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THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
R. W. Wearer Proprietor.] VOLUME 2. TUB STAR OF THE NORTH Is published every Thursday Morning, by R. W. WEAVER. OFFICE—Up sloirs in the New Brick building on the south side of Main street, third square beluw Market. TERMS : —Two Dollars per annum, if paid within sir months from the time of subscri bing; two dollars and fifty cents if not pnid within tho 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 dollar, and Iwonty-five cents for each additional insertion A liberal discount will be made to those who ad vertisc by the year. TOO YOUNC TO LOVE. BY THOMAS lIAYNF.S BAYXT. They say yon are too young to love,— Too young to be united; In scorn fhey bid us both renounce Tho fond vows wo have plighted. They send thee forth to see the world, Thy love by absence trying; Then go ;. for I can smile farewell— Upon thy truth relying. I know that Pleasure's hand will throw Her silken nets about thee; I know how lor.esomc I shall find Tho long, long days without theo. But in thy letters ther'll be joy; The reading,—the replying I'll kiss each word that's traced by thco, — Upon tny truth relying When friends applaud thee, I II sit by, In silent rapture gazing; And, oh ! how proud of being loved By her they have been praising. But should Detraction breathe thy narno, The world's reproof defying, I'd love thee,—laud lliec,—trust thee still.— ] Upon thy truth relying. E'en those who smile to see us part, Shall see us meet with wonder ; Sucii trials only makn the heart That truly loves grow fonder. _ Our sorrows past shall bo our pride When with each other vieing ; Thou wilt confide in him, who lives Upon thy truth relying. Old Fut's Gallows. An Incident of the Revolutionary WnY. Near Peekskill, not far from the main road, stands a clump of forest trees, among which an aged hteWary is r.,mwu.*hal conspi cuous. It bore for along time, and still hears, 1 bclievo, tr.e naino of''Old Put's Gallows," from the fact that many a Tory spy, skinner, and thieving cow-boy had swung from its branches when Putnam commanded on the lines. lii llie early part of August. 1777, General Tryon was at the British outpost* near King's bridge. It will be remernbereil that he was the royal Governor of New York at the com mencement of the Hevolulion, ami a full co lonel of the British regulars.—After the war broke out he was placed on active service, ami raised to a general's rank, with power to recruit and equip a Tory corps or brigade from tho Americans who yet remained loy al to the crown and Goverenment of Britain. For a long time it had been a favorite pro ject with Putnam that an attempt should be made to re capture the city of New Tork, and from all accounts, it appears that Wash ington did not like the plan, but with pru dent caution did not wish to hazard at the tune the risk of a defeat. Pu'.nam, however, mado several feints and false movements at liia outsposts to alarm Sir Henry Clinton J in which he succeeded, and thus kept 'ha Brit ish troops within the city for its protection, that athorwise, aided by the (loot, would hare been ravaging the adjacent shores of other States. It became necessary to Sir Henry Clinton that he should kno ir the po sition and condition of Putnam,* troops more accurately , also endeavor if possible to as certain what parties in the city gave Putnam such accurate information o f his, Clinton's, plans. Tryon was busy raising his new levies', and for him Sir Henry Clinton sent 'General Tryon,' he raid, ! I must know the position of Putnam's troops and tloir number, including his fresh battallions of militia You ought to find some one—a na tive—that has enlisted in your corps that will go into llib highlands and obtain if for us The reward shall be liberal, and if success ful, the person shall be advanced a grade ' 'I think I have such a man, Sir Henry, a sergeant Is De Lancy's regiment He enlist ed only a week ago, and is intelligent and nmbitious He has friends on the other side that do not know that ho has joined t'S yet ' JThe very man Go and send him. Gen. TTyon was absent about two hours, for he bad to send to Harlem, where the sergeant i was stationed, undergoing a drill with oth ers of the new levies under their officers. 'l've seen the man and had a long conver sation with film,' said Tryon, when he en tered. 'He is willing to undertake it on ono condition, and that is only a condition of pride.' 'What is it then ?' 'That he shall receive a lieutenant's com mission at once. He will then deparlthein slant you require, and is confident of suc cess.' 'Do you know him to be worthy of reli ance V I 'Froth all that I can loam, and from my own judgment I should not doubt it in the least.' J Tho young sergeant soon made his ap-. | fcearanco. He was not more than three and Lrenty years of ago, of geod personal ap- ILraoce, and a cunning twinkle about his BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 23, 1851. small black eye,'denoting no want of confi dence in his own good opinion. Sir Henry was bM> well pleased with him that his In structions were soon completed ; and receiv ing his commission, the young lieutenant bade the British commander farewell, to re turn in a few days with tbe desired informa tion. On reaching his quarters he ohanged his military apparel for a plain countryman's suit, ripping the lining of his cocked bat un der which he placed his commission, which he carefully re-sewed, saying to himself: 'I think when Miss Hosa Mtlford sees my commission, as an officer in his Majesty's service, she will no longer refuse the hand of j Nathan Palmer.' Tl.e next morning he loft tho farther out posts at Kingsbridge, on horseback, where Gen. Tryon hod accompanied him, to pursue his expedition. It was a beautiful morning, and he looked forward with all the anticipa tions of pleasure, and hope gleamed warm ly in his [breast. He passed the neutral ground without molestation, and advanced into what was considered the American dis tricts without being troubled by any of the occasional travellers on the road, although every ono was armed and carried a musket- Now and then he met an American yeoman or farmer with whom he was acquainted, that knew not of hit defection lor ho was born in that section of the country, and resi dents within a wide circle were then consid ered neighbors.—Late in the afternoon he cantc tvithin sight of the regular Amcrioan outposts, when ho turned off the main road by a narrow one that led lo a mill and dwel ling on tho batiks of a small but rapid stream. Let us for a moment look into the dwel ling and notice its inmates. One was a girl of about eighteen, and a fine instic beauty, engaged in some trilling housework, but mainly listening to the conversation of a lively-looking, brown romplexioned young man, in a half military garb. It is evident that what he said pleased her, for she 'looked at him from time to timo, as she smiled archly, with fondness.—These two were Ho-a Milford, the miller's daughter, and William Townley, a neighboring far mer's son, an ensign in tho American army, lying near. 'Who is that, William, coming toward the i house on horseback ?' 'As I live,' said the young man, 'it is your old spark, that sly rascal, Nathan Palmer, the dominie's nephew, who despised him ; and cast him off. The rogue, I heard in aj 1 private letter this mor.iing, ill tit he had cn- , listed in the refugee corps. If I knew cer- I' tain, he would swing for it. Depend upon j 1 it. Rosa, he is here for 110 good purpose.' I 'Do not be seen, William, leave me to ' manage him.' The young man left by a back door, no^L 1 out of hearing, as the tory lieutenant and spy entered by -he front. Ho advanced with a bold step. 1 •Rosa, 1 have but little time to spare, and j want your answer at once. Read that. j He took the commission from the lining of j his hat, and placed it before her. 'Some difference between holding a com- 1 mission in King George,* service and being 1 a ragged continental!' 'Nathan Palmer,'said Rosa, sternly, 'I j always disliked you—now I kale you,' and 1 she banded him his commission. "Do you reluse to bo my wife now V 'Vour wife! Leave the house, or I shall be tempted to loose the dog at the mill upon you.' 'Good bye, Miss Rosa,' he said, grinding ; his teeth in anger. 'Look to your father's mill—your house—yourself—1 will be aven ged !' And he mounted Lis horse and rode swiftly away. llosa hastened to the back doot to look | | for her lover. He was just leaving for the j ; camp, and the wave of his hand indicated that he knew Palmer's errand. Ha hasten ed to the camp, hart an interview with Put- I nam, and the latter issued his [.livate orders. Palmer came into the lines that night with the freedom.of an old companion and hav ing as he supposed accomplished his errand, was about taking his departure, when he ! was arrested, and the fatal commission was full proof of his guilt as a spy. After a brief trial he was ordered to be hung on Put's gallows the next afternoon. Before the hour of execution came, Tryon, who beard of the arrest, sent in a flag, de claring it murder to hang a mere civilian who happened to ba a royalist, and threatened re taliation. He was not aware that Palmer's commission had been found upon his per son. Putnam wrote back this brief and memorable note : HEAIXIITARIERS, Aug. 7, 1777. I Sir Nathan Palmer, a Lienlenan* in your King's service, was taken into my camp as a spy. He was tried as & spy ; he was condemned as a spy, and you may rest assu red, sir, he shall be hanged as a spy. I have the honor to be, etc. ISRAEL PUTNAM. His Excellency, Gen. Tryon. P. S. Afternoon. He is banged. Such was 01d Put'—prompt to execute and deoide. The hickory tree still remains standing near Peekskill. TELEGRAPH FOR CALIFORNIA. —The U. S. Senate, the other day, received the petition of JOSIAH SNOW, A. BANGS, and associates, of 1 the Atlantic and Pacific Telegraph for a subscription or donation of $300,000, in aid of a Telegraph Line from the Missippi I to California, to be finished in eighteen • months from the passage of the bill. II 1 was referred. Sceue in a Railroad Car. BY OCKAMUS. Tis often said ( j lat (rut h is stranger '-ban fiction. To such as would doubt the vera city of the same as a test, 1 advise to take a downward trip in any of the 27th st. cars, in N. Y, on any Sunday evonlng between the hours of 9 and 10. It is a well known fact that those oars, like an omnibus in a rainy day, are never full—not even when its in mates are packed as close as pilchards in a cask, for the conductor is sure to find a lit tle more room on the platforms, and if need bd offthe roof itself. 'Plenty of room, marm. Gentlemen will please give their seats to the ladies,' says the conductor, as an elderly lady squeezes through the crowd ' Will you take my eeat V asks a young gentleman. 'Don't do it, Charlie, you will tire your self standing,' whispers his sweet heart. — The lady by edtvig, squeezing and pushing, arrives at length to the proffered place. 'Wat the divil do you mean by that—sure if any lady is to be sated, ye should give it to the lady wid me, who's bin standing iver since we left.' 'l'll give it lo whom I please.' 'Don't mind him, Toddy, I'm a better la dy nor site is, for all her fine silk dress And jewels.' Ting, ting, gpes the bell. 'Let this lady out—make roojp towards the door.' 'Blood and nouns ! kapo off me toos and be d—d till ye.' 'Pardonz, Monsieur, excuse—it be von vat you call, sacre blue acshidenfi' The moment-she lady rises to leave, snmo twenty persons rush forward, jostling her and themselves to secure the resting place. 'Corre out of that—this lady got in the seat first.' 'No, she didi.'l.' 'I say she did, and I'll have the place if I have to fight for it.' 'Conductor step this way if you please.' 'Yes, sir, I will if I can, allow me to pass if you please, you ate so crowded that 1 cannot.' 'Plenty of room for a dozen yet,' calls out the driver In they come, some threo or four. Ting, ting, ting. 'Driver, stop,'tnwts nut an old lady, 'if you take any more in I'll complain to the mavor.' 'Sorry I can't oblige you madam, hut I must have full fare or I shall lose my siteva shun, (To the horses,) Get up.' 'Can't you spit your nasty tobacco juice clear of my shoes?' asks a dandy. 'Tell me that agin and I'll smash a chaw in your face.' ' 'ITh-rodo la-loo!' 'Oh my new diess! Conducter, here's a man vomiting!' 'Poh! what a stench—open the-windows!) 'Na, na ye matiado that, my bairn is nea weel, and the cauld wind will ho hurtful.' 'What's that ye say, (hie) what the devil are ye stopping for, driver, (hie) did ye nev er see a man drunk (hie) before!' 'Oh,my new dress is spoiled !' 'Serves ye right—what business had ye to come in with it on !' 'Begar, zar, is dis vat you call mannarcs, hey V 'Yohn, zhall we not bettare jump out?' 'Yaw, I link it more bettare as good for to go.' 'Sit still, if you please ; if you are going farther down, don't move, it will cause con fusion,' says the conductor. 'I say Tom, give us a chaw of tobacco.' 'Here, help yourself.' 'What in the de'il shall Ido with the old quid—the wifidows are all down, and I don't like to hurt the women's dresses. All the gentlemen that are between here nnd iho door, will much oblige by passing this old oofjer out.' D—o it, sui, da you mean to insult me with vour nasty tobacco V 'Keep cool, gents.' 'Conductor, this lady is fainting—let us out.' Ting, ting. 'l'll have her seat, anyhow.' 'Madam, you must be tired—sit on my knee.' 'What do you mean, sir—that lady is my wife.' 'Who said she wasn't? I only asked her out of politeness.' 'O mine cod, .mine cod !' 'Vat ish te matters, Hans?' 'Tat shentlemans mit hish paccy-box has trown te schnuff inter mine eyesh.' Ma, ma, that little boy is tickling me.' 'I ain't I onlv put my arm around her to save it from being broken.' 'Don't squaze me so, sir.' 'Divil a happorth I'll move for ye—didn't I pay my saxpence as well as ye for all yer dandy clothes.' Scenes such at these are of frequent oc currence. Cars that were made to seat conveniently twenty persons are often, by the cupidity of their conductors, made to stow sixty or seventy, and such a heteroge neous mass of human clay aro they, tnat to give a just idea of its ludicrous appearance, requires actual observance ; for to describe it correctly is ont of the power o f a Hogarth. To those who doubt, and have a spare six pence, I say go and judge for yourselves— premising however, that you musf expect to have your olfactory uervei lesloil to the ut most. Such as can bear the infliction wil| find their money not uselessly spent, for they will leam more of human nature in one short half hour than some leiarn during their whole lnj*s frith ail Right—-find ami Country. UNCLE li I I, U. Undo Bill Griffin, or Uncle Bill, as ho was commonly called,. with an irreverent disregard of his patronymic, did not retire from the shipchandlery business till he was worth something more than a plurn. Not being blessed with a son to continue his name and inherit his fortune, he lavished all his tenderness and all his care upon his daughter. Sweet Molly Griffin, thou wert as unlike a bull-dog. His face was as hard as a Duteh nutcracker—thine as soft as a rose leaf.- He was the veriest miser in all crea tion— spend thy pocket money as liberally as a prinoe of Wales. In his household management Uncle |Bill was a consumate skin-flint; tAlbion says that he used to soak the back-logs in the cistern, and was after the lamp oil[ and he was aided and abetted in all his niggardly schemes by a vinegar-faced housekeeper, who was the sworn enemy of all goad clieor, and stinted front a pure love of mianness. Yet pretty Mary had no reason to complain of her father's penuriousness, As far as she was concerned. He sent her lo the best schools, and gave her a carte blanche ,QII the most expensive milliners, and wlieu she walked j Washington street on a sunny day, there was not a more gaily bedecked damsel from Coruhill to Essex street. Of course, several very nice young men I in varnished leather and while kids, fell j over head and ears in love with her, and j there was a larger number of whiskers col lected outside of the meeUng the attended on Sunday then darkened the door of any other metropolitan church. Yet cold was the maid, aod tho' legions ad vanced, All drilled in Ovidian, Though they languished and ogled, protested and danced, Like shadows, they camo, and like shadows they glanced, From the pure polished ice of her heart, besides, Uncle Bill was a formidableguar dian to his attractive daughter. Did he not lira a charge of rock-salt into the inexpres ibles of Tom Biltkins. when he came seren ading with a cracked guitar? Didn't ho threaten to kick Towle for leaving a valen tine at his door. Wasn't lie capable of uft 4 - heard of atrocities ? The suiters of pretty Mary were all frightened olf the course by 1 her ogre of a father, except a steady young fellow who rejoiced imthe name of Samp rv.u Hiitlos, aiul wUt> wus.AddiMed to book keeping in a whosesale grocery store in Commercial street. The qld gentleman re. ally liked Billies; be was so staid, so quiet, | and so full of information. He was a regu lar prieo current, and no man on 'change was better acquainted with the value of i stocks. Why Mary liked him, it is more ! difficult to conjecture, for he was very defi- J cient in the small talk that young ladias are so fond of, was averse to moustaches, dis- I liked the opera, thought the ballet immoral, and considered waltzing indelicate, l'er | haps his good looks compensated for other I deSciences, or perhaps her hotror of dying in a state of single blessedness induced her |to countenance the only young man Uncle j Bill was ever known to tolerate. One evening Bittles screwed up his cour age to the task of addressing the old man on the subject nearest to his heart. "Mr. Griffin," said he, 'Tve had some - , thing here for a long lime," and he made up I a horrible face, and placed his hand some- i where near his heart. "Dyspepsia ?" said the old man. "Your daughter," gusped the young one. i "Well, what about her?" asked Uncle Bill ! skarpishly.' "I'm in lovo with her," said the unhappy I clerk. "Humbug!" said Uncle Bill. "Fact!" rejoined Biules. "What's yourincomo ?" inquired Griflin. "Eight hundred," answered the suppli cant. "It won't do, my boy," said Griflin, sha king his grim locks, "No man on a salary shall marry my daughter. Why, 6he's the finest girl in Boston, and it lakes capital to marry a fine girl. When you have thirty thousand dollars to begin w itli, you may come and talk with me." Bittles disappeared. Six months aftei that Miss Mary Griflin received a letter, with an endorsement of Uncle Sam, acknowledging the the receipt of forty cents. It ran thus: SAN FRANCISCO, California, 184' J. Dearest Mary. —Enclosed, you will find a specimen of California gold, which please hand your father, and oblige. Have to ad vise you of my reluin to Boston. Please tell your father that 1 have made fifty thousand dollars at the mines, and shall, wind and weather permitting, soon call upon him to talk over that matter, and arrange terms of partnership. Yours to command, , SAMPSON BITTLES. Mary, as in duty bound, handed the epis tle to her father, who was oveijoyed. Some weeks elapsed, and the return of the' steamer to Now York tvas telegraphed Grif fin was on the qui vive to see his future son. in-law. On the day of his expected arrival, ho met a Californiaii who came home in the eamo ship. "Where's Bittles?" ho inquired. "Oh, ho 1 you'll see him before a great j while," replied the Californian. "Has lie beon lucky!" | "Yes—fifty thousand at the lowest calcu- I lation. But he's going to try a gamo over you. Ho means to tell you that he's been robbed of all his gold on his way home, to ee if you have any generosity and disinter- estedness—to see whether you'd give your daughter to liim, gold or no gold." '•Sly boy!" chuckled old Griffin. "I'm ! much obliged to you for tho hint, I'll act ao j cordingly. Good morning." Now it happened that the Californian was a good friend of Bittles, and thai the sto ry of Bittle's misfortunes was absolutely true he having been robbed of every ounce of his hard-earned gold dust on his way home. So it moy be supposed ha called on Griffin with a very lugubrious and woe-begone air. "My dear boy," said Uncle Bill, "I am de lighted lo see you, and pleased to hear of your luck. I welcome you as my son-in law. But what tho deuce is the matter with you 1" "Alas, sir!" said Bitlles, "I made fifty thousand dollars at the mines " '•Very hard luck !" interrupted the old , gentleman, chuckling. "But on my way home, I was robbed of every ounce—and now how can I claim your daughter's hand 1" "Sampson Bittles," said Uncle Bill, very cunningly, "if you havn't got fifty thousand deserve to have it—you've wot" ked hard enough I o get It. You shall have my daughter, and the marriage shall be cel ebrated to-morrow night. In anticipation of your return I have had you published. And while you're talking to Mary, I'll draw a check for 550,000, so that you may go into partnership with a sufficient capi'al." "But, eir, I am a beggar." "So much the better—you'll work the harder to increase your fortune." "My dear sir, how can I thank you V' "By making my girl a good husband.— There—go—go—and tell Mary the news." Bittles did tell her the news, and they were married. He went into business on the fifty thousand furnished him by bis fath er-in-law, and was so extraordinary prosper ous, that Uncle Bill was more convinced than ever that the story was a regular Mu chansen. Once or twice he tried to repeat it, but the old gentleman always cut short with : ' I know all about it. Had it put in the papere, too, eh ? Oh, it was a terrible affair' Lot your all! Poor fellow I Well, I made it up to you—and now I won't hear another word about it'" When Uncle Bill departed this life, his immense property was found to be equally ctiriJoA between hie daughter and son-itl law ; the testator bequeathed to the latter his share to compensate him for the loss he sustained on his return from California. The old miser had died in the full belief that Bit ties never lost the gold dust. How to Make Room rti a Crowd. A rich and influential citizen of Hartford j Ct., who is guilty of a litlla darker skin' than his brethren happened to be present in N ew York City, on the occasion of a great public meeting on the Battery, at which the celebrated Blask Hawk, then on his tour throughout the country, was to make a speech, Colonel P—and his friend P , also a citizen of Hartford, walked down to the Battery, but found the crowd so large and dense, that they could not gain a posi tion within hearing distance of the stand oreeled for the speakers —After some delib eration, the Colonel proposed returning to the hotel, but his friend demurred. 'I can manage, with your permission, Colonel, to get a seat for each of us upon the platform.' 'How can that be done? I can hardly push my cane into the crowd, and how shall we aflecl an entrance with our bodies,?' 'l'll tell you, Colonel. Just let me an noucc you as Black Hawk , and we shall be ushered directly into the inner circle. Only a little Indianuity, you know! What say you V 'Agreed—but wo must muko our onset at another point.' They passed round to the other side, near the entrance from Broadway, and the Colo nel removed his hat, and assumed an air of aboriginal dignity, while his friend 1' cried in an exceeding loud voice, 'Boom, gentlemen ! Make way! Make way for the great chief, Black Hawk!' There was a buzzing in the crowd, and in an instant it separated on either hand, under P ' waving cane, like the waters of the Bed Sea, under the rod of Moses. The Colonel and P walked a'ong the line, hardly able to meet, with becoming gravity, the curious gaze of thousands of eyes—but their object was accomplished— they obtained eligible seats, and the nick name of 'Black Hawk' still sticks to Col. P Ct Yankee Blailc. WOMAN, s I'IOIITS.—A curious trial has just taken place in England. A man attempted to kiss a married woman, against her will 'had his nose bitten oIF. He brought suit for damages. The jury, without hesitation, ac quitted her; and the chairman said, thai if any man attempted to kiss a woman against her will, she had a RIGHT to bile of kit nose, if she had a fancy for so doing! CiP Still in the Garden of Eden.— There aro a man and wife living in Paradise, Noi| thumberland County Pa., whose names are Adam and Eve. BCUFF RE-ISSUES.— The Ilarrisbufg flank has racently made a [e-issue of relief notes of the of dues and twos. From Graham's Magazine. THE BURIAL LOVE. BY WILLIAM CULLER BRYANT. Two dark-eyed maids, at shut of day, Sat, where a river rolled away. With calm, sad brows, and ravon hair, And ono was pale, and both were fair. Bring flowers, they sang, bring flowers un blown, Bring forest blooms of name unknown,' Bring budding sprays from wood and wild, To strew the bier of Love, the Child. Close, softly, fondly, while we weep, His eyes, that death may seem like sleep ; And lay his hands, in sign of rest, His waxen bands, across his breast. And make his grave where violets hide, Where star-flowers strew the rivulet's aide, And blue birds, in the mists of Spring, Of clondless skies and Summer sing. I'la.qie near him, as ye lay him low, His idle shafts, ins loosened bow, The silken band that oft around Hia waggish eyes in mirth he wound; Bui we shall mourn him long, and miss His ready smile, his ready kiss, The patter of his little feet, Sweet froivns, and stammered phrases sweet And graver looks serene and high, A light of heaven in that young eye ; All these will haunt us, till the heart Shall ache—and ache—and tears shall start. The bow, the band, shall fall lo dust, The shilling arrows waste with rust, But he whom now, from sight ol men, Wo hide in earth, shall live again ; Shall break these clods, n form of light, With nobler mind and clearer sight, And in the eternal glory stand With those who wait at God's right hand. From the Albany Dutchman. Cocktails and Peevishness. Peevish people are always unhappy; what they do themselves affording them but little more pleasure than what is done by o'her people. They get up with a growl and they go to bed with the hypo. If it rains, it makes them melancholly ; and if it don't rain, they are in a continual stew about the absence of "cistern water." Asa genoral thing, females are more trou bled with this complaint than the males are ; and among the femoles, there is none who ranks highei in ill-nature than the wife of f our friend Dabster. If he brings her homo a pine-apple, she swears it's done to throw her into the cholera-morbus, and take her from <; them blessed infants while if ho neglects to bring home fruit "when it's in season," she upbraids him' for "a brute," I and insists that he thinks more of "that minx" across the street, than ol his own | flesh and blood. If he asks her to take a j ride, she is sure it's done to "get her out of j the way"by breaking the linch-pin, while ' his neglect to give her an airing, is invaria-1 bly set down to a mean desite to save mon- f ey for his next wife to make a fool of her self with. In short, let Dabster do what he may, his sunshine is invariably clouded with ! his wife's" ill nature. To better his condi tion, he, a shoit time since, formod a con-! nection with a brandy bottle; for, as he pa thetically observed, artificial happinesa is j better than no happiness at all. Some of: our readers, perhaps, wilt think Dabster's ; case is an extreme one, but it ts not. J'here | are scores of women in every community, i whoso husbands have been taught to love rum, not because they admired tho article, but because they could not induce their wives to love them. If constant dropping will wear away stones, constant whining will wear away affection.—Wo caro not how much a man may cherish a woman—if pee vishness cooks his meals and ill-nature shares them, his taste for forbidden calico will get the better of his resolution. How should a peevish wife expect to escape a husband's hate whon she hates herself 1 Let us sing. A PATTERN TEMPERANCE TOWN.—The Bor ough of l'inegrove, in this county, contain | ing a population of 652, has in it four good stores, with a number of shops, in neither of which ardent spirits of any da. scription sold or kept for salo. These li. quors are not sold any where in tho Borough except at the hotels, of which there are three all of them we believe respectable and well kept, with however a comparatively limited sale of liquors. We also have the assurance of one of the principal citizens of PineGrovo, that there is not a ssngle drunkard within Its borders; can this be said of any other town of equal size in the Stato 1 Tins thorough reform has boen effected too, within a very few years, lor wo have it j from tho gentleman above referred to, that all the stores retailed liquors until recently, and that the time was when to iiis knowl edge the annual sales of a single Store in the Borough, amounted to not lets than four Tierces of Brandy, two Hogshead of Rum, two or Gin, two of VVine, and Whiskey almost without limit—while it is supposed that the others sold about the same propor tion . Do not these facts justify us iu presen ting PinegoveJ as a pattern Temperance Town. — Pottsville Emporium. ty* There are fifty-three newspapers and periodicals published in Tennessee, of which twenty-four are whig, thirteen Democratic, nine are religious, three neutral, one agricul tural, one educational, and two temperance. [Two Btiiars per Aknv NT'M ISER 52. ' Frofn the Lycoming Gnsette. OBITUARY, Depar ed thin life, a( liis residdnro, in thO borough of Willlamsport, on Friday, 10th of January, inst., ot discard ofthe heart, JOSEPH B - AUTHOR v, President Judge of the Kighth Judicial District of Pennsvlvania, aged 6.1 years, 6 months, and 22 days. There is a sad and melancholy pleasure arising from the review of the past history of the honest and good man, after he has gono down to rest in the dark valley and shadow of death. With his mortal remains we bury the follies and foibles of life, whilst we cherish with heartfelt solicitude, the ma' ny virtues and excellencies of character possessed by the deceased . liis body dies, and in mourning and sorrow we follow thd sad relic to the house "appointed for all the living." With sad hearts we look down into the grave, until the earth closes froih our eyes the embodiment of all we loved, chetished and esteemed. We itnbue the | grave with our tears, and retrace our steps with heavy hearts to engage in the gav avo cations of life, deeply impressed With the sentimont, wo involuntarily exclaim-—''this is the last of earth." Whilst the man dies, the living recount his amiable qualities, his goodness of heart, his virtues, and regret the absence of their friend from the social board and from tne various circles of life, There was perhaps no individual in our community, more endeared 10 the people a mong whom he lived, on occount of the possession of the various good qualities which compose the statuto of an honest man, than the subject of this unworthy trib ute to his memory. Few of us maintain the abiding confidence of our fellow-citizens, to * greater extent than did JCSEFH B. ANTHO NY. Josdfcn B. ANTHONY was born in the city of Philadelphia, upon the 19th day of June, 1T95. From thence he removed with his parents at an early period of his life to Mer cer county, in the state of New Jetsey, where he received his early education. Whilst young he journeyed to the valley of the West Branch, and for a time, tuught school in Milton, Northumberland county, at which place he studied law ur.der the instruction of that very worthy man, SiUuir. HEPBURN, Esq. Having completed the study of the law, he went to the slate of Ohio, and after an absence of about one year returned to Pennsylvania. In the year 1818 he was adt niittad to die bar of I-learning county, and located himself at Wdliamsport, witef? TIB continued to reside until his death. In tl e year 1830, he was elected by tho democratic party to the Senate of Pennsyl vania, to (ft the vacancy occasioned by the death of thelatnetited Col. ROBERTM'CLURE. In iho year 1834, he war elnated to Congress, and two years thereafter was re-elected to the same post by an unprecedented mojori ily. Dnring the early part of the adminis tration of Gov. Porter, the subject of ocrr no tice was appointed Judge of the Nicholson couit of Pennsylvania, and in March, 1844, was appointed by the same Governor, Presi dent judge of the eighth Judicial District, in the room of Judge DONKEL, then deceased, and like his upright predecessot, continued to dischargo the duties of that office faithfully until the day of his lamented death. It is proper to state, that he held these various important stations, either by election as ilia Democratic candidate, or by appointment under a democratic Governor, and performed the duties of the soveral offices, honestly, fearlessly and impartially. As a man, and as President Judge of tho eighth Judicial District, the writer knew him well. A lover of society, and an aecora plphed scholar, he was the soul of the so cial circle. Possessed of those traits of char, actcr that euduear us, one to tho other—char itable and generous to a fault—he was be loved by the entire community in which he lived As a Judge, guided by stern "integri ty of purpose, he distributed even-hsnded justice with impartiality, whilst his honesty of character won for him tho golden opinions of good men. Impressed with a sense of the mutability of this world, in one of his last moments he exclaimed—"A is folly, it is folly, we must leave il all." Thus has a good and just man gouo down in peace te ihe tomb, enjoying the plaudit of the peo ple—"Well done, good and faithful servant," whilst the hundreds of his fellow-citizens who followed him to his narrow resting placo, are loft to lament his loss and imitate his virtues "The just man dies not, though within the tomb "His waslinar form be laid, mid tears and gloom; "Though many a heart beats sadly when repose "His silvery locks in earth, liko buried snows; "Yet love, and hope, and faith, with heav < enward trust, "Tell that his spirit sinks not in the dust. 'Above, eniraced and glorious, it hath soar-* ed, I "Where all its primal freshness is restored; i "And from all sin released, and doubt, and pain, "Renews the morning of its youth again." W. Go'lMg* A stuttering,Vermonter was asked the way to Waterbury. With great politeness lie strove to say it was right ahead, but in vain. The more he tried, he couldn't.—At last, red in the face, and furious with unavail ing exertion he burst forth with—"Gug, gug, go'long! darn ye! you'll gig, gig, git there afore I can tell ye J" far Goy. Hunt has been inaugurated.