Mt. Vernon Republican (Mount Vernon, Ohio : 1854), 1855-12-11

              :-lt i"-. tt-'fr st-n-t'"." r Hr it n t - mm i TIW 8 2 00 per Junta f if paid in Afiranee, f NX). 4; OFFICE -Southwestern! ) Krsmll.) Bbok, 21 Floor. ( "IF A FREE THOUGHT SEEK EXPUESMOX, SPEAK IT BOLDLY SPEAK IT ALL." MOUNT VERNON, OHIO, TUESDAY MORNING, DECUMllEU II, 1855. VOL. II. : - Kb-az-? Jf Ji ill 1 si Irlfftrb portrq. FIRMNESS. II 1'UKBK CAUIT, Well, let lilm g. i J lt bitii stay I do nut niesn to die ; I guess he'll find lliHt 1 can live Miihuut him if 1 try, lie thought tu iriifliUii ma with frowut, fin territile and black He'll nay away a thousand years liel'ore I auk bitu back. lie taiil that I bad acted wrong, And foolishly beside ; J won't forget nim after that I wouldn't If I died, Jf 1 in wrong wb.. right had ha To bf o cnws with me t I know I'm uol an angel quite J dou't pretend to be, 'Be had another sweetheart once, And uow when we fall out, Wa alway say she wa not cros. And that she didn't pout I It is enough to vex a saint jt'a more lhan I can bear; I with that girl of hi w as-Well, 1 dou't care where. Be thiuka that she wan pretty, too Was beautiful as good ; I wonder if she'd get him back Again, uow, if she cnuld t I know she would and there she is She lives almost in sight, And now it's after nine o'clock Perhaps he's there to night. . I'd almost write to him to come-But then I've said I won't; I do not care so much, but she Shan't have him if I don't. Besides, I know that I was wrong, And he was in the right : I guess I'll tell him so, and then f wish he'd come to night 1 Irlftt Jfaelliiiu. THE WIFE'SJMST G1UEF. BT JOSEPH tt CliAKDLER, Who that has ant dona in measun less content, and enjoyed the pleasures which tull gratification supplhd, lias. not at times felt rising in the miud the piiinful inquiry. "How long will this last? What will occur to disturb the hnppsness which is now vouchsafed ?" I never had an animal to which I was particularly attached and 1 never had one from a cat to a horse to which was not strongly attached that 1 did not occasionally pause iu my use or caresses of it, and ask, "What will occur to depiive ine of it accident, escape or death?" ' In the midst of social enjoyment, when the duty of sustaining the amusement or the conversation has devolved upon another, how often trill the inquiry arts. , "How long will this last?" No sign of rupture is pr sented, no token of dissolution is b-setuable; bu. there must be a rupure, there aid lie a dissolution. How wi.l it come and when '! I confess that such anticipations are not always the tvideiicis of a well balanced mind; too often they come from a mm bid slate of feelings, that frequently produce the very evil they suggest. The anticipation of evil is iio so much the result ol unhappy experience, as the consequence of a want of aelf-sustaining power. Yeais ago it was my chance to be near a young woman, at the moment on which she was taking leave of a lover. She stood a moment and watched his departure, until by turning a e mtr he was concealed from her sight. " Can it last ?" said she to herself. "And why not ? if he loves me now, when my fetation and consiqucntly my manners are less desirable than his surely he must love me more when I have had the advantage of his association, and have constantly improved by that intercour.-e." She passed onward. I heard no other words I'Ul her steps indicated a heart at ease, or if disturbed, it was the commotion of inexpressible pit asure. Can it last? and if not, when will it fail ? How will its dimuui ion manifest it-self? These were queries which aroe in my mind often, as 1 thought of the ap-pioaching nup'ials. And once, a few days after the miirriage, I saw her leaning against the trunk of a tree which was then in full blossom. She was evidently connecting her own new estate with the lovely hopefulness of the branches above her, and as she raised her eyes again, it was evident that she was thinking of the future which was radiant with hope. For one moment a cioud seemed to pass over her face ; it was raiher of doubt than pain. She looked again at the tree and its munificence of bloom ; the cl u J passed from her face, and she came away iu evident delight.That wai a spring of disappointment, as I remember; a frost destroyed the vegta- , tion, and entirely ruined Ilia blossoms on the tree at which she had been looking. No fruit was born. It was, I apprehend, my own infirmity that led me to think of changes which might come across the path of the newly married person, than anything in her condi ion ; for though I subsequently saw where the . danger lurked, yet then it was with me only the foreshadowing of a somewhat morbid sensibility, that, failing in causes of immediate melancholly, contrived to anticipate enough to make the present gloomy with apprehensions of the future. So I watched. Blessed be the race of croakers whoso stomachs are constantly conjuring up a cloud to darken their minds, and who are too unselfish to lei any one pass 'without the benefit of their overshadowing forebodings, I wa ched this case for the first exclamation whioh I have recorded of this young woman had touched a chord of mel-ancholly in my own disposition, and so I was anxious to see "bow long it would .last;" haw long the peace, joy, and do- . mettio felicity would continue. It did not 1 seem to me lhat the disturbance could originate with her. The husband was fond of amusements ; and he kept and used a gun and some well trained dogs. But though these drew him ' occasionally from bis hone, jet the fine disposition of tha wife found tu the dumb hut sagacious con paniona of her liubaml, uhji'Oi of icg.rd. She learned to like, tin ni, and. as became tin ir gentle na ure they loved her, joyed in her wests, and ei med to have a sober resolve Iu watch over her safely, and to secure it even a the cost of their lives. I confess lhat I was disappointed at this, having anticipated lhat the liiti r of dugs would have disturbed the iqunnimiiy of the wife, and thus provoked reprisa's from the husband. It was nut long before tome event I think it was the ordinary result of "security," the miserable pride of trying to make one's self consideiable in jeopardising the p. ace and comfort of a Umi'y by going "stcuiiiy" for a man, in whom others could not have had confidmce, or they would not have asked security that swept Irom the husband a considerable portion of the propertv which had made his condition belter than the wife's before marriage."And here," said I, "it will cense to last." I hope that my feelings were of the right kind; 1 think now lhat they are only those of curiosity. Some people seem to desire an evil lhat they have foietold I think I only deiired to know how the loss of nronertv was to affect the wife. Her husband was the first to tell her of the misfortune. "I am sorry, my dear," said the quiet wife, "sorry indeed. It will compel you to do much of ti e work which you have hitherto hired others to do. Do not let the loss of your property mortify you nor suffer yourself to dwell on the error, if it w is an error, of the act by which the lots occurred. . "But you you, my dear wife " "It will not," said she, "essentially af fect me ; it will not add to n labors or anxiety. I must look after the household affairs whether we have one farm or two." The wife shed no tears. She was sor rv 'hat her husband should lose the social distinction consequent upon some property more than oihers possessed ; but it was a pardonable feeling in her, that (he loss of property placed her more upon his level, and lemuved something of the appearance of ditieience between tin m. Tnis tin n was not much of grief. "It lasted yet " The sudden death of the first born child abi nuliul boy, was the mxt. disturbing cause. 1 was not in the hou-e during the short sickness of the child, but I attended the funeral, and followed the body fiom the antique house of mourning to the churchyard. When the clods fell upon the ceflin I thought the I eart of the mother would have burst. She leaned over (o look down Into the. resting pUce of her child, and the arm of a friend seemed necessary to prevent her from "going un.o him " And I said, "It lasts no lonser." The fii n l and neighbor led her buck: to In r husband. The gentle look of a Ave- meed. tionate s mpaihy which on gave In r as he She had felt as a woman regret for the placed In r arm within his, and drew her loss of property the mother had mourn towards him that she m'ght lean on his ed ihe death of her child and anxie y had manly strength, showed me my mistake, been ft It for some slight errors in her lius The mother had suffered, but the affec- bind; but property could be leg' Led by linr., n ty, the happiness of the wife was lab ur, or relinquished without eflorl complete. every dream of the mother gave back to Could a mother he happy returning from her heart her beloved child and refreshed the yet unsodded grave of her only child ? with a spiritual intercourse; and eveiy Death had softened her heart and fitted waking thought that tuine.1 towards the it for the ministrations of new affection. dead one, was lustrous with the sense of The father had sufl'eied in the death of the his heavenly intercourse, and consoling in boy as well and as much as she, and yet the promise of a future union the errors at the moment of deepest anguish he had of a husband, lhat do not imply dishonor, hushed his own griel lhat he might sustain nor exhibit themselves as evidences of her in her sorrow. The molhtr mourned, warning affection, may be mended or en-but the wife njoicid. How beautiful and dured; but when the heart is suddenly beau ifyingfor the moment hail sorrow be- overwhelmed wilh the evidences of shame, come. It se med lo me as if affection had insult, dishonor; when all the purity of never before possessed such charms ; it woman's thoughts is outraged with the needed affliction to make it apparent, as proofs of guilt, and all the years of her the sunlight pouring through devices in- charity and enduring love are dishonoured to a darkened chamber becomes visible by the unerring tokens of ingratitude and only by the floating particles that reflect infamy, and the confiding, the consoling, the ingushing rays. the truthful wife becomes the witness of Ihe The affair of the couple were not so destiuction of her domestic peace, despair prosperous as the virtues, tho industry, sweeps over the heart, like the blasting of the economy, and the womanly excellence Ihe simoom ; and then, all the cherished of the wi e set med lo deserve, yet she sorrows of the daughter, all the poignant never n pined. I think one or two instan- anguish of the mother are lost, in the over-ces of excess on the part of the husband whelming torrent of "The Wife's First d ew largely upon the forbearance of the O.ief." wife, but as even the txcess was accom-l , . , panied wilh expressions of affection they, Miscellaneous Beading, though raiher maudlin, seemed to com-1 , pensnte. The feeling then was rather' 0f young men of equal capacity, slight apprehension for tho fu ure than auppose that one cccupies himself for a cer-grief for (he presen' sorrow and deep ta,n Per,od " Bhl "J'ng of a miscella-mortification might have been felt. Hut nl;ou character, and ihe other devotes the tl ee few imt nets, joined wilh rome unac- Mm llm 10 1,18 vigorous study of one or countable decay of means, did not disturb two a requiring close attention and the Happiness or the wire, a lapuinets . . . ' ' . . . ' r which seemed lo roe a perpetual joy. Was the woman apaletio ? Had she no ... r . . . scnsiuvencss Ws she made to go thro' life with a gentle laugh, and drop into the grave with a smile ? Her annuish at the d(Alh nf hir anti nrnvi.il tho nnleurv. " . The loss of property, to one win had impressions, lying in confused masses in his been poor before, seemed to produce no memory, like the threads and patches of a grief; and let the reader remember, or if r1a' Sf. while the other will have been he has not known the fact let him now learn l!,rouSb 8n B,.l,letle C0JM,e f mf nal it, that the loss of property is more bitterly ' c,P1,ne. wl,lcl' f ver7 faulty "V"l?-felt by those who have from poverty risen rated', of lbe J0,,0' OD0 book' to possession, than it is by thosj who from ay lbe L,l,n proverb He knows no inf.ncyto the disaster had always been' """to" to"' bul that he knows thor-rjcn loughly. Let me commend lo every joung The loss of property produced no grief. ' raan, who .ne,ir me, to form the habit of The death of her chUd led lo new af- 'edln8 obJ''ct. and Wlt" feotion for an enlarged joy in the bus-, concentrated attention, and not to roam band. ' - ' over a library as one strolls through His unfrenuent but still obvious depar-' Karden, piching upon books because there lure from sobriety, long unattended wilh " omeli.intf taking in their lilies, or be-mH.n... n- ,ii,l m.t nfr,.n,l .. causelho contents have an inviting loot nrXnr iu .1. ' r" . . v' she Stale, and f miv nnnii in ft Innir mortified by some low Indulgence in my i i . . J - . . . - nutoanri, bul fixed, deep, permanent griel aa a wife it is piobable I am to be spared.! aa rnmn.ri.nn nf n,. n. ...lilntinn with that of my husband shows lhat in the! course of nature I shall be soared the mis ery of aonrning for his deatb, and be saved from the solitary woes of widowhood."The losso' property rendered necessary more labour on the part ef the hosband,, and that labour kept him more from bis "It will last always," said I. " .Bu.u. ,u ...., .u,8., ,u uc. "I must moan as a mother." thought you may know other things well. It h , "I must ab.te Dortion of mr social "r 10 verJ iwiuf. wuiy. sa.u home limn former'y ; but the genile wi 1 c ime of the wife diet red the loil-worn hus band, and her delicate omsi ch' n'eil the gloom filling on his brow into m 'es of satislac ton. J here w s pernaps mr pleasuri lug. to leasure in the elfmts which she wai mak in duce the evidence of grutilica tion in her husband, than tin re was in the mere ixchanges of fmilis of welcome and thanks. Tne wife grew prou l of In r in tfuincvlo bring him back to eijojrm-nt; she felt a new consequenon when she foun I that she could not en y reciprocate smiles but dispel frowns, not only share in the Pleasures of horn but dismiss the pains, .low holy is the office of a good wife, and how pure must be her sentiments, to derive the highest gratification by producing the happiness ot another. It was late in a summer afternoon, and by appointment the husband ought to have returned two or three hours before. The noise of revelry bad for a long lime disturbed the outer edge of the village in which the dwelling was situated some vulgar frolic, hitherto kept in a distant part of the county, had been adjourned to lhat neighborhood but the way of the husband on his return did t ot lie in that course. The wife had gone out frequently to watch for his approach, and to meet him with a smile of welcome that smile which makes home delightful, which attracts and ret tins. She looked anxiously to the left, and stietchtd her eyes along the road in Lope that some token of his ap pro tcli would be presented ; tl e e was none. Even the dogs that had followed her out failed to give notice of his coming. She leaned over the railing wilh di trustless hope he would come soon, and would repay her for all her anxiety by extraordinary evidence of afHction. She summoi el up for her consolation the thou sand kindnesses of her husband, his constant, changeless love, his resistance of those errors that marred the domestic happiness of so many families ; and like a trua wife, she suffered the lustre of her own puri y, excellence, and affection, to gild the character and conduct of her husband. Sue was startled from her revery of delight and charity by an unu ual outbreak ol noisy deb lUchery from the wretched drinking-house below. She leaned forward, and stood fixed in horror at the sight. Her husband was in the midst of the lietous host, in sickening, di-gusting fa-miliaii'y with an abandoned one of her own six. She stepped back until an angel of her own house concealed from her the painful scene. A thousand previous matUrsthat had scarcely excited a thought became then of importance, in trm.explan-iiion which whs given in what she had seen. She raised her apron to her eyes, bit there I were no tears ; her hands dropped on the fence before her; a fieling came over her heart such as sl,e haJ not before ixperi nui.,.,, .,., - .in . ... s.:ii. w.,ni,i. ,.r Mai...-- r ogy, smith s Wealth of Nations, Locke's Ks8l7 on llie IIuraan Understanding, or miiJi.: ,i, .,, r :i..ii.... i -u6,v " """ "''""i itlL dunvfil hv tlm l,i l I h., trronl v in - ' 1 -J - b J - favor of the Utter. The former will have gained merely i crowd of heterogeneous I as we turn over the leans. Be content to define study than he. for no one ever stud- . ...I ,av.n- i IKa Inl.in.a mn, i .1 n . ,cu occupation of the mind, applied to some Sul) ICt with earnest ROod Will. On boUr f uch lud7 "onh dy of listless dawdliog over a shelf of books. UMard. tW The depth of Niagara River, under the Suspension Bridge, is estimated by the eneineers to be 700 feet. This we b-. liert, is deeper than any rapidly tanning stream in the world. : .. timp hf Jioe.ro; anu no man ever nau a oeurr ngni to Siitfrstiiig 3Jaruh. Wanted, A Home. Among the advertisi ments in one of our yesterday's payers, )ou might have noticed the following: "Wanted A home I r a very ni lit-Iu giil, with a Udy, where sli wouul be ins ructed in her book and si win,'. Sue will be found eerfccily useful, as she is an excellent little girl, and of decent parents. Plea-e call at 375 street, foui th door." Those who have no occasion for the si r vices of such a litlle girl, need not accompany me to the place in person. They have but to travel in mind lo 375 si. and ascending the four weary flights ol stairs, they will find themselves in a room forlorn enough, but scrupulously neat. Bare of furniture, lo be sure, and of everything, in fact, that goes to make a comfortable home, but even in its desolate con ili.ion, are the eviJ. nt marks of a gentle and refined mind. And by the one cormer window sits the mother, the presiding genius of the men gre abode. Pal and wasted to a shadow is she, and clad in the scanty, faded garb of poverty ; but about her, as about In r room, reigns that unmistakable air, which speaks the Lady not the conventional creature of fashionable life, all ll unices, feathers and folly, with a heart as hollow as her own empty cologne bottles but the lady-born, oue of natuie's gentlewoman. Patiently has she struggled with the little ones left her, the off-tpiing of the stout, young laborer, who won bur ira affections, who, after scraping together a comfortable little home, was suddenly struck don by a fatal fever, leading her to the mercies of a hard world, with four helpless young thinirs to provide for. Through all has alio worked and clothed and fed them as best she might, until the "hard times" of last winter, and the gradually increasing hard times of the present summer, have driven her up into the desolate garret. One by one of her pieces of furniture, relics of her happy home, when, theme-chanic-fathtr of Iter babies was alive, were obliged to go, and still she could not make any headway against (he cruel pressure of no money and no work which bre so badly against her. Two of the little ones, Ka ie and Jimmie, the next to the eldest and the next to the youngest, have fallen victims to disease consequent upon insufficient diet and impure air. And that they ara gone is a comfort (strange comfort) to the lonely widow. And now I-y, ("the nice little girl" of Ihe advertisement,) must go too, not to the grave, but almost as bad lo the heart stricken mother out to service.. There is no help for it, do her best, she could not make enough to pty the rent of the room mean as it is, and buy bread for the little toddling thing of two years, which they still call "tho ba y," and brea I for l.-y and herself. Sj lay must go out to s rvice. A richly dressed lady, all sa in and jew-eln, has mounted the long stairway, and puffing and pan ing, sits down in the only chair of the room lo ask the anxious mother a few questions concerning the "uice it-lie girl." The questions are hard and abrupt. The lady ohjec a to her n me ; Isabel I is not a proper ntme for a servant girl. She was named when we had pleuiy around us, and when we did not dream of her having ever to go out to service," replies ihe sighing mo her. The lady objects to the paleness and thinness of the little girl. "She will pick up and grow s'out as soon as she has proper food and enough of i'," patiently responds the tiembling mother. The lady objects to the age of the little girl. The mother sighs for an answer. But at length the lady concludes upon taking her, is unwilling, however, to pay anything for the services of so small a uirl. although she is willing to hear her read and spell "once in a while," at the same lime assuring the mother lhat "she shall be kept steady enough nt her needle." It will not do. The mother pleads for ever so little a week, and finally concludes that she cannot part with Isy, unless she can get a few shillings a wutk for her service . The stout lady rocs off in a pet, muttering about the insolenc jof "ihem that hasu't a rag to their backs." The bundle of s uin, selfishness, and lace has no sooner gone tl) an her presei.ee is supplied by a plainly dressed Qu iker lady, whose mild, sereue countenance expresses nothing but love and human charity.This visit proves a true Ood send to the needy widow. The "wanted home" is found. The little Isabel's pale cheeks will soon bloom out with the roses of health. The weary mother will find work enough to do at a fair price to keep herself and "baby." The " book" will be taught lo the young Isabel, and wholesome precept and txample taught with it. Let us bless Ood there is still some good left in the world, and let us pray that many more, like the benevolent Quaker lady, may be raised up to comfort tho downtrodden and needy. StNoiaa ik School. There is tot little attention paid to the matter of singiog in schools In most sections of our country, and paiticularly in those of the West. In fact, in a large number of our schools il is entirely neglected. This is all wrong. Children should be taught to sing as early in life as they are taught to read. Not only at home, but at school also, is the place for such training. And the school indeed ie Ihe better place I there they can vie with each other in learning and singing appropriate pieces ; and those very exercises are a stimulus to more vigorous exertions to learning their other lessons. A TBononircL Bor. The good done by exhibitions was indicated the other day at Elraira by a boy's question. ." Father." said be, "why can't we raise such apples and pears just as well aa the poor ones thai grow in oar orchard ?", Depend up on it if the father never does, thai boy will raise such fruit. He has seen that other! do, and has brgur to think, The Boy and the Tyke Il is sai I that a ic Ie bj in Holland was returning one night from a til ag, lo which he had been se.il by his father on an er rand, whin he noticed the water trickli g through a n.rrow opening in the dyke. He slopped, and ihoughl what the consequences would be if the hole was not closed. He knew, lor he had of en heard his father it-ll the sail disasters which had hap pmed tr. in small beginnings; how, in a lew hour , the opening o'd b come bigger, ud h I iu tl e iiiignty in n of water prea.-mg un the dyke, uitil the whole defense bi-ing wa-lied away, the rolling, dashing, angry wateis w.-uld swe p on to the m xt village, tie Iriiying lile, mid pu p rty, an I every thing in tin ir way. Should he run home and ularin Ihe villagers, il would he duik before ihey could arrive, and the hoi-even theu might be so large as to defy all altcmp 8 tu close it. Prompted by these thoujhu, he seated himself on the bai.k ol the canal, st ppud the opening wilh his hand, and palienily aw iied the approach of a villager. But no one came. Hour ait r hour ro I d slowly by, yet there sat ihe liero c ooy, in c ld and darkness, shir-ering, wet, and tired, but stou ly pressing his hand against the dangi rom breach All nihl he staid at his post. At las morning broke. A chrgyman walking up the canal, heard a groan, and looked around to see where it came from. "Why are you there, my child?" he asked, seeing the boy, and surprised at his strange position. "I am ke ping back the water, sir, and saving the village from biing drowned," answered the child, wilh I p-t so benumbed with cold that he could scarcely speak. The astonished minister relieved the boy. The dyke was closed, and Ihe danger which threatened hUtlJieds of lives were pre vented. Heroic boy I What a noble spirit of si lt devotedness he has shown I A heroic boy indeed he was ; and what was it sustained him through lhat lonesome night? Why, when his teeth chattered, his limbs trembled, and his heart was rung with anxiety, did he not fly to his safe and warm home? What thought bound him to his real? Was it not the responsibility of hie position Did he not determine to brave all the fatigue, the d inger, the cold, the darkness, in thi kin ' what the consequen ces would be, if he should forsake it? His mind pictun d the quiet homes and beautt ful larms of the people inundated by the flood of water, and he determined lo stay at his post or die. Now, there is a sene in which every boy and girl occupies a position of fare more weighty responsibility than that of the l'ulle Hollander, on that dark and lonesome night ; for, by the good or bad influence which you do and shall exert, you may be the means of turning a tide of wretchedness and ruin, or a pure stream of goodners in the world. God has given you somewhere a post of duly to occupy, and can nut get above or below your obligations to be faithful lo it. You are responsible for leaving your work undone. You can not ixcuse yourself by saying, "I am nobody I don't exert any influence ;" for tin re is nobody so mean or obscure lhat he has not some influence: and you have it whether you will or not, and you are responsible for the consequences of that influence, whatever it is. Speech of A. Gaston, '-the Delaware County Farmer Boy," at the Fusion Jubilee, on the lith of Sov 1865, ot Columbus. "Mister President I want to say a few words. ( Calls for Spalding ) There's no use hollaring, my friends, fur there is time enough for us all. (Laughter andap-plau-e.) Some of these men talk about bavin' Massachusetts blood in 'em. I've got as much in me as any on 'tm. (Laughter.) My mother was born in Massachusetts, right undtr Bunker Hill. (Laughter and applause.) An' my grandfather tit all through the Revolution I ( Great Laughter.) So you see I'm a full-blooded Republican. (Laughter ) feller Kepublic ins. We have just ga i. ed a most tremenduous victory. ( Laughter.) I was one of ihe Delaware Farmer Hoys what took the stump for the R pub-lion cause. I stumped it through the country, and I've now reached the Capi-lil, and you needn't be surprised to find me goiu' on to Washington n xt year. (Laughter and applause.) I've started out, and I intend lo speak for this glorious cause as long as I live, and when I die, I'll leave word for the next g nera ion to go and do likvwisn, (L iughler.) "Feller R publicans We've got a great tremendoo-ous despot to struggle wilh, a more tremendoo-ous despot than my grandfather fit agin in the Revolushun. I'm glad to be in the prime of life to fight him. (Uprorious laughter, and cries for music.) You needn't hollor, for you can't scare me. I stand six feet four inches in my shoes, an' I entend lo go into this Republican bizness my hull length. (Applause and laughter.) I thank Heaven that 1 was born in Ohio, and that I am a Delaware County Farmer boy. (Laugter.) "Feller Republicans We're on the eve of another important election, I've arranged my bizness and intend to take the alum for the Republican cause. (Applause.) I didn't want to be confined lo Ohio, ( Laughter.) I'm goin' to traverese the country, preaching to my feller critters. (Roars of laughter ) Now let me tell you how this Kansas matter t on me last spring. I'm a law abidin' citizen, and never commit high in ason ; hut when I heard about Ihem Mi-sourl ruffians in Kansas ; it made my blood bile. (Cries for Spa il J-ing snd music ) I had a notion ot doin' what my grand-father done in the Revolution I had a notion lo march into Kmsas an' commit high treason." JtJT "1 remember once," sayt Lamar-line, "to have seen the branch of a willow which had been torn from the parent trunk, floating, npon the angry surges of the overwhelming Sonne. On It a Temala nightingale still covered her nest. as it drifted down the foaming stream, and the male on the wing followed the wreck which wa bearing away the objeot of his love." The Two Heirs " ( remember." aavs the late Postmas ter General of the Uuiu d States, "the liisl lime I visited Burlington, Vt., as Judge of the Supreme Cour . 1 had left it many Tears before, a poor botr. At the lime 1 left there were two families of special no e fur their standing and wealth. Each ol litem had a son about my own age. I was v. ry poor, and these boys weie very rich. Dur ng the long years of hard toil which pasted before my return, I had almost forgotten them. Thy had long ago forgot-li n me. Approaching th Court House, for the first time, in oompany with seveial gentlemen of hrt bench and b r, I noticed, in the Court House yard, a large pile of old fur-niiuie about to be sold at auction. The seem s of early boyhood with which I was surrounded prompted me to aak whose I was. 1 was told it belong-d to Mr. J. Mr. J. ? I lemembered a family of thai name, very wealthy ; there was a son, loo ; can it be he ? 1 w is told it was ven so. He was the son of one of the families a ready allu 'ed to. He had inherited more than 1 had earn d, and sptnt it all; and now his on family was reduced to real want, and his furniture was that da; to be sold for debt. I went into the Court House suddenly, yet almost glad that I was born poor. I was soon absorbed in th.-bus ness before me. O.ie of the first cases called originated in a low drunken quarrel between Mr. H. and Mr A. Mr. H., thought I, that is a familiar name. Can it be ? In short I found that this was the son of the other wealthy man referreJ to I I was overwhelmed alike with astonishment and thanksgiving astonishmeut at the change in our relative standing, and thanksgiving that I was not born to inherit wealth without toil." Those fathers provide best for their chil dren who leave them wilh the highest ed uoation, the purest morals, and the least money. A Remarkablk Man. A correspondent of the Kentucky Slutewtan gives the following sketch of an old citizen in Pulaski coun y, named Elijah Deny, who is, perhaps the oldest man in Kentucky : He was 1 19 years of age on the 10th of September, and as active as many men'of 4J. He , works daily upon a farm, and throughout his whole life he has been an early riser. He informed the writer that he had never drank bul onn cup of coflee, and that was in the year 1848. He served seven years in the war of the Revolution, aud was wounded at the siege of Sa vannah and at the battle of fc-utaw Springs; he was also present at the b itlles ofCam-d-n, King's Meuntain and Monk's Cornet . He served under Col. Horry and Col. Marion, an I waa an eye-witn'ss of the suffer ings and death of Col. Isaac Hayne, of South Carolina, an early victim of tl e Revolution. He is sprightly and active, and would he taken at any lime to be a man of middle age. He is a strict member of the Bab ist Church, and rides six milei to every meeting of his Church. He has four sons and five daughters, all living, the eldest being now in his seventy-eight and the youngest in his fifty first year. Such is a brief sketch of this aged soldier I and republican, who is, perhaps, the only surviving soldier of francis Marion, Sump-ter and Horry. Tuat is a Bor I can Trust. "I once visited," said a gentleman, "a large public school. At recess a little fellow came up and spoke to the master ; and as he turned to go down the platform, the master said, "That is a boy I can tru-t ; he never failed me." I followed him with my eye, and looked at him when he took his seat after recess. He had a fine open manly face I thought a good dial about the mastei's remark. What a character had that little boy earned 1 He ha I already got what would be to him more than a fortune. It would be a passport to the best office in the city, and, what is better, I lo the confidence of the whole community. I wonder if the boys know hnw soon they are rated by elder people. Every boy in I the neigl borliood is known, opinions f irrr.- ed of him, and he has a character either favorable or unfavorable. A boy of whom the master can say, "I can trust him, be never failed me, will never want employment. The fidelity, promptness, and industry which he has shown at sohool are prized everywhere. He who is lalhful in little, will be faithful in much. Sambo's Dk criotioic or an Elephant. "He's as big as a haystack on four wharf-spiles, with a head like a flour barrel, wid a side ob sole ladder Happen on each side ob it, and a noe six feet long, a squirmin round like de lnginerubbor hose an a couple of teef sticken out ob de mouf like a couple ot barber poles a sunken out ob a basement barber-shop. "When he walks he rolls from side to siae like a saylor man jis landed ; and I expect de reason am, cause his feet am berry lender for he' got corns on all his toes. His feet am shaped sum in like a cullud man s only broder, bul like de darky's de holler ob it makes a hole in de ground. "When he war made it seems to me dat dev stood on four of dem wharf suites and den pile oil all de meat dcy could pile on. Den dey made a graby or sand stone, gut-la nersha. brown dust, molasses' and arsv dog and poured it all obcr de flesh anddar luff il to dry.. When dey eome to de tail de stuff gib out, and de had to cat it Ihorll" tW The Albany Atlas says the following is not by Longfellow, but probably by Poor-fellow, a poet more often heard than quoted : ' -' I'is winter, Snd no more tha breeict . Buss imnug the budding traraes, And wkila th' bay with rsrirwj trots, ' ' 8KiTriif, homeward dri hi eowte, Nrlv frost-bit are hia towa ; And blesa my life, how cold hi aos Is 1 - : .it . ... ., ,., -. . . . . .The Spfingfitld (IU.) Journal says lhat eontracta for new corn have been made ip that vicinity at 22 ernts in the ear, and. 25 to 25 theiled and, tacit ov. " i (fl)t Kuniorlst. ....The at'empt to make omalgia out, of "gl" eoal has been abandoned. ....There i a man not west so dinv lhat the aasessor put him down a leal estr.te. . . , , " O, dear, I'm a sweet lookin f chap," as the little buy said when befell into a hogshead of molatsea, , . . . .Wheren did Barnum prove himself a brave man f By selling hia "Life" aa dearly as poa-aib!u..... A colemporary, speaking of the report on gentlemen's miMon, says: "Tber is not much kan'j in grnl'a pan s thia m mh." , Verv liUly. j i-i ... .A poor widow was asked how she bee .me so much attached to a certain' neighbor' and replied thai she was boun I ' to him by several cords of wood which ho had sent her during the hard winter. ...."Mr. Smith," said a little fellow the other evening to his sister's beau, ' I wish jou would not praise Anna Maria' eye any more. You've made her si, proud now lhat she won't speak to cousin Laura, nor help mother the (east bit." , . . .Mrs. Grummy, in fooling over the ' Advertisements the oilier day, saw one headed "Ridical CtWeV "Well," said she, "I'm glad they have gt a way of curing them radicals, for tiny have been turning the world upside down ever tuco I was a gal " .... It is satisfactorily demonstrated that eveiy time a woman scolds her husband, she adds a new wrinkle to her face I It is thought the announcement of this fact will have a most salutary effect, especially that il is understood that every time a wire smiles on her husband it will remove ona of the old wrinkl s ! .... A trader from the country went into a liquor store lately, to purchase a cask of brandy, and wished 'o know if the cask was perfectly light. The wag in attendance instanlly replied, "It ought to be,' for it conUius liquor enough to make almost anything light." . . . .The principal of an academy, in his advertisement, mentioned his female assistant, and the "reputation for teaching which she bears;" but the printer careless fellow left out the 'which,' so lbe advertisement went forth, commendiog tha lady's "reputation for teaching she bears." . . . ."Wil'y," said a doting parent at the breakfast table to an abridged editiou of himself, who had just entered the grammar class at the High School, "Willy, my dear, will yi u pass the butu r ?" "Therlainly. ihir. it takthes me to parthe anything. Butter ith a common substantive, n uti-r gender, agreelb with het buckwheat cakths, and is governed by thugar-houlh molathelb undei stood." . . . .The Bo ton Watchman, some time ago told the fo lowing ! "Father, what does ihe printer live en?" "Why, child?" "You said you hadn't paid him for two or three jears, aud yet you hate his paper every week." "Take the child OUt of the room What does he know ab'oaU sight and wrong ?" ....A Pedfer, Stifling on an old lady lo dispose of some goods, inquired of her if she could tell him of any road that no pedler had ever travelled. "Yes," said she, "I know of one, and only one which no pedler haj i vt-r travelled, (the pedler's countenance brightened) and thats the road lo heaven." AoviRstTT. "Ah, Sam, so you've been in trouble, th ?'' "Yes, Jem, yes." "Well, well, ehetr up, man; adversity tries us and sboas up our beat quali ies." "Ah, but adversity did'nt try me ; it was tli u County Judge, aud he snowed op my worst qualities." . ... .A boy is very miscellaneous in hia habits. We emptied Master Smith's pock-els the oilier day, and found the cooUn'a to consist of the following articles : Sixteen marbles, t ne top, an oyster shell, two pieces of brick one dooghnu', a piece of curry comb, a p tint brush, three wax ends, a handful of corks, a chisel, Iwo knives, a skate strap, three buckles, and a dog-eared primmtr. i : ! ....A clergyman preaching on some particular patriarch, was extremely bigli. in his pmegyric, and spoke of him as far exceeding every saint in the calendar. Ha took a view of the c lestial hierarchy, but in vain; he could not assign to his saint a place worthy so many virtues as he possessed; every sentence ended thus: "Where then can we place this great patriarch ?" One of the congregation, tired at last of the repetition, txclaimed : "As I am going away, you may put Lim in my pew.)' , , . . ."What are you doing there Jane ?". "Why, Pa, I'm going to dye my doll' pina-fore red." "But what hare yoo to dye It with ?" ! "Beer, Pa." "Beer I who on earth told you that beer would dye red." . , "Why, ma satd yesterday that it waa beer that made your nose to red, and I thought that " : - - -t "Here, Susan take this child to bed,." , - . . . ."Quillip" told a good story of a man on a Misriwippi steamer, who was questioned by a Yankee. The gentleman, to hamor the fellow, answered all hitqnes-'-lions straight-for wardly, until the Down-" easier was fairly puzzled fur an interroga lory. At last he enquired ''-'! "Look here, anuire, where was Jeoa borit" ' "I was brm," smM Ihe tirUm, "in Bos! ton, Treasons-- airw, Ku. 44. jdo the lt dsy of August, 1825, at 4o'lock in. lb, affruoon." " " - Yanke waa answer d corripltlely." T'' a&ies ant We was struct Sm n, huwew r biaiaos biighlened. ami hn'iU''t l , "Ysas; wall, I ealc'U Joi d"ou'l.n e-oBact whether it waa a tna; houie or t . brick hou e, dew yeoit ' if r ft Trcr 7 cr!