flMWJJlisrfllanji.
BEKJ AMIS MAY S ENEMY.
it vinoiNiA r. xowNstsn.
A log cabin cut on the Western
plains, with snows that drift nnd drift
arouud it. Overhead a gray, dark sky
that seem.-, if you gaze up into it long
enough to get the spirit of its express
ion to hold sonic agony of despair or
death.
There is, however, a kind of wild
tronglifein the scene thnt lies be
neath spreading itself away from the
windows of that lonely log cabin,
otaDding there as a solitary witness of
human life in the midst of ihe wild,
white dreariness of the plains.
Perhaps the little girl feels thia.
She is not old enough to conscious
ly think it the little girl with a thin
sallow face, which somehow suggests
fever and ague, flattened up against
the pane, looking out with a singular
alert wistfullness over the wide, white
plains and through the rushing gusts
of snow until her gaze touches the gray
horizon nfar off.
Tho w inds came in furiously from
tho cast liko the roaring of tides, or
the trampling of battalions of armed
men, and dash down with fierce roar
mid cry on the thick clcuds of snow,
flakes, and hunt and drive them back
and forth, and toss them apart, and ride
back and forth over the plains, uiak.
ing of the air ouo vast trumpet through
which they shriek their choruses of
victory.
Inside of the cabin, a man's voice
asks suddenly 4 Bessie, child, has no.
body came in sight yet ? ' A man's
voice. I said and yet struck through
with some pain and bollowness, which
juade you feel that it's words were
nearly ended.
No, father,' answered the little girl
drawing her thin sallow face away from
the window, there is nothing to be
eecn but blinding snow'
' Hark ! don't you hear something t '
paid the hollow voice breaking iu here,
shary, hungry, impatient.
4 No, father ; the wiud blows and
blows ; that is all.'
Tho tones were those of a girl, but
there was nothing in tho low, dreary
voice that was )ikc girlhood. Then
the speaker turned to tho fire, placed
some fresh wood on the embers, and
came back to her watch by the wiu
dow ; dreary work enough tor any age,
but doubly so to one whose life had not
covered its fourteenth summer.
The room had a genet ally comfort
less expression. Yet there was not,
after .11, eo much lack ot material but
want of care discernible throughout
the apartment.
Ou tiu iicii iu iruu cuiuur lay mo
owner of the log-cabiu. Ono look iu to
the shrunken face, the hollow eyes all
lying in that shadow of ashy pallor,
and you would have been certain the
man had laid himself down to dio, and
that the one guest who coaies sooner or
later over allthrcshholds, had come uow
to that lonely lo. cabin out ou the
western plains.
None could know it better that
Josiah Keep, as he lay there, with the
winter storm howling outside, and the
years of his life coming up ono after
another, and standing with their sol
emn, reproachful faces before him.
For this roan's ,lifo bad not becu a
good one. I cannot go into the de
tails hero of selfishness which bad
marred, and passion which had dctil.
cd his days ; but the cud had come
now ; and the hard, strong, fierce will
had bowed itself at last before the sol
emn voices of conscience echoing amid
all the tumult of hi soul, as it glared
face to face with death.
There was one deed of Josiah
Keep's life which somehow troubled
hiiu more thau all tho others, aud
from it he in some sense dated tho
commencement of his wrong career,
although the self-willed, reckless, pas
sionate boyhood and youth had ripen,
cd into tho hard, selfish, defiant uuiu
hood. Here, too, it is sufficient to say that
he had overreached his partner iu a
manner which the law could not take
hold of ; ho had, to save his own for.
t'jno completely wrecked the other's
and the wrong had not ended there.
It had been the mc.i!3 of driving his
partner's young wife a flue souled
sensitive woman to maducss and her
grave.
Afterwards Josiah Keep had pros
percd for years, for ' sentence is not
always executed speedly against an
evil work ' but at last his goods and
possessions began to fall away from
Liin.
He had passod tho mciidan of his
lifo when misfortune overtook him.
Tlicn his wife and on3 and another of
his children died. Ill health came
upon the etrong man, and tho lonely
log. cabin on tlio plains, where he had
buried himself for a couple of years,
and tho ono little sallow checked
daughter who remained of all the brave
sous and fair girls who had called him
father, tell the rest of the sad story of
Josiah Keep.
In later life, the partner, whose
young life ho had so cruelly blithcd,
bad prospered on every baud a good
man, with a ripe tender nature, full of
broad sympathies, such as ono does
not often seo. Everybody said this of
Benjamino May.
And two or three weeks before, tho
hick man had learned through a neigh
bor that busiuess bad brought his for
mer partucr to the town nearest his
lug-cabin, aud oulv fifty miles away.
At first it seemed to him that the
world i tic II could not hiro him to look
iu the lac of one whom be bad to
iff' IU
.JOIIXG. HALL, Projnicior.
CURTIS W. BARRETT, PuUUhtr.
wronged ; but as tho end drew near,
and remorseful- memories crowded
fast upon him, this first feeling was
superseded by a great hunger and
craving to hear Bcnjamine May's voice
say that he forgave him, for God is
more merciful than men thought Jo
siah Keep.
So, two days before, he had hired a
neighbor to go in quest of Benjatniue
May, desiring the latter to come to
him, as he hoped for mercy in his last
extremity, and noi daring even then
to disclose his real name, lest tho old
bitterness should rise up in tho soul
of the other, and he would refuse to
grant what lie would deny to no other
man tho prayer of Josiah Keep.
So ho lay there with the tide of his
life going out, and tho lights burning
low, while tho storm shouted fiercely
outside, aud death and that young girl
watched by the sick man.
Bcssio,' he called at last and she
was at his side in a moment.
' How sick you do look, father,'
smoothing the iron.gray hair with ono
hand, and looking at him, her small,
sallow face full of a great pity and
grief, although Bcssio Keep had no
idea of that unseen presence just now
crossing the thrcshhold.
' Bcssio, poor little Bessie, what will
become of you 1 ' said tho dying man,
looking with a craving tenderness
which it seemed must have turned
stone to pity on the little girl.
Whatsoever his faults had been, he
had loved her, the last of his family,
tho delicate clinging, helpless child,
who still of all the world clung fast to
him in unwavering faith and tender.,
ucss.
Ah, never miud me, father, dear.
I shall got along well enough if you'll
only grow better.'
Tears strained themselves into the
child's eyes ; she put her cheek down
to her father's aud wondered that it
felt so cold, and drew tho coverlet
closer around him, and the storm
thundered on outsido, aud tho wind
nupppri white banners of snow .hroush
the air, and Josiah. Keep lay dying,
dying, dying !
Suddenly the child lifted hct bead.
4 I hear something, fathcOhat is not
like the wind,' she said ; it sound like
horses' feet aud she sprang to tho win
dow. 4 There, close at baud, toiling thro'
the beating wind and driving snow,
she saw a wagon with two occupants.
The men, worn out and half frczcu,
spraug from tho wagon just after Bes
sie's joyful bhriek, that reached them
above the howling of tho storm.
' They are here ! Oh, father, they
arc here ! '
A man a little past his prime, strong
and hale, with white hair about a face
which never left auy ono who studied
it a doubt of the heart beneath it, was
Benjamiuo May.
He cauio up now to tho bedside,
and wtih tho first glance at the iaoo
lying there, tho faco dropped, and
drawn in the ashy pallor of death,
Benjamino May forgot all the chill and
weariness which had possessod him.
4 My friend, I have como to bear
what you have to say,' lie answered,
bending tenderly over the dying roan.
Josiah Keep looked up in the face of
mau ho bad wronged bo vitally more
than a score of years ago. Despite the
cheerful, kindly couutenanoa thero were
lines that he had helped to carve.
' Do you know me ? '
Benjamiue May looked at tho gastly
face. Sorosthing familiar struck him
in tho sharp features. His memory
half cleared up, yet be shook his head.
I am Josiah Keep.'
Tho listener covered his face with
his hands a moaicut. Ah, dear
God ! ' ho said, but not lightly, evcu iu
the shock and horror of that moment.
1 I have sent for you, Benjamiue
May, to bear whether you will look ou
me, lying here, and say you forgive mc
for all the evil I once did you aud yours.
I want God's mercy now, and it seems to
me 1 cannot lay hold of any bopo for
that until I have first had yours.'
It was an awful moment for Benja
miuo May. All bis lifo long ho had
carried the fire of ono bitterness burn
iug down deep iu his soul. And now
tl.e wrecked hopes ot his early man
hood, tho fair, still face of the young
wife that he had lam down iu her grave,
fctling that Josiah Keep was her niui.
derer, rose up bo fore him, and his heart
throbbed a inumcut with the old fierce
ness of its youth. It was but a mo
incut. Thou he looked again on tho
face of his ancient enemy, und the
fearful craviug of those dyiug eyes was
' I forgive you tho wrong, gnid Ben
jamiue May, taking tho cold band in
his, ' and by so niujh as God's incrcy
it greater than tuiuo, uiay bo also fur
givo you.'
Tlicn thero eaino a pwift shriek, as
of a heart suddenly broken, a swift
shriek along with the last wurds of
Benjamiuo May. 4 Ah, fat'jer, you aro
not going to die aud leave me iu this
RID O WAY, PENNA,
dread ful world all alone all alono I '
moanoi Bessie Keep.
The dyitjg man lifted his head.
There is nobody to whom I can give
the child, Benjamino. Promise mo
that you will not leavo her hero to
perish, that you will take her away
with you, and place her in somo or
phan asylum promise mo quick bo.
fore I die.'
And Bcnjamine May lookod at the
small, thin figure, at tho sallow faco
within its cloud of bright, brown hair,
aud the awful angirsh stamped upon
it moved his soul to its depths.
His sons had grown to bo men, his
ono little daughter had followed her
mother home, leaving him a memory
of soft blue eyes, aud sweet smiles
dawuiug and flitting among dimples, to
haunt all his after life.
A great pity aud tenderness for this
child, orphaned, friendless, beggared,
came over him. lie put out his arm
and drew her to his breast he laid his
hand on the bright, floating hair.
' Josiah,' ho said. 4 1 will take the
child to my home to my heart. She
shall be to mc in place of tho daughter
that has gone, and I will be to her in
all things iu the stead of her father.'
A smile crept over the ghastly faco 1
sinking into death, ' Now I can believe
that God will have mercy upon me. Now
after this I can believe it,' inurtrurcd
Josiah Keep and they were tho last
words ho ever spoke.
And sobbiug and clinging to her new
father, with her face hidden away close
to the heart that would never fail her in
love and care, Bessie Keen had -Dt dar
ed to look upon the faco of tho dead.
But Benjamino May had ; and seeing
his ancient enemy lying low before him
aud remembering tho forgiveness
which he had carried out as precious
freight from tho coasts of timo to tho
shores of eternity tho man murmured to
himself, ' Except ye havo tho spirit of
Christ ye aro none of His.'
And it was this spirit which Bcnja
niiu May had shown to hi ancient
euemv.
m m
Evils of Gossip.
I havo known a'.country society to with
er away all to nothing under the dry-rot
of gosin only. Frieudship, once as firm
as granito, disiolved to jelly, and then
run to water, ouly because of this ; love,
that promised a future as enduring as
heaven and as staplo as truth, evaporat
ed into a morning mist, turned to a day's
tears only becauso of this ; a father and
son vere set foot to toot with tho fiery
breath of anger that would never cool
agaiu between them, only becauso of
this, and a husband and bis young wife,
each straining at tho fatal lash, which
in tho beginning had been the golden
bondage of a God-blessed love, sat
mourfully by tho sido of the grave
where all thoir love and joy lay buried,
and only because of this. I have seen
faith transformed to mean doubt, hope
to givo placo to grim despair, and chari
ty tako on itself the features of black
malevolence, all because of tho spell
words of scandal, and the magic mut.
torings of gossip.
Great crimes were great wrongs, and
deeper tragedies of human lifo spring
from its larger passions ; but woeful and
most mclaucholy aro tho uncatalogued
tragedies that issue from gossip and do
traction ; most mournful the shipwreck
ofteu made of noble natures and lovely
lives by the bitter words of slander. So
easy to say yet so hard to disprove
throwing ou the iouoccnt and punishing
as guilty if unablo to pluck out the
stings they never see, and to silence
words they never bear. Gossip ar.d
slander are tho deadliest aud crudest
weapons man has for bis brother's hurt.
All tho Ye.r Round,
Cold in the Head. When a per.
son takes a cold it will " settlo " in tho
head, throat, chest bowels or joints,
according to circumstances ; if iu tho
head, inducing unpleasant " stuffing up "
aud an interruption of the sense of
smell. An immediate and grateful re.
lief is experienced sometimes by apply,
ing a smelliug-bottlo (hartshorn) to tho
nose and keeping it thereuntil it begins
to be felt, then remove the bottle for a
moment at.d reapply as before ; this is
repeated seven ot eight times in tho
course of a few moments tho nostrils
aro freed and tho sense of smell restor.
cd. This same hartshorn gives almost
instant relief from tho effects of the
poisinous bites of all imects, vermin and
reptiles by bathing the parts bitten,
very freely. JliU't Journal of llealtk.
An exchango describes a bachelor as
14 a wild goose in the air, much abused
and as much euvied by tame geese in
the barn yard."
4'Sam, ore you ono of the. southern
chivalry!1" "No, massa, I' ono ot the
Southern shovelrv. I shoveled dirt at
the Dutch Gap Canal."
Bmnij Toy has returned to New York
from Europe, and willsoou begin I musi
cal tour,
SEPTEMBER 11, 1807.
Power or an txc.
Tho other day I was holding a man
by the hand a hand as finn in its tcx
lurc as leather, and bis sunburnt face
was as inflexible as parchment ho was
pouring forth a ttrado of contempt on
thoso who complain that they get noth-.
ing to do, as an excuse for becoming
idle loafers.
Said I, Jeff what do you work atf "
. 44 Why," said ho, 44 1 bought an axe
thrco years ago that cost mo two dol
lars. That was all tho money I had.
I went to chopping wood by tho cord.
I have done nothing else, and havo
earned rooie than SG00, drank no grog
paid no doctor, and have bought mo a
little farm in tho Iloosicr State, and
shall bo married next wock to a girl who
has earned 8200 since she was eighteen.
My old axe I shall keep in the drawer,
and buy mc a new ono to cut wood
with."
After 1 left him I thought to myself,
44 that axe and no grog f " These are
the things that m.ikn a man in the
world. How small a capital that axe
how sure of success with the motto,
44 No grog." Aud then a farm and a
wife the best of all.
Rip. When I used to keep store in
Syracuse, said Tom, the old man came
around one day, and he said :
44 Boys, tho oue that sells most 'twixt
now and Christmas gets a vest pattern
for a present.
Maybe we didn't work for that vest !
I tclj you there were somo tall stories
told in praise of goods about that time.
V.cX I'uc iailesL lalker, an? ibo one that
had more cheek than any one of us, was
a certain Jonah Squires, who roomed
with me. He could talk a dollar out
of a man's pocket when tho man intend,
ed to spend only a sixpence. And the
women bless you ! they just handed
over their pocket books aud let him
take out as much a3 ho wanted.
Ouo night, Jonah woke me up with
44 1 tell you, old fellow, if you think
that's got any cotten in it, T.'ll hrint
uou luf eueep ii was cut from and
make him swear to his own wool I
'Twon't wear out, either ; I wore a
pair of pants of that stuff for five years,
and they're as good now as when I first
put 'era on. Take it at thirty cents, and
I'll say you owo mo nothing. Eh ? too
dear ! Well, call it twcnty.eight. What
d'ye say 1 Shall I tear it ? All right j
it's a bargain."
Jonah was talking in his slocp. I
could hear his hand playing about the
bed clothes for an instant, and then
rip ! went something, and I had my
head under the blanket.'; "rfee?1 Cn2
Vuiseu with laughter, and suro that Jo
nah bad torn the sheet from top to bot
tom. When I woke up in tho morning
alas ! unkindest cut of all I fcund
thai the back of my night-shirt was
split from tail to collar band I
The knd op the Woru,D.-l)r. Cum
mings has several times predicted the
end of the world and fixed tho day for
it to come off, but his predictions al
ways aro falsified the world would, in
spite of bira, roll on its accustomed
course The doctor now, however, is
3etrminod to atone for the past, and
acknowledge that in bis predictions he
was mistaken. He says in revising the
calculations ou which he based the an
nouncement ot the world's end in 1867,
he discovered that he had overlooked
figures which add something like a quin
tillion of years to the race which this
mundane sphero has to run. This will
be gratifying information to those of the
doctor's deciplcs who havo been setting
their houses in order as a mark of prep
aration for the great event. A " quin.
tillion of years " is a comfortably remote
prospect, accordiug to prcseut reckon,
ing, and as 44 distauco lends enchant
ment to the view" everybody oan enjoy
tho soothing rcflcotian,
A man had received a large lot of
lobsters, fresh and lively, whon a boy
stood looking at the critters, accompan
ied by his dog.
44 Suppose you put your dog's tail be
tween the lobster's claws," said the
man.
44 Agreed," said the boy.
Tlio peg was extracted from the claws
and tho dog's tail inserted. Away went
the dog off homo, howling at tho squeeze
bis tail got from the lobster.
44 Whistle your dog back, yoa young
scamp," said the man.
44 Whistlo your lobster back," cried
the boy, and absquatulated. The boy
had a lobster supper that uight.
A suro cure for stammering, if you
say it fust :
44 Theopolis Thistle the thistle sifter
sifted a sifter full of unsifted thistles,
and if Theopolis Thistle the thistle sift
er sifted a sifter full of unsifted thistles
where's the sifter full of sifted thistles
that Thonolis Thistle tho thistle sifter
sifted."
44 Millions for le fence," as the nla
gcr said when a wrathy steer chased
Liu across tho field.
VOLUME SEYEX-NUMBER 27.
TERMS 150 PER AXXUM.
fittoriu'i Courtship.
Queen Victoria has written a book,
or at least a good prc of one, and care
fully revised tho remainder, on the
Chrly lifo of tho late Princ Consort, in
which there are somo singularly frank
and pleasant revelations of the inner life
and hcartwoik of loyalty. We find
two letters copied by the London corres
pondent of tho New York Timet which
will be read with interest, and deepen
the good will which is felt for the wri
ters in the minds of all right minded
people. Tho first is from Albert to his
grand mother, apprising her that the
matter between him and Victoria had
been arranged.
14 The subject which has occupied us
so much of late is at last settled. The
Queeu sent for me alono in her room a
few days ago, and declared to mo in a
genuine outburst to lovo and . aflectiou
that I had gained her whole heart, and
and would mako her intensely happy if
I would make her tho sacrifice of shar
ing my life with her, for she said she
looked on it as a sacrifice ; the only
thing which troubled her was that she
did cot think she was worthy of me.
The joyous openness of manner in which
she told me this quite enchanted mc,
and I was quite carried away by it. She
is really most good and amiable, aud I
am quite Bare heaven has not given mo
into evil hands, and that wo shall be
happy together.
44 Since that moment Victoria does
whatever she faucies I should wish or
like, and we talk together a gteot deal
about our future life, which she prom
ises me to mako happy as possible. Oh,
the future ! uues it not bring with it the
ihe moment when I shall have to take
leave to my dear, dear home, and of
you! I cannot thiuk of that without
deep melancholy taking possession of me.
It was on the 10th of October that Vic.
toria made me this declaration and I
have hitherto shrunk from telling you ;
but how does delay make it better t"
This is very charming, and quite in
cbtVrV,fpr -y. ''I1-- "lovf tc
still better wherein Victoria tells her
uncle, tho King of Belgium, all sbout
it:
Windsor. Castle, Oot. 15, 1839.
My Dearest Uncle : This letter,
will, I am sure, give you pleasure, for
you have always shown and taken so
warm an iutcrest in All that concerns
me. My mind is quite made up, and I
told Albert this morning of it. The
warm affection be showed me on learn
ing this gave me great pleasure, lie
seems pel lection, and I think that I
hav the prospect of very great happi
uess bcfoio roe. I love aim more than
I can say, and shall do everything in
my power to render this sacrifice (for
such in my opinion it is) as small as I
can. He seems to Lave great tact, a
very necessary thing in his position.
These last few days have passed like a
dream to mo, and I am so much bewil
dered by it all that I hardly kuow how
to write ; but I do feel very happy. It
is absolutely necessary that this determi
nation of mine should be known to no
one but yourself and to Uucls Earnest
until after the meeting ot Parliament, as
it would be considered, otherwise, ncg
lectful ou my part uot to have assembled
Parliament at once to inform them of
it.
Lord Melbourne, whom I have of
course consulted about tho whole affair
quite approves my choice, aud express
ed great satisfaction at this event, which
he thinks iu every way highly desira
ble. Lord Melbourne has acted in this
business as he has always done towards
me, with the greatest kindness and af
fection. We also think it better, and
Albert quito approves of it, that wo
should be married soon after Parliament
meets, about the beginning of Fcbru.
ary.
Pray, dcatest Uncle, forward these
two letters to Uncle Earnest, to whom
I beg you will enjoin strict sccresy, and
explain these details which 1 have not
timo to do, ami to faithful Stockmur. I
think you might tell Louise of it, but
none of her tamily.
1 wish to keep the dear young gentle
man here until the end of next mouth.
Earnest's siuccro pleasure gives me
great delight. He does so adore dear
est Albert. Ever dearest Uuele, youi
devoted Niece. V. K.
IE3&An Irish couuell r having lost
his cause, which had becu tried by three
judges, ono of whom was esteemed a
very able lawyer though the other two
was iudiffercnt, some of the other barris.
ters were merry on the ocoasiun.
4 Well now," s iid bo, 44 who could
bolp it, beu there are a hundred judg
es ou tho bunoli ? "
44 A hundred ! " siid a bystander ;
44 there were but three."
By St. Patiiek ! " replied be, "there
were one and two ciphers."
BJ&.Dcw is au invisible yapor, which
chilled by tho cool surfeees of flowers
bursts into tears over beauty that fades.
.sdrawkcad baer ot yaw cht si sihT
- -- 1 "5
ftc ft Woman.
Oft I've Loard n gentle mothp r,
As tlio Twilight hours hrgi n,
riemling witb n mm on lnty,
Urging him to bo a mnn.
Rut utito Irer Muc-cycJ dutiglitlicr,
Though with love's worils quite ns ready,
I'uintK tflie out the other day
"Strive, my dear, to bo a lady."
What's a lady? It is romelhing
Made of hoop?, and Bilks, and airs ;
Used to decorate the parlor.
Like the funcy rings and chairs !
Is it ono that wastes on n ov.!s
Every feeling that is human ?
If 'tis this to bo a lady,
'Tis not Ibis to be a woman.
Mother, then, unto your daughter
Speak of Bemctliing higher far,
Than to be mere fashion's lady
44 Woman " is the brightest star.
If ye, in your strong affection,
Urge your son to bo n true man,
Urge your daughter no less strongly
To arise and be a woman.
Yes, a woman '. brightest model
Of that high and perfect beauty.
Where tho mind, aud soul, and body,
I51cnd to work out life's great duty.
13c a woman; nimght its higher
On the gilded list of fume ;
On the catalogue of virtue
There's no brighter, holier namo.
Be a woman 1 on to duty ;
ltnise tho world from all that's low,
l'laco high in the social heaven
Virtue's bright and radical bow.
Lend thy influence to each effort
That shall raise our nature human;
Be not fashion's gilded lady
Be a brave, whole -souled, true woman.
Latest from the Bong Writers.
Tho man who 4 Dreamt I Dwelt fn
Marble Halls' has opened a marble
quarry there and is doiug a thriving bu
siocss i n getting out grave stones.
The author of 4 Carry me back to Old
Virginia' has opened a livery stable,
and is carried back in his own convey
ance whenever ho wants to be.
The tuan who sang 4 1 am lonely
since my Mother Died,' isn't quite so
lonely now. Tho old man married
r.gMn, and his f-tep-mother makes it
lively enough for him.
The author of 4 Life on the Ocean
Wave,' is gratifying his taste for the
sea by tending a saw mill. He will bo
on the water now.
The ono who gave the 4 Old Folks at
Homo' to the world has recently taken
them to the poor house, as they wcro
ncttina; troublesom".
x.ic'auinor or onctis iu rue ucean'
is in the clam business.
The man who wanted to Kiss him
for his mother,' attempted to kiss bis
mother for him tho other day, and bo
gave him a walloping 4 for his mother.'
The ouo who wailed so plaintively
4 Do they miss me at Home? ' was mis.
sod the other day, together with a
neighbor's wife. He was missed by a
wife and seven children.
Tho author of 4 Three blind Mico '
has started a menagerie with them.
The man who wroto 4 Fivo o'clock in
the Morning,' found that no saloous
were open at that early hour where ho
could get his bitters so ho lies a bed
rather late now.
4 Give me a cot in the valley I lovt,
has got a cot iu the infirmary. Meiu
Cott!
The man who sighed, 4 Tako me home
to die,' took Dr. Kcer's system llenova-"
tor, aud is now a 4 Fine old Irish gintle
uian.' 4 Meet me alone by Moonlight,' Las
left off meat, and taken to drink.
Tho author of 1 lioll on, Silver Moon,'
has opened a ball alley. Silvcs Moou
can't rjl 1 on his alley without paying
for it.
Tho disconsolate one who sin;,
'Have you seen my Maggie?' baa
heard of her. Another feller informs
him through the music storo, that 4 Mag.
gic's by my side.'
4 I'd offer thee this band of mine
has been sued for breach of promise.
Oh 1 Susanna,' has settled with her
at length, and dout owe Susanna any
more.
The author of the Old Arm Chair,'
is still in the fuiniture business.
Tho one who pleaded 4 Rook mo to
sleep mother, liock me to sleep,' has at
length been gratified. His mother yield
ing to his repotted solicitations, picked
up a rock and rocked him to sleep. He
hasn't woke up yet.
Tho one who asked 4 Who will care
for Mother now ?' has finally concluded
to tako care of the old woman himself
as no one else seems inclined to.
Dvi.nu, There is a dignity about
that going away alone, we call dying
that wrapping the mantle of immortali
ty about us ; that pulling aside with
pale hand the azure that are drawn
around this cradle ot a worlu . that ven
turing away from homo for the first
time in our lives; for we are not dead
thero is nothing dead to speak of,
and wo only go off seeing foreign coun
tiies not laid uowu on tho map we know
about.
Thfio must be lovely binds somo
where ttarwar(, for nono return that
f;u thichcr, and we very much doubt if
any would if they ouuld.
m m mn
The wounn who undertook to
scour the woo J-i, Las ababdoii-id the job,
owinsj to the hiyh price of soap. The
l.'.st that was hoard of her she was skim
ming the seas
Gen. Gil more post master at Ch!
rag.i was drowned en the 9th inst., iu
Lake Michigan.