VOLUME XX t*CO3irriCLtLT-a. 111BRE'S-301111N0 LOST. There's nothing lost—the tiniest flower That grows within the darkest vale, Though lost to view has still the power The rarest perfume to exhale; That That perfume, borne on zephyr's wings, May visit some lone sick one's bed, And like the balm affection brings; 'Twill scatter gladness round her bead • There's nothing lost—the drop of dew That trembles on the rosebud's breast, Will seek its home of ether blue, • And fall again as' pure and blest; Perchance to revel in the spray, Or moisten the dry. parching sod, Or mingle in the fountain's play, Or sparkle in the bow as God. There's nothing lost—the seertlat'Vast By careless hand upon the ground, Will yet take root, and msy at last A green aqd glorious tree be- found; --- Beneath its shade, some pilgrim may Bcek shelter from the heat of noon, While in its !Roughs the breezes play, And song birds sing their sweetest tune. There•'s nothing lost—the slightest tone, Or whisper from a loved one's voice. May melt a heart of hardest stone, And make a saddened heart rejoice; And then, again, the careless word, Our thoughtless lips too often speak, May touch a heart already stirred, And cause that troubled heart to break. There's nothing lost—the faintest strain, Of breathings from some deer one's lute, In memory's dream may come again, - Tho' every Inoefnitil stt.ing be mute,, The music of some happier hour— • The harp that swells with love's own words, leifiy thrill the soul with deeper power, When still the heart that swept its .cords, WHAT IS !SW ? Love is heaven and heaven is Wire; This is all of heaven above; There 'nOenvy, wrath, nor strife, Mars the bliss of''endless life. There no anger swells the breast: . There no pride disturbs the rest; Nor can hatred dwell above In that world of perfect loin. IKXMCUEIMaXa.it!LWIr. THE FACTORY GIRL. BY AMY RANDOLPH. It was a little studio, quite at the top of the house. Upon the easel that occupied the . post of honor in the middle of the room, a piece of canvas glowed with the soft tints of a spring louden .e and Frank Se moor etood - bifere it, palette in hoed, his large brown eyes dreamy with a sort of inspira tion. In a comfortablo easy chair by the door sat a plump, rosy little female, in a lace 'cap with plenty of narrow, white satin ribbon fluttering from iOnd a silver-grey poplin dress—Mrs. Seymour, is fact, our artist's mother, who hod just come up from the very basement "to see how Frank was getting a long." "Here, mother," said the young man,witli an enthusiastic sparkle in his eyes, "just see the way that sunset light touches the top most branches of the old 'apple tree. I like the brown, subdued, gold of that tint, it some how reminds me of Grace Teller's hair " Mrs. Seymour moved a little uneasily in her chair. "Yes, it's very pretty; but it atrikes me, Frank, yen are lately discovering a good many similitudes between Miss Teller and your pictures." Frank laughed good-hnmoredly. "Well, mother, she r*s pretty." "Yes, I don't deny that she's pretty e nough." "Now, mother, whitt's the meaning of that ambiguous tone I" demanded the young ar tist, pleasantly. "What have you discovered about Miss Grace Teller, that isn't °bairn. leg and womanly and loveable ?" "Frank, do you know who she is F" "Yes, 1 know that she's a remarkable pret ty girl, with a voice that sounds exactly like thelow, soft rivulet where I used to play when I was a boy. • "Nonsense," said Mrs. Seymour, sharply. "Well, then, if you're not satisfied with description of' her as she is, would you like-to-kouw what she will be ?" - Mrs. Seymour looked puzzled. "Mother, I think she will one day be my wife !" "Frank ! Frank ! are you crazy F" "Not that.l know of," said Mr Seymour, composedly, squeezing a little deep blue on . his palette out of a dainty -tin tube,stod mix ing it, thoughtfully. "We-know ao little about her," thought Mrs. Seymour. "To be sure, she is visiting Mary Elton, and Mary belongs 'to a very 'good family, if she does live 'in half:* house, and tikein fine, embroidery far _Bat then he was no style at all compared with Pynthia. -Parker, and Cynthia always • did fauoy our Frank. Then, moreover, she has five or six .thousand'dollars of her owe . But, dear me I a young man .love is the Moat 'headstrong creature alive T Mrs _Seymour, mused :a -while longer, and Allen . prat, on .her mouse colored silk bonnet ittd-gray.shawl and set out upon a ton: of WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY HORNING, NOVEMBER 30, (866. investigation. "I'll find out . something about Miss Teller, or I'll know the reason why," thought the indefatigable Widow. Miss Grace Teller was "at Nome, " helping Mary Elton in ais elaborate piece of fine em broidery. The room where the two girls sat was very plain, carpeted with the cheapest ingrain and curtained with very ordinary pink and white chintz, yet it look ed / snug and cheery. for the fat blackbird was chirp ing noisily in the window, and a stand of mignionette and velvet ,blessomed pansies gave a delicate refinement to the details of everyday. life. . Mary Elton was pale, thin, and not at a4l petty, though there walOtoemulons sweet. ness about her mouth that seemed t 3 whis per that she might have been very different under different circumstances.. Grace Teller was a lovely blonde. with large blue -eyes, rose-leaf skin and hair whose luminous gold fell over her forehead like an aureole. As Mrs. Seymour entered a _deeper shade of pink stole over Grace's beautiful cheek, but otherwise she was calm and self.possess, ed, and readily parried• the old lady's inter rogatories. • "Very worm this morning," said the old lady, fanning herself. "Do they have so warm weather where you come from, Miss Teller ?" - "I believe it is very sultry in Fdetorville," said Grace,composedly taking another needle ful of white silk. "Factorvllle ?. is that your native place? Perhaps, then, yon know Mr. Parker—Cyn tkia-Parker's fa ther—whois_superintendent_i in the great calico mills there ?" "Very well—l have often seen him." "Are you acquainted with Cynthia ?" "No—l believe Miss Parker spends most of her time in this city." "That's very true," said Mrs. Seymour, sagely. •Cynthia often says there's no society worth haying in Factorville—only the girls that work in the factory; and Cynthia is very genteel. But—excuse my curiosity, Miss Teller—how did you become acquainted with Mr. Parker, an not with his daugh ter ?" Grace colored. "'Business brought me in contect frequent. ly with the gentleman of whom you speak, but I never happened to meet Miss Parker. Mrs. Seymour gave a little start in her ehair—she was beginning to see through the mystery. "Perhaps you have something to do with the calico factory ?" "I have," said Grace, with calm dignity. "A factory girl ?" gasped Mrs. Seymour, growing rad and white. "Is there any disgrace in the title'?" qui etly asked Grace, although her own cheeks were dyed crimson. Disgrace ? Oh, no—Lcertainly not; there's no harm in earning one's living in an honest way," returned Mrs. Seymour, absently.— The fact was,.she was thonking In her inmost mind, "What will Frank say ?" and antici. pating the flag of triumph she was about to wave over him. • "I do not hesitate to confess," went on Grace,looking Mrs. Seymour full in the eyes, "that to the calico factory I owe my daily bread." Veryituallkle,_rm_snre,'2_said_tba_old_ lady, growing a little uneasy under the blue, clear gaze, "only—there are steps and gra dations in all society, yod know, and—and am a little surprised to find you so intimate with Miss Ettort, whose family Mary came over•to Grace's side, and stoop. ed to kiss her cheek. "My dearest friend—my most precious companion," she murmured, "I should be quite lost without her, Mrs. Seymour." The old lady took her leave stiffly, and did not ask•G race to return 'her call, although she extended an invitation to Mary, couched in the politest and most distinct terms. "Frank!" she ejaculated, never oftce stop. ping to remove shawl or bonnet, and'burst ing into her son's studio like an express mes• sengei of life-and-death news, "who do you suppose your paragon of a Miss Teller is?" "The loveliest of her sex," returned nook, briefly and comprehensively.. "A factory girl!", screamed the old lady at the height of her lungs, "a fac—to— o -rygirll" "Well, what of that?" "What of that? Frank Seymour, you never mean to say that you would, have any thing to say to a common factory girl;" "I should pronounce her a very uncommon factory girl, mother," said the young man, with aggravating calmness. • "Frank, don't jest with' me," pleaded the poor little mother, with tears in her eyes Tell me at once that you will give up this idle fancy for a girl who is in no respect e• qual to you." "!No—she is in no respect my eqnal," re turned Freak, with reddening cheek and sparkling eye, "but it is because she is in every respect my superior. Grace Teller is one of the noblest women that ever breathed this terrestial air, as wc.ll as one of the most beautiful. • Mother, I love her, and she has promised to be my wife." Mrs. Seymour hat down, limp, lifeless and despairing. "Frank, Frank, I never thought to sea my son merry a factory girl!" And then a torrent of tears came to her relief, while Frank went on quietly touching up the mallet foliage of a splendid old maple in the foreground of his picture: . "So you ' are determined to marry me, Frank, in spite of everything?" was Teller had been crying; the dew was yet on her eyelashes, and the unnatural crimson on her cheeks, as Frank Seymour came, in, and Mary. Elton considerately slip ped out "to search for a missing pattern." should rather think so," said Frank looking admiringly' down on the,golden head that woe stooping .among the pansies; "But your mother thinks me far below you in social position." Iti.aekPOziete*it43xll.lltr Nemcreparoer., "Social position be—ignored! What do I bare for social position, as loig as my little Gracie has - consented to make the sunshine of my 'home!" "Yes, but, Frank --" "Well, but, Grace?" "Do yoti really love me?" For answer he took both the fair, delicate little hands in his, and looked steadily into her eyes. - "Frank," said Grace Teller. dimurely. "I'm afraid you'll make a dreadfully strong willed, obstinate sort of a husband.' "I shouldn't wonder, Gracie." And so the golden • twilight faded' into a purple, softer than the shadoiv of eastern ame thysts, and the stars came out, one by one, and still Frank find Gracie talked en, and still Mary Elton didn't succeed in finding that pattern. - Mrs. Seymour was the first guest to arrive at Mrs. Randall's select soriee 'on the first Wednesday evening in July; the fact was, she wanted .a chance to confide her grief to Mrs. Randall's sympathetic oar. "Crying? Yes, of course I have been crying, Mrs. Randall—l've done nothing but cry for a week." "Mercy upon .us," said Mrs. Randall, ele vating-her-kid-gloved_hands, "what is the matter? I hope Frank isn't in any sort of trouble?" e' My dear," said the old lady, in a mysteri• ous whisper, "Frank has been entrapped— inveigled into the most dreadful entangle ment. Did you ever fancy that he, the most fastidious and particular of created be ilogs,_could_be_resolutely,determined on-mar "rying--a factory girl?" Mrs. Randall uttered an exclamation of horrified surprise, and at the same moment a party o f guests were announced, among whom was Miss Grace Teller, looking rather more lovely than usual, "Well," thought Mrs.. Seymour, as her hostess hurried away to welcome the new comers, "will wonders never cease? Grace Teller at Mrs. Randall's soiree! But I sup pose it kali on account of Mary Elton's uncle, the judge. Here come Mr, Parker and Cynthia—dear me, what a curious mix ture our American society is; how they will be shocked to meet Grace Teller!" Involuntarily she advanced a step or two to witness the meeting. Mr. Parker looked quite as much astonished as she had expect ed, but somehow it was not just the kind of astonishment that was on the programme. "Miss Grace? You here? Why, when did yoti, come from Factorville?" "You aro acquainted with Miss Teller?" asked Mrs. Randall, with some surprise. "Quite well; in fact, I have bad the man agement of her property for some .years.— Miss Teller is the young lady who owns the extensive calico factories from which ourvil lage takes its name." "Dear mel" ejaculated Mrs. Seymour; turning 'pale, and sinking down upon a divan near her. "Why, they say the heiress of the old gentleman who owned the Factorville property is the richest. girl in the county." "Grace," said Frank, gravely and almost sternly, "what does this meaor The blue eyes filled with tears as she clung closer to his arm. "I can't help owning the calico factories, Frank. Don't yon love me just as well as if "My little deceiver! But why didn't you tell me?" "Why should I tell you, Frank? It was so nice to leave the heiress behind, and be plain Grace Teller for a while And when I saw how opposed your mother was to our engage ment, a spark of woman's wilfulness rose up within me, and I resolved I would maintain my incognito, cote what might. Mrs. Sey mour," she added, turning archly round and holding out her hand to the discomfited old lady, "didn't I tell you that I owed my daily bread to the factory?" And poor Mrs Seymour, for once in her life, was at a loss for an answer. NOVEL Pat —A Boston Gift Concert offers the following unique prizes : The con tractor who•was honest during the war; the politician who refused office; the doctor who cured as quick as he could; the woman who will not flirt and wears an old bonnet to church; the gentleman who gives up his seat to a lady in a horse ear, - and the lady who thanks him; the wife 'who believes her husband sat up with a sick friend; the man who did find the place for his night key af ter midnight; the lady who was satisfied with her bonnet, and who never looks about in church to see how her neighbors were dress ed; the clergyman who declined to eat roast turkey on general fast days, &to. There is a place in Union county, Georgia, west of the Blue Ridge, where wore than one hundred tracks of animals—Jhe, bear, deer, fox, lion, horse, ete,—may be seen dis tinctly imprinted in what is now solid rock. One horse track is 18 by 12 inches,and must have been the animal ridden by the great warrior whose track appears near by, being that of a human foot seventeen and a half inches in length, with six toes—a regular sea of thunder. All the other tracks are of the natural size. An allusion to these sing. tiler relies of a by, gone age is wade in a late copy of the . Air Line Eagle, published in Gaiaenille. They were described in detail years ago by travolors. DRINIUSO nv . Ttfl A zias —"Come in and take a drink, eh ri acid Tim Al'Moran to John Nolte's; as the latter was returning wea ry and worn from his day's labor, "No," replied Noke; "I've made up my mind that I can do better with hind than to drink it." "Who's asked you to drink land, I'd like to know ?" "Well ; I find that every time I drink six pence worth of liquor I drink more then a good Pgunre yard of land worth three hun dred dollars an acre." A Lii‘tryer with Two Characters. " One cold evening in Novemhir, ten years ago, a man wrapped in a large cloak knock ed at the door of Mons. Dupin, one of the most able advocates of Paris. lie entered, and drawing from under his cloak a large package of documents, laid them on the ta ble. • "Monsieur," said be, "I am rich; but a lawsuit, which is commenced against me, may ruin me utterly. At my age a, lost fortune 6 not to be re•made.' The loss of this suit therefore, would condemn me to the most frightful misery. I come to implore your aid. Here are the papers which explain my claims." The able advocate listened attentively while his unknown visitor thus briefly ex plained his business. Then, opening the bundle of documents, he went through them with the searching rapidity of his profession- al eye. They were at last laid upon the table. "The action which is commenced ag ainst you for this property" said he, is base d up on justice and right, legal and moral. But, untortionately, in spite of the admirable e laboration of our code, law and justice do not always go together; and• here the law is on your - side. 1.4 - th - ereforeiyou - rest your - case entirely on the law, and use without reserve all its technicalities and quibbles, Ind' if the legal points in your favor are all clearly and ably stated to the court, you will inevitably gain your cause." "No man living," said the straner, can do what you describe so ably as yourself DI igh ture-to-hope-that-you-would-re duce your. legal opinion to writing, and thus render me invulnerable?' The advocate reflected a minute or two, and then taking up again the documents which at the first word of the request he had pushed away, he said he would do as the stranger wished. On the morrow, at the same hour, the legal opinion would be ready. The client was punctual. The paper was presented to, him—accompanied with a de mand, very abuiptly made, i f or a fee of three thousand francs! Be stood mute with astonishment. "You are at liberty to keep your Tandy," said the lawyer, "and I am at liberty to throw my written opinion into the fire." Advancing towards the chimney apparent ly for the purpose, he was stopped by the visitor. "I will pay the sum," he' said, "but I must give you my written acceptance for it." 'The money in gold,' said the advocate, or you shall not have a line! The client saw that it was inevitable, and, taking his leave for the moment, returned soon - with the coin. He paid it.l—but, in revenge, after gaining his cause, be told the story in every corner of Paris. The. jour nals got hold .of it. It was soon as univer sal as the name and fame of the great lawyer himself. Laments were made by the editors over the grasping advantage thus taken of a client in hia extremities, and even friends expressed their regrets to him for his betray-.' al of avarice. But he simply shrugged his shoulders; and as every thing is soon forgot ten in Paris, it passed out of the public mind. Ten years went by; and a few days since at a celebration of which the dignities of the Courts of Law formed a part, the pro cession-was—in terrupted—by—a—woman—who suddenly sprang from the crowd and seized the hands of Mons. Dupin, the Proeureur General. 'lt is het it is he!'. she exclaimed as she burst into tears, and 'covered his hands with kisses. ' this is my benefactor, my friend, the angel by whose timely kindness' I was saved from ruin and spared to educate my chil dren. Poor won:taut—said M. Dupin, she has lost her reason. But, noishe insisted on explaining to the bystanders that there was reason in her tears and gratitude. She stated it brokenly.— Ten years ago, after the death of her hus band, a claim was put in by a relative. for the property upon which she relied to support and educate her ohildfen. She resolved to defend her possession of that which — she knew to be her own, and had already sold half her furniture to pay'tho commencement of the proaess—when one day, a stranger called upon her. Hs abruptly announced his business. He told her that the suit, for which site was already running into expense, would bo a long one—that the law was a gainst her, though justice was on her side —that she had better abandon it and save what she still possessed. He then ' added, that, from having • been employed on the ease, he had been able to rescue some por• tion of what was wrongfully taken from her, and that it was contained in the bag of gold, which he laid on the table—abruptly taking his leave, and giving her astonished sense no opportunity for thanks or inquiry The three thousand francs with which she was thus enriched, enabled her to re-establish herself with her children, and to . commence a timely support of them. And from that'day she had been trying in vain to discover who was her benefactor.— 'But his features were ougraven on her heart, and, thank God, she recognized and could thank him now!' • And 90; after ten years of misappreciation Mons. Unpin's "grasping • avarieck" was ex plained to his legal brethren. A Dutchman at Decatur married a nand wife in about a week after the loss of wife No. 1. The Sabbath following the bride ask ed her lord to take her'riding, and was duly "out up" with the following response; "You fink I ride out mit anoder woman SO soon after the death of mine frau ? No, no. A gonncoticat pcdlor asked an old lady:to who ho was trying to soil some articles, if sun could tell him of any road that no puller bad ever traveled. "I know of bat one, and that is the road to heaven," Was the Open LeOer to the Piesidiiiit A pungent letter to President jOhlison by a painotio GermabPastor of lowa has been already, i iroulatedlathe German. it ought not to be confined to that language; and we. therefore, print below a translation of a part of it:— Sir, • as lam going to say the truth nothing but the ?rah, you will have to ex cuse me if there is no flattery in my words. When you were nominated for the Vice Presidency by a proportionally smart:um ber of men, the people who were to elect you asked no question but one: Who are the-candidates of the War party? Your pro; fessed priooip!es, noryour own person, An drew Johnson the Tennessee loyalist, es yoU then were in energetic opposition to the reb els, received our votes, not A-ndrew Johnson as you •now appear before the tribltnal of God and History,--the associate of Copperheads and friend of noisy rebel sympithizers, and the idolized saint of all traitors and criminals! The nation, Wide awake, sympathizing in every State,- North, West, and Bast, with the noble majority oJ Congress, is in a blaze of indignation at your messages, your vetoes, your speeches. You are accused, by all true lovers of the Union,' of violating its dearly bought rights and liberties, of usurping in a tyrannical way the rights belonging exclu eve?", to the legislative bodie.s of Congress, of working to re•enslave the freedmen, and of doing not only all in your power, but ten fold more than the Constitution allows, to fa vor actual rebels and future rebellions.— Confidence has vanished, and nothing but 1 -tbe_most_heartfelt_clistrust_of_the_So_vercign nation towards its first servant remains. You call yourself a Christian. Woe to you, then, if the oryof distress from the dy ing lips of a persecuted people finds no wry to your heart I You should then know that the blood of thousands of black people, spilt with your. connivance, will in God's judg ment come upon your own soul ! If you do not tremble lest these poor crea tures, who had given their blood in streams that you might have the opportunity of ever becoming President, will stand batweeri you and the peace of Jod, remember at least that God will judge you by your deeds and your omissions. Would you have done it, Reader ? itlr. Beecher related the following inci dent in one of his sermons : "Not long ago, a gentleman who was en gaged in the oil business had made some twelve or fifteen thousand dollars and he con• eluded that he ,had made enough—extraor dinary as it may seem—and that he would wind up his affairs and come home. I do not believe oat of you would have done it ! Fifteen thousand dollars ! Why, that is.just enough to bait the trap of mammon ! Well, hp 'wound up his affars, and was on t.he,point of leaving, when he was met by a young man of his' acquaintance (I believe they both teside in New Yotk,) who had invested six thousand dollars, all he had, in an experi mental Mid had been boring and boring until he 'had given out in 'discouragement.— And coming to this man; be said, shall lose six thousand dollars if I am obliged to give up my interest in that well,' and beg ged' him to take it off his hands. lam sell. ing out, not taking on,' said the man. - But the young man pled with lr and out of perional kindiTesa he said, cry take it.' In two days they struck a vein in this well, and it was an immensely fruitful well, and he said his share 'for $200,000. The younglnin was. present Whett;the oheoh was drawn on New York for the amount,and he felt like death, and ,• mourned, and said, 'lt is always my luck; I am • always a little too late,' And the man said, 'You may take ten thousand of it, if you want.''' The young man thought ho was jesting, but he , assured him that ho was not, and said, will - make it twenty thousand, if it will do you any good' Or, said he, 'I will make it fifty thou send."Well, said he take the whole of it; Ido not want it. Give me the six thousand, and.you may have the advantage of the good luck,' And so ho gave the young man the two hundred thousand. ' All of you that Would have done that, may rise up !" •=132 Women Judged-by the Color of their Petticoats. The following is from a married man, who knows whereof ho speaks : "The way to judge of a woman's character at first sight, is to ascertain the Color of her petticoat. A black petticoat indicates low spirits, a hatred of wash tubs and activity; and a taste fot 'dyspeptic literature and quietude. A lady who wears a blank petticoat could no mole read and understand, this paragraph than she could suck up the Atlantic with a three cent syringe. A white petticoat shows a character just opposite—an unsullied mind' and a taste for romance. A woman who takes naturally to . white petticoats, and nev er wears any other, is ao institution to which young ;gentlemen of connubial proclivities should lose no time in paying due attention. The red petticoat, however is something of which mankind should beware; it is the in signia of Xantippo, a style of females who cut their too nails with flier husbands' ra zors." It may 011ie true, as the fellow 'says, but the petticoat *something we never heard, of before, and consoquently we plead, ignor ance of the 'dieter. ulatter. • Somebody ought to turnblo the, editor of the• ‘Vileox County News into the Alabama, and put a couple of bars of pig -metal on him until he learns to keep cool. lie is Wig. 'nant at the deolaratiou of Hall's ,Journal of Llealth, that a husband and wife.should sloop in separate •rooms, declaring that , Dr. flail can sleep how, when and where he pleases, but for himself, be intends to sleep where be can defend his wife against the rats and all other. nocturnal foes as long as be bas got one to defend. A girl if; olways.leunt' Thou the CRUM. a felluw to .60 !or' am Saieckx,,ziTsreeivi, . . A Fran , COVHIN'S limit. —A farmer tho western imit of, Massachusetts applied to the' proper authorities: for a 114 cense-to keep a hotel. It was • replied that .he, lived on a by road little traveled, • and 'where entertainment was sehlon openly ask ed for. • I know it, he answered, and 'yet there is considerable demand for horse-feeding and single meals of victuals. The result was, that Ms application was granted. He raised his - sign, "Entertain ment for man and beast," and'from that houi his traffia fell•off. In two years Limo he dis appeared from the list of • landlords of the county, and the sign' as removed. Our informant asked him, 'What in • the name of common sense induced the man to ask for a license?' ' I had most excellent reasons for the appli cation. Before I raised my sign I had lots of cousins, more thau I had any ,idea of, to visit me, to . feed their horses, themselves, and to'stop over night. As soon as I hung out my sign, my eonsins began to fall off, and in a year or more not one came to see me. Keeping a hotel has , killed that busi ness. BLESSED LAND —The Louisville Courier paints up Brazil in these tropical colors : "There may be found spiders with bodies two inches and legs seven inches long, that catch and suck birds; butterflies that are-mis.-- taken for humming birds; green snakes, just like creeping ploirs, and a lively coral snake with bands of vermillion and black, sepera ted by clear white_rings;_nsonkeys_with_whita_ hair all over, them; apes that sleep all day and are remarkably lively all night. The reptiles, insects, and two thirds of the fruit and berries are poisonous; and the birds, though boasting brilliant plunirge, are song less. MANHOOD AND WOMANHOOD.—Who are you, young man, young woman, living •in this country and age, and yet doing nothing to benefit others ? Who are you-:--blessed with body and intellect, and yet an idler in the busy workshop of life? Who are you with immortal soul, and yet that soul so deaf to the myriad voices all about you that call to duty and to labor? Arise! and be a faith ful toiler. God calls you - -humanity calls you—and they have both a right to all your , powers. Arise! Make your whole life ona scone of industry I Arise and go - forth, and every moment your feet shall press or your hand' touch some pedal or key in the "organs. that shake the nniierse." Arise !• there is• work for you to do. You were crested to toil and bear a hand where the bombers of time are ringing as they fashion the fabric of eternity. FALL as THE LEAF.—The season of the fall of the leaf has come again, with all its sad and salutary teachiogs. Who can shut his hearts against its lessons ? Who as , he sees the frost-withered leaf driven by the fit ftil winds, is not reminded that such is 1 1 hu man life Even as the leaf when-the frost has dried up its sap, and its stem clings, no more; to the <parent tree, .so is our life. It may be green to-day and float gaily upon the summer breeze, but the frosts of death are gnawing at its stem, and we know' Hot if it _shalLwava Mop tononow t _et_b • :- way by the wintry blasts to eternity. Hap. py aie we, if Nature preaches not to us in vain, in this her solemn day. young lady once addressed ber - lover in these terms: I like you exceedingly, but cannot quit my home. lam a widow's only darling, and uo husband could equal my pa tent in kindness. She may be kind, replied her wooer enthusiastaetilly, but be my wife --wo• will all live together, and see if I don't beat your moilscr! Female friendship is to a man tbe bul work,.Bweetner, ornament of' his existence.— To his mental culture it is invaluable; with out it, all his knowledge of books will never give biro knowledge of the world. What is that which occurs once in-a min ute, twico in a moment, and not once in • a thousand years ? The letter M. An old lady, hearing somebody . say the mails were very irreg ular, said : "It was just so in my young d ays—no trusting any of 'em." Love. the toothache, smoke, a cough, and a tight boot, are things which cannot possi bly be kept secret very long. A lady, whose' husband has deserted her, says: . 'May two hundred and forty-seven nightmares trot quarterly races• over his stomach every-night,' This probably will be a relief to what he has endured. An Irishman being asked to. define hard drinking said 'it was aitting on a rock and sipping_ cold water.' It is very easy to get up a meteoric dis play on a dark eight by running your'nose violently against a lamp post. Too LATE.-It is not until late in life that we begin to feel and to underatand, the import of the words--too late. Iltimr—'tiloPe is like the wing oten.fiff. gel soariug up to 'leaven,. and bears our prayers to tho throne of God " • Al! women bare hearts, but often it is with them , es with .oaks—the heart is the hardest part. Somebody says that4he wird) tveighot 1,- 256,1115,070,006,UUt1,000,000 turps. At least five' hundred tuiliiims ot - the li t b. el buutls , qe,helil in I:>igitiuti._ NUMBER 22
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers