American i 380 hmtwr. VOL. 48. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER, PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY JOHN B. BRATTON. TERMS Subscription. —One Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid In advance; Two D A llars if paid within tho yoarj c*nd Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid witbm tho year. These terms will bo rigidly adhered to in, every instance. No subscription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at.the option of tne Editor. An veutisbsibhts—Accompanied by tbe cash, and not exceeding one square, will bo inserted three times for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each additional insertion. Those of a greater length u proportion. Job-Printing —Such as Hand-bills, Posting-bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &o. Ac., executed with accuracy and at tho shortest notice. |MmL THE HmTrBSIDENT’S ball, BY ELEANOR C. DONNELLY. « The lights in tho President's mansion, - Tho gas-lights obcory and rod, I see them glowing and glancing As I toes on my wearisome bod; . I sec them hooding tho windows, .And, star-like, gemming tho hall. Where the tide of fashion flows inward To tho Lady-Prositlont’a Bpßl\ ,“ My temples are throbbing with flavor, . My limbs are palzjccl with pain,. And tho crash of that festal mus|o Burns into my aching brain Till I'rave with dolir|oqs fancies.; And coffin, and bier,'and ball, Mix up with the flowers and laces . Of my Lady-Pfpsjdout's BaUI “What inatter that I, poor private, • . Lie hpro on my narrow bod, ■ With the fever griping my vitals, • And dozing my hapless head ? What matters that nurses are callous, And rations meagre and small, ' So long as thO 6eait monde revel At the Lady-President's Ball 1 4t Who pities my poor old . Who oomforts my sweet young wife-** Alone in tho distant city, . With sorrow sapping theip life? J bare no money to send them,. ; They cannot come at my call; No money ! yet hundreds are wasting . At my Lady-Prosi4ci;t's Ball) , M Hundreds —ah! hundreds of thousands— In satins, jewels, arid wine, prenoh dishes for dainty stomachs,' ■ , (While the,black broth sickens inino !)- And jellies, and fruits, and cold ices, . And fountains that flash as they fall; .0 God! for a cup of .cold water Prom tho Lady -President's Ball I "Nurse! bring momy uniform ragged— • ..Ha! why did you blow out tho light? Help me up —though I’m aching and giddy, I must go to my dear ciioa to-night!. "Wife! mother! grow-D •I'liTeoinlngi I’U comfort ye all! ” And the private sank dead while they resoled At my Lady-President's .Ball! . MMlmms. CHASE OF THE BLOODHOUND (from BEATEN PATHS ; AND THOSE WHO THOD THEM. RV THOMAS COLLET ORATTAN.) “ Kecravani” roared the Squire. “ Here, ■ your honor,” answered the huntsman. “ Sha yiua!” “It’s hero I am, sir,” said the whip* perin. “ Are the digs all ready ?” “They •re all in the couples, your hqner." “And ‘ the gentlemen’s, horses ?” The saddles is on them, sir.” “ Then lot them be tight girth ed, for I’m going to give them a real run. How gentlemen,” continued our host, as ho was wheeled out into the hall and towards the open door, “ I am sorry to say I am go ing to put you off with a drag this morning, J thought to have had a deer for you ; hut old Crogan is so angry with mo for cheating him out of the big black buck the other day, that he has not let a thing out of bounds since then," “ What is the Jrag ?” asked Hsamo one.” “You shall see,” replied the Squire, “ Bring opt the.drag » Here ho is, your honor," oxclaimeda voice; and a figure hounded into the hall from a side door, in the fashion of “ the sprite” in a modern pantomime. But no sprite, ever so dcmon-lito, could be more hideously formed to cast terror into the souls of the ohijd-audi enoe at holiday time, than was the apparition which so suddenly burst upon the full-grown beholders on this memorable morning, it was a living man, in tight dross;.with a handker chief tied round his waist arid a close cloth cap on his head, but smeared with blood from crown to sole, even his face ; and, as he laughed and showed his white teeth and twinkling eyes through the gory streaks, nothing could be more appalling. Every one of the strangers startled and shrank back. “ Don’t be afeared, gentlemen, it isn’t a murther I committed. It’s only myself that’s in it. Godroon, at your sarvioe, my Lord, and long life to you ; just dressed out to show sport to your honors. Don’t you know me, Sir Jeffery ?" - “ This is a sorry sight!” said Jack Mande ville, with a stage start.’ “ Out, damned spot 1” extending his hands towards God roon, as if he would push him back to the door ho emerged frorii. This hit of theatrical fun brought the rest of us somewhat to our selves, and the scone, revolting ns it was nt first, began every minute to have something exciting in it, as the Squire explained that it was a run with the blood-huuds he was about to treat us to, and that Godroon was the quar ry they were to follow. “ But, good God, is there no danger of their catching him 1” asked some one. “ Oh, not the least, ho is used to it,” said the Squire. “So are the cels,” remarked another, “ Oh, never fear, there is neither .fire nor frying-pan in quesr tion. Are you quite ready, Godroon ; “ In tirely so, sir," replied “ the drag," with an alacrity that was reassuring. .“Then take your polo and take care yourself, and God Speed you 1" exclaimed the Squire, in accents aorious.ifnot actually solemn. And os Godroon flourished his leaping-pole and out a few oap prs out in the court before the house, his mos sier added," Mind your steps, run steadily, and look before you leap—do shouting nor scream ing at the dogs—hold your breath well in— mind what I soy to you, Godroon." “ I will, your honor. _ what law are you giving me ?” “Twenty minutes." “Hurra 1" cried Qod roon. _ “ You’ll want it nil. Tubbororo bog is a mile off, and the rath is a quarter beyond that. You know you are safe among the elm trees there, Godroon." “It's not straight there I'm going, sir ; I must show your hon or and the gintlqmeri better sport than that. I’ll give a oast into the ould plantation first." r , “ Well, away with you I and once more God speed you!" said the Squire, and the blessing was echoed by every one of the'household, who all looked anxious,'though highly delighted, aa if there was something very serious in the sport” all were preparing for. Godroon leaped lightly over the fosse by the aid of his pole, and flourishing it in the style of a dram-major marching, at the head of a regi ment, he started as fearless and buoy ant as if he was Only going out for a little trot with the beagles. The servants too brought forth the boots and huntingfrooks Worn by the visitors the day before ; and (while we equipped ourselves)'by order ofthe Squire alow door in the corner of the court was opened, and the kennel displayed in which the blood-hounds were lodged. “ Out with the beauties,” cried the Squire, in a triumphant tone, as the grooms and helpers brought forward the dogs, twelve in number, all strictly coupled up, and all bound ing and leaping with a force that put to the test the whole strength and management ofthe men who held them in lash. “ There they ore—look at them—what do you think of them ?” exclaimed the Squire, his face beam ing with proud delight. And rail the party, did look at and examine them carefully, but with a shuddering feeling as they growled and bellowed in horse, deep-mouthed tones, as soon as they caught the scent of the bipod that had been here and there dripped from Godroon’s clothes, or been left on the gravel by foot-prints. As well ns I can now trace the impression made on me by these teriible ani mals, they appeared unlike any others, even of the motley collection of the Squire’s ordi nary or regular pack before described, They were, like the others, of various, colors, black red, yellow, brindled dnfl spotted, hut pretty nearly of the same size, They seemed to stand about flve-and-twen? ty inches high, and perhaps forty in length, with head, breast, {bre legs and shoulders, like a light-made mastiff | spout larger ; ears erect, like a greyhound ; pud loins, croup, haunches and tail also of greyhounds shape, only thicker combination indicating great nerve, strength and agility. As they strove to escape from the muscular men who held them, their eyes flashed, they actually roared with rage and twisted like serpents, while the men lashed them severely with heavy-thronged whips, They became quite frantic with impatience, and several of them turned to bite or tear the hands that curbed them. The Squire seemed boiling with fierce ardor. He held his watch in his hand, his eyes straining as be counted the minutes, and at last he exclaimed. “ The quarter of an hour is passed—now mount, whoever means to follow me. lead on the horses.” We all sprang into our saddles ; he was, as usual lifted into his. No one but ho spoke a single word. - ‘ ; There \yas an air of compressed excitement in every face ofound I have no doubt every frame thrilled nervously, with a feeling akin to terror, which pU strove, to conceal.. We were embarked ip a fearful adventure. But being in for it, ond prepared by the nights proceedings, we dashed on like men, rushing to a breach, or charging a battery. “Time is up,” bellowed Abe Squire .at the very top' of his now screaming voice—*“ un loose the couples there on Jthe scent. Hark, forward, away 1” No sooner said than done. Every collar was unclasped. The dogs like a herd of wild beasts; —indeed they wore but such—sprang through the wide-op en gate, with a concentrated yelk that made us shud der. The horses plunged and reared as if maddened with affright. But we were all —dogs, horses, man —put on our mettle, and were soon iii the open fields and at full speed on our headlong chase. Never, in all my experience before or since, did I witness such a tremendous burst as that. Never' saw anything like the pace, Never felt anything like the sensation. Away we went, men and beasts. The dogs ran should or to shoulder, not a foot of space dividing one from the rest. They required no guid ance or control. They were never q moment at fault. They were in full cry from first to last. The riding was teriffio, but splendid. The most torpid pulse, the most sluggish blood would have throbbed and boiled to have wit nessed, not to say shared in, such a scene. We were eleven in all ( all capitally mounted for our several weights, Every man was well horsed ; every horse well manned. The field was prime—and the game I where and what is it ? I verily believe, shocking as it is to say it, that in two minutes from the start no one thought of that, until the first check brought us a little to our senses. Within less than a mile of the house, after > having cleared some desparate leaps, we came 1 to a troiit stream, not wide, and easy - banks. A moment’s pause took place. God i roon had evidently crossed safely, but was i not to bo seen beyond. Everybody looked i .forward towards the path, _ a weed-covered • mound, with a few straggling elm trees on i the top. . The dogs seemed for an instant puzzled—and both master and men exohang-, ed words of surprise and anxiety, for it was plain that the too daring’ “ drag” had not ta ken the direct course for the shelter designat ed for him by the Squire ; but had deviated ,'to the right or left beyond the water to give additional time for “ the sport,” as he said he would. Looking round me I saw a riderless horse galloping about. I had no time to nsk for the owner, for one of the leading dogs eith er sniffing the scent across the stream, or fol lowing some instinotawfully like reason, which told that the "blood-stained feet must have passed to the other side, dashed into the wa ,ter, followed by all the others, and they were in a minute on the opposite bank again in full cry. We all had a fair start and a large majority went cleverly over. The Squire's horse seem ed to go on invisible wings, so beautifully did the rider lift him through the air. 1 turned round my head and saw two of our party splashing in the water. Who were they ? What matter ? “ Hark forward 1" and away we went into a rather thick copse on the right. “ Heavens 1” cried some one, “ should the poor fellow have stumbled and fallen into the tangled cover ?” A fright ful chance, for he would have surely been torn to pieces before any.of could us have come close up with the blood-hounds. But we struggled ■ through, the dogs invisible in the brushwood, but their music leading us on. While they doubled and seemed baffled in the intricate covert, Qodroon had gallantly worked his way through it, gaining time by many turns, like a close-pressed hare, and we all gave a shout of joy and encouragement as we marked him through an opening at an easy canter on the rising ground leading up towards the path. He out soma frolicsome capers, looked quite fresh and at ease with himself, like a man who had done his work well; and he quietly stepped on towards the path, where he paused, looked round him, and thqn de libertly Qlimed into a tree, prepared to survey and enjoy the progress of the hunt and the performances of tho’ huntsmen. “He’s all right," "‘safe and; sound," '"‘thank God!" and other exclamations of satisfaction broke from several as we got well out of the thicket and galloped on after the dog, now flying des perately close on the scent again, and running JikQ' the wind. 'I and all ttye rest had our eyes fixed while we rode on, as the blood-red figure, of Godroon straddle-legged on the branch which moved flexibly up and down at bis motion, and seemed to keep time with the chorus of the pack. Suddenly we were shocked on seeing the branch snap and break right across between the trunk of the tree and Godroon, and down he fell to the ground and rolled bodily over the other side of the path,, being instantly lost to our view. "What cared blood-hounds ? View or no view was all the same to them. They, like sailors steering by the needle, had unerring; scent of their, unseen victim on grass and bramble, weed and shrub, and onward they went always in deep, full ory. And on we pushed with whip and spur, atom- horses’ ut most speed, to gain the top of the path and cross it in good time, if possible, to save the poor fellow before his savage pursuers could consumate his now almost apparent doom. The dogs wore first on the summit; and still, yelling in fearful harmony they seemed to drop over in a compact mass to the far off side of the mound before we could gain the top. What a terrible few minutes of suspense it was, and with what dread we -strained our eyes forward when we got fairly up, except ing to sec the blood-hounds tearing the mangl ed body of what we now felt to be our victim, as well as thatofthe ferocious beasts. Great and indescribable was our joy—l am sure wo all felt alike .to mark the crimson fugitive bounding along still hundred of yards in ad vance ; but every action showed that he was now running for his life with almost super-' ..human speed. \ . To the right and loft and before him there was not a vestige of shelter to be soon, a bleak common covered with light grass, here and there a tuft of rank herbage, and largo blocks' of stone as if thrown at" random-about— j was the dreary and despairing p::ospect,. Poor Godroon seemed to feel the horror of his situation, for his head was' frequently turned back, to measure no doubt the decreasing dis tance between him and us.’ Ho was going straight in the,direction of Slievenambra—the only object rising from the wide-spread plain, and offering the only possible chance of escape, could he hold his breath arid keep up the rapid pace for a mile or mire further. The hordes scrambled with groat, difficulty, through the scattered blocks and over the many crevices which now broke the ground. There were two op three heavy falls of beasts and men. The dogs gained on us every moment, . We. di4 : our best to keep steady hands apd holdourhorscs well up; and the field,” now reduced to seven, formed a gloomy contrast in their silent anxiety to the bounding elas ticity of spirit with which men follow hounds who are hunting natural game. A couple of haros sprang,Up before tho dogs. We hoped this might have turned them aside, changing the scent. They never seemed to heed them more than a well bred setter would heed a lork, with a pack of grouso_ or a running oovOy of partridges' ■ hclore him. Our dogs* required a higher flavor. ■ Blood, blood was their only instinct. At, God ron u.\ rn ri sing the rugged base of the mountain, tho dogs closing fast on liira, and wd iii uttbr des pair of pqshing our horses up through the crags in anything like time to drive thorn off, “Ho’ll do it?. Tho witch’s tree will save him I” said'the Squire to Keerayaii, in a confident tone. “ How will the craytqre over olimb the trunk without a soreed of bark on it?” asked the huntsman, with a gloomy look. “He’ll scramble up somehow—life,is sweet, and strength and activity can do anything,” replied the Squire, as we still worked our way. But the moaning of these observations was lost on me, for I had never than soon' the lo cality I described in my opening sketch.— The next change in the scone was Godrooii’s gaining the summit, and rushing over it and out of our sight without a moment’s pause. “ This way, your honor, this way,” shouted Sharaus Bawn, beckoning with his whip to wards a patch of green sward running like a' narrow ribbon up the rooky pass, and allow ing us to gallop one by one with rather great er speed than the dogs, who followed steadily Godroon’s windings through the obstructing crags. Had ho discovered the smoother path which the whipper-in struck upon, they would have infallibly caught him up, even before they did; on such comparatively easy ground. We gained the summit, and at a couple of hundred yards distance caught a view of the lake, the blasted tree, and God roon making fruitless efforts to climb to the overhanging branches. There’was not h notch or knot, or the least projecting thing to give place for even one foot to rest: on; and he only slipped down . gain and again after every attempt to cling o the worn . and wasted trunk. We were now all, horses, men and dogs, pell-mell to gether , rushing at full speed towards him, the blood-hounds roaring with incredible fu ry, having the victim almost in their fangs, we all shifuting to him, “the water! the water! Plunge in, plunge in 1 ” “Oh God! He can’t swim a stroke,” exclaimed the Squire ; in agony.. And wo all in this supreme mo ment dashed among the dogs, Striving to ride them down or batter them to death with our hammer-handled whips. They were ac tually on him. Ha turned round and round bewildered, and giving himself up for lost. —■ It was a frightful spectacle.. My eyes closed—and when they opened again convulsively, I saw the desperate wretch with maniac bound fling himself into the lake. In an instant every one of the ravenous dogs not disabled by our blows leaped in after him —and riders and horses all were as quickly in the waves—into which the commotion lashed the liquid depth, I cannot now accu rately, for I did not then, clearly comprehend the. final close of this drama. Reason was in abeyance, every qne acted upon impulse. It all tended one way—to recover the body, be fore the hideous animals tore it limb from limb. The efforts of same, or all, I know not how it was, were successful. The dogs were beaten and baffled, and forced to loose hold of the prey they no doubt thought they had earned a right to devour. The dripping form of the disfigured “drag,” the gory stains half-washed from the clothes, was lifted up on the horse of the whipper-in, who held it nearly upright before the saddle. "We urged on our animals to a fast walk, looks of awe on every face, and not n wqcd ut tered by any one, we made our way to the narrow path by which wo had moqqted.—-• There never was a more hprror-struck process sion, the water streaming down fronq each man, and the blood curdling in every vein.— Towards the base of the mountain we were met by several of the stable and kennel men, with a light cart, carrying the leather coup lings, chains, and muzzles of the odious dogs, who now sneaked beside or after us, crest fallen, hungry and vindictive, their blood-shot eyes and an occasional dismal growl speak ing their angry discontent. A halt was com manded by the Squire. Sharaiis and one of the now comers lifted the senseless form—a harrowing sight—from the liorso in the cart. “Qh, murthor, murthor IV cried Shamus, in a tone of terror j; “itVgroiming, sir, it’s'groan ing !" The Squire pressed forward. “Five “OUR COUNTRY—MAT IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY^- CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 90, 1861 pounds for you, Sharons, if you speak truth !’’ said he, “ft’s true .enough 1” exclaimed Keo ravan, with less agitation. “He’s moving 1” “Ton pounds for yoh. Kceravan, for the nows. Stand back, boys, give him air. Yes, God be thanked, he’s still alive I” “Alive,” echoed every voice ; and every heart throbbed wildly at the. word. And- it. was indeed so. And' recovery was.lndispntable and magically quick. The wild opening of the lids—the wandering and. still .'gaze, the nervous me ntion of tho lips, the balf-oboked.utterance of the first words, the; spasmodic flinging up of the arms,, the clasped hands, the upturned eyes—what a picture for the memory to dwell' on 1 How long did this awful man-hunt with blood hounds last ? What time' was con sumed from the start Until what was so near being the—death? ' T know not. Very.brief no doubt in the run ( but well I recollect that the fearliil course appeared at the time os ' though it had b.n an ago. And now, in re tracing it here, it;rripdly and with a flying pen, it passes at once before me like a light ning flash. ' We were soon housed at Enpckdorrig, and reveling in the delight of warm baths, dry clothed,, roaring tires, qhd such a breakfast 1 Nr.inre would assert its'rights, and appetite came widly back for “its own.” Wo all felt that we had passed through a great exploit— nothing heroic in it—'but a feat perhaps with out a parallel. And it was so beautiful to 1 see poor resuscitated Oodroon, so nearly sac rificed for our mad pleasure, clean washed, well dressed—smiling languidly and kindly, —I might say forgivingly on os, though we had not in our revelry.meant-, him any harm —that I think after all the scone Was worth going through, remembering arid recording., When hunger was apijpasod, and every duty performed to the chiohLactor and tjie subor dinate attendants, by ft not ungenerous sub*, aoription, either in cash or in promises sure to be fulfilled, the Squire in his most impres sive manner addressed ns. ' “Gentlemen,” said Jf'o, with some few other phrases which I forget,, "we have escaped a greaterimo. Had that poor fellow perished, I had been assuredly aV murderer, and ali of you, by ray instigation, accessaries in the fact. I don’t know ho v the law might have dealt with us, for though there was no malice pre pense there was certainly folly aforethought, and many a viplationj'pf right is committed under the excuse of want of reflection. How ever,' it is over- -and ,\to have 'had a groat es- cape. Only one'act of and humanity remains sure you all hate .those strange infatuation mi West Indies to lead yfj tion. Don’t you hate dous chorus of “Tea 1 i j question., "They ore no use on the face of this earth,” continued the Squire. “The .money they coat nio for a more whim has been quite thrown away.” j ' ' . "The fow limes I went out. with some _ of them before this led mo in to 1 a .Croat 'xjustJ.ha.! waa:,(iot>d; sport. It was'vcvy. —.and such as it ■ V wan, it was a now pVaasme. Godroon was BO' i paotivo, ao prudent, .and.so lucky on those ocs casi.ons, that the run from hero to the path was i but a joke. I never dreampt of a breaking , branch, nor he neither. Yet you see on how • little the life.of a man depends aiid an ago of remorse 1 Gentlemen, we have all had a great escape. Now come with me to the ken nel yonder, and bo witnesses to the boStqtone. ment I can make for what is past, aqd.tlio besfsecurity I can give for the future. Are the pjuns all loaded?” “They are, your hon-. or with two bullets in every barrel,’’said'lieof van. All right I Wheel me out.”. And out he. was wheeled accordingly, and out we all went along with him ; and in five minutes a volley from the united force of the household (except Godroon, who said “ ho hadno malioo against the poor bastes”) laid the whole pack dead on the kennel floor, with the exception of one which was killed by a blow from a whip handle, and another that was; strangled by what poor Godroon de clared he thought was his own death grasp, in the late of Moonavallah. When we wore all mounted, and taking our leave of Knbok dorrig, a couple of hours later, the last Words our most strangely ..eccentric, and very re markable host, were, " God bless yo all, my good friends 1 and remember I now reckon on ye all, aq men of honor and gentlemen— without asking any pledge—not to mention to any one a hintofthis adventureby word of month or by pen. forfive years from tills day.” We all solemnly promised, and I hope every one kopt.his word. I have at any rate kept mine ; for it is only now—exactly forty years beyond the five to which my discretion was limited—that I have first narrated this in stance of the wild sports of Ireland, in what was comparatively the olden time, Bill Hanson ; or (he Worst Boy “ Bill Unnson,” as ho was called, was the worst boy in school, and, in fact, in the whole town j so his teacher said, and not a day passed but that she found something .for which to punish him. The last day of school had come, and Bill declared he never would enter the school house again, and wont home muttering throats against his teacher and everybody else. But Bill was not a had boy at heart, as my readers will soon sea. For n number of years past the 5c,,00l had been kept by a lady whose mode of teaching was rather antiquated, and who believed, with Solomon, “ that sparing the rod spoils the child and as she was not thought very highly of by either old or young, it was pro posed to make a change the following term. But it made no difference with Bill, “for,"’ said he, “ they are all alike; and no natter how hard a follow tries to mind, they will find something to ferqle him for. So he passed the vacation, as usual, cutting capers, and troubling the neighbors in general. Saturday before the summer term commenc ed, ho tfss passing by Beacon Grants, and happening to look up into a tree by the fence, he espied - a bird nest qnd climbed up to get it. The now school teacher had arrived that morning; her name was Miss Maynard, Seeing Bill through the window, she in quired, “jf bP Wfi 3 to b.e quo pf l)Qr sohol qrq ?” , - ; ‘ Yob,” replied Mrs. Grant, H and ho is the most troublesome boy in tl;o whole .vil lage ; I don't envy you being his teacher.” Miss Maynard made no reply, but went out into the garden, as if tqgathor some flowers. Bill saw her, bqt remained standing upon the fence, eyeing her with a curious look. She walked slowly down the path, and finally stopped by Bill, and said, with a pleasant smile, "What are you looking for, little bov 1” “ A birds nest,” bo said, making a motion as if to climb tlio tree, “ and I want to got the eggs and thq nest." , . , “But don't you think it is wrong to take awqy‘ the littte birds’ horgea ?■ tl*ey sing so. (justice, and propriety, jto bp fulfilled. I am i diabolical dogs t.hat.;. ide me import from the , ju. and mo into tomptr,- thcra ?" Atremen ,lll all 1” followed the A STORY FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS. In School. sweetly that I cannot bear to have them go away.” “I never thought about its being their homes before,” ho said; “ but I won’t take ’em if you don’t wont mo to.” And ho look ed pleasantly at Miss Maynard, for her kind words had touched his heart. “I don’t, lam sure,” she answered, “and now toll mo-what your name is.” ■ “ They all coll me Bill Hanson.” “ I do not like the name ‘•‘•Bill, so I will coll you. Willie-; I think it a great deal pret tier.: Have you a father:pr mother?” ' “ No, ma'am, I live with; thp Joneses down hero, and I hate, 'em. all., for they thrash me 'most every day,” and his eyes flashed Are ns he spoke. Miss Maynard took no,notice of his last re mark, but said, “ I suppose jou are going to to be one of my scholars, nr’n/t you ?” “ X said last term/’ answered he, “that I would not go to school any more, the teachci; was so ofoss to- me ; but you speak so kind to me, that I would like to come to you if you will lot m,a; nf>. ono over spoke so pleasant, to mo before.’'’' And tho ucw teacher thought she saw a tear in ins, oyo. *“< I do want you, to come,” said she, “and now good-night. I shall expect to see you bright and early Monday morning.” And turning she went in,to. tne house, thinking that Willie Ilanspp, lyas, not such, a very bad boy- after all, ’ ■ Monday icoFnjng. oatpe, and the teacher, thinking that she, would like to see the place where she was to spend the summer, started early for the school house.; but before she had reached it, she heard a quick step .behind her, and looking around she, saw Willie Han son,, and sbo hardly kpew- hiirj. To be sure ho wore the same ragged clothes, but his face, which slip saw; him before was covered with dirt, was now- washed clean, and his cheeks looked fresh and rosy as an apple; his hair was combed smoothly back, and revealed a brow which no one would have boon- ashamed to own.: And.his. eyes sparkled, and a happy smile played around his mouth, as Mbs Maynard said “ Good morning;” and the approving look which slipup' from her eyes fold him that she. had po.ticed his improved appearance. They reached the school house, aud - soon after school began, and . before noon Miss Maynard had become quite Well acquainted with her little flock, But the other scholars all w on dorod to see Willio ) for instead of being, as usual, the worst boy in school, bo hacj been this morning one of the bash And thus it went on from day to day, the teacher speaking and smiling ‘encouragement, and the scholar prov’mg by his oouduot how much ipflqonoa her kindly words had upon his heart. One Friday .night he was walk ing homo, when. Miss Maynard overtook him aqd asked. ' ‘■‘• Willie, woqld you not like to go to jbP Sabbath school next Sunday?” VI should like to go,” he said, ‘•‘• bat” —-and ho looked down at his bare feet and;' ragged liackot. Miss Mayaard noticed ft, and said, “if you will go I will take your jacket home and mend it for yoq, and tbop wo will sec what can ho done for a pair of ■shoes.” , Willie looked the thanks ho could not speak, and handed his coat to his teacher,.and turn ing went toward home. “My conscience, Miss Maynard, what have you got there ?” exclaimed good Mrs. Grant, ns the teacher entered the room with ! the Jacket in her hand. “ Willie Hanson’s jacket,” said she, “and I have come to see if you have some patches that you will let me have to mend it.” “ Vvhy, you can never mend that thing in this world,” said the Denoc.i’s wife, arid the Deacon himself- coming in at the moment, said “ he thought it more fit for the rag bag than anything else.” ! “ Well,” said Mrs. Grant, “ I wouldn’t try to mend that, but now I think of it, there is an old pair of pants and an old ooat that the Deacon has cast off, and if you will help mo, we will see if wo cannot get him up a now suit to wear to church, you say you think he will go." Miss Maynard joyously gave her consent, and was turning to go out, when the Deacon said, “ You say that boy is doing better. If I thought it would last, I would take him, for I need a boy, and the Joneses would bo glad to have him cpmo.” " Oh,” said Miss Maynard, “ I know he would he good, for he has been inv best boy all the term, and I would not part with him for the world ; do, Deacon, say you .will take him,” and she looked so pleadingly into, hie face that ho smiled and said “ he would thinkotit. The next morning Willlie came for his jacket, but Miss Maynard told him she had not got it quite done, and that he might come again for it. As he was going out of the yard, the Deacon called him hack and said “ I’vo heard that you aro getting to be n good boy, “Bill,” and now I want to knmy how you would like to come and live witjj mo 7” This was too much for Willie's already softened heart, and with tears equraing down his checks he said, “Oh, Deacon Grant, yoij aro all so good to mo that I don't know what jti say.” “ Well,” said the old man, and his eyes were not dry. “ you may go down and tell Mrs. Jones, and oomo up tills afternoon.” Willie turned away with a full heart, pon dering what would come next, and before night ho was in his future homo at the Dea con's. The Deacon was away when Willie came, so he brought in the wood, milked the cows and spilt the kindlings, and when Mr. Grant came homo the chores wore all done ; he said nothing, but thought that Miss May nard was right about the boy after all. The noyt morning Mrs. Grant gave Willie a towel, and told him to go out into the.shod and give himself a good scrubbing, and pre pare for church. Willie obeyed, and just ns he commenced dressing, and was wondering if his tqacher had got Ids jacket mended, ho heard her sweet voice outside say : . “Willie, you will fjnd your clothes just by the door—make haste and dross, for I want tq see how you look.” Ho opened the door, and his bright blue eyes glistened with astonishment and plea sure as ho behold the nice jacket and trows era, qnd the pure white shirt, with its plaited linen bosom, which Mrs. Cjrant and l)is teach er,' by working very busily, had succeeded in finishing i and by the side of them was a new pair of stoekings and shoos. The tears flowed thick and fast while ho was dressing, arid his heart was filled with gratitude to his kind friends. When ho igado his appearance there wore general rejoicings over him, for ho was truly a handsome boy. ipul his now, clothes improved his looks much ; and there was a proud, happy look in Miss Maynard’s eye when the “ worst boy in town” took his seat in the Sabbath school. Weeks flow by, and the school closed, and the Deacon, his wife, and Willie are standing at the gate to bid Miss Maynard “ good-bye." Willie’s, Ups quiver, and tears stand in his’blue eyes, as his loved teacher takes his hand to sny fare well, and with a trembling voice he, tplls her that she has bpen the moans pf saying him, from ruin, and that ho shall "never forget the one who has bpen his best friend. One more shako of the hand, one more kindly smile and look and Miss, Jlaynnrd was gone. Let us pass over the space of twelve years, and; on a quiet Sabbath morning let us enter tbo phurch in the village of L : —, one of our Western States. The second hymn is sung, and the pastor arises and takes his text frepn Ps’. xxx. 12, I will extol thee, 0 Lord, for thou hast lifted mo up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.” What is there so strangly familiar about his looks ? We look again, and—can it bo possible? —yes, it is our .former friend Willie—now Kcv. William Hanson, Then glancing around, we see another familiar face, and there sits Miss Maynard; there is the same sweet expression, the same gentle blue eye, that she possessed when Willie first know her. Yes, “Bill Hanson,” ho that was “the worst boy in, .school,” is now, the beloved pastor of his and teacher,_ Miss May nard. , STIRRING ADDRESS FROM ftON. JAMES GUTHRIE, ‘THE CONSTITUTION AS IT . / UNION AS.IT WAS.” Ax AHXtsir HEcquMENDEn. as a War and, I'iXaxcial Measure, At the, celebration of Washington’s Birth day at Louisville, Hon. James Guthrie spoke as follows i . ' Fellow Citizens ; —You have just heard the farewell Address of. Washington, This ' day it has been ipad in ail tfte pitiosand towns of the loyal States, apd, we hope, in most of the families of the country. It is the advice ojf the wisest; purest and, therefore,. the great-, est man recorded on the pages of history; the General whaled ourarmies through theseven longyeara of our revolutionary struggle; the presiding oStcpr over the deliberations of the patriots and sages of the Revolution, whilst they, were forming the Constitution and Union Under which wo have lived so prosperously ; the Executive, chosen py the voice of a free people to put the now Government in- force, and who presided over its destiny for eight years. In this Farewell Address, many lessons of wisdom are given for our future consideration and action; and many of the and hazards of the now Government WO pointed out, and we are more earnestly besought to avoid them. Prominent amongst thenv arc party spirit and the indulgence of sectional feelings and the inculcation of sectional prin ciples. This day, when wo se,o wore than a million of armed citizens in hostile away against each other, and. drenching pie land in blood, mid destroying cities, towns and farms in wasting war, wo capnot hide I‘iQm ourselves that the lessons of' wisdom giyep to us by Washington have been forgot ten oil sot at naught; that this has, to some extent, grown from sectional principles and attempt to sot aside the Constitution as to cer tain provisions by onoseotion, and the wanton acts of ambitious men on the other. Jfow thpt citizen is armed against citizen, brother against brother, father against son, and son against father, we can fully appreci ate Washington’s advice, and the blessings of the Union and internal peace, which ho sought to make perpetual. We have thought and felt that the Constitution of this Union was laid ■ in wisdom and justice, and that to the Union wo owed our progress and our groat prosperi ty as a nation. We have revered the Consti tution and rendered obedience to.the laws made under it, and have loved our flag almost to idolatry, as the emblem of our liberties and our equal rights. Wo have had no kings or lords to worship, and have given our hearts to the Constitution, the Union, and our Flag, and feel that all are equal under its folds.— May this day brine renewed devotion to the Constitution, the Union, arid the Stars and Stripes! I Itavo-always thought and felt that the judgement and hearts of the people wore for the Constitution, the Union, nmj thp flag, as our fathers made them. It is true, wo saw path amazement that there wore some in the North whohqd taught themselves, and wished to teftch'others, to ab hor the Constituting, and proclaimed it a cov enant with hell j and others in the South who denounced its action ns unjust and oppres sive, aqc| sdqght to pinko others think the same. These men looked to a separation of the States, apd the establishment of an Em pire they could rule. Insigriilioa it in the beginning, by perse vering ' efforts these two parties North and South have grown in strength, and this civil war is the result. But now the hearts and .oolings of the mighty moss of the people ore aroused to the consequence, and wo see 600,- 000 armed men marching with banners to the restoration of the Constitution and the Union. They are the conservative men of the country, and are determined to sucoed, and the hearts of the people go with them. If some of the North have bocorpo insane and taught thom aelyfis to believe the world is governed by one idea, and that they are thp missionaries sent by heavon to dominate over others; and if some of tbp South have become insane and made themselves ijoliovo tliqt they were born to rule qnd.reign over another empire, wo are not bound to yipld our Constitution, our Union, our equal lavvaj our eqijal rights and ourglorl ous flag, to' the insane desires of one or both. They have both proven potent for evil, I have always felt ft was far easier to restore the Union than to agree upon the torn)* of separation and the line of division, i*he great Northwest can never consent that the mouth of the Mississippi and the Southern porta should bo within the bounds of a foreign nation, and Kentucky and other internal States can never consent to bo the Border States of adjoining confederacies, and cqnsti tuto themselves outposts for the defence and 1 protection of the interior, nqr/wjjl tljcy sub- 1 mit to numerous collection districts, to tfye ' system of permits and pqssps, nor bo taxed in their outgoings and incomings. They have had free trade between the States and are de termined still to Invve it. I have si}id oqr army'is conservative, and marches to restore the Constitution and the. Uqion. fills ivnqy is a wonderful creation of sdmo seven months, and lies the discipline of veterans, and in recent actions has dis played a tenacity of purpose equal to the most reliable soldiers of history. I havo con fidence in them and in their leaders, and have not been impatient that they did not march to battle earlier. I have been surprised that they marched on such roads and through suoh j weather, and gained such gloclqqs victories. I havo wished the war carried bn upon the I most elevated, principles of Christian human- | ity, and fully up to the highest civilization of tho uga. I would have our armies strike boldly and firmly, with heart and soiil, for tho Constitution and Union as our fathers mode them, but without any wanton destruction of human, life or of property, public, or,private; and when the battle is over, the wounded, tho I dead, and also the prisoners, should bo cared for as becomes a Christian and civilized peo ple. ' . r . ,1 This day, if the power was with me,'an am nesty and tree pardon would bo proclaimed to all, whether in anna or, not, who in a pre scribed time give up their arms and the Koh el cause, acknowledge, the supremacy of the Constitution and tho laws, and agree to'sub mit to them. I am asked what I would do with the lead ers : I reply, I would leave them to the'tribu nal and this- punishment prescribed by tho laws they have violated, hut I am, for the l lar gest forgiveness consistent with the restora tion of the Constitution and tho safety of .tho Union. A.ll are, not leaders in this rebellion who have acted ns its noisy champions, through tho press or on tho stump, or filled high pla cos.in tho strife. . My policy would embrace all who are re ?entant, Ifistory records that the Jews, the avbrod nation ot the Almighty, again and again resisted his sacred laws, and were again chastised for. their rebellious acta. The scheme of salvation tender our holy, religion is based on repentance. • When God forgives the re pentp,nt.sinner, shall not man forgive his re pentant follow man ?• L,et us not be too ex acting. Let us remember that wa are but human. The great, truth shotfld be present with us, that "I'd err, ip hum,an ; to forgive, divine.” This is thp teaching of God’s truth*' The people' often rebe,Ue