Democratic banner. (Clearfield, Pa.) 1837-1849, November 28, 1845, Image 1

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    BY MOORE & THOMPSON.
mammga
Thc "DEMOCRA'I‘IC BANNER‘QW publixhcd
webkly on Wednesday morning'rfnfll $9 prr mmum
__o, 31 75 if paid in advance. 1‘
No paper can be discontinued (unlpnu'nl lllt‘ up~
mm at [he editor) until all urreurngcs are paid.
”Advorliaomomn. &c..nl lhe imunl rules.
POETRY.
For tho Democratic Bumwr
TO A FAR OFF FRIEND.
Afar from [has and lane and and.
And lou'd on lifo‘n lumulluoul own,—
Mlhnugh n thou-and Joys nro fled.
Yo! mom'ry tonmy lurnu lo meo :
A Imr whose light for me has show
When every my beside had flnwn
Though rivals rim and mnunlninn mll.
Between lhynelfund mov; lluey Ilo'or
Can «perms than from my soul.
Nor mar lhmo image rmgmng thorn:
Thy look of love, lh smile oljuy.
Are unforgol mldlll {He's nlloy‘
Time. ctireo and sorrow may ”have
A thousand ECODK‘B o! husy lit'v. 1.
But never can supplant that plnco
‘M heart nllots but to ~uy mu :
{‘Ond thoughts ofthco are lmg'nng them
That patn ety. und mock dupuir.
Fume. honor. wealth. let other: soak
In mi! and rum—mid hnflln'u atriie.~
Give me Iho highquned joys (hm apeak
thomv. my children—land my wife:
Thcsn Joya by God In man om givan.
To commute on earth a Heaven. N
- J .' T
CLEARHILD. Ya. Nov. 15.x845.
From the Ladiau’ anionnl Mngnzmc
The Land Pirate.
BY J. H. DANA
During lhe “at of rho Revulmion, thé
dismcl of country lying between tho Amer.
rcan lines on Ihe Hudson and the British
outpous above New Yurk. uml cam-d {a
_milliarly the neutral around, was infested
by a an of urelclms, known as cow boys,
skinner: and laml piml‘es. who preycd a!
will on the whigc. A party of them Inna
carried on their mnragss unchecked in clnae
vicinity ol the British lines. under a leader
of redoubtable Courage, \\ ho had once been
a colonial of some came, bu} having squan
dered il m rimuus ”Vlng. had taken to his
present Irregular life on the breaking out
of lhe lroublu.
Accounts of his atrocities had long before
found their way to the American lines; and
the evil became at length so great that it
‘fine determined. at any cmt to extirpate
his company. But this was found easier
to threaten than achieve. Keeping close
to his secret haunts. or moving with aston
ishing celerity across the country. it was
impossible to discover or overtake Hard
ing. for this was the name this miscreant
hora‘
A young oflicer at length volunteered to
enter Harding’s company as a spy. in or
dc! to obtain such information as would
lead tortltis being entrapped. Lieutenant
Vaughan knew that his life hung on a
thread. in such a diflicult mission; for the
weary would be instant death 3 but he was
bold and full of resources; bestdea. he had
a personal interest in the destruction ot the
land pirates. His heart had long been in
possession of Emily lleadley. the only
daughter ofa wealthy farmer. who. though
hitherto a neutral, was suspected of a lean
ingtowartle the American cause : and the
anxious heart 0!. the lover began to fear
that Harding. attracted by the wealth ofthe
iathef‘ct the beauty of the daughter, might‘
sooner or later malto Heatlley’s farm the
scene of one ofhie lawless atrocities.
-It was a dark and stormy night on which
Vaughan disguised as a dcserter. found his
way' to a low tavern near the Hudson.
where the land pirates were known saute
times' to harhor. ‘With great dilliculty,
and not Without exciting some suspicion.
ho was enrolled as one of their number 3
but his‘story 'ttae so well concocted that all
gloubt. after a' nhile. was removed. ()uc
inermng a comrade approached him.
W on are to accompany us, for the fitet
time. 10-nightfi he said. ' The captain has
.resolved to attack old Headley. who. you
may have heard. lives up among the hills.
and is almost as rich as an English lord..—
'l‘hey say.-too. he has a pretty daughter.
but of that I_ know nothing, though. if he
ham] tt ill v'enlur to pay/the captain tvill
.. , /, V
not forget her. C/ .
Vaughan could scarcely conceal his agi
talion during these words. The blow
which harh‘ad long feared, was about to
(all. and he neither had the time to warn
his friends, nor the power to' avert the ca
tastrophe, ‘What could he do? His first
‘ thought was to' desert and hasten to Head
ley term. but he knew he was watched
closely} and that this could not be effected.
In' a few minutes. however. Vaughan
managed to steal away from his comrade.
and sauntered into the inn. lor theyyrere
'then alenother low tavern. similar to the
one where he had first joined the tracheal
era, The bar-maid Was there alone; the
' words in which she spoke surprised him.
' And so. Captain Herding is going to
attack old Mr. Headlej’e house to night,‘
"she said. pettishly. '_ I can tell him it a N
come to no good. Mr; _Heatlley has done
him or the 2003.00. helm; hutfl'it'a the
daughter,- andii‘pt the faihcr'. Hetding’s af
, m. ‘iShcflrél‘used' hitn once when he “as ti
‘, gentleman. ‘an'd’uotV; he’s determined rltr
-';have.het'.’on' his painter-ms. the villain!’
At this confirg'nalion‘ol‘ ‘his' worst‘foaru.
~V.a.'u'gh'sa' coitldhtit withhold a muttered
.flgt‘t'r‘ge. “I: he girl-leaked up.‘ He sswthu
?;:*;.,'i.é.’ lr‘i-},."_ ' uk V ~~ ‘ ,
-- “f 3? - ' ‘ ‘- ‘ ‘ . ‘ »
r“. ‘9- :; , ‘ " './ ’ u . -
V 7!————-————l-—
11:17 Z-A11...-
hisindianation-had betrayed him. and his
eye quailed hem-ath her searching glance.
Bm ho uaa relimed by what followed.
‘ Lieutenant Vaughan,’ said the girl,
bending over and whispering in his ear,
' you see you are known; but you have no.
thing In fearf l uaa brought up near your
fathers, and saw you many a time; my
parents [mined the little place at the foot
ofthe hrll. Ito you know me rttw'l—l am
Kitty Grey." ’
The recognition was mutual. but the
pleasure. derived irom it was alloyed to
Vaughan by what he had now lteard of
Harding‘s intention. Kitty. it aeema, had
listened, pretending to be asleep in the bar. l
while the leader had dirulged to two of Me
confidential followers. the evening before. ‘
his purpose in attacking Headley farm. and
it appears that he had boarded up his old‘
rejection. and had now resolved to avenge
himself by carrying off the daughter of the
old man.b_\ force. 'I he blood of Vaughan
ran cold at the narration. Fortunately Kit~
ty was disposed to assist hrm, for her wo~
man’a nature was not yet so far debaaed
but u hat ill? mold lt'Cl for the peril oi Mtes
Headley.
‘ ll' I could obtain"a trupty messenger
and a fast horse, u e might send word to the
outprtst at‘L—f said Vaughan. . A torce
could then march for the farm and inter.
eopt our hand.’
' It would,‘bo impossible to send off a
messenger 'whiln llnrrling Ia lrere,‘ said
Kitty. ' boardea. “e have no mm to truat;
but 1 tell you uhat ran bcdnrm There is
‘a font animal to the Mable, and I am a good
rider; I will wait till you have set out,
iwltan. by hard gai-lopping, I may reach the
out-post antluiu- timely naming—that is.
if a party of dragoorts happen to be flute.
and will spare neither ultip nor npur.'
' 'l'hera “as a detachment attire post
wlrtu l lelt,’ bflHl Vaughan. ' Pray heav-
en Ihey may he were at, for your scheme
u the only {eaaib‘e one.’
Their furlher (mnrlsnlion was here in’
lerrupred by tho nppomanca of Harding
himself, who eyed Vaughan susprciously.
and ordered hrm gruffly to leave the room.
Our hero could but obey. He trembled
for his accordplice, hummer. as he went
om and saw Kiuy begin a bantenng con
versalinn with the {rceboolen
His comrades were already busy prepa- 1
ring for their ride, and Vaughan immedi
ately occupied himselfin aaddltng his horse.
lie had scarcely finished his task when
Harding came out.
‘ I see you are ready.’ said he, e) eing
him keenly. ‘ and have made upfor your
idling in the bar-room. You will a.tend
close on me to-day ; new recruits are apt
to be suspected, and it behooves them to be
especially ardent.’ He accompanied the-e
word: nith n lignificant emile, which left
Vaughan halfconvinred that he had been be
trayed.
It “as not long before the party were in
the saddle. and the quick pace at which
they advanced increased the fears of our
hero that Kitty‘s scheme would be a fail
ure. since. even if she proved true, and
succeeded in reaching the American out
posts, succnur would come too late.
Imagine the feelings of Vaughan during
that ride. The agony of being broken on
the wheel “as nothing to it! He was
well aware of the inflcxxble purpove of
Harding, and knew that neither present
eupphcationa nor fears of future retribution
tvould tum him aside from his fall purpow.
Nor could Vaughan hope to succeed. sin
gle-handed. in any attempt to avert the
doom of hi! betrothed. At times. from the
peculiar look with which Harding regard
ed him. Vaughan was led to think that the
refugee penetrated hie designs and had
brOUght him along to torture him by u
eight of the ruin to be worked at Headley
farm. Yetthia look mtghtonly arise from
natural suspicion of a new recruit. But
could Kitty have been false? No—her
truth was unmistekeable. or Vaughan knew
nothing of physiognomy. But what if
i there were no dragoona at the post when
she arrived f 'l'heee thoughts agitated
Vaughan continually.
‘ I will die to save her, and if needs be:
he innardy more, ‘I will preserve hef
from profanation by sacrificing hermth my
own hand.’
With these hitter reflections Vaughan
followed his commander. his hearttormen
ted now by despair. and new pacified by
hope. At length lleadley farm broke on
their eight Our hero looked eagerly in
the direction it hence the drngooni. ifcom
ing. would appear; but none were in eight.
lt was just an evening closed, and all a
round wore a calm and peaceful look. He
turned, sick at 'heart. to gaze on the‘old
home:tead:—and when Vaughan thought of
the desolation soon to full on that now hap
py household. his excited feelings could
hardly he controlled. But he felt the ne
ceeaity of disuimulationnif he would even
attempt to save Emily. ‘
‘ Forward—trot.’ said the voice of Har
ding at this moment. havingteturned ftotn
n tecvnnowenceef the butldinga. uhi'chhe
found he he expected, wholly unprotect.
ed ; then, as they reached the lawn before
the house, he shouted. tn'u voice which
first told the household of hie approach.
‘ hultl’ . l , :1.
lnstnnlly the men ‘dmw m theil rcin‘s.
while the hwy barring otdoou was heard
tram lhl! hou-r'.’ It Was .but the wouk 0|
u momen', howavcr, [o‘tfllhp assailant; to
CrL‘EARFI-ELD, PA. N 0 v. 28. 1845
dismount, and before long the hall door
had given way before an axe which one ol
the (runperu carried, though not until a
shot had been fired Irom an upper win
dow. >
'Our motto is 'be'auty and booty.’ ’
shouted Harding. us the door tell in.—
' Spare none. and avenge your lallen corn
rude} With these words he duahed tow
ards the stain-use lending to the apartment
which Vnughan knew to be occupied by’
Emily. .
The cum for which he had breathless
ly waited c‘t‘t‘ since the attack begun, had
now come; and regardlen ol the peril
Vaughan sprung alter his leader, determin
ed to sell his life or frustrate Harding‘s
designs. Almost together they ascended
the staircase. 'lhr: moment was one of
terrible interest. The hand ofthe ruliian
Was on the lork of Emily’s door—that door
which had been sacred hitherto even from
Vaughnn‘a approach—when our hero ar
rested it by a blow with his sabre, which
would have severed Hurding's hand, had
he not caught the flash of steel and sprung
bat k. '
' ”a! a traitor!‘ he mid. cumprthmcl
inzggmy thing .at a glance. _vH halt us.
t'vmshzd at the duscoveuy, ‘then take that!‘
nnd he lrvclted a pistol at our hem. who
saved his life only by knocking up the
weapon with hit blade. In an instant Ihc
tho excited men had crossed bladra; Har
«llng, fmmus at the I'ttcovcry that he had
Ina-tuned a spy. and Vaughan Ihiuting fur
his blwul as the unly chance to save Emi‘
ly.
By this time the refugees were pouring
up the staircase. and. tor a moment. they
paused in astonishment at the spiwtacle ol!
this unexpt‘c‘etl Combat. But it was only
tor‘ an Instant. Recovering from their
sorptise, they threw tlirmlelves on Vaug.
him. who was disarmed and bound. alter
many wounds. He expected nothing lur
thrr now than Immediate death. nor did he
wish to live. Since he could not lave
Emily, he desired to die. He would have
blessed any one who Would have put an
end to his existence. 'Qh ! why did my
good blade lail me?’ he said. ' Why
could I not finish the mincreanti’ To add
to his distress. one ol the servants who
had been dragged into the hall. hud recog
nized him and revealed his name.
‘ You are a lover, then, 01 this fair bird
within, as well as a traitor and spy,’ said
Harding. honrr-e with passion, and mad
oith the pain of the wounds he had recei
wed Irom Vaughnn‘u sword; ‘ then you
shall witness how she shall be my leman.
ere _vou dte.‘
Vaughan urithml in mental agony. Al
ready he tam-med to behuld his betrothed
struggling in the foul arms of the rufl'mn.
' For God’s sake,’ he implored, ‘ 'l'urlure
me—dn whul _vnu will with mc—but spare
Miss Hemlley.'
The villain answered by lufing hold 0!
the door knub, but as he did this, a bullet
whistled in the air. nnd he fell dead, pier’
cell by a pistol hail from an unseen hand.
As he fell a tuzza arose from the stair
case, which '“as now seen In” of men in
the attire 0! American druguonu.
‘ Huzzn—we have them now in a lrup.’
shouted a htenloriun voice, which V'uughnn
vecngnized as that pfhiu commanding offi
cer ; ‘no quarter, my lads—cut them
down.’
The fight was Soon mer—We qeau‘rt‘
could not be doutflful. 'l'hc refugees were
camped up. and had no escape, while their
enemies outnumbered them five to one.—
Harding fell In the very beginning of the
fray. The assault, the melee, and the de
feat passed almost with the rapidity of
thought.
‘ We were just in time.‘ said Vaughnn’e
comrade. When the scuffle was terminated
and every refugee either slain or pininned,
‘ your messenger found us futtunate|y at
the post.’
The terrified Emily now come forth
from the chamber where ehc had fled with
her father; and by her Inir hands were
Vnughno's wounds bound up. After the
war. she and ourhero were happily mar
rierl;nml Kitly, as a recompense for her
services. was taken into the household.
jOltl men still live in the quiet vallies of
the Hudson, who have heard. from parti
cipnnte in that day’s fight, the story of the
LAND I’mATE‘s DEATH.
From Ihc Button Odd Follow.
The True Friends.
. Nell. will you join our Lodge? asked
Frank Gmyson ol Edward Chandler, one
utnmg M they were rclurning logelher
lrum lhcir labour. ' Say Yes, and let me
propose you 10-night.’
‘ I am anxious to. Frank,‘ was Ihe rel
'ply. ‘ but my nife is very much opposed
to my becoming an Odd Fellow, as you
already know.’
UVVeH. she need not know Il,‘ said
Frank, ' and as you are yoursell very well
satisfied of the principles 0! the (Mid.
and the advantages to be derivgd from be~
cominua member. let her [emdin in igno
rance._unu| aCcixlen! mveulm to her that
5013 hpjg been initiated),
_ ‘'l have never yet deceived h'er,’ ‘esaid
Ch‘undlér. . , - .4
' " N'u‘r need you now!’ answered Gray
aon, ‘ (lmugh youwrxha! which she
wouid wish you not to do. But the Inc!
BY J L. BECKE'I‘T.
is. you are my friend. and lam en Odd
Fellow: t youthink well ofthnt whrrh you
do not"know,——l think well of the’Ordef,
because ldo‘lmow its principles; the pr?)-
udicee of your wife. do not arise from any
ill-will toward. the Order; or Its members,
but from the reports olgosaipa, Who are lli
enemies because they cannot be told eve
ry thing appertaining to it; for this lens
on I advise you to say nothing to her‘aboul
it.’
Chandler hesitated a few moments, and
then gave his assent thu his friend might
propose him to the Lodge. The plow-ml
was made—accepttd—ot its next meetmg
Edward Chandler became A member ol
the Independent ()rrlerutOild Fellows.—
He attended the meetings ol the Lodge
regularly, for he was deeply interested in
its proceeding, yet without ever exciting
the suspicions of his wife.
lt was/rt dark, stormy Afternoonrdd'ring
the last winter. that Edward Chandler re~
lurned from his work at an earlier hour
than Usual. and complaining of slight in
disposi'lmn. had retir.:d to his chamber.—
His wife sot rocking the cradle, in which
was sleeping her youngest child. an Inlant
ten months old, while the eldest was qui
elly repostng on a little cot beside her.—
Soe lhougltt ollen ol her husband, and as
she was about preparing to go up stairs.
aslight groan reached her ear. Rising
lrom her seat she immedietely proceeded
to her chamber, Ble found her husband in
n restless and feverish stale. She was a
tone. save him and the“children, and the
night was dark and stormy; she hastily
prepared and applied a few simple reme
dies. and throwing on her shawl and bon
net. hastened to the house of a neighbor”
whom she entrented to go for a phys‘it‘ian'.
An hour elapsed before the physician ar
rived; he tarried but a short time,and
departed, giving Mrs. Chandler directions
how to administer the medicines he had‘
lett. She passed an anxious and sleeplessl
night; her husband continued to grow}
worse. and she lelt him only when her
babe required her attention.
Morning came. yet her first glance lrom‘
the window but added to her anxiety.—
‘ The storm had increased during the night
and her doors ware completely blocked
up with snow. “’hat could she do? She
could only await the arrival of the physi
cian. and she knew not at what hour he
would come. She looked again, and al
most uttered a scream of joy as she saw
two men approaching the house; one at
whom had on his shoulder a shovel. with
which he was soon busily engaged in re
moving the snow from the door. Mrs.
Chandler could not recognize either of
thorn. yet she was ready to admit them as
‘soon he they had opened a passage to the
house. .
‘ How is Jour husband this morning?’
they eagerly inquired; we learned late
lustcwmng that he was sick, and called
to render yet] any assislance you may
m-ed.’
The overjoyed wile hardly knew what
answer In make. an hnth the gentlemen
were strangers to her. Thanking them
{or their kindness, she simply answered.
‘he seems worse than last evening,’ and
imirerl thorn to wa!k up ilflltl‘ On their
entering the chamber. she noticed a sort
ol familiarity in their actions, {or which
she could not account. Altrr speaking
with her husband, and glancing round the
chamber. they \\-hi__:pered together a (no‘
meat, and the younger gentleman left.
but ronn returned oith a physician.
' Your husband in quite sick, madam,"
he saiJ tu Mrs. Chandler, ' but he shall
havelhe very best ul allenllon, and we
trust with careful nursing he will soon be
rEßlm‘etl to health.’ .
.'l‘he physician gave his directions to the
gentleman, and'averything he ordered was
immediately fl/ocured, and applied as he
had directed. -At night their places were
supplied by (Wt) other: who were also
strangers to Mj'fly Chandler; yet their
kindness to her husband awakened in her
breast a leeling of gratitude which she had
never before experienced. Thus iteon
tinued day after day. Every want of the
family was supplied. and her husband re
ceived the most careful attention. Mrs,
Chandler had particularly noticed one
gentleman. who came almost every day
for the four weeks during which her hus
band warmed to his chamber. and his
visits w“ knot discontinued. even after
her husband had sufficiently _iecovereil to
walk about the house. As she could di
vine no cause why they should receive so
much attention liom those nho were stran
gers to them. she determined to inquire.
One morning the gentleman “hose vis
its hat] been so regularL entered the kiteh~
en, and alter answering his usual inquiries
in regard to their _wants. she asked. ‘ S":
Will you tell me why my husband has re
ceived so much atteution from those Who
haste always appeared to be strangers to}
us ‘ I
"I‘he question is easily answered, mad
am ; he is an ODD FELLow.’ _
'l‘ears gushed Irom the woman’s eyes.
‘ oh. sjr.’ said she, ' how much 1 have
Wrongetl thcm’: Did you kmiw how much
I .oppuscd _l‘ldpjpfll’s joining fihcmP—so
mach so.sir. 'thut‘hef‘never informed me
‘ofit. Will you (urgive me, sir? Wha'l
should we have dune“ .had. it not been for
._wur kindness? You} hayg saved me a
limband, and {heae children a lalher; but
NEW SERIESd-VOL. 1. NO. s.omm“; N 0.1003. ?
believe me. had l'knowd'fllc principles of
your Order. ev‘en wilfibut the experience
I now possess. I should not_ have done it.
[I is "My 1: band of Love.‘ ,
A few weeks alter Edward Chandler’s
recovery. he calls on the presiding officer
of the Lodge. ‘I am aware.’ said he.
f that during my sickness. the benefits
mysell and family received amounted' to
more than my standing in the Lodge would
justly entitle me to rem-hm: now. lhnt I
am well aml an!» In wm'k, y-u \nJl luumt
me lo relm-tl ti.’
' Have you not learned. brotherCha‘n-V
iller,’ said the officer. solemnly, ° that’one
of the first principles olour order is CHAR
ITY. and that kind of charity which never
permits a brolher to safer. You will 0-
blige me by not mentioning the subject]:-
gni’h. The brothers knew your wantl.
and they were cheerfully supplied. It
will be enough that you under like cir
cumstances imitate their example.’
Yet many times did Edward Chandler
and his wife mention it to each other. and
oftgn with tears of gratitude did she Men
the day that her huqbnnd became an‘Onb
FELLOW. '
HOME
There is something in the word [some
that wakes the kindliest feelings of the
heart. It is not merely lrieada and kind
red that render that place so dear, but the
very hills, and rocks and rivulets throw a
charm around the place of one's nativity.
ft is no wonder that the loltiesttharps have
been tuned to sing at home, ‘ sw\sethém'e'.'
'l‘he rose that bloomed in the garden
where one has wandered in early years, a
thoughtless child, careless in innocence. is
lovely in its bloom, and lovelier in its de
cay. No songs are sweet like those we
heard among the booghs that shade a pa
rent’s dwelling. whip the morning or the
evening hour found as gay as the birds
that warhled over us. No waters are
bright like the clear silver streams that
wind among the flower-decked knoll:
where in childhood we have often strayed
to pluck the violet or the lily, or to twine
agarland for some loved school-mate.——
We may wander away and mingleinth’e
‘ world’s fierce strife.’ "and form new as
sociations and friendships, and lancy we
have almost forgotten the land of on: birth;
but at some evening hour. as We listen
perchance to the autumn winds, the re
membrance of other days comes over the
soul. and fancy boars us back to child
hood's scenes, and we roam again the old
familiar haunts, and press the hands of
companions long since cold in the grave—
‘and listen to voices we shall hear on earth
no more. It is then a feeling of melan
‘choly steals over us, which, lik‘e‘Oinan’l
music, is pleasant though mournld‘zto the
soul. The Swiss general who I do his
army into a foreign lftd, mutaLarii aufl'er
the sweet airs of Sn: tseiland tofis sung
in the he l’ng bl his soldiers; for at the
thrilling Zimud they would leave the camp ‘
and fly away to their own green hills.—
The African. torn from his willow-braid
ed hot, and home away to the land of
charters and of chains. weeps as he thinks
of horne.-and sighs and pines for the cocoa
land beyond the waters of the sea. Years
may have passed over him. and strife! and
'oil may have crushed his spirits—all his
kindred may have found~graves upon the
corals of the ocean; yet were he free. how
soon would he seek the shores and skies of
his boyhood dreams? The New England
mariner—amid the icebergs of the north
ern seas. or breathing the spicy gates of
the ever=green isles, or coasting along the
shores of the Pacific, though the hand of
time may have blnn hed his raven locks,
and care have plougied deep furrows on
his brow. and his heart have been. chilled
by the storms of ocean. till the fountains
of his love had almost ceased to gush Wlill
the heavenly current—yet. upon some
summer’s evening. as he looks outupon
the sun sinking behind the western wave.
he will think of homo. and his heart will
yearn for the loved of other days. andhls
tears flow like the summer rain. How
does the heart of the wanderer. afterllong
years of absence, beat, and his _eyes fill.
as he catches a glimpse of the hills of his
nativity; and when he has pressed the lip
ofa mother or a sister. how soon does he
hasten to see if the garden. and the orch-'
ard, and the stream. look as in days gone
by! We may find clime‘ag as beautiful.
and skies as bright, and friends .as devo
ted; but that will not usurp the place of
Home. ' .
There is one spot where none will sigh
for home. The flowers that blosgoin there
will never fade; thgwcryslnl utters lbs:
wind along those verdant yalg's will never
c 2499 to send up their heavenly music;
the clusten hungin Irom trees o’ershnd
owing its banks will be immortal clustgr»;
and the friends that met-t “all meet (05‘77'
er. ..Pun‘mn. k]
j" MA'I‘RIMONY. , 1,,
Marriage is Ms?) a Hiring caudlé light ‘
Plnced in n Window 0! a uummervuighh , , ‘
Attracting u I the ihuogxu ofthe nir , ' u'-
'l‘o came and any «hair prouy wmglall than
'l‘huse lhal are :iufubun head- again _: Ihb pane.
And thuuo willuin, bull to gelpul ngiin. ' . a Z
' A dog going ufion ume leggy-gnu}-
ins. banana; he pulodown .:l)rhb'§fid‘cnr
tics, mpg. ‘ oxaomeb’udyfiu’ ; win:-
59‘ Wh‘i- , :v ;‘- ’-; -. ;: 7:5 :Qh‘ 43,5
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