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All Lettorsand Communications addressed to the Editor by mail must be post-paid, or they will not be attended to. TILE GARLAND. —" With sweetest flowers eurich'd From various gardens culi'd with care." From Ilan London Keeposko for 184; 1 . 333.A.L011 ST. 8111 IDWARD LITTON OIILWIIII, 8•1416 I have thy love—T know no fear Of that divine possession— Yet draw more close, and thou shalt hear A jealous he confession. Inuree'nd ping lest taker youth Or !oilier hopes should win thee.— There blew@ no wind to chill the truth, Whole eriatenth blooms within thee. Unworthier thee if I could grow, (The love that lured thee perish'il) Thy woman•heart could ne'er forego The earliest dream it cherlsh'd. I do not think that doubt and lost. Ari one—whateer they tell us. Yee—nay-lill not thy looks above— A star can make aye joslons ! If thous art mine; all nhltitVat lost, I covet so the treasure. No &twee that thou CllO4 elsewbors cut. 'But robs me of &pleasure. I am so much a miser grown, That I could wish to bide thee, Where never breath but mine alone, Could drink delight beside thee,— Then say not, with that soothing air. I have nb rivet nigh thee— The sunbeanilingering in thy heir— The breeze 'diet trembles by thee— Tho very herb beneath thy feet— The rose whose odours woo thee In all things—rivals he must meet, Who would be all things to thee ! If sunlight from the dial be, But for onr moment banishid, Turn to the silenced plate and see . The hours thbmaelves are •anish'd,--, In aught that front me• lures thine ayes, My jealousy has trial The lightest cloud stress ths'skies Has darkness for the dial. saaawmaalasimrpoo. Pros► the Southern Literary Messenger. sawn =emu= NOT mat wacucto A TALE OF REAL LIFE. The history of the heart atTorde ton many instances of the shortbightedness of man. Fortune holds nut to ni, sweet in one hand end bitter in the other; 'and with a fatuity in no wise corrected by the lessons of expe rience, we 'seize the latter. Refusing to profit by the experience of others, we put.. chase wisdom at our own cost, and obtain it too often, dot till the fruit of our folly is eaten to the core. Were our several courses marked out and unalterably fixed by the hand of destiny, we might reap Some consolation, even though our lots should fall among the very outcasts of socie ty, from a conviction, that our misfortunes were not of our own making. But when a kind Providence has placed both the good and the bad before us, and given to the most unworthy, at least. 'a choice of evils,' and we prefer the worst—then it is that even this spark of comfort is denied us, and we are left to the bitterness of our own reflection,. Alice Taylor was in some respects a peculiar girl. She was neither the queen of beauty, nor the essence of perfection— and yet there was that about her which rendered her far from uninteresting.- There was an inexpressible sweetness in her court tenanc‘3, that told directly to the heart.— Her eye was the finest I ever saw; of a dark hazel color, soft, small and dellicate, it seemed to revel in the very joys of iie own existence. Her smile was inimitable. It almost whispered the pure, unsuspecting confidence of lova. It tr,..,,ke the g6nuitio leelinge of a virtuous heart. Alice wee emphatically one of that class of girls who improve upon an acquaintance. Thou only who were admitted to the se creay of the private circle, could fully op. preciate her merits. It was my fortune to become one of these. The friendship which lat first entertained towards her as a young lady of agreeable manners, soon expanded into attachment; atid.tbis in turn brightened into love, and I began to ponder the propriety of making some special ad. vances. There were but two serious ob jections. She was of a delicate constitution, and as I feared, too young. Physiology had taught me to believe, that either the one or the other ought to be a bar to .mar nage, and this opinion, 1 have never up to the present hour, seen ChUllO to abandon; though since that time, year after year has winged its rapid flight into the dreamy re glens of the past. While thus at a stand—uncertain wheth er or not to advance, I learned that a young Mr. Terrell was addressing her. ObsPr vation proved the report to be true. My course was decided. 1 handed her a letter. I was entered as a rival. Until a few months previous, I had never seen her face. My father's home was far distant. I was 'a stranger in a strange land,' Terrell, on the contrary, lived in the same neighborhood, and had known her almost from infancy. Though he was not handsome, and notwithstanding his educa tion was liinited, his reputation was never theless fair, and he was a family connection ,of hers. He was also, to a small extent, my superior in point of fortune. To , oppose these odds, I offered a personal appearance which vanity whispered would be highly flattered by a comparison with his —an unblemished character—and my college diploma. Determined not to be elated with sue• cess, in order the more easily to bear up against a failure, I awaited an answer to my communication with almost a stoic's indifference. It came not. I sought a personal interview, and was referred to a hiture period for a definite reply. At the time' appointed,' she declined carrying the matter further for want of sufficient age.— Strange, thought I, she had not made the discovery sooner 1 But why need L wond er, when she had heard from my own lips, my unyielding opposition to early mania. gee ! Judge of my surprise at learning that very evening, that she had not reached fifteen. This reconciled me to the end— but I would have preferred other means. Her refusal was conveyed in such exceed ingly delicate terms, that I should have felt degraded in my own estimation, had been unconscious of entertaining - % I , i-nio ment a shade of resentment. No! though I . forgot to love, 1 could never cease to re spect. My notions of the independence which a gentleman should possess on *such occasions, were perhaps Somewhat singular. They .may have degenerated into obstinacy. I had resolved that no lady should ever have the opportunity of discardioa me twice.— And yet I felt half inclined ' to make her case an exception.. On ascertaining her age.. however, this idea was abandoned finally and forever. - Never again were my lips to whisper love to her. Henceforth I was to exercise toward Miss Taylor only esteem, but that of the highest order. Thus commenced, and thus ended, my second love-scrape. My first has never been given to the public. A few months rolled around, and I was sitting one evening in my chamber, closely engaged in study. A friend entered, with —'News for you.' 'Ah! for met' said I. 'roe: Alice is to be married, and she marries not her choice.' 'You are in jest.' 'Not 1. My authority is undoubted. It is her own language. She yields to the persuasions of her friends.'. 'Are you in earnest. '1 em. 'Whom does she marrvr 'Terrell.' 'Her choicer. 4 W. G. P--,' naming myself. 0! there are momenta when • the heart sickens at success. There are times when victory itself is a curse. My spirit sunk within me. My blood seemed to stagnate. The very fountains of life appeared for a time to have dried up. To have courted her—to have been defeated—to have' re conciled. myself to that defeat, under the conviction that it wee preferable to success —to be told that her heart was mine, her hand another's—that she was to marry a man for whom she could entertain, perhaps, only a cold respect—to think that but for me, she would, at, least, have married him with a better show of propriety, aid might have never known vvhat•it was to love an• other—that she could return only Melees formality, where pure, ardent affection would be expected—that she was about to bestow only her hand upon him, who would be entitled to both heart and hand--to be hove that the consequences of such a union, would be loathing, dissatisfaction and dis. gust, 'lO that Alice must drag out an un happy existence in the embrace of one she could not love-0! these were reflections which pietced to the very bottom 'of my soul. Would that I had never handed her that letted—O! that she had gone to the alter uninformed of another's love. Bless ed ignorance! hated and detested as then art by the wise, 'tie to thee, the countless children of Adam are indebted torn° small share of sublunary bliss.. In due time, the wedding day was set.— It came. I stood by Terrell's side before G. WASEINGTOZT 130=111 211DITOP. & PROPRIZTOR. 'I The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely. Si above all other liberties.” --MICRON. satteuqrazirate. 4742.. ultra/await. V , 07) 02 ID 21 ra Ilium. the man of God. I heard him take the solemn pledge, I heard ber vow "to love, honor and obey." I heard them pronoun ced 'men and wife.' They became seated. Both smiled, and one was happy. 1 was the first to offer congratulations, but alas t they proceeded only from the lips. The evening was spent in amusements, till at a late hour, the company separated. 1 re turned to my lodgings filled with the moat melancholy reflections. Spring came and with it a change in my pursuits. New engagements called me to a distant part of the country. I became absorbed in the cares and anxieties of life. The duties of my profession were arduous, and the demands upon my attention ince.. sant. Amid a crowd of businese, the fair were almost forgotten, if that were possible. At length, however an unexpected turn of events brought' me some relaxation. I lost no time in improving it, and soon found myself a suppliant at the shrine of beauty. My efforts were crowned with success.— We were married. Never, never shall I forget the thought. which that evening rushed through my mind. The joyful an ticipations, the happy dreams, the eager longings of childhood, youth and early . manhood,—the whole twenty five years of my life seemed to have crowded and cen tered themselves in that one hour. There by my side, sat the object of all my earthly aspirations—the fair being whom I had so often before.vainly endeavored to picture in imagination. There she•eat, a living real ty. My happiness wae•cornplete. Visions of the future started up to view before me. We had pledged ourselves to tread the path of life together. Was that path to be strew ed with flowers or• with thorns? Wne she the child of affluence, to bless the day that united her fate with mine, or to plod the down hill of life in the cold habiliments of want? ThougtlN such as these clouded my brow with 'Anse. (mid the hilari ty and mirth and joy which prevailed a round tiro—in'the secrecy and depth of my awn soul, I pledged myself to be her pro tector, her support, and her comfort. With all the sacredness of an oath, I vowed that as she had been nursed in the lap of fortune, so with the smiles of heaven on my efforts, she should still enjoy, at least a compe tency. After the 'honey moon' had been spent in the usual interchange of visits—the giv ing and receiving of dinners, parties, &c., I applied myeell ith renewed ardor to the duties of my calling. Untiring industry and perseverance, aided by my own and my wiftes capital, soon put me in possession of quite a handsome estate, and I resolved as soon as my affairs could be properly ar. ranged, to retire into private life. For a few -years after I engaged in my professional p u rsuits, I had been seems tomed to think frequently with a sweet soothing melaricholly pleasure, of Alice. Gradually. however, as the cares of a fami ly and the duties of public life increased in their demands upon my attention, 1 found less time to devote In musings on the past. till finally her memory had well nigh faded from my mind. Even thought itself in its backward flight through the long vista of years, now scarcely lingered a moment round her name. Accident served to recall it in all the freshness and vigor of youth. Professional engagements called me to a distant part of the state, and as my route would necessarily lie 'near the section in which Alice had formerly resided, I deter mined to turn aside from my direct came, to learn enmething of her history. I put up for the night at an inn in the neighbor hood, and in due time inquired for Mrs. Alice Terrell. I was answered with a sigh, which evidently betokened no good. Her story as related by the landlord was this: "Shortly after marriage, she and her husband settled- on an excellent farm with every prospect of a long and happy life. For a few years, they seemed to en joy themselves much in each other's en -604: At length, however, as the ardor of youth wore off, most of those little linen• tions so common with a newly married couple, and which, though of small real val ue in theinselves,yet add soimuch to the hap. pinese of domestic life, were laid aside; particularly by Mrs. Terrell. She did not, as elle had once done, now run to meet him at the door.- Her inquiries about his eue. cess or disappointment in business, were neither so frequent nor so earnest as- for. merly. Her sympathy was nut so freely extended, nor did she enter so , fully into his feelings, as in times past. Still there was no decided mark of disrespect—there 1 1 was no complaining—no chiding. Alice had too much good sense to manifest any thing of that kind. She only did not love. But she endeavored to respect him, and to some extent succeeded.• Yet her proles. siona, were not so warm as they had been. Terrell began to doubt the sincerity of his wife's affection. Unwilling to trust to first impressions, lest perchance he should be led into error, he examined the matter closely and minutely, until- at last, when all hope had failed him, he reluctantly consented to believe that his wife had given him her hand and withhold her heart. He was r forced to acknowledge to himself his con ' viction that his own wife did not love him. That hour struck a death-blow to his peace. He was an extremely sensitive man—ready to assert his rights the instant they were invaded or disputed, and had idolized his wife. To meet with lifeless respect, where he had looked for ardent affection, was, a fate for which ho WHIP by no means prepa reit. And yet he felt that it was hie fate. His very brain staggered beneath the blow. He fied . to the bottle for relief. It foiled of the aid he sought. The card-table follow ed. For a time his troubles were drowned amid the .- excitement of the play. But even thieafforded only a forgetfulness of his misery; while his lucid intervals were filled up, Wojtiv the reproaches of • guilty -con s-della. ' His strides to ruin . increased with most fearful rapidity. till in the short space of two years ' an affray at a horse. race terminated his career. Fortunately, the brevity of his course forbade his squan dering the whole of his estate. A suffi ciency was left to afford his family the necessaries, but not the luxuries of life." On the next day I called upon Mrs. Ter. reit, and learned form her own lips the whole history of the matter; which corres ponded substantially with that given above by the landlord. She bad three interesting children, ono son and two daughters, the younger of which (then about four year. of age,) I was permitted, after much persuasion, to adopt. She is to be educated along with my own daughters. Whatever care may be be. stowed upon them, shall be freely shared with her. In fact, . I intend to spare no pains to render her in every respect an a ble and accomplished lady. In the course of a couple et days, I left the dejected, melencholly widow, to attend to the business which bad called me from home. 'Alice Taylor married not her choice.' YANKEE ENTERPRISE. One day, a lad, apparently about nine teen, presented himself before our embassa dor at St: Petersburg. He was a pure specimen of the genus Yankee; with sleeves too short for his bony arms, trowiters half way up to his knees and hands playing with coppers and ten-penny nails in bre pocket. He introduced himself by saying "I've jest, come out here to trade with a few Yankee notions, and 1 want to get sight of the em peror.' 'Why do-you wish to see him? 'l've brought him a present, all the way from Ameriky. I respect him conaidera• ble, and I want to get at him, to give it to him with my own hands.' Mr. Dallas smiled, as he answered, 'lt is such a common thing, my lad, to make crowned heads a present, expecting some thinghandsome in return, that I'm afraid the emperor will consider this only a Yan kee trick. What have you brought?' 'At acorn. 4 ,Azt %corn 1. whet under the sun induced you to bring the eanpuror of Russia as acorn?' 'Why, jest befo►e I sailed, mother and I went on to Washington to see aboutt,a pen sion; end When we was there, we thought we'd jest step over to Mount Vernon. I picked up this acorn there; and I thought to myself, I'd bring it to the emperor. Thinks 1,43.11, he must , have heard a considerable deal about our General Washington,.and I expect he must admire our institutions. So now you see I've brought it, and I want to get of him.' 'My lad, it's not an easy matter for a stranger to approach the emperon'and 1 am afraid ho will take no notice ofyour presont. You had better keep it.' tell you I want to have a talk with him. 1 guess he'd like mighty well , to hear about our railroads, and our free schools, end what a big swell our steamers cut. And when he hears bow well our people are getting on, maybe it will [ put him np to doing something. The long and the short on't is, I shan't be easy till I got a talk with the emperor; and I should like to see how each folks bring up a family.' 'Well eir,eince you are determined upon it, I will do what I can for you; but you must expect to be disappointedi Though it will be rather an unusual proceediog, I would advise you to call on the sicis•ohan cellor, and state your wishes; he may poe. sibly assist you.' 'Well, that's all I want of you. I will call again, and let you . know how I get on' In two or three days, ho again appeared, and said: 'Wall, I've semi the emperor, and had a talk with him. He's a real gentleman, I can tell you. When I give him the acorn, he said ho should set a great store by it; that there was no charac ter in ancient or modern history he admir ed so much, as he did our . Washington.— He said he'd plant it in hie palace •garden with his own hand; and he did .do it—for see him with my own - eyes. He wanted to ask me so much about our echools and rail• roads, and one thing or another, . that he invited me to come again, and see his daughters; for he said his wife could speak better English than he could. So I went again, yesterday; and she's a fine, knowing woman, I toll you; and hie daughters aro nice girls.' 'What did the empress say to you'!' 'Oh, she asked' me weight o' questions.— Don't you think,. she thought we had no servants 'in Ameriky I told her, poor folks did their own work, but rich folks had plenty of servants. 'But then you don't call 'cm servants.' said she; 'you call 'em help.' I guess ma'am you have been reading Mrs. Trollop? says" I. We had that ere book aboard our ship'.' 'The em• peror clapped his bands, and laughed as if he'd kill hiniseif. 'You're right, sir, said he, 'you're right. We seat for an English .copy, and she's been reading it this very morning!' Then 1 told all I knew about our country, and be was mightily pleased. He wanted to know how long I expected to Islay in these parts. I told him I'd sold all the notions I brought over, and I guessed I should go back in the same ship, I bid 'em good bye. all round, and went about my business. Ain't I had a glorious time? I expect you didn't calculate to sea me run such a rig?' 'No, indeed. I did not my lad. 'You may well consider yourself lucky for it's very uncommon thing for crowned beads to treat a stranger with so. much clistinc , tion.' A few days after, he called again, end said. 'I guess I shall stay bere a spell long er, I'm treated so well. T'other day a grand officer came to my room, end told me the emperor had sent him to show me all the curiosities; and I dressed myself, and he took me with him, in a mighty fine carriage, with four horses; and I've been to the theatre and the museum; and I expect I've seen about all there is to be seen in St. Petersburg. What do you think of that, Mr. Dallas?' It seemed so incredible that a poor, un gainly Yankee lad should be so loaded with attentions, that the ambassador scarcely knew what to think or say. In a 'llion time, his strange visitor re appeared. 'Well,' Paid he made up my mind to go home; so I went to thank the emperor, and bid him goodbye? I thought I could'nt do no less, he'd been so civil.— Says he, 'ls there any thing else you'd like to see before you go oack to Arneriky?' I told him .I . should like to get a peep at Moscow; for I'd heard considerable hbout their setting fire,to the ,Kremlin, and I'd read a deal about General Bonaparte; but it would cost a sight o' money to go, there, and I wanted to carry my w earnings to mother. So I bid him good bye, aid came off. Now, what do you guess he did next morning? I vow he sent the same man in regimentals, to carry me . to Moscow, in one of his carriages, and bring me back again, when I've seen all 1 want to see! And we're going to-morrow, ,mOroing, Mr. las. What do you think now?' And sure enough, the next morning the Yankee boy passed the , einbaseador's boon in a splendid coach and four, waving his handkerchief, and shouting, 'Good bye ! Good bye!' Mr. Dallas afterward learned from the emperor that all the particulars related by this adventurous youth were strictly true. He again heard from him at Moscow, wait ed upon by the public officer., and treated with as much attention as is usually be stowed on ambassadors., The last tidings of him reported that be was travelling in Circuina, and writing a Journal whicli he intended to publish. Now, who but a Yankee could have Jane all that? ..moss•.0010.. AN IMILLIGLINT LieilLATos.--The ed itor of the Jonfieville Telegraph, in report ing the doings of the Tennessee Legisla• lure, among other matters gives the speech of one Mr. Dew, of Maury, which contains a rare collection or sparkling gems of fan cy. Here is an extract from it: "Sir, I would have gentlemen of the dominant party to understand that Demo. crate are not to be deterred from the de. fence ofJohn Tyler, if they think him worthy of support. He was not our can didate but theirs. But sir, he is a native of the Old Dominion, the land of Tam Jefferson, pi Madison. of the immortel Washington—the land of , Presidents and the birthplace of the fathers of Democrats. Mr. Speaker, when I' speak of the Father of his Country,, I de it with feeling emotions of my soul— Alas! is there any gentlemen present who doss not chill pp, `at the men tion of his name, as if he were shivering among the eternal snows of South Ameri ca/ But, sir, 1 cannot dwell here., ' I re peat that John Tyler descended from a poor stock—yes air, from the noble band of Pilgrim Fathers who landed before my day, or your day, on the Plymouth Rock in Old Virginia. And there, Mr. prlak er, to this day that old rock rears its proud front, as ace of the glorious itominisnts of the Old Dorian:lA.' 'At this stage of the remarks of Mr. Dew, the audience interrupted. him with loud outcries, whether et applause or con demnation is not stated, although the werde "Go it, Dew," were particularly audible. After Mr. D. had concluded his speech, another gentleman rose and observed that he would like to hear a tittle more from the gentleman who had just taken his seat, relative to the geographical location of "Old Plymouth Rock." Mr. Dow replied,--,"The Rock is where you nor I have never been, and that is sufficient; and if it is not ; air, I repeat it is in the Old Dominion, comrponly,called the State of Virginia."—[§oreams and yells.] , A YOUNG Farrow op PLEAFURII. — "I atty . , Wildgoose," said an old Sobereides, “did you ever see a little kitten in pursuit of its own tail? Round and round she goes, now on one haunch and then on the other, gravely kicking and grioning—and all for what? Why, it it sat otill, there's its tail under its nine. Now, that's the 'moral' of a young fellow of pleasum"-- N. Amu NIBIGUEORLIC.—"Mrs. Jinkins," said a little red headed girl, with a pug nose and bare feet,."mother says you will obleege her by letelin her a stick of firewood—filltn this cruet with vinegar—puttin a little soft soap in this pan, and please not let your turkey-gobblers roost on our fence."—W. paper. 11K120161.11 cilPoo One must read country newspapers in order to town afi that is done, doing, and being done in the city. How many of our , neighbors are acquainted with the fed 'sta • - ted in the following extract of a letter from Boston, published in Hill's New Hampshire Patriot? Among the new inventions and contriv vancer of which I have lately heard, is something which bid. fair to become uoi venially useful to the city and country and the world, and that is a new method of making vod, light, sweet bread. All the world ,knows, that one of the moat difficult and perplexing matters to house keepers is to have good ensptings or yeast for bread. Now the invention is this: —Take an acid like cream of tarter, I mean simply an acid in the form of a powder, and rub a suffici ent quantity ofthis dry powdered acid into a proper. luantity of dry flour. Then wet the flour and put in your alkali, potash ,or any, fixed alkali. Tho valuable part of the discovery is this, the acid and alkali' will not effervesce until the loaf is binged, wbert the acid is rubbed into the flour in a dry state. The experiment is worth trying --i assure you that a most delicious bread is produced, light, sweet and good, in this manner, from any good flour or meal you use wheat, rye or Indian. Cream ofltarter may he used for the purpose of trying it. Nothing can be more healthful than this breed. Tho inventor is a baker by trade, and I believe that it will come into use eve ry where. Try it yourself by rubbing into your flour, in a perfectly dry state, some cream, of tarter, and then mixing up the batter with whatever liquid you 'please, milk buttermilk, or water, and lidding a little salieratus. You will have ah excellent and toothsome and irholesome bread. Armen°Tn.—During the rivalry between Utica and Rochester; N. Y. a gentleman merchant from the latter place one day wee travelling through a part of Oneida county. Being of a hUmorous turnout passing a Dutch dwelling wheie a stove oven was heating, which was situated out of doors, at one side of the houle, he Celt diejosed to.boai Its inhabitants. He called out, "Hallo, the house! hallo, the house!" Out came the Dutchmen,; the Dutch. man's wife, the Dutchman'e throe cone and the Dutchman's eleven daughters. He observed to them, "Your oven's on fire I" They all flew swiftly around the corner of the house, and the merchant rode on en joying the joke. A short time since, the same gentleman was travelling to , the east in a gig, the roads were uncommonly mud dy. He was about passing thesame farm house,but he had forgotten, the, place, when a lad came running towards him, with great anxiety depicted in his ,countenance. i'gir," said he, "yeur wheel is km." The men immediately got out into t h e mud and looked at the wheel, when the boy exclaimed, 41 Th• other wheel yr." Around he waded through the mud, fill ing his pumps with water and mire, exam ined the finch pin there, and mid to the boy, "I do not see any thing out of the way." "Why I thought %was loose," said the lad, "I saw it turn round," at the same time describing a circle with his finger. "You provoking little rascal, what do you meant" exclaimed the gentleman. "Ay,' says the lad, "the oven. on fire! the oven's on fire!" The merchant was so highly pleased with the lad's wit, that he threw him a dollar and eontiaued his journey.—Old Colony Memorial. Claims or Wouu,.-The &Menus et women ii the result of the carelessness of man; for even in their haughtiest moods they Gan be easily subdued by kindness.— That is their legal claim upon the rougher sex, who, alter all, are ever attached to her, even when they appear most alienated from the fervor of her affections. As it is most natural, so it brings to us a vision or heaven, when two fond hinge glide through the world in lovingness together; and aviary wedded pair might be that happy , couple did they but bear each other's burdeos, and strive, with half the. zeal they sometime. exert to make each other miserable, tacon tribute to their mutual happiness. Ann wo man is the mother of the world, 'O. Shfr should be the instrootnass-r•the fountain of wisdom as of pleasure; and she who is most deeply read in the history of her duties will make the best companion and the truest and fondest wile, though a spark of beauty never lighted upon hex cheek, nor a jewel glis tened in her hair. It is the native grace, the richness of ber modesty, the worth and excellence of her temper, that makes her what she is, and what Nature cries aloud she ever will remain—the best and truest friend of man. Fin re GVN.—A -Hilda 'boy got his Grandfather's gun and loaded itr but was afraid to fire it; he, however, liked the fun of loading and so put in another charge. but was still afraid to fire. Ile,kept on charging, hot not firing, until he had get etz charges in foe old piece. His grand mother. learning his temerity, stoutly re• proved him and, grasping the old euntlnen• tal, discharged it. The recoil was trPmen clout, throwing the old lady on -her back , ahe promptly struggled to regain her test, but the boy cried , out, is Lay stilt grattny, there are five charges more to go off yet." 41 believe in the law .andprofte: as the limier said when he pocketed the fiwa.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers