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aim arrested. Why my letters should always be elected for this purpose, I cannot imagine; but if any more 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?"

"That is my name sir."

"Have you concluded your remarks, madam ?" "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 expend 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 have continued to observe secresy, 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 from Washington City, to make a list of the names of the persons to whom they were addressed, and stick it up a 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 window, and asked him what was the

matter.

"Oh! Mr. Postmaster, I see ye have a daid letther 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 Ameriky wid-and kin ye tell me how long she's bin daid, Mr. Postmaster?"

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 was not dead, but 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?"

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 who wrote them.

"God bliss ye for that, sir, but Michael lives in Chicaga."

I told him I would not dispute that, but Bostou 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 it? 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 stameboat, and that they cal led her a nager. So whin I started for Ameriky, the ould modder, Michael's modder, she gave me these illigant rings, (the letter contained a pair of ear rings,) to give Michael's wife for a prisint.When we landed at Boston, I wrote Michael the letther, tould him I 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, Bad and Michael's sea-cook nager niver got it. 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 he didn't understand these daid letthers."

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 with wonderful interest, occasionally muttering to himself, "Beautiful! beautiful! O 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 went up to the "dark valley of the shadow of 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 with 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 whole 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 the 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, down 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 in despair she too, drank, and together we wallowed in the gutter.

"Penniless, we begged our way from Vermont to this great city. Here we hired a small cellar in a dark and dismal street, and sent our children out to beg. Many a weary day we spent in 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. O! would to God they were!"

"Tell me the name," said Dr. S―, "and I will sce." In a few moments two interesting little children were led toward him. At the sight of this fearful looking man they shrunk back. 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 was 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, won't you come and live here too, papa? What makes you drink so? 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 here 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! will never drink again!" 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, daguerreotyped in its striking deformity and squalor.

HOOPS AT THE TUILERIES.-What Engenie 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 right 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 defect, 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 wonderful!

At the side of the Empress stood the Duke of Cambridge, cousin to Queen Victoria, 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.

GREAT VOLCANIC ERUPTION.-The volcano of Hawaii, Sandwich Islands, was in a state of dangerous eruption in October. A letter from Hilo, Oct. 15th, states that the stream of lava, three miles wide, 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 watch the irresistible stream of fire. The writer says:

"For sixty-three days the molten flood has rolled down 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 of smoking lava, while the streams which have flowed down the side of the mountain spread over a surface of several miles in breadth. The main stream, is still flowing direct for our bay, and is supposed to be within ten miles of us. It is eating its way slowly through the deep forest and the dense 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 the 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 the fiery current rushing under us, in some places at the rate of forty knots."

AN EXCELLENT REASON.-A lady walking a few days since,on one of the wharves in New York, asked a sailor whom she met, why a ship was called “she" The son of Neptune replied that it was "because the rigging cost more than the hull !"

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A TROUT FISH LIVING IN A WELL TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. Mr. F. Hoyt, a correspondent of the Country Gentlemen, writing from South East, New York, November 19th, says:

"Can any one tell how long a trout fish will live? 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, was to drain a bog swamp, the outlet of which leads into the Croton 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 finger, in his whiskey jug, (by the by we 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 sizesay about a foot long, and large in proportion. It has been fed but very little; once in a while some one throws in a grasshopper 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 five 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, which 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 half-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 was regretted by many admiring friends."

MIKE WALSH IN AN ENGLISH DEBATING CLUB.Mike Walsh, ex-member of 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 him there:

Among the questions to be discussed by the society were the following:-"Did the human race spring from one pair ?"

"Would the spread of education tend to diminish crime?"

"Is the faculty of reason confined to man?" "Are the people politically prepared for an extension of the suffrage?"

The latter was the one then under consideration, and my sturdy lunged friend 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 eye, and armed with most formidable documents and elaborate notes, next entered in opposition to the extension. He had evidently read a great deal, but did not seem to understand his subject. Nearly all his illustrations, though seemingly conclusive, were easily turned against himself, and after a very tedious discourse in which he made the most sweeping misstatements against our people and government, he closed by saying that although fully conscious that his positions were unassailable, he should have no objection to hearing his strange friend (referring to The make the attempt.

Accepting the invitation I arose, and was greeted quite warmly by the almost despairing friends of Lue suffrage, and believe me, if ever I came down on 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-ativeness pervading the place; a sort of touchme-not, pharisaical atmosphere of 'standaside' propriety? 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? 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 this wise:-Hop out of thy peck 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!"

ST. BERNARD DOGS.-A correspondent of the Providence Journal gives 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, are all very pretty, but like too many other pretty things, not at all true. The dogs Lever go out alone: they probably could be of little service alone; but their wonderful sagacity, and their strong scent, which, it is said, will detect a man three miles off, their power of following the path with unerring certitude, however deep it may be covered 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 careful and laborious training which they receive as to the siugular power with which they are originally endowed. In the training of the young dogs, 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 would 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 be their equals. The same monk told me that the breed was believed to be a cross between the dog of the Pyrences aud 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 every 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 carsa practice that is very injurious to the cyes. 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 'exchanges' 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 the 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 great 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 bec me weakened by overtasking it, and inquired if we were not in the habit of reading in the cars? Under an interdiction from reading and writing, the eyes have rapidly improved, and we can now read half an hour at a sitting, under favorable circumstances."

MRS. 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 become 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 plums." 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.

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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 ?" 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 ?" He told her they hadn't elected one 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 are as much gratified as anybody, particularly one of 'em." The cap, Ike, is thy best, and it were seemly to use it with more 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 oatboxes and curry-combs. "What is written on her heart can't be rubbed out." This fact shows itself, not only in love, but in religion. Men change their Gods a dozen times-a woman never. To convert a Sister of Charity to Methodism would require a greater amount of power 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 born with "drums" in their ears,

A BABY ELEPHANT.-The N. Y. Sunday Times has seen the baby elephant that was born recently n that city, and gives a very pretty account of the ittle creature:

"These baby elephants are very interesting obects. They are perfectly formed throughout, and differ from their parents only in size-but that dif erence is so amazing that it becomes ludicrous; and when you see the 'baby' walking to and fro under its mother, you cannot resist the impulse to Haugh 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 takes 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 be 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 be 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 said some of her convictions with great earnestness, she "should think God would come down and take a ride on the railroad some day-some Sunday, when nobody would see him!" 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 brains to work out; and they are not always satisfactorily answered in riper years.-Sandusky Register.

What is a coquette? A young lady of more beauty than sense; more accomplishments than learning; more charms of person than graces of mind; more admirers than friends; more fools than wise men for attendants.

"You say, Mr. Springles, that Mr. Jacocks was your tutor. Does the court understand from that that you received your education from him?”

"No sir. By tutor I mean that he learnt me to play on the French horn. He taught me to toothence I call him my tutor."

"Ah! the court understood you differently. Crier, call the next witness."

Here is what Sidney Smith says of his countrymen: "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 these affecting circumstances, he can no longer hold out; but gives way to the kindness of his nature-puffs, blubbers and subscribes l'

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 once became its food and prison-house. It has since been allowed more generous fare, and is rapidly recovering from the effects of its long 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 are 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 sorrow, and replied: "She was only a sister to me, and the blow is not so severe as to him who has been deprived of his better half; let the crape cover but a portion of the hat, and let it be artistically arranged." But the sang froid of the third was inimitable. "Oh," said he, "she was only a cousintwo 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 fellow of that name, but Bill Jones, that kissed me; and confound his picture, I told him every body would find him out.'

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"WHERE IGNORANCE 18 BLISS."-(Sprightly little boy jumping about.) "Oh! Crikey Criminy! Ain't I happy? 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 synonymous with mansion or residence, in the French, after announcing among the news of the day, 'Talleyrand had died at his hotel in Paris,' 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 attention 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?

Ans. It is trained, has ten-drills and shoots.
Why is a philanthropist like a horse?
Ans.

Both stop at the sound of "wo."

Why had a man better lose an arm than a leg? Ans. Because losing his leg, he loses something to boot.

Why is a man's brewery like the well of the Israelites ?

Ans. Because He-brews drink there.
When is money damp?

Ans. When it is dew in the morning and mist at night.

Why are lovers' sighs like long stockings?
Ans. Because they are heigh ho's (high hose).
Why are caterpillars like buckwheat cakes ?
Ans. Because they make the butter fly.

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ENTUZZYMUZZY.-An ardent Southerner, who has just been enraptured by "RoSE 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," said the farmer, "he is a good fellow up here, but come to spread him all over the country he is dreadful thin."

'Stop,' said one little boy to 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 Yes my boy, it to make a good Sabbath scholar?'

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,"

"Seized his grandmother and threw her
Up into the sky at midnight,

Right against the moon he throw her;
'Tis her body that you see there "
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 in Longfellow's Hiawatha :

"Saw the rainbow in the heaven;
In the eastern sky the rainbow,
Whispered, 'What is that. Nokomis ?
And the good Nokomis answered:
'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there;
All the wild flowers of the forest,

All the lilies of the prairie,

When on earth they fade and perish,
Blossom in that heaven above us,"

The following circumstance occurred in a village church in England, on the visitation of the Bishop of the diocese, for the purpose of administering the ordinance of eonfirmation. The clerk who usually gave out the psalms and hymns, wishing to celebrate the honor of his Grace's visit, commenced as follows: "Let us sing to the praise and glory of God, a psalm of my own composing.

"The mountains skipped like frightened rams,
The little hills did hop,

To welcome into our town,

His grace, the Lord Dish-op.""

"Couldn't you get young pork, ma'am, to bake with your beans?" said old Roger, somewhat cynically, as he sat at the table one Sunday.

"They told me it was young," said the landlady. "Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile feature, by any means, in 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 must 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 ed-ibles, with which he had been endeavoring to smother a laugh, grew dark with the effort, and then 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 is a famous town,

Both for wit and knowledge;
Some they whip, and some they hang,
And some they send to college."

Horne Tooke was the son of a poulterer, which he allnded to when called upon by the proud' striplings of Eton to describe himself. "I am (said Horne) the son of an eminent Turkey merchant."

It is so hilly in some parts of Vermont, that a little boy who fell off a cow shed, the other day, never brought up till he got into the next county..

"Mother, I'm afraid the fever would go hard with me."

"Why so, my son ?"

"Cause, you see mother, I'm so small that there wouldn't be room enough for it to turn.”

LAST CASE OF COOLNESS.-(A FACT.)-"Well B, I want that money. When will you pay the bill?"

"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 Evening Post, headed "Iron bedsteads and bedding." We suppose, according to the latter term, that the linen is of sheet-iron.

Silk articles should not be kept folded in white paper, as the chloride of lime used in bleaching the paper will impair the color of the silk.

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Angels, guardian

101

Colton, Rev. George

60

Fowl speculation

86

Anecdotes, 8, 15, 16, 23, 24, 31, 32, 37, 40, 47, 48,

53, 56, 63, 64, 69, 71, 72, 77, 78, 79, 80,
86, 87, 88, 95, 96, 102, 103, 104, 112,
119, 120, 122, 136, 144, 151, 152, 158,

159, 160, 165, 166, 167, 176, 184, 191,
192, 200, 207, 208, 215, 216, 221, 222.

Anniversary, a centennial

Commissioner of School Fund, report of

Comptroller, report of

Connecticut, history of

-, centennarians of

106

Fowls, something about

149

106

French and English

55

17, 43, 70

character of the

155

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governors of

105

Furnaces

29

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202

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INDEX.

POETRY-Mount Lamentation, 3; To my aged Fa-
ther, 9; Charge of the Light Brigade, 9; My
Philosophy, 17; By the Alma River, 25; Charge
of the starved Brigade, 25; She is a Maniac, 25;
Can't do without a paper, 33; When I am o'd,
41; Ben Adhem, 41; A cold pun, 41; General
Putnam, 49; Diplomatic, 49; Gentility, 57; Visit
of Connecticut to Rhode Island, 65; The Dead,
65; I'm old, to-day, 65; Your heart shall live
forever, 73; Light-house of the world, 73; The
three Sons, 73; Gallaudet Monument, 81; Move
on, 89; The reason why, 89; Think of me, 89;
Flowers, 97: Spring, 97; The Love of later years,
105; Good night, 105; To on a late loss,
105; The Drunkard's Wife, 113; Tennyson, 113;
A Summer Scene, 121; Ben Dizzy, 129; Lines
by W. R. Lawrence, 121; Evermore, 129; Light,
137; Watch, mother, 137; Earth bound, 145; Í
would not die at all, 115; The Little Boy that
died, 145; One by one, 145; Ode to a Musketer,
145; The hot season, 153; Prairie Fire, 161;
Barbara, 161; Arm for the battle, 169; Stephen,
&c., 169; The Moral Bully, 169; Be Noble, 169;
Lines on the Death of Mrs. Stuart, 177; Kitten
Gossip, 177; Scriptural verses, 185; News boys,
193; Leaves and Men, 193; November, 193; The
Blues, 201; Song of Gastronomics, 209; The
Rail, 209: An old Story, 209; Lord Brougham,
209; Talk with the Departed, 217; Literary Cu-
riosity, 217; Disasters come not singly, 217.
Post Office, romance of

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219

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205

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178

220

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29

faithful

38

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32

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1155

75

208

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Lightning, death by

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Lily, the Scripture

41

Temperance men, influence of

164

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Liquor vs. Latin

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meeting, State

197

20

Loafer, a conundrumical

Text, a notty

96

52

Pudding, journey round the

5

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"Thpit on it, Captain"

53

Punctual, a little too

174

'Long look ahead,' extract from

Times, London, extract from

19

55

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--, story for the

165

R.

Lord's Prayer, the

Trade, I shall not learn a

45

212

Louis Napoleon in England

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81

Railway refreshments

Tragedy, a fearful

78

72

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Trouting

109

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Trout, stories about

221

105

Maine Law in N. Y. City

Typhoon, description of a

203

85

Randolph, John

83

U.

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20, 146

Man that kissed, &c.

212

Real Life, scene in

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174

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Usages, drinking

158

V.

Maud, criticism of

153

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Red hair, story about

45

Vengeance, a woman's

38

Menagerie, congressional

30

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Merchants, the London

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Vestiges of Creation, who wrote the
Vicious Life, rescue from a

23

191

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Remark, a prophetic

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Republican party, the

187

Victim, a

211

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Revolution, incident in the

22

W.

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117

Rich and Poor

35

War, horrors of

14

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148

6

romance of

166

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Money and liquor trade

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Webster, Daniel, letters of

213

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Weights and measures

201

6

San Jacinto, battle of

116

Welles, R. Jr., letter from

217

N.

Saratoga, battle of

206

169

Wheat, raising

43

Scenes

3

White Mountains, life at the

177

44

Scene, a beautiful

interesting

153

Widder Westbrook

147

190

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Wife, the influence of a

71, 158

39

Schools and Teachers

Niles, J. M., remarks of

85

-- selling a

150

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Will, duty of making a

194

P.

-, a dinner before

85

Wine, American

9

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humbug, the

164

Papers, how read

190

taking of

172

Winsted, Scythe trade of

197

Parents, talk with your children

[blocks in formation]

199

Paris, American Marshal in

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Wolcott, Gov. and Uncle Dan

156

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Woman, her mission

16

37

Sell, another

203

-, a remarkable

199

Parliament, the British

155

Seminary, Troy, for sale

[blocks in formation]

111

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Sentiments, worthy

23

Woodsum, Seth's wife

36

Peru, rain in

70

of an old maid

23

Words, meaning of

8

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Wrong side outward

202

Pictou, at Waterloo

166

Senate, the State

70

Y.

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Yankee, at the Dutch Court

44

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and the Monks

158

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75

210

Shadforth, Col., letter of

158

America on their travels

218

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