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SBY AND !
WDBftSIGNED ANNQCN
SdUleni ofAltooo* ustTldaU* lh«t b.
Td »lw tovokae of
XMOnWTIOHAIUJSS, KWtt, **«!»
i —•‘r *~“*“r3Htn
•. PKFSKK, RAISINS, 4C.
i U «11 MtMßB«(tbe y«at.
ss, Sugar, Molasses, Bom*r.
mi> WHITE WHEAT FLUUH.
IIKAT FLOUR. CORK HEAL. AC.
• sod for »«lc in Urge qqutltic*.
resnjl price mj stock apdyao will Aim
cbesp ns «nr in town. ; •
is j JACOB wihj;.
RE AT QUESTION \V U |('ti
aiv* ill** mind of every petxm -\jugt 1
[I .get the Lent article ter tt&WBBl
other matters, the*
aU attempt to direct, but if yOU ,^H.
; in the Uni* of
K)TS OU SUCKS *
an examination ot hie *tock nod vnrk.
tiasiUy i*u hand an awirtmeut oHtodCftfSiHK
rlcJtc.. which be offer* at fair prices.
apecial attention to'cm*join «sgc, oil -
rhrranted to giro witis/artioh. Kcffliftboltl
sire employod
iyshop'i* on Virginia street,, immediate!
S’** Drug Store
:*S7-tn
U FETTINGEE’S
JOHN B. JtOBBKTS
pal Agency,
I.L. No. 7, MAIN STREET
ii BOOKS, BLANK BOOKS,
IiUY, CONFECTIONABIES
uRS & TOBACCO.
NOTIONS IKGREAT
&XBTANTI.T ON HAND. t
POLICE GAZETTE -
it Journal gf drint and Orimimli 1» i"
Ijr. coa i* vfcMXcbeSlatad Um«|b«ui
p r cont»iiw ott the Anst:9(Ei*}% .Oiftiitoi
wwie JSdUorlalt onthe ««nx, together »11 k
Criminal Matter., not tohe found in mo
*n»42 per -for ri.tnoßO' ll - ''
i«tOCTil*roi(who|ihonUl writ* ttMr nanx ■
wmtyandStatewnerelji® t*»M* pt*N.<
' Tot). wnSxaßaa* *co,
; * Pn»*r. of New Toctf
JKw> Tart CU*
JFECTXONEJSY
843&08'
RSGRIBER WOULD IX-
Htixetu of Altoona and V>c|»itythat kl ‘
KT.JSOT and TROW «®WS*fc •>»*'■
£,rery li««t article* tobehod, Onilpi.xrim
talon on : :
TER SALOON
an, to)ililckl«Wl»«w.|||kj!sff'
tin* tUeeeonm. -
Kit BRKAD *
i»K that he can redder tunyt*”*”*’ 1111
atoreond ealooo i. on V irgiri**tteet,te 1
Jon’. Hall. BBO.Wp I,
tO.lMf-tf
nxicyu&<aiATAßMiBH-jpt9
right,to moirafoctnr* ,ta*.-P9SH*S
« 09 tbit nnr. MJ WgP' ffg „
BriorMUwytd
ixtoor dbeobr. «*WjW&Mffrtion.
fit amnt there no . jHJgwj?’
late, often liecane
tof vIU
i Ogee In 3to*ontc
3b LARD OljLS,'^ 1
■nine fluid. Carbon 08,
AT McCORMIXagSfff!!
aakartment at
<—a -
fo&ICK'
'A**
m*
I*. *, ,
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McCBITM & DEKN.
»PU*HI
■Js&fiwt,
VOL- 7
THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE.
UcCUb'-M,
PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS.
~uniiui.vl>»y«We invariably m advance,) *1,60.
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' ,111 1,.. charged according to the above rates.
idvertiseinVn .< not marked with the number of Inser
.iesired, will he continued till forbid and charged ac
‘,ll,ll:the above terms. . ..
notices live cents per line for every insertion,
oilman notices exceeding ten line*. Bfty cents a aqua e
liuf- 1 >*r I** 4B
i„< squar**
BALTIMORE LOCK HOSPITAL
AS AKBFUOB FROM QUAC^ivRY
The Only Place Where a Cure Can
be Obtained-
DK. JOHNSON has discovered the
wu *t Certain, Speedy and only Effectual Kepiedy in
i , world .ill Private Diseases. Weakness of-the Back
Liiub». strictures, Affections of the Kidneys and Biad
, l„iolufttary Discharges, Impotency, General Debility,
' rv Dyspepsy, Languor. Low Spirits. Confusion
■ ij-as. Palpitation of the Heart. Timidity. Tremblings.
‘, -»f Sight or Giddiness. Disease of the iHead,
r { t . Nose or Skin, Affections of the Liver, Lungs,Stom
n ir Bowels—those Terrible disorders arising the
v.iiuri Habits of Youth—those secret and solitary prac
s more fatal to theii victims than thesoneof Syftus to
ii- \Urioers of Ulysses, blighting their nrifet hrilliant
[ y M anticipations, rendering marriage .Ac., Intpossl-
YOUNG MEN
.i.fcibllv who have become the victims of Solitary > ice,
: a ] ( .treadful and deductive*habit which annually sweeps
in utuiuu'lygiave thousands of Y-oung Men of the most
talents and brilliant intellect, who might dther
4JV. i,►nlruuced listening Senates; with the thunders
..i...juvnce. or waked to ectasy the living lyre, m*y call
auk hill confidence.
MARRlAGE
'larri«*»l Persons, or Young Men cutempUtmg marriage,
■..■ um aware of physical weakness, organic debility, defor
,utv. i<.. speedily cured. '
wll■ > places himself under the care of Dr. J. may re
■./. >ii *iv .-.nfid" in his liouor as a gentleman, and confi
‘•l.tiv relv ut>“o his skill as a physician.
ORGANIC WEAKNESS
l :;mertiaiely Cured, and full Vigor Restored.
T’„l, Uistiessiug Affection — which renders Life miserable
■i. l marriage impusaihU—is the penalty paid Uy the
> .cf itU' of improper indulgences. Young persons are to
■ i j commit excese*s from not being awaie of the dread
til -uii'<'-jUeiK > c , s ibat may ensue. Now, who that under
• i.»ini- ih,. subject will pretend to deny that the power of
.r r-r-ati 'U is lust her by those falling into improper
hii.it- than by the prudent? Besides being deprived
|.leisure* of healthy .Spring, the most serious and de
»tructiv»' symptom* t>> both body and mind arise. The
-.stem becomes Deranged, tin- Physical and Mental Func
liwn* Weakened. Le- ..f Pr-»n-ativ‘* Power. Nervmis Irri
tability. Dyspepsia. Palpitation of the Heart. Indigestion
Constitutional Debility, a Waiting of the Frame, Cougli.
'‘otisumption. Decav and Death.
OFFICE; NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET,
L< t' liand side going from Baltimore street, a few doors
:V..m tin* corner. Fail nut to’obsgrve name and number
h-ti-i-* must be paid and contain a stamp. Tho. Do
c Diplomas hang in his office
A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS.
Xo Mercury or Xus?an x Drugf.
OR.' JOHNSON.
Member of the Hoyal College of Surgeons, London,: Grad
uate from one of the most eminent Colleges in the United
<utes. and the greater part of whose life has been spent in
-iiic- i> ».«pitaU of London, Paris, Philadelphia and. else*
*h*Te. has effected some of the most astonishing cures
[hat were ever known; many troubled with ringing in the
head and ears when asleep, great nervousness,-, being
ilariQAd at sudden sounds, bashfulness, with frequent
Mudiing, attended sometimes with derangement of mind,
w-r? cured immediately.
TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE-
Dr. J. addresses all those who have injured themselves
i-y improper indulgence and solitary habits, which min
loth body and mind, unfitting them for either business.
•ta-Iy. society or marriage.
Taese are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro
tocol! by early habits of yo.uth, viz: Weakness'uf the
Hick and Limbs, Pains in the Head. Dimness of Sight,
L"« of Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart, Dys
p-f-»y, Nervous Irritability. Derangement of the,; iDiges
tivf- Functions, General Debility, Symptoms of Consump
tion. 4c.
'Un'Taixy,—The fearful effects of the mind are much to
v- dreaded—Loss of Memory, Confusion of Ideas, De
iT--s«iou of spirits, Kvil-Forebodings. Aversion to Society.
Mf-DUtrost, Lore of Solitude, Timidity, 4c„ are some of
:h- evils produced.'
Thousands of persons of all ages can now judge what is
ih« cause of their declining health, losing their vlgor.be
• 'ruing weak, pale, nervous and emaciated, having a sin
gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of
consumption.
-YOUNG MEN ♦
Wii.» imv<> niiured themselves by a certain. practice m
inls-d in when alone, a habit frequently learned from
•vii companions, or at school, the effects of which are
nisUtly felt, even when asleep, and If not cured .renders
■Turringy iraposible, and destroys both mind and body,
•ImuM apply immediately.
VTiiat a pity that a young mun, the hope of his country,
fin* darling of his parents, shonld be snatched from all
i ro*p«'ciB and enjoyments of life, by the consequence of
'Aviating from the path of nature, and indulging in a
■'•rtain secret habit. Such persons MUST, before contem
plating
MARRIAGE.
.-.•th-ct tliai a s*>uud mind and body are the most nfivessary
r-'jiiisiren to promote connubial happiness. Indeed, with
•>ir these, the journey through life becomes a weary pil
grimage: the prospect hourly darkens to the view; the
tuijnl become* shadowed with despair and filled with the
melancholy reflection that the happiness of another, be
com*-s blighted with'our own.
DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE.
>• hen the misguided and imprudent votary of pleasure
that he has imbibed the seeds of this painful dis
'*-**■ it too often happens that an ill-timed sense of shame,
>r dr*su} ofdiscovery, deters him. from applying to those
shi. from education and respectability, can alone be
fri-nd him, delaying till the constitutional symptoms o£
thiA horrid disease make their appearance, such as uicera
sore throat, diseased nose, nocturnal pain s in the bead
sad limbs, dimness of sight, deafness, nodes on line shin
wae* and arms, blotches on the bead, face aud extrerai-
Um.progressing with frightful rapidity,till at!last the
of the mouth or the bones of the nose fall to, and
the victim of this awful disease becomes i horrid object of
■-JtnmUeration* till death puts a period to hisdreadfnl
sufferings, by sending him to “that Undiscovered Country
'rom whence no traveller returns.”
ft U a melanchoig foci that thousands fail victims to
thir terrible disease, owing to the unsfcillfulnesa pf Igno
rJ Q t pretenders, who, by the use of that Deadly J&riton*
tnrciry. rain the constitution and make the residue of
W-miserable.
, i STRANGERS
‘Hist D gt your lives, or health to the care uf ihf many
Lniearno*! and Worthless Pretenders, destitute of ;knowl
name or character, who copy Dr. Johnston’S adver
laments, or style themselves, in the newspapers, regu
■v Educated Physicians, incapable of Coring, they keep
<u ‘ trifling month after month, taking thelc filthy and
poisonous compounds, or as long as the smallest fee can
obtained, and in despair, leave you with ruined \ health
* M?n 6rer your galling dUappolntment.
,' Johnston is the only Physician advertising; !
Uu credential or diplomas always hang in his office.
* i,s rel uwlies or treatment are unknown to all others,
a g P eDt to the great hospitals of finrope,
,■ ?u 8t ln country and a more extensive Private Pmo
tnan any other Physician in the world.
T,.„ INDORSEMENT of the press:;
.. .. i'“- T cured at this Institution, year after
nerfel* i V lO “uuteroos important Surgical operations
“S, IJ/l J / Johnston, witnessed by the reporters- of the
»hiSi cl 'PP er t” •»<! »»BT other papers, notices of
WrMe, w? ? Pt l? ri!d asKiu and ORuin before the public,'
■ eon.ihim Bta “' Jinf L M * gentlemen of character arid re
v lDl "ly, is a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted.
, No n.» IN “ISEASES SPEEDILY CURED.
* w r " r *J*‘ ,T< ‘d miles* potat»pai<* vnd containing a
»R6aSd«^H UM, i. 0 i n tho r< ;P l y Persons writiugahonld state
PerJm " da <* v ertisemcnt describing symptoms
l«t Q r n^^r t » ,l ' d ba Portlonlsr in
“* to. this In.tltntlon, in the following manner ;
. JOHN M. JOHNSTON. 111. B .
Of the Baltimore Lock Hospital, Maryl'a '
aatu?
BIS
li. C. DKRN
rxiOl4 "f \DVKRTIBINO
2 do. do,
1 in^rtton
iikmt gorttg.
IMPERISHABLE.
The pure, the bright, the beautiful,
That stirred oar hearts in youth;
The impulse to a wordiest prayer.
The dreams of love and troth;
The longings alter something lost.
The spirits yearning cry;
The strivings after better hopes—
These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need,
The kindly word.in grief's dark hour.
That proves the friend indeed!
The plea for mercy softly breathed
When justice threatens nigh ;
The sorrow of a contrite heart—
These things shall never die.
10 00
The memory of a clasping hand.
The pleasure of a kiss,
And all the trifles sweet and frail
That make up love's first bliss;
If with a firm, unchanging faith.
And holy trust and high.
Those hands have clasped, those lips have met—
These things shall never die.
The cruel and the bitter word
That wounded as it fell.
The chilling want of sympathy
We feel.but never tell;
The hard repulse that chills the heart.
Whose hopes were bounding high.
In an unfading record kept—
These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find sbme work to do;
Lose not a chance to waken lov*<.
Be firm, and just, and true.
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam on thee from on high.
And angel voices Say to thee—
These things shall never (lie.
|j||isteliaa|.
A HUNT ON THE HIGHWAY.
FROM THE JOURNAL OF A POLICE OFFICER.
There was a shrewd robber somewhere.
The farm-houses were robbed; the tills of
the bars at the way-side inns were robbed:
the people had their pockets i-obbed. All
this happened in the region of country be
tween Sidney and Towstone—not a field
of vast extent —and;yet the robber, or rob
bers, could not be found. Officers had
searched in every direction, and several
suspicious-looking individuals had been
apprehended; but the real culprit still re
mained at large. One day the mail was
robbed, and on the next a man had his
pocket picked of five hundred pounds,
while riding in the stage coach—for my
narrative dates back to the old coaching
days. The money had been carried in his
breast pocket, and he knew it was stolen
from him while he was enjoying a bit of
dose on the road.
1 had been confined to my house by a
severe cold for several days, and was not
fit to go out now; but as this matter was
becoming so serious, I felt it my duty to
be on the move, and accordingly I fortified
my throat and breast with warmyfiannel,
and set forth. I had no settled plan in
my mind, for I had not yet been upon the
road, and was not thoroughly “posted up.”
A ride of five miles in my own trap
brought me to Sidney, and thence 1 meant
to take coach to Lowstone, where Sam
Stickney, one of the shrewdest of my men,
lived. Stickney had already been on the
search, and I wished to consult him before
making any decided movement. I reach
ed Sidney at half-past five in the morning
the coach left at six. Lowstone was sixty
miles distant, so 1 had a good ride before
me. During the early part of the day I
rode upon the box with the driver, and
from him 1 gained considerable informa
tion touching the various robberies that
bad been committed. He was forced to
admit that Several people had been robbed
in his stage, though he declared that he
could’nt see into it, for he liad not the
most remote idea, even of who the robber
could be.
We reached Bonnville at noon where we
stopped to dine, and when we left this
place 1 was the only passenger. At the
distance of twelve miles, at a little village
called Cawthorn, we stopped to change
horses, and here another passenger got up.
I had been occupying the forward seat, as
that happened to be wider than the others,
and gave me a better opportunity for
lying down, and when the new-comer en
tered he took the back seat. He was a
young man, I judged, and not very tali in
stature; but so completely bundled up was
he in shawls and mufflers, that his size of
frame was not easily determined. He was
very pale and coughed badly; and I at
once mode up my mind that he was far less
fit to travel .than I was. After we had
got fairly on our way I remarked to him
that I had been suffering from a severe cold,
and that this was 1 the first time I had ven
tured out for quite a number of days. He
looked at me out of a pair of dark, bright
eyes; and when he seemed to have deter
mined what manner of man I was, he
said — ,
‘I haye something worse than a cold, sir.’
He broke into a fit of coughing which
lasted a minute or so and then added :
“It won’t be a great while before I shall
take my last ride.” : '
“You are a consumptive,” I suggested.
ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1862
“Almost gone with it,” he replied.—
Again he was seized with a spasm ul cough
ing, and when he had recovered from it,
he continued—“ The disease is eating me
to pieces at the tome lime.”
He further informed me that he had
started bn a tour for his health, but that
he had given it up, and was now on his
way home, which he was anxious to reach
as soon as possible. Another paroxyism
seized him at this point, and he intimated
that he was unable to converse as the effort
brought on his cough. I had noticed this,
and had made up my blind to trouble him
no more, even before he gave me the hint.
After Ithis he drew his outer shawl more
closely about his neck and face, and having
secured an easy po&ture, he closed his ej'es,
and I was not' long in following his ex
ample. Towards the middle of the after
noon the coach stopped at a small village,
where we changed horses again, and
where four passengers got up.
This broke up the arrangement of my
friend and self for rest, as he had to take
one of the strangers upon his seat, while
I took another upon mine, the other two
occupying the middle seat. The new
comers soon broached the subject of the
robberies which had been committed in
that region, and I listened to gain infor
mation if possible: but they knew no more
than every one else knew. They had
heard all about it, and were inflated with
wonder.
One—an old farmer —asked me if I
knew anything of the robber. I told him
I knew but little of the affair in any way,
having been sick, and unable to be out
among folks. Then he asked my con
sumptive friend if he knew anything about
it. The latter raised his head from its
reclining position, and was on the point
of answering, when we heard our driver,
in quick abrupt tones, ordering some one
to get out of the road. 1 instantly put
my head out of the window to see what
the trouble was, and my eye was just quick
enough to detect a load of faggots in time
to dodge back and avoid them. The road
was quite narrow at this point, and as the
faggots were loaded very widely, it was
impossible for the driver wholly to avoid
them, and' the side of the coach was swept
by them quite smartly. I escaped without
being touched, but not so with my friend.
I heard an exclamation—l though rather a
profane one—from his lips, and on looking
towards him I saw that one of the faggots
had struck} him over the left eye, making
quite a mark upon the pale skin.
“These fellows ought to be taken up for
loading jtheir faggots out so,” said
another of the passengers.
“It’ll djo very well to load hay out wide,
for that won’t hurt nobody if it does hit
’em; but fgggots are different.”
This turned the conversation from the
subject ofithe robberies, and it was not
alluded fo again during the day.
We reached Lbwstone shortly after
dark, and; I went at once to the residence
of Mr Stickney, whom I found at home
He had been out ail day, and had made
all sorts of efforts to obtain some clue to
the prepetrators of the robberies that were
being committed, but without effect.
“I can learn nothing,” he saidj “ upon
which to hang a suspicion, iwo shops
have been robbed in this place, but not a
clue can I gain to the perpetrators.
They must be old birds.
“Have you seen Gamblit ?” I asked,”
Gamblit was the officer at Orton, a town
twelve miles distant.
“Not lately,” replied Stickney.
“He has been at work ?” I suggested.
“Yes—l am sure of it.”
“Then,” said I, “we will go over in
the morning fo Orton, and' with. Gamblit
in company we may be able to perfect some
arrangment for pursuing this investigation
to better advantage.
This met the view of my host, and so
we left the matter for the evening. On
the following morning we were up early
and as the coach would take ns directly to
Gamblit’s house, we choose that mode of
conveyance, and repaired at a seasonable
hour to the tavern for that purpose/
When we rejacbed the inn we found the
old farmer, who had been one of my fellow
passengers on the night before, stepping
about the doorway in a high state of ex
citement. He had been robbed of three
hundred pounds, and he was sure it must
have been done in the stage-coach, for he
had slept with his pocket book under his
pillow. He had not thought to look into
it when he retired, but he had found it
empty that moaning when he had got up.
He said the l wallet had been taken from
his pocket and put back again—he knew
it. As : soon as he saw me he was anxious
that ! should be searched. I allowed him
to perform the operation, and then I told
him who I was, and informed him of my
business.
“But,’’ said I, “where is the pale con
! sumptive man, who came in with us ?”
“He went away last night,” answered
the landlord, who stood near;
My first aim was to satisfy myself that
I the old man had been robbed in the stage
coach, and of this he succeeded in con
vincing me.
After this my suspicions rested upon the
consumptive man, and I believed, if I could
[INDEPENDENT IN EVEEYTHtNG.]
find him, I should find a rogue. Should
we go to Orton, or remain where we
were ?
Stickney said go |to Orton first—get
Gamblit—and then make up a programme
for action. So I bade the landlord to
keep a sharp look-out; and also spoke to
the driver who had brought me from Sid
ney, and who was how on the point of
returning; requesting him, if he saw any
thing of the pale man, to see that he was
secured. The suspicious individual had
only remained at the inn a few minutes on
the previous evening, and had then gone
away in a gig, which had come for him,
but no one could tell what direction he
had taken.
The coach for Orton soon came to the
door, and Stickney and myself took our
seats inside, the farmer having determined
to remain where he was until he heard
something about his money. There were
two other passengers inside, and two or
three outside, but they were strangers
to me. We had gone two or three miles
when the driver pulled, up before a small
farm house, where a woman and a trunk
were waiting by the garden gate. The
lady was handed into the coach, and took
a seat facing me and as she turned to
give the driver some direction concerning
her baggage, she threw her veil over her
bonnet. She was pretty—very pretty—
with rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes, and
teeth like pearls. Her hair hung in glossy
brown ringlets over her neck and shoulders,
and was a type of beauty in itself. I
looked at the rosy cheeks again—and at
the pearly teeth—and into her dark lus
trous eyes My gaze i was fixed upon the
latter point when she caught my glance, and
quickly dropped her veil. At first 1 felt
a little ashamed at having been caught in
so rude an act as that of staring at her so
boldly, but as the face was hidden from
sight, and I had an opportunity for reflec
tion, it struck me that I had seen those
features before.
Here was a study for me, and I was
buried into it at once; Where had I seen
that face ? Was it possible that I had ever
known that woman—one so lovely —
and now forgotten her ? I thought over
all the intimate friends of my wife; but
she was not to be found there. Then I
thought over all the pretty .girls I had
known before I was married; but when I
had called them all by name I remembered
that the girl before me must have been a
mere child when I was a single man. It*
was annoying—it made me provoked with
myself —to think that I could not call
of female beauty to mind. 1
whispered to Stickney, and asked him if
he had ever seen her before. He said he
had not, and joked me for being so curi
ious about a pretty face.
We stopped at a place called “Turner
Mills,” in the edge of Orton, to exchange
mails, and here I jumped out to see the
postmaster, who was an old friend of mine;
and as 1 was returning to the coach, the
thought struck me to go and look at foe
trunk which had been last put on, and see
if any name was on it. ,It was marked
with the simple initials —“A. M.” So
that was all I gained from that source. As
I came to the coach door I approached
it from behind, and as 1 cast my eyes up
I found that the beauty had her veil raised,
and was looking in at the post office, as
though anxious for the mail to come, that
we might be off. The expression of anxiety
detracted somewhat from her beauty, and
as I looked upon her now, seeing her face
in different light, 1 was struck with a sort
of snake like cast; which was perceptible
in the whole character of her features. I
was upon the point of withdrawing my
gaze, lest she should catch me a second
time, when a slight motion of her head
rolled the curls over her temple, and I
saw a faint line something like a vein over
her eye. It was a mark—a.livid scratch
—where something had struck her. It
might have been the stroke of a whip.—
But no; I quickly glided behind the coach,
and there I reflected. Such a mark as
that could be made by a whip but I was
sure that mark had hem made by a faggot f
When I returned to my seat in the
coach tbe'fair passenger’s veil was down
again. Could it be possible that my suspi
cions were correct, and that chance had
thus thrown in my way a solution' of the
problem which had vexed my deputies
so muchf Yes I was sure of it; and the
more I compared the two faces in my
mind, the more I saw the resemblance.—
Either these cheeks were painted white yes
terday. The eyes were the same—the
counter the same and that brow, with its
tell-tale mark, not to be mistaken.
“What’s the matter V asked Stickney.
“I feel chilly,” I replied. “ I’m afraid
I’ve caught more cold.”
“ Never mind. Here we are; a dose ol
something warm will help you.”
As Stickney spoke, we stMped at the
doo.r Of the inn at Orton. Irodriver an
nounced that they would stop there fifteen
or twenty minutes, ito exchange horses and
wait for the maul, and also informed the
passengers that they would find plenty of
accomodation at the house, if they choose
to g:j in.
“ Will you . step in, ma’mt” he added to
my beauty.
She said she would; and be helped her
out and conducted her out to a private sit
ting room. i| v
“Stickney,” skid I, “I’m.going to find
out who that woman is.”
‘“Nonsense! ” Said he.
“ 1 think I’ve got the scent. t
“Eh?” ,
“ I rode with her yesterday.” j;
“With her?”v
“It was a hui then!”
“She— ”■
Don’t waste time in talking, do you
stand here by th"e door, and pop in the mo
ment you hear anything to warrant St.”
“ I left my deputy in a state of wonder
ment, and entered the room. ’ The beauty
was sitting by a window, gazing out be
tween the blinds.; She started up as 1 en
tered, and let her veil foil.
“I thought this was a private room sir,”
she said. Her voice trembled- and sounded
unnatural.
■ “It maybe,” {continued, “but that does
not exclude those who have business.' 1
came on purposeto see you,”;
There was a momentary sfrtqrgle, and
then she appeared as calm as could be.
“Wl>atare yon? she asked.:
“I am an officer of Bow street,” I re-?
plied.
“And what do you want with me?”
“ I want to know who you are.”
“ Stop—one moment,” she! said; and as.
she spoke she carried her hand beneath
her cloak. It was quietly ; withdrawn,
and in it was a pistol, but she had caught
a portion of her dress with it and before
she could clear it, I had sprang upon her
and siezed her by the anus.. ' But it was
a hek no longer.; There was more muscle
in that slight body than I had bargained
for. However, my man, “popped in” the
moment he heard the scuffle, and the beau
ty was soon secured. The glossy brown
tresses fell off during the scuffle, and some
of the paint was removed froni the cheeky.
As soon as the prisoner was secured •!
had his trunk taken off and brought in
and upon overhauling its contents we
found disguises of all sorts, and quite a sum
of money, besides watches and jewerly of
much value. I made him assume a prop
er male attire, and when he stood forth in
propria persona, 1 found that he had not
only used red paint for the blushing beauty
of to-day, but that he had applied a more
cadaverous coloring matter '.for the con
sumptive individual of yesterday. As he
stood now, a lithe built, intelligent looking
youth, of not more than five-ajnd-twenty;
but with a cold-blooded expression upon
his marble face, ; and an evil; look in his
dark eyes. i
We carried him back to iLowstone,
where we foumd the money of t|te old far
mer upon him, besides other money which
had been lost by; different individuals. At
first he told strange stories of himself, but
finally, when be: knew that the worst must
eome, he confessed the whole.! He was
from London, ami had come into jhe country
on purpose to rob. He had two confed
erates with hiin, who had helped him
from place to place. One of them had
taken him away from the. inn bn the night
before, and the;other had brought him
and set him at the farmer’s gate that morn
ing. We made search for these confeder
ates, but they had got wind of their prin
cipal’s arrest, and were not fo be found.
However, we had got the chief sinner,
and broken up the game. After he had
been found guilty, and sentenced, he seem
ed to enjoy himselt hugely in telling how
hie had deceived the good people of our
country. Now he would font himself
again into the Old woman who had given
the driver so much trouble about her band
box. Then he: would be again the meek
browed minister, who had; distributed
tracts among the passengers, .and picked
their pockets While they read.. Then he
would draw himself up into the.little hump
back old man, who bad been lifted into and
oiut of the coach, and robbed his helpers,
while they futed his crutches for him. —
It was funny—-very funny—and perhaps
We might never have caught hiih hut for the
accident of the faggot. This ' was not so
funny for him;; and I doubt if ihe found
much fun in working at our hard stone—
bjammering, hammering —early and late—
with an inexorable master over him to
spur him up when he lagged.:
taT Ob, many the man you love, girls,
if you canget him at all, if he is as rich as
Croesus or poor as Job in his fall. Pray
do not marry for pelf; ’twill bring your
soul into a thrall; but marry the man you
love, girls, if his purse is ever so small.—•
Oh, never marty a fop, girls, whether he’s
little or tall; he’ll make a fool of fainself
and you; he knows nothing well but to
drawl. But marry a sober man, girls;
there are a few left on this ball j and you’ll
never rue the day, girls, that you ever
married at all. i
' tar Some one blamed Mr. March for
changing his mind. “Well,” said he,
“that is the difference between a jackass
and a man; the jackass can’t - change his
mind and a mdn can—its a human privi
lege.” I •. ' , ,;f
i Losses drive goock people to their
prayers, had ohes to their cones.
EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS,
A Soldikb’s Story.—Not long since a
lot of 08—1 P., ‘‘high private,”
now—were quartered in several wooden
tenements, and in an inner room of one lay
the corpus of a young secesh officer, await
ing burial. The news soon spread to a
village not far oft; and down came tearing
a sentimental, not bad-looking specimen of
a Virginia dame.
“Let me kiss him fur his mother!” she
cried, as I interrupted her progress. “Do
let me kiss him for his mother!”
“Kiss whom?”
“The dear little lieutenant, the one who
lies dead within. 1 never saw him but oh!”
I led her through aroom in which Lieu
tenant of Philadelphia lay stretched
out on an upturned trough, fast asleep.
Supposing him to be the article sought for,
she pushed up exclaiming, “Let me kiss
him for his mother,” and approached her
lips to his forehead. What was her
amazement when the “ corps” clasped his
arms around her and exclaimed “Never
mind the old lady, Miss, go it on your own
account. I haven’t the slightest objec
tion.”
Family Courtesy. —Family intimacy
should never make brothers and sisters for
get to be polite and sympathizing to each
other. Those who contract thoughtless and
rude habits towards the members of their
own family, will be rude and thoughtless
to all the world. But let the family in
tercourse be true, tender, and affectionate,
and the manners of all uniformly gentle
and considerate, and the number of the
family thus trained will carry into the
world and society the habits of their child
hood. They will require in their associ
ates similar qualities; they will not be
satisfied without mutual esteem, and
the cultivation of the best affections, and
their own character will be sustained by
that faith in goodness which belongs to a
mind exercised in pure and high thoughts.
Silvio's Pelico's “ Duties of Men.”
O* Surgeon —What’s the matter with
you ?
Would be Exempt —Weak back, sir—
very weak back.
S. —Weak knees, you meant
W—Yes, sir, weak knees—very weak
knees, can’t march.
S-—Yes, I’ll give you a certificate—
writes:
‘Upon honor 1 certify that the bearer,
, is weak in the knees, a great cow
ard. who shrinks from defending his coun
try. Hope he will be put in the front
ranks where he can’t run away.
Surgeon,’ &c.
W.—(Handing the surgeon a quarter,)
thank you sir. 1 knew J was entitled to a
certificate. This rebellion, so wicked and
monstrous, must be put down. It has
done my heart good to see the energy of
the President in ordering a draft.
[He reads the certificate and faints. 1—
Hartford Times.
Dkwdkops of Wisdom. —Wordly hap
piness—a glittering false diambnd, placed
upon the top of a smooth greased pole
which all try to climb and secure.
They, who disbelieve in virtue, because
man has never been found perfect, might
as reasonably deny the sun, because it is
not al ways noon.
Toil and trial are 'grim schoolmasters ;
but a flush of hope can make them beauti
ful even as a sunbeam oh the rude moun
tain forest
You may, judge pretty well as, to a
woman’s secret vices, by observing what
she condemns most fiercely in othratt
Anger your friend, and you will be sur
prised to mid what a villian you are even
in his estimation.
Common sense is very uncommon,
though each man thinks he has enough of
iarOld Rowe kept a hotel where he
used to say one could get anything that
was ever made to eat. One day ip came
a Yankee, who asked old Rowe what he
could give him for dinner.
‘Anything sir,’ said bid Bbwe, ‘any
thing from a pickled elephant to a canary
bird’s tongue.’
‘Wa’U,’ said the Yankee, eyeing Rowe,
‘I guess I’ll take a piece of pickled ele
phant’
‘Well, we’ve got ’em 5 all reafe right
here in the-house, but you’ll bate to
a whple ’un, ’cause we never col ’em.’
The Yankee thought fae’wtKdd take
some codfish and potatoes.
Whebe is Youb Box?—We saw him
last late in the evening in the oompany of
very bad boys, and they each had a cigar.
And now and then some of them uqedvery
profane language. As we looked ait your
son we wondered if you knew where he
was, and with whom he associated. iy» r
friend, do not be so closely confiifed to
your shop, office or ledger, as to neglect
that boy. He will bring sorrow intoypur
household, if you do not bring proper pa
rental restraint to bear upofit'him- nid
that very soon. Sabbath andpublic school
teaching can _ help you, but you insist do
most. -
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V-v;.,.,
o£ys.
NO. 33.