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iJ J L JX. If £;jjiijii£ lM hIlsL
JOHN 11. SKAI.S. (
i UIXOU. )
MS SERIFS, 101.1,
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LINES
Sugtiirtetl (by editing the Post Hill C\tmetery, at
Macon, (la.) to Mrs. D. M. I,a wt-in, Principal of
the Charleston Female High School.
The Oriential Cypress hero
Doth rear its trracefid head,
Where all is sail, and calm and fair,
0h ! stranger lightly tread.
For many loved and early lost,
Here Ho beneath this sod,
Their lives were chill’d by death’s cold frost,
And they now rest with God.
How lovely is their silent home
N'-nr dell an 1 murmuring stream,
\o thought of earth shou’d with ns come
While now of death we dream.
Oh, here ’t’s sadly sweet to roam.
At da v’s departing hour,
And t ink of that bright upper home
Where storms can never lower.
Sow s-.-e the beauteous evening shades
Fall slowly all around,
While through the verdant glades.
Is heard tho low soft sound,
Ocmulgee, of thy rippling wave,
As thou dost flow along,
Near rock and hill and new made pave
To ocean ever on.
So with the tide of human life,
Which bears us swiftly on ;
We too must leave these scenes of strife.
And lie beneath the stone.
When then should mortal care or pain
Or foi tune's darkening frown, .
Make us f .rg-.-t that heavenly plain
Wh re we may wear a crown.
A crown of everlasting peace,
Bought by our Saviour’s blood;
Away, alluring catth ; oh, cease
To draw us from our God.
And thou, oh Father, throned on high.
In mercy, deign to bless
T's feeble worms, who to Thee cry;
Clothe us in righteousness.
And may wc wear a robe
Os spotless white, at thy right hand
In thine own blest abode,
Where ever i hant the cherub band.
THE HUSBAND'S PRE3ENT.
nv sylvancs cobh, jk.
It was --. bitter cold night on the 24'h of Decern,
her. The snow lay deep upon the frozen earth, and
the briihl moon, riding half way up ‘he heavens,
lent a crvsialine lustre V the scene. In the high
road a short distance from a quiet, reposing village,
stood the form of a human being His gnrmt nts were
s -ant and tattered, by lac insufficient to keep out the
biting fro t; }.! fV.ntjt. shook ;;i;d trembl'd likt tie.
ice-bound boughs of the weeping willow that grew
near him, and lib face, as tho moonbeam- now danced
uj>ori it exhibited all the fearful ((•••f.-piints ol the
demon Intemperance. Poor, w retched, and depress
ed, he looked, and such in truth, tv was!
Before him. at the cud of the neatly fenced and
trellised enclosure, stood a cottage. It was elegant |
in it - simple const! uction, and just snob a one as the
humble lover of true comfort and joy vtnu and k for
i lonic. The tears rolled down the bloated cheeks;
of the po..r inebriate as lie gazed upon tin cottage,
anil at length, as bo clasped Ins hands :n agony, he
murmured:
‘O thou fond home of my happier days, thou look
nof thepast lien nth th; i tofl was
tnarri'd to the idol of my -on!, and within thy peace
ful wa lls, God gave me two blessed children. I ben
pta.t and plenty were mine; and love and joe wi re
inirie. Mv wife —God bless her gentle soul—-was
happy th.-n, and my children -may Heaven protect
them’—laughed and played in gk-c.-orne pleasure.—
Gladness smiled upon us, and every hour was a sea
son of h'i-s. Hut I 10-t thee as the fool loseth his
own salvation. Six years havt pas and since the de
mon that I took to my heart drove us liom our she’-
t ring roof. And those sis year-! O, what tm-'-rv,
what agony, what sorro-'S and what dcgredation
have they not brought tq me and my poor fatniy •
pfbolcu lo Cciiipcrancf. iimimirf. rfiUTal Jnttlligcntf. anb the iairst |lclus.
1 Home, heal tig W-, iltii, j’ i.-c.joy and fir ten 5 aregone!
j• t. ‘hot. fated u| no; I will not l>h... thee! It
j was I. I who did iM Year after year I tamper . i
with thy di .vJly sting, > hen 1 knew that destruction ‘
lurked in thy scnil . but, but, and the poor mat j
rrii-'U his hands to heaven as ho spoke, ‘then- !>
room on earth for another matt - an<i l :r : ll be that 1
man! t
M itlnn the only apartment of a mssc.rable and a!- j
1 ..i--:-'. I'’lm s -r.flr. h, iI. ..-at -. wei.iuii and two chi’-
) drcri i boy and girl. The cold wind found its on
! tea: :-e through b mtlre-J crevices, and as its billet
■ ■ tl tgl m, the n and cl
I Irencn u tie:., r to the wr etnbers that . ti.
J smou’iletvd upon the Ivarth. The only furniture
| were four poor stools, a ii kety table, and a scantily
j covered he t; tvhilo in one corner, near tho fire-place,
I was a heap of straw and tattered blankets, whirl
j served as a resting jila.-c the the brotht r and sister
i Part ol th< candle was burning upon the table, nuc
| by its dim ‘tight, ceo meght have seen that wretches’,
j mothei ’ s cmuitcnam > . *l*;w as pale, and w an, an 1 i
wet with tar rhe faces other children were b i
! tied in her lap, and they s :c:ned to sb-vn peacefully i
! under her prayerful guardainship.
; At li-ugih the siciiat nf font -tops upon tho sno v
-| crust, striek upon the mother’s ears, and hastily
1 ■iron- ng her children s’c hurried them to their low
, ly bed, .vi 1 hardly iiad they crouched away beneati
the thin blankets, when the door was opened, and tin
man whom we have already seen before the cottagi
entered the place. W ilh -i trembling, tearful look, tin
wile gazed up into her husband’s face, and seemed
j ready to crouch back t, o n his approach, when the
i mark of a tear upon his cheek caught her eye.—
| Could it lm, thought she, that pearly drop was •
‘tear! No-—perhaps a smov-ftake had fallen there
j and melted.
On -e or tw ice I'lioim Wilkins seemed upon tin
point of speaking some word to his wife, but at length
. he turned slowly away .-u,d nileutly undressed him
J self, and soon after bis w eary limbs touched the bed,
i tie was asleep.
j Long and earnestly did Mrs. Wilkins gize upon
: the features of her husband after h- was asleep.
rhere was som thing strange in his manner—some
.thing un iccmmtiible. Surely, he ha not been drink
■ ing; for his countenance had none of that vacant.
will, demoniac look that usually rested there. Hi.
’ features were lather sad and thoughful, than other
j . . .
I wise, and, O Heaven! is it possible?—a smile played
| about his mouth, and a sound, as if of prayer, iss v <!
| from his lips while yet he slept.
I A faint hope, like the misty vapor of approaching
j morn, flitted before the heart-broken wife. But sh;
could not grasp it, she had no foundation for it! and
with a deep groan she let the phantom pass. Sin
went to her children and drew the clothes more c os -
ly about them; then she knelt by tin ir side, and
after imprinting upon their < hecks a mother’s k ss,
j and uttering a fervent prayer in their behalf, sin
| sought the repose ofher pillow.
Long ere the morning dawn and, Thomas Wilkins
j arose from his l*cd, dr. ssed himself and left tli
! house. His poor wi e awoke jn t as he was going
j out, and she would have called him, hut slit: dared
j not. She would have told him that she had no fuel,
! no bread, not. anything with which to warm and feed
j the children ; but he was gone, and she sank back
| upon her pillow and wept,
! The light of morning came at length, but Mrs.
Wilkins had not risen from bet bed, nor had her
I children crawled from their resting-place. A sound
|of footsteps \\as heard w ithout, accompanied by a
j noise, as though, a light sled were bt ing draggt i thi >’
! the snow. The doer opened and her husband enter
icd. He laid upon tho table a heavy whe-aten loaf, a
| small pail, and a paper bundle; then from his pock
et he took another paper parcel, and again he turned
toward the door. When he next entered, he bore in
his arms a load of wood, and three times did he go
l and return with a load of the same description
j Then he bent down over the fire-place, and soon a
! blazing fir- mnj ped and sparklc-d on the hearth. As
; -oon as this wm- ‘cornplishcd, Thomas Wilkins bent
over bis chil l n and kissed them; lit went to tin
j bedside of.h’s w ife, and w id!*..- norm j v.verfu! emotion
I stirred up his soul and made bis chest heave, he
. murmured:
1 i- • ♦ • • j
‘ha.- me, l.tzzie.
TightN t• i: ; wi).- AOtiu'i net aritm aroiu. itl ru ck
of hr r husband, and r.-mgh the l <■ ~f years w i
! centered in that cm. hi-s. pr< ■- and it upon his lips
i ‘There —no more,’ he uttered, as he gently laid
the arm ofbis w : fc from hi neck, ‘these things f hav.
• ■ , are for j ren;’ an and I
the house.
Mrs. Wilkins arose from her bed, md t'-i-mblingly
,-ht- cxamiiv and tin- arti-des upon tin table. She found
; the loaf, and in the pail sin- found milk; in on. of
the pop- rs sic I* 1 ml t o small bundle-, one of tea
and one of sugar, bile in the remaining- on* die
tbttnd a nice lump of butter. .
*<),’murmured tho poor w ifi.- and mother, as she
, gazed up tt th.r-fii-'d s-t liefore her, ‘whence ennm
tin se ? t’.-.ti it be tha*. Thomas has stolen them? - .
S<. i-i • did tint! tnd that look ‘ that, kiss!
t’ o-e kind, • .veet words! O, my poor, poor heart,
raise riot a hope that may fa!l and crush thee.”
‘Mother,’ at t rii- moment spoke her son, whoraised
himself on hi- elbows, ‘ha-: father gone?’
•Y--S, Charles.’
‘(). tel! m", mother, did lie not come arid kt m--
and little Ahhy this morning?
-y v-< s. he did !'cried tite mother, as -be flew to
th< si le ofher lov and wound her arms about him.
•And mother,’ -aid th child iri a low, trembling
accent, while he turned a tearful look at his mother’s
face, ‘will not father be good to ua once more?’
poimiuininuuitisrii 10, m
Th- n-mtur not s| •ak ; he could only press
her c.d.liiv, ti v, f anil, to lii-i- l- ,som. and weep a
. sooth. r’.-t tears ttpon thym.
‘A a- Ll/.zy \\ lots Is ;>::>• as site sat tier children
1 down to that morning me,-:!? At least, a ray of sun
shine was stru-.’vling-1: c. u . entrance to lnr bosom.
lo ..it'a iui Idle -f the afternoon. Mr. Abel
j Wnlk.-e, a .-tired sea captain of -om-- wealth, sat in
- nnfortal c m-'-r ehca.vd in readin-r. when one
hat t • nt it the
dmr ‘shed to see him ’
Mi!! him to eon in, then,’ n-ttirncd the ‘-it tain.
‘Bui, it’s miserable Wilkins, sir.’
‘Never mind,’ said the captain, after a moment’s
Heshation, sho him it'. Poor fellow,’ he continued,
aft-- th. -era -.nt had gone, ‘I wonder what he wants.
In truth, 1 pity him.’
With -i tt-unblings.'op arc! a downcast look, Thom
as Wilkins • nten-d t’.-mtain Walker’s parlor.
1 Vi, \\ I'kh - 1 ‘he captain, •*< hat brotteht vou
here?’
The poor man twice attempted to speak, but his
| breath failed him.
‘Do you conic for clutiilv?’
‘No, sir,’ .ptickly returned Wilkina, while, his > yes
gleamed with a p'Ott I light.
‘Then sit <i->wn and out with it,’ said the captain,
in a blunt, kind tone.
‘Captain \V alkor,’ commen- ed the p(K>r innn, ashe
took the proffered sen, ‘I have eotne to ask you ii
you --till own the liUl.- cottage, beyond the hill?’
‘ldo.’
‘And is. it occupied ?’
1 ‘No.’
‘ls it engag d?’
I ‘No,’ returned the captain, regardii g his v'sUor
j with uncommon interest. But why do you ask?’
‘Captain Walker,’ said ilkins in a firm and tnnn
'y tone, even though hi- eyes glistened and his lip
juivered. 1 hate been poor ami degraded, deeply
steeped iri the dregs of poverty and disgrace. Every
thing that ma le life valuable, 1 have almost lust.—
My wife and children have suffered; and 0? Go
on'y knows how keenly! 1 have long wandered
‘n the path off in. One after another the tender
| chords of friendship that used to bind me to the
: -vor’tl, have been snapped asunder; my name has
j become a byword, and upon earth I have been but
a foul blot. But ‘ , fi'ct-i Un.., henc-cforth, lam a
man! Iji from the depths of its long grave, I hav
dragged forth mv heart, and love still has its home
therein. 1 have sworn to touch the fatal cup no
more; and in mv heart there is no lie I My wife arid
• children shall suffer no more for sins which then
j never committed. I have seen my old employer at
! he machine shop, and he has given me a situation,
! and i- even anxious that I should conn- back, and.
j ir, he has even been kite! enough to. give mean oi
tier in advance, for necessary artick-H of clothin , food
and furniture. Tt/ tnorro v 1 commence work.’
‘And you came to see if you could obtain yotir cot
tage hack again to live in ?’ said Captain Walker, as
Wilkins hesitated.
Yes, sir, to si-e if F could hire it from you.’ replied
the poor man.
‘Wilkins, how much cat: you make at your busi
ness?’ bluntly asked the old Captain, without seem
ing to heed the request.
‘My employer is going to put me on job work, sir,
and : - soon a-- I get my hand in I can easily make
from twelve to fount en dollars a week.’
Then you might 1- able t - save four hundred dol
lars a year.’
‘I mean to do that, sir.’
Wow momenta Captain Walker grazed into the
face of Ids visitor, and then asked :
‘Have you pit dgt-d yourself yet ?’
‘B- for- God, and in mv heart I hav- ; hut otic ol
my c rand ‘) here was to ret you to write me a pledge,
and hav it undo to my wit- and children.’
j Copl.'tiii Walkt-t at down t. his table and w rote
nit ti: ; requited pledge, ond then, in a trembling,
■ but bold hand, Timni.i . Vi i'kitis vigned it.
‘W ilkins,’ id tht old man -is be took his visitor
; by the hand, ‘I have watched your countenance, and
. weighed well your words. 1 know you speak tin
-1 truth. When I bon/in that collage from yourcred
■ ilots six years ago Ii art them one thousand dollars
for : t H has not bu n harmed, and ir as good as it
was then. Must of the time 1 bn.t received good
rent lor it Now sir, vou shall havt: it for just w hat
i paid for it. aid ■ a-'i: month you hall pay me -uch
a -mm s o can comfortably span until it is all
(aid: I ill a-k for in rent nor fora cent of in
; iei t. You hall kuV’ a deed of tl- estate,
and i>i - i-n-ji ( e, iii i kt hut a single note and mort
gage. up"!. * . i h ‘ • t:ave your tea I, tirn*-
Tldici- H -i tied to fha,.k the old man for
... bi
„i,d c,t•;'t i-..*■ .t t i,i:-i ‘ and while, be yet : witli hi
f.-.c h-tric-l in In- hen is the old man slipp ‘I from
til I ,iml vlnn at length lit return.-d, it. i-'-re
! iii hi hand ,a neatly’ cov. ted basket.
‘Co ii--, coin- 1 t! - captain exclaimed, ‘cheer up, my
frit nd. 11 -c ar.- ■■■or.- titbits for your -aife and rhil
,l,-..n—<a.l c- them b *'uc: atid hehevt: mt-, NV ilkit.s, it
vou ‘..-if as li.apt'y in fee-in;- my favor a- f do
, •, hestoe in? if. \ - at. htn-j.y, indcetl
•()(, di- i.ml-. 11M- you forlhi--, sir!’exclaim
t | th in a . i'-ket. man; ‘anti if Ii- tray y nil
.oi !,tl. ore, n..av ! di- on th..’ iu.-t-ant.
‘Mi.-k to ..-si- pi dgc, Wilkin-',ami I will take can
of t]„. n ..-’ ~l'i the old captain as his friend took the
basket. ‘lf you hav< the tim- t-i-mnrrmv, call on me,
and I “1 nrratigi the pap’ rs.
,\-Thotna• Wfido-on.e m'-r- ent'-rt-d the street
his tr. a/1 -ta- ight anti . a>y. A bright light of joy
ouaness ahone in every feature, and as ho wended hU
wav homeward, ho :>dt. in every rv -n’t’ vs hi: soul
that ho -.vs’ once more a man.
Iho hs-.tny Khadc* that ushered in tho night of
tin Mst ol Ih-ct-mbor, had fallen m. tho snow-clad
•’a. Hi. A itlnn th* tinst-rablv tiwolling of Mrs. Wil- ;
aims th re -is more comfort than m h n first wo vis- I
ited her, but yet on'liin hud t>oon addoil tt’ tin- fiu-i
nhurc ot the place. For tin’ last six days her hits
hand had come home ever evening, and gom away
’H-tOi'c tiayuglr-. t v.— y an -i r , and t.u’- •>; th ‘ tine,
-lie knew that in- had thank tio intoxienting liquors,
for already hail his fm-e began to aaautnn tho stamp!
of its formor manhood, and every mt that he had
spoken hail Wu kind ao. t affo.-i innat. To his . hi!-
drcn In-fiat! brought now shoes amt w.uuer clothine.
and to herself he hati given ail she stood in immedi
ate need of; hut yet, with all Mu*, ho had been taci
turn and thoughtful, showing i disiiki to all ques
tions, ami only -(peaking am h word* -. .- . -i. noc<
sary. I fit- poor, devoted, loving wife lo ran to hope.
And why should she not? For v ars her htishattti
ha I not ben Mins In ‘"ore One work ago she dread
ed bis approach, but now - she fund herself w .liting
for him it Ii all the anxiety of fonn.r tears. Slmultl
ail this!..’ broken? Hhnultl thi-- m-yv charm fit swept
away’ Ivght o’elock came, and so did nine, amt ten,
and yet her husband fame not!
‘Moth- r,’ saiil tittlet ‘harks, jtt t ar the o’ook struck
ion, soetnui. to have awakotictl |Vnin a dreamy slum-
Her, ‘isn’t this the ‘act night of the old vi a
‘Yes, my son.’
\m! do you know what 1 have been dreaming,
dear mother? I dreamed that father had brought ns
New- Year’s gifts ax he used to But he wont, will
he? lie’s too poor now.”
‘No, my dear boy, wc shall have no other pr. scnl
th.au food; and even for that wo must (haul, deal fa
tlier. There, lay your head nmv lap a ain.’
1 he. hoy laid his curly h ad on c more in hi: to
tiler’s lap, and w ith tcatliil eye- sin gazed upon hi--
innocent form.
The clock struck eleven! 1 in- poor wife was \<t
on her tireless, slceples-, watch. But hardly hud tin
sound of iht last stroke died au ay , rt 11 1 .• snow -ciaisl
five hack tin sound <l a looltsi ,ani in a moment
more her husband cult red. \\ itli ati mb’ing feat
she raised In r eyes to his five, and a wild thrill o
joy went to In r heart to she saw that all was nano
hold—only those manly fiatuns looked tum-e joyous
and more proud than ever.
‘Lizzie,’sai l he, in mild and kind accents, ‘I an. j
‘ate to-night, hut busine -s ha- detained tie-, and now
I have a favor to ask of time ‘
‘Name it, th-ar Thomas, and \ .oj shall not a k a
second time,’ cried the wifi a- -he laid her hand cot;
tidcntly upon her httsban : arm.
‘And will you ask no questions?’ continued Wil
kins.
‘No, I will not.’
‘Then,’ continued the husband as he I>< ntover and
imprinted a kis- on his wife’s Inn v, ‘I want you t’
dress our cliil lren for a walk, and you shall accom
pany us. The night is calm and tr.mt|uil and the
snow is well trodden All! no questions. Hemein.
her your pronrst: I
Lizzie Wilkins know not what this all meant, nor
did she think to cart ; for anything that could please
her husband she would have dene with pleasure,
even though t wrenched her very heart-strings. In
a short t!m- tie- children w. re ready, then Mrs. W:l.
kins put on such articles of clothing at she could
command, and soon they were in the r ad.
The moon shore brightly, the stars peeped down
Upon the earth, arid tin y seemed to smile upon the
travelers from out of their twinkling eyes of light. •
Silently Wilkins led tin wav, and silently his w ife
! and childn n followed. S vend limes Ins wifi.- gaz and
I into hi:- countenance ; but from the strange exprt-s
j sion that n sttsl there, slit: coulil make out notliing
I that tended to sa isfy her.
j At length a slight turn in the road brought them
suddenly upon the pretty whit.’ cottage, where years
I before they were so happy Tint now in the front
i yard had been shovelled awav, and a | u!h fi-d up tin
| piazza. Wilkins opened the gate - his wife trem-j
| hlingly fellow* tl, v, hat for shy knew not. I hen ht r ]
i husband opened tin- ificr, and in Mr ritry they wen- j
met by the milling eouiitenan” ot old ( apt Walkti , ,
| who tt-In te<l them into the parlor, where a warm!
! fin gl” “t-d in th- i-.-d'-, and eve.-yth:- “tik-. and in--il
j and comfnrtfibh Mrs M i.kins tnriieil her g.tzc up
on the old man and Un it upon he: husband. Surely,
Jin that greeting bt tween the poor ini., and fit- rich, ,
’ titere was none of that ‘••ui-trn"it •• hich wmi it hav
; been t x;'-ct.'.i! T i-y nu t ratfi'-r a lii- nds at- I
ncighh r What could it uii-aii ’•
Hark! tii- clock strik*--t •>. elve’ ! .'d year ha
’ gone and an a bright cycl ■ ab'fil tot’i)Uirn< nce
! its (light over the c n th !
Thnrna Wilkins took tin: hand of ins wife tit his
, own, end then di awing from hr- out it pa -r, tie
plat -I it in ln r hand, ■ e l l. y ~ It did i—
• ‘Li/zn , this ‘s your Ho - Pnsrnt /or tin
AAz liar!’
The wile look the paper, and sin opened it. .Site
real n l its t onto nts at a . • > mid
read it word for word, for the sij-eami ; tt . of a
■wilt! ami fraiititic joy would not lei With a
• quid-, nervous movcmcti’ -he .-d :>• j ’ dgem-xt
to her botßMn ; and then, with a inmnmr, l:k’
the gentle whisper of some llcivcn hmiad ange!, sh<-
1:11 half fainting into her lm-band’ an*;
‘L-sik up, look up, my own <1 ar v ife,’ littered the
redeemed niati; ‘locik np and-iiiifi “pm your In -
hand; and you, too my children, gitlu ;• about your
father as henceforth I w ill ever he. I.ook up, my
wifi-. There!--Now, L : zzi , led proud with me, for
we stand within o r own houie ! Yes! this cottage
la once more our own; and nothing but the hand of
vtii. \u- \nw i.
death shall again take us hence. Our good, kind
| friend here w ill explain ii ail t, Lizzie, if th re is
happiness on earth, it shall henceforth b ours! Let
Hie past he fin-gotten, and wgh thi , the dawning of
anew ear, let ns commence to five in the future.’
Gently the husband and wife sank upon theii
! knees, dnapitl in each other’s arms; and clinging
joyfully to them, knelt their conscitn-.s, happy chil
dren. A prayer ‘rom the husband's li s wended its
way to the throne of grace, and the warm tears trim
‘Mv! dow/ • thi ,-igcti face of old K ipt W.'dke- a> ti
responded a heartfelt ‘Amen.’
**♦ + ♦*♦* * ♦ ♦ *>* *
Five years hate passed since that happy moment,
riiotnas \\ ilkins cleared liif* pretty cottage frotn nli
. iictunbranee, aid a happier or more respicted fann
\ does not exist. And Lizzie —that gentle and con*
fithng wile -as she takes that simple paper from tho
drawer, and gazes again and again upon the pledge
it hears, weps tears of joy anew. Were all the
wealth ot the Indies poured out in one glittering,
blinding pile at her foot, and nli the honors of the
world added thereto, she would not, for the whole
countless sum, give in exchange one single word
liom t ,%i pledge that constituted her lludiuul'r
Preten t.
MfiMMJ THE ruvuK.
Bet. John Abbott, the sailor preacher, relates tho
following rood story of one of his converts to Tem
perance :
Mr. Johnson, at the close of a cold water lecture,
intimated that ho must sign the pledge in his own !
way, w hich he did in these words :
“i, William Johnson, pledge myself to drink no
mort intoxicating liquor for one year.”
Some thought he wouldn’t stick three days, others
dinned him a we. k, and a few gave him two wetks; ;
j hut tin-landlord knew him best, ami said he was
• ."tl tuff, In,t nt the end of tin ye. r Bill would he
id s inker. Befiort tht year was quits gone, Mr.
Johnson was asked by Mr. Abbott, “Bill, aint you i
filing to renew tho pledge?” .
“Well, I don't know Jack, hut what I will; I have i
lone pretty well so far; w ill you let me a'gn it again .
my own way ?” .
“O, ys, any way, so that you won’t drink rum.” 1
lie w rites :
1 “I. William Johnson, sign thisp'edgc for nin< Inin ;
•li< ‘1 ami i: ety-nine years, and if living at the end tl
i I Mint time, I intend to take out a lease for life.” c
\ day or two after, Johnson went to sec hit* old
| sndloi I who eyed him as a hawk tloes a chicken.— .(
’ “Oil, landlord !” w hined Bill, accompanied with sun-r
I -lev contortions of the hotly, as if enduring the most
j excruciating torment, “I have such a lump on my side.’ j
! “That's because you have stopped drinking; you
won't live two yenis longer at thi rate.” A
“If I commence th inking, wil the lump go away?”
“Yes. If you don't, you will have anothir juatqi
■nidi a lump on the other side.”
“Do you think so, landlord?” f t .
“I know it: you will have them on your arm,at
hack, breast and head; you will l> covered all over
with lumps.” (
“Well may !■ 1 will,” said Bill. u ,
“Come, Bill,” saiti the landlord, “let’s drink togi th-ui
‘■r,” at the same time pouring the red stutf from ah:
decanter into his glass —gug, gttg, gug. fc,
“No,” said Johnson, “1 can’t, for I have signed them
pledge again.”
“You ain’t though ! You arc a fool.” ai
“Yes, that old sailor coaxed so hard I couldn't ge<er
oir and
“I wi ii the devil had J: old rascal. Well, how.ht
long tlo you go (hi: time?” t)I
“For nine Inititln-d and ninety-rune years,” w hits
pered Bill.
“You won’t live a year.” lt
“Well, if I drink, arc you sure the lump on tin
side will go away?”
“Yes.”
“Well, 1 guess T won’t drink; bore's tho
continued Bill, holding up something with a hundrei
I dollars in it’ “and you say I'll have more such lump
i —that's what I want!”
THE CORPORAL. j r l,
During Me American Revolution, an officer, now
| habited in the military costume, was passing by wher of
a • mall company of soldiers were at work makin.y
some repairs on a small redoubt. The commander,
“fa little squail was giving orders to those who erjrd
, under him, re'ative to a stick of timber which t'icom
wc” i-tideavoriiig to raise to the top of the w orks, abo
The timber went up hard, and on this account thjts
voi.-e of the little great man was often heard in hicoi
; regular voeiferaMous of “ Heave away! there sited
; goer.! heave ho!” |jou
The officer before spoken of stopped his horse whe ho:
h art; <1 nt the place, and seeing the tiruher scarctrus
!• rnoVi and. : It’d Mi • commander why he did nottak,d I
; hold and t ender a little aid. The latter appeared ? lorr
he soiiii-wliiit a-tonishc' 1 , and turning to the uffior*.
w i'ti th authority of au emperor, said ;
“Sir, I am a Corporal.”
You an not, tliough, are you?” said the oftieqave
“I as tot aware of it,” and taking off’ his hat at'ofli
bowing, “1 ask your | anion, Mr. Corporal.” ges,
( pon th ; hi- dismounted frotn his elegant stccseoi
flair.- the bridle over a post, and lifttd till the swe-orat
st oil in drops upon hie forehead When the tiinbj C( j„
ail vat'il to its proper station, turning to tl wrel
mini clothed in brief authority: ian t
“Mr. Corp ini < onimandt-r,” he said, “ when yt
have another such job, and have not men enoug
si .ii for your Command r-in-Chief, and I will coif ltd
and help you a second time.”
The Corporal was thunder struck. It was Wa*l w 'l
nfoiox.
A JAMES t. 111.A1.N,
if PRINTtIt.