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All Lettersand Communications addressed . to the Editor by mail must bo post-paid, or they will not be attended to. THE GARLAND. —"With sweetest flowers cnrich'd From various gardens eull'd with care." WET DO WE LOVE? I often think each tottering form, That limps along in life's decline. Once bore a heart as young, as warm, As full of idle thoughts as MINE. And each has had his dream of joy, His own unequalled pure romance; Commencing, when the blushing boy First thrills at woman's lovely glance And each could toll his tale of youth— Would think its scenes of love evince More passion, more unearthly truth, Than any tale, Wore or since; Yes, they could toll of tender lays, At midnight penned, in classic shade, Of days more bright than modern days— Of maids moro fair than moderil maids; Of whispers in a willing ear, Of kissing on a blushing cheek— mach kiss, each whisper, far too dear For modern lips to give or speak, Of prospects, too, untimely crossed, Of passions slighted or betrayed— Of kindred spirits early lost, And buds that blossomed but to fade Of beaming eyes and tresses gray, Elastic form and noble brow, " And charms—that all have passed away, And left them—what we see them now! And is it thus—is human love So very light and frail a thingl And must youth's brightest visions move Forever on Time's restless wingT Must all the eyes that still are bright, And ail the lips that talk of bliss, And all the fornis so fair to sight, . Hereafter. Anly come to this? Then what are Love'dbest visions worth, `lf we at length must lose thorn thus? If all we value most on earth, Ere, lodg must fade away from usl Of that oat being whom we take From all the world, and still recur To all sus said, and for hot sake Feel far from joy when far from her, If that •no form which we adore, -- From youth to age, in bliss or pain, • Boon withers and is seen no more— Why do we love, if love be vainl ata@omasaworDwo. From the Saturday Evening Poet. NIAGARA. A STORY OF FASHIONABLE LIFE. Sly. "When the fool come again?" Sim. Anon, my lord?"— Taming of the Shrew. 'Well, I do say,' said a purse elderly gentleman, puffing as he mounted the steps at Niagara, 'if this is what they call tray. eling, then I'd sooner stay at home. Here's my wife and three daughters, have been pla- guing the life out of mo these two years to come to Niagara, and now when we're here, they can't stay quietly at the hotel, but must be dragging me about, to see this, and to see that, 'till Pin almost worked to death; and pausing upon the landing, he wiped his heated face with his .hsndkerchief, looked down the hill at his spouse and her three daughters, toiling unaided from below. 'Ohl pa,' said his youngest child, as she reached the lending, 'why did you leave us to climb up that long flirt 't of steps alune. I'm sure ma looks quite faint.' 'Can't help it—people that will go tray cling must expect to get tired,' said Mr. Brown snappishly, wiping his face as assid• uously as ever. •Oh!—my—dear &m,' gasped his part ner, as ehe in turn arrived at the landing, 'lend me your arm, or—l----shall die.' 'Die at this place ma'am! Die at Nia• gam! Die after spending five hundred dal `Pray; Miss Ellen,' said a young man, who met the group on his descent atihis mamma, 'let me assist you up—recollect how often I have been down—will you ac• cept my arm?' The be.tutirul girl blushed—for Ellen Bowen was rally beautiful—and perceiving that her father had at length undertaken to assist her mother, she took the protTered aid of Edward Seymour, her elder sisters meanwhile finding beaux, in the two com panions of the young lawyer. 'lt is a trite question, Miss Bowen,' said Seymour; ,'but I cannot resist asking you how you like the falls—do they equal your expectations?' The young barrister would scarcely have put such a question to Ellen's parents, or to either of her sisters, but, in the little con versation ho had enjoyed with her, since the arrival of the Bowens at the falls, he had perceiAed in her remarks the evidence of a refined, and highly imaginative mind. 'Oh! yes! they far surpass my expects• (ions,' said Ellen, coloring the next breath at her own enthusiasm. 'There is a sublim ity about them I cannot describe: they cro• ate an awe which deprives one of words: I could feel their granduer and their mitierty forever, but I could never give expretbion to the sentiments they create in one's bos• om.' • 'You are right. They fill one, like eter nity, with unutterable awe. They kindle up all the poetry ofone's heart,but they over power one at the same time. For my part .were 1 a poet, t could look at Niagara for ever, but vet would always find it impossi ble to write upon it.' 'And why?' 'Because I could never satisfy myself with what I had written. Nothing but in spiration,' said Seymour, enthusiastically, ,'could do justice to so sublime a wonder.' 'That agrees with what 1 have been thin king the whole morning. I used to admire one or two pieces written on Niagara, but since I have seen the falls, they all appear 'And well may they; for next to the pres ence of the great I A M himself, what is so awful as this eternal cataract? Think only for whet countless ages it has thundered its hallelujah! How many races have gazed and died beside it since it first hurled its ocean of waters into the abyss below, sha king the earth, and filling Heaven with its might; and yet it still pours forth its eter nal incense,fit companion for the cherubitns who continually shout beside the throne of God!' There was something in such rapt ex pressions which found an echo in Ellen's bosom; and as she looked into the kindling eye of the speaker, she experienced an emo tion as yet unknown to the heart. Their conversation, however, was brought to an end by the arival. of the party at the hotel, where the gentlemen and la dies separated to dress for dinner. There was to be a ball that evening, and consequently the ladies generally retired to to their rooms immediately alter the meal. Ellen saw nothing therefore of Seymour, though she longed to renew the conversa tion of the morning. The ballroom was crowded to excess,.— for besides the regular boarders at the ho tel, there were numerous guests from the families of the vicinity, as well as several British officers from the neighboring Can adian shores. Ellen's beauty attracted gen eral admiration. Among those who paid her • the most marked attentions, and who in fact had done so since her arrival, were Edwrrd Seymour and Sir Theodore Phipps. The former had nothing to recommend him, but his tal ent and appearance; the latter had a train of servants, and drove splendid bays. Yet though envied the attentions of her titled admirer by all, Ellen would willingly have turned from his flattery to listen to the deep voice of Seymour, breathing the lofty as pirations, beneath which every chord of her heart trembled in sympathy. "l'he baron. et, however, was assiduous; he even forced himself upon Ellen despite her manifest re• pugnance to him; her mother, moreover, in. sisted again and again that she would dance another set with Sir Theodore; until at length Seymour, either blinded to the truth, or indignant at Mrs. Bowen's conduct withdrew from Ellen's side. nor did he re• join it during the rest of the evening. The congratulations which were show• ered upon Ellen, by :hoc mother and eldest sister, when they had all retired to their parlor after the ball, were nearly endless. Her second sister, Julia, however, having nut yet lost all hope of an eligible match, was silent and sullen. At length she gave vont to her spleen. 'Really there is nothing to admire so much in Sir Theodore,' said she, with a toss of the head, 'to be sure ho calls himself an English nobleman, but who knows that he is not an impostor?' 'An imposture,' said Mrs. Bowen, 'why Julia, how can you go on in such a way? You are envious, child, or you wouldn't talk so. No, Sir Theodore is a real noble man, and has his seat, venture to say, in the House of Lords, with the best of them. An imposture! fy—fy on you Ju ha.' The haughty daughter, however, only answered by a curl of her lip, as if in scorn of her mother's ignoronce; but the eldest sister now took up the conversation. my peril' she said, 'its clear Sir Theodoce is serious; and I'm . glad Ellen will form such un alliance. How it will pique the Misses de Sibra!' 'But sister,' said Ellen, for the first time uttering a word, "I am not yet married to this proud foolish Englishman. Nor do you; she added,•fondly putting her arm a• round the neck of her, mother, for with all her patty vanity, her parent had gen erally a kind heart,and Ellen loved her de votedly, 'dear mamma wish me,l am sure to marry him,' and she kissed her mother's cheek. Now, if Mrs. Bowon dislilted any thing it was to be thwarted In her darling wish G. WASHINGTON /3077 MT, lIIDITOR. er. PROPRIETOR. 66 The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, to above all other libertiee.”—Mitrori. 0318ZeWri$321(boaa. zi)gac a wwmalloct.wi, guaLtivaa Eo, aipea. of elevating her daughters by marriage. How completely she was interested in the Baronet's success, the reader has seen from her conduct at the ball. She replied thole fore, with unusual harshness, 'You astonish me, child—you do. What! not marry a nobleman! There now, you needn't tondle on me, for I saw who you was making love to to-night—' .illarnma,deer mamma!' said Ellen implo ringly, and then burst into tears. 'Well I do say!' ejaculated the eldest sis ter. 'Who ever saw the like?' responded the second one, forgetting her pique intho re venge she was thus enabled to take on El. len. 'Oh! it won't do for you to cry,' said her mother, thus countenanced by the elder sisters, and steeled on this ocasion to her daughter's feelings, 'for I've seen it nII. and know best what's good for you. Yes!' she added, warmina" ' into a passion as she pro ceeded, 'marry Sir Theodore you shall, and Int too instantly—' 'But Sir Theodore has not yet even pro• 'posed said Mr. Bowen appearing suddenly to awake from the doze in which he had been seemingly indulging himself, as he lay extended upon the sofa, 'end I don't see the use of worrying Elly until he does so. Mind daughter,' Said he, shaking his bond reprovingly at the imploring, yet thankful look of the poor girl, don't mean to say your mother won't be right if Sir Theodore should propose, for though I don't,like a true American, care a surnarchee for. a baronet, as a son in-law, and though I know every Englishman to bo a haughty fool, ;ahem!) yet money isn't to be laughed at when it comes in heaps, and a guinea is at any time better to live upon than lose. But we've talked the matter over enough to-night, and you'vo almost woried me into a fit of the gout. It I'd staid at home now, like & sensible man, we'ed none of us have had any of this fuss. But people that will trav• el must expect to get themselves into trou ble.' This decided expression of opinion silen ced the group. Ellen was grateful; the sisters were sullen; and Mrs. Bowen flung herself out of the room. But the pil low of our heroine was that night wet with some of the bitterest tears she had ever shed. The next day,on descending to the break fast room, the first person that met the eye of Ellen, was Seymour, conversing gaily with one of the prettiest girls of the compa ny, who had been his partner during the latter part of the preceeding evening. Ale bowed with some haughtiness to Ellen, and continued his conversation without internp. lion. Poor Ellen felt a strange pang shoot through her heart at the coldness of the on ly one of the company for whose esteem she had eared. But returning the salua. tion with equal pride, she moved to a neigh boring seat, and was soon to all appearance, deeply engaged in conversation with sever al gentlemen, who, in the instant she made her appearance, crowded around her. An excursion had been planned that day for the purpose of visiting a point some miles below the falls, front which they might ho seen to peculiar advantage, and both Seymour and Sire Theodore had signified their intention of j3ining the party. It was a beautiful day, and the whole land scape was smiling beneath an unclouded sun as the party persued its way to the point of destination.—Mounted on horse back Sir Theodore constantly maintained his place by the side of Ellen, attempting to amuse her by his conversation, made up of preten ded descriptions of noble life and stale anec dotes without point. Hurt as she felt at Seymour, she could not avoid contrasting him favorably with her assiduous suitor, nor prevent herself from glancing involuntari ly, now and then, in the direction of the young lawyer, who was riding in the midst of a gay party, of which ho appeared to be the life. Perhaps the pang that slic.t through her bosom at his avoidance of her society, did more towards acquainting her own feelings, than a month of the usual in tercourse of visitors at the Falls would have done. At length the party arrived at the end of their Journey, and after viewing the Falls dispersed themselves into groups and saun tered about preparatory to returning. El len was soon surrounded by a numerous suite of gentlemen,for she was unquestioa blY the'belle of the party. But still. Sey-' mour avoided her group, except occasional ly.—He seemed to be chained to the side of the beautiful Bostonian, to whom ho was so assiduous on the oreceed tog evening, and who was evidently flattered—ns who would not be?—at his attentions. Ellen felt again that pang at her bosom, but suppressing her emotion by such an eiihrt as woman can com mand, she launched out in the gayest con versation, nor was it long before she had enchained those suitors by her wit, whom at first she had attracted by her beauty.— Yet even then she could not regard her ti- tled admirer with any sentiment except dis gust. She knew that but for him, Seymour would now be at her side. But she could not avoid reproaching him for deserting her, when neither by. word nor action had she herself slighted him, whatever others might linve done. What u strange thing is the heart! It suffers itself often to become inextricably involved in the meshes of that master pas sion, LOVE, long before it discovers to its owner how utterly its liberty id gone. And then, when the victim would endeavor to regain its freedom, how subtilly and slowly and surely it resists every attempt, and perhaps ultimately triumphs. Nothing can be mire profound than the deceptions it often practices upon its victims. It sof tbrs them to love, yet persuades them they are still free. A word, a look, a gesture will be treasured up in the memory, and this, too, will continuo, day by day, and week by week, and yet the victim is made to believe that there is nothing in it but friendship, until some sudden remark, some unexpected train of events, brings on the denouement, and the victim discovers at once its deception and its love. Meantime, the party had set forth on its return, and Ellen was again surrounded by a troop of admirers on horseback. Sey mour still, however, kept aloof, until an incident occurred, which in a few rapid, moments, altered the whole face of events. The party had not proceeded far, when they passed near some workmen engaged ii► quarrying stone, and just as Ellen and her group approached, an explosion took place in a dangerous proximity to the ri• ders. The consequence was, for the mo• ment, a general consternation. Several of the horses began to rear frightfully, and the one on which Ellen sat, after plunging for a few seconds, took the bit in his mouth,: and darted furiously ahead. The alarm now become universal, and the screams of the ladies and the shouts of the male portion_ of the company only serv ed to increase the speed of the frightened steed. Meantime none knew what to dn. Tho terrified animal was careering towards the river's side, at that point terminating in an abrupt precipice, and though every one cried out to save hor,none made the attempt. Ellen, however, stilt kept her seat firnily, though the imploring look that she cast backward upon the company betrayed her consciousness of her peril. But at this in stant, Seymour, who had been some distance behind, perceiving her danger, instead of Calling to others as the rest were doing, gave spurs to hie horse and dashed in pur- suit of Ellen. For a few minutes the pace at which they went was tremendous. Nothingstay ed their progress. Now crashing among the forest trees, and now leaping over see mingly impassable barriers they soon gain ed the precipitous banks of the river.— They wore yet within a few paces of it, when Seymour, perceiving the imminency of Ellen's danger. shouted, "To the right!—to the right!" Almost mechanically the fair girl made a sudden jerk at the reins, and succeeded in partially altering the course of the af frighted animal, so that instead of plunging over, the precipice he ran for a few paces almost paralled with, but in fearful proxim ity to it. The momentary delay of the cri sis saved Ellen's life. A few feet further on the precipice took a turn, and the mad. denod animal was now gallopped right on to the abyss; but before it could reach the edge, Seymour overtook Ellen, and with consummate dexterity, catching the rein of her steed, threw it at a powerful effort, back Oil its haunches. 'The second' of relief was enough for Ellen, with admi ruble presence of mind, to spring from her seat. For a moment longer Seymour en deavored to restrain the frightened animal but it plunged so dangerously, that his own steed, though under the most complete training, began to grow infected, and he wus forced, from regard to his own safety, to let go the rein of the snorting steed.— With ono plunge it sprang forward, and al most as „rapidly as the eye could follow it, went crashing over the precipice, fallina" a mangled mass of flesh and bones upon the jagged rocks below. Without pausing to look after the fate of the terrified animal, Seymour hastened to the relief of Ellen, who, although main taining her presence of mind up to the mo ment of her rescue, had fainted away the very instant that she touched the ground. Throwing the bridle over his panting steed, her lover—for we must now call him such —raised her in his arms, and scarcely knowing what to do, threw off her bonnet, letting those rich, luxuriant curls, on which so often he had gazed in 'delight, fall in massy tresses on the breeze. As he gazed on her inanimate face, and felt her form reposing in his arms, ho could not longer restrain his lung concealed passion,butikiss ing her snowy brow, he said, "Ellen, dear Ellen, awake." As if oused by his impassioned words, the maiden slowly opened her eyes, and gazed a moment inquiringly around; but when she recognized, in the one who bent over her, the person of Edward Seymour, she. blushed and would have risen, if her strength had not proved too feeble for the endeavor. "Ellen—Miss Bowen--forgive me," said Seymour, perceiving her design, and fancy • ing she resented his words. "Forgive you--oh! how .can .1 sufficient ly thank your eagerly said the artless girl. The words, the tone, but more than all the look, filled the bosom of her lover with tumultuous joy. His voice was eager and hurried aste .replied, "You have nothing for which to thank' me!" and perceiving that the color mounted into Ellen's cheek, and her bosom heaved while her eyes fel: to the ground, he con tinued, "1-1 only thought - to be grate ful for having saved so puree being as you." The eyes of Ellen.still sought the ground, and her form trembled, as Seymour, em boldened by her emotion, poured forth, in a few burning words, the tale of his love. And when he had done, and Ellen, unable from her agitation to reply, sank unresisting upon that bosom, to which she was so gent ly drawn, could any, oven the most selfish calculating, blame her fur thus blessing so piro a Putt as that of Edward Seymour. But the tele-a tele of the lovers was 'loon interrupted by the arrival of the remainder of the company; and alter a thousand felici. tations on her escape, Ellen was provided with a seat in one of the carriages, and the whole party returned to the hotel. 'God be praised, my dear said Mr. Bowen, clasping Ellen to 11;s heart, and moved for a moment out of his usual cynical mode of expression, by the knowledge of her danger and escape, 'you have had a narrow escape. But then people that will travel, must expect to get into scrapes.' The joy of the mother we will not relate. With all her faults, Mrs. Bowen loved her daughter ardently, and, fur once, she was led by her grati'ude to believe, that Edward Seymour might be as much of a gentleman as Sir Theodore Phipps. Tho very next day two sturdy looking men alighted at the door of the hotel, and, alter making sundry enquiries after the pretended baronet, proceeded to arrest Sir Theodore, on his return from a ride, as n notorious forger,lately escaped from a south ern penitentiary. Ho departed that night hand-cuffed, and undor tho chargo of two officers. The career of the pseudo baronet being thus cut short,even the sisters of Ellen began to look upon Seymour with more lenity, tier was this good feeling at all lessened, when an elderly gentleman appeared on the suc ceeding morning, who greeted Seymour as his nephew, and whom the keeper of the ho tel recognized as the rich Judge 'Townsend of county. Before noon it was wbis pared on hts authority, that the apparently penniless lawyer was not only the heir of the new coiner, but the posessor of a handsome fortune already. It was confirmed before evening by the Intelligence that he had pro• posed for and been excepted by Ellen. 'Well,' said Mr. Bowen on that occasion 'you say you concealed your wealth in order to be loved for yourself a!one. All very good, very good, no doubt,-'especially for a novel; but confoundedly l i ike nonsense, beg. ging your pardon, my friend, in real life. Money 'is money, and men without it don't cut half such a figuro as wen with it. But every one to his taste. I owe you a thousand thanks for saving Ellen, take hei —and God blocs you both.' • 'Welt For my part,' said Mrs. Bowan wimp tete a tete with her husband, 'its a capital match. You. see now what we've gained by coming to Niagara. Its all through me Ellen's got so nicely fixed.' 'Pshaw! you'd married her to that rascal of a counterfeiter_ if ho hadn't been found out, and a pretty business you'd made of it. But people that will travel must expect to get tilt() scrapes.' . New York, Feb. 1841. DID You EVP.R.—Did you ever know a lady with very white teeth to put her hand over them when she laughed? Did you ever know a boy to keep a piece of plumb cake till it was mouldy? Did you ever know a money dealer that did not expect a panic, and great distress in the money market? Did you ever know a person to believe you when you explained how you got a black eye? , Did you ever know a young lady ,that did not have some very curious pieces of sewing, that she would'nt let the young gentlemen see? Did you ever know a young lady who was too weak to stand up during prayer lime in church, .who . could not dance all night without being tired at all? Dtd you ever know a young man to hold a skein of yarn for his favorite to wind, without getting it strangely tangled?—Bost. Mail. STEALING ON CUEDIT.-A farmer in this State was once greatly puzzled by the sud den disappearance ofTis sheep. One after another was missed from the flock, without any solution of the mystery—until at last his suspicions rested on one of his neighbors. Accordii.gly, as the sheep disappeared, each one was entered on the book against the suspected man, and the price carried out. At the end of the year, the bill was sent to him—and without making any words on the subject, he prudently paid it. Another year passed, and the absence of a •greater number of sheep had added numerous items to a now bill, which was presented, as on the year previous. This time, however, the lover of mutton demurred—and insisted on its being reduced; protesting that he had not taken an eighth part of the number charged to him. "Well," said sheepy, "if I must pay, I suppose I must; but the fact, is some wane') has been stealing on my credit."—New Haven Register. THE HOOSIER LADIES FOREVEIit-A la dy of Indiana recently dated a letter "in bed," to her lover in Mississippi. The fol lowing is an extract from the warm hearted girl's love letter: "Oh you niarrygold—vou hollyhock—you tulip—you cabbage. Oh, you sweet owl—come and comfort your distressed;your sorrow smitten, dying, dead Caroline. Oh, my dear Henry, how Ido love your big grey eyes." Booh! A PRODIGY.—Thero is a female child now exhibiting at the Museum who is but seven years of age, and is 5 feet high, weighs 220 pounds and measures nearly four feet round the waist. She is a native of New Hampshire, and has been consid ered such a prodigy at home, and has drawn so many people from different pal is of the country to witness herohat Mr. Haringtoa hes been induced to secure her presence, for a short time.—Bosters Times. W°M . '(l)[l' er,P ( % ZV(4)4 I SINC:ITLAIt DI-ToV V.—Stx miles north lof M. nchester, L'ag.., on the line of the Bel. ton railway fl/1) have been found in !the excavation made at that place, which appear to have been partly converted .to I coal. They !seem uh.o to stand in the pla ices were they grew. The ron's are int- I bedthtd in a soft argilleceous shah., immedi ately under a 11. in bed of coal. The bark of the trees is converted to coal, from oco quarter to throe quarters of an inch thick, the substance which has taken the place of the interior of the trees is shale. The tar. gest of the trees is 15} feet in circumfer ence at the hese, and the height 11 feet. ART qr CoMTßEssioN•—Few editorials exhibit so much skill and power in this re spect, as those of the Louisville Journal— witness the following 'paragraph: "The Louisville Log Cabin was taken down, two or three days ago, and cut up (Or the poor. 'lt yielded a large quantity of fire•wood. Several loge were nearly as large as the one which our neighbor of the Advertiser skulked bahind in the last war." Firm—The Kent (Md.) News of Satur. ' day says:4—Just as our paper was about to go to press this - morning, we we.e informed by a • gentleman residing in the lower part of this county, that nil the houses, except store house and blacksmith shop, ut Corner, belonging to Mr. C. F. Hale, were entirely destroyed by fire on last evening. Five or six horses, and several head of cat tle were burnt, and most of his hope-hold furniture. The . fire is supposed to be the work °Tan incendiary. A Paton BUSINESEL—IrVe have been in formed that a Mrs. Collins of Marietia, re cently became the mother of four children at one birth, all whom are doing fnely.— This is assuming responsibilities with a vengeance:—Lan. quard. I=== RECEIPT, for making the moat • Street, White, Light, and best bread without the use of yeast.—Talon a table spoonful of pounded saleratus, dissolve it in half a- tea cup full of warm water, rub it well through three pounds of flour, and then mix it up with buttermilk till it is quite soft. Place it in pans and let it bake rather slowly, about au hour and a half. A small slice of butter mingled with the dough, will be found an improvement. This mode Of making bread is particularly worthy of the farmers" , gude wives." Don't fail to try it.—W. Farmer. "In this country," says an English edi tor, "it is considered the height cl folly for a man to get drunk and lie across a rail road with the idea of obtaining repose." The same opinion obtains to a'considerable extent in America. SAD ACCIDENT.—The Nit 'Gianni Ga zette says, that on the. 30th ult., a two horse mail stage, which runs between that place and Dubuque, while on the MiSsissip: pi, broke through the ice, and the mail, horses, carriage, and a passenger pained Taylor, all went to the bottom. EDITORS mei:sm.—Mr.. Gautier, editor of that sensible and facetious journal, the St. Joseph Times, has been elected Spea ker of the House of Representatives of Florida. The Hon. Joseph Howe editor of the Nova Scotian, by fur - ,the most ably conducted print in, the Province, has been chosen Speaker of the Assembly of Nova Scotia. • TRAY, BLANCH AND SWEETEIEAAT.-+ Somebody has estimated the dog population in the U. States at about two millions, and the expense of keeping them upwards of $10,000,000 per annum. PENNSYLVANIA AND OHIO CA NAL. —The Veetern Reserve (Ohio) Chronicle wives a statement of the commerce on this. Cross Cut Canal, during the past season—from which we learn that, of property on which toll is charged by weight, there arrived at Warren (Ohio) by way of the Canal, 2,563 566 lbs. And that of property of the same description there were cleared at Warren by way of the Canal, during the past season . 7,12d,134. lbs. Considering that this is the first season in which the Cross Cut Canal has been in full operation, these figures show for it a large amount of commerce. CRUELTY AND BRUTALITY. -A disgrace• ful scene occurred at Chew's Landing,New Jersey, on the night of the 22d. A number of boys made a bonfire in a field—when a brute in human form, and animated by the spirit of a fiend, rode a horse into the mid. die of the fire, kept hint there until the poor animal's' legs were shockimvly burnt, and then, because the horse would not , stand quietly and undergo the tortere,dismount ed, and deliberately cut the poor beast's throat. Such r. human being is a disgrace to any age or country. A Harrisburg paper, gives a case ufab eence of mind in the Ildlowing way:—"A girl, who was one of our first loves, was one night lighting us out, after having pas. .sed a delightful evening, and in bashful tre. oidation, she blew us out of the door, and drew the candlestick behind the deoor and kissed it!" A Lady, in the modern nrceplinn of the tone, is a female with her head sleek in a silk bonnet; her waist puckered into the shape of a junk bottle, and a hole in the heel of her-steeking!
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers