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ORTH T k H E f i l s i ® SOUTH, VOLUME 11. NEW BUITAIN, CONNECTICUT, SATURDAY. MAY 28, im. T H • QVut) M'co) Dritain lonrnal. B M M U B V B R I T T • < l l t * r, I . . M . C l U K B N S B V P r s p r l n t c r . WIU, SB IMUID IVRRT 8ATVRDAT From tha Printing Offlee of tk» Proprietor, In th« BoMBiant o the B»pUit Chuioh, NEW BKITAIH, OOMN. TRRUt:->$t.SO per nnnum, in Advnnoe. In bundles «f Are or more to one mddreM, Uamberi of Nwrttal Sohool, •nbioribinc In •<lnne« fat ths Term, furntiliod at the nnnuti rate. VREVI or AnriKTiiiNa t — For a Square, one inaertlon, 76 rente «aoh Kiilttiooal taaertlon, eta. Vor helf « Bqmre, out Ineerdon, 60 oenu; Moh additlonol Imertlon, 16 ote. one Staare for a year, tlO. Half Sqaare, tfl- Buatneii Carda, oontainlng half aqnarei per year, M.OO. • ^bcniiig Jfirtsibe. For tha North and South. T H E 3 U R N I i r O BUSH-MR. EDITOR:—By request of one of your lady readers, 1 have boon induced to write a" few • lines in reference to the phenomenon which was exhibited to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai. We' have an aeconnt of it, Exod. I l l : 2, 8. And the angel of the Lord apprearcd to him in a flame of fire, out of the midst of a bush, and behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. And Moses said, I will now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned. In this extraordinary nppearanoe are not the following evangelical subjects typical-ly represented T Was not the fire, that pure, that subtle and penetrating element selected on this occasion, designed to represent the purity and spirituality of that God who is a consuming fire? More particularly did not this flame of fire in the bush especially represent the divine nature dwel-ling in the man Christ Jesus? Very significant-ly is the nature of man represented by a bush, slender, feeble and incapable of resistance. For this reason the human nature of our divine Re-deemer is termed, a root out of dry ground, Isa.: 2, a stem out of the rod of Jesse, a (righteous) branch out of his roots, XI: 1, and a tender plant, but a plant of renown, Ezek. XXXIY : 29. So frequently, in the Holy Scriptures, is the Deity exhibited by the figure of fire, to de-note his spirituality, and purity and the terrible effects of his indignation, the fire of his jealousy which consumeth his enemies. What a glowing type was the flame of fire in the bush, of the fulness of the Godhead dwelling bodily in the person of our glorious Immanuel ? Was the bush burning in fire, to Moses, a most surprising phenomenon? and is not the union of the divine and human nature, in our blessed Redeemer, a spectacle far more wonderful to angels and to men ? If Moses turned aside to see this great sight, should not we divest our-selves of other objects, that in solemn medita-tion, we may contemplate and admire that glori-ous mystery of godliness, God manifeit in tJie fUsh. K M oses wondered that the bush burned, and yet was not oonsumed, shall we not be filled with equal, nay, greater astonishment, that this frail nature of man, in the person of Jesus Christ, is not dissolved by the perpetual residence of the uncreated and eternal Jehovah in it? Has it not been supposed with good reasons that the burning bush was a striking similitude of the oppres«>ed and afflicted Israelites under their oruel bondage in Egypt, from which they were brought forw as from a fiery furnace, and of the church of Christ in all ages! Which for the imbecility of it is termed a bnii$ed reed and making flax, and its members trees of righteous-ness the planting of the Lord, the rod of his in- ' heritanoe. Does not the flame of firo ia the bush aptly represent those fiery trials by which it has been tried and purified 7 the fire of dissension within, and the flame of persecution without? Did the bush in the fire go near to destruotion and has not the church, in her trials gone noar to extinction ? liow perilous its •itoation, when it floated ia the ark on the boisterous surface of the mighty deep ? Wlien in the furnace of affliction in I ^ p t ? In the oaptivity of Babylon? In the persecution of Antiochus, who swore in wrath that be would make Jerusalem the oommon burying ground of the JuwH, and blot out their name from under heaven? When persecuted by Herod and the Jews ? By the groat red dragon, and the man of sin, who hath sworn out the saints of the Most Iligli 7 IIow similar and often hath been its con-dition to Bhadruch, Meshaoh aud Abednego in Ntibuchadnemr's fiery furnace ? But the bush which burned was not oonsumed, for the Lord was in it. And the church hath not perished be-cause God has been her refuge and strength, a preseut help in trouble. In all her uffliotioos the ungels of bis presence has saved her. When on the verge of destruction, God has helped her, und that right early. Ulie may now adopt her aneieut expreitsiun, und say : Many a time have they uiUioted me from my youth; yot have they not prevailed against me (Fsa. CXXIX.) and the exulting language of the Psalmist, (Paa. CXXIV.) If it had not beeo the Lord who WIUI on our side, when men rose up against us, then th(^ had swallowed us up quick. Blessed be ihe fjird, who liath not given us a 'prey to their teeth. Let Israel ho|>e in the Lord, from heiicotonh and forever. MA K Y A N M I K L X W U . T H l B A I V OOHOBST. Millions of tiny rain drops Are f»Uiaff all araand; Th^'re dftnoing on the houRetop*, They're hiding in the ground. Th«v are Mry-like musiaiani With anything for Iceys, • Denting tunes upon the windows Keeping time upon the trees. A light and airy treble They piny upon the stream, And the melody enchants QI Like the musio of a dream. A deeper bass is nonndhig TVhen they're dropping into eaves; With a tenor from the sophyrs, And on alto flrom the waves. Oh, 'tis a stream of mtuio. And robin »• don't intrude," If, when the rain is weary, Ue drops on interlude. tt seems as if tl\e waYbling Of the birds ia all the bowers, Iliid been gather^ into rain drops. And was ooming down !n showers. " H O T B Y m O H T . " A R B N G U B B S T ^ R Y. In one of the narrowest streets of a great northern town there lived, ten yean ago, a dray-man and his wife. Tbey had no chiloMn; they were rough and i^oraot.—tbey had a godleM home—the scene of many quarrels and of few enjoyments. The wife, however, had known bet-ter days—days of brief, yet unfor^tten service at a farm " down south "—and,' with a gentler husband, might have been induoad to tread a bet-ter path. But tall George Robinson was never known—at least in those days—to make anybody better. It happened at this time that Sally's former mistress died, leaving an orphan almost penniless. Hearing of this, Sally's old love awoke. " Miss Kate must come here, Gera^e," she said, one evening. " She shan't!" said George; " I can't afford it, then. And more nor that, I can't live with your saints. They're all a set of hum—" " Now, George'!" and Sally grew angry. She won't cost you a penny. She'll earn her living, or I'll earn it for her. Gammon!" said George. " I tell yon it isn't gammon." •• And I tell thee it is ; and to prove it, I'll let her come. But I'll bet thee—" " No, I won't bet," said his wife, turning away to hide her, joy, " but I'll ask Sykos to write to her, and tell her to oomo at onoe." Go ahead, then," said Robinson, " Til try her; but if she don't earn her bread I'll kick her out, you just remember that!" Sally went her way, and in another week Miss Kate arrived, with a light purse and a heavy heart, at the great terminus of the southern rail-way. " Oh, Sally, Sally!" she cried, weeping bitter-ly ; " I haven't a friend in the wide world but you!" " Dear lamb 1" said the kind-hearted creature, in whose eyes Kate was still the little child she cared for years ago; " I'll make you happy if I can,—I will." God.helping you," said Kate; "say that, dear Sally—" " - " God helping me," said Sally, speaking quickly. " No; say it like a prayer." " I can't. I never prays." 0, Sally, how very sad ! But God has sent me here that we may pray together; don't you think so ?" Sally did not answer. She began to reverence this girl of fifteen, as she had onoe reverenced her mother. Tes; it was true that God had sent the child. Miss Katie," as Sarah had been wont to call her, was a womanly little personage, with a kind face set off by large loose curls, and eyes of great depth and beauty. Trained by a Christian moth-er, she was already one of nature's gentlewoman —industrious, thrifty, olever in domestic matters, and possessed of a true heart that found its ioy in God. 'As they walked home she spoke of her dead mother. She prayad for you, dear Sally." " Dare Bay," said Sally, in a husky voioe, as they at last turned into the atntet which she de-scribed as ourn." " And you'll not mind my husband, miss," she added, with her hand upon the door. "He's rough, but he ain't bad-hearted." •• O, I am resolved to make friends with him," said Kate. Sally shook her head doubtfully, and went in. A group of her husl^and's friends were gathered round the fire, and one of them, who had received a better education than the rest, was reading » newspaper and lecturing there-upon. " Holloa •" oried George, " here's the old lass already ?" But where's • our miss ?' " Outside," said Sally; " d'ye think I'd bring her into such a smoke as this ? Pah! it's eno«M to smother a poor body. Open the window, Mr. Sykes, there's a good oret«r. Pm sore my miss oan't eat her suppeKhere." " Then abe can go without," Mid George, or eat it out-o-door. Nobody wants her to auy here, I tell thee!" Sally had b^un the wrong way, and she knew it; but the entrance of her guest prevented bar reply. "This is my husband, miss," said Sally, ro-speetfully ; " und Sykos, and Rock, and Wilaou have come to sit a bit." And are aboat to ^ off to the bwr-diop, to make room for yoa," «iid Wihwn, with roook dderanee. " No, don't do t h a t j " mH Kate. I wkh to hoar you talk. What joa nOd just u Sally opened th« door, abovl ^ poor mn'a rig^ta, waa very good. I like to heat you. I want to know all about iV" The four men started! as^ layiaf atide her bon-not, she Mt down at tha taUa; while Bob Sykea nearly twisted his A m I a ^ in erder to avoid puffing a smoko-elond v l M r p r e ^ face. But Wilson did not proos^BRMHttB^raMArAt Sallv, finditog that soold her husband, signs of insubordinati^^ " Bother your kettli^ M exolaimed, with an angry gesture. " V\l MHt and your kattle oat to«^er, if yon dAHeee oar«r " You won't cried M*. Babi—ou. angrily; *' though I'd turn oi<|W*U aa aooa ai look, I would—" ^ ' "No, no, dearSalllr M.a Utile band hy on her ann; 1 don't wm tea to-night; and if yon n y BiM^ words oiniy aeoonat i tdiall be y ^ wretobed. Let me hart aoma oold water and a piece of bread—" , "No, that thot iAi»'t!" Bob Sykes. starting up. " Til bMir, the fire I will," and words w« will n o H ^ e e n n ^ his Hps. " You are ao kind ly 8|U SiiAi, and yet she shuddered. " WUl jiwiigiwsie if I ask you a ^reat faTorf* , " Forgive thee—vm th*t Im* and Toioa—«o like my lad that d&fi. , Aj, that I wiU," «id Bob, as he bent downV hair her. " Then don't ask Gti to Mnd you to hell if you don't blow the ft^** Bob drew back wit^ a frown. " What, doat you like it, Miss SaiMifiedt" be said, mo^L-indy. Her eyes were fbU if tears as die Icraked up. " Did yoa speak to boy like t h a t r she asked, in a voioe th^ reaebed his ear alooe. " Is it a worse thin^ (|i-be aanetified than to love wickedness?" He did not an8w^,^t began to blow the fire, while Sally set the t M ^ i i ^ oo a little table in the comer. Presentl|| however, he slopped, and looked at Kate. And dost thou me|m to ny diat thou art really sanctified ?" haJiaid, inquiringly; because, if thou dost thou art " " I don't," said bemde the fira. " To be h* i^vte*, holy; and I am only just beginning to love holi-ness." " 0, that's it, is it ? And how eam'st thou to begin ? Didst see a vision, or a ghost, or whatT" I saw the loce of Christ in dying for my sins," said Kate, fixing her deep look on him ; " I saw what I hope your dead boy law before he died." " And what was t h a tr " That Heaven was my home, because Christ died for me." " Bah ! you and ho were young fools, both of you." Kate thought a minute, with her eyes fixed on the fire. It does not matter," she said, pres-ently. " I would rather be thought a fool and go to Heaven, than think myself wise and be lost." In answer to thi^. Bob blew the fire again ; and when, at last, the water b ^ n to boil, took up his hut, aud led the house without a word. " And what's up with Bob Sykesasked George, with a broad stare. " Why, hast thou not heard t'lass yonder preach about his lad 'at diod?" asked Rock, with a glanoe at E^te. " She^ worked him up, my word for it; for young Bob waa one of her own sort, and all the time that he lay dying old Bob never swore a single oath." " The more fool he, to be led about by a pack of women and children," said Geoi^ Bobineon. "Just let me catch her preaching about me, and I'll tell her what's o'clock !" Kate heard him, and her heart beat all the quicker ; but she did not foar. Mrs. Bobinson had a temper—there waj no question about that. It was also a well-koown Uiot that the said temper was by no means a good one. And yet she did not drive her hua-band to the beer-ahop at iheeomer; perhaps because sha waa a first-rats plaia «ook, and h ^ always a good fire in winter and a quantity of home-made ginger beer in sunuser, for hioi and his rough guests. Miss Kate soon disooverod diis sad foiling in " dear old Sally," and set heraelf diligently to amend the matter. In thu she ao for aueeeeded, that quarrels between the husband and wife oo-ourred leas freaueatiy, and were leaa noisy than of yore. Still tWs waa asaeh need of their evening raadiuga, and Kate's earwaat prayers; for Sally had rather a likiog for tha exdtemet of an alUreation, aud George waa oAea rude to his wife and her gentle guect. One eveni^ when Bob Sykea had vaiturdd to'fkoe Mias l ^ t e oooe i ^ n , and when Geoige was about to atUok a d i A ef porridge aad a qaait bowl of aulk, Sally aat ^vwa haaide har liule friend, aad watahed har baqr haiMk—for Kate was already boooei-ttiauaar to the naigh-borhoo( L " G « roaad a y atoakti^** aaid BobiOT. who was provoked that hia raoaai propbeoy eoa-oeraing the idleoesa of the aew^aoaser bpoeaivd a» likely to reauio aaialfUlad. " TbeeM bast look sharp, I tall t h a a . or I'll a a k a thea d a» that hoyle next Sunday.** Sally looked up viih a ahaip wori on bar Kpa, but a k>ok froai Kate chaokad har ready a i ^. Swalk>ai^ a ••oaat of ind^gaaiion, she waited a M Binulaa, aal thaa »peke: ** lliy atookings are mended ahready, old boy ; and thy beat waistoeat, too. Doat think wo do nothing all daTf Qeoiwe looked at har in ailenoe. Not ao Mr. Robert Sykes, to iriMm thia gentle answer was aoiaething new. •• Why Sally thee'rt aiad!" be oried. What's done with t h j dieek, owd laaaT" Sally looked at Kate aad s ^ ^ ' ^ young lady," B<% looked at Kate and souled tin hit great wbiake««l foea M i T a h i ^ 1 f , Kalet* " I have read God's book, tf r. Sykes," said Kate, "and Sally baa listened to His holy words. Would you not like me to read to you aometimaa?" She Teotured to aay this beoauae his manner was at onoe respectful and .confiding; because his smile was ao unlike that of their first meet-ing. anawered by placing a Bible in her band. " Yea, laad thai,** he exalaimed. with de^ aanotkm, " it belonged to my lad 'at's gone. Bead whoe ha puta m a i ^ wilt thou?" " Not hwe," oried BolHnsta, ^iru^ng up and snatdiing the Bible from the i^ita 1uin& .of Kate. " rU have no games e' that sort here; I teUthee." " O. George," said his wife, pleadingly, " lei her TO on." " I won't!" said Bobinson, whose foce was flushed with passion; " you aay another word aod rU pitch yotr old book into the fire." It was Bob'a turn to now. " Just let me catch thee at it!" he eried, sternly. ** Give me that book. I tell thee, or—" " Or whatr Involuntarily Bob Sykes clenched his fist It was enom^ Another moment, and the book was cast into the flames ; another, and Kate, at the price of a seorehed hand, had rescued it from des^ction; another, and B ^ Sykes had flown at Bobinson, who, on his part, deared nothing better than a fight; anotho-, and little Kate, ruriung between the combatants, was, by George Bolwson's unmanly band, laid eenseleas on floor. - " Blood, blood!" eried Sally, as thrusting aside a mass of curls, d»e showed a fearful wound. " Run, Georiee, if yon don't want to be a mur-derer— the doctor—for ytxu life." Ha did run aa for life, wi^ that word—" Mur- 6mm **—ciagiag kia aars, that aeaseleaa fonn with the blood streami^ from a ghaMly wound ever before his eyes. The doctor came back with him, and they carried her up stairs. God's ways are not like ours. That deadful night was the b^inning of better times, not only to George Bobinson, but to Bob Sykea and Sally. As little Kate reeovered very slowly, they had to carry her in their stiOMg aiw, to tempt her appetite with daiaty &re, and to antieipato her every wish. And all this did thoao two rough men accomplish, even more tenderly than t ^ kind-hearted Sally; as, in a silent rii^ry, they strove, night after night, to hasten her reoovoy. There was no smoking then, no noisy talk. Kate lay upon a little couch which George had carefully arranged with chairs and boxes, and listened dreamily while Sykes, who knew well how ID please her, read in a low voice the chap-ters his boy had loved ; and Bobinson, no longer opposing this, listened until at last he learned to o ^ the W<xd. And thus, althou^ Kate was too ill to talk to them, she knew ^ t the good work was be^ti in thoae three hearts; and when at last, leaning on George's arm, and with Bob Sykes and Mrs. Robinson b^ore her, she walked, in grati-tude too deep for words, to the beloved and long-ed- for house of prayer, it was her ^y to know that they were all, through faith in Christ, at peace with the Most High. Yes, little Kate, thy prayers were beard and answered; but it was not by th^ might nor thy power, but by the Spirit of the living God, that those three stubborn hearts were bowed before the croas. And yet it shall be reme sabered evermore in Heaven that thou wast chMea aa the human instrumeot in thia gcmt work of God; that it was oo the teaching ot tkif lifo he poured hu Uessii^ in that lifo** sweet spring—that thou mightFt ^ioe, as do the stars, iu nia all-glorious kii^giom. MAN.—Man is but a reed, and the weakaat in natuie; but then he is a reed that thinka. It does ne^ the umvcfae to erwsh him: a breath of air. a dropofwatar, will kill hioa. But evea if the material uaiverse dhoald overwhelaa bias, BMMI would U more noble thaa that which destroys him: batMuse be knows that he dies, while ^ uaiverce knows nothing of the advantange which it has over him. Our true digaity, then, conaists iajour capabilitiea for thought and affiectioB. From Iheooe we muM derive our elevatioo—not froB SMoe or duratioo. Let us endeavor to think well: Tbia ia the principle of morals.—Ptueai A M K A S lUBtT.—^Tbara are fow habita oMre prevalent, ikou^ there are lew meaner, thaa that of speakiag ali^tiagiy of ouiaelvea wilh the de-aiga of autking tbose we adirewtalk m our paiae. Weak and vain perBoas are often g ^ t y in thia iwyiiflt Tbay ^ thu you au^ liA theai up. t i a ^ fah for food to their pride with the habit of bumiUiy. CT* floM learned aawifiaper edib>r out West aays •• that tka siaiples* way of cakulatiag the distSMOs of batvealy b^fliea, is the rule laid dowa ia Joha oekbrated lecturs upon aalraMMiy. va: fuess at oae half of the distauoe i and M t ^ y by two. NUMBER 80. H i s t o r y o f I V c w B r i t o i a , And tha f a m i i ^ l o a F a a i l j of Towns rbe valley of the Oonnectiout, to use a te appropriate to the hardahip and bntTery of t undertaking, waa eanried at four pmnta, durii the year 1680. Almoat simultaneously with t. flnt settiement of Hartford, Windsor, and Wei vsfield, John Winthrop, aoo of Gov. Winthro] of Maaaadittaetta, broke gtotind for a ffartru^ . jja^lfas sent ou - M r Sm^!^ B M abi otfierinUe^, wbohadacqoized patent or grant of a kige region of oountry, in-cluding a very coosidanUe portion of the Cni. nectieut valley. He wss supplied witit liberii' means for the aBterpriae. Besides men and amu nition, the nobla praprietoa or patentees seni over$2000fortfaawk»k. On the 8th of Oetobcr, 1635t he arrived at Boston, and set oflf as soon asposablefor the mouth of the Conneotioiii Havii^ beard that the Dutdi were preparing to take posseseioo of the river, as soon as he could engfige twenty mao, he sent them forward to in-tercept and prevert this attempt. A fow days after their arrival, the Dutch made their appear-ance in the harbor. Tbey were deqpatohed fVom New Netherlands, (New Ywk.) for the ezprem purpaae of taking poaaesnon of the eotranoe ot the river, and of erecting furtifiaatkiM. But the small band of EngliA had entrenched themselves too strongly, and wifli two pieces of cannon, prevented the landing of these competitors f< r the country. The station at Saybrook wais maintained duough the long and severe winter following, and m the course of the next summer and autumn, was ruaforced by a oonsiderablo company, induding several important men, be-sides Mr. Winthn^. Wm. Pyncheon, a man of great tact and energy, who was fiequently em-ployed by the iUver plantations as a purveyor, or commisary, in purchasing com for them from the Indiana, oommenced a settlement at Spring-field with a company from RoxbuQT, the same year. Hartford, Windsor and Wethersfield re-cdved aeeessions through the summer and autumn from Massachusetts; both by water and land. These later emigrations, though they were most welcome and important reinforcements to the pop-ulation of these towns, greatly increased the pres-sure of a previous necessity for arduous labor, and fertile ingenuity in making provision for sustenance through the coming winter. The terrible expwience of the "proceeding year might be&ll them with threefold severity, should their efibrt to force a sufficient harvest from the wild earth prove unsuccessful. A considerable num-ber of their population had arrived too late for planting and sowing anything that would mature before the early froets. Indeed, not one of the Colonists knew, by actual experiment, what would grow and ripen in a soil which had never before been turned by share or spade. In plant-ing, or tran^Ianting Ihis vine of the church, to use a simile which they made into a motto for their colonial banner. Hooker and Stone had more than Nehemiah's duties of vigilance, labor and anxiety to perform. From the last week in June to the first in December there was a greater amount and variety of difficult work to perform than devolved on the Jews who rebuilt the de-molished walls of Jerusalem, each with a vreapon of war b one hand and an implement of industry in the other. Houses were to be built, not only for shelter, but for defence against savage enemies who might pounce upon them at any moment. Roads werts to be constructed between the settle-ments ; forests and groves to be felled, and the land oleared and cultivated for oom and other grains. They bad but few oxen and horses, a small stock of implements, and no previous ex-perience for this difficult husbandry. The surrounding Indians, even those who, for difliereot motives, seemed at first desirous of hav-ing Bngfiah trading posts planted on the Connec-ticut, soon began to manifest jealousy and suspi-etoo in referencetothe form,extentand permanency of settlement which threatened to absonl the best portions of the country. Up to thia time the Indians of New England had lived generally on friendly terms with the English Colonists; re-garding the advantages derived from trading with them as a profitable exchange for the pos-seseuon of a few scattered localities, occupied by small companies of white men. Great care had beeo exercised by the authoritiea and people of the two ooloniea of Plymouth and Masaachusett Bay to prevent any thing that could tend to excite antipathy or hostility towards them oo the part of the Indians. And, although, from the rash and dangerous act of here and there an Englishman, hostile collisions had taken plaoe, between iitdividuaU or iuuall parties, no organis-ed uor extended rising of the Indians aguinat the Colouists of New England had taken plaoe.
|Title||North and South, and New Britain journal, 1859-05-28|
|Subject||Antislavery movements -- United States -- Newspapers; New Britain (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Weekly; Publication dates: Vol. 2, no. 1 (Nov. 6, 1858)-v.2, no. 45 (Sept. 10, 1859); Notes: Editor, Elihu Burritt|
|Contributors||Guernsey, Lucius M; Burritt, Elihu,1810-1879|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N5 N67|
|Relation||Preceding title: North and South (New Britain, Conn.); Succeeding title: New Britain times (New Britain, Conn. : 1859)|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproducation and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||New Britain journal; The North and South, and New Britain journal|
|CONTENTdm file name||15969.cpd|
ORTH T k H E
f i l s i ®
VOLUME 11. NEW BUITAIN, CONNECTICUT, SATURDAY. MAY 28, im.
T H •
QVut) M'co) Dritain lonrnal.
B M M U B V B R I T T • < l l t * r,
I . . M . C l U K B N S B V P r s p r l n t c r .
WIU, SB IMUID IVRRT 8ATVRDAT
From tha Printing Offlee of tk» Proprietor, In th« BoMBiant o
the B»pUit Chuioh, NEW BKITAIH, OOMN.
TRRUt:->$t.SO per nnnum, in Advnnoe. In bundles
«f Are or more to one mddreM,
Uamberi of Nwrttal Sohool, •nbioribinc In •
|CONTENTdm file name||15965.pdfpage|