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THE BLESSINGS OF GOVEBN2IE27T, LIKE THE DEWS OF HEAVEH, SHOULD BE DISTBIBUTUD AT.TTTR TJP03 THE HIGH AHD THE LOW, THE BICH AND THE POOS.
XEW SEllTES.
EBENSBURG, DECEMBER 7, 1854.
VOL. 2. NO. II-
my
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BERTHA.
.... :
- At an unfrequented watering-lace on the
south coast of England, dwelt Mr Bertram!
Fitxsimon, a poor relation of an aristocratic
family. But though poor, he was proud'. The
family was one Of the oldest in England. C
course he held aloof from the gentry of the
" watering-place, except the few who were un
questionably rich. !" '.
There was one exception to this, however.
;Mr. Edgar', a-youjig man, of five-and-twenty,
-f whom, nothing literally was known, was a
welcome visitor at the. Rosery. ITe owed this
to having been the fortunate means of saving
the life of Bertha, Mr. Fitzsimon's daughter,
who would, most probably," have been drown
ed but for his exertions. What more was ne
cessary to procure him an introduction to the
family t No questions were asked about his
pedigree, i They saw he was a gentleman in
manner; they knew that he had saved their
daughter from a watery grave, and neither
Mr. nor Mrs. Fitzsimon objected to his visits,
.lie became as one of , the family and Mr
Fitzsimon soon discovered that he had money -at
command, and was not loth to lend it.
Fitxsimon on his part, was not loth to borrow
characteristic which human nature will
sometimes retain in spite of the longest pedigree-
. - -; -
There was something peculiar about Mr.
Edgar, however, which the Fitzsimon's ere
long perceived. In spite of his cheerful air,
his extensive, acquaintance with books, and
withNthe wider page of life, and the openness
of his manner, there was a scrutiny in his look,
a guardedness of expression, a power to repel
inquiry when anything that had the appear
ance of even leading to it was attempted, that
was not satisfactory. But the.ftrangcst thing
of all to the minds of both Mr. and Mrs. Fitx-
fciaxaa, - m the insensibility be diplaye4rto'
Bertha's charms. This question had been
much debated. Mr Fitzsimon's hope of suc
ceeding to the family estate was remote. The
possessor was a man of his own age, and be
tween them were three younger lives with a
claim prior lo our friend's. It was evident to
him that Mr. Edgar was at all events rich.
lie had borrowed three hundred pounds from
him, and the last hundred was lent as willing
ly as the first. Mr. Fitzsiinon saw that this
would not be a bad match for his daughter ;
Mrs Fitzsimon coincided in his opinion ; but
Mr. Edgar showed no sign of falling in love.
It is true he accompanied her in many a walk
aver the sands; that he had overcome her fear
of boatiag. But according to Mrs. Fitzsimon
there was no love in the business ; and the
husband chagrined that he should have enter
tamed the thought of a condescension which
was not likely to be appreciated, coiled him
self up in a more rigid exclusiveness than
ever,'
The most unlikely things will sometimes
happen m this world. One morning, news
came that the Fitzsimon in possession had
broken his neck in a steeple chase. Within
a month from this time, one by one, the three
intervening lives departed this earthly scene,
and Fitasimoa found himself owner of two es
tates. . All was now hurtle at the Rosery.
Fitzsimon proceeded to Herefordshire to take
possession, and Mrs and Miss Fitzsimon were
charged to prepare for a speedy departure to
the metropolis. A week passed. Fitzsimon
returned to the Rosery to conduct his wife
and daughter to town. The day came, and
Edgar called to bid them good-bye lie found
Bertha quite alone.
:' Ton will be glad to go to London," said
Be, after the usual greeting had been exchang
ed you have not spent a season fhcre yet!"
i . ".No," answered Bertha, laconically.
You have much to see then," said Edgar,
" a aeV l'6 aD vei7 different one from that
which jo.n have hitherto led in this retire
ment. You will find much to amuse you ;
maek to deligh t the eye, the senses ; much
to admire in the brilliancy of fashion, the
works of art, the displays of genius, the the
atres, the opera, and " tho.se attractions for
which the metropolis is famouP." '
Yes," said she, melancholfly, a faint
smile curling her lip into one of its many pha
ses of beauty. y.-.j
.; ' You wUl also find ranch He paus
ed, " But why should I render that taste
Jess to you on which your heart is perhaps
fet There was an expression in his face as
tie said this, which Bertha had remarked bo
fore, an expression partlsad, but more stern.
' No, no, tell me," cried she, for the first
time since he had entered the room seeming to
be cognizant of what was passing ; ' tell me
what else shall I find T' ' '
' Too much that is hollow ind insincere,"
was the reply, "notwithstanding a fair outside.
Do not think, that in changing, this wild life
amongst rocks and cliffs, and with the storms
of winter ever and anon raging before your
ayes, that all will be gain."
"I would rather remain here," she replied;
" I have been happy in the midst of nature."
" And are there no attractions in the world
that claim your affection?"
-' Indeed," - replied -Bertha, artlessly, " I
ehall never forget th friends I have loved
here; and least of all, Mr. Edgar, shall
ever forget you!" she said, extending her hand
to him. Ue took it, but with an abstracted
air, as if his mind was busy in another direc
tion. -"
Miss Fitzsimon," said Edgar after
pause, - we have spent so much time togeth
er, and interchanged so much thoght, may I
add feeling, that I am confident enough to say
to you what I have not said to your father or
to Mrs. Fitzsimon."
Bertha blushed ; but no ; he was not going
to sav what she expected.
". Yon have guessed there is a mystery
about roe' he continued "you have suspec
ted it and you are right, l am a man wno,
from ' my boyhood, have loved ; truth, and
sought after honesty. . Where they were want
ing, either in. manor, .woman; J. could no
virtue to compensate their - absence ; I have
lived to bo deceived by one who was destitute
of both. But what have you to do with this ?"
he added, after a short pause; 'we will speak
of something else." .;, '
" No, no ! pray go on," exclaimed Bertha,
so interested in what had already . fallen from
Edgar, and her face-so full of expression, that
he thought she had never looked half so love
ly before . .
" Ic is a long story, Miss ritzsimon ; out l
Twrceive vou Dartlv euess it. I loved a wo-
aian whom I thought possessed of a heart as
tnv o .ts her faoe was beautiful ; but I had
judeod wrongly. From the time that I dis
C0Tereti imy mistake, I withdrew from society,
resolved' to . devote myself to those affections
which boos. the study of nature, and the wi
dest phasea of man's life supply. It was not
long however, ere I found that my heart was
still alive enough ivo appreciate a more kindred
Edgar paused, a.nd turned his look steadily
on Bertha. ITer lai;ge, expressive eyes, were
veiled in an instant by thvSir scarce less lovely
lids. A beautiful blusJi spread oyer her face,
glowed for a moment, an d immediately passed
away. ' .
" Bertha," cried Edgar, drawing closer to
her and taking her hand in his, " nave you
never suspected that I looked with ro common
admiration on your charms, or tlat I lTgarded
with a deeper respect the more engaging
qualities of your nature?. ITave you not sus
pected I have more than ordinary regard for
" Yes," replied Bertha, for she certainly
had suspected it.
: " Have you never dreamt that I dared even
to love you?"
Yes," she had dreamt that too ; though
she Raw no great daring about it.
"I love you," he said, "yes with my whole
heart. Do t love in vain ?"
. i .As he said this -he drew .f.kwr to Bertha,
who suffering her hand to remain in his, per
mitted . hiu to fold his other arm around her
waist. Just then footsteps were heard upon
the stairs
"Do I love in vain?" repeated Edgar. lie
felt her arm timidly placed upon his shoulder
" You will not forget me T cried he. -
"Never!" replied Bertha.
A month passed, and the Fitzsimona were
settled in London. It was the height of the
season ; and Bertha found herself in a new
world indeed, exceeding in splendor and in
beauty the wildest paintings ef her imagina
tion. " '
One morning, some two months after her
arrival, while mechanically turning over some
sheets of new music, and running her fingers
along the keys of her instrument, the door of
the drawing-room opened, and the servant an
nounced Mr. Edgar. Mr. Edgar himself fol
lowed. .
Bertha rose, blushed, stammered. Edgar
perceived her hesitation He advanced and
held out his hand. - She placed hers within it
and the courtesies of meeting were exchanged,
but somewhat 6tiffly. -
"You are altered, Miss Fitzsimon," said he,
after a time . You have lost the ruddy
health you brought to town with you. May
Fadd, too, that in other respects I see a dif
ference." There was a melancholy in the tone in which
he spoke' that went at once to her heart. Al
tered! Yes, she was much altered. But
whatever she might have said was interrupted
by the entrance of her father.
Fitzsimon had always held his head high,
but now it was higher than ever. It seemed,
indeed, as if his chin had usurped the posi
tion by nature allotted to his noso. As be
stalked into the room Edgar, at once saw what
reception he would have Proceeding to the
piano, Fitzsimon took his daughter by the
hand, and leading her to the door, motioned
her out and closed it after her.
"Mr. Edgar," said Fitzsimon, returning
with an air of magnificence which almost made
our hero smile, "this is very unseemly, sir ;
very indecorous and improper. You should
have written had you wished to see me, and I
would willingly have granted you audience ;
hut to take me by storm, to insist, as it were
though I hardly think your presumption
could intend that on forcing me to an inter
viewthis is, I. say, most indecorous, most
unseemly " . : ;, .
Edgar was not taken aback ; he knew, bis
man, and expected nothing better from him,
" I have used this freedom with your leave
before, Mr. Fitzsimon," said he, "and see no
difference that two' months can have made to
render it indecorous now. I am not changed ;
are you?"
"Changed!" ejaculated Fitzsimon in amaze
ment -at the man's reckless impertinence ;
changed ! Good Heavens I am I to be ad
dressed in this low, familiar manner, and ask
ed if I am changed 1"
" Remember, Blr,"! replied Edgar sternly,
and resolved to give no quarter where he
found none, "you are still the man whose
daughter I have saved from what would prob
ably have been death ; still the man who has
done me the honor to become my debtor in a
pecuniary sense," w ; .
"Sir!" exclaimed Fitzsimon, insulted that
these reminicences should be regarded other
wise than as favors conferred upon the person
who had saved the child and lent the money,
" you are gross : you are evidently an ignor
ant man, who-has -forgotten himself and his
position. . There," continued he, writing up
on a card, "is mv agent's address, sir . Tate
your claim to him, and let me never see you
in this house again." With these words he?
issued from the room as magnificently as he
had entered it.; . ..
All this was nothing to Edgar. He had
?au?ed the man before. But Bertha! Was
she changed too? : Again he had set his faith
noon a woman, and was he deceived? Would
she not nrobablv steal to see him again ? He
paused, listened no sound . Why did he ex
pect it t He had marked Iter hesitation. 'He
saw the blush of confusion with which she
welcomed him, as if she was too proud to meet
him heartily, yet too young to be wholly nn-
frateful. Was she coming 7 Sio I lie took
is hat; descended the stairs, wrapped in sor
rowful mood, and in a minute more found
himself in the street.
And had Bertha forgotten him j Not quite.
Her confusion at meeting him, was in truth,
only natural. She saw the insult her father
intended, and almost sank with shame at the
double ingratitude with which the friend of a
less fortunate period was treated. . The hall
door had already closed behind him after his
departure when she despatched her servant
with the following note ;
" Dsar Ma. .kDaAB Whoever else may
be ungrateful, do not doubt that there is one
in this house who can never forget you. So
long as you value this assurance, believe it.
. . Bertha."
Edgar walked moodily along. He thought
of what unadorned merit has to suffer in this
world ; and as his thoughts grew warmer, and
his indignation rose higher, he walked the
faster. Bertha's maid would much rather
have been Bertha's mistress. ' A steam engine
could not get her to walk out of what she con
sidered a becoming pace nor could ' all the
world have induced her to run.' Perhaps she
might have made a little more haste had Ed
gar been a 'lord,' or even a 'sir;' but, as it
was, she saw him , gradually increase the dis
tance between them till he entered the Park.
She pursued him, but in vain. G iving up
the pursuit, she resolved to return home; and
m Bertha had ordered her on no account to
come back without having delivered the let
ter, she further resolved to say that she had
do?e so. 'j . - : . '.
Bertha's mind was accordingly composed,
and in due time she betook herself to her toi
let Li less than an hour she was dressed
for the evening, r and the carriage being an
nounced, the Fiixsimoaa drove ofT to Ladr
Harriet Temple's. - Thefe was a dinner party
and also an evening party : they joined both ;
but what was Mr. Fitzsimon's confusion to find
himself sitting vit-a-vis to his friend Edgar !
Had the fellow lent her ladyship money too ?
No; be was too much at home to be merely
there on tolerance. More than that there
was an evident deference paid towards him,
and what ! was it possible that Bertrand
Fitzsimon heard aright I 'Lord Edgar 'my
lord' 'your lordship.' . j
" And where, and in what . incognito has
ray fitful cousin been for the last six months ? '
What have you been about,' sir ?" demanded
Lady Harriet. ( !
" Looking for honesty and truth," replied
Edgar. -
"I hope you found them, my lord?" in
quired Sir Charles Wilrnot, with a laugh. :
"I am not sure," he answered ; " perhaps,
yes,' possibly 'no.'"
7 Did his eye wander towards Bertha as he
said this? She thought so, and her heart
beat rapidly. She thought of the letter.' She
rejoiced that he had received it before she had
become acquainted with his true position.
Not for the whole world would she have writ
ten it had she believcd-Mr , Edgar to have been
Lord Temple. And yet. was it not strange
that he should not address a single word to
her, that his eyes should not be turned to
ward her ; that after dinner he should neither
seek her out to dance with him, or ask her to
sing one of those airs which had been such
favorites with him before ? Hours passed
away ; and finally, Mrs. Fitzsimons bade her
hostess good-night. The husband and Bertha
followed the example. Lord Edgar was stand
ing beside Lady Harriet. Fitzsimon bowed
to him, a most gracious bow, which the other
acknowleged by the slightest inclination of
his head. But on Bertha he did not waste a
glance,- What could it have meant ?
' We shall be happy to see your lordship X,
said Mrs, Fitzsimon, from whom alone the in
vitation could come with any grace.
"I shall do myself the honor of calling,"
replied his lordship, in a tone tinged, as Ber
tha thought, with sarcasm. But he took no
notice ofher. ... .
Bertha slept little that night, and the mor
ning found her pale and weary. . ; . .
It was at two o'clock, as her maid was about
to give herself an airing in the Park, which
she did about the same hour generally, to dis
embarrass her mind for a few moments of the
afflicting dnties of her position, that the hall
door opened, and Mr. Edgar gave his card to
the porter, inquiring for Miss Fitzsimon. The
card was handed to the maid, which, when the
maid read it, produced a revulsion in her
economy that no permissible language can ex
press. ' Turning round, and bowing at each
step she took lost in a maze of wonder and
admiration, she led him to the drawing-room,
and was about to hurry to lier young mistress
when the thought of the letter occurred to her.
Fortunately she had not burnt it; Withdraw
ing it from her pocket she presented it with
a triumphant air, as if she had been pursuing
his lordship ever since yesterday and had run
him down at last Having performed this
font 1ia rnsliod off to her voung mistress, who
immediately fell into the most delightful agi- J
tation. Puwwereia demand ; frifi and bi- j
joutene; and ere Bertha was presentable, ten
minutes naa passed away.
In the meantime Lord Temple had opened
the letter, read it, and attributed its profes
sions of fidelity to the discovery that he waa
Lord .Ldgar,' and not 'Mr. Edgar The
doubt of which till now he had given Bertha
the benefit, was now clearly against her. It
gnivu pajuiuujr upua lug reunea sensiDuiues
of such a man, that so young and beautiful a
giri suouiu uisptay suon matronly cratt, and
that she should pretend to address him as
dear Mr. Edgar ' The whole tiling was evi
dently got up. Ineffably disgusted, he felt
that his affair with Bertha was now utterly at
an end. H or enouid tie trouble her lor an
interview ? No; he would not. . -As
BwfLarwas descending to iie drawing
room. Lord Edgar was descending to the loll;
and just as our heroine entered the drawing-
room hislordsnip wandered in the garden.
' What did all this mean ? Bertha rang for
her maid. The maid was equally puzzled.
1'assmg rapidly from one thought to another.
Bertha's mind at last turned to the letter.
" You are certain you gave it to him y ester
day," she said. "If you failed you have ru
ined me I
" Oh, certain, miss," responded the maid,
with a most determined resolution to stick to
it. ' : ' .
But just then Bertha's eye fell on some
scraps of paper, which were strewed upon the
ground. The suspicion-, flashed across her
mind that these were the fragments of her let
ter, and that it had not been delivered yester
day. Her own handwriting soon convinced
her of the former fact. Turning to her maid
with a firm look that alarmed her the more
from the deathlike paleness of her face, she
said, ' You did not deliver it yesterday?"
" No I" responded the maid, after a pause,
and trembling in every limb, whilst Bertha
slowly reascended to her chamber, but shortly
afterwards descended to the garden.
It was not without pain that Edgar came to
the conclusion that Bertha was calculating and
selfish, like the rest of the world. The one
hope which had bound him to society was
broken, and he felt inclined to abjure that
faith inTiigh things which had so ennobled
his character. Rain was beginning to fall,
and he entered one of the trbors in the gar
den, and contemplated the ' beautiful shrubs
and flowers by which he was surrounded.
There was no one near him, and he exclaim
ed. " Nature, thou alone art true ; true in
beauty, true in fidelity to your destiny. It is
summer, and you wear the livery of joy
bright, shining, smiling ; filling tho eye with
beauty, the heart with gladness. Winter
comes, and again you are like the time true
to it ever faithful tojtbe marriage vow which
has bound you to the revolving year. Man
alone is false ; woman, beautiful and false 1"
As lie looked out upon the scene his mind
Was so deeply absorbed with these thoughts.
that he did not hear the footsteps that ap
proached. They paused, came on again a lit
tle, paused again. He heard them not.
Again they came on, and some one entered
and sat down The rain was increasing, but
Lord Temple wished to be alone. Ue rose
and stepped forth.
Good Heavens! what voice was that? Who
was it pronounced his name, in a tone so low
and so sweet, that it seemed to touch his very
heart? He turned The lady had risen and
was standing before him, she raised her veil
a little and he beheld Bertha, her face pale,
and her1 lips quivering with emotion. In
wonder he rushed back to her. '
"Miss Fitzsimon," he said softly, when
she had sat down again, " what docs this
mean ? or do I meet you again by accident ?"
" No, she replied, recovering herself after
a while, and loosing her hand from his, "I
have followed you ; I came on purpose. 1 ou
have received a letter from me."
"I have to acknowledge that honor," re
turned Edgar, coldly the very thought of
the letter chilling him in an instant.
Bertha remarked the change. She could
no longer control her feelings
"You have wrongrdmel" she exclaimed
bursting into tears.
"Wronged yoUi Miss Fitxsimon; I believe,
on he contrary, that I have to complain."
"You believe, then, she continued, calm
ing herself, "that I have condescended out of
a deference to your rank, to pretend a part 1
had not played; to pre-date a letter in order
to represent myself in a dinerent light from
that in which you viewed me, and that I sup
ported this fofgery by addressing you m your
feigned name, when I had become aware of
your real one. No, I have not done that. I
wrote upon the instant, stung with shame at
the ingratitude with which your friendship in
less prosperous hours was repaid. My ser
vant betrayed me. She failed to deliver that
letter until after your true position had . been
revealed to us." .
"Good Heaven I" exclaimed Lord Tem
ple " .
"1 do not ask you to believe me, replied
Bertha, with a mixed expression of pride and
scorn. " Nor have I followed you with any
other aim than this to free myself from an
imputation under which' I could not live.
You'll pardon my boldness, my lord. Per
haps I nave the greater right to your consid
eration, since it might have been expected
that you would have sought shis explanation,
not I." She rose to depart, but. Edgar de
tained her. "You are not less a gentleman,
I trust," said she, proudly, "than when you
appeared nothing more than one. Let my
hand go, and suffer mc to depart,"
: "But oh, Bertha ! is this all? is nothing
more to bo said ?" .
"Nothing," she replied, emphatically.
"But, by me, Berth, much would be said,
if it were as easy to say as to know what we
ought to say. You will not leave me." He
attempted to place his arm round her waist,
but she repulsed him. "Stay. Bertha I" he
exolaimod,. "Qood He von 1 you cannot bo
60 cruel,' so relentless." He again folded his
arm round her ; but again ahe removed it.
"By thehappyhourswe have spent together,
jjt'rioa
"They are passed," replied Bertha, lifing
up her large and beautiful eyes to withdraw
uem irom nis gaze. '
.iti i. .i
.uus not ue memory, nor toe love in
me at least which they engendered. Are
they wholly dead in you, Bertha?" He look
ed at her; a tear started from her eye, stood
on her cheek a moment, and then rolled off
upon his hand. "Look back look back !"
lie exclaimed, "to the last hour we spent to
gether. Can that be forgotten that promise
never to forget me ? Go back still further
I saved your life, Bertha." He paused, and
once more cad encircled her with his snn,
which her hand was about to remove, en
he caught it in his, and pressed it with a lov
er's fervor.
"Bertha dear Bertha. T lore xnn f TV
fore heaven, I love nothing in the world but
you. - Ae generous 1 xioneat l Have you
ww .. .. . -
ceasea to respect me I t
"ISO, she replied.
'Nor to love me. Bertha V aaid Lord Tem
ple.
His arm was tightened round her wIni
her hand rested contentedlv in hin- t
thought once that slightly very slightly
it even returned nis pressure. Again she
allowed herself to be reseated, and gradually
her cheek came nearer to his.
"Nor to love me V once more asked our
hero.
There are looks that say more than words ;
murmur, more expressive than articulate
sounds. Three months after thin Lord VA.
car Temple and Bertha sat arain in that ar
bor man and wife. M. V. P.
Anecdote of . Doctor Emmons.
The doctor, it is said, was no great lover of
sweet sounds, and religiously excluded from
his meeting house all instrumental music, ex
cept a little mahogany-colored wooden pitch-
pipe of the size of an "eightecn-mo" book.
A member of his choir who had learned to
play the bass-viol, anxious to exhibit his skilj,
early one Sunday morning mopt unadvisedly
introduced his big fiddle, into the singing
gallery. After the first "prayer was ended,
and the doctor began to handle his "Watts,"
the Lose violer lifted up his profanation, and
trying his strings, instantly attracted the
doctor's attention. He caused, laid down
his hymn-book, took his sermon 'from the
cushion, and proceeded with his discourse, as
if singing was no part of public worship, and
finally dismissed the congregation ' without
note or comment. The whole choir was in
dignant They stayed after meeting, and all
the girls and young men resolved not' to go
into the "singing seats" at all in the after
noon, and the elders who did go there, bore
th; visages of men whose minds were made
up. Services began as usual in the after
noon. 1 ne doctor toox his book in his hand,
looked over his spectacles at the gallery, and
saw only a few there ; but nothing daunted,
read a psalm and sat down. No sound fol
lowed, no one stirred ; and the leader looked
up in utter unconsciousness. After a long
and most uneasy suence, the good man, his
face somewhat over-flushed, his manner rath
er stern, read the psalm again, paused, then
re-read the first verse and pushing up his
spectacles, looked interrogatively at the gal
lery. The leader could bear it no longer.
and half rising said decidedly t "There won t
be any singing here this afternoon." "Then
there won't be any preaching 1" said the
doctor, quick as thought ; and taking his
cocked hat from its peg, he marched down the
pulpit stairs, through the broad aisle, and
out of the house, leaving his congregation
utterly astounded. We need not inform our
readers that the big fiddle was not used in' the
"singing seats afterwards.
A Pious marshal.
Several years age, when a 'Sabbath School
celebration was to take place in Burlington,
Vt, Sheriff L. was selected to be the Marshal
of the day. The old gentleman was an aus
tere officer, and usedv emphatic language in
great abundance, without any reference what
ever to attendant circumstances, or the pre
sence of individuals, as in the case under
notice. . ''
The procession, which was placed under
his leadership, on the occasion above referred
to, having "fallen in," ho was asked by the
master of the band what he should play.
Old Mr. L straightened himself himself in
his stirrups, and cried loud enough to be heard
all along the line-
' 'Play 'We re marching to tmanuel a land
6y " -
How to Get to Sleep.
How to grt to sleep is to some persons a
matter of hiih importance. . Nervous ner-
sons who are troubled with wakefulness and
excitability, usually have a strong tendency
. . . . . . ... .
blood to tne Drain, witn coia extremeues.
le pressure of blood on the brain keeps
them in a stimulated or wakeful state, and
the pulsations in the head are often painful.
jet sucn rise anu cuiua w ivyjr auu equ
ities' with a brush or a towel, or rub smartly
with the hands to promote a circulation and
wltKr.w the excessive ouantitv of blood
from the brain, and they will fall asleep in a
, . i.i ! 1,
tew minutes. A com oatn, or a rapia warn
l the open air, or going up and down stairs
few times,' just before retiring, will aid in
equalizing circulation and promote 6leep
These rules are simple and easy of applica
tion in castle or cabin, and mav minister to
the comfprt of thousands who would freely
expend money for an anodyne to promote
'Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."
An old lady, whose son was about to pro
ceed to the Black Sea, among her parting ad
monitions gave him strict injunctions not to
bathe in that sea, for she did not want to sec
him com baok a tpr.
Doeaticxj on Street Preachinc.
Saw a big crowd in the Park inquired
about it, and was told the usual street screech-'
ing was going on wanted to see the fun
got a good place on a fat Irishman's toes.
Enter Gabnel tin horn hole in hia panta
loons (Bull Dogge says that if angels have
wings, they are also provided with tails hence
this last item ;) thought it extremely probable.
Gabrial mounted ne end of the City Hall
steps, and after a preliminary overture on Lis
horn, and a slight skirmish among the faith
ful, resulting in four black eyes, a datmged
nose, and a broken leg the religious services '
commenced (Damphool was entirely carried
away by his vrapathies for this last martyr,
but soon discovered that the fractured mem-
ber was "purely vegetable," as the patent
medicine men sayj and the injury tth Fptedi
ly repaired by means of a few shingle nails
and a piece of clapboard.) Gabriel went in
to win, but in spite of the sanctity of hia name
and the holiness of the aforesaid breeches, he . -was
not permitted a clear field. A fn..1,
with bosom undressed in the latest fashion
petticoats fDamnhool SSVS skirt irnf5 nnt '
immaculate ; stockings, through the texture
ui wmcn ner aencate anues were plainly vis- '
ible to the naked rv wr.iu ..v,i J .
mousses candy, with a nose symmetrical . aJ
an over-grown sweet potato, and in hue not
unlike the martyred lobster, and wh OKA t(Wth
reminded me forcibly of the "crags and
peaks" mentioned by the man in the play '
took up her station on the other end of the -
steps. She, like Gabe, went in for giving i
the Church of Rome "Jesse," but otherwise
did not agree with him. Did not ncm ;t-
ling to go to heaven by his conveyance, but
vuun.u wwaic uuwvcrctt some Ainu OI a
northwest passage some exclusive r.tli :
'cross lots and ahe advocated her rirht nf
V1T With 11 hfr wnmen'a nt
in fact, thev agreed onlvtofpmT.lv "ArJ..
ambo" both Celestials, but of a different
breed fB D. savs that sometime nitiM tliv
joined issue on the devil's head, one assertimr
mat ne nas norns, and the outer maintaining
that his brimstone friend was a muley but
they both pitched into the Pope abused all
foreigners, denounced the Church of Romcl
walked into the affections of the CtKni;.
generally talked learnedly of priests, inqui
sitions, dungecua, thumbscrews, martyrs con
vents, nunneries, and other luxuries, as being
the onlv legitimate offimrinir of th mnlliAr f
abominations, the scarlet woman; and, in fact,
seemed to be having the field entirely to ' '
themselves, when lo! a chance mm a nVr
spirit of the gospel show; for in the midst of
.u 1 1 i l j A i i
iucviuwu buuucuij appeared a xnira com rat
ant his classic dress and intelleetnal fuA '
gave unmistskeable evidence that be was from
tne - Lini oi tne ucean . . . . t
With the dignified andmaiestia lw n" n r. .
e i
culiar to some of his countrymen, he slowly .
mounted tne steps, and took a position direct
lv between the two. and in a voice Ktror rAv
tinctured with the "sweet brogue," announced
himself as a champion of that much slandered
gintleman, the Pope of Rome.
At this astounding impudence, the woman
for a single instant held her peace. Gabe
was so taken aback that he sermed about tn
collaps, an "ad libitum" interlude on the tin'
l i n , , . . i . ...
norn, ana an nanas "pile tied in (as Jlisft
Amies Robe rs ton savs. Oa.hr il cnmimmm '
the onset by asserting that the Pope is not
striciiy a Dacneior, Dut nas seven white wires
in his parlor, thirteen ditto bound in law r&lf
in the library, a hundred and forty-one golden
naireu aamsais in nis private apartment, and
a perfect harem of jetty beauties in tha coal
hole.
Petticoats followed, by saying that he
breakfasts on Protestant babies; drinks whis
key punch out of a Protestant clergyman's
skull; has an abducted Protestast virgin to
black his boots: ft r-wvrn ProtKUntwiilnn
to dig his potatoes and hoe corn, and that he
rolls ten pins every afternoon with the beads
of Protestant orphan children.
Irishman indignantly denied all said the
country was going to old knick, and somef ne
morning we shall wake up and find that tho
i ope, unaoie longer to rnuure our perverae
ness, has sunk us all forty m'des deeper than
ancient Sodom; said that his holiness ran
send us all to perdition by one wink of his
left eye; that he is the head of the church on'
earth ; has all power to save or otherwise ;
could get us aP, out of Purgatory, and send us
all "kitin into heaven," by wagging Lis little
finger; that he could, like a Joshua No. 2,
make the Ron and moon stand still ; make the
planets dance an astronomical rigadoon ; eaaso
the hills and mountains to execute a mighty ,
geological jig, while old ocean should beat
le. time against the blue vault of heaven, and.
Applauding angels encore the huge saluta
tions. ' . '
Gabe said he din't believe the yarn. ' Pet
ticoats remarked something about the Star .
Spangled Banner being always right aide
up-.. ' . : .' '
Irishman proceeded to describe the future
home of the happy in an other world, aa a
place where there should be plenty of pota
toes, and oceans of genuine whiskey, . , ,
Symptoms of a free fight now rapidly de.-,
vcloped into an uncivil war' Petticoat Vol
mixed up with the crowd, and presently
emerged rather the worse for wear, barefooted,
bareheaded, hair down, and nose injured by
collision.' . . .
There Is a young lady in Baltimore whose
breath is so sweet, the storekeepers hire her
to go out in winter, to frees the same, which
they sell for candy.
The war with Russia occasioned, a rise in
Tallow, and we have no doubt ttie sajne event
has caused the rising in Q;ecce.
Whiskey nrrer conducted wesJifc into a
mar; pocket, happirets to his funilv. or r
Fpectability to Lis character. Therefore
kcy a non,-coT)ductnr, and it is bet to Kt
it aloao.
t t
- .
4