I:
l
i
:31’: law,
,§_)ublic.
that being: satisfied from lll
' , EM_PTY oil casks for-sale by _
- ' 4 ' W. C. S'l‘RE'E'I‘., ,
PUBLISHED EVERY MORNIIVG BY JAMES
.H, "H(l)lY[_1‘I----ESTABLISHAEDC‘ IN isms. i
1.; Gil. iiuinily Ncmspupct---Ecnottb la £iti1"atur’c, Qficncral Entclligzittc, lllolitioa, tllgii-inullutc‘;’ 2\'rI5— anb maiiufucturzs. ‘
. . .. . - V _ _ __ , . ._ I .“ 0,. by -
NUMBER 122--Niiiv SERIES.
-..'1
NQRWALK, -ctr. TUESDAY, APRIL so,lfis5o.
..
ifcI.tME. iooiilii.--ixiMBER»l1s,
*1!
_,.--Terms of the Gazette.
I ,"V'illl'rige subscribers by carrier—p'er year $2 00
‘im-ii ‘
~ ‘Ghee Sl1l)SCl'll)8l‘S, or those living out of
do. in advanc do. do.;’. 00
the C.u'rier’s district, and who call for
‘their papers at the ollice,
Companies-of five or more receiving their
gf3=ll'?m*l‘S by mall, if paid in iidvance . 1 50
1. 50
Wm. ‘ER7.ll1‘v32irrzin:l.oi*e,
Cor-.=zci' of Slate CI/ibll Ilfain. Streets,
BRKDGEPORT, CONN.
George A. mawczaport, .
..llll.:)ra3y zitti. oiaiscllci‘ at iv.
Oflicc II/Ins.’ Side t/zcl Bmllgc, ll
NORWALK, CONN.
_1j,m.1st, 1850. - ' 3
r ':;'.:r..us £39 Ems-.im*.»a:-tests,
l\‘[A‘.\'UFA‘C'l'LlRl‘Illf‘i-AND DICAILISIIS IN
Scots, Shoes, l.i€.‘&‘1i.ll'l32', and Fiiiiliiigs
33.3 lmiein-Street,
NOR \VA. Lli. ctr.
., ‘ I-1,~irtl-‘oral (.‘.mim’:y
NI[fi;g_I,§d {iii-,~ liisiirance lloinpiuiy.
GEORGE ST. JOHN, Agent.
AS a pledged L’lDlfill of about. $800,000.
H A cash surplu ‘~ 0fmOi'0tl1=m $3.000--—
,:-3.llSlll't1l1(:e on $100 aboL‘t7 Cents per year.
March 12. l-lllll
‘I W [-1 ll} suliscril)ei'shaving formed a connection
' in bu.-'inest-', as couusel.'Ql'S and :Ill0!'IH‘-3'8
offer their pi'ofessioii:.’ services to the
CLAl’tl\' BISSIL LL. ‘
Gl£Ol’.(}—l§ A. .l3lbSEl.-L-
Norwalk. May ‘26. 1339' O 539
E3‘. 6. "e‘i.?'&"§’X2i.l3El.§“-3
4 v v - I v 1 E’ u
‘Sabina; I=..laltei' 8. Iliiileimitet.
_ Two Dg0,‘s‘ East of His Brut/.'.,
s'r.i:ii..“1’~1,‘, CONN-
-vOULD ,.,,S,,e(.[f,_ lly inform the inhabit-
W ants of'tl'iis, and ‘he adjoining toxvus,
Le urgent in-,cessiIy
-l in_ cases l\'ll";‘li
diseases, and
lug: in warm
which has fieqiieiitlv existie
death has been caused by putri.'
in almost all cases ofdeatli occur: _
we.il:l1e+', that more ample provision in the lino
of articles iiecessary for the llliel'lllel'J.L"l‘*':‘l Ill“
(leadtlian has lieretofore been made in tL‘|S 890
tion of the country, is called for, he has lJt"«ll
induced to make the llt5CeSS:ll'}’ ai'i'aii;_;eiiie.‘l'-$
for, and that. he is now prepared to furnish C01
fins, Shrouds, Caps, S.:ai_'ls, ofevcry dos-
cription that may be desired or that can be Oll-
tained in the :il‘_v of New York. at, a inoineuls
warning. day or night, and on the most. reason-
able terius. He, is also pi'np:irt-.d ‘to furni.~sli
ll_earses, Cai'i'iages. see to the diggiiig of the
grave, and to attend to any other a l'l'2ll1:1(5lllf_‘lll’S
that any be wislieil for the l’auei'a-l procession,
65¢. 'I‘liose who may wish to keep the body of
a. deceased friend SoVel',ill days, can be furiiislied
with an ice-box in which it may be preserved a
week,-or longer if necessary.
The snbscrilier has also on hand and for sale
Le:.loyeii’s disinfecliing l7luid—-—au arlicle which
will effectually reinovt‘ from the sick room. oi
from i'ooms.-where death has occurred,all offen
sive smell. and completely freslien and purily
the air. This fluid is far superiorto chloride of
lime or soda, it being much more ifoweiful and
entirely free from smell. wlii 3h makes it doubly
valuable. E. CH;-\UNClCY \VAR.REN.
Sttaiuford._ Feb. 19th. 1848. 7l.f
Cabinet E'l1I'1li‘lZ‘U.I‘8, Chairs,
Looking Glasses, l"V2'llow l'l7(1.)'L’, cf-r.., .S~r.
T HE sul)scribei's have on hand at the wares
room formerly occupied by “\":lf6l‘l)l_ll‘y 5:
Quintard at the loot of Mill I--lill,~and alsoal
the old establislied wi‘ire-room of E. Quinta rd
in Main st. :1 _,qciieral flSS({_l‘llll(’lll of Cabinet
Furniture, Cliairs, Looking Glasses, ‘\Villow
\V;u-,3, &c., ctiiisistiiig in part of I’
)Ul'CilUS of all
descriptions; iualiogany, black walnut, cliorry
and pine tables; black walnut and maple cot-
tage and french l)erlst.<-ails ; common bedsteiirls;
book tables; wash stiintls: candle staiids; lillli
walnut, maple, col.t.a_r_re, win<.lsor and kitcht-n
chaiis: cliiiilreii’s table and low Cllilll'S.——-
LOOKING GLASSES of all kinds and pri-
ces. \Vi'_llow waggons, crailles and cliairs.———
Looking glass plates fitted to old frames, and
fiaines of all sizes for old plates. Our advan-
tiiges in purchasing looking-glasses enable us to
offer them cheaper than they have ever lwfore
been sold in this place or vicinity. (IOFFINS
furnished and funerals attended at the Sll0l'ESl
notice. \Ve shall in a few days be prepared
to fuinisli 'I'(.’(,l(l_?/-IIIQCZC Cqflins of all descriptions
and finished in the l)(’-Sf manner.
« E. QUlN"l‘ARD 6.‘, SONS.
Norwalk, June 11,1849. - "4
Ready-Made Coflins.
HE subsciibcrs are now_ prepared ‘to fur-
-nish ready-made coffins of niahogany,
black walnut, cherry, and white wood of all
siZes,and finished equal to any.
NV-here v. e furnish coflins we make no charge
for attending funeralsju any part of Norwalk
or adjoining towns.
A good hearse will be ready at any hourlo
attend funerals from the cars or steamboat.
A general assortment of Cabinet furniture.
chairs. looking glasses, willow ware, &'.c. ' c.oii-
stantly on hand. Orders left at either of our
ware rooms will be proaiply atteuded_to.
' E. QUIN’_l‘A RD & SONS.
Norzvallt, A.u‘gust13th, 1849. 33
Boots, shoes a_n~d Rubbers.
OULD icspeclfully invile ihe"citi'/.ens
. _ of Norwalk and vicinity to visit. their
estziblisliineiit which will ‘at all times be fm--
nished with every description of goods for
ladies’ and gentle'men's wear, l1._'(I at prices that
cannot fail to suit the purchaser The sub-
Iicribers are, also manufacturing ,;,_l kinds of
la<ll.8s'._ gent|eine._u’s and cliildri-.n'5 ‘W i-ii, All
work ‘warrantedio give the best satisfai. ion or
the money in all cases will be readily rem "ned.
R_.epairing done in the best manner. ']\he‘ eu-
tleineifs branch will be conducted by hm
Chu’s‘F'ie|d, (late of Broarlway. N. Y.)
CHARLES i«‘iEL‘D.
.. . LEGRAND HENDRICKS.
, l\_lorwalk, Dec. 3, 1849. ' 49
Oil ‘Cask-:-'.._
9”‘
A§llEhfil.-All éfiilldli
Hats. Gaps, Furs. &c.
E.-f%ne\x' Hat and Cup store, at No. 13 Mlain
si_i'ee.f., \vlie.re we will keep constantly on hand
a splendid assortment. of Hats and Caps ef
every variety, from the lowest. in price to the
bust in point of service. ,
‘ Tho people of I‘lorwalli and its vicinity are
respr-crl'ully invited to call and exainine his
stock of Caps, of whicli he is mceiving weekjy
supplics from New York. of every style he
pledges liimseif lo sell i,lie.C.‘aps below all com.
yiclilion as has oflaie been proved beyond ques-
tion. I-lats of all desctlption irizioe to order at.
the .slioi-rt-sf. notice, varying in price from '75
cmiis to $34,017. He would say to one and all
ivishing to purclia';eanylliiiig in the Hat. Cap
or For line, to give him a (fall. as with his ex-
'ton.-zive assorTinent ho cannot fail to please both
in price and style. ‘
February 12
Notice.
I-IE subscribi=.r would respectfully call the
t.rei1l;ion of the public to the largest assort-
iueni: of Hariiess lobe found in any similar es
fitl)llSllll1Plll2'ln this county, wh'ch he has on
hand, and offers for sale atthe very lowest pri-
ces. It‘ is bi-lieved that no similar establish
ment can lurnisli it better or cheaper article
in his line of biisiiies.s. He has alsoavery
l,lll‘,<_{C’. lot of C:ii'i'i;xge \Vhips, which he offers
at factoi'y prices. It is his intention to sell any
and every article.in his line as low asany other
csiablisliment in the counlry. He has on hand
a large f1SSOl'llll(-‘III of Saddlery ware,and con-
tinues" to manufacture all kinds of Goods in his
'line'on.the most l‘elJS0lltil)l(-. terms.
\VM. B._ Sl-VAN.
Pir()l'\$’lllk. Feb 12
Cheap, Ready Pay,
AND
(Brie Price Store.
The Sui)S\Cl'll_'-f‘.l‘., graieliil for the patronage
lie.i'ei’ofoi*e i'cceiveil from his numerous friends
and acquainlances iluri'ii_<..z the past 25 years,
would say to {hem and the public gzeuerally.
lliat. he is now eiigiigetl in business on his own
7l!:.i;0Lil)l,\f1l‘.il on the clzctqn, reacl._i,/ pay, and one
price .S_7,/.S'f(’7l’I. ,
li will be obvious to all reflectiiig minds. that,
to conduct the mercantile btisiness on the one
price sg/sIi7_ni., and that 2-. very low price, it. must
be done for ready pay.
Additions will constantly be made of season-
able goods. to his already large stock comprising
an unusual vaiieiy. ‘
The sul.is.criber flutters liimselftliat from his
means and long cxperioiice, together with the
help ofpolitc anil attentive clerks be will offer
great inducements to all who may want good
andclieap goods. '
' SlCYMOU.R COMSTOCK.
' .John A. Weed-.
New Canaan, Jan. 31, 1850. 6
.-‘be fierdial Balm of Gt-ilead,
miiictly for menial and bodily rlobility.
& ,,,_rvoi:is (llSOl'(lPl'S. &c. is universally ac-
i,,,,,.wi,.,-igtwl to be peculiarly €‘.lllC:i(.‘lOUS,ll‘ all
',,,,-,.-,,,-(1 w,,5,,_‘vigs, loss of appetite, iiidigestioii.
pupressioii of spirits lrcmbliiig or shaking of
the li,iiid_,- or limb, _Sll0l'l'l]0SS of breath, consump-
[iVe,l];il)j|§:_ Ifmigeb the most violent pains in
the llP.z'l(l and sioiuacll, illld l3l'°“l°le5 lll‘-l'$llll'll“
lion. ‘l<‘o.i sale by lV- E; Bl-5SELL-
Elacksmitiaing.
IVILLLI.-‘kill ll. LA'l\.'f'l3
_ \Voi.ilrl inform his frir-ntl.-I and the
_, rptiblic that he has made "arrange-
~ -fifiifliiieiiis for conducting the above
biisiness in all its various branclies, at the old
stand on Main street. where he will be found
readv to do all kinds of work usually done in a.
couniry shop; never tires in ironing wagons.‘
sloiglis, and such work as his customers wish
done. lly paying strict aticiiiioii to his busi-
ness. and endeavoriug to give perfect satisl'ac-
lion, lie hopes to so weld the iuleresl. the inter-
est of the public with his sledge that no flaw
will prevent him from receiving a share of
palroniige.
N. l’.. Horse-slioein.g done in the most up-
|)l‘0‘v'P(l m:iiiii(=r.- .
Norwalk, Jan. l, 1850.
1*‘-Eerwalk Savings Bank.
NO'l‘lCl1l is lion-by given that deposits_ will
be receivctl by the treasurer at the Fair-
lield County lauk. from 10 lo 12 o'clock, A.
M. and from ‘.2 to 4 o‘clock, I’. M. on‘1\Ionday.s.,
Tuesdays, \Vciliie-siliiys, 'l.‘liursdays and Fri-
days, and on Siiluidays from 10 to 1213.. M.
and 2 to 3 P. M . until furtlier -notice. Per-
sons wishiiig lo make loans are requested to
hand a writieii application -to the treasurer,
stating amount and sci-iirity.
'1‘. \VARi’li3 R, .Il’l.., Treasurer’.
I‘l'oi'wall<, Dec. 3, 18-39.
_
NCTECE»
Tl: A. El.\IlTlI, now Principal of
. Golden Hill Seminary (l}riilgepoi't),
having taken the liouse in this place. formerly_
occupied by Eliplialet Lockwood, deceased,
will rciuove here, and be in rvatliness to re-
ceive her pupils at tliolusual tlme-——lhe first
\Vednesda_',' in May.
Circulars containing Terms for Boarding
scholars may be found at the Post Office. A
limited nuinbér of Day Scholars will be re-
ceiveil. ’
'I‘i-zimis.-—-Priiuary Englisli Stiiclies, 5.358;
liiglier |iranclios.$l() per session(offive months).
Exlia chargesthe same as for boarding pupils.
, To Elind--1°IIal:ers. .
Doz. \Vi'ouglit [ron Blind Fast-
- nings; ‘.200 doz. Blind Butts-; also
Blind Staples, Paris, emerald. inarine, verdi-
gris, chrome and Euglisli Greens, Oils, Var-
nish, &c.. for sale by
_ - '\VM. C STREET.
_March 26th, 1850.
. TGYS
OR Christmas and New Years presents.
Brotlier .lonatl'iau’s Pictorial N. Y. daily
and weekly papers. Police Gazer. e,'Ned Bunt-
line’.-. Own. Uncle Sam, Empire City, etc. can
be obtained at. the my shop of V '
GEORGE W. JENNINGS.
Norwalk, Dec. 17th, 1849. -_
9 FRESH SUP.P_I.Y of RUSHTON,
CLARK 65 CO’S GENUINE COD-
LIVER ()lL.just received and~for sale by,
I ‘HE Subscriber will continue the business
of 'l‘annlng and Currying. under the mime
;,',,‘d firm of S. Ayres 66 Co.
'lides and Bark wanted.
I). AYRES.
N ‘ew Canaan, i\*f{1l‘Ci1 16th, 1850. '"
V...-..-V
r,»'.-?."'.Il. C. RANl’)LE has recently opened a -
POETRY.
THE VILLAGE lf3LACKSMI'1‘H.
BY m~:ury W. tf.o'ii‘GrEI.Lowa
Under a spreading chesnut tree
The village smiihy stands;
Tllfl’Slnll2ll, a mighty man was be,
With large riid sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arihs
Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black and long.
His face is like the too;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
‘He earns whate’er he can,
And leeks the whole world in the fog‘,
For he owes not any man.
‘Week in, week out, from morn till night,
_ You can hear his bellow; blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge.
VViih ineasured beat. and -slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell.
‘When the evening sun is low.
And children cominghome from school
Look in at the open door;
Tliey love to see the flaming forgo,
And hear the bellows roar, ‘
And catch the burning sparks that fly,
Like chaff from fl threshing floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church.
And sits among his boys; .
He hoarslhe pui-son pray and preach.
Ho hen rs *his daugtei-’s voice,
‘Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Siiigiiig in Parzikisel
He needs must think ofher once more,
How in the grave she lies,
And with hi>i.haI'd rough hand no wipes
A tear out of his eyes. "
Toiling,—rejoicing.——sorrowirig,
Onward thro, life he goes;
Each morn sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it clofe:
Something atiemted. sonielhing done,
Ilas earnedu night’s repose. -
Thanks, lliunks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou has taught!
Thus at the flaming forge oflife ,
Our for1une‘s must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning doed oud thought‘
' llIISCELLAl\lY.
Cliarlcs Elliston.
A CAPITAL STORY.
"I must leave this place. tonight. I can
bear their marked necggieci and open taunts
no _lougcr,” said ,_CIllll‘ll’S Elliston; and he
l(‘lI the richly furnished parlor, where, with
some fashionable guests, sat Mrs Merton
and her two eldest daughters, and Went into
[he garden, “ Yes, I must go," he contin-
uc-cl, ‘E no one cares for me ; and why should
they care for the penniless being whose very
origin is unknown? Alas, how hard it is
to be thus cast upon the world friendless,
and beloved by none—none--none l ” '
l And be buried his face in his hands, over-
come with the intensity of his feelings.
i‘ None, Charles?” said 11 clear, silvery
voice behind him, while. a hand was gently
laid upon his slioulder. He started, and,
turning round, said : ‘-
“ Yes, yes, Helen, pardon me; I spoke
untbinkingly. You still love me ? ” he
added, inquiringly.
“I (lo, Charles, and my father—”
“ Yes, your father, my noble benefactor,
Helen. He still loves me.”
“Then, why leave us, Charles?” she
said, in a tender lone.
4‘ Because, Helen, you know I have al-
ready been ihé cause of much dissension in
your family——He-aven forbid that 1 should
he so any longer. And besides, Helen, you
know what treatment I have received from
your mother and sisters. I I_ have borne it
long, out of respect to your father, and love
for you, but I can bear it no more. I will
go forth into the world, in hopes of building
u a Ririunc; and say, Helen, if] should
be successful and retain, will you-— ”
“ I will love you still,” she said, interrupt-
ing him. “On, I -will always love you,
Charles l”
“ Farewell l ” said be.
And, imprinting a kiss upon her rosy lips,
he tore himself away. In-another hour, he
had quilted the house where he had spent
so many happy days with Helen. .
Charles Ellistoo was is dependant upon
the bounty of Mr. Merton. He had found
him one day, when about four years old,
wandering about the streets of the city, a
lost child. He kindly took him home, and
used every endeavor to discover his parents,
but all to no purpose. At last, finding his
inquiries useless, he reared and educated
him as his own.
Unlike her husband, Mrs. Merton was of
a proud, aristocratic spirit, who could not
bear one whose birth was so uncertain as
that of young Elliston. She had diffused
‘sonic of this spirit into her eldest daughters;
but Helen, the youngest, like her father, pos-
sessed a kind and noble heart, and looked
only with,_cornpassion and love upon the
poor, though noble youth. _
He was now about seventeen years of
age, and the insults that were heaped upon
him were felt. severely. It is true, when
Mr‘. Merton was present, none date show the
least disrespect toward him, but this only
served to make him feel if more acutely in
his absence. -
It was on this very mentioned _ evening,
that a new insult had been .ofl‘ured to him,
and be determined not to‘ live‘ ‘another day
where he was exposed toihem. N01-would
it have "caused him one feeling of regret,
bad it not been for Mr._,Merton and Helen ;
- but, lioivever dear they were to him, be re-
solved to leavéTtl'i_em.- , He left, too, without
informing Mr. Merton, for be well knew
that he would insist upon his staying, and
he would not be the author of discord in
earth he could call his friends. .
‘ It was near the close of.-a summer’s day,
that a steamboat touched a wharf in one of
our southern cities, and, from its crowded
-decks, poured it strleain of‘.p.1ss_engers, eager
once more to set-foot upon the land. Among
the last who stepped on shore was a tall
youth, with a valise in his band, who walked
slowly from the landing, and bent his..;,yg§y
toward the‘ shipping warehouses ,along the"
wharves. But, alas, he was a stranger, and
had no recomendations! = 1
‘With a dejected mien, and a sorrowful.
step, he was about giving up all hope,: when
he came to a large warehouse be had’ not
before entered. He walked into the count-
ing-house, where sat a gentleman, apparent-
ly about forty years of age. .To the youih’s
enquiry whether he was at the head of the
esiablishinent, he replied in the affirmative.‘
“ What do you wish, my lad? ” be in-
quired. ’ ‘
“Do you wanta lad to assist in your
store? I have no reco'miuen(lations to offer
you, sir,”.he coniiniied‘, modestly. “ I have
just arrived in the sfcaniboat from the north,
and have neither money nor friends. I can-
not even buy a lodging for the night.”
And, seeing the merchant look incredu-
lous-ly at him, he could contain himself no
longer, but said, imploringly: \
“ Oh, sir, do. not refuse,” and the tears
trickled down his cheeks.
g ‘The merchant, touched by his grief, and
cdnvinced by the openness of his manner,
hesitated a moment, and finally took him to
his house. A few days proved the truth;_of
the youth’s story, and he was employed at
once by his new benefactor.-
In the course of time he rose by degrees
until he became head clerk in the. establish-
ment of Mr. Thompson. He also, by his
atniableneas, became the favorite of the
wt-.ziliby family -of his employer, with whom
he resided. All loved him, and he loved
them in return as father, mother, and sister.
For, although C'narl'es (for it was Ch‘-irles
Eliistoiz) thought that Emma Thompson
was almost as beautiful as, his own Helen,
yet he still remained faithful to the latter,
and could but think of the former as a sister.
‘Five years rolled by, and he had now be-
come proprietor of the large establishment
whicli he had entered as an errand boy, Mr.
Thompson having retired from business.
’Om-. evening he was sitting in familiar
conversation with the family, when Mrs-
TllOm_pS0l-1, after looking steadfastly at
Charles for some time, remarked how
m:zc'n‘Emma and lie resembled each other. -
“Yes,” said her husband, “I have often
obsci'\'cd ii.; they look as much alike as
lbough they were really brother and sister.
Our Charles-—poor little ft-llow—could not
have been more like Emnia.” ' .
" Your Charles? I never knew you had
any other child besides Emma l " said
Charles—‘‘ when did he die '2"
“ Would to God he had died l ” exclaimed
Mrs. Thompson. “ Then would 1 have
known he was in Heaven; but now, per-
haps, he is buffeted about by slraiigers,
whose hard hearts can seldom feel like pa-
rents.” « '
‘- He was lost, then ‘i ” asked Charles.
“ Yes,” said Mr. Thompson. “ About
seventeen years ago, Mary and’ myself, trav-
eling nortli, for the benefit of our health, and
to visit some friends in New York city,
took with us our li:tle Charley, who was
scarcely four years‘ old, and then our only
child. We arrived there in safety, and,
after staying with our friends for some time,
set out on our return home. Anxious to
prosecute our journey, we immediately, on
our arrival at Philadelphia, took the ste-ain-
boat to proceed on. I went to see. to the
safety of the baggage, thinking that my
Mary and Charles were in the cabin, but
what was my surprise, when, on going into
the cabin, some time after, to find Mary
there alone. She thought I had Charles
with me, and she swooned away when I in-
formed her tbatl had not. We searcbecl
the boat over, but no Charles could be
found, and then it struck me that he had
wandered on shore before the boat had.
left the wharf, and, consequently, was left
behind. I-low harrowing was the thought
that the distance was every minute f:1st-widen-
ing between us and our beloved child! But
there was a thought still more distressing.
Perhaps he had fallen overboard, unseen,
aud_was drowned. I-lo'wever,‘ietennined,
on arriving in New Orleans, and leaving
Mary with her friends and relations, to re-
turn to Philadelphia, and spare no painsor
expense in trying to discover his fate‘; but
the great mental excitement and bodily fa-
tigue I had undergone, threw me into
fever on the way, and it was several mont s
before I recovered. When I did, and ar-
rived in Philadelphia, no trace could be dis-
covered of ‘our child, and never since have
we heard anything concerning him. But
God be praised, be has given us a son in
ybu.” .
“ But was there- no mark by which ‘he
could have been known if he were left be-
hind, as you first supposed ‘I ” asked Charles,
eagerly. ,
“ Yes, there were scars of a dog’s teeth
on his left wrist, and besides, he wore. a
locket—a birthday present from his father—
around his neck, with ‘ Charles’ e-ngraven
on it,”sai.l Mrs. Thompson, with tears in
her eyes.
“ Then, father, mother,” said Charles,
baring his arm, and, drawing from his’
bosom a locket, which he threw into Mrs.
Thompson’s lap—“ behold your long-lost
son.” ‘ ‘ ,
For an instant they stood amazed--the
next they were locked in each oiher’s arms.
Then, turning to Emma, be, for the first
time, pressed to his bosom "a sister. ‘
How different was his situation now, from
what it was the day on which he fi{st_set'~
footin New Orleans! Then he was poor
and frie9ndle,ss,w1th scarce a place to rest. his
hea'd—-now he was wealthy, surrounded by
x.’
, that family where dwell the only iv/non ,friends, and blast with a father's‘, a‘mozhe»r’.-:,
. and a sister’s love. ‘He could ‘claim now,
‘what her noble father would not have re-
fused, even to thepoor youth, had he asked
it—Helen’s hand; and even her proud
mother would not objecrto receiving for her
son-in-law the heir of the richest ‘merchant
in New Orleans. ‘ I
Mirth and music resounded tliroughout,
and gladness reigned predominant in the
splendid mansion _of Mr.1\'Iert(ln. "It was
the birth-night ball of his beautiful and
,;j}ccomplish(-d daughter Helen, given on her
“nineteenth birzh-day. and the magnificent
saloons were thronged by the youth, beauty,
‘and elite of the inetropolis. All paid will-
inghoniage to her fascinating charms. Nor
beneath their fervent congratulations did
there lurk augbi of malice or envy; for the
sweet disposition and gentle manners‘ of
Helen Merton had won the good will of all
who knew her. And now, as she replied to
their warm-hearted wishes, she looked more
beautiful than ever. She was attired in a
plain white dress-, looped with roses, and fit-
ted exquisitely to her finely moulded form ;
her chestnut curls were confined by a costly
diamond head-band, that sparltlegl on her
forehead,rivaling the transparent beauty and
clearness of her complexion.
At times, when she would mingle in the
giddy whirl of the dance,a smile would
play upon her lovely features; and, when
over, a melancholy expression would steal
into her laughing eye, telling Ihat some-
thing was yet wanting to complete her hap-
piness. She was thinking perhaps how he,
who, many years ago, had won her maiden
love,_inight, while she was surrounded by
wealth and luxury, be dragging out the
prime of his life in poverty and distress.
Yes, still she remembered the companion of
her childhood. Such is the constancy of
woman’s love Alas, that it should be so
often abusedl
The evening was somewhat advanced,
when Mr. Merton approached Helen, locked
arm in arm with a young man, whose dark
countenance, raven hair and eyes, andtall,
straight form indicated a native of the south.
“-Mr. Thompson, of I New Orleans, my
dear,” said Mr. Merton.
And, atier conversing a few moments, he
sauntered to.the opposite side of the saloon.
“ VVho is that handsome young man you
just now introduced to Helen ? ” asked Mrs.
Merton of her husband. -
“ Thai is Mr. Thompson of New Orleans,
father was before him. He arrived here the
day before _vcs?.erday. I was introduced to
him yesterday, and invited him here to-
iiiglit; and if the impression is felt on He-
li;-n’s heart, which has hitherto been ‘so cal-
lons, none will ever regret the disappearance
of-—”
“ Your protege, Cliarles Ellis*.on,” said
his wife, sarcasiically.”
Mr. Merton did not answer her ; he only
turned awe y.
At first, when the stranger was introduced
to Helen, there appeared an air of embar-
rassment; but it gradually were off, and be
entered into conversation with his usual vi-
vacity. In the course of it, she asked him
if she had ever been in the ciiy before.
He replied that he had been when he was
about seventeen years. of age, and ‘that he
had then become acquainted with several
of his own age, whose acquaintance be high-
ly prized. Among those mcntionecl was
that of Charles Elliston, in particular.
As be pronounced the name, be bent his
full dark eyes upon her, and perceived that
she started, while, for an instant, agitation
was visibly depicted on her countenance.
After a moinenfs pause he continued-—
“ Bull have made inquiries since my ar-
rival respecting him, and hear that he has
returned the kindness of his benefactor, your
father, with ingrutitude,by leaving his house,
and going, none knows whither.”
“ Oh, no, sir, do not believe that; it is an
idle report. He had reasons for leaving my
father’s house.” and her voice trembled, and
a tear stood in her eye. ’
Just then a gentleman advanced to claim
her handfor the coiilloii, and the con verso
tzon was abruptly terminated. Charles re-
signed her silently, but his heart was full.
It is strange how the lapse of a few years
between youth and manhood will change the
face and disguise the form ; the slight strip-
ling,ilia1, a little while ago, clambered on
our knee, we can scarcely recognise in the
full, stately form, and staid demeanor of
manhood. So it was with Charles Thomp-
son; and no wonder that Helen and her
father could ‘not see, in the rich merchant
from the South, the poor lad who, six years
before, had left them with scarce a dollar in
his pocket. ., .
. ll. was/the morning following the ball, and
‘Mr. and Mrs. Merton and Helen were sitting
in the parlor, the two former engaged in dis-
cussing some private affairs, the latter with
her head resting upon her hand, apparently
in deep thought. The servant entered, and
handed Mr. Merton a letter. I-le'opened it,
and, after having perused it for a few mo-
menis, uttered» an exclamation of joy. Both
his companions looked up. Seemingly over-
come by the excitement of some unusually
pleasing news, he approached his daughter,
and, gently patting her on the cheek, said:
“ Come, come, dear Helen, cheer up;
Charles, our,own dear Charles, -has arrived ;
be is in the city, and will be here. in half an
hour. Cheer up, my dear.” ' '
And he began to pace the floor. “See
here,” he continued, as a splendid equipage
drove up to the door, from which a young
man alighied, “here is Mr. Thompson, too;
hov. glad I shall be to introduce them to
one another l" l
his wife, ‘E though perhaps your Charles/as
you call him,.may be as rich as Mr. Thomp-
son. You know heleft word tba_t_,/fie was
going to. seek his fortune.” _ -
And ‘she pronounced this 1941/ Word Will?!
a sneer. ' ' '
'-“ And he hopes he has/f3v1n.'l it, ‘madam l”
1/
,_ / _ .. .. -. '‘:a.-z.c..-a..—
;' ,.‘ _.A-Q --coo.-u~..~...o
' ._-r-.. r
v .3 ,
the richest merchant of that city, and his
' oloud, as be walked down the street.
“d7.
I out see why you s on e, sa/ ‘music will be divinefloo.
I
.~ ‘_ _____, _ ,.... -...... ——
exclaimed Charles, who entered just at that
moment ; thanks to an ' all-wise. Providence’
that directed me to my father's house. 3 :1! is
Charles that starfds before you.” ~
‘With a shriek of delight, Helen threw
herself into his'outstreiched arms, andwept
tears of joy on hisbosom ; and the old man
stood motionless, and his,eyes were wetpand
his lips quiverecl, but_not with griefi '
When they had become somewhat com-
posed, Charles related to them what had oc-
curred since he left them. The joy that
beamed in the swirnming eyes of the;de-
lighlcd girl, as Q.-e ~ hung fondly on hei-
iover’s arm, was only equalled by the ten-
derncss with which he returned her look of
affection. How deep was the bliss of that
moment, making amends by its delight, for
the long years of doubt and of absence. It
was not long before Charles renewed again
his boyish vows he had‘.-‘pledged to Helen,
and the blushing girl listened, smiling and
weeping by turns.
Need it be added, that, in a short time,
Helen and Charles were united at the altar.
and even the aristocratic mother smiled upon
the union of her daughter with the ci-dwant
Charles Ellis-ton. ,
The Belle of the Ball Room.
“Only this once," said Edward Allston,
fixing a pair ofloving eyes on the beautiful
girl beside’ him —“ only this once, sister
mine; nay, I will even kneel to you ;” and
be bent, half playfully, half seriously, be-
fore her. “ Your dress will be my gift, and
will not, therefore, diminish your charity
fund; and besides, if the influences of which
you have spoken do indeed haunt so allur-
ingly about a ball-room, should you not
Seek to guard me from their power? You
will go, will you not? For me—for me '1"
The Saviour, too, whispered to the maid-
en : “Decide for me thou redeemed une—-
for me.” But her spirit did not recognize
the tones, for of late it had been bewildered
with earthly music.
She paused, however,
and her brother
‘pressed a kiss upon her thoughtful brow,
and waited her reply in silence.
Beware! sweet Helen Allston, beware!
The sin is not lessened that the tempter is so
near to time. Like the sparkle of the red
wine to the inebriate are the seductive influ-
ences of theball-room. Thy foot will fall
upon roses, but they will be the roses of this
world, not those flint bloom for eternity.-—
Thou wilt lose thcfervor and purity of thy
love, the promptncss of thy obedience, the
consolmions of thy trust. ' 'l‘he holy claim of
thy closet will become irksome to thee, and
thy poweréof iesisiance will be‘ diminished
inanyfolil, for this is the first great tempta-
tion. Bu-L Helen will not beware. VVhile
the warm kiss is on her cheek, she forgets
her Savior. The inc-lody of that rich‘
voice is dearer to her than the pleading of
goo, el memories.
Two years previous to the scene describ-
ed, Helen Alliston «hoped she had passed
from death giito life. For some time she
was exact in iheldischarge of social duties,
regular in her closet exercises, ardent, yet
equ-able in her love Conscious of her
weakness she diligently used all those aids
she rekindled her "torch at the holy fire
which comes streaming onward to -us formed
the luminaries‘ of the past, from Baxter, Tay-
lor, and Flavel, and many a compeer whose
name will live in the hearts, and linger on
the lips of generations which are to come.
She was alive to the prcstait "also. Upon
her table a beautiful commentary upon the
yet unfulfilled prophesies, lay the records of
missionary labor and success. 'l‘he sewing
circle busied lieruclive fingers, and_the Sab-
bath-School kept her affections warm, and
rendered ' her knowledge practical and
thorough. But at length the things of the
world began insensibly to win upon her
regard. She was the child of weath, and
fashion spoke of her taste: and -elegance.—
She was verylovely, and the voice of flatte-
ry mingled with the accents of honest praise.
She was agreable in manner, sprightly in
conversation, and she was courted and ‘ca-
ressed. She heord with more complacency
reports from the gay circles she. had once
frequented, and noted with more interest the
e._,,.,r.-siiifiing pngeanlry of folly. Then she
lessened her charities, furnished her ward-
robe more lavishly, and became less scrupu-
lous in the disposal of her time. She from-
acquaintances among the light and frivolous
and to fit herself for intergourse with them,
sought the books they read, until others. be-
came insipid. _
Edward Alliston was proud of his sister,
and loved her, too, almost to idolatry.
They had scarcely been separated from
childhood, and it was a severe blow to him
when she shunned the amusements they had
so long shared together. He admired, in-
deed, the excellence of‘he7' second life, the
beauty of her aspirations, the Iofiiness of her
aims, but he felt deeply the want of that uni-‘ ,/ /
ty in hopeand purpose which had existed’
between them. -He felt, times, indignant, ,,-
if something had been taken from hiips8'
'I‘l1erefore he strove, by, many a de'f1cP
lure her in the path he was treading.‘ He
was verv selfish in this,but'c-nc,gnscious_of it.
He woifld have climbed precipices, traver-
sed continéiits, braved. the ocean in its wrath,
to have rescued her from physical danger ,
but, like many others thoughtless as himself,
he did not dream of the fearful importance
ofthe result; did not know that the- Infinite
alone could compute the hazard of the tempt-
ed one. Thus far had he succeeded, that
she had consented to attend with him a bril-.
liant ball. .. ll
. “ It will be a superb afiiiir,” he said, half
is The.
And she used to
be sofond of d'ancin.g l ‘Twas a lovely gill‘.
spoiled-"whenihe black-coated,geniry preach ~
ed her into Their notions. And yet-;,-.,_.a,n_cl
yet-—pshaivl—-all cant!—all cantl WhaL-
harin can there be in it? And if site does;
wiilistand-all this, I willyield -the pqim,
Norwalk Chronicler