{ ®I)C 3hnmmn Uoluntecr £j i PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BRATTON Sc KKISTNIiIIOY. OFFICE—SOUT3I MARKET SQUARE, : 3 tkiuis ‘Two Dollars por year If paid strictly Mis 1 n advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if paid sfe within llireo months; after which Throe Dollars O will bo charged. • Those terms will bo rigidly ad iicrccl to in every Instance. No subscription din* g| continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at HI the option of the Editor. . professional fflarirs. c. P. HUMRIOH. | WM. B. PARK EK, -JJUMRICH & PARKER, ✓I TTORNEYS A T LA TP. O/Ilce on Main Street, In Marlon Hull, Car lisle, Pa. Dec. 21. 186 - ‘ SfTNITED STATES CLAIM V * «WD HEAL ES TA TE A OEEO TI M. B. BUTLER, _ ||| ATTORNEY AT LAW, ?| Ufllco lu 2d Story of InhofTs Building, No. U South Hanover Street, Carlisle, Cumberland county Fenna. ‘ if® Pensions, Bounties, Back Pay, Ac., promptly collected. !?3| Applications by mull, wUll receive Inunedluto tiSt ‘ attent ion. }>/g Particular attention given to the selling or rent f.s| mg of Ileal town or country. In oil let- I ters of Inquiry, please enclose postage stamp, I July H.18G7-tf jS| E. E. BELTZMOOVER, “ 1 P ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, S ■ CARLISLE, PA. h§ JSSfOUIce on South Hanover Street', opposite i-S Pentz’s dry goods store'. . :*$ Dec. 1,18l»5. WM. J. SHEARER, Attornev and Counsellor at Law, hasromovcd hJs nllico to the hitherto unoccupied room in the North East corner of the Court House. r Jan. 28, 'O9—IV W KENNEDY, Attorney at Daw # Carlisle. Penna. OUlco same n-s thntol raj i lie "American VoUiutcor.” m Deo. 1. 1800 , i , 'JAMES H. GIIAHAM, Jn„ I ' ATTORNEY AT LAW, 9 r -NO. 14 SOTUH HANOVER ST., f| Carlisle, pa. $| OFFlCE—Adjoining Judge Graham's. March 31, 1870—tf EL. • SHRYOCK, Justice of the . I’eaco. OfllcoNoS, Irvin's Row. Carlisle. April 29,1509—1 y . DR. GEORGE S. SEARIGHT, Den tist, From the Baltimore College of Dental surgery. OlUco at the Tesidonco of his mother East Louther Street, three doors below hod ford arllsle, Peunn. Dec! I 1805. ' DR. J. &. BENDER, Homoeopathic Physician, Ofllco No. fl, South Hanover sf„ lormcrly occupied by John Loo. Esci. Juno 3,1800—ly. DU. I. Y. REED, Homeopathic Phy sician. has located in Carlisle. Ohloo next door to St. Paul's Evanglllcal Church, West Louther Street. Patients from ndlstance please call In the forenoon. March 17, 1870—Omf E. HIRONS, Attorney and COUNSELOR AT DAW, FIFTH STREET, BELOW CHESTNUT. , Cor. Library, ; PHILADELPHI V. Oct i l, 1800—ly ROBERT OWpiNS, SSLATS 2S.OOFBR. AND D E ALEIi IN ,SV, ATE LANCASTER, pa. All- Work Guaranteed. Va' Orders Lefi at this Ofllco will receive prouint attention. October IJ, 1809—ly. jipats ana viaiis. PRE S H UMMKRA R R I V A L OF ALL THE A EW STYLKS OP HATS A N D .0 A P S . The .subscriber has Just opened at No. 15 North Hanover Street, a few uoorsNorth of the Carlisle Deposit Bank, one of the largest and best Stocks ofiIATS and CAPS over offered in Carlisle. Silk Hats, Cosslmero of all styles and qualities,- Btilf Brims, different colors, ahd every ftescrlp lion of Soft Hats now made. The Duifkard and Old Fashioned Brush, con stantly on hand and made to order, all warrant ed to glvo satisfaction. * A full asaoi tmont of ' MEN’S. BOY’S,.AND CHILDREN’S. HATS. have ulso added to my Stock, notions of difier 6Ht kinds, consisting of LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS, Feck Ties, Suspenders, 9 Cellars, Gloves , Pencils , Thread, Sewing Silk , Umbrellas, iCc PRIME.SEGARS AND TOBACCO ALWAYS ON HAND. •Give mo a call, and examino my stock as I feel fonfident of pleasing all, besides saving you mo ney. JOHN A. KELLER. Agent, No. 15 North Hanover Street. .May. 1M&. JJATS AND CAPS ! DO YOU WANT A NICE HAT OR CAP ? Ip so. Don’t Fail to Call on J. G. GALLIC, . NO, 29. WES 2 MAIN’ STR&ET, Wliuio can be seen the finest assortment of HATS AND CAPS over brought to Carlisle. Ho takes great pleas- Iq Inviting iiio ota jfrlentlß and customers, aQa.’all new ones, to his splendid stock Just re ceived from New York and Philadelphia, cou nting In part of find , SILK AND HATS, besides an endless variety of Hats aucl Caps o the latest style, all ot which he will sell at th Lot vest Cash Prices. Also, his own mauufactur Hats always on hand, and HATS MANUFACTURED TO ORDER, xio has the best arrangement for coloring Hats aud all kinds of Woolen Goods, Overcoats, sc., at too shortest notice (as h<i colors every week) and oil the most reasonable terms. Also, a flue lot of choice brands of TOBACCO AND CIGARS always on band, ilo desires to call the atteutlo to persons who have CpUNTRY FURS to soil, as ho pays the highest cash prices for the same. Give him a call, at tho abbvo number, his del fliand, as ho feels confident of giving entire satis faction. . •- May 1809.' • iSoots anU Sfjocs. DAVID STEOHM, . W. D. SPONSLE&, 1 ‘ JOHN W. STEOHM, *® W AND POPULAR BOOT, SHOE, THUNK AND HaT STORE. NO. W. SOUTH HANOVEU STREET. A , CARUStB, PKNN’A. wl U oora South of luhofi’B building, >»e nave just op6ued the largest aud best stock BOOTS t AND SHOES tin Hi- i°^ er * a Carlisle, ami nontlnuo-alinna hVwVif lu receive such goods In our lino ns every Glir stock consists in all kinds and. varieties of , %noi ae i\ 1 r 8 '» hisses and Childrens’ strong Leather Gfttfi?' 'Vi9 mons ’ Misses and Childrens’Lasting Mn,l r8 ’ Womens’ Glove Kid, Turkey and French IWo CC ?/ Mens’ and Boys’ Calf, Bull* and Kid. Online Mens’ Jnd Boys’ Call and Buff Congress Uri« n rs ' Moos’ and Bdys’ Lasting Gaiters and TW*. ; Mens’ and Boys’ Calf and Buff Oxford »(!„' G , ut a Sandals, Buskins and Overshoes: npr«. a ?r Gout, Welt and Carpet Sllpr ouy liats* 18 ’ B> anc * Childrens’ Fur Sax of all sizes and prices; Traveling in,® 8 ; Satchels and Valises, together with a line which we will sell to salt the limes, larE lOK SALES ANI)„M ALLS PKOFITS," h m 9 tto ‘ Therefore, in issuing our card, It nniU'foded as a personal Invitation to all In rpoiiV 0 Call and look through our stock without ohnm B hudor onllgatlons to buy unless suited in At, a J u y and price. We shall always try to deal a*’, 11 everyone In a straight forward manner, *uagivo every customer a full equivalent for his tnenoy. We nope all will avail themselves of meir Ijkst opportunity to call and see us, BTROHM A SPONBLER. April 8,180&—ly TjUUMERS.—Their Sons, and others fi rrrS?, malce money rapidly, selling the NEW bvni ar S ATED PAUMKIIS* MANUAL, edited. Aim. o0 * k* Waring, Jr., Practical Farmer and fWtl o i'« * at<> Agricultural Engineer of N. Y. Issnn i ?V; rlc * The best book for Farmers over lai, ® a “* A h need it before planting. Ittsasound httva h av .?» money making book. Thousands E<nii« oUßll v t ' tliousaucls more want it, 15th ffi a n p wJ r r , n» l,lvo Agents wanted. Profits * lOO Uheataut Ht Pmia - A WORD TO CONSUMPTIVES.— UaiuriT eln S aB^ practical treatise on tho Coasm’nS?, ca * symptoms of pulmonary thpip Ul «r tlon * bronchitis and Asthma, and balati™ o ventlon, treatment, ana cure by In* fflSS* Bont b y raaU : ™ e - . . - • . . . . . il l , . - .....: ~_ '••:'. e -,,.. •21. 4 N, z.: ' • :‘, `:, • •.- „ t ', 441/ r 'i .. .* .. , . . , .:, p • k • i ~,:i • p•,.., „:„ 5) ~..: 1 4 ,, ,t • : . oh_,.. 1 ,, , , . 4 ' # , "? • .. e , r . .t : V N ' • _. .•••••• ze- -e, /44 kk ' • ' % 1 3 " . . . .e.. . . . . . .....,)•-s . . , . , . BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. iHfUßcellaimuis. Q.REAT COMMOTION dry goods, On account of the reduction In Gold, tho Drv Jr.°s.u erc . h< > ute who understand their business mVA. 11 ? 0 CG . r .T II ? Bl Bne of the times, have reduced :«T.R rlco ? Ithol rSoodscorrespondingly. Thesub scrlbera have just received from the cities a large aud full assortment of all kinds of FOREIGN & STAPLE GOODS, alli'ee h ISO| 0y wIU Scll lo " or llll,n lllo . v have don. SILKS, -Co Lalucs, Alpacns, Popllna, Hctkoh. fanzines, larnlKe Ololh, Grenadines. flannels of all kinds, Lllloll Table Diapers, Cotton do., Checks, lickings, Ginghams, Counterpanes, EMBROIDERIES, a full lino; White Goods lu great variety, HOSIERY, GLOVES, TRIMMINGS, and a full stock of DOMESTIC GOODS, bngs' us^nj3 * * ,11 9 piece or yard; Grain CLOTHS, CASSIMERS, &o„ of nil kta>ls nml at the lowest prices. CARPETS, OIL CLOTHS, Druggets, Window Shades, Matting, MILINERY GOODS of all kinds, including Ladles , and Childrens ■tints and Sundowns, and the best assortment f , l J|d best quality of lino Ulbbons in the county.— Kid Gloves, (best make,) Jewelry, Fancy ((nods (md Notions In great variety. This MAMMOTH STOCK OP GOODS tne largest in this section of country. Is offered a. px-lces that defy competition, and all wo ask is a lair examination by good Judges of goods to satisfy the public that this Is the place to buv and save money. LADIES' UNDER WEAR, . A nice assortment of Ladles’ Under Clothing very handsomely stitched and trimmed at rcnsohablo prices. WOOL taken in exchange for goods, • o BENTZ & e’O. ' At the old Dry' Goods stand established Feb ruary Ist, 1810. March 31.—70 a THE GREAT MEDICAL DISCO VE~ RYI DR. WALKER’S CALIFORNIA VINEGAR BITTERS, More than 500,000 Persons bear testimony to heir Wonderful Curative Effects. WHAT- ARE THEY? TAEV ARE NOT A VILE FANCY DRINK Made of Poor Rum, Whiskey, Proof Spirits, and Refuse Liouors. doctored; spiced, and sweetened to please the taste, called “Tonics;" “Appetiz ers." "Restorers," Ac., that lead the tlpploron to drunkencss and ruin,but are a true medicine made from the hatlvo Roots-and Herbs of Cali fornia free from all Alcoholic Stimulants. They BLOOD PURIFIER and LIFE QIMNG PRINCIPLE, a perfect Renovator and Invlgorator of the Syktfcm. carrying off all pol sonous matter, and restoring iho blood to a healthy condition. No person can take these Bitters according to Directions, and remain Ion" unwell. ° 8100 will be given for an Incurable case, pro vided the bones are not destroyed by mineral poisons or other means, and the vltflaionrans be yond the point of repair. F PL, ln * lammat °ry nnd Chronic Rheumatism, and Gout, Dyspepsia, or Indigestion. Billons. Remittent;and Intermittent Fevers, Diseases of the Blood, Liver, Kidneys, and Bladder, these Bitters have been most successful. Such Diseas es are caused bv Vitiated Blood, which is genor ally produced by derangement of the Digestive Organa. ' ■ ** .Cleanse the Vitiated Blood whenever you find 1U impurities bursting through the akin in Pim ples, Eruptions or Sores: cleanse It when you find It obstructed nml sluggish In the veins cleanse it when itlsvfoul. and your feelings will .tell you when. Keep the blood pure nnd the health of the system will follow. PIN, TAPE, nnd other WORMS, lurking in the system of so many thousands; are clfectifal-- ly deslroyednnd removed. In Bilious, Rom Ittenl.and Intcrm Ittent Fevers these,Bitters have no equal. For full directions read carefully' the circular around each boltlo, irlnled in four languages—English, Gorman, French and Spanish. J.'WALKER, Proprlelor, 32 Commerce St., N. Y. „ . It. 11. MCDONALD & CO.. Druggists, and general Agents. San Francisco and Sacramento. California, anti 32 and 31 Com merce Bt., New York. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS & DEALERS. Morph .17,1870—8 m QARPETS ! CARPETS !! • I’fIVSIMR & WISER, C A R PE T ST O RE, JVo. 23 East Main Stceet, CARLISLE, In Iho HENTZ. HOTEL The largest aud cheapest assortment of CARPETS, OIL CLOTHS, MATTINGS, WINDOW SHADES, LOOKING GLASSES, MAT AND CARPET CHAIN’S • • always on hand. Wo are prepared to furnish purchasers with all grades of C®Vrpots at the lowest rates. FRYSINGERi* WKIBEH. March 17.1870-3ra 1870. ' 1870 SPRING ,AJ7D SUMMER IMPOTA TION. .. BUBO NS,' MILLINERY AND STRAW QOOIiS ARMSTRONG, CATO JR & CO. IMI’OETEia AND JOBBERS G*’"’ jf{* BONNET, TRIMMING &. VELVET RIBBONS Bonnet Bilks, Sa|ms and Velvets, • Blonds, Nets, Crapes, Pitches, Flowers, Feathers ORNAMENTS, ‘ STRAW BONNETS AND LADIES’ HATS, TRIMMED AND VNTRIMMKD, ‘ SHAKER HOODS, &c. l£l7 anil 239 B BALTIMORE, <MD. ■ Offer th© largest Stock to bo Jfound In this Country, aud unequalled in chofco variety aud cheapness, comprising fhn.i.nogt cities. . , u Orders solicited, jjilcfrnrompt attention given, Fob. 2i, 1870—2in*’ * ■ Tj^GGS! EGGS!! ” RQGB!! ! ‘ ,v - From light Brahma fowls, pea comhdtl, strictly pure from Imported stock. $2.00 PER DOZ’EN. , No* order will bo booked unless accompanied by tho cosh. A few pairs for sale, SLOO PERJPAIR. A few Half-Breed Italian Bees for anlu In movable comb hives—cheap. Ad dress - C. U. HOFFER. P. O. Box U 7, Carlisle, Pa. March 3, ISTft—' rjIHK MARY INSTITUTE C A K LISLE, PEJfN’A. A BOARDING SCHOOL FOR GIRLS. The Ninth Annual Session will begin on Wed nesday, September Ist. For circulars or any tber Information address UEv. WM. C. LEVEUETT, M. A. CarllHlo.Ponu'a April 22, IHiO-lj p F EIL &CO PRODUCE COMMJS&IOE MEII Cl 1 AMTS, No. lONoutii Wateh ‘Btkeht, Philadelphia. Solicit consignments ofnll kinds of PKODUUE Also, Butter, Eggs, Poultry, Ac, Ac. ’ Philadelphia Heforcnces—N. C. Mussel man. Esq.. Pros’t Union Banking Co., Philadelphia; Messrs. (Alien & CJllford, and Messrs. Henry Sloan & Bon. N. B,—Please send for Weekly Price Current free of charge. £laroh 10, Ib7o—6jq * iWltcal WHEN YOU WERE SEVENTEEN. When the hay was mown, Mary, ’ In the years long ago. And while the western sky was rich With sunset’s rosy glow. Then hand In hand, clpso-llnked, wo passed The dewy, ricks between, When I was one and twenty. May, And you wore seventeen. • Your voice was low and sweet, Mary, Your wavy hair was brown; Your cheek was like the wild red £oso That showered Its petals down; * Your eyes wore like the blnespeed-wel With dewy moisture sheen, When I was one and twenty, May, Aud you wore seventeen. , The Spring was in our hearts, Mary, And all Its hopes wore ours, And wo were children In the fields Among the opening flowers, Ay! life was like a Summer day Amid the woodlands green, For I was one and twenty, May, And yon were seventeen. The yearshavo come and gone, Mary, With sunshine and with shade. And silvered is tho silken hair ' That o’er your shoulders strayed In many a soft nnd wayward tress— Tho fairest ever seen— When I was one and twenty, May Ami you wore seventeen.. t Thmigh gontly changing Time, Mary, Has touched you In his night, Your voice has still the old sweet, tone, Your ejo the old love light, Apd ycaw cun never, never change The heart you gave, ! ween, When I was one and twenty. May, ; And you were seventeen. ffligirettanfoll6. From Llpplucotl’s Magazine THK GREAT FJLOOO. A GRANDMOTHER'S STORY. How long was it, do you ask, little Ben ny ? Sixty-one years, if it was a day.. It is ;dow June. I was seventy-nine the lentb of last April; mid that worst day of the Great Flood was on one other tenth of April, exactly sixty-one years before. It was my eighteenth birth-day, too; I remember Has well as anything else that happened. ’For that matter, I remember it all well enough; it’s not very likely that I shall forget such a time as that was until the sods cover; me. Como here to my knee, little Benny, and I’ll tell you all about it. The country was new then—no't so new that the Indians or the wild animals; troubled us much, for there were only a i few of the Delawares very near us, and they were'lao much civilized that they cared .for nothing but whiskey ; and a stray wolf or catamount was all that troubled our pigs and chickens. When I say it was a new country, I mean that it was pretty much all woods, with very few settlements, ami not many people In theim They were mostly along the banks of this river, for almost every one was lumbering or rafting; and that was what brought father here from Vermont. My .mother died away up among the Green Mountains; and it always seemed to me as if he couldn’t bear the old homestead after that. He grew very restless and un easy.; and one day he came homo, early in the afternoon, and said to me: ‘ Daughter, I have a chance to sell the place at a bargain. Shall I do it ? This hasn’t been much like home to me for two months. I think I’m wanting hew scenes and new faces to blunt.the grief I have for her that's left us. Shall wo go to Pennsylvania, Bessy? I’ve a plan to go into the lumber trade ; and mayhap I’ll make so much money in a year or two that we’ll go to Philadelphia, and you’ll be a fine lady the rest of your days. Shall we go, Bessy?’ Poor father ! The dear, kind soul lived and died with the wish nearest bis heart to make me a fine lady. I’m thankful that'he never saw it accomplished; but he did see me become a useful woman, and, I hope and trust, a good wife and mother. How that happened, Benny, is the story that I’m telling you now. •Look from the north window, there, boy; I'd come and look with you, but my rheumatism is bad to-day. -No matter. Do you see that long pointofland, a mile up stream, that runabout into the water? Yeslwell lookfa little closer.at it. Far thest from the shore it spreads out into an acre of good, high land, but the narrow neck that joins that to the shore is com monly almost ns low ns the bed of the stream. There are great high stepping stones across it now, that father laid there when we first earner and we used to walk dry-shod over them when the spring raimi had raised the river. I remember but one solitary time when the water covered the stepping-stones as well as tho neck of, land, and that was the time of the great'fiood.- Our little house was built on that high land out in the middle o'f the river—a two story frarae.atfair, with two rooms down stairs and twb up; aud, after all, it took a!4 the neighbors to raise the roof. It was an odd notion of fathef’s.in putting it there; ho used to say that the day would come when he could seH oil valuable water privileges around his acre." That day hasn’t come yet, Benny; but some times, when I think of poor, dear father, and ail his plans and schemes for me, and of what has happened, I really-think that something.like Providence put it into, his heart to fancy that queer little corner out there in tho river, and to build our house there. lam going to fell you what I mean right away. After the little house was built .and furnished,.! stayed at homo aud kept it, and father took to the woods with tho loggers. He led ft hard enough life from that time on till he died ; summer and winter he was at work with his men sometimes at %he, logger’s camp, then haullug the logs to the river and rafting them down to the bay, where ho sold them to the contractor. There were weeks when he wouldn’t bo home a day but Sunday; but when ho was rafting I often heard his shout on -the-river, and- could^gG~lilin~^ y gvtng~lrtg hat from the raft ns it went slowly down the stream, with the.,fiPrro.llW, I J*<> W 1 was a goofLtyaughter in, those days ; I tried my beat to do qjl I could for him. I kept the house neat and tidy, and mend ed his clothes; and regularly once a day I cooked a great mess which was taken up hot to the logger's campon a great tin pail that was got from the city. I waalouesome-like often enough, for there were whole days that I did not see a human being to exchange a but Ben Sample, who almost always came for the dinner. Heigh ho! It is long enough ago that I’m telling.you of, and handsome Ben Sample was then hardly twenty-one. I don’t know, my boy, but the lads are as handsome and sprightly and as good now as they were threescore years ago; if I say not, It may be because 1 tee them through an old woman’s eyes, and that T can’t see thq charm that I could once. However that Is, I know I never saw so fine a lad, every way, as thaffone was. Ho was not over tall, nor yet short; he was of middling height, with broad shoulders nud big hands, and was as strong as any two of them—so father said. He had curly chestnut hair, and red and white cheeks, like r. girl, , though sunburnt; and his eyes were great blue eyes, aud his teeth shone so when he laughed (and that was often,) that anybody would have liked him. And then he was so honest and clever, and so kind and obliging, that before I had seen him many times I came to like him right well; and one day I happened to say to father that I thought Beu Sample was an excellent lad, and that I wished I could ' , V—t-^n, I CARLISLE, PA., (THURSDAY. APRIL T, 18T0 have moreof his company. I never saw lath* look stern all of a sudden, ns he did then ; and I never heard him sneak so stern, either. ' ‘Better leave him to his place, Bessy,’ he said, very quiob and sharp like. ‘He’s naught but a poor lumberman, after all, and he’s, not likely to‘be aught else. So don’t he tender with him, daughter; I bid-yob naught. If you’ve felt any too kind to him you must cheek it in time. Have little to say to him, daughter: it’s your father’s wish.’ Poor Ben ! There had been no talk of love between us before this morning, and I do not know that I had thought of him at ail as a lover; but by and by, after a few weeks more, when I had tried hard to obey my father’s command and treat him coldly, he lingered one day over the great tin pail long enough to press my hand, and whisper bashfully— ‘Dear Bessy!’ I snatched my band away and looked hard at him, and told him that he 1 must never say nor do that again. He left me, looking ns grieved ns I ever saw another mortal look ; and when he was gone I went out to the log seat by the river and cried as though my heart would break. I didn’t know my feelings till then, hut il Ben Sample could have seen me that hail hour! Ben did not come witli the great pail after that; another man took his place, and things went.on in the old lonely way ail the rest of that w’inter and through the next spring. It was the first week of March, I think, of that year, that father brought young Mr, CfSrdle to the house. Young Mr. Cardie was the only eon of oid Jacob Cardie, the millionaire, who lived in Philadelphia, and was contract ing with father for ail his logs for years to come. The old man meant thatyoung Jacob should succeed him in business in a few months; -and ho thought it would I bo an excellent thing to send him upinto the logger s country for awhile, to get acquainted with the different kinds of ( lumber, and the processes of cutting it and getting it to market. Father thought it would be an ,excellent thing for ,him self to entertain him at tile house while* he remained ; and so for the next five weeks they were regulai ly at home morn ing and nights, sleeping in the house and 3peiKlln£ the day in the woods or on the river. But it wasn't hard to see that I young Mr. Cardie grew tired of this very soon ! and presently he began to come back to the house in the middle of-.the day, and fish or shoot in the neighbor hood until night. You’ll want to know whafkind of man he was. Ho was paloand slender; hand some enough for those that like such beauty as that in men ; and rather fop pish. with his diamond ring and his silky moustache. He was very polite, too, and he would talk and chatter as city folks can; hut I never thought,there was much heart or good feeling in anything he said or did. Yet he seemed to like me from the first, and poor father whispered to me ten times, if lie did once: * 'Play thy cards shrewdly, Bessy, and thou’lt. catch him ! He’ll make thee a lady, girl, and a rich one !’ And stranger things have happened, I know., than my marrying him would have been ; surely affairs wore rapidly drifting towards it, and I had almost suc ceeded iu crushing the thought of Bm Sample out of ray heart, find playing the part that my father wished me to play to young Jin Cardie (for I never could have persuaded myself to love him,) when that, fatal Tenth of April came that brought' my eighteenth birthday and the Great Flood together, ■ The river had been rising slowly for a week before it, and there had been much ra'n with us. We beard reports of tre mendous'. rains in the mountains two hundred miles north of us, which Mated for days and days ; , and the river con tinued to risesteudiiyand slowly, though up to that day. it was not over the step pmg-slones across the ueok. On the morning of the tenth the rain came down at first steadily , and Mr. Car die thought lie would not leave thohouse. Father went over to the camp just after breakfast, saying that ho would return as Usual toward night; and so we two spent the day alone together. -I-tried to talk with him and interest him, but he was restive and uneasy, and half the time was idly turning over leaves or drumming with his Ungers on the window-panes. It was about the middle of the after noon, when I was wondering what I should do next, (and thinking a little of poor Ben Sample, I believe,) that Mr. Cardie turned short around to me and said, very abruptly ; ‘l’m going back.to.tlie city to-morrow, Bessy. I want to know if I can come back here in three months—that’ll bo the middle of July—and make you my wife"' # 1 looked straight at him and said not a word, but oh, ray boy, how l aid think of Ben ! 'l'm rich enough for both of us, and to spare,' ho went on j ‘ and you're every thing I want in a wife. You know you're handsome, Bessy, and I suppose you are good. Will you marry me when I come «B“«“ ft I neverrbought of myself or <my own feelings; I put all thoughts ofßfenout of my head, remembering my father,and said ‘Yes' —nothing more. I don't know whether Mr. Cardie would have kissed mo or not; he-had no chance ; for hardly had I spoken that word when there , was a knock at the door, and I opened it to admit—Ben Sample himself! We were all three of us rather ill at ease for a moment. Mr. Cardie know Ben, I suppose, and must have heard something about his old feelings forme,' for he stepped back to the window’ and frowned, never speaking or-nodding to Ben, who stood there with his hat twirl ing in his hands, awkward and abashed. He only found his tongue when I asked him to sit down, then he said : ‘Nay, I can’t stop. I only came to bring your father's message that ho won’t be hpmo to-night. The rise in the river has broken Joose the great raft up at'Lo gan’a Ford, that was to bo floated down to-morrow, and he's gone up with all hands to moor It. Ho can't be here to night.'• That was awkward news for me. I had never thought of staying In that lonely place without father; and it was little consolation to think of Mr. Cardie as a protector. Just as I had a question on my tongue, Ben spoke again : ‘You don’t know how fast the river is rising.* he said. 'Out on the stones ths. water is almost to the tops of my hoot, and,seems to be rising higher.’ ‘Do you think- there is,any danger in staying here ,io-nlght ?’ N Jastodj/n.some alarm. :i,‘ ‘Maybe not,’ he answered doubtfully, ‘but I never knew the river to be so high before.’ ‘Ben, Ben, what shall I do?’, I took no notice at all of Mr. Cardie, and felt no safety except from the presence of Bon. ‘Didn’t father send any other ‘None at all.’ ’And won’t you stay?’ “‘After what has happened, Bessy ? I shouldn’t think you’d wish it.’ Then he must have seen how grieved and sorry I looked, and how alarmed I ‘felt, for Jie added, right away— ‘Yes, I will stay, Bessy, If you wish It, though I trust aod believe there’s no danger.’ '* I thanked him with’a look, and before I could say anything more, Mr. Canjlo spoke. ‘Do you think there’s any danger of the river upsetting the house?’ he asked. ‘lt surely will if it rises high enough,’ Bon replied. ‘Hark ! hear that !’ Generally, when the door was open, we could hear a fqlnt ripple of the current, but It now had a hoarse, loud sound that was now to me. Ben looked dubious as ho heard it. *1 don’t like that,’ ho said. ‘Let mo go out and oee.’ He was not gone three minutes, and ho came back with his face full of trouble. •The water Is within twenty feetof the door,’he said. *1 don’t suppose I could wade from here to the bank, We must rm VO * iere onCe » a,1( l when you’re safe, 1 11 conic back and save some of the thiiiffs. if tbo water gains like this, all the ilopr will be under in au hour/ He went out again; I knew what for. Iho west foundation wall of the bouse was next the river, and father always kept a skiff tied there. I understood from what Ben said, that he meant to, bring the skiff round to the front and lake us,to the shore. I was putting on my hood and shawl when lie came back. Hib face was.as pale as ashes, and he never noticed me at first, but looked all round the room ami into father’s cham ber. ‘Where’s that fellow Cardie?’ he ask ed. Thiul not noticed that bo was gone : lie had been standing by tbe window just before Bon went out the Inst time. ‘I thought it, J Ben cried, and his face looked half sorry, half mad. ‘Bessy, do y ,°. l L. kuow wbftt ha 9 happened? The skiffle gone! and that man with it.’ I 1 9°, ked tendfi o '! into his face, and then followed him to the door and look ed out with him. It was almost night, but what there was of daylight left show ed us a mad, white-capped torrent of wa ter, rushing through the channel between i us and tbe shore—so near to us that wo I could have stepped off the lower step in to it, and roaring and .whirling in a manner that was fearful to see. The rain had ceased, and I didn’t then see how the river could rise so; but I under stood it afterward, when they told-me that it was all owing to a sudden thaw up in the mountains that had melted the snow in the gorges and poured hundreds of new streams into the river nil at once. We looked a moment, and then came back Into the room. I was afraid, I sup pose.; but noj so much, as I thought at first. Somehow I felt a sense ofsecurlty with Ben Sample there, that robbed the situation of.all the terrors it would have had without him. I hardly thought of 1 incob Curdle, and how mean and heart- 1 .loss he was loabandon ussoaml deprive 1 us of the means of safety, wnen Ben * wanted to save us altogether. ‘Ben will 1 save me,’ was ail I could think of; and I suppose I repeated the words to myself a hundred times. Once I must havospdk* en them aloud, for he said—’ ‘I will, Bessy—God willing. I will pray for strength that I may.’ • Ho knelt there on the floor and pray ed—and I knelt beside him and took one of his hands in, both of mine. When we arose we - heard the first low washing of the water against the east side of the house, mingled with the louder rushing and brawling of the torrent • beyond!— When it grew so dark that I could not see Ben’s face, I lit a candle ; and wo sat there together in silence, I holding his hand. My heart was too full for speech, and Ben said nothing blit a word of com fort now and then. ‘There’s nothing for us.to do but stay here arid.hope for the best,’ho told mo once. And then added, ‘While there’s life there’s hope; and when there’s none, I’ll not leave, Bessy.' .Dear, noble Ben ! I wanted- to throw myself on his breast and tell him my se cret, but something prevented —X don’t know what-and I only pressed the hand that I held. • Tnere was no slackening to the river; it rose higher and higher every moment, and by ten o’clock the water washover the floor where we stood. Ben had car ried the trunks and the things I cared must for up stairs ; and then we took to the second story. Here wo stayed for two hours more, I listening all the time for. the sound of oars and voices, fort hoped that father would come aiul.OxOo ua off. Midnight oamo. and I grew im patient, and compiainingiy asked Ben if he could tell why father .did not come and rescue us. ‘l’m afraid I can, Bessey,’ heanswered with a grave face. ‘The great raft went down the river two hours ago; I heard the voices of men shouting, and 1 don’t doubt your father islanded away with the rest. But don’t be afraid; they’re all safe, f hope, and thej'Ml get to shore when morning comes.’ I couldn’t help crying .when he told me that, and I nestled up to him as if I bad been a child, and ho put his strong arm around me* It was not long after this that wo felt the house settling and Upping, and not much longer when it careened half-way over, and was whirled away into the river, by the torrent that had been undermining the foundation. That was an awful hour my lad ! Ben held one hand around me, and with the .other hand grasped the window sill, while ho braced his feet in the corner of the room ; and the’rlsiug.and falling of the poor wreck under.us, as the heavy current swept us along, gave moat first the feeling that we were going straight to the bottom. The wind moaned out side, the water beat against LUo planUn, and the beams cracked and gaped as though the poor old house was falling apart. Bong -before daylight we both saw it was settling down deeper and deeper into the water, which rose over the upper floor; and when Ben had suc ceeded in knocking out tbe skuttlo, he dragged mo out on -theroof—how, I don’t know. I only know that lie did it, and but for him my drowned body would have floated there in that old wrecked house when the morning came. , And I don’t know much about the rest of how that dreadful night passed. Ben sat upon the ridgepole, and held mo on by main strength; and in (he cojd and darkness I believe I slept; certainly I forgot where I was for a long time, ami forgot I was cold too. But then I didn’t know, until I woke up at broad daylight, that Ben had taken his coat off ami put it around my shoulders. Tbe house had sunk so low that one of the eaves \yna tipped clear out of the water, ami the other was three feet under.' We were drifting slowly down the : centre of the stream ; the shore was almost a mile off on either side, and % there was not a sail nor a sign of. help in sight. I looked at Ben perfectly hopeless and calm in mv despair, and he.looked back with hope and courage, ‘There’s cne hope yet, Bessy/ tie said, cheerily; and his finger pointed to an object floating ten rods behind us—an object the sight of which filled my heart with gratitude to God, that He had hoard and had answered our prayers. It was my father’s skiff, with the oars lying in the bottom of it, following along in our tracks as if to save us from destruction!! I understood at once how it was ! Jacob -Card4e-4Hia—diwvn" it up on life slionT after deserting us, and the rise of the flood had carried it out; and'falling into the strong current of the neck,-.which set towards the middle of the stream, It had followed us all night. Ben looked, wistfully at It, and measured with Ids' eye the distance to it. The roof to which we clung was alternately sinking and swaying, and the water sucked and ed died ominously around It. ‘This old thing can’t swim many min utes longer,’ he said. ‘Can you hold ou hero alone, Bessy, while I swim out to the skiff and bring it to you?’ He did not wait for me to reply, but lifted ino to the place where ho had sat, and showed mo how to grasp the bare rafter,.where the boards had been strained off. When he had done this, ho stopped, Just as ho was going to let himself Into the water, and looking at me with a tender, mourn ful look that I can never forget—-no, not If I should live to be twice fourscore—he said— ‘You’ll be safe In ton minutes, I hope; may God speed me, for your sake! Vet If anything should happen to either of us, that wo shouldn't meet again in tills world, I must toll you now, Bessy, that nobody - has loved you as I have—that nobody loves you now as I do. Believe mo, dear, for it is true.’ ‘I know it, Ben—l know it." I sob bed; and I put my face up to his. He bent over and kissed me, with such a look of mighty -surprise and overwhelming joy as I don’t believe any man ever had before; and crying out, ‘Hold hard, Bessy—hold fast, girl !’ he jumped into the river and struck out for the skill*. I did not tell him when he loft that r n . y J 1 * 111^8 we ro cold, almost numb ,• nud I held tight to tbo rafter, and watched iiim while the pain in my bauds and arms was distressing me sorely, I saw bim reach the skiff, and balance himself, a, !i l J abor Cftref «Ny over Us side to goCln without overturning it; aud when ho had accomplished this my strength was almost gone. My hands were giving, slipping: I made one lost spasmodic ef fort to retain my hold, and shouted wild " i°i J heard the splash of oars,* and his loud, cheery voice encouraging .me; darkness overtook me as my hands i slipped their grasp. Clutching at the I shingles, I slid downward, down, but not to my watery grave. The skiff shot past me. Ben Sample’s arm snatched mo from rny peril, and I Jay safely in the bottom of the boat, while his ‘ stout arms rowed me toward the shore. .Look there,’ he. exclaimed ; ami I |J| TQ y last at the poor old house.— Ihe roof heaved and settled, the waters washed up oyer it, and it sank in a wild whirlpool that sucked it down. That was the last of our danger. Wo got to the shore and found a house ; and belore night we had a chance to take a schooner up the river. In a day or two father came up with most of his men and such a meeting as We had I The rafl had been carried oil by the flood, as Bon thought, and two of the men had perish ed by drowning. And when I told him the true Story of our night in the house afloat, lie took Ben by. the hand, with tears in his eye**, and begged his pardon lor thinking that anybody could be bet ter than such a brave, noble fellow as he had proved himself. 'And especially that 'cowardly sneak, Cardie/ father milled, with a savage slap of his hand on his knees/ ‘Plague - fake mo! what a fool I would be, sometimes. It x had my own wu}’/ As for Jacob Cardie, I never heard a syllable more of him. j never wanted to. I am not sorry that I met him, foi he served to show me the difference be tween Ben Sample and the little croa Hies the world of fashion and wen calls men _ VV ell-a-day ! It’s many a long yeiir since then.; it's many a long year (hat I lived as Hie happy wife of that same Ben Sample, ami it’s not many sinceu God took turn before me. How old are you little Benny? Nine, Indeed.' Then lie died just nine years ago ; yon Were nam ed for him, boy, for you were horn the niorniug that he died. He was your own grand-father, little Ben ; and I can .give you no better wish than you may he as brave, ns strong and ns good a mail as was he.— Lipplneoll's Magazine. The History of Steam, Here we give a condensed history Of , steam. About 280 years before Christ ■ , Hiero,.of Alexandria, formed a toy which exhibited some of the powers of steam and was moved by its power. Six hun dred years later,'Anthemius, an architect arranged several caldrons of water, each coveredwith the wide bottom of a leath er tube which rose. to. a narrow top, with pipes extended to the rafters of the ad joining building. A fire was kindled under the caldrons, and the house was shaken by the.eflbrts of the steam ascend ing tiie tubes. This is the first notice of steam recorded. In 1343, Blasco D- Ga my tried a steamboat of 210 tons with tolerable success, at Barcelona, Spain. It consisted of a caldron of boiling water and a movable wheel on each side of the ship. It was laid aside as impracticable. A present, however, was in...;,, to To .1(550, the r>»t railroad was JcuetrSLlA cd at Newcastle on Tyne. The first idea of a steam engine in England was in the Marquis of Winchester’s ‘History of In ventions,' .1003. In 1710, Newcomen made the first steam engine. In 1718, patents were’granted to Savery for-the i first application of the steam engine in England, In 1701, James Watt made the first perfectsleam engine in England, i . In 1730, Jonathan Hulls set forth the idea of steam navigation. In 1778, j Thomas Paine first proposed this appii- , cation in America. In 1785, William | Tymington made a voyage in one on the Forth and Clyde Canal. In 1783, Ham- l sey propelled a boat l>y_steam to New ■! York. In 1783, John Fitch, of Philadel- < phia, navigated a boat by a steam engine ] on tiie Delaware. In 1792, Eobert Fui- i ton first Began to apply his attention to steam. A Itcniitiful Eiovo Story Tlie Count de Croix, belonging to ouo of Hie noblest and Wealthiest families of France, became engaged after a long courtship to a laity, his equal in position and fortune, and famous for her beauty. Shortly after the happy day was appoint ed, which was to render two loving hearts one, the Count was ordered immediately to the siege of Sebastopol ; so lie girded on ids sabre, and at the head of Ins regi ment marched to the battle field. Dur ing the Count’s absence, it happened that his beautiful atlinnced had thesmnll poxpand after hovering between life and death, she recovered, but found her beau ty hopelessly lost. The- disease hud as sumed, in . her case, the most virulent character, and left her not only disfigur ed, blit seamed and scarred to such a frightful extent that she became hideous to herself, and resolved to pass the re mainder of her days in strict seclusion. A year passed away, when one day the Count, immediately on Ids return to France, accompanied by his valet, pre sented himself at the residence of his be trothed, and solicited an interview. Tills was very naturally refused. He, ‘how ever, with the persistence of a lover, pressed his suit, and finally the lady made her appearance, very closely muf fled in a veil. At the sound of her voice; the Count rushed forward to embrace her, blit, stepping aside, she tremblingly told him the story of her sorrow, and burst into tears. A heavenly stride broke over the Count's handsome features, as, rais ing his hand above, he exclaimed, "It is God’s work! Jam blind!” It was even so. When gallantly leading his regi ment to the attack, a cannon ball passed so close to his eyes that, while it left their expression unchanged and his counte nance unmarked, It robbed him forever of sight. It is unnecessary to say that their marriage was shortly after solemn ized. It 1s said that, at tills dav, may bo often seen at the Emperor's receptions, an veiled lady, and they seem to bo attraetei to the spot by their love of music - ‘Sink Dik^— ln a Western Slate, a po litical party had for twenty years been In the habit of holding its nominating convention at the house of Mr. H. De cently. he happened, lor the first time, to be in whon they had finished their business, and heard a little delegate move, ‘thisconvention adjourn sine die!' ‘Sine die,' said Mr. H.’, to a person standing near ; ‘where's that?’ ‘Why, that’s away in the northern part of the county,’ said his neighbor. ‘Hold on, If you pllSse, Mr. Chair man,’ said the landlord, with great em phasis and earnestness-‘hold on, sir; I’d like.to bg heard on (hut question. I have kept a public house now for more than twenty years. I am a poor man. I have always belonged to the party, and never split in my life. This Is the most central location in the county, and it’s where wo’vo always met. I’ve never had nor asked for an office, and have worked day ami night /or' the party; and how I think, air, It in contemptible to go and adjourn this convention way up to sine die!’ At New Albany a lover was refused permission to see his .Sarah Jane, and was watched by the old folks and a bull-dog. Now, what did lie do Outgo the house armed with another dog, set the two to lighting, and while the old people were belting on their dog, he just look the girl out the back door, and before the light was over he had her all married as snug as possible, Tally one for the Hoosler. VOL. 56.--NO. 43. €A.\I2VE FIDEnTV. A French merchant having Home money duo him in a neighboring village, set out on horse-back, accompanied <by bis dog, in order to recover it. Having the business, ho sat out tor his I residence with the bag of money tied be fore him. The dog seemed to partake of I his master’s satisfaction. * I After riding somoaniles the merchant I alighted to rest in the shade, and taking 1 ibe bag of money In his hand, laid it down by bis side under a hedge, and, on remounting, forgot It. The dog, perceiv ing the forgetfulness, of his master, ran to fetch the bag, but ft was too heavy for him to drag along. Ho thou run buck to.his muster, and, by whining, barking and howling, teem ed to endeavor to remind him of ids mis take. The merchant did not understand his language, but the faithful creature persevered in his efforts, and trying to stop the horse in vain, at Inst began to Into bis heels. The merchant, absorbed in deep thought as ho rode along, and wholly forgetful of Ida bag of money, began, to think the dog was mad. Full of tills suspicion, in crossing a brook he turned to see if the dog would drink ; but the faithful animal, too intent on its master’s business to think of itself, continued to j bark and bite with greater violence than before. f ‘Mercy!’ cried the afflicted merchant, ‘it must bo so; my poor dog is certainly mad ; what must I do ?. I must kill him, lest some greater misfortune befall me; but with what regret! Oh, could I find any one to perform this.cruel cilice for me! But there is no time to loose; f, myself, may become the victim, if Isparo him.’ With these words lie took a pistol from Ida pocket, and, with trembling hand, took aim at Ida faithful servant. He turned away In agony as he fired, but his aim was too sure' The poor animal fell wounded nud weltering in his blood; still endeavoring' to crawl towards his master, as if to tax him with ingratitude. The merchant could not bear the sight. He spuired on Ids horse with a heart full ofsorroWf and lamented he had taken a journey which had coat him s > dear. , Still, however, the money never enter ed his mind,- be only thought of his poor dog, arid tried to console himself with the reflection that he had prevented a greater evil, by despatching a mad ani mal. than he had suffered a calamity by his loss* But such thought gave him little satis faction. /I am most unfortunate,’ said he to himself.; ‘I would id moat rather .have lost my money than my dog.’ ■ Saying this he stretched out his hand to grasp the treasure. It was missing ; no bag was to bo found. In an instant he opened his eyes to ids rashness and folly/ ‘Wretch, that I am,’ said he, ‘I alone am to blame. I could not understand the meaning of my dog r s actions, and I have killed him forzCal, Ho only wished to inform Ine of my mistake, and ho has paid for his fidelity with his life.’ Instantly he turned his horse, and went off at a full gallop to the. place where he had stopped. He saw with half-averted eyes the scone whete the tragedy was acted; he perceived the traces of blood as lie proceeded; he was oppressed and distracted ; but in vain did he look for his dog, he was not to be seen on the road. At lust he arrived at the spot where lie had left his money. 'Bn* wh«t were his MnaaUf**?** t Wio J»cai t >vaa ra u .l v l«\ ■ njoc-a with the sight that uren met ms view. The poor dog, nnabje to follow his dear but cruel master, had determin ed fo orlve his last momenls to his service, lie had crawled, all bloody as he whs, to the forgotten bag, and ’ now, in (ho agonies of death, ho lay watching beside When he saw his.master lie still testi fied liia joy hy the wagglin' of his tail.— He could do no more, ho tried to raise, hut nis strength was gone; even the caresses of his master could not prolong ids life fof a few: moments -* He stretched out his tongue to lick"the hand that was now fondling him in the agonies of regret, ns if to seal forgiveness of tlie deed that had deprived,him of life. Ho then cast a look of kindness oh his master and closed his eyes in,death. A Wain log 1« Young: Men .Nicotine is the active principle in to bacco, and in a concentrated form is cue of tlie most virulent poisohs known. Not withstanding this fact, entirely 'different opinions have been entertained by the most respectable medical authorities re specting the eilect of*tobaeco on the sys tem; many asserting .that its use in any form is baneful in the extreme, while others-contend that a moderate indul gence in the liarcotie weed Is not only harmless, but positively beneficial to tlie health. The truth is that the eflect it produces on different constitutions'is va rious. Some people may-a mo ice almost continuously without exhibiting any ill effects, while others are sensibly affected by the usoof two or three cigars a day. A Cigar is more likely to,injure one than n pipe, because tlie cigar discharges directly into the mouth of the smoker everything that Is produced hy tlie burning. And there are those who, front an over indul gence in the questionable habit, live in a constant state of narcotism, or narcotic drunkenness, to the serious detriment o( Iheir mental organizations. Perhaps no stronger argument against tlie excessive use of tobacco could-ho pro duced than that afforded by tlie melan choly example of a man of tlie highest position, whose case is now exciting great alarm in the minds of his friends. This Individual, whose name we suppress from motives of delicacy, only eighteen mouths ago was in the full possession of vigorous intellectual powers, and was the ohiectof general regard. For the last year,' how ever, he lias smoked so incessantly that, ns a natural consequence, his facilities ap pear to lie rapidly failing him, and the gravest apprehensions are entertained lest he should finally fall into a condition of absolute insensibility. This sad case Should" bo a warning to young men,— New York bvn- An Imsjt Kkmc.-A child, while play ing near Drogheda, Ireland, found a cu rious piece of metal, which she gave to woman, who took It to a dealer Jjl an o -old' huh mill gut a shilling lor it 7 The dealer, in his turn, sold it for two pounds and u half, and it has finally been pur chased for tho Roj’id liish Academy in Dublin for $.'500. It proved to be the cel ebrated Tarn Brooch, one of the most re markable pieces of goldsmith's work that Is known to exist. It is formed of while brown, and this probably saved it from the melting-pot, to which countless trea sures of gold and silver have been con signed. The surface is overlaid with gold filigree work, of surprising Intricacy and marvellous delicacy of execution. Such is Us excellence, that one of the most ac complished living that he could not find a workman, with every apparent advantage of modern knowledge and appliance, competent to make such another. NKVVSPAI'KIIS and Intelmoewce.— f Wherever I Imvo wandered, In my mis sionary labors, whether in the East or West, North or South, I have always ob served Hint where the newspaper was taken by the family, there thrift, moral ity and general Inteirigence yeto to bo found. In the log cabins of the West, us soon as my eye caught sight of the newspaper, I thought to myself: '• Hero at least I will find morality, intelligence, courtesy, and welcome, as well as a gar den ripe to receive tb,o gospel seed!" and I was seldom mistaken. On the con trary, where neither newspapers nor good books were to ho seen, there igno rance, bigotry, superstition and grossness were found in all their forma. Yes I have often thought that tiro newnimper was the pioneer of civilization, and did much to make the wuy easy for tho suc cessful labors of tho home missionary. Kates for advertisedKNTu will bo inserted at Ton Cop per lino for the first insertion and flvo.coi por lino for each subsequent Insertion. Qua orly half-yearly, and yearly advertisements It sorted at a liberal reduction on tholabove raU- Advertisements should bo accompanied by th Cash. Wnopsent without any length of tlm speclflcd for publication, they \fill bq continue! until ordered out and cnarged accordingly. CAUns, HANDurnns, Ciroulabs, and every ott er description of Jon and Card Printing. ©rms at mtetatute. HOOD OS DUJSU.VQ, Tom Hood describes nu Intended duel which was prevented by an amicable arrangement made upon tbegronud. Thopanles-Mr. Hradly and Mr. Clay-rivals for tho affections of Lucy nell, flud it necessary to appeal to arms: Hut Unit they found a friend apiece. This plersaut though! to give : That when they both were dead, they'd have Iworccond, yetto live. To measure out the ground not long Tho seconds next before, And having taken ono rash step They took-a dozen more.' I hey next prepared each pistol-pun Against tho deadly strife Hy putting In tho prime of death Against tho prime of life. Now nil was ready for the foes; - Hut when they took their stands, Lear made them tremble, ho they found They botli were shaking Jiotul.t, Said Mr. C. to Mr. 13.. “ilei e one of us must full, _ ' And, like St, Paul’s Cathedral now He doomed.to have a halt. ‘I do confess I did attach Misconduct to your name*; 1 1 withdraw tho charge, will then \ our ramroil do tho .sumo'.”' “juld Mr. 13., -j do agree— Hut think of Honor’s courts If we be oil"without a shot, r I hen* will he strong reports. •Hut look .’ the morning now is bright Though cloudy It begun, Why can’t we nlm above, as If We had called out the sun ?• ' •“o up Into (he harmless air ' Their bullets they did send And many other duels have That in tho end. • iS clos . e ' very close-but not quite close enough for us to grasp at. is nfwmslT k SKCnin 3 thinks it draw* an artist. “■ aCt ° r Wh ° doea not I ' lvn ; i ' l!n Iliz y man does all his ending m tho nulumn, because the sea iou turus the leaves. An author says.,that one of the uses of adversity is to bring us out. That is Uno-part'cnlariy at the knees and el- 110 li l evo d that Cowper was a I* ice Masou, as ho wislied to erect a lodge in some wilderness.’ feo.UK horrid .man’ says that in the present style of dressing young ladies I *, hair, it is hard to tell which is switch. " ? ntlr ? /; s , 3e,s of a recent bankrupt neiu nine children. The creditors acted magnanimously, and Jet him keejithem. The Saratogians say if the liens would uoas mucli ‘laying around’as the loaf ers of that (own do, eggs would be as plenty as bank robberies. It is said some babies are so small that rbey can creep into quart measures.— " U -V, iu wliloh some adults can walk into such measures, is astonishing. Why is a man wiio spoils his children •C another who builds oastiesdu the Because he indulges in-fancy to air? luuc! vt hkn U .young may offers lo"hem a eamhnu handkerchief f»rn rich bachelor she means (o sow in order that sho mnv 1V»*1 II J W oitc-MSTEit, Hass., lias a greater cu riosity (ban the Cardiff Giant. It is a sick young lady who lias been attended hy thirteen, physicians, and now con valesrent! U hat is that which a man don’t want and struggles against having us long us possible, but whop lie ouee gets it would not part with it for all the world? A bald head. A sotmiKKX paper, announces that nothing but red neck lies are now worn.’ which must be a rather cooi costume for Is season, even at the South. ‘Uerty, my dear,’ said a Sabbath school teacher to one of her class ‘you were a very good.little girl to-day.’— ‘Yes’m—l couldn’t help bein’ good; I got a Hi ITneck,’ said (.-Jertv, with, perfect seriousness. ‘Silence in the court room, there,’ thundereda police magistrate, the other morning; ‘the ’ court has. already- com mitted lour prisoners without being able to hear a word of the testimony.’ Tin; treasurer of a church in Sioux City was startled the other night to find one of his pewholders come in and join his party in playing fmo. Neitberspoke until No. il pushed some chips across the table, ami said, quietly, ‘Johu, just give me credit for that amount upon my pew ll ecentlv a rector of u parish in Tole do, Ohio,- in catechising hia Sunday school, asked : ‘Where did the wise men come from?’ Without a moments hesi tation the answer came loom a little live year old, ‘From Boston !’ The father and mother of the little catechumen are na tives of the Bay State. Oim language only reaches Us perfect richness in. the West. If a girl has blue eyes, it is reported that ‘she wears blue orbits.’ If a man is fearless, they say •he don’t scarce worth a cent.’. ‘ls your house a warm oue, landlord?’ asked a gentleman, in search of a house. ‘lt ought to bo,’ was the reply. ‘The painter gave it two coats recently.’ The statement Is made that during: one of Prince Arthur’s receptions in Washington a well known matron went among the girls exclaiming: ‘Blusbjalit tle! blush a little! it will look more English !’ . A. kuiend qsked a little girl, 'which do you love best; your cat or your doll?’ The little girl thought-some time before answering, and then whispered in the car of hia questioner: T iove my cat best, but please dony tell dolly.’ get you a partner. Languid Swell •Thank you, but I-ar—don't dance.’— Host: ‘Then Jet me introduce you to Mias Twaddle; she's a great hand at conversation.’ Languid Swell: ‘You are very kind, but I -ur never converse.’ The man who lives alone is apt to for get the individuality of others, the.man who lives in society is apt.to forget his own ; the former becomes egotistic, the latter impertimenl; the one is scornful, the other undlgnilied. A Naiikow Escape.— A Milesian, born on the last day of the year, felici tates himself on bis narrow escape from, not beinjr boro at all. ‘Be Jabers,’ says he,' and if it had been the next day, what would have become of me?' ‘Bo iys,’ naked the teacher of an infant Sunday School class, 'did you over see an elephant's skin?' 'Ycs| elr, I did,’ piped n little fellow, away down at the foot, ‘Did you, Robert ? Whore was It ?’ ‘On an elephant, sir.' A hushand advertises thus : ‘My wife Maria has strayed or been stolen.’ Who ever returns tier will gel Ins heattf&*%e. As to trusting her, anybody they see lit; lor us I never pay wydwn debts, it’a not likely I’ll pay her's?'* . „ ' A PREVALENT, yCOMI'LA INT." — r l‘- am troubled with a strange kind of rheumat ic allecllon In my unn,|;saida well Unosvn but rather seedy wit, the other day, to a Miend. *lt allows me to do' fjome things, but it prevents mo from doing others; for Instance, l ean put my hand in my pocket with all the ease in the world, but I never cun take anything out.* JOB PRINTING, .'-•I ■ ■ v I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers