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A. A. EAKLE, PUBLISHER.) 2J"o More Compromise witli Slo, vory. TERMS, 81,25 IX ADVANCE. VOLUME 1. IRASBURGII, VERMONT, FRIDAY, MAY 16, 1856. NUMBER 20. itcrarij Selections. THE PEASANTS COT. A THRILLING STORT. On my last voyage to Bristol, the owners of the ship took passage with me. The whole cargo belonged to them, and they not only wished to do some business in England, but they also had a desire to travel some. Besides the three owners, I had four passengers ia the cabin. The passage from New York to England on that occasion was the most severe and irtormy I ever made. I had experienced heavier storms, but never such continued Lard weather. The old ship was on a strain the whole of the time, and though X run her in:o Avon without losing a life er an important spar, yet she had re ceived much damage. Her mainmast was sprung, her rudder damaged, her tim bers strained, and for the last week the pomps had to be kept going all the time, owners, passengers, officers and all doing their share of work at the brakes. As soon as we could get the cargo out. the ship was hauled into the dock for re pairs, and we found, upon examination, that it would be a week before she could fit for sea, and if slie had all the repairs which she absolutely neened,it would take her nearer two weeks. A contract was made for the job and one of the owners agreed to stay by and superintend the work. This left me at liberty, and I be gan to look about me for some place to "visit, I had heard much of Salisbury Plain. The famous Stone-henge was there, and so were three other relies of Roman and British antiquities. Accord ingly to Salisbury Plain I resolve J to go. When I went on board the ship to make arrangements with the owner who had remained there, I found one of the pas sengers just leaving. His name was Nathan Leeman. He was a young man? Dot more than thirty years of age, and I supposed him, from his features and idiom, to be an Englishman. I told him I was going to Salisbury, and he informed me that he was going the same war. 'Leeman had been intending to take the 'stage to Devizes, and thence to take some of the cross coaches ; but I had resolved to lake a horse and travel where, and how, and when I pleased, and he liked the plan -so well that he went immediately and bo't him a good horse and saddle. It was about the middle of the forenoon -when we set out, and I found that Leeman intended to visit the curiosities with me, and then keep on towards London, by the way of Andover and Chertsey, he .having sent his baggage on ahead to -Salisbury by the great mail roate, which ran many miles out of the way. I found any companion excellent company, and on the way he told me some passages from his own life. He was born in England, but this was the first time he had been in ' the kingdom since he was fourteen years of age, and I was led to infer that at that time he ran away from his pa rents. During the last six years of his residence in the United States he had been engaged in Western land specula tions, and he now was independently rich. We took dinner at Bradford, a large -.manufacturing town, six miles southeast of Bath, and as soon as our horses were rested we set out again. Towards the middle of the afternoon the sky began to grow overcast, and we had promise of a storm. By five o'clock the great black -clouds were piled up in heavy masses, and it began to thunder. At Warminis- ter we had token the direct road for Amesbury, a distance of fourteen miles. And when this storm had closed upon us we were about half way between the two places. I was in no particular hurry, and as I had no desire to get wet, I pro gosed that we should stop at the first iplace we came to. In a few moments more we came to a point where a small cross road turned off to the right, and where a guide-board said it was five miles to Deptford inn. I proposed that we should turn into this y-y and make (or Deptford inn as last as possible and my companion readiy -consented. We had gone a mile when . the great drops of rain began to fall ; but gWi iui lune wouw have it, we espied a smaii cottage, not more than a furW ahead, through a clump of poplars. Vi, made for this place, and reached it before - we got wet. There was a good sized barn on the premises, and a long sheep bed connected it with the house Be ts eat h this shed we drove, and just as we -alighted, an old man came out. We told him that we had got caught in a storm, aad aaked him if he could accommodate 3 over night. He told us we should W the bet his humble plase could af ford, and that if we would put up with that we should be welcome. As soon as the horses were taken care of, we followed the old man into the house, He was a grey-headed man, certainly on paid the doctor. You know he was to the down hill side of three score, and his have earned the rent if he had been form was bent by hard work. His coun- well." termnee was naturally kind and benevo- "I don't know anything about it," re lent, but there were other marks upon his turned the landlord doggedly for Mr. brow than those of old age. The moment Vaughan owned the little farm, it after I saw him I knew he had seen much of wards appeared. "All I know is, that suffering. It was a neat room to which you have had the house and land, and we were led, a living room, but yet free that for two whole years you haven't paid from dirt and clutter. An old woman me a penny. Yau know I told you a was just building a fire far-supper, and as4onth ago that you should have just one ' . . . - 1 , t "I . we entered she arose from her work "Some travelers, wife, caught in the shower," said the old man "Surely, gentlemen, you're welcome," the woman said, in a tone so mild and free, that I knew she spoke only the feel nigs of her souL "It's poor fare we can o - t - give ye, but the heart of the giver must tnn1. .... C . 1. 1 e'en make up for that' r Ithankpd th crnnA iwmlo onA trAA l.orv. I'-'-J l IV.U I would pay them well for all they did for us. "Speak not of pay," said the woman taking her tea-kettle from the hob, and hanging it upon the crane. "Stop, wife," uttered the old man trem ulously. "Let not your heart run away with ye. If the good gentlemen have to D&re ont o their ahmid.mp. if Snwrnu not such sufferers as we to refuse the bounty." I saw the worn an place her apron to her eyes but she made no reply. The door, close by the fireplace, stood partly open, and I saw in the room beyond, a bed, and I was sure there was some one in it. I asked the old man if he had sickness. "Yes," he said, with a shake of the head. "Sly poor boy has been sick a long while. He's the only child I have the only helper on the little farm and he's been sick now all the spring and sum mer. I've taken care of the sheep, but I couldn't plant. It's hard, but we don't despair. My good wife God bless her shares the trial with me, and I think she takes the biggest share." "No, no, John, don't say so," uttered the wife. "No woman could do the work vou do." "I don't mean to tell too much, Mar garet, only you know you've kept me up." A call from the sick room took the wife away, and the old man then began to tell me, in answer to my questions, some of the peculiarities of the great Plain, for we were on it now; and I found him well informed and intelligent At length the table was set out, the clean white cloth spread, and we were invited to sit up. We had excellent white bread, sweet but ter, some fine stewed damsons, and a cap ital cup of tea. There was no excuse, no apologies only food set before us, and we were urged to help ourselves. While we were eating, the rain ceased falling, but the weather was by no means clear, tho' just as we moved from the table a gleam of golden light shot through the window from the setting sun. It may have been a half an hour after this it was not more than that when a wagon drove up to the door, in whieh were two men. The old man just come in from the barn, and it was not so dark, but we could see the faces of the men in the wagon. They were middle aged men, one of them habited in a sort of jockey hunting garb, and the other dressed in black clothes, with that peculiar style of hat and cravat vtiloli morln c " UM A3 tilO i i 1 1 C 1 I turned towards our host for the pur pose of asking if he knew the new comers, and I saw he was very pale and trem bling. A low. deep groan escaped him, and in a moment more his wife moved to his side and put her arm about his neck. She had been trembling, but that groan of her husband s seemed to call her to herself. Minn t tuni .Inhn " ...f.l " 1 . .-i sin; eumy eaiu. They can't take away our love, nor our souls. Cheer up Illbe a support to ye, John, when all else k goneJ A tear rolled do wa the old man's cheek but when another started he wiped it away, and having kissed h.s wife, he arose from t-: - 1 t a . t .1 tered. He in the jockey coat came first and his eyes rested upon Leeman and myself! 'Only some travelers, Mr. Vaughan," said our host, C. If- t , ... . jujt. augnan turned his gaze else- whereabout the room, and at length was fixed upon the Id man. "Well," said he, "what about the rent viu ue,-wtiat about the rentr Ve havn't a penny of it yet, sir," an- swered the host, trembling. Not a penny! TW kowH vou uav H5tw7 ptnasdj?" "Twenty pounds ! murmured the old man, painfully. "Alas ! I cannot pay it. You know Walter has been long sick, and every penny I could earn has been more to pay me. That month was up ast night Can you pay me ?" "Xo! no! O, God knows I can't" "Then you must leave the house." "When ?" "To-night P "You do not mean that. You will not turn us out 50 quickly as O i l f nnAn t..- t "Out upon your prating ! What do you i 1 o - j I mean bv that ? Yon had nntiro a mnniU I " ! 1 1 I 1 1 a2- How lonS a notice do you suppose give ? I you havn't had time in a month to mve, then you must look out for the consequences. To-night you move ! If you want a shelter you may go into the old house at the horse pond." "But there is not a window in it." "Beggars shouldn't be choosers," re marked Mr. Vaughan. "If it hadn't been for nuntinS UP the officer, I should have I I 1 . T - . . . been here this morning. But tain't my fault. Now I can have a good tenant right off, and he wants the house to-mor row. So there is not a word t he cQ;.i I shall take your two cows, and your iheep and if they go for more than twenty pounds after taking out the expenses, vou shall have the balance back." The poor peasant gazed for a moment half wildly, into the landlord's face and then sank into a chair, and covered his face with his hands. "My cows ! my sheep P he groaned. spasmodically. "O, kill me and have done with it ' "In God's name, Mr. Vaughan ," cried the wife, "Spare us them. We will leave the cot, and we will work with all our might until we pay you every farthine. but do not take away our very means of life. My poor boy will die ! O, you are rich, and we are poor P "Nonsense !" uttered this unfeelins man. "I'm used to such stuff. I make a living by renting my farms, and this farm is one of the best I have. A good man can lay up more than ten pounds a year here." "But we have been sick," urged the woman. "That isn't my fault If you are pau pers, you know where to go to get taken care of. Now I don't want another word Out you go, to-night, unless you pay me the twenty pounds, and your cows and sheep go to." I was just upon the point of turning to my companion to ask him if he would not help me to make up the sum. for I wa determined that the poor folks should not be turned out thus. The woman had sunk down, and she too, had covered her face with her hands. At that moment Nathan Leeman sprang to his feet His face was very pale, and for the first time I saw that tears had been running down his cheeks. "Look ye sir," he said to Vauzhan, "how much do these people owe you r" '1 wenty younds," returned he, re-rard- ing his interlocutor sharply. - 111 year. "And when did this amount come due "It is due just one month aro. The rent is twelve pounds, but I allowed him four pounds for building a bridge over the river." "Show me the bill." The man pulled out a large leather pocket book, from it took a bill. It was receipted. Leeman took out his purse and counted out twenty golden sovereigns! He handed them to the landlord, and took ..... I Jje lli. "I believe that settles the matter sir," Ly companion said, exerting all his power to appear calm. "Ye, sir" Kfnmiuf Tanan - first the money, to see if he was in earnest f ' and turn ins to the window to se if th sold was Dure. Y. v - ,0, -This makes it all right" "Then I suppose we can remain here undisturbed. But I have DO nrpt'r fnr anv rxr fnw. ' J "V the future. A month has already run on it fan unpaid term.' "It is right you should hare your pay, surely. Come to-morrow, sir, and I will arrange it with jouy-only leave us now." Mr. Vaughan cast one more glance ! about tha room, hnt with .r.v; I further left, and tls ccv hj to fol low him, without Laving done anything to eam a fee. As soon as they were gone the old man started to b,'s feet. "Sir," he uttered, turning towards Lee man, "what means this ? Do you think I can ever pay .'ou back, again?" "Sometime you can," r tdrned my com panion. Yes yes, John, said the wife, "some time we shall surely pay him." "Alas! when?" "Any time within a month will answer," said Leeman. Both the old people looked aghast. HDh! you have orV. planted more misery for us, kind sir," cried the old man. "We could have borne to be stripped of our goods by the landlord, better than we can bear to rob a noble friend. You must take our stock our cows and sheep ! "But not yet," resumed Leeman. "I have another way. Listen : Once you had a boy a wild, reckless, wayward child." 4Yes murmured the old man. "And what became of him ?" For some moments the father was silent but at length said : "Alas ! he fled from home long years ago. One night we then livtd far off here in Northamptonshire nay boy join ed with a lot of other youths,most of them older than himself, and went into the park of Sir Thomas Boyle and carried away two deer. He was detected, and to es cape punishment, he fled, aid I have not seen him since. But Sir Thomas would not have punished hiir,for he told me so afterwards." "And tell me, John Leeman, did you never hear from that boy?" "Never !" answered the old man. As soon as I heard my companion pro nounce the old man's name, the truth flashed upon me in an instant; and I was not alone in the conviction. The quick heart of the mother had caught the spark of hope and love. At that moment the fire upon the hearth blazed up, and as light poured into the room, my compan ion's face was fully revealed. The wo man arose and walked towards him. She laid her hand upon his head, and trembling she whispered : "For the love of heaven don't deceive me. But speak to me let me call you Nathan Nathan Leeman f "And I should answer, for that is my name P spoke the man starting up. "And what would you call me Y" the woman gasped. "Mr 31 other P The fire gleamed more brightly upon the hearth, and I saw that aged woman upon the bosom of her long lost boy. and then I saw the father totter and join them and heard murmured words of blessing and of joy. I arose and slipped out of the room and went to the barn ; when I got there I took out my handker chief and wiped the tears from my cheeks. It was an hour before I returned, and then I found all calm and serene, save that the mother was still weeping, for the head of her returned boy was resting upon her shoulder, and her arm was about his neck. Nathan arose as I en tered, and with a smile he bade me be seated. "You know all, as well as I can tell you," said he. "When we first stopped here I had no idea of finding my parents here, for when I went away, sixteen years ago, I left them in Kingstbrope, upon the Ken. I knew them, of course, but I wished them to see if they would know me. But from fourteen to thirty is a changing period. "I think God sent me here," he added in a lower tone, "for only think what curious circumstances had combined to bring me to this cot." It did truly seem as though some power higher than our own had brought this all about. But at all events, there was a higher power thought of that night be neath the peasant's humble cot, for God was praised again and again. On the following morning, I resumed my journey alone, but had to promise that I would surely call there again on my return. I went to Salisbury, from thence to Winchesterand thence to Ports mouth, to see the great ships of war. I returned to the cot in eight days, and spent a night there. Money possessed some strange chasms, for it had not only given to the poor peasant a sure home for the rest of his life, but it had brought health back to the sick boy. An experienced physician from Salisbury had visited him, and he was now able to be about I re mained long enough to know that an earthly heaven had grown up in that earthly cot Nathan Leeman told me that he had over a hundred thousand dol lars, and that he should take his parents and brother to tome luxurious home when he ooald fiae one to his twt. That was some years ago. I have re ceived some letters from Leeman since. and he is settled down in the suburbs of .1 I 1 1 I uiuuiuiu, vii uhiiivs 01 uie lower Avon.i here he has hoturl.t lnr. shr ; ... ri f ihn wu r. . that Wn.l T .m j .rirms tnrougn ine wi,o!e route, ami never promise to visit him if I vr in Fn land ar.iin. T) titit A T IT A "DT T T4 wm Annnn ItiJlAKlLIiLi. BAND OF ROB- BERS. One of the incidents which throw most light upon the internal condition of t ranee, during the interval between the Reign of Terror and the Consulate, was the trial of the " Chuuffeurs." The Cnauneurs were a numerous band of roooers wuo mtested a Iare trart of L I . . country in the region of Chartres. Thev o I derived their name, which signifies heat ers, or fire kindlers, from their practice of torturing their prisoners with fire. Their a - v. . 1 . robberies were conducted in ten svsfpmnt j....u,,, a manner that it was found almost impos- sible to arrest any of their party. They would surround lonely farm-houses in numbers too large for resistance, and af- ter binding the males, oblige the females, 1 J 1 . . by fire applied to their feet, to reveal all I the treasures of their family. From the evident skill with which all their pro ceedings were conducted, it was inferred by the police that they formed a grand confederacy, and obeyed some central au thority. But for a long time nothing fur ther could be found to confirm their sus picions. One day, however, as two gendarms were crossing a portion of the forest of Orgeres, they met a boy about ten years of age ; the singularity of costume exci ted their curiosity. They carried him to a neighboring town, and with a good breakfast and a glass of wine, soon ob tained his confidence. He told them he lived with his father and mother and many other families, in a vast cavern in the forest, and that many men were in the habit of coming there occasionally, bringing with them provisions, clothes, plate and other valuables. Here was a discovery. The head quarters of the Chauffeurs were revealed at last and the police lost no time in taking advantage of their newly acquired knowledge. They decided that it would not be well to attack the cavern immediately, for this would result only in the seizure of those few who might be within at the time. It was thought best to first arrest the out door brigands by means of the child, and to reserve the cavern for the last The boy, whom they called Fiufin, was accord ingly disguised by a suit of good clothes, and under the care of a good woman who acted as his nurse, was placed in the mar ket squares of those towns where it was supposed the brigands would be likely to sell their stolen property. Whenever he saw a familiar face he would give a siri. and the rwrsrn nAfntA .1.1 l . : diately arrested. At length one hundred r -.uu.uiu nuum uc IIUIUC- . and twelve of the robbers were captured in this manner, and the trials commenced. It resulted in the conviction, condemna tion and execution of all of them. It was subsequently discovered that the cavern, or rather the collection of caverns, from which Finfin 1,1 .11 was nothing less than one of the quarries which had in former years fornix th, which had in former years furnished tli stone for the magnificent cathedral of Chartres, and was situated in the least accessible portion of the forest. Here a colony of malefactors, male and female, had been founded, which gradually grew from a petty band of thieves into an or ganized army of desperadoes. Like tl Indian association of the Thugs, it had ie government, laws and police, adapted government, laws and police, adapted to the profession of ifs members. It had mm.mn,in,. ; :.... r correspondents in various parts of the country who indicated the dwellings most favorable for attack, and an executive head which planned and ordered the ex peditions. The execution of so large a portion , . . the company, and the discovery of their retreat caused the dispersion of the re- UI maining members and the gang was ne . V - . , . , . f r '"'I existence of one of tin; ma. i-i-murl !. . bands of robbers which have exUted in modern times. C3 Decency is a matter of latitude. In Turkey, a man with tight panu on, is considered so great a vulgarian that he io 'A . . .1 considered so great a vulgarian that he U not toierated ,n society. To spit in the presence of an Arab u to make the c ouamtance of hm el.j-.l t.;r.. i r... I . -v. u,Uoa, j Ms, that man w considered low who re-1 You didn't notice a dark-eyed youth at fue a warm breakfast r.f fru.l .ar.I'j 1 1...-....... .1 . . " - " . r jrcucr-aay 10 receive , wiu ami iiie nre, as the heat ot the hre In this country, vulgar people are such; ten year in the Sute 1'rUou for forgery, j will draw ti infectious vajKir in that di m keep good hour, and live within their j O no, you didn't notice ; aud twoceuu' j recUon, and you would run much dnsSw ,OCrra- v,fnh r kindnCM, two wW worth of aid ' from bribing b it Y'Tfm Life IHustnted I DLDFT NOTICE. No, you didn't. And so you let that . . . .. 'X)or woman, vt-hn intimAi.d.1 witl. -ah ' ' - "le car3 .v. cr,7 er child in he, Pn' . or hold u for her a few --, . . . ( minutes, that she might hnve a little time to rest and refresh herself, hut at witli , ....... VAII. tl.ltxn...) 1 1.: 1 -t ,1 ' V mugimig mm dialling nu the way, as unconcerned about the lmppi-j ness of those around vou as if ih rap hml been freighted with wax figures, w hi!o she, poor womnn, was obliged to travel "'one, with the core of a child. Why uiJ joti not do as you would that others should do unto vou, and put under her burden "one of your fingers" to cheer her ! n weary nenrt.' I didn't notice. No, you didn't. That ittle beggar girl held her bare feet under her tattered frock as well as she could so you shouldn't notice, and she pressed her . . , f 1 t - COV.V IJV I bon v tiiifreps on Imr iir iVM tio w - w j 1 ai.fi own blue, which the great Master painted there, should be dimmed by her tears. When you refused her a bit of bread, and "gave her a stone," "stone cold" reproachful look, which made her ... - . ttle shivering form shrink away under her threadbare shawl, you didn't notice ! You didn't notice that aged man who was walking down Washington Street with tottering steps and a heavy satchel in his hand, when you brushed bv him bo rudely as to knock his staff from him, but let him tremble with his load. Why did you not slacken your pace, and can y his bundle a few blocks, speak to his aged heart a word of cheer, and learn of him, perchance, how look the portals of the u;iv cjuij 111; j. You didn't notice that npnl-woman. - ., . , .,- : ' wnn ner liait-starveu child, who tried to offer you her fruit. You would have no- ticed had she been a "congressman" with 'oranges." Why did you not buy an ap- pie of her and give it to the first ragged boy you met? Did you ever feel and realize two cents' worth of pleasure ? Did you ever see two cents' worth of hopt lighting up a care-worn, sun-burned, wrinkled old face? What a rainbow, that ! Two cents' worth of joy beaming out of the dark eye of that ragged boy, two cent'; worth of eloquence and gratitude flowing from his lips ! What a germ is hidden there ! and how do you know but two cents would have fostered and called into aetion the genius of a Newton or the be nevolence of a Howard ? But you didn't notice. 1 ou rushed on with a dollar over each eye, in a "brown study" how to get two more to make your blindness. You didn't notice. But the bell tolled. and the tired woman laid down her little cherub in the arms of the death angel, for she had no spot on earth where to lav its head, and he flew gently off witli it I through the pearly gates, and placed it on the. downy pillow of Jehovah's love I then she came Lack to her .stone couch y the was,de to await ''is return. But there are guardian angels, transplanting angels, transporting angels, who do notice. And when the seraph choir chanted that mother's welcome to her Father's great house, so full of mansions, wl;n tkey , , WW " Le I'" the babe ngain to sang the jubilant hong of victory ovei ' J" " 'T ' T''e raUle f m'S'y dollar," drowned i . ... . " uiuanuct iiiiuu iii iiiat Heavenly "ex 4 V 1 f ,t . i celsior," and its harmonies were lost to your soul forever! You didn't notice that little bc"ar girl, grown to womanhood, when she came off your marble steps without get tiZ "a place." thonsh vou lm," - c v 0 -e i a reierence at the intelligence office for a f , ... , .-... conJ,,w,, n,ld tIitir faJ, d dr and "'ought she wouldn't do! Disheart seamstress, but your mis did notii.e her eoed, the poor girl turned away, and "uve up the struggle. You didn't noti-e where eoll Uiu; an wtiwi night dropped her sable pall over your great city, he went mil. nun.. t ;...! . i VI11 Mtn ft!..? ' II J -Vj rou it up, ana i.:.i . , . .-. .., . uceaoyyoui l loll lluln'l rir.tiv an ,',. A I a" n 'M. who died ut .1... 1......1 1. . 1 . r . , lJlc nun; 1 iat uigni irorn anxiety un j over-exertion, in vulnlv tr. t., I ' v J o out and rescue a long Ion" lewt hiu"litc- in a large cily! But the archangel wij lou didn't notice an old apple-woma ..ni nr. .. ........I. " 1 I ' -" . I'JI PI UIUUIUS 1; tl J Ue Bto!! ft Joaf ,0 . Up ,rofn starrinfc but , Wonderful reformer, wonderful reforma ! . and advice did not save him 1 What fortune would that two cents have hem to his widowed, broken-hearted mother had you, on a certain time, invested it in the golden rule, and put it on interest for her ! You didn't notiji. Wpll im nn !,,.,. . . fc ,,,, jiife without noticing anything but gold and vour own pmiiintiiMi on.J citi - . HIVB .VM t?.lf11l I B .... 1 .1 .11 I i guuu-ii uoimr on which to fix your stare a gou.en pilow fQ die on : a colden coffin to inonlili i- u n .1 u ; j an gohlen teure to spangle your monu- inent ; but we fear you will have to wait lorg for a golden crown upon your head and a golden harp iu"yotuv-hand in the world to come ! Topst. A DYING MOTHER'S LOVE. The plague broke out in a little Ital ian village. In one house the children were taken first the parents watched over them but only caught the disease which they themselves could not cure. TI10 whole family died. On the opposite side of the way lived the family of a laborer, who was absent the whole week, only coming on Saturday nights to bring his scanty earnings. His wife felt herself attacked by tho fever in the night ; in the morning she was worse, and heforo night the plague spot showed itself. Shu knew she must die, but as she looked upon her dear little boys, she resolved not to communicate d.-Jith to them. Shu therefore locked the little children in tho room, and snatched her bed clothe, lust they should keep the enntngion behind her, and left the house. She even denied herself the sad pleasure of a hist em- I brace. Oh, think of the heroi,m that ensib!cd her to conquer her feelingi and II she loved to die! Her eldest child saw her from the window. -Good bye, mother," f aid he with his tenderest tone', for he wondered why his mother had left him so strangely. "Good bye, mother," repeated the youngest child, stretching his little hand out of fh. .;n,w ti,,. mother paused, her heart was drawn to- wards her children, and she was cn-the point of turning back ; she struggled hard, while the tears rolled down her cheeks at the sight of her helpless babes j at length she turned from them. Tho children continued to cry "good bye moth er." The sounds pent a thrill of anguiih to her heart; but she pressed on to tho house of those who were to bury her. In two days she died, recommending her husband and children to their care with her last breath. NO GOOD FROM PASSION. " Will putting one's self into a passion mend the matter ?" said a venerable old man to a hoy who had picked up a stona to throw at a du. The dog only baiked at him in play fulness. " Ye, it will mend the matter," said the passionate boy, immediately dashing the stone at the do". The animal thus enraged, sprun" at the boy and bit his leg; while the stone bounded against a shop window and broke a pane of glass. Out ran the shop-keener, and seized the passionate boy, und uiade him pay for the broken pane. The passionate boy had mended tho matter finely, indeed. It was the other day that I siw a little boy fall down, and I khould have helped turn on ins legs again, hut he set up such a bellowing th:;t I left him to himself. that lie might find out whether tLut would mend the matter. Take my word for it, it never did and it never will wend the matter, to get into a passion about it. If the thing be hard to bear when you are culm, it will be harder to hear when you are in anger. If you have met with a los?, you will only increase it, and increase it sadly, ! too, hy being w illing to lose your temper There is something very little minded and eilly in either men or boys, in giving way to suileii paiori. IJu i J 1 " r'. J way to sudJen pu.--iori. Do set yourself Try then to be calm, especially in tri l mng irouijio, anu wiji n trn u cw;,, try t0 U.r ,!,.,,, bJdy, ' 3 J fling trouble)', and when greater one's CiT Do not venture into a siek room if - jyou are in a violent perspiration : for the H I moment your body becomes cold it is in ,. a stale i.eiy to absorb the infection ; nor i . . . . 'vikitaiek oer-on (( f !,. ...r.,. I. ..C " I I ' - ..-. WltlBUI 'Jl a coUlagiou, nature) with an empty .torn- j aeh.nor fallow your ah va. In attend- - 1 '"8 Ir.on, place yourself where :.. j me air pa-ees I rum the uoor or window, to the Ud of the invalid, not between the .. . 1 .... . . ... i