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- Itity VV..
VOLUME XVIII
rievitioricLax.a.
THE SONG Op JOYFUMNs
',have painted the woods, Y have kindled the sky,.
have brightened the hills with a glance of mine
eye ;
I have scattered the fritits, I have gathereil the cern
And now from the earth must he verdure be torn
Ye lingering flowers, ye leaves of the spray,
I summon ye all—a Way !
iklo more from the depth - the - grovemay - be - heard
The joy-burdened song of its flutter ing bird;
' I have pissed o'er the branches that shelter him
there,
And their. quivering_drap
Ye - lingering-flowers, ye leaves of the spray,
I summon ye all—away ! away !
Plead not the days are yet ninny and long,
That your hues are still bright'aing, your fibres still
. .
strong;
To vigor and beauty, relentless am I
There is nothing too young or too lowly to die,
Ye lingering - flinvers ye eaves o t e spray,
I summon ye all—away ! away !
And 1 call on the winds that repose in the north,
To send their wild• voices in unison forth;
Let the harp of the tempest be dolefully strong—
There's a wail to be made, there's a dirge to be
sung ;
For the lingering flowers, the leaves of the spray,
They are doomed—they are dying, away! away
BREATH NOT BIS NABS,
r • ,
HT THOMAS MOORS.
Oh! breath not his name, let it sleep in•the shade,
Where cold and unhonored his relies are laid ;
Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his
head,
But the night-dew that falls. tho' in silence it weeps,
Ellen brighten with verdure thiF grave w~ieie he
sleeps
And the tear that We shed, though in secret it rolls,
Fhall long keep his memory green in our souls.
FrF --""ir2V-tN-7Z71
NOSES AND THE COLORED MAN.
Governor Andrew Johnson's speech to the
colored people of Nashville on the 24th ul
timo is fully reported by a correspondent of
the Cineinnstti Gazette, who says:
The part of the g'overnor's speech in which
he described and denounced the aristocracy
of Nashville I cannot hope to render proper.
ly; but there was one point which I must not
overlook. He spoke as follows:
'The representatives of this corrupt (and
if you will permit me almost to swear a lit
tle) this damnable aristocracy, taunt us with
our desire to see justice done, and charge us
with favoring negro equality. Of all living
men they should be the last to mouth that
phrase; and, even when uttered in their hear
ing, it should cause their cheeks to tinge and
burn with shame. Negro equality, indeed
Why, pass, any day, along the sidewalks of
High street, where these aristocrats, whose
sons are now in the bands of guerillas and
cut throats who prowl, and rob, and murder
around our city—pass by their dwellings, I
say, and, you will see as many mulatto, as ne
gro children. the former bearing an unmista
kable resemblance to their aristocratic own
ers !
"Colored men of Tennesse! This, too, shall
cease. Your wives and daughters shall no
longer be dragged into a concubinage, com
pared to which polygamy is a virtue, to sat
isfy the brutal lusts of slaveholders and over:
seers`!Henceforth the sanctity of God's ho-.
ly law, of marriage shall be respected in your
persons, and the great State of Tennessee
shall no more give her sanction to your deg
redation' and your shame!"
"Thank God thank!" came from the lips
of a thousand women, who in their .own per
sons had experienced the hellish iniquity of
the manseller's code. "Thank God!" fer
vently echoed the fathers, husbands, and
brothers of these women:
"And if the law 'Protects you in the pos
sessions of' your wives and children, if the
law Shields thoie whom :irdu hold dear from
the unlawful grasp of lust, will you endeav
.or to bc.true to'`yourselves and shun; as it
'were death itself, the path Of lewdness, crime
:and vice?"
"We Will I we' will I" cried the 'assembled
thousands; and joining ; in a sublime and tear
ful-enthusiasm, madder mighty shout went
up to heaven. •
"Looking at this Vast crowd of colored'peo
fie," continued the governor, "and reflect
min' through what a storm of persecution and
.oblequy they are compelled to pass, I am al
tmost induced to wish that, as io the days of
.old, a iMoses • might :arise, who should lead
theta.safely to their promised laud of free
dom and happiness."
4, You are our Moses,'" shouted several voi
ces, and thecxclaination - was caught up and
cheered until the capitol rung again.
"God," continued the speaker, "no doubt
has prepared. somewhere an instrument for
the •great - work he designed to perform in be
;half of this outraged-people; and in due time
. yourleader will corne.forth; your Moses will
tePtucaled-t0.y0u.." • -
"We want "tie: Moses you!" again slitint- j
eclthe crowd. ,
"I•Vell,%lietirAreilirisiheCWealte'r, "hum
•blesamituaworthy net int;iflito Other better
slialtbefoitida l -iltlindiadle 'your M:osieS
itiffr.s ' Ylds44"' f Or44o.l"giiii - j44.80 . .01 . wk.
4 1 41;44 14:3 1 1 , -41ter,futttic - ,ofliberty. and
peace. ' , speak now as entrihofeelsrelthe•
worldlier email% , filid3a2l' Who liofe
riglrtabitariends. - I Speak; too as a eitisen
of Tennessee.. I am here on my own soil ;
and - here-I mean to Atay and Rght , this great
battle of truth and justice to. a triumphant
end.. Rebellion and , slavery shall, by. God's
good, help ,no longer, pollute our ~State.":
It is - impossible to describe the• entiusi
asm*which followed these words. Joy beam.,
ed in i every t countenanee. , Tears and laugh
ter followed each other .in quick succession.
The great throng moved and- swayed back
and forth in the intensity of emotion; and
shout after shout rent the air.
'Father will bo done with the great chim
ney to.night, won't he mother ?' said little
Tommy Howard, as he stood Waiting for his
father's breakfast which he took_to-him-at
his work every morning.
'He said he hoped that all the scaffolding
would be down to night,' answered his moth.
er, 'and that will be a fine sight; for I nev
er like the ending of those great chimneys,
it is so risky for father to be the last up.'
'Oh, then, but I will go and see him, and
help them g ive him a shout before he comes
down',
said Tom.
'Oh, then,' continued the mother, 'if all
goes on right, we are to have a little frolic to.
morrow, and
_go into the country and take
• inn.- - spend all the day'
is shaken to air.
our dinner, an
woods'
'Hurrah 1' cried Tom, as he ran off to • his
father's place of work, with a can of milk in
one hand and some bread in the other. His
mother stood at the door watching him, as he
went merrily whistling down the .street, and
she thought of the dear father he was going
to and the dangerous work he was engaged
in; and-then-the heart - sought isstiiftiTefuge,
and she prayed to God that He would pro
tect and' bless her treasures.
Tom with a light heart pursued his way
to his father, and leaving him his basket went
to his own work, which was at some distance;
in the evening on h:s way home he went a
round to see how his father was getting a
long.
James Howard, the father, and a number
of other workmen, had been building one of
those lofty chimneys, which. in our manufac
luring towns, almost supply the place 'of all
other architectural beauty. The chimney
was of the highest and most tapering that
was erected, and as, Tom shaded his eyes from
the slanting rays of the setting sun, and look
ed up in search of his father, his heart sank
within him at the appalling sight. The scaf
fold was almost down, those at the bottom
Were removing the beams and poles. Tom's
father stood alone on the top.
He then looked around to see that every
thing was right and then waving his hat in
the air, the men below answered him with a
loud cheer, little Tom shouting as loud as
any of, their). As their voices died away,
however they heard a different sound, a cry
of horror and alarm from above.
The men looked around, and coiled upon
the ground lay the rope, which, before the
scaffold was removed, should have been fas
tened to the chimney, for Tom's father to
come down by ! The' scaffolding bad been
taken down without remembering to take the
rope up. There was.a dead silence. They
all knew it was impossible to throw the tope
up high enough to reach the top of the chim
ney or even if possible, it would hardly be
safe. They stood in silent dismay unable to
give him any means-of-safety.
And Tom's father. He walked around
and around the little circle, the dizzy height
seeming more and more fearful, and the solid
earth further and further from him. In the
sudden panic he lost his presence
. of mind,
his senses failed him. He shut his eyes; he
felt as if the nest moment he must be dash
ed to pieces on the ground below.
The day .passed as industriously as usual
with Tom's mother at home. She was al
ways busily employed for her husband or
children in some way or other, and to-day
she had been harder at work than usual get
ting ready for the holliday to morrow. • She
bad just finished her arrangements and her
thoughts were silently thanking God for the
happy home and ferall those blessings when
Tom ran in His face was white as ashes,
and he could hardly get the words out : mo
ther, mother ! he can not—ho cannot get
down!'
•
er. . .
'They have forgotten to leave him the
rope,' anewered Tom, still scarcely able to
speak. The mother started up, horror struck
and stood for a moment paralyzed, then
pressing her hands over her face, as if to
shut out the terrible picture, • and breathing ,
a prayer to God for help, she rushed out el
the house.
When she reached the place - where her
husband wag at work -a orowd .had gathered
around the foot of the chimney, and stood
quite helpless,gasing up with faces full-of
sorrow.
'He says•hell throw himself down.
He manna do that lad,' cried the wife
with a clear hopeful voice ; he manna do
that—wait a bit. Take off thy stocking.
lad, and unravel it, and let ' down the thread•
with a bit of morter. Do you hear me Jew?'
The man made a sign of assent, foritseem
ed as if he could not speak, and taking off
the worsted yarn row by row., . •
' The people stood' around in breathless si
lence and suspense, wondering what Tom's
mother - was thinking of, and she sent.
I Tom in such haate for the carpenter'sfiallpf
I twine.
'Let down one end. of_ the thidad with a bit,'
!of stone, and Iceep , fast ' , hold of the other:she
;cried.. The little thread,came waving down
Ithehigie!tinniey;hlosii hither and; thither
bY'the thelkit sitleehed .
!hands ;weit' , lrlitii3j, for ;it: !Tom ,hold;
the ball of twine,w,bilo,hui • 11 /0 1 4e;;Patqieqr
Jy tied one end of it te.thethread.
.'Now pull it, slowly,' she cried to her hue
!band atiih6"::gradnitly inwenticl 111'4 Suing
until it 'reached him: 'gill* 'holt the
• P.:Ck. ' 4.1 A • •
.
• 'N'ttalkillar -Ate.'iViisiPistio'igti 4 i I•Teljittoal iocolittoei adadt
A. THRILLING ADVENTURE
'Who. lad—thy father?' asked the moth-
KOKO, cOInsity ) ,ONSYLVANIA; FRIDAY M6RNINGi.
fast and pull, for Toin and his inother +ad
&stetted - 4 thick - _ tope to it. They' iviiiehed
it gradually uncoiling from the ground, till
there was but one — coll left; -- It had readied
the top. 'Thank God!' exclaimed the Wife.
She' hid het IfacC in - her bands in silent pray
er and tremblingly rejoiced. The iron 'to
which it should be fastened Wits all right--
but; would her husband be able to make use
Of it? Would not the horrors of the past
prevent him , from taking any of the necessary
means for safety? She did 'not know the
magical influence which her• few words had
exercised over him. She did not know the
strengh with which- the sound of her voice
so calm and steadfast had filled him—:-as
the thread that carried to him the thread of
life once mole had conveyed to him some
- frottiCif of that faith - in - God, which nothing
ever destroyed or shook in her pure heart.
She did not know that as she waited there,
the words.came over him . , 'Why art thou cast
down, omy soul, why art thou disquited
within me ?.hopo in God.' She lifted up her
heart to God for hope and strength, hitt could
do nothing for her husband, and her heart
turned to God and rested on a rock.
" There-was a great shout. 'Re's safe moth
er, he's safe,' cried Tom. 'Thou hest saved
me Mary,' said her husband, folding het to
his arms. .
'But what ails thee ? Thou seemest more
sorry than glad about,' But Ilary could not
speak, and if the strong arm of her husband
had not held her up she *ou 0 ••• • ; • a
the ground—the sudden joy after such fear
ban overcome her. 'Tom let thy mother lean
on thy shoulder,' said his father, 'and we'll
take her home.' And in their happy home
_they_poured_forth their thanks to God for
his great goodness, and their happy life — to=
gethr felt,dearer and holier for the peril it
had been in, and for the nearness of the dan
ger that had brought them unto God. And
the holiday nest day was it not indeed a
thanksgiving day?
oug in t
A Gxeat April Fool
The greatest April fool on record was Na
poleon Bonaparte. In 1810 he was in the
zenith of his power and glory aided by the
peculiar circumstances of the times—his own
military genius, and the good sense and
tact of his devoted wife Josephine; he had
risen from humble life to be Emperor of
France, surrounded with more power and
splendor than any other potentate of Europe
or the whole world. But with this he could
not be content. He began to look about him
and inquire to whom should he leave all his
power. Ile had made Kings of all his broth
ers eicept one, but he had no children, and
was not likely to have by Josephine. It was
well `known that she was a widow when he
married her, and ha..l two children, a son
and daughter by her first husband. The
daughter bad married Napoleon's brother
Louis. But there came no children to 'him
to heir his throne. What was to be done?
Wby just get divorced from his faithful' wife
Josephine, and marry some of the, young
princesses. This was 'done. and an alliance
made with the Emperor of Austria, and the
hand of his.daughter, Marie Louise, demand - -
ed in marriage. •This was granted, and on
the first day of April, (All Fool's day) 1810
they were married. In process of time a
son was born to him, poor wan, and he
thought his throne' established forever by
legitimate succession, and not only that, the
chances also were that in addition to the
throne of Franc; the lucky boy might pos
sibly inherit ti.e sceptre of the house of
Hapsburg and be ruler over both France and
Austria.
•
This was a glorious dream, and the sequel
proves that it was but a dream. A half
cen
tury has passed by since that marriage, and
many who remember the excitement and
speculation to which it gave rise at the time
can now look over the whole and note, the
results. Napoleon lost his throne, and died
an exile on the lonely isle of St. Helena.
Mary Louise, his favored young .Empress.
was also dethroned, and afterwards married
a count of no celebrity. The young Napo
leonill grew up to manhood and then died,
possessing no power at. the time. But who
sits on the throne of France—a Bonaparte
to be sure, but a descendant of Josephine
—a child of her daughter, who married Na
poleon's brother. Thus the very woman
-whom Napoleon cruelly thrust from him,
now has her posterity on the , throne from
which she was rudely driven—while there is
no child , nor family of her husband in the
land of the living. Isn't there retributive
justice in this?
NARRIED.—Look at the great mass of
marriages which take place over the , whole
world, what poor contemptible affairs they
are ' A few soft looks, 'a walk, a dance,, a
squeeze .of the hind, a popping of the ques
tion, a purchasing of a certain number of
yards of white satin, a ring, a clergyman, a
ride or two in a hired earriagn, a night in a
country inn, and the" whole matter; is over.
For six weeks:ttio sheepiablooking",persons
are seen dangling' en "each'ailier's ar m; look
ing at water fella, or: inakini 414; auffguz
zling wine and cakes,:thenYeierythintr 'falls
into the most monotonous routine, the wife
sits:an one: side; of the hearth,. the husband
at .the other; aud little quarrels, little . pleas
urea little cares and little children, gradual
ly gather around. This, is what ninety-nine
out of a,bundred:Snd to be, the delights of
love and.,matriniony. - „ , .
- • ,- 1'.•••••= ------ 7 ,1 •
If you wish tO',be o'fainte with the girls ;
generally; ;ittentrtO,Aeir, wants, - that.is, give
thew rides, candyatill reisini . 4,,n4,tind laugh
sheet love affair 444: keep p on iho Off' side,that, is, 'don't coMMit, yeorself;to, any ,oeeAcr :
particular, and "you, will ,,lionized to-your
heart's ientent till 4pti.becorne,an bacht
MOO f l ippant,: and nOnsensical.,,n
yiung, man
the( better - will he'atteeead. They prefer fools
to wise men.
i,it 000.00 'ti,thiOtitiN's
X glory in the.sagesv' ' :,••; •
Who; iii.tbo.days ,of yore, • • s •
conallat „met the fsenseu r „
— And drove them firm 'our allots
Who flung our' banner's starry field
fiziriiiinphio the 'breefe,
Ari , l spread broad maps ofc ities where'
Once *eyed the ferest trees.
Hurrah I
glory in tha spirit
Which
,gomied them to rise
And found a mighty nation.
Deno ath the wee em e • les.
No clime so bright and beautiful
As that where seta the 'sun;
No land so fertle. fair and free,
As that of Washington.
Hurrah!
Whet* They - nest.
Once more I am among the graves.. There
is a sad • satisfaction—in—beinvhere:—Here,
while I muse, fey soul rises to a welcome con
sciousness of the purity and loveliness of af
ection--Which-- may - be found in this dark
World. There is woe and Sin,. but there is
also love, worthy of Heaven and the undy
ing I , Death sanctifies affection, and teaches
what depths there are in the human soul, and
how_God-like are its ties—too weighty for
to sever. Notice this grave. The sod
has been carefully displaced, and it is cover
ed with blossoming plants. Here; imparting
their fragrance to, my breath, are its snowy
blossoms of the white rose. Here are also
violets, beautiful pinks, and a "month - ty rose,"
out its crimson bloom. But you
could not fail to notice, before any or all of
them, the large bouquet, the flowers of which
are yet unwithered. How the stricken heart
yearns over its lost one ! Ido not ask you
to pardon the gush of my tears. He who
cannot pity and weep may pass on to mingle
with the heartless world, and bumble his im
mortal being to be satisfied with its common
and selfish schemes. • •
Musing here, in one view. how dark life
seems. There is a pain that not unfrequent
ly almost'eauses the life to die out. But - the
spirit of these words seems' breathed upon
me now, and whenever my pen moves in the
tracery of thought, •
"llaikness in the pathway of man's life,
Is but the shadow of God's providence,
By the great sun of wisdom cast thereon,
And what is dark Moil is'bright above;"
. It is well to speak and write of shadows
cast upon the life below, and of eternal bright-
ness given to the life above, and of faith and
hope struggling amid the mysteries of the
present toward the realization of a better
state. There are some lessons which most
hearts learn sooner or later; life is serious and
earnest,—it would' be sad and dark but for
the hopes reaching up to the light and bless
edness of Heaven. Oh ! That all would for
sake the vanities of earth, bid adieu to the
false hopes of the human heart, and rise to
know the substantial joys of aspiring to the
Eternal Abode.
CHRIST'S dead are not dead. Many may
point to their resting places in this City of
the Silent, but the invisible world is bright
ened by their spiritual presence,—they are
with God and His ringers, awaiting in - bliss
the power of that resurrection which shall
touch and crown with immortality the smoul
dering forms of the
,just. .
I have been musing in the twilight till I
realize the power of reflection to free from
fetters which the world casts about the soul
to itself. Every Christian should have such
seasons. They lead to a higher faith. FrOm
them we may go .with calmness to'do and pa
tience to bear. There is no more appropri
ate place or hour. ,
"When the last sunshine of expiring day
In summer twilight weeps itself away,
Who has not felt the softness 6t , the hour
Steal o'er the heart like dew along the flowers."
The soul, musin ,, by the grave of "buried
love" at the- twilight hour, may reach,gleri
ous spiritual conceptions, ain to compapion
ship with God and the saved 1 This is an
hour beyond the power of pen or pencil—an
hour to• teach bow weak human speech may
be for the purposes of the soul, The long,
bright summer day is bidding adieu to earth
in , the gloriousness of twilight. All must
soon.bid adieu to the earth, and the grave
become the place of long repose. It would
seem sweet to me to breath out 'my Aire to
God, here, now—to have earth take me as a
weary child to her anus , Tried heart, .be
patient !--in a little while—the longest life
is short. By-and by the angels' will softly,
sweetly whisper,'.".Ellath"—a holy calm of
gladness will come over thy -soul, and thou
wilt answer thy name in }leaven.— Afoore's
'Rural New Yorker.
"Oh l 4.ngeline,' said a young hortieultu
rist; to his love one evening. 'lf you could
only see my Isabella.--Itovrecfcirdil,l3 le de
velops new ' beauties—so. beautiful I—hang
ing over me so tenderly—no limey so sweet
to the taste.' , •
Angeline suddenly fell to the floor like a
flat iron.- - • • • , • I , : • ! • „.„
'Villain l' she .cried,,lon lore 'another!',
and swooned, away.. ,
'OhI,.L• have kilted her!' exclaimed, the ;
yoUng horsiOnhariskf jumping tip and wing.
ing his hands. 'Oh, Angeline—don;t—,
You mnan't for the; ,world; Angeline—l
didn't 'mean meant the ;grape
Angbline recovered. .
A-friend tells -a story of a witness who
matlor very nice !distinction
• in the shades
of lying. Being.4nestioned -by a lawyer as
to the general repittation of another •witness
for truth, the witness was tylccd whethertlge :
indisidtMlf sfrall,4 l , o 4:cliPtortggs i:.1 1 4 , y1
said 114, rollinFetol4Pullteascr.q!li4ritoff
in hie month, •nottmactly,sp;.bittleia.what
I call an inierusittent liar.
NO VEMBER'26-1864 ;
• •
ihi ilt:::_.-t:4,•:'...0-
i•,: •.• ;•: :•!
' The tieurer Paught •
••' I!: • : .••••
Au eminent artist at Lypasimit e passing
thd Rite ilefTeirelini,"d"
ifttiinber of personif•Who - were ;gat ereti
gather, ,wituessint the sale.. of :Lim dilroittiro
of a poor workman . .., A. ( w o man Was seated on,
the with illher_itims "The
"painter'spOkii alrei, and :told "that the
furniture which was being sold' belonged to
her; that her•husband leav
ing her with , the child, she bad in ..her,armss,
that 'she had struggled hard 'to maintain-her
self by working day "trod night, 'mid submit
ting to. every privation, but that her landlord
had at length seized her furniture for , some
= :tit--w-hieb-was due hinr -- • The. artist
was Much affected by , this siniple recital, and
in, uired-whe Vrasiherlandlorel —"There he
is,'•
replied the poor:woman, pointing to a
man who was watching the progress of the
sale; and he was recognized by , the painter
as a person who was suspected of - having a•
massed a consideiable fortune by usury, so
that to make an appeal to his feelings on , be
half of the poor widow would :be useless--"-
The artist , was considering .within himself
what other' plan he, could adopt to benefit
het, ivheit the' crier antiounned a Pieture for
sale. It was• a miserable daub, which in the
summer the - por•womanhadused to hide•the
hole in the wall through which the pipe of
the stove passed during the winter. It was
put up at one franc. , The artist it once con
ceived ti - plan for taking retenge on the land
lord. He went over, examined: the pictuie
with great attention, and then Called out,
with a loud voice. ° "One hundred francs !"
the landlord was astounded at the bid, but
conceiving that a pictute for which eci
emi
nent an artist could offer that sum, ivas worth
'more than double, boldly offered Iwo - hun
dred"! "Five hundred I" said the painter,
and the contest between the two bidders be
came so animated, that the prize was at length
knocked down to .the landlord at 2,200 fran
cs ! The purchaser, then addressing the
painter, said. "In seeing an artist of your
merit bid so eagerly for the picture, I sup
posed that it must be valuable. Now tell me
sir, at what do you estimate- its value ?"
"About three fianes and a - half," said the
_p_ainter, "but I would not give that .for it."
are jesting" said the landlord,
' "for you bid as high as 2,100 f. for AO—
"That is true," replied the artist," "and I
will tell you why I did so. You, who are in
possession of an
_income of 25,00 0 1' . a year,
have seized upon the furniture of a poor wo
man for a debt of 200 f. I wished to give
you a lesson, and you fell' into my trap: In
stead of the poor woman being your • debtor,
she is now your creditor, and I flatter myself
you will not compell her to seize on your fur
niture for her debt." The artist then polite
ly saluted the astonished landlord, and hav
ing announced her good fortune to- the poor
woman, walked away.
two. P. MOUS.
In all twes the bodies of the Masonic dead
have been laid in graves dug due'East and,
West,, with their faces toward the East.—
This practice has been borrowed from them,
and hdopteti by others, until it has become
nearly universal. It implies that when the
GREAT DAY Atilt come, and He who. is
Death's conqueror shall give the signal,'Eis
ineffable light shall be first seen in the
East; that from the East he will make his
glorious approach; will stand at the eastern
margin of these graves, and with His mighty
power—that grasp irresistibly strong ' . which
shall prevail—will raise the bodies which
are slumberinc , therein. We shall have been
long buried, long decayed. Friends,
rela
tives, yea our nearest and dearest, will cease
to remember where they have laid Mtn.' The
broad earth will have undergone Wonderous
changes,—mountains levelled, Valleys filled.
The seasons will have chased eatilr other -iii
many a fruitful round; , Oceans, lashed into
fury by the . gales of to-day, will tomorrow
have sunk like
,a spoiled child to their slum'
bet.. Broad trees, with boirdered roots, will
have interlocked them, hard and -knobbed
as they are, above ours ashes. as if to conceal
the very fact of our having lived; and then
after centuries of life, they too will have fol
lewed our example, of,,mortality, — , , and long
struggling with decay, at last will have top
pled down to join their remains with ours,
thus obliterating the last poor testimony that
man has ever lain there. So' shall- .we be
lost
,to human - sight . . Bat the EiZ OF GOD,
nevertheless, will mark the spot, green with
the everlasting verdae df"and when
the . truinpet's- blast shall shake the hills to
their very bases, our, astonished .bodies will
rise, impelled upward by in irresistible im
pulse, and we shall. stand face to face: with
our Redeemer.
THE ;)00M of CdPPERITEADS.=- I Woe un
to them that call evil good and good evil';
that put darkness for light, and light .for
darkness ;, that put : bitter for sweet, and.sweet
for bitter.,Which justify the wicked for
reward'an take witty the righteousness of
tho righteous •from hits. , Therefore the,
fire devoureth the stubble, and the flame
eonsumeth the chaff so their root shall be
rottenness, and their 'bloisom go up as
the dust because they, have_ ,easi :,away the
law of the Lord of Hosts, and ilispised ,the
Ward . of the Holy', thief Isiael.l::—lsctia
friend; saYs an exehabgtkretitiniag from
a depot a few, 1119min*. lance 4 - . bottfd
of freshly itnperod!*ilne,-14g,'...85it asoung
ilidy :whore he ,must inevitably join. , So„p tu t ,
ting the: bottle uhder his arm he fi4tliwalk
ed.ahingaidii. • —• `- '
'Well,' said the yoimeilidy,:ifter faltlfika.l
ing of health atid weather, 'what is that bun
dle..underloweltrinntivai
ered
VII, not ing s ha , Ok q9ltAhpAaikirltait heap
,uifitchtiiiBl."xne:"
yo 4 tl` 4614,
'carry it back and get hire tasevaiiltetWittore
heile—it. leaks?'
UWE
',)11
Tho IViasca's Grave
sll2lioo , 1t",01 4 r ear
NUMBEPk 24.
•;•!.' :•Pt.;
:" • '" •.1 ,
tacat
Iy Ai vrAi f pss4 an, atiatising.ii;keident one
titieers - tattiMW' A
t fashionab le. young I ;got:,; ip„iii tltet t Ngli
est.tyle sof ; mill iner:o ail, and ; arrai l ed i ip i ltA
ebe,glery of iifive doltai
-iiiitciid"diil
lar...shawl, was Stiq4ping majestically t alopg
in the direction 'Of ther Pair 'Oibibits; While
Ittst behind a•bdi *A 'leading a pet 'eoon::---
A countrymanYin'firbioiiiifSlouched hat and
woolsartiarunis, cadre along follbweil
'by a Vallah'.- dog -.whose nose was -scarred
.ciingoaaliy,. transversely- a rub late Tally t he
scars .of:ftuany • a fiercely aentested
with members of the, racepon family 'Tige'
no.sooner sew. • the ringtailedurepresentatire
of . his ancient enemy, titan tie made a frd'a
tie dive f. I' . a i ‘'ed by , a---furitni
bark. Cooney - tipprehended the situation
lit it glance; olied intoniinently,' and solight
safety 'beneath the ) ample circuinfeiinde of
the lady'S minable. Tt.e . young lady scream
ed *bile the dog Made ciferei---I;l6ifff
big the' -and tvoidently- bewilileied to
knew what had .become •ot the, :coon. The
situation of the young lady at this moment,.
-was, critical., , and embarrassing., She a
fraid to,trtove;tor, fear the , coon ,would bite,.
, '• • • • d •
and t'he coon declined to leave his .ret reat ,
until the dog had retired. Finally, the dog
was stoned off, - .the boy dragged, the coon
from his hiding , place arid the young lady
went tier way, with a lively' C:Onseioifisrless of
hiving ikperienced a ii6isr"iensation: . ..ks
for the coon he-was instantly. killed. LI-ie
bad seen too much to Hach—lndianapolis
Journal;
A cross grained old bachelor remarked in
'our' piesen6e the othei that
,the most
strikiw. b characteristics of heathen - bud civil
ized lands were that in the former men made
slaves of women, and in the latter women
made laves of the men ! A fellow guilty Of
such slander on the economical fair .4.6/1 of
Christendom should never 4 allowed to look
at a pretty girl.
Why, are greenbacks more valuable- than
gobi, elithi at the prese'n't price; ? &caw&
when you put a greenback in your pocket
you double it, and when you take it out A
gain you find it in, creases. . •
Gen. duSter, who has so distinguished him
self in the battles won by Gen. Sheridan; and
who has been made a,Majer General, is but
twenty-four years old. lie's "one of the
boyS," and his mother must be proud of him,
like that other mother of his, his -entintry.
To smother a young lady in happiness,
give her two canary bi7ds,.a dozen yards of
bright silk, a moonlight wulk with ber'Seau,
an ice cream, a hi:m(111ot, and the promise of
a new bonnet.
Samba had been whipped for stealing. 'his
master's onions One day he brought
in'-
skunk is his arms; 'says ha l . "Massa, •herers
de,9hap dat steai,de onions Whew—Arg4l
him brof !"
' , A young lady objected to a negro's carry
ing her. across a rued hole. because, she
thought herself too heavy. "Lor's, misses,"
said Sambo, "I'se carried whole
barrels of sugar." •
"DO you retail things here," asked a green
looking specimen or humanity as,be poked
his head into a store on Main street the oth
er day. .
/Yes," was the laconic reply,
"Well, I wish you would re:tail my dog,
be bid it bit off about a week ago."• -
A bachelor in Erie, 'nova eightkaaren.was
recently married to a blushing widow of,be-
Mean 40 and 50 summers. Better late than
never, we'suppose.
Life is a constant struggle for riehes,which
we must 'soon leave behind.
,They seem gitr;
en to us, as the'nurie gives a plaything to
to amuse it until Malls asleep,.
An old widower says
,when you pop .the
question do it witli a kind of laugh, as if
you were joking. If the accepts you, very
well; if she : does not, you exti:say you wero
only in fun. 1!`
~,,
i The coquette, who. wins and :sacks lovers,
would, if • she were a military conqueror,
.
• in.and sack cities:' .
Lvwca ! what is .it ?' A , gross insult to
year breakfast, and a libels-upon your angel,
pated dinner. ,
He who in this world resolve 4 to speak one
ky the truth, 'will eppak only whatis too good
for ite muss of mankind to„uod?rataWd and
will be persecuted accordingly.
•
"Isn't it pleasant to be surrounded by frac&
a oro*d of ladies?" said a pretty woman, to a
popular. leekurer. "Yes,', said he, "but it
_wokl-be-pleasanAen:polae - surounded
by
one:',' ;-
Nilieary,Order obeyed by tliejailies in wet,
Weailior—"Dress np front, did close tip
in the'•rear." • .' ' ' • - •
_„ What key opens .the.gate.tamisoiy?:Whis•
key. „ „
Schools andteburehes are the impregnabk;
fort4eatioaa
.": t
Irt6jr se a good
t o n o; i ngi .b y ~ ,t , 7 tilt': 4) -
ribs curiosity of women would to nun.
" •
• . C 4 OCk tioreis have , Sunk *as
;cork jackata, will ever keep up. -
Oaklieetiiney live fifteen It:Waited yeas&
1106601 Greeley will,be iftproutjeara 4
age in the mouth of Febrtuuynext.
I ); I 4
"
tt • IN -Sarsr
are4) -
~..r`>a