VOM'WE J57. NEW SERIES. IfROAD TOP RAILROAD! " £2* m >■' ?■ • Arrsnvements have been effected between the PE NNSYLVANIA (t. R. CO. and HUNTINGDON S; BROAD TOP K. It. CO.. by wiiich Freights are transported at the following low rates ; From Hopewell to Philadelphia, Flout, 621 cents per b ir rel Grain, ol cents per JOO lb*. Merchandize West ward, From Philadelphia to Hopewell, per too bs. Ist Class, 7.i cents. 2d class, 60 cts. 3.1 class '.VI cents. 4th class. 35 cents. Salt and Plaster, in cents. _ , '•'reiohTs Westward ire received at tho I ennsyl v-inta Railroad Station, 13th and Market Streets, Philadelphia, and forwarded daily. Freights Eastward are received at 'be Hopeweil <t,!ionV Broadtop K. R-, and forwarded d.iily. station o. o i s _ B KINGSTON, IR., Fieiht agent, Pen'na. It. It. Co., Phil'a. S. S. Ff.CCK, krei"ht Agent. H.& B- T. R. R-. Hopewell Station. HidillesUiig Goal, Fine and Lump, always on hand ,nd for sale. g g FI UCK Sept. 7, 1860. riONFKCTKINARY I j AND GROC F. R Y . THF. undersigned has just icceived and keps constantly on hand the following articles:— Coffee, sugar, molasses, cheese, cracker*, currants, pr,mes, raisins, figs, almonds, filberts, cocoa nnts, , round nuts, pecans, Eng. walnuts, cream nut*, can ties in variety, oranges, lemon*, tobacco and cigars, allspice and pepper, spices of all kind*, baking *o ,la, cream of tartar, sulphur, brimstone, canister and keg powder, shot, caps and lead, grain and grass scythes, whetting tools, wash tubs and boards, ln di"o, extract logwood, copperas, alum and madder, oif, polish and Mason's blacking, sweeping, dusting ,tove, shoe and scrubbing, brushes, clothe*, hair, 'tootli and flesh brushes,hat and infant brushes, hair oils and perfumery, purses and port rnonaies, pock et and memorandum books, bonnet and round gum combs, "raiding" and fine combs, bracelets and beads, pens,pen-holders, penknives, scissor*, knile sharpeners, umbrellas, suspenders, spool cotton *nd floss, clocks, small looking glas*e*, violins, v in}in strings, toy watches, watch chains, curry combs, cariLq horse brushes, shoe-thread, pegs an spara bles, Johfison's Arabian Liniment, Rock and Littie s 'White Oil, Merchant's celebrated Gargling Oil, tor marvor beast, and many other articles ot a similar nature. The patronage of the public is respectlully A. L. DEFIBAUGH. June 17,'59.-1 v, I>LOODY run foundry 1 > AND MACHINES 11 O P. f nr. subscribers are now prepared "at thei Foundry in Bloody P.un, to fill all orders for Castings of every description for GRIS T .7. \I) SJIIV-Mt L LS, TIIR HIXG MACHINES, APPLE MILLS, PLOUGHS and all things else in our line that may be needed in this or adjoining counties. We marrnfacture Threshing Machinesof2, tor Horse fov't, WARRANTED equal if not superior to any made in the State. We keep constantly on hand a full assortment of Wood Cock, Plug and HillsideFloughs, WARRANTED to give satisfac tion, or tio sale. Points, sharps mid laud sides to fit all Woodcock, or Seyler ploughs in the county. Farmers' Bells, Ploughs and Castings of our make may be had at the store of Wm. Hartley, in Bedford, Sonderbaugh & Pee, East Providence Tp., John Nycum & Son, " " Times being hard, we offer great inducements to •Farmers and Mechanics to buy of us. All kinds of repairing done in a neat and substan tial manner and all work warranted. Call and ex •nmine our castings and work and judge lor your selves. Our agents sell at foundry prices. JOSIAH BA UGH MAN A BRO. Maich 20, 1853. IyOLNDRY k MACHINE SHOE, THE snbscrbers having formed a partnership under the style of "Dock & Aschom" lor the pur pose of conducting a general FOUNDRY AND MACHINE business in the establishment recently erected by Gilliard Dock, in Hopewell, Bedford county, are nnw prepared to execute orders for CASTI.\<rS ANI) MAC lITNEIi Y of everv description. They will' build to order steam-engines, coal and drift-cars, horse powers and threshii g machines—also, casting of every kind lor furnaces, forges, saw, grist and rolling mills, ploughs, water-pipe, columns, house fronts, brackets, ftc., He. They are also, now making a fine assortment of SI'OVES of various kinds ol the latest patterns and rno*t approved style*, including several s-zes of COOK STOVES of the best make, betting stoves lor chmcbes, offices, bar-rooms, He. 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 qua! to the be st Eastern make. Machinery of all lads repaired promptly. Patterns made to order. GILLIARD DOCK, C. W. ASCHOM. Nov. It, 1852 t>edford county map. I Will make a directory map of Bedford County from actual surveys, if a sufficient number of sub i scribers can be raised to justily me in the enter- j prise. The map will be large and well finished and will show the location of all the public roads streams, boundary lines, towns, villages, Hotels, Churches, School Houses, Post Offices, slores, grist mills, saw mills d-c., He., and will contain the names ol all the property holders, and show the busines that almos: each one is engaged in 1 will put on the sain* sheet maps of all the towns and large villages, also •ables and statistics ot the County and (if taken in tune) the census ol 1860. Pains will he taken to make it a* reliable as any Map in the State. Inlv 1,'59. EDW'D. L. WALKER. \\j amil\ roy norsi;, >V BEDFORD, PA. MRS. S. FILLER would respectfully announce to her friends in Bedford County, and 'o the public generally, that she ha* leased, lor a teiin ol years, the large and convenient brick hotel, at the corner of Pitt and Juliana streets. Bedford, Pa., known as the-'WASHINGTON HOUSE," and lately kept by MRS. COOK. This bouse is being thoroughly re fitted and refurnished, and is now open for the re ception of guests. Visitors to the "81-.D! OKI) SPRINGS" and persons attending Court, will find this house a pleasant and comfortable temporary home.—Every attention will be paid to the comfort and accommodation ot guests. The tubie will at u!i timet be supplied with the best the markets uffoid. Charges moderate. Extensive stabflng is attached to this hotel, 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. \ LOTOF PURE MAPLE SUGAR,FOR SALE j " Ju!y2o,'Go. A. L: DF.FIBAUGH. ' THE BEDFORD GAZETTE -®- IS Pdr.T.TSHEC EVERY FRIDAY MORNING SSV B. I'. TIEYUttN, At ihe following terms, to wit: $1.50 per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " if paid within the year. $2.50 " if not paid within the year. CT?"No subscription taken for less than six months. CK?"No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher, it fiae tieen decided by the United States Courts that tbs stoppage of a newspaper without toe payment ot ar rearages, is prima facie, evidence ol fraud and is a criminal offence. KF~The courts have decided that person* are ac countable for the subscription price of newspapers, it they take them from the post office,whether they subscribe for them, or not. SMDUW yniksunsjiine. "Elizabeth—Miss Harwood—will you be my wife ?" These were the words of my dignified suit or, Philip llueslon, as fie stood before me one dull, drizzly April morning. I was not sur prised to hear him speak in this manner. Be lore fie moved Ins lips f knew the words he would utter, and vet a block ot 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 ol the win dow and saw the wide fields with the first faint flush of gieen upon them—saw the mist afar ott'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 ail this, and yet nothing taught rne how to answer the question that had been asked me. My hie run on dull and sunless through ail the year, I thought. Tu its spring it was forgotten, and its bursting buds had wi'.iiered and died waiting for the blessed summer that would never come to it. if I raised my brows pitifully, asking tor the touch of a few flowers, should Ibe crowned only with thorns 2 I leaned my head upon my hand as I thought of it. Mr. Hties ton was still standing before me. "Aitss liar wood !" fie said, as if to remind me of Ids presence. I looked up into his face. It was a hand some, grave countenance, and not unpleasant to look upon. The mouth was full, 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, had a touch of fire and passion in their depths, as though they were strong enough to translate at times the soul that from them. Bui look as keenly as I might I could not read the secret of his preference fur in. He was a rich man-; I a poor girl with a dead heart.— My cousins (I was an inmate ot my uncle's house,) were gay, fashionable ar.d beautiful— why did he turn from them to me ? He did not say that he loved me. I liked that. He had been a mairied man once, to a butterfly of wealth and fashion; perhaps her grave held, or her life hail killed out everv sweet thought of passion and tenderness. 1 did not care to know which it was. So cold a wooing 1 thought would not lead out to a sunshine of love and romauce. But the flowers for which I ask-d, what of them ? Ah. one spot of my heart had been left uns-al ed when the bla.-t came that made its surface hard and impenetrable. I knew and felt thi. Through the narrow portal would God's bless ing ever thrill 2 For the sake of his little child I thought 1 would many Philip Hueston. My soul moved toward the wee, motherless dari'ng. I was womanly in that. Fr.r the sake of a divided crown of motherhood 1 was willing to give myself away. 1 did not remem- I her the ties that must come between that anil ' me, but like a traveler who sees afar lite height i . for which lie is longing, I forgot the roughened valleys that lay before it. So 1 said, cooly and calmly to my suitor: "1 will be your wife, Mr. Hueston." This done, 1 turned to my sewing again. "But, excuse me, Miss Harwood, 1 shall be obliged to return home at the expiration of a week's time. Will you be able to accompa ny urn ?" So soon as that ? 1 thought, but I said : "On, yes ; my preparations will be slight, and I can go at one lime as well as another." He bowed and was about turning away. 1 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 ol her troubled me. Instead of disquiet, he saw a smile. My eyes felt large with kindly light. "1 shall send the nurse will; her in a day or two." I was a little disappointed in the answer.— I was laboring for a prize, and I cotild not hear to have it removed so far from me, even for the short space ot a few days, but I assented quiet ly, and commenced folding tnv work. There was a sober bridal outfit to he arranged, and I must not lose tirne on anything *dse. "A bridal outfit?" I repeated the words to myself, thev were so strange. Pau-ing before a mirror, I thought iiuw poorly orange fluwers would twine wilh mv hair. If I could but have yew! Away back in the oast, some one had said to me 1 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. I was a little weak for a moment, and felt like putting down the burden that had ta ken so bravely a few moments belore. 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 it some time, I said 1 never looked back after that, and in the week's time 1 had become the wife of Philip Hueston, and heard from the hps of his two year old babe the blessed word—"Mother !" Wha' a s'.iange life I had after that —half s-hadow, half sunshine. For the love of the chiht 1 was blpssed, and to it I gave every thought, forgetting the sweet, tender ciaun of wifehood that was upon me. Craven creature | that 1 was! because death had entered my soul, BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 0,1800, 1 1 barred and locked its chambers, leaving but j one little place for the sunshine and the free air jto riot in. I had known only the wants of i childhood ; f had no mother to supply them ; so j it was that I grew into the gentleness of the * toother, and the little soul, grafted into the | strong treeof 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, that 1 had made the beautiful house j of rny husband as much of a tomb, as his first i wife had a playground, and others, still, that 1 1 was working my way to the heart of the father j through the love of the child. The gossip , came to me in tragments, some from the old | housekeeper who had a familiar footing every j where, others from the careless tongued few : who visited me from lime to time. But they j did not move me. Sometimes as I frolicked with the child, i May, I would be conscious that my husband was watching me closely. But 1 had no time, and less inclination, to interrupt his glances.— I had bee mm his wife as he had asked me.— 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 -1 timg golden head resting on mv bosom, he said |to me h t!ing ftis voice slide down to the low ■ deep tone, to which it always descended when he was unusually earnest: j "What if the child should be taken.from you, , Elizabeth V' 1 opened my eyes widely upon htm, and held the golden head more Closely to my breast. "Taken, Mr. Hueston V' I said. "What if God should take the sunshine from us!" He smiled quickly, and turned his head away ' so that I could not see his features plainly.— . Did he feel that his question was destined to be I the subject of a prophesy 7 I was not easy or ] happy after it. Day nor night did I allow my child from my sight. Dear Gqd ' how I stifled with 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 ! Ah, 1 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 1 love upon earth ; spare j her !" | I felt the strong clasp of my husband's arms i about me as I spoke, I turned about and looked j him full in the face. His eyes had a strange ( light in them, but his features were calm and j still. W.hat did he know of ajparent's love ? ! I said in'my heart. What was the white fa | ced babe, with its pitiful dying cry of mamma ! mamma . to him ? | "Don't hold me," I said, wrestlin<r mysell from his arms; "my heart i breaking." j "And mine, Elizabeth ." He paused and buried his face ii\ his hands, j while I raised the little wasted darling in my • arms. I was clasping death ; with her it was stronger than f; it took my light and 1 was left in darkness. The davs were long that followed that night. The terrible shack aroused me from th- lethar |gy in which I had been. The clear light of death had showed me the spot wheiu I was standing ; showed me hovv deeply I hat! wronged | the man whose name I bore. But what could fdo 7 He had not asked me for mv ln'e, on | !y to be tos wife ; as though that word did not imply all that was true, pure and holy of the 'heart. What could Ido 7 The question haun ted me for weeks, and 1 moved about silent aad j spiritless. ! "Tile loss of little May will kill her v'peo ; pie said, as shey looked upon my blanched 1 tee. ! 1 wished that I could believe them. The week went away and October, the j month of golden mist and haze, cane down i silently upon us. On one of its- brightest mor nings 1 went LIIIO the library and seated mv- I sell by the window which overlooked the gar den. I ditl not know at first—not until 1 was drawn bv the strong magnetism ot his gaze-that ! Mr. Hueston was but a lew rods from the bouse, I 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 j 1 window seal, wondering what it was that drew j ; his deep eye to my lace so otten. At last he j threw down his gardening hoe and came to- | ward me. My heart leaped lo my throat. I thought that no common words were at his lips waiting for utterance. "Elizabeth, he coming close to' the open window, so near that ins eye looked di rectly into mine," tell me, please, do you love me?" Something in his manner moved me exceedingly. 1 tried to speak, but the words tainted upon my rny lips, "fell me truly," be urged, still keeping his eyes fastened 011 mine. Was I to blame if he forced the answer from nm 2 1 could not, would noi, tell him a false hood, and so 1 said, as firmly as f could : "I am alraiJ not, Air. Huston. You never asked me to, and—" "And what 7" lie asked, almost fiercely, clasping my hand until I tho'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 7" lie said, dropping my hand and walking swiftly away Looking after hiin,l could but each the word " W ho ?" 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 think that he heated nie 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. son to the sin I had committed. I did not love him, I said repeatedly to myself, hut what the 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 my heart, I grew thinner and paler than ever. I know that I moved like a shadow a bout the old place—that there was no sunlight in my face—not even a quiet, secret happiness shining from my eve, and yet could not help it. "Are you ill, Mrs. Hueston ?" My husband asked the question one morning as I took iny seat at the breakfast table. He spoke in a half startiug 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 m_v eyes before him. I think he was about to speak 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 fraiil," he said, after a few moments pause. "I think not, Sir," I replnd ;I do not care to go out very otten." "If you are unable to walk, there is the carriage," he went on, as though the matter troubled hirn. "Oli yes, thank you. Some day I will drive home in it." 1 nught have spoken in a pitiful way. I do not know. The home to which I alluded was a ruined, crumbling cottage twelve miles dis tant, where I had lived with my father and mother when I was a little child. It was all the borne I could cail mv own. , "Home !" repeated Hueston, his voice go ing down to that low even melody peculiar to —"God pitv you !" I looked up a little startled. I had not heard hi:n speak so fervently for many months. The words touched me. In my heart I said, in voluntarily, as I met the deep glance of his eyes— "*if he would not only love me !" My soul was feeling about n darkness for its way. Was it touching the shusuig track so soon 7 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 hiy hand lie asked for a few moments* con versation with me. 1 sank back into a chair, clutching my fingers together among tile deli cate petul3 of the flowers. "I have something to .ell you," he began, flawing his chair near mine. "Be patient with me ; 1 will not task your fotbearance long. Ol the past I am not going to speak, Elizabeth —it is belter dead, and you know its ways bv lirzit as well as I—but ot the painful present, and 1 trust, to you, a happier luture. You do not love me, and because of that your face whitens day by day. It I remain here you will die ;so I ain going away, leaving you as I can, that, apart irom a presence that is dis tastelul to you, you may gather up life's roses again. 1 thought that i knew you when I was a stranger to your whole nature. Too late, bv far too late, 1 learned this. We are all so wise in our own conceits ! All my wealth is at your bidding—a poor price, indeed, I know, for the sicrifice which you have made. That is all, and may God hie-* you, Elizabeth !" He held out his hand to me and mechanical ly I placed mine within it. He raised to his lips lor a moment, then turned and walked ra pdly horn the room while I bowed my head iower ami lower till my face crushed the blos soms upon my lap. Hours drilled away and 1 did not move or speak. Through the open windows the sounds ot October were floating hi —the ciiirping of the cricket in the grate— the little rough song of the locust and the twit tering of the swallows. It was Autumn with out, nut 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 lasi, and the sweet, witeiy 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 woui dine at home belore tie 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, 1 went into the parlor and opened the piano —it had been dumb for months—and rang out a merry tune. My husband walking on the piazza, out upon which tile low, deep windows led. He paused a moment in his waik as the sound ol the music fell upon his ear, Hieii hurried on faster, as it to escape from it. 1 went to the window. His garments brushed mine as lie pased up and down, but he did not heed me. 1 knew that my light robe fluttered 111 the solt breeze, and i thought he turned away his head that tie might not see it. 1 stepped ligbily ou ttie piazza and stepped in his way, holding out mv hand to him. He did not take it ; instead, he retreated a few paces. 1 followed him. "The night air is chilly and you are with out a mantle," he said. ''Allow me to lead you in." I stood immovable before hun, with my very heart breaking upon my lips, and yet I coula not speak. "Have you something to say to me before I go 7" he asked, bending ,his head towards rne. "Yes," I gasped, "a great deal." He came nearer to me, and bent his head a little lower. "Do not go without me, Philip—my tiusband !" I cried trying to get within shelter ol Ins arms. "Elizabeth !" The word came in a low, measured way t frotn his lips. Was I deceived then after all 7 Was he serving himself more than me in giv ing me up 7 In the the frenzy of the thought I clasped both my bauds about his arm, and said : "You do not love me ! Alercifo! God, have pity !" He understood me at last, and as tho' I had been a babe held me in his arms and held me passionately to his'breast. How strong and tender lie was ! What a blessed sense of peace and security came fo my heart as I rested there ! "I am so happy," I said, amid tears and sobs. He only held me closer murmuring, "My wife ! my wife !" COUNTRY M LET IN TALK. An Illinois editor, who sometimes has an "attack of phonography," recently attended a country "meetm'," where he took down the different topics ot conversation. "Vote for Lovejoy !" exclaimed a political aspirant indignantly, "I'd as soon vote for Wrr, Llojd Garrison himself, loaded down as he is with " "Two of the fattest beef critters you ever set your eyes on ;" interrupted a dealer in cattle, "that 1 sold for " "That horrid jellow dress again," exclaimed Miss Spruce in what might havesounded like a whisper it she had been on the other sideot 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 and foundered to boot, as I told Jarvis at the time, and it will take " ' One tea-cup foil 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, for she has got six children, the oldest one blind, and " I'Nfo saddle or bridl to ride hirn with ; some body stole it, while I was gone to Chicago af ter " "the long promised millenial which we have no doubt is to he brought out 'through the ministration of " "Two Dutchmen, a monkey, and a hand organ to grind it ; and oh ! it made'the funniest music, and the little figures danced about like ' J 9 "Nine thousand miles Tailroad track, and this at an estimated cost of " "Five cents a dozen I sold four hens to Mrs. Wilson, and the hawks carried off threp, besides any number of chickens, and " "Such a handsome young man ; And he dan ces so beautiful. Did you ever see a handsome pair ol whiskers, or a more insinuating "Handle to my tea-pot, and Tom declared that he had net touched it at all, and f knew Emily hadn't for she had been all the time *>? "Running at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour wilh no head lights on ; and around a curve at that, when the locomotive broke the budge over " "That young Miss Bro-vqie that had the small-pox last spring. They do say that she is going to marry " "The scarlet fever and the whooping cough, and I don't know what lie hasn't had, poor lit tle darling ! This is the tiist tune I have taken hiin out since " "Tne Mexican war which I consider perfect !y unjustifiable, unless it is ou the ground that "The preacher has come," exclaimed a boy, and depositing mv report in my I pro- I ceeded into the school-bouse 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 rumseller wishing a supply of that beverage | wrote as^ follows : Bungville, Juli, the 1 ISGO. [ Messrs Blotch &. Drinker sen me up as soon | as possible a cask of Brandy and one Large Bear | for forth of Juli sen the Bear by expres in Haist , Reuben Todd. j I'he answer came as follows : Mr. Todd Dear Sir :—We send you to-day j one cask of brandy and the Bear by •xpross as requested. You must feed him on raw meat, ' and be very careful that he does not escape as ' lie is very savage. He cost SIOO and we let ! you have him for the same. Pleas forward j Payment. Yours respectfully, Blotch &. Drinker. The consternation of Reuben Todd was com plete when the furious animal was landed at iiis shop door with a halt scared curious crowd around it, and it was only by a sacrifice of the cask of brandy for a keeper, and a couple of 1 flips to New York, that he got rid of his ugly 1 property and learned how to spell Lager Beer. ! SOME one tells a good story of a broad-backed ' Kentuckian who went down to Orleans for the 1 first time. Whisky, brandy and plain drinks 1 he knew, but as to compound and flavored li- i qnors he was a know-nothing. liepcsing on the seats of the court of the St. j Charles, he observed a score ol the fasnionabies j drinking mint juleps. "Boy," said he, "bring me a glass of that j beverage." When he had consumed the cooling draught, j he called the boy. "Rov, what was my last remark 7" "Why, you ordered a julep." "1 fiat's right, don't forget it keep bringing ( 'em." Oy*A writer asks if any one can inform a poor man the best way to start a nurserv ' Certainly. Get married. vi iiori: KinsKft, ssss. A Torching APPEAL.— Morgan- spare that dog, I ouch not a single hair ; He worries many a hog from out his muddy lair. Oh, when he was a pup, So frisky and so plump, lie lapped his milk Irom a cup, Wh°n hungry— at a jump, And then his funny tricks, So funny in their place, So full ol canine licks, Upon your hands and face. You 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 how, wow, wow ! And tendency to drought. He is your children's pet, Companion cf their joy ; \ou will not kill liimyet, And thus their hopes destroy. No, Morgan, spare that pup, And go away Irom there ! NOT BAD. —''First class in oriental philoso phy stand up. Thibets, what is life ?" "Lite consists of money, a horse, and a fast Wile." "Nest. What is death ?" '•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 gpnius generally re ceives from a discriminating public."' "What is religion ?" "Doing unto others as you please, without al lowing a return of the compliment." "What is fame ?" "A six line puff in a newspaper while liv ing, and your fortune to your enemies when you are dead." [CP"A young bachelor, who hao been ap pointed deputy sheriff, was called to serve an attachment against a beautiful young widow. He accordingly called upon her, and said : "Madam 1 iiave an attachment for you." I de widow blushed and saiu she was happy to inform him that his attachment was recipro cated. "You do not understand me ; you must pro ceed to court." "I know it is leap year, sir, but I prefer you would do the courting." "Mrs. K, this is no time for trifling, the jus tice is waiting." "1 be justice. \\ hy, I should prefer a par son !" !TF"Kichards was an inveterate chewer of tobacco. To break himself of the habit, he took up another, which was that of making a pledg about once a month that he would never che"w another piece. He broke his pledge just as of ten as he made it. The last time I had seen hi in he told me he had broken off for good, but now as I met him he was taking another chew. "Why Richards," says I, "yoo told me yau had given up that habit, but I see you are at it again." "Yes he replied, I have gone to*chewing, and left off lying." ! [C7*"A farmer once hired a Verroonter !r> as j sist in drawing logs. The Yankee, when there j was a log to lift, generally tried to secure the i smallest end, for which the farmer reproved j him, and told him always to take the butt end. Dinner came, and with it a sugar loaf Indian pudding. Jonathan sliced otT a generous por ; tionof the largest part, giv ing the farmer the : wink, and exclaimed : "Always take the butt i end !" j Yarmouth malster hired an Irishman, "a green hand," to assist in loading his sloop i with malt. Just as the vessel was about to set j sail, the Irishman, who was "jingling the price j ofhis days work in his pocket, cried out from | the quay : "Captain ! I lost your shovel overboard ; but f 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." ft'/'Belore the days of tetotallers, a neighbor of Mr. Bisbep saw the gentleman, at 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 1 Why ' don't you get up and walk 1 ?" said his neigh | bor. "I w-w-wotfTd, o-b-but it's so mighty thin here, that I'm afraid I sh-sh-shall b-b-break through." QTT 3 "" Where are you going ?" 'said a young gentleman to an elderly one in white cravat, whom he overtook a few miles from Little | Rock. j "I am going to heaven, my son ; I have been j on the way tor more than eighteen ypars." "Well, good by, old hoss, if you have been | traveling towards heaven for eighteen years I and got no nearer than Arkansas, I'll take an | othei route." !T7""lJave you anything else old ?" said an | English lady at Rome, to a boy, of whom she had bought some antiques. es,', said the urchin, thrusting forward his hat, which had seen some dozen summers, "my hat is old." The lady rewarded his wit. this your only suit, Jerry 1 it's rather shabby." I "(), no, I've got another." 1 "Where I" i "In Court." I tU r "I'm getting fat," as the loafer said when 1 he was stealing lard. VOL. 5. NO. 14.