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no - TO INVALIPS—Ea
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CURE OF A CANCEROUS SORE.
SING SING, January 21, 180,
DR. BENJAInIN BRANDRETII:
Honored Sir,—
Owing to you a debt of gratitude that mo
ney cannot pay. I sin induced to make a
public acknowledgment of the benefit my
wife has derived from your invaluable Pills.
About three years this winter she was.taken
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degree, and in thiee weeks from its first
commencing it became a running sore. She
could get no rest at night the pain was so
great. Our first doctor attended her for six
months, and she received no benefit what
ever, the pain growing worse and the sore
larger all the time. He said if it was healed
up it would be her death, but he appeared
to be at a loss how to proceed, and my poor
wife still continued to suffer the most terrible
tortures. We therefore sought other aid,
,in a Botannical doctor, who said when he
.1 first saw it that he could soon cure the sore
TielatiVeno—Felid,Wfilf aciaioifitrigtlatelke,
it quite baffled all his skill.
Thus we felt atter having tried during one
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imation began to cease so that she felt quite
easy, and would sleep comfortable, and sir,
sifter six weeks' use she was able to go thro'
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two months from the time she first commen
ced the use of your invaluable Pills her ancle
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tore.be
a send you this statement atter two
Nears test ot the cure, considering it only an
6. , ct ( Apt:ice to you and the public et large.
NV e are viith much gratitude,
Vey espectfully,
T iro I'HY & ELIZA A. LITTLE.
h 5,.. he Botanical Doctor pronounced
the so rCancerous, and finally said no good
\,70 - iitilone, unless the whole of the flesh
',,, as ~, f f and the bone scraped. Thank a
kind %knee, this made us resort to your
1,y11., tech saved us from all further mis
, 0 1, lfor which we hope to be thankful.
T. &E. A. L.
1 t
n andrah's Pills are for sale by the
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es Green &Co. Barree Forge, '
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rve each of Dr. Bredreth's Agents
n engraved certificate of Agency.—
ne this and you will liind the NEW
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me on the Boxes, none other are gen
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'a. Office S. North Bth St.—ly.
ilLlPabczoaD co so oallas
ILL be received up to the 25th day of
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untingdon Congregation of the Preshyte-
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rch in the borough of Huntingdon.
plan and specifications will be exhibited
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I and William Dorris at any time after
Ist day of December next, to whom also
s can be dJOHNirected.
KER,
JNO. G. MILES.
THOMAS FISHER,
! JNO. C R ESSWELL,
JNO. GLAZIER, .
1 GEORGE TAYLOR,
THOS. P. CAMPRELT,
islov. 1, 1843. Trustees.
`2 4 . 11. C2111111112M0
TTORMEr JIT Lan:
RUNTINGDON,PA ,
aUUTEZ' , tZ , ZIZ3a3!U;)(/)1.1,, aaaldeksl3.
POMTP.W.
Christ Walking on the Sea.
Fear not—it is L"
In the dark hours, when the shades of night
Had gathered gloomily upon the wave,
And the huge billows' snowy-crested light,
Btit seemed as torches pointing to the grave,
While the loud surge, which beat against the shore,
Gave utterance to its hoarse voice in the blast,
The weary mariners still plied the oar,
Though lost the hope, to reach the shore at last.
Yet toiling on, they watched in wild despair
The waters, dashing by, in horrid glee,
While their loud shrieks, which rent the troubled air,
Were lost amidst the roaring of the sea;
As thus they gazed-- , ere the fourth watch was past,
Each cheek was blanched anew with awful dread,
For, midst the angry howling of the blast,
They saw a shadowy form the waters tread.
As yet it nearer drew, a softened light
Shone o'er the brow, and round the angelic head,
And through the storming of that fearful night,
They heard his voice , 'Tis I, be not afraid.'
If it be thou, bid me come unto thee !'
One doubting said, who on the frail ship stood;
And Jesus answered, Come,' and on the sea
He walked, and safely trod the opposing flood..
But when he saw around,•wave piled on wave,
His fears o'ercamo him and ho, sinking, cried,
'Lord, save mo, or I perish,' and Christ gave
His hand, and raised him to the vessel's side.
So thou, my soul, in the dark hour of doubt,
Shalt to thy God for help and mercy turn,
Roll back the waves that compass thee about
And from his succor, faith's sweet lesson learn.
From the Knickerbocker for July.
Forget-Me-Not.
There is a flower, a lovely flower,
Tinged deep with Faith's unchanging hue;
Pure as the ether in its hour •
Of loveliest and sincerest blue.
The streamlet's gentle side it seeks,
The silent fount, the shaded grot,
And sweetly to the heart it speaks,
Forget-me-not! forget-me-not!
Mild as the azure of thine eyes,
Soft as the halo beam shove,
In tender whispers still it sighs,
Forget-me-not, my life, my love !
There where thy lest steps turned away,
Wet eyes shall watch the sacred spot,
And this sweet flower be heard to say,
Forget ! alt no ! forget-me-not !
Yet deep its azure leaves within
Ada vnittittnfi.`hatet. b hcg luau ucert,
The drooping stern may well declare.
The dew-drops on its leaves aro tears,
That ask, Am I so soon forgot l'
Repeating still amidst their fears,
My life, my love! forget-me-not.
Song.
If thou halt crushed a flower,
The root may not be blighted ;
If thou host quenched a lamp,
Once more it may be lighted ;
But on thy harp or on thy lute,
The string which thou host broken,
Shall never in sweet sound again
Give to thy touch a token.
If thou bast loosed a bird,
Whose voice of song would cheer thee,
Still, still he may be won
From the skies to warble near thee;
But if upon the troubled sea,
Thou hoot thrown a gem unheeded,
Hope not that wind or wave shall bring
The treasure back when needed.
If thou hest bruised a vine,
The summer's breath is healing,
And its clusters yet may glow,
Through the leaves their bloom revealing.
But if thou hast a cup o'erthrown
With a bright draft filled—oh never
Shall earth give back the lavished wealth
To cool thy parched lip's fever.
Thy heart is like that cap,
If thou waste the love it bore thee,
And like that jewel gone,
Which the deep will not restore thee;
And like that string of harp or lute,
Whence the sweet sound is scattered,
Gently, oh ! gently touch the chords
So soon for ever shattered.
Lines.
Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth
for you."—lst PETER, 5 C. 7 V.
Child of sorrow, mourning one,
Thou whose light of life is gone ;
Thou who weepest, sad and lonely,
In whose heart dwells sorrow only;
Deepest darkness hovering o'er thee,
Nought but agony betel.° thee ;
Thou whose brightest hope is death,
Thou who pin'st to yield thy breath ;
Thou from whom cold worldlings turn,
Leaving thee alone to mourn ;
There is One for thee who carcth,
Even though thy soul despaireth.
Ho is near while thou art sleeping,
He is nigh while thou art weeping;
He has marked thy every sigh,
Breathed when none beside was nigh ;
Great is He in majesty,
Yet He stoops to care for thee.
Cast upon Him all thy cares,
Breathe to Hint perpetual prayers,
He will never turn away,
He will hear all thou canst say,
Ho can view thine inmost heart,
He can know thee as thou art.
Thoughts by mortals all unseen,
Hidden by a calm cold mien;
Sufferings which thy spirit rend,
He can view and comprehend ;
He can feel, how tenderly !
Child of misery, for thee.
Como, then, to thy Father, God,
He can stay the chastening rod ;
Cast thy cares and fears before Him,
And for help and peace implore Him;
To Hit love for refuge flee,
. Child of tears, He cares for thee.
NLICOMIaLAIIMOVEL
• From. the New 4117rror.
THE MARQUIS IN PETTICOATS.
I iun commanded to write a love story.
But a love story with anything new in it can
never be invented. Fact is the jack-o'-lantern to
more sober Fable. Truth is stranger than fiction.
And I have not much space to tell a story in ;
and, long or short, it must have beginning, and
middle,.and end. So I introduce you at once to the
Marquis de la Chetardie—a diplomatist who figured
largely in the gay ago of Louis XV.—and the story
is but one of the illuminated pages of the dark book
of diplomacy.
Chides de la Chetardie—appeared for the first
time to the eyes of 'the king at a masquerade ball,
given at• Versailles, under the auspices of lit belle
Pompadour. He was dressed m a young lady of
high rank, making her debut and so perfect was
his acting, and the deception altogether, that Louis
became enamoured of the disguised marquis, and
violently excited the jealousy of it Madame" by his
amorous attentions. Au eelaireissment, of course,
took place, and the result was a great partiality for
the marquis' society, and his subsequent employ
ment, in and outof petticoats, in many a scheme Of
state diplomacy and royal amusement.
La Chetadie was at this time just eighteen.—
He was very slight, and had remarkably small hands
and feet, and the radiant fairness of his skin, and tho
luxuriant softness of his profuse chesnnt curls,
might justly have been the envy of the most deli=
cate woman. Ho was at first subjected to some ri
dicule for his effeminacy, but the merry courtiers
were soon "made aware, that under this velvet fra
gility lay concealed the strength and ferocity of the
tiger. The grasp of his small hand was like an
iron vice, and his singular activity, and his cool
courage which afterwards gave him a brilliant ca
reer on the battle-field, established him in a very
short time, as the most formidable swordsman of
the court. - His ferocity however, lay deeply , eon
mated in his character, and unprovoked, he was the
gayest and most brilliant of merry companions.
This was the age of occult and treacherous diplo
macy, and the court of Russia, where Louis would
fain have exercised an influence, (private as well
as political in its results,) was guarded by an impla
cable Argus, in the person of the _prime minister.
English Ambassador, one of the craftiest men of
that crafty period, he had succeeded for some years
in defeating every attempt ut success to the impe
rial ear by the secret emissaries of France. The
sudden appearance of La Chetardie, his cool self
command, and his successful personation of a fe
male, suggested a new hope to the king however;
and called to Versailles by the royal mandate, the
young marquis was taken into cabinet confidence,
and a secret mission to St. Petersburgh, in pan
comfit, proposed to him and accepted.
With his instructions and secret despatches
stitched into his corsets, and under the ostensible
protection of a scientific man, who was to present •
him to the tzarine as a Madomiselle de Beaumont,
desirous of entertaining the service of Elizabeth,
the marquis reached St. Petersburg without acci
dent or adventure. The young lady's guardian re
quested an audience through Bestuchefl; and hav
ing delivered the open letters, recommending her
for her accomplishments to the imperial protection,
he begged leave to continue on his scientific tour to
the central regions of Russia.
Cove was immediately granted, and on the dis
appearance of the eavant, and before the departure
of Bestucheff, the tzarine threw off all ceremony,
and pinching the checks and imprinting a kiss on
the forehead of the beautiful stranger, appointed
her, by one of those sudden whims of preference,
against which her ministers had so much trouble to
guard, tectrice intime et purticuliere—in short con
fidential personal attendant. Tito blushes of the
confused marquis, who was unprepared for so affec
tionate a reception, served rather to heighten the
disguise, and old Bestucheff bowed himself out
with a compliment to the beauty of Mademoiselle
do Beaumont, veiled in a diplomatic congratulation
to lier imperial mistress.
Elizabeth was forty, and a little passe, but she I
had pretensions, and was particularly fond of beauty
in her attendants, female as well as male. Her fa.
vorite, of her personal suite, at the time of the
ar
rival of the marquis, was an exquisite little creature
who had been sent to her as a compliMent to this
particular taste, by the Duchess of Mecklenberg-
Strelitz—a kind of German " Pendia," or " Mig
non, by the name of Nudge Stein. Nat much be
low the middle size, Nudge was a model of sym
metrical proportion, and of very extraordinary beau
ty. She had been carefully educated for her pre
sent situation, and was highly accomplished; a tine
reader, and singularly sweet musician and dancer.
The tzarine's passion for this lovely attendant was
the arrival of a new favorite of the same sex, was
looked upon with some pleasure by the eclipsed
remainder of the palace idlers.
Elizabeth summoned Nudge, committed Madem
oiselle do Beaumont temporarily to her charge; but
the same mysterious magnetism which had reached
the heart of the tzarina, seemed to kindle quite as
promptly tiro affections of her attendant. Nudge
was no sooner alone with her new friend than she
jumped to her neck, smothered her with kisses, cal
led her by every endearing epithet, and overwhelm
ed her with questions, mingled with the most child
like exclamations of wonder at her own inexplicable
love fur a stranger. In an hour she had shown to
I the new demoiselle all the contents of the little
boudoir in which she lived; talked to her of her
loves and hates at the Russian court ; of her home
in Mecklenberg, and her present situation ; in short,
poured out her heart with the naif abandon of a'
child. The young marquis had never seen on love
ly a creature ; and responsibly as he felt Ins difficult
and dangerous situation, he returned the affection
so innocently lavished upon him, and at the end of
this first fatal hour, was irrecovembly in love. And,
gay as his life had been at the French court, it was
the first, and subsequently proved to be the deepest
passion of his life.
On the tzarine's return to her - private apartment,
site summoned her new favorite, and superintended,
with condescending solicitude, the arrangements for
her palace lodging. Nudge inhabited a small tower
adjoining the bedroom of her mistress, and above
this was an unoccupied room, which, at the present
suggestion of the fairy little attendant, was allotted
to the new. comer. The staircase opened by one
door into the private gardens, and by the opposite,
into the corridor leading immediately into the im
perial chamber. Tito marquis' delicacy would fain
hove made some objection to this very intimate lo
cation; but lie could hazard nothing against the
interests of his sovereign, 'iind he trusted to a spec
dy termination of his disguise with the attainment
of his object. Meantime, the close neighborhood
of the fair Nadgo was not the most intolerable of
The marquis' task was a very difficult one. He
was instructed, before abandoning his disguise and
delivering his secret despatches, to awaken the in
terest of the tzarine on the two subjects to which
the document had reference, viz: a former partiality
of her majesty for Louis, and a formerly discussed
project of seating the Prince do Conti on the throne
.1* Poland. Bestucheff had so long succeeded in
cuttingoff all approach of these topics to the ear of
the tzarine, that her majesty had probably forgotten
them altogthcr. •
Weeks passed, and the opportunities to broach
these delicate subjects had been inauspiciously rare.
Mademoiselle de Beaumont, it is true, had complete
ly eclipsed the favorite Nadge; and Elizabeth, in
her'hours of relaxation from state affairs, exacted
the constant attendance of the new favorite in her
private aparttnents. But the almost constant pre
sence of soms other of the molds of honor, oppos
e l it obstacles and interruptions, and the
matters more serious than the common trifles of the
hour. She was extremely indolent in her personal
habits ; and often reclining at lenglit upon cushions
on the floor of her boudoir, site laid her imperial
head in the lap of the embarrassed demoiselle, and
was soothed to sleep by reading and the bathing of
hor temples. And during this period, she exacted
frequently of the marquis, with a kind of instinctive
mistrust, promises of continuance for life in her
personal service.
But there were sweeter hours for the enamoured
La Chetardie than those passed in the presence of
his partial and imperial mistress. Encircled by
sentinels, and guarded from all intrusion of other
eyes, in the inviolable sanctuary of royalty, the
beautiful Nudge, impassioned and she knew not
why, in lice love for her new companion, was ever
within call, and happy in devoting to him all her
powers of caressing endearment. He had not yet
dared to risk the interest of his sovereign by a dis
closure of his sex, even in the confidence of love.
He could not trust Nadge to play so difficult a part,
as that of possessor of so embarrassing a secret in
the presence of the shrewd and observing tzarine.
A betrayal, too, would at once put an end to Iris
happiness. With the slight arm of the fair and
relying creature about his waist, auditor head pres
sed close against his breast, they passed the balmy
nights of the Russian summer in pacing the flowe
ry alleys of the imperial garden, discoursing with
but ono reserve, on every subject that floated to
their lips. It required, however, all the self-control
of La Chetardie, and all the favorite darkness of
the night, to conceal his smiles at the native con
fessions of the unconscious girl, and her wonderings
at the peculiarity of hor feelings. She had thought,
hithertoo, that there were affectiens in her nature
which could only be called forth by a lover. Yet
now, the thought of caressing another than her
friend—of repenting to any human ear, least of all
to a man, those new-born vows of love, filled her
with alarm and horror. She felt that she had given
her heart away—and to a woman ! Ah, with what
delirious, though silent passion, La Chetardie drew
her to his bosom, and, with the pressure of his lips
upon hers, interrupted those sweet confessions I
Yet the time at last drew near for the waking
front the celestial dream. The disguised diploma
tist had found his opportunity, and had successfully
awakened in Elizabeth's mind both curiosity and
interest as to the subjects of the despatahes still
sewed safely in his corsets. There remained no
thing for him nosy but to seize a favorable opportu
nity, and, with Can delivery of his missives, to de
clare his sex to the tzarine. There was risk to life
and liberty in this, but the marquis knew not fear,
and he thought but of its consequences to his love.
In La Chetardie's last interview with the savant
who conducted him to Russia, his male attire had
been successfully transferred from one portmanteatt
to the other, and it was now in his possession, ready
for the moment of need. With his plans brought
to within a single night of the denouement, ho
parted from the tzarine, having asked rho imperial
permission for an hour's private interview on the
morrow, and, with gentle force excluding Nadge
from the apartment. lie dressed himself in his pro-
per costume, and cut open the warm envelope of
his despatches. Thisdone, he threw his cloak over
hint, and with a dark lantern in his hand, sought
Nadge in the garden. He had determined to dis
close himself to her, renew his vows of love in his
proper guise, and arrange, while ho too ttecess and
opportunity, some means of uniting their destinies
hereafter.
As he opened the door of the turret, Nadgo flew
up the stairs to meet him, and observing the cloak
in the faint glimmer of the stars, she playfully en
deavored to envelope herself in it. But seising her
hands, La Chetardie turned and glided liackwards,
drawing her after him towards a small pavilion in
the remoter part of the garden. nett they had
never been interrupted, the empress alone having
the power to intrude upon them, and La Chetardie
felt safe on devoting this place and time to the dou
ble disclosure of his secret and his suppressed pas
sion.
Persuading her with difficulty to desist . from put
ting her arms about him, and sit down without a
caress, he retreated a few steps, and, in Ilse darkness
of the pavilion, shook down his imprisoned locks to
their masculine abandon, threw of his cloak and
drew up the blind of his lantern. The scream of
surprise which instantly parted from the lips of
Nadge, made him regret his imprudence is not hav
ing prepared her for the transforntopon, but the se
cond thought was mirth, for she believed it of course
to be nothing but a playful masquerade; and with
delighted laughter she sprang to his neck and over
whelmed him with kisses—another voice, however,
,joined very unexpectedly in the laughter!
The empress stood before them !
For an instant, with all his self possession. La
Chetardie was confounded and dismayed. Siberia,
the knout, the scaffold flitted before his eyes, and
Nadge was the sufferer. But a glance at the face
of the tzarine reassured him, she, too, took it for a
girlish masquerade!
But the empress unfortunately was not disposed
to have a partner in her enjoyment of the society
of this new apparition of , 4 hose and doublet." She
ordered Nudge to her turret with one of those pe
tulent commands which her attendants understood
to admit of no delay, and while the eclipsed favor.
ite disappeared with the tears of unwilling submis
sion in her soft eyes, La Chetardio looked at her
with the anguish of eternal separation at his heart,
foe n nroconti mord. ornmulo.l tramictahht limns him
The empress was in slippers and robe de 7'lo,
and, as if fate had determined that this well-kept
secret should not survive the hoer, laid her ann
within that of her supposed masquerader, and led
the way to the palace. She was wakeful, and
wished to be read to sleep. And, with many a
compliment to the beauty of her favorite in male
attire; and many a playful caress, she arrived at the
door of her chamber.
But the marquis could go no further. He had
hitherto been spared the embarrassment of passing
this secret threshold, for the paesee empress had
secrets of toilette for the embellishment of her per
son, which •she trusted only to the eyes of an anti_
quoted attendant. La Chetradie had never passed
beyond the boudoir which was between the ante
chamber and the bed room, and the thee had come
for the disclosure of the secret. He fell on his knees
and announced himself a man !
Fortunately they were alone, Incredulous at
first the empress listened to his asseverations, how
ever, with more amusement than displeasure, and
the immediate delivery of the despatches, with the
commendations of the disguised embassador by his
royal master to the forgiveness and kindness of the
empress, amply secured his panlon. But it was on
condition that he should resume his disguise and
remain in her service.
Atone in his tower, (for Nadge had disappeared,
and ho know enough of the cruelty of Elizabeth to
dread the consequences to the poor girl for venturing
on direct inquiries as to her fate,) La Chetradie after a
few weeks fell ill ; and fortunate, even at this price,
to escape from the silken fetters of the enamored
tzarine, ho departed under the care of the impe
rial physician, for the more genial climate of France
—not without reiterated promises of return, how
, ever, and offers, in that event, of unlimited wealth
and advancement.
But, as the marquis made his way slowly to
ward Vienna, a gleam of light dawned on his sad
ness.' The Princess Sophia Charlotte was newly
affianced to George the Third of England, and this
daughter of the house of Mecklenburg had been the
playmate of Nudge Stein ; from infancy till the time
when Nudge was sent to the tzarine by the Duchess
of Mecklenburg. Making a confident of the kind
physician who accompanied him, La Chetrudie
was confirmed by the good man's better experience
and knowledge, in the belief that Nudge had shared
the same fate of every female of the court who had
ever awakened the jealously of the empress. She
was doubtless exiled to Siberia; but as she had
committed no voluntary fault, it was probably with
out other punishment; and, with a playmate on the
throne of England, she might be demanded and
r covered ere long, in all her freshness and beauty.
Yet the recent fate of the fair Eudoxio I,apoukin,
who, for an offence but little more distasteful to the
twine, had been pierced through the tongue with a
hot iron, whipped with the knout, and exiled for life
to Siberia, hung like a cloud of coil augury over
Iris mind.
The marquis suddenly determined that he would
see the affianced princess, and plead with her for he r
friend, before the splendors of a throne should make
gctiQraa CID Llap s:Tga). gala.
her inacceasible. The excitement of this hope had
given him new life, and he easily persuaded his at
tendant, as they entered the gates of Vienna, that
he required his attendance no farther. Alone with
his own servants, he resumed his female attire, and
directed his eoterse to Mecklenberg-Strelitz.
The princess had maintained an intimate corres
pondenca with her playmate np to the time of her
bethothal, and the nade of Mademoiselle de Beau-.
mont was passport enough. La Chetardie had
sent forward his servant on arriving at the town, in
the neighborhood of the ducal residence, end Ote
reply to his missive was brocght hack by one of the
officers in attendance, with orders to conduct the
demoiselle to apartsments in the cast',
He was received with all honor at the palacegate
by a chamberlain in waiting, who led the way to a
snit of rooms adjoining those of the princess, where,
after being left alone for a few minutes, he was fa
miliarly visited by the bethrothed girl, and over
whelmed, as formerly by her friend, with most
embarrassing caresses. In the next moment, how
ever, the door was hastily flung open, and Nadge,
like a stracm of light, fled though the room, hung
upon the neck of the speechless and overjoyed mar
quis, and ended with convulsiorrs of mingled tears
and laughter. The moment he conld disengage
himself front her arms, La Chetradie requested to
be left for a moment alone. He felt the danger and
impropriety Eof longer maintaining his disguise.—
He closed his door on the unwilling demoiselle,
hastily changed his dress, and with his sword at his
side, entered the adjoining reception room of the
princess, where Mademoiselle de Beaumont wee
impatiently awaited.
The scene which followed, the mingled confusion
and joy of Nadge, the subsequent hilarity and mas
querading of the castle and the particulars of the
marriage of the Marquis do Is Chetanlie to his fair
fellow maid of honor, must be left to the reader's
imagination. We have room only to explain the
re-appearance of Nadge at Mecklenherg.
Nudge retired to her turret at the imperative corn
mend of the empress, sad and troubled ; but waited
wakefully and anxiously for the re-enterance of her
disguised companion. In the course of an hour,
however, the sound of a sentinel's musket, set down
at her door, infortned her that she was s prisoner.—
She knew Elizabeth, and the Dutcliess of Mecklen
berg, with an equal knowledge of the tzarine's char
acter, had provided her with a resource against the
.1,, he nreRRIOR. Wine it.
a handkerchief to the side looking over the public
square.
The following morning at daylight, Nudge was
summoned to prepare for the journey, and in an
hour, she was led between soldiers to a carriage at
the palace gate, and departed by the southern egress
of the city, with a guard of three cossacks, In two
hours from that time, the carriage woo overtaken, the
guard overpowered, and the horse's heads turned in
the direction of Memow. After many difficultiea
and dangers, during which she found herself under
the charge of a Mecklenbergian officer in the ser
vice of the tzanne, she reached Vienna in safety, and
was immediately concealed by her friends in this
neighborhood of the palace of Meeklenberg, to Te
-1 main hidden until inquiry should be over. The
arrival of Mademoiselle do Beaumont, for the loss of
whose life or liberty she had incessantly wept with
dread and apprehension, was joyfully comm}mica•
ted to her by her friends, and so the reader knows
some of the passages in the early life of thelar-Earned
beauty in the French court, and in the time of Louis
XV—the Marchoiness de la Chetardie,
Eyes like the blue of Damascus blade, and hair
like a shower of braided and flouring sunbeams ! I
have done yourbidding ! Adieu! N. P. W.
RECIPE von A Goon WIFE.-A good wife should
be like three things, which three things she should
not be like : I. She should he liken snail, always
kept within her house; but she should not be like
a snail, miry all she has upon her back. 2. She
should be like on echo, always speak when spoken
to ; but she should not be like an echo, have always
the last word. 2. She should he like a town clock,
always keep time and regularity; but she should
not be like a town chick, speak so loud that all the
town may hear her.
Lament.-
0, ven the stars are ehinin'. ICute,
Some risin', others spun'',
And all are winkin' so fust rate,
Like chaps I've seen a bettin' i
0, then I'm thinkin' on my fate,
Which sets my eyes a wettin I
NOT VERT PAUTITCLATI...-A young Ohin gen.
tleman once asked a lady if he could have the plea•
sure of waiting on her. To which she drily an
swered, 44 I don't thank you for your company, air,
Well,' said he, 4 I didn't expect any thanks, and so
I'll just go along any how."
"Ohl what a fall was there my countrymen"
when you, and I, and all of us, fell down, while
bloody Tees-on flourished o'er us," as the man said
when a syeatnoro tree fell on hint, and "blooded
his nose."
(Os. Cnn it be possible, Tom, that you've a shirt
collar on at last! It certainly must belong to
somebody else."
"No," replied Tom, gravely—. it belongs to tho
shirt."
ccr "1 , 11 try another bit," no the jccby said when
his horse ran away with him.