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MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Ill is c d.bui ca its. 
[Written for the Rural New-Yorker.] 
PH A HAPPY, THOUGHTLESS CHILD. 
Wiikn the shadows come anil go, 
Ever n xtless, never still; 
When bright lloivers, to and fro, 
Rock beside the murm’ring rill— 
Tiien my heart is glad and wild, 
I’m a happy, thoughtless child. 
When the sunbeams warm and bright. 
Fall upon the sparkling dew; 
When it glitters in its light, 
A world of diamonds to my view— 
Then my heart is glad and wild, 
I’m a happy, thoughtless child. 
When the stare shine calm and clear, 
Bathing earth in silvery light; 
When the zephyr steals so near, 
Shrouding me with wings so biiglxt—• 
Then my heart leaps not so wild, 
I am not a thoughtless child. 
When the night comes stealing on, 
With its still and solemn pace; 
When the weary grieving one 
Rests so calm in sleep’s embrace— 
Then my heart beats not so wild, 
I’m not a happy, thoughtless child. 
Albion, Feb., 1854. Helen. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
ORNAMENTS. 
“Strange!” “Mysterious!” “Inexplicable!” 
Such have been iny mental ejaculations, when 
my attention has been arrested by the orna¬ 
ments (?) worn by some. I confess my ob- 
tuseness—that I lack the discernment and keen 
sensibility which one class of people appear to 
possess. 
For litis reason, I wish to be enlightened, 
and i have no doubt there are others, (unwil¬ 
ling to expose their ignorance,) desiring simi¬ 
lar knowledge. Is it a mark of intellectuality, 
of refinement, of superior enlightenment, to 
wear a pendant of unmentionable size, length 
and value, pendent from one's ears? Fid not 
God give us ears enough? Can the lines of 
beauty—fashioned by a Divine Artist, made 
proportionate, after a Divine Model—be made 
more symmetrical?-But—to come to the 
point— do thei/prevent the headache? Young 
men and maidens! Y r ou who are ornamented 
(?)—do your heads ache? If not, then pub¬ 
lish it to the world. Let all be benefited by 
this panacea!—away with patent medicines! 
com iue the beautiful (?) and useful! let “ old 
maids ” add to their charms, and “ old bache¬ 
lors ” to their dignity! and cure the headache! 
I confess it is an enigma which 1 cannot un¬ 
ravel, to meet a lady, (or woman, if you please,) 
whose conversation makes her appear accom¬ 
plished, possessed of good sense and noble spirit, 
yet with a pair of these baubles suspended 
from her ears! When I am otherwise attract¬ 
ed, the sight of these is repulsive: for 1 would 
have no woman’s modesty teach her that my 
attention and politeness were lavished upon a 
few dollars’ worth of gold, worn as an orna¬ 
ment, rather than on account of her own per¬ 
sonal attractions — a cultivated mind, pure 
spirit, warm heart, <fcc. 
Now, what can be the object? If it is a 
mark which defines the position of the wearer 
in society, then we must class some of those 
whose attainments would rank them with the 
most intelligent, with those who are crusted 
over with iguoruuce! Then the savage, he 
who disfigures his God-given nature most, 
must rank first—ou par with our belles! 
I have never seen an intelligent, or even a 
common sense man, with his ears lengthened in 
this way. But such as do adopt the improve¬ 
ment (?) are considered by all as representa- 
\ lives of the higher order of—fools. 
Is there an intelligent young lady who, 
(whether she be “ ornamented ” or not,) would 
not pity and spurn the poor fellow, who could 
) plead the “ ornamental ” part of “ his honor,” 
as the most attractive? Then, for Heaven’s 
sake, ladies, do you suppose men so stupid as 
to admire iu you, what makes fools of them? 
I admire taste in dress, and ornaments when 
necessary; but I respectfully submit to the 
good judgment and refined taste of each reader 
of the Rural, if these ear pendants are orna¬ 
ments. — if they are not supremely ridiculous! 
Charlie Chestnut. 
/ 
The Duties of Life. —Some writer enume¬ 
rates the following, among other duties of life: 
“ Every man ought to pay his debts—if he 
can. Every man ought to help his neighbor 
—if he can. Every man and woman ought to 
get married—if they can. Every man should 
do his work to suit his customers—if he can. 
Every man should please his wife—if he can.— 
Every wife should please her husband—if she 
can. Every wife should sometimes hold her 
tongue—if she can. Every lawyer sh ould some- 
times tell the truth—if he can. Every one 
should take a newspaper, and pay for it —if 
he can. 
A riECE of wood burns because it has the 
matter for burning within it. A man comes 
to be famous because he has the matter for 
fame within him. To seek for, or hunt after 
fame, is a vain endeavor. By clever manage¬ 
ment, and various artificial means, a man may 
indeed succeed in creating for himself a sort of 
name. But if he lacks real inward value, all 
his management comes to naught, and will 
scarcely outlive the day. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
PRIDE OF BIRTH. 
“My grandfather was a Revolutionary offi¬ 
cer, and a man of property and high standing 
in society ; and my father has been a member 
of the Legislature,” says a supercilious fop, as 
he erects his shirt collar a quarter of an inch 
or so above the ordinary cut, and throws back 
his head so as to form an acute angle with his 
back. 
“And pray sir, what are you? Have you 
done anything t.o continue the honors afore¬ 
said, iu the descending family line? Was your 
expulsion from the academy on account of 
rowdyism, arc your profanity, intemperance, 
and idleness, the legitimate fruits of your an¬ 
cestors’ exaltation ? Was the money you in¬ 
herited acquired by your pains-taking progen¬ 
itors, for the purpose of being squandered by 
you in riotous living?” 
It is a noticable fact, that the lower and 
lower a man sinks through vice, from his earlier 
estate, the more anxious he appears to bolster 
up his position by the prestige of exalted birth 
and ancestry; and it is quite equally as true, 
“ and pity ’tis, Tis true,” that the higher families 
climb up the ladder of wealth and distinction, 
the more anxious are they to hide their ante¬ 
cedents from the eye of the world. The fash¬ 
ionable Miss Smirk, who parades a thousand 
dollar shawl and diamonds to match, up and 
down Broadway, would blush like fire to hear 
mentioned the honest shoemaker, her grand- 
sire, who years ago worked at an honorable 
trade to gain the nucleus of that fortune, 
which, in real estate rising on the hands of his 
son after the old man was in his grave, has 
made the Smirk family rich and aristocratic.— 
But the wheel is rolling, round and the young 
Smirk’s of the next generation will be landed 
on the same spot where old Smirk the grand¬ 
father began ; with this difference however, 
that without fortune like him, they will in ad¬ 
dition (if negative quantities can be called ad¬ 
dition,) be also without credit, without charac¬ 
ter, without health, without virtue, and without 
friends. 
LIVE WITHIN YOUR MEANS. 
We don’t like stinginess. We don’t like 
“ economy,” when it comes down to rags and 
starvation. We have no sympathy with the 
notion that the poor man should hitch himself 
to a post and stand still, while the rest of the 
world moves forward. It is no man’s duty to 
deny himself every amusement, every luxury, 
every recreation, every comfort, that he may 
get rich. It is no man’s duty to make an ice¬ 
berg of himself-—to shut his eyes and ears to 
the sufferings ol his fellows—aud to deny him¬ 
self the enjoyment that results from generous 
actions—merely that he may hoard wealth for 
his heirs to quarrel about. 
But there is yet an economy, which is everv 
man’s duty, and which is especially commenda¬ 
ble in the man who struggles with poverty—an 
economy which is consistent with happiness, 
aud which must be practised, if the poor man 
would secure independence. 
It is almost every man’s privilege, and it be¬ 
comes his duty, to live within his means; not 
up to, but within them. Wealth does not 
make the man, we admit, and should never be 
taken into the account in our judgment of men. 
But competence should always be secured when 
it con be; and it almost always can be, by the 
practise of economy and self-denial to only a 
tolerable extent. It should be secured, not so 
much for others to look upon, or to raise us in 
the estimation of others, as to secure the con¬ 
sciousness of independence, and the constant 
satisfaction which is derived from its acquire¬ 
ment and possession. 
We would like to impress this single fact 
upon the mind of every laboring man who may 
peruse this short article—that it is possible for 
him to rise above poverty; and that the path 
to independence, though beset with toils and 
self-sacrifices, is much pleasanter to the travel¬ 
er, t’nau any he can enter upon. The man who 
feels that he is earning something more than he 
is spending, will walk the streets with a much 
lighter heart, and enter his home with a much 
more cheerful countenance, than he who spends 
as he goes, or falls gradually behind his neces¬ 
sities in acquiring the means of meeting them. 
Next to the slavery of intemperance, there is no 
slavery on earth more galling than that of pov¬ 
erty and indebtedness. The man who is every¬ 
body’s debtor, is everybody’s slave, and in a 
much worse condition than he who serves a 
single master. 
For the sake of the present, then, as well as 
for the sake of the future, we would most ear¬ 
nestly urge upon every working man, to live 
within his means. Let him lay by something 
every day—if but a penny, be it a penny—it is 
better than nothing; infinitely better than run¬ 
ning in debt a penny a day, or a penny a week. 
If he can earn one dollar, let him try, fairly 
and faithfully, the experiment of living on 
ninety cents. lie will like it 
“ People will laugh.” Let them laugh.— 
“ They will call me stingy.” Better call you 
stingy, than say you do not pay your debts.— 
“ They will wonder why I do not have better 
furniture, live in a finer house, and attend con¬ 
certs aud the play-house.” Let them wonder, 
for a while; it won’t hurt them, and it certainly 
won’t you. By and by, you can have a fine 
house, and fine furniture of your own, and they 
will wonder again, and come billing and cooing 
around you, like so many pleased fools. Try 
the experiment lave within your means. 
Would you be exempt from uneasiness? do 
nothing you know or suspect to be wrong; and 
if you wish to enjoy the purest pleasures, do 
everything in your power, that you are con¬ 
vinced is right 
NEBRASKA. 
The information on Nebraska is meagre at 
the most Altogether the fullest and mo3t ac¬ 
curate account that has met my eye, is that to 
be found in the large volume of Gol. Fremont, 
containing reports of his expeditions to Cali¬ 
fornia and Oregon in 1842-3-4. The volume 
contains in addition to Fremont’s narrative, re¬ 
ports on the botany of the country, by those 
having charge of these departments: also, as¬ 
tronomical observations, &c. “ Horn’s Over¬ 
land Guide ” to California is a thin book, and 
its information is confined to the routes pursued 
by emigrants. Owen’s Geological Survey 
gives information on the Geology of Nebraska, 
and Schoolcraft’s large work on the Indians 
gives quite full statistics on the Indian tribes of 
the Territory. 
Nebraska is so named from one of its largest 
rivers, the Nebraska, or Platte. According to 
the returns of the last census, it contains 136,- 
700 square miles, or territory as large as New 
England, New York, and South Carolina. It 
should be stated, however, taking the Southern 
line at 37 °, as Mr Douglas proposes, the 
Territory as thus organized will be much larger 
than the portion that has usualiy been designa¬ 
ted as Nebraska, embracing a large portion of 
Indian territory, and most of the Indian tribes, 
except the Choctaw’s, the Creeks, the Chicka- 
saws, the Seminoles, and a portion of the 
Cherokees. 
Nebraska, as proposed to be organized, will 
be a vast region, having the various climates 
that are enjoyed in Missouri, Iowa and Minne¬ 
sota, that lie on itseastern border; only the cli¬ 
mate, like the face of the country, is more 
Asiatic. The eastern portion of it is chiefly 
prairie and rich alluvial. The middle is more 
sandy and barren, containing the great Ameri¬ 
can Desert; and the western is mountainous, the 
highest mountains being covered with almost 
perpetual snow. 
The inhabitants of Nebraska may be 75,000, 
mostly Indians. The whites are military men, 
Indian agents, and missionaries. Within a 
week, paragraphs have appeared iu the papers, 
announcing that a newspaper is about to be 
published at old Fort Kearney, called the Ne¬ 
braska Democrat, and that a Post Office is to 
be established some forty miles from it, for the 
accommodation of emigrants—two important 
elements to begin the work of civilizing the 
territory. 
Nebraska is and must ever be maiuly an ag¬ 
ricultural region. It is far from the oceans, 
and has no great lakes. The Platte river, 
though from one to three miles wide, is only 
navigable for steamboats forty miles. 
From what even the Indians have accom¬ 
plished in agriculture, the country seems to hold 
j out great hopes to the farmer. The Indians 
I there are mostly supported by agriculture, and 
according to returns before me, four tribes of 
’Christian Indians on the Northern and South- 
j ern banks of the Kansas, cultivate four thou- 
‘ sand acres. From these they raised, in a late 
; year, 80,000 bushels of corn, 2690 bushels of 
; wheat, and 12,000 of oats, 4000 hogs, and 200,- 
I 000 melons of different kinds. They kept 660 
j working oxen, aud a large number of horses.— 
I The annual value of their products is put down 
! at $31,000. The number of these Indians is 
| placed at 1702. 
The territory is not w r ell wooded. Poplai’, 
j elm, birch, willow, pines, white oak, maple and 
; other trees, are found here in moderate num- 
j bers. The cotton w’ood tree much abounds on 
i the rivers. Wild animals, such as buffaloes, 
deer, elk, antelopes, abound in this country. 
The territory is capable of supporting a large 
population. The people are impatient to have 
I an organized Territory, that they may make 
j State after State of it. No wonder that the 
! question, if that, is indeed the question, whether 
! these shall be free or slave States, should great- 
1 ly excite the various sections of our land.— 
Cor. JY. Y. Eve. Post. 
There is an Eastern tale of a magician who 
discovered by his incantations that the Philos¬ 
opher’s stone lay on the bank of a certain river, 
but was unable to determine its locality more 
definitely. He therefore proceeded along the 
bank with a piece of iron, to which he applied 
successively all the pebbles he found. As one 
after another they produced no change in the 
metal, he flung them into the stream. At last 
he hit upon the object of his search, and the 
iron became gold in his hand. But alas ! he 
had become so accustomed to the “touch and 
go” movement, that the real stone was involun¬ 
tarily thrown into the river after the others, and 
lost to him forever. I think this story well al¬ 
legorizes the fate of the coquette. She has 
tried and discarded so many hearts, that at 
length she throws away the right one, from pure 
force of habit 
Monkey Skin Gloves. —Of the many ani¬ 
mals who contribute to a dandy’s dress, (in the 
materials of which the several portions are 
made,) we find that he is indebted to the mon¬ 
key for the politest portion, the “ French kid 
glove.” The manufacture of this article de¬ 
pends now on the monkey skins brought from 
South America, which are as much more plia¬ 
ble than the old material as the monkey is 
more agile than the kid. As it is impolite to 
offer an ungloved hand to a lady, it appears, 
therefore, that she is more honored with the 
touch of a monkey’s skin than a man’s. We 
see by the paper that there is one hunter who 
kills three thousand monkeys a year, selling 
their skins to the French dealers for from twen¬ 
ty to forty cts. each .—Home Journal. 
Passion. —Nothing doth so fool a man as 
extreme passion. This doth make them fools 
which otherwise are not, and show them to be 
fools which are so. 
Individual greatness (the foundation of na¬ 
tional greatness) is the result of fiery trial, con¬ 
tinual struggle, unceasing self-sacrifice, unre¬ 
mitting discipline. 
To find out an error is easy; to discover the 
truth is difficult Error is on the surface, but 
truth dwells at the bottom of the well. 
Jfar % Jafrb. 
THIS LITTLE TRESS OF HAIR, 
This little tress of hair, oh 1 who can tell 
The wild emotions that my bosom swell, 
When to my throbbing breast, with painful joy, 
I clasp this relic of my darling boy. 
Long, long my absent one has sweetly slept 
In his low couch. The rose and violet 
Have many summers bloomed above his head, 
And the lone weeping-willow long has shed 
Its nightly tears; so like a mother’s grief 
Who weeps in solitude, and shuns relief. 
The bright calm moon its holy light has shed 
Full oft upon his grave; the breeze with fairy tread 
Sweet music oft hath made, as tho’ ’twere joy 
To lull the slumbers of my baby boy. 
This little lock of hair! it opes the tomb. 
And calls my loved one forth. Again the bloom 
Is on his cheek—I hear his laugh, 
His patting footstep and his questions grave ; 
I see the bright blue eye, the radiant face, 
The silken hair, and feel his warm embrace. 
He lives! I clasp again my precious boy : 
Again his smile I see, and all his childish joy. 
But cruel mem’ry breaks the enchanting spell, 
So pale and cold he lies. The tolling bell, 
The pall, the hearse, the slow and measured tread. 
The last long lingering look into his lowly bed. 
The pang my bleeding, stricken heart oppressed, 
When the cold clod fell on his gentle breast, 
Withering my inmost soul, and with dread weight, 
Flashing the fearful whole that I am desolate. 
Peace, peace, my soul, my throbbing heart be still, 
And calmly sink into thy Maker’s will. 
Drink, drink the cup, and bitter though it be. 
Thy Saviour holds it, He will strengthen thee. 
This little lock of hair! It seems to say— 
Mother, look up, and in eternal day, 
See thy sweet bud of promise blooming there, 
Thy cherished one. A crown of glory fair 
Adorns his brow, and in his tiny hand 
A golden harp. See 1 with the cherub band 
He bows before the throne. Hark, how he sings 
Raptured hosannas to the King of Kings; 
And now his harp notes swell so sweet and clear, 
“ Mourn not, dear mother, strive to meet me here.” 
Bright little tress of hair! I’ll treasure thee, 
For oft thy silent voice small comfort me. 
Rest on my heart, till my dear boy I see. 
When mortals shall he clothed with immortality. 
[Plymouth Advertiser. 
[ For the Rural New-Yorker.] 
LETTER FROM A FARMER’S WIFE: 
ABOUT WIVES WITH SEPARATE INTERESTS FROM 
THEIR HUSBANDS. 
My Dear Rural: — I have often been 
puzzled to understand why some of the really 
intelligent ladies of my acquaintance should 
seem to have an interest separate from that 
of their husbands. One would think to hear 
them talk, that they almost hated their “ liege 
lords,” and studied constantly to overreach 
them, or to get money so as to gratify their 
love of display. I will explain what I mean 
by giving instances. 
Not many weeks ago, I heard a lady boast¬ 
ing to an acquaintance how she managed to 
get some silver spoons. She said: “Lawyer 
B. and his wife were here to dinner, and I had 
been teasing Mix to get some spoons before 
they came, but he said, ‘ we could not afford 
it,’ and so on, just as men always do. But I 
was determined to have the spoons, so when 
M. handed the soup, I observed: -I am sorry 
we have no silver spoons to offer you, but Mr. 
Mix thinks we cannot afford it.’ M. turned 
red and looked very angry, but did not say a 
word till they were gone, — then, throwing- 
twenty dollars upon the table, he said—■ Here 
is all the money I have got, Jane, but take it 
and get some spoons, and tell Mr. Newton that 
I will hand him the rest soon. I would rather 
work night and day to earn the money, than 
have this scene repeated.’ I felt almost sorry 
I had spoken so. I know it was ’most too bad, 
but I have got the spoons now, and I don’t 
care.” Since then, I heard her remark, “I 
want a new set of chairs for my parlor; those 
we have look old-fashioned, and I shall give 
Mix no rest till he gets them.” I could not help 
thinking what a happy fireside Mr. M. must 
have to come home to after his weary day’s 
toil; aud yet, Mrs. M. would be shocked sho’d 
any one tell her she was wanting in a proper 
regard for her husband. 
A farmer’s pretty little wife said to me re¬ 
cently, “ All the money I get for eggs, and but¬ 
ter, aud chickens, is mine, and I do not take it 
to buy groceries with, either, as Mrs. Maxox 
does. I think that belongs to the men.” 
But this does uot sound quite so absurd as 
Mrs. Few’s talk. It so happened that she had 
before her marriage, considerable property of 
her own, which was used iu purchasing land, so 
therefore she calls it all hers. She says—when 
Mr. Few is present too — “ O dear! it is hard 
times. I don’t know what I shall do, but I am 
goiug to have some of these horses and cows 
sold, for I do not intend to buy hay this win¬ 
ter.” Turning to her husband, she adds, “I 
tell you what, Mr. Few, I am going to have a 
well dug uext summer, and it is a good day to 
draw stone, so you may as well go to work at 
it and get them ou the spot” Mr. Few walks 
quietly out of the house with his head hanging 
down, as if he wished his wife did not know so 
much. • 
I know more than one man, who, report 
says, will not buy or sell even a sheep or a pig 
without his wife’s consent Now I should be 
ashamed to have people think my husband did 
not know enough to manage his own business, 
or that I could not find profitable employment 
without being troubled with all the minutiae 
of my husband’s farming concerns. 
Equally vulgar, and still more distressing to 
witness, is a scene like the following. Mr. 
Perkins is putting on his overcoat,—Mrs. Per¬ 
kins, bustling about the house, observes the 
movement, and asks in a loud tone, 
“Where are you going?” 
“To the village,” answers Mr. P. surlily. 
“ Well, I want you to get some tea, and four 
yards of the brown and white gingham, I saw 
at Mr. Pratt’s store.” 
“ Yes, I presume you do; I never went to a 
store, and you knew it, but you wanted some¬ 
thing. It is nothing but get, get, get, and I 
am tired of it.” 
“There, Mr. Perkins, now that sounds pret¬ 
ty. Yesterday I was at Mr. Snow’s, when he 
was getting ready to go away, and he stepped 
up to his wife and said, ‘ Is there anything you 
wish me to get to-day, Emily?’ Now, I sho’d 
think the world was coming to an end, if you 
should ask me such a question.” 
“No danger of my asking you. You never 
give me a chance,” added Mr. P., hastily bang¬ 
ing the door after him, for fear rearing a 
reply. For myself I felt as if I would like to 
creep out of some back-door. They had un¬ 
doubtedly forgotten my presence. 
But it is time my gossiping was brought to a 
close. Should any of my neighbors recognize 
their own peculiarities, they will please pardon 
the liberty, aud endeavor to profit by the pic¬ 
ture. A. N. E. 
LIKE THE ANGELS. 
“ Why! you would have me like the angels;” 
exclaimed a young girl with whom a friend had 
been talking. 
Truly we would have woman like the angels. 
And why not? Is it any harm to be like an 
angel? We read that they are very beautiful 
—full of love, truth, purity, compassionate, 
sinless. Are these forbidding traits? Angels 
slander not each other. They have no circles 
in their glorious home where characters aie 
picked to pieces. Angels never wreath the 
face with smiles when envy is gnawing the verv 
heart-strings in twain. Angels never rejoice 
over the downfall of another. Angels lure not 
with the eye, aud then coldly cast oft' with the 
lip. Angels suffer not passion to paint the 
brow dark with discontent and hatred. 
Would you not wish, eventually, to become 
angel ? Or does this thought never enter with 
the multitude that cross the mind’s threshold? 
Why not prepare, then, for this high destina¬ 
tion? Why not discipline the sublime tho’ts, 
and beautiful in good deeds? Cultivate your 
affections, be pure in thought, gentle in spirit. 
Banish forever deception, evil speaking, inordi¬ 
nate love of pleasures! Why not become, as 
near as may be, angels on earth? Ah! young 
ladies, believe us when we tell you there* is no 
harm in striving to be like the angels. 
Little Thorns. — The sweetest, the most 
clinging affection is often shaken by the slight¬ 
est breath of unkindness, as the delicate ten¬ 
drils of the vine were agitated by the faintest 
air that blows in summer. An unkind word 
from one beloved, often draws the blood from 
many a heart which would defy the battle axe 
of hatred, or the keenest edge of vindictive sa¬ 
tire. Nay, the shade, the gloom of the face, 
familiar and dear, awakens grief and pain.— 
These are the little thorns which, though men 
of rougher form make their way through them 
without feeling much, extremely incommode 
persons of a more refined turn, in their journey 
through life, and make their traveling irksome 
and unpleasant. 
toiettL--(Sratre anfr (Sag. 
A Good Test. —The pursuit in which we 
cannot ask God's protection must be criminal; 
the pleasure for which we dare not thank him 
cannot be innocent 
The Christian.— Though a great man may, 
by a rare possibility, be an infidel, yet an intel¬ 
lect of the highest order must build upon 
Christianity. 
A visitor at Niagara Falls was asked, if he 
knew what the little steamer that goes under 
the falls was made of? “Of wood and iron, I 
suppose,” was the reply. 
“No sir,” said the interrogator, very coolly, 
“ she is the - Maid of Misti’ ” 
An Australian, from the number of murders 
committed in that auriferous region, thinks 
Melbourne is the place Shakspeare speaks of 
when he says, “ that bourne from which no 
traveler returns.” 
A lawyer on his death-bod, willed his 
whole property to the lunatic asylum, saying 
that he desired it to go to the same class of per¬ 
sons he took it from. 
Miss Susan Nipper says that the Russians 
have an awful responsibility resting on them 
for killing Turks, for every Turk who is killed 
leaves a dozen wives. 
It is common to speak of those whom a flirt 
has jilted as her victims. This is a grave 
error; her real victim is the man whom she 
accepts. 
Temperance, indeed, is a bridle of gold; and 
he who uses it rightly, is more like a god than 
a man.— Burton. 
God. —Faith beholds God; devotion cleaves 
to him; love enjoys him; obedience serves him. 
The way to obtain a good reputation is to 
be what you appear to be. 
