ONE DOLLAR A YEAR IN ADVANCE.] AND LITERARY REGISTER. NEW SERIES, VOL. g, NO. 7.] GEO. W. SCHROYER, Editor and Publisher. Office—Front Street, three doors above Locust TErma—The SPY is published ever• Saturday morning at the low price of St per annum IN ADVANCE. or one dollar arid fifty cents, if 1101 paid within one month of the time of subscribing . . Single copies, THREE CENTS. No paper will be discontinued until all arrearages are paid. No subscription received, or paper discontinued, for a less period than six months. Letters to receive attention, must be post-paid. TERMS OP ADVERTISING. [Fifteen lines or less to the square ] Advertisements will he inserted three times at the rate of $1 per square; for every subsequent insertion alter the third, 25 cents will be charged. The number of insertions desired must be marked, or the advertisement will be con tinued until ordered out, and charged accordingly. A liberal deduction will be made on the above prices to yearly advertisers. NEW STORE. TILE Subscribers Respectfully inform their friends and the public, that they have taken the Store formerly occupied by S. B. Bowles & Co., corner of Locust rind Front Streets, and are nosy opening an entire new Stock of Goods, purchased at the present very lose prices, among which are FRENCH, ENGLISH & AMERICAN BLACK CLOTHS Olive, Brown, and Bloc Cloths; French, English, sod American Black and Blue-Black Cassimeres ; Striped, Plaid, and Figured Cussitneres, Satinets, Summer Cloths, Gumbroons ; Low priced Summer Studs. Cords und Bea verteens, &c. - LADIES' DRESS GOODS. Grenadines, Organdies, Passhos, Barege. Silk Tissue. Lawns, Gingham's, and Black and Blue-Black Gro de Mines, Plaid and Striped Black Silks, Fancy Dress Silks, New Style Chamelies, ALSO, Calicoes, Muslins, Cheeks, Ginghtuns, Ticking. Chambreyse, Linen and Cotton Table Diaper, Noosing, Gloves, Conon Alpaca, and Silk Hose, New Style Bosom Trimmings, &e., &c. ALSO, GLASSWARE & QUEENSWA RE—GROCERIES . Sugars, Coffees, Teas, Mackerel, herring, Molasses, Feb. and Sperm Oils, Soaps, Candles, Spices, h &c Our goods arc all NEW and selected wit great care. and we hope by strict attention to business, to receive a share of custom of our friends and the public. All kinds of Country Produce taken in at the highest prices. ROBT. C IA LVANT, PETER HALDENIAN, Jr Columbia, March !2.5, 184a—tf MORE BARGAINS. The subscribers have, during the past week, made a large additioa to their turiaer stock of FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC DRY GOODS, which, for elegance and cheapness, content Inc n.tarpassed. Among which is a very large assortment of PRINTS. at 4 eta. u eta. 8 cts, 10 eta, and 12: eta per yard. DRESS GINGHAMS as lose as 12' eta, 10 cis, and 25 ets, A Ipa can and I daces, lanatres. 'A. general assortment of FURNISHING GOODS. Such ns 4-4.5-4, 6-4, and 10-4 Bicaclied and Brown Sheet ings, Tickings, Checks, Crash, Linen and Cotton, Brown and Bleached, Table Diapers, &c. GENTLEMEN'S DRESS GOODS. Sup. Blue and Black French Clotho; sup. Blue. Black, Brown, null Olive English Cloths; Phial and Fancy Car suncres, Satinets, Vcstings, &c. CHINA, Glass, and Queensware; Fresh Family Gro ceries. selected with very great care, among which are New Crop Sugars—Loaf; Pulverised and Crushed Sugars Coffees, Spices, the Superior Teas of the New York Call ton Tea Company, Oils, Fish, &c. All of which they arc determined to sell as Low as the vittv LOWEST, for ca-th or country produce. Thankful for past favors, they respectlidly solicit a continuance of the patronage heretofore bestowed upon them. J. D & J. wincarr,. _ , . Locust St., 2 doom below Second Si Columbia, Mrsll 25, le le—if BALD HEADS GRAY Heads, Red Heads, and all with Bad Hair, Read! 51r. ABRAHAM VANDERBEEK, 01 Avenue D., New York, certifies that his head was entirely bald on the top, and by the use of two 3,. bottles of Joaes's Coral flair Restorative, he has a good crop or hair, and will soon have it long and thick. Mr. William Jackson, of SO Liberty street. Pittsburgh, Pa., certifies: On the 3,1 of February, lsl7, that .I r. Thomas Jackson's head, on the top, was entirely bald for 15 years. and that by using two 3s. bottles of Joie's Coral Bair Restorative, the hair is growing fast and thick. and will soon he entirely realm ed. Gray Heads! Gray Muds! Rend-1 hereby certify that my hair was turning gray. and that since 1 have used Jones's Coral Hair Restorative it has entirely ceased falling—is growing fast, and has a fine dark look. Before used Jones's Coral Hair Restorative I combed out Land lulls of hair daily. W. TOMPKINS, 92 Jiang st.. N. Y. Mr. Power. a. grocer. of Fulton at., laud his hair choked tip with dandrull, and Jones's Coral Hair Restorative en tirely cured it. Do you want to dress, beautify, and make your hair tort and fine. Read-1. l leery E. Cullen, late barber 011 board the steamboat South America, do certify that Jones's Coral Hair Restorative IP the best article I ever used wr dressing, softening, cleansing, and keeping the Jour a long time in order; MI my customers preferred it to any thing else. Sold only in N. York at 92 Chatham street : and by R. WILLIAMS, Agent for Columbia. SOAP. JONES'S Italian Chemical Soap is called by the Medical Society of Paris. " a blessing, a miracle and a wonder," to cure eruption, disfigurement or discolora tion of the skin. It cures' pimples. blotches, freckles, salt irlteutn, scurvy. sore heads, tail. sunburn, inorphevr, and It changes she color of dark, yellow or sunburnt skins. to a flue healthy clearness. For sale by It. WILLIAMS. Agent tor Co lumbia. jet.,4'4e-tini ALLII774I:3ES QAFE: Always Effectual Arc you a sufferer front Fever and Ague? Are you alltieted with the periodical raturn of that cold and (urinal visitor, the chill. tollowed by its faithful attendants, the burnittifever and drenching , perspiration? Lose no time,then, in procuring a bottle of Dr. Osgood's India Cholagogue. You will have but one chill at most after you commence it and probably none at all. Your neighbor who has used the medicine will assure you of this. It is but the promise of a result which thousands have already realized, and.which your own experience will most fully prove. For sale by June 3, 1848. Wlll. A. LEADER. Also for sale by S. M. Smith, Wrightsville. UNIVIIfitSAL VERMLN DESTROYER. It- has long been the study of Pharmaceutics to produce n preparation which would prove a Specific for the destruction of Rats, Tice, Roaches, and Glances, but every effort has been fruitless till the present. After much gaudy and experi ments the proprietor has succeeded In dtacoaerang n pre paration, which he guarantees will prove elfectual in the entire annihilation of the above named vermin. For Sale by Whl. A. LEADER. May 20. Front street. NEW GOODS. Will. & S. PATTON have just received a large and fas,- ionablc stock of SUING AND SUMMER DRESS GOODS; Consistingof Ginghams, Lawns, Bareges. Linen and Al paca Lustres, fancy Print n k. at the very lowest prices. MEE Plain and changeable Dress Silks, Black and Bliw- Black for Mantilas t with every style of Dress Goods tor the season. Please coil and excunine our stock. Columbia, Apri1:19.,1849-. TO SPORTSMEN. THE undersigned have jnst received the best and most complete assortment of English and German stun and twist and patent breech DOUBLE BARRELED GUNS, which have ever been offered in this market at such prices that will suit all. Also, six Barrelled Re• volving and self-cocking PISTOLS.CaII and examine for yourselves, at the cheap Hardware Store of RUMPLE & HESS. Columbia, August 21. 1847. moß.wzNa iTzuu3m. ALGIILIZW. Between York, Wrightsville and Co lumbia.—The President and Directors of the Baltimore and Susquehanna Rail Road Company having consented to contume the MORNING TRAIN between the above places. irr The Car will leave Colombia DAILY, [Sundays ex cepted) at 61 o'clock, A. AI., and the 'Praia will leave Wnghtsville at 04 o'clock. Returning, the Train will leave York atS o'clock, A. M. D. C. H. BORDLEY, April 17, 1847. Supcet THE COLUMBIA SPY. GOOD-BYE TO AIEXICO. DI" JOIJN OP YORK. Homeward our feet are turned once more The last to leave—the first to land— And now press forward to the shore That girls our own free, northern land. Oh! how the heart wills rapture tholl.s! l low leap, nt thought, our mountain rills ! And waves afar the gulden grain Upon our home fields wide and far— That we shall see and tread again— Wooed by our own sweet summer air! Homeward—how much is in slant word ? Home—Mat we left long years ago— When first the blast of war was heard, On hill above, in vale below. Then how our yeomen hurried Anil,. From cast and west, and south anal north ! They met and vanquislied oft the foe Os many hard-contested field, Where, with their banners torn and low, We saw his boasung legions yield. But this is past—yeace lets returned— Our blades are sheathed and idle note; Blades that on ninny fields have ranted Bright laurel. ibr the m earer's brow. And now, our soldier's dirty done, We leave this land of Mown and sun, Its never-changing slimmer time— Its gardens and its olive-groves, And avenues of fragrant lune— Its cites, its intlitie=, and it, love, Oh! land of beauty, peerless bright ! Of snow-rapped peaks, and siniliog ; Vet shrouded in a darker night Than over Egypt's shrine: rginoins The stranger, parting fiom thy -Lore Thy glories to behold no more, Dids thee ihres, ell with ,welling heart, As his swill bark leaps o'er the sea, And as the truant tear-drops start, Prays God that thou may'st yet lie free. Farewell l—no ties are I've tarried long upon the cod: Farewell !—thonalt coining as a for, I leave ‘v ithout hate or .pni And parting thip , —threver—let The qtri •r hope that you may yet Rise front your living grave, and .tand Before the nation., Jost and great— Proteeung all within the, land— A tree and indepeodent Slate. Farewelll—thy cpires are fa ,t Behind you grey, ,oicuoic I feel thel look %%ill be the la,, '(CI no regret lay l o.rou hlk ; For all my hopes and nll lily feat, Are with the seeneit of earlier yearc; Fond ineinorieB 1.1.-larinind me ihrule , ;, And .hall I, can 1, break thrsprll One parting-word —a deep, n long, A hearty, and a 1041 rmu:ll} • Well, it is certainly very mysterious said Mrs Smith. • Very mysterious, indeed !' said Mrs. Brown. 'Altogether beyond my comprehension!' said Miss IVillowbougit. Mysterious! do tell me all about it 7' said Mrs. Jones, who had just entered the room, and heard enough of the conversation to convince her that scandal was it:. stzbjcet ; as, indeed, one mightlhave known had she been deaf—for what other subject had been started at Mrs. Smith's for a twelve. month?' ' Have you heard nothing of the mysterious stranger 1' asked Mrs. Brown. 'Nothing.!' '\Vho has been here ever since the day before yesterday morning ?' added Mrs. Smith. Not a word ! how remarkable !' ' And whose name no one can discover !' contin ued Miss Willowbough. ' Wonderful! wonderful!' exclaimed Mrs. Jones. But what is the peculiar mystery about him V A great deal, 1 assure you,' answered Mrs. Smith. 'ln the first place he wearsa black coat and drab pantaloons—and then, again he-- lie—indeed his whole appearance has un air of very peculiar mystery.' ' Bless me! what arc we all coming to ! But is there no way to find out who he is?' • 1 expect Miss Vinegar here every moment,' said Mrs. Smith, 'and if any one knows anything about him, she does.' What, that old maid! Oh, I detest her; said Mrs. Jones, she is so terribly inquisitive. I never could bear any one who is eternally prying into the affairs of their neighbors. Then you can't find out even his name. I would give anything to know. But here comes Miss Vinegar; perhaps she can tell us.' Miss Vinegar poked her sallow visage into the room. She looked the very incarnation of scan dal, and well she might, for it had been her daily food for more than thirty years. Miss Vinegar was not of a certain, but of a very uncertain age—va rying from twenty-five to forty, according as you took her assurance, or the family bible for your guide ; and the whole of that time she had passed in the laudable occupation of investigating and re gulating the affairs of her neighbors. She had a general oversight of the whole village. She knew everything that ever happened, and was positive of a great many things that never did happen. Like the glorious sun, size shone on all alike. None so elevated as to be above the reach of her tongue; none so low as to escape the vigilance of her con. descending scrutiny. But alas! the most distin guished powers arc sometimes compelled inactive from the want of proper objects for their exertions. Such seemed to be the inet itablc fate of Miss yin. cgar. Possessed of every faculty and blessed with every inclination for the manufacture of scandal, size was alarminey deficient in the raw material. She had worked up every character within her reach. With the intuition of genius she had seized upon every incident susceptible of expan. sion, and had stretched it to its utmost extent. She had done everything that could have been done, but, alas! who can make bricks wih ou t straw 7' ller best exertions met with no cncour. itgement. Nothing would happen out of the regu. lac course of events—Everybody went to church on Sundays. Nobody was extravagant in dress or dinners. Nobody was getting married, or like to be; poor woman she felt sure of that. In fact, there was nothing worthy the intention of Miss Vinegar, and people began to fear that, for want of any other who would attack her own character. Never did anything occur in better time than the appearance of the mysterious stranger. Miss Vinegar's researches had not been attended with that success which usually rewards persever. mg industry. W... 61, S. I. ATTON tprietrii. 1 Z elect !-:itorics. THE HARD NAME. COLUMBIA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 19, 1848. 'rho landlady knows nothing about him,' she said, us she entered. have ascertained that he rises at eight—and drinks two cups of coffee with out cream' 'Without cream echoed Mrs. Jones. ' Yes, without cream. I was very particular in my enquiries, and the information may be relied upon.' Very singular, indeed ! Now I think cream is all the beauty of coffee.' ' I should not be at all surprised,' said Miss Vin egar, if he should prove to be the bank robber, whom we saw advertised.' But he is a dark man, with black hair,' said Miss Willowbough, ' and the stranger has a very light complexion. Nothing easier than to alter the complexion, as you must know, Miss Willowbough, retorted Miss Vinegar. Miss Willowbough enjoyed the repute lion of improving her complexion with pearl pow der, but she blushed through it all, and continued, ' but then the robber is a large man, and the stranger is tall and slim.' ' Nothing easier than reducing the size of the waist,' answered Miss Vinegar sharply, and glanc ing at Miss Willowbough's hourglass form.' Really the conversation was becoming quite per sonal. So et least thought Miss Willowbough, as she answered. ' But there is one thing he ...mild not alter. Ire is evidently not more than twentpfive years old, while the advertisement describes the robber as over forty; and your own experience, Miss Vine. gar, must have convinced of the impossibility of uny one's appearing twenty years younger than he really is." Miss Vinegar began to mutter about 'some peo ple,' and some other people,' but was interrupted by an exclamation from Mrs. Smith, which drew all eyes to the window. 'There he goes, as 1 live !' 'See,' observed Mrs. Jones, as the mysterious stranger' took a long step to avoid a muddy spot, see how mysteriously he lifts his foot.' Poor man, he little knew the interest ho was ex. citing in the kind souls who were watching him. • I wonder if he Is married,' said Miss IViHow. bough. •If he is not,' said Miss Vinegar, •he will not probably fancy n piece of paint and whalebone.' • Nor a woman old enough to be his grandino. tiler,' retorted Miss Willowbougb.. "l'here, did you see Mr. White? Ile bowed to the stranger, so he must know him. I will knock un the window, and beckon for him to come in. I will inquire concerning his danghter—she is in delicate health, you know. Indeed, I have some preserves for her. A capital excuse, is it not 7' Mr. White was the only person in the village who had ever been known to keep a secret, conse quently his popularity with the ladies was below zero. Ile was a complete anomoly. He could en joy a cup of tca,altlrough not sweetened with scan dal; and.,really it never seemed to destroy his op petite for his own dinner, because he could not tell what constituted that of his next neighbor's 'Oh, why did you beckon to that man I never could bear him,' said Miss Vinegar. • Because he is on very impertinent. Would you believe it—no longer ago than last Monday, I saw him go home with a covered market-basket— strange that people will use such things—l sent Betty over to ascertain what lie bad fin dinner— the most natural thing in the world, you know— and what do you think he said? He told her be should dine on scandal, and, was it not so very common a dish, he would invite her mistress to din ner. So impertinent! and to a lady, too! I de clare, I can't bear him. Betty found out, though. Ile lied a salmon. It couldn't have cost him less than three or four dollars—say three dollars and fifty cents.' The amiable Miss Vinegar was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. White himself. Mrs. Smith was very kind in inquiries about Mrs. Whites health. Miss Vinegar apoltgised for the imperil nance of her maid, who, she declared, went off with. out her knowlcoge, and had grown so inquisitive that she expected to be compelled to dismiss her." What gentleman were you speaking to just pow V asked !qrs. Brown. 'O, be, he—was a stranger.' ' Well what is his name ?' was the eager ques. Lion, ao they all pressed around him. But none of them observed the mischievous smile that played upon his lips, as he answered with assumed hesi tancy, ' I really do not know—as I ought to—in fact, I do not exactly recollect his name. ! but you must tell us; it shall go no farther, I assure you. .1 should like to tell you; but, but, really, there are some peculiar circumstances, which—' But you certainly would not hesitate to inform us,' said Mrs. Smith. I have not the least curiosity in the world, but I merely—wish to know—that's all.' • He has a very hard name,' said Mr. White. 'Hard name-what is it, Stone?' Oh ! no, Harder.' Harder than stone 7 then it is Iron, I suppose.• No, Harder yet.' Harder than iron? impossible—Adamant?' Harder still." harder than adamant! I cannot imagine what it is., • I do not feel at liberty to tell ; but if you can guess, I shall not ho responsible. So good morning, ladies;' and, in spite of their entreaties, Mr. While fairly mode his escape. • What can it be,' said Mrs. Smith? • harder than adamant 7' • I have it,' said Mrs. Brown, • Heart.' • You do not mean, pray, that the heart is harder than adamant t' said Miss Willowbough, with a sigh. • I speak in a spiritual sense,' said Mrs. Brown; • the heart is by nature, totally depraved, and until—' ' I wonder if it is not Pharaoh,' interrupted Miss Vinegar. Many other names were proposed and rejected. At last they arrived at the conclusion that his name must be Diamond; and, with this opinion, the ladies separated. Again the latlics"were in conclave, at the house of Mrs. Smith. Again Mr. Diamond, so they !tad named the stranger, passed the window; and, again, all eyes were directed toward him. 'There! he has dropped a letter in the street,' said Miss Vinegar. 'Send some one for it, while I keep watch' Mrs. Smith's maid was immediately despatched for the important document, while Miss Vinegar stood sentinel at the door, lest some more fortunate individual should secure the prize. But bereaution was needless:tile maid picked up the letter, Mrs. Smith received flat the sireet.door, and, without looking at it, so great was her haste, bore it in tri. umph to her anxious guests. 'Now, we shall know his name.' said Miss Vine. gar. Mrs. Smith held up the letter, and read the superscription: ' Wtwast HARDER, Esquire.' Oft in the stilly night,' as the watchman said yen they asked him if ho ever took a nap. Drop a line, if you wish to see me,' as the fish said to the angler. To make raspberry jam—pick the ber:ics in the cool of the morning, and bring them twelve miles in a milk cart. From the N. Y. Spirit of the Taneq. MR. BOGGS VS. MR. NOGGS. A FAMILY SKETCH. In one of the prettiest of New England's pretty villages, not a score of miles from Boston, there re side two men of about the same age, who so btrong ly resemble each other, that those even who come in contact with them daily, can with diffi culty distinguish one from the other. Within a. few years past they have become warm and inti mate friends; they dress precisely alike, and are constantly the occasion of ludicrous errors, from the similarity of their appearance. They may be known as Mr. Boggs and Mr. Noggs. Some time since the Sheriff' had a writ placed in his hand fur the detention of Mr. Boggs, and though in the habit of meeting these men very often, he served the process upon Mr. Noggs, des pite all his protestations, and had arrived with his prisoner at the very threshold of 'limbo,' before he became satisfied of his mistake; meantime, Mr. Boggs was snug at home, enjoying his cigar, little troubled with an idea of law or the predicament of his friend! The last joke current, however, is 4 a good 'un.' Mr. Boggs had been paying his addresses to a very worthy young woman, some dozen miles from his residence. and week before last she con sented to become Mrs. Boggs.—The marriage cer emony was performed at an early hour in the morn ing, at the lady's home, and the happy couple de parted for the bridegroom's residence, where they arrived before noon. After dining, at the earnest solicitation of a female friend alter new liege lord, the bride consented to a stroll in the village, leaving Mr. Boggs at table with a few companions over a glass of Hockheimer. Mr. Noggs—the counterfeit resemblance of his quondam associate—had been called away upon urgent business a week previously, and found it im possible to return in season to witness the 'splicing' of his friend. He had just reached home, and having attired himself, he was on his way to pay his respects to the newly wedded pair, as the bride and her companion were returningfrom their walk. Mrs. Boggs encountered Mr. Noggs a short dis. lance from the house, and hailed her supposed lius. tend in the happiest manner. Why, Charles! Couldn't you be content an hour WI thollt me ?' 'Ala'atm?' said Nogg; taken entirely by stir prise. I've bad a nice walk, and um just returning.' Mr. Nogga stared in utter astunitMment. 'Some mistake, ma'am,' continued Mr. Nogg a, abashed. 'This is my friend, Charles—Miss Bloom.' • Yes, ina'am—bul, really—' • My husband, Charlotte.' ' What, ma'am?' 'Come, Charles! you shouldn't have tarried so long over your wine, upon your wedding day. 'Mc! My mime ain't Charles, ma'am!' • Fe, fie! come along!' • I see—yes'in—l perceive; it's Mr. Boggs you mean.' Very well, then ! Don't make a sceno in the street, here—Mister.Boggs, Wpm arc so particular, come along'—and seizing upon Noggs' arm, the fair bride urged hint toward the house, evidently supposing her husband to be a little winey. But poor Noggs, was in trouble. • /ain't Mr. Boggs, ma'am—my name is Noggs.' —Noggs, ma'am. Noggn ?' said Mrs. B.,gazing in his face. `Nouns; echoed Mr.N. emphatically. Mrs. Boggs .00ked again, and with a stumbling apology escaped, arriving a few minutes oiler al her residence. The story was told, Mr. Noggs was announced, the error was corrected, and every body laughed except Mr. Boggs! A merry evening succeeded, nevertheless—the company finally separated—the bridal kiss was ex changed--and even Mr. Noggs, the modest Mr. Noggs, joined in the ceremony. The happy bride was suddenly missed front the circle, the friends separated, and an hour afterwards Mr. Boggs was left alone in his parlor. The loving husband at length ventured toward his chamber. The round harvest-moon darted its chaste but brilliant rays through the lattice work which shielded the casements, and the sweet bride almost slept—when the squeak of Mr. Boggs' bran new boots upon her chamber's threshold, aroused her! It was past midnight, and Mr. Boggs had always been accustomed to retire early. At that lone 'stilly hour' Mr. Boggs advanced cautiously and timidly towards his sleeping apartment, and, for the first time in his life, -'Misgiving thoughts Crept quickly o'er his heart - - but he pushed forward, at peace with all the world, save his bootmaker, whom ha cursed from the very bottom of his sole! Mr. Boggs reached the door—it was slightly' very slightly ajar; he listened, but nothing save the still small voice of a 'croaker' in the neighbor ing frog pond, broke the stillness of the scene— and as it was getting towards morning, Mr. Boggs concluded it advisable to proceed. His hand was on the latehet. Not rudely, but with scrupulous decorum, he gently opened the door, and stepped forward (oh! those cursed boots!) a shocking squeak, resembling that of a shoat beneath a gate,' saluted the sufferers ears as he entered, which was followed by the interesting interrogatory—especi ally interesting of such a moment—from Mrs. Boggs— • IVlio's there?' • Me, love,' said Mr, Boggs, half choked. •Who are you ?' • Me, Charlotte.' Who?' Hush continued Mr. Boggs, about to shut the door.' How dare you, Sir, presume—' • What, dearest 7' ' Open that door, air!' Mr. Boggs immediately obeyed, and Mrs. Boggs re-adjusted her sweet little narrow-bordered night cap. Now, Sir, may I ask what is your business here at this time of night ?' 'Why, Charlotte!' stammered Mr. Boggs. 'Speak. Sir!' Wife, don't you know me 7' ' What do you want, Si: 7' 'lt's very late—' Well, Sir !` 'And I thought it time to retire.' ' ' I have my doubts, Sir.' Of what, dearest?' Your identity.' 'Me !—Mine 7 Why, I'm Mr. i3ogge.' ' Not Noggs?' ' Not Nuggs, but Boggs, your loving husband, Charlotte !' .Wc.ll—l'm in doubt You can't come here (and the bewitching beauty placed her enow.whito hand upon the ondistutded (rout pillow) until you really satisfy me whether you really be Mr. Noggs or Mr. Boggs.' . Poor Boggs. At the expiration of another half hour, the vil lage clock struck three. Mr. Boggs had been sit ting in his lolling chair at a respectful distance, and Mrs. Boggs having exhausted herself or •rgu. meet in the endeavor to convince her husband that he was somebody else, had finally fallen asleep. [81,50, PAYABLF, AT SIX MONTHS. Mr. Boggs quietly divested himself of those boots, and us the moon dropped out or sight behind the hill, he noiselessly closed the chamber door, and—l came away. ZEE= TWO JERSEY GIRLS 'WHO DIDN'T SEE THE ELEPHANT One of the Jersey boats brought to the city of New York, on the 4th, two young, fresh and hearty girls, who had long before agreed to celebrate the Fourth of July together, in seeing the wonders and amusements of that city. They had made a trifle of money in picking strawberries at one penny a basket; were fast friends and not half as green as the fields they were accustomed to roam m, al• belt they were vertiable country girls, and had never read the latest work on etiquette. You may be sure they were in fine spirits, when, alter swal lowing a cup of tolerable coffee in Washington Market, they walked up Fulton street to the Amer. ican Museum, paid their two shillings each, and "helped themselves" liberally to a sight of the numberless curiosities which that popular establish. ment contains. When, according to their own estimation, they had got their money's worth, they went out, in tending to make their way to the Battery, to see the military pageant. But they bad scarcely left the Museum steps before a good-looking, well. dressed young man, quite accidentally stumbled against them, and quite as naturally apologized for the unpremeditated offence. There's no harm done," said Susan, is there Jane ? We arc country girls, and don't mind tri. Iles. Besides, you city people always walk with your eyes al the tops of the houses. Fur my part, I don't sec how you get along so well.' Then you aro from the country, young ladies?' said the strange young gentleman, with a bow and a smile. 4 Yes, we are,' answered Susan ; ain't we Jane? We arc from the Jerseys, just back of Shrewsbury. Were you ever at Shrewsbury, sir,—down at the Beach, I mean It's a famous place along that shore, and people who arc born there have their eye teeth ready cut, and their eye-brows buttoned back when they're away from home.—Catch them nap. ping! Why they were all what you call land pi rates once, and didn't think any more of tolling u ship ashore, than a city sharper would think of cheating a country green-horn.' 4 I am not from the Jerseys,' the young man re. plied, but am a stranger in town,,lilie yourselves, and if you have no objection, I should lie pleased to accompany you round for a few hours.' ' I'm agreeable,' said Susan, if Jane is. We are going to the Battery to see the Rogers,' June said that she was not the girl to break up pleasant company, and off the trio started—the girls quietly exchanging, glances as Susan whisper ed to Jane— • Ife's one of 'cm we've read of in the papers, and now for seine fun, Jenny, dear.' 'cry pleasantly, arm-in -arm, the party worked their way through the crowd, and had g ot as far down as Trinity Church, when, with a sodden start and a loud exclamation, Susan declared that she had lost the purse which contained the money of both herself and Jane. Jane looked sorrowful, while the young man appeared to be not a little embarrassed. 'I don't care,' said Susan, after regaining her composure; 'it was not much—a low cents over five dollars; and I have a filly dollar bill pinned in my sleeve, which I was to pay away for father. But I'll get that changed, and let father pay the next time he comes up.' Saying which she pre sented a fifty dollar note, and asked the young gen tleman where she could get it changed?' All the brokers arc closed lo•day; he said,' and I have not more than fifteen dollars in city money by me. If the balance in Southern money would a miwcr Ts it good ?' asked Susan. Oh, perfectly good,' was the reply, although you must get it exchanged at the brokers.' ' Fa timed do that—give me fifteen dollars in city money—that's more than I want to-day—and the rest in Southern, as you call it.' The exchange was made, the Jersey girl pocket. ing fifteen dollars in good money, and thirty-five in worthless bills, and the three resumed their walk to the battery. The sharper was very polite and attentive, and Susan and Jane as cordial as if they had known bins from childhood. But wo have not time to fol low this interesting party in their sight seeing on the Fourth. They went down to one of' the eating houses, near Fulton Market, to dine, about two o'clock, and then the girls began to talk of moving for the boat, which left at four. Their companion in sisted that they should stay and see the fire-works in the evening, and said he had an aunt who kept a fashionable boarding-house, where they could stay all night, and return home the next morning. Jane protested that they must go back that night, but Susan, with a sly wink, said they could as well stay over, but they must go down to the boat, and send word by the Captain to her father, who would be waiting for them at the landing. Jane, with much seeming reluctance, assented, and away the three started Ibr the boat. They were obliged to wait, because Susan could not find the Captain, and it would not do to send the message by any. body else. Threce o'clock came; then half past three, then a quarter to four—still Susan could not see the Captain. They were standing by the gang. way when the last bell rang. It tolled, the ropes were being cast off, when Susan, with a wink at June, said, that on the whole, she believed she would go home, and the two girls stepped on board the boat, just as they were pulling on the plank. 'Much obliged for your politeness,' said Susan, ith a merry laugh, and speaking to the sparker. gallant, who stood on the pier—' remember the to your aunt.' 'And me, too,' said Jane, laughing also: 'and if ever you come down our way, tell us how you enjoyed the fire-works. I'm sure you won't forget us.' - When the boat was under way the girls broke out into a real Jersey laugh. You didn't love your purse V asked Jane. ' Here it is,' said Susan, 'to speak for itself, and some of the rogue's money in it, too. Only think. that fifty dollar counterfeit bill, marked counter. feit in big letters on the back of it, that father got when he was a grand juryman, and indicted the counterfeiters—to pass that off for fifteen dollars good money, (I know it's good) and have a band. some beau in the bargain !' But suppose,' said Jane, earnestly, 'that we should be mistaken and lie not he the sharper we suspect ?' ' Not a sharper? Why didn't he want us to go to his aurat's " But the chap made a mistake—he's not bad much acquaintance with Jersey girls, bat he'll know * w e again, when he sees 'em.' And Susan put up her money in a way which expressed the satisfaction she felt at the result of her Fourth of July adventure in New York.— N. Y. Dispatch. Love AND MARRIAGE.-.--The chain of love 18 made of fading flowers, but that of wedlock of gold—lasting as well as well as beautiful. [WHOLE NUMBER, 950. From 11/e Chicago Tribune. A BIT OF ROMANCE. It is a trite, but at the same time, true remark, that the real incidents of life constantly occurring around us, possess a far more romantic interest than the fanciful ones conceived in the teeming brain of the novelist. Of this the following o'er true talc, told us in brief by the steward of the pack et: boa t Louisiana, on saturday, will furnish an illus tration: Some ten years ago, as our readers will re. member, there was what was termed a “ rebellion" in Canada, and after the o patriots" were subdued, some were summarily executed, and a portion banished, for a long term of years to Australia. Most ofthese latter were men of families, from which they were torn without mercy, to expiate in a far distant land, by imprisonment and hard labor, the crime of having failed in their attempt to rid their country of the evils of misgovernment. We think they acted very unwisely in proceeding to the ex tremes they did, but this point we will not stop to consider.—With one of these expatriated men our tale has chiefly to do. For seven or eight weary years he had borne the hardships of a lonely captivity, hopeless of ever see ing home or friends again, when a general amnesty was proclaimed by the British Government in regard to all, with one or two exceptions, of those who had been concerned in the rebellion. Our hero was now at liberty, and his first thought was to seek his borne. But he had no means topay his passage there, and he accordingly shipped on board a whit ling vessel, which at the end of two years more, landed him upon his native shores. Wife, children, and friends filled his thoughts,and Inc hastend on to his old residence in Canada. Every thing remained as it had been—friends and neighbours•grceted him as he passed along—but how his heart sunk within him to find the home stead deserted, and to.learn that his wife had been married two years to another, supposing the JAI'S. band of her youth to be dead. She and her new found mate had left that part of the country and settled somewhere in Illinois. The poor men fell desolate indeed, and be deter" mined to see and if possible to reclaim his wife and children. After weary travel and many inquiries he traced them to Knox County, Illinois, where they were comfortably settled in their new home. There lie presented himself a few days since. Tho wife could not have been more surprised or pained to see an apparition from the grave, for she had long considered him as dead. The new husband, too, was rather disagreeably surprised to see before him a claimant for his wife. What should be done? The first husband, was anxious to obtain the lady, the second was disinclined to] give her up, looking upon his claim as good. They were reasonable people all around. The original claimant remained in the neighborhood a couple of weeks, during which time the matter was frankly talked over. At last the rivals came to tho very just and' rational conclusion that the lady was the proper person to 'nuke a final decision of the question, and to her it was mutually agreed to refer it, giving her time to consider it in all its bearings. What more perplexing position could a woman be placed in than that? Here were two men with almost equal claims upon her affection. One was the father of all her children but one, the companion of her youth—the other, bound to her heart by near and sacred tics, and by the mutual love they bore an infant that had been born to them. She could not for a time decide—what true hearted woman could? A tumult of thoughts and emotions filled her heart, alternately swaying her from side to side. Thus the conflict lasted for several days, during which time she was enabled to look clearly into her own heart, and at last she was ready for a de cision. Which could she choose but the man around whom were twined the tendrils of a first and strong affection—to whom she bad given the first offerings of her heart? The needle may vibrate for a time, but it points at last with unfailing constancy to the ncver.sctting star of the north; and in like manner, the heart of a true woman, having in the wide uni verse but one fitting mate, will, after all vicissitudes, turn lovingly to the sunny warmth of " first, only love." A disposition of the youngest child must now be made, and it was mutually agreed by the two men, that, as it could not be deprived of a mothre's care, the first husband should take it with the other chil dren, to be restored to the father et some future time.—The re-united family now made preparations to go to a new home; and so great was the interest excited in the neighborhood by this singular affair, that as many as a hundred and fifty persons from the neighborhood were present to witness their de parture. On Saturday last they came up in the packet Louisiana, on their way to Michigan, where they will take up their residence. We naturally sympathize with the first husband, to whom wife and children are restored, but who will not feel for the berearementof the second? From the Green Mattntain Freeman THE FAMILY CIRCLE. NVllat a beautiful sight is a well ordered family. If there is a paradise on earth, surely, it seems to me it must be in the bosom of such a family. How wise and beneficent is our Heavenly Father in con. stituting the family relation just as it is. No social enjoyment, in my opinion, can be found in any other place, that can bear any comparison to what may be realised in that family where all its mem bers are actuated by the laws of kindness. Here is an epitome of heaven.—Each ono is doing his utmost to make the rest happy; and love and peace reign in every breast. The parents Jove their children, and do all they can for their comfort, im provement, and highest good every way; and the children in return, respect, and obey their parents in all things and do their utmost to realize the ful filment of their hopes in every respect. At come, around the family circle there is no re straint, no concealinent of the real disposition, no assuming, for the time being, a pleasant counte nance and an agreeable manner where the heart is not enlisted, as is often the case in a strange corn• pany, but every action springs from the spuntane• ous promptings of the heart, and is the index of its real character. To know the character of an in dividual, you want to see him at home, where he acts without disguise. If here he is kind, gentle, affectionate, pulite and utliging, in all his actions, you need not fear to trust hint in any situation in life. One who is kind at some will not bet unkind abroad. I love to visit a family where love TOIRTIR. It does me good in every respect. [ well remember, and never shall forget, the happiness that I enjoyed, and the real benefit that I received, in visiting a certain family, while I was pursuing my College studies. I took delight in visiting several families, but one house was my favorite place of resort, es pecially if my studies had perplexed me, or any. thing had transpired to discompose my mind, or in any way irritate my feelings; this was the house of a widow lady who bad five most lovely children. I think I never witnessed in any other family such perfect government. The, slightest indication of the wish of the mother, was law with the children. This power she had gained not by accident, but by