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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.