Huntingdon Journal

              URIV
"ONE   COUriTRY,    0^E   COI^STITUTION,    ONK    DESTINY."
A.   W.   BEVEDICT   PUOL^SHER    AND   PROPRIETOR.
Vol.   Vr. No. .-JS.]
OF  TUK I
HUNTIN«5>OX   JOURXAL,
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IiaiVTINGDOIV, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY,SEPTKMPER 15, 1841.
[Whole No. 'M8.
AGl^NTS.
FOK
The iiuiilins,ilon ,Foiirnal.
D miel Te igue, Orbisonia; David Ulair Esq. Shade G.i/i; Benj imin L'-iise. .Shirleys¬ burg; Eliel Smith. Esq. Chilcottatoivn; Jus- Entriken. jr. Ceffee y-JuinHiigh Madden, I'.sq. Stiringfield; Dr. S. S. Dewev, Iiir- mingham; jiimes Muvrnvv. Union l''urnace ; JohnSisler. JTiirr/or jV/arAr; James Davis, T'.sq. West toivnship ; D. ll. Mnore. E^q Ei-ankstown; Eph. (ialbreath. Esq. Ifolli- daysbitri.-, Ilcury Nefl". Ale.vanilria; Aarnn Burns, IV/lliani-ihurf;; A. i. Stevvart, Ifnter Street; Wm. Ileed. I''sq. I\lo-ris townsliip-, Solom m Hauler. Aeff's Mill; James Dysart. ATiiith S/irure Creek; Wm. Murray, F.sq. Gr.iysvilte; John Crnm. Manor Hill; Jas. E, S.ew.u'l. Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler Mill Creek.
POETIIY.
THE IDLER IN FRANCE. , phere which sent some lo their sick cham-
[^Exiracts Irom Lady BUsslngton's /u/e j bers, and all ofthe miseries peculiar lo
'  s. many of thoso vvho vvere so iinpru- j
From the Eric GazLile. THE LOSS OF THE EI4IE. A mournful vuice frum Erie's wave Comes pealing on the startled ear. And notes of deep and solem'ii gloum Are borne upon the yielding uir; Oriet 's silent requiem lliats around. And every heart in sorrow's drowned.
That gallant bark, like thing of lif-.-. Came bounding o'er the plastic wave. But oh! there came a fearful change. When nought of human power could save— While round them waves a '.'incf pall. And dire dismay tills every soul.
Then high above the roaring sur.i;e 'The .aitguish'd cry of keen despair Bursts for'li like nature's purling groan, From those whose hapless lot ivus there; 'Then bleeding pity hovered near. And o'er them dropp'd the scalding tear.
But soon the waves encircle all Beneath theircnld and damp einbrac?. And beauty, pride, and talent rare, I,ie in their silent resting place.—
While mournful dirges round them tell.
Anil Ocean's vuice their funeral knell!
Sure in the midst cf buoyant life. We're circled roun-l by vcngtful dealh, Man's but a shadow—life u dream. And feeble asthe itophyr's breath,— Whilst warning notes cry from the flood,' "Preparc,"0 man! "to meet thy (ind!" Aluekt. Fuirvievv, Aug. 17, 18-41.
From the Boston Post. PASSING   AWAY.
The old battle-board,  with its thundering
sound, Whicii showered eyery Monday the  soap
suds around; The mop liundle carved from the bass-wood
tree. And the raspberry leaves that vvere steeped
for tea— They kave our sight, and seem to say. Passing away—passing avvay.
The pudding stick, loo,   which our grand- sires made- The broom which they peeled  in the birch
tree's shade— The distafF 's buz, und the old quill wheel— The thump of the loom, and the twirl uf the reel— You find them rarely, and then Ihcy say Passing away—passing away.
The old trundlc-bcd, wliich  rolled on  the
floor— The null-fastened button which held fast the
door— 'The fork  that vvas stuck in the window lo
keep The rogues wiihout, that the honest might
sletp— Like the star of empire, they westward
stray; Passing avvay—p' ss nj; away.
HoTk.-]
CuNVF.nsATtoN l.V FiiANCK. Is an art suc¬ cessfully studied; to excel in which, Hotjon- ly much natural talent is required, but great fluency and u happy chuice uf words arc in¬ dispensable. Nu one in Parisian society speaks ill, and mauy possess a readiness it wit, liiiil u facility for turning it t'l nceount, that 1 have never seen txeniplili?d in women uf other countries.
.\ l''i'eiichwom;.ii talks well on every sub- j'jct, frnm tlioic of the most grave pu'litical impnrtunce, lo the deniierc mode. Her tal¬ ent iu this art is daily exercised, and con.se- quenlly bed.mes perfected; while the En- glibhwoman, wilh more various and solid at¬ tainments, rarely, if ever, arrives at the ease and self-cnniidenci; vvhicii wcmld enable her In bring the treasures with which licr mind is stored into pluy. S> generally is the art nf cunversulion cultivated 111 France, that even tli'ise vvith abilities that rise nnt beyond midincrity can lake theii p.irts in it, nut'on¬ ly without exp'ising the poverty uf their in¬ tellects, but even wilh a shuw of talent that imposes nn struugcr.s.
An Englishwoman, more concentrated in her feelings us well as in her pursuits, seldom devotes the lime given by Frenchwomen lo the hupcificitil I'.cquibilion of a versutiliiy nf knowledge, which, though it enables them tu cnnverse fluently on vurious tul)j'..'c;s, s/it- vvould dread entering on unless vvell versed iu. My fair compatriots huve cunsequently fewer topics, even if they had iquul talent, tn cnnverse on; su that the esprit styled par e:ieellence, I'ei-prit L-miiiemmeiit Erancais, 'u precisely that lo vvhich vve can urtethe few¬ est iii-etensions.
This dnes imt. however, dispose me to de¬ preciate a tiilent, or un art, I'nr an art it may be culled, that renders sucitty in Fraii'-.e nnt only so brilliant, but so a'greable, and wliich is attended vvith the saliilary effect of banishing Ihe ill-natured observalions and periioniil remurks wl i.li tuo often supply the place nf more harmless topics with u.';,
Tuf. Effects of Kkvoi.ution—Much usi (hplni-c snme- nftlie coiLSi quences of the Itevolutinn in France, and the ali-ucities by which it vvas stained, it is impossible nnt to admit the Rreut and salutary change effec¬ ted in the habits and feelings nf the people since that evci.t. Who cm live on terms of intimacy with the French wiihrut being struck by the dilTerenre bitween these of our time, and those cf vvhom wc have re.ad previously lo that rpnch.' 'The system of cducutinn is tntully dilF r.nt. 'Fhe habits of domestic life are wholly changed. 'The re¬ lations between husband and wife, and pa¬ rents and children, have assnmcd another character, by v.-liich the bends uf alFectinn aiy^lUil'ial dependence are drawn more clusely together; and home, sweet home, the focus o duni?stic love, said lu huvc been once an unknown bicssing. at lenst among the haute noblesse, is now endeared by the dischurge of reciprocal duties and warm sympathies.
French and Engi.i?h Rkrvants.—A French master and mistress issue their or¬ ders to their domestics with much more fa¬ miliarity than the English do; take a lively interest" in their welfare and happiness; ad¬ vise lliem abuut their private cnncerns; in¬ quire inlo the cause of any depression of spirits, or symptom of ill Iiealtli they may observe, and make Ihcmselves ncquainled with the circumstances of these! in their es¬ tablishment.
This system lessens the distance main¬ tained by master und sei vants. but dues not really diminish the respect entertained by the litter toward their employer.', who gen¬ erally find nround tlu-m humble fritnds, in¬ stead nf. as vvith us, cold and calculating de¬ pendents, vvho repay our hauteur by a total indifference to our interests, and. wiiile evin- ciii,.!; all the external appearance ufiii-nfcund i-csp.^ct. cntertuiu little of the true feeling of it in t'.uir musters.
'Treating nur servants ns ifthey were au¬ tomatons created solely fnr our u.se. and vvho. being paid a certain remuneration fnr their services have no claim on us for kindness or sympaihy is a .sy.stem vrry injurious to their morals and our own interests, and re¬ quires an umelioration.
Emeutss.—Of one thing I am convin. ced. and that is, that no suvereiKii, vvliat- ever niay be his merits, can long remain pnpular'iii France; anil that no piogperi- ty, lio\»ever brilliant, con prevent the people from those cmeules into vvhich lleir excitable temperaments, rather lhan any real cause fur discontent, hurry them.— 'These emeutes, tuo, are less dangerous than vve are led to think. 'Tlicy are safe¬ ty-valves by which the exuberant spirits of the French pi.-nple escape; and tlieir national vanity being satisfied vvith tlie the display of their force, suun subside in¬ lo tranquillily, if not aroused inlo pru¬ lracled violence bj unwise demunstra- tions of coercion.
dent as to venture abroad. 'The snow, in-1 stead of being swept away, is |)iled np on each side of tin; streets, forming a wall that iiicre.ises the glum.i and chilliness that reigns around. 'The fogs, tou, rise from the Seine, and Iiover over the li;iianips Klysc-es and streets ailjurent to it. rendering a passage through them .-. service of danger.
MlLITAUV .'\l'I"KAUA?,-CEflP PAItlStAMS.—
lam always struck m a crowd in Paris vvith tiiU soldier like air of its male popu¬ lation; ancl tills air does nut seem tlie re¬ sult of study, but it sits as naturally on them as docs the look, half Tierce, half mucking, that accompanies it. 'There is sometl ing in the nature of a Frenchman that eiialiles hiin to become a suldier in loss time than is usually necessary lo ren¬ der the natives of other countries au fait in tlie routine uf duty, just as he learns to dance vvell in a quarter of the time requi¬ red to teach them io go through a simple measure.
'The E'nperor Napoleon quickly obser¬ ved this peculiar predisposition toa mili¬ tary life in his subjects, and took advan¬ tage uf it lo fuol Ihem to the tup ot tlieir heiit. The victories achieved beneath his banner refiect scarcely less honor on them lhan on him, and the memory of thetn as¬ sociates his name in their hearts bv the strongest bonds of sympaihy that can bind a Frenchman—the luve ot glory. A sense of duty, high discipline, and true courage, influence out soldiers in the dis¬ charge of their calling. 'They ara proud of their country and of their regiment, forthe honur of which they nt-e ready to light uhto their death; but a Frrn^liinan, though proud ofhis counlry and his regi¬ ment, is still more pruud uf his individilal self, and believing that all eyes are upun him, acts asif his singlcarm could accom¬ plish that vvhich only soldiers en masie can achieve.
Mrs. Ellis's Summer .and Winter in the Py¬ renees. Fjmai.e Labor in Franck.—In this part of Fiance the women do all the work. Even on their vvay lo market vve see them cariying un thuir heads the heaviest bur¬ dens, and it is said they can carry as much as 150 pouiicls ; while the men go swaggering alung vvith nothing but a stick. It vvould be an eaiier task to enumerate I the kinds of lab.ir in which women arc not emiiloyed than those in which they are. In the cuunlry lliey aro to be seen every day at this season of the year ploughing and harrowing, .spreading and carting manure ; at uther seasons inuw- ing, reaping, and carryinit the h ly home on iheir heads ; while in the maiket, we find them selling their corn, ami every other produce uf their farms. In the towns, besidas being employed in sweep ing the streets and cleaning the lamps, they act as laborers to the paviors, brick¬ layers, and stone-masons, und carry on the vvork of gla/.iers, and alirost every other duty, botli in doors and out, except that of serving as soldiers. It may readily be supposed lh.it the women sull'er much in their appearance from such habits ufhard labor nnd constant exposure to tho weath¬ er. 'The consequence is, they look old before middle life, and, in real old age, the loss oftheir teeth, their naturally hard features ancl coiiiplc-xions dry, IcHlhern. anil all over vvrir.klei^<tnbine to render them hideous in the flBrcme. Still they seem lo ei,joy life, especially ns ihey go home from markcl, munching their dry bread or roasted clicsliiuts alung the road, and chatting in groups, about the busi¬ ness of the duy. Vet I must confess, when I hnve seen one of these old women riding like a man, at hiinl lauchiag trot, I have longed to place her in a comlortable arm chair by the fire-.side of an Knglish cottage, to put a neat cap upon her head, and a Hible in her hand, and so leave her to puss the reinainder of hor days in peace.
Wl,\TKR  IN  Pakis.—Nolh:
can  be
IxTKiiF.sTiNfiTOTiiF. OtitLS.—Thc Bos¬ ton Fust gives the pruceedings ufa meet¬ ing of tho young men of that eity. called together for llie purpose of conmilering why so many ofth'j fair aru afllicted vvith feeble health, and have  such   pale   faces
more'(irVary"an(i 'cii eer less" "than the wei- ('^'^''^ iinatiitiiois ijecisiun ol  the  meetiiiff
ther; and a second winter'j residence at i'.iris has convinced me that London is infinitelji'prelfera^e at this season, except to ihoscrwho enljsider gaiety an equiva¬ lent for comfort. 'The nei^ligence and birj management of the persons whose du¬ tv it is to remove the snow or mud from the streets, render then, not only nearly impassable fur pedestrians, but exceeding, ly disagreeable to those who have carria¬ ges.
Previously to the heavy fall of snow that occurred a week agi. and which still encumbers thc streets, a succession of wet days occasioned an accumulation of Imiid that gave furth most unsavory odors, and l«nt a damp chillness to tha atao^
vvas, that these elTects were produced by wearing stays, vvli,nifpupon a yuung philaii- thruphist nfi'ercd a resolution, pledging the meeting to have nothing to do vvilh any young ludy who is in the hubit of wearing " women killers," A coumittee of iiives- ttgitiun vvus appointed, vvhuse duty it is to ascertain tiie f.ict before any of the niembers pup. the question to a young lady. 'The mode of discoverning it, is not incii- cated.but from the well known gallantry anil good behavior of the Bu'Jton boys, it is to be presumed that the proceediii'.; will be cliaracteri/.ed by the utmost delicacy. 'I'ha Society is called "'The lloston Young Men's Antl   Stay Lacing Society."--!/
" Will you buy my Iiowers?" said a neat looking little girl, addressing hersell to a young lady in Chesnut, and holding out at the same time a small basket con¬ taining some roses. "They are newly blown and fresh ; buy a ruse for your hair. Miss—here's one that vvill look delightlul twined among those pretty locks.
" Not a rose, my child," said thc lady, " there are thorns among tlieai ; but I'll take this llower, it looks so lovely and sweet; oh, its a Forget-ine-not ?"
" Panlon me Miss," replied the child, 'that llower is engaged.'
" 'To wlioni ?"
" T'J master Charles Lelair.I."
"Charles Lelaml indeed," said the lady " vvell but there's anuther; what a beautiful jiair,"
" 'They nre twin flowers ; they are both for thut geiitUman," said the little girl.
"Oh a tig lur him." said the young lady ; but an arch smile played upon her cheek as she said it ; something sparkled in her beautilul (lark eye, that told a talc her lips relused tu utter, while she inge¬ niously marked both ol the favorite lluw- ers. und returned them to. the basket; Ihenchosiuga little bunch uf rases she walked hume, leaving the llower girl to visit the rest uf her cuslomers.
Love is impatient, and Harriet counted the tediuus iiiiniites as she sat at the win¬ dow and listened for the vvell known rap. The clock struck nine, ami yet Leland did not appear; she thuught she had been neg- lecled uf latc, but Then the flowers he knevv they vvere favorites ot hers, and she thuught to recieve them Irom his hands, and hear him aay Harriet, forget me nut : vvoiilil be a svveet afoueiiieiit lur any litlle otrence past. Uut once the iliouglit stule over her busoin, p'..'rliaps they arc destined for another.' She banished it v.'ith a sigh, and it had scarcely escaped her, ere Charles Leland entered. She rose to re¬ ceive him, and he gently look her hand; " .\ccept," said he, " my humble oD'eriiig, & forget me''—Harriet interrupted hiin as he attempted to place a single Howcr in her busuni-»-'vvhere is the otuer,' suid she, playlullj putting back his hand. A m'lmrnls silence ensued. Charles ap¬ peared embarrassed, & Harriet recollect¬ ed herself, blushed deeply, and turned OlT; but the flower vvas not offered again, and Charles had only sa'ii], forge! me.
'I his could not have been ull intended, but tie mutual reserve rendered the re¬ mainder ul the evening cold, formal, in¬ sipid ; and when Leland touk his leave, Harriet,  felt more than ever dissatisfied.
As il was nut yet lale in evening, she resolved to(lissi|a'e the melanl.hnly that this little interview in spite of all her ef¬ forts to laugh it oH', left her mind, by spemliii;; a few moments at a neighbor's whose three daughters Wf.rc her most in- timute comp.miuns.
'The youngest of these ladies was a gsy and interesting gill, and was lo meet and welcome her friend; but she held out her hiiiicl Harriet discovered a liitle fluvvsr in it : it was a "Forget-me not ;"6he examin-, ed it; it was Lelund's ,- the mark she hud | made upon it when she took it from the basket ul the flower girl vvas there. 'This vvas at the moment ofan unfortunate dis¬ covery. She had heard that Charles fre¬ quently visited this fumily, and that he really paid attention to June ,- but she had never belore believed it, and now she shuddered at the idea ot admitting that for once rumor told thc truth.
" Where did you get tliat pretty flower Jane?" suid she.
"Oh, a beau to be sure," said Jsne archly ; " dont yuu see —Furgetme-nut," as .she took back the flower. "I should not like to tell where 1 got it, I'll vyear it in my bo5()m. come sing—
" I'll dearly luve that pretlv llower.
For his o',vii sake vvho bade me keep it,
I'll wear it in my bosom's ' "
" Hush, Jane," said Harriet, interrupt¬ ing her " my head aches; and your singing distracts me."
" All it's your liearl," said Jano, "or you would not look so dull."
" Well if it is my heart," said Harriet asslie turned to conceal her tears, ''it does not become a friend to trifle with if."
She intended to eonvey a double mean¬ ing to thi.s reply ; but it is nut taken, and as soon as possible site returned home.
A sleepless ni:;!U lollp'.ved and the more she iliouglit about it the more she felt.
She had engaged her hand to Leland six months belure; the time appuinted for the union appruaclied fnst ; and he acted thus? "II he vv.ints to oe freed from the engagement," said she to herself, "1 will givehim no trouble;" and she sat down and wrote requesting him no trou¬ ble;" ancl she sat down and wrote re¬ questing llim to discontinue his visits. She wept over it in a Hood of tears j but continued resolute, until she had^ de¬ spatched the nute to his residence. 'Then she repented of if, and then again reason¬ ed herself into the belief that she ha'l act¬ ed riglit. She wailed forthe result, not without many anxiously cherished hopes that he  would  tall  fur an   explanation.
Hut she only learned that the note vvas delivered into his hands ; and in sbout a month he sailed for England.—'This vvas and end to the matter. Ciiarles went in¬ to business al Liverpool, but never mur¬ ried. and Harriet remained single, devot¬ ing her life to the care ol her aged mother and ministering to the wants of the poor and ilistressed-around  her-
Abuut forty yeats after Leland left Philadelphia, Harriet paid a visit to New York, dj- dining in a large company one day, an old geiuletiinn who seemed was a bachelor, being called upon to defend the fraternity lo which he belonged from the aspirities of some of the younger and more lortunate part ol the company, told a sloiy about .Philadelphia, ti courtship and engagement, which he |_alleged was broken oil'by his'caprieious mistress, for noulher reason than his ofl'ering her a swcetnevv blown Foi-get-me not, s.'x weeks belore she was to have been his wife.
" Uut was there no other cause 7" asked Harriet, vvho sat nearly opposite the stranger, and eyed him/vith intense curi- oMiy.
" None to my knowledge, as Heaven is my vvitnes.s."
'Then what did you do 'villi the olher flower? siiid Harriet; the stranger ga'/.ed in astonishment. It was Leland himself; and he recoj;iii'^e(l his Harriet, though ulinost hulf .1 century had passed since Ihey had met, and the mischief made by the twin llowew waa ,all explained, and might have been'frirty years belure, had Charles said he had lost one of the For- get-ina nots, or had Jane said she had found il.
'The old couple never married; hul they corresponded coiisUntly al'lervvaidi, and I always thuughl Harriet luuked happier alter this mectiiig than ever she did be¬ fore.
Now I have only to sny at the conclu¬ sion of my story, to the juvenile reader, never let an attachment be abruptly brok¬ en olf; lel an interview and a candid ex¬ planation follow every misunderstanding. For the tenderest and' most valuable af¬ fections when won, vvill be the easiest wounded, and believe me, there is much trulh in Tom Moore's sentiments ;
" .\ something light as air—a look ;
A wui-d unkind, or wrongly taken—
'The love thut tempest never shook,
A breath—a touch has shaken." or as Ujion says,
'There is a grief, that cannot teel !
'That leaves a wound, that will not heal ? ,
From V.iudienee—Paris Journul.
A   MODKIW   SIREN,    OR   LIVING
MERMAJD.
EXTKAOIiri.VAIlV STORV 0? CRUELTY.
'The fullovving "cock and bull" storv, vvhich. as the /Imerican says, is "extraor¬ dinary il true." appears in one of the Pa¬ risian Journals:
'The Sirens, those supernatural crea¬ tions—hall woman nml half fish—owe their existence to that fruitful source of wonders, fabulous history. 'They were, according to this authority, the daughters of the river Ache Ions and the muse Calli¬ ope; their naines were Partlienope. Leu-i colha, and Ligeia. These beautiful di¬ vinities having in their pride dared to de> Iy the Guddesses of Olympus and the Muses of Parnassus, lost their wings as a punishment, and relired into the deserts of Sicily and Campania. 'Those who have chosen to moraii'/.e upon this fable. asscit that Ihc Sirens wv.e nothing better lhan courle'/.ans, vvho dwelt near the sea sliore in Sicily, and whn, by their volup¬ tuous altractioiis, so fascinated all who passed, that ihey utterly forgot their oc¬ cupations and lost their way. 'They add moreover, that the names and number of the three Sirens were founded upun the tripple pleasure of iIk; senses,—music, love, and wine. From this idea they have derived thc elymulugv-ol thu word Siren — namely, from tha Greek work sciru, a chain—by which it is signified Ihat their charms wore as a chain about those who catue vvithin their inlluence.
'Tlie list great occasion on which the Sirens appeared on the scene, was vvhen the sage Ulysses made his escape from them—thanks tothe counsels of Circe.— The Sirens, seeing thc learned warriur es¬ cape ihem, vvere so chagrined that they plunged into the ocean and were never seen more; such is the assertion of injtho- iogical wriler.s. Hut thia is a mistake; they have once more appeared. M. .'Vnic- (Ire Tichot, thr> learned editor of the Revue Britaniiique, has published nn article upun the S.rcns, vvhich would alone suffice tu re-establish the fact of their existence and their powers in our own days. The story is as follows :
'i'uvvards the end uf thc month of Feb-" ruary last, an F.n;;lishman, named Hud¬ son, took up his re.aidence at Rome, near the Porlii die Popolo, and announced in the Diitrio di Roma, the Gazelle of Ihe Holy City, thathe had a most extraordi¬ nary object for public exhibition—in a word, no less rare an object than a Siren! On thc appearance of this annouticcnient. all thc savans of Rome hastened to visit
the rooms of Mr. Hudson—and surprising asit may sceui, every one came away vvitii a full convictiun of the buna fide character of the exhibition—a most char¬ ming creatuie, half wuman and half fish, was found reclining in an immense bath; her head vvas adorned with long black locks, among vvhicii marine plants appear¬ ed to grow ; her face was charming, and her features perfectly regular; but in ther pluce of a neck she appeared to have a sort of collar of scales, and the "creature" terminated in an immense fish tail, whicb floated in the water with all the vitality of a real natural fish!
But eette ozarre creature spoke not a word; ever and anon she would open her mouth as if*kb»ut tu speak and then in-.« stantly plunge into the vvater. It will be ' readily conceived that such an exhibition exciled lively curiosity among all tha Wonder-loving world. 'The Prince Bor- ghese, the Due de Bordeaux, Couut Brig- geis, and Don Sebastinado d'Alvar, of Spain, were among those who satisfied themselves that " it" was alive and en bonne sante. Thc people shared the curi* osity of the great, and manifested even a larger share of Enthusiasm, as well as a strong desire to penetrate into the inyster ries olthe existence ot Zevelar, (the name which Hudson had given to his monster) and one of the servants of the hotel gli¬ ded unperceived inio the principal room occupied by him. concealed himsell in the fire place, nnd waited the reeult of his voyage of discovery. He had not been there long when he saw Hudson come into the room, dragging after him by the hair of the head, the poor Zevelar. The poor Siren was dripping wet. and the big tears rolled from her sorrowful^'.es; she walked upright, and thc fish's stin. which formed tlu luwer extremity, dragi^ed alung tiie ground. She threw herself on the floor, ancl cried out in perfectly intelligible En¬ glish, "Oh, pity : pity! lor mercy's sake, pity! pity!"—'The servant, who did not understajid the English language Ihought thsiishe spoke in her "langite maritime." The fellow then began to beat her. upon which she exclaimecl, "Spare my life, oh, God! and I obey!" No longer able t* bear the frightful spectacle, the servant seized the first opportunity to steal away, ancl recounted all he had seen. His story was the means of awakening the atlenlion of the authorities, and Doctor Ainarati was sent to visit the pretended divinity of the vvater.J. 'The Dictor soon discovered thai the Siren was. in point of fact none other than a young woman twenty years of age. whose mind had given way under the cruel treatment which she had expe¬ rienced at thc hands other inhuman mas¬ ter, ard he fuund that the lish lail and the^ scaly neck-piece were artfully fastened on with flesh colored silk. On her body he discovered the bloud-stained marks of punishment which she had received from Farouche Hudson. He was immeiliatelj arrested and thrown into prison, and before the tribunal he confessed that he had taken his "Sire" on the banks of the Thames; that it was in fact, a young woman whom he had fitted with a tail, and exhibited merely lor the sake ofmaking money.
'The young woman, whose real namo turned out lo be JaneSoane, was introdu¬ ced, and desciibed her sull'erings from the immersion. She sull'ered greatly from the cold, and all her teeth, she said, had fallen out from the cHects.
President —How was it that you did not, when persons came too see you, make knovvn the cruelties which were practiced on you?
Jane Soane—Oh no. I dared nol. If I openeed my mouth, he pulled the cord immediately.
Pio'sident—What cord?
Jare Soane (pointing to her neck)—It was fastened here under the scales. If I attempted to speak he pulled the cord, and I was plunged under the wuter in an instant.    (Expressions of indignation.)
'The court sentenced Hudsun tu impris¬ onment  for  life.    He heard his e.iitence with a smile and said, "Qui vivra vcrra.'" =a 1-1—11——T
" What do you sit so close to ni-j lor?" inquired a young girl ot a youth who had felt the powers other attractions,
" Why. because I love you."
" Oh ! what do you love me for I"
" Why. because you are so pretty."
" La. sir, why I'm not so purty, {here** Polly Ricker and Susan Applebury are a heap putier gals than me," drawled tho fair one.
"I)—lithe Ricker's and Applebury't^ they've got no particular parts, when you're as smooth as a pine pule peeled."
" I'm tolerably round."
The next day they were married.
A Haud Hit.—"If 1 were so unlucky,* said an oflicer, 'as to have a stupid son, I would certainly make liim a parson.' A clergyman who was in thc company, calm¬ ly replied, 'Vou think dilTerently, sir, from your father.'
f understand said a goud deacon to his neighbor that you ure becoming a hard dflnl'or. 'That IS a slander, replied lh« neighbor, for no man can drink easier.