" ! i ; . f
WILLIAM D. COOKE,
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER
U T R A L IN POLITICS.
EDITOR k PROPRIETOR
TWO DOLLARS PER AMI M.
Bebtitctr to all tfje js$n Itrests of Soutl), iterate, true atton, rttultut Itos, fye iWatftete, &
VOL III. XO. 14.
RALEIGH, XOMH CAROLINA, SATURDAY, MARCH, 11, 1854.
. SUIT. APT- DflffTBV i
u u u ij u i i u n iiu.
Delicious little tit-bits of poetry sometimes go
the round of the papern, which need only the pre
fix of distinguished author's name to make thenx
universally admired. As it is, they are just glanc
ed oyer, with the' remark, " I wonder who wrote
that f " and forgotten. Of this sort is the follow
ing: !'. ;- -
When the charming month of flowers j
Lit her earliest ray,
Came one from the angel bowers
: . To this pleasant home of ours,
For a while to stay :
So, acknowledsing the favor
We would think of nothing graver,
And the months own name we gave her
1 Baby May!
f ritter name was never given
. L So we fondly say;
Who have. found the light of heaven '
":In her smile from' morn to even,
" Thrbugh the live long day;
. For the sweet month's incarnation
Is this Eden exhalation,
With her Spring-time appellation,
Baby" May! '., ' -
All the sweets of earliest roses, -.
On the dew-bent spray ;
, All the beauty that reposes i ,
I In the blossom when it closes
At the shut of day,
. All the music that is ringing
-r Where the birds and brooks are singing,
She to ns is fondly bringing i ' '
Iaby May. . a ' , j
: Loud their dismal stories telling ,
Round us all the day, .
Rude December winds are swelling ;
' But upon our peaceful dwelling
Sunshine smiles for aye ;
For, -within this' home of ours, .
Though the bleak December lowers,
Dwells the light of all the flowers
From the N. Y. National Magazine.
ARTHUR SUTHERLAND'S TWO JOUR
; . KEYS. '
"AVe shall have a moist night of it, sir," said
the coachman .of the Emerald to a yourg man
who shared the coach box with him ;' " will you
be kind enough to hold the reins while I slip on
my .coat -I" " And a stormy night, too," he
added, when that operation was performed
" There vfras a -flash !
thick of it."
We shall soon be iu the
" With, all my heart," said Arthur Sutlier
land : "I don't mind a little damp. But cannot
you give the poor woman a place inside ?. There
are no inside passengers, I think." - .
The words were kindly spoken, and the " poor
woman" looked thanks to. the young man, who,
for his part, seemed rather to enjoy the pelting
rain, which succeeding a hot July day, was laying
the dust of the broad turnpike road, and stirring'
up a refreshing scent from the meadows and
hedges which lined iU' '
Our story is of the by-gone days, when rail
roads, as travelling roads, were only beginning
to be talked of, and 'were the standing joke of
travellers, reviewers, and theoretical philoso
, " Beautiful ! grand !" exclaimed the young
man, suddenly, before the "driver had time -Jo
reply to his question, as a vivid flash, of forked
lightning, followed by a. loud peal of thunder,
caused the higH-bred horses to plunge iu their
traces, and proved the coachman's anticipations
to be correct and in course of speedy fulfilment.
The same flash arid peal which startled the
horses ..and -.'excited admiration of the ; young
traveler, drew from the poor woman just behind
a faint cry of alarm; and on' turning his
head, Arthur saw that she :is pale and trem-
blim'. and that the infant 'she carried was con
s' - . -
vulsively clasped to her bosom. He ?aw, too,
that the slight summer cloak she wore, and the
additional shawl which she had drawn over herJt
bonnet and spread around her baby, were art in
sufficient protection from the rain, which was
l.o'w coming down-' in. right earnest.;
" Surel v you will let her get inside," -lie said
compassionately; "poor thing! she and her
child. will be wet through in another five niin-
utes." . ' "
" We shall change horses' directly ," replied
the coachman-; "and then I will seo what lean
do ; but our governors are very particular. If
- they wre to know of my doing such a thing, I
should get a dressing But,' on such a night as
' this is likely to be " - -
The coach drew up to the inn door,- even as
the coachman was speaking; and while tfio four
panting, steaming horses were exchanged for a
team fresh from tie stable, the young woman
andj her infant were. much, to their conlfort
transferrt d from the outside to the inside of the
, coach. . . j . i; ...
- The storm increased -in its fury" as the evening:
grew on. : The lightning was fearfully brilliant
and almost incessant, the thunder was terrific,
'and the rain poured down i in torrents. The
three or four outer passengers, wrapping them
selves up in comfortable waterproof coats and
. cloaks, and pulling their hat-i over their eyes, si
lently wondered when it would be over, only
. now and then expressing a fear,: which seemed
not without foundation; that the horses would
no stand it much longer, and that the off lead
er, especially, would bolt " before one could say
Ji k Robinson.",- ' ,
But there was no such yatastfophe ; and an
other Itaiafo was accomplished, c The thunder
storm had partially-abated ; but the rkin still"
poured down heavily, as the coachman threw
" the ribbons" to the housekeeper, and a waiter
from tlin inn ventured out upon the now muddy
road to announce that the coach would! remain
there half an lour, aud that a supper jwas on
the table, if the passengers would please to
Glad to change his position, and not unmind-
ful tf the .demands of a youthful and sfiarp ap-
petite, Arthur Sutherland had accepted the In
vitation, and was entering the, supper room,
when a loud and angr) altercation at fhe inn
door arrested his attention and his steps.
"Is she an inside passenger, I ask? ghat's all
I want to know ;" the voice was domineering
and fierce. I
"No, sir, she is not;" this was the coach
man "but she has got an infant, and Us .going
all the way to Birmingham, and isn't over and
above well clothed for the journey, nigfit travel
ing and all ; and as there wasn't any orje inside,
and the storm came on, I thought thefe wasn't
any harm " '
The coachman was interrupted in his apology
and explanation by a coarse- oath, and a decla
ration that if he didn't mind what he was about,
the Emerald should soon have another driver,
with an insinuation that there was sonie unde'r
standing between him and the woman about an
extra fee, but that he (the angry speaker) would
be one too many for him (the accomodating
coachman) this time.
- " There isn't anything of the sort,'? replied
the coachman bluntly ; " and here's fa gentle
man," pointing to Arthur, who had cme for
ward a few steps, "that can tell you j so. He
knows when and why I put the woman inside."
The young gentleman, thus appealed to,
briefly explained that at his earnest solicitation
the poor woman was accomodated with an in
side place when the storm came ofi. " She
would have been drenched to the skin bv this
time," he added, " if she had retained her for-
mer seat on the top of the coach." j
"That doesn't signify," retorted the other,
who was evidently one of the coach proprietors,
upon whom the Emerald had lighted lomewhat
unexpectedly, and upon whose overbearing and
defiant address the outward costume pf a gen
tleman sat misfittingly, while his temper was
probably roughened by the light l(ad of the
Emerald that night ; " it -doesn't' signijfy.; if the
woman goes inside, she 'must pay iliside fare,
that's all ; and returning to the coach door, he
in, a few words placed the alternative fbefore the
traveler. I -
'"Idid not think of its being suj;h a.night
when the coach started," the woman; said in a
soft g ntle voice ; "and if I had known it, I
had nothing warmer to put on ; but jl dare say
1 shall do very well,, she added, resignedly ;
" at least, if it: wasn't for the poor baby." And,
wrapping this object of her solicitude as warm
ly as she could in her shawl, she ws stepping
irom the coach, when the young man again in
" It is a great shame," he said, inidignantly ;
and I shouldn't have expected "j
" I should like to knew what business you
have to interfere, sir," said the proprietor,- hot-
ly ; 1 you had better pay the inside fare for her
yourself, if you think so much about St."
"Very well, I will then," returned the young
man. "Please to keep your seat, mf good wo
man, and I'll make it all right." I
" I couldn't think of it, sir," said she; but
before she could frame a remonstrance in suita
ble words, the proprietor and her young cham
pion had both disappeared ; and while she was
hesitating what to do next, the coachman came
forward and informed her that she yas to keep
her inside place the rest of the way. This set
tled the matter. . i
"Lome, air. Mimeriancj, snouted a voice
fronvthe supper-room ; "you are going to help
us, arn't you ? Here's some good stowage ; but
you must make' haste about it; nothing like
Mime present: it will soon be 'Times up, gen
tlemen.' " i!
" Thank you," replied Arthur ; " but I am
not going to take supper this evening." The
extra fare had dipped deeply into a purse not
very well lined. If the "poor woman" had
known the penance to which her young cham
pion. doomed himself as the price of bis generos
ity, and how, in the drenching raini which last
ed all the remainder of the journey, lie was fain
to content himself with munching and (humbling
a dry biscuit, just to amuse his internal conomy
with the hope of something better to follow,
she would not, I think, have passed the night
so comfortably as, in her ignorance, she did.
But however this might be, in due time, or
within half an. hour of it, the Emerald drove up
to the office of the "Hen and Chickens," where
in the early morning, a pleasant-looking, manly
young mechanic was, among others, waiting the
arrival. A gleam of satisfaction passed over
his countenance as he scrutinized the roof of the
: "I am glad she didn't come through such a
night as this has been," he said to a fellow-workman
by his side. " She is delicate and timid,
and wasn't wel' provided with cloakinr, either;
and the poor baby " i
" Here Alex ," the voice of his wife from
the open coach window stopped short the young
man's colloquy j and he hasLened to open the
door. ' f
As the reader may respnably doubt whether any per
son in such cifcum&tancea could act so brutally, the wri
ter has to say that he was on the coach-top that night, and
witnessed the scene described, and has given a mild ver-
:' -Tr?.U .-t-.j-.ti:- jyj - .
'? Bless you, Edith! you here? I thought
jou woulun t have ' come in such weather,
and I didn't think to look for vou inside, anv-
" O, I .wanted to get home so badly," said
the young traveller, putting her infant into its
father's arms whereupon it began to" kick and
crow u a good 'un," as he said afterwards ; "and
beside," she added, " it didn't seem like rain
when we left London, or perhaps I might not
Well, I am glad you were able to get an
" I shouldn't though," said Edith, " If it had
not been for a young gentleman " and she
looked round to thank her friend afresh, just in
time to see him turn the corner of New street.
"There! I am vexed," she said; and on her
way home, like a dutiful wife, she gave her hus
band a true and full account of her incidents of
travel, from the Bull and Mouth, in London, to
the office in Birmingham.
A few weeks afterwards, one Sunday morning,
as Arthur Sutherland, with his sister, was walk
ing toward church, he passed a respectable
young couple, in one of whom he recognized
the 'f poor woman," his travelling companion-.
It was plain that he, too, was remembered, for
in another minute the man had turned and was
at Arthur's elbow.
"Excuse my freedom, sir," he s. id ; "but I
wish to thank you for your kindness to my
Edith my wife, I mean that terrible night she
came down from London."
" Don't speak a word about it," replied the
youth ; " I am glad that I was able to give a litJ
tie assistance ; but it isn't worth montioning.
I hope your wife didn't get any harm ; for she
had some of the storm as it was."
" Not the least in the world, sir ; but she
might have got a good deal if she had come all
the way outside of the coach. She had been
to London to see her friends, and hadn't more
than enough left to pay her fare down. I think
you was money out of pocket, sir," the man ad
ded, after a little hesitation; "and if you
wouldn't be offended at my offering to pay back
'Not a word about it, my good fellow; I could
n't think of it- "
' Then, sir, 1 must thank you for it, and hope
to be able to leturn the kindness in some
other way ;". and the man rejoined his young
"That's young Sutherland," he said. " His
father's a Regular screw, they say ; but this one
has got agood name, as far as he can do. any
thing. If the old gentleman had been on the
coach that night instead of the voung one
you might have been wet through fifty times
before be would have said a single word for
" Wrhatnew friend have you picked up now,
Arthur ?" asked his sister when the short con
ference was ended ; "and what is that about the
coach ? I euess now whv you had to borrow of
me the day after your journey, to make up your
book, as you said ?'
Well, never mind now, Jessy ; I'll tell you
all about it another day," said Arthur.
Years passed away, and! Arthur Sutherland,
now a man in his own right, was again a travel
ler from' London to Birmingham, but by a dif
ferent mode of conveyance. It was on a dark
afternoon in winter that he entered a second
class carriage at Euston Square, and, wrapping
around him a railway blanket, and exchanging
his hat for a fur cap which he' took from his pock
et, he leaned back in a comfortable corner, and
half closing his eves, waited patiently, the sig
nal of starting.
Arthur was in that kind of dreamy mood in
Which little note is taken of surrounding objects.
He had tba; same day landed in England, after,
a long and stormy voyage, and an absence from
home of two or three years. Physically, he'
was well-inclined to sleep through the five hours
of monptonous dullness which were, for that
time at any rate, to wind up his journeyijig ex
perience ; but, mentally, he was never more
wakeful. It might be sufficient to account for
this, that' images of home rose up before him,
one after another, as he drew near to it, and
mingled tather distractingly ' with the reminis
cences of his travels in o$he,r hemispheres, and
his calculations of profit and loss which might
accrue from it ; for his had been a commercial
enterprise". But there were other thoughts and
images, which jostled all the rest into a corner,
and their combined with them to tantalize his
body with the vain hope of needed and refresh
ing oblivion in sleep. A patnership in his fath
er's business was in immediate prospect, and a
J-home of his own, and a wife. Such a wife, too,
as his would be ! and so long as he had waited,
and so hard as he Ead striven to overcome one
obstacle, after another which had arisen to post
pone the union ; if not absolutely to forbid it,
but which iiao! been over.ome at last! No won
der that Arthur Sutherland was in a dreamy
mood, yet sleepless
So dreamy indeed was he that he had scarce-
ly noticed, before the train started, two other
travellers, who were sharing with him the com
partment he had entered; and when he did
p revive' that he was not alone, the lisht from
the oil lamp in. the carriage roof told him little
more than that the person opposite to him was
a toan of respectable exterior and middle age.
and that by his sida was a etout something in a
bear-skiijf coat, with breath not free from
strong suspicion of ardent spirits, which made
dose contact anything bnt pleasant, and more-
over with a voice rough, grating, and loud.
Our friend had travelled too far and long to be
very fastidious; but, nevertheless, coming to a
speedy conclusion that it would be more agree
able to himself to indulge in his own particular
reveries than to hold commuirou with his fellow-travellers,
he settled himself more firmly in
his corner, and started off his imagination a
fresh into the cloud-land of the happy future.
Miles and miles the train sped along the iron
road, and many stations were passed. Mean
while the dreamy traveller became gradually
aware that a conversation, apparently of some
interest to his companions, was passing between
them ; and, as his ears were not altogether
closed against earthly sounds, he caught up in
sensibly some scraps of intelligence relating to
events which, though common-place enough at
that paiticular time, had to him a tone of no
velty, lie heard, for instance, of princely for
tunes which had been run up in an inconceiva
bly short space of time in the railway share
market ; of the mad excitement which had at
tended the blowing up of the big bubble ; of
the tricks and schemes of knowing ones in buy
ing in and selling out, in starting illusory
schemes and making profitable merchandise of i
human folly ; of the bursting of the bubble at
last, and the ruin of hundreds, who, in making
haste to be rich, had lost the substance of the
shadow, and pierced themselves through with
many sorrows.; and of the distrust which recent
disclosures had spread through every commercial
" I don't like it I never did like, this sort of
wholesale gambling," said the gentleman in the
opposite corner ; " and they are scarcely to be
pitied who have got their fingers well bitten by
putting them into the trap. Their families, to
be" sure, will have to suffer that's the worst of
" Ah, well, Mr. Smith," retorted the man
with the loud voice and beat-skin coat, who sat
by Arthur's side, " I can't say but what there
has been a good deal of knavery at the bottom
of it all ; but if people will be cheated, let 'em,
I say. But I shouldn't have thought of hearing
you run down railroads, however." .
"I don't run down railroads," sHd the gen
tleman, in a quiet tone ; " and I can only say
that I am thankful I have had so much to do
with their practical working, as you know, as
to leave me neither time nor! inclination to play
at pitch and toss upon thni."
" I say," said the wearer of the bear-skin
coat, in. a confidential tone, nudging Arthur's
side, to attract his attention, when the train was
stopping at a station at which their fellow
traveller had for a minute or two alighted "I
say, do you know that gent!"
" No, sir," replied Arthur Sutherland, sleep
" Ah !" resumed bear-skin, drawing a long
breath, " a lucky fellow that. Why, you must
have heard of Smith Alexander Smith the
great railway man ?"-
" No, I haven't," said Arthur ; "I have been
abroad a good while, and have not been a day
" O, that accounts for it. You will hear about
him then. ' "Well, that's he. Ten or a dozen
years ago he was nothing but a Birmingham
mechanic ; but some lucky hit he made about
railroads gave him a lift, and now they say he's
worth no end of money. You should just go
and look at his factory that's all."
O, said Arthur Sijtberland ; iand at the
same moment Mr. Alexander Smith re-entered
" Aftar all, Mr. Smith," said the bear-skin-
nedf traveller, resuming the conversation. " there
4s some excitement, though, in this gambling,
as you call it. There was some fun in it while
it lasted, at any rate. And if some lost, others
won, and 'tis about square."
" How many losers to one winner, sir ?" re
lied Mr. Smith, rather sharply ; " no, sir, it
isn't square, nor any thing like it; and so it
wiH turn out in the long run. Look at the
bankrupt list in every gazette, and say what
you think of that, sir?"
"Ah !" responded the other, " things are out
of square there, at all events. By the way, an
other of your nobs is gone, I see what's-his-
name in street, I mean."
Yes, sir ; I am sorry for it. Fifty thousand
pounds, they say, and not five shillings in the
pound, nor anything like it; and all gone in
this mad, wild-goose chase after railway scrip.
And yet, it was done so secretly, and the party
had such a reputation for wealth, and shrewd
ness too, that a week ago it was looked upon as
one of the firmest houses in Birmingham."
There was something in the tone the conver
sation had taken which arrested the young tra
veller's attention. The street mentioned was
that in which his father's business was carried
on ; and he felt some curiosity to know which
of his neighbors was spoken of as Mr. What's-
his-name. Meanwhile the conversation went on.
"Perhaps you have got let in there, Mr.
" No, sir, not a penny," was the answer.
"O, I fancied you might," said bear-skin;
" you said you were sorry."
" Well, sir, I suppose it is possible to be sor
ry for others as well as for one's self. I am sor
ry, too, for these shocks that are given to com
mercial confidence ; it seems to he coming to
.that now, that everybody will be suspected, and
as much mischief will be done that way as has
already been done in another. Besides, I am
sorry for Mr. Sutherland and his family "
Id . moment Arthur was effectually recalled
j from his land of dreams ; and before 1
could finish the sentence he had begun, he was !
interrupted by the voice of the hitherto silent
" Excuse me, sir ; but did you say that Mr.
Sutherland " Arthur stopped short there ;
he could not frame the question that trembled
on his lips to his own satisfaction.
" It is of Mr. Sutherland I was speaking, fir,"
repFed Mr. Smith, mildly.
"But not of j , that is, you do not mean
that there is a , that there is anything
wrong in Mr. Sutherland's affairs?"
1 It is too well known by this time to be
doubted. You have heard that his name was iu
yesterday's gazette, and his place is closed. The
common report is that Mr. Sutherland has ruin
ed himself by railway transactions, and that he
is involved to the amount I have stated."
" But not Mr. Everard Sutherland ?" said
Arthur, with increasing agitation, which all his
efforts could not subdue. " Some other pei6on
of the same name, perhaps ; not Mr. Everard
Sutherland, of street ? There must be a
But no; the reply he received precluded all
possibility of mistake ; and thankful now for
the dull light of the railway lamp, the young
man, stunned and bewildered by the sudden
and unexpected intelligence of his father's ruin,
sank back again into his corner, his pleasant
dy-d reams all dispersed, and in their stead a
confused and tangled web of gloomy forebod
ings. Shortly afterwards, the rough-coated man
left the train, and Arthur became aware that he
was undergoing the scrutinizing gaze of his only
remaining companion. Before he could screen
himself from this disagreeable examination, the
silence was broken.
" I am' not wrong, I think," said the gentle
man whom we have introduced as Mr. Smith,
" in believing that I address Mr. Arthur Suther
" I am Arthur Sutherland, certainly," replied
the young man ; "but you have the advantage
of me, sir. I have never before had the pleasure
f meeting Mr. Smith,. I believe."
"Once before, sir, under different circum
stances rather ; but that is of no consequence
now. I have to apologize, very sincerely I as
sure vou, for the pain I have unintentionally
given. I was not at all aware who was my tra
veiling companion when I spoke of "
"It is of rio consequence, sir," said Arthur;
if what you say is true, I must have known it
to-night ; and a few hours sooner or later makes
no difference ;" and he again relapsed into a
silencs from which has fellow-traveller did not
attempt to rouse him, until the shrill scream of
the engine gave note that the end of the journey
was reached. Then Mr. Smith spoke aein.
" One word with you, Mr. Sutherland," he
said, respectfully ; ." I am afraid you will find
matters i j a sad state ; it seems strange to me
that you knew nothing of this before ; but, at
all events, I have been thinking I may be of
some little use to you ; and if so, here is my card,
come and see me."
Arthur mechanically took the offered card,
and muttered an acknowledgment of thanks for
me proterea kindness ; in a tew minutes a car
was conveying him and his luggage from the
railway station to his father's house.
"Tell me, Jessy," were almost the first words
he uttered, as his sister, in tears of mingled sor-
row and gladness, welcomed his arrival,
what I have heard this night true ?"
"Dear Arthur, you have heard nothing too
sorrowful to be true. We are ruined !"
" And our father 'what of him, Jessy ?"
She shook her head mournfully. The mad
excitement of a few months, and its results, had
brought about an imbecility of both mind and
body, painful to witness. "You are our only
hope now, Arthur. 0 ? how glad I am you are
come back at last."
Arthur Sutherland slept little that night. In
the news which his sister had confirmed he fore
saw the downfall of all the hopes which had so
recently shed 6uch a bright halo round the fu
ture. The partnership would be a partnership
n poverty and disgrace, an-! the matrimonial
engagement must end in bitter disappointment.
I am sorry for you, Arthur," said the father
of the young lady the next day, when the young
man called on him at his counting-house "and
I must say you have behaved honorably in com
ing to me first ; but your own good sense will
tell you that the connection ought to be drop
ped altogether. You know I did not give my
consent to it very willingly at first ; and now
There needed nothing more than the emphatic
" now" and Arthur returned home agitated and
The arrival of Arthur Sutherland, however,
was very opportune. He had a good reiport
among his father's creditors ; and it .was known
that be had had no share in the errors which
had brought about the failure. His assistance
was valuable in winding tip the heavy affairs of
the bankruptcy ; and, with straightforward and
honorable frankness, he made his services avail
able to the utmost.
One evening, while the business was yet un
completed, and after the harassing duties of the
day were over, as he was slowly returning from
the counling-honse to bis father's residence, he
was accosted by a gentleman whom he dimly
recognized as the companion of his railwayjour
" I have been expecting and hoping yon wonld
take me at my word, Mr. Sutherland, and won'd
have called on me before now. But as you
have not, I ws just going to find -you! Are
you disengaged f If you are,, and will allow
me, I will walk homewards with you."
Arthur took the offered arm.
"And now, what are you doing ! how are
you getting on ? But I need; scarcely ask you
this ; for everybody I meet speaks in praise of
your disinterested efforts to make the best of
this disastrous affair ; and, now I think of what
I am saying, I am not sorry you have not been
to see me before now."
"What is the meaning of this?" thought
Arthur ; hut he did not speak, and presently
"is home was reached.
" And now, Mr. Sutherland," said Mr. Smith,
when they were alone, " may I ask what you
intend doing when these affairs are finally set
tled?" Arthur replied that he had formed no plans
for the future. He supposed, however, that a
mercantile situation might be obtained.
" Your father's business was a good one, I be
lieve, Mr. Sutherland ; why not take it into your
own hands ?" ,
We shall not report further of the conversa
tion of that evening. Arthpr found that, by
some means, he had obtained the good-will of a
sympathizing and able friend ; and after the in
terview which was prolonged to a late hour1
the young man entered the room in which his
sister was waiting for him, in a more hopeful
frame of mind than he had enjoyed since his re
A few weeks passed away ; and then it be
came known that Arthur Sutherland had enter
ed on the business which his father had been
compelled to relinquish, with all the advantages
of an enlarged and profitable foreign trade which
he had been the means of opening. He made
no mystery of the fact that the unsolicited assis
tance of Mr. Smith had enabled him to take this
step ; and when this was explained, all wonder
ceased ; for the large-hearted, open-handed, but
sometimes eccentric liberality of that gentleman
was no secret. Nevertheless, there was a mys
tery which for months afterwards remained
uncleared ; and we hasten on to its disclosure,
leaving it to the imagination of those of our read
ers who think that a story of ups and down is
by no means complete if it does not end with a
wedding, to guess for them selves how Arthur
Sutherland again wooed, and finally won the
lady of his choice.
" There was a wedding then ?"
Yes, a very quiet, modest affair indeed, ma'
am ; not at all such a one as you would approve,
if you are in any way given to romantic musings.
But there was a wedding, and that is something;
and a few wedding visits were paid, and in due
"You never saw Mrs. Smith before, do you
say, Mr. Sutherland ?" It was in Mr. Smith's
drawing-room that this fragment of a conversa
" Never before she did us the honor to call
the other day. Never, at least, that I can re
member." " Look again, Mr. Sutherland ; . are you quite
sure? And this girl" laying his hand on his
eldest daughter, " have you never seen her be
Arthur was puzzled by the tone of the speak
er ; but he repeated the assurance that if he
had ever had that pleasure his memory played
" Perhaps you will refresh our friend's me
mory, Edith," said Mr. Smith to his wife.
" Do you not remember," asked the lady, in
a soft gentle voice, "a dreadful 6torm, on a July
night, many years ago ; and travelling from
ondon on the coach,-and a poor young woman
ightly clad, with an infant in her arms, a fel-
"Yes, yes, I, certainly remember that- all
that," said Arthur, eagerly, for the truth at once
flashed on his mind.' ' -:,
" And the poor woman's' foolish alarm ? and
the harshness of the coach proprietor, who
would have turned her out of the coach ? and
how it was he did not do it ?"
" And that young woman's husband, Mr.
Sutherland," continued Mr. Smith, M who told
you that he would find means of repaying the
kindness which was shown without expectation
of reward or thanks f Have you never happen
ed to meet with him since in your travels ? Tell
him, Edith, what you know about it?"
"am that poor woman," said Edith.
It was even so; the seed of a little kindness,
sown years, before, had sprung up and -borne
this goodly fruit. Tbe bread cast upon the
waters had returned after many days.
Crossing Hampstead Heath, Erskine saw a
ruffianly driver most unmercifully pummelling
a miserable bare-boned pack horse, and on re
mostrating with him received this answer:
4 Why, it's ray own, mayn't I use it as I pleasef
As' the fellow spoke he discharged a fresh
shower of blows on the raw back of the beast.
Erskine, much irritated by this "brutality, laid
two or three sharp blows of his walking-stick
over the shoulders of the cowardly offender, who,
crouching and grumbling, asked him what busi
ness be had to touch him with his stick!
'Why,' replied Erskine, 'my stick is my own,
mayn't I use it as I please.'
.- What is the difference between an attempt
ed homicide and a Cincinnati hog butchery !
One is assault with intent to kill, and the other
is a kill with intent to salt. ' '
" The Ltttlb rDKAaJ1 Now, my love, have
you got your lesson of" " No, , ma, but I've
cot the hack of the catechism oft" I v, - .
A FOREIGNER IN TROUBLE;
The following funny - incident is extracted
from an article in the last number 6t BladcwowT
AfcraziW,entitled " The English at Home, by d
Frenchman abroad :
A Frenchman newly arrived at London,
tient to see the town, but fearful of not
his ty t0 hia hot? Caefu11 -Pf
a card the mean printed on the wall at the cor
ner of the street in which it was situated!
done, he felt himself safe, and set out for
ble, much; upon the principal vulgarly known as ,
followingione's nose. The whole daylong he
strolled and stared to his hearts content wear
ied at last, he jumped into a cab, and with the
easy, confident air of a man who feels pjrfectly
at home,:he read from tlftTcard he had prudent
ly preserved, and named the street he dwelt in.
The cab-pan grinned horribly. This English
pronunciation is sadly difficult," said the French-.,
mau to himself ; 1'he does not understai d me."
And he placed the card before the ma i's eye.
Cabby grinned more than ever, gazec. in his
fare's astonished face, and ended, by sticking his
hands in his pockets aud roaring with li.ughter. .
Iudignation on the part of the foreigner ; he ap
pealed to a passer-by, who gravely listened to
him at j&rst, but, upon beholding his card, join-,
ed one and all in chorus with the coachman.
The Frehchman now got furious, swon (Stamp
ed gesticulated, like a candidate for Be Ham.
He weipt so fer as to threaten the laughers ; a
crowd assembled, every-body sympathised with
him til they learned the circumstances of the
case, when they forthwith joined in thi infect
ious hijarity. Up came the police, thoj e guar
dian angels of bewildered Foreigners in London's
labyrinth. The aggrieved Gaul felt sure of sym
pathy, Wuccor and revenge. He waa never more
mistaken. The gentleman in blue roared like."
the rest. They evidently could not hejlp it. '
Compunction mingled with theiv mirth, nut they
nevertheless guffawed exceedingly. To what ex
tremities the desperate Frenchman migbt have
proceeded, it is impossible to say, had not a
gentleiman acquainted with his language ap
peared upon the scene.' He too laughed vio
lentlyj on beholding the card, and when he had
spokejn a few words to the Frenchman, the
Frencshman laughed likewise, which was a sig
nal for a re-cornmencement of the gen ;rol hil
arity.; The address so carefully copied by the
Foreigner was the following :-"Commit uo nui-
; . BOYS GET AHEAD-
When we see young men spending all they
make, and when we consider the great! import-
ancejof a little cash capital to their future pros
perity, we are amazed that their own common
sense does not,urge with sufficient impprtunity
the duty of trying to save, if it be everko littlej
fromi present earnings towards a future capital.
We once heard of a gentleman who lad risen
from' poverty to wealth and influence, by his
own ! prudence and industry, enforcing the sav
ing plan in this way. Suppose, said he,Krou had
six ejgs to live upon daily. Now, it ia clear, if
you Seat all the eggs every day, you will never
have:any ahead to depend upon. But if by. self
denial, you can save" one of these egg to-day,
or this week, aud another next day jor week,
you can ' soon have besides your six egjgs daily,
one, two or more hens, that will give fou one,
two or three dozen eggs, instead of the half
dozen you had first. You will not suffer in any
respect from the little self-denial necessary at ,
firsthand when once you have set hi pain the
egg-producing influence, it goes on ofj itself, as
it were, lhe one egg saved, gives you a hen,
which produces indefinitely, and then if you
choojse you can eat your half dozen eg js daily, ...
and ptill be gaining from the first saving.
Ve have often thought of the simple illus
tration as comprehending in an egg-sh :11 whole
volumes of political economy, and recommend
it toj our young readers as worthy of practice.
Telegraph Miracles. It may not be gen
erally known that operators in magnetic tele
graph offices become so familiar with tbe sound
of the instrument through which the receive
communications, as to know what it satvs ; that
is, they learn to understand the rap and pauses
as a language, and without the necess't of hav
ing rthe marks and dots taken upon aj moving
slipjof paper, can, from the sound alone, write
out communications. And, perh aps, every body "
does not understand that an operator at one
office may have connection with a hundred
offices, and write in them all at the same time
At the telegraph office, where communications
are- passing from New Orleans to New York,
evety word going both ways may be understood.
The operator is heard to call New' York, from
New Orleans, and in an instant the reply passes ;
on its return..... - , , . s '.. ;r':3-';;t
In this manner, items of intelligence business
notices, messages and jokes, between the .opera- .
tore, are daily exchanged over the enormous cir- -
cuijt of two thousand miles, aqd the most . won-.
derful fact of all is, that a person familiar with
the business, can stand on the side-walk in front
of be office, in this city, when the communica
tiops are complete, and by, the ticking of the
instrument, can understand the messages as they
ply at inconceivable speed can hear the opera
tori at New Orleans call, " Hallo. New York P
and catch the response from the Empire' city of
" Ay, ay, sir I" while drawing.; "a single breath.
5v 1 1 c--