u
m
IK
41
Uf 111
THE BLESSINGS OF GOVEBSMEXT, LIKE THE DET8 OP HEAVEN, SHOULD BE DISTRIBUTED ALIKE UPON THE HIGH AKD THE LOW, THE BICH ANI THE POOR.
JE1T SERIES.
EBEKSBliRG. PI. WEDNESDAY, JULY 31 1861.
VOL. 8 AO. 34
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From the Home Journal.
A FAXCiri'L 31QRCE.tr.
TY F.LEAN B C. DOXXFXLY.
; "s fin! Kind fates, I thank ye much
r r giiMing me to where this roiie lay,
h :"'"m the contact of her rosy touch,
h?r lit s' pure impress and her breath's warm
j'lay.
rtapr finders trifled with these plumes,
Her dark, shy lashes drooped behind this
screen,
i f!fi'js blushed these painted Eastern
i'"0:ns,
"';.eje"er she blushed, like evening's sky
serene ;
;::-r. sw;t fan, grow sentient, breathe and
tren;ble.
t:..--e a voice which s-lutli mv love's resemble.
.t'" a;i airy '.vi.isjn-r. and unfild
w.it, light iiothit g which her lips have
,;:!.
.. siuikiug o'er her brow her veil of gold,)
thy plume she bent l.er graceful head ;
-l v. cie.tr laugh which left her mouth
e in it.- rosy quietude.
i:.k her breath, as fragrant as the south,
n j-iigrim winds among its bowers intrude
rr. sweet fin, and, in return, receive thee'
?:itie meysnfe whic-h my lips may give
tl.ee.
. tk .u mirror, limpid, pure, pf Kit,
-t. like a dew-drop, in this rose-bud frame;
' ti.y surface, in a transport sweet,
nre, blight face which last across thee
c irr.e :
- 1 tli? wor.drous eyes, the brow Sapphic,
f r which banded tresses Mowed away,)
'i -tp'iug mouth, the bloom-enamored cheek,
se f rni as fragile as a summer fay.
p:k, mute glas, yet misty with her breath-
"T-.,e dear sake this tender rhyme is wreath-
- i '. rtis her step advancing lo ! she comes
ir -n out the glamour of the twilight bowers,
- ever.ip.jr wind her loosened tresses combs,
lads them with the fragrance of the
flowers ;
rn this velvet cushion, where it fell,
Tiy brilliant fan, sweet lady, I restore.
' f-ngs. Ah ! fate it is a golden bell
VLkh chimes my curfew through the open
ioocr.
T" r, ilear fan, lie lightly on ber bodice,
' breathe mv messaee to the smiling goddess.
THE BLIND MAN'S WREATH.
A ET0B.Y OF DOMESTIC LIFE.
""My boy, my poor blind -y !"
Hiis sorrowful exclamatio- broke from the IipS
ilre. Owen, as she lay upon the couch to
ich a long and wasting illnes3 bad confined
., and whence she well knew she was never
re to rise. .
Her son, the only child of her widowed heart,
sole object of her cares and affections, knelt
de her, his face bowed upon ber pillow for
only, in a moment of solemn communion
:'h his mother, had she revealed the fatal
'K and told him she must die. He had
:hed, and hoped, and trembled for many
w,7 months, but never yet had he admitted to
lf the rossibility of losing her. Her fading
-ek and sunken eve could not reveal to him
' progress of decay, and so long as the loved
J' maintained Its music to his ear and cheered
with promise of improvement, so long as
Ttaml still clasped his, h had hoped she would
"v.-r.
He .had been blind since he was three years
old ; stricken by lightning, he had totally lost
his sight. A dim remembrance of his widowed
mother's face, her smoothly braided hair and
and flowing white dress, was one of the few re
collections entwined with the period before al!
became dark to him.
The boy grew up, tall, slender, delicate, with,
dark, pensive eyes, which bore no trace of the
calamity that had destroyed their powers of vi
sion ; grave, though not sad ; dreamy, enthusi
astic, aud requiting his mother's care with the
deepest veneration and tenderness. In the first
years of his chijdhood, and also wherever his
education did not take them to Loudon and else
where, they had resided near a town on the
sea-coast, iu one cf the prettiest parts of Eng
land. Independently of the natural kindness which
very rarely fails to be shown towards any person
who is blind, there was that about both the wid
ow and her son which invariably rendered them
acceptable guests ; for their intellectual resources
and powers of conversation were equally diversi
fied and uncommon. Mrs. Oowen had studied
much in order to teach her son, and thus, by im
proving her natural abilities, had become a per-t-on
of no common sttmp her intellectuality,
however, being always subservient to, and fitly
shadowed by, the superior feminine attributes of
love, gentleness and sympathy ; for heaven help
the woman in whom these gifts are not pre
dominant over any mental endowments whatso
ever
When they walked out together, his mother
took his arm. He was proud of that, fur he liked
to fancy lie was some support to her ; aud many
pitying eyes u.-ed latterly to follow the figure of
the widow in the black elress she constantly wore,
and the tall, pale son on whom tbe leaned confi
dingly as if striving with a sweet deception to
convince him that he was indeed the staff of her
declining strength. But gradually the mother's
form grew bent, her steps dragged wearily along,
aud the ex pres.-ion of her face indicated increas
ing weakness. The walks were at an end ; and
before long t-he was too feeble to leave her bed,
except to be carried to a summer parlor, where
she lay upon a sofa beside an open window, with
flowers twining round the casement, and the
warm sunshine filling all things with joy, save
her fore-boding heart and the anxious son who
incessantly hovered over ber. Friends often came
to visit them, and turned away with a deep sad
ness as they noted the progress of her malady,
and heard the blind man ask each time whether
they did not think her better oh surely a little
tetfer than when they had last beheld her.
Amcng all these, no friend was so welcome cr '
brought such solace to the sick room as Mary
Parker, a j yous girl of nineteen, one of the beau- I
ties c-f the county, and the admiration and de
light of all who kuew her. Mr. Owen had danced
Mary upon her knee, and Edward used to weave j
baske ts and make garlands for her, when be was !
a l-oy of twelve, arid she a little fairy of six
years old or thercalxmts, stood beside him, pra is- j
ing his skil'j and wondering how he could man- j
age so cleverly, though blind. None of his
childish companions ever led him so carefully as
Mar-, or seemed so much impressed with his
mental superiority. She would leave those games
of her playmates in w hich his blindness prevent
ed him from joining, and would listen for bours
to the stories with which his memory was well
store 1, or which his own imagination enabled
him to invent.
As she grew up, there was no change in the
frank and confiding nature of their intercourse.
Mary still made him the recipient ot her girlish
secrets, and plans, aixl dreams, just as she had
done of her little griefs and joys in childhood ;
asked him to quote his favorite passages of poe
try, or stationed herself near him at the piano,
suggesting subjects for him to play, which he
extemporised at her bidding. Bright and bloom
ing as Mary was, the life of every party, beam
ing with animation ind enjoyment, no attention
was capable of rendering her unmindful of him ;
and she was often known to sit out several
danees in an evening, to talk to dear Kdward
Owen, who would be sad if he thought himself
neglected.
And now she daily visited the invalid her
buoyant spirits tempered by sympathy for her
increasing sufferings, but still diffusing such an
atmosphere of sunshine and hope around her,
that gloom and despondency seemed to vanish at
her presence. Edward's sightless eyes were al
ways raised to her bright face, as if he felt the
magic influence it imparted.
His mother had noticed all this with a mother's
watchfulness; and, on that day, when, strong in
her love, she bad undertaken to break to him the
fact which all others shrank from communicat
ing, she spoke likewise of Mary, and of the vague
wild hope she had always cherished of one day
seeing her his wife.
"No, mother, no !" exclaimed the blind man
'Dearest mother, in' this you are not true to
yourself! What! Would you wish to see her
in her spring-time of youth and beauty sacrificed
to such a one as I ? to see Mary, as you have
described her to me, as my soul tells me she is,
tied down to be-the guide, and leader, and sup
port of one who could not make one step in her
defence ; whose helplessness alone, would be his
means of sheltering and protecting her! Would
you hear her pitied our bright Mary pitied
as a blind man's wife, mother?"
"But Edward if she loves you, as I am sure
she does "
"Love me, mother ! Yes, as angels love mor
tals, as a sister loves a brother, as you'love me !
And for this benignant love, this tender sympa
thy, I could kneel and kiss the ground she treads
uHn ; but beyond this were you to eutreat her
to marry your blind and politary s n. and she in
pity answered 'Yes' would I accept her on such
terms, and rivet the chains she had consented to
assume 1 Oh, mother, mother, I have not studied
yeu in vain your life has been one long se'f
sacrifice to me ; its silent teaching shall bear
fruit. Do not grieve sC bitterly for me. Gotl
was very merciful to me in giving me such a
mother ; let lis trust Him for the future."
Ah, poor tortured heart, : peaking so bravely
forth, striving to cheer the mother's failing spirit,
when all to him was dark, dark, dark!
She raised herself upon her pillow and wound
her weak arms around his neck, and listened to
the expressions of Ineffable love, and faith, and
consolation, which her son found strength to
utter, to sustain her soul. Yea, in that hour her
recompense had begun. In loneliness, in secret
tears, with Christian patience and endeavor, with
an exalted and faithful spirit, had she sown ; and
in death she reaped her high reward.
They had been silent for some minutes, and
she lay back exhausted, but composed, while he
sat beside her, holding her hand in his, fancying
she slept, and anxiously listened to her breath
ing, which seemeel more than usually oppressed.
A rustling was heard amid he flowers at the
window, and a bright young face looked in.
t-llush!" said Eel ward, recognizing the step
"Hush, Mary, she is asleep !"
The color ami the fmiles alike passed from
Mary's face when she glided into the room.
"Oh ! Edward, Edward, she is not asleep she
is verj-, very ill !"
"Mary, darling Mary !" said the dying lady,
without difficulty arousing herself ; "I have had
such a pleasant dream ; but I have slept too long.
It is night. Let them bring candles. Edward,
I cannot see you now."
Night, and the sun so brightly shining! The
shadows of the grave were stealing fast upon
her.
Other steps now sounded in the room, and
many faces gathered lound the couch ; but the
blind man heard nothing was conscious of no
thing save the painful labored respiration, the
tremulous hand that fluttered in his own, the
broken sentences.
"Edward, my clearest, take comfort. I have
hope. Gotl is indeed merciful."
"Oh, Ed ward, do not grieve so sadly. It breaks
my heart to see you cry. For 7er sake be calm
for my sake, too!" Mary knelt dewn beside
him. and endeavored to soothe the voiceless an
guish which it terriSed her to witness.
Another interval, when no sound broke the
stillne-s that prevailed ; and again Mrs. Owen
opened ber eyes, and saw Mary kneeling by Ed
ward's side. They were associated with the pre
vious current of her thoughts, and a smile lighted
up her fjce.
"As I wished, as I prayed, to diel My chil
dren both. Kiss me. Mar', my l-les-sing, my
consoler! E lward, nearer, nearer ! Child of so
many hopes aud prayers all answered now!" j
And with her bri- ht vision unalloyed, her re
joicing soul took v;ing, and knew sorrow nnd
teats no more.
o o o o o o
Four months had passed since Mrs. Owen's
death, ami her son was still ? a) irg at Wocd
lands, the residence of Mark's lather. Colonel
Parker, at about two miles distance from Ed
ward Owen's solitary home. Hither had he been
prevailed upon to remove, after t lie first Bhock
of his grief had subsided.
Col. and Mrs. Parker were kind hearted peo
ple, and the peeul iar situation of Edward Owen
appealed to their best feelings so they made no
opposition to their children devoting themselves
unceasingly to him, and striving by every inno
cent device to render his afHiction less poignant
ani oppressive. But kind as all the family were,
still all the family were as nothing compared to j
Mary, who was always anxious to accompany !
him in his walks, seemed jealous of her privilege J
as his favorite reader, and claimetl to be his silent
watchful companion, when, too sad even to take
an interest in what she read, he leaned back
wearily in his chair, and felt the soothing influ
ence of her presence. As time wore on, and some
of his old pursuits resumed their attractions for
him, she used to listen for hours as he played
upon the piano. She would sit near him with
her work, proposing subjects for bis skill, as her
old custom had been; cr she would beg of him
to give her a lesson in executing a difficult pas
sage, and rendering it with due feeling and ex
pression. In the same way, in their readings,
which gradually were carried on with more re
gularity and interest, she appeared to look upon
herself as being the person obliged, appealed to
bis judgment, and deferred to his opinion, with
out any consciousness of fatigue she underwent,
or the service she was rendering.
One day, as they were sitting in the library,
after she had been for some time pursuing her
self Li) posed task, and Edward, fearing she would
be tired, repeatedly entreated her to desist, she
answered gaily :
"Let me alone, Edward. It is so pleasant to
go through a book with you. You make such
reflections, and point out the finest passages,
and explain the difficult parts so clearly, that it
does me more good than a dozen readings by
myself. I shall grow quite clever now we have
began our literary studies."
"Dear Mary, say rather ended ; for yon know
this cannot always go on so. I must return to
my own house next week, I have trespassed on
your father's hospitality, indulgence and forbear
ance too long."
"Leave us, Edward!" and the color tleepened
in her cheeks and tears stood in her bright eyes.
"Not yet."
concluded next week
To rob a man of Lis money is to wound
him in the chest
WAR FEVER IN BALDINSVILLE.
BY ARTE MLS WARD.
As soon as I'd recooperated my physikill sys
tem, I went over to the tillage. The peasantry
was glad to see me. The schoolmaster sed it was
cheeiin to see that gigantic intelleck among 'em
onct mere. That's what he called me. I like
the schoolmaster, and altars send him tobaccer
when I'm ofEon a travelin campane. Such men
must be encouraged.
They don't git news very fast in BuldinsvilJe,
as ncthin I.t a plank road runs in there twice a
week, and that's very much out of repair. So
my nabors wasn't much posted up in regard to
the wars. Squire Baxter sed he'd voted the
dimicratic ticket for goin on forty years, and the
war was a dam black republican lie. Jo Stack
pole, who kills hogs for the 'Squire, and has got
a powerful muscle into his arms, sed hel bet $5
he could lick the Crisis in a fair stand up fight
if he wouldn't draw a knife on him. So it went
sum was for war and sum was for peace. The
schoolmaster, however, sed that the Slave Oligar-
ky must cower at the feet of the North ere a year i
had passed by, or pass over his dead corpse.
" Esta perpetua ! " be added, and "sine qua
non also" sed I, sternly, wishing to make a im
pression onto the villagers. " Ilequiescat in
pace!" sed the schoolmaster. "Too troo, too
troo," I ansered, "it's a scanderius fact !"
The newspapers got along at last, chuck full
of Baldinsville. 'Squire Baxter sed he didn't be
lieve in coercion, not one of 'cm, and could prove
by a file of Kngles of Liberty in his garrit, that
it was all a Whig lie, got up to raise the price of
whisky and destroy our other liberties, but the
old 'Squire got 'putty riley when he heerd how
the rebels was cuttin up, and he sed he reckoned
he should skour up his old musket and do a little
square fitin for the Old Flag, which nad allers
bin on the ticket he'd voted, and he was too old
to bolt now. The 'Squire is all right at heart,
but it takes longer for hirn to fill his venerable
biler with steam than it used to when he was
young and frisky. As I prevUIy informed you, I
am Captin of Ihe Baldinsville Company. I riz
gradooally but majesticly from drummer's secre
tary to my present position. But I found the
ranks wasn't full by no means, and commenced
for to recroot. Ilavin not is t a general desire on
the part of youog mcu who are into the Crisis to
wear eppylits, I iletarmined to have my compa
ny comjiosed tscloosively of offissers, everybody
to rank as Brigadeer-Ginral. The follerin was
among the varis questions which I put to re-'
croots :
Do you know a masked battery f'ora a hunk
of gingerbread ?
Do you know a eppylit from a piece of chalk ?
It I trust j-ou with a real gun, how many men
of vour own company do you speck you can man-
age to kill curing the war t '
Ilav you ever heard of Ginral Price of Mis
souri, and can j'ou avoid similar accidents in case
of a battle 1
Ilav you ever had the measles, and if so, how
many 1
How are you now ?
Show ms your tongu, tS'c., &c. Some of the
questions were sarcusstical.
The company filled up, rapid, and last Sunday
we went to the meetin house iu full uniform. I
had a scris time gettin into my military harness,
as it was bilt foi me many years ago; but I fi
nally got inside of it, though it fitted me putty
clost. Howsoever, onct into it I lookt fine in
fact, aw-inspirin. " Do you know me, Mrs.
Ward V sed I, walkiu into the kitchin.
" Know you, you old fool. Of course I do."
I taw at once that she did.
I started for the meetin house, and I'm afraid
I tried to walk too strate, for I cum verj near
faliin over backards ; and in attemptin to recover
myself, my sword got mixed up with mv legs,
and I fell in among a choice collection of young
ladies, who was standin near the church tloor, a
seein the soger bnj-s come up. My ockt hat fell
off, and somehow my coat-tales got tw isted round
my neck. The young ladies put their handker
chiefs to their mouths aud remarked : Te be."
while my ancient female single friend, Sary Peal
sey, bust out into a loud larf. She exercised her
mouth so violently that her new false teeth fill
out onto the ground.
" Miss Pealsey," sed I, gittin up and dustin
myself, " you must be more careful with them
store teeth o your'n, or you'll have to gum it
agin !''
Methinks I had her.
I'd bin to work hard all the week, and I
felt rather snoozy. I'm afraid I did get half
asleep, for on hearing the minister ask, ' why
was a man made to mourn ?" I sed, " I give it
up," havin a vague idee that it was a conundrum.
It was a unfortuuit remark, for the whole meetin
house lookt at me with mingled surprise aud iu
dignation. I was about risin to a piut of order,
.when it suddenly occurred to me whare I was,
and I kept my seat, blushing like the red red
rose k to s peak.
The next morning I rose with the lark.
(N. B. I don't sleep with the laik, though. A
goak.)
My little dawter was execootin ballids, accom
panying herself with the hand orgin, and she
wisht me to linger and hear her sing : " Hark,
I hear a angel sin gin, a angel now is onto the
wing."
Let him fly, my child!" sed I a bucklin on
my armcr, " I must forth to my Biz."
We are progressin pretty well with our drill.
As all are commaadin offissers, there ain't no jel
usy ; and as we are all exceediu smart, it ain't
worth while to try to outstrip each other. The
idee of a company com posed excloosively of Gjm-mandcrs-in-Cliiefs
orriggernated, spose I scurcely
need say, in these branes. Considered as a idee.
I flatter myself it is patty hefty. We've got all
the tackticks at our tong's ends, but what we
particly excel in is restin muskiis. We can rest
nmskits with anybody.
Our corpse will do its dooty. We go to the
aid of Oolumby we fight for the stars !
We'll bo chopt into sassige meat before we'll
exhibit our coat-tales to the foe.
We'll fight till there's nothmz left f ns but
our little toes, and even they shall defiantly wig.
"Ever of thee,"
-ft.. Ward.
From the Home Jocrnal.J
MATRIMONIAL INFELICITIES.
BT AX IKRITABLfe JlAX.
Early in Oie Morning.
" There must be uiCerent regulations in this
house, my dear," I said, re-arranging my pillow, J
after a vain attempt to ga:n a short nap, " fur I j
won't endure anj- longer having the children wake j
me so early in the morning. If they will get up
before daylight, they must remain in the nursery,
and not come into our room with their laughter
and shouts of ' good morning.' The fact is, if j
there be one thing I dislike more than another.it J
is to be aroused from my slumbers with cries of !
good morning for it is anything but good to be
thus disturbed."
" But you must allow, my dear," rejoined my
wife, " that it is very pretty in the children to do
this. Then that little three year e-ld one, who
always aids to her goo J morning a ' wish you
merry Christmas' cr n anything be more child
like and beautiful ?"
" Oh. it's all well enough," I said ; " but I
elon't see the use of it so early in the mornin:
If she would say It at night, when the goes to
bed, I could better appreciate it. It has always
been a matter of wonderment to me why children
will wake with the birds."
" The reason is very -imple," my wife answer
ed, 4 ' it is because they go to bed with them. No
sooner do you come home in the afternoon, than
you begin to tell the children it is time for them
to prepare for bed ; and. even when you are in
the best of humor, you don't r-eem contented un
til they are safely ensconced in their cribs. Now
if you were to go to bed at six or seven o'clock,
as they do, I think you would also wake up as
early in the morning."
" Perhaps so." I replied ; ' but what would
be the object for me to go to bed so early ?"
" Why, as you tell the children," my wife said,
maliciously, " to make you grow."
Now, I am rather short ; but I think my age
warrants me in presuming I shall never be an-
taller, so that when my wife answered as she did.
it provoked me. Although naturally an irritable
man, I have the faculty of controlling my temper
when I think it is desirable to do so, and, on the
present occasion, I contented myself with silently
wishing my amiable spouse in Jericho. Seeing
I made no answer, my wife continued :
" If it weie not that the children woke you,
you wouldn't get up till ten o'clock. Notwith
standing they wake you thus early, you don't rise
until the Lcll is rung for breakfast, and then I
have to call you, over and over again, until my
breath is almost gone, and I haven't strength left
to serve the cofll-e."
" I should not think it required a greit Jeal of
strength to ojen the faucet of the coffee-urn . cs-
Iecial'y as I have heard you complain that it
often .elrops of its own accord, and allows the
coffee to run at will."
" Oh, well, make as much sport of me as you
like; but don't complain if, when you go to
breakfast this morning, everything on the table,
including the coffee, 1? cold ; for. positively, I will
not call you. If you won't get up when the bell
rings, why you cai lie a!-d and eat a cold break
fast after the others have finished."
" Veiy well, my elear," I said. " have it your
own wr.y, though if I caa't have in this bouse
my breakfast, and a hot one at that, any hour I
may wish it, why, I can get it at Delia onico's
when I g down town. On the whole, I think 1
should prefer, for a change, to do so. I should
not have to wait on the children, carving tough
steaks, nor will you have to tu rn out coffee for
me."
" Well, d you know" said my wife, "I really
believe you would like t do that. I think yeu
would actually enjoy taking your meals away
from your family. You wouldn't mind anything
about the expense of iuch proceedings, so long as
it was f.r your own gratification; but if I sho'd
do so, you would declare it the height of f oolish
ness. Why, if I stop at Mendes' and get a cup
of chocolate Force day when I am wearied cut,
with shopping for you and the chil iren, you
think it extravagant, and I never, indeed, hear
the last of it."
" Well, but chocolate is such abominable stuff,"
I si id, "it slicks up one's mustache so. I cannot
imagine bow any one can like it."
" Fortunately," my wife raid. ' I have no
mustache to be soiled with it, and, besides, I like
chocolate."
" Very well, if you 'ike it," I said, " I am sure
I have no ebjections to your drinking it; but
don't, for gracious' sake, be recommending it to
me, for if there be one thing I dislike more than
another, it is chocolate."
" But I have not recommended it," my wife
replied, " though I think it would be belter for
you than the strong coffee you now use. Coffee
makes jou nervous and irritable."
" I am net irritable," I said, " and I doubt if
a more even-tempered and amiable man decs, cr
ever did, or ever will exist, than I am."
" My father," Wgau my wife : but I interrup
ted her with deel iring that I didn't wisdi to hear
a word about her father, or his amiability. My
wife put l.er handkerchief to her eyes.
No!" she exclaimed, " you never will permit
me to say a v ord about my dear father. If he
had known, when he resigned me to you, that you
would have treated harsh manner in
which you do, he never would have given his
consent for you to marry me."
"Then ours would have been a runaway match
my dear, that is certain ; for you were so deeply
in love with me that all the fathers in Christen-
dom couldn't bare kept you away from mo."
" Oh, yes, you may say that." my wife said,
smiling in spite of he-self; "but if you think
such light talk is going to make me forget your
unkind expressions in regard to my father, yea
are much mistaken. I only wish I had known
as much when I married you as I do now."
" I really wish you hid," I replied, " for then
I should not experience the annoyances which
your lack of bouse keeping knowledge has brought
upon me. If, wheu we were first married, you
bad known a much of cooking as you cow Co,
Lev.- n'nch better I might have lived. What
delicate light biscuits I should have eaten, in
stead of the heavy ones I have been obliged to
devour ! What j'j'cj meat I might Lave carved
in place of the overdone joints I have had to
dissect! What"
" Never mind' interrupted my wifo, ' go:n
any f.trthcr into the subject, for the knowledge I
regret not to have possessed, has no reference to
any housekeeping accomplishments. I refer to
your irritable disposition, which, if I had. been
aware yoa possessed, would have deterred me
from ever marrying jou'
" Good gracious! my dear," exclaimed, "yon
don't say so ! How glad I am that you didn't
find it out. "Just to think that if you had known
as much about me nine years ago as you do now,
we would not have been married ! What a nar
row escape I bad cf bein a bachelor!"
" There it is again ; make as much fun about
what I say as you like," said my wife ; i sneer
at me as much as you please ; but I guess that
one of these days you'll find I am iu earnest."
' Well, my dear, all I can say is that I should
be very sorry to believe it. If I am irritable, as
you declare I am, perhaps there are some acts of
yours which serve to make me so: at all events
yon must endeavor to bear with my humors, and
I will endure yours. But don't'ynu thick we
had both better get up, for it must be nearly
t ight o'clock, and at this season of the year I don't
care to lie abed any later."
And, rising, I left my amiable spouse to Ler re
flections.
TliC I'ovrer or Music.
One stormy night a few weeks since, (says tha
Albany Knickerbocker.) we were wending our
way homeward near midnight. The stcrm raged
violently, and the streets were almost deserted
Occupied with cur thoughts, we plodded on, when
the sound of music from a brilliantly illuminated
mansion for a moment arrestwi our fxtsteps. A
voice of surpassing swet tness and brilliancy com
menced a well-known air. We listened to a feW
strains, and were turning away, when a roughly
dressed, miserable lookDg man brushed rudely
past us. But as the music reached bis ears, he
stopped and listened intently, as if drinking in
the melody, and as the last sound died away,
burst into tears.
We inquired the cause of bis grief.
For a moment emotion forbade utterance, when
he said :
" Thirty years ago, my mother sang me to
sleep with that song she has long been dead
and I, once innocent and happy, am an out
cast a drunkaril " "
" I know it is unmanly be continued, after
a pause, in which be endeavored to wipe away
with his sleeve the fastly gathering tears, I
know it is unmanly thus to give way, but that
sweet tune brought back vividly the thought of
childhood. Her form seemed once more lfore.
I I I can't fctand it I "
And bef re we could stop him, be rushed on,
and entered a tavern ne-ar by to drown remem
brance in the intoxicating bowl.
While filled with sorrow for the unfortunate
man, we could not help reflecting upon the won
elerful power ol music. That simple strain, com
ing perchance from some gay and thoughtless
girl, and sung to others equally as thoughtless,
still had its gentle mission, for it stirred deep
feelings in an outcast's heart, bringing back
happy hours !or.g gone by.
A Beautifh. riCTur.E. The man who stands
njou his own soil, who feels that by the land in
which he lives, by the laws of civilized nations,
he is the l ightfid and exclusive owner of the land
he till, is by the constitution of cur nature tin
der a wbolsomc influence not easily imbibed from
any other source. He feels other things being
equal mors strongly than any other, the char
acter of a maa as the lord of an inanimate
world. Of this great and wondeiful sphere which
fashioned by the hand t'f Ged, and upheld by
his iower, is rolling through the world, a part
is bis bis from the centre to the sky. It is the
space on which the generations before moved in
its round of duties, and be feels himsel connected
by a link with those who follow, and to whom
he i s to t ransmit a home. Perhaps his farm has
ceme down to him from his father.
They have gone to their last home; but he can
trace their footsteps over the scenes of his daily
labors. The roof which shelters him was reared
by those to whom he owes his being. Some in
teresting tradition is connected with every inclo"
sure. The favorite fruit was planted by Lis fa
ther's hand. He sported in boyhood leside the
brook which still winds through the meadow.
Through the field lies the path to the village
school of earlier days. He still bears from the
window the veice tf the Sabbath Kll which
called his father to the house of God ; and near
at hand is the ?jot where his parents laid down
to rest, and where, when his time Las come, he
shall be laid by bis children.
These are the feel'ngs f the owner of the soil.
Words cannot paint tliem ; they flow out of the
deepest fountains of the heart ; they are the lifo
spring of a fresh, healthy and generous national
character. I Edward Everett.
The ladies of Maytville, Kentucky, recently
presented a pair of pantaloons to Miss Lucy
Stone, in Cue form. Miss Lucy accepted ti a
pants, but says she would have done so with a
mnch better will if they only had had a man in
i thee:.