Aeterted
From the N. Y. Tribune.
Treason's Last Device.
" Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate. • • • • •
You common cry of cure, whose breath I loathe
As rook o' tho rotten Eons.
" liark I htirkl the dogs do bark
Sons of Now—England, In the fray,
Do you hoar the clamor behind your bark?
Do you hero the yelping of Blanche, and Tray,
Sweetheartond all the mongrel pack ?
Girded well with her ocean crags,
Little our mother heeds their noise;
Her eyes aro fixed on crimsoned lags;
But you—do you hear it, Yankee boys?
Do you hear them say that the patriot tiro
Burns on her altars too pure and bright,
To the darken'd heavens looping higher,
The' droueh'd with the blood of every tight ;
That in the light of its searching lame
Treason and tyrants stand reveal'd.
And the yielding' craven is put to shame,
On Capitol floor or foughten field t
Do you hear the hissing voice, which salth
That sho—who bore thro' all the land
The lyre of Freedom, the torch of Faith,
And young Invention's mystic a and—
Should gather her skirts and dwell sport,
With not one of her Aster.: to sho,o her Cite
A Hager, wandering sick at heart:
A Pariah, bearing the Natien'a hate
Sons,•who have peopled the gorgeous West,
And planted the' Pilgrim vine nneiv,
Where, by a richer viii CArrSt,
It grows as ever its parourgrew,
Say, do you hear —while the very bells
Of your churches . ring with her ancient I nice,
And the song of your childi en s w eetly tolls
How true was the laud of your fathers' choice
Po you belt' the trultorrwho bid you speak
w nd Ova 'drill sever the hA,VIi Liu?
And ye, who dwell by the golden Peak,
Iles the subtle whisper gibled by?
Ilas it Cr 'Mt the imminnol ill !Adios,
To co istA, where the gray,Pdellie
And tho blood in the pooplo s velne
to pure as Cho woolth of their now.ltalil
Spirits of sons who, side by side,
In a huntlnni batt,los fnuglit, anti foil
Whom now no East and IVfmq, divide,
In the isles where the shades of heroes distil
Bay hits, It roaell'd Sour giori,m: re,t,
And ruffled the calm which crowns, you there—
Thu gh:tino, that nterrAnts havo
The pled, that Ihette in the trathled ;tit-
Bons of Now•Euglantl. hero and there ;
Wherever inen are still 11,4,1114 i by
The honor our Whims !vit so fail
Say, do you hoar the cowards cry'
Crouching amougst her grand old crags,
Lightly our moth, r hoods totuoiso,
With her fund eyes fixed ou distant flags;
But you—do you hear it Yankee boys ?
Washington, Jan. 10, 1863
THE £1;000 NOTE
Mr. Douglas was in business. Not so
far from the Bank as is Snowdon's Himtnit
from its base was Mr. Douglas's establish
ment, which he contemplated with great sat
isfaction—as, indeed, he well might, for the
windows displayed an amount. of jewelry and
costly articles •' unequalled" as might be
learned from the covers of contemporary m mg
azines) "by any house in the world '—'• na
the world, sir !" would Mr. Douglas say to
his acquaintances, putting the expressive news
in large capitals.
Mr. Douglas had risen from the ranks to
his present positions and it was his wont tat
boast he had never made a hal debt, or was
" done.!-' ..I Once. remarked, in . his., hear
ing, that to get the best of film one must rise
very early in the morning. Whereupon Mr.
Douglas said, "They mustn't go to bed at all,
sir ; and then they couldn't do it I"
We have shown sufficient of Mr. Douglas
for the purpose'of the present narrative.--
He was but the type of hundreds of shrewd
tradesmen. It was noon : he was in his
counting house, and the broad thoroughfare
was thronged with equipages, one of which
drew up before his door, and_a
gentleman in undress naval uniform alighted
from the carriage and walked into the shop.
Mr. Douglas looked over the curtain of his
counting house window, and, being too late to
see his customer, he fell to examining his ve
hicle, by which, not less than the man, he cal
culated the quality, and weighed in his mind
the necessity of personal attendance. After
a careful survey he returned from the win
dow, laid down the pen he had been writing
with saying thewhile to himself, " Plain—cer
tainly plain ; but it has the ai r about it " And,
repeating this observation, lie passed into
the shop, where his customer, a good looking
man, but extremely staid and delicate fur a
sea captain, was awaiting him; but this del
icacy became quite natural as the_ result of
recent injuries and consequent, ill-Le,tlt h,
from which lie was evidently still suffering,
as his right arm was iu a sling.
" Good morning, sir," said the bland
tradesman ; pray be seated. What can I
show you sir ?"
" I have injured my watch, and some gen
tlemen present when it fell, recommend. d we
to you both for promptness and efficiency,"
said tae gentleman in uniform, taking from
the chain at his breast a gold repeater.—
'' Indeed, sir, I am sure sir they did me great
honor ; but we do please, sir—we study to do
it, and we succeed. Returned from the
Crimea recently, sir?"
" Not very; but this is the first time I have
been out, in consequence of my wounds,"
.said the captain—for such ho appeared to he
—seating himself.
"External injuries," said the obsequious
Douglas, bowing, while ho examined. the
watch.
" Yes," said his customer.
“External anti - internal also."
" Why, yes," again ejaculated the captain,
rather surprised at the interest taken in hit
wounds,
4 , Indeed, vre,.might say the vital chord is
severed.
"Not quite ao bad as that, I hope !" was
the rogroonsfi;7odompa nied by a feeble smile.
Quite,. , eli;llatigure you, quite. We can
get no motion—nope whatever."
And ho gave the watch a twist.
" Oh, the Watch—ah, to be sure," said the
relieved but much mistaken captain.
" Yes, allow me to hope your injuries are
not of so serious a nature. This shall be at
tended to during the week, sir. And now,
May I make bold to inquire who of my friends
were — kihd - enough to say_ a good word for me?
Lyons ? Dundas?"
"Well, yes, certainly they, were present ;
bid it was Captain Berry more particularly."
" Ah, my friend Captain Berry„ to he still
Df the Achilles,' and has he escaped unhurt?"
said the shopkeeper, whom the reader will
perceive to have a becoming love for great
MOIL •
" He'struo to his old boards, and 'grid his
usual luok--much glory and but little data:
ger ?" said the captain, evidently chagrined
at Berry's superior fortune, and rising to go.
" Can I do nothing more for you to day'?"
"Why, being about to retire, I do want a
little plate; but another Limo--"
[Curiolan uc
[Nursery R hymo
.I.IIIIUND U. S'EEUNIAN
VOL. 63.
A. K. RHEEM, Editor & Proprietor
"No time like - the ptiesent: allow me to
show you some;" and the courteous Douglas
led the way into the show room, where be
was more than ever convinced of his oust°
toer's genu:no gentility, by the costly selec
lons Ii Made, find the evidently superior
taste and judgement which allowed him to ad
mire articles lie was not ashamed to confess
lie could not afford to buy. "It is, indeed
elegant:" said he, changing his position to
examine a silver ewer front all sides—" very."
.. Allow me to set it down : the price is
low, extremely low for the quality and work
manship. There has been but one of the
pattern sold yet., and that to Lord A—, so
universally known as a patron of art."
'.Thank you, no: my circumstances would
not justify it. I have already purchased
more than I intended. Make them into a
parcel that will do for the rail "
What name, sir? awl will you onll and
allix the address?"
'• Yes— Douglas," said the naval gentle
man.
" Douglas?" repeated the silversmith.
" YeN, sir, a namesake. I remember, when
Berry told me I should recollect whom I
wanted by that coincidence. Dundas said I
ought to sulip• - irt the family name."
•' Ile might have sail family without the
name. There never was hut one faintly of
the Donglases, though that is scattered now
ithrough nil the known world, 2111.1 every coon
ly of England has its branch, Mav I ask to
which you belong, Copt. Douglas?"
"My family are of Derby," was the reply
of the naval gentleman • who was rvi :catty
pleased with the shop Iftceper's
":Ih' they may be found everywhere; hut
they are it'll descended thrill the Scotch
•• Oh, Scottish, cc: tainly, and I am proud
to hear the illustrious WA "
" I do not •lotibt you will ad 1 glor:,• nn l
honor to it : the Douglases were ever bravo. -
'Call you give me the invoice of my pill'.
(211,150 ?" asked the captain, not liking the tub
somc compliment.
" Directly, sir," said the jeweler, and con
ducting his customer to a private room be
hind the shop, he Went to give the necessary
orders.
Meanwhile the naval Douglas helped him
self to sherry front a decanter on the table,
and taking up the newspaper lulled hack on
the ottoman comfortably.
•• Would you like them to go to night?"
asked the silversmith, press nting the hill
" I think not ; they will ho safer here till
we go down to Derby, which wiil hr very
shortly, for London ilocsn't se,•rcie with me
In the 111123:1t1111, a 1:'1011 1, ticlrn iv ak , ent In
the north, hoc placed 1,1 , est til t hment at my
lisp >sal," said the copt.tin, t tking up the
1011, and then iii•ottninag, " one Ili t and two
hundred and fifty Di , eirunt for reit le cash?'
"Yes, sir," said the shiipkorpir descend
ant of the Douglas, ••certamly."
"Oblige.me with materials for writing. I
roust, send to my wife ; l ',ever c to imrry
notes of value with me; said the time Ircorg
las, preparing to rvcite w•in tau loft 1.au , l
ltu er eoverari v , titt:Lttenir:!s he threw down
the pea in ili , girst.
k war I :., "
" 1 ou may say that," sat I the stiyei smith
customer
. i tha i aked him _fur
the kiwd admi , sion, then sai I alo u d :
"Just write for rue. Though my servant
is as trusty us any in England, I t hink it a
shame to throw temptation in his way."
"Just so."
" And, by the way, where do you dine to
day ? Come, you are a new foun 1 rela•ive :
say-you'll come with ine ; do now."
"Well, I thank you for your frankne,s:
and, not to be behind-baud in courtesy, I
will."
Dune like a Douglas," said the captain
now fur the note."
an 1
The 8 ilversnuth took up the pen. " Will
you dictate
Thus he dictated, while the unsuspecting
" wide-awake . ' Douglas. wrote :
" Dr. 11t. Wier have foe id a new rela
tion, t e will dine with us to day. And I
have made a rather large purchase of plate.
You will bud a roll of notes in my desk ; send
me one thousand pounds by bearer, who has
the key. Yours,
And then taking, nut a itnitrit of keys hose
leeted one, and (lisp:ached the servant, bid
ding him to drive tiniokly, and lose no time in
returning to hint there. The two Douglases
then returned, and talked an I drank a buttle
of wine very :Lillie:Oily together.
see Berry is promoted," said the cap
tain, taking up the plirwr
" lie deserve 4 to bo," was (Ili' reply.
"That lie does. What an audacious fraud
on the hank, that."
"Terrible!" I am sure nobody knows
when they inay trust a servant."
Indeed they don't. Did you ever suffer?"
"I have been very fortunate," said the
shopkeeper, with a complacent
"Ahl shrewdness is the Scottish character
istic, and the English would do well to copy,
rather than slicer at it."
" I have often said so, and felt grateful ; for
it has saved me more than once from the
Philietinpt "
"Really you cannot depend upon servants
oven for a trilling errand ; how long Green
has gone to be cure," said the captain.
",Why, yes, he is ti' long time ; but perhaps
Mrs. Douglas herself was absent, or twenty
things might detain him."
"0 yes, certainly: bttf r think I'll walk out
to meet him, while you &Ash business, ready
to accompany me. So au revoir. Ile can't
be far away now," said the naval gentleman,
while the silversmith bowed him out, and then
returning, ho added, in the hearing of the
shopkeeper, "You might get those goods
packed; I may send for them to-night."
"'They will be ready, sir," was the reply ;
and the feeble captain limped slowly down the
street, where he was presently joined by an
inferior officer of his ship, with whom he held
an earnest conversation, that resulted in their
calling a cab and driving rapidly to an obscure
street.
Mr. Douglas has finished his business, had
given the final orders for the night, and
"freshened himself up,. to use his own phrase,
ready to dine ; and, it being past his usual
hour, he was impatient for the stranger's
return; but another hour dew by without his
ro appearance, and thinking it possible ho
might, have been detained by unexpected
circumstances, he determiund to go hOtne, and,
as he rode along, it was comforting:assurance
that ho had left the goodA at the shop; that
WWI a sou roe of groat satiscactio-o to him, but
ho now mu wj eri ly r,,04,:0t0d that ho had 110 t
fOrbiti,loll ih dr boittg lakt•ll.RWay, and th a t
his fOr,ooati hoard the pot 0 final order,
ho re[urn: ;t wauhl utak° assurantoo
.10414 at.r e, tlll.l yet he could not doubt. the
honesty of his customer, or the correctness of
-his-own est.imate of that gentlematOs character,
and while he mused on these things he was
drawing near to home, whore he determined to
go, have anearty dinner, and return to the
shop. It must be all right, lie said. and yet
he was far from easy about the matter. It
was not late, the city dines so early, and he
might get back and find his newly-found rel•
alive waling for him at the shop. This math
er re-assured him, and he ascended the stairs
into the dining-room and his wife's l resence,
tuler;thly good humored and well c.m.vnie,l
with the day's business But it s i ha r poned,
for nartin Witt , reasons, Mrs I) ityl,lns wanted
to dine curly that day, and here 110,9 all hour
later than usual, and she consequently out of
temper. They ate in silence; but, as the
dinner drew to a close, Mrs. Douglas thawed
a little.
To what!"
" To purchase a..l.l.)usfind pounds worth of
plate."
"Good (lod, wife!" he shrieked, rather that
s lid, and, like a madman, the shrewd, 'wile
awoke' Douglas raved a.hout, the room—the
light had hi/I.'3c upon him in a moment, 1111.1
11 11 1.)vpi • wheline , i hilt). Ills wilt:lett M 1.11001113
aghwit; un•ihle to g110.,1 tic 1110111111Ig his
strmige belta,vior.
'• You g•tve it t hint?•'
ihe tholll3lll poun , ls —l,ero I your
nolt , , orl,l here t!lc key of your .ic+lt,'• bait 111,1
ile,
" It isn't !nine." cried he, putting out a
bunch to compare them. Alas ! they Are alike,
though. lam tuined forerso! '
It Nial a long time hot Yre he Wl9 Ruflicient
ly calm to explain, and ere he had 111.4 done
so, the last words of the departing. eLH am,
spoken in the toretnan's hearif.g, recurred to
!11:11 riithed omit of the house
baelt to toe shop; but ! t % . '61.9 too lot But few
minutes elapse I bet w oeti ht leaving tha shop
;.ttid the removal of the hamper in it u ariage
with the One armed sea captain, who had
doubtless w celie I his departure. All efforts
to trace the nautical Douglas proved fruitless.
Nor could any clue bo attained t.t his myste
rious p osession of the key, or knowledge that
the notes which were 0111 in the desk one day,
and wmild have been m the bank the next,
were in the keeping of Mrs. 1/migl.ts. Thus
in out'lily was the to in, NV4O V;Luillo4 his
shrowlue , s, "d me" out of ono thousa.ml'
pounds and an equivalent in plate. 11. — nen he
next hears it satd that, a man must rise early
to g,u the hest of urn, wo 'if he will
reply as bef,,te, (It it H.t` (1111 . 0. I. , 1 g) is bed
at :ill, and then ent'el not bedmie." Neither
will ha eltitu so elose a eel tiionship ton eliamce
Luis:outer oearing the illuMtrious name of Doug
las.
11 hat a clear cold day it wiis ! the earth all
%trapped in white, sparkling ,•now —the frozeu
liver gleracing iu i tic dt itance like It. rii/b9ll
or steel ! llow the Will 1 shank the deilat
-11171- .Ir.t,iping over the strained gins-, base
ments or 'Air. Ark w lihrary —but it
eioll I g un 11 , earl ut, e i t the pleasant TO Ulll,
IVI . III itv C1'1111:+9:1 , ! S411:4 rtijiy .... yelyet, ear,
pet, and polished grate, heaped high with
glowing anthracite :
• Tap, Tap!' came sonly to the dour, and
Mr. Awkwright lucked up from his book.
.It's only me, sir ! I called to see if Miss
Ariel would like to drive down to the river
and look at the -Lavers this afternoon :'
•I. at h o ui : repeated Mr. Arkwright,
gmd hunioreilly.- Why, she's one ut the per
formers, instead of being a spectator ! She
wen , down an hour ago, with Tom Havens!
• Toni Havens*
Nlr Felix F,theri , ee's s‘hiskered underjqw
dropped—he fingered nervously ut his eye
glus4.
Why yes—'l'out's rather handy on a pair
of skates, and he's been teaching tny dau:h
ter. glad you are here, Felt x, ,Lulled Mr
Awkwright, ' for to tell the truth, 1 don't
exactly Ilse Ariel to he so touch with Mr
Havens. Not but what he's a tine fellow,
but then you kn:tiv he depends solely on his
profession, ittol (Eh, well you understand all
these Fatherbee !'
" I) 1),,i
' Cert.iiuly, sir,' sail Felix the perfumed.
' I NC suspected this loug that
you were it little iuterestod in
'1 a.lure her, sir,' sai4 Felix eneig,ette.tlly.
' chett ult to the river Willi you, tioicker
thatt a Flash, my buy! Of course yuu eau
skater
0, yes, sir —Oa is, I've ;lever tried, but
it•s e,sy euiiu4ll.
Arlovii k tlit raised his brows rat her
doubtfully, but Felix 111.1 dnsappe.trcl. Tut.;
i lea ot Ariel Arkwtrightliii skating with Tow
Havens drove hint wild.
* .*
There they were, in the cent re of the merry
multitude of :katers! Felix xecoguited them
with a vengeful pang as he rieramided dJwii
the slippery bank—Tom Havens' fur cap and
straight active figure—Ariel Arkwtigt..t's gul
den, floating curls and brilliant color!
' Hanged if I don't have some of this fun I'
nintkered Felix. ' Hallo, Dormer I do you
know where a fellow can raise a pair of
skates?'
You may take mine, if you choose,'
groaned the young man addressed, who was
limping towards .1110 shore„rubbing his abra
ded elbows.
• I'm very much obliged to you.'
'Oh, not at all l' said Mr. Dormer, think
ing within himself thni Felix Fctlierbee would
not bo very much obliged after he became ac
quainted with the slippery nature-of ice.
Fetherbee hailed Havens, in a
clear, loud voice, as he shot up to the shore,
hand in hand with that dimpled, panting, ra
diant link Ariel t Are you going to join
us ?'
• Vas,' ssid Felix, importantly jerking his
straps; Mr. Ark wright requested the to conte
down and take &largo of Miss Ariel?'
'rake charge cf me!' ejaculated the young
Lady, whilo Tom opened his black eyes wide,
11141005.1 it, isn't mettessary, -L MiSh
trouble you, - Mr. Fedierhim!'
No trouble at all What does make these
things so shaky!'
' It's because you have not screwed !hem
on. Shall I assist you ?'
But Feliff scornfully rejected the friendly
overtures of his rival.
• You'd tauter just take hoILI of my hand—
-1 ant afraid you are new to skates P persisted
Tout, 33 Felix rose totteringly to his feet..
'No, 1 thank you,' shad Felix, clutching at
the slit,;.e as those o.e:wherein; ttteel runners
AvEilke , l clh theni34tlves, ittliirr2; his feet with
them nil Ittri.lint4 the rest of ititu ou the ice
with at: uliplettottur shock
113) t
CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 1863,
How came you to buy to day Y" she ask
:cm
Skating into Matrimony
ona in .
"Oh, dear!' said Ariel demurely. lam
afraid you're hurt!'
'Pray let me help you up,' sail Tom.
a —I) t—h t!' gasped Felix,
spasmodically rubbing the back of his head,
as Havens sot him skilfully on his feet.
•Now you're all right. !' encouraged Tom.
'hallo ! there you go again ! You are in too
great a hurry Mr. Fetherbee !'
It isn't me!' gasped Felix, hanging to a pine
branch in abject terror, 'it's these confounded
slippery skates. It may be great fun, but I
must confess f don't see it !'
'Oh, you'll alter your mind soon!' said Tom.
'Just sea how simple it is.'
Away he glided in marvellous curves and
angles and came up again, with aparkliug
eyes and flushed cheeks
'Ariel ! shall we try it again '!'
'.Excuse' we sir,' said Felix, loftily. 'Mr.
Ark wright wished that I should skate with
Ariel!'
'AY - She don't purpose skating on the palms
of her hauls or on her head, I don't sal that
your plan is practicable.' said TOM, provok
ingly 38 he and Ariel vanished.
• Hang - 4 hese skates !' said Felix , "they won't
stand sill!! Well if Torn !livens cart sew!
ah ut in that fashion, I don't see why I onu't!
!lore goes!'
And Felix, rashly de.9perat., .struck out' a 9
he had seen Harm - 191u. Alfl9 : for our hero
cohti let,t, he came t- grief, with his
nose prone aghast the ,03.
It icin't agrep-thle for any young man to
have the damsel of Ilk a (oration behold him
in a ei , ,ting pomtnre on thu i(141, Iltaring:llope
-10.-dy around wilh his hat. kno , :ked in, and
his coot aloeves I,a I . ly tern. No Feaerbeo felt
as A riel 51161 by him leaning on Tom Havens'
arm art I oailinz utit :
•Toll p i II hp homp hpfore (lark '
'Miss Arkvrright !' ho 'Nike Ark
No an4wor—sl.e was gone !
Could he nut have seeti her, dashing over
th.t tee , stil on Tutu Havens' protecting arm,
p-st the solemn One thickets —under the
shadows of still promontories—miles flying
pit like inches ! Could he have heard Tom's
whisper :
'Courage, : love! We are almost there!'
Tlere - -but we anticipate!
Sunset, -glowed readly across" the scene, as
Felt x crawled stiff and sore up the bank,
my head! my bones!' he groaned.
'Take your skates, Dormer! I shan't bor•
row 'em again, you may depend!'
‘Well, where s Ariel?' said Mr. Arkwright,
as Felix stumbled into the library.
'I don't know, sir; but one thing I do know.
The extent of Felherbett's knowledge re
mained a mystery, for at the same moment
another 'door opened, and Ariel tripped iu, all
blushing, followed by Tan the audacious.
'Papa! you will forgive toe. I know '
`There's no help for ii now!' added Tom
'Eh!' ejaculated Mr. Arkwrig,ht..
'Papa! l'ai married to Toni Wo skated
down , o the minstor'ii— and—
Ph theie came a shower of tears—then
kisses—and ultimately a freo pardon, of,
course
And not until thin NULZ,E , of affairs
was reac} u di I they remark the absence of
Mr. Fetherbee.
It - ;./aa htiiveYef—sinoe Tem tifid
\riel ha,l4;ated into matrimony his little com
edy was played out !
WANT OF COURAGE
Sidney SMith, in his work of moral philos•
ophy, 'peaks in this wise of what men lose
for the want of a little brass, as it is termed:
A great deal of talent is lost to the world
for the want of a little courage. Every day
semis to their graves a number of obscure
men, who have only remained in obscurity
because their timidity has prevented them
from making a first effort, and who, if they
could only have been induced to begin, would,
in all probability, have gone groat lengths in
the career of fame The fact is, that in order
Ledo anything in this world worth doing, we
must not stand shivering on tho bank, and
thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in
and scramble through as well as we can. It
will nut do to be perpetually calculating risks
and tuijoqtimz mire chances ; tt did all very
w bk,f.,r, the, flood, when a man could con
cult his Ii cuts upon au intende 11wldicati,.0
fir a hun.lre I and fifty years, and then to
live to see its success for six or seven man
;lt'tvrw,,e.L.,; hut at present a man waits,
awl duuf,t t, an,l cum. alts his brother, and his
aisle, end his first cousin, an I his particular
friendr, till one, fine day he finds that Ito is
silly Live years of age ; that he has lost much
time in consulting first cousins and particu
lar friends; that he has no time left to fol
low their a lvice. There is so little time fur
otter egthimaisliness at present, that the op.
portunity slips away. The very period of
life at which a man chooses to venture, if ev
er, itt so confined, that it is no bad rule to
preach up the necessity, in such instances, of
a little violence done to the feelings, and of
elf aqs made in defiance of strict and sober
calculation."
Romm , ine LovE ScENE.—"lis past the
hour of midnight. The golden god of
day, who yesterday drove his emblazoned
chariot through the heavens, has ceased
shining on the earth, and a black pall
reigns over the lower section of our city.
Nothing is heard save the distant step of
the melancholy bill poster as ho pursues
his homeward way 1 Suddenly a sound
breaks the stillness—it is the voice of
Frederick William calling in plaintive
tones upon his beloved Florence Amelia.
'Throw open the lattice love, and look
down Upon the easement, for 1, your dear
Frederick am hone,'
What brings time at this time of the
night, when all is still and gloomy
I come to offer thee my,heart. Upon
my soul I love theetruly, wildly, pas
sionately love thee. Post thou recipro
eitteT
The maiden blushed as she hesitated.
4 All,' cried he, and the face ofour hero
lit up with a sardonic smile, 'thou lovest
another !'
'No !no ! l'cried Florence.
Then why not rush to this bosom that
is bursting to receive thee ?'
Because;' replied the innocent, but
still trembling damsel,'[ AM UNDRIitiSED!'
A V F:LIB if 3 word signifying to bo, to do or
to stil cr. Woutau's lifti io a volt)).
rratlvi,
TERMS :--$1,50 in Advance, or $2 within the year
Blue Laws.
Among the blue lawis formerly in force
in Connecticut, we select the following.
They are amusing speemens enough of
blue legislation. No man shall court
a maid in person, or by letter without
fast obtaining consent of her parents;
five pounds penalty for the first offence,
ten pounds for the second, and for the
third, imprisonment during the pleasure
of the court.
No one shall read common prayer books,
keep Christmas, or set days make mince
pies, dance, play cards, or perform on any
instrument of music, except the drum,
trumpet or j ews-harp.
No one shall be n, freeman, or give a
vote, unless he be converted, and a mem
ber in rulf communion of one of the
churches allowed in this dominion.
A drunkard shall have a master appoint
ed by the selectman, who aro to debar him
from the liberty of buying and selling.
No one shall run on the Sabbath day,
except reverently to and front meeting.
Whosoever publishes a lie, to the pre
judice of his nei!rhbor, shall be set in the
stocks, or he whipped ten stripes.
No Roman Catholic priest, shall abide
in the (I , ininion; he shall be banished,and
sailer death on his return.
No one shall travel cook vietitalsonake
lied+, sweep house, cut hair, or shave, on
the Sabbath day.
It' any person turns Quaker, he shall be
banished and not suffered to return but
on pain of death.
No food or lodgin ,, shall be offeied to
a Quaker, adamite, or other heretic.
None shall buy or sell lands, without
pemission of the selectmen.
No woman shall kiss her child on the
Sabbath fasting day."
How TO I e MISERABLE.—Sit by the
window and look over the way to your
neighbor's excellent mansion which he
has recently buit and paid fur, and sigh
out-----Oh that I was a rich man I'
Get angry with your neighbor and think
you have nut a friend in the world Shed
a tear or two, and take a walk in the burial
ground, continually saying to yourself,
When . shall I be - buriod here ?
Nin a note for a friend, and never for
get your kindness, and every hour of the
day whisper to yourself—"l wonder if he
will ever pay that note."
Think every body means to cheat you.
Closely examine every bill you take, and,
doubt its being genuine till you have put
the owner to a great &al of trouble. Be
lieve every. nine pence passed you is but
a sixpence crossed, and express your
doubts about getting rid of it if you should
venture to take it.
Put confidence in nobody, and believe
every man you trade with to be a rogue.
Never accommodate if' you can possibly
help it. Never visit the sick or afflicted,
and never give a farthing to assist the
poor. Bity a 9 cheap a you can, screw
down to the lowest mill. Grind the faces
and hearts of the unfortunate.
Brood over your misfortunes, your lack
of talents, and believe that at no very dis
tant day you will come to want. Let the
workhouse be ever in your mind with all
the horrors of distress and poverty.
Follow these recipes strictly, and you
will be miserable to your hearts content
—if we may so speak—sick at heart and
at variance with all the world. Nothin ! ,
will cheer or eneourag,l you —nothing
throw a gleam of sunshine or a ray of
warmth into your heart.
.1 SNIART WoMAN.—A nice, respecta
ble lady, not a thousand wiles away, had
long noticed, to her dismay, that her
' worser half' was growing foolishly sus
picious and jealous of her. She resolved
to teach him a lesson.
Some evenings since, as be was leaving,
she told him he need not hurry back—she
would not be lonely—she wished her
ducky to enjoy himself, etc. Benedict
smelt a veritable mice, under that hypoe
r'sy, and resolved to be avenged. A
bout 8 o'clock, 'an individual,' about his
size, might have been seen creeping cau
tiously along to the door, and noiselessly
Benedict peeped in. Just as he expect
ed, there they were—a pair of boots—a
coat on the back of a chair, and a hat on
the table. Benedict shivered like an aspen
loaf, as he stopped, pulled off his boots,
aiid drew a pistol from his coat pocket.
With resolution flashing from his eye,'
ho wade tracks for the bedroom. There
he was kneeling at the bed-side, coat and
vest off, and his head on the pillow. Mis
erable villain—his time had come.
Say your prayers, villain L-your time
is shore—mid a flash and a report told
that the bullet had sped on its fatal mis
sion, Help ! murder ! Watch ! Oh, is
that you ?' and Madame popped her little
head up from
,the foot of the bed.
Benedict seized the body, and it was—a
fseel Itineous colleetiou. til old - coats, - vests,
pillows, handkerchiefs, and the like, made
up for the occasion.
I say, my dear, what does all this
mean ?' exclaimed the husband, with a
blank, sheepish look•
' Well; slear," replied the wife, did
get lonely. after all, and just amused my
self by dressing up that puppet, and mak
ing believe you were at home. I'm sure,
I didn't think you'd suspect.'
'There, there,' said tho chagrined bus
gaud, say no more about it ; I thought it
was a robber; dear oreature, I'Ari so glad
it didn't hit you.'
Benedict repeated, 'Now I lay me,' etc.,
and went to bed, resolved not to watch
any more at present.
ON THE CHOICE OP A WIFE.—GO
my son, said the Eastern sage to Tal
more, go forth to the World; be wise in
the pursuit of knowledge—be wise in
the accumulation of riches—be wise in the
choice of friends; yet little will this avail
thee, if thou choosest not wisely the wife
of thy bosom.
A wife what a sacred name—what a
responsible office ? She must be the un
spotted sanctuary to which wearied man
may flee from the crimes of the world, and
feel that no sin dare enter there. A wife!
She must be the guardian angel of his
footsteps, on earth, and guide them to
Heaven : so firm in virtue that should he
for a moment waver, she can yield him
support, and replace him upon his firm
foundation : so happy in conscious inno
cence, that when from the perplexities of
the world ho turns to his home, •he may
never find a frown where he sought a
smile. Such, my son, thou seekest in a
wifeand reflect well ere thou choosets.
Open not thy bosom to the trifler; re
pose not thy head on the breast that nurseth
envy and folly and vanity, Hope not for
obedience where the passions are untamed;
and expect not honor from her who honor
eth not the Ciod'who made her.
Though thy place be next to the throne
of princes and the countenance of royalty
beam upon thee—though thy riches be as
the pearls of ()mar, and thy name honor
ed from the East to the West, little will
it avail thee if darkness and disappoint
ment, and strife be in thine own habita
tion. I here must be passed•thine hours
in solitude and sickness—and there must
thou die. Reflect then, my son, ere thou
choosest, and look well to her ways whom
thou wouldst love; for though thou be
wise in other things—little will it-Avail
thee if thou oboosest not wisely the wife
of thy bosom.
NO, 8.
AIN'T Dean —A Boston lady having a
drunken husband, resolved to frighten
him into temperance. She therefore en
gaged a watchman for a stipulated amount,
to carry Philander to the watch house,
while yet in a state of insensibility, and
to "frighten him a little when he revived."
In consequence of this arrangement he
was waked about eleven o'clock at night,
and found himself lying on a pine bench
in a strange dim apartment. Raising
himself on his elbow, he looked round
until his eye rested on a man sitting by
a stove, and smoking a cigar.
" Where atli I l" asked Phil.inder.
" lu a medical college," said cigar
smoker.
" What a doing there ?"
" Going to be cut up !"
" Cut up !—how comes that? "
" Why you died yesterday, while you
were drunk, and we have brought your
body here to make anatomy."
It's a lie—l ain't dead !"
" No matter; we bought your carcass,
siri'y how, from your wife, Who had a right
to sell it, for it's all the good she could
e'er make Out of you. If you arc not
dead, it's no fault of the doctors, and
they'll cut you up, dead or alive.
" You will do it, eh ?'' asked the old sot.
" To be sure we will— now—immediate
ly, was the resolute answer.
" We'll look o'here, can't you let us
have something to drink before you be
gin ?"
A SMART MAN.-My friend lives three
wiles from the post office; and one stormy
night last winter he told his new help to
harness the horse, go down to the office,
and see what there was in the box, giving
him the number.
In due time Jerry returned, and put
up his horse at the library door of Mr. C
who sitting in gown and slippers,was
impatiently waiting the arrival of the mail.
"Well, Jerry, what was there at the post
office for Ine ?"
Two fetters and a paper, Sir."
" Well, hand them to me ! What are
you standing there for ?"
" Indade, sir, and you didn't tell me to
bring them, at all, at all
Mr. C —, finding that Jerry had
the best of it, asked him what, ho went to
the office fur.
Jerry replied :
" You tould we to go to the office and
see what was in the box, and haven't 1
done it, sure!"
Jerry had to harness up again, and take
another ride in the cold, muttering as he
went that he wished his Honor would "be
tallier meaning what ho said next time."
PO VERT Y. --Bulwer says that poverty
is only an idea, in nine cases out of ten.
Sonic men with ten thousand dollars a
year, suffer more for want of means, than
others with but three hundred. The rea
son is, the richer man has artificial wants.
His income is ten thousand, and by hab
it he spends twelve or fifteen thousand,and
lie suers enough from being dunned for
unpaid debts to kill a sensitive man.. A
mail who earns a dollar a day and does
not run in .debt, is, the happiest of the
two. Very few people who have never
been rich, will believe this, but it is as
true as God's word. There are people, of
course, who are wealthy, and enjoy their
wealth ; but there are thousands upon
thousands, with princely incomes, who
never know a moment's peace, because
they live
_above their means. There
_
morn happiiressin the world among
working people, than attiong those who
are called rich.
Dn. BzEstfax, in his " Essay on Women."
iemarks, with some truth, that " Beauties ,
generally die' old maids."
" They sot such value on• themselves," 'he
says, "they don't find a purohnser until the
market is Olosed. Out of a dozen beauties
who have some out within the last eighteen
years, eleven are still single. they spend
their days in working green dogs on yellow
wool, while their evenings aro devoted to low
spirits and Irench novels."