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ADDRESS
TO TRH PATRONS OP "TUN
CARLISLE HERALD.
.3AIVIJARY 1, 1863
PnoLOGUE
"Let Milton cease to rhyme
Let Watts lie in his tomb,
Let Shakespeare stand behind the door,
To give this 'pole' room."--.M. GOOSE.
Come hearken now good rieople,
List to a man of letters,
We carriers of the weekly press,
. Acknowledge none our betters.
My, New Year's song,
I'll try,to sing,
1 have made my bow sirs,
And have told you I'm a man of note,
.."Cnd my name is GEO. L. GOUCHELL.
Jur currency is very bad,
I hope 'twill soon be better,
But people don't regard the law,
9r mind it to the letter.
For used up stamps,
There's no excuse,
Nor any such disasters,
Fur every town is flooded o'er,
With ragged, old shinplasters.
As when I last addressed you,
The war is going on,
We still try to whip the Rebels,
With efforts great and strong.
To Maryland
They came one day,
And Arrii6 ,— ,v6ut out to meet 'em,
And gave them a good lamming,
At a creek they call Antietam.
Our Governor, Andy Curtin,
Called out our soldier boys,
Ahd they went off to Hagerstown,
With lots of fuss and noise.
Like the King of France,
Was their advance,
With fifty thousand men,
They all marched into Maryland,
And then, marched back again.
They now are home among us,
These vet'rans strong and stout,
They have seeelhe smoke of powder,
And heard the battle shout,
To tell hard yarns,
Of war's alarms,
Does seem to quite delight them,
how Franklin county hens and ducks,
Had often tried to bite them.
There was the Anderson Cavalry,
:Men both brave and true,
Who were sent here, near the border,
To scare the rebecrew.
They did intend,
Us to defend,
From foes, in all directions,
But all that they accomplished was
To steal the girls' affections.
The troop was ordered off one day,
'Twas in a hard snow storm,
But each one had a comforter,
To keep his body warm.
The ladies fair,
In force were there,
They risked both cough and croup,
For to the cars they all must go,
Oh ! "Good-bye Anderson Troop."
And now my friends and patrons,
My story I've related,
I've told you all about the war,
The incidents' have stated,
And yet, forsooth
To tell the truth,
I'm not quite done my tale,
For when" I've said that I've 'nary red,
My luck you'll all bewail.
Then if you wish to warm my heart,
Jtist 4 M7en up your purses,
There's nothing like a little cash,
To atone for all reverses.
And then indeed,
I can say "-God speed,"
.To every one who greets me,
And shoPteer regret, that we have met,
On this Moro of '63.
pioreannualo.
THE E NEW-YEAR'S GIFT
•' I don't know what in the world will
please you, dear," said Mr. Hamlin to
his wife. "If I did, I'd go a great ways,
and spend a good deal of money, to get
the gift for this New Year's."
Mrs. Hamlin looked up, and smiled in
her husband's face. She knew that these
were not more words with hiin, spoken
in some after-dinner mood of physical
comfort and general self-complacency,
which overflowed on others in kind
speeches and promises] but never went
any further than that.
.On the contrary, Mr. Hamlin's deeds
alWays wont farther •thar; his words, and
his wife knew that he would go far, and
do much to bring her, as he said; some
gift to gladden her eyes and, rejoice her
heart on-this New Year's day.
"We have very much to be thankful
foi, - ,Geralcii" - Said the: lady, leaning for- .
Ward,.and resting her arm on her hils
band's knee. , She had a fine, kiiidly, in
telligent face-; not - examly - handeciarei - hut
-with some charin fnore attractive and per-
Oistent flan beauty.
• ~.„,- ~.,,,,
' ' '• -•-• 1P.„:,,
1: . -, _ .
.• _ •"
~ ~...., ,
...
. 41 ,-
, 01
. 1
irli T
... Is,_,_., Lc .,,,,
I
VOL. 63.
A. K. RHEEM, Editor & Proprietor
" So we have, Nary," and the gentle
man glanced throughthe long perspective
of his handsomely furnished rooms, on
which taste -and wealth combined had
layshed luxury and beauty. The car
pets soft as summer mosses, the walls
flushed with rare pictures, the glow of'
rose-wood, the gleam of marble, would
have feasted the testhetic sense ; but Mr.
Hamlin knew, and the thought was a
sharp and bitter one to him ; that the
chiefest beauty and grace had gone from
that stately dwelling, and that all its
wealth and luxury cc.uld not woo it back,
and that a shadow brooded heavy and
dark over his home.
It rested, too, on the sweet face of his
wife; that cold brooding shadow from
the grave ; for up in the nursery t,lvo lit
tle cribs, with curtains soft and light as
the new winter's first cakes of snow, were
silent and empty ; and the two pairs of
little pattering feet, that used to falter
with the sound of rain drops on the vel
vet carpets ; and two little faces, a boy
and a girl's, the one brave and eager, the
other sweet And tender, lay under the,
autumn grass, which the winds had
combed, and the rains had crushed, until
now there was no more life left in it, no
more than there was in the two small
marble figures laid uncler it, the figures
which a year ago had been so full of
warmth and glow, and motion ; and all
that we can call the grace of life
And so it was no wonder that Mrs.
Hamlin sat iu her stately home on the
new year, in her mourning dress, with
her-heart aching and-desolate Her husr.
band looked in her face. He knew well
she was trying to put on its look of good
cheer for his sake ; and he felt, too, that
the grief which lay under it was too deep
and solemn for any weeds which he could
summon to reach and solace. But his si
lence spoke his tender sympathy with it
all, and his wife understood it. At last
he spoke;
" Perhaps I shall come across some
thing that I think will strike you before
night, and I'll bring it . up' in that case,
Mary," stroking her hair with his hand.
" Bring yourself up, Gerald," smiled
the wife, tenderly. " That will be worth
a great deal more than any other gift; be.
sides I've outgrown my old girlish rap
tures over all sorts of pretty presents."
" But I like to bring thew just for the
old association's sake," answered the gen
tletuam, getting up and giving his wife
her good-mourning kiss.
- -That - nrornirwas - the - gentlem - atr'satin.
his office, at the back of his large ware
house he happened to be for a few Mo
ments alone. which was a very unusual
thing with him, for the small room was
usually invaded by head-clerks and under
clerks, salesmen, book-keepers, and busi
ness men outside, on all sorts of errands;
but this being a kind of holiday for the
city in general, and Mr. Hamlin's em
pluyees in particular, that gentleman
found the ordinary stream which flowed
into his office somewhat intermitted And
in the silence it seemed to him that he
caught a repressed sound, that was like a
low, grieved sobbing, not far away. The
gentleman sitting by the desk burled his
head on his hand al d listened sedulously.
Yes, there came the sound again; he
could not be mistaken now.
Somehow it touched the rich merchant
and troubled him. Perhaps on this day
his heart was unusually tender, for his
thoughts bad been much with the little
graves under ,the faded grass ; and it was
never a long way nor a cold one to the
heart of Gerald Hamlin. He opened the
office door softly, and went put in the di
rection whence the sound proceeded.
In a few moments he came suddenly
upon a small figure, seated on a high
stool in a dark corner of the warehouse
—a small figure, uith his head bowed
down on'the counter, and sobs shivering
it to and fro. The boy was so absorbed
in his own grief that he had not observed
the footsteps,, of the man, and the first in
timation which he bad of Mr. Ilandin's
presence was when a hand was laid softly
on his shoulder, and a kind voice asked,
" My little man, what is the matter with
you ?"
The child looked up—surprise, con
sternation, fear, all striving fur mastery
in his face, stained with tears. He tried
to speak, but the great sob in his throat
met the words and vanquished them, and
that was all the reply 114 r. Hamlin got.
The gentleman thought, as he looked
on the pitiful upturned face, that it was
not altogether a strange one to him, tho'
certainly not a very familiar one It was
a delicate, intelligent face, with little of
the robust look of a strong, healthful
childhood.
" L was thinking about my dead moth
er,and my little sister Ellen ," struggled
'out the boy.
a And how did you come here to think
about them ?"-questioned the plow keouly_
interested merchant.
I i)romised to be on hand for an hour
two, to see if the're were any errands
to do, sir!"
. ,
,
" Oh, 'that explains ; so yen ato errand
boy,'here. I ninit-have some across your
face ono° in a `while., . How long have
you been in theetorel" , ''. ' ' '
7 -I ,INo. lieen here u month; sir. .I. imam
. jo,E),t . two Weoke, after mother died."
• " Well;iny niiild . , come with me into
CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 9, 1863.
the office," and Mr. Hamlin' took hoid of
the small, thin hand, and
_led the hiving
boy into his warm, pleasant office.
He placed the boy, whose years could
not yet have run into a dozen, in a com
fortable armchair, and said some of those
kind, reassuring words to him which al
ways. comfort the heart of a child. And
then, when Mr. Hamlin saw that he had
somewhat won the boy's confidence, he
Went on questioning him in a kind, deli
cate way. until he had become passedsed
of the boy's story, which I must condense
for you here, my young readers.
This boy's.name was Edward Thayer;
his father had bedb dead almost four
years. flis'uither had struggled after
his death as a mother will, for her chil
dren's sake, to keep fuel and food for the
boy and girl that the father's stout arm
and brave heart could shelter no longer.
But her health, always delicate, had bro.
ken down at last ; they removed froni
one poor lodging to another, the last
lodging always being poorer and smaller
than the preceding one.
At last, Mrs Thayer was unable to sit
up, and the sole dependence of the family
was on the small sum that Edward could
earn by-the sale of his newspapers. Fi
nally—the sobs broke thick in the boy's
tale here—the poor emaciated young
mother died, receiving with her dying
breath a promise from her son that he
would always watch over and take care of
his little sister Ellen, so long as they both
should live.
The woman who rented the floor be
neath the 'ehatolier where--Mrs: Thayer
died, had been kind, and by the sale of
the scant furniture had defrayed the ex
penses of the funeral, reservinf , a few
chairs, an old table and shine crockery
for herself, and offering the little girl a
few weeks' board for this ; and her broth
er, who was one of the porters at Mr
Hamlin's warehouse, had -obtained the
situation of errand boy for Edward, at a
dollar and a half a week ; and the buy
was quite certain that his mother would
have approved of this change in his busi
ness, as it was much pleasanter than sel
bog newspapers out in the cold and rain,
and he had a fixed salary of a dollar and
a half a week.
But his little sister had now quite
hoarded out the remnant of her mother's
furniture, and the women who owned it
could not afford to keep her any longer
at less than a dollar a week, this being
the price he paid for his own board; and
so, the new year was opening for Edwarl
hiS little siSier,
wide world there was not a root to shelter
them ; and the heart of the boy was
breakingas he thought of—not of himself,
but of the tender, helpless little girl, who,
too young and weak to take care of her
self, would be thrust out into the cold,
pitiless world.
" Oh, sir, what will become of her—
my poor little sister ?" arid the child
closed his pathetic story with another
breals of sobs and tears
.)IY boy," answered the. merchant,
whose heart had been deeply touched,
'• your little sister shall not be thrust
homeless out into the cold world. I will
see to that "
" Oh, sir!" What a radiant glance of
surprise and gratitude beamed up from
that boy's face. He could not find any
words ; he did not need any after that
look !
The merchant was interrupted at this
moment by a gentleman, who detained
him on some business fur the next hall
hour; and when he was gone, Mr. Ham.
lin said to Edward—
" No, my boy, put your bat am
going to ;ee this little sister of y6urs."
They went.together, and Mr. Hamlin
took the HAIG boy's hand tanderly as a
father would have done, and the delight
ed child hurried the merchant through
Several brood thoroughfares into a narrow
back street, and to the door of a brown,
decayed dwelling, that looked as though
it had nine-tenths of a j tnind to give up
at once, and -turn. over,roof and all, into
the street; and this dwelling stood among
a good many others just as old and decay
ed, and possessed of- the BEII.IIO Indecision
respecting the further maintenance of their
equilibrium.
And Edward Thayeried the rich mer•
chant up a long flightof stairs, and open
ed the deer on the lunding, and there
among . half a dozen dirty. broad-faced,
staring, tow headed children, was a little
girl, with wide, wondering blue eyes, and
pretty, delicate features, and short, gold
en curls, astray about hr face; and this
was Ellen Thayer, looking like some sweet
lily, blossoming in that strange, uncen
genial atmosphere:
She came forwards When her brother
called her, and nestled up to his side, her
blue oyes growing.wider for wonder; but
in a little while, the gentleman's kind
face and voice won her to siLon his knee,
and play with his golden chain ;: and at
last, the child looked up in his face wita
her bright ; wistful one, 'which had only
seen half a dozen years.
said oho," you are just as kind
to rue as..manitua 'used to bo when .she.
was hero'
44 My little girl," and:involuntarily the
gentleman's arms•elosed about thrimmall
form, 4,t wontd yip. likTe "to. go, will): me, ,to, a.
lady—LA vary sweet, lalia; tonAer-hearted`
lady, who will lfo to, you what your own
kJ .1' •-•—g,- •II I ... •Vs I z • $. y . • to: yz:
mamma tised to be, and who lives in a
nice, warm, large, beautiful home, a long
ways from here ?P
The listening face brightened and
brightened with longing and eagerness.
".oh, I should like to go with you—
and Edward I" lisped the child, her shy-
ness all lost in wondering eagerness, and
she slipped softly from the gentleman's
knee, and laid her small hand in his large
one, and said wistfully—
" Can we go to see the beautiful lady
that is like mamma, now ?"
At that moment, the mistress of the
chamber entered. She was a coarse,
rough untidy woman, but not altogether
heartless, as her conduct towards the
orphan boy and girl had proved
The amazement and bewilderment of
thiswoman, when she encountered the
merchant surpasses description ; but afeiv
words' from Mr. Hamlin, explained all,
and quite satisfied her, and she prepared
Ellen fur her departure as well as the
child's wardrobe admitted, and followed
the three to the door, with loud and reit
erated thanks and blessings, after Mr.
Hamlin had bestowed on her a ten-dollar
note,which amply repaid her for the shel
ter which the orphans had found under
her not'.
,4 1ary, I've brought you a New Year's
gift that I think will please you," said
an hour later, as he entered
th 6 sitting room, leading by .the hand a
little, wondering, shy, sweet-faced child ;
and he reo.oved her bonnet and stroked
the short, golden curls
"-Why, Gerald, what do you mean •?'
asked the astonished lady, while th 3 book.
dropped from her hands to the floor.
. And then Mr. Hamlin told his wife,
briefly, the story which Edward Thayer
had told him, sitting in his office that
day, and the lady drank' in every word,
and before her husband had concluded,
her soft, brown eyes were lull of tears and
she had reached forward and taken the
the small hand• of Ellen Thayer in her
own white ones, and stroked them ten
derly, as a mother might have done.
And in conclusion, Mr. Hamlin said.
" I thought, Mary, that as the children
God ; gave us had tuft our home for their
home in heaven, you might take this lit
n their stA e d to you, rveotht.r-heart,
which has been so lonely and desolate."
And Mils. Hamlin's arms wrapped them
selves around the sweet child tightly, and
her' heart overflowed with warmth and
tenderness towards tbelittle girl, as she
said—
•""Poor little motherless - dayltsg - ! --- Oh;
Gerald ! it is the best New Year's gift
you could hive brought me!,
And afterwards, there was no more
cold nor loneliness—no more poverty nor
suffering for them ; for Mr. and Mrs
Hamlin surrounded with all loving care
the children of their adoption, Edward
and Ellen Thayer. —Peterson's Magazine.
"AB( UT THIBTv.v--:"Madam, at what
age shall I put you down ?"
No direct answer.
" How old is your husband?"
" Sixry one."
" And your oldest son ?"
" Twenty-five."
" Arid the next,"
" Twenty one."
" And how old do you call yourself?"
"I do not know my age exictly, but
it is about thirty ?"
" Did I understand you madam that
your oldest son was twenty-five ?"
" Yes "
" You must surely, then, be more than
thirty."
Well sir," (quick and snappingly,)
" 1 told you about thirty. I cant tell ex
actly; it may be thirty-one or two, but I'm
positive its not over that."
WELL KEPT 13urrEit —" In 1814,"
says the Journal do l' Aisne " a woman
of Cassey, being surprised by the Cos•
sacks, concealed a crock of fresh butter
which she did not want them to have in
a field near her Louse. After the depar
ture of the foreign visitors she endeavored
to find, the exact spot in which.the butter
was 'concealed, but did not succe , •d, and
after a while the whole matter was. for
gottea. Last week some workinen dig
ging the foundation of a.house came upon
the pot in question, and on'opening what
they expected to be a' treasure, discovered
the butter as white and firm as when bu
ried forty-eight years before. Since ex
posure to the air it has, however, acquired
an extremely rank taste."
A ROVING PAPER
The Memph s Appeal is a migratory Journal,
which follows or precedes the rebel army , in
the Southwest. It carries •its name with it
wherever it goes, and so comforts itself with
the fiction that Memphis - has not been taken
by the Union Miami. When the city was.find
captured, it moved to Grenade, from whibh
'owe it uttered treason and , fury against the -
United States The other day When 'General,
Hoover wait approaching Grenada, the editor_
hurridly paoked'up his effecis and evaeuated
This time-ho determined - to - get - atl far out of
reaches possible, and the Memphis Appeal is
hereafter to be published at 'Marietta. Georgia.
about' three hundred and fifty miles front
Memphis. :pis placto is chosen partly lie,'
cause there is a paper mill thero,..and.l,i'lly:
because It is rigoed distant.° from any thrash:
ening Union army. When the editor mores
nest, The . heart , of therebellion, will. be.
reached -lot 'Us hope the - day is
.'net,' • far'
distant.
ngt,A. pail of milk (dela drinks ai
much water as a cow.
This thing called newspaper patronage
is a curious thing. It is composed of as
many colors as a rainbow, and is as
changeable as a cbamelon.
One man subscribes for a newspaper
and pays for it in advance; he goes home
and reads it with the proud satisfaction
that it is his own. lie hands in an ad
vertisement, asks the price and pays for
it. This is newspaper patronage.
Another man says please to put my
name on your list of subscribers; and he
goes off without as much as having said
pay once. Time passes, your patience is
exhausted and you dun him. Hp flies in
a passion, perhaps pays, perhaps not.
Another man has been a subscriber a
long time. He becomes tired of you and
wants a change. Thinks he wants a city
paper. Tells the postmaster to discon
tinue, and one of his papers is returned
to you marked " refused." Paying up
for it is among the last of his thoughts;
besides he wants his money to send to a
city publisher.
After a time you look over his account,
and see a bill.of balance due." But
But does he pay for it cheerfully and
freely? We leave him to answer. This,
too, is newspaper patronage.
Another man lives near you—never
took your paper—it is too small—don't
like the editor—don't like the politics—
too Whiggish, or too something else—
yet goes regularly to his neighbor and
reads his by a good fire—finds fault with
its contents, disputes its positions, and
quiirrek with its type. Occasionally sees
an article he likes—gives half a dime and
begs a number. This, too, is newspaper
patronage.
Another sports a fine horse, or perhaps
a pair of them—is always seen with a
whip in hand and spur on foot—single
man —no use for him to take a newspa
per—knows enough Finally ho con
cludes to get married—does so—sends a
notice of the fact with a "please publish
and send we half a dozen copies." This
done, does he over pay for notice or pa
pers ? No " but surely you'don't charge
for such things !" This, too, is newspa
per patronage
Another than (bless you it does us good
to- see such a wan) cower and naye, the
year far which I paid is about to expire,
and I want to pay for another. He does
so, and retires.
Reader! isn't newspaper patronage a
curious thing,? And in that great day
when honest men get, the reward due to
th`ei'r 'Honesty, - WHEW say — you of"tliose
enumerated above, will obtain that re
ward ? Now it will he seen that, while
certain kind of patronage are the very
life and 'existence' of a newspaper, there
are certain other kinds that will kill a
paper stone dead.
A Pack of Cards both Bible and
Almanac. ,
Richard Milton, a soldier, spreading a
pack of cards betbre him in a church, and
refusing to put them away, the sergeant
carried him before the mayor, who asked
him what ho had to say in excuse for his
indecent behavior.
Please your worship, be made reply,
they are my Bible.
A one, rewinds me that- there is but
one God.
A two, of the Father and Son.
A three, of the Father, Sun and Holy
Ghost.
A four, of the four Evangelists.
A five, of the fivo wise virgins who
wore ordered to burn their lamps.
A six, that in siz days God created
Hu ;yen and Earth.
A seven, that on the seventh day he
rested from his labor.
An eight, of eight righteous persons
saved from the deluge—Noah, his wife,
three eons and three daughters.
A nine, of the ungrateful lepers, clean
sed by our Saviour—there were ten, but
only one offered his tribute of thanks.
A ten, of the Ten Commandments
The queen reminds me of the queen of
Sheba, who came from the uttermost parts
of the earth to listen to the wisdom of
Solomon, as her companion,, the king,
does of the great King of Heaven and, of
kings.
You have answered all except the
knave; what is he ?"
The knave I should say, is the sergeant
who brought me before you.
For my almanac, I find.
Fifty-two cards in a paok, for-fifty-two
weeks in a year.
Thirteen curds in each suit, for thirteen
lunar months in a year.
Twelve count cards, for the twelve cal
ender months.
Four suits of cards for- the four sea
sons.
A ORIEEN SENTINEL.--A drafted man
on guard at Camp Howe, recently, bailed
Colonel Stockton as he was passing thus
" Say, here,. who the—are you ?"
Colonel s—" I believe I'm colonel of a
regiment."
"'The-----you are; colonel, give us a
chew of tobacco." '
.After; gettini a supply of .the weed he:
he stuck his musket in tho
,iround and
,very coMplaeoutlyremarked , : ,f 4 It's rath
er weou
sit down iwililortia WOut to his gust.'
too.
Tait
NO, 1.
Newspaper Patronage
Twe Moon %Mgt? *HE Waaritits,.=Mr. PIA
Harrison, , Thim a Study of the titaimometrio
observations, at Greenwich, finds that there
is a tolerably constant Increase
,of temperature
from the new moon to full, and a decrease
from the full moon to the first quarter, Be
also finds that the maximum of rain or cloudy
days corresponds with the first calf of the
lunar period, and the maximuin of fine. olear
days with the last half. Be explains the!aot
by the dispersing action of the full moon up
on the clouds. The dispersing action is in
turn accounted for by Sir John Hersohell
thus; The heat rays of the moon are almost
inappreciable even to the most delicate in
struments. Mellani found that the index of
an extremely sensitive thermo•eleotrio pile
scarcely moved when a moonbeam was con
centrated on it by a lens so powerful that a
sunbeam thus converged would have burned
platinum into vapor. The heat rays sent
from the moon, therefore, must be Intercepted
and absorbed by our atmosphere. Being thus
concentated in the upper strata of the atmos
phere, the heat necessarily warms that region,
and thus dissipates the clouds and hinders
their formation, The full moon will, therefore,
clear the sky, and by so doing will lower the
temperature of the earth, for clouds not as a
blanket to the earth keeping its heat from
radiating into space. The new moon, de
prived for some time of the sun's heat, is
incapable of exercising a similar influence,
and the rainy or cloudy days are, therefore,
more frequent during the first half of the lunar
period. Leverrier accepts this hypothesis of
Hersobell, but it has been combatted by other
astronomers, and must still be considered sub
judsce.
le_ The following is said to have pass
ed in a school down east
" What is the most northern town in
the United States ?"
" The North Pole."
" Who is it inhabited by ?"
. " By the Poles sir."
" That's right. Now whath the mean
ing of the word stoop ?
" I don't know sir."
" What do I do when I bend over
thus
" You scratch your shins, sir."
" What's the moaning of the word
carve ?"
" I don't know si."
" What does your father do when be
sits down to the table?"
" lie axes for the brandy bottle ' '
" I don't mean that. Well, then, what
does your mother do when you sit down
to the table ?"
" She says she will wring our necks if
we spill any greaue on the floor."
IT PAYS TO TAKE THE PAPEHA.-A
capital story is told of an old farmer in
the northern part of this county who had
been •'saving up" to take up a mortgage
of 52,000 held against him by a man near
the seashore. The farmer had saved up
all the money in gold, being afraid to
trust the banks in the.•o war times. Week
before last, he lutrged down his gold and
paid it over, when the following coloquy
ensued.
" Why, you don't mean to give this
$2,000 in gold, do you ?" said the lender.
• " Yes, certainly," said the faimer, " I
was afraid of the pesky banks, and so
I've been saving up the money, in yellow
boys for this long time."
" All right," responded the lender,
" only I thought you didn't take the pa
pers, that's all !"
Take the tapers ! No sir, not I.—
They — lniii - e — gone on so since the wars
been agoing that. I won't have one of the
d—fish things about. But the money is
all right, isn't it ?"
" Yes, all right, $2OOO in gold. All
right, here's your note and mortglge."
And well might he have called it all
right, as the premium on gold that day
was 30 per. cent, and his gold was not
only worth the face of his bond, but
$OOO besides, enough to have paid for
his village newspaper for himself and
posterity for at least centuries. It pays
to take the papers.—Norwalk Gazette.
Atonic) CLIARACCER.S.—Strength of
charactre consists in two things—power of
will and power of sell restraint. It re
quires Lathings, therefore, for its exist
ence strong feelings and strong command
them. Now it is here NV( have a great over
mistake; we mistake strong feelings for
strong character. A man who bears all
before him, before whose frown domestics
tremble, and whose bursts of fury make
the children of the household quake be
cause be has his will obeyed, and his own
way in all thine , We call him a strong
wan. The truth is ; that this maths weak,
it is his passions that are. strong; hei
mastered by them, is weak You must
measure the strength of man by the pow-
er of the feelings he subdues, not by the
power of those which subdue him. And
hence composure is very often the highest
result of strength.
Did you ever see a man receiving a
flagrant insult, and only grow a little pale,
and then reply quietly ? That is a man
spiritually strong. Or did we never sees
man in anguish stand, as if carved out of
solid rock, mastering himself? Or one
bearing a hopeless daily trial.remain
and never tell the world what pankered
his home peace ? That is strength. Or
who, with strong passions, remained
chaste : he who; keenly sensitive, with
manly powers of indignation in him, ono
be provoked and yet retain himself and
forgive—there are the strong men, th'e
spiritual heroes.—Rev. I'. W Robertson.
To CURE A FILM IN THE EYE OF A
Floase.--Take the white vitriol and rook
alum one part—pulverise finely, and add
clear spring water. - IV ith finely pointed
camel's hair pencil or soft feather, insert
a single drop of this, solution into the
diseased eye every night-and—morning,
and in a week the film. usually, iliaspears . ;
,and the eye becomes bright, sound and
healthy. In some cases, pulverized loaf.
sugar blown into the , eye through quill,
will proven reap d Poiy.dered
should nererb4oo,d iwatioh oases, al.
though recomtneitited ' , by some; salt" iti , '-
, muc h . ume.likely to, produce injurious ,
eff cts Op cure tbero A' Farmer.
, a
..troritnais like' von) that eau only
be used in the present tense.