SdBMt'UIPTION HATEN: Per year, in advance SI 50 Otherwise Ko Hulwcri'ition will be diacontinned nntil *l. arrearage* art paid. Postmasters aaglaettng to iiotifv us when unbscriber* Uo not take out their vipers will be held liable Tor the saT»«.;ri,'tioii. SnlMuribera removing from one poatofließ to anoiher ehonld give ns Me anno of the former &, well a* the present office. All commuuic-'iona intends! for publication in tllia paper oi U n l be McompsQiod by the real name of the writer, not for publication, but a» a ~;.aiantee of cood fuitli. Mirriagfi and death notices must be accompa nied by a responsible name. Ac" 1 -ii' THE BUTt . fiR CITIZKW, BCTLER. PA. I LAN L) FOR SALE. Valuable Farm for iSale. The undersigned offers at private «alo thn farm lately owned by Robert Oilleland. dee'd, lato of Midilienex township, containing 162 A crew, more or lens, with a two-**lory brick botiM and bank b-irn, lav hon.-e wagoa shed and other c Mocildinge. "Two fiood orchards thereon. 13J acres clened. balance in timber, 3a-.\ of sovrs. lv about oue-liaif mile from Butler and Pittsburgh plank road and ijf miles irom new narrow-gnnKe railroad, is v eil improved and in pood condition, and is well adapted for dairy I 'ir|>os«s. For terrnw applyto JAMES WIT-SON', Agent, decl'lf] Bakerstown, Allegheny Co., Pa. Valuable Town Piopcrty FOR NAM'. The undert wishes to seli the following tfeeciibed property in tiio borough of Bntler, Butler comity; Pa.: TWO LOIS. 20 feet front each, and running back 1" feet, located on Main street, adjoining the Iljclen-teiuproperty.* SIX LOTS fronting on Cunningham street, SO feet each in front aud pinning back 120 leet. I will also sell the RPIOK and Fit AM K build ing* erected ou part of the same property from which the alsive lots are taken, together with the grennd on which they stand. AIso—FIVE ACHES within the borough of Duller, uu tie old Metccr road, originally owned by Jatno- M. Bredin. Esq AIso—FORTY ACHES of coal land in Wash ington township, originally owned by Patrick O'Connor, and near to the Sheuwigo Railroad depot. K '"For terms applt to the undersigned, living in Butler. " PATRICK KELLY. <!ec3-4t Administrator's Sale. By virtue ol an order and decree of the Or v,harts' Court of Etitler county, to me directed, J wi ! offer for sale at pablis outcry on the prem ie-, in Winfleid township. Bntler county, ou Friday, Dec. 26th, 1879. the farm 'ately o.rnf l by John Post, dee'd, con tj-iiiinj; ono hundred and six «ure*. more or lets, bounded north by August Acre et a!., east by (jaibreitli. south by Tiiouoas Bickt»tt et al. and j nest by Casper Freeliug: mostly cleared and linger cultivation; dwelling house, barn and other outbuildings thereon. TERMS—One-third in hand ou confirmation of and the remainder in two equal annual instalments, with lawful interest, to be secured bv bond and mortgage. CVSPEII FREELIN'G. doc3-4t Administrator. For teale. The well-improved farm of Rev. W. R. Hutch- ' ißon.ln rUr> northeast corner of Middlesex town ship, Butler eouiilv. Pa.. is now offered for sale j 10 .v. Inquire of W. K. FItISBEE, on the prem iPßP. aplfitf »000 ACRES LAND Situated in and nc.ir the UPPER ARKANSAS VALLEY, IN SOUTH WESTERN KANSAS, ( —OS THE- • Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe R. R. 11 Years' Credit. 7 per «nt. Interest Tie first payment at d te of purchase Is otic- I tenth of thc-f rincip.il and seven percent, inter- e c t on the rciuait.der. At the end of ;he first and second yifir, only the iotercel at feven per cent, is paid"; and the iliiid yetr, and each year j thereafter, one tenth or t'.o piinripal, with •even per cent, li:'.crest on the ba'acer, is paid annually until th" whole is p..id. Six years' credit, -0 per cent, discount. Two years" credit. per e« ut. discount. Ca«b purchase. 33 1-8 per cent, discount 1 The valley of the Upper Arkan<ax is jti>tlv 1 celebrated for its adaptability to WHEAT < RAISING and the. ftiperlor qu.uitv ol it> u'rain A* a STOCK-RAISING uwl WOOL-GROWING country, it oiler? advantages that cannot bv ex cel led." Good soil, iibutidancu of pure water, a . mild and retnarkabiy healthy climate, with low prices and easy terms, make tip a total of in ducements greater than is offered anywhere else on the continent of America. Fir lull particulars, luqulre of or addres6 C. A. SEYMOUR, General Eastern Passenger Asrrnf. my'M-ly] 41!t Broadway. N. Y. lt>o Main St . Buffalo, N. Y. " PHYSIOTANS ~~ JOIIX F. BYERS, PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, | myai-ly] BUTLER, PA. J FINANCIAL. Alrt l Ajnnn 1 Invented 111 Wall St. stocks j IM JlO U UuU] makcs fortt,,,es cvei 7 VIU IU V'WUU j month Riok gent free ex pl&inintf everything. Address ' BAXTER & CO., Bunkers. C et9 7 Wall street N. Y. EDUCATIONAL. Exclusively devoted to the practical educa tion of young and miildic-aged men, for active business life. School always in session. Stu dents can enter at any time. jZsEMScad for circular. J. C. SMITH, A. M., Principal, sept24-3m Pittsbilrgli, Pa. i)EI\'TIS'i S. ot§ WALORON. Gn dQate of Uie Phil- HL adelphia Dental College, i» prepared • i* •to do anything in the line of hi* profe.s-lon In a ?atl j f:«ctory manner. Ollice on Main street, Butler, Union blork, m> stdrs. a:>ll BANKS. THK Bl M LGII SAVINGS BANK ncT L E it. r A.. NEARLY OPPOSITE LOWRY HOUSE CAPITAL STOCK 60,000. Wsi. Cahpbeix. J.VS. D. ASDCTSOK, President. "Vice President. Vtv. C.VJCFEETJI., Jr., Caefiior. imiKCTORS William Campbell, J. W. Irwin, .tas. I). Anderson, George Weber, Joseph L. Purvis. Poes a General Banking k Exchanpe business. Interest piid on time deposits. Collections made and prompt returns at low rates of Exchange. Gold Exchange and Government Bonds bought and sold. Commercial paper, bonds, judgment and othersecnrities bought at fair rates ia2o:ly INSURANChJ. Mutual Fire Insurance Co. Office Cor. Main and Cunn'mgham Sts. O. C. ROESSING, PRESIDENT. WM CAMPBELL, TREASCKER. 11. C. IIEINEMA.N, SKCRETABT. DIRECTORS: J.L.Purvis, E. A. Helmboldf, William Campbell, J. VV. Burkhart, A. Troutman, j Jacob Schoeue, G. C. Ruesxinif, John Caldwell, Dr. W. Irvln, Samuel Marshall, J. W.Chrlstv j H. C. Heineman. JAS. T, M'JUNKIN, Gen, J9XJTIJB]Ry V 7 OL. xvi r. A CHAPTER FROM DICKENS. How and Where the Pickwick Club of London Spent Their Christmas. As brisk as bees, if not altogether as light as fairies, did the four Pick wickians assemble on the morning of the 22nd day of December, in the year of grace in which these, their fa'th fullv recorded adventures, were under taken and accomplished. Christmas was close at hand, in all his bluff and hearty honesty: it was the season of hospitality, merriment, and open heartcdness; the old year was pre paring, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him. and amidst the sound of feasting- and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Gay and merry was the time, and gay and merry were fit least four of the nu merous hearts that were gladdened by its coming. And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief sea son of happiness and enjoyment. How many families, whose members have beCu dispersed antl scattered far and wide in the restless struggles of life, are then reunited, aud meet once again in that happy state of companionship and mutual good will, which is a source of such pure and unalloyed delight, and one so incompatible with the cares and sorrows of the world, that the religious belief of the most civilized nations, and the rude tradi tions of the roughest savages, alike number it among the first joys of a future existence, provided for the blest and happy! llow many old recollec tions, and how many dormant sympa thies, does Christmas time awaken ! We write these words now, many milos distant from the spot at which, year after j*ear, we met on that day, a merry and joyous circle. Many of the hearts that throbbed so gaily then, have ceased to glow; the hands we grasped have grown cold ; the eves we sought have hid their lustre in the grave; and yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and trivial circumstance con nected with those happy meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recur rence of the season, as if the last as semblage had been but yesterday! Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth ; that can transport the sailor and the traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet home. Bnt we are so taken up and occu- 1 pied with the good qualities of this ( saint Christmas, that we are keeping j Mr. Pickwick and his friends waiting in the cold on the outside of the Mag- ! gh'ton coach, which they have just 1 attained, well wrapped op in gre:it coats, shawls and comforters. The ' portmanteaus and carpet-bags have been stowed away, and Mr. Weller and the guard are endeavoring to in sinuate into the for" boot a huge cod- 1 fish several sizes too large for it— which is snuirly packed up, in a lotog brown basket with a layer of straw over the top, and which has been left to the last, in order that he may re pose in safety on the half-dozen barrels of real native oysters, all the property of Mr. I'ickwick, which have been ar ranged in regular order at the bottom of the receptacle. The interest dis played in .Air. Pickwick's countenance is most intense, as Mr. Weller and the guard try io squeeze the codfish into the boot, first head first, and then tail first, and then top upward, and then bottom upward, and then sideways, and then longways, all of which arti fices the •implacable codfish sturdily resists, until the guard accidentally hits him in the very middle of the basket, whereupon he suddenly disap pears into the boot, and with him, the head and shoulders of the guard him self, who, not calculating upon so sudden a cessation of the unexpected shock, to the unsmotherable delight of ul! the porters and bystanders. Upon this, Mr. Pickwick smiles with great good humor, and drawing a shilling from his waistcoat pocket, begs the guard, as he picks himself out of the boot, to drink his health in a glass of hot brandy and water ; at which the guard smiles too, and Messrs. Snod ,'jrass, Winkle and Ttipman, all smile in company. The guard and Mr. Weller disappear for five minutes, most probably to get the hot brandy and water, for they smell very strongly of it when they return, the coachman mounts to the box, Mr. Weller jumps up behind, the Pickwickians pull their coats round their legs and their shawls over their noses, the helpers pull the horse-cloths off, the coachman shouts a j cheery "All right," and away they go. They have rumbled through the streets, and jolted over the stones, and at length reach the wide and open country. The wheels skim over the hard and frosty ground ; and the horses, bursting into a canter, at a smart crack of the whip, step along the road as if i the load behind them, coach, passen gers, codfish, oyster barrels, and all, were but a feather at their heels. They have descended a genlle slope, and en ter upon a level, as compact and dry as a solid block of marble, two miles long. Another crack of the whip and on they speed at a smart gallop; the horses tossing their heads and rattling the harness, as if in exhiliration at the rapidity of the motion, while the coachman, holding whip and reins in one hand, takes off his hat with the other, and resting it on his knees, pulls out his handkerchief and wipes his forehead, partly because he has a habit of doing it, and partly because its as well to slow the passengers how cool he is, and what an easy thing it is to drive four-in-hand, when you have had as much practice us he has. Having done this very leisurely (otherwise the effect would be materially impaired), he replaces his handkerchief, pulls on his.hat, adjusts his gloves, squares his elbows, cracks the whip again, and on they speed, more mefrily than before. A few small houses, scattered on either side of the road, betoken the entrance to some town or village. , The lively notes of the guard's key bugle vibrate in the rteor crffol air. anil wake up the old gentleman inside, who, carefully letting down the window sash half way, and standing sentry over the air, takes a short peep out, and then carefully pulling it up again, in forms the other inside that they're going to change directly; on which the other inside wakes himself up, and determines to postpone his next nap until after the stoppage. Again the bugle sounds lustily forth, and rouses the cottager's wife and children, who peep out at the house door and watch the coach till it turns the corner, when they once more crouch round the fire, and throw on another log of wood against father comes home; while father himself, a full mile off, has just exchanged a friendly nod with the I coachman, and turned round to take a good long stare at the vehicle as it whirls away. And now the bugle plays a lively air as the coach rattles through the ill paved street of a country town, and the coachman, undoing the buckle which keeps his ribands together, pre pares to throw them off the moment he stops. Mr. Pickwick emerges from his coat collar, and looks about him with great curiosity ; perceiving which, the coachman informs Mr. Pickwick of the name of the town, and tells him it was market-day yesterday, bofh of which pieces of information Mr. Pick wick retails to his fellow-passengers, whereupon they emerge from their coat collars too, ami look about them also. Mr. Winkle, who sits at the ex treme edge, with one leg dangling in the air, is nearly precipitated into the street as the coach twists round the sharp corner by the cheesemonger's shop, and turns into the market-place ; and before Mr. Snodgrass, who sits next to him, has recovered from his alarm, they pu'l up at the inn yard, where the fresh horses, with cloths on, are already waiting. The coachman throws down the reins and gets down himself, and the other outside passen gers drop down also, except those who have no great confidence in their abil ity to get up again, and they remain where they are, and stamp their feet against the coach to warm them— looking, with longing eyes and red noses, at the bright fire in the inn bar, and the sprigs of holly with red ber ries which ornament the window. But the guard has delivered at the corn dealer's shop the brown-paper packet he took out of the little pouch which hangs over his shoulder by a leathern strap; and has seen the horses carefully put to; and has thrown on the pavement the saddle which was brought from London on the coach-roof; and has assisted in the couference between the coachman and the hostler about the grey mare that hurt her off fore-leg last Tuesday; and he and Mr. Weller are all right behind, and the coachman is all right in front, and the old gentleman inside, who has kept the window down full two inches all this time, has pulled it up again, and the cloths are off, and they are all ready for starting, except the "two stout gentlemen," whom the coachman inquires after witli some im patience. Hereupon the coachman, and the guard, and Sam Weller, and Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, and all the hostlers, and every one of the idlers, who are more in number than all the others put together, shout for the miss ing gentlemen as loud as they can bawl. A distant response is heard from the yard, antl Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman come running down it quite out of breath, for they have been hav ing a glass of ale apiece, and Mr. Pick wick's fingers are so cold that he has been full five minutes before he could find the sixpence to pay for it. The coachman shouts an admonitory "Now then, gen'l'm'n!" the guard re-echoes it; the old gentleman inside thinks it a very extraordinary thing that people will get down when they know there isn't time for it; Mr.' Pickwick strug gles up on one side, Mr. Tupman on the other; Mr. Winkle cries "All right!" and off they start. Shawls are pulled up, coat collars are readjusted, the pavement ceases, the houses disap pear, and they are once again dashing along the open road, with the fresh clear air blowing in their faces, and gladdening their very hearts within them. Such was the progress of Mr. Pick wick and his friends by the Muggleton Telegraph, on their way to Dingley Dell; and at three o'clock that after noon they all stood, high and dry, safe and sound, hale and hearty, upon the steps of the Blue Lion, having taken on the road quite enough of' ale and brandy to enable them to bid defiance to the frost that was binding up the earth in its iron fetters, and weaving its Ijeautiful network upon the trees and hedges. Mr. Pickwick was busily engaged in counting the barrels of oysters and superintending the disin terment of the codfish, when he felt himself gently pulled by the skirts of the coat. Looking round, he discovered that the individual who resorted to this mode of catching his attention was no other than Mr. Wardle's favorite page, better known to the readers of this unvarnished history, by the dis tinguished appellation of the fat boy. "Ahi!" said Mr. Pickwick. "Aha !" said the fat bov. As he said it, he glanced from the codfish to the oyster barrels, uud chuck led joyously. He was fatter than ever. "Well, you look rosy enough, my young friend," said Mr. Pickwick. "I've been asleep, right in front of the tap-room fire," replied the fat boy, who had heated himself to the color of a new chimney pot, in the course of an hour's nap. "Master sent me over with the shay-cart, to carry j'our luggage up to the house. He'd ha' sent some saddle-horses, but he thought you'd rather walk, being a cold day." "Yes, yes," said Mr. Pickwick hastily, for he remembered how they had travelled over nearly the same ground on a previous occasion. "Yes, we would rather walk. Here, Sam!" "Sir," said Mr. Weller. "Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages into tbo cart, and then ride on with him. We will walk for ward at once." Having given this direction, and settled with the coachman, Mr. Pick wick and his three friends struck into footpath across the fHds, and BUTLER, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1579. walked brisk!} - away, leaving Mr Weller antl the fat boy confronted to g-ether for the first time. Sam looked at the fai boy with great astonishment, but without saying a word ; ami began to stow the luggage rapidly away in the cart, while the fat boy stood quietly by, and seemed fo think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. W'-ller working by himself. "There,'' said Sam, throwing in the last earpet-bag, "There they are!*' "Yes," said the fat boy, in a very satisfied tone, 'There they are !" "Veil, young twenty stun," said Sam, "you're a nice specimen of a prize boy, you are!" Thank'ee," said the fat bov. "You ain't got nothin'on your mind as makes you fret yourself, have you?" inquired Sam. "Not as I knows on," replied the fat boy. "1 should rayther ha' thought, to look at you, that you was laborin' under an unrequited attachment to some young 'ooman," said Sam. "Veil," said Sam, "I'm glad to hear it. I)o vou ever drink anvthin'?" "I likes eating better," replied the boy. "Ah," said Sam, "I should ha' sposed that; but what I mean is, should you like a drop of inythin' as 'd warm you ? but I s'pose you never was cold, with all them elastic fixtures, was you ?" "Sometimes," replied the boy ; "and I likes a drop of something, when it's good." "Oh, you do, do yon ?" said Sam ; "come this way, then!" The Blue Lion tap was soon gained, and the fat boy swallowed a glass of liquor without so much as winking; a feat which considerably advanced him in Mr. Weller's good opinion. Mr. Weller having transacted a similar piece of business on his own account, they got into the cart. "Can you drive ?" said the fat boy. "I should rayther think so," replied Sam. "There, then," said the fat boy, put tin? the reins in his hand, and pointing up a lane, "it's as straight as you can go ; you can't miss it." With those words the fat boy laid himself affectionately down by the side of the cod fish ; and placing an oyster barrel under his head for a pillow, fell asleep instantaneously. "Well," said Sam, "of all the cool boys ever I set my eyes on, this here young gen'l'm'n is the coolest. Come, wake up, young dropsy!" But as young dropsy evinced no symptoms of returning animation, Sam Weller sat himself down in front of the cart, and starting the old horse with a jerk of the rein, jogged.steadily on towards Manor Farm. Meanwhile, Mr. Pickwick and his friends having walked their blood into active circulation, proceeded cheerfully on. The paths were hard ; the grass was crisp and frosty ; the air had a fine, dry, bracing coldness; antl the rapid approach of the grey twilight (slate-colored is a better term in frosty weather) made them look forward with pleasant anticipation to the comforts which awaited them at their hospitable entertainer's. It was the sort of an afternoon that might induce a couple of elderly gentlemen, in a lonely field, to take off their great coats and play at leap-frog in pure lightness of heart antl gaiety ; and we firmly believe that hail Mr. Tupman at that moment prof fered "a back" Mr. Pickwick would have accepted his offer with the utmost avidity. However, Mr. Tupman did not vol unteer any such accommodation, and the friends walked,"on, conversing mer rily. As they turned into a lane they had to cross, the sound of many voices burst upon their ears ; and before they even had time to form a guess to whom they belonged, they walked into the very centre of the party who were expecting their arrival—a fact which was first notified to the Pickwickians, bv the loud "Hurrah," which burst from old Wardle's lips, when they ap peared in sight. First, there was Wardle himself, looking, if possible, more jolly than ever; then there were Bella and her faithful Trundle; and, lastly, there were Emily and some eight or ten I young ladies, who had all come down to the wedding, which was to take place next day, aud who were in as happy and important a state as young ladies usually are, on such momentous occasions; and they were, one and all, startling the fields antl lanes, far and wide, with their frolic and laughter. The ceremony of introduction, under such circumstances, was very soon per formed, or we should rather say that the introduction was soon over, with out anv ceremony at all. In two min utes thereafter, Mr. Pickwick was joking with the young ladies who wouldn't come over the stile while he looked—or who, having pretty feet and unexceptionable ankles, preferred stand ing ou the top rail for five minutes or so, declaring they were too frightened to move—with as much ease and absence of reserve or constraint, as if he had known them for life. Jt is worthy of remark, too, that Mr. Snodgrass offered Emily far more assistance than the absolute terrors of the stile (although it was full three feet high, and had only a couple of stepping-stones) would seem to require ; while one black-eyed young lady in a very nice little pair of boots with fur round the top, was ob served to scream very loudly, when Mr. Winkle offered to help her over. * All this was very snug and pleasant. And when the difficulties of the stile were at last surmounted, and they once more entered on the open field, old Wardle informed Mr. Pickwick how they had all been down in a body to inspect the furniture and fittings-up of the house, which the young couple were to tenant, after the Christmas holidays; at which communication Bella and Trundle both colored up, as red as the fat boy after the tap-room fire; and the young lady with the black eyes and the fur round the boots, ■ whispered something in Emily's ear, aud then glanced archly at Mr. Snod grass; to which Emily responded that ■ she was a foolish girl, but turned very i red, notwithstanding; and Mr. Snod -1 grass, wfro w«« as mtKleet'ag all gr<*at geniuses usually are. felt the crimson rising to the crown of his head, and devoutly wished in the inmost re cesses of his own heart that the y'.mg ladv aforesaid, with her black eyes, ami her archness, and her boots with the fur round the top. were ail com fortably deposited in the adjacent count v. But if they were social and happy outside the house, what was the warmth and cordiality of their recep tion when they reached the farm ! The very servant grinned with pleas ure at sight of Mr. Pickwick: and Emma bestowed a half-demure, half impudent. and all pretty look of recog nition, on Mr. Tupman, which was enough to make the statue of Bona parte in the passage, unfold his arms, and clasp her within them. The old lady was seated in custo mary state in the front parlor, but she was rather cross, and, by consequence, most particularly deaf. She never went out herself, and like a great many other old ladies of the same stamp, she was apt to consider it an act of domestic treason, if anybody else took the liberty of doing what she couldn't. So, bless her old soul, she sat as upright as she could, in her great chair, and looked as fierce as might lie—and that was benevolent after all. "Mother," said Wardle, "Mr. Pick wick. You recollect him ?" "Never mind," replied the old ladv with great dignity. "Don't trouble Pickwick about an old creetur like me. Nobody cares about me now, and it's very nat'ral they shouldn't." Here the old lady tossed her head and smoothed down her lavender-colored silk dress with trembling hands. "Come, come, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick. "I can't let you cut an old friend in this way. I have come down expressly to have a long talk, anu another rubber with you; and we'll show these boys and girls how to dance a minuet, before they're eight and-fortv hours older." The old lady was rapidly giving way, but she did not like to do it all at once; so she only said, "Ah! I can't hear him!" "Nonsense, mother." said Wardle. "Come, come, don't be cross, there's a good soul. Recollect Bella ; come, you must keep her spirits up, poor girl." The good old lady heard this, for her lips quivered as her son said it But ago has its little infirmities of temper, and she was not quite brought round yet. So, she smoothed down the lavender-colored dress again, and turning to Mr. Pickwick, said, "Ah, Mr. Pickwick, young people was very different when I was a girl." "No doubt of that, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, "and that's the reason why I would make much of the few that have any traces of the old stock," and saying this, Mr. Pickwick gently pulled Bella towards him, and bestow ing a kiss upon her forehead, bade her sit down on the little stool at her grandmother's feet. Whether the ex pression of her countenance, as it was raised towards the old lady's face, called up a thought of old times, or whether the old lady was touched by Mr. Pickwick's affectionate good na ture, or whatever was the cause, she was fairly melted ; so she threw her self on her granddaughter's neck, and all the little ill-humor evaporated in a gush of silent tears. A happy party they were, that night. Sedate and solemn were the score of rubbers in which Mr. Pick wick and the old lady played together; uproarious was the mirth of the round table. Long after the ladies had re tired. did the hot elder wine, well qualified with brandy and spice, go round, and round, and round again; and sound was the sleep and pleasant were the dreams that followed. It is a remarkable fact that those of Mr. Snodgrass bore constant reference to Emily Wardle; and that the principal figure in Mr. Winkle's visions was a young lady with black eyes, an arch smile, and a pair of remarkably nice boots with fur round the tops. Mr. Pickwick was awakened early in the morning, by a hum of voices and a pattering of feet, sufficient to rouse even the fat boy from his slum bers. He sat up in bed and listened. The female servants and female vis itors were running constantly to and fro; and there were such multitudi nous demands for hot water, such re peated outcries for needles and thread, and so many half-suppressed entrea ties of "Oh, do come and tic me, there's a dear!" that Mr. Pickwick in his innocence began to imagine that something dreadful must have occur red ; when he grew more awake, and remembered the wedding. The oc casion being an important one he dressed himself with peculiar care, and descended to the breakfast-room. There were all the female servants I in a bran new uniform of pink muslin gowns with white bows in their caps, running about the house in a state of excitement and agitation which it would be impossible to describe. The old ladv was dressed out in a brocaded gown which had not seen the light for twenty years, saving and excepting such truant rays'as had stolen through the chinks in the box in which it had been lain by, during the whole time. Mr. Trundle was in high feather and spirits, but a little nervous withal. The hearty old landlord was trying to look very cheerful and unconcerned, but failing signally in the attempt. All the girls were in tears and white muslin, except a select two or three who were being honored with a private view of the bride antl bridesmaid, up stairs. All the Pickwickians were in most blooming array; and there was a terrific roaring on the grass in front of the house, occasioned by all the men, boys anil hobbledhoys attached to the farm, each of whom had got a white bow in his button-hole, and all of whom were cheering with might and main; being incited thereto, and stimulated therein, by the precept and example of Mr. Samuel Weller, who had managed to become mighty pup ular already, and was as much at home as if he had been born on the land. A wedtligg ie 4 lim*9ed gubfcot to joke upon, but there really is no great joke in the matter after all—we speak merely of thf> ceremony, and beg it to bedistinctly understood that we in dulge in no hidden sarcasm upon a married life. Mixed up with the pleasure antl joy of the occasion are the many regrets at quitting home, the tears of parting between parent and child, the consciousness of leaving the dearest and kindest friends of the happiest portion of human life, to en counter its cares and troubles with others still untried and little known ; natural feelings which we would not render this chapter mournful by des cribing, and which we should be still more unwilling to be supposed to ridicule. Let us briefly say, then, that the ceremony was performed by the old clergyman, in the parish church of Pinglcy Pell, and that Mr. Pickwick's name is attached to the register, still preserved in the vestry thereof; that the young lady with the black eyes signed her name in a very unsteady and tremulous manner; that Emily's signature, as the other bridesmaid, is nearly illegible ; that it all went off in very admirable style ; that the young ladies generally thought it far less shocking than they had expected ; and that although the owner of the black eyes and the arch smile inform Mr. Winkle that she was sure she could never submit to anything so dreadful, we have the very best reasons for thinking she was mistaken. To all this we may add, that Mr. Pickwick was the first who saluted the bride, and that in so doing, he threw over her neck a rich gold watch and chain, j which no mortal eyes but the jewel ler's had ever beheld before. Then, j the old church bell rang as gaily as it could, and they all returned to break fast. " Vere does the mince pies go, young opium eater," said Mr. Weller to the fat boy, as he assisted in laying out such articles of consumption as had not been duly arranged on the previ ous night. The fat boy pointed to the destina tion of the pies. "Wery good," said Sam, "stick a bit of Christmas in 'em. T'other dish opposite. There; now we look com pact and comfortable, as the father said ven he cut his little boy's head off, to cure him o' squinting." As Mr Weller made the compari son, he fell back a step or two to give full effect to it, and surveyed the pre parations with the utmost satisfaction. "Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick, al most as soon as they were all seated, "a glass of wine, in honor of this happy occasion!" "I shall lie delighted, ray boy," said Wardle. "Joe—damn that bov, he's gone to sleep." "No, I ain't, sir," replied the fat boy, starting up front a remote corner, where, like the patron saint of fat boys—the immortal Horner—he had been devouring a Christmas pie; though not with the coolness and de liberation which characterized that young gentleman's proceedings. "Fill Mr. Pickwick's glass." "Yes, sir." The fat boy filled Mr. Pickwick's glass, and then retired behind his master's chair, from whence he watched the play of the knives aud forks, and the progress of the choice morsels from the dishes to the mouths of the company, with a kind of dark antl gloomy jov that was most im pressive. "God bless you, old fellow!" said Mr. Pickwick. "Same to you, ray boy," replied Wardle; and they pledged each other heartily. "Mrs. Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick, we old folks must have a glass of wine together, in honor of this joyful event. The old lady was in a state of great grandeur just then, for she was sitting at the top of the table in the brocaded gown, with her newly-married grand daughter on one side and Mr Pick wick on the other, to do the carving. Mr. Pickwick had not spoken in a very loud tone, but she understood him at once, and drank off a full glass of wine to his long life antl happiness; after which the worthy old soul launched forth into a minute and par ticular account of her own wedding, with a dissertation on the fashion of wearing high-heeled shoes, and some particulars concerning the life and adventures of the beautiful Lady Tol limglower, deceased ; at all of which the old lady herself laughed very hcartily indeed, and so did the young ladies too, for they were wondering among themselves what on earth grandma was talking about. When they laughed the old lady laughed ten times rfiore heartily, and said that these always had been considered capital stories; which caused them all to laugh again, and put the old lady into the very best of humors. Then, the cake was cut, and passed through the ring; the young ladies saved pieces to put under their pillows to dream of their future husbands on ; and a great deal of blushing and mer riment was thereby occasioned. "Mr. Miller," said Mr. Pickwick to his old acquaintance, the hard-headed gentleman, "a glass of wine ?" "With great satisfaction, Mr. Pick wick," replied the hard-headed geutle man, solemnly. "You'll take me in?" said the be nevolent old clergyman. "And me," interposed his wife. •'And me, and me," said a couple of poor relations at the bottom of the table, who had eaten and drank very heartily, and laughed at everything. Mr. Pickwick expressed bis heart felt delight at every additional sugges tion ; and his eyes beamed with hilar ity and cheerfulness. "Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Pickwick, suddenly rising. "Here, here! Hear, hear! Here, here!" cried Mr. Weller, in the ex citement of bis feelings. "Call in all the servants," cried old Wardle, interposing to prevent the public rebuke which Weller would otherwise most indubitably have re ceived from his master. "Give them a glass of wine each, to drink the toast in. Now, Pickwick " Amrdst the ajjeace of the wmp&ny, the whispering of the women servants, and the awkward embarrassment of the men. Mi - . Pickwick proceeded: "Ladies and gentlemen—no, I won't say ladies and gentlemen, I'll call yon my friends, my dear friends, if the ladies will allow me to take so great a liberty —" Here Mr Pickwick was interrupted by immeuse applause from the ladies, echoed by the gentlemen, during which the owner of the eyes was dis tinctly heard to state that she could kiss that dear Mr. Pickwick. Where upon Mr. Winkle gallantly inquired if it couldn't be done by deputy; to which the young lady with the black eyes replied. "Go away"—and accom panied the request with a look which said as plainly as a look could do—"if you can." "My dear friends," resumed Mr. Pickwick, "I am going to propose the health of the bride and bridegroom— God bless 'em (cheers and tears.) My young friend. Trundle, I believe to be a very excellent and manly fellow; and his wife I know to be a very amiable and lovely girl, well qualified to transfer to another sphere of action the happiness which for twenty years she has diffused around her in her father's house. (Here the fat boy burst forth into stentorian blubber ings. and was led forth by the coat collar by Mr. Weller.) I wish." added Mr. Pickwick, "I wish I was young enough to be her sister's husband (cheers,) but, failing that, I am happy to be old enough to be her father; for, being so, I shall not be suspected of any latent designs when I say, that I admire, esteem, and love them both (cheers and sobs). The bride's father, our good friend there, is a noble person, and I am proud to know him (great uproar). He is a kind, excellent, inde pendent-spirited, fine-hearted, hospi table, liberal man. That his daughter may enjoy all the happiness, even he can desire; and that he may derive from the contemplation of her felicity all the gratification of heart and peace of mind which he so well deserves, is, lam persuaded, our united wish. So, let us drink their healths, and wish them prolonged life, and every bless ing!" Mr. Pickwick concluded amidst a whirlwind of applause; and once more were the lungs of the supernum eraries, under Mr. Weller's command, brought into active and efficient opera tion. Mr. Wardle proposed Mr. Pick wick ; Mr. Pickwick proposed the old lady. Mr. Snodgrass proposed Mr. Wardle; Mr. Wardle proposed Mr. Snodgrass. One of the poor relations proposed Mr. Tupman, and the other poor relation proposed Mr. Winkle; all was happiness aud festivity, until the mysterious disappearance of both the poor relations beneath the table warned the party that it was time to adjourn. At dinner they met again, after a five-aud-twenty mile walk, undertaken bv the males at Wardlc's recommenda tion, to get rid of the effects of the wine at breakfast. The poor relations had kept in bed all day, with the view of attaining the same happy consumma tion, but, as they had been unsuccess ful, they stopped there. Mr. Weller kept the domestics in a state of per petual hilarity; and the fat boy di vided his time into small alternate al lotments of eating and sleeping. The dinner was as hearty an affair as the breakfast, and was quite as noisy, without the tears. Then catne the dessert and some more toasts. Then came the tea and coffee; and then, the ball. The best sitting-room at Manor Farm was a good, long, dark-panelled room with a high chimney-piece, and a capacious chimney, up which you could have driven one of the new pat ent cabs, wheels and all. At the upper end of the room, seated in a shady bower of holly and evergreens, were the two best fiddlers, and the only harp, in all Muggleton. In all sorts of recesses, and on all kinds of brackets, stood massive old silver candlesticks with four branches each. The carpet was up, the candles burnt bright, the fire blazed and crackled on the hearth, and merry voices and light hearted laughter rang through the room. If any of the old English yeo men had turned into fairies when they died, it was just the place in which they would have held their revels. If anything could have added to the interest of this agreeable scene, it would have been the remarkable fact of Mr Pickwick's appearing without his gaiters, for the first time within the memory of his oldest friends. "You mean to dance?" said Wardle. "Of course I replied Mr. Pick wick. "Don't you see lam dressed for the purpose ?'" Mr. Pickwick called attention to his speckled silk stockings and smartly tied pumps. "You in silk stockings !" exclaimed Mr. Tupman, jocosely. "And why not, sir—why not?" said Mr. Pickwick, turning warmly upon him. "Oh, of course there is no reason why you shouldn't wear them," re sponded Mr. Tupman. "I imagine not, sir, I imagine not," said Mr. Pickwick, in a very peremp tory tone. Mr. Tupman had contemplated a laugh, but he found it was a serious matter; so he looked grave, and said they were a pretty pattern. "I hope they arc," said Mr. Pick wick, fixing his eves upon his friend. "You see nothing extraordinary in the stockings, as stockings, I trust, sir?" "Certainly not. Oh certainly not," replied Mr. Tupman. He walked away; and Mr. Pickwick's countenance re sumed its customary benign expression. "We are all ready, I believe," said Mr. Pickwick, who was stationed with the old lady at the top of the dance, and had already made four false starts, iu his excessive anxietv to commence. "Then begin at once." said Wardle. "Now!" Up struck the two fiddles and the harp, and off went Mr. Pickwick into bands across, when there was a gun- eral clapping of bands, aad a Cry of "Stop, stop!" "Wb&t'e tbe matter?" said Mr. Pickwick, who was only brought to [ by tbe eddies and harp deaiatiiny. and ADVERTISING KATFN. One square, one insertion, $1 ; each eubee •jnetif ineertiun, 00 ••euls. Yearly adverti&eeienta ticevdiug one-fourth of a column, ti per inch. I Kij'iire wurk double tLetw iu«; additional rbargee where weekly or moutlily change* are made. Local adverUaemenra 10 cent a per line for fir*t insertion, and 5 cents per Hue for each additional insertion. Matriagcs and deatba pub lished free ut charge. Obituary notices charged a« advertisement*. and payable when handed in laditorV Notiee*. $4 ; fcxecntors' and Admin:- rrators' Notice". *3 each; R«trav. Oatrlion au<* I Mseolntifiii Sot ice*, not exceeding ten line*, each. From the fact that the Ornzt* is the oldef established and most extensively circulated Ka rnblican neutipaj er in Butler ooonty. Repti) lican ronmy) it must be apparent* fo hr.Mii*!— men that it is the mediiun they ahould n-e in advertising their i>n*ine.-i». NO. 6. could hsve been Mopped by no earthly power, if the house had been on fire. "Where's Arabella Allen?" cried a i dozen voices "And Winkle ?" added Mr. Tup man. "Here we are !" exclaimed fl at gen tleman. emerging with his pretty com panion from the corner ; as he did so, it would have been hard to tell which was the redder in the face, he or the young lady with the black eyes. "What an extraordinary thing it is, Winkle," said Mr. Pickwick, rather pettishly, "that you couldn't have taken your pi ace In-fore." "Not at all extraordinary," said Mr. Winkle. "Well," said Mr. Pickwick, with a very expressive smile, as his eyes rested on Arabella, "well, I don't know that it tca.-t extraordinary, either, after all." However, there was no time to think more about the matter, for the fiddles and harp began in real earnest. Away went Mr. Pickwick—hands across— down the middle to the very end of the room, and half-way up the chimney, back again to the door—poussette every where—loud stamp on the ground—ready for the next couple—off again —all the figure over once more— another stamp to beat out the time— next couple, and the next again—never was such going! At last, after they had reached the bottom of the dance, and full fourteen couple after the old lady had retired in an exhausted state, and the clergyman's wife had been sub stituted in her stead, did that gentle man where there was no demand what ever on his exertions, keep perpetually dancing in his place, to keep time to the music; smiling on his partner all the while with a blandness of de meanor which baffles all description. Long before Mr. Pickwick was wearv of dancing, the newly-married couple had retired from the scene. There was a glorious supper down stairs, notwith standing, and a good long sitting after it; and when Mr. Pickwick awoke, late the next morning, he had a con fused recollection of having, severally and confidentially, invited somewhere about five-and-forty people to dine with him at the George and Vulture, the very first time they came to London; which Mr. Pickwick rightly considered a pretty certain indication of his hav ing taken something besides exercise on the previous night. "And so your family has gam.es in the kitchen to-night, my dear, has they ?" inquired Sam of Emtua. "Yes, Mr. Weller," replied Emma ; "we always have on Christmas eve. Master wouldn't neglect to keep it up on any account." "Your master's a werry pretty no tion of keepin' anythin' up, my dear," said Mr. Weller; "I never see such a sensible sort of a man as he is, or such a reg'lar gen'l'm'n. "Oh, that he is!" said the fat boy, joining in the conversation ; "don't he breed n<ce pork ?"' The fat boy gave a semi-cannibalic leer at Mr. Weller, as lie thought of the roast legs and gravy. "Oh, you've woke up. at last, have you ?" said Sam. The fat boy nodded. "I'll toll you what it is, young boa constructer," said Mr. Weller, impress ively ; "if you don't sleep a little less, and exercise a little more, wen you comes to be a man you'll lay yourself open to the same sort of personal in conwcnience as was inflicted on the old gen'l'm'n as wore the pigtail." "What did they do to him?" in quired the fat boy in a faltering voice. "I'm a-goin'to tell you," replied Mr. Weller; "he was one of the largest patterns as was ever turned out—reg'- lar fat man, as hadn't caught a glimpse of his own shoes for five-and-forty year." "Lor'!" Emma. "No, that he hadn't, my dear," said Mr. Weller; "and if you'd put an ex act model of his legs on the dinin' table afore hint, he wouldn't ha' known 'em. Well, he always walks to his office with a wery handsome gold watch chain hanging out, about a foot and a quarter, and a gold watch in his fob pocket as was worth—l'm afraid to say how much, but as much as a watch can be—a large, heavy, round manafacter, as stout for a watch as he was for a man, and with a big face in proportion. 'You'd better not carry that 'ere watch,' says the old gen'lm'n's friends; 'you'l be robljed on it,' says they. 'Shall I?' savs he. 'Yes you will,' says the}'. 'Yell,' says he, '1 should like to see the thief as could get this here watch out, for I'm blest if 1 ever can, it's such a tight fit,' says he; 'and venever I wants to know what's o'clock, I'm obliged to stare into the bakers' shops,' he says. Wei, then he laughs as hearty as if he was a-goin to pieces, and out he walks agin' with his powdered head and pig tail, and rolls down the Strand with the chain hangin' out furder than ever, and the great rouod watch almost bustin' through his grey kersey smalls. There warn't a pickpocket iu all Lon don as didn't take a pull at that chain, but the chain 'ud never come out, so they soon got tired o'dragging such a heavy old gen'm'l'n along the pave ment, and he'd go home ami laugh till the pigtail wibrated like the penderlum of a Dutch clock. At last, one day the old gen'l'm'n was a rollin along, and he sees a pickpocket as he know'd by sight a-comin' up, arm and arm with a little boy with a wery large head. ■Here's a game," said the old gen'l'm'n to himself; 'they're a-goin' to have another try, but it won't do!' So he begins a-chucklin' wery hearty, ven, all of a sudden, the little boy leaves hold of the pickpocket's arm, and rushes head-foremost straight into the old gen'l'm'n's stomach, and for a moment doubles him right up vith the pain, 'Murder!' says the old gen'lm'n. 'All right, sir,' says the pickpocket, a-whisperin' in his ear. And when he come straight agin, the watch and chain was gone, and what's worse than that, the old gcnTm'o'a digestion was *ll wrong ever artervarda, to the verv last day of bie life ; so jugt T*OU look j about you, youug feller, and take care ! you don't get too fat." As Mr. Weller concluded thi9 moral [Vr>'yt*.VDSl> rty foVBTR rA6*.J
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