The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, November 09, 1855, Image 1

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' ' ' " r "\ :"': C -'; . "" ^'" ":T; " .. ^ ill ioffi"**iimi? mows m*t>r VOL. 2. GREENVILLE, S. 0.: FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 9, 1855. . SO. 26. M?rtMUMMtWIHSnrm-r-T-Tllf I H1 I . ll?l JLjL_>l_l^_L_HM-ILM-ai_^Mi ll ' - % - ' ' i. - "?- H ' g Jjt ^out|itru (0nterpri3p, A REFLEX OF POPULAR. EVENTS. wua,asAi8a :P? ipjaaoa, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 1 SO, payable In advance ; ?2 if delayed. CLUES of FIVE and upward* #1, the money in every instance to accompany the order. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously nt the raids of 75 cents per square of 3 lines, and 15. cents for each subsequent ineertioh. Contract* for yearly advertising made reasonable. dDripnl ^oetrij. A SONG FOE THE BRANDY SELLER. Tux*?"OW Dan-Tuckcr." O* *11 tho crimen that e'er have heeu Selling liquor in the worst sin. Its caused morn mis'ry pain and woo. Than any other crime below. Got out. of the way, you brandy seller, Get oat of the way, you brandy seller, * Get out of Jhe way you brandy seller, You've ruined many a clever fellow. Yon're spread distress on every hand, And scattered strife nil o'er the land? You've turned the husband to a knave, And made the wife to be n slave. Oct out of the way, Ac. You've took the shoes from women's feet, And bread the children need to cat, You've robbed them of their winter clothes, Doft them naked and almost froze, Get out of the way, Ac. Yon'v^tnado the father hate the child, And drove the mother almost wild? When in his drunken sprees at night, lie often puis them all to flight. Get out of the way, Ac. You'va caused many a child to cry, And tears to utrooin from mother's eyes, When oft she's heard theni cry for bread. And hungry they must go to bed, Get out of the way, Ac. ,, You'vd robbed the strong man of his strength, And laid them down in mud full length, And left, him there to lie and roll. Drunk as a beast in a mud hole. Uet out ot Um way, <tc. You're guilty of the meanest tiling, Perhaps that yet has ever been, You've robed the rich, and wronged the poor. You've turned the needy from yonr door. Get out of the way, <te. You've crowned some mighty kings with mud, Some palaces you've filled with blood, You've brought some mighty cities low, And provsd some Nation's overthrow. Oct out of the way, Ac. And now I tell yon plainly, sir, With rum you know you've gone too far, You've led many a man astray, I warn you of the judgement day, Qet out of the way, dm. ii? ' 1 n'1' ''' i * 1 &VSt gim an. Ait Indian, who heard a sermon in a ^Christian settlement, who was much moved w tlie claim that he should "give up all to liod." The duty pressed upon his heart; le returned to bis wigwam, he meditated upon it, and at length solemnly resolved to lo what God U.ad required. First, he took lis rifle, and set it a part for the Lord; then lis fishing apparatus; then his scanty furniure; than hie blanket;?repeating as he let apart each article, "Here, Lord, take hat." Finding himself utterly destitute, laving given up alt, he yet felt that he was orsakcn of God, and was in great distress, The darkness of despair came over him. In its, his last^cxtremety, he laid himself upEn the altar saying, Here, Lord, take a poor i/(u?u?. a uu uuonug wna ncci'j?mju , anu i ere alone, bereft, of human help or hope, '4ii? poor despised savage, was delivered fom the power of sin, and made an heir of lory. lie soon learned to read, and was Supplied with a llible, which he made his aily companion; ho was happy in soliBide, or with Cbristain friends, to whom he Von remarked, that when lie gave himself K the Lord, the Lord gave him "all things." How to "Go It."?Go ff^rong in your *ise of the absent. Some of it will be sure get around. Hub it strong when you make love to a Hetty widow. Mord poople have erred by H> little than too much in this particular. Go It strong when taking up contributions W Jt charitable pnrpose, Ii will pay. #Go it strong whtfft ydti make a public tf^ch. ^ Nine jpcople out lik^' Li Jumn. ^ "" i 5ltt Siitercfiting $tartj. i.. ... . ... M i ...... I be Iogt Soy. Tiik editor of the Sandusky Mirror was formerly Warden of the Ohio Penitentiary. He gives the following as one of the inc:: dents which occurred while he had control of the institution: I had been a few months in charge of the prison, when my attention was attracted to, and a deep interest felt, in the numerous boys and young men who were confined therein, and permitted to work in the same shops with the old and hardened convicts.? This interest was muoh increased on every DVM* IVI AfWIUI JLMMIIU. no oaiiio, HV II matter of course, with the same pale uncom- I plaining face and hopeless gait, thinking no , doubt, that something had gone wrong and had been laid to hi* charge. I wan examining the Convict's Xj^egister, when I looked up, there stood?a perfect , imago of despair! I asked his name, ue , replied "Arthur!" Arthur |whatf said I , sternly. "Arthur??Lamb 1" said behes- 1 itatingly. ] 'Ilave you a father of mother living t" \ Ilia eye brightened?his voice quivered, as i he exclaimed: , "Oh, have you heard from mother t Is ( she alive f and tears, which I had never seen ] him shed before ran like great rain drops j down his cheeks. As he became calm from < suspense, I told him I had not heard from his parents, but that I had a paper I wished , him to read. He took the advertisement < which I bad cut from the paper, and as-he ] read itbe exclaimed: i "Thai is me I that is me!" And again j sobs aod tears choked his utterance. , I assured him the advertisement was all I y oould tell him of bis parents?and that aa I requested information, 1 desired to know ] what I should write in reply. The adver- j tleeraent directed information to be sent to t the Ckritiian CkronicU, New York. i ,4Ob, do not write," said he, "it will break j poor mother's heart 1" j I told him I must write, sod it jrould bo i a lighter blow to bis mother's feelings to ' know where he Was, than the |crfiblc uocjr- < Uinty which mart haunt her mind day ami I i i ' Wrc i if' . evening, as 1 saw them congregate in gangs marching to their silent meals and thence to their gloomy bedrooms, which are more like living sepulchres, with iron shrouds than sleeping apartments. These young men and boys being generally the shortest in their height/brougbt up the rear of the companies, as they marched to the terrible "lock step," and consequently most easily attracted attention. To see many youthful forms and bright countenances, mingled with the old and hardened scoundrels whoso visages betokened vice, malice, and crime, was sickening to the soul. But there was one among the boys, a lad of about seventeen years of age, who had particularly attracted my attention ; not from anything superior in bis countenance or general appearance, but by the look of utter despair which sat upon his brow, and the silent Uncomplaining manner in which lie submittod to all tho hardships and degradations of prison life, lie was often complained of, by both officers and men, and 1 thought unnecessarily, for light and trivial offences against the rules of propriety; yet he had no excuse or apology, and never denying the charge. lie took tho reprimand, and opcc the punishment, without a tear of murmur, almost as a matter of course qpetning thankful ?hat it was no worse. He had evidently seen better days, and enjoyed the light of home, parents and friends, if not the luxuries of life. But the light of hope seemed to have gone oyt?his health was poor?his frame fragile, and no fire beamed in his dark eye. I thought, every night as I saw him march to his gloomy led, that 1 would go to him and learn his history; but there were so many duties to perform, so much to learn, and do, that day after' day passed and 1 would neglect him. 1 learned that his name was Arthur Lamb, and that his crime was burglary and larceny, indicating a very bad boy for one ao young. He haa already been there a year, and had two yearn to serve. He never could outlive his sentence, and his countenance indicated he felt it. lie had worked at stone-cutting on the Stpte-houso, hence my opportunities for seeing hi in were less than though he lmd j woaked in the prison-yard; still his paleface ununiea rao usy ana nignt, nnd i resolved on the next Sabbath, as he came from Sabbath School, I would send for him and Icarn his history. It happened, however, that I was I one day ip a store waiting for the transaction of some business, and having picked up an old newspaper, I bad read and re-rcaa, while delayed, until at last my eyes fell upon an advertisement of "A Lost Bov! Information wanted of a boy named Arthur , (I will not give his real name for perhaps he is still living,) and then followed a description of the boy, exAotly corresponding with that of the couvict, Arthur. Lamb. Then there was somebody who cared for the,poor boy, if indeed, it was hi in?perhaps a moth- i er, his father, his brothers his sisters, who were searching for hin\g The advertisement was nearly a year old, yet I doubted not, and as soon as the convicts were locked up f uont A ofknw T T-T^ ? ? -rm?.1. ..... to my room, I drew from him in substance the following etpry: His father was a respectable and wealthy mechaoic'in an interior town in the state of New York.- That at the holding of the State Agricultural fair in his native town, he got acquainted with two stranger boys, who persuaded him to run away from hoino and go to the West. Ho foolishly consented with high liope4 of happy times, new scenes and great fortune. They caine as far as Oleaveland where they remained several days. One morning tho other two boys came to his room early, and showed him a lurge amount of jewelry, etc., which they said they bad won at tarda during the night. Knowing that he was in need of funds to pay his "hoard, they pressed him to take some it, for means to pay his landlord. But before lie had disposed of any ot it, they were all arrested for burglary, and as a portion of the property taken from tho store which had been robbed was in the possession be too, was tried, convicted. He had no friends, no money, and dared not write home, so hope sank within him. He resigned himself to fate, never expecting to get out of prison, or to see his paronUr again. Upon inquiring&)f the convicts who came with hirn on the same charge, I learned that what Arthpr had stated was true, and that hta only crnno was keeping bad company, leaving bis home and unknowingly receiving stolen goods. Questioned separately, they all toldthe same story, and left no donbt 011 my mind of the boy's innocence. Full of compassion for the little fellow, I sat down and wrote a full description of Arthur, bis condition and history as I obtained it from him?painting tho horrors of tho plnco, the hopelessness of being reformed there, even if guilty, and tho probability of his never living out his sentence, and describing tho process to bo used to gain his pardon. This I sent according to directions in the advertisement. But week after week passed and no answer came. The boy daily inquired if I had heard from his mother until at last "hope long deferred seemed to make the heart sick," and again ho drooped and pined. At length a letter came?such a letter! It was from the lie v. Dr. Bellows, of New York. lie had been absent to a distant city, hut tho moment he road the letter the good man responded. The fathor of the boy had become almost insane on account of his son's long and mysterious absence ; he had left his former place of residence?had moved from city to city?from town to town ?and traveled up and down the countr? seeking the loved and lost. He had spent the most of a handsome fortune; his wife, the boy's mother, was on the brink of the grave pining foe her first-born, and would not be comforted. They then lived in a western city, whither they bad gone in the hope of findiug or forgetting their boy, or that a change of scene might assuage their grief, lie tlmnked ine-for my letter which ho had sent to his father, and promised his assistance to secure the convict's pardon.? This news I gave to Arthur; be seeincd pained and pleased; hope and fear, joy and grief filled his heart alternately; but from thence his eye was brighter, his step was lighter, and hope seemed to dance in every nerve. Days passed1?and at last a man came to the prison, rushing frantically into the office demanding to eee the boy. "My boy 1 my boy! Ob, let me see him I' The clerk, who knew nothing of the matter, calmly asked him for the name of his son, "Arthur ?"No such namo on our books : your Bon cannot be here." "He is here?show him to me. Hero, sir, is your own letter; why do you mock roe." The clork looked over the letter; saw at once that Arthur Lamb was the convict wanted, and rang the bell for the Messenger. 7 "There is tho warden, sir; it was his letter you showed." The oiu man embraced me and wept like a child. A thousand times he thanked me, and in the name of his wife, heaped blessings on my head. But the rattling of the great iron door, and the grating sound of its hinges, j indicated tho approach of Arthur, and 1 conducted the excited parent into a parlor. I then led his son to his embrace. Such a half-shriek and agonieing groau as the old man gave when he beheld the altered countenance of his boy, as he stood clad in the degrading stripes, and holding a convict's cap in his hand, I never heard before. 1 bave seen similar scenes since, and became inured to them, but this one seemed as if it would burst my brain. I drew up and signed a petition for the pardon of tho young convict, and such a Jeep and favorable impression *'A the letter [ wrote in nnswor to the advertisement, have upon the directors, that they readily joined I n the petition. Gov. Wood was easily prorailed upon in such a case, and the pardon rras granted. Need I describe the old man's joy f How < le laughed and wept?walked and ran?all 1 inpatient to see his son set free I When | .he led came out in citizen's dross, the aopd parent was too full for utterance, lie mtg;cd the released convict Jo Jjis bosom and 1 kissed him?wept and ptfapd- Grasping 1 ny hand he tendered mo MS farm, his gold ? Mratoh; anything that 1 would take. I'ain- < sd at tho thought of pecuniary reward I took 1 Jie old man's arm in trrine, aofl hlu .>oy by 1 the hand, and escorted them to thg gate, lite- I rally bowing thein away. I never rhw thein more. But the young man is doing well, aa<l long may he live to reward the filial sif-' fection of his parents. This case may bo but one among a hundred where tho innocence of the convict is clear?but even where guilt is clear there should bo pity for youth, and some proper meana taken to restora them to the path of recitude and honor 1 Jftisrrllanrnua H railing. Origin of "Seeing f b e ? I c pfr q Of Some thirty years since, at one of the Philadelphia Theatres, a pageant was in rehearsal, 111 which it was necessary to have an elephant. No elephant was to be had. The "wild I>easts" were all travelling, and the property man, stage director and man agers, almost had iits when they thought of it. Ditys passed in the hopeless task of trying to secure one; but at last Yankee ingenuity triumphed, as indeed it always does, and an elephant was mado to order, of wood, skins, paint and varnish. Thus far the matter was | all very well, hut as yet, they had found no means to make said combination travel. Here a^ain the genius of tho managers, the "ago director and property man stuck out, and two "brothers" were duly installed as legs. Ned C , one of the true and genuine "b'lioys," held the responsible station of fore legs, and ror several nights ho played that heavy part to tho entire satisfaction of tho managers and the delight of the audience. Tho part, however was a very tedious one, as the elephant was obliged to bo on tho stage for about an hour, and Ned was rather too fond of the bottle to remain so long without "wetting his whistle," so ho set bis wits to work to find a way to carry a woo drop with him. The eyes of tho elephant being made of two porter bottles, with the neck iu, Ned conceived the brilliant idea of filling them withjjgood stuff. ^This lie fully carried out: and elated with success ho willingly undertook to play fore legs again. Night came on?the theatre was densely crowded wi h the denizens of the Quaker city. The music was played in sweetest strains ?the curtain rose and tho play began. Nod and "hinds legs" marched upon the stage. The elephant was greeted with round upon round of npplauso. The decorations and the v?cre gurgutwa. i lie eicpuaiu ailU the prince seated upon his back were loudly cheered. TWplay proceeded ; the elephant was marched round and round upon the stage. The fore legs got dry. withdrew one of the corks, and treated the hind legs, and then drank the health of the audidfice in a bumper of genuine elephant eye whisky, a brand, by the way, till then unknown. On <tent the play and on went Ned drinking. Tho conclusion inarch was to be mado?tho signal was given, and the fore legs staggered towards the front of the stage. Tho conductor pulled the ears of the elephant to the right?the fore legs staggered to the loft. The foot lights obstructed tho way, and be raised his foot and stepped plump into the orchestra? Down went the fore legs to tho loader's fiddle?over, of course, turned the olephantj'sending the prince and hind legs intothe middle of the pit. The manager stood horror struck?the orince and tha hind ler?s lay confounded, the boxes in convulsion**, Ibo actors clioking with laughter, and poor Nod, casting 0110 look, a Btraugo blending of drunkenness, grief and laughter at the Hceno, tied hastily out of the theatre closely followed by the loader with the wreck of his fiddle, performing various cut and thrust motions in the air. The curtain dropped on a scene behind the scenes. No more pageant?no more fore legs?but everybody held their sides. Music, acton, pit, boxes and gallery, rushed from the theatre, shrieking between every breath?"llnveyou seen tho Elephant?" Soil SesJ BO a pUO to the Ctllftjlre of iU heijt. All of our commonly cultivated plants are composed^f precisely the same elements, tho only chemical difference between the vast variety of plants being the relative proportions in which the same elements unite to form rue plant; so that if a soil will produce Any one of our cultivated crops it possesses the capacity, so far as the elements of plants are concerned, of growing any other crop to some extent. in judging ot Hie beat kind of plants to be cultivated on any particular aoil, thereforo, we have to look to the relative proportions in which the elements of plants exist in the soil, and adopt that class of plants which requires most of the particular elementa in which the soil abounds, or requires ionst of thoso in which k is deficient. This would seem to bo a common sense view of the subject, vet there are many other circumstances, often overlooked, which, if considered, would niaLerinliy nffect our conclusions In a largo srop'of corn thtre are all the dements which a large crop of wheat contains, and n?o in larger quantities, yd there are thousands of acres of land tliut produce immense crops of corn that cannot be profitably cultivated with wheat. A good wheat soil will always produce ft goo<T crop of corn if properly tilled, while nittch of our best com land will not produce wheat under ordinary culture. The cause of this great difference is not, we have shown, owing to a deficiency in the soil of any element of the wheat plant, for the re quireraents of the corn crop are identical in kind and greater in quantity than that of wheat. It must, therefore, be owing either to the manner in which the various elements are assimilated by the plant, or the existence in tho soil of somo substance, which though I sufficient, it roav exist in a com <>mn urvJi ? - j - t -? t w /m for tho actual demands of the wheat crop, yet from the different habits, of the two plants, a much larger quantity may i e necessary for the performance of the healthy functions of the wheat than the corn plant. This substance is most probably clay; for all soils, which experience proves to be the best adapted to wheat culture, abound with this substance and lima Tho reAson why clay is so much more necessary and be neticial for wheat than for corn, is not clearly understood. In light soil tho wheat plant is found to ! throw out its lateral roots verv near the surface, while in a clayey or heavy soil it is more inclined to tap, and the lateral fibrous roots are at a greater depth. In the former case tho plant would be more likely to heave out in tho spring, while in tho latter it would bc^better able to stand tho vicissitudes of cold and heat, from fho roots being at a greater depth, and having a firmer hold of the soil. It is therefore probable that one of the benefits which tho wheat plant derives from clay, is its preventing the extension of fibrous surface roots, and forcing the plant to grow out a single tap root, which descends much deeper and takes a firmer hold of the soil.? Gcncscc Farmer. SeqrOs b $. S Id o o f to Eqccs Many of your 'smooth faced* men say, wearing the heard looks unbnsiness like, aud forfeits confidence. Others assert that it is a piece of egregious vanity to wear the beard ; in fact, they seem to* consider that they have a perfect right to say everything ] inai is disagreeable respecting beards. In standing up in defence of beards, I must say that this assertion about vanity is utterly illogical. _A beard grows naturally on a man's face; undoubtedly, if we did but know it, for some good and wise purpose. Hair grows on the liead and eyebrows, as well on the cheeks and chin. Now if a man wore to shave the hair off his head aud brows, as ho docs from his chin, the chances are that he would be thoroughly laughed at, and yet one proceeding would not be a whit more senseless tfypn the other. There is one ccrtian fact I would mention with regard to beards. It is this: As a general rule, every man with a beard is a man of strongly-marked individuality?frequently genius?has formed his own opinions?is straightforward, to a certain degree, frequently reckless?but will not fawn or cringe to any man. The very fact of his wearing a beard, in the face, as it were, of society, is a proof that his heart and con- j science is above the paltry aid of a daily pcu- i ny shave. If men would notahavo from boyhood up, they would find their beards would be tlow ing, their moustaches light and airy, both adding a dignity to manhood ar.d a venerableness to age, to which shorn humanity must bo strangers. But tlio beard is not merely for ornament, it is for use. Nature never does anything in vain, she is economical and wastes noth ! ing. atie would never erect n bulwark were I there no enemy to invade it. Tho beard is i intends 1 as a 1 u'wark, and designed for the p: oteetion of the health. The bcurd has a tendency to prevent diseases of tho lungs by guarding their portals. The moustache particularly, as wo have already seen, prevents the admission of particles of dust into the lungs, which aro tho fruitful cause of disease. It also forms a respirator more efficient than the cunning hands of man can fabricate Man fashions his respirator of wire, curiously wrought; nature makes hers of hair placed where it belongs, and not requiring to be put on like a muzzlo. Diseases of the head and throat are also prevented by wearing the beard. II Jbidi-BeqdcO Ifusbqnd. A riot's old lady who was too unwell to attend meeting, used to send her thick-headed husband to church, to find out the text j tho preacher selected as Ihe foundation of ( his discourse. The poor dunce was rarely fortunate enough to remember the words of 1 the text, or even the chapter or verse where they could be found; but ono Sabbath lie ran home in hot h;isio, and with a smirk of self-satisfaction on his I'.ice, informed his wife ( that ho could repeat overy word without mis- ' sing a syllable. The words follow An angel camo down from Heaven and took alive coal from,the altar." *W'oll, let us have the tcxt," remarked the good Woman. 1 "Know every w<M," rej>Hc<l tlic husbnhd. "I aiu unxiouu to hear it," ro?tinneil tliel' wife. ' j iit "Tliey aro nice words," observed the hoeband. "I am glad yonr memory is improving hot don't keep me in snspense, my dear,* "Just get your Wg bible, and 1 wgl my the words, for I know them by hear*. W^y, I said tliem a hundred times on my way heme." "Well now, let's bear them." "Ahem," said the husband, tlewiay eot his throat. "An Ingen came down' ffom New Haven and took a live c>lt by the* tail and jerked him out of his baiter.1'*' Ibc iUqij li Sboijfd bt "MflTTtPO Kmo ? t1.? a-.? I " " id me uuur uwrrw l fld!. getting low; n said a finely built roaa-,an to paused for n moment before leaving tto house where hie grey-beaded parents lived; "I must send yon sorao I have lately bought of the No. 7 brand, just for you to try; upon my word it makes the nicest and sweefT est biscuit that I have tasted?and you'll sny so, 1 think." And next day came the barrel of flow, tot not alone. There was a good supply of,coffee and tea, and a dozen little niceties and all for the old folk's to try. That man knew the value of kind parents, lie was a eon to be proud of. Were any repairs to be done, he found out almost intuitively; and be never called upon them with his hands empty. Something "that mother loved,p or would make "father think of old times,"(invariably found its way into their pantry. AmThe actually seemed to like nothing so well as to leave in their absence some token of fondness and respect for those who had worn their lives out in serving him. But ah ! how many leave their parents desolate, and in need, or give them plate by their fireside where they expected to delve and work out the obligations. Is U any wonder that such individuals, conscious thai they are in tho way, grow quernlous and . fretful, and die, perhaps, unregreited. Others are ashamed of their honest old parents? shame on them?and koep them in some byplace, giving them a small pittance upon which they can barely subsist. A would-be fashionable young lady who had sacrificed everything to appearance, once told some of her newly-made acquaintances, that the familiar old man laboring in the yard, was the woodsawycr. Having gone thus far, she was base enough to carry out the lie, and when be came in for a moment, and stood upon the threshhold of the door with a childish smile warming his wrinkled face iuto sunniness as he gazed npon their merriment, instead of calling him by the dear name of father, she schooled herself to say, coldly. Dointimr to th? ?? , "C unu k pay you till the whole is done." The old father g.tzed f( r a m 'fluent in astonishment,coroprehended her duplicity, and turned away broken-hearted. Truly, then, the iron entered his soul, for "O! who can tell llow sharper than"a serpent's tooth it ie To have a thankless child." Sweeter praise cau never be than that a dying parent, as lie blesses the band that has led him gently from sorrow, and is even now smoothing the cold brow damp with tha spray of Jordan. And dear the thought a* your tears fall upon the sod that covers the j.-ay-haired father, that you were ever kind and loving to him ; that you gave cheerfully of your abundauce, and never caueed him to feel that you were doing a charity. Never can we repay thoee ministering angels we call father and mother. Angela^ though earthly, have they ever been, from the time that Adam and Eve gazed upon their first-lx>rn, as he slept amid rosea, while the tiny fingers, the waxen lids, and the cherub form, were all mysterious to them.? Willingly they have suffered for us, let us bless them in our heart of hearts, and alio# no love of gain or pride of position, to tear them thence. "Be kiml to thy mother, for lot on her brew May traces of sorrow be seen ; O! well nuv'?t rim" />><??!- ?' ' ?* * j mm cuimun ner now, For loving nnd kind haa the been. He kind to thy father, for when thou wert young, None loved thee so fondly m he ; lie caught the first aceente that fell from thy tongue, And emilel at thy innocent gleet" An Irish Wardrobe.?At tin auction sale in a country town, a trunk was nut up, when one of a pa ty of Irish laborers observed to a companion; "Pat, I think you should bay that trunk." "An' what should 1 do wid it ?' replied Pat. with some degree of astonish mont, "Put your clothes in it," was his adviser's reply. Pat gazed upon him with a look of surprise, and then, with that laconic eloquence which is peculiar to a son of the Emsrsdjl Isle; exclaimed?"And go **? Royal Anticipations.?The Iloyal Prussian Gazette states that Qaeen Victor^ and Prin e Albert are to stand godfather and godmother to 4m Prince or Princess which is shortly ?*poctcd to increase the Imperial manIv ??f France.