Village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1863-1871, May 10, 1867, Image 1

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    Ely W. Slimly.
VOLUME XX
3poin7,+ma,Ata.3c..
THE UNSEEN%
About us float the odorous gales
That kiss the eternal gills of day;
Oh! that the chilling fog would lift,
And show our waiting feet the way!
We grope about us— seeing not
The miring ones outsile our sight,
Whose viewless hands are clasping ours,
To lead as up the e
That glancing 'tong th'electric line,
_Flash back upon our sodden lives
Some hints of peace and love divine.
cle BO mountains sometimes hide
Behind the vaper'a purpling drift,
Till, pierced by Sol's dim et r ray,
Their girdline shibdavia slowly lift;
So we grope on, 'neath figs of dou l 't,
Our heart in solemn silence bowed;
While God's eternal verities
Are hidden trpm us by a cloud.
When lola kindling glory throws
A sudden splendor o'•er our way,
And, slowly lifting, lo; appear
The whitely shining hills ofday!
And yet not oft—nor yet to all,
These prophecies dna hints are given,
Only as signals sparrely set
A long the battlements of Heaven.
Yet some day, every waiting soul,
Shall see the mists slow rolling hack,
And, freed from clogs of earth and sln,
Walk calmly up the shining track!
'TIS GOOD TO HAVE A FRIEND.
good-to have a warning friend,
In pleasure's sunny day;
When flowers right o'er our pathway bend,
.Ti. easy then to stray.
'Tie good to have a social friend,
In sorrow's dormy day;
It serves to soothe the grief-worn mind,
And drive sad thoughts away.
0, yes, 'tie good when adverse winds
Around our pathway blow,
To have a sympathizing friend
•
In confidence - to go.
Anti 0! when nearing death's cold Wave,
Lire's beating pulse is still,
We then shall need a friend to save, 4
And cheer us through the vale.
One who con aid when earthly friends
No more their aid can lend;
'Whose love beyond the grave extent's,
A constant, changeless friend.
.Methinks I rear a stranger ask,
Who this kind friend may be;
To solve the problem is no task.
Hie word says, "Come and see.'
M=~CI~ZLL.~NY.
THE HERMIT OF THE CLIFF
BY J. rAnisH STELI.E.
At a point not far - from where the roman
tic little Tread water throws itself_ into the
arms of the Ohio, may he seen, standing up•
on tne very verge of a lofty cliff, a small and
singular looking but. Nobody seems to know
anything about it. An.old man lives there
they will tell you, and he may have lived
there since the creation — of — the world, for
aught any one knows to the contrary. All I
have soon him; some have endeavored to get
into conversation with him, bat none have
been able to learn his history—he is provok
ingly iocommunicative.
In Kentucky, as in most other parts of the
country, there are two classes of • citizens—
an uppet and a lower class; an intelligent
and an ignorant class; and consequently there
are two opinions with reference to the 'Old
man on the Cliff' Those of the upper class.i
think him an ecoentrie old genius who is eith
er partly deranged, or a fugitive from j hstice;
while -those of the lower class have their
doubts about his being mortal at all—if he
is they are strongly of the opinion that there
•existe some kind of a perfect nriderstanding
between him and the devil. And it is well
fo • in that they .thin k so, -113 - i the
. qys of the"enuntry round about - I , looly ever
r:intrude themselves upon his retirement, and
hence he is saved much annoyance that. would
most surely be meted out to him under other
•Ci CILMR. taines.
. bona after stopping in that:Teßion I made
it convenient to visit the 'Hut on the Cliff'
The old man, an eccentric looking character,
truly, received me kindly, but as I had been
forewarned would be the case, showed but
little disposition ;to converse. I did not - try
to press a conversation upon him; 'bto . told
'him that I wis a stran, ger in that locality; an
artist traveling _With view to 41611ecting
•skeiches of American scenery, and that my
object id calling *lien ; him ..Imie- to ; t
privilege Of making ii;piature - of th4ol o
xtver from the vicinity.' of ilia house. His
yernalaSiori .Was readily,. ; granted 'Andr, :taking
out my sketiihinginaterials, I Seited Myself
near his door and fell . to.work, not that I re
ally ivaieted . the sketch, but rather that I
might have an excuse for remaining longer
for the purpose of tryiog c to get himinto eon.
venation. • ••• •
had not worked long .befare I had the
gratification to •discover that the old man
sae taking an interest in mc, for be looked
the chortle we touch
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY,IO, L 867.
at the sketch as it • progressed, and .finally
ventured•to ask some questions.' This open
ed the way and I humored .the-matter along
with great caution until I actually succeed
ed—by the time the sketch was finished we
were on excellent terms, and he promised to
tell me the story of his life.
We seated ourselves on the brink of the
cliff as soon as the sketch bad been laid
way in my portfolio, and he spoke as follows;
am now seventy-four years old. Fifty
years ago this spring T first saw this cliff,
and since that time I have not beep three
miles from it'
'Fifty years ago I started with my little
family—a wife and one child from Pittsburg
tago to New Orleans. It was before the
age of steam bad been inaugurated, so we
took passage on a kul boat. Right out there
in de river - ourboat - stuck - fast on 'a sand bar
and necessitated ns to wait till a' rise in the
river s ou e •
'lt was a dull place to He over, and rend
ered our lives very monotonous, so in order
fora change I one day took my wife and
child—the latter a little girl of four years
old —and came ashore for a walk We strol•
led 40 the top of this cliff, and seated our
selves upon the offset which we are noo. 00
cupying, to copy the very scene you have
just sketched. It was somewhat different
then. An unbroken wilderness spread itself
in every direction as far as the eye could see.
Man had not interfered with the primitive
wart@ of the forest in this vicinity.
After looking in silence or a ongtime, my
wife interrupted by saying:
'Ah, George, did you ever see anything so
enchanting before?'
told her it'was really magnificent.'
'lt almost makes me feel like I was a bird,'
she continueci, 'and that I could sail off these
cliffs and go just where I liked- If I were
to become a bird, George, and were to fly a
way over yonder out of sight; would you wait
right here till I returned?'.
laughed at the idea, and told her I'd
wait for' her.'
'Now, George,' she continued, 'I might
get to be a bird! .Promise me that should I
-take-a-motiort-to_fly_youth_ne.ver_leaLve_this_
place till I come back for you'
— q - promise,' said I laughing, yet feeling
somewh - at astonisherat - h - er - continuanee - of.
the subject. The word had scarcely passed
my lips ere she arose, seized our child in bet
arms, and ere I could move hand or
,foot,
leaped'from the cliff. A rustling of clothes,
a wild scream from the child, a dull heavy
sound and all was silent!
made my way to the foot of the cliff- I
scarcely know how, but a bleeding and almost
shapeless mass was all I found there! The
spirits had also flown! •
'See that flat rock therebeside ,my cabin
—that is there tomb: At my request the
sailors bore their remains to the top of the
cliff, and there they are buried. And then
they asilered me to erect this cabin I_plom
ised her ta.watt right here till site_returned
for shall keep my promise!'
Sensible Advice.
Some oce who "knows the world," or else
expects perfection, gives the following ad
vice regarding a husband: "When you see
a young min of modest, respectful, retiring
manners, not given to pride, to vanity, or
flattery, he will make a good husband; for he
will be the same kind of man to his wife af
ter marriage that he was before it. When
you see a young man of flingsl and industri
ous habits, no fortune hunter, but.who would
take a wife for the benefit of herself,•and not
for wealth, that man will make a good hus
h ind for his affection will not decrease, neith.
er will he bring himself nor his .parents to
poverty or want. When you see a man whose
manners are of 'a•boisterous kind, "brass" e
nough to carry him anywhere and vanity e
nough to make him think every one_inferior
to himself' don't marry him, — girls; he won't
atke - a — iii - cid husband When you eee
young man using his beet to raise himself
from obscurity to credit,.marry him, he will
make a good husband and one worth having.
When you see a young man depending sole
ly for his reputation and standing in society
upon the Wealth of his rich father or rela
tives, don't marry him for goodness sako: . he
will make a poor husband;
When you see a young man always em
ployed adoring his person, and who leaves
his debts unpaid, although
,frequently de
manded, never do you marry him, for he will
in every respect, make a bad husband.
When you see a young man who - is - below
you in,wealth offer to marry you don't deem
it a. disgrace, tut look into his character, and
if you find it corresponds with these direc
tions, take him, and you will get a good hus
band. When you see a young man who is
attentive lo his sisters or aged mother, who
is not ashamed pole seen . in the street with
the woman who gave hie] birth and nursed
him, supporting h e r weak - and tottering
frame upon his arm, who will attend to all
her tittlet wants with love, affection and tend.
ierniess,take him girls, who tan get him, 'DO
'matter what may be his circumstances in
life; he is truly worth winning and having,
and will certainly make a good husband,
AN ANCIENT 9ocksE.—At the village of
Glenthaw, in Lincolnshire, •there is now liv
ing on a farm, recently' occupied by a person
Owned ilewspO, a goose upward of a buodred
Yeare old. Mr. Ilewion, 'a slrort• time ago,
1 0 a. action, he being about to quit .his
tli, an ter all. th fariding Utensils
,had
been di ;pose • of, a neighbor reminded him
of a goose which yet pmained unsold. Mr.
itomediatelyketilind,:il will not :litve
the goosemeld, it hal - Amen \ upward of a hon.
dred years io my fotefathers and io nty,pos•
session, and I will give it to the 4ieji..GOUtl• •
pier, in the hope that it may terminate its
Aire wbere„if hurl lived siklong: ThielArd is
still Barn. "
For scalds and burns lake raw (minas Aud
pound as flue as possible sod apply' oace.
411.13. Warrai.l.lr Ne•Volitsrialper.,
, -
A B • TIFtL STORY.
-A. cheerful word *of aympathy .
May scatter clonal ' away;
One fade net perfotinett in 'love'
Turns darkness into day."
It was a warm'summer afternoon--a lazy
breeze stole through the windows of a little
hot district school-house, lifting the white
curtains, and rustling the leaves of the copy
books that lay open on all the deski. Thirty
or forty scholars of 611 ages were•bending o
ver their writing, quiet and busy; the voice
of the master, as he passed about among the
writers, was the only_ sound. But,_ though_
silent, this little light, hot school-room had
its heroes and heroines as certainly as the
wider sphere of life.
The bell rings for' the writing to be laid
byrand now comes the last exercise of the
'a the a iellin • h* .11 nearl all the
school joined. At the head of the class is a
delicate little girl in a blue dress, whose
bright eyes and attentive air 'show that she
prizes her place, and means to keep it.
Presently a word,' which had passed all the
lower end of the class, came to Eunice. The
word was privilege. 'P-r priv—i, privi
e g-e—privilege,' spelrEnn ice. But the
teaches, vexed with the mistaites of the oth
er end of the class, misunderstood her and
passed it. The little girl looked amazed; the
bright color came into. tier cheeks, and she
listened eagerly to the next person, who spelt
it-again-as-sber-bad—do
'Right,' said the teacher, 'take your place'
spilt it so,' whispered to herself,
tears springing to her eyes as she passed
down. But, too timid to speak to the mas
ter, she remained in her place, inwardly de
termining to get up again. But her trials
were not yet over.
Many expedients had. been tried in the
school to keep out the arch enemy of all
teachers—whisper. At length the following
plan was adopted: - The first - whisperer %vas
stood upon the floor in front of the teacher's
desk. Here he acted as monitor; as soon as
he detected another he took his seat, and the
nest offender kept a she p look-out to 6nd
of the school, the scholar who had the whis
_perces place_was_punished_severely=as_t be
school phrase was 'took a ferruliug!' T his
plan appeared to operate very well; every
one dreaded being found the last on the floor;
but tho' it secured an duierly school, inttny
of.the parents and scholars doubted its jus
tice ,
The boy - who was on the floor when Eunice
lost her place was an unruly, surly fellow,
who had smarted for his faults often before;
and as school drew near in, close he began
to tremble. • The instant Eunice's whispered
complaitit.reached his ear his face brightened
up, he was safe now. And when the class
was dismissed he said: Eunice whispered
sir.'
Eunice roae, and in a trembling voice re•
lated what she had said; but the teacher stew
no excuse in it, and she was. called to take
the place of the ungenerous boy who had
told of her.
The books bad been put away, and the
waiting school looked on in sorrowfulness as
Eunice left her seat to take the dreaded pun.
ishment: She was one of the best scholars
—bright, faithful, sweet tempered, and a
general favorite. Every one felt that it was
unjust; and many aogry glances were east at
the boy who was mean enough to get a little
girl like her whipped. Overcome with shame
and fear she stood by the side of t',ie desk,
crying bitterly,. while the teacher was prepa•
ring to inflict the punishment.
At this moment a tall boy stepped out of
his seat, and going-to the desk said: -
'Are you going to whip Eunice sir?'
•Yes, I never break my raid,' the teacher
answered.
'We will pot see her whipped!' said the
boy in an excited s;oice; there is not. a .Loy
here but one that would see her whipped!
Whip rue, sir, sod' keep yotir rule if you
tnuo but don't touch that little girl!! '
The master , reused, the school looked tear ,
fully::
'Do you mean to say you will take her pun
ishment?' asked the teacher.
do sir,' wasAelicild reply...
The sobbing little girl was sent to , her seat
and, without Ilinebing, her friend stood up
and recievod the punishment that was to have
fallen on liar. . The school was dismissed.
and the,. boys paid him in admiration and
praise for all he had suffer d, while thegrate•
fa' little g ir l blesseci,hiMfrum her heart for
a, noble an d pumas , bov,"_ who bad paired her
from "the greatest shame and suffering. .
. I said the little school had its heroes, and
ibis was one of them '''.Doyou not think
this Conduct 'admirable it
Now for the "mural: .
The punishment received llithis noble boy
was' Christ like; it Was one of suffering,' from
its 'own will, the 'punishment that wag to.
have been borne by another.'
You 'See—do you not l that• this' is just
what Christ did, Who: bore : our sins in his
own body ou the tree:—the SaViour•ol men.
How great the gratitude''each of us .Owes'
such'u friend!
It.t. EDITOR 4--ko 'ediffri of ODO of
togr'eadtinoges is a little the ''.‘rashest" matt
kn0w . 291,0 thewffer Ahati,hes - makes to
proeute new subscribers. Hear what he
says; 'For two. new subscribers, furnished
by DO good-1115°1mile . ybutAl; lath,' wewilt
furnish a husbati, or if we-tail in that, will
marry her ourself as 6000 as:th'e law:will ul= -
A 4 :.•., . s •
I • I
.4.••••- • -
TELE COMIN(I•WriaTIFER,Fren'ch sole° ti.
:fie men prediotothat.thesoinmer of 1867 will
be mold and met like that, of 1866„ami ;they
base the predierion.on the fact that immense
mimeos of ii" 93 'have broken -:tor 'are 'about' to'
kireak 4 ,Wtoy fred .the critiorpo "North, pro•
ditairittOlit and vufior.
Pay the ,Printer.
Vices of Genius.
Coleridge was snob a slave to liquor that
he had to be kept an untrilling prisoner, by
Christopher North, on occasion when •some
literary .p . ertormance bad to be Completed
by a meats time, and on , that very day;
without evenieking leave of any member of
the 'family, "he. ran off at full speed down the
avenue at Ellerary, and Was soon bidde n, ,
not in the groVes of the valley, but in' so me
obscene den, where drinking among low elm.
I C ri
panions,_ his magnifie s plied wa s soon
brought to a level with he vilest of the vile.'
When his spree was o ;he would return
to the society of decant ° en. '
-- De Quincey was-such a-slave—to—the—use
of opium. that his daily allowance was of
more importance than eating. 'An ounce of
laudanum a day prostrated animal life during
the forenoon. It Was no :unfrequent 'sight
to see him asleep on the rug before the fire
ima1i1:aivi.mitpi., 7 i.',;...;,:,;—;.:— , ...k. , , , .. , z
arms crossed on his breast. When this tor
por_from_theApinaLhad_passed away, he was
ready for company about daylight. In or
der to show him off, his friends had to ar
range their supper parties so that, Sitting un
til three or four in the morning?, ho might
be brought to that paint at'which, iO charm
and .
power of conversation, he wad so truly
wonderful."
Burns was lot less a drunkard than Cole ,
ridge. At was the weakness of Chas. Lamb.
And who can remember the last day of Poe
without an irre ressible regret? He who
was on tie way to marry a con i • mg woman,
stopped in Balthrore, and was. found by a
gentleman who knew him,in a state of beast
ly intoxication, unconscious as a log, and
died in the ravings of delirum tremens.—
Douglas Jerrold, was a. devotee of gin.—
Byron was a tippler, and his vile Don Juan
was written under the inspiration of rum:
Steele, the brilliant author of the Christian
Hero, wls a beastly drunkard. Men wrote
of him that very_of ten be_would_dress_him
self, kiss his wife and children, tell them a
lie about his pressing engagements, heel it
over to a groggery called 'the Store,' and
have a revel with his bottle companions
Rollin-says- of-Alexaniler •the-Greatrthat - the
true poison which brought him to his end
was wine. •
The-Empress—Elizabeth;-of—Russia,--was
completely brutifiod with strong liquors.—.-
She was often in such a state of bacebic ee•
stacy during the day, that she could not be
dressed•in the morning, and her attendants
would loosely, attach some robes, , which a
few clips of the scissors would disengage in
the evening.
.•
A Locomotive Ride
There is a fearful novelty attending one's
first ride upon the. locomotive of an express
train-on a dark night. The courtesy, of the
egineer allows you to try the experiment,
and taking a seat where you will be out of
the way of the fireman, you will find abund
ant food for speculation and reflection, as the
speed of the train increases. You proceed
slowly at first. As you pass through the out
skirts of the city, the bell rings a continued
warning to !clear the track, while the shrill
whistle nearly splits your ear . You soon
reach the country, and you can see the town
lights fading away-in the distance. Faster 1
and faster rushes the locomotive toward its 1
destination; while the fireman is busily em
ployed in feeding the insatiate demon, who
glares upon you as his prison door is opened
to receive his food. The man in soiled and
greasy overalls, who stands with a firm grasp
upon a lever, and who does not for,a moment
remove his eyelrom the short prospective
illuminated by the head-lights, rises to a per
sonage of groat importance for the time s as
you reflect that , upon Iris faithfulness ' and
efficieneyidepends, in a great measure, the
safety. of hundreds— perhaps your precious
self among the number. You see the light
of an approaching . train, and your heart gives
an involuntary jump as you , think you .see
the engineer grasp the reverse ,lever. The
train comes thundering on,' and is past you
in a twinkle, quite taking your breath .with
it, and leaving you to speculate on the very
minute particles in which your body
. would
have been found by your afflicted friends,
bad a switch been Misplaced. You gaze du
biously at' the circular plate of iron, 'dotted
with rivets and steam cocks, that forms the
end of the boiler, and iwagin the' little inci
dents that.would attend a bursting out in .
that locality.' , The coolness of your compan
ion in the greasy overalls fortifies your cour-,
age, and like ha not are lulled to 'sleep by the
rattle of the Wheels, the jar of the 'engine
and the music of the locomotion a piston; to.
be suddenly awakened from dreams Of a col
lision soled yourself at, the. first station. ~
A rayLEcrioN'.--Iratiity is Written on all'
earthly things; it is found in the fulfilment
of eiery..earthly hope; it is the sum of all
earthly experience. And what does it prove?
Is it not this: that the energies of . the soul
are fitted to act:for-6- .as the ,p desires -of. the
,soul should tend to—immortality? The best
seems content w hen the deMands of sense are'
satisfied. ' Bet when all the resonalte' . wish.
es'of man'are falfilledp when( eiery means of
pleasure.is at his.conimeed; when the. calls ,
of Feast) are answered, a voice sti.l.makes.
self, heard within, hirn,
is'iit thy rest!' This' dissitis`faction,.
longing for seancthing•better and lin change-.
, able; is surely the nspiration of the ,sotif .foT
eternity. heed, 0 man, the, 'heavenly.. in-,
stinot! Look upon this life as 'the soil in
Which !is nourished the mere) et ;thy, - immor
tal being. 'Let faith haveperfect w! ork,'.
Believe, that thou art sows by I wise, a Met...,
cifill,hand; 'and that, in '"lii,oper sealion,'theit .
shalt 'be - brought' tomb Ito - . the :light ~ and
warmth of Ar glorious et istence.—;,leard,WPw
Ireilher.• . , . • . .
A ohaii told-_by - a aolporteur to
‘rettnber Lor,!o wing,' •,repied Oat a lso had
trouble ettnufgh With )Lis own wife, without
renteniserittivotli4:ineu's wives,
Advice To An Apprentice.
1. Seize eve.) , .opportapity of improving
youemind.
2. Be careful se to who are yonfteolnpan.
ions.
S. To whatever oecupsfion you may be
cllled as a means of obtaining a livelihood,
determl& to understand it' well and work
heartily' at" it.
4. Aocustottliyonmelf to act kindly and
courteously to every one. :
b. Carefully avoid all extravagant hab
its '
6. Determine to posers a character for
honesty.
_7.__Cultivate_a_strict regard_for truth. .
' 8. if your parents are living, do your ut
most to promote their happiness and com•
fort:
9. Recollect your progress iv life mint de
pend upon your exertions.
: a a f r -li ion and do un.
to others as you would they should do unto
you.
11. Be stribtly — ttioperate in all things.
12. Avoid all obsence conversation _
,13. Be especially regardful of the Sabbath
and on no account desecrate it.
14. Make yourself useful.
MARCH OF 1,800 MILES.—The Kansas
City Journal of Commerce says:
Yesterday a man came into our office who
ban Passed' through an ordeal of the elements,
and of savage men, hardly creditable in this
-darof-comfortandleivilizationz—Ere-had-start—
ed from San Francisco on_horseback, but up
on reaching Sonoia, he wail 'attacked by
Apaches, and his horse taken, and himself
only escapinr, with his life after a fearful
obese of a day's duration. He then, on foot
began- his awful march to the eastward, suf
fering in the terrible able, of the mountains,
without shelter or flirts and again pressing
on.
At_Fort Dodge be found_tle garrison sur
rounded by eight hundred lodges of Indians,
on the warpath. Coming further east, he
was overtaken by a terrible storm, of ten day's
duration; but, being-fortuoate enough to meet
a-wagon-train ; -was-thus-preserved-onee-more.
However, in that train he saw the fearful
sight of ninety mules and 'horses frozen, and
the still more dreadful freezing of men and
women among the emigrants.„ At last, after
a voluinn of Buffeting, this mat bad reaohed
the settlements, after a journey of eighteen
hundred miles, alone and on foot. He told
his tale in a plain and truthful manner, and
we have no doubt his story is perfectly relia
ble.
Going to Law
Two Dutchmen who built and used in
common a small bridge eves a stream which
Tan through their, tarnis bad a dial:nee con
cerning som!_terirs which it required, and,
one of them positively refused to bear any
portion - of the expenses necessary to the pur
chase of a few planks. Finally, the aggriev
ed party went to a neighboring lawyer, and
placing to sovereigns in his ad, said:
give you all dish moneys if you'll make
Hans do justice mit de pridge.'
'Houi much will it cost to repair it?' ask
ed the honest lawyer.
Not more ash vun pound,' replied the
Dutchman.
'Very well,' said the lawyer, pocketing one
of the sovereigns, and giving him the bther,
take this, and go get tho bridge repaired;
tis the best course you can take.'
'Ties,' said the Dutchman, slowly, 'yeas,
dat ish more bettor as to quarrel mit Hans;
but as he went along hone, he shook his
head frequently,, as if unable, after all, to see
quite clearly how he bad gained anything
by going to law.
SoftAm.—Faith in' practical life is haling
the heart to try it. ,
Money is well spent in purchasing, tran
quilty of mind. .
A thread of water may serve,to washlmen,
but not to mend it. •.
Like the•globe q when • the ' behtt receives
FEtht on one,' lid .1 the other ie often plunged
in o darkness.
A,Person may 'believe as he pletises about
things; but things will not, therefore, be as
he pleases.
He who seeks a friecd exempt , from all
faults. remains.without Meads.
When fame 'is regarded as the end, and
merit as oply the menus, men are aFit'to dis
pease' with the latter, ii the termer eau be
had without it: '
Death is the liberator of him whom freed•
om cannot release; the physician 'of him whom
niectieine cannot cure;,ami die Comforter of
hies whom time cannot e.ensele. '
The jug is a siognlir utensil. 'A: pail, 'a
tumbler or
. decanter can be rinsed, end you
May P atigfi youreelf optical 'proof "that it
is clean, but the jug has a little bole in the
top and the interior' is' &L.' darlmees. NO
hand'penetrates it, no hand''Moves the' sur 7
face. 'Yen can clean it only by putting in
wader, ahakingit and pouring it out. It the
water cetues out •zidao, you jtidge that, you
halm succeeded in cleaning the juii,'"andvioit
verea. l `lde.ec the jug is hke the human
heart—no mortal eye can loblanto its races.
see, nod you can,ouly judge of its purity_ by
what comes out of it.
,•
Greeley soya thrre are 100,g00, persoos in
Neiv York to - day *l4 ; irthey„hed been pia.,
eed in, ate garden ef Edon whou Main was,
Weiilehatie boon starved to.death there ter
I want of some one to pluok ilia fruit and put
,it,iatetheir,rnouths. And, ,there are 200,
000 who wouldbaye,atulert. it
. without any
seggestiOLl from the_berpeok, Attayet,, ti9d
surL of population ol eo la are city goveraillent,
the ULeurbers or the LegislotuFe. aucl 'ef Pon-
,gress,nuci!ne!trly 404t.rois , this, whole smog' What is C rinoline iiko . oo otietinato, man?
- • Because it otren stands out Opt' trinott.6
gOribbler Says life Is too short tit' clink ' •
pour whisky, or to, woke love ., to an rugly.:W". Whyiwti nehtl, ',of
,Luau. •^caw:, it , - vitsb
• - •
.
'And you hay s been married, Patrick,'
three times, hittn't you!"
"Yen, indade, sir." '
"And what do you say of it? Which
did you like best?"
"Well, Becky O'Biine, that I married the
first ti ei•
i\
was a good- Woman=too good for
me; so a e got sick and died, and the Lord
took het. Then 'l,got married to Bridget
Flannegan: She was a bail woman; and she
got sick and died too—and the devil took
her. Tben;fool that I was,l got married
to Margaret Ilaggarty. • S he was worse,' bad
—very bad; so bad that neither the Lord nor
the devil would have het, so I. have to keep
, -
her Myself." • "
Tarim) TO DeCID E.-4.tmvelet stopped.
at a public house in Maine lor_thevurime
.or g e tting alum, knocked but received no
answer. Going in• be found a littte white
headed man in the embrace of•hie wife, who'
had his head under her - while the
At, uead under her arm, .din — )
other she was giving her little lord a pound
ing. Wishing-to put an end to the fight,
our traveler knocked on the table, and. cried
'Ballo here! who keo-
out-in a loud voice, 'Ballo, there! who keeps
this house?' The husband, though much
ont of breath, answered, 'Stranger, that's
we are trying to
A gentleman: driving up to a country inn,
somewhere in Clinton co., l'a., accosted a
youth thusly:,
"Adolescence, extricate : my quadruped
irom_the_velticle,stabulate_him,donate hint
a sufficient Supply of intricious ailment, and
when the aurora of morn shall again illumir.e
the oriental horizon, I will rewari your ami
able hospitality with a pecuniary compenw_
tion."
The boy becoming puzzled; and not corn.
prehending the meaning of the gentleman's
high,sounding effusion, -ran into the house
and exclaimed; "Dady, here is a dutchman
out box who wants some lager and switzer
cheek)."
'May I be married, ma?' asked a young
Miss of sixteen
''What do you want to get married for?'
toquiret, ier mother.
'Why, ma, you know'tho cbildten have
never Seen any one married, and I thought
it might please them a little—that's all; •
'.l'lontiensel—you can't fool me,' remarked
the old lady, with a - significant shako of the
head.
. There is an old story that a Jew while in
dulging in a morsel of forbiddenifood; (pork.)
was overtaken by $ terrific thunder storm,
and that, as the thunder roared and the
lightning flashed around, he exclaimed:
• 'Plesh my soul, vot a pother apout a leetle
pit of pork!' , .
A negro.preabher was
. helding forth to his P
congregation upon the nbject of obeying
the commands of God. 'Says' he: 'l3redron
whatever God tells me to do in dis book
(holding up the Bible) dat gwine to do.
If I see in dat I must jump throo a stone
wall, I'm gwine•to jump at it. Uwine troo
it,'longs to God—junapin at it 'longs to dis nig.
ga.'
A Virginia ne g ro, accuding to an exchange
on hearing thatongress was.goibg to give
lands to• the dallies, said: Land de dobbin
Ps free now, and don't want no land. ra,
gwyne to git wurms and go fisliin?
An Irish lad having been asked if the man
who had last flogged him p as his own father,
replied: "Yis, sure be is the parent iv me;
but be Crates me as if I was his'son by anoth
er father and-mother, bad luck to him."
"Pa, didn't you whip me for biting To m •
m y ? "
.
"Yes my child; yeti hurt him very much.'
"Well, then, pa; you ought to whip mam
ma's f music teacher, too, for. he bit mama
right in the mouth, and I know it hurt, be
cause she put her arms around his and
tried to choke him,"
A good story is told of a hardshell Baptist
missionary in Medina, who became mixed np
in land speculations• On entering bis pul
pit recently. ho announced to the congrega
tion at the opening of divine service, that
the text would be found in St.' Punt's at i;tle
to the Knoesotiatts: action 4, range 3 west.
/Toe of Josh 13illings' maxims: 'Rise arty,
work harci 'sod late, live on what you can't
sell, giin nothing awa, and if you don't die
ritch, and go to the devil, , yu.. may sue me
for . tlumagea. ~ , , .. .
,
,
' Dr. Ha recommends, by way lof preven
,tion against taking' cold',' that persons going
Out of a heated room keep their mouthssbuf.
The caution may be very wiae and judicious,
bit what are the ladies to do. , .
What word is thai of eight, lette-s,
which, if you tuke'uwa . 3; five, tea will kV.;
retuaiii?:lAus.--Terkle6ey. "
Harsh. words, Are like hailstones, whieh if
rnelted,, Would. fertilize the tender plants they
batter tiu'atu.' r '
• The ,bistory of , the world tells us, thatim
moral means will eve[ ietesee_pt purl elpilt.
Wily Zees . a "tail veltin he is
pleased'?--Because'he Itas goc a tail to wag.
filtsmor.,--Whisper ice cream in a
ear antisbeis 'wish yoft..
n ship like iiu apprentice?
..111ben
is bound out:
NUMBER 45