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TERMS OF PUBLICATION The Carittntz Ilenoto in published weekly on alargo ',hoot containing twenty Igbt column and furnished to nubncribers at $1,50 It paid strictly in advance, $1,75 pull within the year; or -sii in all cased when pay moat in ddayed until alter the expiration o: the year •übscriptionn received for a lose period thou six let he, add sons dinvontinued titan all the arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. Papers sent to eii3ll,:ribOYA living out of Cumberland county must be paid (or in advance. or he payment assumed by il,llllo responsible porson lir ng 1.. Cuzehe, land county. Those terms will he rigidly adhered to In all Cason, ADVEIII'ISI4MENTS Advertisements will h.., rli.trged 1.00 per square of twelve lines for three insertions, and 25 cents for isach übse.i neat Insertion. All advertisements of lens than twelve lines considered as it square. Ad vertise aim to in <orted before Nlarrlages and tlislhs 8 00110 p sr line for lire! Insertion, anti 4 cents Per line f subsequent Insertions. Comm anicallons on subjects of limited or Individual intere•t will be thar.ted 5 cents por line. 'the Proprietor will not be rem ,nsibl sin dun.r•jes for errors in advertisements. Obituary notices or Marriages not exceeding live lines, will be Inserted without charge. JOB PRINTING. The Carlisle Herald JOB PRINTING OFFICE la the largest and most complete astahlihament in the county. Four good Presses, and a general variety of materials suited for slain and Fancy work of every kind enables us to do Job Printing at ti's shortest notice and no the most reasonable terms. Persons in want of Bills, Blanks or anything In the .Tubbing line, will find it to their Interest to give us a rail. c grlrrtM PSOOq. When the Swallows Homeward Fly IVlsen the swallows homeward fly, NI - hen the roses seat.tered lie, When from neithei,hill nor dale, Chants the ally'ry nightingale. In these words my bleeding heart, Would to thee Its grief IMpart, IVhen I thus thine image lose, eh, gen I o'er lorim repose, Can 1, all, can 1 know 11.1)0814. I=lllllll To seek at noon the nrantrw groves, When the red tints of the West, Prove the sun has gone 10 rest, In these words toy Wedding heart, Would to thee Its grief itopart, When I thus thine image !Gee, Can I, at, ran I e'er sooty repose, Can I, at, can I o'er know repose. Hush my heart, why thus complain Thou must too thy woos contain, Though on earth no !noire wo rote, Loudly breathing vows of lore, Thou my heart must find relief, Yielding to these words belief; 1 shall see thy term again Though today we part again, Though to-day we part again. ~~~~~~~l~axaz~coll~. DEATH AT THE ALTAR A PHYSICIAN 8 STI)Ill " At last!" I said, joyfully, as I de scended the steps of a London mansion and entered my brougham. "At last my day's work is finished, and I may hope for at ledst a few hour's repose. Hume," I said to the coachman; and, throwing myself back in the seat, gave way to my thoughts. I had acquired, during a practice extending over nearly thirty years, a habit of passing in review, at the close of my day's labors, all the 'patients whom - I had-seerr-and -prescribed-fur: this habit I attribute, in a great measure, the suece•=sful treatment of many of my most difficult cases ; fur frequently, while thus reconsidering the case, away from the sick-room, the nervous worrying of the patient, and the well-meant but inju dicious comments of friends, an entirely new diagnosis would present itself, and ultimately prove the correct one. My visiting list that day was a heavy one, and I had reconsidered the symptoms and determined on the treatment of half my patients before I arrived at my own house in Cavendish Square. Alas !my dreams of repose were futile, for, as soon as I en tered, the servant handed me two notes One was from a Mrs. Mansfield, the wife of a rich city merchant, with a mansion in Easton Square, and ran as fbllows " Docion—Pray come round at once. Clara has had another of those distressing nervous attacks ; if anything, worse than the previous ones. Use all your skill, for at the present juncture it is most awkward "Yours, very truly, EMMA MANSFIELD." " Awkward, indeed 1" I muttered, not over pleased. " And is that the tern: used by a mother in speaking of a daugh ter's health ! U Mammon, thou art in truth omnipotent! Here in this mercen ary old woman speaking of her daugh ter's bad health as ' awkward,' and why .! Because the said daughter had attracted the favorable regards of a man old enough to be her father—a lump of gout and ser• vile imbecility. What matter! Is be not a baronet ! Sir Richard Burley of Burley Hall, Berks, ,, with fifteen thousand a year ; a park, a town house, and family jewels, of course; and of course, also, poor little Clara Mansfield's nervous at tack's (as her mamma designates viol6nt hysterics, followed by deadly syncope ) are very awkward,' when the baronet is expected to make an offer every day." Telling the coachman to wait, I ' entered the house, and, while waiting for a glass of water and a biscuit, (dinner was out of the question,') opened the other note. It ran thus : ./ "DEAR DOCTOR—Please give me a look round at once. That confounded RUSSIAN BULLET in my body gives me a good deal of pain to-dad, Besides, I wish to see you par tioutarly on another subject, which almost drives me mad. s' Yours very sincerely, Gunnar, SEVY." •° Confound the fellow !" 1 muttered; been out to a bachelor's party, 1, sup p)se—had too much punch, and as a con sequence the ' UR - he calls it, in his body, sets up a mild^ inflamma tion by way of it reminder of its pros- ence." 'Nevertheless, in less than five minutes I was being whirled down to Selby's chambers in Clarges street,_Piceadilly.— Now, in spite of my ill-humor, I felt un easy at, young Selby's brief Note. First purely professional point of view, did not like the return of the pain from the bullet ;• secondly, in a more human friendly point of view, ,I was concerned to know what had ,occurred to make my young friend write in such strong-terms. lie was not usually demonstrative;. but now he wrote of something which " al most, drove him mad." George Selby had been a patient of mine for some nine months, and, under Providence, owed his life to my unremit ting care. Ile was a lieutenant in the —th Foot, and first on the list for his company. On the glorious but bloody day of Inkerman he was stricken down while leading his company on, (the cap tain had previously fallen.) Ile was car ried desperately wounded from the corpse strewn plain—alive, but leaving his left arm behind him, and carrying off in lieu of it a brace of bullets in his body. One was successfully extracted, and, in due course, the wound healed. The stump of his left arm, too, pro, gressed favorably, and, hut for the empty sleeve, was as sound as before. But the second bullet puzzled the whole staff of surgeons, army and civilian. They knew it was in, but not all their skill could get it out In vain they probed; in vain they speculated as to its whereabouts.— Wherever it was, it 'seemed determined to remain ; so after putting the poor wounded soldier to the torturb several times in each day during a weary month, they gave it up in despair, allowed the wound in the chest to heal, and sent the incorrigible Russian projectile home in theinvalided body of poor George Selby. One surgeon, loth to give up the search, boldly proposed to the patient that he should submit to a "little operation."— When" interrogated by the wounded lieu tenant as to its nature, this practitioner cooly informed him that the "little ope'r ation" merely consisted in cutting down through the dorsal muscles, , to the supposed site of the ball, instead of at tempting to find it by the'wound ! He, however, decidedly objected to be cut down through the back on the chance of finding the bullet somewhere. All my professional brethren whom he had consulted had strictly enjoined a lowering diet, with total abstinence from stimulents, arid anything which could in the least degree tend to irritate and in flame the seat of mischief. Now, al though I could not condemn this mode of treatment under the circunistances, yet I saw plainly that a change was the only chance of saving the patient's life: Fear ful of inflammation, which was always threatening, _sometimes imminent, they had adopted the most•stringent antiphlo gistie measures, and had thereby weak ened the system and lowered the vital powers to that degree, that to lower them further would be to lower the patiem out of existenee.• Suieh being the state of af fairs, I -ordered lout to the sea-side, told him to take nourishing food and a pint of port wine daily, until the inflammation and pain were deeirledly disappeared.— Then I gi e hint directions how to sub due it, principally by local means, for I foresaw clearly that the system would bear no more. tampering with. He fol lowed toy advice with much wonder and some little misgiving. However, the ease turned out exactly as I expected ; the wine and good living did bring on a re- turn of the Inflammatory symptoms.— These, however, were subdued by local applicationsyleechingrst - IpTring - the - wine , and lowering the di, t again for a day or so, while the general he.ilth was so uni-..h improved as to enable him successfully to resist and ride over the danger. After the first fortnight he had no return of the pain or any of the bad symptoms, arid I congratulated myself on having effected a perfect cure. Selby returned to town, and, seeing much of him, I got to like him amazingly. fl is large frank nature had in it something so resh ; his grati tude to myself was, though unostentatious, so genuine, that I, old, hard man of the world, a. 9 a long London practice had made me, felt deeply interested in the young lieutenant. His fortitude and good temper, even when his frame was at the weakest and his sufferings were at the highest point, were such as in a long experience 1 had seldom seen equaled— never exceeded. He came to see me fre quently, and made of me a confidant in in all his troubles, mental as well as physical. Thus it happened that I kneW all about himself and his prospects. The latter were tolerable, for although he had in praesenti only about a huhdred and thirty pounds a year above his pay, he had in fuluro a certainty of a moderate estate of something like fifteen hundred a year after the death of an old uncle of sixty. Arriving Clarges street, I was shown into his apartments, where I found him impatiently pacing up and down the room. His face was flushed, while I could at once see, by the sudden twitch that ever and anon came over his features, that his old enemy, the " Russian," as he called the bullet, was making itself felt. " Why, George, my boy," I said, " What's the matter ? You look hot and feverish. Let me feel your pulse r— 'took his hand. " Ninety-five as I live," I cried, " and with a sharp twang like a harp-string. Why, what on earth have you been doing with'yourself ? You•were perfectly well when I saw you yesterday." " Doing with myself" he replied'; " upon my word, doctor, 1 hardly knoW. It's not the bullet that troubles me, though , Heaven knows that's,bad enough." Here his features again twitched con vulsively, and he turned deadly pale as the pain shot through him. True to him self, however, he never uttered a word on the subject, and when it had somewhat passed off, continued— " Sit down, doctor, and I'll tell you all about it." He filled himself a glass of wine, and was about to comirience when 1 stopped him. " You aro drinking wino, I see ! How much have you taken to-day," I asked. " That's the second bottle since tour o'clock," he said, coolly, pointing to a de canter in which there was about a tea spoonful leTt. • " Well, upon my word, this is very nice conduct ! Here you send for me, and I find you in a burning fever, with all the old bad symptoms returning, and you drink wine before my face, and coolly tell me, you've finished two bottles in, less than three hours, why, sir, you're mad !" 't Qom°, doctor," ho said, "-don't be A s)sangm TR% VASalta eltanalM. ill-tempered. I care little for the bodily pain; but if you knew what I suffer in mind, you would make some allowance for me." " Well, well," I said looking at my watch, " make haste and say what you have to say, as I have another patient to t visit, and have not yet dined." " Yes, I know," he said bitterly; " you are going to see Clara Mansfield ; her mother has §ent for you." Then seeing 'my look of surprise, he added : " You wonder how I knew it— c -quite a clairvoy ant you think me, do you not 7 But, it is ea , ily explained, for I was there when the young lady was attacked, and it was in my arms she fell when she fainted." My astonishment was great at this, for t although I knew George Selby to be ac ' (painted with the Mansfield-i, having my self introduced hioi, I was not aware that I he was on such terms of intimacy as to be an afternoon visitor. If I was surprised at this fact, I was infinitely more so as he went on speak- Ile spoke rapidly and passionately, awl several times ere he concluded rose and walked impatiently up and down the room. It was now some months since I intro duced him to the Mansfield family. Mrs. Mansfield, whose whole heart was set on forcing leer was into good • society, had asked me as a particular favor to introduce to her as many gentlemen of good position and family as possible. Mr. Mansfield had but lately retired from business, and migrated from his house at Clapham to the Eaton Square mansion ; consequently their circle of West-end acquaintance was extremely limited ; nor could Mrs. Mans field, with all her worldly wisdom and manieuvering, backed by the *money bags of her husband, succeed in increasing it as she could have wished. A great din ner party was determined_ on; but al though' he viands and cookery might be of the best, and the wines of the costliest vintages, the dinner would be given in vain if there were no one to eat it. It was under these circumstances that introdkiced my friend, Lieutenant Selby. En answer to their inquiries, 1 was ena bled to inform them that he was well , born, well connected, with good prospects, and moving in food circles. With this they were fully satistii d, and George Sel by, with his interesting pale face and empty sleeve, was made quite a lion of. With the two young ladies he became an espacial favorite ; and I soon fancied that Clara, the younger, was far from itadiffer ent to his merits, mental and personal, which were not small, spite of his one arm. As fur the young felkw himself, I never could quite make him out lie would talk, laugh and flirt to their heart's content; with the full approval,'be it ob served, of the worthy mamma, who doubt less at that time considered him a 'deci dedly eligible parti—at all events too good an acquaintance to be diseouragnd., It seemed to me,. however, notwithstand ing the disguised preference of my pretty Clara for him, that he divided his atten -timr- pretty-N-(111111y between-1 ire-t ters ; I was*therefore the more surprised when he informed me this day, that al though lie had never declared his love, he and die young lady perfectly understood each other alter less than a month's ac quaintance. Soon, however, the Mans fields, by dint of pushing and elbowing their way, managed to get the thin end of the wedge into society ; one introduc tion led to ' another : occasionally the merchant could boast of a live lord at his mahogany, and more than one baronet's card might have been found in the card plate. In proportion as Mrs. Mansfield increa sed and extended her acquaintance, her self-esteem rose, and she began to regard George Selby as scarcely up to their stan dard. It was at this juncture that a lit tle misunderstanding arose between him self and Clara—jealousy on her part and pride on his—for he was proud as Luci fer, and would laugh at them to their faces about their wealth and his own po verty. From what he himself told ~me, and from what happened afterwards, I know that Clara Mansfield really loved him—alas ! for herself, deeply, perma nently. I had known Clara from a child, and could theiefore vouch for her affec tionate, amiable disposition ; but I also knew that she was passionate, and at times hasty. Although George Selby was at no time formally her suitor, accepted or otherwise, her woman's heart told het' that he loved her, and it required no con juror to discover the state of her feelings towards him, for she was impulsive and candid, almost .do an extreme. This be ing the ease, che assumed the privileges and power she should have possessed had they been formally engaged. Sooth to say, George bore this very well, for the yoke was a very light one, and the whip, when Wielded by the charming Clara, was rather a; delicate compliment than a chas tisement, or restraint. 'Ono unlucky day, however, Clara gave his ,prido a blow from which it never re-, covered. The very excess of her love for him made her almost morbidly jealous; and on this ocleasiounhe thought be had been paying too great attention to some other fair damsel. Selby kept his tem per admirably, rather pleased than other wise-at this evidence-of the deep love she, bore him. Not so'Clara. Provoked a yond endurance by the playful manner in which he parried her reproaches, she pro ceeded a step farther, and, though„in her heart she knew he was as true as steel, oven questioned his motives in paying his attentions to her.. Not noticing or not heeding. the growing paleness of his face, and the gathering cloud on his brow, she went on wounding his proud spirit more deeply every moment, till at last the bit-' ter, unpardonable words were said—yes; 'she, Clara Mansfield, ROM kneW he was the soul of honor, asserted -that ho cared not one bit for herself, hut that 'it was - -her fortune that attracted him She said the, words, and knew at the time thilt they wore false as he was true. She spoke them deliberately, and, her heart smote her instantly for her injustice. She stamped her little foot as she Anishad, and CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, DLCEMBER 5, 1862. waited impatiently for an answer, hoping that he would be in a passion, and indig nantly disclaim any such motives. Then she would say she was sorry, and would make it up again, and they would be bet ter friends than ever. Thus thought poor Clara. Alas! for human forethought, George Selby did nothing of the sort. He was silent for a ' long time, remaining standing before her with downcast eyes and pale. She began to be frightened. At last he raised his head, and, bowing coldly, said quietly— " Miss Clara Mansfield, I have the honor to wish you a very good morning." Then he turned and left the room, and Clara was alone with her misery. Selby saw her no more, for he carefully avoided the house, until this day, when meeting Mr. Mansfield, who had none of his wife's high notions, he had been drag ged in almost against his will. He de clared he would not have gone had not the old gentleman said the young ladies were out. This proved, however, not to be the case ; for Clara was at home, and in spite of all be could do to prevent it, they were left alone together in the room. There was an embarrassing silence ; then she burst into tears, and throwing herself at his feet, begged folgiveness for her words. " What could I do?" he said to me.— " I could only tell her I had nothing to forgive, and console her." " Of course you could not do otherwise. But now, my buy, it sculls to rue that the quarrel is made up. Wliat is it that an noys you? Can you be so ungenerous as to bear malice still ?" " Wait a minute," he continued bitter ly; "you have not heard all. It appears that this very morning—urged on, influ enced, and, I fancy, intimidated by that heartless old mother of hers=she has ac tually accepted Sir Richard - Burl - 6y r' " She told me," he continued after a pause, " that she had written to me twice, and looked and longed in vain -for an an swer. The old story I suppose—scheming mother in the interest of rich suitor inter -cepts•letters to poor one. - All this she told me, and more. She said she hated, loathed this man whom she had accepted, and that she loved me. Then Mrs. Mans field came into the room and a scene en sued. he reproached Cram with a false hood, ingratitude, d 1 know. nut what; me she accused of being dis honorable, abusing the rights of hospital ity, and finally concluded by expressing her belief that it was her daughter's for tune which I sought. At this last accu sation Clara fired up and defended me against her mother, until, unable any lon ger to endure the torrent of reproaches hurled at me, she fell faintinr , in my arms. Then all was hurry.scurry and conf•fsion,' and while she was yet insensible, tife ac cepted lover drove up in his carriage. I heard the servant dispatched for you, and as soon as Joy poor gi rl began.. to. ShoW signs of returning life, I left the house I wet Sir Richard on the stairs, and if ever I felt inclined to pitch a man over the bannister, it was --- thert -------- AifitiloW; doctor, you know all. I shall, of course,, never return to the house again, and poor, little Clara will be Lady Burley, of Bur-1 ley Park, &c." " Conic, come," I said. "Nil Despe randum ! Let us hope for the best. I will see what can be done ; meanwhile you take this composing dtaught • and go to bed. I will come to you early to-mor row." He sent out the prescription for the draught, but declared he would not, could riot, lie down; so I left him pacing im patiently up and down the room, and drove to Eaton Square. I was shown into the drawing-room, and was quickly joined by Mrs. Mans field. "So 'very unfortunate for poor dear Clara!" she said, sailing up to me and taking my hand in her vulgarly artificial manner; "so peculiarly unforturiate,,doe tor, at present I I suppose you know that she is engaged to be married toßir Rich ard Burley. Such an excellent match Dear Clara has the hiibcst regard and respect for him, and he, dear man ! is most impatient for the ceremony to come off. Indeed, papa and I have just been talking it over with Sir Richard, who is still with Mr. Mansfield, and who talks of afortnight; but we both thought that nothing less than a mouth would be pro per and decorous. Do you not agree with me, doctor ?" " Madam," I said, gravely, "my time is valuable ; I was not aware that you sent for me to discuss the details of your daughter's marriage. I gathered from your note that she was ill, and hurried here, as from - what I know of her consti tution I mistrust and . fear these fainting fits." I could sobroely keep my temper dur ing the next five minutes, in which Mrs. Mansfield insisted on treating , nre with the whole history of the arrangements= the liberal settlements promised by Sir Richard, the family jewels, and all the other primary points in the eyes of the sons and daughters.of Mammon. [CONCLUDED NEXT. WEEK.] _ ANIMAL INSTINCT."--I knew of a jack daw that often used to_eat the gum that excuded from plum trees, and always did so when unwell. In connection with this subject, it may well bo mentioned that a careful observer would find hiruseff.re, paid by watching the modes of care em ployed by the sick and wounded creatures. We all know that dor , s and cats resort to grass when they feel of health, and hares to a species of moss. I was told, on the authority of an•eye-witness, that a goldfinch, which had been struck by a hawk, and wounded, made its way to a dry puff-ball, tore it open with its beak. and' dusted the wounddd shoulder with the,spores, thereby - stopping the effusion oqlood. The spectator was greatly sur prised at the incident, and being induced to try the same remedy upon a wounded finger, found that the experiment war CQUlPletely succestiful.—Routleclge7f illus trated Natural Iliatory. • THE TWO PICTURES A few years agO, some persons of culti vated taste, and lovers of the fine arts, met at the house of a distinguished traveler. During the evening, a discussion arose among the guests respecting certain paint ings, and the comparative merits of the old masters. " I hear," said the ho'sii turning to a friend at the table, " that you purchased the large picture that in days of yore adorned my hall." " Yes," was the reply, " and although I obtained it at a very moderate price, considering its great merit, it ultimately proved a very bad bargain for me." " I can tell you," said the gentleman, "a very singular adventure connected with that picture; but before I do so, pray tell me how your afflictions arose." "It is a simple story, and I fear you will say—the story of a simpleton. The picture was greatly 'admired; and one day a gentleman expressed a great desire to inspect it, and after giving utterance in glowing terms to his admiration, he urged that it should be sent to a person, whom he named, to be cleaned and repaired. I consented to confide it to this highly ex tolled artist, and after paying some pounds fora suitable case, and divers other pounds for charges to and fro, and thirteen pounds to the knight of the brush for his labor, I again received my picture, but, in the in terval, alterations in the house rendered so large a picture no longer admissable; therefore forwarded it to London for sale. This was another expense. It was placed in a galle`iy, and there for some time it remained ; but the expenses becoming too heavy, I ordered it to be sold for whatever it would produce. For my consolation, I received a letter informing me that had 1 sent the painting to town in its original state, the writer would have given me two hundred guineas for it; but now ten pounds was the utmost the picture was worth, and from this goodly sum must be deducted all the charges incurred, which meant, in other words, that I had to pay whatever sum was due over the, said ten pounds. I settled the matter and hid adieu -to my picture, and my advice to others is now exceedingly prudential. I say to them—if you are rash enough to buy an old painting, at least be wise enough to shun all repairs and cleaning. It is like gilding a. bronze, you waste your gold and your bronze is spoilt. Now, my friend, that you have had your smile at my simplicity, let us hear your.adven ture." "It is soon told. When I was in Italy, I had the opportunity of seeing very many choice pictures in private collections, and on my return to England, I was astonish ed to learn that. one of these collections had been sent to this country, and was to be sold by an eminent auctioneer in Bond street. I took care to attend the sale, as there were two pictures which I desired to possess; the one was the painting which caused your dpictions, and the other was a cabinet picture, very small, but deli cately_finished, and theiwitt .to_be the best production of that master. The atten dance was good, and the contest for the little painting was very spirited, but stop ped very suddenly when the last bidding had reached to nine hundred and fifty pounds. Upon:this I advanced twenty five pounds, and no one seemed, as I thought, willing to exceed that sum, when a Jew cried out a thousand pounds. 1 bid ag ain twenty-five pounds, and felt as sured that the picture would be mine; but, as the hammer was falling, my oppo nent, the Jew, called nut : Make it guineas.' "The bidding ceased, and the auction eer turned to me, first, a second, and even a third time, and almost entreated me not to lose the picture. 1 said, cannot go higher,' and the picture, the next mo ment, became the property of the Jew. A very few minutes aftetwzgds, a foreign er entered the room in great haste, And coming up to me inquired, in broken En glish, when the cabinet picture was to be sold, pointing to the catalogue. I replied: "'lt is already sold.' "'What do you mean, sae' he exclaim ed. " ‘: mean,' was my reply, 'that you are too late; for the lot you mention has been put up at auction and sold.' " The gentleman left me, but shortly after came to me again : "'I do understand, sar,' he said, ''that you have bought the picture.' "'You have been misinformed, sir,' I replied. bid for the picture, but I was not successful. Had 1 purchased the painting, it would have been added to my little collection ; bat the person who ob tained it, if I am not in error, has bought it for sale, a 0 the punbaser you will find standing in yonder corner, I may.tell you for your guidance, that - my bid was one thousand and twenty-five pounds, and the Successful offer was one thousand and fifty pounds: . " The foreigner expressed 'his thanks for the information, and after a short time ho returned to me, bringing with him the buyer of the picture, and requested me to do him the favor to step aside to witness 'his arrangement for the purchase of the painting. The terms agreed upon were that the foreigner was to pay the auction eer the one thousand and fifty pounds purchase money, and whatever charges there might be, andkicT pay the Jew one thousand five hundred pounds as .a profit. upon the picture. When_the terms were settled, the fortunate Jew—finding that without drawing one pound from his own purse, be was to deposit one thousand five hundred pciunds into it—could not con ceal his delight, and in the exuberance of his ciultation, he laughed, and leaped, and rubbed his hands. The French gen tleman, unable to comprehend this active "kind of mirth, mistook it for ridicule, and regarded it as an insult on the part of the Jew.- - -The offended man's wrath rose to actual rage; when, clenching his fist at the Jew, he cried out : "Aron laugh at me, ear—yon insult me—yes, ear, you mock - me because. you have, gained one thousand pounds. by me, now, sar, as you do make de sport of me) I will tell you something. I belong - to de King of Holland, and my master say to me, 'There is such a picture to be sold in ' England; there are but two of that kind in do world, and I have de onei and I desire very much to have de other: Now, you go directly to England, and buy that picture, and you hear me, sar,' said the king, 'you never come back to Holland if you do not bring that pictute with yotr.' Why, sar, in place of giving you de tWo thousand and five hundred pounds for de painting, I would have givtrn you five thousand pounds if you had asked mo that prioe for de picture--yes, sar, I would have given you five thousand pounds.' " No sooner had the Jew heard that-he might have obtained two thousand five, hundred pounds above the price he had asked, than his joy vanished in a moment, and he set up a roar, wringing his hands in deep agony. The one thousand five bun-. dred pounds profit already obtained was lost sight of in the overwhelming grief of thinking that had it not been for his mo desty in asking, he might have walked out of the room a richer man by four thousand 'pounds. The foreigier's tri umph was complete, and if the Jew be living, it'is more than probable that his chagrin continues to this day, and what is worse, that he rrever Will forgive himself while life lasts. If revenge were the an gry Frenohman's object, never was re venge more effectually accomplished.— When I consider the opposite results to the Jew and to yourself', the two buyers of these pictures, I fear there is some truth in honest Sancho's sentiment: 'that some men arc born with a silver spoon in • their mouths, and others with only a wooden ladle.''' FEMALE CRIMINALS.—MaIe criminals are influenced by some amount of r.easan and forethought; but the female prisoner flies in the very face of prudence, and acts more like a mad woman than mra tional, reflecting human being. Those who are cunning enough to carry on, by signs, and looks, and tappings on the wall, a correspondence with their neighbors, are less refractory than those of less ex perience in evading prison rules. I have known many women, in defiance of a day or two's bread and water, suddenly shout across the airing yard, or from one cell to another, with a noise all the more vehe ment for the long restraint to which they have been subjected; and such a proceed ing, if remonstrated with, is generally followed by a smashing of windows, and a tearing up of sheets and blankets, that will often affect half a ward with a similar example, if the delinquent is not speedily carried off to refractory quarters. It has long been observed that the force of ex ample, in the matter of "breakings out," is sure to be strikingly exemplified; that for the sake of change, even, and for that excitement which appears to be a part of their being, without which they must go melineholy mad; two or threMivbinen in. a quiet, aggravating manner, arrange for a systematic smashing of windows and-tearing.of-sheets- and -blankets:- have even known women address their matrons in a style similar to the follow ing : " Miss G , I'm going to break out tonight." " Oh, nonsense, you won't think of any such folly, I'm sure." Per suasion.is generally attempted at first, as a "breaking out" disturbs a whole prison greatly for a day or two. " I'm sure I shall, then." "What for?" "Well, I've made up my mind ; that's whlt for. I shall break out tonight—see if I don't." "lies any one offended you, or said any thing ?" "N—no. But I must break out. It's so dull here. I'm sure to break out." "And then you'll go to the 'dark."' "I went to go to the " is the an swer. And the breakin , b out often oc curs, as promised; and the glass shatters out of the window frames, and strips of sheets and blankets are passed through or left in a heap in the cell, and the guards are sent for, and there is a scuffling, and fighting, and screaming, that Pandemo nium might equal, nothing else.—Female Life 'Prison. Discoveries IN JENUSALEM : An account of Signor Piorotti's discoveries in the subterra nean topography of Jerusalem has been pub lished. Employed by the Pasha as an engi• neer, he has discovered that the modern city of Jerusalem stands on several layers of ruin ed masonry, the undermost' of which, compos ed of deeply bevelled end enormous stones, he attributes to the age of Solomon, the neat to that of Zorobabel, the next to that of Herod, the next to that of Justinian, and so on till the time of the Saracens and Crusaders. He has traced series of conduits and Bowers 1a44- ing from the "doom of the rock," a mosque standing on the very site of the altar of Bawl tice in the Temple, to the Valley of Jehoso phat, by means of which the priests were en &bled to furnish the whole temple area with rater, and thus to carry off the blood and offal of the sacrifices to the brook of Kedron. The manner of this exploration was very in teresting. He got an Arab to walk' p through those immense sewers, ' ringing a boll and blowing a trumpet, while he himself by fol- • lowing the sound was able to trace the exact course they took. About two years ago ho accidentally discov ered a fountain at the pool of Bethesda, and o• his opening it a copious stream of water immediately began to flow, and has flowed ever since. No one knows from whence it comes or wither it goes.' This caused the greatest excitement among the Jews, who flocked in crowds to drink and bathe them selves in it They lauded it was one of the signs of Messiah's coming, and portended the speedy restoration of their commonwealth. This fountain; which has a peculiar taste like that of milk and water, is identified by Signor Pierotti with the fountain which Hex ekiah built, and which is described.Lby Jose phus. The measurement and position of most of those remains accord exactly with the Jewish historian's descriptions. Some of the Signor's conclusions are disputed, but no one has succeeded In so disinterring the relics of the Holy City. ALL the women of the villages on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico are in the. habit of swimming The young ladies aro all," diving belles." MILTON says' that ,many thistles grow upon Parnassus. pat must be the rea son why so many donkeys browse at its base. - . • • heir It le better to look round on prosperi ty then book on glory. 5111. 50 per annum In advant6 t $2 00 If not paid in-advance Epj A TALENTED PIG The Rev. J. G. Wtion„ier his "Aeinad Traits and Charactetisties," thus glorified one: "A curious animal is a pig, gentle: men ! Very cunning, too—a great deal more sensible than people give their( ere: dit for. I had a pig aboard my ship that was too knowing by half. All hands Were fond of him, and there *as not one oti board who Would have seen him injured. There was a dog on bodtd, too, and tho pig and he Were capital friends; they ate out of the same plate, Walked about the decks together, and would lie down sidd by side under the bulwarks in the sun. The only thing they ever (paroled about was lodging. The dog, you see, sir, had got a kennel for himself; the pig had nothing of the sort. We did not think he needed one ; but he had his own no tions upon that matter. Why should Toby be better housed off a night that he 1 Well, sir, he had somehow got it into his head that possession is nine parte of the law ; and though Toby tried to' show him the rights of the question, he was so pig-headed that he could not un derstand. So every night it caine to be catch as catch can.' If. the dog could, get in first, he wont.] show his teeth, an the other bad to lie under the boat,.or to find the softest plank where he could ; if the pig was in possession,the dog tOuld not turn him out, but looked out for his re venge next time. One evening, gentle- . men, it had been blowing hard all day' and I had just ordered close-reefed sails; for the gale was increasing,: and• there' was a. good deal of sea running, and it.: was coining on to be Wet; in short, I said to myself, as I called down the compan ion-ladder fur the boy to - bring up my pea-jacket, 'We are going to have a dirty The-pigdwas-slipping and tumb:: ling about the decks, fur the ship lay over so much with the breeze, being close hauled, that he could not keep his hoofs. At last, lie thought he would go and se , cure his berth for the night, though it wanted a good bit to dusk. But, Io and behold ! Toby hadleen °lithe same mind, and there he was safely housed. 'Graph,: umph !' says piggy, as lie turned and looked up at the black sky to windward; but. Toby did not offer to move. At last; the pig seemed to give it up, and took si turn nr two, as if he was making op his mind which was the warmest eurnor.— Presently lie trudges off to the lee scup- . pers, where the tin plate was lying tha t they ate their cold potatoes off. " Pig takes up the plate in his Mouth.; and carries it to a part of the deck where the dog could see it, but some way from : the kennel; then, .turning his tail toward the dog, lie begins to act as if he was eats ing out of the plate, making it rattle, and munching with his mouth pretty loud.—: 'What!' thinks Toby, 'has piggy got vic tuals there r and he pricked up his ears and looked out toward the place, making a little Whining. `Champ! chain p!' goes the pig, taking not the least notice of the dog; and down goes his mouth to the plate 41ga couldn'-t—stand—th a t - any' longer; victuals, and lie not there I Out lie runs, and conies up in front of the pig; with his mouth watering, and pushes bis cold nose into the empty plate. Like a shot, gentlemen, the pig turned tail, and was snug in the kennel before Toby well' knew whether there was any meat or not in the plate." ARTEMUS WARD ON TrtE The red wan of the forest was formly a very respectable person. Justice to thi) noble abooryginc warrants me in saying that orriggernelly he was a majestic cuss. At the time Chris. arrove on these? shores, (I allowed to Chris. Columbus,) the savajis was virtoos and happy. They were innocent of secession, rum, draw; poker, and sinfulness girr'rally. They' didn't discuss the slavery question as it custom. They had no Congress, faro; banks, delirium tremens or Asnociated- Press. Their habits was connequentll good Late suppers, dispepsy, gas company ics, thieves, ward politicians, and other' metropolitan refinements were unknown among them. No savage in good stated= big would take postage stamps--yott couldn't have bo't a coon skin with a bar rel of 'cm.— Vanity Emir. MARRIAGES IN FEUDAL TIMES.—The' law of England was not exactly similar to this, although sufficiently barbarous to deserve the execration of all who respect the privileges of woman. It was a lucra tive mode of extortion, even down to so far as the days of Charles 1., both with the crown and the inferior nobility, td sell their wards in marriage. This most barbarous custom gave to the lord of the manor the right of tendering a husband to his female wards, While under ages whom they could not reject without for , feiting as much as any one chose to offer the guardian for such an alliance. And the larger, the property of the ward, the larger was the value of the marriage'.— ,, Thus our fair readers will perceive that in those days pf chivalry and honor, of knightly feeling and romantic generosity, when lances were set in rest to uphold the beauty of an eyebrow or maintain the perfection of an ankle; when the Queen of Love and Beauty presided over the tournament held in honor of the ladies; in those chivalric times, they were bought' and sold like cattle, and men made blanke and prizes of them in the lottery of life, —Sixpenny Magazine. A CHAP out West named Barnes, who had made a speech at a war meeting, was criticised in the village paper, which said it was a very patriotic 4uldress, but dip _spealter slandered Lindley Murray awful ly. The neat day Barnes wrote a note to tbo editor, declaring he . never knew such a man in his life ae Lindley Murray, ' 'and therefore could not have slandered him. Mrs. Barnes, the Wife, being it tt icalarty, also-took up_the_eudgels forhef: husband,. when the matter was• discussed,.:... by declaring that—" Murray began it by abusing her husband, and got as good as he, gavel" • gm,,, The grave of a fraeman is far , grand er than the throne.of a elave. . - - NO 49.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers