®|)C American Volunteer. I.tTItbISIIED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BRATTON- te KENNEDY. OfriCßJOßin MABKET «QI'AHE. TKBMfl:— Two Dollars per year U paid strictly m advance; Two Dollars and Filly Cents If paid within three months; after which Three Dollars will be charged* These terms will be rigidly ad hered to In every Instance. No subscription dis continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at ho option of the Editor. darns. TAMES A. DUNBAR, Attorney at J Law, Carlisle, Penna. 6fllco a few doors West of Hannon’s Hotel. Dec. 1.1 805, __ JOHN LEE, Attorney at Law, • I North Hanover Street, Carlisle, Pa.» h oh. 13, XB(iu-Jy. TTT KENNEDY Attorney at Law, W Carlisle Pouna. Office same os that pi Urn “American ■Volunteer,” South side of the 1 ah* Uo Square. Dec. 1, 188 MC. HERMAN, Attorney at Law. , Office In Rheom's Hall Building, Intho rear of the Court House, next door to the Her aid” Office. Carlisle, Penna. Deo. 1,1605. T7\ E. BELTZHOOVER, attorney jj . and Counselor at Law, Carlisle, Penna. Office on South Hanover street, opposite Dents s Stove. By special arrangement with the I nlent Office, attends to securing Patent Rights. Dec. 1.1805. J. M. WEAKLEY. , W. **. SADLEII. KLEY & BADLER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, NO. IQ SOUTH HANOVER ST. Carlisle, Pkns’a. Doe. iff, ISO 7 'roHN 11. MILLER. Attorney at pJ Law. Office In Uamiotvs Bulldlug r 'opposlte liie Court House, Carlisle, Pa. Nov. U, ISO". A PAM KELLER, Attorney at J\_ Law, Carlisle. OUlco with W. M. Penrose, Esq.. Uheom's Hall. • October 3,lBo7—dm* JJNITED STATES CLAIM AND REAL ESTATE AGENCY! WM. B. BUTLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, omco In 2d Story of InholTs Building, No. 3 South Hanover Street, Carlisle, Cumberland county, * Pensions, Bounties, Bade Pay, Ac., promptly by mull, will receive Immediate at pu l rtlouinr attention gluon to the soiling or rent ing of Real Estate, In town or country. In nil let ters of Inanity, please enclose postage stamp. July if, 1807— tf nHAS. E. MAGLAUGHLIN, Attob- Vi nß y at Law. Office In Building formerly occupied by Volunteer, a few doors South of Xian nun's Hotel. Dee. 1, 1805. f GUN. C. GRAHAM, Attorney at • I Law. Office formerly occupied by Judge ifraham, South Hanover street, Carlisle, Ponna. Doc. 1, 1805—ly. DU. GEORGE S. SEARIGHT, Pen •nsr. From the Baltimore CoUcne oj Denim muvew. Office at the residence of bis mother, East Louthor Street, three doors below Bedford. Carlisle, Ponna. Dec. 1, 1805. DR. J. B. BIXLEB offers bis profes sloual services to the citizens of Carlisle and ' OinctTon Main street, opposite tticjnll, In the room lately occupied by L. 'iodd, Esq. April 11,1807— ly g>to\)csi, gTintoatc, &c. 'GONIGAI, MANUFACTimEtt AND DEALER IN STOVKB TIN AND BH,kki-IHON \VAUIi«, South Jlanovcr St., AtyoiniugJiluir it Son's Grocery, CARLISLE, PA. TUo subscriber thankful for post favors, re spectfully Informs his friends and the public, that ho liua now on hand a largo supply of tlio latest and best improved C°°K <""> rA]tLoß SToyzs HEATERS and RAA UEB. In the Stove Department wo cioslro to ciui par ticular attention to tho following, comprising as they do, tho very Pest Cook and Potior Biov e» now In use • NIM HOD, QUAKER CITY. EXCELSIOR, PENN, NOBLE COOK, N SUS(iUJiILANNA and IRONSIDES. To speak at lenclb of the ■aiirorontßloyes would occupy too much space, but wo deem it necessa ry to*call the uttcutlou of the public to tho EMPIRE GAS BURNER* This truly wonderful Parlor and Office Stove la so constructed that tho cheapest quality of coal (Llmcburnor’s), can bo usea wlLb bucce.ss.— It barns continuously and the fire is easily itiu dled. It is capable of heating one room below and two rooms above. There Is uo dust and no escape of gas, and an actual saving of coal, which In two or three seasons will pay for the stove. The Empire has many valuable qualities which can only bo fully appreciated by seeing It In op eration: Wo clalmWt It is far superior to any other Stove now In use, and wo feel satlslled that wo can convince all who will favor us with an examination of the Stovo at our shop ol tills part. Wo have on hand a full assortment of TINWARE. Repairing promptly attended to. Roofing done at the shortest notice. Spouting will bo put up on reasonable terras and with despatch. Please give us a call at No. S 3, South Uanover Slruot, adjoining £SSm'GONIGAL. Sept. 19,1867—Cm mHE CARLISLE COOK STOVE, JL manufactured at F. GARDNER &, Co’s. Foundry and Machine Shop, Carlisle, can fbe beat This Is the testimony of scores of families In Cum borland. Perry and Adams Counties, who are now using them. Call and see them. CO UN S HELLERS, running cither by power or by hand—constantly on haud and for sale at P. GARDNER Foundry and Machine Shop, East Mum Street. STEAM BOILER MAKING. Wo arc prepared to make Steam Boilers of all si zes and kinds .promptly and on the best loruos.-- Also. SMOKE STACKS and all articles In that line. REPAIRING OF BOILERS and ENGINES promptly attended to In the best manner at P. GARDNER & CO’S. Foundry and Machine Shop, Carlisle, Pa. Feb. 7,1507. Miller & bowers, SUCCESSORS TO LEWIS F. LYNB. North Hanover Street, Carlisle, J*a Dealers in American, English and German HARDWARE, Cutlery, Saddlery, Coach Trimmings, Shoe Findings, Morocco and Lining Skins, IdLBtB, Boot Trees and Shoemaker Tools of every description. Solid and Brass Box Vices, Bellows, Files, Rasps, Horse Shoes, Horse Shoo Nails. Bar and Rolled Iron of all sizes, HAMES AND TRACES. Carriage Springs, Axles, Spokes, Fellows, Hubs, &c., <kc. Saws of every variety, Carpenters’ Tools and Building Material, Table and Pocket Cutlery, Plated Forks and Spoons, with an extensive as sortment of Hardware of all kinds and of the best manufacture, which will bo sold wholesale or re tail at the lowest prices. Wo are making great improvements in our already heavy stock ol goods, and invito all persons in want of Hard ware of every description to give us a call and we are confident you will bo well paid for your trou ble. . Hoping that by strict attention to business and a disposition to please ail we will bo able to maintain tho reputation of the old stand. MILLER d: BOWERS. Dec. 1,1865. piPEB’S BOOK AND FANCY STORE, AND GENERAL NEWS DEPOT, 33 WEST MAIN STREET, CARLISLE, PA. A fine assortment of Goods on hand, such oh Writing Desks. Port Folios, Ladies Companions, Wort Boxes, Satchels, Ladles’ Purses. Pocket Bodies,, Segar Coses, Card Case&v Gold Pens, Pen Knives, Ac., itC< A LARGE SUPPLY OF FAMILY BIBLES and PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS AT REDUCED PRICES. BIAEXES POE 1867. Subscriptions received for all Magazines, Fash ion Books, papers, &c., at publishers prices. Yon save postage and always sure of receiving your Magazines by subscribing at Piper’s. Special attention is paid to keeping always on band a supply of BCBOOJj BOOKS, for town and country schools. Books and Music ordered -when desired, May aSIMT-'W. Ilr Mlmktx BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. iSSlchtcal. HOOFLAMD'S GERMAN BITTERS, AND Hoofland’s German Tonic. Prepared by Dr. C. M. Jackson, PHILADELPHIA, PA. The Great Remedies for all Diseases LIVER, STOMACH, OR DIGESTIVE ORGANS. Hoofland’s German Bitters 1b composed of tho pure Juices (or, ns they run medici nally termed, tx r===a 'TiTT il irac,i ) of Roots, H orb b and narks, ||flj i|Hf~ making a prepara tion, highly conceit IBB* jffl tmicd, nnd entirely freej'rom Alcoholic Bliw fillla admixture of any HOOFLANFS GERMAN TONIC, Is a combination of all the Ingredients of tbo BUtcrs, with the purest quality of Santa Crut Jium, Omngr, etc,, making ono of tho most pleasant and agreeable remedies ever offered to the public. Those preferring a Medicine free from Alcoholic ad mixture, will xuo Eoofland’s German. Bitters, In caeca of nervous depression, when some alcoholU dim ulus is necessary, HOOFLANFS GERMAN TONIO should be used. The Bitters or tho Tonic nrc both equally good, and contain tho same medicinal virtues. Tho stomach, from a variety of causes, such as Indi* gestion, Dyspepsia, Nervous Debility, etc., U very apt -to Atff have its functions dorauged. The result yWL JJCT of which Is, that tbo patient suffer* from eovoral or moro of the following dtecißCS: Constipation. Flatulence, Inward Files* Fulness or Blood to the Head, Acidity of the Stomach, Nausea, - Heart burn, Disgust for Pood, Fulness or Weight in the Stomach, Sour Eructations, Sink ing or Fluttering at tho Pit of- the Stomach, Swimming- of tho Hoad, Hurried or Difficult Breathing:, Fluttering at the Heart, Choking or Suffocating Sensations when in a XTylnce Posture, Dimness of Vision, Dots or Webs before .the Sight, Dull Fain in the Head, Defi ciency of Perspiration, Yel lowness of the Skin and Byes,. - - Paln in the Bide, /grim Back,Cheat, iambs, eta, (OIJO 8 udd e n Plashes of Heat, Burning in the Flesh, Constant Imaginings of Evil, and Great Depression of Spirits. These remedies will effectually euro Liver Complaint, Jaundice, Dyspepsia, Chronic or Nervous Debility- Chronic DUurmca, Disease of the Kidneys, and all Diseases arising from a Disordered Liver, Stomach, or Intestines. DEBILITY, Resulting from any Cause whatever; PROSTRATION OF THE SYSTEM, induced by Severe Labor, Hard ships, Exposure, Fevers, eto. Thoro Is no medicine extant equal to thcao rcmcdlea In such casea. A tone nnd vigor is Imparted to the whole System, tho Appetite la Strength* ened, food is cploycd. tho stomach digests promptly, thoblood IKpi is purlflcd, tho com plexion become* sound and healthy, the yellow tinge I# eradicated from the eyes, a bloom 1b given to tho cheeks, and tbo weak and nervous In valid becomes a strong and healthy being. Persons Advanced in I4fe t Ana feeling (be band of time weighing heavily upon them, with *ll Its attendant 111% will find In the use o t this BITTERS, or the TONIO, on elixir that will instil new life Into their veins, restore In a measure the energy and ardor of more youthful days, holld op tholr shrunken forms, and give health and happiness to their remaining years. HOTICE. It Is a well-established fact that fully one-half of tho female portion of our population are sel dom In tbo enjoyment tBP* of good health; or. to use their own ox la r» prenslon, M never feci welt.** They are lon Ewkw guid, devoid of all energy, extremely nervous, and have no appetite. To this doss of persons the BITTERS, or the TONIC, is especially recommended. WEAK AMD DELICATE CHILDREN Are made strong by tho use of cither of these remedies. They will euro every cose of MARASMUS, without fall. . Thousand* of certificate* have accumulated In the hand* of tbo proprietor, hut space will allow of the publication of out a few. Those, It will bo observed, are men of note and of such Blooding that they mtut he bollogod. TESTXMOITCAIiS. Hon. Geo. W. Woodward. Chif Justice tffhe Supreme Court of Pa., writer Philadelphia, March 18,1887. “Ifind‘Hoofland’s «a-» German Bitter*’ 1* * good tonic, useful /f&L. In diseases of the digestive organs, and of great benefit in cases of debility, and OH want of nervou* ac tion in the system. Tours truly, GEO. W. WOODWARD.” Eon. James Thompson. fudge of Oa Supreme Court of i’enniylronfo. Philadelphia, April 28,1868. “ I consider ‘Hoofland’s German Bitter* 1 * valuable medieineln cose of attack* of Indlgestionor Dyspepsia. X can certify this from my experience of it. Tours, with respect, JAMES THOMPSON.” Prom Rev. Joseph H. Kennard, D. D„ Patter of Bit Tenlh EaplUt Church, Philadelphia. Dr, Jackson— Dear Sir; I have been frequently re quested to connect ray name with recommendation* of different kinds of medicines, but regarding tho prac tice as out of my ap s=j propriato_ sphere, I have In all cusp* do cllncd; hot with a {SSSaSSGp' in S™ famTy“c( .l,» usefulness of Dr. Hoofland’a German Bitters, 1 depart for once from my usual coarse, to express my full conviction that, for pensral debility of w« system, and especially for Liver Complaint, it is o safe and eoluaWs preparation. In some cases it may fall; hut usually, I doubt not. It will bo very beneficial to those who aunsr from the above causes. Tours, very respectfully, J. H. KENNARD, Eighth, below. Coates Bt* . From Hot. E. D. Pendall, Asriifcmt Editor Christian Chronicle, Philadelphia, I have derived decided benefit from the use of Hoof land’* German Bitters, and feci It xny privilege to re commend them as * most valuabletonlc. to all who are *uflbrioa from general debility or from diseases arising from derangement of tho liver. Toon truly, E. D. FEND ALL, CAUTION. Hoofland’a Germ an Remedies are counterfeited. Be* that the signature of Is on the wrapper bottle * Another* are coun JfIJV ***.*• __ . . _ Principal Office SVbw and Manufactory at the German Medicine Store, No. 631A80H Street, Phlladclnhla. OHABZiEB K. SVANB, German DroguUvProp’rietor, Formerly C. M. Jiqksok 4c Go. For salo by &U Druggist* and Dealer* in Medicines. PRICES. Hboßand’s German Bitters, per bottle ...U 00 u u « half d0zen......... 5 00 Boofland’s German Tonic, pul up In quart bottles, 1 60 pot bottle, or a half dorenfor...... ••••••• 7 W 93T Do not forget to examine well the article you buy» in order to get tho genuine. Jan. 0, 1868.-ly [For the American Volunteer, AWAKE! Awake I Columbia’s sons, awake! Ere tyrant bauds have sealed your doom Awake f and speak for Liberty, Eie tyrant hands prepare her tomb. Shall Freedom’s shrine bo broken down By hemp-deserving (loyal 7) bands? Shall white fanatics rule the South, And black ones occupy the land ? Shall taxes gall and weigh us down, And wo submit like “ quarry slaves” To those who rule to-day 7—and point To Peace and Freedom’s yawning graves. Which willy© heed, Columbia's son*l The tyrant’s threat—the widow’s moan? Usurper’s smile—the nation’s cursa? The darkey’s grin—lho orphan’s groan 7 The noble’s suit—the spectre want? The scepter’s sway—or reason’s pow’r? Will ye stand up for Liberty, Or at tbo feet of tyrants cow’r? |lltedlmt£ou,£. THE HERMIT'S YEAR. ‘There is your letter, Edith, —a very good letter; just such a letter as a young gentleman very much in love might be expected to write. Fine phrases cost very little to young men of average intellect; and X must say for our friend Oharlie Courtland, that his have the ring of true metal about them. It’s something to be able to believe what a man says nowa days.' Baying Which, Mr. Maitland fold ed with great precision tho letter lie had been reading, and returned it to his daughter. ‘And what am I to say to him Ui re ply, papa ?' ‘Say to him, my dear? Why, what would you say to anybody who proposed to share five and three-pence a day with you for life?' ‘ But it's not live and three-pence/ said Edith, blushing, but boldly. * Then it was until very lately; and it can’t be much more now. Say whatyou like to him; and as he’s a gentleman in every sense of tho word, refuse him like a lady. That's what you meant to do, 1 suppose V But instead of a ready answer, Edith Maitland hung her head ; and her father knew, though ho chose to assume ignorance, that that was not at ail Edith Maitland’s inclination, whatever her in tention might have been. Presently the old gentleman looked at her again, and nothing certainly ever af fected Mr. Maitland more than a dolor ous expression on his daughter's counte nance. He had very little sympathy, not much feeling, not an atom of sentiment; but he had a great idea of the fitness of things: .and Edith’s face is the very worst background to a gloomy picture that can well be conceived. A diamond looks well upon a velvet ground; and rude contrasts, where the object to bo ex hibited requires to be- strikingly set off, are ail very well. But where it is not so, —•and sorrow is seldom tbo better for be- ing displayed, —the less violent tho con trast the better. Charming blue eyes, a fine red and white complexion, golden hair, glistening little teeth between coral lips, and an amazing amountof dimples, go badly with tears or frowns, and find no room among them for melancholy.-r- He was sorry to see that her inclination did not, as usual go with her duty. ‘ C'harles Courtlaud is a person for whom I have the greatest regard, my dear child; lie’s a very excellent son, I believe, and soldier, but not equally well calculated for a son-in-law. Besides, he’s a bad memory, Edith.’ * How so, papa ?’ ‘He has forgotten a conversation we had on this subject.’ ‘That’s hardly possible, I should think,’ said Edith Maitland, not cheer fully. ‘Then he either thinks that I am given to change my opinion, or that I do not clearly express my real one. Now that’s not so my dear child.’ ‘I never knew you to do tho one, nor fail to do tlie otlier.' And the absurd necessity of tbo confession gave a little tinge of tbo ridiculous to so unusual an assent. ‘ But X don’t understand you.' ‘ You do me no more than justice, and I’ll explain. About a fortnight back conversation turned between Charles Courtland ami myself into a channel of this kind. Mind my dear, it was not lit erally personal as regards you and him self; but I bad an idea that it might be come so. Do you know what 1 told him? I told him I valued your happiness (wo put it hypothetically, you know, for de cency’s sake) too highly to let you marry any one without a moderate income, and a certain sum of money at command.' ‘Did you indeed say that, papa?' in quired Edith, reddening, half withahame and half with anger. 1 Indeed I did, my dear; and what's more I meant It.’ And here old Mr. Maitland refreshed himself witii a good pinch of snuff. ' But what need to proclaim anything of the sort to—to—a young man, who—’ 1 What need, indeed, seeing he is iuca pableot understanding a hint so delicate ly conveyed. Why, it was to save you the inconvenience of having to answer some such a letter os this. And, Edith, in order to avoid mistakes, I put the fig ure at what I considered your lowest val ue; and which, I’m sorry to say,—well! my dear, don’t look so reproachfully at mo, for lam sorry to say,—is far beyond our Charley's moslsangulneexpeotaUous. Ptold him that. Independently of aprofes sion, a young Jady situated—well, X said situated—as you are could never marry, with my consent, under ten thousand thousand pounds!’ repeated Edith, with her eyes open, and iu which a tear, partly sorrowful, partly irascible, began to appear. This certainly was au estimate of herself whleh was beyond the ability of her friend Charley, at all events for some years to come. Then the old Scotchman continued. 1. y oa _x told you ten thousand. Eow, my dear, don't bo unreasonable, but listen to me.' And as she was by nature obedi ent! instead of leaving the room for a private cry,—which is the correct thing to do before a hard-hearted father,—she sat down in the chair which she had lately quitted. ..... 1 Certainly, papa, if you wish it.’ 1 Well, I do, just to make things pleas ant. I’ve just twenty minutes before I go into the city and I’ll tell you all about it. I’m sure yoa’U see the matter with my eyes before that time.’ ‘Perhaps X may, papa.’ And Edith had quite resolved that it as little became Mr. Maitland’s daughter to change her mind, as Mr. Maitland himself; but she did not say much about It. ‘ You’ve been brought up, my dear, in the enjoyment of considerable comfort.— You’ve a good house, a carriage, a maid, good society, occasional change, and as many bonnets as are good for you, to say nothing of a fair allowance of liberty and pocket money. You don’t go to the Queen's balls, you’ve not the private on- Crca to tha park, nor a diamond necklace, and you've only au occasional opera-box ; these last are luxuries,’ Edith assented : ‘ I know how happy I am at home, papa; and how kind and good you are to me*' • I was sure you would say so, my dear, and I believe you think it. Well, all these tilings cost money,—not a great deni, but money. There are n great many men come here, my love, who could af ford to give you this, and much more; but ns long as you prefer your old fath er’s company, and what you ve got, to any new speculation, I'm satisfied, and can’t grumble at au arrangement which secures me your company.’ • My dear papa, hqw can you talk so and sha got up and kissed him. ‘Becauseit Just represents the facts, m y dear. You know Glosaop had six CARLISLE, PA„ THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6. 1868 thousand a year, and bos since made forty thousand pounds in the Chalk and Dabblestone Company.' ‘ And has lately married his washer woman’s daughter.' 1 Well, my dear, that’s true ; but it was partly your fault. There was Col. Wig more, a large shareholder in the Grave send Oyster Propagation Society, with a ftnolanded estate of hla own—’ ‘ He was over fifty, papa; besides, aftei all, ho never really proposed.’ ‘ Because you never would let him.— However that was your business, not mine; there was Wormwood—’ ' Who abused all his acquaintances, and positively made one hate one’s fellow creatures with a bitterness incompatible with love for anybody. Surely, papa you won Id not compare Charloy Courtland with those men.’ * ‘Certainly not ray dear; they could have given you what you can't do with out, and he cannot.’ ‘ I did not think your views were mer cenary.’ ‘Mercenary! Courtland has his pay, ami two hundred a year. Ho told me so, He has expectations from his own father, at the old gentlemen’s death, which is apparently a long way off, and from your father (ho hinted as much) both before and after death, which event, I hope, is equaly distant with the other.’ Edith laughed In spite of herself. • ‘ Now you see yodr existence must de pend upon somebody’s death, at least what you have been accustomed to consider existence; and as to luxuries, well, they can’t be provided under a cou ple of funerals. You’ll have live thous* and pounds the day you marry, and all I have in the world the day I go out of it, whoever you marry, as long as ho is an honest man and ageutleman.’ The tears did find their way Into Edith’s eyes agahq in spite of herself. ‘ Charley Courtlanu is a gentleman, and an honest man ; but you see be can’t marry you, my dear, on five thousand pounds, though he certain ly shall, if you wish it, when he comes with another ten £o add to it,—and then I think it ought to be all settled upon yourself.’ So spoke Mr. Maitland,— a very odd sort of person to look at and talk, to, but quite an average sort of father after all,— not melodramatic, perhaps, but good enough for genteel comedy. What ho said he generally said in broad Scotch, which must bo.imagined. Ho was emi nently practical,—did say what be meant, and stuck to It. W. 11.8. In person ho wa« just the mail who would talk and act as ho did. Ho was aliort and wiry, with a thin sharp-featur ed face, light hair, now turning gray, short and wiry, too, and brushed up, so ns to represent the characteristics of a ter rier dog. He was strictly neat in dress, and rigid in the performance and exac tion of duty. He was fond of money for the sake of that respectability of position which it gave, but lie cared nothing for it beyond that point, knowing that the lofti est trees are the first to be struck by light ning, and that the highest towers fall with the heaviest crash- He was a mer chant of the city of London,—an honest one, A reputable man oh 'Change, one Who had saved something, and whose name made paper valuable. Ho had no passions—that was one secret of his suc cess. He had one inveterate abomina tion, —a race-course. Heaven knows why lie concentrated all his aversions upon this national institu tion. Had lie ever been forstalled with a Derby favorite, or had one which broke a blood-vessel immediately before start ing, had he been legged by a Welsher, or paid a trainer’s bill, or been made to ride in a racing saddle, or spent an evening with a fashionable lightweight, lie might have been forgiven lev his insane caprice. But none of these tilings had ever hap pened to him. No, it was one of these obsolete fancies which do crop up among old-fashioned people still. He had heard so much that was bad of it, such demo ralization among the little, sucli loss of dignity among the great, that he believed the Devil to he the first bookmaker, and Epsom to have been the scene of his earliest exploits. ' Now, my dear Edith, I’m sure wo un derstand each other,” said he, kissing her affectionately; “if you’ll order tile carriage at live o’clock, I’U come home early, and go for n drive with you into the How.” What I said about Edith Maitland, as regards her personal appearance, is, I suppose enough. One cannot he eternal ly desorbing pretty women ; pleasant as is tile amusement, and various as are their charms, there must ho some limita tion. I always have a heroine, and X al ways make them as good-looking as I can. Edith Maitland is no exception to the rule,—in fact, she’s the prettiest wo man that I know. It will he gratifying to tlie lovers of propriety anti literature, or to the admirers of the French dramat ists, the only true Unitarians, to know that I am not about to infringe upon classical rules to any great extent. The action of this little awy is comprised in a week. The day on which the above conversation took place between Edith Maitland and her father, was Monday, the twentieth of May last, the day immedi ately preceding the Epsom meeting of the current year. Loudon was quite full, just what always Is upon such occa sions. Not only were the habitues of town to be met with everywhere, hut lodgings were taken, empty houses were brushed up, chandeliers were uncovered, and valuable bits of ornamental china stowed away, while tlicstraugeis remain ed. Long’s and Limmor’s and hostel ries of good repute were filled with both arms of the service on leave, and legs a discretion , and every sign of the great national fete was to be met with between Charing Cross and the corner of Albert Gate, atone time or another of the day. It was about half past live o'clock in the afternoon when four or flvo respec table types of the young England school stood at the corner of the Bow, talking on the all-absorbing topic of the day.— 1 For it must be admitted, that wild as is 'the career of Beales, mid gieat as his reputation, not orlly ho, but even the chairman of the Tailors' Union, sink in to nothing on the eve of a race meeting. Why does the leader of the House of doiumoiiß submit to the postpouementof some great question, such as the lan guage of the lobby, or the claims of a rot ten borough, for an Olympic revel? Be cause he can’t help himself. He has ta keu the aeuse of the house, and the non sense has beaten him. ‘Fiat Derbia, ruatcoolum.' ‘Sad business this about the Bake, bore Cor hia owner,” says Tom Hatchett of tlie heavies, a sort of Broad Street sol dier whenever he could get away. ‘ I don't suppose his owner cares a bit about it; he's made himself safeoa Vau ban ” says Captain Snaffles, an authori ty on all such matters with his regiment, which is just now at Canterbury, with the exception of himself and a rather fast cornet, who has got his first leave since believe he’s broken down at all,’ joins in Speerwell, a lancer. • Nobody said he had,’ replied Snaffles, ‘only a bloodvessel. It won’t interfere with hia running. P ' s . a ,? e gram to say he walked round hia paddock and ate a quartern of oats as soon as ho got la, and then rolled in hia box, as com fortably as If nothing had happened.— How, do, Charley ?’ ‘Who told you that?’ says another, -a fresh arrival. ‘I believe they’ve shot him.’ m * * You go and lay against him at Tat torsall’s, ami you’ll find they’ll shoot you.’ 1 Well, where did you hear It?’ *1 knew it’s true; Boreas, the fellow that writes for the Thunderer, told me. ‘Then I’ll bo hanged if I believe a word of it. I dou’tsee why ho shouldn t win.’ ‘Why shouldn’t Hermit win?’ says Charley Courtland, who had arrived in the middle of the conference, and who never made a bet In his life. ‘ Hermit’s as good as dead; I heard it from the beat authority.’ 1 \Vho r B that?’ Inquired Charley, some what sceptical of these good authorities. ‘lt came .from a fellow who’s in the stable; a great friend of Captian M ‘ Are you sure of that?’ ‘Quite,’ says the other, who knew nothing about it beyond newspaper re port. ‘lf I was I’d go and back him.’ says Snaffles. 1 You’d just go one hundred to one against him. I’m sorry for Captain. Capital two-year old.’ Charley Courtland was not a betting man, but ho couldn’t help weighing tbo words of the all-wise 'Snaffles, and .the extraordinary odds which were being laid against him. ‘ Ten thousand to one hundred,’ said ho to lilmself several times. At that moment a very neat, un pretending carriage passed into the Row at a foot’s pace., * Charley, there's your friend, Miss Maitland.’ He looked round and just caught sight of that young lady as the carriage bocame.lost in the crowd. He had a letter in bis pocket, which made him supremely melancholy,—mel ancholy just to the verge of utter despair; for it told him a truth which ho know would bo religiously kept by the lady.— It was a very good letter, notwlthsand ing. It did not attempt to disguise from him that, if all things had been conve nient, ho would have been received, by both father and daughter with open arms. Edith made no great parade of af fection ; did’nt talk about suicide, or hint at mutual charcoal, or go in for a broken heart. She laid great stress on the ne cessity of obedience to her father, and said that, until the conditions ho had in sisted on were fulfilled, she had no hope of his yielding; without his permission she would not marry. She said a word or two on patience and on hope ;■ she did not say that she never would marry any body else, but she meant it at the time, and Charley Courtland guessed it. As ho walked away from the coterie of agreeable friends he had been talking to ho turned over her note in his breast pocket and its contents in his mind. ‘This cursed ten thousand pounds,’ thought he. ‘ How in the world am lev er to have ten thousand pounds until the governor dies? And I don't ■want him to die; he’s a very good fellow, u capital governor to me; besides, he’s on ly lifty-two, and us hard as nails. I must sell out, and goonlhcSloek Ex change. And what a rage the governor will bo in, to he sure. Huskies, perhaps I may'nt make it answer. T never was a great hand at tlgures. To ho sure, there's that fellow Dumblo began life when I. did without a shilling, and lives in Hol land Gale with a wife and three chil dren, and one of the best broughams hi London. Why can’t! do as Humble'." And Charley had got thus far in a brown study, when— 1 Halloo, old fellow, where the b—l are you coming to'." said I’eter Mayfair, a guardsman, gentleman, rider, heavy better, and rollicking bachelor, a great friend of Charley Courlland's and always ready' with advice, or anything but ready money, for ids friends. Heady money, X mean ; lor as to paper there was not a more liberal young man than Pe ter. 1 One would think you were in love, or had been backing the Hake at three to ° ni *But I hay’nt. I wish I had backed something likely to win!’ ‘Ah! 1 did’nl know that was your game, Charley. You’ve kept it very qui et. Yauban will win ; but if you’re only going for a pony or two, you’ll have to pay precious dear for It. You won’t get more then six to four. 1 ■Shan’t I? Well, that’s no use at nil. — A hundred and fifty' to a hundred.’ 1 !No use at all,’says the other. ‘ Thais just what I say. You can’t make money without some risk, you know. Ami what the duce can a fellow do with a hundred and fifty when lie’s gut if." This son of reasoning was very paUahle to the perturbed state of Charley' Court land's miud. What was the use of a hundred and fifty to him’.’ • And how do you go down to i’-psooi, Charley ?' said the fashionable Peter. ‘Epsom? I shan’t go to Epsom.’ And Chnriev gave a sulky lurch. 1 Not go to Epsom? O, come, L say, old fellow!’ And, after a prolonged stare of great astonishment, not deficient in in telligence, You're in love’." 1 That's good. I suppose you think every fellow that don't go to .Ep.pim H in love'.” , , ~ , ' I'm sure they are,' answered Pels rum lily enough ; uml lots that tin go ««»■» ; m, vou'd heller come. I’ll tell you what I'll ilo. I’ll drive you down in the drag, ami I'll put you on a good thing, when we get there. \\ hat will satisfy von ?—a hundred to one? J»eeuu»e I know smoothing I hat’s not quite n dead \m ut that price.’ , . , . . ‘l'll tell you what. Peter: It I could pull oil' ten thousand to a hundred, I should be the happiest fellow alive. I am in love, old fellow, with the imcl beautiful, the imM chanuiug, the most—' « Yes, of course; ho I conclude. All of you feUowHixre. When u fellow once be comes spooney, it’s astonishing how ha zy hU vision is. But you cornu with me. I’vo :t shocking bad one ut/lhat price myself to live hundred ; iunl if ho gets worse perhaps I may let you have a hun dred of it. Only don't toll any one.’ ‘ I woujd’nthavo it known that I laid a hundred pounds about any thing, lor half the world. Her father’d never for give it.’ ‘ Then if you don’t know It you can’t split before Wednesday, at all events. — rn tell you all about it then/ Hood by —be ready by 10:30 shun*/ And Peter Mayfair and Charley CourLland went different ways. Monday and Tuesday were very vexa tious days for gentlemen who were mak ing up their books and speculating on furthur chances for Wednesday. Two thirds of Loudon scarcely slept at all, four fifths got but a very feverish nap toward mornlug; and these dreamed of Vaubun, Marksman, Van Amburgh, and the possible Hake, whose bloodves sel aetfmed to bo mended again. Put there aro a select few who care no more for the Derby than they do for the Working Cemetery, or any other, recep tacle for the dead. They never go near It—they hate the name of it—they con alder the turf a national disgrace—limy believe all the three-year olds to be four year-olds—the Jockey Club to be a Sea Stock Company, and the owner of a race-horse to be an incarnation of the enemy of mankind. Old Maitland was one of these eccentric gentlemen who de duced universal conclusions from par ticular premises, though I suppose ho l mr dly called his singular ideas by so philosophical a name. He bad never been to a racecourse since iie was a boy. He never sent any body from bis house to one, lie was nev er asked, by ony of bis clerks or serv ants, permission to indulge in such u, monstrous temptation, and certain ly, hail he been a member of Parliament, would have annually opposed the motion for the annual adjournment. The Olympic games, be said, was a religious festival, at which there was no “ ten to one bar oneaud the analogy between that and the Derby was ridiculous, if not some thing worse. The first part of this state ment was true: it was a religious festival. The second was not, for there was an equivalent to the betting-ring even at Athena and Corinth. But we may as well return to,our hero and heroine. The former was exceeding ly miserable, at least be thought so, Per haps it’a hot surprising that he should have felt so. He had cherished a badly founded hope that old Maitland would have done anything for his daughter, ev en to palling with a luulsome sum ol ready money. Hla argument (it gentle men in his position over condescend to argument, but it appears to me quite in consistent with love) was somethingalter this .kind. ‘Old Maitland must love such a daughter almost as much as 1 do. I'd give her anything in the world I have, if I could get the chance ; Ergo, he’ll think nothing of just enough to keep us going,say fifteen or twenty thou sand ; and with my income, and the use of his carriage, wo might get on deuced well. Of course I should sell, and invest the proceeds in wine. Capital business a wine merchant’s,—quite a different tiling from any other.* Then he, by an easy and natural transition, ran over in bis mind the gentlemanly, well-received wine-merchants of his acquaintance. Mr. \V. (as T W—— it occurred to him mentally), and T • H , lie thought he could rough it in the sumo manner, and even drink his own cham pagne without a grimace under like cir cumstance,—and C and D , and half a dozen more rose up at once to view, and presented such a pleasant, battering picture, so much more pleasant and Hal tering limn the pleasure of mounting guard, or oven presiding at the mess din ner, that he looked upon his fate as seal ed, and no more dreamt of a refusal than his intended father-in-law dreamt of the Goodwood Cup. And really there was u great deal to say for this favorable view of matrimony. To be useful it should he early. Waiting destroys - half the charm. What’s the use of money, excepting to purchase hap piness, or of a daughter, excepting to make her a wife. What such happiness, too, us a cheerful, rather good looking son-in-law,—cheap at almost any money, —and the daughter of the sumo way of thinking. A grandfather, and 1 recom mended this view of the ease to stern par ents, is nothing remarkable at seven ly ; they’re common enough ; but a grand father at fifty, still capable of wearing well-made boots, and riding his son-ln- Jaw’s best horse; better stiii, keeping such us he will condescend to ride, is a remarkable person, and deserves the fran chise. Now when Charley began to review his case after the compulsory rejection, which, as 1 have befoio said, was put in the most favorable manner, though there was no doubt about the matter, he saw all this, or rather its worse side ; its nega tive, its upside-down, if 1 may so “ball it. Poor fellow, he remembered so well the way in which he had pumped old Mait land about a third party, and how frank ly the old man had made Ids views known to his young friend over a bottle of excel lent claret,and some Spanish olives. ' No young woman in my daughter’s position,* said he ‘ ought to marry u man with Jess than ten thousand pounds available capi • tal, ami the profession or business of a gentleman.’ Of course Charley had bow ed his head, and solemnly said bethought so. lie did not think so in bis own case; nobody ever docs. He argued 'ike a lov er then, not like a philosopher. ‘You see,’ and here the old gentleman was right us to practice,and wrong as theory, ‘ when a man can utTbrd to give his dang ler a docent sum of money cm her wed ding-day, and means to leave her every thing at his death, he expeels an equiva lent. ' ‘ More fool lie,’ thought Charity, after the rejection; ‘if he has got money ho ought to expect none, and vice vrrm. My old governor would give me anything, but then he lias nothing; in fact he’s very like me, and what I’d do lor Edith. However, it’s no use maundering about it; all I want to know is, how I’m to get ton thousand pounds out of an allowance of two hundred a year, besides my pay.’ It was a dilliculty, most men will ad mit. Falling back on the governor was about as useful as falling back upon a a heap of stones. He had not even an old aunt, nor a grandma! her; and though poison reads well under theeare/'uJ man agement of Miss Hraudon, there wasn’t any body to poison, excepting ids inten ded father-in-law. The wine business had been the result of two cigars, and a very good mail-plneton, which rattled past Ids window with a pair of high-step ping cobs; and City life generally had assumed a belter appearance upon the ar rival of an East End millionare and his wife, in a particularly neat barouche, two doors oil'lds own house. Speculation is speculation, whether on Kpsom Downs or in (Jnpal Court, and it was not till his unlucky walk in the How, that the possi bility’ of such an outrage on his previous respectability as as a lucky whger sugges ted itself to Ids mind. Now Charley was not a gambler; nor vin Urns in any way. He wasn’t in debt, nor gluttonous, nor a w.iuo bibbor, imr avaricious ; but he sadly wanted ten thou sand pounds at this moment; and he >woiv if he got it that liv’d make a good u-f oJ* it. Ho never had nine than a live I)■ >iind note in ids life at a time ; and live pound notes were no use t’> him now un it,—-; lie put twenty of Ihein together. If he wan Ud to preserve In-' good resolu tion.-, 100, which, in a mu ion of gambler-*, did him in/inite credit, lie wa> most un fortunate, not only in hi.-, d ty. but in liio companions he met with. lie saun tered along the day before die H-rby, and liu*. one alter the ivjeeiiiM id Ids suit, there was hut one topic <d conversation from one end of the Kow l 1 the other. * Plaudit's a dead 'uu. ‘ He'll eoino to the po.it for a bundled even.’ ‘Done with you Junks,’ and the tv*o gentlemen booked it. ‘ They say Wioughtou had a sore back, when Van Amburgh heat him at Hath.’ * I don’t cure what Wroughlon had, he must be better than Vauban by that run ning.’ ‘ Well, then, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll luy»you a thousand to a hundred about Van, and you shall lay me five to two about the Duke’s horse.’ * Done 1 and 1 done.’ 4 Nobbier, old boy, whal’s the best out sider'.” ‘ What, to lay against, or to back ?’ says Nobbier, ■ ‘O, to back, of course. I want to lay out a tenner. I’ve only one bet.’ ‘ Why there’s Eilz-Ivau, on the Moor, or Itoduefort,’ says Nobbier, mentioning two or three more, with the prices. ‘ Why not Hermit, Chaplin's horse.’ ‘H;v,*ha, ha,’ roars Nobbier, * he's us good as boiled. Here, I’ll iwy you.live hundred to five.’ And Hie price so fright ened Charley, that lie went farther on. Beneath the wide-spreading beech, al most opposite William Stiuut, watching the equestrians and pedestrians in the Dow, not much thinned (u»r Tuesday at Knsom, after all, is only meant for the, very high and the very low), sat four young men of what we cull in our in tense Hiiobbism the upper ten, like the deceit t watci'tiu, short for ton thousand, and us Charley Courtluml approached the chair, the ominous number would come into his head. Two ol the lour he knew, and one of the two was Peter Mayfair. ‘Ami how do you know he broke a bloodvessel?’said one. 4 His owner had n telegram,’ replies a second. - . , ‘ How do you know ?’ says a third. * Because, I saw it/ rejoins Number Two, ‘ and seeing is believing/ 1 How do you know the owner did nt send it himself’.” says Peter upon which there was a dead silence for a minute or two, and then one ul the three, who manifestly hud been studying the pen ny-a-liners, find who, consequently, could not know much about it, ventured to state his conviction that “ho never broke a bloodvessel ul all, but was doing hard work up to the last moment, aud was at that time ut Epsom, ready to start and will if he could, only it was well kndwu he could’nt stay. Why waa’nt heal forty to one instead of nine, H he was all wrong?’ - t **Now, Courtlnnd, now’s your tune; take ten thousand to one/ cried Book hum. • Don’t do anything of the, sort, Char-, lev” says Peter Mayfair; ‘l’ve done your business for you ; yo./.re going to stand a long I told y m I’d some thing goon, and I’m going to give jou a '* It is very good, Peter? If so, let me have fifty of it- 1 , .tin, ‘ ILs either very good or ver> bad in deed und I don’t mean to part with any mote until tomorrow. There. Charley, there’s your hundred gone,” _ saying which he handed him oyer a slip out or hia betting book, oil which was written ton thousand to one hundred against Hermit. ‘ Now you may go ami have a VOL 54.—N0. 34, quiet night, and mind you bring loUcf coats tomorrow, for if lt f a like this on the Downs you’ll want something stronger than champagne and plover's eggs to keep you warm.’ Kdith Maitland, while her lover was driven to desperate courses by her fath er’sdetennination, behaved with as much discretion as was seemly in a lady so situ ated. She neither tore her hair nor her pet ti coats while she was left at home, but she did think very seriously of her allairs, for she knew tier father to ho one of those men who arc always said to be as good as their word. Now that’s a very disagree able character; and Kdith determined upon being as good as her inclination.— For the present it amounted to some del icacy of appetite, a rather stubborn de termination not to originate remarks at the table, an indifference to now bonnets and a disinclination for an operabox on , Thursday night, fcjho intended, howev er, to come round as it suited her, to en courage Charley us a casual visitor, to re fuse any good oilers that might fall in her way, and to take the thing up with a ra- Ihorhigh hand when the iir«t blush of their little difference was over. She had no doubt, menially, that the thing would come rigid.. .She knew noth ing about Charley's resources, but she thought he looked quite a ten thousand pound man, and was sure he'd get the money somehow or other,—not this year, perhaps, but next, oral most, the one af ter that. What was the use of a crack regiment, and a largo acquaintance, if it was not to end happily at last? All ro mances did end happily ; and was real life worse than fiction ? Impossible ! and sho went to bed on Tuesday, and fell asleep, thinking of Charley. The insane old Scotchman who had created rrli the hubbub, because he would not let the girl marry a sort of better-class casual—not an absolute pauper, but, as he thought, very near it, —went away from his home on Wednesday morning with a very had cup of tea, and a general, feel ing that he was all in the wrong for the present. Kdith had only one piece of dry toast, without butter {whila hr lean at home)) and had declined talking at breakfast, though he began on .Scotch Reform and the Compound Householder. These interesting subjects having been i/ulnJged in without contradiction or as sent, ho got tired of talking, and walked off to the City. Of course, he knew nothing about the Derby,—the only man in .London who did not. Ho was a little surprised to see so many empty barouches posting about the squares and the streets, and to lind tlie Hansom cabs and the harness quite clean, all going one way, and resolutely declining to accept of him us a faro. At last he took a four-wheeler, and found himself at hia office,—a snug, quiet, com fortable, turkey-carpet looking place, with several newspapers airing at a good fire, and setting at defiance the sleet and snow which was falling outside. Presently his clerk came in and stirred up the fife to concert pitch. 1 Mr. Ste phenson come yet?' •No, sir, not yet,’ said Jobson ; ‘ there arc two notes on your table, sir,’ and Jobsou laughed, for he had heard of Der bies, though he had liever spent his holi days in such pursuits. 1 One of 'em looks like Mr. Stephenson's writing, sir, and the other was left by Mr. Kullliorpe’s servant half an hour ago.’ 4 Dear me! What an extraordinary thing! Mr. Stephenson was so bad with tlie toothache last night that he fear* ho must absent himself 10-day, and here's Mr. Fulthorpe obliged to go into the country to see a relative who in not ex pected l<» live, but will be sure to be back again to-night.’ 'The gentleman with tlie toothache was consoling thcono with the dying .relative; and as they were traveling towards Kpsom in a llansom call, it may be supposed that, If still alive, it was thereabouts that he lived. Everybody that roads Temple Bar knows all about the Derby ; the sleet, the snow, the wind, and the silence of aston ishment which greeted Hermit as the winner. The prophets prophesied false ly ; and after all was over, the nonsense that was written about condition, appear ance, shape, pace, would it not fill sever al volumes? All we have to do is with Charley’s eestacies, when he saw Vauban give way, and Marksman collared by a lad in a rose-colored jacket, who.-e legs hang as they should hang down a saddle, 1 who rode his horse brilliantly, and who simply outpaced Marksman in the last four A rides. There he .s:U, slupified at fil'd then an unobserved spectator in the next box, .-landing near him as the num ber-* went up, said ‘Hermit after all,’ Then, when lie recollected all the mighty tiling- that Mi 1 . Chaplin and Captain Ma elien and Daley, between them, had ef /i-ejed for him, Ins throat Idled nearly to bursting, ami his « yes with tears. Then be wondered what lie ought to do, and rushed down to tlie front to discharge his overburdened feelings into the cur of somebody on the drug. H iving crossed the cutir.se, with iv.curloussensatvovLidun to the beginning of typhus fever, a burn ing thirst, a sort of vertigo, and bloodshot eyes, he came in ductime to the drug; and the first book did more towards re storing him to himself than anything else. There was Peter, eating with much deliberation from a largo plateful of pig eon-pie, and throwing tlie hones, with an exquisite sense of the ludicrous, into the woolly wig of an KUuopeun sere nu de r. Without inconveniencing himself, when he caught sight of Charley, ah lie H:iid was, ‘ Como up here, Charley, we’vo done well to-day. Five and twenty thou., and ten to you, that’s five and thirty ; let’s hope we may be paid. Now emne up and drink.’ And it’s a curious fact in physiology, that the possibility of not getting "the money restored Charley Courtlund to his senses, and a tone to hia stomach. Z’etor drove a very jovial coaciii'ui homo na'-.uu; aiul that lie luul not oxceeded may be surmised by the fact that lie only turned over, and that very gently, one il mi I; ay cart by the way. I think if i suddenly found myself on a drag, with tlie prospect of llmiing thirty-live thou sand pounds at the end ol tho journey, I should upset all the costermongers' carta on the road. 'the week passed as such weeks do pass; the headaches of Thursday were cleared up in time for the Oaks of Friday, and as Saturday came opportunely between that and Sunday, the lollowiug Monday found everybody all right again. Kveryboily, •that is, that had nothing to do with the settling; of that ail 1 can say is, that cer tain scribblers imagine that they pay a great compliment to the aristocracy of Kngland, when they notify tile fact that a nobleman, having lost a very largv sum of money pays it. This is one ol those left-haiidcd compliments, which is scarcely comprehensible to anybody put Lord Dundreary. That noble lord, and other noble lords and gentlemen, paid their debts of honor, as might natuially bn expected, and Iho consctpience was that on Monday afternoon I’eter Mayfair was once more, (lor lie had his tips and downs) a capitalist, and Charley Court land was a leu thousand pounds mau. J dare eay many men think nothing of carrying ten thousand pounds nbout in their pockets, but that bus uevar occur red to mu, nor had it to Charley ; and with all these masses of sliver paper, these perishable llimsies, which full us it tiiey mean Hying away, ho was rather uncomfortable, 1 suppose that delicate texture, characteristic of bank notes, la metaphorical of easy decay, Buch a thing never con Id have been meant to keep; and their value may be estimated by tiio length of lime such tiling* have exi.-Umoe. ‘ When Charley CmirUand got Uk ho paid the gicatcbl respect to tho iir»t lew hundreds, and then began cram ming the rest into Ids breeches pockets, its others had done before him. The first place he went to. from Tatter sail’s was to Mr. Maitland a Chester .Street, not tar to go. -huirt was as full as ids pockets, and ho had great dilUculty in keeping awiiy horn the street till he could sanely all demands. It was five iu the afternoon, and when Halts for will bo inserted at Ten Unta per Hno for tho first Insertion, and five cents per lino for each subsequent Insertion. Quar terly, half-yearly, and yearly odvertlseraonU in serted at a liberal reduction on tho aboro rate*. Advertisements should bo accompanied by the Cash. When sent without any length of time specified for publication, they will bo continued until ordered out and charged accordingly. JOB PRINTING. Caiids, IlANDjjii.La, CincULAKS, and every oth er description of Jou and Caud Printing exectv foil in the neatest style, at low prices. he reached tho house the carriage was at the door. ‘ls Mr. Maitland at homo?’ ‘Miss Maitland is, sir; but I don’t know whether master is come in or not.’ ‘ I’d rather see .Mr. Maitland, if possi ble,’ which seemed odd to James, but no ways unreasonable considering (ho knowledge of affairs which had reached the servant’s hall. Mr. Maitland was at home, and. though glad enough to see Charley, could not help expressing his surprise ; the conversation opened upon tho weather, then it got to the Reform Bill, and then to tho weather again ; at last Mr. Mait land mentioned the engagement with big daughter. ‘ Ah, just so, Mr. Maitland. You have been made acquainted with my wishes, I fear 1 was prcsumplcous; but— ’ ‘ Not at all Charley; hut you know’ my sentiments on the subject. There is no body I esteem more. It would have been my greatest pleasure to have wel comed you as my son-in-law; ami, let me say bo at once, will be so still, when ever you can present yourself in circum stances which would justify—’ ‘ Yes, Mr. Maitland, I know,—that Is, 1 believe I was foolish to have said or thought so little of tho mostimportant of all objects ; but fortune, —Unit is a fortu nate, —a speculation, I may call it,— has placed ten thousand pounds at, my dispo sal, independently of my commission, and I am come to lay.it at Miss Maitland’s feet. During this speech the old gentleman's gooseberry eyes had expressed ns much as they could express of anything—we may call it astonishment. And when ho re covered hia breath sufficiently to speak, ho said, or rather gasped, ‘ And the se curity is good, my dear Charles, fur let me tell you, in the mercantile world mere are scoundrels as great to bo mot with as on the turf itself. The security, my dear boy, what is this speculation of yours ?’ Charley was not a man of business, ex actly, but he seems to have understood human nature; for ho immediately spread upon tlie table, before the astonished gaze of old Maitland, the proceeds of Hermit's year. They didn’t stay to count them; but in a few seconds, having assured the old gentleman that that was tho amount of the notes on tho table, he was ushered into tho drawing-room to make his own explanation of his sudden reappearance ; and it was not until four days afterwards that tho old gentleman recollected that ho had not yet ascertained tho nature of so Directive a speculation. * Mercantile, Charley, but what par ticular kind ?’ 4 Well, horseflesh, sir, to toll you the truth.’ 4 Horseflesh ! was it really! Now 1 ie fused to have anything to'do with that very thing; though we’ve had a French Company over hero for weeks before tlie* Exhibition, arranging for the business. And I’ve since heard that the consump tion in various forma is prodigious.’ 4 Prodigious !’ repeated Charley, migh tily tickled at the blunder, Iml'preserv ing his gravity. 4 Yes, and do you know, there’s a friend of mine in Paris,’rulher a wag, who says, that’s the only city in the world where they put the carte be fore the horse.’ Thy're going to be married on the twenty-first of June; butOharley declin es taking any more shares in tlie Hors* - flesh Company. He doesn’t expect such a pull out ofa dead one again in his life.’ ADVICE TO X DYSPEPTIC You have asked mo to prescribe for you. You expect medicine; perhaps ymi hope for whiskey, just now tho rage for chronic maladies, hut I shall give you nothing to swallow ; you have swallowed 100 much already. Of all tho maladies d> spepsia is the most distressing ; to get rid of Its horrors you would part wiih your right arm ; I believe you, hut would you part with a portion of your table lux uries? I fear not; but persuming you are in earnest, I will proscribe for you ; 1. Rise early, dress warm, and go out ; if strong, walk ; if weak, saunter. Drink cold water'three times—of all cold baths this is best for dyspepsia; after half an hour or more, come in for breakfast. 2. For breakfast eata piece of good steak half as large as your hand, a slice of coarse bread and a baked apple ; oat very slowly; talk very pleasantly with your neighbors; read cheerful comments of journals; avoid hot biscuits and strong coflee ; drink nothing. ;L Digest for an hour, ami then to your work; I trust it is in tho open air. Work hard till noon, and then rest body' and mind till dinner; sleep little; drink wa ter. 4. Dinner —two or three o’clock—eat a slice of beef or mutton or fish as largo as your hand, potato, two or three spoons ful of other vegetables, a slice of coarse bread ; give more than half an hour to this meal use no drink. 5. After dinner play anaconda for an hour ; now for the social, for pleasant games—a good time. G. No supper— a little toastand tea ovlmi forsupper, will make your recovery very slow. In a warm room', bathe your skin with cold water hastily, and go to bed in a well ventclated room before nine o’clock. Follow this prescription for three months and your stomach will so far re cover that you can indulge for some time in all sorts of irregular and gluttonous eating; or if you have resolved, in the fear of Heaven to present your bodies, living sacrifices, holy and acceptable un to Hod, and will continue to eat and work like a Christian, yourdhtressiug malady will soon be forgotten.— Dio Zends, -V. JK Tins Dam Boauino.—A young gentle man went to sec the daughter of a Pres byterian elder lately, whoso house was near a ndli-dam. It being in tho spring of the year the water made considerable of a roar as it tumbled over the dam. The modest young man tapped iightely at tho door at first and received no answer. He tapped again—still noanswe.r. Again and again he repealed Ida knock, but still lie was unheard. Mustering up some cour age, he proceeded to inflict some severe thumps ou the door, which brought tin* staid old gentleman out. 1 1 suppose,’ said the youngster, who had by this time become slightly savage for being compelled to wait so long, ‘ I suppose you could not hear my knocking on account of the dam roaring.’ ‘Thedamn roaring? What doyou mean, sir? ll6w dure you speak fa that way ?' said the divine, somewhat angered by hearing the young man swear in his prcs 'encc. 4 1 mean tosay that Isupposeyoucoukl not hear me knocking on account of the dam roaring.' 4 Damn roaring again I You young scoundrel I Have you the impudence to insult mo with the repetition of Uiom* words? Begone sir V ‘My dear sir,'quoth the now bewil dered youth, ‘ I intended to say that I presumed X could not be hoard on ac count of the dam roaring,' laying a par ticular stress on the fast two words. 4 Insult ou insult 1’ shouted the infuri ated old man, and ru«hed at the poor fel low with the evident intention of ejec ting him, but was restrained by the voice of his daughter, e.vcJa»miug: ‘ Papa, I suppose the young man in tended to say that he could not bo heard on account of the roaring of the dam.’ 4 Oh! I beg your pardon, sir— walk In, walk in really—ah, well! I declare! The dam roaring! Capital I Come iu.eomein. That is really too rich !» * it is needless to add that the young ster went in, and in the excellent socie ty of the yoirng lady soon forgot (ho dam roaring. I'or several weeks the Springfield Lender kept the following conspicuously at tho head of its local column ; Boy wanted at this cilice.” A few days since the editor’s wife presented him. with a boy, which, in a highly significant way, shows.tho value of advertising.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers