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€\)t port's Cimirr,
“AH lliy works praise Thee.”
BY MiIRY HOVVITT.
The moonbeams on the billowy deep,
The blue waves rippling on the strand,
The ocean in its peaceful sleep,
The shell that murmurs on the sand,
The cloud that dims the bending sky,
The bow that on its bosom glows,
The sun that lights the vault on high,
The stars at midnight’s calm repose;
These praise the power that arehed the sky,
And robed the earth in beauty's dye.
The melody of Nature’s choir,
The deep toned anthems of the sea,
The wind that turns a viewless lyre,
The zephyr on its pinions free,
Tlve thunder with its thrilling notes,
The peal upon the mountain air,
The lay that through the foliage floats,
Or sinks in dying cadence there;
These all to Thee their voices raise,
A fervent voice of gushing praise.
The day star, herald of the dawn,
As the dark shadows flit away,
The tint upon the cheek of morn,
The dew-drop gleaming on the spray,
From wild birds in their wanderings,
From streamlets leaping to the sea,
From all earth’s fair and lovely things,
Doth living praise ascend to Thee ;
These with their silent tongue proclaim,
The varied wonders of Thy name.
Father, Thy hand hath formed the flower,
And flung it on the verdant lea,
Thou badst it ope at summer’s hour,
Its hues of beauty speak of Thee.
Thy works all praise Thee, shall nut man
Alike attune tlu graceful hymn ?
Shall he not join the lofty strain,
Echoed from heart of seraphim ?
W e tune to Thee our humble lays,
Thy mercy, goodness, love, we praise.
The Massachusetts’ Charitable Mechanic Associa
tion, held their Triennial celebration at the Hall of the Low
ell Institute, Boston, on the 19th instant, when John 11.
Skinner Esq., the eminent Agriculturist, delivered an appro
priate address, and the following “Song of Labor,” from
the facile pen of Mr. Epos Sargent, tlie Editor of the Boston
Transcript, was sung.
The camp has had its day of song •
The sword, the bayonet, the plume
Have crowded out of rhyme too long
The plough, the anvil, and the loom!
O, not upon our tented fields
Are Freedom’s heroes bred alone ;
The training of the work-shop yields
More heroes true than War has known!
Who drives the bolt, who shapes the steed,
May, with a heart as valiant, smite,
As he, who sees a foeman reel
In blood before his blow of might!
The skill that conquers space and time,
That graces life, that lightens toil,
May spring from courage more sublime
Than that which makes a realm its spoil.
Let Labor, then, look up and see,
His craft no pith of honor lacks;
The soldier's rifle yet shall be
Less honored than the woodman’s axe !
Let Art his own appointment prize,
Nor deem that gold or outward height
Can compensate the worth that lies
In tastes that breed their own delight.
And may the time draw nearer still
When men this sacred truth shall heed,
That from the thought and from the will
Must all that raises man proceed ?
Though Pride should hold our calling low,
For us shall Daty make it good ‘ T
And we from truth to truth shall go
Till life and death are understood.
Friendship, or Lore, or Both.
If I speak to thee in Friendship's name,
Thou’lt say I speak too eohlly ;
If I mention Love's devoted flame,
Thou’lt say I speak too boldly;
Between these two unequal fkes,
Why doom me thus to hover ;
Pin a friend , if such thy heart requires,
If more thou necd’st—a lover ;
Which shall it be—how shall I woo*
Dearest choose between the two-.
Though the wings of Love will lightly play,
When first he comes to woo thee ;
There’s a chance that he may fly away,
As fast as he flies to thee ;
While Friendship, though ou foot she comes,
No flight of fancy trying,
Will therefore oft be found at home,
While Love abroad is flying!
Which; si-/all it be—how sliatl I wool
Dearest choose between the two.
But if neither feeling suits thy heart,
Let’s see to please thee, —whether
I may not find some precious art,
To blend their charms together j
One feeling still more sweet to form-,
From two so dear and ready,
A Friendship that like Love is warm,
A Loie like Friendship , steady 1
Thus shah it be, thus shall I woo,
Dearest, thus we’ll join the two!
Herdsman’s Sons,
Known as tht Echo Song.
SUNG BY MD’LLE JENNY LIND.
Come hither, come hither, my pretty herd,
Iluah, huah, huah, huah, huah
Come ox and cow and weanling brood,
And hasten to taste of the morning food.
For night with her shade keeps darkening on,
Ring shrill horn on the mountain round,
And follow my cattle the welcome sound,
Huah, huah, huah, to grateful abundance my flock
speed ye.
Long beside where heart-fires burn,
My love has waited my return.
Soon I clasp the treasure,
In an ecstasy of pleasure.
Paradis’d upon her arm,
No Caro can grieve, no ill can harm.
Village Poetry.—The following is part of a
Tsalm sung in Osmotherly church, above a century
ago. It was composed by the parish clerk, on the
occasion of the murrain, a severe distemper that ra
ged among the horned cattle in the year 1747. It
was sung and ehorussed by the whole congregation
in the church. The first four stanzas contained an
account of the qpttle that died, and the names of the
farmers to whom they belonged; the remaining
verses were as follows: —
No Christian’s bull, no cow they say,
But takes it out of hand;
And we shall have no cows at all
I doubt, within this land.
The doctors, though they all have spoke
Like learned gentlemen,
And told us how the entrails look
Os cattle dead and green.
Yet they do nothing do at all,
With all their learning’s store;
So Heaven drive out this plague away,
Ami vex us not no more.
This piece was so well received, that after the ser
vice it was desired again by all the congregation, ex
cept five, who wept, declaring that the lines were
too moving. The minister, in going out, said to the
elerk, “ Why, John, what Psalm was that we had
to-day, it was not one of David’s ? “ No, no,” quoth
John, (big with the honor he had acquired,) “David
never made such a psalm since he was born—this is
one of my own.” — Jlodyson's History of Allerton
skira and Uirdforth.
jSisitliflntj.
Who is She.
BY ELLEN ASHTON.
“ Mary Murray, you say—and pray, who is she?”
These words were addressed by one young lady to anoth
er, in reference to an acquaintance to whom one of them
had just bowed.
‘ Who ? The daughter of Widow Murray—a dear, sweet,
amiable girl as ever lived, is Mary, too; you ought to know
her.’
‘ I'd rather not,’ said the first speaker, with a toss of the
head. ‘The daughter of Widow Murray, who keeps a pet
ty thread and needle store. Why, the next thing will be to
associate with one’s kitchen maid.’
‘But in this country, Emma, it is merit that makes the
rank.’ replied the other. ‘ Here, you know, we have no aris
tocracy. Mary Murray is more beautiful, moro accomplish
ed, and more amiable, too, than half my schoolmates.’
‘ Well, I can tell you one thing: If you keep up your ac
quaintance with her, you’ll be cut by all gentoed people, Do
you think that the Livingstons, Harrisons and Lawrences
will come to your parties, if they are to meet shop girls
there ?’
‘ They can do as they please,’ replied Kate Villicrs, with
spirit. 1 But one thing is certain: I shall not give Mary up
for them, as I like her for herself, and not her ancestors.
Besides, for all I know, she may be as well born as they are.
I never thought to inquire.
Just at this moment a handsome youngjnan, riding a beau
tiful horse, passed, and'made a bow to the young ladies. The
first speaker was all blushes, at this public notice, from one
of the richest and most fashionable young men in the city.
* Dear me,’ said she’ ‘ how glad I am he did not see yon
speak to that Miss Murray! He never would have noticed
either us again.’
Kate Villicrs curled her pretty lip in scorn as she replied:
‘ Frank Hastings is too sensible to be allected by such a
thing, I fancy. But, if lie is not, he is only the more to be
pitied.’ And, wanning with natural indignation, she con
tinued : ‘lt vexes me beyond patience to see people, in this
country, talking of the gentility of their families, when, out
of a hundred, there is scarcely one that is not descended, and
at no great distance, from some honest mechanic or respecta
ble farmer. Take our richest families ; a century ago they
were poor, while the foal old gentry of that day, are now,
generally beggared. Who was Astor ? A poor German lad.
Who was Girard ! A French cabin boy. What was Abbot
Lawrence? A Yankee wood-chopper. So, too, our great
statesmen, Clay, A\ ebster and Benton, all rose from nothing.
We ought to ask, not what a person’s ancestors were, but
what they are themselves.’
A tew days after, as Kate and her acquaintance were walk
ing together, they meet Miss Murray, who, unconscious of
offence, stopped to converse with Kate. Emma was evident
ly uneasy, the more as her keen eye detected Frank Hastings
promenading down the street towards them. Politeness kept
her stationary for a moment; but as ho drew near her, the
disgrace of being seen with the daughter of a ‘thread and
needle woman,’ as Emma called Mrs. Murray, proved too
strong for her courtesy, and she abruptly broke away and
went into a store, pretending a wish to purchase some rib
bon.
Frank Hastings, meantime, came sauntering idly down
the street; and only perceived Kate when close upon her.
‘ Good morning, he said bowing, his eye attracted by Miss
Murray’s pleasing face. ‘ Will you Hike pity on an idler,
Miss\ fibers, and allow me to accompany you in your walk ?’
Kate was already engaged to a friend of Frank’s, and an
swered frankly, for she - and Hastings"were almost as intimate
as a brother and sister.
‘ I shall be pleased if you will; only you must be very a
greeable, for my friend and l are used to having sense talked
to us; and if you don’t acquit yourself creditably, we shall
black ball you, as you say at the club, the next time you ask
permission to walk with us.
Frank, however, needed no incentive to induce him to talk
his best; for the sweet countenance of Mary, in which every
emotion of the heart was reflected, was inspiration enough.
They stopped, at last, at Mrs. Murray’s little store. Frank
looked with surprise, at the humble appearance of the dwell
ing ; but this did not prevent his bow to M ary being deeply
respectful, as lie walked off with her friend.
‘ And that charming girl,’ he said, ‘assists to support her
mother by standing behind the counter ? Kate, I was half
in love with her before, and am now entirely so ! A wife,
such as she would make, is worth having, because she is wortli
a dozen of the foolish votaries of fssliion—gilded conceited
butter-flies, like your friend Emma. You must take me to
Mrs. Murray’s some evening, and introduce me regularly.’
Kate had known Frank too well to suppose he would des
pise Mary, because her mother had been reduced to compara
tive poverty; but she had not dreamed for an instant of his
falling in love with her. But now, as she hastily thought over
the good qualities of each, she clasped her hands and cried :
‘ That I will, for you arc just suited for each other. We
will go to-morrow night. And again and again Frank went;
and, after the first two interviews, always without Kate. lie
was noble-hearted, intellectual, graceful and refined, and
Mary could not long resist the devoted suit lie paid to her.
Indeed, after some maidenly struggles with her heart, she
yielded herself to loving him with all the depth of her pure
yet honest nature.
Frank was too sensible to regard the mere accessories of
fortune. Perhaps, indeed, lie loved Mary the better for her pov
erty. He could never have entertained an affection for her,
if she had not been amiablo and intelligent; nor, perhaps,
even if her parents had been unworthy ; but all things else
considered comparatively indifferent. Himself accustom
ed, from his earliest years, to fashionable society, he knew its
exact value, and lie was accustomed to say that worth, not
wealth, was what he sought in a wife.
Mary, ou her part, loved Frank for his candor, intelligence,
and generous qualities, and not for his fortune. ‘ I would
rather remain single,’ said she, ‘ than marry for wealth.’
About three months after the day on which our story
opens, Kate Villicrs called on her old school-mate Emma.
‘ Who do you think is a going to be married ?’ she said.—
‘You will give it up? Well, Frank Hastings and Mary
Murray.’
‘ What!’ exclaimed Emma, pale with mortification, for she
had herself assiduously sought Frank's notice— ‘ Not Frank
Hastings and that thread and needle woman’s daughter?’
‘ Yes, and a happy couple they will make. Mary will now
have the wealth she is so well fitted to adorn.’
‘ I shan’t visit her,’ said Emma pettishly. ‘ She's nobody.
If Mr. Hastings chooses to disgrace himself, let him; but he'll
find out the old families’ wont recognise his acquaintance.’
‘ Pshaw 1’ said Kate contemptuously. ‘ You know better ;
Mr. Hastings is, himself, a member of 011 c of the few ‘ oldest
families’ we have; and, being such, is above all the ridicu
lous notions of mere parvenue. It happens, too, that Mary
has ‘good blood,’ as you Would call it. She is the grand
daughter of a signer of the Declaration, an American patent
of nobility, I take it, if we have any at all.’
* Then, it is on that account he marries her,’ was the
splenetic reply.
‘ No, he never knew it till he asked her to have him. Her
virtues and accomplishments won his heart, and they alone.’
In due time Frank and Mary were married, Kate being
led to the altar on the same day. Emma has learned a les
son, and, since then, inquires less superciliously about anew
acquaintance.
. Directions for Purifying Yeast.-—The yeast
is merely well stirred up with plenty of fresh water,
and then left undisturbed for twelve hours or more,
when it will bo found in a solid mass, if the water be
poured gently fiom it, and the quantity of it taken
for use cau then be ascertained with much more cer
tainty than when it is ia the liquid state, in which it
is usually brought in lroin the brewery.
fa s ©s©a ©1 & 53? lisif 9
The Village Lawyer.
M. Pierre Lavalles, owner of the vineyard, neara certain
village in tiie South of France, wooed and weddtd Mdllc.
Julie Goucliard. He lived in a pretty house, and ivhen he
took his young wife home, he showed her great stoics of ex
cellent things, calculated well for the comfortable sibsistenee
of a youthful and worthy couple.
It was seven months after the marriage of M. Berre La
valles, M. Antoine Perron, the village lawyer, sat it his little
parlor, aud gazed with a glad eye upon the cheerful fire, for
the short winter was just terminating. Leaning forward in
his chair, he shaded his face with his hands, and steadily pe
rused the figures among the coals with a most pleasant coun
tenance. The room was small, neat and comfortable, for the
notary prospered in his humble way, snd seeking only com
fort, fonnd it, and was content.
Suddenly a violent knocking at the door aroused him from
his revery, and he heard his old servant rushing to open it.
In a moment, two persons were ushered into the room, and
the notary leaped to his feet in astonishment at the extraor
dinary 6cene before him. Had a thunder-bolt cloven the
roof, and passed through his hearth to its grave in the centre
of the globe, or had the trees that nodded their naked branch
es without the window commenced a danco upon the snowy
ground, he had not been more surprised.
Monsieur Lavalles and Madame Lavalles stood just iuside
the door-way. Never had M. Perron seen them before as
he saw them now. Like turtle-doves, with smiling eyes and
affectionate caress, they had lived in happy harmony during
the seven months of their married life, and motherly dames,
when they gave their daughters away, bade them prosper
and be pleasant in their union, as they had been joyous in
their love, pleasant and joyous as neighbor Lavalles and his
wife.
Now, Pierre stood red and angry, with his right arm ex
ended, gesticulating toward his wife. Julie stood, red and
angry, with her left arm extended, gesticulating toward her
husband. Eyes, that had only radiated smiles, flashed with
fierce passion, as the turtle-doves remained near the door,
each endeavoring to anticipate the other in some address to
the worthy notary.
Then the lady having emphatically declared herself, re
signed the right of speech to her husband, who began to jerk
out, in disconnected phrases, a statement of his case. Seven
days ago he had annoyed his wife by some incautious word;
she had annoyed him by au incautious answer; he had made
matters worse by an aggravating retort; and she had widen
ed the breach by a bitter reply, This little squall was suc
ceeded by a cool calm, and that by a sullen silence, until
some sudden friction kindled anew flame, and finally, after
successive storms and lulls, there burst forth a furious con
flagration, and in the violent collision of tlicir anger, the ‘sev
en-months’ married pair vowed to separate, and with that re
solve had visited M. Perron. Reconciliation they declared
was beyond possibility, and they requested the nolary at once
to draw up the documents that should consign them to differ
ent homes, to subsist on a divided patrimony, in loveless and
unhappy marriage. Each told a tale in turn, and the man
ner of relation added fuel to the anger of the other. The
man and the woman seemed to have leaped out of their na
ture in the accession of their passion. Pity that a quarrel
should ever dilate thus, from a cloud the size of a man’s hand,
to a thunder-storm that covers heaven with its black and
dismal canopy.
Neither would listen to reason. The study of the notary
was to prepare the process by which they were to be separa
ted.
“Monsieur,” he said, “I wifi arrange the affair for you ;
but are you acquainted with the laws of France in this res
pect? ”
“I know nothing of the law,” replied M. Pierro Lavalles.
“Madame,” said the notary, “your wish shall be complied
with. But you know what the law says on this head ? ”
“I never read a law book,” sharply ejaculated Madame
Pierre Lavalles.
“Then,” resumed the notary,” “the case is this: You
must return to your house, and 1 will proceed to settle the
proceedings with the Judicatory court at Paris. They are
very strict. You must furnish me with all the documents rel
ative to property.”
“1 have them here,” put in the husband, by way of pa
renthesis.
“And the whole affair, including correspondence, prepara- 1
• tion of inoti iU)ici:tc, &C., W ill be SClllCCt In lOSS UIUII ttU'O
months.”
“Three months ? ”
“Three months. Yes, in less than three months.”
“Then I will live with a friend at the village, until it is fin
ished,” said Madame Lavalles, in a decided, peremptory tone,
usual with ladies when they are a little ashamed of them
selves—or any on„• else.
“Oh, very well, Madame—oh, very well.”
“Not at all well, Madame, not at all well, Monsieur,”
said the notary, with a solid, immovable voice. “You must
live as usual. If you doubt my knowledge of the law, you
will, by reading through these seven books, find that this fact
is specified.”
But the irritated couple were not disposed to undertake the
somniferous task, and shortly left the house, as they had
come, walking the same way, but the distance of a yard
or so from one another.
Two montlis and twenty-seven days had passed, when the
notary issued from his house, and proceeded towards the house
where Monsieur and Madame Lavalles dwelt.
A demoiselle ushered him into a little parlor, where Mon
sieur and Madame Havalles had just sat down to breakfast.
The husband and wife sat side by side, with pleasant looks,
and so engaged in light and amiable conversation, that they
hardly noticed the entrance of the notary. The storm had
vanished and left no trace. Flushes of anger, flushes of spite,
quick breathings and disordered looks—all these had passed,
and now smiles, and eyes lit only with kindness, and bosoms
beating with calm content, and looks all full of love, were a
lone to be observed.
When M. Antoine Perron entered, they started ; at length,
and then recollecting his mission, blushed crimson, looked at
one another, and then at the ground, awaiting his address.
“Monsieur and Madame,” said the notary, “according to
your desires I come with all the documents necessary for your
separation, and the division of your property. They only
want your signature, and we will call in your servant to be
witness.”
“Stay,” exclaimed Madame Julie, laughing at her hus
band ; “Pierre, explain to M. Perron.”
“Ah, Monsieur Perron,” said Monsieur Pierre Lavalles,
we had forgotten that and hoped you had also. Say not a
word of it to any one.”
“No, not a word,” said Madame Julie, “We never
quarrelled but once sinco we were married, and wo never
mean to quarrel again.’’
“Notunless you provoke it,” said Monsieur Lavalles, au
daciously. “ButM. Perron, you will take breakfast with
us? ”
“You’re a wicked wretch,” said Madame Julie, tapping
him on the check. “After breakfast, M. Perron, we will
sign the papers.”
“After breakfast,” said M. Pierre Lavalles, “wc will burn
them.”
“We shall see said the notary. “Sign them or burn them.
Madame Julie Lavalles, your coffee is charming.”
Anecdote of John Fletcher.—A young min
ister of the Wesleyan Church in England, received
his first appointment to the circuit including the
town of Madeley, at that time favored with the min
isterial labors of Rev. John Fletcher. He was di
rected on reaching Madeley, to inquire for Mr. F’s
residence, where he would meet with a welcome re
ception. On riding up to the house lie called or
knocked, when an elderly servant as he supposed,
iu ordinary clothing, met the summons. “Is this
Mr. Fletcher’s residence ? ” “It is sir.” “My name
is , the junior preacher for this circuit.” “Yes,
sir, the family have been expecting you ; dismount
and walk in.” “No: my man ; I make it an inva
riable rule to see my horse attended to first: take
him to the stable ; get your curry-comb aud brush,
and curry him down ! ” Tho old man in compli
ance with his directions, performed tho duties of
hostler. “Now give him his provender, aud I’ll go
into the house.” “Walk in, sir; take a seat,”
Looking round, and seeing no one but the old hast
ier, he enquired, “Where is Mr Fletcher “I am
Mu. Fletcher ! ” Ilis surprise and mortification
can be better imagined than described, but the ex
cellent Fletcher told him not to distress himself,
but let it be a lesson for the future, not to infer
that because a man wears rusty clothes at home,
he must be a hostler.
A Crotchet. —“Go out into the woods, Sambo,”
said a southern master to one of his negroes, “and
cut me some crotchets for a fence—to stick in the
ground like this,” making at the same time an in
verted A of two fingers on a table.
The negro took his axe, went into the woods,
was gone all day, and returned at last with nothing
but his axe in his hand.
“Where are your crotches, Sambo f ’ asked his
master.
“Couldn’t find none, massa, no how !”
“Couldn’t find any!” said his master; “why
there are thousands of them in the woods. Why
look at that tree ; there are half a dozen on that:
couldn’t you find auy like thatpointing to a fork
ed branch on the tree.
“Oh, yes, massa, plenty o’ dem kind ; but dey all
crotch wp —t’ougbt you wanted dem kind dat crotch
down !”
Hooking.
“Aha, T have caught you at last. Come down,
you little rogue, you. I’ll teach } t ou how to steal
my cherries. Come down, I say ! Do you recol
lect how the old man brought the young sauce-box
out of his apple tree ? Well, now sir, take warning,
and come down before I have to try stones.”
“I’ll come down, if you’ll promise not to whip
me.”
“Well, come down anyhow. The Bible says :
‘Thou shalt not steal,’ and the same good book al
so says, ‘The way of the transgressor is hard.’ ”
“I didn’t know it was stealing just to take a few
cherries. I won’t do so any more.”
“You didn’t know it was stealing ? Well, what
do you call stealing, then! ” (The little fellow
couldn’t find words to “define his position,” and the
old man answered the question for himself.)
“Stealing is taking the property of another with
out his knowledge or consent.”
“I thought that was only hooking .”
“Ah! you have learned the new name, have you !
Well, you may call it what you choose, but it’s the
same thing after all, and you are violating, or break
ing the eight commandment, in hooking my cher
ries, just as much as if you would go and steal coni
from my crib.
“The youngster saw that the old man was in
earnest, and lie came sliding down, saying in a low
tone of voice. I didn’t know it was any harm.”
“Now, sir, I have a great mind to thrash you.
The very next time I catch you in my trees, I’ll
teach you the difference between hooking and steal
ing. If you had come to me and asked, my leave
to go and get a few cherries, as James did, you
could have had just as many as you wanted ; I nev
er refuse to give any sort of fruit to my little friends
but they must not steal it. Fruit that grows in my
orchard, is just as much my property, as the corn
and eottou crop that grows in my fields, and you
have no more right to the one than the other.”
Little reader, was it you that was caught in the
cherry tree ? Have you ever hooked or taken any
thing that was not your own \ Then let it be the
last time. Quit it, quit it now ; for evil habits grow.
By taking little tilings, when children, and still con
tinuing to take little things as (hey grow up, many
persons have acquired such a habit of taking, that
after awhile, they could not quit it, though they
knew it was wrong. Little reader, take my advice,
and always ask for what you want, and you will al
ways receive more abundantly than they that take
without asking.
Yankee Doodle with Variations.
Wo have a young lady acquaintance who is a very fine
performer on the piano. Calling at her house the other af
t’ lii r n for a few moments, she entertained us.with a few,ia-~
‘PfW.te pieces, together with two or three of tiie most ad
mired songs of the day. Now, our friend's house is in rath
er dose proximity to the street, and the parlor is not proof
to the rude gaze of passers-by, or of those who are so rude
as to take advantage of this too common fault of construct
ing dwellings in cities. While in the midst of her musical ef
forts, a tall, young Kentuckian, who had just made his egress
from the “barrens” where lie was born and raised, chanced
to saunter along the street, and charmed with the novel imi
ic, but rather uninformed as to the conventional rules of city
society, approached the parlor window, and with eyes dila
ted and mouth extended, stood there enraptured while she
sang “Give me a cot in the valley I love.”
“Are you fond of music? inquired the lady, who is fond
of a bit of sport.
“Well, 1 am that very thing,” retorted the blunt Kentuck
ian.
“Do you play? asked our friend in a quizzical manner.
“I can play right smart tunes on the fife,” said the country
man, “but and n me if I ever saw any body play on a bu
reau before! ”
“Tliis is what we call a piano, sir,” said the performer,
never hear of such an instrument ? ”
“No, sir-ce! said Kontnck, “there’s no such critters in
our parts, as that, but it makes mighty nice kind o’music!
Can you play Yankce*Doodle on that machine? ” said lie
suddenly, and with great earnestness of manner.
The lady answered in the affirmative, and this popular na
tional air, with variations, was performed in truly artistic stylo.
But the uncultivated car of the rustic could hardly discover,
through the “variations,” a single strain of his much loved
tune, and at the close of the piece he exclaimed—
“ls that Yankee Doodle?’ 1
“Yes sir, that is Yankee Doodle with the variations.”
“Well 1 ” ejaculated Kentuck, thrusting each hand into a
pocket preparatory to a start, “that may do for you city folks,
but give me the naked Doodle ! ”
And off he went.
Married aginst his Will.
Sir Walter Scott used to relate the foilwing curi
ous anecdote :
“My cousin Watty,” said lie, “ was a midshipman
some forty years ago in a ship at Portsmouth ; he
and two other companions had gone ashore, and had
over staid their leave, spent till their money, run
up an immense bill at a tavern on the Point. The
ship made the signal for sailing ; but their landlady
said —
“ ‘No, gentlemen, you shall not escape without
paying your reckoning;’ and she accompanied her
words by appropriate actions and placed them un
der the tender keeping of a sufficient party of bail
iffs.
They felt that they were in a scrape, and petition
ed very hard to be released.
“ ‘No, no,’ said Mrs. Quickly, ‘I must be satisfied
some way or t’other; you must be well aware, gen
tlemen, that you will bo totally ruined if you don’t
get on board in time.’
“ They made long faces and confessed that it was
true.
“ ‘Well,’ said site I’ll give you one chance. lam
so circumstanced here that I cannot carry on busi
ness as a single woman, and I must contrive some
how to have a husband —or, at all events, I must bo
able to produce a marriage certificate; and therefore,
the only terms on. which you shall all have leave to
go on board to-morrow, is, that one of you consent
to marry me. I don’t care a snap which it is; but
by all that is good, one of you I’ll have, or else all
three go to jail and your ship sails without you !”
“The virago was not to be pacified, and the poor
youths, left to themselves, agreed, after a time, to
draw lots, and it happened to fall on my cousin.
No time was to be lost, and oft’ they marched to
church and my poor relative was forthwith spliced.
The bride, on returning, gave them a good substan
tial dinner, and several bottles of wine apiece, and
having tumbled them into a wherry, sent them oft’.
The ship sailed, and the young men religiously ad
hered to the oath of secrecy they bad made previous
tu drawing lots.
“ The bride, I should have said, only wanted to
get married, and was the first to propose an eternal
separation.
“ Some months after, at Jamaica, a file of papers
reached the midshipmen’s berth, and Watty, who
was observed to be looking over them carelessly
reading an account of a robbery and murder at
Portsmouth, suddenly jumped in his exstacy, forgot
his obligation of secrecy, and cried out, —
“ Thank heaven, my wife is hanged!”
Little Jokers.
The old saying is, “To make a man a drunkard,
give him a wife who will scold him every time he
comes homo.”
An inmate of a mad-house b**ing asked what
brought him there, replied:—“A mere quibble of
words, sir; I said every body was mad, and every
body said I was—and the majority carried it.”
A wit said that cold cheese is better than cold
steel —because it is mightier than the sword.
The Germans call a thimble a finger-hat, and a
glove a hand-shoe.
Fiddlesticks. —A word strongly expressive of
contempt. It crushes all reply. When a lady once
says “ Fiddlestick,” he is a bold man who utters an
other word.
“ Bob, is that dog a hunter ?”
“No, he’s a half-hunter and a half-setter; he
hunts bones half the time, and sets by the stove
when he is satisfied.”
It is the opinion of many, that the matrimonial
agency, established in Boston, may be termed a
charitable institution, because “ it is evidently estab
lished for the relief of widows.”
A Relic.— A precious relic has lately been dis
covered, being a dog-collar supposed to have belong
ed to Julius (Jatsar, from the fact of having his name
engraved on it.
There is a man down east eighty years old who
calls himself a boy, because he Ills seen only twenty
birth days, lie was born on the twenty-ninth of
February.
Why, Indeed ! —“ Why arc handsome young la
dies’ lips like a persimmon !”
“ Because the more you taste them, the more they
draw.”
“ The most useful sign-painters in the world are
publishers of newspapers —advertise your business
in the papers, if you would draw custom.’’
Maxims for Business People.
1. The world estimates men by their success in
life; and, by general consent, success is evidence of
superiority.
2. Never, under any circumstances, assume a re
sponsibility you can avoid consistently with your
duty to yourself and others.
3. Base all your actions upon a principle of right;
preserve your integrity of character, and in doing
this, never reckon the cost.
4. Remember that self-interest is more likely to
warp your judgment than all other circumstances
combined; therefore, look well to your duty when
your interest is concerned.
5. Never make money at the expense of your re
putation.
G. Be neither lavish nor niggardly ; of the two,
avoid the latter. A mean man is universally despi
sed ; but public favor is a stepping-stone to prefer
ment —therefore, generous feelings should be culti
vated.
7. Let your expenses be such as to leave a bal
ance in your pocket. Ready money is friend in need.
8. Keep clear of the law ; for, when you gain your
case, you are generally a loser of money.
9. Never relate your misfortunes, and never grieve
over what you cannot prevent.
JjO. No man who tnusm-nrmcti as he ctfii pay, Has
any right to endorse for another.
it?” “ What is your age ? Miss,” inquired a gal
lant marshal of a young lady about sixty, in the
district the other day.
“ W hat’s that to you, M r. Impertinence ?” said the
fair one drawing up, and exhibiting a formidable
chcvaux dc frizc of broken teeth and sanguineous
gums. .
“It is a very unpleasant question, but it mu 4 be
asked. Wlmt ttge shall 1 place you at l —Twenty.
I should think.”
“ Yes,” said the old girl completely mollified. “1
think 1 was. twenty last spring,” and the gratified
damsel invited our friend to take a glass of wine
and call again before ho left town.
One Os the Witnesses. —During the trial of
Drury, on the torpedo charge, in New York, Mr.
Clark, counsel for the accused, attempted an irrele
vant cross-examination of one Jacob li. Sheys, .and
came off second best, as below described:
Cross-examined by Mr. Clark. 1 was not an as
sistant justice at the time of the conversation.
Q. —What tire you now ?
A.—l was reared to the profession of the law, but
whether I am a lawyer or not, 1 cannot say. [Laugh
ter.]
Q. —Do you write poetry and attend to the indul
gence of the poet’s fancy more than the law ?
A.—l sometimes do indulge in imagination, and
think it more honorable to do so than to take fees for
legal advice which I am notable to give. [Laugh
ter.]
Q. —Do you not frequently indulge in imagina
tion, and fancy circumstances which never occurred ?
A.—-I tried to imagine that you were a gentle
man, and a man of education, and I had to give it
up as a vain imagination. [Renewed laughter.]
ZW” Dow n in Maine, two friends passing by anew
church that had been erected on the site of an old
one, noticed that the pew doors had been appropria
ted to the vile use of fencing. One of the friends
made the remark that it appeared somewhat sacrile
gious to put them to such use. The other, holding
up his hands, solemnly responded, “ O Pudor /” A
friend of ours dived down into Maine lately, and
brought up the above gem for us. —Boston Path
finder.
Courting Scene. —“ Johnathan, did you ever
read that ere story about the man as was hugged to
death by a bear!’’
“ Guess I did, Sewke, and it did make me feel so
bad.”
“ Why, how did you feel, Johnathan ?”
“ Kinder sorter as if I’d like to hug you enamost
to death, tew, you’tarnal, nice, plump, elegant, little
critter, you Sewke.”
“Oh! la! Go away, you—Johnathan.”
Hints to HonsewiTCS.
A Baked English Stew\— For very delicate ea
ters trim all the fat with scrupulous care from some
lamb cutlets taken from the loin; dip them into cold
water, season them with line salt and pepper, dredge
them on both sides lightly with flour, and put them
into a pie dish in one fiat layer; pour three or four
table spoonfuls of cold water over them, and then
cover them thickly and closely with new potatoes of
equal size, which have been thrown into boiling wa
ter, slightly salted, and boiled quickly for five or six
minutes, and then allowed to become nearly or quite
cold; shake a little salt over, and bake the stew
gently for an hour. To prevent the potatoes from
becoming hard, a deep dish, the size of the one in
which they are baked, may be turned over them. If
sent to a baker’s oven the edges of ihe two may be
luted with flour aud water paste. An inch deep
layer of ready-boiled green peas, placed under the
meat, is an improvement to Ibis stew, of which t} lo
relish can be heightened at pleasure by the addition
of minced herbs and cayenne pepper to the cutlets •
but in its quite simple form it will be found well
adapted to a plain family or nursery dinner. \
little cold broth or gravy, when at hand, may be
substituted for the water; and mutton cutlets will
serve for the dish as well as those of lamb.
Good Light Luncheon Cake.—Break down
four ounces ot butter into a couple of pounds of flour
and work it quite into crumbs, but handle it very
lightly; mix in a pinch of salt and four ounces o{
pounded sugar; hollow the centre, and stir into it i
large table spoonful of solid well washed yeast, dilu
ted with three-quarters of a pint of warm new’nnlk*
when sufficient of the surrounding flour is mixed
w ith it to form a thick batter, strew more flour on
the top, lay a cloth, once or twice folded together
over the pan, and let it remain until the leaven has
become very light; this it will generally be in an
hour and a quarter, or at the utmost, in an hour and
a half. The fermentation may be quickened by in
creivsing the proportion of yeast, but this is better
avoided, as it may chance to render the cake bitter •
additional time, however, must always be allowed
for it to rise when but a small quantity is
When the leaven is at the proper height, add to a
couple of well whisked eggs sufficient
milk to w arm them, and mix them with ihe'other in
gredients ; then beat well into the cake, by decrees
eight ounces more ot pounded sugar, and lnlf i
grated nutmeg : cut from two to°three ounces of
candied citron thin, and strew over it, leave it again
to rise, as before, for about three-quarters of an
hour; mix the citron equally with it, put it into a
thickly buttered tin or earthen pan, and bake it in a
brisk oven for an hour and ten minutes at the least
and after it is placed in it let it not be moved until
it is quite set, or it will possibly be heavy at tie?
top. The grated rinds of a couple of lemons will
improve its flavor. Fine Lisbon sugar can he u>ed
to sweeten it instead of pounded, but the diffi-rem-e
of expense would l>e very slight, and the cake would
not be so good ; the quantity can, of course, k- di
minished when it is considered too much. Three
quarters of a pound of currants can be add’ and t< it
w hen liked : and candied orange or lemon rind may
at choice, be substituted for the citron.
MILITARY INSTITUTE,
Slue lucks , Ky.
BOARD OfT'ISITORS.
r PIIR AD4IT \NT CF.XER \L- together with five fit in-rsons. to
-L annually amounted by the Executive, to attend examinations at
least once a year, according to law.
FACUI- T Y a
Incorporated with ail tin; powers, and rights exercised by the Tmi
ters and Pnru'ty of any other College.
COL. T. F. JOHNSON, General Superintendent.
*COU E. \\ . MORGAN. Jent Superintendent end Prafc?sorfo I.H’
gituerintr ami of A.tn/ History.
* LIE Cl. COL. 11. 11. JOHNSON, Professor of X'utnml and F.jptri •
mental Philosophy.
+MA.J. l\ . l\ . A. FORBES. Profrsssor of .dUlrmatieg.
RICHARD N. NEWELL, A. 51, Professor of .Indent and .gidir*
iamguagts.
JAMES G. BLANE, A. B. .hljonet Profrrtor of J.en<rmngr*.
I!L\ . 4. I. S\\ I FT, A. M. Professor of Fthice and 1/iltes Jyttrcs.
JAMES H. DAVIESS. F.sq. Professor of /.ore.
REV. 11. D. N EVIUtS, A. M. Pdn-ipnl of the .icadany.
CAPT. C. E. MOTT, Teacher in the ./cadi my.
CAFT. \V. W. GACNT, Adjutant of the I net It ate.
•Educated at West Point.
f Educated at the Virginia Military In.-titutc.
Two hundred and thirty Cn.Vts. from fifteen <llff-rent States, have
entered this Institution since it was organized, in JS37. It is entire
ly free from the control or domination of any sect or party, either |-
litic.d or religious. Economy in dress, by the adoption of a cheap
Filiform, for Winter and Hummer, is rigidly enforced. Every studetu
is required to select a College guardian, with whom all funds brought
or received must lie deposited, apd no debt iicisi be contracted without
the consent of such guardian.
An Institution combining the science of the West point Academy
and of Polytechnic institute , w itli the else .-v.l literature „f our be.-t
- ■CoH-.'ges,- adding the modern fcinenegrs,’ nod su;t;ra,Mni” -*mcii-al
schools of Law and Engineering, nearly rvaflL-s the hm**-fclt bier
at ion of a university able to in.-ct the wants n, ; * , ;v
university where all may select u course ot steady to suit tin ir tiav,
means oiui professional destination.
Mr. Dvvikss, the Professor of Law, is known is the various
Courts as a practitioner of great ability, varied learning, long cxivn
ence and exalted character. Ilis eminent qualifications, the whole
some exercise and discipline of tiie Institute, and the convenient ole
nervation of the forum of judicial proceeding, ofler unusual induce
ments to those who are earnest to achieve distinction as sound Law.tr
CIVIL ENGINEERING
Will lie thor.iuffhty and /,r i, tically taught in the Western Military In
stitute—the Professor, Col. Mono ,\. being one of the most skillful and
experienced Engineers in the United States. All the instruments
netted vv itii that <ie|iartment, have been procured at considerable cost,
and are of the best quality.
The Sujieiintendent takes the liberty of stating that bo is now ofler
edSTo p>:r mouth, for comiH-tant assistant Engineers. Cine of bis for
liter pupils receives at this tint $2,500 |ier annum,as Principal En
gineer of a Railroad now under constructe i. in Kentucky—whilst
others of the same class arc receiving in ditto rent parts of tiie United
States, SB,OOO, $1,500, or SI,BOO a year as Assi tat.r I.n . rs.
Tiie time is rapidly approaching when there will !,- a great demand
f >r such as have I sen pr, pared for that vocation, at the \\ esteru Mil
itary Institute. Nothing is hazarded in saying tint they will readily
command 0 t,Be oor $1,500 [x-r annum. Every man of observation
must see that the gigantic enterprises already prop-,, 1, will give birth
to bundled* of nthcis, tributary to th m. The rapid advancement of
our whole country, and the eagerness- of o, ir iieople, for exploring the
hidden resource*of the new Slates and the newly acquired territory,
will give ample scope for ages to come, to the skill and enterprise of
ttlu Engineer.the Geologist, the Mineralogist.the Surveyor and the
Architect. Young men who have nu nptitod, f,,r the Mathematical
and Physical sciences will have a wide field open. ,1 to them !< r cn-v.-
gmg in an honorable, a healthful and a lucrative pureiut, for which
they may be thoroughly and practically and. in a short time, and
a small expense, at the Western Military Institute.
TERMS.
In the Ara.l mj J3o (n) ~. r annmn
In the College - - . - -10 00 “ *•
For Music and use of Anns and Accoutrements 3 00 “ ‘
For Fuel - - . . -oo “ “
B< tARIHNG can be had in private families, at from two to two at/p
a half dollars a week. When in Barrack*, it is designed to furnish
Commons at auniform rate. Student* from a distance wi,J be r- pine
ed to lxinrd at the Institute, and have no couununicatiou w ith the
town, except a*allowed by written permits.
k W The next session will commence oil the first of September, and
continue ten months.
March 21st, DJSO. j t s
3000 DOLLARS REWARD!!
Reuben Rich’s Patent, Centre Vent, Water W heel
made entirely of Iron with Iron gates- a
gainst Turbine, Hotchkiss and all olher Wheels,
I WILL give SSOO Reward to any person who will produce*- a I*u
tvet Water Wheel,that xvill do as much business with tie- --.no
qua of water under any given head from three feel to thirl) t- ■
or
l will give to any person, who will produce a Strean Wl* eluu
tier a head of eight feet or less that shall equal it, in saving of .. ,;t. r. or
l will give the same amount to any one who will product :u< ov. r
shotor undershot, that will last with my wheel and not cost more iir -
ney sooner or latur, or
I will give the same Reward to any man who will product- :i - -
shot undershot or Breast Wheel, that will run as steady as my win • 1
or
I will give SSOO to any one who will produce a wheel of an; -at ->r
kind patented or not, that will combine to the same extent, > h--:--.. -a
durability, power, speed or simplicity so easily applied m all situatktfis
and so universally applicable to all purposes and every location, or
I will give SSOO, to any one, who w ill produce a Hotchh ..... <1 v<-
that does not consume fitly j>er cent more water to do the same .Saw
ng or Grinding.
Those who doubt can visit the Coweta Full? Factory in this ciiy
and they will see my wheel, driving all their machinery with ut a
Governor, where a French Turbine made in the great city of Lowell
faded to do the business at all. Or if they \v ill visit rteasant Macon's
in Macon county Alabama they \\ ill see one of my wheels, only 2 feet,
and inches in diameter,under a head of 9 feet, grinding 9 to ten bushels
of corn ]>er hour, or in a short ti.uel will show at Winter's Mills in
this city, one of my w heels 3 1-2 feet in diameter, grinding, 50 to 00
bushels jer hour with two pairs of stones. In tiie State of New York
there are at least 500 ofny wheels, Grinding, flawing and Manufac
turing in a style never ye. .lone by any olher. With sutficient head I
can turn 5000 Spindles and 100 Looms with one of my wheels but 2
eet in diameter.
Gindrat it Cos. at t..e Montgomery works Alabama, who are manu
facturing my wheels, will execute orders for t hem, and deliver them in
any place South of the Potomac, anil furnish directions for putting
them to their wotk, with models if required. Post paid letters addres
sed to me at Me itgomery care of Gindrat & Cos. #r at this place care of
G. W. Winter Esq. will meet with prompt attention. In all cases
when the Purchaser is not fully satisfied with the performance of my
wheel, the money will be returned.
REUBEN RICH, Patentee,
from Oswego County New York.
ColuatbiisGa. March 21st, 1830. I—ll1 —11 j.
To Printers,
FOR SALE Cheap for Cash or approved paper, one Im
perial Smith Press ami all other necessary materials
| suitable for a country Fruiting Office- Application to bo
made at this Olli* c. Aug li, 1c59.
