BY DAVID OVEB.
stltf 1 of t ri|.
WHATMAKES VTOiMEX I
Not costly of era, nor queenly air;
Not jewele 1 hand, complexion fair;
Not grace!i:l form, nor lofty tread,
N'ot paint, nor curls, nor splendid head,
Not pearly teeth, nor sparkling eyes.
Nor voice th .t nightingale outvies;
Not bteaih aA sweet as eglantine,
Not gaudy geins, aor fabrics flu of
Not all the stoves of fasliiott'f Taart;
Nor yet the I>l mdisbinents of art;
Not one, nor all of these combined,
•Can make one woman true refined.
'Tis not the casket that wewrir.e,
But that which in the casket. lies;
These outward charms ihat please the sight,
Arc naught unless the heart be rigbt.
Site, to fulfill her destined end,
Must with ber beauty goodness blend:
Must make it her incessant care.
To deck hentelf with jewels rare;
Or priceless gcrus iuut be possessed,
In roK-s of richest beauty dressed;
Vet these must clothe tile Inward mind ,
in jmriit the most refined.
She d tb nil those goods combine
t'an man's r< ug.i nature well refine—
Haiti all s);e needs in this frail Kt'-
To tit tor mother, sister, wile;
He who possesses such a friend
Shout 1 cherish welUiil iifc doth end.
Woman, in fine, the mate should be,
i'o .sail with uiau o'er life's rough sea,
And when the stormy cruise is o'er
Attend him to fair Canaan's shore.
SONG FOR UARMLUS.
TUB i-LOrcii, THE RAKR AND THE HOB,
A song for Ihe grtidtfti j ist,
And the high ol i forest r#e,
A song for emit of ladies fair.
Out-floating an the 'reeze:
A song for the knightly halls of Spain,
With their chivalry long ago;
The plough, the rake, ana tne fide.
A shout for the .n iu of war,
Fiom the blood-red field they coroe;
They look Tot tiie world to rise with awe,
At the sound of th; lire and drum;
Haru! how the rabble cheer,
On hi l and in valley low;
We'll heed them not. for "our song shall be
Of the plough, the rake, and the hoc.
Oh, a farmer i,. the man of men,
With sinews like cords of steel;
With a kingly step and a flashing eye,
And a heart that is made to feel;
To feel the bounding of joy:
And throb at th- sight of, woe;
Then sing along for the noble knight
Of the plough,the rake, and the hoe.
Come forth, thou *Oll of toil!
The earth, like a bridemaid gij,
is putting a carpet of vendurc down,
If or tlie feet of the blue-eyed May
Come lorth, with a lavish hand,
The seed in the furrows sow;
Wli.b we g.iilvjoin inra cheerful song,
For the plough, the rake, and the hoe.
RATHER AMBIGUOUS.
A great many people fiud much diffi
culty in saying what, they mean—as much j
perhaps as some editors fir.d in meaning j
what lhay say. A certain wituess, in an
assault aud battery suit, we once heard mix j
things up considerably, in giving his ac" j
coutit of the affair. After relating how j
Dennis came up aud struck him, he pro
ceeded—
"So yec honor, I just hauled off and swi
ped bis jaw. Just then his dog cum along j
aud 1 hit hint again and dropped him."
"Hit the dog 1"
'•No, yer honor, hit Dennis- Aud thin .
1 up wid a stun and throwed it at him, and 1
it rolled over aud over."
"Threw a stoue at Deuuis?"
"At the dog, yer honor. And he got up
aud hit mc again."
"The c >g?"
"No, Dennis. And wid that be stuck
his tail betwixt his legs and ran off."
"Dennis*"
"No, tbo dog, and whin he came back
at ;ne, he got me down and pounded me, yei
honor."
"The dog came back at youl"
"No, Dennis, yer honor. And thaFu
all I did to him, yer honor, and he isn't
hurl any at all."
"Who isn't hurt?"
"The dog, yer honor."
This testimony so befogged the case,
that the defendant was acquitted as a mat
ter of course.
Tj?"The Western papers say that the Illi
nois river has lowered a foot. When it low
ers the other foot we suppose it will cease
>0 run.
KF"A western editor, in dunning his
subscribers, says be Las responsibilities
thrown npon him which he is obliged to
meat.
A Weekly a?aper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., &c---Terms: Two Dollars per annum.
iMMb
WO&K FOR NOVEMBER.
•■"But here t lie Autumn melancholy dwells.
And sighs her beautiful spells
Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain.
Alone, alone,
Upon a tnoSisy stone
She sits and reckons up the dead and gone,
H Lit the last leaves toru love rosarv,
hi Ist all the withered wo; 11 looks drearily,
Like a dim picture air the drowned past,
In tlie hushed mitri s ruysteriou* far away,
Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the list
Into that distance, gray upon the gray."
Hoods picture of t lie Autumn is, in the
main, truthful, though the poets all have a
way ot overdoing things, throwing a beauti
ful mist about all things earthly, and making
them iook more shadowy and grand than
they appear in the sunlight. The fact is,
that the changes of the year come ou
so gradually, that the mind of the healthful
observer, receives no rude shock, and never
sets the sepulchral form of old Autumn sit
ting ou a mossy stone,au.l reckoning up her
| losses with sombre visage. All that melan
choly business is left to poets, languisbiug
tuaiiiens, aud other idle people. There is
indeed, a cnange, but wo hardly note it
from day to day.
The leaves upon the maple and ash in the
forest begin to bronze, even before the frost
touches theui, so that the glorious drapery
of (rummer iblW sdtue Of its freshness be
fore Auiutuu comes. The song of birds is
• broken, and fhitiij'a Voice is missing from
■ toe forest choir, before tne full Autumn soug
!of the insects fills our ears. Tim first frost
is upon tire. lwLands aud iu th" valleys, and
. our eyes grow familiar with the russet corn
• icaves, and the withered flowers, long be-
I fore the verdure upon the plains aud Litis
! begins to fail. The golden rod and asters,
purple cud white, mauitiufi their freshness
; and bfoo:'.;, eveu alter the frosts. The mor
j ning air is, indeed, chill, but tho middle of
j the day Las stijl a Summer glow, so that we
' hardly teaiizc the Sun""— \
' pjbc**i Wrt HH.lijt) o*MP V-a"
forest landscape, growing more brilliant day
by day, but so silently that wo wuuder whets
th* change was made, even in the greatest
blarrmry of the gorgeous sceue. W'e miss
the songs and flowers of Summer, but are
hardly that Autumn is at all som
bre or woman'sh, The season rather seems
to us as a hale, well-conditioned fellow, a
little old indeed, but hearty, and dispensing
favors with a freedom and fullness that in
dicates a joyous heart and sound health.
The farmer has certainly no occasion to
brood over the dispensations that eome to
him in November. His fowls have brooded
to so good purpose that he will find it up- j
bill business to wear a long face if lie tries. 1
Look into the poultry yard. What a crow
ing of youug cockerels, flush with juvenile
courtesies to their feathered mates ! What
a strutting aud cluckiug of turkeys, jubilant
and uusuffiecting of the fate that awaits i
them at the approaching Thauksgiving, or 1
the remoter Christinas' What cackling of
geese and quacking of docks, all sleek and
beautiful, full fledged for Winter. The
death of tlia insects, if he deplore them, has
been a large gain to his featherd tribes.—
He cannot feel very uncomfortable at the
loss of their snugs. Look iuto his grana
ries. What bins of wheat and cribs of eoru
are Stored away, like piles of gold. Look
into his cellar. What heaps of roots, au
ample supply for man and beast, for the
long Winter mouths. Surely, it is not for
this man to see in Autumn a moping old
htdy, shivering upon the brink of the grave.
Such visions may do for Wali-street, and we
should not wonder if many of the dreamers
there, in these tiiuea of panic and falling of
stocks, were not turning to the farm with
loDgtng eyes, and bewailing the day they
quit the plow. To many of them
• 'The melancholy days have come—the saddest
of *the veur."
Hut iliu farmer lias something to fall bsiek
upon besides bank stock. lie has no notes
to meet at 3 o'clock P. M., and be has no
uneowfortable apprehension of moving out j
of a palace on account of bis failure iu bu
siness. His bank of earth is still good, and
bis shares of plow are still above par. They
have brought in & glorious divideud this
year, when so tuauy other shares have pro
ted failures. He has a stock of bread on
band for bis family for a whole year, beeves
iu the stall, and fat porkers in the sty.—
Cotue what will, the city must buy of him.
His is a legitimate trade, that the world
cannot get along without. Tho farmers'
calling cannot fail to rise in the world's es
teem in these times of revulsion and ruin.
If the crash shall only open the eyes of
men, and convince them that we have too
many traffickers, and too few producers,—if
iit shall lead multitudes to return to the
1 plow, and to eulivate the millions of untit
led acres that lie waste upou our sea-board,
| the panic will be an infinite gain to the
■ country.
Farmers should be the last class to hang
or drown themselves this month, while so
many in the city are looking back to their
condition, with a perfect. longing for their
leeks and onions If they have aver had
thoughts of quitting the farm, we advise
them to take counsel of a city merchant,
and revise their plans. They should settle
down into the happy convhniou that they
have the noblest and most independent cal
ling upon earth, the greatest occasicu to
thank God for tLeir present lot, and to take
courage for the future.
Pt: n MAN EN T IMPROVEMENTS.
They should turn ovor a new leaf tiiis
Fall, and begin to make their plans for a
lifc-loise of the aetes they now occupy. It
is oue of the gieatest drawbacks to our
husbandry, that uobody seems to be settled.
Every man upon the farm, almost, has his
ideal of a farmer's homo away out West.—
He i* not seeking to realize it in his pre
sent position. He lives, every year, as if
lie might sell out aud move iu tho Spring,
He dues not repair tha house or barn, he
does not set out a* orchard, he docs not put
a new wi.ll or fence around the garden. He
makes no investment that will not bring in
its return tun preseot season. This course
is ruinous to the land* and to tbeptcuuiary
interests of its proprietor.
Farmers ought to work their fields, and
buiid barns to save their mauurcs, as ii they
expected to oceupy them for life. The?
are qnito as certain to get a fair . price for
their improvements as for the old acres un
improved. A purchaser will be influence!
in hii views of th v.-ilne of tha property by
its present productiveness. A meadow
yielding three tons to the acre, is worth
more ihi it three times as nWoh as one yield
ing but one ton to the acre. Tt will not
cost three times the present value ol the
ian 1 to make it tbi e times as productive.
A farm that furnishes the materia! tc make
five hundred loads of manure, will sell much
better thn one where but one hundred is
made-. The air of thrift that hangs about a n
tftiflly -A ; H{- as ... 4l
ses the .xpeetattonb oi Am,*—"!- 1 ,
flatters himself that he can manage quite as
well as tho present occupant.
HEWOUEttSO THE OLD BARS,
or building a new one, will tbeu certainly
be good policy this Full, if you have uot al
ready attended to it. Consider how many
hundreds of loads of manure, what tons of
ammonia have been wasted m the old estab
lishment, and put a stop to this large leak
in your ship, it is an old affair, but the
timbers are yet sound, aud by moving it a
few rods yon may put tinder it a cellar, and
nrovi.ie nir.ch better accommodations for
your Stock. Enlarge it if necessary, so
that every auimal may have shelter for the
Winter. It is now simply a planked build
in 2, letting in all the winds at the eraoks.
It must be newly covered aud made tight,
so that you can command the circulation of
the air with a ventilator. Remember that
wiuteriug cattle at the stack-yard is as
wasteful as it is barbarous, costing at least
a fourth more of fodder to carry an auitual
through. Let this reproach of our hus
bandry be wiped out henceforth.
If the old barn is rotten iu its timbers,
puli it dowD, aud build anew. Consult ]
some of your neighbors who have a good
baru, for a plan, and make such additions
as your location and the style of your farm,
iug suggests.
ONE BARN TO A FARM
Some farmers err in baviug too many
barns scattered about their premises. Some
of thorn are a # half or three-quarters of a
milo from the house, and in the \\ inter, they
have to take u journey twice, daily at least,
iu the cold to fodder the cattle. Tuis is a
great waste of labor, aud the cattle usually
suffer from neglect unless the owner scos to
the feeding in persou- One barn indeed in
volves a good deal of carting of bay aud of
manure, but this is a small evil iu compari
son with having tho cattle at a distance in
'the winter. Stock, in order to do their best,
should uot only be housed in winter, but
should be fed thrice daily, aud at tegular
hours. Much of the fodder is wasted if
they are fed at longer intervals. If fed at
irregular hours they suffer hunger, and be
oome impatient. To lay on flesh or fat
kiudiy, they should be kept quiet iu the in
tervals of foddering. If theso euds ire to
be sought, all the stock should havorooui
in the home barn, aud should be und<r the
eye of the owner every day.
THE CARTING OF MANURE
may be saved, in part, by making a po;tiou
of yor.r compost epon tho fields where you
desigu to use it. The meadow, f<r iu.
stance, that you design for corn next sson,
may be furnished with muck heaps fc 'ho
making of compost this Fall. Hie tfinuro
may he drawu to theso heaps and uiixui now,
or early in April, if covered
with the muck and protected from wishing,
the manure will lose little of its Vwie, and
the work in Spring will be hastened
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY. NOVEMBER C. 18-57.
THE PIG STV
should now have your attention erery day.
Feed regularly, and keep your porker 3 well
supplied with muck and litter. A constant
and full supply of food is essentia! to ma
king cheap poik. Is your piggery dry and
warm, and luxurious in i*s clean rye straw!
A MULCH FOR THE STKAWHKRKT BED.
We have found the hardiest varieties of
this ftuil to do better with a winter cover
ing. It should not be too thick. Leaves
mat down so closely, that under the snow
they prevent all ventilation, and the vines
are killed. Old bog hay, or straw, will an
swer a good purpose. Dry sea weed is also
an excellent covering. The boughs of ev
ergreens, where they are convenient, afford
a sufficient protection;
THE RASPBERRY CANKS
are best protected by a covering of earth.
This is so little trouble that is not a
strong objectiou to a good variety ihat is
only haif hardy or tender, lie must, be a
lazy cultivator who grudges tbR trouble of
putting a few inches of dirt upofi his rasp
berry caucs. Ihe stools should be thinned
out To al out four canes. The smaller shoots
may be takeu up to make uew jdantations
ef, or to .sell, or give away to your neigh
bor*'.
; 1 ■ .<w v
-7 HAT ORCHARD FL
should •certainly be planted this Month. It
is too bad that you had tiot th% five hun
dred barrels of apples to sell tbiVFalJ, when
they are in such demand. But It is never
too Lite to learn, and you shou)<|dearn wis
dom now, and be ready for the tjext year of
scarcity. T hey wt.l always pay whenever
you can.get good fruit, and somtorears they
will pay better than anything L Upon the
farm. Aotieu the olt-repeated • directions
fir tree-planting in the JlgricuhitroHsf, and
put out good-sized, thijty, ap
ple trees iu ymr orchard. J";
THE ROOT HARViA*
should not bo delayed much lorjfep. Beets
should go in immediately, flflU*£ifp£oi
wurtzels, ifyo.. -Jtaga.,
should he harvested by the middle of the
month.— .Jmcrinn .VgricutTurisl. '■
JOHN 31 ITCH£L DOWN SOUTH.
J oil 11 Mitcbel,. tint "Irish patriot, 5 ' was
exiled from his native country to Botany
liay, on account of his love of liberty: and
it would seem that the wisdom of the
English Government iu selecting that re
mote region with the view of curing its
subjects who happen o bo afflicted with
a fanatical zeal in behalf of freedom, was
fully Verified in his case So complete
was the revolution produced iu his senti
ments, that he actually begin to sigh for
"a plantation stocked with fat negroes."
Suffering his imagination to run upou this
meal of a terrostiial Paradise, his whole
soul was at length absorbed au it, until his
honor fell au easy prey to the common en
emy of souls. Ile violated his parol, or oath
which bound him as a gcntleuiau and man
:of honor to keep within certain bounds;
he fled to the United .States, and immedi
ately set up a newspaper iu New York,
which was specially devoted to the advo
cacy of the rights of the Irish and the
wrongs of the negroes. The paper was
a had speculation, and he forthwith took
up a bee-line for Alabama; but, from
| rome cause which wo are unable to ex
! plain, he has halted for a while at Knox-
I villo, iu Tennesseo, where he proposes the
j establishment of another newspaper, sim
[ iUrtobi* New York Citizen, with theaddi
! tionai feature of advocating the revival of
■ the African slave trade.
But notwithstanding these signal evi
dences of the Irish patriot's devotion to j
the South, he lias actually been kioked '
and cuffed, bullied and brow-beaten, on '
Southern soil, by a Southern editor. Was
such ingratitude cvci heard oft Is tbx •
South run mad*
The facts are simply these: Mr. Mitcbel,
had subjected himself to the criticism of the
editor of the Knoxville Register, by some |
lectures ho had delivered in that place, the
nature af which we have not been made ac
quainted with. The criticisms induced
Mr. Mitcbel to attack the editor in - the
street with his cane, which broke at the
first blow, and resulted iu somewhat of a
drubbing to the assailant, which would
have beeu still uioro severe but for the in
terference of the police.
But the editor, not satisfied with the
advantage he had gained, armed himself,
and took an early opportunity to salute
bim of the Emerald Isle with sUeh com
pliments as are implied in the terms "cow
ard," "scoundrel," etc., and at tho same
time, dared him to a fair fight on equal
terms. Now, mark the good man * Mr.
Mitchel, who had seen his error, though
happening to have a pistol in his pocket
at the time, meekly walked away in peace,
as beseems u good Christain, when ac
eosted with railing aiwtu tat ions.' There
is au example for Southern meu, but they
will not heed it. Alas! it is casting pearls
before swine.
We begin to doubt whether Mr. Mitchcl
will ever get possession of the plantation
and fat negroes, and whether there be
really any gratitude extaut south of Maspu
and Dixon's line.— Washington Republic.
A TJIKILLIAG ADVEXTI'RE.
TIIC PIO.YKr.It S KASTSIIOT.
We quest iou whether in all the history of
■hair breadth escapes,' a paralled to the fol
lowing can easily be found. The story was
told us by an old valued friend now residing
in the country near this city, but whose ear
ly days were spent near the scene of the tra
gic adventure here recorded.
We give the story as related to us, iu the
words of the hero.
"It ws about the yarti" 1765 that I set
tled in \ irgt&'a, near the fails of the Ca
nawba. The eountiy at <that time was an
unbroken wilderness. But few settlements
had been made then by the whites, and they
were so fur apart as to render vain all the
hope of assistance, in case of an attack from
hostile luJiatis—a number of whoat still in
fested the neighborhood.
"I lived here alone with my wife for sev
eral months unmolested, and by dint of un
tiring perseveranoe, being then young and
hardly, had succeeded iu making a quite
large clearing in tiie forest which 1 bad plan
ted wish corn, and which promised an abun
dant yield.
"One morning after we had dispatched
our humble uieal, and 1 had just prepared to
venture forth upon my regular routine uf
labor, toy attention was arrested by the tink
ling of a tow bell in the corn-fieid.
"There,' said iny wife, 'the cow is in the
corn-field.
"But the car of tho backwoodsman be
comes by education, very acute, especially
paTu.tf ou Hie tJTce" "CitrtiHYnm ot :nm
sense. I was not easily deceived, I listened
—the sound was reflated. That,' said 1,
in reply to the remark of nty wife, 'was not
the tiukle of a bell upon the neck of a cow.
It is a decoy from some Indian who desires
to draw me into an ambush.
"Believeing this to be the case, I took
down my old musket, (I had no rifle) and
seeing that it was prflperly loaded, I stole
cautiously around the field towards the point
from which the souud seemed to proceed.—
As 1 had su.-pected, there, in a cluster of
bushes crouched an Indian waiting for me
to appear iu answer to his decoy bell, that
he might send the fatal bullet to my heart-
I approached without discovering myself to
him, until within good sbootirtg distance,
then raised my piece and fired. The bullet
sped true to its mark, and the Indian fell
dead.
"Not kuowing but that lie might be ac
companied by others, I returned with all
j speed to my cabin, and having firmly barri
' caded the door I watched nil day from the
port hole, in anticipation of an attack from
, tho companions tvf the Indian I had killed
i To add to the danger, and seemingly hope
! lessness of my situation I discovered that I
; had hut one charge of powder left: 1 could
make but one shot, and then, if attacked by
numbers I should be Entirely in their power.
Determined to d) my best wiih what I had I
j poured iu my iust charge of powder and put
! into my musket, fifteen slugs, and then wait
j ed for theapproach of night, felling confident
1 of an attack.
"Night came at length. A beautiful
moonlight night it was too, and this favored
ree greatly, as I would be able to observe
the movement of the enemy as tlicy approach
ed my cabin. It was two hours after night
fall, and as jet had neither seen or heurd a
sigu of the Indians, when suddenly I was
started by tho baying of my dog at the sta
ble. I luiew that the Indians were coming-
The stable stood a little to the west of the
cabin, and between the two was a patch of
olearcd ground, upon which the light of the
full moon fell unobstructed. Judging from
the .noise at the stable that they would ad
vance from that direction, I posted myself
at the port hole on that side of the cabin.
"I had previously placed my wife upon
the cross-pole in the chimney, BO that ia
ease our enemies effected an entrance to the
cabin she might cliiub out through the low
chimney and effect her escape. For myself,
I had determined not to be taken alive, and
resolved to sell my life dearly.
"With breathless anxiety I watched at
the port hole. At length I saw them emerge
from the shadow of'the stable and advance
aaross the vacaDt ground towards the cabin.
One—two—three—great heavens! six stal
wart Indians, armed to the teetb, and urged
lon by the hopo of revenge. And I alone t 0
I oppose them with bnt one charge of powder
My ease was desperate, indeed. With quick
yet atealthy step in clQse single file they ap. ■
proached, and were already within o fpw
yardfloof the house, when a slijbt divergence '
in the movement of the forward fiidtdn/T
changed the position of (he entire six; ao •
that a portion of the left .side of eaob wis '
| uncovered. They were all in range—one ■
1 aim would cover ell. Quick as thought, I ;
ir i ' j
; aimed aud fired. As the smoke cleared away
j I could hardly credit what my senses show. '
ledme as the result of my shqti The fifteen '
1 slugs with which I Ud loaded my musket
j had done their work well. Five of tbe six
; Indians lay dead upon the ground and the
I sixth had disappeared.
'•Although no enemy was now in sight, I '
I did not venture forth until morning. There '
lay the bodies of the five Indians, uudisturbi.
Ed, together with the rifles of the other. Se- !
curing the arms and ammunition of the fal-!
len Indians, I followed, up the trail of ihe I
missing oqc, until it reached the river, be- •
yond which point I ouuld discover no tiace !
wltktevtr. From the amount of blood which j
marked the trail, together with the unmis- j
takable evidence that he had picked his way :
with difficulty, I was led to believe that he I
had been mortally wounded and in order to
1 prevent his body from falling into the bands
of his white foe, had groped his way to the
river and thrown himself into the ourreut
wb'ch had borne bint away.
'•The Indians had killed my cow, and }
that you may be assured was no trifling loss
yet in my gratitude for my escape from the |
merciless savages. I would have been cn- !
Urety willing to have made much greater '
sacrifices. I was well provided (by means j
of arms and Ommnnition taken froth the i
slain Indians, ) in case of a second attack,
but this fortunately proved to be my last j
adventure with the savages. .Not one cf!
the band had escaped to tell the tale, and '
incite bis brcthreu lo avenge the death of'
his comrades.
'•Alt!'' exclaimed the old man, while the
feats gushed from bia eyes at the memory
1 .was x elnricns ,
The herb oi this adventure lived to sec Tj
the rude wilderness where ho had pitched ,
his lonely cabin, transformed into smiling
fields, and peopled by hardy and enterpris
ing pale faces, among whom bis last days i ,
wore passed in peace and plenty, undisturb- j
ed by old tiiuo foes.
THE RELIEF BILL.
The Rel ; ef Bill, as it passed both houses,
says the Philadelphia Inquirer, is by no
means such a measure as was desired, but
at a crisis like the present, it will not do
to he too captious, and hence wo trust that
all the parties interested will endeavor to
make the most of this iueasapv The time
fixed for resumption, the second Tuesday in
April, is entirely too soon. It should be
remembered, however, that another legis
lature will assemble meanwhile, so that any
modifications that may be deemed essential,
can Le sought for at the hands of that
body. It is, moreover, not at all likely tbat
the baDis of Philadelphia will be called up
on to resume while those of New York con
tinue iu a state of suspeuSion. The lead
ing provisions of the Act" may be summed
up as follows: .
1. A suspension of speeiu payments is
authorized until tbe secoud Monday of
April, 1858.
2. Dividends, not exceeding six per cent
may be declared during the period of sus
pension.
3. The Act shall extend to the new banks
as well as to tLe old, and to Savings, Trust
and Insurance Companies.
4. After January next, weekly state
ments are to be made by all the banks.
5. The banks are to receive at par, in
payment of all debts, the notes of all the
solvent hanks of the Commonwoahh, which
paid specie prior to the first day of Septem
ber last.
G. Iu ease any President, or the majori
ty of the Board of Directors shall certify
that any Bank is in an unsafe condition,
Commissioners sbai! be appointed to make
an investigation.
7. The Collectors of taxes and tolls
throughout the Commonwealth are to re
ceive the notes of suspended Banks iu pay
ment of du.
8. In casesfof judgments, a stay of eve
cution may be obtained for the terir. of one
year from the date of ihe passage of this
act.
0. The banks in operation shall docide
within thirty days, whether or not they will
accept the provisions of the act, and if they i
accept, they shall pay into the Treasury of;
tiio Commonwealtli, on or before the first of
January, 1858, a sn*u equal to one-fourth i
of otto per cent, upon the cupital stock of i
each bank, in addition to tbe amount* i
which they arc now required by law to
pay.
10. The Legislature reserves the right to
alter or anrul the charter of any bauk or
- • fr-nrtlTTt-"
YOL. 30. YD. 15.
I-noks accepting the provisions l of this act.
11. No bank or Savings Institution can
purchase the notes of any incorporated
t/ank Of this State, at less thrtb tireir par
Valtie 1 . * ''' * '" Aii I
Vi. No stock, bonds, notes, Dr personal
; property hypothecated or held in plodge for
j credit or money loaned, can be sold for tho
; period of six months after tho passage of
, this Act without the consent of thg debtor
' or party hypothecating.
13. The notice required for payment
; provivled for in the Charters Savings Fund
j and Trust Companies, is extended for tho
period of two months, in ail sums exceeding
one hundred dollars.
It *vtii be seen irotn the foregoing out
line, that some of tne provisions of tho bill
are quite remarkable. Bur, a J reii( ty j n _
'imated, the gcd and the bad must be ta
keu together, and the banks and ail other*
concerned, must govern themselves accord*
ingl). Tue measure was intended as a re
lief measure, not ouiy for the banks, but for
the business community at large, and such,
wc trust, i: will prove. Lu our ;nouetary
institutions pursue at ©nee a bold, manly
j uud liberal course, and all wiil soon be well.
They should take the lead in affording as
sistance, and thus revive public confidence.
Stephen 4(ten's Pocket Plec*.
Iu the pocket-hook of the Hon. Stephen
Allen, who was drowned several years ago
by a steamboat disaster on the Hudson riv
er, was found a printed slip, apparently cut
from a newspaper, which the following is a
copy :
"Keep good company or none. Never
lie idle. If your hands cannot be usefully
employed, attend to the cultivation of your
miud. Always speak the truth. Make few
promises. Live up to your engagements
Keep your own secrets, if you have any
\T hen you speak to a person, look him ia
the face. Good company and good conver
sation are the very sinews of virtue, trood
character is above ail ur
■ gcter • rro,V<
eVil of you, let your lite be so that do one
will believe it. Drink no kiadof intoxica
ting lirjuors. Ever live (misfortune except
ed) within your income. When you rotirs
to bed, think over what you have been do
ing during the day. Make no haste to bo
rich, if you would prosper- Small and
steady gains give competency with tranquil
ity of mind. Never plav at any game of
cliauce. Avoid UmptatioD, thro' fear you
may not withstand it. Earn monev before
you spena it. Never run into debt unless
you see away to get out again. Never bor
row if you can possibly avoid it. Do not
marry until you are able to support a wife.
Never speak evil of any oue. Be just be
fore you ate generous. Keep yourself in
nocent i? you would be happy. Save when
you arc young, to spend when you are old.
Bead over the above maxims at least ooce
a week.
The Fall River Monitor tells the follow
ing good story:
"A countryman (fanner) went into a store
iD Boston the other day, and told :be keep
er a neighbor of his had entrusted him with
some money to expend to the best advan
tage, and he meant to do where he would
be best treated, fie had been used very
weil in Boston by ( he traders, and he would
not part with his neighbor's money until he
found a man who would treat him about
right. With the ntiuost suavity the trade r
says:
'I thiuk I can treat you to your liking.—
How do you wish to be treated?'
'ln tbe tiist place I want a glass of tod
dy,' which was forthcoming.'
'Now I wili have a nice cigar,' says the
countryman.
It was promptly handed hira, leisurely
lighted, and then throwing himself back,
with bis feet as high as his head, be com
menced puffing away like a Dutchman.
'Now, what do you want to purchase''
says the storekeeper to the countryman.
'My neighbor handed me two cent s when
I left home, to buy hioi a plug of tobacno,
have you got the article?'
Tbe storekeeper sloped instanter, and tbe
next thing that was heard of him, was that
his sides were shakiug and bis face on fire
with laughter, as he was velating the. sail to
his friends down town."
3o?""Open your heart to sympathy, but
close it to despondency. The flower which
opens to receive tbe dew, shuts against the
atorin.
[EF'Tha soieneo of getting on well with a
woman, is like violin flaying. It depends
p: iccipallv oa tire beauing.
says, that though "brevity is
tbe soul of wit,"'it is "no joke to b "short*
on "Vdta&g*.