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‘'OLUME XXI.
X?CPIUM'IC:III. 3 Ge.
lyor .the • Villa go B
ADDRESS TO SPRING.
BY V. B.
Oh. lovely companion, would you ever could reign,
To gable us - to - pleasure from sorrow and pain,
life's joys would tic fairer tintliturer I know,
Than the honeyed flake of winter's plirs snow;
Tie eve.% is delightful, the sun's • golden ray
Ms tinted the clouds fir distant away,
The birds of the forest with ecstacy sing
And seem to say 'tis spring. 'tis spring.
How gladly Wewelc , mo thy coming again,
Oh could wt• fon•cer t eauties rr 11
You comp• like an angel who bails from above,
To waft to rs tokens of In aven'i,_puri. love;
No more think we now or VI inter's d ,
Thy chairs have eland Ma prernmee iant,
Thy gentle: hn eze pit:nes in tnt•rrieet g lee,
And seems almost to whisper be merry with roe.
With transport we welcome the beautiful spring,
The song of t he-poet,-l:
In hisfancy he pictures you wondrous and fair ;
But he fail.. to express what thy realities are,
Ever true to thy trust you deceive none we know,
But prompt to the tim' thy loVeliness show;
Would that all here on earth were ever like you,
Then_every_friend_would alwpys prove true.
Then every one in this land of the Welt,
Would deceive nom) and - strive for the best ;
They'd be truthful and honest with innocence unite,
"I'vccoild be a world of most pleasant sight,
Then every one would be free from
En . ° in_ the bl
s b Oinni.ntence given,
Each would enjoy life's precious hours,
'Twould strew our pathway forever with flowers
But my mind has wondered far from the scene,
The birds, the breezo, and landscapes now green,
The sun has de-cended behind hilltops now hidden,
The moon has ascended the glorious heavens ;
The poet may sing of thy gorgeous array,
Fronk twilight of eve 'till dawning of day,
He cannot picture thy glorying display,
But alas thy glittering hues vanish, they soon pass
away.
-.. .
THE FIRST BLUE BIRD.
Whatever weight the hours have born
Along the path of frost and snow,
The world is never too forlorn
For birds to sing again ; we know,
That earliest buds will soon expand,
That spring is somewhere in the land,
For hark! the blue bird sings
Somewhere the grass is green again,
The meadow mild with shower and sun ;
Out bud the trees. up stale the grain,
Through balmy woods the brook doth run,
If anywhere such things may be,
Then why not soon for thee and me 1
For hark ! the blue bird sings.
The world is old, the world is old,
But spring is ever fresh and new ;
No,dream se fair, no hope so bold,
But some sweet day may find it true
Who knows how soon that morn may rise
Knd fill us with a glad surprise?
For hark ! the blue bird Sings
IVI lIS CIM Ma T-a .A.N - Ir .
The Tomb of Rachel.
James Brooks, senior editor of the New
York Express, writing to that journal from
the Holy Land, says: -
'Upon my return to Bethlehem, I rode by
the tomb of Rachel—a small with
a whitened dome, and having within it a
high, oblobg monument, built of brick and
stuccoed over. This spot is wild and eon
tory, and not a tree spreads its shadoW where
rests the beautiful mother of Israel. Chris
tian, Jew and Moslem, all agree this is jest
the spot where Rachel was buried, and all
unite in honoring it. The Turks are anx
ious that arches ales may rest near hers, and
hence their bodies have been strewn under
tombs all around the tomb of Rachel. The
sweet domestic virtues of the wife have won
their love and admiration, as has the tomb of
Absalom, near the brook of Kedron, their
dete3tation ; upon the hitter they throw a
stone to mark their horror of a disobdient
son, while around the former they wish,
when they die, their bodies may be interred.
Nor is •this wonderful The wife, worth
fourteen years of service 'as a shepherd,
must have been a wife worth having.
'The whole life of Rachel is, indeed, one
of the most touching in Biblical history.—
The sweet shepherdess has left her mark up.
pon the memory of man, as well as her tomb.
The tribute to her is the tribute to a good
wife; an infidel, Jew and Cristian, all Com
bine to pay it. The great women of the
earth—the Zenobias and Cleopatras—have
died, been buried, and their very place of
burial been forgotten; but to this day stands
over the grave of Rachel, not the pillar Ja
cob sot up, but a modern monument in its
place, around which pilgrims from every
land and sun gather in respect and reverence
for the faithful wife and good mother in Is.
rael.
A foreignkr who heard of tho Yankee pro
pensity for bragging thought he would beat
the natives at their own game. Berlin some
very large watermelons on a.market woman's
stand, he exclaimed, 'What! don't you raise
larger apples than these in America?' 'The
quick-witted woman immediately replied,
'Apples! anybody might know you wore a
foreigner, them's gooseberries !' '
vorite theme;
your esteem. Indeed, I fancied from ,what
he said, that he was quite sure of the nature
-of-your-feeling for him, else he had not
spoken to me.'
Jennie's indignation now reached its Ali. :
max. She elevated her naturally rather
aspiring nose, until it stood at right angles.
'Quite sure, was he ? I don't knew why
he should be, then, I never gave him any
reason to feel so- confident.
Mr. Stacey looked rather gravely at his
daughter.
`I don't know what you've said to • him,
but I know that he's been here a good deal,
and you've always seemed glad to see him.
I hope you hav'nt been trifling with the
youngman, Jennie. Am I to understand
that you don't intend to marry him?'
Jennie's round and rosy face assumed as
_lofty an expression as features could be- ex
pected to wear, not formed exactly from the
heroic mould. •
The concluding sentence was a quotation
from her favorite novel, ‘Astrea; or The
,Stony-Hearted Father,' and was pronounced
with no vehemence of look or tone.
'So be was until I found him out. I did
think a great deal of the young man, but af
ter•what has happened, be shall never dark
en my door again !'
WAINESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MOANIK--APRIL X 14,1868.
THE TYRANNICAL FATHER.
'Jennie,' •aid Mr. Stacey. one evening, to
his daughter, Edward Wright called at my
store to-day, I. enppoue you know what
for!'
'How should T know what for, papa?' re
turned Jennie, with a look of 1.10C006601113-
nEss that was belied by the vivid crimson
that rose from the cheeks to the temples.
'I suppose it was to see about an order for
some goods or something
;Not' exactly,' replied her father, smiling.
'He came to see me about you; in •short to
ask my permission to address you.'
Jennie reddened again; but the sudden
flash dint gleamed out from beneath the
brown lashes spoke more of scorn than satis
faction.
.01 course I gave my consent, continued
Mr Stacey, after waiting his daughter to
reply.
It you hadn't I suppose that would have
• r :o far as be wue oneern-
ed, retorted Jennie, with a sarcastic touch
that was gum, Ica upou her, rnatter-of fact
father
'Well, my dear, I don't know as there is
any need of raining that rinet-tion. I could
have uo rearouable ohjectiou to a well-princi
pled, inte.ligent young wan like Mr Wiigh',
acid who is, withal, doing an excellent but-i
ness. So it remains for you to say whether
you will-be-M rs-Edward-W right.'
Jennie puttied up her rosy rips with an
air of great dignity.
bavn't been asked yet.'
‘No, I suppose nut. But I shouldn't
wonder if be was here to-night for that ex
press_purpose
'Tlion,,as a glimmer of the truth entered
his mind, Mr. Stacey added :
•1 trust thai you are not so foolish, my
daughter, as to take offence because he spoke
to me about it first. In so doing he acted
honorably,_and_as_every_man should, and it
t. ather than lo er ltir9 in
Mr. Wright is an excellent young ,man,
papa. I've nothing to say against him.—
But I would sooner perish than unite my
faith with one whose feelings are so an
tagonistic to the holiest sympathies of my
nature.'
Mr Stucey stared at his daughter for a
moment without speaking.
'1 really do not•see, my dear;' he said dry
ly, 'any - necessity for so much display of en
ergy; it you don't like Mr. Wright we.l
enough to marry Mai, all that you have got
to do is to tell him so.'
Here was a 'come down' to Jennie's soar
ing imagination. Her father absolutely re
fuseci to play the role of the Stony. Hearted
Father ; ruthlessly destroying the secret hope
that had risen in her heart, that some ro
mantic incident, for which she had so often
longed, was about to - break the sameness - of
her dull and prosy He.
.And to increase her dissatisfaction, Ed
ward Wright, whom she really liked, and
whom she had invested with many of the
virtues and graces that adorned her favorite
heroes, instead of throwing himself at her
feet and declaring that no power on earth
should take her from him, had actually con
descended to the common sense and con
ventiousal method of asking her father's per
mission before speaking to, her ! Nothing
more was necessary to prove to her that he
was net, to use her own language, 'the
chosen arbiter of her destiny.'
After tea Jennie slipped out of the back
way, and ran ever to a neighbor's, for the
two fold purpose of avoidinti, what she was
phased to term the 'persecutions' of the a
foresiad •Mr Edward -Wright, and pour her
troubles—or rather her waut of any—into
the sympathizing bosom of her dear *friend ,
Arabella Eugenia Angelina Stubbs.
Jennie being firmly convinced that •the
course of true love never did run smooth,'
and as in the event of her becoming Mrs.
Edward Wright there would be nothing jet
for her to do but to order her•wedding finery,
and go through with the requisite aoremony,
she either avoided the poor fellow altogeth
er, or treated him with such an air of lofty
indifference as to pot him to his wits' end to
discover the cause of this singular change in
her conduct.
'Jennie,' said Mr. Stacey, a few weeks af
ter, 'who was that young man that you were
talking with at the gate this morning ?'
'Edward Wright, papa,' rellied Jennie,
not a little astonished at this abrupt inquiry,
as well as the scowl that accompanied it,
'Well, never let me see you with him a•
gain 1'
Jennie opened her eyes still wider.
'Why. not 7' I thought Edward was a
great favorite of yours?'
132.clappricle•rit V'etriall3r NArsisrompeote.
'Dear me S what in the world has be dune?'
'Done? what ought to send him to • the
penitentiary—what would send hini there if
I had the law in my hands'
The sudden pallor that swept over Jon
nie's face would have betrayed to the most
indifferent eye,the true state of her affec
tions
papa 'Do
' you mean that he has bean stealing,
Stealing, he has done worse than that!'
'Good heavens !' faltered poor Jennie,'has
be been killing anybody ?' _
'Worse than that. Alma that will self
his coriptry is Iforse than a murderer and_
any one that will vote for that lying douhle•
faced traitor, Higgins, is a worse scoundrel
than he :'
•Is that all ?' said Jennie, drawing a long
sigh of-relief. thought it was something
dreadful.'
'Ah !' echoed her father. 'I should Hay
that it was enough —quite enough to sink
it 8, —1 nes man.
Once mote. 1 say, don't lei me see you with
him again !'
Hen , Mr Stacey stamped out of the room,
banging the door after him.
'Good gracious T. exclaimed Jennie, as she
picked up the contents of her work basket,
that her father had knocked over in.bis fu-
rious exit, should like to know what's got
into pa, all at once To think of hislorbid
ding me to speak-to Edward just, for that
And with flushed cheeks and a flutter of
delight at her heart, at the thought of hay-
Hing 'something to fell,--and—that- something
•so strange and mysterious,' she sought tlie
presence of her usual confidant, the fair Ar•
- abella - Eugenie Angelina - Stubbs to - whom-it
was' duly unfolded with sundry embellish
ments the fruits of her fertile imagination,
and who quite agreed with her in thinking
it to be 'the strangest thing that ever came
to her knowledge'
— qeonie, said Mr. — Stacey;the — neat day
sI • : • ' 7 I I t I. t u ne
leave the house, 'young Wright had the im
pudence to speak to me again about you ; and
intimates that'he did so by your permission,
you may as well know, once for all, that it
can never be! I would sooner see you in
your grave than the wife of such a man ! I've
got a husband picked out for you. Deacon
Obidiah Pittigrew is a man that will do you
and the family credit.'
'Deacon Pittigrew ? Why, pa, he's more
than twice my age !'
'That's the very reason why I have selec
ted him; you need some one to keep you
steady. Ile will be here to-morrow evening
and I shall expect you to receive him with
the respect and conlideration due to your
future husband.' I
Before his daughter had time to recover'
from the astonishment into which this an
nouncement threw her, 11r. Stacey waft some
way•down the street.
'Well, I know two things,' exclaimed Jen
nie, putting down her foot with a determin•
ed air ; I won't. have that stupid Deacon Pit
tigrew, and I will have—Edward Wright!'
As ehe said this she took from her bosom
a letter from the last named individual, full
of proiestations of "undying love, ai•d implor
ing her to meet him at 6 o'clock that even
ing, re-reading it for the fortieth time with
flushing cheeks and kindling eyes •
That evening as Jennie went to the ap•
pointed plsce, which she did not fail to do,
she found Edward waiting for ber.
Instead 3f wearing his usual cheerful look
and pleasant smile, ho stood leaning against
a tree, with arms folded across his chest, and
a gloomy cloud upon his brow. 'Looking,'
as Jennie confidentially informed the sympa
thizing Arabella Eugenie Angelina Stubbs,
for all the world like the picture of Rubert
I)i Rinaldo, in 'The Brigand of the Black
Forrest.'
Edward found little difficulty in persuad•
ing her to leave home, and unite her fate
with his.--Accordingly„. _the next night, as_
soon as the house was still, Jennie, envoi.
oped in a dark mantle, and face concealed by
a thick closely drawn veil, stole out through
the back way to the place where her luver '
was waiting.
He had a covered carriage, and, though
the night was dark, she could see the dim
outline of a man upon the box.
They rode two hours, mostly in silence;
for, now that the irrevokable step was taken,
Jennies's courage began to fail her, and she
grew depressed in spirits—she hardly knew
why. it seemed to her that they would nev
er reach their destination, which Edward
had informed her WAS the house of a clergy
man in an adjoining town Bat at last, to
her great relief, the carriage stopped.
'To avoid observation, we are going in
through the back way,' whispered Edward,
as he assisted her to alight. 'Draw your
veil close around your face - . -
The night was ao dark that she could not
see the least thing, and ahe clung nervously
to the hand that led her along a short path,
over a plat of grass, np some steps, into a
dark, oat row passage, which led into a hall,
and from thence into a room that opened out
of it, lighted by one small, low himp. Be
side the table on which it was pheed the
clergyman stood—a venerable looking man
—and at the lower end of the apartment
seemed to be a number of persons, thougb
the light was so dim that only the outlines
of their forms were visible. ,
Edward spoke a few whispered words to
the elergymau, and theu the ueretnouy cool•
tueneeti.
As soon as the last words were spoken, as
if by a preconcerted movement, tl►e two
but oors at each end of the room were light.
ed, filling it scab a sudden blaze of light,
while a merry peal of laughter made it ring
again and again. ~...
As soon as jennte's dazzled eyes would
permit her to see, she found, to her astonish
ment, that she was back in the houso .that
she supposed she had quitted forever, and
surrounded by her father, and quite a large
group of friends and relatives.
'My daughter,' said Mr. Stacy, advancing
toward her, 'I trust that I have played the
role of the 'tyrannical father' to your oldie
satisfaction, and that you will now permit
me to offer you my congratulation upon a
marriage that has long been the, first wish
of my heart.'
'I hope you enjoyed your ride,' said her
roguish brother Tom, who in the capacity of
coachman, had driven her all about the out.
skirts of thel town, and finally back to the
place from where she Rtarted.
'ITAr could you deceive me so? said Jen.
nie, turning her eyes reproachfully upon her
husband, as her mind slowly took in the ruse
that. had been played upon her!
'My dearest love,' he said, with a look
that quite disarmed her, 'lt was the only
way by which I could hope to win you.'
•
Candle Theory.
Many persons have heard it asserted that
_..ow can wr en 'Wl — from an ors
nary gun,
with the usual charge of powder,
at a deal board three quarters of an inch
thick, will pass through the board, but very
few who have not seen it done believe it.—
On Monday a party of riflemen and other
gentlemen,lbi the purpose of deciding a bet
on the subject, adjourned to the butts of the
North Middlesex Rifles at Child's [lilt,
where a board of the thickness described
having been fixed in an upright position, au
coa.mon half penny dip was fired from a
towling-piece, from a distance of about fif
teen-paces- The candle struck _the_board
with its full length, and passed through,
leaving a bole exactly the shape of the can
dle. The remains of the-candle were found
scattered in pieces resembling snow-flakes - on
the high mound of earth in the rear of the
-board. A second candle, when fired from
the fowling-piece, passed through the board;
making a circular hole,
which was, however,
-very - jagged - reficedlKV
tcrutd-tcreante4-1F
u away a large piece of the board
One inches long and three inches bread,
breaking away the boundary on one side of
the hole made by the first ihot. A candle
fired from a rifle failed to pass through the
board. The grooves of the rifle stripping
the tallow from the wick as it passed out.—
The smooth-bore fowling-piece was loaded
each time with two and a half drachms of
powder, a small piece of paper as a wad, and
a common tallow dip, which had
,not been
specially prepared- in any_ manner.— Court
Journal.
Are you forming a — eh — aracter P Fashion it
well Is it beautiful now, in its early devel
opment? • How much more so will it be when
all its lair proportions stand revealed in full
maturity. The rosebud - ; kills infant state
of outswelling, is a grateful sight, but how
transcendently lovely doillit become, when
it bursts forth a full blown rose. Character,
like the rose, is seen only by gradual devel•
opments. It-is formed only by constant, pa
tient, persevering effort. A thousand rills
constitute the soureLs from whence it is de
rived. Character is beautiful, and it_beauti
fies all who possess it. It is to be pifzed—it
is inestimable. It gives man that- which
wealth cannot impart, and gold is too mean
to purchase. Who ever attained to any etni•
nence without character? Who ever made
himself a monarch over his fellows, and sway
ed them by thoughts of his own, who , had
not character ?, Young man! if you have a
bad character, determine to improve' it, If
you have none at all, resolve to acquire one.
Gain a character, such as will elevate you to
heights of honor. Such as will shed around
you a lustre while living, embalm you' mem
ory with precioils l recollections when dead,
and throw a radiance down the streaD of
time, for the guidance of those yet to we.
TAKE CARE! —low many of us in our mad
pursuit of weirlth, or fame, or pleasure, are
willing to give a passing glance at- the Jaws
upon which our very existence depends.—
The subject that should first interest mortal
man is man himself. lle should look into
the organiz•ition of his body, and study the
laws by which that organization is governed'
Yet, in this nineteenth ceritury—fhis age of
science—how few are there who bave boot►
educated, or have educated themselves, for
the important work of taking care of their
bodies! And in consequence of this neglect,
how many their arc who, day after day, coo•
tinue to violate the plainest and most itOpera
tive laws of uature, till, finally they 'bring
disease and premature death upon themselves
a penalty for violated laW.
Wise Paragraphs
Waste nothing, neither money, time nor
talent.
Always tell the truth; you will - Ind it
easier than lying.
He who gives a trifle meanly is far mean
er than the trifle
A heart lud of grace is batter dna a bead
full of notions.
Meu looking tit the faults of women should
shut their eyes.
If we seize too rapidly we may have to
drop as hastily.
Experience is a torch lighted in the ashes
of our deletions.
Prosperity is a blessing to the good but a
curse to the evil.
Let everything have its place and every
business its place.
Bettor bo upright with poverty than wick
ed with plenty...
The tenderest keart loves best the bold
and courageous one.
The perfumes of a thousand roses Roos die,
but the pain caused by one of their thorns
remains long after. A saddened remembrance
in the midst of wirtt is like that thorn among
the roses.
:In vbritscover house you outer, rounin
wafer of your oyes acd your longue. '
Character.
Children Lost—their lives preser
ved by a Dog . _ • -
[From the Keokuk (Iowa) Constitution.] •
On Alt ednesday two boys named Lynch and
Nicholson, aged respectively . nine and ten
years, went to the woods west of the city, to
get a piece of hickory to make a bow. They
wandered out, so far that they got lost. In
their bewildered state they searched about
for some land mark that would lead them to
their homes. While thus engaged, they es
pied a black limb frisking about neat them,
and Lynch told Nicholson that he was going
to catch it, and accordingly gave chase.. In
-a-fe w-mouten te-he-and—the—latub—had—both
dies ppeared in the thick under-brush NMI
°too, after waiting some time for Lynch to
return, set about to find the way back to the
city himself, which he succeeded in doing,
and arrived at home late in the evening.—
Young Lynch, hoivever, was not -so fortun
ate. lie wandered about in the woods till
late at night, when he lost all hope of fiudim
I
1. ir tof the f'^ - id lr
ins way out of the forest, an. /aid down be.
side a log and slept till the next morning.—
Being refreshed by his sleep, he again 'went
forth with more buoyant hopes to find his
way home. But he was again doomed to
disarpointnient. and after strolling through
the woods all day was again compeidd to
make his bed upon the cold ground with no
cover but the blue sky. He had but just
laid himself down when an unexpected but
welcome visitor arrived to sham his bed and
keep him company. This strange visitor
Was a large Newfoundland dog, which staid
with the little fellow till Friday morning. A
short time after daybreak the dog showed
signs of great anxiety and uneasiness, and
started to leave young Lynch, but he had
enough foresight to follow the dog, and was
conducted by the faithful animal to the road
where he saw a man upon a wagon. Be
hailed the man, and after telling his adven
ture, was put into the wagon and brought
to his home. — The joy of his parents upon
is return can ,e 'etter imagined than de.
scribed. After searching for their boy in
every imaginable place where it was thought
he could be, without avail, they had about
given up . all hopes of finding him, and there
is a probability if it had not been for that
faithful Newfoundland dog, the child would
have starved to death or died of grief in the
lonesome forest. During the two days and
nights that be was lost he was without a
mouthful to eat, and his countenance show
ed plainly that he had indulged extensively
in tears.
Bow to cure Cancer
The Milwaukee Democrat states that some
eight months ago, Mr T. B. Mason, of that
city ascertained that he had a cancer on his
face the size of a pin. It was cut out by
Dr. Wolcott, and the wound partially heal
ed Subsequently it grew again, and while
he was at Cincionatti on business,. it attain
ed the size of a hickory nut. fie remained
there since Christmas under treatment, and
is now perfectly cured. The process is Life:
A piece of sticking plaster was put over the
cancer, with a circular piece cut out of the
center a little larger than the cancer so that
the cancer and a small circular rim of heal
thy skin next to it were exposed. Then a
plaaer mile, of chloride of zinc, blood root
and wheat flour, was spread on a piece of
muslin the size of this circular opening and
applied to the cancer for twenty-four hours,
Ou removing it, the cancer will be found
burnt into and appear of the color and hard
ness of an old shop sole, and the circular
rim outside of it will appear white and par
boiled, as if• scalded by hot steam. The
wound is now dreesed, and the outside rim
soon separates, and the cancer comes out in
a hard lump, and the place heals up. The
plaster kills the cancer, so that it sloughs out
like dead flesh, and never grows again. The
remedy was discovered by Dr. Fell, of Lon
don, and has been used by him fur six or
eight years, with unfailing success, and not
a ease has been known _or the reappearance
of the cancer when this remedy has been ap
plied.
FonciETruLNEss.—qleary, did you bring
that book down ?'
.N 1) sir, I forgot it.'
'Forgot it ! This is the third timo.• You
are indeed.a heedless boy, and if I had time
I would preach you a homily on forgetful.
peas. When a porson begins to forget, there's
no knowing Where ho will end. Why you
need not forget—and there's a better way to
romebber than to tie a string around your
finger, or put a piece-of paper in your hat.—
Place it upon your mind, my boy, and there's
no danger. Do you ever forget to eat ?
Never. When you are promised an excur
slot) of pleasure, do you over forget it.
Never. You engrave it on youturind.
it abomti be with every thing you wish to re
call. - Be determined to do whatever you are
told nod you will Dever COlllO to me with the
excuse, I forgot it. I dislike those words.—
Remember, boy, what I tell you, and be not
heedless in future. Thera, I have not time to
say more at present'
LAME PEST.—Some think that large feet
are uogenteel, but they are convenient for all
that: A person with large feet stands a bet.
to chance in a high wind than one of small
feet, as he is not so liable to overiet. Large
feet are also more convenient fur kicking ras
cals On the other hand, lap feet are in
conveuient on account of the expense of shoe
leather and stmckiug yarn. It •also takes
longer to wash large feet than small ones.
It is still soother advantage of largo feet
that it puts tho owner on'm `substuatial foist
ing in society !'—besides, there is safety An
broad fouudations everywhere.
Indulging io daugcrou2 pleasures is 1 Ice
licking hooey from u knife and gettiog out
with the 'edge.
It is curious fact that the MOM check a
mau has, the less he IA titles.
612.00 1 26 451 1 ; ' rear
NUMBER 42
A Yankee Boy.
A tourist tells the following story : WO=
recently met our friend, Dr. Lord, formerly
of Boston. He has been a resident of this
section for about six years. During his first
few years ho was extensively engaged in buy
ing wool, and ou ono occasion becoming ho•
wildered with the multiplicity of crooked
roads over the broad praries, he rode up to
a small cabin inclosed in a clump of locust
trees, and a White-headed boy perched on the
top of a ben coop, with :
'Halloo, boy _ _ _
'I reckon you're astranger,'
_was the re
sponse. -
'Look here, sonny.'
•
'I ain't your soapy.
• 'No, not my sonny, but if you will jump
down and . come here I'll give you a dime.'
Tho boy sprang as if alighted from a
wasp's ne,,t, :mid coming up to the- stranger
exclaimed -
'Will old hoes what is it?'
'l've 1 , st nay way and don't know where I
am Can }cog tell me 1'
'Yes, you're on your horse !'
Mr. Lord laughed at the boy's wit, and
handed him a dime The boy took the mon
ey, lookino• ' - upon it with mingled feelings of
wonder an d &light, and said :
reckon you must have a power of mon
ey!'
'Cause you slather it away so.'
'What's your father's name Y' inquired Mr.
Lord.
'Bill Jenks,' was the reply.
'Ah, yes, I know him,' exclaimed Mr.
Lord ; 'he grows wool don't he r
'No, -but his sheep does.'
'lf you knew me, imp lad, you would be
more respectful in your replies. I'm a friend
of your father; my name is Lord.'
Oh, yes! exclaimed the astonished lad,
'l've heard pap read about you in the Bible,'
and starting_for the house on a dead run, ho
ha led out at the to. of his tun •
'Mother, mother, the Lord is out here ca
horse-back, and has lost his way.'
Josn BILLINGS ON BED ])uos.—l never
see ennybody yot.but what despised bed bugs.
Tha ar the meanest ov awl crawling, hoppio,?
creepin,' or bitin' things.
Tha (lament tickle a man by (Lae, bat
sneak in after dark and thaw him while he is
asleep.
A musket° will fight you in brad dalite, at
sLort rouge, sod give you a chance to knock
at his sides—the flea is a game bola, and will
make a dash at you even in Broadway—but
the bed bug is a garroter, who waits til you
strip, and then picks out r mellow place to
eat you.
If I ivaz ever in the habit of swaring, I
would not hesitate to damn a bed bug rite to
biz face.
Bed bugs are oncommon smart in a small
way-zone pair of them will stock a hair mat
tress in two weeks with bugs enuff to last a
small family a whole year.
It dont do envy good to pray when bed
bugs are in season; the only way to get rid of
them is to bile up the whole bed in aquatortis
and then heave it away and buy a new one.
Bed bugs, when tha have grown aul tha
intend to, are about the size ova blue jay's-
- and have a brown complexion; when the
start out to garrote tha are as flat as a greese
spot, but when tha sit thru garroting are
swelled up like a blister.
It takes three days to git the swelling out
ov them.
If bed bugs have enny destiny to fi'l it
must be their stummuks, but it seems to bo
tha must have been made by acksident, just
ez shovers are, tcw stick into somebody.
If they wuz got up for some wiza purpose,
they must have took the wrong track, for
there kant be many wisdum in ehawiug a man
aul Bite long, and raising a family besides to
fuller the same trade
If there is some wisdom in aul this, I hope,
the bugs will chow them folks who can see
it, and lot sue be, because I am one of the
-heretiks.
The following will apply with force to al
most every '•well bred" town
WANTED hundred and seventy•five
- young men, more or 1e59, of all shapes and
sizes, from the tall graceful, with hair suffi
cient to stuff a barbar's cushion, down to, the
bow legged, freckled-faced, earret head
ed upstart. The olket is,,to form a gaping
corps, to be in attendance at the church
doors at the - close of divine service each Sab
bath. to stare at the 13dies. as they leave the
church, and to make delicate and gentlem.tu
ly remarks on their dress. Ail who wish to
enter into the 'above corps will appear on
the steps of • the various church doors on
next Sunday evening where they will be du•
ly inspected, their names, personal appmir - -
ance, and quantity of brains, registered in a
book kept for that purpose To prevent a
general rash, we will state that no 013 ;till
be enlisted who possesses intellectuil,capaci
ty above that of a well bred donkey.
THE SOCIETY Or WOMAN.—No society is
wore profitable, because none wore refining
and provueattve of virtua than that of a re
fined and senithls woman God enshrined
peculiar , 00duess in the (ovoid . woman that
her beauty might win, her gentle vt.i te lay 1 4 ,
and the desire to leave the path of siclul lite,
fur the ways of pleasantness and peace. but
when woman falls Iroin her 'bless eminence,
and sinks the guardian and cherisLer or pure
and rational enjoyments itao the vain co
quette and flittered idolater of idle fashi , •u,
she is unworthy of an honorable man's
or a sensible wan's admiration. lieauty in
then but, at least
A, protty plaything.,
Dear &tow.'
A little girl
, happoniog tc h n ar her mother
'Twitting of going iuto h%lt mutilating said
'Why aro we Koiug into half monroing,
wawa ; ore aoy ut uur relations half dead?'