North Carolina Newspapers

:. -. ' ' ..." .--!' . . ' ' --'.3:,--! ... . . M - I - i'-J'- r. ' : : , ' - V " 'X. " ' i " ' '- T Jc C.KXXIS 1I..VII,KY, WIT.MAM' D. COOKR. ' V LY TTEIiT'O N WADDELL, JR .1 A FAMILY X E W SPA? E E -T E UTPi A L II POLITICS. EDITORS. TERMS;nWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM. tpaitis to all tfo Sntercatg of florrt) Carolina, ucatiott, ntulture, ktmtMtm, ftc Jarfcts, .Sad 1BU roi,. n-m. 38. SELECT POETRY. NOTHING IS -LOST. BY J. C. PRICE. Nothing is lost : the drop of dew Which tremb'es on tho leai' or flower Is but exhafed, to fall anew p . In Rummer's Ahunder-shower ; . ' Perchance to shine within the bow Thut front the1 sun sit fall of da- Perchance to fparkle" in the flowe ; Of fountains far away. ' - ' Nought lost; for e'en the tiniest seed By wild birds borne or breezes blown. Finds omeihing suited to it need V7herein 'tis sown and grown ; Perchance finds sustenance and soil, In some remote and desert place, Or, 'mid the crowded homes of toil, Sheds usefulness and grace. ' - V i - The little drift of common dust, liy the March winds disturh'd and tossed, Hiougli sc itier'd by the fiiful gust, Is changed, but never lst ; It yet may bear some sturdy stem, Some provd oak battling with the blast, Or crown with verdurous diadem Sotuerui'it of the past. The furnace quench'd, the flame put out, Stid di-g to.earth'Wr soar in air ; Transform'd,' diffused, and blown about. To burn ayiin elsl-where: Iln'ply to make t lie beacon hlaze, Vhieh gleams athwart the briny waste, Or light the social lmp, whose rays Illume the home of tasie. The touching tones of minstrel art, The breathings, of the mournful (lute, "Which we have heard wish list ning heart, Are no! extinct hen mule : The lanjru'ag' of some household soncr, ' " The perinuie of some -cherih'd flower, -' Though gone from outward sense, belong To uicmury's after hour. So with our words, or h irsh, or kind, Ut crM, they are not ail forgot; They leave their influence on the mind, I'a-s on, but-perish not. ' i, ' - As they are sp"ks n,"so .they f-ll t'pon the spirit .spoken to Scorch it like drops of burning gall, Or sooth like jhoney-dew. - ' . So with our deeaV, for good or ilf, They have-a power scarce understood; Then let us use our better will , To make them rife with good. Like circles on a lake they go, Oh. ih it our deed were fa,hion'd so 1 That they might bless id way ! THE IDIOT'S IVIDENCE. t :.. A KEMINISCENCE. AVtjOEVEB has happened to visit the pleasanrlv situated vi lage of IIue Anchor, Bridgewater Buy, nomersfctshire, (Eng.) can hardly have failed to no tive! ou its extrjm:ty a pretentious sort of cottage. rtrnii in iIa fll.l.-.,,-. . . . . . 1 ....1.. n S..ni..l riie in :the ej)er-l)ox-loukiiig structure at the gate entrance, ligiiified bv tlie'maine of "Porter's Lodtre." Tltis fedince was buiit by a Mr. Waiuwriglit, of Betlmel jLiren, Loiid'iu, who having, in the course of half a century of saving, industry, and single-blessed- iess, scraped togetlier a handsome competency, jpuddenly determined .upon exchanging his busines aud his. bachelorhood for the retirement of Blue 'Anchor, near which he was born, aird "marriage with a good-looking widow of less than half his own. age, but. amply dowered with Tfive small chil dren. Wedded bliss did not seem to agre with Ir. Wain wright, for after, the'aehievement of La- bur3um Villa left' him nothing on eartti to do but v I Jr.. ,.,:....u.: i. . . iu ta on ccw ujiauiuiiin, tie. ailpr miitiinof l hrnnir r lout six months of restless lifesatik with entire esignation, the minister said, to his final rest, leav- Snw Mrs. WainwHfrhfc. bv a will niaa in tl.a J-f fveek of tye honey-moon, absolute mistress of some twelve thousand' pounds in tlie funds, in addition !to Laburnum Villa and its appurtenances of ave jything. in short," of which he had died seized or )'o!sesse4. We of Hiue Anchor, had but brief op Jportunity of noticing how-the widow of her second 4 O ' D ' ' LIIV, tll.Tt jliusband bore her sorrow, one little' month only avmg passed" away before she took her departure forIxndon; and a painted board, stuck in the front flower-garden, announced that Laburnum ia and grounds were to be sold: further par ticulars obtainable of Mr. Holford, Blue Anchor jpending which ultimate disposal of the property, a Deutly-liamed card-id 'the lodge window, gave no tice, that fnrnisliAd anartnieniVKli aTtenaarree,- mig' t le obtained ty application within. Wr. iioiford was; my father, wno, naving ni some slight acnuaintance with Mr. and Mrs. ain- wrio-ht. had undertaken to keep an eye upon me i inperty, as well as over Joel barton, me gaie ketper, and Mistress Fanny Denvir, or Bennett tlxre' beingj in some persous' opinion, considerable tot upon this point the youthful liousekeepei M - Z ' . . . a r i I , I t.t t in charge ot the interior ot uoumuiu Jutl was a parish boy, having been' born, bred, ed ucated that is, taught to read without mucu sn hnor and to -wnt mtp ur-.b v to nersons sKUiea in paligraphieal litfieulties in the woi khouse. tie liaid but pne relation, a decrepid, almost bedridden- BUiiher : and. in other respects, was emphatically life child of calamity. In person he was -greatly def.rmed, and his large, ' coarsely-f-atured head, S'iuat. as it were. uiun his broad shoulders, and protruding back and breast, would have presented I . 7 . . . -II- ' an altogether repulsive aspect, but tur the hue dark 6y?s-which I have often seen ki die! into lustrous expression of sad eloquence when words of kind- nessor sympathy'iell upon his ear. Ihe untortu- nate lad's intellect too, was unsound unsettled, I som.-tin ftw-infrhL mi'frht be the truer description ; by the bov-rabble '.of Blue' Anchor he was al- ays addressed pnd spoken ot as "roojisn, or .uau Joey." The taunts and torments, to which he was exposed on account of his 'mental infirmityceased at about his fifteenth vear his remarkab.e strengtn oft arm, ponderosity of fist, and fierce courage, at mat a'a pflWtimlk- nrntectini? mm iroui oci noyance. Nevertheless, he did not cease to be spoken of.asia half-crazed, sullen, dangerous p. 'n, whom, spite of some good 'qualities, such as v v. fidefitv. trutlifiilness. it was prudent to, W possible, avoid; and -there cottia uc uo SELECTED STORY. tossible, avoid; - Ri dofcbt that the persecution to which he liad bee-, so many years exposed had quickened and exaspt rated whatever of sinister predisposition was lat ent in his imperfectly-developed cranium. With the exception of his mother and Fanny Bennett, I was about the only person for whom 'be ever man ifested confidence or respeci, from my having been able to render him' some trifling services. Fanny's influence over him was of a very different charac ter, and incomprehensible, I believe, td himself, ofr teu confessedly , wondvrina I "waslsure he did, why it was that ber brigbt face and igentle voice inside his pulse beat, and the dark chambers of his braiHn lighted with a troubled, "half-fearful joy. And the child-beauty herself could at that time have little dreamed that the words and looks o.. co'i passionate kindness which she bestowed upon Foolish Joey would thereafter have so marked an effect upon her own destiny; that herlown life-experience would furnish a striking illustration of the wisdom of the injunction set forth iri; her dame school copy-book : '"Scorn not the afflicted nor the outcast, for they also are God's children." This Fanny Bennett was another of our village notorieties I had almost' Written calamities -forasmuch that at. the period of which I am now speaking, it would have been hard to decide which of the two, the house or gatekeeper at Laburnum Villa, had been most unfortunate in tlie lottery oi life. Of very humble parentage -her father iwas' a journeyman market-gardener Fanny Bennett was one of those rare flowers scattered here iaud there over the bleak wastes of the world, whose fresh, rustic beauty possesses so mighty, if but mo mentary charm, for men -palled with the trained graces -the cultivated attractions of the lilies and roses which adorn the gorgeous parterres of high society.. A good girl, too gui.eless,, affectionate, and dutiful ; and, spite of fb,e inflation of vairity , which the constant breath of even village admira tion could hardly fail to generate inj her young brain, might have kept her feet and the even tenor of her .peaceful way, had it not unfortunately chanced that a fashionable lady of Bath whom it is unnecessary to name struck by her appearance and natural elegance of manner, offered totake-her into her service as "companion," educate, and pro vide for her.' The temptation was irresistible, and Fanny, who had just turned her sixteenth year, left Blue Anchor in tlie great lady's "carriage. The promise of the lady -patroness w as so far fulfilled that she was taught so much of superficial accom plishment, as might be-useful, or agreeable to her mistress- hair-dressing, che k-painting, embroide ry to play-the piano sufficiently well to accom pany her own voice in the simple ballads she sang so sweetly, and to read with1 uough of; skilled em phasis to render a novel or a newspaper intelligi ble to jyjfjadcd lis te n er..AJfllvt th ree rea rs had thus passed when her mistress died. rather 'sudden-, ly, and the pretty protege 'found .herself provided for to the extent of fifty pounds, and a mourning ring, to be worn as a memento of the deceased la dy's virtues and munificence. Thus portioned with rich beauty, vain pretence, and fifty pounds in cash, Fanny Bennett, after a fruitless attempt to procure another situation-as " companion," returned to fret away her youth, with vexation and disgust amidst the meanness and monotony of her father's poor home and its drudg ing duties, as she had learned to consider them. Changed in temper, puffed up with pride, impatient of her humble position, the young ; morning of Failny Bennett's life seemed already darkened with the prophetic shadow of a sinister catastrope, if 1. might believe -the.ptetendediy careless post-criptun of a letter addressed to ipe at Bristol where I was at the tiu!e on a vis't to a relative by my father.- I had never hinted a serious thought re garding her to him or any one else, but had -long since, notwithstanding, asJ clearly discerned as he strongly disapproved the feeling towards the beau tiful maiden which had seemed to grow with my life in Constantly-increasing strength and virility. From my earliest recollection 1 had dreamt dreams associated with P'anny Bennett, and my father's in-; tejligence producing a contrary effect to what he intended, I invented an expuse for hastening home at once, though with what precise purpose I hard ly knew myself. Whatever it might have proved, no opportunity was afforded me of putting it in action, for the very day bfctore I reached Blue An chor, Fanny Bennett left; it in company with a Lieutenant Denvir a -young and dashing gentle man, of attractive exterior to be married, j the village folk reported, with a sneer and a titter, at Bath. The stranger, whd was passiug a few days at Hiue Anchor, had chanced to meet her about a fortnight after her return home, and the result just related had ensued. It seemed to have taken no one by surprise ; neither did her retur,n, after about wo years absence, ill,, "'ejected, her beauty dim med by grief and disappointment, accompanied by a young child, her -son. j She had not, it seemed. ived with her husband, as she persisted jn calling llll HUH 1- i i in" 11 '" " "",', '". ' . since when she had dwelt m obscure lodgings in London, barely supported by occasional remittances from Mr. Denvir. inese ceaseu ior -fi.ro hftr return home, and a letter; reached i her, purportino- to be subscribed by a solicitor, out mere ly dated London, May 19, 1836, by which she was ;.fArml that "the irentleman trom allowance she had received was derived, having died rather suddenly, it would necessarily be dis continued." I write, at her 'father's request, to the h faet of bis:deceasei and war ouii.T, iu tv-.v -. a curt oflkial repiy. informed me that if I had con sulted any army-list, I should have seen that no Theodore' Denvir held a commission in his Ma jesty's service. This was decisive, and no further doubt remained of the nature of the villanous ar tifice to which, aided by her own rash folly, lanny Bennett had fallen a victim. J , Falh.n thus low from the imaginary height she S had attained, the future of the. young wife and I motto-there was no doubwe ascertjinedhat i Uie ceTemonv of marriage had been performed be tween her and the fellow calling bimsetf Lieuten- i ant Denvir seemed a dreary, weu-nrg" uv,- ' one ; and Mrs, Wainwright, who, whatever uer other qualities, had a large share ot womanpv .. pathy and compassion, left her in charge of Labur num" Villa at a fair salary and liberal lard-jwages, .mil .T.Mil till tlio fin-jl disnosal of the property, was coufirmed in his office of gate-keeper. Nothing, isfortunes ot in pfmneoti.-in with tVi fortunes and misfortunes Fanny Bennett, or , Denvir, came to my knowledge till four or five months subsequent to Mrs, W am wright's departure. It was a delicious afternoon ; the tide was out, and I had. been for some time strolKng about on the broad sands of Bridgewater Bay, chewing. the end of sweet and bitter fancy- LEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY, AUG the latter flavor, as I remember, strongly predomi nating when Joel Barton, whom I had observed busy about a pleasure-boat, in which h j frequently accommodated the lodgers at Laburnum Villa with a row or sail, came rapidly, and with seeming pur pose, towards me. His face, as he abruptly stopped and intently reconnoitered my couiftenance, wore, it struck me, a peculiarly malicious, or, at all events, mocking, as well as it usual indecisive wavering expression Lhav1fbcMB he -began, thoving the boat out towards low-water mark, so' that she may fleet soon after the tide rises : our house-keeper and Mr. Churston are croing out together for a sail not for the first time, 'either." . " Your housekeeper and Mr. Churston !" I tartly rejoined, vexed that I could not conceal the hot flush which instantly made my ears tingle, my eyes flash, and face feel like burning coals. "What is that to me!" Joel laughed, and I was about to make some fierce and therefore foolish reply, when he said, with quick seriousness of tone " I always go with th em, Master Iloltord, alwavs. Do aou know," he added, peering; with his dark, uncertain eves close . , iZ7 J " into my face "Do you know that only yesterday, when they were out together, the little boy Theo dore would have been drowned but for me ? Mr. .Churston let him fall overboard into the water bv accident, of course, you know entirely accident," and Joel laughed again with a bitter mocking hi larity, incomprehensible to me. " I fancy our housekeeper will be married again soon," he pre sently added, finding I made no answer. " Married again ?'J I blurted; " be' duped again, you mean." . " Yes, duped again, that's it, Master Holford; but not quite like as before. Mr. Churston is rich an'd .respectable. Lawyer Page.. of Bridgewater, answers for that. And see, Master Holford,' he added, with abrupt vehemence " Foolish Joey, as thev call him, will soon be rich and respectable too look here !" lie extricated, as he was speaking, a canvass bag from his browsers pocket, containing, perhaps, a dozen sovereigns, emptied it into his hand, and contemplated his riches with fiercS exultation. For saving .Master Theodore," he exclaimed, ;as soon as he could withdraw his 'fascinated gtare from the gold ".Mr. Churs.ton's reward for saving Theodore - ha ! ha ! ho.! ho I Before I could say a word, the restless humpback started off, and strode away some thirty or forty yards. He then stopped abruptly, paused as if in doubt fr a minute, hurried back to where I stood, and' said "Mistress Fanny hates, detests, loathes this man as she might a spotted toad.- I -never heard her say so ; but I know it for all that. I observe many things that wise men' .don't, foolish as L am. ; - " What,'then, is to induce her. to marry him ?" "The. fear of poverty, the dread of want, not for herself, but for her boy ; that she may else live to see him pine for lack of food. The house is sold, and we have had warning to leave!" " Well, Joel," I replied, "I can do nothing in the matter, and-it's useless, therefore, to worry our selves by dwellina: upon it. An infernal business, I admit,-though not exactly yours or mine." Ihe wild, eirat.c intellect ot Joel who, I was convinced, had been drinking, though, to do him justice, tins was not an ordinary vice ot his seem ed to determinedly steady and concentrate itself as I spoke, and after a slight hesitation he said "I know you better, Master Holford, than to believe thoe words-' eome from your heart;' and I am al most sure I could trust you ; an I yet, perhaps, you would not have the courage to to "Courage to do what, in the devil's name ?" " This, Master Holford, I know I am sure of," resumed Joel, with resolute calmness. " that this marriage would never take place if of her boy was once well out of the way if the -child was. uead!" ' These words, slowly distilled, as it were, from Joel's lips, aiid accompanied by his maniacal inqui sition of in y countenance, seemed to arrest the current of my blood. " Good Heaven !" I, after awhile, found breath to exclaim, " what diabolical thought possesses you ? You surely would not- . But I see you have been drinking J,o excess, and hardly know . . . " Drinking!" fiercely interrupted the wayward man- "and what if I have, it dosen't' so often happen ; and you; who are so sober and wise, not to have seen I was jokieg a fool like me would have known I was only making fun. But the boat is fleeting, I see, and I must be off to warn the wife and husband that are to be. Good-bv, Mar ter Holford." . . I immediately turned homewards, in about as savage and perplexed a mood as ver I rememb er to have experienced. Mr. Uhurston, who. I was aware, had been lodging for several'weeks at tofty-! once or twice at a of age; and ir..? Agues9ed, about fifty y ears throw herself away upon a fellow old ehougn to be her father, how could I help it ? And what right, moreover, had I to feel angry thereat? I, who had never, that I was aware of, given the slightest intimation of Bah ! Let her marry I Beelzebub if she would what was it to me? And that crazed and drunken Joel, what might there be of seriousness in the dark fancies floating in his distempered brain ? Surely he could have no real intention of murdering a child whose life he boast ed -of having yesterday saved, with the absurd view of removing what he supposed to be Mistress Denvir s inducements to marry Churston ? It could scarcely be, and yet when, thus soliloquizing, I reached home, I could not refrain from imparting to my father the substance of Joel's ravings; He was chief constable of the district- a honorary office in ,thots;e days and might, I thought, speak to Joel in a tone of authoritative- warning. He, however,Lmade very light of the matter ; was quite sure Joel must have been tipsy to have uttered such .folly, and was, I saw, not in the least put out by the news of Mistress Denvir's approaching mar riage. About the very best thing she could do, he calmly observed, "and a lucky chance withal; for," added he, looking steadily over his spectacles at his only son, " what respectable young man, of independent meaus, would marry Fanny Bennett, or. Denvir, or whatever else her legal name may be, after all that has come and gone ?" A brief, en lightening sentence leapt to my lips, and would have passed them, but for a. resolute effort for what coujd such a declaration now avail, except to greatly irritate my father? To avoid temptation 1 1 Waruptlr left the room. 4 We heard nothing further of the inmates of La bu rnum Villa till the- following Sunday evening. The month was September, and the equinoctial gales of autumn had set in with unusual violence, as the howlings of the wind round the gables of the bouses, and the booming of the tumbling surf in the bay, unmistakeably gave tokem The storm which had sddenbr risen was. at its height about eVht o'clockiear wjiich time a loud knocking, ii'Py repeated at 'the outer door, startled ritjy father and myself from the dozy though tfuiness in duced in us both by the warmth of the fire within and the roaring of the tempest without. The door was answered, and the next minute Joel Barton staggered into the room, his face white as a sheet, his eyes on fire with excitement, and his hair and clothes dripping with seatwater. "I I want," he stammered in answer to our mute questioaing, "I want somebody you, Master Holford -to go and break the bad news to to to Mistress Denvir." "Bad. ne s? What news?" : ".That little Theodore is drowned." " Drowned ? murdered you mean, wretched vil lain !" shouted my father, at the same moment rushing up and seizing Joel. - . "No no, drowned 1 say," persisted the hunch back. " Let hie go,will you? The, tiller of the boat," he went on to say, after ridding himself of my father's grasp, and looking the while unquietry at me "The tiller of the boat in which I had ta ken him for a sail snapped when the storm came on, the boat shot up into the wind, and the flap ping of the mainsail swept him over. 1 tried to save him, but could not." More passed, but : suffice it to say, that spite of his protestations, my father conducted Joel to the cage or temporary lockup-house, and then proceed-. t. ed to break the terrible tidings at Lajburuum Villa i accompanied lum as tar as tlie gate only, tor the purpose of delivering the message Joel had charged me with to his mother. She had become so ex tremely deaf, that I could hardly make her under stand that Joel was unexpectedly detained from home that night." "Oh, ""ah !" she at last muttered. " I understand ; -Au't you have nothing for me ?" And the bleary eyes of the old woman rested ea gerly on my hands, as if she. thought I had money for her. "Nothing," I bawled, and came away. My father did not return home till near two o'clock, and had, as I anticipated, passed through a very distressing scene. " I have also had, Charles," he added, "a rather loug conversation with Mr. Chur ston, and it is certain that the death of the boy has broken off the expected marriage. Mr. Churston frankly told me, that upon mature reflection, he had made up his mind- deuced suddenly, it is clear that tbe'tinioh could hardly fail to be an unhappy this." ' j . r ' - ' " There is, indeed ; and Joel shall, as I faithfully promised him, be informed of that fact as soon as . it is light. This terrible business is not yet fath- omed, depend upon it." .' My father agreed and went to bed ; not however to sleep at least I did not and by six o'clock ' Joel Barton received my message. The reply was an earnest request to see me and my father imme diately. We were with him in less than a quarter of an hour, an'd fairly knocked backwards by a blunt declaration orVcoufession", the instant we en tered the place, that he, Joel Barton, had drowned, murdered little Theodore Denvir, at the instigation of Mr. Churston I' " I have only had a small part ot the promised reward, added the wretched felon, " which I showed to Master Holford the other day, and now he thinks to throw me over, but he shan't. You don't believe me perhaps. Well,.ail I can say, only just examine Ids paper before he gets away, and if you don't find out why he tempted me to commit the dreadful deed, say that I bear false witness !" ; We could scarcely believe our ears, but as.. Joe sullenly persisted in his statement, it ai my fath er's duty, under the circumstances, to act with de cision, and off we presently set towards Laburnum Villa, Joel caremily guarded by two constables. We were but just in time, as a fly was at the door, and Mr. Churston' just about to-step into it. He. started and changed color at seeing us, but iu reply to my -father's requestito speak to him privately, answered boldly enough, that he could not lose the time, as he feared missing the coach already. 4C:You must spare the time, Mr. Churston," was the stern rejoinder. " You are my prisoner." "Prisoner! God of heaven! And upon what charge!" " As an accessory before the fact, to the murder of Theodore Denvir! Ah ! I see that it is an in telligible accusation Here, steady yourself by my arm, and let us go into the house." We all followed, and as soon as Mr. "jChurston's effects had been brought into the room, my father fastened the door on the inside. Joel then repeat ed his previous statement, but avoided, I noticed, during the recital to look Mr. Churston in the face. As he went on. that gentleman seemed to recover burst out into a funoils vituperauuu x mc aiw.ug witness, whom' he very liberally qualified as a lying felon, a slandering lunatic, &c, and at last' wound up a fierce and indignant tirade, by asking my fath er what possible motive he could have had ia com passing the death ot the child J "that 1 do not know;vbut the prisoner, Kel Barton, avers that the examination of your papers will unfold iU" . : " The reviving confidence of Mr. Churston fled at once on hearing this, and he was again deadly pale and trembing in all bis limbs. " Who wilt dare," he gasped, " to meddle with my letters or papers ?" " The' nearest mag'sti ate will, be assured ; and we had better seek hhu at once. Come, further parley would be usels." "One "moment, Nr. Holford one moment!" exel ai med Ch urston, iupon w h ose w h i t e fore head larf e leads of agony arere standing. " Let me re flect: I am as innocent of this horrible charge as yourself. Still, thereare circumstances there are papers, which, unexp dned, might suggest. Yes, I will be frank "with ou, and state, unreservedly, the exact position in hich I am placed." 'VAs yon please, nly remember that what you say may be used agailst you hereafter. "Of course of carse. Well, then, since the truth must out, I anj the uncle of Mrs. Denvir's husband. No won you exclaim, but hear me out. His name waiChurston, not Denjir. He died about six weeks Igo only, of a fall from his horse but he lingeret long enough' to repent him of his conduct toward bis rustic wife, and his last will defises his propy, about 300 per annum , 20, 1853. to her, till his son, by her, attain his majority, when it will pass to him, charged with; a life annuity of -200 to his mother. This testament was a terri ble blow to me. I am not richvery far from it indeed, though I contrive to keep tip appearances, and by" an agreement with Mr. Peacocke, the soli citor, of Furmval's Inn. . who drew the will, to the effect that I would seek out the widow and child, I obtained an opportunity oriolicUing "her in tnar riagfc befote the change in her circumstance could be known. The death of a child, of which, by my hopes of salvation, I am entirely innocent entire ly changes my position, as in that case the proper ty wasjdevised to me, scharged with the widow's annuity only. This is all the crime of which l have been giailty. . A knock at the door interrupted him. It was the unhappy mother, who came to ask'if any tid ings had been heard of her child. She had not, of course,; the slightest idea that he had been murder ed. Upon my father answering the question in the negative, sire sank into a chair, hid the pale oeauty ot In r lace-in her hands, and sat there sob bing convulsively, and deafly inattentive to what else was said. "Even-if4 you have told the truth, and all the truth, Mr. Churston," aid my father, in a low voice, ' the matter must be judicially sifted, and we had better begin at oncei' "But this will be ruin, Mr. Holford," returned Mr. Churston, in the same tone "ruin to my char acter t all events, and this, too, upon the unsup portedevidence of a malicious idiot." "No, no, not unsupported, Mr. Churston," repli ed Joel, with suppressed but evident exultation ; "the ijjiot has evidence to bring forth that cannot be contradicted. Here, Master Holford. cut this button off my coat; now -let a constable take that and show it to my mother at the gate; and' when he returns we shall see what-Master Churston has to say: for himself." i ' . This was done, and several minutes of wonder ing, expectant silence passed, broken only by the moaninga of the bereaved mother. The footsteps of the constable were then heard returning along the narrow path, and no -other sound that I couid hear but the mysterious instinct of the mother was more keenly appreciative, for at once the sob bing ceased, and she sprang, up In an attitude of intense listening attention, which seemed to become more "absorbed and eager with each passing mo ment. The door' was flung open, and a wild rap turous scream, .almost a maniacal outburst of ma ternal joy, was ' simultaneous with the entrance' of her son, the reputedly drowned or murdered-The-odore ! My head seemed to spin round like a teetotum, and so I imagine did those of others, but a glawfe tlnwitU the mocking! words which followed, e?:- piamea me whole mystery r . 1 say, Mr. Chuton,- the idiot has spoiled y.o"ur wedding for you, and wormed out your secret over the market. Did'n.tyou ever know, sir, or had you forgot, that in the long run the knave is no match even"for a fool !' What thorough Ir sane brain could have hit upon and successfully carried through such an audacious ruse?. When we had time to look about us a little calmly, Churston we found had slunk off, and pre sently Joel sidling up to me, said in a whisper, as the excited ranny the oidy name I seem to know her bv left the room with her child : "There 11 be a chance for you yet, Master Holford, and you won't forget,' will you that' kindness may some times be repaid even by a poor half-crazy outcast, such as I am ?" There was a chance a blessed one, leading to a day of which the joy-bells have never ceased to ring out their musical gratulations in. one of the happiest homes in al! broad England. Kentucky regard for fair play.- In . the year '38 I was travelling with a strolling theatrical company, and arriving at a small town in Kentucky it was resolved to treat the inhabitants to a bit of the legitimate:' A. suitable place having been secured, notices were stuck up informing the public that on that evening would be pe; formed, by one of the best theatrical companies in the Union, the admired and popular drama of "William Tell, the Heroic Swiss. Night came, and the room was crowded by an anxious audience, many of whom had never witness-' ed a theatrical performance. The piece passed off very well, eliciting much applause, and enlisting the sympathies'of the audience jn behalf of Tell,' as they took several occasions to cheer the patriot on. V hen the shooting scene came, great excitement was manifested among the group of the hardy sons of Kentucky they began to think ' that, the thing was real. At that moment when 1 fell re- monstrates with Gesler for having picked out the smallest apple, and the tyrant says : " Take it as is : thy skill be greater if thou hit- test it. wbuM Tell renlies : one chance to save mv 5ov I" One of the group I have mentioned a hardy saphng who would measure full six feet two inches in his stockings sprung upon the stage confront ing Gesler, and shouted : " Give him a fair chance ! I vow to snake it's too mean to make him shoot his son ! 'spose I let him shoot one of my, niggers ; or if that won't ' do, I,'ll let him have a crack at me, provided he puts a pint cup on my head instead of that cussed , little apple !" It is almost useless to add that this caused a scene especially as three or four of the Kentuc ian's friend jumped upon the stage to back him and side with TelL It took seme time to pacify and assure them that it was a play. " Well, stranger, we won't 6tand any foul play in these diggins, and seein'as how it's only a show, why, we'll step out," and the valiant Kentuckian, as well as his friends, resumed their seats. JV. Y. Dutchman . May is considered an unfortunate marrying month. An eastern editor says, that a girl was asked not long since to tuuite herself in the silken tie to a briijk lad, who named May in . his proposals. The lady tenderly hinted that May was an unlucky month, formarrying. "Well, make it June, then," honestly replied the swain, anxious to accommo date. The damsel paus? d a moment, cast down Jjer eyes, and said with attuib," Wouldn't April do as well?" - - :' WHOLE NO. 90 QUI EHTES Is it unj body's business, If a gentleman should choose To wait npon a lady, If a lady don't refuse ! Or to speak a little plainer,- That the meaning all may know, Is it anybody's business, ,,If a lady Jiaa a tou Is it anybody's buMioess When that gentleman does call. Or when he leaves that lady, . Or if he leaves at all ! Or is it necessary That the curtains should be drawn, To save from further trouble The outside lookers on ? Is it anybody's business! But the lady's, if her beau Rides out with other ladies . And doesn't let her know ? Is it anybody's business But the gentleman's, if she Rides out with other ladies Where he doesn't chance to be ! If a person's oa the side-walk, Whether gireat or whether small, Is it anybody's business W here that person means to call? Or if you see h person - As he is calling anywhere, Is it any of your business, What his business may be there ? The substance of our query, 'limply staled. Would be this; . Is it anybody's, business What another's business is! - If it is, or if it isn't, ; t . We would really, like to know, For we are certain if it isn't, There are some who make it so. If it is, we'll join the rabble, And " act the nobler part" Of the tattlers and defamers j Who throng the public mart; - . But if riot, we'll act the teacher, Until each mt-ddler learns It were better for the future To mind his own concerns. "A little semi-pagan, who for the first time was receiving some sort of religious instruction from a female friend he was 'visiting,, found some difficulty in'understanding that Sunday had anything re markable in it over any other day. At last, by dint of 'line upon line, and precept upon precept,1 he was made to comprehend somewhat the sanctity of the day.' i Unfortunately, however, soon after he began to understand things, coming from church one Sunday, y t - . - r r i J ' T "p" "' ' acquired'Woral sense received terrible shocy, and he entered into a very orthodox denunciation of I the unconscious compounders of simples. 'But,' he was told, 'the druggists must kep open on Sunday, so that the sick people can get medicine.' '"Why! do people get sick on Sunday?' 'Yes, just as on any other day.' 'Well, good people dou't di- on Sunday, do they. 'Cerrtainly!' 'How can . that be? Does heaven keep open on Sunday?' It is needless to .say that all futher grave conversation on the subject wa impossible. The Dog that Loved his Mistress. An amus ing story is told of a ycung Parisian- artist, who lately painted a portrait of a Duchess, with which her friends were not satisfied declaring that it -was totally unlike. The painter, however, was convinced that he had succeeded admirably, and proposed that the question of resemblance or no resemblance be left to a little dog belonging to he Duchess, which-was agreed to. Accordingly, the picture was sent to the hotel of the lady the next day, and a large party assembled to witness the test. The dog was called in, and no sooner did he see the portrait than, he sprang upon it, licked it ail over, and showed every demonstration of the greatest joy. The triumph of the painter was complete, and all present insisted that the picture had been retouched during the night ; which was actually so the artist having rubbed it over with a thin coating of lard J The dog's nose was sharper than the critics' eye. Hibernian Consolation.- Recently, a small party of Patlanders obtained admission to the jail at Durham, on a visit to their countryman, M' Cormack, who had to take his trial on a charge of murder. Having intimated to the prisoner that they had collected a sufficient sum to retain counsel for his defence, they were about to take their leave, when one of the party, shaking the accused by the hand, administered this truly Hibernian piece 'of consolation : "Ah ! thin Martin, my boy, keep up yer spirits ; it's no consequence whether ye'er hang ed or transported, so long as ye get justice, done yez." Poor Martin, unable to appreciate the fores midst of which the comforters took their leave. He was subsequently found guilty of manslaughter, r,dn:enced to twelve months impnsonment. A Good one. lbe ew-lork topiril 01 the Times teils a good joke concerning a verdant limb of the law, who resided upon Nanticoke Creek, and in times of the absence of the pastor of the "district meeting," acted as clerk. He had a strange way of manufacturing. a word when at a loss for the right one.. Well, upon a certain occasion, when he dee med his services in request, he undertook to ''give out a hymn," in which the word doxology occurred ; but, as he couldn't get hold of jtbe'word.he requested the congregation to sing " four verses and a sock dologer" a A Farmer's Wife in the Oldew Time. Sir Antony Fitzherbeth, Chancellor to Henry VllL, thus describes a model farmer's wife : "It is a wy ve's occupation towinnoweall manner of cornes, to make malte, to wash and ironyng, to make hay, shere corne, and in time of nede to help her hus band to fill the muckwayne or duDgcart, drive the plough, load hay, corne, and such other. And to go or ride to the market to sell butter, cheese, egges, chekyns, capons, henspigs, geese, and all maimer of comes." A little miss about fourteen years of age, attend ed a writing school, and had made considerable proficiency in her chirography. The master set her copies alphabetically, and a'ter finishing the word "Union," which was given her, she artlessly looked up in the face of her teacher, and inquired if he did not think she would be able to make a pretty good TNiotf in the course of a couple of .years I I ra ther think you will,"" waa the reply. -: r V.