Newspaper Page Text
GEORGETOWN HEWS. A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, PUBLISHED E\ EKY THURS DAY MORNING BY r>latt d? Shaw. Office, Main St., nearly opposite Masonic Hall. For one year $5 00 For six months 3 00 For three months 2 00 Rates of Advertising. For first insertion of 1 square, or 10 lines. .$3 00 For each subsequent insertion 1 50 Liberal deductions for quarterly advertisements. P RODGER, J. C. Manufacturer of all kinds of Jewelry, Maiden Lane, Georgetown, two doors south of J. J. Lewis’ Bowling Saloon. November Ist, 1855. [2-tf. G-raliam rfJ 00., (BRANCH OF GRAHAM & CO. GEORGETOWN.) MAIN STREET, BOTTLE HILL. Dealers in Groceries, Provisions , Cigars, Li quors, S,-c. The highest price paid at all times for Gold Dust. Bottle Hill, April 23d, 1855. [2B-tf Justice of tile Peace. OFFICE on Church st.. head of Maiden Lane, one door south of Bollen A Ritter's Gun and Blacksmith establishment. Office open every day of the week from 9 to 4 o’clock; Sunday exepted. Georgetown, May 24th, 1855. [32-tf. BUSINESS CARDS Win.. Ewing, Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office at Lower Johntown, El Dorado Co., Cal. November 12th, 1855. [3-4t* DR. *.000, DR. M, J., late of Johntown, would inform the citizens of Bottle Hill that hav ing permanently located in that place, he would respectfully tender to them his professional ser vices as Surgeon and Physician. Bottle Hill, Dec. 15 1854. 9-tf R AY, DR. F. G., Main street, Georgetown.— Office opposite Adams & Co. Oct. 26, 2-tf WELLS, FARGO & CO., Express Agents, Gold Dnst Shippers,and Bankers, George town. [See advertisement.] 2-tf x. o. of o. r*. j Memento Lodge, No. 37, Institu- March 22nd, 1855. Meets on Thursday of each week, at the Ma sonic Hall, at 7 o’clock, P. M. Transient Brothers, in good standing, are cor dially invited to attend. J. J. LEWTB. N. G. E. Knox, Sec’y. t\ S. of T. —Georgetown Division, No. 42, > r Sons of Temperance, meets every Tues day evening, at 7 o’clock, in their Hall on Main street, Georgetown. All brethren in good standing are invited to at tend. WM. T. GIBBS, W. P. J. T. Noel, R. S. Divine Worship. Rev. DAVID McCLURE, of the Presbytery of San Francisco, preaches every Sabbath morning and evening in the Town Hall, Georgetown. Ser vices commencing at 10i o'clock A. M., and 8 P. M. Also, every Sabbath afternoon at Bottle Hill, at 3 o’clock. Prayer meeting at the Par sonage on Wednesday evenings. Public Worship. There will be preaching at the Town Hall, every Thursday evening, at 7 o’clock, P. M.; al 'o upon every other Sabbath, 3 at o'clock, P. M. bv Rev. R. R. Bkookshier, of the Methodist E piscppal Church South. Public Worship. —At the School House, Georgetown. Regular appointments of Rev. Jno. SHARP, of M. E. Church, A. M. aud 7 P. M., ■very Sabbath. Occasional supplies by other Ministers. Prayer meetings, Wednesday even ngs at 7P. M. Sabbath School 9] A. M. California Stage Company Notice. STAGES for Sacramento City, leave the “Nevada House," f■V.'-L'- Georgetown, every morning, at three o'clock, A. ’L, and the “ Buckeye Exchange,” Greenwood Valley, at four o’clock, A. M., arriving in Sacra mento in time to connect with the steamboats for San Francisco. J. HAWORTH, Pies. Gal. S. Co. Per M. A. MERCHANT, Agent. March 28th, 1855. [24-tf. ACCOMMODATION Stage Lino FROM BO TILE HILL JO COLON A. THE subscriber having extended his Line to Bottle Hill, will run a four-horse coach dai ly between the above places, via of Georgetown and Johntown. Leaving Battle Hill at 6£ o'clock A. M., arriv ing at Coloma at 10 o’clock A. M. Returning, will leave Coloma at 3 o'clock, P M., arriving at Bottle Hill at 6 o’clock P. M. Having run a line of stages for the past twe years and a half between Georgetown and Colo rna , the undersigned feels confident that in ex tending his line to Bottle Hill, he can offer such accommodations as to merit the patronage of the public. ROBERT ELLIS. June 27th, 1855. [37-tf. Books & Stationery. A Literary Depot, is opened by the unde A. signed, on Main Street, Bottle Hill, at whic BOOKS, MAGAZINES and NEWSPAPERS every variety, and of the latest date, can be hi npou application. JAMISON & CALDWELL. Bottle Hill, April 18th, 1855. [27-tf. TL’hxing LATHE. —The undersigned leave to inform the citizens of Grorge ffiat he is prepared to do all kinds of Tumi best manner and at the shortest notice. _ M. A. WOODSII ««orgetown, Oct 19, 1854. GEORGETOWN, EL DORADO COUNTY, CAL., NOV. 22, 1855. Tile Height of the Ridiculous. BY OLIVER W. HOLMES. I wrote some lines once on a time, In wondrous merry mood, An thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind it was of him, To mind a slender man like me, He of the mighty limb! “These to the printer,” I exclaimed, And in my humorous way, I added, (as a trifling jest,) “There’ll be the devil to pay.’’ He took the paper, and I watched. And saw him peep within; At thetirst line he read, his face Was all upon the grin. He read the next; the grin grew broad, And shot from ear to ear; He read the third; a chuckling noise I now began to hear. The fourth; lie broke into a roar; The fifth; bis waistband split; The sixth; he burst five buttons off, And tumbled in a lit. Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, I watched that wretched man, And since, 1 never dare to write As funny as I can. An Unexpected Hate. In one of the large towns of "Worcester county, Massachusetts, used to live a cler gyman whom we will call Ridewell. He was of the Baptist persuasion, and very rigid in his ideas of moral propriety. He had in his employ an old negro named Pom pey, and if this latter individual was not so strict in his morals as his master, he was at least a very cunning dog, and passed in the reverend household for a pattern of propri ety. Fompey was a useful servant, and the old clergyman never hesitated to trust him with the most important business. Now it so happened that there were dwelling in and about the town, sundry individuals who had not the fear of the dreadful penalties which Mr. Ridewell preached, about their eyes, for it was the wont of these people to congregate on Sabbath evenings upon a level piece of land in the outskirts of the town, and there race horses. This spot was hidden from view by a dense piece of woods, and for a long while the Sunday evening races were carried on there without detec tion by the officers, or others who might have stopped them. It also happened that the good old clergyman owned one of the best horses in the country. This horse was one of the old Morgan stock, with a mix ture of Arabian blood in his veins, and it was generally known that few beasts could pass him on the road. Mr. Ridewell, with a dignity becoming his calling, stoutly de clared that the tleetness of his horse never afforded him any gratification, and that for his own part he would as lief have any other. Yet money could not buy his Mor gan, nor could any amount of argument per suade him to swap. The Church was so near the good clergyman’s dwelling that he always walked to meeting, and his horse was consequently allowed to remain in pas ture. Fompey discovered that these races were on the tapis, and he resolved to enter his master’s horse on his own account, for he felt assured that old Morgan could beat anything in the shape of horseflesh that co'd be procured in that quarter. So on the very next Sunday evening he had the bridle under his jacket, went out into the pasture and caught the horse, and then rode off to ward the spot where the wicked ones were congregated. Here he found some dozen assembled, and the race about to commence. Fompey mounted his beast, and at a signal he started. Uhl Morgan entered into the spirit of the thing, and came out two rods ahead of everything. Fompey won quite a pile, and before dark he was well initiated in horse-racing. Fompey succeeded in getting home with out exciting any suspicions, and he now longed for the Sabbath afternoon to come, for he was determined to try it again. He did so, and again he won; and this course of wickedness he followed up for two months, making his appearance upon the racing ground every Sunday afternoon as soon as he could after “meeting was out.” And during that time Fompey was not the only one that loved racing. No, for old Morgan himself had come to love the excitement of the thing too, and his every motion when upon the track showed how zealously he en tered into the spirit of the game. But these tilings were not always to remain a secret. One Sunday a pious deacon beheld this ra cing from a distance, and straightway went to the parson with the alarming intelli gence. the Rev. Mr. Ridewell was utterly shocked. His moral feelings were outraged, and he resolved to put a stop to this wick edness. During the week he made several inquiries, and he learned that this thing had been practiced all summer on every °Sab bath afternoon. He made his parishioners keep quiet, and on the next Sunday he would make his appearance on the very spot and catch them in their deeds of in iquity. On the following Sabbath, after dinner, Mr. Ridewell ordered Fompey to bring up old Morgan and put him in the stable. The order was obeyed, though not without misgivings on the part of the faith ful negro. As soon as the afternoon servi ces were closed, the two deacons and some others of the members of the church accom panied the minister] home, together with their horses. “It is the most flagrant piece of irreligion that ever came to my knowledge,” said the indignant clergyman. “Horse-racing on the Sabbath,” uttered a deacon. “Dreadful,” echoed a second deacon. And so the conversation went on until they reached the top of a gentle eminence which overlooked the plain where the ra cing was carried on, and where some dozen horsemen, with a score of lookers-on, were assembled. The sight was one that chilled the good parson to his soul. He remained motionless until he had made out the whole alarming truth; then turning to his compan ions he said: “Now, my brothers, let us ride down and confront the wicked wretches, and if they will down on their knees and implore God's mercy, and promise to do so no more, we will not take legal action against them.— Oh that my own land should be desecrated thus!” for it was indeed a portion of his own farm. As the good clergyman thus spoke he started on towards the scene. The horses were drawing up for a start as the minister approached, and some of the riders at once recognized “old Morgan,” though they did not recognize the individual who rode him. “\V icked men!” commenced the parson, as he came near enough for his voice to be heard, “children of sin and shame—” “Como on, old hos,” cried one of the jockies, turning towards the minister. “If you are in for the first race you must stir your stumps.” “Alas 1 O my wicked—” “All ready!” shouted he who led the af fair, cutting the minister short, and the word for starting was given. Old Morgan knew that word too well, for no sooner did it fall upon his cars, than he stuck out his nose, and with one wild snort he started, and the rest of the racers, twelve in number, kept him company. “Who-o-o-h-o-o! who-o-o!” yelled the cler gyman, tugging at the reins” with all his might. But it was of no avail. Old Morgan had now reached ahead of all competitors, and he came up to the judges’ stand three rods ahead, where the petrified deacons were standing with eyes and mouth wide open. “Don't stop,” shouted one of the judges, who now recognized Parson Bidewell, and suspected his business, and who knew the secret of old Morgan's joining the race.— “Don’t stop,” he shouted again; “its a two mile heat this time. Keep right on, par son. You're good for another mile.— Now you go—and off it is.” These last words were of course known to the horse, and no sooner did Morgan hear them than he stuck his nose out, and again started off. The poor parson did his ut most to stop the bewitched animal, but it could not be done. The more he struggled and yelled the faster the animal went, and ere many moments lie was again at the starting point, where Morgan now slopped of his own accord. There was a hurried whispering among the jockeys, and a suc cession of very curious winks and knowing nods seemed to indicate that they under stood. “Upon my soul, parson,” said one of them, approaching the spot where the min ister still sat in his saddle, he having not yet sufficiently recovered his presence of mind to dismount, “yon ride well, parson. We had not looked for this honor.” “Honor, sir!” gasped Bidewell, looking into the speaker’s face. “Aye—for it is an honor. You arc the first clergyman that has ever joined us in our Sabbath evening entertainments.” “T—l, sir! I joined you?” “Hal ha! ha! Oh, you did it well.— Your good deacons really think you were trying very hard to hold in your horse, but I saw through it. I saw how slyly you put your horse up. But I don't blame you for feeling proud of old Morgan, for I should feel so myself if I owned him. But you need not fear; 1 will tell all who may ask me about it, that you did your best to stop your beast, for I would rather stretch the truth a little than have such a jockey us you suffer.” This had been spoken so loud ly that the deacons had heard every word, and the poor parson was bewildered; but he came to himself, and with a flashing eye he cried: “Villains, what mean vou? why do you thus?” “Hold on,” interrupted one of the party, and as he spoke the rest of the racing men had all mounted their horses; “hold on a moment, parson; wo arc all willing to allow you to carry off the palm, but we won't stand your abuse. When we heard that you had determined to try if your horse would not beat us all, we agreed among ourselves that if yon came we would let you iu. We have done so, and you have won the race in a two mile heat. Now let that satisfy you. By the hokey, you did it well. When you want to try it again, just send us word and we’ll be ready for you. Good bye.” As the jockey thus spoke, he turned his horse’s head, and before the astounded preacher could utter a word, the whole par ty had ridden away out of hearing. It was some time before one of the churchmen could speak. They knew uot what to say. Why should their minister's horse have joined in the race without some permission from his master? They knew how much he valued theauimal; and at length they shook their heads with doubt. “It’s very strange,” said one. “ Very,” answered the second. “Remarkably,” suggested the third. "On my soul, brethren,” spoke Ridewell. “I can t make it out.” The brethren looked at each other, and the deacons shook their heads in a very sol emn and impressive manner. So the party rode back to the clcnry man s house, but none of the brethren would enter, nor would they stop at all. Before Monday had drawn to a close, it was gen erally known that Parson Ridcwcll raced his horse on the Sabbath, and a meeting of the church was appointed lor Thurscay. Poor Kidewell was almost crazv with vexation. But bclore Thursday came. Pom pey found out how matters stood, and he assured his master that he could clear the matter up, and after a day's search lie dis covered the astounding fact that some of those wicked men had been in the habit of stealing old Morgan from the pasture and racing him on Sabbath afternoon. Pora pey found out this much — but could not find out U'ho did it! As soon as this became known to the church, the members conferred together, and they soon concluded that under such circumstances a high mettled horse would bo apt to run away with Ids rider when he found himself directly upon the track. So parson Kidewell was cleared, but it was a long while before he got over the blow, for many were the wicked wags who delighted to hector him by offering to "ride a race” with him, to "bet on his head,” to “put him against the world” on a race.— But as Kidewell grew older, his heart grew warmer, and finally he could laugh with right good will when he spoke of his unex pected race. Thk Grave of Franklin. —Great and wide-spread as is the fame of the •Printer Philosopher,’ and proud as the people of Philadelphia are of their illustrious towns man, we doubt much if one in a hundred of the present generation of Philadelphians have ever seen his tomb. Thousands pass daily within a few feet of the spot where his ashes, and those of his wife, repose, without being conscious of the fact, or, if aware of it, unable to obtain a glimpse of the grave. The bones of the lightning-tamer lie within a very short distance of Arch street, in the north-west corner of Christ Church grave yard, at fifth and Arch streets. As is gen erally known, the spot is marked by a slab of marble, which is almost level with the earth, and which bears the simple inscrip tion, “Benjamin and Deborah Franklin.” If the wall at this point were removed, and a neat iron railing erected in its stead, ev ery passer-by would be afforded the gratifi cation of seeing the grave; a gratification now very difficult to obtain, in a Phila delphia newspaper, published in 1 )ecember, A. D., 1774, we find the following notice of the death of Mrs. Franklin:—“On Monday, the nineteenth instant, died, at an advanced age, Mrs. Deborah Franklin, wile of Dr. j Benjamin Franklin; and on the Thursday following her remains were interred in the Christ Church burying-ground.” The an nouncement of the death and burial of Mrs. Franklin was as simple and unostentatious as the slab and its pithy inscription, which marks her final resting place. [Phil. Bulletin. Proof that the Moon is not Inhabited. —Dr. Scores!>y, in an account that he has given of some recent observations made with the Earl of Boss’s telescope, says:— “With respect to the moon, every object on its surface of 100 feet was now distinctly to be seen; and he had no doubt, that under very favorable circumstances, it would be so with objects GO feet in height. On its sur face were craters of extinct volcanos, rocks and massess of stones almost innumerable. He had no doubt that if such a building as he was then in were upon the surface of the 1 moon, it would be rendered distinctly visi ble by these instruments. But there were no signs of habitations such as ours—no vestiges of architecture remain to show that the moon is or ever was inhabited by a race ol mortals similar to ourselves, It present ed no appearance which could lead to the supposition that it contained anything like the green fields and lovely verdure of this beautiful world of ours. There was no wa ter visible—not a sea or a river, or even the measure of a reservoir for supplying town or factory—all seemed desolate.” The Poor Boy’s College. — The print ing ollice has indeed proved a better college to many a poor boy—has graduated more useful and conspicuous members of society —has brought more intellect and turned it into practical, useful channels—awakened more mind—generated more active and ele vated thought, than many of the literary colleges of the country. J low many a dunce has passed through these colleges with no tangible proof of fitness, other than his in animate piece of parchment; himself, if pos sible, more inanimate than his leather di ploma I There is something in the very atmosphere of a printing office calculated to awaken the mind and inspire a thirst for knowledge. A boy who commences in such a school, will have his talents and ideas brought out—or he will be driven out him- [Wavcrley. Reasons for not Paying for a News paper.—The Richmond Christian Advo cate publishes the following extract from a letter:—“Please say to the editor of the Richmond Christian Advocate, that it would doubtless be well to erase the name C C from his books, and give up as lost that S7,GO. Ho says, in the first place, he never ordered the paper, and if he did, he never got it, and if he did, twas as an agent; and besides, he thinks he paid for it long ago, and if he didn't he’s got noth ing to pay, and if he hud, he could plead the act cf limitation.” Simple Division. W c heard a story the other night on the subject of division, which we thought good at the time, and never having seen it in print, wo are tempted to give our readers the benefit of it. A Southern planter named P , pret ty well to do in the world now, was some twenty years ago a poor boy on the eastern shore of Maryland. One of the strongest and most marked traits of his character, was a most inordinate love of money. This, however, is characteristic of the people of them diggings, where they practice skin ning strangers during brisk seasons, and skinning one another daring dull times. In the course of time 1* was of age, and thought it time to get married. He went to a neighboring town, and in the course of events was introduced to a daughter of Judge B. ‘Dang tine gal,’ said the embryo specula tor to the friend who was giving him an en trance among the elite. ‘Very.’ ‘How much might B. be worth?’ ‘Why, about §10,000,’ was the prompt reply. ‘And how many children has he got?’ continued the inquirer. ‘Only three.’ ‘Three into ten goes three times and a third over,’ mentally cyphered 1’ . Here was a chance—a glorious chance— and he improved it too. He made love to the beautiful and unsophisticated daughter of the Judge, with variations. Strange to say—for he was as uncouth a cub as ever went unlicked—his suit prospered, and they were married. The honeymoon passed off as all other honeymoons do, and they were happy. The bride was lively and chatty, and often made allusions to her brothers and sisters. Start led at a number of names be thought should not be in the catalogue of relations, one evening at tea be said— ‘My dear, 1 thought there was only three of you.’ ‘So there are by my ma, but pa's first wife had eight more.’ ‘Eleven go into ten no time, and narif one over!' said the astonished P , who jump ed up, kicked the bucket over the chair, and groaned in perfect agony, T’m sold! and a darned sight cheaper than an old bell wether sheep at that 1’ Cool.—An ex-commission merchant, con fessing his rascality, says he once sent the following ‘returns’ for a crop of corn con signed him: Mr. Brown—Sir: I have, according to your instruction, made a forced sale of your corn, and received §475 00 Against which I have commission— Fur Boatage 125 00 Cartage 12 00 Wheelage 12 50 Storage 00 00 Katage 30 00 Salcage 45 00 §314 50 Leaving, as you perceive, a balance in your favor of §l6O 50 Vou can draw upon me for that sura.— Trusting that you will honor me with still further consignments, 1 remain, sir, yours sincerely, Sam S win ton. By the next mail Mr. Brown sent back the account, with these words at the bot tom: “You infernal villain! put in stealage, and keep the whole of it!” ■ “Hard Shell Baptists” are a well-known sect in the South and South west. They are not related, that we know of, to the Hurd Shell Democrats in this State,though their christen name is thesame. They go dead against all bible, temperance, and education societies; hate missions to the heathen, and all modern schemes for con verting the rest of mankind. Of course they are opposed to learning, and speak as they are suddenly moved. A Georgia cor respondent writes to the Drawer, and re lates the following of one of our preachers: Two of them were in the same pulpit to gether. While one was preaching he hap pened to say, ‘When Abraham built the ark.’ The one behind him strove hard to cor rect his blunder by saying out loud, ‘Abra ham irarn't thar .’ But the speaker pushed on, heedless of the interruption, and only took occasion shortly to repeat, still more decidedly, T sav, when Abraham built the ark. '•And 1 say,’ cried the other, ‘ Abraham warnt thar.' The Hard Shell was too hard to be beat en down in this way. and addressing the 1 people, exclaimed, with great indignation, ‘I say Abraham was thar, or thar abouts.’ Kinnev's Gold Mines.—A gentleman of this city who was formerly a resident of Grevtowu. and traveled a good deal in Cen tral America and Nicaragua, writes us that the story of a mining enterprise on Indian river, published in tiic Cental American, is all humbug, ife says that the most noted productions of Indian river are intermittent fever and alligators—that in fact, it is not a river at all, but a lagoon, formed from the waters of the San Juan. He knows all of Kinney’s territory, and says it is an inch under water for nine months in the year, and an inch over during the remaining three months. He thinks that the only thing that would pay in that country would be raising alligators, as their oil is a specific for rheumatism. [Evening Bulletin. Serpents are said to obey the voice of their masters; the trumpeter bird of A merica follows its owner like a spaniel, and the jacana acts as a guard to poultry, pre serving them in the fields all the day from birds of prey, and escorting them home reg ularly at niffht. In the Shetland Isles there is a gull which defends the flock from ea gles; it is therefore regarded as a privileged bird. The chamois, bounding among the snowy mountains of the Caucasus, are in debted for their safety, in no small degree, to a particular species of pheasant. This bird acts as their sentinel; for as soon us it gets sight of a man it whistles, upon hear ing which the chamois, knowing the hunter to be not far distant, sets off with the great est speed, and seeks the highest peaks of the mountains. The artifices which part ridges and plovers employ to delude their enemies from the nest of their young, may be referred to as a case in point, as well as the adroit contrivance of the hind for the preservation of her young; for when she hears the sound of dogs, she puts herself in the way of the hunters, and starts in a di rection to draw them away from her fawns. Instances of the effect of grief upon animals are also no less remarkable. The writer already cited soys: "1 knew a dog that died for the loss of its master, and a bulfinch that abstained from singing ten entire months on account of the absence of its mistress. On her return it immediately re sumed its song.” Lord Kaimes relates an instance of a canary, which, while singing to its mate hatching her eggs in a cage, tell dead; the female quitted her nest, and find ing him dead, rejected all food, and died by bis side.— [Waverly Magazine. Voting L nderstandixolv. —Some years ago, when the Legislature of one of the Middle States were framing a Constitution, the discussion of its various provisions was very warm and obstinate. Many days kid been spent in debate, and the vote was at length about to be taken. Just at this moment a country member, who had been absent for some days previously, entered the House and took his seat. Another member who was in favor of the amended Constitution, went to him and endeavored to make a convert of him. “You must vote for the Constitution, by all means,” said he. ‘•I’ll think of it,” said the honorable coun try member. “But you must make up your mind at once, ray man, for the vote is about to be taken.” The country member scratched his liead and seemed puzzled. “Come, why do you hesitate? Will you promise me to vote for the Constitution? I am sure it will give general satisfaction to all.” “I'll vote for it on one condition,” said the country member. “What is that?” “And no other, by gracious.” “But what condition is it?” “Why, that they let it run through my farm.” is more common than to hear the foreigners in this country boasting of the vastly better and cheaper things they used to have in that blessed land they came from; but the truth comes out very neatly in this conversation we overheard in mar ket the other day: An Irishman asks a Long Island woman the price of a pair of fowls, and is told, “A dollar.” “And a dollar is it, my darlint; why in my country you might buy them for six pence apiece.” “And why didn’t you stay in that blessed cheap country?” “Och, faith, and there was no sixpence there, to be sure !” lu America children are perpetual ly “watered,” as though they were amphib ious animals. In the East Indies children are rarely washed in water; but they are oiled every day. A child’s head cau be kept much cleaner if oiled than without it, and many young persons with hectic okeks would probably never know the last days of consumption if their parents would insist on having the chest, back ami limbs anoint ed with sweet oil two or three times a week. The Hebrew physicians seem to have con sidered oil as more efficacious than any oth er remedy. The sick were always anoint ed with oil as the most powerful means that was known of checking disease. few nights ago, a Mr. Bodkin, who had been out taking his glass and pipe, on going home late, borrowed an umbrella, and when his wife's tongue was loosened, he sat up and suddenly spread out the parnpu lie. “What are you going to do with that thing?” said she. -\\ hy, my dear. I expected a very heavy storm to-night, and so 1 came prepared.” In less than two minutes Mrs. Bodkins was fast asleep. of our exchanges tells a story of an editor out West, who wished to marry a blue-eyed damsel of his neighborhood, and asked the consent of her father. The old man, as every prudent father should do, in quired how much money he could bring the bride. The editor said he had no money, but he would give her a puff k his paper. He married the girl, of course. A voung man and a female once upon a time stopped at a country tavern. eii awkward appearance excited the attention of one of the family, who commenced con versation with the female, by inquiring bow far she had traveled that day? ’ traveled, exclaimed the stranger, somewhat indig nantly. ‘we didn’t travel! tee rid! NO. 4.