SwV, ••> t\ PH* r I^TCSE* *%••«'■;!' &% * |. |r &{§■ '’*s#• -fl! I* #H*. paC :g-S=-«®v j_3 — t is :JF S*lf •*< i •■^if as C 3 § g £•■■ P3' * ®§l'f W-:; fegJ&lifm.. ■ ANKCMJtf- ’ats, tfpiees or tbc Ooliduff. pwd stock of |»Uls #» na&t owntttliv. Ail J»a wIiIJWI jacob-atise. l^p^pot TQJS^CCV. kRIETX r|SHES» MtaAMK h^W> £****? aaaMilKtl^Ml )xVWtHOH • ,-i • -wttpftfe''-' leßteytooekfllMl* EsSsaW ‘ ' W *T^:"il"Jv:“t«T g a,^oyacif 4LS; ov&i^^.v r , jDgusJka.. - lO*AfiJBB 40Gdi ?f imam*, W : ■■"-■ ' t wSf^S^ftJ s .*B»,tß*etb«r«Ur mbftMfcdl«W *W *r'Mksi jIcCRU M & DEKN, VOL. 6 THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE. fc B. wo motomom. . annum (payable invariably in ndeenco,*l,so. Jumper, dLxm tinned «t the eviration of the time piii luf. TUUB OP IBYIMMWO. I insertion ■ 2 do. * ° o ' , ... . « 26 t 37‘< $ 80 or, ?“"”;V *6O 75 100 (,? ““*•{- ioo i6O aoo 1,3 «{' ”... 160 200 ,2 60 T ow three ill* ««“■ «*“ months, 26 cent. p« for e “ ch ia4etU °3 months. 6 month.. 1 year , 41 50 $3 00 $6OO jij!.3?.or lew 2 50 6 00 7 00 OaeW»t» % ■ 400 600 10 00 Two B 00 8 00 12 00 Three “ aOO 10 00 16 00 rear “ 10 00 16 00 20 00 licit n column 00 60 00 One c01umn..... 175 Administrator. ond*£%'£"■square., Merchant j advertising by the year, tu 4 10 M s# o, Una with paper. in and Ch"geJaC ii-tdin? 10 per lino for every insertion. Oliitnarj notices exceeding ton Unee, fifty cent, a square tribune directory. 'churches, ministers, AC. I'RESBYTERIAN-Rev. - BAXS9, PMtor-Pteadijng .... ' ttliatb moruing at 11 o’clock, afad m the evwnnig .' '. - . pruycr Meeting in the Lecture Room every tf at 7 o’clock. SaLhalh School in same I--..tSW o'clock in the morning. . . ~MITmii>IBT EPISCOPAL—Rev. W. Lei SforpyooD. .i Breaching Sabbath morning at 11 o clock, .'im’tUe etenlng at T o’clock. Prayer Meeting in the lioom every Weduesdft-y evening Rt < o clock. Sdioot in the same room at 2 o’clock P. M. tV A \GKLICAL LUTHERAN—Rev. C. L. EnBENPEU>, r • /Jpreucbiug every Sabbath morning at 11 o clock, .aVintbe evening at 7 o’clock. Prayer Meeting in the A mo’Room erery Wednesday eyeuing at i o clock.— UH idi School In sumo room at 9 o’clock A. M. BAPTIST— Rev. A. H. SEJKOWSB, Pastor.— Preaching ~.y fibbath morning at 11 o’clock,and in the evemugat •-''click. Prayer Meeting every,Wednesday evening at ! f, I clock'. Sabbath School at 9 o’cbick A. M. ISIIED BRETHREN—Rev. S ascii. KtPniET, Pastor. TtWhiir oven- Sabbath morning at 11 o'clock, and in Hie 'ennin«*t 7 o’clock. Prayer Meetingin the Lecture Room iftjncadav evomtig at 7 o’clock. Sabbath School in -June room at 9 o’clock in the morning. PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL—(No regular Pastor.}— Treadlin'’ on Sabbath morning at 11 o’clock, and in the SI, ring at 7 O’clock. Prayer Meeting every Wednesday Ctniinl at 7 o’clock. Sabbath School at,9 o’clock A. M. ENGLISH CATHOLIC—Rev. Jctos Tnoo, Pastor—Di ,-s, service! every Sabbath morning at 10K o’clock and it the aftcru ooa at 3 o'clock. Sabbath School at 2 o’clock the n _ HERMAN CATHOLIC— Rev. ; , Pastor. -levinv »nkH cVery Sabbath morning at 10K o clock, iin 111- afternoon at 3 o’clock. Sabbath School at 1 ,ii ck in the afternoon. AFRICAN METHODIST—Rev. ALUixntß Jonssvow, Pis;-,:—Trcatilnng every Fourth Sabbath in each mouth. lr«),-r Meeting every Friday evening at 7 o’clock. Sab tsrh School at'2 o’clock in the afternoon. ’ RAIL ROAD SCHEDULE. CN AND AFTER MONDAY, NOT. 23. IS6I, TRAINS »;t! arrive at anJ leave Altoona Station a. follows: Train East arrives 9,35 P.M., leaves 9,55 P. 51, “ « West M 8,29 A. M. “ 8,40 A.M. “ East “ 5.35 A. M, ■‘ “ West « 8,55 P.M., “ 940 P.M. Nul “ East TSOA.M, “ 7.15 A.M. '•. “ West “ 2,25 P.M., “ 2,45 P. SI. Tte lIOLLIDAYSBURG BRANCH connects with Ex fu.uTtihi am! Fast Liao West, and Mail Train East and W*l I.VMANA BRANCH TRAINS connect with Johnstown A: ;j!iwdation Tiaiua East and West,Express West, and iUii Utkin East and West. . ENOCH LEWIS, Cia'l Supt. MAILS CLOSE AND OPEN. MAILS CLOSE, sa ; ,t»-rn Way Ac4;<‘.in Way P ;ii!>»y«lmrg Through. Lustera Through MAILS ARRIVE. 8.15 a:m. *lll5 A. M. H i:iiay of each month, at 7 I A o'clock P. SI., in the third «j:v of the Masonic Temple. MOUNTAINR. A. CHAPTER, No. 189 R. A. C., meets cn the first Thursday of each month, at o'clock P. it *r.me room as above. . MOUNTAIN COUNCIL, No. 9, R.AS.M.. meets on the first Monday of o&ch month, at/>£ o’clock P. M., m same nv'm as above. _ __ MOUNTAIN COMMANDKRY, No. 10, K. T- meets on the fourth Tuesday of each month, at 7 o’clock P.M-, In .-ame room as above. ALTOONA LODGE. No. 173, I. O. of 0. F« meets ©very Friday evening, at o’clock, in the second story of the .Masonic Temple. VERANDA LODGE, No. 532, 1.0.0f0. P... meets every Tuesday evening, at 7 }4 o’clock, in third story of Patton’s Building, on Virginia street. .WINNEBAGO TRIBE,'Nc. 3a, I- 0. R. 51., meets every Tuesday evening In the second Masonic Temple. Council fire kindled-at 7th run 50 tb breath. ALTOONA DIVISION, No. 311, 8. of T., meets every Saturday evening, at 7 o’clock, in the second story of the Mamie Temple. ; ; ' • STATE OFFICERS. Chvemor—Andrew G. Curtin. Sca&aryvf StaU —Ell SUfer. Attorney General —William 51. Meredith. Auditor Goieral—Thomas E. Cochran. Surveyor General—William L. Wright, mfabU —Joseph K, Ely. of Slide, Corny, Borough and. School Tax —Jos. A. Ely. Jaditorr—John I/owther, 0. J.Mann, Alex. McCormick. Jwnor-jobnjicCldUnd. ■Jwdnrt Aataoro— Jacob Hesser, J.X. Belfsnyder. pf Elections—East Ward—William Maloney. “ West Ward—John t-Ifper. • . . “i KorthWard—(BiristianWhistler. lotpcclart-Vui Ward-J). M. Onwna, John Hooper. .. Westward—J. K.Bellinan,Robt.Pitcalrn«. Sorth Ward—Kobt- McCormickvJobo Condo. U«ti gear’s ©fitting. .E. C. BEEN, Altoona Tribnne. Then memory, alhbusy, sought what might be found In the year that had just completed its (onnd, 3.10 A.M. That could cause the sad hrowjhe dying one wore, Or the blood-red slain, that her garments, marked Mcthonght then her spectre arose from the grave, And in her right hand held a wreath for the brave, Encircling a lamp,—it was history's light, And threw a rich blaze on the true and the right. But dark was the phade which that liistory threw O'er the names of those who had proven untrue— Untrue to the nation whose broad lands they trod, Untrue to themselves, and untrne to their God* Then in her left hand I beheld a large roll; Unfurl'd to my eyes it presented the scroll ll 00 A.M. 8 00 ' 8 OO A. M. A 11 00 A. M. ...'. 1 00 I*. M 7OO “ 3 10 A.M 8 20 “ U 22 A- M, CABEIER’B ADDRESS TO THE PATRONS OF THE A very aged form, last night, I met upon my way, With eyes of sparkling lustre bright And locks of snowy gray, - ■ Upon his arm, in mournful mood, There hung a dying-fair. And on her garments bright I saw A blood-red stain was there; A palor was upon her cheek, And sadness in her eye, For her final doom was written Upon the wintry sky. For the solemn hour of midnight Was then approaching fast— The hour at which the good old year Must be forever past. And she it was—fair Sixty-One— That: mid the last night’s gloom; Thus leaning on Old Father Time, Was journeying to the tomb. Aye! sheit was whose sadden’d brow, And garments sprinkled o'er, Too plainly told that hearts had bled Which now would bleed no more; Anti- that was hers—that low sad tone Which whispered to her friend— “My brief eventful life will soon Forever have an end.” Just then the old man looked on ine; He oft had looked before, : But this time he gazed upon mo Not as in days of yore. And yet perhapsT was mistaken, Anil he was still the some; I may have been*, myself, (and not Old Fatlier Time,) to blame. He a moment only gazed, And, onward swiftly fled; The fair one from his side was gone, And Sixty-One lay dead. I gazed around, the stars were dim That in the blue sky hung; And there around that death-couch The night-winds sadly sung; They sang a melancholy song, At the midnight dark and drear, And the burden of their song was - The dear departed year. o'er. On which was recorded the deeds of the year; And the record was blotted with many a tear. This record presented the hist’ry of earth, Written in wisdom, folly, sadness and mirth; But I had no cause o'er U widely to roam, I therefore but gleaned what related to home— That home is the Union , the land of my birth. The brightest and fairest of any on earth! But sad is the hist’ry I gaze upon now, For the Gbddcss of Peace has veiled her fair brow, And Freedom, unwilling her triumphs to yield, lias call'd her.brave sons to the white tented field; The thnndercr of Mare has opened his month, And the wild din of battle is heard in the South! A band of brave freemen, with traitors around, For months had maintained in “Secessia” their ground; • ■ .... Bttt they could not withstand the cohorts of treason. And Snmter, with honor, they left for a season. Then the news spread abroad with clehtric thrill, And the patriot-fire was found burning still. And from mountains, and cities, and prairies wide, At onr-Ghieftain's hall, rolled a human tide.. And he who had donn’d (but a short month before) The noblest tiara that man ever wore. In Washington sat, in th' Executive Chair, Directing 'gainst treason his armies tb war. Here, for a space, the scroll was blotted all o’er, And I scarcely coaid read the records it bore; Dark dashes were drawn 'neath each line of this part. For it told of Ellsworth, whoso gallant young heart Life’s current spiled ont ere it came to a pause— A sacrifice made in a glorious cause, ylt told of Great Bethel, and G ruble who there, With many more, fell into the enemy's snare. It told of 801 l Bun, and that shameful defeat, , Where teamsters and Congressmen led the retreat; And mention was made of that red battle-held Where Lyon had fallen, unwilling to yield. And Lexington’s story was blurred quite enough, But still darker the. lines that Ball’s Bluff, Where Baker, the hero and orator, fell, And many more whose names the muse can ne'r tell. Then fairer lines caine, and a brighter light shone. Where the record of Western Virginia was thrown. And the deeds of the West so brightly came forth, With the Hatteras capture by men of the Norths Then the great expedition (though ppiross its phth The dread storm-king came in fury and wrath?) I Accomplished its work—pnt the rebels to flight, . And sent a bright ray over treason’s dark night. > I next-found a record of traitors who went ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 2, 1862. i To the West India Isles, and got oti the “Trent,” To sail to Europe, some arrangements to moke, More surely the bands of the Union to break. But when they sailed down the old Bahama Strait, They were either too soon or a little too late, For although in the breast of a “Mason" there, Igieir “secrets" were locked with very great care; Though Slide(we)U was along, both met a mishap, For, trying.to slide out, they slid into a trap! Commander Wilkes was in that region about, In the “San Jacinto,” searching them out. True, this has caused old friend(J) Johnny Bull to complain, * But we’ve whipped him twice and could do it again! Yet, as onrs is a jnst and a righteous cause, We will not transgress international laws, Bnt will yield up the traitors and send them Away, And hope that from this fair country they'll stay; That wherever they find in the future a placed They’ll never return, a free land to disgrace. Again, from Missouri a record is drawn. Which informs ns the day .more brightly doth dawn, Tor Pope, under Halleck, has taken the field, And forced a large army of rebels to yield. . Then, near the last of the scroll, Pennsylvania's son Reports what at Drainesville his warriors have done, And it makes us feel proud—Pennsylvanians all— To know we have sent to-ihe field a McCall. But this scroll of the year, on its broad face bore, About our own’ Country a thousand things more, Concerning affairs of Andy and State, Which I find it impossible here to relate. Put enough has been shown that you may see why So bloody the garments, and clouded the sky, That were wrapp’d around, and that darkly hnng o'er The year that has gone, to return never more. ‘ In its progress, while some have clasp’d their first born, Some have slept their last Sleep hr life’s early mom; Aye! while joy in some homes has brightly gone round,' In others the Death-Angel’s shadow is found; And other homes'still, which on last New Year’s Day Were all radical with joy—all happy and gay— Have empty seats now, their pleasures to mar, For husbands and sons have gone forth to war. Thus the year, with its joys and sorrows,; is past, And Sixty-One at midnight her; last! And now the New Year, Sixty-Two, is begun, And we hail with great glee its first risen sun. And hope in the future that far brighter skies -May see its last sun in behuiy arise; And that'ere the yoar which is now ushered in ; Shall have drawn to a close, weahall hear th’ last din That rises from conflict ’tween the South and the North, And peace may ag:un in brightness shine forth'- And -now, my kind patrons, I hid yon adieu, Wishing a vent happy New Year to you, And hoping those, gone as warriors away. May unscathed return ere the next New Year's Day. The whole Union again may oar banners float o’er, And may plenty bless you in basket and store — And whatever your state, whether sadness or joy, Mav you ever remember the CARRIER BOY. J.vyr.viu'lST, 18f>2. JTilwt fpgtfllatig, ■ THE CHRISTMAS .TBS& Dr. Grantley sat alone in his office, Ids head resting on his liands, thinking deeply. He had not been thus solitary very many minutes, for a frail, delicate girl had just left him, his eldest daughter and his dar ling, who had filled the place of mother, as well as sister, to the younger children of the Doctor. Marion Grantley carried from this interview a heavy heart. It was. the old, old story- —she loved, was beloved, and her father frowned upon her lover.— ‘There was no personal dislike between Dr. Grantley and Morton Lpring; but, in years long past, Amos Loring, the young man’s father, and George Grhntley, rivals in love, had sworn an undying and bitter hatred, and for this old quarrel, although Amos Loring was. numbered with the dead, Dr. Grantley was breaking the heart of his gentle, dutiful child. Her last words, as she left him, were: “Fa ther, you know I will never disobey you; but it is Christmas eve: for the day’s sake, by the memory of iny who was taken into heaven seven years ago this evening, by the love I have ever tried to show you, forget this old quarrel. Let me bring to you one who, for my sake, will he a son in yohr old age, who loves , and respects you. Father do not break my heart!” In reply, the Doctor merely waved his hand toward the door, and quietly, sadly, with no violent outbreak of passion- to tell her bitter grief, Marrion passed’out.— From the office, across the entry, she went into the parlor. There was a blaze of light there, and round the centre table were clustered four little sisters and one brother, lief mother’s legacy to Marion.— Grace, the one jnext Marion, a pretty blonde, just entering her nineteenth year, 1 looked up as her sister entered. There was no discontented, fretful glance to throw back her loving one; gentle, serene, and tender, Marion smiled back her own sorrow to give them a Christmas greeting. “Oh, I wish it was to-morrow 1” cried , Eddie, the youngest, a boy of eight years old, the pet and darling of all the five sis ters. , “To-morrow evening!” said Fannie, the next in order, “ to-morrow evening! O such fun! A .Christmas tree!” “ I;am sorry I jdid. not have it this even- [independent in evebtthing.] ing,” said Marion, “ if you are so impa tient; but Aunt Lizzie’s box of presents from New York always comes on Christ mas day, and we can make a much pret tier tree if its contents are hung upon it.” “Won’t it be fun to dress it!” whis pered Grace, who was to be the only one admitted to tills delightful task. “Oh, Marion will it have my work box'?” cried Hester. And my doll ?” said Fannie. “And my set, of China tea-things?— You know you promised me a new set?” And, fairly started, all the, children joined in the list of demands, making a perfect Babel 6f the parlor. The little mantle clbck struck nine.— As the last stroke died away, Marion pointed with a smile to the clock, and the children rose, kissed their sisters, and wont merrily up stairs to bed, Fannie leading Eddie, while Hers ter and Lizzie, little girls of eleven and twelve, went up arm in arm. “There is so much to do to-morrow, Grade,” said Marion, as the chamber door closed, shutting out the sound of merry voices, “ there are su many things to at- tend to that I think we will dress the tree this evening. We can shut the fold ing doors, and keep the children from the back parlor to-morrow, and it will not take many minutes to hang Aunt Lizzie’s presents upon the tree, when they arrive in the morning.” “ O yes, we will dress it now. I’ll call father.” And the young girl danced off to the office, humming a merry Marlon in the meantime, went out to a closet in the entry, and brought in' a large baize covering for the centre of the floor. It was green and meant for the foundation of the beautifrd show Marion’s tree always made. Grace and the Doctor soon came in, and the process of making a Christmas tree commenced in good earnest. The .square of green baize being tacked down, a large stone'jar 1 was placed in the,, middle of it, and in this the tree* 1 stood nobly erect. Damp sand was put round the stem till the large green tree stood firmly in its place. A flounce of green chintz round the jar concealed its stony ugliness, and over the top,- round the tree, was a soft cushion of moss. It was a large evergreen, reaching almost to the high ceiling, for all the family presents were to be placed upon it. This finished, the process of dressing commenced. From a basket in the corner, Marion drew long ; strings of bright red holly-berics, threaded like beads upon fine cord. These were festooned in graceful garlands from the boughs of the .tree, and while Marion was thus employed, Grace aud the Doctor ar ranged the tiny tapers. This was ji deli cate task. Long-picces of fine wire wore passed through Xhc taper at the bottom, and these clasped over the stem of each branch and twisted together underneath. Great care was taken that there should be a clear space above each wick, that noth ing might catch fire. Strings of bright berries, small boquets of paper flowers, strings of beads, tiny flags of gay ribbons, ’stars and sliields of gilt paper, lace bags filled with colored candies, knots of bright ribbons all home-made by Marion’s and Grace’s skillful fingers, made a brilliant show at a* very trifling cost, the basket seeming possessed of unheard of capacities, to judge from the multitude and variety of articles the sisters drew from it;, Mean time, upon the wick of each taper the Doctor rubbed with hi* finger a drop of alcohol, to insure its lighting quickly.— This is a process he would intrust to no ; one else, for fear the spirit might fall upon i some part of the tree not intended to catch ■ fire. Marion, unconscious that her : father’s eye followed her in every movement, tried to keep up a Cheerful smile7'for her sister’s sake, yet sometimes a weary sigh would come up from her overcharged heart as the contrast between these gay prepara tions for festivity and the weight of her: own sorrow struck her. At last, all the contents of the basket were on the tree,* and then the more important presents were brought down from an upper room.— There were many large articles, seemingly too clumsy for the tree, but Marion passed around them gay-colored.ribbons till they formed a basket work, and looped them over the branches till even Hester’s work-box looked graceful. Dolls for each of the little girls were seated on the boughs, and a large cart for Eddie, with two horses pran-| cing before it, drove gaily amongst thei branches, as if each steed possessed the wings of Pegasus. On the moss beneath the branches Marion placed a set of wood-i on-animals for Eddie, while from the top most branch was suspended a.gilded cage, ready for the canary-bird Dr.Grautlcy had | purchased for the pet-loving Lizzie. | j Various mysterious packages, wrapped ! in' paper, and marked Grace, Marion, or Papa, were put all the delicious mystery of Christmas might be prescrvetL At length all was ready, and, carefully locking the doors, the trio went up to their respective rooms. 1 It was Christmas evening. All thp presents were on the tree, and Marion was alone in the back parlor, waiting for the Doctor’s return from a professional visit, before she-lighted the tree. The children were in the sitting room, and their eager, merry voices, came faintly to her as she sat Waiting there. : Hark! . A voice in the entry. The door of the large doset opened and shut again, and then her father’s voice sum moned her to open the door. i “Marion,” he said, taking her hands in his own, “you have thought for all the others this Christmas evening; I have a 'gift for you.” ‘ She said “Thank you,” quietly smiling, yet without much appearance of interest. ! “ I wash to place it on the tree myself, ahd then tills year I will play lamplighter. You bring the children into the next room.” i Dancing fedt soon sounded on the stairs, and eager voices shouted, “ Merry Christ mas,” as the little ones followed Marion into the front parlor. It was entirely dkvk. Standing them in a row, at some distance fnrni the folding-doors, Marion spoke to tell her father all was ready— The doors flew open. The tall tree, one blaze of light, covered with tasty gifts, stood in the middle of the room, and be- hind it was a figure which Marion at first took for her father; only for a moment.— Dazzled and confused as she was by the sudden blaze -of light, a second glance sent q full tide of happiness to her heart. “My Christmas gift,” she said, softly, stepping forward. “ And I claim mine,” was the reply, in a deep manly voice, from behind the tree, and Morton Loring came forward to where Marion had paused, awaiting him. ; Christmas; was surely not a time for quarrels, sanctified, too, as it was to the .Doctor and Marion, and Dr. Grantley re paid long years of devotion to himself and his children, by making Marion happy on Christmas. INTESESTDfQ NARRATIVE. Col. De Villiers, of the Eleventh Ohio Regiment, recently escaped from imprison- ment at Richmond, and on Wednesday eve- ening last told his stoiy before a large an-, (hence in Cincinnati. He was captured by the Confederates at the skirmishof Scarey creek, in Western Virginia, and was imme diately sent to Richmond and put in jail. Jail life not agreeing with his constitution, he made various efforts to escape; and fi nally succeeded. Here is the narrative. Being by profession a doctor, Col. De Yilliors, when he had sufficiently recovered - from a wound, was asked by the hospital; doctor to assist, which ho consented to do: ■ and he was thus permitted to enjoy more liberty. By good fortune, one day, the com manding general gave the physicians liberty to go into the city several times. They wore, as a distinguished body, a red ribbon, or badge, fixed in their button hole. When he encountered a sentinel, he was dial-: leuged and forbidden to pass, on the ground of being a prisoner; the order of the gen eral did not include him; Now, as they 'called him a French Yankee, he thought he would play them a Yankee trick; so ho wrote a note stating that he was included; When he returned to the hospital, the rebel physician said he had been practising de ception, amj roost consequently go back among the prisoners. He was again in? carcerated and put in irons. He soon made up bis mind however, to escape from there or die. He told Col. Woodruff of his determination to escape, for ids time had come. Colonel Woodruff wished him well, and hoped that he would escape. He set about it, and devised a lie and stole, for wliich he felt assured he would be forgiven, He stole the coat and hat of a secession officer, and in that garb passed the guard. About six miles from Richmond he was encountered by a guard, and to his chair lenge replied, “A friend without the coun tersign.” {He had the precaution to lay down the double-barrel shot-gun which-he contrived to get before he escaped from 1 Richmond, before he approached this guard! 1 He had, besides, a revolver and a bowie knife.] Approaching, they asked him where he was from and whither be was going.— He replied, from Richmond to Petersburg. They then asked him why he did not take the railroad, to which ho relpied that he had missed, the cars. They then took him in custody, and marched, one on each side of him, upon a narrow -bridge crossing a stream near at hand. The situation was desperate, but he was determined never to go back toi Richmond alive, so, when he got about to the middle of the bridge, hie struck to the right and left, knocking one of the guards on one side and tho other oh the other side, giving them both a good swim! Hence he made his way toward Petersburg, subsisting for three days upon nothing hut a few raw beans. Upon this tramp, for a distance of sixty five miles, he carried .his skiff for' crossing rivers (a pine hoard) upon bis shoulder. During his travels he was several times shot at When he got in the neighbor hood of Magrudcr’s forces, his time began. Jte tried to pass sentinels several times, and fit one time was twice shot at in quick | succession- He shot too. He did not know whether he hit the twoke&- tiiiels or not; but they never But the whole brigade whs aroused, and ho took to the James river in whalf~tt9 called hiS skiff, namely, his pine board edm- EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. panion. ' He landed on the other side In a swamp, recroesing again near Jamestown, where he lost his gun. He had cast away his officer’s coat, and it may well be imag ined that what remained of his suit was by this time rusty enough. So be took an open course and resolved to ask for work; but, like men in the South, when they ask for work they are told to gOjnto the ser vice. Even .the ladies do not look upon a young man unless he is in the service.— Viewed from this test, there were more patriots in the South than in the North; they were all soldiers, old and young, ' He hired with a German blacksmith at $1,50 per week, having concluded to re main awhile and learn something of the condition of the rebel forces. He staid a fortnight; observing all the rebel move ments. At the expiration of this time ho got tired of blacksmithing and wanted to go home, He found a good German Union man, to whom told, his story, fvithout reservation, just as he was telling it here to night. This was of great service to him; he led for nine days, the Colonel having adopted another Yankee brick, and .made a blind man of himself; he Couldn't see, and the German was his guide. Drop ping the Yankee French, he became a French subject, and wanted to go back to : Prance, because he could not get any work to do here; and sp.he told General'Huger when he got into his command. This Gen eral promised to send him to Fortress Monroe with a flag of truce. The next flag of trucp that was sent bo accompanied, ’ blidd still, and led by his faithful German friend. ' - GOOD SUGGESTIONS. ' We deem it important at tins time to publish a number of suggestions in regard to the prevention of fires, which We com* mend to the attention of housekeepers, tradesmen, manufacturers and others/ They are as follows: { ■ Keep matches in metal boxes,.ahd out of the reach of children. ~ Wax patches are particularly , danger ous, and should be kept out of the way of rats or mice. Be careful in making fires with shavings and other light kindling. Do not deposits coal or wood ashes in a wooden vessel, and be sure burning dinders are extinguished before they are deposited. Never put fire-wopd upon the stove to dry. Never place ashes or a .light pnder a stair-ease. ! Fill fluid or camphene lamps only by daylight and never near a fire or light. Do not leave a lamp or burning upon the steps of a stairway. Never leave a candle; burning on a bureau or chest. ' ' Always be cautious in extinguishing matches and other lighters ibefore throwing them away. Never throw a cigar stump upon the floor or into a spit-box containing saw dust, or trash, without being certain that it retains no fire. - I After blowing out a candle, never put it away on a shelf or anywhere else, until sure that the snuff has gone entirely out. A lighted candle ought not to be stuck up against a frame wall,; or placed upon any portion of the wood work in a stable, manufactory, shop, or other place. Never enter a bam or stable at night with an uncovered light. Ostlers should never smoke pipes about stables. i Never take an open light to examine a gas meter. 5 Do not ; put gas or other lights, near curtains. Never take a light into a closet. Do not read in bed by 1 candle or lamn ight. i: • Place glass -shades over gas lights 'in show windows, and do not crowd goods too dose to them. 1 - No smoking should ever be permitted in ware-houses, especially where goods are packed or cotton stored. The prindpal register of a,fumacO should always be fastened open. Stovepipes should he at leost four in ches from wood-work, and well; guarded by tin. Rags ought never to be staged into stove-pipe holes. Openings in chimney-flues for stove pipes which axe not used, ought always to be securely protected hy metallic coverings. Never close up a place of business in the evening without looking well to the extinguishment of lights, and the proper security of fires. When retiring to bed at night, always see that there is no danger from your fires, and be sure that the lights are safe. This is the season of the year when fires are indispensable everywhere, and when the short days and long nights render it necessary to bum lights formanyhours. Tho above suggestions, if carefully fol- may be the means of preventing numerous fires, and thereby saying thou sands of dollars? worth of property, as well as preserving many valuable liviae. CrAkiasis the first prisoner lhat;Wj capes when ' a maiden unlodtS her lovef. *'■ ■ .» NO. 47.