®ljc American iJoluntccr. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY BRATTON Sc KENNEDY. OFFICE—SOUTH 19ABKET SQUARE, Terms:— I Two Dollars per year If paid strictly in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if paid Within throe months; after which Three Dollars Will bo charged. These terms will bo rigidly ad hered to in ©very Instance. No subscription dis continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at ho option of the Editor. t professional <ttarUs. A DAM KELLER, Attorney at /V Law, Carlisle. Offloo with W. M, Ponroso, Esq., Rheem’s HolL Cm labor 8 f IWtf—Cm* ' U"NXTBD STATES CLAIM HEAL ESTATE AGENCYI ' WM. B. SUTLER, ATTOBNKY AT LAW, P »ons. Bounties, Back Pay, So., promptly “Applications by mall, will receive Inr mediate tore of Inquiry, please enclose postage stamp. July 11, 1807—tf _ pwR. GEORGE S. SB ARIGHT, Hen 1/ tibt. From the Baltimore College of Denial ■Jurncru. Office at the residence of ms mother, East leather Street, throe doors below Bedford, Carlisle, Penna. Dec. 1,1805. . T M WEAKLEY, Attorney atL aw. til . office on South Hanover street. In the room ■formerly occupied by A. B. Sharpe. Esq. tt, b. bELTZHOOVER, Attorney C ■ and Codnoedob AT LAW, Carlisle, Venna. .raioo on Bonth Hanover street, :Storo. By special arrangement with the l atent • Office, attends to securing Patent Bigntfi. . Dec! 1,1805. ' CHAB. B. MAGLAUGHLIN, Attor ney at Law. Office In Building formerly occupied by Volunteer, o few doors Booth of Han mon’B Hotel. Deo. 1,1805. TOHN. C. GRAHAM, Attorney at • I law. Office formerly occupied by Judge (Graham, South Hanover street, Carlisle, Penna. Deo. 1,1805—ly. MC. HERMAN, Attorney at Law. , Office In Bhoem’e Hall Building, In tlin rear of tho Court House, next door to tho Her aid" Office, Carlisle, Penna. Doc. 1,1805. ivy b. SADLER, Attorney at Law, W . Carlisle, Penna. Office In Bffildlng for merly occupied by Volunteer, Hanover street. Deo. 1, 1805. Tier KENNEDY Attorney at Law, W - Carlisle, Penna. Office same as that ox the "American Volunteer," South side of tho Pub lic Square. Dec. 1. 1805. . J” OHN LEE, Attorney at Law, . North Hanover Street, Carlisle, Pa., * cb. 15,1800—ly. • •* TAMES A. DUNBAR, Attorney at • I law. Carlisle, Penna. Office a few doors \VcHt of Hannon’s Hotel. Doc.l, WO5. - T\n: J. R. BIXIiER offers bis profes- I j atonal services to the citizens of Carlisle and V Main street, opposite the Jail, In the room lately occupied by L. Todd, Esq. April 11,1607— ly . ' ' A JBtg ©ootm. SPRING! 1867. 1867. bargains Now opening In DOMESTIC GOODS, DEESS GOODS, '.OASSIMERES, SATTINETTS AND JEANS, WHITE GOODS, DRESS TRIMMINGS, ZEPHYRS, RIBBONS AND NOTIONS AT / RING’S NEW STORE, NO. G 5 WEST MAIN STREET, Opposite tho Mansion House, Next door to tho Pest Office, Carlisle. April 18,1807. D/>n HOOP SKIRTS. ' 628. WILLIAM T. HOPKINS. “OUE OWN MAKE.” After more Umn nve yonre experience and ■norlmentlna In the manulooture of STIUCTIj x SIBBT QUALITY HOOP SKIRTS, wo offer our justly celebrated goods to merchants and the public in confidence of their.superiority ovei: oU others iu tho American market, and they ate so acknowledged by all who wear or deal In them, os they give more satisfaction than any other skirt, ana recommend themselves In every ro- wHoiii NOT GIVEN THEM A TRIAL SHOULD DO SO WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY. •. .. Our assortment embraces every style, length and size for Ladles. Misses and Afco, Skirts MADE TO ORDER, altered and repolml. Ask for “ Hopkins’ Own Make,*’ and be not de ceived. See that the letter “H” is woven on tho tapes between each hoop, and that they are stamped “ W. T, HOPKINS, MANUFACTURER, C2S ARCH STREET, PHILADELPHIA,’ upon each tape. No others are genuine. i Also, constantly on hand a full line of good Now York and Eastern made Skirts, at very low Prl ° eS ‘ WHOLESALE AND RETAIL, RHILADELRIiXA. WILU AM T , aoPKraS , p r lf,Wf— tOm. 39rug g?tores- P«.C,M.WDBTBB«iTO tI . "JSjJ'E W, I> BXJ G STORE. The subscribers have opened a new DRUG AND CHEMICAL STORE, No. 7, East Main Street , Carlisle , where they have Just received a large and fresh apply of the very best DRUGS AND MEDICINES to bo found in tho City Markets, to which they invite the attention of the pnbllo. ' Also, a large variety of PERFUMERY AND FANCY ARTICLES, Dye Stuffs, and all the various Patent Medicines. All Drugs and Medicines warranted pure. 49- Prescriptions carefully compounded. • CORN MAN & WORTHINGTON, April 25. XBG7—6m DRUGS I DRUGS l—Dr. D. Cormhan having to relinquish on extensive practice, • os well os ula Drug business In the city of Pitts* burg, several years ago, on account of ill health, has now opened at No. 88 N. Hanover street,he* 'tween the office’s of Drs. Kiefler and Zitzer.a DRUG STORE, where he has and Is receiving,ev •oryfow days a pare stock of Drugs, Chemicals, Dye Stulls and everything generally kept in a •well-regulated City Drag Store,. Prescriptions •carefully compounded and family receipts Will .receive special core. The Dr, can be consulted at ;any hour, at his office, hack of his store, or at bis •dwelling. No. 112 N. Hanover street, after store ihoars. Remember the place, No. 88 N. Hanover :StrMt - CarU "’ e - " us. P. COBNMAN. Sopt. 12. igai— ly - . . : /'iABD TO THE AFFLICTEP —pr. VILA. Simpson' may be consulted ottho Pennsylvania House, Carlisle, from October 23d to October 25th, whore he will prescribe Electric Remedies* for the euro of every form of male or female disease. Office hoars from 8 toll o’clock, A, M.and from 1 to i o’clock, P. M. Consulta tions by letter or otherwise promptly attended to. Operations and consultations in any part of the country solicited. •Ez.47,12; Rev. 22,2; Rom, 14,3: 'lsa. 88^1^ REooMMENns.TioNs.-R* A, Simpson, M. p,— “Ho Isa genuine reformer and one of our best and most scientific physicians.” —Elecirio Medical Journal, Philo. JPa. „ . . “U, A. Simpson, M. D„ is so well known hero that it would be superfiuous to say much la com* mcndatloa of him, for ho Is known over a large •.territory as a preeminently successful practillou ,er and a gentleman in whose Integrity the pub lic may place .the most Implicit confidence.”— Marfonk Tima, Maryland, the Imericaii Doltinteet BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. [Special Correspondence of the Press. COLORADO. PHYSICAL OEOQBAPHY— MINERAL RE SOURCES —MINING ARABLE LANDS— GRAZING CAP AC ITIES—PUBLIC IM PROVEMENTS—UNION PACIFIC RAIL WAY, EASTERN DIVISION—POPULAR MISTAKE—THE FUTURE OF COLARADO. CaN C. T., Sept. 4,1807. A trip of one thousand miles through Colorado, extending from the New Mexico line to Gilpin’s Pillars in the ,north, and from Kansas to the Uncom pagre Mountains in the west, has given the writer opportunities for observation of which helms tried to avail himself, and the result may tend to throw anoth er rny of light on a section of our coun try destined to occupy no minor posi tion in the future success of the nation. PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. Through Colorado Territory runs the grand continental water-shed, and in it wo find the greatest altitude of arable plateau. A curious feature of the Ter ritory is its chain of 1 Parks,’ lying west of the first mountain range met in com ing from the east. The aggregate length of these parks is about four hundred miles. The first—the St. Luis Park— has an elevation (mean) of 8,500 feet.— It is level as the prairies, andis watered by forty-seven streams, thirty of which flow westward from the Sierra Mojava, and the remainder eastward from the Sierra Madre. Twenty-three of these streams flow into a number of lakes in the northern part of the park, which have no outlet; the rest are tributaries of the Del Norte, This river leaves the Sierra Madre and flows due east till it reaches the middle of the park, when it makes a sweeping bend of twenty miles and flows due-south to the gulf. North of St. Luis Park, the Wet Mountains and a spur of the main range form a wall between the Park and the Arkansas, which can only be crossed through the Puncho Pass. Along the Arkansas,'as with all the streams, there is a belt- of arable land, then comes the wall of the South Park. This park differs from the St. Luis, for while the latter is nearly level, the former is rolling, and would be called mountainous but for the high er peaks of the snowy range to the west. There are no large-streams in South Park. The grass is fine, and the slopes are covered with magnificent pines.— Eighty miles north come the moun tains, near Breckinridge, and beyond them the smaller and more uneven Middle Park. West of the main range the country 1s broken. Still, along the tributaries of the Colorado, are a num ber of beautiful vallles extending to the park of Los Arlmos. Not only does the country slope east and west from the main range in Colorado, but it also falls away to the north and south, giving the Territory, as a whole, the greatest mean elevation on the continent. EFFECT ON CLIMATE AND VEGETATION. The limit of arborescent vegetation in Colorado, as obtained by barometrical observations, is 12,000 feet, an elevation which nearly corresponds with the same limit in the great mountain ranges of -the globe near the equator. Thus the Schlagintreits give the limits of the trees on the Himalaya (about lat. 31 de grees)at 11,800 feet; on the Andes with in the tropica, it is said by Humboldt, not to reach 11,500 feet. I believe that in Mexico alone does it attain the eleva tion of 12,800 feet. On mountains of the same or even, lower latitudes, it is much lower than in Colorado. Tho Peak ofTeneriffe, if I remember rightly, has the tree line at 7,800 feet, while Mount Etna, (latitude 88 degrees, near ly the same as Pike’s Peak), bears no trees beyond the elevation of 6,000 feet, and on the Swiss-Alps in latitude 48 degrees, it is one hundred feet lower.— The cause of this remarkable, apparent deviation, from physical laws, is to be found in the great elevation of the greatest plateau on theglobe, whichex tends between the upper confluents of the Mississippi and the California const range, over from 12 to 20 degrees of longitude, and from the plateau of Mex ico far into the British possessions; wid "est between the parallels of 40 and 42 degrees, at an elevation of from 4,000 to 7,000 feet, reaching its highest point in Colorado Territory; thus carrying the general mean temperature of the whole region far above that of smaller moun tain ranges, or isolated peaks of the same altitude and under the same lati tude. Another cause of this higher mean temperature is to be found in the ab sence of perpetual snows in the Colora do mountains, which, whenever pres ent, cannot fail to depress the tempera ture of the regions next below them.— The snow lino proper-is not reached in Colorado at all, though incases of snow are found on mrny nigh points all the year round. It may not be uninterest ing in this connection to append a short table of elevations. The “ cities” ex tend from 5,300 (Denver) to 8,600 feet (Empire City), and a few small towns even reach 10,000 feet (Jefferson and Tarryall). Head of Middle Park (sur vey station), 8,690 feet; heavy timber on eastern slope of Mount Engelman, 11,578; summit of Pike’s Peak, 14,800 feet; first appearhee of pinva aristota, 9,342 feet; hot springs at head of Sc Luis Park, 8,20 p feet. Some of the elevations, are obtained by triangulation and oth ers by barometrical observations. MINERAL RESOURCES. The mineral wealth of Oolorado is un surpassed, and those ores from which she is yet to be enriched remain un touched, awaiting the development which is sore to follow-the construction of a railroad in their vicinity. Coal, which I place at the head of the list, ex ists in unlimited quantities along the eastern slope of the first range, which Is carboniferous in its formation. I exam ined a stratum of this bituminous coal near Hard Scrabble, which cropped in an arqyo, and was eight feet thick. This bed alone overlies an area of over one hundred square miles, and, strange to state, there is but one claim taken up on the space named. Judge Webster, of Canon City, showed me specimens of iron ore found in the Wet Mountains, near by, that would yield sixty per cent, of pure metal, and it exists in abundance. Copper is to be found in many places west of the first range, and argentiferous ore is now being worked to advantage in the mines near Breck inridge. Gold, both in river beds, gul ches, and quartz rocks, exists in the un . stratified regions, though the present system of working it has really been a curse to the Territory. MINING. There is a fascination about gold mi ning that, despite the experience taught by the ruin Qf iso many, yearly leads thousands of inexperienced men to risk their all in wild speculations. Nearly every dollar taken from the earth in gold requires an amount of labor-that • would produce a dollar on a farm or in a workship. Colorado has been a stern teacher to many, and while, giant for tunes bftVP been made here, the Terri tory b.eijra thFOPgh its gold regions the evidences of fortunes Just; andlabor ex pended In vain, Mon inexperienced m mining, and companies experlraentipg with some imaginary philosopher’s stone, have, as a rule, been disappoint ed here, The wild-cat speculations, and the unsettled state of mining matters in cident thereto, have been very injurious to the gold interests, Again, men do not stick to it long enough jo under stand it thoroughly. One year they jiTP in the mines, another year driving team, and again trying to coax a crop_ from a sterile soil through the agency of some little trout stream as an irrigator, falling in which they again become mi nors. - -- Whenevermenhavofollowedupmlning Intelligently they have been well re paid. This year the mines on Cherry Creek have paid about ten dollars per day, and California gulch, Tarryall, Fairplay, and Cash Creek have been yielding fifteen dollars, or nearly one ounce per day to the hand. This is considered extraordinary. The great gold yields are yft to come, when capi tal and skill combine to wrest it, not from the river bed or gulch, but from the grasp of ,the flinty quartz. There is enough gold in the mountains of Colo rado to pay the national and then have enough left to pave the American quarter of the New Jerusalem. The amount required, however, for the lat ter purpose need not necessarily exhaust the mountains. AGRICULTURAL RESOURCES. Colorado has long been self-sustaining. Along the Arkansas corn equal to any in the Northern States is grown, and in its mountain valleys a good quality of wheat pays for cultivation. The great draw back to farming is the want of rain, or rather the want of a clayey subsoil to retain moisture. Irrigation has to be depended on, and so far has proved to be a success. The lands under cultiva tion on the Huerfano yield fine harvests of corn, wheat, oats, and barley. Po tatoes appear to grow better on the ele vated parks, and a fine quality is raised on tho streams in the Bt. Luis and Sa watch regions, though they are too cold for corn. I saw in the Mexican settle ments on the Conajos, cabbage, beets, and all the kitchen vegetables in abun dance, and of a good quality. GRAZING. As irrigation has to be depended on in farming, the only lauds that can be cultivated are,those bordering on the streams, and consequently, the lessfir parts of the level surface. Back from the rivers, however, and even up the mountain sides, to an elevation in some daces of 10,000 feet, grass is to be found n abundance. This fact at once sug gests a new source of wealth to the Ter ritory, viz; the growth of herds. Near Bent’s Fort lives' a Mr. Cowper, who told me that in five years he had made nearly $BO,OOO, on 800 head of stock, and that he never winter-fed one of them.— Stock raising can be pursued along the Arkansas ana Huerfano with even more success than in Texas, and if - continued in is sure to yield a heavy per cent, on the amount invested. Sheep raising is beginning to claim some attention, but unfortunately the breed in the Tcrrito-' ry is very inferior. The scrubby, con sumptive-looking Mexican sheep, that yields barely one and a half pounds of wool at a shearing, is the only sheep found. It could be crossed, however, advantageously with our long-wool va rieties, and he who undertakes this ref ormation is sure to reap a golden har vest. The parks, with their fine gram ma grass and clear streams, offer every advantage to sheep-growers, which I trust soon may be rendered available. — I will venture a prophecy here, viz:— that in twenty years hence the capital employed in the grazing interests of Colorado will not bo surpassed by that engaged in her mines, nor will the pro fit be less. RAILROADS, As on nearly evrything connected with this region, in the East we find some misunderstanding. I regret to state thsro seems to he confusion in ref erence to the great railways being built across the continent and through Colo rado. This mistake may have arisen from some similarity in the names, but it is to be hoped for both roads and for the better-posting of the dublic, that any inlormation which throws light on the subject be given publicity. The most northern road is known as The Union Pacific Bailroad." It is being built from Omaha, Nebraska, along a similar latitude, and through the moun tains on to the Pacific. This road has great energy and wealth, though it is to be regretted that the mountain ele vations must ever prove, along its route, an insurmountable barrier to winter transportation. The other road is known as “ The Union Pacific Railway, Eastern Division," or, more popularly, ns the Kansas Pacific Railroad. Its eas tern terminus -is Wyandotte, Kansas ; its destination, San Diego, from which branches will run north to San Fran cisco, and south to Guaymas, on the Gulf of California. At mention of the names above, it might seem that this road was the longer; such, howov er. is not the case. It will in, reality be over two hundred miles shorter than the other road. From "Wyandotte, the line runs due west through the 'most fertile part of Kansas, and is continued on to Denver. The main line turns southeast of Denver, and goes on to Santa Fe, Albuquerque, and thence west to the destination above named. By looking at the map it will be seen that this line traverses the most prom ising parts of unsettled country, and crossing the mountains, where they are lowest, no fears can be entertained for the stoppage of transportation at any season. From these lines Colorado must be benefited immensely. The In dian troubles alone prevented a flood of immigration this year; still Colorado is rising, and will soon evolve a brilliant star from the Territorial nebula, to be fixed in the galaxy of States. When our statesmen fully comprehend the question of railroads, forts will crumble in tho West, the Indian, will cease his wars, and the locomotive will become the great pioneer. Arc. Men Wanted.—The great wont of this age is men | men who are not-for sale: men who are honest, sound from center to circumference, true to the heart’s core: men who will condemn wrong in friend or foe, in themselves as well as others; men who will stand for the right if the heavensrtotter and the earth reels; men who can tell the truth, and look the world and the devil right in the eye: men who neither brag nor run; men that neither flag nor fllnon; men who have courage without wrestling for It, and joy without shouting to bring it; men in whom the current of everlasting life runs still and strong: men too large for secta rian limits, and too strong for sectarian bondsmen who do not snivel nor cry, nor cause their voices to be heard in the street, but who will not foil nor be dis couraged till judgment be set upon the earth: men who know theirmessageand tell it; men who know their duty and do it; men who know their place and filllt: men who will notdle; men who are not too lazy to work, nor too proud to be poor; men who are willing to eat what they have earned, and wear what they have paid for, — Investigator. ■ Another Ati.antio Caiilk,— The pro posed cable from France to the .United States is said to be In a fair way to be suc cessfully laid. The preliminary sound ings, began four months ago, are an nounced by thi Paris newspaperese be completed, and they state that the cable wlilbe laid from Brest to St. Pierre Mi quelon, in Nova Scotia.lt having been ascertained that the bottom of the oceau along that Una is favorable. Prom' St. Pierre it will go along the- coast of New Brunswick, and the shores of Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts .and Connecticut. The immerslou of theca ble, now making in Loudon, is to begin next May, and the Great Eeastern is to bo employed to lay it. It is hoped that a I month WiU suffice for the work, and that in July, 1868, telegraphic communication 1 will be opened. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY. OCTOBER IT. 1867. 818. BEMINGTON. BY HATTIE TYNQ. I waa standing upon the long colon nade of the Cataract House at Niagara, gazing down upon the rapids, whose white foam I was never weary of watch ing. I had just arrived upon my annual visit to this Holy Water of our land, and was taking my first long, lingering, lov ing look at the foaming waters beneath me, when I started suddenly upon hear ing my own name pronounced-close at hand. ‘Mr. Remington!’ In a,voice of glad surprise; and turning, gave both my hands to the gentleman, whose name I had spoken, who bent over them almost low enough to kiss them, bat' suddenly drew back, and gazed far, away over the snow-white rapids, with eyes so full of a deep and passionate sorrow that it made my heart beat wldiy with afseling which was so much stronger than sympathy, that it was almost terror. ‘ Did you ever think, Miss Marshall,’ ho said, In a low voice, as he pointed down to the wildest of tho tumultuous breakers, ‘ of what a grand place this would be in which to finish up ono’s mortal career? —for instance, how sub lime it would bo to plunge in yonder, where the -waters are the blackest, and have those white-capped waves close over you forever!’ ‘No!’ I answered, lightly; ‘ lam not so sublime a mortal as some of my ac quaintances, and should much prefer an end less sublime and tragic; it may be met much more comfortable and -Cnrls tian-llke—in my bed—of an influenza, for instance, or what is much more likely in my case, of an indigestion.’ He did not heed my careless remarks ; but after a moment’s silence, said, more to himself than to me: ‘ And yet you have a nature strong and passionate almost as iuy own; tragic ele ments In it of which you do not oven dream; it Is because ns yet you are hap py, that you never have wild, dreadful, uncontrollable • thoughts, which make you shudder when you are calm. I sup- 1 pose I ought to wish that you should al ways be happy; but if you are, you will never know some of the deepest and wildest—l might almost say—some of the fiercest delights of living. These .fol low only on agonies, and tempestuous hurrloans of feellnges.’’ ‘ I would very, very gladly avoid these extremes,’ I answered, more seriously; for the deep feeling in tho dark cavern ous depths of his eyes subdued my spirits, Shore was something in my tones loh told him he haa saddened me, and his brow cleared Instantly, and he answered lightly: ‘ Don’t let me bo a bird of evil omen to you, dear Miss Marshall. 7 shall get, to be called the Haven of watering-places, if I take the sparkle out of the eyes of its belles, as I did out of yours just now.— You looked exultlngly happy but a mo ment before I spoke. Let us forget fore bodings, and live on'the surface of life, floating as lightly as we can, and never think of the depths beneath. I engage I you for a waltz, and a redowa, and a stroll out here by moonlight this even ing, when I will promise not to say a wordto dlscouragejond am, meanwhile, your most devoted Raven,* And, with a bow and a smile, he was gone. I stood where he had left me for a long time, gazing afar • off at the faint and dreamy outlines of the landscape, and thinking, as I had thought so often of late, of Mr. Remington. He had come upon me unexpectedly, as he had done so many times within the last two years. I had met him first at Rome—a able man anywhere, with dark pointing Cyes, pale brow, and strangely sad- voice. After that we. met I had climbed mountains with him In Switzer land. and swam with him in a gondola at Venice j we had ascended the Rhine to gether, and hiing with delight over the shine pictures in half the galleries of Eur rope—and all by acciednt. He never went with us by premeditation. Often when wo were making up parties for this place or that, he had been invited to join us; but invariably declined, having always engagements elsewhere, , But ■he was ever coming upon - us afterward, in the most abrupt and accidental wayf some times he would be but a day behind us,' and sometimes we would not see him for weeks; but come upon us be would; soon er or later, till he had become known among us as the Inevitable Night. We could not seem to escape him. Not that we wished to do so; he was the most strangely fascinating of companions.— There was something weird and mystical about him ; something deep and dreamy; and something so wondjxmsly sad at times, that all our hearts were moved to ward him with sympathy, and almost with tenderness. We knew almost noth ing of him, except his name. His home, he had once told ua, was in the far South, and he used to delight in describing to ua the glories of tropic lands; but of friends or family he never spoke. « Mr. Remington is here,* said thevoice of my cousin Constance, as she laid her hand on my shoulder, and joused me from my dream, ‘ did you know it? Hid I not. Had not that been the one thought with which I bad been busy since he left me. ‘ Mr. Remington is hero!* It sent a strange, wild thrill of delight through me, to say it to myself—it seem ed to cast a kind or bewildering spell oyer me, to feel it—and with it all, a kind of nameless terror seemed to hover over me. ‘Yes, cousin, I have seen Mr. Reming ton,* I replied, 1 You know we cannot escape the Inevitable!* And with my words came a kind of a wish to become in perfect faith a fatalist. I somehow wished that my fate might be marked out for me beyond all hope of and that I might drift on Into it without any need of resistance. Then may cousin led me away to dress: and in the evening we had waltz, and redowa, ’ and moonlight-stroll. And many more. He began to hover around me ifke my shadow. There was no view of the grand and awful place which we did not see together. There was no spot of interest for miles around which we did not explore. The place had always been to me the dearest in the world. I had been born within the sound of Ita waters, and I had always taken great pleasure and pride in the met. Somehow, Niagara always seemed to belong to mo more than to any mere casual visitor. It was a sa cred spot to me—a very holy of holies in Nature’s great cathedral. - - you know,* said Mr. Remington to me, one morning, ‘what those mighty waters always seem saying to me?* • * Something grand ana solemn, I am sure, X answered. ‘Yes, the chant is forever new, yet ever old.. The Niagara is a grand organ, forever pealing forth * the Lord ia.ln His holy temple, let all the world kflpP si lence, which, by the woy,* he added with a careless laugh, ‘ you, ore not to consider a hint to hold your tongue; for there la no woman bn earth whose Voice la so sweet os yours; Indeed.’ he contin ued, breaking out with his rich voice In to song, "‘Thereare none of beauty’s daughters With a magic like thee; . And like maslo on the waters,' Is thy sweet voice to me,"’. There was enchantment In tyls voice, and a look In his eye as. ho silled .down at'me; which all at once sent the hot blood trembling through my veins In a raging tumult. I had Always before laughed at his .cordless, gfticeful compli ments, and never remembered having blushed In his presence. Now, all » once, my face grew scarlet beneath his gaze. In that moment I for the first time acknowledged to myself that I loved him. I had felt tip? thrilling fascination of hls'.presenco always fbuthis manner had never been that of a lover, and I had never really questioned my heart con cerning him. Now, all at once, the con sciousness came upon me that I deeply, madly loved him, and In my heart I was obliged to .confess, with hojproof of a slmr liar feeling on his, side. : Jj* my 1 poqfuaioq l bad rlaen| and was walking hastily away when ho called my name, and looking back I caught a momentary glimpse of his face. It was deadly palo, and full of an almost convulsive struggle. I turned suddenly back toward him, thinking him ill; But as ho saw mo ad vancing toward him he turned bis baok upon me, and plunged deeply Into tho wood. I stood where I was in mute be wilderment, and a trembling shiver crept over me—a feeling of terror and forebo ding Which I was unable to shake off.— I passed tho day like one In a dream; and when I was endeavoring to dress for the evening, my cousin Constance ex claimed: *Ada, cousin Ada, you will never be dressed to-night, if you stand there, ga zing at nothing like one In a trance.— What in tho world Is tho matter, Ada? Has his demonshlp, the Herr Von Rem ington, bewitched you? You have caught the very look in hla eye. I didn’t use to call your eyes black, maohere; but ever since.you, have known Mr. Remington, they’ve been growing blacker and black er, and to-night they are almost as deep as hlsown.’ ■ X blushed again, almost as I bad blush ed in the morning, and my cousin’s quick eyes detected me. * Why, what is this, Ada, darling,’ sho said, as she came up and took my bauds in hers, and looked me full in tho face. — 4 You do not love this man? And her face grew ashy white os sho said it. * I am afraid I do, with my whole soul.’ ‘Then God have mercy upon you!— Why, Ada Marshall, what do you think I have heard to-day ?’ ‘ Toll me In tho name of Heaven I’ ‘Why, cousin mine, Mr. Remington’s no lover for any girl; he has a tfifo now living In Florida/ ‘ Then/ I exclaimed, ‘he Is an honora ble man, cousin; for, although lam ful ly persuaded that he loves me even us I love him, yet he has never uttered a word which has told me so.” A feeling of suqh utter helplessness and wretchedness came over me at that moment, that X ran and buried my face in the pillows of my bed and .burst into an uncontrollable paroxysm of, tears. X never wept so either before or since, great passionate sobs shook iny whole frame, and it seemed to me that my heart would literally break within my bosom. After a while I forced my cousin to leave mo to myself out into the latest hours of the night. I moaned and sobbed to myself in the darkness. Yonng love’s first dream had been to me so subtle and be wildering, had woven such a dreamy spoil around me, that X had been wildly, wonderfully happy for many months, •and altogether unconscious of the cause. I had never until this very day said to myself, I love this man. And now I was awakened from my brief consciousness with so great a shock that it seemed to shake the vdry centre of my existence. My love for Mr. Remington was so great that even in that first hour of my agony I did not blame him as I ought for the part he hod borne in my, terrible deception. I endeavored to persuade my self that he had been guiltless, and tbat I alone was to blame for any fatal mistake ; but I could not even then forget that he had followed me, sought mo, and en deavored to please me os ho hod never done to another. True, he had never said, *X love youbut that was a slight thing; be had looked it and acted it in a thousand ways. X kept my own room for a week. X dared not encounter Mr. Remington; but my cousin, who saw him daily, told me everything she could tell concerning him. She had told him I was III; and for the first d&y or two ho had made many inquiries, but after that never mentioned my name. She said he was terribly wan and pale, and walk ed by himself continually. I used to watch for him furtively from my cham ber-window to obtain but one glimpse of him. Like the lady Browning has told of, I “ watched the square Hire a book Holding one picture, and only one, Which dally to And I undertook; When the picture was reached, the book was done." At the end of a week a servant handed me a little note, which I knew instinc tively was from him, and tore open with a great thrill. ( It said only: • “You will not refuse to see me one last time, I promise It shall bathe last if you wish it. At all events, I must and will see you. ' Reminoton.” I pressed the note passionately to my lips. I hid it in my bosom. I felt that I must refuse to see him, and I had not the strength of an infant to resist the wild desire I had to see him once more, to hear what ho had to say, and to bid him farewell forever. And, indeed, I ■jersuaded myself that there was noal i ernatives that I could not leave the place without seeing him, and that I must im mediately leave him. and fly where I should never, never see or hear of him again. So after a while I calmed my self and dispatched an answer to his note. I wrote: “I shall como down to tho drawing-room this evening. , Ada.” It was late when I went down; for as die evening approached, my agitation had increased to such an extent that X could scarcely be dressed for the evening, and many of my friends at once crowded around to congratulate me on my recov ery, for all had supposed me ill. Then it was some time before I caught sight of Mr. Remington, but he at last crowded his way up I was sitting, and claimed my hand for our favorite waltz, which was just ploying; and as I hesita ted, he whispered in my ear: 41 It is best so, I must have a long talk with you, alone, and it is not best to seem particular; we will dance first, and then naturally promenade on the balcony. 1 ? I yielded as I always did to whatever he’ suggested, and we waltzed. That waltz! the music of it is still ringing in my brain; I danced like one In an ecsta cy. I was as air. I glided up and down the long room with scarce a physical ex istence. 1 seemed to be a spirit, and as we whirled round and round to the en trancing music. I wished that that mo ment might last for an eternity. At lost the music ceased, and. Mr. Remington, careful as over or my comfort,' brought my shawl, and we stepped together put Upon the moonlighted colonnade. ‘We cannot talk here,’ he said, in a low voice, and led me away down a auiet walk until we reached the bridge which crossed to Goat Island; and at last wo, stood there looking down upon the learn ing waters of the Rapids, and thou first he spoke. ‘ 1 never said to you, Ada Marshall, I love you; and, what la more, I never meant to say it to you, but fato would have it otherwise*. And How Ido say it to you, say it with my whole heart and soul; X love you as man never In this world loved woman before, love you wild ly and madly* ' . .. A shiver crept ovqr me from head to foot, I trembleuso violently that he gath ered my arm close in his, and said: ‘ Pray, pray be calm; you agitato mo out of myself, I forgot everything when I move you thus.’ \ „ . „ After a moment I controlled myself, oud stood back from himia step or two, and answered not a wordi Then he went on speaking rapidly, and almost fiercely: • * • « * Ada Marshall, God knows I have tried to avoid this hour. . I. have struggled with myself as desperately as human soul | ever struggled with temptation, but I am carried away out of myself' by my wild love for youand I will speak it, if the heavens fell. Ever since T mot you, I have loved you, I at once resolved to leave you before you could feermore than a passing interest lu me. Heaven only knows how I tried, oud how often I fail ed. You remembered when we were on the Continent, how often I left you and how persistently I returned. Every time I left you thus, and then lt was after a struggle, compared with, which any other suffering of my life was ?aay to bear; and my sorrows have not ; been light. Never was mortal mau so cursed as I have been cursed since my earliest youth by a woman whom I loved with the loye of p boy, on 4 to whom lu* fcrnal fate united me. She was worthy of the love of no man. I will not speak moroill of her than I can help; I will not toil you how she grew to hate me, and made it the study of her life to torture mo; and how lln turn cursed and hated her, but how sho ever refused to have our loathsome union cease. I left her again and again, absolutely refusing to live with her,longer; but she followed me every where, hunting me like a tiger with her ferocious hate. All my lifetime haa she Inflicted upon me mortifications and ago nies innumerable; and she still lives, bearing, in spite of me, the name of my wife, and living apparently only to tor ment mo. I have been abroad for years, and never meant to return to my native land, and have only done so now because I am overpowered and completely beside myself by my love lor you. 1 wish at this instant to clasp yon in my arms, and plunge down among those wild, black waters; whore no human power could separate us.’ I drew back from him appalled. I fear ed ho was going mad, his excitement so overmastered him. Ho grow calmer and drew nearer mo, taking both my hands In his. ‘ Until a week ago, I never even dream ed of telling you all this. I hoped and prayed that you might never love- mo ; but still I was so weak, or wicked, or both, that I could not keep away from you—could not resistat times a wUO hope that you might .love mo. But when, a week ago, I • read in your blushing face hoped and dreaded to see there, the real struggle had just begun.— It was such delight to feel that I was be loved, and by the one I adored, that my sad, lonely, miserable heart came near breaking with its fullness. I have thought .about it till my braiu is giddy and wild, and I have at last determined that no "power on earth shall separate us. You are mine and I am yours before God, and no obstacle which human law and custom can interpose shall part us—ought to part us evermore. We will live for each other, and bo tho happiest children upon earth, and the idle world may say what it will. Away off under the blue sky of Italy wo will make our home ; and I fully believe my darling Ada, that God will smile upon us I’ Mauy times I had tried to check him.as lie hurried on with his wild, impetuous torrent of words; but when at last I could speak, I had not a word of auger, or re proach, or expostulation, X felt myself completely under his control, that I could only pray, and beseech him to leave mo to my agony—cease to tempt mo with his siren-voice. Again and again ho entreat ed me, with all the matchless eloquence of which ho was tho master, to love him, to trust him, to bo his. And at last, when wild with many contending emo tions, I madly assented to consider what ho had said, and teil him on the next evening what I would do. I flow from him in dismay, and almost horror, and at last reached my own room ; where, powerless and entirely helpless of myself, I at last clung to God’s skirts and prayed. And then grew calm, after many hours of agonizing thought, and de termined to escape forever from this great temptation, if such a thing could be, by secrecy and flight. I would go away where I should nevermore see his face or hear his voice; for in this cowardly re sort was, X felt, my only hope. And at last, after wild, restless tossing upon my Allow, until nature was completely ex lausted, I fell asleep. It was many hours before I awoke;, and when I did so, I found a little note uudor my door, which I took up, feeling, with an agonizing pang, that my struggle was to bo renewed. I sat down by the cool window aud read it, and thanked God. — It said this: “My Darling When you read this, I shall bo fax away. I have fought, 1 believe,lay final bat tle lam couciuered at last. May God forgive me the temptation I have placed before you, for the suffering I have caused you. I saw last night how you loved me. I know that, should I Insist, you would go with me to death. 1 thank you for It with Infinite tenderness and devotion; but be cause yon do so love me,l leave younowforover. God has saved mo from myself. My guilt lagreat enough already. Youshall never live to curso mo. In this world wo shall never meet again, but I believe that In eternity you will bo mine, h orglvo me—forgive mo, I Implore you and love mo as I love you forever. 11 m.tINGTON,' ’ Oh, how I loved him then—how infi nitely more than ever before—and how I wept in humble, grateful tenderness over the triumph of his noble soul. X feltthat lie was right—l should have yielded at Inst, and lie had saved mo from myself.— How fervently I blessed him, language can never tell. Many years went by. I made me a home there, near the great waters X, so loved; and there, ns the revolving sea sons went by, I grew calm and patient with my grief. Time touched my aching heart with his soft, healing fingers, and the wild bitterness of my first great suf ferings passed away. X learned new les sons in life. I began to feel Unit happi ness was not all in this world to bo sought, and that by helping and healing tliu woes of others my own might bo abated. And when the first flush of my youth had passed, and the wild fever in my blood had somewhat cooled,! grew quiet ly and gently happy—not with the wild exultation and abandonment of youth, butwith the tender softness of another era in life—the era when we begin to say with a smile that we are no longer young. There is a little touch of sadness which comes with this thought to every heart; but to a woman alone in life, with none to love, it is peculiarly painful. I had never heard a word of Mr. Remington. The only thing which told me that lie was not dead was a little copy of verses from our favorite poet, which, about a year after our parting, had come to me, written in hla hand, thus : “ When life gropes Feebly for the path where foil- Light last on tho ovening-slopoa, One friend In that path shall bo To secure thy steps from wrong; Ouo to count night day for thee, Patient through the watches long— Serving most with none to see.” But at length, one bright midsummer-, morning, aa I stood upon the very bridge where we had parted, gazing with loving eyes upon the familiar scene, a hand was suddenly laid upon my shoulder, and a voice, low and thrilling as of old, said : • Ada, my darling, X am by your aide once more. It was in tho blackness of midnight that we parted here-now, in ,1110 flush of dawn, we meet again. And Ada, darling, wo will part no more in life. I am free at last to ask you to stay with me forever. God was very merciful to ua in that trying time, and has brought us, up out of the deep waters and led us into his green pastures once more!’ Ail this in broken, trembling senten ces, with a voice broken by deep emotion; and the wild rapids seem to eateh up the low words, and shout, and proclaim, and echo them all over their foamy expanse— 'Outof tho deep waters into the green pastures! 1 Lrrx'J/E Tiiinos.— Great virtuesare rare: tho occasions for them aro very rare, hud when they do occur, wo aro not prepaud for them; wo are excited by the grandeur of tho sacrifice; we aro supported either by the splendor of the deed In the eyes of the world, or by the •self-complacency that we experience from the perlorma: ce of an uncommon action. Little things are unforeseen; they return every mo ment ; they come in contact with our haughtiness, our readiness to take of fence: they contradict our Inclinations perpetually. It is, however, only by fi delity in little things that a true and con stant love to God can be distinguished from a passing fervor of spirit. Loafed—As aspeclmenof the utility of logic we give Hie following: A sharp student was called up by '. worthy professor of a celebrated cole-ee and asked tho question : ‘ Can a man see without eyes * Yes sir,’ was tho prompt answer. 1 How, sir, 1 cried the amazed profes.-or, 1 can a man see without eyes ? Pray, -ur, how do you make that out?’ ‘ He can see with one sir,' replied the ready wltted youth ; and the whole class shouted with delight at his triumph over metaphysics. VOL. 54.—N0. 18. TRICKS OF A. jrCGOIiBR. 'i'he far-famed Robert Hellercauuot bo satisfied with his legitimate triumph bo f6reau audience, but occasionally docs a neat thing for his own amusement, veiy much to the surprise of those who hap pen to bo present. On Saturday last while passing an itinerant vend©** .or cheap provisions, Mr. Heller suddenly paused and inquired: “How do you sell eggs, Auntie. “De m-eggs,” was the response ; tioy am a pickoyune apiece—fresh too, last one of 'om; biled *ooi myself, and know doy’s fust rate.” . , . . “ Well, I'll try 'em,” said the magician, as ho laid down a bit of fractional cur rency. *“ Hove you pepper and salt I “Yes, sir, dere dey said the sable saleswoman, watching her customer with inteso interest. Leisurely drawing outa neat little pen knife, Mr. Heller proceeded very quietly to cut the egg exactly in half when sud denly a bright, new twenty-five'., cent piece was discovered lying imbedded in the yolk, apparently as bright as .when it came from the mint. Very coolly the great magician transferred the coin to is vest pocket, ami taking up another egg, inquired: . , “ And how much do you ask for .this “ Do Lord bress my soul I Dot egg ! Do fact am, boss, dis egg is worth a dime, sbuar.” “ All right,” was the response; hero s the dime. Now give me the .egg.” Separating it with an exact precision that tlie colored lady watched eagerly, a quarter eagle was most carefully picked out of the centre of. the egg, and placed in the vest pocket of the operator its be fore. The old woman was thunderstruck, as well she might have been, and her customer had to ask her price for the third egg two or three times before ho could obtain a reply. , “ Dai's no use talkin’, ranrs’r,” said the bewildered old darkey. * I can’t let you hah dat ore egg, nohow, for less dan a quarter. I declare to de Lord I can’t;” “Very good,” said Heller,.whoso im purturaame features wore ns solemn as an undertaker, “there is your quarter and hero is the egg. Ail right. , As ho opened the last egg, a brace of five dollar gold pieces wore discovered, snugly deposited in the very heart of the yolk, and jlnglingthein merrily together in his little palm, .the savant coolly re marked : ,- “Very good eggs, Indeed. I rather like them; and while I Am about it. I believe I will buy a dozen. What is the price?” “I say price! screamed the amazed daughter of ham. “ You couldn’ buy demeggs, mars’ r, for all do money yon’s got. No 1 dat you couldn’t. I’se gwine to take dem eggs all home, I is, and dat money in dem eggs all'longs tome. It does dat. Couldn’t sell no more of dem eggs, no how.”. ■ Amid the roar of the spectators, the be nighted African started to her domicil to “ smash dem eggs,” but with what suc cess wo are unable to relate. The Wonders or Ancient Home. — Modern writers, taking Loudon and Paris for their measures of material civ-, lllzatlon, seem unwilling to admit that Romo could have reached such a pitch of glory, and wealth, and power.- To him who stands within tho narrow limits of the Forum, as it now appeals, it seems in credible that it could have been the centre of a much larger city than'Europe can now boastof. Grave historians are loth to compromise their dignity and charac ter for truth by admitting statements which seem, to men of limited views, to bo fabulous, and which transcend mod ern experience. But wo should remem ber that most of tho monuments pf an cient Romo have entirely disappeared.— Nothing remains of the Palace of tho Cicsars, whioli nearly covered the Pala tine Hill; little of the fora which connec ted together, covered a space twice as largo us that inclosed by tho palaces of the Louvro and Tuileries with all their galleries and courts; almost nothing of tho glories of tho Capitolino Hill; and little comparatively of those Thermo; which were a mile in circuit. But what does remain attests an unparalleled grandeur —the broken pillars ot tho Fo rum ; the lofty columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius;' the Pantheon, lifting its spacious dome two hundred feet in the air; the more vestibule of tho baths of Agrippa; the triumphal arches of Titus and Trajan and Constantine ; tho bridges which span the Tiber; tho aqueducts which cross tho Campagna; tho Cloaca Maxima, which drained tho marshes and lakes of tho infant city; but above all, tho Colisseum. What glory and shame are associated with that single edifice ! That alone, if nothing else re mained of pagan antiquity, would indi cate a grandeur and a folly such as can not now be seen on earth. It reveals a wonderful skill in masonry, and great architectural strength; it shows the wealth and resources of rulers who must have had tho treasures of the world at their command ; it indicates an euornfious population, since it would seat all tho male adults of the City of New York ; it shows tho restless passions of tho people for excitement, and tho necessity on tho part of yielding to this taste. What leis ure anil indolence marked a city which could afford to give up so- much time to the demoralized sports! What facilities, for transportation wore afforded, when so many wild beasts could be brought to tho capital from tho central parts of Afri ca without calling out unusual comment 1 How imperlousa populace thatcompeilod the government to provide such expen sive pleasures ! —Hours at Home. Self Sacrifice. When the plague raged at Marseilles, and all the city was panic-stricken, the physicians, assembled' at the Hotel do villo to hold a consultation. After a long deliberation they decided unani mously that the malady had a peculiar and mysterious character, which a post mortem examination might throw light upon ; but the operation was held as an impossible one, seeing the .operator must inevitably fall a victim in a few hours.— A dead pause followed this fearful decla ration, when suddenly a surgeon named Guyou, in the prime of life, and of groat celebrity in his profession, rose and said firmly, “Be it so, I will give myself for the safety of my beloved country'. By to morrow morn I will dissect a corpse, and write down what I observe.” He went away, calmly made his will, confessed, and received the sacrament. Ho then shut himself up with a man who had died with the plague, taking with him au ink stand, paper, and a little crucifix. Full of enthusiasm, ho had never felt more Arm or collected; kneeling before the corpse ho wrote; " I gaze without hor ror, even with joy I trust, by finding the secret cause of this terrible , disease to show the way to some salutary remedy : and so will God bless my sacrifice and make It useful.” He began—he finished the operation, and recorded in detail bis surgical observations. He thou threw the papers into a vase of vinegar, sought the lazaretto, and died in twelve hours. “Died,” wosay? Nay, helived. What life so real as that which casts itself Into future generations to bo a lasting benefit to men 'I What better illustration of the Chief Shepherd’s words, “ Ho that losetb his life for my sake shall find it?” Ouu Wilkeabarrc friend, Walker, wont tn a dutch tailor and had hia measure ta ken for a pair of pantaloons. He gave dii eel lons In have theiu made large and jult. Walker is a heavy man, and likes his clothes loose, and when he camo to try on the new unmentionables found that they stuck tight to ilia legs, whereat he thus remonstrated : “ I told you to make these pants full." After some ob- expressions of a profane na ture the tailor ended the controversy by declaring, I dink deso pants Is full enough i If dey was any fuller dey would sphlit ,” Rates to Advertisements TnUbo lnaertcd at Ten uem, per lino for the first Insertion, and five ccuP per lino for each subsequent Insertion. Quar terly, half-yearly, and yearly advertisement* In sorted at a liberal reduction on the. above rates Advertisements should bo accompanied by the Casu. When sent without any length of time specified for publication, they will bo continued until ordered ont and charged accordingly. JOB PRINTING. Cards, Handbitls, CmctmAEfl, and every ot h cr description ol Job and Cabd Printing execn .teder the neatest stylo, at low prices. OUIIS AND ENDS. Extraordinary Confession of Speaker CoefaLx.— lt was stated that Mr. Colfax, In a recent'speech, threaten ed President-Johnson; witil banging.— This was Indignantly denied by Ins friends; but we now flnd, by a full report of his speech, published on his own au thority, which is equivalent to a confes sion, that what he did say on the subject was’quite .as bad If not worse, than ho was originally charged with. The Speak er oft he House of Representatives threat ening in a public speech to bang the Chief Magistrate of the United States like a common malefactor, is ono of the most disgraceful exhibition i of partisan ship that even rampant Radicalism has yet made. It was generally supposed that the Speaker of the House should bo a gentleman. All the traditions of Con gress and the respectability of a Consti tution which created the office presuppose that fact; but that the Speaker should threaten the Chief Magistrate with the ignominious death of a felon only shows to what a terrible state of demoralization the leading politicians of the Republican party have sunk. It is butln accordance with the instincts of gentlemanly society that a nmu using such language would at once forfeit his status and be expelled from all association with gentlemen.— Wo can only say that Mr. Colfax, by his own confession, has disgraced hfs charac ter and has entitled hims6lf to a denial of all tho courtesies of respectable society henceforth. — JSF. YJ Herald. ' On Musquitoes.— Josh Billings thus expresses himself on tho musquitoes Wo are told there wan’t anything made in vain; this is sometimes so, but I have thought tho time spent in manufakturiug musketozo more than wasted, if tho mus kotoze don’t. How they were put to gether I never could tell ; and there is one commercial peculiarity about tho musketeer trade—thp supply' always ex ceeds the demand, arid yet the produc tion is not diminished. I kan’t under stand this, nohow. They am born of . poor but industrious parents,' and arc brought up with great care under the au spices of some of our beat families. They have also consummate courage. I have known a single musketeer to file a man and his wife all nlte lotig and draw the first blood. It is very easy to kill mus kotozo when you coni But, in striking them, you are very apt to hit the exact place where they recently was. They are cheerful little rascals, singing as they toil. The Richest Man in the World.— Boron Solomon Rothschild recently sent an order to 3-T, Lane & Co., of New York for two hundred bottles of their celebrated Indian Liniment. A better certificate than this of the .value of tho remedy In question, could not be procur ed, and the medicine Itself has no equal in cases of Rheumatism, Neuralgia, Sprains, Bruses, Cholera, etc., The neat form in which it is put up renders it ea sy of transportation, and every traveler should have a bottle for a constant com panion. It is advertised in another col umn, and wo invito our readers special attention to it. Mount Blanc.—A correspondent of tho London Timas writes from phamu riix under date of July 4th: “ After last year’s mishaps on Mount Blanc your readers might like to know that the great ascent this year has been sucoessfully'ao complished by two Englishmen. They slept as usual at tho Mulets, and the guns have at this moment fired to announce their safety on the summit. Tho string of six black figures against the pure snow has heen an object of intense in terest all tho morning. The sky is cloudless, and nothing could be more propitious than the weather for the ascent." Waocs went to tho depot of one of our railways tho other evening, and finding the beat ear full, said in a loud tone: 1 This car isn’t going I’ Of course these words caused a general stampede, and Wages took the best seat. The cars soon moved off. In tho midst of the Indignation, Waggs was question ed • ' You said this car wasn’t going.' 1 Well, it wasn’t thou; it is now I’ The ‘ sold’ laughed a little, but Waggs came near getting a good thrashing. A Schoolmaster in a neighboring town, while on his morning walk, passed by the door of a neighbor, who was exca vating a log fora pig trough. Why,’ said the schoolmaster, ■’Mr. h. have you not furniture enough yet?’ ‘ Yes,'said the man, ‘enough for my own family, but I expect to board the schoolmaster this winter, and am mak ing preparations.” In a school recently. a teacher took oc casion to relate an anecdote of the little girl who tried to ‘overcome evil with good.’ by giving a new Testament to a boy who had ill-treated hci* The story was appreciated, for a few minutes after wards one boy struck another and being asked the reason, said he was “ trying to get a Testament.” This was a practical bearing altogether unexpected. An irascible old gentleman was taken with sneezing in the cars lately. After sneezing in the most spasmodic manner eight times, he arrested it for a moment, and extricating his handkerchief, thus addressed his nasal organ Indignantly saying, ‘ Oh, go on, go on—you’ll blow your infernal brains out presently.’ A Little boy, some six years old, was using his slate and pencil on a Sunday, when his father, who was a minister, en tered and said; ‘ My son, X prefer that you should not use your .slate on the Lord’s day.’ ‘ I’m drawln’ meetin' houses, father,’ was the prompt reply. Teacher—' Tommy, what does h-a-l-r spell?’ , , Apt Pdpil— ‘ Dunno, sir,’: Teacher—’ Why, you numskull, what have you got on your head!’ Apt Phpil— ‘l dunno, sir, but 1 think it bees a flea.’ Jonathan presented himself and his intended to the minister for the purpose of being married. Being questioned If they had been published, 1 On, I guess so for I told it to Uncle Ben, and he told it to his wife more’n a week ago.’ ‘ Mother, can’t I go and have my pho tograph taken ?’ ..... ' No, I guess it isn’t worth while.’ ‘ Well then you might let me go and have a tooth pulled. I never go any where, and have no pleasure.’ An irreverent rascal publishes the fol lowing atrocious conundrum : What is tho difference between a maiden of six teen and a maiden'of sixty? One is careless and happy, and Vie other hairless and c appy. 1 1 wonder where those clouds are go ing?’ sighed Flora, pensively,, as she pointed with delicate linger to the heavy masses that floated In the sky. • I think they are going to thunder!’ said her brother. What Is the difference between a bar ber and a mother ? One has razors to shave and the other has shavers to raise. , Josh Bilmnob correctly remarks • Success in life la very apt tew make us forget the time when we wasn’t much.— It is just so with tho frog on the jump ; he can’t remember when he was tadpole —but other folks can.’ A Jebseyman gathering mushrooms was told they were poisonous. Thank you,’ he replied, •I am not going to cat them myself—l sell them at the hotel.’ • Coebection.—lnstead of ‘people all very lousy,’in a letter from Crystal Park, the other day, read * people all very busy. ’ ’ An Irish absentee is said ■ to have sen t this comforting message to his steward : 1 Tell the tenants that no threats to shoot you will terrify me.’ A Wife with a capital isn’t always a capital wife,
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