NEW SERIES, VOL. I, No. 12.]
CHA.RRICK WESTBROOK,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
Printing Ogee—Front Street, opposite Barr's Hotel
Publication Office—Locust Street, opposite the P. 0.
TETON. —The Cot.maelA SPY is published every
Saturday morning at the low price of ONE DOLLAR A
YEAR IN ADVANCE, or one dollar and fifty cents, if
not paid within one month of the time of subscribing.
Single copies, THREE CENTS.
TERMS or AovewTlstao—Adverti■ements not exceed
ing a square three times for Si, and 25 cents for each
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portion. sta-A. liberal discount made to yearly adver
tisers.
Jos PAINTING —Such an Hand-bills, Posting-bills,
Cards. Labels, Pamphlets, Blanks of every description
Circulars, etc. etc., executed with neatnessand despatch
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For the Spy and Columbian.
PROSCRIBE NOT THY BROTHER.
Proscribe not thy brother:
His heart may be right,
Though his mind may be wandering
In error and night.
Proscribe not thy brother,
For freedom of thought
Is the gem which our forefathers
Fearlessly sought,
When, rending the fond ties
That bound them to home,
They unmoored the frail Mayflower,
Old ocean to roam;—
Then though ye may differ,
Proscribe not thy brother.
Although He was proscribed
Who said "Love one another!"
And when the red flag
Of proscription is dying,
The wrong may be strongest
And truth may be dying,
And "the land of the free
And the home of the brave"
Bee her stars set in blood
And be liberty's grave!
Proscribe not thy brother,
Whose heart may be right
Though his mind may be wandering
In error and night!
/Sept. 14, 1847.
THE DISOBEDIENT ONE.
A NOVEL.-By /AIM W. WARD
CHAPTER I.
—*Twao a rough olght.—Nacbeth
The storm howled horribly. The wind swelled
and struggled impetuously through the forest.—
The trees rocked and crashed together; and fire
and hail, and a horrible tempest poured madly from
the skies. Indeed the wild havoc of the hurricane
was terrible to witness. In a momentary pause of
the tumult, a voice was heard amid the uproar; a
voice of tear : a voice for help in the darkness.—
The cottager by the road aide heard the mysteri•
ous voice; his heart leapt at the cry, and he rushed
out into the storm. A blast of wind dashed the
pine brand from his hand in an instant; and he
stood alone without a guide in impenetrable dark.
ness. Again that voice of terror was heard amid
the tumult, and he pressed bravely to the rescue.
CHAPTER H
She says she will die if he love her nor; and she will
elle ere ehe will make her love known.—)lll;eh Ado.
"Light there!" cried the harsh voice of the
woodman. In an instant the pine brand from the
cottage door flashed in vermeil glare upon his tall
and swarthy figure. The light disclosed in his
arms the fainting form of a pale sweet maiden.—
Her dishevelled locks lay heaped in glossy ringlets
upon a neck of snowy velvet. Her eyes were closed,
her arms folded helplessly upon her bosom.
"O Charles!" she timidly articulated.
"Charles who?" replied the Forester, as he bore
his lovely burden into the cottage.
" Who are you, rough man 7" she exclaimed
slightly starting.
" Who's Charles. tender kitten 7" he rejoined.
"Oh, I cannot, must not tell."
"Pshaw !" you must."
"Oh, no, no, no,—do nut make me do that."
"I say ycu inuat,—perhaps I can—"
"It is"—she began—"Charles"—she paused—
. Charles"—she panted—. Charles"—ahe whisper
ed—"Charles"—she lisped—.Stuart"—she fainted.
CHAPTER 111.
Neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uneompaaslnnate pa.
Tees Gent. of Verona.
"You have broken her heart, Mr. 'Haring."
"Broken her fiddle.faddle ! She must learn
obedience, Mrs. Lawson."
"You cannot teach it by cruelty."
"Kindness in disguise, Madam. I seek her true
•
happiness."
"At the expense of her heart."
"Her heart must yield to her judgment."
"Against her inclinations, Mr. !Haring."
"She must have no inclinations ?"
"That is, she must have no heart."
"She don't want any."
"She will do something wrong. She'll leave
you."
"She shall not."
"You can't prevent it,"
"I will."
" You can't."
+'l shall."
CHAPTER IV
You are looked for. and called for, and asked for. and
sought for.—Ronaeo end Jr.het.
Mr. Maring in his dressing-gown and slippers,
paced his room fretfully. He was nervous and
irritated, Suddenly, with an excited jerk, he pull.
ed the bell-rope. His servant opened the door.
"Have word to Miss Julia, I wish to sea her be
fore she retires,"
Plea‘e your honor, her maid was just in the
kitchen to say, sir, that Miss Julia was--."
" Was what, sir 7"
" Was not, sir---"
"Not what, sir 7"
"In the house, sir."
"Then where is she, SIT 7"
"Can't say, your honer."
" Get me my coat and hat—send Thomas here—
THE COLUMBIA SPY
bring me the lantern—ring the bell—give me my
boots—bring my pistols—leave the room—quick,
air !"
"Please your honor, it storms."
"Let it—so will I !"
"It's furious, sir."
" So am I—begone !"
Pr'thee. takihint in thy arm.,
I overhear a plot of death upon him.—Kinil Lear
Crushed by the anguish of his despair, Charles
Stuart bowed his head upon the table in his solitary
room and meditated on the desperate scheme his
friend had proposed. The hurricane beat upon the
casement, but he heard it not.
"Oh, Julia!" he sighed; "beloved of my life!
sweet star in the gloomy horizon of my youth!
Why am I parted from thee ? 'Why do I pine for
the light of thy smiles? Why do our hearts suffer
thus 7 Must it bean? Shall we never be united 7"
"Never!" shouted a mad voice at the door, which
was flung suddenly open, and admitted Mr. Mar
ing, driven in by a thunder gust, that had left its
dark scowl upon his face.
" Where is she, villain 7 Where's my daugh
ter, scoundrel ? Speak, puppy! Don't look on me,
monkey ! Where is she, hound ? Speak, or I'll
blow you into dog's meat!"
"You'll L'.o nothing of the sort !" bawled a louder
voice at his back : as a strong arm felled him sense
iess on the floor. 'Twas the arm of the wood
man. Kicking over the table and lamp, he seized
the bewildered Charles by the waist, threw him
over his shoulders, and strode out into the storm,
aa if he were but bearing a hare from the hunt.
Let them Mem one another, for they love well."—•
linue henry VI.
In the woodmen's cottage was neither light nor
fire. All was dark and lonely. A light would
have disclosed a weeping maiden, in a melancholy
plight, seated on a low stool In a corner of the
apartment. She had committed a rash act, but love
had led the maiden front duty. She had no comfort
in her affliction—no hope for the future. Suddenly
the door flew open, and the cottager entered; and
threw into her arms the dripping form of the half
unconscious lover.
"Who's this?" lie exclaimed.
"Alas!" she moaned.
" Is it possible ?" he asked.
"Is it Charles?" she murmured.
" It is," he faltered.
"Am I not your Julia 7" she sighed.
"Oh, bliss unhooked for!" he whispered.
" Ah !" ■he sobbed.
CHAPTER VII.
Oh how the spring of love resembleth
Th• uncertain glory of an April day.
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun.
And by and by a cloud takes all away.
Two Gent. of Verona
The storm with its tumult had passed away.—
The early dawn dimly lighted the quaint columns
and high arches of the old chapel of Arnwood.—
The single undying candle burnt faintly before the
altar. The pious old priest knelt solemnly at his
devotions, while the happy Charles walked musing.
ly back and forth, awaiting impatienly the coming
of the bride. He had completed the arrangements
they had agreed upon. Presently she entered;
blushing in her beauty, and leaning on the arm of
the sturdy cottager who found her in the forest.—
She slowly approached the altar, and looked ten.
derly upon the bridegroom.
But she started back in affright.
"Good heavens!" said ho.
"Good gracious!" said she.
"What blunder is this ?" said he.
"Horrible!" said she.
"Some wretched mistake!" said he.
"You are not my Charles!" said she.
"Nor you my Julia !" groaned he.
"No!" she shrieked; and was carried out faint
ing in the arms of her unlucky preserver.
If I have too severe ly punished you. your compensa
tion makes amends."— 7'emput.
Mr. Maring sat despondingly in his study, his
head bound in flannel, his feet. on a cushion. Mrs.
Lawson entered good naturedly and sat down be.
side him.
"Was I not right, Mr. Maring 7"
Yee."
• You will be careful how you tern pt her again?"
" Yes."
"You have heard tho story ?"
"Yes."
"Ridiculous !"
o Y u. "
"She is very peninent."
" Yes."
"Will you see the other Charles now ?"
“Yes."
"And will also —"
"Yes."
"Then all will be well—and I will answer for
her discretion and prudence for the future. Sho
has had a valuable lesson."
"Yes."
Dr. Ure has invented a very simple and elegant
instrument for ascertaining the precise quantity of
absolute alcohol contained in any sample of fez.
mooted liquor, wine or spirit. 'rimy liquor is found
to contain only a small quantity of alcohol, at the
same time that it is known to possess a strong
tozicating power, the inference is that it Is drugged,
Hence the instrument will be found of great use to
the trader, as it is against the brewer, distiller or
compounder who supplies him, and also to the pub.
lic as against the trader, of whom they are the
customers.
We are informed that the notorious Maria Monk
is now an inmate of the State Prison at Sing Sing,
having been sent thither on a conviction for grand
larceny.—Brooklyn Advertiser.
AND LANCASTER AND YORK COUNTY RECORD.
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VIII
COLUMBIA, PA. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1847.
"SHOW YOUR TICKETS."
A RAILROAD SKETCH
I=l
On the rail cars between Albany and Buffalo,
the conductors are frequently changed, during a
single trip, and as each new one takes charge, he
announces himself in office by the exclamation—
" Show your tickets !"
On a night trip, recently, a testy old Yankee was
one of the passengers, and having exhibited his
ticket to the first conductor, he carefully placed it
In a well-worn pocket-book, buttoned it up in the
breast pocket cf his coat, pulled his hat tigthly on
his bead, and folding his arms, resigned himself to
the care of Morpheus. His nasal organ had scarce
ly proclaimed him in dream-land, before another
conductor came along, with—" Show your tick
ets!" The old Yankee awoke with a snort, and
having been made conscious of what was wanted,
he exclaimed—
" I reckon you don't want tew be seein' it all the
time, dew you?"
"Once will do me, sir," says the conductor.
" Well, you hey seen it that offm," replied the
old gent, "so you kin pass on."
The conductor insisted upon looking at it, and
the distubed passenger unbuttoned his coat, un
strapped the old pocket-book, handed out the ticket
and the conductor passed by.
"Them Cellars air mity afeard of gittin'
chissel
ed," says he, as, placing his ticket in his vest pock.
et, he again resigned himself to sleep.
The conductor, thinking lie had missed some of
the passengers, came back again presently, and
asked to see the tickets.
" What, "agin !" exclaims the old man; "well, I
mow, you are the most peskid bother I've ever
seed. Jest take a good look now, and hev done."
The conductor passed on again, and the old man
stuck his ticket in his hat-band, and this time got
fairly asleep. The motion of the cars in a short
time loosened his bat, and it toll off; which a sleep.
less wag in the cars perceiving, he picked up the
conductor's lamp, and approaching the old gent,
shouted in his ear—" Show your athets."
"Patience massy," says the old man, "ef here
ain't another of these ticket fellers," and then he
pulled out his pocket book, searched it, put it back,
felt in his vest pocket, but in vain. "You've got
it," says he ; " I gin it tew you, I know. Here he
recollected sticking it in his hat-baud, and now com
menced a search for his head-piece. The hat, amid
the shuffling of the passengers' feet, had been kick.
cd along under several different seats. Alter a
busy search of some minutes, he thought he per
ceived it beneath a fat old lad's scat. In reaching
for it, he awoke her.
"What do you want 1" she inquired snappishly,
as even the most amiable old lady would do, when
awakened out of a sound sleep.
"I'm ony reachin' for my hat, marm," says he ;
"it's gut under your scat."
"I tell you 'taint," says she. "That's a nice
excuse to be coining feeling round a body with'
when they are asleep. I'!1 tell the agent, see if I
don't."
Why, good gracious, marnt," says he, "you
might sleep an age in the same bildin' with me and
I'd never dream of techin' you."
"You miglit'nt dream of doing so," said she,
but you ain't a bit too good to, PH be bound—
coming waking people up in the middle of the night
when they are all alone, (there were fifty in the
car) talking about a hat—why don't you git your
hat, if it's there and go away ; but I tell you 'taint
there, now, and that is enough, I think, for any rca.
sonable person—always a disturbing people this
way—why don't you take it, I say 7"
Thus commanded, the distressed old gent reach
ed under the seat at the dark-looking object, which
Le fancied was his hat, and the old lady's small pet
dog, which he caught hold of by the neck, seized
him in turn by the fingers, with a wum-u-wough
"Ow-ah cuss the consarned thing '."exclaimed
he ; why it's a little varmint."
"Now,' says the old lady, "I reckon you are
satisfied that it aint the kind of hat you are look•
ing for, and you can go somewhere else and search
for your old hat."
A jolt of the cars had nearly thrown him into her
lap, un which she gave a slight scream, and called
for protection.
"Perhaps this is your hat, sir," said the wag who
was personating the conductor, at the same time
handing him his chapeau, with the ticket safe in
the hat-band. With an exclamation of pleasure,
he seized it.
" Here take the consarned ticket, will you?" he
exclaimed, handing it out promiscuously ; but eve
rybody refused,
" Won't nobody hey it ?" he inquired.
" I vow to gracious I won't carry it anuther
minit."
.. Show your tickets !" exclaimed the conductor
entering, to which he added—" We are at Auburn.
gentlemen."
Here, take it," says the old Yankee, in a high
state of excitement; " I'd jest ruther be locked up
in your dod-rotted old jail here than travel by night
in these wagging. A man's eternally showing his
ticket—runnin' agin cross dogs, or what's an all.
fired sight wuss. cross old wimen !"
As he leaped from the car his waggish tormentor
shouted after him, "Show your tickets!"
"Dorn your tickets and the hull Win' on you,"
Le shouted back, as, making tracks for the hotels
he disappeared in the darkileu.—St. Louis Rev.
At a lecture last month delivered at the London
u Western Institution," on the Qualities and Uses
of Ices, a remarkable object in the room was a
model castle, with towers and battlements complete,
the whole raised of chemically created ice.
A CARAVAN FROM TIIC SELKIRK SETTLEMENT.-
On the 10th of July there arrived at the village of
St. Paul, near St. Peters and the Falls of St. An
thony, on the upper Mississippi, the most novel and
original caravan that has ever appeared since Noah's
ark was evacuated. Our readers are aware of that
there is an isolated settlement of several thousand
inhabitants in a high latitude of British North
America, known as the "Selkirk Settlement." Cnt
off from the commerce of the world, they rely
entirely upon their own resources, their farms, their
flocks, and fishing for support—being a community,
so to speak, of Robinson Crusoes. Their crops hay.
ing failed the two last seasons, they have been
forced to break out of the wilds again and seek
food in the market of the great brawling world.—
Fomerly their chief point of contact with com
merce, was at Toronto ; but now, owing to the
increase of supplies on the Upper Mississippi,
and the abundance of game and forage on that route
they trade at St. Paul, the head of steamboat naviga
tion on the Mississippi river. Into St. Paul they
came, on the 10th of July, a caravan of one hundred
and twenty carts, in single file, wearily moving
along by moonlight. Long after the head of the
caravan had reached the village, the lengthened
train of followers could be seen moving over the
undulating prairie, partially visible and partially hid
den, between the billowy ridges of the extended
plain, crawling onward like some huge serpent, the
extreme rear still invisible and partily hidden in
the dimness of the distance. They had travelled
southward over the prairie six hundred miles, hay.
ing been nineteen days on their way, through a
region abounding in buffaloes—encamping at night
in a tent around which the carts were arranged in
a circle, to fence in the cattle. They were hindered
considerable in crossing some of the streams—and
in many places found a scarcity of fuel, and even
the dry excrement of the buffalo, which they use for
fuel. They often suffered for want of watex—as
many of the similar streams were so strongly im
pregnated with the excrement of the buffalo to be
unwholesome. They brought along a large elk, a
a bear and some other animals, which they had
captured on their way—and many packages of furs.
They had a very choice lot of buffalo robes, well
dressed, which they sold at St. Paul by the lot at
$3.50 each.
They had with them also an abundance of specie;
they waited a few days at St. Paul, for the arrival
of a steamboat load of flour and groceries. The
caravan was made up of men and boys of all ages,
kindreds, tongues and complexions, including a
large proportion of Gumbos. Their dresses were
as various as could be imagined, being uniform in
only a single article of apparel—all wore moccasins.
The carts were made wholly of wood and hides,
the hubs being covered with bandages of green
hides, drawn on while soft, and there shrinking
until they become nearly as tight as bands of iron.
Some of these odd two-wheeled vehicles were drawn
by little horses, and others by oxen, each animal,
horse or ox, being geared in a harness of green
hide. They arc now again on their way back to
the frozen wilds of the north, many of them prob
ably never again to communicate with the great
world.—Wisconsin (Grant Co.) Herald.
Ftsinso.—We have so often objected to fishing,
as an amusement, and have shuddered so sincerely
as our friends recounted their exploits in this line,
that we were rather pleased to meet, in the
" Youth's Cabinet," a most capital, sensible, lively
little periodical, for children, edited by our correa.
pondent, the Rev. F. C. Woodworth, a defence of
the art, less quaint and recondite, certainly, than
the logic of Izaak Walton, but home-put and ap
plicable. "This business of fishing, once in a
while, is not a very disagreeable employment to
me. I like it. What is the use of mincing the
matter 1 Ido take not a little delight in introduc.
ing a mammoth black-fish, for instance, to a new
element. It has been objected, that the fish them
szlves are not parti.il to these introductions. Very
like. But if they should happen to escape the
fisherman, they would probably fall into the jaws
of some greedy shark or other. Besides, it is a
part of their business to thin out the ranks of the
smaller fish. And I want to know—since it is
mercy that people talk so much about—why we
can't afford a little mercy for the lower classes?
Look at the aristocracy of the thing. How does
it come to pass that a great fish is so much more
deserving of mercy than a little one 1 • * • •
I contesa I should not take so much delight in fish
ing, if I believed that the victims of my powers of
persuasion had all those delicatesensibilities which
people ascribe to them. Ido not believe they have.
The fish is very low in the scale of animal life.—
What angler of any experience has not caught the
same sun.fish twice within a couple of minutes ? *
* * Somo years ago two young gentle
men were fishing in a lake, and their stock of bait
became exhausted. They then picked out the
eyes of the dead perch, and baited their books with
them. They caught several fish in this manner.—
One of the fish so caught atrgguled so much, as
they were taking off the hook, that by some acci.
dent the hook took out one of its eyes, while the
fish escaped into the water. The hook, with this
bait . upon it, was thrown into the water, and in a
few minutes ihs fugitive was caught again, having
taken his own eye for a bait. What do you think
of that, Mr. Philanthropist • • a On
the whole, there ■re many kinds of amusement
current in this world that are much less innocent
than that of angling. So thought the pious old
Walton, two hundred years ago." We are quite
obliged to Mr. Woodworth for meeting some of our
scruples, and shall read the new edition of Wal.
ton's Complete Angler with new relish. :Next
month we intend to ask the reader how lie likes
Walton, and to give him our own opinion. This
month of September is the time to read him.
Mtss Dia.—This benevolent lady has succeeded
in persuading the legislature of Illinois to make
provision for a State Lunatic Asylum. The Chi
cago Tribune tells an anecdote which strikingly
shows her own power over insane people. It re
lates to the founding of a similar institution in
Providence:
"The Legislature of Rhode Island had pledged
a certain sum for the object, on condition that 70,-
000 should be made up by the contributions of the
benevolent. It is the custom of Miss Dix to make
personal applications to wealthy individuals whose
hearts are supposed to be pervious to the appeals
of 'melting charity.' There was an old fellow in
this case, a citizen of Providence, who was known
to possess an abundance of money, but he was
equally noted for crabbedness of manners, and for
the tenacity with which he clung to his worldly
gear. Miss Dix announced her intention of mak
ing an experiment upon his sensibilities, but her
friends endeavored to dissuade her from the under
taking, assuring her that there was not the least
chance of success, and that in all probability she
would not even be treated with civility. But she
determined to go, and went. She knocked at the
old miser's door, was admitted and immediately
stated the object of her visit. He was unusually
courteous, but still evaded the main question, and
endeavored to turn the coversation to other subjects.
But Miss Dix would not allow him to wander, all
the time urging such considerations as she thought
best adapted to touch him on the right spot. Fi
nally he got a little impatient and exclaimed half
pctulently, What would you have, madam?' She
tapped him confidently on the shoulder and replied,
forty thousand dollars r The old man moved—
he paced the floor in agitation—but suddenly stop.
ping before Miss Dix, he said, 'You shall have it.'
And he was as good as his word. The projectors
of this noble institution have to thank the reputed
miser for 840,000 of the 870,000, which it was in
cumbent upon them to raise."
A NOVELTY IN SCELPTEILE.—The London Specta
tor, in describing a piece of statuary which has
been exhibited in this city, the work of Raffaelle
Monti, speaks of the wonderful execution of the de
sign as follows :—"The effigy of a veiled Vestal
tending the everlasting flame is a curiosity in sculp
ture—a feat of art. The figure is the size of life;
it is clothed in a robe, and a veil thrown over the
head envelopes the face, shoulders, and parts of the
arms; this veil is transparent. Not merely do you
discern the covered forms where they actually swell
out and touch the veil but you think you con see
through the veil undernearth the full and delicately
finished features of a most beautiful face; you can
detect the retreating curves of the profile and swel
ling forms of the lips, with a space between that
softly but crisply rounded flesh and the covering
gauze. You are deceived. Working in transpa
rency of the marble with cunning skill, the sculp
tor so arranged the thinness and thickness of his
material that the refracted lights suggest the forms
beneath, which arc not carved. The artist has
chiselled the outward form of the veil, and in doing
so has painted the veiled face in the light and
shade glancing through the marble. He calls it
uno stnerzo, and it is so; but it is much more so—
it is a very beautiful figure."
ENE=
ROMANCE IN REAL LlFE.—About twelve years ago,
a young gentleman, whose name we forbear to men.
tion, residing in an interior county of Kentucky,
became smitten--as falling in love is usually term
ed—with the daughter of a wealthy merchant,
His love was requited by the fair and lovely girl.
but the young man being poor, without influence,
and having nothing to depend upon but his own
industry and resolution, his suit was looked upon
with favorless eye by the wealthy father. In a
moment of chagrin and disappointment, the proud
youth left the home of his childhood—and twelve
years rolled by, during which time no word was
heard of him. He went to the West Indies, a pen.
nyless adventurer, and one month since returned
home, the possessor of an immense fortune. In the
mean time, the father of his beloved bad failed, and
died a poor broken hearted man, leaving his wife
and daughter dependent upon the cold charities
of the world. Yet in poverty, as well as in wealth,
the two lovers had remained faithful to their youth.
ful vows, and two days after the return of the wan.
derer, he led his long cherished idol io the Hyme.
ncal altar. How beautiful, in a. cold, heartless
world, like this, is the fidelity of two such hearty :
Cincinnati Chronicle.
FM@
AIR LINE RAILROAD.—The charter, as amended
at the last session of the Connecticut Legislature,
authorises the Company to organise when 8500,000
is subscribed. Of this amount 8336,000 have al.
ready been subscribed in Middletown and vicinity.
We understand that books are soon to be opened,
with a view to procure 8150.000 or 8200,000 ad.
ditional, to enable the company to organise without
delay, which for several reasons is deemed import.
ant. The stock of the Massachusetts section is
already taken. From the south.westcrn termina
tion of that section, at or near Blackstone, to New
Haven, is 84i miles; the whole cost of which,
including equipments, according to the estimates
of engineers, will be 82,638,000. We are further
intinmed on good authority that recent explorations
and surveys have established the fact that no grade
on the whole line need exceed .50 feet to the mile.
and that only two miles will come up to that.—N.
Y. Jour. Com.
"Halloo, steward," exclaimed a fellow in the
steamboat, after he bad retired to bed ; " Halloo,
steward l"
" What, mass& f"
" Bring me the way-bill."
" What for, maw."
I want to see if these bed bugs put down their
names for this birth before I did; if not, I want 'em
turned out."
WHOLE NTmIBER. 903
ANOTHER STRANGE WiLL—An eccentric gentle
man of Philadelphia lately deceased, left behind
him an odd testament in the shape of a will, from
which the following is said to be an extract
"Whereas, my daughter refused me a night's
lodging in her house when I had no place of abode,
I therefore leave her one cent, and to her henpeck
ed husband, half a cent, as a man who allows bin
wife to insult her father in hie presence, is no man.
To my other children I recommend a perusal of the
Fifth Commandment. To my mother•in.law, I be.
queath six cents, provided she buys therewith a hal
ter to hang herself, for having swindled the Elect
out of a gold watch she wears, under the pretence
of benevolence and Christian conduct and behavior."
/e•-•1,14,*
Oir. or Szoszs.—"Sermons in stones" we had
heard of before, but it remained for the French In
stitute to enlighten the world by means of a " min.
eral oil" obtained from the mines of Autun. We
arc told that this remarkable liquid has many
valuable qualities; among the rest, that of not
staining by contact, and of yielding, a remark
ably clear and steady flame. This shows that
the manufacture has yet to reach the highest
pitch, and also that the oil is adapted to wicked
purposes. May it not be a mere figure after all,
this oil? Perhaps some miserly Autunnoie, out of
whose flinty heart none could ever squeeze one dr.
of pity, finding his lamp expiring, and himself in
need of extreme unction, has endowed a hospital,
or granted a supply of butter in perpetuity, to a
neighboring orphan asylum. Possibly, though
hardly so, some wealthy publisher, feeling corn.
punctious visiting at the last, has left proportionate
sums for the relief of the various authors by whose
labors he grew rich. In any point of view the story
is a remarkable one.— Union Magazine.
AN HONEST FELLOW, TRULY.-A good man—he
must have been conscientious (and verdant also)—
residing in the country, and employed as a sort of
agricultural laborer, having contrived to scrape to.
gether fifty dollars, took it to his employer, with a
request that he would take charge of it for him.—
The request was complied with. The year rolled
round ; and the laborer applied to another friend to
know what would be the interest upon it. Re was
told three dollars. "Nell," said he, "I wish you
would lend me three dollars for a few days. My
boss has been keeping fifty dollars for ne, fur a
year, and I ?cant to pay him the interest for it."—
This is true.
=IL=
The Spanish Bondholders wish England to go
'.o war to recover their debts. We certainly think
the S. B.'s should be paid, and paid in full, but then
we do not see why we should fight their battles.
We c.in only remind them of a celebrated line,
which doubtless they have heard before, which
commences by asking " Hereditary Bondsmen" if
they would be free;—and concludes by telling them,
if that is their desire, that they " themselves must
strike the blow"—only probably the Hereditary
Bondsmen of Spain would get moro if they were to
strike a docket!—Punch.
EULICATION.—It is objected of many of our
"finishing schools" that their,finishing is totally ir.
respective of any beginning. Young ladies revel
in thc ologies before they can write a decent letter ,
and learn, the polka before they can spell poker.—
How many dainty crow-quill notes are dated
"Tuesday," and if any occurrence is to be corn.
municated, call it " melancholly news." But peo.
plc have very different views of education. The
other day, in a steamboat, we heard a lady, who was
coaxing a. refractory varlet, vellisper, "If you'll be
a. gnod boy, you shall kill a chicken when we get
home."
==2
ADVICE OF Comvsm..—There is a well known
custom prevailling in our erhninal courts, of as
signing counsel to such prisoners as have co one
to defend them. On one occasion, the Court find.
ing a man accused of theft and without counsel,
said to a lawyer who was present.
"Mr. please to withdraw with the pri
soner, confer with him, and then give him such
counsel as may be best for his interest."
The lawyer and his client then withdrew, and in
fifteen or twenty minutes the lawyer returned into
court.
" Where is the prisoner ?" asked the Court.
" He is gone your honor," said the hopeful legal
limb. " Your honor told me to give him the beat
advice for his interest, and, as he said he was guilty,
and I thought the best counsel I could offer him
was to 'cut and run' which he took at once."
CURIOUS CurcuerraNcE.—A short time since,
while a little child of a gentleman of this place was
playing in the yard, it was suddenly attacked by a
large rooster and severely injured. The rooster
struck it in the head with his spurs, cutting through
its cheek and making other deep gashes on its face i
it also picked the child's head and breast, and
would probably have killed it, if the father had not
fortunately happened to come into the yard in time
to rescue it. The rooster was immediately killed.
—Old Colony Rep.
Etrc-rato Vittocirv.—lt has been stated, and
generally understood, that electricity in high tension
travels at the rate of ttoo hundred and eighty thou
sand miles in a second of time—that this is the
probable velocity of communications by the mag
netic telegraph. Bat from recent observations it
appears most probable that no space of time what.
ever is required in the passage of the telegraphic
current from one station to another, whatever the
distance. The induction of the fluid at one end of
the wire produces eduction at the other at the same
instant.
&The nicest Fourth of July toast we have seen
this year, was the following, given at a ce l e b ra ti o n
in Ohio, by J. L. Baker: Our country-women—
may their bract-works ever afford a shelter to the
American infant-ry."