=Old Boy.=

A southern paper advertises a runaway boy, _thirty-six years of age_!

* * * * *

By a recent telegraphic arrangement, the papers in Albany, Troy,
Utica, Syracuse, Auburn, Rochester and Buffalo, are furnished with
reports from New York twice a day,--at 2 and 8 P. M.

* * * * *

The Connecticut river is reported to be lower than it has been known
within the remembrance of the oldest inhabitants. It is reduced to a
mere brook.

* * * * *

A company formed in Boston has commenced operation on a copper mine in
Cumberland, R. I. About 4000 lbs. of ore were taken out a few days
since, and yields about 20 per cent.

* * * * *

The Hon. Louis McLane gets a salary of $5000 a year--nearly $100 per
week--for holding the office of President of the Baltimore and Ohio
Railway Company.

* * * * *

An imperial _quarter_ of Indian corn, in 480 pounds, which is equal
to eight bushels of sixty pounds each. We suppose some of our readers
would like to know about that.

* * * * *

A solution of copper is an excellent wash for purifying sinks, and
removing all unpleasant effluvia. Two or three applications will be
effectual.

* * * * *

We are informed that the steamer Buffalo is making arrangements for
the adoption of Barnum's Safety Apparatus.

* * * * *

Two iron steamboats, of 70 tons each, are to run between Philadelphia
and Reading, Pa., carrying freight and passengers.

* * * * *

The editor of the Cincinnati Commercial says that he has a project for
connecting the old and new worlds by telegraph.

* * * * *

Twelve hundred and thirty-four miles of magnetic telegraph are
reported to be in actual operation in the United States.

* * * * *

An association of capitalists at Worcester county, Mass., are
exploring a vein of copper in Greenfield.

=The True Ornament.=

'The ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.'

BY MISS E. J. ANDREWS.

I ask not for the glittering wreath,
Of India's sparkling diamonds rare,
To deck my brow, while oft beneath,
There throbs a heart with heaviest care.

I ask not for the gilded chain,
Of perishing and worthless gold,
To clasp my neck, while oft in vain
The heart's best sympathies unfold.

Oh! give me not the worthless dust