VOL. 49.
American VOLUNTEER.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY
JOHN B. BRATTON.
T E 11 M S
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proportion.
Jou-PiiiNTiNQ —Such rs Hand-bills, Posting.bill?,
Pamphlets, Blauks, Labels, Ac. Ac., oxcculod with
accuracy and at tho shortest notice.'
ffoetkffl.
[From tho Columbia Spy,]
BY TUB. WILD SIU-SHOBE,
Alono I walked, by tho wild soa shore,
Where tho billows bad burnished tho, silver floor. *
Ami I paused by' the spot in tho lonely glade.
Where tho holly and pine casfctheir mournful shade;
Ami a sombre'feeling came o'er mo thero. ~
Arl sat in that last abode of men, [more,
•.vhilst a strange woird' group—some twenty •or
Were digging graves by tho wild sea shore.
- Here, on tbo face of their native soil,
Tbo enrolpss negroes cheerfully toil,
■ With of mirth, and shout and song.
They lighten their labor the whole day long.
Ami oft they pease .'ncath.thc-sun's fierce glow.
To brifsh the sweat from,each swarthy brow ;
Yet light is the task (their servitude o.’cr,)
Ibis digging of graves by.the'wild sea shore.
Tbo trains have come, and rites begin—. "
How rudely they jostld-tbo coffins in I
Xo service is road,, no prayer is told,'
lint o’er each bosom the sand is ; rolled;
Xo marble is planted, nor line to. show
The story of those who sleep below; .
Hut the spades are shouldered, the work is o'er—
Aud-twenby now graves murk the wild seashore.
And thus ench day, by the pine's dark shade,
Swiftly tbo grave diggers, ply tbo spado ;
Ami the trains come down froin morn tillnighl
With those who foil in the bloody fight.
Hero friend and fob have a common lot—
Hank and distinction alike forgot—
Onoonrth receives and one sky bends o'er,
And the dead.are alike on the wild sea shore,
Overthe narrow nock of land'
Arc scattered the graves on every baud j
Hirgo-bhanting-wavca on oast and west, [breast;
Whilst the pines; stand guard aVp the sleeping
Andatcarly noon and at sot of. sun
'Freni'tlio fort bombs forth the thunder-gun ;
But unheard are the waves and the cannon's rear,
By those who sloop by thp r/ild sea shore.
And etill in the future the 1 sea shall How,
And the ships' from afar shall conio.and go,
jAnlo’or its prey tbo sea gnlla scream,,
Were .tbo fisher repairs the broken seaipl,
Thtsnpwy.sands bn thb atr>rm-wincls drift
*“‘••f'pines t hoi r forms elmU v
But departed each trace forever more, ' '
Offod graves (bat.iptvrkpd the .wild Bp#Bbdrb,
M turned from the scone with a saddened hear!
/.’'niil, “ Ob ! why Will proud-igen depart
From the gagred paths of truth nnd right,
To challenge his hrathor in deadly fight?
Ambition and power, whoso fearful.cost
Ih «;urcukoncd till all is gained or Iqat 1 .
Oh 1 yo who would yearn lor that goal no more,
06 stand.hy those graves on tlio wild sea shore I”
■And a time worn truth J bad oft hoard told,
Came back again in this proverb old, [riod-p-
MX thought of those forms unto earth thus- bur-
“though we arehorn, »ye are not yet burned!*
Wlmn Death hath his unerring aim
)low worthless is Glory ! lm>? empty’Fame ! -
Wo would barter earth's laurels many times o'er,
Rather than cross to that shadowy shore,
And I saw a? I wont on my lonely way, .
Through Fancy, a gUmpss of that nwftil day
Wlion the World’s huge grave shall offer its dead.
And the myriads rush with a mighty tread,
When.soldier, nivillian, grave-digger—all
f>bajl listen to answer the.trumpet’s call '
Of,Him who will swear that time is o’er,
And’trepibling stand on Eternity’s shore.
-Bka SiroiiK, May. 27, 1802.' ' Cavamust. -'
ffltafellanwuia-
A NIGHT OF TEAKS.
BV GRACE GREERWOOD,
Tho Eastern State Journal, published at
White Plains, Now York, in copying the fol
lowing touching story, gives the following
account of the unfortunate subject of it:
Years.”—, The tale bear-
Wlll bo reftcl witl ! interest, es-
we assure our readers that the
• most l'i?r d fi nt ® o 6 narrative are true, al--
usuallv fhazy iuco,” as she was
through ’ , we i'ave often seen wandering
n( M ®? r ® eta of Chittenango, in the
waa fL w v d ‘ 8 ° 9, ,n ‘hi« State; In 1832
*n old wnmnl'™ 0 w 5 saw 10r- She was then
homnlno mn n, wandering abroad, houseless,
aS C rie?s n t q T fortle f“ Th of her
lips of tlmL u ‘ vo ofton hoard from the
our boyhood n lf ant °, f tllß hints, an( l in ‘
ehadow of that Y a iio,yo shod a tear over the
broken and whna ° D0 ’ w hoseheartliad been
thrown by thJ had been over
rator so curiously domila, n ° M WhlcU th ° nwv
thought W °, re , mß mher her as
floo tron. tl7e pr U o lc rof er „ dUy - Sll ° Would
'cross*
or climb a fence to of the wo/,
JPast him. Neither , Clr! ; ult round and
™usd over nicht if rliiTp 1 d Bl ° sta y in a
her the same roof Pn^ 110 '* a ma h was un
n> the alms house ;„ if,? ILtl,r “ ’ s he died
York, 0 Jn •™ R diBon county, ffew
Q ■
*'y boautifilf rmtim ‘Uf tlia ‘ ntopior of
‘‘lofttthorofmv i 3^o - N «w York, lived
Poctablo farmer IT« n i°’ ‘ unoab ttnd rm '
-Lucy, a n™ b °| ’ 2 I . e J ~ld but two children
o p two youn™ r / I,mOto ' n> “ nd Ellel} '
tbaa ‘ Btrfk?n g ly‘ m bfaT »«>•*
!l? r observable fnn?, UtU ’ UQdor a ron,n
bke serenity w/ rn „ 13 bepi °UBneas and sun
j“ tu «, end y, tt heart'W? 1 i1 uu
g loving.- Sho «. n °* OQ P O3fc capacity
w l ic Blcl,ildhn‘?l f M rfln ? aT kablo from her
a VOICO of thrilling BQd .
“Se?a " aS f'b'bHllinnt antipode of
b. Va of protUnesB° wno t aU i t^ ? ho » o P p «oga'
b* o .own waydn n n mvo her ifrospensi
a.n,!n. l iulgon y tfa t hil thm e 3 -i ftnll all times.
W'i’ n S sister hml’n*!! woalc mot hor, and an
to the ruin “ueonsciously contri-
S‘ rka Mo for "oturo not at flrst ro
horo, in a p A n „ ~a trUnB tl>: of generosity.-
s< 'o dotoatablo „. 8 ; Bro ‘\ t , ur ® s ' is hoartlcss
“Oto, ns m a ‘beautiful woman?
Lucy possessed a fine intellect; and as
lief parents were well retired New England
ers, she and her sister were far bettor educat
ed than other girls of lief situation, in the
half-settled portion of the country)
In those days many wore engaged in school
teaching, fur the honor and pleasure which
it afforded, rather than from necessity, Thus
a few months previous to the commencement
of our sketch, Lucy Dutton left fur the first
time the firsido circle to take charge of a
school some twenty miles from her native
town. For some time her letters home were
expressive only of the happy contentment
which sprang from the consciousness of active
usefulness, of receiving while imparting
good., , ,
But.anon there came a change ; then were
these records from homo characterised by fit
ful dreams for dreary sadness ; indefinable
hopes and fears seemed striving for a supre
macy in the writer’s troubled heart. Lucy
loved , but scarcely acknowledged it to her
self, and knew not that she was loved. So,
I for a long time that second birth of woman’s
I nature was like a-warm sunrise struggling
with the mist of morning. But one , day
brought a letter which could hot soon bo for
gotten in the homo of the absent one—a let
ter traced by a hand that trembled.in sympa
thy with,a heart tremulous with happiness.
Buovhad been wooed and won, and she but
awaited the parents' approval of her choice
to become the betrothed of Edwin IV
a man of excellent family and standing, in
the town where she had been teaching. The
father and mother recorded their sanctions
with many blessings, and Buoy’s next letter'
promised a speedy visit from the lovers. l
’To such a nature!' as Buoy’awhatan absorb
ing, and yet what a revealing, of self la a first
passion—what a prodigiality of greiving,
what an incalculable wealth of receiving—
what a breaking up is there of the deep wa
ters of tha’soul, and haw ifeaven descends in
a sudden star upon life. If there is a season
when an angel may look with intense and
fearful interest upon her mortal sister, ’tis
when.' she beholds her heart pass from the
bud-like innocence and freshness of girlhood,
and taking to its very core the very light of
love, glovy pud crimson into perfect woman
hood,
At last the plighted lovers came, and wel
comes and festivities awaifing fhem. Mr. IV,
gave entire satisfaction to father, mother,
and even to the exacting “ beauty.” lie was
a handsome man with' some pretentions to
fasluop,' but in inntm.pr, and apparently in
character,the. opposite of his betrothed, ft
was decided that Bitcy should not leave home
UUti| after her marriage, which at the request
of her ardptit |over, was to be celebrated with
in two months, and on the coming birth day
of the bride. ■ It was therefore arranged that
Ellen should return with Mr. IV. to M-—,
and take charge of her sister’s school for the
remainder of the term. The bridal bitth
day had come. It had been ushered in by
the rip|) mellow light of an October eun ; the
busy hours had worn away, and now it was
niolj mliifict, and neither, tho bridegroom nor
Ellon, the . first bridesmaid, had appeared.
Yet iu'Kor neat tittle chamber satßucy, noth
ing fearing. She was already clad ia a sim
ple white muslin, and a few bridal orna ;
ments lay on the table by her side.
Marta Allen, her ■ sppond bridesmaid, a
bright-eyed, affectionate-hearted gir{, her cho
sen friend from childhood, was-arranging Ifi
a, more graceful fall of the wreathof light
ringlets that swept her snowy neck.
To the anxious inquiries of her companion
respecting tho absent ones, Bucy smiled qui
etly, and replied ; “ Oh, something has hap
pened to detain- them awhilp ; we board from
them the other day, and well. They
will be here, by-aml-by, never fear,” Eve
ntng canto, the guests were assembled, and
yot tho bridegroom tarried, There were wis
perings, surprises, and wontlerings, and a
shadow of anxiety occasionally passed over
tho fqir face of tho bride elect.
At last a carriage drove rather slowly to
the door v " They have corne l” cried many
voices, and the next moment tho belated,-
bri.legroom and Ellen entered.' In reply to
the hurried and confused inquiries all around
him, Mr. IV. muttered something about “ un
avoidable delay,” and stopping to the side
board, tossed of a glass of wine, another,-and
another. The company stood silent with
amazement. Finally a rough farmer ex
claimed-” Better . late than never, young
man—so load opt the bride.” Mr, IV. strode
hastily across the room, placed himself by
Ellcti, and took hep hand, in his. Then,
without daring to meet the eye of any one
about him, he-said : ”-I wish to make an ex
planation. ■ I am under tho painful necessity
—that is, I have the pleasure to announce
that Jam already married I Xlig ludy whom
I hold by the hand Is my wife !’’ Then
turning in an apological manner to Mi-, and
Mrs, Dutton, .he added, “ I found that I had
never loved until I knew yourfeecond daugh
I And Lucy ! She heard all with strange
I calmness, and then watted steadily forward
and confronted her betrayers. Terrible as
pale Nomisos herself, she stood before them,
and her look pierced like a cold blade into
their false hearts. As if to. assure herself of
the dread reality of the vision, she laid her
I hand on, Ellen’s shoulder and Jot j't glide
down her arm,, but slip touched not ijihvin
I As those Cold fingers 'met her,s the unhappy
I wife first gazed full into her. sister’s face,
I and, as she marked', the ghastly palor of her
cheek, the dilated nostrils and quivering lips,
she covered her own face with her hands and
hurst into tears, .while ; the. .young husband
I.awed by the terrible silence of her )io had
wrpngod,-gasped for. breath and staggered
buck against the wall. Then Lucy clasping
her hands upon her forehead, first gave voice
to anguish and despair in one fearful cry
which could not but wring forever through
the souls of that guilty pair, and then fell in
a death-like, swoon at their feet.
■ .“ After the ipsonsiblo girl had been remov
ed to her chamber, a stormy scene ensued
in the room beneath, The parents and guests
W.ero alike enraged against W„ but the pray
era and tears of.his youqg wife—the pcftoJ
beauty and spoiled oliild—-at hist softened
somewhat the anger of the parents, and an
opportunity for an explanation was accorded
to the o(landers, A sorry explanation ii.
proved, :
The gentleman affirmed that the first sight
of Ellen’s loyolyfaoo had weakened the em
pire of her plainer sister over bis affections.
Frequent' interviews had completed, the
conquest of. his loyalty; bat he had
boon hold in ebook by honor, and never
told his love till on his way to espouse anoth
er ; in an unguarded moment ho revealed it
abd.the avowel called forth »n answering ac
knowledgment from Bllenr They bad thought
it best m order to “save pain from Lucy ”
and prevent Opposition from'her— and to's’e
oute their own happiness— to bo married be
fore they arrived at 0
, remained insensible for some hours.' i
When she had revived and had' apparently I
regained tier consciousness, she still maintain- i
ed her strange silence. This continued ufatil' (
weeks lind passed away, and her friends saw
with inexpressible grief that her reason had
flod—sho was hopelessly insane. She- was as
-gentle and:peaceable ns ever, but sighedifre
quently, and seemed burdened witfn some
great sorrow which she could not herself
comprehend. She had one peculiarity, which
all who knew_ her in after years must recol
lect ; and this was a careful avoidance of
men. She also seemed-' possessed by the
spirit of unrest. She would, not be confined,
but was continually escaping from her friends,
and going they knew not whither.
Whilelier parents lived, by their watchful
care and. unwearying efforts, in some mea
sure controlled this sad propensity , but when
they difid, this stricken child became a wan
derer, . homeless,, friendless and forlorn.
Through the laughing spring and rosy sum
mer, the golden autumn: and tempestuous
winter, it was tramp, tramp, tramp,—no rest
for her of the crushed heart and frozen brain,
I remember her as she was in my early child
hood, towards the last of her weary pilgrim
age. As. my father and elder brothers were
frequently absent, and as my mother never
closed her heart or her door on the unfortu
nate, “Crazy Luce” often spent,an hour dr
two at our fireside. Her appearance was
very singular. Her gown was always patched
with many colors, and .her shawl or mantle
worn or torn until it was all open-work and
fringe. The remainder, of her miserable
wardrobe she carried in a bundle, on her arm,
and sometimes slt,o bad a number of old rags,
dried herbs, &e.
. Jn the season of flowers her. tatfered bon
net was profusely decorated with those which
she had gathered ip the wood op by the way
aide. Her love for these, and her sweet voice
was all that was left hep of the bloom and
music of existence, Yet, no ! her meek and
■ohild-liko piety still lingered. Her God had i
pot forsaken her j down in the dim chaos of
her spirit, the smile of flis love yet gleamed
faintly," in the waste garden of her heart ■'; l
she si ill heard Ifis voice at eventide, and she
was not afraid., Ifer Bible went with her
ever-f-a torp and soiled volume,- bpt ns holy !
still, and it may be as dearly cherished, my
readers, as the gorgeops copy now lying- on
you.r table hound in purple and gold, and
With the guildiuguntarnislibd upon its leaves,
J remember to have hoard my mother fo
late a touching incident connected with, one
of Ijuoy’s brief Whs fops. Tiia poor crea
ture onoo laid her bands oh the curly head of
one of my and asked .him his name.
“ AVilliani Edwin,” he replied with a timid,
ppward glance. She caught away her hand,
and sighing heavily said,
“I knew an Edwin once, and ha iaade me
broken hearted.”
This was the only instance in which she
was ever known to feverf to the sad event
which had desolated her life,
» » *
Some thirty years from tho time of ; this
history, on a bleak autumnal evening, a rough
country wagon drove into tho village of G
-• It stopped at an alms house ; an at
tenuated foytt} was lifted' o,ftt find oaryxd Hi'
and awgy rumbled the wagon. Thus was
Lucy. Dutton brought to her native town to
die. She had been in a decline for several
months, and her mirflouldus strength which
had so long sustained her in her weary wan
dering, at last foorsook her utterly. Her sis
'cr had died some time before, and the wid
owed husband had soon after removed to tho
far west—so Lucy had no friends, no homo
but the alms house. But they were very
kind to (fer there. The Matron, a woman
whose soft heart even Hie hourly contempla
tion of hurpan misery could not harden gave
herself with unwearying devotion to the quiet
sufferer, With eyes of Christian faith, she
Watched the shattered barque of that life, as
borne down,the tide within it neared the
greqt deep of etprpity, anxipus inter
est,
- One day about a week from the time of her
arrival; Lucy appeared to suffer greatly, and
those about her looked for her release almost
impatiently j. but at night she was evidently
better, and for tho first time slept trail quil
unlij morping, .The Matron who was by her
bedside whep she nyrok o . was startled by the
clear iind' earnest gaze which met her own,
but she smiled and bails the invalid “ good
morning.” IfUoy looked bewildered, but the
voice seemed to reassure her, and she ex
claimed. . 1
VOh, what a lopg night this has bean.”
- Then glancing arouml inquiringly, she ad
ded.
Where am I? and who are you ? I don’t
know you 1”
A wild surprise flashed across the mind of
the Matron, the long lost reason of the wan
derer had returned J But the goad woman re
plied calmly and soothingly,
" Why, you are among your friends, and
you will know me present y."
,f Then may be you ki)OW Edwin and EL
len,” rejoined the invalid, “have they re
turned f Oh, I had such a terrible dream. I
dreamed that they were married! To
think—Ellen married to Edwin 1 'Tis strange
.that I should dream that I’’
“ My poor-Lucy,” said the Matron with a
gush of tears, “ t|i»t was not»
dll true.”
“All true ?" cried the invalid, “ then Ed;
1 must be untrue—- and that cannot he, for ho
.loved mo—we'loved each other well and El
len is my sister. Let me see them !” She en
deavored to raise herself but fell back faint
ing on the pillow, “ Why, what does this
njcan f’f said she ; “ what makes mo so weak ?"
Just then her eye fell on her own hand. She
gazed up it iu blank astonishment, “ Some
thing is tlio matter witli my sight," said she
smiling fajptly, “for my hand looks to me
like an old woman’s.”
■ “And so it is," said the Matron, gently,
“ and so is'mino ; and yet we had fair plump
hands when wo wore young. Dear Lucy, do
you not know me ? t am Maria Allen; —l
was tq haye been your bridesmaid 1" ,
I can narrate no m oro : I will not make
the attempt to giyo in detail all that mourn
ful revealing—to reduce to oppressive words
the dread sublimity of that hoploss sorrow.
To the wretched Lucy, the last thirty' years
were as though they had not been. Of not an
incident, had she tlfo slightest remembrance,
sipce the night the recreant lover and the
traitorous sister stood before her and made
their terrible aqnounoomont,
The kind matron paused frequently in the
flad narrativ.q of her poor friend’s madness
arid wanderings, but the invalid would say
“ go on, go on,” though the leaden drops of
qgony stood thick upon her forh.oad, When
she asked for her sister, the Matron replied.
" She bus gone before you, and your fath
er also.’’ :
. “And my mother?" said Lucy, her face
lit pp with a sickly ray of hope,
“ Your mother has been dead for twenty
years." , '
“ Dead,l nil. gone 1 clone 1 old 1 dying ?
Oh God,l my onp of bitterness is full 1" Arid
she wept aloud. Her friends'bonding over
b.s a jD d Ih'hgjiogpitying.tears .wjth hers,
said affootionallyyßut you know who drank'
that cup before you?" Lucy looked 1 up with
“OUR COUNTRY-MAY JT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY."
• CARLISLE, FA., THURSDAY, JULY 3, 1862,
Americans are an inquisitive people, yet
from the very necessity which this engenders,
there is no person better understands, tho aft
of parrying and baffling inquisillgmess in an
other than a Yankee. \Fo were, quite, amused
recently by an account given by : %|ity friend
of a ooloquy which came off in aphuntry vil
lage through, which hp was travollihg, between
himself qnd one. of. the, “ natives,” who. mani
fested pu Itqhipg to pry into, huj af
fairs. ''. ■ ■'
‘ Uow 'do you do V\ exolaimcatbo latter,
bustling up to him as ho alighted fora few.
moments at a hotel,. ‘ JRooot) d’ve seen yap
Tore now V ■ ■
: ' Oh,yes, was the answer of the Yankee
‘ho doubt; I have been there often in my
life.’
'* Spoao you’re going to—*' (expecting the
name and place to lie supplied.) ■
‘Just so—l go there regularly once a year.’
. 'And you’ve come froin-rr’ .
‘Exactly, sir 5 you are exactly right; that
is.my place of. residence.’
i Really, now, dew tell ; I ’sposo you’re a
lawyer, or maybe a trader, or perhaps some
ither perfeshup pr calling,’
‘ Yes, I have always one jof
ieso professions.’
‘ Got business in the country,'eh ?’
‘• Yes, } am at this time engaged in travel-:
• I,see by ybpr trunk that yon'refrom Bos-;
con. Anything stifring-in Bosto.n
‘ Yes ; men, women, horses atid carriages,
a,nd a famous northeaster.’
[ng.’'
* You don’t say so ? Well, I declare, how,
you »re tarnal cate. What do you think they
will do with Sims ?' , 1 r
‘ Why, it is my opinion that eith
er deliver him up' to the claimant, or let him
go free/ , "
‘ You've had a monstrous sight of rain in
Boston—did am awful sight'of damage I sup
pose ?’ y ,' '
‘ Yep, it wot.alf tI)Q buildings and made the
streets damp—very damp, indeed!’
‘ Didn’t old Fanenil Hail get il'csoakin ?’
—'lilw Common,
under the Liberty tree, '
‘ You are a circus chap, I guess; you are
kinderfoolin. Pray, Mister, if it’s a civil
question what might your name be ?’ ",
‘ It might bo Smith or Brownj but it is not
by a long chalk. The.faetis, sir, I never had
a name, When I was born, my mother was.
so busy that she forgot to name me, and soon
after I was swapped away by mistake for an
other boy, and am now just applying to the
Legislature for a name. When J get it I will
send you my curd. Good morning, sir.’
And so saying the speaker jumped into the
carriage arid drove oil, leaving the Paul pry
of the place scratching {ns head in bewilder-,
ment, arid apparently in more perplexity than
ere hp |iad commenced his cateehisings, ..
* ' .*
Lodge No, 227, under the jurisdiction ,of
the Grand Lodge of Ireland, was attached by
a traveling warrant which had been granted
in the year 178?, to the 46th regiment of the
British army,. wjiile serving in America du
ring the war of the Revolution, The Lodge
chest, qt ong tiiflo ( sqys the London freema
son's Review, fell iflto the hands of the,Amer
icans, and they reported the diroflrfla.tancos to.
Geni Washington,'.-who .embraced! the oppoi
tmiity lif testifying.his, estimation of Mason
ry, in marked.and gratifying man
ner, by directing .tjpitm guard.of honor, un
der a distinguished officer, should take charge
.qf the chest, with iflflny articles of.yq.lue be
longing to.the 4Qth, and return them to the
regiment. The surprise, the feeling of both
officers and men, may bo imagined when they
perceived the flag of tyfloo .thqt announced this
elegant compliment from theiy noble oppo
nent, but still more fluh.le brother, The
guard of honor, with their flutes playing a
sacred march—the chest, containing the Con
stitution qnd implements of the Craft, born
aloft, like another ark of tho covenant, equal-
ly by Englishmen' and Americana, who,
lately engaged in the strife of war, flow
marched through the enfiladed rqfllys of. the
gallant regiment,-that, with presented arms
and color, hailed the glorious act by cheers,
which the sentiment rendered scored qs the
hallelujahs of an angel's song. .
A similar courtesy was extended to this
lodge on another and subsequent occasion.—
In the year 1805, while in the island of Bouit
iria, the 46th regiment was attacked by a
French force, war at that time existing bo-
•tween the governments of France and Great
Britain ; and again the lodge had the misfor
tune lo lose its chest, which was carried on
board tho.Frenoh fleet, its cap - ore haying had
go opportunity of discovering the nature of
its contents. But, three years afterwards,
when the character of the prize had heooipo
kndwp, the JTronoh. government, at the ear
nest recj'upst of ,tt) e offioofs who had comman
ded the expedition, returned the chest, with
several complimentary presents, as a tribute
from an .enlightened option to the excellence
and sacred character of the Jfasonio institu
tion. ;
, In 1834, the warrant or constitution of this
lodge was renewed by-, the Grand Bodge of
Ireland, on which occasion these interesting
incidents in its history wpro elicited from the
records. \ ■
Of the ultimate fate of a lodge .whoso vic
issitudes. in war form so interesting a portion
of the annals of free Masonry, it is fortu
nate that we can furnish the history. The
lodge became again dormant, but was revived
on the 28th of Starch, 1847, and established
jonganegtly in Montreal as “The Lodge of
i Social and Military Virtues/ No. 327."
■ O" A modest old maid visiting, a newly
married friend recently saw .her husband s
shirt lying on the bod, exclaimed:
“Oh, mercy, a man’s shirt on your bod r
Such a thing on my.bod would give m° “ 10
nightmare 1" , , .. ,
“Very likely,"-responded the Wife. cn-
Joss the man was in it."
jjgy A' schoolmaster ip Ireland advertises
that ho, will kpep Suhdoy school twice a WOok
Tuesdays and Saturdays.
a bewildered expression, and the Matron adt
ded. “ The Lord Jesus Christ; you lememr
her him?” A .look of sunlight breaking
through a cloud—a look which only saints,
may wear, irradiated the face of tho dying
woman, as she replied :
“ Oil yes, I know him and loved him before
I fell asleep 1"
The man of God was called—a few who
had known Lucy in her younger days came
also. There was much reverential wonder
ing, and some weeping around her death-bed.
Then rose the voice of prayer. At first Her
lips moved, as her weak spirit joined in that
fervent appenl ; and poor Lucy’s.'eyes wore
closed in death 1 But those who,gazed upon
that placid face and rememboreb.,her harm
less life and her patient sufferijJg, doubted
not that the morn of another otef ial day had
broken on her Night op Years. ■
Puzzling a Yankee, -
Tjie Courit(»y of Masonry.
A Walk Over the BalUe-Field.
The .Horrors of War—The Dead in Heaps—
Ghastly■ Spectacle—Postures of the. Slain.
Tho correspondent of tbe New York Ex
press, from Fair Oak station, Juno 6th Inst.,
writes aa follows:
I paid a visit to the battle-field of Saturday
and Sunday, called by some the “Battle of
the S.evon Fines,” this morning. The camp
of Caseys’ division presented a sight which
an artist might envy, and yet one of desola
tion., All around lay charred ruins, clothing,
guns, cartridge boxes, &c., the property main
ly of our own troops, The whole camp was
just as level as the Russ pavement on Broad
way. Here it was where the enemy first
made their first appearance on Saturday, and
where they so badly drove back our mem—
A little further on is a piece of woods, and by
walking through water and mud knee deep,
one is enabled to investigate its contents.—
The bark of nearly every tree is peeled off to
ward the roots, the rifle balls and canister
fired into the forest by our men, hayirg ta
ken down the trees about as lively as they did
rebels. Letters, guns by the dozens, both
Secesh and Union, clothing enough to start
half the Catham street, in business, new
made graves, yet unhurried bodies, pud all
the minor indications of battle and death form
one of the saddest scenes ever, witnessed on
the Virginia Peninsula, In a swamp we
found eight bodies ot Alabamians close, to
gether, and. m such a state of decomposition
that hardly a man saw them, without turning
away his head. Their clothes were on, but
the bodies were so swollen, that they fitted as
tight as th.o skin itself. In several cases the !
flesh had already been eaten off by vermin I
and the skull lay bare: It was a disgusting
scene, which some people might have seen
with profit, Rut, it ought to be added, that
pur. people are hurrying the dead just as fast
as they can reach the remains* .
I savf ono body, which was evidently that
of a rebel officer. His clothing rather
better than that of a large majority we saw,
and Other indications pf rank ere numerous.
He lay concealed hphind some brush, and had
evidently been. vyounded, sought ftp shelter
and there died, Ifhe limbs were,contracted,
hut on the face there seemed to rest a placid
smile. One hand held on.to a rail fence pear
by, while’the other was extended upon the
earth. Like all the rest, the body was svyol
len to, twice its natural size, and millions of
vermin were fast devouring it. Calling some
scouts, a grave was dug, and the decaying
flesh was consigned to its last resting place.
Another, body was found sitting on the
ground, the hack braced, against a fence.—
The skin was peeling off the hands, and hung
down from the fingers in shreds. One hand
rested on tho musket, whpse contents had
been discharged. The head drooped to one
side, and the features woro-fearfuliy Contrac
ted, evidencing a dying struggle of a most
painful nature. . ,
A curiosity seeker might have collected a
buslio,. of letters,in these'weeds so full of hor
rors, but I have not the heart tor tho task.
To show how desperate was tho struggle
in the heavy woods between Casey’s and
Ward’s camp, I have spoken of tho bullet
marks upon the trees, of tho-dead and of their
effects, everywhere seen. Another indicafion
was the clothing, yet hanging upon low tree,
I branches, fences, and lying upon the ground.
An officer engaged in the battle tells me that
when-we pursued, on Sunday, the retreating
rebels to tho woods through wbiohj on Satur
day, they drove us, a desperate encounter en
sued, ' ■
Hundreds of men, on both sides; throw off
all their superfluous clpthing and went in, as
wo were told the Sixty-ninth did at Bull Run,
stripped almost to the waist, Those who
had tWopportpnity, placed their coats whore
they wopld b° ■ others, with no
time fur that, threw the ground, and
lostthem with their lives. , Within a space
of two acres there are ungathored arms en
ough to supply a New York militia regiment.
In that small space nearly sis fapndred men
were sent to tbP>? long account,
,’At Casey’s old camp there were no human
bodies, as there it was an easy matter to dis
pose of, tlipm immediately, alter the fight.—-
But hundreds of horses, torn by shot and
shell, lay all around", the carcasses emiting a
pestilential steilch. On Sunday, when we
tyere.agaiu iu_possosaipn of the field, men and
animals, layjjlosely together—;
ludef apd stood ip ono roil burial blont.”
animals are now being burned, as that
Tho
,3 the only way in which they can bo disposed
of, and the borrhl effluvia removed from its
close euntaej: with onrcamp. • Upon approach
ing this spot, it require? considerable effort
to load a man to walk up to it, the recking
Oder being offensive. ■ To-morrow its condi
tion will be favorable enough forro-ocoupa
tion, In a direct railroad line from this camp
to Richmond is just seven miles. .“Fair Oak”
is the name of the station, A building near,
the switch is now. used as a hospital, mainly
for the rebel wounded, and right oppssite are
the headquarters of Gen. Meagher- and his
Irish brigade.. ■
Speaking of the hospital at this station re
minds mo that our men yet Hud wounded
rebels in the woods. Yesterday, two Or three
were discovered under some brush. One had
a leg amputated just below the knee, by a
rebel doctor, who is with his companions;
another had a foot taken off, and yet.another
an arm. dVlfhout .conveniences for proper
treatment, the operation seemed very harsh.
The sufferers were seated upon a barrel, and
hejd by a couple of men, submitted to .the
painful treatment, AH around wore the am
putated parts, and pools of blood. Seated
against a tree near by was a rebel soldier,
well clad in a suit ol Confederate gray, with
a bullet hole in both cheeks. The missile
had passed in on one side and came out upon
the other. His face was besmeared with Clot
ted gore, and owing to long neglect (the Fed
erals hqd just foiinff him) it was impossible
for him to articulate.! The very picture of
misery, this unfortunate man sat propped
against n tree, awaiting his turn for treat
ment. On. blankets near by, wore half a
dozen who had died during surgical opera
tion. Others, pale and weak, looke(| aropnd
them with a half frightened gaze, witnessing
the work of their surgeons. Dozens of opr
own men were at blind, and in silence saw
the fate iff war, one wants to see but once,
Tifß Smart Dixie Boy.—Onpp tljero was a
t-tlo boy,' on-ly four years old Ifis name
.■7)B Dix-y- His father’s narqo wa a I-aharp,
and his mother's was AH-shait), Dix-y was
very smlirt. ’ ffe could drink whis-key. fight
chiok-ens, ploy pok-er, and cuss bis mother. —
■\yhon ho was only two years old he Could
' steal su gar, hook pre-sorvgs, drown jfit-tpns,
and tdll lies like, a man. Dix-y died and went
to the bad place. But tbs Dov-il would not
lot Dix-y stay there, for ho said, “When you
get big, Pix-y, you would bo head dey-il your.-,
self." All little Rebels ought to be likq Dixy,!
apd they will if they stud-y the Con-fed-er
ato Prira-or,
Making Fan of. Tliem.
Tho Nashville Union has been “ having its
littlo jokes at the expense of the diacpmfitted
Seoesh of that city. The Union purports to
review the “ Rev. U. M’Ferrin’s Confederate
Primer,” and gives some choice extracts from
its . ; pages. Tho Primer, after giving tho al
phnbotdrv d.no form, offers some littlo rhymes
for young Confederates, from which wo se
lect a few samples;—;
At Nashville’s fall
We sinned all.
At number Ten
Wo sinned again
Thy purse to rpend,
Old Floyd attend,
Aho Lincoln bold .
.Our ports doth hold
Jeff Davis tolls a lie,
And so must you and L
Bravo Pillow’s flight
Is out of sight. •
• ■' B. '■
B.uell doth play,
And after-slay.
Yon Oak will be tire gallows tree
Of Richmond’s fallen majesty.
; iKo following are taken from'-the-Biogra
phical Questions and Answers for. littlo chil
dren
Q—Who was the first man ?
A—General Pillow; —because he was tho
first to run p/?' from Fort Doholsou, '
Q—Wlio was tho strongest man?
A—General Price, for you can smell him a
mile.
Q —Who the wisest,miin ?
A—Governor Wise—for lie has that disoro
ion which is the “ better .part of, valor.”
Ouiuons . Mi.aaoa.—Among the curiosities
exhibited gttlio last Paris Exposition, and pro
mised for ours, was a huge concave mirror,
tho instrutgenj ol § startling species of opti
cal. magic, Qn standing close to the mirror,
and broking into it, it presents nothing but
a magnificent monstrous dissection of your
own physioghonjy. Qa retiring a little, say
a eoqplo.of feet, it gives your own fade and
figure in true proportion, but reversed, the
head downwards, ‘ Jjost ot tho spectators, ig
, noranff of anything else, pbsei-ve these two £t
-1 fects and pass on. But'retire still further.;
; standing at tho distance, of. five or six feet
‘ from the m.irror, and behold jpu see yourself,
’ not as' a reflection—it does not-strike you as
, a reflection—but your veritable self, standing
in the middle part between you and tho mir
t ror. Tho effect is almost appalling from the
_ idea it suggest of something supernatural; m,
■ startling, m'fact, that juory ' the
; nerves will shrink involuntarily at the -fipS'
[ view. If you raise your cane to thrust It at
. your other self, you will see it pass through the
' body and appearing on tho other side,.tho fig
ure .thrusting it same instant. ■/ , K
The aryst who first sucopded in finishing a
mirror of, this description, brought it tp one of
tho French kings—if we recollect, aright, it
was Louis, XV—placed, his majesty on the
right spot, and bade him draw his sword and
thrust it at the figure he saw. The king did
so ; but, seeing tho point of tho s,Word direct
ed to his own breast, lip threw dpwn his weap
on and ran away, -Tho practical joke cost the
inventor the king’s patronage and favor-; his
majesty being, afterwards sj/ashamed of his 1
own cowardice, that he could’never again look '
at tho mirror or its owner. —English Paper. 1
“Some lloss,”— O.ice oa a time a Yankee
1 who was traveling through Kentucky, had a
fine horse and no money.- lie had taught the
animal to lie down or sit: on his haunches
when the bridle .was pulled pretty hard. Our
traveler saw no way of replenishing his puree
hut by selling his horse and this ho-resolved
to dp. the first opportunity, As ho was.going
slowly, along ho saw a hunter , at some dis
tance from the road \yhqm ho rode up to and
accosted. - In'tho' course of the conversation
he told the latter he had an invaluably horse
to sell—a horse.that would act precisely like
a setter, when ho was. in. the vicinity ol
game.. Casting his eyes around, at.tlie same
time discovering some fresh-rabbit tracks, he
gave the bridle a jerk, The. docile animal
laydown'. ■ , ~ ■ ;
“There are some rabbits here," said the
rider. “I know by his oars;"
The Kentuckian, curious to test the repu
ted sagacity of the horse; searched around,
and, sure enough,- started three or four rab
bits. Ho was greatly surprised, but the Yan
kee took the affair of course. Tomake along
story short, the wonderful horse changed
hands on the,spot, three hundred dollars be
ing tb,e consideration. Ills new Owner moun
ted him, and with characteristic hospitality,
the Yankee agreed to accompany him home.
They soon came to a stream which they had
to cross, and which was rather deep for horse
men. Judge of- the Kentuckian’s dismay
when, on,Rpl|ing. the .bridle jn the middle ol
the river, his steed subsided in the running
waters as if he.was a hippopotamus.
“How is this?” ho roared out, nothing but
his head visible.
The Yankee who was mounted on the hun
ter’s other horso was not disconcerted in the
least,-but replied coolly :
“Oh IT forgot to; tell yon he is as good for i
fish as for rabbits 1” I
Temperance Beverage.— l have soon n
number of receipts in your paper lately for
making Sprqco Beer, but none meet
my wishes; and as I have, been the recipient
of a very good one, I forward it to you with
a bottle of the samp, to see if you do not agree
with pie in pronouncing it excellent.
RECEIPT,
1 gallon of water,
1 quart good molasses,
} ounce whole cloves,
jounce white
i ounce whole allspipo,
j ounce sassafras.
Boil all well. ‘I boil niine three hours.'
After tnk ! ng it off the fife, pour it into a
clean tub and add one and a half gallons of
water. Jjet this stand till mill? wiirm, then
add two tableapopps of bpker’p or brewer’s
yeasf; then stand away in tl)o cellar or some
cool place during the night, povpring ft with
a towel to keep flies out, The next day it
will bo fit for bottling. One or, two raisins,
with a few holes punched in them with a
fork, placed in each bottle, add greatly to its
flavor. Put it in strong bottles, cork tightly,
and tie down with twine. Set in a cold col
lar, and in throe or four days it will bo ripe.
— Germantown. Telegraph.
, ; ,When the lawyers flourish, the laws
■do not.'
[C7* “Bad,” said a hopeful sprig, “how
many fowls are on the table ?” • ■■
‘\Vhy, ~, said the old gentleman, ashe
looked complacently on a pair of finely roast
ed chickens that vrere smoking on the dinner
table; “why, my son, there are two.ll ■. ,
“Two I” replied young smartness, "there
are three,’sir, and I'll prove it.-”
“Three ?" replied the old gentleman who
was a plpin matter-of-fact man, and under
stood, things as ho saw them. “I’d like to
have you prove that." / .
“Easily done, air, easily done ! Ain’t that
one," laying his knife upon the first ?, . :
“Ifesi that’s certain,” said his dad.
"And ain’t that two?" pointing to the,sec
ond, “and don't one and two added together
make three ?" . . 1 .
“Ileally.said the father, turning to. the old
lady who was listening in astonishment; at
tlio immense learning of her son, “really,,
wife, this hoy is a genius and.deserves to be
encouraged' for it. Here old lady, do you
take one fowl, and I’ll take the second, and
John may have the third for his learning/?.
Could’nt See It.—A juggler was perform*
mg to a western.audience, and exhibiting one
ot his icuts of mysterious .disappearance, ac
companying. it.with'tbe following strain- . V
“Now. gentlemen, I take’ the ball thus, in
the palm of my loft band /cover it with the
rjglit.haja.d, thus ; rub them gently? together
in this style ; ami, behold! .’tis' gone. You
thus see, gentlemen— ’V.. . , ,
‘No, I can’t see,’ replied an individual
among the audience./ ■ ’
The juggler .rapeiited-'hia performance. ‘I
take theMmll thns, ot cetera, and, behold! tio
gone. You thus -ace, gentlemen—■* ....
, 0 ■ I cannot see,’ reiterated the same in*
dividual.' -i .... i- i .... . •,. ,■
‘May I ask,’ returned the excited juggler, ‘
‘why the gentleman can’t see when-*-’ .... ;
•Yes ; that’s about the thing. I am,blind.’
I’ho juggler rang down the curtain.
A Large Onion-.— ‘ Do you call them laree
.mips V ■ .
Why, yea, they 1 are considerable largo.’
‘ They may he so for turnips, bur, {lnly ate
nothing to an onion I saw thootln relay."
, ‘ Anti .bow- large- wiw the omon V
‘ 0, a monster, it weighed forty pounds,’
. ‘ Forty pounds ?’ ■ S: '■ ,
_ ‘ Yes, and wo took off the layers, and-the
sixteenth layer went completely round o dom'i*
John that held four rfhljons 1’
’ ‘ What a whdppin- V
‘ You don't aiiy'tliat I lie ?’ , ■ - •;
‘0„ no; iyhat a chopper of an onion. I
mean.’ ■
Black vs. , White.—The True American
learns from reliable authority that certain,
abolitionists in Bucks county, Pennsylvania,
have recently discharged white Ihborers on
their farms ancT have. substituted them by
’r.umway negroes from the South, attbe'ehorn
,iuous wages of ten cents a day.'"
/ ,0-7“ The facetious Mr. Bearoroft told his
rfficmt Slr. Vaosittart,.
V 1 Tour name is such a long one, I shall drop
the sittart, and call you Van, for the future.
‘ ‘ With all my heart,’ said.hojby thp same
rule I shall drop the croft, and call you
Bear’ . ; »■ * ,
SnobTiJtO Affair.— A tax collector called
on a. farmer at Wilton, lowa, for lus dog tax,:
The farupr.refused to pay, and the collector,
■shot his dog, whereupon the farmer immedi
ately seized his-gun and shot the collector
dead on .the spot. ,
O’’ Target shooting is How practised, uni-;
yorsally. in the French army; nut:,Only tl e
troops, on. foot and .mounted, .who are armed
with muskets,-tabe part in, .the .exereiso, but
also the cavalry regiments, armed with pistols
only, such as the lanoora. V V
The Austrians -ihave an odd way of
increasing the- oireulptipn of newspapers.
The policy recently closed, twenty-seven coffee
houses in Venice because they rofusedto
take the Verona Gazette . ;
O’A doctor’s wife, attempted to move
him by her tears. “Ah 1” sitid.ha>“ tears
are useless. I have, analyzed them. They
o mtain a little phosphate of lime, some oholo
rate of sodium, and water.”
"Cotto.v.—Two bun Irod- and forty nine
bales of, cotton were shipped from this port
yesterday. Prices were, rather stiffijr than
they have boon for sose time past. —Nash
ville Union, May 30,
ID”“You can’t do too much work for
your employers, man,” said somebody to ~A
hig-fisted, strong.back man of-all-wbrk, on
the- wharf one day. “ Arrah, bajahors,” re
plied Pat, with emphasis, “ neither will IP’
(O’ During the whole of the battlo on th*
Ist inst.. Prof. Lowe’s balloon was overlook
i ig the terrific scone from an altitude of about
2,000 feet. .This is the first rpgQunqj,
sanoo during a battle.
OD* There, must, certainly he a deal of fun
attendant upon, running “.wid.der machine,-”
else there would -not be so-many willing to
work gratis for insurance companies.
1D”.4- gentleman who wont off in search
of his rights has returned to Louisville, amji
says the only ones he was likely to find in
the Southern Confederacy was his funeral
rites.,
S<aF"OM uniforms made of ‘ shoddy’ are in
demand, to be manufactured into blotting pa
per. Wo ..doubt if they .will ever blo.t out the
remembrance of the gins of certain contrac
tors. . r. .
C'T’AV'hy are two young ladies kissing
each other an emblem of Christianity ? An
swer, “ because they are doing, to each other
as they would men should do unto them."
JET" The first rebel regiment of Kentucky
ins been disbanded by the .Confederate Mil
iary authorities. The cause assigned is that
t could not be depended upon..i. ,
B®. Theodore Hook tncCa'lfi'ippd jgsl {iffer
leaving the Kings’ Bench Prison [ who said to'
him that bo was getting fat. ‘Yes,* replied
[look, ‘ 1 was enlarged to-day.*
If you wait fop others to advance yourin
torpsta in this world, you will have wait go
long thpt your interests will not be worth
advancing at all. ' '.
O” “ Thorp, nopr,” cried a,little girl, while
rummaging a drawer in the bureau, “ there,
now, Oran pa hap gone to Heaven without
his spectacles." ■
C7* During, the past year the Catholics of
the United States have dedicated 95' ebdreh
es, many of thorn very costly And magnificent.
Character.—Those who lack a go? 1!,
ral character may be sure they court, J -J*
sustain, without detection, ad*'*.
NO. 4.