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LIO - 6- 5
BY JAS. CLARK.
A WORLD OF LOVE AT HOME.
BY J. J. REYNOLDS,
The earth bath treasures fair and bright,
Deep buried in her caves,
And ocean hideth many a gem
With his blue curling waves;
Yet not within her bosom dark,
Or 'neath the dashing foam,
Lies there a treasure equalling
A world of love at home.
True sterling happiness and joy
Are not with gold allied;
Igor can it yield a pleasure like
A merry fireside.
I envy not the man who dwells
In stately hall or dome,
If 'mid his splendor he 'lath not
A world of love at home.
The friends whom time bath proved sincere,
'Tis they alone can bring
A sure relief to hearts that droop
'Neath sorrow's heavy wing;
Though care and trouble may be mine,
As down life's path I roam,
I'll heed them not while still I have
A world of love ut home.
[From the Lady's Wreath.]
THE YANKEE GIRL.
The long winter evening was drawing to a close
--the books and work had beets put by—the "big
ha' Bible" reverently deposited in its accustomed
place at the close of family worship, and the cheer
ful circle that surrounded the family circle of far
mer Lee, after an affectionate good night, told re
tired to their respective apartments. The farmer
himself rose from his chair, and carefully covering
up the glowing coals which sent n fitful light through
the now darkened roofs, woo about to retire, when
a sudden rush of emotion seemed to overpower him
and throwing Isimself on the ' wooden settee which
occupied one corner of the. huge chimney, he cov
ered his thee with his bands, and wept aloud.
"Father," said a soft voice at his side—"dear
father, you are not well. What can Ido for your
" How is this, Grace ?" he answered, almost
sternly, "I thought you were all gone; why are
yon still up at this late hour 7"
"Because I could not go to rest while I know
that you are suffering. Father," she continued,
"1 have watched you and mother all day, and I
know you have some sorrow of heart whirls you are
hiding from us, while it is sinking you to the earth.
May I not know what it is, if I cannot assist, I
may at least have the privilege of bearing it with
While she spoke, Grace Lee had seated herself
on a low bench at her father's feet, and clasping
her hands upon Isis knee, looked up in Isis thee with
ass expression of earnest entreaty that might have
moved a heart of stone. But thriller Lee's heart
was made of no such , material. It was fall of the
milk of human kindness; besides, he dearly bred
the sweet girl whose blue eyes were gazing so ten
derly into his, and had sometimes been tempted to
feel a little proud of Isis "wild tlowpr," as the good
old minister (MCC called her. Ile cleared his throat
therefore, and fondly passing Isis hard smd bony
hand over her shining hair, said mildly, "you are
a good girl, Grace, and a comfort to your parents,
but this is a matter beyond your ability to manage,
and trouble will come soon enough without meet
ing it half way."
" Oh, do not say so, dear father—l am almost
eighteen, and you must not look upon me any lon
ger as a child to be petted and cared for, but a
woman, who is both able and willing to take tier
share of the burdens it may please God to lay upon
.you. Tell me what it is that afflicts you, and do
not fear that it will make use unhappy ; I can bear
anything but to see you miserable, while I am ig
norant of the cause !"
" Child, you know not what you ask—are you
prepared to hear that your father is a beggar—that
we must leave the old homestead--where you were
all born, and where we have been so happy 7" a
choking sensation prevented farmer Lee from pro
ceeding, and Grace slowly repeated, as if mechani
cally—" Leave the old homestead, and for what
Why must we go'?"
You were a child," her father answered, "and
do not remember your uncle Barker. He was in
trouble, and I tried to help him out, but in some
way, before the business was ended, I was obliged
to mortgage my farm for a small sum which could
be raised in no other way. The interest has been
regularly paid until within the last four years, and,
I have always hoped to get together enough to pay
the principal, but some how or other, instead of
this, I have got behind hand, and now the man
who .holds the mortgage threatens to foreclose, sin
less the interest, which amounts to more than two
hundred dollars, is raised immediately, and this is
impossible, as even you must know."
" But your brother—uncle Thomas," said Grace,
eagerly, "he has money enough, will he not help
you in a case like this?"
"Perhaps ho might, but he would want better
security than I can give him; and, moreover, if I
cannot now pay the money on that bond, what rea
son is there to suppose that I could raise it any
better next year to repay your uncle? No, no,
Grace, there is no help for it, and we must bear
it as well as we can, but the hardest part of all, is
the thought of poor Philip, who is doing so well iu
his college studies. Poor fellow, I can do nothing
more for him now, and he must come back and try
what he can do for the rest of you, by keeping
school or in some other way."
During her father's brief narrntion, Grace bad
remained gazing at him, every faculty absorbedin
deep and painful interest, but as he ceased to speak
she started up, and with sparkling eye and glowing
cheek, exclaimed, "Never shall Philip be called
home on such ass errand while I live to prevent it.
I am young and strong, and can find a way of hel
ping you all little as you may believe it. Nay,
hear me," she said, as she saw that her father's
face expressed strong incredulity—"it was only
yesterday that Sarah Carter, who has just returned
from Lowell; told me what high wages some of
the girls earn, who are not older than I, and which
of them do you think would have a dearer object
to work for than I, with the old homestead and
dear Philip before me ?"
A tear had been slowly gathering in farmer Lee's
eye while his daughter spoke, and it fell on her
neck as he kissed her, and replied to her fervent
appeal—"you are too young, Grace, to know how
impossible it is for you to do all that your love for
me dictates—but I thank you for the will, and I
shall never forget it."
" But you surely will not refuse to let me go dear
father. I have been for some time thinkingabout
the factories, and now I ant so certain that I could
help you, and Philip too—it would be cruel to de
ny sue. Mother, will you not plead for me," as
ked the ardent girl, "you know not how my heart
is set smolt this thing."
Mrs. Lee had been apparently intent on some
household duty during the conversation between
her husband mid child, but thus addressed, she took
a step toward Grace, and only replied by inquiring
in a lose voice, "And what do you think Leivis
Dayton will say to such a plan, Grace?" Poor
Grace 1 The blood rushed over cheeks, neck and
brow, at this question, and a convulsive movement
of the lip told that a chord lead been touched to
which every heartstring vibrated—but it was only
for a moment, and then she said rather proudly,
"If Lewis Dayton cares anything about sue, he
will like me the better for doing my duty as a
daughter—and if Isis love cannot stand this test,
it is better to know it now than hereafter."
" Grace is right, wife"—said the farmer more
elseerfidly—"no man deserves our girl who thinks
the less of her fur any kind of honest labor, and
though I have little confidence in her plan of hel
ping her old father, I am swilling she should go and
try her fortune, since she wishes it."
"Now bless you for that wort, dear father. I
am certain of success if I only have your approval
and that of my mother, whatever others think or
It was with great difficulty that Grace obtained
a promise front her father to wait six months be
fore anything was said to Philip about leaving col
lege, but he yielded at last, and through her agen
cy, an arra»gemeut was made with uncle Thomas,
by which the interest was paid up, and the troub
lesome creditor quieted for the present. Farmer
Lee was Certain that it was all nonsense, and that
be was only getting more deeply into trouble by
this respite but it was hard to deny anything& the
favorite child, who had never seemed so dear to
him as now, when she was so soon to leave them.
The pleasant farm on Beech Ilill had been in
the Lee family for two generations, and they were
respected and beloved by all the inhabitants of the
little town of Meredith, in which it was situated.
The news flew swiftly that Grace Lee was about
to leave home, to go 'lnto a factory, and in that
quiet community it occasioned quite an excite
ment. It was not, a few years since, as common
fur the daughters of respectable farmers to enter
the mills for a season, as it uow is, and Grace Lee,
though a hardy mountain maiden had been so much
the household pet, that few imagined how much
quiet energy lay concealed beneath her gentle and
" I always knew that pride must have a fall,"
said Miss Priscilla Jones, whose envy of our sweet
Grace had been nourished until it became an ab
sorbing passion—and who had hastened to the
store of young Mr. Dayton to tell him the news.
"Grace Lee has held her head so high that people
thought she was the only girl in Meredith. I won
der what she will say now, dun' t you, Mr. Dayton?"
The young merclumt only smiled, and said he
presumed the whole affair was a mistake, but it
was nothing to him certainly, what any young lady
thought proper to do. But though he affected
great indifference on the subject, he was far front
*cling it, for he admired the wild flower of Beech
Hill more than Ile would have chosen to confess,
and his attention had been so marked, that neither
Grace nor her parents could misunderstand them.
Bet to marry a factory girl—this, his foolish pride
whispered, was not to be thought of, so he hasten
ed to the house of farmer Lee, to hear the report
contradicted by the lips he loved best. It cannot
be denied, that the heart of the young girl flutter
ed so wildly at his entrance, that she could hardly
speak to bid him welcome, nor that a strange thrill
of pain convulsed it, as he spoke of his surprist at
hearing the rumor of her intended departure. But
it was with a calm brow and firm tone that she as
sured him Ile had heard only truth, and that she
was indeed to leave home for Lowell, perhaps to
be absent for some years. There was no 'nista
king the expression of her lover's thee as she said
this—it gave the death blow to all the hopes she
had unconsciously cherished, and taught her that
henceforth, Lewis Dayton must be to her as a
stranger. After an ineffectual attempt to induce
her to relinquish the ides, and a few common-place
remarks about other things, he took his departure,
leaving Grace in a tumult of contending emotions
among which, gratitude that she had so soon lear
ned the hollowness of his prolOssious, became pre
dominant. "Better now than later," she. said to
herself, while the tears of wounded feeling gushed
from her eyes—"l might in time have loved him
HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1850.
so well, that the discovery of his character would
almost have broken my heart. I have now only
to think of my duty to my parents, and dear, dear
Philip Lee was two years older than Grace, and
though an invalid from childhood, was a young
man of uncommon strength of mind, and loveli
ness of character. }rum his inability to labor on
the farm, it was early decided that, if possible, he
should have an education; and it was the first
wish of 1.3 s heart to become qualified for the gos
pel ministry. By great exertions and self-denial
on his own part, he had succeeded with the little
aid his hither could bestow, in fitting himself to
enter college one year in advance, and the whole
tinnily were looking forward with eager anticipa
tion, to the time when they should listen to his
voice from the sacred desk. To Grace, particu
larly, who idolized her brother, this hope had be
come a part of her own existence, and she felt that
no sacrifice was too great, no labor too severe, to
ensure its accomplishment. But Philip possessed
a portion of her own independence, and she must
conceal her plans and wishes from him, or he
would have refused to profit by her generous af
The day of parting at length came, and accom
panied by her lather, Grace Leo left the beloved
home of her childhood, to enter on the new and
untried scenes that awaited her. All was at first
strange and unpromising, and with a heart sick
ness never before felt, she sought the solitude of
her own apartment, that she might weep without
restraint. But she was young m u d hopeful, and
the morning brought happier thoughts and renew
ed courage, for was she not there to help those
who were dearer to her than life itself—and would
of this alone make every thing tolerable and even
pleasant 4 It certainly was so, for the light of love
shone on every object around her, gilding with its
own radiant hues the monotonous labor iu which
she was engaged—and making even the ceaseless
hum of the machinery sweeter music to her ears
than the warbling of the songsters in her own na
tive groves. It was important fur her to secure
high wages, and she did so, but not even for this
would oho negl e ct the cultivation of her mind, in
the few leisure hours she might call her own.—
Her little room was a sacred spot, where order and
neatness presided, and carefully-tended flowers,
well chosen hooks, and a good collection of music,
I spoke the taste and refinement of its occupant.—
Without in the least neglecting her daily duties,.
she was enabled, by a judicious improvement of
time, in attending lectures, and folloiving a course
of reading, to acquire an amount of useful know
ledge, fir exceeding that of many a young lady
who has spent years at a fashionable boarding
school. Her manners, too, though perfectly sith
pie and unaffected, were graceful and dignified,
and no one could look on her sweet thee, through
which heart mid mind were ever speaking, without
a feeling of deep interest and involuntary admira-
Four years had now passed away since Grace
Lee became an inhabitant of Lowell—and in that
time, the mortgage on the "home farm" had been
paid off by her, and her father now sat in his ac
customed nook, with the glad consciousness that
the inheritance whirls had descended to him, would
go down to his children, unnumbered by a single
debt. Besides this, Philip had been compelled,
by her sisterly affection, to accept of her assistance
in his course of study, and was now, thanks to her
generosity, a licensed minister, looked np to by all
who knew him, as a young man of more than or
dinary promise. Once a year site visited, for a
few short days, the dear spot where her affections
were garnered, and it always seemed to the house
hold, after her departure, as if the sun shone less
brightly than usual, when they missed the light of
her smile and the music of her voice from their
But now the farmer and his wife were growing
old, and could no longer spare her, and on the
next Sabbath her brother was to preach for the
first time, in the old church of Meredith, so Grace
Leo bade farewell to the spot endeared to her by
easy recollections, and at the close of a bright
summer day, found herself once more amid her
earliest and dearest friends, under the paternal
roof from which she had so long been au exile.—
It was a happy circle that surrounded the family
altar that night, and as the young clergyman, in
a deep, rich voice, that trembled with emotion,
thanked God fbr the way in which he had led them,
and above all, for the safe return of her whom he
• had tussle the Messenger of mercy to her father's
house, Grace felt that such a moment snore than
repaid her for all the sacrifices she had made.
"Grace," said a younger brother to her, a few
days after her return—" Mr. Dayton doesn't dare
to look you in the face, though I saw him steal a
glance when he thought no ono was observing him.
Poor man—his wife is anything hut a treasure, if
report speaks truth, and if he did not sell rum to
make money, he would have to shut up his store.
How glad I um that you did not have him—but
aro you really going to he an old maid?"
Before the quick bluish that crimsoned the cheek
of our heroine, at this simple question, had subsi
ded, Philip exclaimed with a smile
must not divulo the secrets of the confes
sional, but if common fame speaks truly, a certain
manufacturer, whose wealth is his least recommen
dation, is about to visit Beech Hill on a special
errand. Our dear Grace has performed her part
so admirably, 'in his mill, that he wishes to try
her services as a house-keeper. Is it not so, my
"Never maul, said the fund ththor, who saw
her embarrassment, "what common fume says.—
Hear the voice of experience, while 1 say, that the
woman who as a daughter tad sister, has, like our
own Grace, been dutiful, affectionate, and self
sacrificing, will certainly; whatever her station in
life, make a virtuous and excellent with."
THE EMPTY CRADLE.
"The mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she'd find them all again
In the fields of light above."
The death of a little child is to the mother's
heart like dew on a plant from which a bud has
perished. The plant lifts up its head in freshened
greenness to the morning light; so the mother's
soul gathers from the dark sorrow through which
she has passed, a fresh brightening of her heaven
ly hopes. •
As she bends over the empty cradle, and in fan
cy brings her sweet infant before her, a ray of di
vine light is on the cherub face. It is her son
still, but with the seal of immortality on his brow.
She feels that heaven was the only atmosphere
where her precious flower could unfold without
spot or blemish, and she would not recall the lost.
But the anniversary of his departure seems to
bring his spiritual presence near her. She indul
ges in that tender grief which soothes like an opi
ate in lain, all her passages and cares of
The world to her is no longer full of love and
hope—in the future, so glorious with heavenly
love and joy, she has treasures of happiness which
the worldly unehastened heart never conceived.
The bright fresh flowers with which she has de
corated her room, the apartment where her infant
died, are emblems of the far brighter hopes now
dawning on her day dream. She thinks of the
glory and beauty of the sew Jerusalem, where the
little foot will never find a thorn among the flow
ers to render a shoe necessary. Nor will a pillow
he wanting for the dear head reposing on the breast
of a kind Saviour. And she knows her infant is
there, in that world of eternal bliss. She has
marked one passage in that book—to her emphat
ically the Word of Life—now lying closed on the
toilette table, which she daily reads :—"Sutler lit
tle children to come unto me, and forbid themnot,
for of such is the kingdom of heaven."
"What do Men Fight For 1"
"What (to men fight for ?" said a little girl, in
our bearing, after reading an account of a bloody
battle. Alas! that question has puzzled many a
wiser head than the little child's. What they get
by fighting, we more readily perceive. Misery and
death, crime and debt, arc as constant attendants
upon war, as vultures and beasts of prey upon the
One of the most remarkable illustrations of
what - men get by lighting, that can he found in the
world's history, is seen in the case of the Hessians
used by England in the revolutionary war. Their
Elector sold them to England for a price. They
were dragged from their homes and families, and
sent thousands of miles to murder a people of whom
they had scarcely ever heard or thought. During
the war they suffered the utmost extent of misery.
On their marches they resembles! gangs of beg
gars, rather than troops of soldiers. The sword
and disease rapidly decimates! their numbers, stud
lost few of theist ever returned to their native land.
What did they get by their sufferings? Wherein
was their country benefitted by their death, and
the misery entailed upon their families?
Near Cassell, in Germany, there is pointed out
to the traveller, a palace of the Elector. The
grounds are ornamented with an artificial cascade,
and on the summit of the hill is a huge image,
called Hercules. This monstrous figure is solarge
that eight men can stand upon the club with which
he is armed. And this is what the Hessians got by
fighting aytinst our forefathers! This mass-fed
monster was built with the money paid by Eng
land to the Elector for their services. Thousands
of men were torn from their native lasts!, and sent
to fight and die in America, that a senseless image
might be raised upon a hill! Was there ever a
more fitting emblem of the results of war? And
are not the nations of the earth, to a greater or less
extent, worshiping that image to-day t Verily,
Juggernaut is not the only idol that crushes its
devotees beneath its tread.
A Cure for a bad Temper.
A cheerful temper—not occasionally, but habit
ually cheerful—is a. quality which no wise man
would be willing to dispense with in choosing a
wife, is like a good fire in winter, diffusive and
genial its influence, and always approached with a
confidence that it will comfort end do good. Atten
tion health is one great means of maintaining this
excellence unimpaired, and attention to household
affairs is another. The state of body which wom
en call billions is most inimical to habitual cheer
fulness and that which girls call having nothing to
do, but which I cull idleness, is equally so. 1 have
always strongly recommended exercise in domes
tic usefulness, which, without superceding that in
the open air, is highly beneficial to the health both
of mind and body, inasmuch as it adds to other
benefits, the happiest of all sensations, that of hav
ing rendered some assistance or done some good.
Let me entreat my young readers, if they ever
feel a tendency to causeless melancholy, if they aro
aided with cold feet and headache; but above
nil with impatience and irritability, so that they
can scarcely make a pleasant reply when spoken
to, let me entreat them to make a trial of the sys
tem I am recommending, not simply to run into
the kitchen and trifle with the servants, but set
about doing something that will add to the gener
al comfort of the funnily, and that will at the same
time relieve some member of flint family of a por
tion of daily toil. I fear it is a very romantic con
clusion to come to, but my firm conviction is, that
half the miseries of young women, and half their
ill tempers, might be avoided by habits of domes
Rousseau says : "The empire of woman is
an empire of softness, of address, of complacency.
Her commands are caresses, her menaces are tears.'
7 , 7 41 A, r
AN AFFECTING STORY.
Truth Stranger than Fiction.
The Faris correspondent of the St. Louis Re
publican relates the following :
A young man recently made his escape from the
galleys at Toulouse. Be was strong and vigorous
and soon made his way across the country, and es
' wiped pursuit. Ile arrived next morning before a
cottage in an often field, and stopped to beg some
' thing to eat and concealment while he reposed a
little. But he found the inmates in the greatest
distress. Four little children sat trembling in a
corner, their mother was weeping and tearing her
hair, and the father walking the floor in agony.—
The galley slave asked what was the matter, and
the father replied that they were that morning to
be turned out of doors, because they could not pay
"You see me driven to despair," said the father,
"my wife and children without food and shelter,
and without the means to provide any for them."
The tender-hearted convict listened to the tale
with tears of sympathy.
"I will give you the means. I have but just
e scaped from the galleys; whoever secures and
takes back an escaped prisoner is entitled to a re
ward of fifty francs. How much does your rent
amount to 1"
"Forty francs," answered the father.
"Well," said the convict," put a cord around
my body; I will follow you to the city, they will
recognize mo, and you will get fifty francs for
bringing me back."
"No, never," exclaimed the astonished listener.
"My children should starve a dozen times before
I world do so base a thing."
The generous young man insisted, and declared
at last that he would go and give himself up, if
the father would not consent to take him. After
a long struggle the latter yielded, and taking his
preserver by the arm, led him to the city and to
the mayor's office. Every body was surprised
that a little man like the father had been able to
capture such a strong young man, but the proof
ras before them. The fifty francs were paid, and
misoner sent back to the galleys.
But after be was gone, the father asked aprivate
nterview with the Mayor, to whom he told the
whole story. The Mayor was so much affected,
lint he not only added fifty francs more to the
'iler's purse, but wrote immediately to the min
'ter of justice, begging the noble young prison
,r's release. The minister examined into the af-
and finding that it was comparatively a small
offence which condemned the young man to the
galleys, and that he had already served out half
his time, he ordered his release.
A Hoosier in Boston.
The Editor of the Cincinnati Enquirer, writing
from Boston, tells the following story: Western
folks feel in this city as though in a strait waiscoat
for their personal beauty is so hedged in, that free
dom of action is gone. Those addicted to smoking
especially feel twice the desire to prominatle the
streets, cigar in mouth, from the bare fact that the
enemies of the fragrant weed have forbid its awe in
the streets of Boston. I heard an excellent anec
dote of the adventures of alive Hoosier in this city
which illustrates the municipal regulations of this
mummy dissecting city, better than a book. Af
ter a few steps a policeman tapped him on the
shoulder and informed him that the penalty was
two dollars for the offence of smoking. Ile prompt
ly pulled out a five dollar bill and received a three
in change. Proceeding on his walk, he next met
a beggar girl who asked for something to eat.—
Recollecting that he had the remains of a hunk of
gingerbread, the peculiar diet of Hoosierland, in
his pocket, he generously proffered it to the mendi
cant. Again he was tapped on the shoulder by the
policeman, and it was against the laws of Boston
to give away offal, as it belonged to the city, and
requested two dollars for his grave offence. The
three dollar bill was drawn out, and when the po
liceman tendered one in change, it was refused by
the Hoosier with the cool remark, "tio keep it, I
shall want to whistle in a few minutes."
Death In a Family.
The St. Louis Intelligencer ofa late date relates
the following sad story :
A family called Kautfmann, consisting of five
members, part of whom reached this city last week
have all, with the exception of one, been swept into
eternity since leaving their home in Germany, a
period of about fifty or sixty days. As they em
barked at Havre for this country, an older son who
had just finished his education for the practice of
medicine fell overboard and was drowned. Three
or four weeks after, as the vessel nearest New Or
leans, the father, Mr. Philip Kutfinan, fell a victim
to ship fever. The mother, almost heart-broken
immediately on reaching the city, brought her
youngest son a boy 12 years of age, to the hospi
tal laboring under the same disease, and the day
following she turd a young daughter, the only sur
viving child, accompanied his remains to the cem
etery. Three weeks only elapsed, and the two
had got to this city, when the fell destroyer again
'nude his appearance. The mother expired last
Saturday of a violent typhoid fever, induced and
much aggravated, it is believed, by her sorrows.
A little girl, five or six years of age, homeless and
penniless, is all that there is now left of the family.
A Mr. Lutnsden, a worthy mechanic, has adopted
the child and intends, we learn, to raise it us ono
of his own. His course does him honor, and is in
deed worthy of imitation.
la — A fellow, while voraciously devouring a
piece of cheese belonging to a friend, kept declar
ing continually that he didn't like it.
"- One would suppose so," his friend replied
"seeing how you run it down."
VOL. XV.--NO. 40.
Yankee Doodle with Variations.
We hare a young lady acquaintance, who is a
very fine performer on the piano. Calling at her
house the other afternoon for a few minutes, she
entertained us with a few favorite pieces, together
with two or three of the most admired songs of
the dm•. While in the midst of her musical efforts,
a tall young Kentackiaa, who had just made his
egress from the "barrens" where he was bora and
raised, chanced to saunter along the street, and
charmed whit the novel music, but rather unin
formed as to the conventional rules of city society,
approached the parlor window, and, with eyes di
lated, and mouth extended, stood there enraptured,
whne she snag.—
"Give men cot in the valley I love."
"Are von fond of music?" inquired the lady,
wile tun relish n bit of sport.
"Well, I am, that very thing," said the blunt
"Do you play 7" asked our friend in a quizzical
"I can play right smart of tunes on the fife,"
said the countryman, "hut - rue, if I ever saw
any body play a bureau before:"
"This is what we call a piano, sir," said the per
former; "did you never hear of such an instru
"No, sir-ce !" said Hentuck, "there's no such
critters in our parts as that, but it makes mighty
nice kind o' music! Can you play Yankee Doo
dle on the machine?" said he, suddenly, and with
much earnestness of manner.
The lady answered in the affirmative, and this
popular national air, with variations, was perform
ed in truly artistic style. Bat the uncultivated
ear of the rustic could hardly discover, through the
"variations," a single strain of his much-loved
tune, and at the close of the piece, he exclaimed,
"Is that Yankee Doodle'?"
"Yes, sir, that is Yankee Doodle with the earl.
"Well!" ejaculated Kentuck, thrusting each
hand in a pocket preparatory to a start, "that may
do for yon city folks, but give me the naked doodle."
And off he went.
The Power of Temptation,
Temptation is n flattering evil, to which the fuol 7
ish are inclined to yield. It is this foe to purity
and peace that rules with diversified tyranny over
all classes of mankind. Some it arrogantly com
pels; others it with blandishments beguiles; some
it captures by surprise ; and others it rules with
false shame or slavish fear. But why, under all
its forms, is temptation a power so strong 1 Be
cause it is congenial with their sinful nature on
which everywhere it act,. "Watch and pray, lest
ye enter into temptation, - were °among the Sav
iour's last words to his disciples. The heart must
be perpetually fortified by wise counsel and high
moral principle, or it will inevitably submit to the
invasion of the vilest foes. The smallest sin, when
indulged, acts the part of n little thief who opens
by stealth the doors of the soul to the whole mul
titude of grosser accomplices.
A committee of eight gentlemen had appointed
to meet at 12 o'clock. Seven at' them were punc
tual; but the eighth came bustling in with apolo
gies for being a unarter of an hour behind time.—
"The time," said he, "passed away without my
being aware of it. I had no idea of its being so
late," A Quaker present said, "Friend, lam
not stare that we should admit thy apology. It
were matter of regret that thou shouldst have
wasted thine own quarter of an hour; but there
are seven besides thyself, whose time thou hest also
consumed, amounting in the whole to two hours,
and one-eighth of it only was thine own property."
EARLY RISING.- 4 Mr. Smithery, bow can yon
slceep so? The sun has been up these two hours."
"Well what if he has? (hiccup.) He goes to bed
at dark, while on a bender till midnight, (hic
cup.) People talk about the sun's being so smart,
(hiccup.) I should like to see him shine so late in
the evening as I do, 1 world—(hiccup.) He can't
keep awake till 9 o'clock if his life depended on it
--(hiccup.) People say, look at the sun! and I
say the saute t but it's all my old man's son—(hic
cup.") It's me they ought to look at—a sun that's
to be found in his orbit as long as the clutches are"
—(hiccup.) Here Smithers fell back on the &tit
cry and took another nap.
gig-1n the canton of Basle, in Switzerland, there
is alaw which compels every newly-married couple
to plant six trees immediately after the ceremony,
and two more on the birth of every child. They
are planted on conunons, frequently near the high
road, and the greater part of them, being fruit trees
are at once both useful and ornamental. The num
ber planted is said to amount to 10,000 annually.
CZ - Judge Thompson, of Worchester, Mass.,
being unable to attend the citizen's celebration of
Fitchburg, as an invited guest, sent the following
" The only tolerable form of Slavery—that
where one woman holds captive one man—in which
the victim not only hugs his chain, but the little
tyrant that rivets it."
'The town of St. Paul's the present capital
of Minesota, which three years ago had no exis
tence, now has a population of upwards of 1500.
No place in the Western country is said to hold
out greater inducements to farmers than the fer
tile plains of Minnesota—the soil being extremely
rich the crops always heavy.
Fentinolle was told that coffee was a slow
poison. "Very slow, indeed," he replied, "for it
has been eighty years in killing Inc."
A new daily paper is talked of at Washin/-
ton City, to advocate the claims of Thomas Pr.
Penton for President.