rind ti
=I
SHE COMES PROM St. LOUIS!
DT EDNA DEAN PROCTOR
"On the 10th of July the steamboat Imperial arrived
at Nor' Orleans from St Louis, the first beat between
the cities for snore than two years."
gas COMOR from St. Louis! llurrth and hurrah !
She lies at the levee unmarred by a scat !
No eruining guerillas could frighten her back.
Though longing, like bloodhounds to loop on her hack
No cannon to sink her, nor chain set to bar,
She comes from St. Louis! Ilurrah and hurrah I
She comas from St. Louis! Who now will deny
That Vicksburg, l'ort Hudson, In ruin must lie 7
Tho good host Imp trial laughed them to scorn
As bold to our Invite she rounded at morn,
And brought with her freedom anti wealth from afar-
She comes from St. Louis! Hurrah and hurrah
'She comes front St. Loins! The river Is free!
What tidings of glory, New Orleans, for thee!
0 welcome her Herald the holiday time,
Fling nu trail your banners now— let the bells chime—
Of Sunny days dawning, the harbinger star,
She comes Trom St. Louis! Hurrah and hurrah !
She comes front St. Louis! Our torpor Is o'er;
We breathe the fresh air of the Northland once more!
MN wakes at the wharves again ; stirs In the street;
'Mama bright In the faces that smile as they greet
No traitor our triumph ran nindcr or mar—
She comes front St. LOUIS: Hurrah and hurrah!
She comes from St. Tcruirr! Away with the pima
That river or peophr s hould h o !
One current sweeps past us; one likeness we wear,
One flat; through the future rizht proudly We'll bear;
All hall to the day without malice or jar!
She comps from St. boule! hurrah and hurrah !
~~~x~~tic~~~Ya~~~ai~.
AFTER MANY DAYS
"Cast thy bread upon the waters, for
thou shalt find it after many days."
" I wonder what that means ?" said
Hamilton Brent, half aloud, as he sat
!Coking into the bright anthracite, bla
zing with such a pleasant lig-ht before
him. "Fin quite sure that I under•
stand what that man means when, after
he stopped ate,
- asked for work, and look
ing at his rags, I gtve him something to
do in the lumber yard, more for human
ity's sake than for work ; he took my
warmly gloved hand in his cold one and
repeated the Scripture proverb that my
mother had. so often taught nie I an:
sure I was not casting bread, in the sense
1 have always thought of it. glad Igi y
en a poor chill a quarter, or a poor man
some meat, it would have beet: a parallel
case to this one. Both tniclit have re.
berless changes, the mercy of my charity
might never have returned to hies; me.
The man may not come to work, or if he
does, only stay until he gots a little mon
ey and then go to his friends if he has
any, and that :nay end any relation we
may at present or fur any time sustain to
each other."
Thus in the hear, of the employer the
matter was laid to rest; but in a pair of
other ones, the promise of wor k holing o f
many good thin g s yet in store, kept hope
from growing feeble and sick, and then
dying in de pair. From the house of
Giles Davis—a home rendered cheerless
now by want and suffering—went up
many blessings for him who in their
darkest hour had befriended them, and
doubt whether the intelligence of great
fortune would have 'nude that young
wife's heart lighter than did the an
nouncement of her husband.
"-To morrow, Ellen, I will haVe werk
-0, if to-m, rrow were but here l"
Dreams, pleasanter than those that for
weeks had visited their pillow, came to
them that night, and before half of his
fellow-laborers were thinking of their
daily task, Hiles presented himself at the
office door of Hamilton Brent, to receive
his share of the duties that fell to the lot
of the lumber dealer.
Brent met him at the door. his
punctuality, or rather extra punctuality,
very pleasantly impressed his employer,
himself a man of hard work, always first,
and invariably last around the yard and
the office.
" Ah, toy man, I'm vlad you have
come, I did'ot know but you would fur
et the number or something of the sort.
What is your name?"
"Giles Davis."
"In a moment it stood on the day
book and ledger, in the great round let
ters for which Ilamiltonhad been praised
when a school-boy.
"Now go with me."
"At this juncture Porter Came in,
foreman "hand of the hands," and to his
less tender mercies the new comer was
given over. After the two had gone in
the yard, Giles 80, at his task assigned
him, and Porter had returned to the of
fice, Mr. Brent said to him;
"Do not allow Davis to work hard ; I
guess the poor felluw has seen hard
tames."
1 ' I shouldn't wonder," was the reply,
"but he works as though lie meant to do
his duty!:
hope he will ; I like a man thor
oughly in earliest in whatever be under
takes, and theee is an expres4ion in Da
vis' eye that I like. I believe I can re
ly on a man who owns such a pair of
eyes as he does," and as a hint to Porter
to busy himself, Brent turned to his
books.
During the day his mind did not re
vert to the charity .hand' as the foreman
called Davis, but whemat night he went
to look about the yard, he. found him
hard at work piling some oak timber
which he had promised to have n-easured
and delivered early next nun nine.
4 4 How is this ?" said the careful mer
chant to himself; "should he be waiting
.to steal or burn, I must see the lust of
him before-I leave," and so he came up
to his new hand, with distrust in the
heart where confidence had reigned in
the morning: Thus quickly do the hour
and the id/pulse make sad havoc. some
times of our nature's highest and holiest
qualities.
" Why have you not quit, Davis LThe
other - men - - have gone boine a long time."
".Dlr. _Porter wished me to pile this
timber and I staid to, do it, sir."
"I believe I hired you to - work from
seven until six, didn!t. 1 ?"
• "Yam"; sir."
Then you have no business to stay
after. that hour, unless I bid you.. Por.
-ter had no - right to impose upon you-more
them towboues -
"lie offered me a shilling for doing
VOL. 63.
A. K. RHEEM, Editor & Proprietoi
this job, and—and—" the man's voice
grew very hoarse, " times have been very
hard with me—sickness and no work
have l:^pt me pretty low, and I am glad
to earn an honest penny whenever I can,
sir."
" That's nil right; but I want to shut
up, myself, and I can't wait until you get
through. You must go home now."
" But then—" and the man stopped.
His voice could not trust itself in words.
" But then what ?" said Brent, begin.
ning to grow cold and impatient.
"I was going to say, sir, that I should
have nothing to eat until to-morrow;
was to go to Porters house on my way
home :Ind get the shilling, and I would
not a , k for it, before try work was done."
" Do you do this for money to buy
somell ing to eat ?"
" That is all, sir."
" Ilerc is your day's earnings," hand
ing him as he spoke, a dnll,ir. " Let
the lumber go. I will :-ee to that in the
morning"
" All this for nie ? lam welkin„ sir,
not In7ging ;" there was a flash of inde
pendent: dignity in his eyes that Brent
liked to see.
" I hired you," was the cool business
answ e r, " to pay you as I do other men
whom I have to work - . I would dive yon
more it I could afford it, I would certain
ly he a heathen to give a man who has a
family to support in a ,city like Boston,
anything loss than six dollars a week.—
I like you—l fad love I earl trust, you.—
This is to be your plare, and I your mas
ter, uwil you get a Iwtter (we ~onrwbere
eke But, I nitt , t lock up, and iirlst go
home."
1C ho shall (.le,..ribe that home made
!dad by a few comforts to which it had
lomz been a stranger All the way to
Beac.ri qtrect, II unlit - on Brent thoit!rlit
of it, aryl after lie sat down to his.; own
.L1.4111°1 , , pict-n red- the supper-table in - Bit -
cis' room, the centre piece ot the altar ()I'
thankfulne.,:. To 111 , matronly h0 u ,,..
keeper, wleHo lieu I e y, r ol.rn to
deeds of charity, he toil the :.4:1/1 St trv.
nntl promisetl t t iind the in-:: day where
they lived, that from the 161111 ti e ,; he had
been blessed ivith tiles haute
Might 1, yet happier and ple:Hanter.--
The next itiornile, , he (lid not for : Yet, to
ask (files )xliere he lived, and after (lark
the hour keeper awl her : , on paid a . St.
Nit:ll°llH visit to the room tie-ignated,
leaving their basket upon Eh,. pl itferm in
front of the door, with nothing to show
fr6'm whence it came, but the two letters
" 11. B." burned upon tie handle.
Early and late was Giles Davis at
work - , ttn.l the rag7ed " charity hand, -
that at first the men in the yar,'l had
- shunned, grew to be re , pcc, ed by all.
from his employer down to Tip, the little
fellow who made fires and did the er
rands of the office. The old housektto- .
er, after being cautlit in her second visit
a la St. N icholas, used to go in and cilia,
with the little. woman, whose hand and
life grew marvellously strong as the bet
ter time coining gleamed upon her.
norm on her It; heavonlv radhinre shed
And waved Its silver plutons o'or her head..
The winter went by, and March came
—the month of winds and snow, of n a ils
and rains —of days that arc cheerless and
ni.t.hts that are gloomy even to the gay
est heart, and still toaster and man s tood
as firm and as high in each other's confi
dence as ever. Often, as he sat alone,
Hamilton Brent conceived an imperfect
knowledge of his proverb shining upon
him . in the kind effort of Giles Davis ;
but the full time had not yet come for
him to sec, " after many days," the
wealth of its promise.
llpon one of those stormy days you and
I. have seen in March, Cattle an orcler for
ship timber, which Brent must attend to
himself. All day long he staid in that
drenching and chilling storm. That
night his walk scented longer than usual,
the house colder, the matronly house
keeper " crusty." I 1 is great vision.; were
sad ones—his dreams were more like
spiritual visitations than like visions we
love to think linger around and above us,
in our sleeping moments.
The next day at his office passed sadly
and drearily until night, when heart and
flesh failed him, and he fell fainting to
the floor. Ih ehe hour of excitement
that followed, Giles Davis stepped into
the position of counsellor and nurse.—
Every one in and around the office gladly
followed his directions ur asked his ad•
vice. fle it was who they agreed should
support Brent home and stay with him.
During the illness of many weeks that
followed his rash exposure, el iles'strung
arm was the uric on which the old house
keeper leaned for support and guidance:.
The quiet; little'woman was brought from
her humble home to the grander one of
her husband's employer, to assist in the
onerous duties of nurse. The sick man,
whose friends (with the exception of an
invalid aunt, who lived with' her daugh
ter, in Maine, had all gone to the " spirit
land," looked, in moments of conscious.
ness, the gratitude he could not speak,
every day, as Giles would go to the office
to consult with Porter and report favor
ably to his employer.
It. was riot until " April showers'' had
brought "May flowers" that Hamilton
Theta took his old seat in ,the office, and
Hiles his accustomed place in the lumber
yard. But the strongest tie that can bind
humanity together uriited their hearts,
and Hamilton never forgot- that, under
God,-he owed Ink after prosperity to the
elitinty hand. 7 ,:. During the 'summer
evenings, when his bachelor. home grew
silent, be would think, with a lingering
regret, of , a. pleasanter one . in a quiet
street, and demo some plan to insure that
one as a part of his own. It was not un
til Christmas that his, plan was perfected
Then, when the other bands. received the
strip of paper with. "A Merry: Christ
rims" written on and a dollar note
. ~
j
..
,
..
• , k
1 1
1
•
1
•.
I A
, ...„
(
A, ..,•• •
4 9 .
•
pinned to it, Giles received a little pack
age, and opening •it in his pleasant home,
limnd it to contain one-fourth interest in
the lumber yard, provided Mrs. Pavia
would consent to occupy the home in Bea
con street, in company with her husband,
Hamilton Bi-ent, and her old friends the
matronly housekeeper and her son. Mrs.
Davis was not unreasonable. She went,
carrying with her but the sweet smiles
that had made her humble Iwo° a para
dise for her husband ; and as Hamilton
Brent enjoyed the pleasantness of the
group that lingered in the moonlight of
history of his ancestral mansion, his heart
understood at letwth the blessedness of
the command, "Cast the !,! . o.td upon the
waters, for thou shalt find it after many
days."
what profligate in the early years of his
manhood ; but his old uncle had eneour
inzed him to reform— held out hopes to
which they had hitherto been a stranger;
and the love of the sweet young - Jenny
Brazier completed. as it seemed his re-
John Clark and his 'Fortuna. I formation.
"Never mind the house .Tulin, we've
got one a our own," whispered John
Clark's wife.
She was a bright little thing only
twenty years old. And how brightly.
and bewitchingly she shone a star a
mong the compitny.
But what in the world has he left
me'!" inuttered,John ("ark. " L helieve
he haled ine-1-itielieve they all hate
MC."
" Hush dear," F:iid his \rife
" 1 by(pieittli
.to John _Clark,Any dear
beievud nephew," read the grim iitterney,
as a reward ler his lirinties, in re-istim ,
temptation duriii the last two years, and
determination to improve nt all ac
ceptable thin s, my ene-hone chaise
which bets stood in my barn twenty live
yeats, ruyiestimis that will repair it or
can-e it to be repaired, in a suitable man
ner."
tic .t 5; all. SOMO of fin iwaple
tit - tired aml seemed to enjoy tlw cotiftt
hitn- --die- iv:tot—you 11g . - Clip r;y
fla L .l fire—he trcuthluT cx.c,ivcly ;
Bane little Jenny fait ly crir 1.
"To tul "lor,v
tril L tiic,l to be 11 , ;111 , 1 that is ,iii
he Iliffiv2lit cd'lt "
" 11'ish yrrit s;iiil the red
he a ded youth, with a hn,a,l ?r i ll a , hr
came nut i Ihr rerun.
(}l}ll lip to rolls r but
a huh. ‘chute hand laid On his Rim, re
rustraHled
" Let them t„iumph,.Tohn; it Nv . . n't hurt
you," sael Jenny with a smile; pray dent
n , tiv thcin ;nay s•tl;', dear John "
SCIWC(I 111111 right, ,aiti SEIS.III
Spriggs, the niece at the old man just
dead, to whom he loft a eoriil oeal of hi
tifimey, "served him right for neirryingi ,
guo,e of a ilawny I;raizer.
I Sll
T V:4 he speculated a good deal on
the old inan's generosity. -
To which she added in a whisper that
only-her OWltilearrheard
" lie might have had ire—he had the
chance ; and I laced him better than any
one else—better than little simpleton
Jenny Braizer."
" Now we shall see how deep his good.
ness is, " said a maiden aunt. "He be
came very pious just because he expect
ed a fortune from iny poor dead brother;
but we must see lmw much of a chaneic
there is in John Clark—he always was an
imp of wiekedne-s."
Well I think John Clark will have
to be contented with his little cottn , e,"
Raid the rather of Susan Bri=g , , to good
old J oe. 11cwr.
"Well 1 think he is content; if lie
ain't he ought to be, with that little
jewel of a wile," was Joe's reply.
‘• rshaw, ,you're till crazy about that
gal," said SPrip , :. " Why she ain't to
be compared at. ;ill to my Susan. Susan
plays the forty piano like sixty, and man
ages a house first rate."
" 12."itiss 3 , ,, tt, neighbor Spriggs, I'd rath
er have that innocent blooming face to
smile upon me when I waked up in the
morning., than all the l in ty piano gals I
ever saw."
" I'd like to know what you Mcan
exclaimed .31r. ~`..-I ,p riggs firing up Mum.
dialrly.
"Just, wha' I say,'' said good old Joe
Cooly.
" IVell, that .1 oh n Clark 'll die on the
gallows yet, mark toy word," said iNlr
Spriggs.
" That same John Clark will wake one
of our Lest 11/Cll yet," replied uld Joe.
Complacently.
" 1 )uubt it," said Spriggs
" Yes, may be you du," said /4ue, "and
that's a pretty way to build up 4 young
fellow ain't it, when he's trying to /hi
best ? Not.lohn Clark won't be a great
man if you eau help it. People thaj toy
mad dog are plaguey willing, to stone the
animal while he's running, and if he ain't
mad they're sure to make him so. Why
ilon't you step up to unit and say 'John,
Pin glad you're going right now and I've
gut faith its you; and it you \villa any
hely, cones to me, and I'll assist you ?'—
'llat's the right way to do the business,
r. Spriggs."
" 1 hope you'll 'do it, that's all,"
said Spriggs.
"1 hope I shall,. and I'm bound to 'do
so if I have sr chance. Fact, is, he's got
such a smart little wife his don't really
need any help."
. “No / it's a pity then that brother
Jacob WC him that chait.e."
" You needn't laugh at that; old Jacob
never did anything without a weaning to
it. That ohiehaiseway.help him .to be
great yet. Fuer is', I think myself, if
jiwob,had left him money, it wightliase
been the ruin of him.
,Less things than
a one-horse chaise have made a man's
fortune."
Well I'm glad you think so inuoll of
him; I don't," said Spriggs.
" No," muttered Joe, as his neighbor
was turning away; "but it' be bad mar=
rind your iaw-boued darter; that plays on
the forty planner he'd been all right."
CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1863.
trissk
"A one-horse chaise," said Spriggs
laughing, "what a fortune."
And so it went from mouth to mouth.
None of the relatives—some of them al
ready rich—had offered the poorest man
among them (the owner of a one-horse
chaise) any of the bequeatbment left to
him or her; hut they had rather rejoiced
in his disappointment.
The truth is that everybody had prom
ised that John Clark, a poor motherles
boy, should come to ruin, and they want
ed this prophecy to prove a' true one.—
e had in hi 3 youth, been Wild and some-
Jenny never vpeared so lovely as she
did on that unfortunate day pf the read
ing of the 'will after they had returned to
the poor little cottage that was Jenny's
own.
" No matter, John," she said, cheer
fully, 'you will rise in 'spite of them.—
wmildn't let them think I was the least
discouraged ; that would please them too
well. We are doing finely and;you know,
iI . they cut, the railroad through 'our bit
of land, the money will set 'IS up quite
comfort:Wk. Isn't, our honleit
bill, if' it is small. And ohf John„by
and hr "
doquent blush-- a glance toward
her work-basket, out of Nvhich peeped the
most, - delicate needlework—told the story ;
that ever new story, innocence, beauty
and helplessness.
For once, John Clarke stopped the
"go,sip's mouth." Ile held his head up
mind ully, worked stein)) , at his trade, and
CV cry step he took seemed a SUIT advance
and an _upward -one:. • - -
11,1hy wns just six months old when the
rnilwny company paid into John Clarke's
linnol a very handsome sum for the
cubing a milway through his lit
[lc lick].
" .1 handsome bady, a beautiful and
holustriutts wife, and a ,wood round SUM
in 110 the railway company:l_ thought.
with fin Imnest exultation; "well,
this is indeed livirn..;•.—
.John," said his wife, raising from
her work, "look there :''
Ile did. and saw the old one•linre,o
by a :4f:dwarf laborer.
" )faster says as how the old barn is
going to bo pulled down, so he 800 . . the
shay. - • sail the laborer.
thank hir . y for •
hiifer'y ;hat 1), smile of W . CI '
god a btst;VOt o 16'
out of hi, eyes.
"John, you call spare a little money to
Ji.a.v.e._ the old chaise-Edone,- up r ettn4 .you
You to, according to your uncle's
will said Jenny.
" The old trash !" muttered John
" But, yon conld at least sell it for
what the repairs would cost," said Jenny,
in her Winning way.
" Yes I supposed could dO that," said
.1 oh n,
"'Then [(I have it done,'' said Jenny ;
" and bless rue, I'd keep it too. You've
got a very rood horse, and can easily have
the old chaise made quite stylish for baby
and me to ride in "
" well—l'll send it over to
IhG
iner'w to-,thorrow, and see what he'll do
Cur il," slid John.
"Look here! Mr. Hosmer wants you
to come over to his shop!" shouted the
wheelwriglirs o apprentiee on the follow
ing day at the top of his stout lungs
Old Joe Hemp is there, and sass how
he's right down glad. It's hundred, and
hundreds and hun—
" Stop, boy ! What does he mean,
Jenny ?" cried John, putting the baby
in tlw cradle, face downwards.
" 11y patience, John ! just look at that
child—the precious diming! in sure
I don't know John. I'd go over and
see, - said
"'t'ain't any fun, I tell you'," said the
boy while John hurried on his coat and
hat ; " nay gracious I, guess you'll say
ain't fun when you Cotne to see all thew
gold things, and the papers."
This added J'ohn's feet, and a
moment he stood breathless in the wheel
wright's shop.
" Wish you joy, my fine feller !" cried
Joe iieinp.
" Look here I wharil you take for that
o d chaise ? ['II give you four hundred,"
cried the wheelwright in great glee.
"Pour hundred I" repeated John Clark,
aghast.
" es j u , t. look at it! You're a rich
man, sir, and I 11111 ghid of it. You de
serve to be" said the whrielwright,shaking
John's hind heartily. What do you sup
pose was the consternation, delight, grat
itude—the wild joy that filled the heart
of Clark when ho found the old chaise
lined with old bank notes? Fibean the
cushions, the and every place
where they could be put without injury,
Poor John—or rather rich John r —his
head was nearly turned.' it required all
the balance of Jenny's nice equipoise of
chat actor to keep his ecstatic brain from
spinning like a humming top.
Sew he .15equeathed to his red headed
cousin who. had 'Wished. him joy when the
will Was read—the dear old uncle
W hat
. gcnuinesorrow he felt as he thought
:ortbe _ many times he had heaped 're
proaches upon his memory!
Imagine if you can, dear reader, the
pemlliar feeling of
,those kind friends who
had prophesied that John Clarke would
come to grief.- . At first oldJoo llemp
propos4 to take the old chaise just as it
Was.--,Alining stripped, bits of Cloth
t'hang
ino—and proclaim with a trumpet the
glad tidings to the whole village, taking
especial care to stop before 'the house of
the spiteful._ Mr: Spriggs;' and blowing
TERMS :--$1,50 in Advance, or $2 within tho year
loud to drown all the forte pianos in the
universe ; but this was voted down by
John's kind little wife.
"La ! the'll all know of it soon enough!"
she said, kissing the baby; "I wouldn't
hurt their feelings."
They will know of it : and a few years
afterward they all agreed that John Clarke
had really turned out a good man.
So mush for the one horse chaise
Pepper's Ghost in Chicago
Prof. Peppers Ghost, which has star
' tled Gotham out of its propriety—we beg
pardon of the mob-ites—has been eclipsed
in Chicago. An individual from the
rural districts stepped into Downs & Co,'s
store, on Lake street i .a few days ago, and
while making some purchases, east his
eye away. down the long lines of shelving
and counters, remarkint , to a clerk—
" Mighty long store this from one end to
Cot her." The clerk nodded assent, and
the eye of the countryman fell upon his
own reflection in a large nliffro . r tit' the
further end of the store. "There's my
brother out there in that ere alley, sure
as you live, and I seen him afore
in three years. flow can I get bark
there ?'"fhe, clerk told him he would
have to go out upon Lake st,Oet,, around
the corner and into the alley. It should
be remarked that the clerk did not sec
-„the,,jukc, .r.cally. supposing that- t he- corm ,-
tryman had seen his brother through a
rear window. Rural went out, and after
nt thorough search, returned and an
nounced that his brother had "gin hint
the slip." Looking down the store again,
ho exclaimed " I'll be darned it' brother
John a,in't there mmin," and down he
paddled towards the mirror. As he neared
it, he smile l ; his reflection in the mir
ror cordially returned it, and advanced to
Irmo hint. floral extended his Mimi and
't - he - retleeticim
at this in , mnt Itural's hand came in con
tact with the cold glass; he started hack,
ruldied lii (.4 took a se,ond look —(1)1 , (
Salt lII' nid),.(l rroni tin , store, swear
tht "he and I)rvt h e r were
twi a ,, an d couldn't toll oni , another apart,
and Cho durnod look in: , -ginss had F,4lipked
him in.
MRS PARTINGION ON rosmErti.s.—
" That's a vow article for boantiying the
complexion," said Mr. Bibb, holding up
a small botiV fir Mrs. Partin7.ton to look
at. She looked up from toeing out a
woolen sock for Ike, and took the bottle
in her hand. "Is it, ineeed r said she;
they may get up over so mairy
rostrums for beautiryirn , the complexion,
Out, depend upon it, the less people have
to do with bottles for it the better i\ly
neighbor, :\lrs. Blotch, has been using a
bottl e a eOOll in my years, fir her coin :.
idexion; and her nose looks like a — rupture
of Mount Vociferous, with burning hither
running all over the contageous territory."
Mr. Bibb informed her, with a smile, that
this was a cosmetic fir the outside, and
not to be taken internally, whereupon
she subsided into die toe of Ike a sto.ck
ings, but, murmured somethin: , about the
danger of its "leaking in," nevertheless.
Ike, meanwhile, was rigging a martingale
for Lion's tail, securing tint wareish
member to his collar, and making him
appear as if scudding before the wind.
RATHER. STRONG —Old Deacon M
was the only storekeeper it a pretty
little village "up country," and used to
take a great pleasure in catechizing the
youth who might visit his store. One
stormy day—business dull—the deacon
was quietly smoking by the side of a
cheerful fire, when a ragged urchin en
tered, who seemed a fit subject on which
the deacon might, exercise his question
ing powers- The deacon drew a long
whiff—then pulled out his pipe, and ex
haling a long column of smoke, ettlled the
lad to him, and patting hint on the
shoulder a.ked him : " My son, what. is
the strongest thing you know of'?" The
lad thought a moment, then scratching
the bump of communicativeness through
a hole in his hat, answered : " Why, I
reckon mann knows, she's tarnal strong
herself, she can lick dad at any time, and
she said that the butter I got hero 'Water
day was the strongest she ever seed yet
—fir that was so strong she couldn't
hold it after she got it down."
Two GOOO TINs.—A lady made her
husband a present of a silver drinking
cup with an angel at the bottom, and
when she filled it for him, ho used to
drain it to the bottom, and she asked him
Why he drank every drop. •
" Because, ducky," he said, "I long
to see the dear little f angel."
Upon which she had the angel taken
out, and had a Devil engraved at the bot
tom, and he drank it off just the same,
and she again asked him the reason
" Why," replied ho, "because I won't
leave the old devil have a drop." -
tl m ' AN OLD WRITER says that to
make an entirely beautiful woman, it
would be necessary to take the head from
Greece, the bust froM Austria,' the feet
from lndostan, tire shoulders from Italy
the walk from Spain ; and the complex
ion from England. At that rate she
Would belti.Mosaie, and the man who mar
ried her; night well be said to have "taken
up a collection !"
M AO N ETIC Pow ER.-A leoturor was
dilating upon_ the powers the magnet,
defying any ono to show or name anything
surpassing its powers. 41 hear& demurred,
and instanced a young lady, who used .to
attract him thirteen miles .every Sunday.
ir..J'A sleepy . ehurehwarden, Who' or-
In played at cards, hearitig the rniuiptdr
use" the wordy,_" shuffle xr intirtal
coal," started' up; rubbed:' his . ;eyes and
Piolaimod fed. my deal !"
q(01
A writer in the Cornhill Magazine says:
Some years ago a gentleman, who lived
in a somewhat lonely part of the country,
was asked to go and see a poor neighbor
who was very ill. On his arrival he found
the man at the point of death and ex
tremely anxious to see a clergyman. The
visitor went to the house of a clergyman
who lived near, and told him of the dying
can's wish. The clergyman replied that
as the house of the dying man was out of
his parish he could not interlbre, nor would
any remonstrance induce him to do so.
An eminent lawyer was so fortunate as
to be made the heir of a rich and childless
old man, who, falling ill, showed him his
will, by which it appeared that the tes
tator had given lire interest only to his
intended heir. When this was pointed
Out' to the sick man he said, 'Ves, but I
understood you to,say you meant never to
marry r" l may hiIVC, said so,' was the
answer, 'but I certainly did not scriusly
Mean it, and at any rate, I should not wish
you to act upon that assumption." Them,'
said the sick man, 'draw up the Will so as
to give yourself the absolute property, and
I will execute it.' The lawyer replied
that he could nut make a will in his own
favor, and before another lawyer could be
found the tester had died, and the mistake
hail become irreparable.
rl=geetremittfikfi FA mte senpeit
with his "lite ; it t moson remained in his
Ludy awl caused lout '!stet
Ile employed terrain nureeogd,,zed retne
die-, and hy tneanA n 1 Mein, a, he consid
ered, rev here I 111 liedlth and got the pt icon
out of I,ia spletn. Ile went to an Clllllll'll.
pl\ , ici:Ln and deserihed lid> case. The
: will treat you On the sup
reedtion that you really have got rid of the
pa,on. hht don't tell It ot me, or the remedy,
inch I I via •ay ha; got. it I , t, is o u t reedg
to,:ed hr the pro us•rion:
est. t. i I Itenot tions are- it-Istan r's t:iikc ti
fro,,, the three le:trie: prolesstons of a
Joni of secret code ot laws, of which the out
bide weirld understands neither the princi
ples ie r the applie,itisos, list which Q.sereis ,
a wider ielloeitce ih.tu no.st people woold
soppo-te over prtteeedoi t zs"r unn ul ihe Tee,t
irepuri,et eh,,ses or the ...oeimeeity. se, It
rek, ;Ire ohmic always 11 popular, told even
it they nru at'lsll,,LVll'Llg,,,l 1,1 cc 'it, 1111,1
1111:1,' , 1 1,1 1111W111 - 111gly he t h e 11111.11 r, 111,111g11,
allll,llll all peculiar jurithliettort s , they u t
ten skeet 11/ Ili• it sit atige sort
or nor a-ton.thi e lot all \ by those ttho are
anLjoet ot their proveeets.
111 all prohablitry each feeling sprinus
from tic sloi" roil. Prole,ional wen Illot
rod:es:no:1:d rules bceau-te they ar, usual' ,
naitided un the pro:chilies that the proivss
ion to which they apply Is soinetkong ex-t,
trent, lv tl, a , t Ii: such, t•l,:lilvd 1.01
, 1511,1 I . l'olll 11, 1111 , 1,1 , (a/111.11 1 , 1/11L1111,
11 , 11.1 the pl . -111 ie. a correspond-.
log degree Sul respect. Cl'he public view
thew with impatiencc, nod to times even
Nvolt It-;cause they are generally
tl to _look upon . theta -as Org4 . ..tiized
hypocrisy, tool because, et all events, they
do not, like to adlnd that any class has tt.
right to claim any sort of perniauctit suite
notify over toltet.4.
(Wm-Ar, mirsioix.—The Richmond
E.,amincr is responsible for the following
ilhistration of optical illusion :
Three young men, handsomely dressed
sat by the well fountain in Capital square
yesterday morning, smoking, and chatting
pleasantly and leisurely. While thus en
gaged in whiling away time, a respect
able loooking citizen, whose head was
rather grayish and expression somewhat
stern and cynical, took a seat on the same
bench, and managed to glide into the
conversation, turninig its course, mean
while, to the army. At length he asked:
' flow is it, gentlemen, that you, in the
full tide of heal: h, with apparently plenty
of time and money, well brought up, and
all that—how is it that you sit here idly,
and sec others fighting and being butch
ered up, and sickening to death for your
sake ?'
W e ll,' responded one ' the army
would suit me well enough, but for one
thing; if you will pull off that neatly fit
ting shoe and roll up my drawers, you
will find a leg made of leather straps and
iron ribs The original I left at Sh.,rps
burg." As for me.' remarked the sec
ond, if you will take the troublti to feel
this lett arm, you will discover that the
bone between the shoulder blade and the
elbow, to the length of about five inches,
has been removed. When I stand upon
my right foot, also, I am balancing, on
my toes, the heel being gone. Result of
bullets in the second battle of Mamrsas '
The third youth scarcely knew what to
say, but looked daggers at the cynical old
codger, and finally broke out : The same
sort of talk forced me in. I was a ska
ting skleton when I joined, on the first
march 1 broke down, gut put in one of
the meanest hospitals in the country, and
can e out paralyzed in one side.' here)
he held up a shrivelled and a lifeless arm.)
And may I ask, Sir,' be added, 'what
keeps you out? You seem to be in ex
pellent vigor.' i‘le ? I'? Why : —ahem
r --I'm over forty-Ve I
tha..lf we had choice of a wife with
ten thousand poUnds and a bad temper,
and one with a sixpence, and a sweet,
good temper, we should take the, latter
at once, or we aro a bigger fool than we
suspect ourselves of being. We deliber
ately.believo that ten thousands pounds
five times told could not be made to pro•
cure as much happiness as a sweet 'tem
pered wife yields. And'as much es men
love money, the greater and best part of
them will judge as we do. SO girls, cul
tivate a sweet tempi as the best dowry
you can bring iihUshand.. .
is,.A..danky,'sinoking' a segar, having
entered a''tuenag,erio,' the proprietor re
tb take the weed from`• his
Mouth, qiist Tic slionld teach - the tither
monkeys bad habits.' - •
.
tkp,„,ll'inny sound liken paradox, yet
tho breakirng of both wings of an army is
a pretty yi ro way to•inake it fly,
NO. 41.
Professinal Etiquette
COUSINING.
A country gentleman lately arelreci at
Boston, and immediately repaired to the
house of a relative, a lady who had mar
ried a merchant of that city. The par
ties were glad to see him, and invited him
to make their house his home, as he do- .
Blared his intention of remaining in. that
city only a day or two. The husband of
the lady, anxious to show his attention to .
a relative and friend of his wife, took the
gentleman's horse to a livery stable in'
I lanover street.
Finally his visit became a visitation,:
and the merchant found after the lapsed
e . even days, besides lodging and boarding
the gentleman, a pretty considerable bill
had run up at the livery stable. eke-,
cordinglyi he went to the man who kept,,
the livery stable and told him when the
gentleman took: his horse he would pay
the bill.
" Very well," said the stable' keeper,
" I understand you "
Accordingly, in a short time, the mon
try gentleman went to the stable and or
dered his horse to be got ready. The bill
of course was presented to him.
" Oh," said the gentleman, "
my relative will pay this."
" Very good, sir," said the stable keep
er, " please get an order from .Mr.
it. will be the same as money."
- The horse was put. up again, and down
went the country gentleman to Long
Wharf, where the merchant kept.
" 'Well," said he, " I am going now."
" Arc you ?" said the gentleman, "Well
good bye sir."
" Well, about my horse; the man said
the bill must be paid for his keeping."
" Well, l suppose that is all right, sir."
" but you know I'm your
wile's cousin."
" Yes, - said the merchant, "I know
you are, but your horse is not."
mARRim-0,.-Ir there is a tie deemed
sacred on earth, and holy in a brighter
lan d. 'its that which binds man to his
-.kindred spirit-to-become as one itftt - dity
and hive ; and yet it, rarely happens that
he properly appreciates the kindness and
sincerity of the female heart, by setting
right value on a gem so productive of
happiness to the possessor. There is
nothing in lire so pure and devoted as the
au, plena:)le love of woman—more price
less than the gems of Golconda, and more
devout than time idolatay Mecca, is the
unsealed and gushing tenderness which
flow from the fount of the female heart.
Tt may . here with propriety be asked,
wl,itt so often enehanees the sorrow of' the
fem,ile heart, causing many anxious days
and sleeping nights ? Is it not for the
mom- tmicy nl• TIM For whose sake
,lons she hid adieu to the home of" her
rlrildhod? For win 111 does she leave
the loved father and the doting mother
and the sweet sister who played with her
ill Tfl whom does she cling
with a Fowl embrace, when all but her
hi\ e forsaken hi in ?
When it is Dark
I he followin , beautiful sentiment is taken
from '•\leicter Karl's Skrteh Ronk," entitled
"The Night of !leaven." It is full of tona
-1 g tenderness.'—"lt is dark when the bon
era idenii4 honest ma it sees the result of long
cars swept sway by dr: knavish, heartless
•e!-e Nary. It is dark when he sees the clouds
of sorrow gather around, and knows that the
hopes and happiness of others are fading
with his own.—!tut in that lour_the.memory •
of past integrity will be'a true consolation,
and asi , ire him even here on earth of gleams
of li,z lit in heaven. It is dark when the dear
voice of that sweet child, once so fondly
loved, is Ile more heard around in murmurs.
Dark, when the light, pattering feet resound
1111„Ili the threshold, or ascend step by step
ilie-stairs, Dark, when some well-known air
recalls the strain once attuned by the childish
voice now hushed in death t . Darkness ; but
enlv the gloom which heralds the dayspring
of tinntortality and the infinite light of
heaveil." •
\\ orir VINO AND L A UGH! NG.—A clerical
friend, at a eclubrated watering place; met a
lady who seemed to be hovering on the brink
of the _.rave. Her cheeks were hollow and
wan, her manner listless, her step languid
and her brow wore the severe contraction in
dicative both of mental and physical suffer
inff,..so that she was to all observers an ob
ject of sincerest pity.
Some rears after he encountered this same
lady, but so bright, and fresh, and youthful,
so full of healthful buoyancy, and so joyous
in expression, th,t he questioned himself if
he had not deceived himself i❑ regard to her
identity.
'ls it pos , ,ible,' said he, 'that I see before
me Nlfs. 11., who presented such a doleful ap
pearance at the Spring several years ago?'
'T .e very same.'
'And priiy tell me, madame, the secret of
your cure. What means did you use to at
tain such rigor of mind and body, such cheer
fulness and rejuvenation?
'A very simple remedy,' returned sbe, with
a beaming face. 'I stopped wnrrying and be
gan to laugh—that's all.'
Ask roe A PASS. -A good story is told
by the Buffalo Courier of a certain promi
nent railroad gentleman of that city, who is
equally renowned for making and taking a
joke. A railroad employee, whose home
is in Avon, came one Saturday night to ask
for a pass down to visit his family.
" You are in the employ of the railroad?"
inquired the gentleman alluded to.
" Yes."
Well. Now, supposing you were work
ing for a farmer instead of a railroad com
pany, would you expect your employer to
hitch up his team every Saturday night and
carry you home ?"
This seemed a poser, hut it wasn't. "No,"
said the man promptly, wonldn,t expect
that ; but, it the farmer had his team hitched
up, and was going my way, I should call
him a darned mean cuss if ho wouldn't s let
me ride."
'Mr. 10tployec came out three minutes af
terwards with a pass in his pocket, good for
twelve months.
ue_The . avaricious man is like the
barren sandy desert, which sucks in all
the rain and dews with greediness, but
yields no fruitful herbs or plants for the
ben.efit of others.
!Saut why don't you talk to truism,
- aud-tell'him to lay up treasures in hear
en?' What for ? What do use of laying - up
treasures dere, where he never see 'em
again.'
ttm.Never trouble trouble till trouble
troubles you.
Patrick, *here's Bridget 7' in
dado ma'am die's fast
. asleep looking at
tho• bread baking.'
ne:„Mrs. Partbingtoe 'says; that Ike;
who has just returned from France,
'.speaks French like' a l'aiishioner."