~~ r rr-061:' ^ Tr. Y 1 le M RAMBO, Editor and Publisher. VOLUME -XXXV, NUMBER 47. J !THE COLIIMIA SPY, lESCEMEORYJ MK llama EVERY SATURDAY NORM. IOPTICE, 1 Lamer ST., OrrOSITE C 01.1131 IJL BANK. TERMS OF SIiBSCRIETIO.N. %1,50 a year if paid in advance ;toe" if not paid within ii months. 2,50 if not paid until the expiration of tlie year ' - FOUR CENTS A COPY. Y. paper will be discontinued until all ar t irages is,pFtd unless at the option of the editor. totes :of lliveettstag in the Spy. • - • ' It. llno. Imo. am.. ly. 1 sq. II lines or loss ' 601,00 1,2". 3,00 5,00 • 5,00 2 .. 10 " 1,00 2,00 5,50 4,00 5,00 15,00 25 2,50 3,00 . 3,75 7,50 12,00 20,00 [Larger advertisements in prooortiona • Executors'. and Administrators' Notices, inser tions. 52,00. Auditors' Notices and Legal Notices, 3 Insertions, 51,W. Special Notices, as reading matter, 10 cents a lino for one insertion. -Yearlyndvertiseis will bo charged the same rates as transient advertisers for all matters not relating strictly to their business.' byU Advertising w (ter nsidered CASH, or collectable raft ia 30 days einsertion. JOB WORK, BOU • Having jest added to our offiee one of Gortisxes Im moral. Joe Pauses, we are enabled to execute in a superior manner, at the very lowest prism every do senption oT printing known to the art. Onr assort ment ofJOl3 TYPE is large anti...fashionable.. Give us. trial and our work shall speak for Itself. READING RAIL ROAD. r- SIMMER AREAMENENT. • GREAT TRUNK LINE FROM the North and North-West for Philadelphia, New York, Reading, Pottsville, Lebanon, Allentown, Easton..tc, Trains leave Harrisburg for 'Philadelphia, New York, Reading:Pottsville. and all Intermediate Sta tions.,4l. 8 A. }Load 2 P. 31. New York Express leaves 'Harrisburg at 620 A. 31., arriving at New 1 - ork at 1.45 the same morning. , A special Acrommodation Passenger train leaves Reading at T. 15 A, 31, nod returns from Harrisburg at 5 P. M. Pares front-Harrisburgto New York 55 15: to Philndelpqa 1295 and SiS 80. llitsgage checked through. • Returning leave New York at 0 A. 3f. 12 noon and 7 P. M., (Pittsburg Express arriving at Ilarristotrg ut 2A. M.) Leave Philadelphia at 5.15 A. M., and 3;30 P.M. • Sleeping ears in the New York Express Trains, through to and from Pittsburg, otthont change. ' Passengers by the Catawis.a Railroad leuve Ta. magus at 850 A. 31., soul 2.10 P. M. for Philadelphia, Yew York, and all Way Points. Trains leave Pottsville at 9.15 A. M. and 2.30 P.M , for Philadelphia. Harrisburg and New York. An Acconimmlation Passeng e r train leaves Read ing at 6.00 A. M., and returns from Philadelphia at 5.00 P. 51. All the above trains run daily, Sundays ex cepted. A Sunday train leaves Pottsville at 7.33 A. 31., and Philadelphia at 3,13 P. M. • Commutation, Mileage, Season, and Excursion Tiek.ets at red teed rates to and from all points. 50Pounds Baggage allowed citeh pa.senger. A. NICOLI,S, General Simeriutendent. asap.-:,-18G4 MED 132131% Columbia twin, it "l 5 A. M. eel' a. Accommodation, 1 5.7) I'. :$l. (to connect with Fast Maiteast, at Lan cas'r) Harrisburg Accomodation, ti 501'. M. Trains leave west, • Ma it trian, 11 45 A. M. Harrisburg Accomo(lation, 050 I'. M. Columbia train arrives. 820 " E. IC. 110 ICE, Ticket Agent. •READING AND COLUBIBIA R. P. Fast Line leaves Cora. 2 le P. M Arrives at Reading, 4 21 do Fast Line leaves Reading, It 10, A. M Arrives at Columbia, 130, P. M .Al.l trains connect with thoPenua. R. R at Landisville, going east and west. R.' CRANE, Supt. "N.^ C. ILASTAVAILY. YORK, AND R The trains front Wrightsville and York will run as follows, until further orders: Leave Wrightsville, 7 30 A. M. 100P.NL 4' 64 Leave York id .Departure and 'Arrival of the Passenger Trains at York. DEPARTURES FROMYORK. '•For-Bsurruona, 4.15 A. M., &30'A. M., and 2.50 P. N. For 11,tnntsinnto, 11.55 A.'M. 0.10 P. M. and 12.25 A. M, ARRIVALS AT YORK. From Baurotons, 11.50 A. M., 6.15 P. M. and 12.2.2 A. M. From Hwasisauito, 4.10 A. M., 8.25 A. M., and 2:45 P. M. On Sunday, the only trains running are the one from Ifarrisbu rg at 8.25 1 n the morn ing, proceeding to Baltimore, and the one -Cross Baltimore at 12.22 A. M., proceeding to ELtuTisburg. 'DR. TIOFFER, TIENTIST.—OFFICE, Front Street next day to R, Williams' Drug Store, between Locitutt and Walnut sts, Cola., Pa. Apr. . U. B. ;ESSICK., ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, . : reomm“..ik, DRESS GOODS! NEW Stock just received. We halve some &dip bargains. S BOWERS, Opposite Odd Follows' EAY 11t11, Cora, Pa. Noventber, 2 l3, 1863. - • 3M. A. S. SULX.33B; ITEGEON DENTIST, offers his profes -10 dolma services to the citizens of Colum bia and. vicinity. `OFFICE on Front street, fourth door above Locust, office formerly occupied by J. Z. Hoffer. - Columbia, Dec. 19, 1863.-ly. lEi. XL NONE'S, ATTORNEY LFD COUNSELLOR ST L 4 Colaml)la } Pa. Collections promptly made in Loncamter Yoik vonntlem. ' Cola., July 4, ISM SAVE YOUR MONEY. BY Purchailing the'hestiloots and Shoes at the lowest cash prices, at the New Store: or Cora,mar.lll,'6l. . MALTBY Et: CASE .„ .WANTED. trrERY ONE to know' that the way to Amite motley, In to boy your goodnat the Cheap Store or Maltby dr, cane. A general assortment or Spring Ganda but received. Cora-nhar.l9. MALTBY dc CASE: F.l.ltllLir GROCERIES. • EPINED Sninan and S,yrupa. PelKte _Lime Coffee,,, Teas, Spieen, Dried Fruit, English and Arneriesus Piekehi,..tr. Aust. !ooebred by . MEN Rl' SUYDAM. Cor. of Colon A FeetrOSt 4corp..ptar.s-411. e . . . ,_.,_ , ....., . . ' - . . -e'" z' i. . i --: . . . : ii 4,-. 1; i. " ' .)- . , . .. . . ' '" . . - ' -.._ . T. d . I : ":._ : --,,, - piy.. - -„_. „..,...„„,.. .. ... . .i. ... . .: . .. . MI !~ FIB TREE Till CORDIAL Is The Vital Principle of the Pine Tree, ()STAINED by a peculiar process in the crib° tar, by which its high est medical properties are retained, Rave rog a anygh! Have You a Sore Throat!. , Have you any ofthepremopi tory symptoms of that most fatal disease, Con sumption ? Those who should be warned by these symptoms generally think. Lightly of them until it is too late. From this fact, perhaps more than any other, arises the sad prove, fence and fatality of disease which sweeps to the grave at least "one sixth" of dcn2h's victims. Consumption has destroyed more of the human family than any other disease, and the best physicians for many years have despaired of acure, ora remedy thatwould heal the lungs, but for more than two hun dred years the whole medical world has been impressed thatthere wasa mysterious power and efficiency in the Pine Tree Tar to heal the lungs; therefore they have re commended the use of Tar Water, which in many:cases had a good ettect; but how to combine the medical properties so as to heal the lungs, has ever been a mystery until It was discovered by Dr. L. Q. C. WISHART, of Philadelphia, Pa., the pro prietor of "Wlshart's Pine Tree Cordial." Many, not only of the people, but phys icians of every school and practice, arc dally asking mo "What is the principle or cause of your success in the treatment of Puimo nary Consumption ?" My a n swer is this : The invigoration of the digestive organs --the strengthening of thedebilitated system —the purification and enrichment of the blood, must expel from the system the cor ruption which scrofula. breeds. Whileth is is effected by the powerful alterative (clang ing from disease to health) properties of the Tar Cordial, its healing and renovating principle Is also acting upon the irritated surfaces of the lungs and throat, penetra ting to melt diseased part, relieving pain, subduing indamation, and restoring a healthfultendenty. Let thistwo-foldpow er, the healing and the strengthening, con tinue to /la in conjunction with Nature's consOtutt recuperative tendency, and the patient is saved, if ho has not too long de layeda resort to the means of cure. I ask all to read the following chi iticates. They arts from men and women of unques tionable worth tout reputation Dn. WlstrAwr—Dear Sir! Mod n very (Insulin] cough and sore throat for one year and toy whole systeill was fast giving way, and I was prostrated on my bed - with but little hope of recovering. My disease Willed the power• of all medicines, and in not rest until site went to your store, No. 10 N. Second street, and refitted my case to you; purchased one bottle of your Pine Tree Tar Cordial, nnd•l momenced to use it, and in one week I wits much better; and after• using three bottles, I am - perfectly well; and a wonder to all my_ friends. for they all prononneed me past care. Pub lish toy ease if von think proper. ItEDECCA HAMILTON, No. 3112,1 Wylie street, Philadelphia. Ai LROA.D. Dr. Wishart74 MAO Tree Tar Cordial 5s an inalliableeure for Bronekitia, Bleeding of the Lnngs, Sore Throat and areast, In dentation of the Lun),,s. Mr. Ward says: Dn. Wtsturcr—Sir : I had Bronchitis, Infinmation of the Bungs, Shortness of Breath, and Palpitation of the Heart in their worst forms ; I had been treated by several 'of the most eminent physicians in Philadelphia, but they could not stop the rapid course of my disease, and I had de spaired of ever helm; restored to health.— I WAN trudy on the verge of the grave. Your Pine Tree Tar Cordial was highly recom mended to me by a friend ; I=l4l it, and am thankful to say that, after using four large, and one small bottle, I was restored to perfect health. You can give reference to my house, No. 908 N. Second street; or at my (Alice. of Receiver of Taxes. from 9 et m. to 2p. tn., corner of Chefuutand Sixth streets. JOHN WARD. 730 P. M. 6 30 A. M. 12 10 P. M. 4 30 P. M. Rend the following from 'Utica: DR. Wrstr...t.u.T—Dear Sir: I take plena ure in Informing von through this source that your Pine Tree Tar Cordisl, which was recommended for my daughter by Dr. J. A. Hall, of this city, has cured her of a cough of more than dye months' standing. I had thought her beyond cure, and had employed the best of medical aid without any benefit. I can cheerfully recommend it to the public as a .ffafe and mn•e remedy for those attunedy afflicted, es I know of many other cases besides that of my daugh ter that it has entirely cured of long stand ing coughs. Yours respectfully, JOHN V. PARK 1:11, Daugerrean Artist 126 Oenessee St., Utica. • • • • • I have used Dr. 'Wisbart's Pine Tree Tar Cordial In my family, and can cordially remonmend it as a valuable and safe medicine for colds, coughs, and those predisposed to oonsumption. Dr. G. A. FOSTER., IGO Genessee St. The above are a few among the thous ands which this great remedy has saved from an untiinely grave. We have thousands of letters from pliyal duns and druggists who have prescribed and sold the Tar Cordial, saying that they have never used or sold a medicine which gave such universal satisfaction. Tho Tar Cordial, when -taken in connec tion with Dr. Wishart's Dyspepsia Pills, is an infallible, cure forDyspeptla. The PLICE TREY: TAR CORDIAL will cure Coughs, Sore Throat and Breast, Bron chitis, Asthma, Whooping Cough, Dlpthe rin, and is all also an excellent remedy for the diseamesof tam kid trya,and female coin plainh4. BEWARE COI±NTERFEITS. The genuine has the name of tho propri etor and n Pine Tree blown in tho bottle. .1.11 others are spurious imitations. Prim Fifty Cents and One DoMir per Mot tle. Preparedonly by the Proprietor, Va. 10 NORTH SECOXD Street, .P/iihider - • phta rensexylvaxics. • Sold byDragglata everywhere, at Whole axle by all Philadelphia and New York Wholemale-Druggiete. ~.assinlek-'44-1, . • . . DR. WISHARTS' DR. 1... Q. C. NYLSIIART. "NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CHEAP •AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 2 1 1864. lostrff. Written for the Columbia To a Friend. \WILLIE IV-1.11.E Lady, I bow me down Low before thy shrine, Oh, listen to this tribute, This humble song of mine, I'd weave a laurel crown Around thy brow to twine, I'd have thy name be praised In glorious song divine. I know that sorrow's wing Ihtth fanned thy noble brow, I know that grief's enthroned Within thy heart e'en now, Bet oh, the world, the world Will yet give thee thy due, And flowers of peace and joy Thy earthly way will strew. The clouds will part above, And sunbeams bright and fair, Will softly steal between, To drive away thy care. The world will humbly bow Before thy genius' shrine, And for thy noble brow The laurel wreath will twine. Oh, then thou wilt look back Upon the rugged wa., That thou host trod when clowns That bright and glorious day. And proudly wilt thou feel, To know thy noble heart, Despaired not when the days Seemed cheerless, lone and dark Go out and gather flowers Of genius for thy brow, Thy name is known to fame • And glory bright e'en now. Thy trust is in yon heaven, Thy heart is true and pure, Go on—the end is nigh— But now—success is sure. ,Wrltten, for Om Colombia Spy THE Ivy EVA ALICE Raffling drums, and bugles sounding! To arms ! to arms! o'er Mills resounding, Horses eager for the fray, Men to action haste away ; Like the storm on yonder sea Sweeps the light artillery, Scabbards rattle, bayonets gletun— Soon with human blood to ,strearn. ••• #4, 1 , 7-ri From our noble chieftain there, Fly the coursers, lil-rbt as air ; Each division ready stand— Waiting their Chiefs command; Now the booming cannon speak, Flying shells in fury shriek, The battle-shout aseendeth For Liberty,—men - freely die. To tit' charge! the shrilly bugle's sound,— Charge! charge! clarion notes re-sound ; O'er friend and foe, o'er fallen dead,— Earth trembles 'nestle the mighty tread,;-. The muskets roar, the bayonets clash, The Hying war steeds madly dash;— Our comrades fall—our brothers die ; But shouts of Victory—rend the sky. irrightal. For tho Columbia. Spy, IRENE; -OR iii:1431A1M4:10:01 A STORY . OF LOVE Sc TREACHERY I==l BY FINLEY JOUNSON. Arthor of "The Outcast Daughter," "-thee St. John," "'Fannie Ntowbray," "The Or . phans," "The Drunkard's Daughter." I===l CHAPTER XV. The evil passions that had been evok ed in the breast of Rackets, the dying gipsy, on the information that Henry Handy had striven to sacrifice himalon P ” • with Charles, were quite sufficient indi cation of his willingness to give important information regarding the proceedings of Henry ; and although that information would have gone for small account, had Charles been believed still to be guilty, yet, now, that his innocence was affirmed, it would - weigh heavily in the scale as against Henry Handy. But Marshal Hand was as anxious AS possible for the capture of Henry, and be approached Rackets, and spoke to him, firmly, but kindly. "I fancy that your wound is not mor tal, and you may depend upon every care being taken of yqu. I will leave one lb my men with you, while another goes for the surgeon. I have sueh work to do yonder, as will prevent me from listening to anything you have to say." "No, no," said Rackets. "Yet a mo ment. My hours are numbered. lam dying." Marshal Hand looked impatient. "Do not—oh, do not," added Haekets, "fancy that you are loosing time. He has escaped as far as he can, or will es. cape. Even now I seem to see him. The villian 1 Henry alone is guilty. He is the mysterious highwayman. He it was who murdered William Stoops. Ho is guilty, guilty, guilty I" "IVe have no doubt of that, but you and the other giincies helped him." • "The tribe worked for hint and with him -That cannot be denied, for he is one of qui." • "Of your tribe ?" "Yes,yelt Slaybias. . Seize bint,aud stay him. I bum,. that it would come to this. I seemed even to see it, and now ithas come, and the hand of death is upon me. Oh, fool, fool I To do his work, while he was preparing for me the gal lows ! I ought to have known it, I ought to have seen it. .And now—now all is lost—night—night has come." Irene now knelt by the side of the dy ing gipsy. It had ocoured to her, that he might, by a word, solve the doubt that had attempted to be implanted in her mind by Myra in regard to the real par entage of Charles. "Tell me," she said, gently, "tell me, now that words of truth arc upon your lips, are Charles and Henry brothers ?" "No." "No !" Oh, heaven I" ~ .. "Hush, hush I I heard her. That is false." "False ? That—that false that Myra told me ?" Rackets made an impatient movement with his hand, and then uttered the name of Lance Sold. "Of whom do you speak?" inquired Marshal Hand. "Who is this Laneefield you mention?" "His father." "Whose father ? Whose ?" It was too late ! The spirit of the gipsy had fled, and with those two words was his last in this world, Rackets was no more. Irene, and Charles, and Marshal Hand looked at each other fora few sec onds in silence, and then Charles said : "This information is either too much or too little ; and yet it comes to me with a glow of hope that I am not really that man's brother." It was at this moment that the remain der of Marshal Hand's party, which had come by the regular road, and not over the meadows. as he and Charles and the few men with them came, reached the spot, and it was a great satisfaction to Irene to see Saul seated on one of the hor ses behind one of the police. "All's right now, Miss," said Saul.— "Why it's as good as a play." Marshal Hand now spoke rapidly.— Ile had been reflecting. "Mr. Charles," said be, ,"the best thing is for you to go to my house in Columbus, and take Miss Irene with you. I shall have a great deal to do down here, for all the Gipsies must bo arrested." "Be it so," replied Charles. "There is so much of mystery iu what has occur red that I feel like one in a dream. Come dear Irene, let us go, and let my Ara care Imito ‘ l 3lilear inothar," i4a7d fr"ene y. "she is still atyour farm. She may have had doubts; dear love, of your innocence, but she will now rejoice." "I feel assured she will, my darling.— We will go, then, first to your mother." "Yes, dear Charles." Flow it shook the heart of that poor Charles, when the girl he loved called him by pet names. There was so much of heaven in it, he almost wept for joy. And, now the little party moved on towards the camp of the gipsies, and the farm house 'occupied by Charles and Hen ry, which, for a considerable distance lay both on the same route, so that Irene and Charles were well escorted by the Mar shal and his party. The Marshal was in earnest conversation with his chief officer, who was the same man, 'who had aided in the search for evidence against Charles. "This Henry Hancry;•will take to earth like a fox," said Davis. "You mean he will hide ?" "No doubt of it, sir. It's easy to post men about the country.so he can't steal away, and then-he mast he hunted up." "Where will he hide ?" At this moment a turn in the road brought them all freely in view of Mount Hope, standing up cold and vast against the morning air, and it seemed as if the huge pile of buildings had itself giren a practical reply to the question of Marshal nand. "There, sir, if anywhere," said Davis "Very good. Simmons!" "Yes, Marshal." "Bide back to head quarters and get together all the men that can be spared, and bring them down here. r hope soon to fathom all these mysteries. Your eyes are good, Davis, what do you seeyonder ?" ".1 n the hollow, garshal—by the little stream ?" "Yes, yes." "Why it's the gipsies on their march with bag and bag,gage, air. There they go " Marshal nand considered for a few mo ments, and then said : "It is better as it is. Let them go.— They arc easily dealt with as long as they keep together, than as if, with our pm cut small force, they were scattered over the country, for if we were to eharne on them, you may depend that caeli man would take a different direction." "Just so, sir." "Place your men, then, on the look-out, to se s that this villian Henry Handy, does not leave the neighborhood, and let one man, well disguised, hang on track of the gipsies." _ It was evident that some sulttile plan of action was in the mind of Marshal Hand, fur he turned abruptly to Charles, as he said : "I think I will go with yon, Charles, if it will • prove agraeable. Rush I—do not look far away to the right." "Not look ?" "No. I see some one, Whose presence hero is, a sufficient proof of the presence of' lenry—the 'old hag, Myra. She is e. prowling slow , under a hedge a couple of fields away, and making her way to the defile. where the rocks are piled np so strangely. We must nommeta to see her." The movement of the giptie,s hadheen acute and singular. A very few words will suffice to put the reader in posession the tactics which was laid down by Myra for guidence, when it was found that Irene had fairly escaped, their ven geance. It was, after all, only Rackets, Myra and Henry Handy, who could fairly be implicated to the extent of actual identi fication in the abduction of Irene, so that if they were to keep out of the way, there would be little or no difficulty in the rest of the tribe escaping scathless. Thus, was it then, that Myra gave orders for the tents to be struck, and for the gipsies to slowly march from the spot where they had encamped. so long, while she sought a hiding place about Mount Hope, with Henry Handy, until the pursuit should be over. Rackets, they considered, was rluite capable of taking care of himself. They knew his resources and ability, and as he, had orders to meet them at a particular spot after night-fall, they left him to carry them out, for they never expected that, in his pursuit of Irene, he would meet with the fate he had. And now, while Marshal Hand made his dispositions to surround Mount Hope, Charles and Irene make their way rapidly to the farm, accompanied by Saul, who by his courage and faithiiilness had be come dear to them. A deep gloom hung over the little farm, for death was a resident of one of the lower rooms. There lay the- body of William Stoops, as it had been brought from the field in which it had been placed by the farm laborers, when they brought it on the hurdle from the meadow where it had been found. The few servants that had been kept by the brothers Han dy abstained, with superstitious fear, from going near that room, and the body was supposed to be awaiting the coroner's in quisition, which was on that day to take place. Marshal Hand took leave of Irene and Charles at the gate leading to the flower garden, and as he pressed the hand of the latter, he said : "Of one thing, Mr. Ifandy, be assur ed—that all is for the best in the world. I have seen enough of it to be convinced of that philosophy.; and out of all these misfortunes that-have oecured to you— you may be assured, will spring much, happiness." —V . ou are kind to say So, sir. Let me hope that if you make any new discover ies, you-will send, for tue.' .~:. lat Lott to' you in t n °lva go, of your troubles. • "Alt, yes," said Charles, with a look of deep affection nt Irene—"a consolation that I feel myself unworthy of, and which I shall ever be thankful to heaven for granting me." "I did not mean that," s id the' Mar shal, "although I agree with you. What I meant to allude t.. - was the fact, which I think you may take for granted, that Henry is not your brother, but a villian with whom you can have no concern or sympathy." ' "That, indeed, sir, is a blessed thought. But in regard to it, I am amazed, for I over associated with him as a brother, and believed him to be such, and that we were the sous of the late owner of Mount Hope. There is yet some terrible mystery to un ravel." "There is, indeed, but I do not think it is one that will, or need, terrify you?? Marshal Hand then took a smiling leave of the lovers, and they entered the garden together. A feeling of deep &Ici ness came over Irene as they neared the house, for she could not forgot, amid all the distracting and exciting scenes she had passed through, th.tt there lay her poor murdered father. "Charles," site said, sadly, "if, my father, had but been in life, how happy he would have been in my happiness. "Yes, dear, but he is happy now." "You are right, dear love. Why should Ibe so selfish If a word of mine would bring him back, ought 1 to utter it ? Oh, no, no." They entered the house by a pretty porch all over-run with roses, and the moment they reached the hail beyond it, Irene uttered a cry of alarm, for the first object that presented itself to her washer mother lying as if dead, on the floor, partly within the doorway of the room in which her father had been carried, and partly in the hall. It would appear that either on entering or leaving that room, some sort of a swoon had conic over her. "Oh, help ! help !" cried Irene. "Am I to loose both the dear parents who hare loved me so truly, so tenderly ? Oh, Charles, how desolate I should now be without you. Mother, dear mothei,speak to me—oh, try to speak to me, if it be but a word, to tell me That this is bat some passing indisposition." Irene threw herself upon her knees by the side of her mother, who, in another nionrent, was raised in the arms of Chas. It was then, with a deep sigh, that the poor woman opened her eyes, and looked anxiously about her. "A delusion—only a delusion, " she said faintly. "What - is a delusion, mother? Speak a.ntin. What is itl" o "Your father. Where.ant I?" "Here, dear mother, what has happen ed ?" Mrs. Stoops shuddered. "Is he there now 2" '•Who ?—who ? Of whom do you speak ?" inquired Charles. - "That room—go into it. Toll tno-1 must have been taken ill, and only La thed heirs& gone." "Gonoa gone r One moutout. Sit theta, Ma. &topic. Place your arms around her, Irene." $1,50 PER YEAR 31' ADVANCE; $2,50 IP NOT PAID IN ADVANCE. Charles seated Mrs. Stoops in the hall, and while she was supported ,by Irene, he at once made_ his way into the room, where farmer Stoops had been laid, but what was his astonishment to find the couch on which he had been placed, Uh -1 tenanted, and a trace of the dead body in the place. One of the windows was open, and there was the blind fluttering in the morning air, but how the body had been removed, or by whom, remained for the present an in scrutable mystery. In a moment or two —for it took no longer to convince Chas. that the body was not there—he again sought the little hall of the homestead, add in reply to the anxious looks of Irene, he mid "It is useless, dear love, 'to conceal from you what you can ascertain for your self in an instant. Your father's body has been removed." "Removed !" "Yes dear. Do not alarm yourself.— There is but one person who can have any interest in his removal, and that is his murderer Failing to produce the body, the assassin, I believe, cannot be convicted." ".Heaven have mercy upon us," said Mrs. Stoops. "Not only are those so deriV'te us deprived of life, , buttheir poor remains are taken from us. Oh, Charles! Charles ? if you indeed can have ought to do with this fearful deed—" "3lother," said Irene, "I cannot—l will not hear you speak thus. Charles is innocent. Enough, and more than enough, has been producedi to render his innocence as clear as the daylight. Do not, oh, do not, dear mother, accuse him even of tv thought. It is Henry who has done the deed, and who is now a fugitive front justice ; but not for long. Mother, my dear Charles is not only innocent, but he No, no, I cannot praise you Charles, even to my mother. I can bet say that - I am your own Irene, for: ever and ever and pray God to bless you There is too much truth and' sincerity iu Irene's words and manner for her mother to doubt any longer: A faint flush of color came to her cheek, as she said: . . "Charles, can you forgive me ".?" ' "On one condition, 'was the' reply, "and that is, that you will look upon me as a loving son, and never allude a,,mainsto• even paining the by mentioning that you once doubted me." "But on know,' Oharle's 'that I heard be my excuse." ' "Say no more, mother, say no more," said -Irene. "All that is past now. I think you must be right, Charles, and. that Henry and his comrades have stolen the body 'of rey poor father." "Go to your own_ room, Mrs. Stoops," said Charles, and you, too, my dear Irene. I will soon bring' you news on that head." "But you will not run into any dan ger, Charles ?" said Mrs. Stoops. "It is the living we must. cherish. The dead are in heaven." "Now, dear mother," said Irene, as she heard the kind aneffeetionate tones in which these words were addressed to her lover-now,dear mother, - I know you again, and you feel that my Charles is innocent, and can rejoice in his affec tion for your child." Poor Mrs. Stoops, whose mind had been mach enfeebled by the awful shock of her husband's murder, wept abundant ly, and Charles with a look of love to Irene, left the . house to make what in quiries were possible in regard to the mysterious disapperance'of the body of farmer Stoops. Upon gaining the little garden, the first thing that ho heard was the hasty tramp of a horse on the roadway beyond, and then halted close to the palings one of the mounted police, who called out : "Oh, Mr. Charles • Handy; I have a note for you 'from Marshal Hand. He told um to ride fast with it." Charles took the note, and the man galloped off, and on opening it he found the following words: "Nfr Diu Sin:--Meet me to-night, one hour after sunset, at the corner oftheVour Acre Lame. I think we shall make some Important discoveries, and unravel some mysteries, if we are discreet and secret. Yours, ever. WALTER IiANTD." It was evident from the tenor of this note that the Marshal was carrying out some plan which he hoped would, with Charles assistance, bring affairs to a sat isfactory crisis; and Charles waited with great impatience for the night to come in order that he might profit by the suges tion that had been made to him. Ile knew the place well that the note spec ified, and as there w3ald be but a late moan that night, ho felt assured that ono hour after sunset that the darkness would be quite sufficient to screen both him and the Marshal from observation. The minutest inquiry among the ser vants and laborers at the farm, brought no intelligence concerning the removal of the body—not a sound had been heard during the night, nor bad any light been seen, but yet Charles knew the dexteri ty by which the gipsies carried out their schemes, and he had no doubt at all in his mind, bat that, at the instigation of' lienry, they had obtained possession of the body, in order to prevent the inquest from taking plaao, which would now have gene far to criminate Henry. Uo eonsltiering, Chariest. thought it would only bo adding to the anxieties of Irene and her mother if be should show them Marshal Hand's tiote,andiet them know that he was bound that night upon au expedition in . whieh' there ruled, -be danger; so•be mid notbitirabotat lug the day, And when the dim shadcnrs of evening begin t 3 spread overtire farm., [WHOLE NUMBER 1,763- he persuaded Irene - and' her'inOtheilO' : leave the garden and bite the house, saying with as much* unconcern as :lte could assume.: "I have a call or two to make on some neighbors, and shall take great care of myself, and be back as sotn as I can,but if at a late hour, I shall find myself near er Columbus then home, I shall go there and spend the night with Marshal Hand." Irene looked in his eyes,-and ihe.sivr that he had a something: on his 'mind that he would not communicate. ,Sho did not ask him what it was, but she pressed his bands, as she said "Maven preserve my dear Charles." [CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.] "Any Letter For Me Today ?" The Speaker, a soft-voiced, paleface& woman beat eagerly forward, with anx ious expectancy legibility written in her sad eyes and quivering lips, awaiting the reply which had invariably accompanied, her inquiry, for many consecutive-days. - No letter to-day—"ol she murmured, I where is my boy ? Perchance he is ly-, ing on the battle field, wounded or, even dying,'while the crimson life-tide is • biug fast away ; but I will hope for the best, and there will surely be a letter to morrow." Thus hope ever sustains the , sorrowing heart; and amid all the trials , and disapointmenti of to-day, she points with eager finger to the great to-morrow. "Any letter for me to-day?" It was - the same sad voice, which had, haunted the Clerk for many days, and ho hasten-, ed to reply quite cheerfully, "yes Madam your letter has come at last.' "0 give it to me quick," and a smile lightened her worn features; but suddenly . :the light all died out of her face, as she stood., for a moment looking at the strange ,; writing, as we look on the face of a hived friend, who went forth in the morning '• buoyant with life happiness, and is borne ' back at cold and dead ; then with trembling fingers eagerly , tore it open.-- t It was very short, it ran thus,: y ,;. DEAR MOTIER—WO are, preparing for another •battle , , and I take st few moments in the midst otpreparation: to write. you:n. little note, for I fool that I may never see you again. .But be comforted Mother, for "--; if I fall it will be in defence afinv country. t: I aad hoped to•see yeti again'; but I fear that it cannot be, yet I feel Year. prosenoii . near me even while I write. Good bye dar ling Mother. Do not grieve for me when - I am gone. . , - Pour baying son.- f-; NlinezfroilLirbia4ariz• IMS That A i 1 1 ,0 , 1: ,0 , , ,114 4.74 bravely, and when the daYma;dimp, they found hint lying." cold and ddad en thze battle field, a gentle smile wreathing .his finoly eat lips; and how - his •:comradeS took him up tenderly, and, laid hinr-to, rest under the blue skies of, 'ennessee.-- So ended his bright dream of life. In oue of our many hospitals iithatbe reeved Mother. No step is so light, no hand so soft as hers, as she smooth.es,the ' pillow of the dying, and speaks wards of . comfort to the young soldier,ivho reminds her so much of her lost darling; while ' many rough henitinvokes bleasm..l for' the gentle nurse who, passes among thou like a ministering angel.— Union.Banp.cr, Chicago. On Their Last Legs. All the fighting men of the Vonfeder'.. acy, says the Pittsburg Dispaide are al ready in its armies, and four-fifths of them are with Lee and Johnston. , Neither the army defending Richmond nor that defending Atlanta can be materially re inforced except by the transfer of troops• from one to the other, which wonldhe a' disaster in itself. The wear and sear produced by.disease and battle will hence-, ibrth continuo to diminish the effective strength of those armies., They must of necessity be largely reduced in numbers , 1 this summer, and no merciless conscrip tion, hereafter can avail to make good their losses. To-day much stronger than the armies of the rebellion, their numeri cal strength can be maintained, if -neat seq., by further calls for 'volunteers or a resort to the draft. Hence, in six months or a year, if not, in six weeks, as we. all confidently expect, the rebellion can and., will be reduced to a jelly by the mare . force of physical strength. • • Again : Richmond and Atlanta taken, the hopes of the rebels are crushed for-, ever. There hearts will sink within thou They will sue for peace. The leaders . will not be able to keep their diseentei ted conscripts longer under, subjectioti; and the rebellion will fall to pieces -from sheer want of cohesion. - • t Will Richmond and Atlanta- fall, They may not to-morrow or'next'day, but they will ere these summer months grill. Oar two mighty armies under Grant' and Sherman are destined to end this " gruel war." There will yet be _fierce, battles fought, but with every battle the rebel= lion will pour out its life-blood.". Bor. Help Your Notkorro:' We hare seen from two: to six groat hearty boys sitting by the kitchen store, toasting their fact, and;cracking nuts or jokes, while their mother, a - sletideesio tuan,.hasgone to the wood pile for wood - , to the well for water, or to the meat house to cut a frown steak for dinner. Thisie not as it should be. There is ranch work Ovate house too hard for women. Heavy lifting, hard extra 'steps which should he done. by these - more able. Boys, - don't let your mother do it all, especially ifshe is a feeble woman.-; Dell, prosy home work *irksome enough : at best. Itis along work, - too, =tho=ng impossible„ to tell:When it ja'quite done, and Vim! on the morrow the whole is to be gone eves with again.. There is more of it than one is, apt to think.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers