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VOL. 2.
\ . 'whiffy .41 t ; -** V i*t !'* K> / >-><^
. 1<%
^outtjcrn CnttrpriHt,
A. REFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS.
wnniiLiiAiei rp- iPi&iicsmj,
%# *.< - v editor and proprietor.
>L- Tr,Jm*?.iMLHi? '
l to, payable In advance ; |2 if delayed.
CLUBS etf FIVE and upwards tl, the money
In every instance to aeeorapany the order.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at
the mtes of 75 cents per square of S linos, and
t$ eents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising made reasonable.
A.QENT8.
e. w. caftr, N. W. cor. of Walnut and Third-st,
PKiln^plnlnn i? nnr itiifKnri7Ail Atronf %
W. W. WALKER, JR., Columbia, S.*C.
A. M. PEDEN, Fail-view I'. O., Greenvills Diet
WM, C. BAILEY, rieasantGrove, Greenville.
CAPT. R. Q. ANDERSON, Cedar Falls, Greenville
Dhm ^mr'0 SbbrtaB
OF THE CARRIER OF THE
SOUTHERN ENTERPRISE.
% b - Good
morning friends?tlie Carrier with ranch
cheer
Would wish you all the blessing* of the year;
And hopes to fiud, where'er his footsteps fall,
A happy home, with comforts shared by all;
And trusts that each and every friend to-day,
The N?vr-Year's hours may joyful pass away :
That health pnd peace, and blessings rich and rare,
Way be by all enjoyed, without a care.
With all his hopes dispensed to all around,
A wish for ttlf, most surely will be fonnR; ,
Not words of praise?the Carrier thinks that these
May do for men their many friends to please,
He hopes to hear his friends, true friends indeed,
Who may this sheet and simple rhyming read,
Hay with a heart o'erstockcd with lovo and joT(
"I'm glad to meet the little Carrier Hoy,*
For every week With promptness true and sure,
He brought himself the paper to my door,
And often does a grateful feeling rise.
To bless the Carrier of the Enterprise 1
And pledged myself the coining New-Year's day,
Would find roetrue to give substantial pay;
And often thought how it will make him laugh,
When he receives his righteous due?a half,
Now, friends, do Uiink what blessings papers are?
What news they bring from quarters near and far,
llow they portray, in colors bright and true,
Tlio world's confusion at a single view;
How Hussions, Turks, and French and English
anus,
Display their skill in war's most dread alarms;
>Vhat noble feats by either has been done?
What battles fought?what victories have been
won;
And each arrival bids these thoughts arise;
Which side will gain, the Ilnosians or Allies!
Fpt many years will France and England yet,
i,ook on uie war wiui rawing* 01 regret.
Let nations drink of war's most bitter cup,
Lot Turks and Russians eat each other up.
Long may wo fool that wo are highly blest
And with our lot oontcnted, quiet rest.
While plenty crowns the labors of the year,
In grateful thanks may all our patrons share.
The Printer Boy, has come this Tuesday morn,
To beg of you to open plenty's horn, *
And let him have, what conscience bids you give,
A New Year's gift, to help him on to live:.
He does not beg?he scorns the very act,
. But claims what is his own ip fact.
And at this time when custom opes the way,
He oomes to get his yearly honest pay.
In sweet Spring time, when nature, calm, serene,
Puts on her dress of purest, brightest green,
"Whenblooming flow'rs bedeck the hills and plains
And' birds pour forth their sweet and lovely
statffca;
At early dawn the Carrier plods his way,
Nor stops to court the pleasures of the day, ?
Knowing full well that ere the sun doth rise,
His patrons wait to rsad the Enterprise.
And, too, he comes whsn Summer's grows
* .. ^T?nn, -3P
When eloudt pre pregnant with theeotning storm:
H? h??di not rain?though lightnings rend thl
Idea,
Still co hie way with Southern Enterprise,
Greets every friend; and brings the latest new%
V&r all hie Mends and patrons to pernse.
And still he comes when Autumn months draw
I nmr' '
And-earth puts on her garments brown and sear,
Whs* gnddeeaj seems settled all around,
And withered leaves are strewn upon the
ground,
) When .lovely birds end flowers oeese to bloom,
A*d shed around their fragrant, sweet perfume,
fespiteofffets, rude autumn deignaAo bring,
Tha Carrier eosses, as oaove he in the Spring.
Wha%?V later eomee, that eeaaon bleak and drear
And saiiaalwiiss howl in strains at wild despair,
v When piercing blasts in wildestdhry blow,
^ And earth puts on fc?r purest mantle, snow,
While fAbide at home, by firm mag and warn
Head not the Mast, ?r feel the pelting storm, ^e
Camer ^ ^ J ^ %
k r*c ^
\ m ly I 111 B^Jt< n
GREENY! LL
For many months ho has not soon the time,
When ho could show the value of a dime.
But hoped the day with rapid strides would
"come.
When ho oould show, though small, a handsome
sum,
And sure enough, the New-Year's day is hero.
And all seem filled with mirth and joy andohoer,
Then do not shun the Carrier's simple prayer,
If times are flush pray let him have his share,
Though small it he, a welcome it will find,
And treasured be forever in his mind.
So farewell friends?my course ie onward still,
I have ataek and dnty to fulfil;
To every friend I say with words sincere
I wish yon all a happy, happy year.
% Clioire $tonj. j
From Ballou's Pictorial. "
SCENE IN A VILLAGE
8 a f - ft an to. <
BT HORACE B. STAMFORD.
Tn the fall of 18?, I was travelling from '
Ithaca to Buffalo, in New York State, by 1
stage. It wr8 a bitter cold morning when 1
we set out and the roads were frozen hard, 1
there having been considerable mud only a 1
few days before. The first night we put up
at Danville, and on tho following morning,
when I awoke; 1 found that the earth was
not only covered with snow, but that the
snow was then falling fast. After an- early
breakfast we sot out again on w heels, but at
the end of eight ruiles wo were forced to take
runners, the snow clogging up so that the
wheels would not run. When night came
we found ourselves forced to stop at a small
village only twenty miles from where wc set
out in the morning.
A good supper was provided at tho inn,
and the place had the appeal ance of comfort.
We had just vet down to supper when the
wind began to blow furiously, and jve could
see by the dim light without that the snow
was hsinir whirled and driven nhmit in a
furious man nor. There was a fire in a small
sitting-room, and thither we passengers,
six o? us, adjourned. We sat there and
conversed until near nine o'clock, and then
I went out into the bar-room to smoke a cigar,
previous to retiring.
In the bar room I found a bright wood
f\re burning, and some dozen people were
sitting there, smoking and drinking. /This
was long before the introduction of Maine
Laws.) Several of the company I judged
to be teamsters; a rough, hardy, good-natured
set, who were enjoying themselves hugely
over a big mug of flip. Then there were
several whom I found to be villagers?ufen
who lived near the inn?sort of village politicians
and news-mongers, who made the
bar-room their place of social evening meetings.
I had lighted my cigar, and taken a seat
near the fire, when 1 noticed a buffalo skin
on one end of the long settee opposite to
where 1 eat, and I was confident there was a
human being beneath it. I supposed it
might be some stable hand who had been at
work hard, or who expected to be up most
of the night, and was now getting a little
sleep. 1 was looking at. the buffalo robe,
and thus meditating, when I heard a low,
deep, death-like groan come up from beneath
it, and in a few momenta more the ;
robe was thrown upon the floor, and the
man who had reposed beneath it came down
upon the top of it, and there he lay for
some moments like a dead man. 1 bad just
started up, when four of the villagers and
one of the teamsters hastened to his assistance.
They lifted him to his feet,' and after considerable
effort he managed to stand up.
My God! what a thrill struck to my heart
when I saw that face. It was one of noble
features; a brow high and amply developed,
over which clustered a mass of dark, flossy
ringlets; the face beautifully proportioned,
ana each seperate feature moat exquisitely
chiselled. But what an expression rested
there now ! The great dark eyes had a va.
cant, idiotic stare: the face was pale as death
' and the Hps looked dry and parched, and
much discolored. His elothes were torn
and soiled, and one of his hands bloody.?
He was surely npt more than five and-thirty,
and bis appearance would at once indicate
a roan of more than common abilities.
But the demon had him, and. had made him
into something now below the brute.
"How d'ye fee! now, George p asked one
of the men who Ink) gone to hi# assistance.
Hut he only groaned in reply, and ho w?e
soon persuaded to He down again, being
told that he'd soon fed better. As soon as
he was on the settee onoe more, and the buffalo
over him, the men returned to their
seats.
"Who is that chapP asked one of the
teamsters, looking towards the villagers who
bad been amisting the unfortunate.
vThat!rf George Lock land,'' returned a
> stout, honest-looking man.
"Does be belong here P
"Yes. Didn't ye never hear of him P
The tearitter replied that he had not
"Well," resumed the 1st man, "it's too
bad.Ideclare 'tie.; Look land might be one
of Use first men m town if he'd a mind to ;
hat ye see be dill dftak; and the worst of it
rj M .
J- m
E, S. C.: THURSDAY
?, he makes a fool of himself.' He can't
.ouoh it without doing jiutae he's beep dong
now. He started here as a lawyer, and
? smart one he is too. Why, he can argue
>ld Upham right out of his boots. But ye
tee he's lost all his customers now. They
laren't trust him with business, 'cause he
lint sure of ever doing 'it. He's got one of
the beautifullest little wives you ever saw ;
ind one of the handsomest children. But
poor things 1 1 pity 'em. Then there's another
thing : rum operates different on him
From what it does on most folks. It doesn't
ihow itself outvide, as it does on a'most everybody
else, but it seems to eat him up inude.
Ye sec how pale he looks?well he's
d ways so when he's on ono of these times.
He caa't eat nothin,' and I don't s'posc he'll
put a Di't of food into his stomach for a week
to come.r
"How long has he been so ?" asked the
teamster.
"How d'yo mean ?"
"Why, how long both ways! How long
lince he took to drink, an* how long since
lie's been drunk now t"
"Well, he's took to drink more qr less
6ver since he come homo from college ; but
it's been only about a year that he's been
right down hard At it. Ye 9ee folks began
to find out how slack he was in his business,
and they wouldn't give him any jobs of consequence
to do. 1 s'poee that kind o' set
him a goin' in this fashion. And as for
this drunk, I should say he'd been on it a
fortnight. He's got down now about as
low as ho can get and live, and I guess he'll
get sober in a day or two."
"But where does he get his liquor T" asked
the questioner.
"You must ask Mike Fingal that question,"
was the other's answer.
All eyes were turned upon the landlord,
who now stood behind the bar. He was evidently
troubled at this turn, and he moved
uneasily upon his high stool.
"Mike Fingal," spoke the teamster, "do
you sell that man rum f"
"Yes, I do," the fellow replied with an effort.
"Don't I sell you the same when you
call for it I"
"But I aren't a poor drunkard, and you
know it. That aren't no excuse. Mike, I
shouldn't think you'd do it."
"But when he wants rum he's bound to
have it, and if I didn't let him have it somebody
else would," the host said.
"Now that's old," energetically pursued
the teamster. "On the same ground yon
might take a pisiol and go out and rob folks,
because if you didn't, somebody else would.
But that isn't here nor there. The thing is,
1 don't see what kind of a heart you can
have to do it."
The conversation was here interrupted by
a sound from the street. The wind-was
still howling madly, and the snow was driving
against the windows, but above the
voice of the storm came the wailing of some
one in distress. It was surely the cry of a
child for help. We were all upon our feet
in a moment, and the lantern was quickly
lighted. My hat was already on my head?
or cap, rather?and I went out with the rest.
All went out but the landlord and his
wretched customer who occupied the settee.
It was some moments before I could see at
all, the snow came driving in my face so:
but I soon managed to turn my bead, and
then went on. The wind, as it came sweeping
out through the passage to the stable,
had piled up a huge bank of snow across the
street, and in this hank wo found a female
with a child in her Arms. She had not seen
the huge barrier of snow in the dark, and
had got completely fast She seemed faint
and frozen, but yet she clung to her child.
The man who carried the lantern held it up
to her face. The features were half covered
with snow, but the momentory glare of the
lamp was sufficient to reveal to me a face of
more than ordinary beauty.
"Heavens !" uttered tho men, as he lowered
the lantern, and caogbt the woman by
the arm ; "Kate Lockland, is this you !"?
But without waiting for her to reply he turned
to the rest of us and cried, "Here! take
the child, some of you, and Til carry the
mother.''
The child wm quickly taken, and ere
many moments we were Wek in the barroom
with our burden. The two were taken
to the fire, sod the snow brushed from
them.
"Who's them t" asked the host.
"Only Kate Lockland and her child," answered
thefatmtn.
"What d'ye bring 'em in here for F the
host uttered, angrily. "Why didn't ye take
'em to yer own house, Jim Drake!"
"'Cause my qwn houso is too far."
The host was coining around the bar, and
his eye was flashing with mingled shame
and anger, but before ho got fairly out, the
atout, burly teamster who had saiu so much,
started up.
"Mike rings!," he uttered, in toaes such
as only a man confident of his own physical
power can command, "don't ye put a iingei
on that woman. Don't ye do it. If ye do
I'll crush ye as I would a pisen spider 1"
Fingal looked the speaker in the eye for ?
moment, and then, muttering aoipathing
about a man's baring a right to 4o as b?
pleased in his own bouse, he slantaMW b*
hind hie bar again. L*
I now turned my attention to the womar
jtij 4!
Xwk>.M
* r" '
WSK: ^
w
m
~
MORNIM, JAN (JAR
! L~ I , . - .?_>.
a?d her child. The former was sorely not
yet thirty years of age, and she was truly a
beautiful woman?only she wns pale and
wan, and*her eyes were swollen. She trembled
fearfully, and I could soe her bosom
heave as she tried to choke the sobs that
were bursting forth. The child was a girl,
and about four years old. She clung close
to her mother, and seemed frightened into a
forgoifulness of her cold fingcra and feet.
"Kate Lockland, what in Heaven's name
are ve'doing out this night?" asked Jim
Drake.
"O, I was trying to find your own bouse,
JSin Diake, for I knew you'd give me shelter.
But I got lost in the saow. I wouldn't
have cried ou? in front of this place, but my
poor child did. Jim Drake, have ye seen
George? O.God have tuorcy on him I?
Poor, dear George! He don't know we are
r....?: ?i i
ncwiiii^ uuu oiitryiuj^, in our uwn IIUIIIC l
No fuel?no food?no?no?"
She stopped and burst into tears, and in a
moment more George Lockland leaped to
his feet.
"Who called me!" he cried, gazing wildly
around.
Kate sprang instinctively, but ere she
reached her husband she etopped. The
man saw her, and for a while he was riveted
to the spot.* Soon he gazed around upon
the scene about him, and gradually a look
of intelligence releived the utter blank of his
hitherto pale and maniac face.
"JTofuelJ no food /" he whispered, gazing
now upou his wife. "Starving! God
havo mercy I Who was it said those
words ? Where am I ?" *
"George! George!" cried the wife, now
rushing forward and flinging her arms about
her husband's neck. "Don't you know me?"
"Kate ! No fire ?? there's fire ?"
"Ay, George Lockland," said Jim Drake,
now starting up; "this aren't your owu
home. Dou't ye know where you are ?"
Again the poor man gazed about him,
and a fearful shudder convulsed his frame,
and his bands involuntarily closed over his
eyes, I knew that the truth had burst upon
him.
"No fuel!?No food !" he groaned.
"O, sir," whispered the wife, catching
Drake convulsively by the arm, "take us
away from here. Do."
"But you're cold, Kate."
"No, no, no. It's only a little way to your
house. 1 shall die hero !"
"Will you ffo.homo with me, George ?"?
Jim asked of me husband.
"Anywhoro!" grasped the poor man.?
"U, my Uod y INotuel I JNotood I Jiate!
Kate! Are you hurt ?"
But the wife could not speak, and as soon
as possible the fat old villager had the lantern
in readiness, and half a 'dozen went to
help him.
"Come," he said. 'Lead George one of
you. You take Kate?you are stouter than
I?and I'll take the little one. This last was
spoken to the stout teamster, and he took
the wife in his arms as though she had been
an infant.
"It's only a few steps," said Drake, as he
started to go. "I'll send your lantern back,
Mike Fin^aL"
And with this the party left the bar-room.
T went to the window and saw them wading
off through the deep snow, ar.d when
they wore out of sight I turned away. The
host came out and began to explayi matters;
but I was sick enough already, and with an
aching heart 1 left the room.
On the following morning I came down
to breakfast later than usual, for 1 bad slept
but little through the night. About nine
o'clock the driver came in and told us the
stage would be ready in five minutes. I
went into the bar-room for a cigar. Jim
Drake had just come in to bring back the
old cloak they had wrapped around tho
child tho night before.
"What'll ye have this mornin', Jim ?" f
heard the landlord ask, as he set out a tumbler.
"Nothing," returned the fat man, emphatically.
"I'm dorte, Mike Fingal. I'm done
with that stuff. I'll drink no more of it. I
woldu't have come now, only poor Lftckland
was up, and his sweet little wife was hanging
about hit neck. They was cyrin' so that
I couldn't stand it, and I had to clear out.?
O, it's dreadful, Mike Fingal. You don't
know what them poor things have suffered !
But thev shan't have mv ex amnio at; v muro."
"All ready P shouted the driver. And I!
was forced to leave. The wind had gone
down; the air was sharp and bracing, and
i slowly we wallowed away from the village,
i I reached Buffalo two days later than I
had expected when I set out. and having
transacted my business there, I went on to
the MMaiassippi, and so on down to New Orleans.
Four yearsjtfierwards I had occasion
' to travel that samo road again, and stopped
, in that same village to take dinner, 'im
bar was alill open, but Michael Fingal had
i gone away. 1 walked out after dinner, and
I soon came across a neatly painted office,
over tbo door of which 1 read; "Gborok
Locklamo, Attorney end Councellcr at
LawIn less than five minutee afterwards
t I saw a fat, goodnntnrcd man coming to[
wards me, whom I at once recognised as Jim
> Drake. As he came up I said :
"Excuse mo, sir, but 1 wi?l\ to a>k how
Mr. Loeklaad is getting on now."
i "Squire LocUpnd, yoa wcaw f' he an
'* ", ma
'SBBjr *
HE ' i . ..
I'S gjj A3
Y 3, 1856.
swered, with a proud look. "You know
Mm then ?"
"I did once," aaid I.
"Tlien you ought to know him now. Ho
is the first man in the county?the first man,
sir. * Four years ago this next month that's^
coming he was just about n? low as a man
could be, but he started right up, and now
lie's almost as high as he can be. Did ye
ev??r know the Squire's wife ?"
"I have seen her," I replied. I saw that
Drake didn't recognize me.
"But you should sec her now. Ah, 'twas
a great change for her. Thai's their child?
mat nine gin coming luis way. Aint there
a little pictur for ye ?"
I looked and saw a bright eyed, sunnyliaired
girl of some ciglit summers, coming
laughing and tripping along like a little fairy.
She stopped as she came to where we
stood, and put her arms to "Uncle Drake,''
as she called the old man, and while he was
kissing and chatting with her, I moved on.
I looked back once at that happy, beauteous
face, just to contrast it with the pale, frightened
features I had seen ou that disinal
night, in the bar-room.
JUisctllontnus Utaiiittg.
Noting Itndel* fiifficuliie*.
A correspondent of the Knickerbocker'
furnishes to the Editor of that journal, the
following amusing sketch of tho purity of
the elective franchise in theStalo of Ohio.?
We should like to have grasped the hand of
the patriotic fellow, who was so anxious to
vote the "tig whicket," if it were not for the
fact, he fin ally backed out:
'In tho north-west portion of tlid State of
Ohio, in the county of Auglaize, there is a
township, the citizens of which arc principally
German, and notwithstanding their
'sweet accent,' they are all Democrats of the
regular'unterriiied'stripe From the time
of the erection of the county up to the year
eighteen hundred and fifty-two. there had
never been a Whig vote cast in the township
spoken of, although thero were over six
hundred voters; but at the fall election of
that year, upon counting the ballots, it appeared
that there was one Whig amongst
them. There was the proof, a regular
otrnifhin..* Wl.!/. ll.L.. 1 .1 J
r?-vw. vi iinu nicy uiiru nut
pass it by. This caused great commotion ;
their escutcheon whs dimmed ; there was a
Whig amongst them; that blot must bo wiped
out, and with their courage (Dutch of
course) up to fever heat in the shade, they
went to work slyly to find the man who had
dared to vote the " Vig Dickelbut theii
labors were unsuccessful. In the meantime
another year rolled round, and the good
beeples' were again assembled at the election
precinct. It had not been forgotton,
however, that at the last election somo one
had voted the 'Vig Dichetand it was now
the subject of open remark and wonder.
| 'While they were having an out door discussion
of the subject, Sain Starrett, a late
immigriint from the eastern shore of Maryland,
cgme along, ar.d demanded the cause
I of the commotion.
'Veil, ve vas vondering vho it was vat voI
ted do Vig Dicket at the last election,' said
I _t 1 Tv i
hu oia juuicuman.
'It was ine,' Sam said, and it wa'nt nobodv
el8o!'
'I dinks not,' said the old Dutchman, and
the balance shook their heads incredulously.
'I tell you it was though, said Sam, pulling
out a Whig ticket, 'and may I bet-hew|
ed up if I ain't going to do. it again. I ain
going to vote that (holding out the ticket,)
and vote it open, too. I'll let you know
that I'm an independent American Citizen,
i and I'll vote just as 1 please, and you can't
1 help it, by Jemima !'
So in he went to desposit his ballot.?
There sat the three old Dutch judges of election,
'calm as a summer morning;' and true
to his word, Sam handed over his ticket,
open. One of the old judges took it, and
soanning it a few seconds, handed it back
toward the independent voter, and said:
'Yaw, dat ish a Vig dicket.'
'Well, put it in the box,' sc.id Sam.
'Vat you say !' said the old Dutchman, his
eyes big with surprise ; 'put him in de box V
'Yes-sir ee, put it in the box ! I ain goin'
to vote it!
'Oh ! no! nix good, nix goot! dat ish a
Vig dicket,' said the old Dutchman shaking
his head.
'Well, I reckon I know its a Whig ticket,'
said Sam, 'and I want you to put it in the
box. darnation (jtiick, too.'
No, no! dat isli not goot; dat ish a Vig
dicket; we not take 'em any more, said the
old judge, turning to receive 'goot dickeU'
from some of his German friends.
Jb.
Sara went out and cursed till all wna blue
?said he had come thar to vote^ and he'd
be flarabergasted if he wa'nt goin' to vote in
spite of all the Dutch in the township. So,
after cooling off a little, he agAin went in
and tendered hit ticket, v$ry neatly rolled
up. The old judge took it again, and notwithstanding
Sam's demurring, unrolled it
and looked it over; then turning to Sam in
a manner and tone not to be misundeatood,
' '/ tells you rial i(,h a Vig dicket; dat ii
fr ; ^ ? J
. . -JF9 ' ilA'iK m
mm
e?t?.S9
NO. 34
ish nix goot ; and dat we not take V/? any
more P
'Sam ngnin retired, cursing all Democrats
generally, and the Dutch particularly* ami 4
assigning them tbo hottest corners of. the
brimstone region ; and was going to cume
every body that didn't curse there, when he
was inturrupted by an old Dutchman in the
crowd, with:
'Sam Sterrett, Ilclls you vat it is, if you
will vote' der Diinergrat dieket, and leef deer
gountv, we gifs you so much tnonish asdakes
you vcre you cum'd vrom.'
'Sam scratched his head, studied awhile,
and then said that he had c ?rhe tliar to vote,
Httd wa'nt goin' away without votin,' he
guessed he'd do it.
'Again Sam made his appearance before
the judges, and tendered his vote. The
same old judge took it, and looking it over
quietly, turned to Sam and said :
Yaw, dat ish goot; dat ish a Diraergratic
dicket 1' and dropped it into the box.
'It ia onlv further necessary to say that
Sam went back to the Eastern shore at the
expense of the township ; and that, at tAat
election, and ever since, that German township
has been O. K.
'That is what 1 call preserving the purity
of elections.'
I KNOW HOT WHY.
I know not why mv brain so wildly thrillcth
Whene'er my trembling band is clasped in thine J **"
! I know not wiiy my heart so strangely filleth
j When those deep vyes aro looking into mine.
| I know not why each word that thou hnstimaken
| Is trcnsurcd in my mcin'ry like n spell;
And why I trembled lest that spell be broken
Is more than my bewildered tongue can tell.
I know not why to thee alone is given
Such power to stir the wild waves of my heart;
I A nd when, to quell their strife, I've vainly striven.
One word of thine hna bid the storm depart. t
Yet leave me, love, if crime there be in loving;
Go, ere my soul is burdened with the sin;
Go, for thy presence is too sternly proving
A heart, at best, but weak and worshipping.
Go with those eyes of deep and glorious splendor,
Ere yet they haunt my very life away;
v.o, wiui mni voico so low, so sweet, so tends*;
Go, dearest, go 1?bat no, in pity, stay I
The cradle is a woman's ballot box.?
So says Lucy Stone. Some of them put
in two votes at once, which an exchange
says is illegal.
Tom Ilood said that when he was a
young man, he could'nt wink at a gill
but that she took it for an offer of marriage.
The consequence wrs, that a good many
of the girls got hood-v/inked.
A man, being reproved.for swearing, replied
he did not know there was any barm
in it. "No harm in it," said a person present
; "why, don't you know the commandmont,
'Swear not at all ?" "Why I do not
swear at ?//." replied he ; " I only swear at
those who offend me."
Tint Blue Hen.?"Delaware will never
yield an inch to New Jersey," said a patriotic
Delawarian when the Pea Patch case was
being tried.
"If she did," replied a Jersey Blue. "sLa
would lose half her territory."
An Editor Poverty-stricken. The finances
of the editor of the Elk ton (Ky.) Banner
are in a desperate condition, fn an appeal
to his subscribers to pay up, he says:
"Friends, we are almost penniless?Job's
turkey wns a millionair compared with our
present depressed treasury ! To-day, if the
price of salt was two cents a barrel full, we
couldn't buy enough to pickle a jaybird 1"
A Georoia negro was riding a mule along
and came to a bridge, when the mule atppped.
I'll bet you a quarter," said Jack, "111
make you go over this bridge," and with that
struck the over the cars, which made
him nod liis head very suddenly. "You
take de bet den," said the negro, and he contrived
to get the stubborn mule over the
bridge. MI won dat quarter anyhow," aaid
Jack. "But how will you get your money!"
said a man tfbohad been close by, unperceived.
"To-morrow," said Jack, "maaaa gib
me a dollar to get corn for de 'mule, ana I
take de quarter out."
a
r ^ ~ r
* ww at i.< contentment J To tit in the
house find see other peonle stuck m the mud.
In other words?to be better off than our
neighbors.
) i ? ? ?4
Litkrahy.?Tlie anthor of the Widow
Bedott Papers, in which there is a good
deal of fbn, was a modest but eeoentrie
young lady, by the nstne of Miriam Berry,
of Whiteborough, New York. She married
Rev. B. W. Whicher, of that town, and
j died young. Certainly none but a woman
1 could ever run on as the widow does.
[ IWI I .
What is idleness ? Work yellow mountains
on a pink subsoil?or a blue tailed ddg
1 in sky colored convulsions.