s|)( American Volunteer. pnuUSHBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING •, by ' • ORATTON jdt KKNPifjEDY• orricE~«ot:TH marhkt sqijabe. ■ rtWi-Two Dollars per year if paid atrioUj '« advance; +wo Dollars and fifty Cents If paid fuhln thre# moiltltfs after which Three Dollars *1! be charged. These lento will be rigidly ad !r«d to in every instance. . No snbsorlpUon dfe* cflntmu*d tintll all arrearages are .aald, anlesi- a t b# nptldti bftrifc Editors: r i fottial. THEWHIP-PO-WIU BY PBOF. C. W. BOWBK. One raoon-llght.eve, when all was still, I musing sat Mslde a rill,. • '.( Thul murro nrlng, leaped its rooky bed As if with ooeWu wave to we<k Above roe,penciled on the sky, A craggy green oak met my eye, While all around the soft shade fell ■' On sparkling xUI and grassy dolh While musing thus a whlp..po-wll, In whistling accents lodd and shrill, Announced Its presence In the tree. And rodried jne from my reverie. Why sldgest tbon this cruel strain ? What’s Wt)lie done? 1 asked In vain; Till by iny side; in scaly zones! Colled np, ainaake; In hissing tones. Replied: the Reason shall I tell,-. While you lie here in grassy dell 7 With wonder In my bosom pent, Forthwith X nodded my assent. Many a one has gone to rest, Since Willie came to woo; A dark-eyed maiden of the West, Enoln fair and true.’ Like on nrrow snot from a well Strang how. So straight and fleet was sho, Aa timid aa the startled too j r Hot form ali aymqtry. Within ail arbored, vine-crept bower, Where straggling moon-beams ’peered, They raotand lovcd'thd self-same hour, No feat or doubt appeared. Blit one there was within whoso heart, If heart such^Villain hod, • - The a Green-eyed Monster” piled hla art, He spied the maid and lad. Not life’s tigress, thatjdeleuda Her young from hunter hold, Nor yetthn onb-robbed hear, that ends In doith’s hng young and old; More libe a gaunt,and sneaking wolf, The Jackal of the prairie; • Or else, the vulture of the gulf, Bwlft flying Irom his eyrie; ■( Thus sprang he In with knotty rod,. Where Cupid reigned supreme, A r d amble poor Willie to the sod, Out short bis life and dream I Enolacfled "why whippoorwill? Thou flend In hitman shape I I*ll curse the with a crooked bill. Thy food the sour grape; May Bleep ne’er be tby lot by night. • But perched upon a tree. Thou’ltory whlp-po-wil till the light Of mom shall banger thee f* . " EnoW ceaae thy threatenlngs vain I” Burst from her flendish foe, "I'llsend thee wlth thy lover slain, • Unless; thoo’lt with me go.*! Then suddenly her arm, Unconscious, of her power, Which,in a moment, changed bis form, And-drove him from her bower. . •Tls said, o’er Willie’s grave la heard <Enola*s grave beside.) The whlp-pO’Wll, sad-omened bird! At every even-tide. ■ Thus hissed the snake, when whlp-po-wll ShrleßK d forth a cry more doleful still; Thought I,,the aerpenliied to Eve,.. He’s lied too oft; can J bel leve ? IpOTIkItCDH!!. THE JAR OF SOAP. liy doctor advised horße'exeroiae; and as I hove the greatest respect for medi cal opinions which coincide with my own 'tastes, I entered a livery stable the morning after my arrival at the watering place to which he had likewise recom mended me. The sprucest of proprietors came forward to receive my order—a oiean-sh’aved man, -, with mutton-chop whiskers, a stiff shirt collar, a blue stock studded with spots and fastened by a horse-slide pin, a glossy cutaway, coat, brass buttoned, massive watch guard. trousers ; fltling like drawers, clean dog skin gloves—well to do and horsey all over. 'Take yourchoice, sir,’ be said, leading the way to the stables. ‘Wo have sever al in. Now, If you like an animal that you can feel with the bit, I recommend' this grey. Oh, ha’s a willing one, he is —does not want the whip, he don,t.’ •I suppose you mean that be has’a mouth of iron, and a jaw like a vice, and will pull my arms out of their sockets.— No, thank you.’ ‘Well, there’s the chestnut mare--she is a teal clever'one; Touch her with' hour right heel, and she will go sideways all along the cliff.’ •Much obliged,’ said I; but it is a horse I Want, not a crab.’ ■ ‘Exactly, sir; but, you see, there are gents who like a horse which will do that —lt makes the nursery girls and such like stand and stare, and think what fine riders they are. This bay will.suit yon host, I see. When shall I send him round?’ ' At two o’clock, to 12 Ocean Terrace,’ 'He shall be there. Much obllgedto you for your custom, ! Mr. Penyolin.’ ‘Hal’ cried I stopping and looking in his face when he mentioned my name.— 'Why, surely, it is not Joe?’ ' Yes, sir,, the very same;, formerly groom in Graves’ livery stables, at Cam brldge. I nope I see you well, sir.’ iThank_yon._l._am glad .to seo_._you. have risen in the world since the old days. Have you been here long ?’ 'About five years, slri And very nice ly! am doing.’ 'Some one* jeft you i a little capital, I presume.’ ■ 'No, sir; jnst.tbe contrary. I owe my rise In life td being robbed of ail I peaces ed.’ ‘Hal* crledl,"smelling a magazine ar ticle, ‘that sounds curious—how was it?’ •Weil, sir, It is a long story, and I have' some business to attend to Just now-’ Howeverj I got Mr. Joseph Snaffle, to my lodging next evening, and heard the following ■ Six years ago, come Michaelmas tide, Ur, Graves died, and his establishment ’was sold jwhereby. I found myself for the momentj without a‘piaoe. So, .as Ihad a cousin .1 in I Sill i Man ’s .twining at Newmarket 1 , with wlioral tfcffaltfays been on the . beat of terms, I thought I would look,him, up and see if lie could get me suited; for (heyhave plenty'to do in those- large raplng 'atables, and there are constant vacancies. .The worst of It' was I could not pull myself down to ride less than ten .stone; but still there woa no barm In trying whether they would take mo Ihisomaoapaclty, or recommend me, perhaps'do some‘Ol the gentlemen Who had horses there,. Bo I.ehouti'n ed my handle;- and started off along the Kewmarkstt road,f. with two sovereigns and Of teen shillings In silver in my breeohestppßketv andi not another rap in the world,.,.Vj At I west' through Barnwell,« sun- Ihe Amertffln Do I trotter BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. Joined mb who said he was going to N-wmarket' too,; aj'.d proposed that We mild walk together; and; pa I was always of d sociable, turn, I made no oh- jeotlon. He proved'to be an agreeable companion enough ‘-knew the good and bad points of a horse, and seemed to bo a sensiblesort of a fellow, at the very fir St. And aftei* a bit, when he grew more fa* miliar, be said he was a (out; and told me many, stories of I tbe tricks be bad been up to to get information. Of course, then, it was only natural .that I should Oder him half a' pinfof beer wh<-n we came tea public bouse on the road. He accepted it, and we went Jn. One hair pint'drew another, and that a third, as beer will'sometimes, whe.n it is good; not that I am fond of drink as a rule— ask the misses—but there are times whet* a mnn is not quite himself; and leaving a place where I bad been d goodlsb num her of years, to find myqolf etid(ienlyal’ uncertain what to do next; together with being my own master and not having any work to - attend to, all gave a sort of ■•ur-for-a-liollday feeling, and I did nnt care if X had a spree for otioe; So when we left that public house, l ilust«red and that was the truth of it. Now, the worst taking a drop too much, and what prin cipally makes me dread It, Is that one wants to go on and have more still; and when we bad walked some four or, five miles further, that thirst came on stroijg. ‘lsn’t there another househear’here?* I asked. ' . .. „ .’ , , . ‘Come to mine,’Replied my companion. ‘I have got a qoietllttie public of iny own a little way off to.the right, not.mucli further on; and lebould have to leave you when we came to the turning.. JBui whypot sleep‘at my place? It will be dark before you get Into Newmarket.— I’ll warrant you will bejust as comforta ble as In any house in the town. Fllgive you the best of liquor and u good bed, ami you can walk into Newmarket, which is not aboye four miles over the Heath, the first thing in the morning.’ We muethave been hours ip that way side ino, for what he said about plghl coming.on was to do as be said; and in stead of parting at the crossroads,' I turn ed up with him, and half an, hour's walk brought us to his bouse. It <1 id not seem much of a place) and the situation was very lonely. ‘Yon don’t do a thundering business, mate, T'expect?' sajd I. ‘No,’ Ue replied, ‘ami Idon’t want to. f have my regular customers, and go in for snugness.’ ‘Oh; I see, horse watchers and that.’ ‘That’s it; and I have had a fighting man in training here before now—twig?’ * ‘Aye, you are not over-anxious to at tract the notice of the police, eh?’ •That’s about It.’ he replied. , The! only person in the grotlml-floor room of the collage, for. It was nothing more, was a slattern, who at once drew us a pot of beer; but, after a tilt, steps were heard on the rick el ty et droase, and then a couple of men, who were yawning and stretching, made their appearance, ft was not' a taking one in either, case; but I did not think much of that at.flrst, for : : ho man" looks his best when he has been sleeping with his clothes, on, and rouses out with never a touch of dan p towel or oorab. However, when another Oime In at the door, with short cropped hair, broken nose, bull-terrier -jaw, but without that good-tempered look which a pugilist often has, I began to suspect that I,; hod got, into bad comp my; lor the b.eer Ihad drank did not prevent my notieitig snd reflecting, though it mode my head heavy and my throat husky.— If I had been a gentleman, with a gold: watch and a pocket lull of money, I should probably have taken alarm, ma<'e some excuse to go-.outside, and given them the slip; but as it was not likely that they would harm a poor stableman out of employment, I did not ranch mind heln In their society one evening, what ever they wight be, and joiged the gen eral talk In a friendly, unsuspecting manner. The slattern fried some eggs and bacon, and we all had supper together ; after which the landlord brought a stone jar ■of gin out of a cupboard—for I expect he had no special license; and when I had: puts glass or two of grog on the top of the beer, I forgot the bad Impression ray companions had at first made'upon me, arid vdted the landlord—who sangisongs as well as he told stories—one of,the beat fellows alive. • . , A fter awhile a discussion arose—l have, no notion what about In the first Instance, lint somehow or another I - fancied that my ability to pay for the liquor was call ed into question ; and to prove it I show ed iqy two sovereigns and silver; direct ly alter which I remembered ray suspi cions, and called myself ,a’ fool—not out loud of course, but inwardly. 'Now,' said I tomyself, if they are the men'! take them for, they will propose, some game presently ; for they will not be easy till they have pouched the two bits of gold I was ass enough to show them.l ~ . Weil, sure enough, after a little talk about something quite different, one of, them pulled out a pack of cards, and pro posed; that we should play. But'l was not to bo caught that way. Affected pretty considerably as I was by the liquor I had swallowed, Ipretended to he still more so, and swore: thickly that t was too early to begin to play Cards—we must have another aong; and. so began singing myself at the top of my voice.— After which I fell forward on the ,table, .With my face on my arms; and .when they roused me up I declared 1 felt ill, and would, go .to ; bed. I stuck to. that resolution, say what they might ;: got a candle end from, the slattern nniTwenl up.,stairs, stumbling a good deal more than I need have done. 1 .Uy bed room had not n'temptlnglnok to-any one who was squeamish, being l neither clean nor tidy and, tho lrunkle lied had notj been 'made nines some one had laid down upon It, so that; the patoh .work counterpane was all tumbled and errand- However, I* was not sober enough to be partiou'ar. The walls of ,the room seemed spinning around in a most uncomfortable manner, and half a dozen water mills appeared to be at worn inside my bead ; so I undressed, turned iu as fast os I could, presently went offsqund. How long I slept I do not know, nor yet why I woke up as I did—with a splitting headache, Indeed., hut quite oo ber. At Bret X did not know where I , WM; hut gradually the events of the day dime back to my memory, and I wonder ed how l could have made such a foul of myself os to get drinking with a set of vagabonds t knew nothing of except from their ownjShoyvlng, and;,that did ■ not lnalie tbem out very respectable.’ I listened to" hear .'whether they: were still keeping it up; but ail .was quite still, and' then t prepared,tq turn-out, for it was so light d’ qbjebtaj jin;,the. {room omiltl ibe 'easily' ‘distinguished’. But it proveil to be moonlight, and not’day breakj So, after taking a (; pull at the toy mouth and throat were like a limo-klln-I got into bed again; and settled myself .for another nap. ] 1 Just as I was dropping off, however, ! heard .the doorifnovo ; and opening my eves, saw the figure of a man come heal thily Into the room, i The tbonght .im mediately occurred to roe that he was af. ter those two sovereigns I had soatilph ly displayed; and that, if I Jumped up and asked what.be wanted, I might very likely get the worst of it. So I lay quite still, watching him ont'of the corner of one eye, anil when he stopped to listen, I snored. That reassured him, and h crept op to the bed, took my trousers which |n'y on the.foot of it,and felt in. the packets, I beard my poor two bits of gold chink as be took them out, and nearly groaned. ‘Nevermind,’ said I to myself, I’ll have the police dowu uoon this house 10-morrdw, as sure as eggs is eggs; sp you may make bflTtinietly now my man. To my surprise, however, instead of coing out at once, now he bad got what be wanted, the owner of the house- for I had recognized him—went toward the wasbstand and put his hand up to a small white Jar which siood 'on a shelf Just above it. . Then he stole softly out of the room, and closed the door behind him. I lay quiet for a matter of b&lf an hom nr more; and then searched my trousers. The sovereigns were gone, sure enough ; .but the silver was left;•■•There was not much, indeed, for I.had paid my score over night, and had \ stood treat af the, wayside public bouse besides. Next I went to have a . look at the jar on the shelf, anti found that it was full of sofi snap. Hvidentiy, my host was not So boldna mgue as I-had thought for; and if Iliad shown myselftobeawakebewould probably have made an excuse, and lei me go off with my money, since he' was ,so careful to-'provide against my suspi cions- For 1 suppose his idea was- this : If I took-the matter pretty easy, con ■enf to believe Hint I had lost ray money somehow, and that he knew, untiling of it, well and gor>jj. If t made more fuss he would invite me to have a search, ai d ijflefy me to find any gold in the house— fi r be bud ..owned to being very low in the pocket just then; but if I proved out rageous, and threatened the law, 1 he >would have conveniently discovered the sovereigns in the Jar of soft soap, and de olured I' musthave put them there for security over night, and had been too drunk to remember anything about it in the morning. l . Thaf was the way - I Interpreted the matter. So I, determined just to take my money back, walk off, and say noth ing about'lt;. not being particularly anx ious to have to stand in a witness-box; and own that I bad been in suoff bad company—for that would not have help ed me to a great situation, would it? It was now fast getting broad day, so I washed arid dressed myself, and before I had done,! heard people stirring in the h’nuse.l Then I took the jar and tried to fish my sovereigns out, but they were stuck far down in (he nnsty stuff, and as steps came towards my door before I bad got them, I wrapped the whole thing up in myih'aunkerohief, and stuck It iu my pocket. Then I went down stairs, bade the slattern, who was the orily person I saw, good morning, and left the house ; and precious glad I was to get away from if ‘ ' ' ' After walking about three miles as hard as I could put foot to the ground, I came to the place for turniqg off the bye road I was in on the Heath, and close by there was a bit of a pond, which, it occurred to me, was haudy for cleans ing my sovereigns. So I out with the little iar, and squatting down ,at the edge of the water, I proceeded carefully to wash, it. I got hold of one sovereign quickly enough, and put it in myipooket ; but the second had been pushed deeper down, and while flailing about with my Huger, X came upon some other hard substance, which prov ed when extracted land washed, to be a diamond ring, and. a rare, large, spark ling diamontt .it was too. After that I need not tell yoq that I seardhed the jar thoroughly, rubbing every bit if the stuff In it carefuly between ray hands; and, besides my other sovereign. I found a pretty, bright-colored stone, which I learned afterwards, was a valuable sap phire, and that was ail. Then I went on, add before I had got far I met a string of horses out for exe • oise, and accompanying them on a pony -was-my-cousiiirWho-expreßScd-himself glad to see me, and asked me to go home and have a bit of breakfast with him; which I did, and during the meal X told him what I wanted, and be said that he feared I could not be employed in their stables just thehi but chat .he would make inquiries, and do his best for me. After that I informed bind of what had hap pened the night before, and showed him ihe jewels. ■By the Lord, Harry I', cried he, quite excited. ‘I should not wonder if this was part of the great Bedford robbery I’ •What is that?’ I asked, ‘Have you, not seen it in the papers < he replied, ‘Lord Glitterbrlght’s house was broken .into last month, and her ladyship's jewel-box stolen. We will go and ahow these things to the Inspector, who is a friend of mine, presently, for il Tain right, it may beagood job for you, Joe.. Look here ![ • And be...fetched a newspaper, and showed mean advertisement of alius d e l .pounds reward for any person giv ing such information as should lead to - tile apprehension of, the th eves. : ‘lt lias nothing to do wth my ring,' said I, ‘I have no such luck.’ •Most likely you are right,’ replied my cousin; ‘but there’s no harm in trying,’ Bo I went to the Inspector, who bad a printed detail of all the articles atoieh, and the rlngaeeraed to answer to one ol them. Bo 1 went that very afternoon in company with.' a detective to Bedford, and saw Lady Glltlerbrlght, who Identi fied both the ring and tbs loose sapphire CARLISLE, PA., THDRSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1872; which it seemed'had formed part of the ■necklace. Then, certainly, my bean gave a Jump; but it was a good step yet to finding out who actually did the bur glary,: and touching the reward. My keeper of the pot-house, was taken uu and bis premises.searched, but nothing more .was found. However,*’When 'he. .was, like la bo tried for the burglary himself, be put the police On the track of the men who refill,done;lt,{in ;.sel f defenqe, for It; turned put that bis part bad been confined to concealing the real culprits and providing them-’with 1 . dis guises, and for that ho.had received; the ' rlngand sapphire, which hob ad concealed Ip that soft soap, as the least likely .place to be examined in ease of a search. Fbom his information the burg'ara were tracked and caught, and the most valuable Jewels all recovered. ■ ‘Well,’ as the police seemed to do everything, the newspapers gave, them all the credit, I fearqd .that I ahoiild.be overlooked altogether. But, no; I got the full hundred pounds, end a present from my lady besides—which, 1 most say, wan handsome. And when I got. this large sum of money—as it waa to me then—l began to think that, Instead of remain ing man all my life, I should like to be master, and as I was well qualified to manage a livery stable- I having done everything for old Graves during the lust years of his life—l looked about for au opening, and. through a friend of my cousin’s, heard of this place. Of course, I could not start In business to do any good with a hundred pounds; but a sport ing lawyer in , Cambridge, who had known mo mftiy.years, and believed In my success, lent me what was needful at a friendly five per cent Well, eir, I was pretty lucky—l may, soy very lucky —for I began in:a small way, and at the end of a couple of years I was So well es tablished that a farmer gave me his daughter, nod five hundred pounds down with her, and allowed the money to be put Into the business, too. .1 paid off the last of the loan to the - lawyer six months ago, and at the present moment I don’t owe any man a penny—of course barring the current account with my corn merchant. MAB'S MEW YEAR'S RUSE. BY HARRIET N. HATHAWAYi ‘Mab, cousin Mab, in . the name of wonder, what are you doing In that hor rid poke bonnet ?’ Mab Darrell turned towards her oous-, in, Nelly Worth, with a demure smile upon her pleasant, girlish face, and said, as she tied the ‘poke’ under her plump little chin : ‘l’m going to study human nature in lisgulse ; and I could-not find a better line than this evening: before the New Year.’ 'But you must not go alone, and then in this strange rig ; I never saw such a creature—so full of freaks '.’ ‘That I’m full of freaks I don’t deny, Nelly,’ replied Mab, as she shook out the folds 1 of a rusty black woolen shawl, and threw It about her, adding, ‘as to being afraid'to go out alone, don’t you see this rig 1 will save me ns readily from being molested, as would a half dozen picked policemen.’ ' ‘But supposing you should meet any our friends- —what would they think? 1 - ‘Don’t fret your little head, darling, but tie on this long, black veil; there, now, in this draggling dress and shawl, and this black poke bonne* and rusty mourning veil, who’ll ever euess it's Mab Darrell?’ You wouldn’t know me your self, were you to meet me on Washing; ton street in broad daylight, Nell, dear.’ ‘That’s true—oh. dear, what a creature you are I your hair plastered down to your face, and that droll bob banging from under the cape of your old poke ! I 'a well mo’her didn’t come In find and you so ; she’d have put a' stop to your wild freak-’ ‘Likely ;"but please say nothing about it to-morrow, when it’s oyer, I’ll tell her ail about it But I rausn’t stay to talk.’ And. then Mab Darrell danced across the chamber and Into the bail, followed by her cousin Nell, turning to say, as she paused on the lower door step : ‘Here goes the widow bewitch ed I’ ‘Widow“bpwltohed,’ sure enough, Nell repeated to herself, ‘and yet, there’s usually, as papa says, a method in her madness, so I presume there is now.— Her wise little head haS some plan in it, and—oh, well, there Is nothing but. for me to be patient until her return ; .then I shall have the whole in a nut shell, as brother ■ somebody tells for; so I’ll run up stairs aud get my dress ready for to morrow. I shall want to look'nicd, for we shall have hosts of New Year's call ers.' Aud so Nelly closed the street door aud went up to her chamber. Mab was no sooner at a~Bafe distance from the house than she assumed a.llmp ing gate, like one with hip disease, which she kept up until it brought her upon-Washlngton_street. Mixlng_wlth_ the eager, hurrying crowd, she soon, found herself rudely jostled hither and thither, and, when she chanced to be re tarded in her onward way by her seem ing'lnfirmity, she heard the epithets of ‘nuisance’ and ‘slow-cogch/ and many others of less pleasing character applied to her j but she only smiled to herself, say ing: ‘Ah, it makes qulteadlfference wheth er It is the heiress, Mab Darrell, ’ in her velvet and ermine, or a poor woman In a rusty shawl aud gown, and an old poke j)onnet I’ , So she went on her way as far down as Summer street, and then retraced her atepa back and forth, with a spirit of perseverenoo worthy of the object In her mind.. But she had another object than this—an especial mission of her own.'— Under her shawl-sbe carried a well-filled purse,,and, at a sight of the children who looked Into the shop windows where were the holiday tova and books, with. longing looks, she would make detours from the walk, and' thrust Into, their cold, naked hands a generous aruopnt of scrip, bidding them run in and buysorae thiug for themselves, and a little New Year’s gift for their brothers and sisters at homo; then, without waiting- for thanks, Mab Darrell would lose herself in the bustling throng, literally obeying the injunction : ‘Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand dieth.’ , ■‘Please let me look in Just for a min ute? ills so pretty !’-cried a child's voice. And Mab tutjaed to see a little' girl of about ten years, thinly clad,, thii importuning a poiioem in. ■ ’ •Can’t do It, my little Miss, It block, the way ;so move on,’ answered,the po liceman. Then, it seemed as though something in the look of the forlorn. Ill tie creature touohed'hii heart; perhaps ha thought of his own little bonne brooi), Warmly.boused and clothed, and of the, New Year’s <liuner, and tho New Year’s gifts awaitln; them,:wo oatmot tell ; .hat, whatever-It w'as, he slipped a twen ly-flve cent•' scrip ’ into, this ;|UUe { girl’t band, and went on his beat with .a soft ened expression upon hli weather beat en face. , , ■ ‘What do you want, nay litter girl?’. asked Mab, pressing through the crowd to the child’s Bide. ‘Were ly'ou,'wishing' tor that .pretty, tea-set for. yourself, or a crying baby fory’our little slater?’ : ■ ‘Oh,,no,’answered tbe little girl, drawn towards Mab by tbe tenderness in her voice ;‘I was only looking ;. we donfl have any New Year’s now since we’ve got so poor. Perhaps you’ll let me tell you, you speak so hind,’and now tbe child'pressed to Mab’s side and held hei place there in spite of the Jostling crowd. 'Yes, you may tell me. I’d like to heai what it Is X can help you, perhaps, my little girl.’ ‘Well, then, I will. I’m not going to tell you to get you to give me money, for I think you are poor yourself, but not so poor ,as us. Ob, since father died and mother got so sick that she can only sew just a little, we are very poor, and—and mother and sister Maggie are sitting at home to-hight without Are, for our coals are.all gone, and we've not much in tbe house to eat, and— and so I oameout to night thinking I’d ash some hind peo ple to give me Just a little; for you se mother thinks she’ll be better - soon, ami she does not want to go to the City and have her name, put down and all thai. you know ; but,l’m afraid we'll have to. for every time Igo to ask .there seems » big lump in my throat that don’t let me say a word.” “ Poor dear—poor little dear—” “ And I’m afraid they’ll ask my name, ahd where : we live, and think we’re beggars.” 11 Well, you’re not afraid' to tell me •your name?” and now Mab took the small, naked hand of tbe child tenderly in her own. , ‘Oh, no;, my name, is, Dorothy—they call me Dili.’ •Well, then, my Utile Dill, I’ll tell you what we’ll do ; I'll lead you. along npil ask aid for you, and nobody need know but jfi® are my little girl.,’ So Mab Darrell led the shivering litt'e Dorothy along, and, here and there she would Snect one and another in the crowd, that She knew by Intuition were good Samaritans , to these she told the fatherless gill’s story, hof did she’tell I' in vain, ns the package of scrip she held in her hand bore witness. At last, among the crowd she saw a gentleman, plainly belonging to the up per class, who proved to be one of her intimate friends and 'kdmirers. Ap’ preaching him she told Dorothy’s Story, as she would, had It been her own, se cure in her disguise. Vith a withering look of scorn he wrapped hlmeell more closely in bis winter garment, and nearly, spurning herself and little D..rolhy from his path, he pressed on with the woids : ‘Pah ! nuisances—public nuisances I The city authorities of Boston should see. to it.’ ‘Heaven, help you, sir! have you not read Chr let's words : ‘The. poor ye have always with you ?’ ‘What’s that?' he answered curtly, annoyed “that the woman and child Still pressed upon his steps. ‘Christ said, sir, on one occasion,’ ‘The poor ye have always with you,’ that Is that it was an understood thing that they were your care.’ The gentleman struck by aoraeppin liarily in the tone of the speaker, turned sharply and eyed her from head to foot she still going on with her. story ; but she was brought to a dead ftsp by : ‘Cant! humbug ! leave off dogging my s’eps In this way, you whining hypoorlt-- or I’ll give youin charge of the police !’ and then the angry man stalked on, while Mab, leading Dorothy, took the opposite direction. Mab no longer asked alms for tbeoblld. but taking her into several shops she loaded her with all the things her little arms could ; well carry, and was just about to dismiss her with a promise to go and see her mother, when herattentiou was arrested by a second gentleman of hei acquaintance. Atonceshe resolved to tell him her story, or the story that for he time being she had made her own ; and this she did in a few touching words. ‘My dear good woman, your’s is a hard case, and though I'm not. overstocked with this world's goods, I feel It a pleas ure to give my mite. I lost my own fa ther when I was but a boy, and I well know the struggles of the widow and the -fatherless.—Hero arc two dollars I only wish lO' uld make It more. Aud a hap py New Year to you both, and heaven care for you.’ , Then the young man, with a respect ful bow and a pleasant smllo passed on, and was lost to Mab’s and little Doro tby's sight in the abifting crowd ; but his Words had loft a sweet savor in their hearts never to pass away. And now, with words of -cheer, Mab parted from her little charge, standing to watoh her uptil- she had turned the opposite corner, thinking of her 'well fll’bd hands, and, better slHl, her well filled purse, and the happy heart- that, she carried la her .child bosom—tiear, fa therlesallttle Dorothy I When she passed from- her sight, she hurried, borne as, fast as her steps could ’carry her, for -it - was growing late. , ■ ‘There, I thought it was some auoh plan,’ answered ,her cousin Nell, after h iving heard her story In thp privacy ol tnelr chamber ‘And ob, wasn’t it odd chat you should meet two of your most devoted admirers ?’ ‘More than odd— Providential, Nell dear. And now we must talk no more or we shall be 100 sleepy New Year’s morning for anything ; and I shall want to be especially brilliant, for you know, among our New Year’s callers will be my two ‘most devoted,’ as you call them —Herbert Stacy and Ellery Lund, the poor artist, who supports a widowed mother and sister on bis small Income.— Thunk Clod, there's some great .souls in. the world, Nell! And now good-night.’ New Year’s came • I car, and bright md Mab Darrell's Dooie Worth’s parlors core filled with callers ; but as yet nol lier'Herbert Stacy, the reputed, million aire, or Ellery Lund, the poor artist, had male tlieii,appearance. It was getting ate aijd the re waa.'a cessation of callers i’lie tWo cousins Were,holding a little pleasant gossip over the ' events, .of the lay.’.ajhen Slab sprang to; her’ • feet with the exclamation: . ' 'There’s Herbert Stacy! Bun np stairs quickly; and bring the oldahawl andtbe .poke.nohnet!’■' 1 ’ ‘Mab, Mab,"whatever-’ —' ■ ' ‘bon’t 1 stay to. aafc,' but go quickly ; .take them into the oonsbrVatoryi and I will meet you there, Nell.’ . Nell hurried to obey: Mab’e bidding and .met her waiting in the conservatory, with Ifor beau iful hair plastered to her. face, and her neck disfigured.by the un sightly bob atthe back. ,1 ‘Noif put on my bonnot fqr mo ; never mind ;about the veil—and-throw the shawl jovor my shoulders; It compares ‘well-with my bine morte antique; darling doesn’t it dear V *Oh,iMab, dear, dent I’ •‘Don’t waste your breath, darling.—• Now X’ii take my.attitnde;’ and then she limped across the conservatory to the half louoge and half couch, and seated herself, adding : ‘go, and when Mr. Sta cy inquires for me show him in here.’ ‘Oh,' Mab, I’m afraid I’vA not the Courage.’ ‘But you must, darling, or you will spoil all. Go, that’s a dear Nell, go and bring him to me. ’ . ' Thus bidden, Nell went, and was met most graciously by Mr. Herbert Stacy, who tendered her, with bis complimen ts, a choice bouquet of-hot bouse flowers.—. After |a few of the compliments of the ■lay.wpre over, he asked for Miss Darrell, and was led,'according to request, by the anwiljing Nell to the conservatory. On fjrslenterlng.ln the dim light he hardly recognized,Mab iotbe lady sitting on the Jounge, so btatuesqua, like, with hands: lying so listlessly upon her lap, and eyes bent to the floor ; but on nearer approach.be saw that It . was none other, and boWing his stately bead be was tboutito offer iris New. Yeafls wishes, with the flowers Intended for her, when he stopped midway in his obelsanw, with the excla’matlon : . .IJupiter Ammon I okn this be Miss Darre(l !’ ~,Mah, without so much, as raising her a Huger, replied 1 : ‘Haveyou so soon forgotten’ the nui sance .of Washington street, and her poke bonnet .” ■ • The young man’s discomfiture can be betterldiagined than described. Suffice it to sky that their Intimate relations terminated here, and the-gay spend thrift,! who bad so pearly.run through liis princely fortune, saw bis hopes of making up bis losses In part by a mar riage with Mab Darrell, the wealthy, heiress, fall to the ground. But, In this cose, what was one’s loss. was another’s gain, for, In leas than six months, Ellery Lund, was the husband 01 Mab Darrell, and he often laughingly asserts that though, he did get a poke— he got a wife in a poke—bonnet. A TRAVELER'S STORY. ‘ls this seat engaged, sir?’ I glanced up from the paper I was reading and met the smiling regard of a genial-looking gentleman in the prime • f life. ■ ’ ' ■ ; ‘lt is not, air;’ • ‘With your permission, then,’as be seated himself beside me. - The train had already started, and presently the conductor made his appear ance collecting the tickets. Beaching us, be detached the appropriate coupons from pur tickets, handing back , the muinder with the usual ‘cheeks.’ ■Pardon me,’ said nay companion, ‘but I perceive you place your ticket In your wallet.’ ‘Yes.’ •It is unwise, unsafe.’ ‘Why do you consider it so ?’ I inquir ed, with curiosity, returning the wallet to my pocket, ‘Suppose through carelessness, or wo may say accident, your wallet Is lost — your .pocket, may be picked, for in-, stance.’ • ‘Yes/’ 1 , : ■, ‘Your money and your ticket are both gone.! Probably you do..not appreciate the manifold beauties of such a position, I do not thiok It possible except by 1 - ex perience.’ : . ‘lt would certainly be an undesirable situation. I can see that clearly enough. Pardon the question naturally suggested —were you evfer so placed ?’ ‘Once,- only once.’ . ‘How is that?’ . : •Yon wish to profit by my experience? Well, I don't know'that I mind telling you the story. It may serve to amuse you, if nothing more. 1 It ocourroda number of years ago and of no coriseuuence. I’had taken the early express train, and being somewhat tired and altogether sleepy, bad stretched my self upon a seat for as oomiortabie a nap as circumstances would permit,' I slept soundly, for I could in those days sleep well almost any where,and did not awake until the oonduotpr’ came for my ticket. The essential piece of pasteboard could pot be found. -1 was positive I had pur chased a ticket; indeed, I remembered, dlstlhctly having shown it tolho bag-, gage ciprk at the time of checking my trunk- i -The conductor grew impatient, passed to the other end of the car and returned to me. I bad made .the. .discovery that my pocket book bad been picked, and in proof of my story showed him my bag gage ofieok. i ■ , ’ It was useless. If you have traveled much you are aware that a vlrtqoua con ductor takes no man’s word.;: in, fact, all, men have.designs dividends except ■ himself. It was;per fectly natural; therefore, that the faith fil steward in question should aay f ■The check is all right; but- bow do I know that it belongs to you?lwilltakc the money for your fare, or stop the train and put you off, Just as you choose?’ Whatcould Ido? Protestations amount ed tq. nothing, and my fellow passen gers, with the usual tendency of human ity. tp trample upon afallen man, show ed clearly by their looks and expressions they,thought me a sneaking-rogue, who .would steal a passage if be could. They paid money, why should not I pay mine? VOL.SB.—NO-35. Few in on - would over sea heaven If .Judgment was rendered by. a Jury—ex uept themselves. , My laearch for the lost ticket had brougl t'to light about a dollar.and eighty cents. This. I. told the conductor .was every ient.l bad about, me. , He said It. .vasal cut Ufty oeuts short of. the fare to Laude dale city, but that he would pass . me tin ougb for It rather, than stop the train. From Lauderdale, a clty Of much Inlpor anoe, I could write to my partner for mo ney.' It would certainly be as well -as to framp teni or twelve' miles back to the oily‘l had left| and where I should be no letter off, belng equally'a'sirahger there. • "" In c ue time Hound myself at Lauder dale; ' rent to the best hotel { telegraphed for mo ley,and wrotean explanatory letter to my .partner. This business attended to, I si lied out to see what sort of a place Laude :dale city might, be. There \vss ‘nothing to do but amuse myaslf as best I could until the money should coihe; so I. determined to make the most on my vol untary holiday. As I strolled leisurely up the main street a newsboy'darted out of a paper office crying : ‘Dufa ■ Banner —extra edltloa°-alI about fbe murder—great accident bn the B—-road,’ eto„ etc.' (Save : an' extra ?’ I took the sheet, and thrust my baud in my pocket for the money without a moment’s thought. You may imagine my. feelings when compelled to! return that two-pepny bit of paper to the boy, with the muttering excuse that 1 bad no change, and the utter contemptuous ex pression on the boy’s face as he. received it! I.imniedlately stepped into'the of fice of the Daily Banner, and wrote a paragraph of .my recent mishap, taking care tq make.it os amusing'as possible.— When complete,' I banded it to the Clerk. He rcadit'luugbed.and took it into the 'private office. Coming back a few min - utes after, bo told the book-keeper to give me fifty cents. It was not much, but more than lexpeoted. ‘Weil; I contin ued my walk until I finally reached the end of'the street, whicnterminutes at the S-r-i- river, here spanned by a long covered bridge, I crossed the bridge, and was surprised 'to see : upon reaching the opposite side that I would be required to pay toil. A young girl, came up to the door.of, the little office, as,l stepped up and inquired: bow much I .should, pay, drawing forth my solitary sbinplaster.' ‘Ob,’said she, with a smile and asligbt . blush,' 'we do not charge ministers any thing.’ . It wps not a bad joke, but I suppressed the laugh; that rose to my lips, and thank ing her for the consideration shown to the clergy, I .turned about and retraced my steps to the hotel, not without slight twinges of conscience for allowing tne mlstake to pass and taking the advan tage of it.. . . My first duty next morning was to , seek some knight of the .razor. I had - noticed a pleasant little sbop.at no great . distance from the hotel in my walk the ' previous day. Thinking that I should do no better by looking further, I repair ed to'.that. There was in attendance a boy about twelve years of age, who stated that his father—the proprietor of the shop— bad gone to a neighboring city, and would not return-before noon. With out any hesitation I asked for the loan of a razor, and proceeded to operate on myself. While thus occupied, the cus tomers began to present themselves, ex pressing great.dissatisfaction on learning bow. matters stood. Now, although !am a proud man, I am not, thank God, cursed with that species of vanity which prevents a man’s.doing certain kinds of honest labor simply because they are not . genteel. Hero was, an opportunity af forded me to at least earn the price of my breakfast. I took advantage of it. . Told the first man who entered after I had . completed shaving myself I would shave, him, I did so. In tact, I did quite a brisk' business for a couple of hours, and if any of the unfortunate individuals who came under toy hand had any doubt of nfy fit ness for the business they certainly ex-' pressed none. At the expiration of this time I began to think I bad done suffi cient,! and feeling rather hungiy—hav ing no breakfast —I divided the proceeds with the boy; and prepared to return to my hotel. Bull was not,done. yet, .As I was brushing my hat a young dandi - fied specimen of humanity came in. Re solved that be should be the last, I went to work upon him. When he came, to pay me. Twos, to say the least, somewhat surprised to see him deliberately pro duce my pocket-book—the one I had lost. Standing on no ceremony, I snatched it from his bund and demanded lu pp gen tle tone bow it.came in his posselbiou. Without stopping to reply other than by a volley of imprecations, ua be reached the (100t 1 , be tumbled rather than ran down the stairs into the street. ..Waiting for neither hat nor coat, I followed—the pocket-book In my hand. We' measured off considerable ground in a short space of time. On,’on. It, was. an , exqitlng chase. Men, boya and dogs joined the pursult.’thffcrleanf^'atop'thlef’growlng louder and increasing. What an uproar there was. Suddenly came a . flash of light, sharp and vivid for an instant, then utter darkness.. A policeman, mis taking me for the tiilef, bad gently tap ped me upon the head, as thelrcustom is, and with the usual, result, the thief es caped, and I, the victim, was apprehend ed. My appearance told heavily against ine;.but my story being fully corrobora ted by the boy at the barber shop, I was released. Upon examining the wallet I found ray own money Intact, and-about one Hundred and thirty dollars besides. That la:all the story.’ . 'Not a bad speculation after all,’ said I as be couoluded. ■Well, perhaps so. No, It was not; but still my advice holds good. Never place a railway ticket In your wallet.’ Pork andßeans.— ;Pick put from a quart of white beaus all that are im perfect ; soak them In water oyer night, which will more than double the balk. Bollitwphours with plenty of water; at the same time boil about twoppnnds fat pork till done ; pour the beaus in a shallow, earthen pan; slice the skin of the pork and place It (flesh side down) In the centra of the - beans; then coat the pork and beans with best moli saes or syrup. Bake till brown. A sub stantial dinner for four to - six persons, ‘ and costing about fifty cents. uatCo for H&aertißlnQv ADvtßTißKXKzrra wm do inserted, at Ten Cents er line for nit* drat <n ■ • 1 u \ and nveccn s per lino for eootr snbMqnent Insertion. Qnnt* teriy, half-yearly; and yearly AdvertlMmeMt >n ertod at q liberal redaction on tbe above rai* p; Advertisement* should be aooonipenJed by tlio Cash. i Wnon sent without any length ol time specified forpobllcation. they will bo conunnefl until ordered out and onargod accordingly. JOB PRINTING. CAHi^ I HAimaiLiß ( CnionisAßa«|uideyeryotli or doscrlntion of Jon and Oabd 1 ©BHa anil (®uob- A; jSHAttP"'young fellow' says: ‘lf timefls money,’ ho If willing'to'change a little’6f his for casli, *" ‘ ' ■ '. ’ 1 .’ v i“:’ ;c i .t i W£y would,Cjtesar have made aflne novelist Because ho ,was ! Ro man—air, ~ 1-. Wpvdoea a butcher stick splinters of wdod into l his’meat? ■ To s’kower it for.^Wcustomere.(t!' v ■- < ... A Chicago teamster brojtd'a man’s skul| by careless driving,.but was er sknll-phted by the Jury* v; i,: Aif Irishman said ho did hot come to country for want. He had an abun dance of that at homo. ■ In! some portions of the south at tempts are being made 1 to revive-knee, breeches and shoo Duckies.. Prentice wanted Some one to invent ah ‘extractor’ that will take the‘stump’ out of Congressional speeches.'. A guest at a western hotel, finding a long, hair in the, butter, ordered the waiter to bring, hint some ‘bald-headed, butters’ . A man Is in no danger as long as he tSlka love, but when he writes it he is impaling himself on bis own pot-hooks most effectually. , . ... JAI 5 i 1 Houston, Texas*■ Whisky, is strongly recommended by the local papers as a means of suicide. T The latest .‘society .nows’ is that the mouth shouidiibe worn slightly .ajar this year. ,'Of:course thisfashipu is for the ladies. , ; PkKkips It is old* but it certainly Is a felicitous saying of’Josh Billings,'that •one’ single’ hornet wiiij feels well' will break up a whole camp-meeting.’ A littue girl, delighted at the sing ing'of a bobolink, earnestly,asked her mother,' ‘What makes him; sing so -weetly, ma?. Is it because he lives on flowers?’ The old bachelors out west, havlnga fear of the law in regard to apparent. breaches of promise, have concluded to have printed on their cards, “ good for ( this call only.” The young men at the watering places have discarded white vestaf. The young ladies use. so much mil in their hair that a .vest is only ,good : . for :one evening on the piazsa. ■ An ingenious baker accounts for the Ijiigh price of his loaves by saying that he han it On the authority Of an . emi nent’naturalist that tbo dough belongs to the dear tribe, ' ■ . a man being annoyed on one occa sion ■ by a tiddler, who persisted in playlng.in front of his house, sent him out a dollar, with the’ notice that one scraper was enough at the door. •A Sailor at the Brooklyn Navy Yard explained to a curious landsman the other day how prize money is di vided. ‘lt is sifted through a ladder,’ ho said. ‘what falls through goes to the officers—what sticks the sailors get.’ When a man is 1 unable to' tell the dme, by his watch,, because there are two hands, and he doesn’t know which to believe, it is-a tolerably sure sign that he has partaken of more refresh* ments than his nature requires. ' As a lady and gentleman were admi- ’ / ring a poplar tree, the latter gallantly remarked: ‘lf I add (a) toit, it'will , become popular.’ ‘Better add ’us, 1 she .' replied, and it will become populous.”- He took the hint and married her soon after. ’ ' 'Yon have considerablo'floating pop* ulationinthis,village, havener you,?’ asked a stranger of one of the citizens of a village on the Mississippi. ‘Well; yes, rather,’ was the reply‘about hiUf the year.the,water is up'to the; second stotjj window.’,' ‘CI.A.BA, I love but' thee alone’—thus • sighed the tender youth. ‘O.'hear me, then, my passion own with the tremb ling 1 lips and earnest tonc—Jndeed, X speak the truth.’..He.paused, the blush o’erspreaa her cheek ; she let him draw, her near ; scarce for emotion could she speak, yet did she ask, i n accents meek, ‘how much have you a week ‘ls this seat unoccupied ?’ asked an exquisite of an elderly lady,of rustic design in the cars at Norwalk, Saturday dvenlng. ‘I don’t know,’ said she has tily, running her hands with a great deal of feeling over the surface. ‘lt feels, mostly like plushy but you can’t alwaya-telk’ ~ ~ One evening, sitting in the village inn, John Berry said he once drove-a . horse seventy-two miles in one day on the ice, when the ice was so thin that the water spurted up through the holes cut through it by the. horse’s hoofs.— One 6f : the bystanders remarked that . seventy-two miles was a pretty goo.d ~ drive for one-day. ‘Yes,’ said Uncle .’. John, ‘but'itwasa long day in June,’. A newly-fledged doctor recently set tled in Havana,-111., and his first- 1 case wasa boy, who, while shelling pop corn, .got a kernel up his nose. The doctor examined the case, looked at the patient’s tongue, and then ordered a . fire to.be built. When that was done, the doctor told them to hold the boy over the Are 'until the kernel.got hot.—' enough to ‘pop.’ The old mad went, up stairs and ,got his . shot gun, but ■ while he was" loading It the doctor es caped. ' ~.. " A preacher, whose custom it was to Indulge in very long sermons; ex changed with one who preached,, short ones. At about the usual timo;fot dis-! missing, the audience began,, tq go, out, until nearly all had left, pox ton walked up. to the pulpit ; stuiis, and said to tho preacher In a whisper ; ,: - •When you have got throu." U look up, will you, and leave tho key'at my resi dence, next door to tho church.’
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers