Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

and no one shall know; she'll treat you as it becomes her like to treat a lady, rich or poor. The cab is ready. Now, keep a heart: God is above us all. I'll open the door myself," she continued; "and the trunk is in; and keep up, miss-lies are found out sooner or later. Why," she exclaimed, secing that Emily paused opposite the drawing. room, surely you are not a going to be more insulted? You might as well talk to a stone wall as to my missus."

[ocr errors]

ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS.

For the Rural Repository.

CHANGE.

BY AARON DE LANO.

away, and is forgotten. Instead of gloomy for-
ests, splendid, magnificent and densely populated
cities rise-flourish their brief hour-then in their
turn crumble to dust-briars and brambles spring
up upon their once crowded streets, and not a ves-
tige now remains to proclaim their existence to the
traveller.

"CHANGING, changing, ever changing," comprises the history of the world and its inhabitants, from its creation to the present period of time. The Emily nevertheless entered the apartment, boy of yesterday steps forth upon the stage of acwhere Mrs. Hylier was alone, pondering, in notion, the man of to-day-to-morrow he passeth pleasant mood, over the occurrences of the past hours-thinking how she had acted in decided opposition to her husband's desired, who willed it that Mr. Byfield was never to be contradicted, at least in his house; and though she was half convinced of Emily's unworthiness, she knew how hard it would be to convince him. The pale girl walked sitently up to where Mrs. Hylier was seated. "I come," she said, " to bid you remember what I say-that you will (heartless as you are) repent the unjustice and insult you have heaped upon the head of a houseless, homeless orphan. You have done me cruel wrong by your suspicion, and you send me forth to make the suspicion real; but God, who is above all, will save me yet!"

She spoke these few words in the tone of a breaking heart, and without further word quitted the house. During the short time of her residence there, she had conferred more lasting service upon Mrs. Hylier's children than they had ever received before-she had sown healthful and truthful seed. Not content with teaching by lessons, she hallowed every tree, and leaf, and blade of grass, with a history. A new existence and dawned upon their minds: they understood why their hoop rolled, and why it came to the ground; they understood why morning followed night, and why the heat was at noon the most intense. They had learned more orally than they had ever learned from books. Poor Emily knew this; and as her arm encircled her trunk, and her hot fevered breath hung upon the closed windows of the rattling cabriolet, that was taking her she knew not where, the words of the French teacher rang in her ears-Torment the flesh off your bones-plague yourself to deathfag, fag, and see! At the last. you will have no more thanks for your heavy toil than I for my light labor' 66 Still," she murmured," I have done

my duty."

[ocr errors]

The Seasons Change. But a short time ago, Winter, with its snowy mantle and ice-bound streams, was upon us. Spring came next, with its beauteous flowers and fragrant blossoms. Now Summer succeeds with its heated air and lengthened days—and soon the faded, yellow leaf, the ripened harvest and the chilling rain, will tell, in language too plain to be misinterpreted, that sober, melancholy Autumn is here.

Nations Change. The Student of History, however cursorily he may have examined the subject, cannot have failed to perceive, that change has been an essential ingredient in the history of every nation, that has ever existed upon the face of the globe. Greece and Rome had their infancy, manhood, old age and death. Feeble at first, by degrees they arose to such a pitch of greatness, that the whole of the known world felt the impress of their power. Conquest after conquest added lustre to the glory of their arms and kingdoms, enipires and dominions became their tributaries. But change, slow and gradual, yet the no less sure, was upon them. Like Samson of old, shorn of his locks, they were deprived of their strength, and thus became an easy prey to the rapacity of those nations they had despised for their weakness and incapacity.

with irresistible speed. O, a fearful change has been theirs, the once undisturbed and happy possessors of this soil. Driven by the force of circum. stances from the land of their nativity, they have dwindled down to a few weak tribes-the last sad remnant of a once powerful nation. They have gone-but the lover of his race will often shed the silent tear over their destiny-a tear of bitter lamentation over the rapacity of frail human nature. They have gone-but the tale of the deep wrongs they have endured, has been registered on highrecorded in heaven.

We Change. Life is to every one but a series of changes. The period of childhood, youth, manhood and old age, serve but to mark those changes more forcibly. Our hopes, our feelings, our joys, our friendships, our affections change. Our whole character, whether we are aware of it or not, is constantly undergoing radical change. Change we do, and change we must, till seized by the grim messenger, Death, we shall change to change no

more.

Maine Village, N. Y. 1850.

MISCELLANY.

THE BETTING DANDY.

THE young gentleman-with a medium-sized light brown moustache, and a suit of clothes such as fashionable tailors sometimes furnish to their customers, "on accommodating terms," that is, on the insecure credit system-came into a hotel in Race street, one afternoon, and, after calling for a glass of Madeira turned to the company and offered to bet with any man present, that the Susquenannah would not be successfully launched. This" banter" not being taken up, he proposed to wager five dollars that Dr. Webster would not be hung. This seemed to be a "stumper," too, for nobody accepted the chance. The exquisite glanc. ed around contemptuously and remarked:

"I want to make a bet of some kind; I don't care a fig what it is. I'll bet any man from a shilling's worth of cigars to five hundred dollars. Now's your time, gentlemen; what do you pro

pose ?"

though he might be a Pennsylvania farmer. He set down his glass, and addressed the exquisite

A few centuries ago this large continent was one dense wilderness, whose stately trees were strangers Sipping a glass of beer in one corner of the barto the woodman's axe. A simple, unsophistica-room, sat a plain old gentleman, who looked us ted people wandered through its trackless wilds, subsisting almost entirely by hunting and fishing. "Please, ma'am," said the man to an elderly Their fathers had lived so before them-their tra. woman who opened the door of a small house in a ditions had spoken of no other mode of life, and low suburb, here's a lady, like, your daughter in they vainly supposed that they and their descen Kensington has sent you, as a lodger; and youdants, unchanged, would be permitted by the Great are to be particular kind to her, and she'll try and run down to-morrow night, between lights. The fare is paid, miss-the young woman paid it. She said she knew you hadn't changed your cheque." Mary's mother did not look as good natured as Mary herself, But Emily was so bowed down as. hardly to observe the difference.

"Well," said the woman to her youngest daughters-"well, I never saw any one so careless about accommodation. Why, she said, the back would do as well as the front room, though I told her she might have either at the same rent; and if I had not undressed her, she'd have either sat up all night, or lain down in her clothes. She's more like a dead than a living woman."

Concluded in our next.]

Spirit so to live through all coming time. But the
scene has changed with them. The red man has
gradually receded before the approach of his more
pale-faced fellow. The gloomy wilderness has
given place to cultivated fields. Upon the spot
where once the Indian wigwam alone was seen, the
stately and magnificent palace rears its lofty head.
Cities, with gilded domes and spires that seem to
pierce the very skics-the hum of business and
the din of civilized life, mark the spot where once
were a few scarcely habitable huts. The burial
place, so long held sacred by the Indians, has been
desecrated by the ruthless invader of his fireside
and his home. The noiseless, light canoe has given
place to the puffing steamboat, and on the scarcely
discernible trail, the rail-road car is urging its way

"Well, Mister-I'm not in the habit of making bets-but seeing you are anxious about it, I don't care if I gratify you. So I'll bet you a levy'a worth of sixes that I can pour a quart of molases into your hat, and turn it out a solid lump of molasses candy in two minutes by the watch."

Done!" said the exquisite, taking off his hat and handing it to the farmer.

It was a real Florence hat, a splendid article, that shone like black satin. The old gentleman took the hat, and requested the bar-keeper to send for a quart of molasses-" the cheap sort, at six a quart, that's the kind I use in the experiment," said he, handing over six coppers to the bar-keeper.

The molasses was brought, and the old farmer, with a very grave and mysterious countenance, poured it into the dandy's hat, while the exquisite took out his watch to note the time. Giving the hat two or three shakes, with a Signor-Blitz-like adroitness, the experimenter placed it on the table,

"Time up," said the dandy.

and stared into it, as if watching the wonderful she was twenty years of age, and she has ever process of solidification. since worn mourning, and remained true to his memory. Jane is now the only survivor of the three; her admirable mother and her sister having died some twelve or fourteen years ago, and Sir Robert having died lately, while revisiting England, after many years diplomatic residence in{ Venezuela.

The old farmer moved the hat. "Well, I do believe it ain't hardened," said he, in a tone expressive of disappointment; "I missed it, some how or other, that time, and I suppose I've lost the bet. Bar-keeper, let the gentleman have the cigars-twelve sixes, mind, and charge 'em in the bill.".

"What of the cigars!" roared the exquisite, "you've spoiled my hat, that cost me five dollars, and you must pay for it."

"That wasn't in the bargain," timidly answered the old gentleman; but I'll let you keep the molasses-which is a little more, than we agreed

for."

Having drained the tenacious fluid from his beaver, as he best could, into a spit-box, the man of moustaches rushed from the place-his fury not much abated by the sounds of ill-suppressed laugh. ter which followed his exit. He made his complaint at the police-office, but, as it appeared that the experiment was tried with his own consent, no daniages could be recovered.

From the Home Journal.

JANE PORTER,

A REPROOF OF FOPPERY. DEAN SWIFT was a great enemy to extravagance in dress, and particularly to that destructive ostentation in the middling classes, which led them to make an appearance above their condition in life. Of his mode of reproving this folly in those persons for whom he had an esteem, the following instance has been recorded. When George Faulkner, the printer, returned from London, where he had been soliciting subscriptions for his edition of the Dean's works, he went to pay his respects to him, dressed in a laced waistcoat, a bag wig, and other foppeSwift received him with the same ceremony as if he had been an entire stranger. "And pray, sir," said he, "what are your commands with ine?" "I thought it was my duty sir," replied George, "to wait upon you immediately upon my arrival from London." "Pray, sir, who are you?" “George Faulkner, the printer, sir." You George Faulkner, the printer! Why, you are the most in

ries.

66

AUTHORESS OF "SCOTTISH CHIEFS," ," "THADDEUS OF pudent, bare-faced scoundrel of an impostor I ever

WARSAW," ETC, etc.

THIS distinguished woman died recently at Bristol, at the age of seventy four. We shall, doubtless, soon have an authentic biography of her, from some one to whom her papers and other materials will have been entrusted by the brother who survives her; but, meantime, let us yield to the tide of remembrance which her death has awakened, and arrest, ere they float by and are lost, the scattered leaf-memorics that may recal the summers when we knew her.

away with a flea in his car.

THE NEGRO'S ADVENTURE. "LORRA mighty, massa! you don't know how I was skeered yesterday."

"How so," I asked.

met with! George Faulkner is a plain, sober citizen, and would never trick himself out in lace and other fopperies. Get you gone, you rascal, or I will immediately send you to the House of Correction." Away went George as fast as he could, and having changed his dress, returned to the Deanery, where he was received with the greatest cordiality. "My friend George," says the Dean, "I am glad to see yon returned safe from London. Why, here has been an impudent fellow with me just now, dressed in a lace waistcoat, and he would Miss Porter was the daughter of a gallant Eng-fain pass himself off for you, but I soon sent him lish officer, who died, leaving a widow and four children, then very young, but three of them des tined to remarkable fame, Sir Robert Ker Porter, Jane Porter, and Anna Maria Porter. Sir Robert as is well known, was the celebrated historical painter, traveller in Persia, soldier, diplomatist, and authof, lately deceased. He went to Russia with "Well, John, who lives a little back here, asked one of his great pictures when very young, married me jist to fotch up his horse, which comes down a wealthy Russian Princess, and passed his subse- here a feedin', in a little opening which turns off quent years between the camp and diplomacy, hon. the road out dar. So about sundown I takes my ored and admired in every station and relation of tin-pan and goes down to look for 'im. Welt, as I his life. The two girls were playmates and neigh- went along, jest afore I came to de opening, I tort bors of Sir Walter Scott. Jane published her I'd try to dance a jig, what de sailor men used to "Scottish Chiefs," at the age of eighteen, and be-sing and dance at de fort. So I begin-tink a tink came immediately the great literary wonder of her on de tin-pan, and singing de wordstime. Her widowed mother, however, withdrew Did you eber see de debbil, her immediately from society to the seclusion of a Shubble grabble, shubble grabbleWid a wooden iron shubble, country town, and she was little seen in the gay And an iron wooden ladle! world of London before several of her works had become classics. Anna Maria, the second sister, commenced her admirable series of novels soon after the first celebrity of Jane's works, and they wrote and passed the brightest years of their life together in a cottage retreat. The two sisters were singularly beautiful. Sir Thomas Lawrence was an unsuccessful suitor to Anna Maria, and Jane was engaged to a young soldier who was killed in the Peninsula. She is a woman to have but one love in a lifetime. Her betrothed was killed when

}

"All dis time I was lookin' down to see if I kep de step. Den jist as I turn into de opening, I begin again

Did you

eber see de debbil, &c. *

"O, lorra massa! I hear something growl an' I look up, and dare was free of 'em-free of the orfullest big barrs, makin mutton ob dat hoss. I heard de Oregon fellers say, when you reets a barr you've got to keep on doin' jist what you've been doin' on afore, or dey will pitch into you. So I tries to keep on singin' and dancin', but my heart

was up in my mouf; an' my feet was heavy as lead an' all I could do was to keep tink-a-tink a At last I shuv dis foot a little little on de pan. back, an' den todder; an' bym.by, I got a little bref to sing

Did you eber, did you eber

"All dis while, dem drefful barrs were looking at me, wid de blood runnin' out ob dar moufs.Well, massa, I kep on tink-a.tink; did you eber, an' shuv back, faster an' faster, until I slip by de if corner ob de clearin'; an' den massa, eber you did see lightnin' come down a dead pine tree, you see how dis nigger streek it. I run all de way to John's house, and dar I fell down mos" dead.Well, dar I lay puffin' an' blowin' till John come out an' giv me a mouful ob brandy; an' bym-by I got bref enuf to tell him about it, an' he's goin' to get folks to turn out for a barr hunt; but if he ketch his child goin' I don't belief."-Notes on California.

THE ROBIN AND CANARY.
A FABLE BY MRS. COMSTOCK.

A ROBIN happened in one of his rambles to alight on the cage of a canary, who hung in a pleasant bowed window, and was shaded by clemetis and honeysuckle.

"Peet," cried the canary, twisting his little neck to look up at his visitor.

"Good morning to you," cried the robin, “you look vastly well, as might be expected, lodged as you are in that pretty cage."

"Thank you," said the canary, "I know that I have much to be grateful for. How green is this ciematis, and how fragrant is this honeysuckle.”

It is galling to my pride to live as I do, while others are so nicely lodged," said the robin." There I have been mewed up half my life in that old flower pot under the eaves."

"Yet it is pleasant there. How nicely the large horse-chesnut shades it, and in June how fragrants its blossoms must smell." As he spoke, the goodnatured little comforter hopped on to his highest perch, and turned up his mild black eye at his friend.

"It is very well you, Mr. Yellow-breeches," cried the robin, in a passion, " to praise my mode of life in such high terms, lodged as you are amid luxuries, and in no danger of being similarly situated. Just try it for yourself a month."

"that

"You forget," meekly replied the canary, you have one luxury denied to me." "That is what?" "The power of going wherever you please." "Sure enough," said the robin, " I had quite forgotten that. How irksome it must be to you, to hop from perch to perch through the day without getting any further." As he said this, the robin darted into the air, and performing several rapid evolutions, re-alighted, quite out of breath on the the cage.

66

86

Finely done," said the unenvious canary.My wings have been cramped too long for such feats as those. But, my friend when hereafter you feel dissatisfied with your broken flower pot, and long for these gilt lodgings, remember that they are bought at the expense of one half of my faculties. Cherish, then, your old home, whose door is ever open, and from which yon can soar, while I, in my splendid dwelling, conscious of my latent powers, and sustained under privation only by a

resigned spirit, am condemned to one eternal hop."

PROGRESS OF A POUND OF COTTON.

THE following account of the adventures of one pound of manufactured cotton, will show the importance of manufactures to a country in a very conspicuous manner:

"There was sent off for London, lately, from Glasgow, a small piece of muslin, about one pound weight, the history of which is as follows:-The cotton came from the United States to London; from London it went to Manchester, where it was manufactured into yarn; from Manchester it was sent to Paisley, where it was woven; it was sent to Ayrshire next, where it was tamboured; afterwards it was conveyed to Dunbarton, when it was handsewed, and again returned to Paisley, when it was sent to a distant part of the country of Renfrew, to be bleached, and was returned to Paisley; then sent to Glasgow, and was finished; and from Glas. gow was sent per coach to London. It is difficult precisely to ascertain the time taken to bring this article to market, but it may be pretty near the truth to reckon it two years from the time it was packed in America, till its cloth arrived at the mer. chant's warehouse in London, whither it must have been conveyed 3000 miles by sea, and 920 by land, and contributed towards the support of no less than 150 people, whose services were necessary in the carriage and manufacture of this small quanity of cotton, and by which the value has been advanced 2000 per cent. What is said of this piece is discriptive of no inconsiderable part of the trade."

[ocr errors]

THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.

ONE cold winter, when the ground was so covered with snow that the little birds could not find any thing to eat, the little daughter of a miserly rich man gathered up all the crumbs she could find, and was going to carry them out and scatter them on the snow. Her father saw her, and asked her what she was going to do. She told him, and he said, What good will it do? The crumbs will not be enough to feed one in a hundred of the birds." "I know it, dear father," said she," but I shall be glad to save even one in a hundred of them, if I

[ocr errors]

cannot save them all."

The father thought a moment; he knew that many poor persons were suffering in his village, and he refused to help any because he could not help them all. His consience struck him, and he told his little daughter to break a loaf of bread and crumbs for the birds, while he went to scatter a purse of money among the poor villagers.

TRUST IN GOD.

es over them, will also watch over me and my fa-
mily."

Thus he lived tranquil, while the other neither
tasted repose or joy.

DREADFUL FIRE.

BETWEEN 2 and 3 o'clock, last Saturday morning, our citizens were aroused from their slumbers by the alarming cry of fire. It commenced in the Cabinet Shop of C. Duxbury, on the south side of Warren-street, between Fifth and Sixth-sts.

space of a few hours, a dozen or more buildings with the Lumber Yard of Macy & McClellan, were in flames. The loss of property is estimated at $30,000 to $35,000; we believe

the insurance will nearly cover the losses.

One day as the latter was laboring in the field, Although every exertion was made by our Firemen; in the sad and downcast because of his fears, he saw some birds go in and out of a plantation. Having approached, he found two nests placed side by side. and in each several young ones newly hatched and still unfledged. When he returned to his work, he frequently looked to these birds as they went out and returned carrying nourishment to their young broods. But behold at the moment when one of the mothers was returning with her bill full, a vulture seizes her, carries her off, and the poor mother vainly snuggling in his grasp, utters a piercing

cry.

At this sight, the man who was working felt his soul more troubled than before; for he thought the death of the mother was the death of the young.

"Mine have only me-no other. What will become of them if I fail them."

All the day he was gloomy and sad, and at night he slept not. On the morrow as he returned to the field he said:

"I should like to see the little ones of that

ANOTHER FIRE.

On the evening of the same day, between 8 and 9 o'clock, a fire broke out in the barn of Robert McKinstry, and before the flames could be subdued, they swept across the alley and caught, the rear buildings next, and thus it again made its appearance in Warren-street, burning a number of stores and dwellings. The loss is estimated at about $10,000, the insurance will probably cover the loss.

DOCT. GOODRICH'S MEDICINES.

THE Medicines of the late DOCT. GOODRICH, may be had at E, P. L. ELMER'S Book Store, N. J. CADY'S Oyster Saloon and H. H. CRANDALL'S Drug and Chemical Store; also at the Rural Repository Office.

MARRIAGES.

In this elty, on the 4th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Marks, Mr. John Pinder, of Catskill, to Mrs. Hannah Salisbury, of Greenpust.

On the 2d inst. by the Rev. Henry Darling, Mr. Philo
McAlpine, of New-York, to Miss Mary Louisa, daughter of

poor mother. Several, without doubt, have already H. B. Van Deusen, Esq of this city.
perished."

He set off towards the plantation, and looking
into the nests, he saw the young ones alive and
well; not one seemed to have suffered. Astonished
After a
at his, he hid himself to see the cause.
while he heard a slight cry, and perceived the other
mother bringing back in haste the food she had
gathered which she distributed without distinc-
tion among the birds. There was some for each,
and the orphans were not abandoned in their
misery.

In the evening, the father who had distrusted
Providence, related to the other father what he had
scen, who observed-

[blocks in formation]

THERE were two neighbors, who had each a PRESIDENT TAYLOR died, at his residence in Washington, wife and several little children, and their wages as on Tuesday, the 9th inst in the 66th year of his age. The death of this truly great man has caused the note of lamencommon laborers were their only daily support.tation to be sounded from one end of the Union to the other. One of these men was fretful and disquieted, say- That all this has been, so suddenly, in the short space of a few ing:

[blocks in formation]

days, terminated by "the fell sergeant Death," is a matter of
more than ordinary regret; and while the public at large are
grieving at the loss of so ardent and useful a laborer, those who
had the happiness of being numbered among his personal
friends, suffer the added sorrow which must ever be paid to
worth like his. His decease is only one among so many
events of a similar nature that together they may be said,
We
to darken the present period, and render it remarkable.
cannot behold the departure of those mighty men whom time
is continually pushing off the stage, to make room for others,
without many conflicting and mournful emotions.

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

Oh, hark: what sound is this I hear,

It floats upon the moaning winds,
And sighs as though 'twould drop a tear
For some loved one it left behind.
Ab me! I think I now can tell

For whom the sighing winds doth mourn→
'Tis Emeline! we loved so well;

She's gone, from whence she'll ne'er return.
Alas, dear girl, how can it be,

That death our social board must break,
By choosing one so kind as thee,

And leave no one thy seat to take.
That vacant seat we often see,
Where'er we go by night or day;
A seat that once was filled by thee,
But now, alas: how far away!

A link is taken from our chain,
Which time nor gold cannot replace;
Yes, earth has lost, but heaven has gained
A lovely form, a smiling face.

O could she speak, she'd say," Weep not,
Though worms my flesh must now destroy,
And time and mould my bones must rot,
For now I reign where all is joy."
Then mother dear, why do you mourn,
For her who once thy circle blest,
Since Death has marked her for his own,
And laid her in his urins to rest.

prese.

O, brother, dear, oft will you find
The things that once she here possessed,
And often will they call to mind,
The days when she, your hand could
But now, alas! how changed the scene,
How far away she now must dwell,
We trust, in Heaven, by angels seen,

So weep not, mother-all is well.
Schoolmates and friends, we'll sigh no more,
For her we always loved so well;
For soon we'll meet on that blessed shore-
Dear Emeline! then fare thee well.

At Chatham, on the 21st ult. Mr. Timothy Rogers, aged 85

[blocks in formation]

www

Original Poetry.

For the Rural Repository.
MUSINGS OVER AN OLD LETTER.

BY MISS C. W. BARBER.

I HOLD a lettered sheet,

'Tis filled with hopes and fears, With joys that called forth smiles

With griefs, that ea led forth tears

The hand that traced this page,

Hath been in dust for years.

She was my older sister

Day by day she lovelier grew,

Like some fair floweret in the wood,

Gem'd by the crystal dew;

Light form she had-rich auburn hair,
And sunny eyes of blue.

All called her beautiful

We only said that she was dear,

For when she passed from hearth and home Each haunt seem'd chill and dear;

We weeping look'd and said,

"A light hath vanished here."

Not one of us wept 'round,

When stranger's made her grave,

And laid her down with prayers and hymns,
Beyond lake Erie's wave,

Not one save him, unto whose care,
Her love she trustful gave.

Yes, he stood there, with pallid brow,
With quivering lip and eye half wild,
And thought how good thou wert,

How kind-how loved-how mild,
While strangers held high o'er thy grave,
Thy wailing infant ehild..

All this bath come and passed,
Since first this sheet was traced,
With hopes-how unfulfilled!

With joys-time's hand effaced;
A bridal crown-Death's icy wreath
Since then thy brow hath graced.

[blocks in formation]

Oft in the still and starry night.

When dew comes down upon the flowers, I dream I hear a voice beloved, Whisper of fadeless bowers; My sister. hast thou reach'd that clime That fairer home than ours?

"Tis strange-'tis passing strange,
If spirits ere may visit here,

Thou hast not plumed a downward wing
Towards those thou held'st so dear,
With tidings from the spiri land,
Our weary hearts to cheer.

No letter from the unseen world,
No messenger is nigh,

And yet we fondly say, and believe,
That thou art blessed on high;
If I can only join thee there,
I will not fear to die.

Madison, Geo. June 29, 1850.

--

For the Rural Repository.

THE QUEEN OF THE ROSES.
BY IAAC COBB.

THE Queen of the Roses I trow ye have seen,
Though Monk's-hood deceitful and Columbine blue,
Would rejoice to be able their rival to screen,
That her thousand admirers might languish to view.

But the Queen of the Roses will call to her aid,
The first of the fair who may ramble that way;
So that the intruders perchance. shall be made,
The sport of king Sol in a worthless bouquet.

Thus the youth who would quaff from the chalice of fame,
One draught of the nectar that gaddens the mind,
Must falter and die from the want of a name,
To rank with the wealthy and feals of mankind.

But Justice may raise his omnipotent arm,

And crush in a moment the monsters of pride, So that merit and virtue sball think of no harm, In quiet pursuing the paths they have tried, Gorham, Maine, July, 1850.

REMEMBERED LOVE.

DY BRYAN W. PROCTOR.

On power of love! so fearful and so fair-
Life of our life on earth yet kin to care-
Oh! thou day-dreaming spirit who dost look
Upon the future as the charmed book
Of Fate were open'd to thine eyes alone-
Thou who dost cull, from moments stolen and
Into eternity, memorial things,

To deck the days to come-thy revelings
Were glorious and beyond all others. Thou
Didst banquet upon beauty once; and now
The ambrosial feast in ended! Let it be
Enough to say "It was." Oh! upon me,
From thy o'ershadowing wings ethereal,
Shake odorous airs, so may my senses all
Be spell-bound to thy service, beautiful power,
And on the breath of every coming hour
Send me faint tidings of the things that were

CONTEMPLATED SUICIDE.

gone

This fellow is in a bad way, sure-hear him.

I KNOW 'tis a sin too

But I'm bent on the notion.

I'll throw myself into

The deep briny ocean,
Where mud-eels and cat-fish
On my body shall riot,
And flounders and flat fish
Select me fr diet;
There soundly I'll slumber
Beneath the rough billow,
And crabs without number
Shall crawl o'er my pillow;

But my spirit shall wander through gay coral bowers,
And frisk with the mermaids-it shall, by the powers.

[blocks in formation]
[graphic]

www

We now offer to the Public. at the lowest possible reduced prices, any of the following Volumes. viz: Vols 11, 12. 16, 17. 18. 19, 20, 21 23, 24 and 25. handsomely done ap in Pamphlet style. with Cloth Backs, and thick Colored Paper sides; one side printed with Title Page, the other with beautiful Engravings. These will be furnished for 624 Cents single, Eleven Copies for $5.00. They will last nearly as long as those bound, and as they are trimmed a size larger it will not injure them for future binding.

Also the same Volumes half bound in a very neat and tasteful style with Leather Backs and Colored Paper sides. with Printed Title Page, &c. for 75 Cents single, or Nine Copies for $5.00.

Also the same volumes half bound, in a neat, substantial and durable manner, with Leather Backs and Corners. Marble Paper sides and Lettered on the Back, for $1,00 single, or Seven Copies for $5.00.

The Postage on the Stitched Volumes, will be about 16 Cents; the Half Bound, 182 Cents to any part of the United States.

We have also on hand any of the Volumes above mentioned bound in Double Volumes (two Vols. in one) for $2,00 single or Three Double Volumes for $4 50. These are bound in the neatest and most substantial manner. Postage about 40 Cts. each to any part of the United States.

New Volume, October, 1849.

RURAL REPOSITORY,

Vol. 26, Commencing Oct. 13, 1849.

EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.

Price $1 Clubs from 45 to 75 Cents. THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be devoted to Polite Literature, containing Moral and Sentimental Tales, Original Communications. Biographies, Traveling Sketches. Amusing Miscellany. Humorous and Historical Anecdotes, Valuable Recipes. Poetry, &c. The first Number of the Twenty-sixth Volume of the RURAL REPOSITORY will be issued on Saturday the 13th of October, 1849.

The Repository" circulates among the most intelligent families of our country and is hailed as a welcome visitor, by all that have favored us with their patronage. It has stood the test of more than a quarter of a century; amid the many changes that have taken place and the ups and downs of life, whilst hundreds of a similar character have perished, our humble Rural has continued on, from year to year, until it is the Oldest Literary Paper in the United States.

CONDITIONS.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be published every other Saturday in the Quarto form, containing twenty six numbers of eight pages each. with a title page and index to the volume, making in the whole 208 pages. It will also be embellished with numerous Engravings, and consequently it will be one of the neatest, cheapest, and best literary papen in the country.

TERMS.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

All

No subscription received for less than one year. the back numbers furnished to new subscribers during the year until the edition is out, unless otherwise ordered.

WILLIAM B. STODDARD. Hudson, Columbia, Co. N. Y. 1849.

NOTICE TO AGENTS, &c.

The present Post Office Law, will probably prevent our sending a Large Prospectus as heretofore, in consequence of the extra expense; but the matter contained in one, and all the necessary information concerning Clubs, etc. can be ascer tained from the above. We respectfully solicit all our subscribers to endeavour to get up a Club in their vicinity for the next Volume.

EDITORS, who wish to exchange, are respectfully re quested to give the above a few insertions, or at least a notice and receive Subscriptions.

[graphic]

ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM.

VOLUME XXVI.

T

[ocr errors]

Semi-monthly Journal, Embellished with Engravings.

ALES

W. B. STODDARD, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 1850.

THE GOVERNESS.

FROM MRS. S. C. HALL'S TALES OF WOMAN'S TRIALS:

[Concluded

Part the Third.

THE next morning the pat, pat, pat, of Mr. Byfield's cane was heard ascending the steps leading to Mr. Hylier's hall door; his knock had the determined sound of "I will come in." "Remember, James," said the mistress," popping" her head out of the breakfast-room. "I am not at home-I shall not be home all day-I am out for a weekwent down to meet your master last night." James bowed, and the lady disappeared

"My mistress is not at home, sir," observed the sapient footman. Mr. Byfield poked him aside with his cane, and having entered the hall, said, "I want to speak to Miss Dawson."

"Good morning, madam!" he said, with the exceeding courtesy of an angry man, before the storm that has gathered, breaks. "Good morning. Will you have the kindness to tell me where Miss Dawson is gone, and why she is gone?"

Mrs. Hylier suffered Mr. Byfield to repeat his question before she answered; she was debating within herself whether she should assume a tone of indignant and outraged propriety, or that of gentic upbraiding; her temper triumphed, and she lost sight of her husband's interests and her husband's wishes. In loud and unqualified terms she upbraided Mr. Byfield with what she termed his sinful duplicity, in forcing a person, whom she called by no gentle name, into her house; exhausted a dictionary of epithets upon Miss Dawson-talk. ed wildly and at random of depravity-and wound all up by a movement something between an hy. steric and a faint. Mr. Byfield sat-his great gray eyes dilating and contracting, like those of a cat in the sunshine, according as his passions were "Miss Dawson, sir, left the house last night." moved; and notwithstanding his age, such was "Left last night! Then where is she gone?" their fire, that they would have scorched the noisy "Really can't say, sir; she's left for good, trunk fragile thing-who had sunk into her luxurious and all." chair a trembling heap of mull-muslin and English "Left-gone; but surely you must know where blonde-if she had had the moral courage once to she drove to ?" look him fairly and bravely in the face. There sat "The housemaid saw her off, sir." Mr. Byfield Mr. By field, white and motionless- -so white, that commanded Mary to appear; but she, having al- the flakes of his snowy hair could hardly be distinways lived" in the best families," lied with super-guished from his cheek; his eyes flashing, as I jor firmness. "The very words Miss Dawson said, sir, were, Tell the cab to drive to Oxford Street, and then I will direct him the number;' these were her last words sir, and I can tell no more." Ring the bell!" she said, at last perceiving Mary was in haste-not agitated by the untruth-that he took no more notice of her sons than he had so she stayed for no farther questiou but dived down done of her words: "Ring the bell!" He neither the kitchen stairs. spoke nor moved; and at last the lady essayed to do it herself. He seized her arm-and Lord Lindsay's mailed glove did not press more deeply into the soft arm of Mary of Scotland, than did the old man's animated bones into the wrist of Mrs. Hy"Not for a week. She's gone down to where lier. She screamed with spleen and pain, but remaster's stopping."

[ocr errors]

"Now," said the old gentleman, "I must see your mistress."

"Not at home," repeated James. "When will she be at home?"

"That's the third falsehood you have told since I came into this ball, young man," observed Mr. Byfield. "Your mistress cannot have gone down to where your master is, because business obliged your master to come to my house this morning, even before he visited his own ;" and Mr. Byfield turned and entered the breakfast-room so suddenly as almost to knock down the fair mistress of the mansion, who certainly, was as close to the door as if she had been about to open it for her unwelcome intruder.

have said; his long bony fingers grasping either
knee, and grasping it so tightly, that the dark veins
stood out like purple ridges on his hands.

66

PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.

NUMBER 22.

and called herself an ill-used woman. At last the old man, gathering up his energics, spoke. He stated fairly and plainly, in agitated tones, that he had placed Miss Dawson with Mrs. Hylier, because he wished to observe how she would bear the ill and careless manner in which he knew she would be treated. It was (he said) of paramount importance to him, that he should observe how she bore up against the disagreeableness of her situa. tion; it had not (be continued) escaped him, that, as long as the impression remained upon Mrs. Hylier's mind, that it would please him to be kind to his protegee, she was tolerably considerate; but when she found that he neglected her altogether— the circumstance that would have drawn a noble mind to be more gracious to one so utterly deserted by the world rendered Mrs. Hylier careless and unfeeling. Mr. Byfield had his own way of doing every thing; and there is little doubt, from his own statement, that he would have gone on, heap ing mystery on mystery, had he not been suddenly aroused to a sense of Miss Dawson's uncom. plaining illness, by her appearance in the park; and, after much mental deliberation, he determin. ed-still after his own strange fashion--to provide her a quiet home, and be himself the bearer of his reasons to Mrs Hylier.

"I thought," he said, "that fertile as you and your friend Mrs. Ryal are in attributing impurity to pure motives, you would hardly have dared to pin a slander upon these white hairs, or suppose that so single-minded and self-sacrificing a creature as Miss Dawson would rush into vice-and such vice! I did imagine, indeed, that you would have considered me her father; but to have thought and acted as you have done to have turned her penny less"

"I did not!" screamed Mrs. Iylier; "I gave her a month's salary-1-1"--and then she appealed to Mr Hylier, to know why he suffered her to be insulted; and losing all command of herself, reiterated her opinion of Mr. Byfield's conduct.

"For shame," said her husband. "Mr. Byfield, I entreat you to consider how Mrs. Hylier has been acted upon by the misrepresentations of Mrs. Ryal. She does not think her own thoughts, or speak her own words."

sumed her seat. And there he continted to sit op.
posite to her, without trusting himself to speak,
yet, by his presence, effectually preventing her
moving. Suddenly Mr. Hylier's well-known knock
resounded through the house. There was a rush
of light young feet-the echoes of the beatings of "I do!" repcated the foolish woman. "If it is not
anxious hearts-and exclamations of "Oh, papa!" as 1-say what connexion is he of Miss Dawson?"
-"Dear papa!" and a whisper or two, and then HER GRANDFATHER!" answered the old man.
Mr. Hylier came in, just in time to catch his wife, "And had I not believed that I could place de
in another faint, upon his arm. Questions follow-pendence alone upon a character that has been
were turned out of steeped to the lips in the bitter waters of the world's
sobbed and moaned, strife-I ought to be ashamed to own it. Why,

ed; and the two young ladies
the room; while Mrs. Hylier

64

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »