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♦ É 0 P» ♦ I A A ■W MIDDLETOWN, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 27, 1869, VOL. 2. NO. 48. Great Things in the Clothes Line. REAT il the itock at the Great Brown Hall, Of the finest clothes for the present Fall. R OCKHILL k WILSON continue to keep The beet of Clothing, wonderful cheep. E XCELLENT, Elegant, Extra Clothes, As each of our customers thoroughly knows. A LL our best citiscns come, this Fall, And buy their clothes at the Great Bro' n Hall T ELL your relations and neighbors, all, How cheap you buy at the Great Brown Hall. B ROWN, and olive, and drab, and green, The richest shades that ever were seen. R EADY-MADE Clothing, of style and taste, Or made to measure with promptest haste. O VERCOATS, stylish, and strong and stout, That will not bother by wearing out. W HAT can a gentleman wear, at all, [ Better than clothes from the Great Bi N ONE in the world so good or so cheap, As the clothes which Rockhill A Wilson keep. H ALL filled fuU of magnificent piles Of Fine Fall Clothes, of the richest styles. A LL the varieties now in store, And constantly adding more and more. L ONG or short though our customers be, We fit them exactly ; come and see. L OWER than ever the prices, all, [Hall. Of the Goods we sell at the Great Rrown All Good and True Men Are always invited fo buy their Clothes at the Great Brown Hall of ROCKHILL & WILSON. 603 & 605 ÇHESTNITT Street, PHII.APK1.PHI A. G Hall. rown Nov. 6-r-3m new stove, tin, AND HOUSE-FURNISHING STORE. THOMAS II. ROTHWEIiU'S NEW BUILDING-, North Side of Mein Street,« Building« West of Town Hall, Middletown, Delaware. Where he has constantly on hand, and is pre pared to manufacture ALL KINDS OF TIN WARE, At Short Notice. Particular attention paid to ROOFING AND SPOUTING. Orders respectfully solicited and promptly atten ded to. STOVES. THE NATIONAL, CONTINENTAL, ORIENTAL, CHARM, GEM, BUN, LITTLE GIANT, BRILLIANT, Brize and the Victor Cook. Orders will be received and promptly any kind of Stove that may be ordered. filled for GALVANIZED RUSSIA AND SHEET IRON ZINC, COAL HODS, SEIVES, POKERS, SHOVELS, TEA KETTLES, BAKE PANS, WAFFLE IRONS SAD IRONS, BRASS k ENAMELLED PRESERVING KETTLES, ENAMELLED SAUCE PANS, TEA DELLS, JAPANNED CHAMBER BUCKETS, SPITTOONS, WAITERS, LANTERNS, FLOUR AND PEPPER BOXES, SAND CUPS, PATCH SAFES (Cast Iron,) POSASSES PUPS. PEACH CAK8, ( Soldered and Self-Sealing ) RATENT CLOTHES FRAMES, ke.'kc. ke. Attention is respectfully called to our new F AMIL Y & RESTAURANT STOYE Which is especially adapted to stewing, frying, and broiling oysters. No wood, qp coal, qq coal gas, no stove pipe, I, no dirt, no wood boxes, no coal scut kindling wqo4 bqt a friction match, and in hill oui*i In half a minute, oven hot in tles, no the fire in two minutes, steak broiled in seven minutes, ,bread baked in thirty minutes, the fire extin gtiishffd iff a moment. 4 fcas ffa fif'd ia all Winds of cooking, and in economy, convenience, neatness, safety and durability. Please call and examine it in operation at Thomas H. Rothwell's Stove Store, MIDDLETOWN, DEL. Sole owner of the stove for the State. Prompt ffUcfftipff tp bffiiness, tqp^efalff prices, competent workmen, ami a determination to please, may at all times be expected by those who may favor hin) jyRb •h«* 1 ' cu,,on ;, Aug. *•—r__ OYß^ppS ROYSTERS ! ! r .(MI CRI8FIELD OYSTERS win be semd throughout the seaso n, to quantities to suit purchaser«. Apply to Oit. e—3m- Charte« Adame. Joftrg. TAKE TfftB PAPERS. BV M. P. WILLIS. Why don't you take the paper*? They're the life of our delight; Except about election time, And then 1 read for spite, Subscribe 1 you cannot lose a cent ; Why should you be afraid? For cash thus paid is money lent At interest four-fold paid. Go, then, and take the papers. And pay to-dav, nor pay delay, And on my word it is inferred, You'll live until you're gray. An old and quiet neighbor While dying with a cough, Desired to hear the latest news While ho waa going off. I took the paper, and I read Of some new pills ip force : He bought a box—and is he qend? Nq-rrhearty as a horse. I knew two men aa much alike As e'er you saw two stumps, And no phrenologist could find A difference in t^eir bumps. One takes the paper and his life Is happier than a king's, His children all can read and write, And t&lk of men and things. The other took no paper, and While strolling through the wood, A tree fell down and broke his crown, Apd killed him ;— u very good," Had he been reading of the news, At home, like neighbor Jim, I'll bet a cent that accident Would not have happened him. Why don't you take the papers? Nor from the printer speak, Because you borrow from his boy A paper every week. For he who takes the And pays his hill v papers, lien due ; Cun live in peace with God apd man, And w ith the printer too. feiert ^torj). THE BROKEN HOME. " TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION." In San Francisco, on the uorth side of Folsoui street, overlooking Mission Bay, stands a palatial residence. The iuterior of this house is even beautiful thun its exterior, every apart ment being in its way a gem of luagui ficenec and refinement. The library especially realizes the most perfect ideal of an elegant and cultured home. And yet, the moment we look in upon him—oue August afternoon, as he occu pied bis library—the proprietor of all this wealth appeared of »ti men the most mis erable. He was Sir. Morton Preble, for many years a leading bunker of San Francisco. It was in vain that the broad bay window at the south end of the room had been opened, giving ingress to the sun shine and the fragrance of rare flowers— in vain that the wails were lined with richly carved book-cases and paintings— in vain that soft couches and luxurious chairs had been gathered around him. He was wretched. lie lay on a sofa, in the depths of the great bay-window, the wreck of a once powerful man. His figure was thin and gaunt ; his face wflte as marble ; his eyes having an expression of woful ap prehension, of harrowing anxiety, of dreadful expectancy. It was evident at a glance that no merely physical ailment bad m»de him what qe was. By what withering secret, by what de stroying affliction, had he been thus ag onized ? thus haunted ? thus hunted ? he so nohje and good ! he so wealthy and distinguished ! As he moved restlessly upon his luxu rious cushions the pretty olook on the mantel-piece struck five, every stroke seeming to full like a hammer upon the heart of the nervous invalid, Re aroused himself, struggling feebly to a sitting posture. "Ob, will this fata) day pass ?" ho murmured ; * '• relief?" more never, never nor bring us Noticing with a nervous start that he was alone, he touched a bell upon a table before him, and oalled : " Helen, Helen! where are you?" Before the eohoes of his voice had died a step was heard, apd bia wife entered S reaenee. left you only for a moment, Mor ton," she said, advancing to tho banker's side. " You were dozing I think- I wished to tend Cor the doctor !" Sh« W" » beautiful woman, of gome six and thirty years, graoeful, with broad white brows, and loving eyes, ip which the brightness and sweetness of a sun shiny nature were still perceptible, under a grief and anxiety no less poignant that evinced by her husband. f! Th* dflCtor !" he eehoded, h»lf-re proachfnlly. " Yes, dear," the said, in a calm and cheerful voice, as she drew 8 chair to the side of the sofff, aqd sat dqwn, stroking the coprpgated forehead of the invalid with q magnetic touch. " He will be here immediately, ÿour last qerynqa çri w Sfr' " e P * 7 ' reble bestowed an affectionate look upon his wife, but said despondently ! " The doctor 1 He cannot 'minister to a mind diseased!" Oh, if these long out his " P I than I a*.. hours would only psss ! If I only know what the day has yet in store for us !" "Look up, Morton!" enjoined Mrs. Preble, with a reverently trustful glance upward through the open window at the blue sky, and as if looking beyond the azure clouds therein. " Let us appeal from the injustice and wickedneas of earth to the goodness and mercy of Heaven 1" The banker gave g low, sobbing sigh. " I cannot look up, Helen," he ans wered, with a passionate tremor in his voice—"only down, down at the grave that is open before me I" Mrs. Preble continued to stroke his forehead softly, while she lifted her pale faoc to the sunlight streaming into the apartment. ' ' Look up, Morton—always look up !" she again enjoined upon the invalid. " During all these fourteen years of agony I have not onoe doubted either the good ness or the justice of Heaven. " Blessed are thoy that mourn : for they shall be comforted." I believe that we shall yet rejoice more keenly than we havo ed, and that we shall come to a glorious day of joy beyond all this long night of sorrow !" The face of the invalid lighted up with an answering glow, and he murmured ; "Glorious faith! My wife, you indeed s blessed comforter ! Perhaps, af ter all, you are right !" A knock resounded on a side-door at this juncture, and the next moment Dr. Hutton, the family physician, for whom Mrs. Preble had sent, entered the , portly in figure, with white hair and beard, but with a fresh and ruddy complexion, a pair of shrewd blue eyes, and with an exuberant boyishness of manner that sat well him. He had a kind heart and head. Ho approached the sofa, after greeting the husband and wife, and lifted the thin restless hand of the invalid, feel ing his pulse. " Quite a high fever," he said, after a brief pause. " Worrying again, eh, Mr Preble?" You are wearing yourself out. Medicine will do you do good so long your mind is ip its present condition. I must give you an opiate "Not now, doctor, mourn are room. He was nn old man upon a clear ai interposed the banker. " I cannot—must not—sleep to day ! I need to be broad awake now, for I cannot tell at any moment what the next may bring forth I am looking for the culmination qf all my years of an guish—for the crowning agony of the whole. Perhaps even now—Ah, what was that ?" He Started np wildly, and then, as the sound that had disturbed him was not re peated, he sank bank again on his cush ions, pallid and panting. The doctor looked at Mrs. Preble with an anxious, questioning glance. " It is the anniversary," sho replied to his unspoken inquiry—" the anniversary of o»r losg." "Ah, yes," said the doctor. "I re member." " Yes, it's another of those terrible days," cried the banker, in a hollow whis per. " Sit down, doctor, and I will tell you the whole story. I can think of noth ing else to-day, and am almost wild with apprehension and anxiety. Sit down." Dr. Hutton drew up a chair and seated himself, his face expressing the double solicitude of a friend and physician. " You knew us fourteen doctor," said Mr. Preble, then where we do qow, in a cottage oq the site of this great mansion. There were but three of us—Helen and I. and our three-year old Jessie. And it was fourteen years ago to-day that our little Jessie was stolen from Us." " I remember it," said the doctor softly. " Yet might she not have been lost, Mr. Preble ? She went out to play in tbo garden, if I remember rightly, and never seen by you again. She might have strayed away—" "So wa thought for » whole year doc tor," interrupted the banker " We never dreamed that she had been stolen. We searched everywhere for her, and offered immense rewards for her recovery. I em ployed dgteptives, but all to no purpose. When our little Jessie ran down the steps into that flower-garden," and he pointed to the front of the house, " as if the earth had opened aud swallowed her up, never saw ber again." " She must have found the gate open, and wandered out," suggested Dr. ton. " She might have strolled down to the w«t?r» #hd beeq dfowned." The banker fixed bia burning eyes upon the physiciqn's face, and whispered : " I said we payer saw the poor child again. I did not say we had not heard of ber. She was lost on the 0th of August, 1854. For a year we thought her dead. But on the anniversary of our low we eeived a written message concerning her." " A message !" oried Dr. Hutton, atart ing. years ago, " Wo lived was we ut re " A mere scrawl—a single line in a hand evidently disguised," said the hunk er. "Hereit is." He produced a dingy scrap of paper from a draw in the table, and held it up to the view fif 'h® pby«jci«n, who read aa follows i "AugffjtS, latl. Jessie, ha, hat Jessie." Dr. Hutton looked, with a puzzled air, from the scrap of paper, which he turned over and oyer, to the pountenanpe pf the banker. f' I pan make nothing of this," he de clared. V ft iff merely a date, with the name of your lost daughter. It teils nothing." " Nor did it na, at first," said Mr. Preble. " Then that- name apd that date, me with the demon laugh connecting them, set us to thinking, A whole year agonized over the dreadful problem, and then we received another message, which you shall see." He thrust a second slip of paper, iden tical In shape and appearance with the first, before the gaze of Dr. Hutton, who read it aloud : m "August 9, 1856. Your Jessie still lives," The physician started as if electrified. "Ah ! this is something definite—some thing decisive," he muttered. "It con vinced you that your daughter was still living." es, doctor," said Mr. Preble, "and every anniversary of that day has brought us some message. The disappearance the child, mysterious as it is, does not seem to me half so strange as that the vil lain who took her away could contrive to communicate with us every year since, and always on a particular day—the anniversa ry of that on which she wag stolen—with out our being able to discover who he is. And a still greater wonder to me is what can be his motive. It seems incredible. If it was stated in a novel many people would not believe it. But, 'truth is Btran ger than fiction.* " Mrs. Preble drew from her husband's breast-pocket his note-book, opened it to the proper page, and presented it to the physician. hr. Hutton adjusted his spectacles, glanced over the page, and then slowly read the group of entries aloud. The en try the first year is as follows : "August 9, 1855. Jessie, ha, ha 1 Jessie !" And the next year it is— " August 0, 1856. Your Jessie still lives/" Aqjj the next— " August 9, 1857. She is in good hands !" And the next— " August 9, 1858. She is well as ever!" And the next— "August 9, 1859. I saw her yesterday!" And the next— "Augusts, I860. She is growing rapidly !" And the next— " August 9, 1861. She continues to do veil!" And the next— "August 9, 1862. I've seen her again!" And the next— "August 9, 1863. She's becoming a woman!" And the next— "August 9, 1864. Tour child is thirteen !" And the next— "August 9, 1865. She's lovelier than ever l" And tlje next— "August 0 1866. She's realty charming t" And the next— "August 9, 1867. ily reward i, a! hand I" And what shall we get to-day ! The physician looked up and fixed his thoughtful gaze upon the bereaved husband and wife. "IIow did those messages come lo you?" he demanded. "Invariably by post," replied Mr. Pre ble. "Usually to the house, but some times to the office!" "And you have never seen their thor?" "Never !" au "The last of them is dated, I see, a year ago to-dny 1" "Yss, yes," faltered the banker, "and the time has come for another message. This is the 0th of August, 1868 !" "I see," said Dr. H is the secret of your terrible excitement Y'ou are expecting to receive to-day anoth er of these strange messages !" There was a brief silence. Mrs. Pre ble's hand fluttered in its task, and her face grew very pale. The banker breath ed gaspingly. The physician regarded them both in friendly sympathy. "We shall hear of her again to-day," said Mr. Preble; "and what will the mes sage be ?" The mother averted her face. Her brave heart faltered as that question echoed in her soul. "The writer of these letters is unques tionably the abductor of your child 1" said Dr. Hutton. "Havo you any suspicion as to his identity ?" "Not the slightest," said Mr. Preble. "We have puzzled over the problem for maDy years, but we cannot guess who he utton. "And this "Think," said the doctor. "Havo yoq no enemy? I do not mean people with whom you are not friendly—every stirring man has plenty of these—but a downright enemy ! Is there no man whom you knew in the East who hated you ! No one a gainst whom you were called upon to tes tify—no one whom you possibly injured?" The banker shook bjs head, fje had asked himself theBe questions repeatedly. "I have no such enemy, dootor," he answered with sincerity of voice aqd man ner. "And Mrs. Preble?" suggested the doc tor, turning to her. "Have you no jeoted snitor who might be revengeful enough to desolate your home ?" "No," said the lady. "I was married early. Morton was my first lover!" "This is strange—very strange!" mut tered the doctor. "You are not conscious of having nn enemy in the wor)d, and yet you hay« an enemy—a hidden foe—a fiend in human form-rwho ia working out against you a fearful hatred ! And yoq have not the slightest suspicion as to whom he is V "Not the slightest," declared the ban re ker. "Not the slightest," echoed Mr». Pre ble. , "My husband had a s who might haye been capable p my— bqt he is dead J 1 ' thin ipfa "The handwriting is not familiar ? "No. It is merely a rude ffcrpwl, as you see," sajd the hanker. "It suggests nothing—except that it is evidently dis guised !" Again there was a profound silence. » "Our child is seventeen years old now." at length murmured Mrs. Preble, her voice trembling. "She is on tho thres hold of womanhood. No doubt, during all these years, sho has yearned for us, wher ever she may be, as we have yearned for her!" "But where is she ?" asked the physi cian—and now his voice was broken by his deep sympathy with the agonized par ents. "Where can sho be?" "Heaven only knows," answered the mother. "Perhaps in San Francisco— perhaps in some rude hut in the interior, with some obscure farmer, and under a name that is pot hers ! I think her ab ductor would have carried her to some lonely region of tho interior, among the valleys and mountains. Yet I never see a young girl in the streets without turning to look at her. I never hear a girlish voice without listening eagerly, half fan ing that it thay prove tho voice of my lost Jessie !" "Oh, pitying heaven!" sighed Dr. Hut ton, dashing a flood of tears from his eyes. "Will this Tong agony never he over?" "We hope so, and even believe so," an swered Mrs. Preble, with the firmness of an unfaltering trust in God's mercy. "The last message we received from our enemy seems to point to some kind of a change." "True," assented Dr. HuttoD, looking at the message in question- "It is un like the others. It says lhat his 'reward is at hand.' He means either that he in tends to marry your daughter, or that he intends to demand money of you for bring ing her back—or both." "We shall soon know," said Mrs. Pre ble, with forced calmness. "To-day we shall have another message, no doubt. What will it be?" The banker turned restlessly on his so fa, and his face grew even paler. "Whatever it is, let it come !" he mur mured. "Anything can be borne better than this awful suspense, Let it come !" As if his impatient words had precipita ted a crisis, a stop was heard on the walk at this moment, and a ring at the front door followed. "Another message !" breathed the bau cy kcr. A servant soon entered, bearing a let ter, which bo extended to 5J r - Preble, saying : "The bearer is in the hall." With an eager gaze, the baukcr glanced at the superscription of tho missive. "It is from him I" He tore the envelope open. It contained a slip of paper, of well known shape and appearance, upon which was scrawled a single line, in an equally well-known bandwriting, which the ban ker exhibited to his wife and the physi cian. This line was as follows: "August 9, 1868. At six l wilt call /" A shock of wonder and horror shook the three simultaneously. "Will call!" cried Mr. Preble, starting to his feet, and glaring wildly around. "Is coming here ?'.' cried Mrs. Preble, also arising, "It seems so," said Dr. Hutton, his eyes again reverting to the message. "He will be hero at six o'clock, and see ! it is six already !" Even as lie spoke, the clock on the man telpicoo commenced striking the appointed hour, and at that instant heavy footsteps resounded in the ball, approaching tho li brary. "It is he !" As the last stroke of the hour resound ed, the door leading from the hall again openod. Une long and horrified glance cast the banker and bis wife in that direction, and then she fell to the floor. Her senses had left her. The above we publish as a specimen chapter ; hut the continuation of this story will be found on ly in the N. Y. Ledger. Ask for the num ber dated December 4th, which oan bo had at any news office or bookstore. If you are not within reach of a news office, you can have the Ledger mailed to you for one year by sending three dqllars to Robert Bonner, publisher, 182 William street, New York. The Ledger pays more for original contributions than any other pe riodical in the world. It will publish none but the very, very best. Its moral tone is the purest, and its circulation the larg est. Every body who takes it is happier for having it. Leoq Lewis, Mrs. Harriet Lewis, Mrs. South worth, Sir. Cobb, Pro fessor Peck, Mary Kyle Dallas, Fanny Fern and Miss Dupuy will write oply for the Ledger hereafter. Mr. Ronoer, like other loading publish ers, might issue three or five papers and magazines ; but he prefers to concentrate all his energies npon one, and ip that way to make it the best. One Dexter is wort! more than three or five ordinary horses. One science only can one genius flt, Bo vast is art, so narrow human wit. Traininu Does.—In the course of some conversation in relation to dogs. Governor Anderson, of Ohio, related aTexan practice in trainipg dogs with sheep :—" A pup is taken from if« mother before its eyes are opened, and j»ut with an ewe to suokle. After a few times the ewe becomes recon ciled to the pup, wbipb follows bor like a lamb, grows np among and remains with the flock, and do wolf, man, or strange dog can come near the sheep, and the dog will bring the flock to the fold regularly at 7J o'clock, jf you hqbitually feed him" at that hour." What are the three degrees of compari son fcr a lawyer? First, he has to get on, then to got honor, then to get honest • ' ' i> jêeled jjoctrg. NEEDLES AND PINS. Ye arc trivial tilings, With invisible wings, Needles and pins ; Common and mean, Yet pointed und keen. Vseful alike to the cook or the queen, Bright needles and pins. Men have waxed wroth For the want of ye both, Needles and pins ; Women have railed, Reddened and paled, Hunted and scolded till language has failed, For needles and pins. Heads rounded and bright, Eyes single and light, Needles and pins ; Ye have witnessed strange scenes. Shnrp blunts and betweens ; Working for angels and working for fiends, Bright needles and pins. The set of that frill Is due to your skill, Needles and pins ; The droop and the grace Of yon satin and lace, And look of content on that young husband'sface, Üh I needles and pins. Ye have hidden the rent In the beggar's garment, Needles and pins ; As ye've mended his tears, So ye've lightened his cares, Till ogpip he has need of your aid and repairs, Bright needles and pips. But where do you go, When your work's done, we'd know, # Needles and pins ; What nook do you So secret and kind, That a mortal no trace of your brightness can find, Lost needles and pins ? find ÜÜIit ami Humor. A celebrated comedian arranged with his green grocer, one Berry, to pay hitn quarterly; but the green-grocer sent in his account long before the quarter was duo. The oomedian, in great wrath, called upon the green-grocer, and, laboring under the impression that his credit was doubted, said ; " I say, here's a mull, Berry ; you have sent in your bill. Berry ; before it is due. Berry Your father, tho elder, Berry; would uot have been such a goose, Berry; hut you need not look black, Berry; for I don't care a straw, Berry ; and 1 shan't pay you till Christmas, Berry." A gentleman was chiding his son for stayiug out late at night or rather early next morning, and said : "Why, when I was of your age, my father would not allow me to go out of the house after dark." "Then you had a deuce of a father, you had," sneered the young profligate. Whereupon the father very rashly vo ciferated ; "I had a oonfounded sight better one than you, you young rascal." "Parson, I had rather hear you preach," saidabaffled, swindlinghorsejoekey, "than see you interfere in bargains between man and man." "Well," said tho parson, "if you had been where you ought to havo been last Sunday, you would havo heard mo preach." "Where was that?" said the jockey. "In the State Prison," returned the clergyman. Washington Beldonj indulged iq a j sarcasm, but when he did he mad decided hit. During the debate on the es tablishment of the Federal Army, a mem ber of Congress offered a resolution limit ing it to three thousand men ; to which Washington suggested an amendment, pro viding no enemy should ever invade the country with more than three thousand men. Tho laughter which ensued smoth ered the resolution. or o a An Irishman once said to another. "Ye have taken the teetotal pledge, have ye?" "Indade I have, and I'm not ashamed of it, aither. Timothy to take a little wine for his stom "So he did ; but my name is not Timothy, and there is nothing the matter with my stomaoh." "Sure and didn't Paul tell ach's sake? An eminent electrician was travelling lately in the cars, when a man came up and aaked him for hia fare. " yog ?" sqid B- I? my name is Wood ; I am the conductor." "Oh," said the pro fessor, very quietly, "that pan't be, for wood is a non-conductor." Who are An old offender was lately introduced to a negro Justice of the Peace, in one of the reconstructed States, as John Simmons, alias Jones, alias Smith. "I'll try the two women first," said the thick-headed Justice. "Bring in Aliee Jones." -f Two Irishmen were put in prison-—one for stealing a cow, and the other for steal ing a watch. "Mike," said the cow-steal er, one day, "what o'clock ia it?" "Och, Pat, I hav'n't my watch bandy, but I think it's about milkin' time." Why is a dull and plausible man like an unrifled gun? Ana.—Because he is a smooth here. Men of mark—Those who caq't write theif own names. Well "posted" -The tejegraph For the Middletown Transcript. TUB BEAUTIBS OF NATURE. A Lecture read before the War vu Irk Lyceum. The beautieg of Nature are beautiful and sublime to the eye, and the many curiosities which are formed in Nature are so astonishing to the human tntnd th$t it is almost an impossibility to illustrate even to imagine them. The beautiful landscapes present to the eye so lovely an appearance that the mind cannot conceive nor comprehend theip ; aiu| the flowery which so beautifully decorate and garnish the earth, and send forth their sweet and delicious odors impress our thoughts more powerfully with the wisdom and goodness of their Creator. Nature is lovely through all her works, and the appreciative ujincJ never tires of their contemplation. Who can describe the unreaveled or secrets of nature, whose visions are so sublime that they may enwrap all hearts ; her pure ness is undefiled and brilliant RS the fpoon berms that send forth my a of light to iU lume the dark and weary hours pf tho silent night. Nature has endowed qy with her exhaustleBS riches, which aro manifest through all ber mysterious works. I could refer you to other wonders of nature, but, for the present wj)l only pitp you to the magnificent structures qf tho mammoth cave in Kentucky, and the cava in Asia, which have been explored for miles, and the neat architecture which has been dis played upon their arches and t|)P beautiful streams of water flowing through their channels and the variegated stories and stalactites glittering with dazzling brightness and sending forth picturesque features which for centuries have witness: ed and set forth the mysterious works of nature. Now let us pass to the consideration of the dead sea, in Asia, that mysterious body of water which is constantly receiv ing streams of flowing water, and its depth never varies one inch. Where this pyep flowing stream of water passes off at is q great mystery that cannot be com prehear ded by the most learned men of our day. I could refer you to many other mys teries in nature if time would admit, but I am admopished to close, \yhicb I dp with the following lines : Fair scenes pf Nature! Gentle and sweet as thou art, Gentle as the violets that bloom In Iheir grassy little cells. their glittering blossoms, How sweetly does their foliugc look I is I How sweetly has nature adorned them, How sweetly has she cuwraped them Wjth a bright und heavenly hue, In brightness she has clothed them And watered with pearly dew. Dr. Pump-maker, would state that his celebrated remedy has never failed to give satisfaction in curing old pumps of their maladies ; that is, simply by pulling out the old ones and placing new ones in their stead. If this remedy is properly ap plied it will undoubtedly avoid all snatcb g, jerking and squeaking, completely. Here wash-day comes, then he knows that tho devil's to pay. women stinging him like hornets on every side, quarreling, fussing, and driving the dogs out of tho kitchen, children hallow ing and crying ; so this is the way that wash-day goes on by negjeptiog the doer, tor's celebrated remedy, which if properly applied would unhesitatingly put a stop to all snob affairs. And here the with comes, she is in a terrible uproar ! " Oh dear," she says, " every preparation has been made to wash to-day, and there is no water in the pump, and you hays been lounging about all the week, chewing to bacco and makiqg your clothes dirty like a hog, and have neglected to have the pump put ip order, apd wb e P Sunday comes you expect us to have clean clothes for you to attend church, caused by neglecting the Dootor's remedy. If it was properly applied it would no doubt have proven satisfactory in both cases, not ouly in the pump, hut it would have put a stop to this devil's p)ay also. Oh the ladies! I had nearly-forgotten them ! How ploasing aro they in their youthful beauty, with their rosy checks aud charming eyes, which attract us at every turn, when they appear in our pres ence. m Here conics the a All this is of 1 would a)so ljke lo etofe that we bnfi an old bachelors wedding a few nights ago in this town of Warwick. I never had my hopes raised so high in my life I had on this occasion. I really im magined that they were flying like tho transitory stars that dart through tho heavens and disappear in the horizon. I still cast a lingering hope To future days lo conic, When old bachelors cau get married, I think there's hope for qje.. Don't forget the remedy. All he asks is a trial, and he is confident that he will give satisfaction, at reasonable rates. The public's friend. Dr. J. W. Pump-maker, Nearly opposite J. S. Ilaye's store. Main Street, Warwick. I FVm a Gold. — 4» the »easou of colds and coughs is at hand we publish the fol lowing : Take a heaped dessert spoonful ef flax seed, put in a pint of water, cover it, and let it boil to a half pint. )f the^seods do not seule tu fh« bottom pour in à Kttle more hot water, and stir well. Put in a tablespoonful of genuine vinegar, and as much brown angnr a* you like, and take after getting into bed. It ia a powerful sudorific, and cnU the phlegm. Avoid exposure next day. Jfl Cork, the crier of the court, anxious to diapers» the orowd around tl ( o bar, claimed : "All ye blaokgqards that isn't lawyers, quit the eonrt cx-