& Nv.U-'j vol. m . _Y OLUNTEEiI.' \j PUBLISHED EVEHT THUnSDAV MOHMINQ TIY JOHN B. BRATTON. ' I £ TERMS: Subscription.—Two Dollars if paid within tho « 4y° ar j and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid B>witlim tho year. These terms will bo rigidly ad hered to in every' instance. No subscription dls •, until all arrearages ore paid unless at ’-Mbe option of tho Editor. ’''■tttipf- An vmitis i!mi!n*ta■ —Accompanied by tho cash, and "''J-vAiot exceeding one square, will bo inserted throe for $2.00, and twenty-five cents for each - "Additional insertion. Those of a greater length in : 'VV/.' Job-Printing—Such ns Hand-bills, Posting-hills -■’ pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c. &c. t executed with ' '-itbcuraoy and at tho shortest notice, < h THERE IS NO DEATH. Thoro is no death ! The stars go dowri j-L ' To riao upon some fairor shore; And biight-iri JloavenVjewelled crown Thoj Bhine«forovcrmoro, There is no death ! The dust wo tread Shall change beneath the summer shower, ' To golden grain or mellow fruit, Or rainbow tinted flower. y. ‘■'■J.i'W -,&• The granite rocks disorganize To feed the hungry mess they boar; rr The forest loaves drink daily life ".rA'fpj l From out the viewless air. . There is no death ! The'leaves may fall, The flowers may fade and pass away; They only wait through wintry hours, The coming of the May. There is no death I An angel form iJ* Walks o'er the earth with silent tread. Ho bears our best loved things away. And then we call them “ dead.” Ho leaves our beats all desolate, Hs plucks our fuiresh sweetest flowers; vrpfs Transplanted into bliss, they now ’ Adorn immortal bowers, , Tbo bird-like voice whoso joyous toned I';,-:# lip' Made glad this scone of joy and strife, Sing no.w iu everlasting song ‘Amid'tho tree of life. And when He secs a smile tco bright, ; Or hearts too paie fur taint and vice, bears it to that world of light, v.vfe To dwell in Paradise,’ \ Born into that undying life, They leave us hut to come again; With joy we welcome them the same. Except i*i sin and pain. .‘4J1 1 And ever near us, though unseen, V:v!«s The dear immortal spirits tread; r l 0 boundless Universe '■Hit'/ Ip life—there are no dead! lI—' 1 —' 1 1 1 ■■■■' h 3fcfellan?nm '— ~~ :||g THE CASTLE OF DEATH. Wl nv ANSON U. 80UER8, Wl ‘ ... i,w Somo years ago I left my native city, ana i>iinccompameil by my servant —a wild and lrishman, named Bill Fi ;lvjnane—started on a travelling excursion through Mexico. After many days of weary ,>o:i#ravol wo reached that wild and uncivilized i?<)Omitry. ■ysOne beautiful day in summer, towards the ,* setting of the sun, as wo were journeying „ slowly along, I espied, several hundred rods 1 ''ahead of us, a group of horsemen approach jog, their animals upon a gallop. , on.? Bo gorrn 1’ muttered Billy, riding up by :„i<iny side, ‘an’ do yez see those murdering , ihaythens a coming?’ ■/j,,l,?,Certainly,’ I said, ‘ but why do yon ask?’ ,b,f;Bekase. sir, may it plnze your honor, but JC think them same fellows are robbers.’ Wkot, are y° u alraid •’ I asked, amused. ■!|(:jH No, sir, it’s not the likes o’ me that would when I have these wid me,’ he ro- tapping a pistol which protruded from belt. What will you do, supposing they are as ;i : ii;Sij(Qu think, robbers ?’ Be gorra. sir, but I’ll show the ignorant ’ih'ljjigayturs. Didn’t me fayther that’s been ' ,deod those ten years, and who was born only ~sP|ptoen miles from Dublin, learn me how to the shillaluh V psyMiWhile this conversation had been going on .V.;;Vthe horsemen had silently continued to ap feo-Rrnaoh us, and were nut but a short distance fe|jfft)vay. I rode on thoughtless of impending until nearly abreast of the travel ‘-Halt I’ exclaimed the foremost one of checking his own animal. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ I asked, comply ing with his command. •It means,’ replied the man, ‘ that you P-f&inust surrender into our keeping such valua- as you may happen to hayo übolit you.’ Never!’ I cried drawing my pistol and the contents towards him, U JI 1 ba I’ hedaughod as the smoke clear • away, revealing him. seated unmoved in saddle. Before I could reply I received upon the bead from behind mo which me to the earth. When I returned to consciousness I found t tying in the position in which I hud but the robbers were nowhere to bo on. I raised myself upon my elbew aud ■’iaS°kod about me. A short distance away I . my horse quietly grazing the long '■ lander grass with which the ground was !&a lvcre^. 7**'3? I De gorra! is it alive yez are 7’ said a voice v-liyose at hand, y ttel’s&f looked in the direction and saw my ser )nt hastening toward me. ‘lt’s a sorry time I had wid the haythens I’ exclaimed, as he sat down at my feet. • Relate it to mo,’ I said. * Well then, ye see,’ lie began, ‘ about the mo when the ignorant crayturS hit yez on ic head I found ineself surrounded by about rty o’ the divilish imps. Well, I drawod o revolver and killed about twenty of ’em" hen I seed it was no use, so I jest dropped fme horse and. started on a run across the irary wid the howlin’ divils arcer me jujt fust as they could, run. But I bate 'em i’ they soon turned round and came back sro where the rest of ’em was, when they 1 jumped on to their horses an’ left. When toed they were all gene for sure I thought ‘Como and see it I could find yez.’ When he had finished I arose, and after ■tohing our horses we once more started on trjoutney. About nn h6ur afterwards we came to a small village, and, as it .was already dark, I concluded to remain oVor niglifi providihg we could obtain accommodations for ourselves and animals. Ueining our lioraes up to one of tbo larger buildings, I asked of a middle aged man whom I found seated on the porch, if'wo could obtain a night's lodgings. ‘ Si, se.nor’ bo replied, taking our horses and lending them awny. ‘ Be Tim Finnegan’s groat black oat, that used to go to mass wid the praist's pig, but that’s a decent looking man!’ said Bill, pointing to our host. As we passed through the narrow door way a mild and pleasant-looking woman arose, and, after handing us seats, set about preparing us some supper. In a short time our host returned, and a moment lator the good woman announced that supper was rea dy. \Ve drew near the table, and, with appe tites sharpened by our recent ride, did am ple justice to the savory viands set before us. ■ When we had finished I drew out ray pipe and tobacco, determined on enjoying a good smoko. * Whafc is that largo stone building, which wo passed on our right, a short distance from here ?’Tasked of our host. * That/ he replied, as a momentary shade passed over his bronzed countenance, 'is cal led bv us the Castle of Death/ ‘ But why do you give it such a fearful name V I continue 1. 4 Because he answered, * no person wh6 enters it is over seen to come forth alive/ * There is, then, a mystery surrounding it, which I hope I may be able to unravel/ I thought• . ' ‘ Is there not some story or ancient legend connected with it?’ I asked aloud. 4 Certainly, do you wish .to hear it V 4 By all means/ 4 Well, then, to oblige you I yc-ill relate it/ and leaning back in hm chair, ho began : 4 About twenty years ago a wealthy Span iard, named Don Jobo Mairado, arrived in 'this place, and shortly, aher purchased the building known as the Castle of Death, then a handsome "and spacious dwelling* ‘Shortly after making his. purchase he took up his residence there. His family con sisted of himself and one child, a beautiful young maiden of seventeen summers. 4 Two years fled swiftly, during which time everything went happily on at the cas tle, when a newcomer arrived in our village* lie was a handsome young man, always fashionably attired, and gave his name as Leon De* Cordova, lie remained several m/mths, spending the greater part of the time at the castle, in the company of Inez, the beautiful daughter of Don Jose when he suddenly disappeared, having gone no one knew whither ‘ The father of Inez, shortly after the dis appearance of Don Leon, noticed a change stealing over the spirits of his daughter, and, on questioning her, she revealed the fact that Don Leon had, after making the most solemn promises of marriage, seduced her, and then cruelly left her to her fate. When Dun Jose heard the story of his child’s wrongs he lifted up his hands to heaven and culled down a just and merciful God’s ven geance upon him who .had destroyed their happiness, and then sunk down upon the floor—dead. Inez did not long survive him, and they now lie buried side by side. 4 Since that time the castle has been unoc cupied, as the ghost of Don Jose is said to haunt it. Strange and unearthly noises are heard in and around it, aqd various colored lights tiro often seen at the windows which can bo caused only, by some mysterious potter. / ‘Several years ago a young American, like yourself, was so fool-hardy as to attempt to remain in it over night; but be paid dearly for his mad act, for the next day his body was found several hundred yards from the castle, his throat cut from ear-to ear, and his person otherwise disfigured/ _ When the Mexican had finisheerhis story I arose, and, thanking him for his trouble, de parted from the room. chaVter n. The next morning I arose, and, having made my toilet, sought the lower room. X found my servant already up and enjoying a lively chat with the good Irfdy of mine host. Picking up a book aud seating myself at the window’, I was about to commence reading, when ray attention was attracted by the confused murmur of voices outside. A moment later the keeper of the inn hastily entered the room. ‘What is the matter?’ asked his wife, coming forward as she noticed his excited manner. “ The robbers have been at their fiendish work again,’’ he replied, sinking into a chair. 1 What outrage have they committed this time ?’ continued his wife; ‘They have carried off Don Sebastian's daughter.’ ‘ And who is Don Sebastian?’ I asked. ‘ls it possible you do not know him—the richest man in the whole, village?’ he ex claimed, in astonishment. ‘ How should I,' X replied, ‘ when thill is my first visit to your lovely valley ?’ ‘True, true,’ he said, slowly. ‘I half suspect those band of robbers have mo: • or lees 1 1 t’o with the mysterious noises heard at the castle,’ 1 said. ‘What do you mean?’ exclaimed the Mexican, looking up in surprise. ‘ I believe the robbers, who abducted the daughter of Don Sebastian, occupy the Cas tle of death as you call it,’ I replied. ‘ ‘lmpossible,’ he said, slowly shaking'his head, • it cannot he.’ ‘ By no means,’ I replied, ‘ and I hope to convince you, for I shall this evening dare the ghost who-reigos the Te. and remain in it throughout the night.' ‘Bedad! an’ I’ll shop wid ye, mo honey,’ said my servant, coming forward. ‘ Surely you must he mad,’’ ejaculated the astonished native. During the day I walked about the village, inspecting various places and making love to the pretty Mexican girls, and when even ing came I roturnd to the little inn. Al'iei partaking of an excellent supper 1 prepared to set .out for the castle. ‘ Will you please loan me a lamp ?’ 1 asked of the good lad y. ‘Certainly,’ she said, and taking one from a shelf she placed it in my hands. ‘ Thank you,’ I said, and then bidding them good day, we turned and hastened from the room. ‘ It’s (i devilish foine job yer. have,’ mut tered Bill, close at my heels, ‘ hut I’ll sthick cloae'to ycz even if ould nick himself comes.’ We bood come to the castle and with difficulty succeeded in effecting tjn entrance. ‘ It’s a real nice place for ghosts and the like,’ said the Irishman, as we crossed the threshold. As the door closed I turned and discovered a wide and lofty ball, extending os far os the “ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY/' eye could 'pierce the darkness. Cautiously feeling my way along I soon oamo to a door which’ readily yielded to my touch, and .we passed through. * Let u’s remain here,’ I said, striking a light and peering about me. By the aid of tho small and smoky lamp 1 was able to distinguish a largo room, desti tute of any furniture except several old and ncketty chairs. Placing the light upon the floor I sank down into one of the chairs and silently awaited the coming of his ghostship. As if to add to our loneliness a fearful storm arose, which threatened to tear tbo old castle from its very foundation. The winds whisj tied and moaned through tbo dark and emp ty rooms, and sharp flashes of lightning oc casionally lit up the scone aruuud us as if in mockery of our situation. Slowly the hours passed, and with groat difficulty I succeeded in keeping awake. As the little village bell pealed out the hour of midnight a wild and unearthly, shriek echoed through the lonely building, ‘ An’did yez hear that?’exclaimed Bill, drawing nearer to rao. As the sound died awny a loud yoice was heard over head, followed by a low moan, as of some person in distress. I listened intent ly, for.nearly an hour, and, hearing nothing more, I began to think I-had been mistaken when a footstep sounded in'the hall, and a moment later the door swung open and a phantom-like objc;at glided noiselessly in. ‘ Ilowly Virgin but it’s the ould divel hiim self,’ uttered Bill, sinkiug tremblingly at my feet. ‘ Man or devil, who arid what are you ?’ I exclaimed, confronting my atrnngo and mysterious visitor. 1 1 am the spirit of Don Jose Mnirado,’ re plied the object, in a deep and mournful voice. 4 You are no more a spirit than I am/ I Said, calmly, and drawing my pistol I dis charged the contents full in his face, 4 11a, hal’ laughed the intruder, wildly, 4 bullets can no longer harm me/ c .C will confess that for a moment my non- Golief in ghosts was slightly shaken, but for a moment only, when .with a curse, I replac ed the empty weapon, and, drawing my sword, I rushed upon him exclaiming ; 4 Since bullets cannot harm you more, let me see how you can stand the effects of cold steel I’ Stepping back a pace my opponent drew a long, heavy, two-edged sword, which had hitherto been concealed bp tlio Dose folds of his garments, and throwing aside a mask, revealing tome the features of a determined and powerful man, who exclaimed. 4 Come on, then, you hot-headed boy, and you shall find that 1 am' no weak enemy I’ ‘I hud. when at homo, studied fcncingun dor the best masters, and was considered an adopt; and as I felt the/weight of my good sword in my band I advanced fearlessly to the contest. My opponent, no doubt, thought to easily overcome me, hut he soon learned that he had met his equal i! not his superior in the hand ling-of-tho- sword— With a dexterity which surprised even myself I skilfully parried his ivell-aimed thrusts, and at a favorable oppor tunity caught my sword in the hilt of his, and, ere ho could extricate it, wrenched the weapon from his grasp. Before he could ful ly understand the situation in which he was placed my sword had pierced his heart, and with a groan ho sank dying to the floor; ‘An' yez did it illigantly, mo raasther/ exclaimed Bill, who had silently witnessed the dreadful contest. At that moment a loud noise was beard outside, and almost immediately six villain ous looking men hastily entered the mom. ‘ What the devil is this ?’ exclaimed the foremost stumbling over the inanimate form of my late antagonist. ‘ Holy Virgin ! it’s the captain I’ said another, bending over the body. ‘ Curses upon ye, this is your hellish work !’ exclaimed the first speaker as he caught sight of mo, and, hastily drawing his sword, he rushed upon me. I parried the blow which the villain aim ed at me, and as he lowered his weapon 1 plunged my sword to the hilt in his body. As the remainder of the robbers saw the fall of their ooraoanion they rushed upon me in a body, determined to be revenged.— Bill and myself slowly retreated to a corner of the room, hotly pressed by our" deadly foes. ‘ Take that, ye haythen 1’ exclaimed Bill, dealing one cf the robbers a blow upon the head which effectually silenced him. I now found myself in a fearful situation, hotly pressed by four desperate villains,, ench one thirsting for my heart’s blood ; but with the assistance of a kind and loving God, and the strong arm of my faithful servant, I succeeded in keeping our adversaries at hay. As one of the robbers—a well-built and pow erful looking fellow- -aimed a blow at mo which I easily parried, I plunged ray sword to the hilt’in his body, and with the rapidi ty of lightning, I dealt another blow upon the head, which placed hiin /iora de combat. X now turned my attention to roy servant, who was desperately fighting with the two remaining robbers. I quickly singled out the one most powerful and at once attacked him. He tinned upon me with a scowl and aimed a desperate blow at mo, which I easily parried, and, as ho. glanced at his companion, who had at that moment receiv ed his death warfent, I plunged my sword to his heart. ‘ They are all kilt.’ exclaimed Bill, joyful ly leaning upon his sword. ‘ Now, then,’ I said, after a pause, ‘ lot us explore this dismal .place.’ ‘ Widjill me heart,' replied Bill, following mo. We left the room, and, after passing through numerous halls and intricate passa ges, wo at length came to a door which we found to bo strongly looked. I gave it sever al kicks, aud it finally yielded to my efforts and wo passed into the-room. . By the aid of the lampi which I had fortu nately brought with me, I was able to dis» tiuguish a beautiful young lady, seated upon a low bedstead at the extremity of the room. Around her were placed a number of chairs, and a beautifully carved desk, and several other articles of furniture. Bowing low, I said— . . ‘ Pardon me, lady, for this intrusion, but I had no thought uf meeting a woman in this gloomy place, much loss one so fair as your self.’ ‘ Who are you ?’ she askod, arising and brushing the tears from her eyes. ‘I am,’ I replied, ‘an Amerionp, and am traveling through your delighiinl country.— Happening to stop at the' little village, and hearing that this castle was supposed to he haunted, I determined to visit it, and, if pos sible, discover the truth. And you,’ I asked, ‘ who are you.’ ‘I teas an unfortunate young girl, hut am now happy,’ she replied ; and, sinking upon the oarpetless floor, she poured* forth her thanks to an aU%ise and merciful Providence. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST Si, 1865. Then, arising and placing her hand in mine, she said, with childish simplicity — * May God bless and reward you 1’ , * lie will reward those who love, honor and obey him,’ I said. ‘ And now let us leave this driffidful place.’ Xsilently led the way through the desolate rooms and into, tbo open nir, and nfter n short walk wo reached the village. Mine host nt the inn was surprised at seeing me, but much more by the appearance of the young lady, whom he immediately recognized ns tho lost daughter of Don Sebastian. Groat was tbo rejoicings throughout the village when the nnnonnoement was made that tho noble Don bad recovered his beauti ful daughter, and 1 was made the recipient of a largo sum which the Spaniard insisted un my accepting. 1 remained in the village several days, and when ! took my de parture I carried with me tho good wishes of the many friends I had made during my so journ there. ‘Judge, will, you please lend mo three thousand dollars ?’ ‘ Can’t do it. Impossible, Mr. Eiford.’ ‘ Can’t you, indeed ?’ was returned in con temptuous tones. ‘ I wonder when you were ever able to lend motley?’ • Well, sir, all I’ve got to say is, I haven’t it to lend.’ ‘ Well, then, I have nothing more to do here,’ Eiford then turned abruptly around and loft, slamming the door in the Judge’s face. ‘ Tuke cine, my follow, how you do that again !’ exclaimed the Judge, now livid with passion. Before going further I will introduce the render to’the person alluded to. Judge Arney wlis about forty-five years of nge; tall in statue, with a prominent fore head and features strangely marked. lie was what people Would call rich, but ho had one bad fault which nearly rained him, and that was a very hi«j;h temper; he easily got over it, and. was easily put in one again. Mr. Elford was a very eminent lawyer, re siding in the same town. He was a tall,dig nified, man, strongly proportioned, with dark hair and beard ; ills character/from what wo have learned, was a very insulting one. He was once a great friend of Judge Arney, and was also one of his constant visitors, tho se paration having arisen from a quarrel, which had taken place a short time before in tho town. After Elford had left the Judge paced the floor of his office in silence. After walking the floor fur some minutes, he at last ex claimed— * That man will cither bo the death of mo, or I’ll be the death of him 1 one or the other.’ * What is the matter, my friend ? You look as though you wore in trouble/ exclaim ed a pleasant looking gentlemen, entering the office. 'I am in great trouble 1’ exclaimed the Judge, with a sigh. ‘ Ah I indeed 1 but you would have no ob jections to telling it, would you ?’ ‘Certainly not, my friend; certainly not. Taker-a seat and you shall hear if’ The two men seated themselves, and the Judge then began. * Well, you know a man living in town by the' parae of Elford, dou’t you V ‘Yes! Yes IV * Well, ho was here awhile ago, and asked me to lend him three thousand dollars, which you know, as well as I do, I haven’t it to lend/ ‘ Yes. Well, go on.’ 4 Simply because I haven't it to lend (here tbo. Judge closed his hand and brought it down with a resounding thump upon the table), ho began at once with his most infa mous abuse, and closed by leaving the office and slamming the door in my face.' 4 "Well,' replied his companion, smiling,* 4 that was certainly an infamous abuse ; but still I wouldn’t get angry and fret myself about such a little thing of that sort/ ‘ Humph ! a little thing, is it V exclaimed the Judge, contemptuously; 4 a very little tiling, indeed, isn’t it ?” 4 Now, my cheer up and forget about the matter/ 4 Yes, I reckon I will cheer up; but, be fore I will do it, I will see that man in a tighterplaoe than ho is now/ * Ah ! my friend, I see you don't follow the teachings of the Bible/ replied his com panion, in a solemn tone. ‘ Wlmtexample V * 4 Do unto others as you would they should do unto you/ * 4 Well, now, I’d like to know what that’s got to do with my case?' * Well, look here. Suppose you were, for instance, in. EUord’a place, aud, Elford in your place, what would he have done hud the same thing occurred to him/ *1 can’t answer that question fullyi sir; but I think ho would have kicked mo out, it be could have done it/ 4 Very likely lie would. Then that goes to prove that you both don’t follow the teach ings of the Bible/ t 4 How so V 4 Why, you say he/would kick you out, and you say you would see that man in a tighter place than he is—how’s that?’ The Judge, was, for some moments, lost for a reply; at last lie said, — 4 Well, I see now we are both wrong/ 4 Now I’d advise you not to speak to Elford until I see you again, or you will certainly got yourself into trouble. And another thing, as you are Judge of the Supreme Court, you ought to know bettor. And I think I’ve said enough on this subject, and will leave you to meditate upon it; so good-by/ 4 Good-by/ was the faint repose. The Judge took his lint and returned home, lie remained in that frame of mind all the everting. * * * * * * * The next morning the Judge was in better spirits. As lie was passing along the strpet he mot Elford on the corner. • ‘ Good-morning, friend,’ said Elford. Remembering bis companion’s words he coldly bowed and passed on; ‘Hal’ Hal’ laughed Elford, rudely; ‘hasn’t got oyer.that piece of mind I gave him.’ The Judge heard it, and instantly the warm, crimson tide mounted to bis face. He was on the point ot replying, but he checked himself and passed on. He entered his office and sat down by a table. Resting his elbow on the edge of his chair he sighed deeply. There was, from his appearance, a deep conflict going on in his mind, Elford was truly a very yudo man, and a very insulting one; Judge deter mined not to say anything to him until ho should have a fresh talk with his friend, lie was thinking just now that he had better probably make up with the man, and then again concluded to wait until ho should see PAY YBL'R DEBTS. BV 808 BION. his friend again. While ho was pondering thus upon t the subject the door suddenly opened and tho Judge’s friend made his ap pearance. 4 Gopd-raorning, my friend; you look in beltec. spirits since t saw you lust. How have you been getting along with yourself?’ * Tolerably well, I thank-you/replied tho Judge, arousing himself from his reverie, and placing a chair for his visitor. ‘ I mot Eiford this morning on tho corner; ho spoke to mo, and, with his vulgar lial ha! ha! said I hadn’t got over that peace of mind ho gave mo. Well, of course you know tho man had got over his rage, but still I felt pretty keen towards him. I just bowed to him, as a sign of recognition, and passed’ou/ 1 You did exactly right,’ replied his com panion, warmly? ‘.but you did not do any thing further* did you ?’ ‘ No; but I came very near answering him back/ returned tho sternly. ‘There seems, •to mo/ replied his com panion, doubtfully, ‘something must have occurred that you should be so severe to wards the man/ 4 Well,’ returned tho Judge, 4 we bad quite a dispute about a larm a few miles from town, and Eiford proposed to sell it. Ho asked mo what price would bo suitable for it. I told him. it would boworth twenty thou sand dollars. He sfcemed satisfied for tho present. Shortly afterwards ho was in this office and—you know what a thoughtless fal low he is—told some gentlemen that were talking with him that I said the farm was worth fifteen thousand dollars. Ouo of the party told him ho certainly made a mistake ; that, he had known me a long time, and. was sure I didn’t say it. Eiford replied that I did say it, and there was no two ways about it. . - * Gentlemen/ said I, interrupting the con versation'/ 1 I Paid twenty thousand dollars, Elford is mistaken/ *1 know better than that/ he answered; and his face flushed with anger. . ‘Elford/ said I, calmly, * I want no dis puting on the subject; tho farm is worth twenty thousand dollars.’ * You mny say what you please ; it’s a base falsehood/ ho returned, clenching his fist and springing towards me. 1 Look here/ I said .* if you don’t end this pretty soon I’ll put you out of the office !’ ‘ Klford was now at the height of his rage, lie acted positively as if he was going crazy. The men got up and went out, and I was loft alono with my rago blind companion. ‘ Klford/ I said. ‘.I don’t know what makes' you act ad, I/s a trifling matter, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I want you to stop it/ • I’ll not stop until I choose/ ho answered, '* and you may say what you please.’ ‘Look out what you are about/ I said, as Elford walked towards tho door, capsizing the chair as ho went. s _* 1 felt my face flush at tho strange be havior of Elford, I had ne\er seen tho man at:t so before in my life ; and about a farm, too. At last I said,— * Elhu’d, I wish you would either go out of -this place, or act-as if you had some sense!’ ‘ 1 felt my temper roused/ * I'll never have anything more to do with you !’ he said ; and he left tho office. ‘But you know what sort of a man ho is/ ‘Well/ smiled his companion, ‘Elford doesn’t mind half what he says. If I were you ! would only speak to him in an ordina ry way/ After tho above conversation the gentle men took his leave and the Judge went on with the business of the day. Leaving him employed with his business, wo must explain what became of Elford, as tho Judge saw nothing of him after his meeting him on tho streets* Several days passed, and Elford was in his study examining his books. There was ,a bill, urging him to pay it as soon ns possi ble. He bad not the money to pay, and what could be do ? The bill must be paid. He threw it on the table and bowed his bend in bis hands. About his going to Judge Arney’a for the money the reader al ready knows. Elford begftti to feel sorry for having treated the Judge so rude; his thoughts troubled him ; ho did not know what to do. He at last concluded to go to his creditor’s house and tell him it was impossible to pay it. Shutting up hia'books and putting on his hat, after having arranged everything in their proper places, he left the study. lie walked on, for some minutes, down the street until ho stopped in front of a largo and handsome building. Ho then ascended the steps and rung the bnll. “Ts your master in?’ lie inquired of a ser vant-girl who came to the door. ‘Yes, sir; walk into the office/she said, leading the way. 44 Good-evening, Mr. Elford; have you come to pay the bill?’ inquired a portly looking gentleman, entering the office. 4 Sir, it is impossible J' exclaimed Elford. 4 Just as J expected ; but the mortgage is already under the hammer/ 4 Then you mean to sell my land, house and nil?’ . 4 Most assuredly I do. The debt mns be paid/ \ 4 Well, then, it will havtf to go, that’s all,’ said Elford, feelingly. ‘ Well, sir, it can’t bo helped, you know/ Elford felt so wounded bo could hardly speak. At last hfl turned to go, when bis creditor said,—» 4 1 am very sofry for your misfortune, sir, very sorry, indeed. Good-evening/ 4 Good-evening/ ###■#*# *'■ Elford made his way homo and told it to liis family. They were deeply distressed ; all tried to soothe him ; even his little child, a boy of three years old, saw that something was amiss. Notwithstanding all this Elford determined to lend a better life. lie had been an extra vagant man all his life ; but this debt entire ly cured him. He never spent money unless' ho found it absolutely necessary. Even the Judge saw this change in him, and after- 1 wards became his bosom friend. The Black Horde Comino North.—ln Indiana and southern Ohio papers are com plaining of the vast number of negroes pour ing into those States. Every train and boat, since “ pusses” have been abolished by Gen, Palmer, brings large re-inforcemonts of these swarthy blacks, who, in a few months will become a burden to the tax payors and a pest to the communities upon which they force themselves. They are led to believe, if they come north, they will find freedom, easy times, plenty of employment,-and Fe cial and political equality. They will be sadly disappointed in their hopes. SET” The New York Tribune declares that the negroes “saved the country in the hour of its sorest need.” We have slight recollection that a few white men had a hand in the matter. A Yankee Trade. Tho other day wo heard of a little circum stance which realty occurred not a hundred miles from Fhamixvillo, that is worth re lating : A certain farmer, who, in the course of tho year, purchased several dollars’ worth of goods (and always paid for them) at tlio store of a village merchant, culled upon tho merchant not lung since with two dozen brooms which he ollered for sale. The Merchant (who, by the way, is fond of a good bargain) examined his stock, and said : * Well, Cyrus, I will give you a shilling apiece for those brooms.” Gyrus appeared astonished at tbo offer, f and quickly replied ; < Oh, no, John, I can’t begin to take that for ’em, no how;but I*ll lot you have ’em for twenty cents apice, and, not a cent less.* ‘Cyrus, you aro crazy/ x*eplicd John. ‘Why see here/ showing a fine lot of brooms, »la an article a great deal hotter than yours (which was true) that I am re tailing for t\vel_yo and a half cts. apiece,’ (which was not true by seven and a half cents. ‘Don’t caro for that!’ replied Cyrus, your brooms aro cheap enough, but you can’t have mine for less than twenty cents, no how I,.and protending to-be more than half angry, shouldered bis brooms and started for the door. - The merchant, 'getting a little nervous over the probable loss of a good customer, and fearing ho might go to another store and nuver return, said : ‘See hero, Cyrus, hold on a while. If I givo you twenty cents lor your brooms I suppose you will not object to take the pric* out in goods V < No don’t cure if I do,’ replied Cyrus. c Well, then,’ said the merchant, ‘us you are an old customer I will allow you twenty cents fur your brooms I suppose yon will not object to take the price out in poods V ‘ No,fdon’t care if 1, do,’implied Cyrus. ‘ Well, then,’ said the morcliapt, *aa you aro an old customer X will allow you twenty cents lipico lor this lot. Let mo see— twenty times twenty-four makes just four hundred and eighty—yes, four eighty qenta. What kind of goods will you have, Cyrus I* < Well, now, John, I reckon it don’t make any difference to you what sort ol goods I take, does it?’ < Oh, no not at all—not at all.’ • Well, (hen, as it don't make no differ ence to you, I will take the amount in them ere brooms of your* u at twelve and a half cents apiece! Let mo see—four dollars and eighty cents will get thirty-eight brooms five cents over. Jl don’t make much diff erence John, about tho five cents, but as you’re' a right clever fellow I believe I will just take the change in tcrhacker.’ When Cyrus went out of tho door with bis brooms and ‘lerbacker,’ John was seiz ed with u serious breaking out at the mouth, during which he was heard to violate the third commandment several limes. — Phccnixoitle Phcenix, Didn’t Know tho Ropes* ■ Western officers were proverbial /or shock ing-had-un Worms :-ftnd,-ina. majority of instances, it was rather difficult to dis tinguish them from privates. Amoflg this class was a brigadier general named James Morgon, who looked more like a wagon mas ter than a soldier. On a certain occasion, a now recruit, just arrived in cetyip, had lost a lew articles, and was inquiring around among tho ‘vets’ in hopes,of finding them. An old soldier, fond of sport, told the re cruit tbo only thief in (he brigade was lo Jim Morgan’s tent 5 so he immediately start ed for ‘ Jim’s’ quarters, and poking his head id, asked— .» Does Jim Morgan live bero’l «Yes,’ was the reply. *My name is James Morgan.* < Then 1 want you to hand over those books'you stole from mo !’ * I have none of your books, my man.’ < It’s qd infernal He,’ Indignantly exclaim-, ed the recruit. ‘The boys say you’re tho only thief in tho camp} so turn out them books; or i'll grind your carcass into apple aaas. 5 x J The general relished the joke much ; but, seeing the sinewy recruit peeling off his coat, ho informed him of his relationship with tho brigade, when the recruit walked oft, merely remarking,— ‘ Wall, blast mo if I’d take you for a brig« ndler. Excuse mo, geneal ; I don’t know the ropes yet.* With all IhyHlgbt. An exchange has the following, which il lustrates an important truth : Look at that hoy ! He is a stout, strong follow, and ono of tho sharpest in dur work shop. But ho will not scree our'purpose ; ho must bo dismissed.” i “ Why 7” I enquired. « Because he does not work with all his might. Just watch tho drowsy, indillcrout way in Which ho handles his tools. Ho is thinking of something clso nil the time.” This was said by ono of tho proprietors of an extensive manufactory for machinery, as ho conducted mo through part oi bis works. “ Vou must require great strength of mus cle in your workmen,” I remarked. “ No, not so much strength of muscles ns strength of purpose. It is not men*of might that we want, hut men who use their might; men who work with Zeal and ener gy at whatever they set themselves to do. It is not the strong and big hoys who do tho most work, but the hoy that are in earnest, active and strong of purpose; doing ono thing at .a lime, but doing that ouo thing well. Oar Turn Bust Come* Generation aftor generation, siys a lino writer have* felt as wo now feel, and their lives were active us our own. They pass ed away like a vapor, while nature wore the same aspect of beauty as when her Creator commanded her to be.. Tho world will have tho same attraction? for our offspring jut unborn, that she had ouco for us ns childreu. Yet a little while and all will Imvo happened. Tho throbbing heart will .. be satisfied, and we shall be at rest. Our will find its way, and prayers will bp said, and.thcn We shall ho left alone in ' silence and darkness for tho worms. And . it may bo for a short tirao wo shall bo spo- ken of, but the things of life will creep in. and onr names Will soon be forgotten. Bays will continue to move on, and laugh ter and song will be faenrd In tho room in which we died ; and tho eyes that rionrned /or us will ho dried, and glisten again with joy, and even our children will not remem ber to lisp onr names. The following, clipped from an English journal, is warranted as a cure ior drunk enness : “Sulphiato of ison, five grains r magnesia, ton grains ; pppporment water, ten drachms; spirit of nutmeg, one drachm; twice a day. This preparation acta aS a tonic and a stimulant, and so partially sup plies tho place of the accustomed liquor, and prevents that absolutly pysical and moral prostraiton that followos a sudden breaking off from the use ot stimulating drinks.”* Up a Tree* Artcmus Aristottlo’s patiiotism broke out •demonstratively upon his receipt of tko fall oT itichraond. He’d have the biggest stur-spanglo banner and the tallest flag-staff in Berks county—‘that’s what ho would, and he told Aunt Hannah'so; So Aria rushed down to Philadelphia by express train, purchased a forty /Oct flog, and rushed homo again by next express* Then Aria set about achieving tho.longest liberty pole in Berks, out of a strait hun dred and sixty feet—more or less—pino tree, standing on akaoll back ot tbobouse. With the b g bunting lashed about his shoulders, and armed with a hatchet, he up-ended tho long hay-lailder against tho pine, scrambled in among, the lower bronchos, and began cutting bis course upwards, trimming close to the trunk every knot and branch as bo progressed. Having cut his way to tbo tip-top of tho pine, At lie Hung his flag to the breeze lash ed it hard and last to tho staff, hurrahed lustly for Grant, “ tigered” for Sheridan, and then made tho discovery that bo bod cut oil his retreat. There ho was, a hundred and titty feet up in the air, and every indi vidual thing that he could have climbod down by, cut olf smooth. Arte’s enthusi asm collapsed in u second, and ho hailed tho house: “ Hannah ! O—Hannah I I say—Han nah ; Como out heio.” Out came Hannah, and seeing her bus-* band humped up into a ball, away up tbero under the “ ti ig ol tho tree,” the old lady piped out at him in key major: *• Why, saki-s o’mo ! What is it, Arte V •‘Dud deru it, Hannah! Pm up a tree . Can’t ye take that are musket and shoot my dinner np here ?” “ Why, dear me, Arte, how will you ever get down from there ?” “Dunuo Hannah,’less ye git somebody to chop the domed true down, and that would ocn ein oat kill mo. Dol blast the luck !” Arts clung to his perch just about as long, as he could, ami then doping legs about tho trunk, ho began to slide down storm foremost like a bear, ripping, scraping, and tearing over the rough surface in a way that by tho time ho touched terra Jirma y it was about an oven question which had lost' the most bark—Arlemus or tho tree. “ I’ll bo dod blamed ! if over I go to cut another tree into a flag-stall, I’ll bogiaat tho upper eond,” Arte swore, as Aunt Hannah led him away ragged and bleeding** Harr.—Years ago, a blunt Vermont far mer, not altogether versed in public litnra-* turo of fashionable cookery, and having by hard knocks acquired considerable prop erty, took it into his head to visit Boston, and, started accordingly in his best one-* horsolgig. Stopping near noon at one of the “smart” villages on tho rout, he put up for a time and ordered dinner. When a: kod what he prefered, he mentioned beef stake, and the landlord inquired whether bo would have it rare or well done* This was a stumper for our friend, but thinking there might be something “glorious” in the “un certainty,” lie assumed tho air of one wbo « knew, the bricks,” and ordered it rare. All things in readiness, our boro took a seat at the table, and commenced a vigor ous onslaught on_the smoking vinads placed before him. At the first cut of the steak, blood very profusely followed tho knife, at which he started back in astonishment, and rang the hell furionsly. Directly a waiter inswered the summons, and inquired what ho wished. “I want tho beef cookoij,” said tho guest* <<hut you ordered it fare,” replied the waiter. . “I know it,” said tho guest, assuming to understand tho matter fully, “but it is not quite right; you.may take it out and rare it over ogam /” “ Let’er Hip I”—Captain B—was a great “ beau”—all the girls wore “ crazy” afier him. Two fair damsels were out rid ing ono day, when they espied tho captain coming up tho street. Cue ot tho girls bad not been introduced, but she bad long wish ed to bo ; and this was considered a favor able opportunity. So, roigniog their steed up to tho sidewalk just as tho captain ap proached, bowed politely and smiled sweet ly, while ho sprang forward and caught tho horse by the head to “ cramp” the carnage around, that the ladies might alight"* with leas difliculty ; when Miss O , with rath er too much haste, perhaps, exclaimed on answering the smilo and bow of the ladies* favorite : “Captain B—, Miss Latourotto!” The gentleman addressed, making tho most natural mistake In tho world, as tho lady’s name was not pronounced very dis tinctly, looked somewhat astonished as ho replied ; *» Very well, just as you say, miss. « Lei ’cr rip 5 Uis ? ,} Kelaxing his hold from the rein, ho bow ed formally and walked away. Subsequent explanations corrected the Captain’s mis apprehension, but for the time being a cou ple of young ladies felt particularly «« cheap.” Faith ExTiiAon.DiNAßt.~ln Zanesville, Ohio, there are many colored persona who live by barboring and other light work. They are lor the most port an orderly and quiet people, many of them religious, hav ing a church of their own, and an ebony minister, of all of which they are justly proud. Ono cold evening, in a time of a great revival in the church, (his obony ex pounder was delivering a powerful appeal on ** faith,” the groans and sobs L of hia hear ers giving token qt Its effects upon their impressible natures. The tears stood upon his own dark check, hia voice quivered like distant thunder, while ho emphasized his words by vlgorovs blows upon tho table. In tho midst of all this, tho stove, agita ted by his jarring blows,'rolled over on tho -floor. Brother Lewis, a high man in tho church had, located himself near tho com forter of shins; be stood irresolute when his minister caino to him laden withfaitb — :t Pick up do stove, Brudder Lewis, pick up de stove, do Lord won’t let it burn you.” Brother Lewis’ mind was Ailed up with miracles of faith he had heard that evening, so ho yielded lo tho appeal of bis preacher, grabbled the hot stove, bmdTop ped it instantly and turning his reproachful eyes to tho disciple ,of faith, exclaimed, <* De hell he u/on’f.”— Dx* A Snake Story. Mr. M. Is very much in the habit of *« drawing tho lung bow.” One of his stor ies is as follows : “ Did you over see one of these hoop snakes?” «« No,” says thelistnerj “ X didn’t think there was any such things*” “Oh, yes!” says Mr. M., <» I’ve seen one. Me and my hired man was down there in the borne lot, by the side of the road, and we seen something roiling down the bill, and says X, c I guess that ere must be one of them hoop snakes coming along.’ My hired man bo was afeared and climbed up a tree \ but I took ray hoe In my band, and Went out and stood side of a tree’ in the road, and when ho came along 1 stock out tho hoe handle, and he hit it a slap, and made a noise jest like a pistol; and, sir, it warn’t raor’n a minute after that are ho*- handle was swelled op as big as my Ug I M lb
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers