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`Q7CCDa. 'SrUUTZe
PUBLISRED BY
THEODORE H. CREMER,
1 / 4 311F.E.MatA3o
The aJounxii." will be published every Wed
ne iday morning, an CO a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, n 50.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
rearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement is tube continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
cordingly.
TEMP ER.1.71 CE 110 USE.
~II'HE subscriber occupying the
large three story brick dwell-
II
ing house at the south east corner
I
_ of Allegheny and Smith streets, in
the borough of Huntingdon, the third story of
which during the last summer has been fitted
for sleeping rooms; having a large stable on
the premises, and having employed a care
ful person to attend to it slid take care et
horses, &c., informs the public that she is
prepared to accommodate such of her friends
and such strangers and travellers as may de
sire accommodation. She respectfully soli
cits a share of public patronage, and hopes
the trionds of Temperance will give her a
call. ESTH ER CL AR KE.
Huntingdon March 1, 184.3.
WASHINGTON HOTEL
MARKET SQUARE, HARRISBURG, Pa
The subscriber respectfully announces to his
friends and the public generally, that he has
taken the above named well known Tavern
Stand, (formerly kept by Win. E. Camp,)
where he will endeator to serve those that
may call upon him in the most satisfactory
manner: The House is centrally and plea
santly located, and is furnished throughout
with the best of bedding and other furniture,
and his accommodations are such as to make
it a convenient and desirable stopping place.
re. No exertions will be spared to make
it agreeable in all its departments to those
who may favor him with a call.
FREDERICK J. FENN.
December 21, 1842.
CHAIRS ! CHAIRS ! !
The subscriber respectfully in
forms the inhabitants cf Hunt
ingdon and its vicinity, that he
, opened an ,mtawbli.hment in
borough of Lewistown, for
the manufacture of Chairs, Set
tees, &c., of the following kinds, viz :
French Chairs, Half Fiend:, Grecian, Fan
cy curled Mae, Black Walnut, Office,
Fancy and Windsor,Boston Rocking,
Spring seat Mahogany, Cabinets, and
Studying Chairs.
SETTEES.
Moligany, Fancy, Cushion, cane and
eominon Settees,
on an improved and fashionable plan,
Settee Bedsteads,
both elegant and useful, designed to close up,
snaking a handsome Settee with cushion
seat for the day tune.
The subscriber having been for several
years east engaged in the above busin,ss in
the cities of New York and Providence It. I.
he flatters himself that he will be able to
give general satisfaction to all those who will
honor him with their patronage.
All the above mentioned articles, ar.d
every thing in his line of business he will
furnish in the latest style and fashion, on'
the must reasonable terms, and warranted
to do good service.
N. H.—Chairs, Settees, &c., repaired and
ornamented on the shortest notice and most
reasonable terms.
A constant supply of the above mentioned
articles may be seen at the Wareroom one
door east of the Store of Mrs. Jane M:Cor
mick and immediately opposite the store of
Patterson & licence.
GEORGE W. SWAIN.
Lewistown, Nov. 30, 1842.
Snyder's Pegetable Concrete.
T r, do certify that my wife was afflicted for
some time with a very severe cough,
with a pain in the breast, and after many
other remedies had failed 1 was induced to
procure a bottle of J. Snyder's Vegetable
Concrete, and she was perfectly restored by
use of part of a bottle
HUGH KELLEY,
For sale by Jacob Snyder, Hollidaysburg.
Jan. 18, 1843.
lEt WIM I
10,EGS to inform the inhabitants of Hun
tingdon and its vicinity, that he has
commenced the business of light and heavy
wagon making, and every kind of vehicle re
pairing. Having learnt his trade in England,
he is prepared to furnish either the English
or American style of wagons, and hopes by
diligence and attention to merit a share of
public patronage.
N. B. Shop near to Mr. J. Houck 's black
smith shop.
Huntingdon, April 19, 1843.—1 y.
IVIMPILLET LdIPS.
voTicz is hereby given that the Pam
phlet Laws of the late session of the
Legislature have come to hand and are ready
tar distribution to those entitled o receive
J
thm. J AMES STEEL, t
Prot'y.
July 12, 1843. —3t.
LANK BONDS to Constables for Stay
4,50 of Execution, under the new law, just
printed, and for sale, at this office.
110UCKS VEGETABLE LINA
MENT, for sprains and rhuina
tism, just received and for sale at the
drug store of T. K. Simonton. Also a
fresh supply of lioucks Panacea.
T. K. SIMONTON, Agent.
fluatinztion Oct. 5,164 g.
W.ll. Molting, R, M. KIIIICHRIDE
WILLIAMILMORRIS&CO,
vaLiktasaalo olacpbtamo
AND
COMMiSSiOU Merchants,
HAVRE DE GRACE, MARYLAND
sAVING taken the large and commodi
ous Wharf and Warehouse situated di
rectly
on the Canal Basin, are now prepared
to receive consignments of goods for tran
shipment or sale.
A general assortment of Groceries, &c.,
consistiag of Loaf and Brown Sugars, Coffee,
Molasaes, Sperm Oil and Candles, White,
'Yellow and Brown Soaps, Fish, Salt, Plaster,
&c., together with all kinds of Spices and
Paints—and also ready made Clothing will
be kept constantly on hand and disposed of
on city terms or exchanged for country pro
duce, Coal, &c.
A pril 19. 1843.-3 m.
THE GIRARD LIFE INSURANCE,
alsnaaawava ao) iteacuou
COVITAIT'Z'
OrpnlEdiDELP Dia
Office No. 150 Chcanut Street.
Make insurances of lives, grant anninuities
and Endowments, and receive and execute
Trusts.
Rates for insuring $lOO, on a single life.
Age. For 1 year, Fur 7 years. For life.
annually. annually.
20 $O9l $095 $177
30 1 31 • 1 36 236
40 1 69 1 83 3 20
50 1 96 2 09 4 60
60 4 35 4 91 7 00
EXAMPLE :—A person aged 30 years, by
paying the company $1 31 would secure to
Ins family or heirs $lOO, should he die in one
year—or for $l3 10 he secures to them $:000
Or fur $l3 60 annually for 7 years, he se
cures to them $lOOO should he die during
the 7 years—or for $23 60 paid annually du
ring life he provides for them 1000 dollars
whenever he dies— for $65 50 they would re
ceive 5000 dollars, should he (lie in one year.
Further particulars respecting Life Insur
ance, Trusts, or management of Estates and
. .
hem, may be had at
property con
the office.
B W. RICHARDS. Pi csident,
JNO. F. JAMES, Actuary.
Phil'a. April 19, 1843.-6 m. •
DAY, GERRISH 86 CO,
(4 EN ER L PRODUCE 3
CUaats••Zooev•s o ars.
ellerchants.
Granite Stores, lower side of Race street,
on the Delaware, Philadelphia.
MESPECTFULLY inform their friends
444 and the merchants generally, that tht y
have taken the large Wharf and Granite
Front Stores, known us Ridgeway's Stores,
immediately below Race etreeton addition
to their old wharf, where they will con
tinue the prodnce commission business, as
also to receive and forward goods mull points
on the Juniata, and North and West branches
of the Susquehanna Rivers. via. the Tide
Water, and Pennsylvania, and Schuylkill and
Union canals.
This establishment has many advantages
over any other iu the city in point of room
and convenience for the accommodation of
boats and produce. Being one of the largest
wharves on the Delaware, and the stores
extending from Water street to Delaware
Front. Five or six boats may at the same
timt be loading and discharging. The usual
facilities will be given on all consignments
entrusted to their charge, which will be thank
fully received and meet with prompt atten
tion. Salt, Fish and Plaster, constantly . on
hand and for sale at the lowost market price..
References, Philadelphia.
J. Ridgway,Esq, J Brock, son & Co
Jacob Lrx & Sun Waterman &Osbourn
Mulford & Alter Scull & 'lliumpson
Wilson, Seiger & Bro E J Etting & Bro
Bray, Burma & C o Morris,l'atterson & co
Lower & Barrow.
Lewistown.
& J Milliken A & G Blimyer
'atterson &Horner 3 McCoy, Eq.
Waterstred.
Stewart & Morrell W alike, Eas
February 8,1843.-6 m.
T1L4331E01113,11.
THOMAS DOUGALSS, GUN-SMITH,
IrDESPECTFULLY informs his friends,
q.. 14 and the public generally, that he still
continues the above business in
M'CONti ELLSTOWN,
and is prepared to manufacture all kinds of
Guns or Pistols, or to make any necessary re
pairs upon any article of the kind. If careful
attention will merit success, he hopes to se
cure the patronage ut the sharp shouters of
this county.
October 11, 184 2.
BOOTS AND 51101 , 35.
Leghorn and Straw Bonnets,
PALMLEAF AND LEGHORN HATS.
Merchants and others from Huntingdon
and adjacent places, are respectfully reques
ted to call and examine the stock of the above
kinds of goods, which is full and extensive.
and which will be sold at prices that will
give satisfaction to purchasers, at No. 168
Market, street southeast corner of sth street,
Philadelphia.
GEO. W. flc LEWIS B. TAYLOR.
Pila. Feb. 6,1843.-6 mo.
DR. WILLIAM SWOOPE,
'WOULD inform his friends and the pub
lic, that he has removed to the new
house, on the corner immediately above his
former residence in Main street. Where
he can at alt times be found, by those who
desire his professional services,
Ilunlingdon, Dec. 21, 1942.
dx - LVC1702.`275e3 ea, (10:34.2a+M.
romTn7.
THE MOTHERLESS.
Light is thy spirit, thou blooming child
With the bounding step, and the laugh so wild—
A stranger might pause thy sport to see,
And smile on the picture of health and glee ;
But I view thy gladness in deep distress,
For I mourn the fate of the Motherless.
Thou hest kissed that mother's clay cold check,
Thou knowcst that her accents, kind and meek,
Can cheer not thy listening car again;
Thou bast joined the gloomy funeral train,
And thy tears have flowed o'er the silent dead,
But those tears were banished as soon as shed;
0 ! the infant heart is slow to guess
The woes in store for the Motherless.
Thy father loges thee, but earthly cares
Spread in his way their engrossing snares:
lie toils for then in the world's vast mart,
But he only gives thee a shore of his heart.
There are none to point out thy budding charms,
Or to place thee fondly in his arms;
And his passing visit, and brief caress,
Can little profit the Motherless.
But thy childish glee is a blessed boon—
The knowledge of ill will come all too soon;
Thou must not paint, in thy dreams of bliss,
The clasping aria, or the thrilling kiss ;
A home, sweet one, thou dost now possess,
But drear is the home of the Motherless
When the flattering world thy steps invite,
To its flowery paths and its halls of light,
Thou wilt not the precious safe-guard hear
Of a gentle mother's whispered prayer.
These flowers shall perish, that light decline,
And the pangs of blighted hope be thine,
But who shall pity thy soul's distress 7
There are few to feel for the Motherless.
I may not the fearful storm allay
That darkly threatens thy future way,
I can but pray that a heavenly arm
May shelter thee from wrong and harm!
0 ! turn, dear child, to one above,
His mercy is more than human love,
And his power can even soothe and bless
The thorny path of the Motherless.
IligiCnnaLANMO'Ll3.
Prom the Metropolis.
THE VAILANT SUITOR.
g , For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar."
• en
sacrifice mo to this man, vt.no - rctmniverilleas ,
who is not worthy of my love ! Oh ! ere it he too
late, let my entreaties move you from this unhappy
purpose. "
This was the anxious prayer of a daughter to her
father, on the morning which was destined to see
her finally contracted to a man whom she disliked
and despised. But she spoke to obstinate cars. Gen
eral Velthein had been accustomed for many years
to receive unlimited obedience from those placed
under him in the Austrian military service, and,
though not a harsh parent, could not bare to have
his wishes thwarted even by an only daughter. "Do
not provoke me, Aurelia," said ho; "ought I not
to be the best judge of what is for your real interest
and happiness? And can I have any other objects
at heart in this match Besides, I will not take
your opinion of Baron Mantheim as the correct one.
He was a soldier, and circumstances permitted him
to see little actual service; I am sure he is brave,
and merits none of the foolish reflections which you
are prejudiced enough to throw out against him.—
He is wealthy, too, and can place you in a situation
befitting your birth and fatally.—Finally, Aurelia,
my word has been passed to him, and so there need
be no more said on the subject. "
The young lady was silent a moment, and the
General rose to leave the room.—" Oh, dear father,"
said Aurelia, anxiously, as she started to his side,
and laid her hand on his shoulder ; "if I can expose
this man's real character to you—if I can prove to
you his utter want of spirit, his absolute poltroonery,
will you not spare me this detestable union?" "Ay,
girl, if—if indeed you can prove this, matters would
certainly be somewhat changed. A coward were
no fit husband for a daughter of mine. But you
speak of things absurd—impossible; so no more of this.
Prepare yourself: Mantheim will soon be here.—
And fear not, my love, continued the General more
affectionately ; " but you will be happy. I have no
wish but to see you so , and I act as I do, because
I believe that that object can only be brought about
by crossing your own foolish desires at this mo
ment." Kissing her brow with parental fondness,
the General then left his daughter's apartment.
For a short time afterwards, Aurelia sat absorbed
in thought, her fair countenance indicating many
anxious emotions. At length she arose from her
seat, with the air of ono who has formed some deci
sive resolution, and rang for her waling maid.—
The latter came at the summons. As she entered
the room, Aurelia started somewhat hastily and dis
composedly, and turning the key of a little closet
door in her apartment. She then assumed a calm
manner, seemingly regretting the hurried action into
which she had been led. " Got the the necklace
which I wore yesterday, Bertha," said she to the
girl t "It is in your dressing closet, madam," an
swered Bertha, and she advanced with great alacrity
to the door of the closet, which her mistress had
amused her curiosity by looking so hastily. But
Aurelia interposed herself between the girl and the
closet, with sufficient quickness to prevent the other
from entering. " You need not trouble yourself to
seek it, Bertha," cried she; "I will got it myself.
Us you down stairs and learn when Baron Man-
theim arri% es. Inform him that I wish to speak with
him immediately, and bring him thither. Go and re.
member this." Bertha could not avoid the com
mand thus given her, but she could as little refrain
from betraying by her glances that the conduct of
her young; mistress had awakened in her both curi
osity and suspicion. To say the truth, the girl and
lady were not upon those terms on which young
heroines and their personal attendants are usually
found at least in stories of romances. Bertha had
been induced, by pretty liberal douccurs, to take
the side of the father, and of the lover favored by
him, in the matrimonial matters under agitation in
the old General's family, and as a natural conse
quence, had lost the confidence of the opposite party,
her own mistress.
When left by Bertha, Aurelia did not remain
long alone, for the waiting-maid soon returned
bringing with her the suitor countenanced by the
General. As regarded mere looks, the Baron
Manthient could not have been much complained of,
or objected to, by Aurelia. He was young, and at
least tolerable well favored. In attire and appear
ance, moreover, ho was very bold and martial, his
moustache being of even more than national promi
fence. After he had seated himself, and requested
to know tihat peculiar command the lady had at
that moment to honor him with, Aurelia addressed
him somewhat abruptly. "You are aware, sir,
that your addresses have been always distasteful to
me, and that I have endured them only in obedi
ence to my father's commando. They are now more
displeasing than ever." The suitor seemed but
little discomposed by the salutation, which, indeed,
communicated nothing new to him. "Let me
hope, madam," said he, in reply, " that time and
my anxious attentions, will remove this unfavorable
feeling." "Time zan do much, sir," returned the
lady, " but time can make no alteration in my sen
timents towards you. I assure you of this, and hope
that the assurance will make you forbear, even yet,
from pressing your suit on one who can neither be
happy with you nor make you happy." " Pardon
me, lady," replied the gentleman, assuming the ap
pearance of great devotion, "it does rest with you
alone, to make me happy; and you will excuse
me if I cannot consent to forego the prospects
which your father's kindness and his promise hold
out to rne.'l
A urolia looked down, and after a pause, answered
with a sllghz, apparent degree of confusion— , . Then,
$ nui.t leg to inform you that-.-since you show
ers who consider themselves ennuis. -.. „th.
in this matter."
a Others!" cried the lover, startled into percepti
ble loss of color; a what others can be entitled to
interfere in this matter Come, madam, you jest."
"I do not jest,' answered Aurelia, with a tone of
gravity, which made an obvious impresion on the
Baron, in spite of his attempt to assume a look of
ease: 4 I do not jest, sir.' There arc other parties--
there is one party at all events—who may feel called
upon to question the right of your perseverenee in
this suit against my fixed inclination.' 'Madam
what other party can this be ?' exclaimed the baron,
you must allude to a lover and who can he be ?
What will your father say to this madam? But,
pshsw, there is no such person. You but jest mad
am. Ido not,' said Aurelia, quietly, but firmly;
there is such a person, and at this moment he is not
for distant from us.' 'Not fur distant,' cried the
alarmed baron ; what do you mean lady I say
the person to whom I allude is not far distant,' re
peated the young lady, and that before you leave
this room an explanation must take place between
you.'
-
The General's daughter then rose, and advanced
to the closet formerly mentioned. She turned the
key in the door, and opening it slightly, exclaimed.
'Albert Imhoff!' Stop! stop! madam, for Heav
en's sake!' cried the baron, of whose qualities the
lady had expressed no incorrect opinion to her fath
er; 'stop, madam! I am not deaf to reason. If you
aro really attached to another, I should be sorry to
persist. What would you have me to do V Re
sign my hand freely and voluntary, answered the
lady ; hero aro my writing materials. Write me
such a resignation briefly and quickly. " What,
resign your hand of my own accord,' cried the bar
on; oh, madam, what will your father any to me 1'
'Albert! Albert!' exclaimed Aurelia, re-opening tho
closet door, and again speaking into the interior.—
' Stop, madam, for mercy's sake !' again cried the
baron; close the door, pray, I have but my oteord
—he may have pistols., and might shoot me dead
before I could move from this spot. I will write the
resignation.' Do so without delay, then,' answer
ed the lady. The baron answered hurriedly yes,
yes, without delay.'
Accordingly the alarmed suitor took his seat at
the table, and began to write in terms which the lady,
at his own request, dictated to him. The resigna
tion which she demanded was so full and unequivo
cal, that the baron's repugnance twice got the bettor
of his fears, mid induced to lay down his pen. But
the magical whisper of Albert ! Albert!' brought
him instantly to his senses, and lie was glad to com
plete the paper, and place it in the lady's hands.—
It may bo guessed that it was with no dignified look
or step that, at the dose of the operation, ho quitted
the apartment of the General's daughter.
Left alone, Aurelia did not enter the important
closet, but sat down on a sofa, waiting quietly for
the result of what had posed. She was not mista
ken in her calculation that Mantheint would fly
without delay to the General, and relate, in his own
way all that had happened. Within a quarter of an
hour, after the baron had quitted her, Aurelia was
visited by her father, and, at a short distance behind
came the baron. Both were fully armed. The
General was in a state of fearful excitewent and rage.
<Girl,' cried he, < shameless, wretched girl, it would
be charity to thee to take thy life on the spot.; but
first let me punish your betrayer. Where is he I—
< Father,' answered Aurelia, quietly, < for whom do
you ask l' <For your minion, miserable girl an
swered the General ; <show me instantly where he
is!' < There is no one here, father, to my knowl
edge,' said Aurelia search and you will ford it so.'
What, think you this trick will serve you? Was
not your base accomplice) but up here to extort a
resignation of your hand from the baron V answered
the angry father; < and was not a pistol held to his
head till your object was attained
The young lady knows too well that such was
the case, and that her accomplice is shut up at this
moment in that closet,' exclaimed the baron.—
' Indeed' said Aurelia, with a look of ineffable scorn ;
has such been your pitiful tale 7 Father, look hem.
If there bas been any ono but myself in this closet
to-day, banish me from your house and love for
ever:
Aurelia then led the way into the closet. Neither
there, nor about the apartments, did the general see
any one. He has escaped !' cried the baron. 'No!
ho has not escaped,' said Aurdia, disdainfully.—
Father, ask Baron Mantheim the name of this ac
complice—this holder of pistol's to men's heads!'
His name is Albert—Albert Imhoff' answered the
baron without questioning. Albert Imhoff!' ex
claimed the General; 'impossible! he died some
months since on the field of battle, he was once my
aid-de-camp.' Yes father it was impossible that
he should he here,' said Aurelia, but his name was
enough. The very name of a brave man was
enough to extort from Baron Mantheim's fears a
resignation of my hand!' But Bertha daughter'—
, Pardon me, dear father,' continued Auretia if I
used artifice to gain my purpose, and show you how
unworthy of the hand of a brave man's child was he
on whom you were about to bestow it. No one
was ever in my chamber. This resignation was
extorted not by pistols, but by the mere whisper of
a name. Why baron'—said tire amazed General,
turning round. But the baron had slipped quietly
away, nor did he ever re-appear to claim the annul
ment of the resignation.'
General Velthein was taught by the preceding
circumstruice, that it would be muds safer to allow
Auretia to choose her own partner I', life. She
repent of his having mu.%
choice us the matter.
Front the U. S. Gazelle.
Eturavoivs GILA.V3II.
We advise much exercise, active or passive, as
circumstances may require, or may favor, to our
citizens. A good long walk, or ride, every day, will
lengthen life, and multiply the pleasures of living.
And besides the mere physical agitation of a walk
or a ride, there is a change of thought that is whole
some—a divemion of mind from ono object to anoth
er, or from one set of objects to many. These ad
vantages are too touch overlooked by the young, mi
til a habit is acquired, when the vie inertias over
comes the conviction of a necessity for exercise, and
body and mind fail front a neglect to give them va
riety and change.
We love—though we have neglected the means of
health too long to hope for its acquisition—we love
to ride through the lanes and over the open fields in
the vicinity of the city, and catch the breathings of
Spring, while wo enjoy that rapid mental action
which denotes the improvement of time which ex
ercise and new scenery secure.
Ono rooming last week, we were allowing our
old horse Rolla to take his own tines in moving
along, a species of indulgence which he claims as a
privilege of age and old acquaintance, snaking up
for any seeming slowness in going forth, by a shuf
thug anxiety, in returning to reach his crib. There
had been a full of rain during the night, and the
clouds had not cleared away. Striking across a
field, we soon reached the object of our search. A
little mound of earth, only half sodded over, deno
ted the place where roan or.n HUNTER had been
laid a few weeks before. We alighted, and threw
Itolla's reins ever a low pine shrub, that grew at
the head of the grave, and gave loose to our own
feelings.
It is not seemly to mourn for a dog ; but when,
for eleven years, the animal has followed your foot
steps—when his clear voice has greeted your return,
or when coiled up at your feet, day after day,hc has
lifted his flexible eye-brows, and turned his dark
eyes to see when you would leave the writing table,
and go forth for his pleasure, as ho had tarried for
you, you feel as if the death of even a dog, might
warrant a melancholy sensation, and be pleaded in
excuse for a recollection at least of his canine vir-
Hunter had been a sort of precursor of our com
ing; and those who would meet us, as we came to
or went flora our office, would watch for Hunter,
that they might find us. A feeling had sprung up
between us, and we had learned even to check each
other's faults. Ho undoubtedly had most to do, or,
at least, the most to suffer, in that respect, but still
he tried, and sontetimes succeeded.
The poor dog had become a member of the family
when it was small; and the flock that had risen up
like olive branches, around our table, were affection
ately guarded, and tenderly fondled by Hunter.—
C:36E)CL3
But he never confessed the right of mastership in
them. He took his place on the hearth rug before
them, with as much independence as if they had
been his ofikpring, instead of ems; and when butt
ness or pleasure called us from the city, he took up
on himself the guardianship of the domestic circle,
and declined his daily visit to the office, as much as
if he had a pecuniary investment in the dwelling,
or was morally and legally responsible for the wel
fare of its inmates.
Hunter had been in perils. He was bitten, with
one other canine friend, by a mad dog. His friend
died with hydrophobia--kind attention saved Hun•
ter. He remembered it to the last ; and when the
sickness came from which he was not relieved, the
beseeching look and the particular emphasis of hie
moan, showed that he remembered with gratitude
favors past, and desired a re-application of the rent
edies. But ho asked in vain. He pined away, and
faculty after faculty departed, until voice failed, the
hearing ceased, the eye was lifted up slowly, but
dim, and the tail slightly moved, to intimate his re
cognition of him who had been so long his compan
ion, and his last effort was to lick the delicate hand
of a child, who had come to take his leave of one
that scented twined with his earliest love, and whose
name was the first word he had articulated.
Old Sampson took the dog in his barrow, and
went forth with a measured step, to find a place
where ho might give him the decency of burial,
without intruding upon the repose of human beings
who, made in a better image, justly claim a sanctity
for their dust.
The little procession as it went forth, had with it
something of a touching air. The body of Hunter
was decently covered, not ostentatiously, lest a ridi
cule should attach to the scene; and Sampson had
put on his best clothes, avowedly less for funeral
purposes, than that he might appear decently before
the mistress. Little Willey, the only follower of
the train, had drawn his cap over his eyes, to hide a
few hasty tears, and was regulating his step by the
solemn and measured movement of Sampson. Few
felt an interest to inquire what was hidden beneath
the white pall, and the unwonted melancholy of the
child was suffered to pass without injury.
When the procession had reached the place of
sepulture, the body was lowered, not thrown into
the grave, and Sampson remarked that the collar
was still about Hunter's neck. ,4 I'll take It off,"
add he; it will do for another dog."
Little Willey leaned over, and looked down into
the grave ; and then lifting his streaming eyes to his
have one, I don [ wnttt to aB. 4 , IhAVMAIP,I 4 _
his neck."
Sampson sodded up the grave, and turned to
wards home. Will you ride in the barrow," said
he to Willey.
The child turned, and looked at the catriage with
a shudder and walked onwards.
When Willey reached home, he went and sat
down alone beside "Hunter's house," and wept a
flood of tears; and it was only when the memo
rials of his faithful friend, more than twice his age,
had been removed that he could dry up his tears.—
And even now the mention of the dog makes the
" clouds return after the rain," and cast a gloom over
the sunny spirit of the child.
While bending over the resting place of the
faithful amiiml, it was natural that we should think
of his merits, and what we had lost in him, so sel
fish is human grief; and half of what constituted
our painful feelings while thus lousing, resulted from
the certainty that we should no more benefit by his
Who would weep in this world, if what was to
ken away diminished nothing of his enjoyment I
We mounted the carriage to return, but yet linger
ed : reflection had come, and with it came fancy.—
Imagination was busy to people space with objects
that we once had loved, and now mourned; and,
for a moment, it seemed as if the smiling face of
Hunter was before us, and his head half turned, us
if to invite us to move. A slight breeze from the
West wafted onward the fog, that was hanging over
the river at a little distance, and as masses swept by
us, one scented to take the place and the form which
our fancy had just given as Hunter's. We started.
The airy fonts played fantastically around, and then
vanished in the thicket beyond. It could scarcely
have been all fancy, for the horse, Rolla, moved
suddenly, as was Isis wont when formerly Hunter
had manifested his joy at the prospect of exercise,
by jumping upwards towards his bridle, with a sharp
but friendly bark. .
The misty from of the dog re-appeared at the top
of the hill, and as it passed rapidly onwards, was
tinged with rainbow lines from the sun glittering
between the broken clouds above.
We know that if men would weep, there ore all
around them graves of the good, whose loss the
living may deplore, whose life was fruitful of good.
for man. But may not ono turn aside, also, from
the beaten path of grief or of joy, and in solitude
remember, that beneath the sod before him moulders
one who never deceived, and who, though not gifted
with words to make known his affections, had yet
the skill to express them with most miraculous
organs.
Dr. Johnson frequently made use of the following
4 , More flies are taken with a drop of honey than a
tun of vinegar." An useful argument in favor of
politeness and atlibility, as conciliating the sin c
tions of mankind more than that austerity of manners
which indicates conscious superiority.