mvbt St ' o!,wkklsrg, j>£ iHahment isehiefly •store of Blank Books to Z?*" *0 Mess. Railroad (toipaatoa^ff/SCfe MtotU. In !«H cto-iSgBBm k nod workmanship •ok Book* printed, tern. ‘Sheriff’., AttoSSn SjlaMh. ■e*. made nod rated toOßlar«2**to» towotn, PapUoito .Inin, ruled and bound to otd» , it ar l*> ’ the bestllnen paper. . «wmj d other vdeairing to hnr» thnirn^ ■derate pricoashonWjrietaacalKi!*' ll f*«t rite., Harper's at, Scientific American. Hdliu; stylo n«aliri,,{SZSir > * ! i ktckerbocker, Blackwood's &21lS», , ftKg&SS5! md esbetantial lialf blndUi»7^2S*?’ M taaioes Pampbletlawm, rery moderate prices. Panoiu £~r **• ■mi to bind, will receire • dy be sent to as (ram asUstaneateV' work entrusted tuonrcatewßl^JLz l slely packed " rwl *—*—pdatnf Tty Iti?.* 1 Mod.. Address t. L BBTIte , ~ I#DKBN,st the Tribunt Offloe. L. on.Jto Ticinity. They waUtoehSl" 1 -’ toMndmg. and tntetoitotohtoKSS* Chtrgin, for all who eatießSS??”?* 11 02 £ i sirs « >V 3 M g~ * <( Jf 1 * 1 OS'S .. W -. j*g = gi i SP 2*5 = V S-2 <■£*■ t *** . ■ -*s S 0 = < I £*ll ; * § *S^r ’ O § I I \s s r« i S oi||~. [l ; g.£JS if 3«'2g,|E OO* Jg^ RY AND BAKERY! XDERSIGNED ANNOU.V citizens of Altoona and rtcialA that h, 4 * invoiceeVof INFKCTIOXARIES, NCTB. SPICS* Mldreu vxureuljr for tbnßoljdzu •epalways on bond a good, slock of pto„ of hf> own manafftctnre. PRUNES, RAISINS,&('. it al| aetwns of.the jitr, S. Sugar, Molasses, Bator. »h. WHITE WHEAT FLOCK. FAT FLOUR, CORN MEAL, *C- tad for sal* iu Urir* or nuUt quantities, and price my stock atid you will find Map w any iu town JACOB WBK. EAT QUESTION WHICH ** the mind of eyery ! gsl the best article for ird to other matters. the t attempt to direct, bntlf i the line of TS OR SHOES - i examination of Uis stock and work. Ulttyoahsnd an aasortmeat ofßoots,Sb ICfAL TEETH, I M «WP&. on title new end ttwMM‘ls?, or tofhe old *tyl*,on -SSilit r or discolor. It cdntelne ho coon* then b ad i te* often become Office in Jtfaaonie Temple, VESTEBN IJWwPjS r company—ineonwee** gSj, «1U be effected on ajfrgg*J9B!sl»-' min Altoonn Sit. ' JOHX ggCBQMKWr **^!- IiEPAEATION JIATS, JOCK, tw>**r tn it* •rof Store of .■- ti) LAED .OILS, ng Fluid, Carbon OH, * e j^pg|fK’& ewi-tmopt of .—a L*ms *S - -- - ——— JIoCBUM & DERN. VOL. 7 * THE ALTOONA. TRIBUNE. «■ momuitom. iuyarUbly iu idtmcej) sl*6o* tL expiation .f-th.tlme t'XKMH OF *DVXB.tIffISO. „ . 1 ioOTtion 2 do. * *»«• . „ !S I 37 \i t5O Mt«*“ •*' ■••••• 50 75 .1 00 0». •■•'“f- 1 “ V" 100 iso ;2 oo T* u " , 160 -2 00 : 2 50 T"" threeweek. and le« than three month., 25 cent. for each iu.ert.on. months. 6 months. 1 ye»r. 150 iSO*’ $* 00 . 250 400 "00 4 00 6 00 10 00 ... 5 00 SOO 12 00 Sis lints or I*** One guar's Hirce Ual( » column. \l»Tcl»anl* u«iveru*«»K 3 :»oo Hues with P^* ic Bl .uaracteror individual in r - ,“sgraßsß-*»»><-'<«•“• fl^BSsafflagfe «s£f;i;a!S?S ASSS. JSMSK^*- -tte Od, . v« y Du JOHNSON has discovered the . Soeedv and only Effectual Remedy in • Sdfo?2lu PriSS DiseE. Weakness of th.B.ck YE Palp”u'ton P o J f the Heart, Timidity, Tremblings, “f ldea9 ’ , 4 cj ( .i lt ft* Giddiness. Disease of the Head. \o!e or SkinTAffectione of the Liver, Lunge, Stem- T . , Terrible disorder. arising from the 41 rt.rvHabita ofYouth—those BtcE»i and solitary prac « more StaJ to their victims than the song of Syrens to lj,. Mariners of Ulysses, blighting their most hrUliarit or anticipations, rendering marriage Ac., impossi ■ YOUNG MEN I „ Ti-llv who have become the victima of Solitary Vice, r , ir 'iJM and deatnetive habit which annually sweeps ! I'“thousands of Young Men of the most “ ,“,..ntJand brilliant Intellect, who might other- Senates with the thunders l f 'l n'ence, or waked to ectasy the living lyre, may call witU full confidence marriage- , , ' Marrici Per«m., or Young M™ co.empUtmg marmgo, being aware of phyiical weakness, organic debility, (itfor °uVwho places himsell under the care of Dr. J. J»»y »- liriuaslv confide in hie honor ,a* a gentleman, and confi doutlv rolv upon hi* skill a* a physician. • ’ ORGANIC WEAKNESS ImmeJiatelv Cured, and full Visor Restored. Tbis Distressing Affect ion-which renders Lifel •iuJ marriage impossible—the penalty paid 1)} the of improper indulgences Young fMjimto' apt to commit cxccsscsjrom not being awar e of the dread fill consequence* that may ensue. N the subject will pretend to deny that the priwer of procreation is lotft sooner by those falling habits than by tbo prudent? Besides being deprived the pleasures of healthy offspring., the most serious and de structive symptoms to both .body and mind arise. The .y»tcm becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Fuuc tiona Weakened. Loss of Procreative Power. Nervous 1m lability. Dvspepsia. Palpitation of the Heart. Indigestion Constitutional Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough, Consumption,Decay and Death. , OFFICE, NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, Left hand side going from Baltimore street, a few doors from the corner. Fail not totobserve name and number. Letters must be paid and contain a stump. The Doc tor’s Diplomas hang in his office . A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS. 'So Mtrcury or Niueont Drug*- 08. JOHNSON. J . Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. Grad uate from one of the moat eminent Colleges in the United ] States, and the greater part of whose life baa been spent in the hospitals of London, Paris, Philadelphia and else where. baa effected some of the most astonishing cures ; that were ever known; many troubled with ringing in the head and ears when asleep,, great nervousness, being alarmed at sudden sounds, baahfulness, with frequent blushing, attended sometimes with derangement of mind, were cured immediately. TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE- Dr, J. addresses’all those who have injured themselves by improper Indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin both body and mind, unfitting them for either business, study, society or marriage. This* are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro duced by early habita of yonth, vis: Weakness of the Back and Limbs. Pains In the Head, Dimness of Sight, Loss of Muscular Power. Palpitation of the Heart, Dys pqpsy, Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Dlges . live Functions, General Debility, Symptoms of (jousump lion, Ec. ! . Mbstallt.— Tbe fearful effects of the mind we much to be dreaded—Loss of Memory, Confusion of Ideas, De pression of spirits, Evil-Forebodings, Aversion to Society, MfDlstrust, Love of Solitude, Timiditj, debate some of the evils produced. . Thocsasbs of persons of all ages can now judge what is the cause of their 1 declining health, losing their .vigor, be coming weak, pale, nervous and emaciated, having a sin gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of consumption YOUNG MEN Who have injured themselveu by a certain practice in dulged in when alone, a habit frequently learned from evil companions, or at school, the effects of , which are nightly felt, eren when asleep, and if not cured renders marriage imposible, and destroys both body, should apply immediately. 1 What a pity that a young man, the hope of bis .country, the darling of his' parents, should be snatched from all prospects and enjoyments of life, by the consequence of deviating from the path of nature, and indulging in, a certain secret habit. Such persons must, before contem plating MARRIAGE. reflect that a sound mind and body are the meet ;neceasary requisites to promote connubial happiness. Indeed, with out these, the Journey through life becomes a weary pil grimage; the prospect hourly darkens to the View; the mind becomes shadowed with despair and filled With the melancholy reflection that the happiness ot another be comes blighted with our own. Disease of imprudence. When the misguided and imprudent votary Of pleasure finds that be has, imbibed the seeds of this painfuldis* ease, it too often happens that an ill-timed sense of shame, or dread of discovery, deters him from applying te those who, from education and respectability, can alone be friend him, delaying till the constitutional symptoms of this horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcera ted sore throat, diseased nose, nocturnal pain s In.the head sad limbs, dimness of sight, deafness, nodes on the shin hones and 'arms, blotches on the head, face and extremi ties, progressing with frightful rapidity, tilt at last* the palate of the month or the hones of the nose fall in, and the victim of this awful disease becomes a horrid object of commiseration, till death puts a period to bis dreadful •sufferings, by sending him to “that Undiscovered Country from whence no traveller returns.” It a mdanctioly fact that thousands ' fall victims to ibto terrible disease, owing to the unskillful ness of Igno rant pretenders, who, hy the use of that jDeadly Jhriton* V'reury. ruin the constitution and'• make the residue of Uf“ miserable. _ STRANGERS : L , i nut not your lives, or health to the care of the many t’uleamed and Worthless Pretenders, destitute of knowi ng';, name or character, who copy Dr. Johnston’s adver tisements, or style themselves, in the newspapers, regn •wly Educated Physicians, incapable of Curing, they keep - T °b trilling month after month, taking their filthy and poisonous compounds, or as long as the smallest fee can be obtained, and in despair, leave yon with ruined health tfl *‘?h over your galling disappointment. J>r. Johnston is the only Physician advertising* His credential or diplomas always hang in h» office. His remedies or treatment are unknown toi all others, prepared from a life spent In the great hospitals of Europe. first in the country and a more extensive Pritnif. Prac txt* any other Physician in the world. INDORSEMENT OF THE PRESS. The many thousand*. cured at this year after W ftn ** the numerous important Surgic#' operations LT 0 ”?* 1 by Johnston, by the reporters of the Clipper,” and many other notices of ve appeared again and again before . the public, . stan(lin ? ** « gentlemen of character and re sponsibility, I* a sufficient guarantee tolhe affljcted. V ■»*>* O'SEASES speedily cubed. !*” re ? flT6 writiugfhonld state geana send portion of adrertUementdeacribing irmniniiiß irttHI 0 ?’ ,honlcl be particular In directing their letter* to .hi. Institution, in the following manner; M. JOHMSTON/1i.0., Of the Baltimore Lock Hospital, Maryland. .11. C. DSBN, NIGHT SCENE AFTER THE RATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG. Far away Crow his borne, in a bright sunny clime. Whore the soft'geoUe sephyr was sighing, 'At the lone hour of night, (haring fought bis last time, A poor wounded soldier lay dying. Mo loved ones stood round him to whisper of hope, MoTond hand his weakness sustaining. But alone through the valley of death be must grope. And he felMhat the life-tide was waning. 6 00 10 00 14 00 10 00 U 00 20 00 25 00 '4O 00 u 00 J 76 io oo THE DYIHC SOLDIER. BY A. TAN DTAE. fttST MICHIGAN INFANTRY. ’Tis true that a comrade bad crept to bis aide. But be. too, was languished and weary, And yet to console and to aid hkn be tried, And the dying man blessed him sincerely. 0, come! welcome death, and relieve me of pain Come now in my moment of sorrow. I fear not your dust, and your power I disdain. For my soul shall be free on the morrow. I once fondly hoped that I might, reach my home. To die ’mid the friends of life’s morning. Bnt bright angels beckoned from Heaven’s asure dome, And I felt ’twas my last final warning. 'Then he turned to the comrade who watched by fals bed. And gave him a sign to draw nigh him, Saying, in a low whisper, “ Come, lean down your head. For I’m taint, and I think 1 am dying ” Then be drew from his pocket a likeness, anl said. Take this to my wife 2 oh, bow often I’ve gazed on those features, how many fears shed. ~ While at served my harsh nature to soften. Tee, take it, my friend, and preserve it for me, And be kissed it with dying affection. Baying, woojd that that loved one once more I could see, Oh, God! do thou be her protection! And here Is this Bible—my mother's last gift— From th« vices of camp it has shielded. My spirit above life’s dull cares it did lift. And joy beyond measure it yielded. Take this as a gift of affection from mo. And oh, for the sake of the giver. Do then read it often; thy guide il will be. As ’tie mine over Death’s silent river. And here is this letter, read this to menow. for I feel that my eye-sight is failing. ’Tis the last from my wife—a true woman’s last vow— Which I kept when the foe wore assailing. Tes, read it, for though miles of distance divide. By'tiie pen's magic power she has spoken. And even in death, though she's not by side. I am blessed with affection’s last token. My children, God bksa them ! they once were my pride ’T was for them that I braved every danger; Tell them for bis country their dear father died. In the land of the foe man and stranger. Now, comrade, good-by 2 then his spirit took flight To that land free from sorrow and sighing. Where the bright sun of glory excludeth the night. And there's no mure wounded nor dying. Thus, daily and hourly, some brave soldier dies In tattle or out upon picket; He knows not his fate'till the swift ballet flies From 4> a ravage” concealed in the thicket. But the great world moves on, without heeding the loss, And their names are uhhonored in story. But like the fine gold-dust o’eripread by the dross, They shine in their own modest glory. I RATHER THINK I WILL. Oh! I’ll tell you of a fellow. Of a follow 1 have seen, i Who is neither white nor yellow. But is altogether green, lie has told me of a cottage, Of a cottage on a hill; And he begged me to accept him. But I hardly think I will. Now the tears the creature wasted. .Were enough to turn a mill; Then his name it isn’t charming, v For It’s only common •* BQI ;** And be wishes me to wed him. Bat f hardly think 1 will. And be begged me to accept him. But 1 hardly think I will. O he whispered of devotion, , Of devotion pure and deep, Bat it seemed so very silly, That I nearly fell asleep. And he thinks It would be pleasant, \ As we Journey down the hill, To go hand in hand together, Bnt 1 hardly think 1 will. lie was here last night to see me. And be made so long a stay, 1 began to think the blockhead, Never meant to go away. At first I learned to hate him. And 1 know 1 hate him still. Yet he urges me to have him, Bnt 1 hardly think I-will. I'm sore 1 wouldn’t choose him, Bnt the very deuce is in it; For be says UI refuse him. That fas couldn’t live a minute 1 And yon knew, the blessed Bible, Plainly says,“we must not kill,” So I’ve thought the matter over. And I rather think I willl Jfrlwt THE PEAIEIE EOBBEE. On a distant prairie at nightfall, a way worn and weary traveller was overtaken by a snow storm. When the first few flakes came softly dropping down, he looked eagerly around in hope of discerning a place of shelter, hut none was to be seen— only the reckless waste of rolling lands and far off hills in the direction whither he was going—nab far off he feared he never could reach thorn. With the departure of light the snow began falling, the wind blew keener, the road soon hidden from view, the traveller felt that he was lost on a trackless waste, without a star to guide him across the dangerous country. “This is terrible!” said he aloud. “I fear much I shall never come to my des tination. If I had but a compass and a light I should not fear, for if I could resist ALTOONA, PA. ; THURSDAY, JUNE 26, 1862. the effects of the cold long enough to reach the hills, there I could find human habi tations, or at least the shelter of a rock.— Now I may go in a circle till I freeze, and be no nearer help' What a fool I was to the river - side and cross the prairie just for the sake of a few miles more or less of journey. No matter; I must even battle it out now—Heaven helping.” And battle it out he did, most manfully. He drew his cap down over his ears and brow, and his fur collar up over his mouth, and thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets, pressed on through the yielding snow. The gloogi increased, the wind sharper and through his heavy clothes the traveller began to feel the effects of the cold. His feet grew numb, his arms chilled, and after an hour’s rapid walking he suddenly paused. , “And do I know whither I am going?” he exclaimed. “ Perhaps I have already turned aside from the straight line, and am wandering on the verge of destruction. — O! that I could shake off this drowsy feel ing that is stealing over me! I know what it is—the precursor of a rest in this cold winding sheet of snow. Great Hea- O t , ven, I am freezing to death!” shrieked he, ; bounding forward with renewed energy.— ; “ Action is life, and life is too sweetiose yet!” He hurried along with a springing mo i tion, stamping his feet "vigorous at every | step, and swinging his arms to keep the ! blood in circulation. Yet with all his ef : forts, he knew the angel of death was fold ing his white wings silently around him. “Despair—no!” he cried, “not while I the memory of mv loved wife and dear children is left me. I will struggle on for your sakes, and fight the storm, to ; the last extremity. O, just Heaven, for ; the sake of the innocent ones whose only I stay is my right arm, help me to resist — ! help me to triumph'!” At this moment he plunged into a hol low, his feet strode over ice, and he heard the voice of a streamlet singing of life and action benath its icy crust. At the same time the smell of wood smoke saluted his nostrils. “O, thou who reignest above,” he ejac ulated, “ I thank Thee that Thou hast heard my prayer. Help is near me.” He reeled heavily onward through the blinding snow, and saw just before him a low shed. One more struggle and he fell against it. In an instant he divined its character. With a last desperate effort he found the door, threw it open, and rushed in, flung himself at full length upon I the floor, knowing only that he wag in an j atmosphere reeking with fumes of bacon, and warm with the smoke which rose from a pan of smothered coals in the centre of the place. It was a settler’s rude smoke house left to care for itself during the long winter’s night, and the traveler’s heart sent up i tribute to Heaven for this place of refuge in the desert of snow. In the large log cabin in the valley of the streamlet, Milly Dean sat alone. Her husband had gone to a distant town, and the young wife was left with her baby.—> Accustomed to the solitude, she felt safe, and sat in contentment before the blazing fire; the flames leaping right joyfully up the chimney, and green legs sizzled and cracked in the heat like things in the life. Out of doors the wind was howling drear ily, and the'snow falling heavily; but Mary cared not, for it only made the fire more cheerful. There came a rapping at the door. “How strange! What can that be at our door this wild night?” she said to her self, as die arose and went into the little entry! “ Who is there?” she asked. “For Heaven’s sake, let me in; lam freezing to death!” was the reply. “ Who are you? and how came you in this lonely place on such an evening as this?” “lam a traveller from below; Host my way and am dying with cold. For pity’s sake let me in, or I shall perish!” Milly hesitated. She was alone; and it was three miles to the nearest neighbor’s. What should she do ? She paused in per plexity. “O, save me—save me! lam dying!” were the words that met her hearing.— There was a heavy fall against the sill, and then low moans. Her woman’s nature could stand no more; true to the instinct of her being, she unbarred the door and threw it open. A closely muffled figure reeled by her into the room, and shutting the door she followed. On reaching the fire-place, the stranger threw off his dis guise and stood erect and strong, without a sign of inconvenience from the of the weather. Milly retreated from him in amazement; but recovering herself and putting the beat face on the matter, she tremulously addressed the man:— “I am sorry, sir, you are cold. It is a hitter night to be abroad. Will you sit by the fire?” and she pushed a chair for ward. The man made no response, but stoop ing over, ran his fingers through the blaze. Then he turned and stared at her with a look which made her blood run cold.— She would pretend there were others in frSDEPENDEST IK EVERYTHING.] die house, for she already felt afraid of the man, and bitterly regretted having ad mitted him. “ Would you like to see some of the men folks, sir?” she inquired. “If so, I will call them from their beds.” The man laughed hoarsely and replied; “Milly Dean, for that I believe is your name, you cannot deceive me.' You are alone in this house. I took particular care to ascertain that before I came. So you can make yourself easy on that score, and do as I bid you.” , Do as you bid me!” exclaimed Milly, in terror: “what do you want of me?” “ I want the twelve hundred .dollars in gold your husband received for his produce two days ago. You probably know where it is.” Milly sprang into the entry and would have fled, but the stranger caught her by the wrist and dragged her roughly back. •* You cannot escape me, young woman,” he said “You wall find it most conve nient to make a clear breast of it at once. It will be better for you.” Milly strove to release her arm. The rough treatment die received aroused her temper, and indignation overcome all other feelings. • “ Let me go, you scoundrel, let me go, or I will call for help,”'she cried. “Call, you fool,” said the ruffian, “and much good may it do you. Keep yourself still and tell me where the money is.” “I will not!” she exclaimed, her eyes flashing fire. “ You wall not,” he then replied, “ w e shall see.” He released her wrist so violently that she reeled half across the room. Then he siezed her sleeping infant from its cradle, and held it at arms length almost into the blazing fire, so that the terrified mother expected to see its light garments catch the flame. “ Now r then where’s the money ? Speak out quick or hear your baby shriek with pain. I will burn it to death before your eyes if you do not tell me where the money is.” “ Monster give me my child,” shrieked Milly, endeavoring to reach the little one. “ Let me have my baby.” But every effort was frustrated# for again and again the: strong hand of the robber thrust her back. “ See, its dothes will be on fire in a minute,” said the man, putting the help less innocent closer to the flames. The mother looked into his eyes. She saw there the look of heartless determination. She became aware that the cotton gar ments of the child were smoking with heat. “ How shalf it be ?” asked the ruffian. “Hurry*or the child dies. I have no time to waste here.” “ Anything—anything, only give me my child!” she cried. The next instant it was handed to her, and she sank upon the floor and folded it to her bosom. “Come,” exclaimed the man, touching her rudely with his foot, “you have not told me where the money is.” “In the box on the. upper shelf,” she replied, pointing to the closet. “So far so well. It is nearly all gold. I will pocket it with your leave, or with out your leave, just as you please.” He filled his pockets with the golden com, and threw the empty box into the fire. ! Then he came and Stood beside her. “ Put your babyin the cradle,” he said, “if you wish to save its life. I have other business for you.” “What do you mean?” cried Milly, eyeing the man with suspicion. “ Let me have him,” said he, trying to take it. “No, no, I will put the baby in the cradle myself. You shall not touch the poor little thing. Now, sir, what is it?” she continued, almost choking with excite ment, after having laid the pretty infant on its downy place; of rest; she stood erect and waited the reply. “ I am going to kill you!” said the man. “ Kill me,” she exclaimed her face growing pale with terror. “Kill me! What have I ever done to you that you should kill me?” “Nothing, nothing, my dear, only you know that you have seen me, and you will know me again.” and he advanced upon her. “O, sir, let me live. Have you not done enough to take my husband’s money, without depriving him of his wife too ? I will never say a' word against you if you will only spare me—only spare me!” As she spoke she clasped her hands and looked imploringly at him. “ I am sorry that I cannot safely grant! your request,” he responded. “ There is no help for it, so come along out doors.” He reached out his hand to grasp Milly, but the instinct of self-preservation was strong upon her. She evaded him, flew to the chimney piece, snatched her husband’s | loaded rifle from the hooks on which it. I hung, cocked and presented it at the breast of the robber. Her motions were so rapid that before he could prevent it, her finger had pressed the trigger and there was an explosion. But with equal readiness the man stepped asidb, the ball passed over his head, and the next instant the grip was on her throat. ‘‘l’ll teach you how to handle arms,” j WHAT A BAYONET CHAE6K IS. he said. “You would have killed me, It is that? the battle at would you’ “I will show ;you a tnck pj ttebnr g Landing undoubtedly was, but worth two of that” . , one bayonet wound has been discovered by “Mercy, mercy,” cned the terrified our the re, and that was inflicted woman. -. . by a barbarous rebel upon a sick soldier “ There’s no mercy for you, he ejacu- j - n _ Some surprise has been lated. He dragged her into tho'entry, and ex p regge d a t this fact: there is a general flung open the door. “Out with y ou lnto impression that after a bayonet charge, if the snow.” . v . , the contesting forces are composed of brave “Hold! what is this. exclaimed a me „ there should be a great number of deep-toned voice. “Unhand that woman, Buch woun ds. The truth is that a bayonet you scoundrel!” charge is a very different affair from what A powerful man stood in the doorway. - t k generally supposed. In the first He dealt the,robber a blow between the p i aces the regiment or other force which eyes which struck him back mto the entry. the though probably ranged His grasp of MiUy was relinquished, and M near M opposite its she fell to the floor. ■ . enemy, cannot keep up this formation “O, sir,” she cried to thejiew comer du • of a m a e or more of “ 9ave me - The ™ an 'J 8 !, ground which must be traversed by it be would murder me that I would not tell it fore £oe k readied. Even with the “ ear not > ma dam, he shill pot harm and bravest men, one end ot you,” responded the stranger. bellow, the Une behind, and if the enemy surrender yourself. ... should stand still to receive the charge, “Get out of my way,” cned the robber, . a the wonld be engaged making a nidi for the door, and sinking at practicC) however, military at the stranger with a bowie knife, Giv- confcgB that bayonets are very ing back a few steps, the stranger seized rarely actually crossed. A charge usually the robber by the collar, whirled him one of three turns; either the charg- ’ around, and threw huh on h?s face in the . by its firmness and impetuosity, snow. The robber struggled, but the throws the opposing force into a panic, and stranger knelt heavily on the small ot his u breaks rank and flieB without awaiting back, and grasped his hair. ; . the thrust of the bayonet; or, by firmness “Lie still,” said the stringer, or and a well delivered volley at short dis will send a bullet through your bram. tance, the side which is attacked drives off The robber felt the cold barrel of a pis- other . • in the f ewest gages, both tol at his ear, and obeyed. MiUy quickly gideg well> and theilj i n the words brought ropes, at her rescuer*? request, and of one of our most exper i enced generals, the robber was bound hand and foot. « t he best sergeant decides the fate of the “It was a strange Providence,’ the new . charge »_berause only the sergeant and comer said, “that overtook me with a snow one rf tfae men %t the end of the storm on the praine, and forced mean H ne which first comes in contact with the hour ago to take refuge in your smoke- enemy , B line are reaUy engaged during the house, nearly dead with cold; f ew de cisive moments, and thus the con- MiUy acknowledged the truth of the re- d , individual bravery and strength of mark, and she knelt and thanked her a dozen men, who alone cross Father in Heaven for her deliverance. bayonets with the enemy, gain the victory The next day Milly’s husband caine for Bide to which they belong. «What home, and when he had teen told all, he do yQu we keep our bayonets remarked: . , bright for, but to scare the enemy!” a “This fellow was in the tavern at the d igtinguished general said to one who was village, the day I sold my produce. It • n „„; r ; n „ j n to t b e nature of bayonet will learn me a lesson—never to let stran- chargeg . and a Marshal of France wrote: gers know when money is plenty with me, l( j t k Qot the number of killed, but the lest they should be tempted, to crime and number of frightened, that decides the issue bring ruin on me and mine.?’ 0 f a battle.” Jomini says distinctly that That day some sixty or seventy men fae m but one bayonet fight in all bis gathered at the house of Mr. Dean* military experience; and it is related by robber was recognized as a notorious horse Qne of the historians of Napoleon’s wars, thief, who had long infested the neighbor- a t w jj en e French were once charging hood. There was a summary tnal, and tbe w ith the bayonet, when the then in dogged silence, the wretch who wou j d no t or. could not retreat, would have burned a harmless infant and tbere enaued aB pectacle unexpected by the murdered a faithful and gentle woman, o £s cerBon either side;. The French and submitted to his, inevitable fate. A rudely p rua gj a) ri soldiers, when they got within constructed gallows and a stout rope, ended Btriking distance, apparently by mutual his existence. Soon the thinly settled dubbed their muskets, and fought frontiers of the West do they mete out jus- deapera tely with their anns reversed, tice to offenders against property and me. About seventeen hundred dollars in bills were found on the person of the robber, besides the gold he bad taken |from Mrs. Dean. As there were no claimants for the hlllftj at the suggestion of the stranger, whose life had been saved from the anger of the winter storm by the shelter he had found in the smoke-house, a thousand dol lars of the seventeen hundred were pre sented to MiUy in consideration of what she had passed through, and thje remainder yras divided around. On that very spot there: is now a thriv ing town, and one of the finest residences in the place is that whqjre dwells MiUy Dean and her husband. VThere is no moral;philosophy that ■will teach ns anything better than Christ taught. There is no conception of purity, that is more transcendent mid beautiful than that which was in the life of the Saviour. There is no idea of dis interested benevolence to he compared with that which is portrayed by the New Tes tament. Love akd Sugar.— “Do you believe in second love, Mrs. McQuade?” “Dot believe in second love ? Humph! If a man buys a pound of sugar, isn t it sweet ? and when it’s gone don’t he want another pound, and isn’t that sweet, too? Troth, Murphy, I believe in second love.” «ST An old saying current in European military circles, runs in this wise: The Spanish to build forts. The French to take them. The English to hpld them to render this complete the following should be added; The Confederates to evacuate them. fyAn English editor mskes the following sweeping assertion" What I a man and never in love! Pshaw! he must have a heart of ice, a soul as lifeless as a corn-cob,, the gizzard of a goose, and a head as sappy as a cocoa nut.” yy-Qriilp says, when ;he sees kisses be tween women, it reminds him of two hand some unmatched gloves—charming things for their proper mates, but good for noth ing, that way. 9- As a man drinks he generally grows: reckless ; in this case, the mpre drams the fewer scruples. ’ EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. Pretty Good Joke. — A London paper tells a pretty good one on an old bachelor of that place, who was present at a But ter Fair, recently held in that town. A lady who enjoys a joke hugely asked him if he would Uke to see the milking machine, •one of which was on exhibition. The gentleman, of course, signified his assent, when Mrs. conducted him to a far cornet of the room, where a very young person was drawing substance from the maternal fount, and, pointing to the cher ub, Mrs. ; —; said that was one of the most perfect arrangements for the use in question ever invented. Such a roar ol laughter followed as was likely to bring down the plastering. Nose and Lips. —A sharp nose and thin lips are considerd by physiognomists certain signs of shrewish disposition. As a criminal was once on his way to the gal lows, proclamation was made that if any woman would marry him under the gal lon's, with the rope around his meek, he would receive a pardon. “ I will,” cried .a cracked voice from the middle of the crowd. The culprit desired the eager candidate for matrimony to approach the curt, which she did; and he began to examine her countenance. “ Nose like a knife,” said he, “ Kps like wafers. Drive on hangman.” U « Mister Magnanimity, father wants the loan of your newspaper for a few min utes, if yon please.” “ Run back, my boy and tell your father that I will lend, him my breakfast with pleasure but I haven’t got through with my paper yet.” A young lady who lately gave an order to a milliner for a bonnet, said;— You are to make it plain, add at the same smart, as I sit in a conspicuous place in the church.” fgr A public speaker should, never lose sight of the thread of his discourse; like a busy needle, he should always have the thread in his eye. . , Or Disdain not your inferior, though poor! since be may be much your superior in wisdom, and the noble endowments of the mind. NO. 21.