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Z; RAGAN, Editor and Proprietor. '. .. ' r7 "" 1 r 1 i mm . ., l.r . . .1 The Escape-Valve. BY EDITH WOODLET. ,You don't know, Lizzy, how good it seems to be home ag'in, and settin' in my own chimbley corner. It 'pears to me as if I'd been gone an age," . . '.You have been absent a Ion; time, : ' aunt." -; . , " ....r.. . . "Arter all, as the old provard says.home is home, though ever so homely." "I hope that nothing happened, while you were gone, to prevent you from en joying yourself." 'La, no, indeed ! I've had as good a visit as ever was. Wherever I went, the ft . louts were glad to see me, and I was glad to see them. But I tell ye I al'ays bore one thing in mind, and that was not to wear my welcome out. If I seed the people were oncomon busy where I went, I timed my visit accordingly. Sometimes 1 didn't even take my bonnet off. The lasf pairson I went to see was Lois Hart. Youve heerd me tell of Lois V' "Oh yea, often!". f'She's a cousin of mine, and about my age, and fothe matter of a dozen years has kept Josh Dawberry's house, i had some misgivin's a bout goin', for every, body told me that Josh was one of the crustiest old bachelors that ever breathiJ the breath of life. But, come to consider on it, I kne iv that Lois would be dreadfully hurt if I left the place 'thout jest givin' her a call, so I made up my mind to go. Arter I was there, I tell you 'twas no easy mailer to git away. . Lois was detarmined that I should stay and take a cup of tea with, he. She'd been bakin. she said ; and, besides a loaf of riz bread, light as a cork, she'd plenty of sarcer-cakes, equal to any pound-cake that was ever made, to say noming ot custards and cramber ry taits. And that wa'n't all, she said. She had some persarved squinches, that jest the sight of 'em would make a pair son's mouth water. But you know, Liz ry, that, when I go to see a"ri'nd, 'tisn't for the sake of da'nties ; and so I telled her the plain truth that I felt a leetle shy; of Mr. Dawberry bad heered he was subject to fits ot ill humor, and, line not would tnink my room better n my company." "La, no he won't!' says she. 'Josh isn t the worst critter in the world, I wouldn't have you think. . To be sure. he's a leetle mite waspish sometimes, but, sence I contrived the 'scape-valve for him, in a gin'ral way, I get along as smooth as can be with him.' "A scape-valve ' says I. "What kind of a critter is that!' "Lois smiled, and p'inted to the furder corner ot the room. , '."You don't mean that black cat. with white' feot,' savs I, 'that's been settin' fl t . m tun, as ii sne was watchio a mouse, ever sence I've been here V "'Sartain,' says she; 'That's the very critter. ' - . uDu tell!" says f. And with that I jumped up," detarmined I would s'arcb into the mystery. 'If this don't beat all!' ays I; for. when I come to look, I found 'twa'n't a IivenV cat, on'y a stuffed one. 'It's all a riddle to me,' says I; 'and, if you've no partic'Iar objection, I should be raly glad to have you tell me the meanin' .... eii, ... i ve notning ag'inst your Koowtn about it . says she; . 'though I shouldn't .like to have the people round iere know, 'cause, if they did, they'd be eartain to tell Josh; and then there 'd be an end to all the benefit to be had . from my scape-valve, that's done me sich an abundance of sarvice.' ; rShe. then ..went on to say that when she : first jwent to keep house for Josh She had-a cat that used to belong to her sister Nancy, afore she went out West. Nancy sot a dreadful eight by her,. and charged Lois to take good keer of her. She. promised she would , and she kept her word pa-far as she was consarned; utyou see she couldn't pervent Josh 'from barbecuin' her. If ho was in an ill tumor, whenever he happened to come erost ' her, he was ssrtain to take her on the 4oe of his boot, and send her the whole length of the room. But it is said. to be an ill wind that blows nobody any good, .and Lois soon found out that, whenever he bad a chance to vent his spleen on the cat. he.sildom or never found fault with '.4 . ... "At first, ehe thought she might-be mistaken, and so hid the cat away when eed Josh a eominV But she soon got tired of that, for, if anything in the course of tusiness had chanced to rifle him, she -found that his ill .humor, if the cat was only in the wayi seemed, as ftwere, to ooze out at he toe "of his boot, jest as some people's courage is paid to ooze out 'at the epos of their fingers. . . -u "Not harin' the common method to flee V lie did nothin' but scold, and fret, and find fault with every individiwal thing she aU or did. Some days," when she felt a leeile uervous, and he kept scoldmV land complainin', , and sayinV there wa'n't a Imonthful of anything on the table - that was t t o eat, she laid her head felt ai i . $ Hulilg found, twas spinnin' round jest like a top. So she put on her cousiderin' cap, ana thot, and tho't, for she didn't like to have the cat abused, or be abused herself. 'Jest at this juncture, si old Deacon Drew need to say, she had a chance to give puss away, where she knowed she'd be well treated; and, what was full as for tinate, by some means or other she didn't tell me how see got the stuffed cat I've been tellin' you about. "'Well,' says I. ''lis strange he never found out the trick you sarved him.' "'La!' says she, 'when he's in sich a bluster, he don't know a single artom what he's about, more'n a pigeon that's shot in the head.' ' "Jest as she said this, who should come in but Fanny Blight, a gal so Lois told me arterwards Josh look quite a fancy to. He wa'n't to blame, nother, for she was a right-down purty gtal; there was no sich thing as dispulin' thatp'int. She wa'n't a bit proud and starched up, if she was handsome was free and sociable as could be ; and, while Lois was gittin' sup per, we chatted away, as if we'd al'ays been acquainted with each other. "When everything was about ready, Lois went and took the 'scape-valve, as she called it, and, arter she'd put it on a cricket that had a cushion to it, sot it in sick a perspicorous place that a pairson.on enterin the room, couldn't very well help seem' it. She winked at me, and says she, 'There's no knowin' whether 'twill be needed or not; but then, you know, 'tis best, as the savin' is, to be on the Bure side of the hedge.' '.'Fanny Bright looked kind o' surprised but asked no questions. 'Twa'n't long arter this afore we heerd Josh a cumin'. He opened the door of the room where we were all of a sudding; and it swung back so fur as to hide me ; and somehow Fanny, who sot some ways off, wss purty much ouj of sight, behind one of the winder-curlings, so that he didn't obeatve that anybody was there. Well, the first we knew, the stuffed oat, stool, and all was landed ag'inst t'other Bide of the room. But that wa'n't the worst of it. You see that, while Lois was puttin' some of the other things in place, so as to make room for if on the table, she sot the dish of -equinch sass op to s lettle, three-legged light-stand, which, onfortinately.was right in the range of the 'scape-valve, i Well, of course, when it hit ag'intt the light-stand, it tipped it over; but where do you s'pose, Lizzy, the dish of persarves landed t" "On the floor, did't they t" . "No; right into Fanny Bright's lap j and what was strange, ifhnded right side up, so 88 not to splash her gownd sca'ce a mite. On'y a few lettle spatters went on to it. Well, it didn't 'pear to disturb her an artom. She took the dish into her hand, and riz up jest as calm as a clock, and sober as a detcon, and then made a low curchey. 'I'm greatly obleeged to ye, Mr. Dawberry,' says she. 'I'm amazin' fond of persarves, and this kind is my fa vorite ; but I'm afeared you've gi'n me more'n my sheer.' "I raly wish you could'ave seed Josh when he first diskivered Fanny Bright was there, and found out that the dish of squinch sass had slid off of the light-stand into her lap. He was the shamedest lookin' critter that ever was. If he'd been ketcht stealin' a sheep, he couldn't have looked more so. Old Tray, when he gits a scoldin' and skulks away into some sly corner, can't hold a candle to him.' He turned red as a blaze of fire,and, arter a while, stammered out: Tm sure, Miss Fanny," I'd no thought that is I'd not tne leasieat notion in the world, Miss Bright no kind of idee that you were here.' ' '-. V'Oli 1' says she, jest as cool as a cow cumber, and lookin as meek as a larab 'twas alia mistake, then! You didn't mean to give me the persarves !' 'Sartainly 'twas,' says he. "Not that I shouldn't be willin to give you a whole cart load, as td that. ' But there's no need of my tellin' yoa so. You know, and have known, ever sence last 'election time, that, accordin' to my idee of womankind, there isn't a single female pairson among the fair sect that's more'n equal to you.' '"I don't mean to call in question your ginerosily, Mr. Dawberry,' says she, though I must refuse to accept it ; for, if yoa should use as little ceremony in presentin' me with a csrt-load of squinoh sass, or any other sass as sy6o did in givin' me this dishful, I mightn't come off as wen as i nave now.! 'c "Didn't I tell you 'twas a mistake ?' says he. " 'I don't think you ought to lay It up ag'inst me. ' : ., r v '"Oh, I sha'n't !' says she.' ' ' ' ; ".'Then,' says he, ,! sya'n't" despair of seem you semn- at tne head or tbis table, as mistress of the house, afore long.' , : Achat's a p'int that may beconsidercd ruther-doubtful, says she,-.''specially, if you contlner to wear spring-sole boots.' "'f pring-sole boots 1' says he. 'I nev er wore a pair in mv ' life. What 'made you think! wore emt! m U ;."'.' 'v; MVWhy, when I 'obsarved that, one of your feet flew np, 10 all pf i mdding, , I - m. i . 1 i STEUBEM'ILLE, OHIO, 'WEDNESDAY, When vou stenned into lha mnm Tt seemed to me it must have been caused by some hidden spring, 'thont you're so onfortinate as to be afflicted with St. Vitus's dance.'. : 'His face was red afore ; now it turned purple. .. I sha'n't stand this,' says he. 'I ain't goin' to be made fun of under the ruff of my own house.' ., .., "For my part, when it.come to this, I begun to be seairt, and so, I guess, did Lois. . . "Come, come, Josh ' says she, 'seein' 'twas you that begun the fun, it's nothin' more'n reasonable that Fanny should have her sheer, pertic-larly; when she come so nighhavin' her gownd plashed all over with the squinch sass.' "'Seein' that Lois had made sich a good openin', I thought I'd lend a hand, and throw a leetle mite of ile on the troubled walers, as 'twere ; for, arter my cousin had exarted every narvts to git Bich a nice supper, I thought 'twas a lin and a shame to git into sick a wrangle as to spile our appetites. So I riz, and come for'ard. 'Mr. Dawberry,' says I, I think jest as cousin Lois does. When you thro wed that 'ere cat scross the room in jest fori take it for granted you were in jeBt you of course had no idee of the accident that was goin' to follor ; but, sence it did Toiler, you ought to expect that this young lady would joke you a lettle mite about it. If you take her in airnest, as a nat'ral consequence she'll take you in airnest, and then, like's not, you'll be at sword's p'ints ever so long. There's no sich thine; as calc'latin'. when 'twill come to an eend. Now, take my word for't, Mr. Dawberry, 'twill be dreadful oncoinfortable for, you to have feelin's riled up every time you and she happen to meet. . "Well, if you'll b'lieve me, he cooled right down in a minute. 'I raly b'lieve you're right, marm,' says he; 'and, if Miss Fanny will agree to let the matter drop, 1 will.' . '"I told you some time ago,' says Fan ny, 'that I shouldn't lay it up ag'inst yon.' 'So we all sot sot down to the table, and everything went on as calm and pleasant as a summer's mornin. For all that, if Fanny Bright ever consents to be Josh Dawberry's wife, I shall lose my The Morning after the Battle of Lex ington. When day came, it came in all the beauty of an early spring. ' The trees were budding ; the grass growing rankly a lull month before the season ; the blue bird and the robin gladdened the genial time, and calling forth the beams of the sun, which on that morning shone with the warmth of summer ; but distress and horror gathered over the inhabitants of the peaceful town. There, on the irreen, lay in death the grey haired and the young ; tne grassy held was red " with the inno cent blood of their brethren slain," cry ing unto God for vengeance from the ground. ,. s Seven of the men of Lexington were killed and nine wounded a quarter part of those who stood in arms on the green. These are the village heroes, who were more than of noble blood, proving by their spirit that they were of a race divine. They give their lives in testimony to the rights of mankind, bequeathing to their country an assurance of success in the mighty struggle which they began. Their names are had in grateful remembrance, and the expanding millions of their conn trymen renew and multiply their praise, from generation to generation. They fulfilled their duty not from the accidental impulse of the moment; their action was the slowly ripened fruit of providence and of lime. ;4 '': The light that led them on was combi ned of rays from the whole history of the race : from the traditions of the Hebrews in the grey of the world's morning ; from the heroes and sages of lepublican Greece and Rome ; from the example of Him who laid down his life on . the cross for the life of humanity ; from the religious creed which proclaimed the divine pres ence in man, and on this truth as in a lifeboat floatod the liberties of nations over tho dark flood of the middle ages'; from the customs of Germans, transmit ted out of their forests to the Councils of Saxon England; from the burning faith and courage of Martin Luther ; from trust in the inevitable. Universality; of God's spvereignty, as taught by Paul of Tarsus and Augustine, through Calvin; and the divines of New England from tho aven ging fierceness of the Puritans, who dash ed the mitre on the ruins of the throne ; from the bold dissent' and creative self assersion from, the earliest emigrants to Massachusetts t from the statesmen who made and the philosophers who expound ded the revolution of England ; from the liberal spirit and analysing inquisitiveness cf Ito 6ighwiru' ceulury ; from the cloud of witnesses of all the ages to the reality and the rightfulness of human freedom. All the eenturiei bowed themselves from the recesses of eternity, to cheer in their .1 . ... sacriflce the lowly men who proved them selves worthy of their forerunners, - Bnd whose children rise np and call, them blessed. ' - Heedless of his own danger, Samuel Adams, with the voice of a prophet ex claimed, Oh, what a glorious mornintr is this I" for he saw that his country's independence ,was rapidly hastening on, and like Columbus in tho tempest, anew that the storm did but bear him the more swiftly toward the undiscovered world. A Dispute between Men of Honor. The pleasant, satirical "Pickwick pa pers" furnishes the following amusing description of a . dispute between two young gentlemen of honor, which seems to have been conducted with much pfrt7 on both sides. . The bellicerants vented their feelin of contempt for some lime in a variety of irownings anu sneenngs, until at last, the scorbutic youth felt it necessary to come to a more explicit understanding on the matter, when the following clear under standing took place: - " Sawyer," said the scorbutic youth in a loud voky. Wei!, Noddy," replied Mr. Bob Sawyer. i- . '' I should be veryN sorry, Sawyer," said Mr. Noddy, " to create any unplea santness at my friend's table, and much less 'at yours, Sawyer very; but I must lane mis opportunity or informing Mr. Gunter that he is no gentleman." " And I should be very sorry, Sawyer, to create any disturbance in th6 street in which you reside," said Gunfer, " but I'm afraid I shall be under the necessity of alarming the neiehbors bv throwing the penon who has just spoken, out of the window." " What do you mean by that," enqui red Noddy. .;;.' . ." What I say," replied Gunter. "1 should like to see you do it, sir," said Mr. Noddy. . . . .. , ." You shall fed me do it in about a half a minute, sir," replied Mr. Gunter. " I request that you'll favor me with your card, sir T" said Mr. Noddy. ' " I'll do nothing of the kind, sir," re plied Mr. Gunter. " Why not, sir T"inquired Mr. Noddy. " Because you'll stick it ud over vour chimney-piece, and delude your visitors into the false belief that a gentleman has been to see you, sir," replied Gunter, " A friend of mine shall wait on yon in the morning," said Mr. Noddy. " Sir, I'm very much obliged to you for the caution, and I'll leave particular directions with the servants to lock up the spoons," replied Mr. Gunter. , At this point the remainder of the guests interposed, and remonstrated with both parties on the impropriety of their conduct, on which Mr. Noddy begged to state that his father was quite as respect able as Mr. Gunter's father and that his father's son wss as good a man as Mr. Guntef, any day in the week. As this announcement seemed the pre lude to a commencement of the dispute, there was another interference on the part of the company ; and a vast quantity of talking and clamoring ensued, in the course of which Mr. Noddy gradually allowed his feelings to overpower him, and professed that he had ever entertained a devoted personal attachment toward Mr. Gunter. To this Mr. Gunter replied, that, upon the whole, he rather preferied Mr. .Noddy to his own mother. On hearing which admission, Mr, Noddy magnanimously rose from his seat, and proffered hia hand to Mr. Gunter. Mr. Gunter grasped it with affecting fervor ; and everybody said that the dispute had been conducted in a manner which was highly honorable to both parties. Falsi Fbibnds. In the order of youth ful confidence, with habits unformed and principles swayed by the slightest Influ ence.the heart is easily taken captive. The citadel of the affections Is surrendered to a foe who utters the password. friendship Craving the interests of social life; longing for some kindred spirit with , whom to asso ciate after the toils of the days, many an unhappy youth is led astray. Attracted by the social and apparently generous qualities of some companion, they bestow upon him their friendship and their confidence. But ere they are aware of it,' insidious poison Is infused into their moral nature, and they discover themselves plundered of their character, with all their aspirations blight ed. - "The companion of fools shall be de stroyed." Instead of shrinking back at the first Impure word, they have drown closer to the centre of the contaminating circle, and have only too late found outtheir danger; ' ,; ' :-: ' ' ?-r r ' Contentment. Is that animal better, that hath two or three mountains to graze oh, than a little bee that feeds, on dew or manna, and lives upon , what falls every morning from the storehouses of heaven, clou Ja and Providence I Can man quench his thirst better out of a river than a full urn t or drink better from a foun Uiu Vuioli is finely paved with marble than when it wells over the green turf t J . One ol the most unwelcome truths is to show np wickedness in high places.' ' - August 18, 1858. Algernon the Merchant. BY T. 8. ARTHUR. The day closed, and Algernon the mer. chant, turned thoughtfully from hia count ing room, and took. hia way homeward. Almost without intermission, since morn ing, had he been absorbed in his money schemes, gathering in golden sheaves of wealth iroin thb harvest fields of trade. " Am I happier for all this !" he said questioning with himself; " does the lar ger increase add to my pleasure T Do bouBes and lands bring peace of mind, or ships upon the ocean a tranquil spirit T Rather do not all these things multiply our cares ? Is my sleep , sounder than it was twenty years ego, or my heart lighter I" Away back into the past went his thot's as the last sentence was uttered, and he remembered the time when, with the clo sing of day, he could dismiss the -day's business, and find a pure delight in the humble home where wife and children welcomed his return with gladnes?. Now, his magnificent dwelling was as little en joyed as a prisoner's cell, for his heart and affections were not there, but winged their way, with his thoughts afar off, to distant seas or strange lands, or hovering about amid brilliant schemes golden with the promise of untold wealth. Algernon sighed as he contrasted days gone by, with the present, and his heart acknowledged that he was happier then than now. The merchant was in a soft er mood than usual, and it was well for the half Blarving woman, whose white face looked into his imploringly, that it was so. She had thrown herself, almost desperately in his way, iusl as he turned from the crowded thoroughfare into a less irequented street, not far from his luxuri ous home, and with this appeal If you have children, sir, pity mine." " What of your children !" asked the merchant as he stood still, and looked in to the woman's pale pleading face, down upoa which the rays of a gas lamp fell, and showed its lines of sorrow and suffer ing. ." They are hungry, and I have no food for them ; they are sick and I can't get them medicine." " Is this true !" said the merchant half in doubt. Such extremity seemed al most impossible to him.. "Come and see ; 0, sir, come and see!" Hope, doubt, anguish, all blended in that mother's voice. ... Where is your home," asked Alger non. , ' Only in the next street" was replied. ' I will go with you. Lead the way." Hurrying on before with lapid feet went the eager woman : following with a quicker movement than usual, came the merchant They were soon at an old pile of buildings, sot far from the place of meeting. The woman entered, and Algernon followed. The sight that met nis eyes stirred all the man within him, and awakened his utmost pity. ' A sick child with hollow cheeks, waxen face. and large glistening eyes, lay upon an old quilt on the floor t another wan-lookinir child sat crouching in the chimney corner, trying to warm her half naked body, bv the almost imperceptible heat of the dy ing coals; whilita third, not over six years of age, stood on -the other side of the fireplace mumbling at a bone from which it was impossible to extract nutri tion. : : 1 ,;, ,; ,. : . v " It is even so 1" said the merchant, as he glanced in painful surprise about the room; Then be gave the woman money, . and told her to go quickly for food to nourish her children, and fuel to warm them. Nor did humanity end its good work nere. He went to a store in the neighboihood, and purchased beds and bed clothing for the destitute family, and saw these comforts conveyed to the room they, occupied, and the children af ter being warmed and fed, laid in them, with their faces full of wonder and glad ness. - ;-. ':; :(,.. In a single half hour Algernon, the merchant, changed the dreary home of the poor widow into what to her and her chil dren, was now a paradise of comfort. l here was a glowintr fire upon the hearth. making the air rosy with light and genal with warmth. Added to a few broken chairs and an old- table, which made the only furniture of the apartment, were two plain bedsteads, with beds and warm clothing spread Over them, eivin? their promise of rest and comfort in the long cold nights, flour, meal. meat, bread sufficient to supply the little family for Weeks, were piled up io one corner, and the mother held tightly crumpled in her band a slip of paper, containing an order lor fuel enough, to last the winter thro . . " luy, he who pities the widow and the fatherless be better to you than this. even a thousand fold," said the Woman, as Algernon ' was leaving. ' Her eye were lull ot tests, nut -'tne heart's warm glow of thankfulness was on her face and in W voice. ' " And may the' memory of this good deed go With you as a hies sting through lif,, ' !? c ' - ' ' , . ' An hour later, and the meroHiat sat alone in one of the luxurious apartments of his palace home. A book lay on the table beside him, and his hand rested on an open page. He had been reading, and this sentiment had arrested his attention, and given hia thoughts a new direction We only possess what we have bestow ed." At first the strangely soundinir ap othegm struck him as a paradox. ' " Possess only ' what we have bestow ed!" said he talking to himself. " How can I possess what I have given to anoth er t The thing is absurd. And yet this writer is not in the habit of ottering ab surd Ihingi, What does he mean t" Algernon turned to the book aerain and read on. - Only what we enjoy do we really possess." ; He lifted his eyes from the page again, and mused on this other proposition. " there is truth somewhere here a newer and higher truth than my thought has yet apprehended." Algernon talked on again with himself. ' I have acqui red great possessions are they enjoyed f Ami happier now than when my wealth could be told in half the figures it now takes to record the sum t I have lands, houses, ships, gold, merchandise -do I really possess them I that is, in this sense of enjoyment I Do they not in fact weigh heavier upon my spirit with each new accumulation, making posses sion nut a mockery r" from ships and merchandise, houses and lands, the thoughts of Algernon turn ed to the widow and her children, releiv ed from suffering under the sudden acti vity of an impulse of benevolence. - Instantly a glow of pleasure warmed his heart, and a thrill of delight went trembling to the very centre of his beinar. Thirty dollars had this good deed cost nim in money; ana, already he was in possession of hiVher eniovments there. from than all hia day's large accumula tions had given. " This I possess !" he said with rising enthu-iasm. 11 This I have for all time, and for all eternity, a source of perrennial pleasure. . mom cannot corrupt it. fire cannot burn it, thieves cannot break thro' and steal it away. I can lay me down in tne grave, and yet not lose my hold upon it. Is not this possession in its sublimes! senset" , . ; , , . Then the thoughts of Algernon went back upon his life, turning the pages of I J r r. wemury, anu searcning lor e gooa deeds ne naa done, lhey were " few and far between," but around each was a halo that illuminated the whole page. Side by side with the good deeds, were recor ded the gains of the merchant ; but al ways some other memory shadowed these records of gain, and robbed them of bles ing. " These these." said the merchant. as hia thoughts returned to the present, " are my only real possessions, and yet how few they are how poor I am ! Algernon, the rich merchant, has made small accumulations, indeed ! Bat thanks to the Moralist, he has found the way to another El Dorado. A coRsiifo Trick. Dr. Wallcott. th celebrated Peter Pindar, was an eccentric character and had a great many queer no tions of his own. A good story is told by one of his cotemporaries of the manner in which he once tricked his publieher. The latter, wishing to buy the copyright of hia worKs.offered him by letter a life annuity . 1 r.tnt ,tl 3.. . .. ... . oi jjw. i ne aocior, learning mat toe pub lisher was very anxious to buy, demanded 800. In reply, the latter appointed a day on which he would call on the doctor and talk the matter over. On the dav assigned the doctor received him in entire dishabille, . - iL. ' t . . even w mo nigmcap, ana naving agravatea the sickly look of a naturally cadaverous face, by purposely abstaining from the use of a razor for some days, be had all tho appearance ot a candidate for quick con sumption; Added to this, the crafty au thor assumed a hollow and most seDUlchral cough, such as would excite the pity of j . 1 n. n . . I own m anerio omcer. ana would make a rich man's heir crazy With joy, ' The pub Usher, however, refused to give mora than 200, till suddenly the doctor broke out into a violent fit of coughing, which pro duced an offer of 250. The doctor peremp torily refused, and "was seized almost In stantly with another even mat friirhtful anu ionger proiractea attack, that nearly suffocated him when the publisher, think ing it impossible that such a man could live long, raised his offer, and closed with him at 800. The old rogue lived some twenty-fi ve or thirty years aRerwards Ibiteraiy recorder. ..- i , ; . j Tobacco in GatAT Britaih. It would appear from a recent report of Commis sioners of the inland revenue of Great Britain and Ireland, that the adulteration of tobacco, prompted by the high duty lev ied on that article, Is carried to a great extent especially in Ireland sugar, alum, tar.molasaei. chicory leaves, dried rhffb&rb leaves, liquors, oil and lampblack, (the two last oeing usoa as coloring materials, being extensively used for that purpose. Snuff Is found to be mixed with sand, salt, orris root, ferruginous earths, chalk colored with peroxyde of iron, roasted oat meal, fustio and the promate of potash. , The capacity of tobacco to absorb watar is a quality of which the adulterators largoly avail themselves, i ;; ,r,u-g VOL. 4-i0. 33. ; From the Cincinnati Gazette. , Temple of Honor and Temperance. - , Messks. Ebitors. The Society above , named was never more prosperous than at the present The meotings of. the Grand Temples this year have shown a' life and energy that astonished many of its most active members. Tho attend-: ance was never but once before, as larger as at the last session of the Supremo Council, which met this month. - The reports from ten States were' "the order ' is looking up ; the determination is fixed to work for the spread of the Order," In this State we have never been in a more healthy condition than at present.' Some Temples have had as high as eighty four net increase in the past year Sev eral new i empies nave been instituted, and others waiting to be organized. ,, We , have determined to assume an active po sition in the temperance 'cause in this State. We have two Grand Lecturers' appointed to travel, and leeture oh the principles of the Order, snd organize new Temples, and we are happy to say their labors are crowned with success. . I firmly believe tho Temple of Honor is' yet to be the great leading temperance organization. - t ; r I have labored in all the old temperance organizations, and am yet a member of the two that have been most popular and numerous, and know that there is a deetv seated prejudice in the minds of a large portion of the community, against them, as reformatory societies; and they will, laugh at you if you talk of reorganizing either of them. I have found thia obiecV tion nrged by all trie leading men I have'. talked with, in fifteen counties.' I have not found this prejudice against us, but nave oeen told m thirty different placet, "Four order-it Just teliat wt want fitU. no use for us to try the Sons, or the Good Templars, it wiU be money thrown awayt they have had thtxr dayt oun reliable men will not touch either, of, them." Our pledge is life-lasting. , Our, ceremonies make a deeper impression on .i j i . r. j. we minu, ana nave an attraction that no other temperance organization can boast of. Our fraternity is eaual to an v of the) "old and ancient orders," in helping and pi oteeting a wotthy brother, or his family. You will hare to "travel"r before you find our degrees (six in number) excelled in beauty of thought, or the forcible man-, ner in which the truth is presented to tho mind. It is not merely a temperance, society; it labors to educate the mind.' cultivate the heart, and beautify the char acmr. . .. ,., , It proclaims an uncompromising war ' with intemperance, profane swearings' gambling and fraudulent dealing. It has been thought that the millennium was upon us, because Christians could com ex. together to pray, while in this order," many of the best men in the different Churches have been for years laboring together like brotheis to benefit our fallen race. At our Grand Temple in Ohio? eight different branches of the Church of Christ wss represented by men in official stations, all working together for God and humanity. . You ask, "What has it all amounted to!" I will tell you a little that has been done i In" eight Temple we have, within the last years, picked up fifty-seven men that were common drunk ards, that are now worthy members of the Church of Christ. In those eight Tem pies I can point you to one hundred and three husbands that were drunkards, that are now sober, industrious men, besides . many others that would,, ere this, have been eots. Is not this a work wbrthy of the Christian and philanthropist t , Cat) a uibu luui venerea ia ina vorisuan reiig ion place a price on one rescued front the grasp of intemperance. ' v , - i ; Reader, do you love God and jour' fellow-man! . Will you help us in our labor of love lor. our race! Aro, there not TllAepl in Vnn inmmnnii. t- -- j f - nuu ., there are ruined, husbands debased, sons destroyed, and society demoralised! win " , ih you noi open a retreat from the tie stroyer -a tlace of . safety, where the ;, kind hearted and benevolent can labor for ma wean, ids vicunn oi appetite i a Society that has beauties and charms, , one that will possess elements of stability in. a word, a Temple of Honor and Temperance one that will not break, down by its own weight, the financial arrangements of whioh will hold it togeth er, and furnish you with the sinews of warr - ;; . ; If any one wishes for further informa- ' lion, and will address me at Monroe, Buder county, Ohio, Twill cheerfully "P'y. . . . . A..W.TIB2IT3. P. 8. We would rexpeetfully ask all Editors friendly to the Temporance caw-?, to give this an insertion in their pnper. 1 .! ; . v ... ' A, V I. . A man greatly in debt, on his drr.'.h said to his friends : I on!y r::h to lv:z L'.l I !iad pan! liy uVuiS.' iiiS llieii.'iss commended the motive of las prayer, t the siok man in a low tons proof c-' lr Aad if Heaven would grant nse tt;a vor, I know my life would ta yrry indeed.' , f .-.-r ' . .,t- .,- .