X3* W. 331 air.
VOLUME XIX
N"CoNITIO,A.Lia
IN PEACE.
Come, !et us make his pleasant grave
Upon this shady shore,
Where the sad river, wave on wave
Shall grieve for ever more;
Oh! long and sweet shall be hit dream,
Lulled by its soothing flow—
Sigh softly, softly, shining stream, because he loved
you so!
Fair blossomed•daughters of the May,
So lovely in their bloom.
Your ranks must stand aside today
To give your darling room ;
These dewdrops which you shed in showers
Are loving tears, I know—
Bloom brightly, brightly, grateful flowers because
he loved you so !
Here, all along warm summer days, "
The yellow bees shall eme,
Coquetting down the blossomy ways
With fond and ringing hum;
While warbling in the sunny trees,
The birds flit to and fro--
Sing sweetly, sweetly; birds and bees, because he
- loved you so. •
Here, with their softened, cautious tread,
The light feet of the shower
Shall walk about his grassy
And cool the sultry hOur;
Yet mayliot wake to smile again
The eyei which sleep . below—
Fall lightly, lightly, pleasant rain, because he loved
.you so!
And when the summer's voice is dumb
And lost her bloomy grace,
When sobbing autumn's temposts•come
To weep above the place
Till all the forest boughs are thinned, --- --
Their leafy pride laid low
Grieve gently, gently, wailing wind, because he lov.
ed you so !
And when, beneath the chilly light
That crowns.the winter day,
The storm shall fold his grave in white,
And shut the world away;
Above his sweet, untroubled rest,
Fall soft, caressing snow—
Drift tenderly across_ his breast, becouse he loved
you so!
PUT TOR SHOULDER TO THE 'WHEEL.
There's a voice that speaks within 1.19,
If we own no craven heart,
As we press along life's pathway,
Taking our appointed part:
And it bids us bear our burden,
Heavy though it seem and feel,
And With strong. had hopeful vigor
Put your shoulder to the wheel.
Whit though clouds are darkening o'er us,
They but hide a tranquil sky;
Or should storm drops fall around us,
Soon the sunshine bids them dry,
Never doubt, and faint an 3 falter,
Heart be stout end true as steel;
Fortune smiles on brave endeavor— '
Put your shoulder to the wheel.
Folded hands will never aid us,
To uplift the ;oad of care;
Up and stirring be your motto,
Meek to sutler, strong to bear,
'Tis not chance that guides our footsteps,
Or our destiny can seal; .
With a will then strong and steady
Put your shoulder to the wheel.
Men of worth have conned the lesson,
Men of might have tried its truth,
Aged lips have breathoi•its maxim
In the listening ear of youth;
And be sure throughout life's journey
Many a wounded heart would heal, •
If we all as friends and brothers
Put our shoulder to the wheel.
iF 4 q7VI
CATCHING A. PICKPOCKET.
A lady traveling by the land rout between
New York and Boston, was unfortunate e
nough. to loose her purse, containing a con
siderable amount of money, which was un
doubtedly appropriated by a gentlemanly per.
son who occupied the seat next to her, but
who left during the time the train was pass
ing the city, having managed to pick the la
dy's_pocket during that time undetected, as
half an hour previous the purse was known
to be safe.
in recounting her loss to a friend who was
soon after about to make the same journey,
the danger of .gentlemanly appearing
pen
'occupying the next seat, to .unprotected fe
males, and, in fact the danger , of trusting
to appearances at all, was strongly, dwelt up
on.
-„ The new tourist was particularly.,caution
ed to boware.ou going through the ,tunnel
at New York, and being thoroughly admon
,ished, concluded to keep her .pooket book
.gritspad in her hand during ,that perilous pas
.sage.
The lady started; sure enough, a gentle
manly looking persOn, on the arrival of the
train at Springfield, solicited permission to
fill the unoccupied seat beside the fair trav
eler, who, according to the rules of tray:-
el, could not refuse. The strangees man
ners were those of, gentlemanly ease, (pick
pockets in novels are always so,) his costume
was plain, serviceable and adaptect to travel
WAYNESBORO, FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA,= FRIDAY MORNING, AUGUST 4,1865.
ing. . He was polite; he offered the radThitil
newspaper—it was coldly decline 4 he volun- I
teered a few remarks, which received only
chilling monosyllable responses: In fact
he made no progress whatever in becoming
better acquainted with his neighbor and evi
dently giving it up, in despair, occupied him
self with, his newspaper and a cheap novel.
The lady bad almost forgotten her traveling
companion, as well as the advice of her friend,
when the recollections of both suddenly flash
ed upon her, as the train entered the Cim
merian darkness of the tunnel. She hurri
edly fumbled foi her pocket, but the finding
of a lady's pocket amid the folds of her dress
is often a matter of difficulty, and now in the
impenetrable darkness it seemed doubtful, so
nervously she felt in the direction where she
supposed that appendage was, till at last the
aperture was reached, and her hand thrust
in to grasp and hold her pocket book safely
th_e-train-should-again-emerge-in to-day
light, when horror of errors s e encoun-,
tered the gentleman's hand in her pocket!
Whether to scream for assistance, to seize
the intruder, or in fact what to do, she
scarcely knew; however, acting upon a *sud
den resolution, she seized the hand and held
it on, determined to show the villain detec
ted in the very act on emerging to the light,
The train rolled seemed so slow
ly on, that it appeared as if the end of that
terrible tunnel would never be reached—she
clutched the intruding band with a firmer
grasp, which made no special effort to relieve
itself, probably knowing bow useless would
be the struggle, or else, both were ungloved,
feeling content to rest in the soft, warm clasp
that encircled it. At length, however, the
train emerged into daylight, which found
both lady and gentleman anxiously looking at
each other, the lady's face wearing a frigh
tened, anxious ex,pression and the - gentle
man's_a curious and puzzled one, as he gaz
ed' into the startled eyes of his companion.
"Sir !" she began indignantly tightening
her grasp, when, chancing to cast her eyes
down, she found, oh, terrible circumstance,
her hand in the outside pocket of his coat,
desperately grasping his hand, which it had
encountered.
The lady was_ covered with confusion at
this unlooked for turn of affairs, and the
gentleman, who was a man of discrimination,
saw that the encounter was aridental and
that each had probably received pickpocket
impression of the dther from it. Mutual ex
planations at length ensued, and cards were
exchanged.
It remains for us to add that the acquain
tance thus commenced was continued, and
that the lady and gentleman, who are both
well known in this city, were recently united
in . marriaue. We would not, however advise
marriageable young ladies, as a general thing,
to mistake gentlemen's pockets for their
own, as the sequel may not always turn out
to be as pleasant as in the above instance.
SHE WOULD BE MARRIED.
Mr. Watts had by industry and economy
accumulated a fortune. ffe was a man of
rather superior mind and acquirements, but
unfortunately became addicted to habits of
intemperance. Naturally fond of company,
and possessing superior conversational pow
ers, his company was much sought, and he
became eventually a sot. Ills wife was a
feeble woman, without much decision of char
acter; but an only' child was the reverse, il
lustrating one of those singular laws of na
ture, that the females oftenest take after the
father in characteralid personal peculiarities,
and the males after the mother.
Mary was well aware Of the consequences
that would inevitably follow her Aather's
course, and had used every exertion of per
suasion and reason in , her power to . induce
him to alter his habits, but without avail;—
his resolutions and promises could not with
stand temptation, and he pursued his own
downward course till the poor girl despaired
of reform, and greviously realieed what the
end must result in.
John Dunn was a young man from the
East, possessed of a good education, as all
our New England boys arc, and possessed
their indomitable industry and perseverance
and was working on the farm of a neighbor
by the month.
Mary, on going on some errand to the
next house, met him on the road with the u
sual. salutation— "Good morning, Mr. Dunn."
"Good morning, Miss Watts. How is
your health?"
"Well, I thank you;—but to tell the truth,
sick ap heart." •
"Pray, what is the trouble?' said John.
"What can effect you,. a cheerful, lively girl
like you, possessing everything that can
make you happy."
"On the contrary, there is enough to make
me miserable. lam almost weary of life.—
But it is a subject I cannot explain to you;
and yet I have sometimes thought I might."
"Anything, that I can do' for you, Miss
Watts, you may freely command." •
"That is promising more than you would
be willing to perform. But to break the ice
at once, do you want .a wife?"
"A wife! Well, I don't know. Do you
want a husband?" •
"Indeed I do, the' worst way. I don't
know but you may think me ,bold, and defi
cient in that maidenly modesty becoming a
woman, but if you knew my situation, and
the Afflictions under which I suffer, I think
it would be some excitse for my course."
"Have you thought of the consequences?"
said John—"my situation—L am poor---you
are rich--I am
,a stranger-Land-=----L"
"Indeed I have, I am utmost crazy; Lint
we explain—you and every one else know
the unfortunate situation of pay father. His
habits are fixed beyond - amendment, and his
property is wasting like the dews before the
sun. A lot of harpies , are drinking his very
heart's blood, and ruin , and misery are staring
us in the face. We are almost strangers,. it
is true; bat I have observed you . clasely.—
Your_ habits, your indusfry,...and the care and
Nekliaraloostacoor g 'Neutral 121 Mic:oliticgg3 alma Itoligicirt.
pru.enee wi n. viElarlowlnive=inutraged
your employer's business, have always inter
ested me. '
"And yet, my dear young lady, what can
you know of me to Warrant you in taking
such an important step?"
"It is enough for me that I am satisfied
with your character and habits—your person
and manners. lam a woman and have eyes.
We are about the same 'age; so, if you know
me and like me well enough to take me, there
is my hand."
"And, my dear Mary, there's mine with
all my heart in it, Now, when do you de
sire it to be settled?" -
"Now, this minute; give me your arm and
we will go to 'Squire Benton's, and have the
bargain finished at once. I don't want to
enter our house of distress again, until, I
have one on whom I can rely, to control and
direct the affairs of thy disconsolate home,
and4o-support-me-in-my-disconsolate - ho
and - to suppult me-in---niy-determination-to
turn over a new leaf in our domestic affairs,"
"But not in this old hat, and in my shirt
sleeves, Mary?"
"Yes—and I in my old sun bonnet and
iirty apron. If you are csntent let it be
done at once. I hope you will think lam
not so hard pushed as that comes; but I want
a master. lam willing to be mistress. I
will then take you home and introduce you
as my own dear husband—signed, sealed,
and delivered."
"So be it—permit me to say, that I have
always admired you from the first minute I
saw you, for your beauty and energy, and in
dustrious, amiable deportment."
"Now, John, if this is sincere, this is the
happiest moment of my life, and I trust our
union will be long and happy. I. am the on
ly one my father hears to—but, alas ! his rot
solutions are like ropes of sand. I gargl3.
age him on all other subjects; you roust Ake
charge of his business, and' have sole control;
there will be no diffoulty;—l am confident of
the result."
They were married, and a more happy
match never was consummated. Everything
prospered; houses and barns were repaired,
fences and gates were regulated, and the ex
tensive fields smiled and flourished like au
Eden. The unfortunate father in a few years
sank into a drunkard's grave. Mary and
John raised a large family; and they still live
respected and wealthy—all from an energet
ic girl's resolution, forethought and cour
age,
Swearing Alone.
A gentleman once heard a laboring man
swearing dreadfully in the presence of com
panions. He told him it was a cowardly
thin.. to swear in company with others, when
ho dare not do it by himself. -The man said
he was not afraid to swear at any time or in
any place. '
"I'll give you ten dollars," said the gen
tleman, "if you will go to the village grave
yard at twelve o'clock to night, and swear
the oaths you have uttered here, when you
are alone with God."
"Agreed," said the man, "it's an easy way
of earning ten dollars."
'•Well, you come to me to-morrow and
say that you have ,done it, and the money is
yours.".
The time passed on; midnight came. The
man went to the graveyard. It was a night
of pitchy darkne§s. As he entered the grave
yard not a sound was heard; all was still• as
death. Then the gentleman's words, "alone
with God," came over him with wonderful
power. The thought of the wickedness of
what he had been doing and' what he had
come to do, darted, across his mind like a
flash Of lightening. He trembled at, his fol
ly. Afraid to take another step, he fell up
on his knees, and instead of the dreadful
oaths he came to utter, the earnest cry went
up—" God be merciful to me a sinner."
The next day ho went to the gentleman
and thanked him for what ho bad done, and
said he had resolved not to swear another
oath as long as he lived.
NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEronE.—lligh up
the mountain slopes of eliamouni there is a
beautiful pain, covered with verdure and
flowers. Thither the shepherds of the Alps
drive their flocks to partake of the rich pas
turage and breathe the pure mountain air.—
The ascent is difficult, over icebergs and tor
rests. At one point the rocks rise almost
perpendicular;, when the flock arrives at this
point, none appears bold enough to venture
but 'the shepherds gather the lambs in their
arms, and toss them up on the - plain; the
whole flock clambers after him and soon is
feeding upon the rich herbage, or browsing
beneath the "rose tree of the Alps."
Bereaved parents, the lamb of your love
bas been carried up, and beckons you to fol
low where all flowers sweeter than those of
the Alps, and air and sunshine purer and
brighter than is found up in Chamouni.—
It is the greenwood of love in the spirit
/and.
BRIGHT YOUTll.—A.,teneber one day en•
dearvoriug, to make a pupil understand • the
nature and application of a passive verb,
said, “A passive verb is Impressive bf the na
tore of receiving an aCtiun, Peter is beaten,
Now, what .did Peter do? Tho boy, pausing
a, mornent with the gravest countenance im•
aginaille, replied, "Well, I don't know, with
out he hollered."
small a portion of our life it
is thitt we really enjoy In youth we are
looking forward to things that are to conic ;
in old. age we urn looking backwards to things
that are gone past; iu manhood, although
we appear indeed to be more occupied in
things that are present, yet ever,' that is ab
sorbed in vague deterruivations to be • vastly
happy on sows future day, whoa we have
time. • . •
lirgy is a victory like a Iciss? ,Beeause. it
is easy to Giant.
I had occasion a few weeks since to take
the early train from Providence to Boston,
and for that purpose at two o'clock in the
Morning. Everything around was wrapt in,
darkness, and bushed in silence, broken only
by what seemed at that hour the unearthly
clank and rush of the train• It was a mild,
serene midsummei's night—the sky wa s
without a cloud—the winds were whist.—
The moon, then in the last qUarter, had just
risen, and the stars shone with spectral lus
tre but little effected by her presence. Ju
piter, two hours high, was the herald of the
day; the pleiades just above the horizon shed
their sweet influence in the east; Lyra spark
ed neath the zenith; AndroMeda veiled her
newly discovered glories from the naked eye
in the south; the steady Pointers, far beneath
the pole, looked meekly up from the depths
of the northlo their sovereign,
-as - tho glorious spectacle as en
tered-the-train.---As_we_p roceeded r the . -tim—
id approach of twilight became 'more per :
ceptible; the intense blue of the sky began
to soften, the smaller stars like little chil
dren went first to rest; the sister-beams of.
the Pleiades soon melted together; but the
constellations of the west and north remain
ed unchanged. Steadily the wondrous change
went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mar.
tat eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens;
the glories of night dissolved into the glories
of the dawn. The blue sky now turned more
softly grey; the east began to kindle. Feint
streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky;
the whole celestial concave was filled with
theinflowing tides of the morning light,
which came pouring down from above in one
great ocean of radiance; till, at length, as we
reached the Blue Hills ' a flash of purple
fire blazed out from the horizon, turning the. -
dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies,
and diamonds. In a few secondi the ever
lasting g ates of the morning were - thrown
open, and kihg of the day, arrayed in glories
too severe for the gaze of man, began his
course. Ido tat wonder at the superstition
of the ancient Magians, who, in the morning
of the world, went up to the hill tops of Cen
tral Asia, and ignorant of the true God, a
dored the most glorious work of His hand.
-But I am filled with amazement when I am
told that in this enlightened age, and in the
heart of the Christian world, there are per
sons who can witness this daily manifesta
tion of, he Creator, and' yet say in their
hearts, "There is no God.' —Edward Etier
elf.
Aims in Life—A Contrast
Young maul are the aims of thy life such
as these? Bost thou improve thy hours of
leisure, such as occur in the interi , als of la
b.~r and business, in reading and study, in
meditation, in profital3le Conversation? If
so, thou art acting wisely; for thou wilt thus
lay up for thyself a portion that will stay by
thee in every trial and conflict upon life's
pilgrimage. Not so, however, with that
young man who finds his chief-and almost
only pleasure, in the gratifying of his appe
tites and passions. A dark future iwaits
him. While the former is at home in the
evenings with his books, the latter is abroad
with his convivial companions, wasting his
time and limey, and by his vicious practice
and sensual indulgence is enfeeblinc , both
body and mind. In this way his character c
is corrupted and destroyed, though he may
for a while keep up his reputation, which
however, will not last long after character,
its only sure foundation, is ruined. Beware
then, young man how thou spendest that
time! As thy childhood, youth and early
manhood, so will be thy maturer life. Three
terms - being given, it is nowise difficult to
find the fourth or final result.
In a town in 'Old Essex County' more
than half a century ago, were two lads at
tending the same school, the one a studious
youth, who . took fast hold rot instruction, dil
ligently employing every opportunity to get
knowledge and wisdom and understanding.
He avoided those places of amusement where
the young waste so much tithe and form hab
its of dissipation—but lost thereby that
charining and characteristic title, a •ladies
man.' Not so, however with his companion.
Ho did not like application to his books, did
not find pleasure . in their study. He was
fond of company, fond of his chief and high
mit delight; parties, balls, etc. Ile was ready
to accept an invitation to attend a•dancing
party anywhere within twenty miles. He
was the idol of the young misses—was called
by that sweet, charming and most endearing
of titles, a 'ladies' man.'
Time passed on and the young men enga.
ged in active scenes of life. The former was
appointed Judge of the Supreme Court of
the. United States. The latter secured the
place of 'street scavenger.' in a village in the
aforesaid county. How true it is—whatso
ever -one soweth that shall he also reap.—
This interesting sketch is veritable history,
and names could be given if necessary. It
will serve just as well, however, to illustrate
the lives of multitudes of young men in and
out of Essex County. Remember, young
man, that understanding is a well spring of
life. How much better it is to get wisdom
than gold; and understanding than .
William B. Astor is sixty-five years old ;
worth, fifty millions; owns two thousand
dwellings, and is. a lenient landlord. A. T.
Stewart is sixty, thin, nervons, dignified,
worth thirty millions: Commodore Vander.
bilt is white hared, red cheeks, seventy,worth
forty millions; drives a fast horse, and gives
away his money very lavishly. August Bel
mont, twenty' millions, e'oarse, stout, fifty, and
very German. George Opodyke, five rail
lions,'filty, but looks younger; an agreeable
gentleman. James Gordon. Bennett, five
millions, seventy-three rats old, dignified in
manner, broad Scotch accent, benevolent to
the poor.
Why is the emancipation ' proclamation a
demoralizing edict?--41ebause• it brings so
many''Oficle.ft:gs into the Union lines.
~ e z quare
"Do you make mile an New Years ?"
"Never," said my friend Tom. "fuse to,
but lam oured, ll '
"How so ?" said I, anxious to learn his
experience.
"Why, you see," said Tom; feelingly, "as
I wail making calls, some years back, I fell
in love with a beautitul girl--that she was.
Well, sir, I courted her like a trump, and
tho'i I had her sure, whin she eloped with
a • tailor—yes, sir-ee that lovely creature
did."
"She showed bad taste," said I, compas
siona teiy,
- "More_thaa that " remarked—Tom ) ---Ber
vitiuslY: "Downright inhumanity is the word.
I could stand being gilted for a down=town
broker, a captain with whiskers, or anything
showy, that I could—but to be cut out, like
a suit of ell thgsb_y_t.heieth--p a " .
vcanthat was brut t ality. But I swore ven
gems° -e - = - -that I did:'
"Vengeance ?" I nervously inquired.
"Yee, sir," said Tom, with earnestness,
"and I took it. I patronized. the robber of
my happiness, and, ordered a full suit 'of
clothes, regardless of expense. He laid him
self• out on the job, I tell you;—they were
stunning you may believe it."
"But your vengeance,", said I, prompting
him.
"I stuck that tailor in his most vital point,
that I did—l never paid that bill; no, sir-e,
I didn't. But those infernal clothes were
the cause of all my future misfortunes, that
they wore,"
"flow so ?" said I, with a smile of corn
passion,
"Wearing them, I captivated my present
wife, She told me so, and I havn't had a
happy day since. But I. am • bound to be
square with that wretched tailor, in the long
run. I've left him a legacy, on condition he
Marries wy widow."
A Little Deaf
In the olden time, before Maine laws - were
invented; Wing kept the hotel at Middle
Grainville, and from his well-stocked bar,
furnished "accommodation to man and beast,"
lie was a good landlord, but terribly deaf,—
Fish, the village painter, was afflicted in the
same way.
One day they were sitting by themselves
in the bar-room. Wing was behind the
counter, waiting for the next customer; while
Fish was lounging, before the fire, with a
thirsty look, casting sheep's eyes occasional
ly at Wing's decanter's; and wishing de
voutly that some one would come in and
treat.
A traveler from the south, on his way to
Brandon, stepped in to enquire the distance.
Going up to the counter, he said•, "Can you
tell me, sir, how far it is to Brandon?"
"Brandy ?" says the ready landlord,jump
ing up, "yes, sir, I have some," at the same
time banding down a decanter of the pre
cious liquid.•
"You misunderstood me," says the stran
ger, "I asked how far it was to Brandon."
'They call it pretty good brandy," says
Wing. "Will you , take some sugar with it?"
reaching as he spoke, for the bowl and tod
dy-stick.
The despairing traveler turned to Fish.
' "The landlord," said he, "seems to be deaf,
will .you tell one how far it is to Brandon ?"
"Thank you," said Fish: "1 don't care if
do take a drink with you !"
The stranger treated and fled:
WATOEINO ONE'S SELF.--"When I was
a boy," said an old man,'"we had a school
master who had an odd way of catching idle
boys.' One day be called out to us—
" Boys, I must have closer attention to
your books. The first one of you who sees
another idle boy, I want you to inform me,
and I will attend tb the ease.".
"A,b, thought I to myself, there is Joe
Simmons that I don't like. I'll watch him,
and if I seo him look off his book, I'll tell.
It was not long before I saw Joe look' off
his book and immediately I told the mas
ter.
"Indeed," said he, "how did you know he
was idle?"•
"I saw him," said I.
"You did; and were your eyes ,on your
book when you saw him?'
"I was caught, and never watched for idle
boys again."
if we ate sufficiently watchful over our
own conduct, we shall have no time to find
fault with the conduct of others.
A correspondent, alluding to the fact that
the most of the 'calls' which modern clergy
man feel so imperatively bound to obey, are
from comparatively low salaries to high ones,
says that those calls remind him of the hon
est old negro's anecdote. It was as follows:
A certain divine, having concluded to
change his pastoral situation, mentioned his
determination from the pulpit. After ser
vice.was over, an old negro, who was one of
his admirers,"went up to him and desired to
know his motives in - leaving his flock. The
parson answered, 'lle had a call.
"Where from, mesa?" said the negro.
"The Lord," answered' the parson.
"Massa, what you get for preaching here?"
"Six hundred dollars, Caesar.".
"And what you get toder place?" •
4 'A thousand.". -
. Ah, massa, de Lord might call you all day
from $lOOO lo: 8600—you no go:'
An. Irishman recently stopped at a hotel,
between here and Des Moines wheie pretty
high bills were charged. In the morning
the landlord made out the amount of 'dam
age,' and presented it to Pat. After he bad
glanced over it, the latter looked the land
lord full in the face, and exclaimed, tYo put
me in mind nv. a d—d snipe.' Why?' askr
ed the landlord. 'Because ye're very nigh
all 4111."
021,00 Myer IreStxr
A SUGGESTED STATZSIDNT.—The. Peters..
burg (Va.) News oft late date, makes the
following suggestive statement:
In this whole Commonwealth there is not
as far as we kiiow, a glass factory, a buttons
factory, a paper mill, a broom factorY, ti Man
ufactory of wooden ware, a brass foundry, a
porcelain factory, a chair factory, a carpet
mill, a pin machine, an agricultural iMple
ment factory, a manufactury for Cutlery,, a
type foundry, a factory wherein a single ar:
ticle of printers use is made, a brewery, a
calico print factorY, a lock factory, a linen
factory or a cotton factory above capacity. for
the commonest work.
kow_thatsdaver_y_is_ortt_oftkeway,and_
there is a chance for the introdUCtion and
developmecit of free educated labor, there 19
hope that some of these mash needed insti
tutions will spring up in the Old Dominion.
WATER.—What imore refreshing this hot
weather than, a drink of pure, cool water. Of
its value and longing for, let those. speak
*ha have suffered the pangs of thirst under
a broiling sun. If so necessary for man,
may we not conclude that brutes stand in
equal need of it?. Look at the s cattle which
have been confined all day in a shadeless
pastime with oo.water, and see them rush to
the pond of brook for a fill at night, and puff
out as they drink until the milk is actually
forced out of their teats. This is all . wrong.
If water is not in the fields or pastures where
they are confined, they should be allowedac
eess to it morning, noon and night.. Other
kinds of stock me equally dependent upon
water for comfort, not the least of which are
the too frequently neglected bare-yard fowls.
If supplied frOin a vessel, the frequent vis
its and tapid evaporation under the hot sun,
render frequent refillings necessary, and their
long tarriance.at the fresh supply shows how
much they were in want of the article. $G
give all the stock plenty of fresh water—it
is food, comfort and drink.
The following anecdote of Daniel' Web
ster's boyhood was told by Mr. Lincoln:
When quite young, at school, Daniel was
guilty of a gross violation of the rules, he
was detected in the act, and called up by the
teacher for punishment. • This was to be the
old fashioned 'fcruling' of the hand. His
hands happened to be very dirty. Knowing
this, on his way to the teachers desk he spit
upon the palm of hi 9 right hand, wiping it
off upon the side of his pantaloons.'
"Give me your right hand, sir," said the
teacher, very sternly. Out , went the right
hand, partly cleaned, The teacher looken
at it a moment and said, "Daniel if you will
find another hand in the school as filthy as
that, I will let you off thig time!" Instant
ly from behind his back came the left hand.
Here it is, sir, was, the ready reply. 'That
will do,' said the teacher, 'for this time, you
can take your seat sir
1:•11C=1
THE TIGHT SQEEZE.-A young man re
cently having succeded, after persuasion in
getting,a kiss from a girl, went and told of
it. One of her acquaintances met her and
acid:
"So, Mary, John says you let biw kiss
ybu?"
"I did let him after he had teasel me an
hour,.,,but it was a tight squeeze even then."
"He did not mention that. He only spoke
of the kit's but did not say anything about
tho squeeze.
The quantity of digestion that a German can
get over is truly wonderful. We once bJard
ded with one who disposed of six meals a day,
and filled up the intervals with raw herrings
and sardines We never knew him to groan
but once, and that was when be heard that
the steamer "Houfer kass," loaded with
sour.kront, had foundered at sea, and noth
ing bad been saved but officers and crew.
A rough individual whose knowledge of
classical language was not quite complete
had been sick and on recovery was told by
his doctor that he might have a little ani
mal food. No sir, I took your gruel easy
enough, but hang me if I can go your hay
and oats.
What a fool!" said Patty Prim, when she
heard of the , capture of Jeff. Davis;
if
course the, men would all run after him if he
was dressed as a woman,. and he was sure to
be caught."
A dutchman on seeing one of the posters
announcing the coming of. the panorama of
"Paradise Lost," and reading this. line, ';A.
Rebellion in Heaven," suddenly exclaimed—
"A Rebellion in Heaven! Mein Gott! Dat
lasts not long now, 'Onkle Abe ish taro."
A talented African of the boot black per
suasion, while dancing like St. Vitus over a
customer's boot the other day, observed his
partner poring wisely over a newspaper,
whereupon the following colloquy ensued:.—
First member of the firun-=-`•Julius," what
you lookin' at dat paper foi ?' You can't
read." Second member—".Go way, fellah ;
guess I can read,Pse big enough for dat."—
First member—"Dat ain't nuffin. A cow is
big enough to catch a mice, but she cant do
it." „ .
A. toast at an Irish Sticiety's dinner at Cin
cinnati: "Here's to the President of the Soci
ety, Patrick 0 Raferty, and may he live to
ate the hen that scratches over his grave,'
What is a man like in the midst's of a des
ert without meat or drink? Ans. Like to be
starved.
The young woman who was driven to dis
traction' now fears that she will have to milk
back.
From what tree was mother Ere prompted
to pick the apple ? Devil•tree.
NUMBER