which is more than I can say of all my for mer undertakings,s
{"character_count": 4660, "word_count": 826, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9711999893188477], "ccnet_perplexity": [1824.5999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
which is more than I can say of all my for mer undertakings an ..a r.es

 The company laughed heartily at the ex lawyers account of his exploit; while the latter, hanging his coat up in the sun, said that the mud--like the old lady's grease-would rub off when it was dry.

 He continued awhile longer, to follow his occupation of chair bottoming when, suddenly becoming sane again, he resumed the practice ofthe law; and has ever since preferred laying his opponents on their backs in legal way, to being laid on his own in so ludicrons manner as that above reIated.-N. Y. Trans.

 S0taTday Night.--P Perhaps the happiest moments of life are thase that close the week. It is wise decree of Providence that makes toil the necessary precedent of rest, and priyation the parent of pleasure. There are few who do not experience thro' the week, toll and privation, and afew who have not felt the grateful sense of confi- dence and comfort that creeps over the soul at it's close. The burden is thrown, not merely from the frame, but from the heart. The spirit frees itself from it's en- cumbering cares, as the wearied horse shakes off his harness, and expatiates with a grateful lassitude, in the luxury of con- scious security and comfort. Saturday night winds up the travelled sleeve of care.s The strife and hustle of the world are sus- pended. The poor man draws his breath freely for a while, nor fears the harsh voice or st6ney frown of his creditor. The mer- chant throws himself upon the sofa without thinking ofthe notes due and coming due.', The tradesman terminates his labors with a light spirit, for the sense of present ease is ccompanied with the thoughts of a hap- py morrow; and the laborer sings as he turns his bronzed face homeward.

 Saturday night has its own peculiar en- joyments, which are mos, felt by those to whom toll and discomfit make joy 2 stran-. ger. Look at the fre-side of the poor man on Saturday night, and you will see his brow relaxed, and his eye lit up with an unwonted smile. He gambols with his children, and lays down his head upon his pillow, without shuddering at the prospect of fto-morrow's toil. To the poor, Satur- day night is an era of delight, moment of sunshine in world of gloom, period of freedom in time of servitude, a season of rest and comfort in life of wretchedness and toil. s,,H Life too has it's Saturday night. How sweet is the reflection that when the tolls of existence, like those of the week, are terminated, when the sufferings which are woven with the tissue of life are at an end, and fear ceases 10 tantalize and torture the soul-that we will enjoy the rest and the slumber of the peaceful Saturday night.' The grave is that resting place. and death the slumbsr--' where the wick ed cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.' Nor is that Saturday night with- out it's Sabbath. To those who havo per- formed the duties of the week the sun of that Sabbath will shine without sitting Who that has felt the chill which congeals the bonds and affections of life, the dull, be- numbing and whitening influences of, the world, can refrain from watching with long- ing eyes, the receding day, and look with weary anxiety for the Saturday night of life Sweet, as slamber to the sobbing babe, is rest to the heavy laden. and soft as the downy cygnet, the pillow upon which his aching head is laid, and where 'Afier lie's 6tful fever, he sleeps wel.'

 l Character of D1shing Girk-Fan-

 ny Wilding was what the world calls an animated girl:-~she would pun, throw a jest whenever she could, affect opinions different from all the world, talk upon ab- strase subjects, quote Homer to an officer in the army, and talk of perpetual motion to an efeminate man of fashion.

 elfopinionated, with complete self pos session, a sarcastic sheer and bewitching smile, good person and many. accom4 plishments, this young woman was known as a genius. She was a connoisseur in painting. an amateur in music, a pe.fsce dancer, and exquisite performer on the pi- ano. aud a miracle in singing. She wrote tales and poems, published on woven pa- per and broad margins, made designs for furniture, dressed in the most outre cos- tune to set fashion, was fine dashing an- imated girl-and more horrible thing is there upon earth. Modesty and diffidence are the attributes of woman: their silence is eloquence, and their timidity conquest. Miss Wilding did not think so, and rat- tied away most furiously called ono man, horrid brute,' another vile monster hurried over all topics where she could raise laugh, which she would do at any body's expense except her own. 9sie

 But with all this blaze of notoriety, did