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. , " i -J 1 3iJV- SV.X i -W-" . r.'r:,.- rrv-. ,, :; ':,.. :. ....:m.,.5i ;,.! iv f f fs Hi? J It? I P. B. CONN, PUBLISHER, COMER MARKET AND 4TH STS. Z. RAGAN, Editor and Proprietor. SOPHIE'S BROTHER. BT MBS. 0. M. RIDDLE. (CONCLUDED.) ' ; " ;V ' Meantime, whenever t glanced at' the lovers, Willard seemed absont and pre occupied; rwhilc Sophie looked wearied and really- unhappy, bo that I begged her brother at last to take us homo. On reti ring; to ,my own room, I closely scanned my heart. "Did I, or did I not love Wil lard Eaymond, my long-cherished ideal '!" I Raid. With a gush of thankfulness I nswcrod, "No." I had been cherishing a va'm illusion, I found, which vanished when divested of all its romance. But I ' could not conceal from myself that Sophie's lover was attracted to me. Should I cause my gentle friend one pang ? JIust I call 'one shadow to that pure young brow? ' No. My mind was made up. I would fly from his presence. I would return to Madame A . 0 The next morning, when I entered So .phie'fl room, she had not yet risen. 1 1 flrow away the curtain. How lovely' I thought her! The rounded arm wk'cn Buaaea mas piaciu urow wa wuue as mo snowy pinow ; u.e pa.e CUee,v, pure in us !ii . ii. . ...l. .1 l. ju.rwraa.parcucy, uiu .ung, uwvj ii.Ugi i i tji uioscu on iuu0 vvua.y ujes, urn. wun icam oi uuicrncBB ; auu i.u.u win flushed and parted lips was heard a soft, low murmnr. I caught the echo of his name the faithless one! I sat beside ner p.uow, ounea in g.oomy mougnt; dui ii n i i .1 i l - l l tho voice of Sophie roused me. "Julia, dear Julia," it cried, "where am I ? Why uro vou sittinp- there V 1 told hcr that 1 i v i i t . 1 1 i ii i. slumbers, but that I should not allow her . j, ,t i . fo lfilrt nw.iv mnr mnrn nf inn Tlfnsniit. j --J ... ..-w mnrnin 'Inilcon. rlpur .In in. I too , ... . .. . , weak this morning, my exertions last evening quite overtasked my strengh." "Rest then, my darling," I replied, I replied, "I am thinking of leaving you for a time. I am about returning to Madame A ." "Never, dear Julia, you must not leave me, I have felt for a timo my early doom, and before tho buds and blossoms of an other spring I shall bo safe in my father's hous, whither my mother's smile seems ever beckoning me' and you will not, can not leave mo." "Hush, my dearest dar- ' ling," I answered, "do not talk of dying." "Yes, dear Julia, I have long felt the fal 'lacy of my earthly hopesj nay, turn not away, yon must hear mo now. As I have told you before, it was the wish of Willard's father, communicated to him on his dying bed, that Willard should choose me for, his future wife; indeed a promise was exacted i from him that he would fulfil this last re- quest ; this I never knew until lately ; but the truth has forced itself upon me; and t n e ' a- ii,. v:. l not lavished unon mo. in the same rich ..... a . e . . him r nd last nwht. nav. do not interrunt me, when he followed your every motion with .dmirincr eve-and how could he do 1 '.otherwise ?-I felt that it would be my greatest happiness to see two dearest friend, united beforo I leave vou. Prom- ;M m thon. dear Julia, that vou will love '.nH Rnrinh Willard Ravmond as I. would have done." But I would not allow her . to proceed. "No, dear Sophie, not even to gratify you," I said, "can I promlso jthat ; besides I have no heart to bestow, I :1ovjO another." "Can it bo?" she cried. "And you have not breathed tho secret fivimtome? Or is it the unknown hero?" "No, dear Sophie, I have forgotten him Jong ago,". I replied. "Still my love now is hopeless." "Ah !' will you not tell mo?" Bhe said, throwing her arras around my neck. ' I trembled to reveal it. but t could not deny hcr. . "Promise mo," I saidr "that to no one not even to the winds will von breathe his name." The rcciuired promise was riven, and, bendine over her, ' T .nnlfB tha namo of her brother, but so low that I scarcely thought she heard mo, fr T fMrpi lest the walls might repeat the ' echo 4. perfect glow of delight suffused those pale features; She kissed mo. again and aeain. "Then, then," she cried, "will . ; toy heart's fondest wishes be accomplish ed," "Yes, but, Sophia, my, love. is noi returned, nor ever can be," I answered. . lEceklg ounial, She faded from that time : and.Willard, who seemed rpused jajo aji appreciation of the value of the gem that was passing from his grasp, was as devoted as her warmest friends could wish. Ho camo daily with his gift of flowieTS,,fit offering for the pure hearted. How she worshipped every leaf and bud ! what hope and peace to her sad hear, did sho imbibe with their fragrance. We hoped for a time that sho would re vive, but our hopes were only too fleeting. Tho bright , beams of morning rested on the face, of the fair sleeper, as I beheld her for the last time. Those lovely eyes were closed to know no waking ; a sweet smile rested on the niputh, whose lips were closed forever. I prpssed one last, linger ing kiss on that fair brow; and with a wild gush of weeping was led to tho carriage that was to bear me away. Mr. Lee om braced rac with all, the tenderness of a father, and told me I must come to them again to cheer their loneliness ; while Herbert gave mo a silent pressure of the liand, his whole faco .quivering with emo tion.' But lie 'mado'bo demonstration of love. 1 had passed from before him, per haps forever J ancl.hj had made no sign. . Oh T-how- Jeeti&iiJi lie very desolate HRGwed mi 3iuu& Wht&?innA mom on for. cd'p)i.f0aV Vltcre were garnered so m.mrtr Kvervtbin-r m,l.-n nf a i , , presencc-her sweet fnoo niv ' peucJ ga,ing from cvcry page I turned, How j long(jd bufc f()f ft nf tx.n,,n i1(,.;s1lf,(i fntllrna nmo A wq)t ber tf Ao W1 T, ji,f,. 0,i e . k.fml.;0 b lfir tftan w fin ,.r w a ' J haJ she ncsUcJ ;n of ,)Cr sclioo, t & t it , . . , , - wn coulJ . of hcr wlth cdmnoM or rcsl ....... . The trials through which I had passed , , , . , , . uau not oeun wmiuut iiieir cneci upon my i myself worthy of the love of those anions; ; . h self in their pursuits ; in sharing their joys; and in communing with their sym pathies I found balm for my own lacerated heart. I have not told vou, reader, how deeply Herbert Lees imago had been cherished in the depths of my inmost soul; how of hiin, and him only, had I dreamed, until I felt, that in tearing that idol from its throne, every bright hope must be . i r . i,.t - ""BS ' ' mam unsiiuMiiuu , uvuiy tiiiii.iiijf nuiu uu sacrificed. Oh ! how lonely and desolate seemed tho future now ! What had done to merit such a fate ? Nevertheless these feelings I tried to subdue. Still I was conscious of being greatly changed. I no longer felt the samo buoyancy that i i . i .i i i 1 . ii . ciatea c m oiner a' mi grauuuuy a calm s.ettled ? m? llfe as clouds of fa!r tranquility are scon resting on the face of h11"0 Huer UB Ul olU1'"8 "HU xmn' IjOHs before the year had expired I was mht WillarJ XjmonA. Fain would I have shuuncd the inectinjr. I assured tim hisH wcre a11 m Vain-his I could ncvcr be- 11(3 sccmed mudl aSitatcd and told how years before, he had watched mo la m? ramllcs for' manJ a day UDScen be" lore no naa maao mmseu v.sioic : men how ho had fled tne sPot and av0ldcd me' remembering his engagement to Sophie for how could ne treak a pledge made to a dying fatncr?- At last meeting ie soun- eipdttedly tho night of the party, his feel ings had unwittingly betrayed him into showing an indifference to Sophie, that, he sometimes feared, had hastened the rava- ges of her disease. , "But now that he was free," ho said, "would I not givo him some hopo ?, Would I not, after years had Pas,cd lct him 8ee mo a6ain ?" 1 1060 al" most in anger. These propositions seemed swrilogo to Soiio's memory. "Had you loved her as sho deserved," I said, "had Jou even been truo, as a man of honor, to your pledge, you would nevet have pained nr poor heart.", , "But I repented," ho dded yur?elf witnessed the cxpia- tion I .made on her death-bed.': "I did," I replied, more calmly, "but die blow had goM home nevertheless," and then I told bow, with, martyr-like spirit, she had herself offered to sacrifice him. . "Go," I concluded, "once I might hare loved you; - but n MT?fj He went, and, after his departure I felt still more le'n'ely.. rM,y jdepr'esi'on iof ;pir. . ; J ; f " ' ' '. ' ' ' ' ' !,' L' Debate)) to American fiteis, f iterator, Jitiwte, anV 6nural $ntdligciict. ; STEUBENVILLE, THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 1855. its alarmed me. Could it bo that I had even now a lingering affection for bim ? I felt perfectly satisfied that I had done right, and yet I was very sad. Herbert could never be mine, I said, for if ho had loved me ho Woiild have sought me beforo this. Had I consulted my happiness in thus dismissing Raymond ? Was it such a crime to love me, that I should send him with scorn away? No, I had not done wrong, I said. Better live lonely and un loved always, than do sacrilege to Sophie's memory, or unite myself to a man, who, though once my ideal, I could no longer look up to. So I sat, one winter morning, ruminating on the darkness that had gath ered around my pathway, and which it seemed no bright cloud was ever to pene trate, when a knock at my door startled me from my' reverie. It was a servant, with the information that a gentleman de sired my presence in the parlor. "My guardian then has como to take me home," I said, for my term was nearly out. "Was I sd soon to leave 1" I thought of the friends I was leaving, the only ones I uow had ; and tears came to my eyes as I des cended the stairs. With trembling steps I approached the parlor. I paused a mo ment to recover composure, and then slowly entered the room, but still with downcast eyes, for I dreaded to meet tho reality of my now almost forgotten guar dian's presence. Tho French window was close by tho door, and as I passed it, hear ing tho bell of tho public academy, which was immediately in front of Madame k 's seminary, ringing for school, I involuntarily glanced out. A snow had fallen during the night, and the street and roofs were covered with tho pure white mantle. Two littlo village girls were truding along, leaving deep footprints at every step, but they did not seem to mind cither this or the cold. "Ah !" said I, "they have a father and mother, they have brothers and sisters to love were I too thus blessed, I could willingly be poor, I also could cheerfully trudge through the snow to school. But there is no one to love me, I am alone in the wide, wide world." But suddenly nt this thought, I was re called to myself, by a person rising : and now I was at last compelled to look up. Ah ! what was my astonishment and de light, when instead of my guardian, I be held Sophie's brother, who advanced with open handa and eloquent eyes to meet me. " Dear Julia," he said and drew me to tho sofa. Then ho poured forth in burning language, tho love so long kept back, and the reason why ho had delayed. " I have loved you from the first, dear Julia," ho Baid, "but well did I guard my secret. Sophie's warm affection for hcr friend endeared me to you beforo saw you, and I was prepared to lovo at onco. But I fancied that my feelings could never bo returned. You seemed ever to bo pre-occupied, as if already se cretly won. Then Willard came. I had known for a long timo, that he had not loved our Sophie with tho changeless lovo that hcr warm heart deserved, and to -r . l 1.1.. you l ..saw with wnat Ditterness none may know his wavering affections turn. Your noble conduct, at that sad period, endeared you still more to me. Yet I some times fancied it was your love for Sophie, and a wish to spare her feeing, more than a dislike to him that compelled you to shun his attentions. I knew, after hcr death, he would seek you as soon as decency would permit. I casually heard that it was he you had met at tho spring, about which, before I met you, Sophie had told me. I feared oh ! how I feared that he was the one I had pursuaded myself you secret ly loved. I lymrd of his visit to you, and despaired. The agony that followed, you cannot imagine. But when a few days since I saw tho, notice of his sailing for Europe, I thought that there might yet be hopes for me. And now tell me that you will como and make our desolate home glad with yout bright, presence; you know not tho sadness that seems rest ing there, since we have laid our darling down, to sleep. I have not rested, day or night since t heard that Willard sailed, but travelled straight here. Say, will yon, dear Julia, b ,mine. ' , . it ( . . , ''There could be but one answer to such aa appeal. WiA nrj hei buried on his shoulder, I murmured tluy confession of lovo, love that could nSr changed The next morning ho called, and had a private interview with Madame A , the issue of which was, that with my con sent, I was to remain with her until the end of the present term, at the expiration of which, with the approval Of my guardi an, our happiness was to be consummated. To my guardian he wrote, and in due time there came a letter, announcing Mr. Stan ton's coming; he seemed perfectly satis fied with an arrangement that would con duce so much to my happiness and world ly prosperity and one glorious morning in June, when all nature seemed redolent with brightness, I bade adieu to that loved spot. My tears could not be restrained even with so much happiness beforo me, al though with him the chosen of my heart ho whom I vowed to love and cherish Sophie's brother! for, when Madame A and my beloved teachers came to the carriage, and pressed my hand in parting, the tears would flow, and I wept on his breast unrestrained. On our tour we were passing through the lower part of the state of Virginia, and a storm overtook us, we were induced to seek shelter in a large, comfortable-look' ing cabin by the road side. A perfect shower of littlo darkies came running out, to indulge their curiosity by a peep at the strangers. Suddenly we heard the voice of their mistress shouting from the door, " you Bill, you Jim, you Joe,1 just take yourself off;" and immediately, she came out to moot uh. -1 thought,; u surely I had seen that faco before." But not till she had fallen upon me with an overwhelming embraco, did I recognise my old school mate Jemima Edson ! Sho seemed overjoyed to see me; said that she had "felt like" she should never see me again " But you see I have not forgotten you," calling up a little red-headed, tottering girl " I have named her Julia." I was truly pleased with this mark of affection from her honest heart, and rummaged my trunk for a fit offering for my little nanic sake. The storm abated, and wo were obliged to leave, or we should miss the cars that evening, though wo could scarcely get away. " Wo must stay and sec Jim," so she called her absent husband; but af ter partly promising to visit them at some future time, and telling her that sho must bring "Jim" and little Julia to sco us in our still more southern homo, we took our leave. It was a bright summer evening as we approached that well remembered spot that pleasant homo that Sophie so loved and the events of the last few months seemed so like a dream that I coul scarcely realize that she was not again by my sine, lier tamer was uireauy coming to meet us. He held me in his arms, and with tears running down his aged cheek blessed me as his daughter. Th'e happiness of the succeeding years who can describe? My life has passed without a cloud ; not a wish ungratified not a want unanticipated. Ah, reader. may you be as happy. Vineoah-Faced Gentry. Thcro a class of men in every community, says an exchange, who go about with vinegar faces because they are not appreciated as they should be, and who have a quarrel with what they call their destiny. W hate such people. Ihey are a nuisance and a pest. They make all in their in fluenco uncomfortable. These men hav usually made a grave and great mistake in the estimate of their abilities, or are unmi tigated asses. ' Whenever this fault find ing with one's condition or position occurs there is always a want of self respect. If you are a right down clever fellow wash the worm-wood off your face, and show your good deeds. Then if people 'feel above you,' why return tho compliment, and feel above them. If they turn up their noses because you are. a mechanic, or a farmer, or a ahop boy, turn up your nose a notch higher. If they swell when they pass you in the street, swell yourself. D liver us from the whining fools who go round like babies telling how people abuso them, and whininz because society wi not take them by lh eellar, and dr j them into deeeney' From the Baptist Magazine. 'SONNET. - ! ' BT TBB BEY. I. 8. rgfci, A. I. ' Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when he conieth shall find watching." Luht xii.37. The glorious mom is breaking o'er the earth ; 1 be streaks or daylight gild the eastern skv ; Creation sigheth for her second birth j J he church is travailing in agony.. Awake ! ye careless saints, who sleeping lie : The Lord Is coming, therefore watch and pray : Ho will be with you ere the dawn of day ; Dehold he Cometh I Hear Hie bridegroom a cry. Saviour, as nestlings for the parent bird v e fondly long tor thee, and would not roam Bevond thv holv wines : then hasten home. E'en now by ug thy gentle voice is heard, Behold,! quickly come!" 'tis thine own word; Our joyful hearts reply, "Lord Jesus come." GIVE HE BACK MY HUSBAND. THE APPEAL TO A ntMSELLKU. Nor many years since, a young married ouple from the far " fast-anchored isle," sought our shores with the most sanguine anticipations of prosperity and happiness. hey had begun to realize more than they had seen in the visions of hope, when in an evil hour, the husband was tempted to ' look upon the wine when it was red," and to taste of it "when it giveth its color in the cup." The charmer fast ened around its victim, all the serpent pells of its Boreery, and he fell ; and at every step of his rapid degradation from the man to the brute, and downward, a heartstring broke in the bosom of his com panion. Finally with the last spark of hope flick ering on the altar of her heart, she thread ed "her way into one of those shambles where man Is made such a thing as -the beast of the field would bellow at. She pressed her way through the bachannalian crowd who were revelling there in their own ruin. With her bosom full of that " perilous stuff that preys upon the heart," she stood before the plunderers of her hus band's destiny, and exclaimed in a tone of startling anguish : " Give me back my husband !" " There's your husband," said the man, as he pointed toward the prostrate wretch. " That my husband ! what have yon done to him ? What have you done to that no ble form, that once like a giant held his protecting shade over tho fragile vine that clung to it for support and shelter ! That my husband! With what torpid chill have you touched the sinews of that man ly form ? That my husband ! What have you done to that once noble brow, which he wore high among his fellows, as if it bore the inscription of the Godhead ? That my husband ! What have you done to that eye, " with which he was wont to look erect on Heaven," and sec in hismir ror the image of his God ! What Egyp tian drug have you poured into his veins, and turned the ambling fouutains of his heart into black and burning pitch ? Give me back my husband ! Undo your basi lisk "spells, and give me back the man that stood with me by the altar The ears of the rumsellcr, ever since the first demijohn of that burning liquid was opened upon our shores, have been salute at every stage of the trafic, with just such appeals as this. Such wives, such widows such mothers, such fatherless children, bb never mourned in Israel, at the massacre of Bethlehem, or at the burning of the Temple, cried in his ears, morning, noon and night. " Give me back my husband!' " Give me back my boy 1" Give me back my brother !" But has the rumsellcr been confounded or speechless at these appeals ? No ! not he. He could show his credentials at moment's notico, with proud defiance. He always carries in his pocket a written absolution for all he had done, and could. do in his work of destruction. He " had bought a letter of indulgence. I man 11 cense ! A precious instrument signed and sealed by an authority stronger and more respectable than the Pope's." He confoun ded? Why the whole artillery ofoivi power was ready to open in its defence and support. Thus shielded by the JEgis of the law, he had nothing to (oar from the enemies of his traffic, no had the image and superscription of Caesar on his oreden tials, and unto Csoaar he appealed, and nn- j to Ctem too, his tUtim! appealed, and appealed in rain. WANTS 0? THE AGE. "Mex WAjrrro!,,Tit"io'' Good, honest, practical men ! ' Mqn who dare to speak, and think and act upon their own responsibility ! Who can respect, without worship, the sex whose weakness is their strength, who believe women to be erea tures of principle and not passion, who know the exact amount of faith it requires to transform them into angels, and who would sooner cut their tongue out than originate or spread a libel on woman's pu rity ! Who are not vain enough to think themselves Appollos; yet sensible enough to know themselves men ; who believe on ly what they see, and take for granted only what ought to be true ; who can see honest merit though its gilding be not of gold, and true worth, though throbbing beneath the coarse woof of poverty ; in short, such men as are needed to make husbands, fa thers and brothers for the women of the nineteenth century. To such, good wa ges the wages of love and constant em ployment, the employment of affection, will readily be given. None others need apply. Womex Wanted I" ire r bo? Women to make happy homes, good hus bands and contented hearts? whose frank smiles and sunny looks make a perpetual sunshine for those about them, who have a kind word for the suffering, and a ready sympathy for the sorrowing, who have an earnest eloquence, and a gentle voice for the tempted of their own sex, and some thing more material than either fr the needy, who make their husband's interest their own, and can wear a bonnet two sum mere without a wry face, if a depleted purse makes it expedient, who look upon the bright sido of every picture, turn out the silver lining from every cloud, and point out tho spot in the stormy sky, where tho bow of promise will shortly bond, who ike the society of their own husbands bet ter than that of their neighbors, and can find time for everything expected of the sex but scandal and ill-nature ! In short, such women as are greatly needed to fill up vacancies in the home book of Ameri can beauty ! "GiRL8 Wanted." Whoso hearts would ache to know the ways and means employed by mistaken parents to make them tho artificial flowers of society which they arc, whose lips would burn beneath the hot breath of the libertine, who looks upon them as so many victims to hia own or some other devil's arts, whose bared and tempting shoulders would tingle, and strive to hide themselves away beneath the scanty dress of fashionable immodesty, when licentious eyes arc taking in their manifold charms, who would feel that to dress, and simper, and flirt, and patronize things beyond or beneath their compre hension; was the smallest portion of wo man's mission upon the earth, who would be willing to recognise the useful as well as the ornamental pursuits of life, and who, eschewing the unworthy and'ahallow-pated flatterers of society, could be won only by the good, and the noble, and the high- minded ! Such girls, as in the course of their natural lives wonld give to the Ame rican character, what it now so greatly de plores, a nationality of its own. " CniLDREN Wanted !" Boys and girls, simple, earnest and child-like, who at the age of innocence, have not learned all the wickedness and most ot the crimes of so ciety, who are not practised in all the arts and weaknesses of men and women, and who are not prepared to take at the earli est opportunity, their first degree in vice and immorality, who are not defiant to their equals, or saucy to their superiors, who do not present to the world that hid' eous deformity of an old head on young shoulders, and are willing to give their fa ther and mother credit for knowing of a trifle more than they do 1 Suoh children are scarcer than government offices, or pen nies in a poor man's pocket. - Until such a race of embryo men and women spring up in our midst, we may despair of supplying the essential wanta of the age. Uotton American Inion. ; Oat Sfankir. , Why are yaur nose and chin always at variant?. ' Because 1 wwda coatianallw pass between them. $2: P E R ANNUM, , INVARIABLY IS ADVANCE. VOLUME L NUMBER 4. .WW J6?A Gentleman from New York, who had been in Boston for the purpose of collecting some moneys due him in that city, was aboilt returning, when he found that one bill of a hundred dollars had beeu overlooked. His landlord, who knew tho debtor, thought it a doubtful case, but ad ded, that if it war! collectable at all, a tall, raw-boned Yankee, then dunning a lodger in another part of tha hall, would 'worry it out' of the man. Calling him up, therefore, he introdu ced hiin to the creditor, who showed hiw the account. 4 'Wal, Square,' said he, 'taint muoh use 0' tryin', I guess. I know that critter. You might as well try to squeeie 'He out of Bunker Hill Monument as to c'lect a debt out of him. But any how, Square, what'll you give sposin' I do try?' 'Well, sir, the bill is one hundred dol lars. I'll give you yes, I'll give yon half, if you'll collect it." Greed,' replied the collector; ther'i no harm in tryin' any way.' Some weeks after, the editor chanced to be in Boston, and walking up Treroout street, encountered his enterprising friend. 'Look o'here,' said he, 'Square. I had considerable luck with that bill 0' your' 11. You see, I stuck to him like a dog to a root, but for -the first week, or so 'twan't no use not a bit , If he was home, he was 'short ;' if he wasn't home, couldn't get no satisfaction. By and by, says I, after goin, sixteen times, 'I'll fix you!' say3 I. So I sat down on the doorstep, and sat all day and part of the evening, and I begun airly next day ; but about ten o'clok 'he 'gin in.' He paid me my half, and I gin him up the note !' A Cool IIkply. An amusing ooloquy came off recently at the supper table, ou board of one of our Eastern steamers, be tween a Boston exquisite, reeking with hair oil and Cologne, who was " deming" the waiters, and otherwise assuming very consequential airs, and a raw Jonathan, who sat by his side, dressed in homespun. Turning to his " vulgah" friend, the for mer pointed his jewelled finger, and said : " Buttah, sah!" " I see it is," coolly re plied Jonathan. "Buttah, sah, I say!" fiercely reiterated the dandy. " I know It very good a first rate article," provo kingly reiterated homespun. " BtTTAU, I tell you !" thundered the exquisite, ia still louder tones, pointing with slow, un moving finger, like scorn's, and scowling upon his neighbor as if he would anni hilate him. " Well, gosh-all-Jerusalem, what of it?" now yelled the downeaster, getting his daudriff up in turn "Yer don't think I took it lor Lard. Trans cript. Quizzinu a Vermoxtkr, The other day, while over, in Jersey city, a tall, long legged, big flat-footed, six foot Vermont er came up to us with a rush, holding in his arms a pillow case, well filled, no doubt, with home affairs and fixins, and also gnaw ing away on a larga cake of gingerbread. " Can you tell me, sir, what time the cars coinein?" " The cars, Bir ?" "Yes sir." " The cars, sir, come in right after the lo comotive." .Down went the pillow-case oh he was full of fight. JW?-A gentlemad sent a lad with a let ter to the Baltimore post office, and mon ey to pay the postage. Having returned with tho money, he said : " guess I have done the thing slick ; I tu a good many people puttin' letters .in the post offioe through a hole, and 10 I watched my chance, and got mine in for nothing." " Mr. Snowball, I want to ask you 6D question, dii ebening.", . ' " Well, succeed." . , ; ;- " Spose you go to de tavern to get your dinner, and you don't hab nuffinon de ta bid but one big beet, what wonld yon say?" " I gib dat up, what would you aay V 1 " Why, under de oiroumst&noes ob .de ease, I should say, dat beet's alL" - A lady ' looking at a review,' u fecUmL u sua woa partial to muiury training; re- plied that she liked exceedingly tW offi een sftlme.-' It.).' I .Mi bj !' 'if .' , 'it ' i "I; l.V, : II U; h j. V V 1 i