BY DAVID OVER.
AX EIOAXST MAX.
! care not if a ranu has wealth,
bikeCrmsus. famed of old ;
I'ii - wealth ni land, the wealth ©l'ships,
(.!' !v-.or of gold ;
rnongii fortune claims hirn for her own,
Success attend cacti plan ;
i! 's nt ihe noiilest work of God,
['ideas—i.n honest ttiau.
1 ire not if a man is wise,
Like Solomon of old;
(it i! for wit, or eloquence,
Or learning, he's extolled '; [teach
. a ugh he should know all nu-u could
Shier first this world began.
[it 's -lot the noblest work of God,
I'nles.s—an honest tnan.
1 cape not if to suffering poor
A man bis aid extends,
And gives the homeless and oppressed
The warmest truest friends.
And though, degraded, he may strive
To raise them all he can.
He's not tho noblest work of (rod
L"nless—an honest man.
I
A man may gain his worldly wealth
(iainct laws of man and God;
A viilriu may seek learning's store
To hear mankind applaud;
\ man of crime, tor pardon's sake,
May do what good ho can;
No one can IK* the noblest work
I nless—an honest man.
' *he who gives each than his due,
U'i.iitH) past claims will slight,
h : .'.way acts in everything,
\ conscience says is right,
Who tr--,-its each one with whom he deals
As fitiriy as he CA.\;
(1.- ii the noblest work of God—-
i- an honest uian.
oi;i aitLsmaOi).
in n. l). I-KK.VTICK.
"f is sad—ye: • —to listen.
I'o the soft wind's gentle swell,
And thin!; we hear the music
Our childhood knew so well ;
To g .ze out < the even,
Ami the boundless fields of air,
And lit l again our boyhood wish
a * ronlc like angola there !
There are many dreams of gladness
That eliiig around the past--
And 'r "in tie: tooth of feeling
Old though ■- come thronging last -
The forms We ioved so dearly,
lit 'he happy <1 ivs now gone.
Tin- beautiful and lovely,
So fair to look cpon.
Those bright and lovely maidens
\V ho s cm- i so (armed lor bliss,
Too glorious and heavenly
For such a world as this!
Whose oft dark eyes see nei swim rning
in as .of liquid light,
A '1 rhouc locks of gold were s.ri-itnirig
ON r '..rows so sunny bright.
WiiL.se oniies were like the sunshine i
hi rhe spiingtime of the year—
-1" t: changeful (fiance of April
T!io> followed ever; tear!
'fl.ey l ave passed—like hope—sway—
All tl.ci. livci uss has tied —
<JI. ! tiiauy a I ■ ail IS mourning
Thai th.-y are -v ith the dead.
Uke the In ulit buds of Summer
i"e • have fallen from the stem
'i - t oh ' it is a lovely death I
iii lade ir it! earth like thorn '
And • . ; —tl • It., ugl.t is saddening
! i. mi.-E TIT. Mich as they—
And iV-el that all re beautiful
Are passing fast away !
. h <t the fair ones whom we love.
Grow to each loving breast,
Like tendrils of the clinging vine,
Then parish where they rest.
And can we hut think of thes ;
In flie soft and gentle spring,
V lictt the trees arc waving o'or us,
Ali i toe flowr* are blossoming!
F-..r we know that winter's coming
U ith Ids cold and stormy suv—
And the glorious beauty i >und us
l> blooming but to die !
K inted n't heir jor §IOO,OOO. —The fol
lowing curious advertisement appears in the
New ( Means P iriyunc of a late date.
W anted, by a person who has one huii
■ icj thousand dollars and no Ljeir, to adopt
troin birth, a child. It must be of Ameri
can parents, and from otie hour to ten days
1 ;d, sex immaterial.-—Any person having
u child they wish to dispose of, can thus
i cube it a good bom • and a fortune; or
••• i\ lady about to bed-ate a mother and
iliug to part *i:b her child, can have a
tepcctaKlo physician to attend her and no
'ffstion.* asked or answered. Applications
burst be made in ten 'lays. Address 4, A,'
througu the Post Office, or the Picayune
Office
I i". I r'.t? of Leather. —The value of
boots and sh"os manufactured in Marsaebu
setts daring the year 1515 is estimated at
thirty -nine thousand nine hundred and
twenty three dollars.
r At Mobile they had ripe applet) on
Una of Mav,
A Aee...y Paper, Devoted to Literature, Polities, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., ftc —Terras:' Two Dollars per annum.
THE DACOTAH'S CAPTIVE.
A Tale of the lowa Lead Mines.
Br BEX PERLEY POOItK.
W liile the Spanish colonists ravaged the
southern portion of North America in quest
of gold, aDtl the English planted the germs
of self-government on tho eastern coast, the
French were hut the agents of home mer
chants, who enjoyed a monopoly of the vari
ous traffics, and were sustained in the en
joyment of it by the strong arm of milita
ry power. To the trading association in
particular, we owe the discovery of the Mis
sissippi, by the sou of one of the members
—the intrepid La Salle. In his day lead
was first discovered within the present lim
its of the State of lowa, but the noted Ju
lien Dubuque was the first who taught the
Indians to collect the ore, and make an ar
ticle of trade of it. lie was net only a
brave, but a crafty man, and after bis death
the savages, in compliance with his dying
wish, deposited his remains upon the sum
mit of a high cliff overlooking the "Father
of Waters," securing the mouth of the
mausoleum with a massive leaden door of a
ton weight. They then burned bis dwel
lings and erased every trace of civilized
life around bis settlements, except the or
chards planted by his owu hands. Vandal
whites afterwards cut up the door to sell,
but the name of Dubuque will ever be re
membered in lowa.
Years passed awav. The white flag of
France no longer waved over tho Mississip
pi valley, and the bold frontiers man, ad
vancing on the foremost wave of civiliza
tion, crossed the river in quest of the lead
ore, game aud fertile soil. One of the
first settlements thus established, was form
ed by a party from Kentucky, led by the
grandsire of the younger generation—old
Joe Bates, a noble specimen of a frontiers
man. Seventy winters had whitened his
long lock?, but he was still haie and hear
ty, able to wield ao axo with any of bis
sons, or !o draw a bead on a rifle with fliat
fatal accuracy of aim which had enabled
him to render good service at the haitlo of
New Orleans. Sqjceting a good locality on
the very shore of the Mississippi, old J'>e
and bis sons built a log cabin, surrounded
by a stockade to keep off the 'Dacotahs.—
They then surrounded a clearing with a
worm fence, deadened the standing trees
by the fatal axe circle, and planted corn. —
AY hen their corn was well above ground
and free from weds, they began to pros
pect for lead ore.
Titus far they had seen no Indians, and
began to flatter themselves that tho red
skins hud left tlie country to their pea'ceful
possession, but the wily savages had kept
a constant watch upon their movements. —
Perhaps, had they confined themselves to
agricultural labors, the intruders might
have gone unmolested, especially as the
Dacotahs wished to conciliate the United
States government into a profitable treaty,
but when pick axes were wielded in search
of lead ore, the destruction of the pale
l'sces was resolved upon in council.
The first object of savage .vengeance was
the oldest sun. Frank Bates, who had built
him a cabin about five hundred yards front
head quarters, despite the warnings of old
Joe. Frank, however, had no fear of Indi
ans, and lived with his wife and their babe
in great happiness, until ouc summer's niglJ
when he was awakened by the loud barking
of dogs. Springing frotn bis bed, he look
ed through an opening in the logs, and saw
to his horror, at least fifty Dacotahs, in
full war costume, evidently seeking the ea
siest way to force an entrance into the cab
in. Arousing his wife, be raised a ee'tlar
trap door, and wa3 about to send her down,
when the child she had left in the bed be
gan to cry.
I 'I cannot leave un hale,' said she.
'Nav,' he exclaimed, 1 1 will take care of
the boy,' and almost forcing her down into
the small cellar, he closed the unhinged
j dor, over which he drew a large chest.—
! Then seizing his rifle and hatchet, he took
| the infant and ascended to the loft-of the
cabin, pulling up the ladder after liitn. A
! moment more, and the door was forced from
its hinges, and the iJacotahs entered, eager
i for their prey. But Bates did not remain
to wateh their movements, for lashing his
j boy to his shouLder, he cautiously opened a
i shutter iu the gable of the loft, and seeing
'that no Indians were beneath, jumped to the
ground, rifle in hand.
Ere he had travers n d bis little garden, the
air resounded with the blood chilling tones
of the war whoop, and a volley of arrows
rained around the fugitive. Happily only
one struck hirn, and that iu the fleshy part
of the arm, so that he kept on, straining
' every nerve to reach the stockade around
; his father's cabin. But ere he had gone
i many paces a gigantic Indian overtook him.
7 uruiug, like a stag at Lay, he faced his
antagonist, knocked him down with the
hntt of his rifle, and then sped on his way.
Hut now, to his horror, he saw a large
body of the Dacotahs arouud his father's
dwelling as he approached, firing over on
to the roofs of the cabins with arrows to
which burning tow was attached.
lie paused, but the cries of lis boy
aroused him to a sense of bis own danger
and bis wife's perilous situation. Direct
ing his steps towards the river, where he
found his 'dug-out' safely moored, he soon
was paddling across the river to a settle
ment where there vrere a large number of
whites.
Day had scarcely dawned on the succeed
ing morning, before twentj' miners, good
men and true, were ready to accompany
him across the river. Tbey cared no more
for Dacotahs than for prairie dogs, and act",
ed upon the spur of the moment, regardless
of consequences. Crossing above his resi
dence, young Bates led them towards his
clearing, but on arriving there, nothing re
mained of his house but a mouldering pilo
of ashes. His beloved wife had evidently
perished in the flame, for among the ashes
and charred beams in the cellar, they found
some blackened bones. Just then they
were joined by old Joe Bates and two of
his younger sons, armed to the teeth. They
were delighted to see Frank alive, for they
feared that the column of smoke that had
risen from his cabin was his monument, but
now tbey did their best to condole Lim in
their rough way. He said but little, but
secretly vowed to avenge hi? wife's death,
aud well did he keep his word. To have
seen irut, no one would have supposed that
the mild-looking, slender built Frauk Bates
was an incarnate demon in a fight with the
Dacotahs, yet within a year after his cabin
was burnt, lie bad twenty scalps bangjng at
liia girdle. Vengeance seemed his only
thought, his life's desire.
For some time after this ontrago, the
Dacotahs kept away from the miners, but
at last a party of thorn came prowling about,
and the miners determined to have a brush
with theui, and who was so competent to
bead the party as that sworn encury of the
red skins, Frank Bates? The party enga
ged two Winnebagoes as guides, and then
struck into the forest, following a recent
trail. The third night of their journey the
weary leader insisted on standing sentry,
and about midnight the clear crack of his
rifle awakched every sleeper. Iu an in
stant, every-man was ou his feet, rifle in
hand ready to repel any larking foe, but a
low whistle from Frank announced there
was no danger. Morning'caiue, and as the
party crowded around the sedtincl to learn
the cause of the alarm, he merely pointed
to what appeared to be a huge bear; a near
er approach to the object discovered to their
astonishment the grim visage of a dead Da
cotali, enveloped iu the skin of a gigantic
bruin, who thus disguised, bad attempted to
reconnoitre the position of the frontier?
awn-
Frank now felt assuied they were near
their enemy, and followed the trail in si
lence, on the alert for their foe. On reach
ing the summit of a knoll, they saw the vil
lage before thetn—a collection of high,
conical tents, made of dressed bnffalo skins
sewed together, and ornamented with rude
representations of the battle or the chase.—
On the outskirts were the squaws, engaged
in the laborious occupations which fall to
their lot. Their infants, tightly bound to
straight strips of bark, were tied to small,
over birches, which gently danced
them to sleep, and the boys of the village,
with bow and arrow, were firing at the rep
resentation of a Kansas hunter. In the
centre of the village, before the towering
teDt of the chief, sat the braves, smoking
their tomahawk pipes with stoical gravity.
The white men looked at the priming ot
their rifles, put tbeir sharp hunting knives
between their teeth and with a deafening
yell rushed down through the frightened
squaws, ere the Dacotnhs could comprehend
what caused the alarm. Dashing into the
startled group of warriors with fierce war
whoojis, they dealt, destruction around them.
The chief was the first slain, bravely de
fending himself and encouraging bis warri
ors, who nobly struggled to avenge his
death, but ail in vain.
Frank Bates fought like a demon, but at
one time was nearly a victim to a stalwart
warrior. But on glaneing at his opponent,
Frank recognized, in a gay red handker
chief around his head, his marriage gift to
his lost wife. This added renewed strength
to bis body, and increased activity to his
fury, as ho seized his assailant with his left
arm, lifted him from the ground, and at the
same time with nervous force thrust his
kuife into his heart. This decided the bat
tle, for the surviving Dacctah?, panic struck
at the sudden attack, rushed to the spot
BEDFORD. PA.. FRIDAY. JURE 13.18-56.
where their horses were tethered and eg
caped into the forfest. Upwards of fifty
dead warriors remained on the bloody field
and others grievously wounded, but not a
single white man was seriously injured.
The women and children fled to the
woods, and tho whites found an abundance
of plunder, comprising blankets, rich furs (
horses, dried meat aud tents. But Frank
Bates felt sad at heart, for the sight of this
'memento of his wife made him fear she had
beeu tortured before perishing in the flames.
Night came on, and feeling positive that he
could not sleep, he volunteered to keep
watch. It was a bright moonlight night,
and as he wa® pacing his solitary round
planning new schemes of vengeance, he
heard a light step approach frotn the thick
et.
Frank, at first, raided his rifle to shoot
down the intruder, but a secret influence
led him to call out: -who comes!'
'Are you a white man?' was the reply, in
tones thai, produced an indescribable effect
upon the stout hearted pioneer.
'Yes, and you?'
'1 am Frank Bates' wife, who was taken
prisoner over on the Mississippi,' aud as
she spoke, she advanced.
The rifle foil to the ground, aud Frank
stood as if under the influence of a magic
spell. His hands were convulsively clench
ed, his hair stood erect on his head, a shiver
ran through his frame, and he tottered back
several paces. But uot so the female, who
had recognized her husband us she drew
near, and exclaimed as she threw herself
into his arms:
•Frank, my own Frauk, do you not know
your wife."
Yes, it was his long mourned bride, her
features stamped with sorrow, but still re
taining ber early beauty. Mutual explana
tions followed, and when the delighted wife
learned the safety of her boy, all her hard
ship; vanished. It now appeared that when
the ludians had entered Bate's bouse, they
found a keg of whiskey vyhich tl ey drank
freely, aud then plundered everything, re
moving the chest in their researches. So'bn
two of tliera quarried for the haukerchief
Bates had seen the day previous, and draw
ing their scalp-knives, one speedily received
a mortal stab, and fell directly upon the trap
door, through which his Wood ran upon the
hidden wife. She believing that it came
from tlic veins of her husband, shrieked
aloud, thus betraying her place of conceal
ment. Dragging ber forth, bet. captor®
bound her, then rifling the cabin applied
the torch. The body of (be slain Dacotali
I was consumed, and over his bones Bates Lad
mourned as for those of his wife.
That day they 'packed' the plunder upon
what horses the Dacotahs had left, and stai
ted for their homes, which they regained in
safety. The proceeds of Frank Bate'?
share of the spoils enabled him to rebuild
bis house, but this time close to that of his
father and enclosed with a high stookadc.
The Dacotahs, however, never returned, and
in the course of lime were driven to the
Far West, Frank Bates is now one of the
wealthiest landholders ia lowa, a member
of the State Serjate, Judge of the County
Court, and Major General of militia. Time
ha; dealt leniently with him and his wife,
but neither forgets hes captivity. Their son
never passes the sceue of his father's fight
on that memorable night, without feeling a
renewed sense of his fillial obligation and a
deeper love for his boyhood's home.
A HARD HlT.—One of our citizens who
js well kuo vn as a uian of ability and wit,
was once guilty of perpetrating the follow
ing:
Standing in the street one day conversing
with Dr. Z., they observed another physi
cian passing in his chaise, accompanied by
one of his patients who was fast recovering,
'Well,' said Dr. Z., I never took a patient
to ride in my life.' No,' said our friend,
'Mr. , the sexton, always saves you
the trouble.'
BEAI'TIFCL ANNOUNCEMENT. —The fol
lowing beautiful announcement of Spring,
clipped from a very old book, which cannot
be too often read, is very appropriate to the
season now opening upen us of tho North:
"Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over
and gone; the flowers appear on ihe earth,
the time of singing of birds is come, and the
turtle is beard in the land: the fig treeput
tetji forth her green figs and tho tender
grapes give a good smell."
UCGOINO —Some lady ro gentleman has
written tbe following to a newspaper oast,
which applies to any locality where men wear
hair:
Jennie hates moustaches; "so ranch Imir
Makes every man look like a bear."
But Fanoy, who no thought can fetter,
Burst out "The more like bears the better,
Because' 5 ber pretty shoulders shrugging—
"Bearr are such glorious chaps for hugging. '*
Prutn the Spirit of the Times.
Winning a Widow.
After riding tweuty miles I reached Dou
aJdsorivillc, La., just after dark. TbeNat
i cbez packet sometimes arrived about ten o'-
clock a? night, and as I Wis bound up the
Mississippi and did not want to miss her>
determined to wait in the wharf office.—
Shortened the time by paying a few visits to
a coffee house and billiard room in the
town. During one these I noticed the ar
rival of a party of French Creoles, who
talked and swore over a dozeu 'mallard
dueks' loud enough to have made you be
lieve they'd been on the war-fail after
Camanches, aud brought in as many scalps.
At last walked over to the wharf offioe, set.
tied down and found comfort in a cigar, and
as much of a newspaper as the rather misty
light of a bull-eyed lantern would give me.
The fire iu the stove roared bravely and
sent out plenty of warmth. I had dropped
the paper and only held on to the cigar when
I suddenly woke up on hearing the door
open and a couple of men enter. They found
chairs, and drawing up to the stove, continu
ed a conversation,evidently just commenced
as thev entered.
"And so, Buffer is going to be married!'•
"Wal be is—and good match Le's made
of it- 1 tell you what, she's a roarer. If
he don't have to put a kicking breech ou
• her afore he's married a week' you imy call
mc a fool. Sire's got eves like a panther,
if lie only lets uer get ihe Lit atwecn'hcr
teeth—just for once—she'll carry him fur th
er nor he wants to go "
"What makes h'uu want to marry her
then?"
"Niggers, mules, and as neat a plantation
as there is on the Two huudred and
fifty hogsheads clean sugar last crop', and if
they <1 only cut the cane airlier, fifty more
atop of it. She had a now steam engine
[put up last season, and though that cussed
baggage burner's a cussed humbug, yet 1
reckon it's all paid for, and all Buffer's got
to do is step ia hang up his hat and set right
down to lire lika n Sy!ititg eock."
"Why didn't you go in there? The last
time I caure down the river I heard you
were buckiDg up to the widow?"
"Wal now, Jim, to be honest, I did think
affore that Buffer stepped in, that I just had
it all my own way, and that I was goin to
get her, sure ! As these here French say,
'I wade eyes at her savage! But ssaro how
'nother, she always went dead agin old
Miss Lip. A iu:iu front otir State had no
kind of a show, and, though I put the ten.*
tions to her like an uncle, it didn't seem to
be no use tryin. 'Bout time she did kind
of learu my way, you see uare 'bout the end
of garden season, old Farabole giv' adar.ee
in Lis sugef bouse, and 'vited tue and
the widder, and a raft more: and down wo
went, and the widder kind a felt her oats,
and we reeled it off in the airly part of tho
evening fit. to kill ; but bj'm-by that Buffer
came on an' just knocked me cold !
"Ye see lte'd been down to the city, (New
Orleans,) aud only 'rived on the Bayou that
night, an' hearing that there was goin's ou
down to old Farabole's sugar house, down he
cum. Wa!, sir, he was drest to death in the
handsumest kind of store clothes, and the
women were right up oa end as soon as he
canie in.
"I sec the widder a fixiu' her panther eyes
on him, and I jest said to myself—'Dick
Tareotit, you mout as well clcr, that 'ere
Buffer's too much for you in the close line.'
I felt it at oucct. Wal, sir, in about a uiiuit
tip comes Buffer, smiles at the widder in a
fashinatin' manner, au' ensists on dancin'
with her. Sez she, 'yes, Mister Buffer, it
will afford uie the greatest piesliure!' Great
est plesbnre! Wal, the way he squeezed her
when tbey danced, I rather think it did. I
kept an eye on Buffer Now, you see, he'd
been stapiu' at the Saiut Charles, an puttin'
it through like forty, an' he'd larnt all the
last agonies in the way of bowiu' and scrapin'
and sayiu' leetle uotbin's; an' sir, he carri
ed his baud all over the sugar house, down
among the biiers, an' up round back of the
iogine—war the lickcr was—cverywber he
toted that ar* hat.
"Now tbe widder didn't jest exactly know
what to make of-—coz it pas a new wrinkl"
—so twic't she said to biiu he'd better let
Big Jake, one of the niggers, hold it for
biiu; but *twant no use, he held oa to't
tight as a wrench; at last, jest as they war
'a the middle of a dance, sez Buffer, with
sech a smile, scz he—'Mrs. Noirveux, for
your sake I'll do most enoything!' An' he
actually held that ar' hat in one hand, and
hit it a lick with t'other, and fetched top an'
rim right into pancake—knocked it right
down flat.
"I tell you wot, when the widder see him
do that, she was jest ready to drap, she was
come over with his 'tentioos. And all to
gratify her little whim' I see at once how
hs was goin' an' I determined, sir, to htjad
him off. So I stepped up round back of the
inginc, whar the Picker war, an 1 I took a
most rousiu' big born of old Faru bole's
an' huutirr found my bat. It wis right new
one—none of your Kossboot or wool hats>
but a reg'lar beaver, as stiff as a stove pipe
aud shone like a pare of uew black boots; so
I lays hold of tiiat ar' hat and goes round
back of the mgine an" takes an' takes anoth
er swingin' big pull at the rum and then I
felt jest ready for action. The dance was
through, and as cheers was scarce, the wo
men were all seated on a fc-w seats in front
of the bileis, an' Buffer was a pilio' on the
soft things and the widder was a lookin'
tickeled to pieces, when 1 made my appear_
cnce on the stage !
"I works to'rd the widder, an' when I
got atweer. her an' Buffer, sez I, 'A-low me
the pleasure of your hand tlie uext set! '
•Ob,' sez site, with a leetle sigh, •I'm so
come over that I hardly feel abul to dance
agiD ?'
'Now,* sez Ito myself, : old felier spread
yourself or die.' and I jest swings mv hat
round for'd an' jest as I said; you'd better
say 'yes!' you'll get over it dattciu' I held
that ar' hat ia one hand (just as Buffer did
his) an' with t'other hand I uruv the crown
down with s"ch another licit, that the lining
jumped right through aud bust theecnu clean
out."
"Haley," said she, "you skeered me!" an'
1 think 1 mout have done i;. Thar wos my
ha!, ail knocked to infernal pieces, no big
ger than tits, the rim all liangin' loose, the
sides smashed in, the lining running out
and the top off. 'Bout that time. I turned
my eye, and thar stood Buffer holdiu' his
hat—jest cs good as new, and all in shape
sir ' I looked at it twice—uo mistake it
was whole.
Sez he. 'you ought to got a spring iiat—
sluippok mechanic, as the French call 'cat.
I've one here!' An'then be ups and shows
the whole insidos of it, an' how it works,
and the hull lot of women looked at Lino
like if bo bad a stcve pipe chuck full i f
diamonds, the widder specially patternized
him, tnck him Htider her wiag, an' give me
the cold shoulder— straight. Buffer's got
her: I'm tired of La-Fooabo, an' am gnu'
baek to the bills, whar thyr ar' no more wid
ders that fellers can cotton down with spring
hats.'
KI??ING: — Why did Jacob weep? —■
Jacob kissed Rachel and lifted up his
voire and wept — Scripture.
If Rachel was a pretty girl, and kept he
face clean we can't see what Jacob had to
cry about.— Globe.
llow do yon know but she slapped bint
in the fi ce'— Dett i
Weeping is not 'infrequently produced bv
extreme pleasure, joy, happiness, it might
have been so in Jacob's case— Whig.
( Gentlemen, bold your tongues: the cause
of Jacob's weeping wa? the refusal of Ra
chel to allow liiui to kiss her again— Flag.
It is our opinion that Jacob wept because
he had not kissed llnchcl before—.Jgc.
Greet:, verdant, oil of ye. The fellow
wept because the gal didn't kiss him .2-
m "rican.
Nonseuse, Jacob wept because Rachel
told him to do it twice more, and he was
afraid to.— Dc;n. cS' Freeman.
Iledieulous! there is not a true yaukee
among you. We guess Jacob cried because
Rachel threatened to tell her tnarm. —
Union.
There you are wrong again, he wept be
cause there was ouiy one Rachel to kiss.—
Ilei aid.
Ob, you git out.' lie wept for joy cause
it tasted so good.— Mail.
We reckon Jacob cried because Rachel
had been eating onions. 0. P.
Our own opinion is, that Jacob wept be
cause be found after all, "it was r.ot half
what it was cracked up to he."— Richmond
Whig.
We think Rachel tuust have thrown a
bucket of water in his face as she stood
watering sheep ut her father's well. It
seems to us that Jacob was pretty free on
short- acquaiutauce, and we do not blauie
Rachel for giving him a douche.—Senti
nel.
Gentlemen, ye all orr "not knowing the
scriptures," for know ye not that "UJcbel
ran and told her father leaving Jacob to
watch the sheep." As to the "freedom,"
hadn't he the right to kiss his own "cous
in."—Cyle.y.
ERRORS OF THE PRESS. —Reader did
you know that every coletnn of a newspa
per contained fro' ten to twenty thousand
distinct pL-cs of metal the displacing of auy
one of which would cause a blunder or ty
pographical error! With this curious fact
before you; don't you wonder at ths gener
al accuracy of newspapers! Knowing this
to be the fact; you will be more disposed,we
hope, to excuse than msgnfy errors of the
prera.
VOL. 29, AO 24.
AUNT LIZZIE'S COCRASHI*.— YY'bv, you
see when my man came aeortin' m?, I hadn't
the least thought of what he was after—not
I. Jobic came to onr house crse night, after
dark, and rapped at the doer. I opened it,
and sure enough there ho was.
'L'omt in,' says I; 'take a cheer.'
'No, Lizzie,' says he, 'l've come on an
arrant, an' I always do my arraiyts fust.'
'Bat you had better come in and take a
cheer Mr. YV
'No, I can't. The fact is, Lizzie, I've
come on this 'ere courtin' business. My
vti'e s bepu dead tbese three weeks, an
every thing's goiu' to tack an' ruin right
'long. Now, Lizzie, if you're a ramd to
have mc, an' take care of niy bouse an' my
children, an' my things, tell me an' I'll
come in an' take a cheer, if uot I'll get some
one else tu.'
YV'hy, I was skeered. and said:
'lf you come on this coustin' business,
couie in. I must think on't a little.'
'Nc, I can t till I know. That's ray jir
tant, and I can't set down until niy arrant is
dona.'
'I should like to think on it a uav or
two.'
'No you needn't Lizzie.'
'YY ell, Jobie, if I ums! : so here".- at ve?
theu.'
Ho Mr. Y\ ——- came in. Then he went
afrer the Squire, apd be married me and
right off, and I went home with Jobie that
very night.
I tell yc what it long courtiu" 8
don't amount to ootliin* at all. Jjst as
well do it in a hurry.
A Poos MAX'S COMFORT. —It is a bles
sed thing for a poor man to have a conten
ted wife, one who will not wish to live in
style beyond her husband's income, just be
cause her next-door neighbor does; one who
caa be happy in the love of her husband,
her home, and its beautiful duties without
asking fha world for its smiles and its fa
vor.
Exvr.—The hoy upon foot cannot bear
to see a hoy who is riding. And KU ii is
with envy of a larger growin. We are al
ways crying out; "Whip b%iind !" in the
miserable hope of seeing some fcancor-on
more fortunate than ourselves, knocked off
his perch.--.? philosopher in the streets.
TP" There is a man in Worcester Mass-,
who has lived so loug on corn bread that his
hair has turned to silk like that which
grows on the corn, and his toes a:e so full
of ooras that he expects to sec them cover
ed with busks next year.
A e see it stated that travelling on
the Lord's day, io the Sandwich Islands,
except in the. direction of the church , is for
bidden by law. Wonder what they do with
people who travel home from church.
AWFUL. —The flame Journal tells of a
lady who has worn at one fime as many as
■ thirty skirts! We do not know what is the
; usual number, but that seems to us like J.
! few too msuy.
i OXr"Among the proverbs of the Arabs is
I one which hints at the case of your "lvcky
! man," as he is termed, '.fling Uiin into the
| Nile" they say, "and lie will come up with
j a fish in his mouth."
Guxrt:\Buao.—ln dicing a well at
Muntz, recently, the workmen discovered a
| large fragment of a printing press, bearing
i the initials of Guttenburg, and the data
! 1541, iu Roman characters.
| A FITTING TBCTU. —Woman'S partiali
!ty for thin shoes is to be accouutcd for by
iter insuperable dislike to a thick understan
ding.—Punch.
"Excuse me, madam, butj would like to
ask why you look at inc so very savagely?"
"Oh! 1 leg pardon, sir ' I took you for my
1 husband."
To DAUGHTERS. —The secret yon dare
not tell your mother, is a dangerous secret
and one that'will be likely to bring you sor
row and suffering in the end.
It is a proverb at college, that the stu
dents who graduate with the highest honors
are seldom heard of afterwards.
Three things that are unwise to boast of;
the flavor of thy r.ie, the beauty of thy
daughter, and the contents of thy purse.
Modesty and talents moke tTtdim capital
on which to make a fortune.
\
H/~Reputation is like polished steel—it
aiay be tarnished by a breath.
If honest men are the salt of tae enrt!:,
prcttj girls may be said tote its c.-.gar.