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f 9 AN ORIGINAL TALE. I Written foe the New Kka.1 TWO WOLVES AND A LAMB. BY FRANK J. WEBB. A-ITHoR or "TBE CARRIES." Copyright Sfouml. "(Jus. who wore those three young ladies t< whom you bowed so graciously as we drove through the Bois de Boulogne this evening?' (?us deigned me no reply, but eyed lovingly a morsel of cotelet he held exalted upon tin point of his fork, as though he would firsl thoroughly enjoy the sense of sight ere that o taste was gratilied. " 1 say. do you hear me. Gus?" 1 repeated impatiently. (ius, who continued to eye the mutton, re marked, vaguely : "'Ton honor, 'tis too had ; this cotelet i; decidedly overdone?too brown entirely ; it i: a burning shame that in an establishment likt this a cook should be employed capable of sue! an atrocity. Now, my cook " " Hang your cook !" I interrupted, impa tiently ; " when you are at dinner it seems ini possible to get from you a word or idea no' associated with the food you are consuming Hid you hear my question?" '4 Ves, I did hear you grumbling something about carriage?young ladies?Bois de Bon logne. Pass that claret, please. Tut! this i too bad! the wine is as warm as Mississipp water in July, and quit* as turbid, too. 1 de clare, that vile garcon has been giving it : shake." At this juncture a look of most ineffable dis gust must have overspread my face, for Gu smiled, and resumed : 44 Oh. pardon me. You made some inquir about those girls we met during our drive. All yes, 1 remember. At present, however, 1 an much too hungry to be communicative : betto wait until we have finished dinner. Her comes the omelette soutlette ; there is no tim for chat now : an omelette, you know, must b eaten hot. Let us get through it at once lik men. There is nothing so calculated to pre duec serenity of mind as a steady performaue of ones duties: and I wish to have nothing t reproach myself with on that score. Beside? I will confide to you in the strictest confidenc that 1 am lion-like in my nature?luagnaniiiiou and all :liat sort of thing?yet with a decide prejudice against being disturbed at my meals 1 prefer doing but one thing at a time, espec ally when that thing is dining. 4 Yes,' a Johnson said, 4 1 like to dine.'" Gus was incorrigible, k deemed it pruder for the present to let him alone. It seeine almost unkind to disturb him from what wn evidently so uear his heart; so i sat uuietl whilst he finish.'d his omelette, trilled with portion of the Charlotte Russe, devoured large Marie Louite pear, and not until tf garcon brought in the coffee and we had lighte our cigars did i again venture the questio with which I have commenced my story. We were quite alone in one of the petil salons at Verys, where, after a long drive, w had betaken ourselves for dinner. The amok from our fragrant panetellas was float in dreamily and cloudlike over our heads, whe Gus, arousing. himself with an effort, said : 44 So you are interested in that singular tri whom the Parisians, with their fondness f< soubriquets, have named 4 the Wolves and tl Lamb.' They are countrymen of mine, wl have accompanied their venerable father 1 Paris to dissipate the fortune he has been lncl> enough to accumulate." 4*Are they sisters?" I inquired. 4*,The tall girls are twius ; the other is the cousin. She is as different from them as it possible for a woman to be. The twins ha\ ordinary cultivation and acquirements?at excessively brusque in manner and ecceutri in disposition. Their cousin is a girl of angel: sweetness of temper ; besides she is one of tli most accomplished ladies I have ever me The sole occupation of the Wolves seems t ? be the invention of torments to inflict upo the Lamb, who endures them with a patienc worthy of the name. The present pet weak ness of the Wolves is a disgusting penchan for snakes. But. bv the way, should you lik to know them ?" 44 Of course, I should ; your discription ha aroused my curiosity. One so fascinating, th others so singular. Let me know them by a! means; they will be anything but everyda * acquaintances." 44 Well, then, so be it," rejoined Gus. <4I ai pretty certain we shall find them at home thi evening. There is no better time than th present?only bear in mind, my good fellow you are not to fall in love with the Lamb ; tha amiable creature is already appropriated." As he concluded he rose lazily and drew oi his paletot. The dinner paid for and the ac customed douceur given to the garcon, we de parted. Arm in arm we sauntered slowly t< the Hotel Wagram. and soon were in our room * dressing for our visit to the Goffes. 44 Don't be surprised," said Gus as we wor< walking along the. Boulevard ou our wa; thither, 44 at any eccentricity, however gross the Wolves may be disposed to commit : no \ isit your displeasure on my unfortunate heai in case they should snub you. Many a mai as good as yourself, my dear fellow, lias me with shocking treatment at their fair hands One thing you will have to console tfou. N< matter how much the Wolves may snap an( snarl, you will l>e amply recompensed for an] injuries they may intlict in the winning kind * ness and gentleness of the Lamb." We found them occupying a spleudid suit< of apartments in the Rue de . When 1 say splendid, 1 inean that sort of gorgeoasuest made up of gilding and French upholstery The furniture was as costly as money coulc procure, hut each article of it seemed to havt been chosen more for its individual value, thai with reference to the rest. It had been, seem ingly, gathered together without any idea ol harmony, or even contrast. 1 entered leaning on the arm of my friend Being somewhat nearsighted. 1 found my sell vis-a-vis to the twins ere 1 was aware of it. tins introduced me in his blandest manner, producing, however, no other result than n cold nod from the eldest of the twins and an exclamation from the sister of? * Mr. Williams, I beg vou will r.ot introduce me to any more men. 1 know four now, ami 1 hate them." My friend's warning had led me to expect that I might not be most graciously received, yet 1 was quite appalled at this rough, insulting reception. I began to stammer something about venturing to intrude, anxiety to he introduced, and so forth, when 1 was cut short in my timid utterances by the twin who had honored ine with a nod remarking: " You can sit down. sir. now that you are here ; and do pray dispose of your hat. People IV*lt A 4 ft* t * 1 ? - 1 ? * ' iwiu inui men iiais :ire ;uwav8 uores.' 1 ventured something about the pleasure I ad anticipated in making fheir acquaintance, when I was again interrupted by her saying: " Pray, spare us that: I hate conventional compliments." 1 was quite demolished by this. Sinking into the vacant chair, 1 became so nervous and embara&sed that 1 was about to deposit my hat upon the table, when the lady who rejoiced in her hatred of her four male friends almost shouted to me : 44 Be careful, sir, where you place your hat. Do you wish to crush my pet." Standing up, I was completely' horrified to discover squirming upon the talde in all its lithe iiideousness. a harmless but disgusting -? reptile, known in America as the garter snake. Miss (ioffe gave me a reproachful glance as she took it up and placed it in her bosom, where the greater part of it lay concealed in the folds of her dress ; whilst its head and neck moved hither and thither caressed by the jeweled hand of its mistress. I was absorbed and fascinated by this scene, in the same manner and with something of the same feeling, by which we may imagine, a bird ^ to be impressed, wheu it finds itself, despite r all its struggles, hopping hopelessly toward I the distended jaws of a snake. I was experiencing a feeling akin to this, when the door opened, and the spell was broken by the entrance of a spiritual looking creature into the drawing-room. Gus took her hand as she approached, and turning to me said, 4'Allow me to present my frieod, Mr. Philip Brahain." She smiled sweetly as she extended her hand, rejoining kindly as she did so, 44A friend of f yours cannot but be a welcome visitor. 1 am delighted to sec you." A hasty glance impressed me with th* ?*^ue of my friontTs admonition "not to fall in love with her.'" She was just that sort of creature that one might imagine a man would fail in love with at first sight, recklessly, hopelessly. She was most winning and gracious in her i manner, with one of those indescribably sweet faces, which at once attracts us without our being able to assign any exact reason why. Her eyes were of dark hazel, and she had a dreamy way of looking out from them that gave you an impression of her being connected with, or attracted to some other, better existence that did not entirely seperute her from this. One often liear<theexpres3io? "a spiritual looking woman." I had, however,, never before met anyone who so thoroughly realized * the description I was enchanted with her. ' I almost forgot the Wolves and began to devote myself to the Lamb. The Wolves merely looked up as she entered. * 1 observed them exchange a malicious glance. The one who gloried in her hatred of her four ' male aeipiaintanees exclaimed in a warning tone : "Mind how you step, my nervous cousin, Mimi is out. I know your boiyship pretends * to he afraid of him. Miss Hurrows .^hnddeied. An expression of 4 alarm ami disgust Hitr*-?! across fier face as she * observed tremulously: "I am verv sorry ; had 1 been aware of it I 1 should not have left my room.' "Oh! it was not on your account 1 spoke," rejoined the Wolf. "1 feared it might get * noon the floor ami be trodden unon bv vou. as ' ! it was t!i?* other <!:?\. It is in sister's bosom ! now. You need nor he alarmed for its safety ; | only pray keep your eyes about you - Miss Burrows drew baek as she observed the " object of her horror and detestation so close to s her. (iliding across the room sh? took a seat 1 beside me upon t lie sofa. "I have an unconquerable horror of all a creeping things," said she in an ugitated voice. "1 have tried to reason myself out of it without success, being conscious that it must be some 8 how wrong to hate, or rather detest, anything Ciod has made, and doubtless designed to serve y some useful purpose in the economy of nature ? A snake, however, I cannot tolerate. It in u spires me with indescribable disgust and r terror. ' e "And will not your cousins give it up," I e asked. "It is singular they should be disposed e to cherish such outre pets." e "M v cousins are somewhat peculiar in their tastes I must admit." replied she. "Perhaps e they are a little spoiled by never having been ? compelled to Sacrifice them to the feelings or b wishes of others. That, however, is not their e fault. I am sure they do not cherish their 18 pets to annoy others, hut to afford pleasure to d themselves." ' I ga/.ed at the young creature who spoke '* thus apologetically for her cousins, and felt 18 sin* was a deal too charitable in her disposition. '1 I was indeed very much interested in her. d In conversations about many things in France i* and England, of which we cherished reminisy censes in common, with discussions upon a books, music and the various topics of the a day, 1 found the evening gliding most agree>e ably away. The Wolf with the snake in her d bosom left her seat, where she had evidently n been quarrelling with ti us, and took a chair beside the centre table, upon which she deposited her scaly pet, where it lay twisting 'e and coiling its llexile, half torpid length about tc her hand and arm, in a manner most disgustig ing to behold. *u Although she seemingly concentrated her attention upon her strange pet, there was io about her, when narrowly observed, a half >r watchful, expectant air, that would lead to the ?e impression that something else also occupied io her mind. Mhe always started with a timid to look when the door opened, which look conty trusted strongly with her generally assured, almost defiant air. This expectant manner was shared to so great an extent hy Miss Burr rows that I v as led to remark : s "You apjx ?r to be expecting somebody or e something? which is it? At least I feel assured e it is an agreeable anticipation from the dolightc ed, eager manner with which you look up c whenever the door is opened." ie "Ah. yes." she rejoined. "1 am expecting t. Mr. Walton." 0 "Happy Mr. Walton,*'said 1 with a smile, n "to exeite so much interest." e "Oh, it is \ < r\* natural," she replied with an i- air of most eh arming nai\ctte. "Do you not it know that Mr. Walton and 1 are engaged?" e I could not help smiling as 1 look at her, for this was a sor: of acknowledgment that ladies s find it very e flicult to make, and which they e seldom or m \ er volunteer. On the contrary, 11 in most ins .nces, they consider themselves y privileded to make all manner of evasions with regard 1 it, and often tell most ingenious u and admirably concocted fibs about the mats ter. In her. however, it did not appear an e exhibition of vanity or a manifestation of forv. ardness, l>u' a confession ?juite in harmony t with the genuine innocence and simplicity of her charactvi. 1 As she concluded 1 looked up and found the - Wolf glarinp at her with a look of such conceni trated, iutei-ified hatred, as fairly made me a shudder. ?ere is no mistaking it," thought s 1, "these two women are rivals?a spirit of light and a S| irit of darkness worshipping at e the same shr.ne; both of their offerings can-! v not be accept 'J." There wa> omething revolting in the glitr tering snak\ , ooh that gleamed from the Wolf. 1 It seemed a? if the light that glistened in the i eyes of her ->-aly per, was reflected from her t own and rend red terrible by its human associa. tion aud intelligence. At that moment 1 felt J that it would be preferable to take to my bosom 1 | her disgustii g pet, with its clammy folds, than f to come in e utaet with its mistress. 1 shud dered, and a ter a few moments silence r% marked to the l.amb : i, "Am 1 to regard this us a remarkable proof I of confidence ?" i "Oh, no; she replied with the same innocent . manner. "1 thought e\erv one knew that cousin I Walton was engaged to m.* " i j At this juncture the door opened and a deli> I 4^1- r 1. I r i ?? 1 ? . . ? i trainv iuriut* i man 01 minnie neignt entered the room. Miss Hurrows rose and extended both F her bands, which betook in his own whilst lie looked tend- rly at her "You ha\e been well ?" said he in a quiet F tone. "Yes, only a little nervous at times. I shall, , however, quiet myself ugain, now that you l have come. Let me present you to Mr. Hrai ham." lie bowed and shook my baud cordially, then crossed the room to where the Wolf ! sat at the table, ostensibly absorbed in her I scaly pet. 1 could observe, however,'from the furtive mauner in which she looked up without ; raising her head, that she was watching his , movements. When she arose and extended to him her hand there was more softness in her ; face than 1 had ever deemed it capable of expressing. "Still cultivating my old antipathy," remarked he smilingly, "1 have brought you a j book I am sure you will revel iu?a book of , travels in lava?a place that would be a l*ara dise to you, from the number and variety of snakes it contains. You shall have it bye and bye when I unpack.*' "And have you brought me nothing?'' enquired the other Wolf. "Well, no; 1 am sorry to say I have not. The only thing 1 saw that 1 thought would strike your fancy would have been most difficult to procure and inconvenient to transport.'* "What was it?'* both exclaimed in a breath. "One of the preserved specimens of antediluvian reptuliu, which some geologist with an | iinprououneable name has just presented to the j I Crystal l'alaee Association. Although being j only thirty feet hmg.it would have been rather difficult to put in my trunk, besides which the j directors of that transparent institution might ' not have been inclined to part with it." Whilst Mr. Walton had been giving expression to this banter 1 bad leisure to study his face, and observed how strongly marked his countenance was. You would have imagined him to be about twenty-two, but there were deep lines on his forehead and a thoroughly grave, almost stern expression of face that showed him to he older than a first glance would hare suggested. Even whilst uttering these pleasantries the upper half of his face never seemed to smile. The eye, which is most difficult, nay, almost impossible, to school, did not seem to harmonize with his playful banter. The lines on his forehead, the indentations between his eyebrows neither softened nor changed; his thin lips alone smiled and they only for an instant, then relapsed into a severe expression. 1 do not know that I ever saw a moutk express such inflexible determination as did his in repose. His complexion was feminine in its transparent fairness. His rich auburn hair, parted in the middle, was thrown j off his forehead (which was rather narrow and not very high) and hung almost to his shoulders in a mass of rich, wavy curls, which in their * ? Tl glossy luxuriance might have inspired a woman r with envy. This, together with his boyish I style of dress, gave to his t?iU ensemble that t air of adolescence which would impress one on o seeing him for the first time. a About that period all Paris was in a feas- ! e inent of excitement with regurd to a murder rI which had been recently committed, under cir- it ! cumstances of horrible atrocity. A young w lady, in a respectable position amongst the I v Burgoise, had poisoned a lady friend from in<>- a tives of jealously. By this terrible crime the n I lover of the murdered Mud lie Yarigny had b been driven to desperation, and to ne rid of an j tl existence so full of misery, had drowned him- ' tl self in the Seine. Our friends had some slight t acquaintance with the parties, so the lamenta- 11 ble occurrence naturally became atopic of con- r ersation during the evening. Numberless c i suggestions bad been made as to what would ! be a fitting punishment for so horrible a crime; 11 none of us were inclined to clemency. ?>? seemed s for a moment to think or wish that she should be spared the penalty ot death, as the murder j g was characterized by many revolting features, ! ami was the undoubted result of long premedi- v 1 tation. j c Walton, on being appealed to for an opinion, j said, 44 if they wish to punish her the infiiction j; of death w ill not effect that object. A woman j, who loves with such intensity of passion that ;l i ol... ..-Ill iLLintnif tllllfilxr alldiii tli,. i.l.i.w.t j nin i>- ?i'?'ii ? ? 'J" >" I her affections, must also be capable of lecling (] in the keenest manner the pangs of remorse. j 0 A woman like that should be made to live and v he so environed, that every moment of her e.\ j; istenee the evidences of her crime should be t kept unavoidably before her. Had the lover \ t of the murdered girl been else than a fool, he would have endeavored to suppress tin- evi- . deuce he gave which led to her conviction, and | held it ever suspended over her like the sword ? | of Humocles. He should have let her live: vet J so live as to be each moment face to face with j death. 1 cannot understand why men destroy themselves under such circumstances, llad 1 j j, been lie, 1 should have spared no effort to save j . her: and, having accomplished that, she should < have lived to have welcomed death in its most appalling form, as the sweetest boon Heaven could bestow upon her." ! ? That man, thought. I, as 1 regarded the vin- ! ^ dictive expression that crept over his face as he spoke, is not one to be safely offended. As Walton ceased speaking he rose, crowed I the room, and rang the bell. 44 Laura," said he, turning to Miss Burrows, J 44 I wish to hear you execute a piece of music . that 1 have brought with me from London. It was performed by a young lady at one of L>r. . x Morton's soirees. She has no musical educa- ; tion whatever, and whilst in a state of clair I voyance she sat at the piano and improvised I die most extraordinary melodies to which 1 i ever listened." j 44 You know I am quick at catching such ( things. I jotted down the notes, and it was j ^ afterwards played over from my manuscript ere.' 1 the company dispersed, and was pronounced J i by them all a correot reproduction of the mel- \ t ody note for note. The most singular part of ' the whole is that the lady herself, in her natural 1 state, was perfectly incapable of playing it ! from the manuscript, and had not the slightest I recollection of ever having performed it." i The servant here made his appearance. ] 44 Bring me," said Walton, 44 a parcel you 1 will find on my dressing-room table." < As the door closed on the servant, Walton ] resumed: < 441 saw at Dr. Morton's some things so mys- i terious and inexplicable that they have haunted { me ever since. Y ou know 1 have ever been a j * sceptic with reference to spiritualism, clairvoy- j 1 ance, ana Kinarea mysteries. Had the things t I there saw been related to me, 1 should have been most incredulous. 1 not only saw much . that 1 cannot explain, but things that made me { doubt my own senses. At my particular re j quest, the clairvoyant was transported here, j 1 wish to test the truth of her revelations. c Laura, permit me to examine your arm." ! ] At this request Miss Burrows started up and ; became by turns pale and red. The Wolves , j also were pale anu much agitated. Miss Bur- j rowrs said, with a forced smile: i 44What an odd request. Why should you <. wish to see uiy arm ?" e I now observed, for the first time, that whilst the twins wore dresses extremely low in the ( neck, with short sleeves, Miss Burrows wore i her sleeves buttoned at the wrist, and thr body <of her dress half high. : c There was an evident indisposition exhibited } on her part to comply with Walton's request. < 1 observed the elder of the Wolves give her a t deprecating look, and the whole affair began to 1 wear an air of interest. After a few moments of hesitation Miss Burrows rejoined : r '* No, no, cousin Walton ; 1 cannot show ii y to you. There is, in fact " t 44 Yo.ur very hesitation,'' said Walton, earn- v estly, 44 makes me more anxious for a com-j u pliance with my request. 1 do not ask for the . a gratification of an idle curiosity, but to confirm ! f, me either in a belief or disbelief in a subject of more than ordinary interest. Tell me," . continued he almost sternly, 44 does not your arm bear the marks of violence?" r At this one of the twins grew absolutely livid, whilst the other, startiug forward, ex * claimed: 44 Nonsense, Maria! Why do you look so frightened? Don't be stupid. Can't you se? c it is all a trick ? It is plain enough that noun ( one has been telling cousin Walton of the ruv vou h< i with Laura." tir i. ? f * ? " waiton s iips seemeu to grow thinner even . ! moment. There was a wild sparkle in his ey? which seemed to make him look devilish. " It is true, then, there has heen a quarrel," a he uttered in a suppressed tone. "Hail 1 he lieved in the truth of clairvoyance, had 1 not 1 deemed it all a delusion, 1 would not have asked questions that have led to this painful f' | use. Yet, as we have gone thus far/' eon tiuiied he, sneeringly, "if only for the purpose H j of deciding a question of science, let us iuvesti ! gate this strange affair thoroughly." As lie concluded, he half playfully seized ^ Laura's hand, and, raising the sleeve of her thess, disclosed just above the elbow on her delicate and beautifully moulded arm the deep i imprint of a hand, the nails of which had v buried themselves iu the tlesh. 111 Walton looked inquiringly from one to the . other, as though he would ask some oxplana S1 tion. ? " It is nothiug, cousin Walton." pleaded w Laura, disengaging her arm from him. 1 trod c< most carelessly tin Maria's poor little pet, and j to save it from being crushed she seized my 1 arin rather more roughly than she intended." , n An embarassing pause here ensued. Walton U1 broke in upon it by sternly remarking : ul " I would advise you, Maria, to give up those ! disgusting pets. I have a fearful presentiment rt they will occasion some lamentable catastrophe. something that will bring us to sorrow. At vl all events," he concluded, " I am convinced there is some truth in clairvoyance. 1 did not, however, expect so painful an evidence of its reality. Let ine again warn you, Maria, to j flrivn ntfc tHjkUJfc rvAif. #V? ? 1 ? ?> ?- 1 ' p. , V u j- vuxrcre UUtllVIO 1UI X CillllJUl I'lll ; myself of the conviction," repeated he, impres- I sivelv, "that something terrible will result from m cherishing them." j m Happily at this moment the servant entered the rsom bringing with him the music. 1 im- j mediately proposed it should be played, beiug ! 111 thoroughly delighted to tind anything to interrupt what had become a painful, embarassiug scene. Miss Burrows seated herself at the piano. After glancing at the music, she remarked: P( "It seems odd and rather difficult in char-1 ,n acter, better suited, 1 should s\y, to the violin- ! cello than the piano. However, let us try." m It was decidedly original iu it j character, and differed from any'composition to which I had ever listened. It seemed to suggest in a striking | degree the sounds of Nature, at one moment to like the carolling notes of a bird, the musical th dripping of a fountain, or the soft murmur of he a brook, recalling, too, the sighing of the in night-wind as I hare heard it in the tropics m; whispering through the delicate leaves of the lu bamboo and mimosa; than again like the music ro of the waves as they fall in solemn regularity ha upon the sea-shore; in short, all the harmonies Tl of Nature blended into one soft melody. go I could not but regard the fixed expression j si< of Walton's face as Miss Burrows continued ! pa playing. When she concluded, he remarked: ! at 441 have lately felt that I stand upon the wi brink qf some great discovery in myself?that m< I have within me some latent power soon to be j ae developed. At times I sepm endowed with a of penetration almost painful to me, and a fore- i knowledge of events that borders on the super- j th natural. When I say events, I meau those of i ex an individual character ard connected with sti some particular person. Most singular, to<4 ur it is only toward those for whom 1 cherish rep th gard. People that 1 dislike, or toward whom ? ca am indifferent, cross ray mind only in thoughtjl: Ai but those I love are as palpable to me in thesWU an waking visions as you are now. Do you n.Jt in Jit) IST raw rm ememher." continued he. turning toward tin /umb. " that some time since, whilst reading he morning new.s4.aper, a presentiment tiashet ver me that something terrible had happenet t home? You will also recollect how you a! ndeavored to ridicule me out of the idea hen I hesitated to say how deep an inlpressiot t had made upon me : nor .would 1 relate w it! .'hat vivid distinctness 1 had seen pas* iu re iew before me the terrified faces of my uajthe nd sisters. Judge my surprise 011 openinj iy letters, which awaited uie in London, t( 3aru that (allowing for the difference in tiim liat a variation in longitude would produce) a he very h"ur. aye, the very moment, whui liose terrified faces passed in review befori le they were in the midst of a frightful rail oad accident, from which they narrowly es aped with life." At this moment t.us,who had been fidgetinj 1 his chair, crossed the room ami seating him elf beside mc, said, in an undertone: " "Pon my word, 1 don't Relieve thov ar oing to have a drop of tea." I gave him a look of disgust, for I did no rish to leave. 1 knew what his whisper indi ated. so 1 pretended to be absorbed in a pluvfu ispute that was going on between the \Volve jr the possession ol the scaly pet, which, seem ngly aroused from its torpor, was writhinj ,nd turning its disgusting length first abou lie arm of one, then another of the sisters : nov i)>oii the sofa, then upon the ti ?or, under th usliions. twirliu^ itself about the chair legs recting its little scaly head, darting forth it orked tongue, all to the great delight of tli wins and the horror and disgust of the rest o he company. (Ins again nudged inc. "Come," said luj 4 do you know it is almost eleven?" " hon't bother rue, it makes no difference t> no if it twelve," 1 rejoined. "1 shall leave you then to stumble home tli est way you can," he threatened. 44 (Jo on," said I coolly, ' I believe I have : ew francs in my pocket, and can take a liaer fit is necessary." At this moment of controversy the drawing ooiii do.?r opened, and we heard distinctly th iugling of glasses outside. A sunny smil ustaiuly illumined the hungry visage of in; riend, who hastily replaced his gloves in hi locket and wore the appearance of a man win iccepted the situation. Two servants entered. One bore a tray n vine, the other a silver basket containing : ariet v of light cakes, biscuit. Ac. When (ius saw the kind of refreshments pre *ided, he did not look so happy as before. II lelped himself to a couple of macaroons loured out a glass of wine, "and, between tli dps, lie whispered to me : "Cousins or not cousins, 1 shall cut thes people; I can't stand this. W hen they firs :ame to Paris they were more christian lik tnd less polished. They then fed the hungry When you came to see them you were sure c four supper. Now a days they are gettin Mitirelv to French for my tastes. It strike Tie they are improving in the wrong direction Let us go." 44 You can go if you like, (ius, I told yo :hat long ago;" 1 rejoined with an air of di<j nity ; 44 and what is more, you have my humbl permission to stop at every restaurant on th ivav home and gorge you, sell to your heart' content. If you have no money with you, 111 purse is at your command, i think 1 iiav observed no less than four places between her md the hotel where you may comfort and rt ;ale yourself. Amongst them all you may tim sufficient to satisfy your voracious appetite :?ut, as I am not hungry. 1 beg to be perinittoi :o remain where 1 am." Gus continue.1 t?> grumble at intervals ; but is 1 would not then lake tny leave, he reiuaine* o accompany me home. * Conversation was resumed after the refresh neuts were disposed of. We entered upon th liscussion ?rt spiritual manifestations from Hi Misses Fox ami their rapping* down to Ilium ind his wonderful performances. Brewster oi latural magic Mesmgr, Crowe's night-side o uiture, and the whole rycle ot kindred myste ies. At last we were reduced to the discussioi )f ghosts and ghost stories, and so ended til wcning. After this my first meeting with the Misse: iofl'e 1 spent many evenings iti their society iy degrees they came to regard me us a persot if whom they could not get rid. and whose so ietv they must endure if they c >u!d not enjoy My intimacy with Gus naturally led me fre pietntly to the house, where the attractions o he Lamb alone vrould have been sufficient t( uive drawn me. Being so frequently in their society, 1 couli n?t but notiee in how many ways the W ol J aria exhibited her loudness for Walton 'lose observation detected efforts *n her part rhich would have been trifling in another wo nan, yet more remarkable in her, as evincitu , desire to please Walton?an effort she madt or no other human being. By degrees the aversion, v ,h which they ad at first inspired me, gave place to a feeling f toleration, which finally merged into indif erer.ce, as far as tlu-ir eccentricities were con erned. I came to regard them in the light o wo women to whom obscurity was misery ot being endowed with those qualities of heart ud mind that would have conduced to then elebrity; they chose to be notorious in pref rence to remuiniiig obscure. Every day we were more and more together, nti 1 at length they began to regard me in 1 lit ght of a brother. They made me the envied ol iv mule friends by the distinguished consider tion with which they treated me. Each day 1 deemed the Lamb grew mort harming. It was almost happiness to look on er and Walton : they were so loving, so quietly ?nder to each ?ther. Their iwo lives seemed uund up together There was an astonishing milarity ol taste between them. [TO HE CONTINUE!'. ] .NEC DOTE OF ADMIRAL FARRAtJl T. The following anecdote of Admiral Farragut, e believe, says the New Haven Journal, has at appeared in print. While at New Orleans le officers of the Susquehanna, probably derous of going North, represented the ship as reatly in need of repairs. A board of survey as appointed to examine and report on her audition. In due time the report was handed > the Admiral. After reading ii over cureilly. he remarked : " 1 find nothing but genel1 ities in this report; it does not appear thut nything is broken in the machinery, or that ay thing is specially wrong about her." Then followed a dialogue between the Adtuiil and engineer : Admiral?" What is the matter with the ?ssel ?" Engineer?"(leneral debility, sir." Admiral?44 That's very definite; what do an mean by general debility?" Engineer?" I mean that she is very weak in any of her parts, and not safe." Admiral?"Still quite indefinite; now tell e, is there anything wrong in her uioveents?" Engineer?'* Yes, sir ; she cannot be resrseu : ?. e., she cannot be managed in backig her. sir." Admiral?44 Is that the Onlv thincr wrnnir in J ft " " ?r movements?" Engineer?44 Yes sir; I believe so." Admiral?44 She will then answer my pur)se ; I do not want a vessel in my Heet to ove backward." He then tore the report into pieces. Nothing ore was heard of the " debility " of the >5uslehanna. Valley Foroe.?The house which Washing11 made his headquarters at Valley Forge, ou e Schuylkill, has, from every appearance, id the greatest care taken of it, and is now excellent repair. Little change has been tide in it since the terrible days of the Revotion. It is a rock house, consisting of two oms below and two above, having a narrow ill. ( otne one-story rooms have been added.) le style of the window-sash and wood-work nerally shows its great antiquity. The inle is painted white. The rooms are neatly ipered, and everything appears tidy and tractive. The old entrenchments have also thstood the rugged hand of time, being aliwt perfect in some places. This may be counted for in some respects by the nature the ground. There is a great deal of rock mixed with the rown-up dirt. Fart of the entrenchments tend through wooded country. The forts are ill elevated above the common level, and, dess moved by the hand of man, will remain ere for centuries to come. There are five nnou-balls at the headquarters. Here the merican army endured sad want from hunger, d here its great commander bowed his head praver. J ^I A. : THE HOME CIRCLE. 1 HOME AFFECTIONS. a 1 ' F I've gazed on many a lovely scene, fc j Of sunny skies ami vales of green. ui tj And mountain heights sublime; pi But far more lovely, far more fair, ;ll In happy home wiih loved ones there? s, y That's lovelier, divine. [) Ql e Morning may clothe iw golden ray, 1 t And gushing fountains sweetly plav, And nature smiling fair? I'd rather have a wish in heart For " home affections," they impart Pure joy that's found but there. j *.1 "| -ill Sweet, happy home, where love entwines tf Her sweet heart's ease 'mid tares of thine. And dwells with thee forever: i tl Sweeter than skies of brightest hue n e Are hearts that love us fond and true. w ? That naught but death can sever. , [ For tin- New Kka.] a I 1 i A KIIOKT PATE AT NERMOW. fil i ? F - I BY PARSON A1XKRIUIIT. gj in f Heir instruction, ami be wise, nutl refuse if not.?l'ro- j tt Verbs viii, .'i3. t. lie //illustrious. An idle soul shall suffer i j, hunger. ?Proverbs ix, lb. I C( * Labor is a law of necessity: whosoever eateth pi *' must work. | A lazy man or women is an abomination in the sight of the Lord. ! |? "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat j p; i l ! l: . _ i * .i, t l ...: .1.... ... ?1.1 IW " (Heati, i> an cuici, ui nit' .Aimigiiiy. ;i* uiu nearly as tlie world we inhabit, and from it .. P , li! there is no appeal. ,j Idleness is the sure road to poverty and e crime. Let the sluggard consider the ways of ei the ant. and learn wisdom therefrom. He that tilleth his land shall have plenty of t.| *' bread; but he that tblloweth after vain persons a] e shall have poverty enough.- Proverbs xxviii, 19. \ ! There is something for everybody to do who 8 ; ? . 0 | is willing to work. As tillers of the soil, as j 1,1 mechanics, as dealers in merchandise, or in i S1 f' , j ^ ? ,T other departments of industry, every hand may w be profitably employed if its owner determines j tL j to work at whatever he can find to do e i You cannot all be lawyers, nor merchants, ' N nor mechanics ; but the fields of industry are as wide as the world, and no man need he idle. Work is honorable; it is the unwillingness to ^ work that is disgraceful. Let every man and woman make it a rule to earn their bread before they eat it, and the '1 world will have fewer idlers than it has now. ?? ~ lie temperate. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red ; at the last it biteth like a seri pent, and stingeth like an adder.?Proverbs (J xxiii, ?>I. 'V2. Tens of thousands of your fellow men have 1 suffered froiu its poisonous bite and felt its s j piercing sting, even unto death. v'I A drunken man is a human soul disguised as e a beast. Indeed, the attributes of the man are '* exchanged for the habits of the beast?the j erect form and God-like intellect wallow in the . gutter, and the swine avoid them. J Hrunkcimess robs a man of his substance, his sell-respect, and his good name. It lur nishes the poor-houses with inmates and tills * the world with widows and orphans. _ ! If you have a wife to cherish, if you have t> j children to love and protect, if you have others C ilcnpiwlont nnnn van fat- .11 m.aot if n,-vn 1,1 ) ?i i? j rr1' " j he respected or prospered in the world, avoid j i the intoxicating cup. Beware of the first dram, for be sure it is liquid poison, which 1 carries death to both body and soul. Avoid the company of those who would in- j ^ tice you to partake of strong drink as you would a gang of highwaymen or robbers who i were seeking to take from you your worldly - goods; for such company would rob you of *?' d( that which is more valuable than gold and o( f silver. pc ) Touch not, taste not, handle not that which as will intoxicate. Wl 1 j. Be saving. Wealth is but the accumulation h;i j of surplus earnings. If a man would secure th , independence he must learn to save. nii Benjamin Franklin said "a penny saved is j s ~ two pence clear," and Franklin was a very wise 1 j man. ! to r i If you earn but six dollars a week put one ! t dollar into the Freedtnan's Savings Bank every ^ > i ? J Wl * Saturday, where it will draw interest and help ' pj, j. you to earn more ; by so doing you will soon tir have a little capital working with you to make y* t money, and earning something for you even J * while you are asleep. ni( Many of the wealthiest men in our country to began the world with nothing, and worked their ; sa way up little by little, bv habits of industry * ' I OI f i and economy, saving a portion, small though it ; may have been at tirst. of their little earnings. j0j By and by the capital they had sa\ed began to tii bring them in more money than they were nr earning themselves, and then they very soon i i :_i i : urcauiu nun. lat By saving part of your earnings each week ru as these men did, you will certainly acquire m< property. You may nut, perhaps, get as rich i co as they, but you will be agreeably surprised at jf the result if you will try the experiment for a re: | single year. 'nl j And then a little cash in bank makes one i | feel more like a man. It keeps off the blues on j a rainy day, and like a nest egg serves as an it? ' i inducement to lay more eggs in the same bas! ket. Try it. ' his J in} Be honest. Providing fur honest things, not . only in the sight of the Lord, but ul>o in the da sight of men.?2 Corinthians viii, 21. He that walketh uprightly walketh surely.? ; na Proverbs x. 9. ! wo It is a trite saying, and nonetheless true for being old. that "honesty is the best policy." ftn 11 is always policy to do right, and never policy j,e to do wrung. am Treasures of wickedness profit nothing.? j Proverbs x, 2. I j j Ill-gotten gain .will prove coals of tire in 1 your treasure-box. which in the end will burn ' \jQ] the contents into dross. j cal Riches acquired by deception or fraud will ',0 j ultimately bring down disusters upon your j head. ! ch' If you would have favor in the sight of Hod, i rej bo honest. I un j If you would have the confidence and respect j toi I ?r .. r_n ? ? - -- - - i ui your icuuw iueu, oe nonesi in ail vour deal. qu mZ9- wa "An honest mnn is the noblest work of God.'' in A good name is rather to be chosen than the great riches.?Proverbs xxii, 1. tht Establish a reputation for strict integrity in ! a? all your business relations, and you will have M^(" something to fall back upon if you should meet hai with reverses in business. j fac Meet every obligation to the utmost limit of j^a your ability. Hold your word sncred ; put far away from you misrepresentations and deceit teu in every forin. Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you in similar cirt i 1 j cumstanees. In short, let it be your pride to ] earn from the world, and from Him who secth ?r? the heart, the title of " honest man." "Do You Remember Me."?A poor, dying ! hel inebriate was once visited by the men who had pr< supplied him with the means of intoxication, air The dealer stooped and whispered in his dying ne ear. 44 Do you remember me?" The dying man, I hit fogetting his struggle with the king of terrors, hei exclaimed. 44 Yes, I remember you, and I re- niv member your store where I formed the habit tht which has ruined me for this world and the ' next. And when 1 ain dead and gone, and you yoi ! come t? take from my wife and children the uic shattered remains of my property to pay off my ! wi ; rum debts, they will remember you. Ves, and r An Honest Rumseller's Advertisement Friends and Neighbors : Having just opened commodious shop for the sale of 44 Liquid ire." i em 1 trace this early opportunity of iuirmingyou that on Saturday next I shall con* icnce the business of making drunkards, pullers, and beggars for the sober, industrious, nd respectable portion of the community to lnport. I shall deal in '* familiar spirits," which will scite men to deeds of riot, robbery, and bloud rid bv so doing diminish the comforts, augcnt the expenses, ami endanger the welfare f the peaceable community. I will undertake, at short notice for a small im. and with great expedition, to prepare vioius for the insane asylums, the poor houses, le prisons, and the gallows. I will furnish an article which will increase ic amount of lata! accidents, multiply the umber of distressing diseases, and render those hieli are harmless incurable. I shall deal in drugs which will deprive some life, many of reason, most of property, and II of peace: which will cause fathers to be ends, wives to be widows, children to he orfians. and all inendieants. I will huso the rising generation to grow up 1 1 ' i ignorance, ami prove a imiucu ?>i ? ..uiauuw > the nation. I will cause mothers to forget their sucking dants. virgins their priceless innocence. I will >rrupt the ministers of religion, obstruct the repress of the gospel, defile the purity of ie church, ami cause temporal, spiritual, tnl eternal death ; and if any should he so imertinent as to ask why I have the auducity to ring such accumulated misery upon a cotitfiratively happy people, my honest reply is. ionkv. The spirit trade is lucrative, and some prossing Christians give it their cheerful counuittiice. 1 have a license, and if 1 do not bring these rils upon you. somebody else will. I live in a land of liberty. I have purchased the right to demolish the laraeter. destroy the health, shorten the lives, nil ruin i tie souls of those who chose to hot.or ie with their cu>tom. I pledge myself to do all I have herein prolised. Those who wish any of the evils a ove jecified brought upon themselves or their dearit friends, arc requested to meet me at the Bak, here 1 will for u few cents furnish them with ie certain means of doing so. ONE SPOKE A SI NO EE WORD TO ME. It was indeed a festive scene, The hall was all agleam with light, And stalwart men and maidens fair In mirth forgot times hasty flight, i sadly wander'd 'midst the throng. To where I heard their laughter free, And stood, a lonely looker on : None spoke a single word to me. Around me men and matrons smil'd On the loud mirth they once could share, And ga/.'d with loving eyes upon Loved offspring in their places there. And ever and anon they threw A quiet jest to swell the glee ; Vet whilst I sadly sinil'don them, None spoke a single word to me. Young eyes were brighten'd by the tale Told from old Eve's time until now. And fair cheeks flush d,and then grew pale? \\ hi 1st list'uing to some whisper'd vow. And laughing children midst the throng W ore faces, ah ! so sweet to see ; \ et though my heart o'erHowed to them. None spoke a single word to rae. l is very sad to walk-amidst A joy in which you mingle not. And feel yourself amidst the crowd The only one who seems forgot. Yes, even far above the stars 1 dull and sad of heart should be. If. 'midst that bright angelic host, None spoke a single word to me. F. J. W. THE ORPHAN BOY. "llo failed, y?'t no calru nrnl meek, So gently wan, so sweetly weak.*4 The bustle of the light was over ; the prison's had been secured, and the decks wushet >wn, the watch piped, and the schooner hac ice more relapsed into midnight <juiet and re- ! ?se. 1 sought my hammock and soon fell j le.ep. But my slumbers were disturbed by ild dreams, which, ike the visions of a fever. Stated and unnerved me : the late strife, the irdships of my early life, and a thousand other ings mingled together as figures in phanta*- 1 agoria. Suddenly a hand was laid on nty , oulder, and startingup I beheld the surgeon's J ate. 44 Little Dick, sir, is a dying," said he in lov nes. f j i At once I sprang from my hammock. Little ck was a sort of protege of mine. He is a pale, delicate child, said to be an orian. &ud used to gentle nature, and from tie i 1 st hour I joined the schooner, mv heart ! arned towards him, for I too had ouce been endless and alone in the world. He had often Iked to me in confidence of his mother, whose unorv be regarded with holy reverence, while i the other boys of the ship he had little to 1 v : for they were rude and coarse, he delicate d sensative. Often when they jeered him j r his melancholy, he would go apart by hiinIf and weep. He never complained ot his though his companions imposed on him con- i nially. Poor lau! His heart was in the ave with his loved and lost parents. I took a strange interest in 4iiin, and lighted his task as much as possible. During the < :e fight I had owed my life to him, for he < shed in just a> a saber stroke was leveled at ?, and by interposing his feeble cutlass had eriea me deadly blow, in tlie tiurry and ' fusion since, I had quite forgotten to inquire < he was hurt, though at the time, I inwardly solved to exert all my influence to procure in a midshipman's warrant in requittal of his rviee. It was in a pang of reproachful agony erefore, that I leaped to my feet? " Mv Hod!" I exclaimed, 44 you don't mean ' 1 le is not dying?'' : 44 I fear, sir," said the messenger, shaking I i head sadly, 44 that he cannot live till morn- : r y 4 And I have heen lying iedly here!" I ex- < dmed with remorse. 44 Lead me to him!" 44 He is delerious, but in the intervals of lucv he asks for you, sir.' and as the man spoke stood beside the dying boy. The sufferer did not lie in his usual hammock, it was hung in the very midst of the crew, d the close air around it was too stifling ; but had been carried under the open hatchways, ( d laid therein a little open space of about four it square. From the sounds of the ripples, udged the schoouer was in motion, while i ? clear, calm, blue sky, seen through the ope- , ( ig overhead, and dotted with myriads of stars, i tokened that the fog had broken away. How I tm it smiled down on the face of the dying v. Occasionally a light current of wind? ! how deliciously cod in that pent up hole? I ' nea aown the naicnway and lilted the dark < sstnut locks of the sufferer, as, with his head losing in the lap of an old veteran, he lay in ! quiet slumber, llis shirt eolor was unhut- | led aud his childish bosom, as white as that a girl, was opened and exposed. He breathed ick and heavily. The wound of which he s dying had been intensely painful, but with- i the last half hour had somewhat lulled, 1 >ugh even now his thin lingers tightly grasped > bed-clothes, as if he suffered the greatest i ony. ] A. battle-stained and grey-haired seaman i tod beside him holding a dull lautern in his i rid, and gazing sorrowfully down upon the 1 e of the sufferer. The surgeon knelt with j ; i finger on the boy's nutae. As 1 approached 1 iv all looked up. The veteran who held him 1 x?k his head, and would have spoken, but the 1 >rs gathered too chokingly in his eyes. < 1'he surgeon said: * j 11 e is going fast?poor little fellow?do you 1 5 this?" and as he spoke he lifted up a rich i Id locket, which had lain upou the hoy's j ?a?t. 44 lie has seen better days." 1 could not answer for my heart was full? 1 re was the beiug to whom, but a few hours i fore, 1 had owed my life?a poor, slight, un- 1 itected child?laying before me with death 1 eady written on his brow, and yet I had ver kuown his danger, and had never sought n out after the conflict. How bitterly my ! irt reproached nie in this hour. They noticed ' agitation, and my old friend?the seaman < it held his head?said sadly : 4 Poor little Dick, you'll never see the shore u have wished for so lopg. Buj there'll be ire than one?when your log's out," he spoke th eiuotiou, 44 to mourn over you." Suddeuly the little fellow opened his eyes aud V 44 Has he cimit' yet ?" lie arked id a low v<ut> 44 Why won't lie coine ?" <4 I aui here.'' said I, taking the little fellow ./ hand, 44 do von not know me, Dick He smiled faintly in my lace. He then said 44 You have been very kind to me, sir?kinder ? than most people are to a poor orphan boy. i have no way t<> show my gratitude, unless sou will take the Bible that is in my trunk. It's * small offering. I know, but it's all I have ol earth." I burst into tears. He resumed : 44 Doctor. I arn dying, ain't 1 ? My sight is growing dim. God bless you, Mr. Danforlh. 44 Can I do nothing for you, Dick?" said 1 44 You saved my life. 1 would coin my blood to !?uy your-." < " I have nothing to ask?I don't want to live ?onlv if it's possible let me be buried by my mother. You will find the name of the plan* and all about it iu mv trunk. 44 Anything, everything, myptMir lud." 1 said chokingly. The little fellow smiled faintlv it was like i an angel's smile- but he did not answer Hi. ( eyes were flickering in that patch of blue skv overhead. Ills mind wandered. It's a long, long way up there, but there are bright angels among them. Mother used to sav that I would meet her there. How near thev come, and I see sweet face* smiling on me from among them, Mark! Is that music?" and lilting his linger lie seemed listening for a mo uient. lie fell back, and the old veteran biiist into tears. The child was dead. Hid he. in deed hear angel's voices? Hod grant it. lr RI HIS AND Ekii LhS. v.- ? v.. c A letter was recently received in New York addressed as follows : 1 Hufitiiiiifti'r.bli'w t<> xent turn strait. Bun h> 1-VHnv in iler *t*ight; Olt Venango, iJat'a <lur goiint), V?*.* ? oil bourn out id it |?ounty franklin, she's der bounty near, D>-r llohtdttite on Liberdy ahtreet; Sliarly Taylor, he's der man; Send di? ynat -to -lunk you c?ii. At what time was Adam married? Upon hi-i ' wedding Kve. Where did Joseph go when he was fifteen years obi ? Into his sixteenth year. Starch is the best article vet discovered to show off Jinon, and the worst for manners. True wisdom is to know what is best worth knowing, and to do what is best worth doing If a man is a teetotaller, he need not always be out of spirits. "He told ine.'* says Arteinas Ward, "to git out 01 the office. I pitied him, and ivrnf. "Mine (lot! vot vill de Frenchman make next," as the Untehinan said the first time he saw a monkey. When one man says that another man's opinions are correct, it will generally be found that the opinions of both are alike. There is no permanent love but that which has duty for its elder brother; so that if one sleeps, the other watches, and honor is safe. A sailor explains the distribution of prize money to be as follows: " It is sifted through 1 ladder. What falls through goes to the ofti era; what sticks the-sailors get." A Boston paper mentions au individual there who "clasps his hands so fervently in prayer that lie an I Lr?'t tuein open when the contribu Yon l#??X e es r nt>il * Imitate the example of the locomotive. He run* along, whistles over his work, and yet never takes anything but water when he want* to 44 wet his whistle." Charity is never lost. It may be of no service to those it is bestowed on. yet it ever does a work of beauty and grace upon the heart of the giver. ' You've destroyed my peaceofmind, Betsy," said a desponding lover to a truant lass. 44 It can't do much harm. John, for t'was an ama- , zing small piece you had, any way." answered Betsy. 4 An old lady who pretends to 44know all% about it," says the only way to prevent steamheat explosions is to make the engineers 44bde their water on shore." In her opinion. 4* aii the bustin' is done by cooking the steam on board the boat." 4' Boys," asked the teacher of an infant Suuday-school class, 4* did you ever see an elephant's skin?" " Yes. sir, I did." piped a little fellow- away down at the foot. 4t Bid you, Robert? Where was it?" 44 Un an elephant, sir." A Leavenworth editor is in quest of special attractions for his papeif He says: 44 What we want for this column is personalities, amean as possible. Expense of libel suits to he defrayed by the writer?funeral expenses by u> It tens a little hard upon that poor little school hoy in Porter county, Indiana, to have administered to him a tremendous cathartic by the schoolmistress, who construed ph ysical punishment to relate simply to the bowels ! A Fourth of July orator spoke of the United States as bounded on the east by the rising sun. on the north by the aurora horealis, on the south by the procession ot the exquinoxes, and on the west by the day of judgment. Sf.ckkt ok True Gentility.? Depend upon it, religion is, in its essence, the most gentle manly thing in the world. It will alone gentilize, if unmixed with cant : aud I know ot nothing else that will alone.?Coleridge. Says a Western paper of its rival: 44 The editor ot the Times has been presented with a enhHuir* lii.'ill ** riv. " ... ..^v uvuu. xwvui id me I lHit'3?" It'T tainly our friends are as liberal with us as the Ford was with you." Testa of Scripture have often beeu inscribed upou coins. One of the most remarkable is uu t a copper coin issued by the Papal government, on which are the words, Pa cobis divitilu> " Woe to you who are rich." Recently a rector of a parish in Toledo. Ohio, in catechizing the children of his Sunday i school, asked : " Where did the wise men cone \ from?" Without a moment's hesitation, the answer eaaie from a little five-year old : " From . Boston !" Ti e father and mother of the little J catechumen are natives of the Bay State. Forty Ykars.?Forty years once seemed a long and weary pilgrimage to tread. It now seems but a step. And yet along the way are broken shriues where a thousand lioj?es have wasted into ashes ; footprints sacred under their drifting dust , green mounds, the grass of winch is fresh with the watering of tears; shadoweven, which we would not forget. An Oi.d Chiokkn.?lu attempting to carve \ fowl one day, a gentleman fouud considerable difficulty in separating its joints, aud exclaimed Against the man who had sold him au old hen for a young ehloken. 44 My dear," said the euraged man's wife. 14 don't talk so much about the aged and re spec table Mr. B.; he planted the first hill ot eorn that was planted in our town." "I know that," said her husband, 44and I knl *F - *?? ? * * 11119 neii scratcDed it up.'' AGRICULTURAL. The Southern Farmer (Memphis,) in a nio^t admirable article upon the needs of that section uuder the head of 4> Investments Becoming a Farmer," says that in other years the whole aim of the Southern planter has been more land, more negroes ! Now it should be and must be. less land and better culture?improved seed and a larger crop?tustetul residences, borne culture and comfort, books and papers, and all the surroundings of improved and in telligent society. The "land pike " hog must be traded off for the Chester, or some other breed of equal value ; cows that give ten quarts }f milk a day for those that giye twenty ; old farming tools for the better new. In short, the life of the progressive nineteenth century instead of the life of the dark ages, must be the Soal of every Southern farmer's ambition. However brave these words may be, we believe that the Utopia they tell of will some time be in a measure realized ; and that such teaching as we have quoted is among the means that will hasten its comiug. The Country Gentleman (Albany) pertinently ?ays : 44 The regret is often expressed that weeds are increasing each year. If the strength of the soil that now goes to useless weeds could be turned into remunerating crops, it would amount in the aggregate to at least one hundred j millious of dollars a year. > 44 One reason for this iucrease is, cultivating a great deal of land with a small force, aud w> I peeiallvjtoi absence of alI nrvv