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JDcBotci) to fJolitits, literature, 3lgvtntlttt, Science, jJloralitu, iRnir ciuval Intelligence.
VOL. k STROUDSBURG, MONROE COUNTY, PA. MAY S, 1853. NO. 28. PiibliSleil by Tlu&dbrc Sclioch. TMS 7) dollars' per'aTinntim in advnhce Tw'o dollars and xnVinrter, half yearly and if not paidbe lore tHe endof the yeV. T wo 'donars.and,a half. Those k'ho receive their papers by a'carrier orstage drivers mployetf by tho- proprietor, will be chaYged 37 1-i! em .No papers tliicontinued until all arrearages are paid, except atthebption of the Editor. JH? Adrbrt4.ements riot exceeding one square (six teen lines will be inserted three weeks for one dollar, and twenty-five cents for every subsequent insertion. The Clrarpe for one and three insertions the same. A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers. TE? AlHetters addressed tb the Editor must be post- IJOB PR1KTIG. IFaviir a general assortment of large, elegant, plain indorliBniental Typ'e.wc are prepared J to execute every description of Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Note's, Blank Hcccipts Justices, I.egal and other Blanks, Pamphlets, &c. printed ith neatness and despatch, on reasonable term, Apr THE OFFICE OF THE .Teffcrsoiiiau Republican. The Mother's Grave. "Father,a wake the storm is load, The rain is falling- fast; Let me gefyo my mother's grave, And screen it from the blast. She cannotsleep she will not rest The wind is.roaring so; We prayedLhat she might lie in pence Mv father, let us go." 1 Thy mother llecps too firm a sleep To heed tleuvind that blows; There angel-iharms that hush the noise Prom reacmg.her repose. ;ller spirit, in creams of the blessed land, 16 sitting Et Jesus' feel; Child, nestle ll&c in mine arms and pray Our rest ma jibe as sweet." OuLitanr. 1 .From all boresback biters, inquisitive people, tell-tales, and hollow-hearted evil doers, deliver us. From long-winded, prosy essays, ha rangues and hail storing, from high vinds of adversity and rich relations, delivpr us. From whimsical wives, pet dogs and fashionable daughters and 100 dollar shawls, deliver us. ' j From other people's babies and Itheir mint stick, from harangues about smart children and their capers, deliver ur From rheraatism and lumbago, quack doctors, drugs, pills and potations, diliver m. From smoky shimneys, scolding ' rives and washdays, deliver, us. From amateur poets and love suanets, fencing-masters and fish-hooks, deliver IE. From bogus money delinque sub seribers'and protested notes, delivirr us. From horse-jockeys Yankee-i)edlers, street brokers and undertakers, deliver us. i .From all king-craft,i witch-craft and priest-craft, 'Good Lord' deliver as. Signification or 'Erie.1 Tie ques tion is often asked 'why Bo many storms and disasters upon Lake Erie? l&hy the difference between that and tls other Lakes of the United States and British America?' It is said to be causellbyt he extreme shallownes of its water;! which are more easily disturbed than tlswaters of its neighbors. Hence the naoy 'Erie and Indian name signifying 'insi,' 'the mad lake.' This name, like aBlIndian proper names, is very signified of the boisterous charater of Lake Ertfl A Cube for Sceatcbbs on Bobses. Take white or red lead, mesjit with oil, and rub it a few times on the part diseased, and a cure will be effected. The scurf should be washed off clean every day with warm soap suds, and the lead thoroughly rubbed in. A couple of spoonfulls of sulpher given to &e horse tce a week, will be of service to him. I have found this .to cure when everything else laiiea. too e of Beekmantown So says W. N. Ohatterton, town, N. I. in the Genesee jfarmcr. Anecdote fob Parexts.-'IIb the La- die's' Repository for April, isiho follow ing anecdote, which the editor heard re- jasea in a lamily circle a Jejr evenings few evenings flom Cali for- j since: ' "A brother just returned nia was present Jn a congregation of brother Owen, when a babelin the arms of its mother bogan to cry.l A thing so unusual in California, attracted not a lit tle attention, and the mothek rose to re tire. "Don't leave," said the preacher, "the sound of that babe's ice is more trtorosting to many in the congregation, tkas that of my own. It is perhaps, the ewcetost music many a iflfii has heard since, long time ago, he t6& leave of his distant home." Tho effect was instan taneous and powerful, and large portion cf the oongragation moltcdfcnto tears!" XTJAn old balled thus gives the geDe aloy of snow : 1 ly father was the North Wind, Iy mother's Dame was M&fer j , Parson Winter married &m, The Wife's Forethought. BY SYLVANUS COBB, JR. Anson Kimball had been married about a month. His business was at tin-making, and he had a shop of his own, and his whole stock was paid for, so he felt quite independent, the future looking all clear and bright. His wife was one of those mild, loving creatures that hang fondly upon the interests and affections of the husband, and whose soul may sink or swim with the fortunes of the being it has chosen for a partner. One evening the young couple were sitting in their comfortable apartment, the husband engaged in reading, the wife working busily with her needle. 1 1 must be up early to-morrow morn - ing, Linnie, for our party starts shortly after sunrise," said Anson, as he laid down his paper and leaned back in his chair. "Then you are going, are you ?" re marked Linnie. There was just enough of regret in her tone to render her voice less lively than usual, but it must have been a very keen observer that could have noticed it. "Oh, to be sure," returned the young man, in a gay, laughing tone. " You know the hands in the old shop go on tins salt water nshmg excursion every year, and of course I must go with them. We can't take our ladies with us on such a trip, but you shall have a good time to make up for it." " You must not think, Anson, that I envy you the pleasure you anticipate, for I am sure nothing can give me more sat isfaction than to know that vou are en joying yourself." "I believe you, Linnie ; and I assure you I shall enjoy myself on this trip ex ceedingly. So you will be happy too, eh !" "Certainly," returned the young wife; but the word seemed spoken reluctantly. " Come, come Linnie, you don't speak as you feel. Now, you don't want me to go," said Anson, with a tinge of disap pointment in his tone. " If you think it would be for your good to go, of course I should want you to."" " And how can it be otherwise ?" " You won't be offended, Anson, if I tell you ?" " Poh, what an idea. I be offended at you ? Come, tell me your thoughts." " As the young man spoke, he moved his chair to the side of his wife and put his arms about her neck. " Well," returned Linnie, in an earnest but yet pleasant tone, "I was thinking of the expense." "Ha, ha, ha the expense. Why, it won't be over five dollars at the farthest." " But five dollars are considerable. You know we are young yet, and all we have is the house we live in, and your small shop." "And is not that enough? How many of my young friends are there who are e ren so well off as that V UI know that you are fortunate, Anson; but vet none are beyond the reach of misfortune. For a few years we had bet- , ter live as economically as possible with consistent enjoyment." " So I intend to ; but what is five dol lars to the amount I shall be able to lay up in a year ?" "Why it will make that amount eight or ten dollars short." "That's strange logic, Linnie." " Not at all, Anson. You will spend five dollars in money, and lose the time of two working days.7' " So I shall ; but I tell you, Linnie, I'll work enough harder to pay for it when I get back. So, I may, go, mayn't I?" " Of course you may," returned Lin nie with a smile ; but I suppose I shall have to go without a little sum I had wanted." " How much was it ?" "Five dollars." " 0, ou can have that, of course, and more too, if you want it." " That will be enough." Anson Kimball took out his wallet and handed his wife out a five dollar bill and the conversation turned upon other and various matters. Anson Kiniball wai like thousands of others who are situated in like circum stances. With a free and open heait he marked out bis future for a field of enjoyment, without taking care to mako much prep aration for the storms he might be likely to meet on the way. And then again, like others, he mistook the character of life's real enjoyment. He lost sight of the higher and more noble sources of hap piness, and dwelt too much in the satis faction of tho physical appetites. True, he enjoyed himself, and kept clear of all extremes, but yet he failed to see that his enjoyments were nearly all epheme ral that he was laying up little or noth ing for time to come. A year passed away, and the annual fishing excursion came in course along. " Well. Linnie," said the young man, " to-morrow the boys go down the har bor, and I am going with them. Of course you have objections !" "No," returned the.wife, in her usual pleasant tone, "if you can afford it." " 0, there's no trouble about that." "Don't you remember the conversa tion we had a year ago on this same sub ject!" asked Linnie. " Yes, I remomber you talked then a- j bout saving money, but we ain't any poor- er now than we should have bcek if I had staid at home." "But tell me, Anson, have you laid up as much during the past year as you ex pected to ?" " Why, as for that matter, I haven't laid up much of anything. The fict is, Linnie, you have drawn rather har'ler on me than I expected." f " But I haven't spent any more jboney for trivial affairs and amusements than , l J T Jl iT-Jl. T i you nave, Vinson, ana jl uou i lumt x have so much." i " 1 didn't mean to blame you, myjdear. I only mentioned the circumstance lo ex plain why I hadn't laid up anythhg. But never mind, there's time enougl yet, and besides, we've 8njoyed ourselves. I think after this fishing excursion is over, . however, I shall begin to dock my e;pen ses a little, for I must lay up a little lome thing the next year." f " We certainly have every chafce to save money," returned Linnie, " for the shop and house are ours without rent, and we are free from debt." Anson Kimball started at that lait re mark, and turned his face toward the window, but his wife did not appeir to notice his emotion. "You know, Anson," continued Mrs. Kimball, "that you promised me I slould i have five dollars when you went or an other excursion, and I shall certiunly hold you to that promise." " Of course that's fair," returned the young man, " but do you need it n(w ?" " Yes." " What are you going to do with i V " You won't be offended !" No. " Then, to tell you the truth, I little sum." oie The young man looked earnestly at his wife, and though he evidently wiihed to say something about her runnirg in debt, yet, for reasons best known to lim self, he kept quiet, and handed oveithe five dollars. I Anson joined his old shop-mates on other excursion, and when he returnel he thought some about beginning to cu off some of his unnecessary expenses, but he introduced no new system of operations. Two or three times did he refrain torn indulging some petty appetite, but he soon settled back into the old track, andjthe small bits of money slipped away as fast as ever. " Three years had passed away shce the 3Toung couple were married, andjfew could have wished for more social cm fort than they had enjoyed during Jthe greater part of that time. Fo; a month or two, however, tho young nan had been gradually growing more soper and thoughtful, until at length he hadjbe come really sad and down-hearted His wife endeavored to cheer him jup, though she was unable to learn tho caise of his dejection. , One eveningjustbefore dusk, Linnieiaw two men pass her window and enter jier husband's shop. One of them she kney to be the Sheriff, and the circumstance tpu bled her not a little. She waited half an hour for her husband to come to supper, but he did not and her sufferigs began to be acute. A thousand conjje- ; tures flitted through her mind, but tley brought her no consolation, and at length she determined to go to the shop d(or and see if she could not over-hear some thing of what was passing, feeling tlat such a course would at least be pardona ble. Linnie stole out from the front dicr and went towards the shop. She placed her ear to the key-hole and listened, tut she could only hear an indistinct hum of of voices, among which was that of ler husband. The latter was evidently sup plicating, for his tones were earnest aad impassioned. Soon there was a move ment of feet towards the door, and Ljn nie hastened back to the house, and re long her husband entered. He loolad pale and troubled, and with a nervous movement of his face, as though he would have concealed the grief that bore hjm down, he took his seat at the table. Poor Linnie watched her companion with an anxiety almost agonizing, but spe spoke not a word until after Anson hid sat back from the table. The .food ie mained almost untouched upon his plate when he moved away, and he would ha7e left the house had not his wife stopped him. "Husband," said she, in a soft, gentle tone, at tho same time laying her hard upon his arm and gazing imploringly in to his face, "what is it that troubles you!" "Nothing, Linnie," half fretfully re turned he, as he made a motion as if to remove his wife's hand from his arm. " There is something, Anson I know there is. Come, do not keep it from me," "There is nothing that you need know." "But a wife need know all that can af fect her husband thus. What is it, An son ?" "It is nothing but my own business, and a wife need not know all that." This answer was harsh, and the tears gushing to Linnie's eyes. "My dear husband," she said in tender accents, "to whom, 0, to whom, should you tell your sorrows, if not to her who loves you better than life itself I" "Forgive me, forgive me, Linnie I meant not to wound your feelings. I am very miserable and hardly knew what I said." "Then tell me all. Come sit down in my easy chair, for your brow is hot and4 feverjsh, There jjow tell me." After the young man had taken the proffered seat he gazed for a moment in to the face of his wife, and a look of deep anguish rested upon his features. "Linnie," he said, " I may as well tell you all, but you must not chide me, nor must you despond, for all is not so dark as might be. I am deeply in debt, and to-morrow my shop and all that it con tains, will be advertised by the sheriff for sale. ' " In debt," murmured the wife. "Yes. During the last two years I have been purchasing stock on credit, and paying for it as it has been convenient At first it seemed an easy way of doing, but it has proved fatal ; for when I re ceived the pay for my goods, I forgot, or at least did not sufficiently heed, that all that money was not mine. I forgot that more than halt of all the money 1 received belonged to the men of whom I had pur chased stock. Two notes fell due day before yesterday. The man to whom I gave them sold them in the way of busi ness to a western firm, and now they must be paid. To-morrow, an officer will be placed in my shop, and nearly every thing will have to be sold. It is not the loss of my stock and tools that I care so much about, for I have health and strength and I can earn more, but it is the disgrace of the thine- To think that I should fall like this, nie a healthy, stout, good me chanic." " How much do you owe ?" asked Lin nie, in a trembling voice. "Both notes amount to four hundred dollars." "And haven't you any part of it I" "Only aboutfifty dollars that lean col lect readily." ; And if these two notes were paid, you would be safe V " Yes." "Then, thank God, you will not suffer!" exclaimed Linnie. And overcome by her feelings, she sank upon her husband's neck, and burst into tears. "Linnie, Linnie," cried the young man, "what do you mean !" "Wait a moment, my husband." The wife brushed the tears from her cheeks as she spoke and left the room, and in a few moments she returned bear ing in her hand a small book. There was a bright smile upon her fair face, and hus band looked upon her with her astonish ment. "Here my husband," she said, stepping to his side and placing the book in his hand, at the same time winding her arm about his neck, "if you carry that to the bank they will give you three hundred and seventy-five dollars for it." "Three hundred and seventy-five dol lars !" repeated the astounded man, hard ly crediting the evidence of his own sen ses. " Yes, Anson," returned the wife, sin king into her husband's lap. "That is money that I have been laying up during the last three years." " lrou laid it up, Linnie ! But where could Tou have got it?" "You gave it to me yourself to spend for trifles. You know I havo claimed my share of such money. Do not blame me, Anson ; but I feared that you did not at tach sufficient importance to the aggre gate of the small sums you were almost daily spending. Once or twice I would have remonstrated, but you could not be made easily to see it. I was but a young girl, and I feared to set up against my husband, so I resorted to this means of proving my position. 0, my dear hus band, you cannot know what sweet pleasure I experience in finding that my experiment has been the means of such good." "If your pleasure is equal to mine, then you must be happy indeed," exclaimed Anson, as he drew his fond wife to his bosom. " God bless your Linnie, and make me able to repay you for this. Now I see to whom you havo owed the little debts you have sometimes contracted, and which I have helped you to pay." " Yes," returned Linnie with a smile. " It was to' you I owed them. And yet," she added, with a meaning look, and in a lower tone of voice, "I have not drawn quite so much from the amusement fund as " "Hush, Linnie. I know I have epent more than I was aware of, but my eyes are open now, and I see it all." " And you do not blame me for what I havo done T" " Blame you !" exclaimed Anson, im printing a warm kiss upon his wife's brow. " Let my future course show you how fondly you are cherished, and how faith fully I will be guided by your judgment. On the next day Anson Kiniball paid off those who would have sold hisstock, and ho had the pleasure of tearing his two notes in pieces. He spent no more money foolishly, and as he found the pro ducts of his labor boginning to gather in his hands his home grew brighter and his enjoyments were increased. By stea dy degrees he arose to a position of hon orable affluence, but through all his suc cesses he never lost sight of the gratitude he owed to the gentle, faithful being who had first opened his eyes to a knowledge of the secret of success, and saved him from pecuniary disgrace. He was an honored and respected man, but he felt that he owed it all to his Wife's Fore-, thought. j 1 To tell if young peoplr abe in LOVE See if they relish salt pork; if they do, you can consider tbenj convalescent, From the N. Y. National Dciiiocral. im and 1853. This is a fast age. We live at locomo tive speed. A century of life is crowded into a year. The last seventy years al most equal in rapid development of the race, any previous thousand years of the world '8 history. A distinguished writer in the cause of Liberty, in the Revolu tion, in surveying our country's future, then attempted to be choked to death, by the red hand of British monarchy, said in effect, "Never since the time of Noah, hath a people been placed in our position. The future is in our hands, and we have to begin the business of the icorhl anew." Nobly has our country fulfilled this say ing of the prophetic writer of the Revolu tion. Let '76 and '53 stand face to face for a moment, and the world will be struck dumb by the miracle of contrast which they present. Or, so bring the matter home more palpably, suppose Washington risen from his grave, for a little while, and enthroned on the highest peak of the Alleghanics, surveying as with a supernatural scope of vision, tile Land, from ocean to ocean, from noth ern snows to the Gem of the Antilles. What a contrast to the days of '76 would meet the gaze of the great man! In '76 the United States consisted of 13 colonies, pent up between the Alleghanies and the Atlantic, with a population of barelv three millions, struggling for life itself a gainst the most powerful the most brutal monarchy of the age. In 1853, the United States consists of thirty-one great Republics, cemented m indissoluble union, with a population of twenty-five million; her vast tentory fronts alike towards the rising and the setting sun, the Atlantic and the Pacific are hei eastern and western boundaries, they are not settled yet; by no means finished; Destiny will take care of them. Washington risen from his tomb and sur- veying the land from the topmost height, need not let his vision be checked by eith er Niagara Falls or the Gulf of Mexico; there is a great deal of United States yet to come, beyond culf and cataract. .Ni agara will yet sing the hymn of a Repub lican continent. Call up Franklin, and let him contrast the industrial resources of '76 with '53. We can imagine the state of wonder which would light up his hearty, good-humored face. In his clay, one John Fitch, and the unextinguishable laughter of a crowd of merchants and other respectable people assembled on a Philadelphia wharf, tried the expriment of propelling a boat by the force of steam. In his day, also, Oliver Evans, another madman of the Fitch stamp, amid the pity or contempt of all men of common sense, tried to propel a wagon on the Lancaster 'pike, (near Phil adelphia,) by the force of steam, suc ceeded, too, but was set down as a mere theorist and dreamer by all practical men. Well; Doctor, look over the land, now! The Continent is net-worked with iron ways. The Locomtive is heard every where, it is never silent, from the cata ract to the Gulf. And the Hudson, the Ohio, tho Mississippi, the ocean in the east, and the ocean in the west, send up night and day, the smoke of the steam boat to Heaven; the very steamboat.Doc tor, which John Pitch, in imperfect form, tried one day on the Delaware river, and in minature, upon the New York Kolch. From the Aroostook to the Bay of San Francisco, Doctor, the steam-engine dumb matter fired into strong, terrible life, at the command of science never rests, not for an hour, nay, not for a mo ment, out of the twenty-four. Through the still night you hear its mighty breath ings; its fires rise through the darkness from ocean to ocean; its iron tramp is never still upon iron ways; and upon riv er and sea, its hoarso anthem never dies. But, as if this was not enough, Doctor as if steam was not fast enough for this hurrying age here comes the Ericssoi, gliding up New York Bay, with its new motor, destined to dethrone steam, even as steam annihilated the stage coaches, lumbering wagons and snail-like moving hand-labor of '76. Suppose that Franklin has learned nothing since his transit to another sphere, (and if the rapping utterances which the mentebank supernaturalists put in Frank lin's mouth, be true, he has sadly gone back in every respect,) let us imagine him, risen from his grave, and confronted with Nineteenth Century Ericsson. How tho great Doctor would open his eyes, as he found 'himself on board tho Ericsson, gliding down the Bay of New York, and with the inventor of the new motor by his side, cxplaiuiug in plain tortus the features of his invention! Put Franklin and Ericsson side by side and two centu ries look wonder-struck on each other's face. Not the expansion of territory, a lone, nor the increase of population, nor yet the miraculous advance of all indus trial interests, nor even yet, the wondrous life, given by science to dumb .machinery, would excite the surprise of Washington and Franklin, could they come back into our world. The greatest wonder of all, would be the great progress which tho People, the masses have made since the era of the crossing of the Delaware. Ihen, tuo masses wore a distinctive dress, which set them apart from the. wealthy class, and; wrote serldom on their very externals; please God, that batoaiu uiat scene they were ridden down by odious lawj'shall be a talisnmn uP?n whiqli memory, gathered from the charnel house of the ! shall ineffaceably inscribe, rncf shrVi lis Tmnrisnnmonf: for Tln.ht. nnd I'") -v. t j other fragments ,of tho legal Moloch of 1 the red and black ages; now, the mas ses aro men, and not serfs or machines, and they have risen into full manhood, with the fragments of many an infernal law, trampled firmly under foot. Now, the wassess know no such word as "Go back!" in their upward march; their fu ture is in the care of a benign Destiny, and all-paternal God. It is a good thought, aud full of conso lation for every lover of his kind, that despite of all tho clouds that have low ered upon our country for the last seven ty years despite the thousand obstacles which have from time to time blockaded the pathway of the people yet still, "the world does move!" and the Destiny of tho Country and the People cannot go back, but must inevitably inarch onward. The next seventy years will tell the story. From the Musical World and Times. Father TaylGr the Sailor's Preacher. You have never heard Fatheb Tay lor, the Boston Seaman's preacher? Well you should go down to his church some Sunday. It is not at the court-end of the town. The urchins in the neigh borhood arc guiltless of shoes or bonnets. You will see quite a sprinkling of "Po lice" at the corners. Green Erin, tooiis well represented: with a dash of Africa checked off with "douch faces." Let us go into the church: there are no stained-glass windows no richly dra peried pulpit no luxurious seats to sug gest a nap to your sleepy conscience. No odor of patchouli, or nonpareil, or bouquet de violet will be wafted across your pa trician nose. Your satin and broadcloth will fail to procure you the highest seat in the synagogue, they being properly reserved for the "old salt3." Here they come! one after another, with horny palms and bronzed faces. It stirs ray blood, like the sound of a trum pet, to see them. The seas tbey have crossed! the surging billows they have breasted! the louely, dismal, weary nights they have kept watch! the harpies in port who have assailed their generous sympathies! the sullen plash of the sheet ed dead in its vast ocean sepulchre! what stirring thoughts and emotions do their weather-beaten faces call into play! God bless the sailor! Here they come; sure of a welcome conscious that they are no intruders on aristocratic landsmens soil sure that each added face will send a thrill of pleasure to the heart of the good old man, who folds them all, as one family, to his patriarchal bosom. There he is! How reverently he drops on his knee and utters that silent prayer. Now he is on his feet. With a quick motion he adjusts his spectacles, and says to the tardy tar, doubtful of a berth, "Room here, brother!" pointing to a.seat in the yulpit. Jack don't know about that! He can climb the rigging when Boreas whistles his fiercest blast: he can swing into the long boat with a stout heart, when creaking timbers have par ted beneath him: but to mount the pul pit! Jack doubts his qualifications, and blushes through his mask of bran. "Room enough, brother!" again re-assures him; and, with a little extra fumbling at his tarpaulin and hitching at his waist band, ho is soon as much at home as tho' he were on his vessel's deck. The hvmn is read with a heart-tone. There is no mistaking either the poet's meaning or the reader's devotion. And now, if you have a 'scientific musical ear,T (which, thank heaven, I Have not,) you may criticise the singing, while I am not ashamed of the tears that steal down my face, as I mark the effect of good Old Hundred (minus trills and flourishes) on Neptuues honcst,hearty,whole-souled sons. The text is announced. There fol lows no arrangement of dickeys, or brace lets, or eyeglasses. You forget your ledger and the fashions, the last prima donna, and that your neighbor is not ono of the "upper ten," as you fix your , eyo (with me) on that good old man, and are swept away from worldly moorings by the flowiug tide of his simple, earnest el oquence. You marvel that these uttered truths of his, never struck your thought less mind before. My pen fails to con vey to you the play of expression on that earnest face those emphatic gestures the starting tear or the thrilling voice; but they all tell on "Jack." Aud now an infant is presented for baptism. The pastor takes it on onqtarm. 0, surely he is himself a father, else it would not be poised so gently. Now ho holds it up, that all may view its dimpled beauty, and says: ''la there one here who doubts, should this child die to-day, its right among the blessed?" One murmur ed spontaneous 2oi bursts from Jacks' lips, as the baptismal drops lavo sin less temples. Lovingly the little lamb is folded, with a kiss and a blessing, to' the heart of tho earthly shepherd, ere the'ma ternal arms receive it. Jack looks on and weepsl and bpwican he help weeping! He was once as ,pu,re as that blessed innocent! His mother the sod now covers her often invoked heaveu's blessing on her &on and well he remembers tho touch of her gentle band jand the sound of her loving voice as she j murmured tho imploring prayer for hiror and how has her sailor boy rcdeemeOJiis . . , -1 youthful promise? lie dasuea awajiiia scalding tears, with his horny palra;lbutP I 'Gd anil Ein no more. Fat Fern