Newspaper Page Text
' , CORNER MARKET AND 4TE , " .
Z. 11AUAX, Editor and Proprietor.
From Peterson's Miigazine.
SISTER MARY'S COURTSHIP.
BV FAN ME MORETON.
.iit -. . t
1,: "Pray tell me what you are reckoning
up in that busy braiinof yours, Louise ?
Be careful iliat you don't go to counting
your chickens before they are hatched,
like that unforiunate milk-maid grandma
used to tell us of. Let that be a salutary
lesson to you, sister mine, never to in
dulge in day dreams or build foundaiion
less ensiles in the air.'
'Thank you, Mrs. Mary, for your sage
advice. Perhaps some day or other I
may profit thereby. Dot my thoughts
just now had very lilile to do with cither
' milk-maids or chickens. I was wander
ing mentally in a higher sphere calcu
lating how many years my charming sis
ter had been a wife.'
..'Ah ! Lucy dear, tint reminds me, did
I, never tell you the history of my court
ship X For I now recollect you were
travelling with papa in Europe at that
time :. and though live years have passed
"since I became a faithful helpmate to my
leige and lord, yet you have never di ign
ed to visit us in our western home until
the present summer.'
You know very well why I have not,
Mary. While inclination has often bid
den me, duty has peremptorily called
'Never mind bringing up an endless ti
rade of excuses now, but just please
touch the bell, and tell Kate to take Mag
gie and Edward a walk to their grandma's,
and I will commence.'
Very little did that darling sister of
"mine look like a wife and mother, with
her soft brown hair parted on her fair brow
and her eyes as htijhl and blue as ever
and as she stood before the dressing-glass.
he laucrhed srailv and exclaimed, as if
ue idu0ucu j.uij ,
speaking aloud the thooghlsMiat were at
lhat moment passing through my nniul.
'I don't look so very old, do I Lou.
though I have been married five years
1'in sure my cheeks are as rosy as ever.
Oh, Lou, how I have wanted tolookale;
sometimes, because then, you know, one j
looks far more intellectual. Instead ol
that, I always had such a bright color like
any farmer's daughter. .But one thing is
true, the 'cares of the household, as auih i
Ophelia nays, don't trouble me much, for
Nannie does everything so well '
'But, Mary, I can see no very intimate
connection between her doings and your
courtship, so if you ever intend to begin,
'So I will, love, only have a Utile pa
tience,', said she, gaily, stooping down
and kissing me. 'But I assure you you
will find it very dull and uninteresting,
no hair-breadth escapes,' 110 'spirited
horse, just ready to throw itself and rider
(myself of course) over some steep pre
cipice, when just at that exact moment
some hero of the wood welcome gallant
ly forward and become my preserver and
future lover.' No handsome, manly
cousin to fall in love with' and become his
daiiy companion in walks and rides.
Nothing of all this. I forewarn you,
bulif.you still persist in hearing my home
etory, you shall have it.'
Merely bowing my head in assent, for
I WMbecoming impatient, my sister seat,
ed herself on a low footstool at my' feet
and began. : ,
Ypu remember Mrs. Milton, who used
to vWit,u8 .iri the city, and mako me so
many ' handsome presents f Well, she
owned a charming place near the sea
shore. Oh, Lucy, if you have never
been there I cannot describe it to you.
The house itself is old-fashioned, and
the furniture,' though antique, is rich and
cosily. 1 ehall never forget the many
nleasant evetiings I have spent in that
vine-clad porch, with the whole expanse
of blue, clear water lying ulmost at my
feet. When laying aside my book, I
would sit fairly entranced in the calm
irrev hour of twilight when silence reign
ed around and the moon shed her soft
light over the rich and varied scene. Tru
' ly has it been said that man made the
city. But God made the country.
Mrs. Milton was a kind-hearted w.o-
H ftl'celilii minuil, jpcbottu- to Inicricait Inlcrats, literature, gticriee, antj
man, though one fond of having her own jshe concealed, her feelings, under the 1n4.sk
way. I was ever a great favorite of hers I of politeness.
so was a certain young physician in a The doctor's friend, I had forgotten to
neighboring village. How often has Mis. mention, was a young man of a bright
Milton spoken in boundless praises of i florid complexion, not good-looking cer
him to me: telling how half the village tainly, but polite and gentlemanly in' his
girls were striving to win his noble heart,
hut striving in vain.
Mamma and I had returned in the earlv
part of September from the Springs, tired I
with gayety and excitement. 1 fairly ces every now and then, rose and request
cried for joy when Mrs. Milton canie tojed Mr. Neland to accompany her to the
New York, nominally with ihe intention ! hot-house to look at some choice exotic
of having mamma and myself return with ! sho haiMately received, and which she
her to her rural home. Mamma, howev-! wished him to analyze. They left the
er, preferred remaining in tho city, tho' room, leaving me to play the hostess to
she finally consented to my returning with ! Dr. Louiston, not a very agreeable task ! ry, my life is all a blank now ; and some
Mrs. Milton, the terms that I should keep just then, I assure yon. But I had pre-1 times when you are surrounded by the
my mirth within bounds, for you know j viotisly resolved what line of conduct to bright and gay, will you pause and be
what a wild madcap I was in those days, puisne, and proceeded to carry it into stow one thought on him who must here
Lou. ! effect. I after lead a dreary existence ? 0!i ! Ma-
I will pass over our. plrant journey, I lWui allJ walki1r ,0 ,he ()pcn ry, Mary, tiat wo had never me,.'
and in v delight in cxchanrin!r the hot and 1 .1 t .:,i "... .., : ! ni, hn,v f,iw m.pnhn.
v 1 1 .4. nrii'k w: s. :i ui
dnst-laden air, fofeool, refreshing breezes I
waving green grass. I had been at
iuihoi. 8 Huui a luruiigiii, wneu unc
t 1. . . 1 t. . . r I. .
morning she hastily entered my room,
sayii g, 'Come, .Mary, brush your hair
and fix up, for Dr. Louiston and Mr. Ne
land are coining down ihe avenue, and I
would not wish ihem-to see you in this
plight.' 'Nor I either, Aunty,' I replied,
for I had been out in the woods all the
morning, and my gingham dress was sad
ly torn, and my white apron all stained
with blackberries. 'Well, dear,' she con
tinued, 'come down in the parlor as soon
as you'ro ready, for I must go and show
them in; Nancy is so dumb, she will be
more likely to take them in the lea-room,
if she should condescend to invite them
to enter at all,'' and so saying, she left
What Mrs. Milton meant by fixing up
I do not know ; but I am afraid my toilet
that afternoon did not exactly suit; for
a3 it was very warm I sjmply arranged
my hair, and put on a white muslin dress (
without a single ornament, save that lilile
diamond ring papa had given the New
From various hints from my friends at
Wesiland and others interentcd, I had j
learned lhat if I had heard much of Dr.
Louiston, he had heard milch more eon
ceming me, In fact the whole country
round was aware lhat the doctor had been
selected by Mrs. Milton as my future
husband. But from several stories I had
heard, ! knew very well that he was not
easily caught ; and I determined to meet
him on his own ground. Much had been
said by ihe village belles and young wives
of the country round in his disfavor in
my presence. But I heeded them not,
for I well understood their motives, and
though, mister dear, I cared very little to
see Dr. Louiston, I did die to mako them
envious as far as it was in my power.
I'm afraid, Lucy dear, that if their mo
tive was wrong in speaking my dispar
agement in Dr. Lnuiston's presence, my
own motive in cultivating his acquaintance
was not exactly right.
When I had completed dressing I took
a bunch of wild flowers, which I had
been gathering that morning, with ihe in
tention of arranging them. I descended
ihe stairs. As I entered tha room, I saw
Mrs. Milton standing by an open window
conversing with the two gentlemen, and
pointing to some favorite plant in ihe gar
den below. I therefore stood for a mo
ment near the door unobserved. Hap
pening to look that way, one of the gen
tlemen caught my look, and I thought I
could just perceive a rather amused ex
pression pass over his countenance. In
a moment I knew lhat it was Dr. Louis
ton, and I returned his glance with one of
hauteur and disdain. lie was of the me
dium height and strikingly handsome.
His features were fine, and his eyes black
' 1 sat down on the sofa and commenced
arranging my flowers, and when iniro
duced bagged the gentlemen to excuse
me from rising, as I was particularly en
gaged: Mrs. Milton seemed surprised.
'My dear,' she said, 'this is Dr. Louiston,
whom you have doubtless heard me fre
quenliy speak of.' 'Indeed,' I answered,
without once. looking up. I could plainly
see that Mrs. Milton was displeased with
my conduct during tho intcrviow, but
manners. He came and sat down by me,
and we spon entered into a spirited con
versation. Presently Mrs. Milton, who
had been regarding us with nervous glaiv
uimvi x nun uiv iii'iuii ui hp i.oniuuia ;
'O s ircus. 01 s a is am eaves, am 11 :i.
r i n n
ch()i(.e (f ., , fl
' t , . . . n..
Louiston and said. 'Yon have doubtless
heaul my name coupled with many idle
; reports, and your partial motive,' I added,
smiling, 'in coming here to-day was one
of curiosity, and I must ay, my dear sir,
that I cannot much blame you after your
experience. Now, Dr. Louiston,' I con
linued, 'if you choose to come and visit
us occasionally from motives of friend
ship, don't imagine, my dear sir, that you
will be treading on tlippery ground, or
that snares are spread round about to en
trap you. For as to myself, though 1
have not yet informed Mrs. Milton, or in
deed any one but dear mamma, I am to
be married to a dear cousin (who is now
travelling in Europe for his health) at the
end of six months. ' ,
I calmly endured that fixed gaze of in
quiry, without shrinking, for every word
I had uttered was truth.
Di. Louiston rose, and eominir to where
I was standing, said, while a beautiful
smile played upon his countenance, 'At
least then, Mis .Mary, let us be friends.'
'Certainly,' I replied, laughingly, at the
same time extending my hand, 'I have
not the slightest objection.'
Jti'-t at that unlucky moment, while
my hand was still in Dr. Louiston's, Mrs.
Milton entered the room, while a gratified
expression swept over her features ; and
when the gentlemen had departed, and
she openly congratulated me on my sup
posed conquest, it almost broke my heart
to think of the kind friend I was deceiv
ing. For I believe, Lucy, my interests
were as near her heart as her own.
Well, Dr. Louiston and I,' I see I must
be brief, sister, as ihe dressing bell has
rung, 'continued from thai time as friends,
riding on horseback, rowing, and walk
ing together ; and the time allotted for my
visit was fast drawing to a close.
But, Lucy, whenever I thought of re
turning home, there would come such a
sensation around my heart, that I could
almost' wish, sometimes, lhat it would
cease to beat altogether. I know ii was
very wicked, bui I could not help it.
One evening, I remember it as well as
if it were but yesterday, we had been
walking together, Dr. Louiston and I
were seated beneath a lofty oak. We
were both of us silent. I was thinking
with deep regret of returning to ihe city
the next morning, for mamma had vvrilten
lhat I must not delay my return another
day, as papa and you were expected by
the next steamer. As the dew was fast
falling, we rose and relurncd home. As
we nearly reached the door, Dr. Louiston
turned to ine and said, 'Forgive me, Mary,
for the woids I am about to speak. When
I received your permission to visit you,
it was with the mutual agreement that it
was to be only as a friend. But oh, Ma
ry,' he continued, earnestly, 'I have found
too late, as others have found before me,
that love has grown out of friendship;
and Mary, forgive me dear, but I must
say it, I have sometimes dared, yes 1 dar
ed to hope that, though your hand was
promised to another, your heart was mine
Oh! that that wild hope might indeed
Drove a reality, and I would not ask for
My head was lying on his slioulder,
my hand lay passively in his. I had not
the power to speaMrfiwTf
I should attempt it,T would only burst
When 'we reached the piazza all was
still. Nothing was to be heard but the
dashing of the waves against the shore.
I sat down on a seat on the porch, and
gazed with filling eyes into tho blue sea.
Oh ! how I wished I was buried beneath
those rocking waves, never more to gee
the light of day. But better thoughts !
soon came, and when Dr. Louiston bade
mo farewfll, and imprinted a kiss on my
brow, I felt calm. 'Good night, Mary,'
ho said, 'I respect you for the silence
you have chosen to keep. But oh ! Ma-
ed back in my own heart. But I strove
to be calm, and bidding Dr. Louiston
farewell, rushed into the house.
And now, Lucy, I need not go on, you
know the rest. How when but a few
days aficr papa had returned, lie called
me one morning to the library, drawing
me toward him and kissing my brow,
and told me he had sad. news for me;
and bade me never again think of my
cousin William, for six weeks ago (so he
had written mc, and papa had in mistaken
kindness withheld the ieltcr until his re
turn) he had married an English girl,
speaking of our engagement only as a
My eyes were filled with tears of joy
now, and I kissed papa over and over
again, who looked at me wonderingly
over his spectacles, lor he had expected
to find me plunged in grief.
And now Louise, you remember my
merry wedding, and our removal to St.
Louis, and lhat life ever since has been
t3 me but one bright dream of happiness.'
Why not be polite ? how much does it
cost to say 'I thank you V Why not
practice it at home ? to your husband ?
to your domestics ? If a stranger does
you some little act of courtesy, how sweet
the smiling acknowledgement ! If your
husband, ah ! it is a matter of course no
need of thanks.
Should an acquaintance tread on your
dress, your best, very best, how profuse
are you with your 'never minds, don'l
think of it, I don't care at all ;' if a hus
band does it, he gels a frown; if a child,
it is chastised.
'Ah ! these are little things,' say you.
They tell mightily upon the heart, let me
assure you, little as ihey are.
A gentleman stops at a friends house,
and finds it in confusion. He don't see
anything to apologize for never think of
such matters. Everything is all right
cold supper, cold room, crying children
perfectly comfortable. Goes home, where
the wife has been taking care of the sick
ones and working her life almost out.
Don't see why thing can't bo kept in
order there never were such cross chil
dren before.. No apologies accepted at
Why not bo polite at home ? Why not
use freely that golden coin of courtesy ?
How sweetly they sound, those little
words, 'I thank you,' or 'you are very
kind.' Doubly, yes, ihrice sweet from
the lips we love, when her smiles make
the eye sparkle with the light of affection
Be polite to your children. Do you
expect them 10 be mindful of your wel
fare ! to grow glad at your approach ? to
bound away to do your pleasuro before
the request is half spoken ? Then with
all your dignity and. authority mingle po
liteness; give it a niche in your house
hold temple. Only then will you have
"leai ued the true secret of sending out in
to ihe world really finished ladies and
What we say, we say unto all be po
In Turkey, whenever a storekeeper is
convicted of telling a lie, his house is
painted black, to remain so fof one month.
If there -were such a law in, this country,
what a sombre and gloomy appearance
some of our cities would present.
OCTOBER 24. 1855. '
FEMALE CHARACTER. :
Character to a woman is like cash to a
man without it one is poorly off indeed.
The person who will deliberately injure a
woman's reputation by word or deed, is
guilty of an act that should crimson tho
cheek with shame, and burn the consence'
as with fire. Tho trouble of it is too of
ten attended with no such result.' We
find l following afio.it on
newspaperdum, which is good enough
to have the widest possible circulation.
"Never make use of an honest woman's
!l:imi :lt !tn I m iimm.i. limn np m o .tti-vml
... u ui i..if.wir 1 l!l. V. I.I U llll.tl.Vt j
company. Never make assertions about j
her that you think are untrue, or alius- '
ions that you feel she herself would blush
to hear. When yon meet with men who
do not scruple to make use of a woman's
nsme in a reckless and unprincipled man
ner, shun them, for they are the very
worst members of the community, men
lost to every sense of honor every feel
ing of humanity. Many a good and
worthy woman's character has been for
ever ruined, and her heart broken by a
lie, manufactured by somc'villain, and re
peated when it should not have been, and
in the presence of those whoso little judge
ment could not deter them from circula
ting the foul and blighting reporl. A slan
der is soon propagated, and the smallest
thing derogatory to a woman's character,
will fly on the wings of the wind, and
magnify a3 it circulates, until its monstrous
weight crushes the poor unconscious vic
tim. Respect the name of woman, for
your mother, your sister, are women ;
snJasyou would have their fair names
untarnished and their lives unembittcred
by the slanderer's biting tongue, heed the
ill lhat your own words may bring upon
the mother, the sister, or wife of some
A Newport Story. Near Newport,
is situated the Island of Connecticut ; ihe
inhabitants of which arc in the habit of
taking their produce to the market of the
former place, taking back in return, such
commodities as their necessities demand.
Some years since, there lived an honest
family on the island, who had a son,
whose long shabby, uncombed hair, gave
him an uncommonly poor'h appearance,
even in thai then primitive place. The
father was in ihe habit of visiting New
port, according to the custom of his neigh
bors. On one occasion, he took home
with him, packed at the top of the chest
in which he transported his goods a small
mirror, the first ever possessed by the
family. The chest was brought home,
and placed in the centre of ihe room, as
usual, for the purpose of being discharg
ed of its contents, when this uncouth son-
ran, us usual, and raised the lid, to see
what father had brought from town. On
this occasion, he gave but one brief look,
dropped the lid, and with terror depicted
in every feature, cried out : "Oh, moth
er ! mother ! father has brought home a
cub ! he has brought homo a cub I seed
him a young bear ? '.'
I.ioht Supper. One of the great se
crets of health is light supper ; and yet it
is a great self denial, when one is hungry
and tired at the close of the day, to eat
little or nothing. Let such an one take
leisurely a cup of tea, a piece of cold
bread with butler, and he will leave the
table as fully pleased with himself and all
the world as if he had eaten a heavysup
per. Take any two men under similar
circumstances, strong, hard-working men,
of iwenly five years; let one take his
bread and butler, wiih a cup of lea, and
the ordinary et ceieras, as the last meal of
the day, and let the other eat heartily of
whatever may tempt his appetite, and we
will venture to affirm lhat tho tea drink
er will outlive ihe other by thirty years.
Children. I remember a great man
coming to my house at Waltham, and
seeing all my children standing in the or
der of their ago and stature, he said:
'These are they that make rich men poor ;'
but he straight received this answer, 'Nay
my lord ; these are they lhat make a poor
man rich for there is not one of these
whom we should part with for all your
wealth Bishop' Haifa Life.
' , , ' : Erom the Christian Chronicle.
' '' SCATTERED TEfOITGHTS " "
To-morrow will be my birth-day, and
I have stolen awhile away from cum
bering cares, that I might spend a short
season of the closing year in casting a ret.
respective glance at the past how check
ered it has been, how strewn with provi
dence and crov ned with blessings.
But a few years ago, a ha; py little
school girl, surrounded by those who lov
ed to fondle and caress, with prospects fas
cinating enough to enamour a little travel
er, and guide the liny ieet to paths ol
pleasure ; but ere I had entered the en
chanted giound to pluck its fragrant bios.
soms, heard the silent whisper Child,
beware ! I heeded not till thorns grew
up around mc, and thought the solemn les
son, lhat earth's enjoyments cannot last.
While pausing to reflect, the rude blastof
the destroying angel swept over, and bore
away the flattering spirit of my idol broth
er to a fairer climate, where cotd and heat
are never known. Again and again, I
have watched beside the dying bed of ma
ny very dear to me. I still seem .to feel
ihe farewell grasp, and hear the feeble ac
cents us they frame a parting admonition,
"to be good."
0, relentless death, why dost thou choose
earth's richest jewels for thy prey 1 Thou
hast broken our circle, left our hearlh
stono desolate, loosed the silver cord, bro
ken the wheel at the cistern, and gather
ed 'mid thy gleanings the ripening shock
we fain would have treasured for our
selves ; but the dust has returned to the
earth, as it was, and the spirit unto God
who gave it.
We are left orphans my mother, as a
broken reed, shaken by the wind. But
tho fatherless and widow have a Father in
heaven, whose supporting hand has sus.
lained, whose rod and staff have upheld
us,, while the lender Shepherd gently
folds us as lambs to his bosom, healed our
bleading hearts with the balm of Gilead,
at.d udminislered a cordial for each fear.
I have since felt a nearness to this Sa
vior which I never felt before, though the
billows had nigh gone over ine, yet His
smile calmed the angry waves and chas
ed away the gloom of night. "He hath
done all things well j" these bereavements
were only to elevate my affections, and
refine and purify my heart, by purging
away its dross, that the image of Christ
might bo reflected there
Months and years have passed, yet Ilis
loving kindness has never failed. I re
joice to-day that lie has taken my feet
out of the horrible pit and the miry clay,
and fixed them upon the rock Christ Je
sus. 0, reader, here is a foundation
which ages cannot destroy, and upon
which I would urge you to build all your
hopes ; for, unlike the quicksands on
which you have reared the castles of your
every-day dreams, you will find life real
and immortal. Glen.
JC7"A French paper mentions that a
peasant received lately by mail, a letter
from his son Joseph, a Zonave before Se
baslopol. The young man mentioned
the fact ihal his legs were yet whole, but
that his shoes were the worse of the wear.
The affectionate father having purchased
a pair of nine and a-halfs, was perplexed
as to the means of forwarding them. At
last he thought of the telegraph the line
to Marseilles ran through his village.
He put the address on ono of the soles,
and flung the shoes over the wire. A
pedlar passing by, struck by the solidity
of their workmanship, appropriated them
and placed his uteJ up stampers in their
place. The next morning the old daddy
returned to the spot to see if the telegraph
had executed his commission. He saw
the substitution which had been effected.
"I vow," he exclaimed, 'If Joseph hasn't
sent back bis old ones t"
Intoxication. An old law in Spain
decreed that if a gontleman was convicted
of even a capital offence, he should be
pardoned on his pleading his having been
intoxicated at the time he committed it,
it being supposed lhat any one who bore
the character ol gentility, would more
readily suffer death than confess himself
capable of such a vice.
P E 11 ANN U M ;
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE,
VOLUME I. NUMBER 42.
VICTORIA AND THE-SABBATH.
The following interesting anecdote of
Queen Victoria was originally published
in the Court Journal. It is probably
true; and if so, is highly honorable to her:
A noble lord, not particularly remarka
ble for his obseivance of the holy old
nances, arrived at Windsor late on Satur
'I have brought down for your Majesty's
inspection," he said, 'some paper? of im
portance, but as they muM be gone into
at length, I will not trouble your Majesty
with them to night but request your at- .
tention to-morrow morning.'
To-morrow morning!' repeated tha
Queen, 'to morrow is Sunday, my Lord!'
'But busiuess of state, please your Maj
esty!' '.Must be attended to, I know,' replied
ihe Queen; 'and as, of course, you could
not come down earlier to night, I will, if
those papers are of such vital importance,
attend to them after we come from church
to morrow morning.'
To. church went ihe toyal party, to
church went the noble lord and much to
his su rpri.se the sermon was on th dut
ies of the Subbalh !' .
: 'How did your lordship like the ser
mon!' inquired the Queen.
'Very much, your Majesty,' replied tho
nobleman, with the best grace he could.
'I will not conceal from you,' said tho
Queen, 'that last night I sent the clergy
man the text from which he preached. I
hope we shall all be the better for it.'.
The day passed without a single word
on the subject of the paper of impor
tancewhich mu3t be gone into at length.'
His lordship was as he always is
graceful and entertaining, and at night,
when her Majesty was about to withdraw,
'To morrow morning, my Lord,' she said,
'at any hour you please as early as
seven if you like we shall go into those
Mis lordship could not think of intru
ding at so early an hour on her Majesty
'nine would be quite time enough.
'As they are of importance,' said tha
Queen, 'as they are of importance, my
Lord, I would have attended to them ear
lier, but at nine be it.'
And at nine her Majesty was seated.
ready to receive the nobleman, who had
been taught a lesson on the duties of tho
i Sabbath, il is hoped he will not quickly
Rfeht or Left.
We were told a few days since the fol
lowing piece of "skinning" as it was cal
led, and which is rather too good to be
lost, showing at the same time the des
perate straits a certain class of gentlemen
are put to in making a raise. A well
known case, who was hard up for money,
meeting a brother chip in the street, told
him if he would walk across the street,
go into the lront door ot the hotel oppo
site, and in walking in be very lame in
his right leg, but come out in a few mo
ments and be lame in the left leg, he wol'd
make it all right with him some time.
Without asking why or wherefore, the
fellow did as was requested, and the skin
ner going up to a gentleman, remarked to
him how lame that man was in the left
leg, who was just going into the hotel.-
The gentleman said he was not lame m
his left leg, which the other insisted wan
so. But to settle the matter, the skinner
immediately proposed a bet of ten dol
lars that the man was lame in the left leg,
which the gentleman accordingly took.
The money was posted, and in a few mo
ments the man came out so desperately
lame in the left leg that he could scarcely
get down the steps of the hotel, and of
coursa the money was lost by the gentle
man, who could scarcely believe' his own
eyes, for although the man came but lame
in his lei t, he was perfectly certain ha
went in lame in tho right leg, but at the '
same time he never imagined there was
any collision between the parties. We
have heard of many ways to make a raise,
but this goes a little ahead of all.-ia-
I ny Knickerbocker.
. The only way for a man to escape being
found out is to pass for what he is, The
only way to maintain a good character is
to deserve if' It is easier to'correct our
faults than to conceal them.