Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME 1. oted to Total Abstinence, Morals, Education, Literature, Useful Arts, Domestic Economy, and General Intelligence. NUMBER 1. y Tee-total, and Exclusive of all Matters of a Political or Sectarian Character, and of all Advertisements of Intoxicatlng-drlnk-selling Establishment*. BY GEORGE COCHRAN & CO.] WASHINGTON, D. C3 JINE 7, 1845. [FIFTEEN CENTS PER MONTH. published every SATURDAY. BY GEOKGK COCHRAN & CO., WASHINGTON city. D C. PUBLICATION OFFICE ON SIXTH STREET, SOUTH OF PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. ONE SQUARE, ono insertion, FIFTY cents,or FOUR insertions for ONE DOLLAR. ONE SQUARE, 3 months 8* 50 ti t? ?. 4 00 u ?! 12 " 7 00 Longer advertisements in proportion. FOURTEEN lines,or under culled a square. DOr BUSINESS CARDS, of SIX LINES, will be conspicuously inserted for FOUR DOLLARS per year, in advance. SCT Apothecaries, Stationers, and others, wishing a column or half column, will be ac ommodated at the lowest rates. POETICAL FOUNT. " Here Nature's minstrels quaff inspiring draughts.' For the Washingtonian. AN ACROSTIC. Thy glory shines forlh, thy star is ascending, Enlightening minds that were sunken in gloom ; Myriads of hearts now in gratitude blending Proclaim that thy rays their best feelings il.ume. Enslnv'd ones have come, and with fetters now broken Rejoice in liberty, *ir ue, and peace ; And the Angel of Mercy in kindness has spoken? Nor mortal can tell where thy triumph shall cease. Come?come to the standard, 'tis stainless and pure. Earth echo's a triumph for aye to endure. Navy Yard. J. W. From the Autobiography of J. B. Gough. TWO YEARS AGO. Written for J. B. Gough by the Rev. John Pierpont. Tune?' O no, we never mention Aim.' Two years ago, a mighty chain Had bound me to the bowl, Its links lay burning on my brain And crushing down my soul; My mother, far from scenes of strife Was, in her grave, laid low, And not a star shone on my life But two short years ago. Two year? ago, the loafing throng, That hung around the inn, Would say?" Come, sing us now a song, And you shall have some gin." And I the drunkard's catch would troll, The lowest of the low, And then in drink would drown my sou!. But two short years ago. Two years ago, upon the edge Of Ruin's gulf I lay : I woke?I rose?I signed the pledge Two years ago to-day: That pledge hath saved my drowning soul, From sorrow, pain, and woe; 'Twaa that, that helped me dash the bowl Away, two years ago. And now a gloriotft sun hath risen To cheer and bless my soul: I feel my freedom from my prison? My bondage to the bowl: A thousand friends, with anxious care; Their arms around me throw, To keep me from the gulf of Fear I sought, two years ago. Two years ago, thy name, O God, 1 named but to blaspheme ; The holy courts I never trod ; ? Forgive me, Power Supreme ! And help me do some little good, In lifting up the low, Who now are standing, where I stood But two short years ago. SAFBTT-BONBS. " Th?* pledge tee total has its millions sav'd.'' WMiiZl PfLEiii. We nromise to abstain from all intoxicating drinks, and to discountenance tho cause and practice of Intemperance. PLEDGE OF THE JUVENILE COLD WATER ARMY OF THE DISTRICT. This youthful band Do with ou- hand. The pledge now sign To drink no ^ inc, Nor Brandy red To turn the head. Nor vVhiak^y hot That makes the sot. Nor fiery Rum To turn our home Into a Hell, Where none could dwell? Whence peac*? would fly, Where hope would die, And love expire 'Mid such a fire; So here we pledge uncasing hate, To all that can intoxicate. PLEDGE OF THE SONS OF TEMPERANCE. I, withou* reserve, solemnly pledge my honor as a man that I will neither nuke, buy, sell, nor use as a bevernge, any Spirituous or Malt Liquors, Wine, or Cider. PLEDGE OF THE UNITED BROTHERS OF TEMPERANCE. No brother shall make, buy, setl, or use, as a beverage, any Spirituous or Mult Liquors, Wine or Cider. USEFUL PARAGRAPHS. CoLn Cream for the Complexion. Take an ounce of oil of eweet almonds, and half a drachm of each, ?>f white wax and -permaceti, with a little balm. Melt these ingredients in a glazed pipkin, over hot asho9. and pour the solution into a marble inortar; stir it with the pep tie until it become* "month and cold, then add gradually an ounce ot rose or orange flower water; stir alt the mixture til' incorporated to resemble cream. This pomatum renders the skin at one supple and smooth. ? To Extract Grease Spots from Silks and Colored Muslins. Scrape French chalk, put it on the grease spot, and hold it near the fire, or over a warm iron, or water-plate, filled with boiling water. The grease will melt, and the French chalk absorb it; brush or rub it off. Repeat If necessary. P o PIT LARS BIBOTIONS. " From grave to gay, from lively to severe. From Grahum's Magazine. THE PROPOSAL. n\' CHABLES J. PETERSON. The Ladv Blanche was a beauty and a belle. But'more than this?she was an heiress. Need we wonder, therefore, that old barons as arim an their ancestor*' effigies?gay knierhts, who sported retainers in cloth of {fold?and princes of thirty quartering^ from Germany, thronged her castle, and sighed by turns at the feet of the obdurate fair? For the Lady Blanche, though she flatly refused none, was indifferent to alF. Sho treated every suitor, indeed, alike. She had a smile for one, a gay word for another, a task for a third, and for each and all the same tantalizing succession of hopes and fears wrh [which beauties have managed to torment their lovers from time immemorial. To tell the truth, the Ladv Blanche was a bit of a flirt.? I And Claude Marston found this out to his cost! | As gallant a warrior, as courteous a Knight, I and withal as poor a gentleman?God help hjm i ..v'<s not to be found in the realm. His ! ancestors, on one sid", had come ovpr with the Conqueror, and, on the other, were lost in the clouds of Saxon and British fable- " cry had rung and their bant ers fhunted in every battle-field from Hastings to Agincourt. But time hal stript them of their possessions as a sea slowly wastes away some majestic rock, so that Claude Marston, the last of his line, could only claim a solitary tower, with a few roods of land, for his inheritance. . A distant relationship existed between liis family and that of the Lady Blanche, and when he hud won his spurs, ii> fulfilment of a long standing promise, he visited Delancy Castle. Little had Claude thought of love: indeed, he boasted that glory should ever be his sole mis tress. Yet he had rare endowments for a lady's bower: he had clerkly skill as well as renown at arms ; could tune a gittern as well as couch a lance, and was a minstrel withal. The Lady Blanche, who was accomplished beyond her sex, could not fail to be delighted with the arri val of such a Crichtotx; and it was not long, in consequence, before she engrossed the chief portion of the young knight's time. Perhaps she hoped Jo revenge herself on him for his | declared indifference to her sex. They read together, rode together, and seemed, indeed, as hor jealous suitors said, to be always together! The ravishing beauty of the Lady Blanche, her playful humor, the grace of her person, and the winning sweetness of her manner, eonn made a captive or Claude, most of whose ttf*-< had been spent in camps, and to whom female ( society was as new as it was winning. Day and night he thought only of the fair heiress. At first he fancied hie affection not otherwise than a cousin's should be ; and when he awoke from his delusion, it was to despair. The Lady Blanche was rich and courted ; he, Voor and unnoticed. She could never be his." Too proud to betray a hopeless passion, lie resolved to de part from the castle as soon as possible, and while he remained to set a guard on his looks and tongue, to assume a gayety he did not feel, and even to jest'on the folly of love, lest he should be suspected of his secret paseion. Once, indeed, he was nearly surprised into betraying himself; for, at times, there was that in the looks or words of the Lady Blanche which al most bade him hope. On one of these occa sions he made bold to give her a bunch of rose buds, tied with a ribbon that ho found on her table; and he thought he detected a conscious ness in her manner. He took up her splendidly illuminated Petrach and opened at one of the sonnets to Laura. It spoke of undying love. "Heigho!" she 6aid, with a pretty toss of the head. " You do not believe in lovel Love's but lunacy under another name; a juggle to cheat maidens out of their freedom It's an enchanter's lute that lulls us to sleep; but We awake up to find ourselves decked with the cap and bells of the fool. I'll have none of it!" u You cannot think so," said Claude, earnest ly. "Surely, Petrarch loved Laura.1" 44Loved her! He loved himself! he loved tame! and wanting a theme to hang his verses on, he took poor Laura for lack of a better. Good honest man ! I warrant he thought more of his library than of her charms, and dreaded a fit of rheumatism far worse than her frowns." " But?" "But ino no buts," said she, stamping her foot with pouting obstinacy. 44 Men marry to iret estates, and women to have husbands. It' well enough for the crowd. But I would be a tree falcon" or?" she hesitated, and then added, looking at Claude with a merry laugh?"or be chained in royal mews." Claude sighed and rose. He saw she had twisted his poor roses nearly to pieces. From that hour he grew reserved, and even haughty, at times ??? the Lady Blanche. He could no* help it. He strove to appear indifferen', bui his spirits would sometimes doeert him, and he was either recklessly gay or silent and brood iny. He avoided the dangerous morning tetc a teles, at Ursi finding some feigned ex< use lor doing so, bui final y abandoning tiiem withwut any apology. As for the Lady Blanche, she seemed to care little about this pettishness. Of his intended departure she heard with a gay j? st: he was going, site said, it was currently believed, to play the giant Gargantua. Claud< was piqund, and grew colder than ever They never met now but in tho presence of otlie-s ; and then the Lady Blanche seemed to seek for occasions to terse her lover. It he was gay she rallied him?it lie was sad she pitied him? and if he wa* both in the same hour, as often Happened, she vowed that men were lickle, but thai Cousin Claude was m.ist fickle of all. If the willful heiress favored any suitor, it was the proud Lord of Waltham. He was still in the prime of life, and at the head of the baronage; and had long loved the Lady Blanche. Every one said that the gay beauty, all along, had made up her mind, when she grew weary of flirting, to wed the Lord of Waltham. Cer tainly her manner toward him grew more con descending daily: he now filled the post at her bridle rein which Claude once occupied, and often during the evening lK? pair were left together, an if by that tacit consent on the part of the company with which lovers pre avoided. Claude was jealous, though be fancied no one knew it; and his wit found vent at the expense of Waltham, who was rather dull; but, on these occasions, the Lady Blanche would fly to her suitor's aid, and generally diecomfitted the Itesailant. It was the night beforo Claudei departure. No one could be more unhappy than he had been for the preceding fortnight; against hope he had yet ventured ?o hope, and i single re. lenting word from hi* mistress would give rise to the moat extravagant ^rearm; {[ 4#it. the chil ling indifference or merry raillery of the Lady Blanche had at last cured him. On tlua occa. 8ion he was lhe gayest of the gay. Tjhiey were talking of a contemplated journey of the fair hostess. " I think of going around by the border. It it, long since I ?aw it. What say you to it. Cousin Claude? You are as roerrv as a sing irte bird to-night, and would be ready, I suppose, to advise me to rush into a 'ion's den." "Yon surely jest," said he, with earnestness. "The border is very unquiet, and you would run great risk of being made captive." " Why, the man's suddenly become timorous as a monk," said the Lady Blanche, bet site blushed slightly notwiihstanding "Think you, noble gentlemen, that a lady of England may not travel in her native realm without fear of capture? What say you J" "/think," said the Earl of Waltham, with a haughty glance at Claude, " That the Ladv Blanche may travel anywhere, if she has valiant knights for her escort: and for one I offer my poor sword to defend her." " What think you of that, Cousin Claude?" said the lady, triumphantly. "My Lord of Waltham is a brave gentleman," said he. with a low bow, "but I think has never crossed lances with the Scots. I won my spurs against them, and know the people; and I still adhere to my opinion that it would be danger ous for you to undertake that route at present.^ The Lady Blanche hesitated, for rhffe earn^i ness was not lost on her. Indeed, she h.ad, at first, proposed the contemplated route ,ph)y in jest, but feminine whim, or some hiddeif'motive, had made her persevere in it on hearing Claude's disapprobation. She was now again in doubt, i Claude saw his advantage. '< "Lady," he said, eagerly, "I know you will not go! Indeed T ask it as a farewell favor." He was surprised into speaking thus: the instant he had done so he saw his error. The Lady Blanche colored, and then said, with a slight curl of the lip? " Oh! we forgot thnV Sir Maratcr was UBtnt tu dictating Tor lady's favors. But, perhaps," she added, looking laughingly around on the rest of the group, "he thinks we may lay our injunction on him, as- our good cousin, to go with us, and having no taste for those Scottish broad-swords, would persuade us to travel southward. But never fear?-we are a knight's daughter. and dread no foe. So wc absolve you from all duty to us, and while you go to play at silken tournaments, our Lord ol Waltham. with our squire Sir John Neville, will bear us through the Douglas lances." The cheek of Claude burned like fire at this galling speech; but the speaker was a lady, and he could take no notice of it. He bowed. "So be it," he said, with difficulty mastering his rage; and then turned on his heel and walked from the room. The Lady Blanche had, perhaps gone further than she intended, for she changed color, but added quickly and gayly? "Did you ever see such a ferocious animal ? And he was once, too, as dainty and well-be haved?you all can testify?as my pet grey hound. What can be the matter with Cousin Claude?" The young knight was boiling with indigna tion as he reached his room It had been the first time he had been thus publicly slighted for the stupid Waltham; but what else, he now asked himself, could he have expected? " Fool, fool that I was," he said, as he strode to and fro in his apartment. "She thinks, or affects to think, I am a coward. By St. George, I only wish that dolt, Waltham, had dared to add a syllable?I would have made him eat his words." He chafed thus for nearly half an hour; then his passion, in part, subsided. I "It was a dream," he said, "adream cher ished in spite of a thousand rebuffs ; but it is over. Yet, Lady Blanche, I cannot see you fall a victim to your own infatuation. I too will go around l>y the border, secretly guarding von till you safely reach Durham. Per bap-, some day you may hear of it, and do me jus tice." The next morning, long befoiesunrise, Claude and his few followers were in the saddle, and without further leave-taking had turned their back,* on Delancy CastIc. It wa?- near high noon on the third day af'er (eavng Di'lancy Castle, that Claude with his tile iroi.p slowly wended his way up a long hill, near the border, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding country. For three days h" had kept unobserved between the Lady Blanche and the Scottish frontier, maintaining a constant look out; but during the last, twenty four hours his scouts had lost sight of her cav alcade, t hough Claude still believed it to be on the Kuglish side of the route he was pursuing. Suddenly, however, on attaining the brow of 'he hill, he saw belore him in the valley a thick cloud of dust, from which gleamed occasionally ' the glitter of helmet and arum, while the clash j ol weapons in a fray and the shouts of combat. J ants rope to his ear softened by the distance, j A momentary breeze that swept anid^ the dust | revealed the banner of Lord Waltham ; and the thickeet of the fight appeared to be amid a group of women guarded by men-at-arms. But it was evident that the British had the worst of .the conflict and must soon have given way. Even as he paused, the triumphant shouts of the Scots swelled on the air, for the banner of Lord Waltham was in tho dust. Ciaude ran his eye hastily over his little i force, numbering not one-third that of tbe sailants; but he knew they would stand by hitn to a man. "Have at them, my bold fellows," he said. " E"gland to the rescue. A Marston?a Mars tOn 1" and thus Bhouting his war-cry, at the head of his gallant band, and with his lance in rest, he galloped down upon the foe. Overpowered by numbers, and worn out by a desperate resistance, the few knights and men-;tL-arms who remained with the Lady Blanche?for long before Lord Waltham, deem ing the battle lost, had put spurs to his steed and fled from the field?were on the point of giving up the contest, when they were cheered hy a well-known war-cry that rose even over the din of ?he conflict, and brought comfort and hope to their fainting bosoms. At. the ?s une instant looking tip, they saw the young knight thundering hown the hill, his long while plume streaming behind him, and his followers furiously galloping in his rear, "St George for merry England ! Stand fast nwhile longer, brave gentlemen," said the knight on whom the command had devolved, "and the day will yet be ours. A Neville!'' he shouted, dashing his spurs into his steed and charging into the heart of the fr>e, wherr-, with his huge sword, he laid about him right manfully. "A Douglas. For God and St Andrew? A Douglas?a Douglas!" was the response of the foe. But now, like a torrent sweeping down the hill, like a whirlwind careering over the plain, the little band of Claude, with fixed Unces, burst full upon the foe, who, turning like a wild boar at bay, fiercely confronted this new enemy. The shock was like the meeting of two opposite waves in the mouth of i tide-way. For a moinen^?oth assailants and assailed shook in their saddle?, but the impetuous charge of Claude's weighty men-at-arms, soon bore down the lighter horsemen of the Scots, whose pros trate forme were instantly ridden over by the victors as they pursued their career. Right on like an arrow, scattering ruin on thi? side and that?with his eye never losing sight for a ? moment of the white dreaB of the Lady Blanche Claude Marston kept his course; and not until he stood at her side did he look back to see the enemy flying in every direction acrosB the plain. "The day is yours. Sir Claude," said Sir John Neville, her squire, "we had been lost but for your timely succor." " Nay i Give the glory to God and the saints, who brought me up so opportunely. But see? your lady has fainted!" It was even so; the Lady Blanche, after bearing all the horrors of the conflict, had, in the instant of victory, suddenly fainted away. " There is an abbey but a mile hence, over . thp hill. Slje can find shekel* there," said Sir John.' "T.uckiJy we halve a filter with us. You, Sir Claude, guard her thither, while I see to the wounded." "Nay, nay, let this be my task," said Claude; and notwithstanding every remonstrance, Sir John was forced to attend his mistress to the abbey. The truth is, Claude did not desire to impose on Lady Blanche the painful task of returning ' him thanks, when he knew hfcr heart must bej a prey to the mortification consequent on Lord Waltham's flight. He, therefore, after he had seen the wounded carefully borne to the abbey gate, was about to pursue his journey without stopping, when a message was delivered from the Lady Blanche asking an interview. There was now no escape, and he alighted. But Claude would have given worlds to have avoided the interview. Ho feared for his com posure?feared that by some look or word he might betray his love ; feared that the Lady Blanche would feel bound to speak honeyed words of thanks when she knew and scorned his suit. The route to her apartments led through the garden, and as Claude was slowly pursuing his way, with his eyes bent on the ground, he heard a deep sigh near him. Looking up he found himself near the cloisters; and on a seat, only separated from him by some rose-bushes, was the Lady Blanche. She held something to her lips. Was he in a dream, or could it be the bunch of now faded flowers which he had once given her] He could hot be mistaken. There was the well-known ribbon with which they were still tied. Sho murmured his name, too, as she kissed them. Without a second thought, carried away by the rapture of the discovery, Claude put aside the bushes and knelt before her, just as she rose from her seat, alarmed, surprised, and overcome with maidenly shame. " I have long loved you," he said passion ately. "Dear Lady Blanche, you do not des pise my suit!" She could not speak, but moved her hand for him to rise, and fell weeping into h>s arms. We spare the blushes of the Lady Blanche; but, as her face lav hidden on the broad bosmti of her lover, she confessed how Ions; she h<*d secretly loved him, and owed her-elf properi\ punished for her momentary flirtation ; for I he L?dy Blanche had returned his affection evpn on that memorable morning when he gave her the rose-buds ; woman's whim had proinp'ed her words on that occasion; but, ever since, the little bouquet had been worn next her heart. Pride had kept her, however, from ! coming to an explanation until Claude's alter ed demeanor made her fear that his affections had changed. They were married, Claude Marston and the Lady Blanche; but the Craven Earl of Waltham "v*s not even bidden to the wedding. From HooJ's Comic iMagazine. A DOSE. " Ellen, you have been out.' " Well, I know 1 have.4' ? To the King's Head ?" " No, John, no. But no mat'er. You'll be troubled no more with my drinking." " What do you mean !" " I mean what I say, John," replied (he wife, looking very serious, and speaking very so lemnly and deliberately, with a strong empha sis on every word. M You??will?be?trou b led?no?more?with?my? drink i ng?-I HAVJC TOOK IT AT LAST." "I knew it!" exclaimed the wretched hus band, desperately tossing his arms aloft, as when all is lost. "I knew itl"?and leaving one coat flap in the hands of hid wife, who vainly attempted to detain him he rushed from the room?sprang down the stair*, both flights, by two and three stairs at a time?ran along the passage, and without his hat, or glove*, or stick, dashed out at the street door, sweeping from the step two ragged little girls, a quartern loaf, a basin of treacle, and a baby. But he never stepped to ask if the children were hurt, or even to see whether the infant dripped witjr gore or molasses. On he ran, like a rabid dog, straight forward, down the borough, heedless alike of a porter's load, baker's baekc , and butcher's tray. " I say," muttered the errand boy, is he stag gered from the collision. "Do thai again," growled the placard man, as he recovered the pole and board which had be^n knocked from his shoulder ?4 Mind wh?>re you're goin'," bawled a haw ker, as he picked up hi" scattered wares; whilst a dandy, suddenly thrust into the kennel, launch ed after the runner one of those verbal missile*, which are said to return, like the boomerang, to those who launch them But on, on, scampered the Teetotaller, heed less of all impediments?on he scoured, like a he Camilla, to the shop number 240, with the red, h'ue, and gr??eii bottles in the window?the chemist and druggist's?into which he darted, and up to the little bold man at the desk, with barely breath enough left to gasp out " My Wife !?Poison !?and Pump !" " Vegetable or mineral 1" inquired the Sur geon-Apothecary, with great professional cool ness. "Both?all sort??laudanum?arsenic, oxalic acid?corrosive sublimate"?and the Teetotal ler was about to add pine-apple rum, amongst the poisons, when the doctor stopped him. "Is she sick?" " No." But remembering the symptoms over night, the Teetotaller ventured to say, on the strength of his dream, that she was turning all manner of colors, like a rainbow, and swelling as big as a house. " Then there is not a moment to lose," said the Esculapius, and accordingly clapping on his hat, and arming himself with the necessary apparatus?a sort of elaphantine syringe with a very long trunk?he set off at a trot^nided by the Teetotaller, to unpoison the rash and ill fated bacchanalian, Mrs. Burrage. " And did he save her ?" " My dear madam, be content to let that issue remain a tittle, and accumulate interest, like a sum in the savings' bank." Now, when the Teetotaller, with the medi cal man at his heels, arrived at his own house, Mrs. Birr rage was still in her bed-room, 'which was a great convenience, fop before she could account for the intrusion of a stranger, nay, even without knowing how .it was done, she found herself seated?more zealously than ten derly or ceremoniously?in the easy chair; and when she attempted to expostulate, she felt herself choking with a tube of something, which was certainly ueither rnaccaroni, nor stick-liquorice, nor yet pipe-peppermint. To account for this precipitancy, the exagge rated representations of her husband must be borne in mind; and if his wife did not exhibit all the dying dolphin-like colors that he had described?if she was rot quite so blue, green, yellow, or black, as he had painted her, the apothecary made sure she would soon be, and consequently went to work without delay, where delays were so dangerous. Mrs. Borage, however, was not a woman to submit, quietly, to a disagreeable operation, against her own consent, so, with a vigorous kick and a push at the same time, she contrived to rid herself at once of the doctor and bis in strument, and indignantly demanded to know the meaning of the assault upon her. "It's to save your life?your precious life, Ellen," said the Teetotaller, looking at her very solemnly. " It's to empty the stomach, ma'am," said the doctor. "Empty a fiddle," retorted Mrs. Burrage, who would have added "stick," but the doctor watching his opportunity, had dexterously pop ped the tube again into her open mouth, not without a fresh scuffle from the patient. "For the Lord'* sake, Ellen," continued the Teetotaller, confining her bands, "do, do, pray do sit quiet." "Pob?wob?wobble*" said Ellen, "Hub? bub?bub?bubble," attempting to speak with another pipe in her throat, besides the windpipe. " Have the goodness, ma'am, to be compo sed," implored the doctor. "I won't," ahouted Mrs Burrage, having again released herself trom the instrument by a desperate struggle. "What am I to be pump ed out for I* "Oh, Ellen, Ellen," said the Teetotaller, ??you know what you have taken." "Corrosive salts and narcotics," answered the doctor. " Afsnic and corrosive sublimity,'' said the Teetotaller. "Oxalic acid and tincture of opium," added the doctor. " Fly water and laurel water," tsaid Mr Bur rage. '* Vitriol, prussic acid, and aquafortis," con tinued the dr j^gist. " I've took no such thing," said the refrac tory patient. "Oh, Ellen, you know what you ?aid." "Well what7' " Why, that your drinking should never trou ble me any more." "And no more it shall," screamed the wilful woman, falling, as she spoke, into convulsive paroxysms of the wildest laughter. " No more it shall, for I've took? " What, ma'am, pray what ?" "In the name of Heaven! what]" " Why, then?I've took the PLEDGE!" Upwards of 1,000 sailors have signed the pledge of the Marine Washington Total Absti nence Society of Charleston, 8. C., during the past year?in several instances whole crews, from the captain down.