Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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a L - - . Awl 4 -'t *'$ -~t ~ *p -.4- - * DEVOTED TO SOUTIER RJGHlS DEMO01AY, WS LITENATURE, IN IJ;U4U ~J. FILANAS, PUTBISHlER or &rls e r onr ;A4JkL Al. NOAI e1DITOR. .O Ut g- Ot 0flfg-Qit* e.g.t * e* SUMTERVI-ILE, S. C. JANUARY 23, 10 TE BANNER: T E R M S: 7 '-.1?froDollars in aivance, Two Dollars and 016-cents altthe ex )iration of six ninths, or itiree Dollars at ..Ae end of the year. o paper discontinued until all arrearages et*'OWaul, unless at the option of the Proprietor i14Advertisements inserted at 75 ets. per "fe,(144lines or less,) for the first and Uthit sum for eati suibsegnent insertion 4E3rTheiunber of insertions to be marked 0 all Advertisements or they will be publisi. 0 m mtntil ordered to be discontinued, and hhtrged accordingly. IU"One Dollar per square for a single in efition.. -Quarterly and Monthly Advertise *ietts-vill lie charged the same as a single npttrtionxand semi-monthly the same as new rAll Obituary Notices exceedling six lines, And Communications recommending Cand Aie for public olfices or trust-.or pulling Exhibitions, will be charged as Advertise enteC-, - All letters by nail must he paid to in. stire-punctual attendance. -JO*1ev. FiEDERICK RUst, is a travelling X nt t'or' this plper, and is authorized to re-. ce~ye~stubscriptimns anal receipt For tWe same. THE SILVER FLAGON, thE OUTLINE OF A NOVEI. WRIT. TEN AT AN EAlUlX AGIE. * - - BY SILVERrEN. JIT was a-bright b.oad sunny day in June, some eighty years ago, so sultry ard'so hot, as to cause the two caged larks, .which hung outsile the open casement of old Adam Ii layward's win dow, to abruptly end their carul of green fields and cloudless skies, and perching in the dullest corner of their cage, t not even chirp in answer to the merry whistle of the old goldsmith of Clerkenwell. It wanted yet an hour to one o'clock, but the day being hot as it was, and the hamunor having elink e' from early dawn, there secmtl fair license for the clear, bright, tfoauing jng of ale which now stool on. the widh bnch ben ath the low diandwi-pan'd shop window. This, as it happenel too, was the sharliost side of the street. and, therefore, any passrs by mi st surely, on a dav like this. c:t-nom duva it. If so, scarcely one h-at cast a glance upon old Adan's face, ftr it was a merry and a kind one, as well as up on hi sparkling jug. At this bright hour of noon, tihe jig had'heen sipped but once, when --n thew cane a man as jovial, as nerry gla d, as sober and respectalde, as the working citizen himclf. Perhap the sight of the brown jug wns a cardi al-ke'y-notc of fellowship. for they look ed, and then nodded kinllv at each other. But even for this the stranger passin on might have been seen no more, had not a twinkling sun-beam stpaling into the shade, and flickering on certain of the little lozenge-saaped window panes show-d that there stood behind them an old chased silver flagon. As soon as ever he saw this, the stran get s:pped, looked, and seemed to wondor;,but this was no matter of sur prisefo the old goldsmith, for many a orili of far higher breeding thian this~ ol man, had stopped to look, not ocec, but twide. Presently the stranger drew near and questioned the gobisimith. At fir'st these questi.ms being common things, were lightly answered; but when the earnestness of the questioner was observed, the goldsmith invited him within huis shop. ~-'Tihe flagon, for its mere metal or shape, would not be a thing of interest to one in so humble a station as myself.' remarke the stranger, as lie followed the goldlsnmith, 'but that one similar to this is-linked to a dark tale of a stolen, parish register; tile flagon, being hart Lof the communion plate, was, as I have Valways believed, only taken as a mere blind to at more sinning purpose. My name is plain John Glover, the miller of Charnwood Forest, in Leicestershire, who, coming up to London yesterday for the first time in my life, can have been only led by mere chance into this street; which is as strange to mne as any other.' When the flagon had been viewed outside and in, round-rim and massive handle, the dlinnier was annonneed as being both good and ready, whereat tihe three apprentices ceasedl to clink their hammers, and the merry goldsmith chirping anidw to his liirds, not only in v'ited the miller to share his dinner, but .also to ta-ste the incomnpar-able ale. This merry meal gone by, thme gold tsmithi told all he- knew of this samue flag on. How thagixteen years before thuis fime, an fged Jew, with whom lie hadl long had dealings, had, in r-eturn -for Rome aet of kindness, given it to him; * 'thad been brought to tini Jew by 'otlhecary, whose name the gold. well.rmemnbered, was Lanigley,. ha'lhcen sold to him wvith strict .netionls to a speedly chanilge within -sieldingpot ; h'gw the nyster-y that inked tmoiritad its rare anmtique halit(I tile Jew to peserve it, till thus gihing it to the goldsmith, it beanme another's; and thus possessing it, how the goldsmnith 4"d placed it in his window, as a type dF his trade, and as a rare specimen of antiqiie chasing. This Jew had now been dead sone years, but old John Glover, of green leafed Charnwood, turning round and round that flagon in his broad fat hands, till his eyes glistened like the dripping water on his own inill-wheel, did pres. ently say that this same Langley should be sought for; whereupon, over another brown jug, old Adam Hayward did pledge that his own hammer should not again clink till lie had given a hearty helping hand. Days went by. No obscure lane or street was unvisited by the imiller. Apothecaries' shops were many, thick crowded in the strets where bread was scarce, where miscry kept watch mnd ward, where chutrchyards housed the countless dead, but no apothecary answering to the name of Langley could be found. As old John had come purprsely to London to settle some (lisputed clain with the agent of the estates on which he rented his mill, it was not till lie found the entire useless ness of his sarch that lie took in hand the real business of his jouiicy. This agent, whose name was Whitimore, liv ed richly in the western part of London, and being a man of many occupations, and havingr some secret reasons fur dis like, it was not till the honest miller had made many fruitless applications at the agent's residence, that he was admitted. Ile here had waited some time in a room adjacent to Whitnore's study, when the intervening door was gently opened, and there emerged a lean hunigrv-look ing man, wh>, when fairly ouit, and the door was closed. looked back upon it with a grinning leer. At length, as he passed the miller with a cat-like tread, and the leer still broad upon his face. the door was re-opened Ie Whit.nuore himself', who instantly saw the miler's wondering and curiou's look. The moment lie behld this, his coloiur went and camnie, and then like 0ite horeed into an act of grace, he bckont ed Johin Glover to follow hin. With a voice nunsual for its hlandne.s, Whitmore t:lkel; in all his wildest 'Ire:uins, the ol Imiller had ne ver sur po.d that the lImg disputed point about his aicienit lease would have been so so or so amicablv se'ttlcd. Evei wine was poitred out and ollered, even anl eniri v w:is cd-lil-sentidingly imide :i to the trout inl the tmil st ream; a1d ld John knew bh y the se sigis that f'ar was in this ha 1 mn's hieiart. S.mne evenings after this event, the goldsmith making his enquiries at a (irug warehouse in the citV, got tidinig, that an obseure ap(thecarv, answerin the description of Lan.e, canime ther'e s 'metimnes for drugs. Ho dwelt, it was said, in a garret, in some part of South wask. - That very night, the miller and the apothecary went thither to search and make enquiry. After much trouble, they 1ounil the apothecary's room, in an ohscuire houise, andt~ ascending fut-r fliglats of a coinuon staiircase, and pass inmg (loot-s rotting on thteiir last hinge, amnd haunmts of abje~ct squalor er riotous profusion, they knecked, and entering, beheld the matn they sought. I Ie was evidently stai v'ing; vet, still his eves glistened as they add rc .ed him, as if they mnetedl out, and weighted in a broad balancee, somet hopeful secret. A v'ery small fire burnt in the wretched grate, a sauceepani simmneredl, whieb emit tinig a savoury smell gave signts of supp1er-; and one k nif'e, one Iplat e, otce can dle, and one susp1 iciouis hott le, gracedI the solitary table beside which L~angley sait. Whitmnore, thte friend of this Lanmgley. was now a man past tmbldie life, anid had been agenit to an ancient famil y of the name of Verdun for many year's. - Originaldly of extremely low birth, lhe had been noticed, when a hov-, fi- his aptitude in such lear-ning a;; is commion ly taught in fatr-away country- schools. For aptitude thus shown he'had beeni fostered by the Verdunrs, and raised int position by being made thir steward, anid afterw"ards their agent, sonse thirtyv years before this inquit-y b~y the milki-r and1( the goldsmith. No great wh'lile af ter- this second great step ini his for tunes, Mr. Verdun, to whom lie was thus be~comie ag~enit, died while vet a young man, leaving a wife andf four' children -a son atnd thre-e dlaughiters. Th'lis son was younger thani his sister-, and as lie was thoughtless, generouts, and gay-hearted, and~ W~hiitmore avari eionts and exacting, they htad never as similated, even in the elder Mr. Ve hthm's lifetime, with anything like an anicablo spit-it. Just at the time young Ver'dun camne af age, he met, in a Leieswr t xir'- vil lage, a set of' strolling playet s; aind in a barni used for sijeh purposes, and inthe sharneter of one~ of Shanenneoa most beautifel female creations, he saw and loved the virtuous daughter of the poor manager of the strolling comp any; one whose be-tuty character and mind would have done honour to a inore enlightened audience. So in the great sylvan woods of Leicestershire, youth and hope made the love of weeks equal the love of years, and soon, before the altar of a village church near at hand, they be came and wife. The mother of the new-made husband was a proud, relent less woman, who, as soon as this mar raige was revealed to her, not simply denounced her son, but bound his sist ers by a vow, never by deed or word to hold communion with their brother. Fate seemed to aid this crimnal and cruel resolution, for, some few months after it was formed and sternly acted on, its object lost his life by a fall from his horse, and his young and broken hearted wife had Pgain to find refuge in her father's caravan; for the ijistant she made her claim, as the lawful wife of Mr. Verdun, Whitmore first displayed himself in his true character, and per emuotorily and satirically denied her right. The aged clergyman, who had offleinted at the marraige service was dead, the clerk denied having witnessed such a ceremony, the vestry of the church had been robbed, and no regis ter, or attestation of such marriage was to be found. With the view of appeal ing to the mercy of her huisband's sist.i ers, the young wife journeyed again in to Leicestershire. but scarcely had she reached the precinets of the old hall of the Verduns, then she was taken ill, and in the village poor-bouse, and with out other aid than tnat of two aged wo men, who resided there, became the i mother of a boy; but grief had so un feebled her, that she died that same night. Her friends were too poor to take or e ven aid the child; so his early years were passed under no better roof than one of straw, with no tenderer mother than the village beldaine -with no thrif ter nursing-c adle than the mud before the poor-house door---with no fairer landscapo than the lazy stagnant pool beside it. All who noticed or helped him were persecuted by the agent; and mlore s, when after Mrs. Verduri's death; lie became a sort of guardian to her daughters. The youngest of these married, when the child was about four yeors old; but she was soon left a wid ow, with anl oily' dauighter; and so re turming to her sisters with her child, she lived in a very retir-ed manner, leaving. as did the others, the entire control of the estate inl the haiads of Whitmore, who soon ruled it ini the ar hitrary spirit mllost congenial to himself. Thus, every tenant who fostered the Young hei. William Verdun, lie hated awl injured in every possible way lie could; but old Johi Glover was proof against. his hate, and regarded every fresh vexation (which caine by no m-ans at rare intivals) as he did the millhlhist upmo his rosy face. As soon ashe could, old John Glover took the boy home, and procured for hiM the best leaing his means would affoa d. U~ut ev-ery one who helped the boy, haowei-er humblyr or indirectly, was so iniinne-diately an obhject of persec-auin and suasj iin, as ho at length feari even speech'l with thec child. Yet, neverthe less, in old *Johni's peacefual home. and( in his own pate-rnal woods, thme bov paissedl many halhi pylays; anad here it was he first made acqnaintannce with4 his little cousin Liey. She, nlike her nans aind weak-minaded mi othecr, wtas1 houniid byr no0 vow of hate, and( hurain a childish dre-adl of Whuitmore. - and tried with thme mjonotoimy of liera drearyv home,' shte soon sharo-d with lier conin , in thle ob(1 greeni wIods, the secr-et book-, theI sinecret task; but at length even this was discovered , aind sternly forbidden, and, when founad useless, she was at once senat away to a distanit par-t of Fug-lanad. In onae of the old1 gables of thme manor house therec was an ancienmt libar, usu aly kept locked; so thmat after~ Lucy Fser'-s dep.artur e, nio thini g of1 life evr er was withina it, exce-pt the spiuder or< hnmzzing-fly. -Ilut with an old key which he fond in in the miller's ches-t, Wil llam Ver-dun, when lie was about twelve years old, go t access to this anicient t room, which had a door opencaing jnto0 the gardean, amnd there for thr-ee y-ears lie readi the old1 wor-eaCtein b ook s a iem lined the walls. Whuitmaor-e, who han spies in all dir-ectioni s, hard - at leng Lth f I even this; and~ one1 aight, to miak e surie of his pa-ey, lie crept theare with steal thy foot, and found the boy. With much shiow of saving him fr-onm severer punl-, islumnent, lie grappled with him andt thrust him for-th, though the woi-ds3 'vhich passed that night only made hisi imterested hate the gr-eater. But, thrust out from one moulering I place of learning, the boy soon fouind aanothaer; amnd thaut mas in the vestry< room of the church, from whence all I men said proof or his honest birthrigbt < had boon stolon. This vestr heldX t juaint old heap of books, left years be. ore by some liter ary vicar, and the Alerk, whose name was Bonham, relent ng, perhaps, in his cruel prejury igainst the orphan, tacitly encouraged ,he boy's love of learning, by leaving lways, through the long summer days, heo vestry windows ajar, as a secret means of ingress. Yet, in truth, as he grew older, it waS not so much to read >r learn that the young heir so often visited this ancient place as upon its >d worn altar-stones to prav for the mother he had -never known. The old niller, too, was his never-failing friend; te vowed by all the silver drops which )eaded on his old mill-wheel, that whilst i penny was left in his oaken chest or :anvnss hatg, no man should do injury to this rightful heir of the Verduns. But those who have an honest love of earning, have often added to it much iust and truthful pride; and the boy possessing this in no common measure, mnd learning, as he grew older, that Whitmore's exactions had largely di rninished the old miller's substance, he ecretly left him and the village, about i year before old John's visit to Lon Ion, and people said that lie had joined I company of strolling players. Whitmore. now a widower, had an nly son, for whoin he destined both the hand and and wealth of Lucy; for, through the means of having managed, now for so long a period. the entire bus iness of the estate, he had acquired that uncontrolled influence over these tiree recluse sisters as left little doubt afhiis fully accomplishinghis dream of worldly ambition. Good old John Glover and the gold 3mith found the apothecary to be a man well oble to see his own self-inter Lst. For now that Whitmore's gold flowed in f.ir less lavishly than former ly, lie had no objection to sell the se cret, as his visitors soon found, provided lie himself were safe. For some days, liowever, his cautiousness was strcnger than his cupidity; but when, to his con 3ternation, he learnt that the flagon yet kept its original shape, he found it would be far more politic, and more to his own self-interest, to reveal all lie knew. Secretly in the power of the law, though at liberty. ic at length produced te original leaf of the stolen parish register; for the leaf for which Whitmore hai 1-aid so dear a price, 1id which lie had committed to the Thines, was simply a copy of the origin Al, though s. ably executed uponi stain d parchineit by an accustomed hand, is to deceive even his shnrpsightedness. And thus the merry old goldsmith did nore than even what lie promised. It was a lovely July evening some nonths after this time, when, in a little iilage on the borders Nottinghiamshire, V small strolling company of players vere that night to astonish the rural >ublie with the replresentationi of King Richard the the Third. Their tempo ary stage was a barn abutting on a Treen lane, or rather bridle road, so ected for its convenience, for, under lie deep) hedge-rows, the two meagre torses, which dragged the company's maravan, found aimple and luxurious '44d.' The little theatre was lighted, boughi tuilight hadl not yet fully closed wround, and the play hiad conunenced. Sooni afte-r this there came along this ery laine a lamdy and gentleman on iorsebauck. T1he latter, as lie approach d the barn, slackened rein, inquired >f some of the by standers the cause of he lights which twinkled out so merrily m~d then ipelledl by what simply eimed cuiosityv, lhe dismJunited, and birowing his bridle over a gate-post, utered unmdei the roof, filled with the iVing' words4 of one imani's ind. lIe and entered but an instant; lbut once herein, lie lingered as if bound by a peCll, and soon his companflhioni joinied ima. Ini no great whiile, for- the play vas nmech abridged, the curtaini drew ip, anid'revealedt lie great hattle scene, he one where Rlichard flalls. As this ene progressed, amid the victor be omnes triumphaniit over the kinig, one tandinig at the rear of the piitiv'e tage crossed it, and regardless of the ime ail scene, whispered in the vic or's ear. Intuniediately he started anid ooked round; his dee p earnest gaze fail mag at onice up~oni a single spiectato:-, Viho , no othier t han Whli tmoore, immiedi tely' cal led to bi . coimplanio~n, and Iiuk in g out I u rsiued hi s way in unex lainied silence. Anad so on, till night hal fallen over rownI health and wood; rand till ini the id nan r houseii of' the Verduns the bree soli1 army Ssiters sat wondering vwhy me, who was for the~ first time com-. uig home in the care of the agenit, was o long delayed. By and by, however orses' hoofsu were heardi upon the old moat bridge, aiid Whuitmoro cuter ii with Liucy on his amrm. Y-t, svaree e hiad the weak though tender mother, ;ressed her child, when otbcrs croissedl ho bride anid mmuh nami:tne And.soon the wide door swunp back, and the miller, and the goldsmith, and Langley came in. The three solitary sisters shrunk away (for even now, perhaps, they recollected their cruel vow) but Lucy, with the noble spirit of her race, recognized her cousin and one dear. "How dare you! where is your right?" shouted Whitmore, paralyzed with fear. "As your gold has been lately short,' whispered Langley, as he crept -with the trail of a snake to the agent's side, 'there is the right of a Parish Register, of a Silver Flagon, and the law of the land. The agent turned upon all one bitter searching gaze, more deadly upon him whom he had so deeply wronged, then, starting past those who had come to detain him, he bounded through the open door. He was followed, -bup he had mounted his yet unsaddled horse, and fled in the darkness of the night to the woods. From this time, though active search was made, he was not heard of for many weeks, till a shep. herd found a man and horse which had perished in leaping the broad fissure of a dark ravine. The right of William Verdun was soon made clear, and the old register and tho silver flagon again rested in their wonted crypt. The old hall was soon after this new ly repaired and adorned, the solitary sisters weaned somewhat from their in cient oath of unchristian enmity, and not more than one April after, the lov. ing cousins made their marriage vows in the still country church. NATIONAL WIT. Eliza Cook's Journal gives certain characteristics and specimens of nation al wit and humor. The Irish are set down at the head of all nations on this score. Their wit is good natured,.gen ial, and as often hits themselves as oth ers. The Irishman makes fun of his own sufferings. Once when the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland was riding in the Phoenix Park with Sir Hercules Langrishe, he com plained of his predecessors for leaving it so wet and swampy. Langrishe re plied, 'they were too much occupied in draining the rest of the kingdom.' Pat on one occasion was being sentenc ed to transportation, and remarked to a bystander, 'My lord is giving an eli yent lecture on botany.' When the sentence turned out to be for fourteen years, Pat who was already an aged veteran said, 'I'm delighted to hear it, my lord, for by me soul I didn't think I had half that long to live.' Three Ilibernians were travelling together on foot at night; tired and hungry they asked the distance to their point of des tination. Three miles. was the reply, 'Good 'uck to you,' returned the spok-es man, 'that is only a mile apiece for us.' An Irish car driver was presented with a shilling at hisjourney 's end, and grumbled loudly at the smallness of the fare. 'Faith,' said he, 'it's not putting me off with this ye'dl be, if ye knewv but all.' The traveller's curiosity was exci ted. 'What do you mean?' 'Faith, that 'ud be telling. Another shilling was tendered. 'And now,' asked the gen tlemian, 'what do you mean by saying i f you k new but all?' That Idr-uv yer honcr the last three milee without a lynchpin!' A begger woman in the country fol lowed a gentleman to his great annoy anic, for about a mile, and on bidding haim good bye, had the modesty to ask him for 'a little sixpence.' 'For what,' asked the gentleman, 'what have you (done for me'f' 'Ah then sure, havn't I been keeping yer honor in discoorsa?' 'The national wit of the Scotch is altogether different from that of the Irish. Indeed, the Scotchiman is not witty, so much as satirical. If lie per. petrates a pun or a joke, it often carri es a sting in it. ie may raise the laugh, but see ifit is not at somebody's cost. The followving is a good illustra tion:-A meetinig of the elders of a certain kirk had assembled for the pur pose of determining about the position of a stove, which was to be erected for the purpI~ose of waring the building on Sundays. A fter considerable discus sion, an old man, who bad hitherto said but little, was asked for his opinion. nmy hmnbhle opinion,' he Raid, 'the stove should be placed in the poopit, for it is by far the couldest place in a' the Kirk!' Thel English are not famous for their wit. 'The national stoek consists rath er of a sot of conventional sayings, which men agree to laugh at, than to those natural coruscations of wit which distinguish the Iristi character. .Dig gory, in She toopa to Conguer, when his master ebarges himi not to langh with the guests wvhile he is telling 'his stories, protests that li be ad So. frairi- his mastdr iustinot tell thistor of 'the use in th gun room. The bones0 D ories are, we beleive, a large ms oayin nglishi society' WOMAN.-Woman is like the rose which buds and blooms on the parterre of life. In the cradlW, when a sweet bud, the fragrance of affection fills the atmos phere around and about her. When the prattle of infanoyJi heald from her lips, and her smiles irradiate thqeyes of paterual affectio4 the fra grance increases. As the bud devel opes its beauties to the eye, and the knit limbs allow her to fly about the do mestic circle, the joy of her parents is ecstatic. There follows the ' develop. ment of heart linking the -bud to the bosom whence dwell maternal affection. Mind quickly developes. its native energies and the heavenly spark which animates the mortal frame now adds new charms to the cherished object of affection. The tide of life flows on, and in its spring, new beauties cluster around the loved one, and in a few summers more she is seen at the altar, pledging her affection to one whose manly worth has won her pure and guileless heart. The early hearth is left, but not for saken, for maternal love has matured her affection, not simply for the poor re turns which an earthly bower yield for anxious care. Her heart is imbued wiith nature, which refuses to live without that pure atmosphere which to far has warmed her being, and caused her latent beau ties to expand and attract the admira tion of the manly youth, who claims her for his bride. Her calth is a guileless and confi ding heart, and the gentle current, along whose unruffled banks she has hitherto culled the sweetest flowers, glides still by her feet without a mur mur. Her happiness is complete, for relig ious faith illumes the present and gilds the future, while memory revirsf the past without a pang from duties neglec ted or affections not acknowledged,' Youth and beauty attend her steps4 all her days are pleasant, while peace ful contentment makes her heart ATiiU as Hope in the vista beckonj her on to joys in qcCues yot to be realised But such happiness, like, all things which partake of death, is subjeet to the stroke of death. The destroyer of man's happiness re spects not the young, the beautiful, or the gifted. Too often in this world they seem, like the flowers of Nature, which de lights the eye, to be more subject to the scythe of the Destroyer. If the admiring eyes of Nature's sweetest flower could shield from harm the full-blown rose, its leaves would nev er wither, its fragrance never die. If friends could detain the blooming matron in a sphere where her virtues bloom but to perish, many would live to have t.heir old age irradiated by the lus tre of well-spout years. But death must come. Beauty, it is true, belongs to youth, but not to youth alone. 'The matron who is the cynosure of the happy circle, the charm which lures to domestic happiness the husband and the father. has beauty too. I1er heart is the centre of huinan affection--her smile the reward of hu man hopes. Tu11 NE~CEss1TY OF EnucAiito.-It is to education we must turn our atten tion, as the great corrective of our pre sent evils. By education is meant the training of the physical, moral, and in-. tellectual powers. This alone ein make a peop~le industrious, prosperous, and intelligent. It has been said, with much of force and truth, that man is the creature of circumstances. It then the circumstances in which we are placed form character, and determine our lot in life, howv respnnsible is the situation of parents, and with what af reetion and care should they regard their chlildrcn--for the child grows into the youth, the youth into the man, and Qrn the discipline of one stage depend. the aharactor of the next: circumstances make particular vices and virtues char acteristic of different classes. If we take an example from the middle class, thrift and prudence may be instanced. A young man feels he would lose his self respect not to occupy the station in which he has beoen brought up; and this reeling early impresses on his mitid the necessity of industry, economy, and prudence, and prevents him entrg hastily .on that muost i n9 lifo'marrige. Zde ~le ~~ bfore'tb he i fen 8i 6i tihe't'aidebb~ own exer q win* alivingta d difficult. ad -,e!miet circuts'tances rende* who see Wu*y the *x perBOdS UDCharitb here,when, if the ituation, dgent. vicinity, andto the a ride In the ear ove and:KonnebeckAI rhere they had adff elegant style by mine:1hbot, liarus House; It P were by nomneini rangements made roads, whentinly Oil were allowed seats,' showing their proper PeA this party, in which theyr*o exclusive, on theirwr Some of the te Ville, on hand to-hiin"or a' in attendance d't She with coaches x tel o their lady visitreis, ir. bi"a-, them down at the botgI, through some of the pri pcpl show up the town & At dinner theLadies had the entirely to themselves, wero;a ei uponiby ice. youngter "feast of reason au4 fiw' in a lady like way Oa theireturr# were again polio 0_ hieles of-conveniepee d the depot wore foloitVed.by hf cheers by the multitude ; h The Lady who ceremonies requested the e fa make that whistle screth capacity, ana 9 leh l pull to, 14 err return--an inlu~oif ~'I Bodge, alwwys edJ # y ble to the lade~s -A WSTU-YA1, awful ugly maian'.ivhtt1g. Ii Missouri, said that hearrivedjn enville in the afterndb? "anad days atore, (Kalia1ad e 'i busted, and a hegp of' and killed one or. So at last grocery, a equad o in, one, 'lowed. ses hoi 'iteO * unfortunate sufferers by thb'eiU the Franklin,'- and uonthatA me to drink withblmi alddW tnmbler half way tM nIdd ped me of a sudde "]But-whit?" s ses he. Idone it, 'Or ik e drink, and", 1bo.hanged think the whole on Jetri outd! g' tits!--hey yelled and whoo& l gan of wolves. -inally one f et says, don't make flii' th~t nate; he's hardigt e>f ~~~ up yet. Leae makii i. him. Then the(ft~~io i mado up ftvdolia tfe&4jK handed mue the charig, wax& 'whar did ,ypu find yons~t~t "In a flat-boat,tab~s Ic "How farfrom 'the Frnk~ but as nigh' as tcani gis1 have beeki, fromn whatteti nighoni to tihee 4uiak4 fre mnilee!' You rougt 4 gang sCattef. - Y Carnrcs OF THE Pit -Tefl*wi is said to have oe6nifed in th ,r theatre in Boston difring$&,f ance of Mabth ~ u one to the other, "tot's go, don't comedin iinf' "yo ko~ TAxrreG AWA tr son who Quin bad b t 'Mr. Quint'said h, 44 derstand jyou hoeb my name.' - 'What haveta4 h!thetR*t y ped 491$an 2 ElmoMMI '