I ERICAS _VOLI'STF.ER. <s■ Ml ,i ~iz~ tit stit 41 #1 it it f pptf £BtfSS£U&£s3 PPi W <PI 'W i|P if i|i| l|l| if lv / ia./' tree months; after which Three Dollars Vw - J ' barged. These terms will bo rigidly ad-' £ In every instance. No subscription dls-' ■ :d until all arrearages are paid, unless at Bv r>r» l mmrvAT o irmuTTmir ’ " ' roofth9Edltor - ■ • BY BRATTON & REMEDY. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 28, 1866 r VOL. 53 professional Olarfcs. . B. BUTLER, Attorney at aw, Carlisle, Penna. Office with Win. J. - • „ <•* * BELTZHOOVER, Attorney <= d Counselor at Law, Carlisle, Penna. c0 ’' South Hanover street, opposite Bentz’s iV” ly special arrangement with the Potent ■fn tends to securing Patent Rights. e , ‘ . BELTZHOOVER, Attorney -re- Law and Real Estate Agent. Shepherds- cO l^ !St Virginia. Prompt attention given to e ■ ess in Jefferson county and the Counties gr flB6o—ly. - -y<> Y. FOULK, Attorney at Law.' ad Ice with Wm. M. Penrose, Esq., Rheem’s .. J 1 business entrusted to huh will be " to. f , , J. SHEARER, Attorney &o. r Law, Carlisle. Pa. Office near Court , i»- outh side of Public Square, In “ Inhofl’s _ * second floor. Entrance, Hanover Street. J bctlclng InaU the Courts of this Judicial prompt attention will .be given to all In the Counties of Perry and Juniata, as -o w* f Cumberland. Htr r , 1860—ly*. _ fV 5. E. MAGLAUGHLIN, Attor- - nfr ' AT Law. Office in Building formerly ' 4410 by Volunteer, a few doors South of Han- - go tejU s _ a( ) ' KENNEDY Attorney at Law, larllsle, Penna. Office same ns that of ..av irlcan Volunteer,” South side of the Pub -3WBHAM, Attorney at Law. otb ace with Wra. H. Miller, Esq., South- -i» r ier of Hanover and Pomfret streets. [B6&^tf. HERMAN, Attorney at Law. " Qco In Rheem’s Hall Building, in the I e Court House, next door to the “ Her- Penna, . SADLER, Attorney at Law,’ arlisle, Penna, Office in BuUdlng for cupied by Volunteer, South Hanover IS A. DUNBAR, Attorney at Carlisle, Penna. Office a few doors lannon’s Hotel. . C. GRAHAM, Attorney at Office formerly occupied by Judge South Hanover street, Carlisle, Penna. 365—1 y. WEAKLEY, Attorney at Law. e on South Hanover street. In the room occupied by A. B. Sharpe. Esq. LEE, Attorney at Law, Hanover Street, Carlisle, Pa„ 1800—ly. ICIAN AND ACCOUCHOUR. ouis P. Griffin, (formerly of New York,) irmnnently located at Carlisle, solicits L Patronage of the oltizens of this place, undings. Particular attention paid to of Women and Children. Office at Souse, Room 32. , 1866—6m* N. ALLEN, M. D., (late Surgeon Army,) having permanently located In o, Frankfort township, will attend to all tal calls. He respectfully solicits the i of the citizens ox this place and vlcinl i at the residence of Mr. Wm. Bloser. , 1866—1 y. GEORGE S. SEARIGHT, Den- From the Baltimore College of Dental Office at the residence of nls mother, her Street, three doors below Bedford, Nenna. 'ISTRY—Dr.W.B. Shoemaker— tlcal Dentist, Newville, Pennsylvania, door North of the Post Office. 1806.—1 y. . C. LOOMIS, Dentist, has re jd from South Hanover Street to West breet, opposite the Female High School, enna. iT F. MILLER, SURVEYOR Draughtsman, Mount Rock, Cumber ity, Pa. Will attend promptly to all bu rusted to-him. L806.—3m.* iißefclcal. I LERA. KREAT ZINGARI BITTERS. iderfal remedy was;dlscovered and in ,bout twenty years ago by Dr. S. Cheop inent Egyptian physician, long seen and felt the want of some tiich would strike the root of disease, nt much of the suffering which the hu ly was then compelled to endure; sat question was presented to his mind r in vivid colors as he moved among the lying, and observed the inefficiency ol the remedies then in use. Thus he was Ut and experiment; and after ten years ad labor he presented to his fellow man irful ZINGARI BITTERS. The effect oil vration in ,lhe prevention and care ol" as so marvelous and astonishing that flattering marks of royal lavor were upon him who discovered it. His name 1 upon the Roll of Nobles, and a gold th the following Inscription: Dr 8. the Public Benefactor, was presented the Viceroy. )aratlon has been used in several epl cholera, both as a preventive and cura ire, and with such great success, that it ntroduced Into nearly ull the general )f the old world, saying that an ounce of prevention is ound of cure, applies igfth marvelous holera, and therefore any remedy that :t us against this terrible disease should .nd persistently used, lologists now agree that the cholera ts on the system through the blood, ny combination which acts on the ex gans, and keeps them In working or prevent a sufficient accumulation of . to exert ltd terrible effects on the or chis is true not only of cholerra, bat of . other maladies, especially the differ of fever. v faro. Bitters is Just such a remedy os the ditions require. It acts on the organs mi and secretion, keeping up a perfect >t Ween them. This Bitters is composed f {roots and. herbs, so nicely concocted ■ organ Is acted upon and put in tone, s pleasant and Its effects prompt and as cases of the following diseases have 1 by it: Cholera, Diarrhoea, Dysentery ,- Kncemla, Dyspepsia, Flatulency, Cholic, ie Dollar per quart bottle. il depot at the Walnut street wharf, •g, Pa. sale by George Winters, wholesale and lor dealer, Second Street, Harrisburg, iwer’s liquor store, and at the Franklin rllsle. • F. RAHTER, Sole Proprietor. . 1806—8 m. Ip EPB I A ! ~~ r ~ : ' ■ermanently cubed by ON’S DYSPEPSIA TROCHES wia Permanently Cubed ok the Money Refunded. roches not only give immediate relief re to effect a permanent cure in Dys hey are not a purgative, and therefore does not create a necessity for the ho of Garthatics. They cause no sickness fnach pr griping of the bowels, and are harmless to the most delicate. « 11 immediately correct a sour Stomach, Hence, Heartburn, Sickness or Pain in och, Costiveness, Belching of Wind, jplatnt. Headache, and in fact all those bid and dangerous symptoms of this thl'lr,unlit one for the pleasures and ad delicate persons wBo have been in he use of powerful stimulants and pur ;lU flnd them a mild, safe and sure res he .digestive organs to their original md vigor. d solely by the proprietors, . : 8. J. VANDBRBLOOT & CO., Chemists, 718 Market Street, Phll’a. RALSTON, Druggist Carlisle, Cumberland a;, sole, agent for Cumberland County, .ipjgf UBelstB - ' ERI : HE ARY 1 —We have Pho- Pas, large and small, of Clymeraud Gea- J 8 warned to sell them. Send 75 cents by m M!»l d ca t (JU Olieatnut Street, PMla. (Eitg atrbmteentents. //DIAMOND DEALER & JEWELER^ II WiTCIIES, JEDELKT * BItTER WIRE, II VWATOHE3 and JEWELBT REPAIRED.,/ jog Chaahmt HAS ON HAND A LARGE & SPLENDID ASSORTMENT OP DIAMOND JEWELRY OP ALL KINDS. StTCH AS ' RINGS, PINS, STUDS. DIAMOND SETS, &C„ ALSO, ON HAND A LARGE ASSORTMENT OP AMERICAN, SWISS & ENGLISH WATCHES. MY ASSORTMENT OF JEWELRY 18 COMPLETE IN ALL RESPECTS, Embracing Articles of the Highest Cost, AS ALSO, Articles of • Comparatively Small Value. A VERY LARGE STOCK OF PLAIN RINGS ON HAND. SILVERWARE OE ALT. KINDS, ALSO FANCY SILVERWARE SUITABLE FOR BRIDAL PRESENTS, ENGAGEMENT AND WEEDING RINGS ALWAYS ON HAND. Particular Attention Paid to Sepairtng Watches. Diamonds and all other Precious* Stones BOUGHT FOR CASH, , AS ALSO, OLD-GOLD AND SILVER COUNTRY TRADE SOLICITED. Feb. I,lBoo—ly. JgJ &H. T. ANTHONY & CO., Manufacturers of Photographic Materials WHOLESALE AND RETAIL, 601 BROADWAY NEW YORK, In addition to our main business of PHOTO GRAPHIC MATERIALS, 'We are headquarters for the following, viz: Stereoscopes and Stereoscopic Views. Of these wb have an Immense assortment, in cluding VIEWS OF THE WAR, Obtained at great expense and forming a com plete Photographic History of the Great Union Contest. Bull Run, Dutch Gap, Yorktown, Pontoon Trains, Gettysburg, Hanover Junction, Fair Oaks, Lookout Mountain, Savage Station, Chickahorainy, Fredericksburg, city Point, Fairfax, Nashville, Richmond, Petersburg, Deep Bottom, Belle Plain, Monitors, Chattanooga, - Fort Morgan, Atlanta, Charleston, , Mobile, Florida, , Strawberry Plains, &c., ' &0., &c. American and Foreign Cities and Landscapes, Groups, Statuary, &c., &c. Also, Revolving Ster eoscopes, for public or private exhibition. Our Catalogue will be sent to any address on receipt of Stamp. PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS. We were the first to introduce these into the United States and we manufacture immense quantities in great variety, ranging in price from oO cents to 850. Our ALBUMS nave the reputa tion of being superior in beauty,and durability to any other. They will be sent by mail, Free, on receipt of price. * BQT" FINE ALBUMS MADE TO ORDER. Tbe Trade will find our Albums the most Sale able they can buy. CARDPHOTOGRAPHS Our Catalogue now embraces over Five Thou sand different subjects (to which additions are continually being mode) of Eminent Americans, &c., ylz: about 100 Mag-Gens., 100 Lieut. Cols., 650 Statesmen, 100 Brig. . “ 250 other Officers, 180 Divines, 375 Colonels, 75 Navy Officers, 185 Authors, 40 Artists, 125 Stage, 50 Prominent Women, 3,000 Copies of Works of Art, Including reproductions of the most celebrated Engravings, Paintings, Statues, &c. Catalogues sent on receipt of Stamp. An order for .One Doz en Pictures from our Catalogue, will be filled on receipt of 81.80, and sent by mail, free. Photographers and others ordering goods O. O. D., will please remit twenty-five per cent, of the amount with their order. J9S* The prites and quality of our goods cannot fall to satisfy. May 17, 1860.—3 m pi REMINGTON & SONS, MANUFACTURERS OF REVOLVERS, RIFLES MUSKETS AND CARBINES,, For the United States Service. Also, POCKET AND BELT REVOLVERS, REPEATING PISTOLS, * - RIFLE CANES REVOLVING RIFLES, Rifle and Shot Gun Barrels, and Gun Materials, sold by Gun Dealers and the Trade generally. In these days of Housebreaking and Robbery , every House, Store , Bank, and office , should have one of REMINGTON’S REVOLVERS. Parties desiring to avail themselves of the late improvements in Pistols, and superior workman ship and form, will find all combined in the New REMINGTON REVOLVERS. Circulars containing cuts and description of our Arms will be furnished upon application. E. REMINGTON & SONS, liion, N. Y. Moore & Nichols, Agents. No. 40 Courtland St., New York. April 12,1866—Cm. REAT CLOSING-OUT SALE U OF GOLD AND SILVER WATCHES. Owing to the great decline in gold and general depression of business, the Geneva Manufactur ing Campany are desirous of disposing of their stock'of watches Immediately, for cash, and as their Agents, we have concluded to adopt the av erage plan, and have put the price at the low fig ure of 812 each, thus bringlnglt within the reach of all to obtain a valuable time-piece. All the following SPLENDID WATCHES to be sold at 12 DOLLARS EACH: 150 Gold Hunting Case Clironom. Watches. $l5O to 8300 each 150 Gold Hunting Case Duplex Watches, 125 to 200 each 200 Gold Hunting Case Pat. Lev. Watches, 100 to 175 each 200 Gold Hunting Cose Leplne Watches, 75 to 150 each 800 Gold Plated on Sterling Sil ver Coses Patent Lever watches, 50 to 100 each 250 Ladles’ Gold Hunting Case / Watches, 100 to 120 each 300 Ladies' Gold and Enamelled Watches, 250 Ladies’ Gold Patent Lever Watches, 75 to 125 each 800 Ladies'. Gold Lepine Watches, 60 to 100 eaoh 400 Solid Silver Case Duplex Watches, 40 to 100 each 400 Solid Silver Cose Pat. Lev. Watches, , 35 to 75 each 400 Solid Silver Case Lever Watches, 80 to 60 each 500 Solid Silver Case Leplne Watches, 25 to 75 each 600 Gold Composite Hunt. Case Watches, 25 to GO each 600 Gold Composite Leplne Watches, 20 to 50 each 500 Silver Lever Watches, 25 to 75 each 400 Silver Leplne Watches, 25 to 60 each All the above splendid watches will be sold for $l2 each. We have adopted the following plan: Certificates describing eaoh Watch ana its val ue are prepared and placed in sealed envelopes. These Certificates can be obtained at our omce, and the holder will be eniitled to the Watch it Colls for, upon payment of the 12 Dollars and re turn of the Certificate. This is not a lottery, but a bona fide sale, and any one wishing to avail themselves of this opportu nity, should send at once and procure a certifi cate, and os there are no blanks every one must get a Watch at half the usual price at least, and many will get a splendid Gold Watch for the tri fling sum of 812. , Certificates sent/jjpy mail to any address for 50 cents each. Five will be sent for 82. Fftcen for $6. Thirty-five for 810. When the goods are or dered, the Certificate must be returned with the money, and orders will be promptly filled. Address OIIjLE£PI£, MAXSON & CO.. 80 Bookman Street, New York. June 14,1868-Ira.- Father, dear father, come homo with mo now! The clock in the steeple strikes one; You were coming right home from the shop As soon as your day’s work was done. Our flrehos gone out—our house is all dark— • And mother’s been watching since tea, With poor brother Benny, so sick, In her arms; And no one to help her but me. Come homo 1 come home I come home! Please, father, dear father, come home! Father, dear father, come homo with me now I The clock In the steeple strikes two, The night has grown colder—and Benny Is worse; But ho has been calling for you. Indeed hels worse—ma says ho will die ; Perhaps before morning shall dawn I And this is the message she sent me to bring— Come quickly, or he will be gone! Father, dear father, come home with me now The clock in the steeple strikes three; The house is so lonely—the honrs are so long For poor weeping mother and me! Yes, we are alone—poor Benny Is dead J And gone with the angels of light: And these were the very last words that he said: “ I want to kiss papa, to-night I” , Como home! come homo! come homo I Please, father, dear father, come home I Hear the sweet voice of the child, Which the night-winds repeat as they roam ; Oh! who could resist the most plaintive of prayers, Please, father, dear father, come home I [From the London, Keepsake.] STORY OF CAEN. The city of Caen was the residence of a widow named Duohaisne; in her youth she had been remarkable for her beauty, and no less so for' the numerous good qualities that added lustre to her charms.— Very early in life she bad married Mi chel Duohaisne, and for some months she and her husband had enjoyed as much felicity as could well fall to the lot of two human beings; but “all that’s bright must fade,” is a truism too well known to be disputed. Ere the flrstyearof their wedded life had passed over their heads, Michel was torn from her, and taken off as a conscript to join the army ; he never returned. The little Elise, who was born but a short time after his departure, nev er saw her father; and though the first word she learned to Jjyp was his name, he heard not that temler and endearing appellation uttered by his child ; he had fallen in the field, victorious, and she was an orphan ere she knew what it was to have a father. Years passed on, and Elise underwent the natural transition from a lisping child to a tali, blooming girl. With her moth er’s beauty, she also inherited her many virtues, and none looked upon Elise with out a blessing, and a prayer that her lot in life might be happier than that of hei* who gave her birth. With such endowments, mental and personal, Elise could not fail to have nu , merous suitors, and among the number was one who might have commanded the smiles of many a more high-born maiden than the conscript’s daughter; the lover in question an Englishman, notquite ‘un milordAnglais,’hattheelderßon ofacoun try gentlemen of a large fortune and good family. Young, inexperienced, full of ardent and romantic feelings, and more than all, desperately In love, Henry Riv ers did not see any thing like an impos sibility in marrying ‘la dame de ses pbn seesS and he Intimated much to the blush ing Elise, whose downcast eyes and dimp ling smiles told him that the idea was any thing but disagreeable to her. Accord ingly, after various consultations, it was resolved that Henry should return to England Instead of continuing the tour he had intended to make (which he could thejnore easily do as the period for his going home had nearly arrived, and the last few months he had spent at Caen, where by his family supposed to have been occupied in traveling throughout various parts of France,) and endeavor to obtain the consent of his father, or at least make some arrangement with re spect to his marriage with Elise; for, with or without consent, he was determined it should take place. He wentaccordingly, , having agreed with Elise that they should keep up a constant correspondence, and that the moment their fate was decided, ho would return and claim her as his bride. So much for one of Elise’s sutors; but there was another, of a character very •different from that of Henry Rivers.— Antoine Leroux was the son of a neigh bor of Elise’s mother; from his very childhood he had been a wild, violent, and ungovernable boy, and when only fourteen had, in a fit of passion, caused by a well-deserved chastisement inflicted by his father, ran away from home, and until his return, nearly twelve years af terwards, none knew what had become of him. With respect to the manner in which those years had been spent, very little satisfaction could be obtained from him ; indeed, few cared to question him closely, for though no longer violent and passionate as formerly, there was at times a sullenness and suppressed bitterness in his manner, that by no means invited confidence, and effectually checked any expression of curiosity upon a subject he was evidently anxious to avipd. Antoine Leroux’s return to Caen had taken place a short time before Henry Rivers had arrived there; he saw Elise, and loved her, but as she did not seem t» give much encouragement to his first advances, he delayed the confession of his passion till she appeared more favor ably disposed to receive it. In the mean time Henry Rivers stepped in, and An toine saw, with mingled rage and terror, the commencement of an- attachment which would, if continued, give the death-blow to all his hopes. Rendered desperate by jealousy, alarm, and resent mentHhe resolved to throw himself at the Ret of Elise, know his fate at once, and act accordingly;—the result of this step it is needless to relate—he was re jected, gently but firmly, and he left the presence of the woman he had so madly loved, muttering curses and threats of terrible vengeance upon her and her more favored lover. 75 to 150 each Months rolled on ; Henry Rivers had gone to England, and Elise had now no happiness but in thinking of him, writ ing to him, and reading his letters over and over again. There Is no study so deep to a as the letter of the man she loves; she first skims rapidly over it, to gain a general idea of its con tents ; then she takes it by passages, se lects those that contain particular sen tences, then examines these sentences themselves; and finally comes to the separate words that form them, weighs them accurately, resolves them to their precise meaning, and measures the exact amount of tenderness they contain; then there are the dashes, the notes of admira tion and interrogation,—these are in them selves a study, giving force, expression, and depth to the whole; then, If there has been a word erased, it is a matter of deep consideration and conjuncture what that word was, and what the motive for €09112 home:, father. BY MISS POWER, its erasure?—in shorty there is not a stroke —a mark, that .is not invested with a peculiar meaning and importance, that would seem ridiculous to all but the wo man who has thus translated it. Ye lukewarm lovers, who would feign a pas sion you do not feel, be careful how you express it in your letters—you know not the ordeal they undergo! Pardon, gentle reader, for this digres sion ;‘but it may be interesting to some, who can recognize its truth, and useful to others as a warning. For some time after Henry’s departure, affairs went on as usual; at least, so It appeared to Elise, who was too deeply occupied in her own thoughts to observe what was passing around her ; but after a while, it struck her that her neighbors and acquaintances seemed less cordial, less friendly than formerly. “ Perhaps,” thought Elise, “I have been so much engaged in my own thoughts and feel ings of late, that I have neglected my former friends, and they think me un kind and cold to them ;” and with many self-reproaches, the gentle and amiable girl endeavored, by every means in her power, to do away with -the erroneous impression she imagined they had form ed ; but she was astonished to find that all her efforts were vain; her advances were rejected—her companionship avoid ed ; those who before met her with a warm greeting, now passed her quickly by with averted heads; even her young .companions, who had always hailed her society with delight, seemed embarrassed in her presence, and anxious to escape from it. What could be the cause of such a change ? Vainly she endeavored to account for it; she could obtain no solution of the mystery, until one day she ventured timidly to question one of those who thus coldly regarded her, an ■ old woman who had formerly treated her with kindness. 11 Those who would try to rise above their station generally meet with a heavy fall, and then they must bear the disgrace as well as the pain of it,” was the reply of the crone. For a moment Elise remained silent and bewildered; she was utterly unable to account for these words, or to compre hend their signification; then suddenly their meaning rushed upon her in its full force, and the heart-stricken girl, bursting into a paoßion of—tcoro, buried her face in her hands, and went to conceal her grief and her outraged feelings from all eyes. Now the veil was with drawn—now she knew why she was avoided and looked coldly upon —her good name was gone, and by no fault of her own. She felt her innocence, but could she pursuade others of it?—andber mother, when she heard idle tongues speak lightly of her-ehild's fair "fame, what must be her anguish! All these considerations came with such over whelming violence upon the- unhappy Elise, that for a moment she wished she could lay down her head and die, to escape from the load of suffering that pressed upon her. After a time she be came calmer, and then she began to think what could have given rise to the reports against her, evidently in circulation.— Who could have traduced her name ? that some person had done so, she was convinced from various circumstances; in the first place, her character had been too well known to admit of its being sus pected, without very strong grounds, and something like a proof of guilt; secondly, there had never been anything in the manner or conduct of Henry Bivers that could compromise her, for he had ever treated her with a respect the most mark ed and the most profound; and thirdly, it was not until he had been absent for some time tiiat the cha'nge became appa rent ; for no one had ever hinted aught against the purity of Eiise, while he re _ mained near her. All these circumstan ces assured her that she was the victim of some plot to destroy her reputation.— The next point was to discover the author of such a scheme; but this it was not so easy to do, and for a long time she con sidered in vain who could thus have tra duced her, and what could be the motive for such bitter injustice. Header, perhaps you may already have guessed that Antoine Leroux was the secret enemy of the unfortunate Eiise, and so it was. From the moment of her rejection of his suit, he had determined to leave no means untried to ruin Eiise in the eyes of the world, well knowing that to one so sensitive and pure-minded, this would be the most signal vengeance he could inflict. But the better to conceal his plan he had never openly testified his resentment; therefore, she was prevented from suspecting him as the author of the calumnies against her. Poor Eiise! how had a few weeks chan ged her position! But a little while be fore she was happy in the presence of her lover, and in the good opinion of all around her; now he was gone, and those who once smiled, regarded her with the glance of cold suspicion; even the very priest, who had so often given her his benediction, now looked upon her as a lost and erring creature, and blamed while he pitied her; for Antoine’s plots were so well laid, that he succeeded in bringing forward what appeared irrefragible proofs of the unhappy girl’s guilt. - Day after day passed on, bringing no relief to the poor injured Eiise. At length her health began to suffer under the mis ery she was daily doomed; to undergo; but still she never hinted at her suffer ings to her lover ; for she fully confided in his promise of returning as soon as he found it ppssible to do so, and in the meantime she was too generous to pain him, even allowing him to suspect her wretchedness, or the cause of it. But even in this world, guilt, sooner or later, generally brings its own punish ment ; and Antoine, wicked and treach erous as he was, could not, after the first moment of triumph, see the altered looks of his victim without some feelings of compunction. She was so meek, so un complaining in her grief, that even he, knowing her innocence, was at times moved; but then came the recollection that she had refused him for another, and at that thought all the demon was once more roused within him, and he joyed in his vengeance. Antoine’s feelings towards Eiise were • a strange mixture of love and hate, and many and fierce were the contests be tween the two passions ; at length the struggle became almost too great for en durance, and he resolved once more to fly from his home, and strive in absence to forget his love, and learn only to tri umph in his revenge. The day was fixed for his departure; but ere he fled forever, he resolved once more to see her who occupied all his thoughts—who had called forth all the best and the worst feelings of his nature. For this purpose, when the vesper bell sounded, he took his way to the church of St. Pierre, where he knew Eiise was ever constant at her devotions. Conceal ing himself in the shade of a pillar, he watched her arrival; soon she came, and kneeling before the altar, began her humble and earnest-prayer. The sight of that young, and innocent, and sorrow stricken creature, was a spectacle that might have melted a heartof adamant; — The sun had set; but the sky still glowed with a glory never seen but at that gor- ■ geous hour; and as Eiise knelt, the full tide of light fell upon her graceful form. At first she prayed silently, with herhead bowed on her breast, upon which her hands were crossed; and ever and anon a large tear trickled down her pale cheek, and fell upon the marble pavement.— , Then, after a time, her devotion became more earnest; her spirit rose under the heavenly influence of prayer; she raised her head, and the glorious light streamed through the vast window, full upon her upturned face. Heavens! what a face it was! Sorrow and suffering had taken from it its roundness of contour, its fresh bright color, and it was pale and thin, and bathed withlears; but there was a glory -in those largo gazelle eyes—an ex pression of deep, holy love, and hope and reverence, shed over every feature, that told of grief and human suffering, over come by ardent and earnest prayer. An toine gazed till he could gaze no more.— “ Angel of purity, thou shalt have jus tice!” he whispered inwardly. At that moment Eliso bowed as she concluded her devotions, and in the action, a small miniature of her lover, that she always wore in her- bosom, escaped from the folds of her fichu, and fell on the marble floor. In an Instant the current of re turning tenderness in the breast of An toine was changed to bitter hatred and fury; the demon was once more at work, and laughed as ho hugged the captive who had so nearly escaped his thraldom. Antoine rose, and rushed from the church cursing his destiny, and vowing eternal -Vengeance upon the innocent cause of his frenzy. The next day, at dawn, Antoine had left his native town, resolving never to return to it. Ho wandered from place to place, “ seeking rest, but finding none.” A spectre continually haunted him; day , and night it was ever before him—the face of Eliso, pale and te.ar-stained; —per- haps ere this the grave had closed over her wrongs and her sufferings, as he was a murderer! This idea floated ceaseless ly in his brain —never for an instant was it absent from his thoughts; in the silence of the night, in the busy hum of day, a voice was over whispering nt his heart— “ She is dead—killed by thee!” At length his sufferings became beyond en durance—“ Angel of purity, thou shalt have justice!” once more murmured the holy influence. . The old priest who mourned over the supposed guilt of Elise, was one night re tiring to his humble couch, when a loud knocking at the door made him, in some surprise, hasten to ascertain who his un seasonable visitor might be. As he open ed it, a man, enveloped in a large hood cd cluuk, eiiUiiud trie luwl,y npartineut, and having seen the door closed, he sud denly throw off the disguise, and discov ered to the wondering priest the features of Antoine Leroux ! Without prelude— without any attempt to excuse or palliate his guilt, the wretched man confessed all his sin—all the motives for it; and then, in conclusion, faithfully promised that ere the following night, Eliso should stand in the sight of the world, pure and unstained as she was in the sight of heav en- % As the vesper bell once more sounded from the church' of St. Pierre, Eiise, ns usual, wended her way thither, and kneeling at her accustomed place, began her devotions; but, notwithstanding all her efforts to fix her attention, it was con tinually attracted by the groans of a pen itent, who, prostrated on the floor before the altar, wept and prayed in alternate despair and hope. He appeared to be a tall and a young man; but both face and figure were so shrouded in n sort of cloak, that it was impossible to form any accu rate idea of his appearance. By degrees his groans subsided, and he remained ap parently buried in deep and silent pray er ; while Eiise contmed her devotions with renewed earnestness. One tiling, however, struck her with both surprise and pleasure—that frequently when she turned, she met the eye of the old priest (who was seated near her,) fixed upon her with a kind and unsuspicious glance, totally different from the half-sad, half censuring look she was wont to see. This circumstance gave her a degree of satis faction she had not experienced for many long months, and her heart felt cheered, and lightened of much of its grief. At length the service -was over, and all rose to depart, with the exception of the shrouded penitent, who remained pros trate before the altar. The old priest ad vanced and touched him on the shoulder, but he continued motionless; he then ad dressed him—still he stirred not. Some of the congregation, moved by curiosity, came forward; they raised him, and dis covered the features of Antonie Leroux, set in death! In his bosom was found a paper, containing a full confession of his own guilt, and the innocence of the wronged Eiise, who, weeping with de light and agitation, returned to her home to relate to her mother all that had oc curred. Here a new surprise awaited her—during her absence Henry Bivers had arrived! He was now perfectly Iree; his father was dead, and ho was his own master. Need we relate the first use he made of his liberty? Suffice it to tell you, gentle reader, that as soon as the year of mourning had passed over, he returned to his beautiful country seat in “merrie England,” to place Eiise ns its mistress. Dan Bice’s Elephant ona" Tear.” —Our renders will remember the ele phant “ Borneo,” with Dan Bice’s show, which was in mis city a week ago. This animal for some time has been showing indications of a spirit of insubordination. He showed a bad disposition on the road between Carbondale and Mt. Pleasant, refusing to turn out for teams, &c. Ar riving at New Milford, and still being unruly, Bice concluded to subdue him, and for this purpose they chained his hind legs to a tree and endeavored to fas ten a rope to his fore leg, and by this means throw him. After many fruitless attempts the effort was successful. The rope was attached to a tackle, and sixteen men combined their strength to pull him down. He fooled them. With a blow of his trunk he released his fore leg, and by a tremendous effort broke the chains. The men scattered in all directions pur sued by the animal. One of them saved his life, by bounding over a fence, and the elephant, for satisfaction, threw down a span of it. At 11 o’clock they had managed to throw him, and-with clubs and spikes were ondevoring to subdue him. Some fifty shots were fired and took effect in his trunk and other portions of his body, but they were only flea bites, and were but skin deep. —Scranton Herald, June 9. The Local editor of a Lynchburg paper, while in the act of taking his va lise from the baggage car at a station, let it fall on the track and the whole train passed over it, smashing it up horribly and scatterring shirts, paper collars and the like in every direction. As soon as the train passed, a crowd gathered around the wreck, and expressed their sympathy for the owner of it. But just then he thrust his hand into one end of the crush ed valise, and drawing forth an unbrok en bottle of whiskey, neld it np triumph antly and exclaimed: ‘‘Never mind, gentlemen, I have saved the most impor tant part of my baggage! ” A man got tipsy and indulged in a night’s sleep in a country grave yard. On opening his eyes in the morning he noticed the inscription on a grave stone —“ He is not dead, but sleepeth.”— “ When I am dead,” he remarked with great deliberation. “I’ll own up, and have no such statement as that above my carcass.” A thirty-three feet black snake was recently killed near Carrollton, 111. UIJLIj ARP IS CALLED RKFORG THE RE CONSTRUCTION COMMITTEE. [suppressed testimony.] To the Editor of the Metropolitan Jiccord : Mu. Editok —Murder will out. and so will evidence. Having seen Ban Rico,s testimony before the Destruction Com mittee, I have felt sorterslighted because no mention aiut been made of mine. X suppose it has been suppressed, but I am not to bo hid out in security. Our coun try is the special jury, and by and by this business will go up before it on appeal.— The record must go up fair and complete, and therefore I’ll take occasion to make public what I swore to. I saidagood deal more than I can put down, Mr. Editor, and at times my language was considered .impudent, but they thought that was all the better for their side, for it illustrated the rebellious spirit—l heard one of ’em say: “ Let himgo on—the ruling passion is strong in death. He’s good State's evi dence.” When I was put on the stand old Bout well swore me most fiercely and solemnly to speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and I then obser ved that he was entertaining about a quart of double rectified, ana it looked like it had soured on his stomack. Old Blow was settin off on one side with a memorandum book, getting ready to note down some “garble extracts.” Old Iron Works was Chairman, and when he nodded his Republican head old' Boutwell, says he: 11 Your name Is Arp, I believe, sir?” “ So called,” says I. “You reside in the State of Georgia, do you?” b ’ “ I can’t exactly say,” says I. “I live in Romo, right in the fork of two Injun rivers.” “In the State of Georgia,” says he fiercely. In a state of uncertainty about that,” says I. We don't know whether Geor gia is a State or not. J would like for you to state yourself, if you know. The state of the country requires that this should be settled, and I will pro ceed to. state” I “Never mind, sir,” says he. “How old are you, Mr. Arp?” “ That depends on circumstances,” ,Sfiys T. 11 F dftn’t-knmv wliotUoi' to count the last five years or not. Duiln the war you folks said that a State couldn’t se cede, but that while she was in a state of rebellion she ceased to exist. Now you say we got out and we shan’t get back again until 1870. A man’s age has got something to do with his rights, and if we are not to vote, I don’t think we ought to count the time. That’s about as near as I can come to my age, sir.” “ Well, sir,” says he, “ are you familiar with the political sentiments of the citi-' zens of your State?” “ Got no citezens yet sir, that we know of. X will thank you to speak of us as “people.’” ” Well, sir,” says he, “ I’ll humor your obstinacy. Areth epcoplc ofyourState”— “ Don’t speak of it as a state, sir, if you please. I’m on oath now, and you must excuse mo for being particular.' Gall it a ‘section.’” “Mr. Arp, are the people of your section sufficiently humbled ■ and repentant to come back into the Union on such terms as we may think proper to impose? “Not much they ain’t,” says I. “I don’t think they are prepared for it yet. They wouldn’t voluntarily go it blind against your hand. They say the deal wasn’t fair and you’ve marked the cards and stole the trumps, but at the same time they don’t care a darn' what you do. They’ve become indifferent and don’t carenothin aboutyourGuy Fawkes business. I mean ho respect to you, gen tlemen, but I was swore to tell the whole truth. Our people ain't anoticin you on ly out of curiosity. They don’t expect anything decent, or honorable, or noble from you, and they’ve gone to work dig gin and plowin and plantin and raisin boy children.” Bight here the man with a memoran dum scratched down a garbled extract, and old Boutwell says he, “ What do you mean by that, sir? What Interference do you intend?” “I’mstatin facts,” says I, "you must draw your own inferences. They are raisin boy children. Any harm about that? Any treason? Can’t a man raise boy children? Pel'll apa you’d like to amend the Constitution and stop it. Old Pharoah tried to stop it among the Isra elites, but itdidn’tpay. lie finally caught the dropsy in the Red Sea. We are rais in boy children for the fun of it. They are a good thing to have in the house, as Mr. Toodles would say.” “Mr. Arp are not the feelings of your people very bitter towards the North?” “I beg yourpardon, sir, but you’ll have to split the question, or else I’ll have to split the answer. Our people have a very high regard , for honorable men, brave men, noble-hearted men, and there’s a heap of ’em North, sir, and there’s a heap of widows and orphans there we are sor ry for, but as for this ere Radical party, they look upon ’em like they was hyenau scratchin up the dead fora livin. It is as natural to hate ’em as it is to kill a snake. Its utterly impossible’ for me to tell the strength, and length and height, depth and breadth of their contempt for that party. They look upon !t Radical as—as —as —well as a begger on horsebrck—a buzzard sailin round a dead eagle—a stick egg dog creepin’ up to the tail of a dead lion. They talk about hirin’ Browniow to abuse ’em, to use language on ’em' like he did a few years ago when he spoke against Pryue. If they do hire Brown low he’ll spatter em about, and it will stick, for the pores are open and their morals spongy. I’d like to stand oft 1 about ten rods and hoar him spread him self. It would bo worse than a squirt-gun full of cow slop, and I have no doubt would give general satisfaction.” “That’s sufficient sir,” says old Bout well. “Ef it was in theirpower to do so, would your people renew the fight?" “ Not unless they could fight the Radi cals all alone, and all the world agree to “ hands off.” Even then there wouldn’t be no fight, lor wo couldn’t catch you.” “ What do your people say on the sub ject of negro equality?” “ They say its a lie, sir—it don’t exist by nature and never can by practice. — Folks were not created free and equal.— That may he a theorotorical truth, but it's always been a practical He. There’s men I give the sidewalk to, and there’s men that gives it to me. There’s men I vote, and men that vote me, and the grades go up, up, up, step by step, from my sort to Mr. Davis and Mr. Stephens and General Lee, and Howell Cobb, and Ben. Hill, and their sort, for they are the highest in the nation ; and then again it goes from me down, down to the niggers, and the Republicans and the Radicals, and that’s as low as they run. There ain’t no equality and you cau’t make one. We’ll vote tile niggers certain. I’ll vote Tip, and Tip’s a ‘ head centre.’ He’ll vote about forty, and the first thing you know we’ll elect seven big, black, greasy niggers to Congress. We’ll do it certain —seven of ’em 18 carats strong, with Af rican mask. The other rebel States will do the same thing, and you'll have about fifty of ’em to draw seats with, and you can all stlckyour legs upon desks togeth er, and swap lies and vermin, and be shampood at the same shop, and the fair sei?es can set together in the galleries and mix odors, and fan their scent about pro miscously. We’ll give you a full benefit of your Civil Eights hill, see if we don't.—. l You may go on—play your , cards. We ADVERTISING TERMS. _ADVEaT.SEMr.NT3 will be Inserted nt Ten Cent* per lino for the flrst Insertion, and five cent* Kf-’I.V'!. 0 /? r cn , ch subsequent Insertion. Quar- nn ? yearly advertisements in A liberal reduction on the above rate® should bo accompanied by tho Cash. tVben sent without any length of tlmo specified for publication, they will bo continued until ordered out and charged accordingly. .JOB PRINTING. Cards, Handbills, Ciuoulahs, and every other description of Job and Card Printing executed In the neatest stylo at low prices. - ,-NO. 2. are bidin’ our time We are payin’ your taxes and your duties and back rations for 1854, and licenses, and your infernal revenue, and obeyin’ your Jaws without havin' any Jaw in makin’ ’em [and we are cut off from pensions, and public lands; and you sold a poor man’s stall In my country tho other day because he couldn’t pay your tax on some peach brandy he stilled for his neighbors two years ago; and soon you’ll be sellin’ the land fqr the land tux, and you trying your best to play the devil generally; but you’ll catch it in the long run. See if you don’t. Talk abbut Fenians, When the good men of the North and the South all get together, they’ll work over the track so fast that you won’t have time to get out of the way. You'll subside Into security, and your children will deny that their daddies over belonged to such a party. Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’m a little excited. Five cents a pound on cotton will excite anybody that makes it. Tax on industry on sweat.and toll. Pro tection tariffs on Pennsylvania and five cents a pound tax on Southern cotton— half its average worth—and your folks will manage some way or other to steal the other half. My advice to you is to quit this foolishness and begin to travel the only road to peace.” ' " Old Blow couldn’t keep lip with his garbled extracts. “ What makes the President so popu lar at the South?” “Contrast, sir—contrast. The more he ain’t like your party, the more popular he is. He would treat us about right, I reckon, if you would let him alone, but you bedevil him so, that sometimes he don’t understand himself. I don’t think he knew for awhile whether his Peace Proclamation restored the habeas corpus or not. But do you go on and impeach him, and that will bring matters to a fo cus. I'll bet you’d be in Fort Delaware in a week, and the Southern members be ;here in their seats, and they’ll look round at the political wreck and ruin and plun der and stealage that’s been goin on, and .they might exclaim, in the language of ■the poet, “ Who's pin here since I'sh pin gone." “ Mr. Arp, suppose we should have a war with England or France* what would the rebels do ?” . •• They’d follow Gen. Lee, and Gen. Johnston, and Longstreet, and Bragg and old Bory. My opinion is that, Gen. Lee would head the Union army, and Gen. Grant' would be his chief of staff, and Gen. Buell would rank mighty nigh, and” “ What would you do with Gen. Sher man?” “ Sorry you mentioned him. ' We’d have to hire him, I reckon, as a camp fiddler, and make him sing “ Hall Co lombia” by fire light, as a warnin to the boys how mean it is to burn cities and towns and make war upon defenceless women and children. No, sir, our boys wouldn’t fight under no such.” At this time the man with the memo randum put down some more garbled ex tracts. “Do you think, Mr. Arp, that If the South should ever hold the balance of power, they would demand pay for their negroes?” “I can't say sir. But I don’t think the South has lost anything in that way. We got their labor before the war for their vittles and clothes and doctor’s bills, and we get it-now for about the same.— It’s all settled down that way, and your Bureau couldn’t help it. The only dif ference is in the distribution. Some of us don’t own as many as we used to, but everybody has got a nigger or two now, and they’ll ail vote em or turn em off. A nigger that wouldn’t vote ns I told him, shouldn’t black my boots.” At this time the Committee looked at one another, seeming to be bothered and astonished. Garbled extracts were put down with a vim. Mr Boutwell, says he, “ Mr. Chairman, I think sir, we are about through with the witness. I think, sir, his testimony settles the question as to what wo ought to do with Southern traitors.” The Chairman give me a Bepublioan nod and remarked, “ Yes, sir, I think we do. Thescoundrels burnt my iron works.” Whereupon I retired, having given general satisfaction Yours truly, As a steamboat was about to start from Cincinnati one day, a young man came on board, leading, a blushing damsel by the hand, and approaching the polite clerk, said in a suppressed voice: “ I say, me and my wife has just got married, and I am looking for accommo dations.” “ Looking for a berth ?” hastily inquir ed the clerisfas ho passed a ticket to an other passenger. “A birth I thunder and lightning, no!” gasped the astonished man; “we haiut but just got married—we' only want a place to stay all night, you know.” A Spanish gentleman, studying English, being at a tea-party, and being desired to be helped to some sliced tongue, in doubt as to the term, hesitated a mo ment, and then said : " I will tnankyou, miss, to pass mo that language!" The following advertisement appeared, in one of our Western papers: “Run Away—A hired man named John; his nose turned up five feet eight inches high, and had on a pairof corduroy pants much worn.” A gentleman at the opera, the other night, in sounding the praises of a new opera-glass which he had just purchased, said, “ Why, bless your soul, it brings the ladies on the opposite side of the house so near that I can smell the musk on their pocket-handkerchiefs, and hear the boating of their dear little hearts.” One of the “Bureau’s” officials, while traveling last week in the cars in Alaba ma, noticed a lady with a negro girl in attendance, and he remarked: “Madam, I see you have one of my children.” "■ Yes sir,” replied the lady, " I perceive the re semblance.” A slight tittering was ob served in that part of the car, and the “ Bureau” left. fi£S“ " Will you take the life ofGeneral Grant or Admiral Farragut, this morn ing,” asked a newsman of an elderly lady who had stopped to look over the publi cations on his stall. ‘ ‘ Law me no! ” she replied; ‘ ‘ they may live to the end of their days for all I care. I haln’t nuthln’ a’gin ’em.” If you want to have a man for your friend, never get the ill-will of his wife. Public, opinion is made up of the average prejudices of womankind. A rural editor, arriving in the city, came to the conclusion that there were two things that were made to be lost — sinners and umbrellas. A newly arrived Irishman, inquired : “ Is it thrue, Pat, that wan man’s as good as anuther in this counthry?” “ Yis, bejabers, and bether too.” What a poor world this would be with out women and newspapers—how would the news get about? If a man is’"steeped in poverty,” won’t it take all the strength out efhhnV 'W Bill Akp,
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