EOl; is. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER rCBLISHBA fcVCUV TIICUSDAV MOUSING iIV josjm n. memos. TEUJI S. Smscim-noN*. —One DeJW «ml Fifty Cents, ' n mlvanee ;Two. Dollars if paul; within the year; aud Tw« OoU-sivs ami FSfty flouts. H' hot paid within frlhc.yoal-. Tl'cso S(**(*iAs ’ivill lie rigidly adhered to in l bVtvy hWI?*.i“JC. No subscription diseonLiuucd until Hi.ll arreerata-’i are paid unices at the option ot the Editor. . ‘ . AnviiUTiSHM tIXTS; —Accompanied hy the cash, and ‘not‘exceeding one stpiii , ru.;.wlll be-inserted three times lor One Dollar, and. lAventy-liyc cents lorcaeh additional insertiou. ’ Those ot a creator. -length in proportion.. Jun-PiUNTiN-c; —Shell us Unnd-bilU. Posting-hills. Pariiphlots, Plunks. Labels, Ac. Ac., executed with lieeiuMcy and at the shortest notice. ; pottiral. Every wo-when I’m returning,' . P’rom tfio labors or' the day, "■ At * I pa?.-* a lonly «ol Tluit U riilliitfr'lo decay. I behold n p;iti.’iit v.'miijui the little window pane, I.nuking with sin air expectant Down the narrow crassy lane. '• Whitv afl .‘••now her scanty Iressrs. Wrinkles 0:; In.r tiimij.'.iillal hroiv, And her rheeks are I'm y .Wed det.ply With tin; lines that Time can plow, winters ainl dreary From their heavy ohmds have shed .Makes of never ehanyinjc w hilum.ss O.i lilt.* patient womans head. I'll Iy years a;;o her liner .S'ti.o'l hesidn low in the lane, Srhiyinir as th'ey ilepnr . d—• Hannah, Sunday ni.cn: HI come airaia : ],yt nos ace you a! tire window As I h:u=i> nup the lane— , (iml 1 e whh yon. dear": remember, S' p u, ■ l’ 1 en e ayah 33>.it I ltd*, re that precious rvenhij;, .S'vyeeter to Unit tmtidi n’s mind Than a h.;»l of early violets • Kis-cd hy the - .til So April w;nd, Cc me to l.'loss her with its presence, l,onjiiii,cl> lor whieh .she sighed, Hv die uund hejovyd layer That eve’rlili s.ui a maiden—died. Well—a day inr lovinir Hannah ; , When ,l hev ltd 1 Inv he was dead, 3 ler uevolvd*mind for. nr Fr«.m its Tattered mansion lied, O-.nile as an ApriJ Minhvain,.. I'atier.l as a mother's I' l v\&: Jlopelhl as the .vn..vs; Christian Who hath mewivvl l.is i.opis above; She throat:h all tims-- iil’iy -winter:* tin'll, lull vv d I v tv el. ayain IiUM-d am! ns of old lime When tin V p,.r.ed in the lams, J'lvery.dnv to In'* l, >•' •‘*’uno:iy. Ami he!.in.l »S»v wimh-w pane JS,vvr,v-«v«*BJ»«,'*dl ik l,l “ wniejms JbWJier lover liuwh Uie Umv.. tiniiMi. nr ai.o i; cAiiy Thcv 11 yu miiiiloriiyu'. ihcy nr.c laurelling— limb.-hcW lii.iir irimijiUnK riillu! They nru imnii-l:. ii'ining, coming! A hundred lliLin.-.ii.d .-in. l .]* Trim? tho granite hills. (lie sen-side, In solid rui.lir life wnil.-i, A Itiousiind no'ii i-> lithe (|m place Kvcrv iiinii liiii.i I.illfit Wight mi ncro.-s llio midnight, ' i(i"lii'iiiiireiil. ,‘un mill iii'oml, Tlifir red lln ( -,- .-hilling ns they comp JiilvC morning on a cloud.. Jlntlnlion on ! iittnlioli T|iu west il« bravery ponra Tor (lie colors lindV own hand lias spt ■ Tn (ho hindics jif tlicir doors 1 In (lie woods and in the clearings Onr lovers. Inolliers, sons, Our voting men and our bid men Arc slnmlderjdg their gnus. They have hoard tho hnglo blowing— Heard (ho thunder of the drum, And farther thn.n tho eye cun see They come, and eome, and come 1 BJiacßllaiimifl. SMALL SIVIMS. A, srpuv FOtl THE TIMES. “ I dnn't see how Holmes does it,” said John Stetson, with a puzzled fcxprossion. “Does What?” asked his wile, looking tip from Tier sewing. “Why, save so much money from his sala ry, to be sure.” “Then he does save, does lie?” “ Von know the half-aero lot adjoining his house V “ Yes.” , “ Well, lie has just houghtit for a hundred dollars, and, what is more, paid for it out of money saved from his salary this year.” “ flow does his salary compaio with yours?” “Ho has only seven hundred dollars a year, while I have oipjtit. Then our families are tho same ; each of us have two children,” “ Yet 1 am afraid that you don't save near that amount." “ No, I guess not. The fact is, if I ’find myself square at the end of the year, I think myself lucky.” “ And yet, John,” said his wife, gravely, “it seems to mo as if wo ought to lay by something.” “It is easy enough to say that; but the .question is, how are we going to do it?: — ■JL'hero’s Mary’s music lessons at ton dolUfrs a qua-ter. That’s the only way I can think of, .and I shouldn't want to stop these.” ■“ No, of course not; but isn’t there any ether way ?” “ Not that I know of.” “ Don’t you think, John, the .little inciden tal expenses cost more than you think for?” “ Such as what ?” “Cigars, ice-cream, oysters, the theatre, and so on.” John Stetson winced a little. “ They are mere trifles,” said ho, carelessly. •" A few cents each time. Pooh 1 they would make precious little difference at the end of the year.” “ You know thofe’s an old proverb— ‘ Many a little makes a mickle.’ ” •-—-—Pshaw-!—-I-hatoproverbs;—-Besidesrthese little things are really of very little account. A than doesn’t fool the sum ho pays out, and it it didn’t go in oho way it would in another.” “ How many cigars do you smoko daily ?” pursued his wife.” “ Throe.” ‘‘ And bow much do you pay for them?’’ Four cents apiece.” “ That would make twelve cents.’’ And what’s twelve cents ?” " Nut iniicli in itself ; but multiplied by a| larger number, it amounts to something.” *• Wiiat ere you driving at,..wife ?” , “ I am goipg 1° make u proposition to you, . “ I’m nil attention.” _ . . “ You suy yuu don’t mind a few cents a day/” . •• Of course not.” “Then I'propose-that .ft 'small box be ob tained, with a slit iu the lid, just like the children's tin savings’ boxes, in short,-only larger ; and Unit fur every cent yim spend for cigars, iee-urcam. theatres,'or any such luxury, you deposit an ci|iml.sum. in- the box.” John iSlctsmi-laughed. . '• • “1 dare say,”, be remarked, “it would bring me-out a. perfect Croesus at the end of the year,”. , •• IHi you agree ?” asked bis wife; with some appearance of anxiety. , -• Yes, 1 have mi great objection, if you de sire.it, though 1 'acknowledge it seems a little ti.ol.isli unci childish.” "Never mind about that. I have your promise,, and we’ll try. the experiment one year. It. it chiesn’t amount to enough to iinike it an object, thou it will bo time to give Yon must take the entire trouble of it. I can't engage to do anything about itexoept to furnish the money when it is called for." That is.all I shall require-of you. But I .dial! e\peet you to give an account every night of- all that you 'have disbursed in .the iuiys I spoko'of, aim to bo prepared with an equal amount of oliango for deposit:’’ ■ Very well. I’ll try.” , This conversation took place at the break fast laldc.. Having drained his .second cup of caller, John Stetson put on his overcoat .and took his way to liis place, of business. I may as well'mention in this connection that ho was cashier of a bank, and as his duties occu pied hint only a few hours in the day, he was more likely, from Ihe leisure which he enjoy ed to indulge in small'cxpenscs. “ My wife is an enthusiast,” thought bo, as ho was walking down town. “ However her hohby won’t cost much, so I might as well indulge her in it.” Uc stopped into a store and procured his daily allowance of cigars. .Meanwhile Mrs. Stetson proceeded to the shop of a cabinet maker. “I want yiur? 1 said she, “to. make mo a mahogany box. twelve inches long, the other dimensions being four inches each. In the center of the top ip to he a slit, largo enough to admit the largest silver coin.” “ A money- box,” said the cabinet-maker. “ Yea.” “ Pretty large for that, isn’t it ?” “ Bather,” said Mrs. Stetson, smiling; “but better too large limn too small.” John Stetson fell in with a conipanion in the afternoon, with whom he had a social chat. As they were walking leisurely along, they passed an oyster saloon. Stetson was particularly fond of the bivalves, and he proposed that they should go in'and take some. “ To this liisfriend did not demur, and they, accordingly entered. Two (dates'of oysters' edme to twenty-five cents.. Besides this, they took a glass, of ale each, which made twelve cents more. This brought the bill up'to thir ty-seven cents, .which Stetson paid. Accord ingly, adding to this twelve cents for cigars, he deposited fortyriiine cents in his.wife’s inui.d that evening. • ' “ I might as well make it fifty;” said he; smiling. “No,” said,she, not a cent' over. I want the savings to represent- exactly what yon spend on those little luxuries, and no more.” Tlie next evening tic-had nothing to deposit except the usual amount for cigars. “ It won’t mount up. very fast at that rate,” said he, triumphantly, - “Never mind," said his wife; “I don’t want you to increase your expenditures on my account. lam inclined to think that they will not be often ns small as this.” She was right. The next day, being Wednesday, John Stet son brought homo a couple of tickets for the theatre. It was a benefit night, and ho was anxious Unit his wife should go. “ Certainly, ’’.said she, “I shall bo glad, to go ; lint yon remember our compact?” n What?” “ How much did you pay for the' tickets?” “ Fifty cents apiece.” “ That will make a dollar. Please hand me that amount for o.ur fund.” „ “Was the theatre included ?” said John, a little reluctantly. “ Certainly. That was expressly men tioned.” “ Oh, well, then, so lot it be. Hero is a silver dollar.” The dollar was at once dropped into the box. The next day, in passing a shop window, Stetson noticed smiio fine oranges. “ Just what Mary and the children would like,” thought be. I’ll go in and inquire the price.” They were four cents apiece. Ho bought half-a-dozen, at a cost of a quarter, whiuli, with his cigar money left him thirty-seven cents to doposite. The succeeding day he spent nothing, ex cept for cigars. On Saturday ho stopped into a confectionary establishment with a friend ami had a lunch. This brought that day’s account up to forty cents. When his wife added up the daily sums, she found to her own surprise oven, that she had received from her husband two dollars and sixty-two cents. Ho would have been astonished to hear it, but she thought it best not to say anything about it. lie would have alleged that it was a special ease, as they did not go to the theatre every week. This was true ;■ but then something else was sure to come of equivalent cost, such as a ride or a concert. So time slipped away. The necessity ac cording to the compact, of giving his wife as much,as he spent for incidental expenses, no doubt contributed to check him somewhat, so that probably he did not spend more than two-thirdk as much in this way as hohaddono before the agreement. Still he kept up the average of the first week. Wo will now suppose the year to have glided by, John Stetson come into the sitting room with a pro-occupied air. “ What are you thinking about!” asked his wife. ■ “ About tho half-aero lot adjoining tho one Holmes bought last year.” “ Do you wish to purchase it ?” “ Yes, I should like to; but of course I can’t, nut having tho money.” “ How much do they they ask for it ?” ~~“TloTffi'6s'WaldWh'uird'r'odW6UarB~fdFKis'.—‘ This is in some accounts preferable, and they hold it at one hundred and twenty-five dol lars.” “Perhaps you could raise the money, John," said his wife, quietly. 11 By borrowing. I shouldn’t want to do that.” “ You remember our fund ?” “Pshaw! That may possibly amount to thirty or forty dollars." " Suppose we count it, as the year is up to day?”' . “ Very well.” The box was opened, and husband and wife commenced counting; “Bless my soul 1” said John Stetson, “I had no idea there was so much.” What was his astonishment when the to tal proved to be .one hundred and twenty-nine dollars and forty cents 1 - “ You see you can buy the lot.” “But haven’t j-ou swelled the amount from your own allowance?”' he asked, -somewhat bewildered.. - “Not by a cent; and don’t you see, John, that if you had refrained from even half of tho little expenses we spoke of; wo. might have had in the neighborhood-of two hundred .dollars?” ■ John Stetson did see it, and ho determined that.tho lesson should' be a serviceable one.— The half-acre lot was bought, and now, at the. end of five years, it was worth.double what he paid for it. lie has also laid aside two hun dred dollars a year during this period, and all by SMALL SAVINGS. ' • . ■~—TirE~Boci-ATr--Hy;rip«;i.. An untidy-vraman-?- Little soap and'mqeli perfume. Plenty of jewelry and a lack of strings and buttons.— Silks,and laces, and tattered, underclothes.— Diamond rings and soiled collar. Feathers and flowers, aiid battered cap frill. Silk stockings and shabby boots. Who lias not seen her?. If you are a person of courage, enter her dressing-room. 1 Make your way over the carpet, through mismated slippers, tippets, belt ribbons, hair-pins, pictorials, niagazines, fashion prints, find unpaid bills, and look vainly round for a chair that is suf ficiently free froth dust to sit down upon.— Look at the dingy muslin window curtains, the questionable bed quilt and pillow cases, tie ” unfreshhess” of everything, your.eye falls upon; Open the closet dour, and see the p les of dresses all wanting “ the stitch in time,” heaped pell-mell upon their pegs ; see the bandboxes without covers, and all _ the horrible paraphernalia of a lazy, inefficient, vacant, idealess female monstrosity, tvho will, of course be chosen out of a bevy of good, practical com mnh sense, girls, by Some man who prides himself on “bis knowledge of woman," as his “ helpmate for life!” We use the word “ monstrosity ” advisedly ; for even in the cell .of a prison .we have seen wretched female's trying, with woman's beau tiful instruct, to brighten and-beautify the hare walls with some rude colored print.— Thank heaven, the untidy woman is the ex ception, not the rule., Would wo could say the same of the untidy man.. Family Troubles. —-Was there over a fam’r ly without its troubles ? Adam and Eve had their troubles in Eden; and all families have had their troubles. Every family has a nkbl.pt ton behind the door ; every person has a tlntro in his side. It is said that misery loves coiu yiany, so take courage, hapless man, wearied woman. You arc in the majority. " Man is. hfiru to trouble as the sparks, fly upward.”,— ;Amvofosa.Taimly would yoors’be ifit kceivui. trouble. Trouble is our great. . teacher. Ii .nerves us with strength ; it gives us courage ; it tempers our metal;.it developes ourself control; it quickens our inventive Troubles are tons what,the winds are .to the oak, what labor is to thg muscle, what study is to the mind. Life .is. a school and trouble 's one i(f the great lessons. Troubles are not to be coveted, but when they come, we must get over them the best way we- can, or bear them wi h the best fortitude wo can arouse;— Take courage, therefore, troubled one. Not i> vain are your trials. They riiake you brave, strong, a.nd, it is to be hoped, better. — lie not cast down, tdteer up; cast aside your weeds and woes. Look them in ,the face ;do your duty ; take every trouble by the,, horns, overcome it with the courage of a true soldier, in life’s great campaign, and stoutly contend for the victory, of will and wisdom. The History of Hail Columbia.— ln the summer of 1708, a young man connected with the theatre at Philadelphia, as a singer was about to receive a benefit on a certain Monday evening. On Saturday afternoon, previous, he called bn Joseph Hopkins, a rising young lawyer, 28 years of ago, with whom he had gone to school when both were boys. The actor said lie had but twenty boxes taken, and his “ benefit”would be a loss unless he could get a patriotic song written to the “ Presi dent’s March,” then a popular air. The poets of the theatrical corps had tried their hands, but were satisfied that no words could bo made to suit the air. Hopkins promised to make the attempt. ■ At that time there was a great discussion in the country as to the policy of America join ing either France or England in the war then waged between those two nations, and party spirit ran very high. Hopkins endeavored to write a song that should ho independent of and above the interests, passions and policy of both belligerents, and look and feel exclu sively for American rights and honor. Ho wrote “ Hail Oolumiiia.” It was announced on Monday morning, and the theatre was crowded to excess, and so continued during the season, tho song being encored and re peated many times each night, the audience joining in tho chorus. It was also suiig at nights in tho streets, by large assemblies, in cluding members of Congress, and has now become a National Song. A 'Wife’s Prayer. —Wo do not assume -that wo recognize that which is truly beauti ful in all that makes humanity approach to tho Divine; but if there is anything that comes nearer to the implorations of Ruth to Naomi than the subjoined, wo have not seen it: “ Lord I bless and preserve that dear per son -whom thou hast chosen to bo my husband ; lot his life be long and blessed, comfortable and holy ; and let mo also become a great comfort and blessing unto him, a sharer iu all his sorrows, a meet helper for him in all tho accidents and changes in tho world; make mo amiable forever in his eyes, and forever dear to him. Unite his heart to me in the dearest love and holiness, and mine to him in all sweetness, charity, and compliance. Keep mo from all ungentleness, all discon tentedness, and unreasonableness of passion and humor;'and make mo humble and obe dient, useful and observant, that we may de light in each other according to Thy blessed word, and both of us may rejoice in I hoe having our portion iu tho love aud service of God forever.” A broker not long since when escorting a fair damsel home, asked her what kind of money she liked best. Of course tho blushing suggested matriranny;=r “What rate of interest does it bring ?”inquired tho nian of current and Wildcat documents. If properly invested,” lisped tho fair charmer “lf properly invested, it will double the original stock every two years.” [C7” Mrs. Partington says that nothing des pises her so much as to see people, who pro fess to expect salvation, go to church without their purses when a recollection is to be taken; “ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUf, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY. OCTOBER. 31,1861. We had almost believed that such singular ly romantic and highly wrought stories as weekly appear in the Ledrjer wore founded more upon fancy than fact,Jfct alter reading the extraordinary account of the doings of “Richard Guiness Hill, nephew of the cele brated banker and brewer of.Xh üblin stout,” as clironicled in late English papers, wo have concluded to entertain a'highor opinion in the future of those tales of “haunted lives.” . ■ ' , The particulars of the affair, as laid before the magistrates at Rugby, present one of the most remarkable cases of frali'l, duplicity and cruelty which probably ever occurred in Eng land. It appears that Hill, who is about 32, years of age, and a man of gahtlemauly bear ing, a few years ago married^grand-duugh ter of Sir, Francis Burdott; tand protege of Miss Burdett Counts. The, interval between the time of marriage and tftlfbeginning of 1859 was passed by the happy pair in travel ing and without any apparerttidisturbanoo of their domestic fecility. In tlie early part of the above mentioned year, however, appeared :U"iiTtie,"StiPtn'gcr,Jfor7'ivinjsvf^tOve';iwClniro - became desirous to provqVlin a manner not at all, usual except in theSrliforemention od harrowing tales. A fcWdaya'after the birtluof tlie child Hill .adopted .tf cdrttae to de stroy its identity, with the presumed object of possessing, himself of 'oortainpftlperty devised by a,will made by Mrs. llill,.£]|5 r ingiho whole of her property, which,was considerable, ab solutely to her husband; in the event.of no issue surviving her decease. V Ho first registered his child, under a false name and description, aud thpn inluced his wife to consent to its being put out to nurse •in London, to which, place he proceeded; and on his return staled that, he-ljad procured a suitable person to take char&e.ot it. The mother believing her husband’s representa tions, entrusted her'child to the care of, a girl fourteen * years ‘ of" age, the daughtor of-the woman who .was in attendance'upon her, who conveyed it by special train to.the city, where she was met by Hill, who drove her to some portion of London, with which, as. a country girl, she was unacquainted, deposited a box containing the child’s clothing, and then re turned to the railway station When they were met by two women to whom the . child was ■given. Upon the return.of the girl.to Rugby -she intimated to'Mrs,.Hill that tlie child had been put into the hands of improper persons. Hill, however combatted this-' assumption by assuring his wife that the girl,Was mistaken. From lime to time Mrs. Hill expressed the greatest anxiety regarding the; welfare of her child, but her hiisbqnd always asseverated that it was in proper .hands,'and was pro gressing most satisfactorily. This state, of, things continued for,about tiyo. years, a"nd at length Mrs. Hill tojd her hdslmndthat she insisted upon seeing her child. Ho refused to comply with the request; asorious alterca tion took place, and he ultimately ’ subjected her to grosa ill usage. .-Uponifthis’.a ■ sepava? u u n\tpo k ■ly*-. lie had' ma'do ovcrt;n T os ; 'co'ius wile to live with her again; She iridignanlly'fepollcd his offers for a time, but at length promised to consider them favorably, provided, he satisfied her -as to what ho had done with'her infant.- Ho informed her in return that it was dead ; and she then demanded the register of its death, and. pressed- him upon this, point. Being thus placed in a difficulty he altered his- story, stating that the Purse in.whoso, care ho had.placed the child hud left England lor Australia, he'providing the passage mo "C.V: . ' \ Mrs. Hill, still doubting the truth of his statement, placed the matter in.the hands of the solicitor,-who'at once employed a detec tive officer to clear away fhb mystery which surrounded the case. ; The officer ascertained that 1 a child had made its appearance in.a house at St. Giles, about the time of the disappearance of the child in question, and after much trouble succeeded in tracing it to a tenement in a fil thy alley in Dory Lane. Alter soarching.va rious 'rooms, Brett the detective, proceeded to a small apartment .on. the second floor. In one corner lay a man nearly naked, apparen t ly'in a dying sta.to, and squatting all over the floor were several women in the most ragged and filthy'condition. The whole place was in a dreadful state; the stench from the film being almost overpowering.’ On the floor, in this horrible den, Brett discovered the heir to £lO,OOO a year, almost in a state of nudity, and. covered with vCrinii) and filth. No shoes were on his feet, and only one dirty rag en veloped the entire body. The toes wore dreadfully Scarred with the impressions of wounds, no doubt’ inflicted-by walking on stones, while head and body generally showed unmistakable marks of negligence and ill us age. The house from bottom to top appeared to bo occupied 1 by prostitutes and beggars, and the officer only escaped with the child in safety by literally “paying" his way through the swarm of people who blocked up every moans of egress. Sirs. Andrews, in. whoso charge was the child, being arrested, the detective ascertain ed that pn ode wet Saturday site was stand ing in Windmill street, Ilaymarket, apparent ly selling songs and staylaces, 1 but in reality bogging, with her two children, one in amis' and the other in the gutter by her side, when Hill, passing her, in a furtive manner slipped a shilling into her hand. Having passed and ropassed several times, ho beckoned her "to follow him to a dark part of the street. She did so, and thou asked if she Would take a child to nurse, tolling her that she need not treat it as her own, or that she might, li able, dispose of it by placing it in sumo work house or asylum. She promised to procure the ad vice of a friend, and made tin appointment lor the following night in the same place. Hill kept the appointment, and at that meeting he agreed to give her £lO a year fur taking care of the child, and told her to meet him at the same spot on the following Wednesday night, when ho would take her to a place where she should receive tho child. The latter appointment was also kept, but Mrs. Andrews was accompanied on this occa sion by a woman named Mrs. Scott, alias Mary Ann Idle, who is at present undergo ing twelve month’s imprisonment in Tolhill Fields Prison fur robbing a gentleman in the street. Sho added that all three wont in a cab'to the North-western railway station, in in Euston Square, on tho Wednesday night, where they received tho child, as stated by tho girl. Sho related tho conversation she had with tho girl as to how the child had boon treated at Rugby; sho stated that her friend Scott, alias Idle, wont with the prison .erutum„boer»shop_uearabo,statiou,_amLtltsr.>h received £l5 from him for them to take the child away. Sho also stated that whoa ‘she received the ohihl it was wrapped in a shawl,, which she afterwards pledged. • Brett redeemed the shawl,’ w‘ ioh was identified by Mrs. Hill. Tho officer also obtained a box, which Mis. Hill also. identified as being the one filled with a baby linen, sent by her with the child , and it was worthy of mention that the pnson- ROMANCE IN BEJIiUIFI!. or had, with the object of still furlher destroy ing identity, out out all tho marks which had been ■ inserted upon tho infant’s o othing. Mrs. Andrews further stated that when the prisoner gave her. the child ho told her that tlie mother was dead, and that ho was a clerk going to travel on the continent; but ho gave her neither name or address. She did not believe “all was right,” and ultimately had tho child registered in her maiden name, which was Fdrobrothcr. Brett tested the truth of that statement, and found an entry in the took of the registrar of St. Giles,’ to the affect that on tho 26th of February, 1859, a child five weeks old bad boon registered in the name of Albert Farobrothor—the name given to tbo prisoner by the woman when she received the child. To fmther prove the identity of the child, Brett went to every house where Mrs. An drews had lived in St. Giles,’ from the time the child left Rugby to the hour of its recov ery, and ho found her statement true in every particular. He ascertained that on one occa sion,when Mrs. Andrews was sent to prison for bogging, the child,' with her own, wa> placed.in St. Giles’ Workhouse, where it re nnuocu" u oil I rbc I 1 lio “ : ii if G.-i-y W.. C’i she used it os before for the purpose of excit ing the commissoration of the public in her begging expeditions. Scott, alias Idle, was seen in prison, and corroborated all the fee turos of the caseas detailed, by Andrews, ali as Farebrothor. Upon its recovery, the child was restored to its mother. But, unfor tunately, owing to the neglect from. starvn-, tion and cold, it was ‘Still under the careful attention of medical men, and its ultimate recovoiy.' was by no means certain. Upon the above facts being established Hill win,- arrested and heldto hail for a further exam; nation.— New York Commercial., . A Miranilnffs E,se«|Hi’’fnnn Slnrviition The Memphis-Argus gives the following account of a miraculous escape from starvation,' of a gentleman residing in Lauderdale county, Tennessee, near Halo’s Point;. . Last week he was out hunting in a largo bottom in his neighborhood, aud he übscrvi-d a wild goose fly out of a large cypress stump, which was some twenty feet high. His knowledge of the habits of thebe geese led hint to believe that the gi o o' hud a nest in the stump; ■On the outside of the stump wore a number of vinos, which he pulled up to poop in and get'possession of the eggs; After' he had succeeded in gaining the top of the stump, ho discovered a large number of eggs some six or eight feet down inside. The nest, he supposed,‘was on a firm foundation, and he accordingly let himself down inside; hut, when ho struck the substance on . which! tin. nest was built, ho discovered that it had no foundation, and soon found himself sinking to the bottom of .the tree. ' , ■Tho insidfcof the -tree was rotten and would riot bear his weight... Now ho was,in a dilem ma, five miles from any habitation, inside ol -a.Rtump twenty feet high, with ho prospect ol ftriy-aseistanco, to V.ub>isv \m bui. '. The goose oggs.j-'he'smsahVcu'and yelled until he was nearly exhausted, no one coming with in hearing distance. On the third day after Ilia “incarceration” two gentlemen were out hunting and : came within, hearing distance. Th6y wore-much frightened’at hearing a man groaning inside of the’.stump,' and for some time they could not .reconcile themselves to what it meant, hut.having learned that the gentleman had boon in lasing from homo several days, • they .wore soon satisfied that it was no “ghost” inside the tree. They procure I axes, and soon the prisoner was liberated. He swears ho will never attempt to rob a goose nest situated as that.one was again. , The lloostEii Ladies . Moving. —A corros”. pendent sends a report of the proceedings of a meeting of young ladies, hold at L-.igansport, Indiaria, on the 3()th ult., by whom it was IfemU'L'd, That we doom it to be tiic. duty of evory-young unmarried man to enlist and light for tlic’ honor of his country, his (lag, and his own reputation. 2nd. That the,young men, in this time of our country’s peril, have bnt one good cxi-ose for not being a sollicr and that is cOw.ianici-;. 3d. That tho y.mng man who now fails to respond to theeall of the country, is not wor thy tho kind regards or the smiles of the young ladles of our native Hoosier State, and i hat none but ladies of doubtful ape will smile on such men. 4th. That wo will have nothing to do wit young .men., who refuse to go to tho war, an that'‘Home Guards” mast keep their do lance. 'sth. That the young man who has not plan enough, to fight for Ijds country,, has not go the manliness to make a good husband. oth. That \yo will marry no man who ha not been a soldier. 7th. That wc will not marry until after the war is over; and then “Home Guards!” No, sever I A Patriotic Nap. —Day before yesterday as the story goes, a devoted member of tin Church, nnda most devout. Union man, attended divine worship, .'according to his in variable custom ’; but the weather being warm and oppressive, the worthy citizen fell asleep in his pew during tho early part ol tho service.' Ho slumbered pleasantly, and just before the service began, tho choir and congregation sang a patriotic hymn,'that filled tho sleeper’s mind, with a love of country that could not bo resisted. Tho text was, ■' And what think of ye Christ?” repeated emphatically several times by tho minister. . This appeal to tho slumboror was too di rect and bis thoughts becoming confused in his half wakeful, half dreaming state, ho for got where ho was, and tho exact nature of of tho question, and responded so loudly and distinctly that ho could bo heard through half of tho church : “ Think? I think and 1 know he’s all right he’s for tho Union all tho time?” Tho effect of this unexpected and altogeth er secular .utterance, upon tho pious brothers and sisters may bo bettor fancied than relat ed. How. it WAS DONE.— It Inis boon heretofore stilted Unit when our troops occupied I’alli* Church, a quantity ofpoisoned meat was found. It appears that they found a hog, just slaugh tered, nicely dressed, and hidden away just onoui'h to bo sure to have it .discovered, _l-x -porionce bad taught our men to bo cautious about eating rebel food, and before venturing to cat the . swine before them, they called a Kurn-eon, who examined the carcass and pro nounced it to ho poisoned.. A further exam ination provocrniaTthe lib/; ITatnst?eirpri!gnTTOd with strychnine to such a degree that a mouth ful of tho flesh would have boon sufficient to kill a man ; and when this fact became patent, the soldiers burned the house. 877” It is es boated that 20,001) commission ed officers arq required to command the Fed eral Army nUw in the field. For Now York’s quota alone, 5,000 will hardjy suffice. k Strange. Story. , A correspondent of tbo Backport, N. Y’. Union, narrates that Chummy Cue, ol Can andaigua, died 20 years ago, leaving a wid ow, sun and daughter, with'a 'competence. The widow devoted herself to her children. Tho daughter grow upwind-married.-. The sun, upon attaining his majority, engaged in a man ufacturing husine.-.--, hoi in IS-iU lie left,his business and went f- Caldui nia.-'. S-u'm' after arriving his favt-oy was destr.-yed- by lire, ami lie found himself pt.oiiloss-in,the sirco’tsof San Frame-a-.-, lb- -m-l(|vn*v'd'saiihcar-jJ,;aiid fol. twelve years his fate was unknown.' Aicti.ii,iiic, ...oil 1 , ier- j wa- I.tuh- uis ilisuo-' pearaiicc, a childless' node; ■ (Belali. Coe, ot Buffalo,) died, itml by will leu biui ami 1 hi.-, sister ample property lor lile, with, reversion Co their children,.but with a provision Unit in rase of their death,' without issue, the rover’, siou should go t> two educational and oluiri. table institutions. • , ' Under the will, the sister hus enjoyed her shore of the rents and profits, Uiesliaroof the lost one meantime, being under tlio direction, of the court, deposited in a slivings hank, until after some seven years haying .two reversionary rnstTtutnhis Ihsiuilieu. pro ceedings to secure his' share of the property. I'lio court upon a lull Hearing, decided t‘ at after this lapse of time,' without his being dis covered, he must be judicially dead; apd flint, one oftlip claimants should-enter upon the en joyment of itspurtinji o) 1 he rents and profit-. As to' the other its charter not permitting' it to take real estate,'.it Was thrown out alto gether, and that sharenot- being legally emi veydd by the will .reverted to the boirs at law unconditionally, who are those, same children. . During all this time the sister’s htisbaml. with a.zeal and. portnnieiiy Worthy of all com mendation, had; been umemitting in Jlis en deavors tn liml .idle lost one. After ell oho hud been compelled to believe him long dead, he has continued to spend, time:and money in. his discovery.' lie. (ms coninmnieatcd - wish every -American . Consul of the Island of tin 1 Pacino and Australia. lie has sent circulars, ill'ering iv largo reward, to California and, Oregon. ' lie inis - advbrt.ised..with a reward in the papers <>f the shipping uiid'wbaling ports ; has received.many eominnnieatimis drum'sea captains and others professing, to give inlmv mation, which'has always proved erroneous, untilat last every-eudea'Vof having proved fu tile,. and even a, mother’s hope discouraged, whose locks have hedonic white -in'the'long,, sleepless agony of waiting for Uio.retum (ifaii only and beloved son, within,' the last month,, suddenly, and without tlio least .previous no tice, the truant drives up to the mother’s door. Alive and well, with face bn mod and.'bronzed to parchment,, by.exposure to sun and' wind,, he has come hack at last to that mother and that sister, who havc.su long mourned- him as dead and lost to them forever. • Ami there was joy in that house. And where upon this earth lias tire truant been' hidden, that a mnt.ib'r's.rtnd a sis'er* ■; love could no, find'h n. 7 ..Way* in tiro lo 1 part of the globe-Una has nut' been searched lor him. ' ■■ ' ” f-' ■ lr South. Africa, far up front the Cape, for' many years, and iir China si Viral times, lie was employed in the Caflyewaf. , He lias hun ted elephants and zebras. He has dwelt with ami driven, cattle with tlio natives. He has met with losses hy wreak and lire. He has suffered fevers and Hie incidents of a wander ing life, until at last, in-middle,ago, theyear ning to once more see his native land; and embrace his aged, mother and his sister, became too strong to bo resisted. He sailed for Liverpool, and tiioneo, to New York, and there fur the first time herd tidings of his for tune, and that of all liis letters-written homo not one had boon received. Saving For (lid Age, Xo one denies that it is wne to make a pro vision for old ago, but wis mit ii"t all agreed as to the kind oi' provision ll is best to lay in. Certainly, we shall want a little m mot’, for a destitute old man is indeed a Sorry slight, and surest to every one the suspicion that his Hie lias been foolishly. if not wickedly spent. Yi-s, save money, by all means. But an old man needs nisi that particular kind ofs nmgth which youi g men are apt lo Many a joulish young fellow wi:l throw away on a holiday.a certain amount of njerveus energy, which h{i will nu\er Icol tie want'of until ho is seventv, and then, howanuch ho will want it! Jt U curious, but true, that a bottle ofeham pngn at twenty may ioLunsify the rheiunsiism ■if three score. It is a fact, that, over-tasking the eyes at fourteen may necessitate the ud of spectacles at*forty, instead of eighty. We alvise . ur young majors to saving of health lor tlt.eii o/d age, ibr the maxim hold* good wi.li regard to licalt h as to money-—waste not, want not.’ It is the greatest mistake to sup pose that any violation of the laws of health can escape its penalty. Name forgives a • sin, n » error.' She lot’s off the offender for lif y years, sometimes : but she catches him at last, at d inilicls the .pun ishment just when, just wh ’re, Just how he feels it most, ..Save up for old age, bu: save more than money: save health, save honor, save knowledge, save the recollection ofg>od deeds and innocent pleasures, save pmo thoughts, save friends, save love. ' Siivo rich' stores of that kind'of wealth which tiino can ,nut diminish nor death take awav. Origin of Quarrels. The sweetest; the most clinging afT-'ction, is t*rion shaken by the slightest breath ol an kindness, as the delicate ring-' ami to idrillsoi the vino arc agitated by Hie faintest air that blows in summer. An unkind word ln»m one beloved often draws blood from many a heart -which would defy the battle ax of hatred, m llie keenest edge of vindictive) satire. Any. the shade, the gloom of the face /nmiliar and dear, awakens grief and pain. 1 hose arc the little thorns which, though men of ft rougher form may make (heir way through them with out fooling much, extremely incommode per sons of a more relincd turn in their journey through life, and make, the traveling irksome and unpleasant. Industry. Employ thyself in something good. Do good to thy friend, that he may be more tby friend; thine enemy, ihat lie may hcounothy friend. To revoreireo thy lather is gi od.- Take care,of thy body. ’Tis bettor to love to hear than to love to speak. It is better to know many things than to be ignorant of a I, Bo a friend to virtue, a stranger to v.cc. Gov ern tby tongue. Learn to bear mlsforuiuo. ET" A 44 good ouo M is told ol a Quaker vol unteer, who was in u Virginia ski/misb.— Coming in pretty close (pmriers with a rebel he remarked—“ Friend, it's unfortunate, bet thco stands just where I am going to shoot/ 1 and blazing away down came Seecab. HJggHtlonosty is the best of policy. V THIS NEEDLE WOW. Somo .'people seem to think Ihattheypay too imioli for even thing, mid that it is a posts ti\o duty to employ those who will work the cheapest; they are never satisfied with any thing that is not a bargain, and although the money saved is.very often of but little impof rnnee'to them, they rejoice in these little acta ■f parsimony a i ooiumenduhlo domestic eoon any, disregarding the privations ot those whom they compel to labor for reduced' wages; : Mrs. Willoughby was a person of this do seription.' She lived sumptuously ;. her daugh ters dressed elegantly;' we will .not pall, them 'ostravagant, because people,who.have plenty oV ihoney are not obliged to.'givcan account of their expenses to their neighbors. They were, : however, discussing the very subject them-, selves, when a servant entered and presented a seamstress’s bilh; The nieelydbhled paper, attracted the ; atteiit'on of tire family, and ' glancing at : it a moment, Mrs. Willoughby excbvmed: ' ■ ■ : “ Dear me, how high 1” They then proceeded'lo examine the odn ;ents of the bundle .which accompanied the - “The work is done beautifully,” said Hon* rietla; ‘•'how-doUcutoly.it is hemmed it is done so much belter than I can make it look, 1 " time I .will never attempt anything of the sort again • '• But you forgot," said Mrs. ‘Willoughby,. Unit itcosts a large sum 10 pay for. all the sowing of-a large-lamily, oven it it wore dono at tbo cheapest rate.” . ■ : ' “I wonder,” Said S phiav a.tall graceful girl of sixteen, to tbo little .waiting seamstress in the entry; “I .'wot,dor what 3011 .would charge to,make papa ten shirts? ■' I have en gaged .'to have .them done by , the .first of May, andil'is' adong job, and so vexatious; 1 wish 1 could transfer them to you to finish " .. . Tito child was sent home- td inquire of her. mother ,what she would charge tin make-ten linen shirts, with henisfityh - fronts and with nicely stitched wristbands, Ii was not long, befoto she returned; and in her artless way replied , * -- Mother said she would charge , twb-andt sixpence; hut if the young ladies would not; give that, she would say two shillings a piece!, hither than, lose the job;”' • Amused with the simplicity of the poor child, Sophia pretended that two shillings was all that she expected td give; sho had hcVjfeiJ to get them .done for eighteen pence. • Titus, . (hat-which ought tit liuve excited sympathy, Was’immediately'seized upon as the means of a bargain ; and iis; like most bargaindiuntera, she,did not scruple.' at 'equivocation, the. little child wtis told that Mrs. Simpson- got- work, dono’ much , cheaper; forgetting, to • mention that Mrs. Simpson’s shirts .were cotton,.afid that very common work was .put in them,: —.- After' some hesitation the.bundle wits brought down and dispatched to,the seamstress, Sophia, saying, as the pate chUd'ot' the needlewoman , .Ud't the room : " Jvuw uiypuor head ond-eyesf will be .relieved.” ' ' ' ; - ' Ami-.through the busy, noisy street thd child on'tu'a hunvvle.courlin theaoutfr v\‘ houdiia,where in one 'room hqr wid* owed mother and two ypting children grap-, pled-with the hard-late of poverty. They had’ seen hotter days,” and in their’ poor dwell-’ ing there wore still some trilling articles told of hotter lurtuny in. the days guild by., “.Do you think, motheri M 'sai(r little Ellen as she brought in the work, “ tin" young lady really ihuwjht she ought to get the shirts made for eighteen pence apiece. ?. Shy -tfiid' fdio (lid;-but, mother, bio did not. know lidvr hard it is to keep on, sewing evoy\ 'ai.’d. all diiy long, and somot lues thr u- i,. 1 n night, or else she never would have s.V s The inothcM* brushed away a tear ‘tn.v.ng': “ NeliiM, she never new djor a : Uvin.‘/.' > . “And,' mother, she loßlher,. sister site was no glad to get rid of the tiring work, and aho said liur father would never know but every stitch waa dune by her, and she should clear eighteen pence apiece by them. What- cuuld she mean The widowed mother bad,heard before of such deception, hiit she refrained from telling her child 1 1 .at the young lady was to receive thrCe-and-sixpenso for each shirt. She-101l that her busnesswaa to complete the .work, soon -as possible, and at once commenced cut ting out and gbtl'ug the plainer parts ready lop Ellon to hem. But if was' weary work —stitch, glitch, stitch ; bur eyes were weak from continual use, nod when the long jo.b was patiently accomplished, who could..), the aches and pains by which it was attended and how wearily the aching head lay'dpwiT ‘Long he.ore the promised lime Elion car red i oniG' the slurbs. Miss Sophia severely scrutinized them, examining the bosoms, looking at t ho gathers, next at the stitching, finally tossing them in aheap, saying: “ 101 l your mother they are worth no mors than eighteen pence each,-and I will pay you that if she will receipt the bill.” Tie child returned with a heavy heart to tell the s.ul nows. The seamstress wopr, and her tears fell faster as she looked’at a small picture of her husband which hung upon the wall. *• Xl he were alive” she said, " 1 should have some protector from wrong usage. Fif teen shillings for ten shirts I Hero, Ellon dear, bring me buck just what Miss Willoughby pleases to give ; but say mamma has worked very hard, early and Inns upon them.” Ellen did so, ami S'phia paid her the amount, adding, "This is a g.eat deal, of money for poor people to spend—it will buy you a number of calico drosses.” • ** But 'mother's runt is due.” said the child* *• Pshaw 1 rent is nothing; make your landlord trust you/” And so saying she loft the ro mi. The .seamstress never closed her eyes that [ Toink you no unseen eye kept watch? I’aoik you the oppressed will never bo viu.di ,-atod—that the poor and need havo no help er '! There is a husband for the widow, and a father for the lutlmrless.. Some days had passed, but the 14 bargain" had not been forgotten ; and when one mpru ing .Miss Charlotte Wio dram. called in to goa >ip about fashionable friends, and the scenes l of gaycty and pleasure which constituted, ihoir “world,” the shirts were exhibited by Sophia, and .the story .of their cheapness .told, “ And where did you got this beautiful‘fan.?’*!, asked Charlotte; “it is really elegant I” and she idled from the table a fan of very beauti ful workmanship. “I saved it,” replied Sophia, 41 from mon ey father gave mo to make those shirts. I put them out at half price; only think of I that; was it not a bargain? and ho never knows it to this day.” $ Poor girl I your fan should bo used as a *Bereon-to-lddtr-t4ie-lnrt‘rl Pi asperity never long follows in the. footstep* of oppression. . A Mean Man.— The following is Aunt Betsey's description of her iml;-mau; 44 lie is the meanest man in the world/* she exclaimed, 44 He skims his milk on the top, and then turns it over and skims the bottom,” NO. 20.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers