Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, June 08, 1853, Image 1
VOL. 18. TERMS The "lirtsrmouost JOURNAL" is published at the following yearly rates: If paid in advance *1,50 If paid within six months after the time of saisterilting, 1,73 If Ntid at the end of the year, • 2,00 . - And two dollars nnd lifty - cenis if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscription will he taken for a less period than Six months, and no paper will be discontinued, except at the option of the publisher, until ell arrearages me paid. Subscribers living in distant counties, or in other States, will be required to pay invariably in advance. The above terms will be rigidly adhered to ht ell eases. RATES OF ADVERTISING. One square of sixteen lines or less For 1 insertion $0,50, For 1 month $1,55, ,c 2 CC 0,75, " 3 " 2,75, 3 " 1,00 , u 6 " 5,00, . . . PROFFSSIONAL CARDS, not exceeding ten lines, and not changed during the year• • • • $4,00, Curd and Journal, in advance, 3,00, ilusixess CARDS of the same length, not chan ged, 53,00 Card and Journal in advance .. . Short, transient advertisements will he ad mitted into our editorial columns at treble tlao usual rates. On longer advertisements. whether yearly or transient, a reasonable deduction will be made and a liberal discount allowed for prompt pay ment. POETICAL, The Old Elm Tree. fly L. H. DAVIS. In childhood's happy, happy hours, Oh, I remember well, I gathered wild, uncultur'd flowers O'er many a granny dell; And dearly, dearly did I love, With heart an light and free, To rest me in that shady grove, Or 'neath that old Elm Tree. That old Elm Tree, that old Elm Tree, That threw its shades around, It stands no more where it did of yore, For the woodman cut it down. Oh, those were dreamy, dreamy days, My heart shall ne'er forget, I'll ever think on childhood's plays, With fondness and regret; Oh merry, merry, were we when My brothers played with me, We'd wander far and rest us then, Beneath that old Elm Tree. That Old Elm Tree, &e.! They're fled, those sunny, sunny scenes, To me they'll never come, Bnt still they float along in dreams Of childhood's happy home, I scarcely, scarcely now would know That home so dear to me, The cottar's axe bath long ago, Cut down that old Ellll Tree. That Old Elm Tree, &c. Farewell each fairy, fairy spot, Which early childhood knew, Tears will bring me many a thought, And many n dream of you; _And never, never will they fade, They're stamped on memory, These times we had when oft we play'd Around that old Elm Tree. That Old Elm Tree, &e. SABBATH READING. Prayer. The pearly gate of heaven is prayer— Yes, 'tis Ole very entrance there. The child of flaxen hair and azure eves, kneels when the day is done, and prays 'this simple prayer,—" Jesus, make me gone Is he far from heaven? Nay, its bright tints look down with interest deep to see so fair a sight. And should that breath, that just heaved his little hosom, and now presses Ida ruby lips for exit, be the last, seraphs would bear him home. Another chill clasps her burning hands end rays, then exclaims, "I am going to heaven,"—and lot she enters.— And was not prayer the gate ? I have seen a maiden,—bitter tears had .drank the brightness of her eye, and left the cold fixed look of agony in her cold dark orb.. She knelt. Her lips opened with, "My Father —though I claim no earthly father, neither a mothers love nor soothing hand, yet thou tart my Father and knowest all my sorrows, and I come to thee. Bless now thy child, and give me grace to bear this deep affliction without a murmur. And when I have Fulfilled thy will on earth, receive me whore no sorrow is." She rose, and tears ofjey were gathering is her eves, and smiles gleamed on her eountenance. that Heawinly Father had unveiled a smiling face, and given a glimpse of heaven through Iluitrance—Trayer. . . I have seen the 'aged man in his devotion.— As Ms tremulous voice of age, that trembled i•.et again with feeling, went up, I felt as if his feet were on the threshold of the “better World." tr ,prayer I thou comforter,—soother of all ear rows;—healer of all wounds—gate of heaven— I love thee. And if I might defer to seek my t out's salvation, without ono risk, till frosty age with furrowed cheek had come, yet would I toot; for many prayers that sweeten now life's Litter cup; were then es naught. Oh, child of praying parents, dost thine aged father daily pray for thee ? Thank tied. And lost thy mother, weeping, nightly importune sin thy behalf? Rejoice. Or is that mother sleeping in the home of the dead, who gave thee up to God, and sealed that covenant with a daily prayer as long as life be given? lle comforted—nor prize thy birth-right lightly;— for those pure petitions shall aid thy prayer— thy entrance into heaven. Thoughts of Home. ITome, how sweet the name I What reeol lections are awakened by it—recollections of all that is near and dear to the heart. It nerves the arm of the soldier, on the field of battle ! One thought of home—of "wife and children— of an aged father or mother—a lovely sister-- or, it may be, of a gentle being whose young affections are twined around him. One thought of these comes to his mind, and he seeks on the ►tattle-field, honor and renown. The sailor on the trackless deep, far from land-tossed by tumultous waves, surrounded by dangers that make his Ina* heart quake— thinks of the lowed ones at home, and file's a warm emotion at his heart. And even in his last agony, while breathing a silent prayer, his heart is lingering around the lowly cot of Mt birth, and he feels a yearning desire to tread ones more the paths arotmethe home-stead, awl listen again to their kindly greetings I See the sturdy emigrant as he walks our streets; you would deem hint cold and callotis eFtuutiugbeu nu ruai "I STIP. NO STAR. ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATES.". magic word, Home, and how quickly the strong man is melted even to tears. That little word has unlocked the f;ntntains of his heart, and memory flies quickly back to "father-land."— lie sees, in fancy, the lowly cot, and the group of warm, honest hearts assembled there, and with this tide of tender recollections, crimes the thought that he is a stranger now, in a strange land, tin• from his own green isle. Yes, Home, is a sweet name, connected with all the heart holds dear; but to the Christian, it has a higher, holier meaning. lbe looks for ward to a blissful home in heaven, when earth ly re-onions have ceased. In the holy 1300 k he reads of that dome—of its boality—its glory, and his heart throbs with 4light as he roads his title to that blest abode. He reads of the golden streets—of the river of life that flows eternally through that fair land, of the multitude clothed in white robes, who, with crowns upon their heads, and golden harps in their hands, are continually praising Clod. He reads of the brightness orthat home, where there is no night, and of its exemption from all sorrow: for there, all tears are wiped away. All this he reads. and his heart thrills with delight, as he exclaims, "My Home is ]leaven." SELECT TALE. [A Leaf from the Jour.] of a Volunteer.] The Forlorn Hope. We were encamped hefbre Monterey. The night was far advanced. Stretched at full length before the camp•fire I was endeavoring to snatch a short repose to prepare me fin the assault, which was to take place at daybreak. The attempt was useless; slumber gave me the cold shudder, and I fimml myself intently observing my captain, who occupied the other side of the fire. He was sitting on an obi box, wrapped in his cloak, and gazing among the smouldering em bers with an expre,ion of countenance so in tensely mournful that my srmpathy was at once frresistably drawn I.,wasls him. His face was of an ashy pal s, contrast ing strongly with his jetty hair and e y e , lit : , heard had been suffered to grow for weeks, un checked by the edge of a razor, and its exuben once increased his haggard look. Captain Archer Was a mystery to the whole regiment. Young, finely thrmol, endowed by nature with a face of classic beauty, he seemed born to enjoy every happiness, yet a constant melancholy pervaded his every action. He seemed devoured by the remembrance of some never-to-be-forgotten grief; he made no one his companion—studiously avoided nil intercourse with his brother officers—A(lnm spoke, unless it was on ditty. The life he led was one of ex treme desolation. Notwithstanding the solitary habits of Arch er, he was respected by all his brother officers. for he was brave to rashness on the battle-field and treated all who approached hint with gen tlemanly courtesv. Being his trot lieutenant, T was slightly ex- empted from the formal manner he adopted to•! wards others, our dote twinging us in constant contact. I never had intruded upon his sorrow with any inquisitive questioning; he felt and appreciated the delicaey. And t hot tgli he spoke not Ho thanks, his eyes expre,:cd them. Hav ing secur e d Hs gaol opinion, I was careful enough to retainjr. Having nothing better to do, I lay with eves rivetted upon his face, while nn- imagination ran riot in speculatittg over his history. As I gazed, a deep sigh issued from his lips, and aroused hint front his abstraction. (Inc eyes met, he studied my molten:oleo for a mo ment, as if intent nn reading my thoughts.— He seemed satisfied with the serutiny, for he said immediately, with that eonstant tinge of melancholy which everaceompanied his voice— 'You are not asleep, Lieutenant George? 'No, Captain.' 'What prevents you from sleeping—anxiety for tomorrow?' ‘l l ,,,ilily that may be one of the causes, I replied. 'A dangerous duty was asigned to our regi ment.' 'Might I empire ,vhat it i,?' 'Certainty. Do you see yonder tall building looming above the walls of Monterey, through the (Uric:less?' `Lou mean the Bishop's Castle?' 'Yes—that is to be our point of attack. We storm it at day-break. 'lt is a dangerous undertaking' 'True, lieutenant, we have the honor of being selected for is %dont hope.' You understand Oust term; we shall march to almost certain death—we shall find a grave beneath those walls. I shall at last meet the death I have so often sought in vain' 'Sought, Captain, I repeated in astonish. meat, gazing in his face, which wore a look of calm, sad resignation. 'You are surprised that I should wish to die,' he continned, in the same mournful strain. 'lt excites your wonder that one so young as I am —for I ass only twenty-five—shoutdhave grown weary of his life. Alt! my friend, the Immunity grow aged in a day, and when such is the ease, the young frame that enshrines it cannot ree• oncile it to the world. 'You have met with some bitter disappoint ment,' I suggested, • which long brooding over has tainted your mind. Banish it from your Ilappines is yet within your reach if von will but strive to clasp it.' 'Alas! my friend; he cried, 'you know not what I have lost. You would fain administer comfort to me, you know not the extent of the wound you would probe. I lbel that to-morrow will bring the crisis of my fate. We can neith er of us sleep; if you will have patience to list en, I will relate to you the events which have so changed my being, and should you ever re turn to our native soil, you can tell my friends me story and my thte. I expressed my willingness to listen and A, cher proceeded at once: ant a native of Boston; my profession is that of a lawyer, vet I hail no necessity to prac tice it, Ilu• I was left an orphan at twenty, with an ample II al line. 1 did not fan into that course of dissipation COllllllOll to yolillg 111111 when left theirown mas ter at an early age. Reared in tie path of hon or null integrity liv a WI, tattier, I remember. esl and treasured Lis counsels lens after the lips that had uttered them were ertouliling into 'lust The old lawyer, under whom I studied, had a niece; she was the heiress of a line estate, which was unjustly held from her by a male relative, Iler uncle had given her a home,and instituted a suit to recover her property, Delia HAM was seventeen when I first be held her, and I thought her the loveliest of her sex. I will not attempt to describe the charms which made me her slave, suffice to say 1 lov. ed her with my whole being, I sought every opportunity of securing her society, und our acquaintance soon ripened in to intimacy; my hive was told and neeepted.— Delia proinised to he my wife an condition,and that was it' slut gained her law-suit, as her for tune would then nearly equal my own. I endeavored in vain to combat this resolu tion. She was firm against all my entreaties; HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, 1853. same breath told me I should never call her mine, so long as she remained a beggar. I left her with the determination to exert all me energies in -her cause. I would prove my , self worthy of LeP , T thought, by winning her. Animated by this 'Wee, I at once offered my services to her gime : Jinn; they were joyfully ac cepted. We labored together. The trial day came—the, case was severely contested—the re• suit gave us the most decided victory. I bore the news of our success to Delia. 'I have no thanks to speak,' she said, laying her hand in 'llium' this is your reward. Tlie wedding day was fixed. With joy I awaited the approach of this eventful period.— Time passed slowly to my eager anticipation. The eve of the day came. I was sitting mmy office, when a servant brought me the dlprm ing intelligence that Delia had disappeared, no one knew whither. At the same time he pla ced in my hand a note addessed to me, in her well known hand-writing. I tore it open with trembling hands. It con tained these flow words, which since then have been engraved indelibly on my heart. 'Edward—Forgive me for having so longde ceived you. I ant about to elope with him who alone possesses my heart. Pardon her whom you have so often called your DELtA. I sat in my chair in a state of stupor, with the fittal paper firmly clenched in my hand, while the moments passed unheeded. Heaven only knows how long I should have remained thus if I hail not been disturbed by the entrance of her guardian. Ho noticed my distraction at once and inqui red the cause. I gave him the letter silently. I could not speak, my heart was in my throat, and ehbakcd my utterance. Could I have wept, I should be relieved. He read the note, as he did so, the greatest astonishment was depicted on his face. When ho had finished, he exclaimed qt is impossible! she never would have act. ed thus: 'ls it not her hand-writing? T gasped. He serutinzed the note, word for word and his countenance fell as he replied— 'lt is very like it.' 'Yon cannot deny it.' 'The resemblance is very great, yet let us not be too hasty, Edward. I will hasten home and ascertain it'll truth: lie said, as he prepa red to depart, 'wait until I return.' He was gone. I had no intention of wait ing his return. The demon of despair was in my soul, and I could not bear to lookon famil iar things. I wrote a line to my tutor, leaving my property to his charge, and gathering up what money I had in the Mike, I hurried away. That afternoon I took the carsforNew-York. On my arrival there, I found the city filled with volunteers for the army in Mexico. I joined them and obtained a captain's commission. I have little more to tell. Since then, Ihave led a soldier's life. I have courted death in many a fray, and escaped without a wound.— I cannot drive the image of her whom I so fondly loved, and who so basely deceived me, froni'my mind. She has been the cause of the ev,rla,ling grief that consumes Inc. Some thing hdls me that to-morrow my heart will be at ',A, ITc cea , cd speaking. wrapped his cloak clo ser shout. him. and laid down to sleep. I re flected over his singular story, but before I could come to any definite conclusion, slumber stkrprked Day was just breaking as I awoke from my short nap. I had bees dreaming. I thought T had uncovered the runaway Delia—restored her to the arms of the distracted Archer, and was reefiving his grateful thanks, when as I opened my eyes I discovered a young lad sha king me by the 8110Ukber. I sprang to my feet asked him what he want ed. lie was an effeminate looking little fel low, with curly brown hair, and the prettiest blue evs I ever saw. ITis smooth forehead looketfeare-worn, and there was an expression of deep sorrow upon his youthful face. 'Where is Captaiti Archer?' he said, ih an swer to my interrogation. Towilei.,' I replied. pointing with mr sword towards the 'forlorn hope,' which was forming for the attack. 'Can I speak with him?' he inquired. Before I could answer, the word was given to advance. 'After the battle, I cried, as I hurried for. ward to Utica my plaeeinthe advapeingeohenn. 'That will 1)6 too late I heard hi;l 7 l scream as I hurried away. The assault was over. The remnant of the 'forlorn hope' was gathoged around a table in the castle of the Bisbop,whieh was coveredwith flasks of generous wine. Archer and myself were the only officers surviving. By my side stood the boy, who had sealed the walls after me, and passed through the iron hail storm of war unscathed. Archer and myself had fought side by side, and the courageous little fellow had closely followed our footsteps. The boy was gazing intently upon Archer's fitce as if desirous of attracting his attention.— Supposing he wished to be praised for his bra very, I turned to Archer and said— 'Captain Arehrr, you have not yet noticed our young yolunteer.'.. words aromled him from the revery into which he had fidlen; be raised his eyes and looked towards the lad, The moment their eyes met, he sprang wildly to his feet, exclaim i ng— 'Delia 1' 'Edward WM the reply, and they were locked in each others arras, lie did nut pause to question her truth—he asked for no expla nation. Al: was forgotten in the joy of the re union. I was made acquainted with all afterwards. The mystery was easily solved. The note had been forged by the relative who had lost the law suit, and he had abducted Delia and con veyed her to a country house to give color to the fabrication. He did this to revenge him self for the loss of the property. Delia succeeded in making her escape, and returned home. Her guardian informed her of the departure of Archer and the cause. She determined to follow him and convince hint of her truth. She made her preparation secretly, and len home in male attire. To New Yook she discovered that Archer had joined the army in Mexico, Nothing daunted at the length of the journey, she serur• ml a panYkl` and nailed the next day. After many perils and hard•ahips, her devotion was rewarded its finding Archer at Monterey, Archer bad pro p hesied rightly when 11e said, Lis lietert would be at rest' that day. That Bice, which hail in long been a stranger to a smile, beenme radiant with them. Determin ed uotto be deprived of his bride a second time, as soon as his duty would permit, lie summon ed in a priest, soil I, iseting the part of a fath er, placed the hand or Delia within his own, and gave bins a jewel of a wife. tike bore her husband company throughout the remainder of the campaign, and when this war was over, returned with him to Boston. The relative who made bimeell' sn bum. in eoneocting vilhiny, had evaded panielnueni. by fli _llt. . The last time I had the pleasure of seeing Archer and his witi•, they were enjoying the happier,. thee ,o rig lOy deserve. May it nee• MISCELLANEOUS, The Dollar. JACQUE.. Befbre me lies a silver dollar, which bears upon its reverse the pillar,' shield of haughty Spain. Years ago in the dark eaves of Potosi the swarthy Aztec delved from the unwilling earth the glittering ore, which was never more to be his own; and smelted, purified and stamp ed with the insignia of tyranny, it has gone forth front age to age, and from generation to generation, an entailed curse or •a bequeathed blessings. The lean and shrivelled miser has toiled for it penny by penny; for he has wronged the widow and the fatherless, and spoiled the hap py home of the virtuous; and to possess it he has denied himself even the necessaries of life; and pinched by hunger and want, he has hug ged it to his dying bosom, and relinquished it only when the icy hand of death has opened his clutched fingers. And then what it coot the old man a long life-time of weary toil and want to accumulate, was quickly scattered to profligate heirs, who in their turn, were bring. mg upon themselves the curse of the miser's ill-gotten wealth. _ . f'or this poor bit of ringing metal has the seamstress in her dismal garret, "With eye-lids heavy and red, And fingers weary and wore," stitched on for dear life; and when the miser able dollar had passed through her toil-worn fingers, it was but to he squandered from the snowy hand of beauty in the marts of fashion able trade. Rich, dry old men of business— men," and substantial seen of Boston have fin gered it lovingly, as if its mellow ring were music to their ears; and then again, it has nes tled in the hand of innocent children, and been treasured up among its hoard of precious things—gazed at day by day, teaching the lit tle one to learn too soon, alas! to love . the "root of all evil."• Within this shining circle have centred all the ends and aims of the sordid man of the world; who found, when too late, that his migh ty dollar could not. "Minister to the Mind diseased. Pluck from the memory rtToteilfeyrow, Raze out the written troubles or the bruin," orgive the soul a passport to that realm beyond the earth, beyond the skies. The chubby school-boy, with his growing av arice, has hoarded op the dollar in his little pocket book, against the fourth of July jolifica tient and then how gladly hat it gone to the vender of apple tarts and ginger beer, or gun powder and fire crackers, though diverse and terrible, during the long, long months of wait ing, were the temptations to violate its unbro ken repose. This typo of Yankee ambition—the Almigh ty Dollar—has been the prim of that patriotism which political sham patriots buy and sell in the market place—the tmecessful bait and tempted virtue and the reward of crime. lle. nevelenee lead ennverted the heathen with it, and stingilyvl has rewarded the preserver of his life with the same identical coin. One day it has been dropped into the foul till oldie low grog„gery, and the next day it has gone on a mission to the Sandwich islands, along with sonic thousand casks of New Vitg land runt, and it only returned to buy the s•ml of a curb stone broken into the Contribution box, and the m•xt (lay it was sold at six per cent. on State street: and after crossing the Atlantic, and flourishing among titled puppets of the Court of St. James, it returned to pur chase the complete works of William Slinks. peare, and then bribed an independent editor of modern Athens to hold his tongue. But it would be in vain to attempt to follow this erratic coin in its wanderings up and down the earth, doing good one day, and upsetting it the next; but, oh! friend of humanity, add not another to its manifold sins, but use it RA not abusing it; and when it shall leave your hand, send it forth upon a good mission. Almighty Dollar! go forth upon your way. Pull 'down and build up; destroy and repair; comfort and succour; and wound, but your pro gress around the world shall woar you smooth er, and one day you ton shall fall to the fate of our humanity, and shall die! Joaquin, the Mexican Robber. The San Franeisco Herald gives a romantic account of Joaquin, the Mexican robber. He recently stopped on the Salinas Plains, and the owner of the house asking him, in the course of the conversation, if he hail heard of Joaquin, the person addressed, put his band to his heart, and with grave politeness and penetrating glance, replied "Sir, I ion that Joaquin, and no man takes me alive, or comes within one hundred yards of me, with these good weapons." Without any further ceremony, and perfect ly unexcited, the robber went. on to relate the reason aids conduct in his late career; he had been oppressed, robbed, and persecuted by the Americans in the . placers;had lost SlO,OOO been driven from a piece of land, which he was working with an American companion; had been insulted and grossly maltreated without justice; had been flogged—and he was deter mined to he revenged for his wrongs, four-fold. Ile had robbed many, killed many, and more should suffer in the same way. hie appeared then to grow very serious. and become excited. 9 was once a great admirer of the Ameri cans, and thought them the most generous, no lite, and liberal people in the world, from hay ing seen so many of them in my own country and here, who were men of the most generous and honorable principles, to whom tyranny and injustice were as hateful as the rule of Hach upinns to the Mexicans. I hated the insecuri ty and revolutions of Mexico, and canto here, thinking, to end ray days in California, in peace, as a citizen of the United SLAMS. With an American friend, I took up a piece of land not far from Stockton, and was getting a fine lit tle farm under way, when I was annoyed, in sulted and injured to such a degree, by my neighbors, that I could not live in peace. I then went in the placers, and was getting on very well, when T was driven from my hold by some of my lawless neighbors. I was in trade and business there, and was wronged and cheated by every one I trusted. At every turn I took,l lost, or sets swindled and rohheii, awl that too, by the very men for whom I had the greatest friendship and admiration. I saw them daily commit acts of the most outrageous and lawless injustice or of canning and mean duplicity, hateful to every honorable mind. I then said to myself, I will avenge my wrongs, and take the law in my own hands—those win, have injured nut slay, and those who - have not, I'll rob—my track shall leave a trail of blood, and he that seeks me :limn hit, the dust, or I will die in the struggle. I will get my money back some way or other, and I at least will not submit imrevenging to outrage." Joaquin said that hearing a large reward was offered for his head or his living hAv. rode into Stockton, disguised, walked leisurdy around, with his serape threwn (worlds should , ors, reading tha different hand hills posted up about town. Coming to one of these in a pub lic thoroughfare, where $5,000 was offered for his capture. ho wrote to pencil underneath: I will give $lO,OOO my,rlf—Joaquin"—and deutti or th Persevere. How many young men in our land are wish. inc and sighing to lie great, who nevertheless, will pass away buried in obscurity'? And the reason is a simple one and soon told. They fail in perseverance. There are two princi ples, which if we possess, we may succeed in any undertaking. They are industry and perseverance. Do you live secluded from the world, and wish to rise in the estimation and command their admiration ? Set your brains to studying and reflecting, and you may scat ter your influence over the world. But you must persist. . . . Learning, riches, honor are yours if you will get to work in earnest and never suffer your steps to flag. Drop by drop the ocean may be drained. Grain after grain the mountain may be levelled. So a little knowledge acquired every day soon swells to a vast amount. The diffiCulty is not so great by tier as you imagine. What others can do, why may not you ? The trouble is, you see the knowledge others pos sess, and you wish to get all at once. You cannot do this, therefore you are discouraged. You forget that the road to wisdom is up hill— that all who are there travelled it step by step; and if you would get there you must do it in the same manner. There are thorns in the way which will tax your patience, but every one you pass makes the next seem less fright ful nod difficult. Then do not go with your head bowed down murmuring and complaining of your poverty, your circumstances, or you don't know what. But if von have any ener gv, and perseverance, which is the brightest jewel, you will surmount to last obstacle. Con staid effort will succeed. How ninny are toil ing, sweating, bleeding for gold, who it' they had made the same exertions to obtain knowl edge, might sit with Pirklin.—lntlependence. A Mother's Soliloquy. "'Tis mine! Bound to me tiy .. a tie that death itself cannot sever. That little heart shall never thrill with pleasure, or throb with pain, without a quick response front mine. I ant the centre of its little world; its very life depends on my faithful care. It is my sweet duty to deck those dimpled limbs. to poise that tiny trembling foot; yet stay! My duty ends not here! A soul looks forth from those blue eyes! An undying spirit, that shall plume its wing for a ceaseless flight, guided by my erring hand. The hot blood of anger mar not poison the Bunt whence it draws its 11th; or the hasty words esoapo my lips, in that pare presence.— Wayward, passionate, impulsive; “how shall I approach it" but with a hush upon my spirit and a silent prayer! Oh, careless sentinel ! slumber not at thy post over its trusting innocence I Oh, reckless "sower of the seed," let not "the tares" spring upl . _ _ Oh, l'insklyii/ helmsman! how shalt thou pi. lot that little bark o'er life's tempestuous sea, safely to the eternal shore! "'Tis 0117 . * P' A father bends proudly over that little era• die! A father's love ! how strong ! how true ! Butt oh I not to tender RA hurts, whose heart kirt Lab,. bath lain beneath Fit tµe for the holy trust, flood Shepherd, or fold it early to thy loving bosom FANNY FERN. A Slight Mistake. Not long after Mr. Balloted settlement in Boston, he received a pressing invitation to visit the Island of Nantucket. The inconveni ence of communication between the island and the main land was considerable, but ho consen , ted, and passed sonic ten days there, preaching every 811CePSSIVe day and evening to large and interested audiences, creating a vory earliest movement in the matter of religion. On his return, arriving at New Bedford, he took the stage coach for Boston, and in it found but one other person. Scarcely had the journey coin menced, when his fellow-passenger opened the conversation by saying:— "You are just from the island, I suppose ?" "Yes, sir," was the reply. , . "Well, they say oldHalloo is over there, preaehimr his heresy. Did you see him 7' saw him," was the calm reply. ••Well he's a rough old fellow. I don't like him." ••Why not ?" asked Mr. II:Ohm "lte,anse he preaches that all men will lie savt.,l awl go to heaven in their sins, and .no Inait in his sense can believe that." -But, sir, did you ever hear hint preach?" 'No; I hope nut," said the man. "Then yon may be misinformed no to what he does preach," said Mr. 13allou, "Now I think he would say, if he were here, that he did not believe nor preach as you have represented." "But what does he believe, then ?" said the stranger, somewhat earnestly. "I think he would say that sinners are to be saved front their sins, not is their sins. Christ came to save the world from sin, not in sin; and furthromore we are told in the Scriptures that "he that is dead is free from sin," and he that is freed from sin must surely be holy, and consequently happy." "Sir, if! may he so bold," said the stranger, after looklug for a moment somewhat critically, "where do you live when at home?" "I live in Boston, sir." "Whose church do von attend?" "Mr. Ballots chur(i, "What is your name "My woe is Ballot'," he replied, pleas antly. The man was confounded. Its stammered forth some excuse; but though he listened to Mr. Ballou's kindly-meant remarks with the utmost attention, yet ho was evidently very ill at ease, and watching his opportunity, left the stage at the next stopping-place.—Loi; (ilv Ho sea Ballots. Something for the Girls. Men trim are worth having, want women fur their wives. A bundle of gewgaws, hound with a string of flats and quavers, sprinkled with Cologne, and set in a carmine saucer— this is no help fur a man who expects to raise a flintily of boys on veritable bread and limit. The piano an the lace frame are good in their places; and so are ribbons, frills and tinsel, but you cannot make a dinner of the former, nor a blanket of the latter. And awful as the matter may seem to you, both dinners and blankets are necessary to domestic happiness. Suppose a young man of good Senile, and of course, good prospects, to be looking for me wife—what chance have you to be chosen ? . You'may cap him, or trap him, or catch hint;. but how much better to make it an object for him to catch you ? Render yourself worthy of catching, and you wilt need ate shrewd mother or managing brothers to help you to find a market. Se. Marriage is the rdriekest tie of rerpett, xl friendship , there can be nu friend:hip without confidence, nu euttiidence without in. tegrity.—Johnston. When religion is made a science, there is nothing more intricate; a hen made a duty. nothing is morn easy. tlEgtu. When a Tennessee girl is kissed, she exclaim:: “Now put that ri,tht hack where von ' -[IVEBSTER, Dialogue in a Court of Justice. The attorney in the case attempted to inval idate the testimony of the witness, by declaring him to he too ignorant to be a competent one; said he to the Judge, I can convince your bon or of the incompetency of the witness in a very few moments; he has been reared in the coun try, he has never been out of night of his fath er's barn, never sow a school house, and your honor permitting, I will propound a few que, lions and upon his answers your honor can decide. The judge assenting. lie turned to the witness and itsiced—"Who made you 7" Witness—"l don't kinitr, reckon it woe 1110- Attorney—" There 1 your honor, to the satis faction of yourself and jury, I have proved the 'witness a non moms nvotig, totally unquali fied to decide upon the serious nature of his oath." Witness—" Now, Mr. Lawyer, may I ask you one question, I've answered y9urs." . _ _ Attorney—"A thousand, Sir, a•thousand, if you please." Witness—" Who made you?" Attorney—" Why, I don't know, reckon it waq Aaron." 11 nnens, turning to the jury—" Weld, now, I have read in the good book thnt Aaron made a calf, but I did'att know the darned fool got here!" The court was convulsed with laughter. Scene in a School Room. FUS3 elass'n jograree Scholars—"Yetlent." Niaster—"Tomtnus, what's the biggest river in Atnernicy ?" 'The 'rontbighee, zur—lke, he keeps pinch• in' me." "He pinched me fast, and I pinched hint back again.' "Take your scat—fast class in pandit l" "Yeth'in." "A .1 , 1; ark, n-n•F4 arkanu. .I,•kanßas." 'Pronounce it Arkansaw—hut 'Animus, you ain't spellin', you're parsin, _ ;, Hatkansrm • is a noun, "objec tive case, indicative mond, comparative degree, third person. and motive to scissors." "You hav'ut said what gender, Tommus." "Feminine gender." "Why ?" "Cos its---" "Next." "Cos its a she.male." "Dollno, num" "Come, David, you know." "Yeth'in—why eos its got Miss Sonri on the norf, Louisa Anna on the roof, 'Mrs. Sippi on the east, and ever so many she•males on the west." nrery well, Da id, you may an to the head —you're a rising genius, mall make a mnn before your mother." • "Ye VERY Itrcu.—The 'Spiritual ITarbing or," a paper printed in Rochester; N. Y., and advocating the spiritual rapping mania has the following : "In the twelfth hour, the glory of God, the life of God, the Lord of God, the Ho ly procedure, shall crown the Triune Creator with the perfect diselosive illumi nation. Then shall the Creation, in ef fulgence above the divine seraphireal, arise into the dome of the disclosure in one comprehensive revolving galaxy of su preme created Beautitudes." _ _ After copying the above paragraph, the Cayuga Chief responds as follows.: "Then shall blockheads in the Jackas cleat dome of disclosive procedure, above the all-fired great leatherfungusbf Peter Nipninny-go, the Gooseberry Grinder, rise into the dome of this disclosure, until co equal and co-extensive and conglomerated lumuxes, in one comprehensive ma ' shall assimilate into nothing and revolve like a bob-tailed pussey-cat after the space where the tail was ! Can the 'Harbinger' under stand our spiritual manifestations ?" HOUSE ANTS.- The best way to get rid of ants is to set a quantity of cracked walnuts or shell barks on plates, and put them in the closet and places where the ants 'most do congregate.' They are ve ry fond of those, and will collect on them in myriads. IVhen they have collected on them, make a general 'auto-da-fo,' by tur ning nuts and ants together into the fire, and then replenish the plates with fresh nuts. After they have become so much thinned oil as to cease collecting on the plates, powder some gum camphor, and put it into the holes and crevices, where upon the remnants of them will speedily vamose. It may help the process of get ting them to assemble on the shell-barks, to remove all edibles out of their way for the time. Accepting a Tract. - - One of the city colporteurs in Cincinna ti, some time ago, when engaged in distri buting tracts among the poor benighted anos about town, met with au amusing in cident. Coming to an isolated building, of bumble pretensions, on the common, ho opened the door without the ceremony of knyoking, saying, you accept a tract of the Holy Laud t" moaning the four pages of letter press ho had in his hand. The man of the house instantly replied, "Yes, be jabots, a whole section If you give a good title. But like to know if there be much prairie or ague there to bother a poor divil." V REMEMBER, that every loathsome inmate of Penitentiaries and State Prisons, was once a gentle, inoffensive and prat tling child; and every criminal who has expiated his crimes upon the gallows, was once pressed to a mother's breast, and drew from her bosom his life-giving nour ishment. Bad moral training, wrong in fluences, and debasing examples do their work,and transform endearing offsprings to ferocious men, who shock humanity by the foulness of their guilt. and the monstrous audacity of their crimee. Yet how sel dom has one of these direful transformations been effected withovt the aid of strong .drink ! (C "Bill, what did you jino tho 31oxi cau war for ?" "For glory." "Did you get it!" rather think I did—two crteches ,u 4,1 wlod,n NO. 23. AGRICULTURAL, A Hint to Farmers, The Maine Farmer gives the following pertinent paragraphs on the importance of the proper care of stock We may send to England for Durham cows, and to Spain or Saxony for the choic est sheep; we may search the world over for cattle that please the eye, but unless they receive the best care and liberal feed ing they will most assuredly deteriorate and eventually become as worthless and unworthy of propagation as any of the skeleton breeds that now haunt our rich but neglected pasture lands. We remem ber an anecdote in point, and will relate it by way of illustration. A farmer having purchased a cow from a country abounding in the richest pasturage, upon taking her to his own inferior pastures, found that she fell short of the yield which he was informed she was accustomed to givo.— He complained to the gentleman of whom lie had purchased, that the cow' was not the ono he had bargained for, or in other words, that she was 'cracked up to be' !Why,' said the seller, 'I sold you my cow: but did not sell you my pasture too.' The above, which we cut from an ex change, reminds us of the reply which a shrewd old farmer, whom we knew many years ago, made to one of his neighbors. The latter had obtained some pigs of a man residing some miles off, and who, be cause intelligent, was always very success ful in his farming operations, particularly surpassing his neighbors in raising pork.— Shortly after, meeting the old gentleman referred to, he says, 'Well, Mr. Sweetzer, I am going to beat you in raising hogs this year; I have got some of J. H 's breed.' , A-a-h,' drawled out the old man, you had better get the breed of his hog trough.' Crows vs. Corn. As Indian corn is the most important crop to most farmers, so it is the most ex posed to the depredations of fowls and in sects, some of which aro ready to prey up on it in every stage of its growth, from planting to harvest. My present purpose is to give a little of my experience in the treatment of birds. At some future time I may have something to say about insects. After wearying my patience in putting up windmills, strips of chestnut bark, and bright pieces of tin, and exhausting my ingenuity in making rag men and such oth er images as I thought would be frightful to them, I found that my labors had been spent to no purpose. At the same time, some of my neighbors, less scrupu lous of the death penalty, watched their fields with loaded guns, destroying many a beautiful songster who had never seen a kernel of corn. In this dilemma, my at tention was called to the following recipe for tarring corn, and I have never known it to fail :—To 4 quarts of boiling water, put 4 table-spoonsful of tar; stir well; and pour over half a bushel of corn, or as much as can be wet with it. Whon4he corn is all wet, sprinkle over ashes or dry sand, to prevent the kernels from adhering tu each other, and It Is ready to use. To Prevent Fruit Stealing. The following method, recommended by au intelligent fruit grower, is worth the attention of all who own trees in a thriv ing neighborhood:— "I have formerly suffered and been much annoyed by having my fruit stolen —particulsrly my choice, early fruit. A remedy which I have prayed for several years, but which is not original with me, I have found entirely satisfactory, and can recommend it to all culturists, as cheap, safe and sure. A few applications in each season will correct the worst neighborhood. The reingdy is this : Procure from some druggist an ounce of tartar emetic; dissolve a small quantity in warm water; then se lect some choice specimens of fruit on the trees you wish to protect, and dip the fruit into the preparation; marking the fruit in some way that you will know it. A per son after once trying fruit prepared In this manner seldom, if ever, has a relish for more, in fact, it gives him a sort of loath ing at even the sight of the tree, so that he will never approach it a second time, with a view of stealing your fruit, This remedy is simple, and easy of application, and sure of producing the effect desired, and is applicable alike to all fruits, wheth er large or small. The Richest Mine. The manures applied to the soil of Eng. land amount to $300,000,000; being moro than the value of its whole • foreign com merce; yet the grateful soil yields back with interest all that is thus lavished upon it. And so it would do here, if wo would only trust the soil with any of our capital. But this we rarely do. A farmer who has made any money, spends it not .in his business, but in some other occupation.— lie buys more land when he ought to buy more manure; or he puts out his money in some joint stock company, to convert sun shine into moonshine. Rely upon it, our richest mine is the barn-yard, and what ever temptations stocks or shares may of fer, the best investment fora farmer is live stock and plow-shares. Cure for •Bots in Horses. A correspondent of the 'Albany Culti. 'eater' some years since, gave the following recipe, as an effectual and immediate rem edy for hots in horses: Half pint of Vinegar, Do., " Gin, Do., " Soft Soap, Do., " Molasses, well shaken together and poured down while foaming. irPro feed an ox to 1,200 lbs. weight, usually takes five years; while the same amount of poultry can be made ready for the table in about three months, antl at leis than half the cost in feed.