■ ■>s 'L. 52. .CAN VOLUNTEER. lED EVERT TItUItST)AT MOUKIIH} BY )HH B. BBAXTOS- TERMS: non.—Ttfo Dollars if, paid RrllWn tho !wo Dollars and Fifty 'Cents, if not paid joar. These terms Trill ho rigidly*ad every instance. No subscription dis n’til all arrearages are paid unless at of tho Editor. bmbnts— Accompanied by the cash, and ng one aqun.ro, will bo inaortod throe S2.OD, and twenty-five cents for cncb uaortion. Those of n greater length in ;TIN n—Snob ns Hand-bills, Posting-bills Blanks, Labels, Ac. Ao., executed with id at tho shortest notice. THU OLD CLOCK. '“.thfl’ijold; old ctook, of the household Btoofe', , > '•* UhebHghtest thing, and neatest; , ■ ids thqytgh old, had a touch of,gold, , •; its ohinro.rang still tho sweetest;, ~ *' a monitor; too’, though; its words wore few, ; , • \ they lived, though nations altered; its voice,.still strong,’, Warned old and young, i SO the voice of friendship faltered ; tick!’ it said— 1 quick to bed, ten I've given warning; p I and go, or else you know, _ 'll never rise soon in the,morning " ’ iendty voioo was that old, old clock, \ stood in.the corner smiling, jßsod the time with a racrry cllitflo, wintry hours beguiling t 3r098 old voioo Was that tirdsonie clock, fe called n daybreak boldly ; the dawn looked gray o’cilf the tdisty the early nirbleW I ' oolcliy S ‘ ' tiokl’ it naid— ‘ quick out of bed, ; re I’ve given warning , ; (ever have libaith', yon’ll"never, have ,'calth;.’ ' , t , , ,• j - isa you'fh u\i'soon - in the morning 1 lioUrtSf tuts toifttd" 'ftfSia round and hand, , ' , • ... a fond tliat tfcaaesfievei' I . ’ " toara are shed for Wight days fled, ’die old friends .lost forever! 1 hbiW on—though hearts are gone, Is etjll mijte—though ■ hands we W .sped'.on earth'Ka longer.!; ■ it'. .jW. the church -ysfd Vi/nVu hnjiii,givenwarning _ 1 1 ' f and riqe, .ahd look at the skies, , pfbpiire for a heavenly moaning V<’> ( matters: niiTßiitim.' roall'j : cannot, wake it out; , t , w uanv yofc none propose 1 - 3 .iat ars tjWinffatjoutT ~ ■ • isre’a Mr. Bally copies here daily, To dinner, and to—doze )' ■, .. .. : 0 smiles and sigWs, looksferj* wisd, And yet lie don't propose. >y steal my pocket handkorchiots;' ‘hey pray for locks of hail*, », iey ask me for my hand—-to dfibco, They praise my grace and air. t , rere’s.JVlr. Pyson, fond of IlyBon; wonder ho close ; ike his lea, he smiles on mo, .ud yst he don't propose. park or play, at break of day, Chey follow me about, .. ling or walking, singing Or. talking, 4.t revel, masque, or rouU r father thinks it very bud, Chat out of all the beaux, _ ho come to dine and drink his wmdr None of them will propose. i, ,U is very singular, ?vo half ft mind to pout; the beaux none will propose, Vhat do they dream about? wever, now my mind's resolved, n poetry and prose, late’er ensue, if false or true, ie of them shall propose'! 3&dlaneou®. MY MARRIAGE, OR, ||||||Sche BreadM Widow. making my way through a crowd street.which I supposed had.colloot '(■;the contemplation and enjoyment of rifling and contemptible disturbance, i which at the time ! was tot in o inquire, when my course'was arres i pair of beautiful blnok eyes under veil, which met mine with a muto that I could not for a moment resist, it is the matter ?’ I demanded of the ir of the black eyes, larkubly sweet voice replied, ‘ 1 have to interfere in behalf of a child I people abusing, but I am afraid that , some assistance my efforts will be ling-’ i wasn’t abusing it,’ cried several voices together. . ‘ She was only figbt tb little Mike, and she’d a got the best i too, if ye’d let her alone.’ is quite enough/ said the lady -with her “splendid eyes' flashihg"”as she * that your.sex should disgrace itself T ay. I shall not allow mine' especi i a little creature as this, to make a jrute of itself, if I can help it.’ .are right madam,’ I said. ‘ The who would see your sex dragged into izo ring must have little respect for his ither. You are Quixotic, however, to the duties of this child’s natural pro- Where are its parents?’ . : id,’ cried the three other children,in ire—how does thig little girl live j Uvea with Miss Fanny Flints, and irrands for her/i at sort of a person is this V inquired ■keyedlady. dresses finer than, you do, ma’am,’ . one of the female bystanders, * but not exactly the person to bring up a in the way it should go, as she has 1 a,long way out herself.’ , pointed truthfulness of this remark 1 a laugh among the acquaintances of Fanny Flink. • Tho lady in tho .meantime, had not lot go hob hold on the half olad, sturdy little girl, whoso face was flushed with passion-, and dis colored with blood, dirt and tears. She stooped down to her, raising her veil and said— 1 Little one, if you will, go. with mo I’ll find you a. good homo. You shall have nice clothes, enough to oat, and bo taught to road and write; What do you say ?’ Tho sweetness and beauty of the lady’s face surprised mo; the child seemed quite overpowered by her gentle influence, and re plied : ‘ Yes ma’am I will go with you any where.' At this conjunction a policemen arrived on the spot, and the lady at once addressed her self to him, explaining the case, and shortly afterwards she walked away loading her little olinrgCj escorted by tho guardian of the peace. Although much pressed lor time’l lingered to look after her till she turned the-corner ; for I rievef'had seen a face- which was half so beautiful as hers, and It haunted me ever after. - ■ ’ ’ 1 I had, -however,, at that , time, too many troubles of my own to ufford time to look af-. ter those of others* A very long; and expen sive law suit had exhausted the;prio6 hand,-, some fortune'that had long kept my family ■in so enviable a .positlon,,and left me no til ing bat fallacious hopes and jllußivo expec tations. My father died during the slow pro gressof the litigation ; the lawyers whb had comiriendod and .so long condoo.tep"s* .also died before its conclusion aud it appeared too probable that my mother, tbb,-wotted v,pass awrty without the satisfaction of.knOVyipg that so much money, thought, anxiety and susponse ’had not been entirely thrown away. She was yery ill; and I foresaw‘with-cer tainty that the slender thread which held her to this lifU Would snap, if the final 1 decision fn our cause, which it was believed would Scton be rendered, should be against-us ; for it would necessitate the sale of all' that, re mained to us, arid'leaio us little better than beggars. It was our last stake, upon .which all our hopes and confidence had gradually concentrated ; and if that wore lost we had nothing more to lose—nothing but blank |do spair to'oncounter, whioh wo durst not antic- Spate. ■ -■ The lawyer, who, at the tithe, conducted oUr suit, 1 was'an old friend of m f father’s— sucoossfill, 1 rich, independent, and as he had undertaken the case more from friendly than pecuniary', motives, did not attempt tp'dis guise the truth from mo. But t could' riot look forward to anything but triumph', rind chose rather to regard his discouraging tone ns one of tho means ho employed tof‘enjiancb ‘ tlie value of his services in achieving success. Ho was a gijod ibdh at heart, that old lawyer dud his penetration was wonderful ; but lie was not apt to spojl,UiS raealcih'e by over sweetening it; and my pampered palate re '( belled not a ! little against its disgusting but wholesome bitterness. . 1 had a long hunt' nftqr anj important fe male witness, "Sfhom I found at last in a gar ret, dying of consumption. And whom should I find, sitting like a ministering an gel at her bedside', but the beautiful black eyed lady whom I had lately.mot, the com panion of tho little orphan girl t ‘ It is in such places as this, whore a gppd angel is most needed, ami not lathe circles, .of gayety and fashion, that I must seek you, I see,’ exclaimed 1( gazing upon her with, ir repressible admiration. The lady blushed deeply ; and, as soon n's she had recovered from her momentary con fusion,' obssjf/ed quietly,' that that she was dimply performing a duty to which an 'Old friend of her mother’s was fully entitled. While obtaining the deposition of her pa tient I‘Had'several opportunities ot oonver sing; with’ this ex’pdlletit beauty ;■ and her modest elegance and graceful ease captiva ted my soul.; , • : , One everiinffT was'permitted to aodompit; ny her i'n 1 seafeh'pf a conveyance 1 and as I had resolved'to’, express my sd’ntiments free ly to her on the, first, available occasion, I was, os is usiiiu in subh cases, much' embar rassed when ii prevented itself. ‘ Your patient i'sdyi'ng, 1 fear.’ ‘ She is conscious of the approach of deliv erance ; and such she W'git'rds it.’ _ * It is an, angel’s office you* fill in smooth ing her path to the grave.’ . - . •Do not flatter me, sir. It is bat little I can do and flattery seems to mo’ to' pi'nk'd that little nothing.’ .-a ‘I assure you I express my admit alien in most stinted terms ; were I to tell ye’d all I think and feel I might indeed surprise y6tf.’ 'Then let me entreat you for your forbear ance.’ ■ It is unkind, not to Say harsh, in you to forbid the utterances of a heart so sincere and full as mine.’ ~ _ ‘lt is my kindness, my consideration for you, that induce mo to cheek this excessive language because I know you will repent it.’ - * Impossible 1 I. not only admire you more than any being I ever saw, but I feel that you are worthy of my worship, and that I love you. •,•.,■■■ ‘Say no more, I; entreat. If you knew who and what I. um, you would confess the folly of which you are guilty* You tell me you are unfortunate and unhappy; I pity you—hut there. is a gulf between us,, and you would .only render yourself more wretch ed by attempting blindly and rashly to cross it > * Arc you married V ' ‘Do not ask. Here let our acquaintance cease. You have no more occasion to visit my patient; and you surely would not de prive her of the presence of her last remain ing friend, as you will do if you persist in intruding upon her. Here then let us part and forever*' J ' She stopped l a, cab; allowing me to help her into it, and left meAu my mystery and gloom. She had crossed my Sn,rk path like a heavenly apparition, an d her disappear ance rendered everything about me hope less and dreary as despair* • ' The treacherous law, after having Idred us on to ruin, decided against our claims, and extorted the last remnant of oar proper ty to: pay its. costs. To communicate this fact to my .mother, would have been .liko.in flicting her death blow, and after meditating long upon the subject, ! , found myself une qual to the painful task; , once more 'to oar old lawyer to ascertain whether there was no possibility -of, compromising, the mat ter, so as to postpone the f .ovil day, and Iqave my mother awhile in posession of her home and comforts. *T met a lady descending the stairs, who had just come out of his office, whose physi ognomy was of that unusually repulsive char*- acter which imprints, itself indellibly on : the and ever after, in dreams and rev eries, in sleep and in wakefulness, rises from time to time to ohr mental vision with hor rible distinctness; shocking us with the- ful lest sense of the dread ugliness of human malformation. I thought of the wonderful contrast between this creature and the doli • cate beauty I loved in vain. 1 The old lawyer was in and grasped my hand with sympathetro cordiality. I stated the object of my visit. ‘ Well, my young friend,’ said he, ‘ I have anticipated your Wishes, and have just been talking with tho Successful party. ..She is by. no means inexorable, but to tell , tho truth, there.is no ground of compromise left. You have lost all. If she accords you anything, it will be simply a donation —nothing morn or less.’ “ Is there no resource leftjby which I can for n time ward off this final, and to my moth- er, I fear, fatal blow ?’ ‘ None in law V ‘ In what then ?’ * In yourself?’ ‘ How in myself?’ ‘ln your person. You are young and handsome, I don’t say so to flatter you but to make my meaning clear.,’ . , . ‘Weiir. ■ ‘ Well, marry the widow.' ‘Marry! her? , I would rather hang my.- self at One'S'/!’ ‘.You ehbuld’know best how fit you are to die.' lam afraid your education and habits liiive totally, unfitted you for,business and use flllDQßB | 1 ‘ ; But v this, marriage is. absurd; impossi ble;'' ' i. ■ : ‘jam not in the habit of proposing absur dities and impossibilities. If _you will au thorize me to dct> you will M uud it no such thing.; ’., Will you do so V■ .. ; ,Not for the world?’ , .... ‘ Understand that I haVmt urged, this.on ymir.bohhlf, but for the -sake of-your moth er and sister—especially on. account.of your mo,ther foif! whose life you pretended n mo ment,qgo to feel an. amount of solicitude that would enable you'to make any sacrifice, ‘ For the.njoment I did not think of thcm>’ ‘lt’s time .you',did/ Since my counsel is so very unpaliitable, perhaps you will conde scend to inform mi)' what youproposo to do.’ ‘ Any thing els.o, but.jibis, is too horrible.’ The old lawyer, turned' his chair round, and commenced writing nt.liis'desk as coolly as if he had been di) iriftbnioua in dented for"other purposes.. X tfiou^h t on liis proposition till I. grew sick and faint.. .The recollection of the.consummate;ohartns of her I,loved added a liprror to the.aspect of hate,, such as she wore tjhopi X.was.invited tomako my own, and I .could f not bring my heart and. lips’to say yes’to such a destiny*. At last I rose and said; ’ ‘ I will call to morrow and give you my de cision.’ , , | . ‘ Very well,’ replied the old mfin, without turning Kia head or ceasing to write- ■ I'went homo and attempted to prepare ray toother for tee ruin that ~had befallen us : but in subject, found that it was mord than she could endure, nndrolin quished' (lie efiqjct in, despair..Topiy sifter f ventured ’to' tell the truth ■; and she wept bit terly, riot'ifor' het'sclf, but for.'our only par ent, who she assured nje WQuldjnovitably ex pire op lieiVlhg.lj)e news,- . ‘ And Wn’t ydu db it?’, i. "‘I can't bring,my mirtdto it?’ ‘"lt is dishonest?.’ , , i N—o, I don’t know thaf.it is, but very repugnant do .my, fqelirigS.’ j I am. sure I would do anything,for mam ma.’’ ' ■ •' " ~ ~ Would you-marry-the man-you abhor.— ‘ To save mamma’s life —yds.’ .‘Weil, then, I will not be outdone by you in filial affection.’ ? IVhat do you mean, Edward t! : ‘ I will tell you to-morrow. In the mean time chCer up. I will save our mother and you, but at' a great sacrifice—Heaven, only knows how, great.’ ‘ My sister flung her arms around my nook, kissed me affectionately, called me by many endearing names, and I felt as if I almost de served them, eSagerated as they were. 1 communicated .my decision to my law yer the next day, telling him that since I could not marry for love I would marry for hate'. , ; . He uttered a sort of grunt, and replied s ‘Few marriages begin in that waj'; but With too.raaiiy love is merged in antipathy, ns goon ft's the hon Cy-moon is Well over.. Your prospect of connubial happiness is the bright-' or, as it cannot" change but for the better.- If you know the lady as well as I do you would entertain tlo misgivitt'ga on the subject.’ On the second divjr after this interview I received Mrs. Barrington’s card and a writ ten request from my lawyer that I Should call Upon her without delay, ft’s he had settled the preliminaries in the mosl! satisfactory man ner. I did not fly on the wings of love to the stately mansion of my brido elect, as thorc b'ad been little choice in the matter, but wiilkcd thither like a. man who had volun teered tli be hanged. On Arrival I was ushered into a hand some drdwin'g-toom, in which I was kept waiting for (djodt a quarter of an hour when, .aUaaUh.9jadj..appßnTedr“Sho-did,not:look handsomer than When I met her on the stairs,' loading, to the lawyer's office. On the contra ry, the relation in which she now stood with respect to myself, and th'6 finery she had pi led upfin her person, rehdoted her, in my eyes, more hideous than ever. I responded to her salutation; and remain ed silent fora few moments. She appeared desirous of manifesting a oertifin measure of maidenly coyness,■ and I was; not indisposed to allow her all the' leisure site, required for the performance of her part When she had enacted the role to bet satisfaction, and lost a little patience, she'opened Upon the With the voice of a dying screech-owl, that made, mo shudder. ‘Well, Mr. Ingleton, the object of your visit is, I presume ’ ‘Yes, madam, it is as you say, to propose for your, hand, and heart; they are conven tionally supposed to go together— ’ *My hand and heart!’ she exclaimed, laughing. What a laugh it was. A ruined hurdy gurdy, Amaniao’s scream,'and the serenade of a starving oat combined Were music to it. ' Yes madam; and does this appear so ab surd to you?’, - ‘ Extravagantly, so.’ . * My lawyer has been authorized by ftio to make a proposition, which he has given me to understand has been favorably received. Has-ho.deceived me?’ ‘ Ndtat 'all; hut you have made a slight mistake in the person.’ : ‘ Are you not Mrs. Barrington ?’ . * That is my name, hut I presume you re fer to my niece.' ‘ This is very ridiculous. Shall I have the pleasure of, Seeing the right lady ?’. ‘ln a moment. She sent,mo to,prepare you for her coming.’ I ‘X do not'see the necessity.’ ‘ I presume not. I will explain, ’ although the subject is - a delicate'mne to Handle, A better-hearted girl than my niece Clara nev er lived, but she has soma personal, defects which, perhaps, only the eyes of affection can overlook, I mean to say, for instance, that she does not omoy the same personal advan tages as myself,’ r .* CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER t 1865; *T looked at the- speaker for a moment in amazement, on involuntary groan escaped my lips. ‘ It cannot Impossible 1 Is she deformed V .‘Oh, no; she is.as perfectly shaped as I am.’ ' ' ' 4 Indeed 7 What is it then.’ 4 A slight obliquity of vision, vthlch adds a puzzling and peculiar expression to the eyes. Her hair is of color against which there is a very unmerited prejudice ; hut, for myself, I never saw a finer or more brilliant red— With those exceptions, there exists a strong family likeness between us, especially ns re spects the roUndness and height of the shoul ders and the size of the feet.’ What an image of horror Was conjured up before mo. 1 Say no more 1’ I exclaimed wildly. This suspense is too dreadful. Let roe see the Wo- ; man herself, though the sight of her kill, me I’ ' ' ‘Then turn and lopkihipon yodr death 1’ cried a sweet voice behind,,mp,. ini a mock' tragic tone followed,by a silvery ringof laugh ter: . .. •. ! ~ I turned, and, to my inexpressible delight, beheld my adored black eyed beauty. ; r" ‘ And you—you —are ’ ‘ Not Miss Eastburn. That was my, maid-, on name , but Qlara;B,arri,ngton, Widow/ 1 foil at her feet, to Worship her, covered her hand wifh kisses, sprang to; my feet and clasped her,in r jny,arms.,. ‘ Claraßarrington, will. you become Clara Inglototi 7,!,’;.; ~p. ~ . 4 ln wliat’cxppllent practice you are 1 Wo shall havo. you proposing to the wholo fami ly. You . have begun bravely, first-to it ho' aunt, and then to,the niece Within five rain?, Utes. Aunt lias flod, as well she may from so dangerous a creature: What would have become of her had;l not rushed to the rescue, heaven only knows ! —I promise you 1 si,all be dreadfully jealous of ,her uind the superior pefsohill advantages she enjoys;’ ‘ Oil, vou have boon playing a rare game with mol’ . 4 A fair one. I have won your love fairly, and learnt at the same'time that, there was, right on,your, side.as yroll. as on mine, and I will he my owjn.qourt of equity, and do jus tice more over! handed than the law;’ , ■ 4 May I.qdt praise yqu,nqw 7’ 4 ,N0, hut you may —r—■ ‘.Do what?’: , , ‘ Love me just as much ,as you please.* ■. ‘‘Bride’’' Pomt'roy; Strikes Peler Olinm, Petrojeiirnl me. Elsp, why?* 'M*p. Moses ,smotp it the. p rock, arid ex*, ceedinc niucliqf tffO oil tfbactbft forfen. ,' And lam riclroilso. Xo doth vf.e.ll ngrGapo wiUp.me. '{ • v , » I . • ■ ; , j skirmished garret upon .the* oi.hre*_. glo£ .Ever since'l hecamo.bor.n, my poverty, has been’Hdrd tp bV borne'.. I have suffered ‘ —I have been borfc'd' My credit .was. r,un ■ into. the- ground. l s eoplo thought nxe.rioh meanwhile, and a very mean while it was, : tbb.,'' '■ - •, i -’i' : '>;;*■ •■■ • . They thought ilnbad plenty.! of moneys so they wanted pay dttfn lor wdmfcThftd:bougbt. jS’pf wishing’ to :Humor some* thing of a humorist, perhaps, I will not pur chase many things*; I leased, I bored, I -boughb-ifc,—Veub-ALidb-vicL Oil* i. lle*i. ; O'r'eas-b Oils well that ends well. I'bbred,.abd>i,t bime. 1 drilled a Hole through a rook, and have already been rewarded with bo much of the fuel being ..prepared”for’ the. final’conflagra ition/thKt Clear the last boil will end in as great a fizzle ae did the Dutch Gap Canal.— And'now Tara nch—more rich than any man oi any other. I have lots of money now— when I have no use for it'. Whata qhoer world. . Nothing like oil. Folks say, “ Hallo, here’s Honorable Miv Brick,’ just struck a fortune. Duced fine fellow,' Mr. “Brick.” Three months since I was plain “ Brick.” It’s ail owing to Petroleum, ■ And now for a splurge. Brown stone house'on Fifth Avenue, with brown stone front,.designed by old Lrown himself on both ends of it. Red horses with green tails, pink eyebrows, blue eyes, choco late colored ears, frizzled. mane and match less style. Yellow wagon iwith blnok sides, pllrplu blinds and brown top,' ala olnra shell. Ethiopian driver, with'kids, solferino stock-, ings, magenta bat-bands, and false teeth on gutta-percha base. And ft sixty four Ethip pinn, with brocatelle drawers, that modesty may not bo shocked by looking at the legs thereof. And a library devoted to redbaoks, and even, “greenbacks,” “ darn'the expense,” quoth I. And I’ll have a park in tho' wood shed, and a bathing tub full df oil in church,- an'd a buffalo to steak from, anti oysters as large as Lincoln’s majority, and boots with round toes and square heels, and a seat in some fashionable church, and newhpopskjrts fur all mry hired girls, and I will employ.,so many niggers to wait on me, that, oil I’ll have to do Will be to be happy. Oh Pete! let nie, kiss yon for your Ma. ' ' , ; t And I’ll lay a bed mornings, and sit up all nightj and boro my friends oil day, till.they, can’t bare’l it. Talk about honest'industry, sawing wood for the dust, opening ojstersibr the shells, blacking boots mbrely to see yb'ur frtofe in them; and being honest forty years waiting for sorad Hch man to adopt you.— Plrtyed. Petroleum is the Boy. And now I’lllive high. Out of dly house,pain pomp. Away from the cold outs, crackers, cheese, rnlish boiled, No. 5 mackerel, warmed soup, and brilliant appetites. I’ve struck Pete. A Frenchman near the Canada line, in Vermont, sold a horse to his Yankee neigh bor, which he recommended as being a very • sound and serviceable animal, in spite of his unprenoasesaing appearance. To every in quiry of the buyer respecting the qualities of the horse, the Frenchman gave a favorite reply, but always commenced his commenda tion" with the depreciatory remark i “ He’s not look ref gnod.’ , The Yankee flaring very little for the looks of the horse, of which lie judged for himself, without the seller’s assistance* and being ful ly persuaded after 1 a moment’s inspection, that the beast was worth the moderate, sum asked for him, made the purchase and took him home, A few, days afterwards he re turned in a high dudgeon, and declared that ho had been cheated in the quality of the horse. ~ “ Vat is de matter?”,said the Frenchman. “Matter?” said the Yankee, “matter enough; the horse can’t see; ; he..is as-blind as a bat 1” , “ Ahl” said _the Frenchman, “ vat I vns tell -you, ho was.not look yar good—be gar, X don’t know if he looi at all-’.’ , B©* Thera are worse serpents than those that crawl in the grass, and they deserve to lose their skins twice as often; (FT* Why are jokes like nuts? Because the drier they are the better they crack. A Pun That Is No. Joke. THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR, TIY THE LATE OEOnOE LIPPARir. They, brought him a dollar. 110 took it, clutched it in his long skinny fingers, tried its sound against the bed-post, and then gazed at it long and intently with his dull leaden eyes. That day, in the hurry of business. Death had struck him, even in the street. , lie was hurrying to collet the last month’s rent, and was on the verge of the miserable court where his tenants horded like beasts in their kennels—he was there with Jiis hand-book in hie hand, when Death IjVid his lmnd upon him. ■ ' v Ho whs carried home to h!s splendid man sion. Ho was laid upon a bed with a satin coverlet. Tho lawyer, the relations and the preacher wore sent for. All day long he lav without speech, moving only hie right hand, ns though in tho not of Counting money. At midnight ho spoke. Ho asked : fot a dollar and they brought one to him, and Jean and.gaunt ho sat up in his death-bed and clutched it with the grip of death. . A shaded lamp stood on it fahlo heay tnd silken bed-. Its light fell faintly around the splendid room, where Chairs.and carpets and .mirrors, silken hod'and lofty colling; all said Gold 1 ns plainly ns human lips can say.it._ : Jlis hair and eypbtows. were white. Hie cheeks sunken, and hie'Tips thin and sur rounded by wrinkles that l indicated the paa ,sinn, of Avarice.- As he sat up in the bed with hie neck bared and the silken coverlet wrapped about his lean frame, his whits hair mid eyebrows contrasted with his wasted and wrinkled face, he looked like a ghost. And there wns lifo in hie leaden eye —nil that life .was centered on tho Dollar, which.he gripped in liis clenched fist-. , His wife, a' pleasant-faced, matronly wo man, was seated at the foot o( the bed. Ilia ; Bon, a young man of twentyrpne, dressed in the last touch of fashion, sat by the .lawyer. The lawyer sat before the table, pen in hand rind gold spectacles on his nose: There was a hugo parchment spread before him. , i“;Do you think he will make a will 7”— asked'the son. • ■ ' “ Hardly compos mentis ypt,” was the whispered reply. “ Wait, lie’ll bo lucid af ter a while.” ‘ '■ ; , My dear,” sold the,wife, ‘.‘ had not I hot ter send fot a preacher 7” , She arose and took hor dying .husband, by’ tho hand but ho did not niindl His eyes were upon thO'Dollnr:' • • / Howns ti rich than.''■ - Ho owned palaces on Walnut tthd Chestnut streets, and hovels and ln tho outskirts. He hhd iron .mines in this State; copfie'f mines'on the lakes ■sndUwliero; he had golden inte'feats in Cali fornia/ Hie name-'waa bright oti the recordp, of twenty banks,; heowne etookrof nH.kinds ; ho had linif a.doien papers inrhia pay. r ... Ife' Know, but one prime—to be in debt ’without the power to,pay. ' / He Knew! hut .one Virtue—to iget money/ .That crime SiV had m.eyer forgiven—this virtue he had never forgotten, in the long way. of thirty five years... - , , , To hunt down a debtor, to distress a ten ant, to turn a few additional thousand' by a ulrarp—speculation:—-these—were-tha-main achievements of his life. He was.a good man—bis name was upon a silver plate upon 1 the pew-door of a velvet cushioned clulrdh. lie was a boneyolehl man—for every thou sand dollars that he wrung from the tenants of his court, of from the debtors who writhed beneath his heel, he gave-ten dollars'to some 'benevolent institution. Ho was a just man—the gallows and the jpU always found in him a faithful and un swerving advoooie. . , And now ho is a dying man—see ! As he sits upon tile bed of death, with the Dollar in his clenched hnpd. 0! holy Dollars, object of his life-long pur suit, what comfort hast thou for him now in his pain of death ? , , At I'ength the dead man' revived and dicta ted ibis will. It was strange to see the mo ther atd son and lawyer muttering and— sometimes wrangling beside the bed of death. All the while the Testator clutched the Dollar in his fight hand'. While the will was being made, the pfen cher came—oven he who hold the pastoral chqrgo of, the church, whose pew-doors boro saintly names, otf silver plates, and whoso seats on Sabbath day groaned beneath the weight of respectability, bfoaddloth and sa• tip.-, 1 .... ito catllo and said his prajor—decorily and in measured words —but ndvdt onoo did tho dying man relax his hold of the Dollar. ; “ Can’t you read mo something, say quick, don’t you soo I’m going?” at length’said the rich man, t(lining a frightened lodk toWard he preacher. , Tho proaoliCr, Wheat! Cravat wrts of tho whitest, took a book with golden clasps from a inatblß table. And he road ‘ And I say unto you It is easier for a cam el to go through the eye of a noodle, than a rich man to enter into tho Kingdom of God.’ ‘ (Vho said those words—why—who—who ?’ fairly shrieked the dying mam shaking the Hand Which clenched the Dollar at tho preaoh ePs head. ’ Tho preacher hastily turned over the leaf and did not reply. • Why did yoh never tell me of this before? Why did yod never preach from it as I sat in your church? Why-why?’ . Tho preacher did not reply, bat turned ov er another leaf. But the dying man would not be quieted. ‘ And it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to en ter the Kingdom of God, is it ? Then what’s to become of. me-?, Am I not rich? .What tenant did I ever spare ? What debtor did I ever release ? And you stood up Sunday after Sunday and preached to us, and never said a word about the camel. Not a word about the camel.’ The preacher, in searcb'of a consoling pas sage, turned rapidly over the leases, and, in his confusion, came 1 to this passage which he road: • Go to now, ye rich man,.weep and howl, for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a Witness against you and shall eat your flesh ns it were -fire; ye have heaped treasure together .for the last days. Behold the hire of the laborers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept bv fraudcrieth ; and the cries of them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabbath.’ • And yet yon,never preached that to me 1’ shrieked the dyipg man. ; , ■ ? The preacher, who had blundered through the passage frbm'James, which we have quo ted, knew not what to say. He was perchance terrified by the very look of the dying par ishioner. . Then the wife drew near and strove to comfort him, and the son (who had been- rea ding the. will), attempted , a .word or two of consolation. .... , But with tho Dollar in his hand ho sank into depth, talking of stock, of rent, of copper mino and camel, of tenant and debtor, until tho breath left his lips. Thus ho died. „ When ho was cold, the preacher rose and asked tho lawyer whether tho deceased hod left anything to such and such a charitable society, which had been engrafted upon the preacher's church'. And tho wife closed his eyes aVid tried to wrench the Dollar from his hand, but in vain. Ho clutched if as though it were the only sa viour to light him through tho dnrknoso of 'eternity. And the son sat down with dry eyes and thought of.tho hundreds of thousands which Were now his own. • Lfoxt day there was a hentso followed by a train of Carriages nearly a mile in length.— There Was S crowd around an open grave and an elegant sermon upon, the virtues of the de ceased by tho preacher. There was flutter ing of crape badges, and rolling, of Carriages, and—no tears. They loft the dead man and returned to the palace w'hero Borrow died pv pu as the crape was taken from the door ■knob.. , , And in tho grave the dead hand still clenched the Dollar. ' The Man who Won’t pav the Prin ter. —Says an exchange : May he ho shod with lightning and com pelled to wander over gunpowder. May ho have sore eyes and a ohestnuthurr for an eye stone. ’ .. . . May every day of his life ho more despotic than the Bey of Algiers. May ho never bo" permitted' to kiss a hand some wombn.., i., , , ... i May ho ho bored to death with Boarding- School Misses, practicing the first leasons .in music, without the privilege of seeing his tor mentors. . May 2.40 night mares trot quarter races over his stomach every night. ,- May hie boots leak, his gun and fishing lines break. May bis colTeo be sweptond with flips, and' his eaude seasoned with spiders and bedbugs. May his friend run of with his wife and his children take'the wluioping cou/b. May his cattle die of murrain, and his pigs destroy his garden. May a troop of prihtaf’s devils, lean lank and luingey, deg his heels onoh day, and a regiment of cats cater-waul under his window each niglit; ! • . ■ ■ ... , May the faUiine-stnokeri'ghPst p.f an edi tor’s hnhy haunt his elurabors,' and hiss mur der in hie dreaming carl , , -'J May his ’co\v give spur milk, rifad churn rancid butter; may his daughter marry a ono.ejpd, editor, his business' gb'to ruin and bo to the—Legislature. Homer tele'Darkey. — W e sa vf a Ultio diir 'koyon Main street yesterday 1 soliciting means from pedestrians to take mas ter in Georgia. A, gentleman'held a 1 filty cent currency ip htk jingera While the little darkey made the following sjjbeoh : : d , . “I want lo go back down'to'(Yeorgm to'old massa, knse Fd rather Jlb'Wid him onb yeah : dan-ahout-dia-wayralhmy-lifo. : —I--know3-I had no business follerih’ dom 1 Yanks oil’, no how ; .but it can’t be helped now. massa, an' !l' want to go back' down dhr,’ 'fore Winter sots in.” , T “Can’t you get along w'hore’you arp ?” , “ Well, I’se got a sho’ ting o’ libin wid him, an’ up heah I don’t know in do uihrnin’ ,whar Fee gwinb to Jan’ at night'f an’; den, you know, mahsa,' all the big niggos’ g'Wino to git de best an’ do fust ob what’s floatin’ [’bout, an’ ils little niggos kin do'da best we 'kin." : “ Hero, take this, it will help' you along.” “ It ’ll take me dat much nearer homo, ■ rnaasa;. ebery little helps, ye know, an’ I tanka jess at much fo’ dis aa if yo giro mo enuf to tote me all de way darl” I Thedittlo daVk'ey’s spfeech' attracted (Juite a crowd, who contributed liberally towards Bonding the little black wanderer , i “ Way dbvfn Smith in de land oli cotton, Where old times a*?6 not forgotten.” —Louisville Journal. A Ft* For a Young Gentleman.—The Mobile (Ala.)' Tribune says: A very nice young, gentlehian; whose name We do not deem' necessary to ventilate, recently invested a small sUm in.chickens, which Kff undertook to take home on the Dauphin street caw. After proceeding a short distance, the attention of all the pas sengers, a large proportion of whom' wore Indies, was, called to him by one of his pur chases raising a loud and Continued cackle. In Vain ho tried to quiet the bird; the la dies tittered and pulled down their veils; the gentlemen on board 1 haw-hawed,’ and our young friend, in his ignorance of “ the situation,” blushed. Growingsomowhnt rest less at being the cynosure of all eyes, ho cast a look into his lap, and behold —there was an egg. Ha immediately quit the oars and pur sued his way homeward on foot. Imagine his 11 pheelinfcs.” As Deacon A , on an eStrdmely cold morning in old times, was riding by the house of hisneigliborß “S the latter was chopping wood. The usual salutations were exchanged, the severity of the weather brief ly discussed, and the horseman made demon strations of passing oni When his neighbor detained him with-- “ Don’t be in a hurry, Deacon. 'Wouldn’t yon like a glass of old Jamaica this morn ing?” “ Thank, you kindly,” said the old gentle man, at the same time beginning to dismount, with all the deliberation becoming a Deacon. “ I don’t care if I do.” “Ah, don’t trouble yourself to got off, Dea con,” said the neighbor, “ I merely asked for information. We hayon’t'd drop in the house.” O' Among the saying attributed to Ad miral iWragUt is one.that * You can no more make a sailor out of a laridlubber by dress ing him up in a sea-toggory and putting a commission in his pocket, than you could make a shoemaker of him by-filling him with sherry cobblers!’ The New StVle. —if ho Japanese or Gipsoy style is making sad havoc with the hats of little misses. The pork-pie hat is rapidly becoming among the things that wore, and the broad brims, which make the wearer, look like a cross between a Japanese Tycoon and a Philadelphia, Quaker, are fast taking their place,. The next style will bo' “ some thing else.” -- fligy No more certain is it that the flower was.made to waft perfume, than that women's destiny is a, ministry of love. INDUS-fill?. One of the earliest: settlers pf the country round Lake Champlain was Colonel Ray? mond. . He understood the character and dia: position of the. redskin natives of the forest,, and lived. *vith them in much harmony, .fre quently.employing them to row him up ami down the jjake/.ds lie. had occasion.. On ( q stout fellow, by tho name of Bigbear, had hid wigwam at no great distance from the Col.'fl' dwelling, and was often there. Tho Colonel having occasion to visit uorno distant {shore of tho Lake,-employed Bigbear to row bipl, in his.cnnoc. On their return they passed near a high sloping lodge of rock, on which lay an ,immense number of rattlesnake’* asleep and basking in the sun. Tho Indiaft gave one penetrating look at tho Colonel and thus inquired * Raymun love fun ?* 1 Yes/ was the reply. 1 Well then Raymun have fun; mind Indi an, and hold your tongue/ So ho rowed alqng'ailentiand,slow,.anicui, a crotehod stick from a bunch of hazels upon tho bank. Steady;, now, Raymun,’ said ho, as ho 1 clapped the. cr’otched stick astride the neck of a serpent that was asleep close tothoedgo of the water. • Takouinnow, Ilnymun ; hole fuss.’ ■ ... < The Colonel then' took hold of the stick, : keeping the ,serpent down, while Bigboar.tied. up a little sack of powder, putting one end of a slow match therein. lie then made it fast' tp the match, gave orders to ‘lot um go,’ at' the same time pushing thi cahflo off from the shore. Thesnake being liberated, crawled away to his den., The Indian immediately' then stood up and clapped his hands, making as loud a noise as possible, and thus aroused 'the other serpents, who in'a moment disap peared. < , „ ■. . " . ..‘Now look, Raymun, look—see filn,’ said ho ; and in about a minute the powder explo ded, when there was, to bd sure, fun alive.—t The' snakes in thousands bovored the rookj all hissing, rattling, twining, twirling and jump ing in every why imaginable. Colonel Ray mond burst into a loud laugh that echoed across the lake, pleased alike with the suc cess of the trick and the ingenuity of the savage’s invention/ Bin Bigbear, from'the beginning;tp the end whs as grave asa judge; not moving a muscle, and not buying,tub least show of risibility in. his countenance.'— This it truly clmrabtoribtid of the Atnerioail aboriginidh; What causes the greatest excita bility of laughter in others baa no effect dhoti them'; they remain sober, sedate and fixed ns a' bronze slaluij. .They nfay love fuh, but never in tlid ls amhllost dogreh exhibit that .character in ilieir looks. Reverse of Fortune. —Among'thosb who have been reduced from affluence th squalid poverty by the fosults of. war in' Virginia, and wild have hosh.,compelled,to soek Chari ty at' the'blinds of Governor Pierpont, of that State, is h daughter of the late voriCrabld Chief Justice Marshal. Before the War this family was' one of the, wealthiest’ in the State. Tho husband of tho lady referred to, being old and a cripple, and his family help less,’had sold his real estate, and iiVvCatoci his uihdS in railroad stocks and ndgroOs, and now, at the close of the war, finds this source of income entirely removed froth their control, and themselves reduced to the' most abject poverty. Those are some'of the peo ple whom the radicals desire to' put under the dominion'of negroes. Although-crushed they must be reorushed. O” The common expression ‘‘humbug,’ is a corruption of the word ‘ Hamburg,' and originated ihthe following mnnnoi*: During a period when war prevailed on the Conti nent, So mady false reports, and lying bulle tins wore fabricated' at" Hamburg, that at length, when any one would signify his dis belief of a statement, hd would say: ‘You had that front Hamburg'; and-thus ‘ That is Hamburg,’ or humbug, became a c'ohimon expression'of incredulity. O* Nothing teaches patience like it gar den. You may go round nod watch the opeuitig bud' from day to day; but it takes its own time, and you cannot urge it on fast er than it Will; All the beat results of a gar den, like' those Of life, are Slowly but regu larly progressive. . We like the story of a blacksmith; who was requested, to bring n suit for slan der. He said ho could go into his shop and hammer nut a bettor character than all the courts ill'the State could give him. ITT- It is said that the muster out of the Veteran Iteservos will certainly take place before the meeting of Congress. The privates of the Reserves wish to be mustered out, while, the officers do not; HHj’’ ‘ I mourn, for my bleiding country,’ said a certain army contractor to General Sheridan; I So you ought, you scoundrel,’ said Sheridan, fir no one has bled her raord than you have.’ O” * Didn’t you guarantee, sir, the borao wouldn’t shy before the fire of the enemy? ’ 'No more he won’t. ’Tisn’t till after the fira that ha shies.” O' At a printer’s festival recently, thti fol lowing toast was offered : ‘ Woman—second only to the Press in the dissemminatloU of news.' 01?' A terrible affray ooonrrtd at an elec tion poll in Fremont county, lowa, on elec< tion day, in which ten persons were so seri ously injured, that their lives are in dangon O' J. tn Alcorn has been elected U. S. Senator from Mississippi, lie and Govern or Sharkey will represent the' State in tba Senate. ■ ■ Egy PierrO Soule, R.M. T. Hunter, and Biohatd Taylor, prominent rebels, are., id Washington. BQy To tell lies before,-you get up in the morning is no sin. It is only lying in .he'd. ESjf Why talk about sleeping a wink When people in fhoir sleep never wink.- John Mitchell’s release: is OOnfiffu ed. ~ •, JjSt' Lawyers mouths are like, tOrnpiko' gate's—never open except for pay. .63?* Tf you miss a train' you don’t have' to wait for it—and that’s n comfort. S&" Why is. necessity like a great man; lawyers? Because it knows no law.- NO. 2D.-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers