BY DAVID OVER.
A GHOST STORY.
BY ITAZEL GREEN", ES^.
"Never but once was I frightened at any
thing like a ghost," said Timothy Tyles,
.'and then I was frightened for certain. I
was living on the upper Mississippi at the
time, but that makes no difference. I'll
tell yon how it was.
oie night, about T2 o'clock, I beard
some one rapping at my door. "Who's
there?" I asked.
"Mosier," replied a voice from without:
• ; 1 thought I'd stop and see if you wouldn't
go and watch the coal pit for me till morn
ing. lam not very well, and having been
up all last night, I think f had better try
to get a little sleep."
Now I knew Mosier very well—knew he
was burning charcoal about half a mile up
the river; and not only that, but I knew
he had a real pretty girl, and that I had ta
ken a great notion to her. So up 1 jumps,
hauls on my clothes, and was ready to be
off in a few minutes.
"You will not be afraid to stay by your
self, will you Tim?" asked Mosier, as we
were about separating, for he lived still
further down the rivet.
"Afraid"' esc! aimed I. "No, what
shonld Ibe afraid of? I have never vet
seen anything worse than myself."
"Oh, I did not mean to say you were
cowardly, Tim, but I thought you might be
lonesome, perliap.v. and if you thought so,
that I had better wake up the Dutchman
who is staying at your house, and try to
get Liui to go with you."
1 assured hint that I needed uo conipanv,
and so started for the coal pit, The night
was very dark, and I must confess that i
did feel a little squeamish, but I could not
tell why. There was the grave of an In
dian by the side of the path which I must
travel to reach the cial pit, and it had been
reported that wonderful sights bad been
seen there. Perhaps this was tLe cause of
my unpleasant feelings"
I tried to whistle my spirits up, but it
was all no go. The nearer 1 approached
the dreaded spot, the worse I felt. When
I bad reached the cliff of rocks around
which I should turn in a few paces, and be
right at the Indian grave, I felt my hat
raise ou my head, and then it seemed that
myriads of little demons were dancing
through my hair, and plaping at leap frog
up and dowu my back and over my shoul
ders, and huunuiug queer noises in my ears.
I stopped, and begau to think seriously of
beating a retreat. Just then the fair im
age of June K iizabeth Klvira Mosiei flitted
across my fancy, end 1 said to myself,
"This will never do. Go b-tck, and let the
'ld man's coal pit burst out and bum up? I
M by, it would settle the hush with me for
ever. The next time I'd go to see Jane
Elizabeth Elvira, he'd up aud kick me out j
of the house; besides," reasoned I, "what
Lave I seen? What kind of an excuse
could J make? No siree, I'll go through
ut bust a bilcr. If there's anything at the ■
old Inuian grave, I'll not see it, for I won't
look that way."
Thus saying, I started en at a rapid pace-
The rocks were rouuded, and keepiug my
eyes bent cu the ground, I had nearly pas- j
*ed the grave, when a bright light blazed !
across the path just before me. Before 1
had time to think, I looked up, and oh, i
great Jupiter ! what a sight! A monster
with a head about the size of a half bnshel
measure, was standing upon the ludiau j
grave. Its eyes as large as cocoa nuts, i
veie rolling ia its great bead, aud glaring •
frigntfully at mc. From between its huge
teeth bright jets cf fire flashed aud blazed :
across my path, like streaks of miniature
lightning. Ia fact, its entire head seemed
to be one great red ball of fire, with small
pieces of the sun set in it for eyes.
While 1 stood gazing, completely stupe
lied with horror, it made a low bow to me, |
and then raising itself erect, it shook its
head and rattled its teeth together most
frightfully. Then I fancied that I saw it
take a few steps toward where I was stand
ing. This rather roused ine to a sense of ;
action, and in the next instant I was hob- |
bing aleug down the river bank a little j
swifter than it was usual for footmen to pass
that way. At every leap 1 imagined it was
grabbing at my coat tail, for wheu I start
ed, I thought 1 heard it right at my heels. 1
Keaching home, 1 did not wait to open tbc
door, but throwing my weight against it,
bursted it in. The Dutchman, who was
sleeping up stairs, hearing the rippit, and
supposing the house was besieged, came
down with a chair drawn, and crying at the
top of his voice:
"Robbers: tiefc! nrartcr! robbers'
riefs! laehins! Oh, mine Got
Seeing nobody hut me, be settled down.
Ail in the family were aroused. I told my
r; in as few words as possible Some
A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, Ac., &c---Terras: Two Dollars per annum.
believed it—others laughed at me, the
Dutchman in particular. He said I "vos
von eowartlv poy," aDd "got fright" at my
own shadow. That there was no such thiDg
as a ghost, and that he would willingly go
right up to anything of the kind that could
j be shown him.
"3 ou would not have gone up to this," I
! said, still trembling.
"Desure I vould. i?hust go back mit
me, and let me see der place, an I'll show
; you dere's nottin dare."
i I refused at first, but being urged by the
: family, and thinking of Jane Elizabeth El
vira Nlosier, the coal pit, and of being kick
ed out of the house by the old inan,T re
luctantly conseuted.
Mr e started back, the Dutchman gassing
along about bis bravery, and about how he
had unraveled many a ghostly mystery,and
I trembling from the effects of my fright,
but saying nothing. In duo* time we reach
ed the cliff.
"Now, just around this rock is where I
aw it," said I, stopping and turning lack,
for the path was not broad enough for us
to walk side by side, and he was following
I close at my beets.
j "Oh, go on," said he, "it makes trotting,
j I'sh not fraid of ter rifle."
M e went on. M c turned around the
•sck. I looked, and there it was blazing
. and flashing just as I had seen it before. 1
turned to the Dutchman, to see what effect
it produced upon him, wheu 10, he was not
there! A glauce down the path revealed
: him streaking it like a comet' around the
rock. This frightened mo woroe than ev
j er, and so I set out after him as swift as
; my locomotive powers would carry me. Be
iug ratloer the swiftest runner of the two,
I passed him just as we reached the mouth
! of the long land which led to our house.—
| lie was fairly hoeing it down, and grunting
' every jump, loud enough to have been
heard a hundred yards.
I had not been long in the lead before I !
heard a kind of thumping and tusseling
uoise just behind me, and in the next in- !
-taut the Dutchman cried out:
"Help! rnurter! Oh, mine Got! it ash J
I got mc' Ter rifle hash got me ! rnurter' j
j murter!"
Dp to this time I had been rnuning fast
jer than I ever ran before, but when these \
| sounds reached my ear, I doubled my speed, j
It seemed to me that Death was right at ■
l my heels, and nothing hut the greatest ex- i
ortion on my part could save me. In the
twinkling of an eye 1 was in the house,
where, to my utter astonishment, I found i
! .Mosier, laughing fit to split his sides. The ■
truth at once flashed across my mind. It j
was a trick, and a rich one at that. In a
short rime the Dutchman came limping up, :
and then the laughing commenced in real
earnest; but you may be certain the Dutch
man and myself took but little part in it.
The phenomenon cf the ghost is easily i
explained. Yfosier aud soma of the fellows
at the coal pit had scooped oat a pumpkin, ■
cut hideous looking eyes and mouth in the
rind, and then setting two candles in it, had !
fixed it up at the Indian grave. A loDg
string was attached to it, so that one could
stand off and pull, to make it move. It
was, indeed, a frightful looking thiug. The
awful scare which the Dutchm in sot while
coming down the lane, was occasioned by
his having run over a cow that was quietly
sleeping in the road. As she jumped up, j
her horn accidentally caught in his clothes
and the poor fellow had no other thought
than that the devil had him for certain.
We got over our scare, but I did not
hear the last of it as long as I remained in
that region.
A witty doetor says that tight lacing is a
public benefit, inasmuch as it kills sll the
foolish girls, and leaves the wise ones tt>
grow np to be women.
"How is your husband this afternoon
Mrs. Squiggs?' 'Why the doctor says how if i
he lives till the morning, he shall have seme
hopes of Lira, but if ha don't he must give
him up.'
'John,' said a doting parent to her rather
insatiable boy, 'can you eat that pudding
with impunity l ' 'I don't know, ma,' re
| plied young hopeful,-but I guess 1 can with
a spoon.'
A member of tbo Lazy Club has just been
expelled for going at a gait faster than a
walk. The recussent offered in mitigation '
of sentence the fact that the sheriff was i
after b:ui, but tbo society was inexorable.'
3lF""There is a woman at the bottom of
every mischief," said Joe. "Yes," replied
Charley, "when I used to get into mischief,
my mother was at the bottom of me. But
it never did any good—it only taught me to
I cheat and lie like the devil.*'
MARY ANNS WEDDING.
AS RELATED BV MRS. JONES.
'M d were all preparing,' said Mrs. Jones
'to go to the wedding. I was going, fatb
;er was going, the gals was going, and we
was going to take the baby. But when we
come to dress the baby, we couldn't find
the baby's shirt. I'd laid a clean oue out
of tbo drawer on purpose. I knowed jist
where I'd put it; but corno to look for't
| 'twas ghne
'For mercy'a sake, gals,' says I, 'has any
| on ye seen that baby's shirt?'
'Of coarse none on 'era had seen it; and
I looked, and looked, and looked again, hut
; 'twant nowhere to be found. It's the
j strangest thing in all natur, said I, here I
had the shirt in my hand not mor'n ten inin
! u'es ago, and uow it's gone, and nobody
can tell where. I never seed the beat.—
Gals, says Ido look aroaud, carr t ye? But
fretting wouldn't find it—so I give up, and
I went to the bureau and fished up another
shirt, and put it onto the baby, and at last
we were ready for a start.
Father harnessed up a double team—we
drove the old white mare then—and the
gals and all was having a good time, going
to see Mary Ann married, hut some bow I
couldn't git over that shirt! 'Twant the
shirt so much, but to have auytbiug spirit
|ed away right under my face and eyes so,
'twas provoking.
'YYhat ye thinking about, mother?' says
bophroiiy, 'what makes you look so sober?*
i says she.
'l'm pestered to death, thinking about
that are shirt- One of you must have took
it, I am sartio, says I.
'Now, uaa,' says &phrouy, says she, 'you
ueedu't say that,' says she, and as I'd laid
onto her a good uiany times, she was begin
ning to get vexed, and so we had it back
| and forth, and all about that baby's shirt,
; till we got to the weddjng.
Seeing company kinder put it out of my
| mill J, and I was getting good natured
! again, though I could not help saying to
i myself every few minutes, what could Le
' come of that shirt? till at last they stood
up to he married, and I forgot all at-out it.
Marp Acu was a real modest creature, and
was mor'n half frightened to death, wheu
she eaine into the room with Stephen, and
the minister told them to jtne hands. She
first gave her left hand to Stephen. Your
other band, says tue minister, says the min
ister, says be, an 1 poor Steve he was so
bashful too, lie didn't know what he was
about, he thought 'twas his mistake, and
that the minister meant him, so he gave Ma
ry Aan his left Land. That wouldn't do
anyway, a left handed marriage all around,
but by this time they didn't know what tbey
was about, aud Mary Ann jiued her right
hand to his left, then her left with his right
then both their left hands again, till I was
all of a fidget, aud thought they would nev
er get fixed.
Mary Ann looked as red a* a turkey,and
to make matters worse, she began to cough
to turn it off, I suppose, and called for a
glass of water. The minister had just been
drinking, and the tumbler stood right there,
and I was so nervcus, and in such a hurry
to see it all over, thai I ketcbed up the
tumbler, and run with it to her, for I tho't
to goodness she was going to faint. She
uudertouk to drink —I don't know how it
happened, but the tumbler slopped, and
gracious me, if between us both, we uidu't
spill the water all over her collar and
dress.
1 war dreadful flustered, for it looked as
though t'was my fault, aud the fust thing 1 ;
did was to out with my haudkercbief, and
give it to Mary Ann; it was nicely done up,
and she took it and shook it. The folks
had held in putty well up to this time, hut
then such a giggle and laugh as there was-
I didn't know what had given theiu such a
start, till I looked and seen that 7 had giv
en J\lary .inn thai baby's shirt!
Here 31 rs. Jones, who was a very fleshy
woman, undulated aud shook like a mighty
jelly, with her unrth, and it was some tune
before she could proceed with bet uarra
tive. : ~ ,
'Why,' said she, with tears of laughter
running down her chuck?, 'l'd- tutfked it in
to my dress for a 'kerchief. That came
from being absent minded and in a fidget.'
'And Mary Ann and Stephen—were they
married after all?'
'Dear me, yes, said Mrs. Joaes, and it
turned out to be the gayest wed ling that I
ever tended.'
'And the baby's shirt, Mrs. Jones?'
'La me,' .'aid Mrs. Jones, how young
folks do ask questions. Everybody agreed
toat I ought to make Mary Ann a present
on't.'
'Well, Mrs. Jones?'
'Well,' said Mrs. Jones, 'twant long be
fore she had a use for it. Aud that's the
end of the'storv :
BEDFORD. PA.. FRIDAY. MARCH 27, 1857.
THE NOBLE REVENGE.
The coffin was a plain one —a poor miser
able pine coffin. No flowers on its top —no
Ruing of rose white satin for the pale brow
—no smooth ribbons around the coarse
shroud. The brown hair was laid decently
back, but there was no crimped cap, with
its neat tie beneath the chain. Sufferer
from cruel poverty smiled in her sleep, she
had found bread, rest, and health.
'I want to see my mother,' sobbed the
poor child as the city undertaker screwed
down the top of the coffin.
'Y'ou can't—get out of the way, hoy: why
don't 3oaiebody take the brat?'
'Only let me see her one minute,' cried
! the hapless, homeless orphan, clutching the
side-of the charity box, and as he gazed
! into that rough face, anguished tears
j streamed rapidly down the cheek ou which
:ao childish bloom ever lingered. (J! it was
pitiful to hear him cry, 'Only ooec, let me
; see my mother, only ouce."
Quickly and biutaiiv the bard hearted
monster struck the hoy away, so hat he
reeled with the blow For a moment the
boy stood panting with grief and rage; his
blue eyes distended, his lips sprang apart, a
fire glittered through his tears, as le raised
his puny arm, and with a roost uochildhb
: accent screamed, 'M'hen I'm a man, I'll
kill you fcr tha'!'
There was a coffin aud a heap of earth be
tween the mother and the poor forsaken
child and a monument stronger than granite,
built in his boy-heart to the memry of a
heartless deed.
******
The court room was crowded to suffoca
tion.
'Does aDy one appear as this man's coun
sel?' asked the judge.
There was a silence when he finished, un
til with his lips tightly pressed togtther, a
look of strange intelligence blended with
haughty reserve upon his bandsone fea
j turcs, a young uian stopped forward with a
firm ticad and kindling eye to jiload for
j the erring and the fricndle?>3. Ilr, *
j stranger, but from his first seutence there
i was silence. The splendor of his genius
! entranced—convinced
| The man who could not find a friend
1 was acquitted.
"May God bless you, sir, 7, cannot'
'•/ want no thanks,' replied the stranger
with icy coldness.
"/—/ believe you are unknown to me.*
"Man, / will refresh your memory. A
| bout twenty years ago you struck a broken
hearted boy away from his poor mother's
coffin. 7 was that poor buy.
The man turned livid.
"Have you rescued me then, in order to
take my life?'
"No, 7 have a sweeter revenge: 7 have
saved the life of the man whose brutal deed
hns rankled ID my breast for twenty years.
Go! and remember the tears of a friendless
and forsaken child.'
The man bowed his head in shame, and
went out from the presence of a magnan
imity as graud to him as the incomprehen
sible, and the noble young lawyer felt
God" smile in his soul forever after.
SHARP.—Three small boys went into an
apothecary's store a few days since, when
the youngest urchin cried out: —
"A ceut's worth of rock candy?"
"Don't sell a cent's worth," was the re- \
ply.
The boys adjourned outside and held a
consultation, and they entered, all smiling, j
"Do you sell three cents' worth?"
"Y'es, 1 will sell three cents' worth," j
"M'ell, we don't want any," was the j
quick response, as the boys left the store.
Hoops in the Olden Time. —The follow
ing lines are copied from an old magazine.
"Y'e white bridled widows, young virgins
and old,
M'ho wear hooped petticoats, we take it
for granted,
(Indeed, the case is so plaiu, that we need
not be told.)
'Tis the true swell of nature alone that
is wanted."
A lady of wealth put her daughter, who
had been pampered by indolence under a j
governess. Upon calling to inquire bow i
her daughter progressed with her studies
she was told, not very well.
'Why, what is the reasou?'
'She wants capacity,'
'M'ell, you know 1 don't ntind expense,
yon must purchase her ooe immediately.
A witty fellow slipped down on an icy
pavement. While sitting, he muttered, "I j
hare no desire to see the town burned down,
but I sincerely wish the streets were laid
in ashes."
If the doctor orders bark, has not tha
patient a right to growl?
RATHER STRUNG
Why is it my son, that wheu you drop
your bread and butter, it is -always the
buttered side down."
I don't know. It hadn't ought to, had
it? The strongest side ought to be upper
most, hadn't it, ma? and this yere is some
of the very strongest butter I ever
seed "
"Hush up; it's some of your aunt's churn
ing."
"Did she churn it l The great lazy
thing."
"M'hat, your aunt."
"This yere butter. To make that poor
old woman churn it, when it is strong
enough to churn itself."
'•Be still, Ziba; it only wants wotking
over."
"M'cll, marm if I's you, when 1 did it,
I'd put in lots of molasses!"
"You good-for-nothing! I've ate a
great deal worse in the most aristocratic
New York boarding houses."
"Well, people of rank ought to eat
it."
"Why people of rank'"
"'Cause it's rank butter."
"You varmint, you' M'hat makes you
talk so smart?"
"The batter's taken the skin iff my
tongue, mother!"
"Ziba, don't lie. I cau't throw away
the butter. It don't signify.*'
"I tell you what I'd do with it, marm.—
I'd keep it to draw blisters. You ought t>
< see the flies keel over and die as soon a- 1
they touch it."
"Ziba, don,t exaggerate; but hero'.? twen
) ty-five cents, go to the store, aud buy a
• pound of fresh." —.\". Y. Picayune.
TIS EVER THUS.
! M'hen the stars of hope go in the dark sky
of despair, a more than funeral gloom set
tles thick and impenetrable upon the cou
oave of the soul—a gloom which neither
! the gleam of fancy nor the light of pbiios
i ophy can remove, such hope is more
common than despair aud it should be so,
else would mankind soon become bereft of
its high at.d lewly souls. Despair may
sometimes know the lightning of change hut
'tis destructive and brings no relief. Kind
[leaven Lnve mercy upon those whean
i fate or fortune has rendered deficient; for
| to them DO pleasure comes in anticipation
ior in reality. They are shunned of: n,
though their proud minds aud partiality
| callous souls brook no eommis.-eratioo.
, Despair, thou baleful companion, ac-om
: pauytng the most intellectual seemingly a
a shadow of genius, ray.
How many know despair—a knowledge
; gleaned from the vici-itude of circum-uau.
c-es, selfishness of the false faith and
: fictitious dogmas! He would seek to kuo*
in life's broad desert a single verdant spot
or expect to inhale one blooming flower's
fragrattee amid the gathering sentiment of
despair, tor it will prove seductive for that
lures us with a srniie a bewitching kiss.
Experience teaches us despear, but we
should not be taught. M'e should strag
gle with our might against it: for 'tis the
bane of life the loser of a heaven on earth
though a prec-usor of fadeless bliss in etcr.
ity
FUTURE JUDGMENT.
A minister was preachiug to a largo
congregation in one of the Southern S'ates,
on the certainty of a future ju 1j a ?ut. In
the gallery, sat a colored girl, with a white
child in her arms, which wis dancing up
and dowu with commendable effort, to make
baby observe the proprieties of the place.
The preacher wis to> uiioh interested in
bis subject to notice tuj o sea-don a! noise of
the infant, au lat the right po.u: in his
discourse, threw himself into an interesting
attitude, as though he had suddenly heard
the first note of the trump of doom, and
looking towards that part of the church
where the girl with the baby in her arms
was sitting, ho asked in a low deep voice:
"M'hat is that 1 hoar?"
Before be rcooveied from the oratorical
pause, so as to answer his own question,
the colored girl responded, in a modified
tone of voice, hut not loud enough to catch
the ears of the entire congregation:
"I dou'uo, sa spec' it dis here chile; but
indeed, sa, i has beeu doin' ail I could to
keep him from sturbiu you "
T/~*"An' will ye be aftber telling what
kind o' baste ye call this'" said a newly j
arrived Irishman, holding up a wasp be
tween bis thumb and finger. "Och, mur
der' spake quick, for he's biting me!"
A noted politician was recently caught
by a frieud perusing the Scriptures. Upon
asking Lim what particular portion of the
good book he had selected for examination,
he replied: 4 I am reading tbc story about
loaves and fishes *
SINGULAR CASE OF MARUIAGE. —A cor
j respondent of the Abingdon Virginian,
writing from Marion, Smy the County,
relates a singular ease of marriage. He
says.-
M'e have, within half a mile of this place,
an individual who has remained in pue
position (flat on his back) for sixteen years
ior more, His joints are as stiff as though
>he never bad any; ho cau move his bead
slightly, can move his hands a little, is
unable to eat a single mouthful, unless put
into bis mouth by another person; is fat;
j very hearty and cheerful; and within the
t last two years has married a good looking
aud hearty girl, and ia railing a family of
children. The clergy man who married this
man, said he had some scruples about it,
until be had a loDg conversation with both
of the parties. He saw they were bent on
being married. The yoimg lady stood by
j the bedside of the groom—she couid not
take Lis hand (jjp he could not reach it out
I —and they were made one.
A RUSSIA RAILROAD. —Nicholas th 6
First, of Russia, bad quite an original way
!of transacting business. He sent oue day,
for his engineeis, and gave them eight days
to bring bim the route of a railroad to con.
ueet Kt. Petersburg with Moscow. At the
end of the allotted time the plau was pre.
| pared.
M'hat, said he, looking ,U it, —what is aij
this—this serpentine track? You baveiuis
amderstood me.
riire, said the spokesman, we have draft
ed the shortest route which would embrace
on the line the leading town* and villages.
Give niea pencil aud rule, he said, and
he struck a bee Sine from one city to the
i other. Here—you understand roc?
But, sire, you leave the largest towns
i entirely out of sight.
That is their affair, let them couie within
sight.
And so the road was built as straight as
an 1.
A SISTER'S LOVE.
A lady who has lately lost a brother by
death, writes us in a vein of touching
sadness, to which many hearts will respond:
'I cannot tell yon how deeply 1 a:u
stricken by this sudden bereavement. Day
after day I stand and gaze after bim,
stretching out ruy hands towards the uu
knowa shore —calling ou him for some
assurances that ho .-till is, and not lost for-
I over: but 1 cannot help uttering 'lt a uian
I IE, shall he LIVE again?' M'ere the woild
mine, I would give it to be re-assured on
this one point, upon which never in my life
before, ha? fallen a shadow of my doubt.'
Ah, mourning sister, that skeptical ques
tion which now tortures you, and has
tortured millions of bleeding hearts, was
an?wered to the weeping sisters of Bethany,
; ouce and for all.
A MODEL M OMAN.
Did you not say Ellen that Mr. B
is poor
j Yes he has only his profession
Will your uucie favor his suit?
No an 1 I can cxpoct nothing frotu hiui.
Then Eilen you will have to rcaign fash
ionable society.
No matter I sbali see ihc more of Fied.
You must give up expensive dress.
Oh Fred admires simplicity.
Y'ou cannot keep a carriage.
But we can have delightful walks.
Y'ou must take a small house aud furnish
it plainly.
Y'es for elegant furniture w>uld be out j
j of place in a cottage
Y'ou will have to cover your floors with
thiD carpe s.
Oh then I shaii hear his steps the sooner, j
I —Cayuga Chief.
REMEDYING A FINE.—An Irish weaver
just imported from the Emerald Isle, took ■
' his employer, in Kilmarnock, Scotland,)
! lately, the first cloth he bad woven since |
: his arrival.
Upon examination his employer detected
two holes in the piece, withiu half an inch
of each other, aud told him he must pay a
flue of a shilling for each Lole.
'An* plate your honor, is it the number ;
uv holes, or ho the s>ze uv them, tbat ye put
lite fine on us?' said Paddy.
'By the number of holes, to he sure."
'And a big ho'c and a small hole is the
. tame price?'
'Yes.'
•Then give me a bould uv tbat piece,'.-aid
Paddy.
It was h&Dded to biut, when, with his
fingers, he deliberately tore the two small i
holes into one, triumphantly exclaiming
'Be the piper that played before Moses,.
an' that'll save shilling, anyhow.'
The gocxl natured employer laughed
i heartily tithe odd experiment, and forgave
! poor Paddy his fine
VOL. 30. NO. 13.
FOBER HUMOR.
DEACON MARLOW was a sober fellow,and
we beard him say that he uerer laughed in
! church but three times in his life, and then
; he said be would defy a turkey to keep a
' straight fa.e.
1 was preaching one b'uuday evening,
when I noticed a one-eyed little chap, awav
i back in the corner, take a pin and piece of
| thread out of his pocket; bite the thread and
j theD poke it round towards the fiery whiskers
|of a person who sat iu a pew ahead, and
; then pretended to thread his needle. This
. he did several times.
Another tiiue I netiecd a young man,
with his head lying back and his mouth wide
i open, snoozing it off as comfortably as might
i be expected, when an urchin in the gallery
; above, deliberately, took out a chew o?
tobacco, let it drop, but instead of its
; entering bis mouth, as intended, it took
him slap ou t-he nose, just as / made use of
the sentence, 'And be caused the rain to
fail in torrents,* and being about half awa
| keoed, he slowly put his hand to bis face
and exclaimed, 'And ho what drops"'
Thirdly, while preaching from a text in
i tbo 11th chapter of the First Book of Kinga
1 made use of the semence, "and be bad
seven hundred wives," when an oldish chap
who was half awake, exclaimed audibly
enough to be heard all over the old church,
••J-e-e rusalem, it must hare cost Lira some"
thing for broomsticks, if they are all like
my Betty."
A GOOD O.N E—David Crocket happened
' to he present at an exhibition of animals,
some time ago, at least in the city of Wash
! ington, where a monkey secured to attract'
his especial attention, and he abstractedly
• observed'
"If that feil rw bad ou a pair of spec
tacles bo would look like Major Wright
| Ohio.'
The Major happened to be just behind
Crockett, and overheard the observation,
j and geutly tapped Davy on the shoulder,
laming around Daw verv formally remar
i kod—
r .1 he haugeti, Major, if 1 know whose
pardon to ask, yours or the monkey's.'
A j ily old darkey down South bought
j himself a new shiny hat, and when it com
menced raining he put it under bis coat.
>\ hen asked wby he did not keep bis hat on
be replied.
'!>e hat s mine, bought him wid niv own
; money; head longs tt massa; lot bint take
j care Le own property.'
A gentleman once asked the celebrated
Dr. Aberuethy if he thought the moderate
use of snuff would injure the brain.' 'No
, sir,' was Abernethy's prompt reply, 'for Do
man with a single ounce of brain would
ever think of raking snuff.'
'Mother J should not be surprised if our
iu-au got choked some day.*
by, my sou?'
•Because ner beau twisted bis arm around
her neck the other night, and if she bad not
; kissed him be wouid have strangled Ler
besides mother, he sits by bcr aud whispers
i to her and he hugs her.'
'A\ by, Kiward, Susan does not suffer
j that, does she!'
•Suffer that—goliy? she loves ;t.'
A QUESTION FOR LAWIERS —" Mr,
j Magistrate, 1 waut to ask you one question.
! Has a UIJD got a right to commit a nui
; sance?*'
"No, air; not even a Major."
'•Then, sir, 1 claim my liberty I wa 4
1 arrested as a nuisance—and as no man has
a right to ecmuitt me, I move for a noa
| suit.'
The question has been carried up.
SCSXE IX "THE HOUSE." —"My op
ponent, Mr. Fpcker, persists in faying that
he rs entitled to the floor. Whether this is
so or not, 1 shali not step to inquire. All
that 1 have got to say is,that whether he is
entitled to the floor or not, he'll get floored
if he interrupts me again.'
Here the gentleman from Bloody Creek
pulled op hi sleeves, and took off bis
ueek'-Ue.
WH AT Woitix F?>ROET.—RECENTLY one
of t'.i- must rrnouned pulpit orators, the
Abbey de Paguerry, observed in a sermon,
"W men, now a-days forget in the astoun
ding amplitude of their dress, that the
gate- oi heaven, are very narrow."
CCF""Mike, if you meet Pat, tell him to
make baste."
"Sore an, I will," said Mike, "but what
shall 1 tell him if 1 don't mate biru?'
Dobbs is a strong believer ia guardian
angels.' If it was cot for tbero, be asks,
what would keep people from rolling out of
bed when they are asleep.