It
The whole art ok Government consists in the art of being honest. Jefferson.
VOL 4.
STROUDSBURG, MONROE COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 11, 1844.
No. 51.
ippbvs.-Two dollars per annum in adrancc Two dollars
n,i i (iuartcr, half yearly and if not paid before the end of
inner? bv a carrier or stage driTers employed by tlie proprie
tors "ill be charged 7 1- cts. per year, extra.
So papers discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except
at the opuu" ",v- '""
,rTi.ii-erU5ementsiiotexccedinpronesquaro f sixteen lines)
wilibc inserted three weeks for one dollar: twenty-fire cents
for even subsequent insertion : larger ones in proportion. A
HyAll letters addressed to the Editors must be post paid.
JOB PRINTING.
IlaTin" sencral assortment of large elegant plain and orna
"mental Type, we are prepared to execute crery
description of
Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Hfolcs,
Rlank. Receipts,
JUSTICES, LEGAL AND OTHER
BLANKS,
PAMPHLETS, &c.
ttintod with neatness and despatch, on rcasonablo thrifts
AT THE OFFICE OF THE
Jcffcrsonian Republican.
From the Pittsburg American.
The Club Room.
Tone Rosin the Bow.
Come blow up the bugle for Harry,
And rouse all your men for old Joe,
There's no two such lads who can carry
Dismay to the Locofoco.
Come all the boys of the mountains ;
Come hamlet and city and town,
Pour out from your creeks and your fountains,
Your glens and your valleys all round.
Come farmers and joiners and bakers,
Come merchant and lawyer and clerk,
Come tailors and all ye shoemakers,
Come up every one to the work.
Come colliers, and teamsters, and draymen,
Throw by all your shovels and whips,
Let's have at this time no delay men,
Tf vnu want mnrft fnr vracrps: thnn fin!
j s
Yc workers in Iron and leather,
Ye men of the hammer and loom,
Regardless of all sorts of weather,
Push on to the crowded Club room.
Come men of all trade and professions,
Who wish that tho country should thrive,.
When you know that the Club is in session,
Crowd into it like a bee hive.
Then blow up the bugle for Harry,
And rouse all your men for old Joe,
There's no two such lads who can carry
Dismay to tho Locofoco.
The Faults of Man by a Lady.
A thousand faults in man we find
Merit in him we seldom meet :
Man 's inconstant and unkind,
Man is false and indiscreet ;
Man is capricious, jealous, reo,
Vain, insincere, and trifling too,
Yet still the women all agree
For want of better he must do.
SHARP " I cannot imagine," said Alder
man A , " why my whiskers turn grey so
much sooner than my head."
"Because," observed a wag, you work so
much more with your jaws iban your brains.''
A BLUNT EPITAPH. In Luton church
yard, Bedfordshire, an uncourtly voice from the
dead to the living speaks as follows:
Reader I have left a world
In which I had much to do,
Sweating and fretting to get rich:
Just such a fool as you.
Eggs are called ia the west, by axtremely
modest people, " hen fruit."
" My '.ipncted bredren," said a venerable
looking preacher of Ethiopian race, "blessed
am dey dat 'pects nuttin, for dey aim guine to
he disappointed."
A NEW GUN. It is stated that Captain
Stockton is about to replace the. unfortunate
"big gun" with one to be cast in Philadelphia,
of Pennsylrania Iron.
A RICH PRIZE. An old building about to
be pulled down, in the Bowery, New York, was
tld, a day or two since, to two Irishmen, for
thirty dollars, on condition they would remove
it. They went to work at it, and in tearing
open some of the wainscoating found a jug,
which on examination proved to be a money
jug ; containing, it is said, $9,000 in old coin.
This is the old building where the Avenue bpys
used to Mop and discuss the merits of their fast
trotters.
CANDLES. Take 2 lbs. of alum for every
10 lbs. of tallow, dissolve it in water before the
'allow is put in, and then melt the tallow in the
alltim water with frequent stirring, and it will
larify and harden the tallow no as to make a
most beautiful article for either winter or sum
mer use, almost as goud as sperm.
From Graham's Magazine
VIRGINIA,
The tittle Matcn-Girl of Kentucky.
BY FRANCES S. OSGOOD.
"Six for a fip! Six for a lip! Matches
matches !" The voice was clear and glad as a
im s, anu ruisseu ttarily turned to see from
whence it proceeded; a little bare-footed girl,
about ten years old, with tho sunniest sweetest
face he had ever seen, was tripping just behind,
and as he turned, she held up her matches with
such a winning, pleading, heavenly smile in
her blue eyes, that he bought nearly all sho
had at once.
Her fair hair fell in soft light waves, rather
than curls, nearly to her waist, and a hole in
her little straw hat let in a sunbeam upon it
that turned it half to gold.
In spite of the child's coarse and tattered ap
parel, in spite of her lowly occupation, her
manner, her stop, her expression, the very
tones of her voice unconsciously betrayed a na
tive delicacy and refinement, which deeply in
terested the high-bred youth whom she ad
dressed. Impelled by an irresistible impulse,
he lingered by her side as she proceeded.
" What is your name my child ?" he asked.
" Virginia, sir. What is yours?"
" Hartley Russell Hartley," he replied,
smiling at her artless and native simplicity;
and where is your home ?"
" Oh ! I have no home, at least not much
of a one. I sleep in the barns about here,"
and again she looked up in his face, with her
happy and touching sinilo.
"And your mother?"
In an instant the soft brow was shadowed,
and the uplifted eyes glistened with tears.
" I will tell you all about it, if you will come
close to me. 1 don't like to talk loud about it,"
she replied, in low and faltering tones.
Russell Hartley took her little sunburnt hand
in his, and bent his head in earnest attention.
" We had been in the great ship over bo ma
ny days, mother, and father, and I, and all the
other people, and one night we were in tho
room they called the Ladies' cabin, and mo
ther had just undressed me, and I was sitting
on her knee singing the little hymn she taught
me, and she had her arm around my neck
mother loved me oh! so dearly and sho was
so sweet and good ! nobody will evor bo so
good to me again !" and hero the little creature
tried to repress a 6ob and wiped her eyes with
her torn apron. " Weil, and so I was just
singing my pretty hymn,
1 know no fear, when danger's near,
I'm safe on sea or land,
For I've, in heaven, a Father-dear,
And He will hold my hand;
All at once, there was a dreadful, confused
sound, a rumbling, crashing, shrieking noiso
a terrible pain, and then I woke up, and there
I was on a bed in a strange room, and some
people, standing by the fire, talking about a
steamboat that had burst her boiler the day bo
fore, and 1 found that I had been washed on
shore, and that Mr. Smith had found me, and
taken me home to his wife, and he put me in
a warm bed and tried to rouse me ; but she
couldn't till I woke up myself the next day.
And when I cried for my own sweet mother,
they looked sad, and said she was drowned,
and I should never see her again ! And then
I wanted to be drowned too, but thev said that
was wicked, and I was sorry 1 had said so, for
I would not be wicked for tho world ! Mother
always loved to havo me good ; and so I tried
to be happy as they told me I must ; but I
couldn't not for a great while 1 used to pine
so at night for her dear arms around mo? At
last, I found a little comfort in doing just as I
knew she would like to have ran, and in know
ing sho could see me still, and jn talking to
her; and I used losing my little hymn to her
up in heaven, just as 1 did when I sat on her
knee, and I sing it now every night. Mr.
Smith and his wife both died and left me all
alone again ; but I am hardly ever sad now for
1 am almost always good, and you know good
people mukt not be unhappy," and the beauti
ful, loving smile shone again through her lin
gering tears, as hho finished her simple story.
Russell was touched to the heart. His own
eyes 'were moist, and bending down, he kissed
the innocent cheek of the little otphan, and
bade her go with him, and he would give her
money to clothe and feed herself.
But the child drew gently, yet somewhat
proudly back, and said earnestly, "Oh! I never
take money as a gift; mother would not like it."
Then, kissing lunderly the gpirtlo hand, that
still held hers, she tripped lightly round a cor
ner, and, a moment after, Hartley heard her
soft, silvery, childish treble, far in the distance,
singing, "Matches, matches! Six for a ftp!
Who'll buy my matches! matches, ho!"
Russell Hartley kept that sweet picture in
his soul undtmmed, through years of travel and
change and care. H visited, with enthusi
asm, the noble galleries of painting and sculp
ture in England, France, and Italy, and many
a gem of art was enshrined in the mosaic tab
lets of memory, but there was none to rival the
vein of nature the matchless little match-girl
of Kentucky ! with her fair hair streaming on
her,scanty,:rciL cloak, the glad and innocent
smile in her childish eyes, and the lovely sun
beam stealing through the hole in tho old straw
hat to light as with a message from Heaven,
tho lovely head of the orphan girl. The beau
tiful ray of light ! made more beautiful by its
chosen resting place, giving and roceiving
grace ! it seemed a symbol of the Father's love
for the poor little moiherleas wanderer. It was
only the hole in the hat that let in the sunshine
it was her poverty and her lonely, lowly state,
that made her especially the child of His di
vine pity and tonderness ; and they like the
sunbeam, changed to gold her daily care, and
smiled through every cloud that crosssed her
little heart.
Seven years flew by on butterfly wings to
joy and thoughtlessness, on leaden ones to sor
row and " hopo deferred" and our little Vir
ginia, now a lovely girl of seventeen, had earn
ed money enough by her bewitching way of
offering matches for sale, to introduce herself
as a pupil in one of tho first boarding schools
of the country, not to commence but to finish
her education ; for, with a passionate love of
books, she had found means to cultivato her
tastes and talents in many ways.
Tho lovely and lonely little orphan had strug
gled with hunger and cold and fatigue, with
temptation in its most alluring and beguiling
forms, with evil in a thousand shapes, yet had
she kept the heavenly sunshine of her soul
pure and unclouded through it all. She had
never taken money as a gift or as a bribe.
She had assisted, from her little store, many a
child of misfortune, still humbler and poorer
than herself; and with faith, truth, and purity
an angel around her by the light of her own
innocent smiles, sho glided, like a star, through
the gathering clouds unharmed, unstained, un
shadowed. In the words of our beautilul poet
" Peace charmed the street, beneath her feet,
And honor charmed the air ;"
and music tho music of her own sweet heart
and siver voice went always with her through
the world.
It was on tho evening preceding that on
which tho annual ball or the school took place.
The young ladies were discussing, round the
school-room fire, the dresses they were to wear.
Virginia, a, little apart, listened to them, and
half wished sho had a fairy god-mother, like
Cinderella's to deck her for the festival.
" Pearls, diamonds, japonicas ! Satins, laces,
velvets ! She, alas ! had none of these ! She
had only the plain white dress in which she
had been crowned Queen of May the spring
preceding. It was so very plain, not even a bit
of trimming "round the throat."
"And what are you to wear, Miss Lindon?"
said one of the arisiocrats of the school, turning,
with what slu; fancied an imperial air, toward
the young stranger.
Virginia blushed, and said, simply, "My white
muslin."
"And what ornaments ?"
Virginia smiled. "Oh, I can find some bright
autumn leaves for a wreath.
Imogen Grey would have given her diamond
necklace for such a blush and smile; for her
own sallow cheek was never so illuminated; but
she sneered nevertheless at the white muslin
and the garland leaves, and designed no further
question.
Virginia's dlicate and sensitive spirit felt tho
sneer intensely, and she left tho room with a
swelling heart and tearful eyes. Once safe,
however, in tho asylum of her own little cham
ber, peace descended again like a dove into her
soul, and after undressing, she knell in her
night-robe, by the side of her bed, and said her
prayer, and sung her little childish hymn .
Of old th' Apostle walked tho wave,
As seamen walk the land,
A power was near him strong to save,
For Jesus held his hand!
Why should I fear, when danger's near?
I'm safe on sea or land ;
For I've in heaven a Father dear,
And He will hold my hand.
Though on a dizzy height, perchance, '
. With faltering feet I stand,
No dread shall dim my upward glance,
For God will hold my hand.
But oh! if doubt should cloud tho day,
And sin beside me stand,
Then firmest, lest I lose my way,
My Father! hold my hand!
Doubt, and danger, and sin, wore nearer than
sho thought, but her little hand was held by
One who' would not let her fall. As she rose
from her devotions, she saw, for the first time,
a box on a table by the bed. It was addressed
on the cover simply to "Virginia." She opened
it, wondering,-and found a set of exquisito pearl
ornaments, for the arms, neck and head. Her
little heart beat with girlish delight. Sho hur
ried to the glass and wound around her hair a
chain of snow-gems, less fair and pure than the
innocent brow beneath. Next sho bared her
graceful arm, and clasped a bracelet thero.
How exquisitely the delicate ornaments became
her childish loveliness ! Sho thought she had
never looked so pretty not even when she
used-to deck her hair with flowers, by the clear
pool in the woods. And she could wear them
to the ball! But who could have sent them?
Again she looked at the box, and this lime she
saw a note peeping beneath the cotton wool on
which the gems had rested. Virginia's fair
cheek flushed as she read
"Let Innocence and Beauty wear the gift of
Love. Howard Grey.
Had the bracelet been a serpent, with its
deadly sting in her arm, Virginia could scarce
ly havo unclasped it with more haste. I he
chain too was snatched from her head, and both,
with the note, replaced in the box ; and then
the fair child threw herself again on her knees
buried her face in her hands. After a silence
of some minutes, broken only by faint sobs, she
sung once more, in low and tremulous tones,
tho hymn, which seemed to her a talisman for
all evil, and then calmly laying her head on the
pillow, and murmuring the name which was
music to her soul, sunk into the soft and deep
slumber of innocence and youth.
For nearly a year had the young libertine,
Howard Grey, p'ursued her with his unhallowed
passion, aided as he vainly imagined by his
costly and tasteful gift; but thero seemed a ma
gic halo around the young Virginia, through
which no shadow of evil could penetrate. Be
sides the native purity and delicacy of hor
mind, there were two other influences at work
in the beautiful web of her destiny, to prevent
any coarse or dark thread from mingling in its
tissue; one was her spiritual communion with
her mothor, and the other, her affectionate re
membrance of Russell Hartley the only being
in whose eyes she had ever read the sympathy
for which her lonely and lovely heart yearned
always.
It was evening again. The young ladies
had assembled, dressed for tho ball, in the dining-room
all but Virginia. ' Where is the
sweet child ?' asked an invalid teacher, to whom
she had endeared herself by her graceful and
affectionate attentions.
"She was so long helping me and sister
dress," said a little shy-looking girl,'that she
has been belated."
"I will go and assist her myself," said tho
principal of the school, pleased with this proof
of kmdhcartodness on the part ol her new pu-
She softly openod the door of irginia'a room,
and almost started at tho charming picture
which met her eye. Robed in white, with her
singularly beautiful hair falling in fair, soft curls
around her face, which was lighted up by a
smile of almost rapturous hope and joy, the
young girl stood in an attitude of enchanting
grace, raising in both hands to adjust, amid the
brails behind, a half wreath of glowing and
richly tinted autumn leaves.
"Lot me arrange it for you, my child," said
the lady approaching, and Virginia bent her
fair head modestly to her bidding, and then,
hand in hand, they descended to the drawing
room. Many of the company had arrived the
doors leading to the ball-room had been thrown
open, and Virginia was almost dazzled by the
splendour of the scone into which she was
thus suddenly ushered. She blushed beneath
the eyes that were riveted upon her as eke
passed.
"An angel!" "A grace!" "A muse!" whisper
ed tho gentlemen to each other. There was
one among them a noble, chivalric-looking
man who did not speak his admiration! An
indefinable something in the heavenly beauty
of that face that had touched, in his soul, a
chord which had not vibraAed for many years
before. Virginia knew him at once. The rich
chesnut curia of tho boy of twenty had now as
sumed a darker tinge, tho eyes a somewhat
softer firo, and tho youthful and flexile grace
had given place to a manly dignity of mien ; but
there was ao mistaking the soul in the glance
of Russell Hartley.
And Virginia was decidedly the belle of tho
ball. Gay, but gracelully so, for her sportive
mood was softened and restrained by a charm
ing timidity that enhanced her loveliness ten
fold, she looked and moved like one inspired.
She had met Hartley's admiring gaze ; she was
almost sure he would ask an introduction, and
she felt as if her foot and heart wero suddenly
gifted with wings. Sho floated down the dance
like a peri through the air, and then Russell
approached, and he was introduced.
Tho sunny smilo of the little match-girl shone
in her eyes, as sho accepted his arm fora prom
enade. " Surely I have seen that look some
where before!" ho exclaimed, half aloud.
" Matches ! matches ! Six for a fip !' murmured
Virginia, looking archly up in his face, and the
mystery was at once explained.
Imogen Grey's diamond necklace was worth
less dross in comDarison with the wreath of
autumn leavos, which Hartley laid beneath his
pillow that night, and all her brother's costly
offerings could not have purchased the smile
which accompanied the gift.
Reader, if you ever go to Kentucky, come to
me for a letter of introduction to Mrs. Russell
Hartley. She is looked up to, respectod and
beloved by all the country round, and 1 am sure
von will enjoy her graceful and cordial atten
tion, and the luxuries of her elegant home, all
the more for remembering that tho distinguish
ed and dignified woman to whom you are mil
king your very best bow, was once the little
match-girl of my story.
Important Improvement in tSic
Manufacture of Iron.
A dicovery, says tho Tribune, has lately
been made by Mr. Simeon Broadme.ulow, of
N. York, in the manufacture of iron, by means
of which the iron ore ia by only one process
converted into wroghut iron, without being lir?i
made into pig iron, and at a less expense Man.
tho pig can be made. The iron ore is placed
upon ihe floor of a revorbatory formic', thw
flame of the fire passing over it; wlunt a chuiii
ical compound is used to unite the elements of
ihe iron by separating tho slag entirely from it.
By this first, only operation, the wroghut iron
comes oul as, perfect in every respect as that
by the double operation of puddling and piling
pig iron, aud, for the purpose of manufacturing
steel, even surpasses it. By this process,
wrought iron of the best quality can bp pro
duced at a cost not exceeding $25 50 pr ton.
To make the iron ore into balls of wrought
iron, will require no blast, nor machinery of
any kind, tho anthracite or bituminous coals
being used with equal advantage in a common
air furnace, a good draft being all that is want
ed. These balls of wrought iron can be made,
at a good profit (if the furnace is built near the
mines of mineral and coal) for fourteen dollars
per ton. The immense advantages of this plan-,
to the country at large cannot be computed,
in the single article of railroad iron, it will be
saving of millions of dollars to the United States;,
for, by statistical tables, we have already sent
to England for that article alone, the sum nf
thirty-two millions of dollars. We hope, there
fore, to seo many of our old rolling mills, ihat
are now lying idle throughout the country, in.
active operation; manufacturing this article: tlvau.
machinery which is capable of rolling out boil
er plate iron being sufficiently strong and effi
cient for all tho purposes of railroad. The in
ventor informs us that, with a capital of ono
hundred thousand dollars, forty tons of rail road
iron can bo manufactured every 24 hours.
To cleanse Feather Beds and Jlat
tregses. When feather beds become soiled or heavy,
they may be made clean and light by being
treated in the following manner: Rub ihetn
over with a stiff brush, dipped in hot soap suds.
When clean, lay them on a shed, or any other
place, where the rain will fall on them. When
thoroughly soaked, let them dry in a hot sun
for six or seven successive weeks, shaking
thorn tip well, and turning them over each day.
They should, he covered over with a thick cloth
during the night: if exposed to the night air,
they will become damp and mildew. ,This
way of washing the bed ticking and feathers,
makes them very fresh and light, and is much
easier than the old-fashioned way of emptying
the beds and washing the feathers separately,
while it answers quite as well. Caro must be
taken to dry the bed perfectly, before sleeping
on it. Hair mattresses that have become hard
and dirty, can be made nearly as geod as new
by ripping them, washing the ticking, and pick
ing the hair free from bunches, and keeping it
in a dry, airy place, several days. Whenever
the ticking gels dry, fill it lightly with the hair,
and tack it together.
Sewing on Glazed Calico.
By passing a cake of white Boap a few times
orer a piece of glazed calico, or any othor stif
fened material, the needle will penetrate with
equal facility as it will through any kind of
work. The patronesses of the School of In
dustry pronounce this to be a fact worth know
ing, the destruction ef needles in the ordinary
way occasioning both loss of time and expense.
Taunton Courier.
TEA-KETTLES. Keep an oyster-shell in
your tea-kettle, and it will prevent the forma
tion of a crust on the insido of it, br attracting
tho stony particles to itself.
Tltc JDutcli Warrior.
When Gen. Marklo was tindor Gen. Harri
son, he got the name of "the Dutch Warrior,"
from tho circumstance that when he used i
encounter the Indians, he used to address hi
men in Dutch, his vernacular tongue. When
he is inaugurated Goernor, ho will no dou?n
address the Kickapoo3 in Dutch, as ho drin-.
them from the Treasury and takes the comn t
of the affairs of the State. The people want
a general skilled in Indian warfare, to wn s
the State from the hanis of tho Indians who
have applied the scalping-knife and tomahawk
to her honor, to her credit and hor prosperi'v,
and the Commonwealth does not present an
other man so compotent as the old "Dutih
Warrior." Huzza for the Kickapoo-killer !
Har. Telegraph.
The only kind office performed for us by our
frionds of which we never complain, is our fu
neral ; and tho only thing which we are sure iu
want, happens to bo the only thing which w
never purchase our coffin. .