II ' 6 I** ' '■ . _ _■'■■■ 11 .... , , - _ I “OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT RIQIIT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY." ‘ VOL, 51. .^aaio^ I uc to a to TP' - iiear^ . utfie * .covers' .jbb a f -»y thp' . bo s -uy-fiv' .uoho .j—B ar '’ k Every reade*' M ■AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. pDDLiaaeo evert morkimo bt JOHN B. IHtATTOS. TERMS • gunscnfP.Tioif«—Two Dollars if paid within th yew; and Two Dollars not piftd iitbin the year. terms will-bo rigidly ad iiiered to iu every instance. No subscription dis continued untU)< all arrearages are paid unless at t be option of the Editor. ( Advbhtisbhrnts —Accompanied by thooAsn, and o'xceodlhg one sqUato, will bo inserted throe tmos for $2.00, and twenty-five cents for each tldltional insertion. Those of a greater length In roportion. Jdß'-l'Us.fWfWO —Such ns Handbills, Posting-bills imphlots, Blanks, Labels, &c. Ac., executed with mraoy and at the shortest notice. ftorfitni. VOLUNTEER. ft'Wo'ro coming Father Abraham/’ pot to lead the battle’s van, But to tell you not/a man • i .. flints to volunteer. Not a single Loyal Loagubr* Not a laoky or a leader, Not a greedy, pampered feeder At the public orib is eager Now to volunteer. Not an Abolition pleader, Not a vile sedition brooder, Not a Hessian or a nigger faill for Pennsylvania figure As a volunteer. Not a single street is u swarming,” Nowhere are the people thronging, Not a UvMg sonl is longing ’Xhoro to volunteer. When they see the draft is coming, Then they rally, and aro running To and fro, to ** put a * sub’ in/’ Fearing they might get a grubbing, Should tboy volunteer. But those are ” loyal” so they say, And wo must let them have their way, For they command us to obey, And wo must not attempt to. stay The bloody band that’s raised to slay All who would oppose their sway, The only right wo bavo to-day Is to volunteer. - ‘ I&imllanwmii ALONE AT TUB RENDEZVOUS. 1 XALB OP THE CUMBERLAND PALLET *N |Frdm the Freeman’s Monthly Magazine.] try is aware that unrelenting and bitter feelings of hoati lity animated the minds of the partizane du ring the memorable period of 1776 j and lit tle were the rude,inhabitants of,,the interior of the country inclined to soften this spirit in favor of the captive, British 'ot American.— It is true the harsh and often brutal conduct qf the tones, who spared, neither sex nor age, was ill calculated to induce the rough and harassed back woodsmen to listen to the still email voice which pleads in every human bo 10m for mercy to the tallen foe.^ . Too many had their memories burdened end hearts lacerated with the fddolleotion of houses burned, parents or children; brothers or sisters, murdered or tuthleßsly torn from the family hearth ; and hence the voices of the few gentle and. refined settlors, pleading lhat. merciful treatment be given to the pris oners was often dtowned in the storm of ex* cited passions and the wail of the lat'Cly'be reavea. It was during this dark and gloomy period (bat the town of Carlisle, in Cumberland County, on© of the oldest- settlements in. the State of Pennsylvania, was selected as the place to which Major Andre and Lieut. Des i bard were sent for tenure confinement by Montgomery, who had taken them prisoners near Lake. Champlain. , , The prisoners were lodged in the house or a family on.the corner of North Hanover Street and Locust. and were on a role of honor, which permitted them to extend their., excursions for si* miles around the only-in military drtess when beyond the .lines of too borough. - *.a. >. > ; ' Major Andrerwho.waaktill d, young Jpan, just entered - upon- ai-career of glory, seeing himself thus suddenly, checked in bis onward course to military renown, that object so dear tp-every soldier's heart,..secluded himselr at first.to brood But nis companion vola tile temperament, made rthe best pf iiouj ana apt Used himself by shooting through day tffter ho had stumbled upon the cave which opens its mysterious mouth at about a mile from Carlisle, he re turned, and by his description aroused An. fire's cUripsity sufficiently to make him forget Hia captivity for a while and determine him to accompany his friend. The two then visi ted the cave and were amply repaid for the labor of exploring by the curiosities of nature which they found there stored away m kb gloomy recesses, The Visit sfcbfiied moreover to oct like.a, charm upon the poor prisoner's for af terwards ho seemed when afi/t£iing prevented him even for a day from rambling through the woods and field* that surrobnded thektown.’ ... At early morn he wodld start forth with his light guti in his hand* his game-bag con taining a frugal rhpast, sliing across his khouldef by a nedt bolt, and a stray Volume Of ahy work he could pick up to beguile his sylvftn solitude.. Gradually be extended his Walks to the very limits assigned to him. and thus made himself familiar with all the beau tiful spots in the whole extent of his rftnge. One of, these became at last his favorite re , sort, ... ... About two miles and a half from the bor- ih a north-westerly direction, the Opn otfoguinefc. makes a bend between the, hills apf seems to seek ft bidiug-plaoe .from Neighboring rooks look down upon it, as |,f ever watchful of this thsjr only offspring- Nnd favorite playful, and the little riv ulet, looks here as if attempting an ©shape from the observation of its tall guardians, Jujl i.p.thiu, attempt half enoiroles a ,flpot fit I for fftiry revels. It was here youthful Prisoner loved to sit And read or, think* with* put thq, slightest desire to >znolest the squir rel over bis h®nd,pr even tbs deer, that would ~hpwTmdTthAh“distv f *rb~t r, orev ftp tee finny tribe that limo tae waters of the pretty brook. But he was ler 0) not left many days without a companion in his musiogs. . r 1 , V / Onfe morning after he had just arranged his oouoh and was about to decline with his volume in his hand to read, or think of mer ry England, he heard a crash ns if it were in mid-air, an exclammation of distress, and had ‘hardly tithe to spring to his feet before, ho discovered the cause of the noise. The stoop hill side Against which be was redlining trap eoVcfsd with trees and undor btiisn to, thb top. and through, thick growth dashed h horse on its downward course, ns if maddened by seme irresistible force. Its rider, & dflunfry girl, sat pale but evidently fearless and erect in the saddle and endeavored to check the steed by soothing words and a Skillful management of herruin ; but the animal seemed to bo under the influ ence of terror or pain, and rushing .blindly down by its own impetus'woiijd have .been precipitated over the steep tyink' of the rivu let, if Andre, who had watched its course for jx second or two, had not,'at the risk of his ■life, jMasbed forward and seised the and while he with a sudden jerk turned the animal’s head to the right, his strong arm checked it so abruptly that it was forced upon its haunches, which enabled the fair eques trian to .spring lightly oatrof the saddle.— They then, disdovered what caused the poor animal.to iqtjSO frantically ; a cluster of bees had stttled npdtij'hia left haunch, inflicting their Vengeful stings for having been disturb ed by the caroless.iswitohing of bis tail. ' After the enimal had been relieved from its tormentors, and soothed by cool applica tions from the brook; Andre had time to turn to the young girl he bad saved from a violent death. She stood still by his side, pale but not trembling, and when she saw him some what more at liberty to attend to her, ptesaed hor thanks to hiftl in duch. a dgbifled and refined language that the young .officer, who had until then met only with the unedu cated hardy daughters of the settlers.along the creek, was surprised and began to exam ine her more closely ; and few girls would stand the test of 'it 01060 examination better than she. Kate Cleveland whs 'the daughter of (Mirer Cleveland an English'm'h'ti, who, having fallen in love with a young lady far above him in rank, and seeing his love reciprocated, found that only by an elopement ho could secure the prize he was anxious to secure. The la dy consented to the proposal, and the two fled and embarked as emigrants to the new coun try. Love enabled them to cope courageously with all the trials and obstacles which they hdd to encounter in the new country, before Mr. Cleveland had secured for himself the in dependence of a* substantial farmer, and the possession of a fine tract of land in the Cum berland Valley. " And when after they had been married lor several years, a daughter came to enliven their household and to draw the bonds of love closer, they resolved to bestow, all their care upon their child, and to give it the education which their own training in England enabled them to impatt. Kite became, therefore, the wonder of the country, foV she was not only skilled in the ordinary branches of education, but could al so draw and paint the beauties of nature, tell the names of the stars in the blue ether, and play the guitar, which she accompanied with her beautiful voice. But not only her men tal, blit idlem -her physical education, her pa rents took odre ,tC attend to ; and Kate be came an expert equestrian, learnt to fallow the hounds,in fjlll .Jiglloo after the prowling fox, and coiild, if neCoegafy, fire a gun with a precision by ho,. ineanjj cotqmon among the degenerate descendants of the.hardy pioneers. Accustomed to canter over too country with out an escort, she bad that morning mounted a rather unbroken colt, which she had inten ded to train for her service, and,had proceed ed safely until at the brow of til oh ili which overhangs the brook; .her horse had given of fence to a small swarm of bees by switching its tail over them, and henoo the accident. Kate explained the cause ot her mishap in a few words to the young soldier, and, then mounted again her now subdued cult she suf fered him to escort her on foot toward her -home. But when he bad reached the limits of the space to which bis wanderings were confined, be stopped, and with a somewhat confused air, said; . ‘• Miss' Cleveland, your .conversation and language have vividly called forth the recol lections of my distant home and brought be fore my mind the image of a beloved sister, now thinking of her absent brother and soo thing the fears of an anxious mother. I much wish that I could accompany you-a lit tle farther and listen to your voice, but the chains of the captive are around me and pre vent me from going any further.” He then turned his head away, and after a few-seconds, during which be sought to over come bis feelings, he continued, “Farewell, may it not be,forever.” Kate; whp was a trfie Adman in all, her feelings, had become interested in the fate of the young soldier and pitied bis condition ; she felt as if it were her duty to do something to soften hislot, ttnd.therefore replied; “Nay, grieve not Major, you knqw the file OfWar, of .which you soldiers speak so muohi,iflay soon change your position, and I hope by the time we meet again £ou will greet me with better news. So good-bye for the present, and as I often ride.along this road, you may soon,come to bring me better news." returned, that day in a Sadder mood to his Quarters, bdtnodne disturbed him with questions. u f .1 1 •( ■■ • • Many h time Utter that did he meet Kate Cleveland ejthpr by the brook or in the woods <jn the hill,, until so great an intimacy had sprung up’ between them, that neither hesi tated to.avow that love, not adtiidefit; bfollght them together. Hippy days wore those for the young lov ers, and the one forgot for hours that he was a soldier iti thß hands of his enemies, while the other never thought of the fact that she was pledging her faith to one sworn to fight against her friends and ootintrynden. Every afternoon, about four o'clock, would Kate find an excuse to rilount her horse,-and accompanied bv a fine large dog. she was sure to take the road tq what,is known ns “ Wag- Oner's .Road,” and if she was the first at the rendezvous, she was sure to chide her knight as soon as he oante in sight, for his wont of gallantry in lotting her wait for liim. chapter n, In the meantime, when the tories of the neighboring country fqdml that the two-gal lant British soldiers were left to traverse the oountfjr without a guard, they determined not only to effect their escape! but oven to tion oert for rising, nhd then to disarm dll the re bels and take possession of the town and the neighboring property in thb name of King George. Letters were sent to them by a sim ple , boy, whom they rightly judged nobody would suspect, for poor.KnollV Pete was com; sidered by the-wholo neighborhood a,natural stupid. But they took also the precaution to request the Major to burn all the letters as soon as he had read them. Their plans were well laid, and might have led to a great deal of mischief had it not been fur a happy acoi-‘ dent, which, proved, however, disastrous, to the heroine of our tale. One day when Pete had been'sent to the Major with some letters written in French, communicating the final arrargements made by the tory partizans, poor Pete had lingered so long about the creek, where he was accus tomed to look for Andre, that he became hun gry, haying had.nothing to eat since early morning. Thinking that he ought to take care of himself in order to care for his em ployer’s interest, he vrdnt to the house of a Mr. Brown, who hud a farm in the neighbor hood, and asked for some bread and milk.— Mrs. Brown gave him loth. In the mean time, while be was still eating, Mr. Brown, a staunch rebel, entered the house, and spor tingly inquired of Pete if the English had al ready succeeded in making him promise to enlist as a drummer.- Poor Pete thought that ho was suspected, and having, a wholesome dread of the summary proceedings so often famdeuse of by both parties, hastily replied, “I ain't .doin; nothin' with the English, I only'conies to talk with the captain," “With what captain?” inquired M*/- Brown. “With him that sits here by the creek with his gal,” replied poor Pete, more and more frightened on seeing Mr. Brown’s stern countenance overshadowed- by an angry frown.' “ And whnl does the captain tell you ?" continued his questioner. “Nothin’ at all, he axes only about the folks." ....... Mr, Brown now suspected that the Major had some sinister motive in watching the boy, and determined to watch them both. He' therefore said nothing, but determined to watch the hoy’s course. ...When Pete had satisfied the cravings of hisitippc.tife. ho left and returned to bis post neap the bridge. He had hot been many .minutes on his seat beneath the big elm tree, before Major Andre arrived, arid seeing the Boy, inquired if he had any message for him. Pet Si-who still recollected Brown’s threaten ing face, replied with some hesitation; . . “Nothin’ particular, only the folks likes to see you. “ And have they given you no message for me?” “ No, captain, they didn’t tell me any thing ” Andie,-who had became rather impatient at the more than usual stupidity of the boy, and suspecting something wrong, inquired more sternly: “ And have you no paper for me, nothing to give mo?” The boy then began to look cautiously around him, and perceiving no one near, drew from the lining of his cap a couple of letters and gave them'to Andre. The latter then hastily opened them, and his face brightened as he read the contents. He gave the boy half a crown and told him to go buck and tell the people that all would be right. When the boy had left him he again drew forth the friendly epistles, and after having ro-perusod them, he murmured, “one day more and I shall be free, and again on my onward course Late she mil be the oompan- Oh, that to-morrow were only to glory ; and ion-of my life. passed over 1" But there was an eye upon him, which had Watched with no friendly interest all the gleams of joy that had so suddenly illumina ted bis countenance, and the owner of that eye, Brown, satisfied that something wrong was going one, hastened to gather his friends together to consult with them as the best way to discover, prevent, and punish the treach ery which he suspected. Not long after Pete hod left, Kate came dashing down the hill on her white pelfrey, and seeing her lover already at the trusting place, sprang lightly out of the saddle, and in a moment was by his side. Andre could not long conceal from her his hopes and anticipations, he told her that that very evening he intended to take ,back bis parole, and .then make his escape during the night by the aid of his friends, and then con cluded: “ To-morrow, depr Kate,, at sunrise, we’ll meet at the great Oak, whore the creek makes a bead, to bid a final farewell to these lovely haunts, and you and I be free and united forever. Does thy .heart not beat more wildly, my dear Kate, ot the thought of visiting old England, the home of thy fathers, at being blessed by my fond mother for hav ing miide her child so happy f” But the maiden replied; “I too have a mother and a dear father whom I must leave behind,” and then she continued in a still sadder tone “ besides that, a feeling which! cannot describe forbids my sharing your un alloyed pleasure. Are you sure of your friends ? May there not be some treachery to be feared ? Are your arrangements made so that you do not jeopardize your life in the enterprise, deor Andre.” ■ ’ “Nay," replied her lover, “fear nothjng Kate, only fail me not at the bouitbf sunrise. And to make assurance doubly:surej-1 will now. return at an early hour to. lull all suspi cions. So farqwe|l till, to-morrow." And im printing for the first time a kiss,upon her rosy lipS; hb assisted h'er to mount her pelfrey, and when she was quite out of sight he returned to his quarters in Hinover street. Brown bad in the mean time collected together al most nil the members of the company of which ho was the citpthin, and having' laid before them the grounds of his suspicions, it was" determined to seize the Major, make him give up the papers which Pete had brought him, and then'qo make him confess who were bis tory friends. But when they arrived at the elm tree, they found the place vacant, but discovered by the trail that a third person had been with the Major, and that person a wotdan. this only increased their suspicions and they im mediately hastened to Oiirlislo: When they reached the borough; the captain ordered his company to sufroilrid the house, and then told the excited crowd that bad gathered a round, what he had seen by the bridge, and bis suspicions that the tories were in correa-- denoe with Major Andre. The Major was now brought forth but refused to, acknowl edge as , true the allegations made against him. They then searched his clothes and found the letters delivered by Pete. Brown hastily tore them open, but could notread a word of the contents.. The letters were writ ten in French* and there was no one in the borough that could interpret them.— When Brown saw himself thils.foiled,in die hovering the plot, he became so enraged that he determined to execute lynch law upon the British Officer, and commanding his men to make everything ready ho had already laid his bands upon the. prisoner, when hie.pro ceedings wCte stopped by a new comer.— Mrs. Baplsey; the hostess of the two officers now came opt of the* house, hud with a strong arm made a passage tp the spot tirhoro Brown and Andre stood, the one a .personation of animal excitement, the other a pioturq.of cool determination and''passive despair.— CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APR ) "When Brown saw Sira. Ramsey, ho hecamp [ •'t once more calm, and a da'sh of timidity seemed to mingle With his authoritative voice. • Mrs, Ramsey was; it is true, at all times a woman whose piitli it vrnS to cross, i when she was determined upon anything, and she came, evidently with no interest to aid Brown in his violent acts, moreover Brown had- been an apprentice to her husband, and hud known from experience, many a times, that Dame llamsey's hand was a rather heavy one. when descending in anger, and as it is hard to divest ourselves wholly of ear ly impressions he felt always an undefinable awe in the presence of his master's" wife.— When the old lady reached the parties and had learned what had taken place, and Brown’s present intention, she shook him-by the arm, and exclaimed, •* Lot go that man, you good for nothing scamp I If he! is a Britisher, he is in my house, and I think Jane Ramsey can keep a dozen.eiiob.obn.ps safe, - until the people that have a right to judge, come and take him. Lot go, I say; who made you a judge, I’d like to know? Not a hair of his bead'shall you touch I here he has been put alive; by those who had a right to do it, and here he stays till they come again 'add tJike 'himv”' and : then- turning to the crowd, which had drawn out of reach of the old-dame’s hickory, she continued:— And you had better go home and tend to your wives and young ones; or if ye are men go and shoulder your guns and tight the Brit ishers and Cories fair fight, instead of stand ing around one man that .has no arms.”— Then laying hold of Andre’s arm, she push ed him in the house and closed the door af ter him. Brown from habit awedJjy the au thoritative voice of Mrs. Rotmsey, withdrew nis men to a safe distance, and then gave vent to a.shower of threats, and sent the let ters to the nearest post of the rebel army. # The next morning just as the.sun wasgil ding the tops of the trees, Rate Cleveland seated on her white pelfrey, and her Ponto crouched by her side; was at the try sting place beneath the old oak tree. But hour alter hour passedraftd poor Kate was st’ll alone at the rendezvous . ‘ She did not dis mount, she did nut ride up and down the road, she only sat in the saddle, in a sad and expecting attitude, her whip fallen Tram her hand, the rein was' lying on the pelfrey’s neck, while her .right hand supported her cheek, as if she were sitting in an arm chair, and her eyes were fixed upon the gorge through which she expected Andre to coma. At last, after the sun had been so high that it stood.right over her head, a horseman ap proached through.'the gorge, but Ponto did not spring forward to greet him, and when he came near, she discovered that it was one of her neighbors just returned from town. Farmer Gibson seeing Kate atone and as if waiting Lr somo one; first inquired wheth er her father was going to town, and asked whether she had hoard the news that the British officers had been removed by orders from headquarters, and that they had left Carlisle under an escort. He then related to her the cause of his removal, and dll the circumstances which we have just described. Kate turned deadly pale when she had heard nil, and without a word turned her pelfrey towards home. When she bad dismounted, ■BhedeftritruticaTed-lor-m-the-yard-and-went to her room wholly deprived of reason. For many u year was she known in that vicinity as crazed Kate, the officer’s bride; until her wearied body found at last a resting place near Meeting-House Spring. Major Andre’s after career and fate is a matter of history, hut the legend tells us, that with the hamefa of his mother and sister, he mingled that of dear Kate, when be breathed oat bis soul in bis mistaken zeal for an idiot king. How New England is Represented, in the Senate Committees. —The Chicago Post calls attention in an able article to the ex treme sectional composition -of the Senate Standing Committees,;. iW'.o mafce the lollow ing extract; “We believe that under the new order of. things New England senators over’ an undue proportion of the senate committees. 'i’he list of committes-of -which New -Eng land senators are chairman-is as follows-:—: Finance. Fessenden of Maine; Contingent Expenditures, MorriJ of Maine; War claims, Clark of tfew Hampshire; Foreign Relations, Sumner of Mass ; Military Affairs, Wilson of Mass.; Manufactures, Spraguoof R. I.; Post - Office, Collamer of- Vermont, Pnblio. Buildings, Foote of Vermont; District of Columbia, Dixon of Connecticut; Pensions, Foster of Connecticut; Library, Collamer of. •Vermont. Twelve of the committees have chairman from New England; and the only senator from that seotioninot chairman of a : committee is Mr. Oragin of New Hampshire, a new Senator, who however, is o member of the committee on Naval affairs, on the terri tories, and on the Pacific- railroad. : This looks, and is sectional in the extreme, Eve ry-oommittee of which a New England-Sena-, tor is not Chairman, has one or more of the Senators from thot epotion among its mem ber*vW4 consider this fully as Taprehensi-' hie as the piolusion of MoDongal and; Sadie, biify, and a much greater insult to’the “ so vereign States’’ that-are snubbed by that oomparitively small section of the Union.” New England ie now playiog the intolor-. ent role once played by the South. Dues New England suppose that'thnt game will bo submitted to by tHe people any more than was the siniilar conduct of the South ? Sla very has had its supremacy; it posesaed power and exercised it arbitrarily for its own interstsl Extortion in the name of protec tion and revenue, is now bearing upon the people most mercilessly. It is eating np the Subsistence of the people, and grasping at every dollar of the hard earnings of the in dustry of the country. Now England may lord it boastingly, defiantly and profitably now, hut a day of reckoning is inevitable.— The bolder and more unblushing does it dis play its grasping spirit, the sooner will come the day of retribution. General Orapt, in his reduction of the rebels and restoration of peace, will notdeliver the country alone from, the borrorsmf war. But ho will relieve the country from the pretexts under whioh.New England is extortieg the last shilling from the pockets of a people already opreasod with taxation in every form. . . I£7” If a man is' deemed to the ’stake, he won’t generally prefer that' it should he beef. - XT" A generous man will place thh bene fits he confers beneath His feet—those, he re ceives nearest his heart. The greatest organ in the world—the organ of. speech in woman; an organ too, without a atop. „ . Tnn mnflh sensibility creates ppliapi nesi; too mucli insensibility creates crime. L 6,1865. TO CAN’T I HAVE A BEAU ? 0 dearl 0 dear I there’s just one thing, I’d truly love to know— Why can't I have like other girls,. A young and handsome beau? There’s Sallie Jones and Mattie Smith, And freckled Susie Grow, A trio like the Gordon maids, Yet each one has a beau ? But here's poor mo, as fair as a flower, A£ eyer chanced to blow— My winning voice and sweet beguile .. All fail to catch a beau I I dress as neat and smile as sweet As any girl I know, Yet as I live I do believe I'll never got a beau I I am always found in good attire, Whatever gents may go,. Yet not one chap in. all the lot' Asks me to bo a beau 7 Confound such men, such silly dolls— llow veryldull and low, To stand and look, to grin and squint— Afraid to be beau I Just list to me, ye gnawy clowns, Now don’t you fully know, That you should be each one of you, Some<fair young lady’s beau? Then brush your teeth, and oil your hair And let your ’stachias grow, And turn to be a civil man— A gay and*gallant beau I TORRiSH MAEUIIGE CUSTOMS. If ono of the Sultan's .daughters has attain ed the age at which. Turkish girls are gener ally married, the. father seeks a husband for her among the nobles of his court. If a young man especially pleases her, he is giv en the rank of Lieutenant General, nothing lower being ever selected. The chosen man receives, in addition, a magnificant, full-fur niaJied palace, and sixty thousand piastrees a month pocket money, and, in addition, the Sultan defrays all his household expenses.— If be be married he is obliged to get a divorce. Ho is regarded as the servant rather than as the husband of his wife. The sultan himself announces to him his impending good fortune and it is his bounden duty to bow reverently, kiss the Sultan's foot, summer a few words about the high honor, who unexpected happi piness, &c. He then proceeds with a cham berlain, who beavs the Imperial Hart Ilum agon, to the Sublime Porte. A military band precedes him, and soldiers are drawn up along tho road, who present arms. At the bead of the stairs the bridegroom is received by the Grand Vizar, conducted by him into a room where all the ministers aye assembled and the Hitti is rend aloud. The ceremony corresponds to the betrothal. The marriage ceremony is much like that of ordinary Turkish nobles. If the bride groom be rioh, he himself pays for the trous seau, but, as a general rule, the Saltan sends him money for it. The presents are placed in gold or silver baskets, on whoso lids flow ers or billing doves are represented, and con sist of diamonds, rubies, pearls, diadems, bracelets, girdles, .caps, furs, gold embroid ered dresses and shawls. The bridegroom receives from bis father-in-law a splendid sabre, buttons, and a watch and chain, all brilliantly sparkling .with diamonds, and from his bride a. rosary of fine pearls, and linen of every description. The custom has been abolished of ministers making presents. .The dowry of the princess is most costly.— Madame Olymphia siw a dress which cost above fifteen thousand pounds. But little of the fine texture was visible beneath tho em broidery and pearls. 1 • .When the presents have boeu delivered to the bridegroom, bride proceeds on the •next morning to his house, in order to look at his arrangements. Our authorities were present when the Princess Fatami, the be trothed of All Gb&lib Pasha, paid such a visit. ■ Accompanied by a numerous suite, the bride drove' in a state oarrioge, which has cost £4,500, through the densely crowded streets. She wore a blue sky silk dress, cov ered with a mass of pearls and diamonds, and her head was completely veiled in a tex ture of gold thread. The bridegroom receiv ed her on the threshold of hie house. He was a handsome young man, but naturally somewhat pale and excited, and as he bad never seen his future wife, and on this occa aion could only notice her outline;.Us she was ovei-laden with ornaments. When, he had saluted her with a deep bow, : (ind led her into ■the house, he walked away again. Thefirst visit of the bride is intended to enable her to examine the internal arrangements of her future home, without any obstacles or dis turbance. . The actual meeting pf the new couple takes place on the evening of this day. At eight o’clock the princess proceeds to the state room of the palace prepared for her, and seats herself upon a throne. Two ladies of honor station themselves on either side of her.. At the feet of the lady, who ie splen didly dressed, and covered with a large veil, lies an embroidered The husband supped at his old residence, with his relatives andjfriends, add said bis prayers in a mosque. Shortly after nine o’clock he proceeds to the princess, and is conducted to her by two eunuchs, who are awaiting him at the door. The first thipg he does is to kneel down on the carpet find pray. When this is conclu ded be approaches bis Wife, salutes.hot sub missively, kisses her band, and says a few .words that occur to him at the moment.— The ladies of honor then remove her veil; and he.sehu wfaethet he has married d pretty or ugly woman. Whether she is pretty or the contrary, a princess will always let her husband feel how high she stands above him. E[e. occupies d room next to her'S and must wait her commands there at all hours. Whether he has friends there, or be alone —os soon as one of her eunuchs summons him to her presence, he must rice at once, make a temeua (that is to say, touch the ground, and then his forehead with hie hand/) ami proceed at once to’ her There he is expected to stand until she re quests him to be seated. If be wishes to fitly a visit th her family, or to go on business ho must first ask her leave ; and if he fetnains away unusually late, |ha must inform her of it and the cause. Hie wife never lets him go pat alone, some of hep eunuchs always,ao qumpany him, and would inform her were be , to do anything that was naughty. In such marriages the couple do dot take their meals together. His are sorted up to him in his room, without any / ceremony, while she eats hers like a princess. At meal time a handsome carpet is spread id 'her room, and a large oi small table placed upon it, according to whether the lady dines alone or has invited other ladies. Before the meal a young slave, who has no other duty but this, kneels before her, holds up a golden, wash basin and pours luke-warro waterover her hands from a can in the shape of a Greek ampbore. Another female slave bands her a napkin of white silk, with gold fringe. The kitchen is outside the harem, and all dishes are brought in a basket lined with white muslin. The basket is sealed up in the kitchen, and before tber princess tastes a dish, a lady in waiting examines the seals to see that they are unbroken. After dinner, during which female slaves perform music, the princess ' washes her , hands again, and then '.proceeds to another room, where she performs tier devotions.— After this the eveningamusements commence. Keclining on a divan, she smokos a pipe or cigar, while slaves read or sing to her. ■ If she has invited any lady friends, there is a concert, and a bullet, or a theatrical perfor mance, and.during it rare fruits, pastry and coffee are handed round. if the princess desired to see gentlemen, she gives her husband orders to send invitations to certain persons. Such guests assemble in a room divided into two compartments by a guilt grating. On ope side is the princess and her ladies, who see and hoar without be ing seen ; op the other side are the gentle men, who select such topics of conversation ns will please her imperial highness. • The husband has no way.of.escaping this serfdom. His princess can be separated from him at any moment, but he must stick to ter. He has no other consolation but one, that bis exist ence.costa him nothing, and that be has u share of the fabulous luxury which his wife indulges in. These husbands of princess must be, regarded as the scapegoats which, the male sex offer up as a punishment for its contempt of women. At any rate the prohi bition of such husbands having a second and third wife is a turkish confession to the world how dishonoring polygamy is. The Turks ought to derive from it the moral:— “ What you do not wish to happen to a prin cess, oughtnob to happen to another womdn.” The Streets of Pompeii.— The streets are for the most pare straight, and run at right angles to qne another. They are not wide, many of them not admitting of the’pas sage of more than one chariot at a time, and probably those were not much used, taking into account the small extent of the city (on ly three-quarters of amile in length, and half a mile in width,) though the jOeeply worn ruts in the stones would seem to indicate the contrary. The roadway isWmpnsed of huge polygonal masses of lava, from 9 to 18 inch es in diameter, and 9 inches in depth, closely fitted together. TRe stones were worked in n wedge shape, so that they spanned the roadway like a vault, each stone resembling the voussftr of an arch. All the streets have pavements for loot passengers; even those where chariots could not pass, consisting of curbstones of lava, with the pavement oora -posed~oHjita-af-nmrblß and atone Set in ce ment, the whole rubbed fiat; places where the curbstones have broken away, they have been damped together with iron. These foot pavements are elevated, sometimes more than a foot above the roadway ; it is supposed that the latter, in times of rain (which falls vpry heavily in these countries) became a kind of sewer, as all the streets are highly inclined one way or other ; and this supposition seems well founded, because there exist everywhere huge stepping-stones from pavement to pave ment, the wheels of the carriages'and the horses (always two) passing on either side of the stone.* The way in which the solid refuse of the city was carried away is still d mystery, scarcely any tracts of sewers having been found. Mazois gives us a drawing'of one, the position of which he does not slate, but it seems only to have served to carry the wa ter from the streets under the walls to out side the town. It is just possible the streets may have been the only sewers, as they are still in some towns in the east. Though tra ces of aqueducts are found in the country around, it is nut known with any great cer tainly from whence Pompeii was so plentiul ly supplied with water, there being no wells. A very Urge number of leaden and earthen ware pipes have been found, the former of which supplied the numerous fountains which wore all the principal streets,— They consisted of a cistern formed of blocks of lava, clamped together with iron, the wa ter falling into them through a pipe fixed in, one of the black atones of the cistern, which rises higher than the rest. Execution in Japan. —A letter from Yo koham describes the beheading of two men; alleged to baye been accomplices in the re cent assassination of. British officers. The writer says i “ Too door Queried, and a man bound with cords add blindfolded was led through the crowd and made to kneel down on a mat placed before a hole dug to receive his blood and bead. The attendants drew his clothes down off his neck, and gave a few preliminary brushes with the hand upwards as if to stroke the hair all oneway. The executioner was one of the Tycoon’s soldiers, who had pur chased a newpword blade, and had asked permission to \jo the duty and thus try bis weapob. \ “After securing the linen round the han dle and carefully wetting the blade, he took up his position deliberately on,the left side of the victim, and raised the sword high above his bead with both bonds, let it fall with a swoop which severed the neck completely.— The head was held up for the inspection of the chief officer present, who signified his ap proval—” I have seen,”—and it was then thrown into the bole. The other than was catried in and they appeared to find some lit tle difficulty in getting him to kneel in a Con venient position;' but when his knees had been perfectly adjusted and bis beofi laid bare, the other executioner, who bad also pe titioned that hh'might fill the office, advanced, took his place by. the prisoner’s side, and driving the sword over his head with an ele gant flourish, inflicted the blow as effectually as his predecessor. “The blades did not appear to be different from those ordinarily worn by tho two-aworJ ed class, any one of which would have done the work quite as completely. The faces of the two men were villainous enough to justi fy the suspicion of being murderers in a for eigners mind. The punishment did not end at the place of execution; placards have been put up everywhere stating their crime, and giving their names and ages." J®*That man is rich indeed in friends who can lone two or three dnd hot bo bank rapt. 'V EXECUTION OF A sir. Binging of Kennedy, the Rebel Spi/, and Extraordi nary Coolness and Abandon on the - Gallows—lnteresting Narrative* Robert Cobb Konnedy,’who was recently convicted, as a'rebol spy, and as the incendia ry who fired BarhumVMuseunvNew York, last November, wus hung at Fort Lafayette On Saturday the 25th ult, ■ There were but few spectators present, and they the garrison of the fort and the bounty-jumpers confined therg'* At five minutes of I o’clock.he; was apprised by Colonel Burke (tho command ant,) Marshal Murray, and his deputy, that the time for death had arrived. He was sea ted at a table writing at. (he -time, and Qon. Beale, (the rebel officer now on parole to provide supplies for rebel prisoners,) Captain Wilson, and Chaplain. Ruake, of Fort Ham ilton, were standing near him. Kennedy re ceived his visitors coolly, stating that he know what yieir errand was. t Ho then turn ed to two reporters who were present, asking them to do lull justice to his gave a pipe he prized much to be sent to his moth er,, bade farewell to hia friends, and turning to the company said : ” This is hard for you d—-d Yankees to treat me this way. X have been a regular, soldier.” The executioner novv to bind Kennedy’s arms. While this was in progress Kennedy asked General Beale for a hondkerchief, and used it. When the black cap was placed upon his head, ho asked, ** Am I going to wear this thing to the gallows ?” The answer. “ Yes.” The preparations being no.v complete, the proces sion formed in line, and as ic passed out of the coll door, Kennedy, turned to Gen Beale, with the remark: 44 This is a cowardly mur der.” . When the gallows was readied, the 17th Regulars, which acted as guard, was drawn up on each side the scaffold, while the bro kers and who bad been marched out, stood in the back-ground, tho v brokers slightly in advance of their victims'. The first act under the gallows was the reading of the findings and sentence of the court marshal which convicted, Kennedy, with the order of Gon. the sentence. During, this ceremony, which was performed by Captain'French, the prisoner preserved his composure, occasionally smil ing or breaking out into such-expressions as these; “A d—d lie I” (referring to the charge of beingaspy.) “ That Un’t a crime, 'is it?” (referring to the charge of being in the rebel army.) The reading of sentence having been concluded, Kennedy said, in a loud voice: ** Gentlemen 1 this i« murder.” At the conclusion of the prayer, the clergyman knelt in front of the prisoner, and offered a touching plea in his behalf.— Kennedy, still standing, looked down upon his spiritual guide and made no remark until the end of the supplication. I)r. Ruske then shook Kennedy’s baud, badq. him. farewell, and ,implored him to act as a' man and a Christian. Kennedy bowed in response to this appeal, and then calling to Colonel Burke, said ; “ Colonel, send me a drink be fore Xgo 1”, •. • Kennedy again spoke in a loud as follows: “ I consider this, a judicial, brutal, coward -17 murder. There was no occasion for the united States Government to condemn me.” Pausing, for a moment, he said: “ Tell my friends,” —thesentence remained unfinished. The executioner here came forward-to adjust the noose. , , Turning to Colonel Burke, be said: come here, please.” Marshal Murray hero stepped up to Ken nedy , laid hie hand upon bis should remarking, “ one moment,” cheokei while the attending clergyman opeu Book of Common Prayer, and begun to read the service for the condemned. Kennedy, standing bareheaded and with pinioned arms, listened respectfully, fre quently using a white pocket handkerchief with difficult efforts of hie left hand. A deathly silence prevailed, broken only by tlie clear voice of. the clergyman, a venerable man, whp was visibly affected. Kennedy then suddenly broke out with the following verse, which he sang in a loud, clear voice, to a rollicking Irish air, and, with a touch of the brogue: “ Trust to luokl trust to luck I - Stare fate in the face ; For the heart will be aioy If it’s in the right place.” The verse had hardly been finished when the signal was given, and the cord was cut, the weight fell, and Kennedy sprang into the air, dying almost instantly, the sudden violence of the shook having broken his nook. After hanging for twenty niinutes the body was lowered, life was declared extinct, and the remains, placed in a common stained pine coffip, wore delivered to Kennedy’s friends. , The, end of this man befitted his profane, impenitent life. Even on the scaffold he was intoxicated; as his t lick speech and uu- 4 steady gait evidenced; He was a Deist, be lieving in,a Supreme Being, but in' nothing else- pnot even a future stale. The night be fore his death whs spent in writing and di- ■ rooting envelopes containing bis photograph. At sunrise be looked out on the bright sky, remarking that “ it was a fine day for the oc casion,” It is said that he partially confes sed to his having fired Barnum’s Museum, but denies that he fired hotels, or was a spy in any way. lie asserted that he was a reg ular Confederate officer, and appeared on the gallows in a full suit of dark gray, with a turnover collar and black silk neck-tie. Ha was a native of Georgia, and spent two years from '54 to ’56. in West Point. He entered the rebel service in Louisiana at the (out break of the war. He was about tlilrty-eight years of age, and in person of light build and medium height. His hair and eyes Were dark brown, and his beard and moustache rough and shaggy; 07* A wag speaking of a blind woodsaw er says that “ while none ever saw him see thousands have seen him saw.” . ' C 7" Men slip on water when it is frozen, and oh whiskey when it isn’t; Jgr Lawyers mouths are like turnpike gates—never open exoopt fur pay. Gsg" If you miss a train you don’t hay to wait for it—and that’s a comfort. Why is necessity like a great many lawyers ? Because it Knows no law. jgy-Xhe human race is, undoubtedly of more impurtiuico thar. d horse race* IC7* The love of glory ean only create a hero; the contempt of it creates a great man; NO. 41
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers