a a se E= ~ ——-—— eee annette estes ne : Valuable Business Stand For Sale, - hls be Sold by AUCTION, on MUNTIAY, the tat: SEPTEMBER NeXt, on the premires, that valuable Business Stand, part of the pecperty of the late James Co gs, in accordance with his lust N ill and Testament. It is situated on the Corner of Prince and Kent Streets, inelading a DWELLING HOUSE, now eceupied b rs Cooley aes Tavern. , Also, that commodious TWO STOREY BUILD ING, fronting on Kent street, lately occupied by Mr Thomas Green as a Furniture Store, comprising front Shop, plastered and finished ; and & spacious back Store Room, aud Cellar under the whole stone walled; ucd a large Room floored over the whole m the second storey The Land is bounded as follows, viz : thirty-one it) fronting on Prince-street, and eighty-four (84) feet on Kout-street, thence south from RKent-street ‘ t and one-balf feet, thence East to P; street aati! thirty one forty eg it meets the line fronting on Prince street, teet from the corner on to the line of the house occupied by Mrs. Conly, being part of Town Lot No Fighty-nine in the 3d hundred of Town Lots in Charlottetown Part of the purchase money May remain secured on the premises for a term of three years. For further particulars apply to GEORGE COLES, Executor. Charlottetown, 3th June, (Sa2. isl -_—— I’or Sa le, VESSEL of about 130 Tons, N.M., and 200 a... of good model and superior work tnanship; building under inspection . to clase 3 years; will be ready for delivery early in October; and will be sold cheap Apyly in Charlottetown to Wituias McGiut, Eaqr., or to the subscribers A. & W. McLEAN. Belfast, 3iet July, 1862 im ‘ Warblington” for Sale. vu AT desirable property, belonging to James Witsoe, Eaq., consisting of 36 acres of LAND. ina bigh state of cultivation, a very con- venient DWELLING HOUSE and offices, 4 GARDEN, sud an extensive and valuable OR- CHARD. This Property has a water front, and is distant from the City only a few minutes walk. Asa n- sleman's residence, Warblington is unrivalled by any property tu the Island. Apply to Wu. DODD. Auctioneer, or to the subscriber, THOMAS PETHICK. Charlottetown, April 28, 1862. FOR IMMEDIATE SALE, HAT DESIRABLE WATER LOT, in GEORGETOWN, containing half an! scre of LAND. with usual privileges, known | a¢ No. 1l.or Potsr Lor. Terms Cash or short time on security. Apply to the Hon. Josepz ilexsusy. Unease December 2; 1861. tf Valuable Property for | Sale. ue Subscriber, intending to make alter- ations in his business, offers FOR SALE his well known and valuable BUSINESS STAND and Property at Sux“ensing, Prince Edward Island. This property is situate one hundred feet from the Queen's Wharf, (where the Mail Steamer comes four times in euch week during the time the naviga tion ia open), fronting on the West side of the street leading thereto, and also fronting on Water Street, forming au angle of the two streets. upon which is bailt a new, handsome and substantial [wo Storey NOUSE and STOKE, 40 feet by 30 feet. The Store is ueutly and most conveniently fitted ap for ee ae | LITERATURE. | Disease, and pain, and death, those stern marauders, rince- | } | No fear of parting, no dread of dying A Weekly Hournal o SSNS = - ~ neat inate anee oor Se ener “This is true Liberty, when Freeborn Men, having to ady Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Monday, August 25, 1862, f Lolitics, Literature, vind ise the Public, may speak free.”---Euripides, Mews. jhinges. I don’t blame them. I a'ways make | & point now of studying each man’s{character, and trusting him as much as I possibly can. THE CITY OF THE LIVING. I find it raises them in their owe estimation | =e to be thought well of by us, and I am. sel- | We necend hes to-day, dom deceived. But what's our latest rule : ' D : | So long ago expired its grief and glory— npr In a long vanished age, whose varied story There flourished, fur away, ‘The officer of the watch shall keep his P watch on the forecastle, going aft occasion- Ing broad realm, whose beanty passed a)! measure, | ally to look at the compass.’ (i quoted this | A city fair and wide, | glibly from our regulation book.) ‘Ah! so it is!’ he replied, laughing. — * How quickly we are getting hedged in by rules and injunctions! Soon, we shall not | Within the dwellers lived in peace and pleasure, And never any died, i Which mar our world’s fair face, Never encroached upon the pleasant borders a bad one, especially now-a-days, when one Of that bright dwelling place. may have a few months’ meditation rusticat- ing in a jail, or en order from government Could ever ennet these. to quit the sea, and turn our hand to some No mourning fer the lost, no anguished crying other business, should a sleepy ship ray ae Made any face less fair. =, , ~ . ‘Why, Fred! you're quite a philosopher,’ [ said. ‘What has happened since those rollicking days and nights in the old town ? You don’t like to have them brought up again.’ ‘You are right; I don’t like the memory of our old days brought up, and if you are not longing for your bunk, and will keep me company for a little, L'il let you know why. It won't be a very bad mode to keep a watch, I think, provided we keep our aenses alive, It's a fine night, and but little fear of ships hereaboyts.’ Pleased with this proposal, and at having | got him in so chatty a mood, [ willingly fol- lowed him forward. Without the city’s walls death reigned as ever, And graves rose side by side— Within the dwellers laughed at bis endeavor, And never any died, O, happiest of all earth's favored places! O, blisa, to dwell therein — To live in the sweet light of loving faces, And fear no graves between ! To feel no death damp, gathering cold and colder, Disputing life's warm truth, To live on, never lonelier or older, Radiant in death less youth! And hurrying from the world’s remotest quarters, A tide of pilgrims flowed Across broad plains and over mighty waters, he cried. To find that blessed abode. Where never death should come between, and sever Them from their loved apart— Where they might work, and will, and live forever, Still holding heart to beart. selves, Fred and I settled pear the eapstan. old times?” he began. and Ij tell you how. And so they lived, in happiness and pleasure, And grew in power and pride, And never any died, | have crossed my path, which are more grate- | ful sources of reflection. You remember when we parted. I went second mate in the old ship, but only for one | voyage. On our return, [ transferred my | services to Old Martin, as he was called by | Yet listen, hapless soul whom angela pity, every one who knew him at home or abroad, | Craving a boon like this— a8 hia mate inthe Buda. Whata good man | Mark how the dwellers in the wondrous city [found him! Nevera better, He had been | Grew weary of this bliss. very unfortunate ; the loss of two ships. and | with them nearly all kis own hard-won sav- The pain of life's long thrall, ings of a lifetime, on ee Se ee Forsook their pleasant places, and came stealing | and he vee chastene eee oe oe Outside the city wall. | his adversities, from the biystering martinet, ; | that few could sail two voyages with him, | | into a quiet, kindly old man, carrying far to | | many years for a sea-life, but with a smile, | And many years rolled on and saw them striving With unabated breath, And other years sti!] found them living, And gave no hope of death. Ore and another, who had been concealing Craving, with wish that knew no more denying, So long bad it heen crossed, The blessed possibility of dying— ; # general Dav Goova and Grocery Brsinxss. and even a joke ready, when his former ways | and successes were mentioned. The treasure they bad lost. The House is well finished, and suitable for a res- pectable family, containing several Roome and Bed | ronns. There is also a tirat rate Cellar under the | whole building seven feet deep, in one angle of | which is a splendid spring of Water. In the rear | cf the building is « convenient WaRenovuse, new, | aad in good repair. Any person wishing to carry ona general business, there i# no place in I’. RK. Island more desirable than | the rapidi¥ growing town of Summerside. and the poritien of the above preperty being the best and most central in the place, it offers rare indacements to any perecn wishing to invest capital. For particulars please apply on the premises to the owner MARTIN O'HALLORAN. Daily the current of rest-seeking mortals You know what a terrible mess 5 sailing | Swelled to 0 beeader tide ship is generally in at leaving dock, and | what a time the poor mate has. Why ! our! life here, in these sailing kettles, is princely} ito it. What with the crimp-enslaved crew | | coming on board drunken and unfit for work; provisions and scraps of the cargo arriving | at the very last mcment, the mind filled | | with fears of gear not having been bent | | properly, of chains not being rightly shack. | lled ; with some things perhaps tbat are re- | Till none were left within the city’s portals, And graves grew green outside. Would it be worth the having or the giving, The boon of endless breath ? Ah, for the weariness that comes of living! There is no cure but death ! Ours were indeed a fate deserving pity, Were that sweet rest denied ; ' blushing, and awkward in every limb, I could ‘startling dawn, require to work at all: but this last ig not ‘Keep a bright look out there, my lads,’ | bead much in answering them, and seemed ‘ Ay, ay, sir!” the men eent us back, and, | Fung mistress’ health, eo taking a good glance around the horizon eur. | 88d willing to dilate on Miss HMay’s goodness ‘You think I'm an altered man since the | angel,’ as she called her, was more fitted for | 4 away in my inner being. She would be I am, thank God!) heaven thau earth ; to all of which I was a It's a very short and | Curious listener, : . simple yarn. Don’t think I have forgotten | aking me think, which T was never given those days. By no means. I think of them | !0 much, and seldom indulged io, on any And did great deeds, and laid Up stores of treasure, | sometimes, but not with pleasure; other lines | other subject but skip’s duties, ‘\ tions with Miss Hay, which I iptended she Curtain just withdrawn enough to show the , Should get the full ——— ns ene New Series.---No, 33, | not find a word to utter, could not even mus- ‘light to darkness, but a growing conviction | fer courage, although I wished to ask her if! must have been gradually laying hold of me, | L could lead her to a seat | 1 myself hardly thought then that I could ferent, and more beautiful than I had ima- | be 80 taken a-back. I went away forward | gined, and that my past had been a sad mis- bes my work again, with a strange feeling of | t: i | shame wad deleat, “Tat,” I said, * what’s | granted me to redeem,if I had only strength | Wrong with me, that a pretty girl should | to manage it. I even thought at one time ; unnerve me so, and and cause me to suffer | it would be better to leave off a sea-life to | this uneasiness 7 They're all alike, these escape Srom the temptations surrounding it ; women, all alike. I must conquer this, and| but that was a foolish thought I soon deei- i have a chat with her,” But no, I could |not rid myself of ber image; her eyes ever | her which I could not understand, aud yet; What a fairy land I created of the re- I felt certain“that with one glance she had | mainder of our voyage! With her health 'read me through, and knew me, caréless, | increasing day by day, T pictured her de. | ; unthinking, and unsteady as I was. It did | light and surprise on passing into the Hast- | not strike me then, but I know now What ern world. How new life would come to gave me such sensations. My pride was) ber in those wari, sunny, glowing days, roused, and I tried to get back some of my | when we should be going through the Straits, | early thoughts and feelings before they had/ the clear blue sky above so mingling with | become blurred by half-a-dozen years of a|the clear blue sea below, dotted with the sailor’s lite, | lovely white beached, grecn-topt islands, that I had no opportunity of seeing her again | #t @ first glance it secms all a dream! How for some time, as she remained nearly al- |! would startle and please her when the cu- ways in the after cabin, where I never pene- | Tious Strait b-ats, with heaps of pine-apples, trated. Old Martin sometimes messed with | T@Nges, mangos, and bunches of golden me, and sometimes with her, and all I could | Plantation, with their netied baskets of fowls arn from bim was that Miss Hay was an | 9nd fresh eggs, and chattering monkeys and parrots, would come alongside some quiet unconquerable liking to get this voyage with | ™orbing, and she would wake up and gaze him. I found myself putting numerous ques. | With wondering eyes on anew world! How |tions to old Nurse (how we use that word | #he would smile at the jargon of the natives, |‘old’ on board ship, for any one we think of| ¥ith their black skins and guady head-gear ! kindly disposition ?) but Ursula shook her | And the homeward pesvage —- what a ples- sant trip I made of it, when, a stuy in port having recruited her health, she would be more able to enjoy her ship-board life ! Many more pleasant evenings we had to- gether, which are among the treasures stow- | Orphan niece, and had taken a Strong and doubtful as to the voyage renewing her Soe was ever ready |and gentleness, and to tell bow her ‘sweet lying oa the skylight perhaps, propped up with pillows, or, if the ship rolledon a sofa- cushion on the deck — old Ursula watching ber like a little child, and { treasuring up each word and laying it by ia my heart, al- ou remember how our last skipper used | though st this moment they seem to flit and to urge on us, that before coming on deck | float shadowly and dimly over the sea of to relieve it, we should get ready a subject | memory—a sad undertone in all T could not to employ our thoughts on, if not engaged fathom then, but which gave them a double in actual duties. How, to pass time, we | Pe2uty and interest when I found out its were to imagine @ ship in all manner of pe- | &2¥e, : rilous and untoward circumstances, and find When we eommenced running down our out what we would be likely to do if ever casting to the southward we had got as far so placed? How, if nothing else offered to | 98 40° latitude, but fiuding the weather ceep the old gentleman from our minds (an rough and boisterous,made our Way up again idle head being the devil's workshop,) we | '0 37°, expecting to find it better ; but even Were to repeat and transpose the multiplica- | there we had a bad time of it, and Miss Hay tion table, or get by heart the most useful | ¥22 altogether confined to her cabin. The rules from Norie? | old man had requested me to go down and I had ow found a more fascinating sub-| sit with them. For awhile [ delayed, but at ject, and begay to puss my watches buildin |!ast mustered courage to do so. On these air-eattles, and ho'ding imaginary conversa. | Visits | would find her on the sofa-bed, the findiag it interesting and | : : illow and her small white face relieved b in fine weather, it — ae eee ars of dark hair, talking to old Martin pear more on deck. jabont life and death, the sea and the stars, And that glorious time came at last !/20d the great God who made all. I would when the night was only a softened conti- | bave given my rude and tempestuous health nuance of the day, and for the whole days|t® have taken away the other world tone we had but to tauten a tack or sheet, while | from her —— and look. a the Buda, no clipper, seemed to put her best | _* What's that ?--two bells? Nothing in foot forward, and enjoy the steadiness of the | Sight forward there o : weather as much as ourselves did. an Nothing, sir,’ replied tho men, stopping When she ventured on deck, [ would sum- |! their to-gnd-fro walk, and gazing steadily mon up all my boldness to ask her ‘if she | #head. no sudden emerging from | You smile—well | that life and this world were altogether dif- | ded, and saw clearly that the sea offered as | UP 00 one tack, than everything would be many Opportunities of doing work nobly as/ aback, and she would be grinding on her haunted me. There was something about | the land. |Keel. Before I could get the topsails reefed ‘I do,’ said I, ‘remember it weil ; every | plete, I then went in and asked if I could |maa and boy knew fear that night, if never | be of any use. *No, my lad, no,’ the old | before ; but go on describing your squall.” | man replied; ‘Urey and ['il all— I will, as near as I can, he went on. It | 'tis’nt for « young lad like you to handle jcame slowly towards us with a sough and/death. You'll read the service over her-— | moaning, such as you hear when, sitting in-, about one, I think ; and see the men are |doors at home, all ears listen as if to s su- tidy. You need net work them much to. pernatural voice outside. The squall struck day.’ (4s at eleven, and from thence till four hours} Left to my own reflections. and with the afterwards we had a perfect battle with | terrible silence ail about me,I scarcely think |Wind and rain. The wind veered and shift. | I thould have been startled had the sound ied, and no sooner had we the yards braced | of that trumpet which To angeli i Shall raise the cael en hs atars,"* Saddenly burst on us from t ! . she would sometimes be dashing through the | head, a stopped our — = water, and like a mad dog scattering foam |ocean through life, As it was, my mind from her on every side. But you know the | seemed to become enlarged, snd ao awful kind of night, and the work it brings.’ sense of our own littleness stole over me, ‘Go on,’ I said, interrupting him, ‘goon ;|I thought of the strange fancy which had [ realize it better when you describe mi-|led her to chose the ocean for a resting nutely.’ —if that could be se called, Where there Well, then! in a moment, he continued, | was no rest; wondered if the coffin would it would lull, and she would stagger up- | reach the bottom; fancied the strange seg rightly, and shiver like ahorse in battle, the | things staring at it in its descent — of itg sails flapping aud slav¢ ng, the topsail sheets being borne hither and thither, to and feo, surging in the yard-arms with a loud snap, | in its never-resting progress to decay, until the lightning playing between the masts,and | the form once 80 shapely and full] o beauty cracking like a coach-whip sbout our ears, becoming part of the great sea itself, its dig. while from the black masses rolling over our | Severed particles would be borne round and mastheads, peal after peal of thunder grum- | round the world by its ever-throbbing pul- bled and burst, as if to annihilate a doomed | sations; and starting from my reveric, I ship. felt as if my brain wandered. About three in the morning we were ina Getting the prayer-book, I looked over dead lull; the squall had passed over, and | the portion I should have to read, and tried was Moving away from us; but it had left | vainly to think of the myste i an unearthly stillness and silence behind it, | the ‘changing of our vile body,’ around us, and in the air, a close pent-up Conscious of some new and strange know. feeling as of suffceation, that even now I |ledge stirring in my mind, seem to feel, Reoiling uneasily from side to} After taking the sun at noon, I ordered side, now and then a mass of water wonld | one of the boys whenever he saw me strike us on the bow or quarter, or any- from the cabin to commenge tolling the bell. where, with the dull, hollow sound of a| It was a sad task for the poor little fellow, wooden hammer, subsiding again with a{and he would willingly have handed it over splash, as if breaking into a thousand frag. to some other body; for many a time, [ ments; fagged and worn out, the crew hud. | dare say, had § word or smile from her who died under the forecastle, and a chillness| was gone made hig little heart lighter, and came over me, not from any wet clothes— | his dul! rea-life cheerier. On ing into the they were warm to the touch — but as if a (cabin, I found the captain and ( Old Mertia foreboding or foreshadowing of some disas- placing her coffin on the table, and scarcely ter. It was very dark. { held on to the|conseious of the feelings whieh prompted tmizen topmast backstay, and tried to see the me, motioned to the carpenter to hold on a helmsman, but coulda’t. Thinking «can [| little, Working up the Iatitude and longi» go down and see how they are? and wring. | tude, I wrote them on a piece of paper, aad ing the wet out of my coatsleeves, I only | put underneath in a firm hand — shrank and felt cold, suddenly cold, when a MARY HAY voice—TI turned not to s:e whose—said : ’ ‘You may take in everything, sir; the J payee wind went away with her; we shall have a wy 1, 1086, quiet day, Mr. Trewceke, to bury Mary.’ F. Trewesaa, Was it all a dream,old fellow,alla dream ? And tacked it on the inside of the and, leaning his head on the capstan, heard Old Martin then whispered, * Let the crew him struggling to repress his sobbing. j tke: it’ Are you tired, or shall I go on? he said. Nitsa ~ ove kat Lin abe a Polly.’ looking up after a long pause. * Not tired,’ I said, + " did so sentianiin ct kind of siete _ The men and boys, who wore all clustered ; or silent and sorrowful at the front of the poop, Tiow some days above others, with al) came in One by one, stole s gianee with their minutest events, and even our persona! | tearful eyes on the sweet face — as some- feelings at the moment of their Oceurrence, | times happens, far more beautiful ie death — fix themselves on the mind, unconsciously | and then the carpenter shat all up from our sight. ew there were who looked on then, exercising an influence on our inner life, and through it partly oyr outer one! Called up | cyon ‘so briefly, but took away a thought to last a life-time. At a wave of the band suddenly, in some out-of-the-way place, by | a slight coincidence of nature perhaps, if | trom ‘Old Martin, we bore her to the plat. nothing else, the whole of their incidents and form, spread the flag over the coffin, and their results coming vividly back, the good placed two seats near it for him and the returning with its good, the evil with its nurse. ~ 7 | Summernde, P. E. [ , July 14, 1862. bi FOR SALE. A few, methinks, would care te find the city Where never any died! ee ee ees | Were better?" Hesitatingly, and looking) _ Two bolls !—continued Fred, absent] y.— evil, that retaining its sway mostly which You know our beautiful servi | qaired Just starting aero 8 mind — ‘straight into mine with her large black eyes, Yes! it was two bells in my first watch one| has been mostly cherished in the interval. dead—how it awes er wunnaraee | too late ; but little time has a mate to take she weuld reply, ‘I shall be beiter, Mr. | night, when Ursula, tapping me on the | This beautiful night, and your meution of when read in private: but how inant a | note of anything save his own duties; and}: | shoulder, said—* If you can come into the Procyon, recalled all that memorable Yop | on ute Seen rn d it alond, and sateen | ; se i 1 at bend ead Bet ant | Trewecke:’ hore . ors FTE lcaschold interest in fifty-two acres | $0 we wereround Holyhead, and fairly stand- | When ? I always felt inclined to ask— | Cabin. do, Mp. Treweeke.” On going into age, and I feel relief at having told you, | ay cecasion! When I began it even the the afier one, old Martin was saying—' You what, till now, bas been all my own. Why | oid tars looked grim und moved uneasiiy, of land, situate on St. Peter's Poad, ten miles ing See ik Glidieel dies 4-had teas on know, Mary, you would come to sea, and it’s did I merit sych a Jasting gift! that the|< 04 ae nal meried begin G and the growing crop thereon. The above will be : ‘commonplaces about the voyage and the agste Come the premises x good dwelling frame house, 32 ~ 2 * Strike it, Quartermaster, and call Mr. | woe having been told by the captain of her What was about her that I should have ‘Oh, no!’ she said—* far grander !. Oh! heart, and color all my future with a hope- quietly from the group of the stanciers-by ’ The parehaser may expect liberal terms. All midnight, and a lovely night it was; clear,! Itturned out to be a young relation of | where in every direction hill-topa caught teeta Tae sdnsetnacathek tras cee telling|* sighs menial ia ak ee ee from ‘ porcemnanere, aubieet to the yeasty was of selbst ieee | her tone seeming to lead me to do 80; but ene siitliag per acre for 49 years.one-ninth | JOOK about me, } J Pal hate teokesneectadien is & view of the premises A MIDDLE-WATCH CONFESSION, Ns en denpiten ¥ thon hened of eck hav. | 2 could only hang back and mutter some dull and d Se ae, i i t : ‘car ere en a very Gull and dreary, and not as yo tere companionship of a young girl for a few |, that portion, ‘we therefore commit her anid either with of without the crop. There ison! «+ Fight bells, sir, | !ng a lady on board, naturally wondered at | weather. pected. short months, should sink so deeply in ™Y!body to the deep,’ a dosen hands stole feet, together with barn and stable buildings lately i ? a ’ Tas | wonelid Treweeke. ; a aaa - of my noticing any preparation | beer so awed and awkward in her presence? / far grander! All my life I have been ful radiance, making me strong for work, and the inner end of the plank being lifted, information ean te wl on epplicatian to the owaer| .O% being struck, the beli told that it Was | made for her. | She was younger than I, and yet L felt a su- | dreaming of the sea, even when far inland. and braced for trouble, firm for success, and the coffin slid down into the blue deep. mado on the premises. , sia : 3 : ied by | Periority of soul in her when she spoke, and t eve Mead, been PY: [starry sky o'er head, and a calm, gray,| the old man’s, and she was wr ewenn” “21 wae pease of 5 dilkdeace aad respect in my-| the clouds on their wanderings ; where little | you all this, I seo angelic wings and hear (From MacMillon’s } ‘agazine.) Ci ena: A SA Teu Mile Honse, St. Peter's Koad, Lot 35, tf J ily 2S, 1862. FOR SALE, VY ALUABLE FREEHOLD FARM, in Brackley Point, containing about 90 acres of Lund, 70 clear and in a hizh state of cultivation, the remainder covered with a fine growth of longers. There is an abundance of Salt Mad and Sea Manure on the property, with a good Cottage, 30 x 26 feet, and a Kitchen attached, [2 x 10 feet, well finished, and a good chain Pump at the door, anda good 4 feat tong, with or without the Crop. or a aum- tier * residence it is second to none in the country. Trums—One half the purchase money down ; the remainder in twelve months. Application to be ‘ 7) subscriber, on the premises. — ae JOSEPH MACKINNON, Jane Léch. 1862. jm PROSE DEALS and DEAL END3, > PINE BOARDS, Pine Palings Cedar Shingles, ‘ashe nd D ] Edging for Sale aa en) Edin » ne JAMES PURDIE. Charlottetown, Aug. 12, 1862. NOTICE. HE Subseriber intends to make some alteration in hia mercantile business this fall, | requesis all persons indebted to him by Book Ac. | count or Notes of Hand, to settle their respective | ane@ its on or before the 10th NUVEMBER, other. wise legal proceedings will be taken for collection, | Without any distinctieg J. WIGHTMAN. St. Andrew's Point, August 7, 1862. NOTICE! IE subseriber hereby gives notice to and cautions all persons against buying or dealing | in a three months promissory note of the value of | L173 stg., due on or wbout the 25th Jaly last past, | it seemed as if he had gained some settled sleeping sea around. We were-half way a nurse. We were some days out before 1 | over the Atlantic, and our ship’s ponderous | had an Opportunity of seeing her. Qur| engine revolving carelessly, with a monoto-| after cabin weat right across the stern, and | nous sound and untiring power, the paddles | was large, commodious, and ricely fitted up, | sending a long line of gleaming water astern, | aud entering it immediately on coming + while a streamer of black smoke, unrolling | board, she had not yet quitted it, but I leara- itself from the funel, broadened gradually, ; till it formed a thick murky cloud-island on got into the way of calling her, from her the eastern horizon bebind us. name of Ursula—that Miss Hay was a niece Pacing up aud down the white decks, from | of Capt. Martin, that she had been long in the helmsman to the look outs, 1 mused on | delicate health, and that only a day or two # sailor’s life, and on the singular chance before sailing he had consented to take her which bad brought my old chum and ship-| with him, although she had been for some mate, Fred Treweeke, and myself together | time looking forward to, aud prepared for, again, after so many years’ knocking about |a voyage. ; ih in different directions. We were getting the ship into nice order, We had parted with no hope or expecta-| and settling down into the daily routine of tion of further companionship in a shipboard} a sealife, and I was rather proud of the life, and yet here we were, relieviog each | whiteness and tidiness of our poop-deck | other this night, as officers of the same (flattering myself she would admire it, as, | steamer ! somehow or other, I began to find her in most Then, what a happy-go-lucky mortal he of my thoughts, having, as you know, had wae, with a wild and unchecked love of| rather a leaning towards the fair sex) when pleasure ; no relation in the world to care| one beautiful, warm-breezy day in the trades, for, full of fun and practical jokes.— Now, | and while busy setting up the jib guys for- | I bad found him in every respect changed. | ward, one of the tacs said ~* The young | htful,bard- working, and steady; | lady’s up, sir!” cee ' : 1 looked aft, and at the breek of the poop convictions that gave him self-reliance and let me picture her with my mind’s eye, as self-respect, and one thing was particularly | then [ saw her, in a common black merino noticeable ia him—a continual discourage- | gown, simple and free of ali outward orna- ment of the silly banter and light talk among | ment, high up on her throat, smail enough, [ the rest of our mess. Many new incidents thought, for my big hand to clasp round, in his career I had already Jearnt from him, , which a little slip of white wound in the | but I felt certain there was something he-had shape of a collar, with a black snake-brooch not told me of ; something which in a pe- | coiled in the ventre—stood a young girl, of culiar mood of mind he would reveal, as we | what age I could scarcely guess, her figure | ed from the nurse—* Ursy,’ as the tars coon drawn by Thomas H{. Pitt, at Hamilton, Bermada, fo ainaae of Edward Saville, and endorsed by said Edward Saville and W. B. Dean, subseriber being the only person lawfally entitled to the suid note, | Any person finding suid note —— ia ce | ving i f Messrs. W. W. Lore o. | leaving it ut the office tans a Charlottetown, P. E. Island, t RW&lIsl Im 4th August, 1862. Flour! Flour! O arrive. per Schooner H ee NE RK, 150 bt is. Supertine xtra viotk °° “ HYSDMAN. August 3, 1862. PORT and SHERRY. ye E undersigned having received oo . Jand a consignment of a small parcel o reaily stporior PORT and SHERRY, which he is desir .us to clear off at once, hereby — the same yment. 0 very low terms for PUERED PHILLIPS. Charlottetown, August 18, 1362. 2w New York! New York! Now Landing, ex ‘‘ HELENA,” from New York--- BBLS. EXTRA OHLO FLOUR, 100 Buckeye Mills, 156 bbis. Choic Extra and Superfiae Floar, which we wil! sell very low. had always, throughout our apprenticeship, in spite of the black by which it was clothed | been great chums; and I had longed for an i i ‘ h iry-like, and yet her pale delicate face so| ‘opportunity to have a quiet chat, and hear airy . : Krom wide | on this little globe; while no fciend at home ‘old man and Ursula were constantly with | what had happened to cause such an alter- full of thought and expression. ation aud improvement. Quick reliefs, as a rule, he always gave, talk about the watches, I transferred the| shyly out, and held back bunches of dark night order book to him, remarking that [| hair, while with large, lustrous, speaking-like bad taken an observation of * Procyon,’ and | eyes she looked wondering! y out over the blue tbat he would fiod the latitude on the log-| dancing sea, its bubbles of foam as they leapt slate. to the sky, aud sparkled and vanished, seem- ‘ Indeed !’ he muttered, ‘by Procyon,’ ing to be reflected in them. Such eyes !— adding aloud, after a while, “ a lovely night !/ I fancy now that I can reach beyond their This is a middle watch for reflection! What omer ~ see the heaven that lay r eep hidden in them. ; rates: TF cnitiel: ‘a trustwor- t fad [ can hardly describe her properly thy old fellow. He’s been a long time in the to you; I ama bad hand at tallying women's service. I'm afraid, though, some quiet gesr, but thank heaven! it is oot her out- evening he'll ‘spoil the beauty,’ as be calls) ward form and semblance I love to recall, it, of our new tell-tale compass, for he hates but the few words of truth and beauty | it from the bottom of bis heart; its machinery heard from her lips, that have been to me, tab essed spy.’’ an ever increasing source of pleasure. * Yes,’ said Fred, * those old fellows like! Of course I went aft immediately, when to have full faith reposed in them, or they she smiled and spoke my name: but what J. & T. MORRIS, August 11,1862. are apt to become rusty and crack on their came over mo I do not know. Stammering, was so light and graceful, so youthful and | intelligences than ours! fect puzzle to him, and he terms it throughout my life since, an unceasing, ay, | self as if I were listening to one whose years | met the eye save clumps and rows of dark claimed attention and silence. So different fir-trees, making the Jand more solid,and the was she from all the wowen I had met in prison-like, shut-in feeling more intense; former years, that when she came hear, a| where the only water was a little burn, lis- shyness and half dread seized me, and I | tening to whose murmurs I seemed to hear could have run away from her presence, as/it say, ‘ I hasten sea-wards ; come with me ; in the days of childhood I remembered having | my music is sweet and soothing, but it is no- dove, on the approach of a strange lady, | thing to the great ocean's.’ Yes! [ fancied hiding my head in my mother's lap. it sang always—* I go to the sea! come with She got better, perceptibly better, even| me! and whom had I, dear old ynele, to to a rose-flush on ber cheeks, in the tropical | care for where [ slept but you ?’ weather, and came oftener on deck, ‘Come, Polly, don’t go on 80," said old If not employed by ship’s duties,old Mar. | Martio, trying to smile—‘don’t. tin would say, ‘I’m on deck, Mr.Treweeke,’ But she continued— : ; b which was a hint he generally gave that we ‘ ¥es, uncle, I longed to get near it, to be might relax the strictness of our watch, and ou it, to be far away from all land, and fan- even go below if we liked, until he said, | ced I should die so much happier if olear ‘The course is so-and-so, Mr. , and we | of all those trifles, which were miseries to again resumed charge. one in my bealth, but which I could not help Sie es ree nr tte Pomee | oven to, dio oa UE nan if ET to have a chat with Miss Hay—slowly over-| haven buen alten sold iad bedehenaant coming my diffidense, and beginning to take) should not live long. [ feel it is not far pleasure even in hearing her speak. Some- off—it is a wide graye, Mr. Treweeke !” times I ean call up particular evenings, and grave, Me. : even her words. Once, when taking an al- a I started at my name, and a ai titude of Procyon (your baming it to-night "8 ™y lips stole away on deck, an a ie struck the chord that revived all these me- sommes work to distract my thoughts—* Is it mories), and she'was leaning over the taff-| possible,’ I kept muttering, ‘that — Bot | rail, well wrapt up, while the old man and |@!i a dream? Can this young gir! be -_ Ursula chatted cn the lee-wheel gratings. ae to early death und an ‘avion Fr ‘Taking a star, Mr. Treweeke?’ she| No! it couid hardly be. She ying, an : asked, | strong-hearted, and full of bealth, living on ! ‘Yes, ma'am,’ I eaid, ‘to find the lati-| No! it could hardly be. tude.’ I saw very little of her after this, only ‘Ah! she continued, * is it not strange, | calling at intervals to ask in a low yoice how | the practical use we make of stars, those! she was getting on. If she heard me, [| other worlds, perhaps, with more glorious| would hear her asking nurse if that was, We take a star,| Mr. Treweeke, and [ would hasten away | as you calj it, and it tells us where we are | trying to stop the beating of my heart. The drooping sleeves, fastened at the wrist by a, bas the remotest knowledge of our position, | her, and either would come and tell me bracelet of pure white coral, two small hands, | although, perhaps, thinking of us with tear- ' whenever she had mentioned se I . . ati : ‘ , i t and soon appeared on deck ; and, after some) not less white than the wristbands, came | ful eyes and beating hearts, and this you | had never scen consumption, and would no allow myself to think but of her getting bet. | ter, and reappearing on deck in the fine | weather coming. ¥ were as stepping stones, by whose aid, thro’| We bad run down our easting, and was ‘faith and Jove, we could go on and on until | well up for the Strait. Still the weather in imagination we reached the footstool of was variable and squally with calms, when the Eternal, and, laying bare our hearts,ask old Martin said one night: . humbly for peace and pardon, and for that; ‘This is not good for poor Molly; sh assistance and comfort without which cur! won't last long. 1 wish I hadn't breught human impulses would drag us to a gloomy her, Treweeke ; bu‘ I did it all for the best despair. — all for the best! [ thought we might i get so simply.’ Then she went on, in a low sweet tone, telling half to herself, balf to me, how they | farewell, foamed darkly for » moment, an angel's voice, when trying to pierce the gleamed, then vanished—and she, whom [ thick oceanic cloud that wraps her in the far-off Eastern sea! always, had found the grave she had dreamt On board ship, as you know, one cannot | of, and was gone forever! No! not forever, retire to a secluded spot and indulge either | thought, when, reading on, I came to the his grief or joy in quietude. Tiere is al-| words, ‘when tho sea shall give up her ways work to be done, and, light heart or | dead.’ beavy heart, there is no shrinking it; it} Here he paused aolemoly, and looked up must be faved. Tho day of her death and | into the starry sky, with a strange smile ; of the squall was one of those?which, from «| then suddenly starting, be warmly clasped mixture of actual work with deep and sad my hand, and cried :—~ thought, remains graven on the memory, al-| ‘I have kept you up late, old fellow; for: though conscious at the time of having done \give me! Off to your crib now, and pray and seen everything as if in a dream. The before you turn in. Good night!’ squal) seemed to have dragged all turbu. lence off the sea, and the vapore of the at- mosphere away with it, and left a life-giving | warmth and vitality in the air as of a May-| day in childhood. A mere thin veil of fleecy clouds rested round the horizon, into which the deep blue of the zenith faded in till it became gray, and this in turn me}ted into the silvery surface of the sea. The wiod had died completely away, and the then knew I baci loved, still love, and shall A Biren Bit.—The contrivances whieh are resoried to to get hold af one snother’s pric esbeforehand, by competing contractors’ are manifold ; and when they attend in per- eon they commonly put off the filling up of their tender till the lest moment. Once ¢ shrewd contractor found himself at the same ino with a rival who always trod close on his throbbing of the ocean's heart after its Sahn = oe night's wrestle with the dark spirit that had wers. Within half a. hae of thedast me. passed over it, was seen only in long thin ment he wont into the coffee-room and sat black lines that, starting out from the baze, himself down in a corner where his rival grew firmer and more distinet on their ap- could not overlogk him, There and then proach, ever rising and falling, gleaming and he filled up his tender, aad as be rose from vanishing, until dying away near us they the table Jeft behind bim the paper on which showed on the other side firmer and more be hed blotted it. As he left the room bis distingt, retreating and sweeping, and bound rival caught ap the blotting paper, and with on their long journey vorthwards, Every the exulting glee of a consciously syecessfal sound jarring on my ear, and acting ynder rival, read off the amount backwards. “Done some curious ides, that it would be more] ii ti 0 ys was his mental thought, as he honorable with death on board, I geve or- Gilled yp his own tender a dolier lower, and ders to haul all the sails up snugly ; so stir- | hastened to d To his utter pur- : it it, ‘less was the air, their flapping and flutter- prise the unig ten he found that he had lost ing made it more mournful; and, noting b contract, apd complainingly asked his ith what a subdued and quiet manner the}. , _ ae went about the —— I felt pleased ares je eo and personally grateful to them when I saw aerinaet da Beanie i orate — each man and boy had shifted bis wet clothes sper!” —" I thopeht 60 i left it - for his best. When we had got everything = , for rm nght * ties aloft made as snug as possible, no sound Be = .o cam “pe — Bt th a broke the silence save the plashing aud sur- oa eiidtalans an eee a ing of the water about the rudder, the : cooking of the lower yards on their ny Rails. = = and the sullen tap of the carpenter's am- COMMENDABLE. —We Jeary by a votice in the mer as he completed the rude coffin that was |‘ Globe’ thet the een of the St. aie Pro- 19 hold the fair form. Old Martin and Ur. | stant Orphan Asylum bave refused . f a Theatrical performance by the i sula had never emerged from the cabin, and |’, stonre This te highly from my soul I pitied the old man and ber | roient and religious Institutions at their sad task. This was to be my first | tenance and encourage On me, who had looked on stars as mere bave done her good, and got ber safely out.’ guide-posts in the heavens to assist usop our) M y attention was taken up with a dark voyages, and who had found it a difficulty | wall of black cloudy stuff rising in the south. and trouble to learn the names of the few | westward, and I gommenced taking in sail. knew, the effect was singular, and was like | Do you remember one beginning in the Bay a vision of another world passing before me. of Bengal in this manner ; that night we When I look back, 1 wonder most at the! lost our foremast, where, when the clouds imperceptiele manner in which a change! broke, we saw the mcon eclipsed, and said was wrought in my mind. I remember uo! we show'd never forget it? burial at sea, and what wonder if strange | Onan as cotillion ewe ae and undefinable emotions stirred me when, | ligencer. nn 7 'the carpenter directing,we raised a platform | Why alta Hep farther and conde Bundy at the starboard gangway,turning two water- | School Pie-Nies, because of some e ir butts on their oa and placing planks on rences thyt take place at them, sod. Bagsars foe them with their outer edges on the gun- 400 pee eed cbdie theta —o at wale? We spread an ensign over all, and | girls with pockets full of vaiac, anh eae “Our preparations were supposed to he com- change, Sir”—Daily Focnng Beno. coun. otber Patel. hae