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oaoaou iovutas ii riiiuun wiiui at • STKUOON TUWIATTi r “ r.Dtrok ado momutoi, D IM.Alifl PER ANNUM, IN ADVANGKi JJ,yl|S* BDULAM AT TUN END UP THU YEAR. i„,i oa irillht r#c*lT*ilfor leatlhaa * vur.ior will •■? | ..•» * , ■«, !»• •••»«««»«oy |>«raou mi( of (lit Ute, until tbe f fW ia iwidiu 4*1 »•««• »»r aeliafaclory rr fere ace f iv«a. jgtlKS VS 4r«i»»*eri«il Ht 7."» otuu per Mina re for (he AOV***' ia43»»ce..t*. peraqearefar eeeh laaeriioutliereafter. A Irllii^^joiiraal I* tb« apaceef(ou liaeala amalUype.euuulntiii * ^l'aa ofbAPIOibjr Administrators, Ex Acinor*, or Gaar- tr*-by law, (O be held on (Ue Aral Tueaday ia (he 4*** k^Mea (he hears often In (he forenoon and (hree lu (he al- •Mil 1 TtThe Court Home, in ihfti ouniv m which (ho property ia ora**** i rtlcof (iieae ealeeinaatl»eflvei«;-* apnblicgnaeUe IX* ..ravuiua to (ha day of tale. ff ***1?rifflfinKd lueat baa( n public auction,on the flrctTura iala*®^ ^td between the uaualnoura of s*l*,ut tho piece of pub d*f** '•e(hec«»o | dy where (lie letters testamentary, of Adminlatra- |»#a*A** l**.jiRiublp, may have been grunted, lir«t giving SIXTY „>• “ r J ,| C „ thereof,in ononftlin publicgaaetteaof tliia State,and at 9*** ef ihaCoert»hoaae,whereauch aaleaareto be held. •be d®* r # . the «ele ofFeraonnl Property, mutt begiveu in like man Java previous to the day of sale. *g*!teel° |he i >< * btora * u< * Credttoreof " u liatatemnatbepuhliahed fK ^^Tw-iR^o'icalion will be made to the Court of Ordinery foi **-11 LAW. must he pul.tn.hed for FOUli MONTHS. I ,,,il0 for leave to soil NKliilOKS, imi-t be published for FOUR tVfHd,h' ,l ‘ ,re *“y ort * ir tbaolute shall be made thorenn by the Cdirt '-a«»fnv l * 0,t, ’ r * 0 ^ Administration, must ho published thirty CtW” jiunMsioofro.n admlatetratlon, monthly six months—for dis* ^ .Soia (luardteiishlp,forty dtps, iro ^ lf8C | tf4nri , „f t( 0l ijj .go must be published f ,,r e^t’ihlia'ting lost papers, fur the full sauce of three c.iup-dling titles from Executors or AuiuiiiiMriitors, *“ given by the decoasod, the full spnet of (Arts these, thelegnl it limes t or ecci ve prompt attention atthe I INDISTINCT PRINT .crttrml m»%tks . pgUietti*" 1 | U irpin>’id*. — r.h.deOliHIA lOHRNAti »*?J vtNCKS MV MAIL-**A ' the publisher of a newsi i 1 *! »«ia s»d frank the letter, ir A postmaster mny enclose money ? taper, to pay the subscription of a writtonby hiniaolf.”— Amos Ken- « p.« 0 POETICAL. SPIRIT VOICES, nr Ml!** M \RY O t ROVER. A voice of plnintive music fell Upon n s ii minor air. Paint ns the broken murmur Of n spirit’ll dying prayer; It was the music of n lienrt l)Vr which tho etorin hud nnesed, Ami left but one imperfect chord To answer to the blast. ‘A soulless harp, n faded flower, A shadow on Life’s stream ; A clouded day, a starless sky, A night without a dream ! Oh ! why beneath a flowing wave Dust thou nut aink, my soul ? W'liat bears thee up when rnyleaa clouds And billow’s o’er thee roll V •Mv strength is immortality !’ 'i’ne Moul’sclear video replied ; ’ I'wus like uu ungel’s when it kneels A tempt* d one beside ; •I watch the surges ns they break, Tlio tempest raging high, As bo no brave maiiner whoso homo (ilenniB bright before his eve. • ‘The warrior seeks the bntfle*|>lnin To conquer or to die; A dauntless Faith must tread the field Between llie earth and skv ; Ami we must mount to meet the goal, Fling hack the weight of life. To win the cown, must hide tho storm, The conflict und the strife.’ bit a bitter thing for thee, Worn heart! to tear away The idols thou hast cherished here, The sun beam* of the day ? Or agony to hear the knell Of all thy bright hopes toll? List to the better voice within, The leaching ol (he soul! Shelter Island. fc^r* VOL. XXXV1- touclilng narrative of the old martyrs, or some aim- “ ' lu ' beautiful story, like that of tin, ••Shepherd ol Sal.,bury Plain.’’ There were file, also of the ri igious newspaper, which every week was issued Ironi the metropolis; bui these were filled only with ro igiou* matters, and served locnll nitention more closely to the liuainess and practical avoca tions ol life, or Die wonder, oftlie world. The world is wiser now. hut how Utile better ! 1 hough u 11 the village regurded Lucy with ad. miration and affection, there was one who watch ed lor her appearance on tho Suhbalh more c oRuly than llio real, and listened with more emotion lo the soft music of her voice ; and when ho met her in hi* walks, or waited upon her home from some evening meeting, his mantling check and half-stammering voice would have told tt less simple henrt than his that he loved her. This ww* William Herford ; the son of the unassuming yet wealthy village lawyer; who took more pleasure in adjusting the few disputes that arose in the quiet neighborhood than many now can imagine. Squire llerford, ns he was termed, had studied ruther to have a profession than to gain a livelihood by it; and being left with u small fortune, which by care anil management increased steadily every year, had married and settled down in unambitious qui«*t in this retired village. He had two children, William und a lovely daughter, younger by two or three years; and on these he bestowed all his leisure mo. mentH. William was intended for the law ; und although Squire flerford's means were such as to have warranted n more expensive course, he, preferred to give William the advantages of home while preparing (or college. Accordingly, after attending the village school until he was fourteen, William was placed under the care of the minister, to whom ho recited his preparatory exercises in the languages, while his father undertook his mathe matical instruction. William was a nohle>hearted hoy ; full of hope; and the minister snw with de light, that he possessed both talent and application in no common degree. His father, ulthough not ambitious himself, was pleased with the promise which William gave of becoming distinguished, and spared no pains in udvice and encouragement to render him not only a good scholar, but well in formed in history ; and sought to improve the taste which he u I ready showed for generul literature. In his father’s well stored library, William found an almost exhattsiless fund of profit and pleasure ; und many a day in tho summer he would take a volume of some pool und stroll among the hills, to rend ai d compare the beautiful descriptions of na ture with tho more lovely interesting reality. The song of the birds and the bubbling of the brooks, as they stole out from their shaded sources and ran MILL EDGE VILLE, TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1K44. NO 6 those or William; but she was loo young to be •courted’ by the young farmers ; and again too, William was ‘eu thick with her,’ as they remarked among themselves,'tltul others must slund aside.’ There was nut much heart-burning, however, for ‘Bill Horforr',’ as ho was fnmiliurly termed, was liked by oil for his open demeanor, which was fur above his years, and won good will among all tlte young folks i>f tho town. Delightful June bad come, with its roses and bal my south winds : a deeper green upon the trees of tlio upland Imd succeeded the tinge of springtide, and Ihu blue haze rested all day long upon tho hills in the horizon, The swallow passed and repnssed over the daisied meadows, or lightly dipped its wing in the ripples of the stream ns it rsuglit up the insects hovering over tho surface. Deep in tilt! leafy anlineli s the ring dove cneed nml the wit,ill-r>,l>i<i warbled iis low, sweet flute. Tim wi d briar by tile foot-path was again in bloom, and every tiling was Ii iuuning " itli delight le tlm ear mill eye. A I was joy fulness ; but Mine was more joyful than Lucy lliil, as with William’!, assistance she gathered flowers for tlio old vase. This w as her seventeenth summer, ami William had also reached tlio same age ; hot his heart was not so liglo us hers, lor he had nearly comnletfii his preparatory s'udies. and the nest August was to enter college ; and he dreaded the approach of the time when lie iiinsl leave Lucy and selllo among bis books ; nwuy from Iter blue eyes and confiding smile. They were silting one afternoon oil a mossy bank, where u spring swelled op from the silvery w hite sand below it. He Imd been reading tier a beautiful passage in •Tlnnripsoii’s Slimmer,’ and his arm just touched her waist, w hile site leaned upon the alder-bosh which bent over them. Grad ually he began to talk of his approaching absence; and as lie spoke a tear, like a drop of due resting in the hare-hell glistened in Lucy’s eye. "But. Brother W illinni are you going really so soon?’ she said. That moment site was folded in bis em brace ; uad they wept there together, with mutual affection, anil promises of troth anil constancy ; Ins arm clasping her waist, and her soft warm cheek laid closely In his, and her sunny curls mingled with bis ditik hair. The stiu was tinging the wes. tern clouds with purple and gold, ere tout guileless pair left the messy bunk, and departed homeward down the shaded dull. Beautiful dreams played in their sleep that night ; und although Lucy did not tell her parents how happy situ was in the love olTliut noble boy, she did not deem the concealment wrong. The weeks (lew by apace,and u little while before it was time lor William to go lie told bis fa ther of Ins love. Squire Herford was too wise to instil false pride MISCELLANEOUS. iFIIOM TIIKKKIV YORK KSICKSRROCKKK ] ll’CY HILL-A LOVE STORY. mnS THE TWINKLE PAPERS I EDITED DY HASS VON SPIEOKL. The beauty and gentleness of Lue.y Hill had made her the idol of ull who knew her, both young and aid; and many a poor widow, as she lay down at night, prayed the Giver of all Good lobless her. Lucy was the daughter of ti farmer who lived near one of those lovely vil'nges which lie scattered among the valleys of New England, She had never been beyond the boundaries of Iter native ton a, and bad never received an education beyond what the village school ulforded ; hut like a wild roe', had badJed and bloomed there, in the quietness and retirement of her humble home, with scarce a thought save those of joy. To say Inst sue was lovely was not enough ; sho was em inently bcautful; and many an eye w hs directed to thu gallery, ns every Sunday she quietly look Imr vat ia the choir of the village church, mid awaited he giving oat of tile opening hymn. Her voice was sweet and full, and mingled like nil ungel's with tin! melody which went in praise to the Author ill blessings, llereyewa llie reduction of the von ue is nml purity of the summer heavens, and the tinge nf the early morning rested on her cheek. Allhu.igli sue must have known that she was beau til’ul. by the smiles which lit up the faces of all she ake to, siie did not show it bv single appenrnnee id' vanity ; sli • plated tier shilling unborn Iniir in •iaiple I'anls upon her forehead; und if her tre.-scs ll'wed over her shoulders in luxuriant curls, it was only that her straw hut might sit mure closely upuu Iter lie id, ami shade more fully her sweet fuco. irly in tuo morning, while yet the dew glistened U|io.i thu grass, nud the birds sang their matin song to the gnideu sun, you might have hourd the hum "I Iter spinning wheel. And the snow of winter lav U|mii the lulls, and brooks ru.i murmuring he- "calli liie transparent ice, the sound of tu t loom wus uccmnpuiiicd bv some sweet simple song, long talure the day, us she sat and plied the shuttle by tile light of the ennd e of her own dipping. She wnsaii oniy child, and her father und mother re garded her with pardonable pride. The butter and the cheese which were used at their plain board »oro made Ijv her; and if at night when farmer Hill came back, wearied from his toils among the lields, uad sat down to supper at the clean pine ta ble. which needed no cloth to louder it neater, the htcad was waiter than usual, or the Iadiati-cakus lighter and sweeter, they were so because Lucy aad made them. The products of her loom and wheel hud clothed the iitllo family in the winter; ‘"ida little outlay at the village store supplied those "rttcles which summer made necessary for their Industry uad ilin fresh air had given I.ncy strong lieulth ; und if sdio was bountiful while engaged in the labors of lovo during tho day at """'t.nr twining the hill-flowers among the tresses ul her hair, in the afternoon shade of tho beeches elms on the gentle slope of the hill beyond the noak, which li m ed through the orchard behind the ii'iuae. sho was doubly so w hen asleep ut night in ber liit| e chamber. Often would her father and "Hither, before they retired lo test, softly steal in •"d kim her ivltitu forehead, nnd draw the entm- jtrpano more closely over Iter lilly bosom, which "cave I gently in her calm slumber. It is not alone "acanvass ur In the pages of poetry that wo meet wiili creations of beauty; for there nro, infrequent- J to he sure, real forms of fomule loveliness, which the an of the poet or puinler cannot excel. Lucy •"I was one of them, Grncelul, and not ton tall, I Ml farmer's daughter, far from the world of ole- g # "co and fa-hlon, had grown up almost to woman- "‘"d.niid no skill in costume or attitude could have II ded one grace which she hud iiol. As yet, Lucy had not thought of love, oilier than 'e liuly nfTection which bound her with silken bond* "her beloved parents. In tho midst of her pleas- Msks, she Imd riot oven thought of that farther, •'ghtcr vet not more blissful emotion ; and if in •vaeia lit-ryoung heart fashioned to itself some ini- "d'er than her parents, it wns so v gue and indis- hictihni it did not Uaey her wuking llmughl“. Light- ceding, as it is termed, wns then neither eo com- j""n aur so cheap us si present ; and Imd not found * *")' A' A' 0 littlo library which adorned the top " >" aid fashioned dusk in the front room of Lu J * dwelling, A well worn edition of lame old j-'uinineimiry ,,n the Bible, and the sacrod volume “ I only «-,. re there, with the exception of some sparkling through the green meadows, filled him with indescribable jnv. The Hawk sailing up in i into the mind of his son ; and although lie was n t the clear sky, nr gracefully perched upon the top of j exactly pleased with the idea of William's making some lull und distant tree, seemed nil emblem of I such promises so young, nnd to nn^ whose educa- untiiimineled fieedom, and be lunged for the sume 1 tioii wus so limited, lie made no objection to it, for power to track the pathless air und lake in at a glance, bill, nnd quiet valley, and waving meadow. It wus in one ol tlp-se walks tlmt ho oncounter- hc loved his boy, nnd did not wish lo damp his nr. dor. Farmer Mill and his wife were pleased when ed Lucy Hill, who had wandored farther than unit- I Lucy told them nl last of William’s love, and hi al in search of wild flowers lodeckthc old china vaso on the mantel pieco of tho front room at home. Her straw bonnet had fallen back, and dangled over her shoulders, ns if in play with her long tress, es ; and her loose sleeve showed her fair round arm as she reached up and plucked the scented fl livers from a wild-briar. Sho did not see him until lie was close beside her, and a turn in the foot path had concealed her from him. She started us he bade her good afternoon, and in liuste a slender branch of the bush got entangled with her sle-ve. 'i it rowing down his book, VViiliarn disengaged it; und she blushed while ho gave her the bunch of flowers which she had dropped ; nnd blushed still more, be cause he did, while betook hold of her soft wrist and phicko , out a thorn which had pierced the deli, cate skin and reddened il with a drop or two of blood. William never thought ol loving her be fore, although frotii a child he had been at the sun,n school, and had picked wild berries with her and his sister a thousand times. But as he sat there with tlmt beautiful girJ, arranging Iter flowers, and looking into her rosy lace anu soft blue eyes, he all at once loved Iter tenderly, and fell the new dilution coine like a dream of fairy-hind into his heart. As lie walked homeward by her side, nnd placed a ivreutli of leaves upon her still uncover ed head, nnd listened to her merry laugh at his bashful awkwardness, he was in u new world, ami all llm descriptions of maiden loveliness that lie ha father’s cotl8e't ; and the reflection of a rich mar- onling. Not so with Lucy ; for alien he return ed she welcomed him ns cngerly, and returned his kiss ns warmly us before, und only fell unhappy that tho six weeks could nut lust forever. How like u fawn she tripped at his side oil the hills, ami how merrily her glad lunghter echoed among the trees, her bright hair flouted in careless tresses, nnd the rich blood mantled in her etieek ! Wil liam’s love grew warm ngain as lie looked on her. and lie furgut that ho Imd felt Horry to leave Laura Gay, It is true Lucy cuuld not convurse us Lauru did, and framed no delicate compliments lo reach Itis vanity ; hut in the pure love of that artless but beautiful girl lie forgot Laura,und thought that lie could never grow cold again. Lucy was now nineteen, and her full though slender form w is round nnd graceful. A woman mm she hub nil n woman’s tenderness ; and ns her blue eyes henmed into Willium's fuce, lie thought that she never had nppeured so lovely. Confiding in him, she looked forward to the lime when she should be bis wife and bear his name. But oh, how surely was nun poor girl lo be disappointed! A low weeks at college, and with Laura Gay, mid lie forgel Lucy I till, and while she grew sad that he did not wine to her, nnd felt an indefinite ulurm Tor something, she knew not ulmt, he was all lillr iind nnim cion ; and though he still applied himself In his book-, mi l loved them, he loved more the light of Laura’s brilliant eyes and tho soft smile which ala ays welcomed him to her presence. She was indeed a noble girl; tall, with flashing dark eye umi raven hair, and soft, warm, delieute hands, that did not refuse the ardent pres sure which the young student gave it whenever they mot. True, some whispered lit ut she was a co- quelle, and only displayed her beauty nud charms of cm.venation lo triumph over the unwary; in deed they named those whom she trifled with ; but what eared young Herford for that, so long as she was in him m warm and confiding ? She even spoke to him ol wh.il people said of her, and seemed grateful that lie alone among so many knew her re al ciii'iaciuri and valued her ns she wished to bo valued. Tlmt term glided away like 11 leaf upon the niiiiihig water, and William’s heart smote him us the vacation found him again ut home, for lie no longer loved Lucv Hill! Ho was too generous at first to show it to her, hut when he reflected that site must some lime or other know that his feelings were changed, he determined ill once to tell her all. Ii was mil without trembling hand that he drew tiiti Inch of the gate, and walked up the path way lo Lucy’s door; he even wavered whether he sltouid lull her or not; ami all his resolutions melt ed away, ns she met him with tears nnd kisses, nod told him now she had wept many a lonely night, and in the morning loo, because no letter hud ar rived from him. It wus a glorious October day, and as they pass ed through tlte orchard mi their way to the hill, the apples hung red upon the rustling houghs, and the woodpecker flow from tree to tree before them, ut- i tcring his short, shrill cry ; uad the yellow-hsin- jiner dodged round the stakes of the rail fence, and j seemed lo nod them recognition. The flow ers and [ the leaves were gone from the wild-briar; and the The Lady that was I oo Kushloaable. Why should we speak of the fashion, in n city where it is so inconstant. Yesterday’s fashion is gone to day, and that ol lo.d-iy will be gone to. ma row. lu Paris, those who dress according to tho fash ion ura ulivnys busy, they must not lose a moment in the day , there is the morning dress ; day dross, evening dress, and concert or bull dress ; and this is not all ; one must have fashionable rooms, fashionable furniture, ftishiolialile carriage nn-l horses, fashionable liveries, und lasliioit is always fl-etiog. Those people to whom fashion is everything are extreme'y unhappy when they are found wanting in the smallest particular. This way of tying the cruvat is no longer in fashion ; coats are not hot toned up so high as this now ; this hut is not of tlm new sltupe ; this color is in a bad tnslo ; and this cane Is completely gone by. If yon have been so unfortunate ns to go out without knowledge of nil this, you are lost. Run, hide yourself quick, before any one sees vou.oryour reputation is gone. Fortunately for tho Parisians, they nro not all slaves to fashion. Men of talent think very little of it; they have other things to think about’. Some austere philosophers mid cynics affect to despise it; they sometimes carry this loo far. Est modus in rebus. The following circumstances liefel n lady in Pa. ris, to whom fashion is everihing. This Indy wns forty years old—she was not handsome—but she often wore things that made her less so. ‘•It is the fashion,” was her favorite saying. "One cannot go wrong when one is in the fusil, ion.” “But if tho fusliiim is a ridiculous one?” said tho friends. ‘ Fashion can never he ridiculous.” ••Ifit is unbecoming?” “It is no consequence.” "If fashion directed you to expose your lltroul ?" j i- l would show it.” "To wear your dresses to your knee?" :ar them so. I would ulwai be ringe for their daughter did not once enter their J arch look which Lucy guve Herford ns they pnss- minds. Long wns the rumble of the lovers on the day before William left; and tho moon was high be. foro he kissed Lucy at the gate, and bade her good bye fur three long months. The next morning, ns the singe passed by, and William ivuved Ills hand in farewell, Lucy return ed it from the window, and when the rattling of tlio wheels had died uway in the distance, she went into her chamber and wept; nor fur the whole day did she regain her usual lightness of spirits. But the next morning, after drenms of love, she arose ns joyful as ever, and went about her pleasant labor with new cheerfulness. She trusted,in William so fully that not one single thought of fuur for the endurance of his attachment to her onco crossed her mind. He hnd promised lo write to her ns soon as lie had fairly settled in cull ge life; and she awaited the reception of her first love-letter with a little fluttering impudence, lo he sure, yet with joyful anticipation. Ah, how pure wus the love of that young girl • nnd with how many rain bow hues did it spun her soul! Happy in the af- fectii ii of her parents, and blest in the love of Wil. Hum, the winged hours flew by unheeded. A fort night passed away, and one morning us Farmer lliil returned from the villugo, he brought the ex pected letter, und Lucy hid it in In*r throbbing bo som, and went into lior little chamber ulonu to rend -r read, seemed realized tu him. Heretofore he ! it. Her tears f- I, fust ; fur it was written »itli lead only admitted inanimate or insensate Nature ; j glowing warmth, mill slut felt ns it she was talking but now those pussuges descrip'ivo ol female ueuu- 1 with her absent lover. The labors ol tlio house- ty, and the witchery of its charms, flashed in- hold were despatched that duy long before the usu. to Ids memory, and lie wondered how they could I al time : and in the warm air of tae August alter- before have passed unnoticed. Songs ivliieli he | noon, sho went upon thu shady hill lo read it over hud heard his sister and mother slug, which never ; again, there on the mossy Imuk, by thn bubbling -sussed meaning lo his ear or pleased him, i s- j spring. Many a heart looked oil her with love as ad it, filled him wi^ji keen grief, and his lip quivered | and his eye iiw moist, as they sat down together j on the muss by the spring, where two years before I they confessed their mutual affection. He snw j that site perceived it. and taking her hand in his, lie I then told her all. Oil, how the heart of tlmt love ly gill sank within her, as she heard what ho told her! He fell her hand treinb'e nnd grow cold as ice, und saw her brow and cheek grow pule, but die did not weep. "God knows, William.” said she, ns she turned lier blue eyes lo his, “ how well [ have loved you these two years ! I love you stili; for you have a noble heart, und I know that you do not willingly inflict this cruel wound. Do not pity me—do not weep,” fur tho tears came in spile of himself. 1 can hear it to make you hap. py. Will you nut love me as a sister, and be •‘brother Will !’■ He did not answer, but folded her to bis heart in one last embrace of overwhelm, mg emotion, and though she wns still pale, she •strove lo look cheerful us they returned to the house. Tlmt evening they told her parents; and hough her father’s brow lowered ut first, and her mother looked sorrowfully upon the pale luce of I her bi'n itifel daughter, yet William's open hearted ' frankness atoned fur it all. The large Bible ! taken dewn from the uld desk, and ulter a chapter | hud been rend, they all knelt down together, and j the voice of farmer Hill went up in prayer fur the • well being of William Herford, and his own sweet | daughter; and when William hade them good night. ! Lucy kissed him, hut without tears, though her bo ; sum swelled llius to purl with him. They met uf- iterwards while the vacation lasted, and allliougl Lucy would steal out alone lo weep by the naked pus; I briar and thu spring, tney never went there togeth pi fur the melody which was linked with them. ■ the next Sunday tlmt beautiful girl, mudo still more jer. Only to Ellen d d William confido the occur seemed new, uud expressive, tliougu faintly, of the bcnuiilul by her happiness, took her place in the | fences of that duy ; for he feared tlmt his father very emotions tlmt now filled him. By the time i choir, und poured forth the melody of her heart in j would blame him, though he felt himself that he they reached her lather’s gate, he had grown so - the songs of praise, it 1 " ' 11 1 ' 1,1 " 1 " timid that he hardly hid her good evening ; nod that I devotion that she sang tl brave, frolicltsotne boy was changed into a baslilul ' her whole heart went up in grntitudo to the all lover ! That night ho lay awake thinking of thu j gracious Father of Mercies. The words of the afternoon's vision of beauty ; and the sweet im gray Haired minister, us he discoursed to his flock uge of Lucy Hill wns present in his sleep. 11" r j as n friend and I'uHier, seemed more deeply impre with a more heartlult J imd acted honorably William returned to colie olds ol thu hymn, uud I nod In E-Ion. Lucy found a warm-hearted syinpa | lliizlng friend. As their engagement was not | known in tho village, so Lucy’s pride was not hurt j by ill-natured renmiks, when in the course of the ' next two years William did not return home, ex A Ghost Stobv.—* lew days sioeo oar door- keeper (a new servant) complained that he not only ' could not sleep, but that M never elept since his arrival more than • few mioutesat • time, and tlmt be never could sleep consistently with bis duty un less tlio 'el'reei should be destroyed. He added, tiiat he came up every night into the upper gallery leuding to oor sleeping rooms, and there he found the figure I have mentioned, walking round an I round the gallery ; and concluded with an anxious request that my brother would consent to his firin.' atthe phuutom, Buying, that devils have alwavu been destroyed by trie discharge of fire-arms.- — My brother consented to the proposal, provided the servant used neither bell nor aniall-sliot.— Two days and nights passed, and we found on the third, day tlmt the doorkeeper was waiting to as- eertuin whothor the spectre were a saint or a devil, and hnd, therefore, resolved lo question him oil tlm ensuing night before he fired. The night came, and it was one of unusual darkness. We had real, ly forgotten our man’s intention, allhough we wrro talking over the subject of the disturbances until nearly midnight, uud speculating upon the cause, hi tlio ruom where my children were happily sleep ing, when we were startled by a tremendous dis- charge which was succeeded by the deep coarse vnico of the doorkeeper, exclaiming,“There li lies, the necursed !” and a sound as of a creature struggling und gasping for breath. In tlte next moment, the man loudly called his fellow.servant, crying, ‘ Come up, the uccursed is struck down be fore me!” nnd this wns followed by such mysteri ous sounds illative believed either a man bud been shot and was in his last agonies, or that our man and accidentally shot himself. My brother went rnundthe gallery, wh le 1 and my sister-in-law stood, like children, trembling, hand in hand,and my bnv- mercil'uliy s ept, (ns young onos do sleep) sweetly und soundly, through all the confusion nnd distress. It appeared that llm man used, not only ball.car tridge, Imt put two charges of powder, with two halls, into the pistol. I will describe the evert, however, in his own words, “ The ’effect passed me, in thu gallery, and repassed me, when I thus addivssi-d ii : ‘.Shall wo quit this bouse, or will jv slo so ?’—You shall quit it,’ he answered, u.i- passing me again, lie threw dust into my right oye. rills proved ho was a devil,” continued tlm man, "and 1 wrapped my cloak around me, null watched the spectre as it receded. It stopped in tlmt corner and 1 observed attentively its appearance. It was mil and perfectly white. I stopped, and, before it moved again, discharged my pistol, which I had tiofuru concealed, nnd the accursed was struck down In-fore me, ami here nro tho remains.” So saying, lie picked up a small burnt mass, which my | brother showed us ullerwards, resembling mere the | sole of a shoe limn anything else, but perforated by lire in several places, and literuily burnt ton j cinder. This, the man asserted (agreeably lo a popular opinion) tvnsalwuys tlm relic when a devil i was destroyed, and it lay on the ground under a i pari of tlm wall where the bullets had entered - - | The noise which succeeded the report, and which filled me with horror, is, nnd must ever remain a ! mystery. On the following morning we closely l i-x .mined the spot, nnd found nothing that could I throw light on llm subject. Tlte burnt remains do ' not help us lo a conclusion.—One tiling, however, ‘ i would iv the fashion.” I he husband of this Indv. who was by no means of her way of thinking, look il into his head one day to comimso a little piece, and put it in tlm Journal des Modes, with a picture, representing a Indy whose h ;;r wns dressed .villi a carrot. Under neath was written— "New style of dressing Imir, drawn back a In Chmois; natural carrot.” The lady examined it long and seriously. “Oh* what a singular head-dress ! — how new ; . , , , , ah, they will wear vegetables in their hair altar 1 1 cannot but believe, that sume one who bad per n you will not mnko yourself ridiculouslin that un tr ?” 1 this !” The husband shrugged bis shoulders, exclaim, ing— How ridiculous—it is not common sense, I liopo man "Why not, my dear; it is not ugly—not ut all ugly. Besides, it is the fashion, nnd that is enough. 1 must have a carrot—1 must have one immediate- !y—a tine lurgo carrot We are going to the opera—1 must have my hair dressed so.” 1 ho husband allected to oppose Iter ; the lady persisted. She put the carrot in her hair, und went to tiie opera. The effect was extraordinary, hut not what she expected. Everbody laughed, and so very openly, that it was impossible for her to misunderstand it. The lady came home very melancholy, and quite disconcerted. "It is very singular; I was dressed in the last fushion, and yet people laughed ut me.” '•My dear,"replied the husband, "all fashions are not becoming to you. I have told you son tlmus. and times. \ uu should udapt your dress to your looks—a carrot is not becoming to a blonde.” Since then, this Indv hns not followed the fash ions so implicitly.—Lady's Book. ft arm, and the rich blond starling out from ! sive, and she listened to his kind voice and kinder cept for a day ur two at u lime, and they did not II.•Uil.. Ills.» I ....... l '....... !•!> fluiri IiaIiii'a. ’I’iu* > tiViL’is m.ii*/» limn li.'iultr nn I! o til htrmo i- llill’-i •> I white, so , the transparent skill, which lightly draped, like ' teachings with more interest than before. The a "ouzo covering, the blue veins benenllt; her wav. I look nf admiration .with which Squire Herford re. ing auburn tresses, and Iter blue, eloquent eye, her | guided her, as the congregation turned to listen to snoot voice aed clear, ringing laughter, echoing, the closing hymn, wns unnoticed by till eyes save like the louder mites of tho blue-bird,among tlio trees on the liill, cuinc to him in bis dreums. There is something holy in such first, early love, so unselfish and pure* How the man oftho world, in his musing hours, looks back upon it after years have glided by, even with tears, though it be not sorrowful, except in contrast with the present! herV. and as Ellen, William’s sister, took Iter band in tlio vestibule, with the enquiry, "Have you heard from William yet ?” and invited her home to tea, Lucy fell proud and happy. Ellen wits just fifteen, and though a lovely girl herself, she thought how happy she would he il'she as as beautiful as Lucy. But there was no envy I'liut eye, which to tho world is cold as it scans the ; in this thought; for she loved her brother too deur- crowd, is sometimes moistened with such remem brance, nnd the knitted brow relaxes fora moment, forgetful of its pride. William did not remit Itis industry, nor forget in this new feeling his nmliilion. Lovo but increased ids energy, and added u fresh incentive to exertion. Muny wore the air.castles lie built however, and more frequent his rambles among the hills; but iliat simple wild.briar by tlte foot-path, had tnor ly to feel anything but tho warmest love for the sweet ohject’nf his afllction. Ellen was a frequent visi or of Lucy’s; and when vacation brought Wil. limn home, in the last bright days of September, she shared Lucy’s joy al his return. Two years wore away, ami Lucy was still happy; for Wil. limit's letters were full of affection, and her inno cent bosom swelled with pride us she heard nuw und then, through the letters which Squire Herford interest than vally or glistening brook, or meudotv I received ft thu college president, that Wil. of waving verdure. Oftentimes he met Lucy there ! limn was winning golden opinions from his intruc- during the next two summers, but nhltougli sho had j tors. . grown sisterly mid confiding, ho wns scarcely les timid than when ho first began lo woo her. As for her. she liked to be with him there on the bill be. bind her father’s bouse, mid playfu.ly even call him her brother; but she did not know that her fond ness for him was love, nor that slio was the object of such a passion in him. 1 o be sure,on the &ub bath, she first glanced down from the gallery in Squire Herford** poiv, to see if William was alrea dy there, nnd fell a sort of fluttering when she met bis glistening.dark eve; mid was utiousy when he was not in his wonted sent the Sundny through ; und grew yet more rosy when site asked of his sis ter if he was ill, mid was more gleeful when lie took her and his sister out to rido in his lather » chaise, than when twirling her wli-e) m home ; hut she did not think this arose Irom love ; indeed si..- did not think to ask herself the reason. She liked her brother William, and was huppy. Lucv was admired by more young eyes than William Herford studied closely, nnd won the respect and esteem of bis fellow students. He had u strong mid brilliant mind ; and while his tal ents gained respect, bis affability and goodness of iiearl gained him many friends. Keeping aloof Irom disipaliuii. lie preserved his health; nnd al though Itis forehead was pale, and his sparkling eyes n little sunken, ho was not much changed, suvo in height, Irom the boy of seventeen. He still loved Lucy, and longed for vacation wills im patience, that lie might ngain kiss her soft cheek, mid hear the music of Tier voico ; but near the c'ose of his second year, bo hecamo acquainted with one wlio, while she rivalled Lucy’s beauty, possessed cultivation and mind fur superior. She wns older than William, and being not only accom- plished, but extremely fond of history and poetry, 'to soon found pleasure in her society and conver sation ; and when the term closed, he was for the first lime loth to return home,for Itis first love was I make more than hasty calls ut farmer Hill’s, nl. j though lie never neglected to scad Itis love to Ln- cy; and she, poor girl! found some consolation in j reading the letters which lie wrote to Ellen, arid ' which contained this littlo token of his remem > bra nee and esteem. Here was not a heart to break, simply because she ivns so unselfish; mid this too was tlio reason why William did not show lioiv deeply his heart wns wounded, und how bitterly his pride was slang, when he found that Laura Gay was in truth the heartless coquutto she had been represented. He full that the pain which ho suf fered was perhaps I lie just punishment for his fick leness, but it seared over his heart, and shut it to love, and lie went out into the world proof against the beauty, yet with a heart open to the distress of Ins fellow men, thu while it beat higher with u lof tier ambition. ***** Three or four >ears after, when Lucy wns the wife of a young farmer in the neighbor hood, Will iain Herford, who hud become u lawyer in one ol llie Atlantic cities, returned on n wedding tour to his native village ; nnd us he presented his wealthy but plain looking ludy to the guests assembled at his father’s house, a momentary sadness flitted iver his luce, wliilo ho shank hands with the young farmer’s lovely blue-eyed wife, and remembered the wild briar, and iiis first love lor llie bloumin Lucy Hill. K. H. B. Salt for PlumbTkees.— Mr. Benjamin Jacobs. ofDoicliester, Imd a small plumb tree which neve baruinorelhmihalf n dozen plumbs tlmt came to ma turity ;—seeing salt recommended »s n remedy,In applied two quarts, tho first uf March, in a space about two feet wide around the tree, commencing about six inches from the tree. It wus dug into the ground a little. The consequence lias been u fine lot of fruit. We saw this tree u short time since, and it was as full as it could bold. It wns evident that salt made the great co >ira*i between this and previous years as to tlio production nf fruit. Boston Cu llicolor. Roman Attachment.—Among the incredible number of persons who were proscribed under the second triumvirate of Romo were the celebrated orator Cicern and Ills brother Quintus. When the news of the proscription was brought to them, they endeavoured to make their escape to Brutus, in Macedun. They traveled together fi r some time, mutually condoling their had fortune ; but as their (Icpurtue had been very' precipitate, und they were not furnis iod with money nud other no. cessaries for the voyage, it wus agreed tlmt Cicero should make ivliut haste he could to the sea side to secure their passuge.uod that Quintus should return home to make more ninple provision. But iis in most houses,there are us many informers as domestics,his house nas in consequence, filled with soldiers uud assassins. Quintus concealed himself so effectual, ly that tho soldiers cunld not find lii/n. Enraged at their disappointment, they put bis son to torture, in order to muke him disclose the place of bis father’s concealment; but filial affection was proof in this young Roman against the most exquisite torments. An involuntary sigh nnd sometimes a deep f roan were all that could be exorted from the generous youth. His agonies were increased, but, with as tonishing fortitude, he still persisted in his resolu tion not to betray his father. Quintus wns not liir off, anil it may bettor bo imagine I than il can be expressed, how the heart of a father must have been affected with tho signs und groans of u soil expir ing in torture to save his life. He could beur it no longer; bo:, quitting the place of his concealment, ho presented himself In the assassins, beseeching them w ith a flood of tears to put him to death and dismiss the innocent child, whose generous beha vior tho triumvirs themselves, if informed oftho fact, would judge worthy oftlie highest approbation J reward.—Tho inhuman monsters, however, unmoved by tiie tears of tho father or the son, an swered they both must die—the father because lie was proscribed, and the eon because lie had con tiled Im fainer. Upon this n new contest of ten. irness arose who should die first, which, however, the assassins soon decided by beheading them b itli at the same time. Campbell, the Poet.—Mr. Campbell was, in stature, small, but well made. His eyes wute ve ry fine, and just such eyes ns Lawrence look de. light in painting, when he drew that fine picture of the pnet which will preserve his looks to the latest posterity. Ills lips were thin, nud in a constant twitter: thin lips are had in marble, nod Chaulrev refused to do bis bust beenuso his Iijis would never look well.—lie was ha'il, I have beard him say when only twenty four, und since that age Imd al most always worn a wig. There was a svrucery about almost every tiling tlmt hn did. lie would rule pencil.lines to write or,, and cnmnleto us MS. more in llm manner of Davies or Hereford lliuii I'mn Campbell. His w igs, in his palmy days, were true to thu last curl of studious perfection. He told u story with n great deal of humor, nod h id much ivii and art in setting off an anecdote that in others telling hud gone for nothing. The story of tl o mercantile Irnvellur front Glasgow was one of his best, and his proposing Napoleon's hcuiih at n meet, iog of authors because lie hud murdered a book seller (Palm) was licit in tlio extreme.—Farmer's Magatine. . minuted thu evil one suffered some injury, and that ’ tlm darkness favored his escape. Il is truly very rid colous in these peuple to believe that the re mains nf a devil resemble the sole of an old shoe.— Miss Lane’s English woman in Egypt. A Maniac Story.—A butcher, w-ho hnd been confined some time in the mnd house culled the Morislon, conceived an excessive hatred forn Del- gre, (a Turkish lrooper,)oneot his fellow prisoners. Hu received his provision of food from his family, and lie Induced Iiis wife one day on the occasion of her taking him his dinner, to conceal in her basket of food the instruments lie had used in Ills trams viz: a cleaver, it knife and a pair of hooks. I must observe, that those lunatics who do not appear dangerous have tighter chains than others, uud the chains of the person in question were of this description. When he had taken his meal, he pro ceeded to liberato himself; and as the cells com municated at tlio back, lie soon reached that of bis nearest neighbor, who delighted to see him free, exclaimed, •How is this ? Who cut your chains ?’ •1 did,’ replied the first,‘and here nro my imple ments.’ Excellent’ rejoined the other ; ‘cut mino too.’—‘Certainly,’ said he, and ho proceeded to liberate not only one, but two, three and fuur of Ills fellow prisoners. Now follows the tragical part nt the story. No keepers were present—the man who possessed the clever attacked the poor Delgc-e chained and unarmed as he was, slaughtered him, and, after dividing his body, hung it oil the hooks within tlio window of the cell, and believed him to bu ivliut Ito was a butcher. Inn few minutes thn liberated lunatics became uproarious, and one of them growing alarmed forced open tho door by which the keepers usually entered, found one of them, nnd gave the alarm.—The keeper instantly proceeded to the cell, and seeing the body of tliu murdered man, exclaimed—‘What have you sue. cceded in killing that Delgee 1 he was tho plague of my life,’ '1 have,’ answered the delinquent,‘and hear he hangs for sale. ‘Most excellont,’ replied tho keeper, ‘hut do not let him hang here, il will disgrace us, lot os bury him.’ ‘Where,’ asked ILe uiniiitic, still holding the clever in his band ‘Here is the cull,’ replied the other,‘nnd the fact cun never ho discovered.’ In an instant he threw down Ilia clever, and began to dig busily with Iiis hands.— lo the meantime tlio keeper entered by tho bnck of the cull, nnil throwing a collar over his neck, inHtnni- ly chained him nnd so finished this tragedy —The Englishwoman in Egypt. Value of Newspapers.—A thousand limes we have hoard this question und answer. Two genile- men meet—•Wliat’s tho news?’ nsks one. ‘Noth ing but wlmt you see in tho papers.’ They pass on afoul their business. Has ii ever been nnlieed that, j among the ibousund benefits of a newspupur, nut | the least is that it does utvay at once with titile- 1 tattle, gossip, street yarn, foolish exaggerations,&u.. j which once took up so much oftlie time of lliosu who were hearing or telling of some new thing.— ' One roui evil of social life is thus onded. The inun I rises io the morning, looks over the paper, nnd ii j satisfied that he knows all worth knowing of the ' passing history of the world. He has nothing tu j tell nod nothing to hour further. He is not annoy - I ed in the midst of his buisineit or pleasures by tho ! recital of affairs in which he takes no interest.— ; t'he same with women. Curiosity is gratified > without loss of time. Tlio scandal of tiie day bus employed a hundred busy meddling tongues io its i circulation und exaggeration Conversation lukei a higher lone. Principles of morals and taste are ! discussed, the new poem, the last book, the maga zine, or the review, becomes the subject of conver sation, Even in llie minor matters of life, society owes n large debt of gratitude to the newspa pers. There is nntliing so difficult lo bear, there is nothing which requires so much courage of tho most serviceable kind lo endure, as anxiety in soli- tude and inactivity. Tlio very movement of thu iiiiiul whe i we suffer great agitation lightens its weight; but when wo have to sit and count the live-long hours ulnee, confined la one small spuce, •tnd limited to mere reflection, thought becomes it liuiilicro, nr.d imagination a torment, and every feeling of our heart seems to war against our place. Whipped Use Husband.— Une Mrs, Mary Me Cue was arrested in New Orleans on the 1*4 Ii instant, for whipping iiei husband ! Mary mint on. lertuin some singular notion* in regard in house- uold and domestic discipline. Thn lirightcst jewel pertaining lo a woman is not worn upon hnr finger—neither does it glitter upon her bruclets—it lios buried behind a whole cargo of silks, satins and laces,in the casket of her mind.