The Wabash Courier, Volume 17, Number 42, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 June 1849 — Page 1

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rUJBUSHSD EVBfeV SATURDAY MTp5R^|.

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The muses winged their wsy to earth, Wrapped in a silvery cloud, And, pawing at ray household hdlrtk,

Smiled on me as they bowed.

And narcr beamed there on the eight, And ne'er did poet'# pencil trace, A vision half so strangely bright.

Of Nature's glorious sheen.

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Prom the ITomr Journal. TIIE MIOSES.

Nor half so full of heavenly grace.

For they had fed on angel's food, On high Parnassus' holy hill And they had bathed them in the flood

Of Helicon, so pare and still.

I gazed with joy, with wondrous joy Upon this vision of delight Fearful each moment would destroy

The fleeting image from my sight.

When quickly on my listening ear. There burst a harmony of sound, Tike those blest tones we only hear

When treading upon holy ground.

I knelt me down—in whispered tone, 1 prayed that they might (feign to shower One drop from hallowed Helicon,

To be my blessed earthly dower.

And more I know not—for there stole A dreamy stillness o'er my soul, And when I oped my eyes to dsy, The vision ail had passed away The boon was still denied to me, The boon 1 prayed for—poesy.

The poet's fate is not my fa te, 1 do not hear the sound k« hears I've entered no Blysian gate

Hut earthly thoughts snd hopes and fears Cling like a shroud unto my form No rainbow bright to me appears— I ouly see the cloud and storm.

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TUB VOICE OF SUMMER. BV JOHN M. EVANS. There is a voice whose whisperings speak

When dreamy night winds sigh, Whoso »weet toned accents gently fall Like dew drops from the sky.

A voice that blends with woodland notes, As fades the twilight gray, When through the dewy mist that floats,

Faint steals the god of day.

Upon each passing breeze 'tis borne. From islands fair and green, That sparkle ncath the golden light

From sunny climes and southern shores, Where winter ne'er abidos, This spirit voice, on perfumed wings, iu silent beauty glides.

*Tis sweet to feel its warm young breath Touch light the care-worn brow, As floating far o'er forests wide,

It kisses branch and bough.

It's gentle call now life imparts, As soft the accents steal While rippling streamlets echo back,

The throbbing Joy they feel.

At ihe recent anniversary meeting of the Boston Seamen's Friend Society, last week, the following beautiful hymn was sung:

When the lonely waich we keep k**1' Si font on the mighty deep— While the boisterous surges hoarse

Bear us darkly on our course. Eye that never slumbers! shed Holy influence on our bead!

When the Sabbath's peaceful ray *, ,, O'er the ocean's breath doth ploy, Though no throngs assemble there,

No sweet church bell warns to prayer, Spirit! let thy presence be Sabbath to the muttering sea!

When the ragiftg billows dark Thundering toss otir threatened bark, Thou, who on the whitening wave DWat the week disciple save—

Thou who hear^t «a wfaan w* pray, Jesus! Savior! be our stay

"When in foreign lands we roam, Far from kindred and from home,

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Ft ranger's eyes our conduct vipw, Henthen bands ear (tops pursue, I*t our conversation be "k

Fitting those who follow TlMtel

I S E A N E O S

Mother, don't you wish we had the tree of evil in the garden •Why, Josh, you black sarpint, what do you mean t* 'As money is tfitfirbdt'of all evil»lf we had the tree couldn't we have slathers of change all the timet* •Dod, you pesky sarpint, you're gettin' too smart entirely that's what comes of sending boys to mecadamies.'

Brown and his wife were walking out last evening, when thtfy meta man who had had the misfortune to loee a "peeper." .. "Why f* that man like an abolitionist!" said Brown.

Mr*. Brown "didn't know, hot rather

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—it is becauseheiVw of one eye, dear Mrs Brown fainted.

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'THE WAY HE WON HER Or Life among the Boston Aristocracy* t'H "The mstter ftr beauty

Should be MAN—not a MONEY CHEST.*' It was a cold winter night, and the wind whistled shrilly through the bare limbs of the giant trees that lined the wall. The ground white with snow, upon whose surface the light of the moon fell with dazzling splendor, studding the incrusted ground with brilliant diamonds. As the old south clock struck nine* a young man wrapped in his cloak, sought the shade of the large trees in the parfc/rom whence he watched the coming of the numerous carriage loads of gaily dressed people of both sexes, who entered one of the princely houses on Beacon street. Through the richly stained glass windows, the gorgeous light issued in a steady flood accompanied by the thrilling tones of music from a full band the house, illuminated at every point, seemed crowded by gay and happy spirits* The stranger still contemplated the scene—his cloak, which until now had developed the lower part of his features, had fallen, dis«. covering a face of manly beauty—a full dark eye, with arching brows and short curling hair, as black as the raven's plumage, set off to advantage his Grecian style of feature—a becoming moustache curled about his mouth, giving a decidedly classic appearance ^to the whole face. The naval button on his cap showed that he belonged to that branch of our national defence. "Shall I enter," said he thoughtfully to himself, "and feast ray eyes on charms I never can possess? Hard (ate, that 1 should be so bound to the iron chains of poverty—yet lama man, and claim a soul as noble as the best of them. We will see," and crossing over to the gay scene he entered he hall.— He cast off his over shoes, handed his cloak and cap to a servant, and unannounced, mingled.with the beauty and fashion that thronged the rooms. Gradually making his way through the crowd, he sought a group, in the center of which stood a bright and beautiful being, the queen in loveliness of that brilliant assembly. The bloods of the west end flocked about her, seeking for an approving glance from those dreamy blue eyes half abstracted, she answered or spoke upon the topics of conversation with apparent interest. Suddenly she started and blushed deeply, dropped a "half courtsey," in token of recognition to some one without the group. Her eyes, no longer languid, now sparkled with animation, and as our naval friend entered the group about her, she laid her tiny gloved hand in his, say* ing— '•Welcome, Ferris—we had feared that your sailing orders had taken you to sea this bleak weather." •'We should not have lifted anchor without first paying tribute to our queen," was the gallant reply.

A titter ran through the circle of exclusives at his appcarance among them, but when the lady approved, there was no room for complaint.

The gay scenes of the night wore on several times had Ferris Harvard completely put at fault the shallow-brained fops aruund him, placing them in any thing but an enviable light.

Ferris Harvard was a lieutenant in the navy, and depended entirely upon his pay as an officer to support a widowed mother and a young sister, to both of whom he was devotedly attached. His father was a self made man—had onee beon a successful merchant, who sailed and freighted some of the heaviest tonned vessels that left the port at Boston, but misfortune and sickness overtook him, and he sunk in the grave, leaving hi&only son to protect his mother and sister from the wants and ills of life. Ferris had a good education, and having entered the navy a midshipman, was raised to a lieutenancy, by reason of his superior acquirements and good conduct. His profession led him to all parts of the world, and he had carefully improved his advantages-—though, constrained by reason of limited means, to the practice of rigid economy.

He had met with the only daughter of Harris, Howell, one of the wealthiest citizens of Boston, at a fete given on board a ship to which he belonged, and had immediately become enamoured of her* but h# wel|. knew in his own heart the difference of their fortunes formed a barrier to his wishes. Ho had been a casual visiter for several months subsequent to tho time our story commences, at the house of the Howeff family, "I mast think of her no moret"«rnd F. to himself. "If sneered at by her friends for offering her common civilities, with what Contempt would her austere parents receive a proposition for her hand, from one so poor and unknown!0

Harris Howell was indeed a stern old man, and yet he was said to be kind to tho poor, giving freely of his bounty to the relief of the needy. Still he was a strange man he seldom spoke to those around him, vet he wipced the warmest love for his only child, and Anno, too, loved her father with an ardent affection. His delight was to pore over his library, living, as it were, in the fellowship of the old philosophers. On several occasions when Ferris was. at his house engaged in conversation with Anne, he had observed the old man's eyes bent sternly upon him, and hto heart would sink within him, and he would awake to the reality of is situation. 'r

Ferris was otte ev^filrig icm Beacon street, at the house ef Mr. Howell* where, in spite of the cold reception he received from others, he enjoyed himself in the bettef that Anne was not Indifferent to his regvrd. He hid been

N0 42. feewStHSnUB HAUTE, IND., JDSE.16,.1849.

relating to her, at her request, his experience with different Rational characters. with whom he had met, speaking of tneir peculiarities, and describing various scene effects of different countries. Anne sat near a sweet geranium whose leaves she was industriously engaged in destroying. Perrls bending close to her ear said: "Anne will you pluck me that rose as a token of affection?—ydu must know how ardent mine is for you—or stop, dearest, behind it blows the candytuft. You know the mystic language of both, will you choose and give me one?"

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"Hush, tuVsftf Ferris,"** sale! the blushing and trembling girl, plucking and handing him the rose.

This passed when the attention of the company was drawn to some engaged object.^' Never before had Ferris received^ any token of Antte's love save from her tell-tale eyes. The flower was placed next to his heart, and ho left the apartment. He had proceeded but a few steps from the house when he was accosted by a poor mendicant, clothed in rags, who was exposed at that late hour of the night to the inclemency of the season. "Pray sir," said the beggar to Ferris, can you give me a trifle? I am nearly starved and chilled through by the night a'r*" ...

Ferris, after a fewa^ohiieii!ts"tcoliversation with the beggar, for he had not the heart to turn away from the sufferings of a fellow creature, and handing him a purse containing some five or six dollars, and urged him to seek immediate shelter and food. The beggar blessed him and passed on.

A few nights subsequent to this occurrence he was again at her father's house. Mrsv Howell. Anne's mother, received him us she did most of her vis* iters with a somewhat constrained and distant welcome. Being a woman of no great conversational powers, she always retired early,conducting her intercourse with society in the most forrttfetl manner. Ferris was much surprised that Mr. Howell had taken no particular notice of his intimacy in his house, for he seldom saw him, and when he could the old man's eye bent sternly upon him, in anything but a friendly and inviting spirit, jln this dilemma he was at a loss what "$)urse to pursue, since Anne's acknowledgment of her affection for him and now he had succeeded in this, he was equally distant from the goal of his happiness, for his better judgment told him that the consent of her parents could not be obtained. On this occasion he had taken leave as Usual, when he was met by the beggar of the previous evening, who again solicited alms, declaring that he could find no one else to assist him, and that the money he had bestowed upon him. had been expended for food and rent for a miserable cellar where he had lodged.

Again Ferris put a purse in the poor man's hand, and at the same time telling him that he was himself poor and constrained to the practice of rigid economy in the support of those dependent upon him. He left the beggar and went on his way happy in having contributed to the alleviation of human suffering.

Not long subsequent, Ferris called one evening at the house of Mr. Howell, and fortunately found Anne and her father alone, the former engaged upon a piece of embroidery of a new pattern, and the latter poring over a volume of ancient philosophy. On his entrance the old gentleman took no farther apparent notice of him than a slight inclination of the head, and a "good evening sir." He took a chair by Anne's side, and told her of his love In low but ardent terms, begging permission to speak to her father on the subject. "Oh, he will not hear a word of the matter, I know," said the sorrowing girl. "No longer ago than yesterday he spoke to me relative to a connection with Mr. Reed. I never can love but one man," said the beauty, giving him her hand.

Ferris could bear this suspense no longer. In fact the hint relative to her alliance with another spurred him to acdon. He proceeded to that part of the room where Mr. Howell sat. and after a few introductory remarks, #aid: "You have doubtless observed sir, my intimacy in your family for more than a y«*r past, rrom thef»r ihnt you did not object to my attentions to your daughter, 1 hftve be*n led to hope that it might not be altogether against your wishes. May I ask, sir, with due respect, yoar opinion in this mattef?" "I have often seen you here," replied Mr. Howell, and have no reason to object to your visits, sir.** ^"Indeed sir, yott are very kind, I have neither fortune or rank to offer your daughter, but stilt, emboldened by love, I ask you for her hand.**

The old man laid by his bodk, and removed hi« spectacles, asked— "Does the young lady sanction this request?" 'r*

"She does,"

"And you %*»Your daughter*® band." *»It isyoor*Pr

proved you? No sir, out of Anne's many suits, from the wealthiest and highest in society, I long since selected vyu as one in whom I could feel confidence. Tho world calls me a cold calculating man perhaps I am so but I have a duty to perform^lo Him who intrusted me with the happiness of this blessed child 1 have endeavored to perform that trust faithfully—the dictates of pride may have been Counterbalanced by a desire for my daughter's happiness. I chose you first-nshe has since voluntarily done so. I know ypur life and habits, your means and pros-pects-—you need tell me nothing. With your wife, you reeeive an ample f«rtuno the dutiful son and affectionate brother cannot but make a good husband. But stay, I will be with you in a aj^ ^e left the Ipvers togeth-

"The story of your marriage with Reed was only to try your heart then, and thicken the plot, said Ferris to the blushing girl.

At this moment the room door opened, and the beggar whom Ferris had twice before relieved, entered, and stepping up to Ferris,solicited charity. Anne recoiled at first at the dejected appearance, and poverty-stricken looks of the intruder, while Ferris asked in astonishment, how he gained entrance into the house. In a moment the figure rose to a stately height, and casting off the disguise it had worn, discovered the person of Anne's father, Mr. Howell.

Tho astonishment of the lovers can hardly be conceived. I determined, said the father addressing Ferris, after I had otherwise proVed your character to test one virtue, which of all others is the greatest?—charity!— had you failed in.that, you would have also failed with me in this purpose of marriage. You were weighed in the balance'j^i%not found wanting. Here sir, is.your first purse, it contained six dollars when you gave it to the beggar —it now contains a check for six thousand and here js your second, that contained five dollars, which it also multiplied by thousands. 1o "Nay," said the old man, as Ferris was about to object to it, there is 110 need of explanation—it was a fdir transaction.'*

This was of course all a mystery to Anne, but when explained, added to her love for her future nusband. rH |V«4« a a

A writer in the .Cincinnati Despatch says: i' "There is no flower so much abused in its culture as this one. it should 1e remembered that the Dahlia is a Fall (lower, and in subverting their nature by early propogating is not only injudicious but improper. To plant them early,if the season proves wet, may induce them to flower, but to expect them to developc their true character is impossible therefore, the plants become exhausted before their season, producing generally either single or semidouble flowers, thus depriving the plant of showing its true characteristic beauty not only this but tho tubers are weakened for the next season. When the Dahlia sprouts without artificial means and is planted out in June, the flowers will not probably appear before August, and then we see them to perfection, both in color and symmetry of form, so indispensable to a fine floweri How often is the Florist blamed for ndV Selling plants corresponding to the catalogue this will arise from being forced too early for sale, or over propagated, while others assCrt that the Dahlia degenerates the latter is not tho case when properly managed. The plan pursued by the Florist is one causo of their not doing better, the next is, persons cultivating their Fall flowering plants should exchange roots every three years with their friends, for the Dahlia does not like to be confined to the same soil more than three years nor does the tulip, or ftny florist flower. I have known Florists to send their tulips fifty miles to be planted for two years, while others havo removed the soil from their beds altogether. The practical farmer finds it necessary to insure a good crop of corn, to exchange his seed with others at a distance this he nods as necessary as rotation in crops, a plan that should be observed by all cultivators, and so should Dahlia growers, if their object be a fine display of flowers In thalt* proper noftson.

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Ferris' sprang in astonishment to his feet, saying: W "I hardly know how to receive^crar kindness, my dear sir, I bad looked for different treatment.0 "Listen young man," said theikther, «*d0 you tniflk 1 should have allowed you to become intimate In my fatnily without first knowing rour character? Do you think 1 should have given yea this precious (and here placing her hand in Fcttir) te you, before had

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Kebpino Lemons Frss^,-»—1 have been a housekeeper for some years, ar.d never, till lately, have I been able to keep lemons fresh and juicy for any length of time. But, with all my care now^ in this closet, now in that now wrappod in paper, nut? packed in bran, now in a cool place, now in a dry one—tbey would dry up and became as hard as wood. Of )ate, however, I have preserved them perfectly fresh, three months in summer, by placing them in a closely covered jar or pot kept in the ice house. Each lemon i«, wrapped in a paper, (perhaps they would do as well without,) bat opened and wiped once in ten or twelve days, then covered again with dry ptper and then put back into the jar or earthen*vessel on the ice .--American Agriculturist* rH

Wh»it are you doing them, Jane "Why, pa, I'm- going to dye my doll** pinafore red.11 "But what have you to dye it withf*Beet, pa." "Beer!

aid I'though* that 1"—''Here, Susan, take this child 10 bed/V

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"Taking the Starch Oat of 'Em." A lot of idlers stood upon the end of a pier which ran out into the Hudson riwer, in one of the small towns near Albany, a few daya ego, amusing themselves with hurling stones into the broad stream, each vieing wkh the other in die endeavor to pitch a missile at the fartherest distance from the shore, whan a tall, rugged built Verrrtonter direct from the green hills, suddenly made his appearance in their midst, and for awhile remained a quiet observer of their movements.

He was a brawnyy -strong-looking Yankee, and was very decently clad.— Tho efforts of the little party had been exhibited over and over again, when the stranger quietly picked up half a brick which lay near him, and giving it a jerk, it fell into the water a long way beyond the line which had as yet been reached by the foremost of the crowd. At the conclusion of this feat a loud "bravo!" went up from half-a-dozen voices around him.

It was a Cold, clear day in October, and the men, determined not to be outdone, renewed their attempts but the Vermonter, without saying a syllable to any one, continued to pitch the pebbles far into the stream, which seemed to annoy one of them, in a green jacket, the apparent leader of the gang, who declared that he Would'at be beaten by a "feller right staright out of the woods and sidling up to the stranger he determined to make his acquaintance-. "Where do you come from, neighbor?" inquired the other. "Me? Wal, I hail from Vermont, jes now, friend."

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"llaint been in these parts long, I reckinl" "Wal—no. Not exactly ycre—but up and down sorter." "Yes—so 1 *sposfe. "Yaas," continued the greeli 'uncarelessly, and seizing a big billet of wood he, twirled it over his head, and nit landed several rods from the shore, in the water* "You've a little strength in your arms, neighbor.'.'?!!• irRni? 1 at^i "Some 'pum'klns* in them fltppers stranger. Up in Our town, more a munth ago, 1 drive them are knuckles rite strut thro! a bo^ard, moreen a ,nj|\qh 'naff thick!" "Haw—bawl" shouted his hearers, the man in the green coat laughing loudest. "May be you dan'tb'lieve it.'' "Not much," answered the crowd. "Wo nint very green, down here ih Yofkr—tee aint," said the fellow iu the green jacket "we've been about you see." "Wal, jes, look vuu yere friend." contfnued tlie Vermonter. in the most plausible manner "up in aour country, we've a puny big river, considerin—ln,yun river it's called, and may be you've beam on iu Wal, I hove a man clean across that river t'other day, and he came down fair and square on t'other side." V/«».h iyiirHa, ha, ha!" yelled his auditors. '"Wal, naew, yen may laff, but I kin deu it agin." "Do what," said green jacket, quickly. "I can take and he*ve you across thai river yonder»jest like open and shei!"' "Bet you ten dollars of it." "Done!" said the Yankee and drawing forth an (upon a broken down east bank) he, covered tho bragget's shin plaster. "Kin veu swim, feller?"

Like" a duck," *aid green jacket— and without further parley the Vermonter seized the knowing Yorker stoutly by the nape of tho neck and the sentif his pants, jerked hiin from his foothold, and with almost superhuman effort, dashed the bully hoels over head from the dock, somoten yards out in the Hudson river.

A terrific shout rang through the crowd, as he floundered into the water, and amidst the joers and screams of his companions the ducked bully put back to the shore and scrambled tip the bank, half frozen, by thissudden and involuntary cold b*Uh. "I'll take that ten spot, if yow please, said the shivering loafer, advancing rapidly to the stake holders. We'll show you how wo do things down here in York"—and the fellow claimed the twenty dollars. "Wal, I reckun you wunt take no tan spot jest yit, cap'n." "Why!1*You've lost the beuu "Notedzactiy. I didn't calkvlote on deuin' it the fust time*—but I tell yeu 1 kin deu it" and again In spite of the loafer's utmost efforts to escape him, he ieiaed him by tho scruff and the seat of his ovcrhalls, and pitched him tit roe yards further vuto the rivor than upon the first trial!

Again the bully returned amid the shouts of hf* mates, who enjoyed the sport immensely.

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"Third time never fails," said th# Yankee, stripping off bis coat, "I kin deu it I tell ye." "Hold on!" said the almost petrified victim—*

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"And 1 wilt 'deu it—-ef I try till to* morrow morninV* *•'*$ **1 give It up?** shtSUted tfie'aiBfffcffcr between Ws teeth, which now chattered like a mad badfferV-^ take the money,"

The "Vermonter very coolly pocketed the ten spot, atfd as he turned away remarked .KM "We aim much acquainted with fm folks daoun here'n York, but we *ome times take the starch aom of 'em tip our way—snd p'raps veu wum try it on tu strangers agin. 1 reck'n |eti wunt,'* he continued, and putting on abroad grin of good humor, be left the company t* their reflections-

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King Solomon's Blacksmiths And it came to pass when Solomon, the son of David, had finished his temple of Jerusalem, that he called unto him the chief architects, the head artificers. and cunning workers in silver and gold, and in ivory, At\d in stone—yea, all who had aided in rearing the temple of this Lord, and said uhto tndrrt, "sit ve down at my table I havo prepared a feast for all my chief artificers. 5 Stretch forth your hands, therefore, and eat and drink and be merry. Is not the laborer worthy of his hire? Is nottl^e-skillful artificer dfeservihg of his liorrtJfHl**Wu2fcle not the ox that treadeth out the corn."

And when Solomon and the chief workmen were seated, and the fatness of the land and the oil thereof were set upon the table, there came one who knocked loudly ftt the door, and forced himself even into the ffestal chamber. Then Solomon the King was wroth, and said, "What manner of man art thou

And the man answered and said— "When men wish to honor me, they rail me Son of the Forge but when they wish to mock me, they call me blacksmith and seeing tl^at the toil of working in fire Covers me with sweat and smut, the latter hame, O King, is not inapt and in truth thy servant desires no better." "But," said Solomon, "why came you thus rudely and unbidden to the feast— where none but the c11 iof ariificers_of

Attd he said, "The blacksmith." .1. And he said to the chief of the workers in Wood, "Who made the tools with which you hewed the trees on Lebanon, and formed them into pillars and roof of the temple ,0

And he said, "The blacksmith." Then said he to the artificer in gold and ivory, "Who makes your instruments by which you Work beautiful things ftr my lord the King

And he said, "The blacksmith." "Enough, enough, good fellow," said Solomon, "thou hast proved that I invited thee, and thou art all men's father in art. Go wash the smut of the forge from thy face, and come and sit at thy right hund. Tho chiefs of my workmen are but men—thou art more." So it happened at the feast of Solomon, and the blacksmith's have been honored-ever since.—London Magazine*tu A bold and succewifttJ stroke for a Ilusbnitfl.

A worthy farmer, living in a country vrllage in Frdnce, and a widower, was recently aroused at midnight by the barking of a dog. On endeavoring to quiet the dog* he found him unusually agitated, whereupon the farmer took his gun and w^nt out to look for the causo. All at once he saw a horrid phantom risa up behind the hedge clothed in a white sheet.' He turned qiiite pale and his limbs shook with dismayi-^At length he picked op sufficient courage to ejaculate— "If you are from heaven, speak! Jf from the devil,'vanish "Wretch I" exclaimed the phantom, "T afn your deceased wife, come from the grave to wartt'yot* not to marry Marie -r 10 whom you &re making love. She is uttWorthy

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temple are invited 'J' "Please ye, my LorJ, fcarne rudely," replied the man, "because thy servant obliged me to force my way but I came not unbidden, Wns it not proclaimed that the chieff workmen of the temple were invited to dine with the King of Israel Hjs- ptemdkV'

Then ho who darved the cherubim said: "This fellow is no sculptor." and and he who inlaid the roof with pure gold said "Neither is he a workman in fine metals." And he who raised the walls said "He is not a cutter of stone." And he who made the roof cried out: "He is not cunning in cedar wood, neither knoweth he the mystery of uniting strange pieces of timber together." ,|Then said Solomon, ."What hast thou to say. Son of the Forge, why I should not order thee to be plucked by the beard, scourged with a scourge, and stoned to dedth frith stones

And when the Son of the Forge heard this, he was in no sort dismayed, but advancing to the tabic, snatched up and swallowed a cup of \Vitte, ind said, "O King, 4ive forever! Tho chief men of the Workers in wood,and gold, and stone, have said that 1 am not one of thdrrt, and they h?tve said truly. I am their superior before they lived was 1 created. I am their master, and they are all my servants." And he turned him around, anu said to the chief of the carvers in stone, "Who made the tools with which you carve?"

And ho said. "The blacksmith. 't And he said to the chief of thi masons, "Who made the chisels with which the stones of the temple, were squared 2,"

my bed The

only woman to succeed me is Henrietta B"""" Marry her, or persecution and eternal lormfsnt shall be your portion."

This address from the goblin, instead of dismaying the farmer, restored his courage. He accordingly rUshed onhis ghastly visitor, and stripping tiff the sheet discovered the frtlr Henrietta looking excessively foolish. It is said that th® farmer, admitingthe girl's trick, had the bans published for His with h«r. -L

marriage

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Sep«R88eAi'ioJ».-s-Tho chaplain4* hoy of man-of"-war, being sent out of hi« own ship on an errand to toother, the 4*0 boys were comparing Botes about their manner of living. •How often,' •aid one, do you go to prayers now V— •W hy,' answered the other, 'in case of a Mora*4r any other danger.' 'Aye,' said tne first, 'there'* i»m« sense in that# but my master make* u»-pray when there's mord aeeasliin for HiH&n for my Haping overbo«afc*^i 'f

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Sir John Fraaklin»s Expedition. Capt. Wilkes, elf the Navy, publishes a letter in the National Intelligencer iri relation to the contemplated* expeditiod in search of Sir John Franklin, the British navigator. Capt. Wilkes entertains the hope that it is not yet top late to render relief, and suggests that prompt ac* tion may bo the means otf silvingSir John and his brave followers 'from a«|errible fate. He is of opinion that the search should be made through the Wellington Channel, it being the only point whei'd adequate search is not likely to be made! Beyond Cape Walker towards tbejsouthr wGst, in Baffin's Bay, in Davis's Straits, in Lancaster Sound, or in the Arctic Ocean within Bearing Straits, he would most likely be fallen in \vith by Richardson or Ross, both of \vhom are in search of him, or by the English, Russian, or American whale ships, whicli have extended their cruising grounds in those remote parts. Tlje writfir ro^ mftrks: VthnHq

The best practical plan, peculiarly suited te our means and the character of our navigation and service, is to fit out three or four of our small Eastern fishing vessels, (Chebacco boats,) from sixty td eighty or one hundred tons burthen* manned by those who have been brought up ih them, and have them well and fully equipped, with but small crews, ten or twelve persons, including officers. For this number these vessels could be provided with fuel, provisions and clothing for two or three seasons., There is nb necessity for them to set out with the in1 tention of wintering within the icy region the supplies should be to guard against accident of detention. The vessels and outfit could readily be prepared for five or seven thousand dollars each, and crews would cheerfully undertake the voyage at double wages and a gratuitous supply of warm clothing the whole sum would not exceed for these $26,000. The reward offered by the British Government, iri theeventof success, would be ample compensation to excite the greatest exertion, casting aside the desire of adventure and engaging In so laudable an undertaking.

The distance of Wellington Channel from our shores is not greater than, that to Europe, and the voyage may readily be performed in forty-five days.

If (says the letter) vessels were notf fitted they would be in time for the season, which opens about the middle of July, and would be able to ox pi ore this channel thoroughly to its farthest tixtent or navigable poiht. and, if not to succoi-* they will ascertain whether Sir John Franklin had taken that route, and returii safely back before winter with tidings.i

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Accident.—Singular K^eatiL

—On Wednesday, the 9th instant, a daughter of William and Temperatico Rohrbaugh, residing a few tniles fro^l thi^ place, aged two years, met with thd following singular and*" mculaneholy death: 1l"'

Mr. Rohrba\tgh tfrem to afield about a quarter of a milo from tho house td work a horse not accustomed to a shovel plough. Mrs. Rohrbaugh accompanied him to prevent accident. She led the horse once around, theH let him go. Ho went but short distance when he took afright, jumped and disconnected himself with the plough, and ran at full speed for the-stable, passing through the yard where throe small children Werd pitying. The plough line, as he passed thd children, lashed around the neok of the child, tied iteslf in a drawing loop, dragging it about 150 yard}?, to the stable door, where tho horse stopped. The' father came up, picked up his child, but mortality had fled? its-dteckAvas broken and its body dreadfully mangled and bruised. Titus in a moment was it snatched from the arms of the loving parents, and taken to those of' Him who will take tho place of those ft left.— Wcsicn Ftt) SeiUineLfi thO %$

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A Dreadful siTCATioj?.-r-Mr Noys Ladd,late ofStonington, Conn appear^ to have b6en deeply afflicted by trie r^ccnt catastrophe to the Km pi re* having lost three brothers. His mpthe* was rescued undorthe followingcircucnstat*ces: "My motherwas taken out of the laclics* cabin through a hole cut in tho saloon floo*. "^She had cli&ibed up, ptlt her feel on the upper birth. and supported herself by the ribs of the celling. I had heard her screaming, but did not know who it was Itwrts in pursuit of her voice that I found tho boy She held her face to tho cabin ceiling and screamed. She had to raise her chin to keep it out of tho water, tvhich was constantly roll ingbn her face as the boat heaved. She says she could not have held out more than a minute l^Qgor. There was another woin»h

in

lbe

cabin whose voice

was not as loud as her's. Her call ceased a a

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Sprugglc's youngest, Juli^.Augitsyt Sprugglc,satd the.other.day •Poppy, is %ails around forts any relation to sheeft

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i. »No, my love. Why do you ask 1 •Cause 1 heard uncle Bob talking about the ram-parts of a fort, tho otljcr day. 'Be quiet, child, and go to your ma. 'But poppy, them are ramparts aint like fish are tfiey •No, my child. What on earth put that into yoor bead

Why» cause uncle Bob #aul wh/oo ho pac in Flanders, one night hp was obliged to scale the ramparts!' ijufia, stop hemming that t«hie-«oih and give this child some panada.

'Ttf* a world of business attd bus' t!«#' said a minister in a sermon. •Yes, more bustle titan business,' l^is* F^red a pretty girL„

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