! -SUTTER'S FJ^JECAPITO!, pS%lW|** ; fforrubtirg > f> n is chieflv devot* i fawT., orrtalif, ruled and bond lo * J, J ,,r r» daoftboW linen p,,*,. “ vrd “f Coou, *.and other*. deairlu*ioUa»»tb«rr.> . UrjMt an**. U»rpert Weeki. Jl, s '«i Wicnt,; Scientific Aon-Hceo. tit. Gl **»o’i mm t* Mhtiii w^r^J^se*.' lUmekwoort'e tiff n'M 0 " 11 ’’ &p*’»Xndy*. Borf^tn^iUwS Gr » h ««.’i pt and knbatantial half blndlu,®!£ 1 * t,IM 01 Ma*at<»>VKamoU.t *’•«.. M^USMidtnto.jprtßM. U. &*••»*»lnd, will raceWe iUh?nu£!° g • WSy U neat to a from . j : H( £) h ?<.2 = Hi m § is -r EM —i Ui Z* ? t lift 2* « £< cIS Hr QgL«» » E *’jS s 7 -U-sasfjSll -- v oo* x.i tehfc 51 Ir-T r ACOB WEIS, * AND CONFECTIONER, Vncrauenucr. Aurora*, p*:. 1 CONSTANTLY ON HAND KE ®' CANDIES MXAT& of kf« Own manufacture. which h» *»#» tOHflifS IRUlW,such u LEMONS, PIKE-APPLES tJNES, RAISINS, NUTS, &C., &C »d in their reepectieweuwon,. DAKJ&D to* order occrton*. 00 abort notice and lb the lyte of the art. w and price toy .took and you will a o d 'Cucap a» coo be puttbued elsewhere. NFECTIONERY OYSTER SALOON. SUBSCRIBER WOULD I\ Altoon * »»<• Twinlty that Lie SERY.NXT and FItDIT STORK. I. alwava the eery Lest article* to be had. and In rr™ naaaltoao STER saloon k store, in whicb he wltlserve op OYSTERS •during the season. iBEAD * PJXS always on hand. prepared to supply eakes. candies. 4r.. .other parties. He invites a share of public t v *ng that he can render foil satisfaction to ttv-itoreand saloon is onTirgjniasttec.iwu Ucm’ftUaU. ' OTTO BOSS). .35,1.861~tf . FETTINGER’S ml News Agency. AL, No. 7, MAIN STREET L BOOKS, BLANK BOOKS, MSKY, CONFJSCTIONAHIKs ARS& TOBACCO. J NOTIONS IN GREATVABIETY WHWTANTLY on oakd. XJ-OYP & GO., itTOONi, Pi JACK &CO.. BOLLWi fSBOMO, Pi- INKIES, "StU. Johmton, Sack# Co.”) ;TS ON THIS PRINCIPAL ul ■ SUm- and Ootd igrnb. QaUtctioni MoM»«d on dcpooito, panbl* on dmawi. npon time, with tetaMt at Mr r»t» KKSSLER PKACTICA' vSaaaSW mqocaja ons, tawiiwi: Mr* **>» toWHa, ud a fcdi»tonl*r“ 1 ' i- *s«rit: Brtoe had quilt?, -M ho *** t(1 Or FJUENBg WOULD DO 10 L4RO m OAM & AT AlcGaJMtfit’K’a S»» L A LA3JGK AxNT AT, 'XOOTH, SHAVLN’G. ••MiTwnMi yoi-g. m o* pauwtso „ *S*M AND ■lih • im cakpbting an l ' mtws*jp rnm^t- fjpmi'm^ggjfrSh gimsg& $P A^~D&& lilF ' McCKUM & DERN, VOL- 8 the ALTOONA TRIBUNE. .. p VcCRUit. B. C. DEKK} EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. , aßno invarUhly in •advance,)...... $1 60 U 1 paper* discontinued at the expiratiop of the lime ,ii>i lor. 1 insertion 2 do. 3 do. r ll 0 e«or le*s $ 25 $ $ 60 Square, (5 liuc») - 50 75 - 100 f aq •• nc *• ) ioo ifio , 200 Pi. ■■ (24 “I - 160 200 260 1 mt>r three weeks and lees than three month*, $6 cent* -, r wiure for «ch inwrtion. ' ' 3 month*. 0 month.. . 1 year. •S 1 60 $ 3 00 $6OO ; 2 60 4 00 7 00 . 400 800 10 00 5 00 8 00 12 00 * , .. 600 10 00 14 00 'h'l , column lo 00 14 00 20 00 1 „1 0 ... n 14 OO 23 00 •40 00 i.iaiinWrulor. and Knfutur. Notice. t 1 75 I rli.nt* advcrtiriUK by the yarr, lb no .qi'urwi, S liberty to change 10 00 or Business Card*, not exceeding 8 line* . It! i.itprr. per year........;.: 5 00 . oiaummcatioiis or a poiiticac character or individual ru-r*u. will he charged according to the above rate*. t,i* rtisruieuts not marker} with the number qf loser* ~ ( i..Mred. will he continued till forbid and charged m the above tmns. notice* five cent* per line for every insertion. .Uituury iiLttic*. 1 -' exceeding ten line*, fifty cent* aequare. l«ii cotemplating marriage, i«Ar« of physical weakness, organic debility, defur speedilv cared, i win. places himself under th* care of Dr. J. may re ,i,iv coufi is in his honor as a gentleman, and cOnfi '.v -civ Upon bN skill a-* a phyeichnt. ORGANIC WEAKNESS •.e ji uvlv Cured. ami full Vl;jur Restored. ; .ii- es»ing Affection—which renders Life miserable murine impossible—is the penalty paid by the ■u;. ui‘i n;.rop-*r Indulgence*. Young persrns are tu ojiutuii exces *•* from uoi being awaie of the drcad •.Misoiuenew th= t may c»nue. Now. who that Under 1. -he subject will pretend to deny that the flower of i-P*ri»i is lost sooner by tho«e failing into improper ts than hr the prudent'? Besides being deprived the of healthy offspring, the most serious and de prive svmptoms to both body and mind arise. The n ;u becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Func- 3 < Weakened. Los- of Procreative Power. Nervous Irri :tv. Dvxp-pnia, Palpitation of the, Heart. Indigestion* -tilutional Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough, motion. Decay and Death. omz- t NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, Uu i side going from Baltimore street, a few doors i rin, corner. Kail not to'observe name and number, i..si t- must be paid and contain a stamp. The Doc ■■■'- Dmiom.is hang in hi* office A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS. .y* Jfcrcury or Niutons Drugs. OR. JOHNSON, ; . -ui-r of the Uoya! College of Surgeons, Loudon, (irod irum oue of the most eminent Colleges in the United and the greater part of whoseilibMias been spent in hospitals of Lvodon, Paris, Philadelphia aud else • ,-rp. Ims effected some of the most astomshinp eure* u w,*re ever known; many troubled with ringing in the -vi and esm when asleep, great nervousness being ,*rmed at sudden sou ids, basbfnlness, with frequent lining, attended sometimes with derangement of mind. ** r a cur«d immediately. TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE. ’ , ur. J . addresses ail those who iiave injured themselves » improper indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin . ?rh body and mind, unfitting them for either business. »? utly. society of marriage, fnxsx are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro by early [mbit. of youth, viz: We.knew of the 'i.cli end Limb., Pain, in tli« Head, Dimres* of Sight, <. muf Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart. Dys •{i#v. Nervous Irritability, Derangement of thd Dlges • Functions, Genera! Debility, Symptoms of Consump •cn. kc. - • 1 " . MtMULLr.—Th* fearful affects of the mind wo much to - -Iruiled—L «• of Memory, Confoaion of Idoaa, Ce ssion of iplrlte, EvlMfstrebodlnga. Aversion to Society, li-DUtruvt. here of Solitude, Timidity, *c_ are aome of ■> evils produced. . / ’ ' ■ , Ttmiaxus of persona of all ages can now Judge -what ia cease of tliair declining health, ld»t-K their rigor, be ■mln£ week, pale, nerrona and em 'clated. having aeln :;;iar appearance about the cyee, cough and symptoms of •sumption YOUNG MEN AJ t •mio lure injured themselves by * certain practice In l«:g«d ia when alone, a habit frequently Icaiited from •v(» companions. or at school., the of which are ;-litly felt, even when asleep, and If not cured rendetv i.-riagw imposible, ami destroys both mind and body, •': uM apply immediately. „* What a ulty that a young, man. the hope of hi* country.- ij. luwe4 with despair and filled with the j iicUnchidy reflection that lh* happiness ot another he •■■»««< blighted withdnr own. DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE. _; «V.n the misguided and Impmd-ht votary ofpleMure that he h*« Imbibed the espls of this painful dla- St too often happen* that anllMimed *en*e‘of shame. • r 'irniui of discovery, d*ter» him from . from education and respectability, can alone be '[ "ml him. delaying till the constliotiona! synjptoms of " ! ;U b irrid di«eaae make their appearance, sueb -ae nlcera >J s-irs throat, diseased nose, nocturnal pain si* the head Mid limbs. dimness «f light, deafness, node* oil'the »bln -oi-j* aud arms, blotchee on tlie head, face and extreml s>,i, progressing wlth-fright#hl rapidity, till a*.last the of the-month or the bone* of the nose fall In, and > r victim of thl* awful disease becomes a horrid bisect of * "nmeration, till death pat* a period to hlrdreadnil •■’‘.tferinfpi, by .sending him t > ’‘that Undiscovered Country ! m whence no traveller returns.” i, * nutianchala/dct that thousands fall elctlm* to terrible disease, owing to the un*kiUfoineM origno r - preten ler*. who. by the nse’ of that JDtatßjf /bison. r *ry. rain the constitution and make the ifsidue of mi«#rable. STRANGERS Cruras, Worthies* Pretender*, destitateof knowl * i - •. nam* or chirncterv wh * copy Dr Johnston.* ftdvei** «r »tvlo themselves in the newspapers. rega ‘• lncited VhysteUn*. incapable of Curing, they keep trifling month after month, taking theirfllthy »ud t 'isojiona compound*, or as long as the smallest fee can aud In defpair. leave ynu with rained health u over your galling disappointment. : or. J la the only Phyvldwi ndvortising, ■ Hm credential or diplomas always hang in hli office, ois remedies or treatment are unknown t/»- all others, ired frmi a Uf** t»p?nt In tlu* great hospitals;of Europe. fi f *t In the country and a more extensive PrifoU Prae* tuau any other Physician in the world. ' ~ indorsement of the press. The mH«y thousands cured at this iMtlfaliOOi year after year. art«i the numerous important Surgical operations Pmonued by Johnston, witnessed by the reporters of this <• Clipper.” and many oltpr notices of " .y* v T# Appeared agaiu and again 'before the public, OMiaeg hu standing as a gentlemen of character and re* 'feasibility, u a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted. v. S*»N DISEASES SPEEDILY CURED. •rJI rsceived unless poet-paid vnd containing a oMdon the reply Persons wntjngihputd state tsaiidseud p mion of advertisement describing symptoms Utt!!* 0 . 0 * Tf* I ®* lhfmld h« particular in direcling their to .his Institution, in ths following msafcer: JOHN M. JOHNSTON. M. D.. 9* tJ *e SaUimore Lock Hospital, Maryland' S, PO-M- TERMS OF A»V»ETWI»C Uhoict THE CONVICT TO HIS MOTHErT The following lines are touchingly beautiful. The tuao who can write such poetry, who ha* each thoughts, can* not be utterly depraved although be in a convict in a pen iteatary and write* within gloomy walls: I’ve wander’d far from thee, mother, y Far from my happy home; I've left the lend that gave me birth, In other cllm&.tb roam; And time since then has rolled Its years. And marked them on my brow; Yet I have often thought of thee— I’m thinking of thee now, * I'm thinking of the day, mother. When, at thy Under skin, You've watched the dawning of my youth. And kiss’d us in! your pride; Then brightly was my heart lit up With hopes of future Joy, While thy bright foucy horiora wove To deck thy darling boy. I’m thinking of thq day, mother, When, with such'anaious care, .Yon lifted up your to Heaven; Your hope, your juyfwas- there; F* ill memory brings (by parting words While tsars stole’down your cheek; Your long, hut, loving look told more Than ever worts could speak. I’m for away from thee, mother, No friend is near ms now, To soothe me with a tender word Or cool my burning brow; The dearest ties affection wove Are all now torn from me; They jeft me when the trouble came— They did not love like^thee. I’m lonely and forsaken now. Uupitled and uoljest; Yet still 1 would not have thee know How sorely I'm distress'd; 1 know you would not chide, mother, You would not give me blame, fiat sooth me with your tender words. And bid* me hope again. 1 would nut have thee know, mother, How brightest hopes decay; The tempter, with hie baneful cup. Has dashed them all away; And shame has left its venom'd sting To mark with anguish wild; Yet still 1 would nut have diet* know The sorrow of thy child Oh, I’ve wander'd for mother. Since I deserted thee. And left thy tru ting heart to break Beyond the deep blue s«a. Oh, mother, still 1 love thee well. . And lung to hear thee speak, And feel again thy balmy breath Upon my careworn cheek. But, oh, there is a thought, mother, Pervades my beating breast, That thy foud spirit may have flown To its eternal restr And while 1 aipe the tear away. There -whispers in my car A voice that speaks of Heaven and thee, And bids me seek you there. ONLY A JOKE. “ And - when are you to be married, Annie?” asked my friend Lucy, as 1 care fully laid aside my bridal veil and wreath which 1 had been showing her. There was something; in tiie tone of her voice that struck a pang to my heart, though I knew not why, 'and I answered hastily,..while the warm blood mounted to my cheeks- “In two Weeks’from to-morrow even ing, if nothing happens to prevent.’.’ “ And that there will be anything hap pen you do not expect?” said Lucy, look ing seriously into my face. Of course, not; why should I, dear? Two weeks is not a very lengthy period, certainly ; and before half that time has expired Walter is coming to Elton.” Are you sure of this?” queried Lucy. “ As sure as we are pf anything,” I re plied. “Are you a prophetess? Can you peer into futurity, and tell me if there is any reason why this should not be so?” “ I am no prophetess,” sighed Lucy, “ and yet-—” f “And yet, whjvt?” I demanded, impa tiently, irritated by her manner. “ And yet, Walter may never come to you. If he should not—” “ She did not finish the sentence, but fixed her eyes sternly on my face. “ There are no ‘ ifa’ about it,” I said. “ What has taken possession of yo« that you appear so strangely t” “1 dare not tell you,” was the .slowly spoken reply; “but to-day I have learned something dreadful." “Dreadful! What put it be? Walter, no—nothing has happened to hjm, I am sure. Tell me—do not torture me a mo- inent” “ Walter—” “What, Lucy? I sjmll go crazy— you’ll kill me if you do not tell me!” I cried, grasping .her hands, and holding them firmly. ' “ Walter is married!” “Married, Luiqr— married —Is that all? Did you think to frighten me with such an absurd story as that? Shame!” I laughed hysterically as 1 said this, and team gushed freely from my eyes. \ •* It is true, Annie: I read it in to-day’s paper —Mr. Walter Mayo to Miss—Miss —I can’t think-*” “Heleh Wickney!” I gasped, grasping her hands again. “ Yes, that was the name. They were married in London.” . ! . ALTOONA, PA., TUESDAY, MARCH 10, 1863. “Have you seen the paper? I cannot credit what you have seen. I must read it—read it for myself!’’ She drew the paper from her pocket, and pointed to the marriage list. My eyes seemed starting from their sockets as I read. My senses -were not to be trusted, it could not be, and yet—-yet there it was, plain, simple and indisputable— “ Mr. Walter Mayo, of Elton, to Miss Helen Stickney, of London.” Walter Mayo, my—my Walter, mar ried to the proud, wealthy,- city belle 1" “Go from me, Lucy, please,” I said, turning away. “ Forget this —me —go 1” 1 staggered to a chair as she left the room. I pressed my hands to my throb bing temples. I tried to believe myself in some horrid dream from which 1 should soon awaken. I would not suppress my wild sobs of arief; I would let them come —the dreadful spell would sooner pass j away. But no, there was no change.— j My heart grew heavier every moment. The light that streamed in at the window was not that of the early morning upon which my eyes had just opened. There were sounds of busy life about the house. The children were out on the grassy lawn. I had heard their merry shout, and watch ed them at their play nearly all the long summer afternoon. 'J here were flowers on my table: real flowers that my little brother brought me in the morn, when the dew was on them. I was awake, alive! a reality. Before my eyes was proof of my in my hands I held it. God pity piel 11 was real, real. “ Mr. Walter Mayo to Miss Helen Stickney.” That wai- all; but my heart was break ing. My brain whirled like a maniac's. The mighty truth clasped itself almut everything. Jt was within me and around me—above and benealli me. There was no leaving ii—no forgetting it There was no rest lor me ; constantly my heart must bear up its terrible load of griet. And yet it was no wonder,” I thought, while the calmness of despair settled upon me : “ no wonder that he should prefer the brilliant, accomplished city belle to me— me. the simple, quiet and unpretending country girl ! I had often heard him praise her—she was like a sister to him, he had said. Perhaps, of a sudden, he had found that he had loved her better than me. God only knew !- But oh ! it was cruel —so hard to bear I I could not! could not live !” Dill people ever die when such grief came upon them ?”.l wondered. It so, J believe that 1 was dying. 1 rose and went to the mirror. My face was ms white as death—my eyes as wild and staring as though I had been wrestling with the great conqueror. Lines of purple lay about my lips, which looked as if they were frozen—frozen with such a pitiful expression of woe daguerreotyped upon them. I clasped my icy hands over ray eyes to shut out the picture which I bad not strength enough to turn away from. My senses seemed leaving me as, with a low moan of agony escaping from my lips, I sank helpless on the floor. When 1 awoke to consciousness, I was in my mother’s room, lying upon her bed, with her dear face, anxious and tearful, bending over me. I was extremely ill, she said. She had found me like one dead upon the floor of my room. H.;w long 1 had been there she could not tell. She had not called me at tea time because she thought I went out with Lucy Currier, and 1 had not returned. The doctor had said I must be kept quiet “The doctor!”'! repeated, wonderingly, staring into her face. “Yes, dear, the doctor—good Dr. Owens; here he is nowand she stepped aside that I might see him, but I turned my head away murmuring— “ Walter! Walter!” “Do you wish to see him?"’ asked the good old man, pressing his cool hand upon my forehead. “Seehim? Oh! no, no, sir!” I cried, sudden strength coming upon me at the thought; “I shall never see, him again.” “ Well, well, you needn’t; dear; don’t minid it,” he said, soothingly, believing me delirious. 1 sank wearily back upon my pilldw. and as I did so 1 heard my mother whis per niy name. I listened attentively. “Had we better telegraph to him?” she ;said. “ 1 here is no particular cause for your | doing so. A letter sent by mail to-inor- : row morning will answer as well. I.do not apprehend any serious results from this attack. Do as you please, however.” “We will send to-night, then. Walter: can come in -.the lirst train to-morrow,” answered, my father. “ Don’t, don’t send for him,” I cried, springing wildly up. “If you love me, ■ do not let him know that I am ill. I shall be better soon. Do not look at me so. -1 am not delirious—l know what 1 airi saying. Don’t send for him!” , h Why not 1” asked my father. “Because —because,” I faltered, “I cannot tell you why.” ‘‘ What is it, child?” queried my father. “ Walter will never come here again for is—” \ ' [independent in everything.] “ What ?” “ He is married to some one else. 1 read it in to-day’s paper,”, I said. To-day’s paper?” responded my mother. “ Yes, it is in my room ; go for it.” The paper was found, and the evidence of Walter’s perfidy read by every member of the family before the wretched truth could be realized. Then a blank silence followed, and my mother came to my bed side and put her dear arms lovingly around me, and said, if all others failed, she would rather suffer from his fickleness a thousand times over than bear up under his; it was all for the best, even though my heart broke under the burden which bore down upon it. How from my soul I blessed that mother fur the comforting words she spoke to me, and, while I nestled closely to her arms, like a frightened, grieved child, and felt warm tears upon my cheeks, her tender kisses upon my lips, through my sorrow, a little vein ot joy found its way, and 1 thanked God for my mother —(or rav mother’s love 1 In a few days I was up and about the house. My pride, that had been numbed by my first shock of sorrow, took up life again and tame faithfully to my aid. 1 put a seal upon my lips. Upon them should linger no regrets, play no words of passionate tenderness, tarry no names which had been once uttered with so much gladness. My heart should prison all its griefs, though in their rebellion it were torn and broken. Pride should be the stern sen-tin*-! which I would set to watch over it. Pride the sextou which should bury from the eyes of the world ray woe —the mutilated corpses of my once-bril liant hopes. The world should have no tombstones to look upon, and say that in such a place my dead was lying: I, and onlv I, knew the silent resting place.. Thus the davs went on till the time fixed tor Walter’s coming was at hand. 'I he story - of his marriage spread rapidly through the village. Every gossip was ( busy with this rare piece of news. II I 1 went out, 1 was watched as eagerly as ! though I were a condemned criminal or a , wild ferocious animal that was bent upon ] sonr? fatal mischief'. Some said 1 was most heart-broken; others that 1 was! nearly insane; and others atill that I had fallen into a sort of stupor from which I should never be roused ; that in all prob ability 1 should live but a short time.— God knows, I prayed that the last might be so; that every day I prayed not to see the light of another ; that the bridal robes laid away so carefully might be my shroud at the time I thought I should become a blessed, happy wife! The day ion which Walter was to come dawned at last. I knew —I expected that it would be a wretched one to me, and I shuddered when its light broke clear and rosily at my windows. Oh! how every thing mocked me on that morning. 1 he mist rose up like a fragrant breath from the lowlands at the first warm kiss of the sun, and lay like a white mantle at the feet of tho sweet green' bills. The fields stretched away, glistening in the sunlight, ■as though their mantles were studded with jewels; and the birds hymned out their praises rich and clear upon the morning air. In all this how wretchedly, how wickedly I cursed the very fate that made me look upon it—live to see it. I wandered out into the yvoods, where the silence grew more terrible than the busy, bustling sounds of human life. I went back to the village again—wearily toward home. I went past the railroad station. A train had juM; that moment coipe in. I had promised to meet Walter there at that very hour. I turned back. I knetv not why. Perhaps, L thought to cheat myself for a moment into the belief that I should meet him as I had promised, that the past week was a myth, a dream. As I did so a well known voice sounded upon my ear. I turned quickly around, the blood receding rapidly from my brow, cheeks and lips. Merciful heavens! Wal ter Mayo was standing before me with a beautiful, snowy dressed woman leaning upon his arm! “Oh! if I pould but be away from thip spot!” I thought as a terrible faintness came over me. Was pride frightened from her post again? -Should I give up there —sink before those cold, criticising eyes? No, no! With strong effort 1 j moved on directly past them. As I did so ? 1 Walter’s gaze fell upon mo. : “ Ah! there is Annie,” he said. “ This way, Helen,” and coming towards me, he held out his hand. ■ 1 drew back. A rapid light shot from : my eyes.: My lips quivered, and my ! whole frame trembled with emotion. I would not bear his insults, and every word that he might speak to me, after the ■ great wrong he had done, was indeed an insult. I looked disdainfully at his prof- I fered hand, and then turned away. I “ Why, Annie, what is the matter ? you I are looking as white as death! he exelaim | ed, laying his hand upon my arm. “Why !' do you turn away so? What does this mean?” “Oh! how the tenderness of his voice i went down to my heart, and pleaded wlth the stern sentinel, pride! How it room my quiet dead—my dead that I had placed in their graves—the cold, icy graves of forgetfulness! “Why do you dare to speak to me, sir?” I said, in a voice hoarse with pas sion. “I have no words to waste on you!” “ Annie, Annie, I cannot believe my senses. What is the meaning of this?” “Your heart is baser than I thought if you do not know the meaning. Let me go. I have nothing to say to you. 1 cannot wish you and your beautiful bride joy, even; for in my heart I have only curses—-curses for you! That is all.” “Bride, bride! Annie, are you mad? I have no bride.” I laughed his words to scorn as he utter ed them. “Do not add another falsehood to the pyramid that you have already raised,” I said. , “Yet what could be the use of such a denial?” I thought, as the words died away on my lips. “ You shall not go away until you ex plain yourself,” he said, grasping my hand firmly as I turned away again. “ Speak, Helen, tell her that I have no bride, and never hoped Co have, but her.” “But,” I began hesitatingly, my voice growing strange and hollow, “ but what did that mean—your marriage—in the paper?” “My marriage !Is it possible—did that cursed joke reach you ! and have you been crediting it all this while “ Is it not true? Oh! Walter, Walter.” “Sure, Annie, as I hope for Heaven, il is not. Some malicious person, I know not whom, sent the marriage to the paper. and the first that 1 knew of it was by tht report that began to circulate among Helen's and my friends. Oh! if I had only known this ; and still I ought to have known how it would have been,*' my poor, dear Annie! You are fainting. See, Helen, how white she is growing!’’ Taking me in his arms as though I had been an infant, lie bore me rapidly to a carriage, holding me tenderly to his breast while passionate regrets and words of en dearment fell from his Tips. We were married at the appointed lime —and I have no wish to die, out of all the blessed happiness that surrounds me. HOME CONVERSATION Children hunger prepetually for new ideas, and the most pleasant way of recep tion is by the voice and ear, not the eye and printed page. The one mode is natural, the other artificial. Who would not rather listen than read ? We, not unfrequently pass by in the papers a full report of a lecture, and then go and pay our money to hear the self-saine words uttered. An audience will- listen closely from the beginning to the end of an address, which not one in twenty of those present would read with the same attention.— '1 his is emphatically true of children. ’1 hey will learn with pleasure from the lips of parents what they deem it drudgery to study in the books; and even if they have the misfortune to be deprived of the educational advantages which they desire, they cannot fail to grow up intelligent it they enjoy in childhood and youth the privilege of listening daily to the conver sation of intelligent people, let parents, then, talk much and talk will at home. — A lather who is habitually silent in his own house, may be, in many respects, a wise man ; but he is not wise in bis silence. We sometimes see parents, who are the life of every company which they en ter, dull, silent, uninteresting at home among their children. If they have not mental activity and mental stores suffi cient for both, let them first provide for tl cir own household. It is better to in struct children and make theta happy at hom£, than it is to charm strangers or am ude, friends. A silent house is a dull place for young people—a place from which they will escape if they can. Ihey will talk and think of being “shut up” there; and the youth who does not love home is in danger. Make home, then, a cheerful and pleasant spot. Light it up with cheerful instruction. Father, mo ther, talk your best at home. A Fhiohtesed Vibgdoan.—An army corrcspodent of the -W est Chester Repub lican tells the following good orteßab bits being numerous, and sfaputing pro hibited, the boys became effected with a snare-setting mania, and many of them brought in numerous prizes. But Capt. Worthington caught the largest, if not the most digestible. Finding » stout hickory sapling in a goodplace, he attached to it a strong cord. On going to it the next morning he heard a noise and saw it fly. 'Bushing up to get his rabbit, he found he bad caught a man W leg, who, scared nearly to death, entreated him to let him go, and said he always heard the Yankees had many inernaiTma chines, but never expected to be caught i in one of them. He bad never heard of | a snare, could not ta convinced of itsuje. 1 and when released, made a beeline home.” EDITORS AND PBGEBIETOHS THE COHSCRIFTIOS BILL. The following is a summary of the chief points of the Conscription bill which has just passed the Senate. After a preamble which sets forth the reason for the measure, it is- enacted that all able bodied male and foreign ers who have declared their intention to become citizens, who are between the ages of twenty and thirty five years, shall be ; declared to constitute the national forces, and .liable to perform military service when called upon by the Ih-esident, Section second exempts from service such persons as are rejected; as physically or mentally unfit for the' service: also, first, the Vice President of the United States, the judges of the various courts of the United States, the heads; of the various executive departments of the government, and the Goverments of the several States-, and second, the only son liable to military duty of a widow dependent upon bis labor for support; third, the only ; son of aged or infirm parent or parents dependent upon his labor for support; fourth, where there are two or more sons of aged or infirm parents subject to draft, the father, or, if he be dead, the mother may elect which son shall be exempt; fifth, the only brother ot children not twelve years old, having neither father nor mother, depen dent upon bis labor for support; sixth, the lather of motherless children under twelve years of age dependent upon his labor for support; seventh, where there are a father ind sons in the same family and house hold, and two of them are in the military services of the United States as non-com missioned officers, musicians or privates, the residue of such family, hot exceeding two, shall be exempt; and no persons but -ueh as are herein exempt shall be exempt —provided, however, that no person who has been convicted of any felony shall be enrolled or permitted to serve in said lorces. Section third makes two classes of the Enrolled citizens. The first class consists jf all those subject to duty bet ween the iges of twenty and and thirty-five years, tnd all unmarried persons over thirty-five years who are subject to duty. '1 he sec ond class embraces all othei s subject to military duty, and these are not to be called out until the first class has been culled into service. Section four to ten inclusive makes the District of Columbia, each of the terri tories, and each Congressional district, an enrolling district, and authorizes the ap pointment of a Frovost Marshal for each district, under whose superintendence the draft shall be made. AU persons who are enrolled are liable for two years from the date of enrollment to be called into the military service of the United States tor three years, unless sooner discharged. Section twelve declares that when the draft shall be made in any district, the enrolling board for that district, consist ing of three persons, the provost marshal its president, and bayipg a practising pbysican or surgeon for one of its mem bers, shall make a draft of the citizens subject to military duty, of the number required, and fitly per cent, in excess. All conscripts are to report in ten days. 'I hose who wish may procure exemption by fnrnishing.a substitute or by the pay ment of three hundred dollars/ Any conscript tailing to report for duty, or who does not procure exemption, is to be treated as a deserter, unless he cun show he is not liable to military dqty. Section fourteen provides for the in spection, .by an army surgeon, of all drafted men. and the discharge of those not able bodied. After the required num ber of able bodied men are obtained the remainder will be discharged. Section eighteen is to encourage militia and volunteers now in the service to reen list by the payment of additional bounties. It in also provided that when a regi ment of the tame army 'from any State has lost half its men by battle, that the companies of the regiment shall he con solidated, and alt superfluous officers dis charged. Another section empowers courts martial to reduce to the ranks officers who shall be found guilty of absence without leave, to serve three years dr during the war. 1 The remainder of the act provides for trials, &c., grades of rank* and is of no importance to the general public. All the most important points of the bill are presented above. he following appeared on a letter sent from a soldier to a young lady: . Soldier’s letter and na’ia red, Hard tack in place of bread- Postmaster shove this through, I’ve na’ra stamp but seven months due. O* A gentleman recently arrived from Canada, states that a fee of fifteen hundred dollars was paid to him the other day in wholly in American silver. He didn’t want the stoff,but was compelled to take it. How horrid! 99* A duel was fought in Mississippi lately by. S. K- Knott and A. W. fchott. 'I he yriyf, Knott w-88 Bhi[)h |ihd Shirt t .fas. .pot';; *f>"****y ;r° would rather bayehoen Shotttla»Knott. \ - t ♦ NO. 6.