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BY JAR. CLARK.
THE POOll WOMAN'S SONG.
BY MART LEMAN GULLIES.
Though lowly my cottage and frugal its fare,
Affection and truth and devotion are there,
And evening arrives, and the day's tuil is o'er,
Then my husband comes home, and I bar up the
door.
lie goes to the bed where his little ones lie,
And I know the sweet light that then beams in
his eye,
And he turns to his supper, whatever it be,
With a kindness of heart that is heaven to me !
I love hint too well to repine nt my fate—
Frugality still keeps the dun from our gate—
And I hope that his children may rise to repay,
The toils and the sorrows that wear him away.
Oh, zealous and holy and pure be their youth !
May they hear front my lips only kindness and
truth !
And, when Mercy's mild messenger hears me from
Leave my mem'ry dear as a mother end wife !
THE CHORDS OF LOVE.
The heart's best treasures lie in secret mines,
As precious gems of earth arc buried deepest ;
The basest metal on the surf re shines,
And quick moved feelings arc least worth, and
cheapest.
The chords of love cannot he swept by all;
Some strike them rudely, and the sound is hol
low ;
Whilst, if a gentler toufiktpon them fall,
The sweetest music will as surely follow.
A low-breathed whisper may ignite the spark
That lies concealed in the bosom's keeping,
And kindle brightness where all else was dark,
Wakening affection 'which before was sleeping.
How sweet to know that when our bodies die,
And with the damp cold earth are slowly bleu•
ding,
Embaled in Memory's sacred depths they
Cherisled by Love unspeakable, unbending.
And when in brighter worlds we meet again,
And welcome those we lost at Heaven's wide
portal,
The dearest ties of life shall still remain ;
Hearts shall be ours which we had shared when
mortal.
Cot.") WavEn.—lt is said of the celebrated
Pliny, "that he considered it a great absurdity that
Mankind should bestow so much labor and cx
,pensc, in =king, artificially, such a variety of,
liquors, when nature had supplied to their hands a
drink of so superior a quality as water." You can
deceive a dog and make him drunk once, but there
you must stop, you can never catch him again.—
Alas 1 not so with man.
A Srutinr WtFE.—A middle aged farmer and
his wife were enjoying a winter evening cosily to
gether, when the conversation turned upon reli
gious matters, as described in the Bible, which the
man had opened before Idin. "Wife," said the
farmer, "I've been thinking what happy society
Solomon must have had in his day, with to many
wives, &c., as be is here represented." !qndeed
replied the wife, somewhat miffed : "you hail bet
ter think of something else, then. A ilreity,Sol
..
omon you would make, truly; youopn't take
proper care of one wife. What a figure liou would
cut, then, with a dozen wives, and all of thorn as
spunky as lam V' The farmer took his hat and
went to the stable to feed the cattle for the night.
—Boston Post.
TILE MAN WHO DIDN'T WANT TO ItE MEAN.-
In one of the back towns of a neighboring State,
where it is the custom for the distript school teach
ers to "board round," the following- incident oc
curred, and is vouched for by the highest authori
ty. A year or two ago an allotment being made
in the usual manner for the benefit of the school
mistress, it happened that the proportion of one
man was just two days and a half. The teacher
eat down to dinner on the third day, and was be
ginning to eat, when the man of tho house addres
sed her as follows:—"Madam, I suppose your
boarding time is out when you cat half a dinner,
but as 1 don't want to be mean about it, you may
cat, if you chooSe, about as much as usual !"
Josh, does the sun ever rise in the west t"
" Never."
" Never?"
" Never!"
You Don't say so !—Well, you won't catch
me to emigrate to the West, if it's always night
there. I've a cousin in lowa, who is always wri
ting how pleasant it is in that region, but it must
be all moonshine, I reckon."'
• • • -
isr Quin being asked by alady why there were
more women in the world than men, ho replied,
"Granting the fact, madam, it is in conformity with
the arrangements of nature. We always soo more
of heaven than earth."
eir When a certain lady who had been charm
ed by his writings, but had never seen his person,
wrote to Millibeau, saying bow much She longed
to see him, and begged that he would describe him
self to her, he complied with the wish of the en
thusiast in these brief and self adulatory terms :
.Figure to yourself a tiger that has had the small
FEMALE Poturicusts.—Ladies are generally
supposed to care little about politics, yet tho ma
jority or them are strongly attached to parties, and
all good housekeepers and censer•roe ire..
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1851.
THE DEAF WIVES.
A Laughable Occurrence.
The incident we are about to relate occurred
some years since, in the Granite State, and as we
abide beyond striking distance of the parties and
their immediate friends, we shall be a little more
free in our description of the circumstances than
we otherwise should be.
Nathaniel Ela, or "Uncle Nat," as he was gen
erally called, was the corpulent, rubicund and jol
ly old landlord of the best hotel in the flourishing
village of Dover, at the head of the Piscataque,
and was excessively fond of a bit of fun withal.—
lie was also the owner cf.a large farm in New
Durham, about twenty miles distant, the overseer
of which was ono Caleb Ricker, or "Boss Rule,"
as termed by the numerous hands under his con
trol, and sufficiently waggish for all practical pur
poses of fun and frolic. Caleb, like a wise and
prudent man, had a wife; and so bad "Uncle Nat,"
who was accustomed to visit his farm every month
or two, to see how matters went on. On the occa
sion of one of these visits, the following dialogue
occurred between Unch; Nat and Mistress Ricker.
" Mr. Ela," said the good lady, "why have you
never brought Mrs. Ela out to see the farm, and
pay us a visit—l dare say, she would be pleased
to spend a day or two with us, and I would endeav
or to render her stay as pleasant and comfortable
as possible."
" Why, to tell you the truth, Mrs. nicker,"
said Uncle Nat, "I have been thinking about it,
for some time, but then she is so very deaf as to
render conversation with her extremely difficult,—
in fact, it requires the greatest effort to make her
hear anything that is said to her; mid she is con
sequently very reluctant to mingle in the society
of strangers."
" Never mind that," replied the importunate
Mrs. Ricker, "I have a good strong voice, and if
anybody can make her hear, I can."
" If you think so, and will risk it," said Uncle
Nat, "she shall accompany me on my next visit
to the farm ;" and this having been agreed on,
Uncle Nat left for the field, to acquaint Boss Kale
with what had passed, and with the plan of future
operations, touching the promised visit of his
wife.
It ss•ns finally settled between the wicked wags
that the Ilia that their wives could both hear as
well as any body, should be kept a profound sec
ret, until disclosed by a personal interview of the
ladies themselves.
' The next time Uncle Nat was about to "visit the
farm," he suggested to his wife that a ride into the
country would be of service to her; that Mrs.
Kicker, who bad never seen her, was very anxious
to receive a visit from her, and proposed that she
should accompany him on that occasion. She
readily consented, and they were soon on their
journey. They had not, however proceeded far,
when Uncle Nat observed to her that he was sor
ry to inform her that Mrs. Nicker was extremely
deaf, and she would be under the necessity of ele
vating her voice to the highest pitch, in order to
converse with her. Mrs. Eta regretted the mis
fortune, but thought, as she had a pretty strong
voice, site would be able to make her friend hear
her. In a few hours after, Uncle Nat and his lady
drove up to the door of his country mansion, and
Boss Bicker, who had been previously informed
of the titne of Uncle Nat's intended arrival, was
already in waiting to help enjoy the fun that was
to conic of a meeting of the Deaf Wives ! Mrs.
Ricker, not expecting them like time, happened
to be engaged with her doalgtie duties in the
kitchen ; but, observing her visiters through the
window, she flew to the glass to adjust her cap and
put herself in the best trim to receive theta, that
the moment would allow, In the meantime, Boss
Kale had ushered Uncle Nat and his lady into the
parlor, by way of the front door, soon after which
Mrs. B. appeared in the presence of her gnests.
"Mrs. Bicker, I will make you acquained with
Mrs. Ela," roared Uncle Nut, in a voice of thun
der.
" How do you do, madam," screamed Mrs. Rick
er to Mrs. Eta, with her mouth close to the car of
the latter.
" Very well, I thank you," replied milk in
a tone of or es jading elvation. • •
" How Mira leave your family'!" continued
Mrs. It, in a voice quite up to the pitch of her
firer effort.
" All very well, I thank you—how's your fami
ly?" returned Mrs. E., in n key which called into
requisition all the power of her lungs.
In the meantime, Uncle Nat and Boss Kale,
who were convulsed beyond the power of endu
rance, had quietly stolen out of the door, and re
mained under the window, listening to the boister
ous conversation of their deaf wives, which was
continued on the same elevated le. o? the staff
for some time, when Mrs. R., in the same ledger
line key she had observed from the first, thus ad-'
dressed her lady guest:
" What on earth are you hallooing to me for—l
a'nt (leaf?"
" A'nt you indecd7" said Mrs. E., "but pray
what arc you hallooing to me for l im sure I'm
not deaf?"
Each, then, came gradually down to her ordina
ry key, when a burst of laughter from Uncle Nat
and Boss Kale, at the window, revealed the whole
trick, and even the ladies themselves were compel
led to join in the merriment they had afforded the
outsiders, by the character of their interview.
a , ' "Vali, dis is do smartest lectle place for
beeziness zat I avair did see t as the Frenchman
said when ho had stolen a watch, was arrested,
tried, condemned to the state-prison, and sent off
in a wagon, with some others, all in the space a l
two hours and a huff.
Beautiful Extract.
The following beautiful passage is from " Rich
ard Edney," the recent work of Rev. Mr. Judd.
The touching reflections are suggested by the
death of .‘ Little Violet."
"It is, in common language, hard parting.—
However joyous or certain may be immortality,
however undesirable, in any instance, may be the
prolongation of this earthly existence; however
certified we are of the salvable condition of our
friends--still, it is bard parting. Not the Mune.'
diatc prospect of Heaven, not the presence of the
Angel of Bliss, can prevent the bitterness of emo
tion. We weep from sympathy, and we weep
from sorrow; and sympathy makes the sorrow of
many a one. In a moment, as by electric com
munication, all bearti coalesce.
"It is hard parting; the cessation, the giving
over, the farewell, the last view; the absence, the
being gone ; nothing for the eye to look upon, or
the hand to feel, or the tongue to speak to; the
withdrawal of the spirit, the burial of the body;
the silence and the lonesomeness.
" It is hard parting: but it is not all parting;
there is a remaining too. All does not go. There
are blessed memories and sweet relics still in our
hand, still sleeping in our bosoms, still sitting by
our fireside, still coming in at the door. Beauty,
Holiness, Love, are never sick ; for them there is
no funeral bell. That face visits us in our reve
ries when we wish to be all alone with it : an as
cended face, it shines on our despondency, and
smiles on our love; it peoples the solitude with a
sacred invisibility; It introduces us to the realm
of the departed, to converse with spirits—to com
mune with saints. The medium between us and
the dead is a purifying one. It cleanses the char
actor; we see nothing bad in what is gone; there
is no remembrance any more of sin; we are rav
ished by virtues perhaps too late recognized; we
adore where we once hardly tolerated.
Power of a Kind Word.
A man was one day driving a horse and cart
along the street. The horse was drawing a heavy
load, and did not turn as the man wished him.—
The man was in an ill-temper and beat the horse;
the horse reared and plunged, but still would not
go on in the right way. Another man who was
passing by, went up to the horse and patted him
on the neck, and called him by his name, kindly.
The horse turned his head, and fixed his large
eyes on the man, as though he would say, " I will
do anything for you, because you arc kind to me,"
and, bending his broad chest against the load,
tanned the cart into the narrow lane, and trotted
on as briskly as though the load was a plaything.
Those kind words were stronger than blows
The Most Profitable Honesty.
I know that there is a certain coarse morality
which draws its nutriment from the soil of the
dustiest heart. I know that to steal and commit
forgery and swindle lead, in the long ran, to pov
erty, as well as to shame. But there is a border
land between unblushing knavery and virgin hon
esty, into whirls successful forays may be made
under the cloud of night and secrecy. We say
that honesty Is the best policy, but no man was
ever honest who acted from mere policy; and it
is also not true that the best honesty is the best
policy. The most serviceable honesty, like the
most current coin, is that in which the tine gold of
virtue is mingled with the alloy of worldly thrift.
The most successful man of business, other things
being equal, is ho whose habitual course of deal
ing. is so far upright as to admit of occasional
slight deviations, and thus give the color of integ
rity to acts in themselves doubtful. There is such .
a thing as a "losing honesty,. which never do.
liberates and never parleys, which is as pure as
the snow " that's bolted by the northern blast
twice o'er ;" an honesty sometimes crowned with
brilliant success, but more commonly dwelling
with modest fortunes and a lowly estate.
Eloquent Extract.
Do trees talk? Have they not leafy lungs—
do they not at sunrise, when the wind is low, and
the birds are carrolling their songs, play a sweet
music? Who has ever heard the soft whisper of,
the green leaves in springtime on a sunny morn
ing, who did not feel as though rainbows of glad
nese were running through his heart? And then,
when the peach-blossoms hang like rubies from
the stem of the parent tree, when the morning
glory, like a nun before the shrine of God, unfolds
her beautiful face, and the moss-roses open their
crimson lips, sparkling with the nectar that falls
from heaven, who does not bless his Maker?—
When Autumn comes, the season of the "sere
and yellow leaf; when the wheat is in its golden
prime, and the corn waves its silken tassels in the
air, how those who think, bow and remember the
reaper, death. Anti then again in winter, when
the bosom of old Mother Earth is cold, and the
white snow, like a shroud, is on her breast, and
the naked trees. whit leaves all fallen, stand quiv
ering in the wind.
Correct Sentiment.
The following extract is from Noah's address to
young men. It is a gem of surpassing beauty :
" I would frown on vice, I would favor virtue—
favor whatever would elevate, would adorn° char
acter, alleviate the miseries of my species, or con
tribute to render the world I inhabited, like the
heavens to which I looked, a place of innocence
and felicity. Though I were to exist no longer
than those ephemera that sport in the beams of
the summer's morn, during their short hour, I
would rather soar with the eagle, and leave the
record of my flight and my fall among the stars,
than to creep in the gutter with the reptile, and
bed my memory and my body together in the
dunghill. However short my part, I would act it
well, that I might surrender my existence without
disgrace, and without compunction."
From the German of Krummaeher.
THE FLOWER GATHERER.
" God sends upon the wings of Spring,
Fresh thoughts into the breast of flowers."
The young and innocent Theresa had passed
the most beautiful part of the spring upon a bed
of sickness; and as soon as ever she began to re
gain her strength, she spoke of flowers, asking
continually if her favorites were again as lovely
a.s.they bad been the year before, when she bad
been able to seek and aeimire for herself. Erick,
the sick girl's little brother, took a basket, and
showing it to his mamma, said, in a whisper t—
" Mumma, I will run out and get poor Theresa
the prettiest I can find in the fields." So out he
ran, for the first time in many a long day, and lie
thought that spring had never been so beautiful
before; for lie looked upon it with a gentle and a
loving heart, and enjoyed a run in the fresh air,
after having been a prisoner by his sister's couch,
whom he had never left during her illness. The
happy child rambled about, up hill and down hill.
Nightingales sang, bees hummed, and butterflies
flitted round him, and the most lovely flowers
were blowing at his feet. He jumped about, lie
danced, lie sang, and wandered from hedge to
hedge, and from flower to flower, with a soul as
pure as the blue sky above him, and eyes that
sparkled like a little brook bubling from a rock.
At last he had filled his basket quite full of the
prettiest flowers, and, to crown all, he made a
wreath of field strawberry flowers, which lie laid
on the top of it, neatly arranged on some grass,
and one might fancy them a string of pearls, they
looked so pure and fresh. The happy boy looked
with delight at his full basket, and putting it down
by his side, rested himself in the shade of en oak,
on a carpet of solf green moss. Hero he sat,
looking at the beautiful prospect thnt lay spread
out before him in all the freshness of spring, and
listening to the over-changing songs of the birds.
But he bad really tired himself out with joy; and
the merry sounds of the fields, the buzzing of the
insects, and the birds' songs, all helped to send
him to sleep. And peacefully the fair child slum
bored, his rosy cheek resting on the hands that
still held his treasured basket.
But while he slept a sudden change came on.—
A storm arose in the heavens, but a few moments
before so blue and beautiful. heavy masses of
"clouds gathered darkly and ominously together;
the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled loud
er and nearer. Suddenly a gust of wind roared
in the boughs of the onk, and startled the boy out
orhis quiet sleep. Re sat• the whole heavens
veiled with black clouds; not a sunbeam gleam
ed over the fields, and a heavy clap of thunder
followed his waking. The poor child stood up,
bewildered at the sudden change; and now the
rain began to patter through the leaves of the oak,
so he snatched up his basket, and ran toward
home as fast as his legs could carry him. The
storm seemed to burst over his bead. Rain, hail,
and thunder striving for the mastery, almost deaf
ened him, and made hint more bewildered every
minute. Water streamed from his poor soaked
curls down his shoulders, and he could scarcely
see to find his way homeward. All on a sudden
a more violent gust of wind than usual caught the
treasured basket, and scattered all his carefully
collected flowers far away over the field. Ms pa
tience could endure no longer, for his thee grew
distorted with rage, and he flung the empty basket
from him, with a burst of anger. Crying bitter
ly, and thoroughly wet, he reached at last his pa
rents' house in a pitiful plight.
But soon another change appeared ; the storm
passed away, and the sky grew clear again. The
birds began their songs anew, and the country
man his labor. The air had become cooler and
purer, and a bright calm seemed to lie lovingly in
every valley and on every hill. What a delicious
odor rose from the freshened fields ! and their
cultivators looked with grateful joy at the depart
ing clouds, which had poured the fertilizing rain
upon them. The sight of the blue sky soon
tempted the frightened boy out again, and being
by this time ashamed of his ill-temper, he went
very quietly to look fur his discarded basket, and
to try and fill it again. Ho seemed to feel a new
life within him. The cool breath of the air—the
smell of the fields—the leafy trees—the warbling
birds, all appeared doubly beautiful after the
storm, and the humiliating consciousness of his
foolish and unjust ill-temper softened and chast
encd his joy. After a long search he spied the
basket lying on the slope of a hill, fur a bramble
bush had caught it, and sheltered it from the vio
lence of the wind. The child felt quite thankful
to the ugly-looking bush as ho disentangled the
basket.
But how great was Mb delight on looking round
him, to see the fields spangled with flowers, as
numerous as the stars of heaven ! for the rain had
nourished into blossom thousands of daisies, open
ed thousands of buds, and scattered pearly drops
on every leaf. Erick flitted about like a busy bee,
and gathered away to his heart's content. The
sun was now near his setting, and the happy child
hastened home with his basket full once more.—
' How delighted he was with his flowery treasure,
and with the pearly garland of fresh strawberry
flowers ! The rays of the sinking sun played over
his fair face as he wandered on, and gave his pret
ty features a placid and contented expression.—
But his eyes sparkled much more joyously when
ho received the kisses and thanks of his gentle
sister. "Is it not true, dear," said hie mother,
" that the pleasures we prepare for others are the
best of all !"
When has a scruple more weight than a dram ?
When conscience makes a tee-totaller refuse a
thimblefull of brandy.
-o•lrourn r
Soliloquy.
To take a paper, or not to take a paper—that
is the question; whether it is better to know no
news, to sell my grain for half its value for the
reason that I never know when markets are the
highest, to rear my ,children up void of knowl
edge, to be the laughing stock of neighbors be
cause I know not what is taking place beyond
the narrow limits of my own acquaintance except
what I may vaguely glean from hearing others
talk, to sit long winter nights and gaze most list
lessly upon the glowing coals because I have no
newspaper to cheer the weary moments, as they
slowly chase each other down the pathway of Old
Time, to house myself on a rainy day without a
paper, and as a consequence, become most "dark-
Icy, deeply, beautifully blue"—to suffer all these
things, or to end them' now by signing for a pa
per. If Ido this, then do I incur the dread re
sponsibility of having to fork out one dollar mid
screnty-fiee cents! oh, money, money, loth am Ito
let my grasp of thee relax. Some have called
thee "slave," but yet, methinks thou dost pos
sess a happy faculty of diffusing a spirit of inde
pendence into the spiritual combination of man's
nature. Thou host been called the "root of all
evil"—surely they did err Who named thee thus,
for the tree of which thou art the root, bears fruit
fair to the view and yielding a spicy aroma. Oh,
money, thou art a friend when all other friends
forsake, thou providest for our wants when charity
retires to her cell and locks the door. Before
thee, nations bow—proud knees grow supple.—
Where thou art, all acknowledge thy supremacy—
let poets revile thee as they may—let philosophers
despise thee as they will—yet I love thee still ; I
cling to thee with an affection that can know no
abatement. And shall I let thee go to gladden
the Printer's heart, and to rattle in his purse ?
there's the nib ? Guess I won't subscribe.
MISS DILEMEU.
A Delightful Cliinate.
A California correspondent of the Kenosha
Telegraph, was formerly resided in Wisconsin,
does not seem to be much in love with the cli
mate of the "Golden Land;" hear him:
"If there was no other spot on God's green
earth where a man could live but Calitbrnia, I
should advise him to build an ark and take to the
water. Of all the miserable climates that ever I
froze an Esquimaux, or crisped the hair of a ne
gro, this takes the paint. From the first of No
vember to the last of March, there is nothing but
dust and sun, and shine and dust and blow ; and
if a green thing can be found fit to cat in any
patch of ground, (there is not a decent garden in
all California, from the snow top of Sierra Neva
da to the sands of the Pacfie,) it has been coaxed
out of the earth by some one (who was lunatic
enough to leave a descent home) standing over it
with an umbrella alt day, and emptying water
upon it alt night that has been bro't seven miles
from the river. The country is no more fit for a
person to live in than the crater of Vesuvius is fit
for an ice house. No churches, no morals, no
Christianity, and no God but the trinity of—whis
key and gold. We get nothing to eat but what
has come around the Horn. Everything has been
twice melted or baked at the Equator, and once
frozen at the Pole. Our very necessaries are the
miseries of life. Could you know when we were
frying our lean, rusty, stinking meat, and the
wind was fair, I have no donht but you could smell
it in Illinois. If you could not, we could throw in
a little butter, and you would turn your head
leeward."
Thoughts and Sentiments.
The mind has a certain vegetative power, which
cannot be wholly idle. if it is not laid out and
cultivated into a beautiful garden, it will of itself
shoot up in weeds or flowers of a wild growth.
Knowledge cannot be acquired Without pains
and application. It is troublesome and like deep
digging for pure waters; but when once you come
to the spring, they rise up and meet you.
Wo may, by a line education, learn to think
most correctly, and talk most beautifully; but
when it comes to action, if we are weak and unde
cided, we aro of all beings the most wretched.
That "it is not good for man to be alone" is
true in more views of our species than one; and
society gives strength to our reason as well as
polish to our manners.
There is nothing more likely to bring the cause
of moral reform into contempt, than to constitute
as its lenders, individuals, a large portion of whose
lives have been passed in vicious indulgence.—
Set a thief to Catch a thief, may be a sound prac
tical maxim; but never set a suddenly reformed
scoundrel up, as a public pattern of morality, or
send him forth as a good shepherd to bring back
stray sheep to the fold of God.
If the rich would not prepare thorns for the pil
lows, and forge chains for the hands and minds
of their children, they should teach them, early
the rudiments of industry.
Revenge is a momentary triumph, of which the
satisfaction dies at once, and is succeeded by re
mores; whereas forgiveness, which is the noblest
of all revenges, entails a perpetual pleasure.
It is the easiest thing in the world to find fault;
in fact any fool can do it. Probably those who
find fault with their local papers never think of
this—it is a fact, nevertheless, that it is much easi
er to point out defects in a good newspaper than it
is to publish a poor one even.
It is the bubbling spring which flows gently, the
little rivulet which runs nlong, day and night by
the farm house, that is useful, rather than the
swollen flood, or the warring cataract.
'lt is singular how slippery whiskey punch
will tusks the ride walks.
VOL. XVI.--NO. 8.
Silent Influence.
It is the bubbling spring which flows gently, the
little rivulet which runs along, day and night, by
the farmhouse, that is useful, rather than the swel
len flood, or the warring cataract. Niagara ex
cites our wonder, and we stand amazed at the pow-/'
and greatness of God, there, as he "pours it fronti
his hollow hand." But one Niagara is enough
for the continent, or the world—while the genie
world requires thousands and tens of thousands of
silver fountains and gentle-flowing rivulets, that
water every farm and meadow, and every garden,
and that shall flow every day, and every night, with
their gentle, quiet beauty. So with the acts of
our lives. It is not by great deeds, like those of
the martyrs, that good is to be douc : it is by the
daily and quiet virtues of life—the christian tem
per, the meek forbenrenee, the spirit of forgiveness
in the husband, the wife, the father, the mother,
the brother, the sister, the friend, the neighbor,
that good is to be done.
It has been observed, with much signifficance,
that every morning we enter upon anew day, car
rying still an unknown future in its bosom.—
How pregnant and stirring the reflection.—
Thoughts may be born to-tiny, which may never
die ! Feelings may he nwnkencd to-day, which
may never be extinguished. I-lope may be excit
ed to-day, which may never expire. Acts may
be performed to-day, the consequence of which
may not be realized through eternity.
Oriental Burial Grounds.
There is, certainly, something very touching
in the little artless contrivances by which the
people of the East endeavor nt once to lighten the
gloom of the grave, connecting it with all that it
beautiful and lifelike in nature, and to display
that purest and tenderest quality of the human
heart—affection that cndureth ling after its object
has passed from the scene of life. They plant ou
the grave myrtles atd roses, and adorn it day by
day, with freshly gathered flowers; they hang
over it cages of singing birds, which are fed morn
ing and evening, with religious care; they make
receptacles for water in the tombstone, that the
wild birds may drink thence, and thus something
living feel the charity of the sleeper below; and
they leave a square opening in the side of the
masonry, that the narrow house may not be utter
ly shut up from the light and breath of heaven.—
The women, who are the most regular frequent
ers of the burial dound, often . carry their food
with them; the tombstone is their table; they
leave a place for the dead to sit With them, putting
the best morsels before it ; and they talk to the
departed no if he were' lying by their side.
Preaching Politics.
A worthy deacon of Connecticut hired a Jour
! neyman farmer, from the neighboring towui for
the summer, and induced him—altho' he was
unaccustomed to church going—to accompany the
family to church, on the first Sabbath of his stay.
Upon their return to the Deacon's house he asked
his hired man how he liked the preaching. He said
he did not like to hear any minister "preaching
politics."
"I am sure you heard no politics to•dsy," said
the Deacon,
"rani sure that I said the man.
"Mention the passage," said the Deacon.
"I will; he said 'if the federalists scarcely are
mired, where will the democrats appear?' "
"Ah," said the Deacon, "you mistake. These
were the words 'if the righteous are scarcely
saved, how will the ungodly and wicked appear?',"
"Oh yes," said the man, "lie might have used
those worths, but I know darned well what he
meant."
One of the Duels.
The Chronicle of Western Literature, resurree
tionizes the following cenital story of ono Col.
Wheatley. It smacks of antiquity a little, but is
none the less rib-tickling.
The Colonel during a short stay in Vicskburg
met there some hot-blooded Southerner with a
spirit as fiery as his own. They quarreled—a
challenge passed and was accepted, and the next
rising sun was to witness one, if not both of their
bodies, drenched in blood, to wash Out wounded
honor. During the night, the Colonel said he
heard a boat coming up the river and it struck
him as he heard the boat puffing, that "prudence
was the better part of valor." So he took his
trunk upon Isis shoulder and stepped in the dead
of the night, very quietly out of the hotel; as he
steered the boat, whom should he see but his an
tagonist, at the boat before him, just going
aboard.
He returned as quickly as he had gone out,—
was ou the ground next morning, with his second,
waiting with disappointed rage for his antagonist,
and published him as a base absconding coward.
American Wool.
The recent State Agricultural Convention held
at Ilarrisburg, passed a resolution, that as it is
important to a large agricnitural interest of this
commonwealth to exhibit at the world's fair spe
ciMens of the wool grown in this country, the
convention thereibro "recommend to our Senators
and Representatives in Congress to obtain an ap
propriation of a competent sum, front the fund in
the patent office of the United States, to defray
the expenses of an agent, who shall take with
him prepared and select specimens of such wool,
to be exhibited at the said fair for the premium to
he awarded to productions of the highest excel
lence.
eir The following won the pi
on Christmas evening:
When has a man a right to scold his wife about
his coffee 11hen he has sufficient ground,
it Taunton,