eT r z t H I 11 Akk 1,1 ting Dan 413)), jt titat. BY WM. BREWSTER TERMS : The "HUNTINGDON Jo UUNAL" ie published at he following rates : If paid in advance $1,50 If paid within six months after the time of •subscribing 1,75 If paid at the end of tiro year 2,00 And two dollars and fifti cents if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscription will be taken for a less period than six months, and no paper will be discontinued, except at the option of tiro Editor, until all arrearagcs are paid. Subscribers living in distant counties,or in other States, will be required to pay invariably in advance. ow The above tonna will be rigidly adhered 0 in all ems. kiSVE - Iwt§kiterilig Will be charged at the following rates: I Insertion. 2 do. 3 do. Six lines or less, 25 371 50 One square, (IC lines,) 50 75 1 00 Two " (32 " ) 100 150 200 Three " (48 " ) 150 225 300 Business Ines advertising by the quarter, Half Year or Year, will be charged the following rates: 3 mo - . 6 mo. 12 me. One square, $3 00 $5 00 $8 00 Two squares, 500 800 12 00 Three squares, 750 10 00 15 00 Four squares, 900 14 00 23 00 Five squares, 15 00 25 00 08 00 Ten squares, 25 00 40 00 GO 00 Butiness Cards not exceeding six lines, one year, $4.00. JOB WORK I sliest handbills, 30 copies or less, if 4 00 BLANKS, foolscap or less, per single quire, I 30 4or more quires, per " I'oo ar Extra charges will ho mode for heavy (imposition. t&l , * All letters on lutsiuess must be roar PAID to secure Attention..oj The Law of Newspapers. 1. Subscribers Who do not give express notice to the contrary, are considered as ivislany to continue their subscription. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuunee of their newspapers, the publisher may continue to send them until arrearuges are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or r , :rase to take their newspapers from the aNces to which they are direc ted, they are held responsible until they have settled their bills and ordered them discontinued. 4. ? . f . subscribers remove to cdhi r places without informing the publisher, and the newspapers are tent to the timer direction, they are held responsible. 5. Persons who continue to receive or take the paper from the ogice, are to be considered as sub scribers and as such, equally responsible ffir subscrip tion, as if they had ordered their names entered upon the publishers books. 6. The Courts hare also repeatedly decided that a Post Master who neglects to perform his duty of giving reasonable notice as required by the regula tions of the Post Office Department, of the neg. het of a person to take from the ye., newspapers addressed to him, renders the Post Muster liable to the publisher for the subscription price. lee POSTMASTERS are required by law to notify publishers by letter when their publi cations are refused or not called for by persona to whom they are sent, and to give the reason of such refusal, if known. It in also their duty to frank all such letters. We will thank post masters to keep us posted up in relation to this matter. (elert Petro. From the National Standard. THE AMERICAN EAGLE. 1 will build my nest on the mountain's crest, Where the wild winds rock my Eagle's to Where the lightnings flash, and the thunders crash, And the roaring torrents foam and dash, For my spirit free thencefourth shall be A type of the sons of Liberty. Aloft I fly, from my eyrie height, Through the valted dome of the Azure sky, On a sunbeam bright, take my airy flight And float iu a flaod of liquid light; For I love to play in the noon•tide ray. And bask in a blaze from the throne of day. Away I spring on a tireless wing, On a feathery cloud I poise and swing : 1 dart down the steep where the lightnings leap, And the dear blue canopy slowly sweep, For dear to me is the revelry Of a free and fearless liberty. Then give to me my flight to see The land of the Pilgrims ever free, I ne'er will move from the haunts I love But watch from the sentinel track above Your spirit free o'er land and sea; And exult in your glorious destiny. 0, guard yo well the land where I dwell, Lest to future times the tale I tell When slow expires, in mouldering fires, The goodly heritage of your sires, How freedom's light rose clear and bright Till ye quenched its flame in a starless night, Then I will tare, from your pennon fair, The stars ye set in triumph there : My olive branch on the tree I launch, The fluttering stripes from the flag staff wrench, And away nt flee, for I scorn to see A craven race in the land of free. Ct'butationai. By J. 4. Hall. ESSAY, Read by A. W. BENEDICT, Esq. be fore the Hun• iingdon county Teache•e' &dilute, December 22, 1854 : Subject—LAw OF SUCCESS. [CONCLUDED.] • The teacher in.st.exercise an inflexible will to love the school, the scholar, the book, and the hours of toil. No commun loge of the soil, exhibits so plainly to the external world its presence in the heart as love. The poet said : Like the va4; its which rotee ha , l once been clistil:ed, " I SEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING .LlOlll TO GUIDE UB, BUT TUZ INTELLIGENT, YATEHITIO, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATEL"-P,EWEBSTERI You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still." With that all pervading love for the several objects of your care and guidance, and the instruments of your labor, with a manifest pleasure for the hours you spend in a never ending round of lessons and toil you impres upon the tender tablet of the child's heart a kindred love which assumes and asserts its power ; and the wayward, the thoughtless, the stupid, the indolent and even the mischievous and rebellious are carried captive by the law of lore. Every where, and at all times you must present unmistakable evidence that you have but one aim in all your study, toil and love, and that aim, the present and fu ture happiness, well being and prosperity of those you love. I have said present, because I desire here •to urge the impor• tance of making the school room a pleas. ant and a happy place for the teacher and the taught. What a grievioun hindrance to success is the feeling, too often preva lent in the school room, that the hours of school are the hours of task and toil, irk some alike to pupil and teacher, endured by one as an eye•servant and a prisoner ; and by the other as an overseer and a jai• lor. With such a presence in the school rootn, oh how dull, how purposeless, and how void of good arc the study hours.— But how changed the scene and its results, when all is cheerful joy stud light hearted hope, and warm and zealous love and pleasant, gay and earnest zeal to make the present gladsome and delightful, because it secures a future full of fruitful and sub stantial good. $1 25 t 50 2 50 When the teacher shall have attained all these ends, and when he shall have made himself master of himself, of his books, and pupils, he has used the means, and success will wear her proudest cha plet for his crown. Have I convinced you, that you are all directed to your destiny by imperative law ? have I made apparent the impor tance of obedience to those laws which se cure progress and prosperity ? Have I showed you that thus you arc measurably the arbiters of that destiny? Have I sat isfied you that it is the duty of every per son who assumes the high and honorable responsibility of a school teacher, to adopt as the law of his life, the la -v of success? If I have done all this, I have succeeded beyond my most sanguine hopes. If I have secured any one of these things, all my labor is well requited. Whether I have, or have not, I have endeavored to perform the friendly office for my fellow laborers in the cause of schools, which the wise man says, iron will perform for iron. To sharpen them for the duties of life. "There is a divinity which shapes our ends, Rough hew them as we may." And it is that rough hewing of life I would by the law of success, make a co worker with that divinity, so that our ends should be sharpened to secure the largest measure of complete success for the teach er, and pupil, and I would convince the listless and careless teacher that there is no divinity" that will command success to them, while they remain careless and listless ; and of the wilfully dull, the idle, the selfish, the ignorant and the self-wise, whose pride of opinion spurns the coun sel and care of his companions in the pro fession. I say there is a law which marks them all for a final expulsion from the school room. They will be known by their works, and they cannot be allowed to mar, what they have not helped to make. UTisctliancotts. Personal Appearance of Washington. "From the Republican Court, or Ameri. can Society in the Days of Washington," the following in copied : From the notebook of the lat e Mr. Hor ace Binney Wallace, of Philadelphia, I am permitted to transcribe n record of some conversations with his mother, Mrs, Susan Wallace, in which that lady—so eminent for whatever is beautiful and no ble in her sex—disclosed her recollections of Washington's habits, personal appear ance, and manners. On the removal of the government to Philadelphia, Mrs. Ma ry Binney, mother of Mrs. Wallace, res ided in market street, opposite to General Washington's—the door of her house a few paces further east. It was the Gen eral's custom, frequently, when the day was fine, to come out to walk, attended by his secretaries, Mr. Lear and Major Win. Jackson—one on each side. He al ways crossed directly over from his own door to the sunny side of the street, and walked down.. He carts dre,,cd in black HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 1855. and all three wore cocked hats. She rev er observed them conversing; she often wondred and watched, as a child, to see if any of the party spoke, hut never could perceive that anything was said. It was understood that the aids were kept regal distance. General Washington had a large family coach, a light carriage, and a chariot all alike; cream colored painted with three enammlled figures en each pan el, and very handsome. Ile drove in the coach to Christ church every Sunday mor ning with two horses ; drove the carriage and four into the country—to Landsdowne, the Hills, and other places. In going to the Senate he used the chariot with six horses. All his servants were white and - wore liveries of white cloth, trimmed with scarlet or orange. Mrs. Wallace saw General Washington frequently at public balls. his manners there were very gracious anti pleasant. She went with Mrs. Oliver Wolcott to one of Mrs. Wash ington drawing rooms. The General was present, and came up and blowed to every lady after she was seated. Mrs. Bin ney visited Mrs. Washington frequently. It was Mrs. Washington's custom to re turn visits on the third day; and she thus always returned Mm. Biuney's. A foot man would run over, knock loudly, and announce Nirs. Washington, who would then come over with Mr. Lear. Mrs. Wallace met Mrs. Washington iu her mother's parlor; her manners were very easy, pleasant and unceremonious, with the characteristics of other Virginia la dies. When Washington retired from public life, Mrs. Wallace was about nine- teen years of age : The recollections of Richard Rush on the subject are in agreement with these of Mrs. Wallace. That accomplished and distinguished gentleman has com municated to me a very graphic account of some interesting scenes, of whi ch he as an observer, about the close of 'Wash ington's first administiatron. Looking upon the old Congress Hall, at the cor ner of Chesnut and Sixth streets, a few years ago, he says: "It recalled a scene never--no, never--•to be forgotten. It was, I think, in 1794 or 1795, that as a boy I was among the spectators congrega ted at this corner and parts close by, to wit ness a great public spectacle. "Washington was to open the session of Congress by going in person, as was the custom ; to deliver a speech in both houses, assembled in the chamber of the House of Representatives. The crowd was immense. It filled the whole area in Chesnut street before the State-houses, extended along the line of Chesnut street above sixth st , and spread north south some distance along the latter. A way kept open for carriage, in the middle of the street, was the only space not closely packed with people. I had a stand on the steps of one of the houses in Chesnut st , which, raising me adore the mass of human heads, enabled me to see to advan tage. After waiting long hours, as it seemed to a boy's impatience, the carriage of the President at length slowly drove up, drawn by four beautiful bay horses. It was white, with medallion ornaments on the panels, and the livery of the ser vants, as well as I remember, was white turned up with red--•at any rate, a glowing livery; the entire display in equipages at that era, in our country generally, and in Philadelphia in particular, while the seat of government ; being more rich and va ried than now, though fewer in number. Washington got out of his carriage, and, slowly crossing the pavement ascended the steps of the edifice, upon the upper platform of which he paused, and, turn ing half round, looked in the direction of a carriage which had followed the lead of Isis own. Thus he stood for a minute, distinctly seen by everybody. Ho stood in all his civil dignity and moral grandeur--- erect, serene, majestic. his costume was a full suit of black velvet ; his hair, ir; itself blanched by time, powdered to snowy whiteness, a dress word at his side, and his hat held in his hand. Thus he stood in silence; and what inomentsthose wore! Throughout the dense crowd profound stillness reigned. Not a word was heard not a breath. Palpitations took the place of sounds. It was a feeling infinately beyond that which events itself in shouts. Revery heart was full. hi vain would and tongue have spoken. All were gazing in mute, unutterable admiration. Every eye was riveted upon that form--the greatest, purest, most ex alted of mortals. It might have seemed as if he stood in that position to gratify the assembled thousands with a full view of the Father of their Country. Not so.-.- He had paused for his secretary, (then, I believe, Mr. Dandrigo, or Colonel Lear,) who got out of the other carriage, a char iot, decorated like his' own. wcre- tary, ascending the steps, handed him a paper, (probably a copy of the speech he was to deliver,) when both entered the, building. Then it was, and not till then, that the crowd sent up buzzes, loud, long, earnest, enthusiastic." Of the simple manners of Washington and his family we have an interesting ac count in the Travels of Mr. Henry Wan sey, F. S. A., an English manufacturer, who breakfasted.with them on the Bth of June 1794. " I confess," he says t , 1 was struck with awe and veneration when I recollected that I was now in the presence of the great Washington, the noble and wise benefactor of the world, as Mirabeau styles him. When we look down fr im this illustrious character on other public servants, we find a glowing contrast ; nor can we fix our attention on any other great men without discovering in them a vast and mortifying dissimilarity. The President seemed very thoughtful, and was slow in delivering himself, which in duced some to believe him reserved; but it was Bather, I apprehend, the result of much reflection, for he had to me an ap pearance of affability and accommodation. He was at this time in his 03rd year, but had very little appearance of age, having been all his life so exceedingly temperate. There was a certain anxiety visible in his countenance, with marks of extreme sen sibility. " Mrs. Washington herself made tea and coffee for us. On the table were two small plates ofsliced tongue, and dry toast bread, mid butter, but no broiled fish, as is the general custom. Miss Eleanor Custis, her grand-daughter, a very plea sing young lady of about sixteen, sat next to her, and next her grandson, George Washington Parke Custis, about two years old. There were but slight indications of form, one servant only tiding, who had its livery ; and a silver urn for hot water was the only expensive article on the table. Mrs. Washington struck me as something older than the President though I understood they sere both born the sa me year ; she was short in stature, rather ro bust, extremely simple in her dress, and shore a very plain cap, with her gray hair turned up under it." 'This description of Mrs. Washington corresponds perfectly with that in her portrait by Trumbull, painted the previous year, and now in the Trumbull gallery in New Haven. Mr. Wansey says her drawing rooms were objected to by the democrats .t as tending to give he •a supereminency, and as introductory to the paraphernalia of courts." With what feelings the excellent woman regarded these democrats is shown by an anecdote of the same period. Sho was a severe disiplinarian, and Nelly Cus tis was not often permitted by her to idle or follow her own caprices. The young girl was compelled to practise at the harpsi chord four or five hours every day, and one 11 - kerning, when she should have been play. leg, her grand mother entered the room, remarking that she bad not heard her tau sic, and also that she had observed some one going out whose name she would like very much to know. Nelly was silent, and suddenly her attention was arrested by a blemish on the wall, which had been newly painted a delicate cream color.— " ! it was no federalist," she exclaim ed, looking at the spot just above the set tee ; a none but a filthy democrat would mark a place with his good for-nothing heed in that manner !" The public business so entirely occu pied his time, that Washington had no op- portunities of visiting Mount Vernon. In 1703, however, he was nearly three months during the terrible period of the prevalence of the yellow fever in Phila delphia. The disease broke out some time in August, but he continued at his post until the 10th of September. He wished to stay longer, but Mrs. Washing ton was unwilling to leaving him exposed in such danger, and he could not think of hazarding her life and the lives of the chil dren by remaining—' , the house in which we lived in," he says ; "being in a man ner blockaded by the disorder, which was every day becoming more and more fatal." Two days after Washington left, Mr. Wol cott, wrote to his father ; The apprehen sions of the citizens cannot be increased, business is in a great measure abandoned; the true character of man is disclosed ;and he shows himself a weak, timid, despond ing, and selfish being. The ravages of the dreadful sickness are extending, with ad, ded circumstances of terror and distress ; many now die without attendance. The kind attention, the tears of condolence and sympathy, which alleviate pain, and in some degree reconcile the dying to their fate, urn frequently omitted by the nearest friends and relldives ; when generelly be stowed they Am tea Om pric.. cf Among the public characters attacked by the fever were Mr. Willing and Col, Hamilton ; but they both recovered. The officers of government were dispersed, and the President even deliberated on the pro priety of convening Congress elsewUre ; but the abatement of the disease rendered this measure unnecessary, apd near the close of November the scattered inhabi tants returned to their homes, and Con gress reasembled on the 2nd of December. In 17114, his official duties not permit ting him to make more than a flying visit to Mt. Vernon, and Mrs. Washington de ciding against a summer residence in the city, the President took a house in Ger mantown, where with his family, he re mained during the months of July and August. _ _ Defective Memories. John, Daniel, and Warren Townsend, of North Reading, (Mass) were examined at Lowell on a charge of violating the li quor law. 'rho witnesses were numer ous, and, according to the testimony, they were the most rJrgettul set of witnesses ever brought into court. Nearly all of them testified that they had drank liquor on the day when they appeared be:ore the court. Four of them wore committed to jail for appearing in court in a state of partial intoxication, the court deciding that witnesses should keep their intellects clear, and regarding the drinking of li quor five times in one day by a witnesses contempt of court. Several of them did not know as they ever bought any liquor at Townsend's ; but Robert H. Bird must be the real original Know-Nothing, accor ding to his testimony, which is reported as follows : " I don't know Daniel Townsend ; I don't know as I know him at all ; I don't know his house ; I was in a tavern at North Reading perhaps one time, but I cannot remember if I was ; I cannot remember whether or not, I was in it two times or ten times ; I cannot remember how often, or what I went after ; live in North Read ing, two miles from the tavern ; my mem ory is very poor, I cannot remember any thing; I was iiithe lock-up to day; I can not remember if I drank any liquor today; I cannot tell who is my next neighbor; I keep moving all the time; my name is Bird, and I keep all the time moving; don t know as I have a wife ; I don't know as I have a Bird child ; I don't know as I ever done anything for a living " To the court . "I don't knowif I live two miles or one mile from the tavern; I don't remember anything about my folks; I was in the lock up 'wo or three hours to day ; I came up here to get some runt; they said to me come up to the Police Court on Sat urday and I came up yesterday." Bird, With three other witness, was committed until next day, when the case was to be resumed. SINGING CONDUCIVE TO HEALTH. It was the opinion of Dr. Rush that sing ing by young ladies, whom the customs of society debar from many other kinds of healthy exercise, should be cultivated, not only as an accomplishment, but as a means of preserving health. lie particularly in sists that vocal music should never be ne glected in the education of a young lady; and states, that besides its salutary opera lion in soothing the cares of domestic life, it has a still more direct, and important effect. 'I here introduce a fact,' says Dr. Rush, 'which has been subject to rite by my profestion'. that is, the exercise of the organs of the breast by singing contributes to defend them very much from those dis eases to which the climate and other causes expose. The Germans aro seldom talc ted with consumption, nor have I ever known more than one case of spitting ' blood amongst them. 'lbis, I believe, is in part occasioned by the strength which their lungs acquire by using them frequent ly in vocal music which constitutesan essen tial branch of their education.' 'The music master den academy,' says Mr. Gardner, has furnished mu with as observation still more in favor of this opinion. He informs me that he has known several instances of persons strongly disposed to consumption, restored to health by exercising their ungs by singing, - Elfr Can any of our business mon solve the following puzzle, which we clip from nn exchange : Il H W LGE VDAS NPNIS HSDORY AFSIHFO TUB,SEGAT OSLIOPSEH "SLAVIR NHISWIS • ER BESTOWST IRADVAN IMS E L F ()TONI HR T I ECT ON 4dit itlt Yptinotir. TIIE DOESTICK LETTERS-CONTINUED. EMIT COMPETE COLLECTION. Origlniclle‘hTs of Men and Things. ISCSIMIOTS ASPECTS OF AMERICAN LIFE. Vl—Doestioksegea the American Trage. di. NEW YORK, No. 7,001, Narrow st. I have alway had a passion for theatri cals, and was, at one time of my variega ted existence, much more intimately con nected with the stage than at present--and on reaching this City I felt, of course, a great desire to behold again the theater, with all its brilliant fascinations—the light, the music, the varied scenery comprising gardens, chambers, cottages, mountains, "cloud•capped towers and gorgeous pal (laces," barrooms, churches, huts and boy els,—to look again upon the glass jewels, the tinseled robes of mimic royalty, the pasteboard banquets, and molasses wine, and all the glory, "pride, pomp, cireum "stance," and humbug, which I once “knew so ' , well," "et quorum magna pars fui." So, with my trusty friends, Damphool and Bull Dogge, I wended my way to the Metropolitan Theater No. 1, to see and hear the distinguished Mr. Rantanrave Ilellitisplit, the notorious American trage dian, in his great, original, unapproacha ble, inconceivable, inexplicable, incompre hensible part of "What a bore the last of the Vollypogs." The house was full, and what a spec tacle for a modest young man—the front rows of the dress circle being occupied almost exclusively by ladies, undressed in the latest fashion, appeared a perfect sea of bosom. As the modesty of the third tier ladies did not permit them to vie in this respect with their more fashionable sisters, they had staid away to entertain some audi ence, not so refined, whose less cultivated taste would not require so complete an ex posure of the—in fact,as Micawber would remark—the maternal fount. There were several babies in the crowd, who, evident ly hungry, kept up a constant wailing— poor things! I really pitied them—but I presume they were ignorant of the sin of covetousness, and only wanted what they thought they hada right to—they had not yet learned, as we had, that, although they might see, they must "touch not, taste not, handle not." It was bad en ough to starve them, but to tantalize them in this manner was really barbaric. And opera-glasses, too, were continual ly leveled at them, by people who, impel led by a laudable curiosity, were anxious to see all that could be seen. [Damphoul says that when you see a woman with one of these implements, you may be sure she wants to be looked at—and called my attention to the confirmatory fact that all the Ladies with the finest busts and the best developed forms wore their dresses the lowest in the neck and sported the big gest opera-glasses.] [Bull Dogge asserts that they were invented by the author of "Staring Made Easy," and "A Treatise on the Use of the Globes.L] By-and-bye, after a season of tramping by the intelligent audience, which seemed, by its measured regularity, to intimate that they had learned the motion in the tr' -dmill, the bell jingled, and the mem tiers of the orchestra entered, one by one. After the audience had endured the pro longed tuning of the instruments, conduc ted in a masterly manner by the leader of the band, the music got a good ready for a fair start, and nt the word "go," they went. I could not critically analyze the uproar, but it seemed to be composed of these elements--a predominance of drum and cymbals, a liberal allowance of flute and horn, a spasmodic sprinkling of trom bone, a small quantity of aboo, and a great deal of fiddle. 'lle tumult was directed by the leader, who waved his fiddle over Isis bead, jumped up and down upon his seat, kicked up his heels, disarranged his shirt-collar, threw his arms wildly about, stamped, made faces, and conducted him self as if he was dancing a frantic horn pipe, for the gratification of the crazy whims of au audience of Bedlamites. I At Iciigth the curtain went up—two men came on and said something, then two others Caine on and did something— then the scene changed, and sonic others came on and listened to a shabby-looking general, who seemed to be their "magnus Apollo," and who certainly was very long winded. Nothing decisive, ho sever, came to pas, until the long-expected entrance of the great Hclhtccplit himself et entuated. 1 !TM . cmtf,' •hot T VOL. 20. NO.. 11 rille, yet serene majesty of his appear• once. When I so w the tragic codfishy expression of his eyes, I was surprised ; when 1 observed the flexibility of Ins ca pacious mouth, opening and shutting like a dying mudsucker, 1 was amazed. When my eye turned to his fingers, which work ed and clutched, as if feeling for coppers in u dark closet, I was wondeustricken— but when my attention was called to the magnitude of his legs, I was fairly elec trified with admiration, and could not for. bear asking Bull Dogge if those calves were capable of locomotion. The admiring audience, who had kick ed up a perfect young earthquake wh.2n he came on, only ceased when he squared himself, put out his arm, and prepared to speak. That voice ! Ye gods! that voice! It went through gradations that burners voice never before attempted, imitating by turns the horn of the City Hall Gabriel, the shriek of the locomotive, the soft and gentle tones of a forty horse power steam saw-mill, the loving accents of the scissor grinder's wheel, the amerous tones of the charcoal.man, the rumble of the omnibus. the cry of the driver appertaining thereto, rising, from the entrancing notes of the in furiated honor dog, to the terrific cry of the oyster vender—causing the "Supes" to tremble in their boots, making the fid dlers look round for some place of safety, and moving the assembled multitude to echo back the roar, feebly, it is true, but still with all their puny strength. [Bull Dogge says he got that awful voice by eat ing pebble stone lunches, like the man is the book.] Several times during the piece I was much affected—when he wound his arms round his wife, stock his head over her shoulder, and kissed the back of her neck, when ho made a grand exit, with three stamps, a hop, a run, and two long strad dles—when he talked grand about the thunder, and shook his list at the man in in the flies—whoa he killed the soldiers in the council room, shouted for them "come one•und all," and then run away for fear they would—where he swore at the man who did not give hint his cue— when he knelt down and said grace ovet his dead boy, and then got up and stuck his wife with a butcher knife; but in no part of the whole piece was I so impres, ed with his pathetic power, his transcen dent genius, as when he laid his haud sol emnly upon his stomach, and said, "What a bore, 0, cannot lie." [Damphool asked in a whisper, if Othello's occupation was gone.] And at the death scene, when hu was shot, I was again touched to the heart; first he trabbled about like a top heavy li berty pole in a high wind; then he stud: out one leg, and wiggled it, after the man ner of tt galvanic bull frog ; flea sat down on the floor, opened Ins eyes and looked around; then grappled an Indian on one side, clutched a soldier on the other, strug gled to his feet—staggered about like a drunk Dutchman, made a rush forward, then a leap sideways, stiffened out like a frozen pig, collapsed like a wet dishcloth, exerted himself till his face was the color of an underdone beef steak, then sunk back into the arms of the Indians, whis pered to let him down easy, rolled up the whites of his eyes, settled himself to die, concluded to have a partint Larse at the surrounding people, took ug swear, laid down, and a noise ltr is throat like castinets, n couple of vigorous kicks, and a feeble grunt, gave up the ghost. [Bull Dogge asserted that he would re. suscitate, brush the dust off his legs, take some gin and sugar, and come out and make n speech,] all of which be did ; the butcher boys in the gallery, [Damphool says liellitisplit conunenced life as a res pectable butcher boy, but has degenerated into the mats he is,] gave three cheers. Ifellitisplit opened his mouth four times, shut it thrice, [he went off with it wide open,] and backed off with a grace which we may suppose would be exhibited by a mud-turtle on the tightrope. Damphool was in ecstacies --Bull Dog ge asked me how I liked the 'treat Amer. ican, &c." I replied that I knew not which most to admire, his euphonious voice or Isis tremendous straddle, but that (notwithstanding the late appropriation of the mune by a rival show-shop,) I was ready to maintain with the butcher boys that there was but one Metropolitan Thea ter, and Hellitisplit is its profit. Admiringly, Q. K. PHILANDER DOESTICKS, P. B. Cfr A poor fellow, having got hts skull fractured, was told by the doctor tha the brain wan 'visible ; at which ha re• marked, ..Do write to father, for he alwayi declared I had none." ser Refusng to pay your printer's bilis and robbing a hen roost, are the saint: anng in Put , h, onl• differen!