TERMS OF PUBLICATION.
THE BEDFORD GAZETTE is published every Fri
dy morning by METERS A Mewsel, at $2 00 per
annum, if paid strictly m advance ; $2.50 if paid
withia six months; $3.00 if not paid within six
months. All subscription accounts MUST be
settled annually. No paper will be sent out of
the State unless paid for IN ADVANCE, and all such
subscriptions will invariably be discontinued at
the expiration of the time for which they are
paid.
All ADVERTISEMENTS for a less term than
three months TEN CENTS per line for each In
ertion. Special notices one-half additional All
'esolutions of Associations; communications of
imited or individual interest, and notices of mar
-iages and deaths exceeding five line?, ten cents
er line. Editorial notices fifteen cents per line.
All legal Notices of every kind, and Orphans
Court and Judicial Sales, are required by taw
to be published in both papers published in this
place.
$y All advertising due after first insertion.
A liberal discount is made to persons advertising
by the quarter, half year, or year, as follows :
3 months. 6 months. 1 year.
♦One square - - - $l5O $6 00 $lO 00
Two squares -- - 600 900 16 00
Three squares --- 800 12 00 20 00
Quarter column - - 14 00 20 00 o5 00
Half column - - - 18 00 2o 00 45 00
One column - - - - 30 00 45 00 80 00
♦One square to occupy one inch of space.
JOB PRINTING, of every kind, done with
neatness and dispatch. TflE GAZETTE OFFICE has
just been refitted with a Power Press and new type,
and everything in the Printing line can be execu
ted in the most artistic manner and at the lowest
rates.—TERMS CASH.
All letters should be addressd to
MEYERS A MENGEL,
Publishers.
Dry-6oods(,
JG AVE YOUR GREENBACKS !!
You can SAFE 25 per cent, by purchasing your
GOODS at the CHEAP BARGAIN S TORE of
G. R. & W. OSTER,
BEDFORD, PA.
They are now opening a large and handsome as
sortment of NEW and CHEAP DRY-GOODS,
Reaety-Made Clothing, Carpet, Cotton Yatn.i,
Hats, Boots and Shoe*, Sun-Umbrellas, Para
sols, Groceries, Queensware, Tobaccos and Ci
gars, Wall Papers, Wooden-ware, Brooms, i\c.
LOOK AT SOME OF THEIR PRICES :
Best styles DELAiNES, 221 and 25 cts.
CALICOES, 9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, 20 cts.
GINGHAMS, 12, 15, 20, 25 cts.
MUSLINS, 9, 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 22, 25 cts.
CASSIMERES, 75, 85, 115, 125, 150, 165 cts.
LADIES 6-4 SACKING, $1.65, 1.75, 2.00,
alt wool.
DRILLING and PANTALOON STUFFS,
20, 25, 30, 35 cts
GENTS• lIALF-HOSE, 10,12, 15, 20, 25, 30,
35 cts.
LADIES' HOSE, 121, 18, 20, 25, 30, 35 cts.
LADIES' SHOES as low as 90 cts.
Good Rio COFFEE, 25 cts.; better, 28 cts.;
best, 30 cts.
Extra fine OOLONG. JAPAN. IMPERIAL
and YOUNG HYSON TEAS.
SUGARS and SYRUPS, a choice assort
ment.
MACKEREL and HERRING, late caught,
fat fish.
We invite all to call and see for themselves.
A busy store and increasing trade, is a telling
fact that their prices are popular.
Terms CASK, unless otherwise specified.
may24m3.
MEW GOODS!! NEW GOODS!!
The undersigned has just received from the East a
large and varied stock of New Goods,
which are now open for
examination, at
MILL-TOWN,
two miles West of Bedford, comprising everything
usually found in a first-class country store,
consisting, in part, of
Dry-Goods, .
Delaines,
Calicoes,
Muslins,
Cassimers,
Boots and Shoes,
Groceries,
Notions,
'Ac., Ac.
All of which will be sold at the most reasonable
prices.
jy Thankful for past favors, we solicit a con
tinuance ot the public patronage,
jy Call and examine our goods.
may24,'67. G. YEAGER
Jattcy (Etooflis,
NEW FANCY AND MILLINERY
STORE!
UNPARALLELLED ATTRACTION!
MRS. BORDER & CO.,
(at the store lately occupied by Mrs. Cam A Co.)
have just received the best assortment of FANCY,
DRY AND MILLINERY GOODS that has ever
been brought to this place, which they will sell
VERY LOW FOR CASH; consisting, in part, of
Persian Twills,
Wool de Laines,
Pure Mohair Lustres,
de Laines,
-m* Calicos,
Muslins,
White Colored Cambrics,
Sacking Flannels,
Cloth for Sacks, &c. t
Ladies' and Children's Shawls,
NOTIONS, in great variety, Kid, Beaver, Buck,
Silk, Lisle and Cotton Gloves; Lamb's Wool, Me
rino and Cotton Hose, for Ladies and Gentlemen;
Dress Buttons and Trimmings, in great variety,
Paper and Linen Cuffs and Collars for ladies and
gents; Worsted and Cotton Braiding, Braids, Vel
vet Ribbons, black and bright colors, Crape Veils
and Silk Tissue for Veils; Hopkins' "own make"
of Hoop Skirts, all sizes ; G W. Laird's Bloom of
Youth, for the complexion, Ac.
MILLINERY GOODS OF ALL KINDS,
consisting of Bonnets, Huts. Ribbons, Laces, Flow
ers, Ac. Millinery work done on short no
tice, in the neatest and latest styles.
Call and see f-<r yourselves before buying
elsewhere. We will show our goods with pleasure,
free of charge. [Bedford, may3m3.)
"VTEW ARRIVAL. —Just received
at M. C FETTERLY'S FANCY STOKE,
Straw Hats and BonDets, Straw Ornaments, Rib
bons Flowers, Millinery Goods, Embroideries,
Handkerchiefs, Bead-trimmings, Buttons. Hosiery
and Gloves, White Goods, Parasols and Sun-Um
brellas, Balmorals and Hoop Skirts, Fancy Goods
and Notions, Ladies' and Children's Shoes. Our i
assortment contains all that is new and desirable.
Thankful for former liberal patronage we hope
to be able to merit a continuance from all our cus
tomers. Please call and see our new stock.
may3l
GAUFCM.
JACOB KBED, | J. J- BCHSLL,
REED AND SCHELL,
Bankers and
DEALERS IN EXCHANGE,
BEDFORD. PA.,
DRAFTS bought and sold, collections made and
money promptly remitted.
Deposits solicited.
RUPP & SHANNON, BANKERS,
BEDFORD, PA.
BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT.
COLLECTIONS made for the East, West, North
and South, and the general business of Exchange
transacted. Notes and Accounts Collected and
Remittanses promptly made. REAL ESTATE
bought and sold. febB
"PRINTERS' INK has made many a
■ business man rich We ask you to try it in
the "olumns of THK GAZBTTI
@ljc tfcbforb ©njcttc.
BY MEYERS & MENGEL.
gry-<Soods, ctt.
GOODS! NEW GOODS!
FOR
SPRING and SUMMER,
18C7.
J M. SHOEMAKER has just re
turned from the East with a large stock of Spring
and Summer Goods, which he has bought
AT REDUCED PRICES
and is now offering CHEAP, AT HIS OLD STAND.
The following comprise a few articles, viz :
Ladies' Dress Goods,
Bleached and
Unbleached
Muslins,
Ginghams,
Calicos,
Bed Ticking,
Checks,
Cloths,
Cassi meres,
Cottonade,
Satinett,
Cotton Chain,
(single & double.)
Hosiery,
Gloves, Ac.
GROCERIES, SPICES. Ac.:
Coffees, Sugars,
Syrups. Molasses,
Salt. Oils,
Teas, Spices, of all kinds.
CEDAR WARE:
Buckets, Tubs, Brooms, Ac.
HATS, for Men and Boys, all sizes and prices.
A large and cheap stock of Men's and Boys,
CLOTHING.
TOBACCO—Natural Leaf. Oronoco, Navy, Con
gress, Black-Fat, Twist, Smoking-tcbacco and Se
gars, Ac.
QUEENSWARE, all kinds.
A large assortment of BOOTS and SHOES, all
sizes ana prices, TRUNKS, Ac.
FlSH—Mackerel, Nos 1, 2, and 3, in bbls, half
bbls., quarter and eighth bbls.
LEATHER—SoIe Leather, French and City Calf
Skins, Kip and Upper Morocco, Ac.
|3P Be sure and call at
J. M. SHOEMAKER S,
apr26,'67. No. 1 Anderson's Row.
gPLENDID
OPENING of
CHEAP
SPRING and
SUMMER
GOODS,
AT
FARQUHAR'S
New Bargain Store,
REED'S BUILDING.
CALICOES, (good) - 12ic.
do (best) - - 18c.
MUSLINS, brown, - - 10c.
do (best) - - 20c.
do bleached, - 10c.
do (best) - - 25c.
DELAINES, best styles, - 25c.
DRESS GOODS
of all kinds
VERY CHEAP.
MEN'S and BOYS'
COTTONADES,
GOOD and CHEAP.
A large stock of
FANCY
ALL WOOL
CASSI MERES
ASTONISH
INGLY
CHEAP.
BOOTS
AND
SHOES.
MEN'S
AND
BOYS'
HATS.
GROCERIES:
Best COFFEE, - - 30c
Brown SUGAR - from 10 to 15c
FISH :
Mackerel and Potomac Herring.
QUEENSWARE
and a general variety of
NOTIONS.
Buyers are invited to examine
our stock as we are determined to
to sell cheaper than the cheapest.
J. B. FARQUHAR.
mayl7
T> H. SIPES' MARBLE WORKS.
R. H. SIPES having established a manu
factory of Monuments, Tombstones, Table-Tops,
Counter Slabs, Ac., at Bloody Run, Bedford coun
ty, Pa., and having on hand a well selected stock
of Foreign and Domestic Marble, is prepared to fill
all orders promptly and do work neat and in a
workmanlike style, and on the most reasonable
terms. All work warranted. Jobs delivered to
all p .rts of this and adjoining counties without ex
tra charge. aprl9,'66yl
LETTER HEADS AND BILL
HEADS, and ENVELOPES for business men,
Jnnted in the best style of the art, at THE GAZETTE
oa OFFICE
lit? 'fcfftf.
AN OLD 31 AID'S STORY.
lam old now. The gray indications
of age surround my wrinkled brow and
decrepit form. At times lam peevish
and fretful bewailing my lot, and wish
ing that my days were ended; then
a sweet reminiscence of the past sweeps
over me, and inspires me with rever
ence. Though lam an old maid, there
are things connected with my life
which afford me pleasure to contem
plate.
At the age of eighteen I was left an
orphan. My mother died when I was
quite young; my poor father lingered
a few short years, then, like the fragile
flower, withered and died. Falling
heir to my father's immense fortune, I
was flattered, courted, and admired, by
people of the world—not for myself a
lone, but for my wealth. Well, I
knew that if I were destitute of that
which has power to attract thousands,
my friends would be few. I soon be
came restless, weary, and tired of those
empty flatteries.
At length the tortured brain hit up
on a wild scheme, which I determined
to carry out, spite the expectations of
my maid.
Anastase, my waiting maid, had rela
tives residing in a proportionately large
village, some six miles from W ,
and there I determined to execute my
project. It was a radiantly beautiful
morning in the month of May. The
sweet carol of birds, and the delicious
perfume of the flowers, seemed to add
a balm to my aching heart, and revive
my drooping spirit. 1 was not a phil
anthropist; buton that beautiful morn
ing 1 felt that there were others beside
myself, and that the Creator had not
designed this terrestial universe for me
alone to enjoy. All I now desired was
a true and trusting friend, one whom I
could love, and whose faithfulness the
adversities of life could not shake.
My maid and I stood upon the portico,
literally surrounded by trunks, boxes
and bundles, impatiently awaiting the
arrival of the rustic, lumbering stage
coach. I was completely metamor
phosed, having substituted the plain,
comely traveling dress for my usually
rich apparel. No jewelry adorned my
person; it was my object to appear as
one in ordinary circumstances. At an
abrupt curve in the road a cloud of dust
revealed to my anxious eyes the wished
for conveyance. With the aid of the
porier and coachman, our trunks, Ac.,
were deposited on the top ; and, with a
brief farewell to those at the house, we
were rolling toward our new home.
This caprice of mine was, indeed, re
markably novel. I, the wealthy Anna
D'Haven, daughter and heir of Captain
D'Haven, U. S. N., riding in a country
stage coach ; destination—an old farm
house, where, in order, to find some
one to love me, independent of gold as
a dowry. I had assumed a fictitious
name and become a plain country lass.
What would some of my aristocratic
friends say? First, the old time-worn
barn, then a cluster of freshly painted
comfortable cottages revealed our wish
ed-for destination. It wasthe"dawnof
a new era" tome.
"Miss Howard, I believe," said a
portly old gentleman, advancing to
where my maid and I stood.
It was Anastase's uncle. He had
come to meet us, with the wagon.
"I am she," I answered, slightly
bowing, and, as I gazed upon his round,
genial face, a feeling of friendship was
awakened in my bosom, which I had
never before experienced.
I cannot describe my state of mind as
I rode through that country village. 1
was almost tempted to forego my orig
inal intention. How humiliating it
would be, were it made public, I
thought. My name would be a by-word
to gossips. My reverie was brought
to a close by the termination of our
journey.
"This, then, is to be my temporary
home," said I, looking at the old, an
tique-looking house looming up from
among large and shady willows.
I was introduced to the inmates, and
then Mrs. Williams (a kind, gentle mat
ron of two score and ten—one whom I
shall always remember with a feeling
akin to awe), accompanied me to my
room. After expressing many wishes
and apologies, she said:
"My dear Anna—for such I must call
you—you must make yourself perfectly
at home. Our mode of living is not
grand, but we will do all in our power
to make you comfortable."
"Thank you," I replied, "I shall en
deavor to do so. I am perfectly en
tranced with your rural home. It is so
different from what I pictured it. Ev
erything is so homelike—so inviting."
I had been in my new home two
months—months of bliss to me—and
what changes were wrought in those
two months? I met him—Eugene St.
Clair. Tall, dark and handsome. I
fail to describe him. He remains an
incognito to this day. He seemed cool
and distant to all but me. I met him,
and loved him—loved him as mortal
seldom loves. One night, as we stood
upon the lawn facing the lake, the cres
cent moon shone full upon us, and noth
ing disturbed the stillness but the gem
tie rippling of the water. His hat he
held inpne hand, the other clasped
mine. He was gazing dreamingly in
to my eyes. I could not speak. I was
silently happy.
"Anna," he said, in his low, harmo
nious voice, which sounded like music
to my ear—"Anna, will you be my
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 21, 1867.
wife? Will you link your destiny with
that of a gambler?"
"A gambler!" I gasped, disengaging
myself from him, and gazing with ter
ror into his pallid face.
"A gambler I have been, but I have
renounced that hellish life. I mean to
reform, to make myself worthy of the
name I bear; and all for you because I
love you. It was not my choice, Heav
en knows t'was not! I was driven to
it. I was a spendthrift; became dissi
pated and reckless. My father twice
threatened to discard me. I did not
heed his threat. I became involved in
debt; appealed to my father, promising
to reform, but he ordered me from the
house. There was only one resource
left, and that I adopted. I became a
gambler."
He buried his head iu lis hands and
wept. I could not articjpate a word.
I seemed petrified, fefejects began to
grow dim around me. I staggered, and
would have fallen had he not caught
me in his arms. I left the spot the
affianced bride of Eugene St. Clair.
I was happy and sorrowful alternate
ly, happy in the belief that Eugene
loved me, yet apprehensive of the fu
ture.
We were to be married in three weeks.
I did not know his reason for a hasty,
quiet marriage. I did not inquire.
Whatever Eugene desired, I willingly
assented to. I had implicit faith in his
love.
"Anna, I am compelled to leave you
tor a short time. I have business —bus-
iness of vital importance—which I must
immediately transact; but I shall not
be long absent."
I felt piqued at his not telling me the
nature of his business; but with a single
smile I bade him God-speed. He lift
ed my hand to his lips, and passionate
ly imprinted kisses upon it.
As his form passed from view, there
came a thought to my frivolous mind—
a thought which was destined to blast
my bright hopes and visions. I asked
myself: Why not start for home, and
write to Eugene, asking him to join
me. It would be such a surprise—such
a pleasant surprise—to see him enter
my mansion—stare in bewilderment,
and gaze upon his wealthy affianced
with wonder. I thought 'twould be
delightful. Accordingly I had my
trunks packed, so as to be able to start
on the morrow.
"Mrs. Williams, this evening will
terminate my stay under your hospita
ble roof; an occurrence which I regret
most exceedingly. I shall always re
member the happy rjay.e I have spent
here, and with tears recvUl those bright
faces at the old stone farm-house."
We were sitting on the porch, enjoy
ing the refreshing breeze from the lake.
I noticed the crest fallen look on their
laces as I spoke of departing. I, too,
experienced a poignant pang of regret
at leaving such kind and sympathizing
friends. The kind old lady turned her
beaming face full upon me, and in a
voice husky with emotion said :
"Anna, I takeas much interest in your
welfare as I would in my child's. What
I tell you is for your own good—you
must take no offense. We are about
to part —your path leads one way—mine
another; perhaps we shall never meet
again, in this world. If we should
not, remember what I tell you. You
are about to marry a man of the world,
who, I have no doubt, loves you ; but
whose reputation was so very bad, he
was at one time reckless, dissipated,
and is even now reported to have been
a—a gam bier."
"I learned that from his own lips," I
replied, rather haughtily.
"Yes, my child; but you do not know
the danger into which you are pre
cipitating yourself. I would like to
warn you before it is too late; but—"
"Heaven and earth could not move
me in my resolve. I have as much
faith in that man as I had in my father;
and were he to prove false, I would
not condemn, but pity him."
She made no answer.
But that evening, as I bade her
"good night," she fondly drew me to
her, and fervently pronounced a bless
ing.
The morning dawned radiant and
beautiful. Mrs. Willibrriß greeted me
with a merry "good morning," inquir
ed after my health, and invited me to
partake of a frugal meal she had pre
pared for me. Then came the final
leave-taking, and in a short time I was
on my homeward journey.
I found everything as I had left it at
home. The servants were somewhat
surprised at my unlooked for arrival.
I left Anastase to make all explanations,
and sought my room. Immediately
changed my dusty garments for more
suitable apparel,and proceeded to write
tp my fnture husband. In it I stated
that I wished to see-him concerning
material matters—gave him the neces
sary directions —wrote his address on
the envelope, and placed the note in
my writing desk, intending to send it
on the morrow. It had again become
cloudy, and toward evening the rain
descended in torrents. The hoarse
roaring of the thunder, and the dull
pattering of the rain, did not sound
discordant to my ear. I liked it. It
agreed with my turbulent state of
mind.
I had just finished a book in which I
was deeply interested. The clock tol
led the hour of eleven. I started, rub
bed my eyes, and threw my book on
the table. Time flies on rapid wings,
I thought, and made preparations to
retire. I lay listening to the rain beat
ing against my window, thinking of
my all-absorbing and only love—think
ing of the time when he would place
his arms about me, and call me his lit
tle wife. * And I, too, was performing
a good action. I was rescuing from
the jaws of an untimely grave—from
the yawning gulf of perpetual perdition,
one of God's creatures—one for whom I
would have willingly sacrificed my life.
The clock struck twelve, I turned my
self on my pillow, and tried to com
pose my mind for sleep. I had sunk
into a sweet, dreamy slumber, when I
was awakened by a slight noise too
loud to be caused by the rain, and too
low, I thought, to be made by a human
being. I raised myself in bed, and
peered through the darkness. The
light which I generally kept burning
flickered dimly, casting vague shadows
here and there.
Intent on learning the cause of the
noise which disturbed me, I quickly
arose and approached the window. At
that instant a vivid flash of lightning
illuminated the room, and revealed to
me the window, partly raised. For a
moment I stood irresolute, caused by
reflection that, perhaps, burglars had
attempted to gain an entrance to the
house. The raised window convinced
me that danger was imminent, for I
had securely closed it before retiring.
Before his death, my father had pre
sented me with a small pistol, and this
weapon I always kept under my pillow.
In an instant more I was by the bed
side, and had the pistol in my hand.
I gazed again toward the window; but
oh ! horror! before it stood a man,
masked, and holding in his hand a large
poignard.
I tried to cry out, but my voice failed
me. The next instant I was rudely
seized by the throat and a hoarse voice
hissed in my ear:
"One word, and you die!"
I was frantic with fear. 1 clenched
iny pistol, leveled and fired. His hold
relaxed, he staggered, and fell. I tore
the mask from his face. A flash of
lightning revealed the features of Eu
gene St. Clair. The clock toled one.
My story is told. I feel relieved of
a heavy burden.
Mr. and Mrs. Williams are dead, and
I occupy the old stone farm-house.
There, near the grave of Eugene, I pass
my days. He tried to rob the rich
Anna D'Haven, to marry the poor
Anna Howard. It was his mistake —
my folly.
A llOltKIKI.i: STORY.
A Ship of Death Floats into a Port of the
Shetland Islands.
Since the time when the Ancient
Mariner told the terrible tale of the
curse-laden ship with her crew of ghast
ly corpses, no more thrilling story of
the sea has been related than that of the
whale ship Diana, that recently drifted
into one of the Shetland Islands.
A year ago she left the Shetlands on
a whaling voyage to the Arctic regions,
having on board fifty men. From that
time nothing more was heard of her.
The friends of those on board became
alarmed.—Money was raised and pre
miums offered to the first vessel that
would bring tidings of the missing
ship, but all to no avail. Hope was al
most abandoned.
On the 2d of April the people near
Rona's Voe, in one of ihe Shetland Isles,
were startled at seeing a ghastly wreck
of a ship sailing into the harbor. Bat
tered and ice-crushed, sails and cordage
cut away, boats and spears cut up for
fuel in the terrible Arctic winter, her
deck covered with dead and dying, the
long lost Diana sailed in like a ship
from Dead man's Land. Fifty men
sailed out of Lerwick in her on a bright
May morning last year. All of the fif
ty came back on her on the 2d of April,
this year; the same, yet how different
Ten men, of whom the captain was
one, lay stiffened corpses on the deck;
thirty-five lay helplessly sick and some
dying; two retained sufficient strength
to creep aloft and the other three crawl
ed feebly about the deck. The ship
was boarded by the islanders, and as
they climbed over the bulwarks, the
man at the wheel fainted from excite
ment ; one of the sick die as belay, his
death being announced by the fellow
occupant of his birth feebly moaning,
"Take away this dead man." On the
bridge of the vessel lay the body of the
captain, as it had lain for four months,
with nine of his dead shipmates by his
side, all decently laid out by those who
soon expected to share their fate.
The survivors could not bear to sink
the bodies of their comrades into the
sea, but kept them so that when the
last man died the fated ship that had
been their common home should be
their common tomb. The surgeon of
the ship worked faithfully to the last,
but cold, hunger, and scurvy, and dys
entery were too much for him. The
brave old captain was the first victim,
and died blessing his men. Then the
others fell, one by one, until the ship
was tenanted only by the dead and dy
ing. One night more at sea would have
left the Diana a floating coflin. Not
one of the fifty would have lived to tell
! the ghastly tale.
A FOURTH OP JULY' TOAST.— The
following toast is submitted for the
next fourth of July celebratio:—"The
American Eagle—perched on the high
est crest of the Rocky Mountains, he
flaps his wings in the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, quenches his thirst in
the ice water of the Artie Sea, and
shakes his tail-feathers over the Gulf of
Mexico."
IT costs a good deal to be wise, but it
don't cost anything to be happy.
VOL. 61.—WHOLE No. 5,398.
A STRANGE STOItY.
One of the most extraordinary stories
of married life weever heard of hasjust.
been made public. The incidents are
more improbable than a novelist or
dramatist, with a strict regard for his
reputation, would dare to'use. The
story, as it originally appeared, was
that a Mr. Wright had married a Miss
Chamberlain, having just obtained a
divorce from his first wife on the sole
evidence of his second. The first wife
then acted as bridesmaid at Miss Cham
berlain's marriage, standing there, as
we are told, "like a living corps." The
"curse and blight of the Almighty"
were invoked by the agonized repor
ter upon the newly married couple.
These are not pleasant things to hear,
and Mr. Wright has come forward with
a longstatement,in which the assertions
of the reporter are contradicted, but a
narativein every way more strange and
remarkable is substituted for them.
The husband tells his own story, and it
far transcends the wildest dreams of De
poe or Sue. In 1854 Mr. Wright re
turned to this country from Europe in
order to marry a lady to whom he was
engaged. lie came sooner than he in
tended, because the lady's parents and
all her family had died, and left her un
protected. She was twenty-three years
old, and afflicted with a nervous disease
which her mother described as hyster
ia. The pair went to England, and
while at Keswick one night, a month
after their marriage, the husband was
horified to see his wife fall at his feet
in a fit of epilepsy. She had seventeen
fits before the morning. Shocked at the
discovery that his wife was afflicted
with this most awful disease, and know
ing that it was incurable, and dispair
ing of escape from his terrible position,
he that night, as he states, "adopted
her as his child."
From that time to this he has nursed
her and taken care of her, but has nev
er resumed the relationship of their mar
riage tie. He calls her in his narra
tive, his "patient" and his "ward."
Once, when she thought he proposed to
treat her as his wife, she was rendered
"extremely unhappy." Her disease
grew worse—the very servants and nur
ses fled from the house in horror. Six
years ago Miss Chamberlain came as
nurse and as Mr. Wright says, his "pa
tient" herself proposed that he should
marry this lady. "She" (the first wife)
"had come to regard it as religiously
wrong to think of fulfilling the rela
tions of wife in her condition." She
pressed him to marry Miss Chamberlain
Let us imagine what she must have
suffered ere she could bring herself to
this. They tried to get a divorce in In
diana, but failed, for reasons which Mr.
Wright, a little inconsistently, decline
to mention. At last they succeeded—
for the wife helped—and Miss Chamber
lain was the solitary witness on whose
evidence the compact was dissolved.
Of what nature that evidence was, we
are not informed. The divorced wife
was present at the marriage ceremony,
and she is to live with the couple for
the future.
Was there ever such a story ? One
scarcely knows which to pity most, the
man chained toascarcely living woman
for thirteen vears. appalled night and
day by the terrible visitations of which
she was subject, or the woman doom
ed to witness the misery whichshe had
caused, loss of his affections and his mar
riage with another, and to bear in ad
dition the remorse which her own de
ception and sin must necessarly occasion
her. Verily, the tragedies of real lift
are more ghastly than those which the
imagination conjures up.—V. Y. Times.
DEPOPULATION OF IRELAND. —The
London Times admits the loss of two
millions of the population of Ireland
since 1846; i. e., one-quarter of the pop
ulation that of date. But it asserts that
many perished by famine and fever,
and still more homes in the
New World, "a large proportion also
found homes as happy in this island,
and are now a purtof ourselves." Yet
after all, it insists that the population
of Ireland is not less now than six mil
lions, or about the same that it was
sixty years ago, and consequently that
there is no such depopulation in pro
gress as to call for remedies of excep
tionable and questionable character.
THE subject of impression at first
sight was being talked over at the sup
per table, when the lady whose duty
ic was to preside "over the tea cups
and tea" said she always formed an idea
of a person at first sight, aud generally
found it to be correct.
"Mamma," said the youngest son, in
a shrill voice that attracted the atten
tion of all present.
"Well, my dear, what is it?" replied
the fond mother.
"I want to know what was your
opinion of me when you first saw me."
This question gave a sudden turn to
the conversation.
A GENTLEMAN called on a miser, and
found him at the table endeavoring to
catch a fly. Presently he succeeded in
entrapping one, which he immediately
put into the sugar bowl and shut down
the cover. The gentleman asked for an
explanation of this singular sport. "I'll
tell you," replied the raiser, a triumph
ant grin overspreading his countenance
as he spoke, "I want to ascertain if the
servant steals the sugar.
A YOUNG lady of Montgomery, who
was recently caught smoking a cigar,
gave it as her reason for the act, "that
it made it smell as though there was a
man around."
THE LORD'S PRAYER.—Did you ever
think, short though it is, how mueh
there is in the Lord's Prayer?—Oh, it
lis beautiful! Like a diamond in the
crowu of a queen, it unites a thousand
sparkling gems in one.
It teaches all of us, every one of us, to
look to God as our parent—"Our Fath
er."
It prompts us to raise our thoughts
and our desires above the earth—"Who
art in heaven."
It tells us that we must reverence our
heavenly Father—"Hallowed be thy
name."
It breathes the saint's reward—"Thy
kingdom come."
And a submissive, obedient spirit—
"Thy will be done on earth as it is in
heaven."
And a dependent trusting spirit—
"Give us this day our daily bread."
And a forgiving spirit—"Forgive us
our trespasses as we forgive those that
trespass against us."
And a cautious spirit—"Deliver us
from evil."
And, last of all, the adoring spirit—
"For thine is the kingdom and the
power and the glory forever and ever.
Amen."
DIFFERENCE IN THE SHAPE OF
FEET.—TheNew York Hideand Leath
er Journal noticesa few of thedifferences
in the shape of the pedal extremities
of people in various sections of the coun
try. Shoes made for one locality are
not adapted for all. For instance, a
broad shoe, wide in the shank, is best
adapted to the Eastern trade, a narrow
sole meeting with but little favor.—
Rhode Island, though the smallest
State in the Union, can boast of having
some of the biggest feet that ever trod
sole leather. The Middle States require
slimmer shoes and higher in the instep
than the East. The instep grows high
er as we progress southward, commen
cing with Virginia and the foot shorter
and more plump. Rarely, at the North,
does a full-grown man were less than a
No. 0, running up in the scale of sizes
to No. 11; but, at the South, many a
full-sized man wears fours and fives,
and seldom over nines.
The ladies of the South, adds the
Charleston Courier, have confessedly
always had the smallest and prettiest
feet of any race in the world.
WOND. KS.— When a young man is
clerk of a store and dresses likea prince,
smokes "foreign cigars," drinks "nice
brandy," attends theatres, dances and
the like, I wonder if he does all on the
avails of his clerkship?
When a young lady sits in the parlor
during the day, with her lily white
fingers covered with rings, 1 wonder
if her mother doesn't wash the dishes
and do the work in the kitchen ?
When the deacon of the church sells
strong butter, recommending it as a
good article, I wonder what he relies
upon for salvation ?
When a lady laces her waist a third
less than nature made it, I wonder if
her pretty figure will not shorten life a
dozen years or more, besides making
her miserable while she does live?
When a young man is dependent
upon his daily toils for his income, and
marries a lady who does not know how
to make a loaf of bread or mend a gar
ment, I wonder if he is not lacking
somewhere, say towards the top, for
instance?
When a man receives a periodical or
newspaper weekly, and takes great
delight reading it, and don't pay for it,
I wonder if he has a soul or a gizzard ?
A FORLORN fellow says thus plain
tively:—"When Sally's arms her dog
imprisen, I always wish my neck was
his'n; how often would I stop and turn,
to get a pat from a hand like her'n; and
when she kisses Towser's nose, oh!
don't I wish that I were those"
A SCHOOLMASTER in a Western village,
where the custom of "boarding round"
prevails, recently received notice from
a Dutch matron that she "would eat
him but couldn't sleep him." He will
doubtleesbe careful not to venture with
in her reach.
Ma," said a little girl to her mother,
"do the men want to get married as
much as the women do?"—" Pshaw!
what are you talking about?" "Why,
ma, the women who come here are al
ways talking about getting married —
the men don't."
The following somewhat remarkable
advertisement appeared in the columns
of a recent number ola newspaper:
"Lost, by a poor lad tied up in a
brown paper, with a flute in an over
coat, and several other articles of wear
ing apparel.
A I ADY tramped on a dog's tail at
Omaha, the other day, and the animal
bit her leg. The blood did not flow,
however; only sawdust flew. He did
not go deep enough for blood. This
is the most useful purpose we have ev
er heard of a false calf serving.
PRECOCIOUS PUPlL.— Please, Miss
Jones, what is the meaning of suburbs ?
Governess, (who is extensively crinolin
ed)— The outskirts of a place. Pupil,
(seizing Miss J. by the dress)— Then,
Miss Jones, are these your suburbs ?
A YOUNG lady, just married, in New
York, had twenty-four pairs of shoes to
match twenty-four dresses. She was a
whole-soled maiden.
FORTUNE-TELLERS and tilting hoops
operate differently. The former reveal
what a lady will be in the future—the
later reveal what she is at present.
IF you can express yourself so as to
be perfectly understood in ten words,
never use a dozen.
GIVE strict attention to your own af
fairs—and consider your wife one of
them.
A fool's heart is in his tongue, but a
wise man's tongue is in his heart.