K- - - -
) m -
?Of.IXGER IIUTCUI.-SOff, I WOULD RATHER BE RIGHT THAN" PRESIDENT. Henry Clay. - ii - I'lTBLlSIIEIlS " - V
YOL.h EBENSBUHG, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER , J859. NO.2. 1
fTX""-!' he published every Thursday, at
f y the following raUSa, viz :
Tor nuniiin, (payable in advance) Si J'J
It not piiid vithin the first six ionth. l-5
If nut paid until the expiration of yir 2.00
A failure ta notify a dicontinu1 at the
pinition of the term subscribe lor will be
iibidered ft new engagement,
T-UX3 or ADVKaT,1Jlio:
1 inserti'"- 2 do. 3 do.
la.e, ri2 lines,) y a si.o.j
.'lares, (24 .a.vts . 1.00 1.50 2.00
.'.larcf, (: lines,) 1.50 2.00 3,00
Pier tliree wccks au icss maninree montiis,
nt per siive lot each insertion.
- 3 intnths. 6 do. 12 do.
ines or k'ss, ' , " .1.50 53.00 $5.00
ro'essional or Business Cu'-jj, not e-
ee ling 8 lines, with papcper year, 5.00
Advertisements not imrked with the
pber of insertions desired, w ill be contin-
tiii torbiUden. ana cnargii accordiuff to
III KC Ili:S, 3IIST5JIS, &.C.-
Yreshyitrian Rev. D. II a R Bid , I'astor.'r-
j.u-hiug. every Sabbath mornVig "at
jock, and in the evenii.g at 6 o 16.k. Sal .
i School at 9 o ci-x-k, A. M. I'raver'tneet-
every Thursday t .eninjr at T o' dock.
iHuwa r.pttroiHt' I hurt-a Re. 'I S:i.
i.cr hi .iiarsrc. Itev.
, A -
ant. IVeacliiau- pi ,-rv il.i,
- i -ITH
u o cioi-K in tlie
n.ining, or Tl m the
t'.ool at 0 flVLn't x w
every Th.irsday cveaiiig at 7
c k .
ft lT n.frut- -v I.L
n. i'litti t.
i .V-.U.I!g cv
a:u in ?
renin. l J o clock.
s.-hooi at 1 , J ck 1 M. I'm
oi: the first .' I v eveumir of
ii'j ; am on ; ever, t'lesda;
Fr.i::.y iof e :-tj':u l
be firv, v-eek
ii ta im-.i
rRv. .Tonv , i.iias?,
ry S.tbbath v-Ti'g at
:h Sci oul ai lo i ':locL.
ever Frid.vy evt iintr
d r. uu
I 1 r.v
-.t.i iujr e-. '
K S; l,b
T Jaeetin ,
iv e e.iliig
.'re: l, s V, .L.OVD, F lltST-Pr !tC l-
:.vcry ''. ),n:h ' ijriiing at i0 clock. ;
t ' "'' '' ' IUv. IHvid jEvnxs,
r.--Pe .'i.rtg ,-very Sabbath cvcniig at
l..ck. S; ,:,uUi School at 1 o'clock. If. M.
i Ik-- '.. J. MiTt'iiELt.. Pa.tr.
''.' ic.- ovvr
:ib' ath tuurniii. at 104 ol.ck
i c clock i:i the evening, f
r. is 5 k $ itvm a .11 .4 1 s.
US ARRIVE. '
rn, daily t 1 1 i.olock. A.M.
eru, " "at 11 " I.V.
rn. dailyAit 5 o'clock. P. M.
0 Aj M
f r ) m f! u 1 1 er , T ml i:i n a .S t ro njrs-
. Ac., arr
week, at :
e ou Tuesday ad Friday of
) clock, I. M.
at 7 o'cloL A. M.
irt on MonlAV3 aia iiinr-
a from Newman's Mill.', Car-
, tc., ai-ive on Monday and Friday of
week, at 3 b clock, P. M.
ive-Ebensljirg on Tuesdays and Satur
at 7 o'cloei, A. V.
r Post Otlte open on Sundays from 9
Kxpre..? Train. leaves at 0.16 A. M
Mail Traid t.48 P. 11.
-fcs-nr.sa T.;n 1? ! I f
Mah Tr ,;.,. ' m ' r. v
Judytt of the V?irf.Pref:ident, Hon. Geo.
yv .or, Huntings,, . Associates, George
sley, Richard Joig, Jr.
J'rothonotarv. Jose M Donald.
ptyUtrr end ?rr.r.Michacl Uassoit.
Sheriff. Robert P. Linto.
P l'itty Sheriff. George U.K. Zahm.
Ihttriet Attorney. ThcophibL. Heyer.
County CommUmnner. Thorni M'Conufcll
hn Rearer, Abel Lloyd. V '
CC rk to CminUnioner. George C. r. Z-hm.
Cuntl 10 Commiioner. John S. Rey.'
Jri fxurcr. George J. Rodgers.
J'" House Director: William Palmer,
vi.l O Harro, Michael M'Guire.
four House Treasurer. George C. K. Zahm.
J'oor lloue Seward. James J. Kaylor.
Mercantile Appraiser. Francis Tierney.
Abator. Hew J. Lloyd, Daniel Uobaugh,
County Surtrtor. Henrv Scanlan.
! Corf,ner. Ptvw Io,eherty.
ij,erinlendeHt oj Common School. S. B.
tnnxsnrnc 110. officers.
Jusicri of the reace. I-;,i tt. Roberts.
linryti. John D. Hughes. -
Tovn CouuriL Andrew Lewis,. ToSTjT,a p.
arrish, David Lewis, .Richard J.n jf
Clerk to Council. Janes C. Noon.
Borough Treasurer. George GurIcy.V.
Weigh .Vaster. Davis & Lloyd, j I
School Directors.. C. M 'digue, X.
,r..rker, Thomas M. Joie?. Ucese b. Ipyu,
F.WN....I (ll..ca Willinm ftivis. '
Treasurer of Sch-ol Bbrd. -Evan .lorfan-i
V. 1 .... I ..... ,
tWW?.-ae.rge Outer.- .
T. Collector. Ueorge imey. ;
AiMtsor. Ui :barl T. Vxr
? - J i ?y, '.cio. -T)Rvid JVJoi.e'-
1 fxtjectprt. I .vii. lL T. , j, ; Ui il
kuare, (12 lines.) '2...0 4.50 f
Luares, (24 lines,) .00 ?.00 12.
l rcs, (30 lines,) ..) 9.00 14.
ilfcoiumn, 10. (W 12.00 20.
uccolumn, 15.01 22.00 35.
ilninistrator's and Execute's Notices, 1.7
For the Alleghanio..
now the spirit in its longing,
Yearns to turn the mystic page,
And behold the doom of mortals,
Poet, statesman, priest, and sage
Longs to pass the guarded portalj
Of some glowing, far off land ;
Glowing but by touch of fancy
- With magician's magic hand.
Sweet the grapes we see by fancy, -Fair
the pictured roses all,
Bright they look upon the branches.
They are withered when they fall.
Where's the heart that ne'er erected
Air-built castles fair, and high,
Never dreamed of joys elysian,
Cherished hopes of brilliant dye?
Ne'er a future cast of pleasure,
Seen a form of beauty's mould,
Clasped an unseen hand, and wandered
Through a laud of gems, and gold.
Ne'er a palace built of diamonds,
Gathered grapes from forest bower ;
Sweet thej look upon the branches
When wc t. ste, they're cankered sour.
Where are opes of early manhood
Hopes whlc i budded fair, and bright?
They are v lished ; they are withered,
Buried in oi li ion's night.
Where the j ys, hope said would meet us
When auoil: t page we'd turn
Of life's cl.e'i acred map ? They're buried
Deep in Time's old iron Urn.
Maid up n li. -'s blooming portals,
Boy upon tin- threshold home
Gather lruit: n childhood hours
. Era in dUtaut climes you roam.
Ert - thy fatbcvB voice doth vanish
Frc a the old f. miliar hall ;
Kre thy mother sleepcth sweetly,
' . Whcr the wood-larks loudly call.
Ere tl y sister, er- thy brother,
Roan, in distant iaads away,
ScUl. roses o'er their pathway
Scatter kind words while you may.
For witli once the mystic turning
Of the future's darkened page,
Ah 1 thy sad heart may be mourning
Over griefs cone may assuage.
Spirit longings for the future,
Wishing present hours away ;
But to taste the cup of picas urg
Which may come another day.
Ah ! the dVcp, the bitter anguish,
When 'tis.sjjread before our eyes
With tio hue of what was promised,
Whi'H u-eJoked through fancy's guise.
Al 1 the pictures we have painted,
A I. the brilliant hopes of yore.
Tin. r nrv'heaped in memory's casket,
Live 13 relics ; nothing more.
Dark, nystcrious, far off futuro,
Who th i lift the mystic veil,
Who for tell the scenes awaiting,
Who rep. at life's wondrous tale?
Without Knowing, without seeing,
Xone can r -ad the page aright,
Each .rill w ave a joyous future,
Thong. (ije ircscnt have no light.
Ah 1 tun t-p t . pver longing
To uplift v.. - ,yst;c vn,
When its- -j ig ;a TSad in real
Sad may k.c y.tr anguished waiL
Tmarb. trc'l .li?" future', mystic,
'. 'Tina;,- be .' we c annot see
What is wr'ttea ou her page.,
What ia titi'j storn, strict decree.
lh 1 if all were laid before us
All that life has Fad, or bright
We would shrink did not hope lead us
Onward by her fairy light.
Yet wcre ever, ever wishing
For another page to turn
another leaf to wither
Lik.M. ret j ijemory9 xrrn.
Scptcml-r i-igrjg Jensib.
IIOBIB.K DEAT. vRoM II YDROP110B1A
v rreiaumuuuieua., Tmi b..f -t-
of hydrophobia, founveeks tcr Lcin- bit
ten U7 a mauuog. jus agnig M
tf an internal fare was consumingj,a jn
oaluier intervals, when water Mould v.e cf
forM him, he rould snatch the dipncY.i"
greedily grulp the draught, upon whit a
epsi.jy.li. uw.r j 01 me glottis, and a
sen.se of mortal stranmiLuinn . . w.i-
jaw, would attac him and brir.g on
fhreest features jf his madness. IIe
would start viol ntly and emappishly at
th KrstrtfiderS; g'angveut, with horribly
Qtf 'featun to noises resembling
. a furiou, dog !
rr.. - -. : "
r . . 5 SuPTRb iWTY. Manv are ufS-
i t !t"i n-uide i s to imagine that . noe-
r r. f . . ,.u
ti3 J - ul apiicurjiu.-,
. it rt n r.vr.aKC,- lor pearls are ar; up
ite waddy W of dark unji.po-
IP ktrena. .' . 1
Joim RandolpU or Koanoke.
A GRAF-UIC SKETCH AND STRIKIXG CONTRAST.
Some forcible writer furnishes the New
York "Century" a highly interesting arti
cle on the ekxiuent, but very eccentric
John Randolph called by one 4the abor
tive thud of talent and notoriety. v e
extract the following in reference to his
singular appearance and peculiarities :
"Let ine introduce my sketch by a marked
contrast. Over the fireplace of one of
the apartments at l.oanoke, hung, not
many years ago, the portrait of a boy of
twelve, by Oilbcrt Stuart. In the rosy
complexion, the bright plump cheeks, the
laughing eyes, and beautiful lips 01 the
boy, you saw and felt the fresh charms of
youth, the innocence and sweet grace of
childhood. One who knew the original
once, held up his hands and exclaimed,
"I never saw such a beautiful boy !" JJis
skin was peculiarly thin and delicate, and
the warm blood played visibly beneath.
In the happy eyes and ingenuous hps,
every motion was distinctly reveaieu.
Such was Randolph at twenty years of
ie. hat was he at titty, or even forty:
I examined his portrait some time since
with melancholy interest. The keen eyes
fixed coldly and steadily on the beholder,
Jt-fled every attempt to read the thought
of the brain underneath. The hair par
ted in the middle and gathered behind the
ears, had lost the youthful gloss of old
days, and was stiff and intractable. The
bright cheeks had become sallow and
hrunken. Ritter tears had dimmed the
bright eyes once so brilliant ; midnight ag
ony and groans had wasted the round
cheeks : between the smiling portrait of
(filbert Stuart and the picture 1 looked on
of the aged man, there was scarcely any
resemblance to be discovered.
Randolph's figure, like his face, was
full of singular eccentricity. Tall, angu
lar, thin as a shadow, he resembled rather
some ghost from another world, than a
veritable being of flesh and blood. IH3
limbs were wonderfully slender, aud the
fashion of the time served to display this
peculiarity to its fullest extent. He wore
small clothes so tight that they seemed to
be a part of his person ; and the snow-
white stockings, fastened at the knees by
a small gold buckle, fitted as close as the
cuticle almost. Over these, and reaching
midway the calf, were a pair of coarse,
country-knit arn stockings, or "hose," as
they were then called. His shoes were of
the old revolutionary fashion, with huge
buckles his coat ample, and buttoned
tightly around his slender woman-like
waist ; his chin half buried itself in the
folds of a great white cravat, and the dry
flaxen hair was surmounted by a fur cap.
The movements of this singular figure
were as unique as the costume. In walk
ingjRandolph followed the Indian fashion,
placing the foot straight in front the toes
inclined neither inward nor outward. A
fanciful mind might have attributed this
peculiarity to his Indian blood, for he was
descended in the seventh degree from the
Trinccss Pocahontas. Moving riuickly
and slowly by starts, with head thrown
back, and the keen eyes sparkling beneath
the rim of his dark fur cap, often mutter
ing to himself, to wake consciousness of
the world around him, and stride on rap
idly to his lonely apartment this singular
figure was eminently calculated" to attract
the attention of every one, whether it mo
ved over the familiar court greens of Vir
ginia, or in the streets of Washington or
J-ondon. In both of these cities he was
the "observed of all observers." The me
tropolis of England, where physical pecu
liarities and eccentricities are met with
incessantly, could furnish nothing stran
ger than the form of the orator of Vir
ginia. In Washington, Baltimore, Phila
delphia, and Richmond, he was the mark
of all eyes to be pointed out with the
finger. Boys often followed him, but
rarely laughed, or indulged in those prac
tical jokes so congenial to the mischie-
vous minds of youth. They trooped afl
Randolph, as one who witnessed the
.J..l 3 -iur.
This notoriety annoyed himIIe al
alteration a b .cMcle-either a
madeuseof hispnvfd , f blooJe1
coach dragged ?- ,J r . .f
horses, or a 7 d h aTfa "hU
' 1 1 .. ... Yt l iit! W I1' 11S
crvnnt "jura was i
JV'V r .....i..j f..Wl,fi,l ,..,in.
aamc, a warm-nean.i uu .-
a wl Vis master with extreme at-
fection. ancI clung to him in sickness and
health, in joy and sorrow.
.On a par with hi3 singularity of dress
and personal appearance, were the lfianner
of speaking, tone of voice, gesticulation in
public address, and habits in general of
the - Individ .i. His voice was high
pitched, 4ud, n.cr strong exeircmenr, u
'rose vv nxn. -)va JMiv.
the farthest limits of the greatest crowd,
and was heard above the loudest uproar.
There wa-s a satirical and ironical deliber
ation in the shrill invective thus uttered,
which produced a curious impression upon
the listener. Once heard inhis moments
of cold passion, if I may so speak, Ran
dolph was never forgotten. The use which
he made of his long thin forefinger is well
known. He would sometimes stand for
several moments perfectly silent, with his
penetrating eye riveted upon the person
whom he addressed, or of whom he spoke,
and the ghostly finger and long angular
arm moving slowly up and down -when
those who were familiar with his habit
knew that he was selecting and arranging
in the depths of his mind the very words
and turns of phrase of sarcasm or invective
which he designed.
Many anecdotes are related of the effect
produced by the voice and finger as when
after a violent denunciation of his charac
ter and career by a young member of the
House, he rose quietly, and Rtretchinsrout
his arm, said, in calm, indifferent tones,
'.Mr. speaker, , who m Unit omth-mdn ?
It was impossible not to be interested in
his speeches, for they are exquisitely
choice in their phraseology; and no .sen
tence passed his lips which had not first
been framed and polished carefully, so to
peak, in his mind. Often his gestures
were dramatic and expressive as when
he rendered up his public trust, after the
Old Convention of which I have spoken.
It is tune lor me to retire and stand be
fore another tribunal," he said, solemnly,
'where a verdict of acquittal will be of in
finitely more importance than any from an
earthly tribunal. Here is the trust which
you placed in my hands twenty-eight years
ago. llien stooping forward and exten
ding his arms as though he rolled a great
weight toward his hearers, "take it back !
take it back !" he said, and mounting his
horse without further words, rode off.
Throughout his entire life, from the day
in March, 1710, when he mounted the
rostrum from which Patrick Henry had
just descended, to his sorrowful death in
May, 1S3.," his peculiarities of speaking,
acting, dressing and living, attracted uni
Wouldn't arry A JEecI-isiiIc.
A young man commenced visiting a
young woman, and appeared to be well
pleased. One evening he called when it
was ouite late, which led the lady to in
quire where he had been.
"I had to work to-night.
"What! do you work for a living?"
she inquired with astonishment.
"Certainly," replied the young man.
"I am a mechanic."
"I dislike the name of mechanic," she
That was the hist time the young me
chanic visited the young woman. He is
now a wealthy man, and has one of the
best 01 women for a wife.
The young lady who disliked the name
of mechanic is now the wife of a miserable
fool, a regular vairrant about grog-shops:
and she soft, verdant, silly, miserable
rirl is obliged to take in washing in or
der to support herself and children.
You dislike the name of mechanic, eh ?
you whose brothers are but dressed loaf
ers ? We pity any girl who has so little
brains, who is so verdaut and soft as to
think less of a young man for being a me
chanic , one of (iod's noblemen, the most
dignified and honorable personage of heav
en's creatures. Beware, young lady, h""
juu 11. ai in. jxjuui iii.u tuiit iil fn
living, for you may one day be -'
one of them yourself.
bar better discard the braEfenncs.f
with all his rings c to your affections
and pomposity, intelligent, and indus
the callous-han Thonslfnda have bittcr
trious inechcir foUj wbo ave turned
r.eOu.ks to honesty. A few years have
th5Jht them a severe lesson. In this
"country no man or woman should be re
spected who will notwork, bodily or men
tally, and who curl up their lips with scorn
when introduced to a hard-working man.
The curse of God and every human being,
who has the least amount ot common sense,
ever rest pon such ladies as-despise tb
JBSyThc following is
is an un1.1l-
... .Til cf . V-T. .TO
ing remedy for fcr of gt
conVee-d keep it f ot, and when the
nTt chill is felt, pour out about a pint and
mueez. the juice of a couple of lemons
into it and a little sugar to make it pala
table, drink it off, go to bed and cover up
k . , f- ,lltt
warm. One trial 01 mis uueu -.o.
two or three triajs never fail- .. ;
Bfead is the .taff of life- , . J '
"A home to go to." -Vr. EIU. '
Beautiful, inexpressible beautiful defi
nition, suggestive of gentleness, affection,
nut ! Yes, rest and home.
Even I I who have been a wanderer
all my life long who have never had a
fireside all my own mine to be sat by
with a second self, dearer, if possible, than
the fireside even I, lingering over that
phase, can scarcely reconcile myself to
the fact that I am not to some true and
faithful heart that "being to go home to."
J-ven I can shut my eyes and dream a
dream of which that would be a blessed
I can see a cottage which love has
made holy, nestling away in the sunny
summer leaves, where the golden glory
of sunset longest lingers, and the shadows
latest reach. I can see the gentle wife,
with Jier soft, sweet face, gazing out
through the open door, and down the
lane to the turnpike where hs is momen
tarily expected to appear. I can hear the
hum of children's voices, and feel the
pressure of cool, fresh kisses, which come
only from childhood's lips. I can read in
the sudden flashing of her eye that there
is a step not too far distant for her im
patient ear to distinguish; and now I can
see him, that impetuous, worldly man.
leaving the" world aud its cares behind
him to meet the being he has "come home
to." There is a loving wife in his arms;
there are children clambering his knees 1
for kisses; there is peace, quietude, nww, j
allaround him, and the worldly man,
with the dust of city life on his spirit,
with the knowledge of city cares and city
speculations teeming in his brain, turns ,
from them all to find rest and repose in the
little nook he has set apart tor love ! God
bless and God bless lwr imaginary
though they are ; for while 1 witness their
perfect love and content, I am remember
ing that I am still a wanderer. I wander
with the knowledge that, had fate been
more propitious, I, too, might have had
my loving heart, my sunny home, and my
loving children. But fate was inexorable,
and when all this happiness might have
been, lies stark and bare before me the
panorama of two wasted lives. God help
us all ; wc are not the architects of our
own destiny, let moralists say what they
I know that the world is full of homes
that are no homes, of wives upon whose
artificial hearts no true husband could
call for sympathy, or upon mothers whose
bare, jeweled necks there is no room for
childhood's fondling arms. I know all
this, yet I cannot realize that it is so !
Love seems to me so sacred, marriage so
holy a tie, that man's or woman's life should
not be complete without it. Not the wild,
fierce, persistent love which burns itself
out in its own fire not the marriage of
circumstance or convenience to which
so many lives are devoted, but the pure,
true, la-sting love the wedding of souls
that have grown dissolubly to each other
the uniting of hearts that neither time,
nor distance, nor misfortune can effect
a union of soul, sense, and spirit, sure as
death, and lasting as eternity, l'ltiiulog
most pitiful, that there arc no more
unions. . .1
a u.iug w g. iyujf in every
heart of man can tfJ0 JNo niatter
We, such a Jbcrji'pocc upied-nomat-Sdown
with the cares and
ter ll0WtIe,0f life, there come yearnings
FCria rupturous, human love, drcaniings
A0fc.nd lips and warm, loving arms, and
m'Hrinations of a time to come when one
."V hAWU LI J.
heart, out of the great wilderness of hearts,
shall beat for him, and him alone.
Lucky for him who, amidst the unreal
and artificial glare of life, gathers to his
bosom this pearl of greatest prize. Lucky
for him, who, when the tempest of care
and worldly responsibility rage most fierce
ly can feel that when the tiresome toil is
over, and the day is done, he lias "a being
to go home to, who can minister to hi.
. . . .
dise on c-
I-Too Honest. A colored wrvant,
sweeping out a bachelor's room, Tound a
sixpence on the .carpet, which he carried
to the owner, "you may keep it for your
honesty," said he. A short time after he
missed his gold pencil case, and inquired
of the servant it ho had seen it. "lo
sir," was the rcpV- "And what did -
do with it?" 'Kept it f.r my ho-81'.
The old bnclor disapjieared.
" A fiupitim for surrfy-
-Is a rrazy
X ieccoi mt a madttou.se . .
; Whiskey is lifo iuself.
comtort and sympatnise witn nis.,j
The man who has a wife that K f
, . 1. . , 1;. .a nim, can
loves, ana a wne wno iruiv -
WIT AND WISDOM
in- AtiiuiK a iitAVES. a Plactv
where there are no printers devils. "
Pinult. . -
Bg, Politeness is like an air-cushion
there may be nothing soft in it, but it
eases jolts wonderfully. . " ...
?5jult is a heaven upon' earth to have a
man's mind move in chastity, rest in Prov
idence, and turn upon the poles of truth.
BSfDearly I love a friend, yet a foe I
may turn to profit; friends show me that
which I can io foes teach me that which.
I should do.
J85yCatch not too soon at anoffense,Tior
give too easy way to anger. The one
shows a weak judgment, the other a per
?3"Pat, what is the roscn that you
and your wife always disagreed"
its kaze we're both of one mindVi
1 ; she wants
to be master, and so do I !"
BMoney, like manure, does no good
till it is spread. There is no real use of
riches, except it be in the distribution;
the rest is but conceit
BTruthfulness is a corner stone in
the character, and if it is not firmly laid in
youth, there will ever after be a weak
spot in the foundation.
Very Green. "Jeff, why am vou like
the cedar V "I jnivs it up. Sam : I can't
tell you." "Case you stays green both
summer and winter."
Poor Old Lady. An old lady being
told that the world was shortly coming to
an end, exclaimed, "Oh ! what shall 1 do
JjiyA Georgia editor accuses one of his
cotemporaries of "dying his hair and try
ing to renovate his carcass so as to get .
some female into the embraces of his rat
BS"I never come late to a friend's
dinner," says Boileu, "for I have observed
that, when a company is waiting for a
man, they make ue of that time to load
him with abu.ce."
A niXT. "I know I am a perfect bcai
in my manners," said a fine young tanner
to his sweetheart. "No, indeed, you aro
not, John ; jrou have never hugged mo
yet. You are more sheep than bear." -
Very Philosophical. u Xf a-doggie's
tail is cut awf entirely n lt Vf inter
fere with his lowisouiowshun JT " Not,
egzactly, it will no affect his carjAge, bu
'twould stop his waggin." .
Caution. An old lady, hoJf son was
about to proceed to the Black SeS, among
her parting admonitions gave Im Etriot
injunctions not to bathe in that-Sea, for
she did not wanthim to comelioac a nig-
Says Pick to Joe, "Dv4 you attend
church yesterday ?" ' - '
"I was confined to r- room, was tho
TC!llf you b"" ue room-atism, then
said 1'ick. ;
nV2 heard a pood story told lately
of irl auJ lls tow wno discov-
d.a spotted land tortoise while gathcr-
. . -i a .. i..;. -n.
ing perries, una in great iriouiauon caiica
on her company to come and see a rattle
snake with the box with the rattles in on
its back. ,
. A Learned Senator. A distinguish
ed senator--senators are always distin
guished rose, a few days since, in his
place, and solemnly offered a resolution to
the effect that thermometers be placed in
the Senate Chamber, and kept at twenty
degrees above Fahreuheat. , -
A BROTn of A Boy. Testy Lawyer :
"What's your business, my friend ?" Kx- .
ile of Erin : "Sure, and didn't Tim Mul
rooncy's wife's husband tell me that yer
honour was wantin' a boy pf'
"And-do you call yours ?
"Why you murthodoinaxhau! do 1
look like a gi-". J'
.p. old the Doctors. A son of
who was very angry when a. joke
was passed on physicians, once defended
himself from railery, by saying: "I defy
any person whom 1 ever attended to ao
cuse me of ignorance and neglect. Iha
you may do safely," replied
dead men tell no tales.
A Penny. A r6J voaxn called on
Dr. B- -one -in a P' deal of
trouble and on kad waUowed a
penny "P"7 madam isaid the Doctor,
;. :" -.counterfeit?" "Xo sir, certain
was 11 r ' Ia M1
rejoined the facetious
How tiie Atlantic CleBroke'
You remember the po gull who went v
down glued to the 'cable. . His murder
most foul has been amply revenged.- II i
lead carcass was a '- bait f r. the hungry
r-ionnten of the de'p. , snapped
rji andVae cabl. -V-:.eJ VKs bite.
A. i-t. t,...-..i " . .---
.U Ji . wuv i- ' 1 - , .-- -' . .. .
- ii .i
t i :
- - . J '
J , si "
- ' :'
xml | txt