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t J - I ^ • I Wdmei? (Hwto iemo TEEMS-$2^ A YEAR. ;“ W b e r ty, F r o tfirB n r , a n d E q a a l i t y ’^ II 50 IN ADVANCE. VOLUIIE IJ. HEREIMER, ¥EDIESDAf JIORIIIR, MAI 11, 1853. IIBIBER 36. p^erRtm er e^ountfi M z m Q tm t PtrefesHED EVERT -WEENESD a T SCORKIKS A t BEerfeimer, D erb.. C o ., IV. ROBERT EARL, 1 „ C , C. W ITHERSTINE,! R^ o ^ siexoes . TERM S .—^The Democrat ■will be left a t the residence o f village subscribers at .§2,00 a year. Mailsubscribers, $2,00 per year, or >$1 50 in advance. ' _ ___________ _ R a t e s o f A d v e r tisin g . One square or less, one insertion^. . .$0 50 Each subsequent insertion, ........... . 0 25 le square 3 months, ........... .. .......... 3 00 square 6 m o n ths, . .................... .. 6 60 square one year, . ........................ 8 00 A liberal deduction -vvillbe made tothos Cr;i*A libel wRoadvertise by the year. BOOK AND JOB PRINTIN& , executed with neatness n reasonable terras. In all its branches, e and dispatch, and on n and Boston, w ill be duly SELECT PfllTM. LITTLE MARY. Listen, mother, there is music. Tender music soft and low; And the child,iild, soo fondond andnd loviioving. s f a l Stayed her little footstep’s roving, As she murmured, let me go. In the mournful Autumn requiem wers are fading, Angel voices seem to s “ Earthly buds and flo' W e are w a iting, come aw a y .’ Through the glad ant! glorious summer. When the morning hours were bright, I have watch->d in fragrant bowers, Peeped in buds, and leaves, and flowers. For the sweet-voiced angel’s light— While I sought in vain to find it. They ■were calling come away— Earthly prisons cannot bind us, Why should they thy S p i r i t stay?” - THE TALE-TELLER. T H E T W O B R O T H E R S , MATRMONIAL SPECDLATIONS. BT STLVAKUS COBB, JR . “ Ned, you’re a fool!” “ Perhaps I am, Tim.” “ But I know you are.” ' “ Well, then, I hope you’ll draw a benefit from your knowledge ” “ Pshaw ! don^t he a fool, Ned.” \ How can I help it, Tim, if I am one already?” “ But there is a chance yet for re demption.” “ Then I am afraid I am in the same fix as those unfortunates spoken of in. the catechism.” “ Explain, Ned.” “ Fast redemption.” “ Now you a fool.” This conversation was between two brothers, Messrs. Timothy and Edward Barbour, and was carried on in the store of the former early one morning before customers began to flock in.— T im o th y was a dry goods merchant, just commencing business on a doubt ful capital; while Edward, the younger brother, was still a clerk with a fair salary, in a heavy jobbing house “ up town.” The circumstances that ■ had given rise to their colloquy, were ^m- ply these;—Mr. A a r o n Simpson, a re-' tired sea-captain, had received a visit from his niece, a young, fair, and wealthy heiress, whose father had died a year previous, and left her the whole of his immense fortune. There was, stopping with Captain Simpson, a young girl, who was engaged in sewing for the flair, bore to the world an index of Little Mary’s dreamy vision, Had been changed to glad fruition; When again the summer breeze Stooped to kiss the dewy leaflets. Where her tender form was laid, Angels whispered, “ we have borne her To a home where flowers ne’er fade.” Gentle mother! lowly bending O’er a little loved one’s tomb, , Why shouldst thou be sadly weeping? She thou lovest, is not sleeping In the cold earth’s silent gloom; A glad mission has been given To thine angel-child on high, And she waits to guide thy spirit To a home above the sky. ling trees, family, who, though her occupation seemed so humble, was possessed of all the graces that adorn the true wo man. The father of the young gentle men, when living, had been an intimate friend of Captain Simpson, and conse quently both Timothy and Edward irequent and welcome visitors A bursting into greenness, • A waking as from sleep, A tw-kter and a warble, That makes the pulses leap; A sense of renovation. Of freshness and of health, A casting off of sordid fear, A carlessness of wealth. A watching as in childhood, For the flowers that one by one Open their golden petals To woo the fitful sun; A gush, a flash, a gurgle, A wish to shout and sing, As filled with hope and gladness,. We hail the vernal Spring. SLsflJS 0 f 'NeflJ ITorfe—By Authority, it the State on and not before the twentieth day af- ir the day of its final passage, as certified i>y the Sec retary of State.—Sec. 12. title 4, chap. 7,..part l ,E e - vised Statutes.] ' . [Every Laiv so piiMished in the State Paper, may be read in evidence from the paper in which it shall be contained, in all courts of Justice in this State, and in all proceedings before any ofdccr, body or board, in CuArjER 52; ^ AN ACT requiring Canal Superintendents to publish monthly abstracts of their official disbursements. Passed .March 25, 1853; The People o f the State o f Xfew-Tork, represented in Senate and Jissembly do enact as follows: § 1. It shall be the duty o f each canal super intendent o f this State, on or before the 15th day of each month, to publish in some news paper printed in any county thro'ugh which any part o f his section of the canal shall pass, an. abstract of his official disbursements, during the preceding month, stating therein the name and residence of the person to who paid money, and the amount paid t< for labor, the number ceed the sum of $15 to be regulated and fixed by the auditor of the canal department, maybe paid by such superintendent out of public moneys in his hands, the expense thereof to be included, in and published in his next ab stract of official disbursements. § 2. Should the canal superintendent be un able to procure the publication as aforesaid for the sum mentioned, then it shall be h is duty to make and file such abstract in the county clerk’s office in the county in which be shall reside, or in the town clerk’s office in the town through which his section of the canal shall pass, as the said auditor shall direct. § 3, The auditor of the canal department shall escribe the form of such abstract and cause accessary blanks to be printed and setit to superintendent, together with such in- ctions for publication or filing as will he necessary to insure uniformity in the same. J 4. Immediately after the publication or filing such abstract in the county or town clerk’s office, he shall transmit to said auditor a certificate to the effect, that the same has been filed -or published according to law, in which he shall state the aggregate amount of such abstract, the form of which certificate shall also be prescribed by said auditor, $ 5. Said abstract so filed shall be subject to the inspection of the public at all reasonable oifice hours. J G. This act shall take effect immediately. the nec! the CI?*Fa3biQti is tfle race o f tfle Hdfl to .get away from the poor, who follow 85 fast as they ceq» liness of her soul, and if sfle will say yes to my suit, then she becomes my wife. As long as I have two hands with which to earn an honest livelihood, I will not sell myself for an indepen dence.” “ Then go your own way,” said Tim othy with a show of offended pride; “ but mark m'e, Ned, if you marry that girl, you may not bxpect to visit me in her company, for I will not subject Arabella to the mortification of de scending to the.association of one who has been a servant in her uncle’s fami ly.” “ Just Ss youi please,” calmly an swered the younger brother, as he put on his glbles and turned to TIith such Sr wife-as I ifesire, I shallmbtbe unj- der the necessity of seeking enjoyraetof abroad. I want a wife for my own fireside, not for yours.” As Edward spoke, he left his broth er’s store to seek his own place o f la bor; and Timothy, with a half-uttered oath upon his lips, went to work ar- arranging bis unpaid stock of goods.\ It was a cold evening, and a search ing wind bore upon its bosom vast clouds of fallling snow-flakes, as they went sweeping through the streets; but within the spacious parlor of Capt. Simpson, this outward show of stern old winter Served only to add a charm to the well-filled grates, and make the in mates more happy and contented in their comfortable quarters. Upon the stool at the piano sat a young lady, who might have seen twenty summers, or perhaps fwenty-fiye. The jewelry that flashed and' sparkled upon her wrist, ^ fingers, neck, ears bosom, and wealth. She was rather tall, but she bore herself with a graceful ease, and her form was rather symmetrically fair. Such was Arabella Forbush, a niece of Captain Aaron Simpson, a belle, and a beauty. Nearer the fire-place, and by the side _ _ of a work table, sat another female, at the mansion oF tUo, nlfl §ea Captain, whose age was more palpable than the Timothy had seen the magriiSSem'Ar-. .... Timothy had seen the magri abella .Eorbushj Captain Simpson’s her appearance, wasDy oy niece, arid he believed himself to be She could not have seen more than’ deeply in love with her; While Edward,' the younger and less presuming broth er, did not hesitate fo avow that he loved the fair Lizzie Florence; Who on ly made shirts and pillow-cases. “ .Tou may think me a fool,” said Edward in reply ta his brother’s last remark, “ but will you tell me where^ in?” Wherein!^' uttered Timothy,bran dishing a yard stick by way of empha sis. “ Why, did you not tell me that you thought of proposing to that ser vant of Captain Simpson’s !” I told you, Tim, that I would make Lizzie Florence my wife, if I thought she would accept me.” “ Yes, so I understood y o u ; Lizzie Florence—servant, sewing girl, drudg ing for a living, a pretty wife, truly !” Serves those who pay her, I sup pose, the same as you and I do,” cool ly remarked Ned. “ Serves m. fiddlestick!” petulently re torted Tim, If you think bf marry ing at your age ------ ” “ Only a year and a half younfit than^ourself,” interrupted Ned, with A smile. Then you had belter wait untilyou have'gained that j^ear and half’s ex perience, Ned, and, perhaps,\ then you wouldn’t be so anxious to throw your self away,” “ I don’t think I should even then be willing to sell myself to an heiress.” Bdh f Trash exclaimed Tim, finding that there was a weight at both ends of the beam. “ Just look at the girl I shall have—with a cool half mil lion, egad! I know she loves me.— What a magnificent creature I Did you notice her small white hands, Ned?” I noticed the big rings she piled on to them.” equivocally returned Ned. “ Five hundred thousand dollars!’’ shouted Tim, as he swung his yard stick more furiously. “ And are you knocked down to Ara* bella Fotbtish at -that price, body and soul?” said Ned, as he buttoned up his coat. You’re a fool, Ned, a consummate fool, and you show it in every word you utter. Here you are, twenty-four years old, with only a salary of a thousand dollars, and talk of marrying a poor seamtress. How’ll you ever get into business with such a weight on your hands ?” If I wished to hurry into business I could do as you have done-^go in on credit,” replied Ned. “ But I shall have a wealthy wife to help me on, while you will be forever drudging, uttered Tim, with a spice of tartness in bis tone. Then chan^ng his manner to one of earnest meaning, he continued, “ I am in earnest, Ned J I do not wish to see you disgrace your self by such a marriage. Miss Florence is pretty enough to look at, but she is not fit for your wife.” “ Look ye brother,” said Edward, while a flush of indignation mantled his handsome features, “ If-it is degra- I ding to be honest, upright, intelligent, !t kind, virtuous and lovely, then Lizzie *■' Florence is so ; but in my oivn heart I bfive a monitor, that guides my actions, and I assure you that no words of yours can turn me from its monition. I love Lizzie Florence for th^ truth und loye- if not so dazzling in .ppearauce, was eighteen summers, and the years that had rolled over her head seemed to have left all the warmth and sunshine of their season upon her brow, with none of its chilly frost. Such was Liz zy Florence, a young orphan girl, wlio had been for a month in the family of Captain SimpsOn, and was doing some sewing for the family. At the present time, however, she was engaged in look ing over the pages of a magazine. Around on the other side of the grate from where sat Lizzie, reposed within the depths of a capacious stuffed chair, the form of old Captain Aaron Simpson, a merry old fellow, who had ^ent the meridian of his days in up and downs of ocean life, and who had settled down with a competent fortune to enjoy him self as best he could. He loved life for the joys it gave him, and he. was never more happy than when he Telfe that he was imparting flappiness to others. ‘Iliizzio,” said the old mah, who had been regarding the' fair girl -for full ten minutes, “ wjiat are you doing with that book I’’' “JBook?”^ Repeated Lizzie, looking up from a page of advertisements ; “ 0 , I’m just Woking it over.” “ Over, ie it?” returned the old man, with a meiiYy’•ort of twinkle in his eyes. “ You’ve been looking at the same page for the last ten minutes. And I’m afraid, Lizzie, that there is- something else on your mind beside books.” “ Yes j’our kindness in giving me a home,” responded the fair girl with a bright smile upon her face—“ That rests Upon my mind.” “ My fiddlestick!” uttered the old man. “ I believe you are thinking of that young—” Captain Simpson said no more, for at that moment Lizzie sprang from her chair and clapped her hand over his mouth, uttering as she did so, “ Stop, sir, I shan’t allow you to take liberties with my private affairs, even though I he for the present dependent upon your bounty.” A servant at that moment announced Messrs. Timothy and Edward Barbour, who entered the room and was received b / the old man wiih that kindness which marked the reception of all his friends, while the young ladies express ed an equal pleasure in tfaevisit, though they showed it somewhat differently.— Arabella paraded herself magnificently, smiled bewitchingly, and did not fear to speak her pleasure in words, while ■ Lizzie, with feelings too deep for out ward show, only blushed as she re* suraed her seat at the work table. The evening had passed half away. Mr. Timothy Barbour and Miss Arabel la had been saying all sorts of fine tuings about music, poetry, &c., while Edward had spent most of his time in a conversation with Captain Simpson. The old man talked of ships, storms, rocks, and foreign ports, 'and angn he would listen to some of his yonpg friend’s, upon business matters, such as stocks, stores, markets, etc. Liz^zie, all this time, remained an almost silent member of the social company. Now Captain Simpson’s parlors were very long. Timothy and Arabella were by the street windows, and at the other end of the apartments there were also windows, situated in deep tapestri ed alcoves. At length Lizzie arose from Jier seat at the table, -and went to one o f the windows, where she seated; herself^'un an ottoman. Why she should have done that, it is impossible to tell, for thecottonmn in that recess was not half §^o comfortable a seat as had .^t»een the e'asy chair by the fire which she had left. The next move ment was made by old Simpson, who, witBotft a word of farewell, put up helnr and sailed out of the room. Edward gazed about him for a mo ment after he was thus left alone,' then with a sudden impulse he started from his chair and went to the recess, where sat Lizzie Florence. ^ Trhmbling, he seated himself b y her side, and seeming jto-follow-Up the p>lan he had i n view, ^he took one o f her hands unresistingly lyithin his own. “ Miss Florence,” he said, his heart fluttering the while as though it would if -^possible prevent his utterance, “par don me if i put to”you a* question, up on* tha'answe'r-to which may depend much of tho happiness of nty life.^’ Lizzie made no reply | she let her hand remain a prisoner, and she ire n- bled violently.' Edward, gained cour- ;e and continned, “ Something tells me that the dearest wish of my heart will not he crushed. I love you Lizzie, with-a firm and ar dent love that springs from an honest heart. Can you return that love ?— Will you be mine ?“ “ Not now, Edward, murmured the fair girlj One- as poor as-myself would I fear, provO a hard weight upon your rising fortune. There are others more wealty, who might—” , .Lizzie hesitated as she -spoke, and Edward .felt a warm tear drop upon his hand. He answered eagerly. “ Oh, lay not upon my heEirf such a sin as that. My soul knows. not how to barter its love I I have not rushed blindly into this fond hope. I have stu died my prospects, ^nd I know I can sup port a happy home. I cannot make it magnificent, but it shall be above want, and with your happy, joyful presence- to make’glad ftiy heart and lead me to the altar of Christian perseverance, my hearthstone shall glow with a blissful spectacles and bis eyebrows at the the Saifle time, making no further re- . “ Yes sir;’’ resumed Timothy. “ The fact is, our marriage relation has been so short that I feel a little delicacy in broaching the matter to my Wife at present; but just how I am sadly in want of n small sum o f money, to help me over a business pinch.” “ D ’ye want to borrow some o f me?” bluntly asked Simpson. “ 0 ho, f —I—ahem—merely wished you to break the ice for me.” “ Break the iCe ?” “ I mean that you should broach the matteir to‘my wife,” said Timothy, breathing more freely, now the cat was out. '» — ” ^ “ Why, really, my deaf sir,” return ed the old man, “ I have nothing to do with your wife’s property I ” “ But you might hint the subject to her my dear’Captain. A few thousand would answer me—say six thousand.— I think that will be sufficient.” “ Six thousand what 1 “ Why, sir, six thousand dollars to be sure.” “ Whaf from your Wife ?” “ Why not ?” • “ Why not ? Why simply because I don’t believe She owns six thousand I” “ Captain Simpson I beg you will not trifle with me, sir,” uttered Timothy, trembling and turning pale at the fear ful suspicion that flashed upon him.” , “ By no means sir,” resumed the man, in a tone that carried conviction with it. “ I mean what I say when I tell you your wife is not worth of her own estate, over four thousand dollars!” , “ Death and fury i’* exclaimed the astonished bridegroom, leaping from his chair, and clenching his hands.— “ Then I have been most basely deceiv ed !” . . - Deceived ? Mr. Barbour, How, ' what has' deceived you ?” “You Sir. Everybody s ir!” uttered the excited man. “ I wa$ led to be lieve that my wife was worth half a learthstone shall glow with i iapplj^SSV'-- ---- Lizzie Florence’s eyes sparkled in their happy light, and in tones .frank and fearless she answeredi? “ As I am you have loved met—As I am, yours.” ^ “ Ned,” said Timothy, as on the next morning the younger brother entered the store, “ I am the happiest naan a- live. I have pressed my suit, and the beautiful Arabella has promises to be mine/’ “ Then jf wish you joy of your con quest,” quietly rejnarkedEdward, “and if you look for your only joy in gold ydn will surely have plenty of it.” To be sure I w ill!” exclaimed Tim othy, as he rubbed his hands in the ex uberance of his satisfaction. “ And now, Ned, I advise you to drop that foolish whim about your Jove for Cap tain Simpson’s girl, and pick up a wife that is worth something. There is Mar^aret^Mortimer, with thirty thou sand at least—then thef^ is either of Mrs. Fitzeross’ daughters, both rich, and they are both for you. But you won’t make a hit like mine. Only, think ! S a i f a million /” Mortimer!—Fitzeross!” uttered hid- ward in a tone of contempt. “ I am as fortunate as yourself. Lizzie Flor ence has promised to become my wife.” • “ Edward Barbour, are you in ear nest ?” “ Timothy Barbour, I am.” “ Then go and marry her. But don’t hang upon me. As you have thrown yourself away, you may take care of yourself as best you can.” “ Timothy,” said the-younger broth er, in a tone of heartfelt pain, “ this is unkind. When you first entered into business, 1 took my four thousand dol* lars—my little all—from the bank ahd lent it to you. I have asked you neith er bonus nor interest; and, now though I never will ask of you pecuniary«aid, yet I would ask your kfndness, and your good will.” “ You need not twit me because .you lent me money,” returned Timothy in an angry tone. “ As soon as I am mar ried, you shall be paid with interest in full, but I never will—” Edward Barbour did not stop to hear the remainder of his brother’s remarks, but with a sorrowful countenance he turned away and left the store. One month had passed away, and Arabella Forbush had become the wife of Timothy Barbour, merchant. ^ It was evening, and within the sumptuous parlor o f Captain Simpson the well fill ed grate sent forth its welcome warmth. The old Captain was there, in his big easy chair. Within the b angings of one of the alcove windows were ensconced. The old man was just turning over the paper when* one of the servants an nounced Mr. Timothy Barbour, who-in a Moment more entered the r0om.-«- Edward and Lizzie would have left their place’of unintentional conceal ment, but an instinctive dislike to being se ^ by the visitor, prevented. “ Mr. Simpson,” said Timothy, in a somewhat tremulous manner; after the rivilities of the evening had been OX- changedi “ I have called, upon you Oh a rather peculiar, an(i I May say, “delicate business^” Ah, uttered the old man, raising his husbands, arc killed. million of dollars!” • “ Really, sir, X^donrt see how you could, have\ ehlertained such an idea,” said Capt. Simpson without betraying anger at his visitor’s manner. “ I will tell you how, sir. The world was given to understand., that your niece was wealthy, and you have suf fered them to think^ so. You knajg,. that was the impressioh, and yet did not contradict it.” “ Whew !” came from the old man’s lips’in a prolonged whistle. “ Now I believe I begin to see through it. Oho, that’s i t ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Why, Tim othy you have caught the wrong fish I It’s my other niece that is salted down with half a million of dollars !” “ Your other niece ?” gasped Timo thy catching at a chair for support and gradually sinking into it. “ Yes sir, my other niece. That little witch of a Lizzie Florence is the golden niece !” “ Your sewing girl,” faintly articula ted Timothy. “ Sewing .flum-a-diddle I” responded the old man with an energetic expres sion. “ She tried to sew herself out of the company of those who wanted noth ing but her money, and I think she has succeeded. • Timothy, had you asked me, or had you even asked Arabella, concerning her fortune, you would have learned the truth, but it seems that you have been steering the wrong course. “ Arabella and Lizzie are both my nieces, and though I must admit that, for her own benefit, Miss Florence has practiced a little deception, yet your wife has not. If you have been deceived it was by your own cupidity!” With a trembling step and a bowed head, Timothy Barbour left the house. “ O, Lizzie!” uttered Edward, as his brother had gone, “ it was not right to deceive Me thus!” And will you love me less now that you find yourself deprived of incessant toil in my behalf I” archly asked the fair girl, as she cast a look of melting tenderness into the face of her com panion. . !S One of the first acts bif the gentle ^Lizzie, after her marri^||^ with Ed ward, was to bestow upon Arabella a magnificent gift, meant of course, as a delicate token from the younger to* the elder brother. Timothy received, its benefit—he knew from whence it came, and he lived to be a wiser and a better (O^ There are three kinds o f men in this world—‘the “ will’s,” the “ wonfs,’* and the “ cant’s.” The former effect everything, the other oppose everything, the latter fail in everything, “ I will,” builds our Rail Roads and steamboats; “ I wen’t^” doh’t believe in experiment s and nonsense ^ .while “ I can’t^* grows weeds for wheat, and commonly ends his days.in-the slow digestion of a court of Edward Barbour and Lizzie Florence., bankruptcy. ^ O NB DF t h e D a SK Pt,XcBS%j0F THE IlAvtAnry Yt sionary Mnongaue Feejees, wno. are cannibals * Of. the ' description, states that fibO persons have bfen eat en in five yearaf, within fifteen* miles of hin residence.. SoiBt o f ifiem ^eat raw human fiesb^ and chew it as SOTlora do tobaccQ. They eat their best friends. When parents grow Old they are killed by‘ their children. •Sometimes they are buried 'idive . or tfirhwn /to the sharks.' Wofoen, on the deatfr of their MISCELLANY. . ^P O W E E OF KINDNESS. “ Fom !—here !” said a father to his boy, speaking in tones of authority. The iad was at play. He looked towards his father, but did not leave his companions. “ Do you hear me, sir?” spoke the father, more sternly than at first. With an unhappy face and reluctant step the boy left his play and approach ed his parent. “ Why do 3 'on creep along ajt a snail’s pace?” s'aid the latter angrily. “ Come quickly, I want you. When I speak, I look to be obeyed instantly. Here, take this note to Mr. S ------ , and see that you don’t go to sleep by the . way.— Now run as‘fast as you can go.” The boy took the note. There was a cloud upon his brow. He moved away but at a slow pace. “ You Tom ! is that doing as I or dered? Is that going quickly?” called the father, when he saw the boy creep away. “ If you are not back in half an hour I will punish you.” But the words had but little effect.— The boy’s feelings were hurt by the Unkindness of the parent. He experi enced a sense of injustice; a conscious ness that wrong had been done. By nature he was like his father, proud and stubborn; and these qualities of his mind were aroused, and'he indulged in them, fearless of consequences. “ I never saw such a boy,” said the father, speaking to a friend who had ob served the occurrence. “ My words scarcely made an impression on him.” “ Kind -words-often prove most pow erful,” said the friend. The father looked surprised. “ Kind w o r d s,” continued the friend; “ are like the gentle rain and refresh ing dews ! but harsh words bend and break like the angry tempest. The first develope and strengthen good af fections, while the others sweep dyer the h e a r t in-devastation, and m a r and fieforni all they touch. Try him with kind words; they will prove an hun dred times more powerful.” ’The , father seemed hurt by the re proof ; but it left him thoughtful. 4-u hour passed away ere hisT)oy returned. At times during his abserice he was an gry at the delay and meditated the in- ^fliction of cuttishment. But .the words frfremonstraneq were in hi8 ear.s, and h e r e s o lv e d ' t o o b e y th e m . At last the lad came slowly in with a clouded countenance, and reported the result of his errand. Having stayed far beyond bis time, he looked for pun ishment, and was prepared to receive it with an angry defiance, v To bis sur prise, after delivering the message he had brought, his father, instead of an gry reproof and punishment, ^ id kind ly, . ^ “ Very well, mj son|*^y<M’^can g o out to play again.” r ^ ' The boy went out, but. was' not hap py. He-had disobeyed-and disobliged his father, and the thought of this troub led him. Harsh words had not cloud ed his mind, but aroused a spirit of reckless anger. Instead of joining his companions he went and sat down by himself, grieving over his act of diso* hedience. As he thus sat, he heard his name called. He listened. “ Thomas, my son,” said his father* kindly.. •Fhe boy sprang to his feet, and was. almost instantly beside his parent. “ Did you call, father?” “ I did my son. Will ypu take this package to Mr, L ------ for me?” There was no hesitation in the boy’s anner. He looked pleased at the thought of doing his father a service, and reached out his hand for the pack age; On receiving it, he bounded away A n OLD S o l d i e r .— John Skin O’Brien, an Indian Chief, one hundred years old, recently visited the Philadelphia House of Industry, with his wife and five children. He was born in Massachu setts, in the Oneida tribe of Indians.— His mother was the daughter of a chief of his tribe, his father an Irishman.— At the age of twenty-one years he was sent to Europe, to be educated as a physician, where he remained until 22 years of age. He was in Paris when Lafayette was preparing to join in the revolution and there -formed the reso lution to return and engage in its struggles. He joined the eastern di vision under Gen. Washington, and act ed as surgeon‘s mate under Dr. Com stock. He was in nearly all the bat tles of that eventful period; received tV|o wounds from balls and one from a bayonet in the chest. In thh war of 1812, be joined the army, commanded a ’Company of sharp shooters un- def-\Wikes, Pike and Brown. He is fatftlr of thirty-one children, all living, he 'hiving his third wife. His intellect is goo^-and unimpaired; he stands over six feet in height and is very athletiCi His face is handsome, and covered with a venerable beard. O “0ur old friend, Mrs. Partington, of the^ Boston Post, asks in her wellknowii sw*eet toned simplicity, if there “ isn’t some cla\Vs in the Revived sfotutes of Massachusetts against cats?” and adds; “ It seems to me there ought to bcj for my poor Paul once got terribly torn in his flesh and trowsers -hy one, and for nothing at all, either, but just sitting down on her—and the cloth cost a dol lar a yard.’’ 17^ A blacksmith was lately Slim*' ndohed to the county court, as a witness in a dispute between two of his wdrk- Etien. The Judge after hearing the testimony, dsked him why he did not advise them to settle the matter, as the cost had already amounted to thre e times the disputed sum. He' replied: to-o-ld the foo-o-Is to se-c-ttle; for i said the clerk would’ take theif CGiodts, the lawyers their shi-!-rts, and if they got into your honor’s'clutches you’d sk-i;in-’em !” g 6 i un receiving rith alight step. “There is power in kindness,” said the father, as he sat musing, after the lad’s departure. And even while he sat musing over the incident, the boy came back with a cheerful, happy face and “ Can i do anything else for you, fath- Br?” ‘ Y0S, thefe is the power of kindness; The tempest of passion can only sub due, constrain, and break; but in love and gentleness there is the power of the summer rain, the dew and sunshine. “ Fanny Fern” says there is nothing like a gentleman’s hat to take the antagonism i>ut of a bonnet. It may toss in proud defiance among wo men, but at sight o f a hat, it covers the iost meek and smiling looking face im^ aginable^ It was a maxim of Gen. Jack* son’s i “ Take time to deliberate; but when the time for action arrives, stop thinking.” 07* With a .scornfol. disregard ■ Of wealth, and the position of the moment* Almighty God 'scatter*; tho priceless gifts of genius among his children The great poet, the illustrious states man, the eloquent orator, is as likely to go forth from the brmvn faced labor: er’s cottage over the way, as froin the sumptuous palaces of the capital. • ThO future ruler of ati empire may be iw- consciously digging yonder field; and this very school May be. Under God, the appointed means of revealing his unsuspected destiny to him and the world.—FeZfon. ' ' FsaiALE C h e e r f u l n e s s .— A woman inaj be of great assistance to her hus band in business by Wearing a oheerful smilecontinualljr upon her countenancei A man’s perplexities and gloominess are increased a hundred fold when his better half wears a Continual scowl up on her brow.\ A pleasant wife is as a rainbow set in the sky. when her hus band’s mind is tossed with storm and tempests: but a dissatisfied and fretful wife in the houj-^of trouble is like one of those lowering clouds which keep us in constant di-ead of a tempest. 0O~ Revenge is a common passion ; it is the sin of the uninstructed. The savage deems it noble; but Christ’s re ligion, which is the Sublime Civilizer, emphatically condemns it. Why? Be- causa; religion ever seeks to ennoble man; and nothing so debases him as revenge* ITT\ Miss Swisshelm, in her letters • to young ladieSj says that “ every coun try girl knows how' to color fed with madder.” This we believe to be aii ethnological fact, as we have always noticed that with all girls the madder they get the redder they color.—Boston Post 07* Lord Beacon beautifully saidi “ If a man be gracious to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world, and thajt his heart is no island, cut off from other islands* but aeontinent that joins them.” 07* An Irishman, in Writing a letter to bis sweet-heart, asking if she would accept of his love or not, writes thus: “ If you don’t love me, plaze send back the letter without breaking the “ 07* Why are there no larger nut- , megs?’* “ Because the largest that ev er was, hr ever will be, has met, or will meet, a grater.—>JYew York Picayune^ 07* Wrap thyself in the decent veil that the Arts or the Graces weave for thee, 0 , Human Nature f It is only the statute of whose nakedness the eye can behold without shame and offence! A butcher’s hoy carrying a tray on his shoulder, accidently struck it against a lady’s head. “ The dues take the tray, said the 1“ Madam.” said the '\ lad gravely, “ the duce cannot take the tray.” 07^ It is confidently said that an im portant commercial treaty, securing reciprocal trade with Canada, will sopn, be perfected* 'FT* Gfio'l humer is the only shield to keep-oirihe dartPhf^ksMiricalrailen If you .-.A
