The Potter journal. (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, April 20, 1864, Image 1

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Gix.—From the Boston Post.]
4u. W. IllcAlarney, Proprielor.T
* * *Devoted to the cause of Itepublicaut...„
'the interests of Agriculture, the advancensfnt
`of Educatiori, and the "best good of Potter
sounty. Owning no guide except that" of
'Principle. it Will erdeaver to aid in the wOrk
'.tof dibre folly I;•reedomizing our Country.
A .,.
DVERTISEMENTS inserted at the following
rates, except where special bargains are made.
I Square [lO lines] 1 insertion, - - - 50
3:...... f' . .. -- .- .1 $l, pp
.Bach snbsequent insertion less than 'l3, 125
A Square three months, . 2 50
:1 " six " 4OO
A • " nine '; 450
q / " one year, . 09 0
,I Column six months, . 2q op
~ ~ ,‘ 10 'OO
I ~ ~ ~ tp) o
A . " per year. ' 40 b 0
ti. a. - a a y- - 26 b 0
administrator's or Executor's Notice, 2ti 0
Business Cards, S lines or less.,Per:vear 5 po
special and Editorial Notices, per line, 7.0
**All transient advertisement mast be
paid in advance, and no notice will be tak'pn 1
'of advertisements from a distance, unless thby
are accompanied by the money or s.atisfact4ryl
reference. 4. • - 1 I
nail Job Work of all kinds, it
tended to promptly and faithfully%
Free and Emepted Ancient YorkLsoar.
EULALIA LODGE, No. 342; F. A. N.
,STATED Meetings on the 2111 and 401 Wedne
sdays of each month; Also Mtscnii , .7
ins on every Wednt•Fday Evenint , .. fur %veils
and practice, at their Hall in Cwhiersp ,, rt.
ljouderiport„ Pa., 11": i I cen i UR' Severill
Courts in PotLer and Ct - antics.
Intsine , :s en:rthded itt hi> ettr,t. NViii receive
. prompt - attentivn. (lake. comer
nail Third street,..
( . uudersport. Flt., wilt att-nd to. .Cti ja;sittcs
entrusted to Ills care. with tat.:uptues
`fidCizr. °ince e:t Soth-a - e:t of Main
and Fourth it7uets.
ATTORNEY AT 1.. A Colider,port, Pa., will
attend to all baii.inesz: entril,te , f i to hini, with
care and proniptneL , i. Oi oa Second
near the _Weil - he:ly Bridge.
kTTORNEY AT I . .AN\ - . conder:::4,7t. ra.. will
r ie,gularly attend l'ourts in i I'u:ter av
the adjoining Coan , ;
_ _
0. T. ELLISON. •
'PR. OTICINGPTiSICIA.N . , Co t1 , 1(1 - snort,
respeetrolly inf,mnr , the citizens of the
lage and• vicini tha he will proetplY rd
spond to all en Is for profe , slonai zenlee'F.
Office on Main ,t.. in bnil•iing fohaerly
copied by
C. S. &, E. A. JONES
Farwy Articles, S::::iOncry. Dr:r Good:
Groceries, Cot:4lcrs i kn't, Pa.
Clothing, Crockery, Grot:!:ries, Alaitz st.,
Cewlersport, Pa.
(DEALER. in Dry Goods. Groceries, Pro e visions:
liardware, Queensware, Cutlery, and all
Goods usually found, in a country :Store.--;
Coudersport, Nov. :27, 18f.a.:.
GLASSMIRE, Proprietor. Corner o.';
Main and Second Streets, Colldersport, Pot.;
ter Co. ' Pa. ' t
A Stable is also kept in connect
Carr with this Hotel.
TAlLOR—ocarly opposite the Court House—
will make all clothes intrusted to him
the latest and best styles —Prices to suit .
the times.—GiTe him a call. 13.41
WARE, Main st., nearly opposite the Court
Howe, Couderspoit, Pa. Tin and Sheet
Iron Ware made to order, in good style, on
short notice.
ELLS HORTON, Jrc., Principal
MrB. AIL WALKER Honmr, Prectptress
Miss NELLIE WALKED, Assistant
Miss GERALDISE WOOD,. Teacher of Music
The Fall Term commences August 26.
The Winter Term commences December 9.
_ The Spring Term commences March 25.
Tuition from Three to Five Dollars.
Board $1.50 per week.
Furnished rooms for self-boarding at low
For further information address the Princi
pal or the undersigned.
President Board of Trustees
THlSPopular Hotel is situated near the
corner of Murray Street and Broad
hsy the Park within one block
of the Hudson 'River Rail Road and near the
brie Rail Road Depot. It is one of the most
bleasatit and convenient locations in the city.
Board & Booms SL.SO per day.
N. HUGGINS, Proprietor.
Feb. 18th, 1863.
e Rochester Straiw-Cutter.
fiLIISTED & KELLY, Coudersport, hare
A. 7 the eicluaire agency for this celebrated
inaeiatai, le this county. It it corenient,:fiu- .
Were, and BHEA.I O ; • Dee: 1, 1341. lE
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Land of ply firth than art far away,
My eyes thou cant not bless !
Thou'at vanished from thy votary,
Like youthful happiness.
I stand alotie,land think of thee,
While on the sea I pore,
And all my dreams, with eestacy,
Revert to thy loved shore!
When listening to the ocean's roar, .
I'm filled with trembling joy,—
And dreamed myself at Gone once more,
And when I was a boy.
And in the wind I seem to hear
Thy linden's rustling leaf,
Whose grateful shade was want to cheer
The school-boy's transient grief.
In its tumultuous, noisy - Way,
The mountain stream doth blend
With its discourse, exultant, gay,
The name of each old friend.
The sound of bells upon thy'h.erds,
By ocean borne along.
Brings to fond memory the words
Of s- familia: song.
I hear the bird sing on the spray—
The murmur of the tree,
Whose rustling branches, in 'their play,
Sti:l cry : "I.emember me 1"
The sea, alone, with its rough swell,
Connects aze still with thee
And on its shore, as sad farewell,
I kiss tke last tall tree.
Adoringly I think of thee,
To me forever dear
--Intl send thee. on this rolling sea,
A IJ:cal:jug heart's last tear
In a, number c yf the Boston Limmon
wealth we find t to following sketch of a
scene in one of the army hospitals at
Washington, from the pen of Louisa M.
Alcoa, of Boston, who performs the du
of a nurse:
• One evening I found a latel ) y lemptted
bed occupied by a large fair mad, with a
tine face and the serenest eyes I ever met.
One of the earlier comets had often spoken
of a friend who had remained behind that
those worse wounded than himself might
reach a shelter first. It seemed a David
:and Jonathan sort of friendship. The
man fretted for his mate, and was never
tired of praising J ohn, his courage, sobri
c:y, self denial and unfailing kindliness
' of heart, always winding up :
l an out and out fine feller, ma'aw, you see
if he ain't." I had some curiosity to be
hold this piece of exec-Hence. and when
he came, watched him for a night or two
before I wade friends with him ; for, to
tell the truth, I was a little afraid of the
stater• looking wan 'whose bed had to be
lengthened to aceximmodate his ctm•
banding stature, who seldom spoke, in-:
tered no word Of complaint, asked no sym
pathy, but tranquilly observed what went
on about him ; and, as he lay high upon
his pillows, no picture of dying statesman!
or warrior was ever fuller of real dignity
than this Virginia blacksmith.
A most attractive face he had, framed
[in brown hair and bearded, cowely-fea
' tured and full of vigor as yet unsubdued
by pain, thoughtful and often beautifully
mild while watching the afflictions -of
others, as if entirely forgetful of his own.
His mouth "was grave and firm with plenty
of will and courage in its lines, but a
smile could wake it sweet as any woman's;
lane his eyes were child's eyes, looking
Lyon fairly in the face, with a straightfor
ward glance, whiCh promised - well for such
l as placed their faith in-him. He ,seemed
!Ito cling to life as if it were rich in duties i
!'and delights, and he had learned . the se-1
leret of content. The only time I saw his!
[ composure disturbed was when my sur
geon brought another to examine John, I
who serutinized their faces with an anx
ious look, asking of the elder: "Do you
think I shall pull through, sir?" "I
hope so, my man." And as the two'
passed on, John's eyes still followed them I
with an intentness which would have won
a clearer answer from them, had they seen
it.. A momentary shadow flitted over his
face, then came the usual serenity as if in
that brief eclipse he had acknowledged!
i,he existence of some hard possibility,'
and, wiring nothing yet hoping all things,
left the issue in God's hand, with thai
submission which is true piety
The next night, as I went my rounds
with Dr. P—, I happened to ask which
man in the room probably suffered most,
and to my great surprise he glanced at
"Every breath be draws is like a stab;
for the ball pierced the left lung, broke a
rib, and did no end of damage here and
there; . so the poor lad can find neither
forgetfulness nor ease, because he must
lie on his wounded baCk sitffodate. It
be a hard Struggle, and a long one,
for be possesses' great vitality, but even
bebotea io igipeipizs of 'No aliairlocilz, 410 lip @i„szeirpiritioß of ylfehtiiv,
his temperate life can't save him. I
wish it could."
"Yon don't mean be mnsi die, doctor !"
"Bless you, there's not the slightest
Lope for him, and you'd better tell him
so before long—women have a way of
doing such things comfortably, so I leave
it to you. He won't last more than a day
or two, at farthest."
I could have sat down on the spot and
cried heartily, if I had not learned the.
wisdom of bottling up one's tears for leis
ure moments. Such an end seemed very
bard for such a man, when half a dozen
worn out, worthless bodies round him
were gathering up the remnants of- wasted
lives to linger on for years, perhaps bur
dens to others, daily reproaches to them
selves. The army needed men like John,
earnest, brave and faithful, fighting for
liberty and justice with both heart and
hand, a true soldier of the Lord. I could
not give him up so soon, or think with
any patience of so excellent a nature rob
bed of its fufilment, and blundered into
eternity by the rashness or stupidity of•
those at whose hands so many liv'es may
be required. It was an easy thing for
Dr. P— to say, "Tell him be must die,"
but a erue'ly hard thing to do, and by no i
means as "comfortable" as he politely I
suggested. I had not the heart to do it
thee, and privately indulged the hope that
some change for the better might fake!
place, in spite of gloomy prophesies, so;
rendering my task unnecessary.
After that night, an hour of each even
ing that remained to him, was devoted to
his ease or pleasure. He could not talk
much, for breath was precious and he
spoke in whispers, but from occasional
conversations I gleaned scraps of private
history which only added to the affection
and respect I felt for him. Once he asked
me to write a letter, and as I settled pen
and paper, I said with an irrepressible
glimmer of female curiosity, "Shall it be
addressed to wife or mother, John ?"
•ither ma'am ; I've get no wife, and
will write to mother myself when I get
better. Did you think I was married
because of this ?" he a.,ked,- touching a
plain ring he wore, and often turned
thoughtfully on his finger when he lay
"Partiv that, bat more from a settled
sort of look you have, which young men
seldom get until they marry."
"k didn't know the:, but I'm not so
very younf_z, wa'r.m—thirty in May r and
have been what you might call settled
this ten years, for mother's a widow. I'm
the oldest child she has, and it wouldn't
do for we to marry till Lizzy has a home
of her own, and Laurie's learned his
trade; for we're not rich, and I must be
father to the children and husband to the
dear old woman, if I cvn."
"No doubt you are bath; John. vet how
came you to go to the war, if you felt so?
Wagn't enlisting as bad as u - arrYing?"
'No ma'am, not as I see it; for one is
helping wy neighbor. the other pleasing
myself. I went because I couldn't limp
it. I didn't want the glory or the pay, I
wanted tile right thing done, and people
kept saying the men who were in earnest
ought to fight. I was in earnest, the
Lord knows, but I held off 'as long as I
could, not knowing which was my duty.
Mother saw the case, gave me her ring
to keep me steady, and said 'go ;' so I .
went." •
"Do you ever regret that you came
when you lie here suffering so much ?"
"Never, ma'am. I haven't helped a
great deal, but I've shown I was willing
to give my life, and perhaps I've got to;
but I don't blame anybody, and if it was
to do over again, I'd do it. I'm a little
sorry I wasn't wounded in front. It looks
cowardly to be hit in the back, but I
obeyed orders, and it don't matter in the
end, I know."
Poor John ! it did not matter now, ex
cept that a - shot in front' might have
spared the agony in store for him. He
seemed to read the thought that troubled
me, as he Spoke so hopefully when there
was. no hope, for he suddenly added :
"ThiS is my first baitle—do they
it's going to be my last ?"
''f'm afraid they do-, John."
It was the hardest question I had ever
been called upon to answer; .doubly hard
with those . clear eyes fixed on mine, forc
ing a truthful answer by their own truth
Efe seemed a little startled at first, pon
dered over the fateful fact a moment, then
shoal; his head with a glance at the broad
chest and muscular limbs stretched out
before him. •
"I'm not afraid, but it's difficult to be
lieve all at once. I'm so strong it don't
seem possible for such a little wound to
kill me."
"Shall I write to your mother now ?"
I asked, thinkiii - er. that these sudden fi
dings might clZge all plans and put.-
pies ; but they did riot; for the man re
ceit'ed the order of the Divine Commander
to march with the same unrinestionin
obedience with which the soldier bad re
delved that of the human one, doubtless
remembering that the Exit led him to life,
the last to death. '
"No, ma'am, to Laurie, just the same;
he'll break it to her best, and I'll add a
line to her myself when you bet done."
So I wrote tht letter which be dictated,
finding it better than any I had sent, for,
though here and 'there a little ungram
matical or inelegant, each sentence came
to me briefly worded, but most expressive,
full of excellent counsel to the boy, ten
derly-bequeathing "mother and Lizzie"
to his care, and bidding him good-bye in
words the sadder for their simplicity. He
added a few lines with, steady hand, and
as I sealed it, said, with a patient sort of
sigh, "I hope the answer will come in
time for me to see it" , then, turning
away his face, laid the flowers against his
lips, as if to hidesome quiver of emotion
at the thought of such a sundering of all
the dear home ties.
These things had happened two days
before. Now, John was dying and the
letter had not come. I bad been suiu
moned to many death beds in my life, but
to none that made my heart ache . as it
did then, since my 'mother called melt()
watch the departure of a spirit akin to
this,in its gentleness and patient strength.'
As I went in John stretched out both
his hands.
"I knew you'd come 4 . I guess I'm
MOVID"'OrI, ma'am." •
He was, and so rapidly that even while;
he-spoke over his face I saw the gray veil
falling that tO mortal hand can lift. I
sat-down by him, wiped, the drops from;
his forehead, stirred the air about him!
with the slow wave of a fan, and waited 1
to help him die. He stood in sore need
Id help, and I could do so little; for, as
!the doctor had foretold, the strong body
!rebelled against death, and fought every
inch of the way, forcing him to drdw each
breath- with a spasm, and clench his hands
with an imploring look, as if he s askedd
"How long must I endure this and be,
stil.. For hours he suffered dumbly I
t without a moments murmuring. His
!limbs grew cold, his lips white, and again
and .again he tore the covering WI his'
!breast, as if the lightest weight added to
Ibis agony;. yet, thicugh it all, his eyes!
!never lost their perfect serenity, and the:
wan's soul seemed to sit therein, un- 1
daunted by the ills that vexed his flesh. I
One by one the men woke, aid around
the room appeared a circle of pale faces
and watchful eyes,, full of awe and' pity;
for though a stranger, John was beloved
by all. Each than there had wondered
at his patience, respected his piety, ad.
mired his fortitude, and now lamented
his hard death ; for the influence of an
upright nature had made itself deeply felt
even in one week. Presently the Jona.
than who so loved this comely David
came creeping from his. bed fur a_last look
and word. The kind soul was full of
trouble, as the choke in his vi),ie . e, the
r , rasp of his hand betrayed ; but there
*ere no tears, and the farewell of the
friends was the, more touching for its
"Old boy, how are you Y' faltered the
"Most through, thank heaven I" whir
pered the other.
"Can I say or do anything for you.
any - wheres?"
"Take my things home, and tell them
that I did thy best."
"I will! I Win :"
"Good bye, Ned."
"Good bye, John, good bye!"
They kissed each other tenderly as
women, and so parted; for poor Ned could
not stay to see his comrade die. For a
little while there was no sound in the
room but the sound of water from a stump
I or two, and John's distressful gasps as he
slowly brerthed his life away. I thought
him nearly gone, and had just laid down
the fan, believing its help to be no longer
' needed, when suddenly he rose up in his',
bed, and cried out with a bitter erg- that
broke the silence, sharply startling evervj
one with its ag.onited appeal : "For God's I
sake, give 'me air!'
It was the only er:y that pain or death,
had wrung from him, the only boon hei
asked, and none of us could grant it, fOri
all the airs that blow were useless now.
Dan flung np the window, the first red
streak bf dawn was warming the grey
east, a herald of the cominf , sun. John
saw it, and with the lore of light, which
lingers in us to the end, seemed to read
in it a sign of hope of help, for over his
whole face there broke that mysterious
expression, .brighter . than any smile,
which often ecines to eyes that look their
last. He laid himself gently down, and
stretching out his strong right-arm,- as-if
to grasp and bring the blessed.air to his
lips in fuller flow, lapsed into a merciful .
unconsciousness, which assured us that
for him suffering was forever past.
As We'stood looking at him, the ward
master handed the a letter; saying it had
been forgotten the night before. It Was
John's letter, came just an hoar to late
Rd A etl33.
to gladden the eyes that had looked and
lo.ged for it so eagerly—yet he, had it;
fo after I had cut some brown locks for
hi• mother, and taken off the ring to send
he , telling how well the talisman had
do . e its work, I kissed this good son for
be sake, and laid the letter in his hand,
sti I folded as when I drew my orin away:
'He made a few desultory remarks',"
sal the schoolmaster. Mrs. Partington
sto ped suddenly in the bustle she *as
making around the table for tea, .and
ga4ed over her specs thoughtfuly at him
Leaning on a plate edgewise, as if to en
force her views by the support it gave
b9 1 ,-"E'suppoie. it was. because
,he was
weak," said she, "but Ayer's' Pills will
mule him I never knew' em to fail.
Thby are very solitary in such. cases"
"Itleally madam," replied be, "I cannot
guess your meaning." "You said dysen
tery," said she, laying down the plate
and putting a spoon in the preserves.
"I aid desultory," said he, smiling,
"quite a different thing." "No matter,"
sai she, looking ap in time to box Ike's
car , who was putting pan'er down the
chimney of the lierosene lamb. - "The
Pills s are good for both, I dare say, for
th ry•cure almost all the diseases in the
cor e ucopia. •
G.N'T GET IN DEBT.—Debt is a per
bore. How. it haunts a man from
pil ar to post—lurking in the breakfast
up--poisoning his dinner—embittering
his teal—now it stalks from him like a
tiring akeieton, seeming to ::nnounce its
pr . d s ence by recounting the amount of
its liabilities. How . it poisons his do
(nestle joys, by introducing its "balance"
into the .calculation of Madam. respectin ,,
th price of a new carpet or dress,4How
it hinders dreamy plans for accunaula
tio s. How it hampers useless' energ.ies
ripples resolutions to good to be ful
'l-l - Ve have some German friends up
at Oalera, who in daily conversation, use
the Erwlish lanomage, but the mother
te4hes her children the same German
prayers she used 'to repeat to them in
heti childhood away back on the banks of
the Rhine. One night, as little Ernest,
a precocious chap of some four`sucumers,
was quietly Doing through his evening
devotions lie suddenly electrified and as-
tontshed'his pions mother, by: “31a, why
do iye always talk Yankee . and pra' Ger
man ? Is God a Dutchman ?"
!"lomEiHrsq, TO BE THANKFUL FOll.-
Thd hat was passed around in a certain
con,4regatian for the purpcie of taking up
a ccilection. After it had made the cir
cuit of tire church it Was handed to the
mic - Fter, who, by-the-way, had exchanged
pul4rits with the regular preacher, and he
found not a penny it. Ile inverted the
hatlover the pulpit cushion and shook it,
thati its emptiness might be known, then
raisi i nz. his eyes toward the he
exclhinied with great fervor, "I ;hank
Godi,thatll got back my bat from this]
con regation."
I STUPID CRATER.—The bead of a
,e, for several days after its separation
the body, retains and exhibits ani
ife arid sensation. An Irishman had
'itated one, and some days afterwards
musing himself by putting sticks in
outhl which it bit with violence.' :A.
who saw the proceeding, exclaimed
;Vhy, Patrick, I thought the turtle
read 1" "So he is, .ma'am; but the
I r.'s not sensible
was '
its J
A. young, lady in Richmond, writ
tO her friends in Baltimore, says that
The gayeties of society' in that city consist
chiefly of What are caller(' "starvaton par
ties,l at which people meet in each others
houses, and have music and dancing, but
nothin‘ , v' toi eat or drink. She ;avers that
they Ihave l a good deal of fun, andi no
Supp r.
ry:A.l"isecaint S. once wet M. de V ,
and said to him : '•ls it true, sir. that hi
a kuise where I am . thOught to be witty,
you said I lid no wit at all 7" 31. de l'.
answered.: "3ly lord, there is not a word,
of troth in the matter. I never was in a
Wheie you were thought to be'
witty and I never had occasion to tell 4
auybcidy you had no wit at all." •
WO AN THE TRUE TEAcilEu.--She has
a lamer heart, a finer brain, and a more
delieae•mitscle and nerve than man, and
hence' eh .s most eminently qoalifted to
shape tbeintellectual, moral, 'and spirit.
oat world. A high cultivated woniati in
God'si antidote for sin and suffering.
ml-"S'am, did von see th i - new over
seer?' "Yes, masstij meet him down
by th cotton-gin." "He's a good-loo
ing felloW, isn't he 7". "Well, massa, he
talks like a [good looking man; ; he made
a bow, dat'a all he seid."
SEr"Sainho, where is you master?"
"Gone out." "Hai he left off, drinking,
yet "Oki, yes, sari. I he leave off two,
tree tiknes tlie-morniti." - - •
TERMS.--$1.50 PER Ali
A G.lmr.. rota LITTLE For ics.-:4he
merieun Agriculturist: thus deserities
;came that / used to afford "us -children "
much mirth : • '
1 . One of the 'party being provide with .
elate ' and end pencil, calls on each Cif ;the
othcri in
to name some deseriitive
adjective, good, pretty, :long,
!short, set. These are Written iii s col
emu at the left of the slate. •The 4ritee
!then places his pencil opohite one of the
words, and ea 11.4 fot the name ef ciime of
the party,- which being given, is wiitten
next to the adjective; and theil the
!names of the whole companv are iiitten
lin torn, , each lopposite the' adjective
whinh comes
in ,order an the
Tlit writer vow commences same
other part of the: list, and each iciatijany
;natueslsome locality, as "on the house,"
"under the barn," " in the woods," , :ete.;
;and these are added, one to each . n ame.
In the', same manner some hot is ne4 Writ;
ten, to Complete the sentences, as." haul
i ing saw-logs," "sleeping soundly,"
ling Ora," etc. When all completed;
the sgotence are read aloud. The . ludi:
mils:situation described will often cause
great merriment. Thus it May kapperi
, that "Sweet Susan was before the look :
ing-glass, making faces;" or that " Slow
IJohn was on the railruad, Tuning a race
with the 'engine;" or that "Long John.
was hunting the rebels, in the wash tub."
!Of course, much fun will depend on
keeping the sentences secret till all are
friend relates to us the folloirihg intnaing .
and ibstructive , in - cid:mt. 'Scene lin the
road, so'newhere in Chatham:
Dramatis Personae=nan on wagon!-
Man afoot, carrying a Jug. .
MAN ON WAdON. "MHO, friend;l
won't you ride ?"
MAN WITH JUG. "Weil, guess ti t ;
,you send to hare load enough. Lidthe
road is • rough. Don't care if I i sat my
jng the wagon, thongh."
MAN os WaGuN. ^"Werkido.”
Man with jug puts the same in the
wag On. Man on wagon asks:
„ What ycia got in the jug?”
"Kerosene oil," says the other. •'
Kerosene Ott. goic sari
rnan with wagon "that Gov. tlartin hay
rais64l the price of Kerosene sud,
idenlY from 40 to 80 bents a gallon.".
"Guess you mast be a Coptidrtead,"
says man with the jug, "for no Sensible;
loyal Men, would ask so silly a question."
"And you are an ab - Olitionist;", say 4
man wi;li the wagon—"con iotid . the
black iepublican ticket, and kiron'iCarry
your jug another. rod." SO oat- iteut
Mr Jug:
-Wonder if man with the wacion Way
one of the i twenty-two diet joined the
Democratic club in Chatttatu on one
night ?
z"- - -"Parig the slavery questiOill Ptrt
!disgustede with` it. Let us ignore and
!put dowti the Hearkeni oh;
Solomon, to your brother, wlio is even
now running through the streets yelling
at l the top of his voice': - "My house is
buirding up! Don't notice the fire, 61 all,
for I'm disgusted with it= ' Let tali 71`jitorn
the fire and put out the congdi . tgrattiiti l'"
NVe can ignore the Ere and eitin4:tiiih
the flames just as easily as we eat; ifiiioru
slavery ;and put down' the refiedion;
Why the rebellion is to slavery what
1s:to consumption; only its
mate manifestation. We cannot
the Slavery question . ; we must eithei 'set
tle it, or lit will settlebs most effeCtiilll . l;
forever.--LlVizaTiville Union.
The buxom, b - right-eyed, full tire . 4 - tell
bouncing lass—who can darn a steoking,
mend trousers, make her own frock, 'coat
wand a regiment of pots and kettle:; reed
the pigs, milk the •cows, and be iI !ady
withal inlcouipany—is just ihe sOg. Of a
girkfor alyoung man to marry: biiiyou,
ye pinimsk, -lolling, screwed up,
waisted, 'doll-dreSsed, putty faced, corr. \
sumption- t inortgaged, music-mu
norel-devourinfr ilaughters of fasliiii; arid
idleness--you are no more fit for ritiltii
monir than a pullet is,to look rifler a
family of fourteen chickens.;
Lady was once deehuiii?;..
she did not .understand bow academe')
could stuohe.- It Certainly Shorted;
lives," , said she. "I didn't kni)W
exclaimed: a gentleman c "ibei:e"2l
. auy
!father whin sua& kes every blessed (LI; and
he's now ',eventy years old."
was the reply, "if he had nerCi inaed
I he might nave been eighty."
re-When you go. Co _grasp
with baste around the Waiii; a r ed..huz
aer' tibit to thee; and 'lay
"Do go away—ao, Won't ion let ate be
'then, 0, what bliss ! but never tat.s
good a chance - as that; then make:.a dash,
as quick as i flash, and--Georgie bald Fiy
The man; who stands undr thy!' thi- -
lows, abonti to be swung et
have "the lest tic'-' severed. -