof 100,000 serfs. ,In
,Peter
the Greitt's'day;,tlie higher 'offices in` the
army Were open to rtlie,Serfs:
The dress of serfs, fOil the most
most part, is yeryrudi They live . init.
cabin,ftllleen'br twenty eet
.
One ream, in 'the centre of which
is tr,table,,and around the tides is a bench,.
Miteb; being turned over - at night, fOrnis
their bed: .This is kept intenSetr'
hot 'by stove, but the`' injuriotis'etreet, of
s rent' heat iS'eotutierticted,hy the smoke '
:Which Is , produaed by'sbuttinA o(t tile' line:
whop .;he charred. , •
:The most pleasingpight to . and'
ptrugglitig i 'tO befree ;,—the,
tense inAt, that of fieedorn:
'Urb it : fP ( ') "
. ridge tr .o tee,
• •
Eli
Serfs in Russ.is,
jrtlio yf
,7.sn`dfilee:r.,