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PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, BY E. WELLS, JR. EDITOR AND PRO PRIETO U. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. For one year, if paid within six months, sl-50 “ “ if not paid within six months, 2-00 Advertisements.—per square for two inser tions —12 lines of small type or 14 of large typo constituting a square—and 25 cents for every sub sequent insertion. If the number of insertions bo not marked on the advertisement it will be pub lished until forbid,and charged accordingly. liberal deduction will be made to those who am vertise by the year. Communications addressed to this office must bo POST PAID. PUBLIC SALE. BY virtue of an order of the Orphans’ Court of : Charles County, the subscribers will offer at | public sale, on the premises of (he late Elizabeth j Jl. Hughes, deceased, on THE RSDAY the 18th | day of AUGUST next, all the personal property (Negroes excepted) of the said Elizabeth Hughes, consisting of Household and Kitchen Furniture , Farming i Utensils, Slock , Corn , Tobacco, and a crop of Corn now growing. Terms of Sale. —A credit of six months will j be given for all sums over §lO, and for all sums j of and under §lO the cash will he required ; the j purchaser or purchasers giving bond with opprov-1 cd securilv, beat ing interest from the day ol sale. THOMAS TILLEY, JOHN J. HUGHES, Admr's jy 28. Pendente iite of Elizabeth Ji. Hughes, j PUBLIC SALE. BY virtue of an order of the Orphans’ Court of | Charles County, the subscriber, as Adminis trator of E. P. Long, late of said county, deceas ed, will offer at public sale, in the village of New port, on THURSDAY the 11th day of August, if fair, if not, the first fair day thereafter, the fol lowing property, to wit: Jill the Household and Kitchen Furniture; one Horse Cart , one Mare and Colt, cue Cow and Calf, with a variety of other articles. Terms.—A credit of six months will be given for all sums over five dollars, and for all sums cf I five dollars, and under that amount, the cash will I be required, the purchaser or purchasers giving ft bond with approved security bearing interest from * the day of sale. P. H. HAMILTON, Adm’r jy 21—ts. of E. P. Long, dec’d. HOP.SE POWERS AND THRESHERS,— We have in store a lot of Emery Co.’s ce lebrated RAIL-WAY POWERS and THRESH-J ER|3. which we believe the most efficient and dm- i , able macli iuc of the Undniannlael red. 1 * • , (l , ( 8 horses, warranted to thresh and clean, ready tor ; the mill, five to six hundred bushels per day—ifj pushed, SOO. These machines are made of the best j i material, strong and durable. A few of them were ; ( tried in Loudoun county last year and were highly j approved of. All orders promptly attended to ADDISON 4- MEADE, * Union Street and Potomac Strand > iv 21 Alexandria, Va. r > t ADMINISTRATION NOTICE. /TIHIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE, That the sub- X scribcr bath obtained from the Orphans’Court of Charles County, Md., letters of Administration on the personal estate of W ii.liam C. Dyer, late ; i of said county, deceased. All persons having claims j against said deceased arc hereby w arned to exhibit i . the same, with the vouchers thereof, to the sub- ; seriber, on or before the expiration of six months. ) * Tbev may otherwise by law be excluded Irom ail j i benefit of said deceased’s estate. j , Given under my hand tins lOtb day of July, j 1553. JOHN G. SUMMERS, Adm’r jy 21 of William C. Dyer. A DMINISTR AT ION NOTICE. THIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE, That the sub scriber hath obtained from the Orphans’Court ofCbarles County, Maryland, letters oi Administra- j tion on the personal estate of Samuel D. Jameson, | late of said county, deceased. All persons having | claims against the said deceased arc hereby warned j to exhibit the same to the subscriber, properly au- 1 thciilicated, on or before the expiration of six | months. They may otherwise by law be excluded j from all benefit of said deceased’s estate. Given under my band, ibis 19th dav of July, 1853. MARY S. JAMESON, Adm’x i jy 21 of Samuel D. Jameson. \ ADMINISTRATION NOTICE. rriHIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE, That the sub- JL scribcr lias obtained from the Orphans’Court of Charles county, Md., letters of Administration on the personal estate of Josias Hancock, late of said count} 7 , deceased. All persons having claim's against the said deceased arc hereby warned to j exhibit the same, properly authenticated, to the sub scribers, on or before the ox > alion of six months.' They may otherwise by la >e excluded from all , benefit of said deceased’s osi: -e. Given under my baud, this lOtli day of Julv, 1853. MARIA HANCOCK, Adm’x Jy 21 of Josias Hancock. NOTICE. THE CO-PARTNERSHIP of 11. A. Neale &. James 11. Norris being dissolved, it is necessary that all opeq, accounts, on books of Schooner William Peters, shoulu be speedily set tled. All persons indebted to the said schooner are hereby respectfully notified that the soid ac counts are placed in the hands of H. A. Neale for settlement, which if not done by or during No vember Court, next, trill and must then be dispos ed of otherwise, jy 21—4 t 11. A. NEALE. CHERRY WINE! CHERRY WINE!—I2.’ gallons of the best Cherry Wine, Which sold for §2 per gallon, and is worth at wholesale $1.62 we will sell from this day at §l, or even 75 cents per gallon—according to the quantity purchased, jy 28 MEYENRERG & BUG’S. prevent and remove Dandruff and Em X BELLisn THE Hair —apply every morning jus enough of the Oriental Restorative to moisten tin hair, and dress with a stifTbrush. supplied on the usual terms. For sale by HENRY PEEL, Druggist. Alexandria, Va.,jy 28 ORSE SHOE NAILS fbrsale by jan * WM. BOSWELL P 0 R T TOB AC C OTI ME S 7 POE TRY. MISCHIEF MAKERS. Oh ! could there in the world be found Some little spot of happy ground, Where village pleasures might go round, j Without the village tattling! How doubly blest that spot would be ’ 1 Where all might dwell in liberty, _ i Free from the bitter misery, ,! Of gossips’ endless prattling. If such a spot were really known, Dame Peace might call it as her own, And in it she might fix her throne, For over and forever; ! There like a queen might reign and live, While every one would soon forgive The little slights they might receive. And be offended never. ’Tis mischief makers that remove - j Far from our hearts the warmths of love, ‘ | And lead us all to disapprove What gives another pleasure ; They seem to take one’s part—but when They’ve heard our cares, unkindly then They soon retail them again, ■j Mix’d up with poisonous measure. And then they’ve such a cunning way Of telling ill-meant tales, they say, “Don’t mention it, 1 pray, I would not tell another j Straight to your neighbors they go, j Narrating everything they know ; j And break the peace ol high and low, Wife, husband, friend and brother. Oh ! (hat. the mischief making crew Were all reduced to one or two, I And they were painted red or blue. That every one might know them ! j Then would our villagers forget ■j To rage and quarrel, fume and fret, And falling into an angry pet, With tilings so much below them. For ’(is a sad degrading part To make another’s bosom smart, And plant a dagger in the heart We ought to love and cherish! Then let us evermore be found In quietness with ail around, While friendship, joy and peace abound, And angry feelings perish. e-wii i n i i mi MISCEL L A N EOUS. THREE SCENES IN THE LIFE OF A WORLDLING. “Contentment Belter than Wealthy XSV T. S. ARUHDR. Scent First. ‘•lt is vain to urge me, brother Robert. — I Out into the world 1 must go. The Impulse jis on me. I should die of inactirm here.” I l, Yfin v.r'f *ii> Th f **e * c '*_crL to d> ■ ll T. .I ■ n .Tcvn vv iuic. ' -'"“'f i, “And such work ! Delving in *rul grov- j j line close t he verv ground. And for what ?j * Oh no, Robert. Mv ambition soars beyond a your ‘quiet cottage in a sheltered vale.’ My appetite craves something more than simple t herbs and water from the brook I have set j mv heart on attaining wealth ; and, where t there is a will, there is always away.” ; ‘•Contentment is better than wealth.” j “A proverb for drones.” ( “No. William ; it is a proverb for the ( i wise.” i i “Re it for the w ise or simple, as common- , 1 1y understood, it is no proverb for me.* As , ( i a poor pi ulder along the way of life, it were | i impossible lor me t<> know content. So ‘ j urge ire no farther, Robert. I am going out 1 I into the world a w ealdi-set-kcr, and not un til wealth is gained do 1 purpose to return.”; “What of Ellen, Robert ?” The young man turned quickly towards his brother, visibly disturbed, and fixed his 1 : eyes upon him with on earnest expression.! | *■! love her as my life,” he said, with a j strong emphasis on his words. ! “Do you love wealth more than life, : William ?” “Robert!” | “If you love Ellen as your life, and leave her for the sake of getting tidies, then you 'must love money more than lite.” “Don't talk to me after this fashion. 1 cannot bear it. 1 love Ellen tenderly and. liuly. I am going forth as well lor her sake as my own In all the good fortune that 1 comes as the meed ol effort, she will be a sharer.” ; ' “Y r ou will see her before you leave us:” “No. 1 will neither pain her nor myselfi by a parting interview. Send her this letter ■ and tliis ring.” A few hours later and the brothers stood with lightly grasped hands', gazing into each i other’s faces, i “Farewell, Robert.” “Farewell, William. Think of the old L homestead as still your home. Though it j- is mine, in the division of our patrimony, - let y,>ur heart come back to it as yours.— r Think of it as home ; and, should fortune / cheat you with the apples of Sodom, return ,1 ito it again. Its doors will ever be open, and its beaith-fire bright for you as of old.— Farewell.” _ And they turned from each other, one go ing out into the restless world, an eager j’j seeker for its wealth and honors; the other 2, to linger among the pleasant places dear to ts him by every association of childhood, there to fill up the measure of his days— not idly. _ for he was no drone in the social hive. m- On the evening of that day two maidens | st sal alone, each in the sanctuary of her own 10 chamber. There was a warm glow on the cheeks of one, and a glad light in her eyes • Pale was the other’s face, and wet her droop ’ ing lashes. And she that sorrowed held ar ' I open letter in her hand. It was full often tier words; but the writer loved weald AND CHARLES COUNTY ADVERTISER. POUT TOBACCO, (MD.) THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 1853. more than the maiden, and had gone forth to seek the mistress of bis soul. He would “come back ;” but when ? Ah, what a veil of uncertainty was upon the future! Poor stricken heart! The other maiden —she of the glowing cheeks and dancing eyes—held also a letter in her baud. It was from the brother of the wealth-seeker; and it was also j full of loving words; and it said that, on | the morrow, he would come to hear her as a bride to his pleasant home. Happy mai den ! Second Scene. Ten years have passed. And what of the wealth-seeker? Has he won the glittering prize? What of the pale-faced maiden he* left in tears? Has he returned to her.'' — Does she share now his wealth and honor ?j Not since the dav he went forth from the j home of his childhood has a word ofintel-j ligence from the wanderer been received;, and, In those he left behind him, he is nowj as one who has passed the final bourne. —, Yet he still dwells among the living. In a far a wav, sunny clime, stands a state ly mansion. We will not linger to describe the elegant exterior, to hold up before the. reader’s imagination a picture of rural beau ty, exquisitely heightened by art, but enter its spacious ball, and pass up to one of its most luxurious chambers. How hushed and solemn the pervading atmosphere! The in mates, few in number, are grouped around one on whose white forehead Time’s trem bling finger has written the word “Death.” Over her bends a manly form. There —his face is towards you. Ah! You recognize the wanderer—the wealth-seeker. What does lie here ? What to him is the dying one? His wife! And has he, then, forgot ten the maiden whose dark lashes lay wet on her pale cheeks for many hours after she read his parting words? He has not forgot ten, but been false to her. Eagerly sought he the prize, to contend for which he went fort!?. Years came and departed ; yet still hope mocked him with ever attractive and ever fading illusions. To-day he stood with his hand just ready to seize the object of hts wishes, to-morrow a shadow mocked him. At last, in an evil hour, he bowed down his manhood prostrate even to the dust in mammon worship, and look to him self a bride, rich in golden attractions, but poorer as a woman than even the beggar at her father’s gate. What a lh>rn in tiis side she proved! A thorn ever sharp and ever. into his own, until, in the anguish of Ills soul, again and again he flung her passion- i atelv from him. ' Five vears of such a life! Oil, what is there of earthly good to compensate there for? Out, in tliis last desperate throw, did < the worldling gain the wealth, station, and j < .honor he coveted ? He had wedded the on-j !y child of a man whose treasure might be, counted by hundreds ot thousands; but, in > doing so, he had failed to secure the father’s i approval or confidence. ’I he stern old man 1 regarded him as a mercenary interloper and ever treated him ns such. For five years therefore he fretted md chafed in the narrow prison whose gilded bars his own hands hail forged. How often, during that time, had; his heart wandered back to the dear old 1 home, and the beloved ones with whom lie! had passed his early years! Ar.d ah! how! many, many times came between him and, the almost hated countenance of his wife the gentle, loving face ol that one to whom he 1 | had been false! How often her soft blue eyes rested on bis own! How often be started and looked up suddenly, as if her! sweet voice came lloatiug on the air ! And so the years moved on, the chain galling more deeply, mid a bitter sense ol humiliation as well us bondage robbing him 1 of all pleasure in life. Thus it is with him when, after leu years, I we find him waiting, in the chamber of death, for the strike that is to break the fetters that 1 so long have bound him. It lias fallen. He is free again. In dying, the suflerer made ‘no sign. Sullenly she plunged into the dark profound, so impenetrable to mortal eyes, 1 and as the turbid waves closed, sighing, over her, he who had Culled her wile turned from : the couch on which her frail body remain ed with an inward “Thank God! I am a man I again !” One more bitter drug yet remained for his cup. Not a week had gone by, ere the fa ther of his dead wife spoke to him these • cutting words — )! “You were nothing to me while my ■daughter lived —you are less than nothing ■ i now. It was my wealth, not my child that 1 you loved. She has passed away. What 1 affection would have given to her, dislike ■ I will never bestow on you. Henceforth we are strangers.” -j When next the sun went down on that r. stately mansion, which the wcallh-seekei r' had coveted, he was a wanderer again—poor 3 humiliated, broken in spirit, ej How bitter had been the mockery of al This early hopes! How terrible the punish- I meat he had sullered. 9 j Scene Third. 1 One more eager, almost fierce stiuggh g ! with alluring fortune, in which the world ing came near steeping his soul in crime and then fruitless ambition died in his bo j. I som. . | “Mv brother said well,” he murmured i as a ray of light fell suddenly on the ilark- I ness of his spirit, “‘Contentment is better 1 than wealth.’ Dear brother! Dear old home! r Sweet Ellen ! Ah, why did I leave you ? f Too late ! too late ! A cup, full of the wine I ofLfe, was at my lips; but 1 turned my s bead away, asking for a more fiery and ex- citing draught. How vividly comes before i me now that parting scene! lam looking i into my brother’s face. I fuel the tight grasp - 1 of Ids hand. His voice is in my cars. Dear brother! And his parting words, 1 hear j then, now, even more earnestly than when ■ they were first spoken. ‘Should fortune ; cheat you with the apples of Sodom, return >,lo your home again. Its doors will ever be ■ open, and its hearth-fires bright for you as ! ol Ah, do the fires still burn ? How J ■ ; manv vears have passed since I went forth ! i And Ellen? But I dare not think of her. It ,is too late—too late ! Even if she be living and unchanged in her affection, I can never I lay this false heart al her feel. Her look of love would smite me as with a whip of scor pions ” The step of time had fallen so lightly on the flowery path of those to whom content ment was a higher boon than wealth, that few footmarks were visible. Yet there had been changes in the old homestead. As the smilimg years went by, each, as it looked in at the cottage window, saw the home circle widening, or new beauty crowning the angel brows of happy children. No thorn in his side had Robert’s gentle wife proved. As time passed on, closer and clo ser was she drawn to his bosom ; yet never a point had pierced him. Their home was a type of paradise. It is near the close of a summer day. The evening meal is spread, and they are about gathering around the (able, when a stranger enters. His words are vague and brief, his manner singular, his air slightly mysterious. Furtive, yet eager glances go from face to face. j “Are these all your children ?” he asks, surj,rise and admiration mingling in his tones. “All ours. And, thank God! the little s yet unbroken.” Tji3 stranger averts his face. He is dis turbed by emotions that it is impossible to cone *l. “(Imtentment is better than wealth,” he ! murjA r cJ. * 0 'ha. I ’nad earlier compre- They njs? &S ttSafttTeaL 'Si instantly recognizes in the stranger his long j ( wandering, long mourned brother. 1 1 “William!’’ I The stranger is on his feet. A moment j or two the brothers stand gazing ot each , other, then tenderly embrace. ; “William!” I How the stranger starts and trembles ! ( lie had not seen, in the quiet maiden, mov- , ing among and ministering to the children so unobtrusively, the one lie had parted i I from years before—the one to whom he had been so false. Rut her voice has startled his cars with the familiar tones of yesterday. “Ellen!” Here is an instant oblivion of, ; all the intervening years. He has leaped back over the gloomy gulf, and stands now} las be stood ere ambition out! lust for gold | lured him away from the side of his first! : and only love. It is well both for him and the faithful maiden that he can so forget the 1 past as to lake her in his arms and clasp: ' her almost wildly to his heart. But for; this, conscious shame would have betrayed ; * his deeply repented perfidy. ! And here we leave them reader. “Con tentment is belter than w ealth.” So the I worldling proved, after a bitter experience, which may you he spared ! It is far belter to realize a truth perceptively, and thcncc • make it a rule of action, than to prove its 5 verity in a life of sharp agony. But how 1 few are able to rise into such a realization ! ’ 1 ; | A Remarkable Man.— At a temperance ‘ meeting held in Alabama, about six years a -1 no, Col, Lemanousky, who lias been tvven r, ty-three years in the armies of Napoleon 1 Bonaparte, addressed the meeting, 110 a *! rose before the audience, tall, erect and vi- with a glow of health upon his j cheeks, and said : s t “You see before you a man seventy years ’] old. I have fought two hundred battles. e have fourteen wounds on my body, have lived thirty days on horse flesh, with baik y i of trees for my bread, snow and ice for mv ° drink, the canopy of heaven for my covei ing, without stockings or shoes on my ll j feet, and only a few rags (or clothing. I i e ; the desert of Egypt 1 have marched for days e with a burning sun upon my naked bead ; 1 feet, blistered in the scorching sand ; and with eyes, nostrils, and mouth tilled with ;n dust —and with a thirst so tormenting that r ’ I have opened the veins of my own arms. ! and sucked my own blood! Do you ask bow 1 survived all these horrors? I an | ewer that under the providence of God, I ■ owe my preservation, my health and vigor i to this fact, that I never drank a drop ol le spirituous liquor in my life, and,” contin- J- ued he,/‘Baron Larry, chief in the medica e, : stalf of the French arms, has slated u fact o-■ that the 0,000 survivors, who safely return ed from Egypt were all ol those men win d, abstained from ardent spirits,” ! A PEEP AT GUANO—■WHERE GATHERED. | Having anchored al the North and Mid jdle Island, ot the latter of which we arc to t |load, vve will borrow the boat, and have a i closer look at the huge muck-heap. Bull- £ ing half round the Island, to the landing t place, which appears to be cleared from the s surrounding rocks for the special conveni- 1 cnce, our appearance disturbs thousands of I the web-footed natives; these thousands count, with the old hand?, as nothing ; for they tell us that the shippers have driven all v the birds away. Sailing above us is a flock c of pelicans, hovering over the clear water c like hawks, which they resemble in their } imode of darling down, or sporting on their f tprey. One of these, at this very instant, t | drops from his flock, as though a ball had v j whistled through his brain, but after a l I plunge, he is seen using to the surface, v with a fish struggling /in his capacious f I pouch. ! y i\ Near to us, whirling round our heads, are ! gannetts, mows, rauttflfi-birds, divers, gulls, c guano-birds, and a host of others, whose names are unknown to the vulgar. On the \ detached rocks, and lower edge of the Is land, numbering a pretty numerous convo- f cation, stand the penguin—the parson bird t of the sailor—whose good name is fairly s owned bv its cut-away-black-coat, while lie, r and solemn demeanor. His short legs plan- c ted far back, and his long body, do not fit him for a walk ashore; but he will sit for I hours on a little rock, just washed by the waters, apparently in such a deep absence c of mind, that passers by arc tempted to ape proacb in hope of catching him. Just as i the boat nears him, anti hands arc already s out to grasp his neck, away he goes, head over heels, in a most irreverent end ridicu- j lons manner, dives under the boat, ondjs shows his head about a quarter of a mile : out al sea, where the sailor may catch him it who can, for he is the fastest swimmer and ji the best diver that ever dipped. js Stepping over the mortal remains of sev-|c eral sea-lions, in a few strides vve are on the ' f guano, and the next step in it up to our s knees. The guano is regularly stratified ; c the lower strata arc solidified by the weight of the upper, and have acquired a dark red 1 color which becomes gradually lighter to- 1 wards the surface, 1 On the surface it has a vvhitey brown cruet containing eggs, being completely “ honey-qombed by the eggs- seldom more 1 u0 . , i1a33J otjj joi uado ao ijiav npi an -s errmrm lOny-gmmtwj . ces; and this mining system is so elaborate- hi ly carried out, that you can scarcely put a m fool on any part of the Island, without sink- m ing to the knee, and being tickled by the sense of a bard beak digging into your un protected ankle?. The egg shells, and thei™ bones and remains of fish brought up by the I C£ old birds for their young, must form a con-} 3 "' siderable part of the substance of the guano, j 3C which is thus, in a great measure deposited i b; beneath the surface and then thrown out by i l ' the bird. — Dickens' Household Words. j lll j al “If you know anything to make a brother a jo heart glad, run and toll it. Anything to cause aj jj sigh, bottle it up—bottle it up.” . | p Ye?, 1 shan't doit! said Miss Nipper; ! I’ve lived on scandal and Boliea this sixty i year; and a change of diet at ray lime ol j 5 j life might prove fatal. It agrees with me.!., jii does! 1 wouldn't give two pinches of u snufifio live vvhe r e nobody jumped over the I v i ten commandments! h's (un alive for me , j to ferret it out. 1 may not always hit on j \ i the riiiht names of the parties, but that’s aj s I trifle. ~ Don’t preach tome. One half of c j the world earn their “vittles” by living on [ ' oilier folks’ vitals. If you look into a late [tier's Bible, I guess it would puzziC you to| j find any such text, as ••Blessed arc pcctcc- ,i ! makers." Don’t they earn the salt to their j 1 Iponulgc, I)y selling whole neighborhoods | Jby the ears? Aim they in the seventh |, i heavens when they can gel hold of a long Itw is tilled snarl of a family quarrel ? Don't i : j fliev bow, and smile, and smirk, and helpj ■ | you out of the “Slough of Despond ’ wilhj ■jone hand, while they poke you back with, I i the other? Oh, 1 tell you Miss Nipper' ‘isn’t the only mischief maker. There’s a ! ■ j large family of Paul Biys; don’t all vvear_ s ■ petticoats either. Some of them have mas- j \culine noses, that are forever up in the air,; j snuffing the “ill wind that blows nobody | ’’ uood”—descendants in a direct line, from j Ananias and Sapphira. Know more about, ' la parish than the parson and his deacons ; ► | more about a woman than the father who. ‘ bc'uot her; and more of the world in general 1 ! ihan He who made it. Yes, thank good-’ '[ness, this is (as the ministers say.) “a' s ; wicked world.” It would be almighty stu i i,id, if it wasn’t; I suppose there’s somebo d dy or other doing something they ought k I not to, about every minute; at least I hope ' l !so. I only wish these male gossips would: V dear the track and let the Nancy Nipper, 1 ! express train be the first bearer of despatch- -j ■\ es ; (1 should hke some of’em a present of: I: a petticoat 1 .) You don’t catch me knock-j r * ii,.r under for speed and embellishment, loi II anything that sports a hat. Where is my " ■ SllUll buX ? KaNNV I CRN. I ,1 j 1 , J Rook Fellow!— An exchange tells us of j ,J t |, e sad case of a niuii who was shipwreck-j uYd, and cast upon an uninhabited island,! without a shilling in his pod t ’ ANECDOTE OF A FAT MAN. “Bridget,” said a lady in the city of Go tham one morning, as she was reconnoiler i ing in her kitchen, “what a quantity of soap grease you hare got here. We can gel plenty of soap for it, and we must exchange it for some. Watch for the fal man, and when he comes along, tell him 1 want to speak to him.” “Yes, mum,” said Bridget, All that morning, Bridget, between each whisk of her dish-cloth, kept a bright look out of the kitchen window, and no moving creature escaped her watchful gaze. At last her industry seemed about to be rewarded, for down thssireel came a large, portly gen tleman, flourishing a cane, and looking the very picture of good humor. Sure, there’s the fal man now, thought Bridget—and when he was in front of the house, out she flew and informed him that her mistress wished to speak to him. “Speak to me, my good girl!” replied the old gentleman. “Yes, sir, wants to spake to you, and says would you be good enough to walk in, sir?” This request, so direct, was not to be re fused; so in a stale of some wonderment, up the steps went the gentleman, and up the j stairs went Bridget, and knocking at the mistress’ door, pul her head in and exclaim ed, “Fat gentleman’s in the parlor, mum.” So saying, she instantly withdrew to the lower regions. In the thought the lady. What can it mean ? Bridget must have blunder ed—but down to the parlor she went, and up rose our fat friend, with bis blandest smile and most graceful bow. “Your servant informed me, madam, that you would like to speak to me—at your j service madam.” The mortified mistress saw the slate of jthe case immediately,and a smile wreathed | itself about her mouth in spite of herself as i she said,“Will you pardon the terrible blun | Jer of a raw Irish girl, my dear sir? I told ‘ her to call in the fat man to take away the ) soap greese, when she saw him, and she has j made a mistake you see.” The jolly fat gentleman leaned back in j his chair, and laughed such a hearty ha ! | ha! ha! as never comes from any of your lean gentry. “No apologies needed, madam,” said he* “It is decidedly the best joke of the season Ha ! ha| ha! so -sjp 3Ai]tsod on si 3J3tji poj3punoj aq heard the merry ha ! ha! ofttie oM genue- man, as he brought down his cane, every now and then and exclaimed, “such a joke.” A truly liberal man employs all the means in his power to do all the good he can. He does not rush in with fire and sword to abolish imperfections, which are sometimes unavoidable. He endeavours, by cautious progress, to remove the ills of the body politic; but he eschews violent measures, which crush one evil but to cre ate another. In this imperfect world of ours, he is content with the good, until time and circumstances favor him in his as pirations after the better. A Problem. — A man was travelling, and j stopping at a house, he said to the owner, | k *lf yuu*wi!l give roe as much money as I ! have, 1 will spend six cents with you, ' which was done. He went to two other ! places and made the same request, which I was complied with, and when he had spent isix cents at the third place, he had not a 'cent left. How much money had he when • he started ? I The Woonsocket Patriot editor makes : merry over the mistake of an old Shanghae ; hen of his, that has been “setting” for five I I weeks upon livo round sloius and apiece oj brick?—' “Her anxiety” quoth he, “is no [ greater than ours to know what she will i hatch. If it proves a brick-yard —that hen )jis not far sale.” 'I A windy orator once got up and said, r j -Sir, after much reflection, consideration, 3 iand examination, I have calmly, and deltb r j eralely, and carefully, came to the determin _l ed conclusion—that in those cities in which ' the population is very large, there grea ’! ier number of men, women and children, 1 1 than in cities where the population is less. ! I If the league of friendship be once broken, > tlieu is the cabinet of secrets unlocked, and 1 ■ diey fly about like birds let loose from a l| ca ge. And upon every rupture between ’ friends, secret enimics lie upon the watch, * 1 blow the lire and when the war is once de ■! dared, old friends become the worst of en emies. ’ Men never gel weaned. When they are 1 babies, they suck their mothers; when r ! middle aged, they suck the old man; when .j advanced in years, they suck a long-legged f pipe. A nipple of some kind seems indis . pensible to their happiness. * i An eld preacher once took lor his text, r j .‘Adam where art thou ?” and divided his subject into three parts: Ist. All men ate f!somewhere. 2d, some men are where | iliey ought not to be. 3d Unless they I juke care, they will find themselves where 1 thev would rather not be. NO. 14.