If
THE BLESSINGS OF GOVKBNMENT, LIKE THE DEWS OF HEATEH, SHOULD BE DISTRIBUTE) ALIKE CFOS THE HIGH
AND THE LOW, THE EICH AND THE POOS.
JEW SERIES.
EBEKSB0R6, PI. WEDA'ESDiY, JUNE 12 1861.
YOL. 8 SO. 2?.
TERMS:
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' Xj subscription wilV--be taken for a shorter
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subscribins for six months will be
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One inserVn. Two do. Three do
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THE LAW OF NEWSPAPERS.
1. Subcriders who do not give express notice
a Si? Contrary , xc mwui -
inae their subfnptlon.
. If subscribers order the discontinuance of
papers, the publisher may contiuue to send
iea until all arrearages are paid.
tv -:iiVic-r;VKr noAect or refuse to tsCko. thpir
roers from the office to which they are directed,
. f ... -11. ;i .1 i in. i
tier are tela responsii'w uum nirjr nave seuieu
thebilk and ordered them discontinued,
j if n wrihers remove to other places with-
-
-j icf 'rniing the publisher, and the newspapeis
sect to tha K-rmcr uirecuou, mey are neia
wrv r.s'.tie.
TV murk, have also repeatedly decided that a-
F-wmahter who neglects to perform his duty of
fx.nz reasonable notice as required by the regu
h!i:;jns or the Test Office Department, of the
x;Y:t of a person to take from the office news
jkiiers a-lbressed to him. renders the Postmaster
ulie to the publisher for the subscripion.
I'artiou l.rounlow'8 Daughter.
A gentleman just arrived ia thi city from
ALoxville, Tetn., brings intelligence of af-
irs in that city. He informs us that 2,500
StCi?siociats are Stationed there, for the ex-
ress purpose of overawing the Union men.
; i a part cf their business to cDgage in
barrels in saloons, and :n 6treet fights, with
k'lwho are not friendly to secession. Two
mes were thot last week for no other offence
iaa speaking words of loyalty to the Feder-
Government.
The house of the celebrated, bold hearted,
izl out ppoken Parson Brownlow, is the cq-
c-ne in Knoxviiie over which the Stars and
iriprs are floating. A few days ago two
ciLed Secessionists went, at 6 o'clock in the
waing, to haul down the Stars and Stripes.
ML's Brownbw, a brilliant young lady of
tventy-three, saw them on the piazza, and
tepped out and demanded their business
They replied" that they had coma to "take
down them d- -d Stars and Stripes." She
instantly diew-a revolver from hor side, and
prettnting it said, 4Go on ! Vm good for one
of yd, and I ihiuk for both.!'
the looks of that girl's eye, she will
shoot,' one reroaikcd. 1 tuiuH. we a ueuer
not try it; we'll go back and get more men,
aid the other.
'Go and get more meo,' soid the noble la
j, 'get more men, and come and take it
&n, if you dare !'
They returned with a company of ninety
vied men, and demanded that the flag sho'd
kbauled down. Bat on discovering that
te house was filled with gallant men, armed
to the teeth, who would rather die as dearly
u possible, than see their country's flag dis
honored, the Secessionists retired.
S'hcn our informant laft JnoxyiHei the
Stars and Stripes still floated to the breeze
ser Parson Brownlowa house. Long may
tty wave I Chicago Tribune.
pEtir Wm Civ n-rirpa Tf the di(?rosi-
to speak well of others were universally
prevalent, the world would become acompar-
Pandora -box which, when opened, fill ev-
fc7 ?oase with pam and sorrow. xiof many
smitiea &nd Koart.bnrninoB flow from this
fcvee ! How much happiness is interrupted
aestroyed lnvy, jealousy ana me ma
ant spirit of evil, when they find vent by
jfe lips, go forth on their mission, like foul
ds, to blast the reputation and peace of
stas. Every one has his imperfections;
in the conduct of the best there will be
sional faults which might seem to justify
laituad version.
It js a good rule, however, when there is
asion for fault-finding, to do it privately to
erring one- This may prove salutary.
11 J8 a proof of interest in the individual,
aich will generally be taken kindly, if the
dinner of doing it is not offensive. The
?Qmon and unchristian rule, on the contrary,
to proclaim the failings of others to all but
emselves: This is unchristian, and shows a
fc&picable heart.
m
( The man that don't advertise has got his
''Ore Luncr nil nrnnn.l tmUh atiintrlpfl And riieCCS
Wei heads, inscribed in lamp-black with.
Wsh Pertatrn Knm AfPl Flower."
j J ' vwf
All Kinds of kountry prodooae," "Kaliker.
Kandles, For Sad hear." He says, "Thar
4111 1 no sense in uoospaper advertising, so long
M 1 taan is smart enuff to tend to bis own bus
8. and kin stand attb.6 door snd holler the
itUtl f5aefrt.
WAITIXC FOR HER 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 womaD
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 111 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 maiden 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 Lopes above.
She through all these fifty winter
Hath believed herself again
Loving and loving as of old tima,
When they parted In the lane.
Every day to her is Sunday,
And, behind the window pane.
Every eve she sits and watches
. For htr lover, down the lane.
31 Y MATRDIOMAL DRE.tM.
Quiet and lonely as the oil statue that
stands and looks at the dark oaken 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 goce to tbo tLca- ;
tre. I have rumaged out some letters, sai
and bitter remembrances, and read th-'-m ;
through and through, and it strikes me j
thattlie world should and ought to know some ;
of my misfortunes. So it shall ; and may it
profit by the lesson. J
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 bal 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 bachelor 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
wifa for me. We tired of this, however, and
sat spoiling our teeth in eilenoe 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 quo
ted from it) 'Alice B , twenty, fcir. pith
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 s made. Think of 600 a year,
all safe, safe as a bank if you try. Come,
consider your whjskera.''
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 hia 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 say, with such a s eet
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-
i nal, just in Xun." and sought for a meeting
with this Alice. For a week I waited; but
there was no notice. A fortnight, Btill nono.
At length, there was a request 'that Leonard
, 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 langhed 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 sang to me, and said bow soon I ehould
forget her, and then she laughed 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 kissed her as I said good bye. It was
the last, last time.
Three days after a letter came from Alice,
full of romantio 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
brttcm of nigh ttreet, where shs would walk
with a sprig of myrtle in her hand, and she
boped I would carry a thin stick.
I do not know what evil spirit tempted me
but I went to Rugby. Just for the fun of
the thing," and I walked up and down High
street expecting her for upwards of an hour.
At length, I saw a thin, fair, grey-eyed girl
coming around the corner, with a sprig of
myrtle. I was very nigh running away ; but
I didn't. We nearcd each other, she spoke,
aod called me Leonard. I
" Miss Alice," I exclaimed.
i The same, dear Leonard ; how late you
aro Here's my sister coming." And she
introduced me and continued, - I am so fond
of you alridy ; are you not Emily 5"
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 bavo
ohanged their envelope? in the act of coming
down.
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 revcrio ab,out
Rome and Emily and Curtius and myself, by
Alice's teasing me, and saying J did not look
much like a lover.
If she had said that J did not feel like one
she 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.
Who eyer PPt Qakes with a B ? Hoax !
enough I thought.
Won't you walk in, sir I' said 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 preserve ft from
spot and flemish,
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.
Theao thiDgi I noticed while Alice took
her bonnet ,off. When she came she thanked
ma for the many letters I scn.1 her. Ma
ny letters! I had only written one. Bnl
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 6nd 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 1 6lept
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 sa:d, I need not tell you. I got
into a passion", so did he. At last he threat
ened to expose me aod 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
hour we left the room together ; and I have
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 tbey did as soon as the babbling tongue
of scandal got in full play, left mo. My bus
iness declined rapidly. My wife, whose 600
a year proved to be a capital of 1 Cs. 4d., !
rates me and taunts me, and cries, and goes
into hysterics, and gets money out of me for
some poor deserving relative of hers who
would do anything for me I suppose, in the
way of eating and drinking and spending my
money-: out each long' day; and I have no
quiet moment except when I am asleep in
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 po hope, po one
to pity me.
As I said before, my wife h at the theater. ;
Hark ! there she is at the door. She must
not see this. I sit and pretend to be asleep.
She cntoxs 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 at the hotel in Covent Gar
den, where we spent our weddiag night We
had just arrived ; and whilst she wag up
stairs, I bad 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 love paragraph in my meiuory.
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 such a laughing way, if I am think
ing of Alice B.
A BsAUTirciiTuouGiiT. Life is beautiful
ly compared to a fountain fed by a thousand
streams, that perishes if ones 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
innunmerable dangers, which make it much
more strange they escape ?o 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 jt by a vivifying fire, tends' to wear
it out by its oyn action ; death lurks in am
bush along our paths. Notwithstanding 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 cs, but how seldom does
it occur to our thoughts, that our knell shall,
perhaps give the next fruitless warning to the
world 1
jE2T"My motto through life," says 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 just the dif
ference between a man and a jackass, JLc jack
ass can't change his mind, and a roan can, it's
a human pmtlegd" .. , .
TTonderfuI "Log Rolling: out IT est.
An Englishman who was lately travelling
on the Mississippi River told some tough sto
ries about the London thievts. A Cincinna
ti chip, named Case, heard these narratives
with a silent but expressive 'humph, and
then remarked that he thought the western
th ieyes beat the London operators all hollow.
How so V inquired the Englishman, with
surprise. 'Pray, sir, have you lived much
in the West Y
Not a great deal. I undertook to set op
a busiues at the Des Moines Rapids a while
ago, but the rascally people stole everything
I had, and finally a Welsh mine ran off with
my wife.'
'Good Gracious ! said the Englishman,
and you never found her ?
Never to thia day. But that was not the
worst of it.'
Worst ! Why, what could be worse than
stealing a man's wife 7
'Stealing his children, I should say, said
the implacable Case.
'Children V
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?'
See her ? Yes, and she had'nt ten rods
the start of me ; but she plunges into the
lake and swam liko a duck, and there warn't
a canoe to follow her with.'
The Englishman laid back in his chair and
called for another mug of aff-an-aff, while
Case smoked bis cigar and credulous friend
at the same time, most remorselessly.
'I I sha'nt go any farther West I do
think,' it length observed the excited John
Bull.
I fhoulJ not advise any one to go,' said
Case quietly. 'My brother once lived there,
but he bad to leave, although his business
was the best in the country.'
'What business was he in, pray?'
'Lumbering and a saw-mill.'
'And tbey stole his lumber V
'Yea, and his saw-logs too '
Saw logs!'
'Yes. Whole dozens of fine black walnut
logs were canied off in a sitgle night true,
upon my honor, sir. He tried every way to
prevent it ; had men hired to watch bis logs,
but it was all of no usa. They would whip
'em away as easily as if there had been no
body there. They would steal them out of
the river, out of the cove, and even out of
the mill ways.'
'Good Gracious I'
Just to give you a idea how they can
steal out here,' continued Case, sending a sly
wink at the listening company, 'just to give
you an idea did you ever"wa&k 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 ij. He was de
termined to keep tJiat 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
down on tho log to play keerds, just to keep
awake you see. 'Twaa 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 V
And they sitting on it Y
'Sittipg tlie lark The thieves had
drove an iron wedge into the but end, whioh
pinted down hill, and hitched a yoke of oxen
on, and pulled it right out, leaving tho bark
and the Scotchers setting a straddle of it,
fast asleep.'
The Englishman here rose, dropped his 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 Bkidz. I know of co sight more touch
ing and charming than that of a young acd
timid bride, in her robes cf virgin white, led
up bemblipg 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
n? with tho implicit confidence and the
sweet self-abandonment wh"eh 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 lor
poorer, in rickness and in health, to lpve,
honor and obey, till death do us part," It
brings to mind the beautiful and affecting de
votion of Ruth " Whiter thou goest I will
go," and where thou lodges, I will lodge; thy
people shall be my people, and tby God my
God." Irvin 7.
Andrew Jackson' Three Svords.
Jackson's life, says the New York Timet.
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 decree, an ob
ject of popular idolatry. Tennessee presen-
uim uu a ewora; me citizens 01 jrniia
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 they
have a history connected with the present aa
well as the past a history wbiih. were the
dead permitted to speak, would evoke voieo
of indignaat denunciation from the old hero's
grave.
"By his will. Gen. Jackson bequeathed the .
first of the three swords to his nephew and
adopted son, Andrew Jackson Donelson;
the second to his 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
DoLe!son, 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 the
constitutional rights of our beloved country,
should they be assailed by foreign enemies oj
domestic traitors."
Where is Andrew J. Pooelspn now, and to
what use is he applying this legacy of his
great kinsman, consumed to bis presum
ed patriotism, accompanied with so solemn
an injunction ? In the ranks of rebellion,
figting against "Our glprioua Union I" 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 belo7ed grandson, An
drew Jackson, son of Androw Jackson, Jr.,
and Sarah, his wife, the sword presented tq
me by the citizens of Philadelphia, with this
injunction, that he will always ute 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 hia patriotic grandfather, and where
is the sword intrusted to his keeping ? It is
rusting in its scabbard at home, while trea
son is hewing at the Constitution, and the
eannon of rebellion thundering against the
Union. The degenerate grandson is himself
on the side of the traitors, aiding by his in
fluence and his money the conspirators who
are thus in arms against both, and who are
battling for the oyerthrow cf our .'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
!&is, commanded by Capt. Deal, as a. me
mento of my regard, and to bring to his re
collection the gallant services of his deceased
father. Gen. John CoSe, in the Lite Indian
and British wars, under my command, and
his gallant condurt ju defense of New Or
leans in 1814 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 ? He loo is avuong the trai
tors, and the sword placed in his hands for
the "protection af the rights secured to the
American citizen under our glorious Consti
tution," is pointed at the hearts of lcyal men
and whetted for the destruction of that 'glo
rious Constitution'-' that be was so solemnly
et-joined to defend.
Such 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 facts were wan
ting to illustrate the commonplace touching
the degeneracy of the successors of great men.
how abundantly are they furnished In tho
stury cf this will and its consequences ;
Re kind to the A fired.
Age when whitening for the tomb, is an
object of sublimity The passions have ceas
ed hopes of self have ceased. They linger
with the young, they pray for the young while
their spirits are looking beyond the grave -and
oh ! bow" careful should the young be tg
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 be autiful trait oi character. Be kind
to those who are in the autumn cf life, for
thou knowest not what suffering they may have
endured; or how mncb of it may still be their
portion Do tbey seem unreasonable and dis
posed to find fault or murmer ? Aliov not
thine anger to kindle against them; rebuke
them not, for doubtless many have been the
crosses and trials of earlier years, and peihaps
their dispositions, while in the spring time of
life, where more flexible than thine own.
Do they require aid of theef then render it
chcerfpl'y forget pot that the fine may come
when ioa mayest desire the assistance from
others, that thou renderest unto tiiezn. Do
all that is needful for the old. and do it with
alacrity, and .tiiok it is not hard if much is
required at thy bia2. lest when a?e sets its
seal on thy brow and fills thy limbs with
trembling, others may wait un willingly, and
feel relieved when the coffin-lid has covered
tby face forever. ff IF. J3eeeher.
Crr Cake. One cup sugar, one cup rcp
Ias8e6, one cup butter, one cup egg, five cups
flour, one tcafpoonful saleratus, fpice to jour
taste.
Digs itt. An ignorant man who " stands
upon his dignity," is like the fellow who trid
to elevate himeelf by elan Jicj upon a piece of
jrrown papr.