Decatur Eagle, Volume 1, Number 12, Decatur, Adams County, 1 May 1857 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE."

VOL. 1.

THE DECATUR EAGLE. vrBL’.SnED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING. „ Y Wa'n Street, ’tithe old School Homo, J ° s ‘one S<P arb lforth ° r J& ? Crabs ' SiOr ®’ Terms of Subscription : Ker one ten...ill 50. in advance; $1 7.'>, yithin l r . r r.i •£ ■ after the v?ai has expired, h' trNo pap* r will be discontinued until all . L rr 7raa.s ar<‘ paid, except at the option of the | Publisher. Terms of Advertising: One Square, three insertions, SIOO p. r h subsequent insertion, « I advertisement will be const, ered less throne square; ever one square - ill be conn - tld .nd charged as two, as three, etc. : JOB PRINTING. W.. arc prepare.! to do all kinds of JOB wniti; in a n'-r.t and workmanlike manner on •L most'reasonable terms. Our materia, for , he completion of Job-work bemg new and of the latest styles, wo are confident Liat satisfac- , lion can be given. Law of Newspapers. 1 Subscribers who do not give express notice ' fothe contrary, are considered as wishing to | rnntinue their Rtibscrinttons. « If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publisher may continue to send : them until all arrearages are pa,-.. 3 If subscribers neglect orrefusetotuKeth papers from the.-ffiee they ar.’ held respons.b e {•,” th( , v . !avf , settled the bill and ordered the ! ’’Tli'sXcribers’remove ’ n °i’'erplaces with-.Vrn-motr..- publisher, and the paper is . sent to the former direction, they arc held r ' rrThe Court have decided that refusing of I t»keannp.’rfr..m the office, or removed and leavim: :t uncalled foriSEBiMA facie evidence of | intentional fraud. _ . . “PI REI Y AC< JPENTAL.” I There was no blame to any one No fault could be detected; Th,.-,, was m> charge of carelessness; Noeaution was neglected, Though broken limbs, and brains knock’d out W.*own are detrimental, Such things alas! will come topass; They’re purely accidental. A second train dispatch’d, while yet Scarce out of sight the last one; The first a goods train, lumb’riiig, slow; The one behind fast oneThe first train stops; the next comes up; When both to smash are sent all; Who could foreknow'twould happen so?— It’s purely accidental! One signal sav-**, *‘Go on—au right; Another “Stop—there’s danger!’’ The driver knows not what to do. He’s on the line a Strang’ r. But he’ll soon find cut which is right. Bv means experimental; So dashes past both first and last; He’s smash’d ’twat accidental! Ti e drivers, who are overwork d, Sent out to work half sleeping, . And trains delay’d till they’ve uochance Their proper chance of keeping; And station masters not o’er bless d With faculties called mentai, — All show, we trust, collisions must Be p irely accidental! Anyer is like rain; it breaks itself on what it falls upon. God never wrought mi<acles to convince atheism, because Lis ordinary works convince it Os all the passions, jealously is that which exacts the hardest service, and paysthe bitterest wages. He stands but n poor chance of amending the world who cannot at the same time amuse it. The rich patient cures the poor the I physician much more u;:en than the poor I physician the neb patient. The shortest life is long enough if it lead to a better, and the longest life is too short if it do not. Knowledge is twofold, it consists not | only in an affirmation of what is irue, but in the negation of that which is false. He that will believe only what he can fully comprehend must have a very .oug head or a very short creed. A lady who takes no care of her own person before marriage will take as ii.tie of her household after. It is the greatest cl.arm of intimacy that one is not under the continual necesily of explaining one’s thoughts. ~ The rule for gracefulness is in one word—nature. Whatever is dene in an Unaffected manner is done well. Boy.— l say, yon! are you engaged at anything in particular! Young Gent. — You impudent youm scamp, what are you hollering after me for. Boy — Oh, nothing much; only if. you ain’t I’d like to borrow your upper lip to polish my boot* with.

FOREST SKETCH. BY COL WALTER P. DUNLAP. I SNUFFING A SNUFFEfi. We had a hard day’s work, nful j had accomplished jucl nc*’.in" nt all.— L<n had shot one huge bird—l don’t know what it was, as I did not see it: but from ; his discription of it, I supposed it must, have been a turkey-buzzard. He shot, the bird, and it fell nmougsome bushes, lie went to the placa, an.l the bird hobbled off. Ben gave chase, afid after following it nearly half a mile, he managed to catch it. Old Fitzeben was with him. and as lie got the game within his power he glorified himself exceedingly. ‘Guess ’taint good for noft’n old feller,’, said the cook. •Just you wail.’ •But it smells strong,’ pursued Fitz. ‘I differ,’ cried Ben. ‘lt.s noff’n but skin, and fedders, and bone.’ suggested the persistent darkey. •It mates nary difference,’ returned ' Ben 1 ‘You'll cook it, or over goes yourj As Ben spoke he hel I the bird up by the huge tail leathers; and while he shook the game in Fitzebcn’s face, the broad wings leaped apart, and. with one unearthly yell, the dearly-caught buxzird ( gave a spring, and away he went, leaving' the fat hunter with his han ! full of feath-j ers, gazing rather foolishly after the | swiftly-departing evidence of his skill. After supper, while we were moaning! over the fruitless result of one day’s labor J Fitzeben told us the story of Ben’s Luz-1 zard. This brought us to good humor,; and as soon as the laugh, which bad thus, been raised nt Ben’s expense, passed on, Ned Hobson spoke: ‘Well, boys,' he said, ‘as humor seems i to be the order of the evening, suppose I j (ell you about a comical affa*r that came under my own observation some time since? . We told him to go ahead, and thus bid- ’ den he went on as follows: — ! ‘Some years ago —but not many, how-ever-1 kept a hotel at Island Pond, in ’ ■the State of Vermont. It was at the I j Yankee end of the Atlantic and St. Lawj netted Railroad. It was a very fair stand, and we had no reason to complain of ti c ■ amount of custom; but I didn’t exactly , fancy the country nor the climate. ; winters there were too cold for comfort:. ! and the summers were no better than could be found elsewhere. Among the various things winch we: had for the amusement ot our patrons: where two black beAr.-. between two and I iiiree years old. They had been taken , ,in cage-trap by my partner when quite , young, and had since been brought up on our place. They were very playful, and, J nev'T lilnatun d if they were nut anoyed. , : Rabbits were plenty in the neighborhood, but we had never yet given them any: ! fresh meat. We fancied it '■ ' r.'item savage. At al! events, we gave them as :.;ucN bread and vegetables as they' could cat, and the result was that they | had none sf that ugliness which you see ■ |in tame bears that are fed on game. : They would pl..y with any one, though i | sometimes rather roughly. ■ ‘Onedr.yia Augifst, among the trav-j I eliers who stopped at our hole! w :s a I queer-looking, chap, who seemed prei pared to t ike the whole place by storm j As he entered the office he had upon one arm a carpet-bag. upon the other n game : bag, upon liis right siioulner a doublI barrelled rifle, upon his left a doubl- l n - | relied fowling-piece, whi e strapped to | Lis Lack was a disjointed fish-pole, and j suspended to a patent-leather belt about his waist was a huge bowie-knife. Behind bin came our porter with a common gin-case, another carpet-bag, a fish-bas-ket, and a pistol-box. •You niay think from this tliaf the man who owned all this was a huge, savagej looking fellow. Ii you do. you are much i mistaken. He was a cornicle ' chap all 'over. His body was rather slim, and i had a kind of fop sided bend to it sideways—just as though one side was hsavi ier than the other His legs were bowc-d, but no*, in nor out, they bent backwaids, i ;so that when he stood erect th-. beemed (almost ready to collapse, or fold up the I wrong way.' And then hu face was far from being a savage-looking face. His head was rather long and narrow; his leurs standing out some; his Iconscience, such eyes! They took up nearly half the face and I verily btliev vou could have hung a hat on either one lof them. His nose was a monstrous nose. Fie said ’(was a Roman nose. But it was really necessary to fill up the f<».c. I He wrote his name in the register ' |Af. Young Rudolf. M. D., I looked at it a long time, and wondered what it I cotlid mean. That 'Ap ’ pr.szled nie.— But my partner, whos name w.is ‘u.icr said there was an American commodore , incur navy named‘Ap.Catesby Jones Still this didn’t satisfy tne; and on inc ! first favorable opportunity I asked him. 2i 8U .ust after supper. Iww alone in

“Our Country’s Good shall ever be our Aim—Willing to Praise and not afraid to Blame."

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY, INDIANA, MAY 1,1857,

I the office, and he came in for a cigar.— ■ I opened the reiroO’”-; tn’l t'len toll! him 1 didn't wich to be impudent, bull mid a I curiosity to know it the ‘Ap ' at the coin- ; mcncement of his name was a real Christian cognomen. ‘Ai,/ he said, throwing himself into a comical attitude, and putting on a most knowing lo;k, ‘that same thing has puzzled thousands — thousands, sir! It is not a Christian appellative, sir, but. is a signigitieation ot one ot my professions.— ; As you will see, by the last part of my name, I am a physician,'-ir,—a physician, nr! And i ttiu more—l am an apothc- . cai y.sir,— n.n apothecary! It is an impor tant profession, sir,—an important pro- ' lession; as the lives ol thousands may depend upon the skill with which the pro ’ Sessional dispenser of drug's chemicals, poisons, minera’s, and medicines may ! ! compound his prescriptions, sir, which : ' are to kill or to cure! Apothecary, sir, is ( I the word. Y’oung is the American cog-1 I nomen given ine by my worthy father, i sir. Rudolf has iv deeper signification,' sir. You may have heard ot Rudolf of’ , Hapsburg—the first of that mighty Aus- | tnan house, sir. His name was Rudolf; my name is Rudolf. I leave you to draw I your own conclusion, sit I’ ‘That is just about the yvay he spoke; i and with that he lit his cigar and walked ts. I made up nay mind very soon I touching /iis character. Th.it evening be > asked me if tbeie was any game about the place. 1 told him there was plenty jof it; and he then informed me that he intended to spend some time there. He 1 i said he was nn experienced hunter, and i ; had cor.e up there partly to get away . from the wearing labor of his profession, i and parllv to amuse himself tn the woods. I ‘I allow no manto go ahead of me in I the use ol tire-arms, sir!’ be said. ‘I have .hunted wild beasts in all parts of the world, sir. I have shot the wil-l tig“r of i Spain, sir: and snuffed the gigantic elc-1 ! pliant of Navarre! I have chased the I I antelope over the plains of Shinali, and' ,-.luiied the rovnl lionofßeng.il have! . fought hand “> hand with the mighty an- ; ' aconda of the Nile, and snuffed the huge | i crocodile of lite great Sahara! I never misseii my mark; nor did i ever turn from my foe. Give me my trusty knife and i ; fear no living thing!’ ‘I soon found that the fellow bragged | 'to others just the same as he did to me; ; and 1 kne-v he did it earnestly. He had '.lutj'cd' all sol is of game, lie had snuf- ! fed a candle at twenty paces, and snuffed | : 'his man, at ten. In short, lie had snuf-: i fed everything but his own tongue. I i 'For three days Ap. Young F.t: lolf, M. j D., shoulJer°d his fowling piece after cacn . meal and posted oft for the woods, r.nd <ch time came back empty-handed. He ; said he had seen nothing worth shooting. ! and hence had not discharged his gun — : But wo knew boiler than that, for we had ■ heard the report of his piece often. He said lie had ' oped t’at he might fall in with some bears when he came up. lie I didn’t expect to find anything of any -onsequence; but still if he could even j find half-a-dozen old b. nrs it would be better than no sport at all. _ i ‘I ventured to ask him if he ever shot : a black bear. Hol’ said l.e, with a look of astonishment ‘l’ve shot hundreds of them, sir,— hundreds of them!, ••But.’ said I. suptdfo you should ; come across one when you liad no gun ; ‘He put. his hand on his bowie-knife, which he wore at his side, and with a tremendous bluster he told me, —‘I shoul simply give, him a taste of cold steel, sir, of cold steel! The bear never lived who could overcome me. With my trusty ! knife I could snuff any bear that ever trod the i .r’h, sir,—that ever trod the earth! •An idea had entered my Lead. I knew that Young Rudolf had not seen our bears. A number of gentlemen were ( stopping a* the hotel who owned dogs, and as these animals anncyeG . poor bears exceedingly, we had shut them up in a loft of the stable until oilr dog-owning natrons should depart. No one had been at aii intimate v.itli, or communicative to. the heroic Ap., so he had noteven heard . of our bears. i communicated my plan to some of , the sojourners, and they delighted; and all agreed to help me. I hey had become disgusted will: the fellow s insufferable bra “'in s and were anxious to see him taken down a peg. Or. .boy wanted to , see the ‘snuffer sniffed!' as some of them expressed 1.. ■My plan was this: Both the bears were not only very tame, but one of them ■ the heaviest —had been taught several tricks. Glickey had learned him to ffre off a pistol by pulling at, a string which was attached to the t'igger; and he had . also learned him to play dead when Cred at. Two years before a circus company were in that section, and with them was ’alenrneddog that did this. O.rc ‘ s were then verv small, and Glickey de- • termined to learn one of them to perform that same tiirk. And he did it to per'eci tion. The General— so we called the fa-

vorite bein', — would drop id an instant if anyone stood near him and d a gun ‘ et lum and fired. His next t’ jvv-ment vvuuid depend upon circumstances. Ata sign from Glickey or myself lie would get up «•»>•! bmp around on three legs, as though he had been shot in the other one. ‘However—l knew if the bn<r<» Sniffer fired at the General he would fail, and I furthermore knew that if Snuffer approached him L.e would get up to play with him. .‘.nd, finally. I imagined that, Sniilffr might i itn; and if he did I knew General would run after him. ?.t nny rat- .’ was willing to venture ti e result - . , > < v Snuffer’s knife was eencerned. ‘This was in the morning. In the as ternoon 1 told the snuffing Rudolf that I believed there was a black bear over beyond a certain piece of woods, •Where?’ lie cried, spinning around' like a top. ‘Just over beyond that open lot,’ I told him, pointing out the place.— He turned, and 1 could seen pecular; quiver of the lips as he looked off. I ted his thoughts in a moment. ‘Let’s go and shuff him,’ said he. •Who?’ said I. ‘O—the lot of us.’ said lie. ‘Daren’t vou go alone, just to shoot a common black bear?’ said I. •What?’ he yelled, leaping up till his crooked legs looked like the two halves of a broken skirthoop turned backwards.— ; •Daren’t 7 go? Where’s your bear? Sliuw’ me an army of’em!’ ‘There’s on’y one, I guess; and that’s a young one. I told him. i ‘From that moment the Snuffer was .rampant. He flew around like a bunch of crooked spikes suspended by a twisted string. He got his double-barrelled rifle and loaded it carefully, and then went to pul! on his leather leggings. A gentleman >n the house, who had a steel rod armed at one end with a very fine, sharp screw, made on purpose for extracting | balls, caught the rifle and soon had both ; bullets out. A couple of wads were then 1 driven in and the piece put back in its : place some live minu cs before Snuffer . made liis appearance. .From Young Rudolf’s manner I very 1 readily concluded that be did not mean to find the bear. He ment to gain the cover of the woods, and there hide himself until such time as he could consistI ently return with the story that he’d ' hunted in vain, and so on. Fo I had taken my steps accordingly. We knew that either one of the bears might be taken out with safety, for one would not go off ; and leave the other. Perhaps if both had I been left in the woods together they ; would have gone off; but we knew that if ' one were to be set down in the woods any where alone he would make for his mate. ‘Glic.k' v Lai taken ti c General out, the dogs having been shut ’p, and I had instructed him to leave him in the sledpath only some fifteen or twenty rods from the edge of the wood; having first fed him to repletion. Bruin was taken out blindfolded. so that Glickey might have ;.n opportunity tn git out of Ins way and hide; for the General would not have left his master otherwise. The hoodwink was so fixed that the bare could pull it off with his paws in a few moments. ‘Of cource Glickey was in the wood to watch, so we had all the Snuffer’s move ments in detail; and I will give them in regular older. •The heroic compounder of drugs, poisj ons, and medicines shouldered liis bul- : letkss rifle, and with his huge knife at I his side, he started. When he had gainled the wood he turned to sec if he was ■ shutout from our sight. At a few steps futher Glickey from his hidihg place, saw j him. He got fairly into the wood and 'topped. Having gazed around, he cocked 1 his rifle —both hammers—and then moved I forward much as a man would who was 1 going among a gang of robbers of a dark night. Presently lie slopped, and looked ! around ngain. A tree-toad neat at hand ! ga.'e a croak. Suuffer leaped a foot from the ground, and shook like an aspen.— I Directly he saw something black in the : path before him. It, was a bear! ‘For a moment tl;e poor fellow was tco j weak to move. But the bear had stopped, ! and with a frantic movement lie brought his rifle to Ids should and fired. Had there 1 been a ball itt it Glickey would have been shot, ns likely as not. Yet the bear uiopped. Aye—Snitffer saw him fall! lie stood there trembling for half a minute, and then, drawing his knife, lie rushed forward. He had gone half way when Bruin aiose! Snuffer g ive one yell of terror and turned. He ran a duz.n steps, land then looki.l behind him. The bear was after him at full leap! « •Snuffer dropped knife and rifle, and ran for dear life. The bear gained on him blit the heroic Snuffer bad ten rod’ the start. We. who stoo l upon the stoop of the hotel, heard the yells of the frightened man’ and we joined him. I never saw a more ludicrous sight. The poor fellow’s hat was gone —his long hair was firing in the wind—his bent legs were mov’"" as I never saw legs move before —and bis yells for help were frantic. Old

Bruin seemed t enjoy the sport hugely ' 1 He entered into it with a zest, nndyitt in ' with ail his power. ‘At jviigth Ap* Y’oung Rudolf, M D., ' reached the stoop. •Ohl Metcy! Save .me! Don’t let him get me! Don’t let him eat me up! Oh! oh! i 0-o-o-ho! B-o-o-o-li!’ ‘With this dying slun k upon his lips he sank down upon the sloop, and cover i cd his face wit i, his I ;.r.ds. ‘Look out!’cried b:.'e cf the "boarders. ! *OL! O o-o-oh-ho! —Bo o-o-ob!' yelled Soulier, with a spasmodic leap to his feet where he 'tpgff, thy very type of absolute 1 , •eri '.-.- and 'l,i-p iir. Those eyes of his i looked uvw lit.o two ylnfi. s of jrlo'V- ; ing mattar sticking out from lits head — his hair seemed to stand on end —hisiiands were half raised, witii the fingors spread ' —and Lis whoie frame shook as though it would fall in pieces. ‘Look here, Snuffer,’ said I. He looked, and saw the '■' ■ar at my feet with liis ’•end Upon mv knee, and I patting hts I shaggy shoulder! •Tiic man started back and took anotli- ! er look.’ ‘ls—n---that--»a —the—a —b-b-b-car ?’ ; he gasped sinking together like a wet urn- ' brella. •Y'es sir,’ said I. ‘Was ye afraid he’d snuff ye?J ‘Ap. Young Rudolf, M. D. stood a full minute gazing first upon me, then the bear. Then he turned anti entered the house — That night he had supper in his room; and ! after that lie gave a bow two shillings to ; go out and gut liis gun an i knife. How he slept that night 1 don't know. All I know is, on the next morning he took the down trai.i for Portland—carpet-bags, 1 hu.iuing-b'igs, giu-e.ue, guns, knives and' all—ami I have notscen him since; though I have heard that lie keeps an apothec i ■ rv’s shop, or did a short time since, in a ; village not far from the afoien.entiota-d i rail road. And ev.-n there thestory leaked I out; so that, to tlds day, he is called the = The Snuffer.’ — .... , Your Change, Sir. ' ; One of those modest specimens of hui inanity, called dandies, tiavehing through ' Connecticut a lew years since in his own b irrowed conveyance, was brought up ■ with a round turn at a toll-gate, which IJ he designed to have passed without pay' 1; the usual fee. When he found himself in ■’ limbo, from which he could hot escape . ' without forking over,’ be inquired of a I young lady who was in attendance at the ! > gale, Low much he had to pay Defore he . could pass the formidable barrier. I 'Three cents, Sir, is the charge for single wagons, replied the young lady. ‘Three cents is threepence, the hall of . sixpence; one of the smallest bits of silver I in use, eh! young woman-— am I right?' the datrdy; fetlitig his pocket for the ’ i change. i 'Three cents, Sir, if you please.’ said ■ the lady. i ‘ln your office of highway-man, young II woman, you will subtract the amount of j ■ your dei.umd from this piece, and return me lilt balance as conveniently quick as '■ your ordinary locomotion will allow,' said ; the dandy gentleman, nt the same time i purposely dropping a shilling piece into the mud beneath his wagon. ‘Ah! there, i it is in the mttd I declare I wouldn’t dirtv mv lingers i'oftvVetitt of them.’ ■| The young lady took the shilling from ■; the mud, where he had dropped it, went | : in the hotise and rtiitrned with nine cents, which she placed immediately under the t; wheel, where she bad taken up the sfiii--1 : Ihlg. - ‘Hillo, hillo, young woman, what is 1 j that you mean,’ said the dandy. ‘Why | I j don’t you put the coin into my hand, eh?’ I ! She archly replied, ‘Sir, 1 found you r , s| money under the wagon; there you will < find your change’—and as she turned to • go into the hour-, she wave the fellow a I most significant smile, and added, 1 i wouldn’t dirty my fingers for twenty ot | ■■them! would you Mr. Dandy-man?—La, - j ha, ha,— there’s your change, Sir, and j she closed the door. )' The gentleman dismounted, picked ‘up , ! his copper’s and was off full speed, impat lient to get out of sight and hearing. If 1 ? he should ever happen in that country i again, he will take care how 116 makes -ichange '.vith Yatiket- girls. , A couple of Yankee gills put a bull-; 1 frog in the hired man’s bed, to see if they i could not get him to talk. Daniel threw - the frog out of the window and never aid , a word. Soon after be put a hall a bush-. t el of chesnut burs in the girls bed, and about tile time Le thought they would 1 make the least shadow, Daniel went to i ■ the door and rattled the latch furiously Ont went tb.e light and in w. nt the girls, ; f and they didn’t slick, but the burs did.— . Calling them, he begged them to be qrir et for he only wanted to know it th-y had , r ‘seen anything of that pe«ky hull-frog he’d s gin tew dollars tew find him.’ 3 „ -IB - . e: Men are like money, they roust be tagj tn as, the value for which they pass.

How to make Ten Thousand a year. Lor • trine ago, when I was eighteen years old, I was in tiie habit of going, in fine weather, to spend Sunday al Versaiies where my mother lived. It was nty custum to walk there and to return i- -,ae e:' the cars, always going backward and forwards. Ou ray way thither, I was always sure to meet with a beggar, who passedliis w hole time on the road, holding out his hat to every passerby wi'h the same dismal cry — ‘Charity, sir; charity, my good lady!’ One d iv, when I was throwing my penny into his hat, a well dressed man passed bv, to whom Antonie appealed in the usual manner;— CLainy, s>r, chant) 1' The gentleman stopped and eyeing, the beggar, said: ‘Y'o’.t seem s'rong nnd able to work, my friend: why do you centinua tins wretched mode of life? I can show you how to make ten thousand france (two : thousand dollars) a j ear.' At this Antonie burst otit laughing. ‘Laugh as much as you please.’ an- ; swered tL" gentleman. ‘What I tell vou Hs ncveriiivb.js, true; Jam myself un example of it. I was once as poor ns You. but in-dend of begg.ng I went round all the m ighboiing villages coih cling ail the rags I could find. These I sold to the paper factories. At the end of th" year, 1 was able to keep a little cart and an ass to carry on my trade with. ‘Five years afterwards I was in possession ofthirtv thousand fiances,(s:x thou- ’ sand dollars ) I married the daughter of they j:er meichcnt, who took me into his linn. Now lam the owner of two houses in paris, and I have given up the business so my sou. Do as 1 have d.-ne, 1 mv fitend, and, like me, yon will become rich.’ So saying, ti.e gen.iemau took hi* ‘ d< nat lure. In 1815, I went one day info a booksei- ; ler’s shop. A great stout man was walk* ! ing up and down, gh ing orders to five or six clei ks. We looking at each other for some time. At last he siad: ‘Sir were you not on tour way to Versailcs on foot one morning, about twentyfive years ago?’ •Wiiiti!’ exclaimed I,‘is it you Antonie?” ‘Sir,’ replied he, ‘yen now see tho old gentleiuan was riuht; he hits helped meta i«o thousand dollars a year.' — iVaeh' Star. The Expected Messenger. For w. art days and nights Lis coming had been aiiiicipated. i Love had kept its knigtly vigils by the ' eradle-side, and soleiun, thoughtful hours they were. ‘Hope agai. ht hope’ kept the heart from bur.tiug. Oi.ly those who I have waited anxiously, and waited long, ■n miini’til-suspense, Can appreciate such i thrilling moments. At midnight, when all was silent as 1 the grave save the quick, shutl breathing iof the little sleeper, a Watcher said, 'He will come ereilie mbihing sun looks in at ; the window.’ ‘Oh that lie might tarry long, yea, fore vr r,' was the first impulsive outburst of bleeding heart! Unv ' l-'oiuc messengers darken every door they inter. But O', how dark when the visitor comes to dash away cups of human joys! Say, reader, did you ever wait through the still, solemn night fur the coming of : such a guest? When the dock struck twelve, was there no startling s gnific mco in the announcement, ‘He will come ero the sun i- up!’ How much of life, hope, and f< ar, were crowded into those remaiuJ ing hours' For a moment we rested upon a pillow —Dreams, full of blight; Heavenly visions, delighted the spirit., as it bore it , away lb Elysium fields. But the sweet spell was broken by the sound of a voice —‘He has come! He has come!’ lu an ins', bit we were leaning over the cradfe, : and looking into the face of our angle babe. Sure enough (and none but those who iiave had the bitter experience can know how tembleis the reality) the expeeled messenger had come. Hi. namw was Death. Tiie following very brilliant specimen of ‘Young A met icanistu,’ we think is too good to be l'”t One night Freddy had been put to bed, and mother and Jonny were in an adjoining room. Presently Johnny cut up some capter, on which mother threatened to ‘take him into an other room and whip ‘Mother,’ said Fvddy’s voice under the bed-t’o’.l es, ‘I know where I’d take him.’ •Where?’ said mother, whose cutiosity was excited. ‘l’d take him under the left car!’ This morning a uutid said loan liish- . mar.-— ‘Good morning Patrick—slippery this tnoril ng.’ ‘Slippery? And bejabers, it is nothing else, your honor; upon my word. I "lid ' down three times without getting up one*.

NO, 12.