The Columbia spy. and literary register. (Columbia, Pa.) 1848-1848, October 07, 1848, Image 1

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CEO.IV. SCHOYER, Editor and Publisher.
Office—Front Street, three doors above Locust
TEXlts.—The Spy is tiublisbed every Saturday morning
at the low price of St' per annum IN ADVANCE, or
one dollar and fifty cents, f not paid within one month of
the time of subscribing. Single copies, THREE CENTS.
No paper will be discontinued until all arrearages ure
No subscription received, or paper discontinued, for a
less , period than nix months.
-Letters to restive attention, must be post-paid.
[Fifteen lines or less to the square.)
Advertisements will be inserted three times at the rate
131 $1 per square; for every subsequent insertion after the
third, 2.5 cents will be charged. Tine number of insertions
desired must be marked, or the advertisement will be con
tinued until ordered out, and charged accordingly.
A !Iberia deduction will be made on the above prices
.o yearly advertisers.
1MP.03.1 , 11N 1 1 1 TO 'MILLERS.
TIM subscriber has purchased the Patent righil
1 of Timbrs improved Water Wheel, which has been
proven to do more work with less water than any other
wheel now in use. The wheels can be seen in operation
at John Limner's Saw nu, and at John nerr's Saw Mill.
Persons having Mills on streams of water where there
is not sufficient fall for overshot wheels, will find these
wheels to do more work than ,either Pitch-back, Under
lihot, or Flutter Wheels.
Sept. 2, 1848.-ff Columbia, Lane. co., Pa.
T EWES ifIIEDENICK & Co., late from Philadol
_LA phis, dealers in HATS and CAPS, would most 'res
pectfully beg leave to inform the citizens of Columbia
and its vicinity, that they have purchased the old and
well known Hat Manufacturing Establishment kept by
-lours VAINIIIEN for many years, next door to .1. Felix's;
Jewelry Store, Front Street, Columbia, Pa., where they
hatend to spare no pains ar,d means to carry on the above
business in all its various•branches. Their stock con
sits in part .of fine Mole Skin, 13caver, Nutria, and Caii.
tor HATS. Also,' a splendid assortment of Pearl and
Braid Summer HATS of the latest fashion and style, to
gether with a good assortment of CAPS of every sire,
price, and q u ality. New style Silk flats, which we have
Just received front Philadelphia, and which we will sell
At city prices.
With the confidence resulting from an experience of a
number of years with one of the first hatters in Philadel
phia, will guarantee us in saying. dint for fashion, neat
/less, durability, and CHEAPNESS, we millet be sur
passed by any establishment in the Union.
Columbia, June 3,1845..—tf.
cea warrants the American people in solicittng fur
treatment the
- - _
that can be found in the COULtry, in secret and all diseases
of the urinary organs. It acts first by purging &rail irri
tating matter from the system which aggravates the dis
ease and at the same time acts upon the secretions
through the =diurnal' the blood, by which all vestiges of
the sypilitie taint are eradicated from the system It also
eradicates secondary syphillis, cures whites or leueor
rhea in women, and is a general purifier of the system.
He sure to ask for Hunter's Indian Vegetable Panacea.
Price St per bottle. For sale by
I.;eptember 2, 1849. W. A. Ll:Am:rt.
TO SOB MONEY. By calling at the cheapest
CLOTHING STORE under the sun you can nave
twenty per emit.
C. LEVY 8: Co., Front Street, one door above Schrei
ner's 110 w, wonld respectfully call the attention of the
citizens of Columbia and vicinity to their large and splen
did assortment of
Consisting of French Broadcloth Coats of all colors and
descriptions, Pants, Vests, Caps, Ilandkerchiefs, Cravats,
Stocks. Suspenders, Carpet Bags, &c., &c.
C. LEVY & Co., Ratter themselves that they can sell
the cheapest Clothing in. Columbia, or any where else;;
and if you do not believe it, lust give them a call.
Columbia, August 10, 1848.-2 m
L. }JELLING, Herb Doctor, late of Marietta,
v, begs leave to inform his friencls and the public gen
erally, that he has removed to the house of Henry Martin,
next door to 13oyle's Hotel, Front street Columbia, Pa.
Whilst he returns his sincere thanks for the very• liberal
encouragement hitherto received in the prucnce of his
profession, he respectfidly aCqUililltA them that he eon
filmes as usual the PRACTICE, OF MEDICINE, in all its
'various branches, and will atteud, either by day or night
all those who may have occasion for his services.
Columbia, July 1, 1848.—tf
RE übscribers Respectfully inform their
friends and the public, that they have taken the Store
ormerly occupied by S. B. Tloude & Co., corner of Locust
and Front Streets, and are now opening an entire new
Stock of Goods,purehased at the present very low prices,
among which are
Olive, Drown, and Blue Cloths; French, English, and
American Black and Blue-Black Cassimeres; Striped,
Plaid, mid Figured Cassimeres, Satinets, Summer Cloths,
Gumbroons ; Low priced Summer Studs. Cords and Bea
verteens, &e.
Grenadines. Organdies, Passlins, Barege, Silk Tissue,
Lawns, Gin hams , and Black and Blue-Black Gro de
Mines, Plaid and Striped Black Silks, Fancy Dress Silks,
New Style Chamelies, ALSO, Calicoes, Muslins, Checks,
Gingtams, Ticking, Cliambreyse, Linen and Cotton Table
Diaper, Napkins, Gloves, Cotton, Alpaca, and Silk Hose.
New Style Bonnet Trimmings, &e., &c. ALSO,
Sugars, Coffees, Teas, Mackerel, Herring, Molasses, Fish
and Sperm Oils, Soaps. Candles, Spices, &c , &c.. &c.
Our goods are all NEW and selected with great cnrc,
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.
Columbia, March 25, 161 S—If
Gllads,Red Reads, and all with Bad Hair,
Road! Mr. ABRAHAM VANDERI3F.BI, of 9.8
Avenue D., New York, certifies that his bead was courtly
bald on the top. and by the use of two as. bottles ofJoi ics's
Coral Hair Restorative, he has a good crop of hair, and
%vitt soon have it long and thick.
Mr. William Jackson, of 90 Liberty street, Pittsburgh.
Pa., certifies: Chi Vac ad of February, 1847, that Mr.
Thomas Jacksoti'a head, on the top, was entirely bald
for 15 years. and that by using two as. bottles of .love's
Coral Hair Restorative. the hair is growing Instead thick,
and will soon be entirely restored.
Gray Heads! Gray heads! Read—l hereby cm illy
that my hair was turning gray. and that since I have
used Jones's Coral Hair Restorative it has entirely erased
tailing—is growing fast, and has a fine dark look. Before
I used Jones's Coral Hair Restorative [combed out band
lulls of hair daily. \V. ToMPKINS, 92 King at- N. V.
Mr. Power, a grocer, of Fulton at.. find his ham choked
up with dandruff; and Jones's Coral Bair Restorative en
tirely cured it.
Do you want to dress, beautify. and make year hair soft
and fine. Read—l, Henry B. Cullen, late barber oil board
the steamboat South America, do certify that Jones's
Coral Hair Restorative is the best article I ever used for
dressing, softening, cleansing, and keeping the haw a
long time in order; all my customers preferred it to any
thing else.
Sold only in N. York at n Chatham street f and by It.
WILLIAMS, Agent for Columbia. ,e24'48-4)m
Between York, 'Wrightsville and Co-
Inmbla.—The President and Directors of
the Baltimore and Beannehannn Rail Road
Company having consented to combine the AIOILNING
TRAIN between the above places.
117 - The Car will leave Columbia DAILY. [Sundays ex
cepted] at al o'clock, A. M., and the Train will iPIIVC
Wrightsville at SI o'clock. Relenting, the Train will
leave York at 8 o'clock, A. M.
D. C. 11. BORDLEY,
April 17,1E47•
TOWS Italian Chemiea Soap is called by the
it) Medical Society of Paris, " a blessing, a miracle and
a wonder," to cure eruption, disfigurement or discolora
tion of the skin.
It cares' pimples:blotches, freckles, salt rheum, scurvy,
sore heads, tan, sunburn, ramphew, and it changes the
color of dark, yellow or sunburnt skins, to; a fine healthy
clearness. For sale by R. WILLIAMSAAgent for Co
lumbia. 1e2418-fitn
13noine5s Otraton).
To persons advertising in the Spy by the year, there
will be no extra charge. Subscribers can have the Spy
and their card inserted for one -pr by paying 51.50 in
advance, or if they have paid for the paper, 50 cts. for the
card. Those who are not subscribers we will charge Sl
for inserting their card one year.
Attorney. Locust Street, between Front nod Second Sts
Attomey, Walnut St., between Front and Second
Physician, corner of Locust and Second streets
Nos. 3 & 4, Walnut street, above I lotel
JEWELRY STOIZE,No. 1, t.:eltreitter's flow, Front Street
Corner of Front and Walnut Streets, Columbia. l'enna
Manuf'rs of Stove, Hollow-wnre. n.c.,'WrighNville. Pa
Dry Goods Merchants, Loeu,t st, 3rd door below god st
Dry Goods Merchatna,Locurt street, helow the Bank
Dry Goods ATerchnots, S. E. corner of Locust & Front st
Dry Goode Merchants, N. W. corner olLocuts & Front, st
Merchant Tailor, Front street, 2d door above Locust st
Merchant Tailors Front St., between Locust and Walnut
Clothing Merchant, No. It Front Ftrect.
rornerist, Front Street. between I .oeust and Walnut St,
• Druggist, Front st between Locust and Walnut
Druggist. Schreiner. Row. Front street
Ratters. Front Street. a f•w doors below Herr"; I fotel.
No. .2, Schreiner'a Row, Front Al.
Cabinet. Maker, comer of Third and Locust Street
an an - • . pp ...le ie n St. r_
Boot nod Shoe 11Tnoofnewer, laljoinior. Here.. lintel
Manufacturer, Second, between Locust and Walnut St.
manumetwer, Prom SI, between 'Jo-not itha w:atun SI
font rind Shoe Manufacturer. Front, below Locust et
foot nod Shoo !!;tore. No. 40, Prom to
Manufacturer, Locust street, opposite the Tows, Hall.
Shoe Finding Store, Locust street, above Front street
Vnriety Store, No 41, Front 44
Variety Store. Front ft. between Love-t and Real nut Ft
Book seller and Suninner. Front ht. :id door shove Locust
Lumber Merchant and Master Builder, Locust street
Paper Hunger. &e., Second, between Cherry & sr.
Herb Doctors, Front street. next door to Boyle's Hotel.
ITAIR DRESSER. bnek of Ileres Wainnt street
i .. I -.1 l• w. r r •'. t. jit .1w • .1,
FRENCH xtr.voLtrTxotir.
TYRANTS as well as Illommolies must fall, so
must prices. That i 4 a filet which can be proved by
calling at the Ohl I , :itabli9lied CLocx, Ws.xcit, nod .Itve-
ELRY Stand of John Felix, Front street, a few door.
below Ilerr's Washington Hotel.
The undersigned haying just return
, ell from Philadelphia and New York,
where he has purchased, at ,the pre
sent very low prices, a large and splendid assortment of
of every description, tvhiell, together with Its former ex
tensive stock, he is determined to sell otrquick and at
small advances. Now is is year time if )0u wish to
purchase JEWELRY of the very Lest quality. and at
astonishing low prices. The following embraces seine of
the leading articles of lus inagniticeta stack
full jeweled; Gold and Silver Lepinc. Quarticr, and Eng
lish Watches; Gold and Silver Al custom Cases, Silver
Table, Tea, Salt. and Mustard Spoons; Silver Sugar
Tongs, nutter Knives( &c.; Silver Scissor Hooks, Silver
Combs and Hair Darts, Silver and Sleet Belt Slides. Gold
and Silver Spectacles. Spectacle Glasses. Silver Thim
bles, Gold and Silver Pencils and Pens, German Silver
Spectacle Cases; (roman Silver Table and Tea Spoons
Gold Fob and Guard Chains, Steel do.; Gold, Silver, and'
Steel Watch Keys; Bracelet Clasps, Ear-Rings, Finger-
Rings, Breast Pins and Bosom Studs (never!: description
Curd Cases, Steel Purse pings and Tassels. fag and
Parse Clasps; a large assortment of Silk Twists, Shell
Side and Back Combs: Pen Knives, Pistols. Spy Glasses,
Music foxes, Pocket 4300 ks mid Purses. together with a
large variety of other useful and ornamental LlTliCiet,
usually kept m Jewelry Stores.
Particular attention paid to repairing Clocks, Watches,
and Jewelry—and all work warranted.
Thankful for past favors, the subscriber solicits a roll
dna:nice of the some—which be flatters himself to merit
from Ins experience and by a strict attention to hmunes.s.
JO lIN vEr,ix.
N. B. Remember the place. It pi to Front .trect,
a few doors BRIAR' Ilerr's AVa..htrattna Hotel, Colum
bia, Pa.. where tau can bay cheap and good Jewelry,
and warranted to give eanstactiort in every in:amine or
hate your Inoue) refunded.
Columbia. Auctivt In.
\TA?TED a first rate Wagon-maker, to take
v clmrge of a shim and carry on the business an los
own book:above the Depot. A shop will he rented to a
good intchanth at a b out Sl3 per annum, out at least
.120 worth of work given by the subscriber himself to
start on the first year. The work is principally on heavy
Ore Wagons. For further particulars address
11, M. WILLS,
August 19, 1519.-em Columbia, Pa.
- -
Lewis Tredeniek & Co.'s Fashionable HAT
&CAP Store. first door below John Feltx - s Jewelry store,
where you can always get a Fashionable Hat or Cap at
the lowest city price. Call and examine our New Style
and judge for }ourselves. TREIWNICK :v Co,
August 5, 1%8-ti Froot Street, Columbia. Pa.
OF THE head, fare and hands, such as scanty.
erysipelas, saltrheurn, Itch. cores. sore heads, tali,
freckles, sunbtftn, morpliew, yellow, dark disfigured skin
are cured. When these causes arc removed, persons
who use the bath freely should remember that more than
water is required to remove the humor from the pores.
I have seen persons who have had filthy skin diseases,
for years, and after trying everything in vain, have be en
cured by washing the skin with Jones's Italian Choinical
Soap, and can conscientiously utter it for any of the
above complaints. It is particularly adapted to persons
from the sunny SoUth. They would find their skin much
whiter, clearer and smoother by its vac. But they must
be sure to ask for Jones's Chemical Soap, as there are ,
numerous counterfeits. Price 50 cents. For sale by It.
Williams, agent for Columbia. au20•48-triec24
WAS taken up by the subscriber on Sunday
morning last, about half way between Columbia
and Washington, and is now at tus residence, near the
Bear Tavern, where the owner is requested to call and
prove property, pay charges, and take hint away.
Sept. 20, 1848.-3 t JAMES GiLVX.S.
eat an hour today, John,
Beside the old brook stream—
Where we were school Boys in old nine,
When manhood was a dream
The brook is choked with fallen leaves
The pond is dried away,
I scarce believe that you would know
Tine dear old place to-day.
The school house is no more, John,
Beneath our locust trees,
The wild rose by the window' side—
No more waves in the breeze;
The scattered stones look: desolate,
The sod they rested on
Has been ploughed tip by stranger hand,
:+utce you mud I were gone.
The eltestun tree is dead, Joilll,
And what is sadder now—
The broken grapevine of our swing
Hangs on the withered bough t
I read our names upon the bark,
And found the pebbles rare—
Laid up beneath the hollow side,
As we had piled them there.
Beneath the grass-grown bank, John,
I looked for our old spring.—
That bobbled down the alder path,
Three paces Cron the swing;
The rushes grow upon the brink,
'rue 1,001 Is black and bare,
And tot a loot, nits many a day,
It weals, has trodden there.
I took the old Hind road, John,
That wandered up the Lill,
'Tis darker than it used to be,
And scenic so lone and still;
The birds sing yet upon the
WIICTC once the sweet grapes hung,
But not a voice of human kind,
Where all our voices rung.
sot me on the fence, John,
That lies as in old time,
The same half panel in die path,
We used so oft to climb,
And thought how o'er the burs of life,
Our plal. mates had past on,
And left me counting on this spot
The been that are gone.
Zelcct Zale.
roton the Columbian for October.
b' CllAbLtb: °MYNAS, r->q•
"A fine establishment, that," said I to my friend
Manton, as a splendid carriage, with an elegant
pair of bays,drove on the ferry-boat just in advance
of us, as we were evo:Aing lbr a drive to Green
"And a lady to match," said lie, "if you could
only see her; and what is more,' happen to know
her, and it would do 'you good to hear a bit of ro
mance that I could tell you, if you were not such a
hater of nil that sort of thing."
" I do hate romance," I answered with some
spirit, "when, as in most eases, it is admired be
cause the like of it never did happen and never will.
I hold that nothing is worth being pleased with
but truth, and as to your glorious creatures of ro
mance, that were born in the brain of the poet or
novelist, and painted on paper for so much a page,
I think they are well enough for girls of seventeen;
but for full.grown men to be pleased with them, or
even to tolerate them, is out of the question."
" Stop, stop," says Manton ; you have no idea,
have yon, that the beautiful girl in that carriage
was born in the brain of a. poet, and painted for so
much a page?"
" Well done, you have me now," I had to ans
wer; " but you dont mean to say that your romance
is about the mistress of that establishment? You
did not tell me an, at first, and I was simple enough
to suppose that it bad only suggested a story of
your own or somebody else's invention. If you
have anything in the way of a true tale, that will
suit a matter-of fact man like me, tell on, I listen."
"I hardly think I will, you seem to be so fearful
of being pleased. At any rate, I shall save the
story till another time."
The boat was not crowded, and Manton reined
his horse to the right, and let him come up to the
coach, and again,us if by accident, he pushed him
on a step and brought the Tilbury to its side. The
lady recognized him instantly, and I caught sight
of her as she bowed, and asked him where he was
driving. Fortunately she was bound for Green.
wood too, with her sister, who was visiting her
from the country.
"Could anything be more delightful ?" asked
Manton, turning tome, as we were driving off the
boat. " You shall see her, and perhaps you will
then be willing to lacer the story."
" I am ready to hear it now."
13ut you shall wait, and you deserve to be pun.
ished for doubting the truth of what I was going
tote)) yon."
We rode on in silence, and as we were in front of
the carriage we alighted at the entrance of the
cemetery, and waited its arrival. The ladies pre.
ferred to ride ever a part of the Tour, and would
then join us in a ramble through the more pictur.
esqe and secluded portions that could not be reach.
on wheels. . .
I confess that I grew impatient; not so much'to
hear what Manton had to tell me, as to hear 'the
lady herself, who had excited my curiosity not a
little. Manton and I had come down for a stroll
in the cemetery, and having secured our horse,
walked on for a short limo in company with the
carriage, and then taking a short cut across the
grounds, took. a scat in the shade to wait the com
ing of the ladies. As we had saved half an hour,
by crossing, I begged he would improve the oppor
tunity by giving the promised bit of romance.
Well, she was pretty, was she not 7" ho asked
as I pressed him to begin.
" She was more than that, she was very beauti
ful," I said. "In truth, I have rarely seen so
much sweetness and simplicity in a face of such
striking beauty. It seems to me that she is not a
city girl; she reminds me of those I knew fifteen
or twenty years ago. when I was a young
bachelor in the country, and not an old one as
I am to•day."
"Then it makes you feel young again, does it,
to meet such a woman. end yet, you have been,
merely pleased with the first sight. I wonder
what would happen if you should find her as
sweet as she looks, an angel in heart as you think
she is from the lustre of her eyes."
" I had to submit to my good friend's humor,
and let him go on in hopes that be would soon
begin to relieve my curiosity; s 0 I told him I wa■
too old to think of falling in love. and I wished
hint to skip all allus'ions to any such future
lie said ho would prefer to wait till we returned
home, as he feared the lightness with which we
had been speaking would be a poor introduction
to the serious story ho was about to give. How
ever he would indulge me.
" You know," he began, " that I spent the suns
our, two years ago, in the country, but you may
not have known thit the most of the time I was
quietly domesticated in the beautiful village of
r-, in Massachusetts. I was in search of
health and rest, and found just the spot that I
wanted, in the house of the village pastor, an ex
cellent man, with a large, warm heart—an uncle
of my mother. Ono morning, at breakfast, he
told us of a painful scene that ho had been called
to witness the night before, and which had so much
affected his feelings that ho had scarcely slept
since he returned from the house to which lie had
been called.
" Mrs. Norton was a widow and poor, and the
mother of five children, the eldest seventeen, the
youngest nine. She had been born to affluence,
but her father had been reduced in his circumstan•
cos while she was yet a child,and she married
early in life a young man who was struggling to
acquire a competence, but found the labor beyond
his strength, and with a numerous family growing
poorer every year, finally sunk under the weight of
anxiety, and the pressure of a business that brought
no relief. He died while lie was yet comparatively
young, and left his wife with a family of little chit.
dren almost without any means beyond a small
hence and lot he had contrived to save when ho
saw that he must soon leave them to the care of
Providence in a heartless world.
" Mrs. Norton's parents had been some years
dead; the friends of her father had disappeared
with the fortune that had bound them to him, and
she was compelled to feel that her dependence un
der God must be upon her own exertions. The
sympathy of the kind.bearted around her would be
a comfort in her bereavement, but would furnish
little or nothing in the way of pecuniary support.
Nor did she wish charity, as that cold word is un.
derstood in this cold world. She preferred to help
herself, if she could, and was willing to endure ar
duous effort rather than depend on the reluctant aid
that others might bestow. Her eldest child was a
sweet girl of only eleven years, but very efficient
for her age, and able to assist her mother much in
caring for the comfort of the younger children,
and attending to the house and neat little garden
in its rear. Mrs. Norton engaged with a coura
geous heart, in the attempt to earn a livelihood for
herself and thetas children who looked to her for
daily bread. She had been well instructed in the
best of village schools, and was able to give her
little ones as good art ducation as she had received,
so that she was at no expense in this important
part of the training of a young family. Her re
sort, as the chief and almost only means of acqui
sition, was her needle, the beat of all inventions for
woman, when without a husband or a father upon
whom to lean ; and this proved to he enough, and
no more than enough. The garden and the needle
yielded her enough to feed and clothe herself and
the five children who were growing up around her,
the solace as well as the care of, her life. Every
body loved Mrs. Norton's children. They grew in
comeliness as in years. There 'was a gentleness
and grace in their whole aspect and deportment
that won all hearts. You would have known that
their mother was a lady, if you had never seen her,
Not that their manners were formed after any of
our city models, or that they tool; upon themselves
any airs that marked a distinction between them
and the children of the village. It came to them
in the natural way to be genteel. Mrs. Norton
had been used to good society in her youthful days,
and took pleasure in moulding the manners of her
children, as she knew full well that on their deport
ment must depend all her hopes for their success if ,
she should be taken from them. She was a Chris,
tian, too, and her children were early taught to fear
God, and keep Hie commandments; to put their
trust in 'Him, and love Him in the days of their
youth. Now all this was very well, and as the
children were universal favorites, and every one
loved to make them happy, and they always seem
ed to be happy, none knew the struggles in that
widow's cottage, struggles that made inroads upon
the heart and health of Mrs. Norton, as she toiledil
day and night to maintain her offspring. In these
efforts she derived more and more aid every day
from her eldest daughter, Mary, who seemed to
have imbibed all her own energy, and to possess
excellencies that gave dignity to the humble wades
of life, and exalted the retired and lovely girl into
a heroine. She assumed the burdens of life as if
they were her highest pleasures, and went cheer
fully to the severest duties with the sweet conscious.
ness that she was lightening the cares of her dear
mother, and blessing the home of her younger
sisters and brother. Her needle was the best
friend of Mary, as it was of her mother. If. it
must be confessed, our pretty heroine had learned a
trade, and actually went out' to work by the day,
making clothes for children. She was a tailorese.
Alas for romance, you will say."
Go on, I beg you. I like it all the better for
the real life of the story. Go on."
"I will. You read of the heroism of character
that high life at times .develops, where the eyes of
the world and the applause of the world are the ex
citements to lofty action, sublime selrdevotion, and
toilsome efforts, that seem to demand more revolu
tion and energy than belong to ordinary mortals ;
but there is more real heroism in the silent, steady,
unflinching performance of duty by an obscure
country girl, with such a load on her heart as
Mary bore, and such nn object berme her as Mary
kept in view, than in the brilliant Quixotism of the
Maid of Orleans.
"Nearly six genre had elapsed since the death
of Mrs. Norton's husband, and it was becoming
painfully apparent that sbe too was soon to sink in..
to the grave. Her constitution, never vigorous, bad
proved inadequate to the increased responsibilities
laid upon her at his death, and now she was about
to follow him. It was at her dying bedside that
my host, the worthy pastor, had been the night be..
fore, and he was now describing the scene through
which be had passed.
"The children were around lier in an agony of
grief that melted all who saw them. The neigh•
bore had flocked in to proffer kindness and assuage
the anguish of that dreadful hour; and the pastor
came to bring the consolations of the gospel to
console their breaking hearts. The dying mother
and her daughter Mary, deeply as they must have
felt, were the calmest persons in that mourning
" Mrs. Norton was evidently drawing near her
end. She took her children one by one and gave
each a mother's dying blessing, and committed the
younger ones to the care of Mary, to whom they
were to look up and submit as they had ever done
so dutifully to their mother, who was leaving them.
Never did Mary seem so lovely as when she put
her arms about those little orphans, and, restrain
ing her own measureless grief that she might
soothe the clamorous sorrows of the children, told
them to trust God, and all would yet be well.' • Mrs.
Norton said to' her good minister, that she, bad
committed them all •to the care of Him who had
said,' Leave thy fatherless children with me : I
Will keep them alive; and let thy widow,' trust in
me and she was willing to trust that gracioni
promise, even in death.
"She died that night, and there even before the
dead was laid out, while they stood around the yet
warm clay, to which the children clung as if they
would not be parted from the dust of her they
loved,—even there the friends and neighbors of
Mrs. Norton, in the fullness of their hearts, provided
homes fur those dear children. Whatever disposi
tions might have been made by will of the little
property left, it was obvious that it would do com
paritively nothing to supporting the family now
that its energetic head was gone; and it was
thought best that they should all at once leave the
homestead, and derive what aid they could from
leasing it. Mary and Ellen, the two oldest, would
take the youngest with them to a room which was
immediately offered by one of their friends. Ed
ward, a boy of fifteen, was pressed to make his
home with the village teacher, who would give him
his "schooling," and find him a situation in busi
ness as soon as he was old enough ; andtherc were
so many who desired the company of the only one
left, a sweat girl of a dozen summers, that it seem
ed difficult to decide who should have the privilege
of her adoption.
" You remember the old saw, so shines a good
deed ia a naughty world;' but you never heard of
en more beautiful instance of doing good than
ibis. It was the spontaneous action of warm
hearts, and when. those children went to bed
Inwards morning, they all felt that if they were or
phans they had a Father in heaven, who had raised
up friends on earth for them in the season of their
darkest trial.
Mary kept an eye on her little charge. Seldom
did a day pass without her seeing ell of them, and
Sundays they spent together at Mary's room, and
at church, cherishing the memories of maternal
instruction, and strengthening each other in holy
purposes of living, as they had been taught to live
by her whose bands they still felt on their heads
as she laid thorn on that night when she left
" And now when I tell you that the ladies in
that carriage are Mary and her sister Ellen, and
that Mary is the mistress of that establishment
and a house up town to correspond with it, and
that she lives here in the city in style, and shows
herself a lady •to the manor born,' you will want
me to go through a long story to tell you how it all
came about. But I shall make a short one of it by
simply telling you, what is the simple fact, that
while Mary was at work at her trade in the family
of Mr. Wiley, a retired merchant from the city,
who had left his son in business here, and had es.
tablished himself in a fine mansion overlooking the
village of F-, his son saw her, and had sense
and taste to fall in love with her ; and as everybody
in and about the village knew that Mary Norton
was as good as she was beautiful, instead of envy.
ing her when she became the bride of Henry Wi
ley, the neighbors all said lie was a lucky man to
win Bitch a prize, worthy and elegant and wealthy
though he was. Indeed, they were as handsome
a couple as they stood together in the village
church, when they were married, as your old bach
elor eyes ever looked on. When Henry Wiley laid
his heart and his fortune at her feet, Mary Norton
told him with all frankness that there were objec
tions to their union she could never remove; she
had promised her dying mother In be a mother to
her sisters and brother; they were dependent on
her for counsel' and her care; and she could not
leave them to become the wife of one who would
take her to a distant city, and remove her from the
trust she had received. But not only did he hear
this magnanimous resolution with patience but de.
light, and immediately proposed such arrangements
for the family that they were all included in pro.
visions for the general happiness. A home in the
country was secured them during that part of the
year which she would spend in the city, and the
summer she was regularly to pass in the midst of
her old friends.
"There they come now. I shall introduce you,
and you will agrco with me that • truth is stranger
than fiction,' when you know the worth of that
poor girl, an orphan child, working for her living
but two years ago, and. now not twenty years of
age, the wife of a' rich merchant, and the centre of
a circle in which wealth and fashion and true worth
I saw her; walked with her, rode with her, re.
ceived a very cordial invitation to call with Mr.
Manton at her hotise, and have since found my new
friend, Mrs. Wiley, 'to vay 'nothing of her sister
Ellen, among the very pleasantest of my acquaint
I love to repeat the story of Mary Norton, as a
contrast to those cases we so often meet with in
which those who have been reared in luxury are
brought down by sudden changes of fortune, and
compelled to drink the bitter waters of adversity.
Such is often the result of pride or perversity, and
comes' upon its victims as a just judgment. But
so beautiful an illustration of the care which Pro-
vidence takes of those who put their trust in God I
have seldom met with and the longer
,I have
known my new friena Mary Wiley, te more I
have admired the way by which she has been led
through the paths of simple duty, and a long way
of self.denying labor to the affluence and influence
that virtue only either merits or can appropriately
enj M o y.y
friend Manton I often meet at Mr. Wiley's,
where Ellen is spending a few months, and he
frequently insists, as we aro walking home, that
Ellen is the finest woman of the two. He thinks
so, and lem half disposed to believe that he is
right. If Manton did not think so, and does not
soon tell her so too, old as I ant 1 verily believe 1
will. believe
lie llunc m .
THE BRIG= Box.—Master—Well, my boy, yo
slipped up.' didn't you
Boy—No. I slipped down.
Maater—Well, stand up by the stove and dry
Boy—lfow can I stand, unless I stand up?
Master—Take your scat, you blockhead.
Boy—l can't take my scat, it's nailed down.
Master—You can set down, can't you ? (giving
him a wipe over the head.)
Boy—(Going to his seat) No; I'm not a lien—r
warn't made to set.
Master—Now sit up there, and aUend to your
Boy—Sit. yr ; I should like to see a feller sit
rrr Master—Vold your tongue.
(Boy runs his tongue out and grabs it with his
fingers. Master calls out .. first class" to read, and
the scene closes.)
A VOIJCIIER.—A man once went to purchase a
bone of a Quaker.
Will be draw well?" asked the buyer.
"Theo will be pleased to see lain draw," said
The bargain was closed, and the farmer tried his
horse, but he would not stir. lie returned.
• That horse will not draw an inch."'
• I did not tell thee bewould draw friend," said
the Quaker. " I only remarkedAbatAbee would be
pleased to nee bim draw; and se arpuld I, but ho
would never gratify me in tkat respect"
HAIM MARRIED.--An English paper contains the
following bit of information; at the same time a
bit of warning to all those who are liable lobe in a
like situation:
Not long since, while a marriage ceremony was
in progress, a most amusing circumstance occurred
which completely put a stop to the performance at
a most interesting part of it, and sent the disap
pointed maiden and her anxious lover two different
ways, any thing but rejoicing. It appears *Lithe
young couple had gone separately to the - 61Iffirch,
for the purpose of being made one. The ceremo
ny went on well enough until the minister came to
the words—" With this ring I thee wed t " when
the bride, essaying to take her glove off her maiden
hand for the last time, could not effect it.
Whether it was agitation or heat, nervousness
or perspiration, the leather clung to her hand as
man ought to do, and would not part company. The
bride blushed end pulled; the bridegroom (bold
man V; laughed outright ; so did the father; so did
the mother; so did the spectators, except the cler
gyman, and lie exclaimed,. I did not come here to
be laughed at ; " and shutting the book, left the
ceremony half finished, the glove half off. It is
happily added, however, apparently for the infor
mation of all who may sympathize with the (limp
pointed fair one, that she tried the -next day with
more success. That time she went to church with
gloveless hands, and the nuptial knot was tied,"
tight as a glove."
FORMATION OH llattw. e, afessor Steve!ley, at a
meeting of the British Association, read a paper on
meteorological phenomena, in which he attempted
to account for the formation of hail, by supposing
that it must be formed when after the fall of some
rain, a sudden and extensive vacuum being caused,
the quantity of calorie abstracted was so largo as
to cause the rest of the drops to freeze into ice balls
as they formed. This principle, he said, had been
strangely overlooked, although, since the days of
Sir John Leslie, every person was familiar with ex
periments on a small scale illustrative of it. He
also said that the interesting mine of Chemnitz, in
Hungary, afforded an experimental exhibition of
the formation of hail on a magnificent scale. Ia
that mine the drainage of water is raised by an en.
gine, in which common air is violently compressed
in a large cast iron. vessel. While the air is in a
state of high compression,, a workman desires a
visitor to hold his hat before a cock which he turns;
the compressed a ir.,as it rushes out over the surface
of the water within, brings eat:eon= with it, which
is frozen into ice bolts by the cold generated by the
air as it expands ; end these shoot through the hat
to the no small annoyance of one party, but to thus
infinite amusement of the other.
Warwick, an English lecturer, gives an interesting
comparison of the amount of nutriment contained
in difilrent vegetable and animal substances, and
the time for their digestion. Of vegetables, he con
siders that beans contain most nutriment. As to
animal substances, he remarked that mutton con
tained 29 per cent- of nutriment;beef 26, chicken
25, pork 24, cod and sole 21, haddock 18, &c. As
to digestion, boiled rice occupied an hour, sago an
hour and forty-6ve minutes, tapioca and barley two
hours, boiled cabbage four hours, oysters two and
a half hours, salmon four hours. Venison chops
one and a half—mutton three—beef three—roost
pork five and a qparter—raw eggs two—soft boiled
eggs eight—hard ditto, three and a half.
PorrNr.—ln an English book upon the sub
ject of adulterations of food and drink which re
cently came under our observation we find the sub
joined account of the materials employed to manu
facture an imitation of Port wine :—Twenty.four
galluna of cider, six gallons of elderberry juice,
four gallons of Port wine, one gallon and a half of
brandy, one pound of logwood, and twelve ounces
isinglass,dissolved in a6gallon of the cider. Bung
i► down, and in two months it will be fit to bottle,
but should not be drunk till . the next year. From
this the habitual toper may be enabled to glean
some idea of 'the villainobs stuff which he itisome
tithes called ' upon to put into his stomach, under
the appellation of wino, or brandy. ,
MAKING IT STRONG. -A newly imported Irish girl
was engaged at service in Now York, recently,
and on the third day of her servitude she came to
her mistress before breakfast and 'engulfed " how
the meals pleased the lady ?" "'Why do you ask
Biddy ?" " Because, mem, the brixfiel will be beth.
er to•day." How so?" " Di:ought the coffee
and my was too wake, meaelf, foryino laisyshiy,
so I jist mixed 'em together, to Make 'em stronger,
me lady." Her mistress went into hysterics.
sometimes given to pleasantry. Journeying 'east
on one occasion, attended by two of his tuda,he
asked some young ladies at a hotel where he break
fasted, how they liked the appearance of his young
men. One Of them proMptly replied, "We cannot
judge of the stars in the presence of the sun:"
U'We once heard oft young lady who said there
were but two things, which, on looking over her
past life she regretted ; end one of these was that
she did not eat more cake when her sister Fanny
was married
Probably the other was, that it-wasn't her wed
ding cake, instead of Funny's. " 'Biddeford
Tux Pactsix.—ln the East, they suppose the
phoenix to have filly orifices in his bill, which are
continued to his tail; and that after living one
thousand yeas*•, he builds himself a funeral
sings a melod lOUS air ardifferent harmonies through
his fifty organ-pipes, flaps Isis with a velocity that
sets fire to the wood, and censuses himself.—Rich.
Borst arm SHIPS Couvaturn,--If the invention
of a ship was thought so noble, which carrieth
riches and commodities from place to. place, and
consociateld the most remote regions in participa.
tion of their fruits, how much more arc letters to
be magnified, which, as ships, piss through the vast
seas of time, and make ogee so distant participate
of the wisdom, illuminntione, and inventions, the
one of the other !—Lard Bacon.
henry IV., of France, one day reached Amiens,
after a long journey. - A. local orator was deputed
to harangue him, and commenced with a very long
string of epithets: "Very great sovereign, very
good, very magnanimous— " And also," inter.
rupted the king, " very tired."
DECIDEDLY MAAN.—A woman who pule 'lees
aborteuing in tho under crust of a pie than in the
upper. So we think.
0 - Blessed are the orphan children ; for they,hate
no mother to spank, them.
Z — Bleattod are they that do - not advertise ; ler
they shall rarely be troubled with customers.