IN
0
potirti.
From the London Examiner.
TILE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA.
DS 41 , 1tED TENNYSON
half a league. half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Into the valley of Death
Bode the o hundred,
For up eanit an order which
Some one bad liiindereci.
"Forward, the light Brigadol
"Take the gunS6Mplati said
Into the valley tdbeath
11 . • Bode the Mx hundred.
"Forward the light brigade!"
No man was there dismayed,
r' Not though the soldier knew
Some one had laundered:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die. ' •
Into the valley .4 Death
node the six !tinnily&
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thnndered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Wildly they rude and Iron,
into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of liell
lode the six hundred.
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed all at once in air
Sabring the gunners; there,
Charging an army while
All the world wondered
Plunged in the battery
With many a desperate stroke
The Russian line they broke;
Then they rode Murk, but
Nut the six hundred:
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While the horse and hero fell
'Those who had fought so well
Came from the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When coin their glory fader
0 the wild charze tlicy =del
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made)
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.
Pled ille.
From Chambers Edinburg Journal.
AN OLD WOMANS REMINISCENCE.
"Do you remember, dear Aunt Ruth," I
st length said, "that you once proinised to
tell me a story connected with that grand
house and your own little cottage ? Suppose
you tell it me on my birthday ; it, will be
doubly pleasant to sit here and listen to
% OU."
The calm, happy e4ression of Aunt Ruth's
face, which I had never before seen disturbed,
suddenly changed to one of intense sorrow;
ur rather, a quick thrill of pain seamed to
tallow my few words. This, however was
only momentary: in another minate the pla
cid tenderness so natural to her face resum
ed its sway, and I discovered no other sign of
emotion as she answered.
"You shall have your wish my rove :" and
then added in a low voice ; "It is right that
ithe should hear the promised history, and
that I should tell it." The latter part of
the speech the venerable lady rather mur
mured to herself than addressed to me; then
drawing her fine figure to its utmost height,
and folding her thin white hands upon her
lap, she commenced her narrative—which,
however, I prefer putting into my own lan
guage, believing Aunt Ruth's oral mod
esty prevented her from doing justic to the
heroine of the story. •
"Walter is late this evening, Mildred, and
vet I am almost certain that I saw him pass
on the river an hour ago. I may be mista
ken, but I wish you
_would run dowO to the
old summer house, and see if the boat is
moored. We ought to have got Through a
good portion of business to-night."
The speaker, a fine old man of some sev
enty winters, turned as he spoke towards a
deep window, where a young and strikingly
handsome woman sat resting her cheek up
on her hand, and gazing with a look of ab
straction upon the twilight shadows as they
deepened over the broad river, flowing at
the bottom of a long tiß'rate welkin front of
the house. Her father's voice suddenly re•
called her dreamy thoughts,. and raising has
tily, she said:
"Yes, dear father, I shall enjoy a stroll to
night; and if-the truant has not yet urrived,
I Can watch for him a little longer from the
mmtner house. We do not know what May
eve detailed Walter," she added, •tenderly
raising the old man's' hand to her. lips ; he
knows your 'love of punctuality, and I am
certain he would not wilfully keep you in sus-
pease."
, Mildred Vernon was the only child of a
widowed parent. A beauty and an heiress,
she was as might be supposed; not without
a goodly string of admirers ; of these her
father's choice and her own affection fell up
. on a relative of her own, whom her father
had brought. up-to his own calling—that of
an East India, merchant.. Accustomed from
59
boyhood tq regard his cousin with affection
ate admiration, Walter Vernon deemed it an
easy task, at Mr Vernon's affectionate sug
gestion, to yield up a free heart to her keep
ing: and he agreed gratefuly to the propo
sals made to him by his uncle, which ended
in his being at twenty-one the promised hus
band of the beautiful Mildred, - and the ex
pectant heir to her father's immense fortune.
To Mildred, however, whose ignorance of Mr.
Verhon's previous influence with her cousin
led herabelieve that the declaration of his .
was as earnest and independant of extran-•
eous eircumstalAes as her own affection their
engagement was very different, and for some
time the happiness of her young- seemed
without a cloud.
,Situated in the remote c6rner of the
grounds which surrounded Mr. Vernon's
mansion, IoW thatched cottage, cov•
ered with monthly roses and honeysuckle up
,to lowly eaves, and surrounded by a galaxy
of blossoins; This snug and roomy dwelling
had for years beets the abode of Roger Lee,
I .Mr. Vernon's gardener. Here, too, his only
child Alice was born ; and here, some years
after, the strong man and his young daugh
ter wept together over the lifeless form of a
beloved wile and mother; and the sympa
i- thy which had alwa)s existed between Mr.
Vernon and his faithful servant seemed more
_firmlyetn en ted by th e_ me I anchnly_same ness_
of their relative positions. The little Alice,
from her motherless childhood, had been au
. object of interest to thl worthy merchant.—
Born its the, autumn of the same year which
made him a widowed father, Mr. Vernon
looked upon her more in the light of a pret
ty playfellow to his own beautiful child, than
as the daughter of hiS servant : and this
kindly feeling was displayed in the liberality
with which he provided an education for Al.
ice Lee, better suited to her loveliness and
natural elegance of mind, than to her mere
conventional -position.
Half an hoar before the conversation be
tween Mr. Vernon and his daughter, which
we have already related, Alice Lee might
have been seen gazing as anxiously on the
broad river as the young heiress herself.—
Pushing back the diamond paned casement
until it rested upon a ledge of roses and
grqen leaves, she bent over the low window
sill till her golden curls touched the flowers
which clustered round. Suddenly site star
ted up as the gentle sound of oars met her
ear; and raising a face glowing with love
and hope, Alice passed quickly from her
; cottage parlor into the box-bordered walk
whit.lad to the river.
"Sweet Alice, am I not punctual?" ex
claimed a clear melancholy voice, as a young
man elegantly dressed in the fashionable
costume of rthe day, bounded up the brad
oaken .steps which led from the river, and
stood beside the gardener's daughter.
"Yes, dear Walter; very punctual ; and
yet I thought you long, and have been waiting
so anxiously for the sound of oars. But you
look sad and anxious, Walter. What tins
troubled you ?"
The youneman's broi grew darker, and
then flushed to a deep crimson, , as he gazed
with passionate earnestness upon the swet
upturned face which rested upon his Omni•
der, and then exclaimed : "Dear one would
you desire to hear the cause of my sorrow, if
you knew that such knowledge must make
you a partaker of it? Cate 'your love bear
this test, my Alice?"
"0 Walter l" murmered Alice reproachful.
ly, as she hid her tearfur face on his bosom.
"Dear, dear Walter, can you not trust my
love?" . .
"I do trust your love, my own sweet Alice,
and this only n'dds to my self reproach be
cause Alice" and the speaker bent his head
lower over the drooping form which clung to
Win so fondly--"it will soon be a sin for us
to love each other at all; for uncomcious till
too late of the nattne of my feelings towards
you, I have promised to marry my cousin.
Alice Lee raised her head, and gazing for
a Moment into 1 er lover's face, as if to read
there a contradict'on to the words he had
spoken, sprang fro n the still circling arm
which had supports her and as pale as the
white'roses which cluttered round the arhor
whore they had seated, sh&Appeared to walt
in stupid . silencefor at: explanation.
Another moment, and the rustle of a 111
dy's dress caused' dm bewildered girl to Juin
her eyes from the stern look of sorroKWhich
r)cralb.
was so plainly portrayed in her companion's
face, to encounter an expression equally
fearful on theimuutiftil features of th i intru
der: Like some - fair statue on whose linea
ments the intensity of hopeless despair was
'traced by a master chisel, stood Mildred Ver
non. Her large dark eyes were fixed upon
the young pair before her with the expres-
sion of agony which seeped to overpower
their sorrow in sympathy With hers. The
quick perception of Alice seemed at once to
understand, antLgliding from the sent where
she had crouched ii her sudden grief, she
ook the passive hand which hung by Mil
dred's side and rasing it to her lips, exclaim
ed wildly: "Forgive him dearest lady; only
forgive Walter—lie will love you. 0 I he
doeS love Tou already, as you deserve. See
he is weeping! He does not love me now ;
that is past, dear lady ; and you will forgive
him, and he his wife I"
Pale and lifeleis the unhappy speaker stmli
at the feet of her rival, who •appeared sud
,dealy recalled to her usual self possession. In
a calm voice, she bade Walter carry the
fainting Alice to an adjoining summer house;
where she watched with intense solicitude
for the first sign of recovery. Theft beck
oning her cousin Walter toiler side, she
placed' Alice Lee's hand in his, t and without
trusting herself to look into his face, said
slowly : "You must tell Alice, .Walter, that
you are not going to marry your cousin; that
you may love her without sin; and that to
morrow I will tell her so myself. You may
not like to see my father to night,; tomorrow
I will prepare him for an interview. There;
now see this poor girl to her home."
Passing- rapidly on to the house, Mildred
Vernon sought in the solitude of her own
chamber, upon- her beaded itnees, that con
solation which her crushed heart so sorely
neeCed; and she arose ai length, strengthen
_ed_ami. -confirmed i thei_gencreths
five her noble impulsive „nature had at once
suggested. The cup, indeed, contained a
bitter draught; but she resolved to drain it
to the very 'dregs, believing that in the enn
it would prove a wholesome medicine, which
in time might bring back some degree if
peace to her troubled spirit.
* * * * -* *
"Your engagement with Walter at an end
What on earth do you mean. child? I al
ways gave you, credit for knowing your own
mind a little better than MOM — Women.
Give me your reason for this behavior, Mil
dred."
Mildred was silent for a moment, ns if
struggling with some inward emotion, the
signs of which were 'painfully visible on'her
fine features, as, with a sadden .effort, she
said firmly: "Even at the risk of losing what
I prize so dearly, your good opinion, my
dear father, I can assign no reason than the
one already given—namely, that our marri
age, if persisted in, wou.d‘ be a source of
misery to both of us. Pray believe that this
is not grounded upon mere caprice: deep
searching into my own heart, and a clear
knowledge of Walter's feelings, have alone
,led me to decide thus. Only let me ask this
favor, dearest father, and the beautiful
,girl
clasped the old man tenderly around his
neck, and bent fondly over him—" that you
will not alter your pecuniary arrangements
with Walter in consequence of this change
in my views. Let him be as much your heir
as he would have been had he married your
only daughter."
"And what becomes of my daughter? If
she is satisfied to be a portidnless beauty for
her cousin's sake, might n i 9. her future hus.
band reasonably regard tl 's preference of a
once favored lover with something nearly
akin to jealousy?"
" Dear father, d (Imo pia me by speaking
thus. In giving up Walter, I-give up all
thought of marriage. My dear mother's for
tune is an ample one for a spinster—is it
not, sir? Nay, you almost promised not to
visit the sin of my fickleness, as you term it,
upon Walter; so make me happy now by
ratifying that promise."
Mildred's soft, clear voice faltered per
ceptibly, in spite of her efforts to appear
calm; and when Mr. Vernon raised his head,
and looked up into her thee, he saw that she
had been weeping c
"Come, my' Mildred, no tears. We -will
say no more'about your marrying, my sweet
child; and as to this other matter, it shall be
arranged nearly ns you would have it—only
my Mildred must be mistress of. this 'old
house; that cannot be Walter's
-now."
*! * *
Mr. Vernon kept his word; and when, a
Year after the events just related, his nephew
followed him to the grave, Ike returned to find
himself toaster of the princely fortune he
believed to have forfeited by his inconstancy.
Snme, months later Walter led his gentle
t 9 a handsome home• in the city, where
his happiness might have been complete but
for the painful knowledge that his happiness
was built upon the blighted hopes of' her to
whom he owed all his prosperity.
In accordance with her father's wish and,
the provisions of his. Will, Mildred Vernon
still kept up her establishment at Battersea,
living a life of quiet usefulness and benevo
lence until all traces of her sorrow seemed
to have been chased away. Mildred had
sedalonsly avoided meeting her cousin tiller
the death of her father; and she had not
seen Alice since the fatal scene which open
ed her eyes to her lover's real feeling towards
herself. The sudden news . of the entire
failure of one of Walter's business specula.
tions at length roused her more active efforts.
Determined at any sacrifice, to secure the
comforts of her beloved cousin, Mildred de
cided upon mortgaging her estate to its full
value, and thus, in some measure, relieving
him from his embarrasments. This gener
ous idea was no sooner conceived than exe
cuted; and a second time in his life Walter
found himself saved from comparative ruin
by the woman he had so cruelly wronged.
Years passedon; the mortgage upon the
old mansion was at length closed, and it
passed into the hands of a stranger, while its
once wealthy Mistress retired' to the cottage
of old Roger Lee, which with it large portion
of garden;she had managed to retain, and
here, with one faithful attendant, her days
,fleeted by as peacefully'as when she was sur
rounded by the luxuries of fortune.
Not until Alice sorrowed over the lifeless
form of her husband did Mildred conquer
her feelings sufficiently to visit her. Sh'e did
then forgetand conquer them; and to it was her
earnest sympathy and active diligence, that
the widow of Walter Vernon, and her
daughter Mildred, were indebted for a more
comfortable maintenance than the embar
rassed state of the merchant's affairs would
allow.
red-I ves --to—s e e—this-orpb an ed- name
sake the wife of a - Tch ,ail 'worthy citizen,
,and to find her own rrird in the peace of a
good con - science and the affection and rever•
ence of We grandchildren of her early and
only love— NValter Vernon.
Such was Aunt Ruth's story of her own
checkered life; for my readers will have long
since guessed that she was the beautiful and
generOus Mildred Vernon of my tale. It is
a tale, however, that is not - u fiction. Ro
mantic as is the love devotion of our heroine,
and unnatural as is the facility with which
the father yields to her wishes, there are
many who will be ablej to strip the narrative
of its .thin.„disguises, and detect in it an
episode_of_real life.
3tiollhinrou.
SOUP AT THE Ci RCUS.-A rather unique
performance at, the Parisian Hippodrome is
thus described:
"The introductory piece was a sort of re,
ceipe for making soup in the-most approved
style. The first who entered the arena was
a cook, with a hugh knife four feet long.
Directly following him were four boys, dress
ed in red tights and close•fitting shirts, with
caps of green leaves, to represent as many
radishes. There was no mistaking them for,
any other vegetable, Behind therh rode four
turnips. Then came carrots, pumpkins,
squashes, and several ladies representing
the different species of salads. Then came
beets, melons, leeks and mushrooms—the
whole being covered in the rear by several
boys representing red peppers. It was as
odd an exhibition as we have seen, and ren
dered interesting by tire singularly close man
ner in which nature was imitated by the
dressing and xeneral making of the different
vegetables. A child at one side, six years
old, culled out as they passed, the name of
each vegetable represented.
"As soon as they were all in the ring, the
cook commenced to mix them together, by
riding in every direction. At four points in
the circle stood four different vegetables of
enormous size: one was a mammoth melon
—another a big pumpkin—the third an im
mense carrot—and the fourth a beet.' As
the cook rode around, he stuck his long knife
in each, and cutting a string which helif-them•
up, they all expanded, and out jumped a
monkey from each, dressed a la cook, and
cut for home like good fellows on their hind
legs. It was a comical scene, and delighted
•
the young folks amazingly."
RETORT.—" If I were so 11111110(y as to have
a stupid son, 1 would certainly, by all means
make him a parson," said' an °dicer. A cler
gyman Who was ia the company calmly re.
plied, "You think differently from your
father."
" Recollect, sir," said a tarn 'keeper
o a coach passenger who had ot ly a glass of
rater, and not remembering the waiter—
'Recollect, sir,. if you lose your purse, you
lido't pull it out here!"
Tule. IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.
'This great question has been settled at
Rome, and the world is consequently sail
posed to be
.much wiser now, in one august
particular, than it was before. In the Grand
Convocation at Rome, the number of "votes"
was 576, including proxies, and about/120
bishops actually present. Of these, 640
pronounced by acclamation for the new„dog.:
ma; 32 voices questioned the appropriate
ness of such a discussion, just now; while
only 4 votes protested both against the dog-
ma and against the right of the Holy See to
decide a question of that importance Without
a regular council.—Commenting upon this
affair, the New York Express says:----.
" Votes"—vulgar votes—in these days,
thus solve the most awful mysteries of di.;
vinity,—solve it, too, as it seems to us, with
the same sangfroid that we settle the com
monest political questions of the day here, at
home. Now, all this may be right arid Right
Reverend. We do not cry it all down as
something very like a blasphemous and most
revolting presumption,—a presumption of
man to sit in solemn judgment upon his
Maker,—in order to determine whether—
speaking after the manner of men—the Son
of God was conceived humanly or otherwise.
If the Bible is . all as dark as midnight on
that point,—thp Fates help us if we are to
get light only from the I'io Ninos, the Tim
ons and thP' Fitzp4tricks of the -day,—that
is all.
TUE SAD RESULT OF IGNORANCE.—Tbe
Detroit Advertiser relates an instance of an
ox being killed and a sled broken to pieces
by a railroad car, and all because the ox'
could not understand French. The team,
consisting of one English and one =French - .
ox, drawing a heavy load of. wood, and,driven
by a French driver, was crossing the track
when the express train of cars made its ap:
pearance. The driver, in great excitement,
itnm.diately ordered his oxen to "chuck,",
(the French for "haw.") The French ox
understood him, and turning off the track
saved himself from injury; but the English
ox, having never studied the languages,
pressed further on, and was instantly killed.
This case'should be a warning to farmers to
have their oxen properly educated.
, HAD HIM THAT TIME.—The Boston (Mass.)
Post, tells the following:—"Rev. Mr. Foster,
of Salem, Mass., was a facetious' man, and
usually ready at joke and repartee. He had
a - parishioner, a carpenter by trade, 'pretty
well stocked with ready wit, and withal,
somewhat given to boasting': One day, while'
at work for his minister, hewing a stick of
timber, the carpenter was boasting in his
usual style of the marvels that he could per
form. The Pastor, to put an extinguisher
upon him, said, "Governor, (his nickname,)
dO you think you could make a devil?"
"Make a devil!" responded the Governor,
"why yes, oh yes!" (his broad-axe - moving a
little more rapidly,) "here, put up your foot--
you want the least alteration of any man I
ever saw!" It was rare that the minister
came offifecond best in such encounters, but
he did thiti' time. .
ORIGIN OF THE AMkEICAN FLAG.-A few
weeks since, a paragraph going the rounds,
inquired when the present United States flag
was adopted ; The Cincinnati Gazette re
plies thus: The following is the original reso
lution adopting the Stars and Stripes : In
Congress, hind 'l6, 1777: Resolved, that the
flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen
stripes alternately red and white; that the
Union be thirteen stars, white, in 'a blue field,
representing a new constellation." . As new
States were added to the Union, from time
to time, new stripes were added to the flag,
till the number had increased to fifteen or
twenty. At length, about thirty years ago,
the stripes were reduced by an aCt' of con
gress to the original number of thirteen.
1,&-A Southerner gave a dinner party t\'
a few friends, who happened to conve4
about SaulTio's power of head endurance, t4e•
gentleman said kg owned a negro whom no
one in the party could knock down or injure
by striking on the head. A strong burly
fellow, laughed at the idea, and as Sam, the
colored fellow, was about entering with the
candles, the gentleman stood behind the
door, and as he entered, Sam's bead received
a powerful sockdologer. The candles flick
ered a little but Sambo passed quietly on
merely exclaiming: "Gentlemen be care
ful of de elbows, or de lights will be distin
guished."
Iltrnovkur Platco.—lt is is stated that A
•Frenchman named M. Alaxander, has invent
ed a contrivance for giving the piano a pro
longed sound. For nutnylyear:q this has helen
sought for in vain. It wns impossible to eh:
. .
tain a sustained note, like the human
... voice
or the violin. The - inV'eution is said to hd
vermgmple.