The Columbia spy and Lancaster and York County record. (Columbia, Pa.) 184?-1848, November 06, 1847, Image 1
NEW SERIES, VOL. I, No. 19.] CITARRICK TVESTBROOK. 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 tisers. 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!!! ORR'S CELEBRATED .LIB.-TlaliT STOVZS. 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 ments. 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 series. 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, MEROHAITT TAILORS, No. 70 South Third Street, nearly opposite the Exchange, Philadelphia, 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 particularly designed. 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 CHARLES STOKES' 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 CHEAP CLOTHING 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. CHARLES STOKES, No. 296, Market St., 3rd door below Ninth. Philadelphia, August 28,1817.-3 in. Agency of the Canton TEA COMPANY. 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. C. WESTBROOK, Locust street, Columbia, I'a• April 7,1847. REMOVAL. 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. Notice. 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. SAMUEL SHOCK, 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. 0c2'.17 n VER 1000 different styles entire new patterns 11 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 : Phrtina,- 22,000 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 Tin,- 7,091 . 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 be produced. 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. lution.—Sci. Am. 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 my lips." DarPormost.—The height of patience may be considered to be a deaf man listening for the ticking of a sun•dial. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. 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 the gallows. 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• cd." 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 death." "I did." "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 Harry :" 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 lant. 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. gent! 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. Nme—Another ! Ten—Another !! 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 his letters. = 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 —Populaire. 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 said. [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 seillaise 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 his guide. 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. tine. 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.