NO. 57 NORTHAMPTON STREET, EASTON, PA.
Best Wines and Finest Brands of Cigars on hand.
Weddings and Parties supplied with Oysters, Ice Cream, &c.
BOOTS AND SHOES
175 Northampton St., ab. 4th, or Branch Store, Porter's Block Cor. S. 3d St. and Centre Square, Easton, Pa.
GENTS' FINE SHOES A SPECIALTY.
In Seasonable Goods our assortment has received large additions by recent arrivals from Philadelphia. New York and Boston, and comprises Gaiters, Oxford ties, Prince Alberts and French ties in all their most fashionable and desirable grades. Several lines of these goods are the finest in town.
Editors for May.-G. M. LEWIS, E. S. BARRICK, E. N. BARRETT.
From booth to booth the coquette went,
And seemed as if for pleasure sent.
Her black eyes flashed, her curls blew free,
A brighter sight ne'er came to thee.
Her bosom swelled quite unconfined,
And gayer dress was never lined
With form more plump and freer shown,
More graceful limbs were never known;
Her blood was young: she trod on air,—
By Eugenie's side to walk she'd dare.
A queen also, well served was she,
As on she passed with repartee.
The air was mild, the hot rays flowed,
And o'er her head a sun-shade glowed.
And gorgeous red, and blue, and white,
It twisted time to music light
As 'fore a booth her steps went flinging
To fiddler's music,-bagpipe's ringing.
The fiddler stops; her gay laugh rings;
She poises light, and careless sings: 66 The birds in the trees
Play in the breeze,
The lambs on the hill
Dance by the rill.
We, only, sadly,
Hail not gladly,
Love, wine, and song
To cheer us along.
So the world goes,
So life flows;
Whither we're traveling
Nobody knows.
Sadness?-a notion !
Time?'tis motion.
But sip we gaily,
Draining life's potion ;
So let's be going,
Love's joys knowing,*
Cares away throwing,
All, and forever."
The parasol began to twist;
The piper played; the gallant kissed,
As sprang their steps to music's mazes,
And trod they careless down the daisies.
Their feet are light, their pulses strong,
As through the fair they move along.
The wren so gay now begins a fretting,
And out of sight she goes coquetting.
A dozen years the wren has seen,
And bitter years they were, I ween,
Since to this green she took her way
To dance away the live-long day.
And now she knows no village fair,
Her face is old, and thin her hair;
A stranger finds her binding grain;
And murmuring low a mournful strain.
No whipporwill did ever chaunt
More doleful strains in dreary haunt.
She hears the bagpipe's music shrill,.
As echoing sounds it o'er the hill;
She knows the village swains and lasses
Are prinking fine before their glasses,
Since dropped have they for now their labor
To dance the day to pipe and tabor.
With weary heart and listless blow
Her sickle lays the ripe wheat low.
With tired feet her scrawny form
Sinks beneath the sunshine warm.
The stranger notes the music's play,
And gives his maid a holiday:
"These five francs now, my well-worn lass,
Will buy this time in rest to pass."
She looks him o'er,-then seizes it,
Her old face grins, and flies her wit;
The madonna beauty, seen in sadness,
Is gone, and wrinkles walk in gladness.
The parasol commenced to twist,
As gay to him her hand she kissed.
And wriggling, giggling, on she goes,
This Roitelet whom nobody knows.
HENRY DARWIN ROGERS AND GEOLOGY.
BY M. N. APPLEGETT, A. B., A. M.
There is another theory to explain some phenomena in the neigh.. borhood of magnetic mines, which I will call the galvanic electrotype process in nature, which I will explain by allusion to the following incident: At a furnace in New Jersey a trough of chestnut wood was exposed to great heat, near, or touching, or imbedded in the molten iron or slag. I cannot explain just how, and instead of burning to ashes as wood generally does when exposed to great heat (possibly it may have become thoroughly charred first by something
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