Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, March 05, 1856, Image 1

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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-
'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
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
* • * • * • *
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
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
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.
, 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
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
.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
.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!';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•
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
'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