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The Bedford gazette. [volume] (Bedford, Pa.) 1805-current, November 20, 1857, Image 1

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WHOLE NO. 2771. VOL 53.
Dimes and dollars ! dollars and dimes!
An empty pocket's the worst of crimes!
If a mart's down, give him a thrust
Trample the beggar into the dust!
Presumptuous poverty's quite appalling—
Knock him over ! kick him for falling!
If a man's up. oh. lilt h m higher!
Your -out'- for -ale, and he's a buyer !
Dime- and dollars ! dollars and dimes !
An empty pocket's the worst of crimes!
I know a poor but worthy youth,
Whose hopes are butt on a maiden's truth,
But the maiden will break her vow with ease, j
For a wooer cometh whose charms are these,
A bol'ow heart and an empty head,
A face well tinged with the brandy's red,
A soul well trained in villany's school.
And ca-h, sweet ca-h— he know'eth the rule,
Dimes and dollars! dollars and dimes,
An cmptv pocket's the worst of crimes ! j
I know a bold and honest man,
Who strives to live on the Christian plan;
But poor he is, and poor will be,
A scorned and hated thing is he ;
At home he meeteth a starving wife,
Abroad he leadeth a leper's life:
They struggle against a fearful odds,
Who will not bow to tbe people's gods!
Dimes and dollars ! dollars and dimes !
An empty pocket's the worst of crimes!
So get ye wealth, no matter how !
No questions asked of the rich 1 trow;
Steal by night, and steal by day,
(Doing it all in a legal way,)
Join the church and never forsake her,
Learn to cant and insult your Maker;
Be hypocrite, liar, knave and fool,
But don't be poor—remember the rule;
Dimes and dollars, dollars and dimes !
An empty pocket's the worst of crimes !
Hli sc ell an cou s.
The recent sad death of this distinguished
Scotchman, another victim to an overwrought
brain, recalls to my memory tfie living man, as '
I saw him one blight summer morning, more
than a yearago, in Edinburg. He was standing
in front of Scolt's monument, lust in contem
plation over the genius of one who fell, as the
poor man was also soon to fall, a martyr to
inteilecual toil. No sooner was he pointed out
(o me as Hugh Miller than my eyes were riv
eted upon hi.n, as my mind had been some
monies Itefore npon that mot remarkable book
of his, "The Vestiges Creation " He stood
there before n.e, a massive, rough-hewn, and
broadchested man, who looked as if really, to
oseliisovvn words, " In* could lift breast high
the lilting stone of the Drop| ing Cave ol Crom
arty." 1 here lie lingered in front of that
beautiful monument. The hurrying crowd
went by, and all the stirring toil of a busy street
was around him, but he heeded not, tor Ins own
great mind was communing with the spirit of
'the past, recalling !be<toi!s and triumphs of that
mighty master of romance who had woven a
spell around every lake and mountain of his
native land, and to whose memory a grateful
people had erected this beautiful monument.
1 could not 'help being stiuck, as 1 gazed
•upon hirri standing in that sacred spot, with
head uncovered in reverential silence at the
massiveness of hi brain. It was a head requi
ring a hat which would most ceitainiy distin
guish nine-tenths of tbe men of mv acquain
tance. His countenance was cast in the mould
ol Scotch ugliness; but its hard lines and stern
features w eie redeemed by the soft light of as
gentle a blue eve as 1 ever saw in woman.
Coining from the east coast of Scotland, from
that hall Scandinavian population inhabiting
the shores of the German Ocean from Fife to
Caithness, with lire blood of several venture
some sailors and drowned men in his veins,
his physical appearance had somewhat in it, 1
must confess, ofthe rudeness and roughness of
his origin. No one, however, could see that
broad massive brow, overhanging those mild,
tender eyes, without deling that lie was gazing
upon no ordinary man. T longed to speak
with him, it onl v to exchange the salutations
ol the morning with one whose lit-rary labors
I so much admired, and who-n* family of clo
thing the abstruse tilings of science with a
chain unknown before was so wonderful.
Bnli did not presume to intrude upon the
solemnity ot his thoughts, standing there in the
majesty o( his manhood, before the consecrated
shrine of Scotland. Soon he mingled in the
throng ol that busy street, and I saw him no
Several months ago the steamer brought the
news ol his death—and such a death!
Mho could read with dry eyes that sad note,
"to the lair-haired lassie of Cromarty" he had
made his wife, arid for whose sake, at the ma
ture age of thirty, he had lelt the humble
pursuit of a stone mason, to hew for himself, in
the modern Athens, a monument more durable
than rock! In that sad note, written when
the mental chords were all jangling and out
of tune, how the agonized soul groans forth its
"Dearest Lydia :My brain burns—l must
have walked, and a fearful dream arises upon
tne. 1 cannot bear the horrible thought. God
and I ather of my Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy
upon me."
A short hour of comparative quiet, after t
writing these sad uords, the horrible vision,
whatever it was, returns, and in the midst of
the thick darkness that encompasses him he
falls in his desperation by his own hand.
Thus perished, in the height of hi.- fame, the
gifted author of''The Old Red Sandstone," and
the "Foot Prints of the Creator. 7 '
Hugh Miller was another instance ofthe at
tainment of high distinction from low begin
nings—as the lark, whose nest is on the ground,
soars the nearest to heaven.
Thirty-eight years ago, the Cromarty stone
mason came to Edinburgh, having found himself
famous one morning astlie author of a pamphlet
advocating the cause ofthe "Non-Inl rusion part y
! ofthe Church of Scotland"—a literary produc
tion which, to use the woids of Mr. Gladstone,
I manifested a mastery of pure, elegant, and mas
j cnlme English, such as even a trained Oxford
I scholar must have envied !
I But he had been before the world as an nu
jthor ere this. His "Scenes and Legends of the
! North of Scotland" gave the first evidence to
the world of those imaginative powers, that
(genius for d .-script ion, which afterwards, when
| more culture had been allowed, shone forth so
j conspicuously in that charming work, "First
i Impressions of England." or that still morechar
| miiig production, "My Schools and Schoolinas
i ters, or the Story of Mv Education."
I No one who possesses these works but will
he struck u ith the power of their descriptions.
Mow life-like how real ! One after reading
) them has but to close his eyes, and memorv will
bring back loving visions of sweet inland glens,
created for nothing but the hush of the water
i fall ; clusters of hamlets, each under its own
' patch ofstais ; remote village churchyards, stwd
j ded with homely mossembrowned tombstones;
; rocky cavesand promontorier,.where one hears
j ever "the sullen swinge" of the lonely sea !
Wherever Miller moved, there were always
two things that had for him an irresistible at
traction—the geology and Humanity ofthe dis
trict in wich lie lived. As was well said by
• one who knew him long, "With his pocket full
i of fossils, he would go miles to see a baltlefiele
of Wallace: nor in all his geological tours did
he ever pass by a Covenanter's giave."
But, although capable of attaining the highest
rank in the literary world, the strength of his
fame rests upon his services in one of the most
! important departments of natural science—ge
| ology. On the beach and among the rocks of
! his native district he had picked up fossils and
i other objects of natural history, and in his vari
! ous journeyings as an operative had so extended
j his operations, that he had become, before he
! was fully aware of it, a self-taught geologist.
He had broken in upon more than one field of
geology in which no one had preceded him,and
j made discoveries that astounded the scientific
world. He had been called to Edinburgh to
i take charge of a prominent journal, and in its
pages first made their appearance the papers
which he afterwards published collectively un
der the title of "The Old Red Sandstone." The
: geologists of the Old and New World were in
I raptures. At a meeting ol'the British Association,
| Mtirchen.-on arid Backhand spoke of these exposi
tions of the Scottish stone mason" as having
; cast plat!) geologists like themselves completely
;in the shade." These expositions were fjllow
j ec! bv other contributions to his favorite science,
, but bv none more able than his work styled
! "The Foot Pi int>-of the Creator," in which he
j Completely demolished his college-bred antago
nist, the author of that dangerous book, "The
j Vestiges qf tbe Natural History of Creation."
Hugh Miller and "Old Red Sandstone" are
I names indissolublv united in Edinburgh: and I
j was told while there, that even among the com
mon people he was known by the name of "Old
; Red."
j In his mere literary efforts one is struck by
j his extensive acquaintance with the English !it—
i eralure ofthe last century, in particular with its
j Swifts, its Addions, its Popes, Shenstones, and
Goldsmiths. That pure, clear sparkling style
of his came most certainly from the pure wells,
those 11 ndefiled waters of the English classics.
| for at these fountains did the stone-mason ol
, Cromartv certainly siake his thirst. The great
work of his life was finished tfip day before his
j death. It is a learned treatise upon the geology
jof Scotland. Upon this great labor his mind
was shipwrecked. The mighty foil, the patient
| and thorough research, the confining applica
i tion, were all too much for even his great phys
i icai frame and that
"Xobfp anil rno-t i-ovcreijrn reason,
| Like sweet bells jangled out of time ami harsh,"
' d.t last gave way tand hurried him to the grave
jofthe suicide. Forney's Press.
The Yew York .Mirror says it has reason
■to believe that simplicity and economy it) liv
ing and dress will be the prevailing style in
high life in the great metropolis during the
, coming season. It will be voted 'mauvais lon'
as well as bad taste ( f indulge in expensive
j habits. Good taste in dress, equipage and social
; appointments, isafterall, but the highest expres
sion of what the French call 4 < untenable'—ap
j propriafe arid harmonious to the occasion. It
jis not'convenahle' to dress richly when the
j whole commercial world is under a cloud, nor
;is it graceful for a lady to display her jewels
! when her husband or her brother, or even her
j lover is on the brink of failure, or has passed
| the Rubicon which separates worldly prosperity
from heart-racking calamity. We say nothing
lof good morals, for those who live up to the
. luxurious spirit of the times care more for the
j {Esthetics than the moralities of life, and will
| retrench their personal expenses rather as matter
, of social decorum than of virtuous self-denial.
" ; The ladies have done much to cause these diffi
culties, and by a change of mode in dress and
, style of living, they can than fathers,
| brothers and husbands, to. extricate the country
I from this unfortunate conditisjfx
The Printer's face is long afcd solemn,
For, he wants two lines to fill this column.
There are two persons who stand forth con
spicuously among the literary men of the pre
sent century, alike for their splen
did intellectual en jwmerils, their ideal crea
tions and their lov~ of a drug which se'nds th<*
imagination, "any.,here, everwhere, out of the
world" of—action. These are Samuel Taylor
Coleridge and'l tniinas de Quincv.
The author ol Mariner" was a
metaphysical, poeUal, conversational wonder.
Perhaps no man ev-r lived ,wiio run through
the whole gamut o: colloquial music with such
charming effect. Like the hero of, the great
"Rime"—a hero who spell-bound Ihe Wed
ding Guest, and to whom the genius bf the au
thor has imparted a living personality—Cole
ridge held his list-ner under the spell of his
glittering eye. w ile-a fire-torrent of his won
drous eloquence jauted from liis tongue.
It has been 01.-rved of Coleridge that his
"intellectual ant! >cial existence were as dis
tinct a two para lei streams tunning side by
side, but never j: ung." The one flowed pure,
strong and map ic, the other crept lazily a-
Iting rejoicing i its tnuddv impurity. He
whose intellect!!: life wa< strangely 'beautiful,
genius-illumined. hot the meaning ofthe
sanctity of his w d, nor the rapture of that so
cial circle whict as Tom Campbell would have
it, "plighted lov- endears."
In his golden outhliood, we find him ex
claiming, "My iqipiest moments fill composi
tion are broken ritoj by the reflection, that I
must make haste 1 am too late 1 I am al
ready months bein<f. I have received my pay
beforehand!" id thanking God for ihe g.t'ts
bestowed upon !n,feut confessing that he would
have been more thankful to Heaven had he
been born a shonafcer instead of a poet !
In that same olden youthhood, we find him
reckless of obi.atious, improvident, arid de
ceiving Cottle.tfie bookseller, with literary
promises whiefne failed to perform. . ,
In that same o !# youthhood,too, he pined
for the va-t wi rne*s and tfie grandeur of A
inerican scenei because vastness and grandeur
were akin to s nature. The spirit of the
man rose, like > Angel of the Ressurreclion,
white-winged, loyant and resplendent with
the glories oft t majestic inner life which al
lies genius to t creative energy and power of
the Maker of e Stars. While the spirit of
intellectual be t? breathed into his immortal
verse the breatfflflfe until it became a living
thing, the sad*qAjfser, earjhiy_nian .msatftttad \
a melancholy ntrt-t.
Tims great ss'jand littleness clashed and
contrasted ; so. ngpenius and parvenu mean
ness stood sid by [side. He reared a grand
temple to the uses, with airv pillars, frescoed
dome and spndid proportions, wherein he
, might woo theefafh Nine with the Majesty of
a god. Rut t! wdrld was stronger than the
Castillian sisH, and so Coleridge too often
kissed and pa i with the beautiful Muses, and
rushed into tlhell of English temptation.—
There were isyren lipped Aspasias in the
grat world o ction that dragged him away
from his Idea empie, but the inherent faulti
ness of the m 'he sad want of morai stamina
and an urispf sibl** appetite for opium, which,
while itd"i'.i his mind with magnificent and
gorgeous vii , destroyed truth, liouor aiuijus
t ice.
Yet the us I the drug which thus laid pros
trate the no! trait- of humanity—lor be it
known to all the t-ailii, earthy, that genius is
not of humar '- bu< of God, being that loftier
attribute of n that speaks of the Ideal u> the
K,. a l bron*' forth from the sou! of the splen
did dreamer e nreamiest of oriental dreams,
the quaint* af) d niost rythmically musi
cal of mod* productions. U'e beg par
don ofthe f read* r, who, loving Sue and
Reynolds h' r s an Coleridge and Shelley,
look with w starring eyes at a quotation from
a standard a OIV crave pardon —but we
mean Kubhrha* l - Thus dreamed the poet
while his A; "W" l ''ed itself, and the winged
thoughts on 0 h t * flew out. all "radiant with
joy." J
y a did Kubla Khan
tfly pleasure dome decree—
Wf, Alpb. The sacred river, ran
q-p ;h caverns measureless to man,
j n to a sunless sea.
TP adow ofthe dome of pleasure
p.:ed midway on the waves;
yyj. was' heard the mingled measure
; n thf fountain and Ihe caves,
j T a miracle of rare device —
A >" P l *' sure dome with eaves of ice!
y -el with a dulcimer
vision once f saw ;
J, an At y-sinian maid,
i,i bef dulcimer she played—
: nf HO lount Abora.
C I revjve within me
symp. ion v and song,
... ha deep (teliglit 'twould win me,
it. with music, loud and long,
~ i build that dome in air—
•j unny < ome—those eaves of ice
The S( a over the tilue waters of
Oman is
!yn ore musical than these lines,
and the e frjKment overflows with vocal
and | vtln *'j liquidity. The only iegret is,
that we ! a instead of a fioem, the
poet dr*" hivprig been awakened from an
opiatic s'l l> s' ■OfTo*" dull clodof the neighbor
hood on I '' s * A v!, i' 1 * "P 1 in ,he fonternpla- j
tion of h ,l,m * Tile remaining lines could
not be le r *d*nd the "sunny pleasure dome"
of Kubla * unfinished. Like Ihe wing
of an at hanging over the walls of I ar
adise w , ve °" ! . v a glimpse of the vision of
beauty w 1 ros f Bo S ra "d'y '■> the mind of Cole-
TalkV reminds us of the author
ofthe >#'•# an Opium Eater." Many
vears before the blue eyes of our
fair un„' ,, "i'v ,r 'ghte n <h' s paragraph with
their .*) i*fk-Samuel Warren, of Ten
° m
Freedom of Thongjbt and Opinion.
j Thotfand a Year celebrity, visited "Kit North,"
in Edinburgh, anxious to see how the literary
lion Tpeared among the lionets who were to be
nresfit. The Professor told Warren that a
celefrated lriend was in the portico, and he
wouti introduce him. In a few momentsa small
man, with dull, leaden eyes, en
tered It was Thomas de Quincey. "You will
see ffm drink some strong wine hv and by. '
obseit'ed Wilson; ami sure enough, when the
cups of the guests, sparkled to the brim with the
bubijes of Urn grap", l)e Quincey poured out a
win* glass of laudanum, and swallowed it with
an ar of indifference that would have astonished
a sucide.
•H'siiho had before been silent and reserved,
sbaqwfgan to brigfiten. The leaden eyes grew
lustpus, the sleeping mind roused itself, arid the
silert tongue ran its eloquent race with extraor
dinary success. The speaker seemed caught
away, like Elijah, into the idea! world.
And so, dear reader, we take leave of Cole
riclgf and De,Quincey—opium-eating and poetic
imaginings—with the wish that, while we all
should admire the genius of the men, we should
alsohave charily for their vices.
JJINe gloom, s-ll'-aliasement and terrible des
[xsfxiency of the opium-eater are punishment
enotgh.—.V. O. "Delta.
According to the old Spanish tradition, Co
lumlius' discovery of America is mainfcf due to
a hard-fuught game of cliess. Ferdinand of
Spam passed the later hours ofthe dav over the
caequred board; his principal autgonist being
an old grandee, whose skiii put the monarch's
powers to a severe test. Columbus had long
been dancing attendance at the Court iu pursu
ance *of the aim of his life—the grant of an ex
pedition in search of a n-w world—and although
,he had hitherto failed in his aim, yet he had ne
;listed the Sympathies and support of the good
Isabella. Ferdinand was one of those matter
of fact men, who object to furthering the schemes
of enthusiasts,and withheld his consent to a
New World expedition being formed.
Poor Columbus would long before have sought
assistance elsewhere, but Isabella prevented him
and redoubled her efforts with her husband
The day arrived the great navigator was
to receive his final answer; he wended his way the
the palate at night fall, more w ilh the
irtSf ntiou of bidding adieu to ins royal patroness
than from any hope of success with Ferdinand.
Isabella had not, how ever, resigned herself and
Columbus to defeat, and on the iatter's arriving
she immediately sought the King, who, being
absorbed in a hard fought game with the afore
mentioned old noble, was not in a likely mood
to be bothered by the application of an impor
tunate sailor. The Queen's interruption had
the effect of merely distracting the monarch's
attention, causing him to lose his principle
piece, which was followed by a volley of impre
cations on suitors in general and Columbus in
particular. The game grew worse and worse,
and defeat seemed inevitable.
Now Isabella, without ever playing, had
picked up considerable knowledge ofthe game
b ywatching her nobles, and when Ferdinand
told tier that her protege should he successful
or olherw ise, according as the game resulted,
-lie immediately bent all her energies upon the
board. The contest had he<-n unusually long,
and the courtiers clustered around the table,
amused at the excitement ol the King and the
(jui*-t satisfaction of fiis antagonist. And so the
game went on, which was to decide the dis
coverv of a new continent, until Isabella leaned
to hep husband's ear and whispered "you can
checkmate him in four moves." In the utmost
astonishment the King re-examined his *game,
found that Ids wife's assertion was correct, and
announced a few moments subsequently that
Columbus should depart on his voyage of dis
covery, with the title of "Admiral ofthe fleet."
ascertained that the parts ofthe glass to which
the diamond is applied are forced asunder, as
by a wedge, to a most minute distance, without
being removed, so that a superficial continuous
track is made from one end of the intended cot
to tiie other. After this, any small force ap
plied to one extremity is sufficient to extend this
crack through all the whole and a
cross the glass ; for, since the stiam at each in
stant in the progress of the crack is confined
merely to a mathematical point at ffae bottom of
the fissure, the eTort necessary for carrying it
through is proportionally small. Dr. YVollas
ton found, by trial, that the cut caused by the
mere passage of the diamond need not penetrate
so much as the two hundreth pait of an inch.
He found also that other mineral bodies, recent-'
lv ground into the same v form, are capable of
cutting glass, hut they cannot long retain that
power from want ofthe requisite hardness.
veston (Texas) News stat-s that the camels
and dromedaries, imported by the Govern
ment some years ago, into that State, for the
purpose of trying the experiment how they
would answer the purpose on our great Amer- !
ican deserts or in the extreme west of file !
State, have proven eminently successful, and
come up to the full expectations of all. At j
last accounts they were on their journey i
heavily laden, to the extreme frontier of'
New Mexico. All are now satisfied that the
importation of camels was no chimerical
flight, as was anticipated, but a wise, judi
cious and economical scheme, reflecting credit I
on the originators of the plan. There are
now employed nineteen dromedaries and !
thirty-two camels on the frontier. The cli
mate agrees with them admirably, and but
few accidents, by disease or otherwise oc
A Utica editor has made an assignment of all
his affections for the benefit of all his creditors.
The following eloquent passage occurs in
Everett's great oration: j
To be cold and breathless-lfo feel and speak
not—this is not the end of ejLtence to the men
who have breathed their spirit into 'he institu
tions of their country, who hake stamped their
characters on the pillars of thi age, who have
poured (heir heart's blood int khe channels of:
the public prosperity. Tell m-f who tread the
sods on yon sacred height, i-j Warren dead?
Can you not see him, all pal] and prostrate,
the blood of his gallant hpart piuring out of his
ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the I
field of honor, with the rose oil Heaven upon i
his cheek and the grey of liberty in his eye? j
Tell me, who make your piciuA pilgrimage to •
the shades ot Vernon, is Wasbihgton, indeed, i
shut up in that cold and narrow I house? That j
which made these men, and inenike these, can- (
riot die. The hand that traced tie "Charter of I
Independence is, indeed, motionless, the elo- |
quent lips that sustained it are bulbed, but the
lofty spirits that conceived, resolvlj and main
tained it, and which alone, to sucimen, "make
it life to live," these cannot expi.A
"These shall resist the empire ot deyav,
When time is o er are! worlds have jessed away,
Cold in the dust the perished heart tiiay lie,
But that which warmed it once can ;kver die."
innovations which the mammoth svkmer Great
Eastern is about to inaugurate will be the publi
cation of a daily paper on board for the benefit j
of the traveling public—the regular f'public"of
travelers—whom she may be bearing across the
ocean. But this startling feature is Anticipated
on the western waters ofthe New World, for
the New Orleans and St. Louis packrtl steamer ;
James E. Woodruff' now sails equipped with i
thefbiceand material for the publaktion of a j
regular daily paper on board during ier trips
up and down the river, with a job office ,attached
for the printing of bills of fare and other work.
ago Mr. Kidwell was preaching to a iarke audi
ence in a wild part oflllinois, and announced
for his text : "In my father's house ara many
mansions." He had scarcely read the (words,
when an old coon stood up and said ;
"I tell you, folks, that's a lie ! I knkw his i
father well. He lives fifteen miles Iron] Lex- !
ington, in Old Kentuck, in an old log Wabin, j
and there ain't but one room in the house.y j
At another time the same Universalis! pLach- '■
f r was holding forth in a meeting house inuVrre
Haute. He had gone about half througl his
discourse, when a man came in, quite theforse
for liquor, and reeled up in front ofthe pllpit,
where he seated himself and listened. The
preacher was earnest in proving there is
and urged the Universalist doctrine with Aeat
eloquence till the poor drunkard cried on] to !
him :
"That's it Kidwell, my old friend ! Mike
them words true, or if you don't I'm a gonerl!"
That brought the sermon to a close. It was
an application quite unexpected, but all the more
forcible on that account.
THE WILL AND THE WAY.—I learnt gram
mar when I was a private soldier, on the pay
of sixpence a day. The edge of my berth, or
that of my guard bed, was my seat to study in;
my knapsack, bookcase and a bit of board lying
011 my lap was my writing table. I had no
money to purchase a candle or oil: in winter
it was rarelv that I could get any light but the
fire, and only my turn even of that. To buy
a pen or piece of paper, I was compelled to
forego some portion of my food, though in a
state of half starvation. I had to read and
write amid the talking, laughing, singing,
whistling and brawling of at least half a score
of the most reckless men—and that, too, in
their hours of freedom from all control. And
I say if I, under these circumstances, could
encounter and overcome the task—is theie, can
there be, in the whole world, a youth who
can find an excuse lor its non-performance?—
ONE OF THE REASONS. —During the May an
niversaries in New Yok, the following dialogue
was overheard between two of the newsboys:—
"I say, Jimmy, what is-the meaning of so many
preachers being here all together?" "Why,"
answered Jim, "They always meets here once a
year to exchange seimons with each other."
MEDICAL. —"Dr. Kalahum, d'ye think my
darter will get well?" "Well; ifshe don't git
no wuss, and does git sum better, she may pos
sible git over it. You see she's afflicted with a
consternation of the diagnosis of the metacar
pial flummix, which extends from the neboscis
to the interior lobe of the anterior revolution of
the occiput. Nothin'kin help her butjcalomel
and persimmons taken jintly both together —a
spoonful, more or less, occording to the symp
toms, every other day, off" and on. Them will
eventoolay put her out of pain into a sweat,
and restore a healthy action ofthe minor pe
dals, and restore the encyclopedia of the neu
ralgic diaphragm, immediately under the left
side of the right eye." "Lor'a marcy! such
larnin! who'd athunk it!"
The Hon. Gerritt Smith is now lying very
ill with neuralgia and typhus fever, at the house
of his nephew, John Cochrane, M. C., No. 33
East Twelfth street, in New York.
The Milwaukie Sentinel estimates the
wheat crop of Wisconsin at 18,000,000 of
bushels for 1857, an increase of near 6,000,-
In the commission of evil, fear no man so
much as thine own self. Another is but one
witness against thee: thou art a thousand.—
Another thou mayest avoid, but thyself thou
canst not ; wickedness is its own punish
Q in oro ns.
not Ion? since much amused by a couple of
Hoosier girls who came on board the steamer
at the little town of Mount Vernon, Ind, They
had evidently never FE-en a thousand miles from
home, and were making their first trip on A
steamboat. • The elder OFIE was exceedingly
talkative, and perfectly free and unconcerned,
without regard to the many eyes that were scan
ning her movements. The other was of the op
posite lurn of mind, inclined to bashfulness.
At dinner our ladies were honored with a seat
at the head of the table, and the elder one,
wiih her usual independence, cut her bread into
small pieces, and with her fork reached over
and rolled each mouthful iu the nice dressing
on a plate of beef-stake before her. The
seugers preserved their gravity during the op
eration by dint of great effort. Perceiving that
her sister was not very forward in helping her
self, SHE turned round to her -and exclaimed
loud enough to he heard by half the table
"Sal, dip into the gravy—dad pays as much as
any on 'em This was followed by a general
roar, in which the captain led off. The girls
arrived at their place of destination before sup
per, and when they LEFT the boat, all hands gave
three cheers for the girls of the Hoosier State.
old farmer out west, who was in the
nighly habit of counting his live stock to see if
any had gone astray, said to his son one evening
previous to retiring:
John, have you counted the hogs *
1 es.
And the turkeys ?
And the cows ?
Y es.
And the sheep ?
\ es.
Well, John, now go and wake up the old
hen and count her, and then we'll go to bed.
OF"A good story is told of a Yankee who
went for the first time into a bowling-alley and
kept firing away at the pins, to the imminent
perils of the boy, who, so lar from having any
thing todo in "setting-up" the pins, was active
ly engaged in endeavoring to avoid the balls as
the player, rattled them on all sides of the pins
without touching them. At length, a fellow
seeing the predicament the boy was in, yelled
out, as he let drive another ball, "Stand in
among the pins, bub, if you don't want to get
THE PISTOL.—An Irishman driven to des
peration, by the stringency of the money
market, and the high price of provisions, 'pro
cured a pistol and took the road.
Meetng a traveller he stopped him, with
"your money or your life!"
Seeing that Pat was green, he said:
"I tell you what I'll do. I'll give you alt
my money for that pistol."
Pat received the money and handed over
the pistol.
"Now," said the traveller, hand back that
money or I'll blow your brains out."
"Blizzard away me hearty," said Pat," divil
the dhropof powther there's in it, sure."
times produce one good thing;
they check gossiping; Mrs. Clacker has only
had company once since last summer. The
consequence is that the neighbors' characters
stand higher than they have done for last five
[EP'Punch says that Adam had one great
advantage over all other married couples— an
advantage which has been lost to us with
Paradise — he had no mother-in-law.
OF^Two old friends met, not long snee after
a separation of thirty-five years. "Well,
j lorn," says one "how has the world gone with
vou, old bov? Married yet?" ,'Yes, and I've a
family vou can't match —seven boys and one
girl." "I can match it exactly," was the
reply, "for I have seven girls and one boy,"
OCP'Somebody, describing the absurd appear
ance of a man dancing the polka, says : "He
looks as though he had" a hole in his pocket, and
was trying to shake a shilling down the leg of
his trousers."
are the chief ends of man?"
asked a school teacher of his pupils. "Head
; and feet," was the prompt replv. The teacher
| fainted.
HF*A young ladv rebuked bv her moth
er for kissing her intended, justified the act by
I quoting the passage —"Whatsoever ye would
I that mar. should do to vou, do ye even so unto
■ ■
!£P""Sammy, why don't you talk to your
massa, tell him to lay up his treasure in heav-
I en ?"
"What's the use of laying up his treasure dar,
! wkare he neber see um again ?"
QF'Speaking of lions —that was an idea of
! THP hard-shell preacher, who was discoursing
'of Daniel fn the den of lions. Said he :
"There he sat all night, looking at the show
for nothing ; it didn't cost him a cent!"
[IF"A certain cockney bluebeard, overcome
by sensibility, fainted at the grave of his fourth
spouse. "What can we do with him ?" asked a
perplexed friend of his.
"Let him alone," said a waggish by-stander ;
"he'll soon re-wive."
YANKEE POETRY.—A down east poet thus
immortalizes the beautiful river Connecticut:
"Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast tbou
ran, giving shad to old Hartford and freedom to
man !"

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