wu
Seluct Poetry,
“LET US DIE FRIENDS,”
From the Galena Weekly Courier]
The smoke upon thebattle-field had slowly clear-
ed away,
Where gallant hearts had nobly fought through
all that bloody day ; CW
The sun had sunk behind the hiils and twilight
gently spread .
Her calm and grateful mantle o'er the dying and
the dead.
Upon that red ensanguined plain, with death and
ruin rife, l
Were bands of fierce and deadly foes that fellin
mortal strife,
Who once had dwelt as brothers in those happy
days gone by, 3 i
But now were lying side by side, in agony to die,
Among those dead and wonnded men who fell in
early fight,
Were two whose eyes were closing fast to all of
earthly sight;
Two foes who sadly thought of home and loved
ones far away,
Those happy homes and loving hearts made des-
olate that day.
One of those dying soldiers slowly reached his
prostrate foe,
With glaring eye and short’ning breath and ac-
cents sad and low, >
Said, “ We fought as foes will ever fight—with an
unsparing hand,
But shall Wwe earry hate and strife into that better
land ?
Lat us die friends —their fingers clasped, their
spirits passed awav,
But a smile of friendship lingered o'er
snowy brows of olay ; :
They made for them a soldier's grave, but their
spirits hand in hand, .
Were soaring through the realms of light. to that
far happy land. —NINA
(Galena, May 5, 1362.
Miseellancons,
The Sorrows of a Man who was
Born to be Hung,
their
While playing at Baltimore, Dan Marble
fell in with a gentleman who had formerly
been a merchant, and a man of consequence
in the mercantile community. His fortunes
had fallen in the ‘sere and yellow leaf ;” a
cireumstance briefly alluded ‘to in the works
of Wm. Shakspeare, Esq, a hterary gentle-
man, now long since deceased. The person
was quite a character, if his credit was be-
low par and his ‘moral grandeur’ on a very
limited scale. In short, at the time Dan
picked him up, the man was engaged in a|
species. practical chemistry, vulgarly
known as mixing toddy, aud keeping a faro
bank.
Dan met him one morning, in an uncom
mon mood ot double-breasted blues, and in-
vited him to take a drink at the bar of an
establishment where they chanced to meet,
and, to the comedian’s astonishment, the
man actually refused.
¢* Come along up— what’re you about 2’
‘ Can’t do it, Mr. Marble ; much obliged,
but excuse me.”
¢ Why, what on airth ails you? You
look as if you had lost a three year old colt,
or a patch ot pumpkins. Come.”
The man gave in, took a nipper, and then |
taking Dan gingerly by the shoulder, ad-
vanced a few feet from the bar, and in a de-
sponding tone of voice, says :
t Mr, Marble,you've traveled a great deal,
seen a good many ups and downs, but was
you ever drowned 2”
+ Well,” says Dan, as nobody but himself |
could have said it, “I hain’t, just at this mo-
ment, any particular recollection of having
gone that far—by water,”
¢ Was you ever saved from drowndin 2”
continued the melancholy man.
¢ Physical demonstration kind of argucs
in favor of such a conclusion,” says Dan.—
«I have been saved from drowning.”
¢ Then, Mr. Marble, you may be able to
appreciate my unfortunate situation, I was
saved from drowndin.”’
“Glad of it. Wasn't you 2’
“Glad ? glad ? No, sir! I lost thirty
thousand dollars by it.”
«t The dickens you did !”’ responded Dan,
in astonishment.
«It is a lamentable fact, sir. Sit down,
Mr, Marble. I know your time is valuable ;
I won’t detain you long.”’
“Don’t, if you please,”” echoed Dan,
‘smelling’ a long yarn.
«1 shan’t sir ; a few words will do.
pose we drink.”
*¢ Go ahead.
|
Sup-
A glass of sherry,” says
Dan.
“Gin and bitters,” says the melancholy |
man. “ My respects, Mr. Marble.”
‘The same,” says Dan. “Now let her
rp ;
“Well, Mr, Marble, in 1831 I was worth
thirty thousand dollars. I didn’t owe a
red cent in the world. One day, sir, I
went down to the basin to see a friend oft to
Norfolk. .
“Good bye,” says I, Take care of yout-
self, Jim.”
* Good bye,”" says he.
‘ But no sooner had I got ‘take care of
yourself’ out of my mouth than down I went
heels over stomach, off the wheelhouse on to
the wharf—backward into a wheelbarrow —
that tilted into the dock, and my first recol-
lection after that was a sensation as though
I had been converted into a pin cushion, and |
forty women jabbin in the pins.
I smelt a hot stove, red flannel, and ap-
ple jack. I heard a jumble of voices. |
“Rub away. He’s coming to.” :
““Tain’t no use. He’s a goner.
brandy won't save him.”
‘ Send for the doctor.”
¢ Coroner, you mean.”
** What's 1n his pockets ¢
Burnt
« Take care of his watch, gentlemen.”
« That part of the conversation,” says
Dan, ¢‘sort of revived you, I reckon.”
Mr. Marlle,’” replied the narrator, put-
ting his Land emphatically upon the come-
dian’s shoulder—*‘Mr. Marble, that brought
me.
*“ Where am I 2” says I.
In my shop,” says somebody.
““ What's the matter ?” says I.
“Isaved you; me—I'm the man!”
shouts the fellow.
* Saved me 2"
* And then, as I felt for my pocket book
and watch, I found I was damp—wet as a
drownded rat.
* Fell overboard, by thunder !” says,
“ Well you did, and no mistake,” says the
fellow. “I pulled you out, or you'd been
crab bait afore now.”’
¢ Call a carriage, if you please,” says I,
tossing up about two gallous of pure Chesa~
peake. Call a hack.”
“I've got a small bill agin you my frend,’
says the shopkeeper. «They have used a
gallon of my sperrets in fotching you to.”
“I paid the man a doliar.
* Then says some fellow standing by :
¢¢ Mister, [ spose you'll treat the crowd
for rubbing a’ you, and a rolling out the
walter.”
“1 invited the whole party up to drinik,
and handed around the cigars and crack-
ers.
“I then called again for a carriage.
I went for the doctor, Mister. Of course
you'll gin a fellow something for going for
the doctor,” said another blood sucker.
«I gave the rascal a dollar,
¢t Now,” says I, “tor God’s sake bring me
a carriage.
“IT was edging through the crowd towards
the door, when a nigger got before me, hat
in hand. .
‘* Boss, you broke dis child’s barrow all
to pieces. Guy, must hab a quarter or free
leben penny bits for mend dae, shuah !
I didn’t kill the nigger, but gave him
half a dollar, and rushed for the door. The
carriage drove up-- a doctor's gig at the
same time.
“Stop sir,” says the doctor ;
charge you for coming here.’
‘¢ Charge and be—!"" says I, jumping into
the hack,
‘Insolent puppy !”’ says the doctor, I'l]
make you smart for this before you are a
day older.”
** Do, if you please,” I shonted, as the
hackman drove off.
For some minutes I was unconscious of
all around me, even the wet and brazen fel
low by my side, but who did not long allow
me to repose in such happy oblivion—rot
and blast him.
““ What a cussed set of blood suckers
they were,” says he.
“ Umph !” says I, not exactly knowing
whether T was a dead or a living man.
“Them fellows down at the shop,” he
continued ; I pulled you out.”
¢“ What do you want here ? What are
you following me for 2 I gasped, almost
tempted to jump out at the window of the
hack.
“ Well,” he replied, “I’m a poor man—
got dreadful wet—amost lost my life—me, I
saved you.”
¢ Theard no more—my lifeless body was
taken out of the hack into my lodgings, —
When I came to, there stood the fellow, tell-
ing my friends how I fell in—like double
distilled thunder it fell upon my ears.
* Me, I saved him.” [agam elapsed into
a spasm. [I was sickly and fast in my bed
for twelve long months. My business was
neglected —my friends paid the fellow who
‘saved me’ handsomely—the doctor prose-
cuted me—my friends eombated him—and
when I got out of my bed I was a ruined
man.
** Yes, Mr. Marble, I was a ruired man —
involved—in feeble health and beset by a
fiend. For, sir, I had no sooner got about,
than I met--met—blast him, he froze to me
—dogged me like a shadow, and wherever I
Went, morning, noon and night, he bawled
in my ear:
Me, I saved you !’
“T tried to close up my affairs and clear
out. Couldn’t do it ; and between you and
I, Mr. Marble, T took faro for diversion, and
gin and bitters to keep my spirits from de.
serting me.”
* Well,” says Dan, ‘is the fellow still
about 2”
“I hope not—wouldn’t for fifty dollars
see him again. He stole a nigger a year
ago, was caught, and I heard no more from
him. T was becoming tranquilized and hap-
Py, when I learned, last night, that my
ghost had been seen sneaking around town
again.”’
They parted, and Dan saw no more of his
haunted friend ; and about a year after this
occurrence, while in the city of Memphis,
Tenn., Dan heard of the ex-mierchant. He
had emigrated from Baltimore to escape the
fellow who had ‘saved hifi,’ went to Ken-
tucky, and was hung for a fellow gambler.
Just before leaving, he called out ina loud
voice !
¢ Let me go—don’t anybody save me !"
and he went. .
— eee ——
[77 “Iam a greatgun.” said a tipsy
printer,” who had been on a spree for a
week. “Yes,” said the foreman, ¢ you're
a great gun, and half cocked, and you can
consider yourself discharged.” ‘¢ Well,”
said Typo, ** then I had better go oft.”
‘1 shall
Y
i
[From the Davenport (Iowa) Gazette, May I3.]
A BRAVE WOMAN Rus A SCOUN-
Private letters received in this place give
the particulars of an affair which recently
happened at Cape Girardeau in which a lady
of this city bore an active part. Mrs. Ken-
drick, wife of Captain Frank Kendrick, of
the second Iowa cavalry, had been staying
at a hotel in that village for some time when
she was aroused one night by a man at her
room door, who desired admittance, which
was of course refused, and on his persisting
she called for help. He then fled, but came
the second time when she again raised the
alarm, and he ran off. The landlord of the
hotel then gave Mrs. Kendrick a ptstol, and
advised her to use it in case the scoundrel
came again, He did so, and she then threat-
ened to shoot him if he disturbed her again,
when he left. Two or theee nights after
she was again awakened by the rapping at
her room door, she opened it and asked him
what he wanted and if he remembered what
she told him. He replied that he wanted to
come in and see her, and guessed she would
not hurt anybody with an empty pistol, and
then he tried to push her back into her
room so as to enter and close the door.—
Raising her pistol, she fired, the ball enter—
ing the neck near the jugular vein, and he
fell dead on the spot. Ile proved to be a
prominent citizen of ‘the town, a wealthy
man aud a leading secessionist. When the
news became known about town, a crowd
of his fellow secessionists mobbed the house
and threatened to hang Mrs. Kendrick, and
1t is not improbable they would have tried
to carry ous their designs if a guard had not
been placed around the house by the com-
mander of the Federal forces at the Cape.
Mrs. Kendrick promptly made known
what she had done, and went before a mag:
istrate, who after an examination, gave her
a certificate of honorable discharge ; it is
also said that the wife of the deceased, who
leaves a large family, expressed her appro -
val, under the circumstances of what Mrs.
Kendrick had done, The citizens also pre-
sented her with a beautiful pair of elegant
pistols, as a mark of favor. Mrs, Kendrick
shortly after joined her husband in the army
on the Upper Tennessee.
In this act, melancholy as is the fact that
any man should thus bring down upon
himself such punishment, Mrs. Kendrick ex-
hibited a determined heroism, combined
with true womanly dignity, that does her
much honor. Her act will be applauded
wherever it is known ; and were there a
few more examples of this kind, there would
be far less libertines in the world.
———— eee
A Western Insiy Hozrsr.—A lady from
the far West with her husband, was awaks«
ened in the night of their arrival in the city
of Penn, by an alarm of fire, and the yells
of several companies of firemen as they
dashed along the streets.
* Husband ! husband !” she cried, shaking
her worser half into consciousness; *¢ only
hear the Injens ! why this beats al’ the
scalp dances that I ever heard.”
“Nonsense!” growled the gentleman,
composing himself to sleep, ‘ there are no
Indians in Philadelphia.”
“No Injens indeed !” she replied, -*as if
I didn’t know 2 war whoop when I heard
oae!”’
The next morning, on descending to break-
fast, they were saluted with the inquiry
of—
* Did yeu hear the engines last night 1—
what a noise they made !?
¢ Tureing to her husband with an air of
triumph the lady exclaimed—
* There! I told you they were Injens !’
- OP
A Mober CHARGE TO A JuRY.—It seems to
us that the following is worthy of the de
funct but never forgotten Wouter Van Twi-
ler:
‘If the jury believe from the evidence,
that the plaintiff and defendant were parts
ners in the grocery, and that the plaintiff
bought out the defendant, and gave his note
by delivering to the plaintiff a cow which he
warranted not breachy, and the warranty
was broken by reason of the breachiness of
the cow, and he drove the cow back and ten-
dered her to the defendant, but the defen.
dant refused to receive her, and the plaintiff
took ber home again, and put a heavy yoke
or poke upon her to prevent her from jump -
ing the fence, and by reason of the yoke or
poke she broke her neck and died ; and if
the jury further believe that the defendant’s
interest in the grocery was worth anything,
the plaintiff's note was worthless, and the
cow good for nothing, either for milk or beef,
then the jury must find oat themselves how
they will deside the case ; for the court if
she understands herself, and she thinks she
do, is at a considerable nonpius how such
a case should be exactly decided,”
——————— Ar en
[7 An old lady, who had apparently not
long to live in this world, requested her
daughter to teach her a song of some kind,
as she had never learned to sing, and did
not know one tune from another. [er
daughter was curious to know what had pug
such a notion into Her mother’s head at such
a time of life.
Oh,” said the old lady, ¢* what a pret-
ty creature 1 would be to go to Heaven with
never a £ong on my lips,”
eet
[= John and his wife were tete-a-teto ;
she witty was ; industrious he ; says John,
“Ive earned the bread we've ate; says
she, © I have urned the tea.”
OLD WORDS WITH NEW DEFIN-
ITIONS.
Some clear headed, mischevous chap gets
off the following quaint definitions in which
there is considerable more truth than poe-
try :
Water— A clear fluid, once used as a
drink.
Honesty— An excellent joke.
Rural Felicity —Potatoes and turnips.
Tongue—A little horse which is continu
ally running away.
Dentist—A person who finds work for his
own teeth by taking out those of other peo-
ple.
My Dear—An expression used by man
and wife at the commencement of quarrels.
Policeman—A man hired by the corpo-
ration to sleep in the open air.
Bargain—A ludicrous transaction, in
which each party thinks he cheated the
other.
Doctor—A man who kills you to day to
save your life to morrow.
Author—A dealer in words, who
gets paid in his own coin.
Friend—A person who will not assist you
because he knows your love will excuse
him.
Editor— A poor chap who empties his
brain in order to fill his stomach.
Wealth—The most respectable quality of
men.
Bonnet —A female head dress for front
seats at the opera.
Critic—A bad dog that goes unchained
and barks at everything he does not compre -
hend.
Esquire —Everybody, yet nobody, the
equal to Colonel.
Jury —Twelve prisoners in a box to try
one at the bar.
State’s evidence—A wretch who gets a
pardon for being baser than his comrades.
Public Abuse—The mud with which all
travellers are spattered on the road to des-
truction
Modesty—A beautiful flower that flour-
ishes in secret places.
Lawyer—A learned gentleman who res
cues your estate from your enemy and
keeps it himself.
The Grave—An ugly hole in the earth,
which lovers and poets wish they were in
but take uncommon pains to keep out of.
Tragedian—A fellow with a tin pot on
his head, who stalks about the stage and
gets into a terrible passion for so much a
night. :
Marriage—The gate through which an
enchanted lover leaves the blissful region
and returns to earth .
Death —An impudent fellow who visits
people at all seasons, without invitation and
insists upon their immediately returning the
call.
Lotteries —Concerns that pay the legista-
tures handsomely for the privilege of cheat~
ing weak minded people.
Virtue—An awkard habit of acting diff~
erently from other people- ~ A vulgar word
which creates great mirth in fashionable
circles.
Honor —Shooting a friend through the
head, whom you respect in order to gain the
praise of a few people you despise.
ren 2
[77 In Minnesota, an Irishman by the
name of O'Conner, was killed by one of the
same persuasion, named Cochnan, and on
his dead body sat a jury of six men, half a
dozen of whom were Irish, who rendered the
following verdict, the original copy of which
as a specimen of chirogradhy, orthography,
etymology, syntax, prosody, never has been
beaten, even in Minnesota. Here jt is, all
but the spelling, which we have not types to
print :
¢ That Martin O'Conner, here lying dead,
came to his death by a shot from a gun.
which caused the blood to rush in torrents
from his bedy, so that it was impossible for
him to live until we could hold an inquest 1’
often
077 Mr. Stark was elected, or appointed
justice of the peace when De Kalb county
was first orgamzed in Illinois. He lived in
a log house, and always held his court at
home ; his wife kept his docket, andattend~
ed all his courts to keep his minutes. She
was a helpmate to him, and he courted to
sowe purpose when he got such a wife as
Mrs. Stark proved tobe. One doy when the
room was crowded and a trial going on, Mrs.
‘Stark dropped her pencil on the floor, and
being unable to find it for the pressure, the
justice roared out :
¢‘ Stand back—stand back, I say! the
court has lost her pencil !’
ewes
[T= An Irishman being asked whether he
did not frequently converse with a friend in
Irish, replied : ** No, indeed ; Jemmy often
speaks to me in Irish, but I always answer
him in English.’’
“Why so 2’
‘ Because, you see, I don’t want Jemmy
to know that I understand Irish.”
eet o—
0 The following notice was once posted
up on the estate of noble marquis of Kent :
* Notice is hereby given that tho Marquis of
Camden (on account of the backwardness of
the harvest} will not shoot himself, nor any
of his tenants, till after the sixteenth of Sep+
tember.”
—————
027 An editorial office is located imimedi-
ately over a recruiting office, and the editor
says the fifing and drumming drives cvery-
thing out of his head. What a_ scampering
there must have been down over bis shirt
collar !
Ovigival 9 ofry.
LINES TO *
BY J. W. FUREY.
A tribute to thy gentle grace,
With willing hand, fair girl, I trace ;
A tribute which, most joyfully,
I give, my gentle friend, to thee,
And though the words be humble—plain—
I pray thee to accept the strain.
For "mong thy friends who claim to be
The guardians of thy purity,
None are there who can wish for thee,
A life of joy more earnestly—
A life of peace—of hope—of love--
Such as the angels know above.
And may the future's fleeting years,
Bring to thee everything but tears’
I would not have thee heave a sigh,
Nor look, despairingly. on High ;
But I would have thee like a gem,
Set in Heavern’s own diadem,
As lustrous—olea r—as purely bright,
As any star that crowns the night !
Thus shalt thou live a life of bliss—
And can I wish thee more than this ?
Ah, no! ’twere vain to say I feel
More than my heart would dare reveal
But yet, sometimes, I crave a thought,
And pray I may not be forgot !
[From the Richmond Diesels |
EXPECTATIONS OF THE YANKEES.
The Yankees, it appears, are so certain
of soon being in possession of Richmond,
that they are already making preparation<
to start the old line of boats from Washing-
ton to Aquia Cieck. These boats having
performed their mission in bombarding and
burning the defenceless homesteads upon
the banks of the Potomac. and in kidnap -
ping the negroes, are now to be transform
ed into m« ssengers of peace, and in cement
ing, by social and commercial intercourse,
the glorious Union with our murderers and
conquerors. That interesting people scem
wo take it for granted, that as soon as they
have whipped us into submission, we shall
forget the past, and be ready to make up
and be as good friends as ever. As they
advance into our country they will inundate
us once more with their wares and notions,
their books and missionaries ; the en mnow
employed in cutting throats will be compe-
ting with each other for our custom, cach
one accusing the other of having been in the
war, and swearing that he himself was al-
ways opposed to it; the ships, which are
ravaging our coast, will come to our harbors
laden with the products of Yankee industry
and go back with the teeming riches of our
soil. Such, at least is their expectation,
founded on that knowledge of human nature
which is derived exclusively from the study
of their own character,
We do not pretend to doubt that there
are people in the South who would fulftil
these expectations ; but we are sure that
tew of them are of native growth. There
may be men from New England and from
other countries who would hail with rapture
overthrow of the Southern capital, but they
arc a minority even of their own country-
men resident in the South. The great mass
of them are loyal ; and as to the native born
disloyalists, they are too few in number to
deserve mention. Toryism is not in the
South what it was in the Revolution. Then
the Tories were powerful in numbers, and
often respectable in character, and position.
Nor did they conceal their Toryism, for they
were too strong to have reason for conccal-
ment. They proclaimed their sentiments
boldly, and not only that. but fought us in
the broad light of day. There are few Tor-
ies in Virginia. Whatever may have been
the divisions of sentiment at the beginning
of the war, the Yankee conduct of it has
made us one people. Such a thing as union
with them is hereafter an impossibility. If
they conquer us, they must hold us by the
strong arm ; for all respect, all confidence
all love has departed forever. They may
force their hateful presence upon our people:
they may perfume our air with the balmy
aroma of codfish, and make it musical with
their nasal intonations, but they cannot re-
create the Union. They might as well at-
tempt to galvamze a dead body into life and
make it perform all the functions of healthy
humanity.
It will only be when the South is dead,
physieally and morally that they can become
masters of our country. Their empty va-
Poring and gasconading pass by us as the
idle wind. They may take our cities, but
our immense territory remains, and not an
inch of it will be theirs but the ground they
stand (n. They may plant their foot firm-
ly, but it will be a¢ a vessel plantsits keel
upon the waves, only to conquer that portion
of it which it touches, and always to be at
its mercy when it rises in its anger. Even
their boastful menaces of the capture of
Richmond are no better founded than their
menaces uttered this time a yearago, They
were just as exultant and confident of the
future then as now.
Their Grand Army brought telegraph wire
with them, to be extended as they advanced
handecufis to be placed upon our limbs a nd |
halters upon our necks, and they had ar.
ranged a programe for a magnificent hall in
this city to celebrate their victory, They
had even rented a large warehouse in Wash
tngton wherein to deposit the host of pris
oners who were to be taken at the battle of
Manassas. The Good Book advises those
whd put on their armor not to boast as those
who take it off. There is 8 lion in their
path still whom they must beard and anni-
hilate before they reach Richmond.
Tero
77 Crammond Kennedy, the * Boy
Preacher,” is now a student at Madison Un.
iyersity.
A STRANGE STORY.
The following wonderful story is told by
a correspondent of the Dublin Evening
Mau! :
This is the age cf discoveries, and one of
such a startling nature has just been made
in an English country that it seems out of
place in a region of sober fact, and to be-
long purely to the atmosphere of the three
volume novel. Here are the circumstances
—the names for the moment I not at
liberty to indicate : :
The Earl of married not long sgo.
and brought his bride home to one of the
old family mansions which members of the
English aristocracy regard with an effection
amounting to veneration. The lady how.
ever being more continental in her tastes,
after a short residence in the apartment ap-
propriated to her use, expressed a wish to
have a boudoir in the vicinity of her bed~
room. The noble carl would gladly have
complied with her request, but upon exam-
ination it was found that the rooms as
sometimes happens in antique buildings,
were so awkwardly distributed, that by no
conceiveable plan of rearrangem nt could
tke desired boudoir be fitted in. Thereupon
it became necessary to envoke professional
assistance, and an eminent architect was
summoned from London. He examined the
house narrowly, and said there seemed to
be nothing for it but to build, though at the
same time he could not resist the Mpress
ion that there must be another undiscovered
room somewhere in that wing of the man-
sion. The noble carl laughed at the idea;
the oldest servants and retainers of the
family were called in and questioned, and
declared they had never heard even a rumor
of its existence. The ordinary methols of
tapping, etc., were resortcd to but without
effect. Still the architect retained. his con
viction, and declared himself ready to stake
his professional reputation on the resuit.
The carl at last consented to let the walls
be bored, and when an opening had been
wade, nt only was the room found, but a
sight presented itself which almost defeats
description. The apartment was fitted up
in the richest and most luxurous style of
150 years since. A quantity of ladies’ ap
parcl lay about the room, jewels were scat-
tered on the dressing table, and but for the
faded aspect which everything wore, the
chamber might have been tenanted half an
hour previously. On approaching the bed
the mest curious sight of all was secn, and
this it is that affords the only clue to the
mystery. The couch held the skeleton of a
female, and on the floor, underneath the bed
half in and half out lay another skeleton,
that of a man, presenting evident traces of
violence, and proving that before he cxpi-
{ red he must have received some dreadful in
jury. The secret connected with this tale
jof blood has been well fept, for not merely
had all tradition of the scenc faded away,
but even the existence of the room itself
was forgotten. The survivors, probably.
walled up the apartment at the time, and its
contents remained hermetically sealed up to
the present day, when according to the best
calculations, after the lapse of a century and
a half, dayhght has accidentally penctiated
into this chamber of horrors, which, to the
surprise of all concernad, has been discover
rd in one of the noblest mansions in the
country of
am
Solis A Ral en
GEN. MoCLELLAN'S ADDRESS 10 Tig
Troops tar Fovaur AT WiLLiaMssoR:. —
While quartered at Williamsburg Gen. Me
Clellan rode out on Wednesday while the
troops were on dress parade. He rode
along the lines of Hooker's division until he
reached the brigade wm which the Fifth Wis-
consin regiment was drawn up, then raising
his cap he pronounced in clear and sonorous
tones the following words.
| ‘My lads, I have come to thank you fo,
| your gallant conduct the other day, By
your bravery and study discipline you saved
the day. You have gained honor tor the
army, for yourselves and for the States
which are proud to own you for their sons.
You shall have Williamsburg emblazed on
your banners. You have stood by me faith-
fully. Continue to do so and your grateful
country will never forget you.
I need not say that this stirring little
speech called forth the utmost enthusiasm
The whole army idolizes McClellan, and to
be thus complimented by him was felt to be
an honor indeed.”
a
077A colored servant sweeping out a
bachelor’s room, found a sixpence on the
carpet which he carried to the owner.
¢* You may keep. it for your honesty,” said
he. 5 i .
A shoit time after he missed his geld pen-
cil case, and inquired of his servant, if he
seen it. >
** Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“ And what did you do with it
¢* Kept it for my honesty, sir.’
The old bachelor disappeared.
RN LE
CAPPING A STORY.—A Scotch paper speakg
of a fox having been seen trying to spring a
steel trap by means of a stick that he car-
ried in his mouth. We knew a fox once
that took a well pole from the well and
pushed a turkey off the lower limb of a tree
with it, and put the pole back in its place.
Au least he got the turkey, and the pole was
found all right in the morning.
-— Prem
077° Who 15 the most liberal man ¢ The
grocer; he gives aimost everything & weigh.
rr}
GLORIOUS NEWS FROM THE OLD
NORTH STATE.
The information which we give below is
gratifying to the lover of his. country. —
North Carolina at last begins to. awake . to
the fact that J. Davis § Co., have been ma-
king a cat’s paw of the old North State to
poke their chesnuts out of the fire, an1 re-
fuses longer to submit to the disgrace and
burden which has Leen: imposed upon her
by the scoundrels at Richmond. The old
patriotic fires which burned so brightly at
Alamance and Mecklenburg are rapidly des
veloping themselves, and we trust wil]
burn with an in creasing brilliancy upon the
altars of liberty. North Carolina is in a
fair way of being regenerated from the
thraldom of sin and rebeldom. , We trust
that this may prove the harbinger of bette
days, and that bright prospects , pre ahead
for our beloved country. We obtain. the
news by way of Washington. and direct from
Raleigh. ¥,
The arrest of Mayor Respess, of Washing-
ton N C., who was siezed in the night time
in the most summary manner and hurried
off to Richmond im irons, is creating a most
intense excitement in the State The Gov-
ernor of the State. (who is not in prison as
teported,) backed by the Convention, sent a
peremtory demand to the Richmond: author.
ities for the immediate delivery of the per-
son of Mayor Respess, who was kept in
close confinement. Ilis trial was in pro.
gress when they received the demnd: and
the authorities at Rizhmond informed the
committee sent by Gov. Clark that there
were a few more witnesses to appear in the
case, and they desired to complete the trial.
The committee informed the authorities at
Richmond that the person of thas Major
must be delivered up forthwith, otherwise
North Carolina would send & force to back
up the demand of the Convention. Mf.
Respess was delivered over to the committea
and went to Raleigh rejoicing. He was set
at liberty and is now on his way home to
Washington where the Union citizens are
preparing to give him an ovation. This
committee was instructed and did deliver an
order to the Virginia chivalry that North
Carolina was capable of managing her own
affairs, and that no more of the citizens must
be taken out of thx State. ]
In connection with this matter we alse
learn that J. Davis a few days since ordered
Governor Clark to furnish them all the
means of Transportation and defence poss-
ible to aid them in the passage to and
through the cotton States, and also for ad-
ditional troops. Gov. Clark backed by
the convention informed him that che had
all the aid from North Carolina he could ex-
pect; and hereafter that no. more troops
would be permitted to leave the State, and
has ordered all the North Corolina State
troops home. Hg
Gov. Clark informed the rebels that they
could use the railroads in retreating home,
and they would run their own risk of being
intercepted by a Union force in any part of
the State, : 5
The above information comes from a mem
ber of the Convention, --Newdern Progress
May 10.
—— et Det me
. (From the Richmond Whig.)
OWNING UP THE REBELS DJ LIE.
REPORTS OF BATTLES,
Why the reporting of a battle, by teles
graph, by letter, or by word of mouth, should
deprive a man of every particle of common
sense, or every spark of princiole, we know
not ; but the fict 1s so. A battle is no
sooner begun than we are notified by a tre:
liable” despatch that the “whole army, of
the enemy will certainly be killed or cap.
tured.” This we heard in rogard to Donel =
son, Elkhorn, Shilo an nearly every other
battle which his been fought. * Tt has been
claimed that the people of the North are li.
ars, and that we of the South are truthful, —
This is a delusion. We are fast learning to
‘I as many lies, as big lies, as foolish and
sclf evident lies as the Yankees. Brery
body kicws that “the whole army of the
enemy will certainly be killed or captured”
means that the Confederates will be defeated
neat day. But why choose a preposterous
falsehood to convey disagreeable truth 7 —
Why not say ‘the advantage 1s so far on
our side, but the battle is not decided yet :
the cnemy’s reinforcements may come up 3’
Or, when the stories of passengers by the
cars are given, why not sift them, rejecting
rigidly all that savors of the least doubt, and
reporting only what is well authentisated.?
Why raise false hopes and false joy in tho
people ? 3 ar §
Another piece of stupidity on the part of
our newspaper and telegraph men is the ins
ordinate puffing of this or that general. --
Endless ridicule has been heaped upon
Mr. Davis by comparing him to Washing.
ton ; and we have been pained to sea Mr.
Breckinridge victimized by despatches fram
the battle field of Shitoh. ~ Hindman had his
leg shot off, but that is a small matter when
we consider that Breckinridge “won immor-
tal honor” by having every rag of “this
clothes shot away,’ his *‘horse riddled’’ and
even “his hat swept down’ = notwithstand -
ing which (the frightful deprivation, of his
hat) he fought undismiyed. We mean no
disrespect to Breckinridge —quite the con.
trary ~~ We are only angry that his friends
should permit the reporters to make him cut
a jackassical figure in history. .
Unless we can go back to the old habit of
telling the truth and using moderate lan-
guage, quit ‘shaking Savannih with an
earthquake” from a fort that surrendered af-
ter four men were wounded, and cease to
imitate the bombastical and mendacious lin
go of the Mexicans and the Chinese, we had
better shut up the telegraphic offices and
suppress the newspapers. Let us show to
the world that we are Southerners lovers of
truth, and of plain, honest. speech, or elas
let us go back to the Yankees we so much,
resemble. The country is sick of the in.ffa-
ble nonsense of the knives and fools who
=
pretend to teport our battles
.
1