I
0 WILLIAMS.
If
f
PSSPIi
rclware, &c.
,i r , Im»u,c t»k«i ii» of tin-U«rdw»rr
i,j „ u .( v.„ r<r-i:tiv uruit-r tlh? chaXjtr
■4,, ,i!i Vir.-iol* •li-i-t. AppuMl* Ke»»l»r’t
IH-iivio ■ -ifC' : v i<iU»ir»u>tJ>»rr no»
uili, anvil, jin; m MMiCMkn
Aoa- l»,-JWW«. ChlooU.
’n.a'BP Tr I'iiOi*. ilil.CM. LotJiS. MM,
Ikd Ac, »U of which
iu-*r r /<■...ij*Mr it mu*.
jluir M.'.i'i.'- in tl»'- lUfdmwe Him *r»
it am! -x-tmiM sb*ir *:o *.
pAinf-. Carbon lb*ir
dll iUw *nklea*i* »oiall «d
-•hi
ji«r» titsuuf '
)VE 13, U SI NESS,
ki> .S,ar*i :,i' fr-on which ♦ay
vi v;’ 4i 'irr.< I*-* 10 llieir £**acy.
D SHEET IKON WARE,
. WILLOW-WARE
.; r .{-plv.aj.ii %rill malw^bord*
tm v i-Ti r;«»< - *. -
:4- sit?» j»r
K(>. AND
it -sil e rn U:> l>f-l »1v If.
•rtf ;
rtnd
OoO^)8.
*iv\V
tl v-oiiiG i i*j»fCtlully in
.-»* A-r-. u» un-\ kunouiidiuß com*-
jvtcSVd ft ;-ci> ih- Ka»", where h# be*
«CK ;f
XD WINTER GOODS,
; V ; O.te vi 5 . caV sarpvaed ifi
;i*.iry, * iln- st-'CR i- m;»ch larger IIiAQ
.jaih* «3i •WJ- ct. in tnene exciting
i V i-«jr i:> , - where thejr cao get
«?.ls and at the Lowest Prices,
h- >'2;} nri*i w»U sell a* D-w. If hot •
;»e in tl*place He wisbe*
i- h:.» -; k k - jnurhuiag elsewhere.
ij-;a {;•_ caji DjTvr i?Khirrnicnt» which will
t; II;* fhx'fc-C-iO-ift*! of
ilESf* UOUUS of even* description,
I>*YS* WINTER WEAR.
,■* AND MISSES’ DRESS SHOES.
AM' ROYS' BOOTS ANL* SIIOESV
MEN S U-.LF Ho3*
S A*»D MISSES’ WOOL HOSE.
.O AND UNBLEACHED MUSLIN,
ONtiimiS AND HEAVY DRILLINGS.
..UesSewm, Heeled Booteci at $1.30(^1.75'
;... .
... 2,75?5g*3.30
.iiRTS. •«.
an oueuies.
.-■wh S-u.tr. Lie G-fi'-*-*. S.vrojx, Tea*. Ac.*'
ke;-t in a Prv Genets Store,
J. A. SFKANKLE.
LY' DYE COLORS
c-nsed Ot:v«j*cr Kiib. 1863.
*ar?r Grtm*
.i'j'd C
{<wu.
’i-rptf.
iuya' l*urpu,
hhii'.fi.
’• ■ tr .
’st'-rlna.
1 '(,'dtt it«.
f UWr)J £c*rfe,
<:fil- ' •»■'. J•■'!;'*• |*. H»u, fealbOT,
[ V‘-4. Ch;’-- • u'- Ll-Iljinp. aiid kil ; ‘
|k:-jri- .J W*-,nn'j t : 1
l-S’G OF 8 ) I’El! CENT. “Ct
ra'i r. >’>. r a* niRTJy pc«da a-H wt«tild oU>*
!!»•»: iWit t'um YurinQ* shade* qu m
' r*> *Th»* |U slrtU'le «od
h |>erft*rt (*acce*e. Directfoot
in i<ie of *ack package,
U» I> »-L* v p. and x perfrct
tl r d’-r- >r- l*-*t *tiajjt»x{ V» dye uT«r otb
i-nirhaw Uoar* £ Ste
in'viu* xu-! Coloriojc. Jkiit bjr mail om
-bf cmt* ilani;fxrtnrxj l-y
UOWK i STfcVEXS,
•h 'w
•71 *: <1 u
2->> DBO£t.WAT., Borrov
;rcj*n aiid ir^D^nUlT.
TOVES,
r SI ILEX-IKON WAKE.
:.«SEK.SIG.NED WOULD BK
-1!;V
U.ui
t t«rcfl-
J!
1
a r I. * r.
pritf-i.
U'£T-ll7oy. WAI7Z. ia great rartety, r
vO & SPOUTING
ir - ra r<-^p.• r-t'Tu: t Mnjr r>v*:n to hb
! ■ ” l *' r ;Q L«nd md assortment of coj»
ire. .
tn.
fcTK.'HEN WIXTEES.
11 and Sheet Iron Ware.
>TJTINCt. &c.
WOULD ■*
rot cfc* cit'wne of
Ic-.-kfwpecan-ta&tlv
' torkT- Oj&et gMdnHft
fc . iukJ sis?**, tosnit-tb?
hr will fell at low «a rmui-
• bnc-ia iwjre of Tin imd SJtetS*
il ‘? ??*ll fcntlcl«a fvr colitiarjparpofe*—
i’ipe: <ff. ' *
tsaw-d Lh*- r jbt of Mle in Blair cpnos?
i h kacsage stcffeh,
•’ vmJy to be »eea to be appreci*.
e \a erery tanner, botcher or thaw
*
if tf*nti - on paid to putting npSPOCTOM* ;
%-natry. rating painted and pot op
kntir term*. fipril 14,18^*17
I ASSOCIATION.
PHrLADKLI'TIIA. PA.
&«maai. Ciinary »ud deratl
rt'Jifcbie tivAtrueLt—io KepctH of tb*
ii ATio3f— mail by mail in sealed letter
r charge. Address. Itr. J. igKTtJ.nC
r*rd Aeeotiatkm. 5. v . 2 £oCtii Siatb SL,
(Jan. 30
.TINT GOOD COFFEE,
of iZtoooiatH. Strop* mod BoMMf»
KHJTCHKTO
U’ ACKERS I A fresh np>
OirScHU. crw-kirs just receiv'd «A#S«r
v PKITCHKTS
CREAM CHEESE AT
•’ istrcHsTS.
bL» CAiiJ'ETING AJfb
h*>, f.»no3 a ' LAPOnKAIP*.
•S NK W stoke; corner
»-? V>nrie>« Ft«.
- i
ye?
msj
m?
McCIUJM & DERN.
vo u y
■[ J-’ aLTOOJ'O tkiblnk.
, . . - B.C. D£RX.
y a 4 ,x, r »0f»tu»««.
~m ,p»TiW- invariably iu. »\ W
, J j,£m .)iV?;.ntiua->5 M «••• '‘XJ»r»tion of the time
..r Ai*Txr.Tisixtv
1 in^.riioif
' ■-* 25 f 37U » 50
f ■«' »<* * jr. 75 100
i!D >!»»"■ If a “* 100 150 1 200
*•' w 1 I 2 00 2 60
tb«~ monlta, 35«du
for each iu*rtion.
G month* 6 month*. 1 year.
t s ; i J 3 00 $ 5.00
- 4 oo : oo
o 00 10 oo
S 00 12 00
10 00 14 00
14 00 20 00
as oo 40 oo
... 175
.ifjr-t or less
■jn-‘ >-iuare
. .. -4 <*■
..... & 00
. »UX)
S .
• : ” : OT to 4wdii*i
~-'?™'-J V; ~cU<linz to the store r»M*.
c.t-.re... W 11: .■<■ c.. it v ,),, number of inser
. ’ b till forbid snd charged
: “ &??” STpee Hoe forevc-7 insertion.
.•;:'rS not icl litres, fifty cent* ssqosre
Thre#
T‘-vr
'main
TRUE TO THE LAST
BY a imusoseb OF WAR
■ When Sr. Hens rfe Mavicv wen: m.o t..e • • --
• .a he hastiir penciled, on rite piaimg
J ,r<i the address of his !ady-iove ; and
-d; : •in n,..- o«- o£de«i.
He wee kilk-d. bm hi.- friend forwarded
the -ml rocroento ,>t Ids constancy, a- directed.
Ka:K .VyAi hali-.-t .V-Ae
Tin- busies blow ihii battk-eall.
c;)fh St-li'-Cltt band
.alii thrnnsh
it, serried column form.-.
Vl for G.hl and native land
lir ne n-.?n an- man-bin? by niv -ids
■r~ rli.-ating glad and free
11 haaiie
amid «bi- oriiliant .•oont'
J e rar to thee
i,.irsemen to and iro—
-1 drams will! wild and thunderous rolf—
r. -iahis Ktni sounds—al! things that lend
i ■ bind:-.- valor in the soul:
ail are here—hut in the maze
■jnadron? moved ivi:h :urkm? clee
it- to i.-verv Vir.v vre mruse
- to thee
F’.-i• deep itouais smite the trembling air,
M.uii throb proclaims the foeman near.
Ana taintiv echoed from the from,
1 hear mv g-tUaty oo|nrad»' cheer. •
While, joy of heroes marching on
! trough blood. their'glorious lend to free!
. to freedom here my life—
Hu: ali nty thoughts to ti.ee!
And vet, beloved, I must no; think
A’ re,' undreamed 'vote may soon be thine
li would unman me in the work
i »•' guarding well our country's shrine
litre on this sword I write mv truth ;
T'.eje words-shall vet thy solace be,
ibet'll tell how in this last fierce hetir
1 gave my thoughts' to thee.
Along the east the holy morn
lb-news life’s many cares and jc-ys.
Tr.i- hoar I hope some wish for me
To. pure and tenderipmyer employs. 1
.\n-tber iieauteous oaten of light
IV.-S ak-
n.:iv iievr-r -eu : .
n .iiid'niaimed, \
15.’1T -.-Virn (jyin r
I ' : ?1] 'vosiW i
.\Tr\ i'icn in coining ye;irs that roll,
V. :wn oi peace and brightness throng,
A::.i round encii happy :hour is twined
I wreaths of friendship, love, and song :
Un :s» hi> grave whose bean was thine.
And by that spot a mourner be—
<>n-* t»*ar for him thy loved and lost,
\V : i >.e last thought clung to thee !
s ; tlut IpstHlang.
THE AMATETJE BOATMAIT;
HOW I WON MY BET.
M v thoughts were just then tuMed upon
a Wt I had made, and which had hap
rather oddly. It was between six
,ol iii— Ned Darwell, Wood, Lucas, and
on.- ot his cousins, Andrews, and mjself.
And lie who shook hands first with a cer
tain young lady was to win the stakes,
called roy attention to her as we were
walking in the Hose. Gardens, listening to
the music.
"By Jove !” he said, nipping my arm, |
there’s a jolly-girl."
She had very dark hair and eyes, which
were rendered the more attractive, by a
bewitching, little mauve hat, 1 with a white
veil 1 ied behindin a bow. She was rather
tall and slight, but very graceful ; and her
little feet as they, peeped oat every now
and then from under her muslin dress
tor the grass was rather damp, and the
dress had to be held up—seemed perfection.
She was accompanied by an old, soldierly
looking gentleman, and a young'fellow of
about twenty-two or twenty-three years of
age was walking by her other side.
“ Who is she ?" I asked.
I don't know," answered Ned. Some
new importation. Hallo ! here’s Lucas ;
he is sure to know. I say, Lucas, my boy,
who isthat dark girl with the hat*”
" Oh! hang the girl' with the rum
sbaped ha; . She's Letitia Turner. Ev
ery body knows her ugly phiz.”
" No; the ope with the mauve hat and
white veiL There, man alive, can't you
see * There, just turning round at the end
of the walk. Do you see her now ?"
“ Don’t know her at all,” said the other.
.“Do you, John? - ’ he asked, turning to
his cousin.
Z tli>.
" Never paw her before,” said the cou
sin. “ But she’s awfully swell.”
Then Wood and Andrews strolled up.
They asked us ; the very question we were
going to ask them ; so we discovered that
the young lady was a perfect stranger to
us all. Whereupon Lucas undertook to
rout her out, as he called it, and tell u«.
" I say, Lucks.” said Ned, who was ra
ther jealous of. the ascendancy Lucas had
gained over us. in the honor of finding out
and becoming; acquainted with different
young ladies. ‘'l’ll bet you anythin'* you
like that I’ll shake hands with her before
you will. There, Lucas, my boy. there's
a fair bet for vlou.”
10 c«o
“ Done,” crjed Lucas.
Then Wood chimed in—
“ So will I. that I'll shake hands before
either of you.” ' *■
And tljen live rest came forward, each
willing fo make the same offer.
So the bet w ; as made, and it was about
it thaf I was thinking when old Dan. the
boatman, spoko to me ,
•' Very strapge scenes in these Imats
sometimes,” he said, nodding at me- over
his oars. ‘“They say a London cabman
could tell a good deal,” he continued, still
nodding. “ But. bless you,-what can they
see or hear ? There they sit, flogging their
poor horses, while the people are behind
them, shut up an a rattling, rackety tiling.
They can’t hear. sir. How can they f
Now we, you' see, Mr. Fred, when we
come forward ' like this, we could almost
kiss the people’ much there hear what they
To prove his assertion, old Dau suited
his action to his words, and beut over his
oars, leaning forward as far as he could.
Having finished his long speech, he nod
ded again mysteriously, as if to say,
•■'There, I have enlightened you quite
enough for one day.” and then pulled on
again. •
As he seemed inclined to be sil.nt, aiid
did not speak, my thoughts gradually re
verted to our bet. Lucas had told us that,
the young lady was Miss Leith, that, the
old gentleman was Major Leith, and that
they and Mr. Henry Leith were living at
No. G Marine Gardens. i?o much infor
mation he had fathered from the Clltlgaie
Chronicle: but that was not an intro
duction, and he ruefully said to me that
he saw' no chance of getting one. All his
numerous cousins had proved perfectly
useless on thisoccasion. Among us Ned
had been the most lucky. Miss Leith had
bowed and thanked him when he picked
up 5i book which she dropped upon the
parade. I came second. In passing once
i was honored with a second look. The
rest were' nowhere: and just a week
had elapsed since we made the bet. Up
to the present time Miss Leith had been
invincible, though we bad all done our
utmost to obtain an introduction. Not
that any of us cared for the stakes ; they
were trifling enough; but there was a
spirit pF emulation at work within us for
the honor of the first shake of the hand of
the young lady. The moreftlßcult it be
came, the more edger we all were to win
the bet. :We had tound out that nobody
in the town knew her, so we were thrown
upon our own
She went down to the beach every
morning when it was fine, and walked
upon the parade in the afternoon, but was
always accompanied by either her father
or the young fellow announced in the
Chronicle as Mr. Henry Leith. Whether
Mr. Henry Leith was her brother or her
cousin, and in the latter case her lover, we
could not IN out. But we put him down
: for a brotKer.:
We had told Dan about our bet, and he
had promised to help us if he could. That,
perhaps, wai the chief reason why I seized
the opportunity of having him to myself
for an hour.
“ Seen Miss Leith, Dan ?"
The. old fellow-shook his head.
“ I heard she was fond of pulling,
though," he said, after a short time.
"Oh I indeed," I answered, as a thought
struck me. 1 “ I say, Dan, I shall want
your boat for two or three hours a day for
the next week or so."
Dan had been in the habit of lending
me his boat, because he knew that I could
pull and manage it properly. I did not
anticipate any trouble in getting it, so I
was surprised iyhen he appeared to hesi
tate. ;
“ What are you going *o do with it, sir,
. may I ask ?”
j ” Never you mind, Dan. You lend me
’ the boat. What I do with it is nothing
i to you : that is, as long as I don’t damage
it.” 1
“ You are right, sir. You shall have
it.”
He smiled as he spoke, and I could
easily see that, he guessed for what pur
pose I wanted the boat. However, he
said nothing Jill the hour was up. Then,
as I was getting out, he railed me by niy
name, and said, rn a low tone —
ALTOONA, PA.. SATURDAY. OCTOBER 22, 1864.
“I have known you now for a long
lime, Mr. Fred. Do mind what yon are
about, sir. Young women are changeable
creatures. I should not like you to Tte
taken in.”
His voice was so sad. and his old bronzed
face looked so troubled; that I knew he
was speaking from experience—perhaps
from some bitter lesson he Lad learned in
blsyouth, and which in some way accounted
for the odd name.of bis tfoat.
Come, old Cato,” Isaid, ‘‘it is only
to win the bet. lam not in love with the
young lady, tayc you to-morrow. Ta
ta." ' '
The next morning, according to 1 our
agreement, Dan brought: the boat around
to : the part of the beach hearest to my
house. I did not live in the town, hut
some ten minutes’ walk from it, along the
cliff: and there was a path from the house
down to the beach. He found me there,
dressed in an old boating suit, with my
face hid as much as possible by a large
slouching hat. I was then twenty-four,
but looked a little older; and I meant in
this disguise to lay siege: to Miss Leith.
“Be careful, Mr. Fred.” were the only
words he said as we exchanged places.
Then I pulled leisurely to where the
visitors generally resorted. How ell this
would help me to obtain an introduction I
was not clear: but I was. to.tell the truth,
jealous of her having spoken to Ned: and
I thought that, at any rate, I should be
able, in my capacity of boatman, to get a
word from her. 1 had also a hazy idea
that I might pos-ibly giveher band a little
shake as 1 helped her oht of the boat, if
ever I were fortunate enough to persuade
heir to come in. I thought that it would be
extremely agreeable to sit opposite to her
for an hour, hearing .her talk, and also al
most near enough to kiss her.as Dan said,
whenever I leaned forward
“ Boat, this morning,-sir?” I said,as I
pulled past the place where Miss Leith
and her brother were sitting.
“ .Not this morning, thank you." he an
swered. ,
I had spoken a> much, like the Cliflgate
boatman as I was able. • Lucas, too, bad
heard me, and looked up: but did not
seem to recognize either me or my voice,
and that emboldened me. Then the 'ma
jor came down with his Times, and Mr.
Lei'h left them lor his morning bath, j,
saw him plunge in and swim out to sea ;
and, as I wanted to follow his example, I
determined to pull home and change my
clothes.
“ Well, 1 will have one more try,” 1
thought,- “as I have to pass the Major.
Perhaps he may like to go too.”
When I came up to I him he had put
down the paper, and was watching his son
through a field-glass. Jliss Leith was sit
ting at his feet, sketching and talking to
hiru-
“I am afraSfd Ha rry is going out too far, j
Helen,” I heard him say. j
“But he is each a |capital swimmer, j
papa. Where is he now?”
She then closed her sketch-book v and ■
stood by his side, looking across the sunny j
water for her brother, i
“There; that little- black speck is his 1
head. He is'coming back now.” j
“Oh! what a way ho is out. Oh! papa,;
what is the matter she said, asastrong 1
crv from Mr. Leith reached her ears. j
“ Nothing, nothing. 1
he said, beckoning to me.
In a minute he had scrambled into the
boat, and we had left the beach.
“ Pull, man ! He has got the cramp!
A hundred pounds if you reach him before
he sinks! Harry! Harry!” he bawled
out, “ keep up. Oh ! my boy, for God’s,
sake, keep up! Pull i with your left.
Now you are straight. Pull both. Hard!”
I have often rowed in a race, but I never
pulled with such will as I did on that day.
The boat was the best in Cliffgate, and it
seemed to fly over the water as I put nil
my‘strength and weight into each stroke.
I have just a dim recollection of seeing
crowds upon the beach running about,
while the major stood in the stern without
moving or speaking, wa'ching his sinking
i son.
“Oh! my God. he is down!" burst
from the old gentleman as he sank back
wards upon the seat and covered his face
with his hands.
I can remember dropping the oars and I promised to do so, and nothing more
tearing off my hat and boots. As I turned was said about it during our pull,
round'll saw", scarce six yards from the “Good bye," said Mr. Henry Leith,
head of the boat, a hand rise, then a head when he was on the boach. “ Thegov-
it was his last struggle—and then both ! ernor has had all the talk to himself to
went down together. A moment after- day: but I shall see you again soon.”
wards I was in (he water, catching hold “ Good bye,” said Miss Leith, with a
of something large and white, and rising nod, as her brother helped her out. —
with it to the surface. Flow 1 found it, I “ Good bye.”
don’t know ; but I knew (hat it was the “ I wonder if she will nod and smile,”
young man. I felt his arms cling to my I thought, “when she finds out who! am.
neckband his weight pull me down. I I shall be certain to see her again this
could swim well, and as my head rose afternoon at the bank ; but she won’t
above the water, and I saw the glorious know me without this hat. I’ll risk it at
bright sun, my love of earth seemed so any rate. What a jolly smile she has!”
strong, and the thought of death so terri- Though I did not expect to be reepg
ble, that I struggled hard to keep afloat, nized, I had, whilst dressing, sundry
But my clothes were thick and impeded qualms about going; aqfcwhen the time
my limbs. His arms were tightly clasped came for me to start, I was sitting in the
round my neck, and his dead weight was window, still hesitating. 1 had just deci
pulling, forever pulling me down. ded that I would not go, when,Ned walked
Then something dark caine between me up the garden and stepped into the room,
and the light, and the| old boat, with the! “Well, old fellow, you’ll be late” hg
[nfDEPEKDKNT IX EVERTTHTKG.]
major in it, glided past almost at arm’s
length I made a clutch—a rope tea's
trailing in the water —and as I caught it,
and pulled myself with my burden to the
side, I heard the shout from the beach,
and felt the major’s band unclasping his
son’s arms from my neck.
“■ I’ll hold biro- You get in attheother
side. Come, that’s well done,” he said, as
we lifted Mr. Leith into the boat. “Notv,
you row in,-and. I’ll soon bring him to.”
It was nut the first time, as I afterwards
learned, that the major had helped to re
suscitate a half-drowned person. He
knew exactly what'to do; and, under his
skilful treatment, his son opened his eyes
before we reached the shore. ,
•• 1 must dress him before I can convey
him home." said the major.
■So I took them to the young man’s ba
thing machine,, and then pulled away,
partly to change .my clothes and partly to
avoid being known. I succeeded hi the
latter even better than I had hoped : for,
when I met the major and his daughter on
the parade in the afternoon, they did not
recognize me. I had left my slouching
hat at home, and ray hair and whiskers
were not then plastered tci my face with
water. I also found out that nobody had
noticed me in the morning; so I deter
mined to play on my new character as
boatman. Whereupon, the hext day,
assuming the old disguise, 1 went forth
, again in search of fresh adventures. :
“Oh! there he is. papa.” Miss Leith i
said, as 1 passed.
“Ah!■ so he is. Here, my man, we
will go for a pull to-da)’. How arc you
! this morning ? Caught no cold yesterday,
1 1 hope ?"
' “JJy.Jovc! I don’t know how to thank
, you,” said Mr. Henry Leith, shaking my
| hand as soon as he was in the boat.
; “ But I want to have a jaw with you
j some time.” ... »
: Then the tnajor, muttering some thanks,
i heW-out his hand ; and Misa Leith gave
: me her brightest smile, which I prized
more than all.
“ How strange, papa,” she said, reading
\ the name of the boat. " You know Miss
• Hemery told us to have this one before we
! came.” ]
; “ Bless me, yes. I have heard a great j
j deal about you, Mr. Baker fold Dan). 11
! iieard that you were very sober, and very
j respectable, and all that sort of thing. It i
■ seems to me, too.Hhat you were not always j
I a boatman,” he said, glancing at my
I hands, which were rather whiter than the j
j flippers of the sons of Neptune generally '
I are. “So, if you like to give up this sort
i of life, why I’ll take care that you always
j have a snug roof over your head.”
j I thanked him very much but I told
him that I liked iny life very well. In
fact, I was fairly stumped as to what to
say. I felt half inclined to laugh at be
ing taken ipr old Dan ; and yet 1 felt that
the major ought not to be allowed to con-
I tinue in his mistake.'
“ You seem rather young to be such a
hermit. Come, you must marry. 1 will
; find you a wife, and keep her well, too.”
“ Yes, you must forget the Faithless
| Maid, now”’ said Miss Leith, smiling
i again. I suppose she bad heard some of
: the conjectures about Dan’s life.
1 “I do not mean to be inquisitive,” the
i major said, “ but I cannot bear to see a
I young.man like you, and one, too, who is
|so superior to this sort of work, settling
. down to such a life. Remember what we
’ owe to you. Will you not tell me your
I trouble ?■ I may be able to help you:
1 and I swear I won’t spare money or trou
i ble to make you happy.”
Although, of course, I did not want any
‘ pecuniary help, his kind way in offering
‘ it, and the fatherly manner in which he
;■ put his hand upon my shoulder as I bent
forwards, made me ashamed of the trick
which 1 had played upon him. He must
I sooner or later find it out; and I wondered
I within myself, as I leaned over the oars,
I looking down, with his hand upon my
j shoulder, whether he would then be so
j kind as now.
“ I should like to see you privately to
-5 morrow, sir,” I said, putting off the time
i as long as 1 could. ?
■i ° .
“ Very' well, then. Come in the morn
ing at eleven —No. (> Marine Gardens.
Ask for Major Leith.”
Keep still, girl,’
said, tapping my knees with his stick.
“ Don’t be so idle. Come along.”
“lam not going, Ned.”
“Not going! Why not? Miss Leith
is sure to be there. Ah! I sea. You
find it’s no good struggling against me. I
respect your sense of discrimination ; but
I can’t walk there without, somebody.
Just come to keep my company.”
So 1 took iiis arm and we strolled to
gether into the Rose Gardens.
“There’s that swell girl T met last
night,” he said. “ Lucas will be at her
side in a minute if 1 don’t look out. Ta
ta.”
Dropping my arm,"he saised his hat to
the young lady,, and then walked off by
her side just as Lucas came up-
“ I don’t think Miss Leith is. here,” said
Lucas to me : “ but there is Letitia Turner
at the other end, looking such an awful
fright.”
Letitia. who was on the wrong side of
thirty, honored me, when we met, with a
most gracious bow. She certainly did
look, as Lucas said, “an awful fright
and whilst I was admiring the gorgeous
ness of her “ get up,” I awkwardly trod
upon the dress of a lady who was sitting
down.
't I beg your pardon,” I said, turning
routid and raising my hat
It was Miss Leith ; and 1 saw in a mo
ment,. from the .blush that colored hex
cheeks, that I was recognized. It was
my voice, I knew, that had betrayed me ;
but I walked on till I came to the railings
that hounded the gardens. , There was no
gate at the side where i was, or I should
have gone out; and the nearest one was
exactly opposite the seat which the Leitli
occupied. I ' waited for some minutes
looking over the railings, s(nd then turned
round.- And standing directly in front of
me was Major Leith, thus entirely cutting
off all means of retreat.
“ How do you do, Mr. Baker ?” he
said, with a grin, while I felt rather un
comfortable. ..
Then I stammered out something, apolo
gizing for the deceit I had practised.
“ I was going to tell you to-morrow,” I
said ; “ but I hope, that you will not think
the worse of me for it”
“By my faith, sir, that I wont. I
thought, this morning, that you looked a
devilish gentleman-like boatman, and said
so to my daughter. It is I who have to
apologize for calling to you, yesterday, as
1 did : but I bad not time to look at you.
I only saw a man in boatman’s clothes,
and, of course, took you for one. Give
me your hand,” he said, stretching put his
own. and then addinjg, with a laugh,
“ though, I suppose, now, you will not
want me to put a roof over your head, yet
i shall always be heartily glad to see you
under mine. By-the-bye, as you are no
longer Mr. Baker, what name do you mean
to assume now .
“ Astley.”
“ Well, then, Mr. Astley, I hope this
will be the beginning of a long friendship.”
“I am sure, sir, nothing will give me
greater pleasure.” ■
“It was Baker’s boat, though, you were
in?” he said
“ Yes —The Faithless Maid.”
“Then, as I live, Baker shall have the
wife and the cottage.”
“I won’t answer for the wife,” I said.
“ Then he shall have the cottage with
out her. He shall have something. I
will go and find him now. You come
with me and I’ll introduce you.”
“ My daughter, Mr. , I beg your
pardon. I have a shocking memory for
names.”
“ Astley.” I suggested.
“Mr. Astley,” he said, “ the amateur
boatman.”
At this we all laughed, and Miss Leith
blushed. Then the major, with a hearty
farewell, left us and went on his errand.
“ 1 caught him,” he said, when he re
turned. “He has consented, after a slight
skirmish, to live with me, and have a
place to harbor his old hulk in. We must
go now, Helen. Private, to-morrow at
eleven, eh, Mr. Astley? Well, 1 hope 1
shall see you soon.”
“ Thank you, major. Good bye, Miss
Leith.”
“Good bye, Mr. Astley,” she said, put
ting out her hand. , ' „
Lucas and Ned, who were wandering
about, passed at that moment. They both
looked—the envious wretches—-and actu
ally scowled at me asl took the little hand
and shook it.
And so I Won our bet. '
. And besides the bet, I won also that
which had caused it; for soon afterwards
Miss Leith gave me her hand “ to shake,”
as she herself said, •* as often as ever 1
liked.".
j Seek Energy.— Self energy is the true
j life of a man. To think by otfaer men’s
! thoughts is no true faith. The mind must
[by its own independent exertions seek and,
j so far as its native powers will enable it,
! arrive at the modes and causes of the truth
! of those propositions it receives as truths,
i or substantially it will think and believe
j nothing. Substantially, neither will the
I propositions exist, for it, nor for them. —-
I They will be nonentities i and it will Only
i dream of understanding them.
EDITORS AND PBOPMBTOfiS.
A FJSK FICTCSJB OF
Here Is a deecriptionj by a Cincinnati 5
Gazette correspondent, of Gen Sherman
as he appeared on the march around
Atlanta: ; ,
While I was.watching to-day the end
lees line of troops shilling by, an officer,
with a modest escort, yode up to the fence
near which I Was standing, and dismounted
He was rather tall and slender, and his
quick movements donated, good muscle ad
ded to absolute leanness, not thinness.
His uniform was neither new nor old, but
bordering on a hdzy mellowness of gloss,
while the elbows and knees were a little
accented from the continuous agitation of
those joints.
The face was one I should never rest
upon in a crowd, simply because, to my •
eye, there was nothing remarkable in it,
save jho nose, which organ was high, thin,
and planted with a curve as vehement as
the curl of a Malay cutlass. The face
and neck were rough and covered with
reddish hair, the eye light in color ani
mated, but, though restless and bonnding
like a ball from one object to another,
neither piercing nor brilliant s the mouth
well closed but common ; the ears large :
the hantk and feet long and thin : 1 the gait
a little rolling, but firm and active. In
dress and manner, there was not the
slightest trace of pretension. He spoke -
rapidly, and generally with an inquisitive
smile. To this ensemble I must add a hat
which was the reverse of dignified or dis
tinguished—a simple felt again, with a
round crown and drooping brim, and you
have as fair a description of Gen. Sher
man’s externals as I can pen.
Seating himself on a slick of cord wood
hard by the fence, he drew a bit of pencil
from his pocket, and.’ spreading a piece of
note paper on his knee, he wrote with
great rapidity. Long columns of troops
lined the road a few yards in his front,
aud. beyond the road, massed in a series ■!
ot spreading green fields, a whole division
of infantry was waiting to take up the line
of march, the blue ranks clear cut against
the verdant background. Those who were
near their general looked at him curiously,
for in so vast an army the soldier sees his
commander-in-chief but seldom. Page
after page was fillet! by the General’s nim
ble pencil and dispatched.
. For a half hour I watched him, and,
though I looked for and expected to find
them, no sj'mptoms could 1 detect that the
mind of the great leader was taxed by the
infinite cares of a terribly hazardous mili
tary coup de main. Apparently, it did not
lie upon his mind the weight of a feather.
A mail arrived. He tore open the papers
and glanced over them hastily, then chat
ted with some general officers near him,
then rode off with characteristic sudden
ness, but with fresh and smiling counte
nance, filing down the road beside many
thousand men, whose lives were in his
keeping.
&•“ Pete, what am lub ?” asked a sa
ble youth of bis companion, a perfect
African Plato.
" And you don’t know' nuffin’ ’bout
him?”
“ No, uncle Pete.”
“ Why, your education is - dreadfully
imperfect. Don’t you feel him in your
bussum, to be sure 7 ”
The other inserted his hand beneath
his waist-coat. “ No, I don’t uncle-
Pete.”
11 Ignorant nigger! It am a strong
pashum which rends de soul so severely
dat even time itself can’t heal it”
“ Den, uncle Pete, I know who be in
lab.”
“ Who am it V'
“ Dis ole boot of mine. Its soul am
rent so sewerty, dat Jphnsing, de adder,
utterly refused to mend him ; and he say
dat he is so bad dat de debble hisself
could’nt heel ’im.’’
countryman passing along one of
the streets of Baltimore with bis wagon a
few days since, when one of his wheels
came off, and he discovered that' a linch
pin was gone.
. After searching lor it some time, he
offered to the boys who congregated a
shilling to find it. They.then Joined in
the search, and in a few minutes one of
them brought him what he supposed to be
the pin. Having adjusted the wheel, he
started off but bad not gone more titan
half a square before a wheel on the other
side came off, when he discovered that the
young rascals had stolen the pin from one
of the other wheels to obtain the reward.
lf you wish to be a favorite with
the girls, generally, attend to their wants,
that is, give them rides, candy and
raisins ; talk and laugh about love afiaire •,
and keep on the off side, that is, don’t
commit yourself to any one in pat tieular.
and you will be lionized to your heart's
content till you become an old bachelor.—
The mote flippant and nonscncical a young
man is in the company of the girls,'the
better will bo succeed. , They prefer fools
to wise men, ,
Ail hail 1 thou season of'-the sear
and yellow lent :
f^?rn
-p --- *•
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, NO, 31
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