Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, January 30, 1851, Image 1
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 _ . - '• - ' ' .. . . , ( 1-1 7' 0 .., r .. . ... ~„,,, ..---•.' I 0 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.