Newspaper Page Text
.'.V W.v. ,l ,-.
Ml 0' !..' I . .' y. ,50 PER ANNUM ; S I jjG" L 35; C 0 P I ; E; S Ti ! i - U" PAID IN ADVANCE, . li i i i i ii i i l ii t i Bnf l i i i , i i i i n ir ' . - - I ' ' - - Mi 'i , . i u-i i . - ' i .. i i i .. . ,i i i - vr; r Z. RAGAN, Editor and Proprietor. POETICAL. BY HSNBT W. LONamLOW. I see the liglits in the village . " Gleam through the evening mist, And i feeling of sadnes&comes o'er me, , T hat my soul canuottesist. A feeling of sadness and longing, i That is not akin to pain. And resembles sorrow only ' As the mist resembles rain. Come, read to me some poem, " Some simple and heartfelt lay , ' That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the .thought of day. Not from the grand old roasters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo, ; Through the corridors of time. - For like strains of maitial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor ; And to-night I long for rest. . Read from some humbler poet Whose songs gush from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, . Or tears from the eyelids start ; - Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the tmuic ' Of wonderful melodies. ' -..1 i' i' ., ''. Such songs have power to quiot ; The restless pulse of care. And come like benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume ' The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. . , And the night shall be filled with music And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, . And as silently steal away. INTERESTING TALE. - ' The Insurance Company. S ' 1 ' TO PROMOTE MARRIAGE. A rich capitalist of Paris, whom I shal name M. Lebrun, was' famed for his en ' lerprisinp- and speculative disposition. ' Not a new project was sent on foot, but be was. applied to for his patronage and protection, and in general whatever he engaged in was crowned with success. Not long since he was one morning seated 'in his study at his country house, when a cabriolet drove up to the door; from 'it 'descended a young man . of fashionable appearance And fine open countenance not unknown to the frequenters of Tor toni's. He demanded to speak with the tnastet: of the house, and was introduced at once to M. Lebrun. His host was in slippers and robe de cliambre, for he loved to live as indolent as he could when not 'immersed in the whirlpool of business at Fans. ; Yon Will excuse me, Monsieur," said the young man,. quietly taking possession pf an arm chair, ."you will excuse me for troubling your retirement by speaking to you or matters of speculation; but the affair in, question is of a grave importance "and most pressing nature; jt'may have consequences so morally beneficial to 'society, and so exhorbitantly lucrative to its projectors, that I feel fully convin ced of your forgiveness for speaking to you respecting it." , "Speak on, Alonsi'eur : I am all atten ,tion," said the capitalist, crossing his legs anq.nqrawing his dressing gown, closely abQut h,imv,,' ' .'; . . ..'" , jfWfcp could have ever supposed,", said the stranger, with great solemnity, "that in quitting an age of doubt and incertitude like the last, we should enter a period so remarkable for its fixededness and ter tairiiy' ast the present. In he eighteenth (ientury f every, thing .wasojr'er-lurned, beoaijse' the world doubled pf every things ?n the nineteenth no doubt, exists p.ecause ' nothing is, left to chance. It is by means pi insurance that aooiety is now reorgan izing itseit. ,, what is there that is not now insured I Nay, it has lately been whispered that Messrs. Rothschild think aer ously of forminir a oomDanv for insu ring Kings qn ipeir mrones, ana 'or fixing jrinisters of .state in possession of their port ie.". In fact, insuranoe is the a, real instrument by Which will be brought iVout that advanced state of humanity, so fruitlessly sought for by Fourrier, St. Siraoo. 8ndr " , ; t... . - - 'But what ia this meaning of this long preamble!", interrupted the master of the mansion, in a dry, metallic voice. , "Ypu are aware, I presume that require some thing,, positive actualr-palpable, laying a Stress ion ,eaoh expression. i Prjc! nites all these qualities," eaid the ftranger. " . ; vWell, then let ua . have it withput farther preliroirmies.,, said the other. vyhe fact a," said the projector, "that the matter is of so delicate a nature that I am obliged to prepjjre you for piy pro pas,al.!'', . ' : . . ; 't think I can ' guess that it relates to an insoranoa company. : What is it you propose to insure, MonsiourT'r- ' & Slcelilii foutral, "Since I must-, speak positively, my plan is to insure marriageable girls, against the great evil of their existence against being old maids." "Hum-ra-m, ruminated the man of wealth, again fixing round him his robe de chambre, which the slight irritation of the moment had displaced. . "The idea is ingenius. "You perceive that natural desire, which must arise in every lady's bosom to avoid celibacy, will incline her to insure, and the profits must be enormous." Yes that is ciear enough ; but how will you manage the rate of insurance?" "lhat must be gratuated, according to the beauty, fortune and talents of each. The chancps of old maidhood cannot be the same for all, nor do I propose to insure all for the same age ;'one may be fixed at twenty, another at twenty -five, and a third even so late as lliirtv-five. But after the expiration of the time agreed on, if the lady remains without a husband, the indemnity must be paid, and this will constitute a fortune, which in many cases will obtain or her the partner she desi res." , . r . "Bat wi'J the company reserve to itself the power of acting in any way it may deem advisable, to procure husbands for the insgreu before Vie term fixed on." "Most assuredly: the company of course cannot renounce any means of bringing aboit its object but must employ all which may seem advantageous : in fact, the indemnity will scarcely ever be required to be paid, and, that is the rea son why the speculation is so splendid," "Yes, I seo that (here must arise some gains." - "ImmenFe profits and not a single oss," interrupted the advocate of the new insu rance company, seeing that his host was balancing towards the project. "If an insurance is effected against death, noth ing can hinder persons from dying ; if it is made against fire, how can you prevent bouoes from burning I if you insure against the perils of water, how can ahip wrecks be put a stop toi cut insuring against remaining single; nil you have to do is to marry off as quickly as possible your customers. "I suppose that the company will take care to have always at its disposal a num ber of gentlemanly bachelors, of good character and education, physicians, sur geons, literary men, barristers, merchants and scientific men, whom it may employ lo gain the hearts oi those who are to be married." . , ' "That is an indispensible condition of success, and I intend taking on myself the care of that particular duty. "Well, then, I am your man. Let the matter rest between us two no noise no puffiingnothing butseciecy, activity and cleverness. Get the bond partner ship prepared, and get the act constituting the society duly passed turougn the proper forms. I am willing to advance eight hundred thousands francs, which will be amply sufficient for the capital. You on the other hand will throw into the stock your zeal and activity, and the profits shall be divided. I act generous ly, as you may perceive. ; The young man took his leave exceed' ingly satisfied with his visit, and spring ing into his cabriolet, returned to Paris In a few days he brought the necessary papers, and the matter was speedily ar ranged. After M. Lebrun had signed and re turned them to the joung speculator, he addressed him thus: . ,. - . ''Monsieur, , you, are now. director oi the new company, and I need scarcely say mat x wish you success. io prove to you. however, that I really have deeply at heart the success of our speculation, I in tend to commence the business myself by insuring my daughter. She shall be first in the list of voung ladies to obtain a hus hand. Fill up the blank of the printed lorm. 1 -' 'Age!" demanded the director, "Seventeen." i "Name and sir name?" ( "Euphemia Lebrun." .Fa-e?" . ; ,n I;.,.. "Decidedly pretty". Talents I" "Musicdancing, horticulture," -"Fortune?" ' . . "All that 1 posses when 1 die,- and eight hundred thousand francs on the day of her marriage." "That will do, Monsieur." . . , "You may fix the rale yourself, and the age at which the indemnity shall be paid," saia tue utner proualy, as ne tbougnc o ins unarms oi cis oniy uaugnier. , , " There is every reason to hope that Mademoiselle Euphemia will have no claims on us for indemnity," said (he young partner as lie collected his papers ana departed. ... , : . . As he passed through the , pleasure grounds which surrounded the villa, in order to reach his Cabriolet, Which he di rected to wait for him at the gate of the park,' he preoeived a young and lovely gir) in the midst of the . flowers on which she was lavishing her oarea. .Unaware that any one was sear, she was singing jjp drift to $iiurirait ntfnsts, fifcratoc, iticncf, anlj STEUBENyiLLE, OHIO, WEDNESDAY, a little air which C. Damorean had made fashionable, as she tied up the flowers or watered tbem where the heat had parched them up..' The young director paused a moment to admire the slight but rounded figure, and the glowing color and beau tiful bair of the younar person. "This undoubtedly," thought he, "is the daugh ter of M. Lebrun. I have commenced fortunately. No danger of so fair a crea ture being obliged to demand her indem nity. . He CHSt another glance at the lady, and proceeded towards the gate. A tonnight had scarcely passed when M. Lebrun returned to his houe in the Chausee d'Autin. It was his daughter who leased him into quilting the country. He was astonished that his dear Euphemia should so suddenly abandon, in the midst of the summer season, her flowers, which she loved so well. lie naturally sought for some reason for such a change, ' and more than once said to himself. "Is it possible that sh can by some chance or other have formed an attachment with some person at Paris?" At last he could no loncer doubt that he had conjectured rigliily, for her gaiety was fled, her music, drawing, flowers, were all neglected, and a tear sometimes betrayed her secret. But who could have inspired this passion? What opportunity was there for a gallant to press his suit ? lie was determined to discovery the mystery. "My dear Eu phemia;' said he, "you have become wonderfully serious. On what can your thoughts be always occupied? What new sentiment has taken possession of your mind ? Speak to me frankly ; you know how dearly I love you ; can you have eeen some person who has captiva ted your rffections? If it is a proper match, you cannot doubt that I shall be only too glad lo unite you lo him who will render you happy." "Well, then, father, I acknowledge I do love," said Euphemia, with that ti midity and hesitation which a young girl cannot free herself from even when con fessing the slate of her affections to her own father. "And who is he ?" said M. Lobrun. "That is his secret as much as mine," replied the daughter with great tranquil, ity, cannot speak of it without hie con sent, bp I will ask him, when I see him, to declare bis name." This reserve-only excited the curiosity of M. Lebrun. He pressed his daughter more and more to name her lover. At Instslie said, "Give me only ihreo days, and I will then' conceal nothing from you." Tho next day the young director of the new insurance company to promote mar riage, camo to pay a visit to his partner. "Oh my dear fellow," said M. Lebrun, when be saw him, "you can't guess" i "Guess what?" 'That my daughter is already inspired by the tender passion." "Oh," said the director, "that must be the effect of the insurance." "A wonderful effect it is, at all evenls. Why a month has not elapsed since - the insurance took place. By Jove ! you are fortunate, If we have only another such piece of good fortune, the fame of the company will be in every persons mouth." They were conversing in this manner, when Euphemia entered the room. She blushed on seeing the stranger, "My daughter," said M. Lebrun to the young man "What do you think of hei ?". . "one is admirable! I can venture to predict. she will not j ass another year without-" , . ! "Father,'' said the young girl, regard ing the two- speakers, vv "I promised to inform you of the person whom 1 love. This is he!" . ,V . "Good Heavens 1 is it possible," cried the astonished capitalist. : - - "According to our regulations," said the diieotor very gravely, "I was bound to seek means not to allow the specified 1 1 m a lA-SMiau Mi I It mi 1 "True, true. But, Euphemia, how did you get acquainted with Monsieur?", "I saw him in the country one day in going out. He used to come afterward evry day. . He helped me to cultivate my flowers. We walked out in the park, and at last 1 found his. visits too short I thought that by coming to Paris I should Bee' him more frequently, and for a longer, time," "In showing my real for the interests of the society," continued the speculator, "1 considered "Come-, me, my young friend" said the surpiised father, "you are a clever fellow. Stunned as I have been, I must acknowledge that the matter has aomelhig ainusme in it. "I protest to you, I considered that I faithfully performed my duty." : : "No use of talking of it now. You already have the eight' hundred thousand francs fortune j' - 1 ' ' "Quite correct, said the young man, taking Euphemia by the hand with the air of a marfry to his duty. "Th's is a glorioui beginning. "We shall have Biich custom from this affair. We must abso lutely gain millions 1" A LIFE PICTURE,.;- The Dying Miser. BY GEORGE LIPPARD. They brought him a dollar. He took it and clutched it in his long skinny fingers, tried its sound against the bed post, and then g;ized at it long and intensely. with his dull, leaden eye. That dny in the hurry of business, Death bad struck him, even in the street. He was hurrying to collect the last month's rent, and was on the verge of the miserable court, where his tenants herded together like beasts in their kennel ; he was there with ,his hand b )ok in his hand, when death laid his hand npon him. ' He was carried home to his splendid mansion. He was laid upon a bed with a satin coverlet. The lawyer, the relations and the preauher were sent for. All day long ue lay without speech, moving only his right hand, as though in the act of counting out money. At midnight he spoke. He asked lor a dollar, and they brought one to him, and, lean and gaunt, he sat up in Ins bed and clutched it with the grip of death. A . shaded lamp stood on the table near tne silken bed. Its light fell faintly around the splendid room, where chairs, and carpets, and mirrors, silken bed and lofty ceiling, all said Gold I as plain as lips can say it. His hair and eyebrows were white, his cheeks sunken, his lips thin and surround ed by wrinkles that indicate the pattern of Avarice, As he sat up in bed with his neck bared, and the silken coverlet wrapped around his lean frame, his white hair and eyes contrasted with his wasted and wrinkled face, he looked like a chost, And his life was centred there, in the dollar, which be gripped in his clenched fist. His wife, a pleasant faced, matronly woman, was seated at the foot of the bed. His eon, a young man of twenty-one, dressed in the last .touch of fashion, sat by the lawyer. The lawyer sat by the table, pen in hand and gold spectacles on his nose. There was a hucre parch ment spread before him. " Do yru think he'll make a will ?" asked the son. " Hardly compos mentis yet," was the whispered reply. Wait, he'll be lucid after a while." ''My dear," said the wife, ''had I not better send for the preacher ?" She rose and took her dying husband by the hand, but he did not mind. His eyes were upon the dollar, He was a lich man. lie owned palaces in Walnut and Chestnut streets, and hovels and courts in the outskirts. He had iron mines in this State ; copper mines on the lake somewhere , he had gulden interests in California. His name was bright on the records of twenty banks; he owned stock of all kinds ; he had a half a dozen papers in his pay. He knew but one crime to be in debt without the power to pay. ' He knew but one virtue lo get money. The crime be had never forgotten in the long way of thirty-five years. , To hunt down a debtor, to distress a tenant, and to turn- a few additional thousands by a sharp speculation ; these were the main achievments of his life. He was a good man; Lis name was upon the silver plate on the pew door of a velvet cushioned ohurch. He was a benevolent man ; for every thousand which he wrung from the tenants of his courts, or from the debtors who writhed beneath his heels, he gave ten dollars tp.some benevolent institution. " He was a just man; the gallows and the jail always found him a faithful and unswerving advooate. He now is a dying man ; see him as he Bits upon the bed of death, with the dollar in his clenched hand. ' . 0 ! holy dollar, object of his life long pursuit, what comfort hast thou for him now, in Lis pain of death ? . , At length the dying man revived and dictated his will. It was strange lo see the mother and son and lawyer muttering and sometimes wrangling, beside the death bed. All the while the testator clutched the dollar in his hand. While the will was being made the preacher came ; even he who had held the pastoral charge of the great church, whose pew doors bore the saintly names on silver plates, and whose seals on Sabbath day groaned under the weight of respectability broadcloth and satin. lie came and said bis prayers most decorously and in measured words, but never once did the dying ram relax his hold on (he dollar, "Can't von see that I'm going?" at length said the dying man, turning a irigntened look toward the preacher. 1 The preacher, , whose cravat was the whitest took a book with a golden clasp irom the marble table. And he read : . 1 . , "And I say unto you, is easier for camel to pass through the eye of a. needle MARCH 17, 1858, : than for a rich man lo enter the kingdom of God." - " Who said these words who, who ? fairly shrieked the dying man, shaking the hand which clenched the dollar at the preacher's head. ...... The preacher. hastily turned over the eaf and did not reply. "Why did you never tell me of this before ? Why did yon never preach from it as I sat in your church? Why why?" The preacher did not reply, but turned over another leaf. But the dying man would not be quieted.' " And it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, is it ? Then what's to become. of me I Ami not rich 1 . What tenant did I ever spare? What debtor did I ever release ? And you stood up Sunday after Sunday and preached to us and never said one word about the camel." The preacher in search of a consoling passage, turned rapidly over the leaves, and in his confusion came to this passage which he read ; . " Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that hall come upon you. Your gold and silver is cankered, and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eal your flesh as it were fire ; you heaped treasure together for the last days. Behold the hire of your laborers, who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth, and the cries of thrjn, who have reaped have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabanth. ' And you never preached that to me !" shrieked the dying man. The preacher who had blundered thro' this passage from James, which we have quoted, knew not what to say. . He was, perchance terrified by the dying look of his parishioner. Then the wife drew near and strove to comfort him, and the son (who bad been reading the will) attempted a word or two ot consolation. And with the dollar in his hand he sank into death, talking of death, of stock, of rent, of copper mines and camels, of tenant and ol debtor, until the breath left his lips. ' Thus he died. When he was cold, the preacher rose and asked the lawyer whether the decea sed had left anything to such and such charitable Bociety, which had been en grafted upon the preacher's church. And his wife closed his eyes and tried to wrench the dollar from his hand, but in vain. He clutched it as though it were the only saviour to light him thro' the darkness of eternity. And. the son sat down with dry eyes, and thought of the hundreds of thousands that were now his own. . Next day, there was a hearse followed by a train of carriage? nearly a mile long. There was a crowd around an open grave and an elegant sermon upon the virtues of the deceased, by a preacher. 1 here was a fluttering of crape badges, and n rolling of carriages, and no tears. They left the dead man and relumed lo the palace, where sorrow died even as Die crape was taken from (he door knob. And in the grave the dead band still clenched the dollar. , Personal Appearance of our Saviour. Of the personal appearance of the Re deemer of mankind, people, generally, have but the most vague conceptions, such as have their origin in the numerous painted portraits passing as likenesses of that divine personage, who "spake as man never spake." He is thus described by Centulus, a luler in Judea, in a letter addressed by him to the Senate of Rome, during the reign of Tiberius Caesar : " Conscript Fathers There appeared in those our days, a man- ol great virtue, named Jesus Christ, who is yet living amongst, and of the Gentiles is accepted for a prophet of the truth, but his own disciples call him the Son of God. He raiseth the dead and cureth all manner of diseases. A man of stature somewhat tall and comely, and in proportions of his body well shaped, and bis hands and arms delectable to behold, with a very reverend countenance, such as the behol der may love and hear. His hair is of the color of the filbert fully ripe, to his ears, whence downward it is more orient s . oi colur, somewhat curling or waving aboul his shoulders. In the midst of his head is a seam or partition of hair after the manner of the Nazarites. His forehead is plain and delicate. His cheeks without spot or wrinkle, beautiful with a comely red ; his nose and mouth exactly lormed. His beard is thick, of the color of bis hair; not of any great length, but forked. His look is innocent and mature. His eyes grey, clear and quick. In reproving he is awful ; in admonishing ; courteous and friendly; in speaking very temperate, modest and wise. It cannot ' be remem bered that any have -seen him laugh, but many have seen bim weep. A being for his singular beauty surpassing the children or men. . : - - -' - 3TBe content with your lot. inwral n(tlligcncf. X SELECT MISCELLANY. How People Lived Only a Generation "Ago.; . . Mr; Goodrich (Peter Parley) in his "Recollections of & Lifetime," thus de picts the life of his youth in New Eng land: "Money was scarce, wages bring about fifty cents a day, though these were generally paid in meat, vegetables, and other articles of use seldom in money. There was not a factory of any kind in the place. There was a butcher, but he only went from house lo house to slatigh ter the cattle and swine of his neighbors. There was a tanner, but he only dressed other people's skins; there was a clothier, but he generally fulled and dressed other people's cloth. Even dyeing blue a portion of the wool, so as to make linsey woolsey foi short gowns, aprons, and blue mixed stocking vital necessities in thoee days was a domestio operation. During the autumn, a dye tub in the chimney corner thus placed so as to be cherished by the genial heat was as familiar in all the thrifty houses, as the Bible or the back log. It was covered with a board and a cosy seat in the wide mouthed fire pi ce, especially of a chili evening. Our bread was of rye, tinged with Indian meal. ", Wheat bread was reserved for the sacrament and eompany. All the vegetables came from our frm. The fuel was sup- Elied by our own woods sweet scented ickory, snapping chestnut, oderiferous oak and reeking fizzling ash. Sugar was partially supplied by our maple trees. Ihese were tapped in March, tue sap being collected apd boiled down in the woods This was wholly a domestic operation, and fine in which all the chil dren rejoiced. Rum was large ly consumed, but our distilleries bad scarcely begun. A half pint of it was given as a matter of course, to every day laborers, more particularly in the summer season. In all families, rich and poor it was offered to male visitors as an essen tial point of hospitality, or even good manners. Women 1 beg n,ardon ladies look meir sennapps, men named "nop. kins' Elixir which was the most delicious and seductive means of getting tiosev that has been invented. Crying babies were silenced with hot toddy, then es teemed an infallible remedy for wind on. the stomach. Every man imbibed his morning dram, and this was esteemed temperance. There is a story of a preach er about those days, who thus lectured his parish : "I say nothing, my beloved brethren, against taking a little bilters before breakfast, and after breakfast espe cially if you are used to it. What I con tend against is the dramming, dramming, dramming, at all hours of the day." We raised our own flax, rotted it, hackled dressed it, and spun iu The little wheel turned by the foot, had its place, and was as familiar as if it had been one of the family. . The wool was also spun in the family, partially by my sis ters, and partially by Molly Gregory, daughter of our neighbor, the town car penter. In those days, church singing was one of the fine arts the only one, indeed, which flourished in Sidgefield. except the music of the drum and fife Ibe choir was divided into four parts, ranged on three sides of the meeting house gallery. . Twice a year, that is in the boring and Autumn, the tailor came to the house and fabricated the semi-annual stock of clothes for the male members this being called whipping the cat. Mantua-makers and milliners came in their turn, lo fit out the female mem bers of the family. There was a similar process as to boots and shoes. . . "At the period of my earliest recollec tion men of all classes were dressed in long broad tailed coats, with huge pockets, long waistcoats and breeches. . Hats had low crowns, with broad rims some so wide as to be supported at the sides with cords-. The stockings of the parson,' and a few others, were of silk in Summer and worsted in Winter; those of the people were generally of wool, and of blue and gray mixed. Women dressed in wide bonnets sometimes of straw and some times of silk; the gowns were of silk, muslin, gingham, etc., generally close and short-waisted, the breast and shoul ders being covered by a full muslin ker chief. Girls ornamented themselves with a large white Vandyke. . Tavern haunting, especially in Winter, wben there was little to do was common, even with respectable farmers. Marriages were celebrated in the evening, at the house of the bride, with a general gath ering of the neighborhood, and usually wound off by dancing.' Everybody went as to a public exhibition, without invita tion. Funerals generally drew large pro cessions, which proceeded to the grave. Here the minister always made an address suited to the occasion. If there was any thing remarkable in the history of the deceased, it was turned to religious ac count in the next Sunday's sermon. Singing meetings to practise church music, were a great resort for .the young in Winter. Balls at the taverns VOL. 4 NO. II. ma were frequented by the young J.'the chil dren of deacons and ministers attended, though the parents did not. The Winter brought sleighing, skating, apd the usual round of in-door sport." , ; Western Eloquence. : ! ' ; Gentlemen .of the Jury." . said ' s Western lawyer, . it ia with' feelings of no ordinary commotion that I rise to defend my injured client from the attacks which Lave been made upon bis heretofore unapproachable character. I feel, gentle men, that though a great deal smarter than any of you, even the Judge himself, vet I am utterly incompetent lo present this case in lhat magnanimous and heart rending light which its importance de mands ; and I trust, gentlemen, that what ever I lack in presenting the 'subject will be immediately made up by your good sense and deacernment, if you have got any- . . .... . " The counsel for tho prosecution, gentlemen, will undoubtedly heave dust in your eyes. ' He will tell you his client is pre-eminently a man of function that he is a man of undoubted and implacable veracity lhat he would scorn to fetch an action against another, merely to gratify his own corporosity ; but, gentlemen, let me caution you how to rely npon ' such spacious reasoning as this. 1, myself. apprehend that this suit has been wilfully ana maliciously loch?, gentlemen, for the sole and only purpose of brow beating my client here, and in an eminent .manner grinding the face of the poor ; and I also apprehend, if you cpuld but look into, that man's heart, and read there the. motives that impelled him to fotch this suit, such a picture of moral turpentine and heartfelt gratitude would be brought to light as have never belore been exhibited since ibe Falls of Niagara. " Now, gentlemen, I want lo make a brilliant appeal to the kind simmetries of your nature, and see if I can't warp yonr judgment a little in favor of my unfortu nate client here, and then I shall fotch my argument to a close. ' i , . , " Here, gentlemen, is a poor man with ' numerous wife and child, depending upon him for their daily bread and butter, wantonly focht up here and arranged before au intellectual jury on the charge of ignominiously hooking yes, hooking Bix quarts oi new- ciuer. x ou, gentlemen, have been placed in the same situation, and I humbly calculate that you will not permit the gushings of your sympathising hearts to be squencbed in the bud by the surruptious and superarogal ing arguments of my ignorant opponent on the other side. ' ' The law expressly declares, gentlemen. jn the beauiful words of Shakespeare, that wnere no aouot exists of the guilt of the prisoner, it is your duty to lean npon the side of justice and fotch him in innocent. If you keep this fact in view in the case of my client, gentlemen, you will have the honor of making a friond of him and all his relations, and you can alters look upon this occasion and reflect with pleas ure that you did as you would have been done by : but if, on the other hand, you disregard this great principle of law, and set at naught my eloquent remarks; and fptoh bim in guilty, the silent twitches of conscience will follow you over every fair cornfield, I reckon, and my injured and down trodden client will be pretty apt to light upon you some of these nights, as my cat lights on a saiserof new milk." ; .' ..'. ..,'...''' Pride. Everybody who knowe Major Jones, is aware that he carries a precious sight more modesty of peculiar sort un der his hat than money ia his port-moauaio. . A short Ume since a highwayman un dertook to rob Major Jones. He, met Jones in a pieoe of woods over in Jersey He asked Jones for his pocket , book.- Jones refused to yield. Highwayman then took Jones by the neok, and under took to "choke him down.". Jones made fight and kept it np for half an hour. At the expiration of that lime Jones tared, and the highwayman commenced rifling his pockets. The contents were eighteen Cents.. . ;j , ,!.! ;'..'! "Is that all you've got!" . ... v r; . "Every darned oent." , ; r r; 'What made you fight so long." s Didn't want to be exposed. Bad enough lo have only eighteen cents, but a great deal worse to hart the world know The highwayman 'was so pleased with Jone's pride that he made him a nresent of a nip of "red wash it down." eye," and a cracker to 3TA lady neighbor and acquaintance the doting mother of a waggish lad having; bottled a lot of preserves, labelled them j put up by Mrs. D "(her name.) Johnnie, her promising boytby having discovered the "goodies," soon ate tip the contents of the bottle, and. then wrote bn the bottom of theiabel, "Put down by Johnnie D-." 7 . V ; , , An old bachelor, on teeing the words "families supplied over the door of an oyster saloon, stepped in, and eaid li would take 1 wife and two children..-