Mt. Vernon Democratic banner (Mount Vernon, Ohio : 1853), 1858-05-11

              i VOLUME 22, T VERNON, OHIO : TUESDAY; MAY 11 . ,1858: ' ; - NUMBER . 4. - . MOIIN e it . 4 v. ,1- ! Oflce la TooardVBioci, Tliird Story. ' TBRTlr iJbtti'rt pr usiin, pyble In d-raneei $ ?,60iriVb!B iix tnontb;, f 3,00 fter th ex-irUn of the yair. tldbs of twenty, $1,50 eaoh. o , o B - 4 r 9 m e. $ c. $ o$ e. $ e. $ e. $ e. $ o. 1 001 251 75 2 25 3 00 3 50 4 50 8 10 1 75 2 25 3 25 4 25 5 25 6 00 6 75 S 00 . 1 itar, - 2 i quart. 3 tquorei, - 50 3 50 4 50 5 05 0 00 7 00 8 00 10 1 4 ?MarM, . 3 50.4 00 5 00 C .00 7 00 8 00.10 1 iquhft, chftnrjeahU montkftf, $10, tct7y, it 15 18 25 40 column, shangeobU quarter,.... 1 ctnnfinr, cnatrteabfe '7wrteTJ,. 'Twelve tine of Minion, (thU type) arooouti- tdd as a sqttare. Jf&T' B4itoHJ notices 6f adrertisemenU, ot enVllng Mtnt'ion-tA enterprig intendsd to benefit indi-Tiddals or eotpotntiotis, will be charged for at the Ij-ate of H cts pet Hne. , '9 Special notices, befo'te marriages, or taltinfr preoedence of regular advertise'mente, double usual : rates. '". Notions for meetings, c'hantab'le Bdolotles, ftro torn pat) i, Jko., half-price. fJT MftrriAjd Bdtices in.reyred for 0 ct ; Deaths 25 cent", uulehs Accompanied by oblt'iiatries, which will be charged for at regular advertising rates. JCS AdVertijeWts displayed in largo type to be charged one-half mora ihafi regular rftttaS. 9"AU tranieot advertisements to be paid for id advance. Choice f Somebody's courting somebody, . ' Somewhere or other to-night.-Somebody's whispering to somehodyj Somebody's listening to somebody, ' : Under this cluar moonlight: .'.-; Near the bright river's flow; Kunning so still and low Talking so soft and low, . She aits with somebody: , ' facing the ocean's shore, dged by the foaming roar, Words never breathed bel'ore, Sound sweet to somebody. , Under the maple-tree, . f"' peep though tho shadow be,. Plain enough they CAn see-Bright eyes has souiebodyi JTo one sits op to wait,-' Though she is out so late All kuuw she's at the gate Talking with somebody. Tip-toe to the parlor door ' ; - Two shadows on the floor - : Moonlight reveal no more . Susy and somebody. . - Two, sitting side by side, . float with the ebbing tide. . ,'Xhas, dearest, may we glide Through life," nays somebody; Somewhere, somebody Makes love to somebody - . To-night. J A. SV9191ER MOR.MXG SOXO. . BT MART HOWITT, - The summer sun is shining Upon a world so bright! Tbjlew upon each grasKy blade, . The golden light, the depth of shade, All seem as they were only wade To minister delight. Prom giant trees strong branched; And all their reined leaved; -r-: ; From little birds thitt madly sing, Prom-insects fluttering on the wing, "; " ! Aye, from thevery meanest thing, My spirit joy receives! . . I think of angel voices When the bird's songs I hear; bf that celestial city bright ( With jeinth, gol and chrysolite, ; - When, with its blazing pomp of light,1 The morning doth appear! . . UH . IE;II.4IIIE. :;.v iSfae shoon to hide her tiny taes, - ' : ' ' Nae stoekinga on her feot; . Iler suple' ancles white as snaw, .-''. Or af!y blotseoms iweeL Her simple inii tf Iprlnkled pink, . Her dviible; drarpled chin, Iler puckered anff baumy mou', With na mm tooth between lle-'r een1, fSe lite i'e? tnither's een, ; " Twa gentle liquid things; ' . JQer face is like an angel's face . , We're giad slie has nae wings. our love" f ' A gffti Ood gio'd as, . , "Ife munns love the gjft ffer weel, Tirad be dm bleuln'g' has. - ' A fleisiat Loye Stor. ; :Ah mj life tdrigfad frnbWn irfary "Moore. 'JbX'Hs lifcUmg 1 htli foyed faer. - : 'Oar' mothers ere ' old pfarrfateiT ana' first 99uua.'. T Jly first yecd))eclipo is of a boy in a ml frock smd Jlortrjtfo fffcrofcsV rocking m cradle, in wo'fch repoafeij a: uti"n-hired,i Woe eferfbaby, not quite ar yeiajr" trtd. That boy tfas' cb jeelj' Harrj Churchy ttb$ , bh-ejed baby was' Mary Latfcr.'ftin, I aee myself C: tie Aula reboot WuQ drawing my'-little chaiw oyro'tffs'dbor', "Miry xagi ride: tomerany i beal& sa g-Moedroa ch ocoaioos, for other bbfi -idetfrae liked her, and ehe'; tear, wa ibuiB ftun oT .fiirt, evea ia her piaaforee - How el raodf abwearoe trippiag-dowii the steps when I f4MV H weetj.' JbetHblua evea Uohei M me 1- UoW gxftj tng oat her merry ttf rtf Th at; falfJ" ja u'gb. P , .No one T b o t ifary eftl4 eti ftnng ber ijeart veo-opt to her 4i pit I-fottowed- it l&roafj'.th" heated' nooa of maq-6jo7tadi AOr Whea the froet of age are'ail. wriog'my hair, and ma'ay childrea cltinb oa'my kueiTtth'4 call ine MfatherfM. I ftod that the jnem eneilDf joeth are strong, aod that, even in gray iairt, 1 am following its masio stilL T7h3 1 was fifteen, the first great sorrow of o to G . g 4 4 B B B B m A o o o o a O B B 1 r r- r o". er B t3 a ai 9 m Ijoctrg. my life came oa my heart. I was sent to school, and was obliged to part with Mary. We were not to see each other foir three long years I This to me Was like a sentence of death, for Mary was like life itself to me. But hearts are toagh things after all. . I left college in all the flash and vigor of my nineteenth year. -I was no longer awkward and embarrassed. I had grown into a tall, slender stripping, with a rery good opinion of myself, both in general and particular. If I thought of Mary Moore it waS lo imagine how I should daz zle and bewilder her with my good- looks and wonderful attainments nerer thinking that she might dazzle and bewilder me still more. I was a coxcomb I know; bat as youth and good looks have fled, I trust I be may believed when I say it at self conceit has left me also. An advantageous proposal was made to me at this time, and, accepting it, I gave up all idea of a profession, and I prepared to go to the Indies. In my harried visit home I saw nothing of Mary Moore. She had gone to a boarding school at some distance, and was not expected home till the following May. ; I ottered one sigh to the memory of my little blue eyed playmate, and then called myself "a man again." "In a year," I though:, as the vehicle whirled away from our door, "in a year, rtr three years, at the very most, I will return, and. if Nary is as pretty as she used to be, why then, perhaps, I may marry her." ;'.. j. And thus I settled the future of a young lady whom t bad not seen for four rears. I never 'thought of the possibility of her refusingme--never dreamed that she would not condescend to accept my offer. But now I know that had Mary met me then, she would have despised me. Pt" haps in the scented and affected students, she might have found plenty of sport; but as for loving me, or feeling the slightest interest in me, I should have perhaps found I was mistaken. India was my salvation, not merely because of my success, but" because, my laborious iudustry had counteracted the evil : in my nature, and made me a better man. When at the end of three years, I prepared to return, I said nothing of the reformation in myself which I knew had taken plater - : "They loved me as I was," I murmured to myself, "and they shall find out for themselves whether I am better worth loving than formerly." I packed up many a token from that land of romance and gold, for the friecds I hoped to meet. The gift for Mary Moore t selected with a beating heart; it was a ring of rough, virgin gold, with my name and hers engfdved idside that was all, and yet the sight of the little toy strangely thrilled me as I bilariced it updd the tip of my finger. . f To the eyes of others it was but a small, plain circlet, sdgetidg thoughts, perhaps, by iu le ga nee, of the beautiful white band ihat was to wear it. But to me-how much was embodied there! A loving smile on a beautiful face low words of welcome, a future home, and tt sweet smiling face a group of merry children to climb my knee all these delights were hidden within that little ring bf gold! - tHAPTEB II. ' ' I ' Tall, bearded, and sun bronzed, I knocked at the door of my father's" hodse. The lights in the parlor windows and the hum of conversation aud cheerful ladghter, showed me that company were assembled there. I bdped that my sister Lizzie would come td the door, and that I might greet my family when no ; strange eye was look-, mg curiously on. . ' : Bat nj t servant answered my summons. They were too merry in the p trlor to heed the long absent one when he asked for adiriittarice A bitter thought like this Was" passing through my mind, as I heard the sounds from the potior and saw the half suppressed smile Upon the ser; ant's face. i I hesitated for a moment before I made my. self knovn or asked after the family, and while I stood silent, a strange, apparition grew up be fore me. From behind the servent peered out a small, golden head, a tiny, delicate form follow ed, and a sweet childish face, with blue eyes, was lifted up to mine so like those of one who had brightened my boyhood, that I started ba;k with a sudden feeling of pain. - 'M "What is your name my little one T! I asked, while the wondering servant held the: door. - She lifted np ber hand as if to shade her eyes,1 (I had seen that very attitude in another, in ray boyhood!, many and many a time,) and answered in a sweet bird-like voice: "Mary." "Aod what else ?" I asked quickly. "Mary Moore Chester. ' lisped the child. My heart saok down like lead. Here was an eotf to af) the bfighY dreams and hopes of my yo'ulh aiid m'anhood. Frank Chester, my boyish rivaT, whV h!aVlofeolried,t and in vain, to usurp, my place besi2e the" girl,' had succeeded at last, and had won her away from me IWThiJ was his child-his child stid' Marf'eJ . .. ; ,. . f sank; body and' sbof, berealh' this bio w aiumg my iace ia my oaaas i leanea against the door,, while my heart Vepi tear of blood. The liule one' gazM af megrteved ahd amazed, and put tj'p heir! pretty Tip' as if about to tfry," while the' perplexed servant stepped tbthe parlor door and called my sister out, to dee' who it could be that conducted himself so strangel. , : . . . - ,. . . , I heard a light step, and a pleasant oicoiiay iag J .-- "l)"d ytfwlsa'tosee.my father sir?" ' ' ? ; i loonua jnpv. a acre aiooa a pmij, sweet-faced maiden of wenty", not much changed from the dear Iiule sister 2 had loved so'Well. i look ed at her" for a" mom ent,-' and tSeiJ,' slolling the tumult of my heart by a-, mighty effort, I opened my arms aod said:;; ' J """ Zl .'. :'.' "''-: - "Lizzie, deo't yon know me?" '--" "''" ! -- "Harryt-'Obai brotfierHarihc cried J?"f'kS?5eif ,tWnr"7-teasUiShairept as if her heart, would breath There was a rash anda-erf-0f joy, and then my father and mother sprang idwards me, aod welcomed me home with heartfelt tears ! Oh, stratfge and passing tweet ir such a greeting to the way-worn wiodereri And as I held my dear old mother to my heart, 'and grasped my father's hand, wh ile Lizzie still clung beside me, I felt that all was not lost, and though another had secured life's choicest blessing, many a joy remained for me in this dear sanctuary of home. There were foi r other inmates of the room who had risen on my sadden entrance., t One was the blue ' ey sd child whom I had already seen, and who stcod beside Frank Chester, cling, ing to his hand. Near by stood Lizzie Moore, Mary's eldest sist sr, and in a 'distant corner, to which . she had " lurriedlf retreated when my name was spoken, stood a lall and slender fig ure, half hidden py the heavy window curtains that fell to the fldor. : ' ' When the first! rapturous greeting was over, Lizzie led me forward with a timid grace, and Frank Chester grasped my hand. "Welcome home, my boy 1" he said with the loud, cheerful tones I remembered so welL "You have changed so that I should never have known you; but nib matter for that your heart is in the right plaLe, I know." J ''How Can you say he has changed?" said my mother, gently. To be sure, he looks older and ike a man, than when he went away but his eyes and smile are the same as ever I It is that heavy beard that changes him lie is my boy stil "Ay, mother," boy still." . answered sadly, "I am your Heaved help ma I At that moment I felt like a bov. and it wou Id have been a blessed relief to . w - - r- nave wept npon ner Dosora as l naa done in my infancy. But I kept down the beating of my heart and the tremor of my lip, and answered quietly, as I looked "You have chan in his full, handsome face ged too, Frank-, bat I think for the better." "Oh, yes thank you fdr that compliment,' be answered with a hearty laugh. "My wife tellS me I grow handsomer every day." : His wife? coul silent still ? I hear that name and keep "And have yon seen my little girl," he added, lifting his infadt in bis arms, and kissing ner crimson cheek.- .'' other in the world tell you there is not such an Don't you think she looks very much as ber mother used to?" -. ; "Very much !" It faltered. . "Halio !" cried Firank, with a suddenness that made me start violently, "I have forgotten to introduce you to my jwife; I believe you and she used to be playmates in your young days -eh, Harry?" and he slapped me on the back. "For the sake of old times, and because you were not I'll give you leave to kisj her oncebut mind, old fellow, you are never to repeat the ceremony. . Conre here she is, asd I for once, want To see how you Will nianage those ferocious mas .aches of yours in the operation." T . .. .. - He pushed Lizzie, laughing and blushing to wards me I A gleam of light and hope, almost too dazzling to bean, came over me, and I cried out before I thought: . - "Not Mary 1" ' ; I must have betr .yed my secret td every one in t!fe room, but nc thing was said even Frank, in general so obtuse, was this time silent. ! I kissed the fair cheek of the young wife, and hurried to the silent i igure , looking out from the window, v . ' ' "Mary Mary Mcore," said I, in a low, eager voice "have you no welcome to give to the wanderer?" ! ;i . . .. .-; She turned and 1 lid her hand in mine, and murmured hurriedtj : . v ," ' "I am glad to se ' you here, Harry." "Simple words t ad yet how blest they made me I I would not have yielded up that moment for ad emperor's c rown 1 . Foi there was the happy home group, ind the dear home fireside, and there,' sweet Ma ry Moore! The eyes I bad dreamed of by day and nigh't,' were falling before the ardent gaze of mine; and the sweet face I had so long prayed to see; was! there before me 1 I crever knew the m'ea'ning of ha"ppiaess till tn'at moment Cau'e i .' Many years have passed since that happy night," a'nd the nair t iat was dark and glossy then' is fast turning gray . : I am growing to be an old man. and can 1( ok back to a loDg and hap-hy, and I hope, a we 1 -spent life; And yet, sweet as it has been, I would not recalf a single day, for the love that ma !e my manhood so. bright, shines also upon my white hairs. . , An old man! Car this be so? At heart I am as young as ever. 1. ;nd Mary, with bright hair parted smoothly from a brow that has a slight furrow upon it, is stall the Mary of my early days. To me she can never grow old or change. The heart that hel her in her infancy, and sheltered her iu the ush and beauty of woman' hood, can never cast er out till life shall cease to warm it.' Nor ev n.. then tor love still hveM above. :' bt Tiacr TOWKSESD. She was a sweet child, little Enna "Willis, and her face shone like some rare old picture' out of its wona or goiuen nair, ana ner young wiaowea mother folded ber to her heart, and bTesrfed the Great Father that Erraa's hair and eyes', were tike those thai had lain' ever since! the. early June time under the white shroud plaits.'. . , . . . ; - "Look, mamma, its leaves are beginning to urt. fold, andlt will be entirely opened on New Year's nightj'sb that I can Wear it to Helen's party," and Enne; lifted her -fairy eagVr face' fromi the flower, Whose snowy petals were. Jus breaking , through their sheath 'of green) ,lVat winter rose-bush wai'a gift from' Ehna'a father, and: it -was his last one.' . No wonder th chpd"joved It,4; I .Yea", darling; yon shall wear ft twined fight ten in this bunch' of curls?' tfndf thV Smair fio gers lifteTth"bright fcresses' tenderly;,' frpin .p ni'i forebeadA;Vbil9 tie intheTV--pensive fei tore reflected somewhat iof the -light 'in! her child'BV'r' i---' ' u..--s Every day, every, hour, Enna-watenea it a a miser watches his gold. Every day, the large creamy-looking petals coiled outwards, and lay THE vjHITE EOSE. T s in exquisite. contrast .with, the world. of green leaves amid which the flower's beautiful life was opening. ,; ,' "' ' , ; ' ' ' '!!'.''', i "Do yoo want to. come in and see my rose, little, boy?" ' .-i : .' - Enna was returning from home that afternoon; when her eyes first rested upon the'child. lie was standing befpre. the window, in whose embrasnre her mother had placed the exotic, that the pale winter sunbeams migbi grant it a brief visit.-- The boy's large, monrnful eyes were; fastened eagerly on the large blossom, ' for it was now only two days before New Year's. ..His clothes were greatly worn, and patched with many colors, but Enna did not mind that she only saw the eager light in those large brown eyes. , v ! 'y "Then you love flowers, do you, my? child ?' said Enna's mother, in her soft tones, as they all three stood before the plant. " ' '. - "Ohf yes, ma'm ; but not so well as Mary does. , I was thinking when I stood out there on the pavement, looking-al it," if Mary could, only see ill" " Who is Mary? Can't yon bring her here?" asked Enna eagerly..: , ..: .: y' - "No!" said the boy. shaking his head mourn. fully. ; "Mary is my sister, and she is sick.. Mam ma says she cannot , live much longer, and aj night; in her dreams, she talks about the white roses that grew so thick in the low meadows, just west ot where we usea to live. : I hey were just like those, and Mary used to weave wreaths of them every May. Oh 1 dear, if she could only see it!" - -. " ' ' : :- ' . "Mamma," whispered Enna, whilst her blue eyes were moist with tears, and she pulled her mother's dress, "please give the rose to the lit' tie boy for his sick sister ; I do not want it now.! "My good child," and, the mother's tremulous lips dropped to Enna's forehead, "God will re ward you for this!" , - "Do you mean it, ma'm? do you really mean that I shall take this to Mary?" questioned that child, while his deep eyes grew radieot with joy, as Mrs. Willis placed the precious branch in his hand. ''Oh! how glad she will be," and at the thought of his sisterV great delight, the little heart gave way, and tears dashed over the boy's brown lashes. - ; . ,-. . It was New Year's night. Very beautiful looked Edna Willis in her pink dcess arid shining hair,amid which her mothers tasteful Sogers had twined a few gren leaves,' as she put tip her little ripe lips for a parting kiss, before she started for her schoolmate's soiree: - ' " At that moment the door opened, and thelittle-stranger boy entered. His face was very white, as he glided up to Mrs. Willis, and said; ' "Maryis dying, and she has sett for. the little girl who gave her the white joae." Please, ma'm, may she come, and you wil. come with her?" !, ' . 'I've brought them, Mary, rveToght them!" cried the Jboy eagerly, as he nshefed-. his guehts into the chamber, where the light flickered with, a strange, Wan smile over the bard walls and the old Chairs." A pale, griefworn. wtman tottering forward, and led them toward a bedin oho corner. The sick child lifted her head. I vias a beautiful one, with its brown hair, and blue. eyes, but the death-chill was on it. "Come nearer," she cried faintly "for somehow my eyes are growing blind.'' ind the little cold fingers closed round Enna's. I held it all day. Sud at night I went to sleep . vath it in my uauu. , jLa.;ruay tue leaves aroppta away, out an angel came to me and said, 'Don't cry for the rose Mary. In a little while you bhill come with me, and gather fairer ones.' , Ohl see them, I see thorn 1" and the light surged otue more into those bine eyes, and lightened np the rigid "fea tures with exceeding -glory.: "They are' growing there,' thousands and ; thousands of them, by a great shining rive,, and tie angel ; jtands there, and its white robe flows in great shiiing billows to its feel. . Mother, Charley, goodbye! !.'LitUe girl, for that rose. you gave me, I wi. weave you - J. e .1.'- l ,i . .' trvwu www mat Biossom up tlere. X hey are larger and fairer, and I will live it ready when you come, and yon shall wear it ia' that bright world." ' ' ' 4 ' .. The brown heal sank back, the Tifail went out from those; bright eyes, and Mary lid gone to braid Enna's rose-wreath in the great meadowy lands of heaven! . . , ! . - : ' SIBERIA. ;. 1: : . -(From AtkiMon's travels in Oriental and Western Siberia Published by the Harpers.) - An. interesting episode? in his advoiteres was a visit to Mahomed, a wealthy chief f the Kirg his, who roamed over the vast plain! stretching southward .from the frtisch to the boelers of the .Chinese Empire. .They bear Vrepntetion worse than. indefHjrent, and many were-4e .tales of their robberies and murders told byjllo Russians, The different hordes are likewise aivaVs on the wait to. kill and plunder eaeh other; bat Mr. Atkinson bad already made short exenteidnS pdn the steppe, and had-aerer failed to beet Withr a hospitable reception . of their wuU br encampments. . ' ; j . .. ' ' 't . . . He had been riding all day over tha steppe in the supposed direction of Mahomed's 4oul. NTght was approaching, but nehrherds or tents could senr' v-Tl?-iBTW were'tenrified, when Atkinson's keen eye caught distant gnmpw of .some dark moving object, hichhe wad jBtire; was a herd drivpn homeward He wasbright ' pressing !?D.ey soon saW a; which great herds of camels and horses, were making their way ApCossacfr" wsi ieht foan-nbunce" their approachto 'thd' cni&'f and ' they wera soea'ISdingbrough the herds', closelfjcjed Came tip io" st vouri :'or teuL befors which' Was "planted along spear, jbrname'nu'd';wth! atu black torshAir1;.;.; j j ; A fine old man came out to welcome them, and conduct them into the yourt. This was Mahomed. He wore a long- robe of striped pink Cljc Crabrifr. uy,vu mtcuumg A.irguip, ana escorted by, troops ot fiavagVdpg'snarlin ai tivt' heshu till they and yllow silk bound at the waist with a white shawl; hpoa his head was a close fitting silk cap embroidered with; silver. ; His wife wore a robe of black Chinese satin, a red - shawl around the waist, a white muslin cap, with loag lappets, embroidered with red silk, and high-heeled boots of brown leather!. Three children were playing up on the ground; one, a youngster of fire years rejoiced ia a single garment; the others, his juniors, were nothing except their own dusky skies.' . The favorite weapon of the Kirghiz Is" thebattle-axe. They had no fire arms, and judging from the curiosity with which they examined the pistols of their gvests, were wholly unacquainted with their use. . Another potent European invention was equally new. to them. - . , I Mr". Atkinson offered to old Mahomed a enpof rum which he. declined; and when he saw his guest imbibe it with apparent gusto, he looked aghast, as though he expected Shaitan to appear in person and claim the bold drinker of the fiery fluid. But when the household had retired, and host and guest were alone, Mahomed made signs that he would like to make a furthewxperiment as to the potability of the myterious liquor. He tasted, drank, approved the flavor or exhilarating effects, and emptying the cup, asked for mare. After that, when no one' was looking ok, he was more than willing to join his guesU in a social bowl, though most virtuouslv abstimious when any of his people were present. Fearing that tbe ojd chief character for. temperance was in peril, or perhaps apprehensive that his supply of rum would fail, Atkinson resolved to check his growing appetite. Watching his time he man aged unperceived to set fire to the contents of the cup, as he handed it to the chief . Mahomed leaped up in terror as he saw the blue flames curling about the brim; muttered aomethingabout the Evil One, and thenceforward resolutely re. fused to touch a drop of the tempting diabolical At night all the cattle are driven into the aou and carefully guarded by watchmen and dogs. At dawn, the women milk the cows, and the men drive the animal to pasture; the horses and cam els often going eight oif ten miles, the oxen a less distance, and the sheep remaining within three or four miles of the camp. ;" Vhen theae Hving' streams had .spread themselves over the plains, and tha breakfast of tea and broiled mutton had been despatched, Mr. Atkinson rode -oat on long sketching and hunting excursions into the moun tains that border the steppe, not returning until the last gleams of daylight were gilding the lofty summits of the distant ranges of the Altai. At night all is dark in the aouL for the camel's dang fires- smoulder' away without giving any light.'; About two o'clock one morning Atkinson was awakened from his sleep on the ground by a great noise. - He- sprang . up, thinking it Was an earthquake. The sound, approached: iheo pass ed liker a whirlwind. I was the. whole trooD of horses dashing away at full gallop. The aoul was attacked by . robbers- ,-, .A great sbrieking arose from women and children; old Mahomed rushed out, shouting with all his might; the Kirg his, battle-axe in hand, sprang to saddle; Atkin son and his five Cossacks seized their rifles and pistols in the darkness. A dense mass of horsemen dashed up at full speed; five rifle balls whistled through the air; ; there was a scream, and the robbers disappeared in the gloom. - A' score of Kirghls were, upon their tracks, and sooii over. took thenif for they were encambeted with their booty. . , Hut the robbers proved to be Ihe'most nomerous party, and Mahomed's "men were forced iu icucv. jluo marsuuers got cicar oa wits a buBdred. horses'; for they were so terrified by the fire arms of .the gnets that they did not venture to return to attack !the aonL:- '-. . .- .. ..v.; Japan- . : . ... A letter just received from thai country relates the following anecdote: In one of my country-valks, one day, a turn of the troad brought me face to face with two queer ittle girls; decently clad, walking demurely un der a big umbrella; and driving a cow to pasture; the quadruped walked on ruminating unconcern ed at my appearance, but the little bipeds no sooner saw m'e than they screamed with terror, cast their umbrella to the Winda, arid fied.swiftly to the nearest house, not oncer daring to look be- binl them. But such cases' as these were excep tional, and usually the children merely regarded oar presence' with big5 eyes .of wonder and with shonts of "nierikin" Merjkin., Thanks' to Com mod ore Perry and to the 'success of. his big sqaadron, "Merikins" are held in greater esteem in Japan, popularly at least, than any other foreign nation; ; Such, at least," is my opinion, and it is based upon a month'3 somewhat careful ob servation. -1 believe that if tho people were not withheld by the restrictions of .their government and by the restriction pfits spies, their good dis position towards us would be manifested speed uy arid uceq'ui vocally; Their treatment of us as in dividuals Was always courteous, (they are a Very polite, peoplej kind, and., hospitable, whenever there, were m two-s worded spies itt sight, ''yy -: a -i: t3 The following sugestions.to. housekeepers, and i uose erecuDg new ouiiuingSf uu w ess; Jieep matches in meULbpxes, ana out ot. the reach ot children, wax maienes are .panic 1 ntarly dangerous, and -ahaald be kept out of the tijf bf rat aid mice. '; Fill 'fluid or campbene lamps only by Jaynght, and never tiear a bre brj Do not deposit "coal or wood ashes 'Ih' wooden Vessels,' and beT sure burning' cinders are extin guished "before de posited. Never lake a light or ashes ander & staircase; never take a light to ex amine a gs meter; Be" careful 5 neter 'to plica fgasor1 otherlights'iear .'clirtai ns. ;' Neyer iace a light into a closet. " uo not reaa in Dea tj candle or AaTgBir9&sJida over gas lights ia show-Windows, and do not'erowd goods ntarthem. No smoking should be rjermitted in warehouses or tarns. f yrherfareaee3 are Tised, the principal register. should always be fistened opeol . Build alenimBejs from theear4ij tpve ! pipes should be at least four inches from wood-: work, guarded by tin, and enter substaotial brick chimneys horizontally.'- . -' ' - : . I ; : , : ; : ' L t7aling and Tftllring. , There la one rule to be observed In taking exercise by walking the Tery best form in which it can be taken by 'ther young, and the able-bodied of all ages and that Is, never to allow the action of respiration to be carried on through the mouth. . The nassal passages are clearly the medium through which respiration was, by our Creator, designed to be carried on. "God breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life, previous to his becoming a living creature. The difference in the exhaustion of strength by a long walk with the mcuth .firmly closed, and respiration "carried on through the nostrils instead of through the mouth, is inconceivable to those who have never tried the. experiment. Indeed, this mischievous and really unnatural habit of carrying on the work of inspiration and expiration through the mouth, instead of through the nasal passage, is the true origin ot almost all diseases of the throat and lung"?, us bronchitis, congestion, asthma, and even consumption itself. That excessive prespiration to iFhich some individuals are so liable in4heir sleep, and which is so weakening to the body, is solely the effect of such per sons sleeping with their month's unclosed.- And the same unpleasant ani exhaustive results arise lo the animal system of walking with the mouth open, instead of when not engaged in conver sationpreserving the lip3 in a state of firm" but quiet compression. As the. heat and velocity of the blood through the lungs depend almost entirely upon the quantity of atmospheric air in haled with each, perspiration, and as it is Una-Voidable that it shall be: taken. in, in volume by the mouth, whilst it can on'y be supplied in mod erate quantities, and just sufficient proportion to serve the purposes of a healthy respiratory action whilst supplied, through the! nostrils, it is clear that the body ' must be much lighter and cooler, and the breathing much freer and easier, when the latter course rather than the former is the one adopted. Children ought never to be allowed to Btand or walk with their mouths open; for, besides lie vacant appearance it gives to the couutenance,it is the eertain precursor of coughs, colds, and sore throats. ' .Vaccination- ! . Dr. Simon, Physician to the Hoard of Health, Birmingham, Eng., in a late report in favor of vaccination goes fully into.the Jiistory of its adoption in various countries, and - among other re suits, gives the following summary: . ' . In Sweden, the deaths from small pox, before' vaccination was- .introduced, averaged 2,059 annually to each million of the population; now the deathi from "the same are- only . 1 58 per million annually. Tn Vyestphalia". the decrease has been from 2,643 to 114; in JSohemia, Moravia, and Austrian Si'icia, frpa. 4,003 to. 100, ; .From such information aa exists i seems probable that the small fox death Vate of London within the jiills of mortality during the eighteenth ceniurj ranged from 3,000 to 5,000. For the years 1841- 53 .he average deaths from small j?ox. were only 304; m 1854, only ,149; and ia 1855 only 132. It is the same in the army and navy, and Dr. Balfour, in an important paper appended to Dr. Simon's report shows that the mortality from small pox in the navy is not a thirdj and in the army not a fourth, of tbe London rates. ..The experience of ther Royal Military Asylum shows that in 43 years,' only four deaths from small pox have occurred among 5774 boys, and these were of non-vaccinated boys- fThe answers to. ques tion npon. these points - from 359 of the most eminent physicians and surgeons in the United Kingdom go to support all that is enforced by Dr. Simon his report. . i . o v - Feeding- Horses. " A correspondent of the Michigan Farmer "The actual amount, of food consumed by a horse win depend npon his form and disposition. I have found that horses of a compact form and quiet disposition, weighing twelve hundred pounds, at the rate of two miles per hour, for ten hours per day, and six days in the week, will require each twenty pounds of bats, fourteen pounds of hay and seventy pounds ot water, with acorn- fortable stable to keep them in good order. Much depends npon. the horse, having :a keeper who knows how to use him without harshness. ,The feeding of horses is an important subject 7e have heard of farmers and others, ,well ac. auainted with the noble animal, assert that the best feed is a mixture oi inaian corn, cats ana barley, cracked in a "corn -crusher," The Arabs feed their horses almost exclusively on barley. About four quarts of the above mixed feed will answer for a meaL with, a. moderate quantity of hayjafterward.--S(ptijc JLmtrxzan l,?. n : Young meclianics may find in the follow ing something to interest themiy -t- A ,box'24 inches by Ifr inches square, and. 24 inches deep,! will contain five bushels, or-10,752 cubic itches. ! v ..v;iT, ;-,v,,,t.i A box 24 inches by 16 inches square, and 14 iches deep, will contain tWo bushels and a half, Or 5,27 cuVic inchei!'v,., ., .... A. box io mcaes oy lo.o incoes square, ana e inches deep, wllir contain one bushel, pr 2.150.4 cubic, inches.. , .f A' boxT 2 inches,' I f .2 inches square, apd 8 inches deep Will contain half a fcusheJ, or 1,075.2 .- . 3.-- .... - 't . cubic inches.. ,., -f , f . A box 8 by 8.4 and S inches ceep, wui contain one peck. ..- ;& , . v- r r ki A box 8 by 8 and 4.9 inches deep, will contain one gallon- V - " ' " A box 7 by.4Tand.S incheseep, Will retain half.agalWr V"J --':' !" " . t ' " A box 4 br4 and 4.2 Inches ceepwul contain one quart. The. Sultan cf Turkey, xprsses. creat gratlScatiori at the' reception given U ildhaui- med rasha iu Uus country, and declares that oua hospitality . rivals that cT tha ancient Arab" -:' ' i ' tlsffnl Ifnfonnatioii. An Irisiinaa Eefsised. to "bo. Loaded. A wealthy Irish citizen and an eminent doctor of If ew' York had a high time on Saturday. ITr. Mahosy was taken slc; and sent for the doctor. Doctor drove up to the door, polled the bell and entered the sick room. He then examined the pulse, and shook his head three times at a dollar a shake. Having done this, he left seven papers of ""powders,"" one to be taken every Un minuiesj ; the next day he called agalii. You took the powders T" asked the doctor. fNary powder," said the patient. , ; 'What, didn't yon . take ,em?" excIaimeTtle wrathful doctor. 1 ul ain't no cannon, nor I ain't ths 4th of July, nor tha battle of Waterloo, caythur. In coursj . I'm cot. . "Why thin do joa undertake to touch, me off wid your murtherin powder?" replied the . patient with equal rage. ' , A fight ensued, in which the doctor got thro ws out of the window and , fell . into a tub of soap. 6uds. . . ' " J3wa rainvm, 5 gall. "Soapum iwrpeutinur$ 4 lbs., cools the blood, and cures fits of anger, he took a note of it, and lefL . . Circtaalocutory, . . : ... The following.is the next thing in evidence concerning the stone as big as a small piece of chalk:"- ., - ' :. " , Were you traveling on the night the afak took place?" , , .- ' "I should say I was, sir." . " "What kind of weather was hV j . , , "I should say it was a pretty considerable kiiid of weather." . : . .. . . . , , "Was it raining at the lime?" "It was so dark I couldn t see it raining I felt t dropping, though.".. . "How dark was it?" - . , "I had no way of telling but it was not light by a jug full."- ; - - "Can't you compare it to something?" "Yes if I was going to compare "it to any thing; I phould say it was as dark as a stick oi black cats!" " . ; . A Kentucky Anecdote.., . A Southern gentleman owned a slave, a. very intelligent fallow, who was a Universal tst. 0 a one occasion he illustrated, the intellectual char-acter. of his religion in the following manner.-, A certain slave , had obtained a license of tha Baptist to preach. He Was holding forth in the presence of many of his colored brethren at one time, when he undertook to describe the process, of Adam's creation. Said he, "When God make Adam, he stoop.down, scrape up a little dirt, wet it .a little, warm., it a little in.he-Jiands, and, squeeze itin tberight shape, al dea lean it. against de fence, to dry." . . . f. VTop d ere l"V. said oar Uaiversalist darkey, You say dat are de fustest man eber made!', , 'Sarthin!' said the preacher,- . ... , : - r 'Den," said the. ther, jes tell a feUcr whar dat Are fence come from!". . . .. - . . ;;3"Hush f eaid the preacher, ftwo more quesj tions like dat would spile all the feologyin de world." . " ' . - - -r sw..- . . Washing his own Sheep. A piquant correspondent his just parsed be-, tween two clergymen in a ci'y where conslderbl religious awakening has taken place. In sub. " stance the correspondence ran as follows : fBaptlst to Methodist clergyman. , . Dear Brother I shall baptise some-converts to-morrow ; if any of your converts prefer to ha-baptised in our mode, I shall be happy tobaptise them as candidates.for your church. "" Mtthodlit to Bsptiit clergyman .J . . Dear Brother Yours received. I - prtfet ta wash my own sheep. ' " , . !r - A Gc$d llateh. : . . A writer for the Home Journal describes at couple who were "not unequally yoked together.'' ; . In short, the man was very; poor--- . " And what was worse, supremely lazy, - - '-A kind ef troetlo haxd. to cure, .-. . - i But each as rarely drives one eraiy. . , . Sla wife was juat hi proper match. An idle goanp, and a alattera, ffboe frook which time and frequent patch ' Knew nevermore it native pattern, .ibey lived, aatwere fronrhand to mouih .-' he d wad ling over pet and kettles, . - He in a con slant ctate ef dronglit, . - And both is frequent want of victuals. ' ' gSr "Bridget," said a lady to her servant,' "who was that man you was talking so long with, at the gate last night I?;. -, . - yJ ' r ''Sure no one but my eldest brother. ma'am' replied Bridget, with a flashed cheek, - - . "Your Brother ! I didn't know you had a bra ther.- What is his name, Bridget?- : - ' Barney Octoolan, ma'am.'' - j r ' . ..Indeed ! how comes it that bis a ame is nci the same as your?" ; - . v 4 ' - J 'Troth, ma'am,' replied Bridget, he has bete married once.".-- - V - . -.:--;-t - j - - ' mm, . X- , f . C Carrie A. Clark thus writes to tie Loui ville Journal-. V -. '; . V "; kiv. .v.' t brie g "thee a heart, lore a sUinlese brt, . , "-Am trech and as pure as the mountain tuaw; ' - Still echoing back, with a clearer atraia- i " . The son X that yoa taegbt U locg V t ". . lis an homble thing, - . . i -- " , :" "The gift I brin?, r ' -; . . ' - "Yet ray all, my fortune and my tt.ore, " t .". And I bring it thee, I can brin no taar.; " " "What more ctuld her'love ask? ! "A staialess heart, a't fortune, and a forel rcs$ibly s dry goods store. 3 Hold on to that gaJ.: v ' i nr. rtt; :o ' ieingater, srare that girl,- - - ; l: Ixlai not tito lips'ta inpelc,.. j - r i V.r -'jUnruCed let tbe fair l'-t cux2, "I- --Upon tie maiden's cLcwk; , ' 1 i -3 fTCeliaVa hff nulla ka.iiit- '' 'Jler locti are alt aivlae;" Be top? b i jviinti -- - a- v.;';"3 Uwr form is exLaoliae I t A mr. , - ' . . r 1 ; " 1 1 1 ' - . 1 f. Til come, down and give you a tbrr "V.: if joa don't etop'yoarimpadece?,"? f 1 a thati a po!UicaJ opponent from Jrelanl, v 1 - vj.s tz 5 ing at hia from the street btiow " "Cocie along," said Pat, ""party sionefy;"-.-for I'd like to be close by. when y a did i J ' ; X3The last excuse for ' crinoline, U C tla 'ireoler tease!" need Buch hobj'Ir J. I ' " ' -