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H. C. SHEARER, Publisher,
i COENEB VABXET AND FOUBTH.
$2 P E R1N N U M
INVARIABLY IB ADVAUC3S, , '
Z. IIAUAN, Editor and Proprietor.
From Godcy's Lady's Book.
THE ITALIAN SISTERS.
. . BY HELEN HAMILTON.
. In a small room in one of the poorer
class of lodging-houses of Rome, sat a
young and beautiful girl. The glowing
lovelinoss of Italy was hers the warm yet
brilliant complexion, the dark expressive
eyes, the wealth of raven hair all were
combined to render her an exquisite speci
men of Roman beauty. She was clad in a
rich bridal costume, and her dress of snowy
satin and costly lace, ornamented with
flowers and pearls, ' contrasted strangely
with the aspect of tho room she occupied
It was small, poorly .furnished, and its only
ornaments were a few colored drawings of
Italian scenery hanging hero and there up
on the walls, and a large crucifix of ebony
and alabaster which stood on a small table
draped with colored stuff. An old guitar,
with a portfolio of music, lay at the feet of
the fair girl, as if she had been trying to
while away the time by playing upon the
She was evidently waiting for 6ome one
From time to time, as the roll of a coming
carriage caught her ear, she sprang up and
hastened to the window, but, always disap
pointed, turned away with a look of weari
ness to resume her seat. At lust, after an
hour's weary watch, a carriage stopped at
the door, footsteps were'heard ascending
the -stairs, the door was pushed open, and a
young man entered tho room followed by a
priest. Uttering an exclamation of joy;
the fair girl flow to meet the first, who greet
ed her with a smile and the words, "Well,
dear JCina, have 1 made you wait longl"
pronounced in Italian with a slight English
. ''Oh, very long, Enrico ! I was so tired,
but how you are come, I am'satisfied," she
replied, smiling. , .
'Does your dress please you 1" he asked,
attentively surveying her. "I feared it
was not handsoms enough."
. "It is beautiful," she answered, "only
too beautiful for me."
Nothing can be too beautiful for the fu
ture Lady Lyndon," he whispered, while a
rosy blush overspread the fair features o
his companion. "Hut where is Teresa ?"
he added, glancing around j "is she gono 1"
'Yes, and all is secure," was the reply.
"Then , come, I am impatient to call you
my wife." She placed her hand in his, and
he led her to tho pf iest.
And now while the ceremony is proceed
ing, let us cast a look at the bridegroom.
, He was tall and finely formed, with deli-
cateiy cut features, largo deep blue eyes,
and a profusion of dark brown hair which
' wreathed itself in close curls around his
head. He- waB handsomely pressed, and
bore in his manners tho trace of his rank,
(Lord Lyndon was heir presumptive to an
earldom,) yet an expression rested upon his
handsome mouth which, though difficult to
describe, caused an involuntary feeling of
' dislike in those who beheld him for the first
. time. . :.
" The ceremony was nearly ended.whenthe
' door was suddenly thrown open, and a young
girj rushed in, her features, though wan and
wasted with recent illness, glowing with
excitement, and her whole frame trembling
with emotion. "The Holy Virgin be prais
ed !" she exclaimed ; "l am not too late to
save you, Nina!"
"To save me !" exclaimed Nina, a flush
crimsoning her cheek j "from, what 1 lam
"Ilis wife? Oh! foolish girl, did you
believe him 1" asked the other. "This is
an infernal snare, Nina. Look at that
. man," she continued, pointing to the priest
.who, pale and trembling, leaned against
the wall. "He is one of the lord's servants
dressed up to trick you to your destruction
t That is the reason why he insisted on a se
cret marriage j bat his valet, more honeBl
than his master, revealed to me the whole
' plot scarce an hour ago, and I hastened to
save you.", '
j".' f'Nina, 'tis false exclaimed Lord Lyn
,. "1 am his wife, Teresa j yor have been
deceived," said Nina, and throwing back
1 her veil, she gazed with?a look of confiding
fondness into her lover's eyes. :.
"Read, deluded girl," replied Teresa,
' placing an open letter in her hand. She
" glanced over a few lines, an ashy paleness
' overspread her features, and with ft moan of
: unutterable anguish, she sank fainting into
the arms of her sister. "My Lord, your
''evil purpose is foiled," said Teresa, calm
ly. "Will it please you,1 loave mol" and
t Icflib fount
she pointed with a jesture of command to
the door. Uttering an exclamation of rage
and scorn, he rushed from the room, follow
ed by the pretended priest, and the sisters
were left alone.
Five years have passed away since the
events described in the first part of this
talc, and our scene is no longer laid in the
little room at Rome, but in the elegant
boudoir of a titled lndy in London.
The room was richly yet tastefully fur
nished. The delicate tints of the carpet
and the satin-covered furniture harmonized
well with the silvery hue of the paper that
covered the walls. A few beautiful paint
ings, one an exquisite Madonna, the rest
glowing Italian-landscapes, were hung with
an artist's care in the best lights, and in a
recess stood one perfct statue, a graceful
Hebe, from the magical chisel of Canova
Above the mantle-piece of Sienna marble,
hung one other painting j it was concealed
by a curtain of black velvet, on which the
words '-La MiaSorella" were embroidered
in silver thread.
Seated at a marble table, which was
drawn near tho centre of the room, was a
young and beautiful woman. Her large,
black, brilliant eyes, and heavy braids of
silken hair of that rich bluish black never
seen except on a native of Italy, contrast
ed the dazzling whiteness of her broad and
noble brow, and the soft yet rich tint of
her check. Her dress of violet satin was
cut so as to display the perfect contour of
her ivory shoulders, which were further set
off by a berthe of black lace fastened with
a diamond 6tar. She was employed in
looking over the contents of a small port
folio, covered witli crimson velvet, with
clusps and corners of gold studded with
pearls, and filled with small pieces of paper,
all in the same, handwriting, and bearing
the same signature. A smile curved her
beautiful lips, a strange smilo for a mouth
so lovely ; it was cold and bitter, more pain
ful to look upon than a frown. Such was
the Murchesa d'Agliano, the' most beauti
ful woman in London. A servant announc
ed "Lord Lyndon," and closing the port
folio, she rose to receive hiin, tho smile on
her lip giving place to one of welcome.
Five years hail made but little change in
the appearancdof Lord Lyndon, except that
he was still handsomer than - when he won
poor Nina's heart, and his manners had ac
quired udditional grace. Clasping the off
ered hand of the Marchess, he pressed it to
his lips before ho spoke ; then drawing a
chair close to hers, he said, "Well, Beat
rice, to-day the yearofmy probation is
ended. It is now exactly one year since
the day I first told you I loved you ; will
you give me a definite answer now 1"
The Murchesa listened with the same
cold and caustic smile playing upon her
lips, and when he paused for a reply, with
out heeding his words, she said, "Lord
Lyndon, I wjll tell you a little story." The
lover looked surprised, but without heeding
his astonished looks, she pressed the black
heavy braids from his brow, and, after a
moment's thought, began. Hitherto the
conversation had been carried on in English,
but now, she spoke in Italian with a rapidi
ty of enunciation that effectually precluded
every attempt at interruption.
"Some years ago, my lord, there lived in
Rome two orphan sisters. They were of
noble birth, but poor, and the depended
upon their talents for subsistence j tho el
der taught drawing, and the younger music.
She was very beautiful and very guileless,
and tho elder watchod over her with all a
mother's care, for she was the last being
who claimed her love. She always accom
panied her when she went to give her les
sons, and guarded her with the watchful
ness necessary in a land where beatty is al
most a curse, but at last she full si ok, and
her sister went fori alone to her daily
tasks. She met, at the house of one of
her pupils, a young foreigner ; ho was cap
tivated by her beauty, and made her propo
sals, which she spurned witlr indignation ;
he then offered her his hand on condition
that the marriage should be kept secret ;
she loved him, and she consented. But the
valet of the young man sought out the el
der, told her that her sister was about to
become the victim of a pretended marriage
performed by a false priest, and, as a proof
of his assertions, showed her a letter which
his master had given him to burn, a con
gratulation from some one as base as him
self, on securing so easily the lovely prize
He indicated to her the house where the
ceremony was to be performed j sho hast
ened tliith errand arrived in time to save
hor sister; but her heart was broken.
Wealth and rank became theirs by the
death of a distant relative, but all too late.
My lord, look here." " And rising from her
eat, the lady drew aside the black' velvet
al, QthliY to Sincricim Jntcnsfs, 3Tilcniiurf, Science, anii
curtain, and Lord Lyndon looked once more
upon the face of Nina. But how changed!
The same brilliant eyes and glowing cheeks
were there, but the lips that had ever greet
ed his coming with smiles, wore an expres
sion of deep yet patient sadness, and the
very beauty of that fair face seemed like
flowers strewed upon a corpse to hide by
its loveliness tho ravages of death. Lord
Lyndon seemed violently agitated, and
seizing the arm of the JIarchesa, he ex
claimed, "In pity, tell me, Beatrice, isshe
She burst into a sardonic laugh. "Lis
ten to this man!" sho exclaimed; "he
breaks the heart of a girl who truly loved
him, and then asks, 'Is she dead V Sho
died in my arms scarce a year from the
time you cruelly deceived her. I am her
sister ; but as you never beheld my face
but once, I can pardon you for not recog
nizing in the Marjhcsa Beatrice, Teresa
d'Agliano the sister of your victim."
Ho did not seem to hear her, but stood
gazing on the portrait, his lip quivering
with painful emotion, "ueatnee, lie at
length said in a deep troubled tone, "1
scarcely can hope you will believe my words,
yet if ever remorse visited human heart
mine has felt its bitterest pangs. Were
Nina living, my hand and heart should he
hers; but, alas! I enn give you no proofs
of tho sincerity of what I say. I dare no
longer hope you will listen to my suit ; I
can no longer offer you my hand ; I may
only plead that you will pardon the bitter
wrong I have inflicted on you, and that you
will believe in the truth of my repentance.'
'You can then feel remorse, contrition !'
she exclaimed; 'you, the cold-hearted lib
ertine; you, the murderer of my sister!
Noj I cannot realize such a change."
"Then I must go unpardoned," he Eaid
in a low tone.
Beatrice buried her face in her hand for
a few moments ; when she again raised her
head, the scornful expression of her, features
hud given place to one of sadncssi "My
lord," she said, "I believe you, and in that
belief! renounce a project of vengeance
treasured ever since -my sister's death. The
Italian count who nightly tempted you' to
tho gaming table, and to whom you lost
such immense sums, was my tool, for I
sought to avengo my sister by, taking from
you what I believed every Englishman held
dearer than life, money. .Here," she con
tinued, laying her hand upon the little velvet-covered
portfolio, "lies oil your wealth,
and thus do I restore it to you."
Sho opened the portfolio, and, taking out
tho papers it contained, tore them into
atoms; then, turning to Lord Lyndon, she
said, "My lord, we part now forever. Fare
'Forever ! Oh, not forever, Beatrice !"
he exclaimed. "Your generous forbear
ance gave me hope ; do not crush it at
"My lord, farewell," she repeated, ex
tending her hand. He raised it to his lips,
and then, with a look of passionate adora
tion, repeated her last words, "Farewell,"
and retired As his last footstep died away,
she turned towards the portrait, "la hot
this the vengeance that would have glad
dened thy heart, my sister 1" she murmur
ed. It mayjiave been the waving of the cur
tains, the flickering of the dying sunlight,
but something like a smile flitted over the
sad sweet face of Nina's portrait.
. NAMES AND NATURE.';
Abba An angelic amaranth
Addie Agreeable, accomplished. . ..
Albertine Affectionate, admirable.
Angelina Active, attcniive.
AnnaAttractive-, attainable. r
Belle Benevolent, bewitching.
Clara-Cautious, categorical, courteous.
Cora Cheerful, charming, coquettish.
Delia Diligent, dutiful.
Evelyn Enthusiastic, easily excited.
' Emelino Earnest, emulous." '
Fanny Ftunk,' faithful, friendly.
Francis Fascinating, I'oiUtnate.
Hattie Hoping, happy.
Harriet Heart harnessing.
Julia Joyful, judicious.
Lizzie Loving, loquacious.
Louisa Light-hearted, lovely.
Mary --Mild, mysterious.
Minnie Mirthful and musical;
v Mattie Mighty mischivous. , ing.
,Melinda -Meditat' marrying Mr. Moor
Nettie Notoriously nice", i '
Ora Overwhelmingly ornamental. ,
Patlie Pretty, patient, precarious.
Rosa Resistless, resolute, romantic.
Sarali Safe, sanguinary, sublime.
Sophia Scrutinizing ecrutinizer. '
Niinrod, can you tell me who was the
first maii ?" 'Yes, sir ; his name was
Adam Adam somebody. His father
wasn't nobody, and he never had a moth
er on account of the scarcity of women,
I 'sposc, and shinplaster bank-smashing.'
OHIO, , WEDNESDAY,
The Philosophy of Happiness. ;
Life is not all sunshine, neither is it all
shadow. The perpetual complainer is a
ibeler of God's munificence. Not only are
there sunny prospects upon which the eye
may rest with pleasure, but the disturbing
causes which ruffle the stream of life are
very much under our own control.. It is a
serious mistake to attribute to the provi
dence of God the many annoyances which
spring up in our path to chafe and irritate.
True, calmness of various kinds, affecting
our health, prosperity, and social relations,
may assail us, under a divine commission ;
and yet even in these marked cases, we may
often trace the affliction, not to an arbitral
ry decree of God, but to our own reckless
disregard of the laws by which, according
to the dictates of reason, we should have
been governed. How often is the health
inpaired and completely undermined by
the imprudent indulgence of appetite!
How often is fortune dissipated by an in
sane avarice which tempts men to imperil
what they posseps in hope of acquiring
more than is needful ! And how often, too,
are our social comforts interrupted and
clouded by our own gross mismanagement !
Thus in sufforiug tho severest adversities,
we may detect our own instrumentality
in their occurrence, and see occusion for
self-accusation rather than of complaint
against the divine beneficence. The truth
is, that we aro admirably constituted for
huppincss, and the works of God by which
wo are surrounded are peculiarly well fitted
to promote our enjoyment ; it is by the in
tervention of sin that this divine arrange
ment is disturbed, and that tho very.objccts
which were designed to minister to our
happiness, become fruitful sources of sor
It is important, too, to consider that the
seat of happiness is the ruind, and that it
depends not so much on outward appliances
as on the proper regulation of the thoughts
and affections. ylt is not within the power
of external circumstances to' render us un
happy. That effect is produced only when
the mind is disordered ; when the power of
endurance has been awakened, and sombre
clouds, have been suffered to gather to ob
scure the sunlight of heaven. In other
words, he must be fcappy whose thoughts
have a riht direction, and whose passions
are under proper control. The evil passions
of our nature are the prolific springs of pur
misery. Hence it is that we often find the
least enjoyment amidst all the outward ap
plications of happiness. Wealth may fur
nish its luxuries, health, afford the capacity
for their enjoyment, and yet wounded van
ity, inflamed jealousy, angry excitement,
disappointed ambition, revengful and ma
levolent feelings,' mny bo pre-occupy the
mind and poison its springs, us to render
happiness impossible. It is in these moods
that multitudes abandon their homes and
seek relief in foreign travel, but carrying
their discontented temper with, them, the
mere change of clime produces no mitiga
tion. On the contrary, the mind which is
Kept in repose by a confident reliance on
tho beneficence of Providence, and which
lias learned the divine art of contentment,
which keeps every passion under control,
and cultivates pure aspirations, may bid
defiance to outward tumults, and amidst
the storms which wreck the hopes of others
may preserve -
The soul's calm sunshine and tho heartfelt joy.'
Epigram on a Woman Hater. One
of the, best epigrams ever written was
conjured up a good many years ago by
we don't know whom. r Quien sab'el
Hero it is :
As Harry was one (lay abusing the sex.
As things that in courtship but studied to
vex, ' ' :
And in mfrriagebut sought to. enthral
'Never mind;him,' Bays Kate, 'tis a fami
ly whim ;
His father agreed so exactly with him.
That he never would marry at all I"
Lawyers, according , to , Martial,-are
men 'w ha eat , their words and anger.'
Their words are very costly ' although
intrinsically they often resemble the dar
liey's account, which 'didn't amount to
any particular sum." '
. lloiace seemed to know what local ed
itors daily experience. To sketch a racy
item requires infinieily more wit than the
world generally imagines. Horace says :
'To write on vulgsr themes is thought an
ir?fJo not utter velvet words if thou
intendeat to accomplish' stony deeils.-
1 artan Proverb. : -m,
The lawyer who believes il is wicked
to lie, Is spending a week with the Qua
ker who indulges in marine hornpinei. -
NOV. 11. 1855.
' SHE CHANGED HER MIND.
There are some persons who are never
sick, without thinking themselves very
much worse off than they really are. Of
this class was Mrs. Haskins, a young
married lady, and the mother of two fine
boys. On one occasion, being visited by
a fever, the consequence of imprudent ex
posure, she gave herself op to the melan
choly fancies which usually assailed her
and persuaded herself that she was going
In consequence of this melancholy
presentiment, she assumed sowoe-begone
an appearance that even her medical at
tendant was startled into believing that
she was much worse than from her symp
toms he had judged her to be.
Under these circumstances he advised
her to make what earthly preparations
she had yet to make, while she had yet
time to do 'so.
Mrs. Haskins was an affectionate moth
er, and the thought of parting from the
children to whom she was so warmly at
inched, at a time when, more than any
other, they needed a mother's care, was
.'Their father will be kind to them, no
doubt, and see that they are amply pro
vided for, but nothing he can do will
supply to them the loss of a mother."
- Gradually the idea of a step mother
suggested itself to tho lady's imagination,
and such was her care for .the happiness
of her children that she became rcconcil
ed to an idea so repugnant to most wives,
and actually began to consider who, among
her acquaintances, was best fitted to be
cornea second Mrs. Haskins.
. At length her choice fell upon a Miss
Parker, an intimate friend of her own.
Feeling anxious to havo this matter set
tied, she dispatched a messenger post
haste for Miss Parker, who after a biief
interval made her appearance at her friends
, 'My dear friend said Mrs. Haskins,
in a feeble voice, ' have sent for you for
what perhaps you will consider a singu
lar reason. But, believe me, it is a moth
er's anxiety that prompts me. I am very
sick and cannot live Ions;. So the doctor
tells me, ttnd my own feelings tell me,
that it must he so, The situation in
which I shall leave my poor boys, who
will thus be deprived of a moiher's watch
ful care, distresses me beyond measure.
There is only one way in which my an
xiety can be relieved, and this it is which
has prompted mo lo send for you. Prom
ise me when I am gone you will, marry
Mr Haskins; and be to them a second
mother. Do you tcfuse me ; it is my last
Desirous of comforting her friend, Miss
Parker assented to her request, adding:
' .'I will comply with your request, and
more willingly, fo I always liked Mr
Haskins.' - ..
Always liked Mr Haskins!" exclaim
ed his dying wife, raising herself on her
elbow, her feeling of conjugal jealousy
for a moment overpowering maternal aff
ection. 'you always liked my husband did
you ? Then, I vow you shall never mar
ry him if I have to live to prevent it.'
, And Mr. Haskins did live. The re
vulsion of feeling resulting from Miss
Parker's unexpected declaration accom"
plished in her case what the skill of phys
icians hud been unable to effect.
' There is an old saying, which, like
most old sayings, has in it not a little
truth ; that when a woman wills, she will,
depend on't, and when she won't, she
Wonl't, and there's an end on it. So it
was in the case of Mrs. Haskins. She
was determined that if Mr. Haskins ever
does have a second Kite, it shall not be
Miss Parker. i :. : ' ' r
Power. I honor the passion for pow
er and rule as little in the people as in a
king. It is a vicious principle, exist
where it may. If by democracy is meant
the exercise of sovereignty by the people
under all those provisions and self impos
ed restraints which tend much to secure
equal laws, and the rights of each and all,
then I shall be proud to bear -its name.
But the unfettered multitude is not dear
er to ma than the unfettered king. Chan-
A GOOD STOEY.
A LITTLE TOO PUNCTUAL.
The hour was approaching for the de
parture of the New JIaven steamboat
from her berth at New York, and the usu
al crowd of passengers, and friends of pas
sengers, newsboys, fiuit venders, cabmen
and dock loafers, were assembled on and
about the boat. We were gazing at the
motley group, from the foot of the prom
enade deck stairs, when ouratteniion was
attracted by the singular action of a tall,
brown Yankee, in an immense wool hat,
chocolate colored-coat and pantaloons,
and a fancy vest. He stood near the star
board paddle box, and scrutinized sharp-
y every female who came on board, and
now and then consulted an enormous sil
ver bull's eye watch, which he raised
from the depths of a capacious fob, by
means of a powerful sled chain. After
mounting guard in .this manner, he dash
ed furiously down the gang plank and u p
the plank and up the wharf, re-appearing
on board almost instantaneously, with a
flushed face, expressing the most intense
anxiety. This series of operations he
performed several times, after which he
rushed jibnut the boat, wildly and hope
lessly, ejaculated :
What's the time of day ? Wonder if
my repeater's fast? Whar's thecap'n?
W liar's the steward ? Whar's the mate?
Whar's the boss that owns the ship?'
'What's the matter, sir V we ventured
to ask him, when he stood for a moment. I
'Han't seen nothin' of a gal in a blue
sun bonnet, with a white Canton crape
shawl, (cost fifteen dollars,) pink gown,
and brown boots, hey ? come on board
while I was looking for the cap'n at the
pint end of the ship have ye ? hey V
No such person has come aboard.'
Tormented lightning ! she's my wife!'
he screamed ; married her yesterday.
All her trunks and mine are aboard, un
der a pile of baggage as tall as a Connect
icut steeple. The darn'd black nigger
says, he can't hand it out, and I won't
leave my baggage, anyhow. My wife
only think on it was to have come a
board at half-past four, and here it's most
five. What's become of her? she can't
have eloped. We hain't been married
long enough for that. You don't think
she's been abducted, do ye, mister?
Speak ! answer? won't ye? 0! I'm ra"
vin' distracted! What are you ringing,
that hell for ! Is the ship afire ?'
It is the signal for departure the first
bell. The second will be rung in four
.Thunder 'you don't say so ? Whar's
the cap.n ?'
'That gentleman in the blue coat.'
The Yankee darted to "the captain's
Cap'n, stop the ship for ten minutes
won't ye ?'
'I can't doit, sir.'
But you must, I tell you. I'll pay
you for it. How much will je tax ?'
' ! could not do it.'
Cap'n, I'll give you lew dollars gasp
ed tho Yankee.
The captain shook hia head.
'I'll give you five dollars and a half
and a half ! and a half I' he kept repeat
ing, dancing about in his agony, like a
mad jackass on a hot iron plate.
The boat starts at five, precisely said
the captain, shortly, and then turned a-
'0, you stunny hearted hcathin !' mur
mured the Yankee, a'.moSl bursting into
tears. 'Partin' man and wife, and we
just one day married.'
At this moment the huge paddle wheels
began to paw the water, and the walking
beam descended heavily, shaking the
huge fabric to her centre. All who were
not going to New Haven, went ashore.-
The hands began to haul in the gang
planks ; the fasts are already cast loose.
Legco that plank ! roared the Yaa
kee, collaring one of the hands. Drop it,
like a hot potatoe, or IT heave ye into the
dock.' ' '
Yu vo l shouted the men in chorus,
as they heaved on the gangway,
Shut up, you braying donkeys! yel
ed the maddened Yankee, or there'll be
an ugly epot of work.'
But t,he plank was got aboard, and the
VOLUME I. NUMBER 45.
boat splashed past the pier. ,
In an instant the Yankee pulled off hia
coat, flung his hat beside it on the deck.
and ruehed wildly to the guard. -
Are you drunk or erazy 1' cried a pa
senger seizing him.
I'm ffoin' to fling myself into the dock
and swim ashore 1' cried the Yankee.-
I niusi'nt leave Sairy Ann alone in New
York city. You may divide the baggage
among ye. Let go me I I cart swim
He strugglied so furiously that the eon
sequences of hia rashness might have been
fatal, had not a sudden apparition chang
ed his purpose. A very pretty young
woman, in a blue bonnet, white Canton
crape shawl, pink dress and brown boot
came towards him. '
The big brown Yankee uttered one
stentorian shout of 'Sairy Ann I' clasped
hel in his arms, in spite of her struggling,
and kissed her heartily, right before all
Where did you come from he inqui
From the ladie's cabin answered the
bride. 'You told me half-past four, but
I thought I'd make sure and come at
A little too punctual !' said the Yan
kee. 'But it's all right now. Halloo,'
cap'n, you can go ahead now, I don't
care about stopping. Come near losing
the passage money and the baggage
come nigh getting drowned, Sairy, all
along of you but it's all right now. Go-
ahead, steamboat t Ilosin up, there, fire
men ! Darn the expense V
When the sun set, the loving couple
were seen seated on the upper deck, the
big, brown Yankee's arm encircling the
waist of the young woman in the blue
bonnet and pink dress. We believe they
reached their destiny safe and sound.
A Golden Thought
We know not the author of the follow
ing, but it is one of the most beautiful pro
ductions that we have ever read; ;
Nature will be reported. - All things
are engaged in writing their own history.
The planet and the pebble goes attended
by its shadow, The rolling rock leaves
its scratches on the mountain side", the
river its channels in the soil ; the animal.
its bones in the stratum ;the fern and leaf.
their modest epitaph in the coal. ;. The
falling drop makes its sepulchre in the
sand or stone ; not a fooispace into mow
or along the ground, but prints in eharae-
ters more or less lasting, a map of its
march; every act of man inscribes ' itself
on the memories of its fellows, and in his
own face. Tho air is full of sound the
sky of tokens : the ground is all merupr
and the signatures, and every object is
covered over with hints that speak to the
Is it so, Somebody we don't know
who and it makes no difference, thus
warns young men to beware of women ;
Young man keep your eye peeled when
yon are alter women I Is the pretty
dress or form attractive' t Or a pretty
face, even? Flounces, boy, are of no
consequence. A pretty face will grow
old. Paint will wear off. The sweet
smile of the flirt will give way to the
scowl of the termagant. The neat form
will be pitched into calico. Another and
far different being will take the place of
the lovely goddess who smiles so sweet
and eats your candy. Keep your eye
peeled, boy, when you are after the wom
en. If the little dear is cross and scolds
at her mother in the back room, yon may
be sure that you will get particular fits
around the house. If she apologizes for
washing the dishes, you will need a girl
to fan her. ' If she blushes when found
at the wash tub, be sure she is of the eod
fish aristocracy, little breeding and little
sense. If yon marry a girl who knows
nothing but to commit, woman . slaughter
on the piano, you have he poorest piece
of music ever got up.'. , ;
The oddest husbandry we know is when
a man in clover marries a "woman in
weeds. ' " ". ' " " ' "
The toothache may be cured by holding
in the hand a certain root the root of the
aching tooth. ' ; ,
A fire company is about to be organi
zed in Tinicum, manned entirely by worn-,
en. Won't tho boy run after that ma
chine! v :.':'.' -''-.