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The star of the north. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1849-1866, January 09, 1851, Image 1

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THE STAR OF THE NORTH
K. W. Weaver Proprietor.]
VOLUME 2.
THE STAB OP THE NORTH
Is published every Thursday Morning, by
R. W, WEAVER.
OFFICE—Up stairs in the New BrickbuiUling
on the south side of Main street, third
square below Market.
Terms Two Dollars per annum, if paid
Within si* months from the timo of subscri
bine • two dollars and fifty cents if not paid
wit Sin the year. No subscription received
for a less period than six months: no discon
tinuance permitted until all arrearages are
paid, unless at the option of the editors.
Advertisements not exceeding one square,
■will be inserted three times for one doller, and
twenty-five cents for each additional insertion !
A liberal discount will be made to those who ad
vertise by the year.
"THE* ALL BELONG TO ME."
BY Ell** MK>.
Them are riches without measure
Soattered thickly o'er the land,
There are heaps and heaps of treasure,
Bright, beautiful, and grand ;
There are forests, there are mountains,
There are meadows, there are rills,
Forming everlasting fountains
In the bosoms of the hills,
There are birds and there are flowers,
The fairest things that be
And these great and joyous doweia,
0, "they all belong to mo !"
There are golden acres bending
In the light of harvest rays,
Thereat garland branches blending
WitfrH breath of June's sweet days ;
There wßastur' grasses blowing
In iltlPlwy moorland shade,
There arfltherds of cattle lowing
In theSjttkt of bloom and blade ;
gitloTouiot fnl'. aiiirfree, ,
Tlioro are aldrns by the rivcr > ~
And "they m! belong to mo.
1 in sacks,
Nor who has power to beckon
The woodman with his axe;
I care not who holds teases
* Of the anplandorllie dell,
Nor who may count the fleeces
When the flocks are fit to sell.
While there's beauty none can barter
By the grgpnsward and fire "ree,
The heslh-bells as they'tread.
And ye, who count in money
The value these may be, —
Your hives but held my honey.
For "they all belong to me."
Ye mnnol shut the tree in,
Ye cannot hido the hills,
Ye cannot wall the sea in,
Ve cannot choke the rills;
The corn will only nestle
In the broad arms of the sky.
The clover crop must wrestle
Willi the common wind, or dip.
And While these stores of treasure
Are spread where 1 may see,
By Clod s high, bounteous pleasure,
•'They all belong to mo."
Wliat care I far the profit
The Ftrickpn stem may yield ?
1 have the shadow of it.
Whi.le upright in the field.
What reck 1 of the riches
The mill-stream gathers fast
While 1 bask in Shady niches
What teck I who has title
To the widest lands that be ?
They are mine without requital,—
God gave them ail to BID. j
0 privilege and blessing.
To find 1 ever own
What groat ones, in possessing,
Imagine theirs alone !
O glory to the Maker
Who gave such boon to hold,
Who made me free partaker
Where others buy with gold!
For while the woods and mountains
Stand up where I can see,—
While God unlocks the fountains,—
'They all belong to me!"
.....
Sionor Bmtz in Market— Blitz was in!
the market place, last week, inquiring for
those little delicacies, the lady apple, with
whioh he so well understands how to please
the children at his exhibitions.
Cn passing the stall of a rstg plain farmer
his attctilion was attracted by a rather sickly
looking, six-weeks' pig, and he enquired the
price.
•'One dollar," was the answer.
"Tii too much," said Blitz.
"So it is," joined the gruater
"What >s that I" said the startled seller.
"The pig,"says Blitz.
"Yes it's me," echoed piggy
"We are told that Satan entered the swin
ish herd," said the now evidently alarmed
seller, "but this speaking out is too much
for belief— but I certainly heard it."
"So did I," says the pig.
The seller was evidently more excited and
desirous to soil it. "Take it at 75 cents,"
said he.
"Did it die .'" said Blitz, inspecting it
more closely.
Alarmed lest another answer from the
pig might expose and confound him, the
exasperated seller suddenly seized it by the
snout, jerked it from the shambles, and
thrusting at it Blitz, said—
"There, there, take it at thine own price.'
Blitz, however, not being in the pork way,
arfts off iu a twinkling; and the last lie saw
at (he affrighted seller, he was standing e.
v tec j ) piggy tightly gripped by the snout at
arm'* length ,' - •
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA"COUNTY? PA., THURSDAY. JANUARY 9, 1851.
)From Eliza Cook's Journal.
THE TWO nKOTUERS,
OR PEACE AND GOOD NEIGHBORHOOD.
The visiter to the banks of the Wye must
doubtless have remarked the high hill, up
on which rises the village of Sellack. The
path leading to it from the neighborhood <
meadows, is as steep as if intended to
reach the clouds, and caused the magistrate
of the place to give it the name of Jacob's
Ladder. At the top of the hill stood the
church, which from a distance, served as a
guide to the straying travellers; around it
were BcattereU the dwellings of the inhabi
tants, stationed on the different platforms of
the green hill, like nests in the wide branch
es of a lofty cedar.
At its foot, not far from Jacob's Ladder
wara Uro email £om 7 oA(\arnted by a hedge
of eldertrees. The two cottages, so exactly
resembling each other in their neatly white
washed walls, in the thatched roots, in the
oasements round which hnng the honeysuck
le in fragrant clusters, camo upon the eye as
twin sisters, so alike in garb and feature as
scarcely to be distinguishable from each oth
er.
In truth, both were built at tho same time,
by Tom and Jor.es Basham; not even a
hedge divided them at first.—There was as
! little separation between the houses as be
! I wee n the hearts of the two brothers ; but
' their close neighborhood soon gave rise to
innumerable quarrels, and, at the time our
recital begins, the Bashams had long ceased
to hold any intercourse with each otner.
| lltev no longer oven entertained any |
! have parted in anger unconsci<rasiy Ü beeome |
■ embittered. We fill np with reproach and
I censure the void which wounded affection
! has left in our hearts, and by incossantly
1 complaining to ourselves of those wo have
! loved, we at length think wo are quilo right
in hating them.
| No one could tell the cause of quarrel
which, originating in some ebullition of torn
\ per about somo trifle, and fomented by mu
| tual recrimination, and by the injudicious in
jjirfercnce of a third party, ended in an
Hpen rupture. It unfortunately happened,
at the time of a fresh dispute arose bo-
them about a piece of ground, which
to be dbcided by law, and though a fair
Hud equitable division was made, both par-
Hies left the court still more exasperated—for
lit is love, not justice, that softens animosity
j and soothes angry feelings
| If, then, the impossibility of a reconcilia. |
i lion between the Bashams had become, so
jto speak, a thing of public notoriety, all
i those who had failed in their endeavors to
; bring it about declared the thing was hope
: less. "Had not his Worship's exhortation
! been perfectly useless'? Hnd not farmer So
i ket got drunk three times in a vain attempt
Ito make them take a glass together ? Had
j not even Miss Rosin herself invited the two 1
| wives to lior house, under pretext of teach- 1
ittg them to make gooseberry wine, without j
| "eing able to prevail upon them to shake J
i hands?" But none of them seemed to re- ]
member that he who would reconcile friends I
j must make his appeal to feeling, not to rea- }
son. Divided hearts can only be reunited j
by gently touching some spring of feeling j
t common to each. j
Such was instate fifth intra when the ga-1
j rate of the parish arrived one day at the
! dwelling of Jones Basham. He was an ex
! cellent man ; he had no family, but his par
• ishioners were his children, and he was as
welcome to every house as a gleam of sun
shine oi wintor. His words were grave and
[ garitle, and even the rudest of his village
i flock fplt, he knew not why, his heart soft,
ened by a visit from him. To be with him
seemed like the inhaling of a purer atmos
phere, soothing, ard cheering, and bracing.
His was, indeed,, pure and undefiled relig
ion.
Jones Basham received the young pastor j
: as he was everywhere received, with a res
i pedful and cordial welcome. The children
{ were brought to him, and as he smilingly
1 spoke to them, and stroked their little beads,
stood timidly by. his side, now and again
stealing a glance at him through their long
eyelashes. Taking tho oldest by the hand,
he said—
"l have a favor io ask of you, George."
The little one looked up in surpriso.
"To-morrow is Palm Sunday, and I have
ohosen you to distribute tho loavee."
"I, sir!" exclaimed the child, crimsoning
•with pleasure.
"Yes, you! come early that I may Show
you what you are to do."
Tho child seemed as if he longed to thank
him, but stood twirling his cap and turning
. up tlie gravel with his foot, till his father
came to his relief by warmly expreaeing his
sor.se of the honor.
The pastor now accompanied Jones through
; his farm, which he examined minnteiy, in
> quiring into Basham'e plans, and pointing
out soversl alterations which Basham agreed
with him would be improvement, but de
-1 clarod his utter disability to carry them out.
"A hundred pounds," said he, "would be
> necessary, and I have not so much avaiia
i ble, and, as to borrowing it, it will set me
i hard to work to meet my actual liabilities."
"But the IjOk) has been pleased to grant
you your health," said the pastor; "you aro
' more fortunate ill this respect than your
, brother Tom, who for the last month has
■ been far from welL"
"Is he suffering much ?" inquired Jones,
k in a tone oi embarrassment.
"I do not know—he expressed a wish to
I see me to-day. I atn afraid lie is careless
| about himself—he labors just as much as for
merly, tnougli experience ought to have
made him wiser, for, if lam not mistaken,
it was over exertion that killed your father."
"It was, indeed," said Jones, affected by
tho recollection; "but why does he not con
sult a physician ?"
"I have tried to persuado him to do so,
but we have not one in the village, and he
thinks his illneis too trifling to send for ad
vice to the neighboring town ; so that there
is no chance of managing the matter, unless
a doctor should by any accident pass by or
be sent for by somo ono else in the village.
Unfortunately it may be somo time before
such an opportunity ocours, and Tom's ill
ness may increase; however I hope his
youth and good constitution may oarry him
if
So saying, the curate, having now arrived
at the garden gate, took leave of Jones Basil
am and repaired to his profiler's. Arrived
there, ho announced to the little Fanny,
whom he met as he was entering the house,
that she should next day help in the annual
distribution of bread in the chnrch. Fanny,
not a whit less proud or happy than George,
ran to toll her father of tho honor intended
her by the curate. Tom soon appeared to
thank the young pastor, who made most par
ticular inquiries about his health.—The far
mer was still suffering, but seemed now
much less occupied with illness, than with a
small bgacy which his wife had just had her
left, and immediately began to consult the
j curato as to the comparative security of dif
-1 ferent banks in which he proposed to lodge
tUmoaci.
The curate -a.,u e j him, in tne nrei in
stance, to pay off all incumbrances on tin
farm, and to make some improvements in it
which he himsolf pointed out.
"I have just given the same advice to
your brother Jones," added the pastor, "and
ho would gladly follow it, only that lie is in
sad want of money."
"I believe," observed Tom, "he has met
with some heavy losses within these last two
years,"
"I fear that ho is much pressed just now,"
added the curato,' and, to judge by appear
ances, the legacy which you have just re
coived would have been more wanting to
him than you."
When the curate left, Tom remained a
long time thoughtful. His brother was in
want of money, whilst lie had a sum of
j which ho was actually at a loss to disposo.
| Formerly had such a thing happened, it
would not have been long before he would
have taken the leathern purse which contai
ned the guineas to his brother Jones, and
said to him, "You may have as much as |
you want, brother, and take a memorandum i
of what you keep." But now his offer
would have been insultingly rejocted. and
this he felt he could not brook, or looked
1 upon as an advance on his part, which ho
I would have dreaded still more.
1 Nevertheless, to leave Jones without help,
; if he were really in want, was very hard.
\ Evon were every spark of affection extinct
I in the hearts of the two brothers, tho honor
j of the Bashams would not permit that one
] should see the other in poverty, or unable to
meet his engagements. The heart is not
i leßs quick in finding a pretext for kindness
ilhaU. it is fnr.inn.er. and Tom ivhiln fnneving
he still preserved all his old rancor against
Jones, passed the night in devising how he
could manage to be of use to him.
Joues, on his side, was not less pre-occu
pied. The few words let fall by tho curate,
relative to his brother's health, weighed upon
his mind. The more he thought upon Tom's
illness tho more his alarm increased. He
feared it would become dangerous, and was
uneasy at the little care he took of himself.
Ho knew Tom had always been imprudent,
not only taking no precautions against the
attacks to which he was subject, but, when
they did come, appearing to took upon them
as a guest whom, though unwelcome, it
would bo too troublesome to attempt to dis
lodge. Any precautions that he aid take
were always forced upon him by Jones, who
was himself a bit of a doctor. He was con
sulted by the villagers about their own corns,
and their childrens' whooping coughs and
chilblains, and concocted drinks renowned
through the village. He had acquired this
medical knowledge from his wife's brother,
who was a doctor, and every yean spent a
few days at the farm. Jones saw he could at
once, by a letter, bring him to Seliack, where
he might see his brother and judge of the
elate of his health. But how would his viei l
be received by tho latter? Would he not
look upon it as on attempt at a reconciliation
—as on indirect advance? Jones could not
bear the thought.
Thus the night was passed by both broth
ers in uncertainty and doubt.
Meanwhile George and Fanny nwoko be
fore day-break, full of the ceremony in whioh
tboy ware to play so oonspioious a part.
Dressed in their best, they repaired to the
church with their respective families, who
lor this day were to occupy the seats of hon
or near the'eommunion table. Jones and
Tom had always carefully avoidod each oth
er in the chnrch ; and it was, with no small
emotion, that they found themselves side by
side in the same pew. The faces of both
flushed, as both at first indistinctively drew
back, and then, as if actuated by the same
feelings, again advanced.
"He is HI," said Jones to himself.
"He is io trouble," thought Tom.
And they both took their allotted seals.
In tho Meantime, George and Fanny, urho
had sefHbm met since the quarrel between
¥
Truth and Right—God aid our Country.
tho families, xvcro kneeling side by side,
now and then exchanging a few words and
smiles. The Bashams mado every effort not
to look at each other, but their oyes found a
common object in the two children, and
sometimos met as if by seine irresistible at
traction; tho young creatures were a kind of
neutral ground, a living link of a chain, in
sensibly drawing them to each other. Eve- '
ry joyous smile of George and Fanny was
like a sunbeam playing upon their hearts'
haired, and melting it away. Vainly did
false shame and pride attempt to resist the
genial influence Nature was stronger than
the strong.
And now each of them stole a glance at
his brother.
"Whata care-worn look he has!" said
Tom to himself.
"How delicate helooks 1" thought Jar-a.. ;
""" at, tha
instant through their minds, they stole a !
glance at each other.
At this moment the curate began to deliv
er his sermon, which, according to custom
ot the good man, was short; but before lea
ving the pulpit he pointed to George and
Fanny, as they stood holding the baskets of
loaves.
"You are aware," continued the curate,
"that one of ray predecessors established, at
Shellack, this annual distribution, for which
he left a provision in his will. His intention
was, no doubt, to encourage ;ou to live to
gether in harmony, poace, and love ; and it
is no less the will of the God of love, who
put this care for you into his heart, and thete
foro, my brethren, when these children go
round tho chnrch presenting to you their bas
kets and repeating according to the direction
of ihe 'PeaeS and good ixeiginwi
hood,'therefore it WT" would exhort oach
one of you to examine his own hear', and
when each one puts forth his hand to take
his share of the comnyn bread, to do so as a
pledge of mutual forgtvoness."
With these words the curate quitted the
pulpit, and Goorgo and Fanny began the dis
tribution.
After goi.'g the rounds to the members of
the chapter, they stopped at the bench occu
pied by their parents, and, as they presented
the baskets, repeated in die course the
words—"Poace and good Neighborhood."
The brothers .were evidently confused.
Thoy looked up, and Tom saw the furrowed
brow of Jones, and Jones the pallid cheeks
I of Tom ; both were deeply affected.
"IbiOoe and gooi Neighborhood," was ut
tered in a half whisper, and their hands met
in the basket.
And now the ceremony over, tho two fam
ilies lelt the church; the two brothers walk -
ed out together, though no word was ex
changed till they reached the churchyard.
"Methinks wo have both just now made a
promise to God," said Tom, but without rai
sing his eyes. "And for my part, I desire
no better than to keep it."
"You cannot desire it more than I do,"
said Jones; "and if you do wish it, will you
! prove it by lotting tho children diuO together
at my house next Sunday."
"With all my heart," said Tom.
"And what is to prevent your coming
with them, Tom, it can do you no harm, and
may do you some good, as by that time my
brother-in law, the doctor, will be with us?"
~. . ..Jil ]■— ■■ AY—4—Y. ■■■ ■
that you find use for the hundred guineas
just left me as a legacy, and which I am
quite at a loss to put out to advantage."
At these words Jones quickly raised his
head, and his eyes encountered the gaze of
his brothes.
"Ah, the curate told you I was in Want of
money ?" exclaimed he.
"And told you I was in want of a doctor!"
replied Tom.
An exclaamatiua of gratified surprise burst
from the lips of both, as they rushed into
each other's arms.
"Peace and good Neighborhood," mur
-1 mured a voice at their side : it was the cu
rate, and shaking hands with them both, he
said, "are not Peace and good Neighborhood
happy words 1"
POETRY IN A MILLIONAIRE— The last item
in the will of John McDonough, lately de.
ceased in Louisiana, is a* follows:
"And (I was near forgetting that) I have
still one small request to make, one little fa
vor still to ask, aud it shall be the last. It Is,
that it may be permitted, annually, to the
children ot the free schools, situate the near
est to my place of interment, to plant and
water a few flowers around my grave. This
little act will have a double tendency; it
will open their young and susceptible hearts
to gratitude and love to their divine Creator
for having raised up, as the humble instru
ment of his bounty to them, a poor, frail
worm of earth like me, and teaoh them, at
the same time, what they are, whence they
came, and whither they must return,"
THE WOOB-SHEB— "My dear Amelia,"
said a dandy, falling on bis kneea, before
his adorable, "1 have long wished for this
opportunity, but hardly dare speak now, for
fear you will reject me ; but I love you—
say, bo mine? You would be everything
desirable—everything my heart could wish
—your smiles would shed " Here tke
fellow came to a pause. "Your smilns
would died!" and again came to a stop for be
could not think of a word suitable to be ap
plied.
"Never mind tho wood shell" exclaimed
Amelia's younger brother, who had slipped
into the room unperceived, at this moment,
"but go on with your courting."
Dlltz in mi Omnibus.
The Philadelphia City Item, a spirited, ra
cy, and fun-loving paper, tells the following
good story of Signor-Blitz:
A night or two sinco Blitz, the renowned
magician and ventriloquist, took a seat in an
omnibus, containing seven or eight passen
gers. The coach liad%ily procoeded a cou
ple of squares, when the driver heard some
one exclaim :
'Hold up—hold up, I say '
The horses were stopped, and Jehu looked
nround smilingly for tho passenger, but none
appeared. With an immodest exclamation,
he gathered up his reins and said 'git up.'
Pretty soon some one cried out—
' Stop, driver, stop!'
The driver again stopped, and looked
down into the coach, inquired what was
i wamtm:. The iiitsscrmqi-i ami such other,
i as much as to say, 'I didn't speak.'
i Again tho coach rolled on, only to bo stop
ped at the next corner by the heart-rending
squeaking of a poor, run-ovor pig. Instant
ly each head was thrust out of the window
to behold tho death struggles of the grunter,
but no gruhter was to be seen. In another
minute some one exclaimed in a gruff voice;
'Keep off my togs.'
Every one looked around, but in vain, for
the man with the damaged toes. The pas
sengers were completely bewildered. At
the next crossing, the coach stopped to take
in a lady. Hardly had she taken her scat
before she exclaimed—
' Lot me be—keep your hands off me.'
"The gentleman seated next to hor, said
very innocently—
'l didn't touch you, madam !'
And the driver, looking down, shouted— 1
'Look-a-here, m ihere; if you ro gentle
men, I'd thank you not to take improper lib
erties with the lady passengers. It won't
do.'
The lady made an observation, as the
coach rolled on, but she was not understood.
They had scarcely gone a square further,
when the passengers were startled by the
cries of an infant. Instantly all eyes were
fixed upon a middle aged gentleman, who
had a carpet bag on bis lap. The man blush
ed, and stammered out barely intelligable—
'What the deuce is all this about ?'
'Lot mo out!' screamed the lady.
'Murder!' shouted a boy on the- steps,
while three or four lugged lustily at the strap
'What is the mattor in there?' inquired the
driver.
'Mattor enough !' replied a gentleman, j
'take my fare out of this quarter.'
'Keep your hand out of my pocket,' pro
ceeded from soma one.
'Did you address me, sir?' nskod anoth
er.
'I didn't spoak at all,' gravoly replied tho \
man with the quurter.
'Because, sir, no ono shall, with impunity,
accuse '
Again tho baby was heard to cry.
'Shame!' said one.
'Who would havo believed it?' rcmarkod
another, while a third, (Blitz, of coure,)
shook the omnjbus with a hoarse laugh.
Thinking ho had fun enough, tho ventrilo
quist paid his fare and jumped out of iko
omnibus. Scarcely had ho reaehed tho side
walk, howover, before tho driver heard the
" " 1 "* 11 1 I* ■ i fi ... 1....... m- mm
many seconds, but not a passonger could he
discern. Filled with wonder, he hurried on
his way. Blitz is a great fellow.
Census of the United States.
In 1790 tho Union consisted of sevonteen
States, with a population of 4,929,527, and
451,424 square miles of land, or 9 persons
to a square mile.
In 1800 there were twenty Slates with a
population of 5,305,040, and an area of 572,-
024 square miles, or 8 persons to a square
mile.
In 1810 there were twenty-four States, with
a population of 7,239,414, and an area of
782,544 square miles, or 10 persons to a
square mile.
In 1830 there were twenty-seven States,
with a population of 12,866,020, with an a
rea of 849,314 square miles, or 13 persons to
a square mile.
In 1840 there were twenty-nine states with
a population of 17,068,666, with an area of
1,107,344 square miles, or 14 persons to the
square mile.
We havo now 31 states, containing a pop
ulation (by estimate) of 21,686,000, and an
area of 1,914,125 square miles, or 12 persons
to the square mile.
ty Hon. Levi Woodbury, ono of the
Judges of the Supreme Court of tho United
States, has been chosen a delogato to the
State Convention for ihe revision of the con
stitution of New Hampshire.
IST "Dr. Parr," said a young siuden
once to the old linguist, "lut's you and I
write a book." "Very well," replied the
doctor, "pot in all that I know, and all that
yon don't know, end we will make a big
one." 1
ty Whatever is good is worthy of pros- (
ervation, is worthy of cultivation. The little
gorm of truth you throw by tho wayside will
not be lost—it shall not perish ; no! it will be
guarded and nurtured by angels, and shall ,
flourish forever!
I3T Mr. Collamer, late Postmaster Gener
al, has been elected circuit Judge of the sec
ond Judicial district of Vermont. ,
/ Fi om the Albany Dutchman. I
THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER. |
A BALLAD. ,
nr JOHN a. SAXE.
AH Attorney was taking a turn,
In shabby habiliments drent;
His coat it was shockingly worn,
And the rust had invested his vest.
- [
His hreechs had suffered a breach,
His linen and worsted were worse:
He had scarco a whole crown in his hat, 1
And not half a crown in his purse.
And thus as he wandered along,
A cheerless and comfortless elf,
He sought for relief in a song,
Or complainingly talked to himself:
"Unfortunate man that I am !
I've never a client but grief;
Tho case is,, l'vo no case at all,
i AuJ in hriul, t ve no er had a bnefl_
"I've waited and waited in vain,
Expecting an 'opening' to find,
VVhoro an honest young lawyer might gain !
Some reward for tho toil of his mind. j
• V ''.>• J
" 'Tis not that I am wanting in law,
Or lack an intelligent face,
That others have cases to plead,
While I have to-plead for a case.
"O, how can a modest young man
E'ro hope for the smallest progression—
The profession's already so full
Of lawyers so full of profession!"
Whilo thus ho was strolling around,
His eye accidentally fell
On a very deep hole in ground,
And he sighod to himself, "It is well
To curb his emotions he sat
j On tho cuib-stone the space of a minute;
I Then cried, "here's an opening at last !"
Alia 111 Icco than . gUTy uraa in it !
Next morning twelve citizens came,
('Twas tho coroner bade them attend,)
To the end that it might be determined
How the man had determined his end !
"The man was a lawyer, I hear."
Quoth the foreman who sat on the corse;
"A lawyer? Alas?" said another,
"Undoubtedly died of remorse !
A third said, "He knew the deceased, |
An attorney well versed in the laws,
And as to the cause of his death, —
'Twas no doubt from the want of a cause.'
The jury decided at length,
After solemnly weighing the matter,
j "That the lawyer was drowmsrf, because
He could not keep his head above water!'
! |
THE PRINCE OF MAGICIANS.
It is related of Signor Blitz, that wishing
one day, while in Pennsylvania, to procure a
draft on New York, for a certain amount, he i
stepped into one of the country banks in j
this State, and mado known his wisheatothc j
proper officer, who, by the way, was a stiff, ,
staid, old Quaker. Being informed that he
could be accommodated, he was asked—
In whose name shall I draw the draft ?"
•'ln my own, Signor Blitz," was the an
swer.
"Art thou the wonderful man who jis per- [
forming all these mysterious things?" asked
the Quaker.
"The same," answered the Signor.
"And now, friend, wilt thee show me one
of thy tricks ?" interrogated the Quakor.
1 —; i ii. ■ AA—
taking a quarter of a dollar from his pocket
he handed it to tho officer, and requested
him to mark it so that he would be able to
distinguish it. This the Quaker did.
"And now,' said the Signor, taking a
glove from his pocket, and placing it over I
the'quarter, which ho had laid upon the
counter, "are you sure tho quarter is under
the glove?"
"Quite sure," answered the Quakei, gent
ly lifting the glove, aud beholding the quar
ter snugly ensrouced under it.
"Sure, quite sure?" asked the Signor.
"Yes, friend, I see it with mine own eyes,-'
answered the other.
"Lift the glove," said the Magician.
The Quaker did so, and to his consterna
tion, the quarter was gone.
"Friend," said "wilt thou do
that once more f"
Again the Quaker placed the quarter in
the same position, and motioning the Signor
to stand back, the Quaker placed his eyes
down on a level with the counter, and then
making a sudden dive at the glove, he lifted
it, and——the quarter was gone.
"Jonathan," said the Quaker, drawing a
long breath, "place that money," referring
to the amount received from the draft, "a
way in the safe, and look it up, and put the
key in thy pocket."
"Well," said the Signor, who is ulways
fond of a joke, "now I will you a proposi
tion. If I can, standing where I am, draw
that money into my pocket, I may koep it;
if I cannot, I will surrender the draft, and
the money is yours."
"Go thy way, friend, thou shouldst not do
such tl inga," said the Quaker, politely bow
ing the Signer to the door.
fctr Hon. Thomas Dorr, who was so vilely
persecuted by the algerine whigs of Rhode
Island, is now in very ill health at his fath
er's residence, and it is doubtful whether he
wilt long survive.
NOVEL ADVERTISING.—A dog covered with
advertising placards perambulates the Strand
and fleet, Loudon, with the utmost gravity
and decorum.
W BARNOM is now out in search of the I
Minister wjist always minds his own business
[Two Dollars per
NUMBER 50. '
From the Albany Dutchman.
Crumbs for All Kinds of Chickens.
MARRIAGE— An institution that enables us
to engraft ourselves upon new stems, and
thus transmit our names to the latest poster
ity. While tho name of Sourby, the bache
lor, will expire with himself, the name of
; Smith the marrying man, will flourish like
a green bay tree, till time throws away his
| scythe, or breaks his hour-glass. Being the
author of an epic poem, is a good way to
render your name immortal; but being the
author of six healthy boys, is still bettor.
Tho young lady that wouldn't go into a
gun factory, because some of tho rifles
hadn't their breeches on, is stopping at IV,
She was awfully shocked on Wednesday.
It appears that she had bsen rolling a potstoe
limy. v... , k ..
things had eyes. Burnt feathers wore
promptly administered, hut we regret to say
that her nervous system is so deranged, that
there are hut small hopes entertained of her
j recovery.
It is really amusing (o son the generalship
that women display to keep themselves in
pockot money and nick-nacks. A hus
band's inexpressibles aro very frequently
transmuted into a pair of flower vases,
while his second best shirt goes into a cruci
ble as rags, and. comes forth a pair of pie
pans. Our friend Dubois says his wife will
make money enough from hor last baby':
croup, to buy herself a silk frock and ne -
bonnet. Four limes a day she would send
up to tho shop for "ninopence right away,"
to buy paregoric with. So much for the
croup. When the measles aro in the family
she contrives, he says, to get up a revenue
of sixpences mai aiuuuiinu Dumtt-lw. dol
lars per week.
Smith says that Donelly would he a pat
tarn of a husband, if it was not foi a failing
or two he's got. He always comes home
drunk, and when he's drunk, ho always
pitches his wife out of tho window, and
sends the tea table after her. With these
slight drawbacks, ho says, he is "as good a
man to his family" as you oould possibly
desire This being the case, we hope Mrs,
Donnelly will bear his foiblee, end bless the
T-ord that he didn't send her a brute lor a
husband, like some poor women have got.
The effect of commerce on politeness is
| strikingly shown at Constantinople. A cen
tury since, Turks used F.nglishmen for spit
toons. They now attend horse-races togeth
er, and get drunk and sociable out of tho
same punch-bowl.
j LOSING ITS POETRV.— A late traveler
! among the lonian isles, says the first thing
I he met at Alliens, was a Greek girl selling
I "Morrison's Pills." Had the pyramids
i thrown scmersets, ho would not have been
| more astonished,
The first throo months of marriage is gen
erally spent in finding ou'. each other's bad
I qualities—the next three in getting use to
them. Till you aro wedded, therefore, h
half year, don't count on being happv. An
gels frequently become devils in that time.
Father Muloney says the only way to
make puiu-.h, is to hava ihs beverage two
. E.i..1 i —l.l I- RR —a -u .J- - _RC, ENTIMN ii11ji jl l
Should this be too strong, you must dilute it
he observes, by throwing in more whiskey.
Dobbs says that the man that keeps a fast
horse and a fighting-cook, is just us sure to
i go to the devil as a brick house that is lock
ed up in a law suit.
Bashful people are generally mischievous.
While our office boy never talks to a person
without looking down the left leg of his
breeches, bo is no sooner left alone, than he
is setting figgery four to throw foreman
into '.he coal bin.
If you would know how a bull wcgihl look
when hie tail is twisted, just aak a man for
"that little bill he owes you" when he is
talking to a woman,
A late writer yqs that the skies of Italy
are bluer than any thing he ever saw, with
the exception of Miss Smith's eyes. Miss
Smith is the young woman he sits up with
An exquisite who boards at the City Ho
tel, says that oysters ore so cold and damp,
that he dare not oat the Mora things," for
fear of catohiug "a dem catarrh."
to make poople idle and poetic, we know
of nothing better than love. A -young
friond of ours, who "has got it bad," has
done nothing for the last three months, bnt
sit in the garret, and writ# sonnets to bis
Snivellinker's eyebrow.
Mrs. Smithcrs says that Jenny Litid is a
blessed woman—all she lacks being wing*
to make her a perfeel "syrup."
CHURCHES— PIaces where dressy women
go to learn the fashions.
ty A lad Who had lately gone out to ser.
vice, having had sallnd served up at dinner
every day for a week, ran away and when
ho was asked why he left his place replied,
i "they made mh eat grass 1' the summer,
and I wur afraid they'd make tne yeal bay
i' the Winter, and I would not stand that; so
1 wur off."
tad" Alex. E. Brown, of Northampton court •
ty, is spoken of by the whigs for t f . States
Senator.

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