AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. 1 Thursday moaning By John B. Bratton. TIfRM S i , ScnsoniPTioif.—One Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid in. advance j Two Dollars If paid within tho year j; And Two Dollars and Fifty. Cents, if not } mid.within thoyoar., Those terms will bo rigid y, adhered to Ihevery.instance.; No subscription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at tho optionof-tho Editor. , ’ A D by tho Cash, and not exceeding one sqnaro, will bo Inserted three times for.ono Dollar, and twenty-five cents fpr oach additiondl Insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion. ■ _ ' ;' JoB-PniNTiua— Snch as ‘Hand’ Bills, Posting Bills; Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &c., oxo fcdfed with accuracy and at tho shortest notice. ftofiitnl. AIITDJW WILD FIOffEBS. BY : MAE Y nOWITX. nHTho hutumn’sun is shining, ’’ - Gfoy mists are on the hill { 'A russet tint Is on the leaves, . , . .But flowers arc blowing still 1 'fetlll bright, in wood ormedowj . On moorolands, dry and brown , By littlo streams—by rivers broad j On every breezy down. *hlo little flowers are smiling, WUU (tidily dew-drops wot, And saying with a spirit voice— - “We have not vanished yot I .*‘No, though the spring bo over j . Though smnmer’a strength bo gone ; Though autumn’s wealth bo garnered; And.wiutcr comuth on. VStnt wo have not departed, , We linger to thu lust,. And even on early winter’s brow A cheerful radiance cast I” ‘ Go.forth, then, youths and maidens, Bo joyful while you may $ 1 ■GO forth, then, child and mother, v ’ And toiling men grown gray. Go forth, though yo ho humble, ". And wati with toll and caro \ There arc no fields so barren But some sweet iiuwer is there I , Flowers spring up by the highway ' Which busy feet have trod ; ; They rise up in tho dreariest wood j ’ They gem the dullest sod. They, need no learned gordner To nurture them with care \ : ■ They only .need the dews of earth, , The sunshine and the air. And for oaith’s lovely childrcd j For loving hearts and good, They spring up-all around us, They will not be subdued. Thank God I when forth from Eden ' Tho weeping pair was driven, That unto earth, though cursed with thorns, Tho little flowers were given. That Eve, when looking downward, To face her God afraid, Beheld the scented violet, The primrose in tho shade I Thanh God! that with the thistle •That sprang up in his toil, Tho. weary worker Adam, Saw roses gem tho soil.* And still for anxious workers 5 For hearts with anguish full. Life, oven on its dreariest path, Has flowers for them to cull. Biisttllniiem From ike iV. F. Tribune- SHE IS JB-ONE. Just “opposite Our .house—stop a minute— there is music in those two last words—let us eay them, again. How sweet they sound—once more—there is a great hill opposite where we arc sitting, repeating those two words, and here they come back again. Echo is over there in the deep shades of the trees in the valley, and lie says, our house. Well just opposite to our house there is an alley or court, leading away up somewhere behind the houses, whero there are other houses —holes for human beings to suffocate in. Wo have never been up there, but we know that those who livo by labor and have to labor,to livo. arc up there ; for often of aa evening we see one of (he*tenants come home with his dray, and he unhitches his horse by the pump outside, and then turns round and says come, and walks up the little court, with his faithful, tired servant at his heels, and for a long time we wondered if they both lodged in the same house, or if not, whero did ho lodge his horse? So we wo went over one day as he was going up, and peeped into the court, and there wo saw the man open a little side-door, into which, after shedding off his harness—for there was not room enough for anything but his body—the horse crowded himself, and then the man opened another little door over his head, —no, the other extreme, —and there, in a little cuddy-hole. was some hay for which he whin nied his gratitude. Then the man went up to his own cuddy-hole, where under the bed he had a bag of oats—we k«ow it was under the bed, for we saw the dust on his knees where ho had Unclt down to Jill the little measure, for which he got more whinnied thanks from a good servant, a faithful friend, And grateful animat, though it was a dumb beast. So day after day, for.months, and years wo have seen the seme man and same horse—lat terly the horse walks as though getting to feel his ago apd hard work, and the man looks caro worn of long toil that brings him nothing but a lodging in the same hot oven, near where he boxes up Ida horse to sweat ond stew all night—brings him only a small loaf of bread— they arc very small nowadays, for his whole family. Yes, it brings hint something else—did bring him something else—every night when ho came homo, it brought a little girl about ten f’cara old, with the prettiest soft red hair—we lave no fondness for red hair generally, but this was pretty—bounding like a fawn down the court and up on tho dray Just before it got to tho pump, where it had to stop; it could not So, by, for tho old horse had slept there so long e.coutd not go beyond that certain Uxed stop ping place. It was a short ride, but a merry ono; ’twos childhood’s happy hour. Our inan was an corly riser, up and away often before we had dressed, hut early as it was, tho red curls were, there, and she would bound i W »nd cling to ono she loVed for ™o r° perchance a ride to tho next c ot a a °ul)Io quick step }° . Li.,., I ’, ° f , V lO . UouBa o«tVoor»i- Jf-f ’ ,°° k ’ SC " d 0 kIS3 upon tho magnetic telegraph of a waving hand, with a good-bye, papa,’ aa ho went round the corner ond away to hia work down town. Of ten for two houra before sun down sho would Bit upon tho door, stono watching that oamo corner for tho expected ono. for sometimes ho came at an cany hour: ond then sho ran to meet him with more Joy in heroyes. and more in hia than all that ever was felt by ono who never heard tho sweet sound of ‘Oh! there comes papa. 1 Sometimes she had company ; a tall, graceful, neat woman, .with a pale face and frail person, who stood by her, looking in tho same direction. It was a good place too, in the shade.of some dark green trees, whither sho could coroo out of that cul-de-sac of a court, i where she breathed hot air all day, and carbo nic gas all night, to gct*n little snuff of tho eve ning breeze coming up from tho lower bay.— j That breeze is a blessca Inheritance of the New ' Yqrk poor, .which they should enjoy> but arc cheated out of by every ono who builds their i houses. ' i BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL , 41. One evening we noticed that our little girl of tho alley over tho way was not alone In her usual seat upon the door step; In her lap lay a little sister, verv young, small and pale as her her mother’s own sweet face. •Every pleasant evening for months, that little girl oronght the baby down the court, out in to the open street to .feel tho soft air of tho sea breeze. She could not run to meet papa, but her eyes went round tho corner in sharp glances and she tried to direct the baby’s the same way as she said ‘there comes papa.* So, as she could not run to meet him, ns soon As he turned old Dobbin about towards the pump, before he stopped to unnitch, he jumped off and came and stooped down and kissed both. Of their life in doors, we know nothing, but one so affection ate to his children; must have been equally so to the mother who bore them. We could have sworn it often, that lie was a kind, good hus band, when we saw tho roorket basket upon his arm, or the slop bucket in his hand, and the little bits of kindling wood on his cart—all kindling the fires of affection in the heart, as well ns the household fire in that one room, where all lived and cooked and ate and slept. ; Oh. what a pity, we often thought, that such industry could not bring a better reward. Out in the country, in some snug farm-house, how the color would come back to that mother's check—for it was there that she was born— those two children would grow up to healthy womanhood.... A few days ago wo went out of the City— one of those burning days of that hot month of Julv—it was that very day that nil the world of Americans turn into all fool’s day, and bum tons of powder, while they get glorious drunk, shouting ‘what a glorious independence.’ Out in the country—in shady groves and in deep nooks, by cool springs gushing out of the rocks, wo saw scores of city children, that live in just such courts as the carman and his little red headed daughter, and they were so happy, and gave life such a healthy joy, that wc wish she too could have been there.* Strange, tho’ we had never spoken to this gentle child, what a cord went from our heart to hers. Wc came back the next day, but wo did not sec her; Morning and evening passed, and she was not there; and then wc thought, yes, wo felt, that she had gone to tho country; perhaps, just then was sitting with father and mother under the shade of just such a group of fra* grant cedars, on just such a rock, near just such a spring *9 wc had sat bv two days be fore. with one of the dearest little girls, more inclined to play, were enjoying life with high glee all around Wc were almost sure our surmise was true; because the cart stood idle in the street; but it only Rtood'SO two days, and then we saw old Dobbin backing out of his oven and coming down the alley, and walking in between the shafts of the cart by tho pump. It was an old familiar sight, and we really felt comfortable to see it again. We had Just taken a cold bath, as wc always do at G o’clock every morning, and that made us in a mood to be comfortable with all outside influence. There was one thing, though, that detracted a little from our comfort. . Wo thought tho carman’s eyes look ed unusually red, and there was less vigor in his step than two day’s recita tion in’the coumry f'ahd wc could .not help thinking that lro -bad done what a million oth ers of his couhtiyrrigft had done upon tho same occasion, just‘injidnor of the day’—got drunk. How wo did wrong that man. After he was all ready to start, he got down and went back and looked up the court, as though ho had for gotten something, or expected to see somebody running down. * Why did not somebody come ? But sbodid not. and he started away, looking back os ho went around the comer ; but no loving glance met his: no kiss flew from a waving hand, like an electric flash to his heart. What could it mean 1 All, thought; we. he has left them in the country. Grandpa fell so in love with the little city girl that ho must have her stay a while with him. and grandma thinks it must be too hot for the baby in the city, and mamma’s health will bo all the better for a week there. All true, yet all false. It was so true it serv ed for a lull of any anxiety in our mind until Saturday, and then somebody at our house wantnd a cart, and called him of tho opposite alley. While he was waiting, we said, ‘wesup posed he went to the country to enjoy the Fourth of July.’ ‘No, it was a day of little enjoyment to me.’ ‘Were you sick V ‘No.’ There was a strange suspicion coming over us. We dreaded to ask for fear it was true, but could not turn away, and so we said: ‘And your little girl r •She Is gone, sir. ‘To the country ?’ ■Yes.’ We breathed freer, until ho added : •Yes, she has gone to tho country—to Green wood.’ ‘And the little ono ?’ ‘lt went with her. We could not part them. Her last words were, ‘Oh, take good care of the baby till I come for it. It won’t be long. Good bye !’ She died at evening—she came for her ‘pet’ at and we laid it upou her breast, and carried them both away together. You have missed her 100. I have often noticed you looking at us. But sho is gone now.’ ‘And tho mother ?' •She will soon follow, 1 fear, and then I shall be alone.’ He turned to wipe away manly, honest tears, and wo—well no matter. Wo went and sat down at our desk, took up a sheet and wrote those three words that wcrcringing in our brain and burning in our heart—‘She is gone’—and then—well, we did not write what followed— we only held the pen, while wo were only con scious of ono thing—had but otic thought—all else was absorbed in those words—‘She is gong.’ Proverbs of Women. When cats wash their faces, bad weather is at hand : when women use washes to their com plexion, it is a true sign that the beauty of tho day is gone. Mapy powder their faces that tlicir skins may seem whiteit is os a poulterer Hours an old hen, that it may pass for a tender chicken. Tho stepping stone to fortune is not to bo found in a Jeweler’s shop. How many women have been ruined.by dia monds, as bird catchers cnlico tho lark from heaven to earth with sparkling glass. Like the colored bottles in a chemist’s win dow, is rongo on tho checks of a maiden; it at tracts tho passer by, but all know the drugs they advertise. Choose not your wives as you do grapes, from the bloom on them. Ho who marries a pretty face only, is like a *3 or of cheap furniture—tho varnish that blaze IUo .c? 0 wIU not enduro tho llro-sido i« M, 1 ,'," K i rJ, “ of bc ? lU y not n stay luce. Thla , and henceforth her life is a burden to her. THE CONTINENTAL BUTTONS. When the American nrmy was encamped at. Valley Forge, a British officer, who was q imr . tcred upon tho family of a gentleman in Phila delphia, had ocasion to visit tho camp a message under a flag of truce. • The lady of tho house determined to acconi . pony him, for tho purpose of taking so me rc£r j. mentals to her husband, who had been out p or some time with tho Continental army. nn( j it was necessary to conceal her design f rom officer, the mattcr.was accomplished b v nr fjfi ße Having token the stuffingoutof the‘ cus^on g of the gig. the regimentals were inserted in its place, and things went on smoothly, unt || t^Q roughness of the road suggested to the gentle-' man that'his scat was none of the soft os t. Tn vain were two niioffending oon . demned to eternal punishment, and r n j c i 7 | cr k. ed from beneath the owner, who "bciicrod ‘ that thev were the culprits, and in vai n woro pockets searched, m hopes that the removal of a stray key or pen-knife would alleviate his misery. Perceiving the trouble, and knowing the dan ger of discovery, tho lady taxed her powers of conversation to the utmost, in hopes of direct ing his attention from so pressing a siibiect: but the pig would bump on. and the Continen tal buttons obstinately insisted on avenging their country’s wrongs upon the person of the enemy, doubtless, ‘whispering in their sleeves,’ “Sec his posture is not right. And he is not settled quite :• Look, now. nt his odd grimaces. Saw you e’er such comic faces while be, poor fellow, inwardly blamed fhepri mitivenesa of Yankee cushions and sighted for the luxurious quarter that he had left behind. Weary miles w oro traveled, the captain still suffering the penally of his loyalty, when sud denly the truth flashed across Ins mind, and memory recalled certain mysterious conversa tions ho had overheard ip the house, about bread cloth ami embroidery; tjic secret was' discovered t hut his troubles were not yet'over, for he now found himself on the horns of a di lemma as uncomfortable as the Continent al but tons, and he rode on perplexed between his duty to hts kifig and his obligations to the lady. Too much of a Ercntlcmnn.to betray her, and yet too loval an officer willingly to carry ‘’aid ami comfort” to the rebels, ho hesitated long ns to the course ho should pursue ; but his gal lantay at length got the bolter of him. and bravely submitting to tho stern infliction, he conrhulhd not to verify his suspicions by occu lar demonstration. A_ significant smile and gesture alone inform ed his companion that the artifice was discov cd. and the rebel garments were suffered to reach their destination unmolested. Posterity may settle tho question os to wheth er Dio energy oringenuity of the vounp wifede serves the more praise, and whether the duty- 1 of the officer should have superseded that of the* gentleman —but one thing is certain—the rchle gentleman received a uniform which ho sadly needed ; and the memory of tho Indy is more fondly cherished by her descendants,’ whenever they think of tho “Continental Buttons.” Never Break ;tt Promise, Tn no way, pcrlmpsi.can a ynvmg • stroy biM business character more • than by pbtaining the reputation-ofiono who breaks his promises. The mcrcaniifo n'Orld, in placing under its ban the individual who .suf fers his note to -he protested, is less unjust than is generally supposed. Instances of hardships, wo are willing to concede, do occasionally arise under the operation of this rule; but they arc less frequent than is generally supposed, and not more cruel than m similar exceptionable eases. Nine men out of ten trade beyond their means, toacarcle&s management of their afinirs, or to criminal speculations. That is, they have undertaken more than they could perform, and this, while knowing at the time of the prinnise that there was great doubt whether they could meet their engagements. Perhaps, indeed, they had no deliberate Intention of violating their promise. But tiny were either moreigno noront than they should have been of their nbil* ity to perform, or they trusted 100 cofldently to | the chances of the future, or they took heavier i risks subsequently than was consistent with their liabilities. The innocent, therefore, sillier but rarely by tin's species ot mercantile pro-1 scription. On, the other hand, the rule is nb- 1 solutely necessary to the commercial world, for without it, payments could scarcely ever be do- f tended on, and finnncialdistrcsswould frequeut* y be alarmingly increased. Strict business integrity, in this particular, depends much on the general character. A person who pays little regard to slight promi ses. usually is somewhat careless of greater ones also. Defects of this kind, like Haws In maebin cry. never lessen, but always grow worse, until finally, under the strain of a powerful tempta tion, they often break down a man’s career frr ever. The most punctual men in keeping a trivivlal engagement, we have always found to bo the most exact in their business transactions. Washington was a memorable example of par ticularity in small things as in great, and Ins strict probity in the hitler was unquestionably the result, in n considerable degree, of his Udel ity in the former. In our experience also, the men who never kept an engagement to the moment, the men who were proverbially ‘behind time,’ hrvo been mostly those who have failed subsequently in business. Wo have learned, too, to bo cautious of those who are over ready to promise. It is the individual who carefully .considers before he makes a pledge, who can most surely be de pended on to keep it. A multiplicity of prem ises noil prevent the promiser from observing them nil, for one conflicts with the other, and disables even the best intenlioncd. A disregard of .promises, finally, Is like a fungus: which imperceptibly spreads over the whole character, until the moral preccptions are perverted, and the man actually comes to believe ho docs no wrong, even in breaking faith with his wann est friends. The Calcium Light. Professor Grant, of Now York,who hnsbpcu experimenting in tho Calcium Light, for light houses. says tho difficulties which Induced Allen Stevenson, engineer of the Northern board of English Light-Houses, to pronounce tho desired Introduction of tho oxhydrogen light “hnprac. lloablo in the present state of our knowlecfge,” have boon overcome by Mr, Grant. Tho lime point which he uses will burn'twenty, four hours without disintegrating. lie has a full sized ap aratus at tho observatory, near tho Crystal Pal ace, where ho produces n flash of such intensity that tho shadow projected by it eleven miles distant is equal to that from tho moon in its first quarter* To mako a light of this Intensity costs not half |ho' sum required for a first class Fres nel light. l£7*Er. Franklin, in speaking of education, says:—"lf a man empties his purse into his head, no ono can take it from him.” [£7“ Sugar is tho substance most universally dlfluscd through all the natural products, let married people take a hint from this provision of nature. “OUR COUNTRY—STAY IT ALWAYS CH RIQIIT —DUTj Riant OR TVRO.VO, OUR COUNTRY.”. CARLISLE, PA.i THURSDAY,! NOVEMBER 9, .1854; , Squeezing Band!. To those, who can only lie , given ot Imppl ness, authentic oxqoricnco, communication by ' the receivers y is naturally Interesting ; and wo' 1 therefore have groat pleasure ill lying before - tho “squeezers,” among our renders, tho. fol lowing confession as to tho emotion of tho squeezed”— being tho confession ofa young lady What an tmmcnifl? difference: it makes tcAor squeezes one’s hand! A ladj'.jhaytwino ho arm around her waist, press akisifon your brow, or, holding your hand In hcr’s rey .with your lingers to her heart’d content, blitrywi are per. fectly calm and collected, and*«xpcrienco no unusual sensations, either' disagreeable or oth erwise, Perchance a'gentleman, whom you dislike, or fool but acquainted with, ven ture to press your hand ; you snatch it quickly away, the Indignant blood mounts to your lore heiid, rind, with flashing eyes, you wonder how tho impudent fellow dares to do puCh a .thing 1 Rather nn antiquated specimen.’of humanity squeezes your hand,; you feel .mortified.for yourself and him—mortified that u man of his years should make such a fool of himself; that lia should think you can really lil^ M joh non sense 5 and, above oil, that he'uolfcvis it possi ble that you can like him, vexed njMvlmt hchad done, and determined that opportunity shall never be.offered.him of doing So again. Vou place your hand confidently iu that' of an ac cepted, acknowledged lover ; yoji arc not ex cited or confused ; you have blushing continually in his presence ; you experience a feeling of quiet happiness, a “little heaven upon.earth sort of feeling you'oro perfectly contented with everything In tlps. terrestrial world, especially your lover and yourself; and yet, withal, it is a foolish feeling, as you sit with his arm twined around you } (hat manly form, winch is to guard and support you through : life j a soft, rosy, happy tint suffuses your face 1 as your hand is clasped In his. g\lij It is a ; blissful, foolish feeling! But s’cino one i whom yon like very much—not* ; tn excepted lover, hut ono who may, perhaps, ho one one of i these days—gently' enclose your; hand In his ( own, what a slraoge, wild, joyful,palnful feeling ■ thrills through you ! Tho hot blood leaps, dan- ; clng, tumbling through your veins, rushes to j your tempels, tingles at your fingers’ cncles I — , Tour heait goes ; surviy,-yuu thluk , he must hear .it throbbing! Fortlie life ot you, ‘ you cannot speak. After Jetting your hand re main in his just long enough hlm know 1 that you arc riot offended, you gently withdraw i it; but, perchance, if it is taken ‘-fgain, after a faint “don’t do so,” which Is answered with downcast eyes and blushing check; you .let the littlo hand, tin's first bright earnest of other 1 tilings to come, thrilling and burning with (his 1 new cstatic omo’tion, remain all trembling In its * resting place, I ‘ Utility anil Sagacity o( Silitrimt {logs, Of nil the-animals that live inthp Wgh'north latitude, none arc. bo deserving of bring noticed os the do?. The companion of mat; m oil cli mates. from the island of tho Soul!',- Sea, where ho feeds on bananas, to the .where his food is fish, he hero plays a pufcfc. to which ho is unaccustomc