I-IASZARIYS GAZETTE. JUNE 27. (sscoico NOTICI.) IIBW WORK, BY THE AUTHOR OF "snr suck.” As it will not be fair to judge of the Clockmeker by one extract alone, we give another, which, as s oeatrset to thefirst, will put our sesdus in better humor with it. new Wu ‘re pans OAILIC. “ W011.” Mil 1. "ladies I was In-ougllten up to home, on my fat) s K and my edu- cation, what little I had of it, I got from the Minister of Slick , jlr. Joshua Hopewell, who was a friend my father‘s, and was one of the best men, I believe, that ever lived. He was all kindness, and all gentleness, and was, at the same time. one of the most learned men in the United States. He took a great fancy to me, and spared no ins with my schooling, and Iowe ever thing Iphave in the world to his instruction. Ididn't mix much with other boys, and, from living mostly with people older than myself, acquired an old-fashioned way thatI have never been able to shake of! yet; all the bo s called me “ Old Slick.’, In course Ididn’t earn much of life that way. Alli knew about the world beyond our house and hisin, was from books, and from hearing him talk, and he convarsed better than any book _ I ever set eyes on. Well, in course I grew u unsophisticated like, and I think I may say was as innocent a young man as ever you see." Oh, how they all laughed at that ! You ever innocent !” said they. “ Come, that's od; we like it; it's capital! Sam Slick an innoccent boy ! Well, that must have been be- fore you were weaned, or talked in joining hand at an rate. How sim lo we are, ain’t we!” and they laughed themselves into a hooping- cough amost. “ Fact Miss Janet,” said 1, “ I assure you” (for she seemed the most tickled at the idea of any of them,) “ I was, indeed. I wen’t for to retend to say, some of it didn’t rub a when it became dry, when I was fishing through the world on my own book ; but, at the time I am speaking of when I was twenty-one next grass, I was ’so guiless, I couldn’t see no harm in any- thin . ’ “ go I should think,” said she; “ it’s so like ou.” ‘-' Well, at that time there was a fever, a most horrid typhus fever, broke outin Slick- ville, brought there lliy some shi wrecked emigrant. here wasa ighland fami ysettled in the town, the year afore, consistin of old Mr. Duncan Chisholm, his wife, and aughter Flora. The old people were carried of b the disease, and Flora was left without frien s or means, and the worst of it was, she could hard- Iy speak a word of intelligible English. Well, Minister took rest pity on her, and spoke to father about ta ing her into his house, as sister lly was just married, and the old lady left without any companion ; and they agreed to take her asone of them, and she was, in return, to help mother all she-could. So, next day she came, and took up her uarters with us. Oh my, Miss Janet, what a esutiful girl she was! She was as tall as you are, Jessie, and had the same delicate little feet and hands.” I threw that in on purpose, for women, in a general way don't like to hear others spoken of too extravagant, particularly if you praise them for anything they pride themselves on, they are satisfied, cause it shows on esti- mate them also at the right valy, too. It took, for she pushed her foot out a little, and rocked it up and down slowly, as if she was rather proud of it " Her hair was a rich auburn, not red (I don't like that at all, for it is like a lucifer match, apt to go oil into a flare spontaniously sometimes,) but a golden color, and lots ofit too, just about as much as she could cleverly manage; eyes like diamonds ; complexion, red and white roses ; and teeth, not quite so regu- lar as yours, Miss, but as white as them ; and lips-—lick !—tbey reminded one of a curl of rich rose-leaves, when the bud first begins to swell and spread out with a sort of peachy bloom on them, ripe, rich, and chock full of kisses.” “Oh, the or ignorant boy!” said Janet, “ you didn’t now nothin , did you .7 " “ Well, I didn’t,” snis , “ I was as innocent as a child; but nobody is so ignorant as not to know a s lendifcrous gal when he sees her," and I ma e a motion of my head to her, as much as to say, “ Put that cap on, for it justs ts ou.” “ My sakes,whata neck she had I not too long and thin, for that looks goosey; nor too short and thick, for that ives a clums appearance to the figure ; but etwixt and tween, and perfection always lies there, just mid way be- tween extremes. But her bust—ohl the like never was seen in Slickville, for the ladies there, in a gtneral way, have no—” “ Well, well,” said Jessie, a little smippish, for praisin’ one ‘gall to another ain’t the short- est way to win eir regard, “ go on with your story of Gaelic.” “ And her waist, Jessie, was the most beauti- ful thing, next to your’n I ever see. It was as round as an apple, and anythin that is round, you know, is arger than it loo s, and I won- dered bow much it would measure. I never see such an innocent up to home and in t ’ I h . h r:'..':.:.°,:'t..'... the wet! knew no more about thewa of that I did. She was a mere child,» ‘was; she was only nineteen years that of old and us knew anything of society One ds I a e t me measure her waist with my arm, and! did, and then she measured mine with her'n and we had a great dispute which wasthe largest, and we tried several times, before we ascertained there was only an inch dilltrence between us. I never was so glad inmy life as when she came to stay with us; she was so good-natured, and so cheerful, and so innocent, it was quite charming. “ Father took a wonderful shindy to her, for even old men can't hel liking beauty. But somehow, Idon't thin mother did; and it appears to me now, in looking back upon it, that she was afraid I should like her too much, I consaited she watched us out of the corner of her glasses, and had her ears open to hear what we said ; but p’raps it was only my vanity, for I don’t know nothin‘ about the working of a woman’s heart even now. I am onl a bachel- or yet, and how in the world shon d I know anything more about any lad than what I knew about poor Floral In t e we 3 of wo- men I am still as innocent as a chi d ; I do believe that the could rsuade me that the moon is nothin’ at an eight-day clock with an illuminated face. Iain’t vain, Iassure you, and never brag of what I don't know, and I must say, 1 don’t even pretend to understand them.” “ Well, I never 1 ” said Jessie. “ Nor I,” said Janet. “ Did you OVGI‘. now! ” said Catherine. “ Oh, dear, how soltyou are, ain’t you! ” “ Always was, ladies” said I, “ and am still as soft as dou h, Father was very kind to her, but he was ol and impatient, and a little hard of hearin , and he couldn't half the time un- derstaud er. One day she came in with a message from neighbor Dearborne, and sais in D‘ e. N * Father--' “ ‘ Colonel, if you please, deer,’ said mother, ‘ he is not your father ;’ and the old lady seemed as if she didn’t half fancy any body calling him that but her own children. helher that is natural or not, Miss Jessie,” said I,“ I don’t know, for how can I tell what women thinks.” it on, of course not,” said Jane, “ you are not wsywise, and so unless; you don't know, of O O B “ Exactly.” Ills I; "but I thought mother spoke kinder cross to her, and it confused the all. H Says Flora, ‘ Colonel Slick, Mr. Desrborne soys—says‘-—‘Well, she couldn’t get the rest out she couldn I find the English. ‘ Mr. Dosrbomo 153:’ 5 332- ' Well, what the devil does he say?’ said father, stampin’ his foot, ‘out of all patience with 5' er. “It frightened Flora, and ed‘ she went out ofthe room.cr_ving like anything. ‘° That girl talks worse and worse,’ said mother. H * \Nell, I wont’t say that,’ says father, a little molified, ‘for she can’! talk at all, so there is no worse about it. am sorry though scared her. I wish somebody would teach her English. " - I will,’ sale I, ‘ father, and she shall teach me Gaelic in return. -‘ ‘ Indeed you shan't,’ sais mother; ' you have got something better to do than lsrning her : and as for Gaelic, I can’t bear it. It's a horrid outlandish language, and of no earthly use what- ever under the blessed sun. It’s \'.0I'le than Indian. “ ‘ Do, Sam,’ said father; ' it’s an act of kind. rises, and she is an orphan, and besides, Gaelic may be ofgreal use to you in life. I like Gaelic myself; we had some brave Jacobite Highland soldiers in our army in the war that did great service, but unfortunately nobody could understand them. And as for orplisns, when I think how many fiitherless children we made for tlie British- “ ‘ You might have been better employed,’ said mother, but he didn't hear her, and went right on. " ‘ I have to kindly feelin’ towards rhem_ she is a beautiful girl that.’ ‘* ‘ If It waru’t for her csrrolty hair and f,-eckled face,’ said mother, looking at me, ‘ she wouldn’t be so awful ngly after all, would she?’ " ‘ Yes, Sam.’ sais father, ‘ teach her English for heaven’s sake; but mind, she must giveyou lessons in Gaelic. Languages is a great thing.’ “ ‘ It's great nonsense,’ said mother, raisin’ her voice. “‘ It’e my orders, said father, holding up his head and standing erect. ‘ It's my orders, mariii, and they must be obeyed :’ and he walked out of the room as still‘ as a ramrod, and as grand as s Turk. " ‘Sam,’ ssis mother, when we was alone ‘let the gel be; the less she talks the more she'll work. Do you understand, my dear? ’ " ‘ That's just my idea, mother,’ gals l_ " ‘Then you won't do no such nonsence, will you, Sammy I ’ “ ‘ Oh no !’ ssis I, ‘I’llju.-t go through the form now and then to please father, but that’s all wh° ‘ll’ lllue wants Gaelic? If all the High: lands of cotlsnd were put into a heap, end then \ eltl lled bv th the wouldn't be half as big 3 sh: White thiamine, would they. msrm? They are just sotllln’ on the map, and high hills, like *5 folks, are plsgny apt to have harrren ‘I ‘ Sam,’ said she a psttin of are on the cheek, ' you have twice semuch sense as yourdstksl lies alter all. You take after me.’ ' “I was so eimple,I didn't know what to do. " Se I said yes to mother and yes to father; for] new I must honor and obey my perolll. I0 I thouglill would please both. I made up my mind Iwouldn’t get books to learn Gaelic ‘or teach English, but do it by talking, and that I wouldn't mind father seein’ me,’ but I'd keep a bright look out for the old lady.’ _ “ Oh dear! how innocent that was, warn’t it I" said they. _ .c wgll,it was,” said I; ‘I didn't know no better then, and Idon’t now ; and what's more. I think I would do the same again, if it was to do over once more.” _ H ‘ l have no doubt you would, ” said Janet. “ ‘ Well, I took every opportunity, when mother was not by to learn words I would touch her hand and say,‘ What is that!” And she would say, Lkuch,’ and her arm, her head, and her cheek, and she would tell me the names, and her eyes, her nose. and her chin, and so on; and then 1 would touch her lips and say, ‘ What's them .7’ And she’d ssy ‘ Bhi'leair.' And then I'd kiss her, and say, 1 Whst’s that!‘ And she’d say, ‘Pog.’ But she ‘was so srtless, and so was I ; we didn't know that's not usual unless people are courtin ’ ; for we hadn't seen anything of the world then. “ Well, I used to go over that lesson every time I got a chance, and soon get it all by heart but that word Peg (kise,) which I never could remember. She said I was very stupid and I must say it over and over again till I rceollected it. Well it was astonishing how quick she picked up English, and what progress I made in Gmlic ; and if it hadn't been for mother, who hated the lan- guage like pyson, I do believe I should ‘soon have mastered it so as to speak it as well as you do. But she took every opportunity she could to keep us apart, and whenever I went into the room where Flora was spinning, or ironing, she would either follow and take a chair, and sit me out, or send me away of an errand, or tell me to go and talk to father, who was all alone in the parlor, and seemed kinder dull I never saw a person take such a dislike to the language as she did ; and she didn't seem to like poor Flora either, for no other reason ssl could see under the light of the livin’ sun, but because she spoke it; for it was impossible not to love her—she was so beautiful, so ertlese, and so innocent. But so it was. " Poor thing! I pitird her. The old people couldn't make out half she said, and mother wouldn’t allow me. who was the only person she could talk to, to have any conversation with her if she could help it. It is a bad thing to distrust young people, it makes them artful at last; and I really believe it had that effect on me to a certain extent. The unfortunate girl often had to set up late ironing, or something another. And if you will believe it now, mother never would let me all up with her to keep her company and to talk to her; but before she went to bed herself, al- ways saw me all‘ to my own room. Well, it’s easy to make people go to bed, but it aintjust quite so easy to make them stay there. So when I used to hear the old lady get fairly into here, for my room was next to father's, though we went by different stairs to them, I used to go down in my stocking feet, and keep her company ; forl pilied her from my heart. And then we would sit in the corner of the lire-place and talk Gnslic halfllie night. And you csn’t think how pleasant it was. You laugh, Miss Janet, but it really was delightful: they were the happiest hours I almost ever spent.” “ Oh, I don't doubt ll," she said, “hf course they were. " If you think so, Miss,” said I, “ p’rsps you would finish the lessons with me this evening, if you have nothing particular to do.” “Thank you, Sir," she said, laughing like anything. “I can speak English sufficient for my purpose, and I agree with ‘your mother, Gaelic lll this country is of no sort of use what- ever; at least I am so unless and unsophisticated as to think so. But go on, Sir." “ Well, mother two or three times came as near as possible calcining me, for she was awful afraid of lights and fires, she said, and couldn’t sleep sound if the coals u'eren’t covered up with ashes, the hearth swept, and the broom put into a tub of water, and she used to get up and pop into the room ver sudden; and though she warn't very light o foot, we used to be too busy repeating words to keep watch as we ought.” “ What an artless couple,” said Janet; " well Ineverl how you can have the face to pretend so, I don't know! Well, you do best all I’’ _“A auspicious psrent,” sale I, " Miss, as I said before. makes an artful child. I never knew what guile was before that. Well, one night ; oh dear, it makes my heart ache to think of it, it was the an we ever spent together. Flora was etarching m-islins, mother had seen me olfto my room, and then went in hers, when down I crept in my_ stockiu’ feet as usual, puts a chair into the chimney corner, and we sat down and repeated 'our lessons. We came to the word Peg (kise,) I always used to forget it; and it’s very odd, for it's the most beautiful one in the lengus We soon lost all caution, and it sounded so loud snd sharp it started mother; and before we knew where we were, we heard her enter the pup, which was next to us. In an instant I en. 05- end behind the entry door, and Flora ives up "Id at work. Just then the old lady came in as .of,_ ly as possible, and stood and surveyed tho ,0“, all round. Icould see her through the crack of tli.ea;l‘p‘tii",,:h.pwI'¢:'tpslly aeemcfidissppslsted s; M, "3 Wbst ndss was that I heard Flora,’ sh. said, speskin' as mild ss if she wsssetilly afraid to wake the eat up. l “ Flore lifted t e centre of the muslin. she was starelring, with one hand, and mekin’ shollow under it in the palm of the other, she held“ close up to the old womsn’e fees, and clapped i,. and it made the very identical sound of the smack she had heard, and the deer child repeated it in quick succession several times. The old lady jumped back the matter of a foot or s more, sh. positively looked sksrsd, as if the old gentlemen would think somebody was s kissin’ of her. " Oh dear, I thought I should have teehesd right out. She seemed utterl confounded, and Flora looked, as she was, the ear critter, so on. less and innocent. It dumbfoundered her com. pletcly, Still she wsrn’t quite satisfied. “ What's this chsirdoing so far in the chimbley corner .7‘ said she. “How glad I was there wsrn’t two there. The fact is, we never used but one, we was quits young. and it was always big enough for us both. “ Flora talked Gaelic as fast as hell, elipt ofl‘ her shoes, sat down on it, put her feet to the firs folded her arms across her bosom, laid her head back and looked so sweet and so winnin’ into mother's face. end said, ‘did ri’u'I Burl,’ (1 have no English) Ind then proceeded in Gaelic. " ‘ If you hadn't sit in that place, yourself, when you was young, Igusss you wouldn't be so awful scared at it, you old goose.’ -‘I thought I never saw her look so Mother was not quite persuaded she was wrong after all. She looked all round agin, as if she was sure I was there, and then came towards the door where I was, so I sloped up-stairs like a shadow on the well, and into bed in no time; but she followed up and came close to me, and hold- in the candle in my face. said : " ' Sam, are you ssleepl” " Well I didn't answer. “ ‘ Sim.‘ said she, ‘ why don't you speak,’ and she shook me. " ‘ Hullo,’ sais I, pretendin’ to wake u , ' what’: the matter! have I overslept myself! is it time to get up 7’ and I put out my arm to rub my eyes, and lo and behold I exposed my coat sleeve. “ ‘ No Sam, said she, ‘ you couldn't oversleep yourself for you hsvn’t slept at all, you ain't even oudressed.' . “ ‘ Am’: I,’ said I. ‘ are you sure 7’ ‘“ Why look here,’ said she, throwin’ down the clothes and pulliu’ my coat over my head till she nearly strangled ms. “ ‘ Well, I shouldn’t wonder if I hadn't strip- ped,‘ sale I. ‘ When a feller is so peslrilly sleepy as I be, I suppose he is glad to turn in airy way.’ “ She never spoke another word, but Isaw a storm was brewin, and I heard her matter to her- self, ‘ creation! what a spot of work! I'll have no leaching of mother tongue here.’ Next morn- ing she sent me to Boston ofsn errand, end when I returned, two days after, Flora, was gone to live with sister Sally. I have never forgiven my- self for that fully: but really it all came of our being so unless on so innocent. There was no craft in ellllivr of us. She forgot to remove the chair from the chimbley corner, poor simple- minded iloo-_v, and I forgot to keep my coat sleeve covr-red Yes. yes, it all came of our being too innocent; but that's the way, ladies, I learned Gaelic." Immense quantities of provisions had been ur- dissed for the Russians on the coast of Azog.-— The conquests of the Allies would deprive the en- emy of these resources. AN Ol.D STORY wr:i.i. 'roi.n.-A certain man, who had not been particularly fortu- nate in his affairs went to a forei n country in the hope of bettering his con ition, but all his enterpise failed, and in the end he found himself more poor and embarrased than ever. In this emergency he went to consult no old man, who was fumed in his neighbour-hood l'or wisdom and goodness, aml laid before him the unlisp y condition in which he found himself, an the sort of fatality which followed him everywhere. After many questions as to how he had managed his business, and as to his per- sonal habits, the old man at last asked him if he owed nothing to his printer, and if I10 had always paid regularly for the papers for which he had subscribed. The ruined man reflected for a moment, and answered “ Yes I confess I owe for several year! subscription to a paper I formerly received. but I had entirely forgotten so insignificant a debt.” “An insi nificant debt!” 1'0- plied the old man: “ilrnow air, that a man “Where was your Church before Luther!” asked a Roman Catholic of the famous John Wilkes. “ Where was your face before it VII 3 lovely. washed", was the very promptsnd pointed snowfl-