VOL.- 51. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. fOVLIBIXKD JpfEIIY TITURBDAT MOUNIN<J c DY JO HIS B. BRATTON. T E KM S Btm#omr' rloW * — '“Two D'dlara if paid within tiho »»ar; and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid' Jrlthinr.be year. Tbcao terms will bo rigidly ad hered to in every . instance. No subscription dis continued until all arrerragos are paid unloss at the option of tho Editor. AnvßivrißKjHENTS —Accmnpnpicdby the cash, and sot exceeding one square, will hd inserted throe times for $1.50, find twoufy-ftvoj-jconts for each additional insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion. JoB-PaiUTitfO— Such «s Hand-bills, Posting-Mils Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, Ac. Ac., executed with ecuracy and at the shortest notice. ‘ THE CARRIER'S ANNUAL ADDRESS TO THE PATRONS OF THE AMERICAN "VOLUNTEER. It must to every thinking mind be clear *Tlmt tirien in office and of high degree. Should address.their Patrons overyyoar Upon what has been and what should bo. This ancient custom both in Church and State, Officials think it proper to obey ; IVwith their Constituents it has weight, And does in almost every instance pay. In obedience M this honored law, Our '• message” now wo, condescend to give ; Kefemng you to some things that wo saw, Daring the year that lost night Co'aaM to live. You know that men in authority, like me, And with unblemished character , like mine, Have ample opportunity to see The sins to which some men. their heurta re sign. To point out these sins in ft\l thciV blackest hue, • As last year they prevail'd within our town, Is the object of my, message now to you. la hope to reach both gentleman and clown. One.greafcsin that cried aloud to God last year, Was that of drinking, both by old and young. Some look as though they lived uu huger Beer, And-drank it hourly from the barrel’s bung. Svollen and ragged they roamed the street, Infamovvv for thmr revelries at-night; Without an honor’d friend from them to greet. Unlov’d and loathsome to tho heart and sight. Their wives and children pine, away atbomo, In suffering which .none hut God can tell, While they With rowdies'through dark alleys roam . Downward to hopeless infamy and hell I With'loss of self-respect and all that's dear, Shameless and lawless, on and down they go, Swagger ng and reeling in their career- Of present misery and future wo ! You know them, as along the streets they rwtu, ' By their .uncamVd hair and ragged, filthy clothes ; know them by their lonely cabin-homo, by their children's wants and cries and wo ! You And You know tliom.by their vulgar talk and leer, Their low impertinence and rowdy deeds ; You,know them by their'filthy breath, when near/ 1 . * , And by the nuisance wh»oh their presence breeds. Ca*t out by night from hell-holes vile ns they, iKhfln their last coin is spent £or“rotgut gro ,ir ,” In beastly, stupid drunkedness they lay. As well-matched companions with the hog. Young man, dash from thy lips that spark- ling cup 1 YVo warn thoo, *• touch not, taste not, handle hoi,"** . , best you the same eternal wo shall sup, That fall like Heaven’s curses ou the sot I bat the pitiless drunkard in your way Now turn thee from his path of.sin and shame, And see that on this happy. New Year s Da.v, Your hands and lips the damning bowl dis claim I Other sins, as swearing, gambling, lying. Sabbath breaking, tale-bearing,, and cheating, Others both in selling ao.d in buying in calking, working, wearing, and eating, Have been prevalent throughout the past And cryout against tho guilty ones to God, YvU o’er our sinful, wretched land we h®a f The voice of wb boueath His scourging rod I If parents would their duties well perform, Anti rule their offspring in a proper way > K'luouting the heart when in its warm* We*d geo no rowdies in, Carlisle to-day» Hut ohildren.nbw-a-days do as they please, 1 And unrestrained, they into ruin run ; [While their patents contemplate the scene at I • ease, I And think their folly but a little fun. Through this neglect our is now besot [Hy boys most reckless in their words and r ways, insulting every one by whom they’re met, With their miaokievous tricks and rowdy plays. Wt never enter on our mission here, |lo serve the people with their weekly papers, lazy, lounging boys must interfere . rS their malioious taunts and tricks ana I capers. 0 do not now complain without a cause ; hope a better day may come for all, 'hen the enforcement of oor injured laws f a y all the mischief in Carlisle forestall. Pytask ig ended, and my feeble pm I la y aside, in hope that you will pay L i up n Tioenij/'fide cents', or at least, Ten, pr my bumble service on this New-Year’s I day. Respectfully, THE CARRIER. Mmllamous. 1 CHAPTER FOR WIVES. ‘Well/ said I. one fine morning last wools, * I have the prospect of a leisure ailernoon— a somewhat unusual thing with me—and, all being well, I will do a little needful shopping; call and pass an hour with my old friend Mrs, Ashburton, whom, on account of the distance, I have neglected of late, and then drop in and take u friendly cup of tea with my niece, Clara iVhltford.' Having completed my household arrange ments, I accordingly sot out after an early dinner, and the shoppingdone, made my first call. Mrs. Ashhurtons’a warm welcome pleas ing talk and cheerful fireside would have proved strong temptations to induce me to accept her invitation to stay for the evening, had I not felt anxious to see my niece, whose residence was much nearer my own. On arriving at Clara's door, I was not a little surprised to see no light in the front part of the house* *I am afraid they are not at homo/ thought I, with a regretful mental glance backward to the pretty home picture I had just left. But I was mistaken. A servant came,in answer to my Wring at the door bell; and ushered mo into the dining room, lit the gas, and then went to summon her mistress. 1 had ample time to look about me before Clara made her appearance, and could not, help admiring the perfect order hnd good taste winch prevailed in'the apartment and its furniture. I was the more pleased to notice this as my niece, when married, did not promise to become very notable as a house wife. I was begginning to tire of waitiip.g*—my brisk walk over, I felt chilly in the tireless room—when Clara' entered, fastening a little article of dress evidently just assumed. Her greeting was most cordial, and yet there was it shade of regret, in her tone, when our first salutations over, she said: 4 Why* my dear aunt you did not let me know you \fero com ing. and I should have been better prepared to receive yon.’ • * Surely, Clara,' I replied, ‘no preporation is needed before you can bestow a cup of ten. on eo near a relative as l am. Fray do not make »»»y friendly call into a ceremonious visit, or I shall he tempted to run away again m place of waiting till after lea, and begging Mr. Whitford's escort home.' ‘ Fray, dear nUnt, do not think of such a thing. X-will light this fire in a moment, and the room will bo warm and comfortable.' .. So say ing, Clara was about applying a light between the burs of the graft, when I stop ped her. , 4 You must have a fire somewhere, my dear,' ■I said, 4 and where you were sitting when I arrived, will, lam au,re» suit me best. If-I am to disturb any of your arrangements I will leave you forthwith.' 4 Then, if so, aunt, you will have to excuse my taking you into my nursery,’ 4 Anywhere to a warm fireside, Clara, but is Whitford froth home?’ , . 4 No, aunt, bo is here,' replied my heice, her color rising ns she spoke. Laughingly congratulated her on her bus band’s liking for the company of her first born; but, perceiving no evidence of pleas ure on her eountonuoe, I asked her if the ba by was well. . ; 4 Oh, yes, quite eo, thank you, aunt. To any tlio truth, it was my doing that we are in the nursery co-night, and Frederick is not too well ’ pleased about it, but it saves so much trouble, and the other rooms have just been cleaned and put in order- But do not say a word,' she added as she opened the nursery door My nephew advanced apd sheok me warm ly by the hand, and. then, turning to Clara, said, * I hope, mv dear, you do not intend to make your aunt a nursery guest. It you do, I shall not wonder if her visits become still more rare. ; I hastened to assure him that I had been brought'there at. my own request, and begged no difference might be mode; but quietly ringing the bell, he desired the seryant to light the dining room fire, and bring word when it was well burnt. . Clara bit her lip, and looked red and’, uncomfortable,, while I, feeling still more’so occupied myself in ad miring the baby. I could, howevor, distin guish easily enough, two or three little arti cles which convinced me that a.tea equipage, had just been removed; and certainly this Was not What I should have expected to see at Clara’s home, knowing the comfortable and even affluent income of her husband. I felt sorry that my unceremonious visit should have produced such an alteration in the ar rangements; fori could tell by the produc tion of sundry keys, etc., that many articles not in common use wore to be brought out and the evening meal deferred on mv account. Besides, I felt grieved at* Mr. AVhitford'a ill concealed vexation, not displayed towards me, but his wife. At length we were summoned to the din ingroom ; and truly a wonderful change had been effected there, A bright fire illumed every corner, an elegant ton equipage was on the table; in short, everything looked—na I bad hupod at first to find it—in accordance with the position of its owners.* Moreover, the pleosant aspect of affairs banished the clouds from so agree ably did the time pass, that I quite regretted When obliged to bid my niece ‘ good night.’ ‘Good night, dear aunt,’ said Clara, kiss ing me affectionately, ‘do come again, but do lot me know when to expect yon.’ ‘ And then/ added Mr, Whitford after the door was closed, ‘ everything will bo ready ; the dining-room tiro will be lighted before your arrival. Dear aunt, what do you think of Clara’s now notions of domestic economy ? •When wo wore first married she was rather ignorant of household matters ; —now we are so exceedingly orderly and caretul that eve rything is too good to use. The drawing room first became so; then underwent a thorough renovation, and the nursery resorted to for temporary conveni ence during the repairs, has become our reg ular abode, tho others only being on state oc casions, probablyonr next remove will be in to the kitchen. I go into other houses and find that their masters can introduce a friend at any time with the certainty of causing no embarrassment. In my home, on the contra ry, the call of relatives even, produces quite a revolution ; for plate, china, in fact every thing presentable, is laid up in lavender like the rooms. I wish you would say something to Clara on the subject, as I know you pos sess great influence in that quarter. - 1 Have you named the matter* Frederick? I asked. ; ‘Oh, yes, a thousand timer, I think; but I cannot effect any change. I trust yon will bo more successful.’ ■ • I will try, at any rate/ said I, as 1 took leave of'mynopbew-in-lavr. Having thought over the matter, I arrang ed mv plan of operation, I decided it would be bettor to try the effect of an opposite pic ture on Clara's mind, before giving utterance “OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIO lII—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY.” in any remonstrance, for I well knew that young housewives do not generally relish the pointed interruption of their olders. I there fore called on Clara—haring previously giv en her due notice of my intention—to accom pany tno in a long ramble ; and I contrived to be near Mrs. Ashburton's just as tea-time ■was approaching, and wo were thoroughly tired. • Clara,’ said I, ‘ what ie to prevent our ob taining rest and refreshment? I can insure you both, and besides, you are a stranger to Mrs. Ashburton.” V’PT ‘Oh, dear aunt, I could not think of such a thing; w ; o should be sure to cause incon venience.” “ You shall judge for yourself, Clara,” I answered ; ‘ and if you think ,o half an hour hence, wo will journey homeward.” The moment we were admitted, I frankly told my friend that I hud come expressly to claim her oft-tendered hospitality, for my niece and self, as we were tired but still had a long walk before us. 1 How glad I am my house lay in your route]' replied she. ‘ Toi is just coming in, and my husband will be here directly.' In a few moments he arrived, and we were all seated, prepared to join in the evening meal.- ; I noticed Clara’s glances at the perfect or* der which surrounded us, and the elegant but simple preparations for tho repast. ’ Be sides these, it was impossible not to see the thorough comfort diffused around us. * My niece,' said I, to Mrs. Ashburton, was afraid of causing you inconvenience by coming unawares, and taking two places at your tea-table by storm.' A cheery laugh from Mr. Ashburton, and a bright from his wife followed' my words. * Mrs. Whitford,' said the gentleman, * I am the moat fortunate fellow in the world, for nothing ever causes my wife inconyoni etlce, you understand me, I dare say —I mean none of;those domestic invasions which are usually expected to cause a bustle. She has a peculiar theory of her own, which she most thoroughly reduces to practice, consequently we are always able to welcome a friend, how ever unexpected he may be.' / Clara blushed, and stammered a few words in reply ; and perceiving her contusion,*! changed the conversation. On cur way homo, after spending a delight ful evening, my niece was unusually silent; but at length she asked if I could tell hei what theory Mr. Ashburton alluded to when ho said Hero she hesitated. 4 1 understand you, Clara,' I answered, ‘and I can explain it in a very few words. Mrs. Ashburton says that being sure of the daily presence of one guest at her table whom she wishes to honor above all others, she always prepares for that one, and is of course ready for any visitor, and at any time.' ‘ But I saw no guests beside ourselves, aunt.” 4 Did you not ? And yet the person I al lude to was there.' 4 Where? whom do you mean? You are jesting.' * Indeed, my dear Clara, I am not. The one whom Mrs. Ashburton considers worthy of an honor is her husband. She says, and I think justly, that she should deem her mar riage vow but illy kept if she made all attrac tive in the eye of a stranger, and grudge do ing so for him whom she has promised to love, honor and obey—her husband, and the father of her children.' Clara did not speak in reply ; but when we parted,..the moistened cheek that touched mine convinced mo that the lesson was taken home ; and I have no doubt that when ! next visit my niece, I shall find her opinion is changed as regards the guest most deserving ofhoaqr. A Soldier's Story. —During the Mexican war* the veteran General Riley, since deceas ed, was ordered to lead the storming parly at Cerro Gordo. During the war of 1 SI2-181 -1, General Riley had been shot in the throat, and consequently had a peculiarly strange intonation. lie was ordered to storin one of the batteries of Cerro Gordo, and when bis command was mustered was thus addressed by his second in command : General, I do not think we can take this work.” _ Thiuk I By—you are not paid for think ing.” "But sir,” said Colonel 8., “ wre can’t take it” « Can't take it—you have got to take it,” The old General put his hand to Ilia belt, and, pulling out a paper said : Here, thir, Uh General Scott's, orders in black and white to take the thing.” And they did take it. Don't Lire Ilia Looks.— A sheriff was once naked to execute a writ again a. Quaker. On arriving at biff house, he saw, the Quakers wife, who, in reply to the inquiry whether her husband was at home, said- ho waa ; at the same time she requested him to be aeated, and her husband would speedily seo|him. The officer waited patiently for some time, when the fair Quakeress Coming into the room, he reminded her of her promise that he might see her husband. _ “ Nay, friend, I promised that he would see thee. lie has seen thee t Ho did not like thy looks, therefore ho avoided thee, and hath departed from the house by another path." Eight For Tim Stanoard. —Among the many incidents of bravery and personal dar ing exhibited in storming the enemy’s in trenehmonts at Petersburg, the capture of a Rebel battle-flag by a private in the Third New York Regiment, in General Smith’s corps, deserves especial mention. While the contest was at its height, and the tide of bat tle swaying to and fro, he espied the flag, homo by a rebel Captain, who picked it up as its foiraer bearer fell at hie side. The gallant New Yorker singled him out for per sonal encounter, and, after a hard hand to hand fight, succeeded in capturing the flag and its bearer, and emerged Rom the dust and suioko of the conflict victoriously, hear ing the banner and driving the Captain be fore him. B®* An old gentleman named Lister, aged 55, recently sued, in n London court an an cient spinster named Wray, aged 66. for da mages to his heart, caused by a breach of promise of marriage. Old 55 had been jilted bv Miss 06, after all the usual procurations had been made for the wedding, and even a license taken nut and a clergyman engaged. The jury found a verdict for the plaintiff and one farthing damages. (£/” A venerable lafly in her hundreth year lost her daughter, WhoSittained the good old age of eighty. The mother’s grief was great, and to n friend who came,,to condole with her eh* remarked, •• Oh, dear 1 I knew I should ueV'or bo ablo 1 to raiso* that child * ' CARLISLE, PA,, THURSDAY, JANUARY 5,1865. FAREV.'BIi] Pii’l). nv joiin acimoKEit, Esqri Can I any good-bye forever? Can I every fond tie'sever, Dear old Pipe ? Tos, although full long I’ve smoked thooj And between my lips oft poked thco, Now I find sn long I*vo used thoo,- That you really have ahdacd me, • . Moan old Pipe 1 When 1 think bow long together, Through the hot and wintry weather, Poor old : Pipo I Over, hill, and plain, and water, We haie stuck like brink and mortar; Then I feel ’tis hard to leave thee,. And to part I know will grieve mo. Black old Pipe! Bat the maidens fair don't like you, Though X brush you up and wipe you. Dear old Pipe! And I think of lovely Sairey, Who last night looked like a fairy; Then I think of how I kissed her, Kissed so much I raised a blister; > Eh, old Pipe I And wlulo gentle u I did smack her," Said she tasted f f bad torbneker 1" 0, you Pipe I Now she swears sho’ll never love mo, If I in the fire don't shove thco; Qood-byo, Pino ! Now the flamos around you whirling, Show the last smoko from you curling j Show your ashes sadly lying, Now thoy fade, and now Ihcy’ro dying; Farewell, Pipe! Tp.easurt “Bats”— A Dcanfijnl Develop-. meni.—~ Rather a rich development has been made in the Post office Department latterly, of which I have aeon no account except a vague hint in the Chronicle, though it in known generally about iown. The facts in the case, which I have obtained from the moat authentic sources, are ns follows ; Grun Adams, late Auditor r»f, the Post Office De partment, and John F. Sharretts; bis chief clerk, had been in the habit of selling the waste paper of the departments, which-neon* mulates very rapidly, to dealers, and putting the money in their own pookpfs. During three years thoy have sold over §5.000 worth, • trot one dime of which have they ever paid into the Treasury. ;They- even went, farther. They cut down (lie wages of the laborer who had boon employed to prepare the paper for soiling, from §4O a month' to §5O a quarter. They said that’in the present lelicllion, when the country was reeling mulct* such a terri ble load of.expense ami debt,-it was the duty* of every public officer to s..vo what he could to the Government, ami make all the sacri fice possible to save his bleeding country.— They,- therefore, with great reluctance, chock ed the poor devil's wages twenty dollars a quarter, and nvmrniuily put the samo in their pockets/ They then divided their ill gotten gains and left not. a word nor a scratch of a pen in tho office to indicate to Uncle Sam that-they were grateful to him for this special mark of his favor. Tho oth er day this little affair was disc ivcrod in the regular course of business by Mr. Sells, the new Auditor, Mr. Sharrettn being taxed with, having the money, acknowledged the fact and paid over “ His half" uf'tlie monev, to gether with writtert receipts of Mr. Adams for an equal amount. What do you sup} «se was the explanation which these simple in nocents gave (orfathei' S’lmrre’tts, for Adams is cotton agent at Nashville) for this singu lar transaction ? They .did.net know what to do with the money I I think this exceeds in impudence even the Paddy’s excuse for not returning the kettle. . Any foM could have told them'what not to do with it, and that is steal it. I know,but little of Adams and Sbarretta, but one thing was very suspicious. Thoy were eternally coming tho heavy vir tuous, and parading their integrity and en ergy before the eyes of mrn.. Slmrrotts was a descendant from the old regime, and a re cent convert fo the new doctrine.— Wash, Cor . Chicago Tribune. Sinoui.au Disappearance of a Bridegroom upon the Marriage Night. —A singular .dis appearance of a bridegroom upon the nisdit of marriage baa just taken place in this vicin ity. Several months since an intelligent and skillful young man emigrated to this country from England and proceeded to Lawrence (Mass.) where he obtained employment in the machine shop of that city. A number of his relatives and friends of the same nation ality were settled hear him, and in time ho engaged in marriage the daughter of one of his friends, an estimable young lady, who was congratulated upon having secured as a life partner a man of so many good qualities. The marriage day arrived (it was only a few days since) and the knot was duly tied in presence of the friends of both parties. In the evening there was a social gathoring'and supper, at which the bridegroom took part, apparently in the best of spirits. At about riiidhight he went out, as oil supposed to re turn immodiatdly7but he never came haok. The feelings of the bride mav be imagined as davs passed without any intelligence of the missing man. He;was perfectly steady in his habits, his friends say, was rtpparantly attached to his young wife, and no motive could be assigned for hie singular conduct. At length, on the I2th inst., a letter was re ceived from him, dated at Boston. It was written upon a half sheet of paper, Ifaa di rected to his wife, and stated that he left her because he was unworthy of her, and that before she received the letter he should be no more. This is the last that has been heard from him, and it is feared that he has carried out his suicidal design. His daguer reotype represents a person of mild and plena ant countenance, who, one would suppose, would hardly cause a woman to whom he professed great attachment such terrible men tal suffering, without some overpowering motive, which at present is not suspected,Jor it may be the case of sudden insanity. Boston Traveller,' October 12th. jjg* “I hope you will, he able to support mo,” said a young lady to liar intended, while walking out onp evening, during a slippery state of the sidewalk. . ‘‘Why, yo-yes,” said the hesitating swaiff "with some little assistance from your father.’ 0* A country editor, speaking of Spirit ualism. says:—“Wo don’t believe in any medium except the.oirculating medium ; and that has betfune. so scarce that our belief in it is shaking.” ■ O' In some towns in New York the' taxes are ten per cent. Lillie Girls./ The home peema incomplete in which there are no little girls to stand'in that void in tho domestic circle which boys can never fill, and draw all hearts within tho magic circle by tho nameless charm of their presence. There is something about little girls that is espeo ially loveable, (Prentice,, tho wag, remarks that * it grows on them, too, as they got big ger/) even their willful, naughty ways seem utterly void of evil, when they are so soon followed by the sweet penitencflfcthat over flows in such gracious boys are great, noble fellows—generous, loving and lull of high impulses—but they are noisy Ami demonstrative; and dearly as you love them, you are glad their place is out of doors. But the little threads of speech that flow from tho innocent Ups of tho angels of the house-hold, twine themselves around the heart, never to rust or breik, nob even when the dear little faces are hid forev er among the daisies in ihf» c)ui r oh yard, as, alas 1 ho many fond hearts know* Dot Uttlp girls must grow up to ho women, and there are long, shining tracks from the half-latched door of childhood, till the girl blooms into mature and radiant womanhood. There are the brothers who. always lower their yoiues when thoy’talk to their sister, and tell of the sportd in which she takes al most am much' interest as they do, while in turn she ihotruets them in nil the minor de tails of homo life, of which thoy would grow up ignorant if not for her. And what a shield she is upon the dawning manhood wherein so many temptations lie. Always her sweet presence to guard and inspire them, a check upon profanity, a Uying ser mon on immorality. She has scarcely any idea of tho extent of her influence. She doe# not know how. far, how very far, for time and eternity, her own pure and guiloleatf example goes; how it will radiate into other homes where a sister’s memory will bo the conse crated ground of tho past, Cherish, then, the little girls, dimpled dar hhgs, who.tear their aprons, and out the ta ble sloths, and eat the sugar, and break into the preserves, and are themselves the sugar and. salt of life I Let them dretar rfnd undress their doll-babies to their hearts’ content, and don’t tell them 44 Tom Thumb” and ‘‘Red Riding Hood” and “Jack and the Beanstalk” are all fictions, but lob them alone till they, find it out, which they will all too soon nmidtt’the cold and chilling realities of later years. Answer all the funny. Questions they ask—if you arc able to do so—and don’t make fun of their baby theology, which after all is a fair sample of the inquiries of the finite into, the purposes of .the infinite. Yes, let. the little fairies rollick on, with a train of sunshine following in the Wake'of their bob bing heads which daily tind hourly have ma ny hard problems to solve. Humor their in nocent little fancies, help them in their .trou bles, kiss the tears away from their eyes, and as their fair arms entwine around your nocks, you cannot bub repeat the prayer:— ** God bless the little girls !” How Louis Napoleon is Altering Paris. —A letter writer, in speaking of tho exten sive improvements . now going on in Paris, under the influence of the government, says: There are at this moment several acres of ground completely deserted of houses, in one ol the most densely inhabited parts of Paris near Havre railway station, in the heart of the town. Everything has been pulled dmfn to make room for the new Boulevard Hauas man, so called after the Perfect of Paris, and other new and splendid lines of thorough fares. To look at the bilge gap loft and tlio havoc made ojc would suppose that a battery of cannon had been playing upon the spot Tor twenty-four .hours. On'the north side of Paris a small mountain is being leveled down and carted away to till up a valley on the south side, where a space of more than a mile square is preparing for now building sites, and will form an entirely new quarter of the capital. Besides the stupendous re pairs, or rather restorations of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, and of almost, every other religions edifice in Paris, half a dozen new churches, some of them of gigantic size, are rising at different points. The new grand opera is costing millions, and is-rapidly urged fiirward. Then there is the prodigious task of rebuilding the immense Hotel Dieu, or groat city hospital, the largest, perhaps, in the world. Aud again, in the northeast of the town, in tba midst of the great manufac turing and iron forge district, a new “X Jeo ple’s Park” is being laid out, formed of what are nailed the buttes or knolls of Saint Cliau mont, very high rising ground, in a rough state and worked as chalk and gravel pits.— More than twelve miles of rail and tram roads have been laid down upon this to bring it into order, a‘nd live hundred wagona drawn by steam engines and horses, with an Im mense corps of laborers, are at work upon it. All this, of oouse, involves indefinite outlay. There are parts of the town whore the “old est inhabitant” quite loses himself, so wholly are they transformed. I passed through one of these the other day, and found police sta tioned to show people the way, which I was obliged to ask myself, after a fifteen years’ acquaintance I All this is very wontlorful and beautilul, but at the same very costly. A Scoundrel Ruins Five Young Girls. —The citizens of Oxford, Mass., are consid erably excited over the conduct and crimes of one Henry Mann, a stone mason, who has been employed in the erection of the new Episcopal Church in (hat place. He has been in the vicinity about four or five months, and in that time has succeeded in effecting the ruin of at least five young girls, from sixteen to twenty years of age. lie was ar rested last week upon a charge of fornication, but got off with a fine of §2O and costs:- An other charge is still pending, upon which he is under $20(1 bonds to appear to-morrow for trial. Ho is about forty years of age and is reported to have one or more wives living. It is hoped that the law will put an end to his career for the present. —Boston Etmldj The Horse. —lf you have the care of hor ses, remember'that a horse is much more ea sily taught by gentle than by rough usage. If you lie* him well, he will be grateful} he will listen for, and show his pleasure at the sound of your footstep. As to his food, you should do by him os by yourself—“ little and often.” As for his work, being early, and then you need not hurry. Remember it is the speed, and not the weight, that spoils many a truo'-hoarted worker. [C7* A cotemporary discovers that some of our military officers have four aids —prome- nades, serenade, gasconade and lemonade the latter generally " qualified.” O' Ladies who have won husbands by gay plumes in their hats, are said to 1 hayo feath ered their diesis. 4 Brigadier General Madi by a Lillie Slorj. [ From tho Cincinnati Commercial,’Rop.l Tho fallowing illustration of tho wonder ful effect of a “ n Itttie story” upon the mind of Mr. Lincoln is worthy the dignity of prin ting, I beard it related by a member of Con gress, whose Words 1 shall give os nearly ns I can remember thorn f “Last summer two members of the House, from Maine, called upon the President to, have a friend of theirs,*a Colonel in the ar my, promoted to a brigadiership. They en tered the President's room, and found his Ex cellency in ft humor-not the’ntost lively or agreeable. Something had evidently gone wrong with him, and he was not at all pleas ed to receive the distinguished visitors. Nev ertheless, he rose to greet them, took them by the hand, told them to be seated, and ask ed them what ho could do for them. ‘We called/ said one of the honorable*, * to have Col. ——, a gallant officer and a worthy man, promoted to a brigadier general/ “The President crossed his legs, combed his hair with his fingfcrs and replied as if a little irritated, ‘ I’d rather see you on any other business than that. This brigadier bu siness is getting to "tie a terrible bore. Eve ry man wauta to bo promoted, and fact is, I can’t reply with one request in a hundred.— I'm gettingdisgueted with stfch applications/ So the Congressmen let that subject drop for the present, and rather than make ah abrupt departure, which was the first impulse, one of them remarked, 4 What is the news from Kentucky, Mr. Lincoln V 4 Well, it’s not yery good/ said tho President. ‘ The fact is; there are three kinds of people in Kentucky, one is tho unionists good and true, who will stand by the country all the time; another is made up of secessionists, open and avowed rebels, who don't pretend to bo anything else, and then there is a third, that wavers between tho two, and sometimes on one side and some times on tho other/ . 4 That reminds me/ said one of tho listen ing Congressmen, * of an old worn-out preach er, who was going to retire from the ministry. In preaching his valedictory sermon, he said that there were three kinds of people in his congregation, good people, who were sure to go to heaven, bad people, who wore quite as sura to go the other way, and a largo number of folks who were too good to bo damned, and too bad to be saved/ ‘The President smiled, rubbed hi# hands, and requested the Congressman to repeat that story again, which he did. He then pulled a card nod pencil out of his pocket, and said, ‘Let roe sec—what is the name of that man you wanted promoted?’ Tire name and reg imentof the colonel Were duly chronicled, arrd he£t day a, brigadier’s commission was duly made out and forwarded. Thisincident ought to go down to history, in connection with others which have been transmitted to us from hundreds of years back, to show what trifling events sometimes effect human life and destiny for weal or woo. Here is a brig adier general made Put of a colonel through the instrumentality of a little story, but for whiph the eagles would never have been changed to stars.’ One of the Pictures.— A correspondent of the Chicago Journal relates the following interview of a Federal foraging party with ft Tennessee farmer: * f At another place wo called on the own* er, a man of over sixty years, well saved, yet evidently oast down and disheartened. He was polite, and answered all qaestionsreadi ly. On being esked what he had to spare, ho answered,‘Not much—indeed nothing/ Ilia wife and four children standing by him, said not a word, but countenance of the whole group showed that the old man told the truth. ‘ Indeed, I have 1 nothing, said he,, what with one army and another campaign ing through this part of Tennessee, they have stripped one of all I could spare, and more too/ 4 Have you no horses or mules?' asked the officer. * Yes/ answered the man, I have one mare mule, which is entirely broken down ; it was left me by a trooper, who took my last horse in its stsad/ *No beof cattle ?* Wis the next question, ‘ Not one/ was the answer. * Any hogs V ‘ Yes, sir, I have four pigs which I had, intended for winter's supply of meat/ ‘Any negroes?* asked the officer. ‘No, not me, my servants oil loft me two or three months ago. I have not one 6n the place.- I have to chop all my wood, and do all the out-door work, and mfy wife and daughters dc in-doors what they oan/-- * Any corn or wheat ?* *No wheat and only two or three barrels of corn/ was the reply. 4 Let’s see your mule/ flaid the officer. It was brought up, and as the old man had said. * Show me those pigs/ was the next demand. When he hoard this, the old man could hard ly speak—his hopfca were almost at an end. Ho showed the pigs, however ; they were no more than such a family would need, nor as much, in fact. The officer then,kindly said ; ‘You may keep all these things; they will help you out and can he of hut little good to us/and gave the old man a‘safe guard/ which might save his property from all fu ture molestation from our troops. Three years ago this man owned a large, well stock ed plantation and a fine stud of horses—had cattle and hogs in plenty, with servants to come at his call, and corn to sell and to keep. Now ho was sincerely thankful, and much moved, that we spared him his four little shoats, his pittance of corn and bis old mure mule, with which he hoped to make a small crop next year. The war has been at his very door, he had seen it in all its relations, and know how it was vigorously prosccu ted/' . NiPotsoN’s Opinion.— During the stay of the Emperor Napoleon at Lyons, in reply 1 o an address of a deputation of traders, itr which they insisted that the winter was like ly to be a very trying one fnr the working classes if the American war should oon'nue, he said: —“ Unfortunately the news from that.quarter is bad. I have, reason to think that this fatal war is by no means near its end.” lt is stated thft Spain has directed her commanders of Spanish forts to fire-on any Dnitod States War vessels that may fol low rebel cruisers within three miles of the shore. o jr" In New York a lady broke her hus band’s knee-pan in leaning over him to ca ress their.obild. Ladies are careless. | XT’ A planter in Kentucky paid $550 for a substitute for his si aye who was conscrip ted. . XT' Begin your web, and God will supply you with thread.. O' Transported ’ for life—the man who marries happily. A'PEEP \m TUB QW CAPITOL PRISON Treatment of an Old Gentkniari icfio wan Jiohbfd and Arrested while at Washington to Visit his son in the Army, Mr. Bcnhet C. Fowler, of Fairhaven, Con necticut, who has just been released from th® Old Capitol Prison, at Washington, made a brief statement of his case as follows t Last fall ho left his* homo to tra'vel fop tho T benefit of his health, which wan very poor, and to ascertain in regard to bis bod, who was serving in the Union army. On his w* rival at Washington for that purpose ho put up at the Mitchell House. That night, otter ho had retired to hie room, throe men, not in uniform broke into his room, and, declaring that they were United States detectives, pre tended to arrest him. The -first questibh they naked him was “How much money havo you?” He told them tho amount of his mo ney* and,they immediately proceeded to steal some one hundred and thirty odd Two of them then left, and the reiivtutfratf one, without any explannatjon, exhibition of warrant of any kind, or nllegatioh of charges,- took him tq.tho Old. Capital priaon-at Wash ington, and pot him into a cell. Mr. Fowl er’s baggage was also robbed, and not eydn » - shirt was left him. Days aud weeker passed, and Mr. Fowler’s health* already delicate, de clined rapidly. Tho room swarmed with loathsome vermin, which seemed to abound in,every thread of the miserable old blankets that wore given him for a bed. The food he spoke of as itfost horrible. Breakfast consist ed of a cup of muddy slush called coffee,- but hardly fit even to throw into the gutter, two or three little cakes of hard tack, and a small piece of still-fcd pork that would oftentimes fall in pieces from its own weight when taken up with the fingers. Dinner was composed of something they called bean soup, with, once a week, a dish of vegotabto soup' and a piece of beef hardly the size of thretf fingers. Supper was often a piece of bread and coffee; sometimes a piece of hard tack with crawling in it. Neither knife; fork, nor spoon was ever allowed. When atfy otfp of the prisoners looked out of the windows they were told to put their heads back or they would bo fired at, Last Thursday, through the infiuenco of some friends and a m'ember of Congress, Mr. Fowler, was released. An officer came to the prison With an uncondi tional release from Assistant Secretary Dana, No questions were asked of him, nor was the oath of allegiance tendered, nor the rtfoney returned which had been stolen, and lie is en tirely Ignorant .of any charge against him, or any reasons why he should hafe‘ been arrest ed. He comes from the prison with shattered health ; “ for/’ said he, almost with the sim plicity of second childhood. “ that horrible, horrible place has almost killed me.” Such were the adventures of an old man, going to the capitol of the. United States to seek infor mation of his son in the Union array. . A Tragic Romance or WotfANi/r Devo tion.—ln one of the Annapolis hospitals, (which, by-the-way, is known as the United States General Hospital No. 1), where there is so nmoh misery—so much to excite tbd pity—there are other episodes which awaken almost every tender sentiment of the soul. A young Lieutenant Colonel of a New York regiment was wounded in the abdomen in one of the recent battles before Richmond, and waa brought to the institution not 00 much for treatment as for rest. Wound* like his ere fatal. Pyemia is the result, and no skill can prevent its sure and steady prog ress, until it ends in the death of the patient. Acting on this knowledge, the sad tidings of bis impending death were sent to his family,- and through them to the young lady to whom 116 Was engaged in marriage. She lost no time in | materf ng to this city, and, reporting at the hospital immediately, became his nurse. No proxy pen cun well describe the fidelity with which she performs her task.— No duty is ,too disagreeable, no sacrifice too great. Knowing that he was to die, she in stated on being married to him. and the cer emony was performed on Wednesday night by the Chaplain. It was.a sad sight, witness ed in silence by the numerous officers in the same ward, ami brought fears to the eyes of more than one. I saw her and her rapidly sinking patient yesterday. I>r. Radcliffe, one of the Assistant Surgeons in charge, pass ed through the ward, and, more ns a matter of form than from necessity, asked her thtf condition of her patient. She shook her head fadly, y t resgnediy, and murmured, “No change ;no change I’in a dreary tone,as if each word was.a dagger to her heart/ Her husband was but semi-conscious, and was fast sinking. He may be dead by this timtf. \CT. A jealous husband at St. Louis fe ccntly spied around hia house and rushed, as ho supposed, upon his wife and a strange man in his garden, . Ju.-fc a« he was about to open the stranger with a big knife the lady revealed herself as his cook, and the young man was found to be her lotfor. He wa» spared. A wife in San TVancisco lately put a pe.iiion for divorce in tho court on the ground that h’or husband was a “ confounded 1001/’ The court wouldn’t admit the' tdeft* because almost every married man would be liable to the same imputation. Did you ever I XT’ A cotemporary, noticing the appoint* ment of a post-master, says : ‘ If he attends to the mails ns well as he does to the females, be will make a very Bt tentii6 and effluent officer.’ BSf The Parisian ladies this winter arer going to adopt very short skirts; Very high ho its, and very plaid stockings. The ladies here' have m> choice but to follow their exam-' pie. Enots. skirts and everything else arß so corfoflndedly high. ID” Next year there will be four eclipses, two of the sun and two of the moon. Thß eclipses of the sub occur on the 2Jkh of April and 15th of October; those of the moon on the 11th of April and the 2d of October. XT’ The minimum standard height for re cruits for the Volunteer' service has been fix ed by the- Secretary of NVar. at five feef in stead of five feet three inches as heretoforß established. . Egs“ There are nearly twelve thousand ten ement houses in New York city, and they av erage six families, oraboutthirty-ifve sonls to each house. XT’ A great man is most calm in storms a littleman most storms in calms. XT’ An old maid is like an old boot—ofn* use without a fellow. No~2tr'
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers