there was not a single person at court but spoke of the wonderful cloth, and all deemed they established their-right, by asserting they had seen and touched it. One day, our adventurers, emboldened by their success, went so far as to propose making an official robe for his majesty, to be worn on an approaching gala day. The king, who was tempted to discover whether there was not in his capital some companions in misfortune, promptly accepted their offer. After having accurately measured the monarch, our trio returned home and appeared busily engaged in preparing the dress. On the appointed day, they re-appeared at the palace ostensibly with his majesty's garments. Shown to his apartments, they went through the operation of dressing him, lauding, at intervals, the beauty of the stuff and the excellence of the fit. His majesty was confounded, but still maintained his discretion. The operation concluded, he mounted his charger, and proudly paraded the city streets in the midst of a superb cavalcade. No one was ignorant of the astonishing properties of the cloth; so every one must see it, and all therefore added to their cry of "Long live the king!" "what a splendid coat he has got!" This much enraged the king, who was more fain to believe himself the basest born personage in his kingdom. Suddenly a little Moor, groom to his majesty, cried out, "Why the king is naked!"This cry was echoed by his comrades. Insensibly the people too began to join in the clamor. The king finished by declaring his belief in its correctness; and finally the grandees coincided in opinion with his majesty. The emisaries of justice were dispatched to the domicil of the three adventurers, but they were not to be found-neither was gold, silver nor silk visible about their forsaken premises. The monarch to his great joy to find himself equally well born with the members of his court, would not permit the pursuit of the runaways. It is thus many errors are established in the world, and that many prejudices exist only by the fear we entertain of rendering ourselves singular by opposing them. The Patriotic Milkmaids, During the war in the Low Countries, the Spaniards intended to besiege the city of Dort, in Holland, and accordingly planted some thousand soldiers in ambush, to be ready for the attack when opportunity might offer. On the confines of the city lived a rich farmer, who kept a number of cows on his grounds, to furnish the city with butter and milk. His milkmaids at this time coming to milk their cows, saw, under the hedges, the soldiers lying in ambush; they, however, appeared to take no notice, and having milked their, cows, went away, singing merrily. On coming to their master's house, they told him what they had seen, who, astonished at the relation, took one of the maids with him to a burgomaster at Dort, who immediately sent a spy to ascertain the truth of the story. Finding the re port correct, he began to prepare for safety, and instantly sent to the states, who ordered soldiers into the city, and commanded the river to be let in by a certain sluice, which would instantly put that part of the country under water where the besiegers lay in ambush. This was forthwith done, and a great number of the Spaniards were drowned; the rest, being disappointed in their design, escaped, and the town was thus providentially saved. The states, to commemorate the merry milkmaids' service to their country, bestowed on the far. mer a large annual revenue, to compensate the loss of his house, land and cattle, and caused the effigies of a milkmaid milking a cow to be engraven on all the coin of the city. This impress is still to be seen upon the Dort coinage; similar figures were also set up on the water gate of the Dort; and to complete their munificence, the maiden was allowed for her own life, and her heirs forever, a very handsome annuity. THE MOLE-HILL AND THE MOUNTAIN.A towering mountain reared its head to the skies on one side of a wide and deep valley; on the other, a little mole-hill lay basking in the sun. As it contemplated the distant mountain, shooting its snow-cap brow into the regions of boundless space, far above the clouds, and beheld the gilded glories of its distant summit, the mole-hill became discontented and unhappy. It contrasted its own insignificence with the awful and majestic outlines of its mighty neighbour; at wished a thousand times that it could raise its head above the clouds; it sighed at the thought, that it could never become a mountain, and impeached the justice of the gods for having made it only a mole-hill to be troden upon by man, and crawled over by the most contemptible insects. In short, it pined itself into a wretchedness, and sacrificed all the comforts of its own littleness to desire of becoming great. As it one day lay gazing upward at the distant object of its envy, a storm suddenly gathered around the summit of the mountain; the lightnings leaped with forked tongue, the thunder rolled, the tempest lashed its lofty sides and the torrents poured down, tearing their way, and ploughing deep ravines in the course, while all beneath remained perfectly quiel, and the little mole-hill lay basking in the sun-beam of a summer-morning. Scarcely had the storm passed away, when the earth began to rock and tremble as with an ague, a rumbling and appalling noise raged in the bowels of the mountain, which suddenly burst, throwing volumes of smoke and showers of fire into the peaceful skies, that turned from blue to glowing red. Rivers of burning sands gushed out from its sides, coursing their way toward the valley and scathing the verdure and the woods into black smoking ruins. a few hours, the majestic mountain seemed as if it were disemboweled, and having nothing to sustain it, fell with a crash that shook the surrounding world and nid the ambient skies in a chaos of dust and ashes. The mole-hill had all this time remained quiet and safe in its lowly retreat, and when the obscurity had become dissipated and it beheld the great ob In and left the cottage of Stillwater Plains. ject of its envy crumbled into a mass of smoked in their native exuberance as he turned ing ruins, it became all of a sudden the happiest of mole-hills. "Budy o' me!" it cried, "but it is a great blessing to be little. Oh, Tera! I thank thee that thou didst not make me a mountain !"-Fables by Paulding. From the New York Mirror. A Tale of Truth. They passed the night in one of the plan They bent their way to the nearest branch of the Alleghany, on which they embarked in an open boat, pennyless, and with a small store of eatables. One stormy evening, in the month of November they tied their canoe to a tree, and made their way to the nearest dwelling which proved to be the habitation of an unfeeling planter. He turned a deaf ear to On the plains of Stillwater lived a revolu- the claims of patriotic age, and shut his door tionary veteran and his little family-a wife upon our shelterless wanderers! Ingratitude and an only son, a sprightly lad of sixteen. A overcame the veteran who had scorned the small plat of ground amply served their limi- frosts of '76 aud but for his son, he would have tod want; and a little all" it was-for, shel-sunk under the weight of his misfortunes. tered by a "snug little cot," from wintry storms and summer's heat, fed by healthfulter's barns, hungry, wet and cold, on a bed of industry, they passed along the vale of life in simple, solid, "sweet content." Here, with an honest, grateful pride, did the old man behold his country rapidly rising in national piety and physical splendor, to a peerless rank among the kingdoms of the earth; and here he could have spent the few remaining days left for him, had not the death of his wife, and the future welfare of his son, opened a new and wide field for exertion. He knew that his much loved son was soon to be left in this mercenary world, without an earthly guardian or support, and he felt the imperious call of duty to see him settled in life, if possibie, ere he should be gathered to his fathers. One plan alone seemed probable to succeed which was to avail himself of a hitherto neglected military land-title. This title covered a large tract somewhere in the eastern part of Kentucky; but, from the alteration of names, he was unable to tell its precise situation.He, however, resolved to search for it, at all hazards, and accordingly sold his trifling estate, settled his debts, and set forward on foot with all the firmness of one inured to toils and hardships from infancy. straw! At the dawn of day, our travellers set forward to the next village, and obtained abreakfast. They found themselves in Kentncky, on one of those extensive alluvial bottoms, peculiar to the great western rivers of North America. On taking his title to a lawyer, the old gentleman found to his astonishment, that it was a wealthy plantation; and what must have been his feelings, on finding it to be occupied by the same brutish nabob who, the night preceding, drove him and his suffering child from his door! The wretch in his turn was forced to beg, for he had not enough left to pay the rent which had been amassing for twenty years: yet with more effect, for he was allowed to spend the remainder of his miserable days on a remote portion of the plantation. His life had been a series of cruelty and knavery, and this last crowning act was followed by the temporal beginning of an eternal retribution. Francis Aretine, a celebrated teacher of laws, at Ferrara, in Italy, once resorted to a singular mode to convince his students of what consequence it is to be reputed an honest man. He went to the butcher's shambles before day, and with the assistance of his servant, broke open their shops, and stole a quantity of meat. Two of his students who were known to be mischievous, were sus For one moment we will paint to ourselves the lovely landscape, with its skirted forestits gurgling rill-its lowing cow and bleating sheep-yonder hill, and at the foot, the cir cumscribed cottage, the home of the old patriot, and near it the grave of his wife: then behold the father, son, and faithful dog bid-pected, accused, and imprisoned. Upon this, ding the whole a silent, a lasting farewell! The father was leaving the field of his glory, and the remains of his partner: in these two there were associated the reccollections of his dearest sublunary joys-the virtues and affections of his departed wife, and the first radiations from the sun of American liberty. Whatever excitement shook him internally his features wore the aspect of firm, high resolve. Aretine pleaded their cause before the judges, and finally confessed that he was the guilty person, and insisted on the discharge of the prisoners. But the more he insisted on this, the more the judges were convinced of the guilt of the students; for no one dared to suspect a law-professor of such a crime, whose gravity, wisdom, and honesty were so well known. And it was long before Aretine could succeed in convincing the judges that he committed the act for the purpose of showing the advantages of a good, and the disadvantages of a bad reputation.-Lowell Jour. Not so the son; in that grove and by that babbling rill, he and his dog had gamboled away many a vernal holiday. In that dear native hut, oft had he beguiled a long winter's evening, by listening to his father's legends of the old war, or conned over and over his prayers from the mouth of his sainted mother; he was now to leave them forever. His ingenuous soul withered at the thought. From this circle all his joys and sorrows sprung-beyond it, all was vacuity. The fountain of youthful hope and buoyancy was closed, and tears flow-loose their gravity.-Constellation. A MERRY PLACE." Which, my dear lady, do you think the merriest place in the world?" "That immediately above the atmosphere that surounds the earth, I should think?" "And why so?" "Because, I am told that there, all bodies THE MAGNOLIA. Hudson, Saturday January 11, 1834. To our Patrons. According to the good old custom which has existed from time immemorial, we salute our readers with the friendly salutation of "a happy New Year." From the date of our paper we may be considered by the fastidious "a day too late for the fair;" yet, embracing the old maxim, that it is never too late to do good," we make our congee, and with a grateful heart, warmed with the spirit of frindship and good feeling, wish our kind patrons all the felicities of the season. Nor are our wishes confined to the pleasures of those days of mirth, frolic, and friendship which encircle the holiday period, but extend through all the vicissitudes of future life. To all old and young, and in every variety of situation and circumstances, we wish health, wealth, and peace; a fulfillment of every virtuous desire that can add to their happiness; the enjoymennt of that friendship which cannot be destroyed by the breath of slander, or the mean spirit of jealousy; and the participation of those social affections, which give a zest to life, and sooth the mind perplexed with the cares, troubles, and misfortunes attendant on our pilgrimage. We also present our fervent wish, that our little work may find increasing merit in the happy moments of its patrons, as having added in some slight degree to their amusement and instruction, and draw forth additional patronage and support; that on the coming New Year, our "Magnolia," in all the beauties of full flowerits blossoms filled with the richest fragrance, may delight its friends with its rich fund of instruction and innocent amusement. For the Magnolia. Information Wanted. MR. EDITOR-Can you inform me who was the author of the "On dits of Fashionable Life," which appeared in the Rural Repository of last week? I am a lady out of emiployment and would like to procure a lap dog or some other such trifling little play thing, as I should suppose the inventor of the "On dits" to be. If you can give me any information which will enable me to obtain this harmless amusement, you will receive the thanks of GLORIANNA. the request of Glorianna, but she will pardon We would be very happy to comply with us from saying, that as she enquires concerning lap dogs, and as we have no dealing with puppies, we cannot give her the desired information.-Ed. Magnolia. Hudson Forum. The next meeting of the Hudson Forum will take place on Thursday evening the 16th instant, when the following question will be discussed. Is it unconstitutional under the existing circumstances, for a State to nullify the Laws of Congress, or recede from the Union? O. P. BALDWIN, Sec'ry. The following "Alliteration," handed us for publication, we insert with pleasure, from what source it originally appeared we are unable to state. Alliteration. Frederick Fawner, famed for firmest friendship, finding female flattery fruitless, fied far from fair frequented flourishing fields, fixed far in frowning forests, formed the following fine flourishing final farewell, for false fallacious Fanny Fastidious. Flattering fiend, farewell forever! Starts some serious, sobbing sigh. Firmest faith for forms forsook. Pleasing prospects prove protecting; That through tearless time tread False. fallacious friend, farewell! Shall sorrowing sighs still silent, sleep? Why with wearied wanderings weep? Pills, poetical and philosophical, prescribed for the purpose of purging the public, &c. by PETER PEPPERBOX. For the Magnolia. Song. By Gustavus Adolphus Lovelace, Gent. Conceals a pang of wo- Ere winter's dreary hour; And all its pleasure o'er. Pine Orchard, Jan. 1834. THE TWO IMPEDIMENTS.-A rich buxom widow of a certain villgae in the state of Pennsylvania, became enamoured of a handsome young yankee pedlar, with whom she was in the habit of trading, whenever he chanced to go that road, finding that all her modest hints to elicit a formal declaration from the travelling merchant had only been thrown away, she at last condescended to introduce the theme herself, and had the pleasure to hear him confess that he had long thought of the subject as one dearest to his heart; and that there were only two impediments in the way of their mutual happiness, which she alone could remove. The delighted widow begged him to mention them, and pledged herself for their removal. "Alas, madam!" replied he," when I name the first only, I fear that you will abandon me to despair." "Fear not, sir, but name it." "Know then, loveliest of your sex! that I can never be happy with a wife, be her affections, virtues, and accomplishments what they may, until I can make her mistress of a comfortable habitation, and am myself master of a retail store, the income of which will support her genteelly." The widow smiled sweetly, bade him name the necessary sum, and to call for it on a certain hour of a certain day, when she should expect to learn the nature of the only remaining obstacle to their union. The pedlar was punctual, received the money, and informed her that the other was nothing but-another wIFE!-N. Y. Mirror. A GOOD HIT.-Some persons being in conversation the other day on religious subjects, one of them remarked, that a certain clergyman who had long been the shepherd of a flock, who had become so haughty that he did not know some of the members of his own church, because they happened to be poor. Another observed that “he must be a singular shepherd not to know the sheep of his own flock." A little girl about eight years old who was present, busy at her play, replied, "Mamma, he ought to do as grand-pa' used to do with his sheep-paint their noses.” THE BELL AND KNOCKER.-A would be wit, the other evening, experienced an im. provement on the old pun of ringing the bell. After repeating the anecdote to an elderly matron and her three daughters, with whom he was on terms of intimacy, the mother jocosely said, "Well, sir, here are three belles, Which of them will you ring?" "Oh, pardon me, madam," he replied, "I am in no hurry to reduce the pun to practice." "Indeed, sir!"cried the youngest, a pert little miss of sixteen," then since you dont choose to ring the belle, (pointing to the eldest,) zuppose your try the knocker." Suiting the action to the word, she gave him a smart box on the ear for his want of gallantry. Among the pleadings of the French Bar, the following brief speech has been preserved by the curious. The defendant was a dauber of signs, was wretchedly poor, hideously ugly, proverbially stupid, and moreover was accused of seduction. The following was the pleading of his lawyer : "Gentlemen-My arguments on this case shall be brief. In the seduction of a woman, one of these requisites are indispensable: the seducer must possess beauty, money, or sense. My client is ugly, beggarly and foolish.Ugly-look at him. Beggarly-he is a painter of signs. Foolish-interrogate him. Gentlemen, I persist in my conclusions." A traveller on the continent, visiting a celebrated cathedral, was shown by the Sacristan among other marvels, a dirty opaque phial. After eyeing it some time the traveller said, "Do you call this a relic?" "Sir," said the Sacristan, indignantly, "it contains some of the darkness that Moses spread over the land of Egypt. Capting, how many dollars is the fair to Bostng? Eleving! That's too much, by Heving? Then, will you give seving? Yes, that I've done ofting? Well then with two you have giving, this five makes us eving.Oh certaing, Capting! Married, On the 1st inst, by the Rev. J. B. Water bury, Frederick J. Barnard Esq. of Albany, to Mrs. Eliza Hosmer, of this city. At Stockport on the 1st inst. by the Rev. Mr. Sturges, Mr. Henry Sturges, to Miss Ann Eliza Cleaveland, both of Hudson. Also, at the same time and place, by the same, Mr. Elisha Babcock, to Miss Catherine Eliza Patterson, both of this city. Died, At Hillsdale, on the 28th ult. John Collin, aged 61 years. Suddenly, in Clavenack, on the 27th inst., of the croup, Cornelia Ann, in her sixth year, daughter of Dr Jacob, S. Miller. In this city, on the 1st inst. after a lingering illness, Mrs. Tabitha Marriot, aged 49 years. At Claverack, on the 3d inst. Elizabeth Catherine, daughter of Doctor Jacob S. Miller, in the 9th year of her age. For the Magnolia. The Sun. There's beauty in the sun of spring, There's beauty in the summer sun, At sweet decline of day, When he throws his golden light upon, Then melts away behind the hill, And autumn's sun hath beauties, which,' Bestow an influence ripe and rich, Upon the mellow ground; And earth yields up her treasures then, The sun of winter cold and drear As hope beams through affection's clouds, "RAY." still had the presence of mind to approach her with the utmost caution. Had she not caught a glimpse of his face and figure in her glass, he would, in all probability, have approached her near enough to execute his bloody purpose before she was aware, or could have taken any measure to save herself. Fortunately she perceived him in time to leap out of the open window into the street. Half dressed as she was, she immediately, by a very laudable exertion of her natural good sense, went to the house of Lord Primrose's mother, where she told her story, and demanded protection. That protection was at once extended; and it being now thought vain to attempt a reconciliation, they never afterwards lived together. Lord Primrose soon afterwards went abroad During his absence a foreign conjurer or fortune-teller came to Edinburgh, professing, among other wonderful accomplishments, to be able to inform auy person, of the present condition of other persons, at whatever distance, in whom the applicant might be interested. Lady Primrose, who had lost all trace of her husband, was incited by curiosity, to go with a female friend, to the lodgings of this person in the Canongate, for the purpose of inquiring regarding his motions. It was at night; and the two ladies went with the ta tan screens, or plaids of their servants, drawn over their faces by way of disguise. Lady Primrose having described the individual in whose fate she was interested, and having expressed a desire to know what he was at present doing, the conjurer led her to large mirror, in which she distinctly perceived the appearance of the inside of a church with a marriage party tonishment, she recognized in the shadowy bridegroom, no other than her husband, Lord Primrose. The magical scene, thus so strikingly displayed, was more exactly like a picture of the stage than the dead and immovable deliniations of the pencil. It admitted of additions to the persons represented, and of a progress of action. As the lady gazed on it, the ceremonial of the marriage seemed to proceed, the necessary arrangements had, at last been all made, the priest seemed to have pronounced the preliminary service; he was just on the point of bidding the bride and bridegroom join hands, when suddenly a Story of the Countess of Stair. “This house was occupied by the dowager of the celebrated general and statesman, John, second Earl of Stair, who died in 1747. Her Ladyship, after long exercising a sway over the hauton of the Scottish Capitol, died here, November 21, 1769, at a very advanced age. The late Mr. Mackenzie, author of the Man of Feeling,' informed the author that he re-arranged near the altar. To her infinite ascollected her Ladyship living in this house. The close takes its name from her Ladyship, Some remarkable circumstances in the early life of this lady formed the groundwork of a tale by the author of Waverley, under the title of Aunt Margarett's Mirror.' They are now related here in more ample form. She was the youngest daughter of James, second Earl of Loudon, and consequently was grandaughter to that stern old Earl, who acted so important a part in the affairs of the covenant, and who was Lord Chancellor of Scotland during the troublesome times of the civil war. While very young, (about the beginning of the 18th century,) she was mar-gentleman, for whom the rest seemed to have ried to James, first Viscount Primrose, a nobleman of extremely bad temper, and what was worse, of every dissolute character.Her Ladyship, who had a great deal of her grandfather in her, could have managed most men with great ease, by dint of superior intellect and force of character; but the cruelty of Lord Primrose was too much for her. He treated her so barbarously, that she had even to apprehend that he would some day put an end to her life. One morning, during the time she was laboring under this dreadful anticipation, she was dressing herself in her chamber near the open window, when his Lordship entered the room behind her, with a sword drawn in his hand. He had opened the door softly, and altho' his face indicated a resolution of the most horrible nature, he waited a considerable time, and in whom Lady Primrose thought she recognized a brother of her own abroad, entered the church, and made hurriedly towards the party. The aspect of this person was at first only that of a friend, who had come too late; but as he advanced to the party, the expression of his countenance and figure was altered very sensibly. He stopped short; his face assumed a wrathful expression; he drew his sword, and rushed up to the bridegroom, who also drew his weapon. The whole scene then became quite tumultuous and indistinct, and almost immediately vanished entirely away. When Lady Primrose got home, she wrote a minute narrative of the whole transaction, to which she appended the day of the month on which she had seen the mysterious vision. This |