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V 111 111 III
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THE BLESSINGS OF GOVERNMENT, LIKE THE DEWS OF HEAVEN, SHOULD BE DISTRIBUTED ALIKE UPON THE HIGH AND THE LOW, THE RICH AND THE POOR.
EW SERIES.
EBENSBURG, SEPTEMBER 15, 1858.
VOL. 5. NO 44.
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- I
LOVE AND MAY.
With Inula :ir.d thorns about lur brow,
1 met her in the woods of May,
IVn'.in beneath a loaded bough.
Sri? ferried si voting, and was so fair,
A rry f.ehns ;n rur air
rp '. morning g'i ling into day,
WiM a an untamed bird of spring,
She sported ?mid the 1 rc-t way.
TY)i"' W'lssomn pale d'ul round her e'ini:,
!'',;,! wr.j s!i a t-e bank Juiir.
'A utc humming bc-c.' keep sweetest tune ;
7'n io:il rf Vivo ws in bor I.tp.
tin wj: : t -
'. upon irsj t-ar,
l.ika df'.ijn iu liows Xruia leafy epray :
S.u K.u t V.une, a.i I fck no fear ;
S'ie loll jjc,? her oliiid'-iO'.d grew
Her j v-.'; m- keen, her care hw few:
je willed, and .aid her name waa if v.
.n-.j mr nart : ..n, :rl:n jiiav :
Ti;v firm i. t ih tuc
sliows
tb.it fleet :
Ai.l I aiu weak, ;.d .v.m, and gray !
1 ve no moro tbe things I loved :
Thr ptli4 rlierein thfii beauty moved
)- seem to fil beneath my feet.
I tr,rkd her f"r a little space ;
Ami soon the ee.ncd to herd me nt,
But gathered fi wer befre my face.
0, swct to me l.er unbuught ways!
The lovo I bore her ?ll my days
Waj bom of that wild woodland epot.
1 cTi,r calltvl her bride nr wife,
I wstched her bN ;n a little more,
A id t'..e;i jlie fade ! out of life :
She quaffed the wavo I might not drmk.
An.l I cttxHl thirsting cn the brink !
Oh! hurrying tide! oh, dreary shore !
Thtn- knew not that my heart was torn ;
Thiy aid a fever lelt n e mad,
Aa. 1 had babbled of a thorn,
A w.::;.ered May, and scattrrc l bloo,
wed 0f tear, nnd wayside tomb,
A'.aa! 'twas all the loro I had!
Au l to Hi day I am not clear ;
lly htricken mind dcth grope its way.
hike those who walk where woods arc ere :
1 c..not beo to ict apart
Two thing so crushed into my heart
As May and IvOTe and Love and May !
Still, shouting 'neath the greenwood tree,
Glad children call upon her name. ;
Hut life and time are crushed to me :
The grass is grow ing where she trod.
Above her bad a bh: ".?!'.3s sod
The- very earth is not ti e name,
Oh, heavy years, grow swift and brief!
Death, lay thine hand upon n.y brow 1
I wither as a bhrucken up leaf.
1 pcri-ilied whila my days wore young :
Tho thoughts to which my spirit clung
Ccnsumod me like sapless bough.
Asd now, O May ! my vanished May 1
H er thorns are gathered one by one,
i all their bloom is borne away,
corn is reaped, the sheaf is loimd,
'Hie gleaner's foot ii on the ground,
And pain is past and life is done. !
As U.NoiU!.".NATE Paok. During an as
fcoiuiy of the iJiet, iu Dresden, Augustus the
rong iuvited several of tho principal mem-
"fS to an rntirtainniPTit. (Minrnnncnn was
Of
COurso not wantin: a rtarp. nfih a hottV
ir and put it iu
p., r0- - -
'"cehsautly imploycd, he
to pu: big booty iu
e was unhappily not
booty
a ptacc of security
tat L
w constant motion Lavinir cause! the
;ue to ferment, just as ho was standing Le
lho king, it exploded; tho cork flew up
the ceiling, and the champagne rushed out
P0ctet " direction of the kiug's
lg and bathed it so effectually that the wiue
m streams from the curls. One part of
ac company wero frightened, while another
Lri oulu scarcely refrain from laucrhter.
T'-ge, more dead than alive, threw hi
: it the king's feet, ami his majesty iiume
tm
tcrr pilferer away, not from his
tU l" kr a rJ W'S advising hiai at
wiue time never to carry bottles with such
'"lae-o long about him.
rC!NrT- PettlC0at government is uot more
. -J now than frrmvlv, it it certainly
A RUSSIAN REMINISCENCE.
Upon one of the coldest days of February,
1853, I left Orleans by the Puiis railway.
The weather was extremely severe, the frozen
snow lay thick in the streets; tlie aspect of
the Uoulevards was slippery as glass ; sledges
scoured the Champs ; Klysees and IJois de
Bouloguc. Au icy wind whistled round the
train us we quitted tho shelter of tho station,
and I regretted as I buttoucd my coat to the
chin and fhruuk iuto my corner, that the
carriage was not full, instead of haying but
one occupant beside myself.
Opposite me sat a hale man of about sixty -five,
with a bright eye, an intelligent, good
humored countenance somewhat weather
beaten and the red rosette of the Legion of
Honor in his button-hole. During the first
half hour he pored over a letter, wnose con
tents, judging from the animated expression
of hii physioguomy, interested him strongly,
lie seemed scarcely aware of my presence.
At last he put up the letter, and then, for
the nrFt time, looked me in the face. I had
be. n but a few days out of a Bick bed, and
was sensitive to the cold, and doubtless my
appearance was wretched and wo-begone
cuough
for I detected a slight approach at a
suuilo at t!ie corners oi tne straDger a mouth.
To one or two commonplaca remarks he re
plied courteously, but laconic dly, like a man
who is neither unsociable nor averse to con
versation, but who prefers his own thoughts
t) that bald talk with which travellers some
times weary th-jinelves rather than remain
silent. So out dialogue soon dropped. The
cold increased, my feet were benumbed, and
I stamped them on the floor of the carriage
to revive the circulation. My companion
observed my proceedings with a comical look,
as if he thought mo a very tender traveller.
This car mut be bally closed," I
remarked. 'It is bitter cold to the feet."
'For that discomfort I have little pity."
replied the Frenchman. "A ride ou the
railway is socn over, aud a good tire, or a
brisk walk is a quick and easy remedy iinc
is a different case. For forty years I have
not biovu whit warm feet were."
For forty years V I repeated, thinking I
had misunderstood him.
"Yes, tir, forty years; since the winter of
lSllJ the winter ot the Uussian campaign."
"Vcu were in that terrible camnain?"
I inquired, in a tone of iuterer-t and curiosity
My companion, previously taciturn, suddenly
became eommuuicativc.
'All through it, t-ir," he replied from the
:emcu to the Kremlin and back again
It !
was my firt campaign, aud came near being
my last. I was in others afterwards; in
(Jermauy in 1813, when the combined Ger
mans and Russians drove us before them, for
want of th? brave fellows we had left in
Muscovy
s snows: in
ranee, in 1814, when
his trallant struggle
the iwnperor
made
against
overwhelming forces; and at the
scene in Flaudcrs; but net all these.
ciosiu;
! thr
ec campaigns put together, nor, as
I be-
I lieve, all that this century has witucsscd, can
match the horrors of that dreadful war in
Russia "
He paused, and leaning back in his corner,
seemed to revolve iu his mind events of pow
erful interest long gone by. I waited awhile
ii hopes lie would resume the sunject. JJut
as he did not, I asked him to what arm he
btl 'Uged Then in Russia.
"1 was assistant-surgeon in a regiment of
hussars," he answered; "and in my medical
capacity I had abundant opportunity to make
acquaintance with the horrors of war. Ou
the 7th of September, for instance, at Mosk-
urn 1 IiiVfTi ! wtirtf. a vlii iliin that woe '
Ah, it was fiue to see such vuior as that was,
on both tides for the liussiaus fought well
gallantly, fir, or where would have been the
glory of beating them? But Ney! Ney!
Oh, he was tplcndid that day! His whole
countenance gleamed, as he, again and again,
led the bloody charge, exposing him&clf as
freely as any corporal iu the ranks. And
Kugene, tho Viceroy, with what vigor he
hurled his masses against that terrible re
doubt! When at last it was his, what a
sight was there ! The ground was not strewn
with dead; it was heaped piled with them.
They had been shot down by whole ranks,
and there they lay, prostrtac in line as they
had stood."
The surgeon paused ; I thought of Byron's
bcautilul lines, beginning :
"Kven as they fell, in files they lay ;
but I said nothing, for I 6aw that my com
panion was now fairly started aud needed no
.vpurriug.
"Monsieur," he presently resumed, "all
these things have been brought strongly to
my mind by the letter you iaw me just now
reading. It is from an old friend, a captain
iu 1S1- a general now who went through
the campaigu, and whom I was so fortunate
as to save from the grave on those infernal
plains where most of our comrades perished.
1 will tell you Low it happened. We were
talking of the battle of Borodine. Seventy
thousand men, it is said, were killed and
wounded in that bloody fight. We surgeons,
as you may well think, had our hands full,
aud still could not suffice for a tithe of the
sufferers. It was a rough breaking in for a
young hand as I thou was. Such frightful
wounds as were there of every kind and de
scription, from shell, shot, and bullet, spike
aud sabre. Well, sir, all the misery I theu
saw, all the vast amount of human agony and
bloodshed, wheso stream, ascending to Heav
en, might well have brought down God's mal
ediction ou his creatures who could thusdeforui
aud deface each other, was nothing compared
with the horrible misery we witnessed on our
retreat. I have read everything that has
appeared in France concerning that cam-
paign Segur, Lebaume, and other writers.
Their narratives are shocking cuough, but
nothing to tho reality. They would have
sickened their readcis had they told all they
saw. If anybody who went' through
that
campaign could remember and set
down all
be vitnrss'ed, he "rrald nrake the m
est h-3rt-
rending book that was ever printed, and he
would be accused of gross cxajgeration. Ex
agperation, indeed ! there was no occasion to
heighten the horrors of the winter of 1812.
All that frost and famine, lead and steel,
could inflict, was then endured ; all the
crimes that reckless despair and ruthless
cruelty could prompt, were then perpe
trated." "And how," I asked, "did you escape,
when so many doubtless as strong and cour
ageous, and more inured to hardship, per
ished so miserably ?" -
"Under Providence, I owed myprescrva
tion to the trustiest aud most faithful servant
that ever master hd. P-ul had been several
years in the hussars, was an old soldier, In
tact, although still a young man ; and at a
time when all discipline and subordination
was at an end, when soldiers heeded not their
officers, officers avoided their generals, and
servants and masters were all alike and upon
a level, Taul proved true as steel. As if the
cold and the Cossacks were not enough, hun
ger was added to our sufferings ; there was
no longer a commissiriat or distribution of
rations; rations, forsooth I dead horse was a
luxury I have seen men fight for till death
lean meat though it was, for the poor brntes
were as starved as their riders. What little
there was to eat in the villages we passed
through fell to the share of the first comers.
Empty larders often smoking ruins were
all that remained for those that remained be
hind. Well, sir, when things were at the
worst and provender the scarcest, Paul al
ways hal something for me iu his haversack.
Oue day it would be a piece of bread, cn the
morrow a handful of gram, or some edible
roots, now and then a slice it horse-flesh
and how delicious that seemed, grilled over
our smoky, scanty fires ! There was never
enough to satisfy my hunger, but there was
always a something enough to keep body
and soul together. Paul, as I afterwards
discovered, husbanded his stores, for he well
knew that if he gave me all at cace, T should
save nothing, and then I must have starved
for days together, and pe-haps have fallen
from my horse from weakness. But think of
the courage and affection of the poor fellow,
himself half-starved, to carry about him from
day to day, and to refrain from eating the
food set aide for me ! There were not many
mcE in the army, even of general's rank, ca
pable of such devotion to tho dearest frh.-nd
they had. for extreme misery had induced a
ferocious selSshness. that made us more bkc
hyenas than Christian."
' 1 should t j.nk the cold
even worse to eudurc? than
must
have
been
the
huueer " said
I, screwing up my extremities, which the in
terest of the doctor'ri conversation had almost
caused mo to forirct
It was, sir, harder and more fatal nt I
least a great number died cf it; but to say j good condition most of them had been burn
the truth, frost and famine worked hau.l in I ed and knocked to pieces by the soldiers.
hand, and with such a unitv of action that it I The hous iu which Fritz lav was one of the
was often hard to say which was the cause of
death. But it was a shocking sight of a
morning to sco the poor fellows lying dead
round the bivouac fires. Uuable to resist
fatigue and the drowsy influence of the cold,
they jielded to slumber, and passed from
sleep into the arms of death. For there sleep
u-as death."
"But how then," I asked,
from Russia, for alt must
' 'did any escape
have slept at
time b :
"I do not believe that any one who es
caped did sleep, at least not of a night at the
bivouac. We used to rousa each other con
tinually to prevent our giving way, and then
get up aud walk as briskly as we could to
quickon the sluggish circulation. We slept I
upon the march in our saddles, and strange
as if may seem to you, even those on foot
slept when marching. They marched iu
groups or clusters, and "those in the ccnire
slept, supported r,y their companions, and
moved their legs mechanically. I do not say
that it was a stand, deep sleep, but rather a
sort of feverish dosing. Such as it was, how
ever, it was better than nothing, and saved
some who would otherwise have sunk. Others,
who would have given way to weariness on
the long, monotonous march, were prevented
from giving wr.v to utter despair and self
abandonment by the repeated harrassing at
tacks of the Cossacks, The excitement of
the skirmish warmed their blood and gave
them, as it seemed, fresh hold upon life. In
one of these skirmishes, or rather in a sharp
combat, a dear friend, a captain in the same
regiment, had his left arm carried off by a
cannon shot. After the affair was over. I
came suddenly upon him where he lay moan
ing by the roadside, his face ashy pale, and
his arm still hanging by the sinews. His
horse bad either galloppcd away or been cap
tured by tho fugitives.
" 'Ah, mon ami!' lie cried, when he saw
me : 'all is over I can go no further, I shall
never see France again !'
I saw, that like the majority of those who
received severe wounds in that retreat, his
moral courage was subdued and had given
way to despair. I was terribly shocked, for
I felt how slight was
his chance of escape. I !
need hardly toil j'ou that there was very little
dressing wouuds during the latter part of that
retreat Most of the surgeons were dead ;
the hospital wagons, with medicine and in
struments, had been left on the road ; trans
port for the sick was out of the question. I
assumed as cheerful a countenance as I could.
"Why, Preville" I cried, "this will not do ;
we must get you along somehow. Come,
courage, my friend ; you shall see France
again m spite of all.'
. 'Ah, doctor,' replied he, 'it's no use. Here
I shall dici All you can do for me is to blow
my brains out, and save me from the Cossack
lances.' , .... . : .
By this time I had dismounted and was at
his 6ide. Tho intense cold had stopped the
I bleedins of his wound.' I saw that there was
no lark of vitalitv in hitn.; and that;-but for
this mishap, few would have got. -out .of tho I
eaavpmgn rn belter pliit. JGven Boca
dency was perhaps his greatest danger. I
re-umded him of his wife and child (he had
been married little more than a year, and the j
news oi me Dirm ot a dauchter had reached
him on our forward aiarch.i of his haT,rv
home, his old mother of all the ties, in short
''that bound him to life.
Whilst speaking, I severed the sinews that
still retained hie shattered arm, and bound it
up as best I might. He Btill despaired and
moaned, but suffered me to do as I would:
He was like an Infant in my hands that man
who In the hour of battle was lik a lion Jto
couVLge. . But loDg suffering, and the sudden
shock occurring to, when we seemed on tho
very verge of safety had overcome his forti
tude. With Paul's help, I got him upon my
horse, The poor brute was in no case to car
ry double, so I walked and ltd it. though at
that time I could hardly hobble.
"It is all useless, my dear doctor," Pieville
said; this is my last day; I feel that, Far
better shoot me, or leave me by the roadside,
than risk your life for my sake."
I took no heed but tried to cheer him. Those
unclean beasts, the Cossacks, were hovering
around us as usual, and at times the bullets
fell pretty thick. Not a quarter of an hour
had elapsed siuce I set Preville on my horse,
when a shot struck his right eye not enter
ing the head, but glanciDg across the globe,
and completely destroying his sight. Well,
sir, then there occurred a physiological phe
nomena which I have never been able satis
factorily to account for. This man, whom
the loss of an arm had reduced to despair,
seemed to derive fresh courage from the loss
of an eye. At any rate from that moment he
complained no more of his fate, resumed his
usual mauly tone, and bore up like a hero.
Paul was lucky enough to catch a riderless
horse, which I mounted. Tho worst was
over, and we soon got a respite. Without
troubling you with details, and incredible as
it may seem to you, my poor friend escaped
with life, although with a limb and an eye the
less.
"There must have been a great many ex
traordinary escapes from that campaign," I
remarked.
Innumerable. There was a seargeut of
dragoone. a former comrade of my servant's,
who for many day3 marched beside me aud
Paul. I In received a severe w.mud. There
were still some vehicles with us at that time,
and we gut him a place in one of them, and
made him as comfortable as we could. Tho
followiug night we stopped at a town, lu
the morning as we were about to march, the
Cossacks came down. There was great con
luMon;
several bapfiae carts were captured
in the streets, and soma of the wounded were
abandoned in the houses where they had pas
sed the Dight. Amongst these wa? Serceant
Fritz. Not man houes in the town were in
most comfortable in the place; on which ac
count it had been converted iuto a tempoiary
hospital. Well, the Russians came in, bro't
in their wounded, and turned out our poor
fellows, to make room for them. Some who
could not move quick enough, were brutally
pitched out of a low window iuto a garden be
hind the house, there to perish miserably.
Fritz was one- of these. Only just able to
crawl, he mado his way rouud the garden,
seeking egress, He reached a gate commu
nicating with another garden. It was locked
and paiu and weakness, forbade him climbing
over." He sat close to the gate propped up
against it, looking wistfully through the bars
at the windows of a house and at the cheerful
glow of a fire, when he was perceived by a
young girl. She came out aud opened the
gate aud helped mui into tue Louse, iter
lather was a German clockmaker, long set
tled in Russia, and Fritz, a Swiss, spoke Ger
man well. The kiud people put him to bed,
hid his uniform, and tended him like a son.
When, in the follow iug spring, bis health was
restored, and he would have left them, the
German proposed to him to remain aud assist
him in his trade. lie accepted the offer, mar
ried the German's daughter, and remained in
Russia until his father-iu-law's death, when
he was taken with a longtug to revisit his na
tive mountains, and returned to Switzerland
with his family. I met him since at Paris,
and he told me his story, . But although his
escape was narrow and romantic enough,
there must have been others much more re
markable. Most of the prisoners made by the
Russians, and who survived severe cold and
harsh treatment, were seut to Moscow to la
bor at re-building the city. When the fine
season came some of them managed to escape,
and make their way iu various disguises, and
through countless adventures, back to their
own country."
I have set down but the most striking por
tions of our conversation or rather of the
doctor's ' narrative, since I did nothing but
listen, and occasionally, by a qucEtion or re
mark, direct his communicativeness into the
channel I wished it to take. Y were now
near Orleans.
"The letter I was reading, when we started
said my companion, and which has brought
back to my memory all that I have told you
at risk perhaps, of wearying you, .be ad
ded, with a slight bow aud smile, and a host
of other circumstances to me, of thrilling and
everlasting interest is from General Preville,
who lives m the south of France, but who has
come unexpectedly to Orleans to pass a month
with me. That is his way. He lives happi
ly with a married daughter; but now and then
the desire to see an old comrade, and to fight
old battles over again,- comes so strongly up
on him that he has hia . valise packed at an
hour's notice, and takes me by surprise He
knows well' that the 'General's Room. and
an affectionate reception always await him.
I received his letter full rf references' to old
times-r-yestcrday evening,-and am uow hur
rying back to Orleans, to ..see .him. Very
likely JhejnayLuwAtting for me at the sta
tion; and you-will ?e to or a nr.n whr
cave himself np for dead forty years go in
the snows of Pmsaia, and begged ns a favor
that I would put a bullet through bis brain.
he looks tolerably hearty and eatisfied to live
"There is one thing, Monsieur le Docteur,
I said, "which I do not understand. Did
you mean literally what you said, that since
I the Russian -campaign you never had felt
what warm feet were
-: "Literally and truly, sir. When we got
to Orcha, where Jomiui was in command, and
where the heroic Ney, ,v.ho had been separa
ted from the army, rejoined us with the skel
eton "of his corps having cut his way,- by
r sheer valor and soldiership, through clouds of
Platoff's Cossacks we took a day s rest. , It
was the 20th of November, the lait day of
anything approaching to comfort, which we
were to enjoy before crossing the Russian
frontier. True, vre made one more halt at
Molodetschino, whence Napoleon dated his
bulletin of our terrible disasters, but then on
ly a portion of us tould find lodging; wo were
sick, half frozen, and numbers died in the
streets. At Orcha we found shelter and tran
quality; the governor had provided provisions
agaiu&t our passage, the enemy left us quiet,
and we enjoyed a day of complete repose.
My baggage had long since been lost, and
my only pair of boots were torn to shreds. I
had been riding with fragments of a soldier's
jacket tied round my feet, which I usually
kept out of the stirrups, the contact of the
iron increasing tLe cold. At Orcha, the in
valuable Paul brought me a Jew (the Jews
were our chief purveyors on that retreat) with
boots for sale. I selected a pair and threw
away my old ones, which for many days I had
not taken off. Mv feet wore already in a
bad state, sore and livid I bathed them,
put on fresh stockings and my newboots, and
contrived with a pair of old trousers, a sort
of leercinfrs or overalls, closed at the bottom.
and to worn over the boots. From that day
till we got beyond the Niemen, a distance of
one nundreel and ten leagues, wuicn we iook
three weeks to perform, I never took off any
part of my dress. During tht time I suffer
ed greatly from my feet; they swelled till my
boots were tco tight lor me. and at times
was m agony.
Whcn we were comparative- j
.T ,
ly in safety, aud I found mysdf, for the first
time since I left Orcha, in a warm room with j
h.. to lie unon and water to wash. I called I
Paul to pull off my boots Sir. with them
came off my stockiugs, and the entire skin of
both feet. A flayer's knife could hardly have
done the thing more completely. For a mo
ment I gave myself up as lost. I had seen
enough of this kind of thing to know that my
feet were 0G iho verge of mortification. There
tfas scarcely time to amputate, had any one
been at baud to do it. and had I been willing
to preserve life at such a price. Only one
thing could save me, and I resolved to try it.
1 ordered Paul to brinrr me s bottle of bran-
dy; I put a piece of rilver between my teeth,
and bade him pour the stints over my teet.
I cau eive you no idea of the excrutiatiu; tor
ture 1 then eudured. It was agony but it
was safety. 1 bit the florin nearly in two, and
broke this tooth." (Here the doctor drew
up his lip and exhibited a elefective tooth, in
company with ff.ne very white and powerful
crindcts ) "TLe martyrdom caved me; I
recovered, but the new inscguments which in
time covered my feet, seem chilled by the re
collection of their predecessors sufferings,
and from that day to this I have never had
my feet otherwise than eld. Uut nere we
arc at Orleans, sir, and yonder, as I expec-
ted. stauds my old Preville.
Ihe train stopped as ho concluded, and a
line looking veteran, with wbitji.'iair, an emp
ty sleeve aud a silken' patch over one eye,
peered inquisitively into the carnages. Lik
most Kuglishmen, I have a particular aver-ait-n
to the continental fashion of men kissing
and hutrcinc, each other, but I coLfess I be
held with interest and sympathy the cordial
embrace of these two old comrades, who then
quickly separated, aud, with hands graeped,
looked joyously and affectionately into each
othei'a faces, whilst a thousand recollections
of old kindness and iorg cemradeskip were
evidently swelling at their hearts. Iu his
-i
joy, my travelling companion oia not iorgct
the attentive listener, whose journey he had
so airrceablv shortened. Tumiue to me. he
prssented me to the general, as an English
ma;, and a uew acquaintance, and then cor
dially invited me to pass the rest' of the da'
at his house. But tho business that took me
to Orleans was urgent, and my return to Pa-
ris must be 6peedy. And had it been other-
wtse, l ttiiuK 1 Etui suouiu nave scrupieu w
"W . 1 1 .11 ! 1. A.
restrain, by a strangers presence, tue urst
blow of intimate comuiumon to vhich the two
friends looked forward with such warm and
nleasurable feelinzs. So I rrratefully decli
ned, but pledged niyselr to take advantage
of the doctor s hospitality upon my next visit
to Orleans When that occurs, I Minll hope
a a a w 1
to glean another Russian Reminjsccnco.
Monakcii Axr Mimic. One of the officers
of his guard was mimicking him (the Empe
ror Paul) in the palace, for the entertainment
of his comrades, when the door opened, aud
the Czar entered. The officers wcjc about to
stop the performer, but his majesty made
them a sign not to do so, and advancing un
perceived by the young man, be crossed his
arras before him, and ordered him to go on.
The oflicer, with pcrtect seJl-commata. con
tinued. 6a vine. "Lieutenant, you deserve to
be degraded, but being clemency itself, I
notl
only pardon you, but promote you to a cap
taincy." This'was said in the Czar's way,
who then exclaimed, "Be it so," and walked
away.
$3T The ?on of a good father, when going
to war, promised to bring home tbe head of
r rf tlm iinomv. His narent replied, "I
should be glad to see you come home without
a head, provided you come safe."
.. , , The city, of New York consumes ten
thousaud dollars . a day ia cigars, and only
cizbt tWaad in bread
' "An "Arab Horse.
A Bedouin, named Jabal, possessed a mare
mf great celebrity. Hassan Pasha, then Gov
ernor of Darna&cns, wished to buy the animal,
and repeatedly made the owner tuo mott
liberal offers, which Jtbsl steadily refused.
The Pasha then bad recourse to threat?, but
with no better success. At length one Gafar.
a Bedouin of another tribe, presented himself
to tbe Pasha, and asked him what he would
give the man who would make him master of
Jubal's mare? "I will fill ibis borse'a nose
bag with, gold."; replied Hassan. -The result
of this iutcrview having gone abroad, Jabal
became more watchful than ever, and always
secured his marc at night with an iron chain-,
one end of which wai fastened to her bin!
fetlock, whilst the other, after passing thfd
the tent cloth, was attached to a picket driv
eu in the ground under the felt that served htm
aud his wife for a bed. But one night Gafar
crept silently into the tent, and loosened tho
chain. Just before starting off with his prize,
he caught up JaLal's lance, and poking him
with the butt-end, cried out: "I am Gafar;
I have stolen your noble mare, and will give
you notice iu time." This warning ws in
accordance with the customs of the desert,
for to rob a hostile tribe is considered an hon
orable exploit, aud thjman who accomplishes
it is desirous of all the glory that may flow
from the deed. Poor Jabal, when he heard
the words, rushed out of the tent and gave
the alarm; then mounting his brother's mare,
accompanied by some ot" the tribe, he pur
sued the robber for four hours. The broth
er's mare was of the same stock as Jabal',
but not equal to her; but nevertheless, he
outstripped those of all the other pursuers,
and was even on the point of overtaking the
robber, when Jabal shouted to him, "Pinch
her right car and give her a touch of the
heel." Gafar did so, and away went tha
mare like lightning, speedily rendering fur
ther pursuit useless. The pinch on tho ear
and the touch with tbe heel were tLe secret
signs by which Jabal had been used to urge
his mare to her utmost speed. Jabal's com
panions were amazed and indignant at his
strange conduct. "O. thou father of a jauk-
ass," they cried, "thou hast enabled the thief
to rob thee of thy jewel." JJut be silenced
their upbraidings by saying, "1 would rather
lose her than Eully her reputation Would
you have mt suffer it to be said among the
tribes that another mare bad. proved better
than mine? I have, at least, this comfort
left me, that I cau say she never mtt with
her match" J. It. Jiarex't Art of llort
Turning.
Invlcbnce or Female Socistt. It is bet
ter for you to puss an evening once or lwic
in a lady s drawing-room, even though the
conversation is slow, and you know the girl's
song ty mart, man in a ciud, tavern, or tae
j pit of a theatre. All amusements of youth to
wnicu virtuous womeu are not aammeu, reiy
on it, are ueliterious in their nature All meu
who avoid female society have dull percep
tions, and arc stupid, or have gross tastes.
and revolt against what is pure. IT our club
swaggerers, who are sucking the butts of
billiard cues all night, call female society in
sipid. Poetry is insipid to a yokel ; boauty
has no charms to a blind man ; music does not
please a poor beast who does not know ona
tune from another ; and as a true epicure is
hardly ever tired of water sanchy and browu
bread and butter, 1 profess I can sit for a
whole night talking to a well-regulated, kind
ly woman, about her girl coming out, or bar
boy at Eton, and like the evening's enter
tainment. One of the createst benefits a man
may derive fremjjwomen's society is, that he
is bound to be respectful lo them. The habit
is of great good to 3-our moral man. depend
upon it. uur naucation mates or us tue
most eminently seinsb meu in the world.
We fight for ourselves, we push for ourselves,
t- 1 - 1 .
we yawn lor ourselves, we ngni our pipes.
and say we won't go out ; we prefer ourselves
and our ease ; and the greatest good that
comes to a man from a woman's society is.
that he has to think of somebody beside
himself, somebody to whom heisbouu to bed
constantly attentive and respectful Thak
eray
A Generous Monarch. Alf nso V of
Aragon was torn in 1385, and died 1454. -
His character, chivalrous and generous, is il
lustrated by the followiug anecdotes : Cu
1 day bis treasurer was paying him ten thous-
and ducats; an olhcer who was present said
1 a. r al
ma low vcice, not meant lor tne King s car.
1 ' 1 hat sum is all 1 need to make me nappy.
1 The kinjr, however, heard him, and said,
Thou sbalt be happy', then ;" and immedi-
- atelv ordered the ten thousand ducats to ba
paid to bun. lo render niruselt more popu-
iar. Alfonso wrs in tne naDit ot walking in
the streets cf his capital ou foot and unatten
ded. When representations were made to
him of the danger there was in thus exposing
himself, he replied. "A father who walks in
the midst of his children has nothing to fear."
One of his courtiers having asked hirn who
were those of his subjects whom he loved the
most? "Those," he auswered, "who fear
for me more than they fear me." Seeing ono
day, a calley filled with soldiers ou the point
0f sinking, he ordered immediately that sue
or t,0uli be civeu. Sccinjr those around
him hesitate, ho leaped into a boat, and cried
! like better to be the companiou thta
the spectator of their death." The soldiers
were saved. Alfonso seems to have had wit
as well as nobleness. He was in the habit of
saying, that to constitute a happy household,
it was necessary that tha husband should ba
deaf and the wife blind.
3?r The following epitaph was written on
ron.liniT cf this death of a vouu lady w hosts
1 name wa5 gtonc .
j Curiocs cneugn, we all mmt say.
J That what was Sten should now be ekiy ;
Moro curios tM. to own we must.
i rbatwUAt -V
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