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* QP 4 COno `Q7aa.U, O `C:D ,. . eLud3.
THEODORE H, CHEWIER,
The ...loom.," will be published every Wed
ne +day morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 50.
No aubscriptim 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 advcrtistment is to be continu
ed, it will he kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
W. 11. Moinm, 11, M. KIIIKBRIDE
HAVRE DE GRACE, MARYLAND
&VING taken the large and commodi
-4,41.1 one Wharf and Warehouse situated di
rectly on the Canal Basta, are now. prepared
to receive consignments of goods for tran
shipment or sale.
A general assortment of Groceries, &c.,
consisting of Loaf and Brown Sugars, Coffee,
Molasses, 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.
April 19 1843 —3m.
THE GIRARD LIFE INSURANCE,
asulaziaaviT ta3.ld) 4.c21/04 - 0
OF P 111.L.1 D E P 1111.1.
Office No. 159 Cheenut St r eet.
Make insurances of lives, rant anninuities
and Endowments, and receive and execute
Rates for insuring $lOO, on a single life.
Age. For 1 year. For 7 years. For life.
20 10 91 •$0 95 $177
30 1 31 1 36 2 36
40 1 69 1 83 3 20
.50 196 209 460
60 4 35 4 91 7 00
EXAMPLE :—A person aged 30 years, by
paying the company 91 31 would socure to
his family_ or heirs . •, •
year4--or tor e 3 • •
Or for $l3 60 annually for 7 years, he se
cures to them $lOOO should he die during
the 7 years—or for 323 GO paid annually du- ,
ring life he provichs for them 1000 dollars
whenever he dies— for 865 50 they would re
ceive 5000 dollars, should he die in one year.
Further particulars respecting Life Insur
ance, Trusts, or management of Estates and
property confided to them, may be had at
13 W. RICHARDS, President.
JNO. F. JAMES, Actuary.
• Phi Pa. April 19, 1843.-6 m.
DAY, GERRISH 8o CO,
GENERAL I'R( H
Commission and Forwardin
Granite Stores, lower side of Race street,
on the Delaware, Philadelphia.
MESPE C' mercy LL i generally, e that they thir frien
and the merchants e
save taken the large W turf and Granite
Front Stores, known as Rid gew iiy's Stores,
immediately below Race street, in addition
to their old wharf, where they will con
\Untie the produce commission business, as
also to receive and forward goods mall points
on the Juniata, and North and West branches
of the hanna Rivers. via. the Tide
Water, end Susque Pennsylvania, and Schuylkill and
This establishment has many advantages
over any other in 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
Feint. Five or six boats may at the same
"time be loading and discharging. The usual
facilities will he given on all consignments
entrusted to their charge, which will he thank
fully received and meet with prompt aiten
don. Salt, Fish and Plaster, constantly . on
hand and for sale at the lowost market price
J. Ridgway,Esq. Brock, son 8c Co
Jacob Lex & Son Watrman &Osbourn
Mulford & Alter Scull & Thompson
Wilson, Seigel . & Bro L J Etting & aro
Bray, Barcroft 8c C o Morris,Patterson & co
Lower & Barrow.
3 & J Milliken A & G Blimyer
Patterson & Horner J McCoy, Esq.
Stewart & Hotrell E W Wike, Esq.
February 8,1843.-6 m.
BOOTS AND SHOES.
Leghorn and Straw Bonnets,
PALHLEAF 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 140. 168
street south-east corner of sth street,
CEO. W. Ex LEWIS 13. TAYLOR.
Pila. Feb. 6,1843.-6 mo.
BLANK DEEDS, of an improved
form, for sale at ibis office.
Alfo BLANK PETITIONS FOR
Th.? Mother's Znjunction.
111 r MnS. L. BIGOVIINEY.
Deal gently, thou, whose hand host won
The young bird from the nest away,
Where eareless, 'neath a vernal sun,
She gaily carroll'd day by day;
Tlie;hatust is lone—the heart must grieve,'
From whence her timid wing dolls soar;
We'll pensive Hot, at gush of eve,
Yet hear her gushing song no more.
Deal gently with her—thou art dear,
Beyond what vestal lips have told ;
And like a lamb from fountains clear,
She turns confiding to thy fold.
She, round thy sweet domestic bower,
The wreath of changeless love shall twine,
Watch for thy step at vesper hour,
And blend her holiest prayer with thine.
Deal gently, thou, when, far away,
'Mid stranger scents her foot shall rove,
Nor let thy tender cares decay—
The soul of woman lives on love;
And shouldst thou, wondering mark a tear
Unconscious from her eyelid break,
Be pitiful, and soothe the fear
That man's strong heart can ne'er partake.
A mother yields her gem to thee,
On thy true breast to sparkle rare—
She places 'neath thy household tree
The idol of her fondest care;
And by thy trust to be forgiven,
When judgment wakes in terror wild,
By all thy treasured hopes of heaven,
Deal gently with my darling child.
" The Old Arm Chair."
«I love it—l love it—and who shall dare
To, chide me, for loving that Old Arm Chair!'
I've treasured it long, as a holy prize;
I've bedewed it with tears and embalmed it with
Would ye learn the spell A iitoTtimi sat there !
A sacred thing is that Old Arm Chair.'
" In childhood's hour I lingered near
That hallowed spot, with listening oar;
And gentle the words that mother would give,
To St me to die, to teach me to live.
She told me ill would never betide,
With Truth for any creed, and mytsled for my guide.
She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,
As I knelt beside that Old Arm Chair.'
,4I eat and watched her many a day,
When her eye grew dim mil her locks were gra:
Years rolled on—The last on - esiirls
My idol was shattered, my earth-star fled,
I learned how much the heart con bear,
When I saw her die in that 'Old Arm Chair!'
.'Tis past—'tis past—but I gaze on it now
With a quivering breath and throbbing brow :
'Twos there she nursed me—'iwas there she died-,
And memory flows with lava tide.
Say it is folly, and deem me weal:,
While the scalding drop starts down my check:
But I love it—l love it—and cannot tear
My soul from that mother's Old Arm Chair!"'
TUE 1133 TURN---Or How is it?
BY T. S. AIITIIVA
It's nearly a year now since I was home,' Lucy
Gray said to her husband, 'and so you must let me
go for a lbw weeks.'
They had been married some four or five years,
and never had been separated during that time for a
'I thought you called this your homey Gray
said, looking up with a mock•ser ious air.
'I mean my old home,' Lucy replied in a half
affected tone of anger. .Or to make it plain, I want
to go and see father and mother.'
Can't you wnit three or four months, until I
can go with you?' asked the young husband.
'I want to go now. You said all along that I
should go in May.'
I know I did. But then I supposed that I
would be able to go with you.'
Well, why can't you I lam sure you might,
if you would.'
No, Lucy, I cannot possibly leave home now.
But if you are very anxious to see the old folks, I
can put you in the stage and you will go safe
enough. Ellen and I can take care of little Lucy,
no doubt. How long a time do you wish to spend
with them 1'
4 About three weeks, or so.'
4 Very well, Lucy, if you are not afraid to go l i
alone, I shall not gay a word.'
4 I'm not afraid, dear,' the wife said in a voice
changed and softened in its expression. 'But are
you perfectly willing to let me go, Henry l'
4 0, certainly,' was the reply, although the tone in
which the word was uttered had something of re.
luctance in it. ,It would be selfish in me to eay no.
Your father and mother will be delighted to receive
a visit just now.
' And you think that you and Ellen can gct along
with little Lucy I'
' 0 yes, very well.'
4 I should like to go so much.
'Go, then, by all means.'
'But won't you be very lonesome without me I
suggested Lucy, in whose own bosom a feeling of
loneliness was already beginning to be felt at the
bare idea of a separation from her husband
I can stand h as long as you can: was Gray's
laughing reply to this. And then I shall have our
dear little girl:
Lucy laughed in return, but did not feel as happy
al D e zaE1341e23.
at the idea of going home' •as she thought she
would be, before her husband's consent had been
gained. The desire to go, however, remaining
strong, it was finally settled that the visit shciiild be
paid. So all the preparations were made, and in
the course of a week Henry Gray saw his wife take
her seat in the stage, with a feeling of regret at par
ting which required all his efforts to conceal. As
for Lucy, when the pinch came, she regretted ever
having thought of going without her husband and
child; but she was ashamed to let her real feelings
be known. So she kept on a show of indifference,
The good-by' finally said, the driver cracked his
whip, and off rolled the stage. Gray turned home
ward with a dull, lonely feeling, and Lucy drew her
veil over her face to conceal the unbidden tears from
her fellow passengers.
That night, poor Arr. Gray slept but little. How
could he? His Lucy was absent, and for the first
time, from his side. On the next morning as ho
could think of nothing but his wife, lie sat down
and wrote to her, telling her how lost and lonely he
felt, and how much little Lucy missed her, but still
to try and enjoy herself, and by all means to write
him a letter by return of mail.
As for Mrs. Gray, during her journey of two
whole days, she cried fully half of the time, and
when she got home' at last, that is at her father's,
she looked the picture of distress, rather than the
daughter full of joy at meeting her parents.
Right glad were the old people to see their dear
child, but grived ut the same time, and a little hurt
too, at her weakness and evident regret at having
left tier husband to make them a brief visit. The
real pleasure that Lucy felt at once more seeing the
faces of her parents, she tenderly loved, was strong
enough to subdue and keep in concealment, except,
fora very short period at a time, her yearning desire
again to be with her husband, for whom she never
before experienced a feeling of such deep and ear
nest affect: 3n. Several times during the first day of
her visit, did her mother find her in tears, which she
would quickly dash aside, and then endeavor to
smile and seem cheerful.
The day after her nrrival brought her a letter—the
first she had ever received from her husband. How
precious was every word ! How often and often did
she read it over, until every lino was engraven on
her memory! Then she sat down ; and spent some
two or three hours in replying to it. As she sealed
this first epistle to her husband, full of tender 141-
Long were the hours, and wearily passed, to Hen
Gray. It was the sixth day of trial before Lucy's
answer came. How dear to his heart was every
word of her affectionate epistle! Lilco her, he
went over it so often, that every sentiment was fixed
in his mind.
4 Two weeks longer ! How can I bear it l' he
said, rising up, and pacing the floor backwards and
forwards, after reading her letter for the tenth time.
On the next day, the seventh of his lonely state,
Mr. Gray sat down again to write to Lucy. Sever
al times he wrote the words, 4 come home soon:—
but as often obliterated them. He did not wish to
appear ovor anxious for her return, on her father and
mother's account, who were much attached to her.
But forgetting this reason for urging her only re
turn, ho had commenced again writing the words,
4 Come home soon,' when a pair of soft hands were
suddenly placed over Isis eyes, by some ono who had
' stolen softly up behind him.
4 Guess my name,' said a voice in feigned tones.
But he had no need to guess, for a sudden cry of
r i joy from a little toddling thing, told that ' Mamma'
How Mamma' was hugged and kissed all round
need not be told. That scene was well enough in
its place, but would lose its interest in telling. It
may be imagined; however, without suffering any
particular detriment by all who have a fancy for
And hither too ! suddenly exclaimed Mr. Gray,
after he had almost smothered his wife with kisses,
looking up with an expression of pleasure and stir
prise, at an old man who stood looking on with his
good humored face covered with smiles.
Yes, I had to bring the good-for-nothing jade
home,' replied the old man, advancing, and grasping
his son-in-law's hand, with a hearty grip. She did
nothing but mope and cry all the while, and I don't
care if she never comes to see us again unless she
brings you along to keep her in good humor.'
And I never intend going alone again,' Mrs.
Gray said, holding a little chubby girl to her bosom,
while she kissed it over and over again, at the same
time that she pressed close up to her husband's side.
Tho old man understood it all. He was not
jealous of Lucy's affection, for he knew that she
loved him as tenderly as ever.
He was glad to know that she was happy with a
husband, to whom she was as the apple of his eye.
In about three months Lucy made another visit
home.' But hmbrj and child were along this
time, and the visit proved a happy one all around.—
Of course' father and mother' had their jest, and
their laugh, and their affection of jealousy and anger
at Lucy for hor childishness,' as they termed it,
when home in May ; but Lucy though half vexed
at herself for what she called a weakness, never
theless persevered in saying that she never meant to
go any where again without Henry. That was
No man was ever broken by adversity that was
not first betrayed by prosperity,
ZENNII AND THE WATCH.
Its some of the country parts of Scotland, a cus
tom pr.:Tails of young men giving their watches in
trust to young women for whom they have declared
their attachment. The watch is kept and carried in
the bosom of the fair one, until the anxious couple
are united in the bonds of wedlock, when, as a
matter of come, the pledge of sincerity is deliver
ed up . its original owner. This is imagined by
the country lasses to be an infinitely better plan for
securing the fidelity of a sweetheart, than that of
breaking a sixpence. A watch is a valuable and
highly prized article. It is worth at least a couple
of pounds; and the loss of that sum by an individ
ual in an humble condition of life, is a very , seriou i s l
matter. Still, we believe, there are cases id Which
the pic2osed match is broken elf, and the watch
abandoned forever; though doubtless this is only in
awes of great fickleness, or when weighty reasons
for desertion intervene.
The following laughable incident regarding
watch io entrusted, occurred a few years ago, Jenny
Symbl i gton, a well favored sprightly girl, in a certain
farmhouse in Galloway, had been entrusted with the
watch of her sweetheart, Tam Halliday, a neighbor
ing shepherd, and which she carried with scrupulous
care La her bosom ; but even the most carefully kept
article will sometimes disappear in spite of all the
precautions considered necessary to preserve them.
Jenny, be it known, was esteemed a first rate hand
at preparing potatoes for the family supper; none
could excel her in seryitlittlieln up, beaten and mash
ed in the most tempting:style. On one occasion,
in harvest, when the kitchen was crowded with a
number of shearers waiting for their evening meal,
and trlile Jenny was busy beating a mess of pota
to., what did the unlucky watch do, but drop Com
her 1 , chain, seals, and all, into the pot among
the potatoes! Jenny's head being turned away at
the moment, she knew nothing of the disaster, and
there:ire continued to beat on and en at her task.
She certainly was a little surprised when she felt
there,was still a hard potato to beat, notwithstand
ing her previous diligence; but thinking nothing of
it, she continued to beat, occasionally giving the
hard potato, alias the watch, a good thump with the
end of the beetle. At length elle thought she had
fairly completed the business; and so infusing a
large i jar of sweet milk into the mess, the stirred all
togefher, and placed the vessel ready for the attack
shearers began to stre'ch and strive. Many 'noun.
fuls had not been taken, before certain queer looks
began to he manifested. " Deil's in the tattles,"
says one, "I think they've got banes in them."—
" Banes !" says another, " they're the funniest banes
over I saw ; there're made o' broken glass and pieces
o' brass; I'll sup nee mair o' them." With that,
another produced a silver watch case, all battered
and useless, from his capacious horn spoon, and a '
universal strike among the suppers immediately en
sued. It was clear that a watch had been beaten up
with the potatoes ; so the good wife had nothing
for it but to order the disgraced pot out of the way,
and to place a basket of oatmeal cakes and milk in
What were poor Jenny's feelings during this
strange denouement'] On the first appearance of
the fragments of the watch, she slipped her hand to
her bosom, and soon found how matters stood. She
had 'he fortitude, however, to show no symptoms of
surprise; and although every ono was wondering
where the broken watch had came from, she did not
disclose her knowledge of how it had found its way
into the pot. As it had belonged to no one in the
house, the , materials were not identified, and as
Jenny was a young woman of great prudence and
modesty, and had never shown any one that she
had a watch in her possession, no ono teased her
about it. In a short time the noise of the circum
stance died away, but not till it had gone over the
neighborhood that the family had found a watch in
the potato pot; and, among others, it came to the
ears of the owner, Tam Halliday, who was highly
pleased with the conduct of his beloved Jenny; for
lie thought that if she cried or sobbed, and told to
whom the watch belonged, it would have brought
ridicule on them both. Tam was, in short, delight
ed with the way the matter had been managed, and
he thought the watch was well lost, though it had
been ten times the value.
Whatever Tam's ideas were on the subject, Jenny
felt conscious that it was her duty to replace the
watch. Accordingly, next time she met her lover,
she allowed no time to elapse before she thus ad
dresses him :—" Now, Tarn, ye ken very well hew
I have dtmolishod your good silver watch, but it is
needless to regret what eannot be helped. I shall
pay you for it, every farthing. The one half I will
give you when I get my half year's wages at Matil
mas, and the other half soon, as my brother is awn
me.three pounds, which ho has promised to pay me
afore the next Fastcm's e'en fair." "My dear Jen
ny," said the young man, taking her kindly by the
hand, " I beg you will say nothing about that ridi
culous affair. Ido not care a farthing for the loss
of the watch; mair by token, I have gotten a rise
in my wages free the new laird: for I mean tell ye,
I'm now appointed chief herd in the Ca's Hope.—
However, to take any payment from you, to rob you
of your hard won penny-fee, would be disgraceful.
No, no, I will take none of your wages; but there
is one thing I will take, if you see willing, and
which, I hope, will make us both happy for life."
' And what may that be, Tam, now that ye're tur-
ned a grand head shepherd I" I will take,' said he,
yourself; but mind I do not ask you as a recom
pense for a paltry watch ; no, in my eyes your worth
is beyond all estimation. If you will agree to be
mine, let it be done freely ; but whether you email
ling to marry me or not, from this time henceforth
the watch is never more to be spoken of.'
What followed may be easily imagined. Tam
and Jenny were married as soon an the plcnishing
for the cottage at the Ca's Hope could be prepared;
and at the wedding, the story of the watts and the
potato pot was made the topic of much hearty
mirth among the assembled company. The last
time we visited Jenny's cottage, we reminded her of
the transaction. Houle,' said she, that's an auld
'Rory now ; the laird has been sea west pleased wi'
the gudeman, that he has glen him a present o' that
eight day clock there; it costs eight pound:: in Janie
Leckie's, at the east part o' Dumfries, and there's
no the like in all the parish.'
I remember some years since to have aeon John
Randolph in Baltimore. I had frequently read and '
heard descriptions of him, and one day, as I so as
1 standing in Market, now Baltimore street, I remark
ed a tall, thin, unique looking being hurrying toward
me with a quick impatient step, evidently much an•
noyed by a crowd of boys who were following close
to his heels, not in the obstreperous mirth with 1
which they whould have followed a crazy or drun
ken man or an organ grinder and his monkey, but in
the silent, curious wonder with which they have
haunted a Chinese bedecked in full costume. I in
stantly knew the individual to be Randolph from the
description. I therefore advanced toward him that
I might make a full observation of his person with
out violating the rules of courtesy in stopping to
gaze at him. As he approached he occasionally
turned toward the boys with an angry glance, but
without saying anything, and then hurried on as if
to outstrip them ; but it would not do. They fol
lowed close on behind the orator, each one said
nothing to his companions. Just before I met him
he stopped a Mr. C., a cashier of ono of the banks,
said to be as
i odia:sh as John himself. I loitered
in a store close by, unnoticed, remarked the Roa
noke orator for considerable time, and really he was
the strangest looking being I ever beheld.
..vi -, gen t
His long thin leak about as thick as a strong
• of much such a shape, were en•
buckle, and over, them, coming about half way up
the calf, were a pair of what I believe are called
hose, and country knit. He wore shoes. They
were old fashioned and fastened only with buckles,
huge ones. He trod like an Indian, without turn
ing his toes out, but planking them down straight
ahead. It was the fashion in those days to wear a
fan-tailed coat with a small collar and the buttons
far apart behind, and a few on the breast. Mr. Ran
dolph's were the reverse of all this, and instead of
his coat being fan-tailed it was what we believe the
knights of the needle call swallow-tailed; the collar
was irame.nsely large, the buttons behind were in
kissing proximity, and they sat together as close on
the breast as the feasters ata crowded public festival.
His waste was remarkably slender—so slender that,
as he stood with his arms akimbo he could easily,
as I thought, with his long bony fingers, have !man
ed it. Around him his coat, which was very tight,
was held together by one button, and in consequence,
an inch or more of tape to which it was attached
was perceptible where it was pulled through the
cloth. About his neck he wore a large white cravat
in which his chin was occasionally buried, as ho
moved his head in conversation; no shirt collar was
preceptible ; every other person seemed to pride
himself upon the size of his, as they were worn
large. Mr. Randolph'i complexion was precisely
that of a mummy, withered, saffron, dry and blood
less; you could not have placed a pin's point upon
his thee where you would not have touched a wrin
kle. His lips were thin, compressed and colorless,
the chin, beardless as a boy's was broad for the size
of his face, which was small; his nose was straight,
with nothing remarkable in it, except that it was too
short. He wore a fur cap, which he took off, stand
ing a few minutes uncovered. I observed that his
heed was quite small, a characteristic which is mid
to have marked many men of talent—Byron and
Chief Justice Marshall, for instance.
LAZINESS'-The laziest man we ever heard of
was described as follows, to a friend of our by an
old lady in Cowcta county, Ga.
" Perhaps you don't know Zeke Gibbons, what
lived down here on West Fork; well, he was the
laziest man you ever heard tell of. When he and
his wife got married they had a pretty good chance
of truck between 'tn. But Zeke was too lazy to
make crops, and so everything went to rack and
ruin. Zeltes wife was a right smart 'omnn no she
told him one day he'd got to work."
" Can't you plough I"—says ehe. a bon% know
how," says 'Lek°. " Well, I'll show you," so she
geared up the hoes, and took Zcke and led him to it,
and put his hands on the plough-handle, and do
you think the lazy critter didn't stand there without
stirring en inch till the rpm. eat all hie coat tail
What is the chief end of roan'!" inquirerl
school teacher of a pretty miss.
Why, I suppc,e it is to pop the Nation."
The right of Visit and d search.
Mr. T—, one of the deputy sheriffs, of man
ner, most polite and of bearing most gallant, called
yesterday at a house, (soya the New Orleans Pic
cayune,) in execution of his duty, where he met on
amiable and interesting young lady.
I am come madam,' said the organ of the law,
calmly raising his hat from his head, and making at
the same time, a gentle inclination of the body—
' I am come, madam, to pay you a visit !'
' Sir,' said the lady, 'you are welcome. Pray be
seated. To whom, may I ask. am I indebted fir
this unexpected act of courtesy
Why, the fact is, madam,' said the deputy, ' I
have an attachment for certain articles of property;
which I have reason to believe are secreted in this
house, and for which I feel bound to make a morel,:
Really, sir,' said the lady, ' from your manner
when you first entered, I had imagined it was fur
myself you had the attachment, and I therefbre bade
you welcome. I must new tell you, however, that
though in favor of the right of vie-i, I am decidedly
opposed to the right of search, so with your permis
' sion I will show you to the door.
Mr. T—, had too much native gallantry it, him
to offer any opposition to the will of an pretty a lady,
so putting hie gray castor on what phrenologists call
the chamber of the brain, he bade this female fol
lower of the Cass policy a 'very good morning,'
A New MM.-The Baltimore Clipper states
that " a few evenings since, a woman went to the
museum, carrying a child about a year old—the
child fell asleep, and its anxious mother covered it
with her chow!. Shortly after it began to cry, and
the mother soothed it for a moment, when it began
to cry louder—the more she coaxed and patted, the
louder it screamed. She raised the shawl, when, to
her astonishment, the infant was sleeping as calmly
as if it was made of wax. No sooner had she cor•.
ered it again, when it began to yell ten times as loud.
Up started the confused end astonished mother ,
when the child squealed like apig ; down dropped
the child on the floor, who began to Cry in earnest,
much to the astonishment of those around her. It
was Wrotaa the ventriloquist, playing off one of
his pranks, who begged the woman's pardon for the
fright he had puther in, which was readily granted,
amidst a roar of laughter when the hoax was ex ,
from between his teeth, leaving his
was met by a gentleman in Natchez, in the middle
of the street, of whom he inquirel in a whinning
Have yon seen anything of daddy r
No,' replied the gentleman.
Well, now, demotion wire daddy, I told him
he'd lose me !' said our hero, crying as he proceed
ed, as if his heart would break, and sticking the
gingerbread into his countenance at a most alarm
One gloomy day, in the month of December, a
good-humored Irishman applied to a merchant to
discount a bill of exchange for him at rather a long,
though not an unusual date; and the merchant has
ing casually remarked that the bill had a good many
days to run. That's true,' replied the Littman,
but, then, my honey, you don't consider how short
the days are et this time of the year.'
A GRAIN of carmine will tinge a gallon of water,
so that in ovary drop the color will be prceeptible,
and a grain of musk will scent a room for twenty
years. Just so, if a man cheats the printer ; the
stain will be forever vi.iblo on the minutest atom of
a minute soul, and will Icave a scent of rascality
about an individual strong enough to make an hon
ed man turn up his nose in disgust, and kick him
out of his presence, if ho can't get rid of him in
any other ;node.—Spirit of the Times.
DON'T BELIE FE
That hot whiskey punch cures a cold.
That printers arc rich.
That wine cures the gout:
That love ever killed a marl.
That an old baChelor is happy.
That a widow dislikes a second marriage.
That a lady means yes" when she says no:'
tar ser, my dear, stand up and let the gentlemen
ace what you have learned at school. What does
c-h-a-k spell"! I don't know mum." " Why you
ignorant critter, what do you always sit on I "Oh
mann, I won't tell!" " Won't tell! why what up
on earth is the matter with the gall Speak. I tel
you." "Oh! 1 didn't think you know'd it—it was
Dill Cross knee—but he never kimied me but
twice!" " Aarthquakes ! I shall faint !.
He that clothes the poor, clothes his own soul.
He that sweetens the cup of affliction sweetene
own heart. lie that feeds the hungfy, spreads out
a banquet for himself snore Sweet and refreshing
than luxury can bestow.
Never trust a married man with a recret who
loves his wife, for he will tell her—and the will
tell her sinter—and her sister will toll cvery body
end any body.
Crafty men conclemn studies, simple mcn admire
and vial men use them•