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occasionally without ceremony; the invita- He does not ask me to write,' thought || deep and melancholy musing, Mr. Westbury tion had been complied with, and Mr. West-Julia, with a sigh. He is quite indifferent entered the apartment. Quick as thought bury and Julia had returned a few visits of how she fares whom he calls his wife!' she sprang towards him, exclaiming

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Oh, my dear husband, how glad I am that you are come! But what is the matter?' she cried, as he sank into a chair—' you are very ill?'

I find that I am,' said Mr. Westbury. My strength has just sufficed to fetch me home.'

this kind. Thus many evenings had been The following morning witnessed the deprofitably spent. Another great comfort to parture of Mr. Westbury, and Julia was left Julia was, that her husband had cheerfully to painful conjecture as to the cause of his permitted her to decline several invitations to dejection.-Three weeks passed away, in - attend large parties, and had sometimes re- || each of which she received a letter from him, mained at home with her himself, and even comporting exactly with his manner toward when he had thought best, on his own part, her-friendly and respectful, but neither to accept the invitation, he had been absent tender nor confiding. Julia took his hand, and found it was but a short time, and had then returned to At the close of that period, Julia was one burning with fever, and instantly despatched piss the remainder of the evening with his wife. day alarmed by the unceremonious entrance a servant for a physician, while she assisted But after a while, this faint gleam of sun-of a sheriff's officer. He was the bearer of a her husband to his chamber. The medical shine began to fade away. A cloud of care writ of attachment, with orders to seize all gentleman soon arrived, and pronounced Mr. seemed settling on Mr. Westbury's brow, the furniture. Westbury in a confirmed fever. For twenty he past less and less of his time at home, till At whose suit do you come?' Julia asked || days, Julia was in the agony of suspense. at length Julia scarcely saw him, except at the officer. With intense anxiety she watched every meal times. What is the matter?' thought Julia. Am I the cause? is Miss Eldon ? or is it some perplexity in his affairs?" She longed to inquire. If she had displeased him, she wished to correct whatever had given displeasure. If his sadness was in any way connected with Miss Eldon, of course she could not in any way interfere; but if it originated in any cause foreign to either, she ardently desired to offer her sympathy, and share his sorrows. Day after day passed, without producing any favorable change, and Julia's feelings were wrought up to agony. She resolved, at all hazards, to inquire into the cause of his depression.

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He came in late one evening, and taking a seat near the table beside which Julia was sitting, leaned his head on his hand. Half an hour passed without a word being uttered. Now is my time,' thought Julia. Yet how can I do it?-What can I say? A favored wife would seat herself on his knee, entwine his neck with her arms, and penetrate his very heart-but I, alas should only disgust by such freedom!' She drew a sigh, and summoning all her courage, said, in a timid voice

• I fear I have unwittingly offended you.' Mr. Westbury looked up in some surprise, and assured her she had not.'

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At Mr. Eldon's, madam. He holds a symptom, and administered every medicine note of some thousands against Mr. Westbu- with her own hand, Jest some mistake should ry, and thinks no time is to be lost in making be made. It was in vain that the physician it secure. You have jewels of value, madam, entreated her to take more care of herself; which I was ordered to include in the attach-she could do nothing, but that which related ment.' to her husband. When nature was com

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Certainly, madam, certainly-any accommodation in my power I shall be happy to grant.'

• Will you allow me a few minutes for re-pletely exhausted, she would take an hour's flection?" said Julia, whose faculties seemed troubled repose, and then be again at her benumbed by the suddenness of the blow. post. On every account, the thought of death was terrible. To be lost to me,' thought she, is unutterably dreadful; but, oh, it is a trifle compared to his being lost to himself! He is not fit for heaven. He has never sought the intercession of the great Advocate, through whom alone we can enter on eternal life.' How fervently did she pray that his life might be prolonged! that he might come forth from his affliction like gold seven times refined!'

What can I do? what ought I to do? thought Julia. Oh, that Mr. Westbury were at home! Mr. Eveleth-yes-I will send for him; He can advise me, if the officer will only wait.'

Will you suspend your operations for half an hour, sir,' asked Julia, 'that I may send for a friend to advise and assist me?'

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Why my time is very precious, madam, and my orders to attend were peremptory; nevertheless, half an hour will make no great difference; so to oblige you, I will wait.'

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Mr. Westbury was exceedingly reduced, but there had been no symptom of delirium, though weakness and pain compelled him to remain almost constantly silent. Occasionally, however, he expressed his gratitude to The pale and trembling Julia instantly de- Julia for her unremitted attentions; he begspatched a servant for Mr. Eveleth, and in ged her, for his sake, to take all possible twenty minutes that gentleman arrived. He care of her own health, for if her strength was instantly made acquainted with the busi-should fail, such another nurse-so tender, ness in hand, and without hesitation receipt-so vigilant, could not be found. Julia ened for the furniture, and dismissed the officer. treated him to take no thought for her, as Julia felt relieved of an enormous burden, she doubted not that her Heavenly Father when the officer left the house-though in would give her strength for the discharge of her trepidation she scarcely comprehended every duty. Sometimes, when he was utterhow he was induced to go, and leave every ing a few words of commendation, she pantthing as it was. As soon as she was suffi-ed to say,. Aimez moi, au lieu de me lquer,' ciently composed and collected to take up a per, she wrote to her husband, giving an acab-count of all that had transpired. Her letter despatched, she had nothing to do but wait in torturing suspense, till she could either see or hear from him. On the third evening, as she was sitting with her eyes resting on the

You have absented yourself from home so much of late,' said Julia, that I feared your own fireside was becoming less agrecable to you than ever.'

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Business of importance,' said Mr. Westbury, has of late demanded all my time, and to-morrow I must start for New-York.'

For New-York!' said Julia. sent how long?'

6

To be

That,' said Mr. Westbury, 'must depend on circumstances. I may be absent some time.'

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May I not hope to hear from you occa-carpet, alternately thinking of her husband, sionally? Julia assumed courage to ask. and her own embarrassing situation, and at 'Yes-1 will certainly write from time to times raising her heart to heaven for strength and direction-as she was thus sitting, in

time.'

but with a sigh she would bury the thought at the bottom of her heart, and proceed to the discharge of her duties. Oftentimes she would kneel for an hour together, at his bedside, when he appeared to be sleeping, with his hand clasped in hers, dividing her time between counting his fluttering pulse, and raising her heart to heaven in his behalf.

But Julia's constitution was unequal to to the task she had undertaken. Protracted fatigue and anxiety did their work, and on

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the day that her husband was pronounced O, do,' she said, and always call me My dear Julia,' said Westbury, my forconvalescent, she was conveyed to a bed of Julia, will you ?-it sounds so kindly!' tune is unimpaired. I was in danger of sussickness. Unlike Mr. Westbury, she was in Scenes similar to this were constantly re-taining great loss through the embarrassments a constant state of delirium, induced by men-curring for the next ten days. Mr. Westbury of my banker in New York, but all is now tal anxiety and unremitting watching. Most continued to gain strength, though his recov-happily adjusted. The difficulty here, was touchingly would she beg to go to her hus-ery was somewhat retarded by his visits to the result of malice. Eldon was embittered band, as he was dying for want of her care. Julia's chamber, while she was gradually || against me, I doubt not, through the influence It was in vain that she was told he was bet-sinking under the violence of her disease. ter-was rapidly recovering, the impression The hopes, however, which her physician gave was gone in an instant, and her mind revert- of her recovery, were not delusive. Within ed to his danger. Her physician was anx-three weeks of the time of her seizure, a ious that Mr. Westbury should visit her, crisis took place, and the next day she was hoping that the sight of him might change pronounced out of danger. the current of her thoughts, and remove that anxiety that greatly heightened her fever. At the end of ten days he was able to be sup ported to her chamber, and advancing to the bedside, he said

of his sister, of whom it is unnecessary to speak to you. He heard of my difficulties, and knowing that he should be perfectly safe, purchased that note against me that he might avenge her, by increasing my embarrassments. I have been recently informed that Soon after this, Mr. Westbury was able to the unhappy girl looked on you pearls with attend a little to business, but all the time he peculiar malignity. Her feelings were too was in the house, was spent in Julia's cham- bitter and too strong for concealment. Poor ber. One day, after she had so far recover-girl; I fear that she and her brother are kined her strength, as to be able to sit up for dred in heart, as well as blood. I now look My dear Julia, I am able to come and see an hour or two at a time, he chanced to be with something like terror, at the gulf into you.'. left alone with her. which I wished to plunge myself, and from My dear Julia,' said he as he took her which my dear father alone saved me. I can emaciated hand, and folded it between his never be sufficiently thankful, for being turnown, I can never express my gratitude for ed, almost by force, from my rash and headyour kind attentions to an unworthy hus-strong course; and for having a wife bestowed band; nor my thankfulness to heaven that your precious life did not fall a sacrifice to your efforts to save mine. I hope to prove by my future conduct, that I have learned to appreciate your value.'

'Thank heaven,' said Julia, clasping her hands—and then raising her eyes, she added, • Heavenly Father, I thank thee! But how sick you look,' she continued; O, pray go to bed, and I will come and nurse you. I shall very soon be rested, and they will let me come.'

I will set by, and watch and nurse you now, Julia,' said Mr. Westbury, so try to go to sleep it will do you good.'

• You call me Julia,' said she smiling; O, how sweetly that sounded! But I will mind you, and try to sleep, for my head feels strangely.'

She closed her eyes, and Mr. Westbury sat at the head of the bed, watching her with intense interest. Presently her lips moved, and he leaned forward to hear what she was saying.

O, should he die,' she murmured in the softest tonc-' O, should he die without ever loving me!-die without knowing how muchhow fondly I loved him! And O,' she added, in a whisper while an expression of deep solemnity settled on her features-' O, should he die without ever loving the blessed Saviour !—that would be the most dreadful of all!'

Presently a noise in the street disturbed her, and she opened her eyes. She did not see her husband, as she had turned her face a little on the other side, and calling the nurse, she said

He spoke in the softest tones of love,
while his eyes were humid with tears.'

Do you then love me?' said Julia.
Love you! yes most tenderly, with my
whole heart,' said Westbury; more than any
thing; more than every thing else on earth!
Julia leaned her head on his shoulder and
burst into tears.

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'Why do you weep, Julia?' said Westbury. O, I am so happy!' said Julia. There wants but one thing to make my cup of blessedness quite full.'

And what is that, dearest ?'

That you should give your first, your best affections where alone they are deserved, to your Creator.'

on me, rich in every mental and moral excellence, who loves me for myself, undeserving as I am, and not for my wealth.'

It was now June; and as soon as Julia's strength was equal to the fatigue, Mr. Westbury took her into the country for change of air. They were absent from the city for some months, and made in the course of the summer, several delightful excursions in various parts of the country. A few days after their return to their house in town, Julia asked Mr. Westburyif he had seen or heard any thing of the Cunninghams.'

I have seen neither of them,' said Mr. Westbury, but hear sad accounts of both. Mrs. Cunningham is now with a party at Nahant. She has been extremely gay, perhaps I might say dissipated, during the winter season, and her reputation is in some danger. Cunningham has become an inveterate gamester, and I am told that his face shows but too plainly, 'I trust my dear wife,' said Mr. Westbu- that temperance is not among his virtues.' ry, with deep feeling, 'I trust that your pre'Poor creatures,' said Julia, how I pity cious intercessions for me at the throne of them for their folly, their madness!' mercy, have been answered. My bed of I pity him most sincerely,' said Mr. Westsickness was a bed of reflection, of retro-bury, for being united to a woman who selfishly spection, of remorse, and I hope, of true preferred her own pleasure to her husband's penitence. I feel as if in a new world; "old things have passed away, and all things have become new."

Julia clasped her hands together, leaned her face upon them, and for a long time remained perfectly silent. At length she rais

'Do beg them to make less noise; they will kill my dear husband; I know just how it makes his poor head feel,' and she clasped her own with her hands. Mr. Westbury's feelings were much mov-ed her head, and said, ed, and his debility was such he could with difficulty restrain them. He found he must return to his own chamber, and taking his wife's hand he said

Your fortune, I suppose, is gone; but what of that? It was a trifle-a toy-compared with the blessings now bestowed. A cottage-any place will be a paradise to me, I hope to be able to come and see you possessing the heart of my husband, and he now, every day, my dear Julia.' a believer!'

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happiness. Her I have not yet learned to pity. Had she taken your advice, Julia-for most touchingly did I hear you warn her!-she might have been happy, and her husband respectable. Now they are both lost! O, that, every women would learn, where her true strength; her happiness lies! O, that she would learn, that to yield is to conquer! to submit is to subdue! None but the utterly ignoble and abandoned, could long resist the genial influence of a cheerful, meek, patient, selfdenying wife; nay, instances are not wanting, in which the most profligate have

been reclaimed through the instrumentality of a consistently amiable and virtuous women! If the whole sex, my dear Julia, would imbibe your spirit, and follow your example, the effect would soon be manifest. Men would be very different creatures from what they are, and few wives would have occasion to complain of unkind and obstinate husbands. A vast deal is said of the influence of women on society, and they, themselves, exult in their power; but how seldom, comparatively, do they use it to benefit themselves, or the world!—Let it be a woman's first desire to make her husband, good, and happy, and respectable; and seldom will she fall short of her object, and at the same time of securing her own felicity.'

MISCELLANY.

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When you hear them speak of their honor, they do not mean their honesty or their faithfulness in the discharge of their moral duties. One whose honor would be wounded by pocketing the lie direct is sensible of no stain when he defrauds his tailor or seduces an innocent maiden. So that Revenge, in a christian nation, would appear to be the principal duty of man, which should be most religiously observed. The doctrine of forgive

Jonathan.-(Not yet the victim of despair,
and putting his mouth to the old mau's earness, altho' dwelt upon in the pulpit, is ous-
bawled out) ' I've got gold.'
ted from fashionable society, and stamped as
the weakness of a mean and dastard spirit.

||
Old Man. So have I Jonathan, and its
the worst cold I ever had in my life.'
saying the old man sneezed, wash up.'

So

By this time the old lady came up, and having observed Jonathan's unfortunate luck. she put her mouth to the old man's ear, and

screamed like a wounded Yaho:

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Hard of Hearing, A Love Story,
A YOUNG Jonathan once courted the daugh-
ter of an old man that lived down east,' who
professed to be deficient in hearing-but for-gone.'
sooth, who was more captious than limited in
bearing, as the sequel will show.

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Judicial Pun..

It appears from history, that the late lord Norbury was not the only judge who indulged in a joke upon the bench. Lord Chancellor Hatton had been sitting for several days hearing a case which turned altogether upon the extent of certain property, and the correctness of the boundaries thereof. The counsel on one part, said, my Lord I assure you we lie on this side.'

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6

A hot Berth.-The Baltimore Sun has this advertisement: wanted, three steady men

to carry the sun.'

Dadda, I say dadda, you don't understand him, he wants to marry our daughter.' Old Man. I told him my colt halter was Old Lady. Why daddy you can't understand, he's got gold! he's rich.' And we, my lord,' said the opposing It was on a stormy night in the ides of Old Man.- He's got a cold and the itch counsel, most unquestionably lie on this March, if I mistake not, when lightning met eh! what's the devil doing here with the itch? side.' The chancellor, rising, said, if you fightning, and loud peals of thunder answered eh! So saying the old man aimed a blow at lie on both sides, which of you am I to thunder, that Jonathan sat by the old man's Jonathan's head, with his walking staff but fireside discussing with the old lady (his in-happily for Jonathan he dodged it. Nor did tended mother-in-law) on the expediency of the rage of the old hero stop at this, but with asking the old man's permission to marry an angry countenance he made after Jonathan, Sal. Jonathan resolved to pop it' to the who took to his heels,, nor did Jonathan's old man the next day, but' said he, as I luck stop here, he had got out of the barn think of the task my heart shrinks; and re- yard, not far from the old man, who run him. solution weakens-he's so ding'd hard to hear a close race, ere Jonathan stubbed his toe, a body.' In the mean time, the old man who and fell to the ground, and before the old was hypocritical, so far as hearing was conman could take up' he stumbled over Jonacerned, feigned total indifference to the con-than, and fell sprawling in a mud hole.-Sullivan, N. Y. $2,00; S. B. T. Cannonsburg, Pa. $3,00 versation between his wife and Jonathan, but Jonathan disappeared with the speed of a contrary to the anticipation of both, he dis-John Gilpin, and poor Sal died a NUN-never tinctly heard every word that passed. To be got a husband. brief, night passed, and by the dawn of another day, the old man was to be found in his barn lot feeding pigs. Jonathan also rose from bed early in the morning spied the old man feeding his pigs and resolved to ask him for

Sal.

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Scarce had a minute elapsed after Jonathan made his last resolution ere he bid the old man 'good morning.' Now Jonathan's heart beat! now he scratched his head and ever and anon gave birth to a pensive yawn. Jonathan declared that he'd as leave take 59 stripes as to ask the old man, but,' said he, aloud to himself, however, here goes it, a faint heart never won a fair gal,' and addressed the old man thus:

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E. E. New-York, $1,00; L. B. B. Arlington, Vt. $1,00;
J. M D. East Corinth, $1,00; C. B. Jay, N. Y. $3,25;
S. B. Gaines, N. Y. 61,00; W. B. East Clarendon, Vt. $1,00;
W. A. T. Big Flats, N. Y $1,00; A. W. Spencer, N. Y.
$1,00; F. W. Middlebury, N. Y. $1,00; D. D. Little Falls,
N. Y. $1,00; M. B. Fort Hamilton, N. Y. $1,00; P. M.
Mandana, N. Y. $5,00; P. M. Worcester, N. Y. $6,00;
E. E. Albany, N. Y. $1,00; N. B. Marathon, N. Y. $1,00;
C. M. Waterloo, N. Y. $2,00.

MARRIED,

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In this city, on Thursday evening the 21st inst. by the Aun Lovejoy. At Kinderhook, on the 19th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Meek er, Doct. A. P. Cook, of Chatham, to Miss Phebe H. Shipman, of the former place.

At Canaan, on the 13th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Baldwin, Mr. John Strickland, of Lee, Mass. to Miss Abigail Warner, of the former place.

At Pine Plains, Dutchess co. on the 14th inst. by the Rev. Mr. Saver, Mr. Henry Parker to Miss Jeanette Holley, all of that village.

At New Lebanon, N. Y. on the 13th inst. by the Rev. Silas Churchill, Doct. William S. Pelton, of Ithaca, to Miss

Mary B. Tilden, daughter of Elain Tilden, Esq. of the fornier place.

JUDGING from the customs and sentiments of a great portion of mankind, one would almost suppose that revenge was a virtue. It Rev. Mr. Waterbury, Mr. John B. Jenkins to Miss Emily is considered by men of honor,' disgraceful to put up with an insult. Even if pistols or small swords are not used, there must still be some way in which an offence is punished. The aggressor must be made to suffer in some shape. Is it not rather remarkable that among men who would deem it a high insult to be told that they were not christians, the practice of forgiveness is regarded as disgraceful, and ruinous to the honor of man? If your neighbor spit in your face you will 'I say old man I want to marry your hardly secure your character if you do not daughter?' break his head. Young men boast of their courage, which, in common parlance, means nothing more than a hasty hand to avenge trifling injuries which they either receive or Jonathan.-(Putting his mouth close to imagine that they receive from their fellows.

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Old Man. You want to borrow my halter. I would loan it to you Jonathan, but my son has taken it and gone off to the mill.'

DIED,

In this city, on the 14th inst. Caroline, daughter of An

drew and Elizabeth Bouren, in her 4th year.
On the 14th inst. arf infant daughter of Ferdinand and
Mary Elizabeth Little.

On the 15th inst. an infant daughter of Bradford B.
Brown.

On the 21st inst. an infant son of Lyman and Betsey Bradley.

On the 20th inst. Ann Maria, infant daughter of Joel and Hannah Miller.

On the 21st inst. Charles W. son of John and Anna M. Westfield, aged 1 year and 5 months.

On the 23d inst. Mrs. Elizabeth Johnson, in her 74 year

ORIGINAL POETRY.

For the Rural Repository.

Stanzas.

CEASE, cease your sad murmurs-oh! would ye recall
The loved form that hath perished?
Would ye fetter again, for earth's funereal pall,
The loved one ye so fondly have cherished?
What though our sad hearts cease responsive to thrill
To his voice of affection which bound us,
Oh say! shall we mourn that his own is thus still,
And free from the cares that surround us?

Shall we mourn that his sorrows have melted away
With the vain ties of earth that are riven?
Shall we weep at the close of his life's stormy day
When the bliss of immortal is given?

For the Rural Repository.

Black Hawk.

He's gone, the warrior bold is gone, Far, far, beneath the Iowa's stream, His noble body lies alone,

Where mermaids sleep

In waters deep,

C. D.

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For the Rural Repository.
Contentment.

How blest is the man in whose breast
The flower of contentment doth bloom;
Whose mind ne'er with cares is oppressed,
Or darkened by sorrow's fell gloom :
Whose current of life smoothly glides
In the channel of innocent joy,
Where ne'er disappointment resides,
The calm of the soul to annoy.
Remote from the bustle of life,

Retired in some rural retreat,
Where the Dryads of pleasure are rife,
And hold in each bosom a seat;
In his humble and hermit-like cell,
The abode of retirement and ease,
In the sunshine of bliss he doth dwell,
And sips the sweet nectar of peace.
He courts not the goddess of wealth,
Nor bows at ambition's dread fane-
Content with the blessings of health,
He longs not for honor or fame.
Sweet harmony smiles in his cot,
And quietude dwells in his mind:
While happy he is with his lot-

To the will of his Maker resigned.
RURAL BARD.

The Sleeping Infant.

BY THOMAS GROSSLY.

How calm thy sleep, my little one!
Gift of a hand divine!

Care has no wreath to place upon

That lily brow of thine:

Yet on thy cheek are tears of grief,
Like pearl-drops on a flower;
Frail emblems of thy sorrow brief

At evening's lonely hour.
Yet thou wilt wake to boundless glee
When dewy morn appears,
Nor e'er remembered more will be
Thy bitter evening tears.

But what are these thy hopes which share?-
Thy feeble hands which fill?—
Thou'rt grasping with a miser's care
The little playthings still:
Come yield to me the useless toy,
Till morn's young beams shall peep ;-
Nay, struggle not !-can'st thou enjoy
These trifles in thy sleep?

'Tis thus with man, whom old age brings
To life's declining vale,

He weeps at Time's stern call, and clings
To trifles just as frail.

From the Phoenix. The Flower Gift. "Twas not the rose's blushing stem, That gay and gaudy flower; 'Twas not the myrtle's snowy gem,

From summer's sunny bower; 'Twas not the loved acacia's light;

The lily's fragrant cup,

Nor the proud Iris, blushing bright,

To drink the sunbeams up.

"Twas not love's own mysterious flower,
With magic sweetness wrought,
But the pale gem of spring time hour
Was all the gifts she brought,
Plucked from the sunny bed of spring,
Amid the forest wild,

An offering meet for joy to bring
To nature's loving child.

M. E. J.

The Farmer's Song.
SWEET is the bread that toil hath won,
And sweet the sleep it brings,
And sweetly when the day is done
My cheerful helpmate sings;
How proudly round my hearth I see
My sturdy sons draw near,
And O how kindly smiles on me
Each one that's gathered here.

A thousand songsters welcome me
Forth to my daily toil,

And flowers of many a form and hue
Upspringing from the soil;

Fair spring with promise beckons me
To sow the needful grain,
And glorious autumn, thankful, shows
Its harvest mantled plain,

The student in his narrow cell,
Reads by his midnight lamp;

I read in nature's open book,
Truths of immortal stamp;

While monarchs tremble on their thrones,
And quake the city lords,

I firmly stand upon the earth

A basis deep and broad.

Sweet is the bread that toil hath won,
And sweet the sleep it brings,
And sweetly, when the day is done,
My cheerful helpmate sings;
How proudly round the hearth I see.
My sturdy sons draw near,
And O how kindly smiles on me
Each one that's gathered here.

The Marriage Festival.

BY MRS. ABDY.

'FESTIVITIES are fit for what is happily concluded; at the commencement they but waste the force and zeal which should inspire us. Of all festivities, the marriage festival seems the most unsuitable; calmness, humility and silent hope, befit no ceremony more than this.'-Goethe. LADY thy merry marriage bells are ringing, And all around thee speaks of festal mirth, The loss of one so good and fair is bringing Methinks strange gladness for her father's hearth; Yet thou amid the throng art pensive sitting, And well I know these revels cloud thy bliss, And that thou deemest such triumph unbefitting A solemn and important rite like this.

These flowery wreathes, these sounds of exultation,
Some victor's glorious deeds might celebrate,
But thou canst claim no proud congratulation,
Untried, uncertain, is thy future fate;

Nor would true friends a brilliant spell cast o'er thee
Giving to girlhood's dreams delusive scope,
But rather bid thee view the scene before thee,
With calm humility and silent hope.
Thine is a path by snares and toils attended,
Yet lady, in thy prudence I confide,
Thou art not by mere mortal aid befriended,
Prayer is thy stay, and Providence thy guide;
And should thy coming years with ills be laden,
Thou safely may'st abide the storms of life,
If the meek virtues of the Christian maiden,
Shine forth as brightly in the Christian wife.

Notice.

Notes under Five Dollars taken in payment for the REPOSITORY, as usual.

JOB PRINTING,

Executed with neatness, accuracy and despatch, at the office of the RURAL REPOSITORY, No. 135, Cor. of Warren and Third Streets, such as

Books, Pamphlets, Cards, Checks, Handbills of every description, on the best of type, and on as reasonable terms, as at any office in the city.

A. STODDARD, Printer, Bookseller & Stationer, No. 135, Cor. of Warren and Third Sts. Hudson, Has constantly for sale, at his Bookstore, a general assortment of School Books now in use, which will be sold on the lowest terms; also, a great variety of Miscellaneous Books, Bibles of all sizes, Blank Books, Writing, Letter and Wrapping Paper, Lawyers and Justices' Blanks, Writing and Printing Ink, Shaker Garden Seeds, School Certificates, Toy Books, Pictures, Stationary, &c. &c. which will be sold on reasonable terms

Cash paid for Clean Cotton and Linen Rags.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY,

18 PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER SATURDAY, AT HUDSON, N. Y. BY Wm. B. Stoddard.

It is printed in the Quarto form and will contain twenty-six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume.

TERMS.-One Dollar per annum in advance, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents, at the expiration of three months from the time of subscribing. Any person who will remit us Five Dollars, free of postage, shall receive six copies, and any person, who will remit us Ten Dollars free of postage, shall receive twelve copies, and one copy of either of the previous volumes. No subscriptions received for less than one year. All the back numbers furnished to new subscribers.

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DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE, SUCH AS MORAL AND SENTIMENTAL TALKS, ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, AMUSING MISCELLANY, HUMOROUS AND HISTORICAL ANECDOTES, POETRY, &c.

VOL. XIV.-[v. NEW SERIES.]

SELECT TALES. The History of Perourou,

OR

THE BELLOWS MENDER.
[Supposed to be related by himself.]
BY MISS HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS.

HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1837.

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NO. 9. little garret, which served for a ware-house table; and, during five minutes, a profound as well as lodging, I was accosted by four silence prevailed throughout the assembly, well dressed young men, who seemed to be which till then had been sufficiently noisy. taking an evening walk. We were in one of At length he who presided at the repast the most solitary streets of the quarter of addressed me in the following words;St. Clair. They threw out a few pleasant-The ten persons with whom you have supped ries on the lateness of the evening, accom- are all citizens of Lyons. We are engraMy history is composed of the most singu-panied by sarcasms on my profession of vers; our joint profits with what we obtain lar circumstances. Condenmed by birth to bellows-mender, which I answered in a style from our families, afford us an easy indepenvegetate among beings of the most abject of railery at which they appeared surprised. dence; and we also acquire by our talents, class, my elevation was the work of human I saw them look at each other rather signifi-a considerable share of reputation. The malice. That vice of society which ruins so cantly; and immediately after heard them happiness we have enjoyed has lately been many fortunes, laid the solid foundation of say,- This is our man! I own that these disturbed by love on one side and pride on mine. I am married, rich and happy, from words made me start; finding myself alone, the other. In the street of St. Dominic having been the docile instrument of an extra-in the dark, without any means of resistance, lives a picture merchant, who is, bimself, an ordinary act of mischievousness. and at the mercy of four stout young men. ordinary personage, but who has a daughter What would become of me! was the reflec- eminently beautiful. The city of Lyons, extention that occupied my mind; when one of sive as it is, contains not another master them, who guessed at the cause of my terror, piece worthy of being placed on a level with soon dispelled it by accosting me in a tone this charining creature. Possessed of every of affability-Perourou,' (the name which accomplishment, and endowed with every the people of Lyons gave their bellows-men- grace, all her amiable qualities are shaded by ders)- Perourou,' said he, You probably one single defect; and that defect is insuphave not supped; nor we either; our supper portable pride. Vain of being the object of is ready, will you go and sup with us? Our general admiration, she fondly imagines that intention is to do you more good than you none ought to aspire to her hand under the have any idea of. Come and sup with us; rank of a prince. Her father who is a tolerand after supper we will talk with you. Do able good connoisseur in paintings, but has a not be afraid; we are gentlemen; if you will very limited understanding with respect to not enter into our schemes, we shall only every thing else, has entirely spoiled her by require your promise of secrecy, which you adulation, amounting almost to idolatry.will run no risk in keeping.' Novels, her looking-glass, and habitual inThere was something in the voice of the cense from all around her, have raised selfperson who spake to me, as well as in the love into vanity, and vanity into arrogance, proposition itself, so seducing, that I accepted and the most lofty disdain towards all who the offer without hesitation. My new ac- are not decorated with marks of opulence or quaintances, after having made me cross the distinctions of rank. I had the honorseveral streets, brought me into an apartment for why speak in the third person, when it is elegantly furnished, where we found six other my own history I am relating-I had the honyoung men, who seemed to have been waiting or of engaging her notice, from my connex. for them impatiently. A short explanation ions in business with her father.-Sometimes took place concerning me, and we sat gaily she accorded ine the singular privilege of down to supper. I had the honor of making giving me her hand at a ball or attending her the company laugh, by some of my arch ob- to the theatre.-These slight favors turned servations and confirmed them in the good my brain; I thought myself beloved, because opinion, with which it was necessary they I was preferred to others; and ventured to should be impressed, before they would, unfold my pretensions to her father, who lent come to an explanation. The servant with a favorable ear to my offers. Returning home late one evening to my drew, after having placed the desert on the

I was born in one of those little hamlets, situated in the neighborhood of Montelimart, in France. My father had made many a fruitless effort to raise himself above indigence. His last resource in his old age, arose from the exercise of a talent which he had acquired in his youth; that of a bellows mender. This, though not a very brilliant occupation, was the profession to which I was destined, at that time of life when I was thought capable of earning my livelihood. Satisfied at first, in following my business under the inspection of my father, nature had endowed me with dispositions for industry, and I soon rivaled, and even excelled my master. Ambition led me to imagine that my talents were fitted for a wider sphere; and some of my excursions, as far as the gates of Montelimart, succeeded beyond my wishes.

After furnishing all I could spare for the support of my father's old age, I found means to amass a little sum of money, which enabled me to undertake a journey to Lyons. I made my appearance in that great city, amply provided with such articles as belonged to my profession; and the most crowded streets soon resounded with my cries. I was young and dexterous, and well shaped I sold my wares rapidly, and became a general favorite with the chamber maids; which was the utmost of my ambition.

Indeed my family, profession, fortune and

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