Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, June 13, 1861, Image 1

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VOL. 6.
13, 1861.
No. 22.
Terms of Publication.
. TERMS :—$1,50 cts. if paid within three months
2,00 if dlayed six months, and $2.50 if not paid
within the year, These terms will be rigidly ad-
rod to.
ADVERTISEMENTS and Business Notices insert
ed at the usual rates, and every deseription of
EXECUTED iu the neatest manner, at the lowest
prices, and with the utmost despatch. Having
purchased a large collection of type, we are pre-
pared to satisfy tho orders of our friends.
‘©fflee in the Arcade, second floor.
west of the
. Cffice, on the Diamond, one door
Post Offico.
Office formally occupied by the Hon. James Burn-
1s now prepared to wait upon all who may desire
his professional services. :
Rooms at his residence on Spring street.
Taken daily (except Sundays) from 8 Ax. to bru
loon, in the Arcade Building, |
In his splend
Bellefonte Penn’a.
Office on High Street (old-ofice.) Will attend to
professional calls as heretofore, and respectfully
offers his services to his friends and the public.
Will attend to pro al calls as heretofore, he
espectfully offers his services to his friends and
the public. Offico next door to his residence on
Bpring gtreet. 58-tf.
Oct 28-5¢
OFFICE—The one formerly occupied by Judge
1861--Vol. 6 : No. 6. ‘
Office in Reynolds’ Arcade on the Diamond.
. Ira C. Mitchell has associated C. T. Alexander
with him in the practice of law, and they will
give prompt attention to all business entrusted to }«
them in Centre, Mifflin, Clinton and Clearfield
. Bills of exchange and Notes discounted. Col-
Yeotions made and proceeds mptly remitted. —
Interest paid on special depe . Exchangein the
eastern cities constantly onh for sale. Depos-
148 receivea
B. C. HUMES. : J. T. HALE.
Deposits Received—DBills of Iixchange and Notes
Discounted—Interest Paid on Special Deposits—
‘Collections Made, and Proceeds Remitted Prompt-
y—Exchange on the East constently on hand-
‘Will practice his profession in the several Courts
of Centre County, All business intrusted to him
will be faithfully attended to. Particular attention
peid to collections, and all monies promptly re-
mitted. Can be consulted in the German as well
a8 in the English language.
Office on Highst., formerly occupied by Judge
Burnside and D. C. Boal, ksq.
Will attend promptly to all business entrusted to
their care. Office in the building formerly occu
pied by Hon. Jas. T. Hale.
Messrs Hane & Hoy will attend to my business
during my absence in Congress, and will be as
sisted by me in the trial of all causes entrusted to
em. Javes T. Hare.
December 15, 1859.
Drugs, Medicines, Perfumery, Paints, Oils, Var.
nishes, Dye-Stuff, Toilet Soaps, Brushes, Hair and
Tooth Brushes, Fancy and Toilet Articles, Trussels
and Shoulder Braces. Garden Sceds.
Cusbomers will find myst ock complete and fresh,
and all sold at moderate prices.
§3F Farmers and Physicians
are nvited to examine my etogk.
A. 0. FURST,
Wik practice in the several Courts of
Centre and Clinton counties. All legal
1 usiness entrusted to Lis care will receive prompt
OFFICE—On the North-west corner of the Di-
March 28, 1861. —1y-
606 & 608 Market Street, above sixth,
@. W. HINKLE, Proprietor.
Tanys :—$1 25 pER PAY. y Proprietor
HAUPT, Jr. & CO..
om the country
successors to
NJe J.D. Harrls & Co., manufacturers of Hun-
sicker’s Clover Hulter, Threshing Machines, Rich's
Patent Iron Beam, Wortz & § Hill Plow, Cul-
tivators, Stoves of various kinds, Corn Shellers,
Thimble Boxes, Durke & Rose Water W heels, Iron
Fencing of any sige and weight made and fitted
p to order, Sin Qasivgs for Rolling Mills and
urnaces, work invaria warranted as recem-
te y ted as recem
Bellefonte, April 20, 1860.
| seemed to scorn precedence.
elect Pocky.
An old and crippled veteran to the War Depart-
ment came ; Yah
He cought the Chief who led him on many a
field of fame— A
The Chief who shouted Forward!” where'er
his banner rose,
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying
«Have you forgotten, General,” the battered sol-
dier cried, .
“The days of oighteen hundred twelve, when I
was at your side ?
Have you forgotten Johnson, who fought at Lun-
dy’s Lane ?
Tis true I’m old and pensioned, but I want to
fight again,”
¢ Have I forgotten,” said tho Chief, ‘my brave
old soldier? No!
And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it
tell you so;
But yon have done your share, my friend ; you're
crippled, old and gray,
And we have need of younger arms and fresher
blood to-day.”
‘ But, General,’ cried the veteran—a flush upon
; his brow—
‘ The very men who fought with us, they say, are
traitors now ;
They’ve torn the flag of Lundy's Lane—our old
red, white and blue —
And while a drop of blood is loft, I'll show that
drop is true.
‘I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a
good old gun,
To get the rango of traitors’ hoarts, and prick
them one by one;
Your Minnie rifles and such arms it aint worth
while to try;
I couldn’t get the hang o’ them, but I’ll keep my
powder dry!”
‘God bless you, “comrade I"! said the Chicf—
“God bless your loyal hoart!
But younger men are in tho field, and claim to
have their part ;
They'll plant our sacred banner in eachrebellious
And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to
pull it down!”
¢ But General !”—still persisting, the Weeping
veteran cried ;
‘I'm young enough tc follow, so long as you're
my guide:
And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that
at least can I;
So give the young ones place to fight, but me a
place to die!
¢If they should fire on Pickens, let the Colonel
in command
Put me upon the rampart, with the flag staff in
my hand,
No odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the
shells may fly,
I'11 hold the stars and stripes aloft, and hold them
till I die!
‘I’m ready, General, so let a post to me be giv-
Where Washington can soe me, as he looks from
highest Heaven,
And eay to Putnam at his side, or may be, Gener=
al Wayne,
There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at
Lundy’s Lane i
“And when the fight is hottest, before the trai-
tors fly—
When shell and ball are screeching, and burst-
ing in the sky— .
If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my
My soul would go to Washington’s and not to Ar-
nold’s place!”
J tiscellangous,
There has not been an evening since
Sumpter fell, so full of life and hope, so re-
dolent of the eager whispers of the waiting
crowd—as was last Thursday evening, The
town was murmurous with flying rumors—
all hopeful and promising. General Scott
was going to show his hand, and tho dan-
dies of the Seventh and the lambs of the
Fire Department were to have an opportuni-
ty to wear off the dust of a month’s idleness.
People talked cheerfully of Alexandria and
Arlington, and invented model campaigns
for the departing regiments, with all the
spirited ignorance and illogical enterprise
with which civilians essay warlike vaticina-
But on Friday morning the tone of feeling
and conversation was strangely changed.
With the earliest dawn a ghostly horror of
floating surmise clouded the town. The ru-
mor ran rapidly through the usual gamut of
shocked assertion ng reckless contradic-
tion, until doubt was hunted out from every
resting place, and we all knew that ““Ells-
worth was dead.”
When that was ascertained no one cared
to ask further questions. The details of the
assassination, the projected defenses, the
march of tho regiments —which at any other
time would havo furnished the most palata-
ble food to the jaded news-hunters at Wil-
lard’s—were unnoted and disregarded. It
seemed enough for one day that we had lost
the cheering presence of the prave young
colonel. Is seemed impertinent to speak of
other things.
A sudden gloom fell on the city. A hun-
dred banners slipped sadly to half-mast.
Men walked quietly through the streets, for-
getting their business. Soldiers talked low
and earnestly, with clenched hands.
Why was this 80? This public grief
Ile was not
an old and honored wartior, but o boy of
twenty-four, who had never seen a battle.
The praise of the people naturally follows
wealth ; but Ellsworth had no fortune but
his sword, and his aged parents live in the
quiet seglusion of a country village in New
York. It was not the murmer that rises
when a giant dies. This young hero was
only five feet six from spur to plume. Why
should tho people mourn for him?
No man ever possessed in a more eminent
degree the power of personal fascination.
That faculty, which when exercised upon
masses of men, ITalleck: styles the Art Na-
poleon—of winning, fettering, moving and
commanding the souls of thousands till they
move as one,” he enjoyed in a measure of
which, the warld will forever remain ignor-
ant, ¢ ererocited an influence, almost mes-
meric, upon bodies [of organized individuals
with whom he was brought in contact.
have scen him enter an armory where a
score of awkward youths were going sleepi-
ly through their manual, and his first order,
sharply and crisply given, would open eve-
ry eyo.and straighten every spine, No mat-
ter how severe the drill, his men never
thought of fatigue. is own indomitable
spirit sustained them all.
Besides that, his personale was very pre-
possessing. There was something cheery
and hopeful about the flash of his white
teeth when he smiled, his face was always
alert and intelligent, and the honest, sincere
good fellow Jooked serenély out of his hand-
some eyes. IIis heavy black curls never
looked affected or vain. They set off admir-
ably the firm and statuesque pose of the
head. And his dress was always in keep-
ing with the man we knew.
Add to this his youth and his fame, his
patriotism which no rebuffs could daunt, his
energy, which people began to recognize,
the work he had done, and the work he was
expected to do, and you have some idea of
the reasons that made people deplore a vic-
tory that his sacrilice made a thousand
times worse than a defeat. :
And the people for once are right. You
shall not find between the seas a man who
can in all things take his place. In the
hearts of his friends, and in the ranks of his
country’s defenders, he has left a void which
is not to filled. . :
His life presents few salient points of ro-
mance or interest. Ile was at a very carly
age thrown upon his own resources by the
financial reverses of his father, (of whom in
his stricken age let a generous republic be
not unmindful,) 4nd his whole career from
boyhood to his death is a touching drama of
struggle with circumstance, always strenu-
ous and severe, but always self-reliant and
stouthearted. Very dark would have been
the passage through some scenes of his life
in Chicago, had it not Leen lit with a heal
thy good humor that nothing could repress,
an euergy, that misfortune was powerless to
daunt, and a stainless honor that freed him
from even the temptation to wrong. In
spite of mean lodgings and scanty fare the
great soul kept a firm foot-hold in the mus-
cular body, and outside of tho daily toil and
privation, the young student reveled in an
ideal realm, not of selfish indulgence or sor-
did fame, but of use and beneficence to his
fellow men. This aim and purpose did not
exhaust itself in dreams. He worked stead-
ily towards its realization.
The first fruit of his efforts was the per-
fection in training of the Chicago Zouaves.
The vast flutter of interest and gale of ap-
plause that their challenge trip occasioned,
though the great military sensation of the
age, was utterly unworthy of the subject, as
it failed to Jistinguish the real spirit of Ells-
worth’s work. While it dwelt on the agili-
ty and unerring precision with which these
scarlet machines performed their gymnastic
lescon, they left out of view the entire dis-
cipline—the identification of spirit of com-
mander and men—the animus that, derived
from their idolized leader, inspired these
slight young men and annihilated their sus-
ceptibihty to bunger and fatigue. Was it
not also a great triumph for this Water-
drinking Colonel to abolish by the force of
his own iron will, a practice against which
the anti-alcoholic forces, under a thousand
aliases, have warred for years in vain ?
¥ know the trial excursion of the Zouave
Cadets was not undertaken from any mot-
ives of display, but by the force of contrast,
to demonstrate the fact in a way that peo-
ple could understand, that our ordinary
militia is a very unwieldy and useless affair,
and cannot be made serviceable except by a
vast expenditure and endless annoyance and
delay. And although in the last six weeks
the people have wonderfully seconded the
efforts of the government, a candid review
of their operations, from the proclamation
until to-day, will convince any one of the
necessity of a thorough reconstruction of the
militia laws of most of the States, and such
a re-organization of the citizen soldiery as
will nourish a more decided military spirit,
3 establish a higher standard of discip-
To a great extent, that trip was a great
success. In its wake sprang up hundreds
of new military companies like phosphores-
cent sparks in the track of a ship. Several
States reconstructed their militia laws, and
a general military revival was perceptible
throughout the land. It had an effect; also,
in disseminating some sensible ideas in re-
gard to uniform. Inside of the flashy ab-
surdities of crimson and gold, for which it
was responsible, there was a germ of sound
judgment in the easy, careless flow of the
Zouave costume, which hardly touches the
Ellsworth went back to Chicago, for his
brief hour the most talked-of man in the
country. He quietly organized a skeleton
regiment upon a plan of his own, and made
his best men the officers of it. Ile offered
this to the Governor of Illinois and to the
President, “for any service consistent with
honor.” This was the first offer of an or-
ganized force to sustain the Constitution
and the laws. With soldierly instinct he
foresaw the inevitable struggle, and predict-
ed the very manner of its beginning:
Leaving Chicago, he came to Springfield
in the midst of the most cxciting campaign
known to political history. It was not pos-
sible for Ellsworth to be neutral in anything,
or idle while others were working.” With
the whole energy of his nature he entered
into the struggle. Ile became one of the
[ost popular speakers known to the school
houses and barns of Central Tllinois. The
magnificent volume of his voies, which I
never heard surpassed, the unfailing flow of
bis hearty humor, and the deep earnestness
of conviction that lived in his looks and his
tones, were the qualities that struck the
fancy of the Westesn crowd. Besides, it
37s, vory novel and delightful to see a sold-
ier. who could talk. gt rig
An administration in harmony with him
‘was elected, and Ellsworth hoped to be able
to put into. practical operation those plans
which had formed the goal of all his former
efforts. My space will not permit an analy-
sis of these plans. They looked to an en-
tire reorganization of the militia of the Unj-
ted States. They had the approval of some
of the hest military minds on the continent.
With the hope of being placed in a position
1 | where hecould be of service in this way, he
accepted Mr. Liticoln’s invitation and joined
the Presidential traveling party. Ie soon
heeame indispensable. No onc could man-
age like him the assemblages of turbulent
loyalty that crowded and jostled at every
station, | :
At Washington ho was placed in 2 false
osition. Ife never wished office for its
1onor or its profit, but you never can get of-
fice seekers or office dispensers to believe
any such story. Iis delicate sense of honor
felt a stain like a wound, and the amiadle
gentlemen of the press never can withhold
the sly stab when they think a man is fall-
These weeks were the least pleasant of
Ellsworth’s life. They were brightened
only by the society of those he trusted most,
and by the unvarying friendship and copfi-
dence of the President and his family, Dut
Sumpter fell, and the gale of aroused pat-
riotism, sweeping down from the North,
scattered away the cobwebs of political chi-
cane, and edicated the true men of the time.
When war was in the land, there was no
more dancing attendance for a man who
knew that God had made him a soldier.
There was only a moment of hesitation—it
was whether Chicago or New York should
have the glory of his regiment. ITis friends
remembered that malignant jealousy that
hampered what he rE they would have
done for the State of Illinois last winter,
and feared a repetition of the scene. New
York was Catholic and metropolitan. Ie
went to New York.
The rest transcends memoir and pasics
i#1t¢ the sphere of history.
Ilow he conceived the novel idea of the
fire brigade—how he formed the most mus-
cular regiment that the annals of warfare
have mentioned—how, by the mere force of
intellect, hie controlled the fierce turbulence
of these untameablo nien—how he armed
them and brought them to the Capital—
how he made soldiers of them, turning the
stern Gothic spirit of fight into well-ordered
channels—how he captured the first rebel
town—and bow Lc made the splendid morn-
ing memorable to all time by his déath—
shall sll be told when some future historian
writes the story of this new crusade of free-
is loss at this time cannot be too deeply
deplored. He had every requisite for great
military success; he had a wonderful mem-
ory and command of details—immense in-
dustry and capability of enormous mental
and bodily labor, great coolness of mind, an
original and inventive brain, and more than
all, the power of grappling to his heart
with hooks of steel the affections of every
man with whom he came in contact.
Then there is 4 smaller circle who mourn
him in tears as the truest, tenderest, most
loyal-hearted man that ever died.
This is the head-roll of all his virtues. I
do not remember but two faults that he had,
and they were magnificent ones. Io was
too generous and too brave.
The one subjected him to the cruel slan-
ders from sordid men, and the other
caused the dictates which has plunged a peo-
ple into mourning.
All classes seem to regard his death as a
personal aflliction. The family of the Pres-
ident went down to the Navy Yard on Fri-
day and gazed long and tearfully on the
still face which had so often brought sun-
shine with it, into the Executive Mansion.
Five minutes afterwards Ned Bantline came
in and quietly lay a dewy wreath of laurel
over the brave dead heart. A tear came to
his hard eyes as he passed out and said toa
Zouave standing gloomily by the door,
“We'll mourn him to-day, boys, and avenge
him to-morrow,”
As for the Zouaves, all other emotions
are swallowed up in the manly grief that
hallows revenge into religion. They have
surprised every oue by their silence. Bit-
ter as is their rage and despair, they re-
member that they are Ellsworth’s men, and
are too zoldierly to he lawless. But they
have sworn, with a grim earnestness that
never trifles, to have a life for every hair of
the dead Colonel’s head. But even that
will not repay.
The ripples of private grief are never
taken into the account of the grand source
of a public sorrow, but it is certain that no
man could have died more deeply lamented
than the young hero who is moving to-day
in solemn grandeur toward the crushed
hearts that sadly await him in the North.
Scattered over the land, severed by wide
leagues of mountain and prairie, the few
who knew him well are mourning in the
utter abandon of irremediable anguish, as
if all the earth had for them of bright or
beautiful or brave, went out with his last
breath. Yet they are giving thanks to God
that they were permitted to know him, and
vowing to keep ever green in their souls
the memory of him who always seemed to
his friends not like the people one meets
every day, but like a a id typo of the
courtesy and valor that dignified the leal-
hearted cavaliers of the great days that are
One last word. May ho rest forever in
peace, under the Northern violets and the
Northern snows. May his example sink
into the heart of Northern youth, and blos-
gon into deeds ofjvalor and honor. His daunt-
less and stainless life has rénewed the bright
possibilities of the antique chivalry, and in
his death we may give him unblamed the
grand cognizance of which the world has
long been unworthy.—
“Le chevalier sans peur ot sana reproche.”
I had a narrer escape from the sonny
South. “The swings and arrers of outrajus
fortin,” alluded to by Hamlick, warp’t no-
thin in comparison to my troubles. ™ came
pesky near swearin some profane oaths
more’n onct, butT hope I didn’t do it, for
I’ve promist she whose name shall be name-
less (except that her initials is Betsey J.)
that I'll jine the Meetin House at Baldins-
Yillebest 85 soon a5, X ean scrape Wioney
enuff together so ag I can ’ford to be pius in
good stile, like my ‘Welthy naburs. But if
I’m confisticated agin I'm afraid I shall con-
tinner in my present benited state for sum
time. ta .
1 figgered conspicyusly in many thrilling
sgenes in my, tower Troin Montgomery to my
humsted, and on several occasions I thought
“the grate conic paper” wouldn't never be
inriched no more with my lubrications. Ar-
ter bidden adoo to Jefferson D. I started for
the depot. I saw a nigger sittin on a fence
a playin on a banjo. «My Afrikin Brother,”
sed 1, cotin froma Track I onct red, ““ you
belong 0 a very intetestin race. Your mas-
ters is goin to war excloosively on your ac-
“Yees boss,” he replied, ‘an I wish em
honorable graves !”’ ‘and he went on playin
the banjo, larfin all over and openin his
mouth wide enuff to drive in an oid fashion-
ed 2 wheeled chaise.
The train ‘of cars in which 1 was to trust
ny wallerable life was the scaliest, rickyt-
iest lookin lot of consarng that I ever saw
on wheels afore. ¢¢ What time does this
stirring of second hand coffins leave ? I in-
quired of the depot master.
He sed direckly, and I went in & sot
down. I hadn’t more’n fairly squatted afore
a dark lookin man with a swinister expres
sion onto his countenance entered the cars,
‘and lookin very sharp at me, he axed what
was My principles.
, ‘““Secesh!” I answered. “I'm a Disso-
lator. Tm in favor of Jeff. Davis, Boure-
gard, Pickens, Capt Kidd, Bléobeard, Munro
Edards, the devil, Mra. Cunningham ‘and all
the rest of ’em.” ;
“You're in favor ¢f the war 2”
“ Certingly. By all means. I'm in favor
of this war and also of the next war. I've
been in favor of -the next war for the last
sixteen yearg 1”
“War to the knife !” ged the man.
¢ Blud, Fargo, blud{” ged I, tho them
words isn’t origgernal with me. Them
words was rit by Shakspere,who is ded. His
Maatle fell onto the author of *¢ The Seven
Sisters,” who's going to hav a spring over-
coat made out of it. |
We got under way at larst, "an proceeded
on our journey at about the rate of speed
which is generally observed by properly
conducted funeral processions. A hansum
yung gal, with a red musketer bar on the
back part of her hed, and a sassy little btack
hat tipt over her forrerd, sot in che seat with
me. She wore a little Secesh flag pin’d onto
her hat, and she was a goin for to see her
troo love, who had jined the Southern army,
all so bold and gay. So sho told me. She
was chilly, and I offered her my blanket.
¢ Father livin #’ I axed.
¢# Yes, sin?’
‘ Got any uncles 7”
«A heap. Uncle Thomas is ded, tho."
« Peace to Uncle Thomas’ ashes, and suc-
cess to him! X will be your Uncle Thomas !
Lean on me, my pretty Secesher, and linger
in blissful repose !”’ She slept as seceorly
a5 in her own house, and didn’t disturb the
sollum stillness of the night with ‘ary a
At the first station a troop ef sojers en-
tered the cars and ingdired if ¢ Old Wax
Works’’ was on bered. That was, the dis-
respective stile in which they referred to
me. ‘“ Becawz if Old Wax Works 18 on
bored,” sez a man with a face like a double
breasted lobster, * we're going to hang Old
Wax Works !”
¢ My illustrious and patriotic Bumiers !’'
sez I, a gittin up and taken orf oy Shappoe,
“{f you allude to A. Ward, its my pleasin
dooty to inform you that he’s ded: e saw
the error of his ways at 15 minits past 2
yesterday, and stabbed hisself with a stuffed
sledstake, dyin in five beautiful tablees to
slow moosic! His Ia8t words was: ¢ My
perfesshernal career is over! I jerk no
more !’”’
«¢ And who be you?’
“I'm a stoodent in Senator Benjamin's
law offis. I'm goin up North to steal sum
spoons and other things for the Suthern Ar-
my. :
This was satisfactry, and the intossicated
troopers went orf. At the next station the
pretty little Secesher awoke and sed she
must git out there. I bid her a kind adoo
and giv her some pervisions. ‘‘Accept my
blegsin and this hunk of gingerbread !”’ sed
1. She thankt me muchly and tript galy
away. There's considerable human nater
in a man, and I’m afraid I shall allers giv
aid and comfort to the enemy if he comes to
the in the shape of a nice young gal.
At ae next station I didn’t get off so
casy: Iwas dragged ‘out of the éars and
rolled in the mud for several minits, for the
purpuss of © takin the conseet out of me,”
as a Secesher kindly stated.
I was let up finally, when a powerful large
Secesher came tip and embraced me, and to
show hé¢ had no hard feelings agin me, put
his nose into my mouth: I returned the
compliment by placing my stummick sud-
dinly agin his right foot, when he kindly
made a spittoon of his able-bodied face.—
Actooated by a desire to see whether the
Secesher had been vaxinnated, I then fast.
ened my teeth onto his left coat:Sleeve and
tore it to the shoulder. We then vilently
butted our heads together for a few miinits,
daneed around a little and sot down ina
mud puddle. We riz to our feet again &
by a suddint and adroit movement I placed
my left eye again the Secesher’s fist. We
then rushed nto each other’s arms, and fell
under 4 two horse wagon. I was very much
exhausted,, and didn’t cate about gittin up
again, but the man said he reconed I'd bet-
ter, 4nd I conclooded I would. He pulied
me up, but I Hadn't been on zy feet more
than two seconds afore the grotind flew up
aid hit me on the hed. The crowd sed it
was high old sport, but I couldn't ’zactly
see where the lafture come in. 1 riz and
we embraced agin. , We carezrod madly to
a steep bank, when I got the upper hand of
my antagonist and threw him into the ra-
veen. He fell about forty feet, strikinga
grindstore pretty hard. 1 understeod he
was injured. I haven't heard from tho
A man in a cockt hat cum up and sed he
felt ae tho a apology was doo me. There
was a mistake. The crowd had taken me
for another man! 1 told him not to men-
tion it, axed him if his wife and little ones
was 80s to be about, and got on bored the
train, which had stopped at that station «20
minits for refreshments,” I got all1 wantid.
It was the heartiest meal Ieveret. -. - :
I wag rid on a rale the next day, & bunch
of blazin firecrackers bein tied to my cote
tales. It was a fine spectycle in a dramatio
pint of view, but I didn’t ingoy it. 1 hag
other adventers of a startin kind, but why
Pcontinner ? Why lasserate the Public Boo-
zum with these hear things? Suflysit to
say 1 got across Masons & Dixon's lin
safe at last. I made tracks for my i
but she with whom I'm harsidsed for lif
failed to recognize, in the emashiatod bein
before her, the gushin youth of forty-six
summers who had left her only a few
months afore. But I went into the pantry,
and brought out a certain black bottle.—
Raisin .it to my lips, I sed * Hero's to you
old gall” I did it so natral that she knew-
ed me at once. * Those form! Them
voice! That natral stile of doin things !—
“Tis he!’ sho cried, and rushed into my
arms. It was too much fer her & she fell
into a swoon. I cum very near swounding
No more to-day from yours for the perpe-
tration of the Union, and the bringin of the
Goddess of Liberty out of her present bad
A letter from Washington says;—I am
living luxuriously, at present, on the top of
a very respectable fence & fair sumtuously
on three granite biscuit a day and a glass
of water weakened with brandy. A high
private in the twenty second Regiment has
promised to let me have one of his square
ocket handkerchiefs for a, sheet the first
rainy night, and I never go to bed on my
comfortable window brush without thinkin
how many poor creatures there arc jn thi
world who have {o sleep on hair mattresses
4nd feather bed? all their lives. Before the
great rush of fire Zouaves and the rest of the
menagerie commenced, I boarded exclusively
on a front stoop in Pennsylvania avenue and
used to slumber regardless of expense in a
well conducted ash box; but tho military
monopolize all such accomodations now, and
1 give way for the sake of my country.
I tell you, my boy, we're having high old
times here just now, and if they get any
higher I shan’t ba able to afford to stay.—
The city 1s “‘ in danger avery Qthes HO
and as a veteran in tha Pins ZuiwVCS remark-
ed, there seems to be enough danger lying
around loose on Arlington Heights to :nake
a very good blood and thunder fiction, in
numerous paves. If the vigilant and well
educated sentinels happen to see a nigger
on the upper side of the Polomae, they sing
out: ** Here they come!” and the whole
blessed army issnappirg caps in less thana
minute. Then all the reporters telegraph
to their papers in New York and Philadel
phia that « Jeff Davis is within two minutes
walk of the Capital, with a few millions of
men,’’ and all the Free States send six more
regiments apiece to crowd us a little moze.
i shan’t stand much more crowding, for my
fence is full now and there were six applica-
tions yesterday to rent an improved knot
hole. ~My landlord says that if more than
three chaps set up housekeeping on one post,
he’ll be obliged to raise the rent.
The greatest confidence in Gen. Scott, is
felt by all, and it would do you good to see
the gay old hero take the cath. He takes
it every meal, and the first thing when he
gets up in the morning.
Those Fire Zouaves arc fellows of awful
suction, I tell you. Just for greens, I asked
otto of them; yesterday what we cafe here
for! ¢ Hah!’ says he, shutting one eye,
«we come for to strike for your altars and
your fires—especially your fires.” General
Scott says that if he wanted to make these
chaps break through the army of the fos he'd
have a fiire-bell rung by some one on the
other side of the Rebels. He says that half
a million traitors could’nt keep the Fire Zou-
aves eut of that district five minutes. I be
lieve him, my boy!
ee Bm
PirsoN BrewyLow’'s DavGnrer.—A gen-
tleman just arrived in Chicago from Knox-
ville, Tenn., brings intelligence of affairs in
that city. He says that 2,500 Secession
troops are stationed there, for the express
purpose of over-atwing the Union men. Itis
a part of their business to engage in quarrels
in saloons, and in street fights, with all who
are not friendly to Secession. Two men
were last week shot for no other offence than
speaking words of loyality to the Federal
Government. The house of the celebrated,
bold-hearted, and out-spoken Parson Brown-
low, is the only one in Knoxville over which
the Stars and Stripes arc floating. A few
days ago, two armed Secessionists went at
si¥ o'clock in the morning, to haul down
the Stars and Stripes. Miss Brownlow, a
brilliant young lady of twenty-three, saw
them on the piazza, and stepted out and
demanded their business. They replied
that they had come to take down them
d——n Stars and Stripes.” She instantly
drew a revolver from her side and present:
ing it, said : Goon! - I’m good for one of
you, and I thin for both I” A
« By the looks of that gas eye she'll
shoot,” one remarked. ‘I think we'd bet-
tet not try it; we'll go back and get more
men,” said the other. ‘Go and get mora
men,” said the noble lady ; * get more men
and come and take it down, if you dare.’’=
They returned with a company of niilety
armed men, and demanded thal the flag
should be hauled down ; but oft discovering
that the house was filled with gallant men,
armed to the teeth, who would rather die
than see their country’s flag dishonored, the
Secssionists retired.
Orp Snarl says that love is a seniiinstioy
of diseases—an affeotion of the heart an
an inflamation of the brain.