je Democratic Aatchman.
VOL. 7.
BELLEFONTE, THURSDAY MORNING, JAN. 30 1862.
NO. 4.
ee
SWiscellangons.
{From the New York Mureury.]
A Reminiscence.
BY DAISY HOWARD.
+ Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Mr. —
is elected ! Ain't you glad, Daisy ? Good
for old Pennsylvania, I say. There will be
some chance now of getting to Washington
next winter—for father is sure to get an of
fice. 1 will have such ‘loves of bonnets’—
such shoals of fleecy, floating, evening dress-
es, and beaux.”
« What kind of beaus, Kitty # Trim-
mings for your dresses or righty beaux »
as we used to call Ned and Joe, when we
went to singing school at the little red school
house.”
« Hush ! not a word about the old school
house. We have forgotten that, dear—ig:
nored it—put it behind us. We were edu-
cated as Madame Flyaways, in the city of
, ete., etc., etc. But to answer your
question. dearie. Of course, I mean real
beaux, ‘hangers-on,’ ‘bon-ton’ exquisites.—
[s that it, Daisy ? But why don’t you hur-
rah 2 Ain‘t you glad ? or ain’t it your pol-
ities ?
“havn't any politics, Kit. [ guess,
though, I’m ‘conservative’—or ike onc half
the politicians, waiting to sec who comes out
victor ; and then I will be ‘thar.’ Tam re
ally glad, though, that Mr. ——— 1s elected,
simply because I know him and his, and
wish success to them.”
“Do you know him, dear? 13 he mar”
ried 2"
«Aye, Kit ; he's married.
out there, ma belle.”
+: Too bad—isn’t it 2 Oh, well! T'll go
to Washington and electrify the nation with
the sight of my wardrobe, and my impu-
dence. People will be saying : ¢ There 18
Miss Kitty Potter. How beautiful she 1s,
but what a tongues!” Is my nose very pug.
dear 2 or what is its style ?”’
« Its rather disposed to be a turn up, Kit,
bat if you rub it down three times a day,
and bandage it at night, I think it will im-
prove.” g
« How wise you are, dear ! But you will
visit me at Washington this winter. You
shall have the cunningest little room to
write in.”
«I think, my dear, you have forgotten
that superior picce of poetry—* counting
your chickens,’ etc.”
« Pgha !—you are so matter-of-fact. But
you did not tell me what Mr. —'s wife is
like. Is she pretty ?” :
« A real woman’s question. When I saw
her last, it was at a large evening entertain-
ment, at her own house. I thought—as I
saw her moving gracefully hither and thith
er, doing the honors—that she was the hand
gsomest woman I ever saw. Dark browed,
with checks and lips like crimson, and large,
shadowy, dreamy eyes. But Kit, have you
set the day for your wedding yet 2”
«No. [ did mean to be marmied ou
Thanksgiving day (because Ned is so fond
So you are
of pumpkin: pics, you know), but the t uth!
of itis, I'm not altogether sure what Ned's
politics are. He seems to be on the * fence,’
and that I despise.”
«0, Kit Potter—you will be the death of
me yet. 1 wish you would stay at home
mornings, and let me get some writing done.
You flash in here every morning without
even stopping to knock—bringing your pink
cheeks, and bright eyes, and an odor of fal
ling leaves, and pleasant out-door air—cre
ating in my heart a longing to go out, and
entirely routing my ideas. Its too bad ; af-
ter one has a'most blistered one’s forehead
trying to rub them up.”
¢ Clinch them, dear, between your fin«
gers; but Daisy, let me—just this once—
wipe that hateful pen, and close up this for-
lorn portfolio (I wish somebody would give
you a new one), and you sit down in this
great arm chair, and tell me more of the
party you attended at Mr. 's, years
ago 7 .
How could I refuse ? So, with the bright
head laid upon my knee, and the rich curls
floating over my dress, I began :
“There is little to tell, Kitty. The party
passed off as such things generally do. The
noble host and his gentle wife did all in their
power to make our evening pass pleasantly,
I remember the happy heart that beat under
my white bodice that evening—happy, and
free from care. The past only flecked here
and there with some swift passing sorrow—
the futuce full of glorious anticipations, and
glowing, hopeful dreams.” There was a sad
ending to our evening’s pleasure : for one of
our nuinber—a sweet, gentle girl—was tak
en ill, and left—throwing an unaccountable
gloom over us all. We lefi the party—as
folks generally do—tired enough, and could
scarcely keep our eyes open long enough to
-emove our trippings. I remember Cousin
Nan said —just before she entered the ‘Land
of Nod’=~*I do hope Annie will be better to-
morrow.” At day light we were wakened
by ths sweet voics of Annie D-—. Shel
was ill. and had come several blocks from
her own home to see the friend who had al-
ways been as a mother to her.”
+¢0 Aunt M——, T am sick anto death,—
What shall I do for relief 2°
« How quick Aunt M ’s fleet feet went
pattering round the room, trying to get
dresse i, while the suffering girl leaned her
head down 1n agony. Quickly she was got
home, and everything that human skill
could do, was done ; but in vain. God
wanted her. Death stood waiting. le laid
his icy hand upon the young girl’s brow,
and seaied forever the sweet lips lately so
full of life. What cared the Great Reaper,
that there was a brother that had on earth
but this only sister 2—that there were friends
who loved this orphan gi | *—that her trunk
stood ready packed for a visit to the South ?
«It threw a great gloom over us Kitty ;
and we felt keenly the mutability of earthly
things. One night full of happiness and
glad young life, robed for the banquet—the
next, robed for the grave, a sweet, pale
sleeper. One night she rod gayly among
young, happy hearts—the next, the slender
feet were laid side by side, in the narrow
confines of the coffin. I gazed long upon the
pale face of my friend, and then turned sadly
away. Inthe hall T met the stricken bro-
ther, pale and wretched. As he uttered my
name, Kitty, I longed to stop and comfort
him—but [ dared not trust myself to speik ;
my heart was full to overflowing. But why
grieve you, dearie, with this sad tale ?
“1 love to hear you talk—don’t mind my
tears. You used to be a good deal in B—
Did you not, Daisy ?’
* Yes, Kitty ; some of my happiest days
were spent there. I was always warmly
welcomed in my dear Cousin M——'s home.
and have stayed months at a time. Alas!
the va'ley sods rest heavily upon her dear
head. Young girls were written motherless,
and hundreds .f people, rich and poor, lost a
priceless frend. She was fleet of foot, Kit
‘ty, and was constantly running round doing
good to some one. She was wealthy, and
could ‘give unto the Lord I” T have seen
ber with a course negro servant's bleeding
foot 1n her white hands, binding it up as
tenderly as if it had been one of her own
children. Thousands of kind acts rise up
before me. But time presses, and I must
hurry on. Tremember the pleasant times
we used to have at the ‘Spring’—as my cou-
sin’s home was called--a happy, merry, be
vy of girls, who knew nothing of sorrow,
save its name. Some of us have drank
deeply, since, of that bitter cup ; and we are
separated far enough now.
“ Up on the hill top stood the academy —
where the boys and girls got most of their
‘Parning’—as our friend Obediah Smart says.
I remember the moss grown stile where we
used to congregate —it was close by the Ac-
ademy, and a right royal place for fun. Many
a sly lover's chat I have had on that old stile
close by the B—— Academy. You see we
had old fa-hioned names then, Kitty. There
were no pensionnats. 1 remember well
when our friends George P.. John M. James
D., and George I'., used to go there—and
studied so hard that they aimost grew gray,
and certainly grew hungry over it : for reg
ularly a white flag was surreptitiously hung
from the windo™, serving to intimate that
gingerhread and beer was wanting; and
when it could be smuggled over from town,
it was done, We were ali as thick as pick
pockets. Paired off in couples, sometimes,
we enacted Damon and Pythias over again
for a long time—but generally wound up
with a grand fall out, only for the pleasure
of making up again. Each one of our four
beaux has M. D. written to his name now.—
George P. has three or four little sun-beams
of children in hishome and a sweet, gentle
wife to help him part the few clouds that
overshadowed his pathway, and peep be-
yond at the blue sky. Dr. John M. has al-
80 obeyed the great command, and taken to
himself a help meet ; bat I hear the bach-
elors James D. and Geoige F. have foresworn
wedlock. There are two others who used
to congregate with us at the Spring, whose
names linger pleasantly in my memory—
those of J. W. and Jane H. The former is
an artist—has the wondrous power of tran-
scribing upon canvass the faces of our loved
ones. He left our party long ago and wan-
dered far over the blue sea to Europe, lin
gering long in glorious Italy, and brought
home the same cheerful spirit and happy-~
heartedness that of yore made him one of
the ‘select’ of our gatherings. ‘I'he land of
sunshine and of song could not tempt him
to wed one of her daughters. Italy, ren-
dered famous by 1ts gems of art, and its be
wildering beauty, and now rendered sacred
by the names of Garibaldi and Victor Eman-
uel. I have stood in his studio, and gazed
upon copies from the grand-master pieces of
the olden painters—whose rich coloring
seems as though a halo flung from sunset
clouds had glorified them. Oh, I wish I
possessed this wondrous talent, and could
give life and coloring to the glorious image
in my heart—transcribo the angel face, and
saphphire blue eyes, and golden curls that
haunt my sleeping snd mv waking hours.
One—the dearest of us all—the happiest,
merriest, ‘don’t care’ one of all. has taken
up the song of Zion, and gene to far away
India to labor among the heathen ; whilst 1
have learned to consider fallacy most of the
glorious dreams of the long ago ; have learnt,
at last, to meet coldly and fashionably the
dear friends whom I long to fling my arms
about and kiss lovingly ; have lived far, far
away from those my soul worshipped ; have
looked on death,and shut up cunning. laugh-
ing eyes, in whose dear sight [ was perfect.
I ineet with her in dreams, but our joyous
intercourse on earth is over. In sleep, too,
I meet a sweet, childish form, that seems
ever about me. Ilay me down to sleep,
and sleep teaches forgetfulness, I dream
that a soft, warm liftle hand is nestled with-
in my breast, or about my neck. and that a
golden head is pillowed upon my arm. A
little while the dream lasts ; then I wake to
remember that I have folded those little
marble hands upon a cold breast, and set-
tled the golden curls under the coffin lid, and
have tried to quiet the anguish at my heart
by saying. over and over again: ‘ God
knows best 1”?
«Try to forget your grief, darling ; and
be happy. Peace will come at last.”
«I know it, Kitty ; but dry your bright
eyes, dearie ; 1 did not mean to grieve you.
We must all be content, and do our earth's
work bravely. We have all a work to do—
be it great or small. We must cover up the
waste places in our hearts and lives, and live
for the present. We must let the shadow
of Past alone, and look not into the dark
future. There is little praise to us if we
work while the sun shines ; we must stand
bravely up and let the storm beat upon our
uncovered heads. Ruskin said: « We are
not sentinto the world to do anything into
which we cannot put our hearts. We have
certain work to do for our bread, and that
must be done strenuously ; other work to
do for our delight, and that is to be done
heartily. Neither is to be done by halves
or shifts, but witha will ; and what is not
worth the effort is not to be done at all.’ ”’
+“ Do you like Ruskin, Daisy 27
*“1 do, Kitty ; don’t you?”
‘Yes, rather. But he is awful good and
solemn.”
You will like him better, dailing, if ever
vou should know sorrow. You will find
then, that when you are sinking down,
down with heart-sickness and the loss of
hope, that his words of encouragement, or
his ideas of duty to be aone, or our ross to
be borne meekly —will hift you out of the
‘slough of despond.’ ”?
¢ Tell me more of your friends in B —,
Daisy, won't you 2”
¢* Not te-day, dear; I must to work. It
is a long time since [ have seen some of
these dear frierds. of whom [ have been
writing. Kitty. Buc I know some ot thém
think of me sometimes ; for, only a few days
ago, a loving letter wended its way from the
far shores of India.
much to shedding tears, therc was not a tew
fell on that precious letter—a mirgling of
sweet and bitter. What would I not give to
see them all once more, and to feel that I
am not forgotten ! [know when they read
Though not given |
A Woman of Good Taste.
A VERY HAPPY AND TRUE SKETCH.
+ You see this lady turning a cold eye to
the assurance of shopmen and the recom.
mendations of milliners. She cares not how
original a pattern may be, if it be ugly—or
how recent a shape, if it be awkward.---
Whatever laws fashion dictates, she follows
a law of her own, and is never behind it.—
She wears very beautiful things which peo
ple generally suppose to be fetched from
Paris, or. at least. made Ly a French millin-
er, but which as often are bought at the
nearest town and made np by her own hands.
Not that her costume is rich or new ; on the
contrary, she wears many a cheap dress, but
it is always pretty —and many an old one,
but itis always good. She deals in no
gaudy confusion of colors, nor does she aff-
ect a stupid sobriety ; but she either res
freshes you with a spirit contrast, or com-
poses you with a judicious harmony. Not
a scrap of tinsel or trumpery appears upon
her. She puts no faithin velvet bands, or
guilt buttons, or twisted cording. She is
quite aware however that the garnish is as
important as the dress, all her inner borders
and beadings are delicate and fresh ; and
should anything peep oat which is not in-
tended to be seen, it is quite as much so as
that whichis. After all there is no great
art either in her fashion or her materials. —
The Secret simply consists in her knowing
the three grand unities of dress —her own
station, her own age, and her own points.—
And no woman can dress well who does not.
After this, we need nou say that whoever is
attracted by the costume will not be disap.
pointed in the wearer. She may not be
handscme, nor accomplished, but we will
answer for her being even tempered, well
informed, thoroughly sensible, and a com-
plete lady.”
eh
The Jug Without a Bottom.
On a bridge that croses the Grand Rapids
we met a hale old man and nis wife, with
eleven sons, seven daughters, and thirty. sev-
en grand children, with numerous horses,
carts, wagons, oxen, cows, calves, sheep,
and furniture of antiquated appearence ¢
among which were seen cradles for babies,
Cradles for grain, spinning wheels. pots and
kettles, and almost everything requisite for
a settlement such as fifty blood relations
will make in the Grand River country. Af-
ter the train stopped we made inquiries, and
and asked the gentlamen what could be done
| with a bottomless jug, wnch was carefully
i
|
|
|
stowed away among the domestic equipment
and received the following reply.
*“ Why. sir, [ am a man of many years,
and have worked other people's lands all my
days, and payed from four to nine bushels
of wheat every year for doing it, aad have
all the time used a jug with a bottom to it,
by which all my profits have been wasted.
and [ got sick of feeding both landlord and
ramseller--so [ sent seven of my boys to
Mexico to fight for the r country. They all
got back safe ; and bought seven sections of
land, that please God, will be mine without
rent. And now the old jug you see there
shall hold al! the whiskey and rum that wil)
this sketch, and find how often [ think of : 3 s
. | be used in my whole family while I control
them, that they —one and all—will conclude fo Old General Taylor told my son
to stirs te Tee Megeehr, where hey | John that a bottomless jug was the best kind
will meet with me often, besides making the fota ing ooarll ori i beli ton
acquaintance of hosts of pleasant people, Jue Li a 3 oye
who will chat to them pleasantly each week,
dif odd ! The Cavalry Speculation.
and throw a wierd glamour over their hearts, 1.4 difficulty is presented at Washington,
woven by fancy and facts.
| as to the disposition of all the cavalry regi.
————— tO ee
DISCOVERIES IN CENTRAL AMERICA—AYN | MeNts accepted into the service. The Com-
LNDIAN GOD AND A BummiEp Crry.— While WAnding General asked for TWENTY SEV.
all the worid is busy with the present. So EN regiments and the whole number accep-
big with great events, we have a select irl ted and authorized to be raxsed by General
cle of gentlemen in Boston—the Ethnolcgi-
cal Society—who have the taste and leisure
for delving among the forgotten relics of the
past. At the last meeting of this society
some interesting results of antiquarian res
search were presented.
From Central America came the report
of the discovery by our minister at Guate~
mala, in the yard of his house, of an ancient
Indian 1dol of stone, which had been there
for two hundred years, where it was brought
by the Indians from the ancient residence of
the Quichean King, more than 150 mile
distant over lofty mountairs, and through
difficu't and dangerous passages. For forty-
six years tt has been buried to hide 1t from
the Indians, who came by night to worship,
until it was at last unearthed by our minis-
ter, Hon. Mr. Crosby, A more interesting
discovery still is that reported to have been
made in November, of the ruins of an im
mense city, buried in a dense forest, in the
province of Esqumitha, about forty-six miles
from Gautemala city, which is said to con
tain a very large numberof tine specimens
of sculpture. Uf this we shall hear hereaf-
ter.
rrr ee OA.
The Boston Herald says that ¢¢ the Eman-
cipation League in that city is in full blast.
The furnace is heated seven times hotter
than ever, and the whole pack of Aati-sla.
very Abolition devilsare at work to make
bedlam appear mors inviting *’
|
|
|
CAMERON, the late Secretary of War, is
SEVENIY-THREZ! This is forty-six
more than General MCOLELLAN either wants
or knows how to dispose of. This excess
will cost the Government just about $46,-
000,000 of needless expense, but what of
that 2 Tt gave SiMON OAMERON’S friends an
opportunity to buy up about FORTY
THOUSAND OLD HORSES and sell them
to the Government at an enormous profit.—
The Government now owns so many
horses that they don’t know what to do with
them, anc the animals have been put out to
board, by the thousand among the farmers
in Delaware, Maryland and the lower part
of Pennsylvania at 40 cents a day. It has
now been determined that the number of
Cavalry regiments actually required shall be
rendered as efficient as possible. and the
others either discharged or turned into [n-
fantry. After that is done, the poor old
horses will be sold at from thirty cents to
ten doll .rs a head. The rascals who forced
all these horses on the Government, should
be made to take them back or eat them.
ry AAA
Landlord. —Mr, Editor, I'll thank you to
say I keep the best stable in the eity,
Edi or.—1’1l thank you to supply my fam-
ily with board gratis.
Landlord, —I thought you were glad to
get something to fill up your paper.
Editor. —I thought you were glad to board
men for nothing.
It’s a poor rule that don’t work both
ways,
Democratic State Convention.
The Democratic State Committee met at
Buehler’s Hotel, in Harrisburg, on Wednes-
day last, agreeably to the call of the Chair-
man and adopted the following resolution :
Resolved, That the next Democratic Con-
vention be held in the City «f Harrisburg on
Friday, the 4th of July next, at 10 o’clock,
AM
Speaking of the action of the committee,
the Patriot & Union very properly remarks,
“Under the present circumstances of the
eountry it was wise in the Committee not to
call the Convention upon th: customary
Fourth of March. We have always regarded
that day as entirely too early to open the
campaign ; and in the present unsettled state
of the Nation, when new questions are con-
stantly springing up, and when the rebellion
requires the undivided attention of the people,
there were the strongest reasons against
hasty action. By the Fourth of July we may
be able to see our way clearly out of existing
complications. The Convention will be call
ed upon to nominate candidates for Auditor
General and tor Surveyor General.”
ere
SELLING AN ARTIST.— Mr. W. is one of our
most popular artists and draughtsmen. Not
long since, while busily at work, he was in-
terrupted by a rough looking customer :
“Be you Mr. W. the painter 2"
¢ Foam, sir.”
“You teach creatures to draw,
lieve 2’
. “Yes, sir, ” replied the artist, who fan-
cied his visitor some wealthy old father.
“ Do you wish your daughier to takea
few lessions ¢"
¢ No, sir, not my darter.”
“Your son perhaps ?”
¢* No, not my son, neither. ’’
“ Who then, sir? Not yourself, I hope?”
s+ No, not myself, but somebody a darned
sight more difficult—a four year old mule I
bought the other day. Learn him to draw,
and darned if I don’t out pewter and give
you the biggest hundred dollars you eyer
seed,”
The countryman weat down stairs with a
hop, skip, and jump, closely followed by an
old paw of boots, a meerchaum pipe, and
sundry other moveables.
I be-
ee Tas il
Tae Errecr.—We are rehably informod
that when the news that permission had been
granted by the United States authorities for
British troops to cross our territory became
known in Carada, it produced an electrical
and profound effect upon the public mind of
the most gratifying character. [It scemed te
dispel the war frown instantly ; and well ia.
formed gentlemen predict that the effect in
England will, if possible, be still more happy.
We trust it will prove so; we expect it will.
Tt is no use to paw dirt or shake horns at
John Bull or a ny other variety of the Anglv
Saxon race, unless you desire fight. Gen
erous confidence and magnanimity appeal to
the better side of nis nature. and he is as un
willing to be outdone in that direction as the
other. This little courtesy may torn the
whole current of feeling between the two coun
tries into a better channel, and give if a
more natural. rational tone. God grant that
it may.— Portland Argus,
A Dargey ConrFas —* Crow, I want to ax
you a conunderdum,
‘Well, Julies, succeed, I’se open for the
questhum.’
Can you tell me why de art of self: defence
am like the riber at low tide ?’
¢ No, Julies, T dosen t see no similafity in
de two subjects, so darefore, | guvs em up.’
¢ Well, den I'll tell you- itis simply -be-
kase it develops de muscles ! You is de
most ignamous nigger I neber seed.’
¢Yah-yah! I knowed it all de time what
dat was, only 1 did'nt want to say nuffin!
jiss ax me again and see if I can’t told you.’
A Puzzle.
HERE LIE
Two grandmothers, with their two grand-
daughters,
Two husbands, with their two wives.
Two fathers, with their fwo daughters.
Two mothers, with their two sons.
Two maidens with their two mothers.
Two sisters with their two brothers.
Yet but six lie burried here.
All born leginmate.
ees
AN Irishman at Bull Run battle was some
what startled when the head of his compan-
ion on the left hand was knocked ofl by a
cannon ball. A few moments after, howev-
er, a spent ball broke the fingers of his
comrade on the other side. The latter threw
down his gun and yelled with pain; when
the Irishman rushed to him exclaiming:
¢¢ Blast your sowl, you old woman, sthop
your cryin’! you make niore noise about it
than the man who lost his head.”
Ll Si geet EL
177 A Bill has been introduced into the
City Councii of Nashville to convert ali cit-
izens between the ages of 17 and 45 into
policemen, for the purpose of watching the
city by night, all of whom shall take an oath
to support the Southern Confederacy. Pass
ed first reading and referred to the Police
Committee
A Persian Story.
Jesus, says a persian story,arrived one
evening at the gates of a certain city, and he
sent his disciples forward to prepare a sup-
per, while he himself, intent on doing good,
walked through the streets into the market
place, And he saw atthe corner of the mar.
ket some people gathered together looking at
an object on the ground, and he drew near to
see what it might be. It wasa dead dog,
with a halter round his neck, by which he
appeared to have been dragged through the
dirt, and a viler, a more abject, a more un.
clean thing never met the eye of man. And
those who stood by looked cn with abhor-
rence. ‘ Faugh!” said one, stopping lis
nose, ‘“ it pollutes the air.” ¢ llow long
shall the foul beast offend your sight 2’ said
another. Look at his torn hide, *’ said a
third, *‘oue could not even cut a shoe out of
it.” ¢ And his ears, ’’ said a fourth, all
dragged and bleeding,” ¢ No doubt, "said
a fifth, ¢ he hath been hanged for stealing.”
And Jesus heard them, and looking down on
the dead creature he said: Pearls are not
equal to the whiteness of hus teeth.” Then
the people turned toward him with amaze-
ment, and said among themselves —¢ Who
is this? This 1s Jesus of Nazareth: for
only he could find something to pity and ap-
prove, even in a dog:” and, being ashamed,
they bowed their heads before him snd went
each his way.”
eee
SERENADE TO GEN. SieLps.—On Wednes-
day evening, the 9th,, Gen James Shields,
recently returned from Northern Mexico,
was serenaded by the Fifth Regiment Irish
Brigade, at Washington.
After being introduced, the General re-
turned his thanks for the compliment. A
few weeks ago, he said, he was wandering
in Northern Mexico, supposing himself to be
forgotten by his countrymen. As soon as
the call of our Government reached him, le
cast aside every personal consideration, and
hastened to the North to perform any duties
that would assigned him, so far as his abilis
ty enabled him.
He spoke of his attachment to his country
and again pledged his fidelity to the oath
which he had already taken. While com-
promise was possible and honorable, he was
in favor of it, and while peace was haenora-
ble he was also in favor of it; but now that
we were in the midst of civil war, he was
in favor of prosecuting it to a successtul con-
clusion at every national sacrifice, and at
every peril to bis life.
He adve: ted to the fact that in this try-
ing crisis he had not escaped suspicion ; al-
though he regretted the fact, it had not in-
fluenced his action. We must avoid as fatal
all military mistakes ; armed multitudes do
not constitute an army. Numbers alone
constitute force ; all that was necessary to
insure success 1s the proper direction of that
material now existing in the Free States.—
The army he said reflected credit upon the
General-in Chief and his Administration. --
If gallantly led in the future, we would re-
verse the Bull Run disaster.
Marriep ar Forty Mires ax IHovr—
Romance marriages appear to be the order
of the day. The Cleveland Herald says
On New Year's when the Cleaveland' and
Pittsburg train, bound south, arrived at
Salineville, a party of ten couples boarded
the train. They were, like the far Dinah
in the thrillingly affecting song, ‘‘dressed
out n gorgeous array, ”’ and gave other in-
dications of being out ¢‘ on a little time.”—
By a curious coincidence a clergyman made
his appearance at the same time, and was
also invited into the car. The train was
started off and was soon: rattling atv a tre-
mendous rate. Just asit' attained the top
of its speed there was a bustle: in the rear
car, the party was crowded'around the min-
ister, who thercupon stood up, facing a
blushing youg lady anda slightly embarrased
male passenger who were a step or two in ad-
vance of the remainder of the party. A few
words were said by the minister who then sta-
ted that the bonds of wedlock had been made
fast, and pronounced the couple man and
wife.—Conductor Swain was so carried away
by the excitement of the monent that he
made a very ncat and appropriate speech.
and invited the entire party to ride with
him whenever they chose—on payment of
the regular fare
CALIFORNIA SULPHUR AND ALUM. —At Co-
so, {alifornia, there is a peculiar volcanic
district. There is no large district crater,
but streams of lava pour forth from thous
sands of tubular openings. The sulphur
congeals, and is found hard in several places,
Alum is also found in great abnndance. It
appears that as the sulphur congeals it
throws out a coating of alum. These suls
phur springs cover about two acres of ground
They are situated on the side of a volcanic
hill, about three hundred feet above the level
of the plain, twenty miles south of Coso,
and fifteen miles north~cast of Little Owen's
Lake.
reel pp
GRraosroL Sidon !—Tue Republican edit:
ors say that Cameron ouly r¢tiz¢d from the
Cabinet, What a gracsfal felloa ho is!