'' ' j■■ . , . "OUR COUNTRY—MATT IT ALWAYS BB RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY.” - . VOL. 51 - ■ .■'■■■’ CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 1865. I . ... -. . ; I|p RICAN VOLUNTEER. sometainc lefi' iindiJne. | , serpent fascination. ** r | • st. padl. m £>< LTBHED EVEIIY JtOYIKISm DT JOHN B. BRATTON. TEWS:' )iMJp.ftosr»—Two Dollars if paid within Ih ml Two Dollars and Pifty Ceuta, if not paid toe year. Those' terms will bo rigidly ndr > in every instance. No subricription dis >d until all arrearages are paid unless at ion of the, Editofy. • :rtisi£MßNTB—Accompanied by Ih'OCXSrr, arid coding one square, will bo inserted three >r $2.00, and twenty-five cents for each lal insertion.. Those of a greater length in ion. ’ Hand-bills, Posting-bills .-OHttphlcts, Blanks, Labels,; AcL'Ao., executed with fand at the shortest.notice. / M ■ ptm. ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW. 4m, j Oif HoroVs rock the prophet stood— The Lord be fore him passed ; 3 r hurricane in angry mood ' K»*» ® we hy him strong and fast; 3 |; forest fell before its force, * rooks wore shivered in its coarse, 211 Qod was not in* the blast; tl r but tho whirlwind of his breath, , mJ danger, wrecks had death. S : =lll ir. | It ceased. Thq air growTnuto—a cloud tor l Came muffling up:the sun , ; &i|*||When through the mountain deep and loud 8 An earthquake thundered on; • ‘ frightned eagle sprang in air, its., | wotf rin howling f.tm his lair &|j| God was pot * n *h e fl * orm > [ hat tho rolling,of his car, 1 trampling of his steeds from far. , irr. |-»Twas still again—and nature stood i hi; And calmed her ruffled frames, 1 swift from heaven a fiery'flood f To earth devouring cainoj ; the depth the ocean -fled, —, ' jick’ning aim looked wan and dead, - **°d filled not the flame; I tfirro ' his eye lightened through the troubled sky, rs',Ji ■ v V - *V last a voice all still and small 1 .Vtfilfiil Rose sweetly on the ear ; j.] roso so shrill and clear, that all for Xu hcaveu and earth might boar; spoke of peace, it spoke of love, on, I; *f*S»spoke as angels speak above, himself was there ! I- ’ waa a Author's voice jlup 1 . hade tho trembling heart rejoice. n -/V,u I col) col;- 0 nr2' ■ ■ 'JvjjS . , ; , . 3fikdlaneoufl. 1 ill cH- Vvftg EJIILI IOIIEISEA. 1 °^ en times there once lived two broth ' °^ w i lom 'vas rich and the other poor, n- [j v-SsK 0 Ghristraas was near at hand, the poor . S had not so much as a bit of meat or a cci,i j'j'mut of bread in the house, so he wont to his [iffe’Efir 101 ' a, "i begged him, in God’s name, to. him something. Now, it happened that j thls was not the first time that the rich bro -1 ha d given to the poor one something, yhe was not particularly delighted when bin* coming. ! cIJ J ou as i tell you,’ said he to his un ’ “ j jjJggßome visitor, ‘ you shall have a whole ham ' hanging up to be smoked.’ i/tP°. or brother said ho would do what ckw s9sila I<l hin i and.thank him to. . ’ it is,’ said the rich brother, flinging •j||SSi|ko liain, ‘and now gilto the infernal re •k<i^lfnco * ' ,a7 ° promisok it, I must,’ oh- the other, taking up his ham and go ay' -V ■ • v i-syoff-'# wandering about the whole day, just 1 °" | j ae.it'grew dark he perceived a bright light from him. be hero,’thought he. On going ;«WjjfliPrh»* further into the forest however, he urii nian - with a long white, beard, , i:‘ s®jSr M dotting wood. , , eyeing.’ said he, witfettfehm, powj f jening,’ replied them^^lWhither be'going?’ ‘ prodi I am only going to the lower regions; at) don't know whether I have come the j 1,.,,, way,’ replied the poor simple-hearted ■H- (sajwlf l ? B * y ou are quite right,’ said the old ’ the entrance is tight here-’ And added, ‘ wheii.you have got downbe- Xfbey will all want (to buy your ham, for Vs flesh is a great rarity there.; but Ist not sell it for money; but rather ige it for the old hapd mill that stands . the door. When you come up again teach you what to do with the mill, for its use I oaii'toll you.” filtering the underground dwelling 'ling happened just as the old man had m. All the imps, great and small, sd around, and began out-bidding each for the ham. ad intended feasting upon it on holy ias eve, with my wife,’ said the man; you seem so bent on having it, X’ni to .part'. With It, but I will not take ig in exchange except the ■ old band it stands behind, the door.’ chief imp did not,at all relish parting his iuill,. and he began to haggle' ana with the. man, but the latter reinaip ; so at jast the iinp was fain to let - e the mijlawny. When the man had id from the underground dwelling, he -he old wood-cutter how. to uso, the od when be told’liim he thanked'him iurned home, but, let hini make' wbiit he. Would; he did uot.reaoh it until, 12 lat night., • lere in thowhrld have you been ail this said his wife,' hs ho dime in ; ‘ Ive lotting bore and waiting hour.after hour .had not as much as 'a'couple.of splint lay. across epch other under tlitj gruel cook Qhristmas dinner.’* 1 1 • ,’ replied the man, ‘ I could not come , fori had some business to mind. and diged to go a long way about it Bat uli see what I have brought with mo.’ then placed the mill on the table and it grind, first of all, candles; then a •cloth; then fuodand beer—in short, all ras wanting for a,Christmas feast, and rer hie called fur the mill ground it im toly. -'nis wife stood' by, and crossed ■lf many'times over, and was very anx to know hew, her husband had come by 'h,. But this ho took care not to toll, matters hot how, I got it, wife,’ said he, 100 tf'io a good mill, whoso water doeh iso to flow, and that’s enough.’ an. cn. jplc, t And then hc-ground eatables and drinka bles, and every possible dainty for Christmas week; and on the third day he invited: his friends to a banquet. When his rich brother saw what a feast was in preparation ho turn ed hot and cold with vexation, for he grudged his brother the.least windfall. ‘On Christmas Eve,’said' he to the other guests, * he was so miserably poor, be came to ask, me. for a-trifle in Gad’s name, and now; all of a sudden, he is as grand as if ho had become an earl or a king? Then. turn ing to hie brother, be said.: . ‘ Whoro on earth did. you, got all these riches ?’ r ‘Behind the door,’ .answered the other, who had no. mind to let the cat out of the bag. But.towards evening, w'uen.be had ta ken; a drop too much, he could not keep his counsel any longer, but brought out his. mill. ‘ Here is the golden goose that has brought me all my riches,’ said he, and made the mill grind.first one thing and then another. On-seeing this, the brother, wanted to buy the miU of.him, bqt the ether would not hear of it at first. At.length, ho.wever, ns ; his brother seemed to wish for it so very much, be said he would take three hundred poun V. for it, only he bargained not to part with it till harvest time; ‘ for,’ said he, l if I keep it till then, I shall be.able to grind enough fur many ti year to come- ~ , r ' During this space of time, wo may e.vdljr imagine that the mill w." ■. not allowed to grow rusty, and when harvest time came, the brother had it given him, only the other.bad taken good care not to tell him bow he was to manage it.- It was evening when the rich brother brough t the mill home, and on the following morning he told his-wife that she might go into the field with the reapers, and that he would meanwhile prepare the dinner. To wards mid-day, therefore, ho: placed the mill on the kitchen table. * Grind away/ said he, 1 and let us have some herrings and a mess of milk* of the best sort. 1 So the mill to turn out herrings and milk, till all the. dishes and. pots and pons were filled, and at last the kitchen was completely flooded. The man kept trying to stop the mill; do what he would, the, mill did not cease grinding and at length the milk' had arisen so high that he was in danger of being drowned. Ho now tore open the chain-, bor door, but it was likewise inundated; and it was with difficulty that* he could'wade through the mllkey tide, and manage to un fasten the latch of the house door. No soon er had he opened the door,\ than. out ho ; rushed; still pursued by a'torrent of milk and herrings. And on he ran till he reached his brother’s ; and then he entreated his poor re lation for God’s sake to take His mill back ; * for it goes on grinding for another hour/ said he, * the whole village will be Inundated with herrings and milk/ But the brother refused to take back his mill unless the other counted him out three hundred pounds more, and as there was no help for it the rich man was fain to pay him the money. So, now that the poor brother had money as-well as the mill, he built a house that was far handsomer than the*' one his rich brother lived in. AVitli the help of the mill he collected so much gold that 1 tie -could-cover—thc-wolls-witU - plates- of gold, and his house stood near the sea shore, it could bo seen shining from a groat distance' at sea. All who sailed near the coast were sure to anchor in the neighborhood, and pay a visit to the rich mao in the golden house in order to see the wonderful mill. One day a captain, who, like so many oth ers, had come to see the mill, inquired after looking at it whether it could grind salt 7’ ‘Yes, it can grind salt aS Well as anything,’ said the man. r ' The captain then wanted to buy it at any price ; ‘ for,’ thought he, ‘ it*l had this 1 mill I should not bo obliged to sail so far over the rough seas to fetch salt. At first the man would not hear of soil ing it, but the captain teased so long that he consented to part with it for many thousand pounds. . As“the captain had obtained the mill, he took care not to .remain in the neigh borhood, for fear the man should repent of his bargain ; so without even stopping to inquire How he was to manage the mill he went back to bis ship and sailed away. On' reaching the main sea, ho took out his mill, and cried, ‘ Grind salt, and let it be prime stuff!’ And the mill began to grind salt till it split and cracked again, when the captain’found his ship Was full ho-tried to stop the mill, but in spite of all his endeavors, the mill went on grinding, and the heap of salt grew higher, till it finished by sinking the ship. So now the mill stands at the bottom of the ocean, and keeps grinding on at’ this very day, which is the reason that sea water is salt. Value or an Idea —“ A penny for your thoughts,” says the old saw, and the valua tion was doubtless full compensation for those that occupy some men’s mipds. But thoughts are worth more than : a penny now-a-daye, and the ideas which are suggest ed by thought represent millions.. The man who cot the idea of a clothes-wringer made money; Wilson of the. sowing machine, which bears his name ; Horace Thayer, who who makes the blacking bores with wooden bottoms ; the inventor of the swinging cigar lighter which we see in every store; all these can bear testimony to the value of ideas, ns connected with articles in daily use, relat ing to thojmprovement or entire supersession of them by better ones. No one should be deterred from putting his ideas into some tangible shape from the supposition that the field of investigation has been exhausted. “My sons," said a dying farmer, “ there is: a’ treasure hidden in dur fields, set to and dig fur it.” Thereafter they dug, but found no goldinstead, upon: the year ensuing the fields that bad been so thoroughly uphoaved returned a < thousand fold the seed that had been sown. ’ It is with ideas—thought breeds them, and from them may .spring the one golden beam which all men seek. Some men’s idoas run u|ion per petual motion ; these are idle dreamers seek ing ;_to accomplish what the laws of nature but others. more practical, turn their attention to the arts, to the sciences, and to real progress. These are theyj who shall win rewards; Not pence, but pounds; not shillings but dollars, attest in hundreds of instances the value of an idea as applied to improvements in the arts.— Scientific Ameri can. K 7” The hat was passed 1 around a certain congregation for the purpose of, taking up a collection. After it had made the, circuit of the church, it was ,handed to the-minister, who. by the way, had exchanged pulpits with the regular preacher, and he found not a penny in it. He inverted the hat over the pulpit cushion, and, shook it that its empti ness might be known ; then raising bis eyes towards the ceiling he oxolaimed l with groat fervor, ‘ thank God that I got back my bat from this congregation,’ now TUB. ENGLISH WORKING PEOPLE LIVE. Nothing can bo more surprising to the American people than the extreme indigency and physical degeneracy, of the British working people. Mr. Kay’s. work' on the “ Social condition and' education of the peo ple in England," published, last year in England, and reprinted in this country, some remarkable disclosures, bearing especially upon tho moral condition of these people,' At the close of his work Mr. Kay says,: “Tho poor of England are mbto do* pressed, more pauperized, more numerous in comparison to the other classes, more irreli gious, and much worse educated than the poor of any other -European nations, solely excepting Russia, Turkey, South'ltaly, Por tugal, and Spain. , . , The medical officer of the Privy Council in England is required to submit annually a report of the ptoceedings of that body. This duty ,;hns_: devolved. upop JMtr.;' John Simon, whose serioa of reports for the last fopr years ds d' harmonized body of practical informa tion on the causes and distribution of disease.- .His lost report, for 1864, is full of interest ing and important truth - respecting . the. amount and kind of food taken by tbo work-' ing -classes, ' As Mr. Kay’s book related to the causes leading to nforal degeneracy, this report ,is concerned chiefly with those which conduce to physical deterioration. For the' purposes of ‘ investigation inquiry was madh only 1 in a few households'which scorned tp ' bo fair samples of their -class. The inquirer set out with this theory, name ly, that to preyent starvation or the diseases connected with'it, a woman must have in her food daily three thousand nine hundred grains of' carbon, and one hundred and eighty of nitrogen,,or as:muoh nourishment as is contained in a half quartern loaf of bread. A m#h wants one ninth more. Forty two families of silk weavers were examined, and it .was found that these did not quite come up to this minimtim standard ; thirty-one families of needlewomen fell far short; of farm laborers’ families, more than one third were below .Ilia' mark. Of course this sacrifice of appetite would he made after every other sort of sacrifice had been made; aftdr necessary clothing and fuel had been dispensed with: ■ ■ It- was found nrnong silk weavers and twisters’that while ' oyer twelve poufida of bread " were necessary to each adult, little more thin nine were eaten. By buying food jn .pennyworths a gridt deal of money was Wasted. Ttie children working away from homo, .instead of taking with them' dinner prepared by the mother,-are supplied with three halfpence or twopence a day dinner-money, which they'spend at a cook shop—usually d penny upon pudding'dud a half penny upon potatoes. When they spend twopence they are permitted to sit down and have a little gravy or fat added to their meal. Of nil classes tho needlewomen faro the worst. They take to their calling when every other resource fails, and their average income is beioWfour shillings (less than one dollar) per whek ; sometimes, too, they are out of employment. They use a little over aii ounce of tea per day, into which they jyiroJy_put..milk.--_Of .meat_eomo—buy—two-- ounces.daily'; others a quarter of a pound of cooked meat 1 three times a week, dud twice that amount dn Sunday. ' Glove-stitchors, in. order to earn five shil lings mid'sixpence a week, are compelled to wotk from six in the morning until eleven at night; and even children between nine and fourteen years of ago are kept all day at this employment. ! As a general result of the inquiry among all these classes, it appeared that’of bread' the needlewomen ate least, the shoemakers most ; that of the persons interrogated in all classes, only four—three of , them being kid glovers—went wholly without sugar, the kid-glovers generally using least sugar, the needlewomen and stocking-makers fnost; the ■balance of carbon ia the diet being readjust ed in those cases by an exactly reverse pro portion in the use (Jjbuttor. Only in five of the whole number'of cases was there no meat at all eaten, and the- five were all found among the silk weavers of Macclesfield and Coventry.’ But twenty in every hundred ate butchers' meat in no appreciable quanti ty', preferring to use bacon; Beef of the or dinary strength was found to be drunk generally by the silk weavers of London, and by the shoemakers, and a very weak beef by. the stocking-makers of parts of Derbyshire. In half the families who were taken as fair types of the condition of the poorer laboring class, beer formed no part of the household dietary. . ■- In the case out-door laborers, where there istao't much meat used, itisuilcdbk'ed .for the Sunday’s dinner, usually the only pne fit which the whole family is coUOotod arid 1 sits together in unwonted ease. What 'is left front the Sunday dinner is on the following 'week days'the husband’s, and 1 whether he rakes, it with him bit by bit to bis daily din ner in the fields, or eats it at home, it is his, as a matter of course;, ungrudgod, The household faith is “‘'that the. husband wins the bread, and must have the, best food." His physical well-being is the prop’ of the house. If he has eaten up his remainder of meat or bacon by the middle of the week, and there bo butter: or cheese, he takes that for his dinner at the close of the week, and the wife and children at home are'then reduced to dry bread, which is con verted into a hot meal’by the use of tea. Of course this state of affairs is a great hinderance to marriage, A man alone can subsist comfortably, and the temptation to remain single is reluctantly overcome, when by marrying he is certain to deprive himself of food l absolutely necessary to health. The, farm laborer, apart frpm a family, is adequately fed, long lived and lit tle'troubled w>th sickness. When he takes hisimeals at the farm-house, this risk in the way of diet is from overfeeding. He has usually four meals a day— moat and. bacon once;-, twice,, and even three times a day; milk twice a day;'puddings or pies three times a day in Devon; and usually daily elsewhere ; beer cider 1 or also. : In Yorkshire he is found to get 1 cheese-cakes and custards almost doilyat breakfast and dinner, or even to take an hour’s nap'after dinner. He ob jeots’tO mutton because it- is fat; and throws the fat under the table. Living in this sump ’ tuous manner, he will put off as far as possi ble the' evil day which shall bring poverty and starvation. Comment upon this state of society is needless, but, it is with gratitude that we compare the happiness'of our own wprkifag people with that of the English poor. _ The emigrant bound for America, even in those troublous times, may well be regarded as both wise and' prudent.— Scien-, lific Aniericahi . O” A Danish writer speaks of a hut so miserable that it did not know which way to fall, .and so, kept standing’. This is like £he jpaq.that had euch’a complication of diseases’ l thpt. he did not know what to die of, and so lived on., ■ 1 ItENRV* W. I.ONGFEF.LOy, Labor with what zeal wo will*-. Something still remains tmaono j Something, uncompleted still, Waits the rising of the sun.j By t’io bedside,-on the stair, • At the threshold, near tho gates, With its menace or-its prayer, Like a mendicant it waits.* Watts, and will not go away-r- Wftits, and will not bo gainsayod* By tho cares of yesterday Each to-day. is heavier made. Till at length it is, or seems. Greater than our strength can,bear— As the burden of r Pressing on us every whore! And froth day to day* Like tho dwarfs offlines gone by, Who, as Northern legends say, .On their shoulders bold, sky. THE MAIDEN AND THE HERO. On tho night Of tho battle* of Brandywine, I was sent with n message from Gen. Green to Count Pulaski, a noble Polander, who took a prominent part in our struggle for freedom. He was quartered in a neat farm house, near the upper forts; After our business Was fin ished, the Count asked me to .take some re freshments, and at the.same time called out; ‘ Mary, my lass Mary!’ In an instant a rnsv-oheeked girl entered, her face beaming with .jov',it-would seem, at the very sound of Pulaski’s voice. _ ‘ Did you call mo. Count? said tho maiden timidly. •How often have I told you, littleilove, ’ ho, bending his tall form to kiss.her cheek, ‘ not to call mo Count; /call me dear Pulaski. This is a Republic, my little fayorito ; we have no Counts, yon know.’ . ' 1 But you are a Count, air, when at homo, and they say yon came a long way-over the ocean to fight for. us.’ " ■ ■ ' . • ■ ‘ Yes. Mary,, very true—l dideome-a long way—the reason was I had to come, /.Now, can you get for this'gentleman and myself a little refreshment? lie has.a Jong way to ride to-night.’ . ; . Certainly, sir,’ and she went ont of the room like a fairy. • ‘Fine, pleasant girl,*’said Pulaski.* ‘would that I had the wealth that I once had ! I would give her a portion that would send half tho youth hereabouts alter her sweet face.’ On the morning of tho 11th of September, 1777, tbo British army advanced in full force to Chadd’s Ford, for the purpose of crossing Brandywine Creek, and,bringing on an ac tion with Washington. Sir’William Howe drove Maxwell's division aonss tho creek by ten o’clock at one of the lower fords. The Hessian general, Kniphausen, with a fnpPA, atlynnood, .upon ( ilto oroolt, and uniting with Lord Cornwallis, who coinman ded the left wing of the army, crossed at the. upper ford of the river and'crock. It so hap pened that.during the .conflict, when.carry ing, orders.: I ,passed immediately, in the di rection of Pulaski’s quarters, that I had vis ited the night before. Suddenly a sheet of llama burst forth : the house was on fire.— Near the door-steps lay the body of Mary, her head cut cpen by a sabre, and her brains oozing out of the terrible wound. I had been there but half a minute, when General Pulaski at the head of a troop,of Cavalry gal loped rapidly to the bouse. Never shall I forget the expression of his face, ns he shout ed like a demon od seeing the inanimate form of Mary: ‘ Who did this.?’ A little boy, who had not been before no ticed, lying on the grass with his leg dread fully mangled, replied :' ' ' ‘ There they go I’ , - lie pointed to a company of Hessians, tfitfb some distance off. * Right wheel—men, charge!’ ' And they did charge. Imo not think that ,one,man. of the Hessian corps ever left the field except to be placed in the grave. The last of Pulaski was on the battle ground of Brandywine. He and his sweet Mary fell on the same field; A Romance of a Pickpocket. —A Tale of Crime and Misery -About .four years ago a young girl, surpassingly beautiful and very aristocratic in her carriage, was' arrested by' the police and brought before ■ a Judge in this city "on a .charge of picking pockets. When before' the court the girl, who caraq to the bar weeping piteously, for n hearing, her beautiful black eyes red with toilra and her form trembling, gave her name as Adelddio Irvjri. She said'she was a tool in the hands of her s.tepmother, who had taught, .her the profession, and compelled her,, to, go out picking pockets. Her apparent artlessness of demeanor arid simplicity, logethei with her youth and beauty, induced the magistrate to suspend sentence. But a few' months elapsed, however, before Adelaide, as pretty as in days of yore, was caught again plying her trade, and, pleading guilty, was-sentenced by the court to six months imprisonment in the penitentiary. Here she managed; by her great beauty ond fascinating manner, to ensnare the relative of.-one of her. jailors, who, at the expiration pf her term of service, married her. The innate evil in Adelaide’s nature was, however, too strong to be sup pressed. She abandoned her husband and plunged to the neck'in the whirlpool of vice apd licentiousness. She was two weeks ago apprehended picking a pocket bn a, steam boat. On her arrival at the city prison , a loathsome disease broke out upon her, render ing her blind ; she; however, refused to al low the, physician to see her; and thereby in duced the belief that she was shaming. One morning, blind and tottering, With the halo of her beauty still surrounding her, she was brought into the court of general sessions, and at the ago of nineteen, sore and deorepid, without a'soul to wish her God 1 speed or drop a tear of sympathy with her, she was sentenced as an incorrigible thief to the. State prison for two yenrs. Verily, the way of the transgressor is hard. (ET” ‘ Ah; Jemmy, Jemmy, said the Bish op of Berry to a drunken blacksmith, 1 1 am sorry to see you beginning y.ont evil course again ; and Jemmy, I am very anxious to know what you intend to do with that fine lad, your eott/ , . ‘I intend,'sir, said Jemmy, ‘to do for him what you cannot do for your son.', , ■. 'Eh l eh 1 How’s that—how’s that?’ To which Jemmy, with a burst .of genuine feeling, replied, ‘ I intend to , make him a belter man than his father?’ , ■.,. SQf The surest’way to lose your health is to be frequently drinking.that of other.folks. Business led .me to cross the Chilhowco Mountain, in Tennessee, on the 27th of Juno, 1857. When near Montudle Springs, two birds were noticed at'a couple of rods* dis tance from tho road, which were acting in a manner new and strange to mo. They were m an open space, near -the stump of a fallen tree, but did not take flight at my approach, as under ordinary circumstances they Would have* done. On reaching a point opposite to them it was npticed that they were the brown mocking-bird, or thrush, and that a very large black snake lay coiled at the oido of tiro stump. _ On seeing mo it suddenly began to’ uncoil t itself and move off as if to make its escape ; the birds, at tho same time, pausing a moment in their movements. But before it had stretched itself to more than half its length they wore again in motion, and flow at it in the most energetic manner. Instant ly.tho snake once more whirled itself into coil in its former position. The male bird then commenced to run and skip with great activity, in a semicircle, the serpent being the centre, and gradually closed in until with in a foot or two of its coils, when, with a sud den dart forward, the bird thrust its head to ward that of the snake, and, in the same in stant, throw itself backward, alighting on. the ground at the distance of about ten. feet. Before tho male had closed its feat tho female hnd commonced a similar set of actions. All the movements of the birds were made with extended wings, ns if ready to fly in a mo nient.i By the time tho female had thrown itself back from tho snake, the male was in position again, repeating the same movement ns at first. In the me ultimo ray horse had carried me some four or five rods into a thic ket of whither my hand bad guided him, and where I dismounted and secured him. All this took place in a minute or two, and ns only an indistinct view had been gained of the notion of the birds in passing, a favorable position for observation was taken, no that all that occurred could be noted. The first movement'of the male bird, in thrusting iti head forward in close contact with the snake, impressed mo with the conviction that a case of tho so-called fascination.was enact jng before me, and I determined to observe it in a philosophical manner. It was half-past one o’clock, p. m. The "hirdsworo still eager at work when I turned my eve upon them after the interruntion of hitching my horse. They wore panting, as if greatly fatigued by long exertion, but ma nifested not the least disposition to remit their efforts. If not fascinated, they wore at least so earnestly enlisted in the affair on hand as to disregard.every thing else around them. The snake lay in its coil, with head erect and thrown back, so as to bo in the best possible position to strike and seize the birds as they advanced. The many convolutions of its lengthened body moved in graceful curves, as its glittering head followed their niotions. Its eyes sparkled in the sunlight like, the polished diamond, while its move ments gave to its ever shifting scales the bril liant hues of the rainbow. Again and again, a° the birds approached, it would strike at them with optin'mouth, exhibiting a maligni -ty of-disposition that-portended death tothein had they been .seized in its jaws. | A few minutes sufficed to show that a bat tle and not a scene of fascination was pre sented before mo. The birds, at each ap proach, struck the snake with their beaks, or with their talons, when, generally, but not always, it dartoi forward at them, only to find that it was aiming nt a movable target. This can bo,easily explained. The snako in striking could never project itself more that? about two-tliirds of its length, but its defense was made with determined courage. Its po-' sition by .the stump protected it,in the rear, so that the birds Could only approach it in the front. They were as adroit in their at tacks as it was resolute in its defense. In attempting to seize them it could not curve to either side after starting, so as to follow their motions, but invariably shot forward in a straight lino to the point they occupied when it made its spring. The birds in ad vancing to the attack by a circular movement were certain »f being away from the spot at which it aimed, and when its teeth smaeked together where it expected Us prey, it had nothing in its grasp. ’ The warfare lasted, after I reached the spot, about twenty-five minutes by the watch. Once or twice during the contest the reptile made a movement to escape up the hillside, bat:the birds, ns nt its first attempt, immedi ately brought it into position again. 'At last, seeming to despair of success in securing a dinner in that locality.it darted off down the hill toward a grove of trees and bushes, not turning to the right or left. The birds swept after it, pecking, scratching, and striking it with their wings, as if inspired with the con sciousness that victory was theirs. At this, moment I rushed forward and, af ter some difficulty, killed the snake and cut it open. There was not a particle of food from one end to the other of the intestinal canal. It must therefore have been hungry, and if it possessed the faculty of charming it would undoubtedly have employed its powers on such a delicacy ns these birds. When the dissection of the snake was fin ished the birds wore not to bb seen. It was the season when their young were in the nest; and doubtless the conflict which had just terminated had been waged for the pro tection of their offspring. Less active birds, venturing as close as they did to their enemy, must have been captured. Remaining most of tho summer iu the mountains of North Carolina, frequent oppor tunities were afforded of inquiring of hunters and others what they know about birds.being charmed by serpents. All believed in tho theory of fascination, and several Had wit nessed encounters such ns I have described ; but none had ever seen the snake seize tho bird. They had looked on until the bird, ns they supposed, wna attompting to thrust its head, under the influence of tho charm, into the serpent’s mouth, when they had rushed forward and killed the serpent to save tho bird from destruction. In all the inquiries made no instance has been related where there was any more evidence of fascination than in the one observed by myself. Ih : all cases, however, there was a singular unifor mity in the descriptions of the manner in which the birds fluttered around the snakes. So nearly did their accounts correspond with what I had Witnessed that I was convinced of tho truthfulness of their statements.—-Ameri can Monthly. An Editor in Maine has never been known to drink any water. Ho says ho nev er heard water being used as a general rem edy but puce—in the lime of Noah—and then it killed more than it cured. B&" Mrs. Davis writes to a. relative in Philadelphia denying positively that her husband was arrayed in her clothes ; he had his own dressing gown on when bo was cap tured—ho was sick at the time. We have no very trustworthy sources of in formation as to the personal apptearanee of St. Paul. Those whioh wo have are the early pictures and mosaics described by Mrs. Jameson, and passages from Malalas, Nice phoros, a (id the -apocryphal Ada Pauli el Theclm, (concerning which nee also Oony boare and Howson, i, 197.) They nil agree in ascribing to tho Apostle a short stature, a long face with high forehead, an aquiline nose, close and prominent eyebrows. Other' characteristics mentioned nro baldness, gray eyes, a clear complexion, and a winning ex pression. Of his temperament and charac ter St. Paul is himself the host painter. His speeches and letters convey to us, as wo read them, the truest impressions of those quali ties -which helped to make him tho great' Apostle. Wo perceive the warmth ,and ar dorof his nature, his deeply affectionate dis position, the tenderness of his sense of honor, tho courtesy and personal dignity of his bearing, his perfect fearlessness, bis heroic endurance; we perceive t!.e rare cnmhinatioa of . subtlety, tenacity, and versatility in-his intellect; we perceive also a practical wis dom which wo should have associated with a pooler temperament, and a tolerance whioh is seldom united with such impetuous convic tions. And tho principle which -harmonized all these endowments and directed them to a practical end, was, beyond dispute, a knowl edge of Jesus Christ in the Divine Spirit.— Personal allegiance to Christ as to a living Master, with o growing insight into the rela tion of Christ to each man and’to the world carried tho Apostle forward on a straight course through every vicissitude of personal fortunes, and amidst tho various habits of thought which he had to encounter. The Oonyiction that he had been intrusted with a Gospel concerning p -Lord and Deliverer of <fnen was what sustained and purified his love for his own people, while it created in him such li love for mankind that he only knew himself as'tho servant of others for Christ’s sake. A roniarkablo attempt has recently been made by Professor Jewett, in his Commenta ry on some of the Epistles, to qualify what he considers to be the blind and'undiscrimi pating admiration of St. Paul, by represent ing him as having been, with nil his excel lencies, a man “ whoso appearance and dis course made an impression of feebleness," " out of harmony with life and nature,” a confused thinker, uttering himself “in bro ken words and hesitating forms of.speech, with no beauty or comeliness of style," and so undecided iu jns Christian belief that ho was preaching, in the fourteenth year after his conversion, a Gospel concerning Christ which ho himself in four years more confess ed to_ have been carnal. In those paradoxi cal views, however. Professor Jewett stands almost alone ; the result of the freest, as of the most reverent of the numerous recent studies of St. Paul and his works, (among whioh Professor Jewett’s own Commentary is one of the mostinteresting.) having been only to add an independent tribute to the an cient admiration of Christendom. Those who judge St. Paul as they would judge any oth cr remarkable man confess him umuiimous-- ly to have been ** one of the greatest spirits of all time;” while those who boliovo him to have been appointed by .the Lord of mankind and inspired by the Holy Ghost to do a work in the world of almost unequaled importance are lost in wonder ns they study the gifts with which ho was endowed for that work, and tho sustained devotion with which he gave himself to it.— Smith's Dictionary of the Bible. A Romance of the War. The Poughkeepsie (N. X-) Eayle tolls the following story: “Xu tho year 1801, when tho first call for troops was made. James Hendrick, a young man of 18, resolved to leave his father’s roof in Wisconsin, and go forth to battle for the flag. At tho time men tioned he was attached to a young girl of nearly tho same ago of himself, whose pa rents were rated among the ‘rich ones’ in that section of tho country. Her name was Ellen Qoodridge. Previous to leaving for tho seat of war he informed her of his inten tions, promising to return in a few months. After the first battle of Bull Run, his regi ment was ordered to Washington, and re ceiving a lieutenant's commission,‘Hendrick resolved to enter the service for three yeprs, and wrote to his. parents and sweetheart to that effect. The news was received by tho girl with foreboding, and she resolved to ac company him. She immediately acquainted her parents with her resolve, and they, in re ply, turned her from the house, and bade her never come back. , “ Slio wont, and finding out her lover’s regiment, obtained permission to do the cooking at the Colonel’s headquarters. She followed the regiment through the battles of Gettysburg, Antietam, Fredericksburg, the Wilderness, Cold Harbor, Petersburg and Richmond ; and in the intervening time wont out with young Hendrick in many skirmish es and raids—in one of which shq was wound ed in the arm, the ball making a very bad flesh Wound. After Lee surrendered the ob ject of her choice was taken deathly sick, and was forwarded in an ambulance to Washing ton, where he was placed in the hospital.— Here again her noble heart showed itself.— She watched over him, bathed his fevofed brow, rend to him, wrote homo letters for him, and on Thursday last with a broken heart closed his eyes in death. The day be fore, da Episcopal minister joined the two in marriage.—he dying with n painful disease, and she nearly crazed with the thought that after four long years of suffering, bo for Whom she bad given up home, friends, every thing deaf on earth, and for whom slio had braved every danger,- had gene to- another world.. ■“ The peer girl passed up on the Hudson- Kiver railroad on Thursday, for her homo in the far West,- hot knowing or haring What sort of a reception awaited her there.” A Good' Bargain.— A good story is told of a Vermont farmer, who' bad a dog to sell, but wh'o set an excessive value on the animal according to his neighbor’s views. His price was one hundred dollars. .He was frequently offered thirty and thirty-five dollars, which bo refused, and always assured bis friends he would get his price for the dog. One day he returned from n journey, and immediately proclaimed that ho had sold his dog for one hpndred dollars. “Ah!” said his neighbor, “did you get cash?" ' “ Ho,” said the farmer, “ not exactly cash, but its equivalent.-” , “ Well, what did you got ?” persisted the friend. “ Why, I got two fifty dollar dogs/’ E 7" How to make people'acknowledge the corn--troad an their toes. 1C A gentleman is one who combines a women’s tenderness with map’s courage. Tlie Gambling at Saratoga. A Saratoga visitor writes concerning the gambling facilities at the Springs this sunl mor: “ Tim present promises to bo the flusliost ! gambling season ever known. Greenbacks . are plenty, the facilities for gambling are ample and enticing, business is dull, the wap 18 over, time hangs heavily—hi short, all , things are propitious for the sporting elo f merit, and the taste for hazard is spreading under the adroit influence set in motion;-t buoh.a moral reaction as wo are now. os poricnoo might have been expected to follow the closing up of a great calamitous war. I believe that there are now about fif teen or twenty of the fiery ftlrnaces in full ■ blast hero and at the lake, whither all visit ors at,the hotels take frequent rides about sundown or twilight. In order to transact I isinoss without risk of coming to a sudden dead look, these banking institutions have to hold a large cash capital, varying, of course, in amount, according to the class of game sters who patronize them, ft is probable that Upwards of bf 1,000,000 is this season in vested in this usually highly lucrative trade i and as fifty per cent, is hut a moderate esti mate of the average actual earnings of these establishments, it follows that, if tho season continues brisk, mauy hundreds of thousands will be deposited to the'tiger’s account with in the period dating from July Ist to Soptem bor loth. The luxurious stylo in which the club housed arc conducted renders them pla« cos of curiosity for nearly all persona. The hotel tables aro simple as almshouse boards in comparison with tho epicurean displays made Morisey’s, and elsewhere,—* The choicest Iloidsick, Munim, or MorccauS flows in streams as tho tempting game, fl'Csh from the Adirondack region is served Up hot on silver plates that a duke might covet.- While poor liquors and abominable cignrs are sold at oldiiichmond prices in the hotels* tho most fragrant Havanas/Figaros and Es panolas, and tho costliest brandies, are urged* upon tho guests at tho tigrino mansions.—* Iho parlors and reading rooms are carpeted a la Fifth avenue, and rich frescoing gives life to the walls, Tho furniture is tempting to tho weary or the lazy dropper-in. Tho easy, quiet manner of the host, tho assiduity and promptness of his corps of trained wait* ers, and the genial atmosphere of high re spectability and refinement, prove all-power* ful charms to youth, to matured men seeking relaxation from the turmoils of business, and * especially tb those who have borne tbo hard ships of camp life, and are onco more free to follow caprice or inclination. Let tho reader fancy another picture, if he can,.wherein a heart-broken wife, a ruined family, are cast frbin position, from comfort, from friends* by tho mocking .demon of tho cards. Lett him reason out’ the dismal sequel to tho glit* tering chapter of fast life at the Springs, and draw such rabral from this rapid sketch-a? best he can/ 7 Kaisinq Calves. —A correspondent of thoi Germantown Telegraph thus describes hia method for raising calves t A calf that l am going to raise I never lot Buck tha cow. Jft is muoh easier, to'teach it to drink without than after sucking. I havo had" calves drink alone before they woro twelve hours old-; and after the second day have ■ but little' trouble with them, ns they drink freely if in good health. Besides tha great advantage of this is, that when they are turned with the cows they never troublo" them, neither have I to muzzle them to pre vent their .sacking, ns they know nothing about it. For the first two weeks I gave them milk drawn from tho mother ; after that tho cud conies, then I scald a little bran or ground outs aud corn cake moal, etc. This mixturo I have about milk warm, feeding,them three times n day, making fresh each time, as they do not relish stale food. They will soon eat a little hay ; oloyer is best. If there is grass I tie them out for a short time, and in sis weeks they may bo loft to run, and then slop gradually slacked off. I consider March the best time jo start and by the following, winter they have a good beginning. The Decat Of Coxtcrsattos.— The ancient art of talking is falling into daoay, It is an as certainable fact that, in proportion to an in* - created amount of population, tha aggregate bulk of conversation is lessening. People now-ad-ays have something -else than talk ; not only do they live in such hurry that there is only leisure for just comparing ideas as to tho weather, but they havo each arid all a gross quantity to do, which puts talking out of the question. If persons remain at home, they read; if they journey by rail, they rend; if they go to tho seaside they read ; wo have mot misguided individuals out in tho open fields with books in hand ; young folks have boon stretched underneath trees, and upon tho banks of rivers, poring over pages on tha tops of mountains, in the desert,- or within forests—everywhere men pull printed sheets from thoir pockets, aud iu tha earliest, latest, highest occupations of lifer they road. Tho fact is oonlcstably true that modern men and women' arc reading them selves into a comparatively silent race. Read ing is the great delusion of the present time f it has become a sort of lay piety ; according: to which the perusal of volumes reckons as good Works; it is, in- a word, the superstition of the nineteenth century.— Ghamler’sf Journal. XT' ‘ A. country schoolmaster,-ohedHy off-' nounoed to his pupils that an Ox-im-Mutibn would soon take place. ‘lf you arc - ftam ined in geography,’ sard he, ‘ you will surely' ho asked of what shape is the earth and 1 if you should not remember, just look at me, and I will show you my snuff-box, to remind you that it is round.’ Unfortunately, the sohooliriaeief had two snuff-boxes ; a round ono, which ho used on •ly on Sunday, and a square one, whioh he carried during the week. The fatal day having arrived, the class in geography was duly ohlled out, and the ques tion asked, ‘ what is 1 the shape of the earth V The first boy, appalled at the imposing, ap pearance of thp examining: committee; feft embarrassed and glanced nt the' * magister/ who nt qnco pointed to his snuff-box. * Sir,’ boldly answered the boy, * tie round on Sunday, and square all other days in tha week.’ Release of General Ewell.— Gen. Ewell,, a prisoner of war, having, taken- the oath of allegiance and given bonds that the will re spect it, his Keen permitted by the President to return to his home in Virginia. !C The shoddy party of Union county, through thoir return judges of their nomina ting election, have declared in favor of negro suffrage. To have a frightful dream is & glen you ate too much supper.,. ISO; 19.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers