WM. BREW*ZTLIC
VOL. XXIV.
' 6 Si
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Scrofilla, or King's Evil,
Is a constitutional disease, a corruption of the
blood, by which this fluid becomes vitiated,
weak, and poor. Being in the circulation, it
pervades the whole body, and may burst out
an disease on nay part of it. No organ is free
from its attacks, nor in there one which it mny
not dentroy. The scrofulous toilet is variously
caused by mercurial disease, low living, dis
ordered or unhealthy food, impure air, filth
and filthy habits, the depressing vices, and,
above all, by the venereal infection. What
ever he its origin, it in hereditary in the con
stitution, descending "from parents to children
unto the third and linarth gew , vation ;" indeed,
It seems to be the rod of Item who says, I
will visit the iniquities of the fathers upon
their children."
Its effects commence by deposition from the
blood of corrupt or ulcerous matter, which, in
She lungs, liver, and internal organs, is termed
tubercles; in the glands, swellings; and on
the surface, eruptions or sores. This foul cor
ruption, which genders in the blood, depresses
the energies of life, so that scrofulous , constitn
tions not only suffer from scrofulous com
plaints, but they have far less power to with
stand the attacks of other diseases; cense
ueigl,eastnuinbers.,,serist by disorders
arc still rendered fatal by this taint in the
system. Most of the consumption which de
cimates the human family has its origin directly
in this scrofulous contamination ; and many
destructive diseases of the liver, kidneys, brain,
and, indeed, of all the organs, arise from or
are aggravated by the same cause.
Ono quarter of all our people are scrofulous;
their persons are invaded by this lurking in
fection, and their health is undermined by it.
To cleanse it from the system we must renovate
the blood by an alterative medicine, and in
vigorate it by healthy food and exercise.
a medicine we supply in
AYER'S
Compound Extract of Sarsaparilla,
Tll, nas , t of ranecly• which the medical
skill of (Air times can devise for this every
where prevailing and fatal malady. It is com
bined irons the most active remedinla that have
been discovered for the expurgation of this foul
disorder from the blood, and the rescue of the
eystem from its destructive consequences.
fence it should be employed for the cure of
not only scrofula, but also those other affec
tions which arise from it, such R 3 ERUPTIVE
and t311:1), DISEASES, ST. ANTIIONVB FIR.,
ROSE, Or ERYSIPELAS, PIMPTXB, PUSTULES,
131.OTCIIRS, TILATRE and BOIL% TIMERS. TETT=
and SALT Mimi, SCALD HEAR, RiNowonm,
Iturieurtrisu, SvPllitcric and NIEUCURIAL Dso.
RASES, DROPSY, DYSPEPSIA, DEBILITY. and,
indeed, ALL COMPLAINTS ARISING FROM Vrrix-
Tau ml Dutra. lkoon. The popular belief
in impurity rf the blood" is founded in truth,
fer scrofula is a degeneration of the blood. The
particular purpose and virtue of this Sarsapa
rilla is topurify and regenerate this vital fluid,
without Which sound health is impossible in
contaminated constitutions.
Ayer's Cathartic Pills,
FOR ALL THE PURPOSES OF A FAMILY PHYSIO,
are so composed that disease within the range of
their action can rarely withstand or evade them
Their penetrating properties search, nod cleanse,
and invigorate every portion of the human organ
ism, correcting its diseased action, and restoring
its healthy vitulities. As a consequence of these
properties, the invalid who is bowed down with
sin or physical debility is astonished to find his
or energy restored by a remedy at once ea
r I,lc .d inviting.
clit only du they cure the every-clay complaints
of every body, but also ninny formidable and
dangerous diseases. 'the agent below named I.
pleased to furnish gratis my American Almanac,
containing certificates of their cures and directions
for their use in the following complaints: Costive
ness, Heartburn, Headache arisiirgirom disordered
Stomach, Nausea, Indigestion, Pawl in and Morbid
Inaction of the Dowels, Flatulency, Loss of Appe
tite, Jaundice, and other kindred complaint.,
arising from a low state of the body or obstruction
of its functions.
Ayer's Cherry Pectoral,
FOR TILE RAPID CURE OF
Coughs, Colds, Influenza, Hoarseness,
Croup, Bronchitis, Incipient Consump.
lion, and for the relief of Consumptive
Patients in advanced stages of the
disease.
So wide is the field of its usefulness and so nu
merous are the eases of its cures, that almost
every section of country abounds in persons pub
licly known, who have been restored from alarming
and even desperate diseases of the lungs by its
use. When once tried, its superiority over every
other medicine of its kind is too apparent to escape
observation, and where its virtues are known, the
public no longer hesitate what antidote to employ
for the distressing and dangerous affections of tl
pulmonary organs that are incident to our climate.
While many inferior remedies thrust upon the
community have failed and been discarded, this
has gained friends by every trial, conferred benefits
en the afflicted they ran never forget, and pro
duced cures too numerous and too remarkable to
be forgotten
PREPARED BY
DR. J. C. AYER & CO.
LOWELL, MASS.
JGZ)/ Run, Agent Huntingdon, Pa.
Nei. )0, IPIP.--ly.
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'BELE. 07. P E TRY,
_ • _
Why, Bless Her, Let Her Go.
ny witom?
Some time ngo I fell in love
With pretty Mary Jane,
And I did hope that by and by,
She'd love me hack again.
Alas I my hopes, when downing bright,
Were all at once mr de dim;'
She saw a chap, I don't know where,
And fell in love with him.
Next time I went—(now how it was
I don't pretend to say,)
But—when my chair moved up to hero,
Why hers would move away.
Before, I always got a kiss„
(I owe, with some small fuss,)
But now, forsooth, for or fun,
"Tis non•cor-a'-a•Lnss."
11'011, there we sat, and when we spoke,
• Our conversation dwelt
On everything beneath the sun,
Except what most we felt.
Enjoying that delightful mood,
Who then should just step in,
Bat he, and all the world would I
Have rather seen than bind
And ho would sit down by her side,
And she would, all the while
Ile pressed her band within his own,
Upon hint sweetly smile.
And she would pluck a rose for him,
So bright and fresh and red;
Acd give me one which hours before,
Was shrunk and pale and dead.
And she would freely, gladly sing
The Sollg3 he did request;
The alien I asked were just the ones
She always did detest.
I ruse to leave—" She would be glad
To have me longer stay;'
No doubt of itl—no doubt they wept
To see me go away.
I sat me clown, I thought profound,
This maxim wise I drew:
Ti. Bask: Vitt., to like a girl
Than make a girl like you.
But, after all, I don't believe
My heart will break with woe;
If she's a mind to love that chap,
\V by, bless her, let her gel
LIR
THE UNKNOWN.
BY MARGARET VERNE.
•tUuod ht.:lvens, what a pvelty foot!'
Iha VXdfllillloll WU an iev.iluntary
one. To
.this Joy I um nut inclined to
believe myself responsible fur it, however,
the crusty shop keeper with whom I was
about completing a bargain fur a valise
might be pleased to differ with me upon
Cie subject, for, when he turned from his
tiresome harangue, in a way over arid
above ceremonious, and gav n un udmirma
glance at the pair of daintily guitered feet
just making their appearance upon the
steps ol• a carriage which at the moment
had drawn up in front of the door, he gave
me such on emphatic nod of displeasure no
would have annihilated a less formidable
chap than myself, I. only nodded hack
rienin in a most opproved style, saying, as
plainly as I could, with my eyes, us I
threw a bank note upon the counter:
'My good sir, pretty feet were made fur
our admiration, and—'
1 could say no more, for while I was
speaking in my silent any, the rarest of
little women danced into the shop upon
the rarest of !ado feet. Dear me ! what
a thump my sensitive heart gave under my
bull waistcoat as I looked at tier, and with
what u bound a went up along my throat,
us though it had something of un idea of
leaving me entirely, to take up its abode
with the little bird of a creature who was
fluttering about the store as if she had a
dainty nest hidden away among the large
twee of merchandize, and she went
through this pretty little prelude of flut
tering and flying, that we [night not learn
in what nook she folded her tremulous
wings,
That is just what I want, sir!
What a voice! l startled as though ev
ery robin's song that had been bun since
4he days of Adam had concentrated into
one burst of melody clone to my ear. She
had paused before a large block travelling
trunk, and was now running 'one little
white hand criticisingly over the polished
top—pulling at the fastenings with her
slender hrigers—turning the key backward
and forward in the ob.linato lock, and
tipping her bead upon one side in a medi
tative way, as though the destiny of worlds
hung upon her decision.
'1 l:ke that tiunk,' she said.
She glanced at me, us ehe spoke, with
her bright inquiring eyes. I liked that
trunk, too ; and so, before I could help
myself, my bead was bowing out the idea
of her contemplated purchase. She had
blushed a little and turned • away, and
then drew front the reticule her plump,
pottlylooking purse. ( I like to see a
‘ c LIBERTY AND UNION. NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. "
HL NTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1859.
woman carry a well filler' money bog !)
Oh, envied trunk, how easily that could
pass into her possession !
'Send it, to No. —, Tremont House, at
once, if you please,' said she.
I started again as though I had been
surprised by a sodden shock of no earth
quake. No. ! the next roam to mine !
Was it possible that I bud been so near
this sweet divinity without knowing it ?
possible that I was a mun of so little sen
sitiveness that I could breathe wider the
some r rot with such an angelic specimen
of womanh o od for flee whole consecutive
minutes without knowing it ? con
viction that it was so strangely humiliating
and bow I should have managed myself
under it I was at a loss to tell, if ut that
moment the cambric 'kerchief of the lady
fluttered down to thu floor. I sprang
towards it like a hungri , wolf, overturniog
the obsequious shopkeeper, who was quite
as intent on performing :he little act o;
gallantry no myself.
'Thank you.'
That was ell—spoken in a low, sweet
voice, with a elementary lilting of the
bright, beautiful eyes. All ! and in the
name of goodness was it not enough?
'Send my volt.: to No. --. Tremont
[louse,' 1 culled to the shopkeeper, as she
run up the steps of het carritge. '1 ant
going out in the eleven o'clock Seuthren
train !'
I thought there was a slight tripping
ad' the exquisite little bonne , its I spoke.
A little inquisitive motion, I neon just
like that of to bird while listening. Per
haps I was mistaken, although I am sure
I spoke loudly enough to have been beard
in Charlestown ; but I had a purpme in it,
and it was nu 0110 . 9 aflair but my own.
I dtd not like the idea of leaving the
city in two short hours' time• I it,, cer
min I did not. But it was an ',tango
mem which I could not easily retied, from.
Hotel bills were paid, trunks packed,
tickeas bought, and friends at the South
anxiously awaiting my appenince. But
I ti,d made Ow most of soy time. I did
not rest until I. learned the name of the
fair occupant of No. --, and then I tutu
aged to send her a beautiful boquet in a
somewhat mysterious man ner,accompanied
by a tore which could not be ps,sed by
with unliderence. 1 hen I contented my
self by praying that there would be ,ono
delightful Toole out' to the pretty little
romance which I was weaving about my•
self; that the thread of fate would throw
the beautiful woman, unknown tat the
hotel save by the registered C0g4401.11,
Emily Curlew—across my pathway a tniao
not far distant.
With the thoughts iu toy wild, hot
brain, I found myself flying rapidly away
front our ttiod,rn Athens I hail a hm•
time of it, all to myself—dreamed as initey
dr.•unts in the beautiful style of Ike
eel no could be crowded into 'a
three vol
ume novel, aid all in the short space of
one hour. One hour, and then, oh ye
gods, what an awakening there wits! The
ears were stopping at out 1 y station, when I.
heard a voice—the voice, I moon, in all
the worl,l there could be but one pair of
lips through which flowed such sweet
rout,, like music. t turned erutind. Oh,
jubilate! there set my little woman of the
travelling truck,—the heroine of my dream
—my dream of an Emily Corlew! I
think 1 stared directly in her face for full
three minutes, before I observed that she
curried in one the briquet I had sent
he•r. When I sow that, I found myself
bowing to her. Found myself I say, for
lon sure I did not mean to. She half
bowed in return, and then turned her face !
away in bashful confusion. The next mo•
ment I was to the seat beside her, beg
ging her to excuse my seeming rudeness;
telling her that I wits daring and reckless
in toy bearing, but 1 trusted not disrespect
ful— that I could not rest contented until I
Nits assured that she forgave me.
, Would she forgive mu?" I asked.
She bowed her hind and smiled. She
hoped my face was a true index of my
character ) she said, in her pretty pleasent
was.
1 hoped so, too! It it was not it shou Id
be. 1 vowed that to myself a score of
times a minute. 1 grew to perfection (in
resolution 1 !neon) in a remarkable short
spac“ of time.
, Would 1 favor her with my name?"
she avkod of roe, looking very prim and
proper.
1. presented her with my card.
'Robert Wheaton!' she murmered mu
sically to herself. .Son of Judge Whets
ton's? she contimied inquiringly.
'Son of Judge Edward Wheaton,' 1 re
plied a little pompously, for 1 had a bit of
snobbish pride in my composition.
'Wheaton!'
She said the name over to herself as
though it was familiar to her. Heavens!
1 had never before known with what .
beautiful cognomen 1 min blessed. The
music ol her voice rendered it almost di-
She was sure that she heard a friend of
hers mention the faintly she said, she wns
Indeed pleased to meet me.
11 she was pleased, what in the wide
world was 1 ? 1 think 1 mus, have been
sort of delirious that afternoon—how the
itfternoon was drawn up to the coning writ
something 1 coulJ not account for. 1 knew
that 1 had been and still was sitting by
the side of Emily Carlo .0, to the ears, knew
that she had been telling ur,, in het quiet,
graceln I way, of her beautiful home in
Georgia; how she bad left it several
months without even taking. t. servant with
her, that she might gratify her wild :nivel'.
tura. Spirit; that she was not sure that
she was right; that it was not, in reality.
safe far n woman to be travelling about
without protection, but she had not tout
with insult, or had the slightest indignity
offered to her. (I blenched my
wonted above nli:to see the man who would
dare to wrong. her even in thought.) Did 1
think sh , ., was acting properly, . she asked
of me.
.Most certainly I do,' 1 answered.
gPeople are not in reality, an destitute of
disc , rnment as to read n face like yours
wrongly,' 1 continued gallantly.
She bowed arid smiled. The sun gleam•
ea up n moment from the west, rod throne
one kiss of its golden light upon her lace.
Her face! Had Hiqtven been robbed of
its busty, that our common earth might
be bless ed ? lrr iny heart 1 was certain
that it was
.At what place ore you going to stop
to t' las ked, finding room in my nund
for the first moment for n thought t-eyoutl
ILe Lewthlering present.
to V ;' ut l you—where are
you going?"
.To 0—; 1 unswert d, lucking
my ticket up my sleeve, that nho melt DIA
("Derry tt.ut 1 w..q ticketed two hundred
1111104 beyond. .13ut do you intend to
ride all night?'
'On, most certainly ; nothing could
tempt her L. forego that pleasure. There
was something exceedingly faciinning
being whirled al .u, during the dark hours
at the mercy of the daring steam horse.—
, Did l out think 1'
Oh. yes, 1 had always myself ihought s.o
althought it never had been my pleat lire to
01vvt with a lady e.ho agreed Nall me up
on the suhjeci. Uh, most outrageous of
fals. I.s.n.ds! 1 detested travelling by eight t
from lay very heart 1 luel al,veys aboinitia•
ted it.
She thought C --- one of die most de•
lightlul places in the world, she 'veto on to
say. She was Intending to remain there
some time or until her father and sisters
came on from Giorgio to meet her, which
was their intention. Several years before
they had all spent their summer there.—
Did I not think it charming?
"Oh, perfectly delightful ! One of the
swei is spots 1 ever visited. I thought 1
could remain there always without grow
ing weary of the place!' 'What another
Ito! I hated C--; I had never attempt
ed but once to spend any length of Ulna
there, and then had come near dying of
ennui.
I wish I could 101 l you plainly of that
nights ride, or enumerate actually the num
bers of truth. my little bird of an Emily
Curlew witched me into telling. But that
would bit utterly impossible. One must
have been placed in a similar situation in
appreciate ruine hilly. Think of it; abataing
until the'wee smut' hours nyont the night,'
till a pair of the brightest eyes in the
world grew dull and heavy, and the lain•
tiest of heads bows and nods in every di.
rection for want of firm pillow on which
to rest. 'Chink of that little head droop.
hug down to your shoulder—closer, until
at last it rests there contentedly and con 6
dingly. Think of watching all the night
—of wrapping the refractory shawls and
scarfs about the tender, unconscious little
larva—of nestling it close to your side,
and wishing that it would always be night,
Think of all this and you will have a faint
idea of my midnight ride over the Smith•
ern road with beautiful Emily Curlew.—
But I did not grow weury or sleep—not
Quite to the contrary. I hailed the bra
light of morning streak.% up the east
with something like a sigh. And when
my beautiful charge awakened,and looked
about confusedly and blushingly, 114 she
became conscious of where she had been
resting. I would have sold my life a doz
en times over rather tha n have given up
my memory of the blamed night. I did
n ut tell her so in words, but I gave out any
thoughts to her in my eyes.
The day after 111 . arrival in C—,l tel.
egraphed to my friends of my unexpected
detention, and then gave myself up to Em
ily Curlew. What followed was like a
dream to me—l suppose I may re. well say
was, indeed a blessed dream or love. I
know that I grew to think 0 one of
the dearest spots out of paradise, and my •
self the happiert frllow this side of heaven.
Each successive day was but a perfect
round of bliss. There were walks nod
rides in the cool, delicious mornings: con.
fidential teti , a Lutes during the long, draw.
sy afternoons, and sails and horse!nick ex
cursions in the s‘veet, dewy evenings,
there were half checked expressions con
stantly upon the lips—little tender stories
forever in the eyes, and happy suggestive
blushes always breaking up over the pet••
feet cheeks of Emily during that time of
happiness.
Who wonders that I blessed my stars
continually for my luck—blessed them for
the independent fortune which I bait bean
trying my best for five whole years to
squander—ble ised them that it had beer:
too largo to squander—blessed the hour
that had found me in need of a travelling
valise, and the idea that prompted me to
go South to visk my relative?, and to stop
nt C— for the sw,et sake of Emily
Curfew. I beleived, at lust, that the time
had come for toe to marry (I had coine to
that conclusion u dozen times before in my
life;) that I should be u better man if my
life were constantly purified and exalted
by the presence of a 'sweet gentle woman,
I was wild and reckless—at Limes beyond
ell account, ‘Votildn't she—but
the use ut talking? I didn't think of half
the nobl.; things dolt I am telling you
about. The fact as it stood, plain arid un•
varnished, was that I wanted Emily Col,
few for my wife; indeed, telt as though I
should expire if I couldn't have her, and
expire if I could So one bright MO011•
light night, when there wits a fitting hush
upon everything, and a quiet stealing gent•
ly frum Nature down to the passionate
depths or our hearts, I ventured with fear
nun ;retooling, IL/ WV n,u rout y of city lure,
.Could she—would she love M
Iler small white hand trembled like
bird for a moment above 'nine, and then
rested softly upon it. She bent the beau.
tifol head to hide her confusion, but
could see how the telltale color rushed
up to her cheeks and forehead, and even
burned like scarlet (lams upon the very
tips of her pearly ears.
Could she love tile—would she be my
wirer I salted.
The little white hand went fluttering
up to nip shoulder and rested there confi
dentially then, n 3 if nerved by a sunder
impulse, the round perfect arm went sud•
dimly about my neck, the rose red lips
met min- in one entracing, ecstatic kiss,
and the dainty head dropped upon my
breast• Good hetivens! what man could
ask n truer answer?
•No may hen v. , n bless you, as 1 always
shall, my sweet darling Emily!' 1 said
when 1 could find breath to speak.
She did not answer hut rose and put my
arms gently away. I thought at the time I
had ueverseen so much jay upon a human
countenance as 1 then saw diming upon
here.
'Would I excuse her?' she asked fa It e r
Ingly. For a while she did not want to be
with me even—but alone with her benuti.
ful, happy thoughts She would see toe
in the morning—she would be more her.
self again then.
Kissing. her over and over again, I nllow
ed her (but oh! so reluctantly.) to go front
me, and then rushed out into the quiet
night to cool the fever of my heated brnin•
It was past one o'clock when 1 went to my
hotel, and then not to sleep. Thu great
reality of my happiness put-every sign of
rnst and slum ber nosy from me. On ,
blissful, happy thought made the nigh
more brilliant and glorious than any day. f
1 shall never forget how slowly the mar.
sing hours of the following day drugged
along. It seemed to me that the break.
last gong would never sound, and then
that the time world never come far me to
go and see Emily. But I went at last;
by my faith I swear to ynu I went. I
went up tuber private parlor, as had been
my custom for a week or more, and rapped
gently on the door. No answer. I rap•
ped again. Perhaps she was ill. I tore
my hair nt the mere thought. When I
grew tired of that amusement, I turned
again to the door and rnpped loudly and
clearly. A servant pushed his head out
of the next number sad glanced inquiring
' ly at me.
'Miss Corlew?' I said nodding towards
! the door.'
'Miss Corlew, gone; went on the four
o'clock morning train."
I sprang toward the woolly head like a
tiger. What did the scoundrel mean by
telling nie such non•enset I anted hint
to explain hintselt, in a voice n trifle softer
than thunder.
'Miss Corlew took the early morning
train,' ens all be could tell me.
I milted down stairs to the landlord.
'Couid he tell me anything about ;Miss
Curlew's leaving so suddenly?'
'No, he coo IA not. She cAllez for her
bills the night hekre, and left in the first
up train that. morning'
, Did she leave it note, word, anything
!or the?'
I turned away. Imagine, if you can,
the inviable state of my feelings. I rush
ed to the post office and inquired fop a let
ter. Nothing there! I went to my ho
tel and asked for n sten and message
a rote—not a message! I went once more
to the deserted stopping place of my be
loved Emily, and plied men, landlord, arid
servants with questions. But they could
trot give me any information upon a sub
ject which they knew as little as myself
Then I went La the telegraph office. Per
haps Emily had received sudden news
from home of no alarming nature. I
would send a dispatch to her father at once
The dispatch was sent to Rev. Arthur CrJ•
lew, Augusta, Ga.
'No such clergymen there,' the answer
said 'There must be some mistake.'
'Episcopal preacher,' was sent back by
way of explana , ion.
`No such preacher there,' prusisted the
obstina;e message.
I know better,' 1 answered, impatient•
ly, putting my hand in my breast pocket I ,
for toy pocketbook. What did it mean?
As true as faith, my money wai gone!
three cool thousand at one sweep! 1 had
smite loose change about my person with
which I paid for my despatch—not a cent
short of Heston. But where was my tor n
ey gone? M that moment a queer light
I , egan to break upon my brain. As it
came more clearly upon ino, 1 grew crest
fallen, and, like a churned cur, 1 stole beck
to the hotel. Then 1 went silently and
without any ado to my room, and sat down
and looked at the carpet.
1 looked at the carpet till afternoon
without pausing long enough to dine or
smoke. When it grew sufficiently dark
for lights, 1 turned my eyes from the cat •
pet to the wall, and stared at that till
Then 'he order of exercises
changed a little and 1 nmused myself sev
eral hours by prefixing any number of po
culinr epithets to my mune. 1 will leave
the render to judge as to their suture.—
After that, 1 turned my attention to my
valise for a short time. When 1 got
through with that , it was lying a heap of
tinshapen rubbish in the corner. Then 1
said a few sweet things about my betroth
ed—toy little bird of an Emily Curio v,
and I thounht(perhaps 1 was wrong) that
I could tell why she gave me such a long
delicious kiss on the night of my proposal
that she might draw away my pocket book
as the smite time she did my senses.
Somehow reader. 1 detest trunk shops
1 think the plan of presenting ladies with
boquets originated with the Hottentots,
and that travelling by railroad originnted
in purgatory. 1 can't bear little birds of
women; 1 hate little feet. Hearing
voice from n womras lips like the melody
of a ravin, always reminds me of the way
my little jail-bird sung. Deuce take the
saucy little pick-pocket•. Deuce take her.
Agreeiig with Her,
A intilisteT wto ;as a bit of a humorist,
°Le to,k tea with a lady of his parish who
prided herself upon her nice bread, and
who was also addicted to the foolish trick
of depreciating h r viands to her guests.
As she passed the nice biscuit to the
minister, she said--
'They ore not very good, 1 sm . almost
ashanwd to otlbr then.'
The minister took one, looked at it rath
e•r dubiously, and replied:
'They are not as good as they might
he.'
The plate was instantly withdrawn, and
with !tightened color the lady. exclaimed:
'They are good enough for you .'
Nothing more was said about the bis
cut.
Mir Pulite Society--A certain prolihc
something• which gives berth every week
or two to a suioid t or elopement, s se
duction era bloody murder.
Prosecuting for Character--Starting n
fine silvery gray fox, and pulling up with
the capture of a villainous skunk.
Wealth—Driving a fine team of horses
through the day, and having a splendid
pair of Met mares drive you all night'
Modern Gentlemen—The latest style of
Coat, punts and vest, walking with a man
in them.
wodern Ladies—Travelling adrertiie
ment for retail Milhum, Stores .
Editor & Proprietor.
NO. 42
POETRY.
The Seuing Machine.
BY A CONNECTICUT YANKEE.
Got one? Don't say sof Which did you get?
One of the kind to open and abet?
sva it, or hire it? How much did you pay?
Does it go with a crank or a treadle? Say.
Um a single man, and somewhat green.
Tell me about you: sewing machine.
Listen my buy, and hear au about it--
I don't know what I ahould do without it.
I've owned one now for more that a year,
And I like it so well I call it "my dear"...--
'Tis the cleverest thing that ever was seen,
This wonderful family sewing machine:
It's none of your angular Wheeler things,
%Villa steal shod beak and east iron wings;
h's work would bother a hundred of his,
And is worth a thousand! Indeed it
And has a way—you needn't stare—
UI c.inbing and braiding its own black hail!
\line is not one of those stupid affairs
That htands in the corner with whatnots and
chairs,
And makes that dismal Singery noise,
Which all the eureka of sewing destroys;
No rigid contrivance of lumber and steel,
But one with a natural spring in the heel.
Mine is one of the kind to love,
And wears a shawl and a soft kid glove,
Has the merriest eyes, and a dainty foot,
And spots the eharmingest gaiter boot,
And a bonnet with feathers, and ribbons and
hoops,
With any indefinite number of loop,
None of your patent machines fur me,
Unless Dame Nature's the patentee;
I like the sort that can laugh and talk,
And take my arm for an evening walk;
That will do whatever the owner may choose,
With the slightest perceptible turn of the screws.
One that can dunce, and—possibly—flirt,
And make a pudding as well as a shirt;
One that can sing without dropping a stich,
And play the house wife, the lady or witch—
Ready to give the sagest advice,
Or do up your collar and things so nice,
What do you think of my machine?
Ain't Utile best that ever was seen?
Tisn't a clumsy mechanical toy,
But Iles!' and blood! Hear that my boy!
With a turn for gossip and household affairs,
Which include,youhnow, the rowing of taro•
'rut, tut—don't talk, I Rae it all—
You needn't keep winking so hard at the wall;
I know what your fidgety famblings mean.
Would you like. yourself. a sewing machine?
Well, get one, then—uf the same design—
! There was plenty left when I got mine.
_._--
"Judge Underwood, a well known
member of the bar in Upper Georgia,
and father of J. W. H. Underwood, can.
tlidate for Congress in the fifth district
who died in Marietta , eceritly, was widely
known ns well for high legal attainment,
ns for his facetious qualities, and up to the
time of his death kept every body in a
g ent humor with his sharp sarcasms and
quaint conceits. Few men possessed
finer legal talents, and without the in
tense application .vith which most men
purchase success, he occupied a highs pa.
vition at the bar.
The death of this Judge at Marietta
calls up n joke of his, which we must be
pardoned for introducing—rathe- improp
erly, perhaps--in connection with this
notice:
Many years ago, when Marietta was a
rustic viil ige, compared in its present con
dition, the Judge was preparing to leave
town after a long and tedious session of
court. Seated in his buggy, he called to a
brother member of the bar, now a distin
guished lawyer of that place, who was
often boasting of the attractions of Marietta
'General,' said the Judge, intend to
came to Marietta to die.'
Struck vel:h the serio-comic mama' in
which the remark was made, Genesal 11.
replied--
, Then you nave changed) out mind in
reference to onr town, Judge?'
'No, General, but 1 do not know a place
on the green earth 1 could leave with leas
regret;" and with a gracious nod of adieu,
rode off amidst a universal laugh a.. the o=-
pi rise of the General.
It a singular coincidence that atter
the lapse of many years, the q taint predic
tion of the Judge should literally be 'el. , -
ha—du:pea Dispatch.
A 'Worse'
1 plows,
1 sows,
1 reays,
I mows,
1 gets up wood for winter,
1 digs,
o hoes,
And latent grows,
For whet 1 knows,
['in indebted to the printer,
1 do suppose,
All knowledge flows,
Right. from the pnntnig press,
So•of 1 goes
In these ere clothe,
And settle up,
1 guest