Washington telegraph., 1849-10-31

parsonage, who was putting down the
street. vociferatilg f-i-r-e fire, with all
the voice he had in his body, abruptly
halted wondering that any body could
think of anything but fire. Can you tell
me where Deacon Jones lives"
On Deacon Jones!-f-i-r-e!"
Stepping into the Line Of water buckets
the Kentuckian was very thirsty when
the buckle. came to him and held on to
the bucket to drink. A half distracted
woman rushed down the street crying-
Its cousin Darby's house-it's cousin
Darhy's house.
NO. no. said a neighbor, .Mr. Darby s
house is in another directon, and the
woman was quietly passing home.
AS she came to pass us, the Judge very
distinctly says, i pity Mr. Daeby-really,
l do pity him
The woman's fears were again excited
she rushed on faster than before-'it IS
cousin Dardy's house-it IS cousin OAR
bys house se--until her voice was lost in
the distance. where she probably arrived
and found cousin Dayby's premises safe.
Thus our quandom Judge continued his
pranks to late hour in the night, in a
city where his great reputation was fa-
miliar to, but his person to none. Leav
ing early the next day for home with
rather a suhy leave-taking by the land
lord and inmates nf the hotel. We re-
turned to Louisville. where Judge Long
street resumed his duties and his dignilies
without causing suspicion of the inno-
cent shines he had cut up down at Charles
ton. 1t was several months afterwards
that the fact leaked out very much to the
modification of the ladies, who were
heard to declare that he apas a sweet
funny man. and of the landlord, who ever
afterwards allowed almost any eccentric
tiles in his guests at the crack hotel.
A STORY OF INTEMPERANCE.
Ellen was a lovely girl of fourteen
the eldest daughter ofa once happy family.
When the school hours were over, she
would hasten home and sit with her
needlework by her mother, or tend her
little brother, yet in his cradle, or do
whatever else was required of her so
kindly, SO uncomplainingy, that her pre-
sence in the family was like all angels
visit. When she was about the house
in her pleasant and quiet manner, her
mothers brow OF care would often be
lighted up with Joy and hope. She would
sometimes sit aud fondIy gaze upon her
daughter, after having listened to the
sweet tones of her voice. whilst she re-
lated some little occurrence, some passing
event; and as she looked upon her in all
the oveliness of her young aud unem-
Uttered existence she felt all the affection
of maternal heart, And yet her eye
grew dim with the rising tear as she
more than anticipated the woes which
might in coming years be the portion OF
her beloved child. But only a short
time from that period of whichI am now
speaking change came over the spirit
of the mother, tor change came over
the spirit of the lovely daughter. Ellen
became pensive and languid Her eye
was sunken-her cheek was pale-her
form emaciated and she was langushed
upon her couch, over which her mother
watched by night aud day, till the even
ing to which l refer.
1t was the hour of twilight; the streets
were getting still; all was hushed around
the dwelling Of where lay the vast
ed form of Ellen. She had been raised
up in her bed that she might see the sun
60 down in the west. She waited
grew tired of looking. She had just seen
his rays as they lighted among the dis
tant hills, till she was replaced III more
reposing posture, when the very room
where she lay became The scene OF
strange confusion. From the hoarSe
throat of the drunkard was poured forth
volley of oaths and horrid inprecations
The room was filled with his sepucharal
breath. The care-worll aud broken.
hearted wife was rudely driven from the
side Of the dying Ellen.
The younger children were huddIed
together in one corner of the room, pale
with fear. aud their eyes red with weep
ing. The seuseess, babbing, and noisy
voice of the drunkard still continued
She raised her little skeleton hand aud
beckoned her mother, who stood weeping
on the other side of the room, to come To
her. She came The poor child had
only time to say. "Why don't you ask
pa to be still a0/sile I am dyi,sg?" Those
were the last words of Ellen-but they
were in vain. With the last sigh of her
gentle spirit there went up to Heaven
also the inhuman rawlings of the drunken
father. This story is not fiction not a
story of ina gination, but of real occur
rence.-AdUocate and Guardian.
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Scarcity OF WOMEN in CALIFORNIA