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' the sowssiusaa Hill be published every SATURDAY Morning, In the Brick Building, at the Corner of Cotton Avenue and First Street, | s THE CITY OF MACON, GA. 15V WS. B. IIAKKISOK. TERMS 7 For tho Paper, in advance, per annum, $2. if not paid in advance, $2 50, per annum. If not paid until the end of the Year $3 jOO. gy Advertisements will be inserted at the usual rltes and when the number of insertions de tirod is not specified, they will be continued un iil forbid and charged accordingly. dj* Advertisers by tho Year will be contracted with upon the most favorable terms. (IfJ’Salesof Land by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, are required by Law, to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours „f ten o’clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af ternoon, at the Court House of the county in which the Property is situate. Notice of these Balesmust I,e given in a public gazette sixty hays previous to the day of sale. . dj"Bales of Negroes by Administators, Execu tors or Guardians, must be at Public Auction on, the first Tuesday in the month, between the legal hours of sale, before the Court House of the county where the Letters Testamentary, or Administration or Guardianship may have been granted, first giv ing notice thereoffor sixty days, in one ofthe pub lic gazettes of this State, and at the door of the Court House where such sales are to be held. iFJ-Notice for the saleof Personal Property must 6e given in like manner forty days previous to the dav of sale. to the Debtors and Creditors olan Es sate must be published for forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Ne groes must be published in a public gazette in this Siate for four months, before any order absolute •can be given by the Court. jJ'CiTATioss for Letters of Administration on an Estate, granted by the Court of Ordinary, must published thirty days— for Letters of Dismis sion from the administration ofan Estate, monthly for six months —for Dismission from Guardian ship forty days. ijj-Rules for the foreclosure of a Mortgage, must be published monthly for four months — for establishing lost. Papers, for the full space of cnREB months — for compelling Titles from Ex ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond hasbecn given by the deceased, the full space of THREE MONTHS. N. 11. All Business of this kind shall receiv proinptattentionat the SOUTHERN MUSEUM Office, and strict care will he taken that all legal Advertisements are published according to Law. lUTAII I .otters directed to this Office or the Editor on business, must be post-paid, to in jure attention. FT “A LITTLE ROUE GRAPE.” rrtKE undersigned, true to Ins promise, again IL presents to the Public more data on which thev can safely base their calculations relative to the respective merits of the depleting system of llie disciples of Esculapius, and of that invig orating and plilogestic one of which lie is proud to be the advocate. Leaving the stilts of egotism and shafts of rid icule for the use of those who have nothing bet ter to stand on, and no other weapons for attack <or defence, he selects his standing on truth, and uses such support only as merit gives him ; and fur weapons, he chooses simply to assail the ranks of the enemy occasionally with “a little more grape,’’ in the form of facts,which are evi dently the hardest kind of arguments since they often ad minister to Ins quiet amusement by the terrible destruction they cause among the stilts and tbs ludicrous effect they produce in causing certain individuals to laugh, as it is expressed in homely phrase, “on t’other side the mouth.” The Mexicans arc not the only people, these days, whom vanity has blinded to their own de fects ; neither can they claim much superiority in the way of fancied eminence and blustering bravado over lr.aoy tlmt live a great deal nearer home. A salutary lesson has latterly been giv |on the former by the Americans, and the hitter I may ere long take “ another ofthe same ” u la I'mode de Taylor. I After the following there will still be “a few I mere left.” Georgit, Jones County, 1818. [ This certifies that for more than four or five I years my wife was afHictcd with a disease pecu | liar to her sex, and notwithstanding all that we I' ould do, she still continued to get worse. The I Physicians in attendance had exhausted their ski!! without rendering heir any assistance tiii, in 1314, when she was confined to her bed in a very low condition, 1 got her last attendant to go itvilh me to Macon and lay her case before Dr. I M. 8. Thomson, who, without having seen her, I proscribed and sent her medicine that soon re- I licved her, and in the course of a short time re- I storeddier to permanent health. She has now Iheeii well about lour years and rejoices in the ■ recovery of her long lost health FRANCIS B. HASCAL. Macon. Juno 22d, 1848. Dk. M. S. Thomson —Dear Sir: —Deeming it 71 <lut; l owe to yourself as well as to the afflicted generally, I have concluded to give you a short statement of my case, which you are at liberty to publish if you think that the best mode of thereby subserving the interests of suffering humanity. In May 1841, after considerable exposure to cold, 1 was attacked with Asthma, which pros trated toe very much, and notwithstanding all (bat could he done to prevent it, it continued to return about every two weeks till in 1846, I ap plied to you. Between these attacks I had a very severe cough, which led some of the physicians t to whom I applied to believe that I had consump i,lon - I applied to physicians of both the Min eral and Botanic schools, of eminent general qualifications, but all to no benefit, for 1 contin ued to get worse,so much so that I had reduce*’ troni being a strong, fleshy man, down to a mere skeleton and could hardly creep about.—When I applied to you, I had hut little faitli in being cured, though I had witnessed some wonderful ■results following your treatment, especially the cure of that crazy woman you bought of Aquil .* l’helps, in Jasper, yet they gave ine confi dence »ud by persevering in the use of your remedies, and ns it were hoping against hope, 1 1,11 ."'"e' l gratified in being able to announce ’ 1,1 .. | HVC got entirely well, for l have bad but one iglit attack in twenty months, and that was V mi)ru ' ls ugo. I have now regained about f an< l feel as strong as almost l,in ° buy-one, which is my age. Without thaHo'” emei c l l 0 l ' ,e Giaracterof the other cures ■ i j‘ l ) e so uuquently resulted from your prac ii,i ’ r 0 not think that any of them can beat ■C’omjii# ol Ron *'rnied Asthma combined with a ■niswvT i M | Col, specially where the flesh B u rtiubh' s ’ aas long been classed among the iu- Most respectfully,yours, 11. LIGIJTFOOT. lie casel' l /' rrS '^ nnt * s, ‘*l continues to treat Cliro- Blic city I, "'V distance at his office,or either of Bhroiieh " J * r uiugr houses, and at a distance ■whodent or by private hand. Those Bit five doll"' , ’^ Ulre P ersnna l attention, are treated ■isual mo j P er month, those who do, at the B a y must ev"! <1 ratos ' Those who arc able to ■"ir terms *’ e ? t ,0 t *° so, without variation from Bliosr who’.."" CSS n s, ‘ nct bargain is made, I Alters .../‘V!'"’ will 1,0 treated gratuitously. UMf be part-paid, and addressed I fch;j M S.THOMSON, M. D. Macon, (jq. THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM. VOLIJIE I. V o r t r 1?. ILU The present seems to be a fruitful age for the production of verses and rhymes, but a great proportion of them are trash, destined to live an hour, and then pass into oblivion. Amid this profusion of worthless things, however, we oc casionally find a jewel. Such is the piece be low, which originally appeared in the Vermont Telegraph, a few years ago. It breathes the purest sentiments, clothed in beautiful language, and does honor alike to the head and heart of the writer.— Ed. Southern Museum. THE MISSIONARY. My soul is not at rest. There comes a strange And secret whisper to my spirit, like A dream of night, that tells me I am on Enchanted ground. Why live I here ? The vows Os God are on me, and I may not stop To play with shadws or pluck earthly flowers Till I my work have done, and rendered up Account. The voice of my departed Lord, “ Go teach all A'atiuns," from the Eastern world Comes on the night air, and awakes my ear. And I will go ! I may not longer doubt To give up friends, and home, and idol hopes, And every other tender lie that binds my heart ;T° tliee, my country ! Why should I regard ! Earth’s little store of borrowed sweets ? I sure ; Have had enough of bitter in my cup To show that never was it His design, Who placed me here, that I should live in ease Or drink atplcasure’s fountain. llcnceforth,then It matters not, if storm or sunshine be My earthly lot—bitter or sweet my cup ; I only pray, God fit me for the work, God make me holy, and my spirit nerve For the stern hour of strife. Let me but know There is an arm unseen that holds me up, An eye that kindly watches all my path, Till I my weary pilgrimage have done, — Let me but know I have a friend that waits To welcome me to glory, and I joy To tread the dark and death-fraught wilderness. And when I come to stretch me for the last, In unattended agony, beneath The cocoa’s shade, or lift my ‘lying eyes From Afric’s burning sand, it will bo sweet That I have toiled for other world’s than this ; I know I shall feel happier than to die On softer bed. And if I should reach Heaven, If one that hath so deeply, darkly sinned, If one whom ruin and revolt have held With such a fearful grasp, if one for whom Satan hath struggled as he hath for me, Should ever reach that blessed shore, O how This heart will flame with gratitude and love ! And through the ages of eternal years, Thus saved, my spirit never shall repent That toil and suffering once were mine below. THE BRIDAL, EVE. A Legend of tlxe Revolution. BY GEORGE LIPrARD. One summer night, the blaze of many lights streaming from the windows of an old mansion perched yonder among the rocks and woods, flashed far over the dark waters of Lake Champlain. In a quiet and comfortable chamber of that mansion, a party of British officers, sitting around a table spread with wines and viands, discussed a topic of some in terest, if it was not the most important in the world, while the tread of the dancers shook the floor of the adjoining room. Yes, while all was gaiety and dance and music in the largest hall of the old mansion, whose hundred lights gleamed far over the waters of Champlain—herein this quiet room, with the cool evening breeze blowing in their faces through the open windows ; here this party of British officers had assembled to discuss their wines and tlieir favorite topic. That todic was—the comparative beau ty of the women of the world. “As for me,” said a handsome young Ensign, “I will match the voluptuous forms and dark eyes of Italy, against the beauties of the world !” “Anil I,” said a bronzed old veteran, who had risen to the Colonelcy by his long service and hard fighting; “and I have a pretty lass of a daughter there in England, whose blue eyes and flaxen hair would shame your tragic beauties of Italy into very ugliness.” “1 have served in India, as you all must know,” said the Major, who sat next to the veteran, “and I never saw painting or statue, much less living woman, half so lovely as some of those Hindoo maidens, bending down with water lillies in their hands; bending down by the light of torches over the dark waves of the Ganges.” And thus one after another, they gave their opinions, until that young American Refugee, yonder at the foot of the table is left to decide the argument. That Amer ican—for 1 blush to say it—handsome young fellow as he is, with a face full of manly beauty, deep blue eyes, ruddy cheeks, and glossy blown hair, that Amer ican is a Refugee, and a Captain in the British army. He wore the hatnlsome WACOW, (GA.) SATUBDAIf MOUMHG, JUNE *, 1849. scarlet coat, the glittering epaulette, lace ruffles on his bosom and around his wrists. “Come, Captain, pass the wine this way !” shouted the Ensign ; pass the wine and decide this great question ! Which are the most beautiful : the red cheeks of Merry England, the dark eyes of Italy, or the graceful forms of Hindoosfan ]” The Captain hesitated for a moment, and then tossing off a bumper of old Ma deira, somewhat flushed as he was with wine, replied: “Mould your three models of beauty, your English lass, your Italian queen, your Hindoo nymph, into one, and add to their charms a thousand graces of color and form and feature, and I would not compare this perfection of loveliness for a single moment, with the wild and artless beauty of —an American girl!” The laugh of the three officers, for a moment, drowned the echo of the dance in the next room. “Compare his American milk-maid with the woman of Italy !” “Or the lass of England !” “Or the graceful Hindoo girl!” This laughing scorn of the British offi cers, stung the handsome Refugee to the quick. “Hark ye,” he cried, half rising from his seat, with a flushed brow, hut a deep and deliberate voice: “To-morrow, 1 marry a wife :an American girl! To night, at midnight, too, that American girl will join the dance in the next room, you shall see her—you shall judge your selves ! whether the American woman is not the most beautiful in the world V* There was something in the manner of the young Refugee, more than in the na ture of his information, that arrested the attention of his brother officers. For a moment they were silent. “We have heard somethiug of your marriage, Captain,” said the gay Ensign, “but we did not think it would occur so suddenly I Only think of it! To-morrow you will be gone—settled—verdict bro’t in—sentence passed —a married man ! But tell me ! How will your lady-love be brought to this house to-night 1 I thought she resided within the rebel lines'?” “She does reside there ! But 1 have sent a messenger—a friendly Indian chief on whom I can place the utmost depend ence— to biing her from her present home at the dead of night through the forest, to this mansion. He is to return by twelve; it is now half-past eleven !” “Friendly Indian !” echoed the veteran colonel; “rather an odd guardian for a pretty woman—Quite an original idea of a Duenna. I vow !” “And you will match this lady with all the world for beauy 1” said the Major. “Yes, and if you do not agree with me, these hundred guineas which I lay upon the table, shall serve our mess, for wines, for a month to come ! But if you do agree with me—as without doubt you will— then you are to replace this gold with a hundred guineas of your own.” “Agreed ! It is a wager !” chorussed the Colonel and the two other officers. And in that moment —while the door way was thronged by fair ladies and gay officers, attracted from tbe next room by the debate—as the Refugee stood with otic hand resting upon the little pile of gold, his ruddy face grew suddenly pale as a shroud, his blue eyes dilated, until they were encircled by a line of white en amel, he remained standing there, as if frozen to stone. “Why, captain, what’s the matter'?” cried the Colonel, starting up in alarm, do you see a ghost, that you stand gazing there, at the blank wall ?” The other officers also started up in alarm, and also asked the cause of this sin gular demeanor, but still, for the space of a minute or more, the Refugee Captain stood there, more like a dead man sud denly recalled to life, than a living being- That moment passed, he sat down with a cold shiver ; made a strong effort as if to command his reason ; and then gave ut terance to a forced laugh. “Ha ! ha! See how I’ve frightened you !” he said —and then laughed that cold, unnatural laugh again. And yet, half an hour from that time, he freely confessed the nature of the horrid pic ture which he had sicu drawn upon that black wainseotted trail, as if by some su pernatural hand. But now, with the wine-cup in his hand, he turned from one comrade to another, uttering some forced jest, or looking to wards the dooiway crowded by officers and ladies, he gaily invited them to share in this remarkable argument: Which were the most beautiful women in the world ] As he spoke the hour struck. Twelve o’clock was there, and with it a footstep, and then a bold Indian form came urging through the crowd of ladies, thronging yonder doorway. Silently, his arms folded on his war blanket, a look of calm stoicism on bis dusky brow tbe Indian advanced along the room, and stood at the head of the table. There was no lady with him ! Where is the fair girl ? She who is to be the Bride to-morrow ? Perhaps the Indian has lefr her in the next room, or perhaps—but the thought is a foolish one —she has refused to obey her lover’s re quest—refused to meet him ! There was something awful in the deep silence that reigned throughout the room, as the solitary Indian stood there, at the head of the table gazing silently into the lover’s face. “ Where is she V' at last gasped the Re fugee. “She has not refused to come ? Tell me—has any accident befallen her by the way ? I know the forest is dark, and the wild path most difficult—tell me ; where is the lady for whom I sent you in to the rebel lines ?” For a moment, as the strange horror of that lover’s face was before him, the In dian was silent. Then ashisanswerseem ed trembling on his lips, the ladies in yon der doorway, the officers from the ball room, and the party round the tab'e, form ed a group around the two central figures —tbe Indian standing at the head of the table, his arms folded in his war-blanket —that young officer half rising from his seat, his lips parted, his face ashy, his clenched hand resting on the dark mahog any of the table. The Indian answered first by an action, then by a word. First the action : Slowly drawing his right hand from his war-blanket, he held it in the light. That right hand clutched with blood-stained fingers, a bleeding scalp, and long and glossy locks of beau tiful dark hair! Then the word : “Young warrior sent the red man for the scalp ofthe pale faced squaw ! Here it is !” Yes—the rude savage had mistaken his message ! Instead of bringing the bride to her lover’s arms, he had gone on his way, determined to bring the scalp of the victim to the grasp of her paleface enemy. Not even a groan disturbed the silence of that dreadful moment. Look there ! The lover rises, presses that long hair—so black, so glossy, so beautiful—to his heart, and then—as though a huge weight, fail ing on his brain, had crushed him, fell with one dead s mnd on the hard floor. He lay there—stiff, and pale, and cold; his clenched right hand still clutching the bloody scalp, and the long dark hair fall ing in glossy tresses over the floor! This was the bridal eve ! Now tell me, my friends, you who have heard some ignorant pretender, pitifully complain of the destitution of Legend, Po etry, Romance, which characterizes our National History—tell me, did you ever read a tradition of England, or France, or Italy, ot Spain, or any land under heav ens, that might, in point of awful tragedy, compare with the simple History of David Jones and Jane McCrea ? For it is but a scene from this narrative, with which you have all beenfamiliar from childhood, that I have given you. When the bridegroom, flung there on the floor, with the bloody scalp and long dark tresses in his hands, arose again to the terrible consciousness of life—these words trembled from his lips in a faint and husky whisper : “Do you remember bow, half an hour ago—l stood there—by the table—silent and pale, and horror-stricken—while you all started up around me, askiug me what horrid sight I saw ? Then oh then, I be held the horrid scene—that home yonder by the Hudson river, mounting to Heaven in the smoke and flames ! The red forms of Indians going to and fro, amid the flame and smoke—tomahawk and torch in hand! There, amid the dead bodies, red smo king embers, I behold her form—my bride—for whom I had sent the messen ger— kneeling, pleading for mercy, even sa the tomahawk crashed into her brain!” As the horrid picture again came o’er his mind he sank senseless again, still clutching that terrible memorial—the bloody scalp and long black hair ! That was an awful Brijml Evb ! NUIVBEK 27. A SAD DISAPPOINTMENT. A Thrilling Scene. —l passed up the natural avenue and came upon the green. My feelings were very poetical as I walk ed towards the village church. I entered. A popular preacher was holding forth, and the little meeting house was filled to overflowing. Several persons were stand ing up, and I soon discovered that 1 must retain my perpendicular position, as eve ry seat was crowded. I, however passed up the aisle, until I gained a position wheie I could have a fair view of nearly all present. Many of the congregation looked curiously at me, for I was a stran ger to them all. In a few moments, how ever, the attention of every one seemed to be absorbed in the ambassador of grace* and I also began to take an interest in the discourse. The speaker was fluent and many of his flights were even sublime.— The music of tho woods, and the fragrance of the heath seemed to respond to his elo quence. Then it was no great stretch of the ima gination to fancy that the white handed creatures arouud me, with their pouting lips and artless innocence, were beings of a higher sphere. As my feelings were thus divided between the beauties of the two worlds, and wrapped in a sort of po etical devotion, I detected some glances at me of an animated character. I need not describe the sensations expe rienced by a youth, when the eyes of a pret ty young woman rest upon him for a length of time, and when he imagines himself to be an object of interest to her. I return ed her glances with interest, and threw all the tenderness into my eyes which the scene, my meditations and the preacher’s discourse, had inspired in my heart— doubting not that the fair damsel possess ed kindred feelings at the fountain of in spiration. How could it be otherwise ? She had been born and nurtured amidst these wild romantic scenes, and was full of romance, of poetry, of tenderness; and then I thought of the purity of woman’s love—her devotion—her truth ; I only prayed that I might meet with her where we might enjoy a sweet interchange of sentiment. Her glances continued. Sev eral times our eyes met. My heart beat with rapture. At length the benediction was pronounced. I lingered about the premises until I saw the dark-eyed dam. sel set our for home, alone and on foot.— Oh ! that the customs of society would permit—for we are surely one in soul.— Cruel formality ! that throws up a barrier between each other ! Yet I followed her. She looked behind, and I thought evinced some emotion at recognizing me as the stranger of the day. I then quickened my pace, and she actually slackened hers, as if to let me come up with her. “Noble young creature !” thought I; “her artless and warm heart is superior to the bonds of custom !” I reached within a stone’s throw of her. She suddenly halted and turned her face towards me. My heart swelled to burst' ing. I reached the spot where she stood. She began to speak, and I took off my hat as if doing reverence to an angel. “Are you a pedlar ?” “No, my dear girl, that is not my occu pation.” “Well, I don’t know,” continued she, not very bashfully, and eyeing me quite sternly : “I thought when I saw you in the meeting house, that you looked like the pedlar who passed off a pewter half dollar three weeks ago, so I was determin ed to keep an eye upon you. Brother John has got home now, and he says ifhe catches the fellow he’ll wring hia neck for him ; and I ain’t sure but you’re the good for-nothing rascal after all!” Reader, did you ever take the shower bath 1 The Uw of Newspapers. 1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary,are considered as wishing tocon tinue their subscriptions. 2. If the subscribers order tho discontinua tion of their papers, the publishers may continue to send them till all casil charges are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse take their papers from the offices to which they are directed they are held responsible till they have settled their bill, and order their paper discontinued. 4 If subscribers remove to other places with out informing the publishers, and the paper is sent to the former direction, they arc held re sponsible. 5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take a paper, or periodical from the office, or re moving and leaving it uncalled for, is “ prim* falie evidence of intentional fraud. Postmaster are requested to keep a copy of the a rules, and show it to persons who may de cline taking their papers out of the respective offices, without having paid up all arrearages for the same. BOOK AND JOB PRINTING, Will be executed in the most approved rtyl e and on the best terms, at the Office ofthe 3CTTHERIT MTJSETTM, —BY— WM. B. HARRISON. A Royal Romance. —At the grand and brilliant ball given by Prince Swartzen berg, the Austrian ambassador at Paris, in the year 1810, in celebration of tbe marriage of Napoleon with Maria Louisa, at which the Emperor and many illustri ous persons were present, it is well known that a most destructive fire broke out in one of the temporary buildings erected for the occasion, by which the young and beautifel hostess and several other persons were burnt to death, and many seriously injured. One of the visitors at this ball was the then dowager Duchess of Savoy- Carignan, mother of Charles Albert, ex- King of Sardinia. This lady, prevented by the great confusion from getting out in time, found herself in one of the saloons burning on all sides. When in this most perilous situation, and almost saffocated, she was accidentally discovered by her courier, who resolutely rushed through the flames into the room, took his mistress in his arms, and jumped from a window on the first floor to the ground. By this heroic conduct he broke both his legs, but the Duchess was unhurt. Her life having been thus miraculously saved through the courage of her courier, she, of course, paid him all possible care and attention during his illness ; and when lie had re covered from this accident she married him. He received afterwards from some Italian Princo the title of Count Montelart; and ever since they have been living to gether, but not very happily, in various parts of the continent, and are now in Paris. Decidedly Rich.— One ofthe parvenu ladie* of our village but would-be wonderfully aristoc ratic in all domestic matters, was visiting a few days since, at Major G (all know the old Major) when, after tea, the following conver sation occurred between tho Major’s excellent old-fashioned lady and the “top-not,” in conse quence ofthe hired girl occupying a scat at tho tea tabic. Mrs. . Why Mr. G. , yon do not allow your hired girl to cat with you at the ta. ble ? It’s horrible * Mrs. G. Most certainly I do. You know this lias ever been my practice. It was so when you worked for me—don't you recollect ?. This was a “cooler” to silk and satin great ness ; or, as the boys call it, “Codfish aristoc racy.” And after coloring and stammering she answered in a very low voice, “ Y-e-s, I b-e- I i-e-v-e it w-a-s,” and sloped. What a cutting and withering rebuke. And how admirably it applies to very many persons in this village. When will the world learn that poverty is not the evidence of meanness and degradation ; nor silks and satins the sure evidence ofa true and noble woman. But hypocrisy, self-conceit, a disposition to oppress and dagrade those under us, are unquestionable indices to low, and uned ucated and uncultivated minds. Misfortune and poverty may overtake us all. It many ba our preseut companions. Tbe mind, however, educated, refined and ennobled by reading and. reflection, is is the sure and only foundatiou for respect and true greatness. And when it is at tempted othcrewisc, the “ears” will unavoidab to protrude in spite of the “Lion’s skin.’’—Detroit Adv. That’s llis Own.—The Rev. Dr is what is commonly denominated “a celebrated preacher.’’ 11 is reputation, however, has not been acquired by his drawing largely upon his own stores of knowledge and eloquence, but by the skill with which he appropriates the thoughts and langtiaage of the great divines who havo gone before him. Fortunately for him, those who compose a fashionable audience are not deeply read in the pulpit lore, and accordingly, with such hearers, he passes for a wonder of erudition and pathos. It did, nevertheless, hap pen that the doctor was once detected in his plagiarisms. One Sunday as he was beginning to delight the sprightly beaux and belles belong ing to his congregation, a grave old gentleman seated himself close to the pulpit, and listened with profound attention. The doctor had scarce ly finished iiis third sentence, before the grave old gentleman muttered, loud enough to be heard by those near him, “ That’s Sherlock !’’ The doctor frowned, but went or. 11c had not pro ceeded much further, when his tormenting inter rupter broke out with “That’s Tillotson !*’ The doctor bit his lips, and paused, but again thought it better to pursue the thread of Ilia dis cource. A third exclamation of “That’s Blair’s,’* was,however, too much, and completely exhaus ted all his patience. Leaning ever the pulpit, “J ellow,’’ be cried, “if you do not hold your tongue, you shall be turned out.” Without al tering a muscle of his countenance, the grave old gentleman tilled up hit head, and looking the doctor in the face, retorted, “That’s liis own.’* “You are from the country, are you not, air?’* said a dandy clerk in a bookstore to a homely dressed Quaker, who had given him some trou ble. “Yes.” “Well, here’s an essay on the rearing of calves.’’ “That,” said Aminid&b, as be turned to leave the store, “thee had better present thy motlier.” Why is a kiss like a rumor ? Because it goes from mouth to mouth.