u : : r. szzzz. I i, 'i'pittR Ld,tor and rub,ullcr HE IS A FREEMAN WHOM THE TRUTH MAKES FREE, AND ALL ARE SLAVES BESIDE Terms, per year lu advance VOLUME 5. EBENSBURG, PA, THURSDAY, SEPT. 7, 1871. NUMB KR 31. i1 f ii - m" -- - ., , -sllll "-T. MFTCMF "wtiiiiu ... i? 1 1 IIHMK MM 1 I 1 'I w- ffBlOi.l ACADEMY, lPOlKlXi SilKtOI. Jolt HOTS. V.i, l.-i-' . !'--i:'s .cft. 6tb. Mnr loro been prepared for --.. Ml'l 1 'nr hoarilintr, wash i inn in all tin branches itii CiT.'uari, fc.tio; or . I'm terms, locution, . s" ii,l fur a circular. carat ' n ll ST" "N I". 1M !.. i ,'. A.M., ( j.'j.l'A'nn;-.'.- Principals. o:jiiioril I n s t i - '.Mil. Preparatory to lie Schools. 17. S. Mili--. Fall session, thirty Fur catalogues, etc.. jyi' YU! V' .( r 1 1' lT' i i !!if i": i:i" i ; t. l: (,HTS!OV ( i 1 Institute. A frond 1 lor you mr men and n :: !! .ar- ii!i.- .-! 'Mv'nil- ' itAUXAM.!: -!...-'" rid .-ir:M -lrcular. Iter. I'rio-it:'.!, Hi:,'htstown, X.J. P :-!i" - ti' 1 "! ediicat Inti-i! ndvanffttjes. . i'.-'r v. itii a liii'init home. Hoard and i-...,-r var. For catalogues, address '.. ii. la k'i:i.i:v, I'h. ! SCBCOLEnKCUraHSERIINiSY f .;i;s. !s. , t !. roiij.li and superior School '.ii' n : i'.ii:" ii." i-l-itti stsion iipens Sept. i-:.'"i:,v'. I.. I. .-i " TF.MU" UGH. Principal ..j.jV M.isMitaiti .-'r;ii;-'. New Jersey. l : V;.;;. v col s;i.!.!r.V. I.. i'ire. Annville, Vi. For cat 1 i . 11 a mmo.n u, A.M., l'res't. ue Farms, with Mills ntid - ov.ner. 1UCIF1) IHliV, hiiioinl, Viririnia. r K..u:-!r.-. . 1 '...ij.('i.ry :; rl, i! i s it i:nsnx's FAMILY LluUOR CASES ! ( )ue IJott: e of &:'.r: AT c-: i:ara!:t-i-i 1 t i i J. J!.iii:x!;i: 1 of the verv I!--' omility. Ai'i;.v jhlla::s. - i .'.()., or l'ost-olll'-c or'lor. ;si N, 1" Uroad Pt .'iv York. ifcEXT W AMHI) for the A TRANSMISSION OF LIFE. Cc"-r.i-on i m: N vtihe ant 11 Vgif.ne op HtM'I'MNK IVV i I" IN. I!.v DilNapheys, i:' r-1 "TV.- '' '.iV' l.iunf ionutn." It re j,s ;,,(,. ,,r', ... , ; is full of new facts; deli s'.t lilt 'ii!-"-k n ; )iaet:eal and popular; :v:iv cr.'l"r-e i : i-l!s rapidly. Sold by sul--.;i;nn iiily. F.vi lnsixe territory. Terms -r;i,. )' Address for contents, etc., :.G .TKUi, l S ,v ( i ).. Publishers, Pliiladelpbia. AGENTS! READ THIS! UKWII.I. I'AV K.KXTS A SAI.tKY "0KV10 1 It U l-KK mH KT.,mcw. - - - i' - II! -I-Hllll to sell our new and 1 t '.'"...Viir.-l".iil. us. dare M. W'ACiXEll M."li. ?:ii). W I IVTj PAY J53. U To sell our jrreat and valu II you wiint permanent, bon- m:!- : i.-r -I'ii- , - , ( , i V, jl M mi .'ill i;inbYKi: ni., Jackson, Mjehi-f ill! 1 I h t work. ajplv for particulars. Xevvs paper crtismir. J 'HS, iin 1 f !(! r; icii jiri i-onnprninir t ho lfnd- ? I'aii) Hn.i Weekly Plitifi tand Family " I-.u . i r-;. trt thT with 11 thow linvinir 11 niv. jjha IUIUI 1 I J I T :.-'T. and ( V t -r T-rr-j-ti n.- In-i. rTtmTil jtl "iiuiL- such, will tind this book of rreat Maiii'd fn e to iinv address on rerint of ""t'N.s. dKll. I. uotl'i.'l.l. J- rii V''r- N'.-1'' Park Row, New York. ' 1,1,Ni'"i'-'!i Pa.) I.ertih-r, in its isiie of '";';.'" " " "The tirm tit O. P. Kowell'& t i i j thi-j interest inir and valuabla 1 th' u:'- ,.iu,-t and best Advert isintr Asren ' ii. ' '! States, and we 'an cIkhtI ully Ti';:iin. tfi'l'l ii to th' Httention of thos who de- ! 1 i -I ' I 1: l-i p 1 1 1 1 si iwiua kfil'lll llW'llllr ji-m:i:i.j,nv in such away: that is, ;' ' i -lire the larirest amount of publicity '" inimire or money.' BROTHERS, Si l l F.SSOItS TO 15- WOLFF, Jr., &C0., L:-.:, ,rtt-i. ainl Drillers in At the old well known Sta'iL :r. Liberty & Sixth (late St. Clair) Sts. MTTSIU'UUII. IA.. '' ivin-r n full assortment of TTard I ill and winter traile. tur recent icT l-i iv..l 1 1 . 1. h:u ii:-.-- 'Iiahii-.i , - - """" i-iji-iv, c T. ' "IU1 jiii TIUI- NEW LINE of GOODS, ' AT lKK F.NT lMtlCES. and which we nrp ntthe InuoKt itsiltl ratii. "-ii an nueii called to our Large Variety of ' llrtrilirarr. -i'Ji " i:tur'il Imph innitK. TuUf ami l'i );, t ( utlrrii. T;, , i nuim, fwif)ti JSCUS, AC. "'" ral r.rnr. . , . . i' (. I V mime with Peddlers, :i ui- it. '.,,., .ri:e niane'l to all l)i tlers mi lor one: auL'.10.-'m 1 holesmTboots and shoes. If. CHILDS loots aisd AT VERY LOW PRICES, AT H. CHILDS & COS, 133 WOOn STREET, PITTSBURGH. 'A 'i'lf ?to k of Ifailc'1 Uropans, for Miners Wi,,?,'!.'1.0 to 20cents per pair below the iinu ket rates. fJulv 27. tsri -t, i . en, consmnuy (in hand. whiV h - . - "-...j WESTERN GUN WORKS. Double and Singls Karrrl. Hill.- 'Vioi, Revolvers, Ammunition. V. i-!'!.(.'l. Kiflo Ilarrels, Loekx. Mount. , to.'i'lrcsJ V ! 'V"U- u,r I'rice List, lV.V ''''H.VSTON, Grent W'tstern tiun -'I tMiiithtieid street, Pittsburgh, Pa. Wto ,,' ,rVly ('a-''rt8. Itiflea and UeTel ""Jbur'.h c";tri")-' for. urk'h. june 17, m.-m. ' . I'tiii : I i 111! 3. ' U.,I V . . . tt B Written for the Cambria Freeman. TO LAl'Rl K . BT J. GILL1SPIE toxAiilf: Thou hast Bhed the dew and fragrance of Thy young and sinless years upon my heart, And all that once was there so dark and drear, lias turned to blossoms beautiful and bright ! The holj influence of thy rapturous love, Like sunshine gleaming from a tropic sky, IIs nursed the fading flowers within my soul Till they have turned to shining wreaths of love. I sit beneath the elm ree's shade thhf hour, And as the stars, like eves of angels, ope Within yon far mysierioua realm en high. So thoughts of thee do spring up in my soul To make the darkness and the storm go out. Each star within night's glorious coronet, Each flower that opes its petals to the dew, EhcIi leaf that waves within the twilight air, Each' bird that flutters to its grassy nest Bears fome sweet resemblance of thy gentle Klf t This gentle wind that lifts the pale flower up From steaming rock or m'ossy laden bank, lias tones of music and of passion love, Such as thy lips have whispered in mine ear When we together strayed through wood and wild, And talked of other days to come, when life Would be a sweet, eternal spring, whose flowers Would never fade. TilC TWO VOICES. Id a certain small village there lived a Very poor man, a basket-maker, named Hans. He lived quite alone, in a mean little hut, which was his only property. lie had no wife nor children to love and comfort him, lor he was too poor to mar ry, and his old bedridden mother had died, und left htm all alone. Hans misss ed her very much, and left very lonely, working day after day, wit!) no one to "ivo him acheerins word. But his moth Or had taught him to be industrious and conttnted, eo be worked steadily on, though he scarcely earned enough to keep the wolf from the door. Huns might have grown old and gray, wiihout indulging any vain longings for a better condition, but unluckily he saw the miller's pretty daughter, and fell in love with her bright eyes and pleasant voice, and thought how nice it would be to have her to cheer his lonely home. But Hans knew well it was as much as he could do to iind food and clothes for one, so he was obliged to see the miller's daughter walk to church with rich farmer Trenck. This state of things made poor Hans very unhappy. 1 am as comely and 3-oung as farmer Trenck," said Hans to himself, "and if I only had money, who knows what might happen." Then he fell, to thinking how to gel the gold he coveted, and these thoughts kept him awake when he should have been usleep, and kept htm idle when he oupht to have been working. It happened one day when IIan3 went out to cut some rushes for his baskets, that as he stooped down, with his knife in hand, he saw a leather wallet lying among the reeds. He dropped his knife, and seized the wallet. It was very heavy, and aa he turned it over in his baud a bright gold piece fell out into his palm. Hans felt as if his heart stopped beating. He rubbed his eyes to be sure he was not dreaming, and then looked around to see it any one was near. jui nououy was in sight, and he sat down on a green bank, and counted out the bright gold piece?, one by one, and then dropped them back again into the leathern bag, thinking all the time that the chink of the precious metal was the sweetest music he had ever heard. There was ninety-one gold pieces in the wallet, and as Hans, after counting them o'er and o'er twenty times, finally tied the 6tring tightly about the bag, he heard a delicate little voice close to bis ear say : "What are you going to do with the money, Hans V Poor Hans started op in affright, for he thought that some' one had been watch in" him all the time. He looked all around but could sec nothing, when again the voice repealed "What are you going to do with the money, Hans t It is not yours." Again Hans looked about him, and now he saw seated on his right shoulder a small but beautiful creature, with silver wings and bearing a star on its forehead, which cast a bright radiance all around. Before he could recover from his surprise, so as to reply to the question, another voice, very unlike the fir6t, and sounding as though it came through a brazen lube, answered for him: 'Hans will keep the money, to be sure; he found it, and it is his." "He has no right to keep what belongs to another," answered the silvery voice. "How does he know the real owner? ' said the brazen voice. "Whoever dropped it considers it lost. Hans is a poor man, and this is a piece of good luck which he ought not to throw away." While this dialogue between the two voices was going on, Hans, looking to ward his left shoulder, he beheli a small, dark form, enveloped in a sort of dazzling haze that prevented him from sceinw its outline with distinctness. It was not a bright, silvery light like that from the spirit of the silver voice, but a sort of lurid glare like the reflection from molten copper yet there was something strongly facinating in its brightness which tempted one to look again. "Who are ye both that thus dispute about my affairs t" ho asked. of the Shadowless, advice shall never commit sin or know despair," answered the star-crowned figure on his right shoul der. "And men call mc the voice of the shadow, whoso followeth me 6hall have riches in plenty and a life of joy," an swered the brazen tone, with a harsh laugh. Hans cast down his eyes in thought, and there, on the green sward, rested the shadow of the brazen one, a dark, un shapely thing, portraying his true form divested of the dazzling glare, and twice the size of the figure itself. Hans started and trembled ; there was no shadow nar the figure on his right, but a soft light lay shimmering on the grass the light from her silver wings. "Pooh, pooh, man ; never be afraid of a shadow," said the brazen tone, jeering ly ; that is the best proof you can have that I am a real, tangible being, and ready to serve you. The words of the shadow less are all very well for ordinary occa sions, but at a time like this listen to me." "What shall I do with the wallet?" asked Hans ; "I don't want to keep it if it is dishonest ; I could not bear to be a thief." "Never call yourself, hard names," btj swered the brazen tone. "The act of finding and of stealing arc two diflereut things The facts are these : Somebody loses a purse ; you are fortunate enough to find it ; therefore, it is your own, of course, to do with as you like." "Not so," interrupted the Shadowless. "The money must have a proper owner, and it is the duty of Hans' fo discover him, if possible, and restore it to him ; that is what he will do as an honest man." Hans winced at these words, and the Shadow, seeming to perceive that he had gone too far, replied : "Well, there is no harm at least, in Hans taking the wallet home with him, and thinking it over awhile; it will be much safer in his chest than lying out here in the weeds." This suggestion pleased Hans ; but the Shadowless spoke: "Do not listen to the tempter, Hans, but take the money at once to the Justice and tell him all about it. If once within your grasp, you know not to whit you may be tempted perhaps even to steal." Hans was offended at this implied doubt of his honor, so he said, angrily, "Do you think me a child, that I cannot be trusted ? I choose to take the wallet home, and I will " "Hans, Hans," murmered the silver voice, imploringly, "drive me not from you by wilful obstinacy ; know me as ycur true friend, and trust me, all will be well at last." A pang went through the heart of Hans, at these words, and he was just about yielding when the Shadow said "How childish your fears are ; what, afraid to trust yourself, one night with a little bag of gold ? I thought you were more of a man. Suppose you had not found the wallet to-day, it would have laid among the reeds all night. -Is it not in realitv, mnch safer with you? You can carry it to the justice to-morrow." These specious words decided Hans, and the soft, imploring voice of the Shad owless was no longer heard. He arose and went toward his house attended by the voice of the Shadow, who kept sound in in his ear the praises of hi9 manliness. Hans observed that the shadow on the crass was larger than before, and he IT thought it hid the sonlight ; but the voice of flattery sounded sweeter in his ear, and the lurid lieht hoverins on his shoulder dazzled him ; so he went on, not heeding that the skimmerlng light had gone from his oath and that the itar.crowned form sat drooping, dimmed and silent. When Hans arrived at his cottage he carefully barred the door, a thins he bad never done before, and then once more spread the glittering gold out upon the board be- fore him, and counted them one by one. "There are just ninety-one pieces," whispered the Shadow, "one piece would buy you a coat. Don't you think you deserve something for finding the wallet, Hans?" Hans listened, but said nothing. He was thinking that if he had a new coat, he micht walk to church with the y j miller's pretty daughter ; but the people would wonder where he got the new coat It seemed B9 if the Shadow knew hii thoushts and went on- "You might go to the town, you know, and perhaps there might be something owin? to vou. who knows. The coat is bou-iht with money owed to you, eh, Hans ? and then on Sunday,- when Trenck mmon Hlonfr. he will nave to stand on one siue; ana iook, nuw, iuciu one tuuico , II I . I. -I,- j Hans looked up, and there she went, sure enough, looking more blooming than ever. "You can replace the piece when you earn it, and restore the wallet then ; no one knows when you found it," urged the Shadow. Hans sighed heavily ; and then he took op the bright pieces and dropped them in the bag, all save one. that he kopt upon the table. "Thou shalt not steal." murmered the silver voice, but now the tone was as faint a9 a dying echo, and the brazen tone drowned it at once with a loud laugh, and the inquiry "Who talks of stealing ? Hans bor rows the piece awhile, and hurts no one by it." It was now dark, aud Hans threw him "I am tha Voice whoso followed my self on the bed, after carefully locking up the bag of gold in his chest, and hiding the one piece beneath his pillow, His sleep was restless and disturbed ; and early tho next morning, unrefreshed, but determined, and not daring to question himself, he arose, took the gold piece, and hastened away to the adjoining town. The tailor, who knew Hans well, look ed surprised, when Hans offered the piece of gold, but he believed him when he said it was money long owed to him ; and fit ting him with a handsome coat with bright buttons, handsomer even than farmer Trenck's. The morrow was Sunday, and the voice of the Shadow whispered of triumph in the new coat, but, despite all he could say, a dark pall seemed thrown over all things, and the fearful shadow on the grass increased fearfully, while ever and anon the silver voice of the Shadowless murmured, "Hans, art thou doing well?" until at last, in an agony, he reached his home, and, not daring to look at his new coat, threw himself on his bench, and the dark shadow lay crouched at his feet. Thus the day woie on unheeded by Hans, when a neighbor suddenly stopped at his door and cried : "Hast heard the news, Hans? The miller was robbed the night before last when coming from market ; he was knocked down and his wallet taken from him before his two men came up ; the robbers fled ; he has posted a reward for the thief. It is a great loss of a certain ty, ninety-one heavy gold pieces ; a for tune for a poor man, Hans. Hans sat motionless, and the neighbor supposing mm busy, passed on. Hour after hoar wore away, and Hans 6at gaz ing on the wall, when the voice of the thadow roused him. "Come, Hans, be man," it said confidently, "it is all or nothing now ; no one will ever Euspect you of having the money. If the robber is caught so much the better. I suppose he fluns the wallet aside for fear of de tection, meaning to return for it again. The miller is rich, and by and by when you open a eiiop lor yourself, you win marry his daughter, and thus you see all will be returned to him four-fold. Come, cheer up ; I'll show you some of the things that will be. Ioik up." Hans looked up and on the white wash ed wall beheld what seemed to be three places like big picture frames, in the first of which, seen by the lurid glare the shad ow cast upon it, was a group of figures. Hans looked earnestly saw himself in the handsome new coat on his arm the miller's pretty daughter, who smiled on him, while the old father looked on pleas ed, and farmer Trenck walked sullenly alone. Han's heart beat high, and look ed at the second, he saw a church and bridal party. The groom and bride were himself and the miller's daushter. How his heart stood still with ecstacy, still he looked at the third, and there in a lofty room, will) carvings ana cosuy iurnuure, he beheld .1 matron surrounded by bloom in" children ; it was the miller's daughter and seated at a table at the other side of the room, appeared the figure of himself, dressed in the robes of a justice, and ap peared writing. Hans shuddered. The scene recalled the present too vividly, and the shadow hastened to throw a dazzling light over it to hide it from view, when suddenl)' the voice of the Shadowless spoke this time loud and distinctly. "Look once more, Hans." And Hans did look, and now the hor rid glare was gone, and seen in the silvery light of the star of the Shadowless, he be held himself pale, haggard and fearful, with the miller'3 daughter on his arm, while before him went the fearful Shadow, larger and more fearful than ever. He trembled. At the second picture, the bridal party was here, but a black pall covered everything, and the fearful shad ow filled the church with its presence. At the third he saw himself and all the group about him completely wrapped ift its fearful gloom, and the face of the mil ler's daughter wan and faded, and himself seen in that silvery light of truth he scarce ly recognized, bo changed, and terrible had his faco become. Hans covered his face. 'You have now seen the visions of the false by tho light of the true, said the Shadowless, 'Look once more and be hold the truth itself. And Hans looked once more and beheld the former visions swept away, and then saw the judgment hall, and himself the prisoner accused of high-way robbery, and sentence about to be pronounced upon him. Hans bowed his head in agony aud cried : 'Oh ! star-crowned spirit guide me and keep me from temptation,' and at that word the dark form vanished ; the shadow was gone from before him, and in its place was the soft clear shimmering light from the silvery wings of the Shadowless. Hans looked up, it was early dawn ; but the sun-light seemed brighter to him, and a halo to rest upon the hills. He arose, and, prompted by the bright form that no longer rested upon his shoulder but nestled in his bosom, he took the new coat from its hiding place, and unlocking his chest, took out the bag of gold, he shuddered when he touched it, and looked about him involuntarily, fearing to met the Shadow,but the silver voice said cheer fully : "Fear nothing, Hans, while I am next thy heart he caunot harm thee.' And so encouraged he stepped boldly out. There was 00 one stirring at (hat early hour, but the silver light made a bright path before him. The tailor had just risen and much astonished was be when Hans returned the coat, and begged the gold should be restored ; and telling him how he had found the miller's gold,- and how he had been tempted ; the tailor was a just man, and did as Hans desired ; and then accompanied Hans to the justice's house. As they came near it, they saw quite a crowd assembled who, when they saw Hans, shouted: 'There he is himself; we have got him ;' and they seized him as they spoke. 'So it was you who robbed the miller,' they cried; 'we found your knife among the rushes. But Hans looked down and saw the Shadowless spirit resting in his bosom, and thus replied : 'Not so, my friends ; come with mc and learn all, and he passed on undaunted to the justice hall. And there before the justice Hans told his story, and the men showed the knife, and the miller told how he had been robbed ; then Hans stood up and placed the bag of gold on the table, told- hovr he had found it, and how he had been tempt ed by the Shadow, arid as he went on and described the v;sion he had seen, every one co old see bis love lor the miller s daughter. He told how the Shadowless had shown the pictures in their true light, and as he spoke the silver wings of the etar-crowned spirit in his bosom shone with new lustre ; and the clear, soft light spread until it filled the justice hall, and fell upon Hans' faco like a glory and it entered the hearts of all who heard him, and with one voice they pronounced bim innocent, and more than this, the miller took him home that day, and in the new coat the miller paid for, Hans walked to church beside the miller's daughter ; and not many Sundays after there was a brid al celebration in the little church. No dark hadovv was there, but, instead, the clear, soft silver light from the wings of the Shadowless floated like incense around them and when years had passed, Hans, the. miller was, with his wife and children, called the happiest family in the town. It was the same silver spirillight that brightened their dwelling, because the star-crowned Shadowless now made her home in the heart of each, and to her they dedicated the fireside altar of their home. It was the Spirit of Truth. And the Shadow of Temptation to Sin. A fiUAMKK DETCCTIVD. A STOKY OF THE KOAD. We were five passengers in all ; two la dies on the back seat, a middle-aged gen tlemen, a Quaker, and myself on the front. The two ladies might have been mother and daughter, aunt and niece, governess and charge, or might have sustaiued any other relationship which makes it proper for two ladies to travel together unat tended. The middle-aged gentleman was spi iaht ly and talkative, and soon struck up an acquaintance with the ladies, to whom, in his zeal to be agreeable, he rather over did it bowing, smiling, and chattering in a most attentive manner. Hi was ev idently a gay Lothario. The Qiaker wore his usual drab of his sect, and con fined bis speech, as many an M. P. would save his credit by doing, to simple "yeas" and "nays." As for myself, I make it an invariable rule of the road to be mere a looker-on and listener. Towards evening I was aroused frora one of those reveries into which a young man, without being either a poet or a lover, will sometimes fall by the abrupt query from the talkative gentleman : "Are you armed, sir?" "I am not," I replied, astonished, no doubt, visibly at the question. "I am sorry to hear ii," be said ; "for before reaching our stopping place it will be nearly midnight, and we lfiust pass over a portion of the road on which more than one robbery is reported to have been committed." The ladies turned pale, but the stranger did Lis best to reassure them. "Not that I think there is the slightest danger at present," he resumed ; "only when one is rcsponible for the safety of ladies, you know such a thing as a pistol in one's confidence. Your principles, my friend," he said, addressing the Quaker, "I presume, are as much opposed to car rying as to using deadly weapons," "Yea," was the response, "Have the villiana murdered any of their victims " inquired the elder lady nervously. "Or have they contented themselves with with plundering them ?" added the younger, in a timorous voiee. "Decidedly the latter," the amiable gentleman hastened to give assurance ; "and as we are none of us prepared to of fer resistance in case of attack, nothing worse than robbery can befall us. Then, after blaming his thoughtlessness in having unnecessarily introduced a dis agreeable subject, the gentleman quite ex celled himself in his efforts to raise the spirits of the company, and succeeded so well by the time night set in that all had quite forgotten their fears or only remem bered them to laugh at them. Our genial companion fairly talked himself hoarse. Perceiving which, he took from his pocket a package of newly invented "cough candy," and after pass ing it first to the ladies he helped himself to'tho remainder, and tossed the paper out of the window. He was in the midst of high encomi ums of the new nostrum, mure than half the efficacy of which, he insis:ed, depend ed on its being taken by suction, when a sshii'l whistle was heard, and immediately the co.ifch stopped, and two faces, hide ously blackened, presented themselves, one at each window. "Sorry to trouble you," stid the man on the right, acknowledging with a bow two lady-like screams from the back seat ; 'but 'business is business' and ours will soon be uver if things go smoothly." "Of courte, gentleman, you spare, as far as may be consistent with your disa greeable duty, the feelings of these ladies? ' appealed tho polite passenger, in his bland est manner. v "Oh, certainly," wa3 the reply ; "they shall be first attended to, and shall not be required to leave their places or submit to a search unless their conduct render it necessary." "And, now ladies," continued the rob ber, the barrel of his pistol gleaming in the light of the coach lamp, "be so good as to pass out your purses, watches, and such other trinkets as may lw accessible without much trouble." The ladies came down handsomely, and were not lurther molested. One by one the rest of us were com pelled to get out, the middle aged gentle man's turn coming first. He submitted with a winning grace, and was robbed like a Chesterfield. "My own affair, like the sum I lost, was scarcely worth mentioning. The Quaker's turn came next. He quietly handed over his pocket-book and watch and w hen asked if he had any other val uables said, "Nay." A Quaker's word is good, even among thieves; so, after a hasty good night the robber thrust his pistol into his pocket, and with his two companion?, one of whom held the reins of the leaders was about to lake his departure. "Stop !" exclaimed the Quaker, in a tone more of command than request. "Stop! what for?'' returned the other in evident surprise. "For at least two cool reasons," wa.s the reply, emphasized with a couple of pistols cocked and presented. "Help !" shouted the robber. "Stop !" again exclaimed the Q iaker, "and if one of thy sinful companions ad vances a step to thy relief, the Fpirit will surely move me to blow thy brains out." The robber at the opposite window, and the one at the leader's head's thought it a good time to leave. "Now get in fiiend," said the Quaker still covering his man, "and take the mid dle seat ; but first deliver up the pistol." The other, however, hesitated. "Thee had better not delay," said the Quaker ; "I feel the spirit beginning to move my right forefinger." The robber did as he was directed, and the Quaker then took his place by my side, giving the new-comer the middle seat. The driver, who was half frightened out of bis wit?, now set forward at a rapid rate. The lively gentleman soon re covered his vivacity, and was e?pecial!y facetious on the Quaker's prowess; but, the Quaker, relapsing into his usual mon osyllables, the conveisalion Magged. Time sped and, earlier than we expect ed, the coach stopped where we were to have suoner and a chance of horses. We had deferred a redistribution of our ef fects till we should reach this place, as the dim light of the coach lamp would have rendered the process somewhat dim cult before. It was now necessary, how ever, that it should be attended to at once, as our jovial companion had previously announced his intention of leaving us at this point. lie proposed a postponement till after supper, which ho offered to go and order. "Nay," urged the Q iaker, with sud den abruptness, and laying his hand on the other's arm, " 'business before pleas ure,' and for business there is no time like the present. Will thee be good enough to search the prisoner?" he said to me, still keeping his hand in a friendly way on the passenger's arm. I did !o, btit not one of the stolen ai ti des could be found. "He must have gotten rkl of them in the coach," suggested the gay gentleman, and immediately offered to go in search. "Stop !" thundered the Quaker, tight ening his grasp. The man turned pale, and struggled to release his arm. In an instant one of the pistols was leveled at his heart. "Stir a hand or foot, and you are a dead man !" said the Quaker, who must have been awfully excited so to forget both the language and the principle of his persua sion. Placing the ether pistol in my Land, with directions to firo on the first of the two men that made a suspicious move ment, the Quaker went to work on Loth ario, from whose pockets, in less time than it takes to tell it, he produced eve ry item of the missing property, to the utter amazement of the ladies, who had beTun in no measured terms to remonstrate against the shameful treatment the gen tleman was receiving. The Quaker, I need scarcely add, was no Quaker at all, but a shrewd detective, who had been set on the track of a band of desperadoes, of whom our middle-aged friend who don't look nearly so middle aged with his Yfii off was the chief. Tho robbery had been adroitly planned. The leader of the gans had taken posses sion of a scat in the coach, and after learn ing, as he supposed, our defenceless con dition, had given the signal to his com panions by throwing out the bit of paper already mentioned. After the unexoect ed capture of the first robber, an attempt was made to save the booty by secretly passing it to the accomplice, still believed lo be uususpcc.ed, who tojuted on being able to make off with it at the next stop ping place. The resiilt was that both for a season "did the State some service." Tiia: roiso.K ricurLEV A Til KILLING STORY. Loud mirth and wassail resounded throughout the subterranean hall ; and the rude revelers, seated at numerous small tables, feasted right meriily.- The storm raged fearfully without, and the houseless wanderer, cur ;n the ele- mentsand bis impecuniosity, hied to some friendiy station house for shelter. Hat tho banquet went on. From out a polished reservoir of tin pomed forth rich streams of the enlivening fluid made from burnt beans, white mound? of but tered cukes found their way down It" gaping gullets of the hungry consumers. 'Twasa coffee and cake cellar in Nas sua street. The unkempt waiter, in saffron-colored" linen and a bad cold affected his speech aud made his nose run. rushed hither and thither, responding to numerous culls, al most frantic ; for some of those demands were sarcastic some even injuriously abusive. Say, Nosey, whj' don't yer go and let yersclf to a soap-biler s -n-y ?' 'Cup o coffee and nine doughnuts !' 'Plate o' beans, and don't stop to count a bloody bean !' 'Slice o' bread cut with a haramy knifo to give it a flavor !' Three cent plate o' fiiad liver, wid sitf knives and forks !' 'Large pair of nippers to haul dis 'ere cockroach out of my coffee !' With such ebullitions of playful wit did the jocund revelers beguile the mid night hours." Most of these facetious- knaves were newsboy?, waiting for the morning editions ; but here and there sat a jour printer in frowning silence, getting away with his 'luudgeon, or a ghastly re porter or sub editor hung dreamily over his repast, wit-Ling himself abed. Per chance, too, some bummer, looming in a remote corner, glared savagely upon tho viands he could not ?hare, and endeav ored to escape the eagle eye of the land lord, who might have booted him from that festal halt had he seed the stampless outcast. Suddenlly, there entered a noble stran ger, who shook the rain-drops from hi doublet and surveyed the sxene with calm disdain. The scorn of the man was terrible; it withered, choked floored ; it bounded Iron his lightning eyes like a crushing curse. All present quailed. Silence reigned. The stranger was attired in the picture usque costume of a Mulberry St. bandit slouched hat, patched pants, soleless boots and no shirt. A sardonic smile wi3 frozen on his lips and both his eyes were in mourning. Flinging himself heavily into a seat, he smote ihe table thrice wiih his n. ailed hands for a rag covered his knuckles, after some street broil. The waiter stood on his guard, and tho landlord counted his pewter spoons. 'Slaves !' cried ihe stranger, in a tone of terrific ihunder 'dost thou know me ? Ha, ha ! I am the Skulking Pilferer of the Sixth Ward, and my name is Jla- j ginnis ! Go-and ask the first policeman- you meet, and he will, with white lips, tell of my deeds. Many a fence have I scaled to puiloin damp lkien fiom a clothes line many a reclining sneezer have I gone through : from many a crippled beggar have 1 wrenched ihe last coin- Ye shall know me, and fear me, too! 1'et I am but human, and would eat. Me thinks, as my funds are low, I could munch a cracker and a pickle. Laggards, bestir yoursehes, or with this knightly hand wiil I wipe you ever the jaw !' The food was brought, and the strang er ate with voracity, ever and anon look ing at the door as if he designed to sneak out without paying, 'Thou art a blower !' exclaimed a hoarse voice, from unseen lips. The stranger arose. And a fraud V The stranger insane wifh fary, moveil toward the door. And a beat !' The stranger threw open the door and looked wildly at the tempest, as if invok ing the powers of darkness to crush hi defamer. And a gin head !' This was too much. The strarger, with a maniac howl, rushed out of the hall and was soon lost in the gloom of nigl4. "A put-up job,' muttered the landlord, gazing ruefully at the empty plates 'it was a scurvy trick. No matter ; ho shall pay for this. I suspected bim, and puS pizen in the pickle. The landlord went on washing the dish es with a thoughtful face ; and deep si lence reigned. What relatives ought to make the best pedestrians? Step sous.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers