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V o l . 2 . East Hartford, Conn., ^pril 30, 1864. N o . 8 . For the Elm Leaf. Seeking ArbutuK BY ZF.KE RIPPLE. The breath ol' Spring was over the laiid. The genial sun shone bright and clear : For the brown old wood we started. To seek th’ first bloom of ih’ youthful year. The birds trilled oui their joyous yongs; The swelling buds, the freshening sod. Gave earnest of the spriiiciiip life As slightly on our way we trod. We passed from thedu<ty ro.-iJ To the forest w'here nature wroutrDt. And in its quiet loaf strown Jells The "trailing arbutus” we sought. (n a sunny, sheltered nook A lowly, fresh green plant wc found. And with eager, expectant looks. We gathered quickly around. “ If this the lovely plant w>* seek AVas a t,uc-iti-i)t none could Xhci! wc set up a l>oist’roiis roar. And "p u t home" with nary pctiil. • So} oft, when happiness our aim. We labor hard the prize to jrain : But :n our eager ignorance. Let slii* the geiu we would rewii.. UlKltM* tlio Oft have I walked these woodl:*>: 1 i aili' In fadnes.s, not fiirekuxwnijr in a t unaerneath the withered !.;'(•>. The flowers o f spring were t f j'vi.i;.- Xo-day th e winds have swept away Those wrecks of au tum n splendor, And here the fair _Arbutus-lK>\verc Are .springing, fresh and tender. 0 prophet flowers, with lips of bloom. Surpassing in their beauty The pearly tints of ocean «hell'. Ye teach me Faith and l>uty. Walk life’s dark way, ye seem to say, . In faith an<l hope, foreknowing That where man sees but withered leav»;s, God sees tlie fair flowers growing. m I ^ ----------LtiohtoH. The Western Tra%ellerM. « ■ • * * * * Alas I Nor wife nor children more shall he , behold. Nor friend nor sacred home. On every nerve The deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense: And o’er his inmost vitals, crewing cold. Lays him along the snow a stiffened corse. Stretched out and bleaching in the northern blast. The following account, Mr. Editor, which 1 received from a correspondent in Cape Girardeau, will no doubt be found interesting to most of your readers. Two men travelling, about the middle of December 1820, from St. Louis to the north western part of Missouri, fell in with another traveller, named Jones, who was journeying towards his residence, which was about fifty mile^ this side of the destination of the other two. The air bccame more raw and chill, as they proceeded northward, and the snow fell in considerable quantities, et intervals. When within about two days’ ride of their home, the cold set in most in- .tensely, the wind rose in all its fury, and beneath its howling blast the sturdy trees j>f the forest bent like the slender osier, And the limbs, hurled from their trunks, were scattered on the ground: the fleecy flakes of snow were thickly twirled through the murky atmosphere, sind clouds were piled on clouds, itiaje^tic darkness, till not a speck of blue was disooi-uible on the face of heaven, and day put ou the appearance of gloomy night. Unable to proceed on horseback thiough the meeting branches that crushed together above their heads, they dismounted, and on foot pursued their doubtful way through the darkened forest, unable to discover the path, as the snow had covered it and rendered it indiscernible. Scarcely able to endure the intense cold, Jones was disposed frequently to lie down and commit himself to the care of I’rovi-dence, but was prevented from doing s.» by the others, as the numbness and torpor and disposition to sleep had not yet taken session of them. At length finding him unable to speak, and his whole jKAver of body overcome as it were by sleep, and jiidg-ing frum their own feelings tlmt the like must soon come upoii them, they determined to leave him and endeavor if’ possible to make their way to si»me habitation Xiglit was just setting in, and death in its most appalling form stared them in the face.— Surrounded with all the horrors of darkness and solitude, they continued their hopeless way through brambles and low underwood for some distance, till their ears caught the welcome tinkling of a cow bell. The wind whistling, as if it were frum the four corners of heaven, prevented them ascertaining from whence it proceeded. However, after some time, their eyes observed a light from ■i little liut, that, together with the sheep o- t a!i«i stabie attached to it, was the ‘)nly mark uf civilizati'ai for several miles in this ■ Iroiiry siilitude. We ajijtroai-hoij. said the narraror, an>i knoi.-ked at the door. .\. .jiiick nimble step was t!ie only resiioMse, aiid tiie uoir iniinodiarely opened. A lonialo an-peareU, and at first exliibit*‘d c iiisi.ieruble surpri>e, starting back a few oares, l.ut iui-mediarely advanced and inviie'd us iii. Our ueoessitios \vt»re eagerly and w ilii tin* iiiiiiost I'.ieasure attended to by the family, wiiich consisted of the wife, two sons, and a^ many • ! : i u g h t e r s . hen, l>y tiio ti;e a j . i r means resorted to by tlie lamily, wt? baa recovered sufiioiently the power <tf .'-peech, we inturmed them of the <listre>siu^ hitua-tittn in wliicii we i'ud left a leiiow travidlt'r a!tout a mile back, as we >U } > p o s e d . I'roni their conversation, 1 iiad learned that tiieir father was expected that day, from St. Charles, whither he bad gone on business. We rea<iily jierceivea from the countenances of the family, that they entertained a fearful conjecture who the traveller might be. We wished to accompany the two young men, who immediately prepared to ?et out for the unfortunate sufferer, but they refused, inasmuch as we were scarcely able to walk, and would necessarily detain tliem, and could give them very little assistsince towards finding the place, as from the irift-ing of the snow in heaps, we could nf>t be able to distinguish the way we had enme. They called their sheep dogs, aud lighted a flambeau each, and taking some blankets, in which to wrap his body, started after him. After the sons had started, we noticed particularly the uneasiness of the affectionate wife.* At every little interval she would open the door and look if her sons were coming down. One of us put our hand on the vacant mantel, on which were piled some books, and taking down a small pocket Bible, noticed written cn one of the blank leaves, “presented by .Joshua Jones to his affectionate wife, on the anniversary of their marriage,” and showing it t« the other, we both agreed that he undoubtedly was the sufferer whom we had left behind, yet we mentioned not our impressions to the family. We were invited to partake of a repast, that had been accelerated on our account, and as we were about sitting down the lady went to the door, aud seeing her sons advance with the l)ody, recognized the features by the glare of the torches, uttered a shriek, and fell on the floor. He was brought in and laid ou a bed before the fire, and friction and fomentation with hot liquor, and in tine every thing was tried to restore him, but to no purpose. The mortal numbness had seized his body, the chill of death had frozen his vitals, the heart was stagnant, and to beat no more. The voice of lamentation filled the house. The loving wife and daughter mingled their distressing wailings, and the manly nature of the sons, which supported them while there was any hope of restoration, aiul enabled tliem calmly to ui^e every means in their power for their father's recovery, sunk under their weight of woe, and they wept aloud. W'e endeavored to calm the agitation and sorrow of the distressed family, though they ‘‘sorrowed not like those without hope,” yet their grief was violent, and though the hour was late when they retired to rest, yet the sobs that ever and anon broke the silence of the night, indicated the absence of repose from the eyejids oi' the afflicted. We watched the corpse till morning, which was as calm and beautiful tis the day previous had been tempestuous and terrilde, and titly represented the calm and glorious lieauties of the eternal world in which the weary traveller will find repose. In the evening he was interred in one corner of the garden, that lay before the house, in all the solemnity of silent, weeping woe, with tlie happy assurance of his participating in the resurrection of the just, when mortal will put on immortality, V.nd death be swallowed up in victory. On tiie I'oilowing we lei't the disconsolate iamiiy, w!i'« 'vonl'l iiave gladly detained ■IS, as grief fi:..ls ahvaV' a partial rel:--!’ iu the sinci're c'>Hn.(ili-m e even of stranger>. — lii ( ‘vri.ipo'ii:! >'f Oomniei'cia! - \n - ecdoti'^, ] i u l i i b y A)i])ieroii iV („’o., Xew York, we oit.'f'rve :tn iii<-ii!i>nt oi Al‘'lian)iue-d an iiii-rc:mf lie i i i c iiliry wlsl.-li :ii;iy u cll p u l a b lu sh r!io chiTk oi m u n y jwofess-e‘ lly l-’h rlstia si d e a ie r. •• A m e rc a n riie lirm in ;!^::l"nica I'.ad bills m ;■ iar'_M- an io ia ir on tin* ]iriu c in a l in lia b iia itt' anrl m e r c h a n t' oi th e tilai.-e. w h ich , with ih e ir liooks an d pa- ]'.ers, w e n ' destrove<i by fire. ()n th e dv.y fo llow ing, a p rom in e n t T u rk , who w a s larg*> ly in ih e ir de\>t. w en t in fx'rsiin anil t-d.i th em ilia t, h a v in g he:ir>i Uiat th e ir jiap e rs h a d been d e s tro y e d , he h ad b v o u g h t a copy o f his a c co u n t w ith th em a n d fre sh b ills b>r th e am o u n t w h ic h was th e ir d u e . T h is e x am p le w a s followed b y all th e T u rk is h debtors to th em .’* it is rather sarcastically adde<l, ‘‘It does not appear to be intimatpd that this course was one that they had ever learned from the CUri^tian traders in tiieir country.’' —Speukitig ot coffee, with the variuuN ^ui>- stitutes of the day, the Seientitic American telle the uu>st tasteful story. It says : “ In England, old coffin^, dug out of crowded church-yards, are taken and burned, and some unly dried atid ground ; but all used for adulterating the [lopular breakfast ma terial. It cummunicates to poor coffee a good cohtr. It puts body into it, in one sense, if contrary to the spirit of trade ; and if iu Dicken.s’ story, the widow’s sausages were wonderfully superior until a button ot her missing husband's coat was fotind in one of them, the would-be Mocha might as well acquire a sterling flavor from the aroma of mortality borrowed from the cemetery. It will not do to inquire too curiously, at any time, into what what we eat and drink. Where ‘ ignorance is bliss,’ it is, indeed, ‘ follv U) be wise.” ’ OuKRUBiM, is the Hebrew plural of Cherub. To append t.<) them the final s is therefore improper, although it is thus appended to them in our authorized English version of the Bible. The proper English plural of Cherub, is Chernbs. The proper Hebrew plural of Cherub, is Cherubim. H o w Can F a rm iu ff be Made More A ttr a c tiv e 1 1. Bv less hard work. Farmers otten undertake more than they can do well, and consequently work too early and late. 2. By more system. Th^ farmers should have a time to begin aud stop labor. Ihcy shinild put more mind and machinery into their w'ork. They should theorize as well as prat ticft, and let both go together, i'arm-ing is healthy, moral and respectable; in the long run it may *je made profitable. The farmers sliould keep good stock and out of debt. The farm is the best place to begin and end life, aud hence so many in the cities and professional life covet a rural home. ^ I»y taking care of health. I'armevs have a'heiilthy variety of exercise, but too oiten ni'glect cleanliness, omit l)athing, eat irregularly and hurriedly, sleep iu ill ventilated apartments and expose themselves to cold. JSine tenths of tbe human diseases arise iVo-n c o l d s or intemperanc**. Frequent bathing is profitable, eo is fresh air, deliberation at the dinner table and rest after a meal. . 4. By a d o rn in g th e h n n e . ^ o th ln g is lost liy a p le a s a n t hoiiie. Books, p a p e r s , p ic tu r e s , m u sic a n d r e a d in g sh o u ld a ll b e b n iu g h t to b e a r u p o n th e in -d o o r fam ily e n te r ta inm e n t; a n d n e a tn e s s , comfort, o rd e r, sh ru b b e ry , flowers a n d f ru its sh o u ld h a r - a il w rh o u t. Ilonv" sh o u ld b e a b a jip y ;ind h-'iy th a t c h ild re n will l" \e it. women d»*ligbt, in it, maiibood . l a v e it. iiiui old a g e enjoy ii. T h e re W ;u id !„. itesiMlion oi tdd h o ia e ^ ie au s it p a in s w rn ta k e n f > m a k e th em a g re e a b le , Kase, O! ii.'ai;!: an d b e a u ty a r e eompatib'.e witii ta n .I lii'e, ;in'i w e re u n ia in e d to g " wittj I t . —A man—a Fat.iier, ha> a passi.tn ('or gamiiig. and loses at card.' all his nioney, a 0.1 iii< children sutler for the ne.^essari^' of iile. .Vnother Father is given to ins cups, and !ioi only brings jioverty upon his children, i.ut disease and shame. They are in-iio.: entof bis sin>J, and yet tiie.y are su>»ject-e i t>' privation and affliction on account of them ; and thus what God threatens in his law, and what so many object to and denounce the Bible for asserting,—to wit, that the .-iins o f the Fnihcrs are vi<tited upon Ike chU<h-en, we see coming to puss in I>nine Providence, and occurring in daily life. Whether the Bible be true or false, the priu-ciple governs, and the f.iet is patent before our eyes. —An elderly gentlenmn, aocustomeil to ‘•iiidulge,*’ entered the room of u certain inji, where sat a grave friend by the tire. Lifting a puir of green spectacles upon his lorehead, rubbing his inflamed eyes, and calling for hot brandy-and water, he complained that “his eyes were getting weaker and weaker, and that even spectacles didn’t seem to do them any good." “I’ll tell thee, friend,” replied the Quaker, “what I think. If thee was to wear thy spe^Jtacles oeei- thy moiUk for a few up.mths, thy eyts would get round again.” A lady made her husband a present ol a silver drinking cup with an angel at the bott<)m, and when she filled it for him he used to drain it tn the bottom, and she asked him why he drank everv drop. “Because, ducky,'' he said, “I long to see the dear little angel.” Upon which •<he had the angel taken out, and had a devil engraved at the bottom, and he drank it just the same, and she again asked him the reason. ‘Why.' replied he, “because I won’t let the '-Id ‘levil have a drop.” 48f
V o l . 2 . East Hartford, Conn., ^pril 30, 1864. N o . 8 .
For the Elm Leaf.
BY ZF.KE RIPPLE.
The breath ol' Spring was over the laiid.
The genial sun shone bright and clear :
For the brown old wood we started.
To seek th’ first bloom of ih’ youthful year.
The birds trilled oui their joyous yongs;
The swelling buds, the freshening sod.
Gave earnest of the spriiiciiip life
As slightly on our way we trod.
We passed from thedu|
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