ij ()c American Doluntecr. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BRATTON Sc • KENNEDY, OFFICE-SOUTH MABHET SQUARE. mantra .—Two Dollars per year If paid strictly Two Dollars and Fifty rents If paid ,n three montha: alter which Three Dollars i h«ohßree«l. Thpro uirmj will bp rlslrtly ad- loin every Instance. No subscription dit>- b .inniwl until all arrearages are paid, nuless at KfflS of the Editor. ptcifesistoiial (ffatUs. r p mrAfßimr. • i wm. b. barker. IVuMBIGH & PARKER, H ATTORNEYS AT hA TTr Ofßofl on Mala Street, la Marloa Hall, Car* ll jte’o. P 2 U isns- ' ■ tjnited states claim AI{D BEAL ESTATE AGENCY! M. B. BUTLER, ATTORNEY AT PAW, nfflceln 2d Story of InhofTa Bulldlnß.No.BSouth Hanover Street; CarllslOj Cumberland county * Bounties, Back Pay, Ac., promptly C Alligations by mall, will receive immediate al ffldnilVar attention given to the spiling orrent inffof Real Estate, In town or country. In all let fprsoflnnulrv, please enclose postage stamp, jniy n. ißff7—if ri E. BELTZIIOOVKR, 'ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, CARLISLE. Pa.'. tep'Olßro on South Hanover Street, opposite Bentz’« dry goods btore. 4*Dpc. 1. IWfi. WM. J. SHEARER, Attorney AND CouNSßi«W)iy at Law, has removed hlfl ofllro to the hitherto unoccupied room in the North R'i»t corner of the Court House. Jan. 28, 'fift—lv . - ' • WJ KKNNEDYV Attorney at Law W , Carlisle. Penna.' Olllce saiho na that ol Iho “American volunteer.” Dec. 1 180 U FAMES u. GRAHAM, Jk., • ATTORNEY AT LAW, NO. 14 SOTUH HANOVER ST., CApi.ISLE, PA. , OFFICE— Adjoining Judge Graham’s. March 81, IWU-tf *TTI L. BHRYOOK, Justice of the hi, Peace. Olllce No 8, Irvin’s Row. Carlisle. April 29, ISM—ly . - £R. GEORGE S. BEARIGHT, Den tist. Frtrm the Baltimore Cntteue of Dental trw. Office at the residence of his mother East fjouther Street, throe doors below Bedford Carlisle, Penna. Dec. 1 1805. B. REYNOLDS, M. D; Graduate of HAHNEMANN MEDICAL COL LEGE, Philadelphia. . OfTlro, West Leather St., at residence of his mother. Carlisle. Jim© U. 70—ain* 1 ER. I. Y. REED, Homeopathic Phy rtlcliiu, has located In Carlisle, Olllco next r to St. Paul's livaimllicftl Church, West Leather street. Patipnta from a distance please call In the fnronoon. March 17, lb7*)- irloudswuo don’t want to flcpesteroil with candidates. ' Maccn ld. itfyb—Uni. ADAM DY.SERT. . , . . . . . . • . t 1 . • ‘) • I e 1 . v , : 1 t Ir.: . 1,„ ~...„ ._. , ~ . .. .. ~ v , .. .• , . it .. , 4 ~ I, ilk t ., N: j . triet f 1 , .. . .11 .. ~ .. . , . v 1 I ti utter BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. JDn) Moolis. QHEAP DRY GOODS, CHEAP DRY GOODS, AT THE NEW STORE, D. A. SAWYER, D. A. SAWYER, Irvine's Corner. . ..Irvine's Comer. Bargains In LAWNS, GRENADINES. • HERNANIS, • -* BEREGE3, LACE POINTS, • HUMMER SHAWLS, LACK CURTAINS. PARASOLS, PANS, &c. Piques, Marsaiiles, LOOK AT THE PRICES. CALICOES, CV£, 8. • 10, VTA, MU LINS. (itf, H. 10, VTA, GINGHAMS, VJA, 14, 15, 17, TICKINGS, H. • 18, 22, ' 2.' Cheapest Pants Stall » In the town Cheapest Cloths and Casahnors In fho town Cheapest Hosiery In tho town Cheapest Gloves and Handle’s, In the town Cheapest Notions, all kinds in tho town DRESS GOODS., Cheapest DoLalnea In tho town Cheapest Poplins -in the town Cheapest Alpaccus block A qol'd In the town Cheapest Pluck y rubbing her eyes and giving musical little yawns—occa sionally varying the performance bv stroking her shoulders, as if coaxing off the rheumatism. * At this juncture mv handkerchief had almost disappeared in my mouth, and both hands were dapped to my sides, to prevent explosion which might give warning to the enemy that I was in am bush ; for I was bound to discover where that pair of pearl-shaped gutta-percha ar ticles went, on M'iss Melbourne. While waiting for that denouncement, I beheld what surprised me still more.— As I live, Miss Melb< time reached down and brought from under the bed an artifi cial lepl I always noticed a fault about her walk, but T thought It was au atterant at the ‘Grecian wiggle,’ so fashionable nowa-daya. At this juncture T was shaking visibly, and the handkerchief performed but half duty, for te-he was audible several times. Just then appeared my dear Frank in the garden below, and commenced pelt ing me with gravel stone. Saucy fellow t«» take advantage of my powerless posi tlon. __ . • ‘Qond morning,’ he shouted ; but I only shook my head at him and placed my fingers on my lips. 4 What arc you doing at that window ? Where are vom slippers?’ were theques tions* that followed when I .enjoined si lence. 1 Turning round to give him a frown, and show my displeasure In the mo-*t ef ficient and silent manner, I beheld him clambering up the trellis saying— ‘lfthere’s anything special to see, 111 see R.* „ I leaned over the edge of the piazza, and took out my penknife and embroid ery slsaors my only weapons. ‘‘Now, Frank/ I whispered, ‘if you don’t get down immediately, I II cut your Anger and clip your moustache.— • And as Tie was still rebellious, I su'ted the action to the word nnd drew blond on that dear hand, and dipped off the turn ing up hairs of the extremity of his uioUHtncho. 0 ‘By Jove!’ he exdalraed, as be wiped the wounded baud on njy span clean white wrapper. . With.that I gave him a gentle push which considerably accelerated his down ward movement. . . Once safe on the ground he looked up, his face filled with alarm. ‘What alls you Kate? gone crazy t looking in people's windows, slashing olr without mercy, a fellow's whiskers, and chopping up. his bauds 1 what In time is “‘‘Now. Frank,’ I whispered, ’go away, be u good boy. lam making a disc >ve ry. I will tell you all about it bye and bye/ and back, I tripled to thei blinds. Miss Amanda was now adding the filial BY FUEBE CARY. CARLISLE, PA., AUGUST 4, 1870. finishing touch to her bead gear, and py heart sank for fear those mysterious jir tides had dope, tbelr duty. No, flipro thev were,on the bureau.and Miss Aman da took them up and slipped both Into her mouth—one each side! Then line- held a sudden plumpness to her face the mystery wag out; and I left just the rabbit’s paw descended to the < box. ’ I ‘Humph!’ I ejaculated, as I enb my own window, ‘she stretches cheeks over them.,to paint more ens Just as an artist stretches bis canvass 1 frame ’ But what a predicament I was in I wrapper must be changed.’ My hail In Disorder.whftro little slivers in! blinds had caught It; my pet ham chief, with Its red stripe and fluted der, very much resembled a dishol but. It was worth it —the discovery I made was of Inestimable value to m< Frank was. my lover and a (tear ond one,. My uncle Henry was Mies del bourne’s lover. This was my unle’e house, and Miss Melbourne was her on a visit. Uncle Henry had met h«rat some watering place, and she vated his bachelor heart, and thouglme was fifty-five he appeared as foo isb o\or her as my Frank did over me. Bhe was very rich, and f sometim® thought her estate on the banks of tie Hudson, where he had vi-ited her seve ral times, weighed something in the bri ance, with uncle’s love; but If so. ,b didn’t betray. They were soon marriei, and she had'shown considerable rity in the ’house whose mistress I had been so lone, and moreover, had turned up her nose a little higher thau natun mode it to turn at my Frank. ‘A graceless scamp,’ I heard her any : one evening, to Undo Henry, *ls tha boy who visits Kate.' Explanation Frank covered her poodle with burs, am Miss Melbourne’s mold was two dnva ex trading them from his fleecy covering add.she .knew the culprit. ‘Yea,’ sh< continued, 'a graceless scamp, and Hnr, ry, deaK (my dignified uncle ‘Harry dear!’.) if he is to become a member o your family, 1 think I shall go back ic. Maple Hall (her home), and. resign my sweet hope.’ A short argument here ensued, but un cle got the heat of It. Peeing which way the wind blew she Anally sided round, and concluded.to look over Frank’s, mis demeanors, with the tirinl hurst of, — ‘T alwaj'S did hate a West Point popin jay I there were several at Haratocra last summer; but TMI never loov.c nnr. cent of property to her if she marries him.— I haven’t a relation in the world, hut I'll found a hospital before heshall.Bqunndeii my money after I’m gone.’ A flood of tears would have followed ! she had not been afraid of the paint; n it was she carried tier handkerchief b her eyes, and gave a couple of hysterica sobs.that would have done justice to i first-class act ess on the,stage. Hereupon my Uncle Henry stroke! that wig—l wish it had dropped off—ani said,— ! •I’ll see about. it’ So *we were enemies, she and I, that moment. If I could get her out o' the house and uncle disenchanted. That evening I unfolded our prospects to Frank, and we knew, in words, many a military plan to rout the enemy, and gain our old ground with uncle, for he certainly showed signs of going over with the old maid, in opinion And he even called my dear Frank, Mr. Thornton, on several occasions. Now if there was anything uncle de sjltsed H was deception. ‘ J **Dou’t’ he exclaimed, once to me, when Tie caught me crimping mv hair. ‘Yod can’t add to the beauty of those beavj black braid? by those frivolous cHmpjf stuck upon ynvr bend. Be natural, gtrl.l ■ And he wos going to marry a w man so natural ! what would he do, the first, morn of '.he honeymoon, to find Mis* Melbourne so transformed ! bald headed- , one-legged, bleached eye-winkers, _ and without those—the—the—that pair of things! So f thought, ns f donned a fresh dresy, smothered mv hair, and opened my drawer for a clean handkerchief. Then I went down stairs. T There was no one about, save the ser vant letting the sunlight Into the draw ing room, and dusting the furniture; so. I stepped out to find Frank, and disclose. I caught the glitter of brans buttons through the shrubbery, and ran round a turn In the walk to meet him. ‘0 FrankT I hegan.bntsnddenly ed, for that was not ray Frank. ‘Beg pardon,’ he said; bowing low, ‘but Is Mr. Thornton in ?' Then he grabbed me, and kinned me. I was'on the point of screaming for Frank, Uncle Harry. MUs Melbourne, and the whole! household, ns visions of murder, abduction, etc., flitted through my brain, when Frank’s old musical laugh rang out, and.he exclaimed, — I ‘How do you like a kiss without fl moustache?’ . , ‘Mercv I’ I exclaimed, ‘are you renlw Frank Thornton ? Such a homely mat, my dear Frank? Oh. denrl how yfu look without a moustache; Pve invital my cousin Madeline from New York,|o visit us, and she will see you. and Ip told her how much you look like X»ofi9 Napoleon! Oh,'dear, what madeyoujlo it?’ i ‘I only cutTofF half,’ he smilingly tfi* swered—it was a real sweet smHe he hdl; I had never seen the whole of it befoij— ‘this side,’ and he pointed lo the left site of his upper lip, ‘You cut the oilier yourself. Do you suppose that I Was going about one-sided?’ I ‘Now T got used to it,’ and I stopped to take a criticizing view, ‘I don’t mini It so much ; but let It grow as soon as ioa sihle, for it was your moustache I fel in love with.’ fj _ . . He knew I liked it; and cut it oi to plague me I know; fori shall alwnysle dare I only clipped theends; why dhu t he trim the other side to match? ‘Never mind, now; I’ve got sometime to tell you,’ I said, ns I sat down on the grass. Frank sat down opposite, and cjm menced to rock to and rro putting ortnis tongue, and exclaiming. ‘ond-er, and'er. In imitation of the way young ladies\eil a confidential story to each other. ‘Well, vou tell the story.’ I said. •Dear Kate. I am all attention,’ aid he leaned back nonchalantly ; and strok ed his-upper Up! , . _ _ ‘Bless me, Kate!’ he exclaimed, wish that I had a moustache; I ahan - know what do with my hands.’ , •Well. Miss Melbourne is not Miss Mol bourne,’ I said. ‘Who in the deuce is she then ? Mn Henry Wayland?’ And Frank starte up In alarm. ‘No, nor ever will be,’ I answered, am Frank fell'back on his elbow. ‘She I an old woman of sixty, ami she paints ‘I always knew that,’ he interrupted.- ‘I naked her to smell the new, dellcloa perfume on my handkerchief, and pres* ed it against her cheek, to see what wa wuat.’ ‘No wonder, she hates yon. you sauc fellow,|and.' I resumed, ‘she wears fals teeth* upper and lower set, and *T know, that too,’ he Interrupted.— •The unperset drbpped down the othe day, at the table, and clicked on her tea cup .while drinking. 1 ♦And,’ T again commenced, ‘she wear.- false hair— * ‘I knew that too,’ho exclaimed. That port of bandalette she wears got moved a little, and the wig slipped, and I saw u patch of shaved head hereand he point ed to thatportiou of, his head where the parting commenced. ‘And,* I said, holding my patience, for a woman always gels vexed, when she finds out that she cannot astonish h such an instance, ‘she wears two things, in her mouth! 1 I paused to witness the effect,of such an announcement. ; ‘Plumpers, Jove!’ and Frank rolled; over on the grass, and roared. i ‘Well, if you know so much about' Miss Melbourne, you may toll the rest,’ 1 exclaimed thorougly vexed. .‘Dear Kate, gh ou. False hair, teeth, paint and whitewash, I knew she had; Init the plumpers; and he burst into another roar until I warned him to be mreful, and not burst off any of those brass buttons. • ‘I was eutlrely ignorant of the .plum pers, and any thing further,* he answer ed soberly. l‘Well,’ I said, rising, ‘I shall not tell ybu the rest. [Then I just walked ofTintotho house, ajid Frank, rather crest-fallen, came after. Breakfast was ready, and Uncle Way laud had already escorted Miss Mel bourne to the breakfast room. A crisp good morning was ali lie deigned Frank and I. Miss Melbourne could afford to smile a little* as undo was gradually being won over to her side, so she looked over her shoulder as she parsed through the door and said,— *A beautiful morning. Hr. Thornton.’ ‘But not more lovely than yourself. Miss Melbourne,’ he answered, gallantly bowing low to keep from'laughing; for I pinched his elbow, and asked him if he knew how much the plumpers were a set. A compliment told on Miss Melbourne, it almost counter-balanced the poodle burs, etc., and when lie invited her and uncle join us in a sail that afternoon, she exclaimed,.that she should be very happy. During breakfast I could not keep my eyes from her, wondering ho v she engi l • peered all those things. Bless die ! how could I eat toast, talk and laugh, at the same lime, with thirty-two bought teeth, and those other things; all to be kept straight! I think I should sit still and decline fond on the plea of sickness, and try the power of suction to Us uttermost.. She began tc look like a woman of ge nius to me. As we arose from the table I saw by various signs such -as pointing your thumb over your shoulder, and jerking your head .in .a certain direction, that Frank wanted .mo to step out into the garden again instead of joining Miss Melbourne, as I usually did for an hour or so every morning. , ‘Now,’ said Frank, as we stooped down ostensibly to examine a certain. flo,\y.pr within (he border, for Uncle Henry and Miss Melbourne; came out immediately behind us, the morning was so tempting. ‘l’ve got a splended plan, and we’ll make kit work to a charm.’ [ Then ho hurriedly n>v llu- -p«*»■*' T was to perform. I clapped my hands and exclaimed, — ‘ ‘Grftoll ! good !’ . •What is It that pleases you so; Miss Kate?’ simpered Miss Melbourne, as she swept by on uncle’s arm. ‘Oh, nothing,’ l answered, ‘only’Frank says you look-younger than I do; ami I know I am twenty-two years your ju nior. Frank, sotio voice, ‘lf not fifty.’ Mias Melbourne smiled sweetly on Frank, hut , uncle frowned: He knew Frank thought anything but that, and did not relish the ‘goak.’ But the plan !. let It unfold itself. We had dined; and I was in my chamber airing for the sail. I should have worn my pretty laced boots and made Frank carry me over -the wet places, usually, .but now I put mmy rubber ones. 1 should have worn tiy gipsy hat with its vine of green eaves, usually, but now I wore las* summer's ancient affair, and look off my empire head dress, rings and watch, for I had a pare to perform that after noon. I met Miss Melbourne in the drawing l*oorp, radiant with tr« t-h paint, a rich India shawl wrapped about tier, iviy coiHClence smote me. • VMtv do you wear thatshawl madam?’ lasted. ‘You may soil it.’ Fmnk got behind,her and shook his hea«i;di»approvingly at me. ‘Sji is rich eWugh to get another,’ he whirred, as Miss Melbourne took a part/ig survey ut.herself before tbe mir ior:/and if you say anything more like tha/you will explode tbe whole con cert.’ •fou don’t look near as pretty as that ha*,’-said Miss Melbourne tome, draw i lid on her lavander kids. y don’t care.’ I replied, ‘lf Frank don’t. I jv as afraid if we lingered till nightfall tip. dampness might take the stiffness oit of the other.’ j What a lie! but it was necessary to our plan. Ho we crossed the fields and came in light of the river. Miss Melbourne and Uncle Wayland were ahead and we cul prits brought up the rear several paces tehind. ‘Kate,’ said Frank, ‘you can fib with the most innocent look of anyone I ever saw. Kee Miss Melbourne’s silk aiid that pattern hat. How is..-your cournge now?’ ; ‘My courage is all right, hut It is kind of too h&l Isn’t it?’ and I looked rather wavcnngly up in bis facts ; ‘Now Kate,’ said he gravely, ‘we’ve planed and we must execute. We both hide her; she hates us. If we can hurry lier hack to Maple Hill let’s do it. Ojicc place her in a ridiculous light before Mr. Wayland, and his love will go down to zero, if not lower.’ ‘Well,’ X assented, ‘go ahead, I will be prepared.’ We were now at the boat. Miss Mel bourne was handed in and seated, and I sat down demurely by her side. Frank and uncle used all their strength to push off, and soon we glided down the stream, and sailed till the'pile of clouds i|i the west were crimson tluted by the setting sun. Miss Melhourne hinted at return, ns al ready the early duo began to tell on her bonnet strings, so we turned about. We were then within a half-mile of landing. The wind seemed suddenly to get fresh and flap our sail, w hich was propitious for our plan. • Nearer and nearer wo came to the shore, and I knew that the moment was fast approaching by the stern look that settled on Frank’s face. Another flaw of wind, a mismanagement of the sail known only to Frank, and over went the boat. A scream from Miss Melbourne, and she was splashing in toe water; I was an expert swimmer, and grasped Miss Melbourne about her waist with one hand while, Frank righted the boat and clambered in. Uncle came up on Miss Melbourne’s other side. His sole anxie. ty was for her, knowing I was a perfect duck iu the water. Frank grabbed Miss Melbourne first by her waterfall, but ales! her one hun dred and ten avoirdupois could not be held by a dozen halrpius; but there Frank stood in the boat, with a waterfall iii Ids hand, minus a head. Quick ns thought he threw it overboard, and grabbed Miss Melbourne’s front hair.— Alas ! of!* that came, and Frank, stand lug in tho boat looked like an Imliau chief fresh from a scalping expedition ; and Miss Melhourne. looking like*any thing but a watersprite, threw her head Lack on the bosom of uncle’s whitecoat which was already pink with the fastly disappearing bloom of Miss Melbourne’s checks, ami fainted. Her mouth opened, and Franklin hie frantic endeavors to save her, somehow or thonther got his fingers into hpr mouth, ami extracted both sets of her teeth, and Miss Melbourne, incapable of longer suction, let the plumpers roll out upon Uncle Waynard's breast. j l guess the spark of uncle’s love went put with the plumpers, for he smiled* /and said: „ . fVI . ‘Frnnk, ifyou can find nplace that will hold, pull her in.’ ‘Bolter let her drop,’ ventured the saucy Frank, pausing a moment as If for consent, anti then bo took her in his arms* and laid her at the bottom of the boat. . , lt Undo and I were In a jiffy, with tho helping hand of Frank. There lay Mlt-s Melbourne, shorn of all her glorv, and I was just thinking I would (ell undo about the other artificial article When Frank exclaimed : ‘For heaven’s sake what is that? 1 There was Miss Melbourne’s artificial leg lying two feet away from tier, on the bottom of the boat and. under uncle’s feet; In the rush it hud become uu fast ened. ‘Good Heavep’s!’ exclaimed uncle, 'will this woman come ail to pieces be fore we can get her home?’ ‘l’ll run home and bring down n bush el basket to convey her in,’said the cruel Frank. ‘I guess there is about two pecks of her whou we come to gather up the fragments.’ i , Wo landed before Mias Melbourne came to herself. Uncle had gouefor the carriage. I guess he did not care to bo proseht when she revived. She partially opto ed her eyes and said: ‘Where am I ?’ • ‘Calm yourself, ray dear madam,’ said Frank, soothingly. ‘A part of you is here, a part drowned, arid ’ But she heard no more, for clapping her hands on her head, and gnashing her uuras, she collapsed again. Uncle came back In a few... moments and w© entered our carriage, and were driven rapidly homeward. She revived, coming up the avenue, but ‘pliancy her phelinks,’ as uncle lift ed her to the house, to see Frank coming along withthe logon his shoulder and saying.: 'I am sorry, my dear madam, this ac cident occurred. That flaw of wind took me unawares. But, tUank Heaven, you a.©safe.’ It is needless to add that- Miss Mel bourne departed ns soop as recuperated energies cuine, and refused to see uncle at all, of which' he was heartily glad ; and t don’t think he baa scaicely looked at a woman since. , A few days after, Frank came in and '*brew something on my lap. I took it up. thinking it was a pretty shell,-and lo! if was a glass eye; ‘Where did this come from?’ I ex claimed, dropping it. ‘Why, X was bailing out the boat, and found that in the bottom. 1 guess she deigned fainting to hide the hole this fitted! 1 .said he, placing it among the shells on the whatnot. ‘As a work of art I admire that wo man,’ he said, after a pause, ‘but ns one of nature's beauties I admire ray Kate.’ And he dropped on his knees at my side. Christmas came and and .a wedding. Wn would have h*’^ n niurrlcil ÜBforß, nut I wa'ted tor a husband with a moustache. It had got back to its old proportions, and I had the felicity of bearing Cousin Madeline say: ‘Oh, Isnt, be handsome ?’ Curiosities of llrcntrtlnjf. The taller men are, other.thlnga being equal, the more lungs they have, and the greater number of cubic inches of air they can take in or deliver ata single breath, it is thought that a man’s lungs are sound and well developed, In proportion to the girth around the chest; yet observation shows that slim men, a« a-rule. will run faster and furthe*, with less fatigue, having ‘more wind,’ than stout men. If two persons are taken in all respects alike, except that one mens- ires twelve Inches more around thechest than the other, the one having the ex cess will not deliver more, at owe full breath, by mathematical measurement than the other. The more air a man receives into his lungs in ordinary breathing, the more healthy. he is likely to be; because an important object in breathing is to re move impurities from the blond. Each : i.runt 11 is (Jftiwn pure into.the lungs; mi Its outgoing the.next instant, It is so im pure, so perfectly destitute of nourish ment. (hat. if rebreathed without any mi mixture of pure atmosphere, the man would (lie. Hence, one of the condition* necessary to secure a high state of healjh is. that "the rooms in which we sleep should he constantly receiving new sup n'ics of fresh air. through open doors, windows, or fire places. If a person’s lungs are not well, devel opment may be Increased several inches inn few 1 months by dally outdoor run nings with the mouth closed, beginning with twenty yards and back, at a time, increasing ten yards every week until a hundred are g..ne over thrice a dav. A substitute for ladies and persons in cities is running up a*airs with the mouth closed, which compels very deep inspira tions, in a natural way, at the end of the journey. , . • •• As consumptive people are declining, eacli week is a witness to theiKinablllty to deliver as much air at a single out breathing as the week before; hence the best wav to keep the fell disease at bay Is to maintain lung development. It is known that in large towns, ten thousand feet above the level of the sea. the deaths by consumption are. ten times less than in places nearly ou a level with the sea. Twenty-five persons dioof.con sumption in the city of New York where only two die of that disease in the..city, of Mexico. All know that consumption does not prevail in hilly countries and in high situations. One reason of this is, because theie Is more ascending exer cise, increaslngdeep breathing; besides, the air being more rarified, larger quan tities arc instinctively taken into the lungs to answer the requirements of tho system, thus at every breath keeping up a high development. Hence the hills should be sought by consumptives, and not low, fiat situations.— Hall's Health 2'racta. . ■ Couldn’t Find, the Verdict.—At a recent session ofone ofthe courts of South Carolina, an entire negro jury was em panelled. A case was brought before them, the witness examined, and the at torneys made their respective arguments. The judge, after laying down the law and recapitulating the testimony, gave the papers into the hands of the foreman, a rather intelligent looking darjeey, with Instructions as soon as they found a verdict, to brin" it fn without foil. Thirty minutes or more elapsed, when the jury returned, headed by the foreman and stood before tbe judge. As the foreman appeared to hesitate, the judge inquired : ‘Mr. Foreman, have you found a ver dict?’ " •No, Massa Judge, we habn’t found em no how,’ replied the ebony juryman, ‘lr’s a very plain case,’ said the judge. ‘Can’t help it, massa, couldn’t see it,’ replied ebony again. •On what grounds ?’ inquired the -jUdee ‘We didn’t look into the grouns, Massa Judge,’ replied the foreman ; ‘de-osslfer did not take us out iwto the grounds but lie took us into a room and locked us in, and told us when we found de verdic* he wood leave us out, so we began to find de verdic and search ebery uook. corner, and crevis, and ebery ting fins was in dat room, hut we fouud no verdic—no nuflfin ob de kind dar.’ A Thought by tiir Way.—The path of life is like a winding )»no t ln which the traveler must be content with seeing hut a few.glfeps before him, not knowinu whether rounding the next curve he may meet with a friend or foe. Thus it.ls in life. Man can reckon only on tho pres ent moment, unconscious of what the next may bring forth; hut must walk on* trusting to tho hand that has brought him safely round so many curves, feeling thankful that Infinite Wisdom has de creed tho future should be hidden, lest on beholding all the perils ami dangers of the way at ones, ho should despalr-of ever surmounting them. A BA.CHRLOU says that all he should ask for lu a wife would be a good temper, health, good understanding, agreeable physiognomy, figure, good connection, domestic habits, resources of amusement, good spirits, conversational talents, ele gant manners and money I YOL. 51-NO. 8. MAROAUETN MISSION. ‘Ages Grovwiys lhat every woman has a mission. What do you suppose my mission Is, mamma?' ‘Mission, indeed I* laughed ’ Mrs. A 1 leyne. looking proudly at her pretty daughter. * I suspect, inv dear Meggy, your mission is to flirt and dance.’ Mrs. Alleyne was wealthy, and Marga ret was her only child. Her whole life was spent In rendering her daughter hap py, so Miss Margaret was petted to the heart's content. To look as pretty and bewitching as possible, to behrrayed like Solomon in his glory from morning till night,, to pass her time In an endless bug* cession of Belgravian gnyety,: was-her child’s mission, according to Mrs. Al* leyne’s idea; so Margaret received all the gifts fortunesbowered upon herqulte os a matter of course, and enjoyed life as her mother expected she would do.' At last Margaret met her fate, to the great wonderment of her friends, In the person of John Graham, a wealthy young merchant of Baltimore; for Margaret Al leyne, with her bahy faee and coquettish manner, was the person In the world you would imagine' the grave business man would iove, and he the moat un- all her suitors to carry off the bell6.' But Margaret did love her lover; be was so gr/ive and clever. £O, amidst ' the congratulations of hfa. friends and the tears of her parents, John Graham-bore his fair bride off to his home. He was very much in love with pretty Margaret. The soft, rose Hushed face, the lender blue eyes, the cringled golden hair, never lost their charm for him.— But he, never dreamed that this little* fragile creature could share the burdens with him. No, that dimpled face was only made for smiles, so he Indulged and caressed her, hut his cares he bore alone. The large fortune left by John’s father had been doubled by his energy ; but now by the simultaneous failure of two or three firms he hud trust ;d, at.d the vil- lainy of a confidential clerk, the wealthy merchant saw himself upon the brink of ruin. Love rendered Margaret keen sighted; she. quickly perceived that all was not right husband; his wan. haggard face frightened her. But, dearly as she.loved him,'she was too proud to seek his confidence; so both were wretched, though each endeavored tocqnceal if from the other. When John saw that ruin was inevita- ble, he. wrote to Mrs. Aileyne, frankly disclosing the state of affairs. The rnoth ur iliatutAh flmr li*.p Uuugiu at* ul.ai.i.i turn to her ; her husband could claim her when fortune again smiled upon him ; but in the meantime, Margaret was better with her; to spare»her anxiety, it was better she sbou d not know of her husband's difficulties. With a heavy heart, John agreed to all Mrs. Alleyne’s demands. Margaret's love was the only brightness left in his life; but, of course, if sbe could be happi er with her mother, he could sacrifice It. His stern* pule face, ami constrained manner affected Margaret painfully when be told her he desired her to accept her mother’s invitation. *He no longer loves me—he wishes me to leave him,’ the poor child cried after wards, in a passion of tears. But bef re him she presented Ja calm exterior, and Joi'n Graham thought thal his young wife, like the rest of the world, was ready to desert the ship. So Margaret returned to the house of her girlhood,'calling ad her pride to her assis unce to enable her to apneur indiff *reiu; hut her heart was runt by bitter pangt. for ahe had persuaded herself that her huab»*rvi no longer loved her. Whole nights spent in xturs leave traces ; pretty Margaret grew'pale and thin, and Mrs.' Aileyne began to fear 'that «ir. !»«»• tendcnesp could not constitute her happiness. Still the girl nev er'complain* d, but bore her burden in proud silence. One night. Margaret was at a ball given by an intimate friend. She had danced a great deni, and being very tlted, sat ’down near an open window;.a heavy curtain entirely concealed her* Two gentlemen were standing near, and she heard the conversation distinctly. * So John Graham, of Baltimore, is bankrupt? I was very sorry to her it; he is a most honorable fellow,’ said one. ‘ Yes,’answered, theother; * I saw him last week ; he looks wretchedly. Yon know he married Miss Alleyne, a pretty Uttie doll without nn idea, ami, wl|ht in worse, without a heart; now she has deserted him in 'his adversity. It is rather hard when a man’s own wife will not aid him to bear his troubles.’ Margaret’s heart gave a great bound. — How,she had misjudged him! how true and tender he was! He was alone in 'rouble; surely her place wasatbisside* Then, heedless of comments, she left her hiding place. The next duy, John Graham’s stately mansion was to be sold. had taken gr at pride,in his home; a thousand ten der associations were connected with .every room. Now, with a heavy heart 4 he wandered through the deserted apart* menlfe. Here whs . Margaret’s piano, which he had given*her; the pictures and statuea they had chosen together; every article appeared like, an aid friend then feeling of intense desolation crept over Kim—be was so utterly lonely. The strong spirit was almost crushed* He threw himself upon the bed, and wept like a child. A quick step lip n the stairs, a rustle of silken robes, a glad cry,, then clinging arms twined about his neck, a soft cheek was pressed to his, tangled golden curls mingled with his dark locks. WusiLa dream? He pressed her close to make sure of the reality, and kissed her with such passionate fervor that Margaret wept for foy. ‘Margaret, my wife—Margaret!’ he sobbed. *Oh, John, how cruel yon were to send me away! But I’ll never leave you again, darling.’ When they had both regained calm ness, John Graham explained to hie wife that the next day the house was to be sold—he could not take her into lodgings —perhaps 'she had better leturn to her mother. But Margaret firmly refused. ‘Any place that is good enough for you John,'is good enough for me. My place is with you. I can assist you more than you think,’she said. Then Margaret commenced the battle oflife In earnest. It Is not easy to turn from a life of pleasure.and luxury to one of comparative poverty. Margaret at first .did not find her path strewn with roses ; there were difficulties to be encountered, slights to be endured, ease to be sacrificed but she bad a brave heart, and love had changed the gay, careless girl into the tender, self sacrificing woman, She became her husband’s closest friend, his belt adviser, the sympathizing confidant' of all ids plans; ever ready to cheer in moments of depression, the first to rejoice In his success. • John Graham is a wealthy man again now; su cess has crowned his ollorts; but he ever b.esses the adversity which taiu;bt him to know the real value of his wife* Bo Margaret found her mission ns a devoted wife and mother, much to her mother’s amazement; and John Graham lound bo had married not ; a pretty butterfly of fashion, but an earnest, loving woman. , A mast Eli 'who hud several appren tices was accustomed to feeding tlioiii quite lar ely on bean soup. Thiswas all well enough at first, but after a little wliilo with each successive soup a smaller number of beans appeared. Ono day at the table, after the good man had said grace one of the hoys, alter a scrutinizing glance at his dish, was seen to suddenly rise from his chair and commence to strip. “ What are you about there, Thom as?' exclaimed the master, in astonish ment. ‘ Uoin’ to divo for a bean 1’ was the reply. Beans were plenty after that. Hatco for adwnTisurciTTS will be inserted a t Ten Cent per lino for Hie first Insertion, and flvejcen* per lino for eaart?’ who prefer stale bread can have, their tastq gratified by sending to Pompeii, where thevhavo loaves which were" baked over Teigßicen hundred years ag£.. ■ ■ a great general, whojyas braver than he was wise, a friend of Jeddy’s said: *He did not invent gun powder, but he’s not afraid to smell it.’ A little boy of five years of age • while writhing under the tortures of tb ague, was told by his mother to rise P and take a powder she had prepa*edo r him. ‘Powder! powder!’ said h« ri “ sing upon his elbow, and putting-> n roguish smile, ‘ mother, 1 ain’t a* UQ * An Irish heari’g of a friend having a atone coffin j>ade lor himself, exclaimed: By my sowl, an’ that’s a jood idee. Shure, an’ a stone coffin ’udhist a map his life-time!’ A funny chap in Indiana thought it would be amusing to pav the ghost, and ‘appeared’ to a famer who had so little respect for his appearance that Ke almost killed him. Ho came out In a sheet, and was carried honio on a blan ket. / A little four-year old boy sat alone on the piazza, when a new physician came to see his sick mother. The doc tor naturally wished to make acquaint ance, and said: * How old are you my son ?’ ‘i am not old, lam new,’ said the boy. Thebe once lived In a village not more than three hundred miles west of New York, a certain man who had a* largo family, ahd little ‘ treasures’ were continually being added to his board.— One diy one of his littlp boys happened to be in a store, and was thus interro gated by a young man present: ‘ John, how many brothers and sisters have you got 1’ ‘I don’t know,’ answered the boy, ‘X haln’t been homo since morning.’ A country girl once went into the city to pay a visit to one of her old and best friends; this friend was married to a rich city merchan'.and a leader of fashion. In city etiquette, of course, the visitor was verdant, and made nu merous mistakes. Her friend wished to initiate her into the 1 mysteries,’ and as they wore going to a largo ball, gave her the following instructions, viz:—’ ‘ Eat only one small cake and ono sau cer of ice cream, and when your atten d nt presses you to take more, answer that you have masticated a sutilciency, and more would bo a superfluity.’— Things went on very sumothly until her attendant asked her to partake of more refreshments, when, to the horror of her friend, and amu-emont of the company,she answered iu a loud voice: 4 X have evaporated insufficiently—and any more more would go flippity-flop-: pity. 4 h u ising.l ’—Too often