Vincennes Gazette, Volume 11, Number 14, Vincennes, Knox County, 11 September 1841 — Page 1

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"truth without fear VOLUME MVINCEXNES, INDIANA, SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER, 11, 1811. NO. 11.

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The dyinr Sceptic. 1m ihi-re in yonder fancy haunted room, What mutU'red curses tremble through the gloom, When pale, and shivering, and bedewed with fearf The dying sceptic fell his hour drew near; From his parched tongue no meek, llosanna fell, Nti bright hope kindled at his faint farewell: As the last throes of death convulsed his cheek. He gna.hed, and scowled, and raised a hideous shriek, Kound'd fils eyes into a ghastly glare. Locked his white lip and alt was mute despair. The Dying1 C hriatian Clochild of darkness! see a christian Jit ! Xo horror pales his lips, or dims his eye; No fiend-shaped phantoms uf destruction start The hope lieligion pillows on his heart. When, with a faltering hand he waves adieu To all who love no well and weep so true; Meek ns an infant to the mother's breast Turns, fondly longing for its wonted rest, He pants tor where congenial spirits stray, Turns to his tiod,and sighs his soul away. .Mhxtoomiki, From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier. T II i: r. A DIE'S F A I 11 KV T. S. ARTHUR, ESQ. Come, Edward, it will never do fur you to hold back now the girls expect us both.' 'Well, I can't help it if they do,' replied Edward Morton, to his friend James Jrviii. A burnt child dreads the fire.' I'li: what will the girls think and say :;biVit you .'' 'I am sura I don't know, James. Dm let them say what they please, i prefer bearing it all to enduring what, were I to go, would be much worse t.'.e consciousness of having done wrong es, but you need'nt spend more than five dollars. That is a3 deep as 1 intend going.' Double t'uat sum won't pay the damage ;oy.'ur pocket, I know,' Edward replied, sur.lnig. But even live dollars are more i.'.an 1 would be justified in throwing away. .'!'. salary is small, and my sister needs ell 1 can spare.' 'W eii. 1 mu-t l:o an v nov ,' Ir in me outri aai j no ii'ins nave tsiiti ll. :ie.-o ii no getting oil. 1 wouul spend salary, ralaer t..an seem to mv liiuiu'v." -.,;,) We Siioual uo rust, uelorc we are ienous, voii know,' said .Morion. ou cau.'t a fiord to go any better than I can. J allies Vour ji:i for cb thes will come in an .Mr. when .carcm i :. o.i v is Lot up. :i!l:.' know, r.ither His bill h ing to that. over that uns Vour tio'r. loriv dollar.?, and ii e is noth1 am resolved not to icnd turn. resolutions are, you know. too .sir broken. Ten or iifieen dollars v.u.i not pay the co.-t, Mire upon e en.. led trrou lies iair.' It is enchanted ground, Edward, as 1 know to my sorrow,' In in responded, in a graver tone. 'But there is no escape; the svrens have sung tome, and 1 cannot keen a"v.av.' am soi'r1' or vour weakn 5s, Jann f.;r 1 know you will have eauso to regret it. .Neither you nor I can afford to come into the atmosphere of a fair.' They are fad places for shallow pock t is,' Irvin remarked, in a tone that indi cated a passing remembrance of former suffjiiugs. Indeed they are,' Edwin replied. 'I cannot myself seehow the holding of them, particularly m the way they are now too commonly conducted, can be reconciled with correct religious principles. Those who attend at the tables, seem to lose all thoughts of feeling, propriety, good man ners, and justice, in the one idea of coer cing sales at enormous prices, ot the use less articles they have exposed to view. 1 am fully resolved, as an individual, that 1 will not in any way encourage them. My opposition may be feeble, but still it shall go against them. 'Well, well, Edward, don't moralize any longer about them, or I shall get the blues Heigho! they are delightful places! Such beautiful girls! and alt so full of lifo and good humor. It is good for the heart, if not for the pocket to be in one of them.' Edward Morton was true to his limitless of character, and remained at home; and James Irvin was as true to his weakness of character, and went to the fair. He took from his trunk a live dollar note, re solving in his mind that he would take no more, and thus put it out of his power to

throw over that sum away. Hut something whispered that, after this were gone, ho might be placed in an unpleasant dilemma; and so, after a moment's hesitation, he increased the sum to twenty, which coverod the whole amount of his available neans: and his next quarter's salary would X lot become due for two months to come. Half an hour afterward he entered, with a gaily dressed young lady on his arm, a taloon brilliantly illuminated, in the most fashionable street of Philadelphia, around

which were arranged tables covered with every variety of things to tempt the eye. Dehiud each table were from one to three young ladies, than whom no experienced shop-keeper could have been more attentive, or more eager to dispose of their merchandize. For a moment the gay scene, and t'.ie crowds of richly dressed end beautiful women confused the senses of Irvin; but ho was soon called back to consciousness by the exclamation of diow beautiful!' breaking as it were, spontaneously, from the lips of the yountr lady on his arm.

He directed his attention to one of the tn hies near which thev were passing, be hind which stood the most lovely creature, it seemed to him, that he had ever seen. Her eyes, that looked right into his, were black, and sparkled like a living diamond Her fair face was beautifully relieved bv the rich color of her checks, and the lux uriant curls that floated about h?r face and neck. Yes, it is most beautiful,' said this fairy who instantly fancied the object that had attracted the attention ol irvin's compan ion. 'It is most beautiful, indeed!' Am she lifted a curiously shaped box, or some thing like it, from the table, the probable use of which never perhaps occurred to the maker, and reached it to the lady whose admiration had been so warmly ex pressed. It's only live dollars,' remarked the fairy, with a smile and a manner that scattered like chair before the wind all ideas of counting cost from Irvin's mind. A moment or two sufficed to transfer a note of the amount indicated from the pocket book of the young man to the fair hand of tiie tempter, bomething very much like a feeling of regret floated through his mind, as his eye caught the last glimpse of the soiled representative ot live silver dollars: but the next emotion was that of congratu lation that he had not limited himself to that sum; for if he had done so, he readily perceived that, before the evening's sport was over, some very awkward scenes must have occurred. 'We don't let any one pass our table,' said a lovely little creature, with blueeves and light flowing hair, stepping right in front of our hero and his lady, pointing at the same tune to a table, behind which stood, all expectant, two others, who with the first, might not inaptly have been termed 'The Graces.' The light hand on his arm, and the evi dent inclination of his companion to pause. could not be resisted. Irvin was compelled, by gentle restraint, to stand the attractions of another table at the fair, aided and abet ted by the three lovely sisters, for so they appeared to be, and the too apparent desire of the gentle maiden at his side to possess something. 'It's all for charitv you know,' remarked one of sisters, looking the young man in the face with a winning smile. Charitv co ers a multitude of sins," the s'.-coiid. aid 'J 'hi :; e- . :. season, III annua :d ,:e tiiirti :g one of the gli' is one of the swe eo '. i ol u-nrcex-nts to a lady. It is only three dollars and a half. ou will take it .f course,' she continued, handing it to his companion, who took it in the most natural 'of course' way in the world. Another five dollar note came out from its hiding place, and changed owners. We neer give change at our table, said one of the good-humored damsels, just revealing a glimpse or two of her sparkling ierv, as her rosy lips gently parted in one of the quietest smiles imaginable. Hero is a beautiful pin-cushion, at iust one dollar;' and the little velvet box, on which were tainted some flowers, was handed over, and as quickly appropriated by Irvin s very particular Inend. With ornamental box, annual, and pin cushion, Irvin and Emma Grant we might 33 well tell her name at once, for it'sawk ward telling about third persons unless names are included took a diagonal sweep across the room. In this instance, jus tice compels me to sav, the mind that di rected. the movement was Irvin's. Had Emma been left free to have indicated the way in which to walk, the table that could have heen reached in the quickest time, and by the shortest movement through space, would have certainly been next approached. But hi a fair, it is useless to try to get out of the way of temptation. Some resolute ones do promenade backwards and forwaros through the centre ot the room, look ing on, but still keeping at a respectful distance: but sooner or later, they feel the enrrent that sets irresistibly upon thej breakers, and before conscious of danger, are among them. The thought of his vanished ten dollars, which had taken their departure never to return, kept Irvin, spite of the many gentle side indications of Em ma, resolutely equi-distant from the tables. lut mortal man cannot long resist temptation while lingering near it. Our hero was just bidding good-night to his econom ical ideas, when Emma was suddenly called by a lady attending on a table near which they were passing. 'Why, how do you do, Emma? I've been looking about for you all the evening,' she said, as thev drew up. 'And how are you to-night, Mr. Irvin' she continued with animation. 'I'm glad (o see you. You've been buying I see. Well, that's clever. But I am not going to let you go away without helping me a little. I declare, 1

havn't sold any thing at all worth talking.

about!'

'I trunk 1 have done pretty well, Miss those who were so ready to court his atSarah,' Irvin ventured to say, glancing sig- tention. Having got all of his money,

nificantly at his purchases." 'Yrou don't call that pretty well, I hope? Why, that's nothing!' urged Miss Sarah. 'Remember the cause. Every dollar spent here, you know, is laid up in the treasury of Heaven.' 'I'm not quite so sure of that,' replied Irvin, laughing. Oh, you heathen you!' responded Miss Sarah. 'If I was Emma. I'd be afraid to walk home with you.' 'U, Mr. Irvin, how do you do?' exclaimed suddenly a young lady attending at the next table, who just at the moment perceived him. 'I've been frying to find a man gallant enough to buy me this beautiful pair of colored cologne bottles, and, as I live, 1 have been refused by no less than three! But I'm determined that I will not let you olf; so you might just as well do the fair thing at once. Hero they are now ain't they beauties." and she lifted two really pretty cut glass bottles from .Miss Sarah's table. 'Well, what is the price of them' asked Irvin, with forced composure. Only two and a half,' said Miss Sarah. The hand that drew out the pocket-book this time, did its cilice rather moredelib-j erately than usual. Another - note with a V on it was passed oer. 'We don't give change here,' said .Miss Sarah. 'But that is hardly fair,' Irvin found the resolution to say. It's the rule of the fair, and I dare not brent it. It is not, Nancv.'' appealing p another young lady. 'O yes, said rsancv; 'we all agreed to that before we opened.' 'W ell, what else will you have?' Miss Sarah went on. 'I've irot some lovely things on my table. Ah, this is the very article that you want, Emma.' Miss Sarah here picked up a silvermounted card case, beautifully enamelled, and handed it to Emma.' That will just be the change,' she said. 'And now won't you have something else?' she continued, looking Irvin in the face, while Emma took possession of the cardcase in the most natural way imaginable. 'Nothing more to-night, 1 believe,' re plied Irvin, in a tone intended to be gay and unconcerned. But the thought of fif teen dollars absolutely thrown away, and tho flitting memory of his unpaid tailor's bills, made the sound of his voice, spite of every cliort to prevent it, any thing but cheerful. I don't res any thing of Mr. Morion here. Where h he?' remarked the voun" lady who had compelled Irvin to purchase the cut glass cologne bottles for tier. 'I could not persuade him to come,' Irvin replied. 'Afraid of his money, 1 presume: ha. ..I' es, 1 sun nose so.' : eu uu l of people," the oung lady went on to ere ilnr don't suppose he ever gave awav UP ," thing in his life.' Sister expected him to come for her,' Emma said, 'and she will be very much iisappointed.' I d cut his acquaintance, if I were she. 'And she will, too,' said Emma warmly. Irvin interposed a word for his friend; but it was at once voted, by acclamation, that Edward Morton was a young man of narrow mind and mean spirit. '1 only wish 1 had his resolution and good sense, and were once clear of this gang of pick-pockets, sighed Irvin, m in ward bitterness of spirit. But it was not yet to be. He had a five dollar note left, and every fair saleswoman seemed to know it. Turn which way he would, with Emma on his arm, he was met with smiling invitations to buy, or jeered good-humoredlv for not havinghberal feel iugs. lie were more than a weak, vain man, to stand all these, especially as his fair companion never once came to his aid with a prompt, JSo, we have done our part to-night.' lako a chance in tins rame; said a sales-woman, catching hold of his arm, and arresting his course almost by main strength. 'A rafHe, oh, a raflle!' exclaimed Em ma, turning quickly towards a beautiful rocking chair, a pair of ottomans, and a piano stool, all richly covered with worsted needle work, and of course her attendant turned with her. 'A chance in the rocking chair for your fair friend, and two for you in the ottomans and piano stools, said the saleswoman, holding up a paper containing the names of the chance-holders. 'That is the rule to-night for every gentleman and lady.' 'What are the chances?' asked Irvin. 'Only two dollars in the rocking-chair, and a dollar and a half each in the piano stools and ottomans. Just five dollars.Shall I put down your names?' Emma Crant, replied Irvin s friend. not wailing for her companion's reply. 'And your name? said the woman, lookng him in the face. 'James Irvin,' replied the young man mechanically. 'les, very well. 1 his rifnc will tawe place en Friday evening.' Irvin had now a talismamc iorm ol words, whenever asked to buy. 'I have laid out all my money, caused very importunity to cease instantly.

Though relieved at this, ho could not but

J perceive and feel the changed manners of smiles and winning words would have been lost on him, and but few therefore were thrown away on so unpromising an object. Emma, too, seeing that she had little more to hope for, soon proposed to return home; and, glad to escape from a place that had lost to him all attractions, Irvin bade it good-night, and turned away. After Irvin had left Morton, in the early part of the evening, the latter went to his trunk, and taking from thence some mon ev, put on his hat and walked out. The quickness of his step indicated that he was no: bent on a stroll, simply for relaxation after the business of the day. Twenty minutes' walk brought him to the door of a small house in the suburbs, which he en tered without knocking 'Good evening, Ellen,' he said to a pale and delicate looking woman, who sat sew ... ing at l small table. Good evening, brother Edward,' responded the woman, rising, with a rmile of pleasure cn her face. 'How do you feel to-night, Ellen'?' asked her brother, kindly. 'Well, J don't know, Edward, that I fee! any better, but I don't think I am any worse,' she said, with an effort to smile cheerfully. 'I am afraid, sister, you sit too long at your needle. 'Perhaps I do. But then. Edward, you know that I cannot be idle.' 'Yes, I know that, Ellen; you have need of the toil of many more hours than you can give. But you must spare yourself a iltle more, if possible.' 4here was a sadness in the young man s tone that touched the heart of his sister. He had ever been to her a kind brother, and she loved him with a pure, unselfish, sisterly afTection. 1: moved her feelings with unusual tenderness, whenever he seemed to.be borne down by a consciousness of her hard lot, without the pow er of relieving it fully. A young widow, poor, in ill health, and with two small children, her condition, it may readily be imagined, was one of many privations and many hard trials. Her brother w as receivinga salary of but four hundred dollars, as clerk and salesman in a retail dry goods store. Out of this he paid one hundred and f.ftv dollars for his boarding and his clothes; washing, and a few other necessaries, took cn equal sum. The balance of one hun dred dollars he regularly handed over to his sister, in small sums, as he received it from his employer. Her needle supplied her with all else she received. The silence that followed the young man's last remark was interrupted by his saying, as he handed her some money, Here are ten dollars for you, Ellen, and I wish, in my heart, they were one hundred.' 'You are very kind to me, brother,' was the sister's ordy remark, as she received the money; but the peculiar tone in which the brief words wcro uttered, had in it an expression of deep gratitude that nospoken language could have conveyed. '1 hope I shall be able to do better for you one of these days,' he replied. '1 must get a higher salary before long, and then 1 will rent a house so near the store that I can live with you, and make you a great deal more comfortable than you are now.' I will try and be contented as things are, and so must you, Edward. How much worse off I might be, than I am! Suppose I had no brother to care for me?' And the tears came into the eyes of the sister as she felt a momentary pang at the idea, called up so vividly Yes, sister, it is better, of course, to make the best of our condition, be it as it may,' replied Edward with a deep in spiration. 'Have you as much work as you can do?' he added, in a changed tone. 'No, not such as is profitable. Mrs Mason has a good deal of sewing for me; but she has been so much taken up with this fair fcr the last two or three weeks that she could not find time to get it ready. And Mrs. Walker is in the same way. I have lost, too, three whole days from the common sewing which I had on hand, in working the body of a child's slip for Mr. Mason to present to the fair.' Not for nothing I hope?' said the broth er, in a tone of surprise. Yes, for nothing. Mrs. Mason throws a good deal in my v.'ay, and when she ssked me to do it, I could not refuse.' 'Well, indeed, Ellen, that is hard. It is nothing less or more, than Mrs. Mason taking the bread out of your children's moutli6.' It ha3 come pretty near to that,' the sister said with a sigh; 'for I was put back so much with the slip, that I could not get home any work until after we had eaten every morsel of food in the house. 1 have been hard put to it, this week, Edward.' 'Indeed, indeed, that is too bad. This fair, I believe, is to pay for cushioning all the pews in Mr. 's church, and nutting new hangings about the pulpit. And to do this, the widow and the orphan must be robbed of their mite; and that too, in the name of charitv!' It does seem a little hard,' Ellen re marked. 'But, then, people don't think. They are carried away by show and ex citement-

'But they ought to think; especially

when they profess to be acting from un selfish and charitable motives. As far as I can see into them, these fairs are, in general, conducted upon wrong principles; and I am almost prepared to say that they nave their foundation, also, in wrong prin ciples. The first idta, in reference to a fair, is the want of money for a specific purpose. The second idea is, that an unwillingness exists on the part of the publio to give the required sum. The next is, that an unwilling publio may and shall be wheedled out of Ave hundred, or two or three thousand dollars, in the name of charity. And then the whole machine ry of a fair is set in motion, while the false notion, that the end sanctifies the means, seems to take full possession of all engaged in putting it into operation. Every article, and every form of persuasion, are resorted to, in inducing visiters to pur chase worthless trifles, at enormous prices. Money is taken from individuals, who positively declaro that they are unable to spare it, but who lack the firmness to re fuse to buy when pressed and persuaded on all sides. All this is wron? in princi ple. True charity includes justice to every one. 'And, what is woree than all,' added Ellen, 'these things are done in the name of religion.' 'Yes, sister, that is truly its worst fea ture. Ministers ot the gospel, too, are often seen encouraging and giving them their countenance; forgetful that any departure from justice is a departure from religious principle. I never attended but one fair; and then I w as weak enough to throw away five dollars, because I was eated with, ironically, for being miserly. i'hose five dollars, sister, you stood much in need of; and I had intended them for you. But I suffered the widow's and the orphan's elender portion to be taken from me, and given towards buving a splendid organ for a splendid church. How wrong! low wrong! I wounld'n think of that any more, Edward,' said Ir.s sister kindly; 'it always seems to worry you. 'i es, it does worry me, Ellen; but then iow can I help thinking about it? In fact, such thoughts will come into ray mind, do what I will to keep them away. Still, I know that it is for me to act right, myself, in the present, without being disturbed at the errors and wrong doings of others. And this 1 am ever trying to do, but have not yet learned the happy art.' Gradually Ellen led off the conversation from the fair, and the brother andsi6tei spent an hour together in pleasant communion. 1 he poor need not be un happy. Let them cultivate gentle aflVc tions, while they live daily in the dis charge of every duty, and peace will brood like an angel over them. None but the evil need be miserable; and, in fact none but they who permit something of evil to rule in iheir minds, be their condition in life what it may, are discontented. It was perhaps an hour after Edward Morton had returned home, that Irvin, his room-mate came in. 'So you have passed through the trial, Jimes,' said the former smiling, 'Yes, and have acted like a fool as I am!' he replied, throwing his hat upon the table whith an impatient and angry gesture. 'I suppose your pocket is ten dollars lighter than it was?' 'Ten? Yes, and double that suml' 'It can't be possible, James?' said his friend in surprise. 'Yes, it is possible, though! Am I not a most consummate fool?" Well, really, James, I am sorry you have thus suffered yourself to be robbed. for I can call it by no milder name, of money, which, in fact, was not your own. 'Robbed did you say? Yee, that is just what it is; or rather the term should be swindled. Why, they were like so many hawks after me; and Emma Grant seemed to think I had nothing to do, but to buy her every foolish thing in the room. I'm sick of her, any how.' It's all over now, and I hope it will be a lesson to you,' Edward remarked. 4Bul I would'nt make myself any more unhappy about it. 'How can I help being unhappy, do you think? Can I forget that edd Buck ram will be down upon me with his bill befon- a month passes over, and that I owe four weeks' boarding, which must be paid, and which 1 had intended to pay this very mghv? Aral ll 1 were to try the trick of forgctfulness, I would soon be mused from such a dream. No no, The thing is done past recall, and now must come tho penalty.' 'Well, I'm sorry for you, Jam, but I cannot help you any. Don't say that, Edward. You nmsi stand by me, for something in this tight place. 'At least, yow must spare me ten dollars to give to the landlady.' Indeed I cannot. James. I paid up for is. my board this eveninsr, and l nad out twelve dollars left. Ten of this I carried to my sister, and I have but two dollars with which to pay my wash-woman. So. you see, that L cannot neip ) ou m me least.' . . I wish vour sister had the twenty d( liars I threw away to-night! Then it i.i .1. cr.mp nnii. 1 couid bear the trouble which I know I shall have, if the WOUt u uu ' i " " -

money spent were going to bo any use. But what do I care about the cushions and curtains for old Mr. 's church?' After a few moments' silence, Irvin drew a long breath, and said, as he rose up and began to pace the room baokwards and forwards, Well, I hare one hope left, that I had forgotten. Ah indeed! And what is that, James?' inquired his friend. 4Why, I've got two chancea in a raffle to be had on next Friday night. If either of them wins, it may help me a little. If both, I shall get back my twenty dollars. Much as I condemn gambling in any shape, remarked Morton, 'and still more so when done in the name of religion and charity, I hope you may be successful.' 'You cannot hope so moro than I do,' tighed the young man. Friday evening toon came round, and Irvin prepared to go to the raflle. You intend calling for Emma Grant,

do you no;?' asked his friend Morton. 'No I do not,' Irvin icplied, in a positive tone. 'Why. did'nt you tell me that you had had take n a chance fur her in a great rockincchair?' 'Yes I did. But the may co and see about it herself, unless she can find some bigger fuol than I am to go with her. If I were to win any thing, she would suppose, as a matter of course, that it was for her, and perhaps order it sent home at once. O no! As I told vou before. I am done with her.' Being now all ready, our vouni stiffsrer wended his way to the brilliantly lighted hall, in Chcscut street, and minded with the beauty and fashion there. Per haps each one present was in some way interested in the raffles, particular and general, to be held there during the even ing, l ney had bought chances in the name of charily, and now each one was eager to know what was to be the rewaid of such a good deed. I am sure I shall get something hand some, whispered a lady to her husband, upon whose arm she was leaning. And why do you think so? he inquir ed. O, because I have done so much for the fair, she replied. 'I worked a whole month, and stood at one of the tables all through. I think I ovght to have something worth while drawing.' 'So you think providence will favor you fur your good deeds?' 'I don t think it would be any more than fiir,' the lady replied in sober earn estness. Others no doubt thought, and felt as ahe, but were more guarded in expression. At last the gambling commenced. The lot of things in which Irvin was in terested went off first. The arm chair sson found an owner. It was a young lady who had been among the foremost in gitting up the fair. She did not seem at all surprised at her good fortone. But there was many a sneering and many a deprecating word thrown out at her expense. The ottomans came next. A brief pause, and the name of Jame Irvin was announced as the fortunate drawer of these prizes. 'Scared but not hurt!' murmured Irvm to himself in an extacy of pleasure. l shall come out yd! 'Who is he? where is he? exclaimed several voice.'. And Irvin stepped forward. rou'll put it up, of course, fur the benefit of the fair, said one young ladv, taking hold of his aim. 'Of course he will,' said sno:htr 'Gentlemen always do that. You would'nt take such splendid otto mans from the fair for the paltry sum of a dollar and a half, chimed in another. 'Of course he will,' exclaimed a fourth 'he is too much of a man for that. I know by the very expression of his countenance that he will give them back to the fair. Wont you?' Certainly! certainly! Of course I will? What use would the gaudy things be to me? 1 give them back to the fair!' said Irvin with as good a grace as possible, backing out from his advance position, and again mingling with the crowd. 'Why Mr. lrviu,' exclaimed a lady im mediately in front of whom he found him self standing, 'sister Emma is waiting at home for you! She wnl be dreadfully disappointed. She wanted to come tonight above all things, and fully expected you.' I am sorry for it,' the young man replied, bowing, bul it i too late to help it.' 'Sister will never forgive you for this,' resumed the lady. Irvin again bowed, and withdrew from the presence of Miss Grant, muttering to himself, 'then we will be even for I never intend forgiving her.' The piano stool was drawn by another young man, when the same scene of coercion was gone through, and he compelled to relinquish it to the fair, to be raffled for again. Neatly sick at heart, Irvin precipitately retired, and left the fair gamblers to finish their evening' game in their own most approved way. And it wa really a painful exhibition of the folly of poor human nature. Whoe?er drew a prize of any consequence (Concluded cn fourth pag )