Plymouth Banner, Volume 3, Number 32, Plymouth, Marshall County, 26 October 1854 — Page 1

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TS A Family Newspaper- Devoted to Education, Agriculture, Commerce, Markets, General Intelligence, Foreign and Domestic News. 4' 1 ; i VOL. 3. NO. 33.1 PLYMOUTH, INDIANA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 36, 1854. WHOLE NO. 136.

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T HE B A N N E 11 ii CU'SLISilK!) EVr.RV THIT.SDAY 3!0KN1XG BY BURNS. 'Slt jhs sai If pii I in advance, $I'P At the en.' r t" i x mouths, ----- - 2m li leliyel 'i itil the end of the year, 2 50 A fnilurto order a discenti nuance nt the expiration of the time subscribed for, will be co.iülerel a :n;v ciisjnsjeiLchi, and ll.c paper U"No pi;:r will be discontinued i;nti'a!! arr- r i.'-js its pji i. unless at the op'.ior oithe Ll-Tr.e above tsrms will be strictly adhered to. ADVERTISING.

V r rtiscxeaavill Inconspicuously inscr tri. at tue Mlowins prices, vir. . l?r I square (of 10 lines) 3insertiom S'C0 Eish additional insertion, , . "-"c O" Any thiri less than a square, villle con $:lred a square. lyVlverLi'-iri i.nzi be particniarto mark " -u'cl ', '' ,, 'lvl,f,,.nft M,i. th-2 nurriber o. H.ssrtnns ca lue lureoi i i.e no - veri!.i?!itJ. or tfcoy will b3 published until ordered oat, an 1 charee.l accordingly. O-A iihjial discount will be made where 'IVV'XJT bt Iki .iUhoVierureJ. as uc (mo: slMyi a jrtit t!;o iisu of irotrAJted settlements for the printer's fees. fj-ll Oxr.iit:i;oation3 frosn R. Ii.-tance houlJbe addrecJ, 1.! -rAK.tothc TJitur. Fr.im C'i"nbr' Journal. ORPHAN WI.3ir. Ia travelling through w North of Si-ot hnJ r iiilea vorin to Mint out a riatiMi who had some veari preTimislv settled in i , . ,, , . . ,. tb.it pirt of th world, or ruling in this ' . . . 1 1 obtain a üi tuition as govern ss, uiy en q üriea led o tension il I y t stniit- re i laU concerning circum-tiuc s and iudi idnals. that might have suited well for the foundation of nitny a romance pro vli.g thu oft. thougli never loo iftn rep.'ate;'. a lge, thit 'truth is stranger thin ttction.' In thtt blrak and siugulirly sha l.d town Peierheail. whose hirboM run I ilea the jiws of a sword-fish, into the sea I hi occasion to tuke np my abode for 8Jm? timt at the !i ) iie tf one ASl Grey who, with moIcJÄie rj;tn:Ti. an 1 great pru Jnce, m-tintiined his f.unüy in much respertalility. Of cm ire he hd an a imtrsble coadjutor in his Rood n. I indus rioni w ife, whr mm ig-d her little hous"jo'd with a mthodieft! j ilni 'nt an.l in a simple way I luve rarely fc'-en equaled His shop. m:fc'y a cl uhier's l r somihirty years ago ni-n did :t, as now n:o :topolie evety brutch ofbusiiiet undei n roof wis. I rni?m'jiT II, on ih right hinl si le of the pns.ge o'i eater ing. and the p-irlor eranly opposite, an I surely it waj the most co:nf rt ihle little pnrlor in the worl.i! At leist I i!ought so when, after a freezing ri a on iiie outside of th coach frosn Aberdeen, my landlady fori hal tiVen a sir.ill b; I room an i ?itttn room mi lha first Ü r i-ni up a pli;t recj'i"l thitl w.u '. i j ia tlu fa.nily at tea. Every corn r of the room win illuminated by th m3t cheeif il of all lights, a blazing fire, ani relieved, what pt'.fhips shows th ? hopitii' t ty of a goo 1 Scotch housevrifo more than anything else a tea-table covered wit'.i abtin funce of go- 1 things. It- m e m b r i ii -is I di 1 the scinty sjpplyoi" thin bread and butter, which lTith h Jecoction of very p-i'e by s.m and orul jan milk, nuke up a Lou don te. I Wiä enchint ! with the hin t of Cikes tecollect. good reader. I waa hungry outside passenger which could thus receive a s.rang r as an honored guest. Ia one corner of the room were two little girls, apparently of the sime a, busily employod apparently in hushing a doll to sleep, and miking ready its liny cradle; they both called Mrs. Gfy mam fiJ. ani yetona of the chi.dreti wasdrfssol in d-rp mourning, while thu other vor.? a frock of bright crimson. A fine cnrly hfaded boy. of four year ol I in hit night gown, ready for bed. sit by the tire teaching ths kitten her letters a Kind of catechism which could only occur to a child of his age. I could not help remarking the imaginative employments of the children, at the same time asking Mrs. Grey if the little prls were not twins. O no.' replied she; 'are not the same mother's children. Indeed!' I excUimed in some surprise; and yet they both call you mamma?' Yes, replied Mrs. Grey pointing to the chill in mourning, 'but Winny's mother il dead; and the chld as if catching the .orU, ceased her play aul turned her bdiutiful dark eyei full upon me, as if to hs: ' Pity me!' Po-o r child! 1 "xclairnd; but sh sepms I ) hire fomiJd kind relation in rou Mrs. Grev.' "No rtlati in, replied the good woman: 'I doubt whether Winny has a relalwn in the world.' You quite interesting about tha lit tla creature. said I; 'would it be loo grst a liberty to fnquire her history. I don't know much of it, said Mrs. Grey; 'and what I do know, I have been cautioned not to reval. Sh has been coiJtül to my crire by a gntlman who hwidaptsd her: he is füUernely fond of hF. and na tlau.t will give hr good ed. untlon. to At ht fotgcvfiiii9 fil fpro UeiffisU t miiloyr.ifiil, AUt for th ilfluiiUnei3 ofucli an employment! had simple Mrs. Qrey known n wach of the druJgery of a govPtne;iV Ufa a I did. kha would have found eomr other way by which to qualify il, The pottmau'a knock interrupted our convrMtion. I shouldn't wonder itM, Mrs. Orey, 'If that h a leiei (torn Ciptain UugUtoa; and almost ih next minute et busbar;i&Ufd from th hop, con-l

Winny said Mr. Grey to the little girl; 'come here, my pet, and tell me what would pleiee j on most What most of all of everything?' asked the child, looking wistfully in his face as if she believed for a moment in Iiis power to grant her wish. Yes, what in the world could happen to please you brsi?" 0 that dear mamma could come back again!' said the child, with painfully touching earnestness. Nay Winny saiJ Mrs. Grey, after a deep silence, caused by the unexpected reply of the child: 'that i3 contrary to your little prayer at night, and which you say fron: your heart 'Thy will be done. But I do wish dear mamma was alive again;' said thr ihild, beginning to 6ob. Audit would be wit.ked to deny it, for minima said God wouldn't love me if I told a lie.'

( -Quite right, my darling said Mrs. Grev. caressing her: 'never fer to tell us 11 . . , ,,T. a vour thoughts und wishes. But YV in- . . j ny is good and grateful not to be happy j :h:tt Ciptain Singleton is coming to eee htr to incrrow?' !' P.1- S.nJetonf s.U Winn,. ! brijiMeiii 11 itlrough !ur tmrs he'll le; in" talk so ut mimmi, and sing the songs sh tinht in.' An I who i this mamma, thdught I, whose memory seems thus to engross the rery -abundance' of the little orphan's heart?' A dty or itvo revealed to me litt sad 6t jrr. Captain Sinleton. the gentleman who had adopted Winny, arrived on the fol lowing day. He appeared to be exceed- . ?r i. i -.i i r..i inwtr delif.ted with his little protege who . - . " . . . . . u hovered about him with an affection which was well ralculeted to secure his love. lie came to t lie town for no other purpose than to see her. and therefore- spent the greater part of his time at Abel Grey's merely sleeping at George Inn, at the top of the street. The manners of Captain Singleton were so agreeable and gentlemnn'.y. thnt I almost fa need 1 had met m iih an ol d friend. Mrs. Grey being ob'.iged to attend to houjeholJ duties occasioned s. vera! tete-a telfs between I-. a:i I diri i.' on-5 of thfse he acquaiuted me with the circumstances which !ed to the adoption of Winifred Brockl.y. This drifting sleet.' said Csptain Sinjlrton one lay after linner, es we complete! our third K;une of ches. in the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Grey and the chillren who werr eniployevl elsewhere 'remin Is ir.e of that storm, now twelve ynnrssgfj. when I first saw Winny. As y u seem to-ialco an interest in the little creature. I that is if you have patience for a narrative in which I mu?l necessarily h. egotistical and recount some of my own adventures I will give you a sketch of Wii:n)'s history. I assured him that he would confer a fivor that would be highly gratifying to m-; and he proceeded. When p. ace was declared, I found it somewhat difficult, being a second son. to s-rbsist upon half-pay only. The trifling addition of a pension for nn awkward wound at Waterloo, could scarcely eke out my scanty income sufficiently to meet my expenses, which wtihout being extravaguit. had involved me in debt. Fer-h-ips 1 may a? well mention here, that before the bittle I had engaged myself to a lovely girl, whose faith I had no cause to doubt, and who seemed to o? formed to nuke eurth a paradise; but my Eve va tempted! Returning home proud of my laurelj won in defence of my country glorying in the woun ls that brought safely to those I lovel with joyous exultation, I hastened to claim my reward for every peril my own lovely bride when the news was brought nn that my elder brother, on whom the estate had devolved by the death of my father, had during my absence, wooed and won her, I should not have alluded to this piece of perfidity, which changed the whole current of my tho-ights an I feedings, were it not perhaps, an excuse for the careless life I led sometime afterwards. 'I started off no one knew whither, and half resolved that no one should hear of me again. I assumed the name of Bondbroke, and commenced a roaming life, mentally deciding to bs indifferent in everything, Hut in reality, I was never intended to be a citizen of the world. In spite of my determination to be apathetic there were persons and circumstances cominuilly m iking claims upon my sympathies and affections; and as I hail not the means of being generouf. this was exceedingly painful to m, indeed my supply of money was so limited, as to render it expedient that I should devise some way of increasing my store. At last. whle sojourning, in one cf these ScottUh towns, 1 resolved to receive pupils in fencing and drawing, and for that purpose iiüied ctrds; but finding the town too small to answer my purpose, 1 thought of seeking my fortune on a wider field. Accordingly, I packed up my baggage, took an outside seat ou the mail, and started one winter's morning for Elgin, intenlingto mike that my haltingplace. It was severe weather, and the roads were cut out of the snow, which by piled on each side as high as the roof of the roach! As we were proceeding up a hill, I perceived tome travelers on foot before us. They consisted of two men a womsn, and a little girl; the sleet was beating1 in their face6 and h mother had drawn the end of her shawl as a veil over he? chtld'l bonnet, in an attempt to shield he? ffQOl the weatW, us she led her by th hand up the hill. The party paused as tha coach overtook them. 'Coachman. paid one of the young men, perceiving that there was plenty of outside room, what will you charge for this lady and itttte girl to Elgin?

Ten shilling!.' said the man. The font's of the party were compared and were evidently insufficient; the lady also appeared unwilling to avail herself of ths contributions of her companions,

though most anxious to procure a seat for the child. What is the least you will take my little girl for?' she asked. Why; three-and-6iipence, replied the coachman no !ess; so be sharp wt can't stay here all night.' I 'Oh, I am so gladexclaimed the moth!er, lifting the child in her arms. 'Now, J darling 1 don't care for myself so that you can ride. "But I can walk quite well, dear mamma I am not tired.' said the child, evi- ! tlentiy unhappy at tho idea of being sepa- ' rated from her mother. Had I not been interested in the scene, common humanity would have prompted me to interfere. 'Madam, I said, 'obl ige me by occupying this seat next me; for your little girl's sake, who evidently will not come without you, I must insist upon it. I spoke decidedly, holding out my liau l at the same time to assist, her; the coachman was in a hurry; and the next instant the lady and her child were, seated beside me. The guard threw them an extra top-coat he had stowed away in the boot. I buttoned them j both up in it, and unJer the shelter of my umbrella, they were comparatively comfortable. I could not help wondering who my companions were; but the severity of the storm prevented much conveisation; the child, being wrapped up warody fell asleep, and the mamma seemed inclined to b silent. On arriving at Elgin about seven o'clock, the lady expressed a wish to procure a private lodging; I insisted on accompanying her in search; so giving her my arm. and my hand to the little girl, I sallied forth with my new acquaintances, and soon had tho satis fiction of seeing them comfortably established in two very neat apartments. I then took my loave, without evon knowing the name of those for whom I was so interested, bjt not without obtaining permission to wait upon thorn tho following minting. Siuntering bnck to my hotel, I was attracted by the exhibition of a bill in a shop-winJow. announcing the opening ol n theatre. It j instantly struck mo that mv roadside j friends must bs part of the ''corps dram Uiq ie." Tho season wa? to commence on the following night with ths c.omady of the "Provoked Husband;" Lady Grace by Mm. Brockley; the song of Over the Mountain and Over the Moor, between tho play and farco, by Miss Brockley. I felt n strong presentiment that these wero my new friends; and recollecting how successful Iliad been in private theatricals when with mv regiment. I wondered that the idea of trying the stago had not occurred to me. Here, however was an opportur.ity, and I resolved on offering my services to the Manager for an appearance or two, my future engignnni to depend upon my success. The thought wns cxhilerating;and my dreams were filled with visions of surpassing Kemtlo, and acting in London under my own name, to tho infinite mortification cf my proud rcdatives. Next day, I made my promised call, but was informed that the lady and little girl were gone to rehenal. I wis fight then sho was an actress. I loft my card, intimating that I would lake tho liberty of calling nt an earlier hour on tho following morning. Of course, that night 1 went to the theatre, a neat, temporary place, filled up in tho town hall and took my seat in hat wero called lh boxes, which wero tho front benches partitionoJ off from the rast. The comady commenced, an I eiv.er Lady Graes the idontical person whom I had buttoned up in tho guards top-coat of many capss! Her nppearanco and manner wero admirably suited to the character; she was evidently a gentlewoman. Indeed there was mucli good acting in the play; at tha conclusion of which, the curtain wis again drawn up tho orchestra playod the symphony, and the little girl, for whom si many had boen intores od on her weary way in tho now storm, cams for.vard to sing. Sho was tho very personation of 'L.ttlo Rod Ridinghood. waaring a short red cloak, and her boautiful little feet bare. How picturesque she looked! The audieiue welcomed tho tiny vocalist with enthusiasm. Her sweet voice; joined to the simple words of her song Over the mountain, and over the moor, Hingrv und barefoot I wnnder fo:l rn; My father is dead, and my mother is poor. And hhe weeps for tho dj.yi tPat cau cever return: then her beseeching manner, with clasped hands, as she finished the verse: Pitr. kind gentlefolks, friends to humanity; fold It'owj the wind and the night's comum C;i e mo nme food for my mother, in rharitv; on. uive me some ioou, aautnen I'll be gone. was so full of pathos so. to me. dhcriptive of the child's real situation, that I, with the rest of the audience, was completely carried out of the mimic scene, and she concluded her song amid a shower of silver. This was scarcely pardonable, but it tva irresistable. In rny after acquaintance with Mrs. Brockley, I often entreated her to let Winny sing that song on the stage again; but her honest, independent pride would never consent to it sho hud not calculated on such a resu't. Next morning, I pent a pleisant hour wiih .Mrs Brockley and her little daughter, and escorted them to rehearsel. when I sent in my card to the miniEjor, obtaining an interviow, and. npp trenlly, lo h'. groat satisfaction, arranged to appear as Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, about a fortnight from Iho commencement of tho season. Hit my; plans weredoomod to be frustrated. However, in the meantirrio, I became reitly interested in Mr. .Brockleyi af. j

fairs. She told me ani I may repeat her history in a few words that, born in Iudia. she was plncoJ at a boarding-school

in England, nnd becoming acquainted with Mr. Brockley. a younger son. whose fnther insisted on his marrying a rich widfiw, many years older than himself, a romantic attachment ensue 1, which terminated in a privat." marriage, and finally, to avod tho wrath of his father, an elopement. Bat their ra-sh union brought nothing but misery; .their means were soon exhausted and utterly abandoned by her and her husbani's relations, to save themselves from beggary, they had embraced the theatrical profession. Placed in a position for w hich they had little talent and lo9s liking, yet unabla to extricate themselves from it, the fatigue, vexntions, excitement and privations of the precarious life they had chosen, at length threw her husband into n decline, which, nfter long suffering, terminated his existence amidst poverty and sorrow. Left with her little daughter, who evinced extraordinary talent for tho stage, the young widow, without any friand to adviso what was best to ba done, was still struggling on in a strolling company, compelled, as 1 had witnessed, even in the depth of winter, to accomplish her journey on ford. Alas! ibis was a picture of the poor plnyer, 'who struts and frets his hour upon the stage,' which had ncyer before been exhibited to me and yet it was from the life. I confess it disenchanted all my previously conceived visions of a careless joyousness ofan actor's life; however, I fluttered myself that the success of my debut would place me in a vefy different position; hut, within two davs of that event, a letter from my ngent in town informed mo that my brother had been thrown from his horse and killed on the spot, and as he died childless, tho estate devolved upon me. 1 had parted from my brother in wrath, and I was inexpressibly shocked at the suddenness of this catastrophe. Tnat night I took my place by the tniil for London; and on bidding farewell to the Brockleys, entreated permission to be responsible for the expenses of Winny's o lucation, and to be considered a friend in every emergenoy. (conclusion next week.) The Lady Philanthropist. Mrs. Ames was sitting in her room when she haw approaching front M rs. Armstrong, a very public spirited lady, who took a wonderful interest in all reforms and benevolent etjterpri? s, especially those undertaken for the benefit of people at a distance, My dear Mrs. Ames. "she commenced, I am the agent of a sewing circle just established, the object of which is to provide suitable clothing for the children of Patagonia. I am told that they are in the habit of going about in a state ol nature, which, you know, is dreadful to contemplate.' 'Perhaps they are used to it.' 35 j t that is no roason why we shouldn't improve their condition. So we've agreed to h old a meeting two evenings in a week with this object in view. Will you join?' Tm afraid I can't. 1 should ne obliged to neglect my own children, as I presume will be the cose with some of those who attend. Lok, for. example, at that boy in the street, he has a holo in each elbow, and his clothes are covered with mud. I presume his mother belongs lo some of these benevolent associations, and hasn't time to attend to her own children. 'Mrs. Amos,' a9ked her visitor, rising with indignation, 'do you mean to insult ma?' 'Insult you!' was the astonished reply. Ofcoursa not; what makes vou think s ,r Doy.ro. know who that boy is of whom you speak?' No, I don't; but I should liko to. 'You would? Well, ma'am, your curiosity shall be gratified. lie is my son, George Washington Jackson Armstrong What have vou to sav to that?' 'Say? why nothing, only it is unfortunate for tlio poor boy that he wasn't a Patngonian." Mrs. Armstrong, without a reply, swept out ol li. o room wr.n tne majesty ot a queen. She is still canvassing for the eowing circle in behalfof the youthful Palagonians, while George Washington Jackson is permitted to roam the streets at will nn condition that ho will not venture within sight of Mrs. Amos' window. Moral: Philanthropy, like charity. should beem at home, though thevo is no occasion for its ending there. i i New Litany. From Nebraska bills, doctor's pills, western chills and olher ills pray deliver us. From want of gold and wives that scold maidens old, and by sharpers sold preserve us. From apish seers, mock auctioneers, Cossack's cars, and woman's tears deliver us. From stinging flies, and coal black eyes, baker's pie;!, baby cries deliver us. From creaking doors, a wife that snores deliver tis. . From modest girls with waving lair, and teeth that pearls never mind, Snips. Kissane Escaped. Wo learn by telegraphic dispatch that William Kissane, who was taken to New Y'ork on a charge of forgery, vcapod yesterday morning, when he arrived in that city. We know lhat a number of his friends left here in the same train, who would mr.ke a desperato effort to aid him but of the particular! of his escape we have heard nothing. Ctn. Gcz. '

MY MOTH Ell, BT N. r. WILLIS. Mv mother' voice How often creeps Its cadence on my lonely hoirs, Like lie;iiitig on the wings of sleep. Or liew on the unconscious flowers; I might forget her melting prayer, While wildering pleasures madly fly; But in the stitl unbroken air. Hör g utl tones comes stealing by; And years of sin and minYod tl?e, Aud Ieve me ut my mother' kuee. I have been out at eventide, B ?neath n moonlit sky d sprinjr. When e r.h wai gar ished like a brid", A ill nizht h id on her silver wing; When bursting buds aud dewy raai, A id waters leaping to the light. An I all that'tnake the pulses pass With wilder ä-etueno thronged the night; Whn all was beauty, then have I With friends on whom rny love is flung. Like myrrh on wings of Araby, Gazed on whure eveumg'a lamp is hung. And when the beauteous spirit there Filing over all its goldt-n chain. My mother' voice came on the ir. Like the light dropping of the rain; And ren'i'i on some silver ilar, Tho fp'rit uf a bended kne. I've poured a deep aud fervent prayer, That our eternity mL'ht beTo rise in beiven, like Ktirs of night, And tread a living path of liht. IIoroe Bbeakino ior Harness. Befüre the horse is attached to any vehicle the harnsss should be allowed to remain on him in the stabla several hour9 during two or three consfcutive days; he should be led out so he may become thoroughly accustomed to the trappings, and a cord six or seven feet in length should be fastened to each trace. With this the horse is quietly ted about, one man performing that duty, while another follows; holding the aforesaid cords, which, as the animal moves forward, are to be strained so that he feels a slight pressure of the collar upon his shoulders. The intention of this treatment must be obvious; if the horse is alarmed by the effect of the collar, the man holding the cords which are affixed to the traces can instantly relax them; and again when he finds his pupil is reconciled he may renew a moderate strain, and, finally as much resistance as he has power lo create. By this means, the most timid horse will gain confidence, and by perseverance the most refractory may be overcome. A horse, when first encumbered with harness, if immediately attached to a vehicle, is BStonished, whn required to move at finding a pressure on his shoulder which he has never before ex perienced. He discovers another novel apparatus for coufinemant; he is, in fact trammeled, and endeavors to escape: probably he plunges, kicks, or rears and becomes difficult to manage; but by the simple process just recommended all this is obviated. Hints n Training, mm ii i min The old Sukcr's Last Spree. A correspondent of the Troy Daily Times writing from Jirkshiro, Mass., and remarking upon the great change which has taken place injthat region in consequence of the suppression of the rum traffic, tells the folio ving good story ol an old soker who has since reformed, and who is now a regular total-abstinence mau. It is given in the olJ fellow's own words, and is as follows: I once got a little change together, end started off on a 'regular bender. 1 bought a small keg with a bung-hole in the middle of it, so it would be handy to drink from, and had it filled with rum. after taking a few good 'swigs,' I hid it in a cooper shop under some shavings, and started for town. Failing in with some acquaintances, we all got gloriously drunk, and the spare change of the party was soon all gone. Before long we all began to feel miserable dry again; but money and credit were both gone. Fuddled as we all were, we started for the cooper shop. Arriving there after travelling over much extra ground, I got hold of the rum krg, but ;hr 'DUng would not come out. Each one of us tugged and pulled, dug and chewed at it; but all in vain. We seperated in despair. I carried it home with me for a sober trial; and what do you think it was? Why it was the head of an old wooden beetle, with just enough of the handle left to stick in its place. My rum keg was still in the shavings, and there I let it stay. That was my last spree.' A Peep at 'High Life. A fashionable lady in Buffalo, once said to a friend: 'My new house, now directing is to be sublimated and splendiferous. There is to be a Porto Rico in front, a Pizarro in the rear, and a lemonade all round it. The water is to come in at the side of the house in an anecdote, the lawn is to be degraded, and some large frees are to be supplanted in the critic of the rear. This lady has retired to the itnejtines of the country to lead a dysenterylife. This reminds us of another lady in high life," who is reported to have said : She was going to have a house corrected in the subscrubs of the city, with a condition to it so that she could contain her friends in a hostile manner; ihe ground in front were to be laid out in turpentine walks, and a revenue obstructed to lemonade in.

'Ginger?' 'Sah!' 'When am dat great race to cum off dat dar is so much talk about!' 'What great race? I haben't hear'd of any great race.' De human race, de great human nee, dat is to cum off afore long.' Retrenchment in th siie of newspapers seems to be the order of the day arnong Eastern publishers. The Boston Athi has been much reduced.

NO! This is a very short word. It has a very short meaning sometimes. It often blasts fond anticipations; it may bang the whole tenor of a life. In matrimonial matters it would be better that it should be oftener said than it is, for many of that sex sometimes say No when they mean Yes, and should use the shorter word when they do not. One Sunday evening, not many nights ago, the Rev. Mr. Thomas performed a marriage ceremoney at the Tabernacle both parties said Ys at the proper time, and then the reverend gentleman said Amen. "I want you to perform the same thing for me," said a well dressed youngish man to Mr. Thomson. "When?" "Now right off to-night." Can't you put it off a little? It will make it rather late." "No the lady savs now or never, and

( I am very anxious. Will yru go?" "Yes; where is it?" 'Close by only a few steps west of the Park. We are all ready and will not detain you but a few minutes on your way home." Mr. T. went lo the place, which was a respectable boarding hous, and everything evinced decorum. The lady, young and pretty, neatly dressed, and altogether desirable, partner for the gentleman ws presented, and a short prayer, as usual upon such occasions, offered, end then hands joined. "You, with a full sense of the obligations you assume, do promise, here in the presence of God ani these w itnesses, that vou will take this woman, rvhose right hand you clasp in yours, to be your lawful wedded wife, and as such you will love and cherish her forever?'' "I do." "And you, Mist, on your part, will you take this man to be your lawful, wed Jed husband?" "NO!" We have heard in times past when showers were fashionable, some pretty heavy claps of thunder; but none that ever rattled about the tympanum of that bridegroom was quite so loud as that luniiing little monosyllable. "No. I never will!" said &he most emphatically, and walked iway proudly to her seat, leaving her alrnost-husband looking and probably, feeling Just the least trifle in the world foolish. Mr. Thomson remonstrated not to induce her to change that No to Yes, but for trifling with him in a solemn duty of his calling, and asked for an explanation. "I meant no disrespect to yon, sir, or to trifle with your duty, or the solemn obligationjo.ii was called upon to ratify: but I had no other way to vindicate my character. I came to this city a poor sewing girl. I worked for this man. He made proposals of marriage to me but from other circumstances 1 doubted his sincerity, and left his employment and went back to the country for awhile. When I returned, I found the door of my former boarding house closed against me. and this lady, whom I had esteemed as a kind friend, cold and and quite indisposed to renew my acquaintance; and I insisted upon knowing the reason. I learned that this man had blackened tny character, denied his proposals of marriage, and said I was no matter what. I said to the lady, 'let me come back, and I will prove my innocence. Will ycu believe what I say if he will now marry m-?'" "Yes; I cetainly will, and so will all who know you." "I renewed the acquaintance he renewed his proposals I accepted end said 'Yes, get the minister at once.' He slandered me I deceived him. I proved my words true, and his false. It was the only way a poor, helpless girl had to avenge herself upon a mm who had proved himself unworthy to be her. husband. It was only at the right time, to say one word one little word. I have said it. I hope it will be a lesson to men, an example to other girls, and that in many olher aud different circumstances they will learn to say No," "If I was angry, for a single moment." said Mr. Thompson. "I carried none of it over the threshold. It was a severe lesson but well applied. I went home pondering upon the value of that word No. at. mm i From th! National StanJarJ. Stanzas. Breathe no mori the plaintive sigh. Shed no more the briny tenr. Soon beneath the t'irf ibou'it lie. And sweetly, lidy, lumber lhere. Aid the roar thy cheek adorn, Druid with gems thy flowing hiir, Droop no more, like maid f rl ru. And learn thy cypress wrath to wear, Lauh, and dance, and gaily ng, Light the sportive weave the measure; Time is always o i the win?. Nor joy, nor grief endure forever. Lady, lady, weep aot o, Why resign thy youth to sorrow f Cheek those pearly drops of wo, A brighter 8uu may üine to-morrow. Amitt Ja. A gentleman away off in Arkansas, who had been stopping at a cross-country tavern about two weeks, writes to a friend about the manner in which 'hotel affairs are conducted. He says: The regulations of the house are written in a bold round hand, and tacked on to the door of each bedroom. The rules are rigidly enforced, and the slightest deviation is met with th penalty. Here they are: . Gentlemen will black theti boots before leaving their rooms, or they will not be admitted to the table without an extra charge of a bit a meal. 2. Gentlemen going to.b J with their

boots will be f.ued a quarter for the firct offence, four bits for the second, and turned out and sued for their board for the third the landlord holding on to the plunder. 3. No person allowed to call twice far the same dish, without paving an extra bit. 4. Gentlemen not on hand at meal times cannot come to the table, without paying an extra bit. 5. Any gentleman found going to the ladies rooms will hi fined five dollars, and perhaps turned out, es the case is aggravating. 6. All travellers are expected to treat before leaving the house the landlord holding on to the plunder until he ccme out. 7. Loud snoring not allowed, and a fina of a bit for every offence. 8. Country soap for washing giren free; a bit a week for town soap. 9. A half a dime will be charged for the privilege of the back porch, cn shady afternoons. 10. Liquors with white srgar, a bit drink; with common sugar, fire cents. 11. fhe landlord trusts lhat his bearders will observe the above rules, and sey nothing or means will be taken to see that they do. The Pwr Laborer. I will shuw yoa a man, worn, spent; the bOiiyouttina of a human thing, with toil and want, cu, as with an iron tool, upon him; a man to whom the common pleasures of this our mortal heritage sre unknown as the joys of Pradis. Tbi mm toils, even ai the markets vary. Well, he keaps a heart sound as the oak in his bosom. In the sanctity of his soul he bestows the kissof peace upon a grudging world; he compels the homage u! respect, and champions himself against ihe hardness of fortune. In his wretched homestead, he is throned in the mhj-sty cf the affections. His suffering, pat'ent, loving wife paleface, ill clad children -are his queen and his subjects, lie is u king in heart, subduing and ruling ih iron hours; unseen spirits of love end goodness annoint him; and, sir. (said th Hermit in a solemn voice,) aft surely as the kingdom of God is more than a fairy tale, as surely do God's angels sing the poor roan's jubilee. Jerrold.

mmmmg-A Carryiso Bundles Mny teoplo have a contemptible fear cf being seen to carry a bundle, however snnll, havdrg an absurd idea that there is a social degreda'.ion in iho itct. The most trifling c well ai weighty must be sent to them, no matter how much to the inconvenience of others. Thin arises from a low kind of pride. There is n pride that is higher; that arises from a consciousness of there being something in the individual not to ba nffected by such accident? worth and weight of character. This latter pride was exhibited by the son of Jorosne Napoleon Bonaparte. While he was in college at Cambridge, ho v is one day carrying lo his room a broom he had jus; purchased, when he met a friend, who, noiicir.g the broom, with surprise exclaimed. 'Why did you not havo it sent lioine' I am not ashamed to carry homo any thing which belongs to me,' was the sensible reply of young Bonaparte. Very different pride was this from that of a young lady whom we knew, who aiways gave her mother all the bundles K carry when they went out together, because she thought it vulgar to bi seen with one horself. Country Gtntltrxtn, m m One of the omiis ng inciden a of tha late excursions to Rock Island ii thus re lated to us by the Utica telegraph: A gentleman in the wa.'hroom siid to the Captain of the boat, 'cant you give rxe a clean towel, captain'' No,' said the captain, 'more then fifty passengers have used that towel ther, and you are th first one Ihct's seid i word against it Rush on the Land Of fite. The land ofiico at Edwardsville is still j daily crowded with applicants for lands ru rm am izj cents per acre, ine public lands are rapidly disappearing, and the probability is that 6very land office in Illinois, will bo shut in six months hence. There may besomo few tracts and patches of land left but they will be utterly worthless for all practical purposes, and will not be worth paying taxes on. Several good strikes, or lucky hits have been made, it. entering lands recently. one person got 360 acres near the line of Jersey and Macoupi.i counties for 845, which is supposed to be worth nboulglOQO. Another entered land which turn cut to bo a good farm, woilh Irom 610 to 615 per acre, and several cases have recurred where valuable tracts have thus been iccured at a mere trifle. Tho person entering theso lane's is compelled lo ttocar that he intends to actually cttle upon and improve them. In most cases these per. sons are farmers, who enter vacant land near about them, attach them to their farms.settl their children upon ihem.cce. It brings the lands under cultivation and subjects them to taxation. Alton CourUr. Sheridan, one day, met two fop, who thus flippantly tddreised him: "I say Sherry, we have just been discussing whether you ar the greater foil or rogue," what is your opinion, my boyt" Sheriuan, having bowed at this compliment took each by the um, and instantly replied, "Why faith, I Geliere I am be. tween them both." ,'Does smoking offend you?' tuked an American landlord of his newly arr!rd boarder. Not at all., tir.' 'Ism. very glad to hear it. es you will find your cblan7 is given lo the pracllc!'

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