Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, August 20, 1850, Image 1
I , k, 7/ -I, ,1 44•1 Rr' / 0 ' I 4Z / `7, /4 rir ; IF C" .° 1 2 ' IP, dra' BY JAS. CLARK. CHOICE POETRY The Dying Child's Request. " Mother, don't let them carry me away down to the dark, cold church-yard, but bury me in the garden—in the garden, mother!" b, mother! in you church-yard dread Lay not your little one, Where marble tomb-stones, o'er the dead, Are shining in the sun. I know, clear mother! I must die, But let me not go there,— In that sad place I fear to lie, It is too cold and drear. In our sweet garden I will rest, Beneath the orange tree, The mocking bird there builds her nest, And she will sing o'er me. And there, next spring, will roses, too, Bloom red upon their stalks, Hyacinth and hearts-case blue, Flourish beside the walks. The ehureh-yard, mother! is too fur, So far from you and home,— it looks so wild when evening's star Hangs in heaven's azure dome. Then promise, mother! near to you My little grave shall be, Where hyacinth and hearts-case blue, Grow by the orange tree. The dying child could speak no more; When her lust wish was told, Death's paleness spread Tier visage o'er, Her lips grew white and cold. Her narrow tomb, amidst the flowers, Was in the garden made; And oft that mother weeps, for hours, Beneath the orange shade. And When those flowrets bloom and blush, With rich and varied dyes, She thinks, and bids her sorrows hush,— "My flower blooms in the skies." MISCELLANEOUS THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. Interesting Incidents. The newspapers from all sections of the nation come to us filled with the eulogies on the lute Pres ident, pronounced at various mortuary comtnemo rations. Most of these addresses, says the Phila delphia Bulletin, though they abound in noble tes timonials to the worth of the departed hero, con tain little or nothing that is new. A few howev er, are of a different class, and embody facts res pecting General Taylor, hitherto not generally known. Among this last description of addresses is one pronounced at Salem, Mass., on the 18th ultimo, by the Hon. C. W. Upham. It contains an account of the celebrated flag of truce which, during the battle of Buena Vista, was sent from Santa Anna to Gen. Taylor; and as this account was derived front the lips of the late President, it is veracious in every respect, and will hereafter pass into history. The passage is as follows : " As this incident of the battle may possibly, if the secret history of the war is ever fully revealed, be found to shed light upon it, I will here record the facts related to me by General Taylor himself: During the height of the conflict, a flag was ap proaching. The emergencies of the day had so stripped bins of Isis staff, that, having no one to send, he scent himself to meet it. As the young officer who bore it could not speak English, nor he Spanish, the conference took place in Francis. The communication was this: "General Santa Anna desires to know what General Taylor wants Y" Feeling somewhat indignant that a message appa rently impertinent should have been sent at such a moment, and regarding it as perhaps a device merely to gain time, or sumo other illegitimate ad vantage, or at best, a species of trilling, he gave an answer dictated by the feeling of the moment— " What General Taylor Mina is Gen. Santa An na's army." • Here the conference closed, and the Mexican of ficer withdrew. Upon a moment's reflection, he regretted that he had given an answer so undiplo matic, and having snarls the air of a repartee.— He called to mind the filet that his government had advised him that they had fisvored the return of Santa Anna to Mexico, from a belief that he was disposed to promote, and might have influence enough with his countrymen to effect a termina tion of the war, and it occurred to him really de- Aped to open a negotiation, and, perhaps, a pa cification—an object ever near Isis heart. He rode over the field in search of Gen. Wool, and made known the circumstance to him, and sag vested, if not too great a personal exposure, the expediency of his carrying a flag to the Mexican lines to ask an explanation of the message. To send ass officer of his rank, character and position, would remove the indignity, if it should lie so regarded, of his blunt and summary answer. Gen. Wool readily and gallantly undertook the service, and rode forth to execute it, but the fire of the Mexican batteries could not again be stop ped and no further parley took place. The next morning when Col. Bliss was sent with a flag to the Mexican Head Quarters, he was requested to ascertain what had been intended by the message of the previous day, but he found the state of things such as to render it vain to enter wan the subject. The import of this message remains un riddled to this day. Santa Anna can undoubtedly solve the enigma." Mr. Upham, in the course of his address, gives numerous anecdotes, exhibiapg the late President's courage and generosity. Among other instances of the display of these qualities on t!,e part of the deceased hero, he gives the following: " In the conversation, from which I derived these interesting items of information, General Taylor described to me the anxious consultations of the second night of the battle. Ilis officers came to him, one after another, expressing a deci ded opinion that his army was too much broken to be brought up to the struggle another day.— Ile declared to them his belief that dreadfidly as his forces had suffered, the enemy had suffered worse; that retreat, or any other alternative, was entirely out of the question; that he had madeNs arrangements to present, still, a formidable 11.6nt to the foe, and all that remained for them was to make up their minds to conquer or die together, if the assault should be renewed with the returning light. "But," said he, "gentlemen, it will not be renewed. I surveyed the whole field as the sun went down, and I believe we have beaten the en emy." When the third day dawned it was discovered that Santa Anna haul fled from the ground. Gen. Taylor instantly ordered a train of wagons, provi ded with medical and other moans of relief, and accompanied by surgeons from his own army, to follow on the track of the Mexicans and adminis ter to the wants of the wounded and disabled whom they lutd abandoned on their retreat. Upon some one's expressing a doubt whether such a use of the public stores and waggons, for the benefit of the enemy, would he alowed by the Department, Taylor cut the difficulty short, at once, by saying— " Then I will pay the bill"—and to provide fur the contingency, he directed a separate account to be of all that was expended for the purpose." Why Epidemics rage at Night. It was one night that 4000 perished in the Plague of London of 1665. It was at night that the army of Sennacherib was destroyed. Both in England and on the continent a large proportion of cholera cases in its several forms, have been observed to have occurred between one and two o'clock in the morning. The " danger of exposure to the night air" has Wenn theme of physicians front time im memorial; but it is remarkable that they have never yet called in the aid of chemistry to account for the fact. It is at night that the streams of air nearest the ground must always be the most charged with the particles of annualized matter given out front the skin, and deleterious gases, such as carbonic acid gas, the product of respiration, and sulphuretted hydrogen, the product of sewers. In the day, gas es and vaporous substances of all kinds rise in the air by the rarefaction of heat; at night when the rarefaction leaves them they fall by an increase of gravity, if imperfectly mixed wills the atmosphere, while the gases evolved during the night instead of ascending remain at nearly the same level. It is known that carbonic acid gas at a low tempera ture partakes so nearly of the nature of a fluid, that it may be poured out of one vessel into anoth er; it rises at the temperature at which it is calm led from the longs, but its tendency is towards the floor, or the bed of the sleeper, in cold and unven tilated rooms. At Hamburg, the alarm of cholera at night in some parts of the city was so great, that on some occasions many refused to go to bed, lest they should be attacked unawares in their sleep. Sit ting up, they probably kept their stoves or open tires burning fur the sake of warmth, and that warmth giving the expansion to any deleterious gases present, which would best promote their es cape, and promote their dilution in the atmosphere, the means of safety were thus unconsciously assu red. At Sierra Leone, the natives have a prae lice, in the sickly season, of keeping fires burning in their huts at night, assigning that the fires keep away the evil spirits, to which in their ignorance they attribute the fbver and ague. Latterly, Eu ropeans have begun to adopt the same practice, and those that have tried it assert that they have entire immunity from the tropical fevers to which they were formerly subject. In the epidemics of the middle ages fires used to be lighted in the streets for the purification of the air; and in the plague of London, of 1665,fires in the streets were at one time kept burning inces santly, till extinguished by a violent storm of rain. Latterly, trains of gunpowder have been fired, and cannon discharged for the same object, but it is obvious that these measures, although sound in principle, must, necessarily, oat of doors, be on too small a scale, as measured against an ocean of at mospheric air, to produce any sensible effect.— Within doors, however, the case is different. It is quite possible to heat a room to produce a rare faction and consequent dilution of any malignant' cases it may contain; and it is of course the air of, the room, and that alone, at night, which comes into immediate contact with the lungs of a person sleeping.— irestminster Retie, Site of Paradise. Col. Chesney, who commanded an expedition, sent, a few years back, by the British government, to explore the Euphrates, has introduced into his narrative, recently published, speculations on the probable site of Paradise, which he believes he has satisfactorily ascertained to be Central Armenia; and "the Land of Eden" is there actually laid down pu the index map. Be identities the Ilitlys and Araxes, whose source exists within a short distance of the Euphrates and Tigris, with the Pisgon and Gihon of Scripture, while he considers the country within the /Julys as the land liavilah, and that which borders on the Araxes, as the re mailable and much disputed territory of Cush. Ce" We would take exquisite pleasure in kick ing the &tiler to death, who, upon hearing of his daughter's suicide, fur disappointed love, curls his lip, and exclaims "Serves her right." Such a man lives in Covington, Icy., and is named Kean. HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, AUGUST 20, 1850, AN ARMY OF MONKEYS. A novel Suspension Mdge. "They are coining towards the bridge; they will most likely cross by the rocks yonder," ob served Raoul. "How—swim I" I asked. "It is a torrent there !" "Oh, no !" answered the Frenchman; "mon keys would rather go into fire than water. If they cannot leap the stream, they will bridge it." "Bridge it! and how?" " Stop a moment. Captain—you shall see."— The half human voices now sounded nearer, and we could perceive that the animals were approach ing the spot where we lay. Presently they appear ed upon the opposite bank, headed by an old grey chieftain and officered like so many soldiers.— They were, as Raoul stated, of the comadreja or ringtailed tribe. One—un aid-de-camp, or chief pioneer, perhaps —ran out upon a projecting rock, and, after look ing across the stream as if calculating the distance scampered back and appeared to communicate with the lender. This produced a movement in the troop. Commands were issued, and fatigue parties were detailed and marched to the front.— Meanwhile several of the comadrejas—engineers, no doubt—tun along the bank, examining trees on both sides of the arro-go. At length they all collected around a tall cotton wood that grew over the narrowest pint of the stream, and 20 or 30 of them scampered up its trunk. On reaching a high point, the foremost— a strong fellow—ran out upon a limb, and taking several terns of Isis tail around it he slipped off and hung head downwards. The next on the limb, also a stout one, climbed slows, the body of the first and whipped Isis tail tightly round the neck mud foresees of the latter, dropped off in his turn, and hung head down. The third repeated this ma meuvre upon the second, and the fourth upon the third and so on, until the last one upon the string rested Isis fore paws upon the ground. The living chain now commenced swinging backwards and forwards, like the pendulum of a clock. The motion was slight at first but gradu ally increased, the lowermost monkey striking his hands violently on the earth as he passed else tan gent of the oscillating curve. Several others upon the limbs above aided the movement. This continued until the monkey at the end of the chain was thrown among the branches of a tree on the opposite bank. Here, after two or three vibrations, he clutched a limb and held fast. The movement was executed adroitly, just at the cul minating point of the oscillation, in order to save the intermediate links front the violence au too sudden jerk. The chain was now fast at both ends, forming a complete suspension bridge, over which the whole troop to the number of four or live hundred, pass ed with the rapidity of thought. It was one of the most comical sights I ever be held, to witness the quizzical expression of coun tenances along that living chain The troop was now on the other side, but how were the animals fonning the bridge to get them selves over? This was the question which sug gested itself. Manifestly, by number ono letting go his tail. But then the point d'appui on the other side was notch lower down, and number one and half a dozen of his neighbors, would dash against the opposite bank, or be soused into the water. Here, then, was a problem, and we waited with some curiosity for its solution. It was soon sol ved. A monkey was now seen attaching his tail to the lowest on the bridge, another girded him in a similar manner, and another, and so on, until a dozen snore were added to the string. These last were all powerful fellows; and, running op a high limb, they lifted the bridge into a position almost horizontal. Then a scream from the last monkey of the new formation warned the tail end that all was ready ; and the next moment the whole chain was swung over, and landed safely on the opposite bank.— The lowermost links now dropped off like a melt ing candle, while the higher onos leaped to the brunches and came down by the trunk. The whole troop then setunpered off into the chapparel and disappeared!—Copt. Reid's Adventures in South ihnerim. Rejoice not at Misforttme. Never rejoice at another's misfortune because it may turn out to your advantage. In some parts of Germany they make use of the saying "my corn is ripening," which a person will repeat who has the prospect of something profitable occurring to him. Once while a surgeon and carpenter were taking a walk together, they observed at some dis tance a small village, known to them both, on fire. The carpenter pointed to it, and said to his com panion, "my corn is ripening," for ho concluded that if the old houses wore burned new ones would require to be built; but, as he looked intently at the conflagration and not at the road, immediately after saying this he fell into a ditch and broke his arm. "Ah 1" said the surgeon, "it appears to me that my corn is already ripe." The following lines convey a very correct description of Governor Corwin, tho present Sec retary of the Treasury :- ----, A man as dusky as a Spaniard, Sunburnt by Native, yet a portly figure; Though colored, as it were, within a tan yard, As being a person both of sense and vigor :" 65 - The impression produced in Europe by the intelligence of Gen. Taylor's death seems to have been most profound. The leading journals make the event the subject of elaborate comment, and uniformly speak of the deceased as one of the "foremost men of all this age." THE NEWSPAPER. The newspaper is the library of the people.— Wherever newspapers are extensively rend and paid for, you will find a thriving, intelligent anal enterprising community. The newspaper, coining periodically, fresh from the press, with the latest news, editorial notices, and interesting varieties, is a powerful stimulant to the reading appetite and naturally creates a desire for useful knowledge, excites thought, sharpens the mental vision, and largely contributes to the formation of good habits. The newspaper is the palladium of our rights— the out-post of Liberty—else annihilator of distance. The western farmer in his cabin, by looking thro' a newspaper, may see what is going on in the cap ital of his own State; or in that of the nation, and Wlistever transpires of public interest in any other part of the country or of the world. The news ' paper furnishes valuable business information, and contributes something for the amusement, instruc tion and gratification of all. To an American ci tizen it is an invaluable necessary, far more so than tea, coffee, or any other luxury. Ha who reads not the newspaper is behind the age—he is a ,genuine outsider, not knowing what is going on in the world, and a bore and burrowing pest to his neighbors who take newspapers. lie and his fam ily must grew up in ignorance, of little use to so ciety, liable at all times to become the victims of sharpers. Therefore, if you wish to become valuable, in telligent and thrifty citizens—if you desire to rear moral and intelligent families subscribe for a news paper, if you do not take one already. If you can subscribe but for one paper, let that be your coun ty paper, fur it is your interest and duty to support that handsomely. To you no paper will be so in structive and vahutble. This is a manifest propo sition. TILE BIBLE. A nation must be truly blessed, if it were gov , erred by no other laws than those of this blessed book; it is so complettta system that nothing can be added to it or taken from it; it contains every thing needful to be known or done; it afibrds a I copy for a king, and a rule for a subject; it gives instruction and council to a senate, authority and direction to a magistrate; it cautions a witness, re quires an impartial verdict for a jury, and furnish es a judge with his sentence; it sets the husband 1 1 as lord of the household, and the wife as mistress of the table; tells him how to rule and how to manage. It entails honor to parents, and enjoins obedience upon children; it prescribes and limits the sway of sovereigns, the rule of the ruler, and authority of the master; commands the subject to honor and the servant to obey; and promises the protection of its author to all who walk by its rules. It gives directions for weddings and for burials; it promises food and raiment, and limits the use of both; it points out a faithful and eternal guardian to the departing husband and hither; tells him with whom to leave his fatherless children, and in whom his widow is to trust, and promises a father to the former and a husband to the latter. It teaches a man how he ought to set his house in order, and how to make his will; it appoints a Bowery for his wife, and entails a right of the first-born; and shows how the younger brunches shall be left. It defends the right of all and reveals vengeance to the defrauder, over-reacher and oppressor. It is the first book and the oldest book in the world.— It contains the choicest matter, gives the best in , stmetion, and affords the greatest pleasure and satisfitction that ever were revealed. It contains the best laws and profoundest mysteries that ever were penned: It brings the best tidings, and af fords the best comforts to the inquiring and discon solate. It exhibits life and immortality, and shows the way to everlasting glory. It is a brief recital of sell that is to come. It settles all matters in de , bate, resolves all doubts, and eases the mind and conscience of all their scruples. It reveals the on ly living mai true God, and shows the way to him; and sets aside all other gods, and describes the vanity of them, and of all that put their trust on them. ROSES. The Rose, in all countries and in all times, has been held as the queen of flowers. The name, us it cornea to us, is frosts the Greek radon; it has re lation to the color red. The Greeks took their impression of the rose, and all matters of taste in the vegetable kingdom, front the Egyptians, Per sians, and other nations of Asia. Everywhere it is the type of beauty and love. The Greeks had more taste than imagination, and they found in their beautiful fitbles the luxuriant growth of Ori ental fancy. They have this tradition. The god of love made a present to Ilarpocrates, the god of silence, of a beautiful rose, the first that had been known; and hence it has become a custom to have a rose placed in their rooms of mirth and enter tainment, that smiler the assurance thereof; they might lay aside all restraint, and speak what they pleased. Thus did the rose become a symbol of silence, and sub roan, under the ruse, denotes as much as to be out of danger of any disclosures.— ln India and in other portions of the East, the rose was commingled with sentiment and song. Its beauty and its perftune made it, in their imagina tions, a match for the sweetest of Nature's music, and hence the Nightingale to the Rose. Flowers are delightful to all. The tasteful Athenians, who had a market for the sale of them, were obliged to pass sumptuary laws to restrain the extravagance of purchasers. Such was the passion over every mind in the East for flowers, that from them has been made universal language of friendship, affec tion, and love. It is one of no difficult acquire ment, and fragments have been diffused fir and wide. Roses are ornaments of the altar of Hymen, while vases of Fillies are placed upon the gave of youth and innocence. 16," MIND, nut money, makes the Mall. SPALIMIN 9 A GALL, Or, Love and Dull Dogs: IThey do say that gals is a iced° contrary bid 'taint so. They may act a kale baulk sometimes, but then arter all they like a feller well muff.— 'Taint gal fashion to tell on't rite off; they're a sort o' turkey buzzard, they'll peck around for a spell, then all to oast they'll git up an 'nub a feller. I've had considerable 'spearience in that line, an' I know a beetle sun:thing 'bout it. Now I've court ed a darn many gals in my life, en' perhaps more. The that gal that I ever went to see was Nutley Nevelett. Sweet Sisslly! she was a scrouger. If a feller should see her once, he'd nick sure.— There was sun:thing' sernmshus' about that gal, that made me love her mor'n I could pick up chips for a week. Many an' many's the time when I've took that gal to meethe. All the other fellers would look at us, as tho' they'd like to mix in ; but 'twarut to be did! I swan to a man if I ever belched a teller winkin' at my gal, I'd knock him blue'rn a jay bird. Ono Sunday that gal axed me to come an' see her, when the old folks wawnt to 1t5,,,,. Jells ! I'd go if Beelzybub stood in the door. Sunday come, an' I put on my best rig, rubbed 'hoist a pound of taller candles an' a quart a' goose grease in my hair, an' off I started, a whistlin' Yankee Doodle, an' prouder',, old Zach Taylor at Bony Visty. I got thar an' there wallet a soul to hum /km Ike, her little brother. Well I wallet to be skeert by trundle-bed trash, so 1 took a char an' sot down 'bout a rod from Nance. I felt all over as queerish as a hen with her head off. She looked at me an' I blushed so that I feel the grease run down my back a perfect stream. We sot than 'bout an hour 'thout saying a word. By-and-bye she broke out " Is thar any news up your way 7" says she. "No," says I," not as I knows on. Oh! eh, yes, Sake Wakefield's got married, au' run off wills the tea-spoons an' a pot o' phun sass." " Anythise else 7" says she. "Yes," says I. • " What 1" says she. " Why ono o' our matte-kittens got her head into the lasses-cup, an' when we took her out o' it the young 'uns gut hold on her un' licked her to death." " Anythin' else 7" " I believe not," says I. " Won't you Oct up near the fire?" says she. " I don't cure if I do," says I. So I hitched up closer. She commenced a lof ting. Trowsers an coff-candy ! I could'nt star' it no longer, so I jest up and gin her a kiss—maple =lasses! if a feller could only spread sich things on a chunk o' short cake Arter a while the old folks come home and axed me to stay to supper, so I staid. Well, to cut a long yarn short I concluded to stay all night. So sorter talkin' with the old mina a spell 'hoist har vestin' an' the like, I bid all good night ass' start ed for roost. "rwsw 'way up in the cock-loft, whar I could look through the rafters and see stars.— So arter skarin' a couple o' cats off o' the ruff that was a mewin', I lulled into sly nest ass' 'mann long afore I was snorein' like a roach. I slept all night till nigh mornin' when I head the &rudest racket that ever was. So I tho't I'd gest git up an' see what on airth was the matter. Jest as I was gettin' out s' bed, my shirt some how or oth er gist over the bed post, the head-board came out, I slipped and fell head downwards. I tho't o' Captain Kidd, Absylom, and all other unfortunate twins what got !mg, but they had a consolation what I hadn't got—they hung right end up. I be gun to say the Lord's prayer as loud as I could holler, when I heerd that gaul darn noise agin, an' I looked—crippled crea.shun, ass' Tom Walker ! when I think on't 'tis enuff to make use kick my old blind grandaddy from here to kingdom come, an' from there to the salt-works. I hope I may he scorched if thew warn't the old man's toy New foundland dogs had my trowsers in thar jaws, one holt o' one leg, ms' the other a puffin' on ens, an' a tearin' 'em up the crotch—net satinetts, cost isle twenty York shillins—it's a fact! What did Idew, then? you'll ask. Why I was thunderstruck with the cussed dogs' imperdenee, so I jest concluded to come down. I gin a jerk an' down I come, flat on the floor, 'thout a darned rag on me 'ceptin' a sieve o' my short; the rest hung to the bed post. Arter I'se down I darsent to go near the dogs, for Pee [steered they'd put their dental arrangements in my rutinin' bosuns. The nest minut I heard the old man a comin' up stairs with a pitchfork, a nankin there was rob bers or a dromedary tryiu' to set fire to the house —so I thought it was time to marvel. I eyed them are cussed brutes an' then, " With Tarquin's ravishin' towards his design I moved like a ghost," grasps a sheet, raps it around me, jumps out'n a tow story winder on a shed, an' from thar to the ground, an' skeeted quicker'n a streak o' lightnin' thro' a pertater patch. ' I never went to see Nance arter that. In con elusion I would any to all fellers what's a goin' "to sparkiu'," to find out whether thor's any bone hunters 'bout the premises; if thar aint why buck right up an' don't be skeert, but if that is, turn your heel ate—travel. Commonplace Talk. Fuseli, the painter, bad a great dislike to com monplace observations. Alter sitting perfectly silent for a long time, in his own room, during the "bald disjointed chat" of some idle callers-in, who were gambling with one another about the weather and other topics of as interesting a nature, he suddenly exclaimed, "We had pork for dinner to-day !" "Dear Mr. Fuseli, what an odd rci murk 1" " Why, it is no good as anything you have been saying for the last hour," VOL. XV,--NO. 33. TINE MISTAKE OF A NIGHT. Queer things occur amid the blaze of noon,' but queerer still take place among the still hours of the night. The following, for instance, is one of the queerest in the category, and as Watts says, The deeds of darkness we have done, Must all appear bane the situ. It may not lie quite improper to make it public, pmifive that the parties therein concerned will not object thereto, us their identity must remain a mys tery to the inquisitive. It was upon a public occasion, when all the ho tels in call the place what you will, were tilled from top to bottcat. Landlords economized room and space with amazing cunning, packing as many so, three fat Men in one bed, on a dog-day night too; or on the fluor in such copious confu sion us to nulle the property of certain sets of limbs to particular body a mutter of serious doubt. Bo nifitee with' not put out a single individual, but he could put him away some how or other. One of these good natured hosts, however, was sadly perplexed where to lodge a particular friend. lie could not, consistently with correct notions of amity, run a pole out of the window and request his friend to roost for the night, as a Kentucky landlord is reported to have done when pressed lbr room ; and it was only after a good deal of calcu lation that a bright and generous idea canto to his and his friend's relief. 'My old woman's gone to see her folks,' said he, 'end won't come home till to-morrow—now you take my bed, for I shan't have occasion for it, seeing I must attend the folks and keep them ar chaps, scattered on the hall floor, from fighting.' Accordingly the guest took possession of Boni face's bed—sunk up to his nose amid the feathers, and soon scent to the land of Nod, thanking his stars for having escaped the confusion below. Ilad he known what sonic post had written, with a chuckle, smothered in his two pair of pillows, ho might have exclaimed, • In this tumultuous sphere fur the unfit, llow seldom art thou found, tranquility. Ile slept and snored, but it wits for a little while only. An intruder appeared, and he awoke with the inquiry, ' Who's that ?' 'lt's me, old man—go to sleep again,' was the reply, given in female accents, 'but don't take up all the bed' ' It ain't your old man,' said the stranger, whose nose, by the way,. singularly resembled that of Bonithee, whose wife the reader has already guess .edto be the new corner. Being very bashful, the poor fellow drew the clothes over his head, and in smothered tones besought the landlady to clear right square out. 'Just as I expected,' exclaimed the old woman, drunk again when the house is full of folks what can steal, rob and murder the hull on us,' and she proceeded to the bedside, and groping in the dark, contrived to uncover the unfortunate mall's head and then he had to 'take it' in every sense of the word. Being a bachelor he had merely heard of a matrimonial combing down of the locks, but his experience of the operation so the outstripped his conceptions that he bellowed murder most lustily, Cry murder and raise the hut! house, will yotil; cried the landlady, shaking her victim's scalp front the root ehoost, Let me shouted the man, 'I ain't yer man—Murder ! Murder I' The last yell wrmlg by the intense pain front the greatest power of the sufferer's lungs, brought Bounce and posse to the door. A general rush was made to the apartment, and the matter was explained amid the shouts of the assemblage. ' Now,' whispered the jolly 'landlord, in his friend's ear, when leading hint to Sicker,' just think how I've got to be put through.' A Moral for the People. • The Carlise Volunteer, in speaking of the Web ster case; with its characteristic good sense gives the following instructive moral reflections: But we cannot dismiss the subject without a brief remark upon the most probable cause of the crime. Society is not clear of a share in this sad catastrophe. If wen reach a certain position, the loss of it is degradation. Hence sea and law? aro ransacked, heaven and earth are compassed—for what? To maintain appearance. • Poor Webster's real income was below the standard of his repor ted wealth. This kept hint forever in debt to sup port his carriage, parties and equipage. At last he became the debtor of a practical financier, whose call for his money was as certain as the ar rival of the day on which it became due. Web ster knew this, and the ties of Dr. Parkman haun ted hint like a spectre of doom. But oue alterna tive remained—either his own loss of caste, or the assassination of his creditor. Pride and moral timidity forbade hint to come down, and conse quently Parkman was murdered. We are witnesses of the mawkish sentiment to which we have referred, and on several occasions have not hesitated to denounce it. True we have had no murderers, and trust we never shall; but we have our artificial lines enclosing cliques and parties which possess pores' affinity fur each oth er. Neighbors meet every day in the year, and with no feud or quarrel, refuse to recognize each other. The heads of families encourage and prac tice this system, and the sons and dang,hters fol low obedient and cheerfully. if they possessed influence of the means of independence, their con duct would not seem so supremely foolish, but in many cases the very reverse is the fact. In God's name, young men and young women, wo beg you to reflect. Living as you do, in perfect idleness, whence is your support to come when your fitth ers and mothers are in their graves, and yourselves thrown upon a world that is wide awake for num ber one? Assume a regular business, practice in• dustry, resist she devil of indolence; and health, ',tee, and „happiness will attend yon.