The Cardigan Observer and General Advertiser for the Counties of Cardigan Carmarthen and Pembroke

TREASURES OF THOUGHT. If them Wfc thrown a glorious thought Upon life's common way8, g Fret T" ?ain haTe ^ughfc, et not to lose the praise. Great thinker, often tbou shalt and, Tn fl folly plunders fame, y rich store the crowd is blind, Nor knows thy very name. What matters that, if thon uncoil v T • S?ul that God has given, Aot in the world's mean eye to toil, But in the sight of heavon ? If thou art true, yet in thee lurks -ror fame a human sigh To Nature go, and see how'works That handmaid of the Rky. Her own deep bounty she forgets Is full of germs and seeds, :Nor glorifies herself, nor sets Her flowers above her weeds. She hides the modest leaves between, She loves untrodden roads richest treasures are not seen By any eye but God's. Accept the lesson. Look not for I AH ,.ai^ 5 from out thee cease I selfish ends, and ask no more I Than to fulfil thy place.

STRANGE CLAIMANT; OR, TWICE WED. -+- OIIAPTER III.-( Continued). up his residence, though^th« h°U&l1 he ^ad fixe^ UP°° tor considerably abov« tU 88 Was one in pretension abouts, and in the ordmai7 dwellings there- what was called t> r°mantic part of the coast, on Rehouse W KPga?g01iff' by the bui'der i„„ lnbabited, though it was left, in SandcomhA £ omplete. It caused quite a sensation discoverer! A D' °ne fine morning, workmen were SoiokerosH f m •ye(*. on tho long-deserted dwelling. tonishmB«f r°m1ltachimney,and soon, to theextremeas- Megtofn ° gossips, it was found that Saul Sutnour T\the new tenant and their neighbour. fifty Jiff' .1™ had assigned to this dark Btranger each dfemfJ1 c^aracters—all black as his beard, and her opinion X° ^an the last—soon began to alter smugglenf »!fn a smuggler, a spy upon the exile—I vno_ es(*aP^d convict, a Jesuit, a foreign naent of all a« w^at beside; but, to the amaze- acquaintan^ a» I penally unfolded to their One old woman w"hflen» ^nducted man. *be village ever went ^.8^.ouae 5 but> as no one from domestic habits were nnTv lto door' mnc^ of his ^iry, who took Sand WW°; .The^f">m the gang, told of the^uiet n«i„l 7^ *-»eek to Deep- ■who had met Saul in his solifn!? place; the men ^d along the beaS eavewZ^* OTertheclifc Wspoken, pleasant'way Tn Xtelh of the conversation; and once ahnM u- ?ntered »to tured on remaining u°ld Fchm> *ho bad ven- among the rocks ftfur t11 »W Playmate8 slunk away pathless to^h^w wWnflaPWCh,CamePuanin« beard" had given him H man witk the and relateda han<^l of pence aBkedhim hl had' mor<?ver' stroked his head, father r name' and if went a-flahin* This fact c of certain youthfui1^^ **7 subsequent experiments— example—almost estefentU*rsLur8ed by 80 signal an stranger, which reachiv ■ 6 rePutat">n of the Sunday f0un<i hi ^fed its climax when the following so com mend aki pariah churcb, and a begin- practice. Master iT8S ^G^owed UP by subsequent af«F«Kt to CviHf waB yoted 8n honour and somewhat in fv, ,a^ouBh the good folks were hood but it 1 ark as to hifs meana of lireli- 0ne Whole dav; n ascertained he went from home was tolerabl/iTTi, m^nth>and tbe Public mind a pension d J" the ldea thftt he went to draw In the IIMI of ,that" iad encounterpHh+i?ng COming from church, Meghorn bat, in token of »J°u Dg couPle> and had raised his touched his own. salute the young fisherman had but a verv^ aufu^' whom, I have said, he did not 8ee the down acquaintance, and certainly of his wife at this i e^es and too-ready blush >follies. He miahfr >io 6 rerQinder of her past arm, and the invotnnfV6 the closer hold on his arm, and the invotnnfV6 pressure to kia side; but a time had arrived wbo ary P.ressure to his side; but a or accounted for »i!°v.llothln^ is to be wondered at /and Aaron wag-In* „ a y°unS wife does or says, was suppo8e{j t 'according to the law established, and careful of ~~very proud, and very anxious He was retin>nJ« ln^eres';ing invalid. fe 1Dg, busy with hJ3 a 3°urney inland one even- thought nf i P fu vl81ons of afuture made brighter 'ith certain A 6r 1.ncreased happiness, not unmingled hichTav!^fifnanCial simulations, when a voice, to in. or some time been a stranger, hailed tf T> Bo dow?. lad why, it's ages sia' I see •d how "f0:1' and what hast thee been after? p» thee never looks in upon the missus pa gave but a cool greeting to the landlord of To„p^eP ° Day," who had never been much of a • j,, ,e v/1,h him, and made some brief excuse ition We"' we'l •' a pretty wife is reason en«w, Va v en°^ b11*" thee might look in when thee is g jt u ve some prime liquor in hand just now, » snou^Id cost thee nout, for old acquaintance \y both^»pI1^6d and then, as he walked on the it heinp /0,n^' expressed some surprise at the Yea it- K n ,py to custom, so far from home. i.toS'r4 hke*ne,be it? but I ha'been to j*d, for T K er'and I thought Td take the easiest fcankien tb^f1 j0/0?"8 as 1 were. But I say, (Tettv wifa n' ne6^ — °°k sharp now after this to live hJeaboui/' d° W Meghorn < What^n6^ and fronted him suddenly. ,Hre Tou nL J°U mea2 he "claimed. « How fcsghorn to her T** W tllat wa^ ? What is ft "Orf.. i Dashing down the heavy basket be carried the iflsherman turned npon the publican, and seized him 1" by the throat. | "Speak plain he shouted "8av ^AV.°rS fflSr tu Speak, then, and be cmick » ™ leasing his throat, but stilffiDin^M ranUen' Why, I thought you UP°° him. -I wouldn't have spoken if I hadn't^St^6* that they carried on, him and her 80— Hi/u and who 1 Whatthe-isityouione%n?" cried Aaron, shaking him. u Him ? Saul and your wife." It's a lie—a foul lie!" exelaimed the young man. Oh, well, if thee choose to say so. I only know I saw 'em times out of mind on the beach and among the rocka there—ay, up by the Ohine by moonlight, too, of evenings. Why, I thought everybody knew it. -wear, dear, I'd never have said aught, if I'd known, ■they said it was but a toss up which of yer she had ut there, it was nothing, lad—nothing—it's all gone and past. I don't want to make mischief—not I, ranklen, lad and thee'il look in and see the missus ay, do." The young man had relaxed his hold, his arm as?PPe(^ to bis side, and ho stood like one stupefied, i a." °'d sinner went his way hurriedly, and at the anrT'tk^ r'8k °f his neck, looking back every now hia -ien ^est' he should be followed bv the man whom B i7 1°DSU6 had stu°g *0 ^>7. reveni? was ,moVed by a deeper passion than braia-J • ideas were coursing through his indite*18 wife's caftious manners, her assumed With fJfCi r° M8 endearments, her fits of remorse, revolatio^h 116 Waa connecting these with the distorted and jU8fc listened to, and which was in -ertitude by his own previously-vexed Rnd all gon« dom^tic happiness. now, he would and trustingly at home till to the gossip of t)?Ve, '8^ened comparatively unmoved gorio to Nellv an^u mBn—at Jeast, he would have n,l,uko at h''r fn>> aVe ca^m^y told her, and, with a hB-ve so digmifisp-q ti?leP flirtation and concealments, D1ents- She 8°Iut,on of all their past dissgree- h(lr> worahinZr\\l Cai"e for bin;_he who doted on 6h:v not < ,l c walls that sheltered her- 'Terence «he f.him she strove to hide the in- Uicti ehti iiiti,,i 'l-' 11 would break forth at times Ir' was inS^01,8gaiB«^and ™tedlove. cliil's, within e 8frodo up aud down the Dufd&n-_thin_,l r" ot, home—he picked up his "then, rememhci. Purchased for her in the town 'kfcder, ha fiun^ !^g S°^e WOJrd or tone of the vile lis b&ske^ rj.y,d turned froai li the well-known light, the ruddy beacon that M often gladdened his return. He could have, the infOrraer-SaulMeghorn-himself-Oveq&a her—he had loved her so long, so dearly • e j his life, his all; he could not lose her and falg it—yet could he love her knowing her to o? ff What should he do? Should he her deceit—could he? No! he would ratne^.|^ her, and ask her, calmly, and in all really not care for him, her loving, baro- husband ? Was her heart indeed another sr m) He could no longer bear the uncertainty > see her, must hear from her own lips bis s Hurriedly he caught up the basket, »s it vag a leather, and dashing along the rocky P hisown door in a few minutes. the: He opened it as hastily, but his wife w jM The table was laid with the nicest ca » ,QW burned brightly, and the fire crackled anu ■ cheerily. All was awaiting him, all in re. j. said welcome," and gave token of ne where was she ? his vei The sadden tremour which ran tbrou? jcj told him how dear she was still, through a all evil report, and stern determination. red, Then, for the first time he remenibe_ > ,» ejaculated, God forbid I should do her m It was Dame Bullocks, old Dan's wife. from the adjoining room, with her "D^e'v.rt96 0f J and met the exclamation that was on anxious husband. fa- No, nothing the matter, she was only and as I'd happened to look in, I and persuaded her to lie down; sbes 3" bit." Then, after a pause, the good She's been a-sobbing, poor child, in her P. seems to have something on her mind; .M amiss, Aaron ? I ha' knowed ye from a cnua^ might tell me?" t ■. tn. PoOr tortured Franklen! here was fresb iu6J the fire that was consuming him. It was t^4^ appointed love, her mistaken union, his wite Pt/^ no doubt. Ji Oh! hew apt we are at conclusions wnen (j. tend to one's own misery! But he answere^^ good dame with truth, that there was nothi^J knew of. • Again she whispered, laying her hand upo^, arm with the kind freedom of a parent, I help hearing, ye know, my lad, and I have k%t say ye two aren't quite so happy as might ye know, dear lad, ye must just ha' ipatien<»- Nelly; she's a good lass, a sweet lass; a bit J*h and waywardlike, I know, bui mind ye, Aaro^ul never had no mother for to put her right, note's ways since she know'd the good of one—and sore misa. Ha' patience wi' her, there's a go^t a and all will come right; the little one wonders, my lad, you'll see; she will (c0^ °rk thoughtful and gentler like, wi' care o 'h^"ore Aaron, ha' patience with the young thing, fool" but young, and as good as gold—ye aren.. is me for speaking now, for ye see I 'j? my own, either one of ye ? ^as Franklen took the hand of the LI 4U both his own, and pressed it warmly and W«^9y in She little knew, well meaning as she was, g^ter. all the value of her words just then. T">oul, Precious oil upon the troubled waters of What a contrast to the last to which he ^ad bj«»oul! He looked round upon his home with a cle^^ned! and he breathed in peace; the evil tidings %Miaion, mouth publican seemed to die away foul- further off—he would not think of them. and A gentle voice from the inner rP01™j. dame, and Aaron heard her m expostulated the charge, who was insisting on rising to join her at his meal. band He hastened to add his protest to tnat neighbour, and with some difficulty s^Oe good inducing Nelly to remain where she in a hasty supper, and then came to seat bi»w « he took bed-side. "y her DameBuUocks returned home,afterrto. she should be called, did any fresh occ^jg that and they were alone. &rise-~ Husband and wife alone—each wi at the heart—longing to speak, J6 heaty bare to the other. 10 lay1 How many evils, how much ot (v world be spared, were perfect co °uld the betwixt such relations! Had Franklen but have hinted ™ k he had been told, all must have come*tfe what fidence, which was yearning for bes wy j the con* been his. v 0,ild Could Nelly only have related to r that for days past she had scarce c ^band how without meeting Meghorn on her P^« threshold reason she had to dread and avoid hk^Hd of the and self-reproach that haunted her, IZvt the fear her illness of that day—well, had i to have been very different. °»all migh But various motives held both si Once raising her pale face to hiss 44 about him. ff Ott her arms "Aaron, dear husband He bent down to her pillow. "Yes, dearest Nelly." „ She paused and sighed: then <4 dear sometimes, when I am J |w ]0ye yOl» miserable, thinking if I was to l^«elff j get so Aaron! what should I do without k'Ou, oh, de» me?" .t, o take She spoke tearfully, but witn a her tones. 'o? He was silent. Oould he doubt k must be true to him. "Let thop^ ? j* su honest fellow to himself, "} past ga'd bringing it up." And he kissed lot p^jn ber by back her words of love. ancl &os^eT OHAPTBE 11 T H E 8 T 0 B M B THK days passed on Nelly's BRJ^ 8< with them; and her health resfy3di8positioB diate cause for anxiety. ™ g^y n0 An unusually mild winter ha^. biting, inclement spring. Fiej^^j, -jed by » within the twenty-four hours to ^leg whicb compass, sorely vexed the sohi -nt of "down to the Bea," whether r of'iP —ho ^en craft, and of all who on shor^ g1jialler of suspense, nightly watched, P worge agony from the fulness of anxious hev." p^yed, hollow of whose hand are its (^pt'a0ne in the alone the winds cry ««hush,'bidding abashed. thfi 18 Great had been the loss 0(. e shipwreck on that coast in & j disasters The sun set upon families snriog found orphans clinging round P next da* mothers. Brave sons, the and parents and impotent eisterg, j/ »unnort of with talk of the coming day>t^uPP° farewell, office it should be to drag up £ k and bloody surf the mangled „Jj ^aerous vofs Weeping, and lamentation, bereavement, made d0?.^f^ the »%a8. nttle village, which had smiled Jk leftgant r and that winter's snows h^j £ auB of 0U e— beauty—that cruel spring. | 10 Amid this terrible afflict^ s out in a new character-^ jjeghorn an(j succourer of the suffering aiu c benefactor fi-5arcaused Iights -t0 Cussed. to be "fed from the conspicuous a signals Pied; boats -were, by his Jj}g dwelli°? °. ready for rendering assista^ers a j expense> and on more than ^hfiy.n it was P°?910(,if yolunteered to go out with "0e had tress; while at home, a vessel m « °r, Maimed fishermen ble^MniiL # the drown Nor was Aaron Frankle, ough the anxious fears wjLn, cAU of duJ' 5&«SLla2SS^. avoided the society ih°Z*b*°P°"Z nces made this somew ^te&k *hnt °ne occasion Saul ha^.M ^0rn 5 b o» manner as made it di^ljjcult. ° jn such a ltQ., without the impuSlt i 0n^ praises and flatteries of ^oh »nd the 1^testable to t^Vl°f eVe^ would have been, whJ Vk^an he ha^ quarrel tion, Aaron would haO Hh^rt&an provoca- His situation was j the his wife's concurraneX!? upon thftt, with event, remove to a vil? '> he a certain Nelly, on her partXT down &e coast Relieved for some KN V, ^6 mileS of trouble, sence of Saul Megk\ secret s°u lcome pre- with the fear that n^8t of u°. ^aS seized in frequent commu6Uwtt her p»th' he kneW to be into any closer en^Sw4nd.-wh,0^, should enter his coming to the crJW^ with involve The pure-minded «"cb 88 renewing an acquai A *k .he idea of and herself existed tNe« ^r9lB w to her husband, aj a m»n unk3°w" from hiai; and, th^\ h a presen her, she heard en0> >heVed, Saul to that they often wej.?^ ^on neve^_v,hours to kno Thus a sort of the n^° doom, marked the Stogether-^ of frw- thoughno unkindw^ hesifcatio » d ftBd W > The evil d^ys V^T90 of • n v. passed. The ski> t^a had to, have somewhat; they v»LeWh winds rnite of aid ancl V^, :and jb« ]m tb^r among the fornA^l?,ctl0"^Ls fortana^ backward. blessed 1a and willing labour, blessed him for what waa iut a*? fcore to than money, the service of strength as activity. Pit l,i5« had spent the day, after a night of toiling at ? n .n craft, assisting the removal of one of those itb tfhose home had been broken up, and I H. now sought a refuge in the town. ihn L.^e night v»as far advanced when he returned he K >d to find that Nelly had gone to rest, but she was and, as i» not surprising, all considered, in no ast %sant humour. 8(i6 began by gently upbraiding him for not being ton careful of his health, and neglecting needful but from one root of complaint grew another. You lea*? alone, and to serve strangers, VJ • I gometJmes think you don't love me as you did "^6," I might often doubt whether you ever loved me at 7 «il gaid Aaron, with more bitterness in his tone than was aware of. >Ut 4'«Ah! perhaps I his wife replied, her eyes i,JJ*ed uponthe fire, and in that tons of assumed in- Terence which chilled his very soul, brooding over )n'W haunting suspicion No he cried hotly you should not have been poor man s wife, Nelly; you need too much atten- ton and petting. T "I need not, unless I had chosen," she replied as 5 bitterly. „i daresay not. it is a pity y0u didn't choose I; « oh! it'8 nofc J?0 ,IaJe' 8h| exclaimed with flushed cheeks, and eyes that glittered as she turned them full irP°B/ -—: ajJ|aI1Pe that word! he cried, as i he sprang fr°m his chair, and dashing on his hat the had bufc,L^?)f^Uflhed1Pa8fc her, flung open l, the door, and l^P^ low paling out into the dark. She sprang after him to the door, to the gate, cried aloud to him to «>m«'back for mercy's sake—to come back that she was but joking. « Aaron! husband J dear Aaron!" The rocks sent backthedMpamng who, the wind moaned pitifully up the cleft, but he, far^below, was dashing head- long down the rugeed pathway to the beach. "To the boats? oh, he will go out, and the wind is rising off shore, she sobbed oh, Aaron mv dear dear husband, come back oh, do come back." The sleet began to fall, dark clouds were rapidly covering uP_ slle shuddered as the cold pierced to « heart, and weeping, she returned to the ^fer in all their disputes had he thus left her. ghe could n0, g0 ° bed—m the utter darkness she da^/tT6havee on^nehher "°»'d t. »r»d f° »«*»<>«*«' "tur.; bat .h.hioS?°!S increasing wind, andthesleet pattermg on thecaseLent. ghe made up the fire, for she thought he would surely and need the warmth, and oh how thankful she would be! how good, and kind• and never, nfer would she say such cruel things again ° But the hours rolled on; midnight had co £ > ^d was past; when, in the first hour of the mornSr the awSS ™waat surpassed The thunder roared, the sheeted J •»«« strain, -hla«e; the ram poured m torrents anil streams, swollen to cascades, dashed with a deafening gound to join their waters to the seething cauhW flhich hissed, and boiled, and groaned below All SEffiS Bsrsssssc; »• •«; £ ttu: 11 Trembling, she knelt upon the floor of W A JL «m*A from Z15S ifbg3 £ S= £ JTsfc never, never will (To be continued.)

POOR TUB-WOMAN TTTP1 mother of^ queeks lif a small parish, a few leagues distant from ft young and beautiful girl of sixteen sumrnl eobbing as though her heart would break Anfl^" had good reason, poor child for in her mother had just breathed her last. I^X! r00ai stood the undertaker and one of the DariS. V°T They heeded not the sobs and lamentation- girl, for tbey were used to such scenes K J? £ en summoned hither by some friends ne^hb^ and were considering with characteristic sagenesa t^ causes which had led to the present state oMncrea^d res. srs* ss b»»^uP "»omeBto( h«li(e7to"te°ephoa Jack Forsyth (that was the girl'a fafW\ .r, had been left with £ 300 fortune; but ^hi }*7 8a,d' Sered it all before he died, and ?«>?^uaQ- child to come on the parish. And such waT the promoting causes, they assured each other present increase of pauperism and na„« f tbe still further affirmed, could never be cheeK8m' I7 dued so long as people were allowed to ?0r 8ub" pleased, and throw away the moSy k°nd V had given them. ntt Providence Ellen Forsyth, despite the frantic grief, could not well avoid listening to l™ her of these interesting worthies, and SV.A refnarks solved that, come what might, 8h« „Sfccretly re- become a burden to the parish. ever would fore, was the form of her dearly-bei6_,j,00ae,r» ^re- mitted to the dust, then she disposed of com- of furniture the house afforded «Afti y .articlea parish beadle, who had defrayed the flll! ,Wlfch fn the first instance in behalf of th .exPen8es narish beadle should, and turned haw paWsh. as a in the direction of London. She res°lutely deal of London, though she had #1 ?d a great After a journey of four or five hours LI n there- sore, she reached a low inn ia thi and fo°t- town. It was during the troubloU8 tim ^8 of Charles; and, coming with no the first found it impossible to obtain a situati. tion' girl. The little money she possessed K a 8epvant exhausted, and no other opportunity n 61°g at ^enSth she engaged her services to a wealf^1^08 iteelf' carry out beer from a brewhouse-_k^ rewer« to sequence, one of those persona who a^m]ng' in con- tub-women. re denominated Mr. Peasley, the brewer, who han single gentleman, observing a good-WV?ened to be a most menial and degrading of occutwr g ^tfl inthia instantly into hw employ as a servant her If Ellen waa attractive in the mean u- woman, she became positively irresistihi e,of a tub- in the neat ga^b of a servant-girl, nu ° fche brewer and intelligent—modest likewise, yet 8Pr*ghtly served and the brewer, whose heart » n and unre- found himself day by day beconv 8UscePtible, entangled in the meshes of l0ve A ln3ensibly could not fail to perceive that a* -V he existed, in a social sense, between him^ic richest commoners in England, and 00e of the girl, who had neither money nor friend P0or servant not even respectable antecedents to 8' and perhaps But she was superior to all the b«H C°?lmend her. blandishments of that dissolute peri„^ctlTe arts and it impossible, by presents and promiJl 1 and finding from the paths of virtue, the a ^Pt her able to restrain his passion 1 no before the incorrigible Ellen, and offf° ted himself and fortune, which she, considering ?.her hia hand generosity of the proposal, kindly acU. love and Bllen Forsyth, now the wife of pted. and possessed of charms that the Iovfii^eal% citteen, land might have coveted, soon becaml1 ladJ in the and flattered by many, and hated j;6 ^urted, petted, portion by the remainder, who had Wi 8anQe Ppo- her progress from the low calling Qf „0ualJ regarded a coach-and-four, and tjie arms and A>^U °man of the prince of the brewers of Rustless purse who was more tj>an double the age ftf u p«asley, while she was aa yet a young woman died her undisputed heir to the bulk of hit 25> leaving rendered ber more than ever the obilv0perty. which fortune-hunting persecutions. J E °* flattery and The business of the brewery was of and no one but those far beneath 'he-C°Ur8e> dropped; and maliciously inclined, presumed t** 8°cial dignity antecedents, or to recollect aught of tl° ^tion her she had first appeared in the real lif6 at Period when low life as a tub-woman. Of course th 68 of London and earls to whom she nodded thro, V°rds» dukes, window, had no disposition to know » Lher carriage dalous a matter, so long as the of so scan- widow was willing to receive their at? and beautiful encourage them with her seductive and to still greater triumphs. "Wiles to hope for On the death of Mr. Peasley, a lawyer, named Hyde, was recommendB^aainent young ing and dashing widow as a 8l,i(..to ^e bloom- arrange her husband's affairs. Now e Person to work without a precedent—and the W°Velista do not with the page, or the father's secret^y f&lla « love the Bame; and the miss with the mun ^hich is all monsieur, who gives twelve lessons ? or the bachelor uncle with the housekeeper ?.nch the riches and poor relations in abundant u^h he has with the barmaid, who treats him tl' op the cstler oia the oly; and pray@ why should it oin-and-watet on the sly; and pray, why should it .n'and-water for thfl widow of a wealthy brewer t flut of P^ce with the handsome and einbitioujin love ploys ? It is all the work of a*8ociaH0riley she em- if the affinities be right; in proof,0"1 tell you add that the widow of the brewer did f i ieh> m< Hyde attorney, which was all pronli 111 love wit! yer an<j businees 1 like, and to work up the usual, or rather unusual, climax, Hyde, who regarded the widow's fortune as too substantial an affair to be trifled with, readily followed suit—loved, proposed, and was accepted. Hold!" says the reader. This transaction is no romance! It smacks too much of the world and —Change Alley!" True, it is difficult to rid ourselves of the old im- pression of love in a cottage, princely troubadors and similar moonshine—at least when compared to the present matter-of-fact narration. But the world of the real is not less stereotyped in representation than the world of the ideal; it is all the same yester- day, to-day, and for ever. Circumstances mav modify passion, refine intellect, purify thought, but in reality, human nature remains the same in Botany Bay, or' China, or at the Antipodes. Twenty years ago,' we remember to have seen Miss M'Crea murdered in statuary, and the other day we saw her again, a little faded, it is true, as naturally might be expected after constantly undergoing the process of being murdered for so long a period by a malicious savage in red daub and feathers; and as you look, are you not morally satisfied she is the same unfortunate lady, of the same identical plaster and wax that yonr grandfather saw, and that your grandson is positively certain to see, and to regard with the same admiration and awe that you yourself once regarded it ? Suffice it to say, or rather let it be sufficient to add, that the lawyer and the brewer's widow were married, and that Hyde, afterwards the great Earl of Clarendon, became, by issue of this marriage, father-in-law of James II. • go that the poor tub-woman was mother to the queen- mother of Mary and Anne.

A ROIXED-re HEDGEHOG.—When disturbed in its excursions the hedgehog has the habit of rolling itself up into a ball, with the head and legs tucked carefully away under the belly, and the whole exposed surface completely enclosed by the spiny skin of the back. This is effected by the contraction of a most complicated system of cutaneous muscles, the most important of which, called the orbicularis panniculi, forming a broad band encircling the body, draws to- gether the edges of the spiny part of the skin towards the centre of the ventral side of the body, thus forming a sort of prickly bag within which the whole body and limbsof the animal are enclosed. When thus arranged by the action of the cutaneous muscles, the whole of the spines of the upper surface are strongly and firmly erected, making a fence which suffices to protect the hedgehog from tbe attacks of nearly all his enemies. Scarcely any dogs can be found with pluck enough to make a successful attack upon a rolled-up hedgehog although it is said that sopae dogs and foxes have a trick by which to get at him, founded on the fact that a jet of water poured into the small aperture within which the head of the animal is concealed will cause him to unroll himself at once. The same power of contraction serves the hedgehog in good stead in protecting him from other perils. If he finds himself falling down a pre- cipice or from the top of a wall, or down a very steep slope, he immediately makes himself into a ball and in this form will fall from very considerable heights (eighteen or twenty feet) without receiving the least injury; indeed, hedgehogs have been observed more than once voluntarily to throw themselves down considerable distances contracting in this fashion. On reaching the bottom they simply opened themselves, and walked off none the worse for their fall.—Cassell'g Natural History. POSTURING EXTRAORDINARY. Joseph Clark, of Pall-mall, was undoubtedly the most extraordinary posture-maker that ever existed. Though a well-made man, and rather gross than thin we learn from Caul- field's Memoirs that he exhibited in a most natural manner almost every species of deforn ity and dislo- cation. He frequently made himself merry with the tailors, often sending for one of them to take his measure, but so contriving as to have an immoderate rising on one of his shoulders. When his clothes were brought home and tried upon him, the deformity was removed to the other shoulder; upon, which the tailor begged pardon for the mistake, and mended it as fast as he could. But upon a third trial he was found with perfectly straight shoulders and a hump on his back. He dislocated the vertebra of his back and other parts of his body in such a manner that Molins, the famous surgeon, before whom he appeared as a patient, was shocked at the sight, and would not attempt a cure. He often passed for a cripple with persons with whom he had been in company but a few minutes before. Upon these occasions he would not onlv change the position of his limbs, but en- tirely alter his countenance. His facial powers were more extraordinary than his flexible body. ge would assume all the uncouth faces he saw at a meeting or place of amusemen,. The World of. Wonders. SOTJTHWARK IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUHY. —We can form a tolerably accurate notion of the ex- tent and appearance of Southwark at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Southward of St. Q-eorge's Church and the Mint spread St. Georges Fields, reaching nearly to the archiepiscopal, palaro at Lam- beth, and the village of Newington. ihe Kent Road was a lane between hedgerows; and there were bishops' palaces and parks, mansions, theatres, and pleasure-gardens near the green banks of the river. There were forts for the defence of the borough at the end of Blackman-street. near the Lock Hos- pital, and in St. George s Fields, where afterwards stood the "Dog and Duck, at the eastern end of the present Bethlehem Hospital. The old High- street of Southwark had gabled houses and large quadrangular inns, dating from the early Norman times; and between them and the Abbey 0f Ber- mondsey were open spaces and streams flowing gently towards the river. Pasture-lands, farms, and water- millg were farther east towards Bedriff (now Rother. hithe), and pUee for horses. Now all tha g > ut it 18 nleasant to think of the old days, even amid the con- stant bustle and crowding at the entrance Gf the busiest of London railway stations.-OW and New ^DETTH or LINCOLN'S AssASsw.-From Mary- i Za the n-rn-r- of Mr. Lincoln fled into Virginia, a at a place called Bowling green, in Caroline n ntv he was hunted down by a party of cavalry on &h oTlprS.He was accompanied by a man the Jbth o Ap ^n concerned in the plot ■ hr.fa.r_ hadtS ™fLe in a barn. The building being surrounded tu goldiers Booth and Harrold were aum- T j *1 Zander The latter at once com- Fi Savoured to parley with bis P^uew. and, ing the commanding officer, sai P g* me chance Draw off your men, and I will fight them ftintlv i could have killed you six times> to-night; w i believed you to be a brave man, and I Would nf murder vku? Give a lame man a show.' Aa he D^ii refused to surrender, the barn was set on fire, A Booth was then seen with a carbine in nis hand, and JJootn was ta extremity. A soldier fired StiTh.Iw ho »»a 40 tbMe ,b0,,t before he expired, n for my countl, J ftOTgkt IdriTor th. b«t." Tbjn, njmit W. w»a., tB0 „, • i « TT«filegs-—useless! As tbe passion of KU calm More the «"»« ».= nupd by by inapplicable e p 8entimentalism, saw the and by a poor and hia Tlctim'a life mi8erable truth that he> bad whateve andhis own wiM anyf gooa from his own P° jned in that reiterated word. HSff.i £ S—S3W* *<»■ deserved y bestowed the soie^ pa88ed His contempt whicn is e _er he sometimes spoke— lip9 Words of ^ur? ^a°fjon—words of searching words of scathing humour but some are irony—words of p y wor(J8 0f sheer contempt, startled to find him n0 noble soul which yet why not? there can The ,<BCOPn Qf 18 wholly destitute. side with the "love of gcorn must exist si J nower of moral indig- l0,e» Like uger, gj, M riehtao^ natien, scorn has its « h^man emotions, and as function in the ecoinomy o> rightly judge as long as there are things of mpt remain. And if contemptible, so long deserved contempt, ever there was a man who D^nceIine_faiaf, to his it was the paltry, pe J fabe to his friends, false religion, false to his na J. ce_to whom Jesus gave to his brethren, false to his inhuman TiceB which the name of that fox. theatre of their ab- tbe Caesars displayed on tn the autocratic in90lence, golutism—the lust, t^e a__aj1' ^ese were seen in pale the ruinous extravagance » ri.iignjas of the pro- the,t little h»l( vioces-these local tyran d€gradationfl of the Samaritan, who aped tn their very exietonce. Imperialism to whic J ^jcr the odious and petty jud*i might well groa HHrodiaB8__jackals who despotism of these by 0|,3ftreau lions. Respect fawned about the feet of tJ hftrdWj a9 ba8 weil been l0r" the powers that be ° impotences aud im- ,aia,involyere8pectior £ gf becmieB.-J)r.tarfatsL/ hi3 wife that AN Irish be kept jn the he r^Uy wjsh^d the chid^ « Although," he con- 1 object to their nci*^ tbey would only fceep <lal6j*

LADIES' COLUMN. -+-- THE FASHIONS. Some few novelties fer the early spring are an- nounced, and among those I have seen are shot silks of eccentric and original shades, writes the Paris cor- respondent of the Queen. There is one called "Apres la Pluie," exceptionally pretty. For the present Oriental fabrics are sought after, and those sold at the Union des Indes, Rue Auber, are very characteristic, notably those called "Rayons des Astres and "Le Firmament." The first material, of Chinese manufacture, takes its name from the raised silk stripes of contrasting colour covering its woollen surface, and branching out in all directions, in imitation of the sun's rays. The effect is very striking, particularly in the three most fashionable combinations of corn colour and blue, black and blue, silvery white md dust colour. Le Firmament has even greater brilliancy. Upon its I twilled ground of azure, indigo, &c., are interwoven dazzling br:ght patches of star-like form. Hence the appellation of the fabric. It is specially appropriate for evening wear, with trimmings of satin in harmony with the foundation, and silk fringe repeating the two shades. Foremost in the mixed materials of the bourrette class is the Mousse de l'lnde, shown in eight different hues. The ground of a plain dark tint, such as bronze, myrtle, or prune, is ornamented with raised self coloured dashes, interspersed with snowflakes composed of knotted woollen threads; the whole enlivened by lines of turquoise- blue, cardinal, or sulphur-coloured silk woven in and out of the irregular patterns. Bourrette de l'lnde, a fabric expressly for outdoor toilettes, presents a honeycombed surface, dusted or speckled with two or three light shades of silk, as orange red, moss green, and tilleul; the threads are introduced perpendicularly into the pure cashmere ground, two of each colour forming a stripe. In plain materials the cachemire de l'lnde still holds the pre-eminence; next to it in point of durability ranks the Thibet Victoria, a serge like texture of pure wool, and the reps d'Arabie. in fourteen dark colours. These make up into very pretty cloaks and walking cos- tumes. Patterns, with faille to match, are forwarded by M. Le Houssel, of l'Union des Indes, to all parts of the world. The latest Parisian novelty in bonnets is either a black velvet or a grey satin, bordered with a richly curled feather, which has been dipped in a bath of silver. The effect of the loose silvery down about the face is extremely soft and pretty. Bonnets are also trimmed with gold feathers; but they are more ambi- tious and less pretty. Very stylish sealskin bonnets trimmed with humming birds, and grebe bonnets, similarly ernamented, were seen en New Year's Day; likewise drawn satin bonnets, with soft crowns, and a humming bird on the curtain and another in frent. The form is that called B6b4, with flat crown, a some- what wide brim and a tiny curtain, an which there is a ruche of coloured Valenciennes lace, which is sometimes surrounded with beads. Occasionally the edge of the bonnet is ornamented with either gold, silver, or pearl beads. There are Marie Stuart bonnets describing a heart in the centre the row of beads or pearls on these is double. For demi-toilettes there are felt bonnets to match the costume worn at the time. These have all a round crown, with a feather encircling it, interrupted in the centre with a satin rosette, all of the same tope of colour, and satin strings also to match. Some of the newest bonnets are of satin, stretched quite plain over the foundation; they are not pretty, but they are fashionable. White felt bonnets, with a profusion of feathers, are also worn, and for such gay resorts as Nice and Pau the most fantastic head- gear is prepared, so fanciful that it would not be wearable in Paris. Such, for example, is the Arme- nian cap, made of astrachan, and trimmsd with hawks' feathers steeped in gold, and in light astrachan, hawks' feathers steeped in gold, and in light astrachan, trimmed with silver feathers; the bonnet de police" likewise, in sealskin tbe Henri III. toque, in black velvet, sparkling with jet, and a pouf of feathers at the side; the Brigand hat, made in felt, and with a foulard scarf round it; the Hernani hat, with a foulard handkerchief of bright colours twisted round it. These are all seen at gay winter resorts. Lace and the shawl are said to be returning to favour with the leaders of fashion in the French capital.

USEFUL HINTS. OYSTER Soup.—Take 2oz. of butter and a table- spoonful of flour, mix over the fire, and add one quart of fish stock; when it boils add two dozen oysters, blanched in their liquor, each cut in two or three pieces add also the strained liquor, some grated nut- meg, a small quantity of minced parsley, pepper and salt to taste. Stir in at the last, off tbe fire, the yolks of two eggs beaten up with the juice of half a lemon, and strained. ROAST PHEASANT.—Pick, draw, singe, and truss, placing a couple of shallots and one ounce of butter inside the bird. Lard the breast very finely; tie a thin slice of bacon over the larding, and roast the bird at a moderate fire, basting it frequently with butter. A few minutes before the bird is done remove the slice of bacon so as to let the larding take colour. Serve with plain gravy, fried crumbs, and bread sauee. The roasting will occupy about thirty minutes. RABBIT STEW.—Take a good plump rabbit and wash it well in cold water, removing the head cut in small pieces and put in a goblet, with a piece of butter or suot at the bottom to prevent its adhering to the pot; pepper and salt to taste, and half cover the meat with water. Boil for an hour and a half, then dish. It may either be put away to cool, or eaten warm but most people prefer rabbit cold. The flavour of the rabbit may be improved, and the dish made to serve more persons, by adding perhaps a pound of mutton, and stewing all together. Boiled rice may be eaten with the rabbit prepared as follows Take three tablespoon- fuls of rice, place in boiling water with a little salt, and boil hard for twenty minutes. Be sure and not allow the rice to adhere to the bottom, and to prevent this shake the pot frequently. After boiling for the time above speeiftedpour off the water and drain the rice till quite dry, then place round the dish contain- ing the rabbit. MARMALADE PuDDMG.—Take of bread crumbs jIb., beef suet very finely chopped 60s, mix the two to- gether with three tablespoonfuls of marmalade, three tablespoonfuls of powdered loaf sugar, the juice and grated rind of a lemon, and a teaspoonful of car- bonate of soda, then gradually stir into the mixture three eggs beaten up pour into a plain mould, and steam it for three and a half hours. Serve with marmalade sauce. WATER in vhich potatoes have been boiled is an ex- cellent thing to clean and polish silver articles. To REVIVE OLD MAHOGANY FuRNITURE.- W Mh well with soap and water, and apply a small quantity of the following polish Two parts of olive oil, one of vinegar, and one of spirits of wine. This must be well shaken before using, and the furniture must be well polished with a soft woollen cloth afterwards. ON COMPLEXION. — Complexions vary consider- ably, and therefore it is not wise for every one to wear any particular colour which may be in fashion. In the day not long passed, when salmon-pink and bilious greens were in vogue, the majority of people did not look their best. Blue and violet suit most complexions; orange and its companion tints of amber, yellow, primrose, &c., look well with a dark complexion, provided that it has some colour, and is not sallow. Scarlet and crimson are also becoming to runetteg. Blondes can wear green, peach, brown, and pale blue; black also suits a fair complexion. • t n?°8t becoming colour to people who ^1Bh ?r freckled complexion. Drabs, A n .,ne al tints do not suit people who have 8a low complexions.—Cassell's Bomettia Dic-

K^j talked into a broker's offioe not >? ea'.e" "You've come to steal a coat, out The fni?608-' tlle broker, as he thruBt him ii jv | Saturday the pedler appeared in allth.jlori,. hi. Sabbath clofb«. "No.,Vir,- of M»»pVdoIlook T"" »PM the broker, you look as though you had stolen one." THE GROGRAPHY of THE MOON.-We find t at the moon 18 a planet accompanying our larger planet, the earth, on its journey wund the sun. Her 2 MtbiThJU r&?0Ut °°e-1uarfcer> her surface about 2 lOTrf. <5^ 2-"th8' hep aa88 about 2-163rda of the earth s. She completes a journey round the earth regarded as at rest in about 271 davs travelling at a mean distance of 233,820 milfs but the lunar moHth, or the period between successive con- junctions ot the sun and moon, has an average length of about 29^ days. The moon's surface may be divided roughly into raised p,,rts wbich are usually bright, and great plamsfnot sinooth) which are darker, and in some cases very dark. Over all the raised parts the signs of rormer volcanic activity are very marked, craters and ring-mountains, much larger than any existing on the te-rth, being found in great numbers on the moon's surface. Smaller craters a.re numerous, not only in the raised parts, but over the grey plains. Many cracks and faults, valleys, ravines, and gorges, are also numerous on the rugged surface of our satellite. No water and very little air seem present on the moon though there are signs that seas formerly existed there, and there is reabon to believe that the'lunar air was once not very rare. Although all is not at rest in the moon, and certain portions of her surface seem to have undergone remarkable changes, even in recent times, there is nothin^ to suggest that our satellite is at preasst the abeda cf lifs.—Soignee fæ All.