Mt. Vernon Republican (Mount Vernon, Ohio : 1854), 1855-08-21

              Pi fit I r it 1 ., i Hi I Sliftr , ' "if a free thought seek expression, speak it boldly speak it all." I'tfr 11 " ' ....'!.- . i . . . ... h ,1 i" " 11 1 ..' '- 111 ' VOL.1. MOUNT VERNON, OHIO, TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 21, 1855. NO. 40. 7 THE MOUNT VEBNOI REPUBLICAN II PUBLIBUED EVERV TUESDAY MORNING, Br tii If T..M! T).!nl!n rnmnmv lllUUUJltllll 1 IlllUllg 1UllipuilTj Incorporated under th General Law. TERMS. In Advance $2,00; within six month, $3,25) after the expiration of six months, 3,&U: after the end ol l ue year, J uu. Subscribers in town, receiving their paper by carrier, will ba charged lift oeuta addl tlnnal. Cluba often, $1,75 to be paid Invariably In advance. All communication for the paper and busi neia letter abould be addressed to THO.F- WITHROW, Secretary of the Republican Printing Co The Wind. The wind went forth o'er land and aea Loud and free ; Foaming wares leapt up to meet it, Stately pines bowed down to greet it, While the wailing sea, And the forest' murmured sigh Joined the cry, Of the wind that swept o'er land and sea. The wind that blew upon the sea Fierce and free, Cast the bark upon the shore Whence it sailed the niirht before Full of hope and glee : And the cry of pain and death Was but a breath Through the wind that roar'd upen the sea. The wind was whimpering on the lea Tenderly j But the white rose felt it pass, And the fragile stalks of grass Shook with fear to see All her trembling petals shed, As it fled So gently by the wind upon the lea. Blow, thou wind, upon the sea Fierce and free, And a gentler message send Where frail flowers and grasses bend On the sunny lea ; For thy bidding still is one, Be it done, In teuderness or wrath, on land or sea. Household Words. Pride. BT 1. a. SIZE. 'Tis a curious fact, as ever was known, In human nature, both often shown, Alike in castle or cottage, That pride, like pigs of a certain breed, Will manage to live and thrive on " feed' ' As poor as pauper' pottage I Of all the notable things on earth The queerest one is pride of birth, Among our " fierce Democracy." A bridge across a hundred years, Without a prop to save it from sneers Not even a couple of rotten Peers A thing for laughter, fleers, and jeers, Is American aristocracy 1 Depend npon it, my snobbish friend, Your family thread you can't ascend Without good reason to apprehend You may find it waxed at the farther end By some plebian vocation t Or, worse than that, yonr boasted line May end in loop of strongest twine That plagued some worthy relation I Because you flourish in wordly affairs, Don't be naughty and put on airs, With insolent pride of station. Don't be proud, and turn up your nose At poorer people in plainer clothes, But learn, for the sake of your mind's repose, That wealth's a bubble that comes and goes I And that all Proud Flesh, wherever it grows, 1 subject to irritation. Saw Ye Ne'er a Lanely Lassie. Saw ye ne'er a lanely lassie Thinkin' gin she were a Wife, The sun of joy would ne'er gae down But warm And cheer her a' her life. Saw ye ne'er a weary wife, Thinkin' gin she were a lass, She Wad aye be blithe and cheeria, Lightly as the day wad pass. Wives nd lasses, young and aged, Think na on each ither state. Ilka ane it has its crosses, Mortal joy was ne'er complete. Ilka ane it has it blessings, Peevish dinna pass them by, Seek them out like bonnie berries, Tho' among the thorns they lie. Noon and Morning. There are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain j But when youth, the dream, departs, It take something from our hearts, And it never comes again. We t stronger, and are better J nder manhood' terner reign Stitt we feel that something sweet Followed youth with flying feet ; And will never come again I Something beautiful Is vanished, And we sigh for it in vain ; We behold it evory where, On the earth and in the air-But It never comes again I Tbavkmno Chrsbi. A correspondent of the Cincinnati Times, writing from Burlington, Vt, relates the following : " I am reminded speaking of old cheese of a little anecdote the stage driver told me yesterday. We were passing an old farmhouse yesterday, with an antidy yard, and dilapidated out-buildings, when he said: A Boston man got off a pretty cute speech to the owner of that place 'tother day.' ' What was it ?' I asked. ' Why he called at the house to buy cheese, but when he came to look at the lot, be concluded he didn't want 'em, they were so full of skippers. So he made an excuse and was going away, when the farmer said to him : ' Look here, mister, how can I get my cheese down to Boston the cheapest ?' The gentleman looked at the cheese a moment, and seeing the maggots squirming, said : " Well, J'm not certain, but'l think if you'll let 'em be a day or two yon can drive 'era right down I'" How to Cnoosa a Hubbakd. Neer marry a man until you have seen him eat. Let the candidate for your hand pass through the ordeal of eating soft boiled egg. If he can do it and leave the table tpread, napkin and his shirt unspotted take him. Try him next with a spare-rib. If he accomplishes this feat without putting out one of his eyes, or pitching the bones into your lap, name the wedding day ' at once J Is will do to tie to. Storage IUr'0 . ffcring Ben Solt, and Sweet Alice. "Oh, don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Hull 7 Sweet Alice, whose hair was o b rown 1 Who blushed with delight when you gavt her a smile, And trembled with fear at your frown T In lha old church yard, in the valley, Ben Bolt, Iu a corner, secluded and lone, They have fitted a slab of granite so gray, And Alice lies under the stone." Ekolish " Don't you remember ?" Are those three magie words a key whorewith we may unlock the floodgates of tne Heart, and send the sweet waters of the past over the plains and down the hills or that fair land, known in our heart experience as by-gone? Even so. TborteW before us visions of time when the bright, deep eyes of the young spring gazed slyly at us from beneath the ermined mantle of winter when the blue violets stole their first tint from the bine sky above ; when the cow slips of sunny Mar, and the golden-heart' ed buttercups first jewelled the slender . . . - T . . , . . blades of grass ; ana the hawmom grew white with its blossoms ; when we roamed the woods the whole of that long, warm, lovable June holiday, weaving garlands, and listening to the concert of birds in that dark, mislelo-wreathed, oaken forest. There was one, in years gone, that prayed; " Lord, keep my memory green , . and the clinging tendrils of our hearts go ever back yearningly to this prayer. But preen and Iresh as the Doet s rjraver. had the heart of Ben Bolt been kept. From his early boyhood to the hour lie sat by his old friend, and listened to the sung of by-gone days. JNot " through a glass, darkly," did he review those scenes of the past, but it was the going back of the boy- heart to others of childhood. There was a little old red school-house, with its dusty windows, and desks that had been nicked many a time, trying pen knives; its tall, stern-looking teacher, whose heavy voice caused tho youngor ones to tremble ; its rows of boys and girls with their heads bent attentively downward to their books and slates. The wild winter wind sang and whistled without, and some few childish hearts tried to find words for its mournful notes, they were too young and happy to know that it carried desolation and heart-ache in its wail, yet did they learn it in after years. Then, there came a few light, round snow-balls, so tiny that it must have been the sports of the snow spirits, in their eld-rich revels, changing by and by, to feath ery flakes that danced about ever so gaily. How the children's eyes grew bright, as they looked at one another, and thought of the merry rides down the hill, and the snow-balling that would make the play ground ring again. The last lessons were said, books and slates put aside, and, in place of the silence, reigned gay, glad voices. Kate Ashley shook back her pretty ringlets, and laughed through her spark ling eyes, as she gave Jamie Marvid that bit of curl he had teased so long for, because she knew Jamie had the prettiest sled in the whole school. Ah, a bit of a coquette was the same gleeful, romping Kate. And there was Sophie Dale, looking as demure as a kitten walking from a pan of new milk ; and as playful as a kitten, too, was she, in spite of her quiet looks ; and the stately Elizabeth Queen Bess they call her and I question if England's Queen had a haughtier carriage. But apart from tbose who were eagerly looking for friends to take them home, stood Alice May sweet Alice. Very beautiful and lovable was she with her winsome, childish face, blue eyes, and soft brown curls. She was so delicate and fragile, you might almost fancy her a snow child or a lost fairy babe. Nearly all the children had departed, amid the joyful shouts and jingling of bulls; but yet the sweet little child stood alone, until a rich, boyish voice startled her by saying : " No one goes your way, Alice, do " No, I guess not, Ben," she replied in her fine bird-like tones. " Let me carry you home." , " 0, no, I am too heavy to be carried so far," and she laughed low and sweetly. " Heavy I no, jou're just like a thistle down or a snowflake, Ally ; I coul J carr you to England and back again, without being at all fatigued ;" aud ho tossed the little girl in his arms. " No, no ; let me go ; the boys will laugh at you, Be.i ;" and she struggled. " What do I care ? They may laugh at Ben Bolt as much as they like ;" and the brave boy drew himself up proudly, and pushod the chestnut curls Irom his broad, fair forehead ; "but I did not mean to frighten you, Alice," he continued, a he saw how the little girl trembled. So, she put on her bonnet and cloak, and Ben took her in his arms as if she bad been a bird, while the tiny little thing nestled down on his shoulder, as he went stumbling through the snow, saying gay, pleasant things, that made the shy little girl laugh j and when, at length, he opened her mother's cottage door, he stood her on the floor, saying ; " There, Mrs. May, I brought Alice home, lest she should get buried in a snow bank ; she's such a weeny thing ;" and before Mrs. May cou.'d thank him, he was out of sight. W hat a brave, glorious snow storm was though. The boys built a great snow house, dipping the chunks of snow into water to harden them, so they might last longer ; and they rolled large snow bills for a pyramid until it was higher than the school-house. They worked bravely ; but the , brightest and pleasantest face among them was Ben Bolt's. Such rides as they had down the bill, and, though the larger boys and girls said Alice May was too little and timid to join them, because she felt fearful sometimes, yet Ben Bolt held her in his arms, and away they went, merrily as any of the rest But the winter began to wane, and now and then a soft day would come, and lessen the pyramid and snow house materially. "Such a pity," they said, and wished winter would last always, bat there was one little wren-like voice that prayed for violet and blus birds. . - The pyramid tumbled down, the snow house grew thinner and thinner, and the boys jested about its being in a decline, till one day It disappeared faded away, like so many of their childish hopes. The glad spring came with Its larks and daisies, and one beaulllul day the children went a Maying. Kute Ashley was queen, and a brilliant queen she was, too. But Ben Bolt gathered white violets and braid ed them In the soft curls of Alice, and told her that she was sweeter, dearer than thousand May queens like Kate. Child as she was, his words made the sunshine brighter, and lent enchantment to the at' mosphere of her existence. Then tho long June days came, encir- clincr the preen earth with a CoronaWf roses, and making it redolent with pefTume; and in the warm noontide hour, tho children strolled to the foot of the hill, and, clus toring together, told "ver their childish hopes of the future. Some were lured by ambition ; some dreamed of quiet country repose ; some of gay city life ; but there was one whose eye kindled, and whose face flushed with enthusiasm, as he spoke of the sparkling blue waters, and the brave ships that breasted them so gallantly. oen Doit was going iu sea. vapiuin Shisluy, a generous whole-souled being as ever trod the deck, was to take him under his protection for the next five years. There were exclamations of surprise from the children : ol 1 haunts were visited and revisited j they sat down in the shade of the old sycamore, and listened to the mu sical murmur of the. brook, and the dreamy hum of old " Appletun's mill," exchanged ke psakes, and promised always to remember the merry, brave hear.ed b y whose home would be the wild blue ocean. Alice May d;d not join them. Sim was so delicate and timid, and the thought of Bail's departure filled her ey-s witii tears. so she would steal away alone, fearful of the ridicule of her hardier companions. But one night, Ben came to Mrs. May's cottage to bid them good bye,' Alice stood by the window, watcuing the stars wondering what made them so dim never thinking of the tears that dimmed .er eyes as Ben told over bis hopes so joyfully. She could not part with him there, so she walked through the little door yard, and stood beside the gate, looking like a golden crowned angel in the yellow moonlight ; and when he told her over again how large she would be on his return ; that he would not dare to call her his little Alice, then ; as he looked back lingeringly, she laved a soft brown curl in his band, saying : I have kept it for you tins long, long time, Ben ; ever since the day you brought me home through the snow do you re member ?" He did remember, and with one passion ate burst of grief, he pressed the little girl to his bosom : and the brave hearted boy sobbed the farowoll hp could find no words for. But, five years are not always a lifetime. True, it was such to the quiet, thoughtful Charlie Allen, whose large, dark eyes, had stolen brilliancy from his books ; and the laughing little Bel Archer both were laid to sleep in the old church-yard, where the night stars shone on their graves. Others went out to seek a fortune in the gay world, and some grew into miniature men and women by their own sweet firesides ; but Alice May was still a child. Yet she was taller and her slight form more gracefully developed, but there was the same angel looking through her eyes as had watched there in olden days. She stayed at home now, to assist her mother in sewing, their chief support ; but she was the same shy, sweet Alice, that Ben Bolt had carried through the snow. Ben Bolt had come back. How strange that five years should have passed so quickly, and stranger still that this tall, handsome sailor should be Ben Bolt. Kate Ashley was not thinking of the sweet Sabbath day rest, as the chime of the church bell floated through the village ; there she stood befoie the mirror arranging her shining curls, and fastening her dainty bonnet, with its white ribbon, and droop-inr blue bells, thinking if she could not fascinate Ben with her sparkling eyes ; it would be delightful to have his chief attention during the stay. He thought she did look very beautiful, as he sat, before service, looking on the olden faces ; but there was a fairer one than hers, he fancied, as he saw the sweet face of Alice Miy, with th" half closed eyes, and long, golden-edged lashes, shadowing; the p ile cheek. He carried in his bosom a curl like the one nestling so softly by her temple, nni it wis a talisman, keeping him from tne enchantment of other eyes.' When the service was closed, Ben was thronged about by old familiar faces they had 30 much to say, so many things to apeak of, so much to express a', his safe return, that it well nigh bewildered him. It was very pleasant to be so warmly wel comed by old friends, delightful to chat of I - J 1 Q.LL.iL -f 1 f oy-gooes, ana inueuu a ouuubiu oi joy ior Ben Bolt. Sweet Alice 1 Ah, how long and weary the time had been to her. Sometimes her heart died within her, as she thought of the broad ocean ; but when she looked so shyly at Ben that morning, and saw how handsome he had grown, a heart sickness came over her, and the sunshine fell but dimly at ber feet. She knew she had hidden away, in the depths of her pure heart, a wild early love, and she strove to put it from her ; for, would he think of her now ? So, it was no wonder she should slip her slender hand in her mother's and steal quietly from the joyous throng. It was Sabbath eve one of those balmy, moonlight evenings of the young summer. Mrs. May had gone to visit a sick neighbor, and Alice sat by the window with the Bible open, and her slender white fingers pointing lo the words, falling so musically from her lips: ! " And there shall be no night there ! and they need no candle, neither light of .. .i - t I nj .1. .ki tne sun , lor tue tiom uou girem tueui light, and they shall reign for ever and ever."' She looked tremblingly np in the moon lisht. for close behind her knelt the manly form of Bed Bolt. There was told a sweet story of love and hope, not the less sweet for being tne language oi every numan heart, and the tiny hands of Alice were folded in his as she said, very' low and sweetly : , " If I live, Ben, when five years more have passed, and you return a second time-" ... bhe did not finish it it was never flnishnrl. v ' ' So they plighted their troth, tliat calm, holy Sabbath evening ; and the buoyant heart of Ben, in its gushing sunniness, pictured radiant hopes of the future. He was so young and full of vitality every pulse of bis heart was beating gladly, and the coming five years were more precious to turn than all the past. " If we both live, Ben, God will have us in hia boly keeping," Bhe said in answer s parting words; but, as lie pressed heiconvulsively to his beating heart he uou win db mercnui to tuotewno love so dearly, Alice, darling." She knew it, but she knew, also, that Ood did not alwavs hear tho prayer falling from the hopeful lips. Sweet Alice. Adown the future Bon looked tromblinglv, and as he saw her fragile form and spiritual face, with white lilies braided in the soft brown hair, his eyes grew dim with tears, for he knew not if 'twas a bridal or a burial, for close beside the altar was the grave -yard They were not wanting who wondered at Ben Bolt s choice, and tnou ght it strange he should take Alice May in preference to the fairest and wealthiest, Some there were who held their heads loftily when they passed her, bit her heart wis on the blue waters ana sue ne-ueu it not. How she watched the summer d tys in their p issing. She noted ho the summer waned how the helds ot waving grain gew yellow in the sunlight she hnrd the glad voices of tne reapers ; and when the leaves were failing, the cnildren went nut gathering in the woods ; when the noiseless snow fell, and my on me niu-stue as in olden days, until the genial spring-tide sun melted it away, anu tne violets ana nare-bells dotted the fields. So passed the year. She was growing fairer and mors beautiful too brilliant for anything earthly. Once she knelt at the altar in the little church, and listened to the words uniting her with the Saviour's redeemed on earth ; but it was only an outward form, for her heart had long been m tue Keeping or angels. Again she watched tne waning ot tne summer days, ana wnen me sou wina swept over the silvery rye-fields, she thought ot the ocean aiar, wuu us oroaa , .i . i i waves. All tnrougn me winter aay sne grew more spiritual in her beauty, and the slender white hands were often folded on her breast, and she prayed for those who would soon be left destitute, for she knew she was dying. It did not startle ner ; tor sue baa leit long ago that the fair green earth would hold her pnUpiRsa heart, ere it uaa wtt the cloister of girlhood. Life was sweet and beautiful, yet, in her sinlessness, death had no agony, save her sorrow for those left in loneliness. It was only a very little way to the land of rest and her teet had never grown weary ; yet she longed to look once more upon the flowers and have them braided in her hair ; and so she lingered till the voice of spring was heard on the hil-tops.One morning, when viewless hands were gathering back the misty curtains of the night, and the stars grew dim in the glory of early morn, sweet Alice stood on the threshold of Paradise, and the golden gates were opened to the fair, meek girl. There trembled on her lips a prayer and blessing for Ben Bolt, and her mother, giving radiance to the fair dead face, and they braided spring flowers in her brown hair. The church bell chimed softly to the few years earth had claimed the stainless soul of Alice May, as they brought the coffin in the little old church. How beautitul she looked in her white burial too fair and sweet for death too holy, had there not been a resurrection beyond. Close behind her stood the friends of her girlhood, gazing on that young face as if they would fain call her back to life and its sweet love. So they laid sweet Alice to sleep, in the old church-yard, and those who looked coldly on her, took to their sorrowing hearts a sweet memory of the early dead There was agony too deep for utterance when the strong ardent-hearted man, whose guiding star had been the love of that sweet girl, came back to find the cottage home desolate and Alice sleeping beneath a ktray stone in the church-yard. Bat Qod and titn-i are mercii'ul ; and, as years p isse Inway, he came to think of her as i;ai landed i i the golden fruitage of Edecland. This was the memory that his fri nil sang of, as they sat in the su nmer twilight, years afierwnrd, and talked of the faces that had glimmered and faded in their early path way. Now, of all the glad hearts childhood had clustered together, only tbey two were left. Some slept in the jungle depths; others in the forest shade, and beneath the waving prairie grass. Some there were who slept peacefully in the green old church-yard : and among these the fairest and best was "sweet Alice." Ah, he could never have forgotten that. He had heard from the lips of that desolate mother, ere she went to sleep beside her darling, how patient and holy Alice had grown ; how she had passed calmly away in ber saint-like beauty ; leaving messages that a fond yearning heart could only dictate. Down in his heart, deeper than any other earthly being, he had laid them, cherishing their beauty and green ness. Many a time had the spirit form of . .i. - f l: -ii . i sweet Alice risen oeiore nia eyes iu an me boauty of that far off land he saw but so dimly, and he knew when that thing called life had merged into immortality, he should meet her again. Tears afterward, they laid Ben Bolt to sleep by the side of sweet Alice. Newark, J., 1855. ' t3T Mrs. Partington expresses great apprehension that the people in California wili bleed to death, as every paper she j,,v... -j,... ,.wr,.. ., 3T The reason why many ladies iodgt an offer of marriage is because the question is poppid at them. . The Traitor's End, More than half a century ago, a terrible storm swept over the city of London. It was beating piteously, but an aged clergy man was aroused by a piercing ory for help. He arose threw aside the curtains, and beheld the form of a man, who appeared as a common street-sweeper. The rain poured in torrents, but the imploring aocents of the call induced the preaoher to take the arm of the guide, and threading his way through narrow streets and thoroughfares he arriv ed at a rude dwelling, wherein lay a dying man luaiii A strange tale was his. That very day stranger advanced in life, had fallen speeohless at the scavenger's door. The kindhearted scavenger had lifted him from me pavement, opened for him Ins bed. warmed his feet, administered a cordial and now hewa dying. , .... The apartment was indeed a drearv one. Up a rickety flight of stairs, inside a half- hinge less door, on a pallet of straw, lay this same stranger. The lamp burning dimly on a broken chair ; fading embers were on yonder hearth, a teapot without a handle stood upon it. The rain was beating on the window, and in sundry panes were stuffed coarse pieces of clothing. A valise stood by the bedside it was the only property which the stranger brought with him. The man was half-dressed : bis coat was thrown aside, his neck was loosely en cased within a low shirt collar, but upon ins legs were a pair ot huge military boots. The face ! there was an expression upon it, which once looked upon, would haunt your memory forever I That forehead bold and manly ; hair slightly changed by age ; lips compressed, but yet moving, as if life were loth to quit its hold, and large rolling yes mat gleamed wuu an uneartiily glare. i hat a spectacle I those arms that are brandish in the air, seem clenching a sword, or holding a rifle; a damp, cold sweat starts from that hand, and wildly does he toss himself from side to side on his uneasy couch. Throb and beat, throb and beat, alternately, went the poor man's heart, for he was dying. The clergyman took hold of that clenched hand and gently bending his head, inquired: " My friend hast thou a Christian faith ?" ' Christian ?" he echoed, in a loud voice, for the first time and in a deep tone which made the preacher tremble, " Will Chris tianity give me back my honor ? Go with me over the blue waters. Listen 1 We have arrived. There is my native land, there is the green door yard in which I in my boyhood played, there is the roof of my parental mansion, there is the grave yard ; but where is the flag that used to wave ? Another ensign is floating. My infamy is uttered by the mouths of parents children are taught to loathe my mem ory. Uli, my Uod I the stings of remorse are throbbing in;these very temples, judgments are imprecated by dark demons; a tarnished name, a nation's dishonor, and the curse of unborn infants even now ring through my soul." The minister had watched by many im patient sinners, many rebels, whose bands were stained with blood, but he had never been called to such a death-bed. Suddenly the man arose. With mighty energy he paced the cracking floor. If the storm was without, so was it within, the most terrifio form. Those white, bony fingers laid hold of the valise which stood by the bed-side, and drew from thence a faded military coat, lined with silver, and an old fiarchment, in a piece of damp cloth, that ooked like the wreck of a battle flag. " Look," said the stranger, " this coat is spotted with blood." By-gone days seemed to rise before him " this ooat covered me when I heard of the battle of Lexington, when I planted the flag of triumph on Ticonderoga ; that bullet bole was driven through at the siege of Quebec and now look at me 1 1 am let me whisper in your ear ha I they will hear" one burning word was said only one. " Now help me," he continued, " to put on this coat, for I have no wife, no child to wipe the cold sweat from my brow. I must die alone ; let me die as ou the battle field, without faer." And while he sat arrayed in that tarnished coat, the preacher spoke to him comforting words of faith in Christ, of hope for dying penitents, of mercy pleading with justice, of that faith which lifts olf the crown, and shows us a compassionate Redeemer." Fai h I" again the re-eohoed the dying man. " faith I" the death chill was on his frame, death-light, loo, was in his eye. " List I Is there not Qeorge Washington, over the blue waters relating pleasant stories over his shges ? Is there not Qeorge of England, wailing over lost colonies ? And here am I the first that struck the note of freedom ; the first that gave a blow to the king here am I, dying like a dog, howling over treachery, lost in pangs of remorse. " The preacher stepped bark awe struck. Who was before him ? ' Again the heart throbbed, the death-watch was heard in the wall, the death-rattle seemed hardly suppressed in the throat. " Silence along . the line there I" mur mured the dying stranger; " not a whisp er, not one, for your lives are at stake. Montgomery, we will meet in tho center of the town I Tbere are steep rocks ; silence, every man as we move np the heights. Boys, come on I Hoist the flag of freedom I Hurrah. Now 1 now, one blow more and Quebeo is gone I it is ours 1" A ghostly look is there. The pale cheek and glassy eye, the heaving bosom, the wi Id stare, the death-rattle, the tottering step, and lo I he has fallen I - Who is this strange man dying in a garret T this mark of nobility crushed into a moth T this wretched manias, still olinging to his flag and rflsty uniform T Whence came these fires of remorse T This more than fear of hell T Where's the parchment where Is the flag f Let us unroll the flag. It is a blue banner, with only thirteen stars upon iu But what of the parchment T It is a colonel's commission in the continental army, addressed td Dent did Arnold. Unhonored and unwept, there lay the traitor I His corpse was in a rude house ; he was vnknowa and unpitted, save by strangers. Yet that right arm bad struck many a blow for freedom ; but for one aot of base perfidy, he has fallen forever. Quonched is the light of bis former glory ; remorse hangs like a thunderbolt over his soul, and his last agonies are those of a disgraced man, who might have been a successful hero. Now, in dimly lighted rooms, when the children beg of aged grsndsires to tell them tales of the revolution, Arnold, the traitor, is foremost in their thoughts, and the dreadful effects of treason are narrated. We are told that be left the great metrop olis, that he engaged in commerce, that his warehouses were in IN ova Scotia, that his ships were in many ports ; but in a night his stately warehouse laid in ruins, and the owner was suspected as the incendiary. The entire population of the British provinces assembled in a mass, and in the sight of his wife they hung an effigy, whereon wna. inscribed, V Arnold, the traitor." When he stood beside kings, wtieh in the house of lords, all faces were turned and all fingers raised, one venerable lord arose and declared he could not speak to his sover eign in the presenoe of a traitor. " One day," says a leading historian, from whom we have gathered the leading facts of this history, " in a showy room sut a mother and her two daughters, all attired in the weeds of mourning, grouped in a sad circle, gazing on a picture shrouded in crape. A visitor now advanced ; the mother took his card from the hand of the servant, and her daughters heard his name. " Go," said the mother, rising with a flush ed face, while a daughter took each hand, " go and tell that man that my threshold can never be crossed by the murderer of my son, Arnold, the traitor." This was the individual who was said to have uttered, " I am the only man born in the new world that can raise his hand to God and say, I have not one friend not one in all America 1" Seldom does guilt meet such a retribu tion. The stings of conscience ever goaded him ; has not the despicable wretch who can thus turn traitor, made his own pandemonium while on earth. Can a severer doom await him ? Major Andre. Select itocllcmi). A Michigan Legislator. A friend told us yesterday that our anecdotes of the Legislator that wanted the Constitution to run through his farm, and of his worthy brother who did not think that his constituents had any "senses," reminded him of the freaks of a distinguished Michigan State Senator, who in bis day was the unfailing source of half the fun of the Capitol. Upon one occasion, when some resolutions were under discusion which involved an endorsement of the action of the Michigan delegation in Congress upon the Tariff question, this gentleman sprang on his feet and exclaimed : " Mr. President 1 1 do not care a curse about this plaguy Tariff, but I am afraid that the Whigs will gee a branch of the d d thing in this Slate 1" This same gentleman was at another time made the victim of the sarcasm and irony of a political opponent, who, in a long and personal speech against him, in the Senate Chamber, accused him, among other things, of having " stolen the livery of heaven to serve the devil in."' Our friend rose to reply, violently agitated and trembling with indignation. He said : " Mr. President I this is the first time in my life that I have been accused of stealing! My opponent says I have stolen the Library of Heaven 1 Mr. President, in the most solemn manner, allow me to assure you, that I did not know that there was such a book in print." He was originally from New-Jersey, and was very fond of glorifying that State. Upon these occasions, he always commenced as follows : " Mr. President, the great State of New- Jersey, which State I had the honor to leave," etc These are all pretty hard to beat, but we believe we can still cap the climax by a leaf from our Iloosier reminiscences. It is what we remember of a speech we once heard delivered by a candidate for County Clerk. The orator was one of those lank, shambling men that are almost always found in fever and ague countries, and was dressed in a complete suit of linen, which was at once too large and too small for him. He was troubled at the time with a bad cold in his head, and blew his nose every few moments with his fingers, wiping them after each operation upon the seat of bis pantaloons, which by frequent repetitions of the process, had grown quite sleek and glossy. He began : " Feller citizens I was born in glorious old Knox but was fotch np in Sullivan, and had it not been for the goodness of Providence and some other gentlemen, I would have been as darned a fool as any on you. But I have larned a fust rate ed- ication, and will make as good a clerk, if elected, as Squire Law would be. I bold in my hands an American half eagle.' Up n one side are inscribed the Goddess of Liberty, with her cap upon a bean pole ; upon the other is an eagle, bearing in his mouib a mottar, L 1 lunbus Unum, sign! fying a plurality of unicorns, and if you will step over lo rhil llayne grocery we'll spend it for liquor I" He was not elected. Chicago Tribune. X3T wife, " " My dear," said an affectionate what shall we have for dinner to- day T" " One of your smiles," replied the husband ; " I can dine on that every day." " But I ean'l,'" replied the wife. Then take this," and he gave her a kiss, and went to his business. He returned to dinner. "This is excellent steak," laid he, " what did you pay for it ?" " Why, what yoa gave me this morning, to be sure," replied the wife. , " The deuce yoa did I" exclaimed he, " then you shall have the money next time yoa go to market," W If folly were pain, there would be groaning in svery houw. Bhakspeare Ban Mad-Peter Knight was found wandering in the Fourteenth Ward. The officer could not determine whether he was intoxioated ' or crazy, but, as he said he bad no home, he wus taken in charge as a vagrant. Ha ; had been traversing the streets, with folded arms, talking to himself in odd bits of plays and poems. He possessed a facility of quotation equal to Riohard Swiveller, Esq.'s, but he was as reckless about the exactitude of his extracts, and jumbled up his authorities with as much confusion aa Captain Cuttle himself. He seldom gave a quotation right, but would break oil in the middle and substitute some words of his own, or dovetail in an irrelevant piece from some strange author, or mix uphalf-a-dozen authors with interlopations of bis-own, in an inextricable verbal jumble, i Clerk-rWhafs your name. T. , ; ... ; Prisoner Peter Knight : am a native to the marrow bone that's Shakspeare. Clerk Was you intoxicated yesterday T Prisoner "Tis true, lis pity ; pity tis there isn't the devil a doubt of it that's Scott. Clerk Wbere did you get your liquor ? Prisoner Where the bee sucks, there sucks Peter Knight all day. Thou base, inglorious slave, thinks't thou I will reveal the noble name of him who gave me wine ? No Sir-ee, Bob that's Beau- ' mont and Fletcher. Officer in a whisper If you don't tell you'll have to go to jail. Prisoner I do remember an apothecary and here abouts he dwells no he don't he lives over in the Bowery but in his needy shop a codfish hangs, and on his shelves a beggarly account of empty bottles ; noting this penury to myself, I said, if any man did need a brandy punch, whose sale is fifty dollars fine in Gotham, here lives a caitiff wretch who has probably got plenty of it under the counter. Why should I here conceal my fault T Wine ho I I cried. The call was answered. I have no wine, said he, but plenty of whis . Silence 1 thou pernicious caitiff, quoth I; thou invisible spirit of wine since we can get thee by no other name, why let us call thee gin and sugar. He brought the juice of cursed juniper in a phial, and in the porches of my throat did pour Udolpho Wolfe's distillment. Thus was I by a Dutchman's hand at once dispatched not drunk nor sober, sent into this dirySta-tion-House three-quarters tight, with all 1 my imperfections on my head. The fellow's name ? My very soul rebels. But , whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the cuffs and bruises of this bloody Dutchman or ti take up arms against bis red-haired highness, and by informing end him ? I go and it is done. Villain, hert'j at thy heart I His name, your honor, is Bobblesnoffkin in the Bowtry. That's Shakapeare mixed. - Clftrk Have you got a home ? Prisoner My home is on the deep, deep sea that's Plutarch's Lives. Clerk How do you get your living T Prisoner Doubt thou the stars are fire ; doubt that the sun doth move ; doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt that I'll get a living while the oyster sloops don't nave but one watchman that's Billy 8. again. Clerk Do you pay for your oysters ? Prisoner Base is the slave hit pays ; the speed of thought is in my limbs that's Byron. Clerk Do you steal them and then run away ? Prisoner I've told thee all, I'll tell no more, though short the story be ; let me go back where I was before and I'll get my living without troubling the corporation that's Tom Moore altered to suit cir cumstances. Justice ( evidently at a loss, in a whisper to mystified clerk) I think he's crazy ; what do you think it s Dest to ao witn mm t Prisoner ( overhearing) "Off with his head ; so much" that's Shakspeare curtailed.Justice Will you promise to dispense with the brandy and gin if you are discharged ? Prisoner 0, I could be happy with either were 'tother dear charmer bottled . up and the cork put in that's Dibdin, with a vengeance. Jiirfo-fi What do vou suDDose will be come of you if you go on in this way, liv ing as you nave none i Prisoner Alas, poor i oncx i reter, l mean. Who knows where ne win lay ins bones ? Few and short will the prayers be said, and nobody'U feel any sorrow ; but they'll cram him into his clay cold herf. and burv somebody else on ton of him to-morrow; the minister will come, put on his robe and read the service ; the choir'll sing a hymn ; earth to earth tnd dust to gravel, and that'll De tne last oi Peter Knight. Clerk Peter, we'll hare to send yoa up for ten diys. Prisoner Fare thee well, and if forever all the better that Byron, revised and corrected. PaictioAL Johi or ah InotAjf. A trader in Michigan, being annoyed by a half-drunken Indian, threatened to burn his bottle the next time he brought it with him. A few days afterwards the Indian appeared ' with his pint flask, which the trader instant- . ly seized and thrust into the stove, the In . dian making a hasty retreat. A loud ex- . plosion followed, the stove, the windows, and the trader all flying in different direc- ' tions. The Indian, quietly looking up, observed, " Next time white man burn whis-ky bottle he better see that Duponi't brand isn't on it." A Prihtxb's Toast. At the Franklin . fes ival, recently held in Lowell, the following excellent sentiment was proposed, and most heartily responded to by iho company: v The Printer the master of all Trade. . He beats the former with his fast " Hoe,",,' the carpenter with his rule, and the mason ( in letting up tall column, he surpasses the ( lawyer and doctor in attending to his taif ; and beats the parson ia the management ' of the Devil. . , , , , Jfy Labor is one of the gTeatt ele ments of socVy--the gro k'.:tantial in terett on which all mon depend. -w.-",n!!ffTTE!iiMiT!ifr i i ' ' ! I , ) ' 1 ' III