Ellsworth American. [volume], February 09, 1855, Image 1

About Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current

Image provided by: Maine State Library

                
--- ' -...'- * -....
AMERICANS CAN OOVBRN AMERICA SlWBUI Tfti AID OP POPMnnxODMOH.
VOLUME I. ELLSWORTH, HANCOCK COUNTY, MAINE; FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1855. NUMBER 6,
-1---- ' --L.. .‘- -. . ■— ...
&jje (Bfaortjj Jlmerirmi
IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDA 1 MORNING BY
WK. H. CHAHEY,
Office in Osgood's Block, next door South of th«
Ellsworth Bank,
t eTm s .
•2,00 per annum ; if paid strictly in advance 81,HP.
n^>“ADVknTiR«MKirrs inserted at reasnnhle rates.
(Writtan fi»r the Ellsworth American )
A Dlalofnt.
BETWEEN F. AND M.
V. Supposes dear Sifter, you nnd I,
Should undertake to-day.
To write a piece for our Ed,
D’ye •fpme he’d print it, any.'
M. I do not Know but what lie might,
But then our chance is slim;
But if we only wor» it right,
And Keep good sides with him—
M. Twill never do—if write we muat,
Our safe and surest way,
To do our best and run the risk,
All trash lie throw* awny
Y\ But if wc write a great long piece
With lofty words u'erruti,
lie'll lie ustonifhed at our wit
And mark us No. 1,
k, Ol. ..1.1 _ nil m (l.Av Ift'linl.
Or sentence long drawn out,*
Twould be in Webster’s Unabridged,
And he has one no doubt,
5* Tins stringing out jaw-cracking words,
In Mirli contusion wild,
Ensun s contempt, and low era a sage,
Down to tbe merest child.
M Since W'«* have uanglit iliat'a worth the
w In l«,
fiothi ng that all ran read—
Suppose «c lay our p« ns aside.
What say? (F )—Yes, l*m agreed.
Touch not the Bowl.
BV DAVID BARKER.
| T. udi m>l the bowl— bow.r* lb* ri«,—
Though joy ail lends the minute.
More deadly than the basilisk.
A serpent luiks within it,—
Touch not the bowl.
ftrorn not the wine cup’s fearful power.
Thy hopes that draught is killing,
That laxar potion hour by hour,
Sunn- new made grstc is tilling,—
Touch not tin* bowl.
A .l.-mnii lingering round that bowl.
Thy funeral dirge is hymning,
And thousand woes, to curse thy soul,
Upon that bowl arc swimming —
Touch not the bow I.
[American Sentinel
(Original.
I Written lor the Ellsworth Ainenean.l
Hill. TIK QUAD ROW SLAVE,
OR
THE REWARO OF FRIENDSHIP.
BY G. II. 8.
Ths toss is fairsst whsi» It's Mu«hh*< nssr,
A il h ipj Is brightest srhsu it «!»• >* from fssrs ;
i'hs rose is swsstost washed with inwrutug dew,
Aod toss is loreliest, when saibshnsil in tears.
|Ltbt or rua Uks, Cau. Ith.
(Conclusion.)
Time, moving on noiseless wings, has
sped wiih eleciric rapidity, sweeping a
long in its train weeks and months, un
til seten years have glided almost imper
ceptiblj from the dark disk of mortal du
ration, into the dread chaos of eternity
Seven year* with it* ever varying
scene* have ernwded from our memorj
many pul event*, but let ui not forge
our hero the young Leal! whom we lef
homeward bound from the couth. '1 aln
• peep at him now seated in his snuj
little parlor, brilliantly lighted by ■ spark
ting coal lire, occupied in readiug to th<
young end lovely partner <•( his joy am
sorrows, who is at this moment piayiull;
carressing e little cherub gill but tw<
years old, while we relate to you i
bketch of hia life from the time he lei
us at the south.
Lesli, after returning home continuei
his business as usual until the death L
his father, which took place about tw
years afterwards, when he sold bis intei
est in the cutton factory and commence
4UI a scale the career of a city merchani
He soon after led to the alter a beautify
and intelligent young lady of high fami
Jy, whom his hue person and coinmam
ing telenls; both natural and acquire!
had won.
lie purehashed a neat little cottage i
the outskirts of the city, where he move
his lovely bride. Here in the society <
his wile aud child, lie enjoyed all the U<
niestic happiness that bis ardent imagii
Agination could picture. His busiuea
increased so that in a few years he wi
what might be celled independent, bi
| alas what mortal ever lived beneath the
! the continual sunshine of prosperty .
j W ho does not recolect that wh irlwind
of speculation which about this time
swept over New England, elevating some
tu the pinnacle of fortunn, while others
it hurled into the vortex of ruin? Lesli
embarked his whole lortuue in a vast land
purchase, which promised a bountiful har
vest of wealth to those who had invested
capital in the scheme.
But the enterprise proved a complete
failnre, involving Leslie and others in
total ruin. Ilis property had been mort
gaged for security, the foreclosure made
and I.esli was penniless. For a few hun
dred dollars however, his creditors would
permit him to retain his house and keep
his store open. This would at least con
tinue him in business and insure him a
livelihood, consequently every nerve was
strained, every means tiied to raise the
requisite sum.
.dll day, Lesli went from friend to
friend who in his prosperity had professed
for him the warmest regard, laid before
them his case and in the most moving
terms solicited their aid; but true to the
world, his friends were extremely sorry
at his misfortune' hut 'money was very
; tight just then' — had sent away the last'
dollar', very sorry that I cannot accom-1
I odate vou Slc dec. 1
Disgusted and in despait, Leslie turned
a\i ay, lie scarcely knew whither; he
traveled street after street almost perfect
ly unconscious of liis whereabouts. The
run find set and be turned Ins weary steps
towards home.
He paused. “No, no, I cannot, I can
not meet my wife to tell her that she
must leave her home, to go, the Lord on
ly knows whither; I cannot see my dear
babe turned into the street like the vilest
beggar—no, no.”
lie turned, retraced bis steps; his
bead whirled; his brain seemed on fire,
blank despair rested like a mountain on
his breast ; he paused on a wharf; he
looked dowu upon the -dark waters; the
demon ol despair see“'«J •“ •'v'-kw., i.i>»
sin-a heavy ham! laid upon his shoul
der, caused the blood to bound through
Ins veins. On turning, lie confronted a
little jet black negro.
“He, lie, uiassa belter gib up de idee
obduck—take some turkey, yar, har.”
"Imp of darkness,” exclaimed Lesli,
seizing the African by the collar, “your
business, quick, or by lleaven the duck
shall be yours.”
The terrified black hastily placed a
folded note in Lesli's baud, and made of]'
as fast as bis e rooked powers of locomo
tion would permit.
Lesli unfolded the note and read as
follows :
Mr.. Lesli W-,
Dear Slit—You are
requested to call at No. 1“ — street, at
S o’clock ibis evening. Come without
fail.
Your Frit nd, \V. H
Lesli hardly knew what to think ol
this I onic message; he ran over in his
mind - I his city acquaintances, but
could think of no one answeriug to the
initials, W. II.
“This is doubtless designed to draw
me into some plot. 1 will not go,” said
he ; but hope whispered,
“This visit may open some door
whereby I may escape the gulf of pov
erty and disgrace, which seems yawuing
beneath."
Putting the letter into his pocket, he
directed his steps towards the No. de
signated, where he arrived, rang the bell,
and urns conducted into the elegantly
furnished room, where, »e»t*d upon the
’ sola, wm a noble looking gentleman, by
his side side sat a richly dressed lady,
j while on the carpet were two children, a
r boy and girl, engaged in childish sport.
Lesli sighed, as this scene vividly pre
[ sented to bis view, his own little parlor,
t with its lovely occupants. But he hud
little time to indulge in reverie, for no
I sooner had he crossed the threshold, than
C his hand was enthusiastically grnsjied by
, the gentleman.
“My friend, my benefactor," exclaim
[ ed lie, "thank Heaven, I aiu allowed the
pleasure of again beholding your face."
I By this time the lady held the other
. hand. ,
••Noble sir,” said she, "do you not rec
ognize in us your two poor captives
whom you saved from miserable bond
aget See, see," she continued, with
j tears in her eyes, drawing to her side the
I nvo beautiful children, "see the happi
ness we owe to you, our truest and best
, earthly friend."
s “la this tlie good man mother, that
s you told me shout.’” inquired the little
t boy.
"Yes, my dear, thank the kind gen
tleman for mother.”
“Thank you, papa, shall I not call yot
papa?” said the little fellow, clinging tc
Lesli’s hand.
“Yes, my little cherub,” said Lesli
kissing his fat cheek. “My dear friends,’
continued he, "1 see all, Providence
has smiled upon you and crowned yot
with happiness, and if I have been itr
strumental in promoting that happiness, .
feel fully paid for all 1 have done. Bui
1 must hear the story of your wander
ings since we parted, years ago, at St
Francisville.”
"Sit down, dear sir," said William,
"and you shall hear all. After you left
ns we waited until the hour had expir
ed tlieu proceeded to unfold the pack
age ns you directed. Judge our aston
ishment when we became fully sensible
if the priceless treasure you had placed
in our hands. \Ve read with o’ercharg
ed hearts our letters of manumission—
we were free!
“Believe me, my dear sir, it almost
unmanned me ; my emotions were near
ly uncontrolable. And poor Mary was
so overcome that she actually swooned,
and it was with the utmost difficulty that
she could be brought to her senses. So
-j j --- - ~ --D- *
iliat we had nearly forgotten the other
package. It was a small, but well-filled
purse, with this letter, which has been
ever kept nearest to my heart, you know
the contents, but I cannot refrain from
reading it, perhaps, for the thousandth
time.
To William and Mary,
My friends:—You are by this lime
iware of what atfirds me the most heart
felt pleasure, that of placing in your
lauds what God designed fur every hu
nan being, freedom to act at will. Yes
,'ou nre free; your will is no longer
mother’s. Go, then, earn an honest
ivelihood, live happy in the smiles ol
irue and devoted love for each other.
To enable you iu c......-— l..«
I !.«•«. Ur. .. .-malt -urn, to which
gou arc welcome. Farewell, God pros
per and bless you.
Your friend, Lksli W-.
“To be brief, our arrangements were
ijuickly made, and the next day we were
nn our way to France, where in due time
we arrived at Havre, from thence we pro
ceeded to Alencon. where I had the
good fortune to obtain the lease of a
small house the basement of which we
fitted up as a store.
I purohased a few goods with the
money you left me, and vve soon found
ourselves, in reality keeping house.—
Our income, though small, was more than
sufficient to supply us with the necessa
ries of life; vve were even enabled tc
admit some ol its luxuries into our little
domicile.
Our happiness was increased tenfold
on the birth of a rosy-cheeked boy, whoir
we named Llsi.i, in grateful remem
brance of the name .that would evci
bring to mind, as it seems to us, the
morning of our existence which we owe
to your generosity.
Out the best part of our story remain:
untold. One afternoon in September, i
splendid carriage, drawn by two beauti
ful Arabian grays, drew up at our door
from which a middle aged gentlemar
alighted and entered—made some smal
purchase and was about to retire, whet
Mary caine into the store. The gentle
man started suddenly, changed colo
rapidly, and putting his hand to hi:
brow, seemed lost in thought, Painfu
reminisences of the past were flitting
across his vision. Supposing him ill,
was about to get some cordial, when hi
took me by the arm.
“ Tell me,' said he, ‘who is this lady?
“ ‘1 his—this is my wife,’ answered
in astonishment.
“ ‘And what is your name?’
‘“William Howard from Louisian
replied 1.
“ ‘From Louisiana say you? For tli
love of Heaven tell me the maiden nam
of your wife,’ cried he in evident agita
lion.
“‘Mary DeLanibert.'
“ ‘And her mother'■ name?'
•“Was Angeline.’
«‘Mysterious Heaven ! and thus hav
1 found thee. O, my daughter,’exclaim
ed the gentleman, clasping Mary in hi
embrace.
“ ‘My dear lather,' was all that Mar
could articulate,
“But, mv dear air, your own imagma
lion must picture what language canui
adequately express—the joyful hou
which thus mysteriously brought to
father's arms a daughter—of that ecstai
f -JF KW "-r
• ic moment when a daughter whole lip
had never pronounced the endearbi|
i name of father, could clasp la Her bo
aom, the author of her existence.
“1 haste to acquaint you with his his
, torv which I will endeavor to relate at
nearly as possible in his own words."
i ‘“You are probably familiar, my deni
child,’ said he to Mary, 'with your moth
er’s history, and cruel desertion, which
clouded the bright world of poor Ange
line’s hopes and strewed mjgowu pathway
with bitterness and sorrow. Yes, since
that sad day my life has been a dreary
desert, unrefreshed in its desolation by
one genial spring, one grateful oasis ol
sympathetic friendship ; but since kind
Heaven has been pleased to bestow upon
me' a long lost child, I feel already like t
new being, now that I have an object to
love and live for.
‘“On informing my friends (who were
zealous Roman Catholics) of my mar
riage their rage was almost beyond the
bounds of reason. I bad, in their opin
ion, committed on unpardonable digres
sion from the‘hoi y, infalible mother of
the faitlilul,’ by uniting myself with a
prolestant heretic. My father vowed he
would disown and disinherit me, unless I
would disclaim all further connection
with the lovely being 1 bad sworn to pro
tect. But I paused not a moment be
tween filial obligation ami what I deem
ed a sacred duty, and when my parents
found that my determination was uual
icrauiy iiacu, ineir ire seemeu 10 remx.
My mother spoke, apparently with much
pleasure, of the day when she would see
her absent daughter, and my father even
proposed the plan of fitting up hia beau
tiful summer residence, tor our accom
modation.
“‘With delightful anticipations I com
menced preparations for my departure,
when my father informed me that the
settlement of our estates iu Fontaineblue
would necessarily detain me for a few
weeks, but proposed that Father Tellier
sKniilil CT<* t.. I nil.oimn It* ">«' «>laC6 ddll*
Ml",
“‘‘With him, your wife will be as
safe as though you went yourself.’
“ ‘In our family confessor I had ever
reposed the most implicit confidence.—
He had always, apparently, led a life ol
spoiltss purity, alas, it did not occur to
my credulous mind, that this priest
was a pillar and support of that vile sys
tem of abomination under which the
world has groaned for centuries, that he
was a lineal descendant of that indefati
gable persecutor* of protestants in the
reign of Louis the Fourteenth. It was
with great reluctance that I agreed lu
this arrangement—a dark foreboding ol
evil pressed heavily upon my spirit—hut
upon the urgent solicitation of my par
ents, brothers and sisters, I at length
! gave my consent, and accompanied my
j lather to Fontainebleau.
“‘W’ith w hat restless anxiety I awaited
the priest’s return, Heaven only knows.
| At last he caine, and with him came the
destruction of my happiness and hopes,
As with the lightning stroke, were my
fond antic ipulious blasted forever. I
learned frnrn the priest that my wife had
died some weeks previous to his arrival,
a victim of the cholera.
“ ‘The priest endeavored to comfort
me, but 1 turned away a changed man i
from a cheerful, geuerous nature, I had
become a sordid and gloomy misaie
. thrope; the world was before me, a
' blank; 1 had nothing to live for but mote
, eyj for this I madly rushed into the
i whirl of business; riches increased, bul
’ wealth sufficed not to fill the void in my
breast.
**1 Y**.-irs nsssed: I had buried m\
lather, and at length was called to the
’ death-bed of niv mother.
1 “ ‘She requested to be lell alone will
me.
•“ ‘My son,' said she, ‘there is one ac
1 of my life that gives me mexpressibh
pain. You have been wronged—rifeeptj
'• cruelly wronged, and I fear irreparably
! Forgive, O forgive an erring mother!’
“ ‘Site then proceeded to disclose t
plot, so diabolical, that it seemed as if i
could have emauated from none othe
than the arch-fiend himself. The priest
inlead of going to New-Orleans, remain
’ ed concealed at home, and while i, lb
' miserable dupe of u fanatical* religion
j __ ______
♦Chancellor Tellier, well knewil m wo of the ki»«
chief advisers, who hod ltm( been isaolveJ upuu desire]
ing Henry the Fourth'# celehioted edict of Nanis, whic
secured Ute Huguenots many epeciel privlegee. After 0
revocation, tie refused hie official seel, eeying that I
• wished that ip be the Uet act of hia lMe--profolnty at
dmg, ‘Lord now leltest thou thy servant depart in peace
1 Strangely enough, he did dig within ten days after eee
r ing the edict of revocation.” So blood thiety auderu
I eras itie disposition, iltat Count ds Gramuiout said <
him, "I picture to myself a beast of prey, licking h
jaws eliil stained with blood.”
i M mourning the irrepairable lorn I had
; sustained, they were piously laughing in
- their sleeves at the successful termination
of their hellish project. Horror strick
- en, 1 turned from that bedside without
one answering word, to meet my family
relations whom I disowned, and before
their face cursed them, yes, and the
church.
‘Seizing a dagger I rushed to the
priest's house, but fortunately for him
the vile miscreant had concealed himself.
'"Without stopping I embarked for
New Orleans, only to learn that my wife
hail been dead for years—further than
this, all was involved in impenatrable
darkness. 1 returned a victim of mel
ancholy, which would have ended my
weary life, had it not pleased kind Provi
dence, hi a measure to heal the wound,
which can never be wholly cured while
memory retains her throne.’
“When Dc-Laiubert concluded, I re
lated to him the somewhat eventful
scenes of our lile. ‘Such generosity,
my dear children.’ he exclaimed, when 1
told him, of our release from bondage,
‘shall not go unrewarded. Seek your
benefactor; if lie he one of fortune’s
favored sons, extedd to him a grateful
lather’s thanks; hut if otherwise, tell
him that 1 have enough for him ami you,
of w hich he must share.’
i nave uuiic uiy urruuu, my uear Ufa*
li, now I propose that you enter into
partnership on equal terms with myself."
Lesli attempted to express his thunk*
but was interrupted by Williani.
“Nay, no thanks, for he assured, we
shall never consider as cancelled the debt
of gratitude we owe to you. Life, prop
erly, my dear family, all, but for you,
would never, never have been my happy
lot. Believe me, my dear sir, I shall still
deem myself yourjdebtor.”
JUisrriianroHs.
REMIHI8CEHCES OF A HUHTSMAN4
ii- "perverse farmer) rented the
park and every inch of land around the
covers. Not content with shooting fair
iy, on finding that lie. himself, could hit
nothing iu motion, 1 have seen him stop
his plough when the pheasants, in line,
had been following the furrow to pick up
insects, or anything, he turned up, and,
resting his gun on the stilts, fire among
them, killing and wounding at one shot,
a considerable number. Much conduct
as this was not likely to be tolerated by
us, and I set my wits to work to lie even
with him. A considerable flock of sheep
of his being in the park, while lie was iu
church one Sunday my brother Moretwi
and myself captured the bellman of the
flock, and with about six feet of whipcord
fastened a dead rook to his tail, and then
let him go. Away he went after the
Aock, who, while we were thus tailing
their leader, had collected and were stand
ing some way off gazing at us. As soon
as they saw him coming at best pace,
with what seemed to be a little black dog
after him, away they went and round and
round the park the chare continued, the
the bellman, haunted by the rook, grega
riously purstfing, with Ins friends all fly
ing his presence because of the thing he
brought behind him. Ditch after ditch
at length were full of sheep that in their
terror had become cast on their backs,
and the bellman, a stout, bhck-fxced
Southdown, was reduced to a trot. All
at once he seemed resolved to face his
pursuer ; and, having no wind for further
flight, and not much of a flock left to run
after, old woolly-sides turned to bay,
and making a dead halt, and facing alioul
he brought the rook within about three
feet of his nose. There he stood stamp
ing at his foe aud panting ; the heaving
of his sides making the rook appear to
pant too. The bellman having caught
his wind, seeing his pursuer was small,
resolved to charge ; and for that purpose,
after the manner of his kind, he hacked
from the rook to gain a little space, upon
which, of course, his enemy made a
steady and corresponding advance. This
was more than any sheep's heart could
stand : and awav the bellman went uL’air.
till distress once more brought him up.—
Several tunes was this ludicrous scene re
peated ; and by our laughter iny brothel
1 and myself were almost as tender as the
farmer's bunted mutton. Church service
being nearly concluded, we severed the
wool from the feathers, and tried to atone
for our fun by attending tlie afternoon
lesson.
A SOttT OF BULL IN A CHINA SIIOF.
Another instance Worth ramurkiug oc
' curred at Lady Mary Hussey's, who lived
uear Hillingdon. A stag, quite fresh.
! and of Avliom the hounds had suddenly
, obtained a view, canie tearing along uip
der the garden wall, among the shrubs
• till he found himself in contact with i
’ bay windowi through this he went, will
* two or throe hounds each side of him
, and instead of going out at the oilier aids
i- of the window, he turned and ran to tin
' further end ol the drawing room, in whicl
'■ I believe Lady Mary Hussey and othei
'! ladies were seated. It was enough it
, bsve scared a man, and thia sudden crssl
and furious apparition of course had i
A
startling effect on the ladies. Seeing ih
tuisehiel tu the window, 1 wus oil in
hurse linin' dintely, cap in hand, to inuK
a thousand apologies ; hut tny first uc
i was to get the slug out, and prevent lur
ther damage. On entering tile druwm;
room, alas! I found the hue lay througl
a conservatory; hut when I gained tin
locality of the stag, the following seem
presto led itself: The stag, wet and blood]
Iroma lew (not serious) scratches by tin
glass hail Ins muddy haunches against
and plastering, the wainscot, while occa
sunnily he rubbed bis antlers, to kcej
them in a condition for war. on a malm
any table, making considerable ditches it
it, while at the same time whenever twi
or three Imuuds, who were buying him
from beneath the sofas and chairs, ap
proached two near lie made furiousdashe:
at them, upsetting everything in his way
On one side of the room, and staring ov
er the top of it, was a servant, or one o
my ficlj, 1 forget which, behind some an
cestral portrait, with the face «l the pic
ture to the slag, which lie had taken down
to serve as n shield, while the window
frame had been driven in with such force
that as it stood there was no getting I lie
deer out that way- In the midst ol ituli
ami expecting more hounds at the win
dow, unless my brother and Henry
Woiubwell were quick in getting them
away, 1 was almost at my wits end ;
however, calling on the spectator, who
w.is parading the picture, Ibr heaven's
suke, at least, to turn it the other way,
in me nrsi tiling me anct-sir.ii counte
nance would have would he the horns ,ol
the slag through it, in motion as llie bear
er kept it 1 caught the hounds mid led
them out. The stag being quirt, and
having sent all sorts of apologies up to
Lady Mary, I reported that the state ol
the window Would not admit of the slug's
egress, unless 1 was perinited to enlarge
the aperture, while, at the same time
fresh and powerful as ill- stag was, it
would lie dangerous to attempt to lead
him through the conservatory. The re
ply to my apologies anil m this report
was llie best iiatured and kind that could
be. She said, “She did not in the least
care f<ir the accident, that 1 could not
help it, and if necessary 1 was to enlarge
the fracture in the window us much as
I pleased,’ the only stipulation being linn
“when llie stag regained his liberty, the
hounds were to be laid on the lawn, that
she ipi|rht ifoe llo-iii niimimr.” IJuviue
gaged my sporting friend Iroui the ances
tral picture, and placed it in safety, we
knocked away the slaiichous of the win
dow sufficiently to let the deer through,
and having borrowed u door from the
offices by way of more filling shield, 1
got the stag out, and laid the hounds on
at the window.
The chase, particularly when a deet
by being housed, had learned there was
safety in it, frequently ended in mansions
cottages, or barns, and I cannot help su>
ing that in almost every instance I met
wiilt the greatest go .d nature. O i one
of these occasions, we run up to the en
trance ofu gentleman's kitchen, in tin
rear of his premises, and the hounds bay
ed in the closed door. Heads of domes
tics through the pantry window informed
me that the stag was in the house, and
that they would admit me, “if 1 would
keep the dogs out as the children were
afraid ol them.” The door bring open
ed and closed carefully behind me, I
went in, ushered by a butler, and peeped
at by many maids; ami, on asking when
the stag was, the butler replied ti.at In
h id been in all the lower offie.es, uml
when lie last saw him he was going u|
llie drawing room stairs. On asking foi
the master and mistress, the tnan replied
“Ins master had gone up after the stag
and that his mistress was hut poorly.”—
The butler introduced me to llie drawing
room, but neither master nor stag were n
it, when at llnil moment a dour at tin
other eud opened, and the owner of th.
house came in, under li-iblc. fhotigl
suppressed excitement. 1 heg m all sum
of apologies, us usual, and l or a tiioueu
the gentleman was civil enough ; but oi
my asking whne the lady was, all re
straint gave way, and in a lury he re
plied :—“Your stag, sir, not content will
walking through every office, has licet
here, sir, here in my drawing-room, sir
whence he proceeded up stairs to the ion
sery, and damn me, sir, he's now in Mrs
-'s boudoir.” All l could say wa
that 1 was very sorry ; and I asked win
I was to do.” lie left me m the dr i
ing-room for a few minutes, and thei
called me to follow him, and llie stag wu
in a passage at the lop ofu backstairs.—
The deer got down again into the- uffice
where he was sufely secured.
Graiumite Puoui: u.—Cut up fou
laths in a peck of saw-dust. When wel
mixed, hake it by placing a napkin con
tainiag it, in the sun for half an liour.
Serve up with sauce made by soaking
cedar shingle in a pail of well-water,
A Speck of Invasion. A storv is gc
in the rounds that the Allied Power:
including Austria, have entered into
Coalition lo check the progress ot tli
country. It is said that the illustriou
Dan Sickles carries in bis breeches pnc!
el documentary proof of this coalition. I
is remarkable that the wicked Allieasu
fered Daniel to leave for home unim
tested. Some of our cotempnrsries si
becoming quite alarmed at the pruspei
of an Allied itivasatioii.
> Agriculture, like the leader of Israe
i strikes the rock—the waters flow, at:
i the famished people are satisfied
1 Suffering of the Allied Force*.
1 The following extract of a letter from
| a subaltern of the English Army in the
. Crimes, gives some ides of the null ru^j
■ endured by the troops of the Allied Ai
| my:—
The pain, the torture, ns 1 may confi
dently cull it, which we are obliged to un
dergo is inhuman. In cur turn, the reg
iment is ordered to guiud the trenches, in
silence. Before dawn the poor fellow*
are hurried out of iheir tents, who, rising
from the here ground u|iou which they
have lain since the commencement of the
siege, not daring to uudiess, try to drug
their wearied limbs across the ground,
exposed to the fire ol the Russian batter
lies, la the trendies we fat, not during
(when once daylight appear-) to lilt our
heads erect, if we want to shift, while
thousands ol cannon shot strike the
earth which we have thrown up ; occa
sionally a shell drops inside of the trench;
when it hursts is sure to down some one;
I in these trenches we have to lay saint
i times ill— yea. 4^ hours together—wiili
oiit being relieved, while, perhaps, the
Irani is coming down and the cold winds
I blowing. Tite day before yesterday we
I went out ns usual to the trenches, and
| wind blowing tremendous ; there we had
ito lay exposed to all this, Just fancy to
j yourself the misery endured. iSeverai
of our men so ill through it that they
li st their feeling jour hospitals are crowd
I ru w im iiiru »nu coni|Huiii ui
I which gives rise to bowel complaints.—
j Really the thoughts ol’ what 1 have cu
idured makes me shudder with horror—
the sufferings of wa-fare are justly next
to hell. The wet season is coming on ,
we hnve had some days as cold as any
| winter's day in England ; our limbs am
tottering beneath us ; our supply of bis*
cuit small ; we have no vegetables or nee.
If something is not dune before long yyt*
shall he dead
‘BOYS WANTED ’
What are we to do for hoys? When
we were a boy, there were lots of boys ;
but they have gradually grown scarce,
until now there is hardly a boy left. As
we walk through the streets we read in
shop windows, 'Boys Wanted.' When
we pick up a newspaper, the first adver
{tisciiieut that strikes our eye is, 'A Hoy
Wanted.' In a word, everybody wauts
.Now, in view ol tins great scarcity «>t
hots, nhat are we lo do ? What shall
we do lor a substitute to light our liret,
sweep our offices, run our errands '<
The other day a linle fellow about
fourteen years of age (begging his par
don. we took him lor a hoy) applied tu
us fur a situation.
‘Wlrst can you do !’ we inquired.
‘A little ol almost everything.'was the
reply.
•Are you quick at errands?’
•Well, sir I doul much like to do er
rands.’
•Can you sweep and dust well ?'
‘Why. sir, young men don’t sweep any
now-U’days. The women iolks hare
monopolized that branch of business, it
isn’t'—
lie was going on in say, sweeping isn't
genteel but lie hesitated to stale Ins con
viction.
•llow will you make yourself useful ?’
•Why, I’ll-sit in the office and answer
questions w hen you are out.’
‘And how much do you ask for this
service ?’
•In the neighborhood, sir, ol three dol
lars.’
•In the neighborhood V
•Yes, sir.’
‘What do you mean by neighborhood?’
•Simply three dollars, sir,— a lulls
more or le.s.’
•And you can neither sweep nor run
errands (’
’O, [a little vexed] 1 could hut’
‘But what s’
•/1 amt exactly the thing.’
• Yet at your age we
,StK,’ said he, picking up his hat and
striding towards the door, ‘you Don t
TAKE ME YOU A IIOY, DO Volt (’
Amused, but not astonished, we a.-kt-d
ourself’the question, Wliul are we l.t
; do for Boys !
If some enterprising Yankee would
! undertake to get iqi a lot of boys, tin
i could make a large fortune in a short
• lime, for never, within our recu!ecinmx
have hoys been in such demand.
1 u years agoi-e halters used to adver*
1 tise hats for boys. Now it is hats loy
young gentlemen. Then there were
schools b.r hoys—lailofs lor hoys— sports
of all kinds for hoys. Rotas the race
ol hoys ran out, young geiilluimu took
r tneir puces.
I Have »e a Bor among us ’—that's
. the i|uustiou.
Circassian Spares.—The Suliau Us by
a tirin :t[i prohibited the sale of Circassian
ami (jeurgian females and all tin) the for
eign slave trade. The Viceroy ol Egypt
" | has done the mime. The iiiuuntsmeera
' I have now no other market for their fair
1 daughters than Persia, and perhaps the
9 iniusioii of Circassian blood which has
9 kept up the energies of tint Ottoman
race, may regenerate the efTt'iniliaiefWs
sians, who teem indeed past redemption.
'• Matrimonial. An old geuilemau agsd
* 05 years, was married a few days ago, in
d Kunx county, Indiana. to his sixth wife,
and he has only married 8v« wniueu.v
His 6r*t wife is hi* last, and she is W>
, iu her 40th year. She has beeawsrfWd
d three times, and her Ant husband it hef
hull husband,