!& WILLIAMS. i a# IM3 1 to ware. Sdc. inviiiK taken -charge of the Hardware nli Tin Mn>|. reccullv under the charge .ijn Virginia street. opposite Kessler’s rtW loWwl largely If He ir «ock are non t iioythifcg in the liar..war. and Cutlery niisaws. Axes. Angers* ABae», Chi«l». nJnmf’T.-. Pltiii's. Hifigen, Lwk?, Luichw, j'ork*. {?p<» , .'n’ 4 . £c.» &c., all of which rto’ost reasonhM« lemis. »iauythincr in list JlarTtj){ily.ai;o will make U) Of i-Uc**. H*‘ i-mvin-iiij ‘.*l»ewhfr*. wUich will .1. lie ■ U- ?t-ok Ls> {}{»()!.)> n( vv.:; v fecripnou. '.vinTj.K WKAiI am> MiN'i:.' - suoh> AND iW*X>' B»k»T8 AM* iIIOES. ■ : ' VJIVS It \LF HOSE '.VO iL ti^SE \J. Ml K'- \M> L'NiiLEACUEH MUSLIN. •>HAMS and HEAVY DRILLINGS. 11-cI.mJ iij.,.u.rh Sit J«.£.«‘<'sil.76 ILT (ttl .00 -.7outo.i'O . UTs. Very ruga:. Rio C'ifi-.;,-, ?yi-uj'-\ At*.* ,vit U usually m Dry i*».!?■ " - ''?ji-;i *>»■>•.t. J A. iSI’RANIvLK ' ktf.. Y DYE COLORS h] Oct‘ji>';r UR’i. 180: L>irrv LyyM L'.V'-’i JAri-y. J/iVnv;;!, l*ih: . ,1 ; (roti-. £h:nvl‘. ScariV •>??'. - H r T .- ;<=. H iTii. r<‘ath^ra, IV.. >l> ;i or, CiiiMrvu’.- ‘i'.fif r.i \V. l4 r:r:._' NG OF )>■> FEi; CENT, “gjg nc.t!:v wnuld nth \ ;-rc a.' :h;n]cw cun he C--,- i- jfjiicj-; ;Uitl Direction'. .j\> w;:'i ; ri- a.';d n;,n. ii- id- <>f v.-ick j'*ckajf>‘. ■!: i:i !.»■ ■ iiini plviv,: a perfect t- fjv. ; ; »rer othr ).'!;iclms-- ilvwe & Stc* >v!st by mail oif '.■li'mitl'.' r )M;I ■v^iDsT ■ulA M.ijmo-Gtir-.d 1 y IHWE & SThVIfNS. li'-ii iJE ur'KAT. Boston. >r-isy ''■iil'j ahu •; ■ g- rovES, ; SHKKT-1 i.u> W a UK. Jr'.Ui'l<'rNKr> WOULD UK- Ity-tb e -iL Ir 1 o t>; ■ -r. [ at Th*- incc*. A ‘rz i ‘ -apply vrlii uiwsy* b« KT-JJiOX WAKE, in great. variety. sG- & SPOUTING ich*-.! a r<--m lo bl» -‘ill k 01'Li) KLSPKCT-j^ » keep* constantly on hand h ). filing, l x ,'.Tlnr, u nsi h h»- wiH ►o-jJ at low price*. *.r culiunry purp'j* 4 /* — J'ijif.s i/r, thv' r ght of «n**; iis BJuir count> ur> .SAUSAGE STUFFEII. . only to to seun t-u W apprecia. •» x*>eti tyevfry farmer, butcher or those : Into. pxhl to patting ap SPOUTING ’ "nfrr. .Spouting painted and Iput up tumjH. fapril t-J. y : : it association, . V.- PfIIJiAI>F.LP:iIA, v A. ■ rvon*, fci-iiiinal,’Urinary and Sexual reliable treatment—in Kcj>orw of tho lATlON—sent by mail in pvalcd letf-r charge Albino. Dr. JL \SKILLIK «rd Awjociatirm. 'Xo. 2 St>urli St., -» . [dan. fANT GOOD COFFEE, best of Chocolate. Svrupi* nnd Sugarp. ‘ FiUTCII^VS. LACKERS! A fresh sup elknutt* crackers ju*t received and for FJUTCHEY’S CREAM CHEESE AT FUITCUET’S. L&a SAKPE'WNT. AND In IN. f.mnd a MITOHMAITS. •S NEW .-STOKE, corner u! Virginia Ft«. • IDES OF PANTALOONS LiCGHMAK’I jfßU¥ * DERN, VL. 9 ’HE ALTOONA TRIBUNE. „„„„ H.C. DBSN, ' -A«» ll tIK eipir.noa of tb. tun* I* “ r inu or ABTuniiaa: 1 iDMttton Sdo. S do. • 25 * Slid $ SO » r un»«r “• Jo ’ « ioo » 6V>»"» (»tow) 1 00 1 SO a 00 *• -ft! m'I""”"!... ISO 2 00 # 2 60 ]~r *«.£** ““** m c * no f tqo»r» *» “O' l to ** * month*. 1 jo»r. 1160 I 3 00 * 6 00 * s 60 * 00 T 00 - 400 e oo iooo t UM. “Oh ! Nellie, Nellie! Oh ! Nellie !” A tiny pair of white hands were raised depreoatingly, and a pair of large, violet eyes sought her face, bearing in their depths an expression of entreaty beautiful to behold ; but the proud face of Nellie Raymond turned away, perhaps to shut out that beautiful vision, and a low, tril ling laugh ran over her red lips. “Ob ! Nellie, how can you be so heart less ! How can you lead a man on to believe you love him, and then, when his heart is yours, with all its great, deep fount of manly love and tenderness, laugh >in his face, and bid him go from your presence—hopeless and despairing. 1 tell you, Nellie Raymond, you will some day have to account for the misery you have wrought.” “Do you think so ?” said Nellie, lightly. “Ah 1 well.” “But it will not be well,” said Alice May. “You will see it in a different light some day. I could not close my eyes one hour in peaceful slnmber were my life so weighed down with such evil deeds as yours.” “Evil deeds! Really, Alice, you are harsh,” exclaimed Nellie, a flush of mo mentary mortification and anger over spreading her white forehead. “Dear Nellie,” said her friend, “what is the use of calling things by other than their right names t If 1 seem severe, I only tell you the truth, and you know that I have ever been your best friend—candid and frank.” “Well, Allle, you might have a little more regard for one’s feelings,” said Nellie, “Have you any regard for the feelings of others, Nellie asked Alice. “There is a good book in which a sublime teacher aid, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ Now, how far do you carry out this rule T” “Oh! AUie, spare me for pity’s sake—- don’t preach to me now,” said Nellie.— “1 m not in a mood foe it.” ft 00 « 00 fk#Ut With » milder, wfter aaurt, u..—. (be ether deep above, Where allday the floating cloadlete Like freil barge* tilent more ; While afar where the hoiiion with the mountain* bright, Fleet* of arg tales seem anchored. lament of golden light. o’er rale and woodland gggtetb low the lilrery haie— Bathed the bird-note* from the border*. Withered dead the flowery taaxe; v And the purling rtreemlet murmur* Tenderly it* *ad refrain, A* though lulling wearied nature To her long, Numbering. Muting in the ru*Uing fore*t, With the dead leave* tcatlered round. From it* height anon one saileth Pa*t me with a tpirit »onnd ; Soft air* from the glen are wafted— From the verdant labelled pine Low myiteriotu light and tobbingt— WbUpeied voice* half divine. Indian Sommer ! how like magic Memorial clutter at the name! Memoriae of a race long blighted Of a wild yet princely fame; Fancy viewt the lowly wigwam— Dark-eyed maiden* of rare charm*— S«Me thiyftajin in grave conntel — Dinky warriors clad in arm* ! Driwming day* of waning autmnn, LovtliMt, oddest of (be yeti ! Mmoy * lesson, mystic poem, Reed ere from thy leaves so sere ! Though life’s Jens e’er soon is vanished, As glad masic's answering thrill Yet may sound its drear November, Light and beauty linger still. ftlttt THE COQUETTE’S PATE But AIW May was relentless. “You did not spare poor George Mor t®h> whom you so eruelly deceived,” she continued, “andthen drove him from you with despair in bis heart, and the burden of a hopeless life. The green sod of an Italian vale, covers the heart of one who loved you but too wildly, and whose re ward, after months of weary wandering, and a hopeless, pining life, which soon sank beneath its weight ot sorrow, is an exile’s Then there is another —a widow’s only son and pride —who frets his life away in a madhouse ; yes, a mad house, Nellie, to which your cruelty con signed him. Oh! Nellie Raymond, better a thousand times despoil your lace of its dangerous beauty than bear the load of sin it brings upop you, for it is fcarfui.” A slight quiver in the erect frame of the beautiful girl was the sole response, “Poor Walter Mayfield I” continued Alice, sadly ; “sometimes 1 pass the win dow of the' cell in which he is confined, and catch a glimpse of his haggard face, and he always smiles like a pleased child when he sees me. Then I. contrast him now with what he once was, and weep in spite of myself ewer the wreck of a strong, noble life. He used to be so pleasant and gay always, but he was strong and self reliant when anything occurred to call forth energy or- action. Oh ! he was a noble,, handsome man ; but now he is feeble and helpless—a hopeless maniac.— Poor fellow!’’ 12 00 u oo 8 00 10 00 20 oo 40 oo 1 76 U 00 as oo Nellie's face Wore an expression ot min gled grief, defiance and mortification ; but she remained silent for a few moments, watching the tears as they rolled slowly over Alice May’s cheeks. “And my own dear, only brother will be your next victim,” said Alice, after a pause, looking up sadly and mournfully. “Oh! Nellie, he is all I have—l am alone in the world, with him only to love me ! Spare him to me, for the love of mercy ! Nellie rose with a hotly flushed cheek and flashing eye ; - “Allie, how can you talk thus 1” she exclaimed. ‘‘But I tell you, Allie May, if art or beauty can bring your proud, cold brother to the feet of a he shall come to mine. He shall love me ” “And if he does, and you turn him from you, you will kjili him,” -said Alice.— “Once unbend ' his proud nature, and unlock the founts of tenderness in his heart, and then cast him from you, and see the consequences. Oh' Nellie Ray mond, there is sufficient on your soul already. Spare yourself, if you spare no other.” The last words were unheeded, for Nellie had swept from the room, and little Alice May bowed her head upon the sofa cushion and sobbed piteously. She had warned her brother repeatedly, but he seemed heedless, and with an aching heart the gentle little ’sister looked forth to a hopeless, desolate life for him who had ever been her all on earth. Several Weeks passed away, and little Alice May stood before the altar. The man she had chosen was noble, true and good, and for hec_ a bright path lay before her; but there was another to whom her eyes wandered uneasily, and who hovered incessantly round the gay butterfly form of the proud syren, Nellie Raymond, whose dark eyes flashed with triumph as the proud man bent his hand some, stately head with such devotion. Alice’s sweet lips quivered when she saw her brother bend down and whisper in Nellie’s ear, and heard the request that she would walk with him upon the lawn: and the two wandered off. The moon shone brightly, and Edward May, drawing - Nellie Raymond’s arm within his own, walked slowly down the broad gravel Walk, his face upturned towards the stars, and a smile of inex pressible happiness wreathing hik sweet mouth. “Nellie,” said Edward, and he spoke very low and softly; ‘■Nellie, I am very happy to-night—happier than 1 had ever hoped to be, and I want some one *o sym pathize with me in it. AUie has another now to occupy her attention. May I tell it to you V “Yes,” she whispered, softly. “None can share your happiness and sympathize with you more- freely than I. Tell me all.” For a moment he was silent, stretching out his hand to draw her down upon a seat beside him. After a while he spoke, half dreamily and very gently— , ‘ I once believed,” said he, “that I could never find a woman whom I could love fully and truly—with such a love as I must cherish for the woman whom I would call my wife ■; bu* I have found her, Nellie—(why do you tremble so?) a sweet, pure-faced little thing, fresh and fragrant us a budding rose, gentle as the summer breezes, and' gay and glad as the lark whose song she trills the whole day long. Tell me that you rejoice in my unhappi ness, Nellie —tell me that you will love my little wife that is to be—sweet Lilly Walton” Nellie’s lips were rigid and ashen, and she rose up, quivering like an aspen. “Oh 1I am ill,” she gasped. “Take me into the house.” Edward May rose hastily, and supported her with his arm, but she nearly repulsed him as she planted her foot firmly upon ALTOONA, PA., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1864. the gravel. She had learned to love the man with all the hidden passion and fiie of her strong nature ; and now he told her he had won another, and that other was only a poor but beautiful governess in a rich man's family. Oh lit was too much ! He knew Nellie Raymond’s weak ness, and he had punished her most fear fully, though he believed in bis heart that she was incapable of deep feeling. Alice went to Nellie in answer to her brother’s summons ; and, when every one was gone from the room, she held out her arms to Alice, white and stricken, with an anguished moan— ‘‘Oil! Allie, I gave him my whole heart, and he loves another!” Then she sank down, pale and lifeless, and it was many weeks ere Nellie Ray mond woke to life and consciousness Then she was a changed, repentant woman : but it was hard to foil the soft touch of a little hand, and see the light form of Edward's wife bending so pity ingly. Oh! the punishment of her evil deeds had come, and it was heavy and bitter. Nellie Raymond is Nellie Raymond still, but she has grown into a calm, dignified but lovely woman. She can sympathize with the suffering because she has suffered, and strives, by tenderness and love to others, to atone for the misery she wrought while yet in the heyday of her pride and selfish love for admiration. RAILWAY THOUGHTS “ Mowing must be a grievous business. Old daggers/by whose meadow I stood for an hour, groans loudly every stroke of the scythe. He made 412 strokes going the length of his meadow : that’s 412 groans. Quite penitential. He stopped to whet three times, wiped his face with his shirt sleeve nine times, and swore twice at the bumblebees. These facts I took down to report to the .‘County Statistical Associa tion,’ which preserves all things in its ar chives. I always notice things that way, as I go on, ” “ The 11 emulations of the ——- Kailway terrify me when 1 read them. You ‘ must not’ do that, and passengers are ‘warned,’ and ‘ informed,’and ‘notified,’ ‘cautioned,’ until I have concluded that the only place where a man can ride peaceably is on top of thecars. There no prohibitions meet a fellow.’’ “I laughed just now. A fellow came in who was built on the principle that length is what nature demands more than breadth. The ;cars being full, he had to stand up, and propped himself by the check-rope. He pulled it so hard that the cars stopped. He rushed toj the door to learn the cause. Started again. Like result. Such a row when the conductor found it out.” “ Confound that old lady before me. I had a tussel with her to kjecp her from openin'; the window. She | watched me, and the moment 1 went to sleep had it raised to the roof. What an earache! Could only revenue myself as I was leav ing the cars, by accidentally dropping my carpet-bag out of the rack on her head.— Such a squeal 1 “ Squint-eyed mother. Keeps oue eye on her sleeping cherub, the other on the beauties of Nature as we pass along.” “I was expatiating just now upon the glories and abundance of the harvest, and pointed to one immense field, golden with wheat sheaves, when that rascal Bri CO^ dampened my spirits by suggesting, ‘ Yes, a heap of good eating in that pile.’ No romance in Briggs." “ Child on the next seat so elaborately curled, should have to see it undressed to know the sex. Confound the woman who will curl her boy’s hair. What does she think he will come to !” “ Good expression—‘His heart’s as big a boulder.' Much better than the obso lete form, ‘ big's a piece of chalk.’ ’’ “ How indelicate to hang ladies’ under garments on clothes-lines in public. I always turn my eyes away, but not till I have critically examined them. They are highly objectionable, and I wonder it is allowed.” “Singular!” says Briggs. “There’s a man who weighs two hundred, and his wife not much less ; yet their baby will hardly pull down five pounds.’ Briggs wants me to explain it, but I tell him I can’t.” “ Did you ever observe there’s no ani mal will notice a railroad train passing by except a horse ? The cow, ■ hog ahd goose pay you no more attention than a boy in a lawyer's office.” “ You can tell when an experienced traveller enters the car. l|e chooses the side opposite the sun. Greenhorns don’t.” “ Why does that young woman deem it necessary, when she smiles, to show off the condition of her gums ? I cquld study dent istry in one hour’s conversation with her. Should only have to tell Iter 26 good jokes and I could then model every tooth in her head.” “ I sold Briggs yesterday, good. He asked me if I had anything new. I told him yes —a new pair of drawers. Took him down beautiful. He is always mak ing merchandise of me when he can, but 1 disposed, of him cheap that time.” [independent in everything.] “ Here are two rules for you, Fred,” said Giles Warner, looking up ihe paper he was reading, and addressing a younger brother, who was sitting by the stove, playing with a favorite dog. “Well, what are they * Let’s have them,” said Fred, suspending his sport with the dog. “ The first is: Never get vexed with anything you can’t help.” “ Are not these rules as applicate to you as to me?” inquired Fred, archly. “ No doubt of that,” replied Giles, good humoredly : “ hut then it is so much easier to hand over a piece of advice to another than to keep it for one’s own personal use. It is a kind of generosity that don’t re quire any self-denial.” Fred laughed. “But whaf say you to these rules?” continued Giles. “ flow would it work if vve adopt them ?” “ I think they take a pretty wide and clean sweep,” said Fred. “They don’t leave a fellow any chance at all to get vexed-” ‘‘That might be an objection to them,.’ said Giles, it any one was wiser, better or happier for getting vexed. I think tjiey are sensible rules. It is foolish to vex ourselves about things that can be helped, and’ it is useless to vex ourselves about what can’t be helped. Let us assist each other to remember these two simple rules. What say you’” “ I’ll agree to it,” said Fred, who was usually ready to agree with anything his brother proposed, if it was only proposed good-humoredly. “ Tliat’s too bad I” exclaimed Fred the next morning, while making preparations for school. “ What is the matter?” inquired Giles. “ I have broken ray slioe string, and it is vexatious. I’m in such a hurry.” “It is vexatious, no doubt,” replied Giles, “ but you mast not get vexed, for this is one of the things that can be help ed.. You can find a string in the left corner of the upper drawer in mother’s bureau.” “ But we shall be late, at school,” said Fred. “No weshan’t, said Giles. “We shall only have to walk a little faster. Besides, if you keep cool, you will find the string, and put it in much sooner than you can if become vexed and worried.” “ That’s true.” said Fred, as he started for the string, quite restored to good humor. Several opportunities occurred during the day for putting into practice the new ly adopted rules. The best was this : In the evening Giles broke the blade of his knife while whittling a hard piece of wood. “ It can’t be helped,” said Fred, “ so you must not get vexed about it.” ■ “It might have been helped,” said Giles, “ but I can do better than to fret about it. I can learn a lesson of care for the future, which may some day save a knife more valuable than this. The rules work well. Lei’s try them to morrow.” The next morning Fred devoted an hour before school to writing a composition. After he had written a half dozen lines, his mother called him off to do something for her. During his absence, his sister Lucy made use of his pen and ink to write her name in a school-book. In doing this she carelessly let fall a drop of ink on the page he was writing. Fred returned while she was busily employed in doing what she could to repair the mischief. “ Y'ou have made a great blot on my composition,”, he exclaimed, looking over her slioolder. “I am verry sorry. I did not mean to do it,” said Lucy.. . Fred was so vexed that he would have answered his sister very roughly if Giles had not interposed. “ Take care, Fred : you know the thing is done and can’t be helped.”- Fred tyied hard to suppress his vexation. , “I know it was an accident,” he said pleasantly, after a brief struggle with him self. Lucy left the room, and Fred sat down again to his composition. After a moment he looked up. “No great harm is done after all,” he said. “Two or three alterations are much needed, and if I write it over again 1 can make them.” “So much for a cool head and not get ting vexed,” said Giles, laughing. “Our rule works well.” At night Fred tore his, pants while climbing over a feni^e. “That’s too bad!” he said. 1 : ■ “ It can be helped,” raid Giles. “ They can be mended.” TWO BULBS, AND HOW THEY WORKED. ‘‘The way to help it is what troubles me,” said Fred- “ 1 don’t like to ask mother, she hag so much to do.” Giles proposed that he should get over his difficulty by asking Lucy to do the job for him, as her mother had taught her to mend very neatly. Fred wiie not at first disposed to adopt the measure. He knew that Lucy disliked mending very much, and was afraid she would be cross if asked to do it, but at last decided to run the risk of that. They found Lucy busily employ ed with a piece of embroidery, and quite absorbed with her work. Fred looked significantly at Giles when he concluded he had gone too far to retreat, and must make a bold push. “ I wish to ask a favor of you, Lucy, but I fear I have come in the wrong time,” said Fred. “What do you want 9 " said Lucy. “I am almost afraid to tell you. It’s too bad to ask you to, do what 1 knpw you dislike.” “You are a good while at getting to what is wanted,” said Lucy, laughing. “Come, out with it.” Fred thus encouraged, held up his foot and displayed the rent. “ Well, take them oil’, I will do my best,” said Lucy, cheerfully. “ You are a dear, good sister,” said Fred- “When I saw what you were about. I thought you would not be willing to do it.” “My uncommon amiability quite puz zles you, does it ?" said Lucy, laughing. “ I shall have to let you into the secret. To tell the truth, I have’bden’thinking all day what I could do for you in return for your not getting vexed with me for blot ting your composition. So now you have it.” “So much for our rules,” exclaimed Giles, triumphantly. “ They work tci a charm.” “ What rules ?” inquired Lucy. “ We must tell Lucy all about it, said Giles. They did tell her all about it, and the result was, that she agreed to join them in trying the new rules. — Merry's Museum. The Curiosity of French Restaurants. The Paris correspondent of the London Star writes as follows: Restaurants lor the working classes in Paris have, now-a days, recourse to every species of invent ion to attract attention. Last week, one just opened in the Faubourg Monturatrc prem isses a dinner of two courses tin I a desert to whoever writes, in a legible hand, the answer to a rebus offered every morning for solution by the damn de comptoir. An other, in the Faubourg St. Antoine, hit on a still more strange expedient. He ohose for his ensign a gigantic golden saus age, which he swung enticingly over the door of his restaurant, the words, “A la soucisse d’or,” in huge gold letters, blazing beneath. His salon is large, its white walls decorated by festoons of the tempting edi bles, so highly appreciated on the other side of the Rhine, and in every fiftieth sausage a five-franc piece in gold. His principle was that as his customers called for sau sages, they should be cut off in aTegular rotation from the string so artistieally ar ranged round the dining hall. The result may be better imagined than described. The eager anxiety depicted on the counte nance ot every oitvricr, as he nervously ex amined and finally ate his sausage, would have supplied a phrenologist with many good subjects,, for study. The expedient proved most remunerative to the proprie tor, but the quarrels that ensued were of so serious a nature that the police have interfered, and the master of the establish ment has received orders either to shut up his shop or to proceed on a less exciting system. You must constantly have remarked in the windows of restaurants of this class Ittumphal arches, columns, and every spe cies of architectural device, constructed with marvellous ingenuity of hundreds of snails piled up in moss. I have often been puzzled to know what was the ultimate destiny of these myriads of snails, whose shining shells evince an amount of care bestowed on their outer aspect which proves that they must be there for a pur pose. In France, you must remember, that snails did occupy public attention, an electric sympathy having been discovered to exist between the mail and female snail, which suggested to some enthusiastic savant the idea that the expense of electric wires might thereby be saved. At this period of their history their name in French, which from the days of the Pharamonds had been tamacon, was changed to escargot, which patronymic they retain. The race, however, sank into oblivion, oand one was only reminded of its merits by apotheca ries, advertisements announcing the must delicious syrups, lozengers, &c.. made of snails, and warranted to cure every cold and cough that ever was caught. Yester day, however, messieurs les escargots occu pied the attention of the Police Court. Snails, it appears, are eaten at taverns and public houses, not in hundreds or in thous ands, but in myriads, and snail gourmets assert —I shall not dispute with them— that they possess a delicacy of flavor which exceeds that of oysters. Soil. A shop in St. Penis was let a few months ago to a milkman, who underlet it to a certain Lancray. Extraordinary sounds, as of rattling chains, were heard at dead of the night emanating from the back prem ises, and —faugh!—a vapor, fetid and sickening, arose in black fumes, penetrat ing the closed and curtained windows of sleeping neighbors. What could it be? Evidently the smoke came from Lan ckay’s yard. What dark trade he did ply? The police were applied to, and the milk man proceeded against as having underlet i his shop to so mysterious anS awful a per EDITORS AND IMIOPREETOHS. sonago as his tenant proved. Laxcrat stated that he was a wholesale snail mer chant : that lie employed agents who bought up snails in different parts of France, but the most esteemed came from Burgundy, and to prepare the snails for the Paris market tiie process of cleaning must first take place. This he was in the habit of doing over night, by putting several thous ands into huge tubs of water, and then stirring them with iron forks, whit'n caus ed the rattling sound so terrifying to Mr Laxckay’s nervous neighbors; and that tho next process was that of boiling, which unfortunately, resulted in the rancid smoko so offensive to their olfactory organs. Major White’s Experience in, Richmond. Major White, formerly State Senator of Pennsylvania, who was recent!}'releas ed from Richmond after an imprisonment of fourteen months, spyko at a Union meeting in Philadelphia the other night, fie said : % " When the Christian and Sanitary- Commisums (God bless them) sent us boxes our condition was improved. But,after a time tiiey looked upon the contents of our boxes with anxious eyes, and whether they gobbled them or not future history will determine. .The speaker on Christmas day felt almost happy in the thought of hearing from and sending home. He had been urged to speak for-his brethern in misfortune, and ask for the privilotlge. The well known tyrant, Turner, comman der of the prison, informed the speaker, that he was to go direct to Salisbury, by order of Gen. Winder, who, ;\t Anderson ville, last July, caused one thousand dead soldiers to be carried out of the stockade. By his order the speaker was taken to Salisbury, where the Baltimore Plugs took charge of him. He had given his blank ets ami other - things to his fellow prison ers This was Christmas day, and as be went up the streets of -Richmond the Plug Uglies cheered him with the assurance tliat he would never be exchanged. That did'nt help him along very much. “ There are no happy scones in Rich mond. There are no smiles of children. There are no prosperous business house?. Everything seemed to pressago the doom that awaits it. Gotkgrant that that doom may soon come. [Cheers ] He arrived at Salisbury. He was put in a cold room stripped and searched- He still had a few burrowed greenbacks, and had put them in his hoots. He managed to save them. They,had scrutinize! all his family letters and laid them on the table. He managed to slip the greenbacks under the letters, and afterwards restored all to Lis pockets. In the room above him lay Gen Corcpran. He was said to be well treated, but not °o the speaker. They put him in an eight feet dungeon. The guard was forbidden to speak to him or allow anybody else to do so. There was no light in the cell. A piece ot iron-clad corn bread and a bone of meat were placed upon the floor, with out plate, for his first day’s food. ‘•There was no charge against him. ex- cept that he was a Union Senator of Penn sylvanra. Though entitled to the treat ment of a prisoner of war, he was selected from all his companions, and thus treated. He was kept there for three weeks, and afterwards in an old smoke-house, used as a dead house, for the balance of the win ter. It is the policy of the rebel officers to wear out the lives of those Union pris oners to whom they lake a prejudice. However it had'taken twelve men to guard him, and during the winter he had found that among them there was Union senti ment. They were North Carolinians, and often when their officers were sleeping he would discuss with them Union sentiment. And ho was sure that a large ,'portion of the North Carolina troops, instead of fight ing for Jefferson Davis, would be thrice glad to fight for the stars and stripes.” Useful and Philosophical. —A new and beautiful method of lighting gas with out the use of a match has been introduced by Cornelius & Daker in an improvement called an electric bracket. It is.a purely . scientific invention, and useful as it is scientific. It is a neat and elegant fixture, consisting of a brass cup, lined with silk, a loosely-fitting India-rubber stopper, and ; an insulated copper wire coil, with a platinum point, directly over the burner. Within the stopper is placed a small piece of tin foil, to Hold or store for use the electricity generated by the friction of the India rubber stopper upon the silk lining of the cup. While the cup is closed there is a complete electric current maintained,, but when the gas is to be lighted the cup is lifted, the electric current is broken, and the electricity passes down the coil of I wire to the burner. At the same moment | the gas is turned on, and is instantly | lighted. It is so beautiful and simple a ■ mode of lighting, and so sure—lot'the j damp weather, does not affect it—besides | being s. entirely safe that it will un? ; doubtodly supersede the more dangerous i methods of lighting gas by means 6f tapers ' and matches. Don' talinelookqueerwithoutbeinggptced? */ NO. 32