Elopement.

A young lady just returned from a seminary (where she had been Frenched, danced, and taught to draw, and learned the use of the globes, and of late had been wondrously given to novels, loving "perhaps not wisely, but too well!") left Pa' and Ma' at Crediton on Sunday, with a "chap as used to be seen poking a long nose over a garden wall," at the good people's "daurter." The relatives of the young fugitive got some scent that the party had taken the road to Exeter, and they resolved to lose no time. Accordingly they came to our city, and with the assistance of one of our officers ascertained the house at which the happy couple had ordered a supper and bed for two! The supper was already invitingly spread, and the gentleman about to do the honours, when the door was abruptly opened, and in marched the conservatives. The scene was most moving; the young lady ran over to an easy chair and fainted three successive times in as many minutes, while the Lothario, with noble daring, ran to the rescue of his "soul's best treasure," grasping the swooning beauty round her taper waist, and inadvertently, as 'tis supposed, seizing a ham by the knuckle from the table, and placing himself in a theatrical attitude, swore that whoever "moved one step to follow him, died upon the spot," and was bending his way to the door, when the officer desired him not to "kick up a bit of bobbery," parried a mischievously intended blow of his greasy weapon, handed the panting beauty to her people, and bundled the hero out of the room, "neck and crop." The charming truant was secured; but "Love laughs at locksmiths," for she has since, we understand, flown to the arms of the man she loved.—Exeter Gazette.