Dtftforft 3nqnivcr ani) Clirouirtc.
BY DAYID OYER.
A FEW SHORT YEARS—AND THEN!
A few short years—and then
The dream of life will be
Like shadows of a morning cloud,
in its reality!
A few short years—and then
The idol# loved the best
Will pass in all their pride away,
As sinks the sun to rest!
A few short years—and then
Our young hearts may be reft
Of ev'ry hope, and find no gleam
Of childhood's sunshine left!
A few short years—and then
Impatient of its bliss,
The weary soul shall seek on bigb
A better home than this!
HAGAR TO HER CHILD.
BY N. P. WILLIS.
• God stay thee in thine agony, my boy;
1 cannot see thee die; I can not brook
Upon thy brow to lock,
And see death settle on my cradle joy.
How have I drunk the light of thy blue eyes !
And could I see thee die t
'•I did not dream of this, when thou wast strid
ing.
Like an unbound gazelle; au\)ng the flowers;
Or wearing rosy hours,
By the rich gush of water-sources playing.
T nen iinking weary to thy smiling sleep,
So beautiful and deep.
"Oh no! and when I watched by thee the while
And saw thy bright lip curling in thy dream,
And thought of tbe dark stream
Iu tny own land ot Egypt, the far Mile,
llow prayed 1 tluit my lather's laud might be
A heritage for thee!
And now the grave for its cold breast hath w u n
thee
Aud thy white, delicate limbs the earth will
press;
And O! my last caress
Mrtst foci the cold, for a chill hand i* on theo.
How can I leave my boy so pillowed there
Upon his clustering hair!"
THE HEART'S RIESTS.
When age has cast its shadows
O'er life's declining way.
And the evening twilight gathers
Round our departing day—
Then we shall sit and ponder
On the dim and shadowy past;
Within the heart's still chambers
The guests will gather fast.
The friends in youth we cherished
.Shall come to us once more,
Again to hold communion
As in the days ofyorc.
They may be stern and sombre;
They may be young and fair,
But the heart will have its chambers:
The guests shall gather there,
ilowahall it I#,my sisters?
Who, then, shall be our guests?
How shall it be, my brother*,
When life's shadows on us rest.
Shall we not, midst the silence,
In accents soft and low,
Then hear familiar voices,
And words of long ago?
Shall we not see dear faces,
Sweet smilling as of old?
Till the mists of that still chamber
Are sunset clouds of gold?
When age has cast its shadows
O'er life's declining way,
And the evening twilight gathers
Hound oor departing day?
How an irishman Conrerted a Jew.
A 'rale hard sinner," a native of the
Emerald Isle, went to confession the other
day, to his parish priest, and so shocked
the Clergyman witli the recital of his sins,
;that he exclaimed—'My son, did you ever
• ■do a good deed in your life ?' 'I did,' said
pat, 'I converted a Jew once.' 'llow was
that l ' inquired the confessor. 'You see,'
.said Pat, 'that lung uoosed-pork-atmg tuur
thcring blagard fell overboard, and A put
after bis carcass in a bote. 1 seized him
.by the top knot just as he was going down
the eeennd time, and pulled bis bead above
the surface, and says if I save you will you
be a cht istiau?
'I wont says he be; and with that 1 de
posit* Lis head about three feet uuther
agiiu; pulied him once more, and put the
question anew—will you be a christian ? to
which he again replied 'No,' gruffly. I
gave him another dip and brought him up
puffing like a porpose. Will you be a
Pbnstiau now? 'Y-e-s,' says he, and his
teeth were chattering for all the world like
a monkey that bad burned bis toes. Well,
ays 1 you ate now coorerted, and you bet
ter die in faitb, and so saying, I held him
uuther until his spirit had departed.'
LANR FRANKLIN still looks p Dr. KANE
to lead another expedition to ilw Artie re
gions in search of any traces which may ex
ist of her lamented husband and bis com
panions; and she has written a letter to Mr.
Henry Grinnel, of New York, expressing a
a desire that Br. Kauc should visit Eng
iauil to UI;FKQ the uecesnry preparations.
A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Polities, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., &c—Terms: Two Dollars per annum.
THE CRIMINAL WIT A ESS,
OR
The Providential Mail Robbery.
A LAW TEU'S STORY.
In the spring of 1848 I was called to
Jackson, Alabama, to attend Court having
been engaged to defend a young man who
had been accused of robbing the mail.—
I arrived early in the morning, and im
mediately had a long conference with m v
client.
The stolen mail bag had been recovered,
as well as the letters from which the money
had been rifled.. These letters were given
to me for examination, and I then returned
them to the prosecuting attorney,
Having got through my private prelim
inaries about noon, and as the case would
not come off before tbe next day, I went
into the court in the afternoon to see what
was going on.
The first case that came up was one of
theft, and the prisoner was a yonnggirl, not
more than seventeen years of age, named
Elizabeth Madworth. She wa.i very pretty,
and bore that mild and innocent look, which
we so seldom fiud in a culprit. She was
pale and frightened and the moment my eye
rested upon her, I pitied her. She had
been weeping profusely, but as she found so
many eyes upou her she became too much
fiightened to weep more.
The complaint against her set forth that
she had stolen one hundred dollars from a
Mrs. Naseby ; and as the case went on I
found that this Mrs. Naseby, a wealthy
widow living in the town, was the girl's mis
tress.
The poor girl declared her innocence in
the most wild terms, but circumstances were
hard against her. A buudred dollars in
bank notes bad been stolen from her mis
tress' room, and sbe was the ODly one who
had access there.
At the juncture, when the mistress was
upou the witness stand a young maD came
and caught me by the arm. He was a fiue
looking man, and big tears stood in his
eyes.
'They tell mcyou area good lawyer,' he
whispered.
'I am a lawyer,' I answered.
'Xh3n do save her ' You can certainly
do it, for she is innocent.'
'ls she your sister?'
'No, sir ; but, but—
Here he hesitated, bat I understood him.
'liasshe no counsel ?' I asked.
i
'None that's good for anythiug—nobody
that will do anything for her O, save her
and I'll pay you all I've got. I can't
give you much, but 1 can raise something.'
I reflected a moment. I cast my eyes
towards the prisouer, and she was at that
moment looking at me. She caught my
eye, and the volume of humblo entreaty 1
read in her glauce, resolved me in a mo
ment.
I aroe and went to the girl, and asked if
she wished me to defend her. She said yes.
Then I informed the court that I was ready
to enter into the case, and I was admitted at
once. The loud murmur of satisfaction
which ran quickly through the room told
me where the sympathies of the
were.
I asked for a moment's cessation, that
I might speak with my client. I went a.id
sat down and asked her to state candidly
the whole case. She told me she had lived
with Mrs. Naseby nearly two years, aud bad
any trouble before. About two weeks ago*
she said, her mistress lost a hundred dol
lars.
'She missed it from her drawer,' the girl
said to me, 'and she asked n>e about if, but
I knew nothing about it. The next thing I 1
knew, Nancy Luther told Mr*. Naseby that
she saw :ne take the money from her drawer
—that she watched me through the key
hole. Then they went to my trunk and
found twenty-five dollars of the missing
money there. Bat, sir, I never took it—
and somebody else must have put it there.
I asked her weather she suspected an)'
one.
•I dun't know,' she said, 'who could have
done it but Nancy. She has never liked
me, because she thought I was treated bet
ter thau she was. She is the cook. I wa B
the chambermaid.'
She pointed Nancy Luther out to me.—
Sho was a stout, bold-faced girl, somewhere
about five and twenty years old, with a low
forehead, small grey eyes, a pug nose and
thick lips. I caught her glance once, as it
rested on the fair young prisoner, and the
moment 1 detected the look of hatred whioh
I read there, I was convinced that she was
the rogue that committed the theft.
'Nancy Luther did you say that girl's
name was?" I asked, for a new light bad
broken in upon me.
Off*, sir.'
•Is there any other girl of that name about
here'?'
♦No, air.'
♦Then rest easy. I will clear you, if all
goes right.
I left the court room, and went to tb e
prosecuting attorney and asked him for the
letters I hae had handed him—the ones that
had been stolen from the mail bag. He
gave them to me, and having selected one, 1
returned the rest, and told him 1 would see
that he had the one I kept before night. I
then returned to the court room, and the case
went on.
Mrs. Naseby resumed her testimony.—
She said she entrusted the room to the
prisoner's carc, and that no one else had
access there save herself. Then she de
scribed about missing the money, and clos
ed by telling how she found twenty-five
dollars of it in the prisoner's trunk- She
could swear it was tbe identical money she
had lost, in two tens and oue five dollar
DOtP.
'Mrs. Naseby,' said I, 'when you first
missed the money, had you auy reason to
believe that the prisoner had taken it?'
'No, sir.'
♦Had you ever before detected her in any
dishonesty ?'
'No, sir.'
Mrs. Naseby left the stand, and Nancy
took her piace. She came up with a bold
look, and upon me she cast a defiant
glance, as much as to say "trap me if you
can."
Nancy gave her evidence, in effect, as fol
lows :
She said that, on the night when the mon
ey was stolen, she saw the prisoner going up
stairs, and from the sly manner in which
she went up she suspected all was not right.
So sbo followed her up. "Elizabeth went
into Mrs. Naseby's room and shut the door
after her. 1 stooped down and looked
through the keyhole, and saw her take out
the money and put it it: her pocket. Then
she stooped down and picked up the lamp,
and as I saw that she was comming out, 1
hurried away.' Then sbe went on and told
how she had informed her mistress of this,
and how she proposed to search the girl's
trunk.
I called Mrs. Naseby back to the stand.
♦You say that no one, save yourself and
the prisoner, had access to your rooms,' I
said- 'Now could Nancy Luther have en
tered the room if she wished ?'
'Certainly, sir. 1 mean no one else haj
any right there.'
I saw that Mrs. Naseby, though naturally
a hard woman, was moved by poor Eliza,
beth's miser}-.
'Could ycur cook have known, by any
means in your knowledge, where your mon
ey was ?*
'Yes, sir: for she often came up to my
room when I was there and I have given her
mcucy with which to buy provisions o*
market men, who happened to go along with
their wagons.
♦One mjre question : have you knowr.
the prisoner having used any money since
this was stolen ?'
'No, sir.'
I now called Nancy Luther back, and
she began to tremble a little, though her
look was as bold and defiant as ever.
'Miss Luther,' I said, 'why did you not
;nform your mistress at once, of what you
had seen, without waiting for her to ask about
the lost money ?'
'Because, 1 could not make up my mind
to expose the poor girl,' sbc replied prompt
ly-
' You say you looked through the key
hole, and saw the prisoner take the mon.
cy?'
'Yes, sir.'
'VVhere did she place the lamp when she
did so ?'
♦On the bureau.'
'ln your testimony you said she stooped
down when she picked it up. What did
you mean by that ?'
The girl hesitated, and finally said she
didn't moan anything, only that she picked
up the lamp.
♦Very well,' said I. 'How long have you
been with Mrs. Naseby ?'
•Not quite a #ear.'
How much does she pay you a week ?'
♦A dollar and throe quarters.'
•Have you taken up any of your pay since
you have been there?'
'Yes, sir.'
'How much *'
•I don't know, sir.'
♦Why don't you know ?'
'How should I ? I've taken it at differ
ent times, just as I wanted it, and have kept
no account.'
'Now, if you had any wish to harm the
prisoner, could you have raised twenty-five
dollars to put in hef trunk ?'
'No, sir,' 6he replied, with virtuous in
dignation.
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, JUNE 6.1856.
♦Then you have not laid up any money
since you have been there?'
'No, sir—only what Mrs. Naseby now
owes me?'
♦Then you didn't have any twenty-five
dollars when you came there 1 '
'No, sir, and what's more, the money
found in the girl's trunk was the very mon
ey that Mrs. Naseby lost. Yon might have
known that if you'd ODly remember wha 1
you bear.'
This was said very sarcastically, and was
intended as a crusher upon the idea that
she put the mouey in the prisoner's trunk.
However, 1 was not overcome entire
ly.
♦Will you tell me if you belong to this
State?' I asked next.
'I do, sir.'
♦ln what town 1 '
She hesitated, and for a moment the bold
look forsook her. But she finally an
swered:
♦I belong to Sorners, Montgomery coun
ty.'
I next turned to Mrs. Naseby.
'Do yon ever take a reeeipt from your
girls when you pa}- tbrmF
♦Always.'
'Can you send and get one of them for
mc.'
♦She has told tlte truth about my pay
ments.'
'O. I don't doubt it, 1 I replied, 'but oc
cular proof is the thing for the court room.
So if you can, I wish you would procure me
the receipt.,
'I will do it willingly, if the court says
so.'
The court did say so. and she went.
Her dwelling was not far off, and she
soon returned, and handed me four receipts,
which 1 took and examined. They were all
signed in a strange, stragling hand by the
witness.'
•Now, Nancy Luther,' I said, turning to
the prisoner, aud speaking in a quick, start
ling tone, at the same tstne looking her
sternly in the eyes, "please tell the court
and the jury, and tell me, too, where yon
got the seventy-five dollars you scDt in your
letter to your sister in Somers?'
The witness started, ns though n volcano
had Wst at her feet. She turned pale as
death, and every Jinib shook violently. 1
waited until the people,could see her emo
tions, and then 1 repeated the question
'l—never—sent—any,' gasped Nancy.
'You did " I thundered, for I was excited
now.
I—l didn't,' she faintly uttered, gras
ping at the railing by her side for sup
port.
'May it please your honor and gentlemen
of the jury,' I said, as soon as I had looked
the witness out of countenance, 'I came
here to defend a man who has been arrested
for robbing the mail, and in the course of
my preliminary examinations, I had access
to the letters which had been torn open and
robbed of money. When I entered upon
this case, and heard the name of this wit
ness pronounced, 1 went out and got this
letter which I now hold, for I remembered
to have seen one bearing the name of Nan
cy Luther. This letter was taken from
the mail bag, and it contained seventy-five
dollars, and by looking at the post mark,
you will observe that it was mailed on th e
very day after the hundred dollars were ta
ken from Mrs. N'aseby's drawer. 1 will
read it to you if you please.'
The court nodded assent, and 1 read the
following, which was without date, save that
made by the post master on the outside.—
1 give it verbatim:
Sister Dorcas—l cend yu beer sevente
five doleis which I want yu to kepe for me
til I come horn I cant kepe it heer cor I am
afraid it will git stole. Dont speke wun
word tu a liven sole about this cor 1 dont
want nobadc to kno I hev got enny money.
T am fust rate hcer ony that good fur nuth
in snip of liz madworth is here yit—but I
hope tu git rid of her now. Giv my luv tu
all imjuirin frens. This is from your sis
ter
til deth NANCV LI THEII.'
'Now, your tioncr,' I said, as I handed
him the letter and receipts, ''you will see
that the letter is directed to Dorcas Luther
Somers, Montgomery County. And you
will also observe that one hand wrote that
letter and signed these receipts. The jury
will also observe. And now 1 will only
add: It is plain to see how the hundred dol
lors were disposed off. ScveuUrfive dol
lars were sent off for safe keefnng, while
he remaining twenty -five were placed in
the prisoners trunk for the purpose of cov
ering the real criminal. Of the tone of the
other parts <?f the letter, 1 leave you to
judge. And now, gentlcmeu, I leave my
client's case in your hauds.'
The case was giveu to the jury immedi
ately following their examination of the let
ter. They had heard from the witness' own
mouth that sbc had no money of her own
and without leaving their seats, they return
ed a verdict of "NOT GUILTY."
I will not attempt to describe thq scene
that followed: but if Nancy Luther had not
been immediately arrested for tbeft, she i
would have been obliged to seek the pro
tection of the officers, or the excited people
would have maimed her, at least, if they
had done no more.
On the next morning, I received a note
very handsomely written, in which I was
told that "the within" was only a slight I
token of the gratitude due mc for iuy ef
forts in behalf of a poor defenceless maid
en. It was signed "Several Citizens/' and
contained one hundred dollars.
Shortly afterwards, the yoath who had
first begged me to take the case, called |
npon me with all the money he could raise,
but I showed him that I was already paid,
and refused to take his hard earnings.
Before I left town I was a guest at his
wedding—my fair client being the happy
bride*
Nancy Luther was tried, convicted and
sent to the penitentiary, where she is now
undergoing the puuishment which she in
tended for my fair client. Who pities
her?
I Thus, by a mail robbery, an innocent
maiden was saved from the jaws of ruin, for
with the evidence so strong against her, the
jury conld not give any other verdict than
"Guilty."
I have always looked uj>on this as a spe
cial providence to save an innocent girl,
and bring the real criminal to justice.
My client charged with robbing tbe mail
was also acquitted, notwithstanding the set
tled convictiou in the mind of the com
munity that ht was not "above suspic
| ion."
I left Jackson a happier anu a richer
man, for I went there fearing that my cli
ent would be convicted, and 1 would be un
| paid.
Translnthms f fhe BiWe.
The first translation of tbe Bible into
: Eoglish was made by John Wvckliffe. lie
| translated from the Latin Bibles then in
i use. The Translation was made some time
j before the year 1384, as Wvckliffe died iu
| that year. Tin* translation was never priot
> ed, but there are several M$S. of it iu.
j England.
Iu tbe year 1527, William Ttudal, a
Welshman, first printed the New Testament
at Antwerp. This translation was not
made as former ones bad been, from the
Latin vulgate, but from the Greek original.
In 1586 the whole Bible was translated
by Myles Coverdale, published in folio, and
dedicated to Henry VIII.
In 1587 Mathews' Bible, as it is called,
was printed with the king's license, of which
there was another edition iu 1551. Math
ews is certainly u ficticious name, as John
Rogers was the translator. In Quecu
Mary's reign he was burnt for printing this
very Bible.
In the year 1539 Mathews' Bible was
published, with alterations and corrections,
in a large folio, printed by Grafton, which
was also called C'ranmcr's, or the Great
Bible.
The next revision and publication of the
Bible was made under the care and direc
tion of Archbishop Parker. And as sev
eral Bishop.- were eutpoloycd in it, it is
sometimes called the Bishops' Bible. This
was piinted iu 1653.
The Kngiish Roman Catholics, in 1582,
made a translation of the New Testament,'
in English, from what they call the authen
tieal Latin—meaning the vulgate—and be
cause it was printed at libeims it is usually
called the Rheimish Bible. And in 1609
they also priuted the Old Testament, at
Donay, called the Donay Bible.
In the reign of James I. a new, complete
and more accurate translation of all the
Holy Scriptures was made by fifty-four learn,
ed men, appointed by royal authority, and
was printed in folio in 1611. •
This last is as true and good a version as
we can have, and wo .shall not want another
till length of time and change of language
shall render it obscure and unintelligible.
ANTIDOTE FOR POISONS.—A correspon
dent of the London Literary Gazette, allud
ing to the numerous cases of deaths from
accidental poisoning, adds : "I venture to
affirm there scarce even a cottage in this
country that does not contain an invaluable,
immediate remedy for such events,
nothing niofe than a desert spoonful of
made mustard, mixed in a tumbler of warm
water and drank immediately. It acta 8
an erne tic, is always ready, and may he used
with safety in any case whore one is requir
ed. By making this simple antidote known
yon may be the means of saving many a fol
low creature frotu an untimely end."
NEW CURIOSITIES OF LITERA
TURE.
Divers of our readers have taken offense
at the plain garb in which many of the En
glish proverbs have been so long Btti.-ed.
We therefore dress them in a light gar
ment of our own, suitable to eyes of fash
ion and the fastidious refinement of all in
whose mouth butter would not melt, and
who ♦'look as though they could not say boo
to a goose." To begin at the beginning.
Feathered bipeds of similar plumage will
lire gregariously 1
That which is engendered in tbe osseous
portion of tbe frame will never be extracted
from its carnal covering!
Those the illumining appertnrcs of whose
messuages are vitrified, should never pro
ject fragments of granite.
Tho capital of the Papal States was not
constructed in the diurnal revolution of tbe
globe.
Experienced waYblers are rarely made
prisoners by the busks of grain.
An abrupt inclination of the head is
equivalent to the sudden closing of the eye
to a recer laboring under a cataract.
It is a sage infant who is intimately ac
' quainted with his own parental reia
| live.
The lufernal being is not so sable as lim
ners have represented Lini.
No ablution will convert an African into
an Albino.
In the abscence of the miniature tiger i
tbe muscipular race will become festive. i
Do not calculate tbe number of yocr ju- 1
venile poultry, before the process of iucu- j
: bation be completed.
In what a prodigious condicular ap- '
pendage our domestic Grimalkin rejoi- i
! ceth.
j Give some men a small island, and they
\ will take a liquid letter.
One fleecy animal cautancously infected
will spread eontageon through the courser
kind of mill puff.
Do not exclaim vociferously till you hav#
" past beyond tbe forest.
Let every person pursue the bent of his
own geuius, as the elderly maiden ob
! served when saluting her vaccine favor
i . •
i ite
An equestrian mendicant will journey
toward the rea In.s cf his Satanic majes
ty-
Too great a number of culinary assis
tants may impair the flavor of the conx-jwn
tee.
A pebble in a state of circumvolution
acquires not the lichens of mural vegeta
tiou!
llovalty may be contemplated with impu
nity even by a feline quadruped.
How lo Dispose ol' Old Stock.
A peddler of tin ware, who had been
traveling from plantation to plantation with
bis cargo of 'notions,' found but a limited
.sale for bis lanterns, an aaticle of which he
bad a very large stock. In despair of get.
ting rid of tbcai be offered them at what h p
called 'a very reduced-price,' ret he found
purchasers as scarce as clover in sand hills.
At length a tavern keeper directed him to
a farmer, who, he said was very uiueh in
want of the article. To the house of this
ready customer went Jonathan, determined
to get bis troubles worth out of him. The
first person lie met was the overseer, who
was louugingby the side of the road.
'You dgn't want to buy a lautern, do ye?'
askel Jonathan.
'Yes, though, I reckon 1 do,' returned
the overseor, 'how much meiight you ask for
one? '
♦Only 37 i cents.'
'Well, suppose you giu iue one.'
The pedler accordingly gave him a lan. 1
tern, and receiving hi- money, proceeded 1
onwards.
'You don't want to buy a first rate lan
tern. do ye?' said he to tire overseer's wife,
who was washing in the spring.
'Yes,' was the reply, 'Mr. 13. has been
wantiug one this long while.'
Jonathan accordingly served her out one
at the same pi ice he had bargained with
her husbaud for. At the barn, before he
reached the farm house, he tnet the son of
the planter —
'You dou't want to buy do
| you?'
'I don't want one uiyself, but I'll take
j one for father, who has been after one this
long while.'
Jonathan accordingly pocketed another
thirty-seven aud a half cents, and became
one lantern lighter.
110 now advanced boldly up to the Louse, J
and meeting the old ladv at the door, itn- ,
'aadiately put the question to her—'You .
dou't want to buy any first rate lanterns do
you?'
'lndeed, but.l do,' sasd the old lady, 'uiy
husband lias beeu wauling qne these sis
months past—and I am glad you have couie.
VOL. 29, NO 23.
Jonathan accordingly deposited a lan
tern with bet, and received in return anoth
er thirty-seven and a halt cents.
He now ceparted, almost satisfied with
the spec he Lad made. At some distance
from the house, in a field by the side of the
road, he espied the old gentleman himself,
and hailed him with the old question :
♦Tou don't want to buy a first rate lantern
do you?'
♦How much do yon ask a piece,' inquired
the planter.
♦Fifty cents, and I guess that's cheap
enough, considerin they've corneal! the way
from Connecticut.''
♦Well, I'll take one,' said tbe old gentle
man.
'Hadn't you better take a half a dozen?'
asked Jonathan, "there's no knowing when
a tin merchant may pass this way again. If
yon will take a half a dozen, I will let
you have theui for thirty-seven and half
cents a piece.
The planter took him at his word —and
the pedler took to his route, after having
disposed of ten lanterns where only one was
really required. ** *
SORROWFCL JESTS. —A young lady asked
a gentleman the meaning of tbe word 'sur
rogate.'
He replied—
"A -gate' through which parties have to
past on their way to get mameJ."
"I presume it is, theo, & corruption of tho
j word 'sorrow-gate.' "
Tbe informant replied—
"\ou are right, my dear, as 'women' is
: an ahbreviotion of 'wo' to 'man.'" •
Oca FLAG. —Sonve papers, with wba'
motive we knew not, have lately asserted
that the flag of our country is usually made
of foreign bunting. The .National Intelli
gencer has good reason to doubt the state
ment and says:—
"Hunting, as good and as beautiful, at
least, a* any of foreign fabric,- is made lit
Massachusetts, if not elsewhere. The largo
and splendid flag which is unfurled at our
City Hall on public occasions, was made at
the Massachuseßs factory,aud- is a pr-cscut
from the company.'"
CAS T TOO THROW A UNUE o' M VT IS ? CAB
you take off my baird here said a grave, tall,
slab-sided Yankee 1o an Albany barber, fee'ing
at the s line time his chin, with a noise like a
grater, "It's a light baird j what ff'jer tax'
Three cents for a light baird, a ink it I"
'Yes.'
'•Waal, g > ahead, then."
While ilie tarber was rasping three cents
worth t'roni hi 3 chin his 'sitUr' saw an sistant
putting cologne upon a customer's bair, through
a quill in the cork of a battle.
"Lm.k a' here Squire,' said the Funkee,'can't
you squill some o' that peppersassou iny had
tew ? Say cau' t you throw a little of that in fr
' the three cents /"
A DUTCHMAN'S DEFENCE FOU BIOAMT.
—'You sly,' said the judge, that the squire
who married you the first wife, authorised
you to take sixteen ? What do you mean by
that ?'
'Well,' said ITaus, he told ise that T
should half four potte-, four worspr, four
richer, four boorer—and in my country. four
ahues four always make sixteen."
Too BAD—LLEALI-r. —The rose of Flor
ida. the most beautiful of flowers, emits no
fragrauce, the bird of parudice. the most
beautiful of birds, gives no song; the
cypress of Greece, the finest of trees, yields
no fruit; dandies, the shiniest of men, have
no s. use; and bail-room belles, the lovHeet
of created creatures, are very often ditto—
and a little more s--!
We cut the following advertisement frotn
a paper published iu the far West;—
•'To rent a house in Melville avenue.lo
j Cation immediately alongside of a Sua plum
| garden from which an abundant supply may
jbe stolen daring the season, lteut low, and
greater part taken in plums.
A friend seuds us the following 'Epitaph
on a Liar,' which he proposes to inscribe
upon his own tombstone ■
'Good stranger, pause —I bear thy stop.
And feel thy burning tear,
! For one who lied through all his life,-
5 And now is lying here.'
AQi aiiKKt-lMPEsnivo- —A distinguished Jtn
flem.iu. wh->*e n-WW and chin vvor.- both very
! )ong and who had lost his teeth, wiwrvhy the
i nose and. chin were brdugbt neaf together, was
! told '1 iim afraid your nose and chin will light
' e r e long, they approach each other very myea
! cir.gly.' 'lam afraid of it myself, for a (treat
; many words lisvc passf-d between them already,
' replied the gentleman.
We hoccr the chivalrous dcfcrence paid
to woman. It (.vin es not only respect to
virtue, and Ucsire after pure efifectKMi, b...
that our wo-oirn are wormy of such respect.
But worrcu were not made ujcrtlj to win
men into theirTo be companions,
thev 4iW}id ho fitic-i to be to rule
hearts, they shenld secure the approbation
of uiiuds.