Newspaper Page Text
400
jjfceness, gave the youth a sixpence. And
‘his may be reckoned the first money Chant
rev ever received for the production of his
art.
FURIOSITIES OF COILING WATER.
The higher we ascend, the less the pres
ure of the atmosphere becomes, and conse
quently being to a certain extent removed
irom its surface, water boils at a much lower
temperature than below. Many remarkable
facts are dependant on this, for the nutritious
principles in many kinds of animal and veg
etable food cannot be extracted at a tempera
ture lower than 212 degrees ; therefore those
who live in very elevated regions, such as
die plains of Mexico, are deprived of ma
ny luxuries which their more fortunate, be
muse less elevated, neighbors are capable of
procuring, this is rather remarkable as relates
*0 the monks of St. Bernard, who live at the
Hospice on the Alps at an elevation of 8600
feet. They are obliged to live almost entire- ‘
!v on fried, roasted, and baked fool, as wa
perties from the food which they procure. —
‘or there boils at 203 degrees, which is an in
>ufiiciertt heat to extract the nutritious pro-
Herice that isolated community, situated at
-he boundary of the beautiful Swiss valleys
m the north, and the fertile plains of Pied
mont on the South, seem, as it were, cut of?
from participating in many comforts, from
‘lie simple fact, that they cannot make then
oiling water so hot as that of their neigh
bors he^ow. — Isaiah Dcik ,
iOSALBM.
Strange, mysterious city! What a hold it
hath upon every imagination ! llow linked
in. is it. with recollections of the times of
youth. —with lessons from the Scriptures, de
livered by the priest of our earliest days,
rVom the sweet Olive mount of childhood !
Straightway as we read of that Metropolis
of Faith, we go back on the posting wings
of Remembrance, to the green fields and fresh
waters of serener years. We hear the chimes
of Sabbath bells, the voices'of the choir, and
he pealing of that delicious organ, whose di
apason was rapture, whose triumphant har
mony kindled the soul. Associations of
Bethlehem and merry Christmas mingle to-.
gether —and the babe in the manger is con
trasted with the green-wreathed churches and
blessings of Home. A hallowed word, in
deed: is Jerusalem. The great temple of Sol
omon.—the gate that looked toward Damas
cus. — XheVia Dolorosa, —these, with a thou
sand other scenes of interest, arise to thq
mind at the mere mention of that devoted
:ity, from whose moundciin-girt cireumfer
:nce were once rejected the brooding wings
of the Almighty. How many pilgrims have
gone there.—how many have died there,
m the “ entering in of the ways," —in the
billows of Jordan! How many crusaders,
battling for the cross of their order, —frank-
lins, deserting the oaken halls of their far
eastern castles, —fair penitents, distrusting
themselves and relying on God, —palmers,
with 44 sandal-shoon and scallop-shell!
HORACE GREELEY. HOW TO SUC
CEED.
The Editor of the Tribune is •• an odd fish,”
but a very energetic one, as the following
graphic sketch of the commencement of his
career, by Mr. Howe, of Mississippi, a broth
er craftsman, will prove :
•- 1 Many years ago, when we were, like
Br. A. of Shieldsboro’, one of the good-look
ing young men of the country, as we were
strolling along by the Park, in the city of
Gotham, we met a brother typo, an ill-dress
ed and most ungraceful fellow, the back of
his well-worn hat pressed down to his shoul
ders —the sleeves of his thread bare coat ex
tended but about half-way from his elbows
to his wrists: and a pair of time-honored
pants but barely covered his slim shanks to
within an inch or two of his ankles. Flaxen
was his poll; blank and expressionless his
f tee; and if a painter or statuary in search of
a subject perfectly devoid of the graces, had
then encountered him, the artist would have
said, 4 This is the very object of my search !’
How are you, Howe V c How are you Gree
ley 1 What have you got there V (He had
about half a ream of papers under his arm.)
The first number of anew paper-The New
Yorker—(handing me one)- —which 1 have
just started —struck off ten thousand copies,
and a:n distributing them gratuitously, ex
perimentally, expecting to get a goodly list
of subscribers ihereby—in a hurry —good
bye;’ and the sloven passe 1 on his way—to
wealth as a publisher—to fame as all editor
—to popularity as a politician—and now is
the most eminent representative in Congress,
3©©Tf i© & A 531 a, a if 1 is Hi AA V ©Afl& Wg *
of the first city in the Inion—of that city’ in
which, sixteen years ago, doubtless, many a
fashionable young la ly tittered as she passed,
at the queer-looking young disciple of Frank
lin.”
PRINTER’S PROVERBS.
Never inquire thou of the editor for the
news, for behold it is his duty at the appoint
ed time to give it unto thee without asking.
When thou dost write for his paper, never
say unto him, “what thinkest thou of my
piece V- —for it may he that the truth may
offend thee. Jt is not fit that thou shouldst
ask him who is the author of an article, for
his duty requires him to keep such things to
himself. When thou dost enter into his office,
have a care unto thyself that thou dost not
look at what may be lying open, for that is
not meet in the sight of good-breeding. Nei
ther examine thou the proof-sheet, for until. 1
ready to meet thine eye, thou mayest not
understand it. Prefer the best conducted
paper to any oilier, and subscribe immediate
iy for it and pay in advance, and it shall be
well with thee and thy little ones.
A NEW PROJECT.
The newspapers have it that Park Benja
min and several other literary gentlemen con
template starting a large, independent weekly
Journal in newspaper form, in N. Y. city.—
The intention is presumed to be to establish
a Journal which shall be bone fide indepen
dent,--one that shall discuss all subjects in
the light of reason. This cannot hut be. the
most popular movement of the day,—for the
time is fully come, when truth may encoun
ter prejudice and corruption, with but little
risk. .. • . |
SPIRITED YOUNG LADY.
A gentleman being in company with a
spirited damsel of about fourteen, was some
what annoyed by her playful trickery. At
length he exclaimed, “Now. my dear girl.
do be still l' 1 This touched the chord of;
feminine vanity which is sure to vibrate.—
Aesuming an air of important, and retiring
a step or two, she drew herself up in a post
ure of self-defence, and responded— 44 Girl,
indeed! I am as much of a woman as you
are /”
This anecdote reminds us of one told us by I
a lady friend, a few evenings since. Some
years ago a young man, from just across the
Connecticut, who was attending our village
. academy, became sadly infected with the no
tion that all our maidens were, in love with
him. While in this state of mind, it fell to 1
his lot one evening to see a Miss H safe
ly to her fathers domicil. On arriving at
the door, the lady invited him to enter, lie
did so. After a few moments’ conversation
he arose to leave, and as Miss II was (
showing him to the door, she innocently’
enough remarked that they would be pleased
to see him again. Here was an occasion for j
the exercise of Jonathan's courage and moral i
principle. Expanding himself to his tallest
hight, with a graceful but determined inclina-
{ tion of the head, he replied, “ I should be
happy, Miss, to call as a friend., hut not as a
feller P\
Archbishop Tillotson. —There are some
j children who are almost ashamed to own
their parents, because they are poor, or in 1
a low situation in life. We will, therefore, j
give an example of the contrary, as displayed
by the Dean of Canterbury, afterwards Arch
bishop Tillotson. His fathher, .who was a 1
very plain Yorkshireman, approached the
house where his son resided, and inquired
whether “John Tillotson was at home.”!
The servant, indignant at what he thought
his insolence, drove him from the door: but
the Dean, who was within, hearing the voice
( of his father, instead of embracing the oppor
tunity afforded him, of going out and bring
ing in his father in a more private manner, !
came running out, exclaiming, in the presence
of his astonished servants, 44 It is mv father;”
and, falling down on his knees, for his
blessing.
i
Sir Thomas More — Sir Thomas More be- !
ing Lord Chancellor of England, observes
Baker in his chronicle, at the same time that
his father was a judge of the King's Bench,
he would always, at his going to Westminis
ter, go first to the King's Bench, and ask his
father's blessing before he went to sit in
’ Chancery.
JCharles Lamb was no friend to the
modern Guano system of infant training.
Being asked by a friend to select an appropn
, ate sign for an infant school about to be
opened, he gave “The murder of the inno
cents.'’
Gsrlrctic of tint.
HOW THEODORE HOOK GOT A DIN
NER.
“Lounginr/ up Soho Square in the after
noon with Terry the actor, the nostrils of the
promenade.rs were suddenly saluted with a
concord of sweet odors from a spacious area.
They stopped, snuffed the grateful incense,
and peeyingdown perceived through the kitch
en wirvdow preparations for a handsome din
ner, e vidently on the point of being served.
i .‘“What a feast! 7 said Terry. 4 Jolly
dogs,! 1 should like to make one of them.’
“ I’ll take any bet,’returned Hook, -that
I do —call for meat ten o'clock, and you will
Cnd that I shall be ablg to give a tolerable
account of the worthy gentleman’s champagne
i and venison.” So saying, he marched up the
steps, gave an authoritative rap with the
knocker, and was quickly lost to the sight of
i his astonished companion. Asa matter of
course he was immediately ushered by the
servant as an expected guest, into file draw
ing-room, where a large party had already
assembled. The apartment being well-nigh
full, no-notice was at first taken of his intru
sion, and half a dozen people were laughing
at his bon mots , before the host discovered the
mistake. Affecting not to observe tire visible
embarrassment of the latter, and ingeniously
avoiding any opportunity for explanation,
Hook rattled on till he had attracted the great
cr part of the company in a circle round him,
and some considerable time had elapsed ere
the old gentleman was able to catch the at
tention of the agreeable stranger.
44 4 1 beg your pardon, sir, 7 lie said, contri
ving at last to get in a word; 4 but your name,
sir—l did not quite catch it—servants are so
abominably incorrect—and 1 am really a Jit
. tie at a loss— ’
“‘Don’tapologise, l beg,’ graciously replied
Theodore; 4 Smith—my name is Smith—and
as you justly observe, servants are always
making some stupid blunder or another. ‘ 1
remember a remarkable instance,’ kc.
44 4 But really, my dear sir,’ continued the
host, at the story illustrative of stupidity in
servants: 4 I think the mistake on the pres
ent occasion does not originate in the source
you allude to : I certainly did not anticipate
the pleasure of Mr. Smith's company at din
ner to-day.’
44 4 No, I dare say not—you said four in
your note:. 1 know, and it is now, 1 see, a
quarter past five — you are a little fast by the
way: but the fact is, I have been detained
in the city—as I was about to explain when
“ 4 Fray,’ explained the other, as soon as
he could slay the volubility of his guest,
4 whom may 1 ask you, do you suppose you
are addressing V
• 4 4 Whom t Why Mr. Thompson, of course.
1 —old friend of my father. I have not the
pleasure, indeed, of being personally known
to you, but having received your kin 1 invi
tation yesterday, on my arrival from Liver
pool, Frith Street —lour o'clock—Family par
ty —come in boots —you see I have taken
you at your worn. J arn only afraid 1 have
kept you waiting.’
“'No, no, not at all. But permit me to
observe, my dear sir, my name is not exactly
Thompson, it is Jones, and— ’
44 4 Jones!’ repeated the soi-disaut Smith
in admirably assumed consternation: 4 Jones
—why surely I cannot have—yes, I must—
good heaven! I see it all! My dear sir, what
an unfortunate blunder—wrong house—what
must you think of such an intrusion! 1 am
really at a loss for words in which to apolo
gize—you will permit me to retire at present,
and to-morrow —*
“ 4 Pray don't think of retiring,’ exclaimed
the hospitable old gentleman, ‘your friend's
table must have been cleared long ago. if, as
you say, four was the hour named, and I am
only too happy to be able to offer you a seat
i at mine.’
“Hook, of course, could not hear of such
a thing—could not think of trespassing upon
the kindness of a perfect stranger; if too late
for Thompson, there were plenty of chop
houses at hand; the unfortunate-part of the
business was, he had made an appointment
with a gentleman to call at ten o'clock. The
good-natured Jones, however, positively re
fused to allow so entertaining a visitor to
withdraw dinnerless. Mrs. Jones joined in
solicitations, the Misses Jones smiled bewitch
ingly; and, at last Mr. Smith, who soOn re
covere 1 from his confusion, was prevailed
upon to offer his arm to one of the ladies,
and take his place at the 4 Well-furnished
board.’
“•[n all probability the family of Jones
never passed such an evening before. Hook
naturally exerted himself to the utmost to
keep the party in an unceasing roar of laugh-
ter, and make good the first impression TL,
mirth grew fast and furious, when, by
of a coup de grace , he seated himself at ilv.
piano-lorte, and struck oft’ into one of thn ‘
extemporaneous effusions which had fill!i
more critical judgee than the Joneses with 2
light and astonishment. Ten o’clock struck
and on Mr. Terry being announced, Ids tA
umphant inend wound up the performance
: with the explanatory stanza;
“ ‘ ? am ™T much pleased with your f are
V our cellar sas prune as your cook • ’
My friend’s Mr Terry, the player,
And I'm Mr. Theodore Ilook!”
! Hook's Remains.
3, Column Cvcrtcb to Juu.
BUSY BODIES.
One of those fussy inquisitives, rneddle
sonri e-po k e-y ou r- nose-i n t o-e v cry-body’s -busi
ness little fellows, of whom we sometimes
read, took a seat near us, in the Baltimore
! car, on Tuesday evening He made himself
j generally entertaing for an hour, with his
droll remarks and funny questions, when an
old woman came in ; whereupon our little
j felkrr-started to his feet, and inquired:
“ Do you live hereabouts, madam
44 No, sir.’’
‘•On a visit, I presume ?”
“No. sir.”
“No ? Come v now, that's queer.”
“No, ‘taint, \ came down to attend a bury
ing.”
“Oh, oh, yes: a funeral—somebody dead,
eh V’
44 Well, commonly, we don’t hnry folks
down here unless they are dead,” drily repli
ed the old lady.
j The fussy gentleman began to whistle the
! finale to 44 Lucia,' 7 and talked but little du
ling the remainder of the journey.— Phil.
City Item ,
Into Him.—Judge Jeffries, when on the
bench, told an old fellow with a long beard
that he supposed he had a conscience as long
as his beard.
44 Does your lordship,” replied the old
man, “measure consciences by beards? It
so, yout lordship has none at all.
There is an old Dutchman living in
the north of Vermont, very famous for having
a large orchard and making good cider. The
old fellow is fond of the beverage himself,
but was never known to offer any to hi
neighbors. One evening a friend called upon
him, and hoping to “flatter’ the old man out
j of a glass, began to pri.se his cider. ’ 44 Yaas.
yaae,” said the phlegmatic Dutchman, 44 1
hash coot cider—Hans, pring a mug."’ The
boy fetche i the cider and handed it to his
father, who drank it all at a single pull: then
turning to his visitor, exclaimed, “teie ten—
if you don't dink tiat ish coot cider, chust smell
of te mug P’
It was at Admiral Walsingham’s ta
ble that Dr. Johnson made that excellent re
i ply to a pert coxcomb, who absolutely bait
ed him during dinner time:
44 Pray, now*” said he to the doctor, 44 what
would you give, old gentleman, to be as
i young and sprightly as 1 am
“Why, sir,.l think,” replied Johnson.
I would almost be content to be as foolish, m
s3*** Mr. Facing-Both-Ways, accordingly
the Rev. Theodore Parker, is a popular poli
tician in America, just now, sitting on the
fence between Honesty and Dishonesty, an
like the blank leaf between the Old and qev
Testaments, belongingto neither dispensation.
Jfcc#* A gentleman was the author oi a pe
riodical paper called ‘The World.’ In an w>*
j sent fit, during service one Sunday at etuire .
he continued sitting up and was roused )
; his lady with this exclamation: — _
* ‘Mr. Cambridge, what are you thinkingot •
4 0i the next World , my dear. 1
A young prating lawyer, one da>
boasting to a facetious counsellor that be
received five and twenty guineas for ?P £ * a
ing in a certain cause, “And I,” saK F
counsellor, “received double that s a! ?‘
holding my tongue in the same cause
£3“ One day a loving husband t<’< ,n
wife's best pitcher to draw some cu ali( j
l,c was going down the f te i )S > 1 S l r u red himself
in order to .save the crocks-’ J bbj hi ,
considerably. While ; f thoug t,tless
slim very oh . me rcy ’ l*ye
T pitcher?” “No,” says he, in
VN , YK “but I'll be darned if f ilon t-
£ lc . a <&-a-ling went the pitcher against the
anjf:: n 1 °
yf’ 4,. . .