Newspaper of Bedford Gazette, November 9, 1860, Page 1

Newspaper of Bedford Gazette dated November 9, 1860 Page 1
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VOienK i>7. NEW SERIES. OROAD TOP RAIL ROAD ! have been effected between the PENNSYLVANIA R. R. CO. ami HUNTINGDON & tmOAt) TOP R- R- CO.. by which Freights are transported at the following low rates; From Hopewell to Philadelphia, Flout, 62i cents per bar rel Grain, 31 cents per 100 lbs. Merchandize Westward, From Philadelphia to Hopewell, per too l,s. Ist Class, 75 cents. 2d class, 00 cts. 3d class -,0 rents. -Uti rlusi, 35 Cents. Salt and Plaster, 30 cents. . . , „ , freights Westward are received at the Pennsyl vania Railroad Station, 13th and Market Streets, Philadelphia, and forwarded d.iity. Frei-bts Eastward ate received at the Hopewell station' of Broadtop tl. R-, and forwarded <f'dy ; al S. B. KINGSTON. Ml., Fiei"ht agent, Peu'na. 11. R. Go., Phil'a. S. S. FLITCK, F moht Agent, H.& B. T. It. Ft.. Hopewell Station. It Tldle-Uug Coal, Fine and Lump, always on hand and for sale. g FLUCK. Sept. 7, iB6O. / tONFECTKVN AUY I , AN I> GRoC F. R V . THE undersigned has just icceived and ke-ps constantly °n hand the following articles:— Collee, sugar, molasses, cheese, crackers, currants, prunes, raisins, figs, almonds, filberts, cocoa nuts, . round nuts, pecans, Eng. walnuts, cream nnt<, can dies in variety, oranges, lemons, tobacco and cigars, allspice and pepper, spices of all kinds, baking so da. cream of tartar, sulphur, brimstone, canister and keg powder, shot, caps and lead, grain am! grass rrythes, whetting lools, wash tubs aril boards, in di"o, extract logwood, copperas, alum ami madder, oil" polish and Mason's blacking, sweeping, dusting „tove, shoe and scrubbing, brushes, e'.otues, hair, tooth and flesh brushes, bat and infant brushes, hair oils awl perfumery. purses and port rnonaies, pock et and f erooraiulurn books, bonnet and round gum combs, "ridding" and Cue combs, bracelets and beads, pens, pen-holders, penknives, scissor-, knile •sharpeners, umbrellas, suspenders, spool cotton and floss, clocks, small looking glasses, violins, violin 3triugs, toy "watches, watch chains, curry combs, ■eardsj horse brushes, shoe-thread, pegs an spara bles, Johnson's Arabian Liniment, Rock and Little s "White Oil, Merchant's celebrated Garglio-' Oil, tor man-or beast, and many other articles of a similar nature. The patronage of the public is respecUutly 50hCUe,! ' A. L. DF.FIBAUGH. June 17,'59.-ly- Bloody run foundry AND MACHINK Stl () P. THE subscribers are now prepared at thei Foundry in Bloody Run, to fill all ordeTs for Castings -of every description for GRIST .TVI* SHIT-MILLS, THRESHING MACHINES, APrLF. MILLS, PLOUGHS and all things else in our line that may be needed in this or adjoining counties. We manatuctureThresbing Machinnsof 2, 1 or Horse Fowr, WARRANTED equal if not superioi to any made in the State. We keep constantly on hand a "full assortment of Wood Cock, Plug and Hillside "Ploughs, WARRANTED to give satisfac tion, or no sale. Points, shares nd land sides to fit all Woclcocß, or St-yler ploughs in the county. Farmers' Bells, Ploughs and Castings of our make may be had at the store of Wm. Hartley, in Bedford, Sonderbaughfk Pee, East Providence To., John Nycum & Son, Tknes being hard, we offer great inducements to Farmers and Mechanics to buy of us. All kinds of repairing done in a neat ami substan tial manner and al! work warranted. Call and ex amine our castings ami work and judge lor your selves. Our agents sell at foundry prices. JOSIAH BAUGH.VIAN K BRO. Match 26, ISSB. k MACHINE Sll<>|\ THE subscrbers having formed a partnership under the style ol "Dock <St Aachoui" lor the pur pose of conducting a general FOUNDRY AND MACHINE business In the establishment recently erected by Gilliard Dock, in Hopewell, Bedford county, ar- now prepared to execute orders (or CASTIJ\<rS AND MACIffA"K!I I" of everv description. They will build to order steam-engines, coal and drift-cars, hor-e powers and thresbii g machines—ai.-o, casting ol every kind lor furnaces, forges, saw, grist and rolling mills, ploughs, water-pipe, columns, house fronts, brackets, Ate., Arc. They are also, now making n fine assortment of M OVES of various kinds ot the latest patterns and most approved style-, including several s-zes of COOK STOVES of the best make, heating stoves tor chinches, offices, bar-rooms, Ate. A full assortment of Stoves will be kept constant ly on hand, and sold at wholesale and retail, at prices to suit the times, and quality, warranted qual to the be st Eastern malce. Machinery of all aids repaired promptly. Patterns made to order. GILLIARD DOCK, C. W. ASCHOM. Nov. Ilk 1859 T> ED FORD COUNTY MAP. I Will make a directory map of Bedford County from actual surveys, if a sufficient number of sub seribers can be raised to justify me in the enter prise. The map will be large and well finisheJ ami will show the location of all the public roads streams, boundary lines, towns, villages, Hotels, Churches, .School Houses, Post Olfices, siores, grist mills, saw mills <Vc., Kc., and will contain the names of all the property holders, and show the businesthat almos: each one is engaged in I will put on the sairit sheet maps of all the towns anil large villages, also tables and statistics ot the County and (if taken in t 1 me) the census of 1860. Pains will be taken to make it as reliable as any Map in the blaic. .lulv 1,'59. EDW'D. L. WALKER. ur \Mi i\ u toy MO? s M:, \\ BEDFOSD, PA. MRS. S. FILLER would respectfully announce to t.er friends in Bedford County, and "o The public geneiaily, that she has leased, for a term of years, the large and convenient brick hotel, at the coiner of Pitt and Juliana streets, Bedford, Pa., known as the-'WASHINGTON HOUSE," and lately kept by MRS. COOK. This house is being thoroughly re fitted and refurnished, and is now open for the re ception of guests. Visitors to the "BEDfrOKD SPRINGS" and persons attending Court, will find Ttiis house a pleasant and comfortable temporary home.—Every attention will be paid to the comtort j arid accommodation ot guests. The tabic will at all , times be supplied with the best the maikets a flout, j Charges moderate. . • . Kjctfcnsive sTalning is attached to this bote!, and a careful and competent hostler will be in atten dance. Special attention will be paid to the accom modation of the farming community. March 30th. 1860. _ | \ LOT OF PURE MAPLF. SUGAR, FOR SALE | 'Jul >20,'00. A. L: DF.FIBAUGH. HHHE BEDFORD GAZETTE IS EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY O. 1\ HEYISttS, AT the following terms, to wit: $1 .50 per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " if paid within the year. $2.50 " " it not paid within the year. Crr"Nn subscription taken lor less than six mouths. K?*"No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher, it hae tieeu decided by the United States Courts that tbs stoppage of a newspaper without tne payment of ar rearages, is prima fati* evidence ot fraud and is a criminal offence. \l_TThe courts have decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription price of newspapers, it they take them from the post office,whether'hey subscribe for them, or not. TIL ATH)V an I>TTTTT~ "Elizabeth—Miss Hut wood—will you bo my wile ?" These were the words of my dignified suit or, Philip lluesion, as he stood before me one dull, drizzly April morning. 1 was not sur piised to hear him speak in this manner. Be lore lie moved his lips 1 knew the words be would utter, and yet a block oi granite that | never felt a springing pulse within it, could not have been deader or more silent at his words than my heart. I looked out of the win dow and saw the wide fields with the first faint flush of green upon them—saw the mist afar off lying still and white upon the hills like great ghostly shadows—saw the leaden sky dip down to meet the weird old pines. I saw all this, and yet nothing taught me how to answer the question that had been ask-d me. My lile run on dull and sunless through all the year, I thought. Tails spring it was forgotten, and ils bursting buds had withered and died waiting for the blessed summer that would never come lo it. 1| I raised my brows pitifully, asking lor the touch of a few flowers, should Ibe crowned only with thorns ? I leaned my head upon my hand as I thought of it. Mr. Hues i ton was still standing betore me. "Miss Harwood 1" he said, as if to remind me of his presence. I looked up into his face. It was a hand some, grave countenance, and not unpleasant to look upon. The mouth was lull, firm and proud ; the nose straight, with slightly dila ting nostrils : and the eyes —those strangely p culia.' eyes that are blue and black alternately, Mad a touch of fire and passion in their depths, as- though they were strong enough to translate at times the soul that look-a from them. But look us keeniv as I might I could not read the secret ol his preference lor rne. He was a rich man ; I a poor girl with a dead heart.— My cousins (I was an inmate ot my uncle's j house,) were gay, lasbionable and beautiful— why did he turn from them to me ? He did not say that he loved me. I liked that. He had been a matried man once, to a butterfly of wealth and fashion ; perhaps her grave held, or her life had killed out everv sweet thought of passion and tenderness. I did not care to know which it was. Sy cold a wooing I thought would not lead out to a sunshine of love and romance. But the flowers for which I ask-d, what of them ? Ah. one s[>ot of my heait had been left unseal ed when the bla.-t came that made its surface hard and impenetrable. I knew and lelt thi. Through the narrow portal would God's bless ing ever thrill ? For the sake of hi 3 little i child 1 thought J would many Philip Hueston. ! My soul moved toward the wee, motherless i dari ; ng. I was womanly in that. Fc.r the !' ;ake ola divided crown of motherhood 1 was willing to give myself away. 1 did not remem ber the ties that must come between that and i tne, but like a traveler who sees afar the height for which lie is longing, 1 forgot the roughened valleys that lay befre it. So 1 said, cooly and calmly lo my suitor: "I will be your wife, Mr. Hueston." This done, I turned to my sewing again. "But, excuse me, Miss Harwood, I shali be obliged to return home at the expiration of a week's time. Will you be able to accompa ny me ?" So soon as- that ? f thought, but I said : "Oh, yes ; my preparations will be siight, and I can go at one lime as well as another." He bowed and was about turning away, i detained him by asking for the child. He gave a quick, keen look into my face, a though stri ving to learn whether or not the thought of her troubled me. Instead of disquiet, he saw a smile. My eyes felt large with kindly light. "1 shall send the nurse with her in a day or two." I was a little disappointed in the answer.— f was laboring lor a prize, and T could not hear to have it removed so far from me, even for the short space ot a lew days, but I assented quiet ly, and commenced folding my work. There was a sober bridal outfit to be arranged, and i must not lose time on anything else. "A bridal outfit ?" I repeated the words to myself, thev were so strange. Pausing before a mirror, I thought flow poor I v orange flowers would twine wilh mv hair. If I could but have yew! Away back in the past, some one had said to me I hat nothing poorer than pearls ought ever to shine from the deep brown of my braids. I remem bered the words then, and caught them up as we sometimes catch a sound that is dead in its echo. 1 was a lutle weak for a moment, and felt like putling down the burden tiiat had ta ken so bravely a few moments before. But it was only foi a moment. The cross that :s not heavy enough to break may 'strengthen and wear : my shoulders would be fitted to u some lime, I said 1 never looked back after that, and in the | week's time I had become the wife of Philip j Hueston, and heard trom the hps of his two ! jear old babe the blessed word—"Mother !" What a stiange life I had after that—halt shadow, half sunshine. For the love of the j child 1 was blessed, and to it I gave every j thought, forgetting the sweet, tender claim ot wifehood that was upon me. Craven creature] that 1 was ! because death had entered my soul, BEDFORD, PA, FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 9,1860. I barred and locked ifs chambers, leaving but one iittle piace for the sunshine and the free air to riot in. I had known only the wants of childhood ; f had no mother to supply them : so it was that I grew into the gentleness of the i mother, and the little soul, grafted into the strong tree of mine, lived upon it, and the child became doubly my own. People said that I was cold and dead, on that first summer of my marriage ; and, in a sarcas tic way, * fiat I had made the beautiful house of iny husband as much of a tomb, as his first wife had a playground, and others, still, that 1 was working my way to the heart of the father through the love of the child. The gossip came to me in fragments, some from the old housekeeper who had a familiar footing everv where, othrs from the care-less tongued few who visited tne from time to time. But they did not move me. Sometimes as I frolicked with the child, May, I would be conscious that my husband was watching me closely. But I had no time, and less inclination, to interrupt his giancps.— I bad bee nne bis wife ns lie had asked rne.— Wife! what a dead, hollow word it was to me ! But one sultry August night, as we sat on the piazza together, the little one with her shi ning golden head resting on mv bosom, he said to me Irtting nis voice slide down to the low deep ton.*, to which it always descended when he was unusually earnest: "What if the child should betaken from you, Elizabeth ?" I opened my eyes widely upon htm, and held the golden head more Closely to my br east. " Taken, Mr. Hueston V' 1 said. "What if God should take the sunshine from us !" He smiled quickly, and turned his head away so that I couid not see his features plainly.— Did he feel that his question was destined to be the subject of a prophes}' 7 1 was not easy or happy afier it. Day nor night did I allow my child from my sight. Dear Gqd ' how I stifled with 103- mad lovt. The next week and she sickened —and still another week and she died! Her life was strongly bound in mine, and I prayed the Fa ther to take us together. But no ! mine was torn—she was freed ! At), I was a mother then ! The beautiful crown which I had fitted to my brow was ev ; ery bit that of motherhood. In my desolation I knew and felt it. "Oh, my God !" I cried, in the agony of heart, "she is all that I love upon earth ; spare | her !" j I felt the strong clasp of mv husband's arms about me as I spoke, I turned about and looked | him full in the face. His eyes had a strange 1 light in 'hem, but his features were calm and still. W.hat did he know of ajparent's love ? I said in'tnv heart. What was the white fa ced babe, with its pitiful dying cry of mamma ! mamma . to hirn ? "Don't hold me," I said, wrestling myseli from his arms; "my heart i breaking." "And mine, Elizabeth ." He paused and buried his face ;i\iiis hands, while I raised the little wasted darling in my ; arms. I was clasping death ; with he- it was stronger than I ; it took my light and I was | left in darkness. The davs were long that followed that night. The terrible shock aroused me from the lethar gy in which I had been. The ciear light of death had showed me the spot wlteie [ was standing ; showed me how deeply I had wronged the nnti whose name I bore. But what could Ido 1 He had not asked me lor my love, on ly to he Ins wife ; as though that word did not imply all that was true, pure and holy of the heart. What could Ido 1 The question haun ted me for weeks, and 1 moved about silent and spiritless. "The loss of httle May will kill her ?"'peo ple said, as shey looked upon my blanched Gee. I wished that I. could believe them. The week went away ami October, the month of golden mist and haze, can.e down silently upon cs. On one of its brightest mor nings I went into the library and seated my self by the window which overlooked the gar den. I did not know at first—not until I was drawn In the strong magnetism ot his gaze—that Mr.iiueslon was but a lew rods horn the house, busy with his plants. Of late I had learned to avoid him, but on seeing him there 1 did not move, only watched him Iroin the low window seat, wondering what it was that drew his deep eye to my face so oiten. At last he threw down his gardening hoe ami came to ward me. My Imart leaped to my throat. I thought that no common words were at his lips waiting for utterance. "Elizabeth, he begaj), coming close to' the open window, so near that his eye looked di rectly into mine," tell me, pleaie, do you love me?" Something in his manner moved me exceedingly. 1 tried to speak, but the words tainted upon my rny lips. " Tell me truly," he urged, still keeping his eyes fastened 011 mine. Was I to blame if he torced the answer from me f I could not, would not, tell him a false hood, and so 1 said, as firmly as I could : "I am alraid not, Mr. liustuii. You never asked me to, and—" "And what f" lie asked, almost fiercely, clasping my hand uutii I tiio't he would crush it. • "I thought you did not care for love, Sir,"

I added. "Who will ever be able to tell whether or not you are right in your conjecture?" lie said, dropping my hand and walking swiftly away- L >oking after him, I could but each the word "Who ?" After that, Mr. Hueston and I were almost as strangers to each other. Sometimes days would pass that I did not see or hear from him. When at home he treated me with cold, studi ed politeness that chilled me through. I did not Clink that he heated me justly, and yet I nad not the heart to complain. The punish ment inflicted upon me was small in conipau- Freedom of Thought and Opinion. I son to the sin I had committed. I did not love I him, I said repeatedly to myself, but what the 1 future might bring about I did not know. The lost was but an inward breath ; I never allowed it to resolve itself into words. I was too proud and unyielding for that. In the meantime, with this additional sorrow rankling and sting ing at ir.y heart, I grew thinner and paler than ever. I know that 1 moved like a shadow a tx>ut the old place—that there was no suriiight in my face—not even a quiet, secret happiness shining from my eye, and yet could not help it. "Are you ill, Mrs. Hueston ?" My husband asked the question one morning as I took my seat at the breakfast table. He spoke in a half starting way, as though at that moment he saw and comprehended the change that had had come over me. "I am quite well I answered, dropping my eyes before him. I think he was about to sppak but some sud den thought checked him. I knew that he was regarding me attentively, but I did not look up. "You remain within doors too much, I'm a fraid," he said, after a few moments pause. "I think not, Sir," I replied ; I do not care to go out very otten." "if you are unable to* walk, there is the carriage," be went on, as though the matter troubled him. "Oli yes, thank you. Some day I will drive home in it." 1 might have spoken in a pitiful way. I do not know. The home to which [ alluded was a ruined, crumbling cottage twelve miles dis tant, where [ had lived with my father and mother when L was a little child. It was all the home I could call my own. . "Home !" repeated Hueston, his voice go ing down to that low even melouy peculiar to —"God pity you !" l' looked up a little startled. I had not heard him speak so fervently for many months. The words touched me. In my heart I said, in voluntarily, as I met the deep glance ot his eyes — "it he would not only love me !" My soul was feeling about n darkness for its way. Was it touenmg the sinning track so soon ? After breakfast was over Mr. ifueston went into the garden and gathered a boquet of au tumn flowers for my room. As he placed "them in fny hand fie asked for a few moments' con versation with rne. I sank back into a chair, | clutching my fingers together among the deli c*te petal 3 of the flowers. "I have something to .ell you," he began, drawing his chair near mine. "Be patient with me : 1 will not task your forbearance long. Ot the past I am not going to speak, Elizabeth .lt is better dead, and you know us ways by blzrt as well as I—but of the painlul present, and I trust, lo you, a happier future. You do not love me, and because of that your face whitens day by day. If I remain here you will die ;so I am going away, leaving you as I can, that, apart from a presence that is dis tasteful to you, you may gather up life's roses again. I thought that I knew you whpn I was a stranger to your whole nature. Too late, by far too late, I learned this. We are all so wise in our own conceits ! All mv wealth is at your bidding—a poor price, indeed, I know, tor the stcrifice which you have made. That is all, and may God ble s you, Elizabeth !" j ' He held out his hand to me and mechanical ly I placed mine within it. He raised to his hps lor a moment, then turned and walked ra pidly liorn the room while I bowed my head lovvt-r and lower till my face crushed the blos soms upon my lap. Hours drilled away and 1 did not move or speak. Tfirougli the open windows the sounds of October were floating in—the chirping ol the cricket in the grate— the httle rough song of the locust and the twit tering ol the swallows. It was Autumn with out, out within my heart there was a beautiful resurrection of life's Spring. Among the flow ers my tears fell—the first that my eyes had known lor months. The strong, swift waters of my soul were unloosed at last, and the sweet, wifely love glimmered through them like sun shine. I did not obey the summons of the dinner bell, not even when the good housekeeper gravely hinted that it was the last time that Mr. Hueston wouidine at home beiore he went away—he was to leave by the first train the next morning—nor in spite of her solicitious urging did Igo down to tea. I knew that Mr. Hueston would wonder at my absence, and I was willing that he should. When the twilight had gathered dark and purple through the house, I went into the parlor and opened the piano—it had been dumb for months—and rang out a merry tune. My husband walking oa the piazza, out upon which the low, deep windows led. He paused a moment in his walk as the sound ol the music fell upon his ear, then hurried on faster, as it to escape from it. I went to the window. His garments brushed mine as he pased up and down, but he did not heed me. I knew that my light robe fluttered in the soft breeze, and I Drought he turned away his head that he might not see it. j 1 stepped lightly on the piazza ana stepped in \ his way, holding out my hand to him. He did not take it ; instead, he retreated a few paces, i followed him. "The night air is chilly and you ate with out a mantle," he said. "Allow me to lead you in." I stood immovable before linn, with my very heart breaking upon my lips, and yet I coula not speak. "Have you something to say to me before I go ?" he asked, bendiug ,his head towards me. "Yes," I gasped, "a great deal." lie came nearer to me, and bent his head a little lower. "Do not go without me, I'liilip—my husband !" I cried trying to get v ilh.n shelter of Ins arms. "Elizabeth !" The word came in a low, measured way i frotn his lips. Wa9 I deceived then after all ? Was he serving himself more than me in giv ing me up ? In the the frenzy of the thought I clasped both my haud3 about his artn, and said : "You do not love me ! Merciful God, have pity !" He understood me at last, and a9tho' I had been a babe held me in his arms and held me passionately to his'breast. How strong and tender he was! What a blessed sense of peace and security came to my heart as I rested there ! "L am so happy," I said, amid tears and sobs. He only held me closer murmuring, "My wife ! my wife COUNTRY MPUTIN' TALK. An Illinois editor, who sometimes has an "attack of phonography," recently attended a country "meetin'," where lie took down the different topics ot conversation. "Vote for Lovejoy !" exclaimed a political aspirant indignantly, "I'd as soon vote lor Wrr. Lloyd Garrison himself, loaded down as he is with " "Two of the fattest beef critter? you ever set your eyes on interrupted a dealer in cattle, "that I sold for " "That horrid yellow dress again," exclaimed Miss Spruce in what might have sounded like a whisper it she had been on the other side of the room, "painted too, half an inch thick, and wears " "Teeth and toe-nails to get the office broke in another politician, "but people will not trust him again ; b< sides he is " "Spavined in both hind legs, wind broken i and foundered to boot, as I told Jarvis at the I time, and it will take " ' One tea-cup full of butter, two of sugar, three of flour, four eggs, and a sprinkle of nut meg makes " "Both ends meet, when the year comes round | poor woman, lor she has got six children, the | oldest one blind, and " "No saddle or bridh* to ride him with ; some body stole it, while I was gone to Chicago af ter " "the long promised millenial day, which we have no doubt is to be brought out the ministration of " "Two Dutchmen, a monkey, and a hand organ to grind it ; and oh !it made*!he funniest music, and the little figures danced about like ?> * 0 "?\'ine thousand miles railroad track, and this at an estimated cost of " "Five cents a dozen I sold four hens to Mrs. Wilson, and the hawks carried of! three, besides any number of chickens, and " "Such a handsome young man ;Attd he dan ces so beautiful. Did you ever see a handsome pair of whiskers, or a more insinuating j> "Handle to my tea-pot, and Tom declared that he had not touched it at all, and 1 knew Emilv hadn't for she had been all the time "Running at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour with no head lights on : and around a curve at that, when the locomotive broke the budge over " "That young Miss Bnvrie that had the small-pox last spring. They do av that she is going to marry " "The scarlet fever and the whooping cough, and I don't know what he hasn't had, poor lit tle darling ! This is the first time I have taken liitn out since "Tne Mexican war which I consider perfect !v unjustifiable, unless it is on the ground that It "The preacher has come," exclaimed a boy, and depositing mv report in my "pocket, I pro ceeded into the school-house to muse upon the utility of phonography. REUBEN TODD'S BAD SPELL. The importance of spelling correctly is by the following, especially the necessity of spelling Lager Beer as at should be. A coun tiy rumseiler wishing a supply of that beverage wrote as^follows : Bungvtlle, Juli, the 1 ISGO. ! Messrs Blotch & Drinker sen me up as soan ! as possible a cask of Brandy and one Large Bear for forth of Juli sen the Bear by expres in Haist Reuben Todd. I The answer came as follows : Mr. Todd—Dear Sir : —We send you to-day one cask of brandy ami the Bear by express as requested. You must feed him on raw meat, and be very careful that he does not escape as he is very savage. He cost SIOO and we let you have him for the same. Pleas forward Payment. Yours respectfully. Blotch &, Drinker. j The consternation of Reuben Todd was com plete when the furious animal was landed at his shop door with a half scared curious crowd j around it, and it was only by a sacrifice of the 1 cask of brandy for a keeper, and a couple of trips to New York, that he got rid of his ugly j pioperty and learned how to spell Lager Beer. I SOME one tells a good story of a hroad-backed ; Kentuckian who went down to Orleans for the first time. Whisky, brandy and plain drinks ' he knew, but as to compound and flavored li- 1 quors he was a know-nothing. Repcsing on the seats of the court of the St. Charles, he observed a score of the fasnionabies drinking mint juleps. "Boy," said he, "bring me a glass of that j beverage." When he had consumed the cooling draught, i he called the boy. "Boy, what was my last remark ?" "Why, you ordered a julep." "That's right, don't forget it—keep bringing , 'em." K?*A writer asks if any one can inform a poor man the best way to slait a nursery ' Certainly. Get married. WHOM: DUMBER, £BS2. VOL. 5. NO. 14. A Torching ArrEAL.— Morgan a pare that (log, Touch not a single hair ; He worries rrany a hog From out his muddv lair. Oil, when he was a pup, So frisky and so plump, He lapped his milk from a cup, Wh-n hungry—at a jump, And then his funny tricks, So funny in their place, So full of canine licks, Upon your hands and face. \ou will surely let him live! Oh, do not kill him—dead He wags his narraiive And prays for life—not lead. Go get the muzzle now, And put it upon his mouth, And stop that bow, wow, wow ! And tendency to drought. He is your children's pet, Companion cf their joy ; Tou will not kill him yet, And thus their hopes destroy. No, Morgan, spare that pup, And go away from there ! NOT BAD. —''First class in oriental philoso phy stand up. Thibets, what is life ?" "Life consists of money, a horse, and a fast wife." "Nest. What is death V' '•A paymaster who settles everybody's debts, and gives the tombstone as receipt in full of all demands." "What is poverty ?" "The reward of merit genius generally re ceives from a discriminating public."' "What is religion ?" "Doing nnto others as you please, without al lowing a return of the compliment." "What is fame ?" "A six line puff in a newspaper while Jiv j ing, and your lortune to your enemies when you are dead." | CT"A young bachelor, who ban been ap pointed deputy sheriff, was called to serve an attachment against a beautiful j'oung widow. He accordingly called upon her, and said : | "Madam I have an attachment for you." Ihe widow blushed and saiu she was happy to inform him that his attachment was recipro j cated. "You do not understand me ; vou must pro j ceed to court." i "I know it is leap year, sir, but I prefer you ! would do the courting." j "Mrs. K, this is no time for trifling, the jus j tice is waiting." "The justice. Why, I should prefer a par | son !" TT"Richards was an inveterate chewer ot j tobacco. To break himself of the habit, he took | up another, which was that of making a pledge i about once a month that he would never chew i another piece. He broke his pledge just as of ten as he made it. The last time I had seen ' him he told me he had broken olf for good, but ! now as I met him ha was taking another i chew. J "Why Richards," says I, "yon told me you j had given up that habit, but I see you are at it i again." "Yes he replied, T have gone to chewing, and ; lelt off lying." j (CF*A farmer once hired a Vermonter to as j sist in drawing logs. The Yankee, when there | was a log to lift, generally tried to secure the i smallest end, for which the farmer reproved | him, and told him always to take the butt end. Dinner came, and with it a sugar loaf Indian pudding. Jonathan sliced ofTa generous por tion of the largest part, giving the farmer the wink, and exclaimed : "Always take the butt ! end !" [CT*A Yarmouth malster hired an Irishman, "a green hand," to assist in loading his sloop with malt. Just as the vessel was about to set sail, the Irishman, who W3s jingling the price of his days work in his pocket, cried out from the quay : "Captain ! I lost your shovel overboard ; but T cut a big notch on the rail lence around the starn, right over the spot where it went down so you can find it when you come back." [lT"Before the days of tetotallers, a neighbor of Mr. Bisbee saw the gentleman, tt an early hour of the day, crawling slowly homeward on his hands and knees over the frozen ground. "Why don't you get up, Mr. Bisbee ? Why don't you get up and walk?" said his neigh bor. "I w-w-wotffd, o-b-but it's so mighty thin here, that I'm afraid I sh-sh-shall b-b-break through." QT"" Where are you going ?'"said a young gentleman to an elderly one in white cravat, whom he overtook a few miles from Little Rock. "I am going to heaven, my son ; I have been on the way tor more than eighteen years." "Well, good by, old hoss, if you have been traveling towards heaven for eighteen years and got no nearer than Arkansas, I'll take an other route." uT"Have you anything else old ?" said an English lady at Rome, to a boy, of whom she had bought some antiques. "Yes,', said the urchin, thrusting forward his hat, which h3d seen some dozen summers, "my hat is old." The lady rewarded his wit. [rr~"ls this your only suit, Jerry ' it's rather shabby." "0, no, I've got another." "Where 1" "In Court." LL/" "I'm getting fat," as ttie loafer said when 1 he was stealing lard.