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... ' _ ;v,,2Euf'' tt i H I u i Itirl bHBHBhmhm *f j ': ^ , > REFLEX OF roriJLAR BVEXTS. I <? "^^DITQR AND ^ *1 90, pnyable in advaneo ; $2 if delayed. CLUB3 aO'IVE and upwards $1, the tnouey Wevery inlWlnce t? aeeompnny the order. At)VEBTIBEM^frrStnttfrted conspicuously At the tftteidf 75 tx-nta per square of 8 lines, and ">25 cento lor each subsequent insertion. Contracts for yearly advertising rtmde reasonable. LrottibniD bt t. j. a j. m. mac.] , $?ltrfrli ^paetrq. yoqpg 6lrih)es. bt n. p. sniLLABBM, ius "ifKo. Partington" OP THE BOSTON TRESS. Old Qrimosis dead, that good old man, Wo ne'er shall see him more; But ho has left a son who bears The name that Old. Grimes bore. He wears a coat of latest cut, His hat is new and gay ; Ho cannot bear to view distress, So turns from it away. His pants arc gaiters, fitting snug, O'er patent leather shoes ; His hair is by a barber curled; He smokes cigars and chews. A chain of massive gold is borno Above his flashy vest; His olothes are better .every day Than wero Old Grimes' host. r*W In Fashion's courts he constant walks, Where he delight doth shed ; His hands arc whito and very Bof^wEj But softer is his head. lie's six foot tai^0?tpost rqoro {straight, His teeth are pearly whito ; In habits he is sometimes loose, And sometiinos vcy tight. His manners are of sweetest grace, His voice of softest tone; His diamond pin*0*th*?vory one That Old Grimes used to own. A dicky tall adorns his faco, .4His neck a scarf of blue, He sometimes goes to church for change, And sleeps in Grime's now. He sports tin fastest "cab" in town ; Is always quick to bet, He nover knows who's Presidont, But thinks "old Tip's" in yet. Ho has drank wiues of every kind, And liquors cold and hot; v Young Grimes, in short, is Just that sort Of man old Grimes was not. Bote Jo CoteteenceBusiness. One of the wealthiest merchants of Now York city tells how he commenced business : I entered a store and naked if a clerk was not wanted f "No," in a rough tone was the answer, all being too busy to bother with irife, when I rellocted that if thev did not want a clerk they might want a laborer, but I was dressed too fine for that I went to zny lodgings, put on a rough garb, and the next dav went into the same store and demanded if. they did not want a porter, and again, "No, sir," was the respense?when I exclaimed Almost in despair, a laborer!? Bir, I will work at any wages. Wages is not my object?I mn*t have employ, and I want <to bo useful in business." Iho last remarks Attracted their attention; and in the end I ' was hired as a laborer in tho basement and sub-cellar at a very low pay, scarcely enough .to keep body and soul 'ligethor. In the basement and M&cellnr I soon attracted the Attention of tho oounting house and chief clerk. I saved enough for?employera in lit tie wastes to pay ray wages ten tubes over, and they dmi found it out. I did not let ' anybody gdnafeout committing petty larcenies without remonstrances'and threats of expos ure, and real exposure if remonstrances >,vouhl not do, I do not ask for any ten * itraur law. lp wasted at. three o'elock, I hever growfe^ Bht tol<J everybody to go home and I wqpld see everything right. I leaded off at day-brake, packages Tor tho iPftrning boats beoamo inaispensible to my employers and I row) flTid until I became hsadLof thy house, With money enough, as y&t see to give me aox luxury or any position a mercliantile man may desire for' him elf and his children in this great pity. KnttfUig* w <**?cioua truth ; boyosm ?"g, * F* *<* it and poakw it, it ofton neither Vvth wr conscinfwt. At * '. f ?/- . i,.: v | HHH8B888|B58PHS88y55SIH!?8S9SH!5y6HHS5i ' ' '4, . * ' Stti (Drigranl ^nptr. For th? Southorn Enttrprlso. Ibc ^3lo^3 EwNl. I SY LUrrONITELD. , IIark 1 Tho villnge bell is tolling, and j gentlo bree7.es waft the sound onward.? i Mournful tidings I It telle of crushed hopes; i bleeding hearts; tears of sorrow, and tioe j sundered. And now the Silent procession leaves the j house of weeping, and slowly proceeds to j the houso of God. Tho c?*h is draped in j 1 r 1! i . s- t 4 a - iiuiuK; lur h origin- ngnt iins gone out; a pillar has fallen, a good man has gone to his rest Wo shall soo him no more in the \ sacred desk where so often ho has proclaim- ed ''the glorious gospol of the Son of God." ' No gracious words will ever fall from his lips again, to comfort the mornor, cheer the ( believer, and strenghten the weak. No more j will ho visit the dwelling of the rich and the i lowly, like an angel of mercy, bearing glad 1 tidings to all around. more shall we see him go down into the water and bury willings converts in tho liquid grave. No , more will ho break tho bread and pour out I the ruby wine, nor dwell on tho love of that 1 Savior, who has said "this do in rcmom- ' brauoo of mefor ho is gone, ho is gone.?;. , "The postilenco that walkcth in darkness" h*h j visited him ; an arrow from the quiver of i the death angel hath wounded him; he has ' fallen, he is dead, And ravon looks, And marble brow, \ Are resting in tho coffin now. I A gravo is yawning in tho church yard; a ' coffin is before tho pulpit, and within ittliero Is a body, without a spirit. The firo of tho , oyo is extinguished ; health's roses no longer , Ll .1 1- -l 1- - i>- .t- f . UK/uiii uu uiv uuw yn 10 cuct'K ; lor me irosa of death has nipped them. The tell-tale pulse havo cwwed their boating; life's current has returnetfTo its fountain, and ehalt flbw fWtfr no more fcrever. Tlioso lip9, which spalce such burning words, aro now silvered by the finger of death; but they,are encircled Ivy a smile of holy triumph; for in his last moments he could feel to exclaim: "I am now ready to bo offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. J have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept tho i aith: Henceforth there is laid up for i me a crown of righteousness which the Lord, tho righteous, Judge, shall givo me at that <!?> " * wL ' The dead ana tho living havo met together?God is the maker of them all. Now let us look once more upon "tho last of earth." Now close the coffin's lid. Farewell, dear pastor, but a little while, and we shall meet again; for, thanks bo to God, "we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an bouse not made with hands eternal in the heavens." Mournfully rises the funeral dirge: ".What A 1 t_ it. - - i* - J. .!? M mougn wo arm 01 conquering (loam.? Fervent tlie supplications at a throno of grace: "though we are chastened, help us to kiss the rod that smites us." Appropriate the text: "Blessed aro the dead who die in the Lord." Precious promise; cheering messenger 1 a balm for tho wounded heart?a comfort to the sorrowing. . Now bear him to his resting placo ; consign him to his mother earth. Close the grave gently?'tis the last ye can do. Place a garland on its bosom, and leave him there. "Afterlife's fretful fover he sleeps well#" Oi dry your tears mourner, suppress your sighs; for he "is not dead, but sleepeth." Thero lot him rest 'till a voice from the skies, Shall wake hfs dull oajr, and bid him arise. To join the bright angola, who come with their < Lord, , To bear him to Ilcavcn to dwell with hu God. , Greenville, S. C., June 1, 1855. Tub question as to whether smoke can he consuraned in private houses has been attempted to be solved by Dr. Amott, by the introduction of his improved rmoke-consupiing fire grato. The grate is designed forjho ordinary fire grate, having uuderneath it; in lieu of tho under-bars, a square iron coal box, which has a moveable bottom. In tho morning this box is filled with coal, and tho fire is then built and lit in the ordinary manner. As it consumes, instead of replenishing it with coals placed upon the top, by means of a bent poker, which acts as a lever, the bottom of tho coal box is to be pressed tip, ancLthun supply as much fuel as is 're* quired below tho fire, v Of bourse thero is no smoke, and it Is warranted to bum fourteen hours with 20 Ibe. of coal. * tf ^SS * . -.* .<,. * / / -, x^^^c^^srsri ENVILLE, S. C,: E$ *3tt 3ris!) ^ant. * nog!) n c. Onos upon a ^tno, and, m story tellers ?aid many years ago?yes! I mast \n frankness, own tho melancholy truth, though^ Joes unpleasantly remind me that I am hot ilear so' yotlrig as 1 was, but am rapidly has- j Lening towards that undesirabk period of life poetically termed "the awe and Yellow leaf** I remember hattM read eorne where?or was it one & tho ?any well-told taloe, with which my good dUtrSpectacled grandmother was wont to amuie mo ??tfi highly humorous account of an unlettered Patlander's cheat, successfully practiced uoo^j ? pnixi, wno was noi oxacuy prepared on ?ll occasions to disabuse his mind of a lurk- , ing affection for tho currencyy?or*n other words, who, in common with this money icraping world of our in general, was somewhat sorely afflicted with an itohingpalni, and ! not always in possession of the sublime virtue of granting the favors of the churcl^Sphout a fair equivalent; and no wonder, let mo ask the momentous question, can the clergy, any more than tho laity, livo upon tjieair? Sorry I am that my mind, at this moment, is disposed to bo a little freakish, vexatesis ly declining to furnish tlm account as Iread or heard it, which I woulcPgladly have it do^ for the entertainment of your readers who linve so obligingly tolerated my occasional omanations ; or perhaps, it would only be Jecorous in its justification" to say, that at this distance of time, one can hardly expect its pristino vigor, or quondam unfailing "fidelity ; that memoir, tho key of the mind, like avery dftior belonging "to nature, is subject Jo declensions, especially so after arrival sat maturity, and that, despite tho most careful cul' Livation of its powers of enchantment, the ( Lime will come whom it cannot summon, as in -days of yoro, tho immediate apparition of by goncs from tho vasty deep of the past. I must, therefore, pray indulgence, when re-, memberance, utterly fails to couch the Anecdote in my own homely diction, promising an earnest endeavor, at least, to naptf j it readable and understandable; as much sen as so humble a pen as mine is can make it, aa. Uriah Hpep migh4 say; but as J yoqhl bo understood to say, without a little oftlraC black-hearted scoundrel's mock humanity. Pat Donoghue?may his choice fraternity increase aud multiply 1?was of a *jlass of raev. fun-lovinir. Imicrlit^r-nrnrnkinnr />har*r>. - V 1 - -- --"0? O I 1> ? ~ ters, to bo often encountered among tho Irisb peasantry. Like Kory O'More, he was a broth of a boy, though Rory's antipodes in morals. In tho free and easy nature of his habits and- disposition, he was the fac simile of the mercurial, mischievous valet of Chas. O'Malley?nay, it might bo shrewdly surmised ho was tho great prototype himself of that dcvil-may-carish individual, and Lever had him in his.mind's eyo when he drew Mickoy Free. Bo that as it may, certain it is that, like Mike, ho had a coolness of assurance, positively refreshing, and the highly national quality of aseeming simplicity, perfectly matchless in the eventful history of such rogues, although in the estimation of too partial friends, it did not often happen that Pat was deemed more knave than fool. He was, too, blessed to a degreo quite enviablo, with that happy talent of mating tho boat of everything?and that ready adaptability of himself to all circumstances, how ndverso or prosperous soever, which wo all so hugely admire, but do not equally possess. Although, also, "a holy Romau," lie was by no manner of moans so intensely devout as his illustrious namesake of sainted memory could bavo desirod ; and consequently praying and fasting and the like observance, so rigorously exacted by the apostolic church, rarely shared, and never liberally, eithor his time or thoughts. Unfriondly whispers of tliis srarulolum maynatium would not unfrequontlr reach the religiously nice ears of the good Fathor Maurice O'Rourko, the parish priest, who considered him indebted in an amount of penance, discharged only by a life of uninterrupted devotion and repentance. Such a lifo he either despaired of living, or regardod as a work of supererogation. Yet, iiko many of his betters in such a strait, he cherished the forlorn hope of chance, some fine morning, bringing him gratuitous forgiveness. Not that he never experienced a conscientious qualm, for as the rhymer tells aa, "When tho devil got sick, tho devil a saint would bo.' So'our hero, whenever any misfortuue from sicknem ro other cause be iei mm, was went to do vjsiiea wiin tne koenost apprehension,for misdeeds whilst in' hcal'h ; but liko the prince of fallen angels, also, whenever there was a prospect of convalescence? The devil a monk was he." Tlicre was one circumstance that, above all others, disturbed bis tranquil self-oomplaeWcy. Ilis father, who, while Wring, preferred the boisterous jollities of the rosy nodA to the serene boautitudes of the church, had, when dying, directed a sum of money to be expended ill masses for the repose of his soul, and its speedy translation from pargntory to n more congenial abodo. Now Fat hsa duly and trnly compiled with the dying wishes of his deceased parent, in having the required oercxucciet performed,and baa' D^Y MOUMNH. .U N i_4tl thua, j^? be thought, procured tho happy liberation of hjs erring father's immaterial part; but ho had found it expedient to omit remunerating the priest for transacting so skilfully tho blissful busiuoss. 'Only think of it, good ^ christians 1* ho wouT?*e* claim, as ho lay stretcliod upon his bed, Jurying accidently dislocated a joint, and frqjftftfcto excruciating pain the inflammation f^Hfecd. imagined his dissolution approachKlgW^fcly think how F dccavcd lm rivir$&?>laOh, holy Mary! what w?/f become of ??rSend, do send for Father Maurice,4till he cd? fosses uio ?' Accordingly a rocssonger wanHspat^Jihfti, with au instruction to make his uitdorti|wdings dfljthcir speedy utmost, for.U?pnest, who in not haste arrived ; and, en to A* g on tho tiptoe of expectation the ajluSnent which Pat lay, ho ordered those who xfere prosent to withdraw, affd forthwith bcgiua kis spiritual task. 'Well, Pat, said ho, what troubles yon V "Oh, tourther! murther 1 your rivirence?" shriujeed the penitent, agonizingly, as his conf^por, iu leaning over tho couch, tho better ?oe and hear him,chanced to place his liAh&xatlier roughly on tho swollen limb. '(Xd of heaven ! murder is it ?" asked the pries, with a look of holy horror, for tho moment ft compfbte and certain annihiintor of all and every hope of absolution ; and ho pr6uygd for a s6ul-harrowing tale of blood. murther, your rivirencc, but perhapsasbiul or worse;' and Pat paused as if in deep mental anguish and afraid to go on. ipomo, come," said Father Maurice, pityiqjhr and encouragingly, 'let me hear it.' *Y<^P!l not bo too severe with mo?" queried Fat. * tPftraed, pray proceed,' said his fevorenoa, Earnestly. That's what I want, but caucot do\' 'Cannot what ?' ^Pray, plozo your rivircnco,' meekly anSpred Pat. ^{f'Como, air, no trilling ! what would yon coi^s?' demanded the priest, impationtly. Well, if I must, I must,'said Pat, in a tonic of devaporation. 'D'yo recollect ould Falluy Dan McCann?' 'Ye*f.hu was my predocessor in the parish.' ho over toll your rivirenoo that I robffiqbMfl bim V exclairaocl tho confessor ; irobb-'d " priest! I fe;v> thoros little grace' left for such a ctffhe ; bnl i?r ? go on,' 'Well, your rivirencc, when my fathor, rest Ms soul, died some years ago, L wont to Father Dan McCann and says I, 'Father McCann, plazo your rivirenco, i wunt my father out of purgatory.' Tm the man 'II do thnt for ye,' says lie. 'Darlin yo are,' says I, 'shuro I'm for ever obliged to ye.' 'Of coorse, Pat.' says l>o, 'ofcourse 1 kuow yo nro ; but sure a gintl^inan of your manes won't forget tho clargy in respect of that same." 'By no manes,' says I. 'whatever your revcronce axes you must get.' . 4Well, then, says he, 'ail I'd expect is a five pound note.' ' 'And you paid him,' remarked Father Maurice. 'No, vour rivirence, there's wcro I played tho devil; and when Father McCann eaiuo for tho money, says he in a voice of lionoy, Pat, your father's snug in heaven now, so 1 hope you'll rcmoinbcr your promise.' 'I'm glad to hear it,' says I. 'And so you ought,' says ho, 'for I novor had more trouble with tho likes of that before.' 'There'* no fear of his getting out?' I axes 'Divii a taste,'says lie, 'for I've settled him there harum scaruin.' 'Harum scarum !' repented Father Maurice; 'you mean secula seculorum, I suppoae.' 'Mny bo so, your rivirence! I'm not larucd, and (liu?mi>mber the exact words.' 'No matter?proceed.' 'Well, you see as I was resolved not to pay him at that tiino, at las to, I began questioning liim agftin? 'IIow am I to know that he's in heaven?' Won t you tftko your priest s word jor itf asked Father Dan. 'Troth and I'm sorry to ssy and I won't,' says I soft and easy. 'Ancl why not. you vugabonel' says he, flying into a mighty tanthrum. 'JJekaso I won't,' snysl,waxin warm, 'and that's a purty reason, bekeseit's n woman's; but I'll tell you what I'll do though ;' and I axes him was ho on speaking terms with St. Pether. 'Father Dan looked at mo awful serious, shook his head gravely and muttered, 'Sure I am, and with all the saints also, yo blaggard.' 'Go to him, then,* says I, 'and bring rae a recoipt for my father.' With that the clergy shook his head again, clenched his flat and stamped like mad. 'Don't bo so hoity toity,' says I, and the ould boy?-holy vargin ! mother of God 1 forgive me for taking his narog in vain at this presont?was spurring mo all the while.? Don't be so furious,* says I, 'or,' says I, 'maybe I'd be afther putting you to the trouble of proving Saint Petnor's handwriting.' That bothered bim completely, for he cut his Mick in a furious rage, and the last word I heard him ear, was, he'd eRoominunicato me lb* a god lose heathen, no 1m would j come (r * X'S I'O A3 E 8, T855. * | what would, ^febm that timo aftor ho never I darkened my door.' Tho gravity of the ghostly adviser was . never ueaser being upset, when Pat had reached tho catastropho of the hoax ho had played on his reverend brother, and with difficulty he repressed a smilo. Pat, who, on making a jdcan breast of it, had been gradually gathering confidence, was now looking him full in the faco, and, quickly poroeiving his embarrassment, brightened up with tho hopo of obtaining absolution, or at least of being lot oft' with tho iutlictiou ofsomo trifling penanco. 'Won't your rivirenco absolve mo? for sure amn't I heartily sorry for doiug so dirty a thrick and that on my own priest ?' 'You'll havo no objection, thon, I prosumo, to hand over the sum in question to me V demanded the successor of Fathor McCflun. Iv nnrl 1 Uot'o !??? J- * .?*.% VM'M o IIIVIU VUUU A 111 ilUIC IU UU | at this present minit,' was tbo reply, which was really the truth, for though Pat. possessed, in a stocking hard by, the needful, whore- ' with to satisfy, the priest, vet, in his disabled stato, it was quite impossible for him to riso ( ami lay hands on the money. "You're a great sinner then, Mr. Donog- \ hue,' said Father O'liourke, with ill-disguis- | ed chagrin, 'and must do mo ponance bo , forolcan give you communion. You aro , too feeble, howevor, at present; I will seo you again as soon as you aro able to undergo!; the punishmentso saying, tho priest went his way. Tat recovered, and was scarcely himself again, when Father Maurieo paid him the threatened visit. *JTou arc to take off your shoes, fny good man,' says ho, in proscribing the act of atonement Pat was t<j perform for tho affair of St. Peter's rccoipt, 'ami walk from this to Killshin twice every Sunday for six rveeks to come' Pat looked unspeakably crest-fallen and muttered as tho priest retiroed 'I must oniy bonthrivo and do what your rivirencc saysl' At tho expiration of Pat's weekly pilgrimage, Father O'Uourko again nitlVM r<v! ~rr??VM, "JLIow aro your feet?' lie asked villi au arch smile. 4As well as ovor,' was the clicerftil answer. 'Let mo seo them,' requested tho priest. Accord i ugly,jPat with alacrity "uncovered them and sinirkingly prosontcd tho solos thereof, for clerical inspection. i dccUro they are,' crjeckthc priqst iu astonishment. 'What did you put on them V 'Boots, to bo sure !' and Pat laughed con 8umedly. The truth was out. Pat fiad literally followed the injunction of tho confessor, but had slipped ou a pair of boots, conceiving that he had a right to do so, seeing that wearing boots instead, on tho occasion-, had not boon specially interdicted. Father O'Rourke was consummately incensed at having been outwitted; he lectured, threatened?vowed ho'd manago hi hi this time at any rate, and ordered tho per-! formanco of a similar course of pedestrian-1 ism, witu peas in ins riiocs or boots if lio chose to wear them, binding him to its due fulfilment on pain of the church's everlasting displeasure. After the necessary lapse, Father Maurice appeared once more, lie was on horseback and apparently in haste. Pat had just returned from his last journey. "Well, how are your foot now, Mr. Donoghuo ?' asked the priest emphatically. "Party well, I thank ye. I'vo a fino poultine on them.' 'Didn't I caution you against that?' demanded the frood father, toatilr. 'What. i? | it you have to thorn !' 'Only the pays your rivironco told mo to put in tlie brogues. 1 hope there was no harm in bilin' them.1 And again came forth tho truth. Tat, in depositing tlio peas in Uis boots, had first taken tho liberty of boiling them to mealy softness. The spiritual director of consciences, burning with indignation at having been a second time gallingly duped, was furiously engaged in disentangling his whip, in order to inflict summary personal chastisemont on our hero, when Pat, eluding his observation, succeeded in goading the flanks of the rover end gentleman's nag with a thorny stick ; at which, was vory natural for a well brod horso to do undor such heels, carrying its sacred rider over half a dozen hedges and five barred gates, and ending in generously troating him to a fragrant plungo-Lath in tho verdant waters of a duck pond. Father Maurice, like his predecessor, Fathor I>au, never again crossed the threshold of Pat's dwelling, and long after would the priesthood be roady to exclaim with the 'fair one with tho golilcn locks, whenever L Pat made his appcatwooe: "Very our confidence has lost us; Aro vou tho devil, sir. Of Doctor Faustus >' Jonah wroto to bis father after the whale ?rst swallowed lilm.Atatin^ fhat he thought he had found a good opening for a young man going into the oil burincee?but afterwards wrote for money to bring him home, stating that he had txren rurked in. A Duetts the Dau*.-w-A late California paper mentions a duel wtiich Was fought between a Yankee and an Englishman in a dark room. The Yankco not wishing to have blood on his hands, fired his pistol up the ohimney, and to his horror, down come the Englishman. yiWW ' ""*F^r4JL' 1 & .? t?a?i?9 :> tHQP^V - iKvi^yL'^ ipuynirVtlffii V i n r " 1 ' 1 " * ; * NO. 4. Strtmsfmg Jtiisrtllnmj. JLooH to ?esu3, In every enjoyment, O Christian, look into Jesus : receive it as proceeding from lm ovo and purchased by his agonies. In evory tribulation, look unto Jesus : mark hi* gracious hand managing the scourge, or mingling the bitter cup: attempering it to n proper degree of severity ; adjusting the time of its continuance; nnd ready to make these seeming disasters productive of real good, tufirmity and failing look unto Jeans, thy merciful Iligh Priest, pleading his atoning Mood, nnd making intercession for transgressors, ^In every.,prayer look unto. Jesus, - .iij prevailing advocate, recommending thelevotions, and boating the iniquity of thy ioiy things. In every temptation loot to* Jesus, the author of thy strength and captain >f thy salvation, who aloua is able to .lift uj> .ho hnnds which hang down, to invigorate .ho enfeebled krtees, and mAko thoo more .han conqueror over all thy enemies. But, ^specially when thy flesh and thy heart fail, when all tho springs of life aro irreparably breaking?then look unto Jesus, with a believing eyo. Like expiring Stephen, behold him standing at tho right hand of God, on purpose to succor his people in this, last extremity. V03 my Christian friend, when thy journey through lifo is finished, and thou art arrived on tho verge of mortality ; wlion tho? art just launching out into tho invisible world and all before theo is vast eternity?thon, O then, look unto Jesus. Soe by faith the Lord's Christ. View him as the only "way" to tho everlasting mansions ; as tho only "door" to the abodes of bliss.-?Ifrrvey* ^ c cp lr \\, 'A: The appended negro story copied, from r?. _ Southern correspondent of the Boston, Journal, is worth reading: - ucn. yj 'gavo his bhtcktflan,-Sawney, funds and permission to got a quarterns worth of zoology at a menngorio. Our sablo friend soon fbuiul himself under tho canvas, and brought, too, in fronl of a seriate looking baboon, and eyeing the quadruped closely, soliloquived thus : ("Folks?sure's ycr born, feet, hands and proper had coun^ianco^ust > Itfco nigger, gcttin* oltTl rocktm$ if seized with a bright idea, he oxtended h'a hand with a genuine Southern "How do'co do, undo ? Tho ape clasped tho negro'? hand and shook it long cordially. "Sawney then plied his new acquaintance with interrogations as to his name, ago, nativity and former occupations, but eliciting no replies beyond a knowing shake of tho head, or a merry twinkling of the oyo, (tlio ape was probably meditating tho best way of tweaking our friend's nose) ho concluded i ? mc ;ijh3 was oouna to keep non-committal, nnd locking cautiously around, chuckled out, uIIe, he, ye too sharp for 'cm, old feller. "Keep dark?if yo'd jist speak ono word of English, white man wouM have a Hoe in ycr hand in less dan two minutes." The Bible tiie Kev to the Heart.?Tf t had a lock of very complicated construction, and there was only one koj that would un*' look it, I should feel very sure that tho key was made by ono who understood tho construction of that lock. So when I una mm notwithstanding nil tlio winding aud mysteries of iniquity in a human heart, the Bible, and tho Bible only, is adapted to it throughout, and is nblo to ponetrato its most secret recesses?I ant constrained to believo that tho Bible was made by Him who "alone knowoth the hearts of tho children of nten."?American Messenger. Married axd Single.?How is it that girls can always tell a married man from a single one. The fact is indisputable. Tho philosophy of it is beyond our Ken. Blackwood says, "that the fact of matrimony or bachelorship is written so legibly in a man's appearance, that no ingenuity can conceal it. Everywhere, thoro is some inexplicabio instinct that tells us whether an individual, (whoso name, fortuno, and circumstances aro totally unknown) lx? or bo not a married man. Whether it is a certain subdued look, such as that which characterizes the lines in a menagerie, and distinguishes them from the lords of tho desert, wo cannot ted ; but that tho truth is so, wo positively affirm.'* The young lady that ran away with tho Mir?an of her heart, was over taken nt Rochester. Her attempt to oommk suicide br swallowing hor lover's ;boot jack, proveil a failure. The young man has turned hi* attention to navigation, and now drives at horse on the canal. When people "bust tip.** now suddenly* they recollect that they have several unclea in tho country who merit their particular affection, and with whom it would be "a sin and a shame" not to go and spend a month or two. Tho business of tho country ncvor appear inoro inviting that whou a depnty sheriff is after you. Reason governs tho wine man, and cu<lg els the fool.