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•BY ROBERT W. lIIIDDIXTON.
"With after:Psi flowers cnrich'd
From various gardrns cull'd Mith cart."
From the Boston Advosate.
the annexed is the kftern id or a wirE whose hus.
baritt is at sea, and she in prison for &debt which
she can neither pay, nor prove her marriage—
and more, has no funds wherewith to feu a law
yer to obtain her release. .
THE WIFE'S LA ,lENT.
Shine on, fair star—thy ray to rim,
May shine forever, and in vain;
Shadows thy hriglit,lirry,riorious reign,
The pang of ill—of destiny—
Away—beyond the sparkling sea,
Journeys my loved, my Only one,
--And lam cast, sweet one, from thee, .
To grope this cell, unblessed, alone! •
This cell; hut thou, in dreams, art near,
When fancy breaks this grated wall,
And I remember scenes once dear,
hen night spreads round her murky pall.
us home—my rest--my grave
I never soil'd by reckless crime; .
Pure, as the ocean's purest wave, •
Believe I am, where'er thy clime.
I sing, dear ono, thy faVor'd sling,
When eve her mellow twilight sprawls--
Am happy, though the rich one's wrong,
Hangs heavy o'er our injured heads.
Hut when, in other days, the turf
Shill bloom and fade whore, still, I lie
Close to the murmur of Yon surr,
Then sleep beside me, when you die.
This cell—these bars—forget them then,
But still remember all our
Ere came the blasting ills of men,
To crush us, up to happiness.
My song is done—the swan's last lay,
Tlus dying note of her, once thine,
And as it flows to Heaven away, ,
its tone is thine, and thou art mine.
4 Tllk'Tii 7- 0 SISTERS:
A SKETCII---BY KOTZEBUY..
In a large city in Germany dwelt two sis
tors, .Teannette and Pauline. Jeannette had
the good fortune to be very handsome, and
the bad fortune - to find it out very soon.—
She soon accustomed herself-to look in the
glass—that was natural; she soon took pains
in dressing—that was pardonable; she en
deavored to acquire accomplishments—that
was prudent; but she thought nothing more
was- . ..-mosesary—that was foolish. True,
she Played well on the harpsichord, and sung
bravura airs with taste; she drew landscapes
after Heckert, and embroidered flower's from.
nature. Bat she only played' the harpsi
chord in great companies, and only sung
airs tit concerts; she only drew landscapes
far exhibition, and embroidered flowers for
sofas and screens. Ai how,- time passed
tediously, although her old weak mother
was continually praising her beauty.. This,
old truth could only give pleasure by pouring
from now lips;"' hence Jeannette was - main;
tiallv'seeking new society. Ladies always
practice a certain oconoin'y in the praise of
other ladies; but gentlemen, on the contra
ry, are generally very lavish of praise; and
therefore Jeannette was fond of the society
a. g entlerhen.
• Her • sister Pauline wield probably ,have
Thought and acted in the same manner; but
no ono praised the poor girl, simply because
• no one noticed her, for the small-pox had
rendered her appearaneeliomely. She was
alSo far behind her sister. in showy accom
plishments. Slal played the guitar and sung
--ogreeably-onerely-sithple-little- songs. She
Was not behind Jeannette in the art of draw
but, except a few landscapes which-hung
in her-mother's chamber, which-no one but
her thother saw, no one knew of her talent;
for the homely Pauline was as diffident as
the fascinating Jeannette was unembarras 7
„, sed; and it only required a second lOok from
Ray one to cause_lier blush deeply. Fortu
nately this did not often- happen, for no one
looked at her twice: She embroidered as
[Oiler sister, but only upon work bags
for aunts and grandmothers; She appear.
ed best at hotnoin company the consci
ousness of her homeliness gave her an air
of constraint; but at Immo- affairs could not
• go on without her. -
When the - girls
urc their mother
thought proper that they should take charge
'of the house, each one by turns, week about.
Pauline soon became accustomed. to it, and
;ti t her week all things went on right. When
.teannette's turn came, she hurried about
busily the whole forenoon, but when noon
came the dinner was spoiled. She grieved
also at the, time she lost from hal- singing
and harpsichord, and at the little time which
Was Jeft` - her to arrange her heal dress for
her evening parties. The good-hearted
Pauline frequently took her task offher hands
rtntil finally the practice was neglected or
Yelievingoach other weekly, and Jeannette
troubled herself no more about domestic af
fairs,' The weltk ''mother td not interfere,
. for; she could not be displease - d with the4o 4 ?-e-,,
ly-face which pleased every body. There'
could be no large party unless „Jeannette
• Western graced it; her name served the
.ponts for a subject, and was the nniversa - T •
Stott, Few only that - ehe,• had it •
• _ .
- mister. •• . • - • • •
TnrP young oflionro„Bdivard and Maurice
Ml,W•Tetumetto-tuni both b i eCante nittrernitly
ituunored.. Both were OfgeOsi &idly, brave •
• • . • • , •
. . , .
: . .
DUCIT AMOR P ATRIA? PROD ESSE CIVI B US-" THE: LOVE OP MY COUNTRY LEADS ME TO BE OF ADVANTAiiE TO MY FELLOW,CITIZENS."
noble, and both very rich. Jeannette was
delighted with her conquest, and her moth
er, who was in moderate circumstances, in
dulged herself in sweet dreams of futnre. -
"If both should be in earnest?" said she to
her daughter, "which will you prefer?" "I
don't know - myself;"-answered - Jeannette,
"they both please me, but I shall like the
richest one the best. Then I shokild take
care of you mother, in your old age, and I
would have my sister to manage my house
for me." The doating pareet wept for joy
at the filial sentiments of her-daughter, and
Pauline was grateful for such a mark of sis
terly affection. Iu the mean time both of
the young men wooed earnestly for the beau
ty's favor; and both wore equally kind to the
homely Pauline, because she gave them the
pleasure of being alone with her sister. Jean
nette was really in embarrassmeitt which o
her adorers to prefer. EilArd gin a, ball,
at which she was queen, aiaT she , thOught on
that evening-- she was irk a fair way to love
Edward. Maurice gave a sleigh-ride, and
she flew along the street in a splendid equip
age, and on that day she thought Maurice
rnore.amjahle than his rival. So she delay
ed VI. ildeision from one day to another, at
tributing her hesitation to her heart.
"If I were in your place,", said Pauline
one day; "I should tab Edward."
"Why?—Maurice is as rich, and you will
acknowledge he is handsomer."
"lie is generous too," replied the mother.
"But he is fickle," replied Pauline. "Our
aunt has told me a good many things about
"Our aunt;" answetdd Jeannette snappish
ly, "is an old aunt."
"Edward, on the other liana," continued
Pauline, "is more steady; and I think I have
often remarked, that he feels more deeply
and more sincerely than Maurice." -
"Pshaw !" said Jeannette, tossing her
Bead while she stuck . a flower in her-hair
before the glass, "They both feel so deeply
that I hardly know how to manage them.
Meanwhile, what harm will there be. in de
laying my choice awhile? Their rivalry
makes my tune pass very pleasanly, and fi
nally- accideyi will decide." Pauline was
silent. Both suitors continued their atten
tions without remission.
One day as Edward entered the room, ho
found Pauline 'in' tea Wind Jeannette laugh
ing loudly. He as modestly the cause
of the tears and the Altighter. "I am a child"
said Pauline blushing, and 'ell the chamber.
"A child indeed," said Jeannette, laughing
after her; "you would never guess what she
was crying for."
"if it is not improper to ask"—
"Oh not at all.. You have probably some
times remarked the old blind dog that used
to lie on the sofa? r He was mine, and in his
young days used to make a good deal of
sport. This morning he broke a handsome
dish. At first I fretted a little; at last_J
thought the. old blind animal was good for
nothing, and only did mischiefl•so sent hitii
to a huntsman and had him shot."
"And that was the cause:of your sister's
"That was it. One would think we were
living in the times of romance."
Edward was silent, and soon changed the
conversation. But after that time he never
overlooked Pauline as he had Formerly done.
He conversed sometimes with her, became
acquainted with. her unpretending -worth,
admired her modesty, and began to .think
her appearance less homely,' Yet when the
ascitialing jeannette appeared, hor charms
made him forget Pauline. • ,
Jeannette had prepared a splendid mas
querade dress for the• character of a Sultana
for the carnival Which was approaching,
when her mother was taken sick. Pauline
was to have accompanied her as her slave,
and had prepared a becoming dresi for the
occasion.' - Thu day arrived; the illness of
the - mother had increased; the looks•of the
physician, although he said nothing, made
Pauline determine not to go to the masque.
rade. • Jeannette give herself but little trou
ble to persuatie her to go, and went without
"Where is your sisterf" Asked Edward. ,
"My mother is not well, and Pauline has
remained at home for company." He was
pleased at that; but he had littleirme to
think of it, for Jeannette appeared more
beautiful than ever, and neither he nor Mau
rice left her side. She enjoyed the triumph
of being admired in the highest degree.—
Whenever she danced, a crowd was formed
:around her; wherevei she 'went, she heard
the voice of flattery.
Towards midnight, just as she had prom
ised to dance a quadrille with. Edward, 'a
domine came up and took off his mask; it
was her mother's physician. "Miss," said
he, "I have just come from your houge, arid
I dare not conceal from you that your mo
ther is very ill:" to
. "Good Heavens l'llefexclaiined,terrifled
arid perplexed, "I mustgolOmement.".
• "By all' means," said fEtliva * rd, "let us
go."k • . . .
Just then the mtisic cm-minced. Jean
nette,fOoked; round embarssed; Edward
offered his services to look fir her servant.
She was.just at the point oftequestin him
tQ dolep, when one of the &miffs in the set
took-hat hand and ceffirfteiled :the fi guil•
SW obeyed mechanically, b to_ la-
VritnZLCUID.A.T9 E.LICLE 00020S1
dy standing next to her, "I cannot dance
any longer, my mother's sick." "0, do not
rob us of the ornament of our quadrille," said
a young rich Englishman--"A few minutes
can make no ditference.". She looked at
Edward as if she wished him to decide for
her; but he was silent. It was now his turn
to dance... The person next him jogged
him=he cast an Inquiring look at Jean-
nette; his neighbor reminded him again—
Jeannette did not refuse, and so he danFed
the figure with her, and the quadrille was
finished without any thing more being said.
She would then' have goner, but she was so
heated that she would have taken cold, by
going into the air. After walking up and
down an adjoining room for some time, sho
went home, and Edward accompanied her.
As they went up the step they saw tire in
the kitchen, - Where Pauline was at the fire
place, preparing something for her mother.
Her countenance, reddened by the glow of
the fire, appeared handsome, • this time, to
"It is well you have come," said Pauline
to her sister, "mother has been very sick,
' & I have frequently had to leave her alone."
Edward felt himself in a singular frame
of mind. On this very-evening Jeannette
had dropt some hints,which gave him hopes
of gaining the victory over his rival. His
delight on that account, however, had been
very much moderated since the last .qua
drille. A film fell from his eves. Ho was
able, for the first time, to look upon her
beauty without a violent wish to posses her.
He would probably have renounced her im
mediately, ifianityad not whispered that
she would have intadiately left-the ball if
she had not been dancing with him; and.that
it was he who had made her forget her duty
for a momenta. His feelings could not with
stand the flattering thought of being belov
ed by so beautiful a girl, and all that reason
could win of him was a determination to pUt 1
her supposed aflection to the proof.
He Wined until her mother recovered, 1
and I hen went•otie day with an air of trouble I
in his countenance to 'Jeannette, and inform.
ed her that his estate in Suabia had been
ravaged by the cnemy, and .that it would
take at least a year's rent to put it in its for
mer condition. "But," udded he tendeily,
"if Jeannette only loves me, my incomewia
be sufficient to protect uafrom want." She
was visibly shocked, and changed colour as
he began his relation. end her end
conceal her confusion didlnct . efra himy
An anxious pause ensued.: She sc9 hevf
ever recovered heecomposurf, laid her hand
upon his in a friendly way, and said, "my
good friend, I will not deceive you, I am a
spoiled child, and cannot do without a great
many things. We are neither of us roman
, cers. We know that the hottest love will
I grow cold in a cottage. That lam well
inclined towards you, I will not deny; but
we must act reasonably 7 rdmain my friend."
This declaratiorrwas a thurst in the heart
of Edward; but it was a beneficial operation,
—the wound soon healed. He soon after
wards repeated the story in presenceof Pau
line. She did not look up from her embroi
dery, but he remarked that her eyes were
moist: "What gives me the most pain from
this misfortune," continued he, "is the pov
erty of my mother—my good mother. lf I
should devote tae whole of my income to
her, it will not be Buflicient to provde her
the luxuries to which she has en accus
tomed; and you know that po rty always
depends _upon the different - ants of man
kind." Pauline raised her ad and looked
at him kin_ She sa' nothing, but her
countenance spoke. 'he needle trembled
in her hand. She bethought herself, and
continued her embroidery. After a pause
she asked, as if merely to renew the conver
sation, "where doe§ your mother reside?"
Edward answered at Stingard,where, in real
ity, she was in the highest circle of society.
Pauline then spoke of the pleasant situation
and advantages of Stutgard, and nothing
more_ was said of Edward's misfortune.—
For the purfiose of confirmiu what he had
said of his losses, he linited his expenditures
and sold his fine-horses. ' He continued to
lisit the two siste'irs, and the calmness of his
feelings`-permitted him-now to see a thous:
i l and little things that?had formerly escaped
him. None of his observations were of a
kind to rekindle his former.love; ork,the oth
er hand, Pauline daily appeared more ami
able tchinhand her home:iness less striking.
As he now conversed moreswith her than
with Jeannette, she felt more Confidence to
wards. him,, her bashfulness was conquered
and-she unfolded herheart. What conduced
very much.tn-t,hisi . m;lts the modest supposi-
. Edward could have no thought
of -a marriagcwith her; that rernOved'her
embarrassment, and she showed her pure,
unrestrained, sisterly (action. •
Jeannette, on the other hand * .did not' re.
ceive much pleaure.from his visits 'which
were-especially disagreeable When kaurice
was present.. To him she now cOnfiried her
whole eoquetry, and soon drew the net so
tightly oVerhinn, that he - besouiht tier press
ingly every day, to rrndie - him. the most en-
,Of mortals, -at the ajtar. •She.still
took airs upon herselfsnd teused him for a , .. .
whileiand • ut last kilt ingly irivit , her consent.
Tile lover ..ivaa delighted excessively, and
the mest expensive preparaiieris more 430 . m,
inence,tl 'fin- the' nupVials: __ ..' ' ••. 7 ' ..
Meanwhile'Edward continued very calm.
He was no longer in love, but it appeard to
him at times as if he loved Pauline. His
wish to see her, if he had not seen her for a
day or two; the quickness with which time
passed in her company; the unwillingness
With which he separated from her—all these
things often made him think "what if I
should offer Pauline my hand?" A surpris
ing occurrence suddenly decided for him.
He received a letter from his mother,
containing a bill of exchange upon Stutgard
for one hundred dollars, signed by one of
the principal bankers of the place in which
Edward resided. "1 cannot comprehend,"
she wrote , in her letter, "why it should have
been sent to me. It was sent in an anony
mous letter, in which I am besought, in a
few lines, not to despise the gill of a good
heart." A flame blazed in Edward's breast.
He trembled--his eyes sparkled. He bur.
ried to the Banker. "Did you draw this
bill of exchange?" "Yes." "For whom?"
"-I have been paid the value." "By whom?"
"I cannot say." "But the bill of exchange
was sent to my mother." "I know nothing
of that--it is no business of mine." "I beg
you to tell me the person." "I cannot. "
"You will probably cause the happiness of
my life." The banker looked at him with
surprise. "Will you tell me the truth if I
wine the person?" "Yes." "Miss Pauline
Western." "You have guessed it."
Edward hurried out. In two minutes he
lay at . Pauline's feet and asked her hand.—
She was confused—she could not answer—
she sighed. He put his arm around her—
"Am disagreeable to you?" She sank
upon his breast. "Oh no.- I have long
loved you; but how could I hope." The
first raptures of love flowed throughtwo no
ble hearts. Pauline could not comp ehend
how Edward had taken such a sudden - vio
lent resolution. She often asked the reason
—he smiled but did not ansarer.
Her nuptials_ with the, oor Edward were
fixed for thesame day, on which Jeannette
was to marry the rich Maurice. Pauline
made dispositions.for strict frugality in her
future doianistirs; her white plain bri
ll!' dAss'lign . .tifigted poiverfully with the sil
ver lace of her Sister. Edward preised her
to his heart and smiled. "To-morrow;"
said he, "I 'will inform my mother of the
choice 1 have' made, you must also add e:
letter." Pauline promised it, not without
some embarrassment, and Edward smiled
again. On the next day she handed the
letter, but showed him at the same time her
finger bound up, which had compelled her
to get her sister to write the letter. Edward
kissed the finger; cast a look of love upon
her, and a tear stood in his sparkling eye.
She blushed and thought something was not
right; but he said "very well," and smiled.
The marriage day appeared. Edward
came early in the morning and laid a val
uable necklace in his bride's lap. Pauline
was astonished, but Jeannette was more so,
for the necklace was more valuable than
her own. "I have been practising usury," ,
said Edward jestingly, "a little sum, advan
ced by a noble lady, a friend of mine, has
doubled itselfa thousand fold." "By a no
ble lady?" said Pauline. “The necklace is
very fine," continued Edward, "but what
adorns it the most, and will make me the
happiest of men, is concealed in this paper."
She opened it confusedly. It was the wed
ding ring-folded in the bill of exchange.--
Pauline recognized it at the, first glance, and
cast down her eyes bTushing. Edward fell
at her feet. She sunk down. "To deceive
me so!" whispered she. ,
When all was explained, Pauliiie's moth
er embraced her, while Jeannette tossed
her pretty head. She endeavoured to con
ceal her vexation; but her marriage day was
the commencment of her matrimonial ill
Several years past; EdWard found to his
astonishment that he had been blind, that
his wife was really handsome; and his do
mestic happiness increased eisiuy day. Do
mestic happiness never — made its home with
Jeannette. Pauline was surrounded by
bloominechildren. The sifters seldom saw
peach other; for Pauline lived only for her
husband and children, Jeannette only for the
great world. Here she found sufficient a
mends for the only true , happiness of mar
riage, as long as her beauty daily at
tracted new adnr.rers, and , as long as^her
husband's riches afforded the means of ex
pensive luxuries. But alas! her charms
began to vanish- , ---shc3grew sickly----the af
fection of her huiband became deadened--
his coffers-were emptie&—poverty introdu
ced discord. They avoided one another; ma
dam ran in debt—Monsieur gambled away
her jewels.. 'l,:they began with complaining
i te r &
and ended with r • • :ch At length, one
morning Mind : •de away, without taking
le a ve , , ... , ever heard of afterwards.
"• • r and helpless Jeannette was forced
to, seek anasylum with her sister. She was
kindly 'received, send treated with the most
tender forbearance; but her conscience was
not at - ease a violent cough enfeebled
frame; and in er twenty-eightla year no
crab° of her fUrmer beauty. remained. Her
Mind was soul* and embittered sd that she
was rendered unfit for any dembatic: joys.= , -
The dervants of the family . trembled bekre
here qi; e ne rst ( vvished to:hush the Ida
she 41Ftd' only to,eay, "Aunt is coming.”:--
TERMS' , OF T HIS PAPICIII - --riirilieman.
per annum—payable haifyearly itradvistee. VG'
subacriptiobs takeei for lose than ilimonthe,and
none discontinued until all arrearager ace paid 4
unless at the option of ther•Editor—anda, allure
to notify a discontinuance will bo considered a
new engagement, and tho paper fbrwarded as
TERMS -;-42 PER ANNUM.
VOL/ 1.--NO. 51:
The larger children, when at play, Tilley
heard her cough at a distance, slippedinto
some corner, and whispered to one another
"Aunt is coming."
From the Newt York Constellation
_UPSETTING OF A DANDY,
- There is meereature that take* to
self more airs than a city dandy—none that
pretends to more wit and wisdom, and none"
that betrays a greater want of them. One
of this class of bipeds, who had eseapedfrora
the city a few weeks last puipmer, to inhale,
the country atmosphere and astoniskthe na.
fives, betook himself to the Stage -coach as
the most economical way of . travelling.
Lest, however, his motivesshould be snspeo ,
ted i he invariably informed kis fellow travel
lers that he pi eferred this kind of convey ,
ance for the opportunities it afforded ofstud
dying huinan natured
. It so happened that dating our exquisitee'
travels, he was:thrown into company with a
Jack-tar:fresh from the forecastle, and bound
on a short trip to his native village to recruit !
and make repairs. Jack was seized upon
by our cockney-philosopher, as a rare sub
ject ofinvestigation—one from which might
be extracted the material for many a pre ,
cious soy on his return home. He aekor ,
dingly commenced his examination by im ,
pertinent questions,. to which Jack answered
with apparent good humor. Emboldened
by his success, our tudent next prodeeds to
quiz the honest old ar, and finding his joke*
not resented, lie plie em with increased
At the next stage, Jac as The fit* "to
alight, while our young philosopher, who by
this time began to suspect that his inquiries
into human nature might_not result-ensatis. - ; -- •
factorily ashe had expected, was the last to
leave the coach.. No sooner-hecHie
ed, than Jack made towards him—the den.
dy retreats--Jack follows him up, and seik
ing him by the collar, exclaimed,
"Now we'll square accounts, you land lubw
"Oh! Oh!--let go my coiryouserltn
cried the dandy, "what do you• want to do
with me ?"
lust to pay you for that soft soap pal
ave been giving me, you rascal !" says
Jack, giving him aleelurch, by which the
terrified dandy was thrown flat on hie tiacirt
into a mud-puddle.
Jack waproceeding to further extremid
ties, when the other passengers came up and
interfered for the relief of the fallen philoae
opher. The old sailer was easily prevailed
upon to desist, and our soiled dandy mum.
ed his seat in the coach, with little desire 117
renew his investigations into human natures
A CATEGORICAL ANSWER.
It may seem a matterofno extraorifinary
difficallty to give - a plain answer to a plaits
question; and yet it is an art which reqiiiree
some trouble to learn. In all half-Civilized
nations, the inquirer for the most simple
things, is met by an enigma for an answer; ,
and, among the peasantry of Scotland and
Ireland, civilized as the general
ties may be; the system often seems to be
studied evasion. This dialogue is the me. ,
del of thousands in the Hibernian isle: 7 ---"Is
this the nearest road to Cork?" "Is it to
Cork you are, going?" "Yes l buttny quer"—
lion is, as to the nearest road?" "Why, this
road is as near as that on the other side of
the hill; for neither of thein is eny_road_at -
all." "Then which way ought I. to go?"
"Oh, that depends on your honor's own
king. Perhaps you wouldn't like itrgo back
again?" "Certainly not. But, one word
for alit my good fellow; do you know any.
thing about any kind of a road here?"
"There now, if your honor had. asked that
before, I could have told you at once."- - - . -
"Out with it then." "Why the: truth is,
your- honor, that I i'irn a stranger in these
parts;, and the best thing you can do is to
stop till somebody comes that knows all a
bout the way." "Stupid scoundrel! why
did you not say BO at first?" "Stupid l that's'
all iny thanks. Ittit why did not your hone
or ask nie if I belonged to the place? that
would have settled the business. Take
fool's advice and stop where you are,"
A boy who had been lupught op in a log
house in Ohio, which, of course, was--net
much encumbered with usefiess •ftirnittre' -
we§ one day sent on an errand to a neigh ,
hois house_ where several articlet of more
fashionable furniture had just been received
from "the eastward," and among other
things a looking glass, which was suspended
opposite the door. The boy had takiter bet
fore seen his own face; and when i on entering
the hot?, the first object which presented it'
self was a dirty looking face surrounded by
long yellow shaggy hair, dm. he was so af ,
(righted that without ceremony he ran horno
as fast as his legs could carry him, egefaimt
ing, "D dy, daddy, i've seen old Nick'?
FAT S EP.--Sixteen sheep, red by
Mr. John Bradley, of Williston Township,.
Chester county, Pennsylvania, weighed air
follows :=lO5, 4084 125+1;• 104 2 1254,
. 39,,1604, 148 C 1 . 21,110, . 123, . 1
i:4li, 1,28,124—Taa1;19993 - lia.; average
weight 126 Ms..' These sheep *ere sold*
the rate 11/ 4 coats picrtpaund.,. The cm&
or 'obtained-05 0,6 i for the !tide and tallow
of each.---Phi/adelphia Nat. '" 1