= a 41. et --rczyprietor.
VOL. NINE.
PI7BLISELED wEEziAr
AT ONE DOLLAR A YEA
I=l
OPVICE on Front Street, a few doors eas
of Mrs. Flury , s Hotel, Marietta, Lancas
ter County, Pennsylvania.
TERMS, One Dollar a year, payable in ad
vance, and if subscriptions be not paid within
six months $1.25 will be charged, but if de
layed until the expiration of the year, $1.50
wilt be charged.
No subscription received for a less period
than six months, and no paper will be discon
tinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at
the option of the publisher. A failure to noti
fy a discontinuance at the expiration of the
term subscribed for, will be considered a new
engagement.
ADVERTIMIC RATES One square (12
[fines, or lees) 50 cents fot the first insertion and
25 cents for each subsequent insertion. Pro
fessional and Business cards, of six lines or less
.M $3 per annuls. Notices in the reading col
umns,fine cents Marnagesand Deaths,
the simple announcement, FREE; but for any
additional lines, five cents a line.
A tiberal deduction made to yearly awl half
yearly advertisers.
JOB PRINTINA of every description neatly
and expeditiously. executed, and at prices to
dint the times.
HIT I LOVE.
i love to see the days of youth
With garlands bright entwined,
And thoughts of Peace, and Love and Truth
In tht, young heart enshrined;
For, oh 1 if we in early hours
Are led in Virtue's way,
'Twill strew our path with fragrant ilow'rs
In manhood's sterner day.
'Twill calm d.rabition's raging fire,
That oft would lead =tray,
And learn us, if we Would aspire,
To tread- no evil way ;
'Twill whisper "Patience l" in our ear
Wheu in angry mood,
And lead us On in hope or fear,
To bow before our God.
'Twill teach us in the hour of aced,
When is desk and drear,
That Vireno.itli "friend indeed"—
An gnu.: hoy'ring near ;
AM when ifright Hope for us is o'er,
And sorrows round us come,
'Twill point to that eternal shore
Away beyond the tomb.
TIIE SOLDIER,
In dreams he sits beside the hearth,
Afar from camps and traitor's wiles,
And deems the dearest spot on earth
Where loving:wife and mother smiles ;
And many a face almost forgot,
And many a word so fondly spoken,
Como dating around the soldier's cot,
Till the sweet dream at morn is broken
0, ye who Jove the soldier well—
Bid him be hopeful, brave and gity ;
Better he 'knows than you can tolt,
The perils that attend his way.
olue word of hope in battle's hour,
While striving with a vengeful foe,
Ilas nerved the soldier's arm with power,
To strike or ward the impending blow.
The soldier bravo is often ;none
To deem himself forgotten quite,
A wanderer- on• earth alone,
When friends at home neglect to write.
Then cheer him - oft with words like these,
And thus your deep affection prove ;
Let every keel that ploughs the seas
Bear htm some message full of love.
Car My dear, said an anxious father
to a bashful daughter, "1 intend that
you shall be married, but I do not in
tend that you shall throw yourself away
to any of the wild, worthless boys of
the present, duy. You must marry a
man of sober and mature age ; ode that
can charm you with wisdom and good
advice, rather than with personal at
traction. What would you think of a
Boa -intelligent, mature husband of fif
ty ? The timid, meek, blue-eyed little
daughter looked in the man's face, and
with the slightest possible touch of in
terest in her voice, answered.
"I think two of twenty-five would be
better, papa."
e ar The Rev. 11. At Stern, an Abys
sinian missionary writes : "Fond as the
Abyssinian women are of embroidered
garments and• other fineries, it is strange
that they should never try to gain even a
slight acquaintance with the use of the
needle. High and low alike depend
upon their male friends for every stitch
in their dress. Tastes, of course, vary
in different countries ; but I confess
that it always provoked me to see a tall
bearded fellow, acting the dressmaker,
and a slender girl performing the func
tions of the groom."
air The individual who tried to clear
his conscience with an egg, is now en
deayoring to raise his spirits with yeast.
If he fails in this it his delibrate inten-
tion to blow out hts brains with a bel
lows, and sink 4almly into the arms:of—
a young lady.
Tom Hood speaks of a bird buil
ding its nest upon a ledge over the door
of a doctor's Orme, as an attempt to
rear its young in the very jaws of death.
11;e worst feature in a man's face
ie hikoose—whee, stook hito 'other peee
pt is iisiness.
11,,u afgreptiMut tansglinutia ournal to to Valium literature, Agritutturt, Reba tie Pap, Yon! ainttiligna,
BETWEEN TWO STOOLS.
The June roses lifted their crimson
faces against the -window-sill, and the
odor of miguionette and southern-wood
sailed in on the evening breeze, and
filled the room where Mr. John Dud.
ley stood making a gorgeous and
elaborate toilet. It was a remarkably
good-lookiug face that beamed back out
of the mirror on Mr. Dudley, and noth
ing could have been more tastefully im.
maculate than the white satin gloss of
_his shirt-bosom and collar, the faultless
tie of his blue cravat, the exquisite • fit
of his black velvet vest, .ditto, dress
coat, ditto, peg to sit-down-upons.
Mr. Dudley was quite aware of all
these little personal advantages, unusual
as it is for a gentlemen, and brushed
up his dark hair, adjusted his wristbands
left three-eights of the northwest corner
of his white handkerchief sticking out
of his pocket, drew on his gloves, took
his hat, and sailed forth to victory or
(death.
The sun was just sinking as Mr. Dud
'y strolled down the winding country
ranee, with tall old trees twining their
green arms overhead, and, birds singing
their vesper hymns in the fragrant
branches. The fields, right and left,
were liktvgreat emeralds sown all over
with scarlet stars, and the voices of
children floated pleasantly through them
as they gathered, in tin pail; the same
scarlet stars (in plain English strawber
ries). The quiet laces were burdened
with buttercups, marguerities, white and
crimson clover, and ; the sky
overhi3ad was of that briliant blue
known as ultramarine, with waves and
billows cf fleecy white, and the solemn,
beautiful evening star glancing and
gleaming right overhead. But Mr. Dud
ley was thinking of other things than
birds and buttercups, stare an d
strawberries, and walked away with a
serious, to say solemn expression of
countenance, not paying any attention
to any of them. Truth to tell, Mr. Dud
ley was - about to perpetrate an act, that
evening, which has made heroes blanch,
philosophers tremble, and kings go'on
their bended knees before now ; in short
"not to put too fine a point on it"—pop
the question.
Mr. John Dudley was in love; noth
ing very startling or unusual for a young
man of five-and twenty ; but Mr. D's case
had this trifling peculiarity he was
hopelessly and helplessly in love with
two ladies at once, and, to save his neck
from the halter, he could not have told
on which he splashed most of his affec
tions. Once, when nearly frantic with
the distracting question, he had written
to the editor of the paper containing
"answers to correspondents"—a sphinx
who-read the hardest riddles as easy as
A B 0, and who informed onr young
friend in his next issue, that his private
opinion was, that the questioner- was
neither more nor less than a fool; that it
did not make the least difference which
ho proposed to, as he would probably
receive a polite "No" from both. This
severe mental rap on the head had ex
asperated Mr. Dudley to that degree
that he twined both Lands in his ebon
locks, and tore out two fistaful by the
roots the moment he read it. But, as
all earthly anguish passes away, so did
this, and Mr. Dudley was as far from
the point as ever. In the morning, when
he rode out with . Louise on horse-back,
and she came stepping in her jaunty
way down to the gate, her long purple
skirt falling regally around hertall, fine
figure ; her black cloth basque Siting
the tapering waist to perfection ; the
black velvet riding-cap • with its `purple
plume set coquettishly on the shining,
black braids ; the dark faccrilaughing
and bright ; the black eyes spirited. and
flashing—Mr. Dudley thought he loved
Louise then.
When they went galloping at break
neck speed over hill and dale, and Shore
and she took hedges, and ditches and
ravines, with shout and cheer, Mr. Dud
ley thought he loved Louise then.—
When they met in the evenings at balls
and parties, and the enchanting strains
of the waltz-music - floated out of the
night air, and she spun"around the room
in his arms, her rich stain robe rust
ling the splendid head half lying on
his shoulder, her red lips parted and
panting, her dark, tropical eyes uplifted,
half tenderly, half mirthfully—Mr. Dud
ley thought he loved Louise then. But
when the flowers were asleep in the
bright, solemn moonlight, and the stars
shone down on the birds nestling' and
twittering softly in the green heart of
the woods, and he strolled through the
silent fields And 1an444 with Amy, her
rile-bine dress a long ter curls
(I ke_:7lW\•.-....-at',...,:ttalt:+.
MARIETTA, PA., SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1863.
tering In the cool night wind, the violet
eyes brighter and clearer than the stars
they were upraised to, the low voice
sweeter than the nightingale's chanting
his evening serenade beside them, and
the pure pale faco looking dreamy and
lovely—Mr. Dudley thought he loved
Amy. When she sat at the piano in
the still summer gleaming, and sang
softly song.after song, and he stood look
ing down on the little drooping face,
and pearlwhite hands wandering rest
lessly among the keys—Mr. Dudley lov
ed Amy then. In shoA, Mr. Dudley
was like a butterfly in a rose garden, so
intoxicated with sweets that he didn't
know which to choose, and had there
been 'only one, he would have rested per
fectly happy ; but he now kept hopping
backward and forward, unable to find
rest anywhere. This aggravating state
of things had continued about six
months, and might have -continued for
six longer, had not other gentleman,
less fickle, began paying attention to
the two ladies, and the sighing swan
saw that he must select one or other
soon, or go without altogether. It was
not to be•expected, much as they, doubt-
Tesi-loved him, that they would wait for
him forever ; -on this particular evening
Mr. Dudley was about to make one of
them liappy by laying his heart and
hand handsomely at her feet. Even at this
juncture, he had not decided which ono
it to be ; but as they were both going
to be at Mrs. Hewitt's party, whither
he was going, he resolved to leave it to
chance and the prompting of his good
angel. If either one by any chance
were absent, he would ask the other, if
either one happened by any chance. to
look prettier or better dressed, he would
ask her, and having arrived at this sat
isfactory and mind-ceasing• conclusion,
Mr. Dudley lit a cigar, stuck his hands
in hie pantaloon pockets, and went on
his way rejoicing. •
One long, scarlet glance of the dying
sunlight pierced the giay- gleaming,, and
tipped the windows of Mrs. ffewitt's
drawing-room with dazzlibg `gilding, as
be came in sight of that low, rambling,
old farm :house. He saw the long; wide
garden, hot with roses and peonies ; he
saw the azure arch of morning glorieS
over the gate ; and, standirig under it,
he saw something else too. Two figures
—one tall and stately as a princess of
the blood-royal ; one small' and slight
as a fairy sprite. The tall one fleeting
in a sort of-cloud of crinoline and gos
samer; very low-necked,;.very short
sleeved ; the gleam of a gold bracelet
on one rounded arm ; the glitter of a
dainty c'nain twining round a large bon
gust of jasmine, holding together: the
corsage ; the shining black hair turned
coronet fashion, braid after braid, black
and glancing round a superb head ; gold
beads twisted and gleaming in and out ;
an odor of rose-water and pastile about
her, all gold and jet, all fire and sparkle.
The other, in a. full, waving skirt of mis
ty-white muslin ; a crimson Zouave jack
et ; a shower of golden curls falling be
low her waist, and wreathed with creamy
roses ; the violet eyes shining ; the del
icate cheeks flushed; the lovely hands
ringless--she looked like• the young,
May-moon in a silver lining:
"Oh I" cried Mr. Dudley, mentally,
and in a state of rising distraction, "why
could not one or the other have stayed
away ? There they-are—beautiful as
angels, both. of them ; dressed to per
fection;:both of 'em dying for me, and
I—l must choose to-night 1 W, ell Al
lah ii Allah l what will be will be I And
so—good :evening, Miss Louise; good
'evening, Miss Amy. .I.,trust I am not
late." ,f• •
-Miss Louise turned round, -with a
brilliant smile„ and.. frankly gave him
.her hand ; Miss' Amy, glancing
shyly up from under her long lashes,
smiled, too, with a celestial blush.
'Just . in time, Mr. Dudley ; all the
gentlemen have arrived;' and Mrs. Hew
.
itt is waiting tea, so come, in and—have
a bouquet."
Miss Louise broke off a blooming Zed
rose, and handed it, to him, in her gay,
graceful sorry; and Mr. Dudley, as he
took'it, raised the fair'hand to , his-lips.
"A thousand thanks ! but I must have
another ; this does not fill my: button
lole--ah, that is it exactly. Kiss Amy,
you are in angel I"
For Miss Amy had pulled a cluster
.6f'velvet'paniies, bright with gold and
purple, and< presented =it to him •'with
another shyly tender glance, as rever
ently as if he were the Grand Turk.
"Heart's-ease (do you know what you
have-given me, Miss Amy?) and roses
gieWl=l:
"Love " ot4ci Miss Amy, with a wick..
ed little Wok at Louise, whose clear,
dark cheeks slightly flushed.
"Oh, nonsense ! don't get sentimen
tal. Look how splendidly the sun is
setting in that sea of crimson flame.—
Cense to supper."
"Crimson flame ! Come to supper I A
pretty brace of subjects to string to
gether," said Mr. Dudle , sotto voce, as
he followed the golden vision into the
dining-room, where all e rest of Mrs.
Flewett's guests had alOady assembled.
They keep primitive hours in the' coun
try. Dine at one instead of fiv4; have
supper at six, instead of the snall and
dissipated hours "ayont the twal ;"
therefore Mr. Dudley was not in the
least: astonished to find every body
around the table impatiently awaiting
his coming. There were, greetings, then
grace, and every body fell-to with coun
try. appetites; and Mr. Dudley, with
great.delectation, found himself support
ed by . Miss Amy on his right, and Miss
Louise on his • left hand. The table,
too, met his approbation; there were
boned turkeys and jellies, spiced ham
and green garnishing, oyster patties and
cold tongue, cream and coffee, and
cakes, and butter and biscuits, and mar
malade, and no end - of good things,
wherein the heart of man delighteth.—
Then, too, he had a chance of keeping
up a raking fire of compliments to the
right and left, all the time, and treating
them to sweet things, practically and
metaphorically, in the tallest sort of a
way. It was a delicious meal, in every
sense of the-word; but the most deli
cious things must come to an end some
time or another, and the company dis
persed into the "spare room" ; the fid
dlers struck up, the dancers went to
work, and the real business of the eve
ning began in good earnest. As a gen
eral thing, June is not the pleasantest
mouth in the year for vigorous dancing;
but this high, long room, with its four
great windows, opposite -to each other,
all open, and the twilight breezes
sweeping in from the hills, was perfectly
cool and comfortable. A waltz was the
first 'thing. Mr. Dudley asked Miss
Louise, and in two minutes they were
floating round and round as lightly as if
floating in the regions of space. Miss
Louise was looking particularly beauti
ful on this auspicious night, her amber
gossamer robe floating out three or four
feet- around
. her ; a black velvet cein
ture,-glistening-witli little gold drops
making a. shining circle for the young
gentlenitin's arm ; the magnificent black
eyes, aird'the -gold beads in her hair,
seeming to outfiash each other Ohe .
damp, silken braids touching his cheek;
the slight, dark hand lying at rest in
his own--ah, dear me I what's the use
of going on; you've heard it ,all a thou
sand times, and know the whole thing,
as well as I do. Miss Louise was be
wildering ; Mr. 'Dudley was excited ;
Miss. Louise was smiling and gracious
Mr. Dudley was in love; and the up
shot of it all was, that—with the music
in his ears, Miss Louise in his arms, and
his head going round like a top, with
excitement and dancing—he stooped
down, with a flushed cheek and beating.
heart, while they still span lightly round,
and whispered'a few magic words in her
ear. Miss Louise's cheek turned the
color of the red, red rose, newly sprung
in June and, his button-hole, and she
out; whispered one little word in an
swer, bat that was just the word he
wanted her to - Whisper, and the state of
mental ecstasy he fell into for about five
minutes no earthly steel-pen can do jus
tice to. Of course; public transports
were out of ..the,question where they
were, so he could 'do nothing but squeeze
her hand intifshe wee ready to scream
from pain, and waltz away with the rest
of the folks, until it came to an end.--
Then came quadrilles. Miss Louise was
borne off by the young village lawyer,
her most devoted admirer, and a "per
fect dear," according to all the young
ladies' verdict; and Mr. Dudley, with
a comfortable glow under his watch
pocket, went and 'asked Miss Amy.—
Now, Miss Amy, was voted unanimous
ly, by every body, the most graceful
dancer in the village; and as 'he watch
ed the :filmy white 'skint,-.the crimson
Zouave jacket, the 'Violet eyeS, and the
rose-tinted cheeks, Alley somehow got
....
mlx€,ld-up in his brain with amber and
jet, and black eyes sad gold beads, un
til he could not, for the life of him, tell
~ ,
which was appermost. The tiny, white
hand he thought even prettier than the
slight dark one; the shy smile and deli
date facspriorelbewitching than the open
glance and frank laugh of the other,—
And when, .after.„ the quadrille, music
was called, far, and . ;. - he et.ood at the piano
to turn the leaves for,the singers, though
Miss Louise, in her high, clear, griper.
_
soprano, sang lots 9f Italian snits--
April 11, 185.-1
from "Di tanti pitlpiti" down, yet Miss
Amy's old Sc
fah.
ballads, in her sweet
contralto vo - e, seemed by far the best
of the two, And then there was such
pathos in her fats when she sang, at
his request, "John Anderson, my Joe,
John," especially in that last tender
verse
"John Anderson, my Joe John,
We've elamb the +till together;
And mony a canty day, John,
We've hal wi" ate anither.
Now we n3aun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we',l go ;
And w 'l] sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, lay Joe."
—her voice * quite trembled at the last
lines, and the violet eyeS she liked to
bis face were fairly swimming in tears.
That was enough I Mr. Dudley's hand
some head was lowered again—the same
story was whispered in Miss Amy's ear
that had been breathed in another about
an hour previously, and with drooping
eye-lids and vivid blush tho same answer
was returned. Looking round, is an
other triumphant ecstasy, after this feat,
the conquering hero was rather discon
certed to find a pair of piercing black
eyes fixed upon him, that had noticed
both whisper and answer, blush and ela
tion. , Another second, and she, too,
had whispered something to Miss Amy,
drawn her arm within her own, and led
her coolly and quietly through the
crowd, and out into the moonlight and
morning glories.
Mr. Dudley was uneasy; Mr. Dudley
was more—he was a trifle dismayed.—
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and
the two belles of the room returned not.
Mr. Dudley grew so troubled and rest.
lees, that the warm dancing-room be
came suffocating, and he walked out
into the fresh, free air. Two slender
shapes, in white and amber, stood at the
gate talking earnestly—probably cam
paring notes, and boasting of that night's
splendid offer. 'He had hoard of ladies'
wonderful confidences at curling-hair
time. had they forestalled that confid
ing period, and could he by any possi
bility be the subject of this earnest
discussion ? He was not long left in
doubt. A spirited voice, clear and
sweet as a silver bell, came from the
gete-with, "Mr. Dudley, come here one
moment, if you please ?" and Mr. Dud
ley, feeling very much as if he were go
ing to the gallows, walked dein the
garden path, and joined them. It was
Miss Louise who called ; and two bright,
red spats, all unusual there, burned on
Miss Louise's dark cheeks, and the tall
form was drawn up in splendid scorn,
and the magnificent eyes blazed with a
dangerous light. One arm was protect:
ingly twined round Miss Amy's waist,
and the, glow of her cheeks seemed to
have beau caught-from that young per_
son's, for they were as white as her book
muslin skirt, but the little held itself
erect and proudly too.
"Ur. Dudley," begad' Miss Louise, in
a voice which rang out clear as a bugle
and transfixing, with her splendid eyes
that most unfortunate of ineu, "you did
me the honor, about an hour ago, to tell
me you loved me, and, with my permis
sion, would be most happy to make me
your wife."
"Ye-e-e-es I" faltered Mr. Dudley,
not daring to meet the firey eyes.
• "And, fifteen minutes ago, you re
peated the same thing, word for word,
to this young lady beside me! Now
then sir," fiercely, and with • ayes that
seemed fairly blazing, "what do you
mean, by this insult ?"
"I did'nt mean to insult you—upon
my soul I did'nt P.' exclaimed Mr. Dud
ley, vehemently,, and ready to cry. "I
love both of you so much, that I can't
tell which I love the best, and that's
the whole truth."
With which, Mr. Dudley sat down on
a bench, and, leaning his arms on the
fence, dropped his contrite thereon.—
Miss Louise looked at him for a brief
time in silence ; and the pride and fire
in .her face melted into unmeasurable
contempt.
"Poor thing I" she said, with a alight
laugh, terrible in lover's ears, "don't
cry ! Come, Amy, let us" go back to
the house. I promised Mr. Webster
to waltz with him; and I know half the
gentlemen in the room have been dying
since you left it. Take care of yourself,
Mr. Dudley, and don't catch cold lit
ting in the dew, if you can help it ; and
remember a good motto in going wrong
is—one at a time 1"
One month after, Miss Louise mar
ried Mr. Webster, the young lawyer,
and Miss Amy was her bridesmaid.—
And when the June roses bloomed
again, Miss Amy had 'a wedding on her,,
own account; and gr. Dudley was left
a sadder and wiser man, to reflect that
between tw'o' stools we come to the
ground.
NO. 38.
THE POWER. OF EXAMPLE.—In the
neighborhood where we once lived, a
man and his wife wore almost constant
ly quarreling ; during their quarrels
their only child (a boy) was generally
present, and of coarse had caught many
of his father's expressions. One day,
when the boy•had been doing something
wrong, the mother, intending to chas
tise him, called him, and said : "Come
here, sir. What did you do that for ?"
The boy, complacently folding his arms,
and imitating his father's manner, re
plied, "See here madam. I don't wish to
have any words with you I'
THE CANDID PHYSICIAN.-A gentle
man called some time since to consult
a physician with regard to a rheumatism
which caused him much pain. The doc
tor immediately sat down and wrote
him a prescription. As the patient was
going away the doctor called him back.
"By the way, sir, should my prescrip
tion happen to afford yon any relief,
please let me know, as lam myself suf
fering from an affection similar to yours
and for the last twenty years have tried
in vain to cure it."
A Cool) STOMACIL—A country youth
having an uncle living in town, resolved
to pay him a visit; he accordingly
started off, ono morning, and arrived at
his uncle's house just as supper was
ready. Being very hungry, from his
long walk, he no sooner got seated at
the table than he commenced a furious
onslaught on the eatables, at right and
left.
"Hold on, sir," said his uncle, who was
a pious man; "we always say something
hero before we eat."
"Say what you have a mind to," an
swered the boy, between two mouthfuls,
"you can't turn my stomach!"
Er During the reign of - Bonaparte,
when the arrogant soldiery affected to
dezpise all civilians, whom they, in
their barrack-room slang, termed Pe-
bins, Talleyrand one day asked a gener
al officer, "What is the meaning . of that
word 'Pekin ?'" "Oh," replied the gen
eral, "we call all those Pekins who are
not military." "Exactly," 'said Talley
rand, 'just as we call all people military
who are not civil."
gar A learned Lord, speaking of the
salary attached to a new judgeship, said
it was all moonshine. Lord Lyndhurst,
in a dry, sarcastic way, remarked, "May
be so ; but I have a strong notion that,
moonshine though it may be, you would
like,to see the first quarter of it."
Pass through a crowd of boys
buss , with fire-crackers, and you will see
how much more fond each lad is of his
own particular noise than that of his
companions. The same thing may be
observed among public speakers and
private talkers.
OW A lady passing along the street
one morning, noticed a little boy scatter
ing salt upon the sidewalk, for the pur
pose of clearing off the ice. "Well, I'm
sure," said the lady, "this ir real be
nevolence." "No, it ain't," replied the
boy, "it's salt."
er A Massachusetts Judge has de
cided that a husband may open his wife's
letters, on the ground—so often and so
tersely stated by Mr. Theophilus Par
sons, of Cambridge—that "the husband
and wife are one, and the husband is
that one 1"
Fs- An old lady, looking at the curi
osities in a museum, came to a couple
of sea dogs ; and, after gazing at them
with wonder, inquired of a wag who
stood near her, if they barked. "No,
madam," says the wag, "their bark is on
the sea."
ka'"Six feet in his boots 1" exclaimed
Mrs. Partingten. "What will the im
portunes of this world come to, I won
der ? 'Why, they might just as seasona
bly tell Me the man had six heads in his
hat."
er We once heard of a Kentuckian
whose amazing strength was attended
with fatal consequences. lie was cut
ting a slice of bread and butter when
the knife slipped, cut himself in half
and the two men behind him.
igar A woman offering to sign a deed,
the judge asked her whether her hus
band had compelled her: to sign. "Ho
compel me I" said the- lady; "no, nor
twenty like him!"
Why is a woman deformed when
she is mending . stockings ? Because her
hands • are who're her feet ought to be.
Cr Died of small pox at Washington
7 ,- - -an old Indian 'chief.