Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 20, 1856, Image 1
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samxLwMmeit6n, | Propnetora. An independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis m. grist, pabiuher.
| VOL. 2. YORKVILLE, S. C., THTJBSDAY, NOYEMBEB 2Q,1856. dSTQ. 47.
%jlton. j
ADVEMTRE IX A GAM1XG HOUSE.
It was in the Spring of 18?that I found
myself gliding upon the waters of the migh- j
ty Mississippi, and bound for the Crescent
City, New Orleans.
With a single exception, I had formed no :
travelling acquaintances on board the boat,
although I had been nearly two days upon
my journey which was becoming somewhat
monotonous. The individual with whom I,
singularly enough, fraternized, seemed, like
myself, to have but little inclination to ex ^nrJ
Kio nr?minint?n?fi amon<r the nassenerers.
""" """1"" O I O '|
though he seemed to be constantly upon the !
lookout for some one, and from the close
manner in which he regarded the operations
of two or three individuals, whose profuse
> display of vest chains and jewelry, and proficiency
with cards at the tables in the saloon,
"betrayed their profession, I more than once
eet him down as some sort of a police detective
in disguise.
He called himself George Thorn, of Kentucky;
so his card read, which he gave me
in exchange for mine. In truth he was a
noble specimen of the Buckeye State. Full
six feet in height, a clear intelligent blue
eye, broad forehead, and light curly hair,
muscular arms, and the chest of a Hercules,
he challenged the admiration of more than
one of the passengers, as, with his serious
and never smiling face, he paced the promenade
deck, or sat apparently buried in
thought in the soloon.
"Do you never play at cards ?" said I to
him, as he left a group that were standing
about a table of four players, and noting the
progress of the game. I had frequently seen
him invited, but he invariably, like luyseir,
refused to participate in the gauie.
"Oh, yes," said he, "but where is the use
of playing here; those fellows (nodding to1
wards the players) can tell every card in the
pack by the backs, and they are trying hard
to pluck some poor pigeon from among the
passengers, but with indiffereut success; beware
of them, sir."
I thanked him for his friendly warning,
and at the same time expressed my astonishment
at his affirmation. To convince me of
the truth of it-, he called the steward of the
boat, and ordered him to bring him a fresh
pack of cards, which were brought, and he
handed the pack to me, bidding me to shuffle
them. I did so, when he immediately selected
nearly every ace and king from the pack
without looking-ct the face of them. Next
he dealt them in two parcels, one to mc and
one to himself, when, upon examination, I
found that the cards of real value in the
game wero in his hand, and I could not detect
the least unfairness as he dealt them.
"You see," said he, smilingly, at my look
of astonishment, "the advantage an expert
in these matters has over even a skilful player."
"I do, indeed," replied I, astonished at
my fellow traveller's dexterity, and begin-!
uing to think he might be a reformed gambler,
or "playing possum" for some purpose
or other; but, as he did not urge or even in- j
vile me to play, nor had played with anyone
else, and threw the cards aside with an expression
of disgust too natural to be assumed,
I came to the conclusion that my auspicious
~ were unjust, and my traveling acquaintance
was a riddle yet to be solved.
Early the next morning the boat arrived
at New Orleans, and, amid the hurry and
bustle of debarkation, I lost my friend the
Kentuckian, noteven seeing him to bid adieu.
That same evening, however, after visiting
the theatre, I was enjoying the cool air and
a fragrant Havana, in the rotunda of the St.
Charles Hotel, and conversing with a friend
from the North, whom I had fortunately met,
when whom should I encounter but my steamboat
acquaintance ?
After the usual greeting, our conversation
turned upon our trip down the river, our fellow
passengers, &c., when my fellow traveller
remarked that if I would like to witness
the interior of a gambling house, or "hell,"
as it is sometimes more appropriately called, !
he would be pleased to show it to us as one
of the sights or "lions" of the citv. Never |
having wituessed anything of the kind, both j
I and ray friend assented, and after a short1
walk, found ourselves within the precincts j
of oneof those glittering aud gorgeously furnished
establishments?vestibules to the in
fernal regions?where men are engaged iu !
various games of hazard.
The interior ?rf a gambling house has beeu
a _ _ a!_ 1 ?1- 1- 1 . 1
too ircfjucnnj uescrioeu to neeu repeuuou. ;
The Faro Bank with its crowd of betters, !
the Rouge et JSvir table with its anxious !
circle, and groups of players at other games ;
of which I was ignoraut of the name, were 1
all busily engaged as we entered. We had
passed through two apartments, and reached
a third, jn wh'ck were but four players, j
playing in pairs a* different tables. As we j
entered, we sac down at an unoccupied table j
for a moment, when, as we did so, we heard
one of the two men nearest us say to his oppoueut?
"That's the last dollar; luck is yours, and
I'm cleaned out."
"But you wear a good ring," said Lis opponent.
"Sec ! I will give you a chance
for revenge. I'll back my ring against yours
on the next game. It's a ring I won at play
from a Kentucky boy that came to New Orleans
to see the sights," said he carelessly.
IIow little did he know those words, so !
lightly spoken, had sealed his doom.
"No!" said his opponent, rising, I'll meet
you to morrow night. I won't pledge ray
jewelry yet."
As the player, who was sitting with his
back partially turned towards us, mcutioned
Kentucky in his conversation, I saw Thorn j
listen with eagerness, and as he twisted the J
ring he offered to bet upou his finger, I saw
the Kentuckian turn deadly pale, llis eyes
glowed like fire for an instant, then his countenance
again resumed its usual calm and
placid look?and, to our amazement, he
rose, and walked across the apartment to the
player, who had just been left by his companion,
courteously proposed to try a hand
or two with him if agreeable, and if we, his
friends, would excuse him for a short time.
Of course we assented?so did the gambler,
who appeared at lirst somewhat surprised at
the proposition, but probably resolved to try
his skill upon the new comer.
The cards were dealt, and the game proceeded.
We were sufficiently near to see
that the piece of gold which constituted the
first stake was won by our friends opponent;
so, also, was the second. The third stake
Thorn gained. And thus they went on al
ternately winning and losing, till.at last
Thorn carelessly observed:
"That's a pretty ring you offered to bet a
while ago, stranger. Will you sell it?"
"Well, as to that," said the other, "it's
pretty enough, and costs me enough?for a
young fellow pledged it to me some three
years ago as a sort of note of hand, which he
promised to redeem with five hundred dollars
that he owed me?a debt of honor, sir
?but he never paid it; so I retain the ring.
Xo, stranger, I guess I won't sell it."
"But the owner ? You should have made
him pay; five hundred dollars is a dear price
for such a bauble."
"Why, as to that," said the player, as he
gathered up his cards for the next hand, "he
couldn't come to time very well, for he 'paid
the debt of nature,' as they say, the same
Dight, and that cancelled my obligation. Ah!
the stake's mine?there's always luck in this
ring, sir, 1 believe," said he, as he drew the
money towards him ; "suppose we try a larger
stake;" and he prepared to shuffle the
cards again.
"As you like," said Thorn.
"Well, what shall it be." said his opponent,
"anything from one to five hundred ?"
and he threw a bank note of that denomination
carelessly, as if in bravado, upon the
tabic.
To our surprise Thorn drew a wallet from
his pocket, and produced au equal amount
of money, theu sweeping the cards they had
been using from the table to the floor, he ;
called for a fresh pack, and passing them,
as the attendant brought them to him rapidly
through his hand, he gave them to his adversary.
remarking to hiui as he did so, to
"mind his deal this time," fixing upon him
a searching glance as lie went through that
operation. The game was that known as '
"bluff," or "poker," I know not which, but I
at any rate one on which the players bet upon
the cards they hold. Thorn and his op- 1
ponent having each glanced at their cards, 1
commenced the game. i
"I'll go you one hundred," said Thorn, '
commencing. <
"Two hundred better than that," said his
opponent. <
"Another hundred," continued Thorn. '<
"H'm'm ! three hundred better/" said 1
the gambler, producing the notes from his
pocket book.
"Three hundred more," said Thorn, quietly.
The game was getting exciting to us as ;
spectators; three thousand dollars lay upon
the table to be decided by the cards held by
the players, each of whom seemed from his
bets to be confident of success, though their
countenances betrayed not the least emotiou.
"One hundred more," said the gambler,
again.
"I call you," said Thorn.
"Ah / thrrr h-ini/s and an ace /" said the
c V? n v?v\r.?? f finmr\T^ontlv
o..aM,C., n.uuifuuiiuj.
"Three aces and a king !" said Thorn,
quietly, as he displayed his own cards, and
with his eyes fixed steadily upon his opponent
folded up the money and crammed it into
his pocket.
"Fortune favors you," said the gambler,
stoically, too well schooled to betray any emotion
or chagrin at the result.
"So it seems," said the other.
"But T hope to meet you again, sir; for I
must have my revenge after so heavy a run
of luck as this," said Thorn's opponent;
"and I have no doubt you friends will join
us in a social sit-down, for if you are as good
at cracking a bottle, singing a song, or telling
a story, as holding a hand at cards, those
who are your friends are fortunate."
"I must confess," said Thorn, "that Tarn
uot of a couvivial or musical turn, though I
can occasionally tell a good story. 1 have a
little history now, sir, upon my tongue's end,
that will be of uncommon interest to you."
"To me ! Pray tell it," said the gamester,
with a laugh. "It will be a good wind-up ;
for the evening's entertainment."
It was now long past midnight; absorbed
in the excitement of the game, we had scarcely
noticed the flight of time, or that the
adjoining rooms were now nearly deserted by
their occupants, and that the two other players,
at the other end of the apartment in
which we were, had finished their own game
long since, and been spectators of that be
tween Thorn and his opponent, ana were now
apparently interested listeners.
"About three years since," began Thorn,
a young man iu Kentucky, the confidential
agent of a large business (inn, was entrusted
with a sum of money and commissioned to
transact some business in New Orleans; it
was his first visit to that city. He started ,
happy, leaving behind him a young wife and
lovely infant Unfortunately upon one of
the Mississippi boats, or immediately upon
his arrival in New Orleans, he fell in with a .
professional man?a man of }4av, 1 mean
?you understand?" ,
The gambler nodded, and Thorn continu- i
ed: I
"By the management of this 'professional/
the young man was enticed to a 'hell/' 1
induced to play, plied with wine, stripped of i
his money?in short, to use a 'professional' 1
word, 'plucked'?" '<
"Ila ! ha 1 the old story,"said the gambler, i
"the fate of pigeons." <
"But I have not finished; that which most <
interests you is yet to come." 1
%
<'Indeed ! Go on." (
"The young man was perfectly sobered by j
his loss; he returned to his hotel; stang with j
remorse aud half crazy with excitement, he !)
placed a pistol to his head and blew out his ! t
brains, leaving a tarnished uame ns an inheri- i c
tance for his wife aud inuoceut child." | (
"Uut what is all this to me," said the I
gambler, now pale as ashes beneath the flash- 1
ing eye of the speaker; "is it a moral lesson t
you're about to read hero, or a sermon you (
have to preaclr?" 1
"What is it to you !" continued Thorn, |
his voice quivering with excitement. "Ah! a
I'll tell you what it is to you. This meeting j
of you and me to night, which for three long t
years I have sought, is not mere chance.? i
The hand of Heaven is in it. 'Twas three 1
years ago this very night, ay, this very hour," t
said he, glancing at his watch, "that the t
young man I spoke of rushed madly into t
eternity?not by his own hand, but his op- t
poncnt at the card table is he that should be c
nopountahle for that deed of blood?the a- \
mount of money he lost was just the amount r
I have won this night from you?that very s
ring vj)on your finger is hisl I am iits
Brother, and you are nis Assassin !" 1
Thorn pronunccd these words in n firm, p
clear, ringing voice, and as he concluded, t
brought his hand down with a blow upon the a
table at which they were sitting, which was t
instantly overturned, as he aud his opponent f
started simultaneously to their feet. They a
were scarcely six paces apart after springing s
from their chairs, and both drew their wea- t
pons as they rose. p
"Die! liar !" shouted the gambler, dis- r
charging his weapon the moment he gained 1
his feet. The bullet ripped open Thorn's e
waistcoat, and his watch flew iu fragments t
from the pocket, dangling by its chain ; at o
the same moment his arm, which was slowly i:
rising, became rigid as that of a statue?the d
pistol he held exploded, and the gambler fell i
back a corpse upon the carpet. This all b
passed so suddenly, ere we could iuterfcrc, o
that we stood as if almost paralyzed for an t
instant, while the servants, alarmed by the i
noise, and the police, came rushing into the t
apartment. c
Thorn quietly surrendered himself, mere- t
ly turning to us and the other two who were e
in the room, saying, as lie did so, "uenue- t
men, bear wituess I fired in self defi'cnce,
and that I received that villain's first fire b
here and he pointed to his shattered watch z
with a smile, and turning, left the room with i\
the officers. h
lie was tried and acquitted, as it was clear- v
ly proved that his adversary fired upon him ii
Brst. The fact of the gambler being a note- v
rious rascal, whom the community could well t
tfford to spare, might have had some influ- t
?nee with the jury. ii
I have never met Thorn since, but the re- t
collection of that fearful scene is yet fresh o
md vivid in my mind, though many years p
have passed siuce it was enacted. t
- , b
Select At tailing. ;;
REFLECTIONS. u
Why should one man harm another? p
Is not inan to man a brother ?
Strength was given to the strong
Mot lor purposes of wrong,
But to heln the weak along. a
a
Why should F.nvy move the breast
Whin a neighbor seomcth blest J
(lifts that from high Heaven are shed, 11
Though they fall not on our head, s
Bedeck the ground ou which we tread.
o J.
Why should Pride our thoughts engage ? t!
"All the world is bnt a stage"? r
Brief the most applauding call;
And up..;i the great and small r'
Drops the curtain, like a pall. j r
rJ
Why should Hate our breasts excite?
Doing wrong ne'er serves the right; *'
Hearts that on brooding malice feed p
Ope their own pores and bid them bleed? q
Die bv their own mistaken deed.
jj;
Wliv should Seniul.o.1 ninvc the tontrue ? n
Falsehood's old, but Truth is young ! l
Mischief?witch of darker time?
Trails along in filth and slime, H
But angel Love is all sublime. t:
ii
Why should Bigotry defy
The opening of the mental eye?
He serves the wrong who fears the right; t<
God hath said?"Let there be light!"
The suu doth ever chase the night. ^
a
... OM
PRINTING TYPE.
c
"We find, in the American Publishers'
s
Circular, the following description of the
various processes which are gone through in ^
the manufacturing of printing type :
The letters, Ac., are first cut upon a steel j n
punch. This requires great skill. The' ?
characters are oftentimes extremely minute, '
and every pains is taken to procure not only i ,
individual beauty but general uniformity.? j,
Not only letters, but figures, signs and orna- j
nieuts, in endless varieties, are thus cut.? i ?
i 1 i<
There arc, also, spaces used to separate
words. Quadrates, which are larger than j
spaces, separate sentences, and in general |
occupy the positiou among type that is rep-! '
resented by the uupriuted parts, both spaces ?
and quadrates being shorter than type. In '
a full font of type there are about oOO dif- j
ferent characters. The cost of the separate i a
punches varies from ?2 to ?o0. After the j ^
punch has been cut it is indented to a cer- j
tain depth into a block of copper; this is I P
called the matrix. Klectrotyping has of ia
late years been used for the purpose of ob
taining matrices from the typo itself, by ,
which means type founders are enabled to j
avail themselves of each other's labor.? j "
Business morality is of a most elastic quali- 1 a'
??-.?! if vrmil/l Kn ii ticolocc n vnnnrl i tn f n nf I
ij, a.,u .v nvu.u ... uc6?? |
time to question the propriety of the prac- f(
tice. j tc
An apparatus, denominated the mould, is : fi
used for forming the body of the type, and h
to this mould, which answers for all the
types of a font, the different matrices are u
adjusted as required. lie who adjusts the a1
matrices to the.moulds is called a justifier, b<
Dr more commonly a fitter. All the types ai
)f a font are of the same length and depth, 2i
thought the letters upon them yary in their tl
liraensions. The mould is so constructed
is to admit of the width being altered to
mit the letters to be cast; thus the letter I,
vhich is very narrow, is upon the body of a
ype, the perpendicular face of which is pre:iscly
the same as that of the letter W, sev:ral
times as wide. It is necessary that the
)odies of types should also have all their
ines at exact right angles; without this they
vould not stand in a line, and would consequently
be useless. If the types varied in
leight, they would not give a perfect imjression,
in endeavoring to obtain which,
lome would be subjected to an injurious
)res8ure. A few tyjjcs ? portion of
he face letter projecting over the body, as
u the letter f; this projection is called the
cern, and in combination with other letters
he projecting part generally extends over
he next letter, as in fc. In those combina
ono wVincnm tVio lr A*n a i ri nnn
lumoj n uuitiu iuu aviu nvuiu xu vvn
act with another letter, compound types arc
ast, as in the case of ff, fi, fl, ffi, ffi. Some
ears since, these combinations, wore much
nore numerous, but many have been dispened
with by altering the form of the letter.
The next operation is that of casting.?
[he old method, of which is fcven to the
iresent time generally used in England, may
ie thus described : The matrix having been
djusted to the mould, is taken by the caser
in his left hand. At his right, upon a
urnace is a pot of molten metal. This mct1
he dins out in suitable quantities with a
mall ladle, and pours into the mould, at
itues giving a quick upward jerk, for the
lurpose of forcing the metal well into the
natrix, to give the type a good face. A
V spring which holds the matrix in its propr
position is tlieu removed; the matrix is
hen pried out from off the type, the mould
opened, and the type thrown out. By this
nethod an average of about 4,000 types per
lay cou be cast by oue man. An important i
improvement was made in 1814, by Archi ald
Binney, of Philadelphia, whereby, with
ne motion of the hand, the matrix was
hrown out and the mould opened. This
uvention increased the rapidity with which
ypes were cast at least 50 per cent. Type
asters acquired great expertness, and with
he hand moulds were enabled to cast with
xtraordinary rapidity, but only for a short
ime.
In 1828, the casting machine was patented
y William M. Johnson, an ingenious citicn
of New York, and put in opcratien in
Ir. White's foundrv. since which time it
ias been greatly improved. By this contrianc-c,
a pump inserted in the molten metal
njects the requisite quantity into the mould,
rhieh is brought sharply into contact with
he piston ; the mould then comes off from
he pump, opens anil discharges the type I
ato a box. Tn type foundries, generally,
his machine is worked by hand; but in the
ne we had the pleasure of examining, steam
mwer is successfully applied. At least
hree times the number of type can be cast
y* the machine than by the ordinary hand
aould, and a velocity of 200 revolutions per
ninute, (each revolution forming oue type)
ias occasionally been obtained, though the
dual results are by no means to be based
ipon that fact. Various causes operate to
irevent a long continuance of such speed.
The type, after being discharged from the
nould has a piece of metal, called the jet,
ttached to the bottom; this is broken off by
boy, called a breaker, and the singular
wiftness of all his motions i9 truly astonishDg.
Smart lads or girls, who have had
ufficient experience, perform all these opeations
with such rapidity, as to pain the eye
hat observes them. The jets having been
emoved, the types are taken to another
oom, where boys and girls are engaged in
ubbing off the inequalities upon the sides,
.'his is effected by bringing the type in conact
with a smooth stone, prepared for the
urpose, and moving it frotn side to side ?
'he rubbers generally smooth several at the
amc time. Those letters which are kerned
s before described, cannot be wholly rubied
upon a flat surface, and they are conseuently
filed smooth by an ingenious conrivance,
which prevents the kern from beng
injured.
After this operation, the types are set
j hiwii lijc lauca uunuuaiu^ au u vvuilosing
stick eight inches long, and thence
re transfered to the setting stick which is
nc yard in length. Those who do this are
ailed setters. The dresser now takes the
etting stick, and placing the line of type
pon a flat surface, tightens it with a screw;
hen, with a piece of steel having sharp anles,
he rubs off the edges, turning the line
f type for that purpose. They are then
laeed, face downwards, in a vice, and the
rcsscr, with a plane, cuts a small groove in
he end, over the place from which the jet
as been removed. lie now carefully cxniines
the face with a magnifying glass, rescting
all such as are in the least imperfect,
.'he perfect types are now formed, and they
re placed together, side by side, upon a
mall board with a frame on three edges,
util there is a page. The page is uniform
3 size being 6 by 41 inches. A cord is then
rawn several times tightly around the page,
nd is wrapped up in paper ready for the
rinter.
Type metal is-readily fusible, and is comosed
of antimony, tin aud lead. These
re used in various proportions, according to
ac size of the letter and the degree of clascity
required. Lately, a process, by which
le face of the type is coated with copper,
3ereby increasing its durability, has been
dopted to a considerable extent.
Until withiu a few years there were but
iw varieties of type in use?now they are
) be counted by hundreds. They are cast
*om the most minute size up to large blocks
aving a surface face of IC square inches.
Of Diamond type, (the smallest size in *
sc) 201 lines measure 12 inches. Of an '
rcraged sized Diamond letter 81,274 may i
e impressed on a surface of one squnre foot; i
id there are Diamond spaces so small that 1
[)3,187 will go to a square foot, or 1,411 to
le square inch; and of these about 6,200 !
are obtained from one pound of metal. The
largest letter regularly supplied by type
founders is called twelve line pica; these are
two inches on the perpendicular face, varying
in width with the letter. The larger
sizes that we see on showbills, &c., are cut
in wood.
fl^No poet has written sweeter lines on
such a delightful theme than has Montgomery
on
Home?
There i8 a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night ;
Time-tutored age, and love-ezaltod youth:
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanted shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;
in cvurj' uuuie nic uiuguci ui ill 3 boui,
Toucheil by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend ;
Here woman reigns, the mother, daughter, wife,
Strew with fresh flowers the nnrrow way of life !
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie,
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet,
Where shnll that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man ??a patriot?look around ;
0, thou sbalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home!
"Tiie Worst Wheel Makes the most
Noise."?Never was maxiui truer than this.
Look at that woman, who is always usiDg
hard words?who looks upon the gayeties
of society with an abstracted air, and wonders
that any body, who has any mind, can
fix their attention upon trifling games and
frivolous conversation. Depend upon it, she
wouid. not need to act this farce, if sue had
real intelligence and imforma'tion. She is
'the worst wheel in the carriage and she
makes the most noise.'
Look at that benevolent bustler, with his
eternal schemes, all 'excellence for the poor.'
Thousands, of whom you never will hear, do
more good than he. 'He is the noisiest
wheel.'
Look at the politician, whose days and
nights are consumed in anxious cares for the
good of 'the people,' 'the dear people/ the
i injured people,'?whose tongue is worn
thin with abuse of the aristocracy, and warnings
against their monstrous thirst of power.
Have an eye to that man?he will play
the cyrant where he can?his democracy is
all put on. He is 'the worst wheel in the
carriage.'
Look at the lover, kneeling, and sighing,
and flattering?his eternal constancy will
last but a few months. He too 'is a noisy
wheel.'
See the religionist, for whom even the Old
Testament is not sufficiently holy reading,?
who is always telling the wonderful states of
his own miud, for the good of others,?
whose sleep is disturbed by the idea that
ships sail on Sunday. What do you think
that man is, when the eye of the world is not
on him ? 'The worst wheel in the carriage
makes the most noise.'
He not too eager to help those who come
to you with highly colored pictures of distress,
and loud complaints of discouraged
industry. The most virtuous among the
poor stay at home, and silently struggle with
their poverty so long as it can be struggled
with. The worst wheels are ever the noisiest.
Look suspiciously upon those publications,
that are continually boasting of 'unparallcl- i
ed success,?immense number of subscribers,'
of being 'eargerly sought for by all
classes of people !' Really good publications i
do not need such practices. If the regiment |
were already collected, they would not sound
the trumpet so loudly. The worst wheel is
the noisiest, simply because it is the worst, i
()bscrve that lady, who is so eager in pursuit
of the fashions, that her servant must
run with his band-box, lest fashion should i
out-speed him. She cannot endure the i
sight of vulgarity, and tells you she thinks 1
it extremely unlady-like to know what one i
is to have for dinner. She uses cologne at <
the mention of a mechanic; and apologises i
to you again and again for having any un- <
fashionably dressed person of merit in her
rooms. Why docs she talk so much about
gentility and rank ? Her father was a bricklayer
and her husband was once a mason.? ,
She is a fool herself; and therefore she sup- <
poses others are fools. 'The worst wheel is
always the noisiest.' i
Lastly, do not judge of a carriage by its |
noisiest wheel. All the intelligent should j
uot be judged ot by tbe pedant: an repun:i- ]
cans ought uot to be classed with the dema- <
gogue; every religionist is not a hypocrite; ,
and a few proud and silly women must not ]
condemn the whole world of fashion. When j
you hear a very noisy wheel, remember it is 1
the worst wheel. 1
Tiie Present Condition of the Jews. <
?At the present moment a Jew stands at i
the head of nearly every walk in life through- {
out Europe. The Eothschilds command the ^
money market of the old world. M. Fould, ^
Louis Napoleon's finance minister is a Jew. t
D'lsreali, a Jew leads the House of Com- j
mons; a Jew is Lord Mryor of London; in
Germany half a dozen of the most distingushed
professors are Jews; the great Neander
himself was one of them, and Mendelssohn
who was the envy of Goethe for his
power of language. In Spain, men of this
nation have, in former days, as professed
Jesuits, while secretly retaining their own
faith obtained direction even of the Inqusition.
In fact, there are few heights of power
to which they have not attained, as there
are no amount's of persecution they have not
endured. No matter what they undertake,
they seem to push it through with a vigor
and an enterprise that they carry their point
to the furthest attainable degree, and further
that will be reached by any other.
The ablest musician in London was a Jew,
Brabam, who retained bis voioe and bis po
sition till about eighty; forming his name out
of Abraham by the simple expedient of drop- <
ping the A to disguise his origin. And so [
in like manner the most distinguished actress
of Paris at this moment is Rachel, the ?
Jewess. It is doubtful whether the late war 1
in Europe could have been carried on with- i
out the aid of the Rothschilds. They lent 1
immense sums to both Russia on the one hand \
and the Allies on the other. They have ?
more recently offered to furnish the Bank of i
France with thirty millions in gold. These t
sons of Israel hold the purse strings of the s
world, are the real' Kings of Europe, and t
wield a sceptre of wider infljje^ce than did
David in the zenith of his fame.?Philadelphia
Ledger.
It may be added that in the United States, 1
they are no less prominent in the ratio of 1
their members. Several of them hold im- (
portant political positions. Mr. Benjamin, "
a Jew, is a distinguished U. S. Senator from (
Louisiana; Mr. luJee, a J ew, also repre- <
sects Florida in the Senate. Others of them '
have been conspicuous members of the House <
and some of them are now, and have been, J
distinguished members of the State Legisla- i
ture.?Charleston Xcics.
1
MR. BUCHANAN AT HOME. I
A letter from Lancaster, Pa., to the New 1
York Herald, dated Nov. 1, says : l
"On approaching "Wheatland the visitor \
is struck by the air of comfort and trimness '
that prevades the place. The mansion is a <
plain brick one, without any pretension to 1
architectural beauty, but the site on which i
it is built commands some picturesque views, <
and is shaded by fine old trees. It is a aim- I
pie, substantial, republican looking dwelling t
without any of the composite decorations ]
with which our city millionaires are in the i
habit of ornamenting their suburban villas. :
It has a warm, genial, homestead aspect, <
promising a hospitable welcome and substan- <
tial cheer to those who may enter its walls.
Previous to its purchase by Mr Buchanan it 1
belonged to Mr. Wm. M. Meredith, late Se- <
cretary of the Treasury under Gen. Taylor, f
and was built, wc believe, by a brother-in- y
law of Robert Emmet. I
On entering the house I was shown into 1
the library, where I found Mr. Buchanan i
with about ten or a dozen gentlemen, who i
were all unknown to me, but who, I believe t
were for the most part leading politicians of i
the neighborhood. The conversation appear- <
ed to be animated, and turned, of oourse, on ?
the subject of the election. Mr. Buchanan <
listened attentively to the remarks made, but <
took very little part in them. From his calm,
impassive manner, one would suppose him to I
be the party least interested of all the per- i
sons present on the subject under discussion. 1
It was many years since I Lad seen him, and i
I was forcibly struck by the little alteration t
which time and the cares of office had effec- ?
ted in bis appearance. He looked even
younger, fresher and stouter than when we i
last met. . 1
Nothing could be more kind or more cor- ^
dial than the manner in which he received
rac, although the motive of my visit was more (
of a personal than apolitical one. He is ex- ^
ceedingly fortunate in possessing so much
ban hommc of manner, for I can assure you
it is severely put to the test. He is beset by
hosts of visiters of all conditions, some of 1
them queer samples of humanity. Only -1
think of an enthusiastic female phrenologist
making a long journey to take a cast of his
head. Mr. Buchanan received his lady visi- ^
tcr with the greatest politeness, invited her ^
to dinner, and told her she was welcome to
examine anything she pleased about the t
premises, with the exception of his bumps.
You can imagine the mortification of this ar- j.
dent votary of science at being compelled to j.
leave without accomplishing the object of j.
herjourney. r
Mr. Buchanan's family'circle consists for l
the present, of Mr. and Miss Lane (his nephew
and niece,) Mrs. George Pitt, of Phil- ^
adelphia, and Mr. Appletcn, his late secretary
of legation in London. Col. Ramsey is
also on a visit with him. Miss Lane, a beau- fl
tiful and highly accomplished young lady, ^
does the honors of the mansion with the j
same grace and affability which gained her 0
30 much popularity at the head of her un- t
[ .le'a establishment in Lnndnn
"LIFE IS SWEET."
"What," Is asked a friend, who had been T
jn a delicious country excussion, "did you a
,ee that best pleased you ?"
My friend has cultivated her lore of moral, v
aiore than her preception of physical beau- c
ty, and I was not surprised when, after re- ^
plying, with a smile, that she would tell mc c
honestly, she went on to say : "My cousin ^
took me to see a man who had been a cler- j
lyman in the Methodist connection. He ^
had suffered from a nervous rheumatism, and g
from a complication of diseases, aggravated t
hy ignorant drugging. Every muscle in his c
body, excepting those which move his eyes
ind tongue, is paralyzed. His body has be- a
;ome as iron. His limbs have lost the hu- ^
nan form. He has not lain on a bed for 0
seven years. He suffers pain. He has in- e
rented a chair which offords him some alle- y
nation. His feeling are fresh and kindly, ^
ind his mind is unimpaired. He reads con- gJ
itantly. His book is fixed in a frame bebre
him, and he manages td turn the leaves a
jy an instrument which he moves with his ^
ommka Ua Imfl nn 5 w /?am n V? * win ^aIIawa t
UU^UC. lie iiaa au lu^uig ui iuii tj uuiiuto ^
rhis pittance, by the vigilant economy of ^
lis wife, and some aid from kind rustic
leighbors, bring the year round. His wife
s the most gentle, patient, and devoted of c
oving nurses. She never has too much to fi
lo, to do all well; no wish or thought goes f<
jeyond the unvarying circle of her conjugal e
luty. Her love is as abounding as his wants J
?her cheerfulness as sure as the rising of a
he sun. She has not for years slept two h
lours consecutively. d
"I did not know which most to reverence,
lis patience or hers; and so I said to them.
Ah !' said the good man, with a most ser- h
me smile, 'life is still sweet to y how cao h
t but be so with such a wife?'" 0
And surely life is sweet to her, who feels,
jvery hour of the day, the truth of ties
gracious acknowledgement.
Oh, ye, who live amidst alternate sunshine
and showers of plenty, to whom night
jrings sleep, and daylight freshness?ye
nurmurers and complaiuers who fret in the
jarness of life till it gall you to the bone?
ffho recoil at the slightest burden, aud
shrink frouua passing cloud?consider the
nagnanimous sufferer my friend described,
ind learn the divine art that can distill
sweetness from the bitterest cup.?"Mtis
Sedgxcick, in Union Magazine.
COST OF THE CONTEST. ~ \ -J
Few people ever think of the expense iu
:ash of a Presidential contest. Yot it is
eally something enormous. The vast m4jhinery
necessary to carry on such a canvass
?the number of organizations which it re
juires?the amount ot printing, of writing,
if postage, and of labor of every kind, which %
s brought into service, is far beyond any'
estimate usually formed. Let ns state , a
few facts, which may aid in forming an opiaon:
<' " - ,, ,
There arc about 800 counties, and not
far from 9,900 towns, in the thirty-one
States composing the Union. Every town
ias one political club of each party?and
nany towns have many more. There were
indoubtedly during the last canvass over
15,000 organized clubs, bclongingKo each
)f the political parties, within the United
States?the number of Fremont clubs may
may have been 5,000 less, since the republican
organization did not extend into the
Slave States. Each of these clubs was in
ictive operation for at least three months.?
Each of them required rooms, printing, postige,
more or less travelling of their officers
ind committees; and these, with other inciiental
expenses, could not have amounted?
}Q the average, to less thaD 8100 a month
?or 8300 for the canvass. The labors performed
by their secretaries, president and
committees would certainly amount to the
steady services of at least three men each,
ivorth not loss than $100 each for the whole
;hree months. Not lees than 1,000 persons
aave been actively engaged, for nearly the A
whole of the canvass, in making speeches
ind public addresses?traveling from place
:o place, and always at an expense which
nu8t be met by somebody?and entitled, of lourse,
to have their ovrn services estimated
it a fair price?probably $500 for each, including
their expenses, would not be a low
estimate.
Then on election day there are opened in - *
;he United States not less than 50,000 polls,
it which each party stations not less than
ive men, besides the inspectors, policemen
?nd other legal officers, who average, perhaps,
ive more, making ten in all, whose services
ire worth at least two dollars each.
Let us sum up the aggregate of aH these
terns:' fjy J
incidental expenses of 40,000 clubs at
$300 each ;. 12,000,000
Services of three men each, for three
months at $100 12,000,000
)ne thousand speakers for three months
at $500 600,000
)fficers, challengers, &c., at the polls 1,000,000
Total $25,600,000
Here is a total of more than twenty-five
nillionsof dollars expended in the canvass.?
Yew lvr/c Times.
TO YOUNG MEN.
Young man ! save that penny?pick up
hat pin?let that account be correct to a
arthing?find out what that bit of ribbon
losts, before you say you will tako it?payhat
half dime your friend handed you to
nake change with?in a word, be economical,
le accurate, know what you are doing?be
lonest, and then be generous, for all you
lave or acquire thus, belongs to you by every
ule of right, and you may put it to any good
ise you please. It is not parsimony to be
conomical. It is not miserly to save a pin
rom loss. It is not selfish to be correct in
rour dealings. It is not small to know the
?rice of articles you are about to purchase,
ir to remember the little debt you ?we.?
JVhat if you do meet Bill Pride decked out
a much better suit than yours, the price
if which he has Dot yet learned from his
ailor, and he laughs at your faded dress,
,nd old-fashioned notions of honesty and
ight, your day will come. Franklin, who
rom a penny-saviug boy. walking the streets
rith a loaf of bread under his arm, became
, companion of kings.
"Take care ot the pence, and the pounds
rill take care of themselves." La Fitte, the.
elebrated French banker, leaving the house
o which he had applied for a clerkship, was
lot too proud or careless to pick up* a pin.?
Phe simple pin laid the foundation of his
mmense wealth. The wise banker to whom
ie applied saw the act, called him back, and
;ave him employment, being convinced by
his simple act that he would be a valuable
lerk and a useful man.
Be just, then generous. Benevolehce.is
great duty, by which you not only benefit
he object, but feel a sensation of joy in your
wn soul, worth more than gain. But genrosity
can never be measured by the amount
ou lavish on a fine dress, or that you spend
9 gratify vanity and folly. Let the girls
ay you are small, rather than spend a dolir
for a useless book. Purchase good books,
nd they will tell you that no girl worth
aving ever selected a man for a husband on
ccount of bis long tailor 8 bill, any more
ban on account of bis long ears.
5?* A gentleman in the American Agriulturist
states that he thoroughly cured a
ne young mare afflicted with the heaves, by
jeding her on cornstalks, and that the disase
never returned. The writer quotes
udge Buel's opinion as to cornstalks being
remedy; that distinguished agriculturist
aving had a horse afflicted with that disorer,
which disappeared after being so fed.
We have the authority of the Clevemd
Plain Dealer for stating that "Kansas
as quit bleeding." Can the sample said
f Gerrit Smith and Moses H. GriinfU ?