Amnkan BYJOHNB. BRATTON, YGL. U. THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEER: U published every Thursday, at Carlisle, Pa., by JOHN B BRATTON, upon the following conditions,which will rigidly adhered to: 1 • tkrkb or toosOnirTioß. Foroneyear, madosnce, , . , . ' . •$2 OJJ Per six months, In advance, - . . •1 O u No subscription taken for a less term than six roonthKann no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages oropaid. Twenty-ttve per c«nl.ad.liti«oal6n IhbpiJceofßubßcriptlod will bo required of all those who do not pay In advance. RATES Of ADVERTISING. One square, ono insertion, . * One «narc, two insertions, ; , O.io square, throe Insertions,'. • Every subsequent Insertion, per square, A liberal •liacaunt will be made to those who advertise by he year, or for three or six months. Omc*.—The office of the American Volunteer la in the sec ond story of James 1L Graham's new stoneimilding. in South Hanoyer street, a few doors from tlurkholder’s hotel, nnd dl rectly opposite the Post-office, where those having husioess will please cal). : « poetical. THE BRIDE’S APPEAL* BY L. ». JOUNfOK. Ob! will tlmu love me, when the raven curls- That o'er my hoaom flow. Shall be hound with the silver thread of ago Lika Winter’s hoary snow 7, Wilt love me when the Mummer's rosy smiles, - *•' £nhue my cheek no more; And yon bright.beacon-stars am veiled ill clouds And dreams ofyuulli are o'er? c Oh! wilt than love me, when tho changeful eyes Gruw dim with Wmw’s rain— - The It mom trialing thy own. So fall with care and pain? , Wilt love me-when th * thrilling thoughts of youth In blushing Idoofti depart? - And sonnw'rdark corroding chills of pain. ■ Are prosing on my heart? Aa rosc-huds bloom when sunny spring comet round And warmly smiles again; ' A# ahr.ihs, low fainting in the noon-lido heat, Revive in summer rain; As home bound sailors, welcuim*’breezesfrlr To waft them to tholr goal; My wearied, drooping spirit turns to thee, Star of my trusting.soul! Remember, none have ever, ever known This heart so light and frea; ■ None other with a fruitless step has press’d its inmnatsbailes (nil thuo! Than will thou love me when the roverj curls' That o'er my bosom flow, - Shall be b bind with the silver tbroads of age. Like Winter's,hoary snow 7 jf&tareltoncoug. HAND AND GLOVED tiV rim, rmpfOLK, CAUPTER I. hit*,—' " Why, ’t(s a b ilstrous and cruel style, A style fur challengers : why she defies me." Jta You Like It. 1 have seen many coquclU by nature, ond many , more who strove to obluin that killing tide, but never one who fulled so completely, unny lovely Hide pet . in ker childhood, Ruse Montrose. At eighteen she wm'mistress of rure beauty,a sparkling flow ofspi rits, and u most provoking, bewitching disposition— • Inshnrt every qitaliflcijliou to succeed in her uinbi. tiooj except simple hoiirllcsancs». Her mother was never more thayi mere rashinnib|c;nnd-ulWayti, 1 «unght to educate Rme for-,the same uselcsltejlJSf .Even at the point of death, oho fttrjutly.cnjoincd jtporr l|lc gu .rdi »n, a kind-hearted, but experienced ’oddity i bf.nn old bachelor, to keep her dtugntcr at a certain finishing establishment, unlit she.became properly qualified to enter the world ae the fashionable daugh ief of a fashionable mother. One can hardly wonder that her mind, trained under these influences, took an artificial bias; and, indeed, what young beauty, , spoiled by education, fortune, and the close friend ship of romantic school girls, would have a different ambition on her first peep nl the world from that of supremacy over the lords of creation? And so Rose Montrose flirted, and laughed, and played the unmerciful despot. But ), who knew her well, was perfectly uwnre that nil this wus foreign to her char* nntcr. I believed, in fad, that her arbitrary com . mands arose from a nervous timidity, striving •to conceal itself ip the roll she would act, just as cow. ards sometimes, ineodenvorlng to .assume coolness, rnab desperately into Ihowildcsl dangers.. Ip no other way could I account for her caprltjo of a nfamuqt, and fueling for the next hour. Her lovers were us perplexed as they wore disheartened. Her playful peltishness would occasionally subside, and then break forth in a torrent nf spiraling wit nt the first semblance of sentiment feeling. Tim troth wn«, that she knew the sacred (illness of heart's emotion, and shrank from exposing it In one who might see, hot could not understand. As wav said to me, byn young friend—of whom hereafter; —whose occasional puns betrayed his sole ungcnllemaiiiy propensity, her art lessncss was so plain that none but no ignorant cock ney could call it hcarllessness, and he confessed, with a blush,’ that he was once such n one. Their walk had been extended to the full second mile before either of the pair awakened.from the absorbing conversation. Rose Montrose was leaning on the arm of u young guntlmnan, whoso dreamy, orllst lilco eye hid been passionately seeking hers, for the lust half hour, in vain He had been pouring into her ear glowing descriptions,nf the olden days of, chivalry, and, In depicting the thoughts of others,' had Artfully, yol without premeditation, drawn forth his own. . It was the skill which love bestows upon even the artless. She hud listened in silence, though nil tumultuous within until their path censed before the verge of a,cliff, and she awakened from herself to the artificial again. It was to stop the nervous .boatjng of her heart, and interrupt the burning words she jfat longed to hear, that she stepped forward to the very edge, and rattled on hurriedly. u Mr. Sumner, lt very fine; the scenery I moan, ns well os your eloquence. .But,certainly (huso Knights wore as chivalrous as (hoy wore foolish, to venture so much for such a simple, silty thing ns n Indy's smile. Look half way down this frightful* cliff, and you will see a few wild flowers growing almost out of Iho very rooks. Now, If a cavalier were here, like those you have described, how gladly would ho risk his nocl<, and seize thole flowers to wreathe in some lady's hair! I am glad that the gallants oi our prudent days bivomoresense. < She spoke nervously, and, ns he oast his eyes down the precipice, bent upon him an Imploring look, os If beseeching him not to hear woods that she Would give worlds to unsay. But U was ton late. " Wore such an one hero he would rejoice in.the opportunity to earn a boon tint she would not rofliso. Ho would place the wreath In her hand, and shu would place her hand on his.” . His words were impetuous, half inquiring, and the warm blood mounted to her checks. She felt her self-possession vanishing, yol spake eagerly the first words of her heart. 11 And.she would keep the (lowers forever 1 * Then she shuddered, and calmly added, “Come, ,lot us leave llils silly romance, and return/* They walked buck in silonoo. Late In the evening Sumner loft (ho house of Mr. Wavers, after on unnilisfyctory visit.' lie saw that much other coquetry Was affected, but there was still inough to cause' him serious uneasiness. Several lijncs had lie endeavored to draw from her an answer to his ardent and undisguised avowals of love, ynl hitherto she had avoided the subject with thn full tact of woman, as ho bitterly called- her girlish, blush ing timidity. But she had now almost challenged him lathe proof of his devotions, and. ho vovyed to appear before her an the morrow claim for an audience which alio could not avoid. There,«fos,s scorn, too, ns ho fancied. In her tone, when she prats. 4d the careful wisdom of modern lovers. Ho was determined to obtain the flqwors that very , night, when nono wore abroad to witness and ridicule his Attempt, k The chivalrous plan required somo other unroman, bo moans, in tho shape of on iron bar and d coll of rope. Those ho procured from Ills sleepy landlord, and, after a .few minutes brisk walking, prepared to depcond thoioliff with their help. The bar was firm. Iy ; driven ipUi corlh, and the ropCj'with knots every few feel* fastened; to it securely. . With a strong grasp, he then commenced his da> I «cei)t. • ’ ' 1 About.half way down he stopped to rest for a mo* 1 menl npon a crag that boldly pushed itself out from I the almost perpendicular side of the precipice. De scending still farther, he found that the rope, resting upon the edge of this rock, suspended him,at some , dozen feet out frum the main wall j but when ha had swnngjusl opposite the flowers, a few violent springs enabled him to gain a firm fool-hold,' The prize was now in his grasp, but.in the eagerness of success, he. loosened jiis hold of the rope,and it swung fur out of his reach.. However, there was nothing peculiarly dangerous in Ins position. Like the famous sam i phire-gatherer, In a similar predicament,'ho knew that a bold leap for. the rope might savo’him, and, at the worst, tho deep flood was rolling only fifteen or twenty feet below. Carefully securing the flowers in his bosom, he watched the oscilation of the rope,and at tho critical moment sprang nimbly out into the air. His agile limbs, practiced in boyhood among his native Highland mountains and talf sea cliffs,'did not fujl him now. But his full weight,cast suddenly upon the rope,.(ore it ot once from the bar, and he dropped at once into the-bold sea. '. The first natural Impulse was to swim to the nearest point the second to burst into a hearty, though sdtnewhat silly laugh at this uncomfortable termination bf his romance. * $ 50 Oncp on shore, ho hurried Jo his quartets in the vijlngo inn. Like n true lover, ho first dried the flowers, and. arranged them into a graceful wreath, and then, U]gre like a man of sense, exchanged his dripping clothes for a warm bed. But his sense came too far behind folly, and in the morning after his chilly immersion ho awoke in a high fever,. Rose Montrose was sitting alone, with blushing checks, ond a soft smile beaming from hcnhalf closed' eyes. nothing around this silent' expression of pleasure} the inui■ Simincronlorcil the roorfi With (lushed dice, where. ; in -'fever plainly horned, hut vho fancied it to lie no J .I'we. the iv »- fover’a n a torn I tr(;pidaHni,;--tJadiili: j niit to.rd, it wouUniavcmiidu her more coal, collect ;cd and uufrpnririg-in her cnqncllry, but ns it. was .lie, (romh|ed with him and f«My shared ip ilia pappofltd agitation. And she hardly knew whether' elm -wee right or wrong, no ho hurriedly pieced a wtceih of ■wild (inwefa in lifer hand, saying abruptly end in hushy'tnnes. ' , "There—your hand." “ A y. yee ! the.o ore tile pretty field flowers I ad mired so much yesterday. You ore very kind in being so thoughtful, end rcnlly deserve some reward.” Her words crowded on each with fearful rapidity,— “ But my hand is too useful a member lo bo parted with lightly. Will not this glove answer your pur pose ? Why you seem airaid of it! It is only a glove that I am going to give you." All (his was very silly undf very cruel, and so Rose well know, hut for her life she enubf not say other, wise. Ho received the glove she carelessly .tossed lulu his hands!'(ho color flew from his cheeks end lipsi his (all form shivered aa he bowed coldly, and staggered rather than ho Walked from the room. ynn e! it was realty fhen. Rose sprang.lo the window, and as sho romirked his (shoring step, and roinomliercd the wild feverish expression of his face, knew the truth and wept. The wreath was oast violently upon llio floor ond Hodden under foot:— the “I 1 ,” ?•, l,lc Lf ,or|, °' v llnsomcwliat attained Into a manly prolongation qr,a>ourid. .At first sight Sumner Mu ljls hand as if to clear away some-1 thing fratnVliofQrehis : eyes, bat on second.thought, -and. a deliberate .survey of the other's person, merely f rmed the opinion that his future pupil ought not prove the source of annoyance that he had anticipa ted. A shott.conversation confirmed him in. this belief, and after the departure of Mr. Ncvcrs, hb pro deeded to the first instructions with a hearty pleasure (hat astonished himself, and Indeed seemed to confuse the boy. All Sumner's advances were received with a species of cool gratitude, that chilled the . artist’s fervor and really perplexed him; though it seemed to please inwardly the careless youHg Spaniard. But his hand was quick and skillful; so,lhat‘after aban "dqning this sudden interest in- ihp* graceless buy, Sumner derived real pleasure as ao artist in watch ing the magic developemcnts of gCnius hitherto un skilled only in.the finer rules wMchftgcs 1 have drawn from the spirit of the great masters. r ' They hud been together in this singular compan ionship but a day or two, when a Sicilian noble-man entered the studio of (he foreign artist, whoso pencil had attracted so much attention throughout Romo. His desire was to obtain a painting of a free, glowing, and artless Swiss shepherdess, a “ mountain nymph —sweet*Liberty.l* He withdrew with munificent offers of patronage, leaving Sumner already , rapt in th^bright creation of his fancy, and impatient to be alone. Day after day he wrought , with passionate skill upon the canvass, wholly absorbed in his labor, and scarcely exchanging a look .with the boy, who was studying with equal ardor in the opposite corner ofljie roqm. Thus were they busied. Sumner upon his pointing, the young Spaniard in mentally dcltne- the other’s, features in his earnest eyes, when the Sicilian again appeared. ' Vlt is unfinished!” exclaimed Sumner. * -Unfinished.!” said the noble, hurrying to the easel, with an exclamation of delight, *• then do not finish it. Touch It not with your brush again; it is matchless, Another of such unfinished paintings ond this shall be doubled." . He placed « ln the artist's hands. Spinner qulellyreturned it, “I caUrtol pafT Wim,Ws.'eKhpr incomplete, or at any otlienlmc.*' —.... . part with it?", r .* ’■’••’’lmpossible,”? V They exchanged low' bows* and the Sicilian walk cd out in'dignified resentment-* Sumner gazed one moment on the canvass with a burning, eye, then turning about he saw his pupil, and hurridly seizing him by the wrisl, drew him forward full before the ease). “Thercl-is there not something incomplete!" • For the first time the hoy now saw the painting on which Sumner had lavished more than an ortist’s dqvollon—tho faithful portrait of Rose Montrose. A crimson dye strangely blushed through Ms -dork complexion, as ho gazed gporj this living proof, that Sumner's hear! had breathed upon his imagination and mingled (ho enchantment of memory with the creations of his soul. But‘the master saw none of this, for his eyes were again fastened upon that sweet and generous face. Anjl then the pupil, witlfa pow erful effort that sent (he blood.from his cheeks and lips, spoke very calmly, though his tones trembled somewhat in the earnestness of his words, "Aye!” the painting Is p.crfect, Itself, there is someting incomplete In the expression of that face. I see thort) frankness and and a generous nature— perhaps a soul, but the emotions which spring from! iho very-heart have not risen to beam from that coun- j tenance. . The model from which that caught! may possess inner nobility, ond I oftruc affection, but that nobility has hitherto been stifled, and (hose depths remained as sealed fountains. And (hero must have boon causes, too, which have restrained his natural-.devehipement— fuifilly educa ted, perhaps, or inexperience, for that lady seems young, too young, it may bo, to know thot ajio carries a falsehood on her face; thot years and epochs have not yet shown her how different she really is from Ihn artificial character she boars., Vos, tho'porlroit If incomplete. Emotions, Iho (e&chlngs oftho heart, find the heart itself arc not there. "Yet she Is hot, or will nut always bo thus, unless her existence is mea ningless, and she no true woman. Dulieve me, there are lines and features In that face, which, if rightly traced, betoken a belter future. In this manner it is Incomplete." Sumner guzed upon Ibis noble boy with amazement, for ns ho poured forth these rapid words, his eyes burned with a strange brilliance, and the whole frame seemed shaken with a powerful emotion which he was 100 proud to conceal.. A now but undefined thought leaped into life within the artist's mind, and ho longed for solitude lo analyze it. Ho spoke in general terms,'quite different from his impassioned manner but a moment before. * "It is true, and grievous wrong may have been done through ignorance. But that was not ray mea mug. This is, Indeed, h portrait of a real model, and I may say, correct in general but still there is some thing in the original—l know not what—which Is not hero. Thavo tasked my memory in Vain; that otherwise fafthfiil representation lacks some hidden property of the original. Perhaps longer thought will enable me to reach It." Ho seized his hat and departed, leaving his pupil In the same attitude, but now with a blush Upon his ebooks, ond softly murmuring to himself. “He su.ipocta but docs not know. ,Ah ! how* rash and hasty thoso forward words that come before a thought of prudence. Will ho now think the lost of mo 7 1 know not—it matters not, for all is done.— Something incomplete! I could have told him—l will toHhlm"now, before I go, never, to enter this studio again. First away with this disguise." A little water removed tlio dark Moorish hue from that arch and templing face; a sly twitch and tho drooping moustache felfftom the corners of her month now drown up into a merry laugh, and In fbll beauty Rose Montrose stood before hor less lovely imago,— Those fonder fingers, seized (ho brush and.skilffiilly (raced a fairy wreath of wild flowers, suoh as tho ar (lst drew, all faded and dead from her bosom. One hand of the portrait clasped lightly a single glove, and the other seemed passionately buried In her flow, ers. And then* with a-glance, part of merry’pride, part of anxious Ibar, Rose‘withdrew. : . j! 10 jnbrnlng Leonard Sumner entered .Ms studio with the,determination, to solve the mystery .which,his young, pupil had thrown.around Mm. A •inglostep.wllhln.a Alnglo glance atlho portrait.and I the whole truth rushed upon his mind with clearness, oven bewildering in its simplicity.. Ho hastened to, Mr, Movers* without delay, . * ■ 1 She was sitting alone, and as one might who knew tint her lover was near. Ho walked straight forward and.soalmghimself By )ior ,aide, said softly, " Dear Rose, may l repeat my Iml wgrds'at our last meeting —your hand 7" f v r f" G .? e B l‘o «claimoil, looking up ” , h >ny foil;, my mad l ! neap. Believe me, Ihit I knew not what I said, that I,feared to aay vjhat I fell! that I was weak, fool,ah i u iK'7 l , l,0 " rlle8 "' Bemombor 11 1 ?,9° j Ue °.ver shown upon mo—that 1 , had lived only (jril/o|vorld, and waa all frivolity. 1 IIf"? f alllD gs|:J know that in what cona|ilutps the nobleat part of human character, I waa incomplete. Tile frninq of inj.hcart waa unfinished." ■ at! But lhcro incomplete at this moment. I ? y l u nlo.on oplbfe that portrait and’hurridly an* i lolledI olled a h The'guest shuddered!• “.Peele,” said ho: “i do not wish in my old ago to be hard on others. Who knows how the robber may have boon tempted, and who knows what, relations, ho. may have—-honest men, whom, his orimd, would degrade forever?— Good heavens 1 if detected, it is the gollcys, the gal leys 1” “ And what then ?—the robbed knew what he bra ved.” “ fiat did his father know it 7” cried the guest. A lighfbroko upon my nnhopny comrade in arms; he caught his frUnd by tjie.hsnd. “.You turned pale dl my son's sight—where did you ever see him be' fore ? 1 Speak t” ( ' 5 ‘ “Last night, on the road to Paris. The mask strip, pod aside* Call buck my Evidence \ %l “ You are mistaken,” sqld my friend calmly. “I saw myspri |n Ms bed, and blessed him before I went to my own.” “I will believe you,” said the guest, “and never shall my hasty suspicion pass my lips—but cull llio ovi donco!” ■ The guest returned to Purls before dusk.- The follior converted Willi Ills son on the subjtfH of his studies ' ho followed him to |iia room, waited till lie was in’bcdi and was then about to retire, when the youth said, v * 11 Father, you hpyo forgotten your blessing.' 1 “ The father went back, Idl'd his hand on his boys head, and prayed. , 'He .was credulous—fathers are so. He \vns 'pc suuded his friend had been deceived. He retired to rest, and foil ufleop. Hffowoko suddenly in the mid. die of the and felt (I here rfuoto his words) "1 felt os if a voice hud awakened—a voice (hat said, 11 Rise and search.” I roso at dneo, struck a light, nnd went to my son's room.-’ The door was looked. I knocked once, twice, thrice, no onswor. I dared nut coll aloud, lesl'l s|iobld rouse the scfvunls. I went down stairs—l dpcnod the hnpk door—l-passed to’the stable. My horse was there not my son’s.— My horse neighed*; it was old, like myself; my old chargor at Mount St. Joan 1 1 atolo book, J crept Into the shadow of the wnj| by my son's door, nnd extinguished my light. I HAt at if I were a thief myself,” , "Brother,” Interrupted, my mother under her breath',“speak In.yourown words, not in this wretch* od father’s. Iknowjiol why, built would shook mo loss.” Tho Cap!, nddded, Before daybreak my frlpnd )icard,the, btipk door open gently;’a fool ascended the stairs'—akoy gra ted in the door of tho roqnj close at hqnfl— the futh. or glided through the dark into, that chamber,’ho* hind his unseen son. . . ' YXb hoard the clink,of tho tlndcrboxVa liglit wu« otnick j.it qptcad.pver tho room, but he hod time'to placo himself behind the window curtain which.tyas close at hand. The figure, before stood a moment so motionless, and seemed to listen,, for U turned to the right, to (he left,'Us visage covered with the black, hideoup maslt which is worn at carnivals.., Slowly the mask .was removed; qould llial bo his sen's 7 the son of.a brsie qian J it wap.pajo qm| ghastly with, scoundrel lenrs| .the. base drops stood oh the brow ; the eye was haggard and bloodshot. He looked as a coward looks when death stands before him. The,.youth walked or rather skulked, to the secre taire, unlocked opened a drawer, placed within it the contents oMits pockets, and Ills frightful mask : tho father approached softly, looked over his should* ers* and saw in tho drawer the pocket book embroid ered with hiS' friend’s name. Meanwhile, the son look out bis pistols, uncocked them cautiously, end was about to sccreto them, when his father arrested his arm. , . “ tiobber, tlio use of these Is yet Como.”, The son’s knees knocked together,' nn exclamation for mersy burst fron) his lips; but. when .recovering tho mero-shock of his dastard nerves he perceived it was not the grip? of some hircliug'of the law,Aut a father’s hapd that had clutched his arm, the vile au dacity which knpwa fear only from a bodily cause, none from the owe.of shame, returned to him. , . "Tush; alf,” he said, “tyasle not time In reproach es, for 1 fcflr. tho d’ufmcs are on my (ruck. It I I is tyeJl that you are hero ; you can swear that I have 6pcnt the night at .home. Unhand me old man—ll have thpse witnesses still losecreteend ho pointed I (o a tho garments wet and .dabbled with of the road. He had when the walls fhook; there was the lieovy clatlcr nf hoofs on the ringing pavement without p . . .i „ \ “They come/’ qrlod the son, “ off dotard'save , your son front the,gullcys.V ‘••The galleys, the.galleys!” cried the father, stag gering back; “ ’ll® true, he said the galleys.” There was a loud knocking at the gate. The gens d’ormes had surrounded.the house. ' “Open in the name of the law.” I . . lio answcr copic—no door.was opened, Somq of the gens d'armes roue to, the fear of llic.housc; in which was placed the stable yard. From the window of the son's roont, the father saw the sudden blaze of torches, the shadowy, form of men hunters. He heard the clatter of arms as they swungthomselves from their horses. ,Ho heard a voice cry.- ’* Ves, here is the robbei’s grey horse— still wreaks with sweat.*’ • And beliind'and inTro'nlj.alj, cither door, again Came the knpchingand again the about “ Open in the name of the law.” « • ~ Then lights began to gleam from the casements of the neighboring houses; then the space.filled rapidly with curious wanderers, startled from their sleep:; 1 the world was astir, and (lie crowd came around to know what crime or shame had entered tho old sol. dier's home. Suddenly, within, there woe heard (he report of a pistol, and a minute or so afterwards the front door wea opened, and the noldtpr appeared. “Enter,” he said to the gensd'orraes—“what would you?” . “ We sock a robber, who is within your walls.” • “ I know k~mounl antf find him—l will lead-the way.” . . Ho opccndcd the. atnirs, and threw open hia eon’s room: the officers of* justice poured into the room, and on the floor lav the robber’s corpse. .../V'JNike what is left yon,” said the father. “.Take ll " *“ d blood !'* I was present at the trial. The facts hod become known heforclfnhd. He stood there with his grey inl and his mutilated iimbt, nnd the deep scar on his visage, and the cross of (ho legion of honor on his breast, and when ho had told his' tale, lie ended with these words— 1 “ J have.saved the son whom J reared for France, from a doom that spared the life to brand It with disgrace. Is this a crime? I give you my life in exchange for my eon’s disgrace. Docs my country need * victim ?* 1 have lived for mv country's glory, and I can die Contented to satisfy its law, sure that if you. did blamo you will not despise —sure that (he hands that give to the headsman will scatter flowers over my grave. Thus I confessed all. 1, a soldier, look around amongst a notion ofsoldiors, and in' the name of the star which .glitters on this breast of mine, I dare the fathers of'Francc to con* demn meJ” ‘ c v‘ • They acquitted the soldier* jit.least they gave a verdict answering to what in Ve find the following' in ibe Blairtmlle ApAlf' ian: In. the summer of 1621 i boarded a few (ho hotel now kept py Col.ll. Bqehier,in Harfiabprf, then calicd.Mrcu Buehlerjs, as the mother of Col, B.' wap then living whose kindness and amiable dispoj'u tion will be remembered by. all.who frequented' life? house i and more especially if they were on.tlie.aick list, or required any attention to, increase their bom* fort. ]/• ••• At that time Gen. Hetsler was Govcrnor of rend* sylvaniu and Andrew Gregg Secretary pf.(bp Corn* mon.w.epJih, Mr. Gre£g also made his home at Mry; unehlur’s. . • .. It often occurred that gentlemen Who stopped’it Mrs. B.’b sought Mr. Gregg's company, and got hidi to speak of the early fathers of the Republic, almost all of whom hc.had seen and known, and tome/his relations of matter* upd things of. *• auld lang ayne/' were very interesting. Ho Jiad beep s warm.'ifeper* Boiuah,.was elected to. Congress ( at ah early day’ by tjio anti-fcderal party; was an intimate perspHsl. as well as political fiicnd of Mr. mesa, ed and lodged with, him several yoais,-after he was a member df Congress.. ... ‘ - Vr : ■ It was pn fi Saturday afternonh, in-August 1691, (hat a particular friend of Mr. Gregg's, Mr. Haldemun dropped in,at Mrs. B.'ih end in the,epiirse of their conversation Mr. Gtogg related the followlrig 1 little story which impressed me so favornbly.lhat .l ehian have nol. forgotten it, although twenty seven,year* •have since 01.ip8cd.;,,1l occurred in W.tshingfoncUy, while he -,wn* a member of Congress! and Jefferson was President . • . . -■ Ho. had just risen, ho said, from Ibo-dinnef t*b|q when a servant announced that two person* on boras* Vack were at the door, who said they Pennsylvania, ond wished to ace “-Andy Mr. Gj wenl to the door and found & Germon,Trobi Marietta; with his daughter* bodnd tp Virginiai Jo buy land, but who desired him to accoitisahy .them to Mr» Jefferson, . .' <( V. , r ~j. - i’ 1 . • G. rntherrei .a foas (o arrange mil lers, and requested, them to alight end have, ihein horses put away. This.lhoy declined doing, but said if it wa* not too far to the President’s; house,'they would get off and |qad UiqU (horses there,.pstfteir call must .npccssanlyfbq-very brief, ‘ THo German's lone was.ipoaitive, and.he would take noalhbr.course# They did ojl. thrceiwalkqd.op ito (be president’*, Inking their horses along.’ Mr. J. must 'have occupied at ilial jimW (ho block'of buildings near the Capitol,’ loot wa> or?, still pointed' out or were.a few 'years ago, as his residence whilst Presl* dent, •! ‘' ’ ’ ; » There was a paling around the building* to Widely the horses were hitched; and the parly proceeded to the main entrance. Mr. Gregg took the lead. After applying the knocker, a colored, servant opened tfio door, but contrived to place himself so as (o obstruct,' the entrance.' .“I gave him.my shoulder**.said .Mpj Gregg,“and sent him out of the way, so that we all got into the hall. Ho then told, us ‘the President, was at dinner; I knew the house well," added Mr. G., “and 1 opened a room door on outright and in* vited ray friends in, and f&und seats for them.’.** . pj . “There were folding doors bet ween this room and the dining room,, and f heard, .Mr, Jefferson ask the servant who It was that was in the adjoining room } I also heard him reply that it QfCgff two other persons, a man and a woman. ...Mr. J.lhqnj ordered, {he folding doors ,t(Kbe-lhrowm-ppqn, and i -tidtaJoarancdo como io snd taring immy f/iepds wilh^ic^ rrf „ • “Mind dined,-but' ifty.friends had 'not—so arc.klj' sat down to the table,Jbc old niiaVott fllr.JeSbrim** rigid, the daughter on his.left/'Mr. Jefferson bad* (ho faculty pfmaklng every person at edse in hi*' presence,'and Spon had the old man a* wclj%ffhis daughter, .perfectly,at home.. Ho.was over -fondnf mixing and .conversing wllhphWn,unsophisticated mcn,,and could unbend to them In (be easiest liiieg* innblcjnanncf, They talked of farming, of the use of planter of pans, of raising clover, and>.of. stock; meanwhile after dinner, the >yino was circulated,,it was good jy.ine, and nur German was no bad jodgy'.* 1 “At length ,he‘said to Mr. Jefferson, I am going (9 such a place in Virginia; uhd would like to know tha best stopping places. As you are u Virginian, you. can tell me, of course. Yes, said Jefferson, I know (he rout) very well, and will give you directions.— Then turning io, his private secretary, Mr. Cole, he sard, Mr. Cole Jus£ take your pen and note down what lam about to soy. He proceeded to name the places, observing to hjs, guest that inYirgirjio ljo : muBti\ot expect to find, taverns, as In,Pennsylvania; bnt*eaid ho, I am giving you the names ofplanlers, at’whose houses you will be. kindly received and 'well. enter r tained;bul (hoy will take no pay. This is opr WPy. in Virginia, and you will hof.e to toJi/br/n to onreus* toms." Ho went on till ho.named o iady—“by such a day you will reach Mrs. Dandrigf*.*it, *Mfa, .pan, drige," said the guest;" "Is she the. Mrs.. who hod a child at our scho ) in Litis, that topk sick ond died at my house in Marietta, on .its waylmmei* Its mother was with us twp' wpokji;, ,I shall. be very; glad to see her; she wsa on excellent woman;.*! :*\lt is the very same,” said Mr. JefTeraoh, ."arid-I am glnd you Ihinlc so well of hcl/Jbr she ie my sister.'* “ Your staler,*’ said our Pennsylvanian, “ ie U bio!’*, And forgetting that.he,was not in hie gWn well stored house, or a Labpastcr county lnvern«.fafl - smote iboloblo vjjlh hls.fistf'and cried out,“come,* by must havp/anolher bottlojof wlpit.V "Certainly,” aqid Mr. Jefftitpon, and ilrtas brought, and the t?rce|dcnUndhls guests chatted till near sun down. Gut our German said he mast be at a certain place that evening, and arose to slarU Mr./Jefibr. son accompanied.-them, to the door, but their.horses were gone. exptuinedptherepublican chiefTiud even attended to. (hem. They had been! sent to a livery stable nod fed. They Were brought* to the President's, and there, after cordial shoking.of . hands and kind adieus, the company separated,' phased with the free and social intercourse Ipey had. enjoyed; and as regarded nnr,Pennsylvflniit friend ami |i{s daughter, delighted with the. kindness and. urbanity pf the. grcutJ]omu?raj|e chief.. In. hi* inlcrcotirse'wllh nls fellow Then wiiftplulp, nf,(Mrnp)e, . ond as free from articssness or sham as the humblest man in the nation, ' . Editorial Pnpraitßs,—Whop ijiou goeat, Ip , ft'' printing office, talk, nob to' the, co'mpoBiUfr»» , nor rpeo* die with anything which thou mays! see >(|ieip« ,ltj thou bringcat a writing for publication, withhold not from the editor the napie,of the author .thereof, lest thou secmesl to deni fraudulently, nor auk of him, . whp,hath written a. certain pfeee, lost iie. may not, wiqh to tell then. Lot the writing which thou ronyat bring bo legible, lest much time bo l