The Altoona tribune. (Altoona, Pa.) 1856-19??, November 15, 1862, Image 1

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the ALTOONA tribune.
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„ on , M.yabi»iu»»ri»bly iu »<lt»uc«,) 41,60.
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TS WUr-ed .celling to the above rate.
'r iimen - not marked with the number of in.er-
till forbid and chargedac
',’r,i"’,«nm*icOT Are cent, per line for every insertion.
S'X. exceeding ten linen. Ally cent»a.qna e
, llS B«Swt l-M
Baltimore lock hospital
' "rniKD AS A RBFCGK FROM QCACKKRT
fhe Only Place Where a Cure Can
be Obtained.
lut JOHNSON has discovered the
I Certain, Speedy and only Effectual Remedy in
Jill for all Private Diseases. H eaknesa of **■* B»c>t
Strictures, Affections of the Kidneys and BUd
■ smluatarv DUcliargos, liupotency Ocneral Debilily.
Dvspepsy, Languor, how Spirits Confusion
Vi S’palpiition of the Heart, Timidity,Trembling.,,
;,V of Sight or Giddiness. 'Disease of the Heed.
v .'i Vest or Skin, Affections of the Liver, pongs, Stom
■ ''r Bi«elo—those Terrible disorder* arising from the
‘■Vxft lUbits of Youth—those secket and solitary prac
": u ’ . (aul to theii victims than the song of Syrens to
’.’‘'Mariners of Ulysses, blighting their most brilliant
. .. ~i anticipations, rendering marriage ,4c . impossi-
YOUNG MEN
v. t Ilv who have become the victims of Solitary * ice,
ami destuctivo habit Which annual.* sleeps
• in natiiuelr gi ave thousand* of Young Men of the most
r ,j'oi uients and brilliant intellect, who might other
-1 have entranced listening Senates with t'*e thunders
~;.,(joencet or waked to ectavy the living lyre, nmy call
,na full confidence
MARRIAGE
'Urne<i Person*, or Young Men cotemplating marriage,
yir.i; *WHfe of physical weakuess. organic debility
3i*>\ ic.. speedily cured. '
i{ c w |, b places him-vl! under the care of Dr. J. may tv*
yi.u-U'cvuti'ie in hi* honor a * a gentleman. and confi-
Mitlr r»*lv upon hi* skill as a physician.
‘ ORGANIC WEAKNESS
itr.uwdi*l*lr Cured, and full V isror Restored.
Tlii* Diitreesing Affection—which rendera Life miserable
■.ai marriage impossible—is the penalty paid by the
improper indulgences. Young persons are to
, pl t 0 commit exces e- from hoi being awaie nf the dread
ya-.miequeuces that may en*ue. Now. who that under
t.aU the subject will pretend to deny that the power of
■•ncffitiuß Is lost sooner by t!»o«c falling into improper
iM* than by the prudent? Besides being deprived the
;I«iorea of healthy offspring, the most serious and de.-
t^nive:svmptom‘s to both body and mind arise. The
usiem becomes Derang'd, the Physical and Mental Func
:.'D* Weakened. Los- jf Procreative Power, Nervous Irri
aiility. Dyspepsia, Palpitation of the Heart, Indigestion
Coa*iituti«mal Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough,
.vimuoption. Decay and Death.
omce. NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET,
L<f hand side going from Baltimore street, a few doors
So the-c»roer. Fail not to observe name and number
Letters must be paid and contain a stamp. The Doc
;i i Diplomas hang in his office
* CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS.
JVb ilrrcnry or Ntutons Drugs.
OR. JOHNSON, ,
the Hoya! College of Surgeons, _Grad
\Ck from oue of the most eiuinent Colleges in the United
iutrt, and the greater part of whose life has been spent in
I? hospitals of London, Paris, Philadelphia and else
*hrre, has effected some of the most astonishing cores
;haf vert ever known; many troubled with ringing in the
:**! .tni! e ira when 'asleep, great nervousness, being
vtratd at sudden sounds, basbfulcess, with frequent
V.whiojc, attended sometimes 'with derangement of mind,
<-r» cored immediately.
TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE
fr.J. addresses all those who have iujured themselves
••j improper indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin
xtb My and mind, unfitting them for either business,
•••aly. society or marriage.
Isisr ire some of the tad and melancholy effects pro
-">4 by early habits of youth, viz: Weakness'of the
Sack and Lhabs, Pains in the Head, Dlmress of Sight,
- of Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart. Dys-
P*l« V > Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Diges
'■* functions, General Debility, Symptoms of Consump
■»s .ic.
MjXTAiu.-»The fearful effects of the mind are much to
•< ir-a-letl-iL »ss of Memory, Confusion of Ideas, De
' ‘Tikin of spirits. Evil-Forebodings, Aversion to Society.
vSf-Dbtnwt. Love of Solitude, Timidity. Ac., are some of
'StocHvDS of persons of all ages can now Judge what is
-'•tuse of their declining health, losing their vigor, bo
‘••miag weak, pale, nervous and emaciated, having a sin-
appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of
„ YOUNG MEN
have injured themselves by a certain practice in
•3‘jed in when alone, a habit frequently learned from
iT ii or at school, the effects of which are
%Wy felt, even when asleep, and if not cured readers
**rmg B iraposlble, and destroys l>oth mind and body,
• 'aid apply immediately. W
s pity that a young man, the hope uf bis country,
:fi - darling of hi* parents, should be snatched from all
■•rt*p«cts and enjoyments of life, by the consequence of
Stating from the path of nature, and indulging in a
-*ruio secret habit. Such persons MUST, before content
r‘itiUC
e . MARRIAGE,
••fleet that a sound mind and body are the most necessary
to promote connubial happiness. Irdeed, with
'-v these. the journey through life becomes y weary pit
■:iajnge; the prospect hourly darkens to the view; the
becomes shallowed with despair and filled with the
-“Unchoty reflection that the happiness ol another be-
blighted with our own.
_ DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE.
"hen the misguided and imprudent votary of pleasure
r <Mithsthe has imbibed the seeds of this painfal die
*»*►. it too often happens that an 111-timed sense of shame,
r of discovery, deters him from applying to those
from education and respectability, Can alone be
him. delaying till the constitutional symptoms of
horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcera
* > tliroat, diseased nose, nocturnal.paj|h sio the head
limbi, dimness of sight, deafness, males on .U*e shin
blotches on tlio b«*d. fcicb andextremi
progressing with frightful nipidltyvlill at last the
of the, month or the bones of the nose fall In, and
°f this awful disease becomes a horrid object of
ration, till death puts; a period to his dreadful
'-"cringe by sending him t»*‘that Undiscovered Country
whene? no traveller returns,”
w \ rvlancholy fact that thousands Tall victims to
; ai< disease, owing to the unskillfuluess of iguo
*Dt pretenders, who, by the use of that Deadly /bison,
rain the constitution-and " make the residue of.
••‘•■«n«rsble.
STRANGERS t .
r- i' 1 aoi year lire*, or health to the cere of the many
and Worthless Pretenders, destitute of know!'
or character, wh> copy Dr.-Johnston’* ndter
l or stylo themselves, in the newspapers, regu*
f - r Physicixn*. incapable of Curing, they keep
: i tri9iQ l? month after month, taking their filthy and
, componmls, or as long ** the smallest fee caa
and In despair, leave you'wlth ruined health
Drj k* r onr Piling disappointment.
llij i® the only Physician advertising.
t». Cr^eT »tial or diplomas always hang in Ms office,
or treatment are unknown to a!! others,
■ r,m * spent In the great hospitals of Knrope,
■h nJ. coantr J' and a more extensive Private Prac
-040 any other Physician in the world.'
XK.J ND ORS£MENr OF THE PRESS. ‘
ter a.nd W, /u t k° a "* B< ** cared at this institution, year after
. ft . nmflr,w Important Surgical operations
’ $ha ’» t. witnesses! by tho reporters of the
•bich i PPct,” and many otVr papers, notices of
a Pf > * aml *f*in and. again before the public,
nondhnu landing as a gentlemen of character and re
>*lty, is a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted.
S«i|5J!J °<«ASES SPEEDILY CORED.
R*' ™l unleM pmt-p.ii’ and containing a
H'tfctto*l^S nth s r^ pIT F»r»on« writing .honUaute
p *rioM^ ajlMctUement dMcribing .ytnptom.
o ‘' ,r
/br the Altoona Tribune.
TO A FR3EMDDECEABEO.
1 year.
% fi 00
7 00
10 00
12 00
14 00
20 00
40 00
1 76
* 3 00
' 4 00
6 00
8 00
10 00
14 QO
26 00
And when thepaierayv
Of the moon gently fling
, i'heir soft mellow light o'er his i»ed
. Then seek liis repose
And mournfully sing. :
A requiem o’er the lone dead.
Ballvilui 0., Nov. 2nd, 1*62.
From the Evening Chronicle.
LINES.
Suggested by the Departure of aSister of Mercy fur Vie
Seat of War.
Oo forth, in God’s name where the war’s din ia joudest.
To Corinth, where Dows the heart’s blood of ouT proudest;
Take your place near the wounded who tell ou that plain
And shrink not, though round you in heaps lie the slain:
liaise the young soldier's head fn>m the damp, ry earth
Ue was cared fur and loved ip the land uf his bii th;
fond mother is near hint, oh! watch his lost* breath,
Aud wipe from his pale brow the chill dews of death.
Stoop down o’er th« veteran, he is writhing with pain.
His aged cheek Ia soiled with the tattle’* dark fepiiD;
Moisten his parched lips, which murnfur iu vain
With low. quivering accents some well beloved name.
Go, ministering angel, where bravo hearts have broken ;
Shed the soft tear of pity o’er anguish.unspoken.
Fix the warrior's gaze, tho’ ’tis filmed aud dim,
<jn the guerdon your blest lips shall teach him to win.
You will speak Pot of earth, its annals ho guryj
But of Imre Is immortal In realms of glory.
It is meet gentle hands, should the-topi limbs bind,
<?f those who have nobly left friends far belling;
’Xis just the worn spirit of the hero should be
Kindly soothed in his passage'to eternity.
Go, Virgin of heaven, yourtask is before yon, :
We miss you, but yet will not idly deplore you;
Fervent voices from many a desolate hearth
Will rise for your safety, thou of Earth.
Mtmt |||isfrilaag.
Edward corporal in one of the
New York Regiments, has written a letter
to Harper's Weekly , which gives as fair an
idea of a soldier’s personal experience as
anything we remember to have read. His
regiment enlisted for ; two years, but at
first the Government would only accept it
for three months’ service. Afterwards it
was unexectedly mustered in for the orig
inal term. Having adverted to the hard
ships which resulted (hrough incompotency
of officers, and lack uf means oh the part
of the Government to provide for the men,
Hinmari says:
But it was pretty tough when our three
months were nearly up—and never
had a fight, and it seemed as if; we never
should—to be claimed for the rest of two
i years, and taken for it without our con
isent. We wertr"volunteers before ; now
jwe were pressed. We offered two years
sat first; the Government would only take
three months. If' a new bargain was to
i be made we thought we had a right, the
I same as at first, to volunteer ibstead of
I being forced. This made us a good deal
of trouble; but 1 thought that the Gov
ernment wouhl not take us if they did not
need us ; and I made up my mind if this
great nation needed a poor man like me
| jit could have me in its own way. And,
; besides, we had learned just what we
■ ought to know to be good for something,
and had got toughened to it. For one, I
felt rather proud that we were considered
good enough to be kept. And U It bad
iinot been for Sally and Johnny, who got
nothing from the neighbors and had a
hard lode for, the winter coming on, I
Chcitt
BT MoUJLE.
Forget Uieel no, never!!
Th* effort ie vain.
Thy mera’ry engrosses my thought;
Though streams cswu*- to flow
Aud the heavens to rain,
To me thou'shall ne’er I* fore6t. w/
How sad is tax heart
W hen I think o’er'the juut.
Of the hopes and the joys which were mine;
Of the time when I gazed -
On thy form for the last, i *
And partook of thy untile** bright sunshine.
I feel very louoly w
And sink in despair.
As I sit by my taper amlwrlt*-;
But iny heart seems to say.
And e’en to declaim,
That thy presence could cheer me to-night.
1 join with the marry.
And friends kindly greet.
But ah there’s no pleasure for tne;
' For sorrow has blasted •'
.My visions so sweet.
And memory Ungers with thee..
Yet memory causes
.Sensations of pain,
And tears from these eyelids id start;
For sadly ic whisper*.
We’ll ne’er meet again.
Oh never re-echoes my heart.
For even this, earth
Shall know thee uv-more:
Thine eyes badeadieuto it* woe;
Thy days are alt spent,
Xny pilgrimage o’er;
Thy wanderings have ceased here below
And tar from the home
Of thy childhood and frlecde,
Tiie stranger hath la>n then to redt;
Tile wide-spreading: oak
In solitude bends.
And waves o’er thy slumbering breast
Tread lightly, (J stranger,
0 Around his lone tomb:
Disturb not his silent repose;
Bat plant ye choice flower'-
Upoo it to blossom—
Tlu- amaranth cypre** and ro*e.
A CORPORAL’S STORY.
ALTOONA, PA., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1862
should not have cared to be-anywhere else.
Some of our young lellows asked me how
I liked being pressed from my wife and
boy. Well, I said, I should be” glad to go
home and see them ; but if it was to sneak
out and have somebody else fight for my
wife and boy while ll staid at home, I
should be ashamed to have my John call
me father at that.
After a while we all got over grumb
ling, and began to take pride in standing
hardships and keeping ourselves as com
fortable and clean as possible, no matter
how had the Weather and how hard the
service.
One day last December, after a long
march in the snow, which slipped, and
slushed and melted on our slices, and then
froze the shoes still’, we got in late at night
and slept, in a big barn in the hay with
out supper, or breakfast next morning, for
the roads were so bad the wagons could
not get up. Well, that morning our
Brigadier-General rode down 'to see us
We heal’d he was. coining, and every man
had his musket bright, and his clothes
brushed up, the snow had cleaned our
shoes, and our cotton “ dirtteovers,” as
the boys called their gloves, were very
comfortable in holding a musket on a
frosty morning. So we were paraded in
linei as for dress parade, and when we
presented arms to the General it went like
the tie'k of a clock, for we were vexed, and
we would have,done it tine that morning
if we had died. '* Ah, hah, my fine fel
lows," the General said, somebody has
been lying about-you. They said you had
no supper or breakfast, and that your feet
were frozen off you, and that you slept in
a barn last night.” We heal'd how he
bragged about us afterward, and said that
there was not a hay seed on our coats or a
ration in the bellies of'the whole regiment.
The next day we went into Clear Spring,
in Maryland, and that is a [dace tor l n
ion soldiers I must say. The people gave
us the whole town, and all they had was
welcome. It is only a village town but,
as one of the girls said to Pat Mahoney,
that though there was not a big heap,
there was right smart folks there. Here
we had a good rest, plenty to eat and a
hearty welcome.
. The first time we had a scrimmage, with I
the secesh was not a long time after this, i
We forded the Potomac and marched to- |
wards Martinsburg. Cold and wet was i
nothing now. and hunger was not to be |
talked of. We were at last going to tight j
Jackson and Co. We thought our first
fight was beautiful. The secesh all ran
away as soon as we began firing. They
were Virginia Militia. Some of our offi
cers wrote home flaming accounts about it,
but our Colonel became all at once very
severe on us, and said such nonsense wo iffd j
spoil us. He ordered us and ordered us i
till day and night seemed nothing but or- |
ders, and he was very severe on any disc- i
bedienee. I guessed afterward what he
meant. For the next fight we had I
think I found out that obeying orde-s
meant not running away. 1 was scared
and no mistake. We were inarching in
column of divisions expecting work, when
suddenly a secesh battery opened on us
and one or tw’o' balls came plowing through
the column. We looked at one another
just ready to run, when the Colonel’s voice
came down the line as sharp as a knife:
“ Battalion halt. On third division de
ploy column. Battalion by right and left
flanks, March J" Now as much scared as
we were, I really believe that we would
have all skedaddled if we bad not been
more afraid to disobey orders. I trembled
all over, but our company was in the
third division, and we had to stand fast
while the rest formed on us and the old
habit kept us all there. A cold sweat \
stood all over me, but I had no time to j
think before the other divisions were
double-quicking it through some open
woods into line of battle, when wc were
ordered to' lie down lilf our battery came
up. Pretty soon a Georgia Regiment ad
vanced on us down through a dip in the
ground, halting occasionally and loading
and firing as they came on. The bullets
whistled all around but done no harm.
Our battery on our right drew the fire-of
the secesh battery and we had" an open
chante before us. By forming on third
division we bad just a slight roll of ground
between us and the dip in the meadow in
front, and when ;_we lay down the balls
from the battery vyould ricochet over us, or
go over our heads without striking. A
few men got hit with pieces of shell, but
nearly all we lost by artillery was from
the first firing. The Colonel stood lean
ing agajnst a tree at the right, and on the
crown of the knoll, as cool as a cucumber,
watching the enemy. The surgeon, and
assistant ?[nd. band were, picking up the
wounded men and carrying them to the
rear out of fire. Every now and then the
Colonel would turn and look at us lying
along the ground, and I could see him
from where I was} show his teeth with a
j fierce looking kind of grin as he looked at
i us. The. same as to say, it seemed to me,
■ just wait ’till I order these fellows at you.
’lt seemed a very short time before the or
der came. We fired a, single volley at 100
yards distance and then fixed bayonets,
and down we went at double-quick charge,
every man yelling to suit himself. The
f INDEPENDENT IN EVERYTH ING.J
Georgians stood till we were twenty paces
from them, and then broke and run for u
worm fence, where they tried to rally, but
in climbing the fence we came up with
them, and the rails flew off and we after
them right up on to their battery, which
could not hit us without hitting them.—;
So we took the battery of four brass guns.'
This is all I know about the first battld
of Winchester. After we were ordered
up to fire and charge I did pot sec any
body that looked scared : for my part I did
not think about it then, though, till the
secesh broke, men were every now and then
dropping out of the ranks hit or killed.
Our Brigadier-General came down to
see us next morning, and we were ordered
out to receive him, and he made us anoth
er short speech. Says he: “Boys, we
have been just learning you a little here,
and you have done very well. But lam
going to lake you over into McClellan’s
corps one of these days, and then I shall
expect you to fight in real earnest. But I
see your clothes look as nice as usual this
morning.” We had a bold talking Ser
geant in the color guard, who spoke up
Und said : “ That’s more than yours do,
General,” which made us all grin. For
the skirt of his coat had a hole through it,
and his baggage had been stai ted toward
Manassas the day before the light, and he
had no change, and the hole could only be
mended with a patch ; but I suppose for
as cool as he would talk to us he was rath
er proud of that hole in his coat If he
wasn’t we were. We lay at Winchester
some days lielorc we marched across the
Shenandoah for Manassas, and while lying
there I went into the hospitals where our
hoys and the secesh wounded were being
taken care of. And here I saw somethin"
that made me feel pretty had. One of our
corporals had a bullet through his thigh,
lie was wounded on picket the night be
fore the buttle. He had an Irishman on
his picket-guard who would smoke his
pipe through any tiling and everything.
Well, it was cold and damp this night, so
Pat lighted his pipe and smoked away,
lying down with his shoulders against a
fallen tree, tor it was not his relief, and
as he could not sleep he said he would
take it out in a good smoke. This spark
of fire made a good mark, and pretty soon
a bullet struck the corporal who was
standing some distance from Put. “ Bless
the pipe, thiij,” says pat, “for if you had
been smoking it, corporal, he would have
tired it at you and hit me.” The guard
fired back by chance, and afterward ap
proached cautiously toward the place from
which the shot had been fired. They
heard groans which guided them, and Soon
came to a badly wounded man, in a far
mer’s dress, with a large bore rifle lying
by his side. They stopped the bleeding
as well as they could, and turned out Put’s
relief to cany him and the corporal to the
nearest house in our lines. This turned
out to be the farmer's own house. But it
was deserted of everybody except an old
darkey and a little girl about nine years
old. It turned out that they had been
sent to the house by the girl’s mother,
thinking nobody would disturb them, to
get some clothes, left behind when they
fan away from their home, which they
did on hearing that Jackson was coming
back to drive us out of Winchester. They
went into the mountains, for the father
was suspected of Unionism. The father
had started from his hiding-place for
news, when he was impressed by the sa
cesli and made to serve as guide for placing
the pickets as he knew the neighborhood.
He Said that he had his rifle to protect
himself, and I believed him. But when
they saw Pat’s pipe, knowing him to be a
good shot, they compelled him to fire at
i the light, he purposely aimed on one side
j and hit the corporal.
Our return tire drove away their picket,
but wounded him in the chest, and he
died in a few days. The darkey went
back to the mountains but the little girl
would not leave her father, and was car
ried to the hospital along with the corpo
ral. She staid with him, giving him water,
bathing his head, and saying, “ Poor
Daddy! poor daddy!” all the while till he
died. Pat got a pass to go and see the
poor man buried, and the next roll call he
was among the missing, and nobody saw
anything of Pat for the next tour days,
when be came into camp and reported to
the Colonel, and pulled out his pass as in
nocent as a baby. Upon being questioned
about such an absurd pretence ns the pass
being good for four days, Pat said he had
to go home with the mourner from the
funeral. And the fact was, the fellow
had taken the little girl home to her
mother in the mountains.
I do not know if you will think what 1
say of any interest worth publishing.—
But I thought a plain soldier's account of
what did happen really in this war might
encourage some others to enlist just now
when we want them; for we have got
thinned out somewhat from what we were'
at first, and if our people will come into
■our old regiments with names already on
their flags, or get up new ones that will
do better thanive tou'e, why then it seems
to me we can kill out rebellion before it
gets old enough to go'alone. And if they
don’t come and join ns now, why a great
many more will have to come by-aod-by.
THE LOST KEY.
BY AMY RANDOLPH
“ I say Philip, have you seen my .port
monnnie ?”
Mr. Walter’s brow contracted slightly
at the words, and he drew away; the
hand which had been caressing his. wife’s
pretty hair
“ Is that portmonnaie lost again 1”
“ Now, Philip.” said the little woman,
with a world of pretty penitence in the
lightened word, “don’t scold. Upon: hay
word it is the first time I’ve mislaid it
this whole morning.”
“It is too provoking, Cora,” said the
iron hearted husband, pushing back; the
books on the table, before him with a
movement denoting intense irritation.;
“ Will you never break yourself off hat
carelesrhabit, my love'?”
Cora was silent, looking down like a
naughty child who had been chidden.
“You don’t know what annoyance
those careless habits arc to a methodical
man like myself, dear,” he: added. In a
gender tone, as the coral lips began to
tremble and the eyes to suffuse. 4 ‘ Do try
to be more thoughtful, for my sake. Here
is your lost treasure,” he said, quietly
drawing a tiny case of pearl and gold
from his pocket. “I found i I lying on
the stairs, and thought it a most excellent
opportunity for giving my little
wife a lesson.”
Cora clapped her little hands at the
sight of the restored treasure, and danced
out of the room in a girlish glee.
” A perfect child,” murmured the hus
band, looking after her with a smile -and
a sigh blending unconsciously into :one
another.
Well if I don’t make haste, I shall be
too late to meet that engagement on Cedar
street. Let me see. the notes-are in my
secretary. 1 believe. Nothing like lock
ing things up and keeping the keys yourself.
It. Cora only followed my example —”
Mr. Walter paused abruptly, seeking in
all his pockets, with nervous haste," for
something that sggmed not to be forth
coming. . •
l; Very strange,” muttered he, biting
his lips". “ 1 always put it in that Vest
pocket. Possibly, I may have laid it on
the table among those papers.
The aforesaid papers rustled hither and
thither like animated snowflakes as Mr.
Walter hurriedly sought among their con
fused masses, but it was all in vain.
“ I can’t have lost it,” he exclaimed,
in dire perplexity. “ And every one of
those notes is locked "up in the secretary,
with no earthly chance of ever getting at
it. But I am certain the key can’t be
lost—l never lose any thing! It won’t
do to wait many more minutes. I’ll just
put on a clean shirt, and r run down town.
Hang that key!”
Mr. Walter hastened to his room to
complete the details of his toilet ere he left
the house, but his trials were not yet des
tined to terminate. He was a methodical
man, therefore his bureau was carefully
locked ; he always kept things in one place,
there foie the keys were snugly reposing in
one corner of the inaccessible secretary.
He rushed frantically back to the library,
hoping that the key might be on the man
telpiece, where he had not iyet searched
No, it was not there, but a treacherous
inkstand was —the wherof, 1 . by
one unlucky sweep of the elbow, descended
in an ebon cataract over his shirt bosom
—the shirt bosom upon which alone he
had depended.
“Well here is catastrophe!” he mur
mered gloomily, staunching the inky
flow with his pocket handkerchief.” —
“ However, I can button my coat over it
for the present. Let' me see —there is
that money I promised to pay Smith to
day, and'—”
He stuped short, a cold dew of dismay
breaking out on his forehead—the money
drawer was a fixture of Ac wretched Sec
retary !
Penniless, shiftless and paperless, what
more desperate state of affairs could his
worst enemy desire for him? 'There was a
lower deep yet, however. Would he not
be characterless, likewise, if his wife should,
hy any inopportune chance, discover that
he, the model of rule and order, had lost
his key 1 So thought Mr. Walter as he
strode off down town to a day of perplex
ities and mortification.
•* If ever I tease Cora again about losing I
things,” he muttered ■ inwardly, as; he
entered the tea room on returning home,
“I hope to ba drowned with a hundred
weight of keys about my peck! It is a
judgment sent upon me!” '
He unbuttoned bis coat as bespoke, for
getful of the ink stains ofj the morning.
Cora uttered a faint scream* and shrank
back, exclaiming—, |
“My dear Philip, what is, the matter
with yoijr shirt bosom 1” i
“ The. matter 1 Oh!” saijl be, coloring
and laughing. “I remember now—l
spilt a Kttle ink oven it tins: morning. It
don’t signify much.”
“Do lot me get you another, dear.”
“No, no,”said he. eagerly detaining
her “ it; is not at all worth while* Do
sit doejrt and be eatgr, my itpforf"'. ; '
Cora started to carry her baby up tp.the
nursery.;: just as she reached the door,
EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS^
something jipgled in th® . pocket of her
little silk apron. She stopped in the
passage.
“ Oh! by the way, Philip, here is the
key to your secretary. I found it on the
dining table, this afternoon, and,” she
added, with an arch sparkle of the eye, “l
thought if Would be an excellent opportu
nity for giving my husband a lesson!”.
She put the key in his hand, and ran
put of the room, its he recoiled involun
tarily from the sound of his own pedantic
words As he contemplated the gleaming
words of the little mischief maker in
mingled delight and mprtiScation, the echo
of Cora’s merry laughter on the stain
reached his ears like a chime of silver Mis
He laughed, too—he couldn't help it!
Mrs. Cora Walter was a discreet female.
She never , alluded to the subject of keys
again, and her husband was never after
known to reproach her for carelessness.
FEARFUL RAHWAY AD VESTURE.
Iu England, railway passenger cars
are called carriages, and are built on' the
plan of old stage coaches, with entrances
on each side. Some years hence thick
headed Mr. Hull will probably invent a
car similar to Yankee ones, bnt he will
never be guilty of taking li. pattern from
American outside barbarians. For fear
some passenger will get in without paying,
the railway carriages of England are- all
locked. A passenger shows his ticket,
which is then checked, or stamped, and
then, the carriage door is unlocked; he gets
in, is lucked in, and thus perforins his
journey. Free and enlightened young
America would not thus suffer himself
to be locked up--—hut he. But to our
stoiy. A gentleman who was thus locked
in, no other passenger being in that par
ticular carriage, started on his journey
from London to Nottingham on the even
ing of September 5 th. He soon fell asleep,
and slept, he did not know how long. We
will let him tell tbe rest of the story, as
he printed it in the Loudon Dispatch of
the 18th of September. “ When I awoke
it was dark, pitch dark. The light in the
roof of the carriage had gone out. But
where were we, and why. is it so dark?
Above all, why w’ere we not moving!
I soon lit a match, but I could see
nothing outside but blackness. I shouted,
but there was no one to answer, while
the sound of my own voice told -me where
I was. I soon knew all about it by that
time, though I tried to fight off the convic
tion. I had got into the last caniageinthe
train, and it had somehow become un
hitched from its fellows and was left in
the tunnel. I knew the tunnel and its
length, but where abouts in its hideous
blackness was 1? Should 1 get .out? I
tried the doors, but they were lacked.—
Stretching out my hand, I tried to feel for
the wall of the tunnel, shuddering as I
thought it would meet me clammy and
stone-cold, like the stands of a corpse.—
But I could not reach it. Was it the
other side? ] passed over to try. Hush?
What was that? I drew back my arm
instinctively, and sunk down a helpless
mass on my seat again. Do you know
what it was, reader, that I heard then?
It was the snort of a distant engine.—
Everywhere before me I saw the gaze of
two ferocious eyes, like the eyes of a wild
beast in his den, and I knew that every
snort was bringing the monster steadily
closer. Nearer still. Another minute
less—and where should Ibe 1 Mutilated
fragments of a human body once my own,
whirling away in all directions, rose up
to answer that question as it phased
through my mind. Nearer still. It takes
but a second, say the wise and learned, to
Lring before a man his whole life; but in
that strange moment, instinct as it was,
with a horrible and fascinated excitement
I saw only the ferocious eyes, and heard
the voice of my young brother, dead long
years ago, calling upon me to come and
save him, as he was wont to do in his de
lirium. Nearer still—and the'carlh quiv
ered beneath nic, and thunder filled my
ears. There was a whirling rush, a quick
wind, and then the roar going off into
the distance again. When Leonid think
of myself, I found that 1 was sitting doubled
up, shrinking as a man wunld from a
.threatened blow, and my hands were
clenched till I felt the smart of the hails
in my flesh. The train had chanced to be
on tl}6 other line of rails, or I had not
been sitting here now to write my ad
venture. An engine was dispatched to
bring up the missing carriage, as soon as
the fact of.rits having been left behind
was discovered, and thus your correspon
dent was rescued from his dreadful and
frightful situation.
O'A one-legged orator, named Jones,
was pretty'successful in banteringan Iriifc?
man, when the latter asked hitii: M 'Hdir ' :
did you tome to loso your leg ?” « Wefl, w
said Jones, “on examining my pcdigfee
and locking upon my descent, ! fouiid
there was, some Irish Wood in me, and
becoming convinced it was settled inth&t
left leg, I had it cut off at once."
the powers,” said ’Pat, uff av
good thing if it had only, settled inTonr
head.” ■ . : f
•I-
£
f , i-* •
j-r> , .1
NO. 41.