Aiiirriran HHm il oluntf m VOL. 49. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. runusimn every Thursday MORHiNa by JOUI B. BRATTON. TEEMS SitnacniPTlox. —Ono Dollar anil Fifty Costs, paid ,in advance; Two Dollars if paid within thoyonr:- •,'jnd Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within Ilio year. Those terms will bo rigidly adhered to in , o vory instance. No subscription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at the option of the Editor. ; Advertisements— Accompanied hy the cash, and not exceeding ono square, will bo inserted throe .limes for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each 'additional insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion., ‘ Jon-PnixTixn—Such ns Hand-hills, Posting-bills, .pamphlets; Blanks, Babels, <fce. <tc., executed with accuracy and at the shortest notice. pitot WELCOME TO SDiill'^B. UY PfeTRIl PEEP. Welcome, glorious Summer, Heartily welcome now? Thy basket full of beauties, The smile upon tby brow. So gently boro thou cbmest. Gladly do wo greet'thee? Most beautiful and fair one. Merrily wc meet tbcc. "What has kept tboo bright one ? , , Long have been the hours That we’ve watebed and waited For tby buds and flowers ; For birds and buds and blossoms, Ijooked wo long in-vain, But now they're coming) coming With tbeo back again. Know'st.tbou yet my maiden, . Blooming.fresh'and fair/ With goodness In her bright eyes, Tho sunshine in her hair? . Aha! thou'st not forgather, ' In thy joyous glee; Kuow'stthou that I love her, And my mald.lovosmo ? . Then this is waited. Looked andwaited Ipngj For thy buds amt blossoms, Thy birds with hounlo song, 'Yes, this is I?hy ive'vo waited ; So, long and 'anxiously*, To steal thy : buds and blossoms, Wy pretty maid and mo, , Then welcome gentle Summer, Gladly welcome now, 'Thy basket full of beauties, The smile upon thy brow ;. So sweetly now thou earnest,' Gladly do wo greet thee ; . Most beautiful and fair, one, Merrily we moot thee. Mmllmnm. BY A LADY. •‘What shall I do to pass away: my time ■pleasantly, and usefully ?’ was.'tho question I put to myself nfior the last ‘ good-bye’ hnid been spoken, the last kiss exchanged, and the .parting words of my husband bad died out of the now desolate room, leaving a lingering echo ni my heart which sounded like Desolation. It will never do to sit down hero idly, and brood in vain regret during his absence ; and surely if he thought I should do nothing but nine and grieve for him, it would add. a •heavier weight than now rests, upon his mma,. for then two sore causes for trouble would rest upon him. It is enough to feel ’djh ? ur dear country calls for him in her affliction, and God go with him in her cause. I'should blush for him .if ho hold aloof now, imr offered himself in the full vigor and pride (>f his young life, as a shield against the ar rows of destruction which threaten her, and fwhioh have already severed some of the ibrightest links which united our beloved Ha itian q and while ho has gone forth, brave in ■• the defence of right and truth, shall I sit 1 down and cry like a miserable, .scllish child, 'because it cannot have the toy it loves best always in its hands '! No, no. That will nev ’ do. ’ I should, never claim to be a daughter ■of my proud, beautiful,'mother, America, could I for a moment Ijo guilty of such selfish 'weakness. So ran my thoughts as I stood beside the window- listening to the lust clang and clat ter of the bell on the boat which bore him away. Slow It put off from the wharf, and then up to (rod wont ns fervent a prayer as ever wile breathed, tor guidance and safety. His last k‘ Ba wag still warm on my lips—his last m *i r 'l’ glns m , ln y Crtra —and soon, per hoPf.dhat V ? lCO .’ "; ,th it3 ' lovin S tones, might !’ lm , sl ‘ od > nnd the warm lips cold •nute under the icy seal of death! Yet not «vo.Mvl.n o r" t W0 ? Id 1 have recalled him, dread i’ row mc f- at heart, and a heavy awav i f to „ cre ®P IDtO my brain, driving n«ay its usually hopeful and pleasing fan tdmed i3 a W r i° ht . and murmured, as, I know what’ r""? T fio "’ith him. I take care of tbo B^R do - T shall go and pitah’ tke P oor Sl °k boys at the hoS hiy bonnet *B to a °k a moment Cvvav wfth ak r tt u ere donnod . nod I was any \vi I " ' t lmrt - ■ A - re there dor how 1 could /’ . or ai3t() >’s, who will won had just sont mv bn }'8 h i I,earted "hen X perhaps never toVn£ Bbßn i, d A \ vay to battle— d will toll °r /' W deat 'faceagain? tow uidddn /“ I‘7: 1 trusted to God. and jny good, hL%um'l lmpUlsC *? rJood deeda - 1 b'o desire m ? nim ntod solely by suffering, ntl( j er asBl stance. and relieyo n ‘ i «ht.^ink n orsayofte. What ° th6r PBOple tending"' t phj^J'*® hospital I found the at- , mtrodnoed myself.’ tl?ore > and 7 0u toemphiyn,” 2 1 ““?* * and wanfc m any way i’ ‘ an d vendor assistance ‘ d f it"! IliB prompt response, something nourish,"„ Bomo a lme , s and P ro P ar d beep them in cood'"? d tall f to them to glad.* ■ go °d spirits, we shall be very lain glad if I iKor oeromoqy b anrt°t ( olo! i b > without fut -1 saw. 0y * and Wont to the; sickest man bonding over at °ne C s^pfcfe h t o death.* be replied,..in fctoars spring to d i ull of d « B pair that I felt to the { " n S to my eyes. I sent them Bpokoio m il] . hut vouwiif" near doa th. You - ol < will not die, Unole Sara 'bae use for you yet, and in n few days you’ll be up and ready to.shouldor your musket again. Don’t you think so V , D' B eyes sparkled in their deep sockets, and a momentary flush rose to his ,palo cheeks. ‘ Oh, if I could only think so 1 But the time drags so_slpwly,. and here .1- lie. useless, help less, keeping those who could fight away to take care of no.’ ‘Oh, well, you needed a. little rest any way,’ I.said cheerfully. ‘Now I wont to do something to cure you. ‘ Yes, if it is not too much trouble, he said eagerly. ‘Not a bit; Now be easy, and I’ll soon have you feeling nicely.’ I got a bnsl.i of water, combs, brushes, sponge and soap, and came back to him. His largo dark eyes rested with childlike plea sure on my face, ns I carefully bathed his face and hands. *He had grown so feeble that ho could scarcely connect a Sentence without pausing, and lay panting on his el bow from the slighest exertion. After bath ing his face, I took the comb and straighten ed out the snarled masses of long black hair that grow thickly over his brow, I soon found that illness had made him childish, though I at first started at his childlike | bluntness. ‘•You’re mighty purty,’ ho said suddenly, and for a moment I did not know what to say, but then, I thought, ‘I may seem so to him, poor fellow,' and only smiled in roplv. ‘ What’s yoinr dime V he next asked. ‘ S —,’ I replied'. ‘You ain’t married, are you V ‘ Yes, and my.husbrind’s gone to light, as you did at Fort Donelson.’ ‘ Oh, dear,’ he said fretfully, ■" Tm so sorty, What did you get married for ? Nevermind, I’ll put a spider in his dumping when I gel well.’ M itli the Inst words, a miscbeivous light broke oyer his face, and his black eyes twinkl ed. I laughed merrily at him and he seemed to enjoy it hugely. Poor .fellow ! little ariiusem?nt he had. If ho chuld amuse him self at my expense, I would not have no ob jections. My next patient was an orphan boy, six teen years of age. Prank B. belonged to Birgo’s Sharp shooters, and a braver heart , never beat in the bosom of mortal man than that which throbbed in his. ;■ While bathing his face, I asked him what induced *’- ln eave bis home and friends in j ! 'Nebraska, tocotpe away and peril his life at i such an early , age. His reply is worth to be ; written by that of the .poble Nathaniel Hale, ; 'i’bo regretted having but f one life to off er to his country.’, He said, ‘ I joined the army because I was young and strong. I have_ but one life, and that .would be worth nothing to me if not offered to my country.’ Noble boy 1 How many more like him have fallen willing sacrifices! I’ho next day I carried a basket of apples, oranges, pies, tea, &0., to the hospital. As I went in, several of;the inen lifted their heads and nodded pleasantly. ‘ I’™ fi'ed you have'comeback,? said one, and s dfio'tßbl‘ttnrnpf c ‘‘led6blM''Bo inuoh like" borne to see a woman amongst them.’ My ‘ admirer’ with the black eyes clasped my jiaod when I offered .him an orange, and kissed it gratefully. ‘lf I live,’ said he, ‘ I’ll always pray God to bless you. If I.die,-I'll watch over you from Heaven.’ Poor fellow l I wonder, if from that Heav en to which his spirit has flown he is watch ing over me to-night as I pen these lines! Prank's blue eyes greeted me with a smile before I was near enough to speak to him. When I bent over and asked him how he felt, he answered me cheerfully, saying he hoped to be able soon to return to his regi ment. I bathed his face, gave him a cup of hot tea, with some toast and loft him sleep ing sweetly. * Those who haye visited the hospital can not conceive the wretched condition in which the men are b,taught into them. That day twenty-eight were brought from Donelson jiud .Savaniiah and such objects I never saw. xhoir faces npd hands were stiff with coal” dust, and burning wity fever. Their hair long and matted—beard uncut and full of dirt. It was # serious task to attempt rendering them conjfortable, but I did notshrink from it On the contrary, felt grieved at my inability ta serpe move than one at a time. Oh, how I longed for the power then to stir sn^ o 0 f sox, who in'that town ..passed their days in thoughtless idleness to action, if only tor an hour, to in bringing those poor suffer- e £ B to a comfortable condition. From morning till noon, I toiled faithfully, glad from my heart, and thankful'for im pulses that sent me there. 1 went home and dined, and feeling tired, wanted to. lie down and rest. But then I remembered I had promis ed to bring some fruits to the boys in the af ternoon, and I could , not feel satisfied till I had done so knowingly that 1 could not rest any time, while they lay tossing and restless with fever and pain, perhaps longing for a cooling draught tho3’ could not get. ■ It was four o’clock before I got away again and then I was really tired days merged into weeks, and it became a routine. From eight to ten or eleven, and from half past one till four, I took pleasure amongst them, «Ven while pain stirred lay heart to seo their sufferings. One by one I could see them-fading. No care nor skill could save them. They had offered their lives to our country, and she accepted the sacrifice. Poor little Frank H daily grew wea ker. Nothing could tempt him to oat, and his cough grew worse, while his faoe becnme thin,and pule. Ho never lost his joyous spir it, but always seemed hopeful, oven when too ill to rise from his berth. One afternoon I was startled on entering by the most piteous cries, and found that they came from my little favorite, generally so bravo and patient.- ‘Why, Frankie, what is the matter?’ I asked, bending over him. ‘Oh, you have come! I did wish,for you so much. Oh, I shall die, and I wanted somebody by who seemed to care for mo a little. You like me don’t you, dear Mrs. S. ■ \ ? You’ve been so kind to me. Oh' this pain 1 I can’t stand it long?’ ’ His hands grasped mine' nervously,- and every fibre of his frame quivered with pain. I saW'that the dews of death were stand ing thickly already, oh the broad, beautiful forehead over which the fair hair clustered so prettily, ond my eyes filled with te’ars Of sorrow deeper' than word? could express. I stooped to kiss him, and a’ glad cry escaped the'pOor blue lips of the dying boy. * ‘ 0h - H' 88 “>•> again, won’t you? That is like my sister. Do kiss mo onoo more I fool bettor. Oh, I wouldn’t mind to die if my sisters were hero to tell mo they loved mo. You do love me a little, don’t you ?’ ‘ Yes, n great deal, Frankie; as much as if I were your sister. Don’t you think? so? I m sure you re a good boy, and I’m sorry fo-soe you suffer so.* ' ' He drew me down towards him, and pressed his face close to my arms. I could endure no. more. The poor boy’s mute ap peal for tenderness and sympathy in his dy ing hour, far from home breathing out his young life amid strangers, unnerved me. I drew that young bright head to my bosom, and my-tcars fell fast upon his sunny curls. Did the gentle sisters he loved have one thought of the scene that was transpiring on that night, while perchance they sat and talked of him, their only petted brother, in their far off home in Nebraska ? ‘ You will stay with me to-night, won’t you?’ he pleaded again. ‘Oh, you won’t leave.me to die alone I’ ‘ No Frankie, 1111 stay with you.’ He was comforted, and became more quiet, as I clasped his hands and tried to soothe [ hjm. Gradually a purple hue overspread his face. Now his lips became whiter, and the large clear eyes grew restless. When he could no longer; speak, those eyes plead for some tokens, of endearment, and each time that I pressed a kiss upon bis forehead, a look of deep and earnest gratitude softened the suffering expression of his face. About nine o’clock ho breathed his last, and now every time 1 look at my hand, and see the little ring of mine ho wore before he died, I seem to see the parting look of his great sad eyes ere they fixed in death. How sad the task to brush back the damp looks from the cold brow, and compose the blue limbs in their last repose 1 That night I wept and prayed for myself, the sisters as I had for he was all they had. _ A few days after this another of my pa tients, one who was fast recovering, I thought, had a relapse and wa§ again con- I She’d to his .berth'. There had been a storm | that 'dashed in the;'windows', and he.goi wet. ■■ On Friday he .asked me to write some let cers to hia brother, sister, and his betrothed. I did so,-while he di'etatedt, He appeared to be well educated And'lihd A . riV.li Veih 6f mirth and sentiment pervading his nature. This I soon discovered in his, dictations, qnd was much interested, lie showed nip the minatures <sf her, friends and talked of soon returning home. Bade me say to his sister that ho was coming soon. If lie couldn’t got a furlough he would-make one, &p. Saturday found me almost blind from in humation of the eyes, and I did not get'to the hospital again until Monday morning. . Sad faces, greeted me. Matron, physicians, and nurses wore serious faces and the steward quietly placed letters, minatures, and des cription roll in my hands. I looked towards Fred’s place—it was vacant. Oh that was a sad task I had then to ■ per form 1 To sit doirfn three days after writing those pleasant hopeful letters, and tell them that the heart which dictated them was still forever 1 I wrote to the lady he would, have made hia Wife and returned heir letters, t had rather have perforated any other task on earth; The pool old father and mother, Whose bent forms were fast tottering, to the grave, the bright,, sweet-faced sister-ithe Joying, brother,t-To iall, of these J must-coo vey tidings that would Stirig the hardest heart. Yet such is the fortune (if war! ■' These are but few of the many instances of the kind which might be given to the public. Everyday, for three or four weeks, I witness ed such scones, performed such tasks as those J have named. . Since that, however, fortune has called me to the scenes of a nioro startling nature. I have seen where the conflict raged, the forms of the dead, dying, and amongst those who yet lived, such suffering as the heart could not conceive without first having wit nessed it. Forms mangled, crushed—to live and suffer for a few days, and then to die in the most horrible agony. Oh I God 1 when will it cease? When will the hand of the father fall listless, as he at-' tempts to. cleave his son to the earth, and brothers cease to regard each other ns foes'? Will peace over bo restored ? Shall wo over again be united ? Alas 1 will we ever love each other again, or give room in our hearts for other than revengeful, bitter feelings ? Ciricinnaii Commercial. Fremont's Patriotism. — Vanity Fair is so vere on Fremont. It says— With the foe most formidable and active a 1 around therm i'nas' Major General throws up niB 00nrv lirir id and comes to New York, bis °* c Uso being that the appointment of Gener al Pope ‘degrades’ him. But he doson’t re sign It is understood that ho is still a Ma-, jor General in the armyj drawing his pay the same as ever ; and it is whispered in cer tain (Quarters that another ‘ department’ will be given this man. Very good.. But let it be a department in Port Warren, for the Gen eral who,deserts his command and his conn try upon so flimsy an excuse as Fremont gives, ought to be shut Ujh la houle coun tries he would be shot-. We respectfully sug-- gest to Mr. Secretary Stanton that if it be right to keep General Stone in close confine ment all this time without lotting that officer or the public know what earthly reason there -is tor his incarceration, that the imprison ment of J. C. Fremont, who, as everybody knows, has proved a precious humbug, might not be entirely improper. We are sick of I‘remont, Ho is the worst in the business. 1 _ A coon Wokd for the Skunk. —The Ame rican Agriculturist takes up the cudgel in de fense oftho despised but seldom-kicked skunk, and gives him a good notice. Our cotempo rary says : All summer long ho roams your pastures at night, picking up bottles and grpbs, poking With his nose potato hills where worms are at work. IJo is after the grubs, not the tubers. Ho takes possession of the appartmonts of the woodchuck, who has quartered himself and family upon your clover field or garden, and makes short work with all the domestic arrangements of that unmitigated nuisance. With this White-backed sentinel around, you can raise clover in peace, ancKho young tur nips will flourish, * Your beans will not be prematurely snapped, and your garden sauce will be free from other vermin. The most careless observation of his habits shows that he lives almojjJ exclusively upon insects. While you sleep he is busy doing your work, helping to destroy your enemies. In any fair account kept with him the bal ance mast be struck in his favor. Thus we often find friends under the most unpromis ing appearances, and badly abused men are not u'ufroquontly the benefactors of society. D* Congress phased a bill doing away with regimental bands. The regimental bands will all be mustered out of service in thirty days unless they volunteer to join bri gade bands. - This will effect a saving of about five millions a year. KIT” It is said by persons having abundant chances of knowing, that at one half of the chaplains in the army are drunk the greater part pf thq time. , Is. it not a burning shame on the church and'tho'nation. PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 7, 1863. I interesting letter jrom Smfa, Gen. Cameron has afthe Russian court and had an interview, - tfith the Empe ror, The following is copied from a letter written by him to hisvbrothoi] at Lewishurg. St. Petersburg, Russia! Juno 21. I have traveled half over E/rope since leav ing home. I’ho voyages acrods the ocean—9} days—was very picnsanfr: I kept my berth three or four days, but was not at all sea sick, and the family, had very little anuov at)co. J England is most beautiful in appearance, .there are no fences, bstHi’many enclosures by hedges of green thorn', .which are delightful, especially so when covered with blossoms, scenting the, whole air with their perfume There are few farm houses, as the lands are in large tracts, but tbew are many cottages occupied by laborers. The land is generally let to farmers, who.pay rent. Some, of whom I inquired, said, they ijviid about fifteen dol lars an acre per yparjftnd all the taxes.— The farming is very Careful: no gardening that you have ever so well done. The crops are much like ours only that they Jiave more root?; and leave a much larger amount for grass. Indeed, cattle and sheep are their mam dependence: the cattle are generally Devonshire, for beef, but they vary in different kinds of land. J Ameinber ef Parliment invited me'with Jim from London to his estate, sixty miles distant, to spend. the. Sunday. His possess-' ions had been in his family five 'or six hun dred years. Part of the mansion was built five hundred years ago?"but it Ipid been oc casionally extended, though no part was less than a hundred years ftld. There wore oyer seven thousand acres in the estate, and two villages on it, with , churches and school-hous es, ajl belonging to the same proprietor. Ilia park h 0 many hundred acres in it—in his many horses of the very purest breeds—and his cattle were numbered by the hundreds. The estate is .intersected by fine roads, with gates to ptaveiit' any bus‘from coming unless by invitation. The people had lived here for generations, and seemed to be apart of the land- i have never seen such perfe'et 6rder as all was In. The birds, pheas ants, partridges, hares, rabbits, squirrels, all seemed at home, for no one dare disturb them. . I advised to defer my Visit to Scotland un til fall. , In London, I saw Loehile, the chief of the Curaeropiohs. He was very civil to me, and inyit'ed i!pe to visit him when Parli ment adjourn si He is a young man, called Donald, and lias, aft estate in England, with a larger one in Scotland. London is a great city, but Paris is much . .n, n 4r. I have.'no time fo ilescribe either, We - Qfc T Lelgium-rrthenco to Holland. Ihe people rtf these countries are remarkable for cleanliness, thrift, and frugal ity. ,■. ■. °^' nations, ai,a whole, ! saw noth, uig hke Germany, ■ Our Pennsylvania Dutch . neG .d be ashamed- of their descent*., I. passed four or five hfcUdred miles, through "dV tncts. Whitsuntide iSouauy; the cars wei'e lull ot the common, people; ft very station, 'and town and village, ;wfe .crowded with them: all were clean, . well dressed; and Yoii travel hundreds of miles without seeing I a fence, but every inch of ground is inade to produce something. The cattle are herded, as are the pigs, the goats, and geese, of which you see largo docks, guarded by old women or boys. ‘ V . •this ofty grftnd beyond,anything I saw. It is a city of vast I have no room, for description. ' ; I reached hero on the 17th. Have seen the Prince Minister, who returned my call,— CheiLmperor is now in the country, but is coming in, and I am to see him on Tuesday the 24th. Truly your Brother, A Striking Illustration. 3? • Many years ago aa ** assault and battery” came up before a magistrate in Western Ohio, in winch a lawyer named Ellis, was the de fendant's counsellor, and Elder Gilruth, a Methodist preacher,was tbeplaintifTs mostim portant witness, having by chance been pass ing when the fray occurred. Ellis fostered a spirit of revenge towards the preacher be cause he once called public attention towards him at a camp meeting, where he had been guilty of disorderly conduct, and was deter mined upon this occasion to gratify that spir it by showing up the divipo in fanatical col ors* The court was crowded and the revenge ful pettifogger was gloating in inward raplure over fine opportunity thUt wfts about to present itself for repaying tbe preacher in his own currency. Elder Gilruth was a man of athletic proportions, with the sinews of a yeo man And the stateliness and dignity of a field dmcdr, and as ho took his place upon the wit ness stand nil ojes wore turned upon him. In his simple, unostentatious manner he related the - circumstances of the affair as . they oc curred. Now came the counsel's privilege of cross-questioning; * Did 1 understand you to say, Mr. Gilruth, that you saw the defendant strike the plain tiff?' - . 1 ‘ I do not know what you have understood,' replied the witness, hut if my eyes servo me properly, I certainly did witness a mahoqvro that would warrant that description.’ ‘4-h, you saw him strike, then; will you please inform the Court how hard a blow was inflicted V ‘As nearly as I can remember,’ replied tho witness, ‘ tho blow was sufficient to knock him down.’ ‘ Hint is not an explicit answer,’ said the counsel, somewhat nonplussed by the preach er’s coolness. ‘ I wish you to explain to the Court how hard a blow was inflicted by the defendant upon the person of tho plaintiff, ns set forth in the indictment.? * Shall I answer the gentleman's question V said Gilruth, turning to the magistuatq, ‘ As you please,’ returned the justice. ‘ You wish me to give you a satisfactory demonstration of the velocity of the blow which bro t the plaintiff to the ground V ‘ I do,’said EUis. . * Welij then,’ ooptinife'd Gilruth, advancing a few steps toward the counsel, ns nearly as wy judgment serves mo, the blpwwaa about equal to that. 1 , Banie instant planting h|s enormous handful of bones directly butvyoeii the law yer s eyes, smashing his spectacles find pros trating the unlucky:' limb of law’upon the floor. A simultaneous roar of applause burst from the delighted audience as the orost-fallon attorney commenced gathering himself up from his fallen dignity, whtlo brother G., ns coolly ns if nothing had occurred regained his former position on the stand, and remain ed waiting for further interrogatories. It is not necessary to add that the witness was dismissed without further examination, and i that his exclusive testimony convicted the defendant. ' roor Ellis vowed ample vengeance, but tho writelPis not aware that ho ever obtained One moonlight night, ■when all the house .was still, Willie Nichols rose softly from his bed. Ho dressed himself quietly that he might not disturb his sister, or his little broth er Bennie, who slept with him. Through the window of the attic, room, the moonbeams shone softly, and they threw beautiful light .on Fannie’s pale face, and on Bennie’s cur ling hair. They showed Willie the seams and the cracks in the old wall, the trunk which his father had carried with him on his voyage years ago, arid the little Bible on ihe stand. Precisus. little bible I His Sabbath-school teacher had given it to him as a token of love, long before Willie had thought of ever being a runaway. Out of the window the same moonlight was falling soft ly on the old mulberry tree in' the little gar den, and making fantastic shadows ,of its leaves and branches upon the ground. It fell, too, upon the ’Squire’s white house, standing so proudly among the old stately trees, and upon the long winding rodd that led to Farmer Benson’s. Willie stood trembling and irresolute, as he gazed upon the still world oUtside'. For a moment his good angel wispered, ‘Stay, Wil lie ! Do, not leave your widowed mother and her little ones, and yoilr dear home.’ Beta whisper on the other side was fonder still ; and saying,;! can h'evot gp Ip. Farmer Ben son’s,’the boy dressed himself, tied up his few things, and his Biblo.(uUphg them. Then, with ti. last, fond look at brother and sister, lie. strife ,o\tt of the roohvan.d. down, the stairs. 1 At his mother’s door .lie paused, and.put.his hand upon the latch, but he did not venture to go in; Ilis inolher might awake, rind Wil dfc did; opt meet,her.teudur gdze, and nak liia.jpnrposei . \ - Willie's mother Was pporv Her .husband’s ship had been wrecked on a distant coast.— And he has gone down, with it.. A hard struggle had' Mrs. Niphols to procure food and fire for her little ones, .though of (her neighbors were kind,, and would-.have helped her if they could. But they were poor themselves and could give but kind wishes and a day’s work now and then, to the wid ow. Meanwhile, by various means, sewing, washing, nursing the sick, and, in fact,, eve rything that a woman’s needy hands could do—she had made both ends meet, until her three eldest children were bid enough to'help her. Robert and Mattie were learning trades and Willie was to bo bound out Vo a far mer. Smorf Camebon. The little fellow had objected to this ; but his, mother deemed it best for him, and ,tho arrangements had been completed to her own satisfaction and that of Mr. Benson. Willie Nichols could find no fault with the farmer, who was a pleasant, genial man, with a kind Word for every one; but ha longed tb go to sea. The sea with its wild, blub waves, foam crested, with its wideness and vastness, was the subject of his thoughts day and night.— Oh 1 how free,’ thought Willie, ‘must a sai lors’ life be.’ But his mother had a horror of the ocean, over since the letters came that told her of the Flying Fish. Her boys had often hoard her remarks that ‘no son other’s should be a sailor.’ Willie had sometimes spoken of his wish; but his mother had said that if be loved her he would not mention the sea in her hear i«g- . And so it was that Wiljia became a runa way. Down the stairs, through the little gar •don, but on the highway. The world, Be fore him 1 cold, desolate, bitter world, that had tempted and disappointed so many 1— Homo behind him, sweet homo,, with, its morning and evening altar of prayer, its char-* raed circle of loving ones, its recollections of a mother’s kiss. Poor little wanderer ! Ah my boy, pause before you, like him, stop out from the sweet refuge of your earthly home, into the storms find tempests of life. Willie’s home was near a sea-port town.— Beforo noon of the next day bo was on tho deck of a ship bound for the'Soutb Pacific.— When again the moon shone on the water, his native land was fading away in tho dis tance. Willie did not find a sailors’ life so free as he expected. There wore bard words and hard blows to bear. There was coarser faro than he had been used to. There was climb ing up tbe rigging when the waves were lashed by storms, and tho ship rolled at their will. Many an hour of pain and home-sick noss came to Willie, and sometimes his little hammock was wet with tears. Still, it was not so hard for him ns for many others. His prompt obedience and cheerful industry, his fearlessness and agility, made him a favorite I op hoard, and there was not a man on the vessel who would not have risked life and I limb to sfivo the little fellow bad ho been, in ( ganger; Eighteen months went by. They had touched here' and there at different ports, end now anil then they had spoken a vessel bound homeward, or perhaps bound still further away than they were themselves. One day the second mate, who was stand ing op the deck, said suddenly to the boy ; • Willie, whore did you come from ?’ ‘ Prom Lino, sir, near N .’ ‘ Did you run away V A tear gathered in Willie’s eye, and his head dropped. No need of an answer, ‘Have you a father and a mother ?’ . ‘ A|mothor at homo, but my father is dead.’ ‘ Does your mother know where you are my boy V ‘ No,’ said Willie ; ‘I wouldn’t lot her know for tho world; It would break her heart.’ ‘Ear worse to her to bo in suspense,— Twenty thousand miles from homo and your mother not know of it 1 No, .Will! tho first .vessel wo spoak ihust carry a letter to your mother, llomember, my boy 1 THE STAR FLAG OF THE FREE. BY GEORGE T. MORRIS, “wo 0 ” Un ir,T 7 “ , ;; 1 T f o " v “ r—oNl: nnJ insopara “s>-JwE ■ United wo atund—dividud wo This is the pride of Liberty, “ Eternal vigilance and care,” Sustain the Star-flag of the free, Our Union represented there. 1 No traitor shall, with recent hand, « Remove it from its place on high— The symbol of our native land, Which might the world in arms defy ! Oh ye, who cherish Liberty, And every hope that onhor waits, Preserve for your posterity The perfect Union of the States. The Stars that fluttered to the breeze, ' Wore clustered there at Freedom’s call, Stern Fate, foreshadowed all pf these, If sundered, would to ruin fall I Then read, ye sons of Liberty, ~ (And mark the homely proyerb well) Words that denote your destiny, Should States this solemn truth repel,' In Union, there is strength and peace, In separation, endless war— Guard, bravely guard till times shall cease. Our country’s free-born Flag of Stars. 4 STORY FOB CEILDREN. jy*LLIE, THE RUNAWAY Willie promised, and began, in his leisure moments, a letter. A few days afterward they were chasing a whale. Thiqjjj very dangerous sport, for the huge creature when wounded, strikes deadly blows with his tail, and often capsizes boats, or breaks them The boat which held Willie and four or five of the sailors had the bottom knocked out of it by a blow of tho monster’s tail. Pale, and dreadfully bruised, the boy was lifted up the ship’s side, and laid in Ins hammock. . ~ ~,,^*l?^.-P'Sht the mate watched by him tiU twelve o’clock. Ho ■ had fallen in , to. Rt gentle sleep, saying ho would bo all right m the morning, Bidding two of tho men to watch if he wanted anything, the kind mate, who had always been his friend, might hmiselfseek repose. , ; . Morning came. In its first gray light the mate returned to Willie’s bed. The watch prs.ovcrcorae by weariness, had fallen asleep. Willie, how do you feel V But Willie did nofcsnsrt er, *IIe must be asleep/ said bis .friend, sur prised that no reply was given. lie laid his land on the boy’s forehead. It was.cold as jnarblc." lie lifted the little hand. It fell pulseless and cold from his grasp. Willie was dead. ~ Alone, all alone in the drear dead of night, ■without a mothers’ soft caress, or a sister’s loving whisper,-the little runaway boy had been called 'to die—alone in the swinging ship, on the wide, wide sea. And, next day, as the sailors stood around in a solemn, silent circle, they brought the little white form om deck. 'lb was sewed up in ' the hammock, with only the face left uncovered, that ail might see, for the last time, the heajitiful fea tures and the brown, wavy hair. The cap-, tain read the burial service; and then the canvass was sewed up, the .weight put in at .the feet, that it might sink more quickly to its ocean grave, and the body ofAYillie Nich ols was let down .into the waves; And, as the ship went faster and faster on' its way, ' the lb tie sailor-boy’s form sank deeper to the bottom of the soa,'th'erh fq rest hntil the res- 1 urreolion. ■- ... .; ’ .1 The unfinished letter, .and a. curl of the brown hair, were pliced in Willie’s Bible, and sent home to his mother. But she had gone before; and we can but hope that little Willie had been led to ttipent' hud believe in Jesus. ... ~[■■ I heard the, story of little Willie Nichols froni the gentleman who, Jofirs befol-o, had sent the account of his death to the old home on Line, —Banner of the Covenant. :; ~ Win" Saw is ■ HeawSpul. —From time mmemorial it Ims been known-that without salt, men would miserably perish; and,among horrible punishments, entailing certain death that ot feeding, culprits on saltloss food, is said to haVh prevailed in barbarous times.— Maggots and corruption are spoken of by an ciout writers as the depressing symptoms .which saltlees food engenders; but heanoient or unchemical modern; could explain bow.sueli ; sufferings arose. Now-we know Why the an imal-craves salt; why it suffers discomfort, and why it.ultimately falls into disease if salt is for a time withheld. Upward of half the saline matter of the blood (57 per cent) con sists of common salt; and as this is partly i .discharged every day through the skin and kidneys, the necessity of continued supplies of it to the healthy body, becomes sufficiently obvious. l The bile, also,-contains soda as a special and.indispensable constituent, and so ido all;-the cartilages of the body. • Stint the supply of salt, therefore,, and neither, will the bile be able properly to assist the digestion, nor the cartileges to bo built up again as far as they naturally -.waste, Mosquitoes.—A piece of.fresh meat placed near the bed is said to bean offeotual'prevon tatiye to the annoyance of mosquitoes. Pen nyroyal has been found effectual in driving them , away, the scent of that-lierb being un pleasant to them. Camphorated spirits ap plied to the face and hands will prove a good preventative, but if bitten by them, aromatic vinegar is the best antidote. A wot cloth projected with force against the spot where the mosquitoo is sitting will effectually destroy him, Mosquitoes are very.plentiful j list now,' and tho above hint may prove valuable; O” Senator Hjne, of Kansas, has received authority from the President and Secretary of War to recruit troops Under the late laws lassed by Congress; and is now oh his way to Kansas, where he will issue a public order, calling on all loyal men, irrespective of color, to join his army. lie expects to have one white and two black regiments in the field in three weeks* , * Paper Money. —lt is estimated that, when the paper money schemes adopted by Con gress at its late session are carried into effect, the paper currency of the country will amount to tho enormous sum of $560,000,000, being an increase of $400,000,000 in tho last fow months. Cato, being seriously treated by a low and vicious fellow, said to him, “A contest between us is very unequal, for thou oanst bear ill langdago with ease and return it with pleasure; and to nio it is unusual-to hear, and disagreeable to spbak it;’’ CT" A fellotf describing his wife, to whom he had been recently' married, to an absent friend, said, “She has a small mouth, a plumb, pretty face, lively eyes, and a temper —Whew 1 it’s as explosive da gun cotton 1" O’ To pardon those absurdities in our selves which wo cannot suffer in others, is neither bettor nor worse than to' bo more wil ling to be foolish to ourselves than to have others so. H®, If men were bettor, women would be. The errors of the latter must certainly lie at tho doors of the former, whether the world liovosso or not. 1 O’Wo hope tho United States troops will closely scrutinize every nigger apparent pass ing through their lines, to see that he isn’t Floyd or Pillow in disguise. B@"The two most prooious things inclosed in hoops nrp girls and kegs of powder—dan ger of blowing up from both—keep tho sparks away from them. - An unjust acquisition is like a barbed arrow,' which must bo drawn backward'with horrible anguish, or else will bo your de struction. . tCT* A wag says of a woman : “To her virtues wo give love; to her beauty, our ad miration ; to her hoops, tho whole sidewalk.’! , O' Absence lessons small passions and in creases'groat ones; as the wind extinguishes , tho taper and kindle tho burning dwelling; , Thrilling Discovery. ' ; The following’wonderful story is'told by the London correspondent to the Dublin Eve ning Mail; 1u .. ■ , This is the age of discoveries, and one of such a startling nature has just been made in an English county tbat.it seems out Of place in the reign .of sober fact, and to belong purely to the atmosphere of the throe volume, novel. Hero are the circumstances—the names for the moment I am not at liberty to indicate: ~ „l -The Earl of married not long- ago,- and brought his bride.home to one of the old family mansions which members of the En glish aristocracy regarded with, an-nffeotion amounting to veneration. The 'ladyi■'howev er, being more continental in her tastes, after, a short residence in the apartments appropri ated to her use, expressed a wish to have a. boudoir in the vicinity of her bed room.. The. noble Eafl would gladly have complicd witli the request, but, upon examination, it"was found that rooms, as sometimes happens in atitique buildings, were so’awkwardly tributed that by no conceivable plan'of rear rangement could the desired boudoir be fitted in. i hereupon it became necessary to invoke protessional assistance, and an eminent'ar chitect Was summoned from London. . He ex amined the house narrowly, and-said. there seemed to be nothing for itbut to build, tholigli at the same time he could not resist the im pression- that there must be an undiscovered room .somewhere in. that wing of themansipn; The noble-old Earl laughed at the,idea; .the eldest servants and retainers of the ■ family were questioned and declared that they nev er heard even a rumor of its existence. .: The: ordinary methods of tapping, &6./ ivjere- re** sorted to, ,but without effect.. Still the archi.-- tect retained his cotfviotions and declared himself ready to stake his professional ropd tntion on the result', '.. ■ ..■/■b 6 Earl lit last consented to.the wallsbeing ■bored, and, when the opening had been made. • not only, the room was found, but a sight pre sented itself which almost defeats attempts at' description. The apartment was fitted up in the richest and most luxuriant style of 150 years ago. A quantity of lady’s apparel lay about the room, jewels were scattered on the dressing table, and, but for the. faded aspect, which everything WOre, the'chamber might, have been tenanted half an hour previously.- On approaching, the bed. the most curious, sight of all was seen, and this it is which .af fords the only clue to the mystery. ThecoucK had a skeleton of.a fepaale,'and on the floor underneath the bed, half In, half out, lay all other skeleton that of a man, presenting evi dent tracesjof .violence, arid proving that, be foro ho expired.in t.hat positipri, hb must have' received soriie dreddful injury.. , , „ s f • The secret connected with this tale of blood, haa been well kept, for,pot -merely had..(ill tradition of the scene faded away, but eveit... the existence 6fi|he room itself.was forgottetib TJhe survivors, probably walled up the apart, ment at the time, and its.contents have bo oil hermaUcallyaealcd .up till the' presbntiiay,-- -.' when .aceprding-to, the best calculations,- after! the lapse of a century arid ii half, daylight had accidently penetrated into this chamber, of horrors, w'hich to tho surprise of all concerned ' has been discovered in one of the noblest mansions in ihe.oounty of ■ ■ ... , : . [CT* The Administration finds time, .in thq mid st; of the .war, to look out for its political: 1 interests. We notice a list of twelve new. ■ Republican Postmasters in different parts of- Now York, '. : > ’ KT* A northern editor predicts tliat .“wooi will be king.” Prentice wants, to knot* whether he means, wool on the back of a sheep or wool on the head of a negro.- ■ ■■■:■■ CSr-Pt is reported that five thousand, con trabftnds havo reached tile Ooverninent quar ters In Washington, aha that from twenty to thirty novy come daily; SSp Gea: Henry A. Wise says bo Uli “more sons to be saorifioed." But they have a fathof v-’ho will continue to take precious' carenottu.be sacrificed. ' ■ . 'fho worst lijfen iu this couritry tire the editors of the New, York city dailies. W« judge so from what each one says of all tiia rest.-- . . ■ i '■ v. It has at long last been. found out. what the. black flag.was, seen by oifr Soldiers at Port Donelson. It was Floyd’s coattail as be left for Nashville. . . , i . : d7”When Breckinridge was first accused of treason, he asked a suspension of Public Opinion. Now Public Opinion asks a Sus pension of him... ■ . , Keep. out of bad company,, for- the chance is, when his Satanic Majesty fires in to a flock- he will be sure to hit somebody. ASP 1 Christianity is both a form and a pow er; the form, however, is valuable only as it pxpresses aud cultivates the power: ■ ‘ " BSL. Humphrey Marshall’s headquarters,, lat we hear so mdclf about,- are a great deal ic smallest quarters he has got. ■ 0“ THe. rewards of villains are various : some of thorn are hung, others cropped and branded—others elected to.office.— ■ O’ Idleness, timidity, or shame, may keep’ us within the bounds of duty; and virtue run’ 'away with tho honor of it. > . , ■ , O- Tho farmer 1 is d conqueror- who wins victories upon important fields—at the point of tho plough-share. . , SSL. The notions of men are like the index Of a hook; they point out what is most ro juarkahtO in them. . SZr" Hoad not the writings of an egotist, if you would not come under the influence of the evil I. 3m . £7* She that marries because he is a -Mod ‘match,’ must not bo surprised if he Is a ‘Lu cifer.’ O' Milliners’ bills are the fax which the male has to pay for the beauty of the fea- 0“ Crinoline' has risen suddenly to a very” high point, in consequence of the late gale?.' _ B©»AVhy is a schooLmistress lik« the ia<- t/7 llecttuso she forms classes into lasses'.' ' Whenyil l Floyd understand hid true position ? Whon he gets th,e haqg’of it, , O* Southern blood did’nt fan at florin lh but tho Southern'bloods 4idi - . * B®. The llobel Cobfcd' no w so sooh to perish, is utterly ; ;O^^ 1 . sorrow loads to prayer, blit itvgwtfnato RTicf zanders devotion. UO. i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers