Terre-Haute Journal, Volume 4, Number 36, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 June 1852 — Page 1

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WpMMM

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VOL. IV.

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WILLIAM MOORE & WM. E. McLEAN,. PJTOPJfcll&TGRS PUBLISHERSy.j TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. For »t* IMpft*.. -#i «*#•»t» Per AnnBin# )f wilf #ithln SU MOBIIM. At Ib« »«K1 ef St* Mpaths.^.,... %.. r........ 5....«

Aft«r the •xpiratios of the Y«**.

W«, will reoltVe fl,50f if paid on

receipt »f th*

U*LlUer»l discount rntde to yearly adverthnn..

HevtaoA Statutes of 1S5&

i.—The Wew Law of »w««i

$***» mM4 t" Th*«1frr9t

important Act passed at ibe present

session, and on* of the most important ever passed in Indiana, the revised law of descent*. it makes changes radical end sweeping abolishes principle* of law that have prevailed lor the last gix or eight centuries—since the days of William the Conqueror—and most of which stiii prevail over the (Joion, except in ft few Stales, which lean to the 6ivU law system.

The general character of this change is

By this law tenancies in dower and by the cour '&tesy,are abolished. A brief explanation of the character of these tenancies may, to those not familiar with law, be acceptable.

Dower entitled the widow, as tenant, to the use, .during life, of one third of the lands of h*r husband. She might occupy the land, %r draW It* rents, or sell her right as tenant. But, being a tenant only, she could not sell any part of the land, nor cut timber for sale, nor do unything that might be coustrued into injury or waste. As tenant of her own children, or of her husband's father, mother, brother, sister, nephew *or niece, she was compelled to maintain buildings, fences, &c., in good repair as when committedto ?bM. (Revised Statutes, Chap. 28, Sect. 107.)— s* and if sho failed in this, of ,oom milted or suffered

any other waste (as cutting timber, except for fuel for her own use, ar?to repair fence* or,bu icings on the f*im)*he *MJ£* o»^l held to pay the damage "done, but in addition, forfeited the premises to her ^children, or to the hefor* mentioned relatives or the husband. (Same Chap, See. 106 Although a ^tenant only, liable to bo thM turned out, she was "compelled to pay taxes on tho land, a* if she had «*beon owner. (General Laws of 1847-8.)

Curtesy gave the widower a contingent right lo Hii* wife's lands. If he had children by her, born "alive he lipid her lands for life, as 'tenant by the curtesy of England.' There is no provision in the !Revised Code of 1843, or any subtenant statute .making the widower liable for waste, or subjecting his tenancy to forfeiture, or requiring him.to pay taxes. At common low, however.he was liable for -wtisto, but whether to forfeiture, in case of waste, we do not now distinctly recollect, but we think not. 11 he had by his wife, no child born aHve, he had not curtesy in her lands. Thus by a strange fiwhim of the law, if the wife dying left children, the husband took during his litrt, afr the rents of her jlands as against hor children, even if hemtirribd "again and had wirthor famfty but if she left no 'children to whom her ire*! estate could descend* "then it passed wholly away from the surviving husband abo,«:

We proceed to show the effect of this and other principal changes rtiade in regard to descents, by placing in juxtaposition, in separate columns, the provisions of the old law and of the new,

Under ike old Law, Under ike Neif Law. I—A* TO KKA1. R8TATS. 1—43 TO REAL tfSTATE. A widow with children, *A widow with children a

dower

order,

?ower

in one-third takes one«third of her

of hes hu«bnn4'i ept««. huaba^'s in ee -That.'third she htjld du simple, absolutely* anil ling her Ufe, as the tenant the children take equally •of her children, being li^ the remaining two

ablo to them for waste, This she takes as against and for maintenance, in her husband wilt, and flood

er only, as the tenant of!thir 01 molhet of the such IkthHS mother, hro^ husband alive, eh* takes ther, sister, nephew, or three-fourths and the fa niece, and was liable to ther or mother, or both,

them for waste, and for maintenance, in good or der, ot the premises.— Two-thirds of the land wront at onoe to these re latton^, and the remain

In cole of an inlt^srte without children, if the husband left no father hor mo'hef, \»or brother,

nephew HOC nteoe nortdwtant grandfather nor grandmo jmot ther nor uncle nor autrtf nor cousins hat tf hot any other temote relati hit widow took one-hel eettte, and that ot! tuorc remote relative tho other

thirds

of the premi-«# creditors except th»t

sea. The widow took if the eatote exceed 810,dower, as against credit- 000 she takes only oneors and against the hui- fourth, and if over t20,band's will, no matter how«O0 only one-fifUu as iarire the estate. ervtitor*. 'P The widow of an lf»ti?«*J 'l^te widow of Hh

ile with one child, took twttato, with one child, only, and was ihe takes half tho land and tenant of her child

The widow of an fates

the child takes the other half. The widow of ati In

tftto, without children,if-ttstate whhom children if the husband left either fa-'the estate be under# 1000

ther, of mother* brother, orist«r| or trtece, took" dow

t|kea the whole of it. If it be over cms thousand dollars, and therfe be a. fa

(ako one-fourth. If there tuie »u be no (ether or mother, she take* the whole. Brothers, staters, nephew* or nieces of the huebend takes no part of the

trig third went to them upstate as against the wldthe widow'* death.

r.,

ow. The widow of to intestate, without children takes the whole estate, as against grandfalbers, or

nor sitter, nor no phew.{grandmothers, or uucles, nor niece hut if he left or aunu, or cousins.^ either grand father or pand mother, or uncle, or Met, or eousia, male or female the estate went one-fourth tn fee to the fcidow, andthreo fewrths to toy oi such relatives 1 In oaee of an tntttatatej without childreo, if henat«s withoot childrtsn, |th no firther nor roother*t*ke* the whdle ««t«te, «s nor brother nor eieler nonagelnst any relativa more ti»a father «r

Theemnwnghnl wile, U^tate or in testate, if by her he hadkate takes t^ldivn horn »live, heW|H*r eelate, tn

-'SI*

liio wtdow dT *t) int«-

The" *e nrlvmg husbai^f fa wticbt estate or into*of for, wfceth

^tenant t^| tho h«v»*f

rW7

2,0$ 2*54 3,00 t»* loo

fil«Nggy- of tb« estate of bis wife,

tr No paper di»:ootlnoed aittii «B whether is Iwuit orb except *t the #pti«n of Dieproprietor*. j^e "J TEttHS OF ADVEHTWIJfC." Otu Sq«tre-Ti»r«e W«efct.»•»•»• «.•usan***-• f'W E ad it on a In on S a

2r~A$Jp persona J* .rag?

The widow of an intestate, with one child, took one-third of the per* sonal property, and the child took two-thirds. 3-AS TO ADMI.NISTHATIOK. ^Estates of two bun

already

known to our readers, as embodied in a series of resolutions introduced by Mr. Owen early in December last, and were fully explained by him in a speech published by us on December 20th. But it is important, that its provisions should be known with accuracy in detail as ihey come home, in the ease of the death of a parent, to every family in the land The law it should be remembered, goes in to operation on the first ot August next.

4-as To^ttAnocmttntat If all the children of an intestate were grandchildren onty sur-

for

it*

the whole of her landejher, children born alive daring iife.sabject to the or not Common Law provision* against waste by tenants for life. If I13 had by her no child born 'slive, he look no put whatever

The oaf# of Col. Fremont came up in the Court Of Exchequer, on the 5tb inst. The Attorney General entered Into a history of the bills in question, which had been drawn by the Colonel, orr the faith of the United States in favor of a person named Hutman, who had just made advances for the supplies required by the U. S. troops serving in MexicO,j C'ol. Fremont being the cpmninmler qf tjbefe troops and Governor of California.

Col. Fremont had stated that he had no intention of making himself liable for the:bills of exdhstngQ, and that Hutmah welt kne# this whisn he reOeived the bill—wore dated in 1847, and the plaintiffs baoome possessed of tbem in the month of June, 1650 afler hearing the arguments the Court thought it better that the parties should go again before Baron Aldersoi in order that the affidavits mights be amended and tho matter put into shape for a solemn decision.

AN ABOUTIOWIST CIARD.—A letter from New York says: Mr. WiUism Johnson, the treasurer, we believe,—at alt events one of the leading officers—of tho Anti-Slavery society, was arraigned, tried, and found guilty of,the offence of coining nnd passing counterfeit money. It Appears that this worthy, who was an English abolition emissary, had, for some years^been in the habit of manufacturing large quantities of spurious coin—an occupation for which his original calling as silver worker particularly qualified him. He joined a church, and soon took high rank in the association for spiriting away foreign slaves. Money man be» came plenty in the oolfers of the kidnappers, and Mr. Johnson, thinkihg, doubtless, that he was doing! God and himself service at the same time, waxed bolder and more reckless in his nefarious pursuits. But the eye of justice was upon him, and its hand eventually grasped him. He proved a most excellent charaaoter*—but in vain. Neither hisexetnpla* ty piety, his philanthropy nor his philosophy^oould save him. 1 he evidence of his guilt was irresistible he was convioled. and sent for a term of years to ihe state prison. We eondofo with 'the Anfi Slavery.society upon thoir loss of such a valuable officer, and such a worthy member of this resgect able fraternity,

We trust that our ftmalO reader* til noi over-

look the following *. .a Gardening for GfirZ*.—Some INT the boat wrl terson education in the country have advocMed the imuortance of thfs subjeot, and the peculiarly healthful end^ strengthening influences that atfend it!

Miss Beeoher, in her work on Domestio Economy, recommends every father to set apart a portion of his yard and garden for fruits and flowers, and aee that the aoil is well prepared and dug over, and all the rest may be oemmitted to the children. Those would need be provided with a flight hoe and rake, a dibble or garedn trowel, a watering* pot, and means and opportunities for socuring wd^ roots, buds, hnd grafts, ail which might be done at a trifltng expense* -Then, with proper encouragement, and by the aid of such directions, isstt contained in thw work, tvery msn wrho has even half an acre, oould secure a small B^cn around his premis«i. *-1 A.. .IA-

Ku ropean paper* state thst a grrl

now beingVxhibited to Parte, aod is there attracting great aUennoh, who possesses the power of tummg fbunad oti onev fe^tbr the spaeje of tihte which were wo not assured of the fact by an eye witness, who ha* just arrived in New York frmn Havre, weehouId heoitatt to believe possible. On one occasrotv, Madatnoi»eHe Amgetine perfcnwsd three hundred aad fifty evolutions in a mim*»e!— She doe* hot appear af aH giddy after the operation and4e a rem«rkably pretty and finely formed person. .Her feet are very small, but of a singular musculttr development. Perhaps the most sinking part of the exhibition is whet* Mile. Angeline fits a circular saw to her waist, in order that the visitors £r,ay lest tKe force with which she spins, by applying pieces of wood to th* saw. Her costume is a oomfdate suit ot

•Halt

.»

As against creditors. the will of the husband, and *11 the world, thetand all the

widow took one hundred and fifty dollars before distribution.'

2—^5 TO rsRsoxAj, rpoF» ERTT.

As against creditors the will of the husband,

worlds the three bun* before dis*

widow take* dred dollars, tribulion.

The Widow of an intestate with one child, takes half the personal proper* ty, and the ohild ukes

the

red dollars or less wenLdred dollars or less, go to to the widow without administration. ml

other half.

/t.

3-AS TO ADMINISTRATION. Estates of threo bun

the widow, without ad ministration, in trust for herself and infant children, if any, with remainder to herself, if no infant children, then to herself absolutely. 'fljfc ¥0 GitATtoc^nJnMm.

If all the children of

dead, and an intestate be dead, and! grandchildren only sur

vived* they inherited by vivo, they inherit equally, without reference to the have inherited if jnumber in each family.

their fathers

familic would alive.

The thorough changes thus made in our law of descents wi|l be felt, ere this generation passes away, in every household in lndiat»a.? Their influence

good or for evil, will speedily be tested.—

For ourselves, we confess our surprise, that provisions so monstrous as aome of those which have bsen eradicated, should have been suffered, until now, to disgrace tho statute book of a Christian country.—'Stale Sentinel. i-

^astk crimson sitk,

which d»^ays adoMrahly the state esqaefrdporttooa of revolutionary yoen^ledy. ^4 &' 'J ""-a1 ,. lk« Cornell asMft iM ^IfeedUe^i Kre."

Lord Kajsat, ha lusrtoeai pohbomioo, "L—drs Qmrnd and 8*»d,w has given an appticatioo of thewenrds Whichprom the fitness of the expression fer tSo object o«r S^'Horlbad in view. Lord Nugent described hitnaelf is ahont to waft oat ot Hebron throng,fc tin large g*i*i wheo htstompankms seeing a whi of OIIMI approacbiag, deaitred htm lo go thremgh «tbe eye of the needle" in other wonU wwslf gate, Thi# kb tordsfeip ccnceim «o he temrnon exprnnkw, and explanatory of our Simor's words fer, he *dds. Ae snwipier eawci tniw pui iinwuipi BWWI wWi jww uwiwiwy* jiftlittibtfrf fc&l iMtHMiML sttil fa* irtinr hiiitlii

THE WA5DERltS8 MPPU**. Tb«4qr«Uf»ee, and tlto aigbt-wtwd«^^H uAshI tba iaewtiaf wiada weatby, t,'. Aid the bUa4ing riaet fail thick and

From a atom aati stormy sky, Wbea a moorafal watt, thro* the roaMajpue, Wa« tb» dow— Ofa!carry aas back—oki carry tw back,

Te my mother's home oaee note. •Twas a ttinth who had left bts wsaWsliiaft lie hid tnadond &r«ad loaf*. ,•••( He had drained the febtet's fiery tide, ff Al tiie featai, midnight throng.

Bat a dream of home came o'er hi* heart,

Aa he crept to the cottage doer-— Oh! carry me beck—oh! carry me hack, Me mj tnotber'a home aoee mere. 1 hare left the hall ef the tempter'a power

And the revel wttd and high— They cared a«l, ia tfaoir reekiee* mirtik, ... If I wandered alone to die. t.ft,. ^Dolb the fire atill burn on the h»ia(mo12 neianb,

By the elm tree old and heart Oh! carry *0* b«»ck—eh! carry me back).4 saMTo my mother'a home oaee non^jj.^

Like the weary Wrd that has waadeiwl I wilt eeek my aaoaotaio neat, Aad lay thi* aching head once more

On my gentle mother'* breast. Once more I'll a&k the household hearth, By tho etrn ti^e old and hoar— Oh! Carry me back—oh! Carry ma back,

To my mothora home osce more, 4

ITLIAL LOVE EEWABDED.

•You are too parsimonious Henry,' said Mr. D. to.one of his cifsrlcs, a* they were together in the house one morning, 'give me leave to say, that you do not dress sufficienly genteel to appear in a fashionable storoi.* Henry's foes was suffused with a deep blush, and in spite of his endeavors to suppress it, a tear trembled on his manly oheek. 'Did I not know your salary was sufficient to provide more genteel habiliments,' continued Mr. D.^ I would increase it.'

r, iJlf

•My salary is sufficient air,.

treplied"

He was in the deolioa of life and wished to see Caroline happily settled ere he quitted the stage of existence. It was not long before he suspected that young' Henry was the cause'of her indifference to others the evident pjeasur&she took in hearing him praised the blush that overspread their cheeks whenever their eye* m«ft*, all served to convince the old genlemen, who had not forgotton that he was once young himself, that they felt more than common interest ,in each others welfare, He forbore making any remarks on the subject, but Was not so much displeased as penniless Henry would have imagined.

Henry had been about a year in his servioe. Dolanoy knew nothiog of bi* family but hia strict integrity and irreproachable mortis, his pleasing manners, all oonspirod to maWhirn esteem him highly. He Was pr6ud of Henry, and wished him to appear as respectable as any one. He had Oft en wondered at the scantiness of hi* wardrobe, for though be dressed with die most scrupulous regard to neatness his clothes were almost threadbare. Mr. f). did not wish to think that this proceded from a niggardly disposition and be determined to' broach the subject and if possible ascertain the real cause —this he did in the manner before related.

Soon after this conversation took place, Mr. D. left home on business. Ashe was returning, and, riding through a beautiful village, he alightea at the door of a Httle cottage and requested a drink The miatriss with an ease and politeness which cenvtn oed him that she had not always been an humble cottager, invited him to enter. He accepted the invitation—and here a scene oi poverty and neatness presented itself such as he had never befbre witnetied. The furniture consisted of nothing more than was necessary, Was exquisitely clean, *0 that it gave a charm to poverty, and cast an air of com fort on all around. A venerSble looking old man, who did not seem to notice the eutrance of Mr. D. sat leahing on bis stiff hi* clothes were clean and whole, hut so patched that you could not h«v#told which bad been the original piece. J""

This is your father 1 presume/ i^d Mr?D, id1dressing the mistress of Ute house. «It1odir/ '\4 .'•*«? 'He teeait to be quite aged.? 'He is in hie eighty-third jeari he has survived all his children except nays#.' 4 *Tou h*ve *een Wtter dMr*.' *1 hawMBy husband Was wealthy but false friend* rained him—ho endorsed notes to a l«rge mno«M whioh eturippod u* of seariy aliour property, and one xuiaifbrtttoe fiUowed another until we were reduced to complete poverty. My husband did not totig aurvhre hiA losses, and two. of my children MOO followed him.*

Ha«e yon aoy remakitng chi^rear 'I have one and he is my only sOpport. *My heahh is an feeble thall oaim^r do nmclh and my father beiag bliod, needs grear aPention. My mm conceals from my knowledge tba MMMHCof IISMI•ry hut I am cooviooed ho aondf me nearly «tt, DM the whole amount of II* *Ttm he i* wi^t yo^r *K« sir, he ia clerk, toe a merchant ic lUidttgkku* tM for fomtoM in Philadelpl^ 'm yoortoo^wMT 'iieaary .*

HUemy-H——T reiterated M#w 'why he im mj okshl JLIelt him at mfu heme nolm iscm%hi

llcrefollowcd a semis of* ini}mks, wlrcii evweaite* Imxicly' ani ^suiidlade a'miiei&»r'af<m«

!*1

Henry a

voice choked with eraojion, but with that proud independence of feeling, ^hich poverty had not been able to divest him of. ilia employer noticed his agitation and immediately changed the subject.

Mr. 1). was a man of wealth apd benevolence he was a widower and had but one child, a daughter who was the.pride of his declining years. She was not as beautiful aa an angel not- as perfect as a Venus 5 but. the goodness, the inoooepce, the intelligence of her mind shone in her countenance, abdyou had but to become acquainted with, to admire to love' her." Such was Caroline Delancy, when Henry first beoame an inmate in her father's house. No wonder he soon worshipped at herphrine—no wonder he soon loved her with deep devoted attention—and, reader, had you knoiy.n him, you would not have wondered that his love was soon returned, for their souls were cohgenial they were cast virtue's purest mould—and although their tongues never gave utterance to what their hearts felt, yet the language of their .'eyes was too plain to be misunderstood. Henry was the very soul of honor and although he perceived with pleasure that he was not altogether indifferent to Caroline, he felt as though he must control the passion* that glowed in his bosomp^l must not try to win her young and artless heart, thought he—I am pennylesss and cannot expect that her father will consent to our union—he has ever treated me with kindness and-1 will not he ungrateful. Thus he reasoned, and thus heroically endeavored to subdue what he considered an ill fated passion. Caroline-had manysuitor* and some who were full worthy of her, bat she refused all their overtures-with a gentle and decided firmness. Her father wondered at her conduct yet oould not thwart her inclination.*

could leel—to all of which Mr. I), replied to her perfect satisfaction/^

Filled with this project, and determined if pos sible to ascertain the truestate of their hearts, be eOlerOd the breakfast room the next morning after hi* arrival homo. 'Do vou know that Henry i* about to leave us tO go to England and try his fortune,' he carelessly observed®" 'Henry about to leave!' said Caroline,"dropping the work she held in her band—'about to leave us, and goipg to England!' she addedL|n a joRe w.hi»h evinced the deepest interest.

^TERRE-HAUTE, INDIAN^ E 4, 1852. NO. 36.

ts^

.j V»Y0u know our Henry,* Aid the old man raie-ing-Us bead fron his stafif. 'Well, sir, the* you know as worthy a lad as ever lived. God wiH bless bim for his goodness to bis old grandfather/ he added in a tremulous voice, while the tears ran down bis cheek*. •He isa worthy fcilow, TO be sure,'said Mr. D. riiingand^koing a well filled purse into the hands of the old man. *He is a worthy fellow and shall not want friends.' •Noble boy,' said W rnenfi^Iy, as "he was riding alone, ruminating on his late interview 'noble boy he shall not want wealth to enable him to distribute happiness. I believe he loves my girl, and if he does be shall have her and all-my property Into tho bargain.'

'But what if he is, my childT

Lno

•Nothingi air, nothing, only I thooght we should be rather toaosorae.' 'Tell me, Caroline,' said Mr. D„ tenderly embracing her, 'tell me, jdo you not love Henry!— You know I wish yoUr happiness my ohild. 1 have ever treated you with kindness, aod you have-nev-er until how hid anything from your father,' ""Neither wi^l I now,' she replied hiding her face in hi* bosom, '1 do most sincerely esteem him, but do not for worlds tell him of it, lor be has never ^*id it was returned.' 'I will soon find that out, and without telling him too,' replied the father, leaving the room.

'Henry,'said he a* he entered the tfBdftftnghouse, 'you expect to visit the country snoruy, do you not?' •Yes, in about a month.' ^-rjrtf 'If it would not be inconvenienT,v rejoined Mr. D., shouhi like to have you defer it a week or two longer.' •It will be

inconvenienoe, sir, and if it will

%liligeyou 1 will await tvith pleasure.' It will most certainly oblige me, for Caroline is lobe married in about five weeks, and I would, not miss having ydu attend the wedding.' 'Caroline to be married sir,' said Henry starting as if by an eleotrio shock-'Caroliue to be married I —is it possble?' 'To ^e sure it Ut—but,wha^is jihere wo^derfi^l

Nothing, sir, only it was father su^ert—rather unexpected—that's all,' 'it i* rather sodden, to be sure,' replied Mr. D. but am an old man, and as the, man. of ,her choice is well worthy of her, 1 see 110 use in wait ing any loftger, and am very glad you can stay to the Wedding/

I cannot stay* sir, indeed I'cannot/replied Ue9ry,/orgeltjng what ho had previously aakl.*f& You cannot!' rrjoined Mr. D., why you said you would.' .. 'Yes, sir, but business requires my presence tn the*-country, and 'must go*.' 'J[lut ypu safti it^wdnld pot you' Tb no inconveniertco, at)d that you would wait with pleasure.' •Command m# in anything else, sir, but ih this respect 1 cannot oblige you,' said Hienry rising and Walking with rapid strides across the floor,

Poor fellow he had thought his passion aubdued but when he found that Caroline was soon, so ir revocably to- become anothbr's',v the latent spark burst forth in On unextinguished flame and he found it in vain to endeavor to conoeai hi* emotion.

The old gentleman regarded him with a look of earnestness. 'Henry,' said he, tell me frankly— do you love my girl?' *1 will be candid With you, sir,' replied Henry oonscious that hi* agitation had betrayed him,%had 1 a fortune suoh as she merits, and as you, sir, have aright to expect, 1 should think myself the happiest of men, oould gain her love.' •Then she is your*,' cried the delighted old man 'say not a word about property, my boy true worth is better than riohe*. 1 was only trying you Henry, and Caroline will never be married to any other than youmelf.-' sV rr-.-.

The transition from dispair to happiness was great. For a moment, Hepry remained silent but his footts spoke volumes. At last, '1 will not deceive you iir,' isfaid he, I am poorer than what you *uppos6-°»r ha»e a mother and grandfather, who

'I know It, 1 kttow it nil, Ilenry/ Slid Mr. D., interrupting him. 'I know the reason of your parsimony, as I called it, and honor you for it—it is that which first put it into my held to grve you Caroline—she will he your* and may God hie** you both/

Shortly after this conversation, Henry avowed his love to Caroline, and solicited her hand, and it is needless to say he did not solicit in vain. Caroline would have deferred their union nntil the ensuing spring, but her fathnr was inexorable. He supposed he should have to own tn ooe little deception, he said, and they would have him shoulder two but that was too much, entirely too much and he would not eodure it be had told Heiliy that she was going to be married in five week*, and he should not forfeit his word. jfBui perhaps,' added he, apparently recollecting himself, and fuming to Henry, 'perhaps we shall have to defer it after all, for you have important busine** in the country about that dme.* •Be merciful, air/ said Henry smiling, 'I did not wisfr to witness the sacrifice of my own happi-

'I am merciful/ replied the old gentlemen, Jaad for that reason I would not put you to the inoonveniecce of staying. You said you would willingly oblige me, hot yon could not, indeed you could not.' •too have once Wen yoaog, sir,' said Henry. *1 know it, know it,' replied be. laogtwng heartily, 'but 1 am Afraid that loo maoy otd folks forget it—howsvor, if yta can postpone your joura^, 1 rappoee wo must have a wedding.' -u 1

We have only to add, that the firieods of Henry were MM lot, aad the tmptselrf aokooiaed al the appointed time aad that Messed with the filial love of Henry and Caroline, tho eld people passed the HunakKhirsf their days in peaoe and happMxw*.

.. -A yoang lady who voice of aeotimental man, who was

LIFE

IWpiwjw

wore ... spectacle* said, 10 a iff jnuBg plow-

appreciate UM fceauty of iandscffw! Ob see those darling aheap and lamb* skipping about!' 'Tbw mot eheep and fcttafca* ihjmV hog* mi**/

or 4 3orrus*A*—He get* op letarriy, road* the" paper regolmrly, dresses fsjbiooaWy. wats lart girav*$r, t*fk« iatlplvijf ClllWJfWllWIW iWJF UIHKM ftfpVfiravwwj kills time jndjtferwBtly, suns ekwandy, soeslohed #mdmf9

walking* on mo road 'Do you, sk,

s-i) & *w

Scrap^ fioiia t^e Kaickerbockcr Maaaaiae.

°A iHend "lir^tockhridge (Mass.) sends us ffie following anecdote of the Rev. Zeb. Twitchell, a Methodist clergyman in full regular standing, member of the Vermont Conference. At one time he represented Stockbridge in the State Legislature 'Zeb/says our informant, 'is a man of fair talents, both as a preacher and a musician. In the pulpit he is grave, solemn, and dignified—a thorough, systematic sermonixer but out of -the pulpit, there is no man living who is more full of fun and droileiy. On one occasion, he was wending his way toward the- seat of Annual Conference of ministers, in company with another clergyman.— Passing a country inn, he remarked to his companion: •The last time I atopped at that tavern, I slept with the landlord's wife''

In utter amaxerrtent, his clerical friend wanted to know what he meant. 'I mean just what say replied Zeb. and on went tho two travellers in unbroken silence, until they reached the Conference. In the early part of the session the Conference sat with closed doors for the purpose of transacting private business, and especially to attend to the examination of each -member's private character, or rather oonduct during the past year. For this purpose, the clerk called the roll, as was the custom, dt^e course Zeb.'s name was called.

'Doe* any one know slight against the conduot of Brother Twichell during the past year?' asked the Bishop who, who was presiding officer.

After a moment'a silence Zeb.'* travelling companion arose from his seat, and, with a heavy heart, and grave demure countenance, said that he felt that he had a duty to perform orto that he owed, to the church and to himself. He must therefore discharge it fearlessly, though with trembling, lie then related what Zeb. had told him while passing the tavern how he slept with the landlord's wife, etc. The grate body of the ministers was struck as with a thunderbolt although a few boiled, and glanced first upon the Bishop, knowingly, for they knew better than the others the character of the accused. The Bishop called up 'brother T./ end asked him what he had to say in relatiotMo so serious a charge. Zeb arose and said '1 did the deed! 1 never lie/ Then pausing with an awful seriousness, he proceeded, with slow and solemn deliberation: 'There was one little circumstance, however connected with the affair, I did not name to the brother, it may not have much wieght on the Conference, but although it may be deemed of trifling importance, 1 will state it. When 1 slept with tho landlord's wife, as 1 told the brother, kept the tavern myself

Tho long and troubled oounteuarrces relaxed a titer followed and the next name on tho roll was called. ,,

HOLI.BURD BE DY A •Great Modifiine/ as the Indians phrase it, in Maryland, from whom we shali'always bowel! pleased 10 hear, sonds us two or three item*, the perusal of which may assist digestion 'A worthy physician of oui city, a member ol the Society of Friends, has a favorite negro coachman who Happen* to be a ^felhodist. Nof only fs *6am' & Methodist, but he is also as bright and shining alight in the churoh as it' is possible for suoh a piece of ebony to be, You know, 1 presume, how the blacks conduct their duvotions. Well, Sam was in the habit of seleoting his master'* kitchen as the seen# of the social meeting^ which he led and these religious services Were not conducted entirely on the plan whioh a Quaker would altogether approve. The Doctor, however, is famous for his good nature, and he endured th6 boi«terous piety of his servant and his friends with .wonderful equanimity. One night, however, when they had been unusually 'powerfut in prayer/ the Dr. thought proper to administer a genii# reproofi So, the meeting over, the zellous coachman was summoned before his master. •Sam/ said the old gentleman, 'why doc* thee make so much npise in prayer? Doesn't thee know that the Almighty Is hot far olf, but nigh unto 1hee neither ishis eardeaf, that it cannot heart He can hear thee as well when thee whispers al wheo thee roars/ 'M$ssa Doctor,' replied Sam, full of confidence in his superior theological lore, 'you isn't read the Scrip'ters wid no kind ob 'tenshun.' y-s-

IIaw so, Sam?* Why. vna done forgot* 'pears to me. plain as kin be, 'JIotler^4 body name)' -f ,*•*

A JN8W «PAC9L,ATTENF *4.1

•Dick Bedford,' say* a clever Wisconsin correspondent, 'a perfect speclmep of unmitigated improvidence/ upon being censured by hi* employer for his vagrancy an^ destitution, 'came baok' with an excuse, which, a* it was accompanied with his 'I'll swear it'* a fact/ cannot, of oourse, be questioned.

You see, Csptain/ shid he, 'I've not always been so infernally poorr Last Aogu*t I 'tended Dodd's furnace, aod a* running some hot lead into the pig-moulds, I spilt In it, out of my vest-pocket, throe hundred dollar? in silver, that I wis keeping for a fellow, and, by Gimini, it melted quicker than you could say 'Jack Rob in ton'! •And *0 you lost it responded the Captain. 'Ail but the lo$tr replied Dick, 'I jest said nothing to nobody: bought that pig, and 1 sold it to a jeweler in Galena for five hundred dollars. That'* the kind of speculations 1 get I Shall I water the horses now, Csptainl'

DID MO0S8 WEJMl BOOTii

A little boy, 'well In bis boots* for the first time, and very proud of them, s*id to his mother, sfler reading his customary chapter in Scott's Family Bible in the morn ing: Mother, why didn't Moses wear bootst* *WM?, my son, what makes yon ask that question? Perhaps he did wear boot*, my dear we don't know/ 'No, mother, be did'nt, because the Bible sar* that the voice that came out of the burning bu*h told him to take off hi* tkoet/' There was no rejoioder lo this 'ollncherl*

PgEsavATKm or Boot.—The following cheap and easy modee of prewrrving eggs for culinary ose are from BroWni's "American Poult ty Yardr

Recipe Ho f.—Pack the eggs to h* preserved in an* oprighi waser-tfgfct oasfc, with fhelr tmali ends downward*. Take eight faacu of unslaked lime, one haiCpounrl ol common *nit» two ounce* of cream fartar} mixin water so a* to hoar up an egg, with its top juat ahova the suriaoeijpowr the mixture in the uesk containing the eggs, and they will keep *0»ftd M»d good.

Recipe No. 2.—Pack 0m eggs }o ho preserved common «sh, with the emaft Wid tkey «dl keop totawbly good

downward, and

We hoard the jfagowing interesting conversation a few days *»ace, h^weao two m^ididates for nea-

•What, yoo just ready to report verbal phooeticafty, andean*!do that! Josl look hens tfMot $•£ 9ft, fat.' T*'

mix

Otto Gotdscbmidt*

Thai Jenny Lind, the favored, the courted, the wealthy, at whose feet the homage of all Christen* dom was laid, should select for her partner in life a young unknown mrtifie, whose name was never heard in the world of which she was the brightest cynosure, surprised everybody. Hut the .secret spring which moved her to an action so apparently incongruous was not exposed uutil now. The key to the mystery is furnished in this bit of the history of her early life from tho N. Y, Musical World." "Otto Goldschmidt's marrutge with Jenny Lind, was after all a very natural affair the world had imagined it to be eelestifcWfrom the divini character of Jenny, most likely, He married Jenny and Jenny married Otto after the usual manner—it was a bargain between the two oontracting parties, both having the necessary mental oapaoity to enter into the covenant and it was induced at least by some of the usual ooncomitantsOf contracts—it had the consideration, at all events, of a Last will and testament—natural affection. Oh her part it was a return for obligations oonferred by Otto and Olio's father, besides sundry other onuses "moving her thereunto" and on his side he seems to have made a kind of draft on his God-mother, whioh was accepted and paid in promises of love, honor and obedience. Thousands of persons have committed matrimony and passed along the world, as the lawyers say, ''under bonds" and we do not see that Otto Gotdschmidt and Jenny have made out a different case at all. *'.• fj

Mr. Goldschmidt i* the favorite son of one of the richest merchant* in Uamburgh, Germany. His grandfather is proprietor of a gigantic Silk Merchants House, that has three establishments ono in London, a neoond in Hamburgh, and the third in Liepzig. Otto Goldschmidt was therefore Jenny Lind'a equal in wealth, needed noue^f h^c^ioaoy, and oared not a pin for it.

Many years ego, when the Swodlsh Nightingale was a poor birdling, without friends or money. Otto Goldsohmidt'8 father (being as sagacious as he was wealthy, and as benevolent as he was sagaoious,) protected, aided', fostered her it may be that the merry young Otto, who was then a oharming little fellow, soul-full of genius, and loving to a fault, said many kind things to the gentle andvj talented Swede, wa* caressed by her in turn, and$f| learned to love her *0 well when a child, that he oould not overcome his affection for her when ho was a man and so, of course, it overcamo him. Ho was Alendlessohn'a favorite pupil, and early exhibited remarkable musical talouts and the fair Swede doubtless felt that interest and aflection for the splendid boy that the child of genius ever feels for beings of like exquisite organizations and heaven-gifted attributes. They who know the human heart, will not think it strange, after reading thus far, that Jesny Lind shnuld have loved Otto and each dearly loving tho other, it is not wonderful^ that they bhould have been married it is onl wonderful that they were not married beforo,^?.' 1 fi, ..1' .1

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Afiftieil'^JTmr"Lfttfim pretty hand atill pretty foot always go together when we speak of the one we ure sure to think of the other. For this reason, stepping on a woman's foot is equivalent to squeezing her hand, and equally proper, but sometimes more convenient, as it can be dona under the table. Be careful, however, never to attempt it at a crowded table, for fear ota making a mistake^ We once saw a lady very muoh confused, who was trying to give a signal to a gentleman opposite, and instead of his, she trod ond pressed on the corn covered toes of an old baohelor. 110 bore it a* long a* be oould, and then very quietly remarked,1 Madame when you again wish to *top on\ gentlemen1* toes, be particular and get tho fool that belongs to him—for the last five minutes you have been jamming my poor corn* most un* mercifully."4. ...

tt i# The English Women of Fashion. Lord Jeffrey, in writing to a female friend in America, describe* very happily a "first olas* specimcn of on English woman of fashion." "Great quietness, simplicity of manner, with a certain dignity And self-possession that puts vulgarity out of countenance, and keeps presumption in awe a singularly aweet, aoft and rather low voice, with remarkable cleganoe and ease of diction perfect taste in wit, and manner*, and conversation, but no ioquacioity, and rather languid spirits a sort of indolent disdain of display and accomplishments an air of great good nature and kindness, with but too often some heartle**ne**» duplicity and ambition. These are some of the traits, and suoh, 1 think, a* would moat *trike an at/American. You would think her rather cold and epiritle** but she would predominate over ydu in the long run and indeed it is very bewitching and dangerous creature, more seductive and grace*, ful than any other 11 the wc^^ but not better or happier: and 1 am even speflQpg of the very best and mo^pperfoot.

A SAILOR'S IDEA or FAITH AND GOOD Woigs.~ One evening, as 1 wa* on the spar deck, for my 'churn' to oome out of the cabin, I wasnNaed by the following conversation between the boat* swain's mate aod fbretopman. They were talking of one that was talking Of one that was dead, and after the boatswain had *aid s—

Well he is in heaven, poor fellow,'-—the fore* topmao replied. }•%*•, '1 wooder Bill whether I shall ever get to heaven?' 'Why nottr*iid the boatswain's mate. *Because the parson says its faith and good work* that take* the man there now I've plenty of faith to our army, and hflvoheen in action, as often aa any man of my §ge and have killed my shore of men/ •Mate, that** sufficient, I should think—1 hold my hopes on just the same claims, I've cut down twenty men in my time, and if that ain't good work I don't know what is.' •1 suppose Decatur's in heaven/ •Of course—if *0 be he wiahe* to be there, I should like to know who would keep him out, if ho was determined on km Ho, tun depend upon it, Ita wflhed right *iapin*

iTie ClQcinnati Nonpariel of Wednesday *ay*V •Yesterday morning a Wind man, over tJ yunrt of age applied to Judge Warden for a marriage licence. He will be married tcdeiy to an elderly lady of fifty winters, whom he never •awf^

The train which loft New York 00 Wednesday morning reached Troy in three hour* and fifty-five minute*. The distance we believe, is 180 miles. te »-.0$

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'Ma,* *aid a little girl to her mother, 'do men wpant to get married as much a* women do?' *P»ba, Wl&tare 00 talking aboutP 'Why ma. the |Se« who oome here are always talking about Hog married* the men don't do *0.'

t%Wy h*ve got to growinjj tKhwk Mmwsehoeets thst the fanners have by fhe garter, like pork.