BY WM. BREWSTER.
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PC:KUM TAIG
THINGS I'M DOWN ON.
BY BILL. BRAMBLE.
How many, many things there are,
As through this world we crowd on,
Above, around, both near and far,
Decidedly we're down on.
And, inasmuch as freedom here
Of speech to all's extended,
I hope at what I have to say
Nu ono will get offended.
But should the boot go tightly on,
If 1 your come should trample—
Why, face about—own up the corn—
Become a good example;
For many, many things there are,
As through this world we crowd on,
Above, around, both near and far,
Decidedly we're down on.
I'm down on sharpers—knavish men—
Who think it smart and funny
To take a country genius in,
And "do" hint of his money.
No wonder that the country ;trains
Distrust these "limey" wittier,
•Or dearly love their rural homes,
And 'lame the cussed cities.
I'm down nn those religious men—
Those bigots—so short-sighted,
As to believe all other sects
Aro sinful and henighted.
No matter what your virtues are,
if you regard them lightly,
The devil's got yes by the nose,
And he will hold on tightly.
I'm down on consequential men--
Those petit "public feeders"—
Who cock their noses scornfully
At all hut "party lenders."
In fashion's "best" they strut the streets,
With tbelings awful flighty,
Assume an air that seems to say,
"Here comes young God Almighty!"
I'm down on those strong-minded dames,
('Twere rong to call them ladies,)
Who 'mong the men would cradle wheat,
Much sooner far than babies.
With dresses brief, and high-heeled boots,
They issue from their houses,
And bravely sport along the streets
A pair of "doe-skin trowsers."
I'm down on that peculiar race,
(I scarce know where to place 'cm)
Who daily throng the Avenue,
While women's shawls encase 'em;
A "mouse" upon each upper lip,
Their feet in cramping gaiters;
Their creditors arc, usually,
But little more than waiters.
I'm down on many other things,
But I've no wish to tire
The patience or your readers out,
Nor yet excite your ire.
But one thing more please let me add,
Since I have lit the taper—
I'm down on all who bavn't sense (cents)
Enough to take a paper!
aim atamoriTß`d'(oEa'7.
Jim Blander and the Quaker.
There lived in a certain neighborhood, not
fur distant from here, a roystering, rowdy bully,
named Jimmy Blander. Jim was "sue' in a
fight—a kind of a pugilistic Napoleon.
Many and bloody were the affairs he had in
his life-time, and he invariably came off first
best—Jim, not only considered himself invul.
nerable, but all the fighting characters its the
surrounding .country conceded it was no use
.fighting Jim, as he was considered to be a pa
tent threshing machine, and could not be im
proved on. In Jim's neighborhood had settled
quite a number of Quakers. From some cause
or other, Jim hated the "shad bellies," as he
called them, with his entire heart; he often de-
Jared that to whip one of these inoffensive peo
ple would be the crowning glory of his life.—
For years Jim waited for a pretext. Oue of
Jim's chums overheard a "young Quaker"
speak in disparaging terms of him The re.
port soon came to Jim's ears not a little mag
nified. Jima made desperate threats what he
was going to do with Nathan, the meek follow
er of Penn, on sight, besides the various bra's.
es and contusions he meant to inflict on Na
than's body, in his chase language, ho meant
to gouge out both of his eyes, and chew off
both his ears. _
Nathan heard of Jim's threats and very pro.
perly kept out of tho way, hoping that time
would mollify his anger. It seems, however,
that this much desired result did not take place.
One day Nathan nas out riding, and passing
throuzlt a !on;. lune, wlicu about midway ho
at. tfuntingbln. :ii.,tr - ' 7, fit.
I SEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROHISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE 'UNITED S'-'ATES."
espied Jim entering the other end. Nathan
might have turned and fled, but his flesh re
belled at retreating.
"I will pursue my way peaceably," said the
Quaker, "and I hope the better sense of the
man of wrath will not permit him to molest me,
or allow him to do violence to my person."
Nathan's calculations as to the lamb•like
qualities of his adversary, were doomed to be
disappointed.
"Oh ho I" thought the bully, as he recognized
Nathan, "I have hint at last. Now I'll make
mince meat of shad•belly. I will salt and pic
kle him too!"
"Wilt thow,please dismount from thy horse?"
said Jim, seizing the bridle of Nathan's horse,
and mimicking his style; "my heart yearneth
above all things to give thee the biggest maul
ing that ever a man received."
"Friend James," replied Nathan, "thou must
not molest me; but let me go my way in peace-
Thy better judgment will surely tell thee that
thou cannot possibly be benefitted by personal
ly injuring me:'
"Get down, in a moment," thundered Jim;
"get down, you canting, lying, mischief-making
hypocrite. I'll drag you down if you don't dis•
mount."
"Friend James, I remonstrate against thy
language," replied Nathan. "My religion
teaches me sincerity. I am neither a liar,
mischietmaker, nor a hypocrite; I desire to
pursue my way quietly, let me pass on."
"Get down," persisted Jim; "down with you
—I want to beat some of your religion out of
you—l must give you a flogging before I leave
you—l think by the time I am through with
you, you will pass for a tolerable honest man.
I will teach you, in a short easy lesson, the
importance of minding your own business, and
the risk you run in slandering your neighbors:'
$1 25
1 50
2 50
"I will not dismount," said Nathan, "loosen
thy hold from the bridle."
"You won't, won't you?" said Jim; then here
goes—and he made a desperate lunge to collar
the Quaker.
Nathan was on his feet in an instant, on the
opposite side of the horse.
The Quaker, although of much smaller pro
portions than his persecutor, was all sinew and
muscle, and his well-knit form denoted both ac
tivity and strength. His wrath was evidently
enkindled.
"Friend James," he implored, "thy pertina
cious persistance in persecuting me is exceed
ingly annoying; thou must desist, or peradven.
turn, I may 80 far forget myself as to do then
some bodily harm."
"By snakes!" said Jim, coming towards Na
than, "I believe there is fight enough in Broad
brim to make the affair interesting. I wish
some of the boys were hero to see the fun.—
Now," continued Jim, "friend Nathan, I am
going to knock off the end of your nose—look
out!"
Suiting the action to the word, Jim, after va
rious pugilistic gyrations with his fist, made a
scientific blew at the nasal formation of our
friend, hut Tom Flyer could not more scienti
fically have warded it off. Jim was evidently
disconcerted at the ill•auccess of his first at•
tempt—he saw he had undertaken quite as
much as ho was likely to accomplish. James,
however, straightened himself out, and ap
proaehed Nathan more cautiously. The con
test began again. Nathan stood his ground
firmly, and skillfully warded off the shower of
blows which James aimed at him.
"Friend James," said Nathan in the heat of
the contest, "this is mere child's play. It grieves
me that thou hest forced me into resistance,
but I must defend myself from bodily harm—l
see that there is but one way of bringing this
scandalous and wicked affair to a close, and
that is by conquering thee; in order to do this.
I will inflict a heavy blow between thy eyes,
which will prostrate thee."
Following out this suggestion, Nathan struck
Jim a tremendous blow on the forehead, which
brought him senseless to the ground.
"Now," said Nathan, "I will teach thee a
lesson, and I hope it will be a wholesome les:
son, too. I will seat myself a straddle of thy
breast—l will place my knees upon thy arms,
thus, so that thou cannot injure me when thou
returnest to consciousness. I hope I may he
the humble instrument of taming thy fierce and
warlike nature, and making a better and more
peaceable man of thee."
As the Quaker concluded, Jim began to
show some returning signs of life. The first
impulse of Jim, when ho fairly saw his position,
was to turn Nathan off. Ho struggled despe
rately, but he was in a vice—his efforts were
unavailing.
"Friend, thee must keep still until I am done
with thee," said Nathan. I believe lam an
humble instrument, in the hands of Providence,
to chastise thee, and, I trust when I am done
with thee, thou wilt be a changed man. Friend
James, dost thou not repent attacking me?"
"No," said Jim, with an oath; "let me up?
and I'll show you."
"I will not let thee up, thou impious wretch,'
replied Nathan. "Darest thou profane the
name of thy Maker? I will check thy respira
tion for a moment."
Nathan, as good as his word; clutched Jim
by the throat. Ho compressed his grip—a
gurgling sound could be heard—Jim's face be
came distorted—a tremor ran through his
frame. Ho was evidently undergoing a pro
cess of strangulation. The Quaker relaxed his
hold, bet not until the choking process had
sufficiently, as he thought, tamed the perverse
spirit of Jim. It took some moments for Jim
to inhale sufficient air to address the Quaker.
"I knock under," said Jim; "enough! let me
up!"
"Nay, thou bast not got half enough," re
plied Nathan. "Thou art now undergoing a
process of moral purification, and thou must
he contented to remain where thou liest until
I ant done with thee. Thou just profaned the
name of thy Maker, confess, dolt thou repent
thy wickedness?"
"So, hawed if 1 do
"Thou perverse man!" replied Nathan, "in
an imploring tone, sny that thou repentest thy
wickedness."
"I'll be hanged if I do!" said Jim.
"Wilt thou not!" replied the Quaker; "must
I use compulsory means? I will compress thy
windpipe again, unless thou give me an answer
in the affirmative—say, quick, art thou sorry?''
"No—l—l—y-e.s," shrieked Jim, in a gurg
ling tone, as the Quaker tightened his grip,
"yes I am sorry."
"Is thy sorrow, Godly sorrow?" enquired
Nathan.
Jim rather demurred giving an affirmative
answer to the question, but a gentle squeeze
admonished him that he had better yield.
"Yes," replied Jim, "my sorrow is a Godly
sorrow."
"A Godly sorrow leadeth to repentance," re
plied Nathan; "we aro progressing finely. Thou
said but just now that I was a canting, lying,
cowardly, mischief-making hypocrite. Thou
wronged me in asserting these things, and
slandered my persuasion. Dost thou recall
these assertions?"
"Yes, I do," replied Jim; "now let me go."
"I am not done with thee yet," said Nathan;
"thou halt been a disturber of the peace of this
neighborhood time out of mind—thy hand has
been raised against every man—thou art a
brawler. Wilt thou promise me that in future
you will lead a more peaceable life; that thou
wilt love thy neighbor as thyself?"
. "Yes," answered Jim, hesitatingly, "ull but
the Quakers."
"Thou must make no exceptions," replied
Nathan; "I insist upon an affirmative answer."
A. struggle now ensued between the two, but
Jim had his match.
"Thou must yield, James; I insist on it,"
said Nathan, and grasped Jim by the throat.
I will choice thee into submission; thou must
answer affirmatively; say, after me. I promise
to love my neighbor as myself, including the
Quakers.
"I won't promise that, I'll be cursed if I do,"
replied Jim.
"I will choke thy respiration if thou don't.—
Wilt thou yield P"
"No I won't, I'll ho blasted if Ido, " answer
ed Jim.
"Thee had better give in. I will choke thee
again if thee does not; see, my grip tightens,"
replied Nathan.
And Nathan did compress his grip, and the
choking process' again went on. Jim's faCe
first became distorted, then purple; his tongue
lolled out and his eyes protruded from their
sockets—his body writhing like a dying man's.
Nathan persisted in holding his grasp until
Jim became entirely passive; he then relaxed
his hold. Jim was slow in recovering his speech
and his senses, when he did, he begged Nathan
for mercy's sake to release him.
Jim saw that he was powerless, and that the
Quaker was resolute. He felt it was no use to
persist in his stubborness.
"I will give in; I'll promise to love my neigh
bor as myself." he replied.
"Including the Quakers," insinuated Nathan.
"Yes, including the Quakers," replied Jim.
"Thou mnyest arise then, friend Janus; and
I trust the lesson thou host learned today will
make a more peaceable citizen of thee, and I
hope a better man," answered Nathan.
Poor Jim was entirely humbled; he left the
field with his spirits completely cowed. Not
long after this occurrence, the story became
known. He soon atter left the scene of his Ina-
ny triumphs, and his late disastrous defeat, and
emigrated to the far west. The lust I heard
of him, he was preparing to make another
move. Being pressed for his reasons why he
again emigrated, ho said a colony of Quakers
were about moving into his neighborhood. He
was under obligations to love them, but he was
or the opinion that distance would lend strength
to his attachment.—?lr. I: Spirit of the Times.
OlMir2ll2lll2oMo
A — Missouri Wedding.
In a particular vicinity of Missouri, a mar.
rine was agreed upon, between the favored
son of a farmer of no inconsiderable influence,
and the belle of all the country 'wound. Of
course, the elite of the neighborhood were in
attendance. Every thing was there, and every
thing was in apt readiness.
"The Royal Tiger was present that.,
The Monkey and the Polar Bar."
But that dignitary, to whom it was designed
to assign the honor of master of the marriage
ceremony, had Lot yet arrived; but just then
soma one spoke and said—
" Thar comes Spar Ben Buncum."
Quick the lights were trimmed, and every
thing put in place, As usual, anxiety, agita•
tion and joy were depicted on every face, and
Mr. Tons Wisdom, the honorable host, walked
out to meet the anxious "Spier," to welcone
him in, inquire for his health, the news, kc.
The "Squar" was a good humored gentle
man, but he was chiefly celebrated for talents,
astuteness, learning, &c., in his populous town
ship.
"Well," said the host, "Ben, you have been
elected, but you had a close time of it; my vote
alone saved you. You beat him one vote on
ly."
"That is all, Tons," replied Squat- Ben; "but
the next election I'll lick him. There's no use
in talking, Mr. Wisdom. without using the corn
fr-e-e.l-y, and a little sly scandal and lying—
I that's all the chance."
Ah, well, that's all over, and you are the ma
gistrate, Squar Ben, so come and let's go in,
and see what the young folks wish. Indeed,
Squar Ben, are you aware that you are expect.
ed to say the ceremony'?"
Benjamin Butte= now began to see the
Awful responsibility of his office, and to "trem
ble from centre to circumference," for he had
never officiated in that interesting capacity.—
They had not even done him the justice to in.
form him of the part he was expected to per
limn, or he could base prepared. tic had
made nu preparation—had no form nor could
;ruN,lcd
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 19, 1854.
any book be found, high or low, having the
marriage ceremony. Hence, to take it "off
hand" was the only chance. An unfortunate
and excruciating test for the newly elected
"Squar."
The company was now arranged into a cres
cent. The Squar was at his place, and in came
the parties—principals and seconds—the gal
lants each bearing a candle, which evinced the
extent and luxurient range in that neighbor
hood. With much assurance and dignity, the
Squar looked around, and whole ages of learn
ing seemed rushing through his mind. He
thought over everything he had dreamed, but
all in vain. There was a suppressed titter all
over the house. This admonished bim he must
say something, and, in agony of desperation,
he began—
"The State of Missouri,—county, I com
mand you to—"
This did not suit. Confusion and whisper.
ing perplexed him the more.
"Give him a chance—give the Squar a
chance," said a strong voice from the door.—
The "Squar" made another effort—
"Be it enacted by the General Assembly of
the State of Missouri-"
The "Sryuar" was again admonished, by tit
tering, that he must proceed with something.
In agonizing desperation he began:
"When in the course of human events it bc•
comes"—
Here be was touched by Mr. Wisdom. Af
ter a pause ho began again—
"Our Father who art in heaven—"
"He's repeating the Lord's prayer," says
one. The "Squar" raised his hopeless vision
to the ceiling for a short time, and began anew
—"Know all men by these presents—"
Here he was interrupted by a general noise,
and a voice from the crowd, "he is writing a
deed." Again he essayed—
" Witness my hand and seal, this the"
"Has concluded it—he will certainly go on
with the ceremony," said several voices.
"in the name of God, amen," he again be
gan. Laughter from every direction—sonic
swearing.
'lie is making his will," said one, "I thought
he would not he long—he looks prodigiously
sad," The next essay of the noble and learned
"Squar"was—
"Oh, yes! oh, yes! come into court. and—"
"Are we to have court to-night ?" ejaculated
some one.
"Oh, yes come into court!" replied anoth
er, from the door. The laughter was general.
It may be supposed that the bride and her
partner were somewhat hero do combat, espe
cially the former, but water and suitable aro•
=tics were near; and Squar Stumm was her
friend and near by—he was an untiring man;
and, after casting his eyes around the rosin,
he determined to try again:
"To the constable or any other lawful officer.
G reet ing."
"Let's go. He's going to have IA all arrest
ed," said several. Here a gleam of light flash
ed over the Squat's bewildered and forlorn
countenance. He ordered the parties positive
ly to hold up their right hands, and in a solemn
voice he said:
"You and each of you, do solemnly and truly
swear, in the presence of the present company,
and of the President of the United States, and
in the name of the Constitution of the United
States of America, that you will perform faith
fatly, and as often us you or each of you may
wish, all and singular, the duties and functions
of husband and wife, as the case may be, to
the best of your skill and ability, so help you
God, Amen !"
"Good as old ltyc I Old Kentucky forever!"
exclaimed the grateful Mr. Tom Wisdom.—
"come gentlemen," said lie, "we will all drink
with Squar Ben Buncum."
"Agreed !" shouted the enthusiastic and hap
py crowd:
"We'll dance nil night till broad daylight,
And go home with the gals in the morning."
A New York pill doctor, who advertised in a
Cincinnati paper, asked the editor to give him
a puff. The editor, good natured, wrote a "first
rate notice," from which we make the following
extract:
One single pill worn in each pocket, will in
stantly give ease and elasticity to the tightest
pantaloons. A little quantity will create an
appetite in the most delicate stomach, or phys
ic a horse. They will also be found to give a
rich flavor to apple dumplings, and a peculiar
zest to pickled oysters; they will thicken soup,
reduce corpulent persons, and are excellent
bait for mouse traps. One pill dissolved it; a
bucket of rain water will be found a perfectly
water proof lining for canal embankments; pla
ced in steamboat boilers, they will effectually
prevent their bursting, and greatly increase
the speed of the boats. As for their medical
qualities, they arc justly entitled to be called
"MEDICAMENTI'M GRACIA PROBATUM," i. C. "a
remedy approved by grace,"—for they efibetu
ally cool St. Anthony's fire, and stop St. Vitus'
dunce; they purify the pimples in the smallpox,
and radiate the red gum in teething; they re
duce white swellings and cure the black jaun-
dice, blue devils, yellow, scarlet, or any other
fevers. They cure also the thrash iu children,
the pip in hens, the staggers in horses, and the
nightmare is owls.
Jeremy Taylor says, if you arc fur pleasure
marry. If you prize rosy health, marry. A
good wife is heaven's last best gilt to man—
his angel and minister of grace innumerable—
his gem of many virtues—his casket of jewel?'
her voice is sweetmusic—her smiles, his bright
est day—her kiss the guardian of his inno
cence—her arms, the pale of his safety, the
balm of his health, the balsam of his life—her
industry, his surest wealth—her economy, his
safest steward—her lips, his faithful counsellor
—her bosom, the softest pillo• of his cares—
and her prayers the able,: advocate of heaven's
blessing en head.
The reporter of Sass Francisco News fur
nishes that paper with the following report of a
speech made by a California Auctioneer:—
"Ladies and gentleman, I now have the bon- 1
or of putting up a fine pocket handkerchief; a
yard wide, a yard long, and almost a yard thick:
one half cotton, and t'other half cotton too;
beautifully printed with stars and stripes on
one side, and the stars and stripes on t'other;
it will wipe dust from the eyes so completely
as to ho death to demagogues, and make poll
tics ito bad a business as printing papers; its
great length, breadth and thickness, together
with its dark color, will enable it to hide dirt,
and never need washing; going at ono dollar?
—seventy-five cents?—fifty cents?—twenty-five
cents?—one hit? Nobody wants it? Ohl thank
you. sir!
Next, gentlemen, for the ladies won't he per
mitted to bid on this article, is a real, simon
pure, tempered, highly polished, keen-edged,
Sheffield razor; bran spankin new; never open
ed before to sun-light, moon-light, star-light,
day-light, e • gas-light; sharp enough to shave
a lawyer, or cut a disagreeable acquaintance,
or poor relation; handle of buck-horn; with all
the rivets but the two at the ends, of pure gold.
Who will give two dollars? one dollar? half a
dollar? Whn ye long-bearded, dirty-faced re
probates, with not room enough on your phiz
zes for a Chinese woman to kiss, I'm ofPring
you a bargain at half a dollar! Well, I will
throw in this strop at half a dollarl—razor and
strop—a recent patent; two rubs upon it will
sharpen the city attorney; all for four hits; and
a piece of soap—sweeter than roses; lathers bet
ter than a schoolmaster; and strong enough to
wools out all the stains from a California poli
tician's countenance, all for four bits! Why,
you have only to put the razor, strop and soap
under your pillow at night, to wake up in the
morning clean shaved; won't anybody give two
bits then, for the lot? I knew I would sell 'em.
Next, ladies and gentlemen, I offer three
pair of socks, hose, stockings or half hose, just
as you've a mind to call them. Knit by a ma
chine made on purpose, out of cotton wool; the
man that buys these will be enabled to walk
till he gets tired; and, provided his boots are
high enough needn't have any corns; the legs
are as long as bills against the corporation,
and as thick as the heads of the members of
Legislature; who wants 'cm at one half dollar?
—thank., madam, dollar?
Next, I offer you a pair of boots; made espe
cially for San Francisco, with heels long enough
to raise a man up to the Headley grades, and
nails to insure against being carried over by • a
land slide; legs wide enough to carry two revol
vers and a bowie knife, and the uppers of the
very best horse leather. A man in these boots
eon move about as easy as the State Capitol;
who says twenty dollars? All the tax-payers
ought to buy a pair to kick the Legislature with
—and they will be found of assistance in kick
ing the bucket; especially if somebody should
kick at being kicked—ten dollars for legs, up
pers and soles? while souls and miserable souls
at that, are bringing twenty thousand dollars
in Sacramento! ten dollars! ten dollars!—gone
at ten dollars!
Next is something that you ought to have,
gentlemen; a lot of g, ood gallowses,—sometimes
called suspenders. I know that some of you
will after awhile be furnished nt the State's ex
pense, but you can't tell which one, so buy
where they're cheap; all that deserve hanging
are not supplied with a gallows, if so there
would be nobody to make laws, condemn crim
inals, or hang culprits, until a new election;
made of pure gum elastic—stretch like a judg
e's conscience,—and last as long ns a Califor
nia office-holder will steal; buckles of pure iron,
and warranted to hold so tight that no man's
wile can rob him of his breeches; are, in short,
as good, as strong, as perfect, as effectual, and
as bona-fide as the ordinance against Chinese
shops on Dupont streets—gone at twenty-five
cents."
A Powerful Puff.
According to my observation, the mere net
of dying is solemn i any sense of the word, a very
painful process. It is true that some persons
die in a state of bodily torture, as in cases of
tetanus; that the drunkard, dying of delirium
tremens, is haunted by terrific visions; and
that the victim of that most horrible of all dis
eases, hydrophobia, in addition to those pecu
liar bodily sufferings from which the disease
has derived its name, may be in a state of ter
ror from the supposed presence of frightful ob
jects which are presented to him as realities,
even to the last. But these and some other in
stances which I might adduce, are exceptions to
this general rule—which is, that both mental
and bodily suffering terminate long before the
scene is finally closed. Then as to the actual
fear of death, it seems to me that the Author
of our existence, for the most part, gives it to
us when it is intended that we should live, and
takes it away from us when it is intended that
we should die. Those who have been long
tormented by bodily ruin are generally us anx
ions to die as ever they were to live. So it
often is with those whose life has been pro
tracted to an extreme old age, beyond the usu
al period of mortality, even when thy labor tin
der no actual disease.—Mychelogical Inquirer.
WORTH Moans Tile MAN.—TheilligOeleS, of
ter all the honor of his life, sits down with this
conclusion, "that the way to the grave is more
desirable than the way to worldly honor."
His daughter being courted by ono of little
wit and great wealth, and another of little
wealth and great goodness, he chose the poor•
man for his son•in-law. For, said he, 1 will
rather have a man without money, titan money
without a man, reckoning that not money, but
worth makes the man. Being told Symmaehus
that he would teach him the art of forgetful
ness; sibling, he could remember enough, but
many things ho could not forget, which were
necessary to be forgotten; as the honors, glo•
rics, pleasures and conquests he had spent his
days in, were tau apt to transport him to vain
Marry.
Going, Going, Gone.
"Alas I married too early !" was the excl.
mation of one of Eve's fairest daughters as she
reclines! upon a couch wet with tears. She was
but 18, though from her care-worn countenance
one would think her twenty-live. Her name
was Lilly Deane, she was of a respectable and
wealthy family, and like moat other fair ones,
was early beset by a crowd of admiring suitors.
Among the most favored of these was Henry
Deane, a gay young man, rash and impetuous.
One by one her admirers, meeting with no en
couragement, discontinued their visits, and
Henry became her only suitor. The courtship
had proceeded for one year. when Harry met a
friend who had lately been married, and we
will detail their conversation.
"But am I not too young?" said Harry.
"Look at me," said his friend, "I am your
junior by one year, and am a happy man."
James escorted Henry to his house, which
was a perfect model of neatness. Harry's im
petuous disposition would not allow him to
wait—that very night he bent his steps toward
the house of his beloved Lilly and asked her
hand. He was accepted, and the marriage fix
ed to take place in three weeks. Harry went
home almost beside himself wills joy.
"Father," said he, "I am going to get mar.
ried."
Is it Pai nfal to Die's
P -IWEBSTEIt ,
"Alas! I Married too Early."
"Well, James, so you've been getting mar•
ried."
"Yes, and if you would do wisely, do the
same."
Slowly awl deliberately the old man arose,
and fixing his keen grey eyes on his son, said:
"You! u boy of 20 years, get married? Be-
ware—l have lived long enough to see many a
victim to early marriages. Mark my words,
you will repent ere many months have passed
over your bead."
They were married, and Mr. and Mrs. Deane
made their entrance into the matrimonial world,
the honey-moon passed agreeably, and the
young couple settled themselves down in life.
Harry had a clerkship of $BOO per annum—
which he believed would •soon be advanced to
$lOOO. He had always before spent his money
in fine clothes and fashionable amusements,
and at the end of the year never had a dollar
left; and the foolish fellow bad not bestowed a
thought on how he was to bear his increased
expenses. The house Won furnished neatly and
economically. About two weeks after the hon.
eyntoou Lilly said to Harry as he was about
going to his business :
"Harry, I want a couple of new dresses, so
you had better leave me a little money."
"Lilly," answered he, "if you are going to
be so extravagant, you will ruin me, I lost $lO
at cards last night and will not be able to give
you money till this month is out."
"Harry," she answered, which is the more
extravagant, to gamble away in a single night
$lO, or spend usefully the same amount of
money for articles which will last a year?"
"Madam," he returned, "I am master of my
money and will not always be tied down at
home."
Tears came into Lilly's eyes and a quarrel
ensued, for boils were of a quick disposition,
and Henry left the house in a rage. Scenes
like this soon became frequent. Harry spent
most of his money in the saloons, while Lilly
moped at home. A child was at length born,
but this was a new misfortune—an increased
expense. Lilly, too young to be oppressed with
the cares of children, gradually pined away;
Harry contracted a habit of drinking, and the
loving couple and their happy home soon be.
came very different. It was, indeed, a sad
change—Lilly died, and Harry, from whose
breast every feeling of love had not been exter•
urinated. soon followed her—ho died of remorse
and a broken heart. On their gravestones
should be inscribed—" Victims to an Early
Marriage."
Beautiful Apostrophe to the Bible,
We would be pleased to know the author of
the following most eloquent apostrophe to the
Bible. It appears to have been addressed to
young men. We have seldom read anything
finer:
"Study now to be wise; and in all your get
tings get understanding,. And especially would
I urge upon your heart-bound, soul•wrapt atten
tion, the. Book upon which all feelings aro con
centred, all opinions; which enlightens the judg
ment, while it enlists the sentiments, and soothes
the imagination in songs upon the harp of the
"sweet songster of Israel." That Bonk which
gives you a faithful insight into your heart, and
consecrates its character in
Shrines such
As the keen tooth of Time can never touch.
Would you know the effect of that Book up.
the heart? It purifies its thoughts and saneti•
Ges its joys; it nerves and strengthens it for
sorrows and mishaps of life; and when these
shall have ended, and the twilight of death is
spreading its dew damp upon the wasting fen.
tures, it breaks upon the last glad throb the
bright and streaming light of Eternity's morn•
ing. Oh! have you ever stood beside the couch
of a dying saint, when
"Without a sigh,
A change of feature or a shaded smile,
Ile gave his hand to the stern messenger,
And as a glad child seeks his father's arms ;
Went home."
Then, you have seen the con centred influence
of this Book. Would you know its name? It
is the Book of Books—its author, God—its
theme, Heaven, Eternity. The Bible! read it,
search it. Let it be first upon the shelves of
your library, and first in the affections of your
heart.
CATTLE von CALIFORNIA.—Last week during
'the high stage of water there was about 10,000
head of cattle on the south bank of the Arkaa•
sas, near the mouth ul• Grand River, waiting an
opportunity to cross. •these attic are mostly
from Texas, and are intended for California.—
Three or four persons have been drowned in at •
tempting to cross cattle. Four bndios russ,,o
through this place, one or n•hi"h •ra, buried on
the bank ut the t it cr.
•~ r
VOL. 19. NO. 29.
The Horrors of Starvation.
The following which is the experience of a
miner, we clip bent a recent California 'taper.
Two men sought a distant "digging," became
completely shut out by a heavy snow, and soon
consumed all their food. The writer says:
On the second day of our starvation, I found
the carcass of a mule, that I had lostin the fall,
and which the Cayotas had nearly devoured;
but on examination, we found a small piece of
flesh remaining on the lower thigh, which we
cut off' with the hope that we could eat it our
selves. But it was no go; it would not stick.—
We tried it every way, but to no purpose. It
was more than our stomachs could bear. What
now to do we could not tell. To get out was
impossible. Death seemed to stare us in the
face. My companion became so despondent
that he gave up all hope, and would not leave
the camp, although he was a much larger and
stouter man than myself; yet I kept up much
the best. But at the same time, I saw little
chance but to starve; yet I had a faint hope
that he would die first, and then--. For
fear that he would take advantage of me, I sel
dom let my rifle out of my hands. I kept on
my feet all the time, although I was getting en
ceedingly weak; and the snow on the river bar
was four feet deep, and from six to ten feet
deep on the mountains. Now all my fairy
dreams of wealth and happiness, when I should
get home, were turned into gloom and darkness
—gold had lost its lustre. To become a canni
bal was horrifying; the thought of having to
starve to death and become food for the wild
beasts was intolerable. Gold was of no use; I
would willingly given all I possessed for ono
pound of bread, but, alas! I could not get it.
My heart grew faint within me. I knew full
well that there was no chance for my men to
get to me before I must starve to death, unless
my companion should die, or I—. To be
come a murderer seemed too heartless and
treacherous, but what could I do? Is it not
better that one dies? Thus I reasoned and
struggled against reason, until hope was lost
in despair. But, bark! an idea occurs to me.
I remembered seeing the track of a cayota near
the carcass of that mule! Hope springs up,
new vigor is aroused. I snatched up my rifle,
and started off in the direction of the mule,
with a light heart, and eager quick step, with a
hope of yet escaping the dreadful calamity
which seemed to await nte. On my reaching
the carcass, I saw that there was a civeta in
the habit of coming there; to contrive some
way to kill it was the next thing to be done.—
After some examination, I posted myself be
hind a large rock. It was now getting near
dusk, and no coyote yet. I sat with eager ex
pectation, hoping the next moment would bring
some wild animal in sight. At the first appear
ance of the animal, I drew my rifle to ray face
and fired, inflicting a death shot. Now my
heart was filled with joy,and I felt that He who
created me was able to feed me, and that it
was no more than just that I should feel the
sting of the lash I had so much deserved from
the band of Him who had thus far blessed and
prospered me. Oti my return to the camp I
mot my companion, who, but a moment previ
ous, struggling in hopeless despair, might now
be seen with a brightened countenance, with
team of joy chasing each other down his ema
ciated cheeks.
The Long Surtont Fashion,
George W. Kendall, writing from Paris ti
the New Orleans Picayune, says:
"In the way of new fashions this year for
the gender masculine, the great "agony" is an
overcoat with the tail extending nearly to the
ankle. The new style, which is nothing but ,
return to the fashion which obtained when all
and singular of my age were boys, or, as the
ancient song has it,
"Long time ago,"
is terribly trying on very short men, or very
fat men, or for very tall and slim men, for that
matter. One must be about six feet and well
proportioned, in order to carry it off with grace.
Yet such an arbitrary jade is fashion, that the
high and low, so far as the stature is concerned.
must don the new garment. I saw a little fel
low stubbing along in front of me. the other
day, with a blueish•gray coat reaching far be
low his knees; not seeing his face, I took hint
for some old legitimist, who had purchased his
outer garment for the coronation of Charles the
Tenth, and who had kept it in a state of excel
lent preservation ever since. But as he turned
to accost a friend, I discovered that it was is
young buck of some twenty summers, whose
appearance forcibly reminded me of a stanza
in an ancient Ethiopian strain, the words of
which ran something as follows:
"Dere is an animal in de show,
Dat dey call de kangaroo;
He is got a tail jilt nine yards long,
But it's nothing to my long•tail bine.'
"Charivari has a capital caricature upon the
new fashion. A little fellow is aeon anxious
to go the whole length, but not being tall
enough to carry a coat saciently long, ho ha 4
mounted upon n pair of stilts, which set him ul.
to a goodly height. You can readily perceive
how redieulous be looks."
To PBODECE THE ENACT LIKENESS OE Axe
OBJECT, INSTANTLY ON PACEIL—This My' he
readily effected by layiti:s to paper on a table.
and holding a double convex lens (a common
sumglass) over it, and then placing a mirror
over the lens in an oblique position, so as to
face partly towards the object that is to be rep
resented. The rays of light, passing from thn
ohjeCt to the mirror, will be reflected downward
through the lens, and produce the likeness of
the object in full colors on the paper. This
experiment may be easily made in the evening.,
by reflecting the flame of the candle in ads
manner, which will appear very brilliant on
paper. But in order to render the reflection
of an object distinctly visible by daylight, it may
be requisiteto exclude nearly all the light, from
the paper, except what falls through the lens.
In all cases, the lens must be placed at a di,.
iancc above the paper, according to its Rau
at the dibtance at which it so old contract the
rats Of the bee to' the