®I)C American Volunteer.
lU , |Slir ,D EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
■ D y
B OBATTON * gIWKTOY.
0 f fICE-HOH™ MtBKEI N«IUAUE.
„„._Two Dollars per year If paid strlcl.y
1 two Dollars and Fitly Cents If paid
l,i advance, . fter w ulch Three Dollars
WltU l“ lar«d terms win bo rigidly ad
WI " ;:“ ,W Instance. No snbserlptlon d.s
“'■rMnned until all arrearages are a ald, nnlcss at
M°i" option of the Editors. ■
cratps.
'7.'b,'q.>Al.AM. I .1. n. GRAHAM, Jr.
j m JI. GJtA HA 31 & SON,
Attorneys $ Counsellors at laiv
}(o.HJSoiill>Hono v <!r
Pa. •
T TT nnAHAM Ifttfl President Jud fio of
practice of tnoia.l will practice In the
tiC3. ■- - -
jjSrfib STATES CLAIM
' AND
HEAL ESI ATE AO EECY.
WM. B. BUTLEE, .
ATTOBNEY AT LAW,
1n Franklin House, South HanovorStreot
is"f%s«iSrSi*!3 oencios ° poataseatamp ' ■
July U. 1870— tf :
Tjl E. BEIiTZUOOVEK,
'attorney-at-law,
CARLISLE. PA.
„»-nfflce on South Hanover Street, opposite
goods store.
Lee. 1 .-IKUS-
| JUMRICH & PARKER,
, )nloo HalCOa,
Geo. s. e m ,i o .
ATTORNEY- at-law,
Office with S. Hopburn, .Ir.
East Main Sired,
CABbiSIiK, PA.
Fob. 2,'71-ly ■-
WKri’MNEDY, ATTORNEY ■VI' liAW
C«ll«le. t>onnV Office name na tlmtol
1110 A*norlcan Volunteer.
Doc. I- • ; ~
PAR. GEOHUR SS
\J tisi. S’rmn ti e 4aU,mare^ o[ / moUler
SSutbe“at?eetftbvee doors below Bedford
Carlisle, Ponnft.
Dec. 1 1800.
'39ato-anli vEaus.
T> AIiCiAINS IN
HATS AND CAPS
At KELLBK’S. 17 North Hanover B‘rcet
"! e CAPa "hkHatll'Siw Ynr“k tlud WiHntloi:
prices, « atß ‘’'..fT"'Vt vet' Lo=llng, Mixed
np. Cloth Bute, in Bio of u £ yll , autl
at till prl-
MEN
BOY'S,
b ®fiATS d orn P ny lt"Sd mado y and repaired to
order, oa short ““M’S". * KBt/LEB, Agent,
No. 15 North Hauover Street.
Sept 2S, ’7l—tf. ,
JJJATS AND CAPS T
DO YOU WANT A NICE HAT OE CAD ?
IF SO. DON'T FAIL to CALL ON
J. G. GALLIC),
NO. 20. T VESI MAIN STREET;
Wbeve can be seen the llaest asaorWQon^ of .
SA T S AND. LA r o
.. r-oriinle. Ho tates great pleas
over brought to friends auM customers,
aere la Inviting uls solemUd «-'OClc lust re
-Ba‘f“moNmvmoNmv Vort aSd Phliadelplik. con-
HATS,
besides an nTth
iTkna °'™ n “ mufaoturo
rials always on hand. ana
HATH MANUFACTURED TO ORDER.
and all Itlnusof Woolo 9 j every week) and
Aisofa dno iot of
choice brands of •
tobacco and cigars
.ways on band, Ho desires to ball thoattontion
, ol .ersonswbohave TKYFUKs
loseii, as ho pays tbe highest cash prices for bo
same. . »h« above number,his »!d
of giving entire sa-lfl
'aClLtt. 28, ,71—tf. -
iHf GOODS
,REAL VALUE
HARPER’S !
SOUTH HANOVER STREET.
If vou vnnln nice ( ’ T^ l' 1 S,?,^*\v"RAPPER,
"SS^ R
It you want, a ".."optilllA FLiANNKL,
if you waul a lilco m ' SHAWL,
If you want, a COL LAR
If you want a Hanoso Handkerchief
If you wll “ l f;„"C r u kuuings CHEAP,
If you wan t Hamburg l LAUI ,- B CHEAP,
OAL L A T .
barfers.
■ n |?7 l n l D.S" l tsL«£l e
kola. Ila mols, wait f i M r f no shins and
S^fe-AiiS'irjaffii
SS-SSS^w«B
on this stilo of tho i-ustoiu Llt ,{f; A , haRPER.
Joseph Kills, Sl.o®.
Oct. 5 71—Ow.
pOOD NEWS FOR THE PEOPLE
J. ELLIOTT,
(Successor to J. W. Smlloy,)
No. M NORTH HANOVER STREET,
CAItLiaLK, PA.
Has Just, opened a large and splendid asso.t
MIL AN II WINTER GOODS,
CONSISTING OF
OLOTHB 6,VBSI M l i REB ( ATiNGi
, ’ VESTINGS. &G
° f tho BEST PRACTICAL OUTTEBS
In PdrllHlo together with a number of the Beat
MRnmene
Block of ,
BEADY-MADE CLOTHING,
„> ~„m e manufacture, which ho will sell ns cheap
n« Overcoats on hand or made to
5? for. I will lot no man anderaoll mo. A largo
Sad complete stock of prime Winter
Boots. Shoes* Gaiters*
’ nf Bverv variety, style and quality, for gents
files' SM’. lidy»’ and oh.ldron, made to
fader 'All to bo sold cheap, cheaper, cheapest.
Also, *a great variety of
HATS,
- inicnt Ktvlos and best qualities, together with
?ff?,f.oUai‘ortmontof Motion’s and oont's
a Beiiorulaa oruji Uo not mil to give me a call
Famlwhln« l Ba i eHa ncl Hinull profits.” s.
Mymotto la Quick «*** . JOHN E £ LIOTT#
Sept. 21.1871— Bm.
-r-»rvn rtcnTTbe large Becoud-aUtry
.'•. . . .
. . . ,
. .
. .
• . ,-
• .
. .
~.-• * . . .
, . .
. ,
. ...
. .
.e
, 111 .
eti.,,A . --,...: .-, . . , ~ F
-• ' • ~ ~ ~
4 ,
, ' ' . ii 11 1.,:1/4" )
~,,
1
4 ..... _.
4....„, • .. • .
.
\N''A. * r ;
. .
I
IpoclicaL
THE OtDEST CHRISTIAN HYMN.
In Book lit. of Cloraont of Alexandria, Is
given (In Greek) tho most ancient hymn of the
p.rJmlllvo
and fifty years after the apostles) asserted to bo*
oft much earlier origin, it may have been sung
by the “beloved disciple” before ho ascended to
hla reward. The” following Aslou will give
some Imperfect idea of its spirit:
Shepherd of tender youth,
Guidjng in love and truth,
Through devious ways j
Christ, our triumphant King !
Wocomo thy name to sing,
And hero our children bring,
To shout thy praise.
Thou art pur Holy Lord !
Tho nil-subduing Word.
Healer of strife I
• Thou didst thyself abase.
That from sin’s deep disgrace
f Thou ralghlest save opr race,
And give us life.
How dare you play such a trick on
me 1 she exclaimed iu turn, grasping the
sign which hung at her door, and cast
ing it at him with all her might.
‘ “ I, hnadam ;-wouldn’t pick -up your
sign in the street, so don’t imagine that
I would put it at my door.”
‘‘And I would as quick touch aaiiake
■ as anything heiriogyour name'"
Ever bo thou our guiae „ wenk sllbter(U ge, madam.!’
Our shepherd and our pride, 1
Thou art wisdom’s high priest!
Thou hast prepared the feast.
Of holy love!
And in mir mental pain
NonecaHs on, thee In vain
Help thou dost not disdain,
Help from above.
Our stuff nm! song!
Jeans I Thou riirlst of God!
By the perennial Word,
Lend us where thou linst trail,
our faith strong.
fcio now, and till wo'die,
Sound wo thy praise ou high,
. And joyful sing.
Infants, and the glad throng,
Who lathy Church belong,
Unite and swell the song
' To Christ our King!
IPsdlimtmis.
the doctor AND THE dressmaker.
' BY BKI-LA FRENCH.
The Doctor came first to our village.
He tvaa a tall, dark, aour-looking indi
vidual, a little on the shady aide of forty.
He called himself a widower, and waa
rather handsome too, but for all that the
girla failed to set.their caps for him, asria
generally the case where single gentle
men take up their abode in our place.
I don’t think that he' got many pa
tients at first, for all ho bad a sign with
A. M. Rose, M. D., in gilded letters,
above the door of his office.
He had hot been in our village more
than a month when Mrs. Wivgius, the
dressmaker, arrived, and fitted up a shop
just opposite the doctor’s office.
The dressmaker was also tall and dark,
;but unlike the doctor, she had a peaked
nose and sharp black eyeS.
They were a strange pair, for, though
they never spoke to each other and
neither owned having made the otherls
acquaintance, they took care to throw
themselves in each other’s way and by
their actions to show their contempt for
each other.
If the doctor chanced to be passing the
dressmaker’s shop slam would go the
door in his face, and if the dressmaker
chanced to bo passing the doctor’s office,
the worthy M, 1). would turn away as
though disgusted beyond measure.
People soon saw the two were trying to
annoy each other, and some of the mis
chievously inclined resolved to help them.
One morning we were all astonished at
seeing the doctor and dressmaker had
exchanged signs. This made considers-:
ble sport, for neither of the two seemed
to Know anything about the matter, and
of course no one took the trouble to in
form either.
Now it happened on that day that a
couple of strangers came into our village
from the country. They had been mar
ried but a tew weeks, and the.foud hus
band, as soon as lie came to town, pur
chased a new dress for his bride.
‘I think Charles,’ she said, 'that I will
have It cut by a dressmaker before going
•home, for X miaht not get the chance
again for a mouth.’
■Very well, my love,’ returned the
husband. 'There is one just ahead of us;
you can step.in there.’
‘And there is a doctor’s sign on the
other side, Charles. While lam getting
my dress cut you ean’drop in at the doc
tor’s and get that medicine for Mr. Groh.’
‘So I cun, Julia, for I am glad you re
minded me of it, or T should have torgot
eu it.’
And tlie two parted, one going into the
doctor's' ofllce with her dress, and the
other into tho dressmaker's shop to pro
cure some medicine.
•Hern !' coughed tiie latter, bowing be
fore Mrs." Wiggins; is your husband at
home, madam ?’
‘And pray who told you I had a hus
band ask ed-i n-relurn
■Hem l a mistake—your brother, I
mean,’ apologized the young man.
,‘XIy brother? I have no brother.’
1 VVell, it is tho doctor I wish to see,
madam.’
‘The doctor, sir!' Do you mean to
lusult me ?’
1 Why, no, I saw the sign and—’
‘ You must be drunk !’ she exclaimed,
‘ why mine is a dress-
indignantly ;
maker’s sign.’
' I beg your pardon, madam, but lei
me request you to read for yourself, and
you will find that —*
■ As'lf I don’t know what is on my.
own sign!’ she interrupted, rising hastily,
and going to the door.
‘ The wretch !' she cried, as her eyes
rested on the doctor’s name.’ - 1 To think
that he dared do such a thing! I'll tear
his eyes out 1’
While this interesting scene was being
enacted at the dressmaker’s, another no
less.to that was transpiring at the doc-
tor'9.
When Julia left her husband, she
tripped up stairs arid knocked lightly at
the door of the doctor’s office.
The worthy M. D., answered the sum
mons in person. •• •
Supposing him to be the husband of
the dressmaker, she made known her
business at once, by saying, ‘ I came
sir to have a dress cut.’
. A dresk out!’ ho repented in astonish
ment. ‘I don’t out dresses.’
*Ah L air, I beg pardon, - 1 thought thal
Mrs. Wggina resided here.’
* Mra. Wiggins! No, indeed, ma’am.
that amiable person holds forth on, the.
other side of the street. Though If vou
don’t want your dress spoiled you’d bel
ter keep away from her-’ , , ,
‘Doesn't she have any sign,’ asked
the little lady wondorlngly.
• Why yea, don’t you see iiVf
The doctor popped out his head, but
Instead of reading Mrs. Wiggins, he
read A. M* Kona, M. D.
‘Thuuder and lightning!* he ex
claimed, ' she has been stealing my
sign!’ . ; • . ' ■ -
.‘And .you.Jiave..been_ateal,i.pg 7 hers,
judging from the name at the door, re
turned Julia. x .
Down went the .doctor in a heat of
passion, and giving one glance at the
dressmaker’s sign, he tore it from Its
fastenings, and bearing it in his haudrf
made his way acr*ss the street, and the
very moment that Mrs. Wiggins made
the discovery Of his sign hanging at her
.door.
' * How dare you, madam’—he cried,
‘ how dare you play Such a trick on
me?’ throwing the bit ol painted tin at
her feet.
“ A weak subterfuge, sir."
“If you put your sign at my door
again, I shall throw it into the street,
madam.”
"If you. put your sign at my door
again, I will put it into the fire, sir.”
"And you need not mind gaping at
me all'the time from your window.
Your face is not so attractive, as to charm
me, though goodness knows I can never
look out hut J see it the first thing.”
' “ Which proves, sir, that yon are look
ing lor it. Indeed you are always sprawl
ing out before that Aiiidow, and if I try
rtiy best to keep my eye? away yon will
hark, so that I will take notice of yon.”
"lain not a dog, madam, though you
must be a cat, judging from the way you
pirn- about your customers. I detest
cats.”
'Not more than I detest you, sir. 1
‘ I want none o( your slang.’
1 Aud 1 want none of yours.’
‘Go into the house and mind your
business; don’t you see what a great
crowd your long tongue is drawing here?’
Mt is your own touguo that is calling
them this way.’
‘I should I hint that it was both of
your tdngnes, said the-farmer.’
‘lndeed!’ exclaimed Mrs. Wiggins,
flouncing into the house.
‘lndeed!’ echoed the. doctor, turning
away in disdain.
‘ I think dear,’ said the farmer to his
wife, ‘ that we will go elsewhere for
what we wish.’
‘Yes, Charles, I* will, not patronize
either of them.’
And the young wife took her husband's
arm and the two walked away from the
crowd of tittering villagers.
This incident was the town talk for a
whole week, and, in the meantime, the
people made up their minds that Mrs.
Wiggins and Dr. Rose must ho in some
way related, but how they could not
decide. ,
All were anxious to learn something ol
the two, consequently Hie doctor found
more patients and the dressmaker more
work in her line, than either would have
done otherwise.
But the mischievous one who had
changed the signs had succeeded so well
in making sport, that he resolved to try
again. Accordingly, one morning, the
dressmaker received the following notei
.'Will the. fair Mrs. Wiggins pardon
the writer of this epistle for daring to
address her?’ fie has seen and admired
her, and wishing to make lier acquaint
ance, takes this way to introduce him-
‘ If the fair Mrs. Wiggins is inclined
to look favorably on his suit, she will
please address a reply to Hers truly
And the same morning that the dress
maker received the above, the doctor
came in possession of a neat, perfumed
note, which informed him that a lady of
mt village had become charmed with
is personal appearance and wished to
sen a correspondence with.him. The
ote was signed ‘ Agues Avery.'
Of course both these epistles were an
swered, and both answers fell into the
hands of the hinny man who happened
to be the clerk of the pt.sl-olTiee,.
A correspondence between him and the
two followed, which, of course was very
amusing ; but lie was obliged to end it at
last, for b itli the doctor and .dressmaker
were anxious ■ for an interview; alio,
with tlie Adonncs who had become
enamored by her charms, and lie with
tlie fair lady who felt suah an interest in
The correspondence had been earned
on about three weeks, when’ one day the
dressmaker received a letter full of love
and such nothings, but which ended
• i wish very much to see you; dear
Mrs. Wiggins, but tho doctor over the
way keeps sueli a sharp watch 'that I
have been fearful lest lie has a prior
claim. Indeed, bo lias been known to
declare that be would murder the man
who would dare marry you. Bo you see,
my love, wo must be very careful. I
will await you twilight at precisely 8
o’clock, on the road near the one-mile
bridge. Como disguised, for fear the
doctor might be following. Wear a blue
veil and I shall know yon. Good-by
until then, dearest lady.
' From your admirer,’
‘ A. P. Bpaiue.'
While Mrs. Wiggins was gazing smi
lingly upon the bit of .note paper which
she held before her, the Doctor sat In bis
office, reading the following :
‘ A® you seem to be so anxious for an
Interview, I have resolved to grant you
one to-night. Meet me at 8 o’clock, on
ibe road near the one-mile bridge; I
shall come disguised, and wish you to
do the same, lor fear that wo may be
watched. I will wear a blue veil, and
you may put a rose In your cop. Thus
each may recognize the other without
trouble.’
‘Till to night, good-bye. A. A.
The Doctrr rm bed his hands as ho
finished reading.
. I am glad 1’ he exclaimed ; ‘ glad thot
everything happened Just as it did ; glad
that wo hud the quarrel; yes, glad about
everything.’, -i
That evening the Doetor'left his office
precisely half-past seven;:’o’clock, and
' took bis way toward the one- mile bridge,
">1 win bo there curly.’ he mused us he
walked along. * It is very. uncomfortable
for a lady to have to wait onion a lonely
road at night, and then she might be
noticed.’ - ■ -
Fifteen minutes after the-doctor had
left tiis olllce the dreeamaker, attired in
a suit of deep mourning, ghded out of
lief shtip aud tool? herVay up the-same
dlreo'ion that the doctor had, taken.
‘I have the blue veil safe in my'pocket, 1
she said to herself, ‘ hut I will udt put it
gh until 1 got beyond the village, for
(bar I may attract attention. .1 do wonder
what sort of a chop that Blaire is ? A
good looking one I dare say, and if he is
well to in the world, X shall cease to
regret that quarrel with— pshaw, I never
did regret it.’ ~
On she walked in the soft summer twi
light, thinking of the past, the present,
aud the future.
It was nearly a mile to the bridge, and
the shadows had deepened,,and the stars
had come,out in the clear sky above, ere
she reached the trysling place. (At last a
bend in the road brought her in sight of.
the bridge aud also of the doctor, who
was walking along momentarily expect
ing to greet the lady who had become so
interested in him*
As soon as kits. Wiggins distinguished
the form of a man on the road before
her, she thought of her veil, aud, Inking
it from her pocket, she tilre\v *it over
her bonnet. .
As the doctor observed tin. token of
recognition, ho rushed forward with ex
tended hands itud exclaimed :
1 My dear Agnes, this meeting gives me
the greatest of.pleasure?’
‘Agnes!’ echoed Mrs. Wiggins mental
ly. ‘Surely the man must be. going
cra/.y. 'My name is not .Agnes and I
never signed myself so in the world.
However, I will nut pietend to notice
the mistake; for mistake it must he.’
Then aloud, ‘ I am sure Mr. Blalie that
the meeting is as great a pleasure to my
self as to you, and—'
‘Mr. whom did.you say?’ interrupted
the Doctor.’, v
‘Why, Mr. Blaire of oqurse,’ returned
itis companion.
■ I lear you are making game of me
Miss Avery.’
‘ My name is not Mias Avery.’ •
‘ And mine 1s not Mr. Blaire.’
1 ijut you wear the blue veil, madam*'
‘You told me to wear it, sir.’
‘ I tolii yon to wear it? Why you in
humed me that you would wear it your
self, and desired me to wear a rose, as I
have done.’
‘You are mistaken, sir.’
‘ I tell you that you are the one who Is
mistaken.’
■ And you are not Mr. Blaire V’
‘ No, but y,ou roust be Mias Avery-’
‘ I tell you I am not.’
‘Ah! now I recognize your voice.
How could I be mistaken when hearing
tile squeaking voice of Bess Wiggins.’
‘ And how could I be mistaken when,
bearing the bear like growl of that de
teslable Dr Bose?’
• Madam, this is-a piece of impudence
which I will never lorgive. How dare
you write to.me?’
• How dared yon write to me ? I never
would have answered the letter if I had
supposed Mr. Blaire and' i'ou were the
same ?’
• How dared you address yourself to me
under a false , name ?'
‘I did hot address you under a false
name, but you addressed yourself to me
under a false name.l
Here a giggle,- which came from a
clump of .bushes'near at hand, startled
the two.
‘ Hu! wo are watched,’ exclaimed the
lector.
‘ Bay, ruth.er, tliat we are the victims
of a stupid joke,' said Mrs. Wiggins.
* Why someone must have been wri
ting to both of ns.’
‘Zounds, i believe that you are'right.—
They are even now,enjoying our discom
. liture.’ '
‘ A. P. Blairi:
• Ami I-shall not dare to show my face
in the village again.’
And Mrs. Wiggins began to cry.
Her tears seemed to efi'ect the doctor,
who said.
1 lira's, I have often thought that wo
were very foolish to quarrel on our we
ding night-’
I So have I, 0 she sobbed,
you who ran away.’
‘X know it, but I loved you, else
should nut have, followed you.'
>'[Vue, so you must. Strange the
thought never occurred to me before.—
Why didn’t you tell me.’
‘Me tell you! Why it would have
been very unladylike.’ •
1 So it would. Of what was I thinking,
X any, Bess.’ I am glad some one look
the business in baud lor us. Aren’t you ?’
• And now let us commence where we
-lofUdton_lhß_uighLwu-.quar.reled=:oiLlu.
Ollier words let us go hack to the village
and unite oV destinies as we once in
tended to do,’ <
1 But you will not get angry and run
nfT again if I chanco to wear a rose givnn
to.ino by another gentleman. Will you?'
“ No Besa, neither will you wear a rose
givbn to you by another gentleman.
TakeofV your blue veil and accept my
arm, and wo will walk back to the
village. 1
The dressmaker dill as alio was request
ed and the two walked away together.
The next morning there was a mar
riage in our village, and before night
ihe dressmaker's sign was down, ,or
rather replaced by another, whose neat,
gilded letters were so arranged that the
passerby read
TirE ceremony of tying the marriage
knot ia much simplified In Indiana, as
the following will show :
• What is your ua'me, sir?’
A New England paper announces
that a ‘Colchester, Vt„ former Ims rais
ed n potato weighing three and a half
pounds this season. Tho reader will
naturally wonder how much it Will
weigh next season. v
“ but it was
Mas. A. M. Eosb,
Dicssmakei
* Malty.. ' .
1 What Is your name, Miss? 1
‘Polly.’
• Matty, do you love Polly ?’
‘ No mistake.’
• Polly, do. you love Matty
• Well, I reckon.’
‘‘Well then.
•I pronounce you man and wife
All the days of your life.’
THE LOADED DICE.
It was in 1 the Fall of 1830 that the writer
of this sketch, while detained at Louis
ville awaiting the rise of the Ohio river,
to begin hia- journey to New Orleans,
first mad« the acquaintance of Mr. Har
ris, a wealthy young merchant of the
above named city, who had Keen spend
i¥g thTSummer in Cjuoiuuatl-wlfero he
had gone to settle - up some accounts of
He was now on ids way
home, carrying with him a large amount
of money which he collected for the
firm of which he was a junior member.
The season had been remarkably dry,
and in consequence the river was lower
than could be recollected by .the oldest
settlers ; but as the autumnal season ad
vanced, when-the semiannual rise of
water might be confidently -expected,
many travelers arrived at Louisville to
take advantage of. the earliest- boats for
the lower country.
After many disappointments the river
began tq swell in good earnest, and ail
hurried ph board of their respective
steamers to secure their passage homo., ,
Mr. Harris and I, after having selected
our spite-room, and seen to the safety of
our baggage, had leisure to look around
us aud make the acquaintance of our fel
low travelers. We fotlud to our intense
disgust, it had been our misfortune to
take passage with'-as large and accom
plished a set of gamblers as ever disgraced
decent society, .They were bound dotyu
tile river on a ‘professional tour’ through
the Southern States.
As soon as we were well under way,
tlie implements of their nefarious trade
were brought forth. ‘ Faro’ ‘rogue et
noir,’ and various pther games, were ex
hibited to tempt the unwary to risk
money. At first many of the gentlemen
on board objected to having the cabin
turned into a gambling hell ; but the
professionals loudly protested that they
played on the square, and furthermore
declared'should one of their number be
detected in cheating, the stakes should
be lorfeited, and bo put on shore at the
nearest land. After this no more was*
said, and the numerous games went on
.without interruption.
For some time Harris, who was known
to have a large amount of money in his
p< s session, and who was ths object of the
gambler’s especial regard, firmly declined
all invitationb a to try his luck. But one
evening after the supper table had been
cleaned, he, weary of their opportunities
or yielding as lie afterwards told me, to a
nalural.love for the excitement to play,
consented to,make one of a party of four
who were about to sit down to a game of
cards for small stakes, ‘just to pass away
the time.’
For a while my interest in the fortunes
of Harris induced me to remain at his
side and watch the chances of the game,
but as the sums staked were small, and
as the parties seemed evidently matched
in point of skill, I soon tired of such un
interesting employment, retired to a
distant part of the caldn to amuse myself .
with a book—iu the cohteuta of which I
almost immediately became absorbed. —
I read for an hour and a half; hut while
pausing to cut the leaves (the book was a
new one), I became conscious.that an
unusual stillness pervaded the room.—
There was no longer to be jreard the rat
tie of dice, the eharp clique of the.ivdry
‘faro nock’ or the subdued murmur of .
the players, raising my eyes to see what
could be the cause of the subdued still
ness, I saw that all the ‘banks’ had been (
deserted, and the' players were standing
motionless around the table at which I
had left Harris and iris companions en-
gaged iu euchre* . .
Wondering what could induce men (
who were accustomed to risk the largest
stakes on the turn of a card to lake such
an interest In so small a game, I threw
down my book, and approaching the
party, soon made way to the table. I
miw at once that a great change had
taken place since I lin'd been a looker on.
The stakes were largely increased and
(WO of the parly either tumble or too
timid to risk such largo amounts, had,
withdrawn from the tnhle. Harris and
one of the gamblers, 'however, still re
tained their seats and with eager faces
and shaking hands, shuffled the
cards. Fortune seemed to have-favored
Harris for just as I reached Hie spot he
marked the last point in-a closely con
tested game, while the professional, with
a deep oath dashed down the cards and
challenged him to give him his revenge
with dice, to which proposition,' after a
moment’s hesitation, Harris assented.
The dice and the cups were produced
and the,excited gamesters again belting
their money, hut no longer with- the
same result. Harris’ good luck seemed
to have deserted him, and ids antagonist
won stake after stake, r. Harris seemed
now wild with excitement. He doubled
overyHimeTiVutil-no-less—tlmn-ten-thou—|
sand dollars lay upon the table to be
won or lost at a single throw*’of-the dice
Again the gambler was successful. Har
ris now sprung from his chair, and call
ing on his,antagonist to remain where
he was, repaired to his stateroom, and,
returning in a few minutes, ho dashed
down upon the table a large rollof bank
notes, saying at the time to the gambler ;
‘ You have already won from me over
fifteen thousand dollars. The bank bills
represent double the amount; dare you
risk a like sum, and let the ownership of
the whole bo decided by a single cast?'
The gambler at once expressed his w'
lingness to do so, but/leelared that lie
had not 60 much money in his possession,
phe deficiency was, however, made up
by others of the fraternity, and they pre
pared to resupie the game. There'was a
| lin .a carving fork tying near Harris,
which «the wallet had neglected to re
move when he had cleared the. table that
evening, This Harris, with a careless
and apparently {as ho took his seal)
accidental movement of his arm, drew
close to his side.
All now drew near in eager expecta
tion. Harris seized the cup. and shaking
the dice violently lor a moment, dashed
litem down before him I could hartMy
suppress a cry of exultation when I saw
lie hail thrown double fives, within one
of the highest number It ,ta possible to
inuUe.
The professionals oast uneasy glances
nponeaoh oilier, but Harris’ antagonist
only smiled scornfully and drew the
Ivory cup towards him- Just, however
as ho was placing them in tho box, they
slipped through hla lingers and Ml on
the floor. Ho stooped and recoyered
them In an instant, but ns he rewhed
forth bis baud to take the cup, Harris,
whose eyes bad a fixed, determined look,
which had never for a moment been ofl
him, suddenly seized the fork, and with
a movement quick us that of the deadly
rattlesnake, stuck the sharp prongs
through ills wrists, literally pinning it
to tire table, at the same lime presenting
a cocked pistol full at his head, There
was a yeUTrofn the wouhdeil' mnn, apd
a volley of imprecations burst.from his
associates. A dozen weapons were
planted at the breast of Harris- He,
however, was equal to the occasion. Not.
a muscle ol the 'face moved, and his
voice woo not lolsed the least when ho
spoke.
.‘One moment, geullemdu, said he,
1 You yourselves have declared that,
should one.of your number ho detected
in foul play, the slakes should be forfeited
and be summarily punished. If the
dice under the hand I now hold impris
oned be not false, then do with me us
you will. If, however, I prove correct
in my assertion I demand the lultilmeut
of your threat.® .
By tills time every mole passenger had
co/lecled around the table, and the gam
blers saw by their looks, and Uiawu
weapons, that they were not to be trifled
with. Bo they were forced reluctantly to
admit the truth of what Harris had
said. ‘ .
’ The gambler was held .secured in his
el,air, and fork withdrawn, the dice ex
amined and found to be loaded-tbe truij
'pair were concealed in bis sleeve. Hi 3
fate was sealed in spite of bis desperate
resistance. Btrong arms stripped him of'
weapons, forced him' into a boat .and
rowed him to the nearest laud—a low
sand bank entirely surrounded by the
'river, and w hose rapidly rising waters
promised soon to submerge it. Upon
this Island, deaf to bis piteous appeals,
tbby forced him, and the steamer resum
ed her course down the river.
But long after we bad lost sight of
him in the darkness there came to usout
of the black night, wild cries, that soun
ded in out ears high above the dash of
the mighty .river.' Screams for mercy,
fearful imprecations, and chilling blast
pbemiea.
Harris hid his face in bis hands,
and wept like li child. Strong men
turned pale, and the very gamblers look
ed at each other with while cheeks and
taomlping lips. ■ •
Of his fate there can be no doubt. The
strongest swimmer could not for one
moment stem that fearful toncut, and
to remain upon the land was but to
clmose a lingering and. more fearful
death.
There was no more playing on board
is boat that trip, and at the first land
ig most of the passengers left her, flee
ig from it as from a place accursed.
Among those who left was Harris.
Years had passed when we met again,
but be trembled when he spoke of that
fearful night on the Ohio, and said he
had never touched a card since then.
FORGOT HIS RAMROD.
There is perhaps no man who has hun
ted much but that has.at somo time left
the ramrod of bis gun at home, and found
it out after getting several miles away
from home. There is a story told of Gen.
Kellogg, of Wisconsin. There was a lime
when he used a muzzle-loading gun,—
When begot the new one he loaded a lot
of shells, and early one morning he
shouldered his gun and walked up above
Onalaska. He was going to make a
whole day of it and have fun. Ho put
his dog into a field and soon got a covey
of .chickens. He killed two and marked
down the balance of the flock in a piece
of nieadow -the nicest place in tire world
for nice shooting. He Was excited and
perspired like a butcher. After picking
up'the two chickens he felt in his pocket
for his powder flask, when lo! it wiis
missing. His eyes stuck out so that you
could hang your hat on them, and lie
became more excited, when glancing at
the gun, lie missed the ramrod. This
was 100 much. He may have sworn.—
He thought of the thirty chickens in
the meadow, and decided in a moment.
Hastily calling hia dog oil, he started for
Onalaska, aud proceeded to a livery Ga
ble, tils face red with walking and sup
pressed emotion. He told the livery man
if he would take him to Ha Crosse arid
back in an hour and a half he would give
,1m a ten-dollar note. The livery man
hitched up in a moment, and then dust
was soon dying on the toad to La Crosse.
On the way the driver couldn’t get half
a dozen words out of Kellogg, and made
up his mind he must have escaped from
some asylum. However, they arrived in
a little leas than forty minutes, and
Stopped at Kellogg’s house. The general
rushed in, leaving the door wide open;
Ills hair was filled with dud, and
charged into the room where ho usually
kept lYJOljputingTools. Tlio lady of the
house was,somewhat alarmJd at his ac
tions, aud with much interest in hia
case, she said : '
’Why, General* what is the matter*?
What has happened?’
•Nothing, my dear.' says the General
between hla clinched teeth, as he pulled
down an old game bag, looking for the
lost ramrod. ‘Nothing, only I left the
ramrod of my gun at home, and there are
forty acres of chickens at Onalaska, wait
ing for me. Please help me find It.’
The lady began to laugh. The General
looked at her in astonishment. The idea
that levity should bo Indulged In at such
a trying monieut, was too much for him.
He was about to go down to the cellar to
see if the rod hadn’t fallen that way,
when the lady said: ‘Why, General,
with your new breech-loading, one hun
dred and seventy-five dollar gun, yoh
don’t need a ramrod; you loaded the
cartridges yesterday.’
The General fainted. It Just then oc
curred to him that he had supposed all
the time he had hla old gun along. The
re- gctlon was so great, that he concluded
not to return to Onalaska; sohe wont out
and gave the driver eleven dollars—the
extra dollar If he would never mention
the circumstance. Those chickens may
ho waiting for him in that field yet.
A clergyman wan once ehdeavorln
to get a subscription in aid of some char
liable institution out of a close-fisted par
ishioner, who attempted 10 excuse him
self on tile ground that be already owec
a great deal of money. ‘But,’ said the
minister, ‘you owe God a larger debt
than you do anyone else.' ‘That la so
parson, but then he alut pushing me,
like the balance of ray creditors.’
k.
A OEM FROM SAMUEL, 8. COX.
SVio Most IMtrrstina texture, of the Srfmm 7he
Marveh qf Fire —A nmrjlt/or the O<M Fcllmn of
tThou.-S. B. Cox lecture.! Id Ihe
large hall of Cooler Institute, recently,
under the auspices of American lodge,
272. Vice President Colfax also spoke.
The demonstration was for the benelit of
the suffering Odd Fellows pf_Chjcago.
Mr.'Cox said: , ,
Tlio modern chemist has declared that
there Is no such thing as fire; that it Is
only the combustion of two gases, winch
help make us our material universe.
However this may be, one thing is sure,
that the sun, the chief source of our light
and heat, is an incandescent pass of lire,
consuming and illuminating, and that
the universe would bean engine without
force If It lacked fire. The iron, magne
sia silver, and what not of the chemist s
terminology, which burn in waves of
Btupeudous, unreatinsr and inetluble bnl
liancy In out central orb, are closely akin
to the Hint spark by which the savage
lights his pipe, or which is struck from
the iipu shod hoof of the horse upon Ihe
stone. Ice itself Is In some degree but
the absence of fire. The eternal snows
of Mont Blanc and the enormous glaicers
of Greenland, us well as the volcano of
Versuvius or the geysers of California,,
are instinct with fire. The belt of Orion
and the comet of Encke, the ring of Sa
turn ami the futheat star “pinnacled dim
iu the Intense inane” of the inter stellar
spaces, are vital with that mysterious
force which cooks for Delmoutcoand con
sumed Chicago.- , ...
The slag, lava and trap of the volcano
buried Herculaneum by the same process
by which the cinders are heaped under
your grate. The power which has made
valleys and mounluitts, upheaved and
depressed our globe, is the same which
hurls the metcroio bomb through tiro
summer night and makes the tea keitie
boll for. Watt’s inventions and Biddy’s
delight. The “rosy fingers of Aurora,”
of which Homer so often sings, are ting
ed with this’ subtle tlame ; but it is
the same flame in another -form which
points the carnation, adds a hue to the
violet, gives color to the ruby, makes the
diamond shine oia.the breast of Matilda
Jane and paints her cheek with blushes
when John William Henry jingles
the door bell. It enables the photogra
pher to cast the exact features of the hu
man form, divine or ugly; and it enables
the scientist to determine by the spec
trum the color which indicates the pas
sing of iron into steel in the big .Besse
mer retort,.and the nature of the sub
stances iu tlie distant stars. By the aid
of the vapbr it creates from water, it
drives the steamer over oceans, tunnels,
mountains, mines for gold and silver
within the sunless chambers of tbo
earth, tires the mitrailleuse, and dives
for the relics of old wrecks and wonders
of the sea, ,
But things are as we use them. A
pound of beefsteak has enough prussic
acid in it to kill ten men, You may !
sweeten your tea with sugar drawn from
the bung of a vinegar barrel. Out of the,
black muck the rose of Persia and hlliea
ot Sharon grow, and Solomon has no ap
parel so lnw*oven witti hue and light.
\yhat a blessing, what h curse, is this
element, whose ravages in the Pra’rie
city we come here to-flight to mitigate.
‘What dr'Tis that train V’said Stephen
son, the invent or of tie locomotive.
‘Well, is it not one of your big engines ?’
‘Aye, but w|iat drives the engine ‘Oh,
very likely a canny Newcastle driver.’—
‘What do you say totlie lightof tire sun? 1
‘How ?’ asked the friend. ‘lt is nothing
else,’ said the engineer, ‘ft is light blot
ted np in the earth fur tens of thousands
of years—light absorbed by plants and
vegetables, being necessary for Hie con
demnation of carbon during Hie process
of their growth, and now alter being
buried in the earth for long ages, in
fields of coal,' that intent light is again .
brought fortti aud liberated by lire, 10
work as in that locomotive for great hu
man purposes.’
What a marvel lous recuperative power ,
there is in this American race of ours. L
was in tlie Sierra Nevada last summer, at
the town of Truokee, or to lie more par
ticular, while there a political meet lug
was hold at night; I will not mention of
what party. Suffice it 1 was on a plat
form, built over a big boulder Hint was'
half out of tbe ground. Tlie orator was
ill tlie act of sending up tire American
bird,-when tbe cry of ‘lire! 1 dissolved
tbe meeting and startled tbe town. As
it was tbe third time it had been burned
in a year, tlie population knew their
fate. At midnight I retreated to Bon
ner lake. But returning next evening,
I found some pitch-pine shanties .and
‘cauvas-baok’ bouses built amid the
ashes. Ou one there was a sigu out in
glaring letters; ‘lce Cream fur sale.’
Ro iu Chicago, there L a.similarspirit
of recuperation- It - is~ttrir loll'spTing~of
our American institutions, an elasticity
which sutlers no disaster to repress its
enterprise. It lights tbe chances of life,
aud the chances of time not only with
courage, hut with hoartlfleas. It is
culled"by an English journal the indif
ference, easiness, fluidity of being, pe
culiar to this country, which if it does,
not amount to heroism or stoicism, is
very-near akin, to it. To illustrate.—
When yellow fever was decimating
Now Orleans a waiter at the Stfjfeharles
hotel rushes to the ofilco aud exdlaims,
‘Collin for 21, gin cocktail for 2(i.’ Clerk:
‘Cocktail for 2li, cufiln can wait.’ Bo in
Chicago ; a merchant hastening to his
house mid homo meets a friend. ‘What
nows?’ ‘House burned; wife safe at
father's; babies all right.’ ‘All right,’
responds the American man, and he goes
to work rebuilding.
It is under this supremo law of tlie
American land-call it wbatjmu will—
lliat tbo future aud safer, it not better,
Chicago will rise. It will rise all tlie
more resplendent like tbe fabled city,
because of the music of tlie human bean
Which throbs with it .in sympathy. Like
Montreal, which grew greater out of her
great fire, like Now York 111 1835, like
( the Loudon oflbOU. it will rise mure sub
slanliai aud grander than ever .-Ann
I York aS un.
ig I
t) a i lE _An artist, showing his pie
tureß to a customer, received the fol
lowing short retort J ■■
‘Well I don't think much of this,’
hrddinf’uo tho pieturo before him.
‘Don’t tltink much of it I Why that s
n very rare print-very rare print, in
de‘ltare'' I’ve no doubt it is rare. It
certainly is not well done!’
Elates for j
APVKRTinnMKKTa wui nomuprtod at Ten Cnit**
lino for tbo.itrat msortton and Hvi* coni'-
ncr lino for each fmhacqneni insertion. Qviftt-
L-rlv. Half-yearly, an.l yearly artvarUaerponts la
cried at, n liberal reduction on the above rate. .
Advertisement* should ho aeeompanled - hv he
Cmii. wnon sent without ahy lonclh o. n
cpeclfled for publication, they will bo oonvmued
unttlorclcrod out and onnrgod accordingly
JOB priUting.
C.uins,UANDUll.ns.Ont«nnAns,and every ott
er description ot ton and nano "-tonne.
'• Ai'
The best ‘ Bus— kissing a pretty .girl
15r:.=T Re-hus— kissing her a second
time.
What is it you can fako without
hands? A. hint.
A TEnninr,B BUmdorbiisa-kisaipg
tlio \Vronpr gill-
A- ‘capita L letter’-
O. money order in it.
Ltchit is a inost successful burglar
it is always breaking in upon some
one.
A contradiction— the. best wav to
patch up a quarrel is’tosplit tho diller
ence.
Punch says the music of the future
will bp played, of course, by bands o f
hope..
Always pray for patience; every
day will bring something that will call
for its exercise.
Tin; world is likcia treadmill which
turns incessantly and leaves no choiee
but to sink or climb.
. a" man' with a scolding wifesays that
holms less fear of the jaws of death
than 1m has of the,jaws of life.
Some one with spare time on his
hands lias been Investigating a bushel
of wheat, and reports that it contain'
(100,000 grains.
‘Now, then, children,’said a parish
school mistress, showing her pupils off
on examination day; ‘Who loves all
men?' ‘You, missus,l was the unex
peeled reply.
Ax amorous swain , declares ho is so
fond of his girl that he has ruin ed the
akin from his nose by kissing her sha
dow on the wall. A. hopeless case that.
A woman in Wisconsin says that
when her husband is a little drunk he
kicks her, and when he is very drunk ,
she kicks him; (die adds that she does
.most of the kicking.
‘Mary, i am glad your heel lias got
well.’ ‘ Why,’ said Mary, opening
wide her largo blue eyes, with aston
ishment, ‘Oh, nothing, said John, on
ly I see it’s able to bo out.’
AN- unsophisticated parent in Ports,
mouth, N. H., is said to have observed
with pain that Jus first' borne had no'
teeth, and hastened to remedy the ‘de
formity’ by purchasing a §l5 set.
Whu.e a colored gentleman .was
swinging himself from a hook in an ice
house in Louisville, the hook .came mil.
and tpo darkey lauded in the cellar,
striking Ids head,bn a qliunck of ice,
breaking it in pieces. His employer
hurried down expecting to pud Sambo
dead; but there he sat, looking up at the
place he fell from. On seeing the gen
tlemau. the darkey exclaimed : ‘Fo’de
Lord, boss, I’se sorry 1 broke dat ice, Ids
ijortaiu.’ ...
A Hard Fight.—Once upon a time
says history, a Scotch pedestrian was
attacked by three thieves. He defend
ed himseli well; but was Overcome,
when ’(he thieves, much to their aston
ishment, found that ho owned only the
small sum of sixpence.
‘ The devil’s in the follow,’ said one,
‘To light thus for sixpence. Why, if
he’d a shilling, he’d ha’ killed us all!’
1 A countryman visited a Boston
Hotel and wrote after 1m name, 1 P. O.
P. S. F. C.’ Hero was a title which
none but himself understood.
■ ‘ Pray, my dear sir,’ asked the clerk,
1 what do all these letters stand for?’
‘Stand for! why, that’s my title.’.
‘ Yes, sir, hut what is your title ?’
‘ Why, sir, Professor of Psalmody
.and Schoolmaster from Connecticut.’
A, good story is told of a popular
railroad conductor recently chosen
deacon of a church in Altoona. A few
Sundays after his now appointment, it
became liis duty to assist in taking up
a collection. Ho surprised the congre
gation by starting, out with the char
acteristic. ejaculation, ‘Tickets, gentle
men !’ Tho contribution that day was
unusually large.
Om.iGiNCi TO His Grand Mother.- ■
A good old lady, whose eyesight hud,be
come very defective, requested her grand
eon to take up the county paper aud read
for her. Young hopeful assenting, took
up Ibe newspaper and read as follows;
‘Last night, yesterday morning, abnuV
one o’clock In the afternoon, before
breakfast, a hungry boy, about tony
years old, bought a big custard for a levy,
•aiut threw it through a brick wall ulur
k-et, iblck, and iumplng.ovt-r it, broke Ins
rb’bl imklo nlf above ids left knee, and
fed into a mill poud and was drowned.
-•ViroH t-forl y-y ears-idle r-llial.-OU-Uie-ciimc
day, an old cat bad nine turkey gobblers;
a high'.wind blew Yankee Doodle ou a
trying pan, and killed asow and two dead
pp’S at Boston, where a deaf and dumb
man was talking to his mint Peter.’
Whereupon the oM huly, taking a long
breath, exclaimed : ‘Du tell
QunuiiEV and Odd Euony.—Wo wore
sitting with Horace one afternoon in that
disreputable aauctura of bis adjoining the
counting-vomn of the Tribune. The old
gentleman was in one of bis chronic
conditions of grumble and discontent.—
Ho bad that mealy appearance, so com
mon to him, that made him resemble a
blond miller fresh from tho dust of his
IKnir mill, and was expressing bis pri
vate qpinion, in a public and somewhat
profane way, when a colored gentleman
was announced. ‘Let him come in,'
roared the philosopher, and an aged dark
ey, clad in broadcloth, gold-rimmed spec
tacles and a cane beaded with the same
precious metal, stalked in,
‘Mister Greeley. I believe!’ tie in-
mil red ...
I Yhh, I'm Mr. Greeley; what do yon
want was the gruff response.
■Well, sail,' said old Ebony Specs, seat
in" himself as he deposited his hat aud
Cimo mi the lloor- 1 Well, sah. I’ve been
thinking that our race don't pay ouull
attention to soieutillc pursuits, sab.'
We saw the cloud gather on the Intel
lectual countenance of the Journalistic
Bohemian. broke in thunder at that
poinl. Iu a voice wherein wsa blended
the sin id tones of u hysterical woman
and the growl of a tiger, ho exclaimed:
‘Scientific pursuits '. You dimmed old
fool; you want a hoe handle and a patch
of New Jersey—that’s the tcleuliflo pur
suit you want. • Get ont.’
'—one with n P.