rrrgvwvswyy ."W-rr-'-r-.-.i \":y’ f^L AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. PUBLISHED EVERY TXHIRSDAY HORNING BY John B. Bratton. TERMS. ■ Subscription. —Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid in advance; Two Dollars ifpaid within the year; and Two Dollars and Fifty Gents, if not paid within the year. Those terms will berig dly adhered to in- every instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are paid.itnloss at the option of the Editor. ■ . ' ■ 'Advertisements- —Accompanied by the Cash, imd not exceeding one square, will bo inserted three times for Ono Dollar, and twenty-five cents for;eacb additional insertion: Those of agreat tef length in proportion. : Job-Printing —Snch as Hand-bills, Posting- Elills, Poinphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &0., exe cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. Cumberland Nurseries. .8J miles East op Carlisle, , 'Middlesex Station, oil’the C. V. R. R. is cion to . tht : Nursery. - fTfHE proprietor of the above N urseries, would JL call the attention of all who wish to plant trees, to his present stock of. Fruit and Ornamental Trees, PLANTS: VINES, &c., Ac., comprising as complete a collection of fruits, of every class, »is to be found in the State. And constitu ting mainly; such sorts as sixteen years of ex aerienco, and careful observation, have proven ;be very best for our locality. This latter clause s quite too much overlooked by the inexperi jnced, through their anxiety to gather new things from other quarters, regardless of the probabilities of deception, through dealing with strangers, or parties of whose reputation and correctness they have no knowledge; and who, itevbn honest and careful, have not the oppor tunity and experience to know, what is best adap ted to this section of the State. He would call especial attention to his extensive stock of heal thy young apple trees for this autumn planting, Krblcb ore veiy fine. 1 Kj”NOTE, laf. All selections for orchards ■eft to the choice.of the Proprietor, will bewar- Banted true to name and combine the most vnl fcible fruits for the place to be planted. ■ 2nd. No inferior trees, or unhealthy stock, Kent out under class of good trees. ■ 3d. All trees for parties who cannot call at ■lie nursery, and wish them sent via Railway, Brill' be selected with asmiichcUro, tts if the pur. Khaser were present, and the trees packed so as Bo carry safely to any point on the Railroad,for Brbloh a light charge will be made. B 4th. It is not the lowest price, or the largest Band grow) trees ho strives to reach, But correctness and healthy trees) are the two ■points he.professes to fill, pf CAUTION. Ist. Beware of reports, and glisten not to the reports that the nursery is tfclosed, the stock reduced and such and such ar iflolesuro not to bo had; as it now stands ; on fOaearly forty acres closely planted, containing |jncar half a million of trees and plants, in van ipus stages of growth, including all the most re piablo articles, old and new, as fast as brought Santo notice. - Many of the now things are held Binder test, until their qualities have been suf. Eciently proven to warrant their further diasem. lunation. 2nd. Think not that all trees represented to to from Miller’s, are (roni the Cumberland furaeries; for some persons have already been mistaken, by supposing that because the trees Were from Miller, they came from here; when |n fact they came from other quarters. t 3d. No person or party is authorized to sell from tills Nursery, without a written autuoity Prom the Proprietor. : Catalogues noting the main stock will be fur nished on receipt of two three ■ cent postage stamps. i Orders solicited, with an earnest desire to jnsndor justice. Address; fc DAVID MILLER, Jr., . Cumberland Nurseries, ■ . Carlisle, Pa. '. •. f■• 31 K P.T. II.E N, CE* , " : -+ ■ • ' Judge Wafts, I Judge Graham, J R. M. Henderson, I Carlisle, Pa. Lemuel Todd, < W. H. Miller, ( • October 13, 1859. Great reduction in prices i At the Ladies’Resort, RENTE’S STORE. According to our practice 'in the last i'cw weeks o( the season, we have re duced the prices of,our immense and varied [stock ol Dress'(roods to such points ns will in sure rapid sales. Regardless of prolit wo are idetorniincd to sell tlicm off! Bcrages, Bernge Robes and Double Shirts, Organdy Lawns, Grenodeans, Bhallies, &c. Freil and Silk at very low figures, Silk Mantillas at reduced prices, plain Silk Man tillas very low in price, French Lace Mantillas, Lace Mantillas, Taliyas, Points, &c. whole of my stock is now offeringjifre liided ' prices, proparaloiy to the close of the season. All I ask is the attention ol the ladies. Bivo mo a call, as I. (eel satisfied we can suit my one both as to stylo and price; -June 30. 1859. ‘ A. W. RENTE. Wiio can Sell AMELODEON. cheaper than I can ? By paying $5 per month, you can get one ol Ihe best' trielodeons in the country; at-A. B. Ew ing’s furniture rooms,'where there will bo con stantly kept on hand (ho largest and best'assort mont of MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS ever brought to Carlisle. Vlf yon wish to see a good PIANO, call and Examine mine. For purity of tone, neatness of finish, tine touch, and low price, rioriocan equal them. As lam determined fo sell musical in struments to the people ot Cumberland county cheaper than auy other person, call and exam, fno mine beioro purchasing elsewhere. HP” All instruments warranted aiid kept In ; opair. h .. JOHN It, RIIEEAL, West High! street, Carlisle. May 5,1859—6 m JOSEPH IT. STEEL, / WATCH MAKER. too lh Hanover street, a few doors south of the Court House, Having supplied mvself with a largo asaott largo assortment of sil ver plated and-steel spectacles, which I can dis posb ofcbiap.7; , : : v JOS. U. STEEL. Carlisle, Jy/ly If. 1859—1 y . ■ ■ I A'CARD. K. SMITH respectfully announ- JL/ cßsMijls old friends andformor patrons, tbatbehii| returned from bis South-western tour, wUhlja health : gre f atly Improved, and lias tosumed Wectico in Carlisle. ■ Office % jfain street, one door west of the Railroad l» e pbt, where he can 1 be found at all houtSi-dayl a nd hight, when not out profession ally. j . Oct. 27, 1859. f'TIO BE lud’aT EBY’S Grocery Store, some JL of. thvQioicost No. 1 Mackoral (withput heads,) j n Carlisle. The public is ittVitbd tdJjji wnd examine them and judge for thflnwlTj,. ■ gel). 84. 1869. Those In want of aMantilia ” w »%nd the largest and cheapest assort cheap store of - ■ ■ J. A. HGMBBIOH, Jr.' Amerimn BY JOHN B. BRATTON., VOL. 46. •fforfttfll. “HE WILL NOT WOO AGAIN.” s Twas but a word—a careless word, . In pride and passion spoken; But with'that word the charm that bound Two loving hearts was broken. The hasty wrath has passed away, • But. bitter words remain ; In vain she looks with tender glance— He will not woo again. / * No other love may light her path ; No other move ms heart; Yet changing seasons come and go,. And find them still apart; Her once bright cheek is paler now ; His bears a trace ot pain; Their days are weary, sad—and yet He will not woo again. They iheet as strangers, calm and cold, As calmly, coldly, part; And none may guess that tranquil mien Conceals a wounded heart. To him the world hath lost its light; For her all joys are vain; Nor hope, nor memory bring relief— He will not woo again. Alas | that love, long tried and warm, Should wither in an hour ; Alas! that pride o’er human hearts ‘ Should wioid such fearful power.;. Oh I. weep thou not for those who die— For them all tears are vain; ~ But weep o’er living hearts grown cold, '! Who ne’er can love again. BEAUTIFDL. STANZAS. Leaf by leaf the roses fall. Drop by drop fho spring rims dry; One by one, beyond recall. Summer beauties fade and die; But fho roses bloom again, And the spring will gush anew, In the pleasant April rain And the summer sun and dew. So in hours of deepest gloom, When the spring of gladness fall, And the roses in the bloom, Drop like maidens wan and pale; We shall find some hope that lies Like a silent gem opart, Hidden far from careless eyes, In the garden of the heart. Some.swccf hope to gladness wed. That will spring afresh and new, When griefs winter shall have fled, Giving place to rain and dew— Some sweet hope that breathes ot spring, Through the weary, weary time Budding for its blossoming, In the spirit’s glorious clime. 3ffisfHlanmio. IAIVEAS.^ 08, A SLiqui: MISTAKE. :• ?r ihsstro. W. HAMER. “ Are you-,in love ? I’ll prove it by fifty things. 0, there's no use in denying it, Cot— none in the world!” “ No use in denying what, Ophelia ? for once I am at fault in understanding you.” ‘•Now, Cotton Mather Royalslone. that is a. —a—well, if it is not a fib, it is at least an equivocation. I mean there is no use in deny ing that you are in lore —deeply, inextricably, mortally, dreadfully, in love. I’ve been- aware of it —lei me see —ever since that first party at Airs. Swan’s. Anybody with two eyes in their head, ought to have made the same discovery. You are-mortally in love with Rosahe Ander son,” and the chatterbox of a speaker, viz: Ophelia Stewanson. held her pretty finger up, and shook it at her cousin meaningly, and sau cily. too.' ' ' If a blush is any acknowledgement of a fact, then Cotton Maiher Royalstone was in love, for the tell-tale blood mounted even into his fine temples, and he cast his eyes down and played with his watch-guard almost as modestly as a girl might have done. Anybody would have joined Ophelia .Stewartson, and declared our hero to have been in love at that very moment. “ But Cousin Cot," pursued the girl in that same teasing lone, “Rosa has gone away on a visit toNiagafa. She won’t be back these three weeks, but that’s no reason why you should shoot, hang, or drown yourself; ho reason in the world. Act like a sensible fellow, and for that short space of time, resolve at least to for get iter. There is no use in-jsedping one’s self to death over what cannot be helped. Stay here, and we’li all do our. best to entertain you, I’ll sing with you, fish with you. walk with you, read to you, and if need be, fight for you. You won’t find a more self denying friend any-, where, than,l'll prove myself to be. if you’ll on ly stay here and be sensible and well behaved, as a young man ought to be during the absence of his lady love. I’ll even; write to Rosa, and beg her for your sake not to slay 100 long Now ain't I exceedingly obliging ?” and the lit tle mad cap took her dress in both hands .and waltzed across the room, and half way across the garden, before her grave cousin, with that grave, reverend name, Cotton Mather Royal stone, dould reply or stop her. At length he caught up with her and said: •• I’ll stay and be sensible PJbelo; stay and be euteftaintfr famously, if you’ll promise nib one thing. Pon’t write to Rosa; I don't want to be the means of curtailing her enjoyment In stead of writing to her,.you may talk to me about her; that, will do just as' will.” ~ , “ Agreed,”said the girl, “and now bear it in mind, dear Cot, I shall exert myself contin ually to be vastly entertaining. You, on your part, are not to be love-sick in the least; you are to be gtfave, sober, unexacting, and moSt ea sily pleased;'you are not to mention “Rosa lie,” or " waterfall,” or any other obnoxious subject-during the whole time, although I may now and then speak upon the forbidden theme myself.” . ' . . .. ! Hold! hold!” cried Gotten. “ turn about is 1 fair play, I’ve-heard that doctrine preached i from my childhood. I have no idea of pledging 1 my word that I will 'not talk upon any subject, t while your tongue is at liberty to rattle away t at will. A pretty restriction you would place mo under, truly.- No. no, Miss Ophelia. I,de- | /mur seriously;” and the young man, drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped bis ( face. f * ‘Butl shall talk sensibly, you know; give you good advice, &c. Indeed I expect I shall i bo deeply and engrossingly entertaining, when I touch upon .that subject, while you on the i contrary! O, who has not heard of the ravings . of a love-sick soul! Who has not, indeed. The young man laughed a hearty laugh. ' “ Well, cousin Phele,” he said, “ you are de termined, I see plainly, to have things all vour 1 own way, My best policy will be to yield as gracefully as I can; but don’t be too unmerci- I fill. If you are, I shall, like the lord of the for est, break away from all constraint, after- i wards prove more unlameable than ever. ; •• Oh ! I'll be very discreet, indeed; never . /ear me,” and’thegirl began her fairy-like dince ,i again upon the green sward—a dance which seemed an appropriate expression of her young and happy heart. Ophelia Siewartson was one of those fresh, laughing. Hebe-like creatures, whom it does one good to look upon. Carefully nurtured trom her earliest infancy, she knew little of grief or care. Life looked to her a sunny path strewed with flowers. She coquetted and laughed un til the dimples seemed playing bo-peep in her full, rosy cheeks. . She had a word for everybo dy and everything—a word which'sounded mar velously like the sincere expression of her heart but which, strange to say, never gave offence to anybody, but always caused a laugh. Colton Mather Boyalsione was—hem! Well —they said they were cousins, and I, not being 'very well versed in their genealogy, am not pre pared to disprove-it. May be they were cous ins—cousins in thesixteenth degree. One thing was very apparent—there was great affinity be tween the two —whether of heart or blood, it matters not. Cotton was just from college, and for the present, was safely domiciled in the neighborhood where Ophelia resided: He gen erally escorted her to parties, and it was at one of these re- unions that Ophelia professed to make the astounding discovery that Cotton was in love—dreadfully, indeed, in love. . For days afterwards, Ophelia, true to her promise, did her best to entertain him, but her sly raillery was unceasing, and perhaps nobody but Cotton Mayther Royalstone, could patient ly endure it. But endure it he did—endure it with a very good grace, and, gentle.reader, was not this another proof positive that he was dis tressingly "in love.” The weeks of Rosalie's absence had nearly glided away; she was expected home in a few days, but, nevertheless, Ophelia came in one day, and stood at her cousin’s side, with a very serious, condoling air upon her sober face:— •• Oh, cousin Col.” she said, •• I have just heard something so dreadful! I'm sure you’ll cry when I tell you all about it. Poor fellow 1 you have ray sympathies—l give them to you be forehand—it is really too bad.” What is too bad?" said the young man, wonderingly. “I cannot imagine what has happened. Nobody’s dead, I hope.” . "Oh, no! butoldMr Anderson—the strange old mortal—he’s. thrown cold water all over your matrimonial prospects, for sure.” “.Why, what has he done?” asked. Cotton, in u tone of surprise. ‘Why, ha isn’t going to let you marry Ro salie—he’s going to object—prove obstinate, as many an incorrigible papa has done before him. I’m afraid you'll have to.make a runaway match of it yet.’ To Ophelia’s surprise, the grave young man laughed a short laugh over this piece of.infor mation, and evinced no very great concern.— But he kept on questioning her, nevertheless,' “ It isn’t possible that the old fellow objects to a clever young chap like myself, is it, cousin Phele? What does he say against me?”/ ‘ Oh, ho dosen’t like you at all. Cot, hS nev er will consent to her'marrying you In'the world/ , ‘ > .... . The! yburig''mah hit' , his lips and "sanT more gravely, while he looked into bis pretty'cous in’s upturned face, “he'll wait until I am Aim,: I suppose, before he refuses me bis daughter's hand.” ' “ Ask him ! why it was all settled that you were to ask him as soon as he got home, you know.’,’ -‘No, I don’t know it, Phele; never dreamed of it.” ~ ■ ... ■ ‘ Why, Cousin Cot!’ The young man still looked gravely down in to the upturned face, and there was a iruthful expression in.his eyes that surprised her. ‘ Why Cousin Cot,’ she began again, ‘ how did you expect to gel the girl without asking for her —you haven’t intended running away with her from the first, have you?’. •No, I don’t intend now to.run away with her.’ " _ ' ' . ‘But -you'll never get her without. You are a Freemason, and old Air. Anderson is hostile towards the whole fraternity. He declares that it is a secret organization for political purpo ses, and that its tendency is the destruction of our government. He would as quickly let his daughter marry a traitor as a Freemason, he says.-’ •Ah !’ said the young man, respondingly. •And now, Cousin Cot, if you don’t run away with her. how are you going to marry ?' •I’m sure I don’t know,’he said, stroking his chin thoughllully. ‘I look to you to enligh ten me upon that point.’ •Weil, you’ll have to run away; I see no oth er chance for you.’ •With who, Phebe?’ ‘Why, how. provoking! With her you have been so madly in love with all along. Won't you do it. Cousin Cot ?’ •Yes, to be sure, I will—run with her To the ends of the earth, if need bo.’ •I knew it. I knew it.’ cried the girl,,bring ing her small white haqds together, T knew it, although you just now said you wasn’t going to marry Rosalie under any such circumstances A fig for cirmstances when anybody is dread fully in love.’ •Dreadfully in love,’ echoed Cotton. •Well, it’s all arranged—l’m to go along, 100. I always thought that it would' be fine fiun to ho in a runaway scrape.’ •Certainly you are to be there, Phele, I couldn’t get married if you were not present.' and Colton Mather stooped over and look her hand. ‘Yes, lamto be bridesmaid. But when are you going to see Rosalie about all .this ? , . •Never!’ said the young roan, emphatically. ‘Never, Cousin Cot! . How on earth can you get married without letting Rosalie know it ?—, I am curious to know.’ •Very easily. I’m thinking. It’s] little mai ler to me whether she knows about it or not.’ ‘Well, if she don’t know about it, who must then V said the girl, beginning for the first lime to feel that she had rattled on until she had per haps placed.herself in an awkward position; ‘who is to know about your Wedding, Obusin Cot?’ ‘You-ryou only, Cousin Phele. If you will? only enter into my plans, we can have a quiet home wedding in spite of old Mr. Anderson’s ill will to the Freemasons. Perhaps, after all, he will lot his daughter attend as a guest. You must be the bride instead of the bridesmaid, Cousin Phele; that will obviate all difficulties. That is the only important change I care to sug gest in vour arrangements.’ The rich crimson blood rushed all over the girl’s face and neck, and she drew her hand away from his hastily, and held it to her eyes 1 •Me 1 nie the bride.’ she murmured; ‘and you all along so dreadfully in love.' Cotton laughed one of his peculiar laughs, and took her hand again. . -'j •Yes,’ he said, ‘all along dreadfully in love, but never with Rosalie Anderson. That was your own supposition, remember. Say, Cousin Ophelia, shall we hove a wedding in spite of old Mr. Anderson’s hatred to the Freemasons. The blushing creature thought seriously on the subject for a while, and then said, archly, •it never .will do to let the enemies of Freema sonry break up weddings in any such way. If you can’t get Rosalie Anderson, why I suspect 1 shall be obliged to marry you myself. I had nfirer thought of-kbitf wajr of getting out of a -,4.T ,J -. 1 ——* • ■ - v -v. ■*• ■ ■«. •■■»— .<■ ■- “OUB COUNTRY—HAT IT BIGHT—BUT BIGHT OR, WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA| difficulty. To be Bdifc.’a home wedding will look more respedlableSMian a runaway match, and moreover, granthbother says that runa ways never turn out tveu.’ The young mail drelr' ‘Old Mr. Anderson may-:) wind. We’ll have, *' #et Phelia, dear, and leave' out. It was a happy M difficulty thus. I only;, may be hastened, fof’-yt been dreadfully in lovo-’l The wedding was has! returned from the Falls, ' alstone:— MasonicSigtiti Blessed pubh'oL darling public! bow it must be patted and petted,and«uparcd and buttered and humored and spoiled! Let not the preach ers say a word that wilLsie displeasing to the public, for.it is lender—-it is sensitive, it can not bear it! Lctno patriot give a bolus to the public, unless it be sugar,coated; for though the public is very sick, ft'flakes no more medi cine, unless by ncoidenf* And ye writers, whom heaven has blessed' tirilh pure hearts and. fruitful minds—whose pens are loaded with thought—beware how yotlkifler your merchan dise to the public ; for ifl.it should not just please its dainty stomach! -it will curl its lips.' slick up its nose, and consign/£ou to obliviou. A few days ago, I stood'hi the office of a pe riodical, the editor of always feels the public pulse before be decides on publishing any article, when a gentleman entered, ancTa' conversation ensued, which 1 give word .for word with the exception of names. The editor was examininga proof of a wood cut—said cut being a -representation of four while men being flayed alive by Indians—which was to appear in the next Slumber, when the stranger thus addressed hidf! “Are you, sir, the editor Pf the Tragical Ob-, server ■?" 1 The four white men and-iihe Indians were pushed into a pigeon: bole, he stranger was stared at through a pair of spectacles, the rims of which looked like the mouths of cannons, and the eyes behind them, like balls about to be fired; he saw the cannonballs roll fiercely for a moment, and then he heard a sepulchral voice saying, “1 have the honor to occupy that position.” , ■ ■ . , •T have called, then,” said, the stranger, “to see if I can make arrangements with .you to write for the Tragical Observer?" The mouths of the canons were pointed straight at the stranger.and the balls rolled very wildly, as the editor replied somewhat in the tone which Mr. Native Talent uses when he says, ‘tThat handkerchief, that handkerchief,” “Well, sir, what can you do in-, tho sensation line?" . ‘T do not wish,” said the stringer, “to write in that line. I want to ptepaw’a'-series of sci entific -'-V n -t The mouths ofthe turned away in disgust, as though ,e> x ’ stranger. was hot worth shooting at,‘and were .pointed once more at the four white meri and tho Indians, which the editor pulled put of the pigeon hole, and re marked: V ■ ••No use, sir—rho use! The public don’t wanl .hem—no taste for them.” • “But,” continued the stranger, “would not such articles raise the character of jour pa per?” “Yes,” replied he, “and sink my receipts. [ tell you, sir, Ijyepare a paper for the public, and I’m obligee! to publish what the public want; The public—l hate the public. The public, sir, wants blood, blood, blood ! Write me some articles stained with blood from be ginning to end, and I’ll give you your own price.” “i’-i'V’.-;'' tT have never written a bjoody artiele. sir, and do not think T ever shall; but the popular taste for reading is improving, and I think my ■articles would be read.” ; ■ ; : ••Not at all, sir. The respectable papers in ibis place have but a limiled.eirculalion, While such as mine are making fortunes. Where there is one reader for the Hotfye journal, Knick erbocker, Harper's Monthly, find such periodi cals, there are a dozen for mine..- Those papers are full of talent —mine is fuli'of bipod. Look, sir. at this paper,” takingup) the-last number of the Tragical Observer, “see the names dfltie stories, .‘The Man of Mystery,’‘The Ruffian Rifleman,’‘The Bloody Spot,’‘The Swordbf Vengeance,’etc.” ••But,’’ asked the stranger, “are not our peo ple becoming more intelligent. 1 ’ "By no means. The people, read more, it is true. But what do they read? Whyjustsuch stuff.as you find in my paper. And,-tobecan did, I’ll tell you, that if a man reads my paper one year, and does not lose ail taste.for what is improving or refining, he must bo-a salaman der. Why, sir; when I first began as in edi tor T determined to make an intellectual sheet, but the public drove me from my position, and I was obliged either to do wliat I nave done oy starve. I began to deaf in sensation and car nage, and though I have killed all true Isskd out of my own heart, yet I have pleased ; thc public, and made money rapidly!” f ■ "Well,” said the stranger, “I think I would rath.cr starve.” , Once more the cannons were pointed-straight at the visitor, and the balls seemed just ready to go off, as the editor said:;. ■ “You may say so now, but you will soon ah ter your tone—you will have to come to it; and my advice to you,.and', to. every ydhng Writer is. to seek popularity at once by—getting into the sensation line /” , _ The stranger was discouraged and left. The editor became again absorbed in the, four white men and the Indians, and I sat dow|i to give a hint to authors, about ye piiblic and tbesensa tion line.—Home Journal Boys, Help Your MoinaßS.—Wc have seen from two to six great hearty boya sitting by the kitchen stove, toasting their feet, and crack ing nuts or jokes, while their mother, a slender woman, has gon&lo.fhe wood pile for wood, to the well for the meat house to cut frozen steak fordjnner.' This is not as it should be. There is much work-.aboufc the house too hard for womenr Heavy lifting, hard extra steps, should bo done by those more able.— Boys, don’t let your mother dp it all, especially if she is a feeble woman. Hull, prosy house work* irksome enough at best. It is a long work, it being impossible to tell when it is quite done, and then on the morrow the whole is to be gone with again. There is more of it than one is apt td think. We wish some busy, all day house-worker, the arrangement of whose house is about os inconvenient as it can be, a no uncommon state of things, would count her steps for one day and let us have the result in miles; let it be noted how inanjr times* she goes into the cellar, to the wood P.He, to the pump, up and down stairs, especially how many limes from the stove to the buttery.— Morning Star* [C7»A Connecticut paper, suggests that as' the Republicans do nc& relish the prefix •> Black," they may with .propriety change their party name to Brown Republicans, in con piderationof thsir Ossawijltamie champion. fIURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1859. fflßh „. j; i BINTS; TO i ItHUBS. ■ BT -JOHir Bt^KLAP. icr tpihim and said- thistle his spite to the Wing' of our own, Anderspns entirely mgbt to get over the »Bk that the wedding ' know 1 have long .ied. Before Bosalie iphelia was Mrs. Roy anti Journal. Do Ittittwr. A Scene at the St, Loais Fair, A St. Louis correspondent of the Chicago Press furnishes the following: The most exciting accident of the Fair was the grand run away, turn-over, and smash-up among the fast men who were showing oft their horses and sulkies in the ring on Thursday af ternoon. About twenty-five horses and sulkies were firing round the ring in the presence of ten or twelve thousand persons, when one dri ver ran into the gig of another one, which fright ened his horse. : The horse bounded off at full speed, striking several other horses and sulkies, and starting them oil likewise. Within a min ute the panic and runaway feeling were com municated to almost every horse in the ring. Gigs were smashed to splinters, drivers were hurled headlong from their seats to the ground and run over; some of them held on to their reins, and were dragged along; one or two got caught with their feet in the wheels, and were hurled about in a frightful manner. Some of the horses attempted to jump over the railing among the frightened spectators. Others plunged madly for the entrance and exit places, and dashed their vehicles to pieces against the sides of the passage way. Just picture to your mind a score of high mettled horses attached to carriages, all run ning away proutiscously on the space of. an acre .. —crashing against each other, rolling over and springing up. plunging, kicking and squealing, around and across the area, in pell-mell terror and confusion, with portions of broken gigs following their heels, with their drivers rolling or dragging in the dirt among ll>e debris of sul kies and hoofs of the frighiened horses; add to this the rush of a hundred hardy men into the ring, trying to stop the horses, many of whom getting instantly kicked down and run over, and the shouts of ten thousand men and screams of five thousand women, and you can form some idea of how the scene looked to the spectator. In five minutes it was all over, and horses, men and gigs had cleared the ring. Strange to tell, no one was killed, though several received se vere contusions, and few escaped without bloody faces or soiled and torn garments. Romantic Affair, Thp.llomer (N..Y.) Republican narrated that years'hgo a Mr. T., of that city, then a young man, went to Albany to see some friends, and while there made the acquaintance of a young lady, a dressmaker in the family he was visit ing. During his slay in that city he won the affections of the dress maker, and .under prom ise of marriage, accomplished her ruin, Mr. T. left for his home,' after assuring the young lady that he would return and fulfil his engagement; blit, alas, his promise was not fulfilled—they never met again. After months of anxiety add self-upbraidings. Mr. T. returned to Albany to see tho object of his affections and marry her; he loved her, though he had so cruelly deceived her. The dressmaker had left the city, and no traces Of her could be found, lie ascertained, however, that she htuKeiven birth to a .datjKh.- jpv and afieh.Wuitmg^TOb’ticha' 1 ior'Tns rettfrfij had left the oily of her shame. Aftera fruit less effort to find her and his child, he returned to his home. Many long years have intervened: the young man has become a wealthy farmer, and is surrounded by a happy and interesting family. lie has been blessed with everything to make him happy, blit ihe recollection of that wronged one has embittered his existence, and made life most miserable—and year after year he has been untiring in his efforts to discover her or the offspring of their unhallowed love. The mother, after leaving Albany, married in one of the river counties a mechanic. The daughter remained with her mother until she had reached the age of fifteen, when, in conse quence of the ill-treatment of her step-father, she left her home and obtained a situation as a servant in the family of Mr. 8., of Troy—that gentleman having formerly , been a resident of That’ village. Soon after the young girl’s moth er died, and having no relatives to whom she | coUld look for sympathy or aid. she was per suaded, to come to this city and reside in the family of Mr. B.’s father. She accordingly ar rived'here about nine years since, and five years ago was married to a young man, a mason ' by trade. Last winter the lady’s, husband was employed to do some work for Mr. T. After the work was completed, Mr. Ti visited the mason’s, house several times fur the purpose of I carrying; produce in payment for his labor. ’Mr. T. was impressed with the appearance of '.the young man’s wife, and on inquiry ascer tained where she was from, what her mother's name was before she was married, &c., (the daughter had, been christened the name of her step-father.) and after a most thorough investi gation he became convinced that she was his long lost daughter! T.’s wife had never known of his criminal love, and he dared not reveal, it to her. For several months ho wrapt the secret in his own breast, till at last paren tal t) flection would no longer allow him silent, and bp’made himself known to his daughter, told his wife all, whq wise'y forgave him, and conserited to receive her ns one of the family. The daughter is happy in the possession of a father's love, and will be joint heir of his prop erty. Truly, '“ ‘ “Truth’s stranger than,fiction ” Doctor’s Degrees. Some years ago, the University, of St. An drews, one of the most famous in Scotland haring rather a lean treasury, resolved to re plenish it by a new branch of commerce, and announced that it would sell its Doctor’s De grees at £2O apiece. Many took advamngc of this liberal offer; and among the rest a certain minister, who thought his services would be more acceptable to his flock, were he possessed of a handle to his name, put the required sum in his purse, and went up to St. Andrews to purchase the coveted honor. A man-servant accompanied him, and-was present when his roaster, having previously footed the bill, was formally presented with the official parchment. On his return Dome the new doctor sent for his servant and addressed him as follows: . “Noo, Sandy; ye’ll ay be sure to ca’ me doctor; and gin anybody spiers, at yo about me, ye’ll aye be.sure to say the doctor’s in Ills study, or, the doctor’s engaged, or the doctor will see ye in a crack, as the case may be.” “That a’ depends.’.’ replied Sandy; “whether yo ca’me doctor too.” The reverend doctor stared. “Aye, it’s just so,” continued the other; “for when I found it cost so little. I e’en got a diploma myself. Site ye’ll just be good enough to say, doctor, put on some coals; or, doctor, bring me the whisky. And gin anybody spiers at ye about me, ye’ll bo sure to say the doctor’s in the pantry, or, the doctor’s in the stable, or, the doctor’s digging potatoes, as the caso may be.” DCT’It is perfectly well understood, or if not, it should be, that almost any husband would leap into the sea, or rush into a burning edifice to rescue a perishing wife. But to anticipate the convenience or happiness Of a wife in some small matter, tho. neglect of which would ,bo unobserved; is a more eloquent proof of tender ness. This shows a mindful fondness which wants occasion in which to express itself, and the smaller tho occasion seized upon, the more intensely affectionate is the attention paid. AT $2,00 PER ANNUM HARPER'S FEGKY TROUBLE. TRIAL OF THE PRISONERS Cook Committed for Trial—The Trial of Cop pee Concluded—Sentence of John Brown- Speech of the Prisoner—He denies any In tention to Murder , or of Treason—Brown Sentenced to be Hung on December 2d—Cop pce Found Guilty on all the Counts'. Charlestown, Va., Not. 2. Messrs. Russell and Sennat, Attorneys from Boston, reached here to-day. CODE COMMITTED FOR TRIAL. ■ Cook was brought before the magistrate's court, but waived an examination. He was committed for trial. THE TRIAL OP COPPER. Coppee’s trial was resumed. No witnesses were called for the defence. Mr. Hardingopcn ed the argument for the Commonwealth', and Messrs. Hoyt and Griswold followed for the de fendant. Mr. Hunter closed for the prosecu tion. The speeches were of marked ability. Mr. Griswold asked for several instructions, which were all granted by the court. The jury then retired. SENTENCE 0? JOHN SHOWN—HIS SPEECH. Brown was then brought into , the Court House, which was immediately thronged. The Court gave its decision on the motion to arrest judgment, overruling the objections made. On the objection that treason cannot be couimilted against a State except by a citi zen, it ruled that wherever allegiance was due, may be committed. Nearly all of the States (we believe all) have passed laws against treason.. The objections as to the form of the verdict rendered were also regarded as insuffi cient. The clerk then asked Biown whether he had anything to say why sentence should not be pronounced, when Brown stood up,'and in a clear, and distinct voice said: . “I have, may it please the Court, a fe>v words to say. “In the first place, I deny everything but what I have all along admitted—the design on ray part to free the slaves. I Intended, cer tainly, to have made a clean thing of that mat ter, as I did, last winter, when I went into Missouri and there look the slaves without the snapping of a gun bn either side, moved them through the country, and finally left them in Canada. I designed doing the same thing again, on a larger scale. That was all I inten ded. I never did intend to commit murder or treason, or to destroy property, or to excite or incite the slaves to rebellion, and to make an insurrection. “I have another objection, and that is, it is unjust that I should suffer such a penalty. Had I interfered in the manner which I admit —and which L admit has been fairly,proved, (for I admire the truthfulness and candor of the greater portion ./'jfciho witriesfjss who:hayei testi fied in this of .the rich, .IW ih\elligent,;ihe so called great, either father,, molberfl>rqiifaißlst&±yrife t flr. children, or any of that’pj.asjf'ab'd suffired and! sacrificed what T have' in jjfiis fnterfefencfe, it would have been all right.:' Every man in this Court would have deemed it aii;aot Worthy of reward rather than puivshment. This Court acknowledges, as I suppose, the validity of the law of God., I see a hook kissed here which 1 suppose to bo the’Bible, or at least the new Testament. That leaches me that ‘all things whatsoever I would ihat meii should do to me. I should do even so to them.’ It teaches mo further to remember those that arein hondsas bound with them.’ I endeavored to act up to that instruction. I say I apt yet too young to understand that God is any respecter of per sons. I believe that to have interfered, as I have done, as I have always, freely admitted I have done, in behalf of His despised poor, was no wrong, but right. Now, if it is deemed necessary that I shou'd forfeit -my life for the furtherance of the ends of justice, and mingle my blood further with the blood of my chil-. dren, and with the blood of millions in this slave country whose nights are disregarded by wicked, cruel and unjust enactments, I submit —so let it be done. Let me say one word fur-1 liter. I feel entirely satisfied with the treat-1 mcnl I have received on my trial. Considering all the circumstances, it has been more gener ous than I expected ; but I feci no conscious ness of guilt. I have staled from the first what was my intention, and what Was-nut. I never had any design against the life of any person, nor any d eposition to commit treason, or ex cite the slaves to rebel or make any general in surrection. I never encouraged any man to do so, but always discouraged any idea ot that kind. Lot mo say, also, in regard to the state ments made by some of those connected with me—l hear it has been stated by some of them that I have induced litem to join me, but the contrary is true. Ido not say this to injure them, but ns regretting their weakness. Not one joined me but of his own accord, and the greater part at their own expense. A number of them I never saw and never had a word of conversation with, till the day they canto to mo; and that was for the purpose I have sta- 1 ted. Now I have done.” .. ! While' Brown was speaking, perfect quiet prevailed. When .he had finished, the Court j proceeded to pronounce the sentence. After a j few preliminary remarks, in which he said no i reasonable doubt could exist as to, the prison er’s guilt, he sentenced him to be hung, tn pub lic, on Friday, the 2 d of December. Brown received the sentence with composure. The only demonstration made, was with the clapping of hands by one man in the crowd, who is not a resident of Jetterson county. This was promptly suppressed,and much regret vVas expressed by the citizens at its occurrence. the veedict in coppee’s case— guilt* on ALL THE COUNTS OP THE' INDICTMENT. After being out an hour, the jury in thfecaso of Coppee returned with a verdict, declaring him guilty on all the counts in the indictment. : His counsel gave notice of a motion to arrest judgment, as in Brdyvn’s case. The court then adjourned. Tire Nations Without Fins. —According to Pliny, lire was for a long time unknown, to some of the ancient Egyptians ; and wlieii.Ex odus the celebrated astronomer, showed it to ithem, they were absolutely in raptures. The /Persians, Phoenicians, Greeks and several other nations, acknowledged that their ancestors were without the use of lire; and the Chinese confess the same of their progenitors. Pomponius. Mela, Plutarch, and other ancient authors, speak of nations who, at the time they wrote, knew not the use of tiro, or had just but learned it. Pacts of the same kind are also attested by several modern nations. The inhabitants of the Marian Islands, which were discovered in 1551 had no idea of lire. Never w;as astonish ■ ment greater than theirs, when they saw it on the descent.of Magellan in one of, their islands. At first thpy believed it to be some kind of an imal that fixed to and fed upon wood. The in habitants of the Pfiillipine and Canary Islands were formally equally ignorant. Africa pre sents. even in our own day, some nations in this deplorable state. Obey your teachers. , H costs us more to be kalsefable than would make ns perfectly happy, pi 1?" * aT >y n man become four-handed } try doubling his two fists. . iP7 o Il , oran k es can bo purchased for a penny a piece, how much would a whole one coatt . DC?" The poorest coward can avoid shaking id his shoos by wearing boots, Or going barefoot. p" ip? je ]9 T 0 ] ]*e a canal boat t Because it is an internal transport. New Proverb.—A thorn Intiiobnah Is worth two id the band. . NO. 22. (£?* A man is moat properly said to bo <4 for anything” whob be Isa little mellow. The custom of wearing the. hair iba long pigtail is defined in California as CWna-tcars. man Is so deep biit that a shallow place may, bo found in him. KF* Love, while it frequently corrupts .pura hearts, ofteu.purlflcs the corrupt hearts*., . Mrs. Partington makes Shukespheresay, “ sweet are the use of advertisements.” Stow Fuii.~-ro *tole' a shot gunaroynd for nali a day, and shoot nothing, or perhaps less. The. light heart, like the vino, bleeds most rapidly when warm. richest man on earth is but a pan* per, fed and clothed by the bounty of Heaven. There is no objection to broils In a house so that they emanate from the kitchen. . An editor up in North Carolina says ho is so poor that when two dimes meet in hispock* et ho introduces them, they are such strangers*. K?" A fine woman, like a locomotive, draws a train after her, scatters the sparks, and trans* ports the mails. A youth, while gazing with wonder at' tho mummies i;i the N. Y, Egyptian Museum! thought he should much iiko “to see live ones. 1 * E? - It has been well said of tho homo of tho scolding wife, that ‘'lt’s a-bad house where tho hen crows louder than the coot.” A sailor looking Very serious in a Meth odist church, was asked by tho minister if he felt any change. “Nary red,” said Jack. P 3?“ A man who dines at different restaurants announces the discovery that in these places tender meat is always very rare. 03“ “Do you know, sir, why Mf. filowiianl has changed his politics ?”. Oh, yes, ho is one of tho small beer politicians, and bfcer’will turn. 03“ A married lady in Loudon cb., Va., Is said to weigh flVe hundred & fifty-three pounds; Her husband is a great lady’s man. p 3“ Dr. South says : “Tho tale-bearer and tho- hearer should -he hanged up together—the former by tho tongue, and the latter by. tho ear. 03“ Four things come not back.: the broken word, tile sped arrow, the past life and tho neg lected opportunity. K?” “ I’m all heart,” said a military offleerto” his comrades. « Pity you’re not part pluck,” said his superior in command. ■ , 03“ What is (ho difference betivcon a bufebor and a young lady 1 Ans.—The former kills to dress, while tho latter dresses to kill. D3 1 ” “ That’s very singular, air,” said a young :lady to a gentleman, who had just kissed her.— “ Oh my dear Miss, I will soon make it plural.” \Cy~ Night brings out stars, ns sorrow ehowi us truth; we can. never see the stars till we can see little or naught else—and thus is it with truth; , 03~ “Married people, >> says Dean Swift, “fot ; being so closely united,,are. but- the apter to» cooswlqvjng, as knots, the harder lheyar- cy “ A chap walking along the street seeing a lawyer’s office, walked in and inquired a— “ What do you keep to sell 7” “Blockheads," replied.the lawyer. “Pretty good, business I guess, I see you’ve got only one loft.” ny What strange creatures girlti are. Offer one of them good wages to work for yon, and ten chances to one if the ohf woman can spate unv of her gills; hut Jest propose matrimony, and see if they don’t Jump at he cbanpo workings li/e-timo for their victuals and clothcyi oy'«John said a father to his son, one day, when he caught him’sharing the “down” offhls upper lip, “don’t throw your shaving water ont whore there are any barefooted boys, for they might get their feet pricked.” qy A lady had just swallowed a petite glass' of wine, as a gentleman In company naked fora taste. << It la all gone,” said she laughing, “un- ’ less you take some from my lips.” I should bo most happy,” replied the gentleman’, >■ but I never take sugar In my wine.” 'ibbfl nnb (Bnk