American iH&f fllimtor. VOL. 48. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY HORNING BY JOHN It. BRATTON. TE : R M S Subscription.: —OnOfDollw and Fifty Cents, paid n advance; Two Dollars if paid within the year; and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year. These tonus will.be rigidly adhered to in every instance. No subscription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at tho option of the Editor. ... Advertisements— -Accompanied by the cash, and not e*xcceding<A>no square, will- bo inserted three times for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each additional insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion. JoD-PmNTTNGj-rSneh ns Hand-hills, Posting-bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, Ac. Ac.,, executed with accuracy dud at the shortest notice. |Wital. THE OLD CdDPLE. It stands in a sunny meadow, Tho bouse so mossy, and brown, With its cumbrous old stone chimmos, And tho gray roof sloping down. & 4 , Tho trees fold their green arms round U , The trees, a century old; And tho winds go chanting through them, And the sunbeams drop their gold., • Tho cowslips spring in tho marshes, And the roses.bloom-on tho hill; And bosido the brook in tho pastures The herds go feeding at will. The children have gone and left them; They sit in the sun alone! ‘ And the old wife’s ears are failing, As she harks to the well known tune— That won her heart in her girlhood, - T.hat has soothed her in many a care, And praises, her now for the brightness Her old fuco used, to wear. She thinks again of her bridal— How, dressed in her robe of white. She stood by her gay young lover lu the light. Oh, tho morning is.rosy as over,- But tho rose.from her.check is fled; And tho sunshine still is golden, But it falls on a silvered head-. And the girlhood-dreams, once vanished, • Como back in her winter time, Till her feeble pulses tremble , With tho thrill, of spring lime’s prime. •And lookingTo-rth .from tho window, She thinks bow the trees have grown, Since, clad in her bridal whiteness, She crossed the old door stono. Though dimmed her eyes bright azure, And dimmed her hair’s young gold; The love in her girlhood plighted HaS.nover grown dim nor Old. ■They sat in peace in tho sunshine, Till the day was almost done; And then, at its close, an angol . Stole over tho threshhold stone*' - t HXj folded'their' hddds'together—' - Ho touched their eyelids with balni ; Aud-thelr last breath-Abated upward, , Like the close of a solemn psalm. Like a bridal pair they traversed • The mystic road, That leads to the beautiful city,. \* Whoso builder and maker is God.” Perhaps in that miracle country • They will give her .heir lost youth babk; And flowers of a vanished spring-time, Will bloom in the spirit’s track; One draught from the living, waters. ■ ■ ■ Shall call back his manhood's prime; ° And' eternal years shall measure Tho lovo tbC-t outlived time. ' But, the shapes that thoy lcft behind them, The wrinkles and sil/cr hair. Made holy to u& by the kisses Thoaugel hadpHnlod there; Wo will hide away ’heath the Willows, •When the day is low, in the West: Where tho sunbeams cannot find them, Nor tho winds disturb their rest. And wo’ll suffer no toll- alo tottibstono; - 1 With-its ago and date, to riso , . , O’er tho two who'aro old no longer, lu tho Father’s Houso in tho skies. l&teliaaeGuc THE “iHillvEWilKE’S” DUG. Lortils his name was—lofty we Mostly called him for short; hut with strangers he answered to “Mister Loftus,” nothing less than that. Passengers and visitors to the ship used to try and make friends with him «n the usual coaxing way, hut he never took the least notice of them. If they had anything to say, they must call him by his proper title—talk straight out, with no non sense about “ good fellow,” or “ fine old dog,” or any such phrases ; then ho would listen re spectfully, and understand what was said, too. I sailed in the Makewako with him going on eight years, and will say I never had a bet ter shipmate. Orderly and good-natured, ho never made the least trouble, find wouldn’t allow anybody else to enter, if he could help it- I don't think he would interfere between the officers and the crow, blit when wo wore bringing emigrants Loftus would always put a stop to disturbances' among them. He would single out the loader in the fight, throw him, and hold him down.until the others came to the rescue. Sometimes lie had to throw two or three, but the steerage soon learned to stow shilalahs whenever Mr. Loftus appeared. I remember one time, we wore lying in the Wellington Dock at Liverpool, iaking on a lot of Fardownors—and the Steward had some difficulty with oho. Ilia only argument was a rope’s end, and when Lofty thought the poor Greek had enough he intimated as much' quite plainly. But by somo moans the stew ard contrived to get a line in his collar and to make it first in the main rigging; then the Fardownor had to suffer. Pretty soon the dog parted the line with his teeth, quietly wont ashore, and rolled himself over and over in the thick, black tide mud—stole 01 board again and crawled, whole length, into Mr. steward’s berth. After that he wouldn’t go to market for a long time, and on the whole, I think the steward got rather the worst of it. ' Ho did all our marketing—Loftus did, and never once made a mistake to rhy knowledge. They would try tricks with him sometimes, out wore.very likely to pay for it by loss of hie custom. He was acquainted with most of the market-men, and if one did not treat him 'roll ho would go to another. ' I sailed in Stirling & Field's Lino five years before I got to bo first mate, and then the very next voyage I camo near losing the number of my moss.* While we wore in Liv erpool tho cholera boko out among the ship ?l ng V™ W in thafc steaming mud hole Qm the first of July until tho lost of August, before we could get men enough to take the craft *to sea. Meantime wo lost poor Captain Hepworth—the beet officer in the Line—and I came pretty nigh-going too. Loftug watched me and tended mo like a true friend, and I do believe if it hadn't been for him I never could have pulled through, for there was hardly anv one to even pass a cup of water. When the new Captain came down from London he called on me, and I didn’t like his looks at all. Ho was smooth spoken enough, too, but his eyes were vicious, and I felt sure wo should have trouble. lie said the ship was quite ready for sea, and as soon as I was able we would sail. Not to make farther de J tention, I. was carried on board in a cot, and we hauled out of dock on the next tide.. In the cabin I found another cot, beside which a young lady was sitting with a fan, while Cap tain Darcy was busy preparing the state rooms. . I then learned that our cabin passen gers were an old man named, Archer and his grand-daughter Jennie. Poor old Mr. Archer! He was far too ill to undertake such a voyage, but he insisted on going with the ship, feeling sure he should re cover when the cool Atlantic breeze began to blow.. Well, the first Sunday at sea wo bur ied him. : Little Jennie Archer was left entirely alone, without a friend in the world, save an aunt in Brooklyn to whom she was going. The good, strong-hearted girl bore up bravely in that sorrowful time, and oven in her deepest grief found opportunity to render mo a thou sand kind- services. When I first began to crawl out into-the cabin I noticed Captain Darcy’s evil eye often wandering towards her ; with a .peculiar expression that alarmed mo. j I was troubled and didn’t know what to do. I could not say anything to Jennie, and, un-1 able to stand alone,-I could not in any way protect her. In this difficulty Loftus canie to my aid. Ho would guard the lone girl better than I, and his dislike to Captain Darcy was stronger even than mine. ■ . And so I contrived that Jennie and Loftus should become great friends. She was the kindest and gentlest little soul that ever lived, and the dog learned to love her more than he over did another human being. Lof ty never had a mistress, the M;ikevoke was his mistress, and he clung to the ship through all her changes, crew,, officers, and owners. But to Jennie he seemed to attach himself as dogs, usually do to their owners, or oven more closely. Afterfairly, und rstandingthat she must be watched, arid protected, he hardly I left her an hour in the day, and slept before her door at night. By the time.l was able to go about a little —and out on deck when the sun was not too warm—Tcnnie Archer had quite won my heart ends! was much hurt to find that she grew more reserved as health returned to me; the little womanly ministrations, which had been so grateful, were graduiily discontinued. Yet weovere very friendly, and being the only idlers in the after part of the ship, we were with each other a great deal. Curbing plear sant evenings,,on deck and morning readings in the cabin wei-e the happiest hours: I. had ioyor.known.;,. But I .did not believe that, I was making any progress in her affections —that is, I did not think that she would over care for me ns I did for Her. I was pleased to see, however,,that the captain’s attempts to be agreeable were quietly but decidedly re pulsed. He saw it, ton, after a while, and his hateful disposition thereafter began to show itself. He persecuted poor Jennie with out mercy whenever be could find an opportu nity, and though Loftus and I were seldom off duty, he yet contrived to.muke her suffer from his spite in a thousand ways. Her simple dignity and unswerving faith in herself du ring these trials made me love her very dear ly. Sihe never complained to mo at all, not even when 1 found her, tine time, weeping, heartbroken, and frightened, with little bits of a note from him scattered .over the floor. . Captain Darcv made no secret of his rage andvengeful temper; he.seemed to consider that ho owed defeat to me, and hated mo ac cordingly. “Yon thinkyourselfd-— d smart,” ho would say; hut I’ll show you I’m not the man to he baulked by any such whelps as you and thatdog. Yon-may do your’d—-—rest, ,but I’ll master her yet, and then I.will settle ’with t/oa, young man.” didn’t mind his threats much, knowing him to be cowardly. like other mean souls; but I kept closer watch thanever overJennio, and fed Loftus with my own hand, to which care I think he owes his life. On the thirty-fifth day out wo were off the banks, and about noon 1 went up with cap tain Darcy to take the sun. Lofty assisted in the observation, as he always did with the utmost gravity, and Miss Areher added .her smile to the brightness of the hour, happy —-thought I—to know our voyage was so nearly done. While workitig up my calcula tions I noticed the captain hastily descending the. cabin gangway 1 thought it odd he did no"t wait for the result; and directly I was f.irth or surprised to find that Loftus had also dis- I didri’t think much about it all though. . t was alone with Tier for, perhaps, the last time, and I lingered a good while be fore going below to make my entry in the log. It seemed to mo that she had never looked so kindly upon me as then, and I came very near telling her how dearly t had learned to prize her favor, and asking that it might be mine forever. But I felt as though that would bo taking a certain advantage of her needing a protector, and, in some sort presum ing upon the claim I might bo supposed to have—so the words which trembled on mV tongue wore not spoken, they had been. Entering the cabin at last, wo wore star tled by sounds of-strife, evident' struggling, fierce growls and a storm of curses. For the first time Jennie’s courage gave way; yet, even then, she seemed more hurt than afraid as she leaned against mo, sobbing, . “ Oh, Heaven I he’s in my room !” ’ And so indeed it was. Crouched down in one corner—n pitiable sight indeed—lav Capt. Darcy with Lnftus’ tooth in his throat. Ho still clutched the leather bolt which con tained Jennie’s little fortune, and in a sailor’s bag at his feet I found everything else of the least value which she possessed in the world .—overt the letters to her friends. Lottos must have seen indignation and hor ror in my face, for he immediately renewed his attack with the utmost ferocity, and it was only by Jennie’s best efforts he was prevent ed from killing the wretch on the instont—ho wouldn’t listen to me at all. As it was, Capt. Darcy had to. be carried ashore when wo ar- rived, and I remember they used the same cot that I was brought, aboard in. During the fever which followed he was delirious part of tho time, and I had gathered from his wild'talk that he had hoped, by reducing Jennie to utter poverty, he could make her dependent upon .him and submissive to his Wilh ' Thanks to Loftus, the robber was caught in the act, and I half envied the dog his reward of fond gratitude. Ho accompanied her to Brooklyn whoa her friends camo for hor, and after that ho used to run over there every day or two. As tho Captain's duties fell to my hands I was unable to leave the ship for more than a week, but as soon as I could get off I made a visit to Jennie in her new home. A very nice place it was, atvay out on Clinton Avenue, and 1 found her delighted With it, as well she might, be. Her friends, too, were just the pleasantest sort of. people, and re ceived me very kindly, L'.ut somehow I felt disappointed and uncomfortable, though I couldn't tell why for the life of mo. Jennie's manner tome was the same it always had been, except a little embarrassment she was very friendly, and confiding as ever, but yeti felt that in Clinton Avenue she was very far away from me and from the life \vo had lived together. Then, there was a good looking.ymi ng chap at the house who played on the piano and sang with Jennie, and who had all those pleasant little accomplishments which show cultivation and good-breeding. Well, I liked him—l hadn't any spite at all —but couldn’t help thinking, that 'longside Ibis fine gentleman’s graces my. plain sailor ways appeared to small advantage. So I did I not enjoy my visit as I had anticipated, but I went away ns early, ns possible, vexed and j dissatisfied with niyself and everybody else. , Captain Darcy got an idea into his unset-. | tied mind that Jennie and I were going to proceed against him for piracy on the high seas, and though I assured him that neither of. us had any . such intention, he became frightened, and suddenly; disappeared from his hotel before. I believed him able to go about. I have never soon him or hoard erf hint from that day to this. When I reported his flight to. Sterling & Field, our owners, they seemed rather glad than otherwise, and much to-my surprise immediately offered the command of theMakewake tome. During the long days of convalescence, when I could do hut little else, I had dreamed again and again of the time when I should be captain of ths Makewake, and, be in po sition to offer Jennie Archer a home as well as a heart. These had been visions of happi ness to me; hut now, when they might he re alined, their brightness faded fast—it seemed highly improbable'.that I should over make Jennie an offer of anything at all, and being captain of a liner didn’t amount to much any way. However; I accepted tho proposition I gladly enough, and thereafter staid by the ship more closely than ever. L.oftus still continued his visits to Clinton Avenue, being oyer there, indeed, at least half the time, though ho,always came home at night. My first experience there had not been of a sort to encour age my going again —so, when the Makewake was nearly ready for sea, I sent by Lnftusn note to Jennie, ap ologizing for not calling and sayinggood bye. Of course I half hoped he would bring some little reply from her—and so he .did. She wished particularly to see me, and begged I would come to her before I sailed.jrVell, I was delighted 1 I spread all the light canvhs X could carry, howled over there—gay its a lark. Tho very first thing I .saw was Jen nie walking around the grounds with that good looking young fellow—talking so ear nostly and . gazing _np.i6,.h)Rface in.sueh a [charming way—it just took mo flat aback ; I wished myself aboard ship again and out side the Hook. I don’t know hut I might have run away, only Doftiis attracted . the children’s attention, and then ’twns too late. , I had not been in the house ton minutes when I- noticed an undcr-danding of some sort between Jennie and the handsome young gentleman. ' They hade mshlfafions and side glances, and looked toward mo : —as Ithought .—and, finally, it ended in his presenting to me, on behalf of Miss Jennie Archer, a very fine gold chronometer and chain. He deliver ed it with it .little speech of which I hardly heard a word. I was so confused. Passengers aboard ship,often met in the cabin on coming into port and gave thodfficerssomethingoroth er to remember the voyage by, and I-had cer tain phrases which were always used on such occasions. I got them off now as well as I could, and. sat down in a corner to think the matter over. I.don’t like people who are over sensitive, easily grieved, and perpetually, feeling hurt. I think it generally shows amoan disposition but I do suppose that'was about’my state o mind, This, thought I, is what she wantoi meibr. This watch moans pnymoht'ih full of all demands against her ; and she didn’t want.’mo, even while going to Liverpool and back, to have an idea ’that she was under any obligation to me. A valuable gift settles the old accounts, and loaves her free to open new books. "What a fool I have been ! But I'll not bo any more—l'll never trouble her again,.that’s certain. . Such bitter, gloomy reveries as those kept coming all the afternoon. Meantime 1 hard ly knew what to do with the watch. I car ried it about in my hand a long time, and fi nally shut iip the velvet case containing it, and stuck it into my coat pocket. . I thanked Jennie in an awkward, cold way, And felt an ugly satisfaction in noticing how surprised and grieved she looked. , I do not think, how ever, that any one else perceived my spiteful temper. I never had better success among young folks than that afternoon* I determin ed to show that I didn't care for any one par ticularly, and tried my best to bo entertain ing-and agreeable to all the girls in the house —succeeding, ns I said, hotter than ever be fore. But my heart—tlio whole time—was filling more and more with sad, troubled emo tions. Gradually pride and vexation gave wny to the old tenderness for Jennie* and as I thought of tlio long, weary hours I hnd to pass, without a hope of her, in the very place where wo had so lately been happy together, I realized how Hear she had become to me —how utterly desolate and lonely I was des tined to bo. At last, I could keep up the ap pearance of cheerfulness no longer, and de termined to steal away—never to return. I looked all abodVquietly, for Loftus, and after some time found him in a lit le summer house in the garden." ’Twins now quite dusk, hut with him I recognized Jennie, her arms about his heck,-her face hidden in his long fleecy coat,' She started as I spoke, and would have run away, but LJtiis was seated upon her dross and would not move. “Tm sorry to,part old friends," I said, “hut Loftus and I must go now,, Miss Jennie. . I wanted to say " Miss Archer," but douldn'ti’ "And are you going away angry, when we i have always understood each other so well ?’* How ashamed and repentant I felt, finding i the poor girl had been crying I “No Indeed, Jennie," I answered, “I am not angry now. Forgive mo for hurting you by accepting your ; present with snob‘bad grace—l was vexed then but am nay any more. Believe me, I dp understand, and X see; you could not have told me in a more delicate way. Good-bye Miss Jennie —do not feel troubled about mo : I afterwards wished I'll try never to think of. you again as I used to." , "What have I done so dreadfully wrong that vou should change so ? Only tho watch? Is that ah ? " Pray don't think you have-done wrong. You havo always been fair and sincere,, with me arid I have only myself to blame. I shall esteem, and respect you as ever/' “OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE Ri||t—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER. 10, 1861. at ail. He walked from one to the other, growling, troubled arid perplexed. When Jennie began to ery .be seized my arm, dragged mo across tliejfloor, and palled mo down at her feet. ‘ f The darling girl her arms around my nook, nestled her'EpjMd'ful Load upon my shoulder, arid Without tt word we did under stand each other right well at last. , We have oftemtried to persuade Loftus to stay at homo and keep Jennie company while I am away in the Mak'ownko, but he never w-onld desert the ship, i Whenever we arrive in New York, though, the instant we touch the dock lie bounds tell his dear mis tress her husband hna'cume home.— Harper’s Weekly. " ' ~, ■ Perhaps the heat watermelon patch in Bucks county is that of Mr. well, “ for the sake of argument,” and to keep from hurting his feelings,' we’ll call him,.Mr. Thingumbobs— Mr. Thingumbob did not embark in that branch of horticulture to which watermelons belong, merely fbr tho fnu of the tiling. Ho went into it to. make money, and ho has done it. If Mr. Thingumbob lias a weakness for anything in the world, it is for that species of pocket furniture which, the preachers pi- I ously denounce ns “ the Vile dross of earth,” and the b’hoys style “ sponduliohs " and “ Spizzcrmotum.'.’ If ;Mrj|Thinguinbob were to suffer a watermelonbfothemarket value of fifteen cents to fall from bis cart and wreck itself against the pavemcljt, he wouldn’t get ■done feeling bad about the less within the ensuing six weeks. In, short, Mr. Thingum bob is the stingiest man you ever saw, and if ho ever dies of a broken licart. it will be over the loss of a shilling. You have often seen such men, hav’nt you? Last Saturday Mr. Thingumliob brought a load bf watermelons to town, and as wo ga zed into the cart whore they reposed in sul-’ leu grandeur upon their pullet of straw, we remarked to; a oonsidorablbbumbor of spec tators, and to the comm unlit at large, that II they are indeed very fine’’ I —-a remark which, wo are proud to perceive,/elicted the .cordial though silent approbation gf everybody with dn„tb& squi.4- than finished the observation, when up conics Blynks, and says to Mr. Thingumbob: I “ Stranger, these melons .of yours are per fect whales—l’d like to swindle you out of ' one of them." ... “ Well,” said Mr. Thingumbob, “if yon can swindle me out of one of them, you are welcome toft.” “Oh, I was merely joking.about.that,”said Blynks, “ Butroally, I am very fond of water melons, and can probably oat more of them | than any six men you oversaw; it’sastonish ing what a quantity it takes to do mo. How many of those large ones there of yours do you suppose I could eat: ” , “IVhy,” said Mr. Thingumbob, measuring the size of Blynk's mouth with his eyes, and casting them down till they rested at a point near the lower extremity of his vest,- “,I don’t suppose from your looks that you could oat more than one.” “One! why, great goodncssstrahger, what are you talking about? I’ll tell you what I’ll do—if you’ll furnish mo six of the best you’ve got, and if I don’t eat them every one, I’ll make you a present of the finest hat in town.” Mr. Thingumbob looked, at Blynks with both eyes wide open ; then took off his hat and looked at that, and then clapping it on his head and pressing it firmly, exclaimed: “ If I don’t do it blow me.” “ All right,” said Blynks, “hand out half a dozen.” Mr. Thingumbob began to hand out the “ perfect whales," one. by,one, while Blynks laid them down on the pavement with their ends against the curbstone. . “ Hold on,” exclaimed Mr. Thingumbob, as ho rested the last one on the side of the wag on-bed, ready to bo lifted off, “suppose you should eat’orn all up, who’s to pay for ’em ?” “ Nobody, of course,’! answered Blynks, “in that case you lose; but if I fail to eat them then I lose, and am to give you a ten dollar lint." “ Go ahead,” said Mr. Thingumbob, hand in? down the sixth and last melon. Blynks drew forth his jack-knife, and say ing to the bystanders, as he seated himself on the curh-stoUo, with his foot in the gutter, '‘Gentlemen, 1 would like to invite you to join mo, but circumstances over Which I have no control, force mo to withhold the courtesy,” he split the best looking melon in two, and taking one-half of it oh his lap, Commenced leisurely to eat it,' “ Well,” said-ho, after having finished it, rising and W>P)ng the blade of his knife with tho tail of his onnt, “ that will about do me for this time; I’ll lay that.other half away till after dinner ; I’ll try another after sup per, and I think by about Monday night or Tuesday morning I will wipe out tho pile.” “Hallo!” exclaimed Mr. Thingumbob, springing to his feet in tho cart, “ that won’t do —you wo got to finish them now.” “ Finhh them now ? What the deuce do yon mean by that? I hope youdon’t expect mo to oat them all at once ?” “Of course 1,d0,” said Mr. Thingumbob, excitedly “ that’s what you said you would do, and you’ve got to do it.” “ Look here; old man, I bet you a new hat that I could oat six of your watermelons, but I didn’t tell you I would sit down in tho pub lic street and make a confounded hog of my self.” • Than nay moforthoone you’ve out open,” said Mr. 'lh ngumbob. “ I shan’t do any such thing,” said Mr. Blynks, “I am still willing to eat the bal ance of the pile ; but if I do, I am going to take my time for it." “ I seo now what you’ve bodn after all tho time—youjust wanted toswindlo mo out of a watermelon.” “And, you think I've done it, too, don’t you?” • ■ ' “Yea, I’ll bo'clarncdirt don’tT'Trutyou’vy got to pay for it, or there will be aflght right “ Payj.you for it ?—-bo hanged 1 Why, didn’t you tear mo at the start, that if X, could swindle, you.put of one X would bo welcome to “TV>II—yes—X b«Ii«T9 I did," laid Mr. “>Wo may be friebds, thou 1 You will visit me when you return ?” “ No, no, Jennie, : tl-could not do that. If you ever need mei*r-Blmn be only too happy to serve you; but, otherwise I hope this will be our last meetingiiftho world. After ail you have been to me, ond'all I have dreamed you might be, I could 1 not bear toosce you happy with another, even though bo is more worthy of you.” ' ;r . 1 Sho turned away, covering her face with her dear little bands,.’sobbing as if her heart would break :, “ Oh, mother, what shall I do! what shall I do 1” -, I had been standing at tho doorof the sum mer-house, much farther away from Jennie than I used to be ih;<mr talks aboard the Makewake, aud Lofty qid.not understand it HOW BIYSK’S WON THE WJTEItfIELO; Thingumbob, shoving his hat aside and scratching his head, “but you told me you were only joking." , “ And 1 toll you so now. I’ve been jok ing along, and if you can't see the point of the joke by this time, you are igjgreater eight bigger fool than I took you to be.” ■ Mr; Thingumbob put his watermelons back into the cart In silence, and almost in tears, kicked the unfinished half into the gutter, and mounting his vehicle, drove slowly across the square. About half an hour after, wb saw him driv ing alone, crying at the lop of his voice! “Heb-r-b’s them watermelons 1" A Touching Incident. What parent on rending the annexed ex tract, can fail to reflect on the lesson it sug gests? How important that when the parent has departed, the example left behind may be such as the child may be thankful for. To watch for and train the budding thoughts of an artless child is one of the noblest offices that father or mother can fill. Truoly it has been said that “out of the mouths of babeis and sucklings” strcnth lias been ordained. What could give greater strength to the wid owed heart, than such a scene with her little daughter. She knelt at the accustomed hour to thank God for the mercies of the day, and pray for his care during the coming night; then as u sual came the earnest “God bless dear mother” —but the prayer was stilled, the little hand Unclasped, ond-a look of agony and wonder met the mother’s eye ns the words of hopeful sorrow burst from the kneeling child: “I can not pray for father any morel” Since her lit tle lips had been able to form the dear name, she prayed for a blessing upon it; it had fol lowed close after mother’s name, fur he had said that must come first, and .now to say the familiar prayer, and • leave her father out. No wonder the pew-thought seemed too nuich for the childish mind to receive. I waited some moments that she might con quer her emotion, and then urged her to go on. Her pleading eyes mot mine, and with a voice that faltered-almost too much for utter ance,.she said.: “Oh mother, I cannot leave him all out, let me say “thank God that I had a dear father once! so I coin still goon and keep him,in my prayers.” And so she always docs, and my stricken heart learned-a lesson from the lov ing ingenuity of ray child. Remember to thank'God foP’the mercies of the past, as well as the blessings of the future. Spirited Cav.u.rv Horses.—A writer who professes to know the points of a good “war horse” thus speaks of these aiiiinals: ' “ Dull, sluggish horses can never bp trained to the point requisite for an efficient cavalry horse. Almost as much depends, in a suc cessful charge of cavalry, on the horses as on the man. Indeed it may be doubted wether ■aw recruits mounted on well, drilled, horses would hot lie moiV sei'vici?abl6 than veteran troops mounted on clumsy, “low-spirited” an-' imals. At the hattlc of the pyramids the hor ses of Muzad Bey’s cavalry charged, repeated ly in squadrons after their riders were killed. So did the .French horses at Waterloo on the English, under the same .circumstances.' And after the Marquis Humana was' com pelled to leave his horses on the shores of Den mark, after tho embarkation of the troops for Spain, we all remember, how they formed themselves into two hostile armies, ns the ships of their late masters faded in the dis tance, arid charged upon each other with such fury that the earth shoo'k, for miles around, and the terrified inhabitants of the country fled panic stricken to their horses. So terri ble was the slaughter of those find Andalusi an horses, that out of a body of 10,000, but a few hundred remained alive A Krss in tue Dark.—The editor of the Cincinnati Nonpareil, recently had occasion to. pay a visit to Dayton in the oars. lie says ho noticed a gentleman and a lady seated in close juxtaposition, and judging from their conduct, one-would imagine they wore exceed iy intimate. In front of the comfortable pair sat, two gentlemen, editors of the two German papers in this city. When near Dayton the train passed through a long dark bridge. — Amidst the thundering and rattling of the cars, a very suspicious concussion was heard by those nearest the lady and gentleman al luded to. As we.emerged into the daylight one of the German editors slowly drawing his spectacles down over his nose, exclaimed,' “ Yell, 1 links dat ish a tam pad pridge, 7 hears him crack one, two, three, four times!" The lady drew down her veil, and for the remainder of the trip the pair looked mute and quiet. HussiVx Wife Show.— The wife show is now the last lingering relic of What was once a popular national custom. Here the sons and daughters of tradesmen wore wont to as semble to select their partners for life. The girls would come decked out in all the valun ulo ornaments the family could raise, and sometimes carry in their hands a bunch of silver teaspoons, or playing gracefully wi :h a largo silver ladle as it Were a fan; while the young men, also appearing to the best advan tage, would stroll by them; and, on seeing any young lady who particularly struck their fancy, would politely inquire about her dower from the parents, who invariably accompa nied the blushing damsels. The custom so far exists to the present day, that had I been matrimonially disposed, I might have selected a. wife without even the trouble of advertising, to say nothing of saving the time which the more conventional customs of my native land doomed requisite for a courtship. Didm’t AA'ant to be a Widow-. — A nmn in La Croaso, AViaconsin, a few das ago, rushed in tho rivor, swearing that ho would drown himself. AVlion ho had waded into thodopth of his waist, his wife seized him by tho hair, and then, as a local editor describes it, she “led him back till they reached a place where the water was about two foot deep ; where she pulled him over backwards, soused him un der, and pulled his head up again. ‘Drown yourself—(down he went)—leave roe to fath er the brats I— (another plunge)—get drunk I —(another souse)—and start for the river!— (another dip)—-Dll him ye to leave me a wid ow, and all the men at tho war 1 ’ After souseing him to her heart's content, she led him into the house and closed the door. (C7”A cynical individual on reading a pa thetic story in one of tho papers, noted in his memorandum book as follows: Somebody, whistled, teacher calls up big boy on suspic ion. Big boy comes up and holds out his handrsullen-and-iavage:-—Noblo“little~boy comes manfully forward and says “ It was I whistled, sir,” at tho same time extending his hand. Teacher simmers down and lets ’em both off. (Mom. —Noble little buy thought teacher would not lick him if he told the truth, but knew big boy would lick him if he didn’t.) A Qceer Story, The study of Words. The Philadelphia North American says, at One cannot claim to have power over lan the head of a file of men on their way from guago who is unacquainted with words. Hi« New York to Washington,-through this city, I acquaintance ought to bo larger than he can we encountered a man who has probably seen I gain from the best dictionaries. This is es as much of real life as any other person liv- j sential, as is also a wide knowledge of books ing, Louis Napoleon alone excepted, Cap- in general, and of the use of words that may tain B. ton years ago was a log cutter or wood !be understood by general reading. Yet even chopper in the Clearfield pineries, working in this knowledge is meagre. It is like the ao tho employ of ex Govenor Bigler. He lived quaintance one has with the faces ho often in a cabin entirely alone, miles away from meets in the streets, while the criticism of the any settler, and where the silence oft lie ft rest passions, tastes, and proclivities of each man was broken by no other sounds than the strokes is somewhat like the knowledge of indiyidu of his axe or the baying of his dbg when up- al words which every one ought to possess who on the track of a deer. He was bitten, one pretends to write well in his own language, day in mid-summer, by a monstrous rattle- There is, indeed, no bettor method of com smiko, hut never losing his presence of mind, ing to a knowledge of words than by studying he dug but the wound with his hunting knife, them in many books. Words are marvelously and pounding into powder his blackened to- like men. They are affeetd by oircumetan bncco pipe he moistened it with saliva and ces, they possess more or less individuality as hound it upon the wound. 'The poison Was men do; they have moods, are subject to ohan drawn to the surface by the application, and- ges, ns men often are; they belong to many excepting a rigidity of limb, which still re- families, and those to different notions, each' mains, he experienced no. further ill effects of which possesses its peculiarities, from the deadly bite. t This simile I would use at present more OS . On one of his few visits to the town of Clear an introduction to the matter which follows,, field, for a supply of tobacco and whisky, he than for any deeper purpose that the reader chanced to save from drowning the child of a might attribute to me. I appeal to this rcaem wealthy citizen, who rewarded him by a pres- bianco to bespeak a favorable reception by ent of three hundred dollars.' The man never him, of tbemetbod of. free quotation I intend returned to bis cabin, but receiving the wa- to employ, although at Some time, the courso ges due to him be set but for Philadelphia, I take may approve the doctrine more closely, where he engaged a teacher, and in a brief Books are accustomed to teach that we must period taught himself to read. Tic was preach- leiirn the origin, nest the. etymology, and nf ing shortly after this, hut finding himself pur- torwards the Use of words we .study. But’ suing a mistaken vocation he blossomed out Kichardsou’s Dictionary will supply each of as a cancer doctor, in, which capacity ho trnv- these facts at too easy rate. It is altogether oiled over the entire west and south, return- too ready to be sought for any other purpose ing to Now York with about three thousand than reference, yet I question wether a better | dollars. Ho married a wealthy widow in medium is at hand for followlng.qut just tha : New York,’who died a month after her mar- courso that books indicate. "...-A ringe, leaving him:heir to every dollar. He When these material have been winnowed a second venture six months afterward, till nought appears to him except chaff, :a wide bis wife eloping at the end of the honeymoon field yet remains for the ardor of and onerget with a native of Hamburg returning with a i« laborer. He may strike out boldly; sure, pile to his own city. Disgusted with the sex though he only gleans, of gathering not senu ho eschewed woman’s society, and went to tily, where those who were bolder apdstrong speculating in patent rights, and with a sort or than he, have reaped bountifully, of success that in a. year cleaned him out of, . This, yet new ground for future .discover the last dollar. lie secured a position upon ies, is the range of English classics, ton sol the police force of New York, and in the dnm assigned an excellent position by those course of his duty canie upon a discharged who would bo called scholars, and sometimes convict. The convict gave him certain infer- left entirely out.of view by men from whom mation, the truth of Which ho could not doubt, we ought to expect broad scope of thought. A heavy robbery had been committed on the It is not inaccessible. Chaucer, Shnkspearo, continent; The convict had been.engaged in ’Milton, Jeremy Taylor, four representative it, and know where the plunder was still se- authors, four favorite writers, may be had at creted. Tho rover purchased the secret from the book-stores, or ordered from metropolitan the fellow, went to Europe, disclosed it’to the publishers, at a moderate . pecuniary cost, authorities, and was made (lie possessor of a No one knows who Ims not already proved it, reward amounting to about SBOOO. how much that is worth learning of words .With tins money he returned to New York r| my be gained in an observation reading of and then to P, iladclphin. At tho Girard these books. • They do know that study them, House one night he met a Texan, who won how often in seeking for the meaning of a. from him four, thousand dollars at a single word by its use, exquisite beauties of thought, sitting. The society of the gambler charmed concealed before, are all at once exposed to him, and ho went, with hiin to Galveston, tS- eight. . king the-remainder of his capital with him. As a chid would lead its playmate through •He went upon a.ranche, and was engaged in the fields in pursuit of tho flowers he bad dis alj.eep grazing, with Hon. Amns.KondaU as a covered, so,would one better qualified by his I ncair peighlijir..;...Secession Awoke out atylaat, jintefest-than hie Bxperienoein the capacity of and.our rover was compelled to fly hy night guide, lead thee gentle render, where strong Ito Galveston, where he got upon a vessel men have before trodden, that he loves to con* bound for Cuba without any other possessions template in the flowery fields of literature, than the clothes upon his person." He was Chaucer is an bid poet. He is the father of twice wrecked in returning to New York, English poetry, His stylo is vigorous, sim where he arrived a mere bundle of skin and I pie, powerful, yet adorned; with true poetic bones, .\ 4 I grace. Arid it is so delicately shadowed with- Aftor alternate wealth and poverty, sfhrva- in tho’ obscurity of an incident dialect that tion and luxuriousnesa, nakedness and dandy- the curiosity of the reader is added to his de ism, he at length turns up as an officer in a light in the contemplation of tho poet’s ima- I military company, asking only to give h!s life P ca - Geoffrey Chaucer lived four hundred 1 for the cause of liberty Ho loaves in Texas years ago, hi England. His history is just a I a fine rancho. His sheep, he supposes, have little obscure, his character little known. But lorigsiiice been’confiscated to’feed tliercbelar- bis works have existed from the days’of man my. For his real estate ho lias no fears. Its' lisoripts through tlireoccnturiscsoftypography confiscation, when United States laws return and they are fresh and beautiful to-day, in force; xvill again be enforced, in Texas, as well as in Secessiain general, he firmly be lieves. Such men as he are the best possible soldiers. They not only avenge the wrongs of tho North, but are fighting for their own prop erty. The more wo have of them the better, A Good One.—As a representative of the “fluid sod” was helping Mr. Blank to get a safe in his office one day, and not being ac quainted with the article, inquired what }t was, for ? ■ “To prevent papers and other articles which are placed in it from being burnt in case of fire,” said B. “An’ ailro will nothing ivir burn that is put in that iron thVunk ?” “ No.“ “ Well, thin, yer honor, ye’d bettor bo af ther getting into that same when you die." Mr. Blank told him to open the windows and let the Cool air in. Ei.oq&enCe.— A negroorntor thus concludes an account of the death of a colored brother: "Do last word dat lio was hoard to say, do last word ho was known to speak, do last word ho was noticed to utter, do last word he ehor pronounced, do last syllable, ho heahed, do last idoa ho ober ejaculated ; yes. my brod ron, do berry last word ho was known to breavo forth, sound or articulate, was ‘Glo- ry Suoli amplified perorations are sometimes to bc-heard from orators of renown. Spurgeon.— The following anecdote is told of Spurgeon : An elderly minister called up on him congratulating him upon his success, and mildly rebuking him for his eccentrici ties. Mr. Spurgeon took til roe p’enco out of his pocket, and said I “ Dr. B.,.the other day I was so annoyed by an organ-grinder that I gave the man three pence to go away. Now. will you take the same sum, or shall 1 make it six-pence? ” !C7“John Brown, jr„ son of the loader at Harper’s Ferry, is successfully canvassing the region of Titusville, Pa., for, picked riflemen. . Ho travels In gray shirt and trowsors, with largo revolver and howio knife protruding from his pockets. lie is a largo, muscular man, and is supposed to bo a man of muscle, with desperate resolves, anxious to avenge the death of his father. (£7* A Zouave having his hair cropped close to his skin, had just taken his sent and thrown off his hat, showing a skull suggestive of n whitewood scrubbing brush with most of the bristles worn off. “ Suppose you iron tod to bother that Zou ave completely,” said a lady to her compan ion, “would you know how to doit?” “ Not especially, answered her escort. ' “Well, I’ll tell you,” said the bright-eyed vixen, “ask him for a lock of his hair." .o*At an evening party lately, a young man from England was boasting of the pedi gree, wealth and importance of his ancestors. ‘‘Oh yes,” Baid H., ‘‘yoUriatlicr and mine spent part of their lives together.” “ Where was that?” sharply replied the other. “In the Bloomingdalo poor house,” was the stinging reply. CT - It is a torture to enemies. to return their injuries with kindness. A father came home from his business at an early evening, and took his iittlegirl upot) his knee. After, a few drovd-like caresses, she crept to his bosom and fell asleep. He carried himself to her chamber, and said, “ Nellie would not like to go to bed and say her prayers.*’ Half opening her large blue eyes, the dreamily articulated, ‘ - “Now 1 lay hie down to sleep, 1 pray the Lord—’’ then adding in a sweet murmer, “ He knows the rest,” she sank on her pillow, in His watchful cure who “givoth his beloved sleep.” Precocious; —ln one of bur borough schools not long ago, a member of the committee asked the niombers of a class which was un der examination : “What was the cause of the saltncss of the ocean ?” Soon one little girl raised her hand, flushed with the discovery which had flashed upon her mind. ‘You may toll,” said the committee man, “Salt fish, sir,” said the pupil. The committee man immediately proceeded to the next class. No SnbPEit Eater. —“ Reflect, my breth ren," exhorted a chaplain, .‘‘ that whosoever falls this day in battle, sups to-night in Para dise.” The fight began, the ranks wavered, the chaplain took to his heels, when a soldier reproachfully j-oferred him to the promised supper in Paradise. ‘‘ True,, my son, true,” said the chaplain, “ but I never eat supper.” O' Two gentlemen noted for (ficirTjbnd* ness of exaggeration, were discussing- the fare at the different hotels. One observed that nt his hotel he had tea so strong that it was necessaryto confine it in an iron vessel, “At mine,” said the other, “it was so weak it had no strength to run out of the tosspot.” I A school-boy having good-naturedly helped (another in a difficult cyphering lesson, was I angrily questioned by the Dominie. “ Why did you work this lesson?” “ To Ussen his work,” replied the young ster. “ I wish that boy belonged to me,” said old Roger. “ What would you do with him? ” “ I’d p-p-’pnirit his funeral for d-day after to-morrow, and I’d s-s-seo that he was ready.” Don’t you think I would make an ex cellent soldier ? ” said a timid gentleman to his wife. “ Tes, indeed, an admirable yrauny-dear.” l£7“Qnod faith is the richest exchequer of Governments', for the more it is drawn upon, the firmer it is, and its resources increase with its payments; An exchange gives the substance of the verdict of a recent coroners jury on a man who had died in a state of inebriation;— -‘■-Death-from - hnngmgnrnnnd'aTuarshop;” ' OC7” An advertisement in a newspaper is tike a circle in the water, continually spread ing itself. Throw in yourrocks and try’it. OIT* Wo rather think that the most reluc tant slave to tu’ee that we ever saw was a poor fellow who had his fingers in one. NO. 18. ‘
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers