. . . _ . . • z ) ' . . . ~ ,• . . • ' -- L 7'-'4 : 47; ) • • • >. . . • - . . -:: . :2 - ' 4 . - .... - ''. 1 . • ffr.7 4 ' 3.- • - • , . . _ ... ~,.. ..... ~ . .....,. ' • - • ki:ill f - V l' , ' ',- i- ' ' '1."...i , r • . .....„..,.„..„.„, •,:,,..:. •,„..,,,,,,,„,,,:„. 4 ;rw'll , ` . . 4 . • ..?. ' ,54 :1 4 ..- '' .; --, 7 • : . . ' , -7 . -•-• ' ' 4 ;1' . (7 '. • '.r % :1' - - - .. s * S• i - f '.' ... " ' ..,• .. c . , • ! .;. ~.1%," .. 7' . ,11 , , iiitits.,' ....< ~-27, ... A - . - '•.:-:.'-;.:. • • , ::-.,- •:! f••-••:-. - - .. ...5.':•••• • v-•-t7-,c - ,;;e z ..'-,_•- , .et',.11-\ - - . - 1:.-. - - -, - „t . . -,- c' Marian Harlan was alone in the world r her mother just buried. She watt a beautiful, brown haired girl, with soft shy eyes, violet and rosy lips cow pressed to a ficinness tar beyond her years For after all she was scarcely seventeen and so Deacon Gray was telling her, as he sat by the fire spreading his huge • hands over the tardy blaze and asked: 'Hut what are you goin' to do to 'am your .bread and butter, child?' 'I don't know—l haven't thought—mam ma hid an uncle in New York who—' 'Yes, sea—l've heern tell about him—he was malt 'clause got r mother didn't tnarry just to suit hint, wasn't be?' Malian was silent Deacon Gray waited a felt minutes, hoping site would admit him into her secret meditations; but she did not, and the Deacon went away home, to tell his wife 'that Harlan gal was the very queerest creature be had ever come across.' In the meanwhile Marian was Luny pack ing her few bcanty things into a. little car pet hag, by the weird flickering light of.tho dying wood fire _ 'l—will — go to New York,' she said to herself setting her small pelt) ly teeth -firmly together 'My mothet'a uncle ball hear my cause pleaded through my own lips. . Oh, I wish my heart w..u'd not throb so widely!— I ant no longer meek ill ionic Harlan; I am an orphan all abide in the world who must fight life's battleiwith my own single hands ' Lower Broad Way at seven o'eloek, D. M. What a babel of crashing wheels, hurrying humanity. and conglomerate noi-e it wasl Ainnie Harlan sat in the corner of an ex press office under the glare of gas lights, turrounded by boxes, and wondering whet!' er the people ever went crazed in this per petual din and tumult. Her dress was very plain—gray poplin with a shabby old fash ioned bonnet tied with black ribbons, and a blue veil, while her articles of baggage, iu carpet bag, lay in her lap She had sat 'there two hours!, and was very, very tired. Toor little thing,' thought the dark hair. .young clerk nearest tier, who inhabited a sort of wire cage under n circlet dos tights, And then he took up his p d en and plungt into a perfect Atlantic Oie.n of accounts: M r. Evan,!' •Sit!' The dark liaired rilerit emerged from his tithe with his pen. behind his oar, i n ob e di.. enee to the beckoning finger of his eure• 'I have no"c , :ti that yang woman witting tliaie t'r some time—hoir Ex p-e4sed on. air, from , 311 arrived this nitortionii A th , •11!.:11 Minnie Harlan [ aper prep,. .Whof fur?' q..7ousigutd, to Walter IT4rringtnn, why Wan t. she been called for?' '1 sent up. to Mr. Harrington's address to o itity him, aJrne time ap; I 4 xpect an au- Byer every m ;Very orLd,' said th , gray-h: ired gemic• man, taking; up his LlCWspaper. RiT, rather.' 'Suit ilticc quarters of au hour al.:envoy:ls, 11R - DER F ank Evans came to the pale girl's side with an indescribable pity in his hazel eyes. 'Miss flarlan,,we have sent to Mr. Bar rington's residence— 'Minnie looked up with a feverish red up on her cheek, and her hands clasped tightly on the handle of a faded carpet bag. '—And we regret to inform you that he sailed for Euro le at twelve o'cleek_thie_day" A sudden blur came over Minnie's eyes— shc trembled like a leaf. In all her calculi tlo k , 64 1rl she had made no allowance for any emer ency like this. 'Ca we do anything further for you?' ilsiothin&—no one can do anything for me Frank Evens had been turning away, but something, in the pitious tone of ner voice appealed to every manly instinct in him. 'Shall I send you to any of your friends.' have no friends' 'Perhaps I can have your things sent to some quiet family hotel?' Minnie opened her little-leather-purse and showed him two ten cent pieces, with a.smile that was almost a tear. 'This - is - ail - the money I have in-the world sir.' So young-. -- so — b - e - trutifut - , -- and eo desolate? Frank Braes had been a New Yorker all his life, but had never met with an exactly par- allel case to this. He bit the end of his pen in dire perplexity. 'But what are you going to do?' 'I don't know, sir. Isn't there a work house or some such place I could go to until I could find something to do?' --LHardly.' Freak could scarcely_help smi , . • dug at px - mr . ,ii - vicire - s sum limy. 'They - are putting out the lights, and pre -par-i-n-g-t-o-close-th e--offloc,!--eaki--31-innie,--s-tar ing to her feet. 'I must go somewhere.' ---:%lies Harlan,' said Frank, qu i e tly, 'my house is very poor one—l am only a five hundred dollar olerk—bnt I am rare my mother will welcome you under her roof for a-day - or two, if you can trust me.' 'Trust rket.____' iaintlit—looked_..at-hi , • - • eat eyies_ohsratred—iu-tears 'Coh,.• , should be so thankful!' 'How late you are Frank! Hero, give me your overcoat—it is all powdered with snow; and— _ But Frank interrupting his bustling, cher ry•cheeked mother, as she• stood on tip-toes to take off his outer wrappings. • 11 nob, mother! there is a young lady down stairs.' 'A young lady, Frank?' i l 'Yes, mother, nzpressed on to, old Her. rington, the rich merchant, from owe. Ile sailed for en tirely alone. Mother, she looks like poor Man( b-, %rid 1 knew you wouldn't refuse her a corner here until she could find something ,- ,-, 7 ,'- - Mrs Evans trent to the door and called eh - eerily out. 'Cortup_etairtton_v_chan_._--y_olu_'re welcome vs flOvrers in 'May. Frank _yell did quite right, you always do.' • The, days and weeks passed on, and still Minnie Harlan remained an inmate of Mrs Evans' tumble home. It sorms just as tho' she had takerLpur dead Blanche's place . ' said the oozy little widow, 'and she is so useful a bout the house. 1 don't know ,how I mana ged without her' 'Now Minnie, you aro not in earnest about leaving us to-tnorrowr • 'I must dear Mrs Evans. Only think— I have been here two months to morrow; and the situation as governess is very advanta gPnnS.' `Very well I shall tell Frank how obsti nate you are.' 'Dearest Mrs. Evans, please don't. Please keep my secret.' .‘What secret is it, that is to be PO religi ously kept?' asked Mr. Frank Evans, coolly walking iuto the midst of the discussion, with his.dark hair tossed about by the wind, and his hazel eyes sparkling archly 'Secter?' repeated Mrs. Evans, energetic ally wiping her dim spectacle glasses. 'Why Minnie is determined to leave us tomor row' must, Frank. I hare no right further to trespass; on your kindness.' 'No eli? Minnie do you know that the house has been a different house since you came into into ,it? Do you suppose we want to lose our, little sunbeam? 'Minnie smiled sadly, but her hand felt very cold and passive in Frank's warm gritsp. 'You'll hmy, 'No , She nilook her head d3terrninedly. "nen you rnm,t be made stay,' saki Fimic. 'Pre missed something of great value lately and I.hert+by arrest you Cu suspicion of the thert.' ')Based nometbingr awl turned red nod white. `Oh, Frank 3ou can never rulpeet me?' 'But I do enweet .you. In fact, I am quite euro the article is io your po , smion ' 'The article!' 'My heart.. Minnl ! Now' In-it here; I lovelnu, Minnie 'lerlan, and I will be a good and true liusbar4ci to you. Stay, be my wife,' So Minnie [Tartan. instead of ~, o ing out ac irweroogg, stec alliog to the progr4inn, mar- Tied the d4tk-haired e!erl: iu the Ellison's Express t.frie,e . 1 hey were r:ery quietly married, early in tie rnornintr., nntt Frank rank 31innie to his two tie , 'and [hint went. calmly 'about his bu siness in the wire co s, under the eire'et of prat lights. h.', ra Frank, with his pen behin I his ear aq o! yore ipietlf obeyed lite behost Z 1 the gray. headcri Do you remember the young woman who was expteaNml on from .1111ington, lowa, two month?, since?' A tall, silver bairci gentleman here inter prwed with eager flint linr:g4 .Where i= sh Y ! s n, her Im-re. IV,i!ter I 1 rriu 4 ;ton Inlye titurkei 1, in Paris when the news of her arrival reneged Me. I want her; she is the only re „Live left me. - • 'AM but, sir,' said Frank, 'you can have her.' \ 'Can't have her? What do ea mean , Has anything happened?' ,-,_ 'Yes, sir, something has claspp ed; MO. II allan_wm_mar*d_this—mot ning-. ----- Walter Harris on started. 'Take me to her,' he said hoarsely, be parted from my ova relative for wonder if he calls the marriage ces and wedding ring mere 'whims,' thl honest Frank; but he obeyed in silent( \ 'Minnie,' said the old man, in fa acbents, 'you will come to me and be daughter of old age? I am rich, Minaie, you are all I have in the world.' But 31 innie stole her hand through husband's arm. 'Dearest uncle, he was kind- to me was most desolate and alone. I e' leave my husband, uncle Walter—' him ' 'Then you must both of you come and be my children,' said the old man, doggedly. And you must come now, for the great house is lonely as a tomb'. Frank Evans is no longer an express clerk, and pretty Minnie moves in velvet and dia monds; but they are quite as happy as they were in the old days, and that is saying enough. Uncle Walter Harrington grows older and feebler every day, and his two children are the sunshine of his declining lite. --- • 40 ae The Last Hours - of Washington. ied-tis-he-ti-tedrati-d—what--s-heantiftd economy there W2R in his death! Not a faculty was impaired, not an error had mar red the moral of his life. At sixty-six, not quite three score and ten, be was taken away whilst his example was perfect. He took cold, alighted the syniptons, saying, 'Let it_ ofiftiT-fth s=it - caur I 1 ' ■ • • ta :r, 1799, ho fe t severe illness; calling his overseer, Mr. Rawlings, to. bleed him. lle was agitated, mid Washington said to him, 'Don't be afraid.' When - about to tie up his arm, he said with difficulty, 'more.' Alter all efforts bad failed, he designated the paper he meant for hie will, then turned to Tobias Lear and said, 'I And I am going; my breath cannot continue long. I believed from the first it would be fatal. Do you arrange and record all my military letteri and papers, ariango my accounts and settle my hooks, as you know more •about them than any one else, and let Mr. Rawlings finish recording my other letters which he has begun.' - Between five and six o'clock he said to his phy.i '.. Ir *, ' fed a , 'self :oing• you as setter sot take any more trouble a bout me, but let me go off quietly; I cannot last long.' Shortly after, again he said, `Doctor, I die hard, but lam not afraid to go; I behaved 'from my first attack I should not-eufiere it; my breath cannot last long,' A viral - attemptsbout-tun-a'cktel-hr marl to speak to 2dr. Lear, and at last said, am just going. Dave me decently berried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than two days after I am dead.' Lear says, bowed assent.' lie looked at me a gain and said, 'Do you understand me?' I replied 'yes, sir.' 'Tis well,' said he.' And these were his last words. Just before he expired he felt his own pulse; his hand fell froth his wrist, and George Washington was no more WOMEN IN THE BIELE.—Tho 13ihle is the book of woman. It is the only book ranch has come down from the misty ages of antiquity that presents us with walnut" as the equal and meet for man. •From Eve, the mother of all living, to Mary; the mother ofJesus, woman always ocoupies' a conspieu- • ous place in , the grand drama of the world's history. flare she is seen as wifo anti moth or, filling her,mission with shrinking modes. ty 'and gr.t.ntlo firmness liriatn and Debo rah, Rebecca and Ruth, Sarah and Esther, shine forth in character at once original . , uo awe, zonsistent and feminine. Oa a still .i.:lller canvas and hrigh ter colors are drawn the choruct • • to' the Marthas, Marys, and tytlyias, of the tw Testament. here rimy will roman Utterer. Not forward, nr.t de parting from her sphere, and immodest, not inanuatte. Thu shine, not. like the Fun, hut with a tatliatiee as mild., and gentle as the light of the evening star. • WHERE THEY CAME 1 7 not.—The eucum• her came Irum the East. Indies. Spinach was first cultivated in Arabia The walnut and peach came. from Persia. 'I he horse chestnut is a native of Thibet The chistuut came from Italy. The pear and apple are from Europe. The quince came from the Island of Crete, • The pine is a native of America. The Citron is a native of Greece. The nettle is a native ol'Europe. Ilorse•raJish came from the South of Eu• rope l'eas are supposed to be of Egyptian ori gin (Neu originated in Germany, The uui in originated iu Enpt. Parsley ivas firscknown in Satdinia. The rad sh is a native of China and Ja pan. . 'Pipe garden cress is from g g ypt and the E , st The mulberry origintecd in Persia. Dr. Franklin reccamtnen is a young man in the choice of a wife, to select her from a bunch, giving as his reason that when there are tirtny daughters, they improve each oilier anpfroni emulation acquire more accomptiQh i cn•-••aild know tuna, and du more, than a flll.'le Cakilil spoiled by paternal fondness. This is o , nilort. to people 1., 1 c,i.ed with large Dili] 1.11,6 i, er titan rii h mid 1,1*€.0 We clip the following from the Oiling() Republican, and commend it to the consid eration of every person: What tell us so readily the standard f a r tt, town 'ey as the appearance of its p er? And • s youth and age can as well be de ned , by the observing, by a glance at its ne spa- .011 1110813 t. can't there et - pervaa - the - ugh a personal observation lad been made. The enterprise of its citizens are depicted by its advertisements—their li , - °relay by the - looks - of the paper, Sou). papers show a good, solid, healthy foune tion, plethoric purses, and a well•to-do a . , pearance generally; others show a striving to contend with the grasping thousands around them, trying hard to wrench out an existence % .1) from the elos -fisted community around them. An occa ' nal meteoric display in its columns of telegra hie, or local, or of edito rial, show what it can do if it had the means, but cannot e mu • the expensive .: • until support comes, w h ought to be rea dily granted. A newspap is like a Church; it wants fostering at the c mencement, and for a few years, then, as a general thing it can walk alone, and reflect credit upon its location Take your Home paper: it gives you more news of immediate interest than the New York or other dsstant papers; it talks for Sou when no other will speak in your favor; when other localities belie yott, it stands up for your rights; you always have a champion in your home paper; and those who stand up for you should certainly be well sustained. Your interests are kindred and equal, and you must-rise-or-fall-togeth - er - T lie re foie, it ist_y onr_interest-t o-s u ppor tr-y on r-- home paper, not grudgingly, but in a liberal spirit,:as a pleasure, not as a disagreeable -d-u-t-y 7 -bed-as-an-inTestmerrt-tiret--vr' IP I I repay the expenditure. , i Poor people and Poor Money. In a sermon on the disadvantages of being poor, preached by llenryilVard Beecher last Aveek-ocettrechhtibliiirz: --111-311 from folii is usual', and that arise 3 'weights and spurious currency it ,1 the poor that suffer most. 'Here is a s urious quarter of a dollar._ The mer ehan in whose hand it - chanves to be thought— lessly co ee, (for merchants are always honest) aces it to the trader, and he see ing that it does not look quite right, but not thinking it worth while to scrutinize it too closely, passes it to the grocer; and he glanc. ing at it and not liking the looks of it,.but not wishing to be over particular, and say ing. took it and must get rid of it,' paces it to the market man; and. he, saying,• 'lt might as well be kept traveling,' paces it, as ho is journeying, to the conductor; and he, knowing that it its n:iodi_batt,dislilt-ir-g- _ to ragman, — mTO -- ff — lean, says to himpelt, 'I will keep it and give it to somebody else,' and pasts it to tl e perving•womcn.. She is poor, and a person that is poor is always watched, and when she'offera it, it is disoov crod to be spurious, and is refused; sad shot looks at it, and says, "It is nearly my whole day's wages, bat tt is counterfeit, and of course I must not pass it; and she burns it up, and so is the only honest one among them alll Bad bills, spurious currency, al most always settle on the poor at last. COULDN'T PEAR PROR MUTT —There is a class of mon of whom it is truthfully said, they cannot bear prosperity. When fortune is;ignintit than, they conduct themselves with oorteetness: but let the fickle dame smile up• on them, and they rusk into all sorts of folly and intemperance. Prosperity .has ruined more people who, so long as they had to struggle with the world, were very excellent and exemplary members of society. Tlt ore was a singular illustration of this in the po lice court the other day. A good for-noth ing looking wretch was brought up cha - iged with drunkenness. It was a clear ease.— The testimony showed that ho had been on a spree for a week. He was asked what •he had to say for himself "Wel:, per honor," s /id he, "me and nay old woman never difflive easy together." "That's no excuse for getting drunk," said the court "You're right, yer honor, and so it eitt't. iVe used to fight like cats and dogs togetk- "Prinking only mado it worse," F•ut in the court. "That't, true: she di4oeuraged the Me out of me, and kept me poor, until last week when"— "Well, what did she do last week?" "She cited, yor honor." • "And you have been drunk ever' since!' "Yes. yer honor; I never could bear proF. verity." ClChlren 'mu teach nq one blessing, one enviable art—the hrt of being easily happy Kind nature has given to tltem that t-eful power of 'accommodation to circumstances which compensates for many external dised vantages, and it is only by injudicious man agement, that it is lust. Give him but a moderate portion of food and kindness, and the peasant's child is happier than the duke'; free from artificial MHOS, unsatisfied by in diligence, aul nature mini tore to his plea-ore lie can carve out fe city 'from a bit of h•.z•;1 twig, or fish fur it successfully in a puddle. 1 1 4.TRAMI1 , INARY LONGEVITY.—The Rich. mead Examiner contains the following: `Aunt calmed woman, formerly b o limaing to Capt James M. Harris, resid ing ucar Rockfish Gap, in Nelsen county, Va , died at the residence of that gent:pu r l !) on the 7.h int 4,• in the I.3fith year of . , her a.ze. A colored woman, Honed Caroline •Janmes; died in Richmond on Tuesday, at the advance age of 130 yearn. She was mar • vied t at once and was the mother of tint ry five children She was a Oar() until the r yarn:trim) of Richmond and %VAR the rover ty at that time of Mr. 1). Benjimits 1 1,h . viitua 1. l'iLlli The Home Press LIFE IN A GERMAN VIET AGE.---AR letter written from Germany, says;—Walk through poor quarters of English or Amerloan villages, and the female population is crowed in dens:of filth and wretchedness, passing the time in brawling with one• Rooth , r and screaming after their children, They are pale and diseased ttent-the-effeets-of-porer-•, ty, and crime, and o-thirds of their off springs find an earlyg ve. Here the health and blooming vitality o the poorer classes is won Jarful; their chi i" begin to work a most as soon as they can • lk, and before that time they are no trouble their parents as each town of any size has a "child's gar den," where by paying two is a peasant can have his child washed„ ,d, antl'kept in a comfortable manner all ay. If he has ten children, as most poor nicn have, he can send t tem all atay fora reduced price. When h, and his - WW.fand grown up children come owe there are the little ones all clean, and not at all hungry. Now it seems to me such an institution ought to flourish et home. A N EXCELLENT Ilm.—The way to keep mocey is to earn it fairly and honestly.— Money so obtained• it; pretty certain to abide with its posFe , sor. But money that is inher ited, or that any way comes without a fair and just equivalent, is almost as certain to go as it came. The young man who begins by saving a few shi.liuga, and thriftily" in creases his store—every coin being the rep resentative of gold solid work, honestly man fully done—stands a better chance to spend -the-last half of his life in afflueneo and cont ort thee he w-h-o i —in—ltis—halle to beco• e rich; obtains money hy'dashing spoculati or the devious moans which detail in tween—fair—dealing—a-nil actual fraud- Among the wisest and most thrifty men of i 'wealth the current proverb is, "Money goes as money comes." Let the young maker note of this, and sec that their Janney comes fairly that it maylougia bide with them. I=l SAmon. BOY'S 'EMIL—A vessel WAS overtaken with a terrific' hurricane in tl e middle of the A tlintio Ocean After eve+y _effort to weather the storm, the captain gave this intelligence: "The ship is on her beate ends! She will !Ayer light again! Death is certain!" "Not at all siil not at all air!" cried a little sailor boy,. "God will save us yet!" "Why do you hink so?" said the captain. Because, sir, at this moment they are pitying, Tinder the Bethel flag, in the city of Glasgow,for all sailors in distress, and we are among the number; and God will hear their prayers, 110 - 20, .-e--41- . - -- krdofi t t. " The Capt. exclaimed, with tea-a in his eyes, "God grant that their prayers ma_y-be-heard-inim behalf, my little preacher!" At that mo ment a great wave struck the ship and right ed her. A few days after, the noble ship rode safely into New York harbor.— WILIT II MONETT—Money is independ4 ence. , Money is freedom Money is leisure. Money is the gratification of taste, benevo lence and public spirit. The man is a fool or nn angel who does not try to make money. A clear conFcienee, good health and plenty of money, are among the essentials of a full, joyful ex;stenes. Still unfortunately, it too often happens that people who have an a bundance of money are destitute of charac ter. While it is desirable that men- should have both notwithstanding all the advanta ges of mon •y,-it id better to bare character. KTSSEN'n A QUAKZRZSB —The late Ur, Push used' to tell this story of a brother bar rirtey: AP the coach was about starting be fore breakfast, the modest limb of the law appri , sehed the landlady, a pretty Quakeross, who was near the fire, and said he could not think of going without giving her's kiss.— "Friend, said she, "thee must not. do it." ''Oh, by heavens, I wil:?" replied the barris ter "Well, friend, as thou, haat sworn, thee may do it, but thee Into not make a practice of y A widow lately received a present of a Turkey. " Who sent it?" she asked of the I rish porter. "I was told not to tell," said ho "Ah, I ran guerq," said the laciy.— " 1 , 1," said the por'e•, "that's just what I told De icon Grant." A sailor being asked how ho liked his bride, replied, "Why, (lye ane, t took her for to be only half o. me, as the parson says, but rLi~h me if she i"nt itwice as much as .I. I'm only a tar' but she 'a a tartar." SPUNKY —The g:rls of Northampton have been rending a la Ardor boquets of taneey and wormwood. Fie says he don't care; •hc had rather smell them ti ai matrimony. One iq much. less sensible of cold on a bri , ht (lay than nn a cloudy nne 7 N thus the sunqhine of eheerfulnesa and hope lighten every trouble At a rafil.! im Columbia county. oPridy, a link boy thew a ton of :en #:.403: gave it to two poor old onen• i!o wbn reccires a gond turn should nov er curvet it—he who due.s one should never cmcmher it Tl.- ntly to c:icape a fall is to fear owls owo we:Luc:ls, and not go too fast. Death is a black camel, that kneels before every man's door. The Worni that never dies—The mike- C o m that you have cheated tb© Printer. Nutc is the tinae.'to Eubsoribt ficriho ,e lt,curd. W hen an extravagant friend wishes it imm.w 3 ~ a r wormy, consider which of Ai two you had rather lose. L . O CU 1.0 afau for his I,o7crty 1r 0 Star ER 31