-~--, '° r "lirii r . 3:3letir.- OLUMh XXI. PC0313"/"ICJALI-... THE LAND OF DREAMS, Ther r q a land, a radiant land, - That the spirit often seeks, Upon whose golden strand The waves of fancy breaks; There the skies are ever fair, And the sunlight ever beams, And the flowers are bright and rare. In that land—the Land of Dreams. In that land—that radiant . laa, Is many a dwelling place, 'hose beauty human hilit , Ceuta never, rimer trace; There joyous songs are heard, In the vales of crystal streams. From breeze, and voice, and bird, In that land—the Land of Dreams To that land,.that radiant land, Whose spirit hath not sailed, To seek the golden strand, When the joy of earth-life tailed; in Thought's grave dark alone, To the realm of changeless beams, For the radiance only know In Mat land—the land of dreams, That spirit lend of dreams? ?MUNN. The dying year! the dying year! The heaven is clear and mild, And withering all the fields appear Where once the verdure smiled. The summer ends its short career, The zephyr hreatha3s farewell; And now upon the closing year The yellow glories dwell, • The radiant clouds float slow above The lake's transparent breast; -.- In splendid fo,lage all the grove, Is fancifully dressed, On many a tree the autumn throws, Its 'brilliant robes of red; As sickness lights the cheeks of those It hastens to the dead. Int tinge is flattering and bright, But Anil they. that see it..; gathering. light Their hrigering hopes 0, Ihus serene,and free from fear, hull be our last repor — This, like-the-sabliath of the, year, Our latest evening close-- IVIIn;iO3MIJIAZLNW.. Honor the Strongest Bond Tyro centuries ago it was thought an in sult in the Highlands of Scotland to a.k a note from a debtor It was considered the same as saying, "I doubt your honor." If parties had small business matters to trans act together, they stepped 'out into open air, fixed their eyes upon the heavens - and, each repeated his obligation with no mortal wit ness. A mark was then carved in some rock or tree near by •to be a rememb-aoce of the compact. Such a thing • as a breach of con• tract, we are toll, was then very rarely met with, so highly did the people regard their honor, and so truly did they fear Him be neath whose eye they performed such acts. IN hen the march o f improvemement brought the new mode of doing business, they were often pained by these innovations. An anecdote is handed down of a farmer who liad_been to the Lowlands and learned world- lywisdom. Oo returning to the native par ho had need of a sum of money, s ide bold to ask a loan of a gentleman o s, named Stewart. This was 'cheerfully gran ted, and Mr. Stewart counted out the gold on his library table. This done, the farmer took a pen and wrote a receipt, and offered it to the gentleman. 'What is this, man ?' cried Mr. Stewart sternly eyeing the slip of paper. 'lt is a receipt, sir, binding me to give ye back yer gold at the tight time,' replied Sandy, 'Binding feet W ell, my man, if ye canna trust yersclf I'm sure I'll nn trust ye Ye canna ha' my gold!' and gathering it up, he put it back in his desk and turnel his key on it. 'But, sir, I might die,' replied the canny Scotch man, bringing up an argument in fa vor of his now wisdom, 'and my sons might refuse it to ye. But this bit o' paper wad compel them' 'Compel them to sustain a dead father's honor !' cried they high minded Scot 'They'll need conantclling to do right if this is the road yer leading them; I'll neither trust ye nor them. Ye can gang elsewhere for money ! But ye'll find none in this par ish that'll put more faith in a bit o'paper than in a neighbor's word o' hOnor and his o' God PROFANITY.— In New York city, recent. ly.a man was fined ten dollars for 'Aug twen ty oaths, the law in.tbat State aEsessing the utterance of an oath at fifty cents. The pro fanity of the people of the United States is of a Milder typo than formerly, but still it is an American peculiarity to back up a state. meat by language which '•savors more of strength than righteousness." as a deceased clergyman open mildly described words un fit for polite cars. An exchange sug.geSts that if the laws making sweating a .final of. fence were enforced thr iughout the whole country, we might improve the morals of the community and pty off the national debt in a very short time. , © WAIIsiESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDA v MORNING, OCTOBER 25, 1867. BREAD UPON THE WATERS A SKETCH FROM LIFE-. "Ah Jacob, now' you see how all your hopes are gone. Ilere you are, worn out with ago—all our children removed from us by the hand of death, and ere long we must be the inmates of the poor. house.— Where, now, is all the bread that you have oast upon the waters?" The old white-haired man looked up at his wife. fie was, indeed, bent- , lown-with- 1 years, and age sat tremblingly upon him. Jacob Manfred bad been' a comparatively wealthy man, and while fortune had smiled upon him, he had ever been among the first to lend a listening ear and a helping hand to. the call of distress But now misfortune was his. . or hislour boys not one was left. Sickness and failing strength found_hins with but-lit tie r antl-t An oppressive embargo upon the ship r' businessn had been the fu weight upon hie head, and other misfortunes came in pain ful succession. Jacob and his wife were all alone, and gaunt poverty looked them coldly in the !ace. "Don't repine, Susan," said the old man "True, we are poor, but we aro not yet for saken." "Not forsaken, Jacob? Who is there to help us now?" • Jacob M an.ferd raised his trembling fingers toward heaven. "Ah, Jacob, I know God is our friend: but. we ought to have friends here. Look back, and eee how many you have befriended in days long past. You cast yon bread up on the waters with a free hand, but it has not returned to, you." "hush, Susan, you forget what you say. To be sure, I may have hoped that eibme kind hand of earth would lift me from he depth of utter wane; but 1 do not t it as a reward for an -thin , " I e done If I have help - cd — t - le - f,rtuna e is days ,ts.d.s y gone by, I have h my full re and in know ing that I have d, o my dot to my fellows. 0! of all the kind de ave done to my suffering fellows, I would uot, for gold, have - on - e - of them blotted—from -my—memory,— Ah, my fond wife, 'tis the memory of the good done in can that makes old age happy. Even now I can hear the warm thanks of those wom lave I.2rien 1 77: can see their smiles." "_Yes, Jacob," returned the wire, in a lower tone; "I know you have boen g_ood and in your ntern — ory - yOu can be happy; but, alas! there is a presen_Lupon which_w_e_tuust_ look;—there is a reality upon which we must dwell. We must beg for food or starve." . The old man etTa — rT.ed, and a deep mark of pain was drawn across hi, features. "Beg!' ho replied, with a quick shudder. .No, Sus•an = we are—" lie hesitated, and a big tear - rolled down his furrowed cheek. • "We are what, Jacob?" 'fWe are going to the poor houqc!" "0, God! 1 thought For fell from the poor wile's lips, as she covered her face with her hands. ."I have—thought so—and I have tried to schbol myself to the thought; —but my poor heart will not bear it " "Do not give up, Susan," softly urged the old man,laying his In n I upon her arm. "It makes but little difference to us now. We have not long to remain upon earth, and let us not wear out our last days in fruitlcSs repinings. Come, come." "But when—when shall we go?' "Now—to-day.'' "Then God have mercy on us.' "lie will,"• murmured Jacob. .The old couple sat for a while in . silence when they were aroused from their painful thoughts, it was by the stopping of wagon in front of their door. A man entered the room where they sat, Ile was the keeper of the poor house. SI an fred," he said, "the select men men have manttAed to crowd you into the poor house. The wagon is at the door, and you must get ready us soon t s possi ble!' Jacob Manfred had not calculated the strength he should need for th,s ordeal There was a coldness,in the very tone and manner of the man who had come for him that went like an ice-bolt to his heart, and, with a deep groan, he sauk into his seat. "Come, be in a hurry," impatiently urged the- keeper. At that moment a heavy covered carryall drove up to the door. '•ls this the house of Jacob Manfred?' The question was asked by a man who en tered from the carryall. lie was a kind. looking man, about forty years of age. • "That's my name," said Jacob. "Theo they told me "truly,", uttered the nevi comer. "Are you from the alms-house?" he con tinned, turning towards the keeper. "Yes." "Arc you after these people?" "Yes." "Then you may return. Jacob Nlaufred goes to no poor house while I. am living." The keeper gazed inquisitively into the features of the stranger, sad left the house. "Don't you remmember me?" exclaimed the new euuriner, grasping the old wan by the hand. -"I cannot call you to my memory now. "Do you remember Lucius Williams?" "Widiaws?' repeated Jacob, starting up and gazing eatuestly into the strauger's face. .Yes, Jacob Manfred—Lucius Williams. That hale boy, whom thirty years ago, you saved from Ole house of coy - notion; that poor boy whom you so kindly took' front the bonds of the law, and placed on board one of your vessels" 'An d are you-7' • 'Yes—yes. 1 am the man you tnado. You baud me a r , l'u,r,h stone from the hands of poverty and example. It was .fu who • Al 3 ..T.33.a.e)rseer:§cleal.t P1z1,132.11 • Neemansparber. ► brushed off the evil, and who first led me to the sweet water of moral life and happiness. I have profited by the lessons you gave me in early youth, and the warm spark which your. kindness lighted up in my bosom has grown brighter' and brighter ever since. With affluence for life I have settled down to enjoy the remainder of my days in peace and quietness. \ I have heard of your losses andyour bereavements. Come, I 'have a home and a he: „ and your presence will make them both :rii hter hap pier. Came,aly-112-0 nd on my mother, come. You made my youth all bright, and I will not see your old age doom ed to darkness." Jacob Manfred tottered forward,and sank upon the botiont of his preserver. He could not speak his thanks, f.. 4 they were too heavy for words. When ho looked up again he sought his wife. "Susan," he said, in a choking, trembling_ tone, "my bread has come back to me.' • Forgive me Jacob.' "No, Susan. It is not I who must for give—God holds us in His hand" "Ab r '' murmured the wife, as she raised her streaming eyes to heaven; "I will 'never doubt 11:m again' Courtship in Greenland There is something exceedingly melancholy in the aceountswhieh are given of the cus• toms of courtship in Greenland. Generally women enter upon the blessed estate with more willingness and .less solitude than the men The women of greenland are an ex ception to this rule. A Greenlander, having fixed his affections upon some female, ac qiirn-nts his parents with the state of his heart. They apply to the parents of the girl, and if the parties so far agreed, the next pro ceeding- is to brpaoh thb subject to the young lady. . The lady embassatiors do not shock the young lady by any sudden or abrupt a vowal of the awlul subject of their mission Instead of this, they launch out in praises of the gentleman who seeks her hart. They speak of the splendor of' his house, the sumptuousness of his courage in catching seals, and other_like aecomplishinants. The -lady-,-pretending to be affronted even at these !emote lints, runs away, tearing the ring lets of her hair as she retires, while the am bassadors, having gat the consent of her pa- rents, pursue or, ,rag ter rum or con cealment, take her by force to the house of her destined husband, and there leave her. Compelled_taremain -there,- she-sits--fur days With disheveled hair, silent and deject -ed,--refusing--every kiwi-of-sustenance, til last, it kind entreaties, do not prevail, she is eompelled by force, and even blows, to sub mit to the union. In some cases, Greenland women taint at the proposal of marriage ; iu others, they fly to the mountains, and return when compelled to by cold and hunger. If one cuts off her hair, it is a sign that she in. tends to resist till, death. All this seems so unnatural- to us that we seek for a reason fur such an apparent violation of the first princi ple of human nature. The Greenland wife is the slave of her husband, doomed to a lila of toil, drudgery, and privation, and, if he die she and her children have no resource agabist starvation. One Man too Many in A merioa. Rev. George Hepworth, in his oration be fore the people of Boston, on the 4th of Ju ly, had an illusion to Jeff. Davis, which will find an echo iu•tnilliousof loyal hearts : 'Ah ! lam not cruel. .1 do not. like to speak about the merited punishment of a bad man. But this I say: There is one man too many in America. America ever busy and eager, filled with the hope of the morrow more than with the memory of any past, holds the great offender, the man who stood at the head of the organized . rebellion, and cheered his soldiers to their bloody, work, within her fortressed walls. The people cry for justice with thunder tones that echo flora the•Pacifia to the, Atlantic slope. But policy or cowardice, I know not which, finds excuse for delay, and by slow degrees the people's cry grows fainter and fainter, until at last when the prisoner is released, scarce a ripple of surprise or interest ruffles the sur faceft of the nations daily li . Posterity shall read this terrible sentence, written on the bloody page of our time, republic at taches no penalty to a great crime. Only a petty r.,ailt is punished) while collossal crime finds an apologist, if not •an eulogist, and holds its court in Canada. God grant it may not be the seed-corn of,another rebellion.' WHAT A DIME CAN Do.—As a weary traveler was wending his way through the mud in a far-west region of the country, he discovered a young maiden seated in front of the door of a small log house. lie rode up in front of the cabin, and asked the girl for a drink of water. Ile drank it, and, she be ing the first women De had seen for several days, offered her a dime fur a kiss The you ig maiden accepted the offer, and re ceived both the dime and the kiss. The traveler was about to resume his journey, but the girl, never before had seen a dime, asked: What am I to do with the dime?' 'You way use it in any way you wink,' he replied, 'it is yours.'• .1f that's the ease.' said she, 'I will give you back the dime and take au. other kiss.' • An Trish fair one wrote to her lover, hoc , ging him to send her some money She ad• ded by way of post script, aw so fis h an t e d of the request I have wade in this letter, that I sent after the .postman to fzet it back, but the servant o old not overtake hiui.' How many young w en are Carried away by a fine, musical, chi t tbning voice-z-a pretty, ligh tfo.tted, reeling, baiiinotu dancer—a lazy, lounging streetyarning flirt- r -an oily-tongued, hollow-hearted, deceptive piano-pounder, and regret their folly when, alas, too late. ••14.0• Sukscribe for the RECORD. Woman shout)ruse, but not govern. A Western edi•or thinks if the proper way of spelling, tho is 'though,' and hos beauX,' the proper way of Fpelling potatoes wust be 'tough teigliteaux; The new way of spelling softly is psoughtleigh. .' "i 3 An Adventure in the Cars There Were five of us—yes, five as happy fellolvs - as - were let loose from college It was "vacation," and we concluded to take a trip to the Falls. , We got on board of the oars at N., and were soon traveling - very rapidly toward our destination. We had just seated ourselves and prepar ed for a comfortaole smoke, when in came the conductor, and who should it be but our Mend Fred B. After the common saluta tions, "How are you old Jellow?'' Ito., had Fled said be bad some business for 119 to attend to. 'Out with it, o cl urn said we, •auyth•ing at all will be acceptable, so let us have itF 'Well, boys,' said Fred, in a Confidential tone, 'in the next car there is as lovite a pair as it was ever my lot to see. They are going down to U. to get married, and now, if you can have any fun over it just pitch in. They must be cared for and 1 don't know who can do it better than you.' In a moment Fred was gone and we set our heads together to form a plan for 'taking tare of the lovers.' have it boys!' said Stevers: 'we must make the girl think that her lover is married—' 'That's it, that's it!' said we, not giving him time to finish his sentence. 'That he is a married man and the father of children,' said Bill. 'That's the game, boys; now let us play it! 'lt devolved upon me to commence opera flocs Accordingly, I entered the car in which we were infoinied the lovers were. The girl, thinking, I suppose, that she niust . give her lover all the seat, sat on his knee; anti, he for the purpose of protecting her, of course, had thrown his arms around ber waist; and so they sat, in real soft lover's style. All this I gathered at the glance. Step ping up to them, I said: 'Why, Jones, what in the deuce Are you doing with that giril' , The girl rose hastily and seated herself on the seat. 'See here stranger!' said the fellow, ‘you'r a bit tnis:akent ruy name iSn'l7 - Jones. ) 'Why, Jones,' said 1, 'you certainly hay en't lel t your wife and children, and tried to • : : ,irir"Tv" tell you my name ain't June's, it's Bar ley. It never was Jones; 'taint agoin to be h r►' I merely shook my head and passed to a otlrer-sea-t-to-siee-tire-reet-of-the fob. T gill looked 'wild' alter I sat down, but Jones alias Ilarper, soon convinced her that I was mistaken. About the time they had got feeling right again, in came Elliott Gregg Walking up to Harper,_ he accosted Into with: 'Why Jones you here? How did you leave your wife and babies?' 'See here, stranger, you ain't the firiii man that's called me Junes to day, an' I reokon I must look awfully like him but I aiult- Junes. I hain't got any wile nor babies ei ther; but this gal and me is going to splice, an' then you can talk d b on toy W ift) —and I wouldn't wonder but in the course of time you might talk about babies too, but you musn't call me Junes' The retort brought forth vociferous laugh ter from the spectators, and it also brought blushes to the taco of the girl. 'Ah, Jones.' said Gregg, 'you will regret this in the future. I pity your wife 'and this poor girl. '-So, Harper, your real name is Jones, is it?—an' you've been footle' we, have you? Well, we ain't spliced yet, an' 1 don't think we will be soon,' said the girl, and her eyes fairly flashed fire. 'Jane, Jane!' said Harper, 'don't you know I'm Bill Harper. There ain't_ a_ darn_ drop of Jones blood in me, an' _prove' it.' At this moment Jeff Jackson, Bill Ste vers and Jim Byers entered, and, of course their attention was called to Harper by his loud talking. They stepped up to him, and said: 'Why ; Jones, what is all this fuss a bout?' This was more than Harper could stead. He leaped upon a seat. 'No,' said he, 'my name is not Jones, and I can lick the fellow that says it is' By tins time we-bad not to II , and our friend Fred came into the car and Harper kept quiet. The girl that wouldn't be spli ced requested Fred to help her on the train that was going back to while be, and the notorious, Junes, alias Harper, followed .her. We learned afterwards that be proved himself to be Bill Harper, instead of .Jones, and he and his gal Jane 'got spliced.' I must pity that young man who with a little finery of dress and recklessness of man ner, with his coarse passions all daguerreo .typed upon his.face, goes whoopinr , through the street, driving an animal much nobler then himself, or swaggering into some haunts of show and calls it enjoying life.' lie thinks he is 'astonishing the world; and he is astonishing the thinking part of it, who are astonished that he is not astonished at hitu3elf. For look at that compound of flesh and impudence, and say if on all this earth there'is anything more pitiable. Dose he known anything of the true. joy of life?— As well say that-the beauty and immensity of'the universe were , all enclosed in the field where the prodigal lay among the husks and swine.— CAopin. • • The Significance of Legg:— Some enthusiastic Frenchman once de clared the human leg to be the moat philos ophical of all etndies. `Show me the leg; said Gautier,. 'and I will judge the mind,' and it does seem quite as natural that the limb should indicate the temperament. What sloth, for instance, does an obese limb betrayi What a shrew is.the possessor of a limb like a milking stick! But what a gentle-woman is sbe of the awaked instep, the round ankle, and the graceful pedestal, swell •ing to perfection and modulation to light- leg with the knotted calf exhibits!. What an irresolute .gioul does the lanky limb betray! How well the strong ankle intimates the firm purpose—how the ftat ankle reveals the, va cant mind! Young men about to marry—observe : The dark girl with a large leg will become fat at thirty, and lie abed reading novels till midday. The brunette with- pleader, very slender limbs, will worry your soul out with jrealJugy. The, olive skinned maid with a pretty round leg will make you happy. The blonde with large limbs will degenerate at thirty-five into the possession of ankles doub le the natural size and afflicted .with rheuma tism. The fair-haired damsel will get up at half-past five a in. to scold the servants, and will spend her nights talking scandal, over tea. The light rosy girl, with a sturdy, muscu lar, well turned leg, will be just the girl fur you. If you can find a red-haired girl, with a large limb, pop the qnestion at ones! • The short lady should always possess a large and ample one. These aro the rules to observe in making your choice! We do not make them—Nature has esteilished them,• and we merely announce them for the benefit of mankind. No doubt these hints are reliable, and the prevailing fashions make them quite practi cal and available.—Nelo York San. No Cause for Grumbling. There are certain chronic, grumblers who delight in predicting hard times, particularly at this season of the year, when winter is j ust - at - h and; - It is not good Tolley 01-nourse to color the picture of the times too highly, but it is certainly safeto say that there is o-g-rtquid4or-speei-al-oomplaiat- r from-an—es timate by the Agricultural liureau at Wash ington. It appears from-the crop that--the-aggregate wheat crop of the United States will this year be nearly fifty per cent rgerthan it te.ay laA - year - U - p - ott — the sup ply of wheat depends the price of flour, and: hence no trouble in the bread market need be apprehended. Some of the minor crops are not up to the average yield, but there is no reason to grumble about any of • them With the unusually large wheat crop. coal down to $G per too, dry goods from fifty to one hundred per vent, lower than they were two years ago, general prices constantly ten ding downward, together with a fair business season and financial soundness—with all these encouraging eiteutnstances, there is no cause for complaint about bard times—except from the drones. HAPPY END TO A DEBT.—In the fall of 1847, a young man went to Now York in quest of employment. After weeks of un successful search, ho found himself without a prospect of work, and considerably in debt for board. In despair, he made arrange ments to dispose of his clothes by • auction, in order to defray his debts, when a letter sent him containing a twenty-dollar bill, and directing him to the overseer of one of the corporations. The letter requested him to sign a note of hand for the amount loaned, and place it in a certain unoccupied box in the post offide, where it would be called for by the lender. The young man did as di rected, received the situation, the overseer stating that it ban been secured for him at the earnest solicitation of a young lady,— Years past away, and all attempt to discover his creditor was unavailing. , The young man'prospered in business, and at length plighted his affections to au amiable young lady with whom he had been acquainted. On the day before their Marriage he received a letter, requesting him to call at a certain place and pay the note of twenty dollars, with interest, which he had signed some years before. Anxious to settle an indebted ness which from the mystery of the whole affair had caused him many hours of unhap pinoss, he hastened to the place indicated, ani was ushered by the domestic into the parlor, where to his astonishmenthe discov ered in the person of his unknown benefact or, the lady with whom, upon the next day, he was to unite his earthly •fortune It was her first business transaction' and the partnership which resulted was a long and happy one, only to be dissolved when the last debt of all—the debt of nature—had to be paid. The oldest inhabitant in Allegheny county Maryland, was married the other day, at the ripe age of one hundred and two, to a see• and wife. The happy couple are now on their bridal tour -northward. To morrow may never come to us. • We cannot find it in any of our title-deeds. The man who owns whole blocks of real estate, and great ships on the seas, does not owu a single minute of to-morrow.! It is a myste rious possibility. not yet born. It is under the seal of midnight—behind the veil of glistening constellation.— Cliampin. A Milwaukee orator recently remarked that there were in that city 'one hundred young men studying law who had not brains enough to wheel a wheelbarrow straight, nor nommen sense sufficient to know how to cross a street without getting into the deep est, muddiest hole.' Trips help to save from tumbles, 1812.00 Peas "rear. Autuinzi Days "When the autumn days come," says Beeelfer, "Nature r "like - a retired merchant, changes its manner from thrift and bustling industry to languid leisure and to ostenta tious luxury. The sun Ikea later and seta earlier than when it - kir all the summer'a crops on hand, and was playing universal husbandman. There is so nest, buildiug now, and no bird singing—which is a purely do weak arrangement, designed, on the birds'• part, to keep peace in the family while the children are being raised, and laid aside as ,341 3 ..cp 41 , 41 ._.bi r d,„ .. al . Mornings come-f l eeced in mists, which hang over streams and low, moist places. The sun plays with them, but they perish in his arms. A few belated fliwers yet keep watch, but chiefly the asters,-whieh-fringe-the-fl-,lti-, star the edges of forests, and, like a late con . er at a feast, seem bent upon making up fur lost time. -, 41,4 nj'-. • •. serape their shrill vials, and fill the air with stridulous music. Over all the shrinking fields, the trees' lifted up their gorgeous fol. liege, and, like those who.wait for the mar• Huge bell and the bridegroom, they shine out in glorious apparel. The hills, forev dad, are become the Lord's younger sous, and, 'like .Joseph, they are dressed in a coat of many c tots. October days, Short be tween horizons, reach higher into—the vau't than any days of the year; and tbro4,h them the season seems to look with softened sadness, as one who, in the calm of age, med itates on all the mistakes of his past life, and solemnly thioks upon the advancing future. Along the fence rows, where seeds and late berries may be found, birds 'hop silently, as if ashamed to be seen. Soup they will change their solitary ways and collect in flocks. Today, the fields • will swarm with them; to-morrow, there will not he one left, and they will be picking - their food many de grees of latitude south. What is the use iu talking about the de. crease of the.colored population in the South, iu the face of the folluwiag tact vouched fur by the. Uasper (Texas) Newa Boy: The wile of our worthy colored teliow-citizuu• Bill Iladuot, presouted him with four babies a . few days ago, one weighing eight. pounds one twelve, one thirteen one tiiteeu—furty eight pounds of babies at one birth. In the laugutip of Bill, we sa .Beat d i _ 11. , -....0....-......2-1 am • unuiT — lf you eau'', 6ay no inure uouut no " o Toe inferiority! I_z K: . Said Cbrysostoin: 'lf a man lose an eye, • ri-earot- traridTtrfontrOvd has given the:e members double, so that there is another left, but the soul is one, and only one, and it that is lost you have nut another to be sa ved with. 0, therefore be restless WI it be, till you know it to be, out of the reach of eternal danger.' 'Bill' said Bob,'why is that tree called; a weeping willow?' 'Cause one of the nasty things grew- near our school house and supplied the muster with switches.' Gold gives a ready passport to any gate except to Heaven's. Gaming is the child of avarice and father of despire. To the wicked, the virtues of other men are always objects of terror. To be angry with a weak man, is a proof that you are not very strong yourself. Ennntny joined to industry and sobrie ty, is a better outfit for business 'than dower. A great many human _beings dig their graves with their teeth; ihcy over-eat. Patriotism contemplates tlie good of our country; but philanthropy tho good of man kind. What is more boautnu'l and poetical than the child's idea of ice—'%Vater gone to sleep ' Life consists not is existance, but in the well•spending of our time. To be pond of learning is the,greateet ig norance. hardspi to turn: A ilott• out. hat key is t key. . • What resembles dow? One lookm, What is more like u horst,'s shoe? A mart'd shoe. Nothing eau be great which iv not right Give.to the needy, whether he nsketh or not. Praise not the unworthy, though they roll io riche ,s. When the night is darkest, dawn is the nearest. What tune is that iho ladies never cal for? Why the spit-teen.. The way to be happy is to be good High words—Conversation in a balloon Promises are blossoms; deeds-are limits The slanderer differs Irina the assassin in, murde-riog the reputation instead of the body. Why i s a person :ipproacliitig a candle like a man getting .tlf his hum? Mange he's goiug to alight. NUMBER 15 king iu the win.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers