Pittston Gazette and Susquehanna Anthracite Journal

              gHMBMEM—3BC—g3»B»gg ■ M1 'I' " ! 11 !." L ,' , ■ 1 11 up  f AND SUSQUEHANNA ANTHRACITE JOURNAL. 51 Wtoklij J(}fU!3ji8jier-( Dfonfrii fa $ltm, fifmifittt, tynlitiw,tfre BlerrnnfUr, fining, BlrrljnmraJ, imit %mi(fnrnl 3n\tm\n af tlje Cnmitrq,3nstnirtian, fa.')~€m Dnllnrs ptr itanm, VOLUME 4.--NUMBER 14. PITTSTON, PA., FRIDAY. DECEMBER 2, 1853. WHOLE NUMBER 170. THE PITTSTON GAZETIE, A Modern Cinolnnatus. Tlio next thing was the production of two smoking tumblers ol hot rum-toddy, the very sight o( which, in Seth'* present situation, would have mode the hair stand erect on his head, had It not been well oiled and kept down by the butter. "Peter, ain't you ashamed 1" said his wile, who stood near the dressei, apparently desirous of escaping observation. "No, I ain't.'* knew he wouldn't talk if he discovered who I Was. will let you be, if ihey can. Perhapp you are a churchman ?" And as lo luck in the mackerel fishery, do you calcuIaiA to be so Incky as for them to come to you, or are you too lazy to eo to them ? There ain't » single vessel gone from this coast yet, folks are so tarnal sleepy ; and I saw with my own eves thirty six sail ol Innkee finhcrmen, this blessed c ay, one-half returnin' deep loaded, and the other goiu' on the second trip. Some folks are too lazy lo live." 1 hat are a natcial fact," said his wife again, who, after all, sef-med determined to have her own way a little, as well aa her hutband. "No, I don,t hold to them either, their ministers are too proud ; they talk down to you like as you onderstood a little common English, but don't toKe you up to them, do you comprehend ?" 8tl)(|iiclinna AHtliracltc JouiuaJ AND In a long and pleasant conversation recently with a distinguished friend, whose miiid is rioi will) the recollections of the past, we gathered the following interesting incidents: '• Samuel!" said he, "I knew a man oncet of that name. He was a Jew. He used to noma from Meremschi, and traded here in jaw'lrv." "Well, then, you ought to be." '•Friend,'" sais I, (for if I blow'a coal, I never blow up contention,) "friend," sais I, (and I took no notice ol what he said, fori was determined to make him talk in spite ol himself. I never see the man yet, where I had the chance, that I couldn': draw him out, as easy as nailrod iron,)— "friend," sais I, "will you try a cigar? it's a first chop article." PUBLISHED WEEKLY BV GEORGE M. RICH ART. ''Seth, I'll give you a toast, and you can butter it your»eIf,', said the storekeeper, yet with such an air ol consummate simplicity that poor Seth still believed himsell unsuspected. "Seth, here's lo a Chrietmas goose—o Christmas goose well roasted and basted—eh ? I tell you, Seth, it's the greatest eating in creation. And don't you never use common cooking butter to baste it with. Fresh pound butter, such as you see on that shell yonder, is the only proper thing in nature to baste a goose with. Come, take your butter—I mean, Seth, toke vour toddy." "I've heard of him," said I; Samuel the Jew. But don't you know that a man may have an everlastin' long beard like you, or be called Samuel like me, and vei neither of us be Jews. I never had but lour jewels in my life, and them my lather gave nie. They have made my fortin. "Exactly," sais 1, "I take j but help yourself to a little of that are old particular Cogniac, for talking is dry work. Exaotly, but you don't comprehend. You couldn't ondersiand plain English if you was to die for ft. If you was lo go to Yorkshire, or Somersetshire, or Cornwall, or any ol them counties where plain English is spokan, you could n,t nnderstand ofie4word of it, any more nor If it was French. Plain English aint plain at all; it's like common sense, the most oncomnon thing in the world. And if thev was to lake you up to them, it would be half Lat in and Greek, and you couldn't comprehend that} and as for pride, aint there a little mile or morsel of thai in your not ackuowledgin' a superior f" "Tfiat are a fact," said his wife, "I am a churchwoman myself; and I olten tell him it aint the parson that's proud, but him." OSict m.l .«C■»/ it'i* Street, Micond story of the "Long Store" of H inter 4- «C«D«• At the session or the South Carolina Legislature in 1M14. the members were perplexed for a suitable mail to elect as Governor. The difficulty did not raise from any scarcity of candidates, for then, us now, men weta ambitious, but from a want of the right sort of man. The matter became worse as the time drew on, and the election of some objectionable candidate seemed inevitublo- One day, however, as several ol ilxm were conversing upon the matter, Judge O'Neal, then a young man, present by invitation, said : ''Gentlemen, why no; eject Gen. David R. Williams ?" David R. Wiilums ! hi's our man!—he's the man !" they all clclnimed, as thev all began to scatter lo tell the news. The day of election caine on and Gen. William* was elected by a liuge vote, A messenger was at once disputched with a carefully prepared letter to inform the General w his ciectiou, rCquesting tils acceptance, and hoping he would nan e the duy on which he would lake the uccustomed oath of office. Alier u iorg, hard ride, the messenger stopped at the General's res idencc, in Marlborough District, we believe, and inquired if lie was in. He was told tl.at Mr. Williums was over at his pluntat.0:1. The gentleman said he would ride ever, as he hud a note to deliver to linn as soon as possible. When about half way ho met a fine-looking man, dress, ed in plain home spun, and driving a team of mules.—"Am I on the road to the plantation of General Williams ?" asked the messenger. "Yes, sir; it is a mile lartli- Thk "Gazette t Jorrs»t" i« publUhrd eieryFVMsy, p«r nnniira. jwolW-r..;, FUtj fonts will III' dimmed If not paid willilll llie Jfctr- No naiHir will !»• ill«eC"Stl"«od "" srwaragw are paid m insortml conspicjottsj) at Oslt ftol.. 1 audit i*iiiuirti of riMirlUL-n llnuS fftrlkreu liwdloul H'-pZ'tirynv* Cskt. oddllklrtaVfcrovcrysiAwq«Mi iiiAnrtioti. A liberal d«4uctton lo those wtiosdvortlss joi"\Vo*t™.—w'connected will.ourI'slabllshrai-nt a well -u'locted nmtorlowi't Ctf Jos I VPS * 11 it'll Willi fU Hi** ! toexecute, In tlu, "Satesl styh. -very «rteiy CDr printing.* •• 'Master Samuel,' said he, (I came ve. ry near lettin' ths cat out of the bag by sayiu' Sam.) 'I have four jewels for you.' "No ; I don't smoke them," lie said ; "I can't afford them." ' V\ oman, said he, imploringly, finding the current against him, "now do hold your tongue, will you ?" "No, 1 wont hold my tongue," she r»- plied, with spirit; '"I have as good a right lo talk as you have. Oh, wife 1 oh, husband ! said she, "the gentleman talks sense, and you know it." To preserve the peace, I said, "I wonder w hat keeps ElJad Nickerson so long 1't and then I took out my watch, and pretend ded to look puzzled, "if he don't come to me soon," sais I, "I must go to him, that's a fact. But what on airth had either Conservatives or Liberals to do with either the weavel, the rot, or the run offish 1" "Well, it made my eyes twinkle, "Well, here's a fig of best Varginny tobacky. You don't often see the like in these parts ; take that." «' 'Now,' thinks I, 'won't I make the gals itare. What might ihey be like, sir ?'said POETRY. He held out his hand without speakin' a word, half ashamed to refuse, and half unwiltili' to accept it. and I dropt it io. Poor Seth now began to smoke as well as to melt, and his mouth was as hermetically sealed up as though lie hail been born dumb. Streak oiler streak of the butter came pouring from under his hat, and his handkerchief was alreadv soaked with the " 'Why,' sais he, 'first, rise early ; sec. ondly, work hard; thirdly, be frugal ; fourthly, pay as you go.' Heavens and airth I how disappointed I was. "Ain't that a nice story, my little boy ?" lor he had got interested, and had come close to me. The Cot Beneath the Hill "And now," sais 1, "friend, I must be a movin. Good.bye. I'm obliged to you ;or the use of III t coal, lor l left my fireworks behind." And I and went to the door, to intercept the hoy, so that he mightn't give my name ; for I am well known on the Shrlbuir.e coast, having set up a clock in every house in the country, almost* We met at the :hreshold. There is no spot «o dear to me Beneath the Heaven's blue canopy, As our lone cot beneath the hill, With nne-clad porch and dancing rill; Along whos«; banks a child I strolled, Listening to catch the talu it told. "Dreodful cold night this," said the p rocer. W hy, Seth, you seem warm. Why don't you take jour hat ofT; here, let me your hut one side." "No !" exclaimed poor Seth at last, with a spasmodic effort to get his tongue loose, and clapping both hunds upon his hat, "no, 1 iritis' go ; let me out, I ain't well ; lei overflow "Yes, sir, it is. "Well, it's almost as pretty as you be. But never forget it, they will make you o man, as they have me. 'Do you tall them jewels, father?' said I. No flowers were of so gay a hue As those which on its margin grew— The bird's song nowhere half so sweet— Spring, with its light and fairy feet, Comes soonest to this lovely dell, With sweet wild fljwers I love so well. "Mother," said he, "will you hold your tongue? Because if you wont, you had better leave the rorm. You don't know what you are a-talking about." '•Well, not exactly all mixed up that way," said he ; '-but added up, they are too much lo stand. There is no hope lor a poor man, but to lie down and die." "Mr. Nickerson," said he, "will be here torectly, sir." "'Yes, I do,' said he ; 'and worth more, too, than all the gewgaws ol stones, glass beads called brilliants, and gold settin's in the world.' "All right, my lad. Now. here's the half dollar you aimed. You see how easy money is to bo aimed by them that's wil liu' to work. You'ro a smart lad, and would make a smart man. if you had a chance. Now, cross over ibat neck ; under '.hat bank is a boat. Tell them that's in it to hold on there for me ; and do you wail till 1 come, and I will give you a quarter dollar more." "Come," sais I, "go on ; for thfre is nntllin next to work, I lnv» so muoh »C■ talk . By work you gel money, by talk tvi gel knowledge " "It would be bt-ner for their widders,'' said I, "if one-half of'em did." The hills are all so trca and green, With brooklets jir.ttiling on between, Through qu'Ht vales and woodlands ilccp, Where misty suntaains »elcloni creep, Beyond whose wavfnj brandies high Blue mountains tower towards the sky. A cataract was now pouring down the fellow's face, cooking his clothes, and sliding do« n Ins body info liis very beots, so iliat he was literally in a perfect bath of oil. me go." "No, I am no Jew." "bo sny 1,'' said his spouse, who seemed to t'link there might be some h pa then. "Well, hut what have politicians done 1" "Done !" said he; "why, done nothin', or done things brown. Did n't the Conservativos appoint tnat con8aitcd nincumpooj) ami jackass, JVlr. R der Kitcuin, to lay out the road-money right in Iront of my door, year after year? War n't that enough to raise iho dander of a Quaker? And then, artcr I had turned tail, and »o-ted for lha Radicals, and fit and got licked awluj, they wouldn't appoint me hog. reave." "Well, arter all this palaver," said old Slick in-the-muri, "what are you arter V "Well, ihe Methodist preachers arc as proud as the church parsons, aud better paid,' said he. ' I'm arter another coal of fire," said I, "to light a fresh cigar with. For goodness gracious sake don't grudge me that. Give me a light, and if you don't, you may go to the devil, and I will go to Texas." "Peter ! Peter !" said his wife, risin' up, "So much better for you," said I, the y want the less from you " '•Want, u it?" said he. "Why they all wants somethin' or another. There was a Latter-Day Saint came here last Sabbath month from the Cape to preach. Thev say he is a great wracksr, helps the pior peoples things ashore, and lei* the owners swim for it. Well, bis horse was as fat as a seal, and shined in the sun so as to put your eyes out." 'for A merry gruup wore with ine there, Brothersanil Mat':" young anil fair; llupp) were we tlmt whole day long, With lively jest and plcusunt songj And I, the youngest in the nest, Wag loved liy all, by all caressed. "Well, pood night, Sclh, if you will go," paid the hti-norous Vermontcr; adding, as Seth yot into the road, "Neighbor, I reckon the fun I've had out of you is worth ninepence so I shan't charge you for that pound of butler." "Ye*, sir," said the boy, all auimation, and wan going to start oil' again, when 1 er on," was the rr-ply. "Is the Geneial at home ?" "No, sir." "Where is tie?" "l am Gen. Williams." "You Gen. Da vid 11. Willi ..ins?" "1 am the man." »aid— "are you a goin' to drive the gentlemen out ol the house again 1 Oh dear ! oh dear! My goodness, it ain't often we see the likes of"him hern, who merely asks 10 light hi» pipe, sits down and talk* like one of us, and has no pride." "And, boy ?" • Yes, sir." But, one by*ono they look tliair flight, Of other homes to be the light, Till hut one sister, dear to me, Were left of all our family, l.iuls eared I whnte'er belide When roaming thoughtless by her side "Do not drceive ir.e. I have an important letter for General William*, ll that i» your name," said the messenger, "here it U," handing Ifte letter to the General. From Graham's Magazine. The House Wilhout Hope. "Do you know Jube Lunn. J" '•Yes, sir ; ho lives close by." "Weil, ho used to bo th« lazie*l rascal in ail Shelburnc county. If you will ax him to come and swing on the gate with me for half Bn hour, and suck sugar bar ley, I'll give you another quarter dollar, fos I haute got a ioul to talk to, and tny tongue is geltiu' rus'.y on the hinge. Now be off like a shot." "I should n't account that offict no great honor," said I, "nor profit nother." "Well," said he, with a sigh of regret •t this review of the extent of his misery, "the honor, perhaps, was no great loss ; but the profit was considerable. Mast of the male folks here go a fishing: well, in course, while they are away in the fall, their pigs will get into the highway; and then a man that docs his duty, which 1 always strive my best to do, nabs them in a minute, advertises them for sale right off1, mid as there is no one to bid, buys them up for half nolliin'. They actilly fed my famity all winter." Oh ho ! sais I to myself, there i* another place where the shoe pinches. I'll find the sore spots by-andbye. "Hold your jaw," sais he. "will you?— You don't know what you are a talkin' about. Who the devil are you ?"said old Peter, addressing mo. "I don't know, and you don't seem wiling to tell me; but I like your talk, and you are wclcoino to wait here for Cldad. You warn't born yesterday, I know." "'Fiiend Potter,'said he, lliey all call you Iriend when the hat is to go round, 'a maififul man is maiciful to his beast.' Thinks 1 to myselt, I wonder il you are marciful to your wife, for xbe is as thin cs a crow, and if all your wracks are no better than her, the trade wouldn't be worth fol- Mr. Williams opened the letter,'onti found, 10 his utter astonishment, that without his knowledge or consent, ha had been elected Governor of South Carolina. He took the messenger home, and entertained him for ■ he niglil, preparing u note in iho mean* lime, the nppoin'menl, and naming a time on which he would be in Columbia. The messenger returned. On llie Appointed day, a few minutes before twelve o'clock, a man dn »*t*d in homespun, ai d on horseback, rode into town ; hitching hi* animal to a treo, ho made his way to tlie Capitol, where lie found t» brilliant concourse of people. Hut few knew him personally ; but there was something commanding about liitu. lie took his seat in i vacant chair, and when the clock in front of the Speaker had struck the hour of twelve the General arose, and delivered ine most masterly speacli that hud ever been delivered ihere. The farmer stalesman entirely electrified the assembly.— lie made an excel'eut Governor. This conveys a beautiful idea : Hero was a farmer elected; he accepted, and from the plow went to the Governor's olfic®D to preside, in a stormy crisis, over the destiny of a sovereign State. Long live his memory.—Wilmington Free I'ress. BY SAM SLICE. A noble, loving heart had she, So full of mirth and gaiety; We daneftd and sung from mom till night, For we were in life's morning bright, When full of joy the heart o'erflows, And I-ove's enrhrtnfment round it throws. I walked into the house of Mr. Peter Potter, the door of which stood invitinly or c»rele-s'v open, and went to the fire, where Peter sat smokin' a pipe, lie was about as cro«s grained, morose, ongainly, forbid din' a lookln man as ever 1 sot eyes on.— He was tilted back on l.is chair, which he balanced with the loes o: his hoots. He wore bis hat, to tave the trouble of taking ii on or off, and a month's beard, to save the trouble of shavin'. Fie neither got up nor looked nor spoke ; but seemed lis t unic to a green stick of wood, lhat was wliut is called singin', or hissin', as the heal of the fire drove out the sap. Pover ty, despair and dogged bad temper was stamped on his face in big print. I guess he hud got out of bed llie wrong way that mornin . I followed him an instent with my eye, and then said loud enough to myself to Us heard inside—"A plaguy (mart boy that— and well mannered, too—and the graciou* knows where ho got mch nice manners from." Then I took a step or two forward, and then suddenly returned and looked in. ' Good bye, old man,'* sais 1, a raisin' of my voice, "!• scs you're dumb, I hope you ain't de I and I sauntered toward the road, for I knew 1 should' be called back, i hail siweo the seeds ohcuriosity—perhaps jC nlot sy—about Nicker, son. High woids succeeded my departure; and the wile soon followed me, and besought me to wait for Mr. Nickerson.— She said her husband was subject to these gloomy (Its. and this one was passin' off— Poor thing! like all wives, she msde every excuse but the right one, and that was, that he was a nasty, cross-grained critter, that wanted a good quiltin to warm his blood —for warm blood makes a warm heart, and that's a fact. Well, baek I went. I gained my point. I wanted to examine the critler, and probe the sore points, and see what on airth ailed him. "Come, sir," sats she, "sit down please." And she took her apron, and wiped thp dust off a chair—a common country prac lice—and took another herself. lerin." "Peter, Pe'.er," said his wife,"how loosely you talk." But she is now a happy bade, By far Missouri's rolling tide, And 1 alone am left to cheer My aged parents, kind and dear, 1 iine has marked their brows with care, Ami silvered o'er Ihe raven hair. "I wish your tongue wur'nt so loose," said he, '-what business is it ol yours how I talk ? Mr. Potter,' said the Preacher, 'have you a look ol'liuy to spare?' "I guess not," said I; "I was born thirtyfive years Well," sais I, "there is another thing [ want." "Well 1 never," said Mrs. Potter, "in all my born days! Why Peter, you have? told that fib so often, you actily believe it now yourself." "I thought so," said he; "I knew Dou were arter somethin*. People don't force their talk or their company on others for nothin';" and he sot down and looked as ugly and as cross as ever. "What is it you are arter 1" " 'No,' sais I, 'I haint. Hay is six pounds a ton here, and mine is led out long ago. My cattle is most starved, and is now to the lif'.iuV But yet 1 feel indeed alone, Ktr no light laugh, no music lone. Of brother kind, or eister dear, Fulls ever now npon my car, As in our lovely, quiet home, I idly dream of days to coinc. " 'Well,' sais he, 'have you are a dug. fish you don't want 1' "-Yes,' sais I, 'plenty. Some I try out for ile, and some [ use for manure. What do vou want of 'em ?' '• Well, well," said I to myself, "this chap is a bit of a scoundrel at bottom, after all ; or else he is so ignorant, he do n't know right front wrong. Mr. Potter," said I, "that may be aceordin' to Providence, law, but, depend upon it, it's agin the mora the law. I don't wonder them hogs were hard to digest, and uinde you let! all the time as if vou had nothin' to do but lie down and sleep till you died. It was your work, and not your core, that was too heavy. Coiiio cheet up, man." "Why," suis 1, ''you have given me a little fire, couldn't you give me a drop of water. The Shelburne water is the best in ihe world. I have got a little mite of brandy in this flask taking it out of tny pocket, "and I should like to take some with you before we part, unless you grudge the water as much as you did the fire; il you do, you may keep it to put it out afore you go to bed. Come, old fellow," said I, tappin' him on the shoulder, "don't be grumpy, you will never see me agin after to day ; and if you hain't no objections, give me the bucket, and I '11 go and draw a little fresh water from the well, and we'll The streamlet dances on its way, "I'll tell,' suiC he. 'That are horse that is so (at and shiny has eat only a few hunlired weight of hay since last fall; two dog-fish a day did all the rest of the fecdin', and look at him, aint he a pictur' ?' " Singing its cheerful roundelay Everything depends on how a man gets up. It's a great secret, that. II it's done wrong leg foremost, or wrong eend fust, you are wrong all day, cross as old scratch; and the wisest thing is to give you a wide berth, l»bt you fly olf tho handle- And if the right leg, or the right side, or the right eend, as the case may be, come up as it ought, why then you'll do pretty well that day, like old Blowhard, it tli *y don't rile you. But t'other way i» like the sun riD sin' and goin into a cloud right off; it's a sure sign of a storm, or a juicy day. fiddly thou b readiest in my par, Thy simple music, soft and clear; I.Ue echoed tone*, whose merry chime Blended, bright water, oft with thine. Though lonely now, as dear to me, The sunny banks, the wooing trees, The j»oodlund's shady cool retreat, The rippling water's music sweet: llut more than all affection will " Is that a fuot, Mr. Poiter I" sais I "A ualera! truth," said he, "Well, my friend, that is the good of talk, as I told you, you learn something by it. I never heaid that afore, and to poor fishermen it '* worth more than all the boards of agriculture ever did 'or litem. By- and by 1 'II tell you somethiu' you do n't know, for swapping facts is better than swapping horses any time." "Yes," said Peter, looking wise, "I go to hear all religionists, but hitch oa to none." After a pause, he said, "You have the eye of a lawyer, and the tongue of a minis" ter; but, after all, what is the use of talking ? I am in a regular, tormented f»i» zle of a fix. 1 am lied hand and foot, and I can't help mjself, nohow I can work if. But, it's my own fuult; 1 cant blame no. body but myself. What's done, is done ; but sometimes, when I sit down and think of what is past, and what a fool I hav* been, 1 nearly go distracied and he struck his forehead with his clonchcd fiat, and looked the very pictur of despair ; and -in the bitterness of his heart, said he wished he was dead. "You can't swim long agin the current, stiunger," lie continued, "without cutlin' your throat as a pig does } and it that do n't happen, you toon get tl* red out, and the water caray you down, and you are foundered forever." —  A Melting Story. Twine round the cot beneath the hill. m i »■»- One winter evening a country storekeeper in the Mountain Stale was about closing his doors for the night, and while standing in the snow outside putting up his window shutters, ho saw through the glass a luzy, worthless fellow within take a pound of fresh butter from the shelf, and hastily conceal it in his hat. THB BUGLE BONO. liquor."' "Draw water!" said he, risin up slowly in astonishment. "How the plague do you know whero the well is ?" Peter had got up wrong, or never turned in right, or didn't know the dodge of gettin' out of bed properly. The room in which he sat was both a kitchen and a common sitting-room. It was clean, but scantily furniscd. Everything betokeued great poverty. Much of the glass of the windows uas broken, and its place supplied by shingles, and what was left was patched with the fragments of wltct had been shattered. The dresser contained but few articles of crockery, and thosa of tho commiine»t kind, of vaiious patterns, and of indispensable uso. A common deal table, a bench, three or four ricketty chairs, with two round pieces of birch, apparently sawed from a log of firewood, for seats, that stood on each side of the chimney, was all that the room contained. BY TENXYSON. '•Come to preach, 1 suppose ?" said oid Peter, who hsd found his tongue at last. The uplenjor fall* on ctwtle walls, Anil snowy summits, old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory, Blow, bugle, blow, set fie wild echoes flying : Blow, bugle; answer, echocs,dying, dying,dying. O Imrk £ O hear! how thin and clear, /Ind thinner, clcar, farther going ! O sweet and ftr, from cliff anc. Svar, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They Taint on hill, on field or river ; Our echoes roll (Vein soul to^soul, And grow fdrever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wide echoes flying, And answer, echoes, an»wir, dying, dyinfl, dying "How the plague do I konw that you owe Lock and Key of Ragged Uland, and Snow of Shelburne 1 How do I know that Muri builds for Fairbanks and Allison ? That you aint a squire, thoug you ought to be? That Jabe Lunn is lazy, and Eldad Nickcrson is a good pilot 1 Come, give me the bucket, the well is under the willow tree there to tha right, near the toad." "No, my friend, I am not ordainfd ; and them that ain't, have got somethin' to larn themselves." "That's natural," sais I, for a man that knows less than any or mor« than q/l of them. But 1 did u'l mean to ax you what sect you belonged to. Like you, 1 do n'l belong to any sect; bul like your wife, ] belong to the Church ; however, I never lalk ol these thihus. What 1 should like •'Slav, Seth," said the storekeeper, coming in and closing the door alter him, and stamping the snow from his shots. Seth had his hand upon the door, his hat on Irs head, and tho roll of butler under his hat, anxious to make his exit as soon as possible. "1 any Seth, sit down ; I reckon now on such n night a little something warm wculdn'l hurt a feller. Come, sit dovyn." Seth felt very uncertain ; he had the butler, and was exceedingly anxious to be off. but the temptation ol sornetning warm sadly interfered with his resolution to go. This he»i;ation however, was soon settled by the rightful owner of the butler tuking Seth by the shoulders, and planting him upon a seat close to the stove, where he was so entirely cornered in by boxes and "Come to lectur, perhaps." "No." sais I, "1 havu't come to lectur' you." "I don't mean that," he said, for curiosity, w hen onoe started, ain't easy kept in. "I mean call a meetin, read a lectur', and poss round the hat." "No," sais I, «'I don't put my money in my hat, but in my pocket. Uome here," sais I, my beautiful curly headed little boy, nnd I'll show you that the pocket is better than the hatarid I took out a silver three penny bit, and a large copper half- lo know is—what you are f" "Mother," said he, "did you ever heir the like of that ? "Oh, now 1 understand you," said he; "oh! I'm neither conservative nor liberal. [ have no hope in cither of them In fuct 1 am desperate, and 1 have no hope. I don't put my hope in princes, for 1 never saw one ; nor on any son of m«n, for all men are liars ; nor on any son of a gover. nor, for though they do n't lie, thev don't speak the truth. All they say is, I'll see ; which means I'll see you out of the house, or I'll inquire ; whiffli means I'll inquiie for an excuse, 1 hope 1 inay be handed—" "Oh ! Peter Potter, how you talk," interrupted his wile. "Mother, will you hold yor tongue now, I tell you said her spouse. "Your wife is rijjht," snis I, "don't hope to be hanged, or you will be disajv pointed, say wish " •'Try an eddy," said I ; "vou ought to know enough of the stream of life to find one of them ; and then you would work up river as if it was flood.tide. At the end of the eddy is still water, where you can rest for another struggle." "Never," sai'! she, "Nor I either," said he; "but needs iiust when the devil drive*, so here goes," and off ho went tor the woler. Oiiliko other houses of the same kind, belongin' of this etas*, which are generally comfortable, and bear soinc marks of thrill and goad cheer, this exhibited nothin to feed or work iipon. No hams hung temptin' from the rafters. No har.lis of yarn klverrd the walls, and no spinnin'- wheel showed an acquaintance with sheep. High up, within the large open fire place, and on either side of the jams, were two hardwood rods that sever ally supported about a dozen gaspereaux, or ale\yive, that were undergoin the process of smokin ; jvhi'e in one corner of the room stood a diminutive scoopnet, by the aid of which, the fldest boy, apparently, had provided this scanty supply of food for the family. A heavy old laahioned musket wan slung between the windows, and was probably the travellin' companion ol its owner, for the special benefit ol constables and wildfowl, both of which are naturally shy, in a place so much frequented by sailors. It was a scene not enaily forgotten, especially in o country like Nova Scotia, where common industry supplies in abundance all the ordinary wants of a family. Proceedin' to the fire-plaoe, I addressed the immovablb and silent owner. "MorninV' Ii "friend. By your leave 1*11 light a cigar by your fire." And suitin' the aotion to tho word, I look up a coal, blowed, and lit one. •'That's right," aaid h#-, "help yourself fust, «nd then ask leave." "Mister," saidfchis wife, when he was cone, "I see you have been about here a?ore, and know who we are, tho' we don't know who you be." "Thai's a fact," sail I. penny. ' (Jo to to the genileman," said the mo. tlier. "Yes," said he, bitterly ; "and' at the end of life, there'* the grave, where lh» struggle is over. It is too late now: 1 have no hope." The Graves of Atllla and Alaric "Now," sais I, "which will you have?' Atilla died in 453, and was buried in ihe midst of a larDre plain, in a coffin, the first covering of which was of gold, the sccond of silver, and tlie third of iron. Along with the body were buried all the spoils of fcis enemies—harnesses enriched with gold And precious sionfis, rich stuffs. and the moat valuable articles takan Irorn the palaces of the kings he had pillaged ; and that the place of his interment might not bo known, the Huns put to death without .exception all who had assisted at the funeral The Efo'ths had previously done the jsanie for Alaric, who died in the year 410, at (Joaenzn, a city of Calabria. They turned for some days the course of the river Vjiserito, and having caused a trench to be dug i" ila former channel, where the stream was usually most rapid, they buried the king there, alontf with immense treas ures. Tiiey put to dealb all who bad maisted in digging (lift grave, and restored j the stream to its fornierbed.—Godfrey. When neighbor Jones went into dinner the o'.her ChrvD he found one ot his apprentj. ces in the kitchen, quietly rolling up his S'CD"\Vhat are you going to do t" said Jones. „rk D" quietly responded the boy , 'I'm aping to dive down into the pot to see ii ' can'ffmd the bf an, that mad# the soup.' Well, child like, he took the biggest "My poor husband is dissatisfied and discouraged ; talk to him, do sir, if you please, for you talk different from anybody else. I saw you was determined to make him speak to you, and oobody, I do believe, could have done it but yourself, because you don't want nothin' of him, and now he will tell you any thin' you like. Do encourage him if you can, p'ay do, sir ; he is down-hearted and down in the world, he savs he is past hope. It's dreadful to hear him talk that way I" "Come, bear a hand," sais I, "my old fcoy, for I want a drop of somethin, to drink (not that 1 cared about it, but i guess he did.) Try that, it will warm the cockels of your heart, and ihen let us have a dish of chat, for my time is short, and 1 must be a movin' soon. How do you like that, eh ? It aint bad, is it ?" "Well, it aint," said he, "mat's a fact. "Now1" sais i, "my friend, sit down and talk. 1 have told you what I aint, now tell me what you aint." "Well," sais he, "1 aint a Papist, I can't abide them, with their masses, holy water, and oonfessions." "They have a good right to be Papists, an you have to be a Protestant," sais I ; "and tho world is wide and lasgo enough for both of you. Let them, alone, surf tbey "Mr. Poller," grid I, poverty ,1s full of privarions, vexations, and mortifications, no doubt, and i« hard to bear. The heart ot man is naturally proud, and poverty humbles it to the dust ; but poverty can be endured—honest poverty ; and so can misfortiu, provided memory do n't charge it to our own fo'.ly, as it does in your case." "Oh, sir !" said he, "when J look back sometimes, I go well nij$h mad." barrels, that while the country urocer sat bcioie bim there was no possibility of his getting out ; and right in this place sure enough the storekeeper sat down. "Soili, we'll have a little warm Santa Cruz,'' said the mountain grocer, as he" opened I ho store door and stuffed in as many sticks as the apace would admit ;— "without it you'd freeze going home such a night as this." Selh felt the butter already setting down close to his hair, and jumped up, declaring he must go. '•Not till you've had something warm. Come, I've got a story to tell you ; sit down now and Selh was again put into his seat by his cunning tormentor. "Oh, it's oonfounciod hot here," aaid the thief, again attemptiug to rise. "Sit down ; don': be in such a plaguy hurry," retorted the grocer, pushing him back into the chair. "My friend," said I, "that big feliow promises the most, but can do the least.— That small white chap is just worth three of him, thouuh he dou'l look like it. Don't trust professions when you grow up." "Oh ! I see," said Peter, relaxin' into his sulkiness, "I sec now, you're a canvasser.""Well, oall it what you like. May I be nar.ged if I ever hope again." "Why what on Birth's the matter?" "Matter." said he, "every thing is the matter. Things is so high you ean't live here now." "No, I ain't," said I. "I bare, and despise, and detect politicians, of all sorts, sizes, stupes, and names." "The de\il you do!''said he. "So do 1." '•What has mado you mad, ought to make you wise, my friend," i replied. "A good pilot has a good memory : he knows every current, sunk rock, shoal, breaker, and sand-bar; havin', as like as not, been in a sorape once or twice on •It of thcra. Memory is nolfiin' but experience■ The memory of the wrong way keep* us in the right one, and the memory of the right road reminds us of pleasant jourueys. To mourn to day over the wrtck of yesterday only increases the loss, and dt. minishes the valve of what little is left «r us. If you are in a fix, back water, throw the lead, look out for a channel, and pull into some cove or other." "Nothin but Providence- can  he said, shaking his head; "and 1 ha«e no hope of that, iot 1 do n't detervo it* interference." : . . •'Ah ha !" sais 1, "that's one of the places where the shoe pinches." "So much the belter for a poor man all over America," sais I, "tor you raise less, the price rises in proportion ; all you've got to do is to work harder, and you '11 grow rich." "The fish," he continued, "ai n't so qleiity aathey used to b«) Ihe rot's in the potatoes} and the weavel in the wheat ; and the devil In every thing." "Why man alive," aais T, "how easy it is to grumble ; if it was only as hard as work, all the world would be well to do in a general way, I reckon. As for wheat, you never raised any, so you can't complain of the weavel. and as to potatoes, fifty bushels wm about your biggest orop, for J you like superfine Yankee fjpwqr better. "But maybe," and he looked still more dissatisfied, "maybe you're a lawyer ohnp V' "Maybe 1 ain't," sais I; "for I don't calculate to live on the follies, the vices, the crimes, and misfortunes of, others, but to aim mv bread like an honest man.— Take care of that bit of siver, my boy," sals 1. "Don't give it to a lawyer when you grow up." "What mout your name be?"-said Potter, turning hall round, and takin' a look at me. "But I have got the cows to (odder, and some wood to split, and must be a going," continued the persecuted chap. "But you musn't tear yourself away in this manner. Sit down ; let th#cows take care of themselves, nnd keep yourself cool you appear to be fidgetty," said the roguish grocer( with a wicked leer. "Well,'1 said I, "it might be Mr. Sam uelI thought I'd keej» back Blick, for I "I guess not," said I, "for Providenct 'W! tf Vs u?