—
A
BELLEFONTE,
FRIDAY MORNING, NOV.
21,” 1862;
Sila Pustry,
LOVE IN AUTUMN,
All day with measured stroke I hear
From threshing floors the busy flail ;
And in the fields of stubble near
Incessant pipe the speckled quail.
All golden ripe the apples glow
Among the orchard’s russet leaves ;
‘@outhward the twittering swallows go
That sung all Summer ’neath the eaves. ~
Aoross the fait borison’s line
The slender Autumn mists are drawn ;
The grapes are purple on the vine,
The sunflower shines upon the lawn.
* And stretohed athwart the burning sky
The spider's threads of silyer white,
Like netted vapors to the eye,
Hang quivering iu the noonday light.
year ago to-day we stood
Berei'h the maple’s crimson glow,
That like a watch-fire in the wood,
(tleamed to the yellowing vale below.
Calm was the day, without a breath,
An all pervading stillness deep *
A calm that seemed the calm of Death—
A silenoco like to tha! of sleep.
And only on the listening ear
Through the wide wo:d that hollow sound
Of dropping nuts, aud sweet and clear
The spring twat bubbled from the ground.
Close at our feet the brook slid down,
Past tangled knots of sedge and weed,
And under leaves of gold and brown,
To cparkle through tho level mead.
A look of hair, a ring, a flower—
The latter faded, old and sere—
Mute records of that vanished hour,
Aemontoes that my heart helds dear.
Like one who in a pensive dream
Sees long-lost friends around his bed,
I, gnzing on those troasures, seem
To hold soramunion with the dead.
The whispered vow—the ling ring kiss—
The long embraces, cheek to cheek—
The silence that proolaimed our bliss,
Beyond the power of words to speak.
All seems so near—then home we went
Through meadows where the aster grew,
While overhead the hues were blent
Of sunset with the meting blue.
O fire that Bate the autumn leaf—
O balm that knows noquickening breath—
0 winds that strip the ungaruered sheaf—
Yeo are to me the types of Death.
Ab! goon those groves sli’ ' za their glow :
And youder sun his Lia. . ui glare,
And blasts that through Deceiner blow
Shall leave the branches bi. ak and bare.
a.
Wiseglluncons.
Cousin Tom. Tom.
“Mary, I am astonished i
Of course, the grave elder sister was as-
tonished. In truth, and in fact, she rived
in a chronic state of amazement ; for Mary
Thorne was always dving something to as-
ish her friends and relatives. Miss
th could hardly credit the evidenca of
«or own senses, in the hazy glow of the
- August morning, when she came out of the
cleamatis shadows of the little south porch
and discovered that youder moving object
half way up among the unbrageous bran-
ches of the hage old pear tree, was not a
spray of leaves, nor yet a russet-plumed
robin, nor a cluster of sun checked pears
swinging in the blue empyream, but—Miss
Mary Thorne, comfortably perched in the
crooks of the guarled tree, ber curls all
flecked with the sifted rain of sunshine that
came down through the shifting canopy of
teaves, and a book in her lap.
“Tdon’t care!” said the little damsel,
laughing saucy defiance.
place in the world up here; feel just like a
bird, with the leaves fluttering against my
face und the wind blowing so softly—and 1
intend to stay here? Wouldnt you like to
gome up here, Ruthy? it’s easily done;
just put your foot on that knot, and—"
Ruth, who was thirty, and weighed a
hundred and sixty pounds, bristled up with
afazement,
** Mary Thorne, are you crazy? Come
down this instant I”
“I shan’t,”” said naughty Mary, tossing
the silky shower of curls away from her
forehead, and glancing down with eyes that
shone and sparkled like two blue jewels.
* But we are going—""
“Yes, I understand, You are all going
in triumphal procession to the depot, to
render an cvation to the great Professor |
din Place, the wisest, sagest, and grandest |
“of all mankind, to whom the Thorne family
have the unutterable honor of being second
gousins, au to escort him solemnly to a
month's sojodrn at Thorne Hall. O, dear!
I wish I could run away somewhere and
hide. I bate this paragon of prim decision.
1 shan’t marry him if he asks, and I mean
to behave so badly that he wou’t dream of
it. No, Iam not going with you. I hate
the close barouche, and it’s tao warm to
ide.on horseback. I shall stay at home !”’
And Miss Mary settled herself so snugly
with one tiny foot swinging down, and her
pretty head close to a nest of blue speckled
bird's eggs, that Ruth gave it up with a
sigh of despair.
“Well, then, have it your own way, you
incorrigable romp. I wish you weren't too
big to be shut vp in & dark closet, or have
your ears well boxed.”
“It’s the nicest]
murely.
have like a young lady, mind!”
“ All right,” said Mary, dauntlessly, *
romps together, when we were children.”
listen,
of the winding road;
had chimed out eleven.
the giant pear tree.
trate the green fulinge below.
smell.
jear.”
cigar,
garden slopes.
* That's Tum Bradley,”
herself.
* Now,
mistaken |
“Tom !” she called out in a silver accen
call had proceeded.
cjacu'uted,
pe bed !
may come up if you please,
ty of room fir both.
misgiving crossed her mind.
suppose ?”’
“ Mary herself!
catch hold of this branch—there.
say you might kiss me!”
aren’t we cousins ?”’
days.
and what a nice moustache you've got.
shouldn’t have known you, Tom 1”
* No,” said Tom, roguishly.
“ And you've grown so tall !
Tom, you're splendid !”
The gentleman laughed.
turn the compliment if I dared.
hall.”
with us, Tom, I do hato that man’l
* ITate him, what for 2”
ty six !”
wears spectacles for all that.
you'll never breathe a word of this—"’
“1 wont, upon my honor,” said Tom.”
and—"
nation flashing in her cheeks.
never, never will marry the man !”
“I wouldn’t if I were you,”
Tom,
the man before you decide.
quite a decent fellow.”
beforehand !”
“What a spiteful little pussy you are,”
said her companion laughing. .
* No, indeed, , Tom, I’m
blue eyes became misty.
Ruth dearly—and I love almost everybody
I like you Tom, but I hate Prof. La Place
kind! Will you 2”
clad
“It is a pity, isn’t it,” aid Mats, de-
* Of course it is, Mary; if Cousin Tom
Bradley comes this morning be sure and ex-
plain to him why we are absent, and be-
She sat there in the old pear tree, prettier
than any [Tamadryad 1%:at ever might have
haunted the mossy old veteran of the gar-
den, her check touched with sunshine and
carmine, her dimpled lips apart, now read-
ing a line or two from the book in her lap,
now looking up, rapt in girlish reverie, into
the blue sky as it sparkled through ever
moving leaves, and now breaking into a
suft little warble of song that made the
very robins put their heads to one side to
The carriage had driven away long
since—she had watched it beyond the curve
the dark mantle of
shadow was slowly following sho creeping
sun-glow across the velvet lawn below, and
the old church spire among the far off woods
And still Mary
Thorne sut there in the forked branches of
Suddenly there floated up into the leafy
sunctuary a pungent aromatic odor, which
made ber lean curiously forward, shading
lier eyes with one hand, the better to pene-
Not the late
monthly roses nor the amethyst borders of
Leliotrope, nor the spicy geraniums, none
of these blossoms distilled that peculiar
* My patience,” said little Mary, “it's a
A cigar it was, and the owner thereof—
she could just see a white linen coat and a
tall head covered with black wavy curls—
stood on the porch steps, quietly smoking,
and iudulging in a lengthened view of the
said Mary to
if he thinks I'm coming down
out of this delicious cool place to git up
straight in the hot parlors, he’s very much
of imperative summons, and then burst into
merry Juughter at the evident amazement
with which the stranger gazed around him,
vaiuly trying to conjecture whence the
* You dear, stupid Cousin Tom,” she
“don’t stare off towards the
Look straight up here ! you
There's plen-
You are Cousin Tom,
aren’v you?” she continued, as a sudden
“Of course, I am; and you are Mary, I
Up with you, Tom—
Now
shake hands--you saucy fellow, I didn’t
“Well, I couldn’t help it—and, hesides-
“Why, Tom, how you have changed!”
ejaculated the young lady, pushing back
the curls with one hand, that she might the
better view her playmate of childhood’s
Your hair never curled so before ;
1| snuff, nor wear spectacles! I beg the other
I declare,
“I could re-
But
where are all the rest of my relations? The
house below is as empty as some haunted
““ All gone to welcome horrid, poky old
Prof. La Place, who has graciously indica-
ted his willingness to pass a few weeks
“0, I don’t know ; I’m sure he’s a snuff-
dried, conceited old wretch, and I'll wager
a box of gloves that he wears spectacles !”’
“Nonsense, Mary! why he’s only twen-
I don’t care—I know he’s rheumatic and
And Tom, if
“Well, then, papa has actually got the
idea into his dear old head that I should
make a nice wife fur the professor, and—
Mary turned away .with crimson indig-
“It is too bad of you to laugh, Tom. I
consoled
But, Cousin Mary, wait and see
He may be
“No !” said Mary, shaking her head and
biting Ler cherry lips firmly ; “I hate him
not!” and the
“I love papa and
Aad I want you to promise, Tom, that you’ll
stand my friend, and not allow him to tease
me into walks or rides, or tete-a-tetes of any
Would he? If she had asked him to pre-
cipitato himself out of the pear tree upon
the stone steps below, with those blue eyes
fixed on his, he’d have done it! Any man
of taste would.
hands on it!
old tree was!
most natural thing in the world that Tom
should recover the book which had slipped
down into a net-work of tiny boughs, and
read poetry to his pretty cousin in the deep
musical voice that maidens love to listen to !
And Mary sat there, watching the jetty
curls blowing to and fro on bis broad white
brow, and the long, black lashes almost
touching his olive cheek. And she thought
how very, very handsome cousin Tom was,
and how much he had changed in the ten
years that bad-elapséd since she ~bad seen
him; and she wondered whether Tom was
engaged to any pretty girl—somebow she
hoped not! Now, why couldn’t Tom have
been rich like that Prof. La Place, instead
of a poor medical student and—"
And when the large black eyes were sud
denly lifted to hers, Mary felt as though he
blushed scarlet ;
“Come Tom,” she ohattered, to hide ber
confusion, * we've been up here long enough
Help me down, and I'll show you the old
sundial that we used to heap up with but-
tercups when we were children.”
What a tiny, insignificant, little Mary
she felt, leaning on the arm of that tall cous-
in. And how nice it was to bave the state-
ly head beat down so courteously to catch
her soft accents—for somehow Mary had
forgotten her sauciness, and grown wonder-
ously shy!
A rumble of wheels—it was the return-
ing carriage, and Mary clung to Tow’s
arm.
“The awful professor!” she whispered.
« Now, Cousin Tom, be sure you stand by
me through everything.”
“Tomy life's end!” was the whispered
answer ; and Mary felt herself crimsoning
much as she stroye to repress the tell-tale
blood.
But there was no one in the barouche,
t | save Mr. Thorn and Ruth, as it drew up on
the grand sweep, beside the two cousins.
“Where is the Professor?” questioned
Miss Mary.
“Ilo was not at the depot,” said Miss
Ruth ** and ’—
But Mr. Thorn had sprang from the car-
risge, and clasped both the strangers hands
in his.
# La Place is it possible? Why, we have
just been looking for you at Mill Station 2”
“ I am sorry to have inconvenienced you.
sir,” was the reply; “but I came by the
way of Wharton, and walked over this
morning.”
“ Nover mind, now, so you are safely
here,” exclaimed the old gentleman.
* Rath, my dear—Mary—let me introduce
yon to your cousin, Prof. La Place!”
Mary had dropped his arm and stood dis-
mayed.
“ Your told me you were cousin Tom!”
So I am ccusin Tom! that is my name
and relationship. Now, Mary,” and the
black eyes sparkled brimful of deprecating
archness, *“ don’t be angry because I don’t
Cousin Tum’s pardon, whoever he is; but I
am very glad Le isn’t here. Mary be just
and don’t hate cousin Tom, because his oth-
er name happens to be La. Place !”
Ie need not have been so apprehensive,
for: in their twilight walk beside the sun-
dial that very evening she confessed that
she did not, find Prof. La. Place such a ter-
rible ogre, after all; quite the contrary, in
fact. And he succeeded in convincing her
that he liked his impulsive little cousin Ma-
ry all the better for those pear tree confi-
dences !
But no doubt, it was a very perplexing
about six months subsequently, Miss Mary
contrived to obviate that inconvenience by
allowing one of them to assume a nearer re-
lationship, and in spite of all her assevera
tions to the contrary, she is Mrs. Prof. La
Place.
“For it’s a solemn fact in this world,
that, whenever a girl says she “ never, never,”
will do a thing, she is pretty sure to go and
do it the first chance she gets, and Mary is
no exception to the general rule!—XN, ¥.
Ledger.
vee be iT
IGNORANCE A’ Briss.—A private letter
from Mr. Charles Wright, on the gunboat
Benton, on the Mississippi river, to his sis-
ter in this city gives an amusing account of
an ivterview with a lumbermau up the Ya-
zoo river, who bad never heard of the troub-
les about Secession, and received ‘is first
intimation that war was raging from our
forces on the gunboat. He had been 1n the
gum swamps four years ; during a large por-
tion of the time he had not seen a human
being. When he met cur gunboats and
heard of the war he was much astonished
as may well be supposed. He was on
! his way to Vicksburg at the time, to secuet
!| a market for ns lumber,
Gen. Nye has paid a visit to California
for the purpose of obtaining a sufficient
military force to preservo order in Nevada,
Large numbers of secessionists had left
California for that Territory, and apprehen-
sions existed of difficulty with them.
“I promise I” he said; and they shook
What a cozy place fur a chat that gnarled
And when they talked over
I| everything they could think of, it was the
always liked Tom; we used to have grand
had read every thought of her mind, and |
thing to have fwo Cousin Toms; and so, |.
THE WOMAN AND THE SURGEON.
An interesting 2ase has just come to my
knowledge within a day or two, where a
New England woman alone and friendless,
achieved a great reform in one of our haspi-
tals, The surgeon having charge of this
particular hospital was a brute, treating the
men in his charge, visitors, and indeed = the
surgeons under him, with contempteous
cruelty. Having political influence, it was
Dot an easy matter to remove him, though
there were a hundred acts of his, any one
of which would or should be considered suf-
| ficient cause for his dissmissal from the ser-
vice. But every one beneath him was afraid
to take the first step for fear the brutal man
would turn upon the person beginning the
and influence crash the compisfhant. One
day a New England woman came to the
hospital to see her sick son. She soon met
the chief surgeon and was treated with
coarse violence. 1f he could have his way
he said he would not permit a woman to
come near the hospital, 1t wasin vain that
sne urged she had not seen her boy for long
months, and that he was now very ill and
perhaps dying. The monster continued to
revile her. but dared not not refuse her ad-
mittance to see her son. She soon found
the surgeon in immediate attendance upon
her boy, and told him of the treatment she
had received from the chief surgeon: Ie
replied that he was not at all surprised, the
chief surgeon treated everbody brutally.
“Why thendo you submit to such cruel
outrage ? was the spirited woman's ques-
tion.
«I suppose we are all of us afraid to make
the complaint against him!” was the re-
ply.
The woman found that her son was incu-
rably ill, and was the proper sulject ofa
discharge. The assistant surgeon so in-
formed her. She then sought the chief
surgeon, and asked him to make a report
to the surgeon General on the condition of
her son. He refused with a dreadful oath,
The New England grit in the woman's
heart took fire. **You stand there,” said
she, “and jeer at mysorrow. You use lan-
guage toward me that a beast would be
ashamed of. But let ne tell you that poor
and friendless as [ am, I am more powerful
than you, and 1 will not leave Washington
tll I have exposed your brutality !”’
She was as good as her word. She went
at once to Secretary Stanton. [le 1eferred
ber at once to the Surgeon General, with a
request that he would look carefully into
the case. and if the fact would warrant her
assertions, that he would mete out rigid jus-
tice to the hospital surgeon. The first act
of the Surgeon general was to order the
surgeon-in-charge to make a report upon
the case of the woman's son. The report
was returned the very next day, and its
Janguage was insvlent in the extreme.—
The surgeon was angry at the woman's in-
terferenco.
“This is enoagh. ” gaid the Surgeon Gen-
eral: *‘ A man who will send me such a
report is guilty of all you charge against him.
I will not take the troulle to examine in the
case. He shall be dismissed from the ser-
vice!”
That very night, as the Chief Surgeon of
Blank Hospital sat with his assistants
around him, indulging in his usual bluster,
a pleasant faced man appeared at the door
and iuquired for Surgeon in charge of
the hospital. That person was speedily
pointed out to him.
“J am directed to hand this to you from
the Surgeon General,” said the stranger.
I'he surgeon opened it and found that it
ordered him 10 hand over the hospital and
supplies to the bearer, who would take
charge of them, and, to conclude, dismissed
the brutal surgeon from the service, The
New England woman bad trinmphed at
last,
een lA pee
A Youn Epiror.—In Penfield N. Y,,
there is a precious little girl of 12 years, who
publishes a sprightly weekly paper, much
of which is her own composition every line of
which is set by her own fingers. She was
born on the 21st day of of November 1849.
Her father an invalid and almost blind, was
formerly a printer. 1n this way she came
into possession of her type and press. Since
the death of her mother she has supported
ber father and three younger sisters by her
talent and industry.
Sere
Mrs. LiNcon's Sisters, —On Monday last
we observed three beautiful ladie. promena-
ding Whitehall street, and were informed
that two of them were sisters of Mrs. Presi-
dent Abe Lincoln. The ladies we saw,
we are pleased to know are second to
none in patriotic devotion to the South- -
They reside in Selma, Ala. If Old Abe's
wife is half as handsome as her fair sisters
of the Sunny South, it is not strange that
she is so much admired by the Yankees.
Atignta Confederacy.
La France says that Garabaldi has de-
olared that he will publish a manifesto to
Europe, containing important revelations,
supported by irrefragable documentary evi
dence.
Kossuru is dying with consumption, and
will never realize his dreams of Hungarian
freedom.
tet APPA ts.
New Jersey goes for the Democracy, who
en, and can re-elect uo U. S. Senator of
complaint, and with his superior position ;
gain a Governor (Parker) and one Congreas- |
Origin] Pogtry,
“BORROWING.
BY PUMP SUNKINS, ESQ.
The other day, being short of funds,
I trotted "round to borrow
An “X” orso from some kind friend,
To help me thro’ the morrow.
A note in Bank was due next day,
And I was pushed like ¢ thunder,”
To raise enough of “Ready John,”
To keep from ‘‘ going under.”
I met a friend—** now, here,’ thinks I,
“ He'll surely not refuse me!”
But no—he looked surprised and said,
“Dear Punp, pray do excuse me.
* The fact is, [—am—short—myself,""
He blushed—the pup was j o-4-i-n g;
'Tis strange to me how some men lie,
Without the fear of choking.
The next I met was wondrous poor,
He hadn't got a copper;
I've seen him, though, with lots of “chink,”
And krew he told a—whopper!
Disgusted now, I swore that friends
Were never friends when needed ;
That when misforiune’s horse you rode,
They'd pass you by unheeded.
‘ But yet,’ thinks I, ‘I'll try again,”
And popped around the corner
Into the office of my friend,
My wealthy friend, Dick Horner.
But Dick, somehow, was rather cool,
And couldn’t loan the money :
And said he thought my asking Aim,
Was, really, rather funny!"
Discouraged now, I turned to go,
But feeling somewhat curse--y ;
“I guess,” says I, ¢ the jig's all up,
I'll trust the Banker's mercy!”
Just then a thought flashed thro’ my brain,
Which did my * phiz’’ illumine;
“He'll doit! bythe Powers, yes,
As quick as any ** human!”
Thinks I, “ old fel—just go to h—I,
And I'd go down to Bynoe ;
I'll bet, by jing, 'most anything,
He'll shell me out the * rhino!"
So off I posted down to Jack,
Aud told him all my trouble ;
Says he, ‘dear Puxe, here are the * rags,’
1f not enough, I'll double!
So, thanks to Jack, I'm all right now,
But twas a lucky jump, sir;
For if it hadn’t been for him,
I'd been a ruined Pune, sir!
And now. by way of closing up,
I'll add a little moral :
Don't try to borrow from your friends,
If you don’t want to quurrel.
Especially a *“ man of ‘means,”’
Don’t trouble with your sorrow ;
For wealthy men are always poor
When poor] men want to borrow! -
A WEDDING IN WAR,
The following is a capital sketch from
the pen of Ileory Ward Beecher, who at-
tended the wedding he describes, in a New
England village :
A young soldier, just going to the wars,
meant to give to his girl the right to come
to him should he be sick or wounded. To-
morrow he leaves: To-night they must be
married. To Mr. Frank Briusmade’s we
posted. :fow came it to be here? The
young volunteer had got his * certificate ”’
of the town clerk, and he had stepped
across the street and told our friend that
the brave soldier was hinting for a minis-
ter. Just then, in stout, coarse, soldier’s
blue, came the man, and bis flower by side.
By one of those gencrous sympatlies that
seize good people, out ran a noble woman
to invite them to stop, and be married there;
gathered there for an evening’s singing,
there were a score of maidens ready to greet
the bride, aud many men to welcome the
bridegroom. No one had ever seen the
parties or knew aught of them. It was
enough that the man was going to fight for
the old flag. We looked in their faces and
were satisfied. The rooms were thronged.
The service proceeded and closed. Then
some one, unbidden,.but moved to do it;
began to sing, *“ Guide me, O, thou great
Jehovah ;”’ all joined. Then ‘‘ America”
and the “ Star Spangled Banner” were ad-
ded. Flowers were brought in for the young
wife—white day lillies and geranium leaves.
The dear, venerable mother of the neigh-
borhood and circle sat by the pale and pret-
ty child wife, giving her good cheer and
comfort, Little remembrances were sought
out for the guests, and an enthusiasm of
kindness filled the hours. ‘Thus two stran-
gers, at twilight, came riding into the town»
seeking a solitary wedding, i in order that on
the morrow, he going to war, she might
have 4 right to wear his name, These were
stopped; canght out of their vehicle, born
into arefined home, surrounded with scores of
loving hearts, all delicately offering service
and making then a wedding that for glow
and joy and gladness; few even of those
most favorsd, can give their own children.
Well, we have heard that New England
people were cold, without enthusiasm of
hospitality {
As the young husband and wite were
leaving, all gathered about the door yard
gite, and sang a parting hymn. So they
departed amid the pulsations of song, and
receded from our sight, The West glowed
very faintly. The stars were thick. The
day was done, and so was; our stay at the
godly town of Washington’!
| the labor of the black man.
and as several connected families were |}
(From the Louden Times.)
THE THUNDERER ON THE PROCLA-
: MATION,”
i — .
President Lincoln has declared that from
the 1st of January next to .come, every
State that is in rebellion shall be in the eye
of Mr. Lincoln a free State. After; that
date Mr. Lincoln proposes to enact that ev:
ery slave in a rebel State shall be forever
free, and he promises that neither he, nor
his army, nor his navy, will do anything to
repress any efforts which the pegroes in such
States may make for the recovery of ther
freedom. This means of course,; that Mr.
Lincoln will, on the first of next January, do
his best to excite a servile war in the States.
which he cannot occupy with his arms.—
He will run up the rivers in his gunboats ;
he will seek out the places which are left
but slightly guarded, and where the women
and children have been trusted to the fideli-
ty of colored domestics ; he will appeal to
the black blood of the African: he will
whisper of the pleasure of spoil, and of the
gratification of yet ficrcer instincts ; and
when blood begins to flow, and shrieks come
piercing through the darkness, he will wait
till the rising flames tell that ail is consuma-
ted, and then he will rob his hands and
think that revenge is sweet. This 1s what
Mr. Linccln avows before the world that he
is about to do. Now we are in Europe
theroughly convinced that the death of sla-
very must follow as necessarilly upon the
success of the confederates in this, war as
the dispersion, of darkness occurs upon the
rising of the sun. ; but forcible and sudden
and forcible emancipation emancipation, re-
sulting from the efforts of the negroes way
make for their actual freeeom, can only be
effecter by massacre and destruction. Mr
Lincoln avows, therefore, that he proposes
to excite the negroes of thy southern plant-
ations to murder the families of their as-
ters while these are engaged in the war.—
‘The conception of sucl' a crime is horrible.
The employment of Indians sinks toa level
with civilized warfare in comparisen
to it : the most detestable loctrines of Maz
zini are almost less atrocious. even Mr.
Lincoln's own recent achievements of burn.
ing by gunboats the defenceless villages on
the Mississippi are dwarfed by this gigantic
wickedness. The single thing to be said
for it is that it 18 a wickedness that holds
its head high, and scorns hypoerisy. It
does not pretend to attack slavery as slav-
ery. It launches this threat of servile re-
bellion a8 a means-¢f a war against certain
States, and accompanies it with a declaration
of general protection to all other s'avery.
What will the South think of this? The
South will answer with a hiss of scorn.—
But what wll the North think of it ?—
What will Pennsylvania say—Pennsylva-
pia which is already unquiet under the
loss of her best customers, and not easy
under the absolute despotism of the preseat
government at Washington, 2 What Boston
may say or think is not perhaps of much
consequence—but what will New York say?
It would not answer the purpose of any of
these ‘cities to have the South madea
howling wilderness. They want the hand-
ling of the millions which are produced by
Pennsylvania
desires to sell her manufactures in the south
New York wishes again to be broker, bank-
er and merchant to the South. This is
what the Union means to these two cities,
They would rather have a live independent
State to deal with thana dead dependency
where nothing could be earnt. To these
practical persons President Lincoln would be
after his black revolution had succeeded,
like a dog stealer who should present tbe
anxions owner with the head of his faverite
pointer. They want the useful creature al-
ive: The South witkout its cotton, and its
sugar, and its tobdgco, | would be of small
use to New York, or even to Philadelohia,
and the South without the produce of its
rice and cotton, and its sugar: and its to-
bacco, would be but a sorry gain, even il it
could be obtained. If President Lincoln
wants such a conquest as this, the North is,
perhaps yet strong ¢nough to conquer Mayti
A few fanatics of course will shout, but we
cannot think that, wn uttetr desperation
and vindictiveness, any real party
in the North will applaud this nefarious res-
olution to light up a servile war in ths dis-
tant hontestedds of the South.
As a proof of what the leaders of the
would do if they could, this is a very sad
document. As a preofof the hopelessness
and reckiessness which prompt their actions
1t is a very instructive document. But it is
not a formidable document, We gather
from 1t that Mr- Lincoln has lost all hope of
preserving the Union, and is now willing to
let any quack try his nosirum. As an
act of policy it is, if possible more contempt-
ible, than itis wicked. It may possibly
produce sore partial risings, for let any ar-
med power publish an exhortation to the
laboring class of any community to plunder
and murder, audthere will be some res-
ponse, It might happen in London, or Par-
is or New York. That Mr. Lincoln's em-
ancipation decrees will have any general eff-
ect Learing upon the issue of the war we do
not however believe. The negroes have al-
ready abundantly discovered that the tend-
er mercies of tie Northerners ate cruelties:
‘I'e freedom which is associated with labor
in the trenches, military disiplinc, and frank
avowals of personal abhorrence, momen tar-
illy repeated. does not commend itself to
the negra nature.
Gen. Butler could if he pleased tell strange
stories of the ill sucess of his, tamperings
with the negroes about New Orleans. We
do not think that even now, when Mr. Lin-
coln plays his last card, it will prove to be
a ramp. Powerful malignity is. a dreadfol
reality, but impotent malignity 18; apt to be
a very contemptible spectacle. Here ia &
sould be conqueror and a would be extir-
pator who is not quite sale in hig seat of
government, who is reduced tg such straits
that he accepts a defeat as a glorious escape,
a capitulation of 8,600 men 3s air unimpor-
tant event, a draw batide as s glorious vics
Lory, and the retreat of an invading army,
which retires laden with. plunder and nch
in stores, as a di livesanee.. Here is a Pres-
ident who has just against his will, supplied
his antagonists with,a hundred aud {wenty
guns and wiltons of stores, anl who
trembling: for the very ground on which he
stands. Yet if we judged only by his pom-
pous proclamation, we shoujd beljyve that
he had a garrison in. every. city of the south.
This 1s more 1 ke a chinaman beating his
two swords together to frighten his enemy
than like an earnest man, pragsing on his
cause in stead-fastness and trath.
Ar wl Lm
HORRIBLE TRAGEDY IN OH10.
On Friday last, a horrible trage dy occur-
red at Port Clinton, OQuaw a county, Ohio—
two young women, having been bratally
murdered, by a young map who afterwards
hanged himself. “The pasiinglers are as fol-
lows:
On Friday morning, Mr. J. Kirk, re-
siding at Part Clinton, left home on a visit,
with his wife and two small boys, leaving
the house in charge of twp daughters—Ale
ice, aged fifteen, and Amy, sged. eleven
vears, together with an adopted daughter,
Naomi Knight, sged eighteen. A young
man named Henry Riquarts, who had been
employed by Mr. Kirk during the summes,
was also left on the premises. Soon after
the departure of Mr. Kirk, Alice; the elder
daughter, left to have some wark done by
the dentist. She returned between one snd
two o'clock in the afternoon. anit found the
dinner table still standing, as if the two
zirls and the young man had eaten dinner,
but no person was in the house = She cail-
ed aloud for the girls but received no an-
swer. She searched for them in the barn,
bat without success, and on returning te
the byuse saw Riquartz coming from ome of.
the chambers. She inquired for the girls,
but he said he knew nothing about them. —
An hour passed, but they came not. Alice
went again, to the barn, where Riquartz was,
tnt he replied as before. They both return-
ed to the house together, when R quarts
bundled up bis clothes and left.
When night came and the girls had not r -
turned, Alice went to look for them, and met
Riquartz. who then:told her he had seem
them &t their uncle's house at the willage,
and they would soon be home; Alice went
back to the house, and at the suggestion of
Riquarts, she lit a tire to prepare for supper
after which she said she would go and ae-
oompany the girls home. -
Riquartg immediately* grasped her by the
throat and strangled her until she. became
uneonseicus,, lle then bound her hand and
foot, and remarked that he did not desire to
murder her, but only wanted to place her in
such a condition that she could not alarm
the ueighbors until he had killed himself,
then telling her that the other girls *‘would
never come back”! bid her good bye and
then left the house. ; 4.
He was met at ihe door,by » woman who
was going to the house on an errand, and who
asked him, where the three girls were.
replied, up in tho chamber. Un entering,
she found Alice bound as described. released
her, and the two started tolalarm the wil-
lage. .
By this Hue it was between five and six
o'clock. The people of the village came and
began the search, when Riguariz was found
hanging in the bar n, Waving been dead about
half an hout! Farther search was rewarded
uy the discovery of the bodies of the two
girls in the granary, it being evident that
Riquartz had ravjshed them and then s'ran-
gled them by learner bands around their
necks, The younger girl had her hands
behind her back. .
The deed was probably’ committed just
alter the girls had got their “dinner, and it
North in their passion snd ther despair. | “PPT thet sfier the lagedy had. lwen
done, the murderer had gone to the house
and eaten his own dinner. An inquest was
held on the bodies, and a verdict rendered
in secordunce with the above fact.
lees
A peposit of gypsuni, one hundred and
filty acres in extent, and equal to the best
Nova Scotia article, has been discovered
within sixty rods of Tawns Bay, Saginaw
county, Michigan. It is pure white plas-
ter, and the bed has been bored into fitteen
or twenty feet without going through. It
ean qe mined for Ely. cents per ton.
—e
Prairie fires are causing much damage in
various parts of Kansas, by the destruction
of crops, &. A family of six persons was
burned to death or suffocated on the prairie,
in Anderson county, on Tuesday last.
Ler "ed Marcu: —0ld John Browns so a.
8 marching on.and the Republican party is
marching after it. “Everybody knows
where to. A safe journey and a long stay
to the beauties.
He