V`V2ic/ Z32 , 4 --;t11 4 0.4 11.04 Office of the Star Banner COUNTY BUILDING, ABOVE TOE OFFICE or THE REGISTER AND RECORDER. I. Tho STAn & REPUBLICAN ILkurrsn is published at TWO DOLLARS per annum (or Volume of 62 numbers.) payable half -yearly in advance: or TWO DOLLARS & FIFTY CENTS, if not paid until after the expiration of the year. IL No subscription will be received for a short er period than six months; nor will the paper be discontinued until all arrearagos are paid, un less at the option of the Editor. A failure to notify a discontinuance will be considered a new en gagement end the paper forwarded accordingly. HE. ADVIATIBEMENTS not exceeding a square will be inserted TUBES 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 roasonablododuction will be made to those who advertise by the year. IV. All Lettereand Communications addressed to the Editor by mail mustbo post-paid, or they will not be attendod to. THE GARLAND. —"With sweetest flowers enrich'd From various gardens cull'd with care." THE FORSAKEN TO THE FALSE ONE IST THOMAS BAYNES DAUM,. I dare thee to forget mo! Go wander whore thou wilt; Thy hand upon the vessel's helm, Or on the sabre's hilt; Away thou'rt free: o'er land and sea Go rush to . danger's brink! But oh, thou can'st not fly horn thought! Thy curso will be—to think! Remember me! remember all, My long enduring love, That linked itself to perfidy; The vulture and the dove! Remember in thy utmost need, I never once did shrink, But clung to thee confidingly; Thy curse shall be—to think! Then go! that thought will render thee A dastard in tho fight; That thought, when thou art ternpest•tost, Will fight thoe with affrigho In some wild dungeon may'st thou lie, And, counting each cold link That binds thee to captivity, Thy curse alkali bo—to think! Go greet the merry banquet hall, Whore younger maidens bloom, The thought of mo shall make thee there Enduro a deeper gloom; That thought shall turn the festive cup To poison while you drink, And while false smiles are on thy cheek, Thy curio will bo—to think! Forgot me, false one, hope it not! When minstrels touch the string, Tho memory of other days Will gall thee while they sing; The airs I used to love will make Thy coward conscience shrink, Aye, every note will have its sting, Thy curse will be—to think! Forgot me! No, that shall not be! I'll haunt thee in thy sleep, In dreams thou'lt cling to slimy rbcks That overhang the deep; Thou'lt shriek for aid! my feeble arm Shall hurl thee from the brink, And when thou wak'st in wild dismay, Thy curse will be—to think! saao(Dwaatammowo. THE TWO NEW TEARS. "Dear Eleanor, what an elegant piece o embroidery you are engaged on; such a beautiful design and such delicate blen ling of brilliant colors. it will be a scarf lit for a Queen.' "Your approval of My taste gives, me real pleasure. I have been at infinite pains to work this scarf in Order to have smile thing unique to wear to our New Year's Ball. But Miss Mellon made me quite sick of it. I fancy however, that if she had one like it, she would not scruple to wear it.— But•pray Miss Anna, what is the reason you decline going to the ball?" - "Perhaps you will be offended if I tell you that I think my attention, time and money, can be much better employed." "I believe that you are' right, Anna; but it looks so singular in a young lady to stop at home )then the world is out rejoicing." "It does indeed require a degree of moral courage to meet the charge of singularity; yet the sneers of the world are to a well regulated mind, less painful than the re proaches of one's own conscience." "And do you indeed, really think it very sinful to dance?" No gleaner, I do not think it is vary sin. fill to dance, , I am fond of dancing with , my brother at home. It is the unnecces sary expense, the fatigue, the exposure and more than these, the unhealthy excitement of the Mind, Look into your own heart, and see if you will not detect the fever of vanity, _thirsting to bear away the palm of beauty and elegance of dress. Ask if there is no longing admiration, no unwarrantable wish to win those whose love you would not remit': no Wei:llion to rival soma young creature in the eyes of one to whom she would appear pi-eminently attractive. It is therefore not to dancing, but to the fiatzf tering these evil passions of our nature; that I object. Neither can I approve of the unnecessa ry expenditure of money for these o bjects. " "Really Miss you talk like a meth. odist and a niggard. Have I not a right to expend my own income as I please?" "Do not be offended, dear Eleanor. You have undoubtedly a legal right to expend your own money as you see ht. Yet I does appear to me that poverty, sickness, and destitute childhood, have claims upon us, which we may not lightly put aside. "But if we wore to expend our whole for tunes what should we do toward relieving the amount of misery under which the whole world is groaning now?" "A' contemplation of the world's misery is indeed enough to paralyze exertion; yet if eveify person would, according to his or her ability, relieve the distresses of their immediate vicinity; I think the amount would soon be greatly depreciated." "It undoubtedly would, but I am no How ard, Anna. I am not willing to resign my own pleasure fur the sake of those who would probably make an ill use of my be neficence." "I am sorry to hear you speak so, Elea nor, for I called expressly to endeavor to enlist your sympathies for a suffering &mi. ly in our neighborhood; and I did hope that you would relinquish the ball, and apply the money which you intended.to lay out for dress and ornament to the comfort and con solation of the unfortunate." "Your onterprize, Mies Anna, is without doubt very commendable, and had your ap. peal to me have been earlier made, I might perhaps have foregone the ball, and joined you in it. But now as lam engaged to go, and have made so tnuo preparation, I shall not relinquish it ontany\account." "Not if 1 can eke i appear that the obje m corn ation is every way worthy of the4acrificel" "Doubtless there are many worthy ob jects of charity, but I cannot now attend to the claims. You will excuse me Miss Ellis, but I am engaged and Must bid you good morning." Miss Ellis left the house with a heavy heart. She had, been out all morning among her wealthy acquaintances, endeavoring to awaken an interest for an unfortunate Rini• ly, and every *here she had met with a cold, contemptuous or derisive reception.— But of the apparent candor and feeling of Eleanor Grant, she had expected better things. She was not opulent herself; or she would not have applied to others, but her heart was so interested that she felt as if others must feel also. A few days before she had been on a visit a few miles from the village and was startled by the voice of passionate weeping within a cottage by the way side, as she returned home in the eve ning. She immediately knocked at the door, and was bidden by a low voice to come in. She entered and found a young woman weeping bitterly, white a baby lay asleep on her knee, and a little girl, of about four years, stood on a chair beside her, with her arms around her mother's neck. Anna soon drew from the weeper, the cause of.her distress. She had been delicately educated in one of the 'Eastern cities; and was marri• ed to a young clerk in a dry good store, while she was almost a child. Dazzled by the exaggerated accounts of the fertility and richness of the West, that rainbow re. gion which recedes ever before the march of emigration; displaying its glorious allure ms3nts like fairy tokens, still in advance of the ardent pursuer; they gathered up their little all, and wore soon floating down the broad Ohio. Enchanted with the majestic stream.and the unrivalled beauties of its variegated borders, now swelling with fair banks, then stretching along beautifully enamelled mea dows, and anon rising in bold bluffs, or steep and forest clad mountains, they surrender their spirits to romantic dreams of opulence and happiness, without considering how they wore to be obtained. They chose a place of residence within the city of Cin cinnati, and having secured a tract of luxu riant timber land, fancied themselves rich. The kind neighbors, according to custom in log cabin countries turned out and erect ed them a commodious one for their habita tion, and they took possession in high spirits. But they were not calculated for the du ties that devolved upon them. The hus band had been a clerk, and he was illy fit ted to fell the forest and make it bud and blossom as the rose, while the wife who hed been tenderly reared and educated in what is called a fashionable school, was not cotn- petent to contend with the deprivations and hardships which become the lot of the em igrant. , It, is no wonder, under existing circum stances, that at the end of two years the Roberts' found themselves miserably poor, and quite destitute of clothing and money; while their neighbors who were fitted for their station, were becoming rich.—Chil dren came, and sickness visited them— want and suffering begat peevishness and ill humor; they reflected upon each other, grow cold and unhappy ; and be had finally deserted his helpless family, and left them to beg or starve they could. Mrs. Roberta could not do the first, and had resolved to starve in silence. But for her poor children, when she saw them pale and wasted with want, she felt her heart breaking. And now she said, as she con eluded her tale of sorrow, I have but one wiidi; and I dare not hope for its attainment. But if I could by any means get home t my father, I would ask no more. The G. VT.A.EIZINGTON norm; nnzTor. & pr.orpmsson. “The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, is above all other liberties.”—MlLTON. ,LPcncio wtiPavazQa.a . o alp aadaQ pride which so long withheld me, destitute and miserable as I am, is now quelled; and lam ready to go, even as_the poor prodi gal, to be a hired servant, in my father's house.. Miss Ellis comforted the poor weeper by giving her whereby to supply present ne• cessity; and bade her hope, saying that she would use her best endeavors to aid her return home. Mrs. Roberts fell on her knees with tears and kisses. It was in hope of raising funds to defray the expenses of the long journey, that Anna Ellis had been soliciting her friends and meekly enduring contumely, coldness, and reflections, upon her show of piety and charity. Yet it 'vas not for these that her heart so swelled, and that the b_ tears gemmed the veil which she had ga thered before her face to conceal her emotions, as she was returning home. it was for the heartless. ness of her sex, that she wept, that a beau. tiful creature would refuse to forego an un necessary ornament; or the display of the ball room, to give peace to the wounded spirit, to restore the weeping wanderer to her home and friends, and save from want and misery the helpless little ones, who however their parents may have erred, wore guiltless sufferers. Arrived at home, she retired to her chamber and sat down to endeavor to de vise some method of realizing the hopes which she had raised in the breast of Mrs Roberts. She ruminated long, and at length gave way to sorowfol emotions, and wept like a child. 'Here is a letter for you, sister,' cried a bright eyed little girl running into,hc,r room. 'But what makes you cry, dear Anna, has any one spoken unkindly to you'r 'Yes, little Ella, but I will cry, no more about it, now you have come to kiss And she took the child upon her knee and forced herself to appear cheerful and can tented. The little girl kissed her repeat• edly and at length fell asleep in her arms.— She looked upon the happy sleeper, and thought how many such were suffering from cold, hunger, and neglect. She laid the child down with a murmured prayer, and took up her letter. 'For heaven sake why has ho writtonV she cried as she glan ced at the direction of the letter and her cheek flashed, as with trembling hands, she broke tho seal. Sho read, 'IVIts Ellis—Will I hope, appreciate my motives and believe that I appreciate her worth. 1 chanced to hear the et . l:i.:a!rsat:,:/ between her and Miss Grant this morning, and I humbly trust that she will not pain me by returning the enclosed trifle, which I present, not to Miss Ellis, but to the un fortunate family of which she was speak• ing. 'That such goodness of heart may be richly rewarded, even in this life is the fer• vent prayer of . JAMES M. WINTERTON. Anna dropped the letter. Its envelope had fallen or, the floor, and her face had be• come livid and cold.—‘Ali Winterton,' she said, 'your kindness is the refinement of cruelty. Do you pray for me. Me ! from whom you have stolen the young buds of hope and happiness? Can you extol the goodness of the heart which you so cold ly have thrown from you, to wither and perish while you proffer your own at Miss Grant's altar? 1 will apply your bounty to the aid of the unfortunate; but for myself 1 would not accept aught from 3 ou. Oh, Merciful Father, forgive these rebellious throbs and aid me to say in all humility:— 'Thy will be done.' Mr. Winterton was the son of a wealthy gentleman in the interior of the State, and had been two years in Cincinnati, for the purpose of finishing his education. During this time be had boarded in Mr. Ellis's family, and by a nameless, and probable undesigned attentions, had won the whole wealth of her young and artless spirit. Of late he had establised himself in the village, treated Anna with a cold politeness and paid constant and particular attentions to Eleanor Grant. The poor girl's heart was deeply wound ed, and an apprehension that she had be trayed the state of her feelings, thus forcing him in honor to withdraw attentions, which he had never intended should go farther than a brotherly familiarity, pierced her shrinking and eensitive spirit to the very centre. But she was truly a pious girl,and her trust in him that rules the spirit and stills the tempest, alone supported her. She was prevented by a violent snow storm trom.visiting Mrs. Roberts until New Year's day. But she had in the interval procured the means of conveyance for her children, in a way more cheap and commo dious than stage coach travelling. On New Year's morning she walked out to see their', attended by her brother carry• ing a large bundle which she had made up for them. 'Oh, now 1 see cried Mrs. Ro• berts as she unwrapped the clothes, 'what you have been doing, while I . thought you had forgotten me. I can never thank you, but may the God of the widow and the fatherless reward you abundantly. Anna told what arrangements she had made; 'and here' she said 'is the money to defray the expenses of the journey; you are not to thank me for it; it was presented to you by a liberal young gentlemim, who wishes to remain unknown. The poor wo man unrolled the bills with joyful surprise, and Anna almost feared she would go deli. roils with excess of rapture. tDear angel,' she cried, 'this is to ciao a blessed New Year, and this anniversary shall 'remind mu of her who has saved my children from starvation, and restored me as I trust to homo and happiness." As Miss Ellis retraced her steps home. wards, she met a gay company engaging in a ride before they went to the ball room. Among them she recognized Wintorton and Eleanor chatting and laughing in great glee. She felt a pang in her bosom, as she passed her; and again she wept in her lone chamber. * The New year has become old, and a bright glorious morning ushered in its wel come successor. Anna sat a happy bride in her chamber. 'You will nor refuse to accompany me on a visit to Eleanor, now that she is evidently dying she said in a sweet imploring tone to the glad hearted bridegroom. 'You are a strange girl, dear Anna,' he replied, 'a sweet forgiving crea ture, or you would not wish to visit one who has injured you so deeply. How industri ously did she traduce you to me, how art fully did she throw derision on your pious spirit.—But for my good fortune in hearing the conversation between you, on that event ful morning she would have triumphed and I should have found leisure and cause for repentance. But I saw in that conversa tion both your naked hearts, and resolved from that hour to pay her no farther atten tion after the ball to which I promised to attend her:. 'And that ball,' replied Anna, 'which she could not resign at the claim of the unfortunate, proved fatal to her. A cold taken that evening is fast consuming life, and I feel compelled to go and speak comfort to her. They went, the gay dreassing room had become a dark and silent sick chamber, and 'its once happy and beautiful mistress lay there a haggard emaciation of disease. writhing with the agonies of body and mind. 'Oh Anna! Mrs. Winterton, 1 should have said; did I not know the sweet ness of your temper I should say you come here in bridal gladness to mock my misery. But I am rejoiced to see you both; and fervently do I beseech of each of you to pardon the endeavors 1 mode to rob you of your present felicity. I should have been happy at the expense of peace. I felt a selfish triumph over my meek and sincere friend and I resolved to leave no means un- tried to win the heart which I knew was her only treasure. At that ball I resolved to rivit my chains I could not forego my expected triumph at the voice of humanity, or the demand of duty. Had I. complied With your request, I might now have re in health and hope; now Oh Anna, 1 would barter the world for the filial which has sustained you under all your trials. A few days afier, and the rich, the gay and beautiful Eleanor Grant resigned her hold on life with a trembling hope of im mortality. Anna is still living. a pattern of all that adorns womanhood. But her meek brow is overshadowed when any incident recalls the events connected with the two new' years.—The one on which she went on an errand of mercy, and returned with a heart crushed beneath its broken hopes, and spir it writhing under the heartless triumph of perfidious friendship;-and that in which she returned from comforting her disappointed and stricken - rival, to the calm blessedness of her bridal chamber, and the approving smile of him who possessed her young and undivided heart. A MARRIED MAN'S REVERIE. What a blockhead my brother Tom is! not to marry I or rather, perhaps I should say, what a blockhead, not to marry some twenty-fivo years ago, for I supposed he'd hardly get any docent body to take him; as old as ho is now. Poor fellow I—what a forlorn, desolate kind of life he leads; no wife to take care of him—no children to love him—no domestic enjoyment—nothing snug and comfortable in his arrangements at home; nice social dinners; pleasant faces at breakfast. By the way, what the deuce is the reason my breakfast does not come up? I've been waiting for it this half hour. Oh, 1 forgot; my wife sent the cook to mar ket to get some trash or other for Dick's cold. She coddles that boy to death.— But after all, 1 ought not to find fault with Tom for not getting a wife, for he has lent me a good deal of money that came quite convenient, and I suppose the young ones will have all he's worth when he dies, poor fellow! They'll want it, I'm afraid, for al. though my business does very well, this housekeeping eats up the profits, with such a large family as mine. Let me see; how many mouths have I to toed every day?-- There's my wife and her two sisters—that's three; and the four boys—seven, and Lucy and Sarah anti Jane and Louisa, four more-- eleven, then there's the cook and the house maid, and the boy—fourteen; and the wo man that comes every day to wash and to do odd jobs about. the house—fifteen; filen there's the nursery maid—sixteen; surely there must be another—l'm sure I made it out seventeen when 1 was reckoning up last Sunday morning at Church; there must be another somewhere; let me see again:— wife, wife's sisters, boys, girls—oh it's my self!—Faith, I've so many to think of and to provide for. that I forget mvselfhalf the timb. Yes, that makes it, seventeen. Seventeen people to feed every day is no joke ! and somehow or other they all have most furious appetites; but then bless their hearts, its pleasant to see them eat, what a havoc they do make with the buckwheat cakes of a morning, to be sure! -Now poor Tom knows nothing of all this. There lie lives all alone by himself in a boarding house with nobody near him that cares a brass farthing whether he lives or dies.— No affectionate. wife to nurse him and coddle him up when he's sick; no hill,. prattlers Litwin him_to keep him in a goud humor; no dawning intellects whose dvuel opement he can amuse himself with watch ing day after day—nobody to study his wishes and keep all his comforts ready.— Confound it, hasn't that woman gut back from the market yet? I feel remarkable hungry. I don't mind the boys being coddled and messed if my wife likes it, but there's no joke in havine the breakfast kept back for an hour. 0 ," by the way, I must remember to buy all those things for the children to-day. Christ mas is clop at hand, and my wife has made out a list of the presents she means to put in their stockings. More expense, and their school bills coming in too; I remem ber before I was married I used to think what a delight it would be to educate the young rogues myself; but a man with a large family has no time for that sort of amusement. I wonder how old my young Tom is; let me see, when does his birthday come? Next month, as I'm a Christian; and then he will be fourteen. Boys of fourteen consider themselves all but men, now-a-days, and Tom is quite of that mind I see. Nothine" will suit his exquisite feet but Wellingtonboots, at thirty shillings a pair; and his mother has been throwing out hints for some time as to the propriety of getting a watch for him; gold, of course.— Silver was quite good enough for me. when I was half a score of years older then he ie, but times are awfully changed since my younger days. Then, I believe in my sonl, the.young villian has learned to play bil liards, and three or four times when he has come in lute at night, his clothes seemed to be strongly perfumed with cigar smoke. Heighol Fathers have many troubles and I can't help thinking sometimes that old bachelors are not such wonderful fools after all. They go to their pillows at night with no cares on their minds to keep them awake; and, when they have once got asleep, noth. leg comes to disturb their repose--nothing short of the house being on fire can reach their peaceful condition. No , getting up in the cold to walk up and down the room for an hour or two, with a squalling young varlet, as my luck has been for the last five or six weeks. It's an astenishlng thing to perceive what a passion our little, Louisa exhibits for crying; for so sure as the clock strikes three she begins, and " there's no getting her quiet again until she has fairly exhausted the strength of her lungs with good, straight-forward screaming. 1 can't for the life of me, understand why the young villains don't get through with their squal l ing and roaring in the day time when I out of the way. Then again, what a 8. lightfur pleasure it is to be rooted out or one's first nap, and sent off post haste for the doctor, as I was on Monday night, when my wife thought Sara). had got the croup, and frightened me out of my wits with her lamentations and fidgets.. By the way, there's the doctor's bill to be paid soon; his collector always pays me a visit just before Christmas. Brother Tom has no doctor to fee, and that certainly is a great comfort; bless my soul how the time slips away! Past nine o'clock and no breakfast yet—wife messing with Dick, and getting the three girls and their two brothers ready for school; nobody thinks of me starving all this time. What the plague has become of. my newspaper, 1 wonder? that young rascal Tom has carried it dr, I dare say, to read in the school when ho ought to be poring over his books. He's a great tor. went, that boy. But no matter, there's a great deal of pleasure in married life, and if some vexations and troubles do come with its delights, grumbling won't take them away, anyhow: nevertheless, brother Tom, I'm not so very certain but that you have done quite as wisely as I, after all. -- ,,,, .mi • e•.- 111Ecuatucs.—There never was a doc. trine more untrue than the now, we trust, almost obsolete one, derived from a false distinction of monarchies, that mechanical professions are menial, and beneath the station of a true gentleman. The troth is, they are the only professions that:lave sub. stance and reality and practical utility.— All else seems, on reflection, to be more speculation, ideality, dreaming, leather and prunella. The greatest men in the annala of the world—the men that have done most to enlighten and advance the prosperities and liberties of the human race, have "been mechanics. Its directness of mind—the plain good sense these pursuits inculcate, which has led to these immortal discoveries that have enriched and ameliorated the con dition of the whole human race. Name but an Arkwright, a Fulton, a Watt, a Franklin, a Whitney,&c. have discovered, great principles, but nothing that compares with the mechanic's mind. Let the sickly races of a pampered nobility turn up their noses at mechanic's as they do at merchants. It is to the working men only thats the rod of empire has been givsn, and the revolt!• tions on the globe from mechanic inven. tions of steam and of the press, and which is hourly advancing, with a pace that excites astonishment, prove incontestibly ti.it the progress of mind, of human liberty, and salvation, and of mechanics' labor, are in• dissolubly wedded. • . AN AMVaiNG INCIDENT.-1 correspon dent of the St. Louis Evening Gazette, in a letter dated Peoria, 111., .giveti the follow ing very , amusing incident, of which he was an eye witness.a few days previous: "A young man from Boston, or that vi cinity, with a friend, was sauntering atone; the bank of the river,'when they discovered V:PZIGD2at d'Pek CGI6o, a fin© buck swimming across from the op pngite shore; one of the party went, foir 11' i ilk., while the other remained to mach the hoot. Before the former'referned,the buck had nearly reached the shoie wben youtig: P.' tried to prevent his.. landing until. hirt , Illinois friend returned with the rifle. The buck immediately turned and made lei' the other shore again. Fearing he was going to lose the prize, P. 10st no time, but quip ping himself, and taking a penknife itvhssi teetht he plunged in after the animal. ,Hts overtook and Fledged him in the middle of the stream, and seizing him by the beed„ Y cut his throat with his knife, and taking the deer by one of his hinder legs, erideax ored to drag him ashore. The latter had no thought of yielding his life without ,a . struggle, and gave his enemy .a tremendous kick,, who, changing his position, took his prey by one of the ears, and after considek..,, able effort succeeded in bringing him to the,' shore, greatly to the relief of his friend,who • - had come with a musket, and had been an. aniious spectator of the danger to wbielt his Yankee companion bad unconecionsly , exposed himself. Tux AMERICAN Nxvil-11(fr. Bucking ham, the traveller, has the following, para. graph relating to the American Navy: "The American Navy comprises at pre sent, 1 three-decker of 120 guns, the Penn sylvania, built at Philadelphia, and said to be the largest ship in the world, capable of mounting 150 guns, though rated at only 120, and probably carrying. no more at present; 11 two deckers rated as 74's, though all capable of carrying from 80 to 90 guns each; 18 frigates, of 84, 44, and 36 guns respectively; 18 sloops, of 24 and 18 guns each; and 10 schooners, of 12 and 10 guns each—making altogether only 50 vessels of every class; and yet small as it is in the number of its ships its effi ciency is so great, and tho skill of its offi: cers and seamen so conspicuous, that it is superior in actual farce to any other . Navy in the world, except that of Great Britain, and would not shrink, single-handed, Irons a contest with it, gun, for gun, and man-for man, with a probability of being victor," A SIrIOULAR PLIENOMSNON..—The Boa. ton Atlas says that during the hailstorm of Wednesday afternoon, a;- Mr. John Seavei witnessed a very singular phenomenon whilst riding over the Tremont Road.— Among the hail•stones which fell, was an animal, ton inches in length, and four inches and a half in circumference, known to oat. uralists as the Lollgo inceibroeset i and, to the fisherman as the Squid. It is supposed to have fallen from a great height, from the fact that the hail-stones which fell with it were ascertained to be salt.. The animal has been preserved in spirits, and way be seen at the office of the Atlas. IMYEI AND ROMANOE.--ID the meet search and examination of the Wand and bayous in the vicinity of New Orleans, in quest of the retreats , of the supposed pirates of the . Ship Chas les, Captain Taylor found upon one of the lone Wands in the, gulf, a suspicious looking chap, and his mistress, dressed in male attire. Thoy were brought up to the. Balize, and on examination it was found that the lady was the wife, of a resident of New Orleans, and hor romantic enterprise to have sprung from the love of her new lord being eo strong as to induce her to break her marriage ties and fly with her lover to his wild and rocky retreat. GOING THE ENTIRE.-A fellow was,* cently met in great haste going towartut, pill manufactory. "Hallo, Jim, Which way now, so fast?" ' "The fact is, I have taken two bonus of fashionable pills, directions, boxes and all, without doing rtict any good. I'm going to liwallow the manufacturer now, to see Whitt-effect ho Will have." Culatritn:ei Smi.—The acts for t e encouragement of the .. . silk culture, passed by the Legi-lature of New York, on this 26th of May authorizes county , treasnrera to pay a bounty of &leen cents per pound for reeled silk, said cocoons haying been raised, and silk reeled within the State, until the Ist of June, 1890. CONSUMPTION. -It has been ascertained, that individuals laboring under consumption have been restored to health by continuing. to :nbale the air of a'place where cows era Constantly kept. Dairy women are prover biallY healthy. , An exchange paper says that the moat dignified, glorious, and" lovely work of ng. turn is woman, next to her is man, and.then Berkshire pip. . Goott.—ft is often that a One idea is ex . • pressed with Fp 'much folletty,in a totletp.a in the "Parry Spirit—The foam and aftny. 'that dash around the Ship of' Stet!, tome times threatening to engulph her,yet no4t. posed of the very elem Outs that suppoTt arid, buoy her up." An Epglrah trinn bavi2g:ltelted a si)a- Erin, if the roads in I,keli:lpd - weft - 'IIIA Pat replied, (Iree, they 441. A. spa, that A: - winder}cu donut itrip?tilgorni . ef UWAIi into England; let me . see, -the#'o 1 41, 4 ; road.;,' to loyo, strewed 'with rot* *) Ntintrtinqqi through nettloi;jo Itenor,,ttrrtiiigh . tiot . punitk . prison, through law; and to the taker's, !lirough physic? 5Haie . ye4,4030%,„ . road rn to prererentls asked thiEnglishmaa.: . ei r ea r taith, wahave, but that is the dirtiesi" road In the whole kingdom.'
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