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fjM jy\ DEVOTED T VOLUME I. THE j t LANCASTER LEDGERj I IS PUBLISHED EVERY t WEDNESDAY MORNING. s i ir ' R. 8. BAILEY, j I EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. ] T ERMS: t Two Dollars per year, if paid in ad- > t Vance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if , I paid in six months; or Three Dollars, if ' payment is delayed until the end of the 1 year. These terms will be rigidly ad- j t liered to. ) Advertisements will be conspicuously j inserted at seventy-five cents per square r of twelve lines, for the first insertion, * and thirty-seven and a half cents for each t subsequent insertion. A single insertion ? One Dollar. Nothing will be counted f less than a square. Advertisers are requested to state, in J| writing on their advertisements, the nurn- ? l>er of times they wish them inserted; or s they will be continue*! in the paper until t ordered out, and charged accordingly. The Law of Newspapers. 1, All snbscriliers who do not give ex- u press Notice to the contrary, are consid- d orod as wishing to continue their sul>crip- tl tions. u 2. If subscribers order the discoutin- r uance of their papers, the publishers may a -continue to send them until arrearages e arc paid. |> 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse tak- ?l ing tbeir papers from the offiees to which they lire sent, they are held responsible ? till their bills are settled, and their p?|>ers h ? ordered to be discontinued. *1 14. The Courts have decided that refit- d sing vt take a newspajter or periodical S from the office, or removing and leaving cl It uncalled for, is prima, facie evidence of h INTENTION At KllAl'D- d ' ALL KIHD8 OF U 1 JOB PUNTING EXECUTED WITH NEATNESS AND DESPATCH W At this Office. n i>eUrtpit '(TiiIpjs.? a From (tLuton* Pictorial. THE HUSBAND'S PRESENT; J; ?oh? sl The Beginning of a New Year. ic UY SYLVAN US Conu. .Tit. d< II It was a bitter Cold night on the 24th ol Jr December. The snow lay deep uj?on the frozen earth, and the bright iiiooti, riding '| half way up the bright heavens, lent a |( crystalilie lustre to the scene. In the high (jj rout I, a short distance from u quiet, relies- ,i iug village, stood the form of it liumnii t| being. Hit garments were scant nn<l tat- M tercd, l?y far iusuHiciceiit to keep out the m, biting frost; his frame shook ami trembled y like the ieo-bournl boughs of the weep- t| ing willow that grew near him, and his w face, as the luoott-beams now danced U|K>n sl it, exhibited all the fearful foot prints of ||( the demon Intemperance. 1'oor, wren-lied, debased he looked?and such in truth lie was. . Before him, at the end of a neatly-fenc- .' <sd and trcllised enclosure, stood a small 1 cottage. It was elegant in its simple neat- ? nesa, and just such an one as the humble lover of true comfort and joy would seek for a In-inc. The team rolled down the bloated cheeks of the poor inebriate, as lie gazed uj?on the cottage; and at lengtli, e I as lie clasped his hands in agony, lie murmured: K), thou fond hotne of my happiest 1 days, thou lookest like a heaven of the J" past. Beneath thy roof I was tmirried to ' the idol of my soul, and within thv walls Hl Ood gave me two blessed children ?Then peace and plenty were mine?mid love and joy. My wife?God bless her gentle ?r soul?was happy then: and my children . ?tnay Heaven protect them?laughed H mod piayed in gleeaoiue pleasure. Glad- P! ness smile*I upon us then, and every hour 1 was a season of Miss. But I lost thee, as I* the fool looseth his own salvation! Six 01 years have passed since the demon that I took to my heart drove us from your thel- JJ? tering roof. And those six years! 0. what misery, what agony, what sorrows, And what degradation have they brought to ^ me and my poor family! Home, health, wealth, peace, joy, and friends are gone? ,n all, all gone! O, thou fatal cup?no, I will not blame thee! It was I?I whodid >n it! Year after year, I tampered with thy ari deadly sting, when I know tnat destruction lurked in thy smilea. Hut, but," and the ?r poor man raised his eyes to heaven as he ? spoke, "there is room on earth for anoth- 1 ?r man, and 1 will bb that man! , he Within the onlv apartment of a miserable and almost broken.down hovel, sat a ? woman and two children, a boy and girt. The oold wind found its entrance through a hundred M its hitinrr mi*i. tl wept through the room, the mother and s??i her children crouch <x I nearer to the few en ember* that Mill smouldered upon the ra hearth. The only furniture were four poor th? atoola, a riekettv table, and a scantily cor- i ered bed; while in one corn or, nearest to W I # # I O LITERARY, ( lie ttrc place, was a licap of straw and | uttered blankets, which served as a rest- ^ ng-place for ihe brother and sister. Part I I >f a tallow candle was burning upon the I able, and by its dim light one might have j cen that wretched mother's countenance: ] t was pale and wan, and wet with tears. 1 I'lle faces of the children were l>oth bur- ! ' ed in her lap, and they seemed to sleep | K'aeefully under her prayerful gaurdian | hip. " ! ? At length, the sound of footsteps upon ] lie snow crust stnnk upon the mother's i I ar, and hastly arousing her children, she lurried them to their lowly couch, and 1 lardly had thev crouched lieneath the | ' hin blankets, when the door was opened, aid t .c linui whom wo have seen lieneath hat pretty cottage, enrered the place.? Villi troubling, fearful look, the uife i razed into her husband's face, and seemed < c'ady to crouch back from his approach, ? vlien the mark of u tear-drop upon bis heck caught her eye. Could it be, liouglitshe, that pearly diop was in truth i tear? No, perhaps a snow flake had alien there and melted. Once or twice, Thomas Wilkins seemed I ipon the point of speaking some word to < lis wife, but at length he turned slowly way, and silently undressed himself; ami ( oon after his wearied limbs bad touched l he bed bo was asleep. I Long and earnestly did Mrs. Wilkins i ;aze U|K>n the features of her husband.nf- I at ho had fallen asleep. There was some- ! Iiing strange in his manner, something s naeeountalile. Surely he had not been I rinking, for his countenance had none of < liat vacant, wild, demoniac look, that < sually rested there, llis features were * other sad and thoughtful, than otherwise; I nd O, heaven! is it |>o*siblo? a smile play- 1 J about his mouth, and a sound, as of I raver, issued from his lips while yet he t lepl! t A faint hope, like the misty vapor of t pproaehing morn, Hittcd before the heart- * roken w ile. But she could not grasp it, i lie liad no foundation for it, and with ;v t oep groan she felt the phantom pass.? t he went to her children and drew the i lothes closely aliout thein; then s!ie knelt i y their side, and after imprinting ti|?oii I Heir cheeks a mother.'* kiss, and uttering j. fervent prayer in their behalf, she sought i 10 re|K>se of her pillow. 1 Long ere the morning dawned, Thomas V'ilkins arose from his bed, dressed him- t If, ami left the house. His poor wife s woke just as he was going out, and she I c ould have called to him, but she dared | ot. She would have told him she bad I r o fuel, no bread, not anything with which ! ) warm and feet I the children; but lie was , \ one, and she sank back upon licr pillow j i ml wept. # I The light of moriiin { came at length, ' J lit Mrs. \Vllkili* had nut IV...., i I ud, nor h id her cliildren crawled out ' 0111 their resting place. A sound of foot* j ojm via*, heard frota without uccompau* | } d bv a noise, as though a little sled was | ring dragged through the sno> . The ' oor opened?and her husbaiiu entered. 1 * le laid on the table a large wheat en loaf, j small parcel, and a paper bundle; then ' out Ida |M?cket lie took another p iper areel, nnd again he turned towards the oor. When next lie entered lie U?re in 11 is arms a load of wood; and three times sl id lie go out and return with a load of ie same description. Then ho bent over te tire place, and soon a bluzi ng fire ll lapped and sparkled on the hearth. As ll ion as this was accomplished, Thomas " r'ilkins bent over his children and kissed lem; then he went to the hedside of his ifo, mid while some |k>wcrful emotion irreil up his soul and made hi.? chest ^ L'ave, lie murmured: "Kisa me, Lizzie." h Tiglitl v that wife wound her arms about M ie nock of her husband, and, us though v ie love of years whs centered in that ie kiss, she pressed it upon his lips. "There?no more," lie uttered, as lie ~ jntly laid the arm of his wife from his ick; "these things I have brought are for 11 >u and our children;" anil as bespoke lie 1 ft the house. I Mr*. Wilkin* arose frotn her bod, and 1' einblingly examined the articles upon the Die. site found the loaf, and in the \ til nlie found milk, one of the papers con- ) ,ined two smaller bundles, ono of ten, " td one of sugar, while in the remaining " treel she found a nice lump of butter. 0 "O," murmured the poor wife and inoth, as she gazed upon the food thus spread n >fore her, "from whence these? Can it b ) that Thomas has stolen them? No, he a :ver did that\ And then that look! that if ss??those kind, sweet words! O, in? ti tor, poor heart, raise not a hope that may if ily fall and crush thee!" "Mother," at this moment spoke her U| n, who raised himself upon his elbow, ft ins father gone?" h "Yea, Charles." h "O, tell ine, mother, did he not come d id kiss me and little Abby this morngr c] "Yes, yes, he did, he did!" cried the ? other, as she flew to the side of h*r Itoy o id wound her arms about him. That mother could not speak, she could a ily press her children more fondlv to her a mom, and weep ft mother's tears upon y em. I Was Lizzie Wilkin* happy aa she sat r children down to that morning's meal! tl t least a ray of snnshine was struggling b gain entrance to her bosom. fe - w Towards the middle of the afternoon, l' r. Abel Walker, a retired sea-captain of me wealth, sat in bis comfortable parlor gaged in reading, when one of hir set- n nt* informed him that some one was at fx b door, and wished to saa him. t) "Tell him to come in then," returned ti 'alk-r. w I t H*aiiu COMMERCIAL, LANCASTER, C. II., SOUT "But its that miserable Wilkins, sir." "Never inind," said the captain, after moment's hesitation, "show liini in. lNx fellow," lie continued, after the servant hi ojotie; "I wonder what he wants. In trul I pity him." With a troinbing step and downcast lo< Minimis Wilkins entered Captain Walkvi parlor. "All, Wilkins," said the old Captai 'what lias brought you here?" The man twice attempted to speak, bl liis heart failed him. "Do you coine for charity!" "No, sir," quietly returned Wilkin while bis eves gleamed with a proud ligh "Then sit down ami out with it," sai Walker in a blunt but kind tone. "Captain Walker,"commenced thepo< nan, as he took the proffered seat, "I fiai . oine to ask you if you still own that litt ;ottago beyond the hill?" "I do." "Is it occupied?" "No." "Is it engaged?" "No," returned the captain, regardin lis visitor with nnconunoii interest. "I3i why do you ask?" "Captain Walker," said Wilkins in irm and manly tone, even though his ev< 'listened and his lips quivered. "I ha\ >een poor and degraded, deeply stcepe n the dregs of poverty and disgrace.Everything that made life valuable I liav dmost lost. My wife and cbihlrcn hnv uittered?and CI Coil only knows ho1 ceenly! I have long wandered in the pat >f sin. One after another the tender core >( friendship that used to bind mc to tli world have snapped assumler, my nam las become a by-word, and upon the cart I have been a foul blot, lint, sir frot lencefortb I am a man! Up from tli leptlis of its long grave, I have dragge ;.wl. ..... -- ' 1 ? ' ...... .... i.e.hi, mm line Mill lias Its liotn herein. I have sworn to touoh the fat: n|? no more; and while in my heart ther s life, my wife and my children shall sii er no more for the sin they nevct commit ed. 1 have seen my old employer at th machine shop, and lie has given me a sit lation, and is anxious that 1 should com ?ack; and, sir, he has been kiuj enough t jive me an order in advance for necessnr irtieles of clothing, fiod and furniture.? fo-morrow morning 1 commence work." "And you came to see if you could oli aiu your cottage hack a train to live inl aid Captain Walker, as Wilkins liesitat id. "Yea, sir, to sec if I could hire it of you, eturned the poor man. "Wilkins, how much can you make ii rour hiiMiiessf' blunt'y asked the old ca| ain, without sceniing to hoed the request "My employer is going to put mc o oli work, sir, and as soon as I get m ..... i mini hi, i i an easily in.iKe troiu twelve t oiirtecti dollars a week." "Ami how much will it take to suppoi our family!" "A-> .siM.n as I Lfi?t cleared up, I can ens y get along with live ?<r six dollars veek." ' Then you might l?e able to save abou hur hundred dollars a year?" "I mean to do tli.-it, sir." A few moments Captain Walker gazci lito the face of iiis visitor, and tlieii h isked. "Have you pledged yourself yet!" "Before <?o.l and in my heart I have ait one of my errands here was to get yoi a write me a pledge, and have it inadeti ay wile and children." Captain \V? Iker sat down to his tabli nd wrote out the required pledge , am lien in a treinhliugluit hold hand, Tlioinn Vilkins signed it. "Wilkin*," said the old man, as lie tool is visitor by the hand. "I have watcher reU your countenance, ami weighed you rords. 1 know you speak the truth. Whei I rough t that cottage from your creditor ix years ago, I paid them one thousam ollars for it. It has not Ireen harmed, am i as good as it was then. Most of tin line I have received good rent for it.? io\v, sir, you shall have it for just wha p iid for it, and each month you shal ay inc such a stun as you can comfort a >ly spare until it is all paid. I will aal I ill 111* roll! nor u .VI.M "I r* VCIIli Ul lliwrmi,? 'ou shall have a deed of the estate an< i return I will take but a simple note an< lorlngage, upon which you can have you wn time." Thomas VVilkins tried to thank the ok lan for his kindness, but he only sanl ack into his chair nnd wept like a child nd while he yet sat with his face buriec i his hands, the old man slipped fron le room. And wiieu he returned, he bor< i his hand a neatly covered basket. "Come, coiue," the captain exclaimed cheer up, n?, friend. Here aro some bin r your wile and children?take them onrie; and believo me, Wilkins, if you foe alf as happy in receiving my favor as 1 o in bestowing it,younre happy indeed.' "Ood will bless you for this, sir," ex o.n ?? kiiiiivvi liiv r.iiiuiicno DillVRCII lUrtll, {tllU 'lieu I betray your confidence may I die n the instant!" 'Slick to your pledge, Wilkins, and 1 'ill take care of the rest," said the ohl plain, a* his friend took the basket "II ou have time to-inorrow, call on me, and will arrange the naiiem." Aa Thomas Wilkina once moro entered le street his step wan light and easy. A right lightmf joyousness shone in every ature, and as he wended his way homo ard, he felt in every avenue of his soul tat he was a msa! The gloomy shades that ushered in th? ight of the thirty-first ?<f December, had illen over the snow clad earth. Within ie miserable dwelling of Mrs. Wilkin* iere was more of oomfbtt than we found hen first we visiter] her; but yet nothing AGRICULTURE H CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY had been added to I lie furniture ot 11 iv pla a tor the lust six days Ikt husband li nr cam? homo every evening* and gone aw id every morning, and during that time s h knew he had drank no intoxicating Levi age, for already had his face began to i >k same the stamp of its former manlier '? and every word lie had spoken had lakind and att'ectionate. To liischildren 11, brought new shoes and warm clotliii and to herself he had given such things it she stood in immediate need of, but yi with ail this, Im had been taciturn ai I thoughtful, showing a dislike of allqiu s, | tions, itiifI only speaking SUcli words t. wore necessary. The poor, devoting, lo id ing wife began to hopel And why shou she not! Kor six years her husband In )r not been thus before. One week ago si e dreado? his appr ach, but How she ioui le herself waiting for him with all the anxi tv of former years. Should all this I broken? Should this new charm be swe away. Eight o'clock came, and so did nil and ten, ami yet her husband came not "Mother," said little Charles, just as tl g dock struck ten, seeming to have awake it ed from a dreamy slumber, "is not this tl last night of the year?" a "Yes, my son" s "And do you % know what I've bet re dreaming, dear mother? I dreamed th d father had brought us New Year's present - just the same as ho used to. Hut I e won't, will lie? He's too poor now!" c "No, my dear boy, we shall have r w ' other present than foot!; and even for th:i h we must thank dear father. There, la Is your head in my lap again." ie The boy laid his curly head once mo ie in his mother's lap, and with tearful ey h she gazed upon his innocent form, n The clock struck eleven! The po. e wife was vet on her tireless, sleepless wate d ?Hut hardly had the sound of the la e stroke died away, e c the snow crust gai il hack the sound of n footfall, and in a ??< e ment more her husband entered. With f- trembling fear she raised her eyes toll t- face, and a wild thrill of joy went to In e heart as she saw that ill was open at hold?only those manly features lookr e iik re joyous, more proud than ever, o "Lizzie," said he, in mild, kind accent y "I am late to night, but business detain* - me, and now I have a favor to ask of thee "Name it, dear Thomas, and you si n i- not ask it a second time,"cried the wife, i ' she laid her hand confidingly upon In husband's arm. "And you will ask mc no questions " continued Wilkins." "N.j, I will not." t "Then," continued the husband, as 1 ?- bent ov.-r and imprinted a kiss upon ii t- wife's brow, "I want you to dress our eh u dren for a walk, and you shall aeeoinpau v us. The night is ealin and trmquil. at 0 the snow is well trodden. Ah! no qur lions! Keinemher your promise!" Lizzie Wilkins knew not w hat this .* meant, nor did she think to care; for an '* thing that eonl.l please her hnshan.1 si il would have done with pleasure. ev< though it had wrenched her very hear 1 strings. In a short time the two childrt were toady; then Mrs. Wilkins put e , such articles of dress as she could emi 1 inand, and soon thev were in llie roa< L> The inoun shone bright, the stars pcepe down upon the earth, ami tliey seemed I smile upon the travelers from out tin ' | twinkling eyes of light.?Silently Wilkii 1 ) leil the wav, ami silently his wife an ' children followed. Several times the \vi looked up into her husband's counteuanc i j hut from the strange expression that restt 1 | there she could m ko out nothing tin * tended to satisfy her. At length, a slight turn in the ror i brought thein suddenly upon the pretl white cottage, where, years before, tlu r had been so happy. They approach! ' the spot. The snow in the front yard In i Ikhui shoveled, and a path led to the piazz Wilkin* opened the gate?his wife, trin bling, followed, cut whereforo she kne e not. Then hct husband o|>eued the dor and in the entry they were met l>y tl | smiling countennnce of old Captain Wj ker, who ushered them into the parlc where n warm fire glowed in the grat v and where evervtliing looked comfortabl " Mrs. Wilkins turned her gaze upon h ! blisbnnrl Snimlu in ?tia? I. , -V? "v u 1 twcen the poor man and the rich, tliei r was not e of that constraint which won have been expected. Thev met rather i I friends and neighbors. What could c mean? j Hark! the clock strikes twelve! T! 1 olJ year has gone, and a new, a brigh 1 winged cyle is about to commence i 3 flight over the earth. Thomas Wilkins took the hand of h 1 wife within his own, and then drawiti 4 from his losom a paj>er, he placed it i J her hand, remarking as he did so :? u fsizzir. thin ijt tintlr huahnnifm l, I for the neio year!" The wifo took the paper and opened i ' ?She realized its contents at a glance; bt he couhl not read it word for word, f< : the streaming team of a wild frantic jo would not let her. With a auick, ner j ous movement, ?he placed tlie pricelet pledge next her boaom; and then with low imirmer, like the gentle whispering < acme heaven hound angel, ahe fell int her hualtand's arms. "Look up, my own dear wife," utterc ; the redeemed man, "look up and surl upon you? husband; and you, too, m j dear children, gather about your fatherfor a husband and father henceforth I wi ever be. Look up, my wife. Thcrei Noi Lizzie, feel proud with tne, for we stan i within our own house! Yes, this cot tap > is once more our own; and nothing he i the ban I of death shall again take r > hence.?Our good, kind friend will explai I it all,?O, Lizzie, if there is happiness o J earth, it shall henceforth be ours ! la 0 u 0 L, GENERAL A] MORNING, OCTOBER 27,1852. ee. ' the |>a?t Ihj forgotten aiul with this, tin ad dawning of a new year, let us eominetua ay ! to I ve in tlic future." lie I Gently the luishand ami wifesaifk upor sr- their knees,clasped in each other's arms is- and clinging joyfully to them, knelt then >d, conrciotts, happv children. A prayer from en the ItUshanil's hps wended its way to tin he throne of grace; and, with the warm tear? ig, trickling down his aged face, old Captain as Walker responde I a heartfelt "Amen." i-U j * * * * * rtd J Five years have passed since that happv s- moment. Thomas Wiikins has cleared as his pretty cottage from all eucnmtcance, iv- i and a happier, or a more respected family Id do not exist. And Lizzie?that gentle, id j confiding wife?as she takes that simple lie paper fVom the drawer, and gazes again id upon the magic pledge it hears, weeps ie- tears of joy anew. Were all the wealth lie of the Indies poured out in one glittering pt pile at her feet, and all the honors- of the ne world added thereto, she would not, for ! the whole countless sum, give in exchange 10 one single word from that pledge which n- ! constituted her Ilush,ami's Present. From, the Olive Branch. in Editors. at . V W iiat an important set of men ed1C itors are. What could our country do without them? There are sonic dozen or 10 twenty in the councils of the State L<-glt islatures, just by way of salt, to keep y everything pure and wholesome. And then in setting political wheels in motion, re and driving thcio ahead with railr.nl speed, t.s editors are altogether indispensable. But they are generally modest men, and are by ,r no means aware of their own importance. I,; There are exceptions, however. Soincst times one of the craft finds out tho rere i sp??nsibility that rests upon him, and then IV ! he feels it. An editor of a si..all paper ;l | not a thousand miles I mm the laud of js j witches, lately apologised for tho lack of 1>r I news in the following maimer : ? d j "Our rentiers will please excuse the id absence of news matter to day, as polities i rage, and the country looks to lis fur sal I s- vation. 'd That editor certainly ought not to he " i obligetl to t roll I de himsell about news, ill i for iftlie country should really lose llirough is fiis attention to tin* news of the day, it | would he a sail calamity. Yes, my dear I sir, we will cheerfully excuse you. Throw J" news to the dogs, only save the country | which looks to you, and probably to you | only for its sal\..,it>n. e j Another editor, we see, apologises for is the lack of matter on the g.i..uinl that he, il- bis foreman, and some of his compositoriv I are sick. We presume he has got his id health insured since, fur lor adds, "in 's- j future we will do better." So bis help | may also be relied oti in the salvation of dl | the country. y- J When tin editor sits down to pen an arie | tide, what an importance lie must feel ll there is attached to the wielding of hit i pen. The world i-in expectation of-oiue ii tiling nut only brilliant, but aLo <>t" the >11 j highest importance tothe wo I tare of nun. n- j Ami it, I v any possible miwlintice, liispmil Ibtiml thoughts sliouM not reach the coin ?l ' inanity of readers, the worl-1 will Miller? ? snllcr an eclipse of almost total darkness, ir | 'till thesnute bright luminary shall lie more j successful in pouring out his rays. Who, i'l j then, can Maine an nlitor, for feeling that It! lie is the threat central body of light aroiiml e, which other smaller lights may involve.? Kl Ami if he sliouM omit to mention that at John Smith ami Lucy Brown ha<l just hecn IkiiiiuI up together in a honey moon id of cc-stacies, or if lie should not puMish tv the important fact that Bill Jones's horse ?v hroke his let;, nothing short of a handsome H a|M>logy for the omission, would prevent nl the country from being lost. Editors are a. some spikes after all. a- _ a , w A Billion. >e What a very great sum is a billion! >1- It is a million of millions. A million ?r, seems large enough?hut a million of e, millions! how long do you suppose it would ?- | uikc you 10 count it/ A mill winch makes er one hundred pins a ininute, it' kept to ? J work night and day, would only make re fifty-two millions five hundred and ninetyId I six thousand ]>ins & year?and at that w j rate the mill must work twenty thouit j sand years without stopping a moment, in order to turn out a hillion of pins!?It is ie lieyoful our reach to conceive it?and yet t- when a billion years shall have gone, U eternity will socin to have just begun. i How important then is the question, is "Where shall I spend eternity?" In Love is as natural to a woman as fra^ granceisto arose. You may lock up a girl in a Convent; you may confine her in , a cell; you may coinj>el her to change her j't religion, or forswear parents ; these things >r are jiossible ; but never hope to make the sex forego their heart's worship, or give up y their reverence for cassimere ; but such a hope will prove as bootless as the (ircok Slave and hollow as I3aml>oo. to Oh, dear, Mr. 0, you arc certainly jesting when you any my haby is tlx? handsomest you ever saw?must bo softI? soaping.' y "Well, madam, I should think it ncod? ed soap of soine kind.' II 1 m mm (j An old toper chancing to drink a gtass ^ ot water, a few days since, for want of something stronger, smacked his lip*, |A and turned to one of his companions, n remarking, 'Why it don't taoe badly. I n have no doubt it's'wholesome for females jt i and tender childron. <* % v^. ND LOCAL INTJ ;! From the Olive Drrtrch. | "A woman, a do?, and a walnut tree. ; The ni'ire they are beaten the better they , I be." Proverb. :: " Atiy man who believes that, had het> i terstep into m//shoes," said little Mr. Weai sel. 1 suppose I'm what vou call ''the head I il. v ? ? ? l ? " . I '>j incjutvui/y out i stioultln t know it, it i ( somebody didn't tell me of it, Ileiglm! i] who'd have thought it, five ami twenty years ago? Didn't I stille a tremendi.us i strong penchant for Diana Dix, (never smoked, I renioinher, for I bur hours after it) because i had my private suspicions I she'd hold the reins, in spite of my teeth, and so I otler-'d myself to little Susy Snow, (I (mistake in her name, by the way) yon might have spanned her round the waist, J j or lifted her with one hand. She never I looked any hody in the face when they I i spoke to her, and her voice was as soft as | | my brains! I declare it's unuccounta-1 lie how deceitful female nature id Never I ' was so taken in my life; she's a regular j 1 Vesuvius crater! Her tcill! (don't men-1 tion it!) Try to pry up the Alps with a I cambric needle! If she'd only Ily into a , : passion, I think I could venture to pluck j j up a little spirit*, but that cool, determined, never say die look! would turn cayenne pepper to oil. It wilts me right down, like a cabbage leaf. I'd as lief face a loaded cannon! I wish I could go out evenings; J but. she won't let me. Tom doites asked ! me yesterday why I wasn't at Fanonil Ilall ' ' the night before. I told him I had the j bronchitis; tit; saw through ii! Sent me a j pair of uniNS, the next day, "said to be j I u certain curd" Ah! it's very well for him : to laugh, but it's no joke to nie. I suppose it's time to feed that baby; Mis. Weasel will be home prettv soon, from the "Woman's Rights' Convention."' No, I won't cither; I'll give it seme Paregoric,and run up garret and smoke one cigar, any how. I feel as though I couldn't b'ok a hummil ydi'rd in the rye! Nice eigat! very j I liio! W hat a fool I mo to i... oi-.i . i i i round li_v :i little blue-eyed woiikiii, three ' feet high! Tin a very good-looking fel1 l<>w, ami I won't stand it! Tint little ' Weasel is a< much her l? il?y as it is mine! I'm blest it it isn't! Let it spucak! good i tor its lungs." ! "M-r. W-c-a s-e:!" "l)ial>o!u>!! lion: ? iny?dear (oli! sois- ' | sors, tint eye of her-!) you see, my dear | ; (tlioro, I won't do it again. Mrs. Wca-cl.) ' (low's "tin* Convention," di'ar? carried the j i day, I hope? undo one of your sm u t | speeches, liovl 'Tisti't evcy man owns such a olutin lightning wife?stand uj? for your rights, dear; (lVuee knows 1 dai-n'l! Fanxv Fkrx. Itonfo for tljr ^LUiiig.j Advice to Bjy.s and Girls. 1. Ilesjxrt and ol?ey your parents. 2. Love your brothers and sisters sin- | ! ccrelv. ;t. Neiirr speak evil of one another. 4. Never strike, nor lie, nor client, [ i nor steal. 5. lie strictly honest, even in the smallest matters. 0. S ivo everything you can to give to j the objects of hciicvolciice. 7- 1 >o no', mock the deaf, the lame or j | the hliud. 8. Alxv .vs i?e respectful to the aged. I 9. Keep your cloths neat ami clean. 10. Kclurii articles hollowed or found. i i \ ,...:.i .i? * ' i i I ... ....vivi UIV Ul UJIU tlllldren. 12. Never wantonly kill a fly or any , animal. 13. !)?> not covet what is not your \ ' own. 14. Improve your opportunities tor gaining instruction. 15. Avoid low, vulgar, profane and J obseno words. 10. l)o not find fault w ith your food. 1 7. Let your conduct at table bo beI coming. 18. Be exact in nil your dealings and I accounts. 19. Have a place for every thing and j put everything in it* proper place. Which Boy will You be. "Will you liave this seat, sir? I prefer ' to stand, said a tine little boy, sitting in n | | pew, when the church was crowded, to an old gentleman, standing in the aisle. "Thank you my little man," said the. gentleman, smiling gratefully upon the lit, tie fellow, "and you shall sit upon my knee i it you please." W hen the service closed, the gentleman I inquired of him bis name, and asked him. ny uid you give up your good seat? j "Mother teaches me,' said lie, "never j to sit, while nti older person is standing near mo." Now look at another sconce. 1 "Will you let the ladies have your seat, and sit upon the bench yonder?" said a gentleman to four hoys, sitting together I in a pew. "I shan't," says one. "They may sit ujkmi the bench thein| nelves.it" they please," said another, i Not one of them moved. All the peoI pie near turned and looked with surprise i and disgust u|w?n them. "They can't be Sabbath-school scholar*," ! one remarked. "At any rate," another said, "they have had no bringing up at home." Very soon the Sexton eamo ordered them all out of Hie pew. They were obliged to obey, and out they marched, with tliuil heads hanging down, looking so sheepish and ashamed that nobody putled them. Which example, children, is lite most worthy of imitation, that of the lad or the four boys! And which honored their parents most! <#? ?????? ? ? mmmf 5LLIGENCE. iNUMBER 38. Iiiuiiinj H\milling. Decision. | More than fort v years ago, a young man ! was preceptor of Bradford Academy; j w ho had ju>t become interested in religion* ; lie was iiiviii.il to a social party to spend j the evening. After tea tl'ic tables j were prepared for card playing. This I young man was very much tried when he aw this preparation. Several of tho j company were young ladies who were mciuucrs <?i ins sciiooi, and lie felt a responsibility respecting the influence which lie slioul* 1 exert upon them, lie made tip l is mind that lie would not en1 gage in tint amusement, and retired to another room. The young ladies asked, "Where is the preceptor?" They all gathered around him and entreated him io join them in card playing. lie told them that lie eonld not, and gave them his reasons. This aflbrded him an opportunity to enter into a free conversation on the subject of personal religion. Among the young ladies present that evening was Harriet At wood, who w?s afterwards Harriet Newell, of the first company of missionaries w hq went from this country. The faithful conversation of that young man resulted in her conversion. Though the blessing of God, an entire revolution was wrought in her feelings and purposes. She devoted herself to preaching the go-pel to the brethren, blie had i'? in he.* head to do ibis work, but lives o;.ly to come in sight of heathen in.;.' . Her memoir, prepared ami pul i I bv Dr. Woods, lias done a great v. vi..e being dead yet speaketh.? Iltiiuir. '--ive been baptized into her name as \ ell as imbued with her spirit.? i 1. r < ;miple will live, and continue to (Neil an inductive, until Mi l V- ivmote?-l naiivtis shall have learned M".ssiali's name. The young man v.ho took this stand has been a successful pastor i:t New Hampshire more than forty tears. The good accomplished by the decided stand Wllkhlie took that ididir will iipvoi' Ih> t*i111v understood until the secrets of all bonis shall be revealed. Ilmv important that Christians be divided.?Dec The Belisvers Reot in Christ. "Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and 1 will give you rest." A convinced sinner, out of Christ, sees everything against him; nothing yields any comfort?yea, everything increases and aggravates his burden, when he looks to things past, his soul is tilled with anguish, to remember the sins committed and the seasons neglected, and the prc' ioiis ni' ivies that have heeti utilised. If he look on things present, the case is doleful ami miserable?nothing but trouble and danger. Christ loss and comfortless. And if he look forward to tilings to eomo, that gives him a deeper cut to the heart than anything else, for though it he sad and miserable for the present yet he fears it will be much worse hereafter; for all those are but the beginning of sorrow s.? Hut on his eoniming to Christ, all tilings are in irvcllmisly altered; a (juite contrary lace of things appear to him?everything jjno Htm iiuiht aim coiiiion. which way soever lie looks. So speaks tlie Apostle, "All things are yours, wliellier life or (lentil, or tilings present, or tilings to come; all is yours, nu<l ye are Christ,*, and Christ is God's.' Christ invites and commands such to come unto him; and if your sin hinder not Christ fioin calling, neither should it hinder you from coming. Bethink thyself what wilt thou do, and whither wilt thou go, if not to Jesus Christ.- Nothing can caseor relieve theo, till thou dost come to him; thou art under a happy necessity to go to him; with him only is found rest for the weary soul. Swearing Nobly Reproved. Prince lletiry, the son ot James I had particular aversion to the vice of swearing and profanations of the name of God. When at play; he was never heard to swear; and on being n?ked why he did not do ro at play as well as others, ho answered that he "knew no game worthy of an oath." The same answer lie is said to have given at a hunting match. The stag, almost quite spent, crossed the road where ahuteher was passing with his d? g. The stag was instantly killed by the dog at which the huntsmen were greatly offended, and endeavered to irritate the y>i iace against the butcher : but his hitrh ness answered cooly, "True the butcher's dog has killed the stag, and how could tho butcher help it}" They replied; "if his father had been so served he would have sworn so as no mam eoi:!d have endured." \Away," said the prince, "nil the pleasure in the world is not worth an oath. American Tract 8ociety. Thk dishonest course of this Institution, in introducing various alterations of tho text of the works they re-publish, without the permission of the authors, and seriously ctibctilig their whole character, has been repeatedly exj?osed, Remonstrances have been addressed to it in vain, and it is fast losing the confidence of those who have heretofore supported it. No religious ^ w riter is safe from tho grossest perversions of his words, nnd uo purchaser of its iwoks can be HMry tha> they are honest reprints. Alluding of tli^ latest inKtnnocs of it* g.irbliim and int( relation, while proteasing to JT a faithful mid com pHtc copy of the author's work, the Lit therm Ob$erver says? * '0 4k