OCR Interpretation

Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, January 24, 1867, Image 1

Image and text provided by Library of Virginia; Richmond, VA

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026941/1867-01-24/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

VOL. 2.
NO. 15
Is pit!Jinked weekly, In/
A-t §2.50 per annum, in advance.
Advertisements will bo inserted at the rati
*>* . Per square often lines or less for the first in
*e«i°n; an<i 50 cents for each insertion thereafter.
Ail notices or communication of a personal or pri
rate character, or which arc intended or calcula
ted to promote private interests, will be charged
as advertisements.
1 square one year...$12
2 ‘‘ “ " “ .... 20
A column “ “ . 30
a “ “ “ 50
1 “ “.00
Agents will add their commissions to these rates
<> paper will be discontinued, except at
the option of the editors, until! all arrearages
have been settled.
Thb Shenandoah Hkkai.p having a large and
rapidly increasing circulation, it is confidently rec
ommended as a medium for advertising surpassed
by no other. It numbers among its patrons those
who are able to buy liberally and pay promptly,
and who rely . principally, upon the Herald as a
Dtininess Directory.
Business Cards.
MOSES WALTON also practises in Warren and
Page Counties.
E. S. Land Warrants wanted, if furnished by
10th of August, 1866, at a fair price.
Any arrangements tirade with A. G. Walker in
relation to such warrants will he satisfactory.
July 20th, 1806.
T C. McKAY, *
PRACTICES in the courts of Shenandoah and
Warren counties.
January 12, 1866-tf
Having resumed the practice of Medicine, re
spectfully of lei s his professional services to the pub
lic. Office at his residence, opposite the Female
Seminary. Oct. 4.
Oilers his professional services to the citizens of
Mount Jackson and vicinity. [Oct. 11—Jmp.
his sv
on ic
. C4. M. 150RUM having resumed the
iracticv of his profession, respectfully-offcrs
rices to the public. Teeth inserted on the
anised Rubber Rase.”
e at his residence on Main Street.
4, Foia.-y
f} a Has resinned business, ar Ins Ag-'ija'FT
old stand, and is now ready to turn- ~ry£
isli NOW WO UK to order, and is '. */
prepared to do REPAIRING OF
ALL KINDS or th .> shortest notice and on reas
onable t *nns. Lie respect !'uHy returns his thanks
to his old customers, and still solicits their pat
October 11, 1805.
This popular Hotel has been newly tlted up. and
the proprietor is now prepared lor the ■ entertain
ment of the traveling public. This is the only
Hotel in the town that was kept open during the
war : all oth-rs were closed, to the exclusion of
trav elers. The proprietor feels that he has some
claim, from this fact, upon those who visit or pass
through our 1) -autirul Valley. H ■ has an abut: dance
of GRAIN & HAY for horses, having a large and
commodious stable, and experienced ostler. His
table is always furnished with everything desir
able to the most fastidious. In short, his best ef
forts will be used to make his house always a
PLEASANT HOME to ail who may be pleasd to
stop with him. lie feels it unnecessary to say a
word to his old patrons. The treatment they have
heretofore received at his house is a suriiciem
guarrantee of a continuance of their custom.
Oct. 4. 18C5. H. S. G. ALBERT.
rpHLS well known Hotel has been remodeled,
| repainted and papered in handsom 1 style,
and is now open for the reception of visitors and
boarders : it-^ healthy location, and nearness to
Burner’s White Sulphur and Orkney Springs,
will make it a. pleasant and healthy summer re
treat in the Valley. During the late war it was
one of the most popular Hotels in Virginia, on ac
count of being always plentiful provided. Charg
es moderate. The subscriber will spare no pains to
make it a pleasant home to all who may favor him
with their patronage. Terms moderate.
F. SCHEFFER, Proprietor.
June 7, 1866—6m.
Corner Market and Water Streets,
The above House has been re-opened, and the
proprietor solicits a share of the public patronage.
Ntages and Oinnibusse> will convey passengers to
and from the House. LEVI T. GRIM,
Nept. 27—lv. Proprietor.
NfAV Market, Shenandoah County, Va.
JOHN MoQUAIDE, - - Proprietor.
riMlIS House having recently been re-furnished,
| is now open for the accomodation of the public.
Dec.4, 1866—tf.
John A. Saum & Bro.,
Plain and Japanned Tin Ware,
IrVDINBUIiG. VA., have on h ind a stock o
j goods in their line, which they will sell for
cash or country produce as low as they can be
had elsewhere in the Valley of Virginia.
Hoofing «fc Spouting promptly executed
and satisfaction guaranteed. Orders from
country merchants tilled at lowest wholesale pri
ces. * [Edinburg. June 21. lSGG-y
J am now prepared to execute -.-very description
of Plastering, the building of Chimney Fines, &c.
J ask mv friends to give me a call.
April' 5, 1SHC. E. C. HAAS.
Second-hand Clocks and Second-hand
gcales bought and sold. Get. t,
CtRACK MRS AM) CHEESE kept-constantly
/on hand at the Uh;_- :--I). < GO
Baltimore Advertisements.
Pianos. Pianos.
1st Premium Grand and Square
I factories—8+ and 8C Camden Street, and 45
and 47 Perry Street: Warerooms—No.
7 X. Liberty St., above Balto. St.,
Baltimore, Maryland.
Our New Scale Pianos, with the Patent Agraffe
Treble, are now pronounced by the best Amateurs
and Processor? to be the best Pianos now uianuf'ac
tured ; we warrant them tree of every fault, for
five years, and the privilege of exchanging with
in twelve months, if not entirely satisfactory to
the purchaser.
V-fL-Second Hand PIAXON always on hand
from §50 to $300.
Mvlodeons and Parlor Organs from the best
JE£r'A\ e refer to the following parties who have
our Pianos now in use :
Con. R. E. Lee, Washington College. Lexington: i
(ion. Robert Ransom. YV iimington, X. Carolina :
Samuel Moore, Chas. Moore. G. W. koseuberger,
Chas. !•.. Rice, Mrs. M. J. Moeui, Dr. P. Be lew,
Jotm V issler, and Jas. L. Miller, Shenandoah.
Terms liberal. A call is solicited.
December 9’ '6(1—1 v.
L"ath'~r & SIica Findings,
Xo. 10 S. Calvert Street, Baltimore, Maryland
FE HAVE on hand a good selection of SHOE
V $ FIXDIXGS and LEATHER, such as
Sj anish, Slaughter and Hemlock Sole,
Skirting, French and American Calf-Skins,
Kips. Splits, ButfPatent Leather, Moroceo,
Sheep Skins. Kid Skins, Enamelled
Leather, Lasting . Galloons, Webbs, Laces; also
Shoe Tools, Lasts, Sowing Machines, Ac.,
which we will sell at the lowest market prices.
All orders from the Country promptly attended to.
May. 17,’CC—Iv 1G ,S. Calvert St.. Balto.
B e t w e e n C h a r 1 e s a nd L i). city Streets
B A L T I M O R E .
Hair Braids.. Bandeauxs. Curls, Wigs, Ac.
Tcnli i Articles. Fancy Goods, Perfumeries. Combs,
Brushes. Ac. ‘ '
May 37. 1866— ly.
The Monumental Book Store.
Ac. 178 Is. Haiti more St., Baltimore, Md.
Ret till dealer in
4 R Tit ’L ES,
Fhoirnjrajjh Albums rf' Gavel*.
^jg^Send tor our wholesale price circular.
ARum Oard.s and Large Photographs of
all Prominent Southerners. Wholesale and
ree tail.
^gfSend for a list. [May 3. IRGO-y
fit a r n*•*!«•»%fi
soa w £'i i* <T & Ci a a
T?» /v ••" r a '5 -J -» r- > i T. .«- T*-«
!> i -4 ±<a Jjj jL ir li A lYI Jaj
J-: A T ' TJ 7? / 0 r; TJ T? 2 t*.
No £(!. Li.Xi . G’i uN STREET, near Charles St.
May, 17, 1= (■<:—ly.
v B"A II E,
Boots, Shoes, JiatssCops, <& Straw Goods,
No. 322 v, st Baltimore Street, Baltimore.
X. 11 ARE wii give special attention to the pur
chase of (roods, wares, merchandise, Ac., for coun
try merciia:its and others, for a small commission
He respectfully solicits their orders. [Octll’Go
One Door South of Baltimore Street.
T) especially invites the citizens of Woodstock,
j V and the \ alley to call and examine his large
and extensive assortment of
F 1 N E B OUTS., S II 0 E S & G A I T E R S,
For gen tie men. ladi s and children, all of the best
quality and selling at reduced prices.
Wholesale and lietaii.
No. 2, S. Calvert St.
June, 7-ly. Baltimore, J/d
| Guns. Pistoles, Fowling and Fishing Tackle,
Pocket Cutlery, Ac.
239 Baltimore St., Baltimore, Md.
apr IS 1S««—ly
Empire Shuttle Sewing Machines
Are superior to all others for
Contains all the iat. st improvements; are spee
I dy ; ncis ■!<■<-■: durable: and easy to work.’
; Illustrated Circulars Toe. Agents wanted. Lib
oral discount allowed, No consignments made.
Add; i. EMPIRE S. M. CO., Broadway, N. Y
! jlv 19, ’t>6—lv,
G’ j KAA PER YEAR ! we want Agents
Kis J jt/lfU everywhere to sell our uipnovKD
$2u Sewing Machines. Three new kinds. Under
and upper feed. • Sent on trial. Warranted five
years. Above salary or large commissions paid.
The ONLY machine sold in United States for less
than S*ib, v.iiich arc fullo hccu-cd bj ffoirc, HTee
ler <(• h ilioii, Grovpr <! linker, i>i>u/er <P Co,,
uv<J Jirifhdd'.r. AH other cheap machines are i»
fruigm •»tn and the seder or user are heible to or
nut, and impri oniiient. Illustrated circulars
sent;;Address, or call upon Shaw & Clark,
at Biddelhrd. Main, or Chicago, IB,
May 31, IsUii—ly.
Boot and Shoe-Maker,
XITOLI/D inform (lie public that bo is now
' . t i, prepared to execute all description: ot'woik
in Ins lino with despatch and neatness. The
: cash, or : is equivalent iu trade, must be delivered,
I 'n oases, before the work leaves (lie shop,
j llis shop is at his father’s at west end of town.
| Dec. 6, lKM—lm
A. i\ Mering & J. T. Grayson,
| Fruit and Ornamental Trees,
Address, witli good reference,(r.o othc-rs need
applv.) A. F, MKitlNU & CO.
! Winchester, \ra..
, Or call upon ns at our Ofiice, on Water, St.
Deo. ia. isue-.ly.
A a e.vti a Into. CdSiimerFor ■ ale bv
- Oft. is. C. D. A CO.
I stand before thee, Rimmer,
And as thy chosen wife;
Give your honor to my keeping,
As 1 give my own to thee.
Wind no rosy veil about me,
My actual self to hide ;
As a Real—not Idea!—
Look upon your future bride.
You smile at my odd fancies—
Smile—but know me as 1 am,
Or our voices ne’er can mingle
In the holy marriage psalm.
You flatter me. gay Rimmer,
You call my eyes sky bright !
Have you seen the blue skies darken
At falling of the night ?
You vow my cheeks are petals
From living roses rent;
Ah, the roses wither, Rimmer,
When the summer shine is^ent!
There ! my unbound hair you’re calling
Golden eddies of the morn !
Do you know the dawn-waves whiten
When the yellow sun is gone ?
If you hive me, if you trust me,
Erring human, as you see ;
Give your honor to my keeping,
As I give my own to thee.
My life I cast before thee,
Its pages lie unclasp’d;
Read from Alpha to Omega,
Judge the future by the past.
Can’st thou mete as 1 have measured
Truth as boundless as the sea ?
Speak ! my heart will not be broken—
Ha ! ’tis glorious to be tree 1
Oli, forgive me, wayward Rimmer !
No love nor faith 1 lack ;
But the wedding robes are holy
As the coffin’s solemn black !
Our souls are God’s, not ours—
My heart is all 1 bring ;
Lift me higher, Royal lover !
1 crown thee—Oh, my King !
J. M. P.
Mr. Benjamin F. Derby returned to
town, and went to his lodgings at Mrs.
Covey’s rather sooner than was expected.
It was late in the evening, and having on- !
tered by means of his night key, and find- ;
ing nobody stirring he walked leisurely up j
to his room.
This was the apartment Mr. Derby had
always occupied in Mrs. Covey’s house;
but on this occasion it seemed to him very
little like home. Before leaving town lie
had carefully put away all his clothes in
his trunk, and during his absence other
revolutions had been made in the room,
which gave it a different air.
Not the least disagreeable thing in the
room was the darkness. Mr. Derby had
entered without a lamp, expecting to find
•that desirable article in the old place.—
But knocking over an ink bottle, a vase,
and a snuff-box, in his blind search he con
. eluded that the wisest course would be to
go to bed in the dark.
In no very good humor Mr. Benjamin
F. Derby began to undress. To return
home after an absence of two weeks, and
to be obliged to go to bed in such a dis
mal manner almost broke his heart. He
might have rung for a servant, it is true,
and he might have reflected that his friends
were excusable, since they did not expect
him ; but Mr. Benjamin F. Derby chosed
to be angry and silent.
“And where is Margaret Maria?” mut
tered the unhappy man. “Oh, faithless
daughter of an uufeeling landlady ! I did’nt
expect this of you. When I tore myself
from your arms two weeks ago, you pro
tested with tears in your eyes and perfidy
in your heart, that you would watch with !
| the anxious eyes of love for my return. |
j Oh, this looks like it! Even now, I know
you are making yourself merry with some
fresh conquest, or if you are sleeping un
der this roof, you are dreaming of pleas
ures of which I have no share.”
So saying, Mr. B. F. Derby threw his
trowsers on a chair, and began to grope
his way in the darkness to the head of t he j
bed. At this moment a merry laugh close j
to his chamber door, startled him. Mr. j
Derby paused.
“Margaret Marias laugh, by all that is j
false,” groaned Mr. Derby. “She said j
she should do nothing but sigh and weep j
during my absence—and hear her! ah,
she laughs again ! The false hearted—.”
Mr D’s reflections were suddenly in
te! rupted by the sound of a hand grasping
his door latch. With considerable trep
idation he flew to lock the door, but before
he could reach it, a merry laugh, a blaze
of light, and two girls burst into the room.
Now Mr. D was a very modest person
and it was a lucky circumstance for him
that the closet door stood ajar, the retreat
convenient, and his limbs active. He
dodged out of sight before the girls had
time to ea*t their eyes about, (hem ; and
soon the door was shut, and Mr. D/s ears
pinned back.
“What time do you suppose it is?” ask
| ed Margaret Maria “There, the bells
! are just striking twelve ! Oh, ain't we
| had a gay time, Susan ?”
“Gay euough,” was Susan’s reply—
' “Ha ! ha ! but wonld’iit your poor, dear
j absent Derby be amused if he knew ?—”
| “Ha ! ha !; ha! laughed Margaret Ma
; ria. M v poor, dear, absent Derby !—
1 That is too good !, Jf he knew,-poor fel
low, it would break his heart. He thinks
I do nothing but sigh and cry during his
absence. Am I such a goose ?”
“Such a goose ! Oh ! oh !” groaned
Derby, painfully interested.
“Such a gooseechoed Susan. “He
would’nt think so if he had seen you eat
ing oysters with Dan Robbins.”
“I only hope that he will keep away a
week longer,” added Margaret Maria.
“So that we can occupy his room ?”
“No—not exactly that—but Dan has
invited me to go to a- ball on Thursday
night, and you know I could not go if my
poor, dear, absent Derby should come
back in the meantime.”
Derby was trembling with cold and
“You mean to marry Derby, then ?” I
asked Susan.
“I suppose I shall,” cried Margaret
Maria, gaily. “1 like to flirt with Dan, I
and if he had as many dollars as my poor j
dear, absent Derby—”
“You would choose Dan ?”
“To be sure I would. He ain’t such a
fool as—”
“Derby—ha! ha! But what is this?
A coat—a pair of pantaloons.”
“Goodness gracious ! how did they
come there ?”
Derby was trembling with excitement—
burning with rage ; but now he felt anew
source of uneasiness. The discovery of
his pantaloons might lead to the discovery
of himself. Had he been dressed, be would
have liked nothing better than to confront
the perfidious Margaret Maria—but for the
present it was not to be thought of. He
felt himself blushing all over, in spite of j
the cold. To his relief, howevef, the girls, 1
after making themselves sure that there j
was nobody in or under the bed, did not !
seem disposed to inquire into the mystery
of the pantaloons. Margaret Maria ex
“I’ll tell you what I will do, Sue. I
will dress myself in these clothes, and go j
into the widow Slade’s room. She’ll think j
its a man, and won’t she bo frightened ?” i
“Frightened ? No,” cried Susan. ‘‘She )
has had two husbands. But do it. See j
what she will say.”
“I will. There, help me, Sue. Ila! ha!
And here’s a hat. too. How kind in some
body to leave all his clothes in here.”
Derby—poor, dear, present Derby—was
breathing very hard. He knew his worst
fears would be realized.
“Oh, ain’t it a fit ?” cried Margaret
A moment after, the girls had lett the |
room. Derby stole quietly from his hiding j
place. A happy thought struck him. j
He enrobed himself in-Margaret Maria's
clothes ana followed them.
During this time tlie girls had gone to.
Mrs. Slade’s room. The widow was a lit
tle frightened at first, but took things coolv
when she was convinced that it was not a
They next proceeded to the attic where
the other girls were sound asleep. Jane
Wood was aroused by a shower of kisses.
She uttered a faint scream, and demanded
in a whisper “who are you?”
“Hush,” said Margaret Maria.
Jane hushed accordingly, and saw the
strange figure go to the other girls, and be
stow kisses which were succeeded by
screams, when the figure retreated.
Susan caught up the lamp, ran in, and
enquired the meaning of all the fuss.
“There has been a man iu the room,”
they replied.
Susan was very much astonished, of
course ; and the girls were all very indig
nant, and not one of them would confess
that she had been kissed, but the marks of 1
Margarert’s charcoal moustache were too I
plain. Susan called the strange figure in, !
when there was a great deal of laughin g, [
and Margaret Maria, having gallantly I
kissed them all again, set out to go down
But now it was Derby’s turn to have a
little fun, and Margaret Maria’s to be as- 1
tonished. As Susan advanced, the lamp !
site carried revealed a frightful looking oh- j
ject standing at the foot of the stairs. It j
was apparently a woman of gigantic struc- j
ture ; her dress was so short that her bare !
feet and ankles could be seen distinctly, and
she waived her large bony hand at the teri
fied girls, majestically as a ghost. Never
were two mischief makers more frightened
by an apparition. Susan dashed herself
against the wall. Up went a scream and
down came the lamp. The oil covered the
stairs, and Margaret Maria fainted and
stepped into it. At that moment the tall
woman—being Derby himself—cried—
“Robbers, help, murder,” at the top of
his voice, and immediately stepped into
his room and locked the door after him.
Before Margaret Maria recovered her
scattered senses, all the boarders were astir.
feusan ran into Mrs blades room, and
Margaret would have followed her, but
Susan, in her terror, shut her out. Next
Margaret tried her mother’s door ; -and her
mother, hearing the alarm, appeared at
that moment, and terrified at the coal
moustache and smashed hat, took her own j
daughter f r the robber, dropped her lamp j
and screamed fearfully. Margaret as j
much frightened as herself, would have j
caught her in her arms, but Mrs. Covey,
who would hear no explanation, nor allow
her to approach, pushed her out ef the |
room with great trepidation. Then Mar- j
garct ran to Derby’s room, which to her
eonsternatihn, she found locked. At that
moment Ned Perkins—the boldest fellow
in the house—rushed out of his room with
a lamp in one hand and his sword cane in
the other, ready drawn for combat. Ned
flew at the supposed robber, and would
have seized her in an instant if she had not j
properly seen fit to faint at the sight of I
the sword, and fallen down in front of Mr. j
Derby’s room/ Her lmt came off, her hair I
streamed down her neck, and Ned recog- |
nized Margaret Maria.
Anybody can imagine the scene of con- !
fusion which followed. The imprudent ;
girl found herself surrounded by a dozen j
half dressed figures, some laughing, some •
wondering, and some trembling with ter- !
ror. But it was the severest cut for Mar
garet Maria, when the door of Derby’s
room opened, and the tall apparition ap
peared. As soon as the screaming subsi
ded, the figure removed its veil. #
“Don’t be frightened, Margaret Maria,
its nobody but poor, dear, absent Derby.
That’s all.”
Can you fancy her feelines ? Derby
could, as he entered his room again, lock
ed the door, and went to bed overjoyed by
what had occurred. He slept soundly, and
awoke the next morning as completely
cured of his love for Margaret Maria as if.
be had seen her transformed into a grizzly

Of all sad wards whether written or spoken, the
saddest is this “Lost.” It comes echoing from the
past » requiem for the days of youth, the sunlight
of life’s morning, the hopes that were born in the
summer, and died before the autumn leaves with
ered. Who ha? lost from their lift;-casket some
treasure that seemed not half so precious until it
was missed from heart and home.
We remember a fair sail that went out to sea
amid sunlight and'song, freighted with living
gems, the young and hapjA', the hopeful and the
brave. Our prayers followed them like a bene
diction, and their names were murmured day by
day with holy words and thoughts of heaven.
Alas for us, vain was our watching, powerless
our love to win them back ! “Lost at Sea” ! amid
storm and darkness the ship went down, and with
it those who were the joy of many a home.
Lost time, lost hopes, lost wealth, lost friends.
Jewels missing from the chain of every life, rob
bing it of half its brightness.
Looking back upon the days gone by when all
was bright, we can scarcely understand how we
could have changed so sadly. Life is not what it
was. earth is not what it seemed.
We have known sorrow, watching and care.
We have wept over new made graves—we have
seen the strong man bowed, the warrior vanquish
ed. the hope of a proud nation fallen.
We hear the happy laugh and merry songs of
little children, wonderipg if we were really like |
them in our childhood’s days of joy. It seems very |
far away that brighter day and this which has ■
brought to u? so much of grief.
Time softens every sorrow, and it is well, for
were it otherwise life would bean intolerable bur
den. But the heart cannot if it would 'forget.
Amid gatherings of joy, at the bridal, and the
feast, when the Christmas bells are ringing a mer
ry peal—when the Old Year wanes, we think with
a chastened sadness of our missing treasures and
go forth again to the battle of life, more pure for
having worshipped where once knelt our loved and
Lost, only for a time—Beyond the swelling riv
er, bending from golden heights, waving white
hands, they beckon us in dreams. “Pass’d, not
lost ! Gone, not forgot !”
Southern Literary Institute, Bait. Nov. 25, ’66.
Making Others Happy.
A mother who was in the habit of asking her
children before they retired for the night, what
they had done to make others happy, found her
two twin daughters silent. The question was re
peted. “I can remember nothing good all this
day, dear mother ; only one of my schoolmates
was happy because she had gained head of the
class, and 1 smiled on her, and ran to kiss her : so
she said I was good. That is all, dear mother.”
The other spoke more timidly “A girl, who sat
with me on the bench at school, has lost a little
brother. 1 saw that, while she studied her less
on, she hid her face in her book and wept. I felt
sorry, and laid my face on the same book and
wept with her. Then she looked up and was com
forted, and put around my neck : hut I do not
know why she said 1 dons her good.” “Come to
my arms, my darling !” said the mother “rejoice
with those that rejoice, and weep with those that
weep, is to obey our blessed Redeemer!”
A colored man who bad stuck io rebel General
Hood through thick and thin, and was in hopes of
being able to march into N ash vile and pay his re
spects to a lady of the upper-crust of the colored
society when he discovered that the besieging
army was retreating, determined to break through
the lines and throw himself upon the mercy of the
Yankees. He presented himself to General Thom
as, hat in hand, when the following dialogue en
sued :
“Where are you from ?”
“I’sejest from de army, sah.”
“What army?”
“Mr. Hood’s army, sah.”
“Where is Mr. Hood now ?”
“He is leavin’, ’ he’s Imvin.”
“Ah! I thought M”. Wood, as you call him was
coming into Nashville.”
“No sah ; Mr. Hood, thinks he can’t do j
hisself justice in Nashville ?”
Stevens id, tn the House of Representatves,
on Tuesday r
“I deny that this government has ever been a
republic. 1 deny that the State of Pennsylvania
has ever been a republic, and l wish this Congress
would take it in band and make it a republic.
Ought not Stevens to confine his attention to
Pennsylvania and get her straight before overflow
ing the South ? Look at her last Senatorial elec
tion for example—what could be more disloyal?
The Southern press have put Butler down to a j
great degree, and he indebted for present atten
tions mainly to Northern editors. Here is one of
the last,—which we take from the New Haven
Register :
How bravo a soldier Butler was,
Let this one fact reveal.
That even silver spoons and forks
Were worthy efhis steal.
There is a round number of patriots in Con
g reas—10)
Virtue.—The creation of the sculptor may
moulder in the dust—the wreath of the bard may
wither—the throne of the conqueror may be shiv
ered by an opposing power into atoms—the fame
of the warrior may be no longer hymned by the
recording minstrel; but virtue—that which hal
lows the cottage and sheds a glory around the pal
ace, shall never decay. It is celebrated by the
angels of God—It is written on the pillars of heav
en and repeated down to earth. The rock break
er who possesses it is more noble than theintrigue
ing statesman.
I would rather be in his place—I would rather
have the inward glory with which the poor man
is crowned, than overshadow the world with mar
tial banners. I would not exchange his lot for the
reputation o!' a Byron the eloquence ofa Mirabeau,
or the intellect of a Bacon. I be dispised
here—but I possess it, then I shall tower, above
them all, when the guilty shall tremble in their se
cret places, as they behold the heavens roll to
gether as a scroll.
-«• --
Jewish Love for the Holy Land.—As an ex
ample of the fervid religious attachment of the
Jewish population to the Holy Land, in which they
believe the chosen people are one day to be gath
ered, the case of a destitute young widow is men
tioned, who had wealthy relations in Germany,
and whom it was proposed to assist in returning
to them. She declined the offer with gratitude,
but with an enthusiasm worthy of Sir Walter
Scott’s Rebecca. “God has granted me the high
privilege of living to breathe the5 hallowed atmos
phere of the land of our forefathers, Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob ; He lias caused his grace and
mercy to descend upon me, bv bringing me. when
an infant, unto this sacred spot, whence the radiant
glory of His divine law emanated. He has per
mitted me to tread on that hallowed ground on
which our Phrophets and teachers lived, and I
would rather starve, together with my children,
while kissing the dust in the Holy City of Jerusa
lem, than live in plenty elsewhere.
Noble Wobds.—A bankrupt merchant return,
ing home at nigrht, said to his wife :
“My deai', I am ruined ; everything we now
have is in the hands of the Sheriff.”
After a few moments silence, his noble wife look
ed him calmly in the face, and said :
" “Will the Sheriff sell you ?”
“Will he sell me ?”
“Then don’t say we have lost everything. All
that is most profitable to us—manhood, woman
hood, childhood. We have but lost the result of
our skill and industry. We can soon make anoth
er fortune if our hearts and hands are left us.”
Moss on Flower Pots.—Ladies who are fond
of cultivating flowers in the house, will find great
benefit to the'plants by spreading a coating of moss
over the earth in their flower pots. This keeps the
water from evapora ting. and the temperature more
uniform. Tea-ground.-- are often used for the same
purpose. Where a ti<over-pot sets in a sancer,
with a hole in the bottom of tne pot, put a little
sand in the saucer and cover it with moss, and you
have a simple and admirable arrangement.
Fros'ed limbs, it i a n >ue;d are permanently re
lieved bv one or two applications of a boiled lye of
wood ashes, made so strong as to he quite slippery
between the fingers. This lye should settle, be
drained off, and have a large handful of common
salt to each quart of lye mixed with it. It should
be quite warm, and the limbs be submerged for
one or two hours.
Old Coo >er is a Dutchman, a id, like many anoth
er, of whatever nationality, has a wife thatis ‘Some.’
One day the old man got into .some trouble with a
neighbor, which resulted in a fight. The neigh
bor was getting ihe better of the old man-who was
resisting bis antagonist to the best ability, when
his wife broke out with—"Lie still, Cooper, if he
kills you I’ll sue him for damages !”
Wiggins was one day with a friend,
when he observed a poor dog that had been
killed lying in the gutter. Wiggins paus
ed, gazed at the dead animal and at last
said, ‘‘Here is another shipwreck.”
“Shipwreck! Where?” There's a bark
that’s lost forever.” llis companion
growled and passed on.
Those who have paid much attention to
that subject, and are experienced in the mat
ter. say there is as much significance in kiss
ing as there is in shaking hands. It is
said that a kiss on the forehead indicates ad
miration and respect; on the cheek, beau
ty ; on the nose, that the kissing is awkward;
on the hand, coldness; ou the lips, love;
on the chin, foolishness A short one indi
cates fear and an appreciation of “Paradise
Lost.” A long one, square on the mouth,
indicates devotion and a huge appreciation
of “ Paradise Regained.”
A Good Description.— A pious
divine of the old school says: “A drunk
ard is the annoyance of modesty, the
trouble of civility, the caterpillar of indus
try, the tunnel of wealth, the ale-house
benefactor, the beggar’s companion, the
constable’s trouble, the woe of his wife, the
scoff of bis neighbor, his own shame,
(lie picture of a beast, and the monster of
a man.”
An old hotel-keeper in Washington, once
posted on his. dining-room door the follow
ing notice:—“Members of Congress will go
to the table first, and then the gentlemen.
Rowdies and blaekgu irds must not mix with
the Congressmen, as it is hard to tell one
from the other.”
Euclid, a disciple of Socrates, having of
feEKted Ids brother, the latter cried out in a
rage, ‘ Let me die if I am not revenged on
you some time or other.” Euclid replied,
“And let me die if I do not soften you by my
kindness, and make you love me as well aa
It is a pity tf t character, like the hair doe&
not grow white--with age.
Thin Man.—liny, what’s that hungry looking
clog following me for?,
Insokmt Bov.—Reckon he thinks yon are a bom.
Young mcti should set good examples, for t
young- women are always following tham.

xml | txt