The weekly ledger., April 18, 1857, Image 1

About The weekly ledger. (Jackson, Amador County, Cal.) 1857-1857

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VOLUME 9.]
< vZrljc lUcckln Ccbgcv,
nnll.l.omD EVERT BATCKDAT, BV
f. A. springer & CO.
Tor m s :
|r Vonr. in advance f ; r > 00
y Months 2 9®
iree Month*, 2 00
1 AlTcrtUlf,
Ono Square of 10 linos, first insertion. s3—each
■ . ..nciit insertion, $1 SO.
\ nii'TJil deduction on tlie nliove rates will
f„ r quarterly and yearly ndvertisemets.
LEGAL advertisements
1,1 inserted at the following rate*:—Two Dol
‘ r gqaare for the first insertion, and One D01,,r
~r gqiare for each subsequent insertion.
JOB PRINTING.
tVe are prepared to do Job Printing of every i/e
--in a style superior to any other office in
,'southern Mines, nod at ns fair rates.
)i<> l.odßO, No. so, F. ami A. U.
, Slain! Meeting* on ouch Saturday evening
f r ur ceding the full of the moon.
1 W. AVER. W. M.
i;, DREV, Sec'y.
Volcano U. A. Chapter, No. 11.
I; ,...uiiir meetings Jst and 3d Tuesdays in cadi
mth.
OFFTEBS.
F ,1 \V. Bwwsbi.. U. I’.; E..J P. Williams. K.;
’ i'ktkb Dailt.; E-, A. U. Hot. Sec'y
Tyro l.otlK*', No. TS, F. A. N.
DRYTOWN.
p ta tc,l Meetings Thursday Evening on or preeed
ip th- full moon of each month. Members of the
allure invited to attend.
S. FRANK BENJAMIN, W. M.
tV, E. McGradt.Soc.
A. 51. RALLARD,
n STICK OF THE PEACE,
OFFICE,
NATIONAL HOUSE,
■ enu rof-Main and National streets, Volcano.
I ..
-If
ui;o. <ll KTOA,
]• STICK OF THE PEACE,
OFFICE,
i Muncklon A WarnerV Krug Store, Main street,
7-ly
Volcano.
.BAS. r. Ill) it it Ait Ik,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
JACKSON, CALIFORNIA.
jan. 31 l >-Ty
VV. W. CORK,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
JACKSON, CALIFORNIA.
i;in. 111 IS-ly
Comity Surveyor's Cilice.
JAS. MASTERSN,
j \rv xruvEvon and civil engineer, (imes in
THE COURT HOUSE, JACKSON.
lAVING assumed the duties of my office, I am
prepared to attend to all professional culls
in lay friends and the public, both promptly and
ii'-mlly.
1 fdi 28 19-ly
IAUI.IIV A CAWIilNti)
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
|ltice in Hale’s fire proof building, up stairs, Main
street, Volcano,
1-4- 20tf
I 11. M. unities.] [S. 11. AXTKI.L.
BRIGGB A A.XTCLL,
A TTORNE Y S A T LA W,
JACKSON, AMADOR COUNTY, CAL.
lOFFICE—At the Court House.
“ nor 24 6-ly
W. lIIAHV JOXEB,
ATTO R N E Y A T LA W ,
F 11 Kiy strict attention to making collections and
It end to all Legal Business entrusted to bis cart.
'1 " i I,’nion Square, next door to Johnson A
I; •lore. Volcano.
1 - 33-ly
i», c. jointiOK,
\ ttorney a*nd COUNSELLOR,
Voij ano, Amaihih County, Cal.
lie found at present at Justice N. Klein’s office.
Notary Public & Conveyancer."*^
|ay3-28 tf
Leo. K. Muiilli, 51. Ik.
t PHY SIC 1.1 AT A.VI) SUUGEOJS'.
| Vl-’ICE at Hoy \ Smiths Drug Store, Main *t..
' ’ Volcano. Uesidoncc on the alley, In the rear
P lie- Drug Store.
1 N B. The books of iV t. late firm of Goodin A
I'uiili ran lie found at my office, i’ersous indebted
* r ' "■ H lo call mid settle.
leb22-l8:U'.
Notice.
T » meeting of the stockholders of the Aqueduct
* i ty Ditch Company, held at their office in
'pi c I net city, June 24th, a. d. 18jl>, the following
‘'"fs wore duly elected:
■ hi o i cj r<o«
K. Johiihton, George McKenzie, J. Jhonstou,
‘ *' • Johnston aiul I* Chamberlain.
forge McKenzie, Secretary and Treasurer .
1 ■ !'• Johnston, PrniJent.
J'dy 5 37-ly
8. 11. SIAKLLTTK,
nyiIVEYOR 4- CIVIL ENGINEER,
'■■SIRING to rnsinnc the practice of my profes-
I)
1 l!av r.is counties, 'l respectfully solicit their or
V|‘\ \V 11 trail ts.'.ll V... Al-. .*A A,. .... ...........
among my old friends of Amador and
'. which will be promptly attended to, on rcason
lile term.
mis.
"'J' Office at Jackson’s News Depot, Jackson,
A nut, 1, »r county, California.'*®
2-3 m S. 11. MARLETTE
. m Notice.
A n tneeting of Urn stockholders of the Vi
V id, * " l ° " ul, ' r Hlil * Mining Company, held
i '.“IV"’ following members were unanimous
lc "' a trustees and Officers:
TRUSTEE:
i .. iiUNir.i.i,
~ II Rose, \v. a. Klim-on, W. H, Roberts,
meler ami Geo. Huuctou.
unct
OFFK'KRM.
,• A. 11. ROSE, PrctideHl
'* • ’ ‘ KTON. S,r.
' 1 e eho, I'eb. 12,
IhiV
17:1V
I only see through blinding tears
The wild vine 'round the door-way clinging,
And over in my weary ears
The wild-birds’ songs are ringing.
In the still watches of the night
Soft sleep to my scaled eyes discloses,
The Eden of my young delight
Embowered amid its roses.
Once more in the old-home I stand
And see (hose dear familiar faces,
Tlie pressure on my mother's hand,
I feel her warm embraces.
Beside the softly flowing rill
I see my little brothers playing.
And o’er the green and sloping hill,
My sweet-vOfced sisters straying.
With those dear loved ones, hand in hand,
I wander through the mountain passes,
Or pausing twine with careless hand
A wreath of flowers and grasses.
I muse beside the flowing rill,
Upon its violet banks reclining.
Or climb at twilight's hush, the hill
To watch the Sun's declining.
Beside my vine clad casement set
I touch the harp with skilful fingers,
Or watch tlie western hills where yet
The fading sun-light lingers.
The verdant lawns, the tranquil lake
I see in softest moonlight sleeping,
The vision vanishes—l wake
To pass the night in weeping.
A father sat by the chimney post
On a winter’s day, enjoying a roast;
By his side a maiden young and fair,
A girl with n wealth of golden hair;
And she leases her father, stern aud cold,
With a question of duty, tritoand old :
“Say, father, what shall a maiden do
When a man of merit comes to woo?
And, father, what of this pain In my bronst?
Married or single—which is the host?”
Then the sire of the maiden young ..nd fair.
The girl of the w ealth of golden hair,
He answers as ever do fathers cold,
Tu the questitn of duty trite and old :
“She who weddeth keeps God's letter;
She who weds notdocth better.”
Then meekly answered the maiden fair,
The gill with the wealth of "ohlon hair :
•■1 w ill keep the sense of the Hole Letter,
Content to do well without doing better.”
Serena Lovell wns one of tlie prettiest sis
ters that attended tiic Sunday evening class
meetingof our eimrcli, as we call it at the
boarding house, and was an object of much
admiration from tlie devout, and those who
were not so hopefully pious among the out
siders. Her amen was the sweetest, and her
singing of tiic hymn was the divinest that
could lie conceived.
And so the summer wore away. Along
towards tiic fall of the year it was observed
that a young thick-headed member of the
class, coarse and uncouth, was peculiarly and
aggravatiugly sweet upon her —fixing her
cricket for Iter to kneel upon, finding the
place in iter hymnJiook, responding when site
did, and going home with her at tlie end of
the meeting—which latter was considered by
our side as being a direct interference with
their rights. No one knew where she lived,
though site had been seen in the vicinity of
Sumner street, and it was conjectured that
her home was somewhere in that vicinity.
About this time I was in company with
a party of young female friends, one of the
best looking of whom—it was strange how
my young fancy took to good looking females;
I never could account for it on any other
ground titan that they were good looking— I
went home with. We went on the rule that
the farthest way round was tlie nearest way
home, for she led me through streets that
seemed to doable upon each other in a most
labaryiithino manner. Once we thought we
had got lost, and went away back, and then
we found that we had been right all the
while, and walked the street again. There
were shadows on tiic path, and 1 must con
fess to the weakness of indulging iu certain
liable sacrifices, as we from weariness rested
beneath shadows that were thickest. At the
turn of every corner 1 found that the leaden*,
cy of our steps were towards Sumner street,
and passing down a place that led from that
aristocraticjthorouglifare, as it thou was, we
arrived at a large stone building, and my fair
companion informed me that this was our
destination, backing tiic remark by a vigor
ous jerk at tiic bell.
I readily accepted tlie invitation to call, and
the next evening found me at the stone house,
where 1 was most cordially received and in
troduced to tlie fair Serena, whom 1 found as
sensible and as kind as her appearance hud
indicated. She was a charming girl, with
the most delightful fund of fuu, and sparkling
with refined and brilliant fancies, but she was
only a nursery maid! Our acquaintance
grew to a pleasant intimacy— a brotherly
and sisterly sentiment, such as boys and girls
may indulge iu with innocence aud delight,
which no one but a person of impure fancy
could imagine wrong—and without the least
shadow of sin iu our intercourse, the commu
nion was intensely agreeable and purely pla
tonic. The lover made las weekly visit on
Sunday night, which I magnanimously gave
up to him, contenting myself with a majority
of the other sex.
JACKSON, AMADOR COUNTY, CAL., SATURDAY MORNING, APRIL 18, 1857.
Worn the Louisville Journal.
I Dream of Homo.
“Good and Better.”
The ratal Kiss.
BV B. P. bIHLLABAR.
On one of these evenings I was making my
call, and was setting in the little hack sitting
room, enjoying a delightful tele-a-le/e with my
sweat sister, ns I called her. She looked
charmingly. It was the warmest part of the
summer, and her low-necked dress revealed a
roundness of beautiful shoulders that might
have awakened the admiration of nn anchor
ite, and her bright eyes sparkled with excite
ment and pleasure.
“ We’ve had visitors tin's afternoon,” said
she, " a whole family of them from New
oik, and such a kissing time as they made
of it when they met with ours! ’Twas enough
to sicken one to see it. I don’t see any pro
priety in women’s kissing when they meet, do
you ? ”
I assured her that it seemed to me decidedly
1 wrong, ami deemed that kissing was a per
| (ornmnee that should be religiously observed
by tlie sexes jointly, and suggested experi
ments illustrating this, enforcing the sugges
tion with a practical demonstration. One
such prompted another, until a very pleasant
pantomime had been gone through with of
the most harmless character, decidedly prov
ing to our own satisfaction the soundness of
our opinions.
Fate owed ns a particular spite, and that
evening determined on liquidating tiic debt.
We sat sipping tlie nectar of enjoyment from
a “loving cup,’’more appropriately named
than Mr. Peabody’s, ignorant of tlie storm
that was culminating and ready to break on
our heads.
Why was that lover of Serena’s walking
tlie streets at that particular moment? What
spirit of love or mischief prompted him to
pass by the house in which she lived ? Why
had villainous scavengers pile of
rubbish to accumulate by the wall over
against tlie window ? How could lie, so
dull usually, have thought that by getting up
on that rubbish he could command a view of
tlie room in which Serena sat, ? These ques
tions arc easier asked than answered. The
fact is all J have to tfo with, without going
into argument.
Thus wo sat, Serena and I, and parted at
ten o’clock with n kiss for friendship’s sake,
and hearts as innocent of anything honnoni
ous, as Mrs. Partington would say, “ns the
babe unborn.”*
I slept that night fdreaming of a flower
garden of tulips, that took strangely tlie form
of Serena’s lips, and I was transformed into
a big bee, and whissed around ninong them
witli a delighted wing, while the lover of
Serena changed into an immense owl, sat up
on tlie limb of an adjacent tree and looked
stupidly on the scene. What business had he
there at such a time ?
The next evening, for the third time du
ring the week, 1 called upon Serena. I found
her in teal's, and it immediately suggested it
self to me, that in nil the love talcs I had
read, tears were kissed from the cheek, and I
applied this remedy with a success that soon
restored my fair sister to a condition to make
mi explanation of her grief, which lay in of
fended pride. She stopped toosoon, I thought
and hoped she would cry again, but site
didn’t. In fact she smiled, as she placed in
my hand the following epistle, which 1 have
faithfully preserved :
Fatheless Qvrl.— ynre conduct is inspe
eabie bad-in dooiu what you did on AVcnsday
nite God nose I did luv you but yure pyaty
must be week cf you can sett still and let a
yung feller with red hare kiss as I see last
nite I must ask you to giv me back my hurt
and peusel case that I giv you and to forgett
that I ever maid ciniy moshnn to go alongst
you. Faults gurl agew.
Thomas W, Larkapke.
" False girl ague,” said I, “ what does that
mean ?”
Soreua told me that it was Thomas’ way of
spelling adieu, and lie was no great shakes at
spelling. She leaned her head against my
shoulder, and I thought she was going to cry
again, but when she looked up, her eyes were
beaming with fun.
“Red hair,” said she, running her fingers
through my locks.
"They are auburn.” said I, “auburn ; and
though I say it, that shouldn’t say it, per
haps, they are very pretty auburn too.”
“They’re red,” said she again.
"They’re auburn,” said I, waxing warm,
and before she had a chance to repeat the
red, 1 stopped her mouth so effectually that
she couldn’t speak it.
Thomas had come round that evening, and
thought he would take a last look at Serena
from tlie top of tlie pile of dirt, expecting to
find her plunged in sorrow. Ho arrived at
precisely the stage when the lost “rod” was
suppressed, and a fearful oath, for a meeting
man, trembled on his tongue, which lie was
prevented from uttering by a treacherous
brick which gave way under his feet and
brought him to the ground. This led to the
detection, and us he saw us looking at him
through the window, lio came iu, his face us
white as a sheet.
"Look hero,” said lie tome, “you inter
loafer you, ain’t you ashamed of yourself, you
vile seducer and catamount, to come into a
family like a boa constructor, and take away
my girl I Aud ain’t you ashamed of your
self, sister Serena, to let him kiss you, when
1 never dared loin my life
“ Hence, bad man !” erfro I, with a semi
frautic flourish, “leave tlie abode of innocence,
or by St. Paul I’ll strike thee to my feet,
and spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
Away, nor let thy greasy form offend our
chastened gaze again.”
“Really 1,” —lie began, evidently start
led.
“ No more —no more 1” cried I, furiously ;
“away, away to the mountain’s brow.—
Herein your compact ceases, and the vile one
who’d dare the bond restore, I’d plunge in
the pool of lower Tartarus, and rend the
concave with protestations of his enormity.”
“ Really I ” —said lie, backing towards the
door.
“Hence, direful cobier,” cried I, “and to
the infuriated winds bellow the story of thy
love. Bah I”
He disappeared through tiic door and 1
saw him not again, as John Biniyan writes.
Serena laughed prodigiously. As soon as lie
was gone, my first impulse was to propose to
take tlie place of the departed, as a lover ;
my second impulse was to do no such thing,
and I didn’t.
The rejected lover was a vengeful man.—
He reported Serena’s conduct to a church
meeting, which was discussed, and a commit
tee composed of the elder members of tlie
church appointed to wait upon her and talk
with her, which they did. She protested .she
wns guilty of nothing, for which she was sus
pended for a year.
Serena never married, and whenever wo
meet we talk over the events of that time,
though they lost her a stupid husband. She
lives in single blessedness, and laughs as heart
ily ns ever. She lias very fine teeth.
A Novel 'AVTutf.u’s Sympathy. —Tiic fol
lowing anecdote of Eugene Sue, author of
Hie Mysteries of Paris, and other popular
French novels, is from a Paris correspondent
of a Boston paper:
Not many mouths since, Sue used to visit
almost daily, one of the most fashionable la
dies iu Paris, Madame dc I> , and hold
forth in her richly furnished boudoir tlie con
dition of the poor.
“Uo you ever relieve their distress?” ask
ed Madame de D , at the close of one
of these harangues.
“To tv trifling extent,” answered Sue; “but
though my gifts are small, they are always
cheerfully bestowed, I give one fourth of
ray income in alms.”
That afternoon ns ho left the Cafe de
Paries, where he had been eating a costly
dinner, nn apparently old woman, clad in
rags, prayed for charity.
“ Go away,” was tlie stern reply.
“ But I am starving; give me a siuglo cop
per to purchase bread with I”
“ I will give yon in charge of a police offi
cer, if you tints annoy me.”
“ You will 1” said the beggar, "and yet
Monsieur Eugene Sue, you are the Wiau who
writes about the miseries of the poor, you
are the working man’s champion; you are.”
“ Who are you?” exclaimed Sue.
“Madame del) ,” was the reply;
and the distinguished lady stepped into iter
carriage, which was in waiting, leaving the
novelist to his reflections.
If you arc a young lady and arc invited to
spend a few weeks with a friend, don’t be
forever harping on what a good cook your
mother is. It will be sure to make your
hostess feel unpleasant; which would you pre
fer, that site should take you to a nice ride
among the hills, or that site should shut her
self up iu tlie kitchen manufacturing forty
different kinds of cake for yon? Do not
complain of the miserable cooking of Airs.
A., whom perhaps you have just visited—of
what insipid pics and puddings she makes and
the endless variety of ways in which she
serves up codfish. If you came so near
starving why did you stay so long? You had
no claims upon them. Is it right for yon,
after sharing their hospitalities, perhaps for
weeks, to go away and ridicule their manner
of living? Shame on you! I don’t wish
anybody to come to see me simply to get
something good to eat. It degrades rnc so
in my own eyes to think that my table is my
onlv attraction. Epicures had better confine
their wishes to professional cooks hotel
boarders are tiic easiest persons in the world
to entertain. It is a luxury to have them
by our firesides.
Old Men - . —A wise man will never rust
out. As long as ho can move or breathe,
ho will be doing something for himself, or
ids neighbor, or for posterity. Almost to
tiic last hours of hits life, Washington was at
work. So were Franklin, and Adams, and
Young, and Howard, and Newton. No rust
marred their spirits. It is a foolish idea to
suppose that we must lie down and die be
cause we are old. Who is old? Not the
old man of energy; not the day laborer in
science, art or benevolence; but he only who
suffers iris energies to waste away, and Hie
spring of life to become motionless; on whose
hands tlie hours drag heavily, and to whom
all tilings wear tlie garb of gloom. There
are scores of gray headed men wo should
prefer in any important enterprise, to those
young gentlemen who fear and tremble nt ap
proaching shadows, and turn pale at a lion in
their path, a harsh word or a frown.
The Womex in Central Africa. —ln Cen
tral Africa (says tiic missionary Livingston)
the women have the upper hand. 'They feed
tiic men. The wife is obliged to supply her
mother-in-law with fire-wood. A man who
has five wives, having returned home, asks
something of No 1. No. 1 refershim to No. 2,
who desires him to go to the one ho loves best,
lie is bandied about from one to tlie other,
till he becomes quite engaged; but all he can
do is to go upon the top of a tree and cry
aloud, “1 thought 1 had got live wives, but
I find I have got five witches.” If a woman
beats Iter hnsbtfhd she is punished in this—
Both are taken to tlie market-place and the
wife is compelled to lake tiic husband home
on her back, amidst the cheers of the people.
! On these occasions tlie women generally cry
I out, “Give it to him again I”
There is an oak tree, near Jiuleigh, N. C.
which at tlie sun’s meridian,' covers with a
shade a space of niue thousand feet, it
would afford shelter to four thousand five
: hundred men.
My Last Night iu London.
It was iu the fall of 18—that the ship to
which I belonged, after a voyage of four
months in the Northern Atlantic, hove in
sight of the Sicily Islands, and as we were
anchored in the Dowasn, having been short
of provisions for some time hack, we were
obliged to stop and replenish. The next day,
however, we were tow ed up the river, and en
tered the dock on the ‘2Blh of October. It
was a grand sight to me, fur I had never been
in London, and the city seemed like the world
iu comparison to ray humble village iu the
west of England.
We were paid off on the morrow’, and I
determined as soon as I was at liberty to
take a stroll and see some of the sights about
which I had often heard.
At twelve next day all hands proceeded to
the office in Leaden Hall street, and receiv
ed, severally the amount due them. There
was just ten pounds coming to me, and I
started to see how I could best make it con
ducive to my pleasure.
1 had been strolling around for some time,
looking at the Tower and other places of
note, and finally walked into one of the parks,
to see what I could of the London fashions.
I was leaning against a tree watching a party
which attracted my attention when 1 was
suddenly accosted by a female,, apparently
about eighteen or twenty, neatly dressed, and
with an expression which, although pleasing,
looked somewhat sad.
“ What is it that you wish, my good lady ?”
said 1.
She looked at me a moment and said :
“You are a sailor, I suppose?”
“ Yes.”
“Hor long have you been in London ?”
“ I arrived yesterday.”
“ Have you been here before ?”
“ Never.”
“Well, then, perhaps I can be of some as
sistance to you ; suppose w-c take a cab and
drive out to Vauxhail this evening.”
I hesitated for a moment, for I thought
to myself, she no doubt thinks I have plenty
of money, and wishes to obtain a share.—
IJut then again, I thought it makes no differ
ence ; I’ll spend it anyhow, and consented.
She called a cab and in a short time we
were in Vauxhall. 1 pulled out my purse to
pay the driver, when she said :
“Never mind, sir, I have plenty ; besides
I invited you here, therefore I bear all ex
pense.”
1 was astonished, for I had never doubted
but that my money was the principal attrac
tion, and 1 was puzzled to think what could
be her object. After ordering refreshments,
of which she ate and drank very little, but
which she insisted on paying for, wo strolled
around the garden, listening to the music, un
til towards evening, when I remarked it
would be best to return.
“ Yes, it will soon bo dark, and we had
better go ; but,” said she, “you are a strang
er in London and it would be fully for you to
look for a hotel to-night—and it would be
ungenerous in me to allow yon to—l live in
street, and if you will accept a room
in my house you will bo perfectly welcome,
and ray husband who is very fond of compa
ny, will be glad to see yon.”
' While hesitating, she called a cab and half
forced me in. When we got out, I found
myself in a narrow street dimly lighted, and
before a large brick house-, with iron railing
in front, tSho opened the door, and asked
me to sit down a moment, when she went in
to a little room close by ami returned almost
immediately, and said, “Husband lias retired;
I’ll introduce you to him in the morning.—
Here is n light—lake the room at the head
of the stairs. Good night.”
I went up stairs to the room she had point
ed out, opened the door and went in. It
was furnished you might say richly. The
bed stood in the farther corner, with blue
damask curtains in front. 1 undressed quick
ly, us I was somewhat tired by my adventure,
walked to the bed and drew aside the cur
tains, ami there lay a man weltering iu his
blood with his throat cut from car to car.
I immediately dressed myself, with a pres
ence of mind which I have never been able to
account for. 1 then tried the door, which to
my horror was locked. Glancing around the
room my eyes fell upon the irons iu the fire
place. 1 snatched up one and with one
stroke broke the lock and opened the door.
Running down the stairs 1 found the front
door fastened also. Having nothing to break
the lock with, 1 darted into the first room I
came to, and jumped from the window into
the alley on the side of the house and had
merely time to conceal myself, when I heard
the people around crying murder, and saw
the very woman I came with, followed by
several of the police, enter the house, think
ing, I suppose, that she would find me. 1
left as soon as the crowd gathered around,
and passed unnoticed.
The next morning I was reading a 'paper,
and almost the first thing which attracted my
attention was a notice of a bloody murder in
street, with a reward of fifty pounds
for the apprehension of the murderer, it
went further, and in the description ot the
aupiioscd murderer, described me better than
I could myself—even to the manner in which
1 wore my beard. The first barbershop re
ceived that gratis, and changing my clothing,
which was minutely described, I went down
to the docks, and finding a bark one hand
short, 1 shipped iu her lor New \ ork, and
have never since, nor never w ish to spend
another night iu London.
Oi r of every twenty young men in a quad
rille, at an evening party, who pretend to be
making love to their partners, ten are re
marking that the room is very warm, five are
observing that the polka is the grandest in
vention of the age, and are asking how the
next figure commences.
[NUMBER 26.
Popping the Question. —I was sitting by
the siiie of Imogene, meditating upon the
best manner of coming to the point, when
she took up an orange that lav upon the tu
| blc.
“ Will you have part of this?’’she asked.
“ I assented, thinking all the while more of
orange flowers than of the fruit. What she
was thinking of I cannot say. She divided
the orange into two parts, and gave me one.
A sudden inspiration came upon me.
“ Oh, Imogene.” said I, "I wish you would
serve me as you have this orange.”
j “What do you mean?” she asked innocent
ly-
“ Why, yon have halreil the orange, now
won’t you havt me?”
I am a little oblivions ns to whnt happened
for the next few minutes; only I remember
1 hat somehow I found my moustache in con
tact with her lips. We arc to l>e married in
April. You will receive cards.
A laughable circumstance occurred the
1 other day on a railroad. A young gentle
man was travelling to town, and when ho
| arrived at Waterford, a prim, sedate gentle
j man of the older school got into the carriage.
As soon as the train had started, without
( asking the old boy whether he might or not,
the young one pulled out his cigar, and be
gan to puff away, on which old Squaretoes
violently remonstrated, and said he should
make a regular-complaint to the authorities
when he got to town. Nothing daunted, tho
youngster continued his cigar till just before
he got to Euston Square, when, jumping out
of the carriage, he called to a policeman and
begged him to take his /riend into custody,
ns he had been smoking in the carriage con
trary to his express wishes. While the al
tercation was going on our young friend mix
ed in the crowd, and has never been heard of
since.
April.
A limM, blushing maiden,
With downcast, tearful eyes,
In her hand an opening rosebud,
Perfumed by dewy sighs.
Oft advancing, oft retreating,
She has won our heart the while 1 ,
And we cannot choose but love her,
For her tear-drops and her smile.
" Will you have a Daily Sun ?” said a
newsboy to Mrs. Partington.
“ Will I have a daily son! Why, you
little nasty scapegrace! How dare you in
sinuate against a lone woman from home?—
No, indeed, I guess 1 won’t have a daily soul
My poor dear, dead and gone man ' used to
complain awfully when 1 presented him a
yearly son! A daily son, indeed! Begone
you little upstart imp!” And the old woman
called for the old turkey-tail fuu to keep her
from swooning.
A married woman, at Washington Colliery
was awoke one night by the noise of a robber
on the housetop. The rascal was deliberate
unroofing her cottage domicil, to make his
way in. “Who’s there?” shouted she. “It’s
no business of yours,” replied he: “you’d bet
ter be quiet.” But she thought she had bet
ter not lie quiet. So, taking down a gun,she
fired through the roof. The fellow got away
and was heard of no more.
Lately at Blackheath, England, on Mrs.
Pocock, the mother of three generations of
livery-stable kee|>ers in that village, reaching
her hundredth year, she was carried around
the Heath in a charriot drawn by eight white
horses, preceded by out-riders, and followed
by the tradesmen of the village, in carriages.
She afterwards presided at a canter, and in
the evening opened a ball given in her honor.
Too Bad — Really. —The rose of Florida,
the most beautiful of flowers, emits no fra
grance; the bird of Paradise, the most beau
tiful of birds, gives no songs; the cypress of
Greece, the finest of trees, yields no fruit;
dandies, the shiniest of men, have no sense;
and ball-room liclles, tho loveliest of created
creatures, are very often ditto—and a little
more so!
Land Speculation.— More than one mil
lion of dollars has been gathered from a sin
gle county, in Illinois, the past year, to in
vest in lowa lands on speculation. Farmers,
mechanics, merchant*, everybody, has the fe
ver. No woudugNmit money is scarce in that
quarter. Uiiire Sum’s farm is fast diminish
ing.
The Frigate for the Emperor of Russia,
which the war between that country and
England stopped from progressing in this
country, is to be now built at New York by
Webb, the ship builder. Tho ship will be a
: three-decker of the largest class, and be sup
plied w ith engines of great power.
Ik yon are in a hurry, never get behind a
couple that are courting. They want to make
so much of each other, that they wouldn’t
move quick if they were going to a funeral.
Get behind your jolly married folks, who
have lots of children at home, if you wish to
1 get along fast. But it is best to be a little
ahead of either of them.
1 Sympathy. —An Irish counsel, I»eing ques
tioned by a Judge lo “know for whom he was
1 concerned,” replied, “1 am concerned, ray
lord, for the plaintiff, but 1 am employed by
the defendant.”
It is with the faded beauty, as with a
clock ; the more the face is enameled, the
more dearly do wo see the progress of time.
The last way to pop the question is to ask
the fair lady “if you shall have the pleasure
1 of seeing her ul the minister’*,’’