®t}c American I>iniUSHBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING , BY BRATTON 4c KENNEDY, OF< ICE—SOUTH MAItKKT NQtABK. XBBHS Two Dollars per year If paid strictly , n Advancev TWO Dollars and Fifty Cents If paid within three months 5 after which Throe Dollars *lll be charged. These terms will bo rigidly ad* uered to In every instance. No subscription,dis continued nntil all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. Ittdfcsstonal (tatfra. roHN.'O; GRAHAM, Attorney at • I Law. Ofllco formerly occupied by Judge rtraham, South Hanover street, Carlisle, Penna. Dcc.1,1805-ly. • •• • ' 1 • MC. HERMAN, Attorney at Law. Ofllco in Rhocm’s Hall Building,* In the rearoftbeCourtHouso,nextdoor to the “Hor qid’’Office. Carlisle, Penna. a Sec. 1, XB&5. , • ~ . r MW EAKLEY, Attorney at Law. .1 oflleo on South Hanover street. In the room formerly occupied by A. B. Sharpe. Esq. nHAS. E. MAGLAXJGHLIN, Attor \j nbv at Law. Ofllco in Building formerly occupied by Volunteer, a few doors South of Han* non’s Hotel. 1 / ■ Dec. 1,18U5. v aM. BELTZHOOVBR, Attorney A at Law and Real Estate Agent. Shopherds ,owp, West Virginia. Prompt attention given to nil business in Jeflbrson county and the Counties Adjoining it. . Peb. lMB6&Liy. TT7M. J. SHEARER, Attorney &o. YV at Law,Carlisle, Pa.. Office near Court House, South side of Public Square, in 11 Inhofi’a Corner." second floor. Entranoo.HanoverStreot. 4®* Practicing in all the Courts of this Judicial District, prompt attention will be given to all business in the Counties of Ferry as well as ofCumberland. May 24,18G0—ly*. TXT P. SADLER, Attorney at Law, YY • Carlisle, Penna. Office In Building for merly occupied by Volunteer, South Hanover jtreet. Dec. 1, 1805. - \TT KENNEDY Attorney at Law, YY • Carlisle, Poona, Office same as thatol the “American volunteer,” South side of the Pub lic Square. Deo. I. 1805. TOHN LEE, Attorney at-Law, il North Hanover Street. Carlisle. Fa.. Fob. 16,1800—ly. TAMES A. DUNBAR, ATTORNEY AT <1 Law, Carlisle, Penna. Office a few doors west of Hannon’s Hotel. Deo. 1,1805. EE. BELTZHOOVER, Attorney # and Counselor at Law, Carlisle,’Penna. :o on South Hanover street opposite Bontz’s Store. By special arrangement with the Patent Office, attends to scouring Patent Eights, Dec. 1,1805. WM. B. BUTLER, Attorney at Law» Carlisle, Penna. Office with Wm. J. sticaror, Esq. A ' Dec. 1,1805— ly. S NEWTON SHORT, M. D., Physi , clan and Surgeon, Mochanlcsburg, Pa.— ikful lor post favors, would most respectful ly inform his friends and the public generally, mt ho Is still practicing Medicine ana Surgery In all their branches. Special attention given to (bo treatment of diseases of the Eye and Ear, and nil other chronic affections. Office in Wilson’s Building, Main St., up stairs. Nov. 20, 1860. TYR. GEORGE B. SEARIGHT, Den- J tist. From the Baltimore College of JDeniaj forgery. Office at the residence of his mother, East Louthor Street, three doom below Bedford, Carlisle, Penna. Doc. 1,1805. BENTISTRY— Dr. W. B. Shoemaker— Practical Dentist. Nowvillo, Pennsylvania. iq la Miller’s Building. Feb, 22,1800.—ly. - IJibotoßcapljins. HOT O. GRAPHS The subscriber, after over flvo years of experi ence In his profession, begs to Inform the public hat he still continues his business at his old and reil known location. In the building of Jacob jug, Esq.*, South-East Corner of Market Square, over :ie Store of Messrs. Loldich & Miller, where he rlll.be pleased to see his friends and patrons, ild whore ho is fully prepared to take ' 'KOTOGRAPH& CARTES DE VISITE j ‘ AND AMUROTYPES, rom miniature to llfo-llko size, and to guarantee crfcct satisfaction In every case. The arrange ment of my Sky-Light enables mo to lake perleot 3c similes In cloudy’ os well ns in clear weather.— In experienced Lady Operator is la constant nt fendance at tno rooms to wait on lady customers, instantly on hand and for sale at reasonable Ucs, a fine assortment of lOSEWOOD, UNION AND GILT FRAMES. lAS- Negatives of all Pictures taken are preserv- Jand persons wishing duplicates of the same an have them on short notice, either by porson -1 application .or by letter. Thankful forpast lo om, will hbpe for a continuance of the public patronage. JOHN C. LESHER. Oct. 11,1800— . IOSITIVELY THE BEST ! 0. L. LOCH MAN AGAIN TRIUMPH ANT ! ! ,• Tie FIRST PREMIUM hag again hem Awarded to C. L. LOCHMANJor the JIEST PHOTOGRAPHS. His long experience In the business and His utlmate Knowledge of all that relates to the pro motion of a PERFECT PICTURE, In chemistry, irt and mechanism, enables /him to make Pho ographs, unapproachable In most galleries, ana m work guaranteed to give satisfaction.' FINE LARGE PHOTOGRAPHS,’ Colored and Plain, CARD PICTURES FOR ALBUMS, . eld and new size, . PICTURES i- of exquisite finish. . , Every lady should have one of these. taken; jhoy give the most charming complexion. . . AMBROTYPES in every style of cases, and all kinds of work iono In a First Glass Gallery.. Copies made In the most perfect manner. .. .. Negatives are registered, and duplicates can he l invited to pay a visit to the gaUory and examine Bpeclmens. A largo lot of FRAMES and ALBUMS for sale Photographs made in all kinds of weather equally well. Deo. 13. 1806 _ Mrs. r. a. smith’s photo granule Gallery South-east Corner Hano ver atreetmnd Market Square, where may be had all the different styles orPhotographs, from card id life size, .. ... IVOBYTYPES. AMBRQTYPES, AND meilainotypes s also Pictures on Porcelain, (something new) both Plain and Colored, and which are Auctions of the Photographic art. Call and see Particular attention given to copying from D^e 6 lnvi^ea e ttLo patronage of the public. • Feb. 15.1886. • . dor dritimmi Orsale ■GREAT EDUCATIONAL INDUCEMENTS. -1 First (Xcus .Business College at Carlisle, Penn'a. THIS Institution Is now entering upon its third year in Its present location; during wmcU time received a Port; and also an encouragingahoroof PtttjemW from Htv riitfflrant states of uio Union, Wo feel encouraged from tho result of J’S t h n < uto . shall spare nf pains or expense in building np an institution second to none in the oonntry. _ Education adapted to all—the Farmer, the Me the Business or Professional m YOUNG*MEN of.Umited education. . YOUNG MEN well educated in other rospecta, but deficient in the branches taught- in a first class Business YOUNG MEN of iUtSkd means, who would possess the best requisite to em ■ fnence and distinction. . r YOUNG MEN who ore desirous ofrecelvingthe . greatest amount of. useful infor mation at the least comparative * expense ore invited to investi gate the peculiar merits of our Model Practical training and eminently popular course Study* bbanohes TAUGHT. Single and Double Entey Book-keeping, India Various forms and applications, tooludJng Gen Orammar. Composition, Telegraphing, wo. students enter at any time. 49r None but competent 1 nstruotora employed, and a sufficlent number to Insure individual in- Address, - ’ Corliale, Pa. j Aug. 23,1808. • • • : -- I?MPIRE SHUTTLE SEWING HA* JjiOHINES are superior to oil other for PAMl ulandmanufauturinq PURPOSES. Con tain ad the latest improvements; are speedy; noteless; durable; and easy to work. I Juste rated Circulars free. Agents wanted. Liberal dlscountr allowed. No consignments ddresa. EMPIRE B. M. 00 M Broadway,CXB N. Y JulyW,W»-ly ' loluntccr. by Bratton & Kennedy, ESTATE FOR SALE!!" W . J. SHEARER, AND AGENT FOR THE SALE OF Cumberland Co. Real Estate,, OFFERS THE FOLLOWING VALUABLE REAL ESTATE FOR SALE AT REASONABLE PRICES IN THE BOROUGH OF CARLISLE, , No. L.A large and commodious BRICK DWEL LING HOUSE, in North College Street, with Goa, Water, Water Closet and other modem Improve ments, together with about 1 ACRE of GROUND attached—ono of the finest sites for a Cottogo res idence in the Borough. The parlor windows oi this dwelling command a pleasant view of Dick inson College grounds. ’No. 2. The delightful Suburban residence oi Mr. Benedict Law, In South Hanover Street, with Its ample veranda, fine Fruit, Garden and exten sive grounds, embracing an Aero of town Lots. JNo. 8. A Now and Well Built TWO-STORY BRICK HOUSE, with Two-story Bock Building, containing in all Sevbn Pleasant Rooms, together With NEW FRAME STABLE, CARR IA Q E HOUSE and other out-bulldiogs; situate on East side South Hanover Street. This Lot, on which thoro is some very Choice Fruit, contains 42 feet in front by 220 feet In depth. rNo. 4. SIX of the finest BUILDING LOTS In the Borough, on South Hanover Street. No. 5. The six most blevated BUILDING LOTS In tho Borough, situated at the head oi South Bt. IN tUe country. 'No. 0. AOO ACRE FARM In North Middleton township, \V. miles from Carlisle. This farm has but a TENANT HOUSE and STABLE, but It af fords the finest alto for a Mansion House and Bank Barn that wo know in Cumberland co. ’No.7. A TRACT OP THIRTY-SIX ACRES, with small but comfortable BRICK DWELLING HOUSE, Frame Stable. &o„ and a young and thriving Orchard oi CHOICE FRUIT, situate on the Railroad?la North Middleton twp., West, and within a mile of. the Borough of Carlisle. This property as a HOMESTEAD and for general or Truck farming. Is the most desirable tract of its size to be found anywhere In the vicinity of Carlisle. The certain extension of the town West ward, partly consequent upon the improve ments made and contemplated by the Railroad Company In that direction, drawing, as they necessarily will, nearly the whole trade of the town to that end, will very greatly enhance the value of this land to the future’ owner, for any purpose whatever, rendering It a safe and profit able investment. . Feb. 28,1800. jFurulture, &c srsirTiTg7~" CABINET MAKER WEST MAIN STREET, A Spunfdld Assortment or * NEW FURNITURE for the Holidays, comprising •* SoAis, Camp Stools, •Lounges, Centro Tables, . Rocking Chairs, Dining Tables, Easy Chairs, . Card Tables, Reception Chairs, Ottomons, Bureaus, • What-Nots, Secretaries, • &o, t &c., ? Parlor, Chamber, Dining Room, Kitchen FURNITURE, of the Latest Styles. COTTAGE FURNITURE IN RRTTS, Splendid Now Patterns. ! BEDSTEADS AND MATTRESSES, GILT FRAMES AND PICTURES, in great variety. Particular attention given to Funerals. Orders from town A»d country attention* to promptly and on reasonable terms. Dec. 43,1808—tf . QABINET WARE HOUSE Tiie subscriber respectfully Informs his friends and the public generally, that he still continues the Undertaking business, and is ready to wait upon customers either by day or by night. Ready modo • Coffins kept constantly on hand, both Slain and ornamental. He has constantly on and Fisk's Patent Mctallo Burial Case, of which he has been appointed the solo agent. This case is recommended as superior to any of the kind now In use. it being perfectly air tight. _ . He has also furnished himself with a new Rose wood TTwAnaw and gentle horses, with twhloh he will attend funerals in town and country, per sonally. without extra charge, i Among the greatest discoveries of the ago is Well's Spring Matirass, the best and cheapest bed now in use, the exclusive right of which I have secured, and will'bo kept constantly on hand, CABINET MAKING, in all its various branches, carried on, and Beau reaus, Secretaries, Work-stands. Parlor Ware, Upholstered Chairs, Sofas, Pier, Side and Centre Tables, Dining and Breakfast Tables, Wash stands of all kinds, French Bedsteads, high and low posts: Jenny Lind and Cottage Bedsteads, Chans of all kinds, Looking Glasses, and all other articles usually manufactured in this line of business, kept constantly on hand. His workmen are men of experience, his ma terial the best, and his work made in the latest city style, and all under his own supervision. It will be warranted and sold low iof cosh. ' He Invites all to give him a call before purohas 'ing elsewhere. For the liberal patronage, hero toflre extended, to him he feels indebted to his numerous customers, and assures them that no efforts will be spared in future to please them In style and price. Give us a call. Remember the place, North Hanover street, nearly opposite the Deposit Bank^Cfuhsle.^p^ Deo. 1,1865. pA B IN E T MAKING! Tfhe undersigned respectfully Informs his old friends and patrons that he has resumed the business of 0A B I NET MAKING, in all its various branches, at his old stand. Nos. 55 and 57 South Hanover Street, two doors below the Second Presbyterian Church, where he Is prepared to manufacture , BUREAUS, SIDE BOARDS. SECRETARIES, BREAKFAST TABLES, DINING TABLES,; CHAIRS, HAT-RACKS, WHAT-NOTS, 1 . CENTRE TABLES. SALOON TABLES, . TEAPOY TABLES. WASH STANDS, BEDSTEADS, BOOK CASES, WARDROBES, o not forgot to call, as many of my sold at COST, and treat bargains may be expected. A. W. BENTZ, No. 27 SbulA BatX^er Feb. 21,18(17. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1867. gdW.Xato. COUSIN JANE. When my little cousin Jano Lumloy camo to me one mofning, and said in her blushing way, “ cousin william,tylr For bes has proposed to me, and I have accept ed lym,” I felt that I must be a very old cousin indeed, a very safe cousin as girls would say, orshe never would have chosen me for a confidant. I was pleased, and I was sorry, to Ijcar the tidings. I was pleased, because it was a very good offer; and I was sorry, be cause Mr. Forbes would take Jane away— selfish animal I—and though I had never cared to marry her 1 myself, I thought it a hard case to see her marry another. How ever, as pleasure had come first, so it was the predominant feeling, ana I shook bands with Jane, and congratulated her on her good fortune. Mr. Forbes, though a widower, was not thirty ; be was good looking and accomplished ; he was well off too, and had a charming home within aconvenientdistance of Loudon; in short, he was a most eligible husband for Jane, who had not a farthing of her own, and who owed the very clothes she wore to my father’s kindness. Not that he thought it much kindness, dear old boy.. Jane was his pet, and I feel pretty sure thathe con sidered Mr. Forbes a very fortunate man in having secured her. Of course, I thought so too, for I knew Jane’s value, i Still, Mr. Forbes’ offer nuzzled me. ■ Jane had come with her little story to. me in the garden ; we were alone in one of the green arbors. She stood in the shade bare-headed, modest, with a happy blush on her cheek, and a softdewy light in her brown eyes. I had never seen her look half so well in her whole life as she look ed then, and—shall I say it?—Jane did not look at all pretty! No not at all. No one, indeed, could call Jane ugly or even plain ; but there was an absence of beauty in her face, which was. the more remarka ble that pretty girls abounded in ourcoun ty. She had a nice figure, a graceful .car riage, a pleasant voice, ana a happy*look; that she had, and no more. She was also a sensible girl, clever, well bred and ami able, though dreadfully shy with stran gers ; but how could Mr. Forbes know anything of Jane save her shyness ? He had not seen her more than a dozen times in all, and Jane was so quiet, that he must be a very penetrating and far-seeing man indeed if he had discovered her merits during those brief interviews. I ventured on expressing some surprise. “ How sly you both have been, Jenny.” I said. “No, William, not at all sly, I assure you,” she replied, gravely. I had ho idea Mr. Forbes thought of such a thing till ho mentioned it the other day “ Then you did not say Jenny?” “ How could I ? I was so confused that I should i\ot even have asked for time to think over it, if he had not made the sug gestion.” It was very plain that Jane was not in love ; but then how odd if she were I I had seen together the day before this, and Mr. Forbes, for a young man, was a cool lover, to say the least of it. Despite her inexperience in such matters, Jane felt sopae surprise too, and she expressed it with a mixture of sauciness and simplici ty which she often displayed with me, but which she certainly never showed to Mr. Forbes. “Do you know, cousin William," she said, looking up at me, “I must be tv very fascinating person after all; I am not pretty, I am twenty-three, I am not rich, X am quiet, and yet Mr. Forbes, who has only to pick and choose, is smitten with mfi . n “ How do you know he is smitten ?” I inquired. (Jin. question iit .ulieu ; lui!. luckily, Jane only laughed. “ Why should he want to marry me if he were not smitten ?" she asked gravely, “Ah! to he sure. And you areamitten, of course, Jenny?” ' “ No,” was her rather serious reply. “I admire Mr. Forbes, and I am grateful for his affections: but though I hope tcf be very happy witli him, I am not what is called in love, cousin William. That is not hay way, I suppose.” ■ And Jenny just uttered a little tremu lous sigh of regret, and looked like au an cient maiden who bids adieu to love and its follies; but who, though conscious of her wisdom, feels rather mournful to bo so very wise. These little fanciful ways and conceits, which tempered her good sense, and made it endurable, —for mere good sense, apt to he dreadfully oppressive;— wore Jane’s real fascination, iu my opin ion. I could understand that a man should be allured by them ; but they were never displayed unless in intimacy, and Mr. Forbes could know nothing about them. Still, he must be smitten, as Jane sdid; for why else should he wish to mar ry her ? ■ If hurry bo a proof of lovo, Mr. Forbes was very much in love. He wanted to marry Jane off-handed; and when my aunt Mary: who kept house for us, remon strated a little Indignantly, Mr. Forbes showed some temper. He submitted, however, and the courtship went on. I could’ not help seeing a good deal of it, and I did not like whatl saw. Jane silly child, seemed quite happy with such at tentions as Mr. Forbes paid to her; but if she was satisfied, I was not. Mr. Forbes went thrdugh love-making most consci entiously: butlromembered my flirtation with Grace Anley seven years before, and I thought it was something very different from this. I never cauglit Mr. Forbes giving Jane any of those looks w hieli had made me so dreadfully ridiculous in those days : X never saw him raised to bliss or sunk to’ despair by anything my little cousin said or did; and what was very, significant, I never once saw him try to be alone-with her. I drew the pitiless conclusion that Mr. Forbes, though one of thfe cleverest men I know, had nothing to say to Jane. > I was alone with her on the eveningbe fore the wedding-day. We sat in the pal lor, by one of the open windows, and we looked out at the garden. I could not help thinking that this garden won Id seem very dull and lonely when my little cousin Jenny was gone. No more should I heather gayly carolling in the morning, as she ran down the alleys, light and blithe os a bird on the wing. No more would I see her reading In one of those arbors as intent ns a young Muse. No more would the waving of her muslin dress or the. pattering of her little leet on the gravel give me pleasant thoughts of youth and girlhood. She was going off to Paris with that cold Mr. Forbes, and af ter their honeymoon trip he would take I her to his house and keep her there for -1 ever. These were dismal thoughts; so I with a groan, I said • j “ You are going away to-morrow J ane “Yes ” she answered, in a low voice. “ Do you know, I can scarcely believe it, cousin William.” , “ Nonsense,” I said, a little crossly.— *4 You like it. I have no doubt you are desperately in love with Mf. Forbes, by this time.” , ' , ... “No, I am not,” she replied, with one of her little solemn ways: “it is very odd, but I am not in lovo with Mr. Forbes, in spite of all his devotions to mo." Mr Forbes’ settlement had been liber al indeed, but other devotion X had not s6 f. D lt i s ver y wrong,” continued poor Jen ny in a tone of keen remorse; “ but it is no fault of mine, you know. Neverther less, I spoke to Mr. Forbes about it the other day.” “Did you; though?" I exclaimed, rath er startled at this unnecessary piece of ca u yea •■as ho said it did not matter, that we should be very happy together, and that I would be, he knew, a good mother to his little boy.” Jane’s slmpiloity and Mr. Forbes’ cool ness both confounded mo. It was plain he was no more in love with Jane than , Jane was with him. Only why on earth did he want to marry her ? How did he know that she would make a good moth er to hla little boy? Jane hod no Bert .of experience concerning children, and not even very fend of them. She liked them, to bo sure, but X had never seen her go baby mad, like. Grace Anly. Mischiev ous little flirt, she knew it became her, X suppose. Well, well I I have had my re venge. I saw Grace the other day,—she is now Mrs. Grant,—and Grace, my nymph, my sylph, has grown stout. I don’t exactly know what reply leave little Jane; I dare say some truism about the non-necessity of ardent love on her part; for she said, in her serious way; “ Bo I think, cousin William ; besides, you know, feeling that deficiency, I must, of course, make It up by, being ever so much better than I might have been,if I bad returned all Mr. Forbes’ feelings.” , But she sighed; perhaps the prospectof being very good.seemed a little austere to ray young.co.usin. Aunt Mary came in apd put an end to the conversation. I went out to smoke a cigar, and did not see Jane till the next morning. A pleasant blushing bride my cousin looked, almost pretty, and quite happy.— Mr. Forbes was as usual, very handsome; a little pale, perhaps, but I am bound to say that ho went through tho.trying mar riage ceremony with manly fortitude.— When it was over, ho seemed to have cast a weight of care away, and accepted Cur congratulations and good wishes with something like a happy smile. The wed- Jding breakfast was late, and X did not see much of him before we all sat down: but, when we did so, I thought Mr. Forbes looked a very excitable bridegroom, and that oven quiet little Jane had very fitful spirits for a bride. I drew no conclusions until Jane entered the library, where I stood, alone, to bid me good-bye. We had "Spent many pleasant hours in that library, and I did not wonder that Jane showed some emotion on finding mo there. But when she came up to me, and instead of taking my hand, throw her arms around my neck and laid her cold cheek to mine, and burst into sobs and tears, I felt a won der verging ou alarm. “ Jane, my dear girl, my darliug, what ails you ?” 1 said anxiously. “ I am going away,” she sobbed ; ' cousin William, I am going away !” She w'ouldsay no more. She was going away, but surely she had known that all along; and surely it was not to go and leave us that could put her in such a state of despair as this. I coulff get no expla nation from her. There was no time. — The carriage was waiting; they were looking for her.. “ I am coming, I am coming,” shecried, darting from me, and speaking in u light hearted voice. I followed her out. Mr. Forbes handed her into the carriage, step ped in after her, and my little cousin Jane, now Mrs. Forbes, was gone forever from amongst us. June had not been long married when my fivhor died. Aunt Mary was order ed* to the south of France, and I remain ed alone with the houskeeper. These were dreary days. I wished I had pro posed to Jane, and married her; I fancied wo should have made a happier couple than Mr. and Mrs. Forbes. She wrote now and then ; she never complained, but she never once said, “I am happy. 4 ’ She praised Mr. Forbes and his house, and spoke of her position and her comforts,— of herself, never. The theme that most frequently recurred in her .fetters was Authur. Mr. Forbes' little boy. She re corded his sayings and doings with evi dent fondness, and-1 began to think that that a young bride whose mind was so engrossed by her husband’s child could not be a very happy one. I had received a general invitation to Mr. Forbes’ house, and though Jane did not once remind me of it, I resolved to visit the Elms. It, would be a change; besides, I wanted to see why Jane was not happy. I am 1 bound to eay that, though my visit was unexpected, Mr. Forbes received me very ‘ yes’ at once eoml Ift 1 .. L — ~ .. . “Jane will bo delighted to seoyou, 7 ’T3e said ; “ she is out with my little boy.” Jane came in presently with a sickly, peevish- loboking little fellow,—the won derful Authur, about whom she had had so much to write. She colored on see ing me, blit delight in her face I saw not. If I could have believed it of Jane, I should have thought she was sorry I had come. She stammered a welcome, how ever, but as I soon preceived, shunned every opportunity of remaining alone wi th me. Once I caught her on the staircase. “ Well, Jane, are you happy ?" 1 whis- pered. “ 0, quite happy” she replied, airly.— “ Is not the Elms a charming place ?” and she made her escape. *Ves, the Elms was a charming place: a brown old house, spacious and conven ient, with a gay flower garden around it, and beyond this a region of ancient elm trees scattered on agiussy slope. Truly the mistress of this pleasant abode and well-ordered household, the wife of that handsome, agreeable gentleman, ought to have been a happy woman ; but she was. not. I saw it at once. Jane had grown thin and pale, and looked sad and care -worn. Nor did Mr. Forbes look a happy man. I did not like the rigid lines which a few months had made in his handsome face. He was very kind to his wife, and strictly polite ; but of fondness, of love, of tendreness, I saw no sign. He kept these for his child, who wg? certainly one of the most ill-tempered little three-year old wretches I had ever seen. Yet Jane seemed tp rival her husband in doting af fection for that little monkey, who began our aoquaintenco by making faces at me, and followed it up by biting my leg be fore dinner. “He was a great sufferer,” apologetically said his father. I thought I was the sufferer in this par ticular instance, but I boro the pain—l have the mark to this day—with thathero ism which politeness alone Inspire. I did not intend paying Mr. Forbies and his, wife a long visit; but our intentions have little power over the course of events.— That same evening I took a walk with Mr. Forbes, stumbled over the root of a tree, andspralned my ankle. Itwas very provoking. My sprain was one of the worst; the doctor who was called in or dered rest—total rest, ho said. In short I was condemned to spend many days some weeks, perhaps, at the Elms. Mr. Forbes be'haved unexceptlohally; he was kind, he was hospitable ; and my little Jane, on seeingme in severe pain, became once more my dear little Jane of old times!" She was a good deal with mo, I mean alone with me. Her husband had busi ness in London, and went there daily; and whilst I lay stretched on a sofa in the parlor, Jane sat and worked and watched Arthur and his maid in the garden. “ Jane,” I said to her one day, after bid ing my time, “ why are you not happy?” Jane became crimson, and I saw her little fingers tremble ns she vainly tried to thread her needle. '■ , “ x—l am very happy,” she stammered. “ No, Jane, you are not, neither is Mr. Forbes. I do not want to meddle be tween you: but yet, Jane, if a vvord of sound sensible advise from cousin Wil liam would to help set matters right, wbv not give yourself the chance, and him the pleasure, of that word?” Her color came and went; her work dropped on her lap; she-clasped her hands and if you could—if you could tell me something—advise me, X mean., O, cou sin William, if you could make my hsu band like mol" .„ T ~ ~ “ I always suspetoed this,” I replied, ruefully ; " but, child, I must know why he married you. Do you know? “ O, yes,” she answered in a very pe culiar tone; “and that is just the mis chief. If I had known nothing, all might have been well.” i* , - This was very mysterious. It took me some time and trouble to make Jenny more explicit; at length, she told me all. “ When wo were really married,” she began, " and I came home his wife, and looked at him and felt proud of him, I was happy. O, so happy I Perhaps you remember that, even before changing my dress ,1 went down to the garde*. 1 had a foolish fancy to gather some of jny fa vorite flowers and take them wltlv.me —. X thought to be alone there; but some one had given Mr. Forbes a letter on our com ing in, and he had gone to the garden to read It. I saw hlmTn the summer-house, sitting Ilf your cbnir, bis bead flung on the table, bis arms clasped above it; and I beard him groaning us if bo wero in greatagony. I turned cold and trembled. I know it was no physical pang that wrung those moans from him. Tho let ter lie bad been reading was on the ground by him. I picked it up and stood with it in my bana, looking at him. Ho bad not beard, and did not heed me. I looked just at the first words* and when I bad read them, I could no leave off till I bad finished the whole letter. God help me) It was a love-letter, written to my bus band by one who bad been compelled to betray him; but who, at the eleventu hour, repented her error and asked to be. forgiven I She wrote full of bopeuud fond ness. She bad suffered so much that bo could not, she said, be long angry with his own Annie! Yes, oho called herself bis own. 1 wss bis wife; I bad not been an hour married; I still wore my white dreess, my veil, and my orange-wreath, and another woman wrote thus to my husband I He now roused himself and saw mo. I still held the lotter'in my band, and my face, no doubt, told him that I had read it; for he took it from me and walked away,—both without a word. I wondered how he felt. Was he sorry tho letter had not come sooner ? Would be have given me up even at the foot of the altar? I know netter now, —I know Mr. Forbes could not. be dishonorable; 'but then my mind was not my owp. One thing, however, was clear. Ho did not love me. He had wished jo marry me in order to punish the ingrate,and to liurry our marriage id order to forestall bers and show her how little he felt her faithless ness. He had taken me, poor, plain, and unattractive,thatlmightowe him much, and he, the rich, handsome gentleman, owe me very little. That was it, and cousin William it was very bitter. “ You know why that we are not, and cannot be, happy. It is because I read, that letter, I am like Psyche, and,like her, I pay for my error. If I bad remain ed ignorant, I should have been content. ‘ Mr. Forbes would have acted his part to tho end, and to the end I should have thought that I had fascinated him. But my poor little pride has had a fall, and little cousin Jane has been sorely hum bled. She knows what you knew all afbng, that she was never loved, but mere ly made the Instrument of an angry lov er's revenge. Still, 1 muAtbejustto him. I am sure he'meantto make me very hap py —to be generous, kind, and attentive, and perhaps, in the end, he would have liked me. Only, youso* - , now he cannot. I know too much. As he is in your pres ence, so he is In private—a perfect gen tleman. I, who meant to be so good, so devoted, so dutiful even, never find a word to say to my husband. I answer when be speaks, and that is gll. lam cold as a statue when he is by. I fefel it, I know it, and I cannotbelp it; that An nie is ever between us, and she me. I have never seen her: I do not know who she is, what she is like; but sometimes I lie awake at night and think, ‘‘lf be were to find me dead to-morrow, would ho be very sorry? he could marry bis Annie.' " “oh, > i Poor little Jane! My heart ached for her, and it ached all the more that I fan cied she was fond of her husband. “ Jen ny, Jenny." said I, with a sigh, “ I will toll you why you can do nothing to win Mr. Forbes; it is because you like him." She hid her face in her hands, and I saw her forehead, her neck even, turn crimson. “Yes, that is it,’ 1 she said at length, looking up and turning pale again. “I like him—l who reproached myself for not caring about him when he married, I *who meant to try so hard to get that lik ing. I like him. He does not see it, he never will see it; but if he should I shall be the most wretched of women. It is the thought of myjndifl'erence that rec ■onumw-tifin to Ilia lot; lf~he Knew TUG truth, he would find it unendurable.” “How do you know that?” I asked, much startled. “I cannot teU you, but I know it. I nearly betrayed myself once, and I can not forget his look of uneasiness and alarm.” “ Jane, you Blander your husband.” “No,” she replied, quietly, “and ypu must not misunderstand me and wrong him. Xam quiet, you know; well, I be lieve that Mr. Forbes took me partly for that. ‘Here is a girl who will expect no devotion, no fondness, no nonsense,’ he thought; ‘ nothing, at least, that I can not give her. Suppose he finds out that I am not the woman he thought me, and that when I married I did expect to love and to be loved, will it not be misery to him to try and fulfill his part of the com pact?” Alas! that-was true, and because it was true I heaved a deep sigh. At that mo ment the parlor door.opened, and Arthur came in. At once ho crept up to his young step-mother. She took him on her knee, and twining his arms around her neck, he nestled ,on her Bosom, and thence looked at me with a pale, pitiful face that made me forgive hinMill his sins. , "Jane,” I said, and I am not ashamed to add that my eyes were dim, “ there is your hope and your link with the father.” Jaue shook her head rather sadly. “No link,” she replied, “but if possi ble, a cause of further division. When I came and found this poor sickly thing, my heart yearned towards it, perhaps be cause it suflered like myself; perhaps,” she added, with a faint blush, “because it was his. I called it, and it came. I caressed it, and it fell asleep in my arms. When It was sick, I attended it; when it was peevish and fretful through pain, I bore with it; and thus, I suppose, it loved me. But, you see, it loves me too much. One who ought to bo first is second now, and second far away. lam obeyed hen another is not heeded; lam sought when another is left; I am not his Annie that the preference should not be resented; not against me, indeed, not against tilts child, but resented as a wrong. For if there bo a being passionately loved, it is this little, pale creature. His mother died when he was born, and his father al most became a woman for his sake. He nursed him, he attended him, and X reap the sweet fruit of love, I who had not the care of the tree. But I cans ot help it.— This is my comfort in sadness; this little warm, living creature clinging to mo, and I cannot give It up. When I talk to it, and play with it, wnen I dress it, as I like to do daily, I feel almost happy. Ar thur is not always cross ns you have seen him', cousin William; Arthur does not always bite, for Arthur is not always in pain, poor little fellow. Ho has days when he la bright, and merry, and frohc somb, without mischief, just like a young kid. Eh, Arthur?" Arthur looked upj she stooped and their Ups met in a long, fond kiss. They were thus when Mr. horbea entered the room. I saw his color change as he per ceived the child in his wife’s arms, but he soon recovered his composure, came up to us cheerfully, and, bending over Jane’s shoulder, asked Arthur to kiss pa pa. Arthur frowned and-, gave papa a sulky push'. Mr. Forbes tried to smile as he walked away, but the smile was forced, though a blush which followed it was real.- We are none of us perfect and I am bound to say that as Arthur pushed his father away, a saucy little look of tri umph passed through Jane’s brqwn eyes, a look that to me, at least, said very plain ly “I am not Annie; blit some one can love me, Mr. Forbes.” It was this look which, whether he understood It or not, made Mr. Forbes color like a girl! l Nothing Is easier than to solicit confi dence under pretense of giving advice; nothing more troublesome, to a conscien tious person, than to give the proffered counsel when the confidence has been made. So, at least, I now»-felt, and I dreaded being alone with Jane again; but I found, to my great comfort, though not without some mollification, that Jane had sppken to get relief, not to be advised. \t least, she never asked me to suggest, what line of conduct she .should pursue towards her husband, and I believe she oven forgot that any thing ot the kind had been mentioned between us. I pitied her from my heart, but I saw no remedy to her Borrow. X pitied- Mr. Forbes, too.— YOL. 53.—N0. 37. You see it is one thing to marry a woman with the intention of giving and receiv ing affectionate regard, and It is another thing to marry a girl who takes the liber ty of falling in love with you, and who feels aggrieved if you do not, or rather cannot, follow her example. What should I have instance, if, marrying Jane for the sake of being comfortable with her, I had suddenly discovered that my saucy little cousin was 'enamored of poor me? It has occurred to me since then, that Jane would not so have com mitted herself with mo, but at the time, I did not think of that. 1 rejoiced that! bad not proposed to her, and X pitied her husband; for if Jane’s misfoi tune was to have read the letter, his trouble was to her heart rather too truly. Poor little simple Jane! it was like her to think that she could keep such a secret from a husband who had not love to bind him. 1 watched him without seeming to do so, and I felt sure that Mr. Forbes’ grief was to see bis wife’s love and not be able to return it; his grief was to have mar ried! m he thought, a sensible mercenary girl, and to find out that he was wedded to a fond and tender-hearted woman. I do not mean to say ho resented that love, or that it bored him; but he could not re turn it. I was beginning t 6 walk about with the help of a stick, when I saw Mr. For bes go offin his chaise one morning with Arthur. “ Please to tell Jan© that I am taking the child”—he said to me. On hearing this, Arthur, who had sat quietly till then, uttered a scream of dis may, and called on his '‘mamma." I saw Mr. Forbes bite his lip, but he drove away all the faster, and both father and child were out of sightin afew momenta. Jane had heard the.cry, and now came down rather scared. On hearing the ex planation I gave her, she turned very pale. O, she cried, piteously; “my maid has Just told me the small-pox Is there. Oh, if one could only overtake him 1” That was out of the question, so I did my .best to comfort Jane; but the tears stood eyes as she still kept sigh* ing; “Oh why did he take him?” Why, indeed? The child came home brigh and well, and his father seemed quite triumphant at having kept him half a day away from his step-mother. 4 ‘ And he was not at all unhappy, Juno,” he said, with marked emphasis. All day the child contined well and merry, but nest morning he fell sick, and by the time his father came home at night he wds ill; he hnd-the small pox. 'lt was I who told Mr. Forbes. He turn ed dreadfully pale; ho had learned in the course of the day that'the epidemic was at Harting. It was there, and he had ta ken his child to it; he had taken him to illness, perhaps to death, just'to bravo and tease his poor young wifol I knew all .this passed in his mind, for the first words he uttered were: “ God forgive me!” His next remark was the question “ Has Jane ever had it?” • “ Never,” I replied,' gravely. “Theuyjhe must not stay with him,” he said, quickly; “ she must not.” He went up; I followed him to the nur sery. Jane was there bending over the little cot, with Arthur’s hand in hers.— Mr. Forbes went up to her; ho was much agitated. He could scarcely apeak. “ Jane,” ho said without looking at the child, “ you must not stay. I know, you have never had this complaint —you must not stay.” , . “Would you say that if I were ins mother?” she asked. “ You have no right to risk your life, he urged. “I have had it; sohas your cousin. We risk nothing; you risk much.” . -naJcct*-'J»n or and my pale sad-faced little cousin became for « while a glowing and almost a beautiful wo man ; “ what do I risk ? Life I It is not so dear, Mr. Forbes. Disfigurement! What change for the worse would that make in my lot?” “ I have had that child’s love,” contin ued Jane, looking back towards the cot, “and nothing, nothing shall make me leave him!” No more was said. Arthur moaned us he lay, and Jane sat on one side of him, and her husband on the other. Three days they sat thus. Three days the little sufferer 'lingered.. On the fourth,®an angel called him and released him from his pain. I was present when he died. That poor peevish little follow had become so patient and so meek in ill ness, that I too, had begun to love him. My heart smote mo when I saw. his eye lids flutter strangely, and his pale lips quiver, and his little face—it was neither blotched nor altered —take the strange calmness of death. Jane wept silently. Mr. Forbes was tearless, and sat looking on like onp turned to stone. At first he seemed incredulous, but at length he un derstood that it was all over. I do not think he saw me; if he did, he forgot me. He turned to his wife. . , “ Jane,” he said. She looked and did not move. “ Jane, come to«me.” She rose, and went and sat on tho couch by his side. With asudden moan, In which love, remorse, and pain seemed to mingle, ho drew her towards him.— He laid, his head on that kind bosom where his child’s head had so often rest ed. It had been the refuge of all little Arthur’s troubles, and it now received the strong man’s passion of grief. Jane tiling her arms around her husband’s neck and mingled her tears with his, and whilst they wept together, the young and innocent^dead 4 slept on and smiled di vinely, with closed eyes, at that fair world, without sorrow, passion, or pain, which it just had entered. I softly stole away* feeling that out of the saddest grief good may come. Long after this, Jane said to me ; “Cousin William, my husband gave mo bis heart in that hour, and he has never taken it back again.” “And never will, little Jane; for if there be a fondly loved wife, you are that woman.”. Jane had the small-pox; but her hus band nursed her through It, but she re covered quickly, and was not at all dis figured. Happy Jane! I saw her the oth er day when I called at the Elms on my way to London, What a bright old house it looked, now that Jane was ioved and happy? How proud Mr. Forbes seemed of his wife and of their only child, a beau tiful boy very mucli like him—need Isay his name is Arthur? Well! Do you know, fond though she evidently was of him, I doubted if Jane loved this Arthur quite so much as she had loved the other one? I told her so. ” The first Arthur,” she replied, was the child of my sorrow: tho second Ar thur is the child of my happiness. Both could not be dear after the same fashion. Besides, the other Arthur loved me best, and this one prefers his father.” “And Annie?” I suggested; about her?” “I neither know nor* care,” replied Jane, with superb indifference. * The dead Arthur makes me fee! secure in the dfist, and with the living Arthur I can defy a dozen Annies.” * Dear little Jane! She was just the same little goose aa ever. It was like her to think that her hold on her husband de pended on a dead or living child. Mr. Forbes knew better. In the fullness of his happiness be told me tho whole story about “ Annie,” as he drove me to the station. Of course he did not tell me who “Annie” was; but he had seen her again at a party, and he could not help saying: “ Cousin William, you cannot imagine what I felt when I compared these two wonffeu—my dear, pretty Jane (pretty Janel oh, love, love!) and that cold, shal low, frivolous woman! My darling felt me shudder as we left, and she thought I . was cold. Cold 11 was thinking—l might j I actually have-married that woman. i©l Sensible. —The Louisville Journal says: “Never buy goods of those who don't advertise, They sell so little that they have to sell dear." HotCo far ADVERTtSEaCEirrs will be inserted at Ten cent* per line for the first'lnsertion, and five cenffi per line for each subsequent Insertion. Quar terly, half-yearly, and yearly advertisements in serted at a liberal redaction on'the above rates* Advertisements should bo accompanied by the Cash. When sent without any length of time specified for publication, they will be continued until ordered out and charged accordingly. JOB POINTING, ' Gauds, CracunAna, and every oth- 1 cr description of Job and Gaud Printing execu ted lu the neatest stylo, at low prices. . . , SIGISSOBAG* Every day well spent led&ons the task ihat God has set us. . As long asamiserlives his money chest is sure to be heir-tight. . Why are base ball pliers great cow ards? Because they-strike and run for homo. No man has a right to do as he pleases, except when he pleases to do wrong.. , Neither false curls, false teeth false calves, nor even false eyes, are as bad os false tongues. Men are colled fools in one age for not knowing what men were colled fools for. asserting in the age before.' •. y •, It is not work that kills men, it Is wor ry. It is not the revolution that destroys the machinery, bub the friction. Unrighteous gains has destroyed mil lions, but bos never made one man per manently prosperous and happy,' Josh Billings says; .1 hold that a man boz as much right to spel a-word as it is pronounced, az he haz tew pronounce it the way it ain’t spelt, A m*an that will do well in hla present place because he longs to be higher, Is fit neither to be where he is nor yet above it. Squinch asked his friend why he mar ried so little a wife ? “ Because,” said he. “ I thought you had known that of all evils we should choose tne least.” When Sheridan taught school, he had in one of his classes a boy who always read partridges for patriarches. “Stop,” exclaimed the wag teacher, “you shall not make game of the patriarchs,” There is a bashful bachelor who dares not meet ladies in the street.' He says they wear so many bugles on their dress es that he fears overtures from them. A man, who was very corpulent, com ing late one evening to a fortified town, asked a countryman whom he met, if he could get in at the gate. “ X should think you might, I saw a.load of hay go lu this morning.” PiiEFEji solid sense to wit; never study to be diverting without bein£ useful; let no jest intrude upon your good manners, nor say anything that may offend mCdea ty or heedlessly hurt the feeiinga of an other. We do not believe in spiritualism or maglo (except slight of hand, and so forth), but what are, w© to say to such a fact as this: “ Theother day a verticious witness actually saw a young man turn into a public house I 1 * “ Who made the world ?” asked a teach er of a little boy who had not been long atschool. The teacher threatened towhip him unless h.o answered, The boy, feel ing impelled to a confession of some sort, borke forth, “ Well, master, 1 made it, bqt I’ll never ddit again 1” A burglar was frightened out of his scheme of robbery by the sweet simplici ty of a solitary spinster, who, putting her, night-capped head out of the window, exclaimed, “Go away,ain’t you asham ed?” . Runaway.—An adveftisementappeara in a Western paper which reads in this wise:. “ Run Away. —A hired man named John, his nose turned up five feet eight inches high,and had on apairof coid.uroy pants much worn.” “ A Little girl, who had received the paternal injunction to remember what the minister said, returned from the church delighted. “I remember some thing,” she said. “ Ah, very glad of it,” repled the father; what didhesry?” “Hesaid,” she cried, “a collection will now be takeii up.” A fellow coining out of a tavern one frosty- morning rather top laeevy, fell 'on the door step, trying to regain his footing he remarked: “If it be true that the wicked stand on slippery ground I must belong to a different class for it’s more than I can do.” A friend once visiting an unworldly philosopher whose mind was his king dom, expressed some surprise cftthe small ness of his apartment: ‘Why you have not room to swing a cat/ * My friend/ was the serene, unappre ciative answer. ‘ I do not want toswinga .cat/ A story is told of a soldier who about one hundred and fifty years ago was fro zen in Siberia. The last expression he made was, “it is ex-V’ .He then froze as stiff as marble. Jn the summer of 1860 some French physicians found him, after having laid frozen for one hundred and. fifty years. They gradually thawed him, and upon animation being restored, he concluded his sentence with “ceedingly cold.” - In one of the Dutch churches in a rural village on.the Hudson, a good old mun was acting in the capacity of master of ceremonies at the funeral of a highly ie spectabie citizen. As is customary on such occasions, he invited the assemo ed mourners to view the corpse of their de parted friend, and In the following lan guage; “All can now have the pleasure of looking at the last remains of *yhe old est man now living in the town ofB.” On a rainy wintry evening, a gentle man traveling in a cab found, on neap ing his destination, that he had no mon ey with him, so (kinking he would try the honesty of the cabman, he called out as he ran up the steps, u wait a minute; I have dropped a 'sovereign ia the cab, and will’ get a I'glit and search for it.” The words were barely spoken, when the cab man gave the horse a furious lash, and drove off a&ALviolent rate. The gentle man, heavdjfamused at the result, cull ed after him repeatedly, but never saw cab or driver again. • Jy Truthful Answer.—Bunkhum, In, the old North 1 State, is undoubtedly the healthiest spot on earth and it was on that account that some,‘Mo.wer country gentle men” were surprised one day to see a Bunkhumite at work on aiiomihous hole in the ground. Of course they Inquired what he was about. ' ' “Digging a grave, sir.” “Digging a grave! Why, I thought people didn’t die often here—do they?” }• Oh, no sir, they never die but once I” Ip men dldbutknowwhat fell oity dwells In theoottageof avlrtuous poor man—how sound he sleeps, how quiet his rest, how composed his mind, how free from care, how easy his provision, how healthy his morning, how sober his night, how moist his mouth, how joyful his> heart—they would never admire the. noises, the dis eases, the throng of passions, and the vi olence of unnatural appetites, that till tiie houses of the luxurious and the'hearts of "the ambitious. —Jeremy Taylor. - “ wjml A Dutchman’s Temperance Lec tdbe. —“I shall toll you how it vas. I put mine hand on mine bead, and there vas von pig pain. Then! put mine hand on mine pody, and there vas anOder.—- Then I put mine hand In mine pocket, and there vas nothing. So I jiued, mit de temperance. Now there was no more pain in mine head. The pains in mine jody vas all goneoway. I put mine hand u mine pocket, and there. vas twanty dollars. Bo Ishail sthay mid de temper ance.’’ 1 Cuiuous Directions fob a Young Lady’s Dress. —Let your ear-rings be attention, encircled by the pearls ofire finement. Let the . diamonds of your necklace be truth, and the chain of Chris tianity., Let your bracelets be charity, ornamented with the pearls of gentleness. Let your boaom-plu be modesty, set with compassion. Let your finger-rings be af fection, set .with the diamonds of indus try. Let your girdle be simplicity, with a tassel of good humor. Let your garb ’be virtue—your drapery politeness. Let your, sli'oes be wisdom, secured with the ouokies of peraf^orenoa.— Troy Budget.