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bim arrested. Why my letters should always he selected for this purpose, I cannot imagine; hut if any mure of them are touched, he will wish he had let them alone."
This direct charge, and these threats, produced a greater commotion among his fellow-clerks than in the mind of the gentleman accused. Waiting for a moment after she had spoken, he broke the breathless silence that followed her words, by saying, calmly,—" Mrs. , I believe 1"
"That is my name sir."
"Have you concluded your remarks, madam 1"
"I have, sir, for the present."
"Then, madam, I will take the liberty to inform you that your husband is the person on whom you ought to ex|>end your indignation. He has, at different times, taken several of your letters from the office, opened and read them, and after re-sealing, returned them to the letter box, having made certain discoveries in those letters, to which he forced me to listen, as furnishing sufficient ground for his course, and justifying former suspicions! He earnestly requested me never to disclose who opened the letters, and I should havo continued to observe secrcsy, had not your accusation forced me to this disclosure in self-defence. If you wish to have my statement corroborated, I think I can produce a reliable witness."
The lady did not reply to this proposition, but made a precipitate retreat, leaving the clerk master of the field, and was never afterwards seen at that post-office.
The Dead Letter.
The following is contributed by "Dave," of the Columbus (Ohio) post office:
During my term of service at the general delivery of this office, it was my custom, upon receiving dead letters trom Washington City, to make a list of the names of the persons to whom they were addressed, and stick it up ia the lobby of the office, with a notice "Call for Dead Letters."
One day an elaborate specimen of Erin's sons, whose brawny fists and broad shoulders seemed to denote a construction with an eye single to American railroads, lounged into the office, and up to the board containing the aforesaid list. He looked at it a moment, and burst into Tears. I spoke to him through the w indow, and asked him what was the matter.
"Oh! Mr. Postmaster, I see ye have a daid letthcr for me. I spect me sester in Ireland's daid, and it's not a wake since I sint her a tin pound note to come to Amcriky wid—and kin ye tell me how long she's biu daid, Mr. Postmaster 1"
I asked him his name, found the "letther," and after a request from him "to rade it, sir, and rade it aisy if you plaze," opened it, and told him not to cry; that his sister w as not dead, hut that it was a letter written by himself, and directed to Michael Flaherty, Boston, Chicago.
'And is Michael daid, Mr. Postmaster?"
"No, I guess not," said I.
"Well, who is daid, sir 1"
I explained to him that letters not taken from the office to which they were addressed within a certain time, were sent to what is called the Dead Letter Office at Washington City, and from thence, if containing any thing valuable, to the persons w ho wrote tbem.
'God bliss ye for that, sir, but Michael lives in Chicaga."
I told him I would not dispute that, but Boston and Chicago were two distinct cities, and the letter was addressed to both, and that Boston being the first named, it had been retained there, and his friend had not received it.
"Sure and I thought Boston was in Chicaga! and that's what ye call a daid letther, is it1 Faith and I thought it was Bridget and not the letther, was daid. You see, Mr. Postmaster, Michael he writ home to the ould folks that he lived in Chicaga, that he had married a nice American lady, that she was a sea-cook on a slameboat, and that they called her a nager. So whin I started for Amerlky, the ould modder, Michael's modder, she gave me these illigant rings, (the letter contained a pair of ear rings,) '.o give Michael's w ife for a prisint.— When wo landed at Boston, I wrote Michael the letther, tould him 1 was going to Columbus to live, put on the name—Michael Flaherty, Boston, Chi
caga, and put it in the post,—and sure here it is, and Michael's sea-cook nager niver got it. Bad luck to the ship that fetched me to Boston, Mr. Postmaster."
After offering to "trate me for the trouble" he had caused me he left, and ever after when he mailed a letter, he brought it to me to put on the address. "Because ho didn't understand these daid lctthers."
The Drunkard and his Story.
From the New York Five Points Monthly Review we select the ensuing scene from real life:
A few Sabbaths since, at morning service, one of the most degrading specimens of humanity that ever greeted my vision, came staggering into the chapel of the House of Industry. His wild and frightful looks," ragged and dirty beyond description, his face bruised and swollen, rendered him an object of disgust and terror. He seemed to look at the children witli wonderful interest, occasionally muttering to himself, " Beautiful! beautiful! 0 that mine were here!" He sat an hour or more, and then with a long, earnest look at the children, staggered out of the chapel, and w ent up to the " dark valley of the shadow ol death"—Cow Bay.
As the bell rang for service in the afternoon, and while the children were clustering together, the same wild looking man staggered in once more.— He surveyed the faces of the children w ith the closest scrutiny, and at length his eyes rested on two bright-eyed little girls, who were singing one of. their little hymns. He sat immoveable as a statue during the w hole service, gazing intently on the faces of these two children.
The services closed, the congregation dispersed, yet he lingered, and the tears came coursing down his cheeks thick and fast.
Dr. S asked him what was tho matter.
"I am a drunkard! A wretch—an outcast, homeless and without a penny. Once I had a home and friends—father, mother, wife, children, and hosts of friends who loved and respected me.— Time passed, and I became a drunkard! One friend after another left me; still I drank on, and down, down, dowu I fell.
"Father and mother both went down to their graves with broken hearts. My poor wife clung to me when all others had deserted me. I still drank on, pawning one article after another, till all was gone, and when my wife refused to give me her wedding ring, which she had clung to with a tenacity of a death grasp, I felled her to the earth, seized her finger, tore off the ring, and pawned it for rum. That fatal blow maddened her, and iu despair she too, drank, and together we wallowed in the gutter.
"Penniless, we begged our way from Vermont to this great city. Hero we hired a small cellar in a dark and dismal street, and sent our children out to beg. Many a weary day we spent iu that cellar, while our children wandering in the streets, begged for their drunken parents. About forty days since, my little girls went out to beg, and from that hour to this I have not seen them. Without food or fire I clung to my dismal abode, till hunger forced me out to search for my children. My degraded wife has been sent to Blackwell's Island as a vagrant, and alone I went to the Island, to the House of Refuge, to the Tombs, and in despair I wandered to the Five Points, and for the last few days I have lived in Cow Bay, among beggars and thieves. To-day I saw children, who, if they had not looked so clean and sung so sweetly, I would have called them mine. 0! would to God they were!"
"Tell me tho name," said Dr. S , "and I will
sec." In a few moments two interesting little children were led toward him. At the sight of this fearful looking man they shrunk hack. The poor man sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "they are mine! mine! Come to me my children. Father loves you." He reached out his arms; the little ones were timid at first, but they soon climbed up their father s knee, while the tears were streaming down his face.
"Kiss your poor drunken father, my children.' But the face of the man w as so black and filthy not a place could be found. Soon they forgot the dirty face and remembered their poor degraded father; and each entwined their little aims around his neck, and fondly kissing him, the elder one said with a voice that touched every heart:
"Father we are so happy here, that we want to say, w on't you come and live here too, papa 1 What makes you drink so i Dear papa, do sign the pledge and not drink any more. Mr. Pease found us in the street begging, and now we are happy. Do, papa, come and live bete and be good to us as you used to be."
The father's was overwhelmed; he sobbed and groaned aloud. For more than an hour they sat together, till at last the old man arose, still clinging to his children, and exclaimed: "The pledge! the pledge! I will never drink again I" I gave him the pledge and from that hour he has faithfully kept it. He is now a man again, engaged in business, earning ten dollars per week, and none could recognize in the well-dressed man—who still boards in the house—the degraded original whose portrait can still be seen at the House of Industry, dagtierreotyped in its striking deformity and squalor.
Hoops At The Tcileries.—What Eugenie wears must be a matter of interest to all her sisters in New York, and we therefore give our lady readers the following extract from a letter in the Times, touching in two places on The Hoop. The occasion was the ceremony of the Imperial closing of the Paris Exposition :—
Her Majesty, on ascending the platform in front of the throne, bowed very low and excessively formal, first to the light and then to the left. The Emperor did not bow, and thus while waiting for the Empress to make her salutation, looked, for once, at least, awkward. Her Majesty wore a diadem of pearls, and a dress of scarlet velvet, over the skirt of which was hung the prize lace for which Her Majesty some time ago offered a premium. The dress was magnificent, and was enormously hooped: it would have sufficed to cover a whole family of children. This delect, however, was slightly relieved by some of the Maids of Honor, who followed, through at a remote distance, and in a diminished degree, the exaggerations of Her Majesty's toilette. The physiological sympathies of the female system are as curious as the arts of a French milliner are w onderful!
At the side of the Empress stood the Duke of Cambridge, cousin to Queen Victoiia, with bald head, enormous beard, mocking eyes, the inevitable red coat, and the grand cordon of the Legion of Honor. Beside the Duke stood the Princess Mathilde, covered with pearls and diamonds, as usual, with maroon velvet robe and point d' Alencon lace, and no hoops; the princess never wears hoops.
Gbeat Volcanic Ercftion.—The volcano of Hawaii, Sandwich Islands, was in a state of dangerous eruption in October. A letter from Hilo, Oct. loth, states that the stream of lava, three miles w ide, had flowed more than fifty miles, and was within twelve miles of that city, and advancing with sure and solemn progress. The people were naturally becoming anxious and kept scouts out to w atch the irresistible stream of fire. The writer says:
"For sixty-three days the molten flood has rolled dowu the mountain without abatement. Our Hawaiian atmosphere is loaded with smoke and gases, through which the sun shines with dingy and yellow rays. The amount, of lava disgorged from this awful magazine is enormous. The higher regions of the mountains are flooded with vast tracts ofsmoking lava, while the streams which haveflowed down the side of the mountain spread over a surface of several miles in breadth. The main stream, is still flow ing direct for our bay, and is supposed to be within ten miles of us. it is eating its way slowly through the deep foiest and the denso jungle in our rear, and its terminal must be the sea , unless the great summit fountain should cease to disgorge. The burning stream now runs all tho way in a covered duct, so that it can be seen only at its vents, which let off the gas. These are truly fearful. We looked down one of them, and saw tl»e fiery current rushing under us, in some places at the rate of forty knots."
An Excellent Rkason.—A lady walking a few days since,on one of the wharves in New York,ask«i^\ a sailor whom she met, w hy a ship w as called "sho'* The son of Neptune replied that it was "because the rigging cost more than the hull 1"
A Troi T Fisir Living In A Wei.:, Twenty-five Years.—Mr. F.Hoyt, a correspondent of tl;c Country Oentleir.cn, writing from South Eart, New York, November 1'Jt.li, says:
"Can any one tell how long a trout fish will live 1 Twenty-five years the past summer I came on the farm where I now am. Almost the first work that I did after getting in my spring crops, wns to drain a bog swamp, the outlet of which leads into theOroton river. I had an old Scotchman to do the ditching. One day he brought up a trout fish about the size of a man's little linger, in his whiskey jug, (by the by wo used a little on the farm then, and not since then). I put it in the well near the house, and it is there now, grown to a goodly size— say about a foot long, and large in propoition. It has been fed but very little; once in a while some one throws in a grasshop|>er or cricket, to see him catch it. The well is thirty feet deep, and water hard, and settles down nearly to the bottom, and then again rises to near the top. He has been taken out a few times to clean the well, but not for the last live years. , Friday last I got a grasshopper, the last one I expect to see this fall, and gave it to him. The water is now twenty-five feet deep, but it hardly touched the surface before he had it. If any one has a fish older than mine I would like to know it."
Another Trout Story.—In connection with the item, w hich we have published, of the trout which lived in a well twenty five years, the Bangor Mercury gives the following:
"Many years ago a trout was caught by the keeper of the Augusta Dye House, and was kept in the dye-house in a hall-hogshead of water which was set over a living spring. The fish grew to be a foot long and wondrous fat, and, what is true and perhaps not strange, always recognized his master and one or two of his neighbors' children, and would come up to the surface to take food out of their hands and play with them. When strangers came in, and he had many visitors, he would go down to the bottom of his tub, like Diogenes, and remain there dignified and distant, but clearly visible in the limpid water. At the time of the great freshet in Augusta, the dye-house was completely overflowed, but the trout remained in his tub, and was found there by his gratified master when the water subsided. A year or two since some unknown wretch furtively caught him, having broken into the dye-house for this purpose. His loss \fas regretted by many admiring friends."
Mike Walsh In An English Debating Club.— Mike Walsh, ex-meiubcrof Congress, is in England, and writes characteristic letters to the New York Herald. He relates in one of his last a personal triumph. He went to a tap room debating society in Liverpool, and thus tells what happened to liiin there:
Among the questions to be discussed by the society were the following:—"Did the human race spring from one |»air V
"Would the spread of education lend to diminish crime V
"Is the faculty of reason confined to man 1" "Are the |>eople politically propaied for an extension of the suU'ragc V
The latter was the one then under consideration, aid my sturdy lunged fiiend who had just sat down had been sustaining the affirmative side of the question in reply, as I learned, to a tall Scotch tailor, who was smoking a pipe on the left of the chairman. A little, shriveled fellow, with a keen eve, and armed with most formidable documents and elaborate notes, next entered in opposition to the extension. He bad evidently read a great deal, but did not seem to understand his subject. Nearly all his illustrations, though seemingly conclusive, w ere easily tariied against himself, and after a very tedious discourse in which he made the most sweeping miss!atemetits against our people and government, he closed bv saying that although fully conscious that his positions were unassailable, he should have no objection to hearing his strange friend (referring to Qe) mnke the attempt.
Accepting; the invitation I arose, and was greeted quite warmly by the almost despairing friends of 'jesuflVa'c- and believe me, if ever I came down &a any one with deserved and withering severity, I
did so on this occasion. As I proceeded our side became gradually flushed with exultation. Scouts were sent out to bring in the faithful, and ere I got through, the whole hall, stairway, and lane in front were filled with attentive and enthusiastic listeners, and as I closed, such a shout—so long and deafening—was never before heard in Limekiln Lane. Even the old windmills re-echoed the cheer of triumph which rent the air.
Finding all excuses utterly useless, I accompanied a large detachment of my delighted adherents into a tavern close by, and much against my will, emptied some half dozen pots of the worst beer I have tasted in England, before I could get away.
Fanny Fern Upon Boston.—Fanny Fern is sometimes true to her name in acridness. She understands Boston, however, and gives it due credit for its neatness and morality, while she does not omit a deservedly hard hit at its narrow provincialism. We find the following in her last new book:
"Use your eyes," said Gertrude; "do you not see that the gutters are inodorous; that the sidewalks are as clean as a parlor floor; that the children are healthy, and sensibly dressed; that the gentlemen here do not smoke in public.; that the intellecual, icicle women glide through the streets, all dressed after one pattern, with their mouths puckered up as if they were going to whistle; and that there is a general air of substantiality and well-to do-alivencss pervading the place; a sort of touchme-not, pharisaical atmosphere of'standaside' propriety 1 Do you not see that the slops are not thrown at your ankles from unexpected back doors, basements or windows ; that tenement houses and palatial residences do not stand cheek by jowl; that Boston men are handsome, but provincial, and do you not know that the munificence of her rich men is proverbial 1 Yes, John, Boston is a nice little place; that its inhabitants go to church three times on Sunday is a fixed fact, and that many of them discuss fashions going, and slander their neighbors coming back, is quite a fixed fact. If I should advise her it would be after thiswise:—Hop out of thy ]>eck measure, oh Boston ! and take at least a half bushel view of things, so shalt thou be weighed in the balance, and not found wanting I"
St. Bernard Dogs.—A correspondent of the Providence Journal eives an interesting account of his ascent of the St Bernard. He was shown the portrait of a noble dog that had saved fifteen human lives. The breed is in danger of becoming extinct The writer adds:
"The pictures that we see of St. Bernard dogs, going out with bottles tied around their necks and picking up little children prom scuously in the snow, aie all very pretty, but like too many other pretty things, uot at all true. The dogs i.ever go out alone: they probably could be of little service alone; but their wonderful sagacity, and theii strong scent, which, it is said, will detect a man thiccnii'es off. their power of following the path with unerring certitude, however deep it may be coveted with snow, their endurance, fidelity and courage, more than double the efficiency of the men whom they accompany. Their natural gifts are greatly improved by education, and as mush is due to the caicful and laborious training which they leceive as to the singular power with which they are originally endowed. In the training of the young doss, the old ones are the most efficient instructors, and it is this which mainly excites the apprehension at the danger of the extinction of the race. It w ould be a work of immense labor ,and perhaps of doubtful success, to attempt, without the aid of the dogs already taught, to bring up tho young ones to he their equals. The same monk told me that the breed was believed to be a cross between the dog of the Pyrenees and the Newfoundland, but that now it might be called a distinct breed."
A lady was once declaring that she could not understand how gentlemen could smoke. "It certainly shortens their lives," said she.
"I didn't know that," replied a gentleman, "there's my father who smokes even blessed day, and he is now seventy years old."
"Well," was the reply, "if he had never smoked he might have been eighty."
Reading In The Cars.—Many persons are in the habit of reading when travelling in the cars— a practice that is very injurious to the eyes. Some instances have been known where those who read when traveling have lost their sight. The jolting motion has a tendency to blur the lines and to strain the eyes. The editor of the New England Farmer, who has been a sufferer, in an article on this subject, gives his own experience:
"We had several times been cautioned against reading in the cars, but a bag full of 'exchauges' has proved too strong a temptation to resist, and for several years it has been our practice to read from two or three to twenty or thirty papers while passing over a distance of twenty miles. But during tho spring and early part of summer, we invariably returned home with a painful sensation in and about the eyes, though feeling nothing of it on taking the cars at Boston. This pain at last became permanent, sometimes violent, and so groat as to prevent us from reading, and generally from writing, though the sight was not impaired. Upon consultation with an oculist, he stated that the optic nerve had bee me weakened by overtasking it, and inquired if wo were not in the habit of reading in the cars 1 Under an interdiction from reading and writing, the eyes have rapidly improved, and we can now read half an hour at a sit ting, under favorable circumstances."
Mas. Partington And The City Election.
"So they have denominated Dr. Shirtless," said Mrs. Partington, as she heard of the selection of Dr. Shurtleff by the Know Nothings. She had known the doctor for many years, and had admired his excellence as a man and his ability as a physician. "Well, he is a good man, and I dare say the city will becomo better by a change of doctors, if he is electric. I hope he will give it a good purgatory, and work off all its corruption, for heaven knows it needs it enough. I wonder what doctor they will have next if he don't do no good—Dr. Barker, I guess; he that gives his patience the sylabub omnibus decanter, as they call it, and cures 'em by hellbroth and deadly nightshade, done up in sugar plants." The noise of an omnibus rendered her remarks inaudible, but her mouth kept on moving, like a wheel, from its own impetus, after the belt of the engine has been removed, while Ike was trying to twist a nervous dog's tail in the crook of his hawky.—Post.
Mrs. Partington On The Election.—" Hoorah for Rice! he's got it!" yelled Ike, dancing into the room, with an energetic slam of the door, that made all the doors in the house open with astonishment. "Rice," said Mrs. Partington, " who's got it 1" and she looked half-anxiously upon the boy before her, as if cart and tierce were at her wit's end, and speculation in rice a half-evolved idea. "Why," said he, "Mr. Rice has been made Mayor, and the Know-Nothings is all knocked t'other side of Jordan." The old lady smiled upon his enthusiasm and eagerly asked, "Have they elected the old incumbrance of the boards of Aldermen 1" He told her they hadn't elected OQe of the old incumbents, at the same time throwing his cap again in the air, and trying to catch it on his head as it fell. "Well, then," said she, "the people had ought to hold a gratification meeting in Funnel Hall at once, and let the two Doctors come, because I know they aro as much gratified as anybody, particularly one of 'em." Tho cap, Ike, is thy best, and it were seemly to me it with mo e care, for thy protector is not, as she says, as rich as Kreosote.—Post.
Thackeray says a woman's heart is just like a lithographer's stone—what is once written on it can't be rubbed out. This is so. Let an heiress once fix her affections on a stable boy, and all the preaching in the world cannot get her heart above oathoxes and curry-combs. "What is written on her heart can't be rubbed out." This fact shows itself, not only in lovo, but in religion. Men change their Gods a dozon times—a woman never. To convert a Sister of Charity to Methodism would require a greater amount of [lower than you would need to overturn the pyramids.— Buff. Rep
Mrs. Harris says, if men were not intended for soldiers, how comes it, she wants to know, that they are all bora with "drums'- iu their ears.
A Baby Elephant.—The N. V. Sunday Hires has seen the baby elephant that was horn recently in that city, and gives a very pretty account of the little creature:
"These baby elephants are very interesting objects. They aie perfectly formed throughout, and differ from their parents only in size—hut that difference is so amazing that it becomes ludicrous j and when you see the 'baby' walking to and fro under its mother, you cannot resist the impulse to laugh at the oddity of the comparison. And then the bulky mother's care of her 'baby' is so humanlike and affectionate! Give the baby an apple, for instance. The mother elephant first lakes in her trunk, examines it closely, and then returns it to her infant to eat, having satisfied herself apparently of its innocuousness. And so with everything else. The watchful care, the jealous fondness, the assiduous and untiring attention of the parent monster is eminently worthy of imitation by many a being who makes profession to a much greater share of intelligence,"
Cabbages.—There are more ways to cook a fine cabbage than to boil it with a bacon side, and yet few seem to comprehend that there can he any loss in cooking it, even in this simple way. Two-thirds of the cooks place cabbage in cold water and start it to boiling; this extracts all the best juices, and and makes the pot liquor a soup. The cabbage head, after being washed and quartered, should he dropped into boiling water, with no more meat than will just season it. Cabbage may be cooked to equal broccoli or cauliflower. Take a firm, sweet head, cut it into shreds, lay it in salt and water for six hours. Now place it in boiling water until it becomes tender—turn the water off, and add sweet milk when thoroughly done; take it up in a cullender and drain. Now season with butter and pepper with a glass of wine, and a little nutmeg grated over, and you will have a dish little resembling what are generally called greens.—Soil of the South.
A friend of ours, four years of age, expressing aome of her convictions with great earnestness, said she "should think God would come down and take a ride on the railroad some day—some Sunday, when nobody would see him 1" She felt his majesty too great to be gazed upon, and yet she thought he ought to enjoy the wonders created through his means. Strange puzzles have these infantine Drains to work out; and they are not always satisfactorily answered in riper years.—Sandusky Register.
What is a coquette 1 A young lady of more beauty than sense; more accumplishments than learning; more charms of person than graces of mind; more admirers than friends; more fools than wise men for attendants.
"Vou say, Mr. Springles, that Mr. Jacocks was your tutor. Does the court understand from that that you received your education from himl"
"No sir. By tutor I mean that he learnt me to play on the French horn. He taught me to toot— hence I call him my tutor."
"Ah! the court understood you differently. Crier, call the next witness."
Here is what Sidney Smith says of his coontrymen: "The English are a calm, reflecting people; they will give time and money when they are convinced; but they love dates, names, certificates. In the midst of most heart-rending narratives, Bull requires the day of the month, the year of the Lord, the name of the parish, and the countersign of three or four respectable householders. After those affecting circumstances, he can no longer bold out; hut gives way to the kindness of his nature—puffs, blubbers and subscribes 1"
Men are frequently like tea—the real strength and goodness is not properly drawn out of them till they have been a short time In hot water.
"that Same Old Coon."—Two custom house officers were unpacking a bale of tobacco in the bonded warehouse, Liverpool, when on removing the outer covering of raw ox hide, they found a raccoon, thin, indeed, to emaciation, but still alive. It had existed for months, by nibbling at the raw ox hide, which thus at ouce became its food and prison-house. It has since been allowed more generous fare, and is rapidly recovering from the effects of Us loirg and hungry confinement.
At a fashionable hat store, an amusing incident happened yesterday. Three gentlemen from the country applying for a weed to be affixed to each of their hats, Mr S. inquired of them respectively as to the width of crape they desired. The first, with a long drawn face and piteous accent, answered: "It is in memory of my wife, my sorrows arc more than I can bear—let the badge of mourning cover the entire height of the hat." The second managed to swallow at least half of his soirow, and replied: "8he was only a sister to me, and the blow is not so seveie as to him who has been deprived of his better half; let the crape cover hut a portion of the hat, and let it be artistically arranged." But the sang frcid of the third w as inimitable. "Oh," said he, "she was only a cousin— two or three inches will be quite sufficient. Two or three inches of mourning. What a reflection on the absurdities of custom.—Cleveland Leader.
A rustic belle who] came tripping into the house one evening from the fields, was told by her city cousin that she looked as fresh as a daisy kissed with the dew. "Well, it wasn't any ftllow of that name, but Bill Jones, that kissed me; and confound his picture, I told him every body would did him out."
"where Ignorance Is Bliss."—(Sprightly little boy jumping about.) "Oh ! Crikey Criminy! Ain't I happy 1 Here's the dentist coming to-morrow, and Pa has promised me sixpence for every tooth that I have pulled out."
"A western editor, not knowing that "hotel" is Bynonymous with mansion or residence, in the French, after announcing among the news of the day, 'Talleyrand had died at his hotel in Taris,' proceeded to relate, by way of an essay upon the mutability of human affairs—how this remarkable man had ruled France by his talents—been the confidant and adviser of Napoleon—done a thousand important things that had excited the attentiou of all nations—and finally, notwithstanding the distinguished part he had played in the world's history, died a tavern-keeper."
Why is a vine like a soldier 1 Ans.—It is trained, has ten-drills and shoots. Why is a philanthropist like a horse 1 Ans.—Both stop at the sound of "wo." Why had a man better lose an arm than a leg 1 Ans.—Because losing his leg, he loses something to boot.
Why is a man's brewery like the well of the Israelites 1
Ans.—Because He—brews drink there.
Ans.—When it is dew in the morning and mist at night
Why are lovers' sighs like long stockings 1
Can yon tell me why
Can beet counterfeit (her feet),
He can beBt count her toes.
Entuzzymczz Y.—An ardent Southerner, who has just been enraptured by "bose Clark," has written a letter to Fanny Fern, begging her to send him one of her old gaiter boots!
Fred. Douglas told a story the other evening, in his lecture, of what a New Hampshire farmer said of his neighbor, Frank Pierce. The farmer was interrogated concerning the President and what was thought of him at home. "Oh," aaid the farmer, "he is a good fellow up here, but conic to spread him all over t}i,e country he is dreadful thin."
'Stop,' said one little boy U> another 'don't go into Sabbath School yet, wait till it opens, and we'll just go round the square.' 'No,' answered the other, 'I cannot; don't you know punctuality is necessary to make a good Sabbath scholar V Yes my boy, it is necessary to make good every thing else.
Shocking Cruelty.—We have to record one of the most violent manifestations of filial ingratitude that ever came under notice. Mr Longfellow, fresh from the Indian Country, says that a warrior, having got "very angry,"
'■sleized his grandmother and threw her
Up into the sky lit midnight,
Ktght against the moon he threw her;
'TIs her body that you see there 1" Grinjibbewawanasealoola, the deputy sheriff of the tribe, was on the track of the villain at the last accounts.
The following is one of the beautiful thoughts itw Longfellow's Hiawatha:
"Saw the rainbow In the heaven;
In tho eastern sky the rainbow,
Whinnered, 'What is that. Kokomfe f
And the good Nokomi* answered:
'Tls the heaven of flowers you soe there;
All the wild flowers of the forest,
Alt the lilies of the prairie,
When on earth they fade and perish,
llloasotn in that heaven, above us.'"
The following circumstance occurred in a village' clrurch in England, on the visitation of the Bishop of the diocese, for the purpose of administering tho ordinance of confirmation. The clerk who usually gave out the psalms and hymns, wishing to celebrate the honor of his Grace's visit, commenced a* follows: "Let us sing to the praise and glory o?" God, a psalm of my own composing.
"The mountains skipped ilka frightened rams,
The little hills did hop,
To welcome Into our town,
His grace, tho Lord Dish-op."'
"Couldn't you get young pork, ma'am, to bako with your beans 1" said old Roger, somewhat cynically, as he sat at the table one Sunday.
"They told me it was young," said tho landlady.
"Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile foature, by any means, ia our latitude, ma'am," continued he, fishing up a hair about a foot and a half long with his fork. "He may have been young, but he tuust have lived a very wicked life to be gray so soon."
As he spoke he looked along the table, and a slight emotion was visible among the boarders, and the man who sat opposite with his mouth full of edibles, with which he had been endeavoring tr> sraother a laugh, grew dark with the effort, and thon collapsed, scattering dismay and crumbs amid the nicely plated folds of old Roger's shirt frills.
In 1750, a gallows and whipping post stood near Porter's tavern, in Cambridge, which gave rise tothe following:
"Cambridge fs a famous town,
Home Toeke was the son of a poulterer, which) he allmied to when called upon by the proud striplings of Eton to describe himself. "1 nm (said Home) the sou of an eminent Turkey merchant."
It is so hilly in some parts of Vermont, that a little boy who fell off a cow shed, cha other day, never brought up till he got into the next county.
"Mother, I'm afraid the fever would.gohard with, me."
"Why so, my son 1"
"Cause, you see mother, I'm so small that there wouldn't be room enough for it to turn."
Last Case or Coolness.—(A Fact.)—"Wolf
B , I want that money. When will you pay th»
"Oh ! well, I'll pay it before——before you get through wanting it."
"An Englishman" reviews Prince Albert's address at Birmingham, and says that portion of It which refers to popular education, when reduced to plain English is just this: "Englishmen, mind your own business, and never display discontent again when my son calls for £8000 a year for his stables."
An advertisement lately appeared in the Dublin E voning Post, headed "Iron bedsteads and bedding.'' We suppose, according to the latter term, that the linen is of sheet-iron.
Silk articles should not he kept folded in white paper, as the chloride of lime used in bleaching the paper will impair the color of tho silk.
Adams, John, anecdote of
, ripe old
American, a native
, platform of, in R. I.
, " "in Alabama
-, at Philadelphia
Anecdotes, 8, 16, 16, 23, 24, 31, 32, 37, 40, 47,
123, 129, 137
Anniversary, a centennial
, and consumption
Asa and Ira
Atlantic, the basin of the
Babcock, speech of Mr.
Balaklava, battle of
Beef, royal baron of
, —., on cold water
Boston, School teachers in
■ , Fanny Fern on
Bouquet, the poisoned
Cry, a startling
Czar, death of the , the new
San Tucker in India
, burning the
Deaf and dumb
Devil, casting out a
, a shrewd
Dogs, St. Bernard
Education, Board of Popular
Egg, a big
Elections, how to preserve the purity of
, a baby
, artistocracy of
25, 65, 91
26, 35, 50
for the curious
, how to spoil, &c.
Fanning in church
Farm and Garden 54, 61, 69, 83, 94,
Farmers' boys, story for
Farmington, early history of
Fashions in old times
Fat Man, anecdote of the
Folks, the old
Fowls, something about
French and English
, character of the
Gentleman, the deaf and dumb
Habits, four good
, walks among the poor of
Heart, winter of the
, signs of temper in
Howe, E G., letters from
, the three jolly
Husband, my , returned
Idleness, dangers of
, a beautiful
, a romantic
, a touching
Insane Retreat, report of
, lund tor tl;e
Japan and China
Kaintuck and fiddler,
Kane, Dr., discoveries of
Kiss, a fortunate
Knife, the new
Ladies, compliments to
, to young
, something for the
Lake George, battle of
, members of
Legislator, a Michigan
, the goal of
Lightuing, death by
Lily, the Scripture
Liquor vs. Latin
Loafer, a conundrumical
London, dark spot in *
'Long look ahead,' extract from
Long lost found
Lord's Prayer, the
Louis Napoleon in England
Maine Law in N. T. City
— , the
Man that kissed, &c.
's clerk, the prompt
Michigan, education in
Mistake, a ludicrous
Money and liquor trade
, the power of
Poetry—Mount Lime itation, 3; To my aged Fa-
105; Good night, 106; To on a late loss,
105; The Drunkard's Wife, 113; Tennyson, 113;
Post Office, romance of
Prohibition, J. M. Niles on
, Gough on
Raglan, Lord, inefficiency of
trains, velocity of
commissioners, report of
Sabbath, seventh day
Scene, a beautiful
Schools and Teachers
, a dinner before
, American doctor in
, storming of
of an old maid
Senate, the State
Shoe business in Lynn
Sidon, discoveries in
Silver Lake sei|>eiit
Stave, sale of a in Connecticut
, good, honest
Sleeves and sauce
Snow and harvest
, common sense about
Spiritualists, marriage of
Squire, where's the!
Fair, Premiums at
Stay where you arc
, a ghost
Text, a notty
"Thpit on it, Captain"
Times, London, extract from
, story for the
Trade, I shall not learn a
Trout, stories about
Ups and downs
Vengeance, a woman's
Voter, an independent
, business view of the
, romance of
Webster, Daniel, letters of
, selling a
Will, duty of making a
Winsted, Scythe trade of
, a remarkable
Yankee, at the Dutch Court
and the Monks
—— America on their travels