'' ' 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.