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SED G+EFiIE D ________ _______
5 Dentottatft Jouvual, Utbotet to Sout~tru NIts, tur, Soltit EeraI *utcIligete, Kitaturt, jtieraitte, et taue, gicultut
"Wo will cling to the Piflars of the Temple of our 'eS, and if it must fall, we will Perish amidst the Ruins. -
W. C. MORAGEEFIELD, S. C., JANUTAR 21851. )N
W.~~~~~~~~~~~~~; F.DRSE rpimIEGFILS ,JNAY181
THE DYING YEAR,
BY C. HUNTINGTON.
Hrush-hush ! the year is dying
Hark! through the old forest dim
The walling winds are sighing
Their requiem over him
In quiet, deep and holy,
He sinks to his repose;
And languidly and slowly
His weary eye-lids close.
Now some v 1' tearful sadness,
The parting year review;
While others hail with gladness,
Thc-advent of the new.
In glad young hearts are swelling
Fresh fountains of delight,
In many a festive dwelling
The Christmas fires are bright.
And stricken ones are weeping
Beside the darkened hearth,
O'er loved and lost ones sleeping
Low in the tranquil earth
Strange-strange-what bitter blighting
What deeds to startle thought
Wild, woniderful, exciting,
One short, sad year bath wrought I
While we stir the dust of ages,
Time's dreamy realms explore
Spell out from mould'ring sages,
Their quaintly written lore
. 'Twere well to bind this lesson,
For profit, on the heart,
"Men only live to hasten,
Like shadows to -depart."
From the London Family Herald.
" Way are you so-sad, dear Mabel ?"
"I feel as if this were the last evening
we should ever spend together, Harry a
- iTshav !" said Mr. Delafield; "you
are sodesponding, it is enough to-discour
lg jIme, Mabel-a wife should always
en ge her husband by cheer
hould h o..so'
neokand lookedearn nis'ese A
indedwilcii ii iiUii
., ~ -" ..03= = == = = = = =
Islo d o4
'fa~4ob ~ nonsense, Mabel
you have giveni
m, vapours a eady," and Mr. Dela.
fi left his seat, and walked with inipa
tient steps backward and forward, mutter
ing to himself about the folly and super.
stition of women.
Mrs. Delafield remained silent. She
knew her husband's temper too well to
attempt to disturb him, but her thoughts
were sad and bitter. She thought of her
apparently happy narriage.season five
years before-of how ardently her hus
band seemed to lovo her then how careful
lie was to note her every want, and re
gard her slightest wish. But he was
changed-his manner was cold and re
served-he had closed the banetuary of
his heart against her. When she spoke
of it he listened unwillingly, and gave as
excuses his many cares and anxieties.
She knew that much of this was true, for
the riches that were theirs at their union
had taken "to themselves wings" and
flown awvay ; but she also knew, as only
a woman can know, that she dlesired to be
loved. Then hope whispered gently that
the future wvas not all dark, that when this
burthen of care, of which lie complained
so much, should have been lifted from his
heart, all would again be well.
Delafield was leaning listlessly against
the mantel-piece-his eyes fixed on the
decaying fire-when his wife rose softly
and laid her hand on his arm. "Forgive
me, Harry, if I have been dull and unin
teresting. You know I would do any.
thing to make you happy."
An unusual softness stole over the
features of Mr. Delafield as he returned
his wife's caress, and he said, kindly,
" Brighter days may .como to us yet,
Mabel. Cheer up, and let us hope for
Trhose few kind words were like the
sunlight streaming through a prisoner's
bars, carrying glimpses of freedom and
hope to his yearning soul. Dreams of
future happiness stole over the heart of
Mabel as she retired to rest that night,
and she slept sweetly, even though she
knew that thme coming morrow wvould
part her from the one she loved so fervent
ly. In her dreams she overleaped the
months which wvere to separate thenm, and
in the reunion forgot the past, with all its
doubts and dreamy fears. What a scene
*would this fair and beautiful worl exhibit
if hope wvere fixed-if the melody of her
voice were no longer heard, and the
gleaming of her wings were banished for
The morrow came, and with it the
dreaded parting-the-sad and silent fare
well. With high and ardent hopes Dela
field started for the West-there he ex
pected to regain theo fortune ho had lost
to fulfill his dreams of worldly ambition,
and3( be satisfied.
Somec weeks passed away, and then
came a cold and careless letter to Mrs.
be! Dcintild tellingr of anticinated one
cess, but not one allusion to the past,
nor a hope of future happiness with her.
He spoke not of returning nor of send
ing for her-and yet, even while the
burning tears were streaming down her
cheeks, she hoped on, and dreamed of,
happier days. She "hoped against hope,"
and persuaded her heart into the belief
that care and anxiety were preying on
his mind, and for a little while had swal
lowed up affection-but again it would
appear refined and purified by absence and
Faithful to her own love she wrote
a long and tender letter in return-she
encouraged him to persevere in his busi.
ness, assured him of her own unwavering
affection, and looked joyfully forward
to the time-when they should be reunited,
and forget all past reverses in their crown
ing happiness. Months, long and weari
some months, rolled on, anI no answer
came to her kind and gentle letter. Then
Mabel found the truth of those beautiful i
words, that "hope deferred maketh the I
heart sick," and she thought that any
certainty was better than suspense, and c
yet at that certainty there was no means
of arriving. The reed was broken on t
which she had leaned, and, unfortunately, I
she had never been taught that there
was a higher refuge-a home for the -
weary-a resting-place for the broken r
A year passed heavily on, no tidings a
came to Mrs. Delafield of her husband, I
id she gave him up as dead. Her s
beart told her that the grave alone could d
raise a barrier between her and the hus. h
band she had loved so tenderly' But c
there were those even among her dearest
Friends who thought very differently-who y
while they did everything that kindness g
[eld would never return. Seven years n
passed away and with them the dearest d
md kindest of Mrs. Delafield's friends, r
md now that she began t n
,or support, she
tiful ant d?"She had learned to look i.
orward t ock that can never be bro
ken-to " inheritance that fadeth not t
iway"-but sad and lonely she could not
help but feel as she left the home of her ti
iappy childhood to seek a new one
imong strangers. Her life had been
;pent among those wrho knew her, and C
ooked upon her faults with kindness
hey knew that the errors she committed
vere not promted by the heart-her faults f
.vere only like motes in the sunbeam.
After a comfortable journey, Mabel c
ound herself in the hospitablo city of s
[- , and there first felt how easily ti
vounded is the stranger's heart. But Ma.
)el had a way of stealing quietly into
cople's hearts before they knew it, and a
varm circle of friends was soon formed a
tround her, so that through their influence y
ind by their aid, she opened a school, and d
soon had the pleasure of seeing it well
huled with happy faces. A year passed
ly, and Mrs Delafield wvas comparatively ~
inppy in doing her duty, and thereby
preserving a good conscience'.
One bright and sunny morning one of ~
her favourite pupils brought a visitor, a
ittle girl of seven summers. The child
was more than usually beautiful, and Mrs.
Delafield, attracted by her appearance,e
called her to her side. As shte took the
child's hand, and parted the luxuriant I
curls from the open brow, her eyes invol
untarily wvandered to a locket of gold g
which confined a hair necklace around ~
the child's neck. A paleness like that of
death came over her features, and she
trembled in'every limb; but by a strong
effort of will she suppressed the shriek
of surprise which arose to her lips, and
said as calmly as she could to her favour
ite, " A glass of water, dear Mary, I am
quite faint." The water was brought
quickly, and putting aside the anxious
children who crowded around her, she 1
dlrew thte stranger child towards lher, and i
said kindly, " Allow mec to look at your
T1he child wvas pleased with the atten
tion, and unclasping it, hastily laid it in
"Can it be possible ?" thought Mahel,
as she examined it; "this certainly was
once my own!
" Who gave you this locket my child ?"
asked Mrs. Delafield, soothingly.
" My father-dear, good father," re
plied the child, in delight.
" What is your name ?"-"Mabel Dela
" Mabel Delafield !-why that is my
name !" andl Mabel gasped for breath ; but
she was deternuined to go ont and solve
the mystery if possible."
" Howv old ar-e you, Mabel !"-" Seven
years old in June-and this is June, I de
"1-Have you alwvays lived here ?'
" Yes, I was born hore ?"
" And your name is Mabel Delafield ?"
"Yne is is a proe nnm ?-.why d(10
you ask ?"
" Why, it is strange," and Mabel tried
to speak carelessly, "that you should
have my name."
" You will love me now because I am
your namesake," said the child, as she
put her face close to Mrs. Delafield's, and
looked into her eyes earnestly.
There was something in that look that
went to Mabel's soul, and reminded her
of Delafield as he was wont to look on
ier in moments of tenderness. She press
Dd her lips on the forehead of the inno
-ent child, and strove to speak in a stea
Jy voice. " Can you tell me where your
rather lived before he came in this city ?"
"In New York."
Mabel groaned aloud, but, taking up
lie necklace, she clasped it on the child's
leek, and said, scarcely thinking of \vhat
ine spoke, " And the hair, whose soft,
lossy hair is this? Is it your mother's?"
" Oh, no, it is a lady's who lives away
n New York-she gave it to papa with
"And her name-was what?" demand.
d Mabel, eagerly."
"Mabel Delafield too-that makes
bree Mabel Delafields," and the child
But poor Mabel did not hear the laugh
-she only heard the words that had car
ied conviction of the unwelcome truth to
or trusting heart. She hand fainted, and
long time elapsed, notwithstanding the
ind efforts of friends, before Mabel
howed a sign or life. The school was
ismissed; and the innocent little Mabel
ad no idea of the mischief she had un
onsciously wrought. t
And now, kind reader, let me transport
ou to a fine-looking house in the same
ood city of -. In the parlour sits
anton reading th'
iorning paper. Near.-iin; eleently
ressed, sits a lady, young and beautiful,
garding him with an interest which
othing but love could create.
kkDo lav -''
ist to see how she'd like it, :Lnd toht ner
,e'd follow directly. I hear so much of
iis Mrs. Delafield's school that I think it
'ould be better for us to send Mabel
iere. By the way, I think Delafield is
etting to be quite a common name."
"So it is. Did you ever hear this lady's
hiristian name I"
No, I did not. But why (o you ask ?"
"iMere curiosity-that's all!" and Dela
eld shuddered inwardly.
"You surely don't think it can be your
ousin Mabel, Henry. I do believe I
iall he jealous of her!"
"11 What nonsense, Emily. Do you
link my cousin would be here and I not
nlow it ?"
Such a think might be, but I have half
mind to be jealous of her any how;
ou called her name so often in your
reams last night."
"Did I?" asked Delaield, much con
ised, but then recovering himself, he
dded, " but it was my own little Mabel
was calling Emily; and here she conmes
ow," and Mabel came running in out of
reath, and exclaiming, "Oh!I papa, I
ave found another Mabel Delafield !"
Both father and mother looked sur
risedl, but summoning his courage, Dela
old asked, " Where did you find her, my
"She is thme lady that teaches school
love her so nmuch."
" I told you," said Mrs. Delafield, play.
ully, " that it might be your cousin Ma
eh, and I suspect it is; but what brought
-ou home, Mabel the third 1"
" Mrs. Delafield was so ill-she fainted
-and, papa, she thought this locket and
air so beautifidm-she took it off my neck
umd looked at it for a long time,"
Delamfield was rooted to the spot-thme
nystery was solvedl-he knew that his
lesertedl wife was near him--he alone
~uessed the connexion between the faint
ng fit and the locket. But Delafield had
~one too far in crime to permit this to
rush him without a struggle, and gather
ng up all his effrontery, he professed to
elieve that the lady in question was his
:ousin, who, for seome inexplicable cause,
mad not warned him of her arrival.
We are always ready to be led by our
wn wishes, therefore Emily did not
loubt the truth of Delafield, even though
mhe thought it strange that he should
vince so much feeling on the subject, but
vhatever her fears were they were soon
:almned by the caresses of her husband.
Life had been but as a summer's day to
Emily ; no cloud had darkened it, an'd the
>nie now looming above the horizon might
)ass on with out destroying its brightness.
Thuis thought Delafleld as his wife and
:hild sat beside him in unshaken confi.
"IWell," said Emily, " we must call on
ihis cousin of yours, dear Harry, imme
liately ; and why not nowv?"
" Is Mrs. Delafield papa's cousini
sav. mamma, may I not no too ?"
then, turning to mly, "I must first go
myself. Mabe vcry proud, and she
must have som. ause for acting in this
"IWell! I doift like proud wocmen, and
I shall not like r, I am sure."
"Yes, you w joined in little Mabel,
yon can't hel[ oving her-everybody
"Sometime t y," said Delafield, as
he took up his. t, "I shall call and see
her." With a b'Oling heart and a con
science that goa him, almost to mad.
ness, he left his py and confiding wife,
and walked on,i he cared not whither;
but at last, as if s steps were impelled
by some secret f , he found himself in
front of Mrs. D eld's seminary. He
ascended the ste and rang the bell with
a trembling hand a servant obeyed the
summons, and h 'ed, "Can I see Mrs.
"She is not w -ut walk in, and I
While waiting rj~the servant's return
the moments wer as hours, for he felt
that everything de to him in life depen
ded on this inte .. The servant re
turned and requi his name-his agita
tion was intense a. he presented his card,
but he observed, ".should have thought
of this before."
Mrs. Delafield i d, in some measure,
regained her comp ure, -and though still
pale and agitated, .*e 'was sitting up when
the servant broughlher the card; as her
Dyes fell npori'tho- 'ime she had dearly
oved, she sprangc vulsively to her feet,
ind exclaimed, " rry Delafield!" and
then ashanied of e sing her feelings to
he servant, she sar into her chair, and
Mid, " Ask him to.' Ik up."
"Herc ! to your .wn room, madam "
nquired the servan
Yea-Hre-ho a relation a par
As Ihnerv'antlo ?thi room, she clasp.
"Mj forgiveness you have-i. -
bearauce you do not deserve."
- "You have ceased to love me, Mabel."
"Dare you upbraid in with not loving
vou ?" And her form towered; her eyes
ilated, and she looked on him for the first
ime, but his eyes refuised to meet hers.
' Harry Delafield! love is extinguished in
ny heart foirever; but I can have com
?assion on your innocent child-on the
afortunate woman whom you call your
vire. I would not have her suffer the
nisery-the wretchedness you have made
ne feel-but you, you-what do you not
" Have mercy, Mabel-do not destroy
.heir happiness-do not expose me to
ruin and disgrace."
"I know what you would ask, Dela
ield-you would ask me to bear my
wrongs in silence-to bury them in the
ishcs of my love for the sake of othicrs
-that their happiness be not destroyed
-but how can this be?-for whom does
your wife take me ?
" For my cousin," and his lips quivered
For a minute Mabel was confounded
by his impudence, and contempt sealed
her lips, but recovering, she said, " Let it
be so, then-but remember it is for the
sake of them--not for your sake that I
withhold you from justice-and we must
nver mcet again."
" Howv can I explain that ?"
"In any way you like, I will not con
tradict you. To your wife and child I
will be a friend,-to you as one dead;
and now leave me, I would be alone, and
may God forgive you as I do nowv!"
Overcome by her high wrought feel
ings, she sank back in her chair and
closed her eyes.
"Mabel! farewell !"
She did not speak, and he passed to
the door; as ho opened it, he said: " May
Heaven bless you, Mahel! Will you not
say 'Farewell ?' One word ?" But Mabel
moved niot; and lie went out thinking how
strange it was that she who had once
loved him so fondly should have changed
When, after some time, the ser-ant
entered the apartment, Mabell wvas still
sitting as Delafield had left her, but the
spirit had fled for ever. She had laid her
lire as a sacrifice on another's shrine.
It was said that Mrs. Delafied died of
disease of the heart, and no one thought
of inquiring what produced the disease.
Little did the unconscious Emily think as
she gazed on that face for the first time,
now cold and still in death, of the secret
buried in that bosom forever. She dream
ed not of the sacrifice made for her and
her child. And what wore the feelings of
Delafield as he gazed on the inanimate
form which had so often rested on his
bosom? IHe thought of her never-tiring
kindness-of her patience and gentle for
bearance-and above all, of the sacrifice
she made of her own life. But a secret
joy stole over his heart as ho reflected
that " the dead tell no tales"-that his
danger was past. A few days more, and
Mabel Delafield was laid in tho cold
grave. The secret of her sudden death
was enveloped in darkness euntil all se
crets are brought to light, for "then is
nothing hid that shall not be revealed."
From the Charleston EveningNews.
Not a few in the free soil States sup
pose that Slavery is admitted by us to be,
in the abstract, indefensible. Nothing can
be more erroneous. We admit no snoh
thing. On the contrary, we believe that
Providence has established the institution
for wise purposes; and that we are the
guardians of it. It canuot be doubted
that the condition of the colored man is
far better in a state of slavery, as it exists
with us, than it is either in the free States,
or in Africa. From the horrible barba
risin of the last, or the demoralizing ten.
dencies of the first, this people are alto.
gether exempt with u. The most preju
diced of those who treat of their condi
tion in the emancipated colonies, confess
that they have not advanced in coloniza
tion. Coercion seems absolutely neces
sary to induce the exertion capable of
furnishing daily bread. With no class
abovo them to excite the ambition of the
more worthy, or prompt by fears of the
more degraded; with no condition below
them, through which to draw comparisons
with their own; they are without one great
means of civili7ation. In the state in which
they exist with un, it is difierent. Here
the family relation prevails. Examples
of the rewards of faithfulness constantly
excite the ambition, and stimulate the ex
ertion of each. If they do not become
less slaves in the relation, they do, in
moral condition. The slave constantly
progresses. As his owners' fortunes im
proves, his state is rendered more comfor
table. His protection, is increased; his
You may as well ask the infant, who be
gins to creep, to walk. You may just as
well demand of the leopard to change his
spots. Considering ourselves, therefore,
as the guardians of this relation, it is
our purpose to defend it to the last. It is
not a mere matter of interest : it is one
Tmr. MOST ROMANTmC YF..-A romantic
scene was enacted near Alton, Illinois, a
few days ago, in which Mr. Henry Wheeler,
of Green county, and Miss Minerva Steely, of
Macoupin county, played a conspicuous part.
It appears that the aforesaid couple, having
ascertained that they loved each other almost
to distraction, and there being probably some
objection made to the union by parties inter
ested at home, concluded to elope, and have
the silken knot tied at Alton. Upon arriving
there, however,after a drivc of forty-five miles,
they learned that the marriage ceremony
could not be performed without first procur
ing a license from the County Clerk of Ed
wardsvillec; to obviate which, the party con
sisting of the intended couple, and the Rev.
Wmn. Mitchell, of Alton, jumped into a skil'
and were rowved to a small bar in the river,
directly opposite the city, where shortly after
sunrise, surrounded by wvater, entirely isolated
from the world and the "rest of mankind,"
but in sight of the whole-city, they solemnly
plighted their troth. They returned in a few
minutes to the shore, where they were wel
comed with three cheers by the assembled
OPIxioN oF 'mH OnxN'rTus As 'ro
Win.-When Noah planted the first
vine, and retired, Satan approached, and
"I will nourish you charming plant!1"
He qnickly brought three animals, a
lamb, a lion, and a hog, andl killed thiem
one after an other nmear the vine.
'rho virtue of the blood of these animals
penetrated it, and is still manifested in its
When a man drinks one goblet of wind,
he is then agreeable, gentle and friendly;
that is the nature of the lamb.
When he drinks two, ho is a lion, and
"Who is like me!" he then talks of
When he drinks more, his senses for.
sake him, and at length he wallows in th<
Need it be said that he then resembles
A~OTH!Ea SUCCESsFUL GRai.--On Wed,
nesday afternoon, at Boston, a bold villair
broke a pane of glass in the front window a
the broker's office of Merrill and Sargent
thrust his hands inside, and succeeded in ob
taning $236 in bank bills, and making gooe
his escape. This is the second successfii
robbery of money displayed in broker's win
dI withiun ten ays nat
From the Charleston Mercury.
Wages of 2.ahar.
AfEssus. EDTrons: The following ex.
tract is from a late number of the London
Tines. Of course there can be no dis
pute about the authenticity or correctness
of the statement. I beg you to republish
it with a few comments which I will at
tach to tho article. It is beaded " Wa
ges in Ireland," and is as fboows:
" At the petty sessions, lately held at
Kenturh, Ireland, an Irish farmer, Green
by name, was summoned by one of his
laborers for the sum of one shilling and
sixpence, which, ie might suppose, re
presented a day's work. It appeared,
howaver, that it was claimed for three
week's work, dono at the rate of I penny
per diem during harvest timo-for eigh.
teen days, eighteen pence. There was no
dispute about the fact of the labor having
been performed, the fanner's reluctance
being grounded on the exhorbitant char.
acter of the demand. Mr. Green declar
ed that he should never have thought of
engaging a starveling liko the complain
ant Walsh at that money, when he could
get the best men in the country for as
little. He could bring a witness to prove
that the wages really convenanted for
were one half-penny per week: it was
purely a commercial question; he had
made a bargain, as he averred, in accor
dance with the state of the labor market
in that locality, taking into consideration
the capacities of Walsh; he considered
that a bargain was a bargain, and ought
to be kept; finally, he tendered the three
half-pence as the amount of the legiti.
mate claim. Astounded by such an offier,
the magistrates demanded of Walsh what
hohad obtained in the way of food from
his employer. They received for answer
as follows: " Whilst I was with him I was
obliged to be up in the morning about 4
o'clock, to let the cows out of the sleep
ing-field, and remain herding them until
the other men would dome tWheir work,
is it not a mocxery to callelia'unr
as one half-penny per week for labor in
harvest, wages. It is the wages of death,
and the curse of a country where one
class own the whole of the soil without
being under any obligation by law, or
self-interest, to feed and clothe those who
perform the labor of tilling and making it
k-Ing froth fruit and human food in abun
dance-food, too, which, like Tantalus,
they are daily doomed to see without
daring to taste. No doubt the plaintiffin
this case is doomed in future to forego
the luxury of a little corn meal gruel and
the wages of a half-penny a week, for he
is now a marked man-lie is one who has
dared to rebel against the exterminating
institution of free labor in Ireland, and he
will be cut aff from the scanty pittance
that has hitherto sustained life, and he will
soon be numbered among the thousands
of poor "starvelings," as the defendant
unfeelingly calls him, who have already
suffered the cruel punishment of death for
the crime of poverty.
Will it be said there is no similar state
of things in America, and therefore no
neced of harrowving up the feelings of those
who have a heart to sympathise with af
fliction, by the recital of such tales of
misery. T1rue. But how long would it
take to produce just such results, if the
three millions of human beings, who are
now fed and clothed better than any other
three million of laborers in any country
on earth, were turned loose like the poor
Irish, without a foot of land to cultivate,
or a roof to shelter them, and without any
provision whatever for food and raiment?
I am often asked at the North, where I
was born, and have alw~ays resided, ex
cept in my sojournings, in the South,
where I have no interest whatever in a
pecuniary point of view, howv I can advo
cate the institution of slavery, as it is well
known I have done by my wvritings and
public addresses for somec ten years part.
Do I need to give any other answer than
the above extract from the London Times 1
I advocate it because I desire that I may
never live to see the wages of labor ini
America-reduced to that point of infernal
wickedness wvhich now prevails among a
people who are constantly denouneing
those who own slaves, as "inhuman mand
Fsters," while there own flesh and blood'i
perishing for wvant, or sustainitng life upor
the very garbage of the earth, that th<
" poor slave" would spurn from him wvit
as much disdain as a full fed London Al.
derman, after creating an appetite at ar
Abolition lecture and satisfying it upor
roast beef or turtle soup.
cI f~advot i, ecause after years oj
carfulobsrvaionthroughout the eutirn
South, I have never seen as much hjumar
misery among the hundreds of thousand'
-of slaves that I have seeu' in all condition!
Iof their life, as I have seen among th
Inegro population in the course of thirty
-minutes walk from the very centre ol
wenah mi luxur- in the City of N. York
I advocate it, because I hope I'
inthropist, and willit *A
system, I care not hy .D
be designated, that prdue^
amount of human happiesst't t
humber of the human fam
I remain, most r
Charleston, Dec. 21, 850.
ThE BRITISU MI3T does aw immense b-ui
ness. The amount of gold cehied
reaehed $400,0000l; the silver *a.s
only $11,300,000, and the copper Amii.wie;
a little ever $3,000,000.
THE Ri.nT o' a State to secede from" AS
Union has been asserted by almost all tih
original parties to the compact; firstby Vir
ginia and Kentucky; then by Massaehub6tts,\ -v
Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Fh*Lib .
and Vermont, and lastly by South
Georgia and other Southern States. . 7
ir GERMANs N CINsDEATL-s an evi
dence of the German population'otfncinnati,
It is stated that forty thousands letters are
received annually at the Post Office in that
city, from Germany, and the amount of post
age collected on them is $14,003.
THE LArEsT CunosxrIms.-A smal
quantity of tar, supposed to have been
left where the Israelites pitched their
A fcte made of the railing of a scold.
A plte of butter mado from the cream
Thesmall coin in the "change of'the
The original brush used in paintitigde
"signs of the times."
The very latest contracts with. the
The chair in which the sun
A garment for the nd
The hammer whicl
fgggh!ould g h or
~go give him hnrble: titis~e .
turedly refused to )
threatened to " gazette" him as a co
"Well go ahead-I would rather fill
twenty newspapers than one coffin," was
the hearty response of the old gentleman.
"FATITER did you ever have another
wife beside mother ?"
"No, my boy; what possessed you to
ask me such a questionI"
"Because I saw in the old family
Bible where yon married Anna Dominy
in 1835, and that isn't mother, for her
name was Sally Smith."
GoING IT.-A chap went into a confec
tioner's shop the other day with his five
daughters, and called for one ice cream
and six spoons. After the cream was duly
devoured, the old fellow asked his daugh.
ters-" well girls, ain't you glad you
DARK~ DEVLoMEN~s.-" See -
Gumbo, why am you like a blackguewrd !
" Neber guess dat in de world,, iz I 9
ain't you brack fool."
"You is, honey, coz you watches massa
Jim's store and you's not, a berry whito
"Now, Pete, dat ambery surprisius'
and conblustificating to calen at ,*t
niggar, why is you like a geni& +
Dah!l dat stump him."
" Bress my soul, Gumbo, I nc~~.~
ob dat-gibs her up.". -
"Yah, yah ?-so does I, sensible as!I
i-been tinkin of it tree days, and fudder
off' now dan I was at de start."
A WAG entered a store in London yecar.
ago, which has for its sign, "The T'1ivh
Baboons," and addressing himself to th~
" I wish to see your partner!l"
"I have no partner, sir."
"I beg your pardon, sir, and hope you
will excuse the mistake."
"Oh, there's no harm done; but what
made you think that there were two
"Your sign-The Two Baboons."
AN IIsMAx who had just arrived
from the Emerald Isle, hearing a gun
fired at the closing of the day, asked what
the noise meant. Being told that it was
the 'sundown gun,' he exclaimed, " Does
the sun make such a divil of a noise going
down in this country 1"
"PAPA, have guns got legs t".
"Why, no James,"
"Irow do they kick, then t"
" They kick with their breeches, my
-AN IRISH paper has the following:i
"Yesterday' Mr. Kelly, returning to tomb,
fell down find broke his neck, but bhappi
ly received no further damage.''
Wheu sonrow is -asleep, wake it bot.