3El3r "Vviii..33la,ll.r.
VL - UMR - X
iPC)3EITICIA.X.L . •
_
BRIGHTLY BEES THE SIMMER 111 a.
0, brightly beams the summer sky.
And rarely blooms the clover;
But the little pond will soon be dry—
The summer soon be over!
0, light and soft the - went wind blows
The flower-bells gently ringing;
But blight will fall open the rose,
Where now the bee is swinging!
• snu 018 on .e sty r s •,.
A blush is on the flowers;
put the cloud that wears a golden gleam
Will waste itself in showers!
0, little hearts with gladness rife,
Among the wavy grasses?
A deeper shade wilt fold your life
Than o'er the meadow passes!
0, maiden lips! 0, lips of bloom! •
Unburdened save by singing!
Pale thief shall leave his seal of gloom,
Where kisses now are clinging!
0, hope is sweet! 0, youth is near!
And love is sweeter, nearer!
0, life is sweet, and life is dear,
_ = -41eat-h—is-ofteit-dearerl-
0, shield the little hearts from tvr ng,
While childhood's laugh is ringing!
A-nd - kiss - thelipalhat - singth - e - s - 04,
Berore they cease their singing!
0, crown with joy the brows of youth,
Before those brows are older!
0, touch with love the lips of truth,
Before they cease their singing!
For the little pool. will soon to dry—
The summer soon be over
T-hough-brightly-beamsr - the summon-s
And rarely blooms the cloy arl
SPEAK NO ILL.
Tiny, speak no ill—a kindly word
Can never leave a sting behind;
And, oh! to breathe each tale we've heard,
Is far * below a noble mind,
Full oft a ~ better seed is sown,
Ily chastng thus the kinder plan;
For if but little good is known,
Still let us speak the best we cane
Give me the heart that fain would hide--
Would_fsin-another's faults efface;
How can it pleasure human pride
To prove humanity but hoe?
No; let us reach a higher mood,
A nobel estimate of man;
Be earnest in the sea rch.of good,
And speak of all the beat we can. -
Then speak no ill--but ler.ient bo
To other's failings as your own;
If you're the first a fault to see,
Be not the first to make it known.
For life is but a passing day, •
No lip can tell how brief its span,
Then, Ohl, the little time we stay,
Let's speak (V all_ the best we can-
11 , 74 4 IF--trikii 0-11 arls arlr-t104:,11/4*-4!
ROSANNA, THE UGLY ONE_
FROM TIIE FRENCH
'But look, then,'
said Mrs. Moore, to her
__husband, 'how ugly that little one is. Is she
•
not, William.'
And Mr. Moore, who was sitting in a rock
ing -chair, amusing himself with poking the
fire, laid down the tongs be held and grave
ly answered his wife:
'But, my dear, you have already said so
one hundred times, and were you to say it
one hundred times more, Rose would not be
come less ugly for your saying so'
Rosanna was a little girl of about fourteen.
She was their only child. and to do her
mother justice, was really very ugly—nay,
almost revolting; with her little gray eyes,
flat nose, large mouth, thick protruding lips,
red hair, and; above all, a form remarkably
awry.
Rose was, then, very ugly—but she was
a sweet girl, neverthelcss. Sind and intel
ligent, she possessed a mind of the highest
order. Nature seemed to have cou3s3zat
ed her with every good quality 'of the cart
for the wantur every-beauty of .person.
The poor little thing was-profoundly hurt,
as she listened to her mother's observation,
'Oh, you little fright, you will never get a
husband.'
Eight o'clock struck; Mrs. Moore was
sorely vexed. •
'Go to bed, Rosanna?
Trembling the little girl approached her
mother, :o give her the kids of,good-night.
'Tis useless,• you • little monster,' said' her
mother. •
A tear rolled from the little one's eye.—
She -hastily wiped it away," and turning to
the father, presented him the yet humid
cheek.
Ile kissed her ,tenderly., •_
am viet,altogether miserable,'• .shemyr:
mured; leavin' the room
Retiring to thechamber,,she eoait' Demme('
embrindering a scarf, and worked 'thus part
of the night, for she deiired to present it
to her mother, when she arose in the morn
ing.
The clock struck twelve. She had just
finished; and putting it by, the little girl
calaily.resigned herself to rest. }ler repose
was undisturbed.
Oo the morrow Rose proented the scarf
--- WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY - -PENNSVLVANIA, FRIDAY. MORNING, JULY 5, 1807.
to her mother• What was the pain 'the lit
tle one experienced, when her mother re
ceived it coldly, and expressed none of those
tender sentitnects which were to have been
the sweet little one's reward.
Her eyes, by chance, glanced over a neigh
boring mirror.
'Yes,' she said, internally, 'I am ugly—
they are right,' and she sought in her own
head to find a remedy for ugliness.
And then in the world'-new pangs wound
ed the little ugly one's heart. A first
pression alienated all the young girls of her
..n age—hut theme ale was so goo., so •
miable, so amusing, that they approached,
then listened, and then loved her. Now, ic
deed, our little one was happy.
One day Mr. Moore went home in a vio
lent passion, and became, in consequence of
some trifling; prevarication, highly incensed
agates uis wt e. Their domestic felicity
was troubled for eight long days; for eight
long days Mrs. Moore was continually cry
ing. Rosanna in vain racked her young
brains to discover why—but her hither still
continued angry, and her mother was still
continually weeping. At last she reflected
ie her mind how to reconcile them.
They were all three seated in the parlor—
Mr. Moore was arranging the fire—when this
was concluded, be threw the tongs from him,
I snatched a book from the mantle; and opened
it abruptly; but, after a moment's perusal, he
l_closed_it again, in a _violent humor, cast a
fierce glance at his trembling wife, and hut.-
' riedly rose from his chair.
Rosanna, deeply Loved, clasped her arms
about his neck, as he was about to rise and
.tecttonately care3set
reject her innocent coaxing, and the little
- gift, - thitking - sh - e - had - succeeded - in touching
-his-heartitookin - her — hamis the moistened
handkerchief wherewith her mother had
been drying her weeping eyes, and dried
them a second time therewith; she then ten
derly embraced her mother, who returned_
her affectionate caress with all a mother's
fondness.
The parties being now favorably disposed,
naught remained but - to establish the peace.
hi s wag-Dolma • er---2neitirrourd-ma. e=
tfirst overture—and without the penetra'
tion of little Rose the reconciliation would
not-have-takon place.
She took her father's hand between her
own little hands, and pressed it to her bosom•
:he then took bar mother's hand, and joined
it to her father's, as it lay near her heart,
Human pride could resist no longer—the a
lienated parents rose• at the same moment
and cordially embraced each other.
From that hour- Rose was the idol of them
both.
Six years after this, Rosanna, the ugly
Rosanna,-was do ornament of every- society
to which her mother presented her. Ands-
ble, witty, and observirg, her conversation
was universally courted.
One summer evening, the sun, which dur
ing the day, bad shed over nature an intense
heat, had just disappeared; leaving the hori
zon covered with long, wide bands of red—
clouds more and more dark were heaping
themselves on the eastern lky—the atmos
phere was suffocating, and one would deem
the earth returning to the sun' the beat she
bad been receiving from the latter during
the day. All was heavy and weary-'---the air
inhaled seemed rather to suffocate than nour
ish, A drowsy languor overcame every one.
In - a saloon, whose every window was
thrown open, might be seen, gliding, here
and there, in the darkeneci light, groups of
young females, whose white dresses, slightly
agitated by the rising breeze of the evening,
offered something mysterious and poetical
whereon the imagination loved to dwell. A
low laughing whisper was then heard, like the
soothing murmur of some distant rivulet
A young woman, seated before a piano, was
expressing her heart's sentiments by an ex
temporary melody now smooth — and - tender, -
now deep and trembling. ,
No more whispering, but a general silence
took place, for hers was a celestial symphony,
a seraph's song.
Lord Underwood:a fine, blue-eyed young
nobleman,
was so deeply touched by the mel
ody, that his frame seemed - Agitated by a
momentary convulsion. Ile listened to the
angel's voice, so softly harmonizing with the
tones of the instrument, and felt an indescrib
able seneltion thrill throUgh his frame.
The music ceased; but the sweet voice still
virbrated on Underwood's ear and there was
a charm in the witty and original trifle to
which he listened, that transfixed him where
be stood.
'How beautiful must that young girl be;
thought Underwood. 'Happy the man on
whom may fall her choice,' and he involun
tarily sighed.
Suddenly lights were brought in. The
young woman was ugly Rosanna.
Lord Underwood Was stupefied—a lie closed
his eyes, but the charm of that voice haunt
ed his memory, He gazed on her a second
time, and he - found her less ugly; and Rase
was,indeed, less ugly. The beauties of the
mind seemed transferred to her person; and
her gray eyes, small as they were, expressed
wonderfully well her internal sensations.
Lord Underwood wedded Rosanna, and be
came the happiest of ben in the possession
of the kindest and most loving of women.
Beauty deserts us, but virtue and talents,
the
,faithful companions of our lives, smut
party us to the grave. -
FUNNY REPROOF.-A t Placerville, a Meth
odist Minister went to a tin shop to buy a
blowing horn. Selecting one, he asked the
clerk whether it would make a loud noise?-
45, ypa," said the clerk '.'a h—l of a noise."
Well,' replied the minister, 'as I want it to
blow at eamprneeting, I don't think that kind
of a a noise will suit,' and walked off.
A helping word to one in trouble is often
like rai switch on a railroad traok—but ono
inch between wreck and smooth•rolling pros
petits.
Biz xricli:arbeilia.Cl6:iii'Faxini.l.l.7 : Nplaifist•imp leer.
ivii .. F.OP 'll**T
f Was there ever such a jealous fellow; al:
ways contriving- some new test to subject, my
affections too?' said Julia Thirty to • lier
sister, Mrs,. Fanny Markham, as she handed
her a letter.
it was from julla's lover, Captain
Wilcox, an Officer in an infantry regiment,
who wrote to prepare her to receive him.
He told her that she would find him much
changed, for be bad been Wounded in the
leg and lost his left arm; that he had felt it
is duty to say that he should not hold her
to hey engagemnt, though he loved her as
devotedly as ever. Now it happened that
Julia bad a correspondent in the army, from
whom she discovered that the captain had
received no injuries; and that his story was
concocted purely as an additional test of the
•..• :
'We'll pay him off for this trick, Julia,'
said Mrs 3larkham. 'Come with me and
I'll instruct you how to give him change -in
his own coin.'
Shortly after the ladies had retired, Cap
tain Wilemr,, pluming himself on his sttata-
had buttoned his arm up in his coat, and
the left sleeve hung empty, while he coun
terfeited a halting gait, and put a large piece
of plaster on his left cheek to cover an
i ha
aocnary saber cut.
_ _
Ina few minutes Mrs. Markham appear-
'Returned at 1.201' cried she, warmly sha
king his hand. 'My dear Paul'
'There,s not much loft of me—little better
' left-my-poor
arm in the West Indies.'
•Poorolear_PanlL_said_the—lad
-h(
.ow-is-pour-legs
.Very poorly. lam troubled with daily
exfoliation of the bone.'
'Poor Julia!' she sighed.
'She will be much affected at the change
- in - nte, - will - she - note — a - s - knd the brave Cap
tain.
'Oh, dear, no! I was thinking of the change
in her.'
‘Charnm4n_herl'__
'What! haven't you heard?'
'Not a word.'
'Ahl I see—she was afraid to write to
you. She has lost all her beauty.'
'Possible!'
'Yes—you know she was never vaccine •
ted.'
'Never vaccinated!" •-
'No—and she has had the small-pox, very
badly. Poor Julia. She has lost . the sight
of her right eye. Her face is very much dis
colored. Her nose is te.tvibly red. ' -
A red nose?'
'Yes. It doesn't matter so much about
her eyes—she wears blue spectacles.' -
'Blue spectacles and a red nose?' exclaimed
the Captaio.
'But you don't• mind that. Beauty is
nothing.' said Mrs. Markham,' who was rav
ishingly beautiful herself. 'You love Julia
for her heart; you always told her so. And
as you arc so maimed and disfigurzd ;our
self, why, you can sympathize with and con
sole each other. You will be a very well
assorted couple—three arms and' three eyes
between you.'
'And a red nose and blue spectaeleargroat
ed the Captain.
'Hush! here comes Julia.' said Mrs. Mark
ham, 'don't appear shocked. Julia, my dear
here's the Captain•' •
'The door opened and Julia entered. She
had painted her face most artiatically; . a pair
of blue spectacles-concealed • her fine black
eyes, bin the marvelous feature of her face
was her nose—it glowed with all the brillian
cy .of a carbuncle. ' •
'Oh, dear Paul,' said she, 'poor dear Paul;
how much you must have'suffered.'
have one arm let for you to lean upon
aaid_the_Captain.--
-
'But you are lame. We can never dance
the Schottisohe any more.'
don't know but I can manage it, all
but the side stops and hops,' said the Cap
tai o, ruefully. •
'But don't:Jou find mo hideous?' asked
the f Lir one. - ,
'Not exactly,' said the poor Captain. 'The
tip of your nose is rather a warm color, to
be sure '
'Oh, the doctor says it will settle into a
purple, by-and by.'
'Oh, he does, does he?' said the Captais
abstractively.
`Do you think I should look better with
a purple nose?' asked Julia.
'Speak mat of it,' said the Captain. 'But
tell me, when you heard of ray injuries, were
you not inclined to relinquish my band?'
(Not for a moment,'
'Then forgive my deception,' -slid the
Captain. 'Here wy left arm as sound as
ever. I have no wound upon my cheek; I
can dance from dark till dawn.' ,
'How could you bo oruel?' said Julia. qt
is my tarn to ask you whether you are still
willing to fufill your engagement with me?'
'With all my heart,' said the Captain
am grieved for the loss of your beauty, f
confess; but your heart and mind are dearer
than your person;
'Excuse me for a moment,' said the lady
must retire for a few moments'
In an instant she returned, radient in all
the glory of bet clams-.
said she,' bow do you like me
now?'
• Yon are an angel,' Said the Captain, hol
ding her in his arms. 'How could you treat
me so cruelly with the red none'and specta.
'Not a word of that, said the beauty.
otiTo have fiends rn camp who exposed your
jealous folly,•and it was only 'tit for tat.'f'
deserve it all,' said the Captain; 'and
here 1 avow I am cured of jealousy forever.'
When they were married, which followed
as a matter of course, they were •pronounced
the hancle,omest couple that ever submifte.d
to the matrimonial noose.
Otall the long list of causes, which Onm
bine to make up the sum total of-human- mis
ery, discontent ..ta the - most pernicious in its
influence. All the 'other passions may
curbed; and held in check, by the better k
fiance of the moral principle. Discontent,
never. It is the rich msn's bane;
.and the
beggar's -evil genius.
I would experiment with human nature.
First,—l would select one, who, for a I .ong
course of years, has struggled on against_por,
arty and bittlid with misfortune; even repro ,
ing and constantly complaining that unkind
fortune has treated him with more severity
than any other mortal man. Upon that in.
dividual I would bestow riches, honor, fame,
and place him in a position among s fel
low-men, that the proudest, the mightiest,
ii". 1 •,• -• . im ever' blessin_
that wealth oould confer, more than be had
ever dreamed of in his brightest hopes of ideal
happiness. I would make his home in some
fairy spot, posessing all the qualities of soil
awl a beauty - of climate, calculated to render
it a second Eden, and watch the result.
could-he-be-happy?would-he—be-con ten—
ted?
log oom
He might for a week perhaps; no long
er.
Discontent is so interwoven with every fi
bre of our nature, that ii the Almighty were
to bestow upon puny man the empire of the
worldT-still-would-he-murmer-and—complain ,
that God had not given him the dominion of
the sun also.
One of the parvenu ladies of Cineinnatti,
who-would_be_wonderfully_aristoeratio,in=all
---And
her domestic concerns, was visiting a ew
days since at the house of Major 0
(all know the old Major), when' after tea,
the following conversation occurred between
the Major's old fashioned lady and the top-
Ilticitroc - m - s - e - quenee - of the — hired — girl — occu=
flying a seat at the,tea-table.
'Why. Mrs. G , you do not allow
your hired girl to eat with_you'af the—table-
,o-you
'Most certainly I do. You know this has
over been my custom. It was so when you
worked for me—don't you recollect?'
This was a 'cooler' to silk and satin great.
ness or as the boy calls it—'codfish aristoe.
racy.' After coloring and stammering, she
answered in a low voice: --'Yes, I believe it
was,' and left.
What a withering rebuke! Ana how ad.
mirably it applies to much of our strutting
aristocracy? When will the world learn
that poverty is not the evidence of meanness
and degradation; nor silks and satins the true
evidence of a true a noble woman.
One of the best stories we remember re . -
ferring to a stolen watch comes from a French
source. In the pit of the old French opera,
one'of the audience suddenly discovered that
the watch was gone. The evenings enter
tainment had not commenced, and the own ,
er of the property mounted a bench, stated
the loss, which could not have oceared a
bove two or three 'Minutes ' and begged those
around him to remain perfectly quiet, as his
watch struck the hours like a clock, and, it
then being on the stroke of seven, the watch
Would speedily indicate into whose posession
it had fallen. There was a.deadsilence; but
the eye of the proprietor detected an . i ndi.
vidual who was trying to edge away from the
vicinity, and he immediately denounced him
as the thief. The latter was 'Azad; and the
watch found upon him; and as the owner
quietly put it into his pocket, he remarked,
'The watch does not strike the hours, but I
thought my assertion that it did would ena
ble me to strike out the. thief.'
'Does your watch go well?' asked a bystaud
er of the happy owner. --
'lt both goes well and returns well,' re
plied the latter.
No sickly person can honorably marry a
nother in good health witho at previously
making a fair statement of the case. And
even then if a marriage takes place a crime
has been committed against unborn inno
cents. But when both the parties are "sick
ly," it is wholly inexcusable, and ought to
he frowned upon by every intelligent com
munity, however satisfactory the pecuniary
condition of the parties. They may be able
to support themselves, but.they can give no
guarantee that their children, diseased in
body and feeble in . mind, shall not be a pub
lic charge at the hospital, the poor house or
an insane asylum. Thu best general plan
for insuring a health, and vigorous offspring
is to make an antippdal marriage; to make as
much of a cross in the physical charaoteris.
tics as possible. The city should marry the
country; the black-haired the blond; the bil
lions temperament the nervour; the fair.skin
ned the brunette, the stout the slender; the
tall the short. To marry each its like, is to
degrade the race.—l.kr?l's Journal of Health
A London correspondent tells of a very
old lady who went to a shop to buy poultry
The shopkeeper was polite and attentive.
She went often, and. be was always consider
ate. One Saturday evening he was very bu
sy when she came, and he asked her to step
into his little parlOr and sit &own. Iris
daughter, a young girl, received her kindly,
but looked pale and *ore. The old lady
handed her %package directed to her fath
er; told her to lock it up in the cupboard,
and went away. When the poulterer open
ed it he foupd 41,004 undo gold watoh and
chain. He went to thank her, sad she told
him to take his daughter out of town for a
week, then.come to her. Theo,. after some
preliminaries of getting acquainted, she trans
ferred all her property to him:225,000, and
died two weeks after. Moral—Civility coats
nothing nod in every case is its own re
ward.
Betray ®a rust divulge 130 secret.
Discontent ,
The Stolen Watch
Romance in Real Life
The'Cleveland Herald says: We met a gen
tleman to-day, seeking hie wife, wbdit seems,
was in ibis place-when lastbeard from, hav
ing come from an Eastern city. There is a
strange story connected there-with, whjeh
the gentleman has no objection to ourrgiv
ing here. Eight pars ago, this gentltrnan,
whom we shall call Mr, George t his
young wife with, his mother, then residing
in the city of D—, and started overland to
_California.- While upon his journey the
party of which be was a member was attack
ed by the Indians, and he was carried into
captivity. le escaped from them about a
year afterwards, and reached San Francisco
in safety. 'During his stay among the In
dians he made considerable money, trading
and otherwise, and upon reaching San..Fran
risco determined to _o home taking I assn. e
in 4 steamer or ti at purpose. hree . aye
out the steamer was burned, and be, among
a few others, was saved by the efforts of a
boat's crew belonging to a vessel bound for
San Francisco.
Having lost his money in ail disaster, ho
_salled_for_A ustraliu,sithieh_pointhe_reached_
in a very destitute condition. He was sick,
and remained in the bands of the physician
for many lung months. When able to trav
el be started for home, and when .within five
days from New York the vessel was overta
ken and captured by a Rebel privateer, and
_taken into a Sou h ern_p mt. -_-_-Lie_was_c -
scripted into the Rebel Army and forced to
the front. He was made a hospital steward,
which gave hima . good opportunity to aid
the "Bo • s in Blue" and saved him from ta-
king a Eeeming part with the Rebels.
_the_war_was-over-he.-came-N-orthatidTit
sought his home. The old house was de
serted. Sadly ho tomato an old neighbor
for information. This friend, who could
hardly believe the story; told him that about
three months after he bad stalled for Cali
-fornia,-a-letter-reabhed them-from a member_
of the outgoing party, informing the young
wife that George had been killed by the la
.-: I s—She-had---moor a ong
time, and then a friend of her husband bad
married her, and together with the aged mo
ther, had gone West, and ho is now seeking
them. -
H-e re' we Come
There was a wedding in a church in.a til
lage neat Chicago, recently, which was at
tended by a crowd of people, and the bride
groom a late army officer. There is a :story
about him that was revived with great effect
at the wedding. He was in the western
frontier service, and one day (so the story
goes) he went out to hunt a boar. He had
been away from camp a few hours, when his
voice was heard faintly in the distance ex
- •
"II e r e we come!"
In a little time the same cry was heard a
gain, but nearer; then it was repeated at in
tervals, nearer and louder; when finally the
bold captain emerged from a bit of woods
near the camp, running at the top of his
speed, without a coat, hat or gun. In he
came to camp shouting, "Hero we come!"
"Here who comes?" inquired a brother of
ficer,
"Why, me and the 'game," gasped the
officer, pointing to a big bear who showed
himself at the edge of the woods, took a look
at the camp, aqd then, with a growl at this•
sing his expected meal of the captain, die.
appeared in the woods again.
"flut why didn't you shoot the bear, and
then bring him in?" inquired one. '
"What's the use in shooting your game?"
said the captain testily, "when you can bring
it in alive, as I did?"
The story got borne before the captain did,,
and was in everybody's mouth. The other
night, as the bold captain led his intended'
bride - into the Church with the pride and
grace,eo readily inspired by the occasion,
some wicked wag sang out from the salary.
"Ilerc ye comer"
Whitt, was followed by such a shout of
tan r as that old church never heard
.he
e.
•
HOLD orrfloYtl.—flold on to your ton
gue when you are just ready to swear, lie, or
speak harshly, or use any improper word.
Hold on to your hand when you are about
to strike, steal, or do any improper act. •
Hold on to your foot when you are on the
point of kickingl running away from study,
or pursuing the path of error, shame or crime.
Hold on to your temper when you are an
gry, excited, or imposed upon, or others are
angry about you.
Hold on to your heart wren evil persons
seek your company; and invite you to join
their games, mirth and revelry.
Hold on to your 02 no at all times, for it
is more valuable to you than gold, high
places, or fashionable attire.
. Hold on to the truth, for it will servo well;'.
and do you good throughout
Hold on to your virtwi—it is aboyyko
price to yeu.ia all times and pleats..
Hold on to your good char ,- f ltitt;•
and always will be, your
TIME'S CHANGES —Ti e a t
changes. A few years at men
from the top to the bottok.. ...er of
fame, sod •from the bottom to the top. To
exemplify this: Bonner of the New York
_Ledger, gives in his income for the past year
at $200,000- Fourteen years ago ho was
an employee in the New York Mirror officeel
then run by Mr. Hiram Filler. The paper
was in a nourishing •oondition and would
have coatinued to. be still, but Fuller turn
ed rebel, and loft his country for his cow-.
try's good Ile is now ,broken down and iu
a London jail, whilo Bonner, his (briber em
ployee, drives the fastest team in New York
and runs a newspaper that has the largest
circulation of any to America, its current
issues are said to be four hundrod thousand
copies
1110.00 parr. "reistr
Tu E WILL TO BE IRAINED--.NOT BROKEN
often speak of breaking the Will
,of - a
child; tint it see th e 'to 'the - th ey bed' better
breakjits neck.- The wilt needs fOgulatiog,
not destroying. I should as soor,thinit, ,of
breaking the legs
,of a horse in training him
as a child's will. 1" never yet ' beard of a
will in itself too strong; more than of an arm
too mighty, - or a mind too ooMprelicasive: in
its grasp, or too powerful in , its hold..
would discipline and develope the will into
harmonious proportions. 1' b e instruction
of a child should ;re such as to animate, in
spire and train, but not to hew,-cut and carve
for I could always treat a child as live tree ;
which was to be helped to grow, never as
dry, dead timber to be carved into this - or
that shape. and have cerMin grooves cut in
A living tree, and not dead timber, it in
every little child.—Selected
An•old joker, who never yielded the palm
to any ono in reeling a knotty yarn, was put
to his trumps at hearing a traveler state that
he once saw a brick house placed upon run•
ners. and
. drawn up a hill to a more favors.
_ble_locatio_aome_half_a-mile-distant.-M-hat----
do you think of that, Uncle Ethielr said the
bystanders. 'O, fudge,' said the old man,
'I once saw a two-story house 'down east
drawn by oxen three miles"--a dead silence
ensued, the old man evidently had the worst
end of it. and he saw it. Gathering all his
enemies, he_bit_off-a,hugh-piece-oLpig
1 -
by way of gaining time for thought; 'thTy
thawed the stone house,' said the old man—
ejecting a quantity of tobacco towards the
fire 'lace, 'but that warn't theworst of the
jo ,
, t
_y'd_ct u_t_hat hey-- ent
; drawed the cellar.' The etranaer :aye
In a neigboring town the lads of the school
acquired the habit of smoking, and resorted
to the most ingenious methods to conceal the
1-vice-from-their-master.
In Ibis they were successful until one
morni,n wbc_n_the_mas-tor—e:
it, and stood before them to awful digni
ty..
"How now?" shouted tho master to the
first lad, "how dare you be smoking tobaa•
co?" .
"Sir," said the boy, "1 am subjected to
headache, and a pipe takes off the . . pain?"
"And you? and you?" inquired the peda
gogue, questioning every boy in turn. One
bad a "raging toothache,'' another a "ebol
ie," the third a "cough;" in brief, they all
had something.
"Now sirrah," belowed the master to the
last boy, "what disorder4lo you smoke for?"
"Alael all the excuses were exhausted; but
the interrogated urchin, putting his ppie
down, after a farewell will, and looking up
into the master's face, said, in a whining,
hypocritical tone:
"Sir, I smokes for corns!"
MASTER.--It is not by regretting what
is irreparable that true work is to be done,
but by making the beat of what we are. It
is not by complaining that. we have u)t the
right tools, but by using well the tools we
have. Where we are and what we are, is
God's providential arrangement; and t b e
wise and manly way is to look our disadvan
tages in the face, and see what can be mado•
of them.' - Life, like war is a series of Dais
takeS, 'and ho is not the best Christian nor
the best •general who makes the fewest
of false steps. Poor mediocrity may 4a that.
but he is the bek who wins the most kpleo
did victories by the retrieval of ruistakes. 7 --
Forget mistakes; organize victory out of
mistakes.
REMEDY FOE A DURN.---The .beet thing.
for a burn is the following and every filially
ought to knoiv
As soon as possible after the burn, throw
a little grgen tea in hot water; la it steep.
Stir up an Indian meal. poultice. Spread
the tea loaves on the poultice, put it on the
barn or scald, whichever it may be. If
burnt with powder. it will take the' powder
out, and the skin will be as clear as ever,
A .notorious toper used to mourn about
not having a regular pair of eyes-L•one being
black and the other light heals. Lit is lucky
for you,', replied his friend; 'for if your eyes
had, been matches your nose would have act
them on'ftre long ago.
Formerly, when negrres voted is New
Jersey, a candidate scot to an old negro
preacher two barrels of nice potatoes. Next.
meeting day ho exhorted his bearers on the
duty of voting, and the differetue between
%Vhigs and Democrats. He told the stary
of the receipt or the potatoes, and added:--
4 31 y bredree,somo tell you vote for de Whigs,
some tell you vote for de Democrates: but I
.tell you vote' where you git de tatersl'
: ;
A little boy aSkoci his mother what 'blood,
•
'relations ment. She replied. that it signified
near relativej;ete., After thinking a mo
ment, be said: 'Then, mother you must be
the bloodiest relation I have got.'
Thera is always need for a man to go
higher, if h: has the opacity to go.
.
, Books, liko friends, shourtni few and well
Chosen. Like triend4,- tea, we should return
to them again—for like true friends, they
witl never fail us. never cease to instreptP
never cloy.
To tell our secrets is folly; to.divulp tho
scouts, of others is twollory, • .
'A. new W? 4, topay, old debts' — stop
ing and go to. will:
A ocrvoug divine, wh ., was bat a )-suiti
so preacher, befog orllLd vpon accidenly' for
a sermon, asked a frier4 what he shoal&
preach about, to w 'gut ot h e
'About five Laiatltei,"
NUMBER 52