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Litchfield enquirer. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1829-current, July 16, 1863, Image 1

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LITOIJL BILD- -(·;I»0NN—. THURSDAY. JULY ;6,. 1863.
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The Litchüeld Enqnitkr ·«
Published every Thursday morning,by
JAMES HUMPHREY, JR.,
on the third floor of the Enquirer Building,
LITCHFIELD, CONN.
TERMS
SUBSCRIPTION PBR ASKUJf.
Tillage subscribers (by carrier) and single mail
subscribers, In Advance, $1,76
Subscribers off carrier’s route, and mail
subscribers, in bundlos, In Advance, 1 JO
fllngle copies, 4 cents.
Jgr Postage Free within this County.
advbutjsino ;
Fourteen lines or less—1, or 8 weeks, $1,00
Each week thereafter, 20
Probate and other legal notices,at usual rates.
' Yearly advertisements at the following Tates :
One column $75 ; one-half column $37 ; one
third colqmn $25 ; one-fourth column $18.'
Business Notices not exceeding half a square,
$8 per annum.
Obituary Notices and Poetry, three cents a line
BOO^ AND JOB PRINTING,
Pit all descriptions, neatly and promptly done.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY
George M. Vi ooclruff,
A TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
and Commissioner of Deeds for the State
ff New York. Litchfield, Conn.
£. W. Seymour,
4 TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
£|L Litchfield. Conn.
George A. HIckox,
A TTORNEY AT LAW. OFFICE IN EAST
Street, directly opposite the Congrega
tional Church, Litchfield, Conn.
G. H. Hollister,
4 TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
^4 Litehfield, Conn. Office in the Seymour,
Building (up stairs,) South Street. 62
^CHARLES KIRCHBERGER,
Boot and Shoe Maker.
BOOTS & SHOES made in the best mannefl
and at the shortest notice.
Men’s, Women’s and Children’s Boots,Shoes
Slippers, Gaiters and Brogans.
ffii“aive him a call, and try them on.
Litohlield, July 20th, 1861.tf-j8
Mansion House,
8PENCER,PROPBIETOB,LITCHFIELD
3 • Conn. 82.
Wm.H. Brain an,
DEALER IN FOREIGN and STAPLE Dry
Geods, Qroeeries, Crockery,Glass Ware
and Yankee Nations, No. 6 West Street, 1st
d*er west of the Court House,Litchfield,Conn.
Bishop & Sedgwick,
OHALERSin DRY GOODS,READY MADE
Clothing, Boots and Shoes, Hardware,
grookery, Groceries,Sto.j&OjWest Street,Litch
field, Gena.
0. B. BISHOP. !• > 8BDGWICK. I
48-l.y
David C. Buckley,
Dealer in household furniture
of all kinds and prices, Chairs, Tables,
Rn onus,Bedsteads and Coffins. Also Picture
Frames. Toilet Stands and Sofas made and
sold with neatness, elegance and dispatch.
Warehouse. West St.. Litchfield.Conn. Iv39
' HHNTAL NOTICE,
«lI ww TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS ($26)
flSjCash, will, for the next six mouts.
• W-tTCCP pay for a full Set of Upper Teeth,
ou 18 Carat Gold, and warranted to fit, and
made better than any made for the same price
jn Hartford, as I donrt as yet, for the want of
business, whip the Cat to get work.
I will be found at the old Stand whese I have
been for the past five years, over the Post Of
fice, South-Street, Litchfield.
Thaakful for the liberal patronage I have
received for years past, I hope, by closest ap
plication to my own business, to merit and re
ceive a continuance of the same.
E. CRQS3MAN.
Litohlield, Jan. 1st, 1862. tf-87
£. 8. Stoddard,
SHARON,
ATTORNEY and Counsellor 'at Law, and
, Agent for the collection of Soldiers’Rojin
ty. Back and Pensions.
Sharon. Oct. 2d. 1862. tf-26
CbM, Hotchkiss & Son,
WOLGOTTVILLE, CONN.,
PRACTICAL ARCHITECTS AND BUILD
ERS, Manufacturer* of Sash,Doors,Blinds,
Mouldings, Ac., and Dealers in Lumber of all
kinds.
«gr Sawing and Planing done at short notice.
March 4.1861. tf-46
prer
jhdd
ffe P*—wring, softening, and renewing the
PfW?j*nce°‘ Harness, Carriage tops, «c.
to order all kind* of doable and sin
.vr_Tr5elf °.r snperior style and woikman
- Pl of the best material. 3m9
m TTni»^M COTHRE1V,
rafeSSSSB6-1*®.3*
Woodbury, Her. 87,1868. gg-yi
Christian Reinhart.
W4TOH-MARKR, *»
tf4 LnoBxuuk, Conn.
~ Notice. ~~~
-—You eat) get your
. and SRoes mended and
as new, pt
C. KIBCHBEBOER’S.
H. B,—lakker Mss put on LaatRsr^Bwts
National Song.
FROM THE DANISH OF XWALD.
King Christian stood beside the mast,
Smoke mixt with flame,
Hung o’er his guns, that rattled fast
Against the Gothmen, as they pass’d -
Then suns each hostile sail and mast
In smoke and flame.
“ Fly !!’ said the foe: “ fly ! all that can,
Nor wage, with Denmark's Christian,
The dread, unequal game.
I
Niels Juul look’d out, and loudly cried,
“Quick! now’s the time:”
He hoisted up his banner wide,
And fore and aft his foemen plied.
4nd loud above the battle oried,
“ Quick! now's the time.”
“ Fly I” said the foe, “’t is Fortune’s rule,
To deck the head of Denmark’s Juul
With Glory’s wreath sublime.”
Onoe, Baltic, when the musket’s knell
Rang through the sky,
Down to thy bosom heroes fell
And gasp’d amid the stormy swell;
While from the shore a piercing yell
Rang through the sky!
“ God aids me,” cried our Tordenskiold;
“ Proud foes, ye are but vainly bold ;
Strike, strike, to me, or fly!”
Thou Danish path to fame and might,
Dark-rolling wave.
Receive a friend who holds as light
The perils of the stormy fight;
Who braves, like thee, the tempest’s might ;
Dark rolling wave,
0 swiftly bear my bark along,
Till, crown’d with conquest, lull’d with song,
I reach my bourne—the grove.
Barrow Romantic Ballads.
A Hundred Years Ago.
Where are the birds that sang
A hundred years ago ?
The flowers that all in beauty sprang
A hundred years ago ?
The lips that smiled,
The eyes that wild
In flashes shone
Soft eyes upon—
Where, 0 where are lips and eyes,
The maiden’s smile, the lover’s sighs,
That were so long ago ?
Who peopled all the city’s streets
A hundred years ago ?
Who filled the church with faces meek,
A hundred years ago 1
The sneering tale
Qf sister frai),
The plot that work’d
Another’s hurt—
Where, 0 where are plots and sneers,
The poor man’s hopes, the rich man’s fears,
That were se long ago T
Where are the graves where dead men slept
A hundred years ago ?
Who, whilst living, oft-times wept,
A liundled years ago ?—
By other men
They knew not then
Their lands are tilled,
Their homes are filled—
Yet Naturo then was just as gay,
And bright the sun shone as to-day,
A hundred years ago ?
Wishing.
A NURSERY SONG.
Bing, tiug | I wish I were a primrose—
A bright, yellow primrose, bloqming in the
spring!
The stooping boughs above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the elm tree for our king!
Nay, stay! I wish I were an elm tree—
A great lofty elm tree, with green leaves gay
The wind would set them dancing,
The sun and moonshine glance in,
And birds would house among the boughs,
And sweetly sing 1
Oh, ho! I wish I were a robin—
A robin or a little wren, everywhere to go,
Through forest, field, or garden.
And ask no leave or pardon,
Till winter comes, with icy thumbs,
To ruffle up our wing!
Well, tell! where should I fly to l*
Where to go to sleep in the dark wood or dell ?
Before a day was over,
Home must come the rover,
For mother’s kiss, sweeter this
Than any other thing. —Ailing ham.
Kingdom Coming.
A NEW NEGRO MELODY,
Say darkey, hab yer seen the masea,
Wid de mustash on his face,
Go ’long de road some time dis mornin’
Like he gwine to leab de place t
He seen a smoke’ way up de ribber,
Where de Linkum gunboats lay ;
He took his hat an’ left berry suddeq,
An’ I speo he’s run away.
CHORDS.
De massa run! ha! ha!
De darkey stay .' ho I ho!
It mus’ be now’d kingdom ownin'
An’ de year of jubilo!
He six foot one way, tree foot tudder,
An' he weigh tree hundred pound.
His coat so big he couldn’t pay de tailor
An’ it wont go half way round.
He drills so much dey call him Cap’n
An’ he get so drefful tanned,
1 speo he try an’ fool dem Yankees,
For to tink he’s contraband.
Chorus—De massa run, Ac.
De darkeys feel so lonesome libing
In de long house on de lawn,
Dey move dar tings to massa parlor
For to keep it while he’s gone,
Dar’s wine an’ cider in de kitchen,
An’ de darkeys dey’U had some;
I suppose de’ll all be cornQseated
When de Linkum sogers come.
Chorus—De massa run, Ac.
De oberseer he make us trouble,
An’ he drive us round a spell;
We look hint up in de smoke-house cellar
Wid <le key trown in de well.
De whip is lost, de han ’cuff broken,
But de massa’ll hab his pay,
He’s ole enough, big enough, ought to know
better,
Dan to went an’ run away.
Chorus—De massa run, Ac.
* The following delightful Uttle translation is
from Setnaniego, a writer of f|bles
THE SCRUPULOUS OATS.
“Two eats, old Tortoise-backapd Kate,
fmoe from its spit a capon ate.
*»*•>
ThfL Wwt hide or ours,
themselTea, however, clean,
1*1 JV *“WU behind a scroll,
Thw^VH£™- Quito precise/
‘8lr. I trow.
-Miscetl·ang,
• John Clark, and his Fortune.
“. Never mind the house, John; we’ve got
one of our own,” whispered John Clark’s wife.
She was a bright little thing, only twenty
years old j and how brightly she shone!—a
star aipid so sombre a company.
“ But what in the world has he left me ?”
mpttered John Clark. I believe he hated me
—I believe they all hate me 1”
“• Hush, dear!” said bis wife.
“ I bequeath to John Clark, my dearly be
loved nephew,” read the grim 'attorney, “ as a
reward for his firmness in resisting temptatiou
during the last two years, and his determina
tion to improve in all acceptable things, my
one-horse chaise, which has stood in my barn
mpre than twenty-five years, requesting that
he will repair it in a! suitable manner.”
That was all! Some of the people who were1
present, tittered, and all seemed to enjoy the
confusion of the young man. His eyes flashed
fire, be trembled excessively; poor little Jenny
fairly cried.
“To think,” she said to herself, “how hard he
has tried to be good, and that is all he thought
of it."
“ Wish yon joy,” said a red-headed youth,
with a broad grin, as he came out of the room.
_ John spring up to collar the fellow, bqt a
lily-white hand laij on his arm restrained him
“ L«t them triumph, John; it won’t hurt
you.” said Jenny, with her sunny smile—
“ pray don’t nqtice it for my sake.”
“ Served him right for marrying that ignor
ant goose of a Jenny Brazier,” said Susan
Spriggs—the niece of the old man just dead,
and to whom he had left a good deal of his
money. “ I suppose he speculated a good Jeal
on the old man’s generosity.” To which she
added in a whisper that only her own heart
heard—“ He might have had me; he had a
chance ; and I loved him better than any one
else—better than that pretty simpleton, Jen
ny Blazier.”
“ Now wo shall see how deep his goodness
is,” said a maiden aunt. M He became very
pious just because he expected a fortune from
my poor brother; but we shall see how much
of a change there is in John Clark. He al
ways was an imp of wickedness.”
“ Well, I think John Clark will have to be
contented with his little cottage,” said the fath
er qf Susan Spriggs, to good old Joe Hemp.
‘‘ Weil, I think he is content; if he ain’t he
ought to be, with that little jewel of a wife,”
was Joe’s reply.
“ Pshaw ! you are all crazy about that gal.”
Said Spriggs. “ Why, she ain’t to b* Compared
to my Susan. Susan plays on the forty piano
like sixty, and manages a house first rate.
. “ Bless yon, neighbor Spriggs, I’d rather have
that innocent, blooming face to smile on me
when I wake tup mornings, than all the forty
piano gals.”
“I’d like to know what yon mean ?” exclaim
ed Mr. Spriggs, firing up.
“ Just what^ I say,”^replied good old Joe
coolly.
** Well, that John Clark wifi die on the gal
lows, yet, mark my words,” said Spriggs, spite
“ That John Clark will make one of our best
men yet,” replied Joe.
“ Doubt it,” said Spriggs.
“Yes, may be you do,” said Joe;.“and
that’s a prettv way to build up a young fellow
isu’t it, when ho is trying bis best? No, John
Clark won t be a good man if you can help jt.
People that cry mad dog are plaguey willing to
stone the animal while be’s running, and if lie
ain't mad they're sure to drive him so. Why
don’t you step up to him and say—‘John, I’m
glad you’re going right now, and' Tve got faith
in you: and if you want any help come to me
and I’ll assist you.’ That’s the way to do the
business, Mr. Spriggs.”
“ Well, 1 hope you'll do it, that’s all,” repli
all, and Pm bound to do so if I
have a chance. Fact is, he’s {got such a smart
little wife that he dop’t really need any help.”
“No, ’tisa pity then that brother Jacob left
him that one horse chaise.”
“ Ypu needn’t laugh at that; old Jacob nev
er did anything without a meaning to it. That
old chaise may help him to be great yet.—
Fact is, I thick myself if Jacob had left him
niouey it might have been .the ruin of him.—
Less things than a one horse chaise have made
a man’s fortune.
“ Well, I’m glad you think so much of him ;
I don’t,” said Spriggs.
“ No,” muttered Joe. us hU neighbor turned
away “ but if he’d married your raw boned
darter that plays on the forty pianner, he’d been
all right.”
A one borse chaise,” said Spriggs, laughing,
—“ what a fortune !”
And go it went from mouth to month. None
of the relatives—some of them aireadv rich—
had offered the poorest man among them (the
owner of the quo horse chaise,) any of the be
queathment left to bin) or her, btat they had
father rejoiced at his disappointment.
The truth is, everybody bad prophesied that
John Clark, a poor motherless boy, would come
to ruin, and they wanted the prophecy to be a
true one, He had, in youth, been wild and
wayward, ancj somewhat profligate in the early
years of his manhood ; bat - his old ancle had
encouraged him to reform—held ont hopes to
which he had hitherto been a strauger; and the
love of the sweet young Jenny Brassier com
pleted, as it seemed his reformation.
Jenny never appeared so lovely as she did on
that unfortunate day of the reading of the will
after they had returned to the poor little house
that was Jenny's own.
“ No matter, John,” she said cheprfuijy,
“yon will rise in spite of them. I wouidu t
let them think that I was in the least discoura
ged; that would please them too well. We
are doing fine now) and you know, if they cut
the railroad through onr little bit of land the
money will set ns up quite comfortably. ' Isn’t
onr home a happy oufe if it is small ? and oh 1
John by-and by.”
An eloquent blush—a glance toward her
work basket, ont of which peeped the most
delicate needle work, told the story—that ever
new stojy of innocence, bennty and helpless
ness. ■
For one, John Clark stopped the gossip’s
month. _ |f8 held his head np inanfoily—work
ed steadily at his trade, and every step seemed
a sure advance and an upward one.
Baby wasjnst six months old when the rail
way company paid into John Clark’s hand a
?8fr handsome sum for the privilege of catting
a railway through his little field.
s'*A handsome baby, a beautiful and indnstri
ou wife, and a good round snm from the rail
way company,” thought John with honest ex
ult' »tion; “ well this is living.”
. “ ^ .rising frorq her work,
“ look there !” "
He did, and saw the one-horse ehaise drag
ged by a stalwart laborer.
“ Master says how the old bar > is to he palled
down, so he so t you the shay’ ’ said the la
borer.
“ Thank him for nothing,” said John bitter
ly ; but a glance at his wile removed the evil
spirit, and a batter one smiled ont of his own
eyes.
*
“ John, yqn can spare a little money to have
the old chaise done up, can’t von ? You
ought to according to th« will.said"Jenny.’’
u The old trash !” muttered John.
“ But you could at least sell it for what the
repairs wo«ld cost,” said Jenny, and bless me
I’d keep it too. You’ve got a gooif horse, and
can have the old chaise made quite stylish for
baby and me to ride in,”
“ Well, I’ll send over to Hosier's tomorrow
and see what helll do for it,” said John.
“ Look here! Mr. Hosmer wants you to come
over, to his shop,” shouted the wheelwright's
apprentice on the following day, at the top of
his lungs- ‘‘ Old Joe Hemp’s there an’ says
he’s right down glfcd. Its hundreds and hun
dreds and hun—”
" Stop boy—what does he mean Jenny?”
cried John, putting the baby in the cradle,
face downwards.
“ My patience, John ! just look at that child
—precious darling 1 I’m sure I don’t know,
John. I’d go over and see,” said Jenny.
‘‘Taint any fun, I tell you,” said the boy,
while John hurried an his coat an<i hat; My
gracions -—you’ll say it ain’t fan when you
come to see all them gold things, and the pa
pers.1’
This added wings to John’s feet, and in a
moment he stood breathless in the wheel
wright’s shop.
“ Wish you joy, my (ins feller,” cried honest
Joe Hemp.
“ Look here 1 what’d you take for that old
chaise ! I’ll give you four hundred,’’
“Four hundred?” repeated John Clark
Hgjtoak
“ Yea jnstlook at it! You’re a rich nan,
sir and I’m glad of it. Yon deserve to be,”
said the wheelwright, shaking John’s hand
heartily.
What do you suppose was the consternation,
delight, gratitude—the wild, wild joy that fill
e<? his heart, when he fonnd the old chaise lined
with gold and bank notes! I mean the oushion
the linings, and every place where they could
be placed without danger or injury.
Poor John—or rather rich Jehu—his head
Was turned. It required all the balance of Jen
ny’s nice equipoise of character to keep its ex
static brain from spinning like a humming top.
Imagine if yon can, dear the peculiar feel
ings of those kind friends who bad prophesied
that John Clark would come to grief. At first,
old Joe Hemp proposed tq take the old chaise
just as it was—linings stripped, bits ot cloth
hanging—and proclaim with a trumpet the
good tidings to the whole village, taking espe
cial pains to stop before the house of Mr.
Spriggs, and blowing loud enough to drown all
the forty pianos in the universe, but that was
voted down by John’s kind little wife.
“ La! they’ll all know of it soon enongh 1"
she said, kissing the baby ; “ I wouldn’t hurt
their feelings.”
They did know of it; and a few years after
wards they all agreed that John Clark had real
ly turned out a good man. So much for the
old one-horse chaise.
How the Mississippi Whits Trash Swap
Wives.—Two of those semi-savages had re
solved to remove to the West in hope of bet
tering their copditjon. One wished to remove
to Arkansas, the other to Texas. The wife of
the former wished to go to Texas, the latter to
Arkansas. 1 ho husbands were desjrops of
gratifying theif spouses, bat could devise no
plan that, seemed likely to prove satisfactory,
till one day when hunting, finding game rath
er scarce, they sat down upon a log, when the
following dialogue took place :
Kit, I’m sort a pestered about Dilsie.
She swears to Rackensack she’ll go, and no
whay else. I oilers had a hankerin’ arter Tex
as. Plague take Rackensack, I say 1 Ef a
man war thar, the ager and the airthqnakes
ed shake him ont on it quicker en nothin.’ ”
11 When a woman’s set on gwine any-whar,
they're gwine. It’s jes no use to talk. I’ve
coaxed Minnie mpre’n liffle to go along with
me to Arkansas, and the more I coax the
more she won’t go."
“ Well, Kit, ’sposen we swap women."
“Well, Sam, what tradell ye gin.”
“ Oh 1 a gentleman’s trade of course 1”
“ Shacks, Sam ! ’sposen I had a young filly,
and yon an old mar, ye wouldn’t swap at an
even trade, would ye ?”
“ No j it ’ud be too bard. I tell you what
111 do, Kit. Here’s a shot gun that’s wuth ten
dollars, ef it’s wnth a red. I’ll give it and that
ar b’ar skin hangin' on the side of my shanty,
to boot, and say it’s a trade."
“ Nuff sed, ef the women’s agreed.
Home they went, and stated the case to the
women, who, after due deliberation, acceded
to the proposition, having also made a satis
factory arrangement about the children, and
they all went on their way rejoicing on their
respective destinations in that
“ America’s heaven of eternal rest,
Found a little further West.”
A Fair Offset.—A good story 13 told of a
showman, who carried about on exhibition an
enormous bear. In a certain town in Vei
■pont, where brnin wps attracting crowds,
dwelt a farmer and his wife, and an interest
ing and multitudinous family of twenty chil
dren. The pater familias was very desirous of
gratifying the commendable cariosity of his
offspring; bat the price of admission was ope
shilling, and that iriultiyilied by the number of
his olive plants was too much for his ex
chequer. He therefore approached the show
man, and alter some parley concluded a bar
gain, by which the latter agreed to drjve into
the farmer’s tack yard with bruin’s cage, and
give a private exhibition to the entire family
for one 'dollar. This was done, to the great
deljght of the old folks and the children, when
tile former proffered the compensatory dollar
to the obliging sbowpian. “ Oh 1 no!” said
the latter. “ I can’t take any tiling; it ie no
more • sight for your family to pee my bear,
tljan for my bear tp see your family.”
— " I
A lazy boy makes a lazy mu, just as sure
as a crooked sapling makes a crooked tree.
Whp ever yet sayr a boy grew op in idleness,
that did not » ■l»ift|eps vagabond when
he became* m*o, spies* he had a fortune left
him to keep up appearances ? Hie grppt pus*
of thieve*, paupers, and criminals tax* comp
to what tbpy an by being broaght up in idfo
nero. Those who eonstitnte the business part
of the community—those who make oar grei t
and usefpl mpn—were taught to be industri
ous.
Rallopuing.
There hare been many happy specimens of
slang literature of late, but the following,
‘‘ time and place considered,” is certainly tbe
most felicitous. It is going the rounds of tbe
press, as an original account by Professor Ris
ley, tbe well known accomplished posture mas
ter, furnished to an English paper, of his ro
cept ascapt ip the Nassau Balloon with Mr.
Green.
There were a couple of cars attached to the
balloon, eight passengers occupying the first,
and two in the lower one. Amidst my com
panion? was my protege, the Young Hernan
dez, and a couple of ladies. No sooner had
I vaulted into the car than I felt as if already
in I some new element, and unable tp keep my
position, I squatted like a sailor on a crosstree
upon the hoop that unites the lashings of the
car, and in that elevated position had an op
portunity 0 f telegraphing tokens of good will
with all my friends. I cap only liken my feel
ipgs at the moment to those I used tp experi.
ence ip my hobbledehoyish days when I left
the university at vacation for bpme, and I
have a smart calculation that the machine mast
have been inflated for the occasion with oxy
gen that had effervesced from a tun of cham
pagne. A fair compagnon du voyage asked
me what I would take for supper in my eleva
ted lodging, and I answered, “ A boiled squab
and a brandy smash 1"
“ Boom !-” went the signal gun for starting'as
I spoke, and the stays were cast off. 1 leaped
to my feet upon my perch, and saw every bat
in the gardens waving. Off went my old beav
pr, and I ascended with the lightest heart I
pver felt in my life. Mr. Ferrars, the worship
ful secretary of the gardens, wag as much ex
cited as myself, and leaped to the opposite side
of the hoop. His enthusiasm kept pace with
my own, aud each of ns rigged our roarers, as
we were about to jein a jubilee of the gods.
We went ahead as if impatient to singe our
pates against the sun, or as if old mother
Earth was playing at foot-ball, and wished to
try her strength on the Nassau balloon. Up
we went walking in the upper regions like an
oppossum up a gum-tree, while the cheers of
our friends and the plash qf the band beneath
produced a volume of sound not uulike the
--thunders of Niagara. Talk of sensations! I
felt as if my soul had sloped slick from its
clay, and was going a holiday making with my
! heart in its hand.
A young gentleman in the car thought it as
i nice as a swing at a country fair.
‘ More jike a jaunt to Paradise,' said one of
the ladieg.
• \ery likely,’ quoth the gentleman,« for we
are hovering over one of its rivers.’
JIow can that be V said I. ‘Yonder stream
is the Thames.’
‘Very well,’ said my young friend; ‘and
ain’t that identical with the river ‘ Pison ?’
I should have gone down speechless but for
a glass of the immortal sherry of my friend
Green. It was a drop out of the same bot:
tie that he broached for the ladies on his last
ascept, after tilting their protectors on the
parapet of a house that hadn’t the manners to
step aside when it found itself in the way of
the balloon.
We now began to clear the gardens, flying
pbove the very birds, who piped a farewell,
like so many Jenny Linds. It was np—up—
up—soar—soar—till the pleasure grounds we
had quitted appeared like the garden plot in
front of a Camberwell cottage. The Thames
twined over its shallows like a silver eel in a
sand basket. Houses became birdcages, oaks
dwindled info cabbages, men became specks,
women dew drops, and I began to think that
the genus homo was in the habit of thinking a
little too much of itself. To be serious, when
I saw the great globe swinging at my feet, and
the mighty metropolis of the earth looking like
a village down-east at the foot of a range of
hills, it struck me as a thorough-going eternal
truth, that it mattered little whether the An
des or the Grampian Hills were the chief scen
ic features of a nation ; as it was only neces
sary to fly a little higher than a kite to reduce
the mightiest mountain in the world tp a mere
mole-bill.
We now neared a bank of clouds, and I
saw what I never thought of seeing as long as
I lived—the moon beneath my feet. She was
jpst topping thp horizon, and we were at least
a mile above the highest point of the surface.
A bank of clouds surged beneath us ; and,
catching sunlight on one side, and moonlight
on the other, gave a notion of a sea with
waves washing silver from the east, and gold
from the west. I thought what a panorama
the scene would ipakp : and, as we floated
past a vista in the clouds, I thought also what
an extensive bowliDg alley the divinites of
heathen mythology might have constructed
there; playing with thunderbolts for balls,
apd using lightning instead of gas to illumi'
nate the place, ^pt as we continued to
mount, my terrestrial imaginings gave way to
tdftas of (Mother kind. I wag moving through
that which forms tire prinpiplep of both lifp
and death—of that which nourishes and which
decays—that which wafts the pleasure-boat to
its IdeetinatioD, while purt bring an eleptric
force sufficient to shatter our entire planet
into figments. Here ye were piereiug the
elements of destruction, with ftp other intima
tion of their presence thpn the zephyr tha t
®*ftDe4 our forehead#.
Little Hermtftdep was as delighted as I was,
and made ue ail smile by exclaiming, “If this
be the pleasure of riding in the sir, I don’t
wonder at Phaeton borrowing his father’s hor
ses to take a gallop over clouds.”
A merrier, happier party never congregated
at the banquets of royalty. We were many
of us strangers to eaeh other, and yet we fra
ternized without high treason or revolution,
in the most amiable spirit imaginable. Why
was this? Our lives hung on the chance of a
moment, and the best thing that we could do
while in the enjoyment of vitality and health!
was to gild the pill of existence as brightly
as possible. Had I read the Bible from Gene
sis to Revel* tions, I could not have learned a
better lesson ; national animosities and human
prejudices subsided before it. I felt that if
the great family of man would but fancy itself
in the car of a balloon, and make the best of
matters, as we did, all would go sliek and
straight: at the moment I arrived at that con.
elusion, I resolved to preach the doctrine, and
said, “ Now, Mr. Green, I want to go mission
erizing : put me down if you please.”
We landed at Sydenham—landed in safety;
and having made our acknowledgments to
those who crowded to our assistance on reach
ing the terra firma, we returned to the gar
dens, where a spirit of the .kindest welcome
displayed itself in an outburst of those huzzas
which Britishers turn to the two fold purpose
of welcoming their best friends, and dismaying
theirjbes.
Re-Union in Heaven.—How short is the
earthly hist ory of a family ! A few years, and
those who are embraced in the family circle
will be scattered. The children, now the ob
jects of the most tender solicitude, will have
grown np and come forth to their respective
stations in the world. A few more years and
children and parents will have passed from
this earthly stage. Their names will be no
longer heard in their present dwelling. Their
domestic loves and anxieties, happiness and
sorrows, will be sold and forgotten history.
Every heart in which it is written will be
mouldering in the cold grave.
And is this all ? Is this the whole satisfac
tion which is provided for some of the strong
est feelin gs of your hearts? How can such
transitory beings, with whom our connection
is so brief, engage all the love we can feel ?
Why should not oar feelings towards them be
as feeble and unsatisfactory as they? But
blessed be God, this is not all. Of this He
has given us perfect assurance in the Gospel
of His Son.
Though to the unenlightened nature the ties
of domestic love seem scattered into dust, the
spiritual eye of faith perceives that they have
been loosened on earth only to be resumed un
der far happier circumstances in the region of
everlasting love and bliss.
Little Ones Hear.—Parents and other
persons, though having at heart the good of
children, are very apt to be heedless of what
they say in the presence of the yonng ones,
whose minds and hearts catch the hue of ev
ery sentipient expressed. They talk on and
the child is seemingly well pleased in its
play, but words and statements then made,
come np days after when they have forgotten
the conversation, wonderfully fresh from the
child’s lips. Its mind had been revolving .what
it heard for good or evil. Boys grow old too
fast by hearing men talk among themselves
A writer says : “ If we stopped to think how
every word spoken in the presence of a child,
affects its future for good or evil, we would be
more considerate in onr speech. It is aston
ishing how for days, children will ponder over
a word or sentence, which no one supposed
they had ever heard, at some particular mo
ment use it themselves with horrifying effect.
How an impatient, petulant word shocks us,
coming second hand from those innocent lips 1
Then, alas ! we see and deplore its real de.
lormity, and realize how potent is our influ
ence over these observant iunocents, not only
at all times, but at every moment of time In
which they are in onr presence.
Ocb Religious Department.—Deacon M.
was an honest old codger; a kind neighbor.
8pd a good Christian, believing in the Presby
terian creed to the fullest extent; but, lncka
day 1 the deacon would ocasionally get exceed
ingly “ mellow,” and almost every Sunday at
dinner, he would indulge in his favorite cider
brandy to such an extent that it was with diffi
culty he reached his pew, in the broad aisle,
near the pulpit, and between the minister’s and
the village squire's. One Sunday morning the
parson told his floek that he should preach a
sermon touching many glaring sins so conspic
uous among them ; and that he hoped they
would listen attentively, and not flinch if he
happened to be severe. The afternoon came,
and the house was full. Everybody turned
out to hear their neighbors ‘‘dressed down"’ by
the minister, who, after well opening his ser
mon, commenced upon the transgressors in a
lond yoipe, with the question, “ Where is the
drunkard ?” A solemn pause succeeded the
enquiry; when up rose Deacon M., his face
glowing from draughts of his favorite drink,
and steadying himself as well as he could by
the pew rail, looked up to the parson and re
plied, in a piping and trembling voice, “ Here
I am.” Of course a consternation among the
congregation was the result of the honest dea
con’s response; however the parson went on
witli his remarks qs he had written them,
commenting severely upon the drqnkard, and
closed by warning him to forsake at once such
evil habits if he would seek salvation and flee
the coming wrath. The deacon then made a
bow and seated himself again. “ And now,”
asked the preacher in his loudest tones, “ where
ts the hypocrite f" A pause, but no one re
sponded. Eyes were turned upon this and
. i. l,nMinilB^sa»esa&
that man ; but the most glances seemed dire#,
ted to the squire’s pew, and indeed the penoo
seemed to squint hard in that direction, ^e
Deacod saw where the shaft was simed, or
where it should be a^ed, and rising once
more, leaned over his pew rail to the squire,
whom he tapped on the shoulder, and thus
j addressed. Come, squire, why don't you get
up-, 1 did, when he called oj» me.
For the Enqoiree.
The Ship Canal.
The Ship Qanal Convention which *u con
vened at Chicago, Jane 2nd wae an oeceaion
of great interest, Seme sixteen or seventeen
States were represented by delegation*[more or
IMS numerous.
The Convention embraced on the list of ita
members many men distinguished for talent;
and high position.
The Hon. H. Hamblin, Vice President of
the United States presided as Presidents—
Vice Presidents, Secretaries and Committees
were appointed, one of each from tits spverqj
states represented.
Connecticut was represented by. four dele
gates. The action of the Convention was per
fectly harmonious. A Committee of one from
a State was appointed on resolutions: Alj
resolutions before being acted on had to re
ceive the approbation of this Committee of
which the Hon. Mr. Buggies of N. Y. was
Chairmaq. There was an expectation op the
part of the members from the North West that
it was the duty of the Committee to locate thq
proposed Ship Canal and designate its diman-,
tions, which view was not generally entertain
ed. It was finally agreed that the pnrpoae amj
duty of the Convention was tq awaken the pub
lic mind to the object and to nige upon Con
gress the speedy adoption of measures for its
accomplishment.
It is urged upon the country as a great pm
tionul work. While it is considered as essen
tial to meet the increasing demand of thq
Commerce between the East and the West, it
is deemed vastly important as a mean; of Na
tional defense.
Our present treaty with Great Britain par;
mits ns to keep only one small armed steamer
on each of the lakes.
In case of war between the two countries on
enemy could speedily cover those waters wttij
a formidable navy through the Welland Canal,
while we would have to build one for each sac?
tion of the lakes east and west pf
Falls. If we have a Ship Canal connecting
the Mississippi Biver with lake Michigan, and
lake Ontario with the Hudson Biver onr Gan
Boats could pass to any point on then inland
waters where they might be needed.*
Able Engineers will be prepared to present
to the next Congress estimates of th* coat of
construction, Ac.
If the public mind is sufficiently enllghtqn
ed with the importance of this measure It will
be Boon accomplished
As a commercial measure New England jjfla
a deep interest in its adoption.
The bread stufifs of the West will pad| ua at
a much lower price than possibly oan be at
present and our articles of manufiwture will
command the markets of the West.
The estimated cost of the whole work is
abont thirty millions of dollars. Its practical
operateon would be to open some eigkt then,
sand miles of navigable waters to the Atiqntie
Ocean through the Hndson Biver giving oqi.
let to more than a million square tpjlef pf fcp
tife lands. The lake coast is one third great
er than onr whole Atiantio coast.
Nearly two thousand Teasels now naTigalQ
the several great lakes whose aggregate capa
city is over four hundred thousand tons.
The annual products already of tliif vfst fer
tile region of country, though comparatively
new, is immense, as seme statistics from our
last census will show, via : of Wheat, Corn
and all other grains, more than 900,000,000 of
bushels, and the wealth in animals too is very
great, they numbering in I860 over seventeen
and a half millions. These enormous products
are the results of culture of a little trier* than
a quarter of a century. The extensive iind
numerous mineral productions of the Nertl)
West are strongly augmenting tl*<9 pressing
necessity for an increased outlet to market.
At present the facilities for conveying cere
als to an eastern market, great as they are, it if
impossible to send forward all the grain, as
quantities of it have been kept back for want
of means of conveyance for the term or thia*
years- When a cheap and sufficient outlet is
furnished to the great West, industry will be
stimnlated and products greatly increased.—
The increasing demand of Europe upon this
country for food is a consideration in favor of
its constrnctiqn.
As a national object the vast results of this
enterpriee cannot fully be estimated, ft would
form a living and perpetual bond betweeu thq
East and the West, insure a unity of interests
and a harmony of action which would make
the inhabitants of the two extremities one peo
ple foreyer.
S. W. GOf,D.
West-Corn wall, Jnne 29th 1883.
The New York Times state* that after the
last battle of Chaneellorsville, Gen. Meade’*
appointment )o supersede ftep.'lfpoker was
urged by ever; corps commander,with,perhaps,
one exception. Tie officer ne^t Jn r*nk t*
Gen. Hooker (Gen. Couch) was himself desi
rona that Gen. Mead* should be his obief.
The simplest and best way *f pw*errl»#
woolen* through the summer from the destrm -
tion of moths, is to wrap them well op, after
brushing and beating them, in cotton or linen
eloths. The moth can past neither. Twd
covers well wrapped around asd secured from
the air will be effectual.

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