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Pan) Jones. I From Miscellaneous Works , BY REV. J. T. HEADLEY. la person, Jones wu slight, being only five ieet and a half high. A stoop in the shoulders diminished still more his stature. But lie was firmly knit, and capable of enduring great fa- j tigue. He had dark eyes, and a thoughtful, pen sive look, when not engaged in conversation: hut | his countenance ligated up in moments of ex citcmenl, and in battle became terribly deters mined. His lips closed like a vice, while hi. : brow contracted with the rigidity of iron. The j tones of his voice were then haughty in the ex- j treme, and his words had an emphasis in them which those who heard never forgot. That he i was as brave as courage itself no one will doubt. He seemed unconscious of fear, and moved amid the storm of battle, and trod the j deck of his shattered and wrecked vessel, like one above the power of fate. Ido not believe he entertained the thought of surrendering his vessel to any force. It was a contingency he was unprepared for, and he acted as if con vinced that his own iron will and resolute cour age could overcome every obstacle. Thus, in his fight with the Serapis, he was fairly beaten several times, but did not seem to know it, and no doubt had resolved ,to sink with his flag flying. His boldness and success appear the more strange when one remembers what kind of vessels he commanded, of what materials his crews were composed, and the well, manned and ably-commanded vessels of bis adversary’. He would cruise without fear in a single sloop right before the harbors of Eng land, and sail amid ships double the s;ze of his own. But with all his fierceness in the hour of bat. tie, he had as kind a heart as ever beat. His sympathy seemed almost like sentimentality.— To see him in a hot engagement, covered with the smoke of cannon, himself working the guns, while the timbers around hitn were constantly ripping with the enemy’s shot, or watch him on the. deck of his dismasted vessel over which the hurricane swept and the sea rolled, one would have thought him destitute of emotion. But his reports of these scenes afterwards re sembled the descriptions of an excited specta tor unaccustomed to the scenes of carnage and terror. He was an old Roman soldier in danger, but a poet in his after accounts of it. Jones had great defects of character, but most of them sprung from his want of early educa tion. He was haughty to his under officers, and frequently overbearing to his superiors.— But his chief fault was vanity. He would ad mit no superior, and hence never acknowledged that he received his deserts. He was constant ly pushing his claims, tiil he wearied out fits friends, and sometimes disgusted his admirers. He was as bombastic as he was brave—a con tradiction of character seldom exhibited. There was something of the charlatan about him, which reminds one of Beruadoite ; and he nevei hesitated to puff himself, and dilate elo qtiently on his own achievements. Out of this same vanity grew his inordinate love of pomp and display. Io this respect he aped the nobles with whom he associated. But money was frequently wanted to carry out his extravagant notions, and hence he became unscrupulous in the means he used to obtain i. He was chiv alric in his admiration of women—writing po. etry and making love to some in every port where he stopped—and frequently became in volved in intrigues that lessen our respect for his character. He was a restless being, and his brain constantly teemed with schemes, all of which he deemed practicable, and hence be came querulous and (ault-finding when others disagreed with him. Many of his plans for the improvement ol our marine were excellent, and it only wanted funds to render them worthy of immediate attention by our Government.— This restlessness grew out of his amazing en ergy —he was constantly seeking something on which to expend himself, and this was the rea son why he joined the Russian service after peace was proclaimed in the United States. It was this aione that carried him from his low condition through so many trials, and over so many obstacles, to the height of lame at last reached. He was not mero adventurer—owing his elevation to headlong daring—he was a hard student as well as hard fighter, and had a strong intellect as well as strong arm. He wrote with astonishing fluency, considering the neglect of his early education. He even wrote eloquent ly at times, and always with force. His words were well chosen, and he was able to defend himself with the pen as with the sword. He now and then indulged in poetry, especially in his epistles to the ladies, and his verses were as good as the general run of poetry of that kind. Paul Jones was an irregular character, but his good qualities predominated over his had ones ; and as the man who first hoisted the American flag at sea, and received tho first salute offered it by a foreign nation, and the first thut carried it victoriously through the fight on the waves, he deserves our highest praise and most grateful remembrance. With such a man to lead the American navy, and stand before it as the model of a brave man, no wender it has covered itself with glory. The Wife. BY JOHN O. WHITTIER. Sho was a beautiful girl when I first saw her. She was standing up by the aide of her lover at the marriage altar. She was slightly pale—yet ever and anon, as the ceremony pro. ceeaed, a faint tinge ol crimson crossed her beautiful cheek, like the reflection of a sunset cloud upon the clear waters of a quiet lake. Her lover, as he clasped her hand within his own, gazed on her a moment with unmingied admiration, and the warm and eloquent blood shadowed at intervals his manly forehead and melted in beauty on his lips. And they gave themselves to one another in the presence of heaven, and ever) heart bless ed them as they went their way rejoicing hi their love. Years passed on and I again saw these lov •rs. They were seated together where the light of sunset stole through half closed crimson curtains, lending a richer lint to the delicate carpeting and tho exquisite embellishment of the gorgeous apartment. Time had slightly changed them in outward appearance. The girlish buoyancy of the one had indeed given place to the grace of perfect womanhood, and hr lips were somewhat paler, and a faint line of care was slightly perceptible upon her brow. Her husband’s brow, too, was marked some what more deeply than his age might warrant ; anxiety, and ambition, and pride, had grown over it ; a silver hue was mingled around his temples almost to baldness. He was half re clining on his splendid ottoman w’ith his face half hidden by his hand, as if he feared that the deep and troubled thoughts which oppressed him were visible upon his features. “Edward, you are ill to-night,” said his wife, in a low ands weet voice, as she laid her hands on his own. Indifference from those we love is terriblo to the sensitive bosom. It is as if the sun of heaven refused its wonted cheerfulness and glared upon ns with a cold, dim. and forbidding glance. It is dreadful to feel that the only be ing of our love refuses to ask our sympathy ; that she broods over the feeling which he scorns or feirs to reveal ; dreadful to watch the con vulsive features of a gloomy brow, the indefin able shadows of hidden emotion, the involunta ry sign of sorrow in which we are forbidden to participate, and whose character we cannot know. The wife essayed once more— “ Edward,” she said, slowly and mildly, and affectionately, “the time has been when you were willing to confide your secret joys and sorrows to one who has never, I trust, betray ed your confidence. Why, then, dear Edward, is this cruel reserve ? You are troubled, and yet refuse to tell mo the cause.” Something of returning tenderness softened, for an instant, the cold severity ol the husband’s features : but it passed away, and a bitter sinile was his only reply. Time passed on and the twain were separa ted fiom each other. The husband sat gloomy, alone in the damp cell of a dungeon. He had followed ambition, ns a God, and had fallen in a high career. He had mingled with men whom his heart loathed ; he had sought out the fierce and wronged spirits of the land, and had breathed into them the madness of revenge. He had drawn his sword against his country; he had fanned rebellion to a flame, and it had been quenched in human blood. He had fall, en, miserably fallen, and was doomed to die the death of a traitor. The door of the dungeon opened, and a light form entered and threw herself into his arms. The softest light of summer fell upon the |ale brow, and wasted cheek of his once beautiful wife. “Edward, my dear Edward,” said she, “I have come to save you ; 1 have reached you af ter a thousand difficulties, and, I thank God, my purpose is nearly executed.” Misfortune had softened the proud heart of manhood ; and as the husband pressed his pale wife to his bosom, a tear trembled on his eye lash. “I have not deserved this kindness,” he mur mured in a choked tone of agony. “Edward,” said his wife, in a faint low voice, which indicated extreme and fearful debility, “we have not a moment to lose. By an ex change of garments you will be able to pass out unnoticed. Haste, or you may yet be too late. Fear nothing for me. lam a woman ; and they will not injure me for my efforts in behalf of a husband dearer than life itself.” “But, Margaret,” said the husband, “you look sadly ill. You cannot breathe the air ol this dreadful cell.” “Oh, speak not to me, my’ dearest Edward,” said the devoted woman ; “I can enlure any thing for your sake. Haste, Edward, and all will be welland she aided with a trembling hand, to disguise the proud form of her husband in female garb. “Farewell, my love, my preserver,” whis pered the husband in the ear of the disguised wife, as the officer gternly reminded the supposed lady that the time allotted to her visit had ex pired. “Farewell, we shall not meet again !” re sponded the wife, and the husband passed out unsuspected, and escaped the enemies of his life.” They did meet again, but only as the dead meet, in the awful comrnunings of another world. Affection had borne up her exhausted spirit until the last great purposes of her exertions were ac complished in the safety of her husband, and when the bell tolled on the morrow, and the prisoner’s cell was opened, the guards found wrapped in the habiliments of their destined victim, the pale but beautiful corpse of the Wife. A Story with a Moral. We invite attention to the following trite story, from the Boston Chronotype. The moral it conveys is especially worthy of remembrance. The doctrine ol charity cannot be too earnestly or too frequently inculcated. We are among those who believe that a large portion of the convicts who crowd our Peni tentiaries, might have been rescued from the down ward path, had they, in early lile, met with some be nevolent, generous and kind-hearted individual, wil ling not only to advise, but assist.— Sat. Eve. Post. About ten months ago, Mr. John Spear, upon one of his usual visits to the Police Court one morning, n >ticed, among the prisoners, a youth, who was poor ly clad, and, for some cause, was weeping. The philanthropist sat down by his side, and the follow ing conversation ensued : Why are you here, my son ?” “ l atn accused of selling newspapers, sir, without a license ” “Areyou guilty?” “ Yes.sir. “ Have >ott been arrested before ?” “ Yes, sir—twice.” “ What f.i ?” *• For selling newspapers.” “ Why do you persist in doing it ?” “ Because I don't know what else to do to get a living.” “ jlave you a father ?” “ No, sir; my father is dead.” “ Is your mo-her living?’’ “ My mother is a drunkard ; she don’t take any care of tne. I don't know where she is now /” As he uttered these last words, the deep waters of the little fellow's soul burst forth afresh, and he ex pressed his grief aloud. “ Where do you lodge ?” continued the philanthro pist. “ Near Union Street, sir; I pay nine pence a night for my lodging, in advance, and I buy two plates of beans in the course of the day, for which I pay as much more.” *• How do you spend your evenings?” “ 1 walk about the streets, or go into the auction rooms.” “ Why don’t you sit down in the house where you lodge, by the fire, and read ?” * Because tfie woman of the house is poor. She has no room for me at her fire.” “ Would you I ike to go into the country and work, if a place could be obtained for you ?” *• Yes, sir; I would be glad to go and work for my living. I don’t want to stay in Boston, but I have no one to get a place for me. I don’t want to go down to the jail again.” The philanthropist new spoke to the Judge, re specting the prisone . This seemed to worry Mr. Power.'the petty tyrant and Clerk of the Court, who seems ever ready to throw frozen water upon any thing that does not harmonize with the discordant music of his soul. He informed Mr. Spear that it would be of no use to try to do any thing for that Si QOTTGO §1 SO §SKOTTOS3II = boy, because he had been twice sent to jail for the same thing before, and it did him no good “ That is a good and sufficient reason,” wag the calm and determined reply of the philanthropist, “ why he should not be sent there again.” After some conversation, the Judge reduced the fine to one cent and cost, which the philanthropist paid, and then taking the boy by the hand, they both left the Court. Now for the sequel. Mr. Spear took the boy to his own house, and supplied him with food and clo thing, and obtained a place for bin} in the country. Last week, the day before Thanksgiving, the grate ful boy, for the first time, came to the city, to see his benefactor. He had been steadily at work at the place which Mr. Spear provided for him, and is still at work there, earning nine dollars a month and his board. Such is the lesson which charity teaches us. We will not moralize upon the evil which would have pursued tfiat boy, had lie been left to the mercy of the Police Court, but thank the generosity of him whose only wish is to heal the wounds of woe, and who always hath a tear for want, and a hand Open as day for melting pity, for his noble service in the cause of charity. Strauss and Death. —Strauss was a man of remarkable genius, and not only developed the powers of the German dance, in an unpre cedented degree, hut influenced the. whole of modern music. Composers of no mean note, although not of the first class, were known to vis it Vienna to get themes for new operas from Strauss’ new waltzes. His decease reminds us of a capital story which appeared in some Ger man paper shortly after the cholera of’3*2. We heard it from a clever Viennese musician, and wish that we could give it with the spirit of his side-splitting recital. Here it is as wc remem ber it : When the cholera was at its height, Death knocked one morning at the panel of Strauss’s chamber, having an old woman by his side, whom he had picked up next door. “Corfie, Strauss,” said the grim sheriff who collects Na ture’s debts, “you must go along with me.” “With you,” exclaimed the terrified musician. “No, I can’t; I won’t. I’m only thirty years old. Spare me a little longer!” “No, Strauss, you must come ; don’t keep me waiting ; I have an immensity to do these stirring times.” ‘Oh! I can’t go ; I am making thirty thousand thalers a year. You can’t be so hard-hearted as to take away from Vienna a man ofonly thirty years with thirty thousand thalers a year !’ ‘None of this nonsense. Hard-hearted ? Don’t you see through my ribs that I have no heart at all ? Come along, Strauss, come along'!’ ‘But consid er, Death, what the Emperor will think of you, and how the whole court will vote you a bore, if they get no new waltzes next winter!’ ‘Pshaw, for your Emperor! I will carry’ him off if he says much. I should like to see them put Death out of fashion.’ ‘Well, then, since I must go, let me play one more waltz before I leave my darling instrument,” pleaded the poor trembler. ‘So you may, but see that it is a good one,’ ans wered Death, cocking his ear like a connoisseur. Strauss played the waltz, Death marking the measure complacently; and saying, when it was through, with a patronizing air, ‘Pretty well, Strauss ; you may play another.’ Strauss be gait in a more spirited strain. Death kept tho time with hand and foot; the old w'oinan kept the time also; until, unable to resist the more than magical impulse, he threw his arms about her, and round and round spun death and the old woman. Faster and faster played Strauss; faster and faster whirled Death and the old wo* man. Strauss playing for the little remnant ol his life, showed no signs of weariness, but Death was getting exhausted and giddy. ‘Stop, Strauss! stop?’ he cried. Strauss played on. ‘Stop! I say, Strauss !’ Strauss only put on a crescendo. ‘Strauss! Strauss! I can’t stop myself, if you don’t stop ! Stou, I say !’ ‘Will you give me clear, if I stop!’ asked Strauss. I, can’t—do—that,’ says Death, gasping out his words. “Then yon shall waltz on,’ answers Strauss, exulting in his power to create a soul under the ribs of Death. At last, Death, beat en out, says, still whirling like a dervish, ‘l’ll— make—a—bargain-with-you-ou-ou-ou.” ‘What is it ?’ replies Strauss, playing yet more furious ly. ‘You—shall—live—for—years longer—if —you —will—pay—me—instead-.-of your life— the lives—of fifty thousand---other—peo-ee.ple— each--ye.ar.ea-r !’ ‘Done !’ cries Strauss. So ever since, fifty thousand people each year have killed themselves dancing Strauss’ waltzes! [K nickerborker . The Laborer. The laborer, the laborer, God’s nobleman is he— His works are graven on the soil, They float on every sea ; The key-stone in the social arch, Utility his crest — • His days are spent in manly toil, His nights yield balmy rest. O’ In sickness there is no hand like a woman’s hand—no heart like a woman’s heart—no eye so un tiring. no hope so fervent. Woman by a sick man’s couch is divinity impersonated. Dr. Belknap and Opfosers.— A rough country man asked Dr. Belknap, one day, if he really believ ed there had lived such a man as Job. The Dr. took up his Bible and made him read : “There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job.” “ You see the Bible says so.” “ So it does,” drawled out the man. “Do you know any thing to the contrary ?” asked the Doctor. “ No, I don’t,” replied the man. “ Neit er do I!” said the Doctor, and thus ended the inquiry. In a mixed com, any, hearing a person speak in a very free manner against the Christian religion, he asked: “ Have you found one that is better?” And the re ply being in the negative, he added : “ When you do, let me know, and I will join you in adopting it.” Profanity. —The Rev. Dr. Cox, while late'y speaking of the “ sins of the nation,” said : “ There is one awfully prominent—profane swearing. But ol all the dark catalogue, there is not one more vile and execrable. It commonly does, and loves to clus ter with othersins; and he who looks up and insults his Maker to his face, needs but a little more im provement to make him a finished devil.” To Curs. Hams.— ls people will pursue the follow ing method of curing hams, they will have them rich, juicy, and of excellent flavor. Take a quarter pound of saltpetre, two pounds of fine salt, one quart molasses, and incorporate them well together; rub the mixture on the hams thoroughly, then pack them in a barrel or tub, and let them lay one week ; take them up and place the upper layer at the bottom, and let them lay another week. Make a pickle strong enough to bear up an egg, and pour it on un til! the hams are covered : keep them in the pickle four weeks ; take them up, and, after draining, they will be ready for smoking. How to Make ▲ Good Cup of Tea.—M. Soyer recommends that before pouring in any wa ter, the teapot, with the tea in it, shall be placed in the oven till hot, or heated by means of a spir it lamp, or in front of the fire, (not too close, of course,) and the pot then filled with boiling wa ter. The result, he says, will be, in about a minute, a most delicious cup of tea, much superi or to that drawn in the ordinary way. Prospectus. The Bunkum Flag Staff is published every now and then at Bunkum, and also at the office •if the Knickerbocker in New York. It will take a firm stand on the side of virtue and mo rality. It has received the most marked encomi ums from the press and from individooals. Our brother has also written to us in most flatterin’ terms of our journal. We shall endeavor to merit these marks of favor, and it affords us the most adequate satisfaction to inform our readers that Miss Mary Ann Delightful, the pleasant w’riter, who is all smiles and dimples, is engaged not to be married, reader, though that is an event no doubt to take place—but is engaged to furnish a series of articles for this paper. Oth er talent will be snapped up as it occufs. All kinds ofjob work executed with neatness and despatched. The Fine Arts and Literature ful ly discussed- There will be a series of dis criminating articles on music, to which we call the attention of amatoors. Principles of’Ninety Eight, and all the great measures of the day, as well as all other principles, fully sustained ; vice uprooted bv the heels, and cast him like a nox ions weed away. For farther particulars see large head : The Bunkum Flag-Staff Is Edited by Mr. Wagstaff. Horses and cabs to let by the editor. Old newspapers tor sale at this offis. Wanted, an Apprentice. He must be bound for eight years, fold and carry papers, ride post onc-t a week to Babylon, Pequog, Jericho, Old Man’s, Mount Misery, Hungry Harbor, Hetchabonnuck, Cor am, Miller’s place, Shunk’s Manor, Fire Island, Mosquito Cove and Montauk Point, on our old white mare, and must find and blow his own horn. Run Away, an Indented Apprentice, named John Johns, scar on his head, one ear gone, and no debts paid of his contracting. California gold, banks at par, pistareens, fippenny bits and Uni* ted’n Sates’n currency in general, received in subscription. Also, store pay, potatoes, corn, rye, oats, eggs, beans, pork, grits, hay, o Id rope, lambs’ wool, shovels, honey, shorts, dried cod, catsup, oil, bul’nut bark, paints, glass, putty, hemp, snake root,cord wood, live geese feathers, saxafax, dried apples, hops, new- cider, axe-hand les, mill stones, hemlock gum, bacon and hams, ginshang root, vinegar, punkins, ellacompuin, harness, hops, ashes, slippery-ellurn bark, clams, nails, varnish, sheet iron, sapasgo cheese, old junk, whisk brooms, manure, and all other pro duce, taken in exchange. Those who don’t want the last number of the Flag Staff pleas return it to this offis, post paid, ns the demand for that number is very great. A patent churn and washing machine, to go by dog power, are left here for inspection. For sale a One Year Old Heifer ; Pair of Young Bullocks in Harness. Wanted to hire, a New Milch Fairer Cow ; give eight quarts of milk night and morning ; also, to change milks with some neighbor with a cheese press for a skim milk cheese once’t a week. [Knickerbocker for January. “Editors Free.” —While on board of one of the splendid steamers which ply between Buffa lo and Chicago, the fur on our chin grew rather longer than was agreeable,and we repaired to the barber’* shop on board, to have it taken off. The fellow did it up in first rate style. After he had combed and oiled nur head, brushed our clothes, and slicked us up fine, we felt gratified, pulled out a dime, and proffered it to him as a reward for his services. He drew himself up with con siderable pomposity. “I understood,” said he, “dat you is an editor?” “Well, what of it?” said we. “We never charge editors nuffin,” said he. “But, my woolly friend,” said we, “there are a good many editors travelling now. a-days, and such liberality on your part will prove a ruinous business.” “Oh, neber mind,” said he, “we makes it all up off de gemmen !” [ Western paper. Perpetual Motion Again, —The Maine Far mer and Gazette states that Mr. S. B. Walton, of Livermore Falls, in that State, has at last in vented perpetual motion, that it can move a clock, and “has been in operation, unless stopped by some foreign agent, for a year or more.” There are three perpetual motions at present in the field, one in Georgia, one in Pennsylvania and one in Maine. When will men be wise ? no machine can give out more power than it receives. CfcCr’ A New Orleans paper is responsible for the following : “Why have you volunteered?” said a rather care-worn looking newly-enrolled volunteer, to a line looking young country soldier. “Why. I volunteered because I have no wile, and go in for war,” was the unequivocal reply : “and now, why have you volunteeredhe added. “Ah” said the little care-worn man, with a sigh, “1 have volunteered because I have a uife and go in for peace” Hoosieh Arguments. —Gentlemen of the Ju ry, said a Hoosier Lawyer, I ar satisfied ofyour integrity and sense ofjustioe,and so are my client, and I respect your honesty so much, that if I was as rich as John Jacob Astoria, I wouldn’t offer you a bribe on no consideration. I scorns to in fluence you in any manner without any intention of woundin’ yer feelings, which are no doubt as tender as a barked shin, that if you give your verdict in favor of my client, it ar my settled in tention to take you to the doggery for a drink twice around, (the Judge and Constables inclu ding,) but if you are deaf to the voice of law and honor, just as soon as the court have adjourned, we mean to lick you like thunder. Value of Honor on a Death Bed. —A dis tinguished character had an extraordinary mark of distinction and honor sent him by his prince, as he lay on his death bed. “Alas !” said he, looking upon it, “this is a mighty fine thing in this country ; but I am just going to a country where it will be of no service to me.” Cultivation of the Castor Bean in Ohio.— A company of manufacturers have recently put up a castor oil mill in Cincinnati, Ohio, and in order to encourage the growth of the castor bean in that State, propose to furnish all farmers wishing to cul tivate them with seed, and contract with them for all they raise, at the market price. The present price is $2 a bushel. The bean is planted and cultivated the same as Indian corn, and will produce from 30 to 50 bushels an acre. The market is now supplied to a considerable extent from Illinois. British India.— lt contains 100,000,000 of peo ple ; is provided with an army of 300,000 men, whose support costs §70,000,000 per annum, the whole puolic revenue of India being only twice $70,000,000. There are thousands of military officers brought from Europe, whose appointments are a source of patronage in the hands of influential men. In 1846, the public debt of India (apart from that of Eng land) was $187,000,000, the annual interest on which was nearly $9,000,000. Languages. —There are three thousand six hun dred and sixty-four known languages now in use in the world. Os these, nine hundred and thirty-seven are Asiatic, five hundred and eighty-seven European ; two hundred and seventy-six African; and one thousand six hundred and twenty-four American I dialects. I O’ A preacher, who advised a drowsy hearer to take a pinch of snuff occasionally at service, to keep him awake, was advised, in return, to put snuff in his sermons. O’ A negro’s idea of love, as given by one of the Ethiopian Serenaders :—“Ah, nigger ! feel as I was up in the clouds between two hot buckwheat cakes, and all the little angels were pouring down ’lasses on me.” O” The Freshmen at old Dartmouth made them selves quite merry bv the following conundrum:—— “ Why is the Sophomore class, studying trigonome try, like the scribes and pharisees of old ? Because it is a wicked generation seeking after a sine, <kc. The sophs retort by the following :—“ W liy is the freshmen recitation room like that remarkable tree, whose leaves quiver in the lightest breeze ? Be cause it Is an ass pen, (aspen.”) O” A western girl, after giving her lover a hearty smack, exclaimed :—“ Dog my cat, if you haint been takin’ a little rye, old host.” Going I ■ at one.—The following singular an nouncement of a marriage appeared in a late Balti more Argus: “ Married.— On the 12th nit., by the Rev. E. h. Allen, Charles W. Armstrong, all ot this city. ’ Hope he has a good time. D” Why is President Taylor like the Pope of Rome ? Because his great State papers are “bulls.” Astonishing Transmogrific • tion. —We saw a man swallow half a dozen glasses, and in less tlmn ten minutes after he became a tumbler ! O’ An Editor at a dinner fable, being asked if he would take some more pudding, replied : —“Owing to a crowd of other matter, I am unable to make room lor it.” “Shon,’ ’ said a Dutchman, “you may say what you please ’bout bad neighbors; I bad te vorst neighbors as. never was. Mine pigs and mine hens come home mit dere ears split, and todder day two of them come home missing /” Taking the Census.—llow many are there in this family ? Do you mean children and all ? Certainly. , Ah, then, there ain't none—’cause my children s all gals, ’cept John, and he ain’t my child. D’ye count John ? How many females are there in the family ? Females! Let me see, there ain't none but Bid dy,’the hired gal. ’ I understood you to say that your children were all girls. La! Yes ! Wal, d’ye count them too ? Certainly, I do— l count all who make their home in your family—old and young—men, women, and children. Snakes alive ! Then yon want to put down the old man, I s’pose —don't you ? What old man ? My old man, to be sure. I thought you said that John, the servant, was the only male in the family. So I did—but I didn’t s’pnse ‘ males ’ meant de cripit old men, like my husband. Poor dear ! He s been all but dead with palsy, six years next hoeing. Now tor the females. Well, here’s Biddy, and Prudence, and Grace, and Jemima, and—that's all four of ’em. But you havn’t included yourself. Gracious! D’ye put down the old woman, too? ’Pears to me the State’s mighty curus this year. Singular Ignorance. —A countryman being in Buffalo lately, and after being shown the sights by a friend, suddenly asked, “ But where is the Buffalo platform ?” The gentleman accompanying him, ex plained, with some difficulty in restraining himself, that the staging put up on that occasion, had been taken down after the performance was over ! Not Inviting. —A coffin maker having apartments to let, pasted his bills upon the coffins in the win dow', announcing ‘Lodgings for single gentlemen.’ The Hit Palpable. —A few’ days since a travel ler stepped into a bank, and immediately after his entrance, pulled off his hat, coat, and cravat. This done, he cast a look at the cashier, who was seated in a corner, “calm as a summer morning,” arid, with a commanding shake of the head, said : Hadn't you belter be getlin’ that ‘ere water healed ?” The teller informed him that ht was in the w'rong “shop.” “ You are in a bank, sir, not a barber’s shop.” “ Bank, eh !” ejaculated the stranger, “ Dang me, they told me it was a shaving shop.” O’ Joe Dun, an English bailiff, living in the reign of Hpnry VII., was so indefatigable in his business, that it became a proverb, when a person did not pay his debts, “ Why don’t you dun him ?” Hence origi nated the word dun. O’ Another little addition is anticipated to the do mestic circle of Queen Victoria. D* “Sal,” said lisping Sam Snooks, “if you don’t love me, thay tho; and if you do love me. thay tho; and if you do love me, and don’t like to thay tho, squeeth my hand.” She put her hand upon her bus sum, Sam felt the gentle pressure of t’other paw, and was as happy as a pollywoggle. Not so Bad. —One of our townsmen, meeting with one of the strolling organ players, was in clined to engage in conversation with him, and asked him : “What part of the great drama of life do yen perform ?” i “I mind my own business !” was the brief reply. Popping the Question. —“ Sally, don’t I like you?” .“Law, Jim, 1 reckon so.” “ Hut, don't you know it, Sally. Don’t you think I’d tear the eyes out of any tom cat that dare look cross at you ?” “ I s’pect you would.” “ Well, the tact of it is, Sally, I—” “Oh, now, don’t Jim—l feel all overish.” “ And, Sally, I want you to—” “Don’t say any thing more, I shall—” “ But, I must, I want you to—” “ O hush, don’t I, oh—” “ I want you to-night to get—” “What, so soon? Oh, no, impossible: Father and Mother will be angry with me.” “ How, be rnad at you for doing for me such a fa vor as to m—” “ Yes, dear me, I’m so agitated.” “ But there’s some mistake, for all I want to have you do is, to— mend my skirt-collar.” Strakoscii and Cotton.— At the grand con cert the other evening, while Strakosch was per. forming a very difficult piece with variations on the piano, a cotton planter who was admiring the dexterity with which the musician made use of his fingers, more than the music, exclaimed to a friend : “By the Lord, Harry, what a magnifi cent cotton picker that fellow would make !” A Quack Answered. — A quack in Boston, visit ing his patient one morning, was accosted thus : “ Doctor, what is it that keeps the meat and drink apart in the stomach ?” “ I’ll tell you,” says the quack ; “in every person’s throat, there are two pipes and a clapper; now when we go to eat, that clapper shuts the drinking pipe.” “ Well. Doctor,” replied the patient, “that clapper must play darned sharp when we eat pudding and milk!” “ Have you got Mitford’s Greece?” asked a lady of a bookseller's lad who was rather raw. “No, ma’am,” replied the latter, “we don’t keep] no grease here ; but you can get it at Barney O’Drip- ; pen’s, the grocer, on the next corner.” Parsing Extraordinary. —The following scene is said to have occurred in a school not a hundred miles from London : —Teacher: “ What part of speech is the word egg ?”—Teacher: “ Is it m.iscu- j line, feminine or neuter?” Boy, (looking sharp:) 1 “Can’t say, sir, till it’s hatched.” Teacher : ‘ ‘Well, j then, my lad, can you tell me the case ?” Boy, 1 (quickly 0 “ Oh, yes, sir, it’s in the shell.” “ Bob, is that dog a hunter ?” “ No, he is half hunter and half setter ; he hunts! bones when he’s hungry, and sits by the stove when ! he is satisfied.” The Value of tbc Worth and South to Each Other. In a vigorous article on this subject signed “L,” which we find in the Columbia Telegraph, tho writer says : “The South, I have said, is eminently agri cultural. She raises not only’ the great staples of cotton, rice, tobacco, and sugar, in abundance, but enough also of the ordinary bread-stuffs for domestic consumption and some little for expor tation. The North, from the unfavorable char acter of her climate, being cold, inhospitable and unproductive, raises none of the former, and bare* ly enough of the latter to sustain her dense pop* ulation. It is true she exports provisions, but l doubt if the rice of the South, the corn, wheait and pork of the West, were excluded, whether she would have anything of this kind to spare for this purpose. Consequently her dependence up* on other sections for every other agricultural ’ production is clear and unquestionable. Admit* ting, however, that I am in error in regard to hes capacity for the production of articles of htimaw lood, the South at least is not at all dependent up* on her for this, asVirginin, Maryland, Kentucky# Tennessee, and Missouri, leaving out the’ mountain region of the Carolinas and Georgia# will be fully able to supply all our wants and seeds Europe besides. “Sugar, rice and tobacco, may be considered as luxuries demanded by the civilization or ef feminacy ot the age, but cotton is not. This latter with the ordinary breadstuff's, are the absolute necessaries of life, (clothing being as necessary as food) and neither can be dispensed with. The first, from its cheapness and greater adapta tion to various fabrics, has become and must ever continue to be, the chief article for clothing the world ; and fortunately for the South. Providence has so ordered that it can only be raised in its greatest perfection within a belt of 8 degrees in width, extending from 29 deg. to 37 deg. north latitude, and from the Atlantic to the Rio Grande river or its neighborhood. So great and univer sal has become the consumption of this article alone, so necessary to the occupation and com fort of the laboring millions of Europe and Eng land, that two years ago,the London Times ad mitted, that if the supply was cut off even for % single year, a revolution would be the conse quence, probably one overturning our time-hon ored institution. The same may be said of the North, for the same state of things there exists, though perhaps not to the same aggravated ex tent. The South has nothing ofthHf kind to fear ; the absence then of a positive evil resulting t the North from a separation may be set down as a gain to the former to some extent. “Ol this article of cotton alone, the North now consumes 500,000 bales, worth say 815,000,000. Affer its manufacture, it is supposed that it has been increased in value ten-fold, or that North ern labor and Northern machinery has added 8135,000,000 to the value of its first cost —hence it is readily seen how great an item in their prosperity this single product (and our favored clime must be. Upon this, then, and the other great staples of rice, tobacco, and sugar, rests mainly the shipping, commercial and rnanufactu-i ring interests of the whole North. “If it were all cut offi as it would be by the abolition ot slavery, the North would be ruined beyond redemption in less than five years.” Gca. Cass and the Wilmot Proviso. We have before expressed the opinion that ther Wilmot Proviso, or any other measure of a similar character, even though it might pass the House of Representatives, could not, by any process of politi cal maneuvering, be forced through the Senate. We are confident enough Senators from free States to deteat its passage, could be found to vote against it. In this estimate we include Mr. Benton among these in favor of the proviso, though it is more prob able that he will use his influence against it. As tho Senate is composed of sixty meml>ers, equally divi ded between free and slave States, there being fif teen of each, it would require the casting vote ot the Vice President, Mr. Fillmore, to settle the question, if the members should ail vote according to their sectional affinities. Giving Mr. Benton to the Fre Soilers, in such a rase the Proviso would have a ua --! jority of two. But it is well known that at least tw | Senators from the free Slates were decidedly opposed I to all legislation by Congress on the subject ol slave jry in the Territories. These gentlemen were I Messrs. Douglass ot Jllliuois, and Cass of Michigan. I They were both instructed by the Legislatures of j their respective States to record their votes in favor j of the restrictive clause, and on this account much | curiosity has been manifested concerning the course | they would pursue in the dilemma in which they are | thus placed. Both are opposed to the Wilmot Provi so, yet both yield assent to the doctrine of instruc tion, contending that the Senator is bound to obey implicitly the wishes of his constituents, or resign the seat to which he was chosen as the representa tive of their interests and opinions. Mr. Douglass, it has been stated, will in this instance give Ids previ ously avowed notions the go-bv, in voting against the instructions of his State Legislature. Mo one yet can tel! whether this rumor is founded in truth, ’ but no long time will elapse before Mr. Douglass must take a position and let the public know what he is going to do. Air. Cass, if appears, has already defined his position, and it turns onl to be the identi cal one to which he was assigned by common rumor. We perceive by the St. Louts Republican of the 10th inst., that “he has written a letter to a friend is Jefferson City, Mo., which was published in the Metropolitan of that place, and in which he avows his intention never to vote for the proviso, and de clares that rather than be compelled to do so he will abandon his place as Senator from Michigan. The precise words which he uses, as we find them quoted ! m the Republican, are these : “ 1 am instructed by the Legislature of Michigan to vote for the Wilmot Proviso. This I shall never do. But when the time comes I shall give my views in full upon the subject, and resign my seat in the Senate.” ‘Phis is periectly explicit. It admits of no misin terpretation. If is now certain that Gen. Cass will, resign his seat in the Senate if the proviso come be fore that body. It is also an acknowledgment of the right of instruction and the duty of the Senator to obey or resign. To this extent the St. Louis Re ! publican considers tiie letter a censure on Col. Ben ton and Senator Douglass, both of whom are stand ing out against their instructions. It will, that pa per intimates, be used with decided ettect against Col. Benton in Missouri, and questions very much whether the Bentonians would have proposed a com plimentary resolution to Gen. Cas, such as they passed on the Bth inst., had they known that he waa writing letters to their great leader’s own State, cal culated to weaken his position in his appeal to that people of Missouri from the instructions of the Legis lature.—N. O. Delta. ITT Senator Cass in his late speech, paid the foI lowing tribute to the press: *• It pronounces the opinion of the present day, and anticipates tiie judgment of posterity. None are so high as to be beyond its censure, none so low I as not to be encouraged by its approbation.” Mr. Calhoun s V\ orjc on Government. Washington correspondent of the New York iicrald, I says: . Mr. Calhoun s work on Government, with com* ments on the. history of the Constitution, is now in press, and will soon be published j . ! ET Tt is estimated that during the last two years, | sixtv-four thousand and fifty housps, collectively two’ hundred miles in length, have been built in London,’ i Great Britain. - , OCT Th erp will not be a total eclipse of the sun in any part of America until the 7th of Au gust, 1360—twenty years.