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