Newspaper Page Text
H. C. SHEARER, Publisher,
i COENEB VABXET AND FOUBTH. $2 P E R1N N U M INVARIABLY IB ADVAUC3S, , ' , .f Z. IIAUAN, Editor and Proprietor. elect "Salt. From Godcy's Lady's Book. THE ITALIAN SISTERS. . . BY HELEN HAMILTON. PART I. . In a small room in one of the poorer class of lodging-houses of Rome, sat a young and beautiful girl. The glowing lovelinoss of Italy was hers the warm yet brilliant complexion, the dark expressive eyes, the wealth of raven hair all were combined to render her an exquisite speci men of Roman beauty. She was clad in a rich bridal costume, and her dress of snowy satin and costly lace, ornamented with flowers and pearls, ' contrasted strangely with the aspect of tho room she occupied It was small, poorly .furnished, and its only ornaments were a few colored drawings of Italian scenery hanging hero and there up on the walls, and a large crucifix of ebony and alabaster which stood on a small table draped with colored stuff. An old guitar, with a portfolio of music, lay at the feet of the fair girl, as if she had been trying to while away the time by playing upon the instrument. She was evidently waiting for 6ome one From time to time, as the roll of a coming carriage caught her ear, she sprang up and hastened to the window, but, always disap pointed, turned away with a look of weari ness to resume her seat. At lust, after an hour's weary watch, a carriage stopped at the door, footsteps were'heard ascending the -stairs, the door was pushed open, and a young man entered tho room followed by a priest. Uttering an exclamation of joy; the fair girl flow to meet the first, who greet ed her with a smile and the words, "Well, dear JCina, have 1 made you wait longl" pronounced in Italian with a slight English accent. . ''Oh, very long, Enrico ! I was so tired, but how you are come, I am'satisfied," she replied, smiling. , . 'Does your dress please you 1" he asked, attentively surveying her. "I feared it v t was not handsoms enough." . "It is beautiful," she answered, "only too beautiful for me." Nothing can be too beautiful for the fu ture Lady Lyndon," he whispered, while a rosy blush overspread the fair features o his companion. "Hut where is Teresa ?" he added, glancing around j "is she gono 1" 'Yes, and all is secure," was the reply. "Then , come, I am impatient to call you my wife." She placed her hand in his, and he led her to tho pf iest. And now while the ceremony is proceed ing, let us cast a look at the bridegroom. , He was tall and finely formed, with deli- cateiy cut features, largo deep blue eyes, and a profusion of dark brown hair which ' wreathed itself in close curls around his head. He- waB handsomely pressed, and bore in his manners tho trace of his rank, (Lord Lyndon was heir presumptive to an earldom,) yet an expression rested upon his handsome mouth which, though difficult to describe, caused an involuntary feeling of ' dislike in those who beheld him for the first . time. . :. " The ceremony was nearly ended.whenthe ' door was suddenly thrown open, and a young girj rushed in, her features, though wan and wasted with recent illness, glowing with excitement, and her whole frame trembling with emotion. "The Holy Virgin be prais ed !" she exclaimed ; "l am not too late to save you, Nina!" "To save me !" exclaimed Nina, a flush crimsoning her cheek j "from, what 1 lam Lord'Lyndon's wife." "Ilis wife? Oh! foolish girl, did you believe him 1" asked the other. "This is an infernal snare, Nina. Look at that . man," she continued, pointing to the priest .who, pale and trembling, leaned against the wall. "He is one of the lord's servants dressed up to trick you to your destruction t That is the reason why he insisted on a se cret marriage j bat his valet, more honeBl than his master, revealed to me the whole ' plot scarce an hour ago, and I hastened to save you.", ' j".' f'Nina, 'tis false exclaimed Lord Lyn 'don, angrily. ,. "1 am his wife, Teresa j yor have been deceived," said Nina, and throwing back 1 her veil, she gazed with?a look of confiding fondness into her lover's eyes. :. "Read, deluded girl," replied Teresa, ' placing an open letter in her hand. She " glanced over a few lines, an ashy paleness ' overspread her features, and with ft moan of : unutterable anguish, she sank fainting into the arms of her sister. "My Lord, your ''evil purpose is foiled," said Teresa, calm ly. "Will it please you,1 loave mol" and t Icflib fount she pointed with a jesture of command to the door. Uttering an exclamation of rage and scorn, he rushed from the room, follow ed by the pretended priest, and the sisters were left alone. PART II. Five years have passed away since the events described in the first part of this talc, and our scene is no longer laid in the little room at Rome, but in the elegant boudoir of a titled lndy in London. The room was richly yet tastefully fur nished. The delicate tints of the carpet and the satin-covered furniture harmonized well with the silvery hue of the paper that covered the walls. A few beautiful paint ings, one an exquisite Madonna, the rest glowing Italian-landscapes, were hung with an artist's care in the best lights, and in a recess stood one perfct statue, a graceful Hebe, from the magical chisel of Canova Above the mantle-piece of Sienna marble, hung one other painting j it was concealed by a curtain of black velvet, on which the words '-La MiaSorella" were embroidered in silver thread. Seated at a marble table, which was drawn near tho centre of the room, was a young and beautiful woman. Her large, black, brilliant eyes, and heavy braids of silken hair of that rich bluish black never seen except on a native of Italy, contrast ed the dazzling whiteness of her broad and noble brow, and the soft yet rich tint of her check. Her dress of violet satin was cut so as to display the perfect contour of her ivory shoulders, which were further set off by a berthe of black lace fastened with a diamond 6tar. She was employed in looking over the contents of a small port folio, covered witli crimson velvet, with clusps and corners of gold studded with pearls, and filled with small pieces of paper, all in the same, handwriting, and bearing the same signature. A smile curved her beautiful lips, a strange smilo for a mouth so lovely ; it was cold and bitter, more pain ful to look upon than a frown. Such was the Murchesa d'Agliano, the' most beauti ful woman in London. A servant announc ed "Lord Lyndon," and closing the port folio, she rose to receive hiin, tho smile on her lip giving place to one of welcome. Five years hail made but little change in the appearancdof Lord Lyndon, except that he was still handsomer than - when he won poor Nina's heart, and his manners had ac quired udditional grace. Clasping the off ered hand of the Marchess, he pressed it to his lips before ho spoke ; then drawing a chair close to hers, he said, "Well, Beat rice, to-day the yearofmy probation is ended. It is now exactly one year since the day I first told you I loved you ; will you give me a definite answer now 1" The Murchesa listened with the same cold and caustic smile playing upon her lips, and when he paused for a reply, with out heeding his words, she said, "Lord Lyndon, I wjll tell you a little story." The lover looked surprised, but without heeding his astonished looks, she pressed the black heavy braids from his brow, and, after a moment's thought, began. Hitherto the conversation had been carried on in English, but now, she spoke in Italian with a rapidi ty of enunciation that effectually precluded every attempt at interruption. "Some years ago, my lord, there lived in Rome two orphan sisters. They were of noble birth, but poor, and the depended upon their talents for subsistence j tho el der taught drawing, and the younger music. She was very beautiful and very guileless, and tho elder watchod over her with all a mother's care, for she was the last being who claimed her love. She always accom panied her when she went to give her les sons, and guarded her with the watchful ness necessary in a land where beatty is al most a curse, but at last she full si ok, and her sister went fori alone to her daily tasks. She met, at the house of one of her pupils, a young foreigner ; ho was cap tivated by her beauty, and made her propo sals, which she spurned witlr indignation ; he then offered her his hand on condition that the marriage should be kept secret ; she loved him, and she consented. But the valet of the young man sought out the el der, told her that her sister was about to become the victim of a pretended marriage performed by a false priest, and, as a proof of his assertions, showed her a letter which his master had given him to burn, a con gratulation from some one as base as him self, on securing so easily the lovely prize He indicated to her the house where the ceremony was to be performed j sho hast ened tliith errand arrived in time to save hor sister; but her heart was broken. Wealth and rank became theirs by the death of a distant relative, but all too late. My lord, look here." " And rising from her eat, the lady drew aside the black' velvet al, QthliY to Sincricim Jntcnsfs, 3Tilcniiurf, Science, anii STEUBENVILLE, curtain, and Lord Lyndon looked once more upon the face of Nina. But how changed! The same brilliant eyes and glowing cheeks were there, but the lips that had ever greet ed his coming with smiles, wore an expres sion of deep yet patient sadness, and the very beauty of that fair face seemed like flowers strewed upon a corpse to hide by its loveliness tho ravages of death. Lord Lyndon seemed violently agitated, and seizing the arm of the JIarchesa, he ex claimed, "In pity, tell me, Beatrice, isshe dead!" She burst into a sardonic laugh. "Lis ten to this man!" sho exclaimed; "he breaks the heart of a girl who truly loved him, and then asks, 'Is she dead V Sho died in my arms scarce a year from the time you cruelly deceived her. I am her sister ; but as you never beheld my face but once, I can pardon you for not recog nizing in the Marjhcsa Beatrice, Teresa d'Agliano the sister of your victim." Ho did not seem to hear her, but stood gazing on the portrait, his lip quivering with painful emotion, "ueatnee, lie at length said in a deep troubled tone, "1 scarcely can hope you will believe my words, yet if ever remorse visited human heart mine has felt its bitterest pangs. Were Nina living, my hand and heart should he hers; but, alas! I enn give you no proofs of tho sincerity of what I say. I dare no longer hope you will listen to my suit ; I can no longer offer you my hand ; I may only plead that you will pardon the bitter wrong I have inflicted on you, and that you will believe in the truth of my repentance.' 'You can then feel remorse, contrition !' she exclaimed; 'you, the cold-hearted lib ertine; you, the murderer of my sister! Noj I cannot realize such a change." "Then I must go unpardoned," he Eaid in a low tone. Beatrice buried her face in her hand for a few moments ; when she again raised her head, the scornful expression of her, features hud given place to one of sadncssi "My lord," she said, "I believe you, and in that belief! renounce a project of vengeance treasured ever since -my sister's death. The Italian count who nightly tempted you' to tho gaming table, and to whom you lost such immense sums, was my tool, for I sought to avengo my sister by, taking from you what I believed every Englishman held dearer than life, money. .Here," she con tinued, laying her hand upon the little velvet-covered portfolio, "lies oil your wealth, and thus do I restore it to you." Sho opened the portfolio, and, taking out tho papers it contained, tore them into atoms; then, turning to Lord Lyndon, she said, "My lord, we part now forever. Fare well." 'Forever ! Oh, not forever, Beatrice !" he exclaimed. "Your generous forbear ance gave me hope ; do not crush it at once." "My lord, farewell," she repeated, ex tending her hand. He raised it to his lips, and then, with a look of passionate adora tion, repeated her last words, "Farewell," and retired As his last footstep died away, she turned towards the portrait, "la hot this the vengeance that would have glad dened thy heart, my sister 1" she murmur ed. It mayjiave been the waving of the cur tains, the flickering of the dying sunlight, but something like a smile flitted over the sad sweet face of Nina's portrait. . NAMES AND NATURE.'; Abba An angelic amaranth Addie Agreeable, accomplished. . .. Albertine Affectionate, admirable. Angelina Active, attcniive. AnnaAttractive-, attainable. r Belle Benevolent, bewitching. Clara-Cautious, categorical, courteous. Cora Cheerful, charming, coquettish. Delia Diligent, dutiful. Evelyn Enthusiastic, easily excited. ' Emelino Earnest, emulous." ' Fanny Ftunk,' faithful, friendly. Francis Fascinating, I'oiUtnate. Hattie Hoping, happy. Harriet Heart harnessing. Julia Joyful, judicious. Lizzie Loving, loquacious. Louisa Light-hearted, lovely. Mary --Mild, mysterious. Minnie Mirthful and musical; v Mattie Mighty mischivous. , ing. ,Melinda -Meditat' marrying Mr. Moor Nettie Notoriously nice", i ' Ora Overwhelmingly ornamental. , Patlie Pretty, patient, precarious. Rosa Resistless, resolute, romantic. Sarali Safe, sanguinary, sublime. Sophia Scrutinizing ecrutinizer. ' Niinrod, can you tell me who was the first maii ?" 'Yes, sir ; his name was Adam Adam somebody. His father wasn't nobody, and he never had a moth er on account of the scarcity of women, I 'sposc, and shinplaster bank-smashing.' OHIO, , WEDNESDAY, The Philosophy of Happiness. ; Life is not all sunshine, neither is it all shadow. The perpetual complainer is a ibeler of God's munificence. Not only are there sunny prospects upon which the eye may rest with pleasure, but the disturbing causes which ruffle the stream of life are very much under our own control.. It is a serious mistake to attribute to the provi dence of God the many annoyances which spring up in our path to chafe and irritate. True, calmness of various kinds, affecting our health, prosperity, and social relations, may assail us, under a divine commission ; and yet even in these marked cases, we may often trace the affliction, not to an arbitral ry decree of God, but to our own reckless disregard of the laws by which, according to the dictates of reason, we should have been governed. How often is the health inpaired and completely undermined by the imprudent indulgence of appetite! How often is fortune dissipated by an in sane avarice which tempts men to imperil what they posseps in hope of acquiring more than is needful ! And how often, too, are our social comforts interrupted and clouded by our own gross mismanagement ! Thus in sufforiug tho severest adversities, we may detect our own instrumentality in their occurrence, and see occusion for self-accusation rather than of complaint against the divine beneficence. The truth is, that we aro admirably constituted for huppincss, and the works of God by which wo are surrounded are peculiarly well fitted to promote our enjoyment ; it is by the in tervention of sin that this divine arrange ment is disturbed, and that tho very.objccts which were designed to minister to our happiness, become fruitful sources of sor row. It is important, too, to consider that the seat of happiness is the ruind, and that it depends not so much on outward appliances as on the proper regulation of the thoughts and affections. ylt is not within the power of external circumstances to' render us un happy. That effect is produced only when the mind is disordered ; when the power of endurance has been awakened, and sombre clouds, have been suffered to gather to ob scure the sunlight of heaven. In other words, he must be fcappy whose thoughts have a riht direction, and whose passions are under proper control. The evil passions of our nature are the prolific springs of pur misery. Hence it is that we often find the least enjoyment amidst all the outward ap plications of happiness. Wealth may fur nish its luxuries, health, afford the capacity for their enjoyment, and yet wounded van ity, inflamed jealousy, angry excitement, disappointed ambition, revengful and ma levolent feelings,' mny bo pre-occupy the mind and poison its springs, us to render happiness impossible. It is in these moods that multitudes abandon their homes and seek relief in foreign travel, but carrying their discontented temper with, them, the mere change of clime produces no mitiga tion. On the contrary, the mind which is Kept in repose by a confident reliance on tho beneficence of Providence, and which lias learned the divine art of contentment, which keeps every passion under control, and cultivates pure aspirations, may bid defiance to outward tumults, and amidst the storms which wreck the hopes of others may preserve - The soul's calm sunshine and tho heartfelt joy.' Phila. Presbyterian. Epigram on a Woman Hater. One of the, best epigrams ever written was conjured up a good many years ago by we don't know whom. r Quien sab'el Hero it is : As Harry was one (lay abusing the sex. As things that in courtship but studied to vex, ' ' : And in mfrriagebut sought to. enthral 'Never mind;him,' Bays Kate, 'tis a fami ly whim ; His father agreed so exactly with him. That he never would marry at all I" Lawyers, according , to , Martial,-are men 'w ha eat , their words and anger.' Their words are very costly ' although intrinsically they often resemble the dar liey's account, which 'didn't amount to any particular sum." ' . lloiace seemed to know what local ed itors daily experience. To sketch a racy item requires infinieily more wit than the world generally imagines. Horace says : 'To write on vulgsr themes is thought an easy task,' ir?fJo not utter velvet words if thou intendeat to accomplish' stony deeils.- 1 artan Proverb. : -m, The lawyer who believes il is wicked to lie, Is spending a week with the Qua ker who indulges in marine hornpinei. - NOV. 11. 1855. ' SHE CHANGED HER MIND. There are some persons who are never sick, without thinking themselves very much worse off than they really are. Of this class was Mrs. Haskins, a young married lady, and the mother of two fine boys. On one occasion, being visited by a fever, the consequence of imprudent ex posure, she gave herself op to the melan choly fancies which usually assailed her and persuaded herself that she was going to die. In consequence of this melancholy presentiment, she assumed sowoe-begone an appearance that even her medical at tendant was startled into believing that she was much worse than from her symp toms he had judged her to be. Under these circumstances he advised her to make what earthly preparations she had yet to make, while she had yet time to do 'so. Mrs. Haskins was an affectionate moth er, and the thought of parting from the children to whom she was so warmly at inched, at a time when, more than any other, they needed a mother's care, was peculiarly distressing. .'Their father will be kind to them, no doubt, and see that they are amply pro vided for, but nothing he can do will supply to them the loss of a mother." - Gradually the idea of a step mother suggested itself to tho lady's imagination, and such was her care for .the happiness of her children that she became rcconcil ed to an idea so repugnant to most wives, and actually began to consider who, among her acquaintances, was best fitted to be cornea second Mrs. Haskins. . At length her choice fell upon a Miss Parker, an intimate friend of her own. Feeling anxious to havo this matter set tied, she dispatched a messenger post haste for Miss Parker, who after a biief interval made her appearance at her friends bedside. ' , 'My dear friend said Mrs. Haskins, in a feeble voice, ' have sent for you for what perhaps you will consider a singu lar reason. But, believe me, it is a moth er's anxiety that prompts me. I am very sick and cannot live Ions;. So the doctor tells me, ttnd my own feelings tell me, that it must he so, The situation in which I shall leave my poor boys, who will thus be deprived of a moiher's watch ful care, distresses me beyond measure. There is only one way in which my an xiety can be relieved, and this it is which has prompted mo lo send for you. Prom ise me when I am gone you will, marry Mr Haskins; and be to them a second mother. Do you tcfuse me ; it is my last request?' Desirous of comforting her friend, Miss Parker assented to her request, adding: ' .'I will comply with your request, and more willingly, fo I always liked Mr Haskins.' - .. Always liked Mr Haskins!" exclaim ed his dying wife, raising herself on her elbow, her feeling of conjugal jealousy for a moment overpowering maternal aff ection. 'you always liked my husband did you ? Then, I vow you shall never mar ry him if I have to live to prevent it.' , And Mr. Haskins did live. The re vulsion of feeling resulting from Miss Parker's unexpected declaration accom" plished in her case what the skill of phys icians hud been unable to effect. ' There is an old saying, which, like most old sayings, has in it not a little truth ; that when a woman wills, she will, depend on't, and when she won't, she Wonl't, and there's an end on it. So it was in the case of Mrs. Haskins. She was determined that if Mr. Haskins ever does have a second Kite, it shall not be Miss Parker. i :. : ' ' r Power. I honor the passion for pow er and rule as little in the people as in a king. It is a vicious principle, exist where it may. If by democracy is meant the exercise of sovereignty by the people under all those provisions and self impos ed restraints which tend much to secure equal laws, and the rights of each and all, then I shall be proud to bear -its name. But the unfettered multitude is not dear er to ma than the unfettered king. Chan- (Dtncnil Intelligence A GOOD STOEY. A LITTLE TOO PUNCTUAL. The hour was approaching for the de parture of the New JIaven steamboat from her berth at New York, and the usu al crowd of passengers, and friends of pas sengers, newsboys, fiuit venders, cabmen and dock loafers, were assembled on and about the boat. We were gazing at the motley group, from the foot of the prom enade deck stairs, when ouratteniion was attracted by the singular action of a tall, brown Yankee, in an immense wool hat, chocolate colored-coat and pantaloons, and a fancy vest. He stood near the star board paddle box, and scrutinized sharp- y every female who came on board, and now and then consulted an enormous sil ver bull's eye watch, which he raised from the depths of a capacious fob, by means of a powerful sled chain. After mounting guard in .this manner, he dash ed furiously down the gang plank and u p the plank and up the wharf, re-appearing on board almost instantaneously, with a flushed face, expressing the most intense anxiety. This series of operations he performed several times, after which he rushed jibnut the boat, wildly and hope lessly, ejaculated : What's the time of day ? Wonder if my repeater's fast? Whar's thecap'n? W liar's the steward ? Whar's the mate? Whar's the boss that owns the ship?' 'What's the matter, sir V we ventured to ask him, when he stood for a moment. I 'Han't seen nothin' of a gal in a blue sun bonnet, with a white Canton crape shawl, (cost fifteen dollars,) pink gown, and brown boots, hey ? come on board while I was looking for the cap'n at the pint end of the ship have ye ? hey V No such person has come aboard.' Tormented lightning ! she's my wife!' he screamed ; married her yesterday. All her trunks and mine are aboard, un der a pile of baggage as tall as a Connect icut steeple. The darn'd black nigger says, he can't hand it out, and I won't leave my baggage, anyhow. My wife only think on it was to have come a board at half-past four, and here it's most five. What's become of her? she can't have eloped. We hain't been married long enough for that. You don't think she's been abducted, do ye, mister? Speak ! answer? won't ye? 0! I'm ra" vin' distracted! What are you ringing, that hell for ! Is the ship afire ?' It is the signal for departure the first bell. The second will be rung in four minutes.' .Thunder 'you don't say so ? Whar's the cap.n ?' 'That gentleman in the blue coat.' The Yankee darted to "the captain's side. Cap'n, stop the ship for ten minutes won't ye ?' 'I can't doit, sir.' But you must, I tell you. I'll pay you for it. How much will je tax ?' ' ! could not do it.' Cap'n, I'll give you lew dollars gasp ed tho Yankee. The captain shook hia head. 'I'll give you five dollars and a half and a half ! and a half I' he kept repeat ing, dancing about in his agony, like a mad jackass on a hot iron plate. The boat starts at five, precisely said the captain, shortly, and then turned a- way. '0, you stunny hearted hcathin !' mur mured the Yankee, a'.moSl bursting into tears. 'Partin' man and wife, and we just one day married.' At this moment the huge paddle wheels began to paw the water, and the walking beam descended heavily, shaking the huge fabric to her centre. All who were not going to New Haven, went ashore.- The hands began to haul in the gang planks ; the fasts are already cast loose. Legco that plank ! roared the Yaa kee, collaring one of the hands. Drop it, like a hot potatoe, or IT heave ye into the dock.' ' ' Yu vo l shouted the men in chorus, as they heaved on the gangway, Shut up, you braying donkeys! yel ed the maddened Yankee, or there'll be an ugly epot of work.' But t,he plank was got aboard, and the VOLUME I. NUMBER 45. boat splashed past the pier. , In an instant the Yankee pulled off hia coat, flung his hat beside it on the deck. and ruehed wildly to the guard. - Are you drunk or erazy 1' cried a pa senger seizing him. I'm ffoin' to fling myself into the dock and swim ashore 1' cried the Yankee.- I niusi'nt leave Sairy Ann alone in New York city. You may divide the baggage among ye. Let go me I I cart swim He strugglied so furiously that the eon sequences of hia rashness might have been fatal, had not a sudden apparition chang ed his purpose. A very pretty young woman, in a blue bonnet, white Canton crape shawl, pink dress and brown boot came towards him. ' The big brown Yankee uttered one stentorian shout of 'Sairy Ann I' clasped hel in his arms, in spite of her struggling, and kissed her heartily, right before all the passengprs. Where did you come from he inqui red. From the ladie's cabin answered the bride. 'You told me half-past four, but I thought I'd make sure and come at four.' A little too punctual !' said the Yan kee. 'But it's all right now. Halloo,' cap'n, you can go ahead now, I don't care about stopping. Come near losing the passage money and the baggage come nigh getting drowned, Sairy, all along of you but it's all right now. Go- ahead, steamboat t Ilosin up, there, fire men ! Darn the expense V When the sun set, the loving couple were seen seated on the upper deck, the big, brown Yankee's arm encircling the waist of the young woman in the blue bonnet and pink dress. We believe they reached their destiny safe and sound. A Golden Thought We know not the author of the follow ing, but it is one of the most beautiful pro ductions that we have ever read; ; Nature will be reported. - All things are engaged in writing their own history. The planet and the pebble goes attended by its shadow, The rolling rock leaves its scratches on the mountain side", the river its channels in the soil ; the animal. its bones in the stratum ;the fern and leaf. their modest epitaph in the coal. ;. The falling drop makes its sepulchre in the sand or stone ; not a fooispace into mow or along the ground, but prints in eharae- ters more or less lasting, a map of its march; every act of man inscribes ' itself on the memories of its fellows, and in his own face. Tho air is full of sound the sky of tokens : the ground is all merupr and the signatures, and every object is covered over with hints that speak to the intelligent.' Is it so, Somebody we don't know who and it makes no difference, thus warns young men to beware of women ; Young man keep your eye peeled when yon are alter women I Is the pretty dress or form attractive' t Or a pretty face, even? Flounces, boy, are of no consequence. A pretty face will grow old. Paint will wear off. The sweet smile of the flirt will give way to the scowl of the termagant. The neat form will be pitched into calico. Another and far different being will take the place of the lovely goddess who smiles so sweet and eats your candy. Keep your eye peeled, boy, when you are after the wom en. If the little dear is cross and scolds at her mother in the back room, yon may be sure that you will get particular fits around the house. If she apologizes for washing the dishes, you will need a girl to fan her. ' If she blushes when found at the wash tub, be sure she is of the eod fish aristocracy, little breeding and little sense. If yon marry a girl who knows nothing but to commit, woman . slaughter on the piano, you have he poorest piece of music ever got up.'. , ; The oddest husbandry we know is when a man in clover marries a "woman in weeds. ' " ". ' " " ' " The toothache may be cured by holding in the hand a certain root the root of the aching tooth. ' ; , A fire company is about to be organi zed in Tinicum, manned entirely by worn-, en. Won't tho boy run after that ma chine! v :.':'.' -''-.