Vol.. VIII, No. 16.]
PUBLISHED BY
THEODORE H, CREM ER,
Tom?? I`/jp.
The "ionimst." will be published every
Wednesday morning., at two dollars a year,
If paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid
wittitu six months, two dollars and a half.
No subscription 'received for a shorter pe•
riod than six months, nor any paper discon
tinued till all arrearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square,
will be inserted three times for one dollar,
and fur every subsequent insertion twenty
five cents.. If no definite orders are given as
to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and
charged accordingly.
POSTP.T.
The Mother's Bible Gift.
BY MRS. BARON CORNWALL WILSON,
When in future distant years
Thou shalt look upon this pace,
Through the crystal vale of tears,
That dim our eyes ;n after age,
Think it was a mother's hand,
Though her smile no more thou'lt see,
rointipg towards that better land,"
Gales sacred gift to thee!
Lightly thou esteem'st it now,
For thy heart is young and wild
And upcn thy girlhood's brow,
Nought but sunny hope bath smiled!
But when disappointments come,
And the world begins to steal
Ail thy spirits early bloom,
'l' hem its value thou wilt feel!
To thy chamber still and lone,
Fly,—and search this sacred page,
NVhen earth's blandishments are gone,
Every grief it will assuage!
Close thy door against the din
Of worldly fully—worldly fear—
Only let the radiance in
Of each heav,nly promise there!
When the bruised spirit bends
'Neath the weight of sorrows chain
When of all life's summer friends,
Not one fLtterer shall remain,
Lay this unction to the wound
Of thy smitten, bleeding breast,
Here the only balm is found
That can yield the weary rest!
Nut alone in hours of wo
"Search the Scriptures." but wltil e joy
Doth life's blissful cup oierilow,
Be it oft thy sweet employ ;
So remembering in thy youth,
. Him whose Spirit lights each page,
Thou shalt have abundant proof,
He will not forget thine age.
From the New Mirror.
The Sword and the Staff.
The following song, suggested by the el
oquent remarks of Mr. Summers, on the
.presentation of the sword of GENERAL
WASHINGTON and the cane of DOCTOR
FRANKLIN, to the Congress of the United
States, was sung by Mr. Russell at his re
cent concerts in this city.
The sword of the hero!
The staff of the sage!
Whose valour and wisdom
Are stamp'd on the age!
'lime hallow'd mementos
Of thtse who have riven
•• 'lie sceptre from tyrants,
The lightning from heaven!"
This weapon, oh Freedom!
Was drawn by thy son,
And it never was sheath'd
'Till the battle was won!
No stain of dishonor
Upon it we see!
'Tway never surrender'd—
Except to the free!
111.
While Fame claims the hero
And patriot sage,
Their names to emblazon
On History's page,
No hailer relics
Will Liberty hoard,
Than FRANKLIN% staff, guarded
By WASIIINGIVN% sword _
CURE FOR "WARTS IN HORSES AND CAT
ins.--A valuable friend, of great exper
ience in horses and cattle, and who has
imported and bred many of the best in the
United ? States, says that strong wash made
ol pearlash and water, applied thrice a
,day, will remove tumors and wurte.
THE JOIJIINAL.
~:ta~~:~:~A~r~o ~ a.
From the London Keepsake.
The Painter's Daughter.
BY N. MITCHELL, ESQ.
.liothor of the " Traduced" ac.
Among the most interesting struggles
fur national freedom that modern history
records may be named the revolts in the
low countries again:, ant .14 Coin
olic bigot, 'hill, I. ~t ; :uul witch
the form • I 1.1 h. • league
of Utrecht, earner lit tie let:opined 'ride
pendence of the United Provinces. The
persecution of the Protestants in the Ne•
therlands had commenced, and the atro
cities committed by the bloody minded
Alva, Philip's favorite general, had skew.
dy driven many towns to open rebellion ;
some of these Jelled the utmost exertions
of the Spanish arms; but others were
sacked, and every cruelty that religious
fanaticism, as well as secular vengeance,
could devise, was committed upon the in
habitants.
Harlem had been invested for nearly a '
year, and the patriotism of the stout burg
hers gas only equalled by the sufferings
they endured, arising from famine and dis
ease. Within this city lived a painter,
whose fate, with that of his devoted
daughter, forms the subject of this sketch.
Hu!beck fur some years had been unable
to prosecute his art, for close attention
had induced a complaint of the eye, and
at last he was stricken with blindness.—'
The protracted seine was drawing to a
close, fur the town was unable to hold out
longer when Ho!beck feeble and in sick
ness, lay stretched upon his pallet. He
was in extreme poverty, and in a state of
things when the gold of the wealthy failed
to procure the necessaries of life, it may
be presumed that it fared but ill with the
needy. In truth, the painter was starv
ing; everything that could be made avail
able to satisfy the cravings of nature had
been devoured, and now he had only to
curse the enemies of his country and die.
By his bed-side, watching his worn and
withered features, a young girl was seat
ed ; her age might hate been sixteen. She
was one of those beauties whose character
istics are gentleness and delicacy; her
locks, glossy and golden, streamed over
her shoulders like a waterfall seen in the
sunset; and her eyes had that peculiarly
soft and melting light ‘Thich bespeaks a
heart all love and tenderness.
The exquisite beauty of chat girl seemed
but ill suited to the squalor, and the air of
wretchedness which pervaded the place ;
yet them she watched tile debil:tated and
stricken old man--fur the blind painter of
Ilarlein was her father.
Ah: how fondly did Ho'beck dote on
the only being who had not deserted him
in the dim and desolate winter of his
years: The enthusiasm and the love
which once burned in his heart fur the
creations of his fancy, were now transfer
red to that child. She was inure worship
ped than saint or virgin—the' bright bow
spanning the cloud of his despair. He
could not behol,l her loveliness, now de
veloping itself in womanhood, but he could
hear her voice ; and that voice murmured
to him sweet as if it came froin paradise,
sumnionim , up thoughts of all pure, bright
and beautiful things.
" Pauline" said the Painter faintly, "is
it indeed true that the Governor has cap•
itulated—that the enemy has entered the
city 1"
"Yes, father can you not hear their
shouts 1"
The sick man raised his head in the at
titude of listening; his sightless orbs were
directed to the spot where he knew his
daughter was stated ; the muscles of his
face were convulsed, and the dew of ler
ant stood upon his forehead.
"They come:" he cried ; can hear
flying steps, the shouts ut savage soldiery,
and the shrieks of women:"
Father, do not fear, our habitation
has too mean an appearance to tempt the
cupidity of soldiers."
" 1 know not that ; there arc other trea
sures here inure valuable—at least to me
—than silver or gold. Haste thee, Pan
lina, and secure the door !"
The girl obeyed her parents' command,
and passed a bar of iron across the low
oaken door. yet this very precaution, and
the appearance of stength which the dingy
house exhibited, proved its worse safe
guard, and was the means of bringing ruin
upon ite occupants.
Thank thee,Paulina! and now I will pray
to God fur thy safety. It :ratters little
what happens unto me ; the sands of my
life are nearly run, and if they kill me, I
shall but go to my long home a little ear.
tier than age and disease might have car
ried me, and the old man clasped his
hands and seemed in fervent prayer.
The shouts of the Spanish soldiers soun
ded more near. Exasperated by the long
defence which the city had made, they
were determined on taking signal veng
eauce on the inhabitants. Men and wo
men were now rushing up the obscure
street in which Holbeek roided, with au
G. P. M.
"ONE COUNTRY, OhR CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA. WEDNESDAY, MAY 3, ISA
intention apparently, of sheltering, them
selves in their houses. Evi,n alarm was
visible now on the countenance of the fair
girl, and she drew mechanicly more close.
ly to the bed of her sick parent.
Cod protect thee, Paulma, but the
Spaniards are in our Meet !" The words
had scarcely dropped from the painter's
lips, when a heavy blow, as from a ham
mer, oi• bludgeon, fell upon the door, and
hoarse v,ices called fur admittanceolr-
Holbeck started up in his bed, and the
girl, with a shudder, turned her eyes to
the entrance, at the same time cowering
as if by instinct, toward her blind and fee.
ble protector.
.03 comrades, to the next house! Lopez
land myself claim this. Aha ! there is
something good here, or we should not
have all these bolts and bars— a miser, 1
warrant with his money-bag. Myneei !
mynheer ! open your smoky - hatch, or we
shall knock in your harricado:"
The blows were repeated, but the
trembling inmates returned no answer.—
They trusted that the iron-bound door
would resist the efforts of the assailants
yet the stregth of the defence served only
to excite the ardor and curiosity of the
soldiers in fact, they imagined that no one
but a wealthy person would take such
pains to fortify his private dwelling con
st.quently they hoped, despite exteral up
' pearances, to find within a hoard of gold.
' Thou sneaking mule ! thou crafty old
fox! may St. Peter lock us forever in pur
gatory, if we do not unearth thee !" A
crash followed ; the lower panels of the
door were burst through and the soldiers
with iron pikes in their hantk sprang into
the house.
The spatnards were ferocious looking
fellows with inflamed eyes and huge muss
taches. They gazed for a minute stead;
lastly on the shrinking girl ; and then at
the emaciated invalid,
" Lopez:" exclaimed the elder of the
troopers, it is as I suspected. I thought
he must he a rich old grub who would
earth himself up in such a strong den
we don't find a right round sum of gold
florins here I'm no soldier of king Phil
ip's.
I opine the like friend ; miser is written
in every line of that brown parchment
lace. Now then mynheer: lew words
and speedy husine,s. Inform us without
dehy where you keep your inunry.hag.s—
d'ye hear I"
- "Men:" exclaimed the venerable pain•
ter, "you mistake my circumstances, 1 am
in great poverty."
"No doubt of it ; but do not hope to de
ceive us; misers, like thee, forever bewail
their lack of this world's good. Come,
thou hadst best deliver us the florins, or
the lawyers to mm•row will be accommo
dated with thy skin to engross deeds upon.
" No trifling, old MUD: thy money I'
roared the elder trooper.
Paulina, on bended knees, and with
lifted hands beseeched the soldiers to be
lieve the assertion of her destitute and
blind father. "Pity Mtn," she cried ; "he
is ill, and by this cruel treatment ye will
hasten his end. Have ye fathers? or arc
ye yourselves fathers ? then compassion
ate, have mercy op un mine 1"
"Talk away, my pretty wench, fir thou
dolt look charming in that posture. B.
the Virgin Juan, I don't know hat f oil
resign the florins to thee, unit take for my
share of the booty this plump a Ld luscious
littlelame— ha 1 ha 1"
"Do, my. friend, and allow me to pui.ket
the money. Now, my 'alter, nu more sul• I
kiness, but discover thy hoard. Thou
won't then I perceive I must teach thee 'I
thy duty. How dust thou like that?
The sick man groaned with pain for the
trooper had thrust b.e sharp pike into his
arty. Oh ! the anguish of the daughter,.
as she saw the blood gush from the
wound: he whom it had been her care to l l
screen [ruin the vely breath of heaven,
whom she had teraled acd nursed su long,
so anxiously—to behold him thus wanton.'
ly put to torture--it awoke all the agony
which her nature was capable of enduring.
She sprang to his side, she hung with a
bursting heart over the the bleeding limb;
yet, and anon, would she glance up at the
savage soldiers with the Bashing eyes of
the tigress deprived of her young.
Paulinal" whispered the old man,
" regard not the wound, stay thou by me
child, for I consider my life as nothing
compared with injury, with pollution to
thee," and he thrust his hand beneath his
pillow, its if to clutch at something there.
" Well comrade, I shall carry off my
prize, and thou mayest remain here as
long as thou dolt choose, worming from
the old heretic the secret of his looney.—
Hark'ee, sweatlteart, come with ine. By
the mass! but thou art the prettiest maid
in the Provinces."
'lhe trooper advanced to seize Paulina,
and by the shrinking imp/meta of his
child the painter became aware of his pur
pose. frinlbeck held her in his bleeding
arms ith the tenacity of love and des
pair, crying in piercing accents, "'fake
her not away from me ; take her not from
incl all —my aim:. than lite ;
kill me, but spare my innocent child."
The soldier rou,ghly drew her along;
but the lather would but loose his hold.—
The blind man sought fur his dagger,
but
could not find it, for it had dropped on
the floor; at length, tainting through exer
tion and loss of blood, he bank down in a
state of insensibility. The shrieks of the
girl; availed her nothing in a district which
was given over of pillage and rapine.--
But Paulina suddenly grew calm ; some
stern resolve had taken possession of her
breast, or she had indeed resigned herself
to her fate.
" Soldier!" she exclaimed, " permit
me to say one parting word to my father;
let me bind up his word, and I will accom
pany thee in peace."
The man, who did not relish a continu
ance of her cries and wild struggles, was
induced to comply with her request.
"Then speak to the obstinate old rebel,
an' thou wilt, but let thy conk:tepee be
brief.
Pauline knelt by her father; but the
aged man, already broken down by . sick
ness and famine, was evidently dying.
"Paulina my child, where art thou
he faintly cried.
• Father, am wtth you still I"
"'Thank heaven:" my beloved one:
let me pass my hand over thy face ; thou
art nut weeping, Paulina ; then our trier,
ciless foes have left us. Clod preserve thee,
and bless! My heart seems to freeze;
one kiss. Farewell:"
The blind painter of Harlem ceased to
breathe.
No tears, indeed, gushed from the mai
den's eyes, fur the lire in her brain had
dried up the source whence flow these
milder tokens of sorrow, The agony in
that gentle bosom had reached the point
where reason ceases her wonted influence,
and frenzy begins. She threw back the
masses of golden hair from her hut fore
head ; she crept along the fluor, and se
cured the dagger.
The soldiers surveyed her in silent cu
riosity, and they smiled on each other,
imagining that she designed to defend her
self.
" The saints protect us! my sweet
amazon, and thou dust mead to iiu battle
against two soldiers 'Allis majesty's guard?
ait lib: but enough! and the blacker vil
lain of the two drew nearer to her.
Wretched man:" cried Pauline, with
a burst of indignation, her eyes flashed,
and the purple vains swelling on her beau•
filial forehead, approach ice nut! ye leave
this house to the sorrows of a child over
her dead father, ur ye bear me away a
corpse."
then dead or alive thou shalt be
mine!" exclaimed the soldier, springing
toward the girl. He paused for one in
stant ere he grasped her she looked up
into his face with a stern resolve of heroic
virtue, even the villian beneath the flash.
jug of that bright and majestic eye, seemed
fur a moment to quail. lle advanced—he
hesitated; again he stretched forward his ,
arms ; no, lie did not seize her, for ere his
defiling touch was on 'her, she hadsheath.,
ed the danger in her own heart
The young girl's bright blued, welling
from a bosom where hlial affection and
virtue had triumphed over the fear
de, tli, bubbled forth upon the body of her'
lather ; and there resting on his
brea,t, sue lay beyond the 'lower of human
ti,nds who scowled near her, her white
lids veiling her dimming eyes, her rich
cheek gradually turning to the alabaster,
and her last sigh of purity breathing from
lips that soon would be still for ever.
The Spaniards gazed fur a few moments
on the wreck they had made, and then,
with a low laugh, turned away in search
of new victims.
From the Portland Tribune,
The Wife of a Shoemaker.
"1 can always smell a shoemaker it
there be one in the route," said the proud
and fashionable Eliza----, whose
wealthy parents had brought her up in the
foolish principle that labor was degrading.)
Iler ideas had been cast in such a mould
that when chance threw a mechanic or far
tner in her way, she endeavored by her
Acts or her conversation, to convince him
that she was his superior. Indulged with
all that wealth could bestow, the haughty
girl had no wish ungratified. A desire
was simply expressed, and her request
was granted. Others attended to her
wants, so that she grew up wholly unac
quainted with domestic affairs, but shy
could not do common sewing. When in
company, the proud girl took particular
pains to show her contempt for the worthy
mechanic, - by making some impropur re.
marks, or nut deigning to cast upon him is
single gracious luok. It was at a public
house, where a journeyman shoemaker
happened to b.: present, that Eliza made
the remark, "I can always smell a shoe
maker." The words were addressed to
a young woman who expected to become
the wife of the very mechanic; but she
being more wise and less fashionasle, did
not deign to reply, but turned the convcr
13ation to turns mv: - c tivir,
How unstable is property ! The man
who to•day rides in his carriage, the pos
sessor of millions tu•worrow may ba a
bankrupt. • .
Events which the most prudent cannot
foresee, nor the closest calculators guuid
against, have unexpectedly dashed the
fondest hopes and sunk the largest pro
perty. It was so in the case of the Ether
of Eliza. When in the lull tide of pros
perity, adding riches to riches, and never
dreaming that life would be any thing but
sunshine, a dark cloud suddenly uver
spread his sky. His extensive wealth
was swept almost instantaneously from
his grasp, and he became a pour man.—
His house, his carriage, his splendid fur.
niture was taken from him, and the pos
sessor of a fortune became a beggar. The
gorgeous palace was exchanged for a
hovel, servants were dismissed, and the
delicate, the proud Eliza was the daughter
of as poor a father as the humblest me
chanic of her acquaintance. Poor girl! it
was an awful stroke for her. She had
lived as it riches had nu wings, but were
as permanent as her family name. With
her erroneous ideas, totally unprepared
fur such a sad reverse of fortune, it cause
with tenfold more poignancy.
The shoe maker married the girl of his
choice, the woman who considered it an
honor to be the daughter ol a hard working
mechanic, and the wife of a journeyman.
He prospered, commenced business for
himstll, was steady, industrious and eco•
numical, and as a matter of course, suc
ceeded well and lived comfortably and
contentedly. In a lew years he purchas
ed a smal l . but convenient dwelling and
by the prudence of his wife, and his in
dustrious habits, became an independent
man, and lives as happy as mortal could
wish.
It was a bitter cold day in the depth of
winter, when a female, pour and destitute,
called at the dwelling of the mechanic,
begging fur a little assistance. She was
the once haughty Eliza -. The benev
ulent wife uf the mechanic took pity on
her, and being in want of help, took her
into the family. Nothing hard was put
upon her to do, while she in tears expres
sed her gratitude fur the kindness ieceiv,
ed, and regretted Iron, her heart the fully ,
l
of her early days. "if I had my life to
live over again," she would often say,
I would accustom myself to labor, and
do all in my power to elevate the um
chanic."•
_
Eliza lived in this pleasant family fur
some time, during which she became ac
quainted •with a juurneymaii shoemaker in
the employ of her friend, and finally be
came his bride. Having learnt a useful
' lesson by her misfortune, Eliza made a
prudent and industrious wife, arid now
lives conifurtably arid happily. When
ever she hears a young and thoughtless
girl speak in terms of contempt of au ins
dustrious mechanic, or sees him shunned
on account of his freckled suubrowned
face and calloused barrels, she administers
a gentle rept out* and relates her own ex
perience.
From this story many a pampered deco•
tee of fashion may learn a profitable lee'
son. If you are borne along by the tide of
successful prosperity, are indulged by in
judicious parents in all the luxuries and ex
travagances and follies of life, havean eye.
we pray you, to the future. Trust rt.), to
uncertain riches, bat prepare yourself for
every-emergency in life. Learn to work;
and not to depend upon servants to make
your bread, sweep your floor and darn
your stockings. Above all, do mat esteem
lightly those worthy arid honorable young
men who sustain themselves and help to
support their aged parents by the work a
their own hands, while you caress and
receive to- your houses, those lazy, idle
popinjays, who never lift their lingers to,
help themselves as long as they can keep,
soul and body together, and get funds to
live in the fashion. If you are wise you
will look at this subject in the light that
we do, arid when you are old enough to
become wives, you will prefer the lamest
mechanic with not a cent to commence
life, to the fashionable loafer with a capi
tal of ten thousand dollars. Whenever
we hear the remark, "such a young lady
has married a fortune," we always trem
ble for het future prosperity. Nine ea
ses out often, property left to children by
wealthy parents, turns out to be a curse
instead of a blessing. Young women, re
member this ; and instead of sounding the
purses of your lovers and examining the
cut of their coats, look into their habits
and hearts. Mark it they have trades rind
can depend upon themselves, with minds
that will lead them to look above a butter
fly existence, and if so, always give pre
fereace to them. Talk not about the
beautiful white skin and the soft delicate
hands, and the fine appearance of the
young gentlemen, let not these foe& ah con
siderations engross your thou;hts. On
the contrary, let a healthy constitutiou, it
stout fist, and a brown skin, accompanied
with a virtuous department, induce you to
make that choice w . .iidt will result ii. e our
tultio; hapj,;nc.;;.
[WuoLE No. 2EO.
I
. 1'146 La IV OF KINDNESS.
speak so cross," said one little boy yes
terday in the street to another. " Don,t
speak Cu cross—there's nu use init."—
We happened to be passing at the time,
and hearing the injunction, or rather the
exhortation—l 4 it was made in a hot tato
ry tone and manner—we set the juvenild
speaker down as an embryo Philosopher.
In south, touching the point involved in
the boyish tliffieulty which made occasion
fur the remark, he might properly be colt;
sidered as at maturity. What more cold
Solomon have said on the occasion] Ti uc,
he has put it on record, that " a soft An
swer turueth away wrath," and this hd.
ing taken as true—and every body know%
it to be so—it is evidence in laver of tint
superiority of the law tit kindness over
that of wrath. But our young street phi
losopher said pretty much the same thing
substantially, when he said, I. don't speak
so cross--there's no use Wt." No in
deed—there is certainly no use in it. Ott
the contrary, it invariably dues tinkle
harm. Is a matt angry ? it inflames his
ire still more f and coutirms in his emit: ,
him who by a kind word, and a gentle
forbearing demeanor, might be converted
into a friend. It is in tact an addition of
fuel to a flame already kindled. And
what do you gain by it I Nothing desira
ble certainly, unless discord, strife, con
tention, " hatred, malice and all unchari
tableness," be desirable. Let the boy
philosopher be heard, then. lie speaks
•' the words of truth and soberness."—
" Don't speak no cross—there's nu use het.
Mr. politician, you are engaged in an
argument with your neighbor, your person.
al friend. Can you not conduct the con
troversy witholt getting angry] Most as
suredly you can, if you but permit your
judgment to rule, and exclude passion as
a prompter. There is no good reason why
you should quarrel with your friend, be
cause you and he do not ag ree in opinion
upon some given point, but thereis "every
reason in the world" why you and he, lur
the sake of yourselves shit of society,
should remain in a state of mutual amity.
peace, and good will. In Congress, and
in the several state and municipal legisla
tures, quarrels frequently arise. DI blood
is stirred up, and bile engendered, simply
because the parties disputant forgot to re
duce the law of kintluQss to practice; amid
we apprehend that the history of the polls.
• on election days, would show the same
cause for all the riots and disorders, the
• personal quarrels and individual violence.
which have disgraced our elections, and
gi levet! the sincere friends tit free tepid)-
, bean institutions, to the great jov of all
everywhere, who are unfriendly to them.
To teachers of schools, of every grade,
' . the law of kindness in all important.—
. Time was when the tescher toys net only
himself a despot, but a tyrant, and upheld.
in the exercise of his arbitrary will, to al
most any extent agreeable to himself, by
!parental authority, and even by authority
of law.
But those timeg have, measurably at
least, passed away ; and the instructors
of youth are beginning to learn, aud to
practice oh their acquired knowledge, that
the law of kindness. rather than that of
force, is nut only immure potent to the ac..
comphshment of the purposes had in
view in the institution of schools, but far
more in accordance with the spirit of the
age. Parents, too, begin to open their
eyes to the fact, that the day of their ty
ranny is gone by. 'We shall, however,
say but little on this point now, because
we intend to take it up on some other
more convenient occasion. It may be
well enough, however, to remark in pass
ing, that much of the evil which constitutes
' the. burthen of parental complaint, as ex
isting in the. rising generation," is main
ly attributable to a neglect on the part of
parents, to reduce to practice the law of
kindness, of rove, in the training up of
their children. This law we hold to to
perfectly consistent in both theory and
practice, with all time strictness of discip
line which the must rigid parental discip
linarian could reasonably contend for;
and they who do not observe it, must be
content to submit to the imputation of
having a domestic charge which they are
unfit to manage, and of beink the real
source of touch of the social evil, of which
they complain.
A BEAUTIVeL I(ol:TU.—What is more
beautiful to the mind's eye than a youth in
the vigor of his days, with cheeks radiant
as the morning, and a brow brilliant as
the sun, with a long nine in his mouth ; and
great a chew of tobacco hi his cheek.
"Oh, ma ! do you know I'm next to the
head in my class at school!" "Hoar girt!
your pa will be an delighted! fly deur
husband do you hear that Henrietta is
next to the head of her class!" "Indeed,
my love, I am very glad to hear it j pray.
Henrietta, how many are there in your
class?" "Two, papa !"
0!1 ! f,
"ur i I n, to fiq ~.u!utrtl