~..., • i 0 , t ,./.„ , ~,i4 , • , t. I, , . ,14,, , (i„, 4LI ' ' ' 11 ' ' 1 ti?st, fi l 13 •;:, 41. 1.:. .., ' ' - . . t" - -;...4 WILLIAM BREWSTER, 1 EDITORS, 6AM. G. WHITTAKER, nuts* TOM CROSBY'S GREAT DEED OF MAGIC. BY BYLVANCS COBB, JR. TOM Crosby was a cobbler—or at least, -IE4 his neighbors called him—though he Vas in feet, one oh the best shoemakers in the country. He often had to turn appli cants away empty handed ; for he had al ways more work on his hand than he could attend to. Tont's cottage was near the centre of the village, and Isis little shop was close by it, and from morning till night the merry music of his lapstone rang out epos the air. Tom was a steady, industri ous man, and everybody liked him. He was always kind, always good natured, full of fun and anecdote, and above all else ho was one of those rare persona who spend their leisure moments in lookingalser their own business. Twn seas now forty years of age, and though he had always worked hard and steady, yet he llad not accumula ted much property: Ile owned the small hosi , e and the shop, together with some four acres of land, which lay back of the buildings, upon which he raised a goodly store or fruit and vegetables. Besides this he had some one or two hundred dollars laid safely away in a saving bank to serve him on n rainy day. iYes, Hannah, you only want back that old spirit of contentment.' •'There it is again, Tom Crosby. Be• cause I would hold my head up a little higher in the word, and be somebody then lam not contented ! Mercy on me would you have a soul contented to see everybody elan getting up, and the be obliged to dig and burrow here 1' 'But who is getting up, Hannah V 'Who ? Why—there's Sarah Brown, that was—now, Sarah Wilkins ; just look at her. She was where I was once, but now she has her coach and servants, and dre,ees in silks and sati e. A nd then look at Thomision, and Cowley, and Nathans. All of 'em building new houses, sad keep. ing their horses and servants. Look at them I say—und then look at us.' glut, my love, where shalt I find money to do such things 1' 'Find it where other folks find it. Shut up your little nasty shop, and go into some business snore promising. flow do other folks find money I'd like to know 'But other folks have a faculty which I have not; said 'Caen, in an earnest, argu taentive tone. have found perfect hap piness in my little shop; and in my neat, and comfortable home. Health hr;s been secured to us ; our children are blessin plenty was always ours, and no inns or woman cnn dun you or me fur debt Oth er folks may be happy with their great hou ses, and their servants, and their parties, but such things are not suited to us. Ah, Hannah, you could never be so happy as you have been were you to have Sarah Willcin's place. She may like it, but you would not.' 'Don't toll me, 'l'um Crosby. Don't you suppose I know what I should like? I say it galls me to thtnk that I'm never going to get above this kind of life. Others, who are no better than wo are, have money en- ough—' 'And don't we have enough, Hannah ? Don't we have everything we want 1' 'No, we don't. Look at Wilkins. See how his wife dresses, and how proudly she holds her head when she goes into the meeting. Only just think how she nods at me, hut never speaks. I declare, Tom it's to , Lad ' 'And yet, my love, Mr_ %Vilkins came to me yesterday, and wanted to borrow a hundred dollars.' Mrs. Crosby opened hor eyes, but before she could make any reply, somebody rap ped at the door. Tom answered the sum mons, and the caller was a boy, who had come after a pair of new boots. •Boots ?' uttered Mrs. Crosby to herself after her husband had gone to the shop. 'Boots! Mercy !—shall I ever escape that degrading sound r Mrs. Crosby was an excellent wife, and one of the best mothers, and no one could have kept the humble cottage looking more neat and tidy, than she did. 'rho little front room always presented the same spot. less purity of floor and wainscot, and the white curtains never had a spot or wrinkle. The kitchen was more flustered, but never dirty, while even. the ground floor of the wood-shed was kept swept and clean. The excellent couple had four children. Young Tom woe thirteen, and helped his father sore in the shop when school didn't keep. Willie was ten ; Lizzie five, and Effie on ly two. Tom named his first child him self. Mrs. C., had selected a very pretty r nate, but her husband teas determined that he should be a "young Tom," and the wife gave in ; but the rest of the children •she named herself, and we can see that her tastes differed somewhat from Tom's. Ile had wanted to call the second boy Pe• ter in honor of his grandfather; and then he suggested the name of Elannall for the first girl ; but his "plebetrn" (such was the tans Al N. C. used,) names were not quite up to the mark. But these children were good. They were in fact the best children in the neighborhood, for their father took great pains in the formation of their char acters, and their mother felt no greater pride than to have them appear well. People pointed to Tom Crosby as a pat• tern of happiness and peace ; and yet he was not always happy. .An evil genius had crept into his house—into his home— ' and he was growing more and more entry , py every day ; for Tem had never been happy. The pain or disquiet of a single individual in his family was sure to upset his own cup of joy. Now the truth ice, the sweet angel of content, which had for so long a time kept guard ove , . Torn's household, had flown a. way, and another spirit had come in, Mrs Crosby had become discontented and un happy. She had allowed the spirit ot en vy to gain possession of her soul, and from the moment she let the demon in, all her peace of minewas gone. 'Tom Crosby,' she said, after the child• ren had gone to bed, one evening, 'what's the use of living so ?' how?' uttered Pont, shaking the ashes from his pipe, and putting it away. 'Why—living as we do now. Plodding along year after year, in this same old train. I declare, I'm almost fit to go cra• zy when I think of it.' 'But Hannah, I thought you used to be very happy here.' 'And so I did ; but what does that sig nify ? Because I. was happy when I was a ohild, does that prove that I should al ways want to be a child I used to be litre when thought 'ye were on road to something better. I didn't think when you married me, that I was to live stuck down here in this plus., and that I was to grow old and die with the everla.:t iog thump of your old hammer dinging in my ears.' 'But what would you have Hannah the husband asked, with the tone and ex pression of pain. 'What?' uttered the woman energetical ly. .Why—l'd have some higher place in the world than it mere cobbler's wife Ah, Hannah, we were once the happi est couple in town, and you were then on ly what you are now, You only went what you lost.' Lea!, Mr. Crosby.' This simple scene will show somewhat of the state of mind Into which Mrs. C. had fallen. She had not always been thus, though she had always held little ideas of pride which her husband hed never felt. But about two years previous to the open ing of our story, Mr. Albert Wilkins had moved into town, and brought with him for a wife one who had been Hannah's schoolmate in times gone by. Mrs. W. not only mad.' much show of her wealth, but sheltie° slighted her oil friends, and this worked upon the feelings of the more humble female. Mrs. C. began to envy the wealthy woman, and from this sprang numberless consequences. It was some time before she really thought of aiming at such show herself. but the idea gradually came over her, and then she began to re flect upon her husband's position, and she was not long in making up her mind that he might have been w e althy had ho tried. It was its vain the, Torn urged the expen ses of his children, in vain that he plead• ed his own inability, and in vain that he urged the joys of contentment. The evil genius had gained possession of his wife's soul, and he could not exercise it by any argument or persuasion. Hannah became unhappy and miserable, and even her own children failed to give her joy. One day Tom was in his shop all alone, and he was weeping. He had just been to the house, and another "scene" had transpired. He had come back to Isis lit tle shop, and wtih his hands clasped, and his eyes turned heavenward, he had pray ed that God would move his wife's heart with sweet content once more. Hardly had he uttered this prayer, when the door of his shop opened, and a man entered.— This was no less a perstmage than John Newton, an old schoolmaster of Tom's upon whom fortune had smiled most bounteous. ly. Ile had lived in a neighboring town —in a large and thriving village, and had ' amassed great wealth without marring his 'heart. Ile seldom saw Tom now, but when he did meet bins, his greeting Wallas warm and genial as ever. 'What, Tom!' uttered Newton, as he " LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. 1' HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 5, 1856. saw thepoor cobbler's gloomy tearful tune; 'what is to pay nowt' 'Nothing,' was Tom's answer, But Newton was not to be put oil thus, and after considerable questioning Tont re- vealed the secret. He knew if he had a noble friend on earth John Newton was that friend, and he told all. Forsome time after he had done, Newton remained tho't ful and silent ; but at length a bright gleam rested upon his face. "rein,' he said, 'Hannah doesn't dream of the thousand and one cares from which site is free, and to which wealth would subject her.' 'Ay, that's it, Jack,' the cobbler cried.— That's it. She don't knew how such oho has to enjoy. She's got her heal turned. 'flit I think we can turn it hack again.' 'Eh 1' •%%r can turn it again, I say. By my soul, 'Fora, I have never Mfrs.(' money• because I knew you had enough—but I can give you something now. 1 will take my wife and children out of the way fur a wade, end you shall have the use of my house, plate, servants, dresses and all. Eh, how's thin 'l' 'row Crosby opened his eyes, and a.• ,tv,u as be cbuid cum;r, matters folly, he sal down by the snit: of his friend, and they talked over an huur. .1 say it's of no use, Tom, I'd just as lief die as live so. What's the use of poking along this way ?' .Well, Hannah, you sha'nt live so any more. You needn't look so surprised, for I mean just what I say. I've got the pow er and I can use it. I've found the Phi losopher's stone.' elite what, Tom ?' cried Hannah, .The Philosopher's Stone.' •Hat what's that 1' 'Why, it's somethiag that gives the ow ner power to be rich right otf. It I've a mind to lean wake up tomorrow morning with you and I both id a palace surround ed by riches.' Mrs. Crosby was slow to believe this, but at length tarn convinced . her. Vet she wasted to see tl•c stole. The cobbler took asuwll leather Log limn his pocket, and drew from it a round white stone near ly covered with strmge characters. .The biero,glyphics up et the last point of shop ticiem in Hannah's mind and she believed. Shortly afterwards they sat down to sup per. Mrs. Crosby did not observe her husband when he put a suspicious looking powder in the teapot, nor did she notice that her husband drank only milk and wa ter. She drunk her tea— more titan usual ani then arose. But somehow or other she forgot to clear s.vay the table. She sat down in her chair, and ere long fell a sleep. * • * • * • * Hannah Crosby awoke and looked a. round. She was not sure that she was awake. She leaped out upon the softcar. pet and rubbed her eyes. efunt! Torn! for mercy's sake do wake upy Mr. Cro,by nrose to a sitting posture and looked at his wife. They were in a large room; floor was covered with a car pet of downy softness ; the walls glittered with gold and flowers; the ceiling painted sumptuously ; the furniture of the I not costly kind, and the Led itself a very mar vel of wondrous extravag:nce. 'For mercy's salve, Tom, where are we 1' 'Why, in our polar-, to ho surd. Don't you reuie:utier what I told you last night ? But come to bed now.' .Are ye crazy, Tom Crosby? Arcu't the ,utt ?' 'Willa have we rot to do vin tl,•• son ? By-and-by I shall arise, an I Like,' your ser vants will coma in and help you dress,' 'Servants ? help mo dress Why, Tom Crosby what do you mean 1' 'Why, you wouldn't expose yourself to your own servants would ye? llereafter you must never get up till your servants come. They'll laugh at you if you do.' Shortly afterward, Tom arose, and dres• sed himself, and then spoke to his wife.— She looked at him, and started upright. 'Tom Crosby, is that you 1' .IVho else should it be I' 'Mercy's sake ! 0 Jerusalem I' And no wonder she was astonished, for never before had she seen Tom Crosby look like that. His pants were of black broadcloth, his vest of white sutin, his shirt bosom of the finest linen at arkling with diamonds, and his dressing gown of Genoa velvet. Mr. Crosby went out, and his wife was left atone. She had just got out of bed to look around, wh n she heard fuetsteps, and in 0 moment she was in bed again.— Three stout girls entered the chamber and approached the bed. Will our mistress be pleased to arise 1' asked the foremost one. The poor woman remembered what her considerable cake and confectionary, and hatband had said about the servants help• at the end she had to drink wine with five ing her dress, and at once arose. different persons. Her P osition was pain. At breakfast half a dozen servants wait- ful because it was so unnatural. Not one ed on the table. Mrs. Cro , by longed to I moment of peace and comfort could she speak to her husband, but she dared not find, but instead thereof, it was one con before so many, Her cup was filled with tinual scene of trial and trouble. But bed coffee, and she drank it. It was much time came—at two o'clock—and for awhile stronger than she was used to drinking, the martyr felt relieved. But it was only but so finely was it fixed that she loved it, for a moment, for upon finding herself s and she allowed the girl who waited upon lone with her husband, she remembered the table to fix her four cups. that her heart ached, and that her limbs After breakfast, Mrs. Crosby was con.' ducted over part of the house, and to her it seemed us though all the wealth of all the world must have been collected and spent in furnishing the place. The heavy gilt framed pictures, and mirrors, the sta ses, the carpets, the gold and silver urea• 1 ments, the servants—all, appeared to her' in bewildering profusion. At length she got an opportunity to speak to her husband. 'Tom.' she whispered, shall die !' Lord 'a' mercy ! 1 shall 'Why, what's the matter 1' said the hum. band. , 0 ? h. They've laced me up so tight I can't breathe.' '—alt !For mercy's sake Hannah, don't speak so. Why what will people sayo see a fashionable woman with such a large waist as you have. Did you ever notice Sarah Wilkin's waist ? Don't you realm ber how small and delicate it is !' 'Yes, I do remember, 'Porn; and haven't I told you a thousand times that she was lazing herself to death ?' 'Whew ! Why, Hannah, what has got into your head ? What have we got to Jo with health We have stepped at once in to fashionable life, and wc' must stick it out. Now if you have any regard for your reputation, you won't let your see valits see any of your ignorance. The idea of her servants seemed to set all right for a tine. Itut by.and by a new , idea came. •'rom,' she said, 'where are our chil (Iwo 2' • Oh, they're safe.' 'But where ?' •Well, Tom and Willie have gone out to a hoarding school, and Lizzie and Effie are in the nursery with their g iverness.' *Their governim! what d'ye mean, Tom Crosby ? Aren't I to have the gov erning of my own children?' •Are you crazy, Hannah? Would you trouble yourself about your chidrent Why I never heard such a thing. You'd lose your stand in fashionable society in a mo ment if they should find you fussing a ith your own children. You should have ser vants to take care of them. Dinner came at 4 o'clock. Mrs. Crabby was indignant at such heathenish ideas, but when she learned that all fashionable people kept the saute hours she was some what reconciled. 'We ale to have company for supper,' said Mr. Crosby. 'Supper ? Have we got to eat again be. fore we go to bed ?' 'Eat again. Why, you wouldn't go without your supper? Our friends, who have heard of our arrival are coining in.' About 8 o'clock Nit. Newton and his wife arrived, and with them came three couples more, all in the secret. 'lsn't that Efibi crying?' uttered Mrs. Crosby, as the distinct wailing of a child souneed upon the air. , John,' spoke 1l r. Crosby to one of the servants, 'go and tell the nurse to stop noise.' .No, no,' cried the startled. woman—the mother starting up now-4 . 11 go myself, poor, dear thing. She shall see her mann -11111, so she shall.' Cut Tout sprang forward and caught his wife by the arm. 'For heaven's sake !' he whispered in her ear, 'you'll ruin us. Don't let such things move you.' 'But how can I, Tom My soul, how can I ? Only think—our own little Effie— only a baby. Tom 'Airs, Crosby,' spoke Mrs. Newton, who saw the turn affairs had taken, 'will you allow me,' taking her to a seat, 'you have a child, have you ? Ah, an infant ? How I pity poor people who have to attend to their own children. Such plagues. Don't you think so P Mrs. Crosby said yes; but she knew she spoke falsely. 'What a inisera'le idea that is,' contin ued Mrs. Newton, 'which suppose that mothers must be fastened down to their children. However, poor peopla can't help it, I suppose 1' Awl yet Mrs. Crosby heard her little darling sob and cry, and her heart seemed rucking with pain; but she durst not inter fere now. At length supper was announced. It was (ploy's o'clock, Mrs. (Irosby at. were weary "By the powers. Hannah," uttered Torn °•isn't this nice 1 "faint much like cobbling boots and shoes, is it ? 0, how fine ! Dosen't it seem as though we were born for it I" The wife was silent foe some moments, but she spolca at length. and in a low, sub dued tone : 'Tom, where is little Effie ?' 'With the nurse, to be sure.' 'O, do go and bring her to too. Do.— that;fs a good—' I Somebody may hear you Hannah. You know what Mrs. Newton said to-night. She's the next richest to us of anybody in tho country.' The poor woman laid her head upon the pillow with a groan. 'lsn't it nice 1' uttered Tom, in a chuck ling tone 'By the big flukey, Hannah, only think how we'll live.' 'But 'twont bo always like this, Tom ?' 'No, no--rather guess 'twom Why we haven't begun yet. Just wait till folks get acquainted with us end begin to come from the cities to see us, And then when we begin to give our great parties. Won't it be nice 1' But Hannah made no reply and ere long she fell asleep ; but she did not rest. On the next morning 'l'om was up and off be fore. his wife awoke The first conscious ness she felt was rough shaking by the shoulders, and on looking up. she saw her servants. She arose at their bidding, but 01... had not been long on her feet whet she sank bark, for head ached, her !milts were weary. But she finally allowed her self to be dressed, and soon afterwardi she met her husband at the breakfast table.— she looked at the face of the marble cased clock on the mantle, and saw that it was eleven o'clock. She was upon the point of speaking to her husband about it, but the presence of the servants prevented. After breakfast, when Mrs. Crosby tho't of going to bed again she received an invi tation to visit Mrs. Newton. can't she said.' 'But urged the husband, , we must go.-- Sir John is one of the most important men in the country. We are in for it, Hannah and wo must stick it out. Remember, you have urged it.' , Hut--but, Tom, I didn't expect--' 'Didn't expect what ? Did yOu sup. pose that those who had wealth and high station enjoyed the same case and quiet that the peaceful cobbler owned? By the powers, Hannah, you musn't fail now -- You filled year own station well; you have a new one to fill now and you must come up to the mark. Sir John will expect us.' 'Sir John V ,Yos.' .Sir John had a very noble sound, and that was a little calming to the. poor wo man's feeling. However, at four o'clock the carriage was at the door, and when Mrs. Crosby saw it she forgot her pains for a while. The horses were coal black and harnessed almost wholy in silence.— Away the aristocratic couple were whirled to a ncble mansion, which Ntrs. Newman had engaged for the occasion, the real ow ner of which was introduced tp Mrs. C. as a .friend.' The rest of the day, and the night, were passed just about the same as on the previous day, and Mrs. Crosby had an op portunity to see that all rich people i must live alike. She had to take wine at sup- per, and the clock was upon the stroke of tour in the morning when she reached her own mansion. She had been laughed at by the servants for her awkwardness• •she had been sneered at by a young. consump• tivo miss because she could not play eu• chre, and the whole company had giggled at her funny remarks touching some but ter which chanced to be on the table. On the next morning—or towards noon —when she awoke, she found her servants about her as before. She asked them to send her husband to her; but they could not think of snit a thing. She simply sprang out of bed and caught a chair, and told them to disobey her if they dared,— They left the chamber, and shortly after wards Tom Crosby made his appearance. 'Tom,' the wife groaned, 'I can't stead this—indeed I can't.' 'Why, Hannah, are ye crazy ! Would r give up ell your wealth ,' 'No, no, I'd like to keep the money, ; but—but--0, ray head!' C.lt;Ct .keep the money ? And what would you keep it for ? We had money enough before fur the station we then held ; and all you ease to want was to make a show like hire Wilkins. Surely you wouldn't ; go back into your old home, and have to; take care of your own children, and do The Lesson's of Life. your own cooking, and hnd your own eggs Great calamities teach us many beautt in the hay, and have to go to bed every fel less . , and reveal to us much we had night at nine or ten o'clock. Why, you're , never have seen front common level of life. crazy, Hannah:' A flood, a famine, It conflagration, or 'And is it that stone that keeps us here, some great desolation, shows how much now, Tom?' I goodness there is upon the surface of ev ,Yes. But you see I've guarded a- „ yd . ) , l i fe ; how many generous feelings gainst nny such danger, for I've put the and kindly sympathies, and points of un- Philosopher's Stone in a place where no.' ion and practical fellowship, lie below the body'll ever think of looking for it.' I differences and political opinion, and nth , 'Where is it, Tom ?' I gious faith, and the prejudices and antag 'l've hung the bag right up in our chim- ; °n i t , s of party and sect—shows us, that ney, here.' I beneath all these, the noblest elements of 'l'llat is a good place,' said Mrs. C. and after this she proceeded to dress herself, our human nature still live, and wait only the impulse of occasion, to spring into life making her husband wait till she had fin- and action, and to discover to us how much ished, so that , them pesky servants would more there ism man to honor and love, not come nigh her any !note.' ' than the ordinary aspects of life led us to Breakfast was eaten, as usual, and suppose. The world, after all. in many after awhile, three ladies called, and sent things, is better than we take it to be, up their cards. 'Mrs. Crosby would have refused, but her husband overcame he r objections. So the ladies called in, and Mrs. Crosby was once more 'on nettles.' At five o'clock, they left, and shortly afterwards, Mrs. Crosby stole away to her chamber. Tom had been watching her. and he stole after her, and watched her movements through the key-hole. She first threw herself upan the bed, and there she lay some time. Next, she arose and went to the fire place. She removed the gaudy screen, and then reached up and took down the little leathern bag. She took out the stone and placed it upon the hearth. Within the fire place stood a pair of small silver andirons, and with one • of these Mrs C. deliberately smashed the stone to atoms. With a peculiar chuckle Tbm hastened below, and atten ded himself to preparing, his wife's tea.— , The meal to be eaten was denominated dinner, but when Mrs. Crosby came down ' she distinctly said 'supper !' She could eat but very little, but she drank freely of the tea, and within half an hour afterwards, she felt so sleepy that she could not keep her eyes opened, and she went to bed, despite her husband's ur gent arguments to contrary. Of course she was not long in falling asleep and slept soundly too. * * * * * * • "Font ! Tom V cried Mrs. Crosby, when she awoke. Turn ! Torn ! Fur mercy's sake look. Jehosophat and Jerusalem The son was shining brightly in at a little vine clad window, and the old cat was purring cosily upon the foot of the bed. The enraptured woman turned her eyes to the little crib that stood by the bedside, and there laid her darling Effie fast a• sleep. Goodness gracious !' said Tom starting up, 'somebody's stolen our stone! Our magic stone is gone !' 'flo, ho ! 'Twas I that did it I' the wife shouted, leaping from her bed, and dancing about on the painted floor. With that, she opened the door of the little bedroom, where, in the cit bed lay young Tom and Willie, and in the truckle bed Lizzie was sleeping. Torn was up by this time, and he proles• sed to be greatly alarmed. 'Alas ! Our wealth is gone 'Theo let it go !' retorted Hannah. For my part I've had enough of it 0, Tom, dosen't this place look grand ? 'But how lung will it be before you will be monnirrg after carriages and silks once more 'Never ! never !' At this moment Effie waked up, and gave a cry of joy us she saw 'mamma.' Mrs. Crosby, as soon as she could col lect her senses, began io think she had on. ly been dreaming, but when she heard Tom and Willie talking about the new school, and saw how the dust had collect. ed about the windows, ahe feared it was after all a reality. But by and by, she heard a bell ring, and when she found that it was really Sunday she knew that her past experience had been a substantial thing of real life, for it was on Wudnes day that she had first seen the magic stone. And then her headache and other bodi y pain yef remained to admonish her of the misery she had suffered. It was over two years before Mrs. Cros by discovered the secrect of that three day's experience she had had in -high life' and even then discovered it by accidental ly overhearing a conversation between her husband and hi!. Newton. Until then she had firmly believed that she owed the experience to a deed of magic. She now realized the many blessings she had enjoy ed,and no more gave trey to divenetent. VOL. XXI. NO. 10. For the Curious. Zufrieden ssin—ist grouse Kunst, Zufrieden scheine—blosser Dunst, Zufrieden wearden—grosses Glueok, Zufrieden bleibeu em Ileisterstueck Romance and Reality. The Satelusky Register narrates the fol lowing affecting story : In the Lunatic Asylutn at Columbia is a pair of insane lovers. Mental anxiety of a peculiar character is supposed to have deranged the intellect of the young man, who was sent to the Asylum some time ago, cured, it was hoped permanently, not sent home While at home he fell deep ly in love with a young girl, who returned his devotion. and they became tenderly at tached to each other. But unhappily, the malady returned upon the young man ; he was separated from the object of his love and cent back the Asylum. Left to her. self, to muse upon her bereavement, and the and destiny of tier lover, the mind of the ; girl became also affected. almost as it ' might seem. from sympathy—and it was not long hefore she, too, was immured with in the walls which sheltered him They ; are both there now. Occasionally they seem to have recovered their reason, and are permitted to hold interviews with one another. In one of these the poor girl begged her lover to marry her, but he re ' plied with a melancholy, real enough to bring tears from the listeners—'-Yea know that we cannot be married. E len, we are unfit for that huopioess—pour, un fortunate creatures that we ere The Frozen Dead. The scene of the greatest interest at the Hospice of ,the grand St. Bernard—a sol emn extraordinary interest, indeed—is that of the Morgue, or building whew the dead bodies of lost traveliers are deposited.— Ther- they are, some of them as when the breath of life departed, and the death un gel, with its instruments of frost and snow stiffened them for ages. The floor is thick with nameless skulls and bones, and hu man dust heaved in confusion. But a round the walls are groups of poor suffer ers in the very position in which they were found, as rigid as marble, and, is this air, by the preserving element of an eternal frost, almost as uncrumbling.— There is a :nether and her child, a most affectng image of suffering and love.— The face of the little one remains press ed to the mother's bosom, mly tae back part of the skull being visible, the body enfolded in her careful arms—careful in vain, to shield her offspring from the els, mental wrath of the tempest. The snow fell fast and thick, and the hurricanes wound them both up in one white shroud and buried them there.— There is also a tall, strong tnan, standing alone, the face dried and black but the un broken white teeth, firmly set and closed, eioning Item the fleshless jaws; it is most awful spectacle The face seems to look at you, front the process of the sep ulchre as if it would tell you of a death struggle in the storm. 'I here are other groups more indistinct, but these two are never to be forgotten; and the whole of these dried and frozen remnants of human ity are a terrific demonstiation of the fear fulness of this {{fountain pass, when the elements, let loose in fury, encounter the unhappy traveler. You look at all this through the grated window ; there is just light enough to 'peke it solemnly and dis tinctly visible, and to read in it a power ful record of mental and physical agony, and of material love and death. That lit. tle child hiding its face in its mother's be. soin, and both frozen to death l—one cam never forget the group. nor the manmade mori, nor the token of deathless love.", Wlmierioz of s
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