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The Annual Washington Birth-day Ball OF WASHINGTON ASSOCIATION

DANCING CLASSES.

WHALE AND DAUGHTER RESPECTFULLY

MR. comence

TILL be held at "METROPOLITAN HALL," on

W MONDAY EVENING, February 23.

The Association desire to remind their friends that the Tickets are limited, and under no consideration will money be taken or tickets sold at the door on the night of the Ball. Thus no efforts will be spared by the Associa tion to insure the comfort and pleasure of their friends, and render this the most Elegant Ball of their series. There are but a very few tickets remaining unsold, and our friends are advised to secure them early.

JOHN H. BRIGGS, President.

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HE SUBSCRIBER, HAVING ENLARGED AND

Tbeautified his Establishment, No. 214 Broadway, is

prepared to supply his friends and the public with SUPPERS, comprising Oysters of the finest quality, dressed in every desirable manner, and every other seasonable delicacy that the palate may crave. His conveniences are now so extensive, that visitors are served without the least delay. A good Bar is connected with the Establishment, from which the choicest wines, liquors, and segars may be obtained. J. A. WALNUT,

214 Broadway, opposite St. Paul's Church.

AMERICAN TEMPERANCE GROCERY. OSEPH HAIGHT, OF WASHINGTON CHAPTER,

&c., of the best quality, at 20 per cent. less than any other

store.

season, at Gothic Hall, Brooklyn, October 13th; at Consti tution Hall, 650 Broadway, 14th; and at the New Rooms, Eighth avenue, corner of Twenty-fifth street, 15th. Les sons given in Waltzing, Schottisch, Polka, &c., and also the new dances La Gorletza, La Tempête, and other Dances, at the Private Academy, No. 66 Sixth avenue, where all information will be given.

For further particulars, see Circular, to be had as above.

O. U. A.

E. ice, 66 Wall street. Uncurrent Money, Drafts, &c.,

F. NEXEN, EXCHANGE AND COLLECTION OF

bought and sold on the most favorable terms.

Drafts on Philadelphia, Boston, &c., for sale. Collections made with dispatch on all parts of the Union. Land Warrants bought and sold.

The patronage of the Order and of the business community generally is respectfully solicited.

THE

BOOT AND SHOE STORE.

THE SUBSCRIBERS HAVE OPENED AN EXTENsive Establishment at 142 Chatham street, where every article of Boots and Shoes will be found always on hand, including Ladies' fine Gaiters, Buskins, Slippers, and Ties Patent Leather Buskins and Slippers; Misses and Childrens' Boots and Shoes; Boys' and Youths' Boots and Shoes; GENTLEMEN'S FINE FRENCH CALFSKIN BOOTS, Patent Leather Shoes, Congress Gaiters, Dancing Pumps and Gaiters, Patent Leather and Embroidered Slippers. Also, Calfskin, Grain, Seal, and Kip Pegged and Sewed Boots; and a large assortment of THICK LONG LEG BOOTS, suitable for Firemen, Seamen, and Boatmen, all made out of the best materials, and expressly for our Retail Trade. N.B.-Gentlemen's Fine Calfskin Boots made to order, from $3 50 to $5. BIGELOW & GEDNEY, No. 142 Chatham st.

Store, No. 39 Stanton street, corner of Forsyth. Small PAT

profits and cash prices.

Goods sent to any part of the city free of charge.

CA

GARDNER'S PREMIUM BEDSTEAD,

(ABINET AND MATTRESS WAREHOUSE, 69 Gold st., between Beekman and Spruce sts., ESTABLISHED 1840. This improved Bedstead has received the highest premiums awarded by the American Institute, in 1843, 44, and '45, over every competitor; and the Medal, at the fairs of 1846, '47, and '48.

The Bedsteads and all other articles of furniture required for the Parlor, Chamber, or Bedroom, such as Sofas, Chairs,

Pier and Centre Tables, Dressing Bureaus, French and Cottage Bedsteads, Washstands, Toilet Tables, &c., are manufactured of Black Walnut and Mahogany, of every variety of pattern and style, and under his immediate supervision. HAIR MATTRESSES, Palliasters, Feather Beds, &c., warranted as represented. Orders from the South, Hotel-keepers, and private families are respectfully solicited.

WILLIAM C. GARDNER.

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STEELE AND CO.,

ATENT FEATHER BRUSH MANUFACTURERS, No. 53 Nassau and 305 Pearl streets, New-York.

Low Prices! Good Work! Prompt Execution!

DOUGLASS AND COLT,

BOOK, JOB, AND CARD PRINTERS,
No. 154 WATER STREET,

(Corner of Maiden Lane, New-York.); THE SUBSCRIBERS RESPECTFULLY INVITE THE attention of the O. U. A., Chapters and Members of the O. U. A., to their facilities for executing EVERY DESCRIP TION of PRINTING, which they are prepared to furnish at very low rates, in the best style, and at very short notice, by means of the BEST and FASTEST PRINTING MACHINES.

CONSTITUTION AND BY-LAWS OF THE O. U. A., containing the Constitutions of Chancery and A. C., and also the latest Ordinances and Resolutions of Chancery, are stereotyped in beautiful style. This is the most complete edition extant. See Subscribers' Edition of By-Laws of Washington, No. 2; National, No. 18; Wayne, No. 52; Fort Greene, No. 54, &c., &c. Call and see specimens. Recollect, the number is 154 WATER STREET.

DOUGLASS & COLT.

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"The boy had fewer summers-but his heart
Had far outgrown his years, and in his mind,
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was gazing on him."

Ir had been a sultry morning, and dark masses of clouds collecting suddenly over the heavens, foretold the approach of one of those terrific thunder-storms which so often close a serene summer day. The deep blue sky disappeared by degrees, till scarcely one spot remained to relieve the heavy gloom. The firmament seemed to resemble the ocean in its wrath; heavy piles of vapor rolling over each other like waves, charged with electric fire. The change affected all around. The birds flew to the sheltering groves, the kingly eagle alone resisting the storm, and soaring fearlessly above the dark canopy. The tender flowers drooped their heads as the gale passed over them, and the mighty oaks frowned defiance to the threats of the tempest. Chains of sulphurous flame ran like veins through the gathering waves on high, and descended to mingle with those of the dark waters beneath. The forest trees groaned in fear, and surrendered many a green branch to the tempest's fury. A graceful willow bent its pliant arms over the casement of a building, near which sat two persons gazing upon the rising storm with equal, yet varied interest.

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The first, and most interesting figure, was that of a lady apparently about twenty-three years of age. Her arm leaned upon the casement, her head supported by her hand. Her features, or rather the expression of those features, it would be difficult to describe, as they varied as quickly as the shadowy clouds upon which she gazed; but soul, intellect, feeling, were painted there, and the light of enthusiasm seemed checked, but not extinguished.

There was another figure. It was that of a youth scarce twenty. Beauty, uncommon beauty, no one could deny to be his. Hiseyes were of that dark, deep, melancholy. blue whose glances speak to the heart. His high and nobly turned forehead, and finely shaped head, would have furnished a model for a Spurzheim or a Gall. He soon ceased regarding the storm without, for his eyes were fixed intently upon the face of the lady at his side.

Turn we to the interior of the apartment,.. where art and luxury had lavished their brightest gifts. It was of narrow dimen sions, though not so petite as the boudoir of a French lady; for these useless appendages to a comfortable snug home were not patronized in the days of our puritan and precise forefathers. But every article of fur

niture in this room was as rich and recherché as the most fastidious Parisian belle could desire. All seemed regulated by the most refined taste. A handsome mahogany book-case, well filled-quite a treasure at that time-stood on one side of the room, surmounted by a marble bust of Alexander the Great, said to have been copied from an original. On each side of the book-case were couches covered with superb crimson satin, of a texture far superior to the flimsy material of modern times. Immediately over the couches hung two portraits, one representing a cavalier of the English court, and the other a French peasant-girl of rare beauty. Over the mantel hung a full-length picture of a beautiful boy; and it needed but a glance at that and the youth we have just introduced to our readers to discover the original of the portrait. The windows were nearly shrouded by heavy curtains of the same rich material as the couches. A fine Turkey carpet-an article then only in-. dulged in by the wealthy-covered the floor, and a black marble centre-table, on which lay an unfinished drawing and a few books, completed the adornment of Madame Dumont's drawing-room. But we must not forget the two living ornaments to the room, whose future history will be the subject of

our story.

wisest philosophers in all ages have shrunk alarmed from a thunder-storm."

"I was not even thinking of the thunderstorm," replied the youth.

"How is it possible to employ our thoughts otherwise at such a moment, Clarence, when nature has put on her aspect of sublimity? The sudden change from such perfect stillness to wild commotion cannot fail to inspire feelings of veneration mingled with awe."

"And may not a just similitude be drawn between the change of scene we have just witnessed and the human heart?" asked Clarence. "As the sun is obscured by clouds, so is hope too often shrouded by the fears and doubts intruding there.”

"Yet the storm will pass away, Clarence, and the sun shine even brighter than before. May it not be thus with the heart!"

A gleam of joy lit up the eyes of the youth as she pronounced these words.

"What a blessed thought is that he exclaimed. "Yes, if it were not that hope but conceals itself to return again to gladden us, how miserable would be our life !"

"Clarence, I have observed of late that you have given way too much to melancholy. It is unnatural in you. So young, and formerly so happy; surrounded with every

"Clarence," said the lady, turning sud- thing to render life desirable; you surely

denly towards the youth.

He started.

"Clarence, do you fear the lightning?"

"No."

have no cause for sadness. How would the world marvel at such capricious fancies! For me to indulge in grief would excite no wonder. An orphan, deprived of all those

"Had we not better retire from the win- sweet ties of kindred and home with which dow? you may not be safe here."

"When will you cease to consider me a child?" replied he, while a quick flush passed over his brow. "If you do not fear the storm, why should I?"

"You seem to have great belief in my strength of mind," said she, smiling. "Yet I acknowledge I am not so timorous as many of my sex; but your lady-mother is uncommonly so, and why should you not be subject to terrors so natural? The

you are blessed-having not one human being from whom I can claim kindness or protection-ah! such is an unenviable lot. But you!-come, come, be more cheerful. As your Mentor, I shall not allow you to be sad."

"And should Telemachus hesitate to obey the orders of Mentor, what will be his punishment ?"

"Telemachus having arrived at an age when his own judgment should regulate his

actions, Mentor can only advise, having no power to enforce obedience."

"And if the pupil prefer even the voice of reproof from such a Mentor, to all the praise or adulation of others, what step should then be taken to punish him?"

"I know of no other but to banish him from the presence of so unfit a tutor, and compel him to submit to the guidance of those more capable of insisting upon his obedience."

"Nay, then, rather than endure such an infliction as that, Telemachus will punish himself by masking his sadness in smiles." "Rather let reason guide you," replied the lady.

"Is not every effort of reason vain, when employed to control the feelings?"

"And cannot the voice of friendship have power to chase away your gloom?" asked the lady, while her eye drooped beneath the ardent gaze of her companion.

"Friendship!" echoed the youth. "How calmly you pronounce that word! Far above the weakness of human nature yourself, your heart is equally serene in sunshine and in storm. Helen, it is that very superiority of mind, so different from the rest of the world with which I have mingled, which chains me in adoration at your feet. Do not interrupt me now. The mask must be withdrawn, and the sooner the better. I know what you would say; you would lavish upon me again your cold lessons of reason, prudence, and philosophy. You would make me a mere automaton-a creature of calculating policy, subject to the caprice of those who pretend to possess a right to control my feelings as well as my actions. I am your willing pupil in all else. But suffer me to indulge my own thoughts unmolested. Nay, hear me patiently now, and if the subject is painful, never more will I offend. My life had been a blank till came and awoke me from my stupor to intellectual existence. The companion of the mother became the tutor of the son. With the precepts which have fallen from your lips, have been mingled a charm more po

you

tent than the sorcerer's magic. To break that charm now would be to hurl me back from the height of happiness to the depth of misery. No, rather consider me a child again, if it secure my being near you and listening to you for ever. One word more. My mother has lately hinted a wish that I should leave home, and take my station in the world. She gives me my choice—the law or the army. For the one, I am wholly unfitted. In the dangers and excitements of the other, I may learn forgetfulness, if not find peace. I have now told you all, and I ask your counsel, which has always been so sweet to me."

While he was speaking, Helen, warned by the increasing violence of the storm, had retreated from the window, and sat with her face half concealed by the heavy drapery. The deep rich color of her cheek had subsided to a deadly paleness, as if the blood had retreated to a heart accustomed to still its emotions. The long fringed lashes, which shaded her dark hazel eyes, swept her cheek, for not once were they raised as she listened; but when he ceased, she replied, as calmly as to any trivial remark—

"You have told me nothing new, Clarence. Your mother has already informed me of her intentions with regard to your future position in life. She has also, with many thanks for what she terms a benefit conferred upon her, by assisting in your instruction in the languages, hinted that my residence here is no longer necessary, and that on your return from your three years' intercourse with the world, arrangements have been made for your marriage with Adelaide St. Clair, the niece of her late husband, your step-father, Monsieur Dumont".

She paused, for on raising her eyes to mark the effect of her words, she was terrified at the agonized expression of her auditor's countenance. He made a slight effort to raise the window, a few half-uttered words issued from his lips-he half rose, and then fell back and fainted.

There are situations in life, when we might find it as useless to attempt to confine

the impetuous torrent in its course, as restrain the pent-up feelings of the soul. Helen sprang to the side of the insensible youth, threw up the window, and heeded not the dashing rain as it swept over her, and bathed the pale forehead of the sufferer. With all the passionate eloquence which the tenderest heart of woman could inspire, she sought to call him back to life. But he soon recovered, and she was calm and cold as before, and simply begged his forgiveness for being so abrupt in her communication, supposing he had heard it already from his mother.

"And did you suppose I was a party to such an arrangement, Helen? This is the last evening I may spend under this roof, and I now declare, that if you cast me from you, I will enter the army, never to return again alive. Neither Adelaide St. Clair nor any other shall hear those vows from my lips which bind me to you. Here I swear”

"Stop, stop, Clarence! You know not what you are saying. Alas! it is necessary that we should part, when matters have become so serious. I shall leave Madame Dumont's to-morrow; and if my prayers for your happiness have any efficacy, you will, you must be happy, dear Clarence."

In vain did the youth implore her, by every tender epithet, not to leave him to despair. The tears of Helen fell fast upon his brow as he knelt before her, but her resolution remained unchanged. She used all the influence which had ever been employed over her docile pupil, to prove to him how idle and visionary were his present hopes; but the strength of mind with which. she had armed herself was fast yielding to the persuasions of him she secretly loved; and the words were on her lips which would have sealed their fate as one, when the door opened, and Madame Dumont, the mother of Clarence, entered the apartment.

A long digression in the middle of a story is always fatiguing to the reader, or we should go back to the early history of the lady whose haughty step so unexpectedly interrupted the conversation of the lovers. Helen, although conscious of no wrong, felt

the color mount to her brow, and her whole frame tremble; while Clarence confronted his parent, the angry spot on whose cheek foretold a coming storm, more to be dreaded than that on which they had been gazing.

None but a close observer would have traced a resemblance between the stern, unbending features of the intruder, and the smiling, happy, innocent, artless face of the rustic peasant in the portrait we spoke of; and yet they were the same. Colonel Grahame had found this pretty flower blooming unseen in the wild forests of Normandy, and transplanted it to his lordly halls, to be the dispenser of wreaths to victors, and smiles to cringing slaves; but the untutored heart of the mountain girl grew lofty and overbearing in its new situation. She received the adulation of the multitude as her right, and trampled on the feelings of the humble without remorse. Her noble husband was abroad in the service of his country, and the young wife queened it bravely at home. He was cut off in the prime of life, yet crowned with glory's wreath, and bequeathed to his only son, Clarence, then a child of five years, an unsullied name and a rich inheritance. Mrs. Grahame mourned his loss for a year, and then accepted the hand of Monsieur Dumont, with whom she spent two years in Paris, and afterwards removed to the land of beauty and adventure, which drew so many to its shores.

Dumont died soon after their arrival, and his widow was so inconsolable as to meditate retiring to a convent. But society had too many charms, and the education of her son claimed her attention; she therefore launched again into the vortex of fashionable life, and drank in eagerly the breath of flattery, which is ever unsparingly lavished upon the possessor of wealth and the leader of fashion.

The beauty and intelligence of the orphan, Helen Williams, early caught the attention of the wealthy lady. Her father, Colonel Williams, in the second French war, 1755, was sent at the head of a regiment to join General Johnson, at the north, and was

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