F • S An. • - egS z o isupa.r..i i im A .11 Alva - t. 7b :IQ a'cireJY 4 0.4 4:14D0 Office of the Star & Banner COUNTY DUMPING, ABOVE TIIR OFFICE OF TILE REGISTER AND RECORDER I. The ST Et & RRPUBLICAN BANNER ie pub 'kited at TWO DOLLARS per annum (or Vol- UTIO of 5'2 numbora,) payable half-yearly in ad vance: or TWO DOLLARS & FIFTY CENTS, if n pail until after the expiration of the year. 11. No subscription will be received for a shorter period than six months; nor will the paper be dis continued until all arroarages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. A failure to notify a dis continuance rail! be considered a new engagement and tho paper forwarded accordingly. AUVEIITISIIMUTR not exceeding a square will be inserted Timm: times for $l, and 25 cents for each subsequent insertion—the number of in sertion to be marked, or they will be published till forbid and charged accordingly; longer ones in the same proportion. A reasonable deduction will be made to those who advertise by the year. IV. All Lottersand Communications addressed to the Editor by mail muatbe post,paid, or they will not be attended to. TILE GARLAN.D. —"With sweetest flowers coricli'd From ♦arious gardens cull'd with care." LIVES UTUALIV: TIT N. A. 11/VEN. I love the dews of night— I love the howling wind, I lovu to hear the tempest swoop O'er the billows of the deep ! For nature's saddest scenes delight Tho melancholy mind. Autumn! I love thy bower, With faded garlands Brest; How sweet alone to linger there, When tempest ride the midnight air, To snatch from mirth the fleeting hour, ThpSabbath of the breast! Autumn! I love thee well, Though block thy breezes blow, I love to 3eo thy vaporerise. And clouds roll swiftly round the skies, When from the plain and mountains swell And foaming torrents flow. Autumn! thy fading flowers Droop but to bloom again! So man though doomed to grief awhile, To hang on Fortuna's fickle smile. Sliall glow in heaven with noble power., Nor sigh for peace in vain. THE NEWSPAPER. Lot where it comes before the cheerful fire, Damps from the press In smoky curls aspire; (As from the earth the sun exhales the dew,) Erc we can read the wonders that ensue: Then eager every eye surveys the part, That brings its favorite subject to the heart; Grave politicians look for facts alone, And gravely add conjectures of their own: The sprightly nymph, who never broke her rest, For tottering crowns, or mighty lands oppress'd, Finds broils and battles, but neglects- them all For songs and suits, a birth-day or a ball: The keen, warm man o'crlooks each idle tale, For 'Monies Wanted,' and •Estates on sale;' While some with equal minds to all attend. Pleased with each part, and grieved to find an end. To this all readers turn, and they can look Pleased on a paper, who abhor a book: Those who ne'er deigned their Bible to peruse, Would think it hard to be denied their news; Sinners and saints, the wisest and the weak, Here mingle tastes, and one amusement seek; This, like the public inn, provides a treat, Where each promiscuous guest sits down to eat; And such this mental food, as we may call Something to all men, and to some men all. maxamaaamacmc). Prom the Philadelphia Casket. CHARLES MLLISTON. ..Tho touch of kindred ties and love ho feels." "1 must leave this place to night; I can bear their murk'd neglect and open taunts no longer," said Charles Elliston, and he left the richly furnished parlor, whore,with seine fashionable guests, sat Mrs. Merton and her two eldest daughters, and went forth into the garden. "Yes I must go," he con tinued, "no one cares for me;and why should they for the pennyloss being, whose very origin is unknown. Alns, how hard it is to be thus cast upon the world friendless, and beloved by none—none—none?' and he buried his face in his hands, overcome with the intensity of his feelings. "None, Charles!" said a clear, silvery voice behind him, and a hand was gently laid on his shoulders. He started, and turning round, said "Ye . s, yes, Ilelen, pardon me, 1 spoke unthinkingly. You still love me?" he ad ded inquiringly. "1 do, Charles, and my father—" "Yes your' faiher, my noble benefactor, Helen. Ile still loves me." "Then" wliv leave us, Charles?" she said a tender tone "Because, Helen, you know I have been already - the cause of much dissention in your family—God forbid that I should be any, longer! And besides, Helen, you know what, treatment I have received from your mother and sisters. I have borne it long out of respect to your father and love for you,but I inn boar it tin more. twill go fhrth into the world in hopes of building up nfartune, and say, Helen, if I should be scceossfol, and return, w;11 you—" "I will love you still," d lin said interrupt• ing him. "Olt will always love you ; finales." "Farewell!" said he, and imprinting a kiss upon her rosy lips, he tore himself a way. In another hour he had quitted that house where he had spent so many happy days with I - Jelem Charles . Elliston was n dependent on the hounly of Mr. Merton. He find found him one dav, when about four years old, wan dering about the streets of the city, a lost child. He kindiy took him hotne,and used every endeavor to discover his parents; hut all to no purpose. At last • finding hie in quiries were useless, he raised ane educated him as gis own. Unlike her husband Mrs. Merton was of a proud, aristocratic aptrit, and could not bear one whose birth WAS so un certain as that of yitung Elltston. She had diffused some of this spirit into her eldest daughters, but Helen,the youngest, like her father, possessed a noble and kind heart, and looked only with compassion and love upon the poor,. thOugh noble youth. Ile was now about seventeen years of age; and the insults that were heaped upon him were felt severely. It is true when Mr. Merton Foment none dare show the least disrespect toward him, but this only served to make him (eel it more acutely in his absence. it was on this very mentioned evening, that a new insult had been offored to hire, and ho determined not to live another day where ho was exposed to them. Nor would it have caused him one feeling of regret, had it not been for Mr. Morton and Helen; but how ever dear they were to him, he resolved to leave them. He left,too, without informing Mr. Merton, for he well knew he would in sist on his stayinq, and hu would not be the author ofdiscord in that Inmily, where dwelt the only two on earth that he could call hi■ friends. It was near the close of a summer day that a steamboat touched the wharf of one of our Southern cities, and from its crowded decks poured a stream of weary travellw's, eager once again to set foot upon the land. Among :he last who stepped oh shore was a tall youth, with a valise in his hand, whO walked slowly frolri the landing,bent his way toward the shipping ware houses along the wharves. He was in search of employ ment: but alas, he was a stranger and had no recommendations. With a (Injected mein, and sorrowful step, he was about giv• ing up all hopes when he came to a large warehouse which ho had not before entered. He walked into the-counting-house, where sat a gentleman apparently about forty years of age. To the youth's inpuiry whether he was head of the estahlishment,he replied in the affirm/awe. "What do you wish, my lad?" lie*iquir. "Do you want a lad to assist you in your store? I have no recommendation to offer you, air," he continued modestly, "I have lust arrived in the steamboat from the north, and have neither friends nor money. I cannot even buy a lodging for the night," and seeing that the merchant looked incred ulously at him, he could contain himself no longer, but said imploringly, "Oh. sir, do not reluse," and the tears crinkled down his shacks. The merchant, touched by his trier, and convinced by the openness of his manner, hesitated a moment, and finally took him to his . house. A few days proved the truth of the youth's story, and ho was employed by his new benefactor. In tho course of time he rose by degrees until ho become head clerk in the establishment of Mr. Thomson. He also by his amiableness became the fa vorite of the wealthy family of the employer with whom he still resided. All loved him, and he loved them in return, as father mother, and sister. For although Charles (for it was Charles Elliston,) thought that Emma Thompson was althost as beautiful as his own Helen, yet he remained faithful to the latter, and could but think of the for mer as a sister. Five yeate had rolled by, and he had now become proprietor of the large establishment which he had entered as an errand boy,Mr. Thompson having retired from business. One evening he was sitting in family con 7 vorsation withthe family,whan M rs. Thomp son, after looking steadfastly at Charles for some time, remarkad how much Emma and he resembled ouch other. "Yes," said her husband, ''l have often observed it; they look as much alike us though they •vere roally brother and sister. Our lost Charles—poor little lellow!—could not have been more like Emma." "Your Charles? I never knew you ever had any child besides Emma," said he, "when did ho d►o?" "Would to God he had clued!" exclaimed Mrs. Thotnpson,"then would I have known he was in heaverOtut now, perhaps, ifhe is still alive,he may be buffeted about by stran gers, whose hard hourts can seldom Feel like parent's and then she gave vent to her feelings ,in tears. "Flo was lost then?" asked Charles. "Yes," said Mr. Thompson, "above sev. enteen years ago. 1 and Mary, journeying north for the benefit of heniths, and to visit some friends in New York • city, we took with us our little Charles, who was scarcely four years old, and then our only child.. IVO' arrived there in safety, and alter staying with . our friends some time, set out on our return home. Anxious to prosecute our journey, we immediately on our arrival in Philadelphia, took the steam boat to proceed immediately on, I went to see to the safety of the baggage, thinking that my Mary and Charles were in the cab in, but what. was my-surprise, When on, go. ing into the.cabin, some time after the boat had . left the .wart to find Mary there alone. She thought I had Charles with me, and she swooned away, when r informod her 1 had .4g The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, Is above all other libertfes.”—Mu.Tom ZPGICkOp tiquezna,2)ll.X mLF 212 111 sop aatac, G. T7ACIIIINGTON moTri'mr, nnitron & ralopnzwrort. not. We searched the boat over, but no Charles could be found, and then it struck us, that he might have wandered on shore, before the boat left the wharf, and conse quently was left behind. flow harrowing were our thoughts! to think that every min-, uto the distance was increasing between us and our dear. beloved child. But there ivas a thought still more distressing, perhaps he had fallen overboard unseen, and had been drowned. However, I determined on arri ving at Now Orleans, and leaving Mary with her friends. and relations, to return again to Philadelphia and spare no rains nor expense in trying to discover his fate; but the great mental excitement and bodily fa tigue I hail undeigone, threw me into a fever on the way, and it was several months before I recovered. When I did, and ar rived in Philadelphia, no trace could be die covered of our child, and never since have we heard any thing concerning him; God be praised, Charles, he has given us a son in you!" . "But was there no mark by which ho could have been known, if ho had been left behind as you first supposed?"asked Charles eagerly. "Yes, there were scars of, dog's teeth on his left wrist, and besides he wore n locket —a birth-day present from his father-- around his neck, with 'Charles' engraved on it," said Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eves. "Then, rather, mother," said Charles, bearing his arm, and drawing from his bo som a locket which he threw into Mrs. Thompson's lap, "Behold your long lost eon!" For an instant they stood amozed— : the next (bey were locked in each other's arms; then turning to Emma, he for the first time pressed. to his bosom a sister. Flow differ ent wan his situation now, from the day on which he first sot foot in the city of New Orleans! Then he was poor, friendless, with scarco a place to rest his head; now he was wealthy surrounded by friends, and blessed with a father's mother's and sister's love. He could claim now, what her noble father would not have refused, even to the poor youth, had he asked it—Helen's hand; and eves her proud mother would not object receiving for her son in•law, the heir of the richest merchant in New Orleans. Mirth and music resounded throughout, and joy, and gladness reigned predominant in the splendid mansion of Mr. Merton. It was the birth-night ball of his lovely and accomplished dnughter, Helen, given on her nineteenth birth-dav,and the magnificent saloons were thronged by the youth, beauty and elite of the metropolis. All paid wil ling homage to her fascinating charms. Nor beneath their fervent congratulations did there lurk aught of malice or envy; ro - r the sweet disposition and gentle manners o Helen Merton had won the good will of all who . knew her. And now, as she replied to their warm hearted Wishes, she looked more beautiful than ever. •She was attired in a plain white dress, looped with roses, and fitting exquisitely to her finely moun ted form; her shining cheenut curls were confined by a costly diamond head-band, that sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the transparent beauty and clearness of her com plexion.—All these when she would mingle in the giddy whirl of the dance, a smile would play upon hor lovely features; but when over, a melancholy expression would steal into her laughing eye, telling of some thing yet wanted to complete her happiness. She was thinking, perhaps, how he who many years ago, had won her maiden love, might,whilbt she was surrounded by wealth and luxtiry,be dragging out the prime of his life in poyerty and distress. Yes, sho still remembered the companion of her child hood.—Such is a woman's constancy and love.—Alas that it should so often be abu sed! The evening way somewhat advanced when Mr. Merton approached Holen,locked arm in arm with a young man, whose dark countenance, raven hair, and eyes, and tall, straight form, indicated a Clive of tho South. "Mr. Thompson of New Orleans, my dear," said Mr. Morton, introducing h imto Helen, and then, after convotsing for a few moments, sauntering to the opposite side of the saloon. "Who is that handsome young man you just introduced to Helent" asked Mrs. Mer ton of hor husband. "That is Mr. Thompson of New Orleans, the richest merchant in that city, and his father was before him. He arrived but day before yesterday. I was introduced to him yesterday, and invited him here to night, and if the impression of his features is not left oa Helen's little heart, which has hitherto been so callous, none ever .will be." • 'And if the)) , are, I suppose you will re gret the disappearance of your protege Charles -Ellistou," said his, wife, sarcasti cally. Mr. Merton did not answer her; he only turned away. At first, when the stranger was introdu ced to Helen, there appeared an air of em barrassment, but it gradually wore off, and he entered into conversation with his usual vivacity ! In the course of it she asked him if he had ever been in the city. before. He replied he had been when he was . about seventeen years of age,and that ho had then become acquainted with several of•hiq own age, whose acquaintance ho highly prized. Among those he mentioned, Was that of Charles Elliston, in particular. As ho pro nounced the name, ho bent hie dark eye full upon her, and perceiVed that she started while for a moment, agitation was visibly depicted in her countenance. Aller a min ute'a pauso, he continued, "but I have made inquiries, since my arrival, respecting him, and hear that he has returned the kindness of his benefactor, youi father, with ingrati tude, hy leaving hie house,and goi n g .no one knelt' `whither." ' "Oh. no, sir, do not believe that; it is an une report. 'He had reason for leaving my father's house," and her voice trembled and a tear stood in her eye. Just then a gentlenian advanced to claim her hand for the last cotillion, and the con versation was abruptly terminated. Charles resigned her silently; but his heart was full! It is strange bow the lapse of n few years beneath youth and manhood will change the face and disguise the form; the slight stripling that , a little while ego clambered on one knee, we can scarcely'recognize in the full, stately form, and staid demeanor of the man. So it was with Charles Thomp. son, and no wonder Helen and her father could not see, in the rich merchant of the South, the poor lad, who, six years before, had left them with scarce a dollar in hie pocket. It was the morning following the ball, and Mr. nod Mrs. Merton and Helen were sit ting in the pa,or—the former two engaged in discussing some private affairs, the latter with her hea d resting upon her hand, appa rently in deep thought. The servant enter od,..and handed Mr. Merton a letter. Ho opened it, and after having perused it for a feiv moments, uttered en exclamation ofjoy. Both his companions looked up. Seeming. ly overcome with the excitement of some unusually pleasing news he approached his daughter, and gently patting her on the cheek, said "Come, come, Helen dear, cheer up; Charles, our own dear Charles,, has return ed, is in the city, and will be hero in half an hour—cheer up my dear!" and he began to pace the floor. "See here," he continued, as a splendid equipage, with servants to livery, drove up to the door, from which a young gentleman alighted, "here is Mr. Thompson too; how glad 1 shall be to introduce them to. one another." "I don't see why you should be," said his wife, "though, perhaps, your Charles ' as you call him, may be as rich how as Mr. Thompson. You know he left word that be was, going to seek hie fortune," and she pronounced the last word with a sneer. "And he hopes he has found it, madam ; " exclainied Charles, who entered just at that moment, "thanks be lo an all-wise provi dence that directed me to my father's house. It is Charles that stands before you!" What a shriek of delight, Helen threw herself into his outstretched arms, end wept tears of joy upon his bosom, while the old man stood motionless, but his eyes were wet and his lips quivered, !hough not with grief. When they hsd become somewhat corn. posed, Charles related to them what had oc curred since he left them. The joys that beamed in the swimming eyes of the delight ed girl, as she hung fondly on her lover's arm, was only equalled by the tenderness with which he returned her look ofafTectioe. How deep Was the bliss of that moment, making amends by its delight, for the loag years of'doubt and absence. It was not long before Charles renewed again the boy ish vows ho had pledged to Helen, and the blushing girl listened, smiling and weeping ,by turns. Need it bo added, that in a short time Helen and Charles were united at the altar, and that oven the aristocratic mother smiled upon the union of her daughter with the ci devant Charles Elliston. From tho Kentucky Sentinel Question What is Tobacco 1 Answer. An ill-savored, stinking narco , poisonous weed. Q,. Db animals feed on this weed? A. An ill•looking reptile called a tobacco worm, •a species of stinking goat, and the noblest of God's creatures, man, are the on• ly beings under the canopy of heaven that will touch, or have any thing to do with it. Q. What is chewing tobacco? A. It is to stuff the mouth of man with that which would make a hog squeal or a dog vomit. It is.to make man an associate and boon companion of the tobacco worm. Q. What benefits are to be derived from tobacco? A. It discolors and destroys the teeth, causes an unnatural and deleterious flow of saliva, produces dyspepsia and all the evils attendant upon dyspepsia. Q. Do gentlemen chew tobacco? A. 51 um. Q. What is a cigar? A. A cylindrical roll of pollution formed to protrude from the frontal orifice, of the heads of fools and dandies. Q. What is smoking cigars'? A. it. is that roll of pollution ignited at one end, and a calf tugging at the other. Q. Do gentlemen Smoke cigars? A. Mum. Q. What is snufl? A. It is the sterns and refuse and most nauseous portions of tobacco ground to pow der, but not to be trodden under foot of men. Q. Were ladles noses made for snufF? A. If we reason from analogy we con clude not; for in all the works of the Crea• tor we obsory©a wonderful adaptation of parts to the use , for which they were de signed:, We therefore.conchide, had they been designed for mil, they would have been turned the other end up.. Wouldn't this look nice? Q. Do ladies take snuff A. Mum. Q. Who knows the folly, the evil ()fusing tobacco from many years experience? A. The writer of this. Q. In not experience a goodteatber? A. The , proverb says she is, and thri fools will learn of no other. Q. Will experience! teach :fools to qui using tobacco? A.' We rear they will reject her lessons TOO TIME TO MAKE A JOKE or.L—Netvi paper Jokis..—There is but to muctorMh (says tho Newhurroort Herald) in the'fol lowing paragraph, cut from the Philadelphia Ledger: "One or the standing jokes.of the news paper press is the poverty of the editors. Sometimes there . ts too much truth in this to make jest of it—we know, for instance, an editor who published a paper to support a certain cause,, nod who was supported himself by the voluntary contribution's of those whose interests he was Inhering to uphold. This happy person complained, in one number of his paper, that he and his wife bad subsisted two weeks on bread and molasses and earnestly entreated his friends to 'pony up,' or he should be obliged to re. duce his diet; and that (ha suggested) might impair the vigor able intellect, and disable him from discharging his duties in en ener getic manner: This was nll regarded as a pretty fair editorial joke; but in a private conversation, the scribe assured us in the most serious manner, that his 'account of hie way of living was :iternlly true. Such candid editors are comr.ionly of the rustic class . ; our city scribes conceal their poverty as long ne possible, and while their-jaws shrink in and kiss each other with starva tion, they zealously maintain thee'. they are faring sumptuously every day. They haie no Complaints to make —not they. They are always at the height of prosperity; and the first hint of any thing else which the public receive; is the ,sudden death, from exhaustion, of the very paper which' had been all along thiiVing so prodigiously." COIISETS.—The Boston Transcript ex ; claims against, the lridies being squeezed in corsets. We see the drift of the fellow; if any squeezing is to be done, he wishes to do i t himself. We confess a lady's waist nev• er appears lovelier to us than when it is broad and large; a good armful. Your corn• stalk figures are scarcely palpable—to em brace them is analogous to hugging a knit ting, needle. When a lady's bosom ie com-: pressed with cords and canvass, can the heart throb and dilate with generous omo. tions? how can such a bosom feel friend ship, or sympathy, or love? A large waist is, generally speaking, a sign of loving and loveable qualities. The rationale of the thing is as plain as sunshine. A small, waist is the indication of a email heart, and a small heart will seldem‘he found to contain those noble and expansive sentiments which con stitute the essence of all female loveliness. Therefore, girls if you wish to be beloved, do not screw and compress your gentle bo soms. Do not bind the sweet emotions of your hearts in ropes of hempen rigidity,— Do not choke up the fountains of feeling and sentiment with bits of hard canvass and stakes of stubborn whalebone. No, ladies, do nothing of the kind and be assured of this, that the fellow who admires a female in a state of excruciating agony, who by his per nicious taste would impose upon her an un deserved penance—such a foolish fellow wo say, and his good opinion aro not worth a thought. Men of good sense - like a large WAIST in a wife, but a vary little WASTE in the family. There is no economy in screwing up your persons; but we have of ten observed that ladies who make a prat• tice of doing so are nevertheless WASTEFUL and extravagant.—Phil. Ledger. Newsrekricas.--A child begining to read becomes delighted with a newspaper, be cause he reads of names and things that are familiar. A newspaper in one year says Mr. Weeks, is worth a quarter's schoo ling to a child, and every father must con sider that substantial informatiOn is connec ted With this advancement. The mother of the family being ono of its heads, and having a more immediate charge of chil dren, ought to be Intelligent in mind, puro in language, and always cheerful and cir cumspect. As the instructor of her chil dren, she should herself be instructed. A mind occupied, becomes fortified against the ills of life, and is braced for any emergency. Children amused by reading and study, are of course considerate and morn easily governed. How many thoughtless yOung men have spent their evenings in a tavern or grog shop which ought to be devoted to reading? how many parents who never spent twenty dollars for books for their familes would gladly have given thousauds to reclaim a son or daughter who had ignorantly and thoughtlessly fallen into temptation. ADVICE GRATIS Advice to young gtrls.—Never marry a boy whose mamma is afraid to havo him to go on the water or whose papa cannot tell the difference between the toothache and the lockjaw. Advice to young inen:—Have it fairly understood before you .wed, whether you intend to marry an individual, or a whole Advice to parents. —Do not let a silly ambitioc hazard the happiness of your chil dren, nor your chagrin at the f tiscovery of your oivn folly betray you into a violation of your obligations. Advice to indtsereet people.--Never hire a printer to publish your folly in a book for it is worse than being hung; and pay ing the cucutioneer fluty shillings. lgoaricoam o)(oce eao4 Advice to babies.—lterrtnin your mothers as long as you con, nod do not get tharriod before, you are out• of lenchng strings. Advice. to judges.— In forming nn opin. ion, keep Luck ears open, and then you can hear On both 81(109. Advice to degislators. 7 - , Never become the corrupt tools of wealth.. • Advice to any one who is, pleased to-re ceive it.—l f you wish to stab a person's re putation, by-imputing 'to him or, her false hood, treachery, and the meanest Selfish ness,you may as well use the naked dagger as to wreath the blade with flowers. Advice to sentimental people.--the no• blest of all sentiment is that., which springs from Sincerity, Constancy, Frankness, and Forgiveness. - Advice to merahants.—Advertise, if you would be prosperous and happy. Advice to politicians. Collect the bets you have made, as soon as possible, pay those yoU have lost without delay, and never be guilty of such conduct again.. ' Advice to the temperance parly.—;-Offer a reward for the best model of u cider mill. Advice to people in coern/.—Subscribe fora newspaper—pay . the prtnter,and mind your own business,—Boston Post. • . • CVRIOVO BintE.- 7 -There is 'at present in tbe, possession ola Mrs.. Parkes, of Golden Square, London, a copy of Macklin's Di... ble, in 45 large folio volpmes, illustrated with nearly 7000 engravings, from the age of Michael Angelo to that . 01 Reynolds and Wist. The work also contains about 200• original drawings or vignettes by Louther bourg. The prints and etchings include the works of Ratraelle, flake Antonio, Al bert Durer, Collet, Rembrant, and other masters, consisting of representations of nearly every fact; circuinstarice,.and ebject. mentioned in the. holy Scrip:urea. There are, moreover, designs of trees, plants, flow: era, quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and ,insects, such, besides fossils, as have been adduced , in proof of an universal deluge. .The' most authentic scripture atlasses aro bound up with the volumes. This Bible was the pro perty of tho late Mr. Boyer, the publisher, who collected and arranged the engravings. etehings, and .drawings, at great expense and labor; and he is said fo . h,avo.been enga ged upwards of 30 years in rendering it per feet. It was insured in the Albion Insurance, Office for £3OOO. PAlrtrim Dr.cosunr.s.—One of exchange papers fiirnishes a notice of a late nddress of Bishop Smith, who is superintendent of the Kentucky Public Schools, disclosing the astounding fact that of the 140,000 chi'. dren of the proper ago to go to school, in, that state, only about 32,000 are receiving an education!' He farther states that it costs about as much to educate the 32,000, under the present system, as it would to educate the whole 140,000 under the common school spawn! The notice goes on to say that, in one of the Circuit Courts the judge ascer tained that not one of fifteen persons sum moned as grand jurors could read or write his own name. In another county, in a public assembly ofabout fifty persons, not one could be found capable of reading.-- Balt. Sun. A _PROSPECT ICINGS DIIGEIT zemr.—Far mer Harrison can stand at the door of his Log Cabin at . North Bend, and look upon the soil of three noble States cherished and defended by him in their infancy and dan ger, and. whose three millions of free peo ple in the might of their manhood have now repaid his fatherly care with a majority of sixty thonsand for. President. What mon arch ever ruled tin - bnur like this? Another viele.—Tarmer Harrison from his North Bend Cabin can, look upon the verdant hills of two Statds,in either of which his majority for President is larger than the majority obtained by hie opponent in the whole twenty-six! dided es he was by the entire gOvernment patronage and influ ence. Glorious locality that same North Bend.—Cleve. Her. FROST BITTEN HANDS, Scc.„ may be cured, so says a correspondent of the Phila delphia Ledger, by desolving alum in pret ty warm water, and bathing or washing the frozen parts in the solution for somo ten or fifteen minutes before going to bed. .Three ounees of alum to a quart of warm water is the proportion. CROOKED Stm.rEars.—The newspapers are publishing a - story of n crooked fence "down east;" which was .. so warped, that a hog in attemping to get through it, always came out on the same side. The following from an exchange i 3 nearly as bad:—;"There is a fellow down oak whose feller are so crooked that his pantatoons (urn hind part before in less than half an hour after he putS them an." But what are both - these to Stun Slick's crooked tree which was so croaked that a stieak oflimhtninff was half an hour. Coming down? • The two most Catholic countries in Eu rope, Spain and Portugal, the Protesant Empire of Great Britain, and tho hlahem• inedan dominions of the Sultan, are now ruled over by Sovorings, not one of thi‘in whom has completed his or her twelity.tirst .ear. ADVICE FIIAT MAY DE SSAFEI•Y F i nr.r.olv • En.—Praise the fineness cultic day when, it is ended—a sword when you have ppiveil it—a maiden when she is married —die ice when you have crossed it—and a newspaper when you hare read and PAID for it.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers