.. . • ' * . . , 1, •a• . •••••'.W.44.• .... . • ..1 . • „ . .„ • ' . ..g., , . , , - , ' „ 1 • ' ''' .- ' ,-.- r , •.) ' • .... •*-- •• .M • : ~ .e• .; : • • • ' . ~ • . , .. ,;. • - ' „. .. ' ' ' - - ~...---, •-• ,-:, •'•'-'..• 0. --: ,,.0 ' ~,,, : I ••,.(_.) ..,' ~ , ', , .. ~,,,,,.., ', , , r . , , ( . , ~ . ..... ''.' ' "" •. 4 I *,,,1, •' .• . *''' " X.4.___k • Si s 1., 4 ,'" ' ' . :1 -- --- '. _..• _ D. , ~: in, • ...-• , . .. _.. ~ . , .. :—..' . . . . - , U t` ~ 0 ,14 • " ' .1- , , • _ • ~ • , - .;.• .. )1110k .. ' 11 11 i: , . , : _ . : . .., .q . 4. 1 .0 1 ,42,7 ,• 41 , ,. ., : jr) . • , • ~ %,.."4 4 -4.1"- -4 1,1 - ' - • ••••- •‘ • .. ' •:. - :!:Iffrc:'-:;•t.- . ; • ' _ Oft. 'imil . ,• . . , .., . . ''..,...*.1.':,:%-•?';',k•Tv.4.-I . , ~ x ..'.• • '••• - ..'..•-i , . .:..47 - ,tivt ~..- g ...i:- • • . . .. • .. .. , ,•• .: , ,-,. I : '• • ._ . • . .. k."....•.,..- _, 4 S 7 .VIT. VOLUME XXIII. 0 tul JUST THE THING WlllOl ALL MUST MI ,IVOW is the time to' economize when money is 1.1 scarce, You should study your interest by supplying ,Your wants at the fi rst class store of C. hi. BEAV ER. Northeast corner of the Diamond. direalusineas on the only successful method, viz: ,by'buyinst his goods for cash. The old fogy ilea of buying goods at high prices and en Ingo credits fs , EXPLODED. Call and examine our fine'stock and don't be RUINED 'by paying 20 per cent. too much for your goods else hero. We will chalenge Ihe community to show .forth a More complete stock of JIATS, alt of the very Isteststylesand to suitall, at C. N. BEAVER'S. .SOOTS, all kinds and prices, at C. N. BEAVER'S. SHOES, of every description fur Men's, Ladies', Missed' and Children's wear, at C. N. HEAVERS. tRUNKS,of all sizes. the very best manufacture, Also warranted. and sold by C. N. BAEVER. VALISES, of every kind, also very cheap. at • C. N. BRAVA'S. HATS, for Ladies. Misses and Children, a flesh s pply received every week and sold by C. N. BEAVER. Norloprs, atoll line as follows, sold by • C.N.BEAVER. P aPER COLLARS. for Men and—Boys—wear, ,the - most complete and ,Onest assortment in town, by C. N. BEAVER. HOSIERY, of every kind, for sale, by C. N. BEAVER. GLOVES, for Men and Boya wear, as C. N. BEAVER'S. SUSPENDERS, for Men end Bova wear, at V. N. BEAVER'S. CANES AND UMBRELLAS,a complete atbck at C. N. BEAVER'S. BROOMS AND BRUSHES, of the vet!, best „Rind; at • U R N. A.E V ER'S. TOBACCO, to suit the taste of all, -`at C. N. BEAVER'S. CIGARS, which 4 cannot - he heat, for sale. by-': • E. N. BEAVER. SNUPP, which we chalenge any one to excel in %nastily, for sale at C. N. BEAVER'S. INK and PA PER,,of everyheseription, at. ' U. N. BEAVER'S. CIVNDIES, always fresh too, for sale, at C. N. LIEstVER'S SPICES, for sal. at C. N. BEAVERIL':::I CRACRERS, efevery kind, - ,i4g. at • C. N. BEAVER ' A 1 INDIGO BLUE, 4,2, •:,1 at C. N. BEAVER'S.. 1 ,,,/ CONCENTRATED LYE, for sate. I , at C. N. BEAVER'S. 00 KEROSENE, of4he very test.—Pitta. 10. ::: at t ; I C. N. BEAVER'S; ,LAMP CHINI&TES also, at 4 C. N. BEAVER'S: And many other articles not•necessary:to mention. Wu now hope•that you will give us a share of your patronage, We are indeed, thankful to yottkir poet patronage, and hope a continuance of the carne, and remain °Nouns truly, :CLARENCE;N. BEACER. Waynesboro`, Jane 2, IMO. D. S. S RI I T i'l Has a complete atsortmeat of Ladies, Gentlemen% lttlsses' Children's BOOTS, SINES AND GIVERS. Call and sae ponds and get prices. THOMSON'S "GLOVE FITTING COR SETS, at Smyra'a. SCHOOL BOOKS and SCHOOL STATIONERY of all kinds at Town Hell Store. HATS AND CAPS, full stock now toady, consisting of all the latest styles, at p , • PAPER COLLARS, Tiee, Suspender, Gloves, everything in that lino, at SMITH'S. Town Hail Store. nov 3. Hardwara ! Hard Wake 1110 E -undersigned baring just returnsaltrann the .11. Eastern cities are prepared to sell Cutlery, Buil . ding Hardware; &c,, at extraordinary low ;stew.' eratring purchased for cash, they are enabled to offer inducements to enetqemits, for cash:: A full line iof Builders' and BlscismithelGoods always en hand., . • Thor are also:svents for the ehichntted Lemnos Xis* Tool Work.. New Jthis nuugulksoNs. % ClatmheyeLarit, Nov. 17—e.1870. • , -- • 110 More than building showy mansions, More than dress and, fine array ; ,torethan domes and lofty steeples, ' More than station, poem, and sway- Make home both neat and tasteful, • Bright and pleasant, always fair, Where each heart shall rest contented, Grateful for each beauty there, There each heart will rest contented,. Seldom Wishing far to roam ; Or, if rooming, still will ever , .Cherish happy thoughts of home. Such a home makes men the• better, • Sure and lasting the control ; Home with pare and bright surroundings, , Leaves its impress on the soul. C. N. DEA VER The sun had almost lett the eastern_witt, dow of .Mrs. Grey's kitchen as she eat oa a low seat, with a willow basket on the floor beside her, patiently assorting a huge pile of carpet rage, and putting the pieces of red, yellow, blue and black in separate heaps, ready to be tied up in bundles. On the floor sat the two-year old baby, watching the pro eeediogs with great interest, and sometimes working away as busily as mamma herself, but whose tiny fingers were, unfortunately; more of a hindrance than a help. Over the fire the kettle and dinner•pot were boiling briskly' while from the even a savory odor is sued forth of the good things within. As the forenoon waned, lire. Grey glanced anxiously et the dock, from time to time, but kept steadily at work, overseeing the cook ing of the dinner at the same titne. A look 'of satisfaction rested on her couotenanoe as the great pile of rags gradually diminished ifil - size and finally disappeared, end the pie ces of different colors were all ready to be tied - up and put away. 'Just a quarter to twelve,' she said to her self. shall have time to pat these away, set the table, and have dinner precisely at twelve.' .-,This fad been a busy forenoon with Mrs. - Sleep. She had risen earlier than usual, had 4300t/sled her household duties with more g:usual dispatch, and by a good deal of .calculation bad gained an hour for this tk. As every moment counts where the iterk of a family is to bo dane by one pair of 'eads, she thought that a little eau& effort in making a carpet would save a vast deal of time now spent in serubbieg and cleaning, and then too, the room would look so much more tasteful and pleasant.. So it was with meet satisfaction that she looked upon her morning's work, as beiog the first step to• ward such 'a desirable end. But just as she rose' from her seat she looked out of . the window and saw . her hus band coming up the path to the house., 'O, dear; said she, 'Henry has come, and dinner is not ready. Whet shall Ido ?' Now, to most wives the coming of the bus baud a low moments before dinner is not a matter of Bach fearful import 'as to cause a disarrangement of the whole household coon my, bat Mr. Grey always expected dinner to be ready at the moment of his coming, whether before or after the usual hour, and hii wife, who was &timid woman, stood great- . 44 in awe of her ltuebaud, and deemed it the most awful thing in the world . in any way to cross his wishes anti thus offend him. . . 'I So she honied to the stove, lifted the heavy dinner-pots, somewhat (thanked their places that they might boil faster, snd gave the firs a vigorous stirring, :hich, by the way, was all unnecessary, for • the fire was burning before just as brilt h tly s uit could, and the dingier was alreitly cooked ; then hastily brushing the earpot-rags all .up to gether, she rammed them into the basket, and rushed with it into the bed room. Lit tle Annie playfully caught hold of her dress as she passed, and her mother 'being in too great hurry to notice her she was dragged a• long a step and fell over backward, hitting her head against a chair. Now followed a scene of confusion. Ha• by's loud screams mingled with the mothers's exclamations of pity and regret as she vain. ly tried to soothe her, and in the midst of it all Bit. Grey came in with a frown •on his brow, and in a stern tone said,''W bat is all this ? 'Why isn't dinoer ready ?' • • !It is altready, Henry; you shail* hare 'it just as' soon as I can take it up. But see now Annie has hurt herself' 'Never mind her •; she'll soon get over cry ivg. lamin a hurry. It seed's tome I riev. er have my meals when I want Meth. yes, rimy, sometimes you dd;fer yeti terday I waited a full hour for yaw; but.it isn't quite twelve yet; I didn't expest you before twelve.' . • • `The clock is too slow, 1 know,' . said he, going to it and moving the bands. 'there, now it in twelve.' • • Mrs. Grey made no reply. to.tietiliately putting Annie, who was , still sobbing and crying, &pa to a chair, turned aim acid commenced taking np the dinner. .In slew moninorivatte called her husband to the tattle, and, with the child again in her einisoat . d o wn to ppuelnutthe coff:S. SMIT a's. WA INESBORO', 3PCIXEMXCJAA.Ma. _. . . .'' 44 %.,,,,: 4 lige . :-, ,--- , ...„/ / ' T„ a ) ~, 4 ‘ . , ' 7 - 1 7- 7 .1?: . :; - 74 , ,- i "_ '''. ' .':H',-- f- rg'-'4'....e". , 04',/;`,:_ 5 , ,.___f' ,1 ?.. 7 .: • ' , .,2 , :ii..::"`‘' • k.,_.:_u•-j, L A', '' "":'•''' '-,-,:,,,': s .. :-'......,, IMRE 1101111 11APPL" Beek to make your home most lovely, Let it be a smiling spot W here, in sweet contentment resting, Care and sorrow are forgot. Where the flowers and trees aro waving, Birds will sing th lir sweetest sing ; Where the purest thoughts will linger, Confidence and love belong. li — tS* l l- - -:_flo) ph dIV=-111c10 tx . JILAs .. IW . • 4123. Xl2.ClerOC)3lll4l.e.n.t . F l aana.ll37 I%Terwiermit•Oxi. FRANKLIN PUNTI, PENNSYLVANIA, THURSDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 9, 1871. Mr Grey's stern features ieliied a little as he looked over the table. hlverything was just right, and had evidently been cooked with a view to pleasing his own particular appetite. The roast beef was juicy and ten der, the potatoes white and mealy, the fra. grant coffee, light, spongy braad and golden butter could not well be improved, while his favorite apple•puddiog had turs)cd oaf a per fect success. A good dinner naturally puts one in a good humor with one's self and the wotld generally; thus it was with Mr Grey. -He was disposed to be quite social and com municative, and to chat about the little af. fairs that had taken place during the fore noon.• But not so with the weary wife. The eon eciousnetts that fear of her husband, bad caus ed her to undo ha a moment the toilsome work of the last hoar, the uncomfortable reflection that one idea was uppermost io all our do. mastic arrangements. and that idea the grat ification of alt hie whims at•the expense of everything besides, roused up rather rebel. lions feelings fur the time, while the nervous excitement she had felt for the hat half hour caused a violent headache, which disinclined her to talk much. lienry,.being unable to sustain the • cow vereation alone, hastily finished hie mearand hurried off to work, thinking all the way how dull and commonplace Mary had become, and wondering what had changed the bright eyed, light-hearted girl he bad wooed and won three years before, into au& a sober. mopish woman. Them he 'settled it in hie mind shot it was the way with all married people. Of course their cares would make them grave and - a - edata. llutjust - then — hirr • II 11 1 1 _ - - ris, an intimate friend of his wife, who was married about the same time they were. She looked not a whit older or sadder than on her wedding-day, and seemed to enjoy life just as well as in her girlhood. It was strange; did he not provide bountifully for his fami ly ? Was not their every need supplied could not" understand why it was, and it nut being a very pleasant subject .on which to reflect, be put it out of his mind. Airs. Grey still sat by the table With a weary, desponding look on her countenance that would pain yotrto *how. The tide of angry feelings bad rolled away, and now the poor, tired heart ached for sympathy; for a word, a look of' tenderness and love; and un- . ,bided tears streamed down her cheeks. Long, long she sobbed, but gradually the intensity of her teenage, wore away, and she became calmer. Then her woman's heart pleaded for her husband, and 'sbe 'Henry is not ea considerate as some, but he doesn't' mean to be unkind,' and elle tried to forget self in the absorbing interest in whet she felt to be _her life-work; but still the little ineidint of the day, -trifling though it seemed, was help ing, with many others, to steal the bloom from her cheek, the lustre from her eye, iod the joy from ber-heart. Ab, husband. it is not the great, heart orushingeorrows that imbitter Me so much as the little, selfish exactions, the petty un• kindness, the thoughtless nelfect; and the "small, sweet courtesies' of life are far' more potent in Astir met to smooth ' the rough. ness of the nay, than all the wealth of tht Indies unaccompanied by thin. Live Wyruni ,Yourt MEANS.-- We don't like stinginess. We don't like economy, when it comes down to rags and starvation, Wo have no sympathy with the notion that a pocr man should hitch himself fast to a post, and stand still,.while the rest of the world moves forwards. It is no wan's duty to deny himself every amusement, every re. creation, every comfort, that be may get rich. It is no RI duCy to make an iceberg of hiiuself, to shut his eyes and ears to the suf foriogs of his fellows, and deny himself the eojoyment that results from generous actions, no rely that ho -may hoard wealth fur his hors to quarrel about. tut there is en e• conomy which is every man's duty, and which is especially commendable in the man who struggles with poverty—an economy which is consistent with, happiness, and which Must be prsetieedAf the poor man would secure indepectdimeo. It is almost every man's privilege, , stid if becomes his duty to live within his means—not up to them, but within them. Wealth does not make the man, we admit, and should never be taken into account in our judgment of man, but eempetenoo bbould always be se. cured, weep Jtzean be, by the practice of e• tummy 'and self-denial to only a tolerable ex.. tent. 'lt should be secured, not so much for others to lookipoo, or raise us in the estimation of utherkas to secure the melees nese of independence; and the constant Batis ta-oin which' is de - lived frets, its acquirenient and possession,,... fl uZirnors.—Which will you do, smile and make others happy, or ha crabbed and make everybody Around you miserable ? Yon can - live among flowers and singing birds ,or in the mire surrounded by fogs and frogs. The amount of happiness which you can Traduce is incalculable, if you will only show a smiling face, alind heart\ and pleas ant word S.. On the other haod,l by . soar looks, cross words, nod fretful disposition you eau, make other's unhappy silliest before endurance. Which will yen do 1 Vest a pleasant oonntonanoa—let joy and foie beam in your eye ? There Is no' joy no. great as :that which-springs from a kind (luring the'day "whereby Bathe fellow 'inertia - has been made happy, yen feel its' gl(ktious iollneaceitt slight when you rest, the)Pazt, morning' when you rise and throtg4tititho day when about yourdaily hosinass,..•. • 4'00130 Rapide, - lowa,loati, a . poeiret , haek oonteiaiog about thiny'deliate. It win found by neighbor to whom be mint a note telling him to keep `abet he tbogght, vita right,' • oaaoe9aot of finding it,anci read .Min;the,:test ! .. , The finder returned, fire;dol-' AXarriing to the to*ii, Henry Welcome, the boy ciaufddrer, . the day before hie Ozeoutiowat Windsor, Ts.; wrote the-folloWlog ADDRESH TO YOUNG MEN : MY DEAR YOUNG . FRIENDS :-With re spot Henry Welcome takes this as a last gift, from God that I should give you semi inci dents of my life, hoping they will Wargo' you. A l low me to thank all for the kind ism minifeeted towards me, unhappy pris oner ; and it is out of respect to you that think it my duty to write this sketch. I have six sisters and tour brother, and WA the only bad sinner among them. *ln v; Sabbath school, and my father ned mother ate members of a Methodist chunk at Hines burg. When I was sixteen years of age I left my happy home and went to visit a sis ter in Stowe. WhCeti returned I was bound to leave home, but my parents wished me to stay at [twee and go to - school. 1 would net mind them, but went to Boston. I got an excellent situation, but fell in with bad_oo , - pan, going to a billiard hall, and learning al so the use of liquor, 1 wee persuaded to try my hand at 'seven up' At fitit I refused but being unchecked by some influenees and exposed to all the desires of my eorrupt heart, I gambled and plunged into all kinds of edam. The story of my transgression and sine would fill a large volume. Finally, af... ter one of my times, I !tent to Ilinesburg the last of October, MS but my friend, if I had listened to my mother's pleading voice, what a happy young man I should have been to day ; and oh ! my friends, how many heart _rerillngreartest-prayers -has-my-kind-moth ' er offered tethe Throne of Grace for mercy to me. ,s never up , Tait e. me, la e rove to restrain me by kindness, urging me to ab- stain from the sins I was committing daily. This was Thursday, my mother gave this advice, and I went from her arms with a kiss on my lips, plunging into all sorts of crime and sin, and on Saturday of the same week eqininitted the orime, so great, that it will leairi a stain on the land forever, and when committed broke the heart of my mother and hung millstones around the necks of my friends, and robbed them of all joy and cont• fort on earth, And only think, I, Henry Welooine at the age of 19 years, placed in this horrible situation ! To—morrow, I shall stiffer the sentence of death. I think, my friends, this is a held lot for a young man to be' stilt hue tbe'pres ems of his Maker on the gallows, but 1- ski to giVe wily life for the life 1 have taken. Par don loamy . friends, for saying so much to you. My heart is full mid my words for you are a warning that you may not come to the same sad end. But tears will avail nothing fur me now. May the blood of Christ wash away my crime! This is my 'last and only hope. HENRY WELCOME. GLEANINGS.—Take your standard of a man from his wind , and not his dreg s. Aot uprightly and fearlessly, and you may defy the devil and all his works. ' Lot the bent of thy thoughts be to mead thyself, rather than the world. Many have been victorious in great temp tations, and ruined by little ones. Life becomes useless and insipid when we have no!looger either friends or enemies. If the best wan's faults were written on his forehead, it would make him pull his hat over his eves. Innocence is a flower which withers when touched, but blooms not again, thougliwash cd by tears. The repentenee that is delayed until old age, is but too often a regret fur the inabili ty to commit more Mos. Tale. bearers and ta!o•hearers are alike guilty ; the one both the devil in hie tongue, the other in his ear• Dare to change your mind s confess your error, awl alter your conduct, when you are convinced you are wrong. Ile that thinks himself the happiest man really is so , but he that thinks himself the wisest is generally the greatest fool. • Sclf•lovo is at once the most delicate and the most tenacious of our sentiments; a mere breath mill wound it, but nothing on earth can kill it. The swell stones which fill up the crovi• oes, have almost as much to do with making the fair and firm wall as the great rooks, so the right nod wise use if spare 111013300 i con• tributes not a little to the building up, in good proportion with strength, a manta mind. A BrainTtsur. Tsountry—We know not the author of the following, but it is one of the most beautiful productions we ever read: —'Nature, will be reported. All things are engaged in writing their own history. The plant and pebble go attended by their own shadow. The rock leaves its scratches on the mountain side, the river its bed •in the soil; the animal leaves bone is the..strature, the faro and ale leaf their modest epitaph in the coal. The falling drop makes its epitaph in the stied , orstone; DOE' a' footstep in the snow 'or along the ground but prints in char.. :totem more er lose lastinge map of its march; every act of man inaeribes itself on the mem ories of its followers and in hie'own The air is lull of sound; the ground is all memoranda signatures; and every - object in covered over with hints which speak to the A gentlemen whose custom it was to en tertain very often a circle of friends, obierv• ed, that one of them SVIII in the babit,of .eat ing something before grate• was asked, and. determined twainhim Upon tha,repoti rico of the offence. he said: 'roe what we are about to Tactile, and for what :James Tiylor has abroad received, the Lord wake as truly thankful!, At the late Women's Right Coniention, a resolution was reported tied laid . over for the next' meetiag, that ifjosticik • was not fully done to the ladies, atid soon:then, that' they i.vtoWstop the popzOatins of tifo country ! noRRont.OF WAR. GILASDLY SCENES' ON 'IRE LOIRE. From the London Tinter, December 29.1 As the war is prolonged Hi horrtwa ins crease. The litter winter under which , We are shivering io this country would elm ie valve a terrible aggravation of 'Misery. In this respect it is lung Glace bush sufferings have beer inflicted, evea in war. But such horrible seenea.as 'viers described by 'A Mil itary Correspondent' are but too probable :in such operations as the Army of the Loire Las lately been engaged in, and it is to be feared 11.1' .1 : , , • in the course of the present month. That army has been executing a continuous 'stra tegic movement' of retreat; and fighting al most Continuous battles during some of the severest weather of the. month, Both armies have been strained to the uttermost, and hive had no time to look behind them. The horrible consequences has been that the -wounded-have-practically-bier,-left as un eared for as the dead. They have in some instances been gathered off.the field of battle, though there mast be numbers who have been left-to perish of void on the spot where they fell. But . ever when carried under shelter they have simply been beeped togeth er in uninhabited houses, and have , some times lain there for days unattended, unfed, and aimed uncovered. The scene at Being ,enny, described by Military Commend fant,' is one even more horrible, bemuse, a more prolonged scene of agony. In a house which had ones been a Pension de Jenne* • Fills., 'every room from collar to roof was crowded with dead and etarvin men I:in so thick it was impossible to move among them. , It was Saturday, and many of them had been there sines the Wednesday, some since the Tuesday. All that time 'not one drop of water, not one atom offood, had pees• ed their lips,' nor had any comforting hied approached thorn. If a broken legged ear geant bad been able to throw his own eoat over his more severely wounded officer that was the utmost relief any of theehad obtain ed. Moreover, the windows of the houses were all broken, 'and all- these days and - flights of almost Aretio cold they had been lying on the bare floor with their wounds undressed.' All the agodlea of wounds, et cold, of hunger, and thirst, with all the hor- rors of death, *ere endured for day. togeth• et by these helpless sufferers. The battle, in fact, had been raging for three days a round &avouch neither side gaining such until/Robed poesession of the town as to be able to think of the wounded. Even an deigned dily,German shells buret in . hoe pitals where French volunteers were tend. lug German wounded. That night there was only ono dootor hi the team capable of per• forming amputations, led there were 200' desperately wounded into in one building alone 'The dead lay thick among the dy ing, and as the !Omer were dragged out their places were instantly filled.' Miserable ob. jots, with broken jaws or faces half shot a way, wandered about poiotios to their dread• ful woods and making piteous signals for water, which it was impossible for them to swallow. Officers and men, veterans and boys, all lay in one undilitingaishable mass of misery. Every moan that the bumao voiee can utter rose from that heap of agony.'— This' was on Thursday. How many more scenAS like the one we here just described might there have been seen in Beaugenoy .on Saturday? And how many mere is the numerous villages over which the storm of mallet. has passed between Beaugonejr s ad Yeadotild The Poor Customer. I flow much better ?' • 'Ono half pound if, if you please! 'And sugar ?' 'Hutt a pound: 'And those oranges ?' • Half a dose:), sir.' 'You go Isy the halves to.dey ; well, what else? ltd speedy, ma'am, you're keeping better customers waiting.' gllalf a peek of Indian meal and one fine French roll,' said the woman; but her lip quivered, and she tinned to wipe` away a trickling tear. , I looked at her straw bonnet, all broken, at her faded shawl, her shin stooping form her course garments, and I read poverty on them all—extreme poverty. And the pal lid pinched features, the mournful, but once beautiful face, told tee that the luxuries were not for her.' An invalid looked out from his window whose pale tsps longed for a cool 'hits orange for whose comfort the tea and the butter, and the floe French roll were bought .with much neap.. Arai OW him sip she tea, and test the dainty bread; and praise the flavor of the sweet butter, and the fine French roll, and turn with brightening eye to the golden fruit. And I heard him ask her, kneeling at the smoky hearth, to taste them with him. And as she set the broken pan on the edge to bake her course - ,leaf, I beard her say : 'By.aa&.by, Whsh ' am hungry.' Aed , by atid_by,' wheelie ,White lids of the sufferer were closed . is sleep, I saw her bend oxe r him with a' blessing in her heart. , And she laid' the remnant of 'the, feast careftilly; arid ate her bread iiismoistened. I started from my reverie; the grocer's hard eye was upon so. 'You are keeping'better customers *sit. log. - Oh, how I longed to tell his hew 'pover ty and persecution, contempt and sena, could not slim the heart's tine gold, purified by 'many a trial, and that woman,'with her little sacrifies, was better in the si ght of God than 'many a trumpet-tongued Dives, who gave that he might be known of men. 47ofored lady, beitig of the mune of her sae in etithmo said : 4 114 is :he mottirteatioe 101 GM& Wards'of Wisdom. To be a sserebant, the oft consists inerap in go*g`paid thso.titsking sales. Neier desire bumble servieen when large ships run aground fiule boats way pun thew off. Good company and goal conversation are the vary sinews of a happy and virtuous' hi©. Destitution h better than dependence, Pipe° it is, perhaps, easier to endure the cold.than to dud one's patron so. -We don't like to show ingratitude. Their is soniathiu : in it abar er than a •aer.ent'a toot,. Habit too often does away with adailra. tion, 'and we loge appreciation through knowl; edge. It is of little motosat to restrain by ponalties, unless you make thom.honeet men by , discipline. ' If certain people bad to'wo►k as hard:foe their daily bread al tbey do for their moot vents, they would Surely starve. Value the friendship of him who lends by you in the storm; swarms of parasites r►ill eurrouhd you ha the sunshine. Ile who refuses to do justice to the de- fenceless will,often be found making wares satiable concessious to the powerful. We should do bur ultimo to ocourage the bealitiful, for the useful encourages i; self. Re who calls in the aid of equal under aim/ding, doubles his own; and ho who by a superior understaeding, raises bis powers to a level with the height of the au- Nothing is so contagious as enthusitun; it is the real allegory of the tale of Orpheds; it. moves stools, it charms brume. Rath usiaina is the genius of sincerity, and Truth Boman pliehes no viotories without it. With a double Vigilance should W - ;ff'irateh our acti6o, whoa' we reflect that bad and 8004 . 0001 WO never' hildless; and that, in both ones, the offspring goes beyond the pereat—every good begatuog a; better, ev=- ery bad worse. It is cheap, sod easy to destroy. Their is not a joyful boy or an isnocent girl buoy ant with fine purposes of duty, in all the streets full of eager and rosy faces, but a oynie can chill sod disheartenwith a single word. Despondency 'COMAS readily enough to the most sanguine. The way to wealth is as plain as the way to market ;it depends strictly on two words —industry and frugality; that is, waste nei ther time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without industry and frugality nothing will do, but with them everythiog.. When you are disposed to be vain of your mental sequirements, look up to those who are more accomplished than yourself, that you ■ay be fired with emulation; but when you feel dissatisfied with year circumstances, look down on Shoes beneath you, that you may learn coateatment. It lie a good practice to read with pen in band, marking what is liked or doubted. It rivets the attention, realises the greatest a mount of enjoyment, and facilitates refer epee. It enables the reader also, from time to time, to see what progress be makes with his own mind. Who shall we say in gratitude to the mei who remove from thoueauds and teas of thousands of eyes-that worst of all Elms—lg. soma f who lay open to our sight a world as new to us as it it had been just orested,, or as if h had been bora blind and now for the frst tims saw. Language is the amber is which a thou sand probing and subtle thoughts have been -safely embedded and preserved.. It has arrest ed ten thousand lightning gashee of genius, which unless lived Ind arrested, might have, boon as bright, but would have also been as• quicklj passing sad perishing as the light sing. Whet a beautiful description of the wed ding of civilization to nature is the following taken from the eloquent speech of Hon. Thomas Fitob : • .'Here was a mighty continent, unknowci to civilized man for nearly 15 centuries af• for Christ ,130030 upon the earth ; with its, rich darer of forest, and field, and nine it walted4roNh all long ages, in virgin aim phsity, thawcioo - ~.(40h of the ruling races. of earth.' They; from the other shore, and eiviliziticar •...radded to a bride whose* nuptial veil Vias,thl lace. of tailing- waters„ tame jewels were 'stars, which gleamed , from a crimson and purple setting of north.' ern lights, and whcee opulent garments. swept away from a corsage of eternal snows to golden sandals of eternal summers Two young ladies and an Irishman were conversing on age, when one of them put the florae question : !Which of ne do pia thick is the older, Mr.-s.7' 'Snier taped the gallant Ilibernian,lyou both look ioung. , , er than each other. • A wealthy bachelor marriekoffland, beautiful ,youog lady whom he :oblught to iipeetiog 'cook stoves at the faii: Sine& then, yon met get within forty rodtr . of the stove department, for the crowd • of,Aetty girls. 'it's forty yeare,:my old friend .T.Obri, since we were boys together.' 'kit ?—well, don't speak.no loud,: there's that young widow tu the next room.' A littivgiti tom heaid to 'tali de Otte+ . day, 'that she. was a boy eo that she ponlit swear when she dro p ped her boots US sbe wind?' ~..---- . •iv . „ . Oigars are mow made by 13 &Oise/rm. What a'capital thing it would bit if:tkV, . . Tent all sta7kad by assettisory taw.: - ,.: -- ."-- • NrmBER g 4