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111pmin g Democrat,
HARVEY SICKLER, Publisher. VOL VII. Ppraiittj pcmocraf, A Democratic weekly Ttmi—l copy 1 jer, (in advance) $2,00 ;if not paid within six months, $2.50 will b churned NO papor will bo DISCONTINUED, until all ar oarages aro paid; nnloss at tho option of puMishor. RATES OF ADVERTISING. TEH LUTKO COHSTITVTK A SQUARE. One square one or threo insertions $1,50. Every subsequent insertion less than 6 50 fiasL ESTATC, VEBSOHAL PROPERTT, and GBHSBAL ADVERTISIHG, as may be agreed upon. FATKKT MEMCIHXS and other advertisements oy the column: One column, 1 year, S6O Half column, 1 year Third column, 1 year, Fourth column, 1 year, 20 Business Cards of one square or less, per year, With paper, SB. X3T EOITORIAL or LOCAL ITEM advertising—with out Advertisement —15cts. per line. Liberal terms made with permanent advertisers. EXECUTORS, ADMIKISTBATUKS andAl'Dl tOß'S NOTICES, of the usual length, $2,50 OBITUARIES,- eieeeding ten lines, each ; RELI GIOUS and LITERARY NOTICES, not of general Interest, one half the regular rates. or Advertisements must be handed in by Tcas- BAT NOOE, to insure insertion the same week. JOB WORK •fall kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit the times. All TRANSIENT ADVERTISEMENTS and JOB WOKE must he paid for, when ordered justness gtoUcr*. R7& W E LITTLE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW Office on Tioga Street Tuukhacoeck Pa WM. M. PIATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW\Of fice in Stark's Brick Block Tioga St., Tunk nannock, Pa. H S. COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON • Newton Centre, Luierno County Pa. L, PARRISH, ATTORNEY AT LAW • Offi -e at the Court House, in Tunkhannock. Wyoming Co, P* W~ RHOADS, PHYSICIAN k SURGEO N • will attend promptly to all calls in his pro fession. May be found at his Office at the Drug Store, or at his residence on Putman Sreet, formerly occupied by A. K. Peckham Esq. DENTISTRY. DR. L. T. BURNS has permanently located in Tunkhannock Borough, and respectfully tenders his professional services to its citizens. Office on second floor, formerly occupied by Dr. Oilman. 6030tf. PORTRAIT, LANDSCAPE, A Mil SSNTHENTAI IFAINTZNG, Sty y+". HUG EH, Artist. Rooms over the Wyoming National bank,in Stark's Bnck Block, TUNKHANNOCK, PA. Life-size Portraits painted from Auibrotypos or Photographs—Photographs Painted in Oil Colors All orders for paintings executed according to or der, or no charge made, KT Instructions given in Drawing, Sketching, I Portaait and Landscape Painting, in Oil or water Colore, and in all branches of the art, Tunk , July 31, 'g7 -vgaSO-tf. NEW TAILORING SHOP The Subscriber having had a sixteen years prac lic&l •iptriftoct in cutting and making clothing now offers his services in this line to the citisens of ■icgOLSoi and vicinity. Those wishing to get Fits will find his ahop the fijj* to get them, -nSG-6mof Jot, R, SatTH boltonT+ouseT JIAIIKISHTJKG, PKNNA. •' BT?H1 "' Ting Ut *'Y purchased the EH LEE HOUSE property, has already com mencediuch alterations and improvements as will render this o d and popular House equal, if not supe rior, to any Hotel in the City of Harrisburg. fu iVSr toe * P &tron * is refpect- GEO. J. BOLTON WALL'S HOTEL, Y'HIS establishment has recently been refltted an * furnished in the latest style. Every attention wh tt.T TeD V eomfort anJ convenience of those rno patronize the House. NORTH BRANCH HOTEL, MESHOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA. w . H. CORTRIGHT, Prop'r H tbe proprietorship of the above lender the h' ' ander 'gned will spare no efforts • •" - 10 w..awiiGßi. MEANS' HOTEL 'OW" ABJUa T * B- B. BARTLET, ILATEEFT,, BBANIA*DHORGA, ETAIAA B Y. PROPRIETOK. nd h BE?T ARR??J?D'H U ° n# * LAB9ItST is fitted up Hi th. "f, ln tbe Wd no a r . ln °^ m ,® d,rn " nd "nproved style, (JTTMTHLN KTAH • it | PLOIMAT MD F v 5 .Vf p r n 8 Ho for all, * V i, s4l, ly, ' OIIIELL k BAIIATYIE S CQLIMI A LARGE STOCK! OF SPUING GOODS, JUST RECEIVED AND For Sale CHEJLP, ALL KINDS OF Produce TAKEN IN EXCHANGE FOR GOODS AT 1 BUNNELL * BANNATYNETB Tunkhannock, Pa. vbnil. TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA. •• WEDNESDAY, AUG. 7,1867. INTERESTING TRUTHS. To slumber in the open slr, On meadow twenty perches square, Without a mate the space to share— That'a roomy! To stay in Morpheas' arms until At midnight, pitchy, dark and chill, Aroused by foot-pad's whistle shrill— That's gloomy I To leave at eventide your spouse At work alone on shirt or blouse ; Whilst in a club-room you carouse— That's roviDg ! To sit at home, and there amuse One whoso companionship you choose. And would not for a kingdom lose— That's loving ! To take on balcony your chair la summer, after Sol's hot glare, And snitf the perfumed evening air— That's breezy ! To find, just as your box of snuff You ope, a very sudden puff Give to you more tuan quantum, sriff— That's sueezy! To make, as Barnums do, untaught, A princely fortune out of naught, By catching dupes, yet ne'er caught— Thai's clever! To find yourself so very rich, That in the gutter gold you pitch, And don't wish any more of "sich"— That's never! THE POOR WASHERWOMAN. "I declare, I Lave a mind to put this bed quilt into the wash to-day. It does not really need to go, either ; but 1 think I'll send it down." "Why will you put it in, Mary, if it does not teed to go ?'' asked her good old aunt in her quiet and expressive way. | "Why, you see, aunt, we have but a ■mall wash to-day ; so small that Susan will get through at one o'clock at the la test, and I shall have to pay her the same as though she worked till night; 60—" "Stop a moment, dear," said the old la dy gently, "stop a moment and think.— Suppose you were in the same situation as poor Susan is, obliged, as you tell me, to toil over the, wash tub six davs qui of, the sever., for the bare necessaries of life, j would you r.ot be glad once in a while to ; get through before nicht, to have a few hours of day-light to labor for yourself: and family, or better still, a few hours to rest ? Mary, dear, it is a hard, hard way for a woman to earn a living ; begrudge ! not the poor creature an easy day, This is the tourth dav in succession she has ris- j on by candle light, and plodded through the cold here and there to her customers' houses, and toiled away existence. Let her go at noon, if 6he gets through ; who knows but that she- may have come from the sick bed of some loved one, and counts the hours, yes, the minutes, till returning fearing that she may be one too late ? 1 Put it back on the bed, and sit down here, while I tell you what one poor washerwo- i man endured because her employer did as you would to make out the wash." And the old woman took off her glasses and wiped away the tears that from some cause bad gathered in her aged eyes, and then with a tremulous voice related the promised story, "There was never a more blithesome bridal than that of Ada R. None ever had higher hopes ; more blissful anticipa j tions. She married the man of her ehoice, one of whom any woman might be proud. Few, few, indeed, had a sunnier life in prospect than she had. "And for ten years there fell no shadow on her path. Her home was one of beau tv and real comfort; her husband the nme kind lovmg man as in the days of courtship; winning laurels every year in his profession ; adding new comforts to his home, and new joys to his fireside. — And besides these blessings God had giv en another: a little crib stood by the bed side, its tenant a golden haired baby boy, the image of its noble father, and dearer than ought else conld offer. "But I must not dwell on"those happy days, my story has to do with other days. It was with them as it has often been with others ; just when the cup was the sweet est it was dashed away. A series of mis fortimes and reverses occurred very rap idly, and swept away from them everything but iove and their babe. Spared to each other and to that, they bore a brave heart, and in a distant city began a new fortune. Well aod strongly did they struggle, and at length began once more to see the sun light of prosperity shine upon their home. But a little while it stayed and then the shadows fell. The husband sickened and laid for many months upon a weary couch, languishing not only with mental and bodi ly pain, but oftentimes for food and medi cine. AH that she could do the wife per formed with a faithful hand. She went from one thing to another, till at length, she, who had worn a satin garment on her bridal day, toiled at the washtub for the scantiest living. In a dreary winter, long before light she would rise morning after morning, and labor for the dear ones of her only home. Often she had to set off through the cold deep snow, and grope her way to kitchens which were sometimes smoky and gloomy and toil there at rob bing, rinsing and starching, not unfreqnent ly wading knee deep into the drifts to hang out the clothes that froze even ere she had fastened them to the line* And, when night came, with her scanty earning she would grope through the cold and snow to her oftimea lightlcfls and flreless home, for her husband was too 6ick to tend even the fire, or strike a light, And ®b, with what a " To Speak his Thoughts is Every Freeman's Right. " shivering heart would she draw near fear ing she would be too late! It is a fact for six weeks at one time she never saw the face of her husband or her child, save by the lamp light, except on Sabbath. How glad she would have been to have had, once in a while, a small washing gathered for her," "One dark, winter morning, as she was preparing a frugal breakfast, and getting everything ready beforo &he left, her hus band called her her to his bedside. "Ada," said he, almost in a whisper, "I want you to try and come home early to-night; be home before the light goes out; Ada." "I'll try," answered she, with a choked utterance. "Do try, Ada, I have a strange desire to see your face by day-light. To-day is Friday; I have not seen it since Sunday. I must look upon it once again." "Do you feel worse ?' 6he inquired. "No, no, I think not, but I want to see your face once more by sunlight. I can not wait till Sunday." Gladly would she have tarried by his bedside till ihe sunlight had stolen through the little window; but it might not be. — Money was wanted, and she must go forth to labor. She left her husband. She reached the kitcbeu of her employer, and with a troubled face, waited for the basket to be brought. A smile played on her wan face as she assorted its contents. She could get through easily by two o'clock ; yes, and if she hurried, perhaps by one.— Love and anxiety lent new strength to her weary arms, and five minutes after tbe clock struck one, she was just about emp tying the tubs, when the mistress came in with a couple of bed quilts, saying; "As you have a small wash to-day, Ada I think you may do these yet." After the mistress had turned her back a cry of ago ny, wrung from the deepest fountain of the washer-woman's heart, gushed to her lips. Smothering it as best she could she set to work again, and rubbed, rinsed, and hung out. It was half past three when she start ed for home, an hour too late!" and the aged narrator sobbed. "An hour too late," she continued after a pause. "Her husband was dying; yes almost gone! He had strength to whis per a few words to his half frantic wife, to tall her, Knot lie lonnrerl to Wilt ,pnrvn her face; that Tie couTa not seener then, he lav in the shadow of death. One hour she pillowed his head upon her suffering heart and then be was at rest." "Mary, Mary, dear," and there was a soul touching emphasis in the aged wo man's words, "be kind to yonr washer wo man. Instead of striving to make her day's work as long as may he, shorten it, lighten it. Few women will go out wash ing daily unless their needs are pressing.— No woman on her bridal day expects to la bor in that way : and be sure Alary, when she is constrained to Jo so, it is the last resort. That poor woman, laboring now so hard for you, has not always been a wash er woman. She has seen better days no doubt, and I know she has passed thro' terrible trials, too. I can read ber story in her pale face. Be kind to her; pay her what she asks, and let her go home as early as possible, "You have finished in good time to-day Susan," said Mrs. M., as the washer woman with her old cloak and hood on, entered the pleasant room to get the money she had earned. "Yes, ma'am I have; and my heart, ma'- am, is relieved of a heavy load, I was to afraid 1 should be kept till uighL and I am needed at home." "Is there sickness there ?" said the aunt Tears gushed to the woman's eyes as she answered; "Ah, ma'am ! I left my baby almost dead this morning; he will be quite so to morrow. I know it, 1 have seen it too many times ; and none but a child of nine years to attend to bim. Oh, 1 must go, and quickly !" And, grasping the money she had toiled for, while her baby was dying, she hurried to her dreary home. Shortly after thay followed her; the young wife who bad never known sonow and the aged matron whose hair was white with trouble ; fol lowed her to her home 1 She was not too late. The little dying boy knew his mother. But at midnight ho died, and and then kind hands took from the mother the lifeless form, closed the closed the bright eyes, straightened the tiny limbs, bathed the cold clay, and fold ed about it the pure white shroud; and did more; they gave what tbe poor so sel dom have, time to weep. "Oh, Aunt," said Mrs. M., with tears in her eyes, "if my heart blesses yoa how much more must poor Susan's. Had it not been for you she would have been too late. It has been a sad but a holy lesson. I shall always be kind to the poor washer woman. But, aunt, was the story you told me a true one, all true I mean ?" "The reality of that story whitened this head when it had sean but thirty summers, and the memory of it has been one of my keenest sorrows. It is not strange, there fore that I should*pity the poor, washerwo man ?' era committee of the Illinois Legisla ture visited the Inßane Asylnm at Jackson ville, during the last session of the Legis lature. When the committee was going through the bnilding, an insane man, who had evideutly boon something of a politi cian, approached one of the legislators and said ; "Ah, how do you do, sir ? You got elected at last, didn,t you 1" Tbe honora ble drew himself up with a consequential and patronizing air, and said , "Oh yes, I got elected." The crazy man, with a grave look replied: "Yes, you did, A great many fools get elected now." Fou THE GIRLS-IIOW TO GKT A UUSBAIVD —From an excellent communication pub lished in the Columbus (Miss.) of June 8. we copy the following "expressly for the girls lieing old, and therefore allowed license for teasing the girls on matrimonial sub jects, I consult them about their future prospects often, and find that the opinion obtains with them, that the young men were never so slow in proposing as in these days ; which we must admit, gives them a good, not to say, all-powerful reason for not taking a husband. Now, young ladies, the whole secret with nine-tenths of you, of not being able to get off your parent's hand,is simply this , you don't know how lo work. You cau't keep house. You can't make a pair of breeches.— You can't tell, for tho life of you, the dif ference between bran and shorts, or which cow gives buttermilk. The young men gen erally came out of the war "with the skin of their teeth,' with no fortune, I might say but their wardrobes of gray and their grey canteens, and to marry with them now, rest assured, relates more to making a living with the assistance of a loving industrious helpmate, than indulging in opera music, moonshine and poetry. Do yoa know what they say of one of your butterfly young ladies who has held in the parlor en gaged by the hour listening to "elegant nothings !" Nineteen times out of twenty it is this—"Well, she is all right for an evening's entertainment, hut she will not make a good wife ?" There if no possible objections to the ac complishments of music, painting and the like, as such, but the idea is to set these parlor amusements aside for the period when the stern duties of married life call for your practical knowledge. Show the young men that yon can do your part of double business ; that you can cook a meal's victuals on a pinch, that you can sweep up and dust and darn old stockings, and save a penny toward an accumulated pound that you will not be a dead expense to him through life. Believe me young friends, as many true, heroic, womanly hearts beat over household duties, as flutter beneath the soft light of a parlor chandalier. Your kiss is just as sweet, your smiles just as bright, your heart as happy and tender, after a day's exertion in a sphere worthy Miswf ambition to dt your part in life ; cultivate industrial habits, and let the parlor accom plishments I have roughly enumerated go to thunder. It is astonishing how soon a domestic young lady is found out and ap preciated. It is because she is such a rare exception to the general rule- CHURCH MUSIC. God has established so intimately this law of nature, that "out of the Heart the mouth speaketh." that it is impossible that music and devotion can be divorced. The melody which the heart makes in itself, strives and rushes to the utterance of the lips; and the sweet repose of the soul, in its rapt communion with God, is nursed by the harmonies which are going on, day and night, around the throne of God; where the sea of uplifted countenances reflects the light of His countenance, and ten '.housand times ten thousand tongues utter the vol umed music that bursts from as many adoring hearts. No scene on eaith can as much resemble this, as a whole congre gation, lifted np on their feet, and joining in one chorus of musical worship. This is the only true conception of ecclesiastical music; and when this is realized in prac tice, one most important element is gained of the beauty of holiness. In order to do this, the melodies of the Church should be simple; to bespeak those feelings oi devotion which are among tho simplest of the humau breast. Its harmonies should be broad and grand, to embrace the whole soul, and bear it strong ly up. Its symphonies should be short and easy; its voluntaries fitted to tbe character of the occasion, aud the spirit of the sermon. There is no occasion in which human art should so studiously conceal itself, and become the secret niis trant of heaven, as in the music of religious pathos, penitence and praise. When these requisites are met, the music oftlu Church become what it ought to be—congrega tional—the music of the whole—beautiful to the ear, and to the soul. Hut these requisites are too often scorn ed by the ambition of modern act. Tbe taste that is bred at operas and concerts soon learns to discredit the legitimate char acter of ecclesiastical compositions, and craves the higher excitement of music;— its unusual harmonics, itk minuto beauties, its exquisite detail. It grows to love the art for its own sake ; and to admire the performance, instead of feeling its design. When this occurs, the music becomes a mere exhibition ; it is delegated, as a work to a few ; and tbe congregation are listen ers, instead of worshippers. Here are two essential absurdities—substituting the the means for the end, and making that which is beautiful in itself offensive by be ing out of place. So far as this practice prevails, it perverts this beautiful part of sacred worship, and spoils it of all the beauty of holines. — A. H. Vinton's ser mons. To be a Democrat is to be a lover and supporter of good government, an en emy anarchy, and a foe of despotisms Democrats stand by the rights of all nun and recognize the distinction of races, as made by tbe Creator of all. Before the execution of Maximilian, Me ia and Eirimon, Mejia's wife ran distract edly through the streets, carrying a new" born babe, , CURIOUS ANTICS 07 MRS. SCRUG GINS' COW. "We use to keep a cow when we, lived in Cincinnatter. And, oh massy sich a cow I She nsed to come up as reg lar to ber milk as clock-work. She d knock a the gate with her boms jest as sensible as any other hnman critter. Her name was Rose. I never knowed how she got that name, for the was black as a kittle. Well, one day Rose got sick and wouldn't eat nothin, poor thing 1 and a day or two arter she died; I rally do be believe I cried when that poor critter was gone. Well, we went a little spell with out a cow; but I told Mr. Scriggins it wouldn't do no way nor no how, for have another cow we must: and he gin in.— Whenever I said must, Mr. Scruggins knowed I meant it. Well, a few days ar ter he cum home with the finest eow and young calf you ever seed. He gin thirty dollars for her and the calf, and two levies to a man to help bring her hum. Well, they driv her into the back yard, and Mr. Scruggins told me to cum out and see her, and I did ; and I went up to her jest as I used to did to Rose ; and when I said 'Poor Sukey,' would you believe it, she kicked me right in the fore part of the back. Her foot cotched into my dress, bran new dress tue, cost two levies a yard, and she took a levy's worth right out, jest as clean as the back of my hand, I screach ed right on, and Mr. Scrnggins coched me as I was droppin—l wasn't quite as heavy then as I am now—and he carried me to the door, and 1 went in and sot down. I felt kind o' faintish, I was so 'bominably skeered. Mr. Scruggins said he'd lam her better manners, so he picked up the poker and went out. But I hadn't hardly begun to git a little strengthened up, afore in rushed my dear husband, flour ishing the poker, and that wicious cow ar ter him, with her head down and tail up, like all mad. Mr. Scruggins jumped into the room ; and afore he had time to turn round and shut the door, that desp'rate cow was in tue. Mr. Scruggins got up oq the dining table, I run into tbe parlor. I thought I'd be safe there, but 1 was skeered so bad that I forgot to shet the door, and, after hooking over tho din ing table and rolling Mr. Scruggins off, in she walked into the parlor, shaking her head, jest as mnch as to say. "I'll give you A touch now " T J*mr*c<l on A chftir, but thinking that wanT bigb enough, I got one foot on tbe brass knob of the Franklin stove, and put the other on the mantle piece. You ought to have seen that cow in onr parlor. She looked all round as if she was 'mazed. At last she looked into the looking-glass, and thought she see an other cow exhibiting passion, like herself. She shuck her head and pawed the carpet, and so did her reflection, and, would you believe it; the awful brute went right into ray looking-glass! Well, then I boo-ood right ont. I 'spoße she thought she heard her calf, for she poked her head into Mr. Scruggins' book case—no doubt she smelt the calfskin covers. All this time I was gitting agonized. The brass knob on tbe stove got so hot that I had to sit on the narrow mantle-piece and hold on to noth in'. I dassint move, for fear I'd slip off. Mr. Scruggins come round to the front door, but it was locked, and then be cam to the window and opened iL I jumped down and run for tbe window, and hadn't more than got my head out afore I beanl that critter comin' arter me, Gracious, but I was in a hurry. More haste less speed, always; for the more I tried to climb quick, the longer it took me ; and, would you believe it? just as I got ready to jump down, that brute of a cow cotch ed me behind, and turned me clean over and over and over clean out of the win dow. Well, when I got right side, (as they put looking glass boxes,) I looked up to the window, and there stood that cow, with her head between the red and white curtains, and with another piece of my dress dangling on her horns. Well, hus band and ine was jest starting for the little alley that run alongside of the Loose, when that cow gin a bcwl, and out of tbe window she come, whiski.V her tail about. It cotched on fire in the Franklin stove, and it served her right. Mr. Scruggins and me run into the aily in such haste we got wedged fast. Husband tried to get B head, but I'd been in tbe rear long enough and I wouldn't let him. And, would you believe it ] that dreadful cow no sooner seen us in the alley, when she made a dash. But, thank goodness, she stuck fast tue. Husband tried the gate, but that was fast, and there was nobody inside the houso to opeD iL Mr. Scruggins wanted to climb over and unbolt it, but I wouldn't let him. I wasn't going to be left alone agin with that desp'rate cow. if she was fast; and I made him help mo over the gate. Ah, dear! climbing a high gate, when you are skeered by a cow, is a dread ful thing, and I know it! Well, I got over, let husband in, and tben it took him and me, and four other neighbors, to git that dreadful critter out of the alley.— She bellowed and kicked, and her calf bel lowed to her, and she bawled back again ; but we got her out at last, and sich a time, ah deat 1 "I bad enough of her. Husband sold her tor S2O the next day. It cost him sev enty cents to git her to market; and when he tried to pass one of the $5 bills be got, would yon believe it ? the nasty rag was a counterfeit. Mr. Scruggins said to his dy ing day that he believed the brother of the man that sold him that cow bought it baek again, I believe it helped to worry my poor husband to death. Ah, child, yon better believe I know what cows is." The old lady's agitation was so great at this point of tbe story, she dropped a stitch | in her knitting, TERMS, fa.oo Per. AVITtM, in Ad-raaoo. fJijjf auto ftjier&ijse. OWED TO PBIKTEBB. When inkless printers stoop to credit. And find too Iste that men wont pay What ehsrm etn soothe the Scribes wbo edi 17 Whet art can wash the debt my 7 The only art their case to better, To briog the money when 'tis due, To gl>e repentance to the debtor, And wring the pocket— is to sue. - '•I'LL MENTION rr TO HIM."—TWO young lawyers, Archy Brown and Thoe. Jones, were fond of dropping into Mr. Smith's parlor and spending an hour or two with his Mary. One erening, when Brown thrfMaty had discussed almost every topic, Brown sud denly and in his sweetest tones strode oot as follows : "Do yon think, Mary, yon oonld leave fk ther and mother, this pleasant home, ail its ease and comforts, emigrant to the far Weak with a young lawyer, who baa little besides his profession to depend upon, and with him find a new home, which it abonld be yonr joint dutv to beautify and make beaaliful and happy like this 7" Dropping her head softly on his shoulder, she whispered: "I think I coold, Archie." " "Well," said he, "there is Tom Jones who is going to emigrate, and wanU to get a wife j I'll mention it to htm." Indignantly aba re plied, "you need not trouble yourself." A FEW HARD THINGS Experience and observation have taoght men that it is: Hard to quit chewing tobacco. Hard to keep from eating to mad*. Hard to drink liquor and not be intemper ate. Hard to pay our debts. Hard to resist temptation. Hard to believe a man yon know to bt n liar. Hard to turn the other cheek when yon are struck. , Hard to borrow money from friends whey Hard to love our enemies. WELL Put IN. —At Adams' Eaprets Office in Philadelphia, Tuesday, directed to the Uni ted States Hotel, Atlantic City, was a box made cf latch wood, light almost as pasteboard tbns tenderly inscribed : " TO THE EXPRESS AGENT. "This package contains a dock of a bonnet: Expressman, I pray you, place nothing upoa it. 'Tisjinade of a ribbOD, a straw and a feather, The whole with a postage stamp fastened to gether. Its owner, a damsel, is youthful and fair, But, like Flora MTlimsy, has nothing to wear' Beware, then, expressman! I warn yon take beed, And forward this bonnel with ears and with speed." 1 • An unmitigated wretch complies tiro fob lowing memoranda for young ladies : "Hart a good piano or none, Be sure to bam * 'dreadful cold' when asked to 'favor the com paqy.' -Cry at a wedding, but don't faint. Always scream at a spider. Never leave your curl papers in the drawing room. Drop your handkerchief when yon am going to faint. Mind yon are 'engaged' if yon danfk like your partner. Abjure ringlets on a wet day. Never faint unleea it ia convenient 4a fall into the arms of the young gentleman yon love. Remembcc, it ia vulgar in the extreme to know what your mother ia going to have for dinner. When you go aboppjng be runs to take your ma along to carry the handles M " SAM," said a terrible infant at breakfast table, a few mornings since, to a lovelorn swain, "can fishes run ; they twim by using their fins end tails." "Well, then, what did Cousin Sophie mean when she said you look ed in the morning like the last run of shad ?" ll is believed that when Cousin Sophia caught that "terrible infant" alone, her con. dtict toward him was not caressing. A young gentleman named Torn, recently married hia cousin of the same name. When intetrogated as to why he did so, be replied that it had always been a maxim of his that one "one good turn deserved another," and he had acted accordingly. A pert yonng lady was walking one morn ing on the Steyne, at Brighton, when encoun tered the celebrated Wilkes. 'You see,' ob served the lady, 'I am come oat for a tittle suit aod air.' 'Yau had better madam, get a little husband first.' lied noses are light-houses to warn ftps gers%t tho sea of lije off the coast of Malaga, Jamaica, Santa Crux and Holland. Hood's famous poem, the " Song of the Shirt," origioelly bed the title "Tele of the Shirt." Before the poem wee published, its author aaw something ludicrous in his title end so changed it to its prases* *■. The road ambition travels is too narrow for friendship, too crooked for too fogged for honeaty, aod too dark for science. NO. 1, .