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THE BLEUOTOa OF HnumT. 11 THE Cm OF BtATM. SHODl D, DI3TBIB0TX9 ALIKE CTO TEE B, i, THE VCW, THE MB TBI WOE.
JEW SERIES.
EBENSBURG. Pi. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 12 1861.
VOL. 8 SO. 21
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TERMS:
LtlX
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THE LAW OF NEWSPAPERS.
1. Subcriders who do not give express notice
to ;he contrary, are considered as wishing tocon
snue their subMiriptlon.
2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of
newspapers, the publisher may contiuue to send
them until all arrearages are paid.
3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their
papers from the office to Which they are directed,
Vnev are held responsible until they have settled
the'bills and ordered them discontinued.
4. If subscribers remove to other places with
out icfjrmiug the publisher, and the newspapeis
re sent to tha former direction, they are held
responsible.
The CDiirta have also repeatedly decided that a
P,tma.ster who neglects to perform his duty of
giving reasonable notice as required by the regu
lalatiHus or the Fcst Office Department, of the
nez'ect of a person to take from the office news
papers a-lbressed to him. renders the Postmaster
iible to the publisher for the subscripion.
I'artiou IJroivnlow's Daughter.
A gentleman just arrived in thi city from
ILuoxville, Tetn., brings intolligence of af
uirs ia that city. He informs us that 2,500
SrCtfMonists are Stationed there, for the ex
press purpose of overawing the Union men.
It is a i art cf their business to crjgago in
(parrels in saloons, and :n 6treet fights, with
k'l who are not friendly to secession. Two
men were shot last week for no other offence
isa speaking words of loyalty to the Feder
t! Government.
The house of the celebrated, bold hearted,
izi out ppokes Parson Brownlow, is the on
ly cue in Knoxviile over which the Stars and
c:ripes are floating. A few days ago two
KiLci Secessionists went, at 6 o'clock in the
Boraicg, to hal down the Stars and Stripes.
5iL Brownlaw, a brilliant young lady of
ttrenty-three, saw them on the piazza, and
tepr-ed out and demandea tneir tusine3
They replied that they had coma to "take
down them d- d Stars and Stripes." She
instantly diew-a tevolver from hor side, and
preying it said, Go on ! I'm good for one
of you, and I thiuk for both.!'
'By the looks of that girl's eye, she will
sloot, one reruatked. I tliLk we'd better
not try it; we'll go back and get more men,
old the other.
'Go and get more men,' soid the noble la
tj, 'get more men, and come and take it
dawn, if you dare !'
They returned with a company of ninety
iraied men, and demanded that the flag sho'd
be hauled down. Bat on discovering that
Rehouse was filled with gallant men, armed
to the teeth, who would rather die as dearly
w possible, than see their country's flag dis
honored, the Secession iU retired.
XThcn cur informant left .Knoxviile, the
Stars and Stripes still floated to the breeze
JTer Parson Brownlow house. " Long may
&ty wave! Chicago Tributie.
Speak Well Of Otbirb. If the disposi
Jioa to speak well of others were universally
prevalent, the world would become acompar
Wvo Paradice. The oposite disposition is
lie Pandora -box which, when opened, fill cv
try house with pain and sorrow. How many
wmities and heart-burnings flow from this
urce ! How much happiness ia interrupted
a destroyed ! Envy, jealousy ana tne ma
lignant spirit of evil, when they find vent by
te lips, go forth on their mission, like foul
knds, to blast the reputation and peace of
Khers. Every one has his imperfections;
Aadin the conduct of the best there will be
ftcational faults which might seem to justify
animadversion.
It is a good rule, however, when there is
4tc&son for fault-finding, to do it privately to
te erring one. This may prove salutary.
It is a proof of interest in the individual,
vhich will generally be taken kindly, if the
dinner of doing it is not offensive. The
common and unchristian rule, on the contrary,
i to proclaim the failings of others to all but
emselves.' This is unchristian, and shows a
despicable heart.
The man that don't advertise has got bis
s'ore hunz all around with shingles and pieces
Wrel heads, inscribed in lamp-black with.
tosh PerUfe,' "Korn Meel," lower,
All Kinds of kountry prodoose. "Jialiker,
?i Kandles, For Sail hear." He says, "Thar .
jm't no sense in noospaper advertising, so long j
M a man u , smart cnuff to tcui to his own bus-
f! and kin 6tand at tfye oor sad boiler the
-ltr in." " " " " "
WAITIXG FOR ITER LOVER.
Every eve, when I'm returning
From the labors of the day.
As I pass a lonely cottage
That is falling to decay,
I behold a patient woman
Through the little window pane.
Looking, with an air expectant,
Down the narrow, grassy lane.
White as snow her scanty tresses,
Wrinkles on her thoughtful brow,
And her cheeks are furrowed deeply
With the lines that Time can plow.
Seventy winters, long and dreary
From their heavy clouds have shed
Flakes of never changing .whiteness
On the patient woman's head.
Fifty years ago her lover
Stood beside her in the lane,
Saying, as they parted ' Hannah,
Sunday night I'll come again ;
Let me see you at the window.
As I hasten up the lane
God be with you, dear, remember,
Sunday night IH come again.
But before that precious evening,
Sweeter to that maiden's mind
Than a bed of early violets
Kissed by gentle April wind.
Came to bless her with his presence,
Longingly for which she sighed,
He, the most beloved lover
That e'er blessed a inaiden died.
Well-a-day for loving Hannah,
When they told her he was dead.
Her devoted mind forever
From its shattered mansion fled.
Gentle as an April sunbeam,
Patient as a mother's love,
Hopeful as the earnest Christian
Who has moored his hopes above.
She through all these fifty winter
Hath believed herself again
Loving and loving as of old time,
When they parted In the lane.
Every day to her is Sunday,
And, behind the window pane.
Every eve she sits and watches
For brr lover, down the lane.
MY MATRIMOMALDRt tM.
Quiet and lonely as the oil statue that
stands and looks at the dark caken roof con
tinually in an old church ; but not so happy
My wife for I am married, gentle reader, j
would that I were not has gone to tba tLca- ;
tre. I have rumaged out some letters, sai (
and bitter remembrances, and read thr-m
through and through, and it strikes me j
that ike world should and ought to know some ;
of my misfortunes. So it shall; and may it j
profit by the lesson.
One autumn day last year, I believe six
months ago this very week. Charles Cowley j
and I were sitting in my counting-house,
cracking walnuts and bad jokes. Our talk
was of sundry things ; and at last it turned,
as it often did, upon Charley's bride, for he
was never tired of hearing of her, and I was
always willing to give him pleasure. It's
Just my way, and the world's, too; everybo
dy first and self afterward. But I have lea n
ed a lesson ; though I have said so before.
In my turn, Crowley began to tease me about
my old lacb,elor habits ; the primness of my
room; the polish of my boots; and other
signs as unmistakable ; and spoke of little
Emily, whom people, and and, in fact, I
thought, and she thought, too, was just the
wife for me. We tired of this, however, and
sat spoiling our teeth in silenoe when, at length,
he burst into a laugh, and pulled a paper from
hia pocket.
Arthur," cried he, "1 have it. Here's
the London Journal, and there's (and he qi?o
ted from it) 'Alice B , twenty, fair, with
beautiful eyes, splendid teeth, Grecian nose,
and considered very pretty, has .600 a year
in her own right, and wants to meet with a
young man, who must be dark and tall, to
whom she would make an affectionate and
loving wife.' Now, then, write to her, and
your fortune is made. Think of 600 a year,
all safe, safe as a bank if you try. Come,
consider your whiskera."
And we laughed in concert. He handed
me the paper, which I took with a "pish,"
but looked At. notwithstanding. Cowley went
on teasing me some time longer, and then
left me, and the paper, too, and went
home to his fireside, and wife, and to happi
ness. .
Now, to tell you the truth though the world
did not know it, I was engaged to as pretty a
little girl as ever you saw. with such a sweet
face and loving blue eyes, which were more
charming for me than all else. Oh, what a
fool I was ! The remembrance almost drives
me mad. ,
Well if I didn't write to this London Jour-
t jj, fm,." and sought for a mee
h . AU For x wkUcd .
rLt tni i
eeting
but
there was no notice. A fortnight, Btill none.
At length there was a request "that Leonard
G , for that was the name I had adopted
would address "Alice B , post office,
Rugby."
I thought it a good joke, so I sat down and
wrote to her. I described the color of my
eyes and hair, the shape of my nose, my
height and the state of my teeth, and let me
see; no, I don't think I did my weight.
And I said what a fond husband I would
make; and I told her how. her 600 and my
600 for I thought it would not do to seem
poorer than she would keep us in such a
handsome way, with such a nice carriage and
servants and ponies, and I don't know what.
And I grew quite enthusiastic on the select
ness of the society in which I visited, and the
great folks I knew ; and I remember that I
remained her "ever deeply attached Leon
ard." O ! how I laughed when I finished
the letter, but it was a hollow laugh, though
the wall and hosiery cupboards rang again.
O, dear ! the memory almost I can hardly
get on ; but I will not let my feelings over
come me.
I posted my letter and then went and saw
Emily, who was starting next morning, for
rather a long visit very long I thought it
then to a fashionable watering place. What
a pleasant night we had, and how she played
acd eang to me, and said how soon I should
forget her, and then she langhed and looked
so pretty for she did not think I would ; no,
not for a moment. And those blue eyes of
hers looked bluer and more lovingly when
they reflected my own, and I gazed into her
lovely face. But I was not quite happy. I
felt I had done wrong ; and more especially
when I kL-sed her as I said good bye. It was
the last, last tiaae.
Three days after a letter came from Alice,
full of romantic allusions to birds, of love and
kindred hearts, mutual attachments and un
known passions ; and smelling uncommon
strong of patchouli; and ending with a re
quest that I would meet her at Rugby on the
following Monday at one o'clock, near the
bittern of High ttreet, where sh would walk
with a sprig of myrtle in her hand, and she
Loped I would carry a thin stick.
I do not know what evil spirit tempted me
but I went to Rugby. " Just for the fan of
the thing," and I walked up and dowc High
street expecting her for upwards of an hour.
At length, I saw a thin, fair, grey-eyed gtrl
coming around the corner, with a Eprig cf
myrtle. I was very nigh running away ; but
I didn't. We nearcd each other, she spoke,
and called me Leonard.
" Hiss Alice," I exclaimed.
i' The same, dear Leonard; how late you
are Here's my sister coming." And she
introduced me and continued, I am so fond
of you already ; are you not Emily V
This ppeal to her sister recalled to my
memory my angel love ; and I stammered out
something about nothing in earnest, and it
being all a joke. Certainly she was quite in
earnest ; and did not mean it for a joke at all.
She knew that marriages were made in hea
ven, and ours among the number.
She never thought though I have often
how many marriages notices" must have
changed their envelopes in the act of coming
dowc.
This was getting awkward ; and I asked if
she lived near, as I wished to have a few se
rious words with her.
" To be sure," and she simpered " dear,
dear Leonard, how glad mamma will be to
see you. We live just around the corner."
I wish a mighty chasm had opened them,
as one did in Rome once, that I might have
offered myself a sacrifice to my own love, as
Curtius did for his country ; but alas ! t did
not. I was aroused from my revcria about
Rome and Emily and Curtius and myself, by
Alice's teasing me, and saying J dui not look
much like a lover.
If she had said that J. did not feel like one
ahe would told the truth and she did, may
be, as it was.
O ! here's mamma," she exclaimed, as
we reached the door, in front of which, a tall
matronly-looking woman stood, partly hiding
from view a brass plate, endorsed,
" Oakes Plumber," Alice B ! Oakes.
Wljo ever spelt Qakes with a B ? Hoax !
enough I thought.
" Won't you walk in, eirl?' gaid mamma.
I did into the parlor, I suppose, for there
was a sheet of fancy pink and white paper in
the grate; and shepherds and shepherdesses,
looking very stiff and dirty, and in awkward
positions not near so awkward as mine, tho
on the mantle-piece, over which bung an
oil painting of Mr. .Oakes as I afterward
discovered in an elaborate gilt frame, cov
ered with yellow game to prcserye jt from
spot and blemish.
And there was a great deal of fancy net
work lying on the table ; and a piano stood
in the corner .of the room, the floor of which
was covered with a very gaudy carpet.
These things I noticed while Alice took
hex bonnet .off. When she came she thanked
me for the many letters I ba4 scni her. Ma
ny letters ! I had only written one. But
she had several written In a cramped hand
writing, which I told her were not mine. It
seemed another had written to her. I tried
to escape saying how sorry I was that she had
been put to the trouble she had about me.
But she wasn't ; and if I wanted a wife, which
I must do or why had I come ? she would
love me, oh ! so tenderly. And she threw
herself into my arms and begau to cry.
Did you ever have a weeping girl in your
arms, young fellow ? I hope not. for you
must have made a fool of yourself if you ever
had. At least I did, thoroughly.
Papa came ind welcomed me, and I cheer
ed up a little, and trusted to my luck to get
off, scott free. We passed a very curious
night, very, very different from that night
with Emily. Nothing in the way of conver
sation, but remarks about the heavy state
of the lead market and the dullness of the
weather.
I retired late to my inn, having nicely es
caped a sentimental scene in the hall ; and
intending to run away next morning I slept
soundly in that determination. I awoke early,
dressed, breakfasted, and was just getting in
to the omnibus, when the father stopped me
and asked for a word in a private room.
What he said, I need not tell jou. I got
into a passion", so did he. At last he threat
ened to expose me and ruin my trade forever.
Was I to tamper with a young and innocent
girl's affections for nothing ? No, indeed I
wasn't ; I was touched to the quick. In an i
hour we left the room together ; and I have j
never looked up since. In three weeks I
married Alice.
Emily, I heard was taken ill, and in three
months married Cowley's brother. My cus
tomers and friends, when they knew all,
which they did as soon as the babbling tongue
of scandal got in full play, left me. My bus
iness declined rapidly. My wife, whose 600 j
a year proved to be a capital of 1 6s. 4d., !
rates me and taunts me, and cries, and goes
into hysterics, and gets money out of me for
somo poor deserving relative of hers who
would do anything for me I suppose, in the
way of eating and driak'ng and spending my
moneys out each long' day and I have no
quiet moment except when I am asleep in j
the garret by myself ; for I lie there as my
best bed is occupied by my wife (paugh !)
and her 'dearsister Emily.' I am going to
poverty quickly, and have pa hope, po one
to pity me.
As I said before, my wife u at the theater. !
Hark ! there she is at the door. She must
not see this. I sit and pretend to be asleep.
She entars and touches me and says :
Arthur, asleep on your wedding night ?'
I was indeed ; and had a wretched dream,
while Emily, my own dear, little Emily had
been disrobing a.t the hotel in Covent Gar
den, where we spent our wedding night' We
had just arrived ; and whilst she was up
stairs, I had scanned the last sheet of a Lon
don periodical, full, as it always is. of matri
monial paragraphs; and tired as I was, I had
gone to sleep with the paper in my hand and
a iova paragraph in my uieuiory.
I told my wife, my own dear wife, about
my dream ; and we often laugh at its remem
brance even now, and when I am tired or
grave at all, she sits down at my feet, cros
ses her little round arms upon my knees, and
asks, in 6uch a laughing way, if I am think
ing of Alice B.
A BsAimruL Thought. Life is beautiful
ly compared to a fountain fed by a thousand
streams, that perishes if once it be dried. It
is a silver cord twisted with a thousand strings,
that part asunder if one be broken, frail
and thoughtless mortals are surrounded by
innuumerable dangers, which make it much
more strange they escape so long, than that
they all perish suddenly at last. We are sur
rounded dy accidents every day. t o crush the
mouldering tenements that we inhabit. The
seeds of disease are planted in our constitutions
by nature. The earth and the atmosphere,
whence we draw the breath of life, is pregnant
with death health is made to operate its own
destruction? The food that nourishes, con
tains the elements of its decay ; the soul that
animates it by a vivifying fire, tends to wear
it opt by Jts oyn action ; death lurks in am
bush along our paths, withstanding this
is the truth, so palpably confirmed by the dai
ly examples before your eyes, how little do we
lay it to heart. We see our friends and neigh
bors perish among s, but how seldom does
it occur to our thoughts, "that our knell shall,
perhaps give the next fruitles? warning to the
WOrld 1 , -.it -
-"My motto through life," Bays J. J
Astor, " has been, work and advertise. In
business, advertising is the true philosopher's
stone that turns whatever it touches into gold.
I have advertised much, and for every one
hundred dollars invested in this way I have
realized a thousand."
Some one blamed'Mr.' March for changing
his mind. 'Well,' said he, 'that's ju-t the dif
ference between a man and a jaokass, ho jack
ass can't ohangc his mind, and a man can, it's
a Tiumaa" p?tleg',
TTonderfuI Ijos Rolling: out TTest.
An Englishman who was lately travelling
on the Mississippi River told some tough sto
ries about the London thievta. A Cincinna
ti chap, named Case, heard these narratives
with a silent but expressive 'humph', and
then remarked that he thought the western
thieves beat the London operators all hollow.
How so V inquired the Englishman, with
surprise. 'Pray, sir, have you lived much
in the West V
Not a great deal. I undertook to set up
a busines at the Des Moines Rapids a while
ago, but the rascally people stole everytbieg
I bad, and finally a Welsh miner ran off with
my wife.'
'Good Gracious !' said the Englishman,
'and you never found her V
Never to thii day. But that was not the
worst of it.'
'Worst ! Why, what could be worse than
stealing a man's wife Y
Stealing his children, I should say,' said
the implacable Case.
'Children !'
Yes, for a nigger woman who hadn't any
of her own, abducted my youngest daughter,
and sloped and joined the Ingins
'Great heavens ! Did you see her do it V
See her ? Yes, and she had'nt ten rods
the start of me ; but she plunges into the
lake and swam like a duck, and there war n't
a canoe to follow her with.'
The Englishman laid back in h;a chair and
called for another mug of aff-an-aff, while
Case smoked his cigar and credulous friend
at the 6me time, most remorselessly.
I I sba'nt go any farther West I do
think,' at length observed the excited John
Bull.
I should not advise any one to go,' said
Case quietly. My brother once lived there,
but he had to leave, although his business
was the best in the country.'
What business was he in, pray?
Lumbering and a saw-mill.
And they stole his lumber V
Yes, and his saw-logs too
Saw logs!
'Yes. Whole dozens of fine black walnut
logs were carried off in a skgle night true,
upon my honor, sir. He tried every way to
prevent it ; had men hired to watch Lis legs,
but it was all of no usa. They would whip
'em away as easily as if there bad been no
body there. They would steal them out of
the river, out cf the cove, and even out of
the mill ways.'
Good Gracious J'
'Just to give you a idea how they can
steal oat here,' continued Case, sending a sly
wink at the listening company, 'just to give
you an idea did you ever' work in a saw
mill?'
'Never.'
Well, my brother one day bought an all
fired fine black walnut log four feet three
at the but and not a knot in is. He was de
termined to keep Oiat log, anyhow, and hired
two Schotchmen to watch it all night.
Well, they took a small demijohn of whiskey,
with them, snaked the log up the side hill
above the mill, and built a fire, and then sot
dowu on ths log fo play keerds, just to keep
awake you see. 'Twas a monstrous big log
bark two inches thick. Well, as I was
saying, they played keerds and drunk whis
key all night, and, as it began to grow light,
went to sleep a straddle of the log. About a
minute after day light, George went over to
tho mill to see how thoy got on, and the log
teas gone P
And they setting on it V
'Sitting op tfi Lark The thieves had
drove an iron wedge into the but end, which
pinted down hill, and hitched a yoke of oxen
on, and pulled it right out, leaving the bark
and the Scotchers setting a straddle of it,
fast asleep.'
The Englishman here rose, dropped Lis ci
gar stump into the spittoon, and looking at
his watch, said he thought that he would
go on deck and see how far we'd be down
the river before morning.
The Bbidz. I know of no sight more touch
ing and charming than that of a young and
timid bride, in her robes cf virgin white, led
up trembling to the altar.
When I thus behold a lovely girl in the
tenderness of her years, forsaking the house
of her father tnd the home of .her childhood
and with tho implicit confidence and the
sweet self-abandonment which belongs to -wo
men, giving up all the world for the man of
her choice ; when I hear her, in the good old
language of the ritual, yielding herself to
him. V for better for worse, for richer for
poorer, in rickness and in health, to lpve,
honor and obej, tiU death do us part," It
brings to mind the beautiful and affecting de
votion of Ruth "Whither thou goest I wu
go, and where thou lodges!, I will lodge; thy
people shall be my people, and thy God my
God." Irvini.
Andrew Jackson's Three Swords.
Jackson's life, says the New York Tfimet,
was full of opportunities for the display of pa
triotism and courage, if not always of practi
cal wisdom and calm statesmanship. He was
certainly, to an unexampled degree, an ob
ject of popular idolatry. Tennessee presen
ted him with a sword ; the citizens of Phila
delphia gave him another; and the riflemen
of New Orleans endowed him with a third.
We mention only these among the hundred
other testimonials that honored his active ca
reer or graced his retirement, because thej
have a history connected with the present as,
well as the past a history whicb. were the
dead permitted to ereik, would evoke a voice
of indignaat denunciation from the old hero's
grave.
13y his will. Geo. Jackson bequeathed the .
first of the. three swords to his nephew and
adopted son, Andrew Jackson Docelscn;
the second to bis grandson, Andrew Jackson,
Jr., and the third to his grand-nephew. An
drew Jackson Coffee. The clause relative tq
the first runs thus
'Seventh I bequeath to my well beloved
nephew. Andrew J. Donelson. son of Samuel
DGLelson, deceased, the elegant sword pre
sented to me by the State of Tennessee, with
this injunction, that he fail not to use it in,
support and protection of our glorious Union,
when necessary, and for the protection of thq
constitutional rights of our beloved country,
should they bo assailed by foreign enernies oi
domestic traitors."
Where is Andrew J. Ponelspn sow, and to
what use is be applying this legacy of his
great kinsman, consumed to his presum
ed patriotism, accompanied with so solemn
an injunction ? In the ranks of rebellion,
figting against "Our glprious Union V Am
ong 'domestic trailers." battling for the
overthrow of "the constitutional aights of our
country" through the destruction of the Con
stitution itself. Again
"I bequeath to my beloved grandson, An
drew Jackson, son of Androw Jackson, Jr.,
and Sarah, his wife, the sword presented to
me by the citizens of Philadelphia, with this
injunction, that he will always nee it in de
fence of the Constitution and our glorious
Union, and the perpetuation of our Republi
can system."
And where is this Andrew Jackson, hon?
ored by bis patriotic grandfather, and where
is the sword it trusted to his keepinz ? It is
rusting in its Ecabbard zt home, while trea
son is hewing at the Constitution, and the
eannon of rebellion thundering against the
Union. The uegenerate grandson is himself
on the side of the traitors, aiding by bis in
fluence and his money the conspirators who
are thus m arms against Loth, and who are
battling for the overthrow cf cur .'republican
system.
And again
"To my grand-nephew, Andrew Jackson
Coffee, I bequeath the elegant sword presen
ted to me by the Rifle Company of New Or
x&is, commanded by Capt. Beal, as a. me
mento of my regard, and to bring to his re
collection the gallant services of his deceased
father. Gen. John Coffa, in the late Indian
and British wars, under my command, and
his gallant conduct jn defense of rew Or-
eacs in 1614 15, with this injunction, that
he wield it in protection of the rights secured
to the American citizen under our glorious
Constitution, against all invaders, whether
foreign fees or intestine traitors."
Where again is Andrew Jackson Coffee.
and in what cause is he wielding the gift of
his benefactor : lie loo u among the trai
tors, and the sword placed in bis hands for
the "protection af the rights secured to tho
American citizen under our glorious Consti
tution," ie pointed at Lb.9 hearts of loyal men
and whetted for the destruction of that 'glo
rious Constitution that he was so solemn!;
ei'joined to defend.
Suph is thus far the melancholy history of
these three swords, each the legacy of a great
man to his kinsmen, and such the uses to
which they are applied. If facta were wan
ting to illustrate the commonplace touching
the degeneracy of the successors of great men.
how abundantly are they furnished in tho
6tury cf this will and its consequences;
Re kind to the Aged.
Age when whitening for the tomb, is an
object of sublimity The passions have ceas
ed hopes cf self have ceased. They linger
with the young, they pray for the young while
their spirits are looking beyond the grave
and oh ! Low careful should the young be to
reward the aged with their fresh warm hearts.
to diminish the chill of ebbing life. The Spar
tans looked upon a reverential respect for old
age as a beautiful trait oi character. Re kind
to those who are in the autumn cf life, for
thou knowest not what suffering they may have
endured; or how mtxb. of it may sull be their
portion Do they seem unreasonable and dis
posed to find fault or murmer ? Allow not
thine anger to kindle against them; rebuke
them not, for doubtless many have been the
crosses and trials of earlier years, and pethaps
their dispositions, while in the spring time of
life, where more flexible than thine own.
Do they require aid of thee? then render it
cheer fplly, forget pot that the time may come
when fhoa mayest desire the assistance from
others, that thou renderest unto them. Do
all that is needful for the old. and do it srilh
alacrity, and .think it is not hard if much is
required at thy hand, lest when age sets its
seal on thy brow and fills thy limbs with
trembling, others may wait unwillingly, and
feel relieved when the comn-lid has covered
thy face forever. II IF. Beecher.
Crr Cake, One cup sugar, cne cup mo
lasses, one cup butter, one cup egg, five cups
flour, one tcaspoonful saleratus, tpicc to your
taste.
Digsitt.' An ignorant man who " Ftands
upon his dignity," is like the fellow who tried
to elevate himself by etaniics upon a piece of
J brown paprr.