Newspaper Page Text
NEW SERIES, VOL. I, No. 19.]
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
Printing Office—Front Street. opposite Darr'e Hotel
Publication Office—Locust Streetoripposite the P. 0.
Tiara.—The Cosvienia Syr is published every
Saturday morning at the low price of ONE DOLLAR A
YEAR IN ADVANCE, or one dollar and fifty cents, tf
not paid within one month of the time of subscribing.
Single copies. THREE CENTS.
Tawas or ADV LATISI No—Advertisements not exceed
leg a square three times for Si. and 25 cents for each
additional insertion. 7 hose of a greater length In pro
portion. OA liberal discount made to yearly adver
JOB PAINTING—Such as Hand-bills, Posting-bills.
Cards. Labels, Pamphlets, Manna of every description
Circulare,etc.etc.,executed with reatnessanddespatch
and on reasonableternm.
FIRE! FIRE!! FIRE!!!
el J. TYNDALE, No. 97, South Second
j. Street, Philadelphia, wishes to inform
his friends and the public generally, that he
still continues to manufacture and sell the gen•
nine Air-Tight Stove, with the latest improve
After many years experierce in the manu
facture of these Stoves, he is now enabled to
offer to Ins customers the Air-Tight Stores
with ovens, suitable for dining rooms or nur
He has also the Air-Tight Stove, on the Ra
diator plan, which makes a splendid and
economical parlor Stove, to which he would
call the particular attention of those who want
an elegant and useful article for their parlors.
Also, a large assortment of Coal, Parlor and
Cooking Stoves. All of which he will sell at
the lowest Cash prices. The public would do
well to call before purchasing elsewhere.
10 - Nlr. T. would Caution the public against
Air-Tight Stoves, made by most Stove makers,
as they do not answer the purpose intended.
Philadelphia, Sept. 18th, 1847-2 m.
B. E. MOOR?.
MOORE & RISDON,
No. 70 South Third Street, nearly opposite the
RESPECTFULLY announce to their friends
and the public that they are constantly pre
pared to make to order. of the finest and best ma
terials. and nt moderate prices, every article of
Fashtonaole Clothing. constituting a Gentlman's
Wardrobe, for which their complete stock of choice
and carefully selected Cloths, Cassimeres, Vestings
&c., of the latest and most desirable patterns, are
Their own practical knowledge of the business
and a personal attention to every garment, enables
them to give entire satisfaction, end to both old and
new customers they respectfully tender an invitation
to give them a call.
Haying been her years connected with seine of
the best and 17109 t fashionable establishments in tills
country, employing none but first rate workmen.
and being In the receipt of the latest lashions, and
best styles of goods. they arc fully prepared to ac
commodate customers an the best manner.
ri it tadsholia. 1 ngust 14. 1817.—Gm
GLOBE HALL OF FASHION,
No. 5:96, Market Street, Philadelphia.
4rll.oTliiN G—A necessary arid useful a t irle ;
11,_, it ohll becomes every one who buys it, before
purchasing to look and sec where it can be bought
cheapest. I am satlefied (and reader, you will
he) if you favor me with a cell arid look over my
stock of goods you will not only buy yourself but
tell your friends is here
esn be had and they will do the same. Jr you
come to the Globe Hall of Fashion and do nut
find goods twenty per cent cheaper than titans store
in the city I think you ts 11l say General Taylor
never whipped the Mexicans l I think he never
done anything else.
gTA full stock of clothing suited for the
country trade, which merchants and others are
particularly invited to examine.
No. 296, Market St., 3rd door below Ninth.
Philadelphia, August 28,1817.-3 in.
Agency of the Canton
The undersigned being the authorized
gents for the sale of the SUPERIOR
1 154i.4.,TEA5, imported by the Canton Tea
Company, of the city of New Yok, invite a
trial of their Green and Black Teas, embrac
ing the best selections this side of China.
Every Package ‘Varrented.
J. D. & J. MUG RT.
Columbia. April 7, IS47.—tf
Agency of the
PEKIN TEA COMPANY.
- THE SUBSCRIBER keeps const mtty
Irl.-ww , on hand an nasortmei.t of Fresh Teas. in) .
',„.,lic''`'7.4 3 porled by the Pekin Tea company. A 1 ,3 ,
' , r
Teas sold by me that does not gave entire Wis•
taction, ein he returned and exchanged, or the
money will be refunded.
Locust street, Columbia, I'a•
P. S 4 REIN ER has removed
his ‘Nr 41TC:11 and JEWEL
'. LERY Establishment to the
WALNUT FRONT 13i.cx. recently fitted up by
him, between Barr's and Black's Hotel, Front
Street, where the public can be accommodated,
as heretofore, with all articles in the Jewel
lery line, at. the cheapest rates.
Columbia, July 17, 1847.—tf.
N Election for thirteen Directors for the
ll_ Columbia Bank and Bridge Company,
will be lield at the Banking nonce in Columbia,
on Wednesday the 10th day of November next,
between the hours of ten and four.
Oct. 2d,—le Cashier.
Lancaster Examiner & Herald, and Union
& Tribune, please copy.
T GORING GLASSES or all sites and at re-
I L A duced prices. For sale at
COC2'47 FRY & SPANGLER'S.
FRENCH WORKED COLLARS.
LATEST style French needle work collars,. for
sale et FRY & SPANGLER'S.
n VER 1000 different styles entire new patterns
of Lacat-s' Dress Goods, for Fall and Winter.
High colored plaids are all the rage. Call at the
Sept.24—t( BEE HIVE North Quun st.
THE COLUMBIA SPY
THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH
What mean the miles of gleaming wire,
Stretched mil afar o'er hill and plain,
As if tnstrnig some mailaive lyre
To ring outearth'a redeeming strain,
It Is a lyre, whose every string,
Shall vibrate to the prom of man--
Such tribute to his genii's tiring,
Ae ne'cr was made since time began
It is the masterpiece of Earth—
The climax of all future might—
Where num forgetful orb's bulb.
Infringes on Jehovah's right,
It is the path where lightning's fly.
Obedient to man'. lordly will,
Who forced them from their native sky.
And chained them down on every hill
Once they were messengers of Ood.
And flashed through heaven's remotest span,
But now they've left their high shod.,
To herald out the way. of man.
No more we'll trust the carrier dove,
Or Iron steed, or lagging gale,
But call the lightnings from above,
To spread the news and tell the tale
They faroutspeed the rolling Earth,—
And put the car of time aback,—
Ilefore the future has its instil.
'Tis past upon the spirit track.
That track—the great highway of thought—
Where distant nations convene bold—
E're word is said, or deed Is wrought,
'Tie whispered round and round the world
From east to west—from pole to pole—
. Wherever milli has pressed the sod—
The every thought of every soul,
Is omnipresent like as God,
It binds the nations all in one,
And thrills Its pulse throughout the union,
Till every kinirdorn, tribe and tongue,
Shall live and act In lull commnnion.
I. N. RISDON
TOMMY TICK, THE TALLY MAN
Who'a (tat knocking at the door 1
Reader! hest thou seen in London streets a
square.headed specimen of humanity, even of the
gender masculine—a very six feet of bad stuff—
having at his back a pack or bale some twenty
inches square, enveloped in a sable oil skin, which
he bearcth over his right shoulder suspended by a
serpentine stick or long staff? To the topmost left
hand buttembole of his blue coat is appended a
small vial containing black ink, and inc-third of
a grey goose quill ; while from the breast pocket
of the aforesaid coat creeps forth a greasy Lillipu
tian ledger of some two hundred pages, which arc
headed with the names of Simkins and Jenkins,
and Nills, Hills, Gills, Agas, Craggy, Bags, and
numerous others, who promise to pay for his rags.
Tommy Tick, the Tallyman, is not unfrequently
a native of Yorkshire (above two-thirds of his cus
tomers are " Yorkshire" too.) The contents of his
pack comprise paltry Paisly shawls, shickery
skirtings, sham silks, common calicoes, flannel
fag ends, and twenty other rare bargains, menu.
factored to tempt the admiring eyes of the wives of
the mechanics of England.
Tommy Tick, the Tallyman, is not a believer in
the scriptural axiom, " Knock, and it shall be open.
ed unto you ;" for the majority of his customers,
after they ate served, and served out, vote an
unanimons verdict of "serve him right," scorning
the text of Shakspear—
'• Open locks v. hewer knocks:"
The customers of Tommy Tick are divided into
several classes, viz : the dont.mean-to.pay-nor.nevcr
intended-lts ; the quite-willing-to-pay-but-nint-got.
its; the pawn-as•soon-as-they-get , its; the bounces.
ble-wishlou-may-get-its ;the never-at-home-its; the
my-husband's-in-the-country-its; and several other
species of diamond-cut-diamonds—who having
listened to the specious talc of Tommy Tick, and
paid one solitary instalment of Is. Gd. in consider
ation of goods received from Tommy and valued
at.. 1.32, immediately change their residence," leay.
ing not a wreck behind !"
The Tommy Tick tribe at present perambulating
London and its environs are, according to the most
accurate statistics, computed at 15,972 able-bodied
men, all ready to warrant anything—to stick ut
nothing—to bully anybody—to cheat everybody,
and to leave no means untried to obtain 50 per cent.
commission, and free admission to the home of the
mechanic after his dinner-hour has expired, and lie
is again gone to exercise his thews and sinews—
while his wile is employed in devising how to "raise
the wind" to procure a stand-alhalone.satin.
Tommy Tick may be found daily in the neigh
borhood of large factories and densely-populated
districts, "seeking whom he may devour," and
hunting for the silly wives amen enjoying perma
nent situations. He looks at the rcnt-hook—hc
inquires at the public house—he asks at the chand
ler's shop—or he is recommended to Mrs. Green by
Mrs. White, and pronounces himself perfectly sat
isfied. "To be sure, it would be as well for the
master to put his name down upon that card, but
that don't particular signify; and now, Mrs.
Green, is there anything here to snit you?—or
what do you require?"
He is never polite after the first visit. He peeps
at the keyhole, tries parlor windows, lifts latches,
" knocks at the door, kicks with his toe"—cross.
examines the shoeless brats, who essay, cecording
to order, to impede his progress in ascending the
stairs; but Tommy is not to be done (if be can
help it.) and having gained the summit of the stairs,
and the door of the back room on the fourth atom
he finds the dour locked, and, oh, sad mischance:
the key inside, visible from without! Then Tom
my Tick, the Tallyman, having discovered the
ruse, and being "Cold without," proceeds at once
to deliver a lecture, loud, long, and blasphemous,
o.lking much of transportation, policemen, county
court, swindlers, robbers, Ate., after which, having
threatened to burst open the room door, and inflict
summary punishment on the trembling feminine
occupant within, he thinketh that he had better
AND LANCASTER AND YORK COUNTY RECORD.
➢l' JAMES O. PEADODY
COLUMBIA, PA. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1847.
not. So the voice within having exclaimed, "Go
on, you have done nothing," he descends the stairs
slowly, his innate perception informing him that
he has been "done."
"Now after Timmy Tick has retired, the bed.
stead is removed from the door, the poker is again
replaced by the fire-side, Mrs. Smith emerges cau
tiously, and informs her fellow-lodgers " what a
foul she must ha' been to ha' left the key inside the
door, and wondering wherever the p'leesemen could
ha' been, whose aid she had been imploring diz
ackelly twenty minutes from the four pair back
window, which looks out into the garden."
The very first lie of any importance taught to
the children of the poor is, "Mother is not at home."
Tommy Tick, however, requires occular demonstra
tion of this important fact. Indeed, Tommy Tick
before now has been known to lift up the hangings
of a bed, to pull open cupboard doors and coal
closets, to search the interior of press bedsteads,
dec. On some of those occasions, Tommy Tick
succeeds in finding the defaulter, generally a female,
in a very unenviable position. The husband occasious
ally arrives home to dinner just at this crisis+, when
a scene ensues more amusing to the other lodgers
than profitable to Tommy Tick, who is expelled
vi el arinis from the house, his bale or pack being
cast upon his head from an upstairs window.
The tribe of Tommy 'Fick is Legion, for they are
many. There is Tommy Tick, the Tally Coal
Man ; Tommy Tick, the Tally Tea Man; Tommy
Tick, the Tally Furniture Man; Tommy Tick, the
Mangle Provider; Tommy Tick, the Haberdasher,
Ilosicr, Draper, Tailor, Clothier, General Outfitter,
and Dealer in British Lace; and last, though not
least, the really honest, polite, abstemious, and good_
natured, and too frequently swindled Mynhcr Von
Tommy Tick, the Musical Dutch Clawrk Man.—
Do not wrong the latter, pray, by classing him with
any of the swindling true born English Tommy
Ticks above described.
• The Cockney Tommy Tick is a small dapper
man, aged .10; hair cut short ; he always walks as
though he were engaged in a pedestrian match, or
impelled by the impulse of being übiquitous, and
endowed with the faculty of calling upon all his
customers ut one and the same moment.
The Scotch Tommy Tick is swift to bear and
slow to speak.
The Yorkshire Tommy Tick is built to carry
the globe on his shoulders. lie walks heavily with
a sort of Peeler's plod, and a confirmed stoop, ru
minating as he does, ever and anon raising his eyes,
and gazing at the passers-by, in the hopes of find
ing some crafty defaulter out of the 99 who arc an
nually too cunning for Tommy Tick.
The Irish Tommy Tick is neither wanting in
blarney or brass.
Tommy Tick often receives advice gratis at the
county court, at all end each of which printed di
rections are affixed for his especial use. Indeed,
tuao.thir ds of the summonses issued of these places
arc paid for by Tommy Tick, and during their
hearing the natural history and bloodthirsty de
meanor of that gentleman affords ample amuse
ment to the spectators, and gives a fine opportunity
for lecture practice to the incipient Lord Denmans
of the day, each and all of whom, truth to say, re
gard Tommy Tick as a superior scoundrel, and a
travelling trickster—a man to whom a pity the
law should afford protection.
MnritLs.—The following table comprises a list
of the metals generally 'mown, with their relative
weight, as compared with that of water, which is
allowed to weigh 1,000 ounces per cubic foot :
Gold, -. 19,000
Mercury, .- 13,001)
Lead, - . - 11,000
Silver, . - - 10,474
Copper, -- 8,783
Brass,- - 8,396
Wrought Iron, • - 7,778
Cast Iron, • - - 7,208
Zinc, - • 7,190
Antimony, . . 6,700
Experiments.—melt any quantity of lead in the
open air, and keep it melted until it becomes red
lead, and it will be found to have increased in weight
ten per cent.
Expose a small quantity of mercury in a moder
ate heat., in contact with atmospheric air, and it
will slowly combine with oxygen, and become red
oxyde ; but by an increase of heat, the oxygen will
be driven off, and the metal will be restored.
Place together, on a shovel, a little sulphur and
mereuty, and make the whole red hot over a strong
fire, and the beautiful paint, called vermillion, will
Melt on a shovel, or in a ladle, a small quantity
of zinc, and when it becomes red hot, it will burn
with a full flame, and become apparently consumed;
but the smoke will descend in flakes of a beautiful
fine oxycle of zinc.
To a little diluted sulphuric acid, add as many
filings of copper as the acid will dissolve; after.
wards evaporate the solution by a moderate heat,
when beautiful blue crystals of sulphate of copper
will be formed.
Into a mixture of nitric and muriatic acid, put a
few leaves of gold; they will almost instantly dis.
appear, showing a perfect specimen of metalic so.
AN Astottous Pos.—. Who is that lovely girl r'
excl Alined the weggish Lord Norbury, riding in
company with his friend," Miss Glass," replied the
barrister. • Glass!" reiterated the facetious judge,
"by the love which man bears to woman, I should
often be intoxicated could I place such a Gloss to
DarPormost.—The height of patience may be
considered to be a deaf man listening for the ticking
of a sun•dial.
In the Democratic Review for November, ISA
there was an account ofthe trial of Harry Blake, for
murder, who wus convicted upon circumstantial
evidence and hung. About three months after his
death, the judge who presided at the trial, received
a note from a prisoner under sentence of death,
requesting to see him without delay, as his sentence
was to be carried into effect the day following.—
On his way thither he overtook an old man walk.
ing slowly, who accosted him and recognized him
to be Caleb Grayson, who had been a witness at
Blake's trial, and had a similar note of his own, but
equally at a loss to know the meaning of the sum
mons. They both entered the cell together. The
prisoner did not move, but only raised his head,
when Grayson recognized having seen him ut a
tavern the night before Blake's execution, and at
Well, Judge," said he, .1 sent for you to see
if you can't get mo out of this scrape. Must I
hung to-morrow !"
The Judge shook his head; "It's idle to hope,
nothing can prevent your execution."
"An application might be made to the highest
authorities," said the prisoner. "Pardons havc
come sometimes on the scaffold."
None will come in your case replied the judge,
it is needless for ma to dwell on your offence now,
but it was one that had no palliation, and you may
rest assured, that whatever may have occurred in
other casts no pardon will come in yours." In
fact, I understand that an application has been
made for one by your counsel, and has been rcfus•
The features or the prisoner underwent no
change; nor did the expression of his face alter in
tho least. But after a few moment's pause, he
said: " Is this true, judge—upon your honor ?"
"It is," replied the judge.
"Then I know the worst," replied the crimnal
coldly, "and will nnw tell, what I have to commu
nicate, which I would not have done, while there
was a hope of escape. " You," said he, turning to
the Judge," presided at the trial of young Harry
flake, accused of murder, and sentenced him to
"And you, said lie, turning to Grayson, " were
one of the witnesses against him. You sworethat
you saw him stab Wickliffe. On your testimony,
principally, lie was hung."
"I was," replied the old man ; "I saw him with
my own eyes."
"And you," said he,turning to the other, "swore
to a falsehood. Harry Blake did not kill Wick.
lin. He was as innocent of the sin of murder as
you were—more innocent than you are now.
The old man staggered as if he had been struck,
and leaned against the table to support himself;
whilst tile condemned felon stood opposite him,
looking at him with a cold, indifferent air.
"Yes, old man," said he sternly, "you have
blood and perjury on your soul, for I, I," said he
stepping forward, so that the light of the lamp fell
strongly upon his savage features, "I murdered
William Wickliffe! I did it! Thank God I did
it, for I had a long score to settle with him- But
Blake had no hand in it. I met Wickliffe on that
afternoon, alone—with none to interfere between
us. I told him of the injuries he had done me,
and I told him that the time was come for redress. He
endeavored to escape; but I followed him up; I
grappled with him, and stabbed him. As I did so,
I heard the clatter of horse's hoofs, end I leaped
into a clump of bushes which grew at the road.
side. At that moment Blake came up, and found
Wickliffe lying dead in the road. You know the
rest. The tale he told Was as true as the gospel.
Ile was only attempting to draw the knife from
the man's breast, when you came up and charger'
him with the murder!"
"Good God! Can this be possible!" Villain,
you are a liar!"
"Pehaw!" muttered the man. What could I
gain by a lie 7 Tomorrow I die."
"I don't believe it; I don't believe it!" exclaim
ed Grayson, pacing the cell, and wringing his
hands. "God in mercy grant that it may be false!
that this dreadful sin may not be upon me!"
The prisoner sat down, and looked at the judge
and the witness with a calmness which had some
thing almost fiendish in it, when contrasted with
the extreme agitation of the one, and the mental
agony of t he other.
At last the old man stopped in front of him ; and
with a calmness so suddenly assumed in the midst
of his paroxysm of remorse, that it even overawed
the criminal, said: "You are one whose life has
been a tissue of falsehood and crime. You must
prove what you have said, or I'll not believe it."
"Be it so," replied the prisoner. " I saw the
whole transaction, and heard all your testimony at
the trial ; for I was there too. I'll now tell you
what occurred at the spotof the murder, which you
did not mention, but which I saw. When you rode
up, the man with you jumped off his horse and
seized Blake by the collar; your hat fell off on the
pommel of your saddle, but you caught it before it
reached the ground. You then sprang off your
horse, and whilst Walton held Blake, you examined
the body. You attempted to pull the knife from
his breast, but it was covered with blood, and slip
ped from your fingers. You rubbed your hand on
the ground, and, going to a bush on the road-side,
broke off some leaves and wiped your hands upon
them, and afterwards the handle of the knife. You
then drew it out, and washed it in a small puddle
of water at the foot of a sumach bush. As you
did so, you looked round at Blake, who was stand
ing with his arms folded, and who said, " Don't be
uneasy about me Caleb; I didn't kill Wickliffe and
don't intend to escape." At one time you were
within six feet of where I was. It's lucky yon did
not find me, fur I was ready at that moment to send
you to keep company with Wickliffe; but I saw all,
even when you stumbled and dropped your glove;
as you mounted your horse."
"God hare mercy on me !" ejaculated Grayson.
"This is all true! But one word morc. I heard
Wickliffe as we rode up, shriek out, "Mercy, mei ,
cy Harry !"
"lie was begging fur his life—my first name is
The old man clasped his hands across hie face,
and fell senseless on the floor.
It is needless to go into the details of the pri
soner's confession, which was so full and clear, that
it loft no doubt on the mind of the judge that lie was
guilty of Wickliffe's murder, and that Harry Blake
was another of those who had gone to swell the
list ofvictims to Circumstantial Evidence.
A LAS'► STUDENT'S DIARY.
FOR TIVENTY.FOUR lIOURS
Nine o'clock, A. 111.—Was called by the servant
to breakfast; demurred to it—found it wouldn't
do, though—must fill up the blanks in abdomen.
Ten o'clock—Felt a little squeamish—intemper
ance had taken away the tone of my stomach—
took a drop of stimulus, by way of replevin, to get
it back again.
Eleven o'clock—Peeped into Coke—what a big
book it is—took up a music -book, and humm'd
over , The Last Rose of Summer,' walked out to a
neighbor's and swallowed another replevin stimu
Twelve o'clock—One of the 'fancy' looked dug.
gers at me—l swore I'd prosecute him for an
assault, when he commenced a most tremendous
battery upon my poor carcass—l gave him a re
joinder—l then darted my head into his stomach
by way of a rebutter, when he fell to the ground,
and I won the cause.
One o'clock—Took a littlo more of the usual
replevin—sat down to dinner, and ate a slice of
ham—made five resolutions to live more temper
atrly—took a glass of halfand•half by way of
practising , on my good resolves.
Two o'clock—ln prime order—went to see Miss
G— a fine looking girl she is, and sings divinely,
too—whispered a little nonsense in her car. The
old woman don't like me—she popp'd in all of a
sudden, and caught me kissing her daughter; I
made issue per front door, and was off in a tan.
Three o'clock—Saw a creditor—he dunned me
hard, but I nonsuited him for the present.
Four o'clock—Time to study—got a headache
—read about petty larceny—an old cake•woman
came by, and I made forcible entry into her basket,
and detainer upon her gingerbread. The old dame
made prodigious loud and strong declarations
against it. My pica was fun! She rowed she
would sue me—l gave her the price of the cakes to
compromise and so the affair ended.
Five o'clock—Went to sec an acquaintance—
tried to be witty—out of five attempts three were
abortions—one joke was laughed at, and I shrewd.
ly suspect I was laughed at myself. Stick to corn•
mon sense and let wit alone.
Six o'clock—Took a little more replevin—found
my stomach in prime order—got among the girls
—talked nonsense—laughed aloud and endeavored
to be amusing—the girls snickered—l looked silly
and became totally dumb-founded.
Seven o'clock—Shall Igo to bed ? Too early
yet—whistled 'we won't go home till morning'—
capered about the house, and swigged another re.
plevirt—felt quite lively—sallied out, and broke a
negro's head. The fellow made more noise than
our city crier—l ramosed instantly.
Eight o'clock—Took another repierin.
Eleven—Two more in quick succession!
Nine o'clock, next morning—Found myself in
bed with coat, pants, hat and spectacles on !! !!
THE MAN woo FORGOT 1119 OWN NAME.—II. is a
fact known to many persons in this city, that some
years since, a high and respectable citizen of a
Southern city called at our post office and said,
" have you got any letters for met" " What is
your name sir," said the clerk. The gentleman
raised his left finger to his nose, looked grave and
said, " I will tell you directly," and turned on his
heel out of the office. A few yards from the post
office he meta friend, who said, " Mow do you do,
Mr. -?" " That's it," said the gentleman; and
returned to the office, told his name, and obtained
A FRENCH CLERG YMAN's OPINION:OF DANCINC.—
The cure of Guadian, in 'the illeurthe, has been
ordered by the magistrates to pay, with other ex
penses, 25 francs to a musician, who fiddled as the
parishioners danced on St. Mcdard's Day, and
whose instrument the reverend gentleman smashed
in consequence. The cure, however, was not to be
intimidated ; ho announced from the pulpit, that if
there should be another dance he will not attack
the paltry fiddler. but, like another Samson, break
the windows of the houses, tear down the roof, and
send his profane flock dancing to another world
A FEARFUL Resrousinrure.—Bathit:g Machine
Proprietor—" Did you get' 'ere gent ' sixpence
afore be went:into the machine?"`"
Assistant, ta nueice)- 6, No, Sir—thought as the
coves paid when they coined ont."
Proprietor—" Pay when - they cornea oat ! Why,
&pose that gent gets out of his depth ana goes and
drowns himself, I may whistle for my sixpence.—
Ain't you ashamed of youraelfr—Licerpool Lion.
"1 can't bear children," said Miss Prim, disdain.
fully. Mrs. Partington looked at her over her
spectacles mildly before she replied, "Perhaps if
you could you would like them better." she ut last
[WEIGLE NUMBER, 910.
THE STORY OF A SONG.
The Marseillaise retains the echo of a song of
victory, and also of a cry of death ; it is glorious
as one, dismal as the other. Here is its origin:
There was at that time (1792) a young artil
lery officer in garrison at Strasbourg. His name
was Roujet de Lisle. Ile was born at Louis.le.
Saulnicr, in the Jura, a country of meditation
and energy, as are all mountain districts. This
young man loved war us a soldier, and the Revo.
lotion as a thinker; lie beguiled by verses and
music the weary impatience of the garrison.-
11Inch sought after fur his double talent of musi
cian and poet, he frequented familiarly the house
of Dietrech, the mayor of Strasbourg and a patriot
Alastian. Dietrech 's wife and daughter partook
in his enthusiasm for patriotism and the 110, , 01u.
lion. They loved the young officer; they gave
inspiration to his heart, his poetry, his music.
They were the first who performed his scarcely
unfolded thoughts, full of confidence in the early
lispings of his genius.
It was the winter of 1792. Famine raged at
Strasbourg. Dietrech's house was poor and his
table frugal, but hospitably open to Roujet de Lisle
The young officer seated himself there night and
morning, like a son or brother of the family. One
night there was only garrison bread and a few
slices of smoked ham on the table : Dietrech look
ing at De Lisle with a melancholy serenity, said,
"There is a lack of abundance at our meals;
but what matters it if there be no lack of enthu•
siasm at our civic festivals, or of courage in the
hearts of our soldiers I have still a last bottle
of wine in my cellar. Let it be brought," said
he to one of his daughters, " and let us drink it
to liberty and our country. Strasbourg will soon
have to celebrate a patriotic ceremony, and De
Lisle must find in its last drops one of those hymns
which carry into the souls of the people that in.
tuxication lit= which it has sprung!"
The young girls applauded his words,brought
the wine, and filled the glasses of their old father
and the young officer until the liquor was exhausted.
It was midnight ! the night was cold. De Lisle
was a dreamer; his heart was affected, his head
was heated. The cold seized upon him; with no.
steady steps he entered his solitary chamber. lie
slowly sought inspiration, now in the beating of his
citizen hea.', now on the keys of his piano; now
composing the air before the words, now the words
before the air; and in such a manner associating
them in thought, that he could not himself say
which was created first, music or verse, and until
it was impossible to separate the poetry from the
music, and the sentiment from the expression. Ile
sang all, wrote nothing. Overpowered by the
sublime inspiration, he feel asleep with his head
on the piano, and did not awake till day. The
song of tho night returned to his memory with
difficulty, like the impression of some dream. He
wrote down words and music, and hastened to
Dietrech. Ile found him in his garden digging up
winter lettuces. The old patriot's wife and daugh
ters had not yet risen. Dietrech awoke them, and
sent for some friends like himself passionately fond
of music, and capable of performing it. Roujet
sang Dietrech's eldest daughter accompanied him.
At the first stanza, all their countenances grew
pale : at the second, tears flowed: at the last
stanza, the wildness of enthusiasm burst forth.—
Dietreeles wife and daughter, the old man himself
his friends, the young officer, threw themselves
weeping into each other's arms. The hymn of the
country was found! But alas; it was also destined
to be the hymn of terror. Unfortunate Dietrech
few months later, walked to the scaffold to the sound
of those very notes which had sprung forth at his
hearth from the heart of his friend and the voices
of his daughters. The new song, performed sever.
al days afterwards at Strasbourg, flew from town to
town to all the principal orchestras. Marseilles
adopted it to be sung at the commencement and
close of the sittings of its clubs. The Marseillais
spread it through France by singing it on their
way to Paris. From this came the name of Mar
The old mother Do Lisle, a royalist, terrified
at the echo of her son's voice, wrote to him,—
" What is this revolutionary hymn which is sung
by a horde of brigands traversing France, and
with which thy name is associated ?" De Lisle
himself, proscribed as a royalist, shuddered as Ire
heard it resound in his cars like a menace of death,
when flying along the pathways of the high Alps.
"What do they callthis hymn!" demanded ho of
The Marseillaise," replied the peasant.
It was thus that he learnt the Lame of his own
work. He was pursued by the enthusiasm which
he had sown behind him. He escaped death with
difficulty. The weapon turns against the hand
which has forged it. The Revolution in its mad
ness no longer recognized her own voice!—Lamar.
Max.—The ancient philosopher defined man to
be a cooking animal. A more modern one says be
is a bookmaking animal; but we think the Cleve
land Herald has hit it, which says:—" Man is a
reasoning animal who paints with the sun-beams,
travels by steam, talks by lightning, specteatef in
brcadettdra and swaps handsaws and jacknives."
Schoolmaster—" Bill Tomkins, what is a widow?'
Bill—. A widder, sir, is a married woman, whit
aint got any husband, cause lie's dead." Master—
" Very well. What is a widower?" Bill—" A
widerer is a man what runs artor the widders."—:
Master—" Well Bill, that is ant exactly according
to Johnson, but it will do."—Boston Pod.
Tam STORY of the woman living with ten hus
bands. in New Hampshire, without molestation, is
explained in the following way:—The woman's
name is Husband, and she has nine children; of
course she lives with ten Husbands, and it is proper
and right she should.