AD TERMS'UF , ADVERTISING. One Square one insertion, Il 00 For each subsequent insertion, For Mo ennuis Advertisements,, Logni Notices. _ Professional Cards without paper, Obituary No ti aes and COM m unica• Cons role tang to matte, sof pd. vats interests alone, 10 cents per lino :TOD PItINTING.—Our Job Printing. Office is the argeat and most complete establishment - in the Donn y. Pour good Presses, and a general variety of material suited for plain and Fancy work of every land, enables us to do Job Printing at the shortest notice, and on the most reasonable terms. Persons n want of hills, Blanks, or anything in the Jobbing no, will find it to their interest to give us a call. goat -15(formation. U. S. GOVERNMENT President —Anastrast laveota, Vico Proaltlent--Usaatuat. Hamm, Secretary of State—Wu. 11. ScivtllD. Secretary of Interior—Jan. I'. Usasat, Secretary of Treasury—Win. P. l'Easzetnett, Secretary of War—Emrtx 11. STANTON, Secretary of Navy—GIDEON WELLF.H, Post Master General—WM. DENNIFON. Attorney General—.lAm. S. SPEED, v.lllefJustice of the United States—P.stuoit I'. Class. STATE GOVERNMENT. 6oviftmor—Amnisw G. Ccavis, Secretary of State—ELl SLIFLII, Surveyor General—TAMEN Huta, huditor SLEN Eft, Attorney General—Wm. M. Mmumurn. Adjutant General—A L. Gmedua., attate Treasurer—likmay D. Moon's, ChiefJustic of the Supreme Court—Gxo. W.l9oon lidtah. COUNTY OFFICERS. p r osident Judge—Hon, James H. Graham. Associate Judges—Hon. Michael Cocklin, Hon Hugh Stuart. Vatriet Attorney—J. W. D. GlHelen. prothonotary—Satnuel Sid remati. Clerk and Reoorder—Ephraim Common, Registrar-4 eo W. North. lltgh SherLlT—John ./aeolts. County Treasurer—llenry S. Ritter. Coroner—David Smith CoUnty Commitisioners—llenry 'Karns, John Id boy, .Mitchell McClellan, Superintendent of Poor House—Henry Snyder. Physirian to Jail—Dr. W. W. Dale. Physician to Poor llouse—Dr. W. W. Dale. BOROUGH OFFICERS Older Burgess— Andrew B. Ziegler. Aggistant 11urge44—Itobert Allison. 'Gown Council—East Ward —.I. D. Ith in eh en Joshua P. BINIer, J. W. D, Gillelon, Ut•orge 15 . 017., West Ward-.0i.0., I, Ilurray,:l bon Past, n, A. Cat curt, JII9. B. Parker, .1 no, D. (I President, Council, A. Cathcart, W tlglll y, Borough Treasurer—Jacol, ich nein. High Constable nantuel Sipe. Ward Constable, Afidreiv Martin. Aslegs°, •John Outshall. Assistant Assessors, ans. Melt, Geo. S. Beetem. A uliCor —Robert, II Cameron. Tnc Calloctor—Alfred Ithineheart. Ward Collor. tore—Bast Ward, Chas. .1. Smith. Wust, N 1 ard, Theo Corn man, Stroot Com mission or, Worley H. Matthews Justices of the Peace—A, L. Spender, David .with. A hrm Deltutf, Michael Holcomb. Lamp Lighters—Chas. B. Meek, James Spauglsr -0-- CHURCHES First Presbyterian Ch ureb. North west nngle of Con [re Square. Rev. Conway P. Wing Pwstor.—Ser rice. every Sunday Morning at 11 o'clock, A. M., and , o'rlirk P. M. Second Presbyterian Church, corner of South Han over and Pottirt.t NIA nuts. Nev. John C Bliss. Pastor Serer ve, rouuucuce at I I "'clock, A. 31., stud 7 tJ'e.ock I'. 'I. Church. Prot. Episcopal, northeast angl of Cora, Service at 11 A M., a:l4.', P M. Lutheran Chu rob, BlflifOrd, betweon Mali Ind 1/o.lth, ..troot, 111,. do Fry, Past' r. Ser vices at 11 o'clock A. M.. and CO 2 r'ol.,cli I'. M. (I,rtnAil 11.11,,ritiod 1:1111,11. Lt.ZxLip.r. t,,,tw-e0 Ilan over 1111 Servic n nt I I 10,k A. \l., ,1111 i I' M. Mot n0,11.t. E. Churn I) I:firht charge) corner a M:11 and Pitt, r fie, Thom:)) It. ,herlork, SarYiees at II o'clovk A. M., and 7 cgclorh P. NI. M.,th...list h.. l'hurvh char,e,', Rev. S. T. Bow nil n, Pastor. Ferviees In Elllol - 3 M - E. Church al 1. o'clock .1. 31., and ;J: , I'. 31. Church 0( i;od Chapel. Pouch West co, of WeNt St and ilhapel Alley. 11ev B. F. Beck, Pastor. Service at 11 a, In., and~i~ 2 p. an. St. Patriek's Catholic Church, Pomfret near East at. 11ev Pastor. Survives every other Sab Math. at 1(1 n'eloek. Vespers at :; P. (barman but therm Church, corner of Pomfret an fiediprit streets. Hee .C. b'ritte, Pastor. iSert ices a 11 o'clock P. 'd. zn_When changes In th,, above. are necessary 0 proper persona are reque.ted t.. n.,cify us. DICKINSON COLLEGI• Ito,. Herman M..lohnson, D. 0., Prestdvnl and I'r enter or Moral Scianco. William C. Wilson., A. NI., I'rofeesor of N2tur , Selonce and Curator or the Museum. nay. wllilrm L.Bonsaull, A. M., Professor of the Greek and Gorman Languages. Smnursl D. Mi llman, A. M., Prof). sor of Mat.henutt John K. Staym in, A. M., Professor of the Lat'nnnd Vroneh Langua4es. Hon. James 11. Lire ham, Lb. D , yrotessor of Law. Rev. Henry C. Cilestou, A. II l'riucipal of the Grammar hchool. John Hood, A Nbistan t in the Ur/m=llr School BOARD OF Si!HoOL DIRECTORS E. Cornman, Saxton It. C. tVoodward, C.ll'. Ilutnerich Seat'y , 3. W. Eby, Tritaiiorni-, John Spliar, rilessiingor Moat on the let Miniday o 1 each ]tooth at 8 o'clock A Id at Education flail. CORPORATIONS C 711.181.1! DErosir BASK.—PreNideut, It.. 31. ponder. von, W. 11. Best em Cash. J P. Hassler arid C. D. Mahler Tellers, W. 11. Hail Mr. Clerk, -Underwood Mes senger. Directors, It. )1. Henderson, President, It. C. Woodward, SKiles Woodburn, Muses Bricker, John Zug, W. W. Dale, John D. (.1 orgas, Joseph J. Logan, Jno. Stuart, Jr. V/lIST NATI9rf AL agH.—President, Samuel Hepburn Cashier. Joe. C. Teller Abner C. Brindle, Mete ge tiger, Jesse Brown. Wm. leer, John Dunlap, ltleh'd Woods, John C. Dunlap, _lsaac Brenneman, John S. Sterrett, Sam'l. Hepburn, Director. CUNDERLAND VALLES RAILROAD COAVVANY.—Prosidont, Frederick Watts: Secretary and Treasurer, Edward M. Middle: Superintendent, 0. N. Lull. Pnasenger trains three times a day. Carlisle Accommodation, Eastward, leaves Carlisle 5.51 A, M., arriving at Cur. Damn 5.1111'. M. Through trains Eastward, 10.10 A, M. and 2.12, P. 31. Westward at 0.27, A. M., and 2.51 I'. CARLISLE Cos AND WAS ER COMPlNT.—Provident, Lem ;del Todd; Tressuror, A. L. Spowler ; Supurintunden, Ooorge 11 Die Directors, F. Watts, Wm. :11.11notemt R. 111. fiddle. Henry I3sx ton. Its C. Woodwurd, J. W, rattou, F. idardaur 1,111.1 11. Crat. SOCIETIES Cumberland Star Ledge No, 197, A. Y. )1. meets at Marlon llall on the 211,111,d 4th Tuesdays .of every month. Bt. John's Lodge No: 2 00 A. V. (14y of 0303 month, at :oarion Hall. Carlisle Lodge No.l/I I. 0 of U. F. Meets Monday Bylining, at '1 rout's building. Letort Lodge No. 63, I. 0. of 0. T. Moots every Thursday evening in Itheem'H Hall, 3d story. FIRE COMPANIES The Onion Fire Company was organized in 1789. Rouge in Loather. between Pitt and lb.:lover. The Cumberland Fire Comp any Wan Instituted Feb 18, 1800. House in hadfurd, b etween ]lain and Pout. Oat. The Oancl Will Fire Company was Instituted in March, 1855. House in Pomfret, near Hanover. The .Itmpire Ilnolt and Ladder Company was Institu ted In /839. /Louse lu Pitt, near Main. RATES OF POSTAGE Postage on all letters of ono half ounce weight or under, 3 cents pro paid. Postage on the HERALD within the County, free. Within the State 13 cents por annum. T. a n y part of the United States, 21$ cents Postage on all tran- Moat papers. 2 cents per ounce. Advertised letters to be oharged with cost of advertising. MRS• R. A. SMITH'S Photographs, Ambrotypes, lvorytypes Beautiful Albums ! Beautiful Frames ! Albums for Ladles and Gentlemen, Albums for and for Children, Pocket Albums for Soldiers and Civilians! ClL?lcest Albums I Prettiest Albums! Cheapest Albums! FOR CIIIIISTAIAS GIFTS 1 creaii and how from Now York and Philadelphia . Markets, TF you want satisfactory Pictures and polite attention tall at Mrs. R. A. Smith's Photo• graphic Gallery, South gest Corner of Hanover Street And Market Square, opposite the Court House and Post Office, Carlisle, Pa. Mrs. It. A. Smith well known 48 Mrs. R. A. Reynolds, And so well known ap a Daguorroan Artist, gives per oitial attention to Ladles and Gentlemen visiting her ,Gallery, and having the best of Artists and polite at tendants can safely promise that in no other Gallery ran those who favor her with a rail get pictures sane ., for to hors, liot oven in Now York or Philadelphia, or „meet with more kind - and prompt attention. Ambrotypes Inserted in Rings, Lockets, Brent Pine, Ac. Perfect copies of Daguerrotypes and Ambrotypea madeOf deceased friklg. Where copies are defaced, liredike plotures may still be had, either for frames or for cards, All negatives - preserved one year and orders by mall or otherwisepromptly attended to.. December 23, 18St—tf r)HE FORWARDING AND GRAIN 4. business ibrinerly conducted by Line, alvler & Co,, is now carried on by 71:0 40, 1864 -ft DR. WM. H. COOK, ROMOEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN, 1 , S,urgeon and 4.ecouchour QFFICE at his residence in Pitt sena, aoljolning the Blethodiet . ly 1, 180.1. rii(oloE .SEGARS St TOBAGO,asco ,0 ' s • r 4,2 - • AT Iwm, , • infinite variety of amu sing lot and Instructive Gimes at Ilaverstlek'a Drug and Du*, Dloro. 25 00 ' 4 00 7 00 I told Mr. Click that was about it, if we came to particulars; and I thought he appeared rather proud of me. Our conversation had brought us to a crowd of people, the greater part strug gling for a front place from which to see something on the pavement, which proved to be various designs executed in colored chalks on the pavement-stones, lighted by two candles stuck in mud sconces.— The subjects consisted of'a - fine fresh sal mon's head and shoulders, supposed to have been recently sent home from the fishmonger's ; a moonlight night at sea (in a circle) ; dead game ; scroll-work ; the head of a hoary hermit engaged in devout contemplation ; the head of a pointer smoking a pipe ; and a cherubim, his flesh creased as in infancy, going on a horizontal errand against the wind.— All these subjects appeared to me to be exquisitely done. On his knees on one side of this gal lery, a shabby person of modest appear ance who shivered dreadfully (though it wasn't at all cold), was engaged in blow ing the chalk dust off the moon, toning the outline of the back of the hermit's head with a bit of leather, and fattening the down-stroke of a letter or two in the writing. I have forgotten to mention that writing formed a part of the compo sition, and that it also—as it appeared to me—was exquisitely done. It ran as fol lows, in fine round characters : "An hon est man is the noblest work of God. 1 2 34667 8 9 0. of,. 8. d. Employment in office is humbly requested. Honor the Queen. Hunger is a 09876 5 4 3 2 1 sharpthorliip—ohopr - cherry — ch - op; fol de rol de ri do. Astronomy and math ematics. Ido this to support lily fami• 11! outs 3d Thurs Y. Murmurs of admiration at the exceed ing beauty of this Performance went about among the crowd. The artist having fin ished his touching (and having spoiled those places), took his Boat -on the pave ment with his knees crouched up very nigh his chin; and half-ponce began to rattle in. A pity to Bee a man of that talent brought Be low ain't it P' aaid ono of the orowd to me. JOAN GREASONi Ofenson, Oumb. 60 " What ho might have done in the coaoh-painting, or house-deoorating 1" said another man, who took up the first speak er beoadse I did not, te Why he writes---!done;— , like the Lord 'Chancellor I" said) another man. "Better," said another. "I know li4 writing, He couldn't support his family this way." Tfien'a woman noticed the nature] VOL. 65. RHEEM & WEAICLEY, Editors & Proprietors ~, ~y,'iu IYi IYo The Jolly Old Pedagogue 'Twos a jolly old pedagogue, long ago, Tall and slender, and sallow and dry, Ms form was bent and his gait was , low, Ilk long, thin hair was as white as snow, But a wonderful twinkle shone In his eye; And ho sang every night as he went to bed, " Let us be happy, down here below; The living should live, though the dead be dead," Bald tho jolly old pedagogue, long ago. Ito taught hie scholars the rule of three. Reading, writing, and history too; Ile took the little ones up on his knee. For a kind old beak in his'breast had be, And the wants of the littlest child ho know; "Learn while young," he often sold, "There Is much to onjoy down here below; Live for the Irving, and rest for the dead," Bald the jolly old pedagogue, long agg. With the stupidest boys ho wan kind a nd cool, Speakhez only In gentlest tones; The red iv,as hardly known in his school— Whipping, to hint, was a barbarous rule, ' And too hard work (or his poor old bones; Bonide, it wan psi old!, he sometimes said, NVo should mike It pleasant down here below, The liciss need charity morn than the dead," :laid the Jolly old pedagogue, long ago. flo thud In tho house by tho hawthot n lane, With Inse and woodbine over tho door; Ilis rOOlllB Were quiet, :M4 Ileta But a spirit of cond . , rt there held reign, And outdo hint forget he was old and poor; "I need to little," he often said, A tad my friends ztrul rulutleos, hero below, Won't litigate over me when I am dead,' Said the jelly uld pedagogue long ago. But the pleasantest times, we had of all, iVere the sociable hours we used to pass With his chair tipped bask to a neighbor's wall Making an unceremonious call, Over a pipe and a iCIOLIdIy glass; Th ie woe the hue,t pleasure, ho said, Of the many he tasted here below; " Who has no cronies, had better ho dead," Bald the jolly oil podav,ogue, lung ago. Then the jolly old pedagogue's wrinkled fare Melted all over in sur,hiny smiles; Ile sthred his glass with an old-sehool grace, Chuckled, and sipped, and wattled Am. °, 'Till the hou.,e grew merry from cellar to tiles '• I'm A pretty old man,' he gently said, I have long time hero below, But Illy heart is fresh, if iny youth is dead," S id the jorly old pedagogue, long ago. 1:1. Ho smoked his pipe in the balmy air Every nidat when the can WOO. down, While the soft wind played In his silvery heir, Leaving its tenderest kisses there On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly o!tt crown, And, feeling the kis:,es, Lu smiled, and mid— " 'Tis xt glorious w or id, 1.1•,w n here bet, w ; Why wa t for happiness till we Are dead?" Said the jolly sly pedagogue, long ago, VIII. He sat al his door, One midsummer night, After the sun bind sunk In the west, And the lingering beams el golden light Made his kindly old lave look wftf w and bright, While the odorous night-wind whispered, rest Gently, gently he bowed his head, There were angels waiting lor him I know— tie won cure of liapplUess, liviug or dead, Thin jolly old pedagogue, long ago! VVl' ilUtrnUltis . . - elriStlll,4S SOMEBODY'S LUGGAGE Cio agoaeci fluffiness of the he,rmit's hair, and another woman, her friend, mentioned of the sal mon's gills that you could almost see him gasp. Then an elderly country-gentle man stepped forward and asked the mod est man how he executed his work ? And the modest man took some scraps of brown paper with colors in 'em out of his pockets and showed them. Then a fair complexioned donkey with sandy hair and spectacles, asked if the hermit was a por trait ? To which the modest man, cast ing a sorrowful glance upon it, replied that it was, to a certain extent, a recol lection of his father. This caused a boy to yelp out, "Is the Pinter a smoking the pipeyour mother—?" who was immediate ly shoved out of view by a sympathetic carpenter with his basket of tools at his back. At every fresh question or remark the crowd leaned forward more eagerly, and dropped the halfpence more freely, and the modest man gathered them up more meekly. At last another. elderly gentle man came to the front and gave the ar tist his card, to come to his office to-mor row and get some copying to do. This card was accompanied by sixpence, and the artist Was profoundly grateful, and, before he put the card in his hat, read it several tittles by the light of his candles to fix the address well in his wind, in case be should lose it. The crowd was deep ly interested by this last incident, and a man in the second row with a gruff voice growled to the artist, " You've got a chance in life now, ain't you ?" The ar tist answered (sniffing in a very low-spir ited way, however), "I'm thankful to hope so." Upon which there was a gen eral chorus of " are all right," and the halfpence slackened very decidedly I felt myself' pulled away by the arm, and Mr. Click and Pstood alone at the corner of the next crossing. " Why, Tow," said Mr. Click, "what a horrid expression of face ypu've got!" " Have I'" says 1, . " Have you ?" says Mr. Click. "Why you looked as if you would have his blood," ~ Whose blood ?" " The artist's!' " The artist's !" I repeated. And I laughed frantically, wildly, gloomily, in coherently, disagreeably. lam sensible that I did. I know I did. Mr. Click stared at me in a scared sort of a way, but said nothing until we had walked a street's length. Ile then stop ped short, and said, with excitement on' the part"of his fore-finger : " Thomas, I find it necessary to be plain with you. don't like the envious man. I have identified the canker-worm that's pegging away at your vitals, and it's envy, Thomas." " Is it?" says I. " Yes, it is," says he. " Thomas, be ware of envy. It is the green-eyed mon ster which never d'd and never will lin prove each shining hour, but quite the reverse. I dread the envious wan, Thom, as. I confess that lam afraid of the en vious man, when he is so envious as you are. While you contemplated the works of a gifted rival, and while you heard that rival's praises, and especially while you met his humble glance as be put that card away, your countenance was so ma levolent as to be terrific. Thomas, I have heard of the envy of them that follows the Fine Art line, but I never believed it could be what yours is. I wish you well, but 1 take my leave of you. And if you should ever get into trouble through knifeing—or say, garroting—a brother artist, as I believe you will, don't call me to character, Thomas, or I shall' be forced to injure your case." Mr. Click parted from me with those words, and we broke off our acquaintance. I became enamored. Her name was Henrietta. Contending with my easy disposition, I frequently got up to go af ter her. She also dwelt in the neighbor hood of the Obstacle, and I did fondly hope that no other would interpose in thC way of our union. To say that Henrietta was volatile, is but to say that she was woman. To say that she was in the bonnet-trimming, is feebly to express the taste which reigned predominant in her own. She consented to walk with me. Let me do her the justice to say that she did so igen trial. "Lam not," said Henri etta, "as yet _prepared to regard you, Thomas, in any other light than as a friend ; but as a friend I am willing to walk with you, on the understanding that softer sentiments may flow." We walked. Under the influence of Henrietta's beguilements I now got Out of bed daily. I pursued my calling with an industry bofctre unknown, and it can not fail to have been observed at that period, by those most familiar with the streets of London; that there was a larger supply-- But hold ! The time is not yet come 1 One evening in October I was walking with Henrietta, enjoying the cool breezes wafted over Vauxhall Bridge. After sev eralslow turns Henerietta gaped4equent ly (so inseperable , froM woman is the love of exnitement),•and said, "Lot's go home by Grosvenor Place, Piccadilly, and We terloo"--docalities, I may state for the, information of the stranger and the for eigner, well known in London ) and the last a Bridge. CARLISLE, PA., FR "No. Not by Piccadilly, Henrietta," said I " And why not Piccadilly, for good ness' sake ?" said Henrietta. Could I tell her? Could I confess to the gloomy presentiment that over shad owed me? Could I make myself intelligi ble to her ? No. "I don't like Piccadilly, Henrietta." "But I do," said she. "It's dark now, and the long rows of lamps in Piccadily after dark are beautiful. I will go to Piccadilly I" Of course we went. It was a pleasant night, and there were numbers of people in the streets. It was a brisk night, but not too cold, and not damp. Let me dark ly observe, it was the best of all nights— FOR THE PURPOSE. As we passed the garden-wall of the Royal Palace, going up Grosvenor Place, Henrietta murmured, "I wish I was a Queen !" "Why so, Henrietta ?" "I would make you Something," said she, and crossed her two hands o❑ my arm, and turned away her head. Judging from this the softer senti timents alluded to above had begun to flow, I ad:lpted my conduct to that belief Thus happily we passed on into the de tested thoroughfare of Piccadilly. On the right of that thoroughfare is a row of trees, the railing of the Green Park, and a fine broad eligible piece of pavement. "0 my !" cried Henrietta, presently. "There's been an accident !" I locked to the left, and said, "Where, Henrietta ?" "Not there, stupid," said she. "Over by the Park railings. Where the crowd is ! 0 no, it's not an accident, it's some thing else to look at ! What's them lights?" She referred to two lights twinkling low among ..the legs of the assemblage: two candles on the pavement. "0 do come along I'' cried Henrietta, skipping across the road with we; I hung back, but in vain. "Do let's look !" Again, designs upon the pavement. Centre compartment, Mount Vesuvius go ing it (in a circle), supported by four oval compartments, severally represent ing a ship in heavy weather, a shculder of mutton attended by two cucumbers, a golden harvest with distant cottage of proprietor, and a knife and fork after na ture ; above the centre compartment a bunch of grapes, and over the whole a rainbow. The whole, as it appeared to we, exquisitely done. The person in attendance on these works of art was in all respects, shabbi ness excepted, unlike the former person. His whole appearance and manner de ❑oted briskness. Though threadbare, he expressed to the crowd that poverty had not subdued his spirit or tinged with any sense of shame this honest effort to turn his talents to some account. The writ ing which formed a part of his composi tion was conceived in a similarly cheer ful tone. It breathed the following sen timents : "The writer is poor but not de spondent. .To a British 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 Public he £s d. appeals. Honor to our brave Army And also 098 7 0 5 432 1 to our gallant Navy. Barrows STRIKE the ABCDEFG writer in common chalks would be grateful fur any suitable employment HOME ! II ulutAii!" The whole of this writing appeared to me to be exquisitely done. But this man, in one respect like the last, though seemingly hard at it with a great show of brown paper and rubbers, was only really fattening the down-stroke of a letter here and there, or blowing the loose chalk off the rainbow, or toning the outside edge of the shoulder of mutton. Though he did this with the greatest con fidence, he did it (as it struck me) in so ignorant a manner, and so spoiled every. thing ho touched, that when ho began upon the purple smoke from the chimney of the distant cottage of the proprietor of the golden harvest (which smoke was beautifully soft) I found myself saying aloud, without considering of it : ri "Let that alone, will you ?" !" said the man next me in the crowd, jerking me roughly from him with his elbow, "why didn't you send a telegram ? If we had known you was coming, we'd have provided something better for you. You understand the man's work bettor than he does himself, don't you ? Have you made your will ? You're too clever to live long." "Don't be hard upon the gentleman, Sir," said the person in attendance on the. works of art, with a twinkle in his eye as he looked at me, "he may chance to be an artisthimself. If so, Sir, he will have a fellow-feeling with me, Sir, when I" he adapted his action to his words as he went on, and gave a smart slap of his hands between-each touch, working him self all the time aboutend about the com position—"when I lighten the bloom . of my grapes—shade off the orange in my rainbow—dot the i of my Britons—throw a yellow light into my sow-cumber—in sinuate another morsel.of fat into , my shoulderof mutton—dart another , zigzag. flash of lightning at my ship in distresel" He seemed to do this so neatly, and was so nimble aboutit, that the halfpenee came flying in., \ "Thanks, generous public, thanked" said the professor. • "You will stimulate me to further exertions. My name will be found in the list of British Painters DAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1865. yet. I shall do better than this, with en couragement. I shall indeed." "You never can do better than that bunch of grapes," said Henrietta. "0 Thomas, them grapes I" "Not ,better than that, lady ? I hope for the time when I shall paint any thing but your own bright eyes and lips, equal to life." "(Thomas, did you ever?) But it must take a long time, Sir," said Henrietta, blushing, "to paint equal to that" "I was prenticed to it, Miss," said the young man, smartly touching up the com position, "prenticed to it in the caves of Spain and Portingale, ever so long and two year over." There was a laugh from the crowd ;,and a new man who had Worked himself in next me, said,. "lie's smart chap, too; ain't ho ?" "And what a eye !" exclaimed Hen rietta, softly. ' "Ah ! He need have a eye," said the man. "Ab ! He just need," was murmured ,arnPug..the. crowd. . "He couldn't come that 'ere burning mountain without a eye," said the man. Ho had got himself accepted as an au thority somehow, and every body looked at his finger as it pointed out Vesuvius. "To come that effect in a general illumi nation would require a eye; it's to come it with two dips—why it's enough to blind him !" That impostor, pretending not to have heard what was said, now winked to any extent with both eyes at once, as if the strain upon his sight was too much, and threw back his lung hair—it was very long—as if to cool his fevered brow. I was wambing-hitu cluing it, when Hen rietta suddenly whispered, "0 Thomas, how horrid you ldok !" and pulled we out by the arm. Remen,bering Mr. Click's words, I was confused when I retorted, "What do you mean by horrid '!" "Oh gracious ! Why, you looked," said llenerietta, "as if you would have his blood." I'was going to answer, "So I would, for two-pence—from his nose," when I checked myself and remained silent. We returned home in silence. Every step of the way the softer sentiments that had flowed ebbed twenty mile an hour. tiaiiting my eonduct to the ebbing as I had done to the flowing, I let my arm drop limp, so as she could scarcely keep hold of it, and I wished her such a cold good-night at parting that I keep within the bounds of truth when I characterize it Ili a Rasp r. In the course of the, next day I received the following document : •'llenrietta informs Thomas that my eyes Are , rig•li to you. 1 must...ever wish you well, but walking awl its is ,itmarated by an un fartnable a10y, , . One c, malignant to sup— rionity—llll that Lail: at hint !—Vall never, Ile Vur ClPllthlet HENRIETTA. P. the altar." Yielding to the easiness of my disposi tion, I went to bed for a week after re ceiving this letter. During the whole of such time London was bereft of the usual fruits of my labor. When I resumed it I found that Henrietta was married to the artist of Piccadilly. Did I say to the artist ? What fell words were those, expressive of what a galling 1 ollowness, of what a bitter mock ery ! the artist. I was the real artist of the Waterloo-road, I am the only artist of all those pavement-sub jects which daily and nightly arouse your admiration. Ido 'em and I let 'em out. The man you behold with the papers of chalks and the rubbers, touching up the down strokes of the writing and shad ing off the salmon, the man you give the money to, hires—yes ! and I live to tell it !—hires those works of art of me, and brings nothing to 'em but the candles. Such is genius in a commercial coun try. lam not up to the shivering, lam not up to the liveliness, I am not up to the-wanting-employment-in an-office move; I am only up to - originating and executing the work. . In consequence of which you never see me you think you see.mo when you see somebody else; and that somebody else is a mere Commercial character. The one seen by self and Mr. Click in the Waterloo Road can only write a single word, and that I taught him, and it's MULTIPLICATION—which you may see him execute upside down, because he' can't do it the natural way. The one aeen by self and Henrietta by the Green Park railings can just smear into existence the two ends of a rainbow with his cuff and a 'rubber—if very hard put upon making a show—but he could no more come the arch of the rainbow, to save his life, than he could come the moonlight, fish, volcano, shipwreck, mut ton, hermit, or any of my most celebrated effects. To - conolude as I begani if .there's a blighted public character going, I am the party. And often as you have seen, do see, and will see, my Works, it's fifty thousand to ono if you'll ever see me, un n less, when the candles are burned, down and the Commercial character is gone, you should happeu to notice a , negleated young man perseVering,ly rubbing out the last traces, of tho 'piptures, so that nobody can renew the same. That's me. 'HIS PORPIART.E4IT. I.' Ma. Bi l X46n walked up and dawn TERMS:--$2,00 in Advance, or $2,50 within the year. his dining-room on the 31st of December, 1851, with the air and step of a man at peace with the world and pleased with himself. As he turned to and fro there was a little swing of exultation in his gait, which no friend (had there been any friend present to witness it) would have recognized as a trait peculiar to Mr. Blor age. On the contrary, he passed among his neighbors and acquaintance as a man of a modest and sciate temperament, and of an extreme good nature : so that those same friends and neighbors, full of the impudence of the world, often laughed at the former, and let no opportunity slip of taking advantage of the latter. But he was accustomed to be imposed upon.— In fact, it was his business, his vocation, to which he had been apprenticed from his earliest childhood. It is recorded by his nurse and mother that so amiable, so complacent a baby never was born. A faint whimper was the only complaint he made, after lying for hours in his cradle wide awake, with nothing but a damaged tassel to amuse him, as it swung to and•, fro-front •the era-- dle in the draught--which draught red dened his baby nose, and brought the water into hiS little weak eyes. As he grew up it became an established fact that Master Dick was to be washed first or last, taken out or left behind, give sugar plums or forgotten, as it happened tosnit the peculiar fancy of every other person rather than Master Dick himself, because he was so sweet tempered. Thus he weathered babyhood, encountered child hood, and rushed up into boyhood, is a pleasing and satisfactory manner to all parties, himself included. He never worried his mother by catching infectious diseases at wrong times ; he went through the necessary ailments of childhood-- such as measles, whooping-cough, and scarlatina—with the least possible degree of trouble to all parties concerned ; and caused no anxiety by having relapses or taking colds. If he cut his finger to the bone, no one knew of it unless any one chanced to notice the scar. If he fell into the river, ho scrambled out, and dried his own clothes by the convenient pro cess of airing them on his own body.— If lie fell off a tree, down a well, over a wall, he picked himself up and bore his burden of bruises with silent composure. In addition to these accomplishments, he bore any amount of other people's work, and seemed rather to enjoy being " put upon." IL was glad to be obliging, and " gave up" with quite as much zest as other natures about him delighted to '' take all.'' Once, and onoe only, did a slight attack of ill-temper and discontent assail him. llis father, without any pre vious notice. without the shadow of a consultation as to any faint bias on Dick's part, but just because " he was Dick, and would' be sure to do it, whether he liked it or not," placed him, at the age of six teen years, as the junior clerks, in a Bank. Now Dick was a country boy, born and brought up in truly rural fashion. His father having a small estate, farmed the greater part of it himself, and, being a practical man, did nothing by halves.— His children participated in all that he did, as much for their own benefit as for his. The boys were active young farm ers from the time they wore breeched ; and the girls reared chickens, and under stood the immaculate cleanliness of a dai ry before they could spell theirown names. So Dick's habits, and what little idiosyn crasy he had of his own, belonged wholly to the country. lie was up with the lark roaming over his father's premises, and lighting upon all sorts of charitable things to do. A brood of young ducks, alWays erratic, ob stinate, and , greedy, had squeezed their mucilaginous littlq bodies through noth ing, and were out on the loose, their vig ilant foster-mother, " in a fine frenzy," clucking within the shut-up pbaltry-house. It was Dick's business to open the door and give her lost ones to her cherishing wings ; and all the acknowledgment he got was an unmistakable indication on the part of the irritated mother that he alone had been the cause of the separation. He delighted to stagger,unddr a loud of fod der, taking, as high arid invaluable wages, the glad neigh of the expectant horse, or the gentle soft low of the cow. He ruslr• - od into the matutinal quarrel of the ban tam•cook and the great bubbley-jock; he coaxed with crumbs of bread the shy little pullets, and covertly threw handfuls of grain to the ostracized cockerels, who dared not so much as look upon a crumb Within sight of the proud monarch of the poultry-yard. Having meddled and messed in every thing that was going on, to the high de light of himself, if of nothing else, Dick would return to the house, brush and .clean himself with sarupillo,us exactness, and place himeell ready to receive his mother's' meriting kiss on, his cool, rosy, soap-shining cheeks: After that ho be gatt..the real business of the day; he nursed the baby, made the tea, out the , bread-and-butter,,administered it, adjust= oci quarrels, ran the messages, and -took what breakfast he could between When'ho had a' few moments he could call his own - reamed - about, saving young birds from remorseleSs kidnappers, reouing puppies and kitte;nsfrom.untiine ly fates, helping little maidens over high stleh and assisting old women to carry fagots of sticks, assuredly stolen from his father's hedge-rows. Dick possessed one harmless propensi ty—never to see a hill without paying it the compliment of running to the top of it in so many minutes, and speeding down to the bottom again in so many minutes less. He considered it a duty he owed to society at large, to be able to say in how short a time society could ap proach so much nearer to heaven. For these reasons, and a thousand such, Dick's dismay may be comprehend ed when he was suddenly required to exchange breezy hill-tops and flowery plains for the high stool, matching the higher desk, in a dusty cloudy cobwebby back Bank-office, in a close dull un savory street. Dick began a remonstrance. For the first time in his life there rose to his lips murmur of a complaint. The person upon whose ear the unwonted sound fell was his younger brother : called Wil liam by his gofdathers and godmothers, Bill by those who had no particular re gaid fur Thin, or he for them, and Billy by the fortunate posseSsors of what af fections he had. Generally obtuse to every thing that did not concern him self, he was visibly startled by the un wonted moan, and kindly said, under the shock of surprise : "Conic, come, old fellow! None of that." "But I don't like the Bank, Billy. I am unhappy; I think I am dreadfully unhappy; the smell of the place makes me sick; I get the cramp in my legs front sitting on that high stool ; I am as nervous—" "Hold hard, Dick ; I won't have you say another word. How dare you talk like that to me ?" "My dear Billy— " Don't dear Billy me. When you know as well as I do, that if you don't stay at the Bank 1 shall have to go there :" " Oh dear !" ejaculated Dick. " Oh dear !" mimicked the fast young er brother. " I wonder you have the heart to hint an objection, Dick—espe cially knowing, as you do, Low you hate the Bank. Endangering your own broth er ! And you setting up for being a good natured fellow, too l" Dick said no more, but manfully bore up against smells, cramps, nerves and headaches, with the mental comfort and consolation, "11Ow lucky poor dear Billy is saved all this!" Time worked its own cure, and he ex perienced in hie own person the truth of that well-established maxim, " Habit be comes second nature." He exercised his peculiar vocation by doing a great deal of other people's work besides his own ; by cherishing solitary and forlorn-looking spiders , assisting flies out of a persistent search into ink-bottles ; and being gen erally kind hearted to every thing and every body. He was universally liked, though vast ly imposed upon ; still, upon his gradual elevation, in course of timg, from junior of the juniors to head of all, there was no a voice but his own that hazarded doubt on the fitness bf the election. He was a little uncomfortable himself least he should have taken a place one of the others might have coveted or better deserved. At last assured that his abilities and position warranted the choice, Dick re signed himself to being entirely happy, and as a fall essential to a state of bliss in love. That his choice should light on one profoundly unlike himself was perfectly natural; a young lady of much beauty and many wants being exactly the being to appear angelic in Dick's eyes. Had• she been possessed of brains, or of suffi cient capacity to see into the depths of Dick's moat honest heart, ehe might have ruled there, queen and wife, and her domestic kingdom would have ennobled her in all eyes; but,like splay ful kitten,_ incipient cruelty lurked in her prettiest ways. Her character may be inferred from the answer she gave Dick when be tendered her his all. " Indeed, Mr. Richard, you are very good 1 How. you have surprised me ? I never thought you really eared a bit for me. I laughed and chatted cause, as we all said, Mr. Richard Blor ago was so good.natured." " Good-natured to you, Ellen I Oh 'Heaven I could you read nothing more in my devotion ? Not the deepest, strong est, most enduring love ?" " You quite amaze me, Mr. Richard I Where have you kept these feeli so long '1" ",Oh, Ellen Do not trifle with me !" "No I Not for world's, Mr. Blorage I lam no flirt. lam a frank creature, and always will be." "I thought—l hoped—oh, Ellen!— I would not have dared to 'opeak thus, and lay bare my heart before you, had . you not encouraged—" • ." Now, Nu : . Richard, don't say that, I beg'! lam sure lam above that. Be. sides, mamma wishes me to marry rather high. She wishes me to set my younger sisters a - good- example andindeed papa hai said to me .more than 'once • that be would,nover ',suffer , me' to . marry a ban ker's clerk." Two years! 1 may bo married long before that. Come, AU. liiehard ) don't bo oast down. We ono always be the best of friends ?" " And my wife, Ellen ?" • "Oh dear noI I really wonder you could think of such athing—so good natured, as you are. Pray don't tease me any more." Poor Dick's tender heart swelled and throbbed with many tender emotions; but he really was too good-natpred to let any angry or bitter thoughts divide it. He rallied his fluttering and bewildered senses, looked round for his hat (an article that always seems of great comfort to English men in difficulties), looked into it, and not finding a single word in it to help him out, wont away speechless with a single bow. It was a bow worthy of Sir Charles Grandison, and it was a far more natural bow than Sir Charles Grandison ever made. There was a quiet dignity in it, expressive of so much integrity and worth, that it even smote the little silly substi tute for a heart which had so mocked him with a stab of misgiving. Time, that never-failing plaster which heals so many wounds, came to Dick's aid. He derived a melancholy satisfac tion from working twice as hard as he had ever done before. He was at that ones odious office before the doors were opened, and sat on his high stool for hours at a stretch, regardless of cramp. From al ways being a compassionate and good natured fellow be became morbidly so; appearing to regard the whole of his ac quaintance as victims to unrequited love, upon whom it was essential he should ex pend a vigilant care of the most forbear ing and affectionate nature. Not even the fast, worldly wise opinion of \\Tilliam, Bill, or Billy could make him think he was an ill-used man. "She's a flirt, and no mistake. I saw through her long ago, Dick. I always said she would jilt you." " Yourwrong her, William—you deeply wrong her. She was right in her decis ion. She deserved a better fate than to be the wife of a banker's clerk." NO, 6. " Pooh, pooh ! Ha, ha ! Why, you have a share in the firm already, and may call yourself banker at once, and I hope to tho Lord you will soon get rich. It will be devilish comfortable, Dick, always to be able-to turn to you when one wants five or ten pounds." "Do you want a little money now, Bil- ly? I have no occasion to hoard money." "The very thing I de want, my dear fellow. I never was so hard up. I say! It's a great comfort to me, Dick, that you didn't marry that simpleton of a girl." - " Hush, Bill." " Well, it's a very good thing for your self, then. I'll swear she was a screw." " Forbear, Bill." " Well, it was an uncommon good thing, for her, then." "That is my only consolation," sighed the good Dick, as he handed his brother a bundle of notes, which, true to business habits, be carefully counted over twice." "Twenty-five pounds; thank ye, Diek." Bless us! Idr. Blorage has been a long we walking.up and down that dining- room of his. had the volatile Elle❑ at last relented let he walked up and down with that elastic step 1 No, no. She had married within six months of blighting Dick— had married an Honorable by name, if not by nature; but the tide being of much more consequence than the fact there is no need to inquire further. If Dick's prayers could mako her happy she was supremely blest. No. 111 r. Blorage was excited, because he was dining in his own new, substanti ally built, elegantly furnished, luxurious ly ornamented, house—a house that had been pronounced perfect—a gem of a house—a house that only wanted one more thing to be absolute perfection. He was dining in it for the first time, and he had (though naturally a sober man), under the pressure of such an extreme circumstance, drank success to it, and health to himself, just about once too often. Hence thought was running riot in his brain like an ex press engine gone mad. Here was he, at the good and pleasant age of thirty-five, an independent gentleman, with fifteen hundred a year, honestly made, and safe ly deposited in the only bank that never breaks—her Majesty's Consols. Besides, 'he still held a lucrative and independent position in the very Bank once so disa greeable to him. He was not a responsi ble partner, he was only the trusted con fidential manager. "For, as to parlner,. 'ships," thought Dick, "it would never do for me to lose my money through the speculations of others. I could not help Billy, or send little Maude to that first rate London school. As to my dear moth er, Old Grobus's legacy (I wonder why he left it to me ?) just fell in, in time to - make - her -- o - oinfortable." Diok had grown rich} nobody quite knew how. As he was always helping every one, perhaps ho realized the promise, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, and it shall return unto the a hundred-fold." He had made one or two fortunate spec ulations. He had been left a legacy, by old Grobua, a morose brother clerk, who had never given him a civil word when alive, but had bequeathed him all he died worth, remarking in his Will that "Rich ard Blorage, his 119iy,,,would . be sure to, spend _it better than he could." And Richard Blorage, first ascertaining that there wore no real heirs, had forthwith purchased one or two waste bits of land s because the owners wanted to sell 'them, and because no one but a good-natured fool would buy them. No sooner, how ever, did they beeenao Piol4 than t they, were invaluable. Thdrailway ran filtailfikt through them.; the, „laud was the very thing for •bnilding:'OrPos'ei; ailq j 'yih 4 tv was tileisinitietlitiequ, 'Oa Dick. Every'''OriC Said; . Biome right; he's a good fellow, and it's his duo." - „, And when he decided to build himself
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