!IClEPNVOimeelwrsierlct lermievrusecmosim T I l c 9 A_ -14 - SN ffantitg Setutipaper—Debotett to Sentra ilintelttsente, Ottrbertfoinn, Volitico, /Literature, faoratttg, arto, Aciencto, Nartculturt,2lmllmtotent, Szt., szt. * Q7 4 CCDno q CID . a cE).. ruinous. ar THEODORE H. CREMER. *- • The 4 .JoverrAr." will be published every Wed nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance, and if not paid within six months, $2 50. No subscription received for a shorter period than tix month., nor any paper discontinued till all er 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 to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. POETRY. "To charm the languid hours of solitude, He oft invites her to tho Muses lore." Tat LAST MAN. UT THOMAS CAMPBELL, ESQ.. All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of time! I saw the last of human mould, b , That shall Creation's death behold, A. Adam saw her prime ! The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan, 'rho skeletons of nations were Around that lonely man! Some had expired in fight,—the brands Still rusted in their bony hands; In plague and famine some : Earth's cities had no sound nor tread; And ships were drifting with the dead To shore. where all was dumb! Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood . As if a storm passed by, Saying, We're twins in death, proud Sun, Thy face is cold, thy race is run, "l'is mercy bids thee go; For thou ten thousand thousand years Haat seen the tide of human tears, That shall no longer flow. What though beneath thee man put forth His pomp, his pride, his skill ; And arts that made fire, flood and earth The v Is of his will; Yet me,-not thy parted sway, Thou dim du:crowned king of day : For all those trophied arts And triumphs that beneath thee sprang, Heald not a passion or a pang Entailed on human hearts. Go—let oblivion's curtain full Upon the stage of men, Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again. Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to write; Stretch'd in diseases shapes abhored, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneate the scythe. Ev'n I km weary in yon skies To watch thy fading fire, Test of all sumlees agonies, Behold not me expire. My lips that speak thy dirge of death— Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath To see thou shalt not boast: The eclipse of Nature spreads any pall,— The majesty of Darkness shall Receive my parting ghost, This spirit shall return to Him That gave its heavely spark ; Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim When thou thyself art dark! No! it shall live again, and shine In bliss unknown to beams of thine; By Him recalled to breath, Who captive led captivity, Who robbed the grave of victory,— And took the sting from Death ! Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up On Nature's awful waste, To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief that man shall taste— , Go, tell the night that hides thy face, • Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race, On Earth's sepulchral clod, The dark'sting universe defy To quench his immortality, Or shake his trust in God! From Nears Gazelle. FOR AN ALBUM. DT OEORGE BROOMS, For thee may ever blooming Spring New scenes of joy prepare, And every changing moment bring Fresh roses for thy hair. Or thought of ill or worldly care Ne'or may thy bosom know, T:tose laughing eyes nc'er drop a tear But for another's woe. May peace thy footsteps still attend, When past thy youthful hours. Nor age steal on without a friend To strew thy path with flowers. And when the allotted years have sped By bounteous nature given, May angels watch around thy bed To point thy way to Heaven! Tea Bon wtz.,—.The greatest touch of the sub lime we have lately aeon is contained in the follow ing stanza: There Mb a man in our town, That got into a steeple, And filled a warming pan with grog, And throwed it on the people." ca Wonder if there was sugar in it 1 LPmc. o aZ)9 ICIOCZ:iI4.6.II"ZOtt, Prom Me Larks' National Magazine. THE BORDERER'S CHILD; OR WASHINGTON AT EIGHTEEN. It was a calm, sunny day in the year 1750 ; the scene a piece of land on the Northern Neck of Vir ginia, contiguous to a noble stream of water. Im pliments of surveying were lying about, and several men idly reclining under the trees, betokened by their dress and appearance that they composed a party engaged in layng out the wild lands of the frontier of the Old Dominion. These persons had apparently just finished their noontide meal, for the relics of the banquet were scattered around. Apart from the group walked a young man, evi dently superior to his companions, though there was nothing obtrusive in his air, which, on the con trary, was distinguished by affability. A certain dignity of aspect, however, accompanied him.-- Added to this he was of a tall and compact frame, and moved with the elastic tread of one accustomed to constant exercise in the open air. Ii is counte nance could not have been said to be handsome, but it wore a look of decision and manliness, not usual ly found in one so young, for apparently he was still little over 18 years of age. His hat had been cast off, as if for comfort, and he had paused, with i .one foot advanced, in a natural and graceful - attitude at the moment that we have introduced him to our reader. Suddenly their Was a - shriek, then another, and several in rapid succession. The voice was that of a woman, and seemed to proceed from the other side of a dense thicket. At the first scream the youth turned his head in the direction whence the sound proceeded, but when it was repeated he dash ed aside the undergrowth which separated him from it, and quickening his footsteps as the cries succee ded each other with alarming rapidity, he soon dashed into an open space or „ clearing," as the borderers even then called it, on:the bank of the stream, in the centre of which a rude log-cabin stood, whose well-pole poised over one end, and smoke curling from the chimney gave signs of ha bitation. As the young man, with a face flushed by haste, broke from the undergrowth, he saw his companions crowded together on the bank of the river, while in their midst a woman, from whom 1 proceeded the shrieks, was visible, held back by two of the most athletic of the men, but still struggling violently for freedom. It was the work of an instant to make his way through the crowd and comfort the female. The moment her eyes fell on him she exclaimed : Oh, sir—you will do something for me. Make them release me--for the love of God ! My boy —my poor boy is drowning and they will not let me go." ft would be madness--she will jump into the river,' said one of those wino held her, as the fran tic mother strove again to break from his grasp.— The rapids would dash her to pieces in a minute.' The youth had scarcely waited for these words.— His eyes took in at a single glance, the meaning of the sad group. He recollected the child of the woman, a bold little fellow of four years old, whose handsome blue eyes and flaxen ringlets anode him a favorite with strangers, and filled the mother's heart with pride whenever she gazed on him. He had been accus tomed to play at will, in the little enclosure before the cabin ; but this morning, the gate having been accidentally left open, he had stolen out when his mother's hack was turned, reached the edge of the bank; and was in the act of looking over, when his parent's eye caught sight of him. The shriek which she uttered precipitated the catastrophe she feared, for the child frightened at the cry, lost his balance and fell headlong into the stream, which here went foaming and roaring along innumerable rocks, con• stituting the most dangerous rapids known in that section of the country. Scream now followed scream in rapid succession, as the agonized mother rushed to the bank. She arrived there eimultane ously with the party whom we left reclining in the shade, and who were scattered about within a few steps of the accident. Fortunate was It that they were so near, else the mother would have plunged in after the child and both been lost. Se ieral of the men immediately approached the brink and were on the point of springing in after the child, when the sight of the sharp rocks crowding the channel, the rush and whirl of the waters, and the want of any knowledge where to look for the child, deterred them, and they gave up the enterprise. Not so with the youth we have introduced. His first work was to throw off his coat; his next to spring to the edge of the bank. Here he stood for a second, running his eye rapidly over the scene below, and taking in, with a glance, the different currents and the most dangerous of the rocks, in or der to shape his course by them when in the stream. He had scarcely formed his conclusion, when his gaze rested on a white object in the water that he knew at once to be the boy's dress; and, while Ilie companions aghast at his temerity, were prevented, as much by consternation ashy the awe with which he had already inspired them from interfering, he plunged headlong into the wild and roaring rapids. . - 'Thank God—he will save my child,' gasped the woman, , see—there he is--oh ! my boy, my dar ling boy, how could I leave you.' Every ono had rushed to the brink of the preci pice, and was now fallowing, with eager eyes, the perilous progress of the youth, as the current bore him, onward like a feather in the embrace of a hur ricane. Now it seemed as if he would be dashed against a jutting rock over which the water flew in foam ; and now a whirlpool would drag him In, from whose grasp escape would appear impossible. At times the current bore him under, and he would be lost to sight; then, just as the spectators gave him up, he would reappear though far enough from where he vanished, still buffeting amidst the vortex. Oh ! how that mother's straining eyes followed hint in his perilous career—how her heart sank when ho went under—and with what a gush of joy she saw emerge again front the waters, and flinging the waves aside with hts athletic arms, struggle on, in pursuit of her boy. But it seemed as if his gen erous efforts were to be of no avail, for though the current was bearing off the boy before his eyes, scarcely ten feet distant, he could not, despite his gigantic efforts, overtake the drowning child. On they flew, the youth and the child ; and it was miraculous how he escaped being dashed to pieces against 'the rocks. Twice the boy went out of sight, and a suppressed shriek escaped the mother's lips; hut twice he re-appeared, and then, with hands wrung wildly together and breathless anxiety. she followed his progress, as his unresisting form was hurried onward with the current. The youth now appeared to redouble his exer tions, for they were approaching the most danger ous part of the river, where the rapids, contracting between the narrowed shores, shot almost perpen dicular down a declivity of fifteen feet. The rush of waters at this spot was tremendous, and no one ventured to approach its vicinity, even in a canoe, lest they should Le sucked in. What, then, would be the youth's fate unless he speedily overtook the child. He seemed fully sensible of the increasing peril, and urged his way through the foaming cur rent with desperate strength. Three several times he was on the point of grasping the child, when the waters whirled the prize from him. The third effort was mode just as they were abotit entering within the influence of the current above the fall, and when it failed the mother's heart sank within her end she groaned aloud, fully expecting to see the youth give up the task. But no ! he only pres sed forward the more eagerly, and as they breath lessly watched, they saw, amidst the boiling waters, as if bearing a charmed life, the final of the brave youth, following close after that of the boy. And, now, like an arrow from the bow, pursuer and pur sued shot the brink of the precipice. An instant they hung there, distinctly visible amid the glassy waters, that seemed to pause on the edge of the descent.. Every brain grew dizzy at the sight. But a shout of involuntary exultation burst from the spectators when they saw the boy held aloft by the right arm of the youth—a shout alas! that was suddenly checked by horror when the rescuer and rescued vanished into the abyss. A moment—rather many moments elapsed, be fore a word was spoken or a breath drawn. Each of the group felt that to look into the mother's face was impossible. She herself had started eagerly forward and now stood on the bank, a few paces nearer the cataract, where she could command a view of its foot, gazing thither with fixed eyes, as if her all depended on what the next momentshould reveal. Suddenly she gave a glad cry. There they are,' she exclaimed, see they are safe—Great God I thank thee!' and for a moment wildly turning her face to heaven, she hurried with trembling steps along the side of the river in the direction of the fall. Every eye followed hers, and sure enough there was the youth, still unharmed, and still buffeting the waters. He had just emerged from the boiling vortex below the cataract. With one hand he held aloft the child and with the other he was making for the shore. They ran, they shouted, they scarcely knew what they did, until they reached his side, just as be had struggled to the bank. They drew hint out ahnost exhausted. The boy was senseless but his mother declared he still lived as she pressed him frantically to her bosom. His preserver, powerfully built and athletic as he was, could scarcely stand, so faint was lie from his exertions. Who shall describe the sccdo that followed— the mother's calmness while she strove to resusci tate her boy, and her wild gratitude to his preserver when the child was out of danger and sweetly sleeping in her armsi Our pen shrinks at the task. But her words, pronounced them—we mny hope in the spirit of prophecy--were remembered afterward by more than one who heard them. God will reward you,' said she, as t cannot. He will do great things for you in return for this day's work, and the blessings of thousands, beside mine, will attend you.' And it was so. For to the hero of that hour were subsequently confided the destinies of a migh ty nation. But throughout his long career, what tended perhaps most to make him honored and re spected beyond all men, was the self.sacrifteing spirit which, in the rescue of that mother's child, as in the most august events of his life, characterized our WASHINGTON Glt. WONT Wen.--The Kentucky Giantess, who is 6 feet 1 t incites in height has refused to wed a 7 foot Vermonter on account of his small stature. She wants u mon, she says. AN Assws.n.—A lady wrote upon a window some verses, intimating her design of never marry ing. A gentleman wrote the following lines un derneath : Tito lady who this resolution took Wrote it on glass to show it could be broke. Z'hil. Plinn's Adventure. Did ye remember Jim Ryan, Teddy,' ,To be sure I do, Phil. llind't he stick to me like skin to a praty, in my set-to with the baste of a landlord who was for kicking Kathleen into na. ture's cabin, when her soul was bidding good-bye to her poor body?' True for you, Teddy. Ho was the boy to ham mer justice into a spalpeen with his fists, or the cardinal principles into a sinner with his tongue.— FatherO'Donnegan was no match for him. Faith you are right there, Phil. And by the same token, when I refused to listen to the advice of Father Matthew, didn't he preach to me until he made me believe that Belzebub used my heart for his breeches pocket?' Well, Teddy, when I wint to cousin Lary Bry an's wake, (rent his soul) I made over free with the dew, and got as drunk as a gintleman.' As was your custom, Phil. Whiskey came as natural to you as pratics.' And as natural to yourself, Teddy Burgess, as raw mate to a cannabal. As I was saying, I got as drunk as a baste at Lary's wake. The town clock was hammering out the small hours when I left the cabin. The moon, bad luck to him, had covered his head, but here and there I could see a star.winking at me as if it said mind your eye, Jim Ryan's.' Jist forenent his gate, I felt my feet trip ped up, but it was no use, for a great monster with horns held me down. Who are you,' said I. Belsebub,' said he, as he gave me a pelt on the nose with his hoof. Murther ! murther! !' said I. Hould your tongue, ye baste,' said Belzebub.— Yer a drunken divil, and ye belong to me.' When I heard this Teddy, I felt my limbs shake like a shamrock brig in a gale, and I called upon the Saints to help me. Ye needn't pray, Phil Flinn, ye are past re demption,' said he, giving me a butt with his horns which made my head crack as if a thousand shills , labs had been bating at it. Mr. Delzebub,' said I, it's not fair to strike a gintleman when he's on his ;rack.' Yer no gintleman, Phil Flinn,' said he. Yet a blackguard,' said I. Yer drunk,' said he, giving me another jab with his horns. t True for you, if you are the divil,' said I. ',olio waste ye! nuking. for whiskey; said he.— , Bridget, yer wife,le ragged, and yer children are starving.. Tree for you again,' said I. Yer a fit subject Cur purgatory,' said Ire. .13e easy with me, Mr. Belzebub, and I'll take the pledge,' said I. I'll not believe you, Phil Flinn,' said he. Let me off now,' said and I'll swear by $t Patrick to take the pledge to-morrow.' I'll not trust ye,' said he; and he began to pull mc, when I cried out, 'l'll take the pledge now, yer honor.' None of yer blarney, Phil; but if ye'll take the pledge this instant, ye'll find Jim Ryan within, and he'll give it ye.' 'l'll do that same,' said I ; and Beltebub, alley giving me another bolt with his horns, got off. As I rose up, who should I see but Jim Ryan coming towards me. Is that Phil Flinn 1' said he. It is, Jim.' Are you drunk said he. 'Na,' said I; Belaebilb had hammered me sober. You have been ;' said he. True, Jim; but I'm now steady as a praste,and have promised to take the pledge from you.' Good!' said Jim, as he led me into his cabin, where I took the pledge and went home to Bridget.' 'That's a strange story,' said Teddy Burgess. I kept the secret for a yea!, Teddy, and my pledge besides; and it was not until I became con firmed in sobriety, that Jim Rayon told me that on the night of Lary's wake, he had been to the mar ket town to buy a buck, and that he was carrying him from his cart as I was staggering home—that when I fell before his door, I joshed the buck from his shoulder—it fell on me; and instead of Belaebub it was the tethered buck that had kicked me, and Jim Rayon who played the part of the devil for the occasion. A Tintaisir IDEA.-The Now Orleans Picayune gives the following as a translation from a late Tur kish paper, printed at Constantinople, in relation to our Presidential election : ‘. Of tho three candidates now seeking to be Ca liph of America, two are men of remarkable endow mento and the other is naturally popular in tho Southern States. •In the North, where there are few people of color, the struggle will ben close one between Mr. Mini and Mr. Palk; but in the South Mr. Burnee, he being a black man, will of course carry every thing before him. Should either of the for mer be chosen, it is understood that the friends of the other will hang themselves in order to escape proscription, a species of guillotine very much dread ed by politicians, arid said to be an improvement upon the bow string. In case Mr. B. should tri umph there appears to be now no doubt that the whole white population will bo put to the sword.— Of course the success of either of the first named gentlemen will insure the decapitation of the tie groes, and produce a foreign war, as Great Britian has sworn to protect a race of people from which she gathers so much wool to pull over other pea ple's eyes.' c 0". A werb is a word that signifies to be to do, or to suffer, (which is all the gramme,. I ever was taught) and if there's a werb alive, I'm it. I'm al ways beM', sometimes dein,' and continually suffer- Chu:stet/AL Ak,Robber's Strzta:ent A freebooter taking an evening walk on a high way in Scotland, overtook and robbed a wealthy merchant traveller. His purpose Wan not achieved without a severe struggle, in which the thief lost his bonnet, and was obliged to escape leaving it on the road. A respectable farmer, happening to be the next passer, and seeing the bonnet alighted, took it up and imprudently put it on his head. At this instant the robbed man came up wills some assis tance, and recognizing the bonnet, charged the far mer with having robbed him, and took him into custody. There being some likeness between the two parties, the merchant persisted it the charge, and though the respectability of the fanner was ad mitted, he was indicted, and placed at the bar of a superior court for trial. The government witness, the merchant, swore positively to the identity of the bonnet, and deposed likewise to the identity of the farmer. 'the case was made out by this and other evidence, apparently against the prisoner. But there was a man in the court who well knew both who did and who did not commit the crime. This was the real robber, who suddenly advanced from the crowd, and seizing the fatal bonnet, which laid on the table before the witness, placed it on his own head, and looking him full in the face, said to him ih a voice of thunder, 'look at trte, sir, and tell me on the oath you have sworn, am I not the man who robbed you on the highway V By heavens, you are the very man!' You see,' said the robber what sort of memory the gentleman has, he swears to the bonnet, whatever features are under it. If the llon. Judge, were to put it on his own head, dare say that he would testify that he robbed him.' The innocent prisoner, was, on this evidence, at once acquitted because no reliance could be placed on such testimony, and yet it was positive evidence. Thus the robber had the merit of saving the guilt- less, and himself escaping detection. THE LION ' S Rosa IN TOE DESERT. -Early in the morning, as soon as the sun begins to cast its rays on the sandy billows of the desert, the royal animal rises from his lair to sally forth in quest of prey. His voice may be heard in the distance, it commences with a low murmuring which gradually increases, until it at last becomes a fearful and ter rific roar, like the roaring of thunder, and i■ audible at a distance of two miles. The whole animal kingdom tremble, and evince the greatest fear when the king of beasts is heard; the sheep tremble as if attacked with the ague, place their heads together, and endeavor to hide themselves—the heroes break out into a sweat with fear, and the dogs hairy ad fast as they car., to find a place of refuge. In fine, all the beasts ore seized with the most unequivocal terror, when the lion makes his approach known.— Should a caravan happen to be near the spot, it is impossible to keep the camels together—they leap about in all directions, and are scattered about un der the influence of fear. I, myself, once had the opportunity of witnessing a scene of this kind. On arriving, in my travels, at the well of Samaria, we suddenly heard a murmuring noise afar,reaemhling the rolling of balls in an empty barrel—but!we Were soon acquainted with the true cause, when it gradu ally increased to the terrible thunker-like roar.— With the first perception 4 this noise, the camels belonging to our caravan separated in all directions. The men end the eases tv:re thrown oft and if one of the riders happeaed to keep his seat at the first alarm, he was subsequently necessitated to leap down to avoid toeing felled by the branches of the trees—for we were unfortunately near a forest of mimossas, and every one was in danger of being torn by their large spines. This confusion, howev er, did rot last long, for the lion took quite an oppo site direction to the route of our enravan—but a whole day was lost in collecting the goods that had been thrown off or torn down by the trees, and one of the camels strayed to a great distance.—Eastern Traveller. THE DUTCNAN'S Two TOGll'—Reader: did you ever hear the story of the Dutchman's two togs t' No. Well, here it is—listen Mine two togs is better as you can't find in te world. To little tog, mit black spots on him, is not so pig as to big tog init notting but vita all obcr him. 're little tog's tail curl vonce, twice, tree times, like to shrnoke from mine pipe; but to otter tog's don't curl one little mite, because it vas not cut off long enough to curl. Yen to little tog parks, he says bow-wow wow; but yen to pig pull tog lets off his park ho goes boo-woo-woo—l calls him te pull tog because he piles to pull like to tuytles. Vert he catches to pull by te nose and holds him so fast es I can calk, te little tog jumps up behind, to catch hold of to middle of his tail ; and den he swings die vay and dat vay, like—like—vot you call dat what makes to clock go A Goon HINT.—Sam Sliick counsels fathers, who have marriageable sons, in the following wise : If you want a son not to fall in love with any eplendifferous gal, praise her tip to the aides, cull her an angel, say she is a whole team and a horse to spare and ull that —The moment the critter area her, ho is a little grain disappointed, and says, .Well, she is handsome, that's a fact; but she is not so very, very overlantin' pretty arter all,—Then he criticises her. Her foot is too thick in the instep ; she rouges, is affected ; and so on : and the more you oppose hint the more ho abuses her, till he swears she is misreported, and aunt handsome at all. Say nothing to him, and ho in spooney over head and ears its a minute. Ile aces all beauty nod no dokets, and is for walkers' into her affections at once. Noth in' damages n gall, n preacher, or a lake, like overpraise. A holm in one of the °Wiest thing. I in natur' that is helped by it. ,--- 12actDaas• Esoccha 4V A. Touching Little fltory. There is something in female honesty which charms as much as honesty in a MU ; and both ate so rare, and at the same time so estimable, that the celebrated distich of our moral bard will equally apply to either: • A *it's a feather, end a chief's a rod ; An honest man's the noblest work of God.' The Cardinal Fames, who was very properly named the patron of the poor, gave public audience once a week to indigent persons in his neighbor hood, and distributed his bounty among them ay.; cording to their wants. A woman of genteel ad dress, but in a dejected, folorn condition, presented herself one day with her daughter; a beautiful crea ture about fifteen years bid, before this liberal ecclesiastic. My lord,' said she, the rent of my house (five crowns) has been due some days, and my landlord threatcna to tam rue into the street, unless he is paid within the week. Have the goodness, my Lord Caidinal, to interpose your sacred authority, until by our industry we can satisfy the demand of our persecutor.' The cardinal wrote a billet, which he putinto the petitioner's hand, and said, 'Go to my steward with this paper, and receive from him five crowns:— tut the steward, on her presenting the document, paid down fifty. The woman absolutely refused to receive more than five, alleging that his eminence gave her to expect no more, and that it Must tre e mi.- take. Both lucre so convinced of acting literally according to order, that it was mutually agreed to refer the matter to the cardinal himself. 'lt is true,' said he, 'there must be a mistake.-- Give the paper and I will rectify it.' He then re turned the billet thus rectified to the woman, saying, So much candor and honesty deserve recompense. Here; I have ordered you a thousand crowns.— What you can spare out of it lay up as a dowry for your daughter in marriage, and regard my donation as the blessing of God on the upright disposition of a pure mind.' Vakatries of the loan. Thomas Moon wds arrested on Friday night, for being eclipsed by a heavy cloud of liquoor. What's your name 'l' said the Watchman. Moon,' said Tom. You can't shine, Mr. Moon !' said the watch.' can't, that's a fact,' said Tom, .tho' I•have filled my horns, and emptied them too; but kiwi nte a hand—help me to rise. You know what Byron soya-- . Tho Moon is up ! By Heaven. ! a glorious sight f' Yes, I knows all that,' said the watchman, hut its no matter whether I does or not, 'cause it aint nothin' but poctry,and my old 'ortolan always told melts how poetry is nonesenso ; so come along to the watch-house, Mr. Moon.' I cry quarter,' said Moon. You shall get a quarter—that is, three calenclee months—in the watch house,' cold the watchman. , Then you extinguish my proepectsfutever;said Moon. Not ri bit of it,' said the Watchman; for instead of putting you out, I put you in. And so, without saying more on the subject, he took off Moou to the calabor,zeo, a place where ho had often been before, lie was immediately recognized by the officer of the night, whose first salutation was : " Why, Moon, how do you rise?' 'I don't rise at all; said he, I'm on the decline,' And so you have let yourself be taken up again,' said the officer. Well,' he added, I will not prtend to say that you are male of green chew; but from the number of times which you hove recently let yourself fat: into the hands of the watch, I do say you must be composed of verdant material.' Mr. Moon got his third quarter in the work house from the Recorder.--N. 0. Picayune. THE Bi BLE.-A French officer, who wns a pri soner on his patrol° at Reading, met with a Bible. He read it, and was so struck with its contents, that he was convinced as to the truth of Christianity; and resolved to become a Protestant. When his gay associates rallied him for taking so serious a turn, he said in his vindication—. I have done no more than my school-fellow, Barnadotte, who is bee- come a Lutheran.' • Vcs ; but he became so,' said his associates, ' to obtain a crown.' My object,' said the Christian officer, is the same. We only diar as to the place. The object of Bernadotte is to obtain a crown in Sweden ; mine, to obtain one in heaven.'—English Paper. ~f An ill-natured editor perpetrates the following mess of spleen against that unfortunate class of community, known as old maids: The safest place in a thunder storm is on the larboard side of an old maid. Being a nonconduc tor there is no danger of her attracting any thing.' nj'Txe scwr tiP axixs in creation is u sweet kiss ! We speak from experience, of course! The remedy should be used with great caution, however, as it is spt to bring on an affection of the heart ! '.NOTHING.—Au Irishman has defined nothing to lat .2 footless stocking without a leg.'— A description by another Emeralder is better: What.is nothing?' he was astral—. Shut you{ eyes and you will see it,' said Pat.