m
MVol. m.
EiiICAN VOLUNTEER
• % —r~
ypDLISHRD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BT
( JIOUS fit. BRATTOJI.
1 TEeHiS:
■ SojAnin’TTon. —Two Dollars if paid with'm th
Two Dollars mid fifty Cents, if not paid
rithiu the your. Tlieso terms will be rigidly ad-
in every insli-nce. No subsc'riptiou dis
ontinued until are paid unless at
ihS'fMlion of the lidiioV.
. the CASH, and
biib squarct, Will bo inserted three
im&sfor $2.00, and tWonty-livo cents for each
.Witiomil ffisertion. Those of a greater length in
iroportion, '
-Joi/RiV-Vting—Such as Hand-hills, Posting-bills
’junphleW. llhinks, Labels, &c. Ac., executed with
aon racy ahd.at the shorlcst-notico.
M"'
THE WEll-DIBGER.
OWO-lIIUI BALLAD
listen nil, while I relate
recently bcfol
a farmer down in Mnino>
: digging °f a well
BY JOHN a. SAXE,
3faU , many a yard ho dug and
Jgul still bo dug'in vain;
■** Ajaok V’ quoth ho, “ o’cn water
Prohibited in Maine !"
j still ho dug and delved awoyj
hd still the woll was dry 5
'only water to bo found
r us in tho farmer’s eye.
iby tho breaking of tho bank
Oiat tumbled from its station,
[sudilunly his hope was dasho d
[f future liquidation !
I now Ms sands were running fast}
!rid he had died, no doubt,
[that just when tbo earth cavod in}
[0 happened to fjo out 1
•i . j
.♦•.alia! — I have a happy thought I *
; -T i ; 'S.\eliiimud this wicked man—
' - anew this cursed well
■>;)®sco a pretty plan
' 'mi 1 ■
‘'’>*ll hide mo straight, and when my Wife
e’en my neighbors know
happened to my digging here,
? )-? ; Ihoy'll think that I’m bfclow !
so to Save my precious life,
: ilhoy’ll dig tho woll, no doubt,
fiwi deeper than 'twas dug at first}
; .<SBof«ro they find mo out !”
a Bj so ho hid him in tho hard
Vvjjjhrougli all tho hungry day,
m licle tho diggiug of his well
'•;J*n this dcceitfurway.
list what grief ami sbarao befci
false, ungrateful man,
JKS while he slowly watched to soo
, working of his plan :
.•Tjbfc neighbors all with one accord
each other said:
! .sWilh such a weight of earth above;
man is surely dead.”
■: 'Si
then the wife; with pious carbj
• %i needless cost to save,
; S»Sd - “Since the Lord hath willed it so;
•• v v]jß*ea• X<*b it bo his grave !"
'W
_
V'|fiE WfeONG MAN IN THE WRONG PLACE:
■ - ■■ —
BY CLARA AUGUSTA
people to blame mo for what is una
le ? That is a question I should bo re
do Uappy to havo solved to mv own
'.tiou and the satisfaction of others.—
I had no dodbt on the subject; but
idging from what has happened to me
past low days, X must confess my opin
somowhat shaken.
as entirely foreign from my intention
do a sensation, or enact a deception,
I packed my carpet bag last week, and
i my best suit preparatory to setting
in a visit to ray Aunt Nabby Bleeker...
t Nabby resides in the northeast cor-
Maine, in n town which I will deno-
Pineville,
pe the reader will excuse mo for allud-
Ito my personal appearance. I have a
ary air, and perhaps my dress may bo a
more martial than exactly benefits a
esistant. . But the ladies assure me that
is becoming to my complexion, and who
gainsay the ladies?
iave been strongly advised to enlist, but.
totally unfit for the service. The smell
mpowder makes mo faint, and I never
a gun but once in my life, and -I was
nod to my bed for a fortnight afterward,
exactly from tpo effects of the frigid, but
use the confounded fire-arm resented my
.vard handling, and kicked mo so severo
lat my right eye was in mourning for
ills, and my nose was knocked out of the
endicular-into the slantindicular.
had arrived in I‘inevillo rather late on
| i#«(iay night, and as it was tor, miles further
J^utlt Nabby’s rustic .cottage—
have some extent of territory in Maine
t put up af the Washington Iluuao—n one
eo aflair in the straggling village of Pine
registered my name—P. Sheridan—on
hotel book,' My Christian name is Philo
heus, but owing to the odity of the title,
the ominous length, X rarely write it in
I got some supper and retired immediately
tty room. I had just fallen asleep and
i dreaming serenely of hissing Mattie Ba
my sweetheart for the time, when I was
used by a great commotion in the street
eath my window.
'ties of— ‘ Wo must see him V * Trot him
1’ ‘ Three cheers for the gallant Phil!’
t the air.
concluded some great character had ar
id in town, and in my anxiety to behold
curiosity with the rest, I forgot my yol
uannel night-cap, and my.spares toilet,
1 springing out of bed X threw up my wiii
r and leaned out.
uat as X had got my eyes fixed on the
Tmg crowd below, there was a rap at my
mull 1 * 1 ? in t' * fearing, to answer per
lh° summons lest-I should miss
M’hi ia ? CO ,? f scoin g the celebrity.
Aa ° lttn dlord and landlady camo in>.hut
the lady retreated' instantly and remained
giggling outside th e door.
‘ My dear sir/said the landlord, ‘ you must
gb down. They won’t g 6 off till they see
Ye-’
‘ They ? Who arc they V asked I.
‘ The people around hois/ said he. l lt
hain’t often such fin extinguished character
comes hero, and taint no uso to try to pdt ’em
off!’
‘l’m obliged to them—much dbliged tb
them/said I,‘ but really— ’
‘Taint no use/ Said ho, doggedly, ‘Jyou
must go down, or the Washington House
will go down, Thoy’ro sure to do it I’
‘Oh, well/ said I— ‘ in that case I will go
down, surely’—and I began to dress. In a
hurry I knocked over the candle and' was
obliged to comoioto my adornment in the
dnrk. I got into my pantaloons with the
hind part in front, but there was no time'to
i’emedy the error ns the vociferous palls of
the landlord for mo to hurry assured mo. I
flow down the stairs two at a time—stepped
on my suspenders, went half way down, and
was precipitated to the- noxt floor, where I
brought up in the arms of a plump ohamber
maid, who was evidently wftitiiig bn purpose
to catch me.
Before I could resist, She had planted a.
sounding smack on my blonde moustache—
and cried delightfully to her companions—
‘ There 1 I’ve kissed him first!’
I mentally rejoiced that Matty Baker was
not present, and resolved that she should
never know anything about it. Matty is red
haired, and folks pretend to say that she has
a temper.
I freed myself from my saluting female and
advanced to tho door.
My appearance was greeted by yells and
shouts, and cheers perfectly deafening. Men,
women and children to tho number of sever
al score, were congregated in front of tho ho
tel, waving their hats and handkerchiefs and
hurrahing.
* There ho cornea I that’s him ? three times
throe for the conquering Sheridan !’
'* I’m obliged to you, gentlemen and Indies
—greatly obliged to you,’ said I, modestly
making my best bow.
‘lie conresj’ cried tho crowd, fcwaying
frantically about, and swinging their hand
kerchiefs most lustily. And I, not wishing
to ho behindhand in tho enthusiasm, pulledf
out my handkerchief and swung it, crying at
tiro fop of my Stings : .
* Yes, ho conics, ho comes ! Hurrah !’
‘ What a martial air,’ exclaimed an ancient
female, surveying mo through her glasses,
‘ he resembles the Duke of Wellington.’
*1 wonder if ire’s-married ?’ said a rosy
choekcd girl, in a cloud of yellow curls and
pink ringlets.
‘No, my darling,’said I, ‘but I want to
bo.’
‘Suclr a cdstumo,’said the.ancient lady,
‘Army blue, and such an original out to, tho
—the—coverings of tho lower extremities;
‘ B o'd massy 1’ exclaimed an eld lady in a
poke bonnet, fixing her eyes on my suspend
ers which hung down in front, ' do sco Iris
shoulder straps. X’yb hccru dttr Bavid toll a
sight about them tilings;’
‘ Y'es, but they look ail amazing lot like
Jerry’s givllcrsos !’ whispered another old la
dy to wirom the rcorark was addressed.’
‘Sir,’ said u sallow faced gentleman, ad
vancing to my side, ‘ I wish to mention to
you something which I have heard said of
you. I deem it my duty as pastor of the
Pinoville meeting house, to robuko sin, al
ways. I have heard it remarked that you
are profane among tho soldiers.’
11 do not cumnrchcifd you,’ said 1.
' All tlien I will bo clearer. I have heard
that you were addicted to the habit of uding
profane language, and I hog leave to present
to you this tract on the Sin of Profanity hop
ing you will peruse it, ami profit by it.’
‘Thank yoii,’ said I, ‘you nieitn Well
doubtless, but X must say I don’t exactly soo
thb point;’
‘ What is your opinion of Sherman ?’ rtsk
ed a brusqno little dandy, swinging his rat
tan, and removing hia cigar from his mouth
long enough to propound the question.
1 Sherman’s a trump 1’ said I with enthu
siasm.
1 Ah me;’ said my tract distributing friend,
* he plays cards as well as swears;’
‘What do you think of the negro face?’
asked a dark comploxioned nian.
‘ X think they smell stronger . than the
deuce,’cried X, beginning'to loose my pa
tience.
‘ Merciful heaven I’ exclaimed the sallow
faced man; ‘ ho is pro-shivery.’
1 Sir,’ said the landlord—who had been in
earnest conversation with a half dozen ladies
for the last live minutes—‘ those-ore women
folks wont bo satisfied without kissing-uf ye!
■Theyawant to have it said that they’ve kissed
Sherrydan.’ •*
X blushed up to the roots of nly hair. ■
1 Law; bow modest bo is,’ said one of iny
feminine friends. ‘ He’s as red as our gob
bler;’
The prospect of being'kissed by some of
those pretty girls was decidedly agreeable—
I felt delicious over it—’but those vinegar yis
aged old women. I shrunk from the ordeal.
But I am naturally a gallant man, and re
flecting that I could wash my face abundant
ly—l consented. .
* Como one, come all 1’ said I.
They obeyed. They flung their arms
around my neck, and surrounded mo on ev
ery band. I felt like a pickled sardine,- I
smelt musk, onions pnitehouly,“snuff, jockey
club, hard cider, cologne dough-nuts, boiled
mutton, cinnamon, mustard seed-, cardamon
buds and every other odor under the sun;
-Kissing is h grand invention, but there is
some choice in it, X think.
At lust, they hud all kissed itio but od'o, rend
.she was standing a little apart, making pre
parations. I noticed her with a mighty
trembling. She*was ugly as an ogre, and
the look of dogged determination on her wiz
ened face convinced me that.l need hope
othing from her mercy.
' [ never could tasto anything with my
teeth ip/ she exclaimed in an undertone* and
instantly came a full set of teeth, and she
rushed towards mo, I grow giddy with the
prospect, and turning I fled before her like,
the billows before a hurricane.
I had no thought fur,the figure I cut, my
only object was to got Out of her reach.—
Through the entry—down a flight -of back
stairs, knocking over the hostlerand the cook
who wore giggling together on the stops—
through the yard, where I left the larger
part of ray coat tail in the possession of a
covetous dog—and' over a fence into the open
country. And all tliff time I could hear the
steps of my pursuer close' behind mo.
‘ You may run,’ cried she, f but I'll catch
yp. It shan't bo said all the Wiraen in Pine
viJJo kissed General Sheridan but rao. I'll
do it or die.* ,
gracious!.so I had,been .taken* for
General Sheridan. No wonder the people
had turned out eu manse to welcome mo.
And still I hurried on. Tho snow was
deep—l was nocrly blown away, and ! sunk,
doopor and deeper at every step. My 'female
“OUR COUNTRY-MAY XT ALWAYS BE RldfllT—BUT RIQUT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY."
friend gained on me, and .just ns I fell head
long into a concealed mudholo, she grasped:
mo by the collar. And before I could oloar
myself, she had done the deed.
She hud kissed mo. The landlord had
followed just behind, and I offered him ton
dollars to get me to my aunt Nabby’a that
night.
He accepted the bribe, and just before day
break I sank at the feet of my rosboctod rel
ative.
1 lay abed for n week uftowurd—too much
exhausted to stir ; but I say a copy of the
Pinovillo Earjle, and in it tbo following par
agraph :
‘ Gross Imposition. —A low lu cd wretch
passing himself off ns General Phil. Shcrinan,
arrived in our village, and put up at the Wash
ington House, on Friday evening. There
was quite a demonstration among our citi
zens bofoco tbo imposter was discovered. The
bogus General has gone to parts unknown.—
It is supposed he was some drunken lunatic,
from bis conduct.’
I make no comments, but judgo ihy sensa
tions.
. Courting in Right Stvle. —‘ Oit eout, yon
nasty puppy—let mo alone or I will toll your
ma?’ cried out Sally . to her lover, Jake
-, who sat irhout ten feet from her, pull
ing dirt from tho chimney jam.
‘ I aren’t tcehiu you, Sal,’ said Jake. ■
‘ Well, perhaps you mean to nuttier,
do y,or ?’
‘ No, 1 don’t.* ~
‘ Cause you’re 100 trifnal scary, you long
legged, lantern-jawed, slab sided, pigeon
toed, gariglokneed owl, you—you haint got
a tarnel bit of sensegot along homo with
you.l
‘ Now, Sal, I love you arid can’t help it,
and ef you don’t let mo stay and court you,
my daddy will sue your’n for that cow ho
sold him t’other day. By jingo ho said-hb’d
do Iti’
‘AVell, look hero Jake—if you want to
court me you’d bettor do it as a white man
dobs that thing—don’t set off there as if you
thought I was pisen.’
‘ llow on airth is that, Sal ?’
‘ Why; sit right up hero and hug and kiss
riie ns if you really had some bone and sinner
rif iriau about you. Co you s’poso .a. woman
is only to look at, you fool you? No, they’re
made for practical results, as Cossuth says—
to hug and kiss and sioh like.’
_ ‘ Well,’ said Jake, drawing a long breath.,
‘if I must I must, for I do lovo Sal ——
and so Jake commenced sliding up to her
like n maple poker going to battle. Laying
his nrni gently upon Sal’s shoulder, wo tho’t
we heard Sal any—
‘ That’s tile way to do it, old lioss—that’s
acting like a white man orter.’
‘ Oh, Jerusalem and pancakes 1’ oxcln'med
Jake; ‘ if this ain’t better than any apple
sass over mrrm made, darned sight! Crack
oe, buckwheat cakes, slap jacks, and ’lasses
ain’t no where’long side you; Sal! Oh, how
I lovo you.’ Here their lips came together,
and tho report that followed was like pulling
a horse’s foot out of tho mire. Wo left.
Plausible Arguments.—Tom t B is a
listless, vagabond sort of fellow, who hangs
■about the stores in our village, and lives by
bis wits, which, bo it said, do not bring him
in any stupendous gains, nor, in fact, enough
to insure him always three meals per diem.
Hero is ah argument which won him a
good dinner, once upon a tiipe, and which,
lor its ingenuity, deserves embodiment:
Oue noon, a number of the villagers were
seated in front of the hotel door, and under
the shade trees, when Tom made bis appear
ance; looking lazy and hungry. Mr.— -
happened to hold a twonty-flvo cent stamp in
his hand at the time, and as soon as Tom’s
byes rested upon it, bd said :
‘ Jlr. : , Let mo have that for rt moment,
and I will show you something with it.’
Innocently enough, tho currency was
Handed him; which he immediately pocketed
after which unsatisfactory exploit ho went
off in Ills usual slouching gait toward tlio ho
tel refectory, undoubtedly intending to pur
chase with the newly acquired fortune a sav
ory dinner.
The following dialogue then ensued !
‘ Whore are you going, Tom ?’
‘ Going to dinner, I. reckon.’
‘ Give mo back niy money before you go.’
‘ Let mo see, it was yoii who gave it to mio,
wasn’t it?’ asked Toni, inquiringly.
‘ Of course it was,’, replied Hr.
‘ Then, if you gave it to me, I shan’t giro
it tiijpk.’
‘No, I only lent it to you.’
‘ Then,’ replied Tom, with a grin, ‘ I’ll
repay you when I’m able,’ and ho went to
dinner. ‘
Tho argument was unanswerable.
A Court Scene.— 1 William, look herd ;
toll us, William, who made you. Do you
know ?’ William, who’was.considered a fool,
screwed up his fade, and looked, thoughtful,
and somewhat bewildered, slowly answered,
‘ Moses, I s’spose,’
‘That will do,’ said Counsellor Gray, ad
dressing tho court. ‘Tho witndas says ho
supposes Moses made hint. That certainly
is an intelligent answer, more than I thought
him capable of giving, for it shows that ha
Ims some faint idea of Scripture, hut I sub
mit that it is not sufficieut to entitle him to
be sworn in ad a witness capable of giving
evidence.’
‘ Air. Judge,' said tho fool, * may I at the
lawyer ft. question V
* Certainly/ said tho Judge.
* tVal, then, Mr. Lawyer, who d'yo s'spqsri
made you?'. . • wffe
‘ Aaron, I s’poae/ said cohnsollo'r Gray,
imitating the witness.
After the mirth somewhat subsided, the
witness drawled out.
‘ Wei noow, wd do road, in the good hook
that Aaron once made a calf, hut who’tj
thought kho darned critter had got in hero ?’
Tho Judge ordered tho man to be sworn.
JohN Adams*—Mr, "Webster visited Mr.
Adams a short time before his death, and
found him reclining on a sofa, evidently in
feeble health. Ho remarked to Mr. Adams:
'* I api glad to see you, sir, and I hope yon
are getting along pretty well/
Mr. A., replied in tbo‘ following figurative
language r. -
* Ah, sir, quite the contrary. I find lam
a poor tenant, occupying a house much shat
tered by time. It sways a ; nd trembles with
every wind, and what is worse, sir, theland
lord, as near.as I can find out, don't intend
to make any repairs/
“ What a fine head your Jboy has,"
said ,an admiring friend. “Yes," said the
fond father ; “ ho is a chip of the old block ;
aint you sonny!" “ I guess so, daddy, 'causo
tenoher said yesterday I was a young block
head I"
OjF* Always giyo a narrow-minded man a
wide berth.-
CARLISLE, PA.. THURSDAY, JULY 6,1865.
, HIVE SUMMER DAY.
BY SYDIL PARK.
Wo bad found a pleasant foot path,
Loading out into tho wood,
Where tho oaks like mighty warriors
In their giant beauty stood ;
Where tho patches of warm sunlight
Shimmered down in waves of gold,
lighting up tho lonely fores 1 .,
Like a picture quaint and old
,And wo followed all tho windiaga
Of that foot-path 'ncatb the trees,
While the summer-winds were singing
’Mid tho restless shining Iparos—•
Still it seemed to us tho music
Floating through tho woodland diifa,
Must have caught tho holy sweetness
Of some grand cathedral hymn.
I can sco tho brilliant splendor
Ot that glowing sumpor-day,
As it cbtiios in rifts of lioAuty
Whoro the dreamy shadows lay,
•I can hoar tho music drifting
Very softly ’mid tho troos,
But my heart is keeping sacred
Dearer, brighter dreams than these
I remember that you gathered
Oaken loaves and blossoms rare,
And wo wovo a wreath between Us,
Which you placed upon my hair,
Saying words whoso earnest meaning
I had never caught before,— %
"I have loved you fondly, darling;
May I loVo you ovormoro V*
THE TWO COWARDS.
* I wag a coward! Wo weto botli 6ow :
ardg !’
So spake oar law tutdr, Moses Drake, and
thus ho continued:
Wo had graduated from Harvard, Laban
tied myself—and had oomnlenoed the prac
tice of law. We were neither of us married,
though wo wore anticipating that event. We
had a case in court—a case of trespass.—
Adams was for the plaintiff and I for the de
fendant. It was a weak and foolish coni
plaint, and Adams should not have taken it
fipi It .was merely a case of extortion. The
plaintiff hold a rod over the tack of the de
fendant in the shape of a bit of knowledge
concerning a private misstep of a former
time, and the present complaint was only a
seemingly legal way in which that other
.power was to bo used for the purpose of
opening a poor man's purse. At the trial I
exposed the trick, and obtained the ruling
out by the court of a scandal which Aduni/i
had planned to introduce as testimony. Of
v.iurso I was severe, and as my opponent bad
entered upon a very bad case, my strictures
cut home. I gained the verdict for my cli
ent, and people laughed at the foiled plain
tiff, and spoke lightly of his lawyer.
‘Thus it commenced. Adams cculd riot
forgive me for the chagrin I had caused him.
Ho had laid it up against mo and talked
openly about being revenged. This was on
the first of August. A month afterwards we
mot at a party, where the gentleman drank
wine, L ite in the evening Adams and I nitot
and a third person made some remark upon
the old trial, whereupon a fourth person
laughcd.and said I had done a great thing.
Afe flushed and made .an impu
dent reply, The reply was addressed to mo
and I answered. The two outsiders laughed
at the hit I had made, and Adams said
something more.-severe than •before. X re
plied to him. lie deliberately told mo that
I was a liar I
‘ I had been drinking wine and my blood
wrts boated. As that harsh, hard, cowardly
Word fell upon my ear my passion overcame
me. I struck Laban Adams' in the face, and
knocked him back against the wall. It was
a cowardly thing for mo to strike him there
in that Qompauy ; but X was too much excited
to reflect. I expected Adams would strike
baek but he did not. I was stronger than
he, though this consideration may not have
influenced him. His friends drew away and
I went out into the open air. As soon as the
cool breeze fanned my brow and eased the
heated blood away from my brain, I was sor
ry for what I had done, but it was too lato
to help the matter. I might have gone to
Adams and asked him to overlook the wrong
I had done, but I had not the’ Courage for
that: ft /
On the following morning 'ivfri.egd, named
Watkins, called upon mo and presented a
note from Laban Adams. I opened it and
found it to bo a challenge. I wap requested
to give satisfaction for the blow Iliad struck.
If I was a gentleman I would do so. If I
was willing, I might designate the tide and
place,-and select the weapons.
What should I do ?
What 1 ought to do was very plain; The
lessons of life which fond mother had
taught mo did not leave mo in doubt. I
ought to have gone to Adams and made such
an offer of conciliation ns one gentleman may
honorably make to another ; and if ho reject
ed that, I could have simply turned from and
refused to do a further wrong to right the
wrong already done. But 1 had not the
courage to do that- 1 —! was a coward. I fear
ed that my friends would laugh at m'e and
especial friends of Adams would
point at mo the linger of scorn;
So in the cowardice of my heart, I thought
I would be brave before the world, and I ac
cepted the challenge.
. 4 The sooner it is over ttio better/ remark
ed Watkins.
1 Certainly/I responded. • Let it be bn
this very day, at sunset; upon the river's’
bank, directly beneath' .tho Heart
Ledge. I will send a friend to you to make
further arrangements.'
‘ And tho weapons ?'
‘ Pistols/
And so it was fixed. An hour afterwards
1 found John Price, a young physician, who
agreed to act as njy second. He did not urge'
mo to abandon tho idea, nor did he enteFllio'
work as though he loved it, but ho did it be
cause ho fancied that 1 was determined, and
in case of aooident his professional service
might be of value. .
1 knb’w that Adams was a good shot, atfd
he know that I was tho same,- for wo had
practiced much together, so that there was no
advantage to either party in the weapons.
After dinner. Price came to me, and told
me all was arranged. Everything had been,
fixed as 1 bad planned, and Adams and his
second would bo on the ground at tho ap
pointed time;
After Price had gone I sat down ■ a’nd
wrote two letters. "What a coward 1 \uas to
write to them; Oho’was to my mother and
the other to tho gentle being who had prom
ised to be my wife. As 1 sit now and think
of that hour! shudder with horror—tho hour
I. wrote to ,my mother and my--bctrothed. : —'
What was.l about to do? lo fob them of
all earthly joy forever! And for what ?
Berouse I'hadnot the courage to be a bold,
frank man ; to obey my God and tho laws of
my country ! I was to bow before a wicked
spirit-—to offer my blood to folly, and my
hand to murder 1 •
White Heart Ledge was a light, perpen
dicular wall of granite rising above the river,
the top crowned with dark spruce trees. It
received its name from a peculiar mark,
where a mass of white quartz appeared, half
way up Ihe ledge, in the form of a heart.
’Late in the afternoon I was upon the san
dy shore beneath tho ledge; and almost at
the same time Laban Adams made his ap
pearance. Wc.wcro both anxious to be
thought brave men. He did not speak to me.
Our seconds conferred awhile together, and
then Price came to my side. • ,
* Must things go on ?’
I told him I did not know how it could bo
stopped. I lied ; for I did know.
He informed mo that if I would make tho
lease overture of petfee ho felt sure tha*t
Adams would accept it. . "
‘X think/ ho said, ‘ that Adams is sorry
for what has happened. You struck him,
and ho cannot retract/
* And ho called mo a liar P
‘ 1 know ho did, and I know he did wrong.
In fact, there was wrong upon bdth sides.—
Offer him your hand, and I think he will'take
it without explanation. 7
No; I would not do itl And why not ?
I wanted to do it! My heart urged mo to.do
it. The spirit of my dear mother, speaking
in those old lessons of love and blessing
urged mo to do it. God speaking through
His son, urged me do do it. The law of the
land urged me to do it.
And yot I would hot. t vVas afraid that
men would s*\v I was a coward. 0, what a
precious coward I was 1 • i ,
4 Yon arc both good shots/ added Price ‘
4 and if you fire together you may both fall/
But I dared not oiler tho hand of concilia
tion. I told him I was ready,
lie went back to Watkins, and pretty soon
they measured off tho ground—-twelve paces.
Wc were to stand back to back, those twelve
paces nphrt. We Were to turn at tho word
one, we were to raise our pistols at tho word
two, and at the word three wo wore to lire.
I caught the eye of Laban Adams as I took
my position, and I was sure no angry pas-'
Mon dwelt therein. For an instant tho im
pulse was in mo to drop my pistol arid offer
him my hand, I was sure he would nob re
fuse me. But I had not tho courage to do
it. I would rather do tho deep, damning
wrong, than do that simple Christian act of
love. ,
Our seconds Hesitated, as though they saw
whnt was passing in our thoughts ; but wo
offered no word, and they proceeded. Tho
word one was given. X cannot tell tho feel
ings that came crowding upon mo at tliat
moment. 1 st ,- od face to face with my broth
ers ; in a moment more wo were to offer our
hands to the infernal stains! I thought of
the holy love thet had beamed upon me
since I had grown to man’s estate; and I
thought that in one short moment more tho
black pall might cover it all.
Watkins was a long time in pronouncing
tho word two. Ho evidently hoped that one
of us would relent—but ho hoped in vain.—
Only n breath held back the last fatal word,
but that word was never spoken.
As wc raised our-pistols, n sharp, agonized
cry, from a breaking heart; burst upon the air,
and in another moment two light shadows
flitted upon tho scene. I was a prisoner—
Laban Adams was a prisoner. Our pistols
ay. undischarged, upon the ground.
Two gentle maidens, who loved us bettei*
than wo loved ourselves, and whose love had
led them to deep anxiety in our behalf, had
guessed our secret. Lnue has sharp eyes.—
Clara Wolcott know Laban’s hot temper,when
under strong excitement, and she feared
something of tins kind from tho first. She
hud only to whisper her suspicion to Mary,
and two sleepless sentinels were upon us.
These twd warm spirits, with their cries
and their tears, molted the joy crust, and
our hearts found the surface.’
4 0, in God’s name, bo enemies no mure!’
implored Clara.
4 By the love you bear mo—by tho memo
ry of all you bold dear on earth, and all you
hope to moot in heaven cast forth the demon
from j’our heart!’ prayed Mary.
In an instant I resolved to bo a man.—
With thoarms* of my beloved still encircling
mo, I stretched forth my hand; but I was
notin advance of Laban. As though one,
spirit had moved ns, oiir hands mot mid
way.
4 I hove boon a fool/ said Laban.
4 And I have been a fool and a coward, be
cause I dared not do right/
4 Aye - / I added, 4 had it not been for those
blessed angels, wo might have been some
thing worse/ , .
Wo returned from the dark ground just
as tho day was softening into twilight, and
from’ that hour Laban Adams and myself
were vast friends; and they who had saved
us from great crime entered upon tho life
path with Us, and have blessed us ever since.
Tun World Can Go On Wirnout Us.—
A brjuichj broken from the tree by the tem
pest, rode on the rapid current of the swollen
stream.
1 See bow I lead the Waters/ ho cried to
the banks.* ‘ See how 1 command nod carry
the stream with me," lie cried again.
AJutting rocky ridge, over which the tor
rent dashed, caught the branch, and kept it,
shattered and. impris'on’od, While th‘o waiters
flowed on and on.
‘ Alas !' cried the branch, * how can you
hold me thus.? Who will govern tho stream ?
how will it prosper without my guidance ?’
1 Ask the banks,' said the rocky ledge.
And tho banks answered :
' ‘ Many, like you, have been carried by the
stream, fancying that they carried it. And
as to the loss you will bo to the waters, don’t
bo uneasy. You are already forgotten, as
IftTb those who came before you, who came
"before you, n’nd as those will soonbo who
>may follow.'
An iNTEriESTiNO Dialogue. —Stephen Whit
ney, who. died in New York, recently, leav
ing ten millions, was once met by John Ja
cob' Astor* when tile following dialogue en
sued i •
1 Mr. Whitney, I hear you have retired
from-business' . This, was after his retire
ment,in 1837.
* Yea,' replied Mr. WhitnoV. ‘ I have re
tired.'
‘ And how much ate you worth ?' inquired
Mr. Astor. ...
- ‘About 55.000,000,' replied Mr. Whit
ney. /
After standingnnd thinking in silence for
a moment, ‘ Well/ said Mr. Astor, ‘I don’t
know but it.is just as well to retire on that
sum as it is to bo rich.'
A coachman, extolling ho sagacity
of one of his lioraos. observed that ‘ if any
body was to go for to use' him ill, lie -would
bfcaf malice like a Christian/
Wild RANKS?
Tho Now York Herald publishes the fol
lowing anecdote. It relates it ns a matter of
history :
When General Grant was about to leave
Washington to enter upon that sublime cam
paign which began with the battle of tho
Wilderness nnd ( ended with the downWl of
the rebellion', h ; o called upon Secretary Stan
ton to say good-bye. The Secretary was
anxiously awaiting him.
During the two and ivhalf years that Pre
sident. Lincoln and Secretary Stanton bad
managed the Eastern armies it was the firsts
point in their plans to keep Washington
heavily garrisoned with troops. Large bod
ies of men were stationed in the fortifications
around tho city and other large bodies were
kept in supporting distance. Now that Grant
had come into power Stanton wanted to see
that the defence of Washington was not over
looked. Accordingly, after a few prelimina
ries, tho Secretary remarked ;
‘ Well, General, I suppose you left us
enough men to strongly garrison the forts V
‘ No; 1 said Grant, coolly, ‘I can’t do that/
‘Why not?’ cried Stanton, jumping ner
vously about. ‘Why not? Why not?’ '
‘ Because I have already sent tho men to
tho front/ replied. Grant.
‘That won’t do/ cried Stanton, 9101*0 ner
vous than before. ‘ It’s contrary to my
plans. I’ll order them back/
‘ I shall need them there/ answered Grant,
‘ ami you carv’t ordbr them back/
‘ Why not?* inquired Stanton again. ‘Why
not? Why not?*. (
4 I believe-that I rank the Secretary in the
matter/ wag the quiet reply.
1 Very well/ said Stanton, a little warmly,
4 wb’U see. the President about that. I’ll
have to take you to the President/
. ‘That’s right / politely observed Grant,
4 the President ranks us both/
Arrived at the White House, the General
and the Secretary asked to see the President
upon important business, and in a low mo
ments the good-hearted face of Mr. Lincoln
appeared. >.
4 Well, ‘gentlemen/ said the President,
with a genial smile, 4 what do you want with
me V
4 General/ said Stanton, stiffly, * state your
case/
4 f have no case to state/ replied Grant,
4 I’m satisfied as it is thus outflanking the
Secretary, and displaying the same strategy
in .diplomacy as in War.
4 Well, ,\vell/ said the President, laughings
4 state your enso Secretary.*
Secretary Stanton obeyed : General Grant
said nothing ; the President listened very at
tentivedy. When Stanton had concluded, the
President crossed his legs, rested his elbow
on liis knee, twinkled his eyes qudftitly and
said: • ' • *
4 Now, Secretary, you know we have boon
trying to manage this army fop two years
and a half, and you know wo haven’t done
much with it. Wo sent over the mountains
and brought Mister Grant—as Mrs. Grant
calls him—to manage it for us, and now I
guess we had better lot Mister Grant have his
own way/
From this decision there was no appeal. —
Nobody ranked tho President. So General
Grant went off with tho army, and Secretary
Stanton went back to his office.
A Little Deaf. —ln tho olden time, be
fore Maine laws wore invented, Wing kept
the hotel at Middle Granville, and from bis
well stocked bar furnished “ accommodations
to man and boast/ 7 lie was a good landlord
but terribly deaf. Fish, the village painter,
was afflicted in tho same way. . .
One day they ,werc .sitting by themselves'
in the bar-room. Wing was behind tho
counter waiting for the next customer 1 ; while
Fish was lounging before tho fire, with a
thirsty look, casting sheep's eyes occasionally
at Wing's decanters, and wishing most de
youtly that some one would come in and
treat.
A traveler from tho South, on his. way to
lirandon stopped in to .inquire the distance.
Going up to the counter, lie said :
‘ Can you tell mo, sir, how far it is to
Brandon V .
* Brandy V says the ready.landlord, jump
ing up ; ‘ yes, sir, I have some,' at the same
time handiugdowu a decanter of tho precious
liquid.
‘ You misunderstand mo/ says tho strang
er. ‘ I asked how far it was to Brandon,’
‘ They call it pretty good brandy, says
Wing. * “Will you take sugar with it?'—
reaching tis he spoke for the bowl and toddy
stiek. .
The despairing traveler turned to Fish.
‘The landlord/ said he, ‘poems to be deaf;
will you toll me how far it is to Brandon V .
‘ Thank you,' said Fish,. ‘ I don't care If I
do take a drink witli you !'
Tho stranger treated and fled.
DD" ‘ That’s a very knowin’ hanimal of
yours/ said a Cockney gentleman to the keep
er of an elephant.
‘ Very/ was the cool rejoinder.
*'E performs strange tricks and hantics,
does ho?' inquired the’cockney eyeing the
animal through the grass.
‘Surprising;' responded tho keeper, ‘we've
learnt him to put inunoy in that box you sec
away up there. Try him with a dollar/
Tho cockney handed the elephant a dollar,
arid sdro enough he took it in his trunk'an'd
put it in a ho:£ high' out of roach.
‘ Well, that's wery hextraordinary, haston--
ishing truly I ‘Now,-let’s see him take it
out and 'and it back/
‘ IV O never learnt him to do that,’ replied
tho keeper, with a rogiiish leer, and then
lurned to stir up tho monkeys and punch ,the
hyenas. ; ■ ,
A Love Lettek. —Ooh, Paddy, owatc Pad
dy, if I was your daddy, I’d kill ye wid kiss
es entirely; if I was your brother, and like
wise your m'uthor, I’d see that ye wont to bed
airly. To taste of your bretb, I’d starve mo
to death, and lay off me hoops altogether.—
To joost have a taste of yor arm on me waist,
I’d larf at the meanest of weather. Dear
Paddy, be mine, mo own swate valentine ;
find me both giatle and civil, qurdifo
we’ll snind to an illegant ind, and care' rt:iay
go dance wid tho divil.
IC7" There is a very droll story o t a doctor
who went to settle in a village out west and
the first night on his,arrival was sent fur to
attend a sick child. Ho looked at the little
sufferer very attentively, and then delivered
this oracular opinion:
“ This hayr babe’s got the small pox ; and
I ain’t posted oh pustules. Wo must ap
proach the case by circular treatment. You,
give the little cuss this draught. That will
set him into fits. Then send fur mo. I’m a
stunner on fits.’
O*Light infantry movements—Agitating
a cradle with a baby in it.
Wlmt Can I Do?
BV ANCIENT SIMEON.
Arthur, a little boy six years old, being
out for a walk with his mamma ono morning,
they called on widow Grant and found her in
great trouble. • •
Her oldest son, George, had boon knocked
duwirftnd run over by a heavy cart, nnd was
so much hurt it was doubtful whether ho'
would recover, so sho was crying, ■ and felt
very sad, °
Arthur could not help crying too, when ho
heard the widow toll how tho accident hnn
pened, and the pain her boy suffered Ar
thur’s mamma often sent him down to tho
oottngo to ask after Georgo, and take him
Iruit, jellies, and other little comforts, and
one ddty ns she was filling a small basket for
him to take, ho said, “ I wish, ma, I could
do sometlung.for George—make him jellies,
and cake, and other nice things as you do/’
' W ell, Arthur, I do not suppose you could
make jellies, hut do what you can : there aro
other things ynuffcan do.”
l? can I do ? I cannot cook
at all; X think perhaps I ootild make a rica
pudding, hut not custards and beef tea. and
such things a? you send him.”
“ You seem to think, Arthur,” said Ins
mother, smiling, “ that eating and drinking
juid cooking are all important matters, but
1 was not thinking of them ; you can road ”
“ Oh, yes, ma j I am top in the third class
at school.”
44 And you have a half-holiday twice a
week/’
“ Ves, tna; Wednesday and Saturday.”
“ AVoil. now, would you. not liko to go ami
road to Goorgo on your Half holidays ? ho is
too weak to road himself, and Idaro say fools
rather dull whilst his mother is out at
work,”
“Just the Tory thing !” cried Arthur, who
was delighted to find tlicuc was something ho
could do, and as this was one of his half-holi
days, ho ffekod if ho might begin at. once. •
To this his mamma consented, and having
out “ Ministering Children” as a
book likely to interest George, Arthur was
soon on his way to the cottage.
Arthur’s proposal to road°was gladly ac
cepted by George, and as Arthur read slowly,
George yvna able to lollow him and listea
without soon getting wearied. And for sev
eral weeks Arthur gave up part of his play
time, that ho might read in the sick room,
until George recorbrclj and went to work
again ; and when Arthur grow up to bo d|
man, ho used often to refer to this, liis first *
lesson in doiit/j what 7m could, and sniilo at
his boyish folly in thinking that because ho
coulilaiot cook, therefore he could not do any
thing.
44 D0 good! do good there’s ever a way,
•A way where there’s ever a will ;
Don’t wait till to-morrow, but do it to-day.
And to-day when the morrow comes still.
41 Do good ! do good ! wo arc never too young
To be useful in many a away j
I or all have a heart, and a hand, nncl a tongaoj
To feel, and to labor, and to pray.”
ID" " Have a drop of tho crathur, Micha
el ?"
*' No, suro I'vo joined the timporanco
pledge."
."Yea; but didn’t St. Patrick advise Ta
mothy to take a little wine lor Ida stomach's
sake?.”
“ Maybcs he did ; but my name isn't Ta
mothy, and tbere’a-no throuble with ray stim*
a'ih." J
ID* “ Julius, can you toll mo how Adani
got out of Eden ?" ,
" Weel.l 'sposo he climbed ober de fence/'
“ No, dat ain’t it." 'j ..
‘‘Well, den ho borrowed wKec-barrow
and walked out."
“ No."
“ J it up don."
“ lie got snakedout."
There is a young lady in Henry coun-i
ty, Missouri, not yot sweet sixteen, who is
this year cultivating fifteen acres of corn.—
She does all tho necessary .work, including
plowing, and has undertaken this piece of
work to obtain money with which to educate
herself.
JC@T“A cute Yankee,’in Kansas, sells
nor in a gun-barrel instead of a glass, that
ho may avoid tho. law, and make it appear
beyond dispute than ho .is selling liquor by
the barrel. Of course the cute Yankee's cas*
turners are liable to go off half cocked.
ID* “ Doctor/' said a person once to a sur-
"my daughter had a terrible .fit thl*
morning; she continued half ah hour ntfc*
out knowledge or understanding,"
‘‘ O,". replied tho doctor, never mind
that 4, many people continue so all their
lives."
OCT 7 * A fellow who took tho mantilla from
tho jjoudoir <tf a pretty girl in Fifth Avenue,,
justifies himself on the ground that “ it is no
harm to steal from a thief;" as tho owner of,
has stolen the hearts of some
forty or fifty old bachelors. „
OD* It is a great blunder in pursuit of
happiness not to know when wo have got it,’
—that is, not to bo content with a reasonable
and possible measure of it..
HO* Say nbtliihg respecting yourself, eith
er good, bad, or iudiffereut j nothing good,'
for that is vanity ; nothing bad, for that is,
affectation; nothing indifferent, for that-is
silly.
!E7” A pedant being called upon to define'
the two gasses, hydrogen and oxygen, re
plied : ‘ Oxygon is pure gin, but hydrogen if/
gin and water.'
, • I.*
H 7” An inveterate old bachelor says ships
are called ‘ she’ because they always keep a
man on the lookout.'
07,. Why are young ladies like arrows?,
Beca’usd' they arb all in a‘ quiver when tlrb
beaus'come. , .
OTT” Sophia" Kettle has recovered $3,000 of
William Walsh, in a New ICorkr Court, for
refusing to marry her after promising! to,—f
Sophia’s courting.was effect, if Wib
liam’s wasn’t.
Ofy” No faithful workman finds'bis task a"
pastime. • We must all loibor steal—no mat
ter how we name our stealing;'
077“ A' Memphis paper beads Us list of dp
vorco cases in court, “ iletrimbbail Bhip'- ,
wrecks.” . 1
.J3fi£f“ tti is' safe to lonrn, oven from"
enemies but floldom safe to - icstrudtl
friStfdlr. •
NO. 3.