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VOLUME XVI.
THE MAX-QUEEN.
BY ALPHA") TENYSON.
Yon must wake and call me early, call me early,
mother dear,
To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad
New-year,
Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest,
merriest day,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall
never wake,
If you do not call me loud when the day begins to
break:
But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and
garlands gay,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
As I came up the valley whom think ye should I
see,
But Robert leaning on the bridge beneath the ha-
zel tree? .
Ho thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave him
yesterday,—
But I'm to be Queen
. 5.: the May, mother, I'm to
be Queeu o' the May.
He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all
in ;bite, -
And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash
of light,
They call me cruel hearted, but I care not what
t hey say,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
They say he's dying all for love, but that can nev
'or bin
They say his heart is breaking mother—what is
that to me? _
There's many a bolder lad 'll woo me any sum
mer day,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the
green
And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made
the Queen:
For the shepherd lads on every side 'll come from
. .
far away,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its
wavy bowers,
And in the meadow-trenches blow the fair sweet
cuckoo-flowers;
And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in
swamps and hollows gray,
And ym to be Queen o' the May, Mother, I'm to
be Queen o l die May.
The night-winds come amigo, mother, upon the
meadow-grass,
And the happy store above thorn seem to brighten
as they pass;
There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the
livelong tidy,
And I'm to be Quuen o" the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
All the valley, mother, 'II be fresh and green and
still,
And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the
hill,
And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'll merrily
glance and play,
For to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to
be Queen o' the May.
So you must wake and call me, call me early,
mother dear,
To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad
New-year;
To-morrow 'll be of all the year the maddest, met.-
' riest day,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, Pm to
bo Queen o' the May.
A FRIEND.
How sweetly do those little words
Break on the listening ear;
What hallowed incense cast around
The human heart to cheer;
To have one nearer than the rest,
Whose thoughts and feelings blond,
Linked by that pure and holy tie,
A true—a constant friend.
I do not moan the sycophant,
All radient with smiles;
Who, like the rainbow's golden beams,
Are lasting but a while;
But one whose heart will true remain,
In sunshine or in storm;
Influenced naught by tattling knave,
Or sneering taunts of scorn.
Who when the storms of life shall come.,
Like"lvy on the roof—
Will ne'er release its hold upon,
Or parting, stand aloof;
But closer round its vines entwine,
As if to shield frotn harm;
Till by the cold and chilly blast,
Is rudely snatched and torn.
nis is the friend' that I would have,
No other will I claim;
For round this alter only kneel
Those worthy of the name.
'Twas love like this that prompted one
Whose life to man was given,
That after death his soul might find
A sweet repose iu heaven.
a 'Bo not ofibuded because another man doth
not think like thee respecting God and his mys
teries; for God is not offended at such unlikeness
es, but is really so, when you make yourself un
like to him by sinful acts and courses. Take
care, lest you who are so fond of condemning oth
ers about doctrinal opinions and forms of worship,
be found guilty of real sins in the end, although
unknown at this time by the world.
Honor that which is good, just and virtuous, in
all men, let their form of worship, or outward
manner of expression about religion be what it
may. To set down'the mistakes of the head for
corruptions of the heart is a great folly.
There is nothing more contrary to religion,
than angry disputes and contentions about it.
girls would only spend as much time
with Encycloped:as as they do with Milliners,
they would soon find their heads as attractive as
their hats. Queer thatno young lady will believe
this.
THE CHAMPION.
A Romantic Incident in early Span
ish History. •
The clang of arms and the inspiriting sounds of
martial music resounded through the court-yard
of the palace of Navarre. The chivalry of Arra
gon, Castile, and Navarre had assembled at the
summons of their sovereign, to fight under his
banner against the infidels, and now waited impa
tiently for the moment when the monarch should
mount his gallant steed, and lead them to battle
and to victory.
Sancho the Fourth was at that moment bidding
farewell to his queen, the gentle Dona Nuna, who
clung to her lord in an agony of tears.
"Be comforted, my beloved," he said to her;
" I shall return to you with added laurels to my
kingly wreath. Do not fear forme, nor let your
sweet face grow pale by brooding over the dangers
and chances of war. For my part, I never felt
more exulting anticipations of success, and am
persuaded that triumph and victory will crown
our undertaking."
"Alas !it is not so with me," said Nona. "A
presentiment of approaching evil weighs heavily
on my heart."
" You shudder at the thought of our separation
Nuns, more like a timid young bride parting from
her newly-wedded lord, than a matron who has
shared her husband's joys and sorrows for well
nigh twenty years."
"You are now far dearer to me, Sancho, than
when I gave you my hand : have I not to thank
you for the love and tenderness which has made
these long years of wedded life so blissful and
happy 7 "
"In sooth. I believe, Nuna, it is even so and
you love me as warmly as ever. Receive my as
surances in return, dear wife, that your face is as
fair to me, and the gift of your true heart as fond-
ly prized, as when I first led you to these halls,
my youthful and beautiful bride. But suffer me
to bid you farewell, or my nobles will wax impa
tient. I leave you to the society of our son, and
the guardianship of my trusty Pedro Sese, who
will attend to your behests. Ono word more. I
intrust to your safe keeping my beautiful steed
Ilderim. You know how I value the noble ani
mal, my first capture from the Moors. See that
he is carefully tended in my absence ; I shall ac
cept it as a proof of your regard for my wishes.—
And now, adieu, dearest wife. Think of me, and
supplicate Heaven that I may be speedily and
safely restored to your arms." ;x.
So
So saying, Sancho the Great, tendeidy . embra
ced his wife ; and mounting his war charger, plac
ed himself at the bead of his gallant army. The
clatter of horses' booth soon died away in the dis
tance, leaving the court-yard of the castle in si
lence and gloom.
Three days after the king's departure, the
young Don Garcia entered the court-yard of the
palace at Navarre.
"Pedro Sesc, Pedro Sese !" he cried; "my
noble Arab El Toro lies dead in a cleft of the
rocks I have returned to seek another steed for
the chase : such a boar hunt has not been among
the forests of Navarre since the Pyrenees echoed
to the horn of Roland : give me forth black Ilder
im, Pedro, my friend; saddle me my father's
charger, for there is no other steed in the king's
stables worthy of the hunt to-day !"
" Don Garcia," replied the master of the horse,
"black Ilderim is only for the king's mounting:
I dare not saddle him for any other."
" But the Infante commands it—the king that
is to be."
.` Chafe not with a faithful servant, Don Gar
cia: it is but yesterday I refused the same request
of the bastard of Arragon."
"What ! darest thou compare use with the
base-born Ramiro 7 Insolent ! I shall bear my
complaint to the queen."
To the queen Don Garcia bore his complaint
and his petition " 011, my mother, wouldst thou
see me dishonored by a menial 7 Am I not thine
only son, the rightful heir of Arragon, Castile,
and Navarre 7 who may command hero , if I may
not? Assert my authority, then, and order the
false Pedro Scat that he give mo forth black
Ilderim,
" Pedro Scot has faithfully discharged his duty
to my lord the king, who enjoined on him and on
me the safe keeping of his litvorite horse," said
Dona Nuns. "The royal stables are open; take
my son, any other steed, but leave black Ilderhn
till thy father's return."
" Nay, by Heaven and by the saints, I will
have Ilderim to ride this day, or I will have
vengeance!"
The headstrong youth returned to the court
yard, and again demanded the steed : again the
master of the horse refused. Don Garcia, pale
with concentrated rage, sprang on another of the
king's chargers, and galloped from the palace.
Instead, however, of returning to the. hunt he ur
ged his horse into the despobludo, or open plain,
lying to the south of the castle, and disappeared
on the road to Borgos.
Time passed heavily, in her lord's absence,
with the gentle Nuns. At first, she received fre
quent and joyful tidings of the successes which
crowned his arms, and the brilliant victories
gained by his forces over the Moselem army. Of
late, and since the departuve of Garcia from the
castle, Sancho's affectionate despatches bad alto
gether ceased ; and Nuns, now thoroughly wretch
ed, from the wayward perversity of her sou, uud
from uncertainty as to her husband's fate, had
prepared to rejoin him at any risk, and share the
perils to which he might be exposed.
tier resolution was no sooner formed than it
was promptly carried into effect: she summoned
to her aid the trusty Pedro Sese ; and, protected
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 22, 1851.
by a small escort under his command, bade adieu
to Navarre, and commenced her long and perilous
journey toward the theatre of war.
The little cavalcade had reached Najarra, when,
to their surprise and joy, they beheld a gallant
band of horsemen rapidly approaching the united
banner of Arragon, Castile, and Navarre, floating
proudly before them, announced to all beholders
that Sancho the Fourth led his knights in person.
Nuna's heart beat fast and tumultuously; in
a few moments, and the long absent one would
clasp her closely to his breitst. She looked up to
the master of the horse Who rode by her side,
and urged him to increased speed. They moved
briskly forward; and the advancing knights who
formed the king's body guard became more dis
tinctly visible. Sancho, as we have said, headed
them; but as soon as they had arrived within a
short distance of the queen's followers, the mon
arch advanced a few paces, and in tones of thun
der called on them to halt. His brow was dark
kened with evil passions, his countenance flushed
with anger.
" On the peril of your allegiance !" ho shouted,
rather than spoke, " seize the traitress, I command
ye ! My heart refused to hearken to the tale
of her guilt, even when spoken by the lips of her
son; but mine eyes have seen it. I have lived—
wretched that I am—to witness her infamy. But
the adulteress, and the companion of her crime,
shall not escape my righteous vengeance. See
to it, that the queen and Pedro Seso remain your
prisoners."
If a thunderbolt had fallen at the feet of the
miserable Nana, she could not have been more
horror-struck, or more confounded. Her life long
dream of happiness was dissipated; the husband of
her youth had recoiled from her as from the veri
est reptile that crawls on the face of God's earth;
and the worker of her woe and ruin was doer own
child—her own flesh and blood—her son Garcia!
Who would believe her to be pure and innocent
when such lips pronounced the tale of her guilt !
Unhappy wife ; still more unhappy mother ! In
the deepest dungeon of the castle of Fajarra silo
was left to mourn over her unparalleled misery.—
Alone, unfriended, and solitary, Nuna—who so
lately bad seen herself a beloved and cherished
wife, a fond mother, and a mighty sovereign—
struggled with her bitter and mournful reflections.
She could not reproach her husband, for she felt
that his ear bad been poisoned against her by an
accuser he could scarcely mistrust, even by the
insinuations of her son, confirmed—as he deemed
them to be—by the evidence of his '; - ienies, when
he met her so unexpectedly travelling under the
escort of Pedro Sem
But short space was left to None for these agoni
zing thoughts. Death, a shameful death, was the
punishment of the adulteress; but Sancho, more
merciful than she had dared to hope, had granted
her one loop hole for• escape—one slender chance
of proving her innocence. The lists were to be
open to any champion believing in the lady's
guiltlessness, who should adventure his lifelti her
defense. If any such should proffer his services,
he might do battle in single combat with her ac
cuser. God—according to the belief of those days
would give victory to him who maintained the
truth !
The fatal day approached, arrived and had well
nigh passed. Garcia unopposed; bestrode his
war-steed, the redoubtable black Ilderim, whose
possession be lied so eagerly coveted, and pur
chased at so fearful a price. The discrowned
queen, in conformity with custom, was placed
within sight of the arena, tied to a stake, sur
mounting what would prove her funeral pile if no
champion appeared on her behalf, or if ber defen
der should suffer defeat.
Who can paint the agitation of Dona Nunn,
thus placed within view of the lists, when the pre
cious hours passed, one by one and no champion
stood forth in defence of her purity and truth?—
She was about to resign herself hopelessly to her
inexorable fate, when the sound of a horse's tramp
was heard, approaching at a rapid pace; and a
knight, in complete armor, mounted on a charger,
whose foaming mouth and reeking sides told that
he had been ridden at a fearful pace, dashed into
the lists, flung down his gauntlet of defiance, and
announced that ho was come to do battle in behalf
of the falsely accused, but stainless and guiltless
queen.
There was an involuntary movement among
the assembled multitude when Garcia prepared
for the inevitable encounter. None knew, or
could guess, who the knight might be. No device
nor emblem, by which his identity would be
covered, could be traced on his helmet or on his
shield! but the ease with which he surmounted
his steed, and his graceful and gallant bearing,
evinced thatile.was an accomplished warrior.
In a few seconds, the preliminary arrange
ments were complete, and, with lances in rest, the
opponents approached. In the first encounter, to
the amazement of all, Garcia was unhorsed, and
fell heavily to the ground.
"She is innocent! She is innocent!" shouted
the multitude.
"God be praised ! though I have lost a son," was
the subdued ejaculation of the king.
"I am prepared, in defence of the much injured
lady, to do combat to the death," said the stran
ger knight. "Base and dastardly villian! confess
thy unnatural crime, or prepare to meet me once
more, when I swear I will nut lot thee escape so
lightly."
Garcia hesitated ; be was evidently torn by con
flicting emotions.. Conscious guilt—fear of the
just retribution of Heaven, executed by the stran
ger's avenging sword—urged him to confess his
villiuiy. On the other hand, apprehension of the
execrations of the multitude, and the indignation
of his injured parents, restrained him from making
a frank avowal of his crime.
Remount, miscreant! and make ready for
another encounter, or confess that you have lied
in your throat," exclaimed the stranger, sternly.
Before Garcia could reply, an aged and venera
ble ecclesiastic threw himself before the oppo
nent,
"In the name of Heaven ! I command ye to
withhold from this unnatural strife," he exclaimed,
addressing them ; " brothers, are ye; the blood of
a common father flows in your veins. Ramiro—
forbear. Garcia—the combat this day has testi
fied to your guilt; make the only atonement in your
power, by a full confession."
Ejaculations of astonishment and pity burst
from all the spectators. "Long live the noble
bastard ! The base-born has made base the well
born! The step son has proved the true son
Praised be to the Virgin, the mother of the peo
ple has not been left without a godson to fight for
her !" And all the matrons, and many even of
the hardened warriors among the multitude, wept
with tenderness and joy.
Ina few moments the agitated queen found her
self in her husband's arms. He implored her for
giveness for the sorrow she had endured; nor could
she withhold it, even for a moment, when she lis
tened to the avowals of the degraded Garcia, who
confessed how, step by step, he had poisoned his
father's mind by tales of her infidelity, in revenge
for her refusal, and that of Pedro Sese, to intrust
him with Sancho's favorite charger, black Eder-
Nona turned from her abject son, and motioned
her young champion to approach. Ho knelt at
her feet.
"Ramiro," she softly said, as she unclasped the
helmet and visor which concealed the handsome
features of Sancho's illegitimate son, "child of my
affections, for whom I have ever felt a mother's
love, though I have not borne for thee a mother's
pains; how shall I thank thee ? Thou host this day
more than repaid the tenderness I lavished on thy
infant years. Thou bast made clear my fair fame
to all men; even at the risk of thy own young life."
"I would lay down life itself for such a friend
as you have been, and esteem the sacrifice light,"
rejoined Ramiro, with deep emotion. "I remem
ber my childish days—before you came to Navar
re, a bright, happy; innocent bride—when I wan
dered through my father's palace an unloved and
neglected boy; and I can recall vividly the mo
ment when you first encountered me, and, struck
by the resemblance I bore to the king, surmised
the truth. Instead of hating me with the unjust
aversion of an ungenerous nature, you took the
despised child to your heart, and for the love you
bore your lord, you loved and cherished his base
born son. For the genial atmosphere you created
around me, and in which my affections expanded,
and for the care you have bestowed on my educa
tion, I owe you a debt of gratitude far deeper than
ever child bore his own mother. Nature dictates
maternal love, in the one instance—but it is to the
suggestions of a noble and generous heart that I
have been indebted for the happiness of my life.
You owe me no thanks—for, for such a friend no
sacrifice can be too great."
Nuns turned to the king; and, taking his hand
in hers, placed it on the head of her young cham
pion. "I have brought you kingdoms as my pow,
er," she said, "but I have not, alas! brought you a
son so worthy as Ramiro of being their ruler. I
freely forgive the Infitnte the guttering he has caus
ed me, and hope that, with advancing years, he
will cultivate the virtues in which he bus shown
himself to be deficient. But Ramiro has already
given evidence of the possession of those exalted
qualities which insure the happiness of a people
when possessed by their rulers. Invest him then,
at my entreaty, with thecrown of Arragon, receive
back to your confidence our faithful Pedro Sesc;
and suffer me to forget my past griefs in the an
ticipation of a love which shall never again he in
terrupted."
The king raised his hand in assent; and the as
sembled multitude confirmed the investiture with
one 'mighty shout—" Ramiro! Ramiro! Ramiro!
long live Ramiro! Infante of Arragon!"
Great Men.
One of the chief characteristics of a truly great
man is, his refusal to be entirely moulded into the
form of the society in which he lives, and his stri
king out bold and original paths of his own. He
stamps his own mind on the age in which he lives.
He often fights with and controls circumstances,
rises in spite of the weight pressing him down.—
Indeed it would seem when the Almighty inertia . -
ted groat faculties to any man, he placed him in
adverse circumstances, in order that the majesty
and might of those powers might be better exhibi
ted by their fierce struggles with outward foes.—
A greet man, it is true, must express, to a cer
tain extent, the spirit of the age, but he guides
even when he obeys it. Genius sets up the stan
dard of revolt against old opinions, and thousands
who wen before vacillating flock to it. Great
minds perceive with clearness those ideas of pro
gress which small minds perceive indistinctly—
hence the enthusiasm so common to many great
men. They feel so perfectly assured of the truh
of their opinions, that they ge right onward in
their course, sustained by an unwavering faith
and with none of those doubts and fears common
to indistinct perception. Your truly great man
too, is energetic; he uses his own will, and is not
to be shaken from his purpose.
r"Lizzie," said a little curly headed boy of
some five years, "Isn't Sam Slade a buster?
"Why, Charley?"
"Because the grammarsays positive buss, com
parative buster, and I did see him give you such
a positive buss." Lizzie fainted.
The Witchcraft of Woman
I want to tell you a secret. The way to make
yourself pleasing to others is to show thatyou care
for them. The whole world is like the miller at
Mansfield, " who cared for nobody—no, not he,
because nobody cared for him." And the whole
world will serve you so, if you give them the same
cause. Let every one, therefore, see that you do ,
care for thorn, by showing them what Sterne so
happily calls, "the small, sweet courtesies of life,"
those courtesies in which there is no parade, whose !
voice is too still to tease, and which manfest them
selves by tender and affectionate looks, and little
kind acts of attention—giving others the prefer
ence in every little enjoyment at the table, in the
field, walking sitting, or standing. This is the
spirit that gives to your time of life and to your
sex, their sweetest charm. It constitutes the sum
total of all the witchcraft of woman. Let the world
seo that your first care is for yourself, and you will
spread the solitude of the epos tree around you, in
the seine way, by the emanation of a poison which
kills all the juices of affliction in its neighborhood.
Such a girl may be admired for her understading
and accomplishments, but she will never be belov
ed. The seeds of love can never grow but under
the warm and genial influence of kind feelings and
affectionate manners. Vivacity goes a great way
in young persons. It calls attention to her who
displays it; and, if it then he found associated with
a generous sensibility, its execution is irresisti
ble. On the contrary, if it be found in alliance
with a cold, haughty, selfish heart, it produces no
further effect except an adverse ono. Attend to
this, my daughter. It flows from a heart that feels
for yon all the anxiety a parent can feel, and not
without the hope which constitutes the parent's
highest happiness. May God protect and bless
you.
[TVilliam Wirt to hisDatighter.
Higher.
A noble motto for a young man—higher!—
Never look down. Aim high—push high—leap
high Hyou cannot reach the stars, you can have
the satisfaction of drawing near them. He who
stands on an elevated position is sure to catch the
first rays of the sun. So he who is always step
ping up will first catch the favors and blessings
of heaven as they descend. There is no object on
which we gaze that gives us so much pleasure as
the upward and continued progress, in moral cul
ture and robust virtues, of enterprizing young
men.. 'When chains of sloth are broken, the vis
ions are clear—the heart bouyant and the affee
ticns and purposes strong, noble, higher and still
highet and still higher objects will be gained, no
ble purposes be achieved, and a sublime elvation
attained that will thrill will joy future generations
as the match on in the same glorious path.
PATRIOTISM.-A Yankee gentleman conveying a
British gentleman around to view the city of Bos
ton, Brought hint to Dunker Hill. They stood
looking at the splendid shaft, when the Yankee
said, "This is the place where Warren fell."—
"Ali !" replied the Englishman, evidently not
posted up in local historical matters; "Did it hurt
him much?" The native looked at him with the
expression of fourteen Fourth of July's in his
countenanec—"Hurt him," said he, "he was kill-
ed sir." "Alt !he was oh 2" said the stranger,
still eyeing the monument, and computing its
height in his own mind layer by layer; "well I
should think he would have been, to full so far."
The native tore his hair; but it gave him a good
opportunity to enlarge upon the glorious events
connected with the hill, and the benefits thereform
flowing to our somewhat extensive country, and
soon talked himself into a good humor.—Carpet
Bag.
Look Up.
A little boy went to sea with his father to be a
sailor. One day his father said to him:
"Come, my boy, you will never bo a sailor if
you don't learn to climb; let me see if you can get
up the mast."
The boy, who was a nimble little fellow, soon
scrambled up; but when he got to the top, and
saw at what a height lie was, he began to be
frightened, and called out:
"Oh, father, I shall fall; I am sure I shall fall;
what am Ito do?
"Look up, look up, my boy," said his father,
"if you look down you will be giddy; but if you
keep looking up at the flag, at the top of the mast,
you will descend in safety."
The boy followed his father's advice and reach
ed the bottom with easo. Learn from this little
story to look more to Jesus and less to yourselves.
Christian Treasury.
Mr. Snow, I wants to ax you one quos•
Propel, it dun.'
Why am a grog-shop like a counterfeit dollar?'
Wall, Ginger, I gib; dat right up.'
'Does you gib it up 7 Kase you can't pass it.'
Yah ! yah ! nigger, you talks so much 'bout
your counterfeit dollars, just succeed to deform
me why a counterfeit dollar is like an apple pie ?'
'Oh, I drops de subject, and doesn't know noth
in 'bout it.'
Kase it isn't current.'
Oh de Lord, what a nigger ! Why am your
head like a bag of dollars 7'
'Go 'way from me—why am it
Kase dare's no sense (cents) in it.'
' Well you was always de brackest nigger I
never see—you always will hab do last word.
ga- An editor of a southern paper, by the name
°Moog, asked Prentice, of the Louisville Jour
nal, if he ever intended to speak the truth. Pren
tice, in reply, says, that he shall probably learn to
tell the truth before Long.
NUMBER 20.
Had him There.
"Tell," a correspondent of the Boston Post,
wrote the following, which contains a wicked
word, and should not therefore be read by anybo-
County Court was sitting a while ago in—,
on the banks of the Connecticut. It was not for
from this time of the year—cold weather, anyhow
—and a knot of lawyers had collected around the
1 old Franklin, in the bar-room. The fire blazed,
and wags of flip were passing away without a
groan, when in came a rough, gaunt looking 'babe
of the woods,' knapsack on shoulder and staff in
hand. lie looked cold, and halfperantbulated the
circle that hemmed in the fire, as with a wall of
brass, looking for u chime° to warm his shies.
Nobody moved, however; and unable to sit down
for lack of a chair, he did the next best thing—
leaned ar inst the wall, 'with tears in his fists and
his eyes doubled up,—and listened to the discus
sion on the proper way to servo a referee on a
warrantee deed ; as if he was the judge to decide'
the matter. Soon he attracted the attention of
the company, and a young sprig spoke to him.
"VII look like a traveller.
Wall, I 'spose I ow—l come from Wisconsin'
afoot 't any rate."
"From Wisconsin? That is a disfance to go on
one pair of legs. I say did you ever pass through
h'll on your travels?"
"Yes sir," he answered—a kind of wicked look
stealing over his ugly phizmahogany—"l've been
through the outskirts."
"I thought likely. Well, what are the man
ners and customs there? some of as would like 'to
know?"
"Oh," says the pilgrim deliberately—half shut
ting his eyes, and drawing round the corner of his
mouth till two rows of yellow stubs and a mass of
masticated pig-tail appeared through the slit hr
his check—"you will find them much the same as
in this region, the lawyers sit nighes t the fire."
Printers.
"The stick of type !lath more of might,
Than warrior hosts or fortress walls;
And it shall batter towers to dust
That laugh at siege or cannon balls."
Printers have an honorable employment, and'
one that the first men have filled; an oecupationy
which is, to all who will ho true to themselves in'
its pursuits, the path to honor and eminence.
Lord Erskine was a printer! Franklin was a prin
ter! Beranger, the celebrated French Poet, was a
printer! Thiers, the distinguished French histo
rian was a printer! Printers have becomeour
State Governors, they take seats with our Sena
tors, and, as leading editors, have wielded pens
j that control the destinies of nations.
or Samuel Lathrop, one of the clowns at tho'
Circus, in a burlesque political speech, announ
ces to his constituents—for be nominates himself
as a candidate for the Presidency—that lie is in
favor of abolishing flogging in the navy, and in
troducing it into Congress. Ile thinks, by that
means, sessions would be shortened, and, conse
quently, taxes lessened.
Revenge is a momentary triumph, of which.
the satisfaction dies at once, and is succeeded by
remorse; whereas, forgiveness, which is the no
blest of all revenges, entails a perpetual pleasure:.
eit"A cheerful face is nearly as good for an in
valid as healthy weather. To make a sick man
think he is dying, all that is necessary is to look
half dead yourself.
Or An editor at a dinner table being asked if
he would take some pudding, replied, in a fit of
abstraction, "Owing to a crowd of other matter,
I am unable to find room for it."
le"It is said of the Marquis of Townsend,
that when a young man and engaged in battle, he
saw a drummer at his side killed by a cannon•
ball, which scattered his brains in every direction.
His eyes were at once fixed on the ghastly objects•
and seemed wholly to engross his thoughts.
A superior officer observing him, supposed' he'
was intimidated by the sight, and addressed him
in a manner to cheer his spirits.
"0!" said the young Marquis, with calmness ,
and severity, "I am only puzzled to make out
how any man with such a quantity of brains over
.came to be here."
C" There is a long article in the Valley Far-.
mar, by which it is established bayou& question
that sweet oil occasionally rubbed over bedsteads,
chair boards, &c., will effectually prevent the ap
pearance of bedbugs.—We deem it unnecessary to
publish the evidience of the efficiency of this cheap
and agreeable preventive of the nuisance in ques
tion. The reader will take our word that it is
conclusive.
eir So punctilious are the people in Boston,
that some time ago, an exquisite who was drown
ing, declined receiving assistance from a man
who had sprung overboard to help him, lisping
out as lie finally sunk—" You will excuse me, I
have not been introduced to you!"
eir'Sla,' said Whilehnina, 'I don't think Sol- ,
onion was as rich as they say he was.' Why„
my dear?' said her t.toui3lied ma. "seagulls be
'slept with his fathers; and I think if be had. been
so very rich he would have had a bed of his own.'
sErlt is every way creditable to handle the
yard-stick and to measure tape; the only discredit
consists in having a soul whose range of thought
is as short as the stick, and as narrow us the tape.
Cr To know a man, observe how he wins his'
object, rather than how he loses it; for, when we
fail, our pride supports us, when we seemed; is
betrays us.—Latecon.