Decatur Eagle, Volume 1, Number 21, Decatur, Adams County, 3 July 1857 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE.

VOL. 1.

■ipHEDECATUII EAGLE. .w-OSXH . ■ published every Friday morning. on Main Street, in the old School Mouse, I ouo Square North of J. & ? Crabs’ Store. j * Terms of Subscription: one year, fk! 50, in advance; s'J. 75, •• ithin fStix months; -0, after the year has expired. ST JJ* No paper will be discontinued until all are paid, except at the opt inn of the ■ ■publisher. Terms of Adv rtising: I On<» Square, tlirce i i:>.-/.ri:<.ns, $: 00 ; S Each sub lH*ut - . wrtton, ■ O’No advertisement will be considered le s ■taom: square, one *q » re ' id be Imm - and charged as two; ovi two, ns three, etc. I JOB PRINTING. | We are prepared to do all kinds of JOB ! SWORK, in a neat and workmanlike manner,on ! Stlie most, reasonable term- Our material for completion of Job-wi. • being new and of ’ K,he latest style.’, w ar- cm lent that satisfac■tiem can be given. Jhaw of New .oners. I 1. Subscribers who di. n ■ive express notice the contrary, rre cousin . d as wishing to ■continue their subscription | 2. If subscribers order ti; discontinuance of' ® heir papers, the publish ■' ;.y continue to send until all arrearages 1. ;■ 3. Ifsubscribers neglect <w refuse to take their Alpers from the I'.’h’e they hld responsible Bill they have settled the : Aland ordered the 9heiper discontinued. I If subscribers remove '•> other places with- j .Ac.' informing the publisher, and the paper is .>tdl sent to the former direction,they are held ■responsible. I <LF'fhe Court havr decided that, refusing of i Bako a pa' w from i.ie off. • or removed and ]. ving it uncalled for is nus.i i-.wn. evidence of ®itentional fraud.

I In a country paper, the marriage of a I Mr. Cooper to Miss Stave, is announced. '.>'ue result will probably be hoops and I ..rrcls. < >♦ | The Weather. —The following conver- I between two jolly.sons of the Green sift a day or two since, in the front of our ■office has a point to it: •I say Jimmy, did you ever see such a ■Summer as this same.’ ‘Faith and I have.’ •When?’ • ‘Last winter, by Jabers.’ — Somebody says that a young lady should i HLatwnys ask the ftfixr fJliowhg question* accepting the hand of any young ■Fin an: Is he honorable? Is he kind of heart? Can he support, me comfortably? Does he take a paper—and pay in ad Hvance? HH -SHC*-***-‘I sav. Sambo, does you know what ■ makes de corn grow so fast when you put ■the manure on ii? ‘No 1 don’t know, ’cept it makes ground ■Bst ranger for de corn.’ 1 ‘Now, 1 jist tell you, when de corn be|®g:ns to smeii de m rule, it don l like . i Hf umery, so it Lurries oiu of the ground ■kihl gets up: Li j-h as possible, so it ciin't Hbi'eath bid air. 1 ‘Don’t you want a real prime lot of Knitter? asked a pedler, who had picked up at fifty different places. i What soi tof butler is that? asked the ■pnerchant. I ‘The clar quid—made by my wife from Ha dary of forty cow.: —only two, churnKings. I ‘What makes it of so many colors? ‘I guess, replied the Yankee. ‘You ■Kimver would have a.'.. .J me that question Bfif you had seen my cows, for they are Hdarned si»lit speckleder than the butter is. A letter reach the New Orleans post|H)ffice, directed to the biggest fool in New ■■Orleans,’ The postmaster was absent and Km his return one of the younger clerks I .iQin the office informed him of the receipt of Stbe letter. ’ ‘And what became of it? inquired the ■'.’. M. Why, replied the clerk, ‘I did not know the biggest fool in New Orleans was, I opened it myself. ■ ‘And what did you find in it? inquired Khe P. M. I ‘Why, replied the clerk, nothing but ithe words, ‘thou art the man!’ I The following rich scene occurred in Kone of our private schools: ft 'Ah Pat, exclaimed the school mistress, ■<> a thick headed urchin, into whose mudbrain she was attempting to beat the ■alphabet, what’s that lettei ? I ‘Sure, I don’t know ma’am, replied I I thought you'd recollect that. i Why, ma’am? 'Because it has got a dot over it. I ‘Och, ma’am I thought it was a fly spec: Well—now, remciu —It is I. I ‘You, ma’am? | No, no—not U, but I. I ‘Not I, but you, ma’am —how’s that. 1 ‘Not you, but 1, blockhead! ■ ‘O, yes, now I’ll have it, ma’am. Toil to say, not I but you are a block- ■ ‘Fool! exclaimed the pedagogue, almost with rage.

■ TT-VTTTTTW—I Mn-~X7»m l l I .'TW.» t—— BH-Kim JOINS A < l.ua. BY SYLVANVB COBB, JR. Mama? iko Bilking v.;. ■ a shoemaker, land he fancier! he did quite a business. ’ A; all vents, he had four hundred dollar:: laid uo at home—four hut:'lied hard; ; silver dollars. And Marmaduke bad been quite a number of yer in accumulating that sum. fie v. .- now t i.ir’y-sev-n years old, and had been maried thirteen year:;. Ho had four children to sup- ' port, and he did it well. If M trmhdaho.Lad a fault it. v-ns his ; ■desir'e to be thought 'smart. ile'i.is 1 suffered himself to be.made a candidate I for one of the overseers of the pour; and J though he got defeated, Bumpkins going; lin by three hundred majority, yet the nomination give him a new importance in bis own eyes. Before election he gave :an oyster supper at, the tavern, to which ; his constituents—the leading ones —were ' invited. The wine was good —an article, , :by the way, which Bilkins hadn’t used' ’ for years—and Marmadukh was voted, 1 , unanimously to be a capital fellow. Toasts . were drank—toasts about ‘Wine and Wo-< I men,’ am! about ‘Live and be merry,’ and ■ ' about all sou of things. In short it was a jolly time. When Marmaduke went home J.e as cended to liis chamber singing a capital song, the chorus of which ran—- ! O _ •We wont, go home till morning — ! Till daylight, doth appear.’ I tie forgot several things oil that occasion. | He forgot to wind up his watch, he forgot! | to take off his cravat and dickey; he for-1 • got. to take off his stockings, and didn’tI blow the light out. He had intended to! tell his wife all about the glorious songs . atfd the toasts, but bn the fbllwing morning he couldn’t remember anything! about them, save that lie made himself! hoarse in his efforts to give them due ap-; pkiuse. Prudence Biikins shook her head, but said nothing. She saw that her husbandj was suffering enough without any help I from her. But that night’s entertainment-intro- : dues Marmaduke into new company for! him. The villiage had changed wonder, fully since ’ was vo”rg. A r iilroad had brought it close to the city, p.nd city fashions had been introduced. A billiard hall had been opened, and bowling-.,.i100u; put in operation. But until ti e night of 1 tb.e oy hr supper Marmaduke had known ; none of the supporting characters save by sight, though he had often wished'that, lie could become acquainted with them. | There were Blobsvn, and Jenkins, and ■ Fundy. How nicely they dressed, and! how genteel the}- were. What aristocra tic airs they wore, and how gracefully they longed about the piazza of the large, new hotel. And men Low the fine ladies! I that came out from the city in the snm- | mer seemed to admire them. Marmaduke ! j longed to know them. I And Marmaduke knew them. They' . I were at his oyster supper, and swore to I support him for office. They were the ones, who .’rank most of his wine, and gave the finest toasts, and sang the best o o songs. Marmaduke was a happy man. Blobson and Jenkins bowed to him in the i street, and Fundy shook hands with him; and asked him how he did. But the cup wasn't half full yet, though Marmaduke! thought it was. On the very next day Jenkins himself —gay, dashing, fashionable Jenkins—came into Marmaduke’s shop —came fairly into the humble shop—and asked Marmaduke to lend him ten dollars! What joy. Never before had Marmoduke ■ relinquished a ten dollar bill with such happiness! Only to think that Jenkins — .i the courted,! the admired, the genllemau Jenkins, should seek the friendly aid of j Marmaduke Biikins! Marmaduke went that very night and ; and ordered a new suit of clothes. He wanted them fashionably cut—the cloth , must be blue, with bright buttons; and | the pants with extensive figures in the . pattern. , By and by Blobson, Jenkins, and Fundy, • with a few more of their stripe, lay out ! the plans for a Jockey Club, 'i hey selec- ■ ted a spot of land for a race-course, and I were a going into it extensively. Among l the first who were visited was Marmaduke Bilkins. • ‘We want public spirited men to uphold ’ jour country’s honor,’ said Blobson.Men who are notnfraid of exercise. We 1 have called upon you first, because we want the influence of your name.’ ! Marmaduke put his name down for twenty dollars towards purchasing the ground and preparing it; and he was very proud and very happy. His sporting friends had talked it all into him until he real ly believed he was going to doj his country a service. j ‘Prudence,’said our hero, coming out num' their little sitting-room into the 1 kitchen, ‘where is the key of the drawer? •What drawer?’asked the wife, lookin" up from her work. She was making! a roat for m.c of the tailor -in the place.

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

DECATUJ, ADAMS COUNTY INDIANA, JULY 3,1857.

‘Why—the key to the little bureau! drawer.’ ‘What do you want of that?’ ‘Never mind—l want it.’ Prudence Bilkins started. Something i i had struck her. Never-never before— j had her husband made such answer— I I For some time she had noticed that hi-. m:ud was verv much occupied with some-! i thing beside his ordinary business. ‘W.,I you tell me what you want of! that key'.’’ she -aid, tn a tone which had never yet failed to bring Marmaduke to I I his senses, f Finally he rat down r-.n.l told his ■’.if,the story, and explained the objects he hard in view. She gazed upon him in! blank wonder while he was speaking, but! ;by the lime he had concluded she fully! understood the matter. She knew her husband’s easy nature; and,she also knew ' what a large share of love of approbation j !he had. He was mentally unable to: ; shine in any intellectual sphere, and lie] j had now found a field in which he fan- '; i cied l.ocuuld ‘spread himself.’ She had j > seen the fashionable loungers of whom’ Marmaduke had spoken, and she knew ! their characters well; she knew, too, that' . they were just the ones to wield a great, influence over him.’ ‘ Y<jti buy a horse!’ she uttered, after | I pondcriilg a few moments. ‘Why, Marm Bilkins ’ ‘Look here: Don’t you call me JJarm : I Bilkins. I don’t like it!’ ‘But, my dear Marmaduke—you’ll let me speak, 1 know,’ I ‘AVhy—in course you may speak;. but I won’t be called Jfarin,’ i ‘But about this horse, my dear; —and I this money vou must pay for the land—- : and all tb.e other expenses.’ ‘What of/zerexpenses, Pd like to know? ‘Your time is worth something, Marm —aduke; and then you know there must : Ibe other outlays. But sec that all aside, j | There’s twenty dollars—and it’ll swell to; I tiifty before you get through,—and your I j horse will be over a hundred, of course.’; | ‘I mean to get a good one.’ I ‘Of course you will. And now just I look at it. You— Marmaduke Biikins—with a fam- ! ily—stru ggling to lay up enough with which to buy a house of our own—-a re;. : pectnble citizen—and now honored by your worthy friends, — you going to join : a jockey club! Why—you must be 1 crazy.’ i ‘But I ain’c crazy, Mrs, Biikins. I i mean to have my way, I tell you! What’s 1 j life good fcr if you can’t enjoy yourself?! I Wnal wa- oiirluve of happiness given to ! lus for, if we wasn’t to be happy ? I’ve j slaved and Jug about long enough. I,m going in for some of the enjoyments oflife I now. 1 want you to uiidersland that!’ Prudence did not reply, bhe saw that j somebody had been putting all that non [ sense into his head, an 1 she knew him well enough to knoiv’that any direct opi position of hers would only make him ■ more headstrong, lie would not have ; Blobson anrhJenkins suppose that ids wife j governed him for anything. Mat maduke Biikins was one of those ■I men who fondly believed that they rule; affairs at home with a rod of iron. Thei-e> jure many such in the world. Under the j influence of a tyrant wife they become al- ! most inbecile; am! under the influence of ! a timid, retiring woman they become tyrants themselves; but beneath the influ- ; ence of such a woman as Prudenep Biikins was, they became just what Marmaduke was—a strictlyjgoverned, • ing husband without knowing it PruI deuce held her thumb most firmly upon j her simple consort, and he never dreamed . I of it. | ‘Now where the key?’ ‘But when must you pay.this money in? ‘I don’t know. But 1 want to be ready :to pay when they call for it. If we get ; a good spot of land, we’ll have the State fair here another year; ami that’ll be | worth ten thousand dollars to this town. ‘lt will?’ ‘But of course you won’t pay out your money until you have seen the land selec-! .ted. i ‘Why—no. Certainly not. Prudence told him where the key was, 1 ami he went away. On the evningof the following day, just' :as Marmaduke was getting, up from the tea-t ible, some one knocked at the door. | | Otic of tb.e boys went, and when he reI turned he was followed by no less a per-. j sonage than Peter Bunker. Pete was. not only one of the most notorious horsejockeys in that section, but be was an own cousin to Prudence. He was about foly years of age-, dressed in heavy top-boots, drab breechers, ajockey coat of tiie same i color, and a light jaunty cap. ‘Well, Prudence, he said, as he took a ’ seat,‘l have found just the tiling you want. 1 ‘Oh lam glad, cried Mrs. Biikins, with evident satisfaeton. ‘How old is he? ‘Just seven last spring. I ‘And how heavy? ‘About ten hundred.

•Wiiat color? ‘Pure black: Ob! I'm glad of that! And what’s the pr'u - ? ‘Only two hundred. ! ‘o—that’s cheapjif he’s perfectly sound. ‘I ll warrant him sound and kind. : ; And now about his speed-how is that? ! (-fib' can trot a mile in three and a half ' t&sy. ,‘But—’,vh-wh-what’s all this.?stam-liert-1 Marinrduke in blank astonishment. •Only a little trade of mine, my dear. K . p si:!! a moment. Then turning to i&e* rw em-r resumed. •Where did this animal come from? ‘A fellow named Bloson brought him out here. A ml sold him, eh? ‘.Well—l don’t know about that. A man from the city came out with a sort !of claim on the property, and Blobsom ; gave it up. ‘You are sure that he did not give it, I up on account of any defect. ‘Bless your soiff, yes. I'm as sure as 1 ! can be. This Blobson hasn’t got a red : I cent of his own. He manages to borrow’ ’ a little here and there, when he can’tmake it by gambling. No, no, I’ii war- ; rant the animal sound. ‘Well, Pete—l‘ll come around to-mor-: row anil looA: at him. j ‘All right, said the jockey; and thus ; speaking he arose and left the house. For about two minutes Marmaduke! looked his wife in the face. Then he said.’ •Prudence BiU'ins, what does this mean'.' ‘Why—can't you guess? ‘Never mind. I wan* to/rnow. ‘Well—l'll tell you: I was reading the other day, in a celebrated worlr, that for j females there was no exercise more healthy '■ than horseback-riding. You Xmow 1 am shut up here from morning till night; : weexin and week out-and have been so for i j over thirteen years. Thus far 1 have worJ‘-; ! ed hard, and worked without ceasing; but. j now lam going in for some of the enjoy- \ merits oflife. lam going to feed my love !of happieess. You Z-now our home don’t | : afford the joys we need. And then only. | (think: how nice it will be for you and !me to ride out together. Wont some people be envious? 1,11 bet they will! •ffat but the money. Prudence ‘o—l have that. For the last ten years ' ■ I hate been digging over coats and vests - j for Mr. Snip, and now I’m going to have the good of it. 1 did think that by anoth-i ey spring I’d have about five hundred dol- 1 I lars to put with five hundred of yours; ! and then we’d buy a snug little home j somewhere; but what is the use of throwing away all our happiness just for a house! ! No, no, —give me a horse! Three minutes on the road!--Ahead of anything! i What times we will have!’ Marmaduke Biikins was completely; nonplused. He knew the money was bis ; wife's —that is tiie money she meant to use—though he had not suspected that she bad made so much. He had never , known how hard she worked. ‘Nonsense,’ he finally articulated. ‘ You I buy a horse. Who ever heard of such a thiag!’ ‘Did you ever see a lady ride horse back, Marmaduke Biikins?’ ‘Why—l have seen such a thing, 1 s’spcse.’ •Y<es—l don't doubt it. Dosen't Mrs. j Puffer own a horse? Doen’t Mrs. John- ! son own one? And don’t both the Bumby girls own horses? And don’t they all ride just when they please?’ ‘Ah—but they are rich. Mrs. Biikins. Tin y e.'in*afford it.’ ‘Do tell, Marm Bil—aduke—kins. — They can afford it. can they? And why didn’t you think of that before? I can afford it too, sir; so don’t say any more on that score.’ ‘But do you mean to buy a horse?’ ‘Of course I do.’ ‘Pooh! Nonsense!’ And the matter rested for the while. On the following day Prudence put on her bonnet and went down to her cousin’s -table. He was there alone. ‘Now I tell you, upon my word of honI or, Pru,’ said Bunker, ‘you cannot possi- | bly make a better investment. The man who had the claim on this horse has taken I him and put him into my hands for sale. IHe knows nothing about horses. Blobson owed him three hundred dollars, and he got this horse and a gold watch. The watch was well worth a hundred, and he says I may sell the horse tor two hundred Still 1 w juldn’t sell him to any one else I so. Buy him, and I promise to take him I buck if you can’t dispose of him in any I other way.’ Prudence bought the horse, and engaged Pete to feed him up, am! keep him clean and neat. That evening Pete Bunker called again just as Mailn.i l uke was getting up from supper. Prudence gave him twenty gold eagles, and lie gave her a bill-of-sale of the horse, and then departed. •Prudence Biikins have you bought a horse?’ •J have, Marm Bi! - ah--excuse me -a

dukekins. I have, bought the horse, sir. | And now for fun!’ Marmaduke was emin ly ‘taken down’’ by this suminaly operiiam. He had not. believed that his ivif-.- would do any .such a thin". And as lie began lo reflect he beofiine reasonable, when lie found that, his wife had live hundred dollars, he saw that they could buy a home if they wished. The sight of i> much gold going for a horse hurt Lis feelings. ‘You d' I’t expect your limse to keep himself do you.” he venture k •How do you intend tu keep yours?’ i .die res pom: cd. ‘But I—I—haven’t got one yet,’ ‘Haven’t?’ ut ered pru.lence in suri prise. ‘Why—l thouglityou were going I after one at once. If you do>’t buy one —why, then I’m sure I don’t want one. I thought you and 1 would have such good i times riding. Tiie expense of keeping ; two horses ain't much —nut two hundred ! dollars a-year.’ •Eh?’ What? Two hundred?’ 1 ‘Yes. It costs seventy dollars a year : at the least calculation, to keep one good < horse as he should be kept. That makes ; one hundred and forty dollars. And then : there’s our hou>e-rent—sixty-tivu- makes two hundred and five dollars. ‘Our house-rent?' ‘Yes. .If we had concluded to buy a , house, vou know, we should have no rent to p qv-’ Marmaduke Biikins put on his hat and ' walked out. On the next morning Blob- ! son called in and asked Marmaduke if he | couldn’t pay his twenty dollars just as ! well then as at any time. But M.irma- ! duke hesitated; and thereupon Blobson dew into a passion, and called bis friend a j ‘miserable, shoe-making, sneaking, lying rascal.’ ; Marmaduke slipped down from hY : bench, and having opened the shop door, : lie seized Mr. Blohson by the collar of the ' blue-coat with bright buttons, and the ; seat of the fancy unnieul: nribles, and pitched him head foremost from his pre1 mises. i The sporting gentleman had no desire to venture again within reach of those ! huge arms, so he picked himself up and ‘ having threatened nil sorts of dire ven- ! geance, he went away; and Marmaduke : never saw him' again. That evening just before dark, Pete Bunker came around to inform Prudence ; that Mr. Bunby wanted to buy her horse, j ‘He’s got one—a jet black—that’s just 1 a perfect match for this one, and he says : he must have it ’ j ‘Well.’ sai'l Prudence, ‘let him go. But : keep quiet about it.’ I However there was no need oflmeping 1 quiet, for in half-an-houi a iter wards Mar- ! maduke came home and told bis wile that ; he’d concluded not to j--in that club. I That was all that was said at that particular time On the next morning Marmaduke went to his work later than usual and when Pete Bunker '"died he found ! the host in. He would have kept his busi- | ness to himself, but Prudence whispered 'to him that all was right. As soon as !. ■ understood this, he drew out a piece o! ' stout linen cloth, and laid it upon the ta- ; ble. •That’s yours,’ he said to his fair cousin. She opened it, and counted thirty gold eagles. i ‘But here's three hundred dollars!’ ‘Aye—that’s what 1 made Banby pay for the horse. 1 told him it belonged to a lady who had bought ii for her own use i and that she would not sol! without an inducement. When he found out that ! the horse could travel a milt- inside of four minutes, and that a woman could drive him, he said he must have him. Three , hundred was his own offer. And, by the way —Bunby wants to sell his little white cottage by the willows.’ ‘How muck'” asked Marmaduke quickly. ‘He says he’ll sell to an honest sober man, with cash, for eight hundred. It cost him twelve to build it, to my certain knowledge.’ ‘What say you, Prudence shall we buy jit?’’ ; ‘Yes.’ And the cottage was bought; and when Marmaduke got fairly settled down inside I of it, h« declared he was never so happy in.his life. ‘What a fool' 1 liked to have made of myself,’ he said to his wife, as they set upon their piazza gazing off into the pretty garden. ‘How so she asked innocently. ‘Whv —with that jockey club.’ •O—that? Well, well—th;:’ h passed. Du f you know 1 went ahead ot you in that; for I actually invested two hundred dollars in horse-flesh!’ ‘O, yes—l understand all that, Prudence.’ Pete Bunker who happened to be turning the corner at tl\at moment, caught Marmaduke Biikins in the very actol kissing his (Bunker’s) cousin' The comet hastooK Ye !> ’r“t tra:n, but the fourth of July hirin't.

A •- '.'likci . of Crime. I Most assuredly eve-y crime has its aven.:t i. And the greater the crime, the more cci tali.iy will it be avenged. Petty .-rimes may I>< committed by persons ofinditfl rent nr>ral consciouraess; but great .crimes, i ver! In either ca<e, the laws may be detraie'cd;discovery may be evaded; public justice may languish for atonemeiii, butihe direct victim of the crime , not umivt.'.g.'d, and the crimin ii ; ear: ot i ■«» ■■pe his enev it able doom, llu- . mail lid.uu lis may reach him nut, bill tile eye ot the H.i rtial God is ever on him, , . it! i.r:.< hi-., soul with llmt deep, dam- : ning consciousness, which i . his own ev-.,-i la.-ting ’< alimony agnin-1 hin:: i If. Hi' may si m l u.urevealcd in the glare of mid- : day before the world; may mingle with ' the crowd, u isuspected, yet in the most solitary place, in tiie ihirZness of the night in l:;s vex-d s eep, even he c-nnot escape the eye of God—he cannot hide from himself. Alone, r mote from men, he star- ■ ties at, every lo< tstep, he shrinks at every touch, he trembles in ike presence of Lis , own thoughts. Fearfully punished an I most mi'i-ruble weteh. Within liis bre-ast sit sclf-torrni-niing tiends- -terror, flaming on his eye her acc'i-ing torch—remorse wringing out his h. art’s blood--dispair, plunging his soul uj >n fresh ruin, until he cries, in the language of the first murder er-Hoid, merciful Gel! ‘My punishment is greater thnn 1 cat hear. Thir.Z - not, poor eluiier of htintan justice, lliat crime goes ever unavenged! As thou hast consciousness in thy soul, such shall be the measure and torment of i‘« guilty brand. Judges may excuse thee, juries hid the go free; but ah! thou hast an avenger on tiiv tracK. Unsleeping and unsated, till the day of atonement, that invisible angel of justice shall haunt thee and drag thru down. Tiie Ilcgiecs cl !.<>•. Os all passions in the world, love not only is the most tyranicle, and takes (ho deepest hold, but is also speerfiest in its , change of the scenery round us; nay, the scenery environing the heart. That lovu is the great sweetener of our existence — die actiie and siirring princinlt—the spring which sets everything in motion—die vivid awtiZ-eiier, exponent represeutatioa of all the finest, no I d, ...-at. , and subtlcest movements in our spiritual nature, who could deny? But it mu t differ in nil minds: the taste, tie delicacy; die fervent and eager with high impellent strength, and burning completeness and abandonment,. There is love which once, aroused—ei.lied to the surface from ns tender founti in, and boiling up from its pl i'.-td depths, becomes LZ'e tiie* torrent .. eping oi: in impi-iuoshy, rising up against and surmoutlng wild lury all thu petty obstacles and interrution; which envy ami cauimas policy, the coldness or worldlines of man seek to interpose to it. Love is such a giant power that it seems to gather strength from obstruction, and at every difficulty rises to higher might. Il is all dominant.---all conquering; u giand leveller which can bring . down to its own uuiversel line of equalization thu proudest heights, and remove the stubbornest impediments. There is !no hope of resisting it, for it out watches wiiteh---submcrgvs everything, acquire mg strength as it proceeds; ever growing n ty, growing out of i’ . f. (.)■ pa, 1 have just seen one of the worsesi dog- fights as was ever seen or heani i tel) of in the world. Well, Simon my boy, how wax it? ; ‘Well there was one great, black deg with while ears am!, a brass collar, and ' i one little black and green dog what had’t •: uo man with him, and as— ’ Come, come, Simon dnn’t. talk so fast, you get every thing m xed Up: stop and ■ get breath a moiueut, and not blow so like > a proboise. i Well, [ want to tell you how one dog ■ with the wintu cars got on one side o. ’he , meeting house, and the other meetingi bouse, with the yellow dog; no, no, I metn one meeting-house with the yeller ' green ears, got one on ide of the dog, i and .l.e other lie—no.no, the white dog I with the yeller ear, he gave a yelp at die i meeting house, and the dog—o, dad, I'm : give out—there was no dog at all. Gen. Lee on<- day found Dr. Cutting-, f the army surgeon, who was a handsome . and dressy man, arranging ri-< cravat . eoinpl-ieently before a gla.-s. ‘Cutting, said Lee, ‘you must be the happiest man in creation. Why, General? ‘Because, replied Lee, 'you arc in love with your* self, and you have not a rival on earth, ' A wife in this State lots shown how wives may run away without rendering themselves liable to be ad', erlised as having left their husbands bed aifd board. She took the bed with her. : What is the difference between an ai-cep* ted and rejected love? One Kisses his miss and the other misses his Kisses his hiss! Mi - Gen > ott is Ivin - danuercuslv ill iu rat is.

NO, 21.