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THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
W. 11. JA€OB¥, I'roprietcr.] VOLUME 11 I'UBLISUED EVKHV WEDNESDAY Br tt'M. 11. JICOBV, Office on Main St., 3rd Square below Market, TERMS:—Two Pollnrs per annum if paid within six months from the time of subscrib ing: two dollars and fitly cts. if not paid with in tlm year. No subscription taken for a less period than six months; no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages are paid, un less at the option of the editor. The leims if ailveilisiug will be n> follows : One square, twelve lines, three times, SI 00 Every subsequent insertion, 25 One square, three months, 3 00 One year 8 no £I)o i£ e jJoe tr n. HIE CHORE. There's b entity everywhere I go, There's beauty everywhere— Atnid the country wood, and lanes, And the city thoroughfare. The rising sun is beautiful, And radiant in its light; The moon shines out in splendor, Midst the stillness of the night. The city domes rise bold antid Surrounding scenery, Like conquerors with glory crowned, Returned from victory. The ocean waves dance merrily, Like diamonds sparkling bright: The mountain tops are lipped with gold, Bathed in a'flood of light. The birds sing sweetly as they fly Amid the greenwood trees; The busy ants are toiling on, And merrily hum the bees There's music to the soul in this, There's bean y everywhere, In summer or in autumn, Or the spring time of the year. There's beauty in the' Winter, When the snow is on the ground, When north winds whistle shrilly, And icicles are found. When Christmas comes again once more, And absent Iriends return, And gather round the social hearth To see the yule log turn : When mistletoe and holly deck Our walls in robes ol green : Oh, Christmas is as happy u time As SHV 1 have seen. But there's something far more beautiful Than aught that's mentioned here, Than city, cout.lry, wood, or grove, Or seasons of the year— More beautiful than ocean, Tho mountains, or the vale, The sun in all its glory, Or the moonbeams sinning pale. Oh, the brightest beauty in the world Is a kind and gentle smile Which from a loving heart proceeds, Am! gladdens earth awhile. It cheerivlhe and desolate, 'Tis sunshine to the souL It sheds a ray of kindly lu^py, A wounded heart makes whole Oh, could I choose a boon Irom Heaven, 1 know what it would be ; Not honor, riches, glory— But a loving heart for me. A CHARMING CREATURE. —A young clerk has been for the lust lour years employed in the counting-house of I'aris, a merchant, in the Spanish trade. This latter has a niece brought up in Spain, and an orphan. She is not beautiful, but refined and intelligent. At balls which she attended here, the past winter, escorted by Iter uncle, she danced but little , the truth being that she was sel dom invited, except when the young clerk chanced to be present and offered the civilly of requesting her to be his partner in a qua drille. It was thus that their acquaintance was made and ripened. A fortnight ago the clerk obtained per mission from Mademoiselle Fabricia to de mand her hand in marriage from her guar dian, his employer. The latter seemed surprised, and received the proposal with coolness. However, after a long consulta tion with his niece, he gave his consent, and the marriage look place as soon as the ne cessary formalities could be accomplished. Two days subsequently, at breaklas", the young bride, observing the discontent of her husband at being obliged to return to his business so early in the honeymoon, said, "Well, don't go to-day. Don't go any more!" "Not go to the counting-house, my love ! That is easy enough to say, but " "It is easy enough to do, also." "Indeed! how so ?" "Nothing more simple in the world. I have a million and a half of fortune ! In my apparently modest position I determined to choose a husband with a good heart. Do you blame me?" The gentleman's reply is not recorded. A BAD BRIDCK. —The Cincinnati Nonpareil tells this:—On the upward trip to Dayton, on Saturday, we noticed in the cars a gen tleman and lady seated in close juxta-posi tion, and judging from their conduct, one would imagine that they were exceedingly intimate. In front of the comfortable pair, eat two gentlemen, editors of two German papers in this city. When near Dayton, the the train passed through a long, dark bridge. Amid the thundering and rattling of the cart could be heard a noise, that sounded |itt *ll the world like the concussion of lips. Bach hearty smacks startled all the parly.— jffi We emerged into daylight, one of the jttaman editors slowly drew his spectacles jjUPB over hit nose, and exclaimed :— "Veil sH&S dat ish a tam bad bridge. I hears liHUt one, two, threo, four times."— 'l iMji drew down her veil, and fot the the trip the pair looked mute attended a ball out West, in short dress and pants. The other ladieSwre shocked. She quiet ly remarked lhatWtt|y would pull up their drescos about the they ought to be, their skirts would be here ! BWOE'OTRC, COLUMBIA WEDNESDAY. AUGUST? 24, 1859-. A DUEL IN J EST. In a grave old German essay upon duel ling, thero is a 6tory somewhat pointless, yet, inasmuch as it is true, worth noting as a picture of chivalry at romps in the year sixteen hundred and nineteen. In Valentia a noble lord whom the dis creet chronicler calls, as he calls all the persons in the tale, by a fictitious name, held a feast at the wedding of his daughter. Being tho eldest knight of his order, he in vited ail his brother knights from far and near to assist at his festival, and there were among the guests many young nobles who were only candidates for investiture. Among these was ono the number of whose ances tors was not greater than the number of the apostels. He was snubbed; and a young braggart, Fracasio who had but two ancestors missing out of a pedigree that went back all the way to bis distinguished father Adam, was epecially merry at the expense of the youth who had only twelve grandfathers to mention. At dinner, Fra- j casio sat near his victim, and in sport threw : into his face a cup of Spanish wine, that drenched the curl out of his hair and spoilt the beauty of his pointed collar. Next to the young man sat a knight who was about to be his brother in-law, being already plighted to bis sister. By this knight the insult was at once repaid in kind. Another cup of wine was thrown at the aggressor.— A friend of Fracasio's who happened to sit at the other table, hurled then his cup of wine at the new combatant, but this in its passage sprinkled no less than six people, who immediately filled their six cups and threw them all at the new champion. The six cups of wine, travelling down tho table, sprinkled many guests, and in a short time there was a general discharge of lull wine from both sides of the table. The lights were quenched. The table was thrown down, the guests struggled with one another in the dark. But all this riot was maintain ed in jest; no knight dishonored himself by the drawing oi a deadly weapon. When the lights were rekindled a general amnesty was declared, the tables were restored, and everybody returned quietly to the celebra tion of the wedding feast except one knight, who had the mouth of a lion and a chick en's fcqart. This knight, Roderick, mingled big threats with the laughter of his comrades He was not to be changed so easily. He never left unpunished a curl who by day light rubbed against his i'lolhes ( in passing, and was htf to forgive ttfose who Crougftt their hands too near him in the dark I It was true that he had not been taken by the throat. But somebody had lain with his nose against the boot-solo. Who was that man ? For he must have his blood. The other knights sought to appease their friend with reasonable and good-natured words.— When these failed they returned to their cups ami paid no further heed to him Roderick stood apart still fulminating a neg lected wrath until at last he also returned to the table and growled as he drank until he had drunk himself into a stupid silence.— Somebody then advised that lie should be carried up to bed. and ho wtis put to bed by his companions. In the morning Roderick awoke some what uncertain as to his position. He slept in the same room with twelve or fourteen other knights of his own rank. They were talking in their beds to one another. He feigned sleep that ho might DO guided in his conduct by their manner of disscussion. They were very charitable to their comrade, as knights ought to be. Their poor friend Roderick was an honest fellow, but he had been troubled in his cups last night. There was no sword and gunpowder whatever in their mention of him. This caused him to take heart. He had humbled himself by looking like a tipsy braggart, he would give them to understand that if he had used bold words overnight, lie was a doughty man also when he was sober in the morn ing His courage must not at all be set down to the wine cup. Suddenly, therefore he jumped out of bed in visible wrath,threw open the window, ami called to his servant in the courtyard for his sword and pistols. He had been put to bed last night; he would fight the man who degraded him by putting him to bed. His expectation was, .that his friends would as they have done before, entreat him to be reasonable, and that he would according be reasonable after having shone his pluck. But that which had been pitied in Roder ick drunk was despised in Roderick sober. The knights only shrugged their shoulders, and their braggart friend, bound to aci out his part, left them with a terrible air of dis pleasure. "What is this?" they said when he was gone. "Is this endurable? Which of us sent the man to bed ? Who is it that has to fight him ?" "The friend who first suggested sending him to bed was I," said Gaston Cibo. "It was 1 too who lighted him to bed with the leg ol a chair. Fetch me some paper!" So Gaston had pen and paper brought and sat up in his bed to write a challenge of tre mendous length which he was required to read to the whole chamber. It was declar ed to be improperly abusive. It would drive Roderick mad with rage and compel a mortal issue to what ought to be a fight and cool duel ending perhaps with a flesh wound. "1 shall not wet my pen twice for tlm hero," Gasloc said. The challenge therefore was sent, bnt was not opened by Roderick, in the pres ence of the squire who delivered it. I "Greet my Lord Gaston Cibo with all I friendship, and say I will promptly answer," were the words that came back by the mas ; senger. They were followed by a note beginning My dear Brother, wondering at I the offence taken by one to whom no prov j ocation had been given, confessing that the i writer had been on the previous night a beast, accepting Gaston's powerful abuse j as brotherly admonition that he would have j taken from no other man on earth, and i apologizing to the whole compauy of the ! bedroom for his violence that morning,when ! he had not perfectly returned to his sober j senses. ! Gaston would have dismissed the writer | with contempt; while, like a generous old i knight, he wished to suppress the letter.— ; But he had read aloud his challenge, and ] he was compelled also to read aloud the answer to it. Then ho was urged to go to i Roderick and teil him that at least, for ap pearance sake, a little friendly duel was re quired Roderick thought that it might suf- I fice if they both rode out into the woods j without seconds, to fight, and there, instead | of killing one another, killed the time for I half an hour. It was enough to say that , they had fought. Treaty was, however, at | last madejfor a fight with pistols loaded only | with their wadding of roe's hair. Under this compact Roderick went out to battle. All the ladies of the castle were at the window to see the duelists depart. The j coward's secret had not been betrayed to them; and, for the honor of the order, never I was. He was allowed to edify them by , trying his two pistols, by making his horse I rear furiously, and by carrying two spare ! horses, one, as he loudly proclaimed, to | use in the fight if his own steed was shot j under him, one to carry him to 'Andalusia | whet, he had killed his man Ga-tuu, as | challenger, had already ridden forth and i taken his position in the meadow. The knights of the bedchamber, who would not have crossed the threshold to look on at anything so common as an ordi nary duel, kept their distance, andjsuppres sed their laughter as they galloped out with ) their heroic friend, who .little thought that | they were in the secret of his courage.— They formed two sides, but Roderick claim ed buttle without seconds. He was in a fierce mood, he said. A second might do I something to anger him, easily compel him j to a second duel, but lie had ail oath in | heaven against fighting two men in a day. I So the antagonists met, .and, alter a short 1 parjey. in the vouqit coward assure.l himsell that his old friend had notlnr.g har der than roe's hair in his pistols, and that it was they should have beeu changed by auyjaccident, the duel on horse back with , primeval pistols was fought much after the manner of the duel oi Gaffer Jobslen, who fired half a nigh'-cap at ins enemy and covered him with buff, but re ceived in return a bladder of pigs blood that made a murdered man of him before the eyes of all beholders. There is nothing very clever in the story as a story, but, as a record of lite good old time, it shows pleasantly how the rough behavior of a brotherhood of knights was seasoned with a restricted sense of courtesy and of the duty of forbearance towards one another. Judged by that modern standaru which we are so often warned against ap plying to the measure of our forefathers, the knight of old was an odd mixture of the ruffian and the gentleman. Our Changing Climate. Washington Irving speaks of our climate in the following terms: Here let ns say a word in favor of those vicissitudes of our climate which are too often made subject of excessive repining. If they annoy us, they give us one of the most beautilul climates in the world. They give us the brilliant sunshine of the south of Europe, with the fresh verdure of tho North. They float over summer sky with gorgeous tints of fleecy whiteness, and send down cooling showers to relresh the panting earth and keep it green. Our sea sons are full of sublimity and beauty. Whi ter with us hath none of its proverbial gloom. It may have its howling winds and chilling frosts and whirling sr.o'v storms, but it has also its long intervals of cloudless sunshine, when the snow-clad earth gives redoubled brightness to the day, when at night the stars beam with misuse lustre, or the moon floods and landscape with her mosl limpid radiance. Aud the joyous outbreak ol our spring, bursting at once into leaf and blos som, redundant with vegitution, and vocifer ous life; and the splendor of summer, its morning voluptousness and. evening glory, its airy palaces of sun-lit clouds piled up in a deep azure sky : and its gusts ot tem pests of nlmost tropical grandeur, when the forked lightning and bellowing thunder-vol ley from the battlements of heaven shnke the sultry atmosphere; and the sublime melancholy of our autumn, magnificent for its decay, withering down the pomp of a woodland country, yet reflecting back from its yellow forests the golden serenity of the sky. Truly we may well say that in our climate. "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge." ET At a hotel table the other day, a boar der remarked to his neighbor: "This must be a very healthy place for chickens." "Why?" asked the other. "Because I never see any dead ones about." Truth and Riffht God ard our Country. Fighting the Tiger at Chieago -$28,000 Won at ; aro A lew evenings since, while tiie honest and peaceful citizens of this great metropo lis were dozing upon their pillows, and those only waked whom vice or crime kept irom slumber, a curious scene was 'runspir ing in the inner apartment ol one of the mflst fashionable and well known faro banks in this city. The parties present were not numerous. At one side ol the table, and at the right of the dealer, sat a certain well known Kentucky gentleman, now a resident of this city, and very popular as an auction eer Opposite to him were two clerks from dry good stores on Lake street. At the loot of the table were three young gentlemen connected with certain of our city banks, and four professional Uncymeu. The game commenced at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. It was now past 3 o'clock iu the morning, and the contest was kept up with undiminished vigor. Fortune early in the evening had declared for the gentleman on the right of the dealer; and although luck occasionally deserted him, it agair. and again returned, until his winnings were enormous. He had up to this time won 818,000. The perspiration stood in beaded drops upon the brows of the young men, and as they ner vously laid down their counter on the squares, their hands shook with an emotion they could not conceal. Even the practised coolness of the professional gamblers des erted them, and they gnawed their lips in in undisguised anxiety. The Kentucky gentleman suddenly laid down checks to the amount'of 86,C00, and as the dealer be gan to draw out the caJjpiUk >ni the silver box in which they lie, left the table, and walked to the sideboard The cards are dealt, and the 86,000 are lost ! This reduces the winning of the Colonel to $12,000. A temporary cessation ol the gametakesplace. A hasty supper is taken : the Colonel pro poses to play no more The others object: they are firm in the belief that luck has changed, and that they will win their losses which have been fearfully heavy, back again. The Colonel consents, and the game is resumed. It is now five o'clock Day has began to break, but the thick curtains of the apartment keep out tiie strengthening light The young men consult among them- I ! selves. The Colonel won $2,000 again ' He is now winner to the tune of $14.000.' | They have $lO,OOO between iheni. They : J put their funds together, place it in the ifbaicKat-oUP of v-kvi difect $ ; him to play until he loses it all, or until he 1 j wins back what they have already lost j j Ihe game goes on. The Colonel wins sl,ooo—then loses $3,000. Hope springs again in the breasts of the young man Their representative makes a bet of $5 000. I The company gather round with desperate I interest. The cards fall from the box—they j lose I Their funds are reduced to $6,000 j for they have lost some to the bank, beside that paid to the Colonel. And now their i agent bets more cautiously—first sl,ooo— then $5OO. He loses steadily. His last is j reached. He is pale as death—his pallor is I reflected in the faces of his comrades. He I places their last stake on the cloth. The j Colonel doubles it upon the opposite color. I the dealer hesitates—Cut onlyßor a moment j ; The oards are dealt—the Colonel wins the 1 $5OO is shoved over to him. anil $5OO more from the bank—and thejjAiyjs over. The Colonel rises with $28,000 winnings in his pocket. The others leave the table, having lost nearly all that sum—the bank itself coming out nearly even. The next day the fortunate Colonel set-' tied $23,000 upon his wile, and swore off I from the gambling hells. Whether he will j keep his word remains to be seen What the young gentlemen did, who in one night lost $28,000, remains to be seen. but can $28,000 be lost at a single sitting, at such work as this; by such men us these, without serious consequences ? The scene we have related actually did occur. There are plenty ol men who will read those lines, who know how true it is. Is a community in a healthy condition when such things occur. There are nearly a dozen gambling rooms in this city, kept in first We style, and do ing a business like this every night. Their location is well known—they are easily to be louod. The police hate orders not to disturb them, arid they flourish liko a greett bay-tree — Chicago Democrat, July 26'/t t&~ A clergyman wbi>e engaged in cate chismg a nunioor ol boys in a class, asked one ol thetn tor a definition ol matiimony. The reply was:— "A place of punishment where some folks sutler lor a lime before they can go to heaven *' "Good boy," said the clergyman, "take your seat." If "Neighbor, what is the most Chris tain news this morning?" said a gentleman to his friend. "I have just bought a barrel of flour for a poor woman." -• ■vt "Just like you. Who is it that you have made happy by your charify this time ?" "My wile 1" t*' "1 do wish 1 conld be cured of lying in bed so late in the morning," said a lazy husband, turning round upon his pillow.— "Well 1 will try the water-cure," said his wife, pouring a tumbler full over him MT* Why is a married man like a can dle? Because he sometimes goes out at night when he ooghn't to. TIIE COTTAGE DOOIL How sweet the rest that labor yields The humble and tho poor, Where sits the patriarch of the fields Before his cottage door! The lark is singing in the sky, The swallows on the eaves, Arid love is beaming in each eye Beneath the summer leaves I The air amid his fragrant bowers Supplies unpurchased health, And hearts are bounding 'mid the flowers, More dear to liirn than wealth Peace like the blessed sunlight plays Around his humble cot. And happy nights and cheerful days Divide his lowly lot. And whan the village sabbath bell Rings out upon the gale, . The father bows his head to tell The music of its tale— A fresher verdure seems to fill ' The fair and dewy sod, And every infant tongue is still To hear the word of God. O, happy hearts? to Him who stills The ravens when they cry, And makes the lilly 'nea'.h the hills So glorious to the eye— The trusting patriarch prays to bless His labors with increase ; Such ways are "ways of pleasantness," And all such ''paths are peace." French Gaiety in Florence. It is understood that tho French camp here will be broken up before long. Regi ments are leaving and others continue to arrive. The French soldiers appear to be happy and content, and so fnr, very well satisfied with this part of Italy. They are much more lively than the Italians. To wards eveniug the camp is a picturesque and beautiful sight. Dances are improvised, and a variety of games are played. The soldiers sing and smoke, and drink with a relish the red wine of the country, interior to that of their own France. Going over the field one sees, not unlrequently common soldiers sitting in the openings of their tents, reading French journals which have been lent them by the officers, or sent to them by Iriends at home. The lalians ask the soldiers the same question which they put first to all strangers, knowing well enough what the reply will be—"How do you like Italy 1" It ie said that the French soldiers express their admiration ol the beauties of the conu try with so much warmth that it immedi ately sets the natives thinking whether they may not natural y wish to prolong their slay. From the camp the prospect is one of the rnesl ihst is vp in >t>i region ol uncommonly beautilul views.— On one hand, only a few miles distant, is a long range of low mountains, their bases dotted with villas, and their summits swel ling into the sky, until the soft tints of green and gray of the one blend in agreeable bar motiy with the deep and mellow blue of the other. Opposite the mountains are the cool green groves of the Gaseine, and over the trees, at a little distance, are seen the picturesque old towers of Florence. In the evening the great number of little fires kin dled for the very uuromantic purpose of making the pot boil help to increase the interest of the scene. The thin blue smoke floats slowly away, or hangs like a veil over the field. On the whole the soldiers in camp are comfortably placed The French soldier seems determined to be happy in spile of the many drawbacks connected with the slavish life which ail soldiers must lead Poor fellows, they have all our sympathy. They are generous and brave. They love their country, and only too much for mere military glory. They serve faithfully the masters which they find over them. They fight and full like heroes, and our admira tion is won for their noble and unselfish sacrifice, although at first they might have preferred to be left to cultivate their peace ful fields in their much loved France, rather than .moisten with their blood the land of strangers. And then, how many mothers and sisters and brothers are left to weep and wait without seeing their, again. LEAVE YOUK LAND IN GOOD HEART —It should-be the object of every tiller of tho soil to leave his land in good condition after lite removal of a crop, and, at the same time, obtain as much remunerating returns as possible This can be done only by hus banding all the sources of fertility on the farm, aud adding ihereto in every available manner This is the Alpha ami Omega of progressive agriculture. Never boast of a "bank accoutii," if it is obtained at lite ex pense of your farm. THE HAMMER —The hammer is the uni versal emblem ol mechanics. With it are alike forged the sword ot contention and the plowshare or peaceful agriculture In an cient warfare the hammer was a powerful weapon independent of the place which it formed. The hammer is the wealth ot na tions. By it are forged the ponderous en gine anil the tinny needle It is an instru ment of the savage and'the civilized. Its merry cling points out the abode of indus try: is a domestic deity, presiding over the grandeur of the wealthy aiid ambitious. Not a stick is shaped, not a house is rais ed, a ship floats, or a carriage rolls, a wheel spins, an engine moves, a press speaks, a viol sings, a spade delves, or a flag waves without the hammer. BP A German in Cincinnati made abet of SSO that he could drink half a barrel of lager in twenty four hours. Seeing bow he was going on, the other party paid htm SlO to stop and throw up the bet. A Rich Sketch. Take wo now our readers to the romaV tic slopes ol the Alleghanies. The time at which our story opens, is a bright evening in tho month of December. All is peace and happiness! Tho snow ; banks lav piled in fantastic shapes, while I the husbandman gathers the rich ripe grain, i The rattlesnake glides all over the plain : in one place, and the deep solemn notes of the bull-trog are heard in the distance. In the midst ot all this rural happiness stands , the fine old mansion ot Hans Von Snizzle. It is very ancient —indeed, we might say, an extremely antiquated—mansion, built ■ in the most modern and approved style. | It was erected in the year 1340, by Chris j topher Columbus, lor an illustrious auces , tcr 01. Yun Snizzle, said ancesler having narrowly escaped hanging in Faderland i This house was now a model ol archi- I teclural beauty—one side being construc.- ed of mud m the shape of the letter Z, and the other side of pine togs shaped to repre sent something so entirely original that no i one could tell what it was intended for. But the jewel ol this noble mansion was the beautilul Cinderilla Caterine Eugenia Von Snizzle or, as the zealous youths of that fair region of country delighted to call her, "The Trembling fawn of the Alleghan ies." Hers was, indeed, a rare and wonderous beauty I And it was no marvel that she should be beautiful, for she had been deli cately nurtured on sourkrout, pork and slate pencils She had also enjoyed plenty of the best exercise, such as washing dish es, driving the cows to pasture and milking them. Let us now give a brief description of the beauteous maid, our heroine. She had long silk,coloredcuris.about an inch in length, eyes like a bnll-dog's in fly lime, and a nose like a compressed pomegranate. Her complexion was a cross between brick dust and green paint, which, with consid erable dust, made her look extremely sweet, but, at the present moment, she looked utt usuahv beautiful. She was sitting behind the barn playing with a young pig, her bright eyes beaming with pleasure. But look ! Her attention was suddenly drawn from tho gambols of her pet, by the resounding footsteps of an approaching horse. She looks up, and sees, at a little distance, the Skew-eyed Ranger of the Mountains. She trembles with joy as she beholds him ; and truly he well calculated <p e v cile plesysura b!e emotions in the head of any maiden.— He was tall, slim, and well-formed five feet three inches in height, six feet in circunfer ence, and weighed two hundred arid twen ty pound-. He was mounted on a fiery young charger twenty years of age, which could on an emergency go three miles an hour. The youth was armed with a light serviceable ritte, which would discharge one out of ten times, two pistols without triggers or locks, and a case knife of the best cast steel. He was dressed in a fash ionable hunting suit, consisting of calf, brindled colored homespun unmentionables, lorn in both knees, a sheep skin coat, and calico shirt As he espied the blooming maiden, he threw a fat skunk, the produce oi a chase, at her feet, with the exclama tion— "I am luckier than ttsual to-day." In a gentle voico. which sounded as a cracked cow-bell, she reproved him for in curring imminet danger, and at the same time thanked tlim tor the luscious game. The youth was visibly affectd : aud ex clamied, in a strong Dutch accent : •'Neow, Cindy Eugeny Catrina, do you like me so that you should care a snap whether that darned skunk should spoil my clothes and make me sick? Come I'm waitiu' for an answer; tell me, do you lake a shine to mo ?" With frantic eagerness he waited, and finally he was considerably relieved by hearing her affirmative answer of— "1 sholdn't wonder." It was good enough. He gave a cry of joy, and clasped her to his heart. The remainder of this thrilling tale may be found in the " Coal Skuttle of Dia monds," a moral and religions paper pub lished by Rory O Flanigan. Thp date upon which it commences is the 33d of Novem ber, A. D. 1147. In that and following numbers, the event ful life ol our heroine is traced, who, be cause she broke plate while washing dish es. was driven. Irom home by our cruel fa ther ; how her lover subsequently discov ered and married her ; how the day ot re tribution followed for her father, old skin flint Von Snizzle; and how he died, leav ing all his enormous wealth, consisting of an acre of swamp lands, and a counterfeit cent piece, to his daughter. Oilier things 10 numerous to mention, are also related, and we advise all to read it. \YHKW ! —A fly trap, invented by a Yan kee, which costs one dollar, caught in a dining room in a hotel in Manchester, N. H , seventeen hundred Hies in one minute. Cy The latest case of usury is that of the loan of a shirt collar. The borrower was forced to return a shirt! ty ''This world is all a fleeting show,'"' said a priest to a culprit on the gallows.— "Yes," was the prompt reply, "but if you have no objection I'd rather see the show a little longer !" ty Getting aristocratic —The mercury— won't circulate anywhere but among the " upper tens." [Two Dollars per Ainmn NUMBER 38- Industry andjEconumy Unfuslilonnblc. Prudence, economy, care,J and industry are universal labor-saving machines ; they lead\> happiness, wealth, and comfort— Tho practice of these essential virtues, these indispensible habits, ought to bo universally considered as ouejjof the essential objects of a good education. No eduoation can justly be considered n good one that isjnot a useful one; and this result can be accom plished with the greatest and certainty by uniting physical with mental exercise ; by occupying the you'll of both sexes and all ages with some employment suited to their strength, that may bo most useful aud pro ductive to themselves and others, conjointly I with their moral and scholastic instruction ; as the one alleviates by its change and vari ety the fatigue incident to the constant ap plication of the other. It only requires a small portion of atten tion and observation in examining the way by which those who are healthy, wealthy, and wise have reached that enviable posi tion, in order to be convinced cf the vast benefits to be derived Irom the practice of economy and industry, both morally and physically. All mankind must have some occupation, and whether it lends to good or evil, must very greatly depend upon early habits acquired in youth by education, which is thej foundation all our future operations in life. It would afford a useful lesson toTthe ris ing generation in this free country, to recur to the primitive history ofmercantile mat ters in the United States,*Jand see by what policy so large a portion of the commerce ot the civilized world was securedj by our merchants for many years. Where now is the vast wealth that was gained by them ? Ask this "fast" generation which has so to tally and so universally ignored their hardy virtues, their rigid economy, their untiring industry, their pains-taking prudence—and what answer would they give? A few rare instances, striking exceptions to the general rule, may bo found of persons who have saved their profits by care and economy, but the vast majority have wasted what they got, and some of them are reduced to pov erty and suffering. Most of those who are still really rich, owe their wealth and inde pendence to habits of care, industry and economy, which was principally acquired by education ; and a majority of those who have fallen into poverty, owe their unhappy condition to luxury, recklessness, negligence and extraviganco, originating in a vicious, misdirec\etl, and defective education. Lux ury and extravagance force aud thoughtless to borrow money from some one or more of the well.nigh innumerable banks in this country ; the facility with which loans and discounts have been obtained has tempted multitudes to go far beyond their income in their tnode of living, as to rush into ruinous speculations in order to keep up appearan ces to make an show, far beyond what they could afford. This love of show and parade springing from false pride, ori ginated some of the most gigantic schemes of swindling upon record, which ended in the utter ruin of contrivers of them, as well as multitudes of others. The South Sea bubble, Law's swindling banking scheme, &c., &c., originated in this wild spirit of speculation, and though the first inventors of them managed to creep out of those con cerns before the overwhelming crash came, yet they deserved to have suffered in com mon with their credulous dupes, to whom they had sold an empty cheat many a hun dred per cent, above par. "Take care of tl\e ppnnies, the pounds will take care of themselves." The pro verb is old, but it contains volumes of good advice. Old proverbs are said to be tho condensed wisdom of ages, and they ought to be far more valued than the antiquarion rubbish handed down to us from the an cients, about whom a great deal of valuablo time has been wasted to no good purpose. No ojie need to be told that the first hundred dollars are far more difficult to accumulate than the next ten thousand, aud so on. With out being careful of the cents, the first hun dred dollars cannot be save, neither the thousand, nor the ten thousand, can be pos-' sessed; that is, without attention to the cents, pecuniary independence cannot be obtained, and without pecuniary independ ence, in the present state of society, all other independence, indeed freedom itself, is but an empty name to the millions unless it facilitates the acquisition of pecuniary iudepeuder.ee—if not it is a dead letter, a sound without meaning or substance, so far as the interest of the millions is concerned. Few parents are careful enough to teach their children habits of industry and econo my. They are not taught to be useful.— They are careless even as to their clothes ; their habi's of order ore unregulated. They are suffered to grow up heedless and inat tentive to iritlcs, which make up the aggre gate of human happiness. They are allow ed to be indolent, extravagant, good for nothing ; the pernicious error that it is re spectable to be a lazy drone and vulgar to be industrious and useful, parent teach both by theory and practice. In nothing is the tyrant fashion so oppressive in its pernici ous decrees that it is more respectful to live the life of a pauper or robber, than it is to earn the bread by honest toil. IT* It is said that Lord Brougham lately, in a playful mood, wrote the following epi taph on himself: Here, readers, turnd your weeping eyea, My fate a useful moral teaches : The hole in which my body lies Would not contain one-half my speeches'