BY JAS. CLARK.
From Graham's Afagasine.
SABBATH EVENING.
DT GEORGE D. PRENTICE.
'2 is holy time. The evening shade
Steals with a soft control
O'er nature, as a thought of heaven
Steals o'er the human soul;
And every ray from yonder blue,
And every drop of falling dew,
Seem to bring down to human woos
From heaven a message of repose.
O'er yon tall rock the solemn trees,
A shadowy group, incline
Like gentle nuns in sorrow bowed
Around their holy shrine;
And o'er them now the night winds blow
So calm and still, the music low
Seems the mysterious voice of prayer
Soft-echoed on the evening air.
The mists, like incense from the earth
Rise to a God beloved,
And o'er the Waters move as erst
The Holy Spirit moved;
The torrent's voice, the wave's low hymn
Seem the far notes of seraphim,
And all earth's thousand voices raise
Their song of worship, love and praise.
The gentle sisterhood of flowers
Bend low their lovely eyes,
Or gaze through trembling tears of dew
Up to the holy skies;
Aud the pure stars come out above
Like sweet and blessed things of love,
Bright signals in the eternal dome
To guide the parted spirit home.
There is a spell of blessedness
In air, and earth, and heaven,
And nature wears the blessed look
Of a young saint forgiven ;
Oh, who, at such an hour of love,
Can gaze on all around, above,
-And not kneel down upon the sod
With Nature's self to worship God!
Henry Clay.
Lord Morpeth, after visiting the United States,
recently delivered a lecture in England, from,
which we make the following extract:—
" I heard Mr. Clay in the Senate once, but
every one told me that ho was laboring under
feebleness and exhaustion, so that I could only
perceive the great charm in the tones of his voice.
I think this most attractive quality was still more
perceivable, in private intercourse, and I certainly
never met any public man, either in his country
or mine, always excepting Mr. Cunning, who ex
ercised such evident fascination over the minds
and affections of his friends and followers as
Henry Clay. I thought his society most attract
ive, easy, simple and genial, with great natural
dignity. If his countrymen made better men
Presidents, I should applaud their virtue in resis
ting the spell of his eloquence and attractions;
but when the actual list is considered, my respect
for the discernment elicited by universal suffrage
does not stand at a high point."
Born to Fortune.
how many of us grieve that such was not our
auspicious advent M the world. "If I had only
inherited such a fortune, how much good I would
have done with it! how I would have enjoyed
life !" Perhaps so; but none of us can be very
certain on this point. Riches harden and corrupt
the heart. Men are too often good only for their
own welfare ; and wealth would often divest them
of their motive for a proper course of life.
We were lately in conversation with and abler
)) gentleman who has lived a good life, and is
reaping its just reward. Another who looked older
than our friend, approached us ; ho was a misera
ble looking object, bent down, and in rags. He
appeared grateful fur the recognition he received,
and we think he received aid from the hand of our
friend, who remarked, as the poor fellow passed
on, that he had known him long. " When I was
• boy," said he, "I played truant once, and went
with other lads to the race course. That man was
then a youth. He was richly dressed, and seated
upon a tine and handsomely caparisoned horse,
while behind him rode his servant in livery, who,
with his hand to his hat,endeavored to anticipate
every wish of Isis young master, and occasionally
held Isis horse when the young gentleman entered
a booth to venture Isis money upon the games of
chance that were conducted there. The rest of
ns envied him and thought how happy we should
be were we only in Isis position. He is now grate
ful fur a sign of recognition from me."
Does the reader know of no such instances as
this? Does he not see around him men who were
once for above him in their condition in life?—
Has he not looked upon the graves of many poor
fallen creatures who in childhood he envied? And
yet how many who have it in their power to edu
cate aright, intellectually and religiously, the chil
dren of their love, are neglecting this, and seek
ing only to render them rich enough to excite the
admiration or the envy of their companions in
the journey of life !
Curing Colds.
Of all means, fasting is the most effectual. Eat
nothing whatever for two days, and the cold will
be gone, provided you are not confined to the bed ;
because by taking no carbon into the system by
food, by consuming that surplus which caused the
disease by breath, you soon carry oft' the disease
by removing the cause. And.this plan of fasting
wilkba found more effectual if you add copious
water drinkiag to protracnvi fasting.
Tv‘irttinqbon
Tribute to Daniel Webster.
The Rev. Dr. SPRAGUE, of Albany, N. Y., in
September last, delivered an AddreFs before the
Phi Beta Kappa Society of Bowdein College, Maine
on the "Perpetuity of Intellectual Influence," which
is pronounced by such able journals as the Nation
al Intelligencer as being "able, learned and elo
quent," and adding "much to the already exalted
reputation of this distinguished scholar and divine."
In this address, Dr. Sprague pays a just and elo
quent tribute to DANIEL WERSTER. He says :
"If I were to select from the whole intellectual
nobility of the present day one whose influence,
especially as a statesman, furnishes as apt an illus
tration of my subject as any other, I should have
no occasion to look beyond New England; and
the name to which I refer has already become so
much the property of history that delicacy does
not forbid me to allude to it; while yet it is so
much a household word that necessity hardly re
quires that I should pronounce it. That illustri
ous man, nearly half a century ago, was hard at
work at a neighboring college in the cultivation of
his intellect; and he has been hard at work, al
most ever since, for the welfare of his country. I
speak not of the distinctive hue aids political
opinions, or of any particular position he may at
any time have assumed; but, overlooking' all par
ty distinctions, I speak of him as an earnest, hon
est, far-seeing patriot; a man of wisdom and a
man of might; great as truly in repose as in ac
tion; in thoughtful moderation as in resistless
power. I honor him as fit to be a balance-wheel
in our political mechanism, which shall give to each
and every part of it a steady, safe, and effective
operation. I honor him as one who has more than
once shown himself able to stand up in serene gran
deur, amidst warring elements, and to snake Isis
voice beard above the loudest swell of the storm,
declaring for his country his whole country, forev
er. I honor him as one who has given additional
value to the privilege of being an American, and
whose name we have only to speak to rebut many
of the paltry calumnies of other nations. There
have been periods in our history when ail parties
have united in a tribute of homage to. his public
character; and even when lie has appeared on else
arena of political conflict, and mingled in the hot
test of the fight, he has never stood in so much
as an equivocal attitude in respect to either digni
ty or integrity ; and his very adversaries have felt
constrained to do him honor. Ms vocation has
been that of a statesman ; anti there his influence
.d Isis honor have cheifly centered; and yet lie
has occasionally brought an offering to the cause
of literature, which has given him a place among
her most renowned benefactors. The productions
of his pen, distinguished alike by chaste simplici
ty and rugged strength, may fairly challenge com
parison wills the most classic production of anti
quity. His thoughts are like a chain of diamonds
and his style like a crystal stream. Even Plym
outh Rock and Bunker Rill have been invested
with new attractions by the power of his eloquence ;
and as long as the ono stands a witness for reli
gious freedom, and the other a witness for civil
freedom, each will be a witness also to else majes
ty of Isis intellect. Yes, he will live on through
all coming time ; will live a continually brighter
and stronger and more widely diffused life. And
if the State where lie was born and nurtured, or
the State in which most of his public life has been
passed, should venture an attempt to monopolize
his fame, or hereafter to build Isis monument, Isis
country, would cry out that he belonged to her;
else world would cry out he belonged to her ; and
those universal claims would be echoed and ill
echoed by each passing generation."
Such a tribute from a gentlemen of Dr. Sl'ltAGl,E's
learning, piety and Chistain patriuti , ,, cannot fail
to have its just influence upon all candid and so
ber-minded men.
linpulse.
Men who arc called impulsive. aro much slan
dered. Are not the most noble, generous actions
which adorn the annals of the world, referable to
this agent 1 Reason is even exalted above im
pulse ! Is it not often opposed to faith, and does
it not lead to the most dangerous errors ! So
fur as the boundaries of our experience extend,
warm impulse has prompted more good deeds
than cold reasons. We would sooner trust that
man, in whose breast glows the fire of enthusi
asm, than ho who, cool and collected at all times,
seldom acts without suspicion, and often deliber
ates till the hour of advantage has passed. Faults
committed withoin reflection are certainly not
more venial than premediated sin.—He who errs
hastily repents sincerely, but the wrong done up
on calculation is never willingly repaired. Even
when productive of harm, it is unselfish, and the
consequence to which it leads are hurtful to no
one so much as to its possessor. Pity is no stran
ger to the impulsive man, and not seldom do the
tears of sympathy full from his eyes.—To friend
ship he is faithful, and fur love he would sacrifice
both interest and worldly esteem. Let us be com
passionate, therefore, to the errors of impulse
' while we respect the calm dictates of caution and
prudence.
Begin Right.
Are you stepping on the threshold of life? Se
cure a good moral character. Without virtue
you cannot be respected; without integrity you
can never rise to distinction and honor. You arc
poor, perhaps. No matter: poverty is oftener a
blessing than a curse. Look at the young :nail
who is worth half a million. What is his stand
ing? Of what use is he to the world?
t a-If the Spring put forth no blossoms, in
Summer there will be no beauty, and in Autumn
no fruit—so, if youth be trifled away, without im
provement, riper years will be , rontemptible, and
old age miserable.
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 1851.
Inch and Poor---Education.
The rich have nnmerous advantages over the
poor, if they knew holy to Make Use of thern.
Butnecessity does for the poor man what she
never does for the rich; and compensates for ma
ny of the privations that poverty ethisplains of. A
young nobleman or gentleman is horn and reared ,
in a university. His father's home id a school in
which his mind is trained from infancy. Ile sees
the best society, he hears the best language spo- •
ken, his' earis familiar with the finest Music, and
his eye is habituated to the mast beautiful speci
mens of sculpture and painting, furniture and
decorations; whilst fashion, with her plastic hand,
with infinite ease, gives the tone and character of •
the times to his pliant mind: Yet how very few
rich men, or men of rank, are mess of original ge
nius, notwithstanding all their advantanges or ac
quirements ! If the rich man's education were •
really the best adapted for cultivating the human
mind, the poor man would be entirely superse
ded ; he would have no chance at all amid such
ass array of educated and accomplished gentle
men. And yet, when Mother Nature does bring
forth a great and original mind to think for the
world, to lead and correct its taste in art, or pro
mote its progress in science, to write its history,
to-compose its songs, to receive and transcribe
the inspiration of the epic or dramatic muse—it is
from the lowly ranks that that genius springs up,
and poverty is thus, more frequently than wealth,
invested with the apostleship of teaching the
world. In religion, poverty has always taken the
lead. The fishermen of Galilee have laid the
foundations of Christendom, and the greatest of
their successors have sprung from the ranks of
penury. Philosophers have in general ascended
to distinction from the lowest or middle ranks.—
They are, like Socrates, thinkers, wise have
sprung the mine of thought in their own • intellee
tual and spiritual natures—men 'vim have Oahe
rate doctrines and theorie§, analyzed abstractions,
and pursued phantasms, mulecoyed and unseals
, ced by the gullies of life, and the alittrements of
passion; or, hampered by poverty, have beets un
able to indnlgc those appeti•teefor transient
ure which wouldhave destroyed their intellectual
distinction, and buried them, unknown to fame,
among the vulgar throng. Such melamake amends
for want of outward traveling and sightseeing, by
travelling inwardly, for want of that stern necessity
which arises from solitude and monotomy, and can
rarely be experienced ir,,the midst of interesting
s vicissitudes andsensual excitement. The poets of
the heart, also, are, with few exceptions, men of
humble origin - . High and fashionable life is is no
s means adapted for the cultivation of poetic talents.
It sittracdons are TOO initheTOOS, its bathe toe :Oil
• finial, its manners too dissipated. It may occasion
. ally produce a sonnet or an ode of exquisite taste
and rare wit, strikingly significant to the little
circle of fashonable life. But its sphere is too
I smaltfor humanity at large.
Recreation.
Men need, .and will have, SODIC kind of recrea
tion. The body was not made for constant
toil—
the mind was not made for constant study. God
bus not ordained that life shall be spent in one
contintted.series of efforts to secure the things of
this world. Be' bus fitted man fur enjoyment, as
well us labor, and made him susceptible of :pleas
urable emotions. lie did not design him Mr a
slave, to dig the earth awhile and die—to tail on
until the hour of death comes to conduct a shat
tered system back to dust and ashes. Ott the
other band he has given him et physical system
which, like the hurp, may be touched to any tune.
Ile has made the eye, the ear, the mouth, all in
lets of pleasure. Ile has constituted us, that we
may be wooed up to the highest degree of pleas
ure, and receive through the medium of the set-
ses, a flood of happiness. Beside this, he has ar
ranged the outward world in such a manner as to
give to mm the highest-enjoyment. llad God
designed man for ceaseless labor, he would not
have given hint such a body us he now possess
es; ho would have darkened the eye, deadened
the car, and blunted all the nicer sensibilities,
and made the hand as hard as iron, and the Mot
as insensible.. brass. But ~ , 'mod fur enjoyment,
we find men seeking it. Alwr the labor of the
day is over, and the toil of biC is dune, they tern
to every quarter to find some source of recreation,
some avenue of life which is'fragant with flowers,
and which echoes with sweet music. Now this
desire fur recreation, instead of being quenched,
should be controlled and directed; instead of be
ing totally discouraged, it should be turned into
pure and holy channels, and made to result in the
good of mat and glory of God.—D. C. Eddy.
Dry Feet.
We will give our readers a receipt for making
boots water proof, which is worth more then our
subscription price to any person who will try it.—
Moisture generally penetrates the soles of boots—
the uppper leather is not easily wet and is easily
dried. To render the solo impervious to water,
order your boot-maker tc. cut pieces of canvass in
the proper shape, dip them in incited pitch or tar,
and lay them upon the inner souls bethre putting
on the outer soles of the boots. This simple pro
cess will insure dry fret without 'making the boot
clumsy. We have tried the experiMent, and would
advise ell whose soles are affected with cold or
dampness to do the same.—Yiinkcs Blade.
GOOD MANNERS..—It is a vulgar notion that po
liteness is only required towards superiors. But
the truth is, that every man ought to regard his
fellow man or friend, as his superior, and trent him
as such. Such feelings the real gentle., u l
ways has. "Let each esteem others better than
himself,' says an Apostle. This is the rery soul
of good manners.
THE WOLF-CHASE.
BY WHITEHEAD.
During the winter of 1844, being engaged in the
northern part of Maine, I had much leisure to de
vote to the wild sports of a new country. To none
of these was I more passionately addicted than to
skating. The deep and sequestered lakes of this
State, frozen by the intense cold of a northern
winter, present a wide field to the lovers of this
pas-time. Often would I bind on my skates, and
glide away up the glittering river, and wind each
mazy streandet that flowed beneath its fetters on
towards the parent ocean, forgetting all the while
time and distance is the luxurionS sense of the gli
ding motion—thinking of nothing in the easy flight
but rather dreaming, as I looked through the
transparent ice at the long weeds and eresses that
nodded in the current beneath, and seemed wrest
ling with the waves to let them go; or I would
follow on the track of some fox or otter, and run
my skate along the mark he had left with his drag
ging tail until the trail entered the woods. Some
times these excursions were made by moonlight,
and it was on one of these occasions that I had a
rencounter, which even now, with kind fitces
around me, I cannot recall without a nervous look
ing -over my shoulder *cling.
I had left my friend's house one evening just be
fore dusk, with the intention of skatinga short dis
tance up the noble Kennebec, Which glided direct
ly before the door. The night was beautifully
clear. A periless moon rolled through an occa
sional fleecy cloud, and stares twinkled from the
sky and from every frost, covered tree in millions. •
Your mind wodfil l iittiniler at the light that came
glit'ring from ice, and snow-wreath, and incrusted
branches, as the eye followed for miles the t,road
gleam of the Kennebec, that like a jewelled zone
swept between the mighty lbrests on its banks.—
And yet all was still. The cold seemed to have
frozen tree and air, .and every living thing that
moved. Even the ringing of my skates on the ice
echoed buck from the Moccasin llill with a start
ling clearness, and the crackle of the ice as I mis
sed it in my course. seemed to follow the tide of
the river with lightning speed.
1 had gone up tho river nearly two miles, when
coming to a little stream which empties into the
huger, 1 Lulu,' in to explore its course. Fir and
hemlock of a .century's growth met overhead, and
formed an archway radiant with frost-work. .All
was dark within, but I was young and fearless, and
as I peered into an unbroken, forest that reared it
self on the borders of the stream, I laughed with
very joyousness; my wild burnt rang through the
silent woods, and I stout listening to the echo that
reverberated again and again, until all seas hushed.
thought bow often the Indian hunter had con
cealed himself behind these very trees—how often
his arrow had pierced the deer by this very stream
nut his wild halloo had here rung for his victory.
And then, turning from fancy to reality, I watched
a couple of white owls, that sat in their hooded
state, with ruffled pantalets and long ear-tabs de.
bating in i•iient eicielitve the atiltirs of their frozen
realm, :aid wondering' if they, "for.nll their feath
era were n-cold," when suddenly a cry arose—it
se , tied to me to come front beneath the ice—it
sounded low ,nil t ',unions at first, until it ended
itt one wild yell, 1 sons appalled. Never before
tool such a noise Inid toy cprs, 1 thought it more
than mortal—so tierce, antiamid such an unbroken
solitude, it seemed as if it, fiend had blown a blast
from am infernal trumpet. Presently 1 heard the
twigs on shore snap, as if from the tread of some
;t unnel, and %1., blood coshed back to my Michela]
with u hound that made tpy skin burn, mall felt
relieved that I had to contend with things earth•
ly, and not of spiritual nature—my energiws,rotur
ned, and 1 looked aryund Mr sumo Means of es
cape. The moon shone through the opening at
the mouth of the creek by which I had entered the
forest, and considering this the tel means or es
cape, 1 darted toward it like an arrow, 'Twits
hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow
could scarcely excel my desperate flight; yet as 1
turned toy head to the shore, 1 could see two dark
objects dashing through the underbush at a pace
nearly double in speed to my own. By this great
speed, and the short yells which they occasionally
gave, I knew at once that these were tho much
dreaded gray wolf.
1 had never met with these animals, but from
the description given of them, 1 hail but little
pleasure in making their acquaintance. Their nn
tameable fierceness, and the untireing strength
which seems part of their nature render them ob
jects of dread to every benighted traveller.
" With their long gallop, which can tire
The deer hound's hate, the hunter's fire"
they pursue their prey—never straying from the
te, ,f their victim—and as the weariest hunter
thinks he has at last outstripped them, he finds
that they bat waited the the evening to seize their
prey, and fiats a prize to the tireless animals.
The hushes that shined the shore flew past with
the velocity of lightning as I dashed on in my
flight to pass the narrow opening. The outlet was
nearly Oiled ; one second inure I would be com
paratively safe, when my pursuers appeared' on
ihe bank directly above no, which here rose to
the height of ten. feet. There was no time to be
lost, so I bent my line! and dashed madly for
ward. The wolves sprang, but miscalculating my
'Teed, sprang behind, while their intended prey
glided out upon the river.
Nature turned me towards home. The light
flakes of snow.epun from the iron of my skates,
and 1 seas some distance from my pursuers, when
their tierce howl told me I was still their fugitive.
I did not look back; I did not feel afraid, or Sot ,
ry, or glad; one thought of home, of the bright
these awaiting my return, of their tears if they
never should see me, and: then every energy of
_ .
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,
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body and mind waa e;:erted for escape. I was
perfectly et home on the ice. Many were the
days that I bad spent on My good skates, never
thinking that at one time they would be my only
means of safety. Every half minute an alternate
yelp from my tierm attendants made me but too
certain that they were in close pursuit. Nearer
and 'nearer they came ; I heard their feet patter
ing on the ice nearer still, until I could feel their
breath and hear their snuffing scent. Every nerve
and muscle in my frame was stretched to the ut
most tension.
The trees along the shore scented to dance in
the uncertain light, and my brain turned with my
own breathless speed, yet still they seemed to hiss
forth their breath with a sound truly horrible,
when an involuntary motion on my part turned
me out of my course. The wolves close behind,
unable to stop, and as unable to turn on the
smooth ice, slipped and fell, still going on fur
ahead; their tongues were lolling out, their white
tusks glaring from their bloody mouths, their dark,
shaggy breasts were fleeced with foam, and as they
passed me, their eyes glared, and they howled
with fury. The thought flashed on my mind,
that by this means I could avoid them, viz : by tur
ning aside whenever they came too near; for
they, by the formation of their feet, are unable
to run on ice, except on a straight line.
I immediately acted upon this plan. The
wolves having regained their feet, sprang directly
toward me. The race was renewed for twenty
yards us the stream; they were already close on
my hack, when I glided round and dashed direct
ly past my pursuers. A fierce yell greeted my
evolution, and the wolves, slipping on their haun
ches, sailed on, presenting a perfect picture of
helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained
nearly a hundred' yards at each turning. This
was repeated two or three times, every moment
the animals getting more excited and baffled.
At one time, by delaying my turning too long,
my fierce antagonists came so near me, that they
threw the white foam over me as they sprang to
seize me, and their teeth clashed together like the
spring of a fox-trap. Had my skates failed for
one instant, had I tripped on a stick, or caught
my foot in a fissure in the ice, the story I am now
telling would never have been told. I thought all
the chances over; I knew where they would first
take hold of me if I fell; I thought how long it
would he before hied, and when there would be
a search for the body that would already have its
tomb ; for oh 1 how fast a man's mind traces out
all the dead colors of death's picture, only those
who have been near the grim original can tell.
But soon I came opposite the house, and my
hounds—l knew their deep voices—roused by the
noise, bay il furiously from their kennels. I heard
, their chains rattle; hoW I wished they would
, break them, and then I would have protectors
that would he peers to the fiercest denizen of the
forest. The wolves, taking the hint conveyed by
the dogs, stopped in their mad career, and after a
moment's consideration, turned and fled. I watch
ed them until their dusky forms disappeared over
a neighboring hill. Then, taking off my skates,
I wended my way to the house, with feelings
which may he better imagined than described.
Bin even yet, 'I never see a broad sheet of ice
in the moonshine, without thinking of that snuf
fling hreatli, and those fearful things that followed
me so closely down the frozen Kennebec.
Signor Blitz in Market.
Blitz was in the market place, last week, inqui
ring for those litto delicacies, the lady apple, with
which he so well understands how to please the
children at his exhibitions.
On passing the stall of a very plain farmer, his
attention was attracted by a rather sickly looking
six week's pig, and he inquired the price.
" One dollar," was the answer.
"'Xis too much," said Blitz.
‘' So it is," joined the grunter.
" What is that I" said the startled seller.
" The pig," says Blitz.
"Yes, it's me," echoed piggy.
"We are told that Satan entered the swinish
herd," said the now evidently alarmed seller, "but
speaking out is certainly too much for belief—btit
I certainly heard it."
" So did I," says the pig.
The seller was evidently more excited and deal•
roils to sell it. "Tutee it at 75 cents," said he.
"Did it die?" said Blitz, inspecting it more
closely. . . .
Alarmed lest another answer from the pig might
expose and confound him, the exasperated shelter
suddenly seized it by the snotit, jerked it from the
shambles, end thrusting, it at Blitz, said—
" There, there, take it at thine own price."
Blitz, however, not being in the pork way, was
off its a twinkling; and the last he saw of the af
frighted seller, he was standing erect, piggey
tightly gripped lay the snout at arm's length.
Simple Remedy.
This simple application for a horse's feet which
are brittle, or hoof bound, I learned from an Eng
lish shaer, and having tried it with good effect, and
never having sop it fail, I send it to', you to be
used as you easy deem proper.
Mix equal parts of tar and some soft grease, hav
ing the foot clean and dry, apply it to all parts, let
ting it run antler the shoe as much as possible.—
In bad cases the application should be made every
day, for a week, and then two or three times a
week, till the foot becomes strong and smooth.—
Gennesee Farmer.
AN AMERICAN WIFE.—At a recent entertain
ment in England, the health of Mrs. Abbot Law
rence having been given, the American Minister
acknowledged the compliment paid to his lady,
and said that lie "was indebted to his wife more
than to any other human being, not only for his
happiness, but for hit orrefidwess in the world."
VOL. XVI.--NO. 4.
From the Flag of our &don.
AN APRIL FOOL.
DT THE DUKE,
IT was on the evening of the last day of March,
1850, that two young men seated in &comfortable
apartment in the - Hotel, Boston, with a
bottle of champagne before them, and cigars in
their mouths.
" To-morrow is the first of April," spoke out
Bob P., at length.
" Yes," was the reply of his companion, whose
name was Bill H. •
" You know old Kingley, that old wag of a den.
tist on- street?" continned 13ob.
" Certainly," was the reply.
" Well, one year ago to-morrow, he came to
play a deuce of a game on me."
"Did he 7"
" Yes, and to-morrow I mean to be up to him
for the same trick."
"How?"
"You see this tooth here'?" he replied, as he
stretched open his mouth to the view of the other,
"Nell, it is a false one, and to morrow I'll go to
him with my face bundled up, and tell bins I have
got a decayed tooth which I want extracted, and
have him pull out this false one."
" Ha, ha, ha," burst out Bill, " that will indeed
be a good joke."
So it was arranged that Bill should happen into
the office of Kingley the next morning at nine
o'clock, that he might see the sport, and that Bob
should arrive in a shorter time, ready fur the ope
ration. They then took theirpparture from the
hotel, earls taking the ncare!coursc for his lodg
ings.
" Good morning, Mr. Kingiry," was the salu
tation of Bill B. the next morning after the con
versation alluded to above, as he entered that
individual's tam
"Good morning; take a seat," was the response.
"I was passing 17," continued "and
thought I would give you a short cal."
Thus the conversation proceeded for a abort
time, when the door opened, and Bob made his
appearance. His face and neck was done np in
sundry neckcloths, 6c., and he gave a groan at
every step. He hastily closed the door, and quick
ly divesting himself of the neckcloths, he threw
himself into a chair, and exclaimed—
" Dear doctor, for heaven's sake pull this tooth
Its quickly as possible, for I haven't slept half an
hour throughout the night in consequence of its
aching."
The doctor immediately took up his instrument
—took his position behind his chair, and enquir
ed—
" Which tootle?"
Bob pointed one.
The doctor 1 lo se fifty years old, and wore
spectacles, gave a look at the tooth, and seeing it
was sound, could not at first conceive what should
cause it to ache, and was about to speak, when a
thought struck him. It was the first of April !
He gave another look at the tooth, and immediate
ly perceived that it was a false one, and that a trick
was being practised upon him.
"Now hold still, and be perfectly quiet," said
the doctor,
" I will was the reply, "but be as quick as pos.
sible."
The doctor took his instrument, and clapping it
upon the tooth next the lids° one which was a
large double tooth, perfectly sound, he gave one
tremendous jerk, and it was out !
_ .
With a yell of agony, Dub sprung to his feet and
screamed out—
Murder! doetor, you've pulled the wrong tooth!'
"0, no," quietly replied the doctor, wiping his
instruments, "the one you told me to extract I
pulled out some ten Months ago, and I thought
you wouldn't want one tooth to go through such
an exceedingly painful operation twice!"
Bob seised his hat and sloped! and from that
day he has had a natural horror of Dr. Kingley.
aq''llow is coal now r inquired a gentleman
of a son of the Emerald Isle, who was dumping a
load of coal in the street. 'Black as ever, sir, be
Jabers,' responded Pat. . .
WHomestead y2:01400.11 exclaimed Mrs.
Partington throwing down the paper—'it's come
to a pretty pass, indeed, that men arc going to ex
cept themselves from home just when they please,
without any provi t in for cold nights.'
How to Destroy an Enemy.
Nanglee, Emperor of China, being told that his
enemies had raised an insurrection in one of the
provinces, ssid—
`Come, then, my friends, follow mo and I
promise you that we shall very quickly destroy
them.'
He marched forward, and the rebels submitted
upon his approach. All now thought that Ito
would take the most signal revenge, but they were
surprised to see the captives treated with mildness
anti humanity.
'How 7 , cried his first minister. 'ls this the
manner in which you fulfil your promiie.
Your royal word was given that your onemiea
should be destroyed, and, behold you have par
doned all, and have caressed some.
promised,' replied the Emperor, with a gen
erous air, to destroy toy enemies,' I have fulfilled
my word, for see they are my enemies no longer,
I have made friends of theta.—Geldsolith's Oa
eels of the World.
sir An Irishman in Albany is going to get his
life insured, 'so that when he dies ho con have
something to live on, and not be dependant onthe
cold charities of the world as he once wmak.