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_Y OLUNTEEiI.'
\j PUBLISHED EVEHT THUnSDAV MOHMINQ TIY
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<
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