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t ya» ./£ <$> fcsfflljy •■-.4 ÊÆ'P* i ' 'A A AWA '4 VOL. I. MIDDLETOWN, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 25, 1868. NO. 30. Select floririr. From the Christian Wreath. THIS DREAM. nw returned with the downing of And the voice in hit dreaming car melted away." CAMPBELL. "J5«e Methoußht it wns «printr-timo, tho sunshine fell mildly, Tho churohynnl lay bullied in its beautiful light ; O'er its pathway, well worn, my foutstcps'flvw wildly, And uiy boyhood's idad shout rang out in its might. Methought the old steeple and vino-covered tower Were there, jui.t as plainly a.-« thirty years gone; The young mou lay softly with many a flo< Around each quaint sculptured memorial !e, the old bull was ringing, s they flouted along ; : choir were singing, tes of the beautiful song. I stood In the church-aij And silvo And voices I loved in th And, sweet were the m it! •Twas the hymn I had learned from the lips of my mother, 'Twas tho strain J had lisped when n curl y -haired boy, it night with iny sisters The bright moon laughed down on When seuted r d brother •-lit Joy. AgainEthose old wulls I saw the old Dish And his pleasant face till wore the smile of an angel, ious blood. •ed buck the Evangel, gentle good I »! As ainnors jre pointed s pr At that ent an 'Twns my mother Thntroscon my vision,and tl My head •ye gas'.'d upon 's! I shriek'd. ï in Midnc.; adness, [shade ing with 'Two» a dream t a sweet dream, that too The lifts departed; l' 3 of my boyhood have wunde? in their young pride have died Some, paled away early, like iroken'hearted, And »o twilight 'Twas a dream—for that tow Tho Church In a ruin—auil The Bishop nud Choir aro now hymning in H 1 the vialoi • to the owlet is given, thcr—is dead! — 'Twas a dream of the night tied! flophr <3Mcs. . Bacholor Brown's Courtship. Bacholor Brown had lived a bachelor for forty years, and had declared his in tentions of continuing in tho state of singlo blessedness for the remainder of his life— greatly to the satisfaction of his relatives, the Hinkles, with whom he resided, for ho it known Uncle Richard was worth a cool half million, and tho Hinkles were his on ly living relations, and unless, as Mrs. Hinkle said, some "nasty charity" came in for bis property, who should he leave it to but to his own cousins or their chil dren. Hopeful as poor human nature is of longevity, Mr. and Mrs. Ilinklo scarcely expected to survive their cousin, who was their junior by ten years, hut Adelaide, mid Rose, and Charles, and William, might in all probability he his In to.this end the parents labored. Ut.cln Richard had tho best room in tho house, tho bout ohair, and the most particular con sideration. His wishes were deferred to and his advice taken on every occasion, and ho actually camo to he loved, for, with all his quaint, old fashioned ways, and his habit of sitting as utterly silent though ho had been deaf and dumb, ho was a loveable man. Matters progressed smoothly enough until it was habit and pot hypocrisy which made Uncle Richard actually master of the house. He was very obliging—wonderfully so in most respects. He would attend to any thing for anybody—match ribbons when nobody elso could—escort tho girls to pla ces of amusement—go dutifully to church with their mamma—attend to marketing und tho posting of lotters, and the gas me ter, and the turning oil of the water in frosty weather, lie was always ready to search the house with a poker at the dead $>f night, when any one "heard a noise." He went to tho dentist with people who wanted their teeth drawn, and always seemed to have sugar plums in his pocket. But ono thing Cousin Richard would not do, and that was to exhibit the least sign of politeness to lady visitors. * He never saw any home. Ho never even spent tho evening in thoir company. He invariably shut himself up in his own room and had his tea there when one of these individuals was roported to'ho in tho house, and, when traveling, hail boon known in a train to shut his eyes tight when a young lady entered, and remained with them closed until she loft tho carriage. As a general thing, indeed, ho always chose a carriago where ho need not bo in truded upon. "It was just as well after all," said Mrs. Ilinklo, but it was a peculiarity not quite agreeable to Mr. H. when he found tho S leasant task of "seeing Miss Smith or liss Jones homo," imposed upon himself. He argued that such duties were cousin Dick's, though he never told him would not havo boon pleasant to provoke him, and if anything could have offended Bachelor Brown mortally, it. would havo boon to insist upon his offering any gallant attentions to the softer sox. However, a day came at last which sot tho houso in Commotion. Miss Amanda Dove had been invited to spend a week with tho Hinkles, and Miss Dove being a stranger, was to wait at tho station until some ono camo for her in a carriage. The Hinkles resided some miles out of .town, and had not occupied tho residence for many months, so that people wero not always properly directed by tho neighbors. It was decided that Mr. Hinkle should escort Miss Dove, hut before tho day of her arrival dawned business had called that gentleman to Sheffield. Moreover Mrs. Hinkle had the influenza, and the two boys were at a boarding school. No ii a a and M is a is ono was to he found to drive, and neither Roso nor Adelaide could linndlo tho reins. Miss Dove was to come at nine, aud what would 1 she think of them if no one <Samo for her. "Indeed, said Mrs. Hinkle, "it would be shocking treatment for the dear girl. I I must ask your cousin Richard." never dare, ma,' said Rose a so. It gh«i. "In such a caso you know— Mrs. Ilinklo. "He'll not do it," "Of course not, ninltlc shook her head. "I fear he will not," sho said, and, Burning an expression that would have done credit to Joan ot Aro, mounted the stairs to cousin lliehard's study. • "Aro you busy, Richard ?" she asked as sho entered. "Not at all—sit down," said llacholor Brown, "You see how ill lam," said Mrs. Ilin "I can hardly hold up my head, much less drive, and Mr. Hinkle is away, and tho hoys too, and no one can handle the reins, and— "Well, said said Adelaide, said Rose. Mrs. as kle. said Bachelor Brown. ''And there is poor Miss Dovo at tho station with her trunk by this time," said Mrs. Hinkle, with a gasp. "Ah!" said bachelor Brown, " what a pity ! Mrs. Hinkle felt ehe had not heg; yet—Bachelor Bruwu could not under stand what eho wanted. " It's a favor—a great favor to ask, I know," sho said, "but couldu't you just for once do it ?" "Do what, Maria?' Brown. " Go for her," snid Mrs. Hinkle. 4 ' For Miss Dove ?" "Yes." "Oh, dear n< m said Bachelor B.viil cousin Richard, n Mrs. Hinlclo. ' said the old bachelor, "young ics, my little cousins 'initiation. hi " Maria h xcepted, are my An affected, conceited, ah I never had auy 'etu, and I never will. surd set of creatures, thing to do with No doubt sho is capable of finding her way here. They all appear to bo. 1 for her." Sirs. Hinkle retreated. . . " What will sho think of ns?" sho said sobbing. "Don't cry, "I'll see if any of tho hands over at Oats' place can drive over for her." And out he went ; hut all the hands Outs' jdacc wore busy with the hay, which ' in danger from a coming shower, ard returned without the least success. A shower, too," said Rose. said Bachelor Browu. on ' ii ' * Poor dear Amanda, I'll try what I can do with my cousin. And in the study she ppent an hour teasing ami-worrying without effect. "Let her get lost," said Bachelor "No doubt she'd like it. And 1 er trunk, why can't girls travel with a portmanteau as we do?" And Rose departed pouting. She found Adelaide in an extremely merry mood. "Don't laugh," she said, "think of poor Amanda." "I am thinking of her," said Adelaide, and cousin Dick shall go. I'll'tell a fib." " For shame," said Rose. " Une might to make sOnro sacrifice for a friend," said Adelaide. "I'll tell him she's a child. He is always good to chil dren." Br< for :i. " It will never do," said Mrs. Hinkle, "ho will never forgive you." But Adelaide ran up to cousin's and bnrst in with an exceedingly theatrical laugh. " What a mistako !" she said, "and so stupid of them all. You think Amanda is a grown up young lady, do you -not ?" " Isn't she ?" asked the bachelor. " As if a child of nine years could be ?" said sho. " Door little thing !" " Door little thing, indeed," said the bachelor, hurrying oil his coat and hat. " Bless mo, why didn't you mention it? Door little girl." And in a few minutes the light, wngon otto was driving down the road, and the Hinkles stood looking after it. half frightenod," said Rose. " So am I," said Adelaid. " But it's done, and cannot be helped now. I'll manage to coax him to forgive me, and it won't do to leave "a friend in such tion, a child. Meanwhile Bachelor Brown drove to tho stution. It was a long drivo over had road, hut ho kept on his way very cheerfully. Ho was extremely fond of children. When on reaching''the station, lie no signs of hor presence, ho grew alarm ed. If sho had been lost through his neglect, ho could never forgive himself. He ran his fingers through his curly hair, and pooped into tho ladies' waiting room. Only a vory fine, full-grown young woman sat there, and he retreated. The Woman who awaited in tins apartment came out of hor nook with a courtesy as she saw him, and he addressed hor : " Have you seen a little girl waiting for some ono ?" "No, sir," said the woman. "There were two coino down, hut thoy are gone." "Oh,, dear 1 oh, dear !" said Bachelor Brown, " 1 hope there is no mistako. It is a little Miss Dove, and if the dear little soul has gone astray I'm entirely to blame. Dleaso mako inquiries—there's a good wo man !" As ho uttered these words, tho full grown young lady in tho waiting-room was soon to blush violently. "I'm Amanda Dove," she said, "and I expected soine one from Mr. Hinkles." Bachelor Browu stood aghast. He had spoken of this lady as a "dear little thing." His face turned soarlet. "I—I beg your pardou, ma'am," ho began, "1 expeoted to find a little girl— I wouldn't have used such expressions for the world—I—" "I comprehend," said the young lady j "don't mind in the least. I—" I I bo "I a posi you know ; and I didn't say sho was 'in * a a is "Is this your trunk, ma'am?" asked Bachelor Brown, in a hurry. " Yes, sir," said the lady looking down. ' And in a few moments the two were driving towards the Hinklea* country seat. Never had' Bachelor Brown found himself so close to any young lady, save his cou sins, before. IIow pretty she was, he thought. How pink and white—how golden hor hair was ! IIow tho blue rib bons set it off! Then he began to won der what she thought of him. Wonder ing thus lie forgot tho road aud suddenly found that he had lost himself. To add to the dilemma the storm, which had been threatening for hours, burst at the very moment when Bachelor Brown found it impossible to tell whether the left road or the right led homeward ; and the horse was afraid of lightning, and grew restive. Mias Amanda Dove was afraid of lightning also. She gave a little scream, and clung to Bachelor Brown's coat sleeve. Bachelor Bfown looked down at her.— It was such a soft, plump hand. Her eyes wero so round aud so blue in lier terror that lie forgot she was a young lady. " I'll take care of you," ho said.: a dash of lightning, a roar of thunder, an attempt on the part of the horse to run away, in terrupted him. Miss Dovo turned pale. Bachelor Brown looked terrified. Ho cast a glance about him. Near the road was a parson nge, connected with its church by a gar ^ CIi * said " I'l toll you what we'll do, he said. "Wo'll ask for shelter until tho storm is over. A clergyman ought to be Christian enough to take us in." And driving to tho gale, he assisted Miss Dovo to alight. As ho did so, two hired men rushed out and began to attend to tho horso and carriage,'and an old lady anJ gentleman appeared on the step. " So glad you're early enough to escape the worst of the storm," Said the gentle man. "Do come in," said the old lady. "We were expecting you—for on such occasions people always keep their appointments, rain or sunshine, I believe." " What on earth does she mean, Bachelor Brown. " But it's very kind of them." Aud so while the old lady hur ried Miss Dovo away to dry her things, ho sat with tho old gentleman in tho par lor. "Do you feel at all nervous, sir?"■ said tho old gentleman, after a pause. " You expected a—young couple?" he said. " Oh, you are quite young enough, sir," said the innocent clergyman. " And I must say tho young ledy appears a very charming person." Bachelor Brown felt, himself blush. " Should you think she'd make a good wife ?" lie asked. " Undoubtedly'," said tho clergyman. "And you think c man is—happier— for—for—entering th" nuptial state?" lie inquired. " No man can he happy without so do and it is every in; o s duty," said the old gentleman believing every word ho said. " Sho is a dear lit tin thing," said Mr. Brown to himself. ' 1 I never liked a girl ho much. Its very awkward to explain. I wonder whether—" But just then Mies Dove entered the room, looking angelic, without her bon net, to Mr. Brown. Bachelor Brown drew hor aside. "I have something to say to you, Miss Dovo," ho said. " Dear mo," said Miss Dovo. "They havo made a mistake," said Bachelor Brown. "Thoy think wc—wo— wo—we are the people they expect—a—a young couple, you know, about to—" "Oh, dear, do they?" whispered Miss Dovo. " Ye»i" said Bachelor Brown. Nowit would ho very awkward to explain. And I like you so much. Couldn't you like me, too, and let him do itri—eh ?" " Do what, Mr. Brown?" said Amanda. " Marry us," said Bachelor B. " Of course not," said Amanda. "What would the Hinkles say ?" " They would do delighted," said Rich ard, growing holder. Then he put his arm arouud her warnt. "I don't know much about this sort of thing, hut you nre the only nice girl I ever suw. Dloase do. I'll bo good to you. " I know you aro good," said Amanda, "hut" * "But thon -I am ugly ?"- said Richard. " Oh no, not at all." "Well?" .. . "It would be so odd." " Well," said Bachelor Brown, "that is my fault, and they know I am odd, my dear." Four hours after tho ninkles heard tho light wagonette drive to tho door, and rushed out to greet Aiuftnda. "We have been so alarmed?" said Mrs. Hinkle. " Such a storm," said Rose. " Were you frightened ?" asked Ade laide. But Amanda said nothing. Uuclo Richard, too, shrank back, though ho was afraid of something. " Toll them, Amanda," he said. "No, you tell them, Richard," said Amanda. The Hinkles listoned in amazement. "What is there to tell?" askod Mrs. Hinkle. " What is all this mystery about. And cousin Richard answered, sheep ishly, "Nothing, only we havo been get ting jnarried. This is only my wife, Mrs. Brown. It was tho Only explanation ever offered. The Hinkles never comprehended it. It was a mystery to them ; and though they as were profuse in their congratulations, and always continued tho best of friends, tho fortune which might have been Rose's or Adelaide's, rather troubled Mrs. Hinkle ; and sho always declared, in secret family councils, that sho was perfectly suro Uncle Richard married out of spito to puuish Adelaide for the trick sho played upon liipi. It is quite refreshing, with the tlicrmom cter at 98° in the shade, to take up a neat, clean, well printed sheet, abounding with choice articles, both original and selected ; and to read in clear type, tho ourrem news, and local incidents of the day, and the surroundings. Such a sheet, Mr. Editor, (and Ï assure you I mean no flattery* for I am incapable, I believe, of offering such despicable food,) is tho " Middletown Transcript," and I need not say that, our community may, with holiest pride, rejoice 'hat such is the patent fact. Such a pub lication in a growing aud thriving town, must, or should, exercise a wonderful in fluence in our midst, and neighborhood, both refining and instructive, With such views, may tho writer be pardoned for a lew suggestive remarks to our community : We havo .no public library, as yet. Without mental food, various and health ful, no matter how prosperous in trade, and however rich in agricultural resources, there must grow up a selfish spirit, concen trating itself tft.tliu mere increase of dol lars and cents, ami tending to tho dwarf ing, and stultifying of the moral powers and faculties. To refine and educate a community, there must ho mental resour ces, and we must cultivate books, as well as soil. We must improve the mind with polite and useful literature, as well as keep up a current supply of merchandise ; wc must keep a balance on hand in useful information, as well as that to our credit in the Bank. Wo must see to it, that there is an accumulation in the knowledge derived from judicious reading, as in in vestments in 5 or 7 twenties. We must rea P in the field of thought and of mind, of well as gather in the golden cereals that adorn and beautify our fields. I have said we have no public library. This we ought to havo as an initial in the reform we propose. When the new Hall is completed the library should have its proper place within its walls. Money should (and cannot it bo ?) raised to fur nish it with standard books. Donations of volumes would doubtless be made part ly at home, and partly from other quar ters. During the fall and winter, popular lectures on seieuco, history and litoraturo, should be obtained. Young gentlemen and ladies should be urged, (and older ones, too) to patronize the library and the lectures. A reading room should be estab lished in tho Hall, in which the best maga zines, qua r tori ion, end newspapers rhould be placed for the benefit of tho subscribers, and strangers temporarily sojourning in Middletown, nud its vicinity; and the Ed itor of the Transcript should popularize the undertaking, by frequent words of en couragement, and by occasional notice of its progress. Other advantages would grow out of this initial. Our young peo ple would have opportunity, almost im perceptibly to increase their stores of in formation; ono would quicken anoth er ; there would bo a beautiful rivalry in storing the mind with topics of conversa tion and discussion ; less frequenting of bar-rooms, and loss inane chit that, amounting to the shadow of nothing whioh so often pains ears polite in those commu nities where books are ignored, and fool ish, and sometimes hurtful amusements, indulged in, for want of healthful mental recreation. I might add more, hut this will suffice for the nonco. Tlieso are mere sugges tions, and they may bo taken for what they arc worth. The writer lias had some experience in journalism, ond contact with those who havo given thought and expe rience to tho subject. The project has worked well everywhere, where it has been faithfully'tiled, and patiently worked out. I believo wc can make it a success if some of our influential citizens in tho sur rounding country and in the town will give it countenance and aid. It will pay in tho moral benefit that will be con furred on the present and rising generation among* us. Fur the Middletown Transcript . a is a in ed in : I OATS. For the Middletown Transcript. Mb. Editor.— Will you obligo tho un dersigned aud those of tho many readers of your valuable paper, who delight in "solving problems," by giving the fol lowing " Dromisouous Enigma," a place in yonr next issuo ? Yours, Ac. Souool Bov. I am composed of 27 lotters. My 8, 3, 19, 23 is an animal nqted for determination. My 20, 26, 23 is tho opposite of the subject of this saying. My 11, 18, 7 is a personal pronoun. My 21, 14, 4, 12, 9," 23 is a nickname for a female. My 24, 1 is the abbreviation for ono of tho N. E. States. My 10, 22, 55, 21, 23 is a delicious fruit. My 5, 14, 6, 2 is an ornament to the person, without which tho appearanoe is most ludicrous. My }3, 25, 17, 27 is a kind of wiljng craft, My 16, 3, 15 is a color. My whole is a proverbial expression, as truthful as it is trito. Answer next week. detect jjorirg. liADIES' NAMES. There Is a strungo deformity, Combined with countless* graces, As often in the ladies 7 names As i Some names arc fit for every ago, Some only fit for youth ; Some passing sweet and musical, Some horribly uucouth; Some lit for d; Some only fit lbr scullery maids. Ann is too plain and common, And Nancy sounds but ill ; Yet Anna is endurable, ie better still ; There is a grace in Charlotte, In Eleanor a state, An elegance in Isabelle, A haughtiness in Kate; all is sedate and neat, .'u innocent and sweet. the ladies' faces. of loftiest grades, And A And S And E Matilda lias a sickly sound, Fit for rse b trade; Sophia is effeminate, And Esther sage and staid ; Elizabeth's Fit for a Queen to wear— In castle, cottage, hut or hall, A name beyond compare: And Bess and Bessie follow well, But Betsy is detestable. atchless n; Maria is too forward, ^ And Gertrude is too gruff, Yet coupled with a pretty face. Is pr> tty name enough; And Adelaide is fanciful, And Laura is too fine, And Emily is beautiful, And Mary is divine : Maud only suits a high-born dame. And Fanny is a baby-name. Eliza is not very choice, Jane is too blunt and bold. And Martha somewhat sorrowful, And Lucy proud and cold ; Amelia is too light and gay, Fit only for a flirt. And Caroline is vain and shy, And Flora smart and pert; Louisa is to soft and sleek, But Alice gentle, cliustc, and meek. And Harriet is confiding, And Clara grave and mild, And Emma is affectionate, And Jcnct arch and wild, And Fationce is expressive, And Grace is old and rnre, And ilanimh •m and dutiful, And Margaret frank and fair : And Failli and Hope und Charity, Are Heavenly names fur sisters three. Rebecca for a Jewess. Ruse for a country belle, And Agnes for a Mushing bride, Will suit exceeding well ; And Phcobe for a midwife, Joanna for a prude, And Rachel for a gipsey WMCto, Are all extremely good And Judith fora scold and churl. And Susan fgr a Bailor's girl. (Dur ®îio. The Voice a Charm in Society. Cultivate a pleasant voice, Regular features cannot be cultivated. A kindly expression can be cultivated. So, too, can a pleasant voice. We mean a smooth voice—ono that is agrobahlo to tho listener —tender in its quality, though strong, clear and musical. Tho voices of our really consummate orators are tho result, in a vory great mea sure, of cultivation. Wo do not mean that they would have been dumb without cultivation, nor that they would have set the teeth of their friends upon edgo. Tho voices of many'of them, however, would have been weak, many others far from agreeable, some of them absolutely pain ful ; others, still, which wero naturally strong and smooth aud musical, would have bocomo thin and harsh, through care lessness and neglect. One charm only, of all whioh a woman can possess, is equal to that of fl musical voice in conversation. That ouo charm is a cultivated intellect to use the musical voice. With wit enough to use them'veil, dy accents are more attractive than a beautiful pair of eyes, or a fair complexion, regular-features, full lips, a dimpled chin, plump shoulders, a luxuri ant head of hair, or a pretty hand. Even the presence of wit, indeed, is but au ag gravation, when it finds expression in tones which aro harsh, or shrill, or thin. Every gentleman remembers tho disap pointment which he has felt, on approach ing a handsome woman in a drawing-room, to hear an unpleasant voice issue from a beautiful pair of lips. Every other eliarm is forgotten ; one hardly realizes that the woman is intelligent aud witty, as well as beautiful, if her voice is not agreeable. It behooves the ladies, then, to care for their voices, if not to "cultivate" them. The English tell us that tho voices of our ladies arc, as a rule, too shrill—too much, they say, of the American eagle scream. Strangers aro bettor critics of oursolvos than wo aro. This may bo true. We slackened our pace upon tho street, yester day, to hear the voice"of a French woman, a note or two of which wo caught as we were passing. It was, without any ex ception, the most deliciously musical voice in conversation we ever beard. It linger ed in our ear all day, and wo shall hear it there for many a week. Was it the con trast with the average American female voice which delighted us ? Mothers should bo as careful in tho train ing of their daughter's voices as they are in giving them other accomplishments and graces which make them delightful ip so ciety.—W. Y. Evening Mail. Some person asked Charles janes Fox what was the meaning of that passage in the Realms : He clothed hiipself with cursing as with a garment. - The mean ing, said he, I think is clear enough ; the niau had a habit of swearing. sweot won For the Middletown Transcript t Middletown and Vicinity. Wore the entombed of the past fifteen years to arouse from his sepulchred couch and stand in.our midst, affirmations would bo requisite to convince him of tho trans ition siuco his departure. Ten years ago not a single edifice loomed its proportions above Davis's Hotel, on the southern side of the main avenue bearing towards the depot, nud two solitary dilapidated struc tures alone, intercepted tho view looking from the central portion of tho town, on the northern aide of the way in tho same direction, which presents now tho most important and ornate portion of the place. The brown shad-bellied coat, of the old impartial justice, and jolly face of the portly postmaster, were as familiar to the citizens us the mulberry trees of tho side walks, or tho bob-tailed terrier of the cor ner merchant. Every man and woman knew the name and position of each other, and could tell when tho young man who oiled his locks with macassar looked sweet at their neighbors daughter, what was the name of Sal's baby, and how to concoct catnip tea. There were gills and " wim men" then, (no ladies,) and the farmers about the place planted potatoes and killed hogs in the' irfoon, believed that the howl of dogs fore-tokened death, and measured you readily fora coffin, if you skipped a laud when seed.ing. Tho r-ame old faces were weekly seen in the " Methodist Meeting House," whose members would have stood aghast at the nariie of Church, and tho minister, (preacher) would have done penance for a fortnight had his foot touched painted altar or carpeted pews. Plain in dress, abstemious in diet, with commendable pride, evidenced only in well blacked boots, and clean shaven faces, the distinc tive mark of pharisaieal piety shone by lengthened countenance, aud cadaverous cheeks. Thoy seduced preachers by fat pot-pies and spring chickens, fitted split goose-quills between shoe soles to hearald their approach, and proud iudeed was the lad who woro a swallow-tailed coat, or the lass who sported a long dress. Through tho dim lapse of time, these good old days gleam as a pageaut on the stage of mem ory, aud viewing tho innovations of science and mechanism, we stand wrapt in won der at the painted visible structures move ing onward across the stage of life. The old folles when tired of the monotonous life they led, slipped down to *' Cantwell's Bridge," to look at the Appoquimmiuk, that bore the oommerce of the country for miles around, and was then the only out let to city marts. " Odessa" stands in lieu thereof, now, aud the stream boils in glee o'er a long holiday. " Cantwell's Bridge" was truly a commercial village of great note at that tiuio, but " Odessa" now usurps her place, and has waxed fat, through weight of honors aud years. The lion aud lamb slept together, and wc well remember how our old darkey class-loader-was exercised after his morn ing task was finished, really imagining that the thews of In's arms were the spokes of his neighbor's Timber Wheels. Had lie have been an ambitious man a mitre would doubtless have adorned bis crown, and a crook rested within his palm. Those were tho days of shouts and innocence, of apple dumplings and pumpkin tarts. The hiss and groaning snort of the steam horse was only read of, and his trumpet neigh had' not awoke the dormanrtnergies of the people, nor tho thundering din of his circular hoofs diffused the news of his twin brother, the Dross, who unravelled the intricacies of intelligence for the os. News was gleaned meagerly from occasional visitors ; and consumption, with dainty feet and seductive smile, trod daily the muddy streets beside tue young and blooming, annually stealing two from our midst, and painting with her hectic glow others for the banquet of t Citizens assumed the facts cf trad and- complacently folding their fancied superiority, compassionated the originators of new ideas and schemes. The abhorrence of new things existed then, to a greater extent, which now meanders slightly through tho veins of society, and the "fogies" of those days knew it was not indicative of a superior mind or .mark of a generous spirit, to expose the vaga ries of their sires. One can scarcely credit the change,— tho main avenues echo the tread of the same footsteps in the ovening, that press tho city paves of the morning. Tho Frenchman, Spaniard, Moor and Italian, jostle each other in tho crowd, and the markets of the town anticipate those of the city. The ring of tho anvil, the "pchew" of the plane, and grating bite of the saw are continuous, and the streets cumbered with building materials, so rupid is the work of construction. Who 86 ftre the gilded tents that crowd the wav, Where all was waste and Bileut yesterday ? This city-which in a few short hours Hath sprung up here as if the magic powers Of Him, who in the twinkling of a star Built the high pillared halls of Chllminar."— The commendable talent and intelli enee of larger towns jealous of good iu ueuceB, and proud of their attainments, here can find rivals in iudomitable will and persistent energy. Tho caterer to publie taste, emulation and vim ot pro gression is manifest, and the word ' ' on ward," is graven on their csoutcheou. Tho tone of moral feeling and sentiment is high, public spirit moro fully devèlo'ped than in other places of like pretensions, * ession so marked, that men won der, with shoulder at the wheel, at tho rapid advance of the car of progress. These things arc- not duo to imported ideas or people, the snort of the engine liuiss or more ath. ion, arms in aroused the apathetic, and awakening from their slumber the hoarded wealth of former generations found an outlet through the palms of children, who evinced their blood, by the impetus given to good Works and actions. One glancing at the letters of content, poraries, would imagine that with north ern ideas and northern capital, dawned tho era cf a new birth. Ridiculously pre posterous ! From careful inquiries insti tuted convincing proof can be deducod, that men of li'ieral minds and means, grow and flourish here ! l'he sterile soi) that hoars no weeds and feeds truck with out culture in colder latitudes, exist re mote from here, and the pernicious! hithit viewed as thrift that accumulates by time and- niggardly hoarding, is pot indige nous to our soil. " Excelsior 1". is writ, tun on tho banner-folds and the rocky steepos are tracked by tho footsteps of enlarged affluence, and laudable ambition. Beguiled by tho productiveness of Del. aware soils, and false representations of the inertness of her inhabitants, by thosp who bowl along her iron roads in cursory glance, the broad-brimmed bargain-bun ter drops from bin free home, thinking to be hold the manacles of the slave and with wondrous mouth queries bow her farmers have accomplished so much, while ha Gnds tho attempt abortive, to purchase land at less rates than be values his oyrn. Middle-town needs but one incentive to attaiu classical grandeur and importunée. The gloom which has settled over tho con. tinent rests here, hut the dawn of a brighter era is about to lift the veil, and the election of Seymour and Blair, will brush away the fog of bickering ami strife, and forever opeq a field of expan sion and freedom, while it strengthens once more the pinions of our old bird of Liberty. Random. Tile Sniiltary Influence otLeughteb . "Laugh and grow fat" is an aphorism which needs littjo argumentation to sus tain it. To be happy we must he cheep ful ; and to render that cheerfulness truly enjoyable, one must now and then yield to mirthful impulses. As a healthful agent, a full-ehcsted, "hearty" laugh is unrival ed. When his patient smiles, tho doctor takes hope. A clerical friend, at a celebrated water ing-place, met a lady who seemed hovering on the brink of the grave. Her cheeks were hollow and wan, her manner listless, her steps languid, and her brow wore the contraction so indicative both of mental and physical suffering, so that she was to all observers an object of sincere pity. Some years afterward he encourt toretl this same lady, hut as bright, and fresh, aud youthful—so full of healthful buoyan cy and so joyous in expression—that lie began to question if ho had not deceived himself with regard to hor identity. "Is it possible," said he, "that I seo, before me Mrs. B. who presented such a doleful appearance at tho springs a few years ago?" "The very same." "And pray tell me, madam, tho secret of your euro ? What means did yog usa to attain to such vigor of mind and body —to such cheerfulness aud rejuvenation?" "A very simple remedy," said sho, with a beaming face. "I stopped worry ing and began to laugh—that was all." A touching story of connubial affection comes from New Hampshire. An aged couple, who during half a century cf mar ried life had wrangled and quarreled with each other, worn in all probability soon tii a ojd husband was ta be separated ken sick, and was believed to ho near his end. The old spouse, thinking that her old man required her pious offices, came to his bedside, and after carefully examin ing and taking stock of his condition, ex- , claimed : * "Wy, daddy, your feet are cold, and your hands are cold, and your nose is cold !" ' "Wa'al, let uni he cold!" "Wy, daddy, you're goin' to dio !'t Wa'al, 1 guess I know tvot I'm 'bout!" "Wy, daddy, wat's to Locum of mo if you -die ?" "I dmino, and don't cave. Wat l w ant to know is, wal's to becuiu of «in f" One clay at flic tablo of tho late Mr. Dease (Doan ofTOIy,)just as the cloth watj being removed-tho subject of discourse happened to bo that of an extraordinary mortality syuong the luwyers. We have lost, said a gentleman, not less than six eminent barristers in as many me The Heap, who was quite deaf.yf^ his friend finished his remarks, nud tho company grace : mercy, the Lord's holy name bo praiseef. ose 1)3 " gave For this aud every A grim old Judge, after hearing a flow ery dieourso from a pretentious young bar rister, advised him to pluck out the fea thers from the wings of his iiunginatioi) and stick them in the tail of Lin judgment. Do you chew tobacco? asked a lady of a young man in a street ear by whose sida she displayed her immaculate skirts. No ma'am, was the reply; but I oan get you a chew if you like. If you are a lover, don't love two girls at once. Love is a good thing, but it id like butter in warm weather—it won't dö to have too much on band at ono time. A wealthy widow advertising for an agent, was overwhelmed with applications,' as (he types, by mistake, made it "a gent."