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