Volunteer.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNINO
Bh ATTOHJc_KBNNEDY
..rfICE-BOBTnMABHET SQDABE.
rwo Dollars per year IT paid strictly
‘ C. two Dollars and Fitly Cents If paid
in advauc . tha . a fter •Which Three Dollars
* ,U \ m d termswlllbe rigidly ad.
ffl “ rn fv.ry Instance. Ho sub orlptlon dls
“"lned antlLall arroarnsea are paid, nnlass at
of the Editor.
sroKo»ionai ®aro^.
mUTEDSTATjES CLAIM
AND
REAL. EH'iATh AVJt-At r.
WM.-B. BUTLER,
ATTORNfeV AT IAV,
n«.nA in Franklin House, South HanoverStree
lc £ /1 laanlry. please enclose postage stamp. ,
“mlyll.-WO-tf .
nITBEOTHOOVEB, - .
JXXOBNET-AX-LAW, 4
CARUSLE. PA.
Olllco on South Hanover .Street, opposite
Pents’s dry goods store.
Dor. 1. ll'de-
.JUMBICH & PARKER,
ATTORNEYS at lA if.
Offloa ou' Main Street. In Marlon Hall. Cor
lisle. Pa*
Deo. 2 im- '
nEO. S. EMIG,
ATTORNEY- A.T-LAW,
OHlco with S. Hepburn. Jr.
Eaet Main Street,
CABMBLE, PA.
Keb.a.n—iy
, XT KENNEDY, Attorney at Uw
W Carlisle, Ponna. Office same, as that ol
llio “American Volunteer.”
Dec. 1. 1870. _
- rvR. GEORGE S. BEARIGHT, Den
r- I I _.„ T From the Baltimore of Dental
r * Office at the residence of nls rnother
EastjEouther Street, three doors below Bedford
5 Carlisle, Penno*
Doo.l 1805..
mts anft fflaiiH
B E B H A BBI.VAI
or ALL TBE
A JSTT STYLES
OF
V hats and caps.
y Ttio subscriber baa Just opened at Wo. 15 Worth
r Qanover Street, a few doors North or the Carlisle
iJDeoostt Bunk, one of tho largest and best Stocks
Jat HATS and CAPS ever offered In Carlisle.
■■ SHk Hats, Casslraere of all styles and qualities,
3mif Brims, different colors, and every descrip
tion of Soft Huts now made. _
4 The Uunkard and Old Fashioned Brush, con
iLtautly on hand and made to order, all warrant
i*l to give satisfaction. - • ,
:• a full assortment or
>5 0 ENTS.
gC BOY’S, AND
& CHILDREN’S. .
£ HATS.
}\ aave also added to my Stock, notions of differ"
Teat kinds, consisting of
I<3 LADIES’ AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS'
tfecKites, Suspenaeri,
Collars, Gloves,
, Pencils. 2hread,
' Sewing Silk. Umbrellas, 4co
PEIME BEQABB AND TOBACCO
ALWAYS ON HAND.
*3ive me a call, and examine my Block as I feel
ionlldont of pleasing all, besides saving you mo
°6y- JOHN A. KELLKIt, Agent,
No. 16 North Hanover Street.
(Jot. DOT. . ,
jJATS AND CAPS 1
; DO YOU WANT A NICE HAT OB CAP 7
If so, don’t Kaili to call ov
J J. a. GALLIC.
? NO. 29. WBSI MAIN STRbET.
Where can bo seen the finest assortment ol
> HATS AND CAPS
ever brought to Carlisle. He lakes great pleas,
-.vuero In Inviting his old friends and customers,
•‘/find all new ones, to his splendid Just re
i’&llved from New York and Philadelphia, con
iaistlnglnpartofflne , •
If BILK AND CASSIMERE HATS,
Tjlmiaca an endless variety or Hats and Caps ol
■ iahe latest style, all ol which ho will sell at the
tSrtM Price. Also, his own manufacture
- ‘Sy Hats always on hand, and .
'3 HATS MANUFACTURED TO ORDER.
: « Ho has tho best arrangement for coloring Hats
skud all kinds of Woolen Goods, Overcoats, Ac., ot
:M,he shortest notice (as he colors every week) and
Sou the most reasonable terms. Also, a nne lot ol
« choice brands of
| TOBACCO AND CIGARS,
t always on hand. Ho desires to call theattentlon.
to persons who have
« COUNT RYFUKS *
; i lo sell, us he pays the highest cash prices for lie
S < ’ Give him a call, at tho above number, bis iltl
\ ; »taud, oa he fools confident ofglvlng entire satts
' faction.
’ Oct.lWO..
iflunxlmu. s?c.
94? ' H I
JAMES OAMjfBELL. | W. F. HENWOOD.
CAMPBJELIT& hjenwoob,
PLUMBERS,
GAS AND STEAM FITTERS,
No. 18 North Hanover St.,
CARLISLE, ;P A.
BATHTUBS,
WATER CLOSETS,
WASH BASINS,
HYDRANTS.
LIFT AND FORCE PUMPS,
CISTERN AND DEEP WELL PUMPS.
GAS FIXTURES,
UAS SHADES AND GLOBES Ac., <tc.
Lead, Iron and Terra Cotta Pipe,
CHIMNEY TOPS and ELITES,
A ll kinds ol
brass w q r k
or Steam and Water constantly, bn hand.
WORK IN TOWN OR COUNTRY
fpromptly attended to.
attention given to orders for
matcrial or work from a distance.JSflr
Having special advantages wo are prepared to
furnish
b & b b b b b b
Hep. I, 70—Ur
WHOLESALE AT
CITY PRICES,
constantly on hand such a*
GLOVES,
SUSPENDERS,
NECK TIES and
BOWS.
SHIRT FRONTS, Cambric and Linen Handker
chiefs, L2non and Paper Collars and Cuffb,
Trimmings Braids. Spool Cotton. Walletts
Combs,Stationary, wrapping Poperand Papor
Bags. Drags, Soaps and Perfumery, Shoo Black,
Stove Polish, lualgo, Seears, dc. f &o,
. COYLE BROTHERS,
No, 24 South 1 Hanover street,
March 80,1871—0 m, , Carlisle. Pa,'
J L. BTEENEE & BED.,
LIVERY AND SALE SUABLE,
BETWEEN HANOVER AND BEDFORD SIS
IN THE EEAE OP BENTZ HOUSE,
CAELIBLE, PA. ,
Having fitted up the Stable with new Carrl
f KM, 40., I am prepared to fnrnlsn first-class
turn-outs, at reasonable rates. Parties taken to
*na from tho springs
Al>Hl 25. 1887.—2 y
VrOTICE.—AII persons Indebted to the
1\ undersigned, are hereby notified to call and
settle the same before October 1,1871, or the
same will be given Into tbo hands of a collector
for collection.
. ISAAC LIVINGSTON.
Aug.5,1871-tf
ADMINISTRATOR’S NOTICE-No
tlco la.hereby given that letters of Admin
tlon.on the estate of Henry Snider, late of
worth Middleton township,deceased, have been
granted to the undersigned, residing In the same
township. All persons Indebted to the said
estate are requested to make payment Imme
aiately, and those having claims against the
estate will also present them for settlement.
SOLOMON SNIDER,
PHILIP SNIDER, ,
July 27, 1871—6t,*
®be American Balnnteer
BY BRATTON & KENNEDY,
fßrtilcal.
QNE MILLION OF LIVES SAVED
It Is one of the remarkable facts of this re*
markable ago- not merely that so many versons
are th&vlotlms of dyspepsia or indigestion, but
Its willing victims. Now, we would not bo un
derstood to say that any one regards dyspepsia
with favor, or feels disposed to rank it among
the luxuries of life. Far from iu Those who
have experienced Its torments would scout such
an idea. All dread It, and would gladly dispeni-o
with Its unpleasant famlliaritletfa MarkTaploy
who was Jolly umler-nll the trying olrcumstan
-Bes'ltrwhiclrho was placed?never hod-an-attack.
of dyspepsia, or his Jollity would have speedily
forsaken him. Men and women sometimes
suffer its tortures uncomplainingly, bub whoev
er heard of a person who enjoyed them 7
Of all the multifarious diseases to which the
human system is liable, there Is perhaps no one
so generally prevalent as dyspepsia. There are
diseases more acute and painful, and which
more frequently prove fatal, bht none, the ef
fects of which are so depressing to thomlnd and
so positively distressing to the uody. If there is
a wretched being in the world it Is
A CONFIRMED DYSPEPTIC.
But It is not our Intention to dlscantohtl’o hor
rors of Dyspepsia. To describe them truthfully
Is simply an Impossibility, but it is possibly to
point out a remedy. We nave said that dyspep
sia is perhaps the most universal of human dis
eases. This is emphatically the case in the
United States.- Whether this general preva
lence is duo to the character oi the food, the
method of its preparation, or the hasty manner,
in which it is usually swallowed, is not our pro
vince to explain. The groat fact with wlUch we
are called to deal is this:
DYSPEPSIA PREVAILS
almost universally.
Nearly every other person you meet Is a vic
tim, an apparently willing one. for wore this not
the case, why so many f nff erers, when a certain,
speedy and safe remedy Is within the easy
reach of all who desire to avail themselves of It?
But tho majority will not. Blinded bv preju
dice, or deterred by some other unexplained In
fluence. they refuse to accept tho relief profer
ed them. They turn n deaf ear to tho testimony
of the thousands whose sufferings have been al
leviated, and with strange Infatuation, appear
to cling with dt sperato determination to their
ruthless tormentor. But says a dyspeptic:
What Is this remedy? to which we reply; This
great.a!levlator of human suffering Is almost as
widely known as the English language. It has
allayed the agonies of thousands, and is to-day
carrying comfort and encouragement to thou
sands or others. This acknowledged panacea Is
none other than
Dn. HOOFLAND’S GERMAN BITTERS.
Would you know more ol the merits of tbla
wonderful medicine than can bo learned from
the experience of others? Try Itfcyourself, and
when ft has failed to fulfil.the assurance of its
efficacy given by the proprietor, then abandon
faith in It.
LET IT BE REMEMBERED,
first of all, that Hoofland’s. Gorman Bitters Is
not a rum beverage. .’
They are not alcohollo In any sense of tho
term. They are -composed wholly of the pure
Juice or vital principle of roots, This Is not a
more assertion. The extracts - from which they
are compounded are prepared by one of the
ablest German olmmlstn. Unlike Any other
Bitters lu the market, they are wholly free from
spirituous Ingredients. The objections which
hold with so much force against preparations of
this class, namely—that a desire for intoxicating
drinks Is stimulated by their use, are not valid.
In tho cose of tho German Bitters. So far from
encouraging or incnlatlug a taste or desire for
Inebriating beverages, it may be confidently ns*
sorted that their tendency is In a diametrically
opposite direction.* Tholr efforts can be .
BENEFICIAL ONLY
In all cases of tho biliary system. ’ Hoolland’i
German Bitters stand without an equal, acting
promptly and vigorously upon the Liver, they
lemove Its torpidity and cause healthful secre
tion of bile—thereby supplying the stomach
with the most indispensable, elements of sound
digestion In proper proportions. They give tone
to the stomach—stimulating Its functions, and
enabling It to perform ite duties os nature de
signed It should do. They impart vigor and
strength to the entire system, causing the pa*,
tlept to feel like another being—ln fact, giving
him a new lease of life.
THEY PURIFY THE BLOOD,
cleansing the vital fluid of all hurtful impuri
ties aud supplying them with the elements of
genuine healthfulness. In a word, there Is
scarcely a disease In which they cannot bo
safely and beneficially employed; bnt in that
most generally prevalent distressing and dread
ed disease. Dyspepsia,
THEY STAND UNRIVALED.
Now, there are certain classes of persons to
whom extreme liters are not onxy unpalata
ble, but who find it impossible to take.them
without positive discomfort. For such .
Dn. HOOFLAND’S GERMAN TONiO
has been specially prepared. It Is intended for
use whore a slight alchohol stimulant is requir
ed In connection with tho well-known Tonic
properties of the' pure German Bitters. This
Tonic contains all the Ingredients of.tbeßlttert,
blit so flavored as to remove the extreme bitter
ness. This preparation Js not only palatable,
hut combines, In modified form, all the virtues
of the German Bitters. The solid extracts of
some of Nature’s choicest restoratives are held.
In solution by a spirituous agent ot the purest
quality. In cases of languor or excessive dabll-
Ity, whore the system appears to have become
exhausted of Us encodes.
HOOFLAND’S TONIO
acts with almost marvelous effect. It not only
stimulates the flogging aud wasting energies,
but Invigorates and permanetly strengthens Its
action upon tho Liver and Stomach thorough*
perhaps less prompt than the Bitters, when the
same quantity is taken Is none the less certain.’
Indigestion, Bllliousness, Physical or Nervous
Prostrotlon, rleld readily to Ita potent Influence. -
It gives the invalid 9 new and stronger bold
upon life, removes depression of spirits, and in
spires cheorfuldess. It supplanlaMhe pain of
disease with the ease and comfort of perfect
health. It gives strength to weakness, throws
despondency to the winds, and starts the re
stored Invalid upon a now and gladsome career.
But Dr. Hoofland’s benefactions to the human
race are not confined to hls celebrated
. GERMAN BITTERS,
or his invaluable Tonic. He has prepared an
other vnedlolne, wolch Is rapidly winning Its
way to popular favor because of Its intrinsic
merits. TblsJs
HOOFLAND’S PODOPHYLLIN PILLS,
a perfect sabstltule for mercury, without any .of
mercury’s evil qualities.
These .wonderful Pills, wljlch are Intended to
act upon the Liver, are mainly composed',©!
Podophyllln, or.tho,
VITAL PRINCIPLE OF THE MANDRAKE
ROOT.
.Now wo desire the render to distinctly under
stand that this extract of the Mandrake is many
times more powerful than the Mandrake Itself.
It la the medicinal virtues of this health-giving
plant In a perfectly pure and highly concentra
ted form. Hence ft Is that two of the Podophyl
iln Pills constitute a fall dose, while anywhere
six to eight or a handful of other preparations
of the Mandrake are required. The Phodophyl
lln
ACTS DIRECTLY ON THE LIVER.
stimulating Its functions and causing It tomaha
its biliary secretions in regular and proper
quantities. The Injurious results which invari
ably follow the use of mercury is entirely
avoided by their use. But it Is not upon the
Liver only that their powers are exerted. The
extract of Mandrake contained In them Is skill
fully combined with four other extracts, one of
which acts upon the stomach, one upon the up
per bowels, one upon the lower bowels, and one
prevents any gVlpfng effect, thus producing a pill
that Inflences the digestive and alimentary sys
tem, Ir an equal and harmonious manner, and
Its action entirely free from nausea, vomiting or
griping pains common to all other purgatives.
Possessing these much desirable qualities, the
Podopbylliu becomes invaluable as a
FAMILY MEDICINE.
No household should be without them. They
are perfectly safe, require but, two foranordlna-,
rv dose, are-prompt and efllcleut In action, and
when used In connection with Dr. Hodflnnd’s,
Oorman -Bitters, or Tonlo, may bo regarded as
certain specifics In all oases ofLlverCompldlnt,
Dyspepsia, or tiny of .the disorderulo Whfdn tlio
system is ordinarily suhJec. The '
PODOPHYLLIN PILLS,
act upon the stomach and bowels, carrying off
improper obslruolions, while the Bitters or
nio purify the blood, strengthen and Invigorate
the frame, give tone ond appetite to the stom
ach, and thus build up tbeiuvalld anew.
Ur. Hoofl.and, having provided Internal reme
dies for diseases, has given the world one main j,
ly for external application, In the wonderfu
preparation known as
1 * DH. HOOKLAND’S GREEK OIL.
This GUIs a sovereign remedy for pains and
aches of all kinds.
Rheumatism, Neuralgia. Toothache, Chil
blains, Sprains, Burns, Pain In the Back and
Loins. Ringworms. &c.. all yield to its external
application. The number oPcures effected by It
is astonishing and they are -Increasing oyory
day.
Taken Internally, ills a cure for Heart-burns,
Kidney Diseases, Sick Headaches, Colic, Dysen
tery, Cholera Morbus, Cramps, Pains In the
Btomach, Colds, Asthma, &o.
The Greek Oil Is composed entirely of healing
gums and essential oils. The principal engredl
eut Is an oily substance, procured in the South
ern part of Greece. Its effects os a destroyer of
Enin are trnly magical. Thousands have been
oneiltted by it bubo, and a trial by those who
are skeptical will thoroughly convince, them of
its inestimable value.
These remedies will bo sent by express to any
locality, upon application to the Principal Office,
at the German Medicine Store, No. 031 Arch Bt.,
Philadelphia.
SST-These remedies are for sale by dnigglstsi
storekeepers, and medicine dealersev«ry where.
Chas. M. Evans,
Formerly 0. M. JACKSON & 00.
poetical
DT CAUL KENNEDY.
I have waited Jor thy coming
Many years;
And my heart Is tossed and tortured'
With its rtars.
In ulght-vlslpns I behold thee ‘
•.■'-Purtiwayr'’”'—.^—7 — —-
And I wake to love* thee only,
"'AlLthoday. *
Time, the wrecker and destroyer,
Down the alt
Sifts the white sand through his fingord,
On my hair.
To the borders of life's winter
„ Drawing nigh;
And tfio harvest moon Is fading
i From the sky.
Through the summer woods I've wondered
All alone,
With a weight upon my spirit
Like a stone.
I have sown beside all waters—
Loving
In.the shadow and the sunshine.
Warm and free.
I had hoped to reap right early -
Something sweet,
And a something that would make
My homo complete.
Love was given, nothing doubting,
Lavishly;
Strong and constant, nover changing,
As the sea.
1 am sad, and I am lonely—
Weary, too;
If. there’s truth outside of Heaven,
Thou art true.
And I’ll wait as I have waited,
Evermore, f
For the music of thy footstep
At my door.
Ipsallairaw.
THE WIDOW. WALCOTT.
BY AUGUSTA UAIiNKI),
Elder Bruce ought to get up a revival.
We’ve had a kind of spiritual drought
here for more than .three years. Folks
are as luke-warm as they can be ;■ and
over to Bradshaw they’ve had such a
refreshin’ time, I declare Its been like
the dew on Hermon. It does seem as
though we ought to bestir ourselves, for
Buokville, and Spaulding, and Marrylll
havo all had first-rate revivals since the
last protracted meeting was held here—
and they ain’t nothing like as Influential
churches as our’n. Not one of ’em has
got red moreen cushions and banging
lamps. And I eay to my husband : ‘HI
, rhm. what does It signify If sinners’ bod
ies does set easy, If their souls are in the
gall of bitterness and the bonds of iniqui
ty?’ I'd like to have something that
would prick the unconverted up to n
sense of their guilt.' Ahem I Mlhs Wal
cott, I believe you. don’t belong to our
connection.’
•No,’ replied the widow, gently, as she
sat on the highest step of her hack stoop,
shelling peas for dinner; ’but I.hear Ei
der Bruce preach every Sunday, and I
like him very mueh.’
•I dare say you do,’ returned Mrs.
Spangler, rooking hard in the low, splint
bottomed chair the widow had given her,
and making it creak, I Wo all like him.
Husband and me set great's tore by him
and tho truth is, we were the first that
was in favor of getting him here, and I
guess he knows how much he owes us-
I don’t believe the elder could get along
If lie didn’t have husband td advise him.
He’s looked up to os much as any man
in thecommnnity,lfldosay it,as hadn’t
ought'to do; and, as for my daughter,
Mlnervy, since hia wife died, she’s been
the Eldar’s right hand. She's taken the
lead In the Sunday school, and sung in
the choir, and had a hand.in everything.
Folks do say olie’ll go to the' parsonage
one of these days, but laws* I don’t pay
no attention to such nonsense. If the el
der and she wants to make it up between
’em, its nobody’s business. But still, I
do say that I think the Elder ought to get
up a revival.’ '
‘Perhaps,’ returned the Widow Walcott,
in the same mild tone, ‘he thinks reviv
als are dependent on the will of God.
The spirit, it is said, 'goeth .where it
iiateth,’ and no such awakening could be
lasting in Us effects unless there had been
a previous preparation of the spirit.’
’Them may be the views you hold lu
your denomination, Mrs. Walcott; but
for my part I think the old dry bones
need a geod shaking up now and then.—
Sinners inuat be made to tremble. Elder
Eiokets can do it. Wherever he goes
there’s a glorious outpouring; and when
I think of it, it does seem as though tile
Elder ought to ask Brother Ricketts to
come and help him hold a course of meet
ings. They’ve had fifty new members
added to the church up in Putney—some
of ’em were children not more than ten
years old, and some were real old case
hardned sinners; aud now they’re going
to put in a new pulpit, with one of them
fashionable low desks, made of rosewood.
Dear me ! it does seem as though some
thing ought to be done in our church.—
We go dragging along in a half-dead-and
alive way; and idiram and mehotb think
that a good smart revival is all that is
needed.’ , "
‘But don’t it often happen, Mrs Spang
ler, that people fall away after such sea
sons of excitement, and become ten times
worse than Jhey were before—especially
where they have been drawn Intp the
church without any deepand Inatlugcon
victiom ?’ And the widow rose and gath
ered the pods Into her apron. *l'ra told,’
Jsheiaddcd, ‘that there’s more, drunken
ness and profanity in Buokville and
Spaulding than there wa» before the .pro
tracted meeting.
‘O, what can you. expect of Buokville
and Spaulding 1 They always was sinks
of Iniquity,and you can’t make me think
It don’t do 'em some good to have a rous
ing'now and then, But we are different
sort of folks. We think a good deal of
ourselves, and bold our heads as high as
the best. You haven’t been long enough
in Sklttleton to learn all about ua, Mrs.
Walcott ; and we’re ruther .slow about
taking la strangers. . But I don’t think
they have any reason to complain when
they are took In.’
Mrs. Spangler rose to take her leave;—
She had Just propped in for a morning
chat, and for more than rn hour bad been
seated on the,back stoop of the widow’s
cottage, in the lazy transparent shadows
that flickered down from the drooping
boughs of a willow like the green mist
from a fountain. There were morning
glories anfiscarletrunners trained against
the trellis work, and a bit of white mus-
Iln curtain flutterlng.outfrom the sitting
room window. There was a neat, little
path running between borders to the gate;
and the smell.of old-fashioned pinks and
roses coming up pleasantly to tho nos
trils; The widow got up too, holding the
basin of peas she had been shelling In her
hand. Her Skaker bonnet, with a little
touch of black upon It, had slipped off,
showing her soft,’ silky brown h«fr, with
only hera and therea threadof gray. She
was a little under the middle size, and
•her large gray eyes had a peculiarly sln
cereand candid glance. Widow Walcott’s
youth hod passed away, hut she had not
lost all the roundhess and softness and
bloom of youth. She wore the plainest of
black dresses, and there,was a pair of old
gloves and a garden ttewel on the step,
showing that she meant to weed in her
.flower bed, when Mrs. Spangler should
go away and let her.
Mrs. Spangler did at last depart. She
was stout,'and wore a long loose saque,
which Increased her breadth of back, as
she went swinging her arms down the
Proprietor.
WAITING.
. ‘Fiddlesticks, Mlnervy! Don’t talk to
me about considering Jillies, when tbe
week’s ironingls behindhand,and there’s
a batch of bread all burnt to a crisp on the
kitchen table. It rlles.me if it is out
of the Scripture, And you must take hold
yourself and do that ruffled petticoat of
your’n, It’s an awful pieceof work, and
besides 1 know you relish your dinner as
-weirras-moßt- rones, -vv non yon-nave
plenty to eat and drink and wear, and
don’t have to exert yourself to get it,
you’re ready to consider the lillies, but 1
guess you’d play anotber tune If you was
.bet up over tbe stove half the day, and
1 suffered from prickly heat every time you
went into the kitchen- I never could un
derstand what it means where it says in
the Bible, ‘Take no thought for the mor
row.’ What a pickle things would be in
if we didn’t take thought for the morrow.
I guess in them days folks didn’t have to
get three meals regular, and there weren’t
men folks coming round and scolding
unless they bad their victuals op to tbe
minute. Folks must have picked their
living then along by the road. But I.was
going to tell you, Mlnervy, that I’ve been
into the Widow Walcott’s, and its my
opinion she’s setting her cap for tbe el
der. She’s one of them sly, quiet kind,
that you never can know-; but it looks,to
me as if she meant to get into tbe par
sonage. And then she don’t seem quite
sound in her religious views. I guess
she’s a little sbakey on some doctrinal
points—for when I spoke about a revival
she didn’t seem to encourage it, and you
know she has lived up Clinton way,
where there’s a good many Universale; —
I shouldn’t wonder if she’d been drawded
in, Mlnervy. I must speak to the'elder
and fee him know she ain’t quite sound.’
The Widow Walcott’s cottage stood
exactly opposite the parsonage. It was a
little, low, brown bouse, with a neat yard,
bright with flowers, a large spreading
maple tree at tbe gate, and a. tidy bit of
kitchen garden, where the widow’s Sha
ker bonnet migh t be seen at a very early
hour of the morning. The parson had
not yet called upon his neighbor, for she
. was a camparativo stranger in Skittleton;
and, like some others of his cloth, he was
a poor visitor. But the parson's boys and
•the widow’s little girl had got acquainted.
The lads were fond of little Maryland
delighted to give her a swing under the.
tall trees, and to show her the tricks of
their tame squirrel, and to let her help
them in their huntforbens’ nests through
the great old parsonage barn, whore
swallows nested under the eaves.
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 24, 1871.
shady village street. Mrs. Bpangler’s
bouse stood on a corner lot. It was tall
and staring from its coat of vivid white
paint; and thsre were large, fan-shaped
lattices In front for vines, but there were
no vines upon them. There had been an
attempt made at an ambitious mound for
flowers, In the centre of the green plot;
but It looked rather weedy and unprom
ising. Neither Mrs. Spanglen nor Mi
nerva had the knack for making flowers
grow possessed by Mrs, Walcott. Butit was
easy to see‘that Hiram Spangler was one
.oftbo mostforehanded.men !n.SkltfJoMP.;,
and, If anything had been needed topiove
the fact, the now,, shiny, double carriage
revealed by the open doors of the carriage
bouse would have put all doubts to
flight.
Mrs. Spangler remembered that It was
baking-dayj and that her, 'help. 1 was not
to be depended upon. Bo she stepped
round the house and looked In at the cul
inary department. There was a cloud
upon her face wheh she entered the rbom,
where Minerva was busy with paste-pot
and scissors covering some books for the
Sunday school library.
'Hear me sudsl’ she cried, “There Glory
Ann has gone and let the bread burn to
a cinder, She will keep up a fire big
enough to roast an ox, and when 1 speak
to her about heating up the bouse at night,
she vows there’s only, a spark In the kit
chen. [Mrs. Spangler was not aware that
the spark was six feet high', dressed In
coat and trowaers.j T shall have to send
her adrift, for she’s a perfect sozzle ; and
then what are we going to do, with this
great house to keep clean, and -company
liable to come in upon us unexpected any
minute?’ And she sighed, half wishing
herself back in the little house where she
had been accustomed to do berown work;
before Hiram grew to be so well off.
‘La, mo,’ returned Minerva, snipping
away leisurely at a sheet of paper, ‘you
ought not to fret so about things. For
my part, I’d bo content with a crust of
bread. Just think what a beautiful ser
mon Elder Bruce preached last Sunday
about ‘Consider the lilies.’
The parson, a plain-featured, absent
minded man, with near-sighted eyes,
and an odd stoop in the shoulders, bad
more than once noticed the little blue
eyed, flaxen-haired girl that always
seemed to have a gleam of sunshine
about her, and coming out.bf, his shady
dwelling, had given her now and then a
friendly pat on the head with his big
hand; and .when he learned that her
name was Walcott had remembered that
Widow Walcott lived across the street,
and that he meant to call some day. But
once among his books, such neighborly
intentions slipped Ills mind.
Sally Reynolds was acknowledged to
be the smartest hired girl in Sklttleton,
and she ruled supreme in the minister’s
kitchen. It was generally supposed that
the late Mrs. Bruce, who was a timed
woman, not very strong In health had
regarded Sally with awe; and she was
certainly so regarded by the greater part
of the village people. Even Mrs; Spang
ler quailed a little before her sharp tongue
and unwavering pluck. She kept the
parsonage os neat as wax, and attended
to all her master's bodily wants, and
took good care of the boys, who were old
enough not to render a mother’s care in
dispensable. Every bright Monday
morning Sally’s ‘wash’ was seen flutter
ing oh the-line before other people were
well out of bed, and soon after the mid
day meal she spread her table and began
ironing,, with the clothes—smelling of
grass and clover—neatly rolled and pack
ed Into the basket, and the ‘horse’ set out
before the fire, to give a gentle airing
to the parson's shirts. People came from
a. distance to got Sally’s,recipe for yeast
and learn her knack of clear starchiug..
On the afternoon of the day in question
•theparson happened to look up from bis
study-table, and glance out of the win
dow opposite. He was following the
windings of a discourse on Original Bin.
•There were several large, serious looking
volumes lying around him; and before
him on the table were scattered some
sheets of heavy sermon paper, covered
with a legible but ungainly handwriting.
He had pursued the doublings and twist
ings of his subject until, when ho raised
bis eyes, it seemed as though they fell on
its veritable embodiment. Through a
gap in the maple boughs ho could look
into the widow’s little garden, and there
she was, with her Shaker bonnet bobb
ing about and her skirts fluttering In the
chase; trying to drive an unruly pig out
of ber omall enclosure. The gate stood
wide open, but the perverse animal
glanced past It, nnd.ndade a dash at the
ourrimt bushes. The widow ran around
oh the other side, but her bristly enemy
would not stir. She looked over the
picked fence in search of somebody to
come and bead him off; but not a soul
was stirring in the street. At last piggy
started out of bis cover, and ran across
the 'potato patch, breaking down two of
the live bills of sweet corn which the
widow possessed. The parson waited no
longer, but at this Juncture seized bis hat
and strode across the street to the wid
ow’s relief. Alas I her one cucumber vine
bad been trodden under the hoofs of the
foe, and the bristly creature was now
making a descent upon the cabbages..
■You stand here by the gate, ma’ani, 1
said the'parson, ’and I’ll bead him off
further down. It’s out of all order for the
neighbors to let their pigs run in the
street. I should like to know who owns
this vicious cresturci
He was away after the enemy, whose
dodges and turqsgavehim a much worse
chase than ‘Original Sin’ had done at the
study-table. At one -moment be found
himself In the weedy corner of the wid
ow’s garden, behind a row of plum trees,
and up to bis knees In burdock and apple
Peru, The next Instance he was dash
ing wildly after the miscreant into the
middle of the lettuce bed, where the an
imal turned suddenly; and giving an un
expected lunge, dashed between the par
son’s long legs, upsetting him complete
ly and knocking bis glasses off bis nose.
Then, leaving the elder sprawling there,
on the soft, brown bed, piggy turnsd, as
if satisfied with bis exploit, and, emitt
ing a aeries of contented grunts, trotted
out of the gate.
Mrs. Walcott ran. to her champion's
assistance, and off.red him hlsglasaea,i
withoutwhiobho was'ill inostDliiid.' II o'
bad already scrambled to bis feet, and
was dusting his knees with bis pocket
handkerchief, while something like a
blush mounted his sallow cheeks.
‘I am very sorry you should have met
with such an accident,! said the widow,
in a soft voice, and- looking up at him
with a pair of large gray eyes. ’
‘O, I don’t mind being floored,’ returned
the parson, while a quiver of humor pas
sed over his plain fetures. ‘I have suff
ered in that way from my doctrinal op
ponents a good many times, and gener
ally by some such scurvy trleks as that
beast played upon me; but surely it is a
pernicious thing to let pigs run loose In
tbe street. There ought to be a fine for
such offenses; and I’m afraid your gar
den has been seriously damaged.’
Tbe offending pig, a long, vicious look
ing ‘sbote’ had begun to feed quietly on
weeds by the roadside, when Sally Rey
nolds dashed out of her kitchen door,
waving her broomstick and flapping her
apron.
- ‘Shoo 1 shoo t get along! Ob ! Mr.
Bruce,’ she cried, spying the minister In
the widow's garden, ‘our pig has got out.
He’s a mean creetsr, and lately has took
tbe trick of lifting tbe pen door with his
nozzle.' ■ •
‘Our pig 1’ repeated the minister, lett
ing bis arms drop and his jaw fall, and
looking helplessly through bis glasses.
‘Why, Sally, I wasn’t aware we had a
pig. At least, that is, if.l did know it, it
must have slipped my mind. Really,
Mrs, Walcott, I am mortified. I’ll do
myself the pleasure of calling in soon and
seeing about tbe damage.’
. And be walked away hurriedly, in a
state of mental confusion impossible to
describe.
‘Hand alive!’ cried Sally, with her arms
resting on tbe broom handle, ‘not know
that we’d got a pig! Why, Miss Walcott
(but M.o aia'tiuvmua) lu LO CUU6 OftFO Ol
himself than a baby.’
Thera were many stories current con
cerning the parson’s absence of mind. It
was affirmed that on one occasion ha had
driven a distance, of some miles or more
to attend a meeting of bis clerical breth
ren, and leaving his horse tied to a post,
had walked home, and had not thought
of tbs nag again until the nextafternoon.
Now, after taking a little time to recover
from the shook he bad endured, tbe elder
directed Sally to send Widow Walcott a
basket of vegetables out of his own gar
den whenever she might deem such a gift
appropriate; and he himself, he said,
wouid call in and make a more fitting
apology.
A little later, Mrs. Spangler in the glo
ry of a black silk vlsite and fringed par
asol, came through the parsonage gate
and gave a loud and positive ring at the
door bell.
*1 want to see the elder, said she, as the
door opened, and Sally Reynolds appear
ed in her tidy afternoon calico, with the
cleanest of checked aprons, having the
ironed folds still visible. The words
were uttered In a tone of authority high
ly offensive to the minister’s domestic.
‘He’s busy, mum, and can not bo dis
turbed.’
‘Then I’ll Just step up stairs to his study
myself. I know he will see me.’
. This little skirmish always took place
between Sally Reynolds and Mrs. Spang
ler; and, as usual, Sally bounded up tbe
Staircase, and left tbe visitor to open the
parlor door for herself.
‘She Wasn’t agoing to let that Miss
Spangler poke round and pry into corners
and cubbeys.' She knew-tbat woman was
conjuring to get her daughter into the
parsonage. But she never would stay
there to take Minervy Spangler’s sass;
no, not she I’ ,
. And there dawned upon Sally a dim
nation that she bad been divinely ap
pointed to save the minister from tbe
machinations of tbe Mrs- Spanglers of bis
flock.
When the elder came down stairs,
with bis eyes blinking, very much as If
be bad walked away from a sbady world
of bis own, Mrs. Spangler had drawn
up the shade, aud seated herself in a
haircloth covered rocker, that gave a
jerk backward whenever the occupant
was offguard. She bad brushed off one
or two tidies, and spilled some water out
of a knobby vase which Sally had filled
with pinks and bachelor buttons, accord
ing to her own ideas of floral arrange
ment—liberties which Sally would cer
tainly resist.
As she bad sat there waiting ; she bad
pictured to herself how the prim, formal
room would look when Minerva came to
rule lu the parsonage, as she hoped she
would some day. Minerva would bring
her griondales for the mantlepiece, and
put a mirror between the windows.—
There would be a nice place against the
chimney for her picture and Hiram’s.
She would have the largest-sized photo
graph. and be taken with all her jewelry.
There wasa llttiestaok of daguerreotypes
ou the table, flanking the astral lamp.—
They were pictures of the first Mrs.
Bruce’s relations. Minerva would prob
ably pack them away la a trunk in the
attic; for daguerreotypes had gone out of
fashion, and it.wouidn't be in good taste
to have the first wife's things lying
round.
‘You’re such a stranger, folks have to
come and look you up,’ said Mrs. Spang
ler, as the parson entered. ‘Hiram and
me, we don’t mean to complain, or to
hint that wo have any more claims than
other folks. That ain't our way. Wo
don’t push ourselves forward. But folks
will talk; and there’s young minister
Nash, over to the alone church, going
around everywhere asking people to
come Co his meetings. The church wra
all. run down, but they say he Is bringing
it rlcht up. Of course, I don’t mean to
And a breath of fault, Brother Bruce ;
but we should like to see you over to our
bouse a little oftener.’
*l, know what my shortcomings are,
Sister Spangler, in respect to visiting, —
My people have much to bear. I some
times wonder at their patience and long
suffering, and 1 promise to mend. But
habits of mind are too strong. lam ab
sorbed in my great study—in trying to
And out the unsearchable riches, the
depth and sweetness of God’s Word. It
opens and unfolds before my sight until
I am quite Inst.’
The minister spoke these words to
himself, os if unconscious of the presence
of bis visitor; but the loud tones of her
voice soon brought him back to realities.
‘That’s Just like my Mlnervy,' said she.
‘You can’t think how that girl is wrapped
up in religion. I believe she- could sat
and hear you preach from morning until
night,Elder ever thinking
of a morsel to eai.“ She wonts to talk
over Sunday school matters, and Hiram
wanted to speak about engaging Brother
Ricketts to came over and bold a course
of meetings. They have been having a
glorious refreshing time at Spaulding,and
I should bate to let. the Spaulding folks
get ahead of us.’ .
•I am glad if God’s Spirit has been
made manifest to the people of Spaulding
bister Spangler; but it does not appeor
to me ibat the time Is rips for such eflorts
in our own church. I have nothing to
. soy against Brother Ricketts’ labors.—
- Doubtless In the good providence of God
ho has brought many to ..see the light;
. but all communities are not alike, and
there are romt among us who believe
the kingdom cometh quietly and without
observation. There are timed souls that
have been quickened. I see It in their
faces, and they have come and breathed
confessions into my ears ; but the flame
which burns but feebly as yet must be
nursed, and might be extinguished by
too rude a blast,’
‘Well,’returned Mrs.Spangler,untying
the strings of her bonnet, ‘ail that X have
to say Is, that I hope the enemy won’t
bo left to sow tares. There is Widow
Wolcott, over across the street. She’s
come from Clinton way, and whore tbe
■ Universaliats are as thick as hops; and I
don’t feel quite sure about her vlews.-r
Shq seems shy about talking of her own
experience.' ■
‘I should bo loth to condemn anybody
on that tbe parson, looking
intently tbroughnis glasses. ‘Those who
talk tbe most loudly about religion do
trot always have the most preclods witness,
in their hearts. It Is very much as it is
with a man’s “honesty. When be talks
a great deal about it, be is tobedlstrusted.
I am not deeply versed In worldly ways,
Sister Spangler ; but I have observed
enough to know that. The widow woman
-across tbe street ‘appears to be a quiet,
unpretending person ; aqd I should be.
sorry to entertain suspicions of her on
slight causes,’
‘Well, I must say she’s very close
mouthed about her affairs. , She don’t
tell much about her folks; but Hiram
found out that she draws money regular
from the bank, and the postmaster says
she gets heaps of letters. But, any way,
it don’t make much matter; for I dare
venture to say she won’t stay here long.
You never can place much dependence
ou them kind of folks—coming and going
like the old woman’s soap. I dropped-
In, Eider Bruce; to ask you to come over
and take tea with us to-morrow night.
Minervy has got heaps of things that
she wants to say to you, and she’d be
dreadful out up if you shouldn’t come.’
Tbs Elder gave the desired promise, and
Mrs. Spangler took her leave.
Tbe very next afternoon the good man
wiped his pen with a sense of relief. —
He had gone through all the mazes of
Original Sin, and his Sunday’s sermon
lay completed before him. It was not a
theme which he bad chosen from strong
sympathy of mind, for lils nature would
Incline him to the more tender and con
soling aspects of providential dealing ;
but he bad been prompted by a sense of
duty toward those in his congregation
who liked “doctrinal discourses.” His
heart was sompwbatsad with the remains
of a somber train of- thought, and as he
glanced again through his study window,
lie let his eye fall on the widow’s cozy
dwelling. There at the gate, playing
hither and yon.l-r in a streak f s«upled
suuoiiiim, with her light curls floating
airily about, was the little Mary. The
minister’s brow cleared at sight of her;
and be thought to himself that, if God
In bis goodness had sent him a daughter,
he would have her resemble.little Mary*.
He remembered tbe damage done to the
widow’s garden, and his promise to call;
so, taking‘his hat and stick. In less than
three minutes. he was. sitting in Mrs.
Walcott’s little parlor, with Mary on his
knee, who: pushed the silky curls away
from her blue eyes, to look shyly In his
face, that was good and pleasant in spite
of. its plainness. • The widow sat opposite
to him, and her black dress, relieved at
the throat by merely a suggestion of a
white ruffle. Her hair syas confined
under a little cap at tbe back, but in front
showed smooth brown bands- There was
a soft, feminine quality about her that
extended to tbe vase of lilies on the table,
and the few pictures oh the wall—the
lovely, meditative face of a yoUng girl, a
Madonna clasping her divine child—all
of them embodying,some sweet, pure
thought. Mrs. Walcott’s husband had
been a scholar in his time, and the wid
ow could not bring herself to part with
bis hooks. They filled one corner of the
room In solid, substantial rows, and tbe
-minister’s eyes turned greedily toward
them. There ‘ was a discovery in store
for him—a name was written on the fly
leaf of a volume which ho opened. It
was the name of an early friend, a youth
of beautiful promise, who had died young.
Mrs. Walcott proved, to be a younger
sister of this friend. Tbe minister forgot
all Sister Spangler's hints of imperfect
orthodoxy on the widow’s part; aud
when the sun was making a great splen
dor at the end of the village street, he
still lingered In the widow’s little parlor.
‘Stay and take tea with me,’ said she.
Now, that he knew who the, widow
was, with recollections of the tenderest
friendship of his early years coming back
to warm his heart, it seemed to him that
he could do nothing less than comply.
A cool,sweet breeze wasstlrring the vines
in the window. The tea table, too, was
pleasant, with, its clear honey, tbe snow
white bread, and shaking mound of ruby
Jelly, and basket of golden pound, cake, -
Seldom had tbe.minister's speech flowed
in such a limped stream. He forgot what
was ou bis plate, and betook himself to a
dish of cheese, which he soon consumed
without knowing it. The pickles would
have shared tbe same fate bad not tbe
widow dexterously shoved them out of
the way, and put something much more
digestible in their place.
When the parson went homo that
night, his heart was somehow full of
gladness. He reflected upon, what “an
excellent tbingis asoft voice In woman;”
and it was not until ho had blown out
his candle and got into bed that he Chen
remembered that be bad broken bis en
gagement with Bister Spangler. The
next morning Minerva Spangler, who
had called at Mrs. Wolcott's to collect
her subscription to the Mite Society, dis
covered the minister’s.cane, which he
had left in a cornet of the widow’s par
lor. There was a chivalrio vein under
tbe parson’s plain exterior, and his early
memories made a bond ol intimacy be
tween him and Widow Walcott, which
he fully recognized. He could defend
and protect her now. He learned bis
way easily Into the widow’s cottage, and
came to know her store of bosks almost
as familiarly as ids own ; but still the
general parish visiting did not thrive
much belter than it ever had done. He
went and came, quite unconscious of the
clamor of tongues in tbe gossips' houses.
But Widow Walcott's heart was troubled.
She bad seen enough of the simplicity
and goodness of the man to learn to re
verb him; but her eyes were clear, and
saw that a storm was brewing.
So the weeks of summer slipped away,
and autumn came, and made the maple
before Widow Walcott's-house to flame'
like the burning bush. Parson Bruce
was well aware by this time that a party
in bis church was siirriug up strife. It
was'whispered about that his usefulness
in Bkittleton was at an end; and Sister
Spangler was in favor of calling. Elder
Itlckelts, tbs great revivalist, who would
certainly make it too hot for sinners.—
The very morning of the day had come
when a church meeting was tobe held,
which would decide the minister’s fate.
It was a sore trial to him; for there his
children bad been .born, bis wife bad
died, and the deepest and tenderest of
tbe experiences of bis life had been lived
through. He rose from bis knees, and
opened tbe Bible, with a view to selecting
a text for a farewell sermon, when Sally
knocked at the door, and announced that
Mrs. Spangler was below.
‘I am sorry for tbe dissensions in the
church, Brother Bruce,’ said bis visitor,
as she entered tbe room. ‘You know
how Hiram and mo has always worked
and labored for you. It’s a fact, though
we dont mean to boast. Minervy is
swathed in tears: I’m afraid she’s going
into a decline. There’s all sorts of sto
ries flying about, and a body don’t know
what to believe. Folks do say you mean
to marry the Widow Walcott, though
I’ve kep’ a denying of ft. Tbe truth is,
she ain’t popular. Everybody knows
bow conniving widows is, an’ she’s done
all she could to encourage the stories;
but, if you’d give me leave to tell round
that you haln’t no notion of marrying
her, it would smooth things off.’
The abstraction all went out of the
minister’s face, and something like a
flush of indignation tinged its sallowness.
‘No!’ said he controlling himself with
an effort, ‘lf it can be shown that 1
have been an unfaithful steward, or have
failed to break tbe bread of life for the
people, lam ready to go; but I cannot
give the pledge you ask. It would be a
sin against that sacred inner seif, where
the stranger meddletb not.
VOL 58.-No.il.
Mra. Spangler wont away, but she
stopped a moment at the kltohcn*doot to
speak to Sally Reynolds. ‘So It seems
vou J re going to have a new mistress,
Sally/ said she. ‘The elder has as good
as told me that ho means to marry the
Widow Walcott. You’ll have to mind
your P's and Q's then, Bally.. ,
‘There's no fear but I shall not like
anybody my master brings Into the
hotiae,' replied Sally, snappishly, scrub
bing away at the kitchen table, that was
already as white as milk. .‘But, if he d
some folks that was always rea’dy to
here. I'd hjave
cleared out at a moments notice.' “
The air was soft and;hazy that day,
and the flying gold of the trees made a
bright path between his house and the\
widow's cottage, which seemed to woo
the minister's feet. He took down his
favorite books, but be could not read ;
then be went out for a long walk through
the fields; and when he came back It
was evening, and there was a light in
the cottage window. Bo ho stepped to
the door and knocked. Mrs. Walcott,
with a lamp in her band, came to tho
door and opened It.
‘Mary,' said he, and his voice was
tremulous, ‘I have come to ask you to be
my wife. I think he, my early friend,
would be glad if ho could know. My
boys will welcome your child as sister;
and, if your neart inclines toward me
Mary, I shall be very happy, whatever
happens.
The widow placed her hand in hia,
and although no kieses passed between,
them, the bond was sealed.
A little later, the minister was sitting
at home in his room, when Deacon El
der's loud ahem! was heard on the step.
‘Brother Bruce,' said he, as he entered,
‘l've Just drooped in, though it is late, to
tell you about the meeting.’
‘Don't try to spare my feelings,' re
sponded the minister. *1 am prepared
to hear the worst.'
‘Glad to hear It,' said the Deacon, in
bis dry way; ‘for the worst won't kill ye.
We voted down the Grumblers the very
flrst tblng. Let you go !. Of course we
don't mean to. There was enough said
fo make you a vain man, Jf you was not
proof ag’in all such folly; and we’re go
ing to add another couple of hundred to
your salary. You never asked for It; bnt
we know your boys are coming along to
** 8 Tho °pais6n got hold of the Deacon's
hand and wrung it bard, although Just
then he was incapable of speaking. Mrs.
Bruce —who was.the 'Widder Walcott'-: —
In .time came to be known- and loved.
Hiram Spangler’s family left the church
and went over to Mr. Nash; and Bister
Spangler has never ceased talking of the
shameful ingratitude, of Elder Bruce.
A CURIOUS LAWSUjT.
The Calcutta Englishman of June 16th
says ; “The Titcbborne Baronetcy case,
now the subject of such intense interest
at home, recalls to our mind a somewhat
similar case which happened in tbit part
of the world some thirty years ago. We
allude to thecaseof the pretended claim
ant to the Burdwan Gaddi, which at the
time created, the utmost excitement all
over Bengal. The stake then played for
was greater by far, for if the Tlchborne
estates are worth £40,000 per annum, the
Burdwan Bajah had an annual income
of £l3o.ooo,beside a vast sum accumulated
by the old Bajah and his ancestors. The
Burdwan Chief, like the patriarch of old,
had “a son, an only son,’’ who, as the
story goes,, when a youth,"while bathing
one day in the river, suddenly
«a. no unc coma tell what -become of
him. As may, well be supposed, every
possible and impossible search was made;
and, ns the body was not found, the gen
eral belief was that the heir apparent to
the Burdwan Bajah was not drowned.
The old Bajah, after years of grief, and
.when every quest for bis lost heir had
proved fruitiesss, adopted a son, who is
at this present day the Bajah of Burdwan.*
Fourteen years after the mysterious dis
appearance of the youthful heir apparent,
and not long after the death of the old
Bajah, a claimant turned up, insisting
upon bis right to the Burdwan Gaddi as
the legal heir. He proceeded, with a
strong following, in which he was very
substantially assisted by native zemin
dars, to take possession of bis own, but
he received an effectual check in his
career by the interposition of. the local
Magistrate, Mr. Ogilvis. The pretended
Bajah was publicly denounced as an im
poster, and it was proved that his real
name was Aiuk Shah, and not Partab
Chaudar Singh, the missing heir. Sub
sequently the pretended Bajah found an
adherent and zealous supporter in the
person of a Calcutta babu of wealth, and
through whom he. was enabled to secure
the professional services of one of the
acuteat and most energetic of attorneys,
Whose technical skill and persistent zeal
on behalf of his client enabled him, in a
comparatively short time, to make a tol
erably good fortune. A long course of
lltiirafion, first in the Burdwan Courts,
and then In the Supreme Court, followed.
The legal proceedings were sometimes
criminal, and sometimes civil, but they
extended over n duration of two or three
years. Altogether they were ruinously
costly, and the claimant Bajah and his
friends were soon made to feel that they
were by no means an equal match, In a
pecuniary point of view, with those who
were opposed to him, possessed as they
were with untold wealth. The upshot
was that the pretender went to the wall,
and died in abject poverty, and the pos
sessor of the Gaddi remained, as ho.is to
this day, the Bajah of Burdwan.”
California Wonders.— Near thecon
fines of Fresho, Tulare and Inyo counties,
on the head waters of the Keweh, there
exists a remarkable piece of country. The
Indians say it Is the abiding place of the,
Evil Spirit. The country is rugged and
rooky—mountainous, with deep valleys
and precipitous cliffs. Snakes, reptiles,
and vermin of every description abound
in untold numbers, and, taken In all. It
is a wild and most uninviting region.—
But, aside from all this, a most curious
phenomenbu exists. The ground trem
bles and quakes almost continuously,
and the abundant rooks grind and grit
together as if helng.urgod by some terri
ble influence. Frequently deep discharges
are beard, muffled and dull, like the
distant sound of heavy artillery, and at
night the sounds seem to be more abun
dant than in the day time. No Indian
can be induced to venture near the place,
regarding it with superstitious horror.—
No theory has been advanced by any one
to account for the strange phenomena
mentioned. Wo also learn from William
Famonvlile that above the bead of Crane
Valley, in this country, another place
similar to the one mentioned exists, and
persons who have visited the last place
named describe the sound mentioned as
like muffled thunder.—San Francisco
Bulletin.
The Yankee Factory Girls.—ln
one of the factories In Maine, recently tbo
proprietors reduced the wages of those
employed,whereupon there was a general
determination to cease .'operations, and,
as they were obliged to give a month’s
notice before quitting, they bad mean
while Issued a circular to the world at
large, In which 1s the following isterest-
Ing paragraph : “ Wo are now working
out our notice—can turn our hands to
most anything—don't wish to bo idle—
but determined not to work for nothing
where people can afford to pay. Who
wants help? We can make bonnets,
dresses, puddings, pies, roast, stew, fry;
make butter and cheese; milk cows and
feed poultay, hoe corn, sweep out tbs
kitchen, put the parlor to rights, make
beds, split wood, kindle fires, wash and
iron, besides being remarkably fond of
babies; in fact can do anything the most
accomplished housewlfea are capable of
doing, not forgetting the scoldings on
Mondays and Saturdays ; for specimens
of spirit wo will refer you to our oyer
seer. 1 ’
ftates for
adtertiskicx2its wui be inserted aVTen;cents
per line for the first insertion, and five cent*
per lino for each subsequent Insertion. Quar
terly half-yearly, and yearly advertisements In
erted at a liberal reduction on the above rates
Advertisements should be accompanied by the
Gash. Wnen sent.without any length oi time
specified for publication, they will be continued
untllordered out and onarged accordingly.
jobpbinting. .
CAHBS'HAimniud.OißdutiAßS, and every olh
or description of Job and Gabo Printing,
SOMMER FLOWERS.
When skies are bright, fend Nature’s face
Of sadness knows no sbfedpw.
And Summer's band is clear to trace
In woodland and In meadow;
What tlmo the long-lost summer-sun
Laughs on tho laughing hours—
Hinted by Spring oro Spring was done—
We plack (ho summer flowers.
Or ball’d In garden’s rich parlort©", -
Or by the hedgerow wild,
, tWhore cultured fragrance steeps the air.
Or where, by breezes mild.
Nurtured spontaneous, Summer’s store
yulflTs'tWTpledgO’Of Spring,’ —
We search the flowery treasure o’er,
Which summer bounties bring. «
Those summer flowers, where’er they be,'
In wild or tutor’d places, ,
Are sweet; bat ab. more sweet ty see
■ Are yonder summer faces I
And'summer flowers, from out their bed
When pluck’d by girlish hand.
Show best encircling girlish head
Within tholr odorous band/ J ’ 1
\y Then gather flowers while yet you may;
Life’s opening sweetness cherish.
Ere age shall shadow youth’s glad day.
Ere life’s one summer perish.
Ah mo I you merry girlish crow,
Youc laugher speeds tho hoars;
Your flowers are very fair, bat you -
Are summer’s choicest flowers.
A REMARKABLE BOY.
Farmer Bogles was a veracious old
codger. IF there was anytUiug he de>
lighted in, it was to secure the attention
of some one while he spun a yarn about
the wonderful ’cuteness of bis son Tom.
Tom was his idol—his hero on every
occasion—and never would the old fel
low let his hero suffer for want of a ro
mancer.
‘Ahi’ said Bogles, one day, as he bad
fairly fixed hjs auditor, 'Tom is the most
remarkable boy you over set your eyes
on; he's like his.old dad—you can’t no
more sarcumvent him than you can a
woodchuck. You recollect that apple
tree that stood down Under the bill,' be
side the stump fence? Well, I was
mighty, savin' o' them apples, I can tell
you. I forbid Tom touchln"em. aathey
brought a big price In the market, and
every ouwxoiS, one he would get'em in
spite o’ me. It was his way,,you know,
and ail posessed could’nt stop. him.", One
day I caught the young scapegrace up In
the tree, stuffin’ bis sack with the fruit,
and I determined this time to punish
him for it.
•Thomas, my son,’ says I, ‘your fath
er’s callin’ye—come down.’ ■ -
I thought I’d be sort o’ persuasive, so
it would fetch him; but he smelt the rat,
and didn’t budge an Inch. '
‘I can’t dad,’ said he; 'these pesky ap
ples are In the way.’
‘Tom,’ I continued, sternly, for my
dander begun to rise, 'come down this
minlt, or I’ll cut down the tree, and let
yer fall.
‘You-see my poor old limbs wouldn’t
permit my shinin' after the boy, so I bad
to take other means. • ,
‘O, no you won’t, dad,’ says Tern;
'only think how ‘you’d mourn rlf ye
couldn’t sell the apples to stuff the old
toad-akin.’
That was too much— to have my own
boy accuse me of such paralmunny. Ho
what does I do but git the axe and cut
away at the bottom of the tree.
‘Tom —Thomas,’ I cried, os the tree
was about cut off, ‘will ye come down
now, and save yourself.’
‘Never mind, dad.’ aava-ho
spiinnv . •
It was no use; 1 couldn’t bring him
that way; and so I chopped away at the
tree, till, at last, it began to sway and fell
to the ground.
. ‘What I and crushed your own boy 7’
ejaculated his horrified listener.
‘Not by a long chalk,’ replied old Bo
gles, winking knowingly. ‘You couldn’t
come It oyer Tom In any such way.—
What had he done but crawled out on a
limb, and while I was ohoppln’ at the
bottom o’ the tree,'lie bad been cutting
off the limb with bis Jack-knife, and
when the tree fell, there he. was still up
there on the limb,'
Bun* off with a Citizen.!—The
pranks of the devil fish are becoming
frequent of late. One of these horrible
looking creatures of the deep, whose ap
pearance in the waters of the Southern
Coast are somewhat unfrequent has
been around there of late by endeavor
ing to spirit away an old, resident of
Savannah. One , day Major Bonand,
was fishing in Warsaw Sound, near
Cabbage Island) his boat being anchor
ed. By some, means or'other the
devilfish became entangled in the
anchor rope and started off at a rapid
rate of speed, towing the boat after him,
with the occupants in no very pleasant
frame of mind. The situation, became
so decidedly unpleasant, that it yaa,
thought best to cut'the rope and let the
fish go fancy free. This was accordingly
done, much to the relief of the fisher
men, and the creature took Its way. in
peace.
A clergyman, while wending bis
way to church, one Sunday morning,
caught sight of the two sons of one of his '
parishioners going in to the woods, evi
dently for the purpose of bunting. Feel
ing certain that anything like direct re
monstrance with the young gentlemen
themselves would scarcely turn them
from their ways, ho waited until after x
preaching, and sought the old gentleman, /
their father. After reoountlngdha.olr
cuasstance of meeting Billy and Sammy,
as he had, done, he closed the appeal by
inquiring why they had not been brought
up'in the fear of the Lord? ' ’Fear of the
Lord, parson—fear of the Lord I, Why
they heyi They’re so ’feared of Him
new they dursn’t go out on Sunday .
without double-bar'l’dshot-gnnson their
shoulders.'
Hearth ane Home says, an atmos
phere impregnated with the dust which
has been gathered in carpets, and has
remained therefor a donsloerablelpngth
of time is positively unhealthy.; The
dust, after being stagnant far some titqe,
especially ,in warm weather, presents
myriads of animalculte. To prevent the
evil, the carpets should be cleaned of
ten. Tho trouble of taking up,, shaking
and replacing 'Will bo amply repaid,
first, in tne' matter of health, aha, se
condly, in preserving the carpet.
Dean Bams ay tells a story of a Scotch
beadle who had taken a fancy to the
manse housemaid. At a loss for an op
portunity to declare himself, one day—
a Sunday—when his duties were ended,
he looked sheepish, and said: “ Mary,
wad ye tak’ a turn, Mary?” He ledher
to the churchyard, and, pointing with
his finger, got out, “My fowk lie there,
Mary; wad ye like to lie there?’’ The
grave hint was taken, and she became
his wife, but she does n‘ot yet He there,
This la positively the latest dodge in
villainy. A chop in the city, being very
hard up for a pair of boots, hit upon this
method of getting an outfit. He can Imi
tate a serenading cat first rate, and so he
went into the back yard of a house a few
nights pgo, and carefully concealing him
self, began a moat internal caterwauling,
when, presently, such a shower of boots,
shoes, blacking missies, &0., rained out
upon him from the baok windows in the
neighborhood, that be found no trouble
In getting enough to last him for a year.
A youno lady thought it would be in
teresting to faint at an evening party re
cently, when one.of the company began
bathing berhead with vinegar upon which
starting up, she exclaimed 'For goodness'
sake put nothing on that will spoil the
color of my hair I’
‘I ain’t