Imagens das páginas

and then retire in frosted

the inr sir. The Captain of a schooner lying at one of our small sea-port towns, was anxious to get his craft into New York, thus early in the season. The mate and his two sons constituted the crew. The two sons had scarcely experienced any of the bitterness of sealife. Beyond fair breezes, or perhaps a summer's storm in the harbor of their native town, they knew not the hardships of the cold ocean wave. But strong in hope, and ambitious in their claims to manliness, they had insisted upon accompanying their father. The cold day closed in colder night, and the schooner was beating in swift tacks upon a North East wind. Through the long dark hours they still plunged on, while the piercing wind was checking gradually the full tide of vigorous lifeblood. At last, as the gray dawn of morning was breaking, and the light-house they had for hours eagerly sought was at hand, the strange spell of hope and excitement, which had so far sustained their courage and vitality, forsook them. The fluked anchor was dropped into the foaming waves, the frozen sails creaked wildly, as they dropped in wide folds toward the deck, and the faint and agonized cries of distress echoed in the mocking roar of the waves, as they broke against the shaggy rocks. But the voice of distress never met the ear of the gray-headed keeper of Plum Island lighthouse unanswered. With harried caution he has pushed forth in his light and buoyant boat and has reached the schooner. The sea has drowned the dull fire in the cabin stove, the decks are slippery with ice, but earnestly and eagerly the old man helps the captain and mate to the shore. There a warm fire relaxes their nnmb limbs.

But the old man's last errand to the anchored schooner is more sad. At the foot of the mast, clasped in each other's arms, and frozen to the deck, lie the two brothers, silent in the rigors of death. The spray, breaking constantly over the bows of the schooner, has settled upon them, and the heartless frost has turned it to ice. And there, sheeted in their icy casement, with the placid smile of dreamy unconsciousness resting upon them, in enchanted sleep, they had yielded life together to the storm-wind. Affection still played upon their features as the old man, himself wearied and benumbed, brought their lifeless bodies to their father. Casiabianca waited for the command of lips dumb alike to command and prayer, and the narrow deck and helpless voice of Captain H. forebade all hopes of preserving the lives of those sons, dearer than his own to his heart.

The old man first spoken of died in his own house, and amid worldly comforts, but he died roughly.

The brothers met death upon the mad wives and in the fierce fury of the wind, unprotected and comfortless, but they met it quietly and calmly in the over-zealous discharge of their duty, and the icy case, which covered their young countenances, seemed like tears dropped by the angel of mercy, which rough nature hardened. H.


doing Heae to Christmas.

A dozen friends at least, we shook hands with, whom we knew were "going home to Christmas," as we were elbowing our way through tho long train of cars uul of New York on Saturday afternoon, vainly trying to get a seat; and us wo recognized one after another, each face seemed to be the mirror of a merry heart; all smiles and happiness, and all were going to u merry Christmas. All did we say? no not all. One there was whose dark habiliments told of sorrow, whose face like the oth

ers was ■ mirror of her heart, bnt alas, the imago was Sadness. She smiled mournfully, and we had not the courage to ask if she were "going home to Christmas," for we knew memory was busy with her, calling up remembrances of days long since gone by, when a mother's eye beamed proudly on her; when a mother's heart beat warmly; when a mother's voice fell sweetly on her ear. Becollection led her on through years of childhood-happiness to the day when she met bim she loved, and bow that mother smiled and blessed her child when she heard her simple story—and then to the time when she stood at the altar and plighted her troth to the chosen of her heart. Her mother was there and smiling through her tears gave her parting benediction to her beloved daughter—and then to that fearful night when her darling boy grew cold in death; when the cheek paled, the brow became as marble, the little hands stiffened, the young heart ceased to beat, and her idol was gone forever. Her mother was by her side to comfort and to cheer, to bid her cast her sorrows on Him who "chastens those he loves." And then last Christmas: father, mother, children and grand-children gathered around the festive board with light hearts and happy faces, making the house ring with their joyousness; that was indeed a merry time. Once since that day the children have come home, not to laugh and be happy, but to follow that dear good mother to the silent And now the father is alone, will he as the

Saviour's natal day, wish them all a merry Christmas T «■

We love to study physiognomy, and as we went on through the next car we saw many happy and a few sad faces. One friend we met whose countenance did not tell all that was in his heart. He looked pleasant, but if we had not known him we should have been at a lose to read where he was going and for what. Away from his own home he was bound to the home of her he loved; be would surely have a merry Christmas,—so we wished him one, and passed ou, looking still for a seat.

In the next car we saw a man that it did us good to look at; one well known to many, and whose name holds a high position on the scroll of fame; whose magic powers of eloquence have electrified thousands, and astonished multitudes, and who was but now returning from a gathering of the great, where be had nobly represented "the greatest little State in all creation." He too was "going home to Christmas"; our heart wished him many merry ones, and prayed that we might live to see the day when his name could be added to the number of those, none of whom "were slaves to a king and traitors to Liberty."

We passed on through several cars, and as we stopped at the stove in one, we noticed a young man whose face showed that a great struggle was going on in his heart. A fine open countenance he must have once had, but now the blood shot and sunken eye and the sallow checks, told loo plainly that dissipation bad well nigh done its work. His lips would quiver and his brow lower as he sat thinking of his past life—Aw face was the mirror of his hea and the image was Repentan happy one, and he was now , his sins came up in dark array before him; as hours spent in revelling and debauchery were recalled, his soul was filled with heaviness. The struggle seemed to be still going on—when as wo watched him his lips assumed a determined look, his eyes brightened—he had resolved henceforth to do right. He recognized us, and as his hand pressed ours there was a warmth mid cordiality in the salutation which, though he spoke no word, told volumes. God grant bim strength to keep bis good resolutions, and this

— — — b

is the mirror of his heart ance. His home wasa ; An his way to it, burhs

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The Yoaag Fhllosopber.


Mr. 8olomon Winthrop was a plain old farmer— an austere, precise man, who did everything by ei tablished rules, and could see no reason why peop] should grasp at things beyond what had bee; reached by their great grandfathers. He had thre? children—two boys and a girl. There was Jerc miab, seventeen years old,Samuel, fifteen,and Far ny, thirteen.

It was a cold, winter's day. 8amuel was in tfa kitchen, reading a book, and so interested was Vi that be did not notice the entrance of his father.— Jeremiah was in an opposite corner, engaged in c phering out a sum which be had found in his arith metic.

"Sam," said the farmer to his youngest bo\ "have you worked out that snm yett" "No sir," returned the boy, in a hesitating man


"Didn't I tell you to stick to your arithmetic til

you had done it?" uttered Mr. Winthrop in a sever'

tone. •

8amuel hung down his head, and looked troubled "Why havn't you done it T" continued the father "I can't do it. sir," tremblingly returned the boy "Can't do it? And why1'not 1 Look at Jerry

there, with his slate and arithmetic. He had ci

pbered further than you have long before he wa

as old as you are." "Jerry was always fond of mathematical prob

lems, sir, but I cannot fasten my mind on f

They have no interest to me."

"That's because yon don't try to feel an i

in your studies. What book is that you art


"It's a work on philosophy, sir."

"A work on fiddle-sticks! Go, pnt it away thi instant, and then get your slate, and don't let me ae you away from your arithmetic again until you ra work out these roots. Do yon understand roe T"

Samuel made no answer, but silently he put a wu his philosophy, and then he got his slate and Sh down in the chimney corner. His nether lip tren bled, and his eyes were moistened, for he was m happy. His father bad been harsh towards hi a and he felt that it was without a cause.

"Sam," said Jerry, as soon as the old man ha gone, " I will do that sum for you."

•' No, Jerry," returned the younger brother, bj with a grateful look, " that would be deceiving fi ther. I will try to do the sum, though I fear I slia not succeed."

Samuel worked very bard, but all to no purpoo His mind was not on tbo subject before him. T| roots and squares, the bases, hypothenuses and p pendiculara, though comparatively simple in the selves, were to bim a mingled mass of incomp hensible things, and the more ho tried the more be become perplexed and bothered. The tru was, his father'did not understand him.

Samuel was a bright buy, and uncommonly in t ligent for one of his age. Mr. Winthrop was thorough mathematician—he never yet came acr a problem be could not solve, and he desired his boys should be like him, for he conceived the acme of educational perfection lay iu the po of conquering Euclid, and he often expressed opinion that, were Euclid living then, he c> "give the old geometrician a hard tussel." seemed not to comprehend that different nr.. were made with diflereut capacities, and that wl oue mind grasped with ease, another of equal er would fail to comprehend. Hence, because emiuh progressed rapidly in his mathematical stl ics, and could already survey a piece of la many angles, be imagined that because 8a. made uu progress iu toe same branch he was and careless, and treated him accordingly never caudidly conversed with his younger I with a view to ascertain the true bent of his

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.: be bad bis own standard of the power of all pads, and he pertinaciously adhered to it. Tbere was another thiug that Mr. Winthrop could r", see, and that was, that 8amuel was continually '•sdering npon such profitable matter as interested - and that he was scarcely ever idle; nor did a father tee, either, that if he ever wished his boy . wcome 1 mathematician, he was pursuing the ?rr course to prevent such a result. Instead of •savoring to make the study interesting to the aiid, be wna making it obnoxious. The dinner boar came, and Samuel had not work"1 out the sum. His father was angry, and obliged s» boy to go without his dinner, at the same time s.'inr him that be was an idle, lazy child.

Poor Samuel left the kitchen and went up to hia snrober, and there he sat and cried. At length hia aiod seemed to pass from the wrong be had suffered at the hand of his parent, and took another am. and the grief marks left his face. There was i large fire in the room below his chamber, so that u was not very cold; and getting up, he went to a sail closet, and from beneath H lot of old clothes a drsgged forth some long strips of wood, and ^mmenced whittling. It was not for mere pastime ■iat be whittled, for he was fashioning some curi'3! affair from those pieces of wood. He had bit* "i wire, little scraps of tin plate, pieces of twine, r>9 dozens of small wbeela that be had made himtt'.i, and be teemed to be working to get them towher after tome peculiar fashion of bis own.

Half the afternoon had thus passed away, when tt» lister entered bis chamber. She had her apron fathered np in her hand, and after closing the door lofily behind her, she approached the spot where tit brother sat.

'Here,Sammy—see. I have brought you someihing to eat I know you'must be hungry.'

As she spoke, she opened her apron and took out frar cakes and a piece of pie and cheese. The boy was hungry, and he hesitated not to avail himself of his lister's kind offer. He kissed her as he took the cake, and thanked her.

Ob, what a pretty thing that is you are making!' ottered Fannj, as she gazed upon the result of her brother's labors. 'Won't you give it to me after it u done)'

'Not this one, sister,' returned the boy, with a (mile; 'but as soon as I get time I will make you one equally as pretty.'

Fanny thanked her brother, and shortly afterwards left the room, and the boy resumed bit work.

At tbe end of the week, the various materials 'tut had been subject to Samuel's jack-knife and pincers bad assumed form and comeliness, and they were jointed and grooved together in a curious


Theembryo philosopher set the machine—for it lotted much like a machine—up on the floor, and totoitood off and gazed upon it. Hia eyes gleamed with a peculiar glow of satisfaction, and he looked proud and happy. While he yet stood and gazed upon the child of his labors, the door of his chanter opened and his father entered.

'What—are you not studying?' exclaimed Mr. *inthrop, as he noticed the boy standing in the oiddle of the floor.

Samuel trembled when he heard his father's voice, ^ be turned pale with fear.

Ha, what is this?' said Mr. Winthrop, as be wight tight of the curious construction on the floor. 'Tbii it the secret of your idleness. Now I see how 1 » that you cannot master your studies. You ipeod joar time in making playhouses and fly-pent. Ill see whether yon'll learn to attend to your les«w or not. There.'

As tbe father uttered that common injunction, be paced bis foot upon the object of his displeasure boy uttered a qnick cry, and sprang forward, -:»«o late.—The curious construction was crushed glioma—the labor of long weeks was utterly gone, ■war) gazed for a moment upon the mass of ruins, then, covering his face with his hands, he burst

a<» letnr.

Ain't yon ashamed V said Mr. Winthrop; 'a P*t boy like you to spend your time on fifth clapkpti and then cry abont it, because 1 chose that rrathonld attend to your studies. Now go out to *"birn and help Jerry shell corn.' 1 Tkeooy was too full of grief to make any explaand without a word he left his chamber; ->' for long days afterwards be was sad and down

'Samuel,' said Mr. Winthrop one day after the spring had opened. 'I have seen Mr. Young, and he is willing to take you as an apprentice. Jerry and I can get along on the farm, and I think the best thing you can do is to learn the blacksmith's trade. I have given np all hopes of ever making a surveyor out of you, and if you had a farm yon wonld not know how to measure it or to lay it out. Jerry will now soon be able to take my place as surveyor, and I have already made arrangements for having him sworn and obtaining his commission. But your trade Is a good one, however, and I have no doubt you will be able to make a living at it'

Mr. Young was a blacksmith in a neighboring town, and he carried on quite an extensive business, and moreover, he bad the reputation of being a fine man. Samuel was delighted with hit father's proposals, and when he learned that Mr. Young also carried on quite a large machine shop he waa in ecstacies. His trunk was packed—a good supply of clothes having been provided; and after kissing his mother and sister, and shaking hands with his father and brother he mounted the stage and set off for his new destination.

He found Mr. Young all he could wish, and went into his business with an assiduity that surprised his master. One evening, after Samuel Wiuthrop had been with his new matter six months, the latter came into the shop after nil the journeymen had quit work and gone home, and found the youth busily engaged in filing a piece of iron. There were quite a number of pieces lying on the bench by his side, and some were curiously riveted together and fixed with springs and slides, while others appeared not yet ready for their destined use. Mr. Young ascertained what the young workman was up to, and he not only encouraged him in hit undertaking, but be stood for half an hour and watched him at hit work. The next day Samuel Winthrop was removed from the blacksmith's shop to the machine shop.

Samuel often visited his parents. At the end of two years his father was not a little surprised when Mr. Young informed bim that Samuel was the most useful hand in bit employ.

Time flew fast. Samuel was twenty-one. Jeremiah had been free almost two years, and he was one of the mott accurate and trustworthy surveyors in the country.

Mr. Winthrop looked upon his eldest son with pride, and often expressed a wish that his other son could have been like bim. Samuel had come home to visit bis parents, and Mr. Young had come with him.

'Mr. Young,' said Mr. Winthrop, after the tea things bad been cleared away, 'that is a fine factory they have erected in your town.'

'Yes,' returned Mr. Young, 'there are three of them, and they are doing a heavy business.'

'I understand they have an extensive machine shop connected with the factories. Now, if my boy Sam it as good a workman as you say he is, perhaps he might get a first rate situation there.'

Mr, Young looked at Samuel and smiled.

'By the way,' continued the old farmer,' what is all tbit noite I hear and see in the newspapers about* those patent Winthrop looms? They tell me they go ahead of any thing that ever was got up before.'

'You must ask your son about that, returned Mr. Young. 'That's some of Samuel's business.'

•Eh? What? My son? Some of Sam —'

The old man stopped short and gazed at his son. He was bewildered. It could not be that hia son— hia idle son—was the inventor of the great power loom that had taken all the manufacturers by surprise.

'What do you mean ?' he at length asked.

'It is simply this, father, that this loom is mine,' returned 8amuel, with a look of conscious pride — 'I have invented it, and have taken a patent right, and have already been offered ten thousand dollars for the patent right in two adjoining States. Don't yon remember that clap-trap you crushed with your foot six years ago?'

'Yes,' answered the old man, whose eyes were bent to the floor, and over whose mind a new light seemed to be breaking.

'Well,' enntinned Samnel,' that was almost a pattern of the very loom I have set up in the factories, though of course, I have made much alteration and improvement anil there is room for improvement yet.'

'And that was what you were studying when you used to stand and see me weave, ami when you

used to fumble about my loom so much V said Mrt Winthrop.

'You are right mother. Even then I had conceived the idea I have aince carried out.'

'And that is why you could not understand my mathematical problems,' uttered Mr. Winthrop, at he ttarted from hia chair and took the youth by the hand.

'Samuel, my ton, forgive me for tbe harahness I have used towards yon. I have been blind, and now see how I misunderstood you. While I have thought you were idle and careless, you were solving a philosophical problem that I could never have comprehended. Forgive me Samuel,—I meant well enough, but I lacked judgment and discrimination.'

Of course the old man bad long before been forgiven for his harshness, and his mind was open to a new lesson in human nature. It was simply this:

Different minds have different capacities, and no mind can ever be driven to love that for which it has no taste. First, seek to understand tbe natural abilities and dispositions of children, and then in your management of their education for after life, govern yourself accordingly. George Oombe, the greatest moral philosopher of this day, could hardly reckon in simple addition, and Colbom, the mathematician, could not write out a common place address.

From the Wine Prttt.

Journey around the Tapioca Podding.

Dr. Buthwhacker folded his napkin, drew it through the silver ring, laid it on the table, folded his arms, and leaned back in his chair, by whioh we knew there was something at work in hia knowledge-box. 'My dear Madam,' said he, with a Metnmora shake of the head, 'there are great many things to be said about that pudding.'

Now, such a remark at a season of the year when eggs are five for a shilling, and not always fresh at that, is enough to discomfort any body. Tbe Doctor perceived it at once, and instantly added, 'In a geographical point of view, there are many things to be said about the pudding. My dear madam,' he continued, 'fake tapioca itself, what is it, and where does it come from?'

Our eldest boy, just emerging from cbickenhood, answered, '85 Chambers street, two doors below the Irving House.'

'True, my dear young friend,' responded the Doc tor, with a friendly pat on the head; 'but that it not what I mean. Where,' he repeated, with a questioning look through his spectacles, and a Bushwhackian nod, 'does tapioca come from V

'Rio de Janeiro and Para!'

'Yes, sir; from Bio de Janeiro in the southern, and Para in the northern part of the Brazils, do we get our tapioca; from the roots called the Mandioca, botanically, the Jatropha Mauihot, or, as they say, tbe Cassava. The roots are long and round, like a sweet potato; generally a foot or more in length. Every joint of the plant will produce its roots like the cuttings of grape-vine.— The tubers are dug up from the ground, peeled, scraped, or grated, then put in long sacks of flexible rattan; sacks, six feet long or more, and at the bottom of the sack they suspend a larger stone, by which the flexible sides are contracted, and then out pout s the cassava-juice in a pan placed below to receive it. This juice is poisonous, and very volatile. Then, my dear madam, it is macerated in water, and the residium, after the volatile part, the

fioison. is evaporated, it tho innocuous farina, which ooks like small crumbs of bread, and which we call tapioca. The best kind of tapioca comes from Rio, which is, I believe, about five thousand five hundred miles from New York; so we must put down that as a little more than one fifth of our voyage around the pudding.'

This made our eldest open his eyea. 'Eggs and milk." continued Dr. Bushwhacker, 'are home productions: but sugar, refined sugar, it made partly of the moist and sweet yellow sugar of Louisiana, partly of the hard and dry sugar of the . West Indies; I will not go into ihe process of refining sugar now, but I may observe here that the sugar we get from Louisiana, if refined and made into a loaf, would be quite soft, with large louse crystals, while the Havana sugar, subjected to the same treatment, would moke a white cone almost as compact and hard as granite. But we have made a trip to the Antilles for our sugar, and so you may add fifteen hundred miles more fur the saccharine/

'That ii equal to nearly one third of the circumference of the pudding we live upon, Doctor.'

'Vanilla,' continued the Doctor, "with which this pudding is so delightfully flavored, ia the bean of a vine that grows wild in the multitudinous forests of Venezuela, New Granada, Guiana, and, in fact, throughout South America. The long pod, which looks like the scabbard of a sword, suggested the name to the Spaniards; vayna meaning scabbard, from which comes the diminutive vanilla, or little scabbard—appropriate enough, as every one will allow. These beans, which are worth here from six to twenty dollars a pound, could be as easily cultivated as hops in that climate; but the indolence of the people is so great, that not one Venezuelian has been found with sufficient enterprise to set out one acre of vanilla, which would yield him a small fortune every year. No, sir. The poor peons or peasants, raise their garabanzas for daily use, but beyond that they never look. They plant their crops in the footsteps of their ancestors, aud if it bad not been for their ancestors, they would probably have browsed on the wild grass of the llanos or plains. Ah' there are a great many such bobs hanging at the tail of some ancestral kite, even in this great city, my dear, learned friends.' 'True, Doctor, you are right there.' 'Well, sir, the vanilla is gathered from ihe wild vines in the woods. Off goes the hidalgn. proud of his noble ancestry, and toils home under a back-load of the refuse beans from the trees, after the red monkey has had his pick of the best. A few reals pay him for the day's work, and then, hey for the cock-pit! There, Signer O d'ngie meets the Marquis de Sbinplaster, or the Padre Corcorochi, and of course sets whistled earnings with the first click of the pulls. Then back he goes to bis miserable hammock, and so ends his year's labor. That, sir, is the history of Ihe flavoring, and you will have to allow a stretch across the Carribean, and twentyfive hundred miles, for the vanilla.'

'We are getting pretty well around, Doctor.' 'Then we have sauce, here, wine-sauce; TenerifFe, I should say, by the flavor.'

11 from beneath the cliff

Of sunny-aide Teneriffe
And ripened in the blink
Of India's sun."

We must take four thousand miles at least for the wine, my learned friend, and say nothing of the rest of the sauce.'

'Except the nutmeg, Doctor.'

'Thank you, my dear young friend, thank you. The nutmeg! To Spice Islands in the Indiau Ocean we are indebted for our nutmegs. Our old original Knickerbockers, the web footed Dutchmen, have the monopoly of this trade. Every nutmeg has paid toll at Ihe Hague before it yields its aroma to our graters. The Spice Islands! The almost fabulous Moluccas, where neither corn nor rice will grow; where the only quadrupeds they have are the musky crocodiles that bathe in the high-seasoned waters. The Moluccas

"the isles Of TYrnate and Tldore, whence merchants bring Their Spicy drugs." There, sir! Milton, sir! From Ternate and Tidore and the rest of that marvellous cluster of islands, we get our nutmegs, our mace, and our cloves. Add twelve thousand miles at least lo the circumference of the pudding for the nutmeg.'

'This is getting to be a pretty large pudding, Doctor.'

'Yes, sir. We have travelled already twentyfive thousand five hundred miles around it. and now let us re-circumnavigate and come back by the way of Mexico, so tbaf we can get a silver spoon, and penetrate into the interior.

k Tall Singer, or flic Power of Music.

We were seated in the cabin of a river steamboat. There was a large number of passengers, wbo seemed desirous of beguiling away the tedium of the trip by contributing something to the general amusement.

Among the passengers was one long, lank specimen whom no one could fail to recognize as a Yankee. He sat apart from all the ie*t, notwithstanding, while the siugulurily of his appearance did not fail to. draw many curious eyes towards him.

At length, when all the resources of the company seemed exhausted, one of them turned dubiously to

our Yankee, and politely requested him to favor the company with a song.

'A song I' echoed he, looking up.

'Yes sir, you sing, do you not V

'I did once,' replfed be, 'and I may add, it saved my life.'

'Saved your life!'

All were eager to hear how this could be, and after some little urging, the stranger consented lo gratify tbem.

'You must know,' said he, 'that I was one of the first to go to California when the report first reached us at home of its stores of gold. It was nothing then to what it ia now—a perfect waste in fact, with hardly a mark of civilization, where now you can see flourishing towns numbering their thousands of inhabitants.'

'Being fond of adventure, I separated from my company and determined to find my way to the 'diggings myself. One night I found myself lying on the grass with my pack for my pillow, just on the edge of a large forest. It did not enter into my head to be afraid until it became somewhat dark, and I heard with a fearful distinctness the cry of the prairie wolf. I listened again, and was alarmed to find the cry coniiug nearer. Evidently they scented me.'

'At length a whole pack of blood thirsty rascals came bounding on till they camo within a huudred yards of me, and then they stood stock still, and then begau to draw nearer.'

'My hair rose ou end. 1 was terribly alarmed; I endeavored to think of some possible way of scaring tbem. Having heard that they were terrified by fire, I lighted a match. They drew off a little, but immediately retraced their steps. This movement was repeated ou both sides. I found this would never do, I must think of something more decisive. But what 7'

'I recollected having in my youth attended a singing school for the space of two evenings, during which I received some indistinct notions of the manner of singing 'Old Hundred.' That recollection saved me.'

Without more ado, I began, and did as well as I could. By the time I had got through the first line, I observed that the wolves began to look a little wild and uneasy, and—will you believe it, gentlemen V said the narrator earnestly—'before I finished, every individual wolf, putting his fore paws up to his ears, scampered away as if old Jack was after him I'

A shout of laughter both loud aud long, followed this narrative, at the end of which the speaker, who had not stirred a muscle, gravely conliuued:

'You see, gentlemen, I have been frank with you; I did not wish to take advantage of your very kind and complimentary invitation without forewarning you of the consequence. If, after what I have told you, you are still desirous of hearing me, I will endeavor to give you 'Old Hundred,' which is the only song I know, and to which, for reasons already given, I feel uncommonly attached.'

After that story, he was unanimously excused.

Three Winter Delusions.

A writer in the columns of the Boston Transcript makes some suggestions of general interest. He says:—

"As a man is not furnished with.down or fine fur on bis skin, it is wise in cold weather, and our variable climate, that his clothing next to the body should be in imitation of that which God has provided for the most houseless animals. Weight and thickness are not the important considerations in selecting a material from which to make this compensating protection. A non-conducting character in regard to heat is the essential thing. Wool or silk cloth of auy kind is suitable for under shirts and drawers, because they do not readily conduct off the heat generated within the body. On the other hand cotton cloth is comparatively a good conductor, and is not materially rendered otherwise by scratching up a nap on one side of it and call it coltou flannel. Hence it is a delusion to rely on this cheap substitute for under garments—a delusion about as unwise as reliance on, a policy from some modern insurance companies, because called such by name. . It is a delusion to attribute the increasing number of weak eyes in the community to a supposed unusual demand upon these organs for nice work, or modern systems of education. Neither thorough

lessons, nor fine sewing are new things; aud midnight oil was familiarly known to past generations of men and women who used their eyes as much to the purpose as young folks do. The causes of this growing affliction are to be looked for in the use and abuse of honse furnaces—the abuse of flaring gas in excessive quantity—the increased facilities for having hot water constantly at hand, and a hydrophobia for that which is cold—ill-timed assemblies which run one day into another and rob botb, at the time when the functions of body and mind are weary, and need rest, &c, &c.

It is a delusion to suppose that evaporating water in furnaces restores the air to its original salubrity. The air is made bad not simply by drying up it* moisture within the furnace, but by decomposing it chemically as it conies in contact with the red hot iron. This has beeu completely demonstrated by collecting in a close vessel atmosphere which has passed through a heated cylinder of iron, and when sufficiently cool immersing a healthy animal in it.— Violent convulsions followed such immersion. Adding moisture to such air does not re-constitute it. Fine particles of vegetable dust are also brought in with the atmosphere, and likewise decomposed, and add to the impurity of the heated air. A good furnace requires nothing but an abundance of atmosphere, and if it cannot be used comfortably without, it should be discarded. Richard Po

The Emperor of Russia.

The following biographical details of the family of the Emperor of Russia may not be without interest:

Nicholas I., (Pawlovitsch) Emperor of all the Russias, was born the 7th of July, 1796; his age is therefore 58 years and 4 mouths; he succeeded hia brother, the Emperor Alexander, the 1st December. 1825. He is tbe dean of sovereigns as regards the length of his reign, which has now lasted 29 years. He was married the 15th of July, 1817, to the Princess Alexandra Feodorowna, daughter of tbe deceased King of Prussia, Frederick William III.— The Empress is aged 56 years and 4 months. She is tbe sister of the Kiug of Prussia, and this relationship is one of of the most active causea in the vascillalions of the court of Berlin, for dynastic alliances yet exercise great power in Europe.

Six children have been tbe issue of this marriage. 1. The Grand Duke Alexander, heir to the crown, aged 36 years, seven months and a half. 2. Tbe Grand DucheBs Marie, aged 35 years and 4 month*. 3. The Grand Duchess Olga, aged 34 years and 2 monlhB. 4. The Grand Duke Constantino, aged 27 years and 2 mouths. 5. The Grand Duke Nicholas, uged 23 years aud 3 months. 6. The Grand Duke Michael, aged 22 years and 15 days.

The Grand Duke Alexander, heir presumptive, was married in 1841 to the Princess Marie, daughter of tbe deceased Louis II., Grand Duke of Hesse. He has four children, all boys.

The Grand Duchess Marie, widow of the Duke of Leutchtenberg, has one son, aged 2 years.

The Grand Duchess Olga is married to Charles Frederick Alexander, Prince Royal of Wurtemberg; without children.

The Grand Duke Constantine is married to the Princess Alexandra Josefowua, daughter of the Duke Joseph of Saxony. They have two children, Nicholas and Olga.

Thus the imperial family is composed of 18 persous, 12 Princes aud 6 Princesses. The Czar hat 4 sons and 2 daughters, 2 daughters-in-law and 1 sonin-law, 6 grand-sons and 1 grand-daughter.

The two youngest sons of the Emperor, Nicbnlls and Michael, have just joined the army in tbe Crimea, and it was their presence which gave such enthusiasm to the Russian troops in the bloody day of the 5th before Sebastopol—a day that will long be remembered by the allied army as one on which, perhaps for tbe first time, Russian arms proved equal to their own. Botb these sons of tbe Czar hold several high military titles in the army.

Theswit of conversation consists more in finding it iu others, than in showing a great deal yourself; he who goes from your conversation pleased with himself aud hia own art, is perfectly well pleased with you. Most men had rather please than admire you. and look up to be instructed, nay, diverted, rather thau approved and applauded ; and li e moat delicate of pleasures is to please another.

Wbtl li a mole Rifle?

Every account received from the war in the Crimea ia loud in praise of the "Minie Rifle."

These fire-arms iu the hands of good marksmen deal certain destruction at an immense distance, ad the wholesale slaughter of the Russian gunners it the batteries of Sevastopol, has won for this «apon of death the sobriquet of "King of Fire Anns." So dreaded is this fatal ball that a Russian janneT goes lo his station at an embrasure as to certain death.

The barrel of a rifle has, running the length of IU inner surface, spiral grooves or channels—hence the name of rifle, which means a rifled or grooved (30. The object of a rifled barrel is to give greater precision to the ball, by communicating to it a rotary motion. This motion it receives on iu passire oat of the gun, provided the ball is so crowded l\a the barrel aa to fill np partially or entirely the (rooves; and the more perfectly the ball fits into ie barrel the truer its coarse, and the less windage '.here is; that is, the less space there is between the ball sod barrel for the strength of the powder to escape. It is estimated that when the windage is only 120th of the calibre of the gun, one-third of the powder escapes and of course iu strength is lost.

The great object therefore to be obtained, is a perfect fit to the barrel by the ball, thus to give the rotary motion, and to save the powder.

A French gunsmith invented a rifle which had its breech pin project wedge shaped, about two inches into the barrel. The ball, a conical shaped one, was [hen dropped into the barrel,and a few heavy blows by the hammer, drove the wedge or pin into the hall so as to fill the grooves in the barrel.

The minie ball, now so famous,is an Improvement jpon ill balls.inasmuch as it makes the powder sing o spread the ball, instead of the rammer doing that work.

The ball is oblong with a conical point. In iu base it has a conical hollow running half or twothirds the length of the ball. A cup made of sheet iron is placed in the orifice of this hollow, which at the instant of firing is driven by the powder with rreat force into the ball, thns spreading it open, so a: iu iu course out,to perfectly slug or nil the grooved barrel. This accomplishes the whole object; it tares time in ramming, it destroys windage, thus ecoDomising in powder,and makes the ball perfectly fit the barrel so as to give the ball a complete rotary

, and certainty of direction. Thus the Minie improvement—taking its name from a French officer named Minie—is a minie ball, not a minie rifle. The conical shape of the bullet gives it greater weight of metal than a round one, affords less resistance to tite air, and greatly increases the distance it can be thrown. This shaped ball, however, has been used for a long time by sportsmen.'

A Pana correspondent of the New York Tribune, fome montba since, was witness to experiments made by Major Minie himself, with his ball, and taw that officer plant three balls in succession in a target the size of a man's bat at a distance of threefourths of a mile. And this officer said he could do it all day long, and teach any other man to do so.

It is not to be wondered at that the Russians have t horror of the French chasseurs and their Minie ban.

The present popularity of the rifle owes iu ori{ia to the skill of American sharp shooters, bred t>d trained in our new settlements, and who, in oct Indian and other wars, have shown the efficiency of the rifle ball in picking off officers, gunners and prominent objecU: but its perfection, we imagine, has been accomplished in the hands of the French.—Cleveland Herald.

Death by Lightning.

A late number of the London Atheneeum contains '■be following summary of the result of a number of starvations on the effects of lightning strokes upon toman beings:

The French Academy of Sciences have received »me interesting observations on the effects of the •tghtning stroke upon human beings. The following jjett sre the result of patient observations made by M-Boudin, chief surgeon to the Hospital du Boule To« number of people jearly struck by lightnin


'"than 1308, the number struck, 'hoot tine to esse of the number

in led is no tally

number struck there were nearly three men to one woman. The region where the lightning had beeu most fatal is the central plateau of France, comprising the departments of Cantal, Fuy-de-Dome, and other departments which are mountainous or present elevated ground. The months during which people are less exposed to the fatal effects of lightning are the coldest months of the year, viz: November, December, January and February. Out of 103 people struck, 4 were struck in March, 6 iu April, 8 in May, 22 iu June, 13 in July, 19 in August, 14 in September, and IS in October. One fourth of the people who have been struck may trace the misfortune to their own imprudence, in taking shelter under trees, which attract electric fluid. The greatest number of people killed by a single flash of lightning does not exceed eight or nine.

M. Boudin called attention to two curious facts iu connection with this subject. The first was, that dead men struck by lightning had been found iu exactly the upright position they held when killed; the second was, that other bodies bore upon them faint impressious of outward objects, probably somewhat resembling photographic shadows. Animals, however, are much more exposed to the influences of lightning than men; and sutler more by its destructive properties. More than once a single flash of lightning has destroyed an entire flock of sheep, and, according to M. D'Abbadie, flocks of 2000 in Ethiopia. The fires occasioned by lightning have amounted to eight in one week in the departments of La Meuse, Moselle, Menrthe, and Vosges. The little kingdom of Wirtemburg suffered by 117 fires in nine years, so caused. Before the application of lightning conductors, English ships experienced losses annually by the electric fluid estimated at from £1000 to £ 1400, but since their application, such losses are no longer heard of, although some pretend to deny the efficacy of the lightning rod.

Strange Barometrical Revelations.

A chemist of St. Brienne, France, recently addressed the French Minister of War a communication,' dated Oct. 27th, giving the results of a series of experiments instituted by him on the modifications which the atmosphere experiences from the effects of the tremendous cannonades that take place in the Crimea. The facU presented by him are singular and full of interest. They represent the com

Earative effects of the cannonades of Odessa, of the attle of the Alma, of the day of the 6th October, (cannon fired at the Invalides, Paris,) of the opening of the bombardment of Sebastopol, and of the 25th of October. By these he hopes to establish the fact that the barometer is not, as is commonly supposed, an instrument merely intended to indicate rain and fine weather, but a model apparatus excessively sensitive, Which indicates all great atmospherical phenomenon.

He says what is remarkable is, that at from 600 to 800 leagues of distance an impression is produced on the barometer in a few hours, by the discbarge of cannon! Thus it may become, in times of war, and under scientific management, of the highest utility.

The object M. Le. Maout had was this:—That he was enabled to announce to the Minister of War, by baromotrical observations made by him, that on the 25th October a terrific cannonade took place in the Crimea, far exceeding any thing that had proceeded it since the Allies landed. This was within two days of the 25th, and therefore, before any communication of the fact could possibly have been received by him. On that day the affair at Balaklava took place!! The information contained in this curious communication was soon after; officially made known to the Minister of War! , '•

When will wonders cease 7 The barometer outstrips the magnetic telegraph in the conveyance of intelligence!.'

M. Le Maout transmitted with bis letter tables, diagrams, &c, indicating the peculiar changes observed by him on the occasions referred to. His observations were taken once in every three hours.

Albany Register.

Buss, to kiss; rebuss, to kiss again; pluribus, to kiss without regard to sex; sillabus, the hand instead of the lips; blunderbuss, to kiss the wrong person; omnibus, to kiss all the persons in the room. erebus, to kiss in the dark, buss the boiler, to kiss the cook.'

Ups Amd Downs.—The sojourners at our city hotels are familiar with the modest tone in which the words 'New York Herald,' 'Tribune,' 'Times,' 'Baltimore Sun,' 'Intelligencer,' 'Union,' &c, fall upon their ears from a respectable elderly gentleman in the newspaper line. At break of day you may find him at the railroad depot, with his bundle of these 'maps of fcusy life;' at breakfast time he is at the hotels ready to exchange his commodities for ready cash; and again as midnight draws near you will still find him punning the even tenor of his way, pressing his sales. We have observed him for many years going regularly through this routine. Many wonder if he ever sleeps. If 'eternal vigilance u the price of liberty,' he is entitled to the largest that may be had. A curiosity is often manifested to know his history. Some say that he has by dint of such untiring industry and perseverance laid up something handsome for a 'rainy day.'

One morning, as the Hon. Lewis D. Campbell, of Ohio, was passing from the breakfast room at the 'National,' with his morning mail, this veteran newsvender met him at the foot of the flight of steps near the office. His eye caught the title'Cincinnati Gazette' to a paper in Mr. C.'s hand, and with a peculiar expression he remarked—

'Ah, the old Cincinnati Gazette!'

Mr. Campbell baited, observing, 'You have it not in your package V

'No; bat I took it once.'

Mr. Campbell. 'When?'

'In 1828, when Charles Hammond was editor, and I was in the firm of Oarrington & Wells, wholesale merchants, Main street, Cincinnati t

Mr. Campbell. 'I recollect the firm, for I was then a printer's boy in the Gazette office, and faithfully through the wintry storms carried the paper to you.—We are the living monumenu of the 'ups and downs of life.'

Here a strange expression passed over the countenance of Wells, and Mr. C, fearing that he might awaken unpleasant reminiscences in connexion with his change of fortune, left, with a 'God give you success; your energy deserves it!'

How illustrative of the changes of fickle fortune! The carrier of the news of that day to the wholesale merchant, is now a member of the American Congress, and the wholesale merchant now carries the newspapers to him.—Nat. Intelligencer.

Force or Periodic Vibrations.—Many curious instances might be mentioned of the great effects produced by periodic vibrations. One of the most familiar, perhaps, is the well known result of marching a company of soldiers over a suspension bridge, when the latter, responsive to the measured step, begins to rise and fall with excessive violence, and, if the marching be still continued, most probably separates in two parU. More than one acoident has occurred in this way, and has led to the order, we believe, that soldiers, in passing these bridges, mutt not march, but simply walk out of time. Another curious effect of vibration in destroying tho cohesion of bodies is the rupture of drinking glasses by certain musical sounds. It is well known that most glass vessels of capacity, when struck, resound with a beautifully clear musical note of invariable and definite pitch, which may be called the peculiar note of the vessel. Now, if a violin, or other musical instrument be made to sound the same note, the vessel soon begins to respond, is thrown into vibrations, iu note grows loader and louder, and eventually may break. In order to insure the success of this experiment, the glass should be perfectly annealed. However, the tendency to break is invariably the same.—Polytechnic Magazine.

Sleet.—There is no better description given of the approach of sleep than in one of Leigh Hunt's papers: 'It is a delicious movement, certainly, that of being well nestled in bed, and feeling that you shall drop gently to sleep. The good is to come, not past; the limbs have been just tired enough to render the remaining in one position delightful; the labor of the day is done. A'gentle failure of the perceptions oreeps over you; the spirit of consciousness disengages itself more, and with slow and hushing degrees, like that of a mother detaching her band from that of her sleeping child, the mind seems to have a balmy lid closing over it like the eye—'tis closed. The mysterious spirit has tsken its airy rounds.'

Baron De Kalb, for the relief of whose heirs a bill is now pending before CoDgress, was one of the distinguished foreigners who fought for the American cause in the war of the Eevolution. He was a native of Germany, and was born about the year 1717. He entered the French army at an early age, and rose to the rank of a Brigadier General. He

i in this country during the French war of 1755, i f an assumed character, the object of his visit being to obtain intelligence fur the benefit of the French Cabinet. He was suspected and seized as a spy, but escaped aud returned to France after the conquest of Canada. He came to this country again in company with Lafayette, and entered our revolutionary army as a volunteer. He was soon promoted to the rank of Major General. The Washington Union, in referring to this bill in behalf of his heirs, remarks that there is something peculiarly interesting in a history of Baron de Kalb, and says: "He commanded the right wing of the American at Camden, South Carolina, and in that fearful

ct he fell, in his last attempt to achieve a victory, pierced with eleven wounds. He was rescued from immediate death by the Chevalier du Byssoa, his aid, who embraced the prostrate general, and received into bis own body the bayonets intended for bis friend, exclaiming, 'Save the Baron de Kalb; oh, save the Baron de Kalb.' The brave veteran survived the battle but a few days. Before his death be spoke these noble words: "I die the death I always prayed for—the death of a soldier fighting for the rights of man.' When General Washington visited Camden, many years after, he went to the grave of the German patriot. After gazing upon it with a countenance marked with deep thought, he exclaimed, with a sigh: 'So there lies the brave De Kalb; the generous stranger, who come from a distant land to fight our battles, and to water with his blood the tree of our liberty. Would to God he had lived to share its fruits!'"

: or Mr. Ohoate.—At the trial of the salvage case of the barque Missouri, at Boston, last week, the case in which a part of the cargo was embezzled by the masters of the two vessels on the coast of Sumatra, one of the masters was examined as a witness, and disclosed the plan of embezzlement, and stated the inducements that were offered to bim by the other masters. He said that be objected at first, and told his comrade they would be found out and convicted, but was overborne by the assurances given him. Mr. Cboate cross-examined him strictly and particularly as to what the inducements and assurances were. The witness had the appearance of holding back a little, but at last be said: "Well, air, he told me that if we were found out, he could get Mr. Cboate to defend us, and he would get us off if we were caught with the money in our boots." It was not five minutes nor ten minutes that it required to bring the audience back to a sober countenance. The counsel on the other side paid a tribute, in bis closing argument, to the genius of Mr. Ohoate, the fame of which, extending to the antipode, was relied upon as stronger than the law and the evidence.—N. Y. Evening Post.

Inkermanh.—lukcrmann, or the City of Caverns, stands on the great bay of Akbar, and was built by the Russians about the year 1790. The bay was called Sebastopol by the Russians during the reign of Catherine II. whence the name of the strong fort besieged by the Allies. The great harbor of Inkermanu, said to resemble that of Malta, is one of the finest in the world. It has a depth of water varying from 21 to 70 feet, in which the largest vessels can ride at a cable's length from the shore.— The old town of Inkermanu stood on the north of the harbor, but there are scarcely any vestiges of it remaining. The country surrounding Inkermann is the wonder of travellers. Here is truly a city of caverns, for the white rocks that overlook the bay of Akbar {while rocks) are full of excavations of a most extraordinary character. They consist ot chambers, with Gothic window*,cut ont of the solid stone. Near the harbor, the rocks are hewn into chapels, monasteries and sepulchres. They are considered by some authorities to have been the retreats of Christians in the early ages. There are several Grecian antiquities in the neighborhood of the ruined town, which travellers have endeavored to perpetuate and antiquarians to restore, but the

Something About Schools.—We know a man who last summer hired four colts pastured on a farm some five miles distant. At least once iu two weeks got into his wagon and drove over to see how his juvenile horses fared. He made minute inquiries of the keeper as to their health, their daily watering, &c.; he himself examined the oonditiou of the pasture; and when a dry season came on, bo made special arrangements to have a daily allowance of meal, and be was careful to kuow that this was regularly supplied.

The man bad four children attending a district school, kept in a small building erected at the cross roads. Around this building, on three sides, is a space of land six feet wide—the fourth is on a line with the-street. There is not an out-house or shade tree in sight of the building. Of the interior of the school house we need not speak. The single room is, like too many others, with all its apparatus arranged on the most approved plan for producing curved spines, compressed lungs, ill health, &c.

We wish to state one fact only: The owner of those colts, the father of those children, has never been into that school bouse to inquire as to the comfort, health, or mental food dealt out to his own offspring. The latter part of the summer we chanced to ask him, "who teaches your school?'' and the reply was, "I do not know, I believe her name is Parker; but / have no time to look after school s!"

Have the courage to do without that which you do not really need, however much you may covet it.

Have the conrsge to speak to a friend in a "seedy" coat, even though you are in company with • rich one, and richly attired. 'Have the courage to own you are poor, and thus disarm poverty of its sharpest sting.

Have the courage to make a will, and a just one.

Have the courage to tell a man why you will not lend your money.

Have the courage to obey yonr Maker at the risk of being ridiculed by man.

Have the courage to wear thick boots in winter, and insist upon your wife and daughters doing the same.

Have the courage to prefer comfort and propriety to fashion in all things.

Have the courage to acknowledge your ignorance rather than to seek credit for knowledge under* false pretences.

Have the courage to provide an entertainment for your friends, within your means—not beyond.

Have the courage to eat and drink sparingly and thus dupe the doctor.

The Meanins or Words.—Look not in the dictionary for the meaning of words. It is life that presents their significance to ns in all the vivid realities of experience. Does the young and joyous maiden know the meaning of sorrow, or the inexperienced youth understand the significance of business misery? Ask the hoary beaded debauchee' for the definition of remorse, and go to the bedside of the invalid for the proper understanding of health. Life, with its inner experience reveals to us the powerful force of words, and writes upon the tablet of our hearts the ineffaceable records of their meaning. Man is a dictionary, and human experience, after all, the great lexicographer— Hundreds go through life who do not understand the force of the most common terms i while to others their terrible significance comes borne like an electric flash, and sends a thrill to the remotest part of the system.—N. ¥. Sunday Times.

A Bio Ego.—At a recent sitting of the Paris Academy of Sciences, M. Geoffrey St. Hillaire gave an account of some portions of an egg of the Epyornis, the gigantic and very rare bird of Madagascar, which have recently been conveyed to France. These portions show, he stated, the egg to have been of such a size as to be capable of containing about 10 English quarts. The egg was considerably larger than that which now exists at the Museum of the Jardin des Plantes and which can only contain about 8) quarts. The learned naturalist also gave an account of his examination of some bones of the bird, which bad been presented to him; but some of them he was obliged to reject as doubtful, and the others were not sufficiently numerous to enable bim to state precisely the conformation of the bird: they, however, showed that it differs considerably from that of

Unhealthy Plastering.—A communication ixx the New York Journal of Commerce asserts that the bair used in plaster for new houses is, very frequently, so dirty as to emit unpleasant effluvia, which are quite sickening, and calculated to keep a. room unhealthy for years afterwards. The writer says: t'

"Hair used for mixing in mortar should be thoroughly washed, re-washed and dried, and thus deprived of the putrid matter that often adheres to it. The lime in mortar is not sufficient to cleanse the bair. It will generate an unpleasant, sickly effluvia whenever the room is heated, until, after a long time, the mortar is converted into nitrate of lime, or so much of it as is mixed with animal matter is incorporated in the mortar.

Adversity is not without its benefits; it is a necoe sary part of the discipline of life, aud tends to refine and purify the character. The poet of nature clearly observed this, and sung

Sweet are the uses of adversity.

In these hard times, let us learn lessons of wisdom from this faithful monitor; and while thus cherishing a patient and docile spirit, we shall find her strokes to fall, not as the lightnings upon the scathed tree, bruising and lacerating it yet more, but as the strokes of the sculptor upon the yielding

marble, fashioning it to forms of life and beauty.

Newark Advertiser.

Four Good Habits.—There were four good habits which a wise and good man earnestly recommended in his counsels and by his own example, and which he considered essentially necessary for the happy management of temporal concerns—these are punctuality, accuracy, steadiness, and dispatch. Without the first, time is wasted, those who rel.y on us are irritated and disappointed, and nothing is done in its proper time and place. Without th. e second, mistakes the most hurtful to our credit am <J interest, and that of othors, may be committed. Without the third, nothing can be well done without the fourth, opportunities of advantage i lost which it is impossible to recall.

Practice or Medicine.—There are times, unquestionably, when pills are good things; but generally, pillows are better. We are of opinion toast the former have often got not a little credit, which fairly belonged to the latter. When a man is ill, the doctor tells him to go to bed, and be contented; probably he gives him a little taste of physic; but quiet, a recumbent posture, and temporary abstinence are in very many cases the successful remedial agents after all. Giving pills is the way the doctor has of turning the key upon his patient, keeping him at home, opening bis body to healthy functions, and his mind to good advice.—Newark Advertiser.

If you would keep spring in your heart, learn to sing. There is more merit in melody thau people have an idea of. A cobbler who smooths his waxend with a song, will do as much work in a day as a cordwainer, given to "illnature and cursing," would effect in a week. Songs are like sunshine— they run to cheerfulness, and so fill the bosom with buoyancy that, for the time being, you feel like a yard of June, or a meadow full of bobolinks. Try it on.—Alb. Kniek.

In all your arguments, let your aim be to arrive at the truth; it is a paltry conquest to silence by hard words.

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