The American Volunteer PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING •Xoliu B. Bratton OFFICE SOUTH MARKET SQUAItK Teums.—Two dollars per year If paid strictly In advance. Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if paid Tyltbln three mouths, after which Three Dollars will bo charged. These terras will bo rigidly adhered to In every Instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. miscellaneous. 'PWERYBODY TAKE Something New in Carlisle Again In which every person I* Interested more or less. An AQRIOUJjTUHAL IMPLEMENT and SfcED STORE. Just what has been wanted here for years bach. Not 91 South Hanover Street, known ns the "Blair Corner." at which place can bo found, at alt times, a full and complete assortment of rJMtinds of AGRICULTURAL HIPLEMEiVTS I and also n lull and complete assortment of FIELD, GARDEN AND FLOWER SEEDS I also a full ami complete assortment of WILLOW AND CEDAR WARE? all of which will be sold very low. Persons wishing anything in the above lino -will do well by calling and examining onr goods before bny lugolsownoie.as we feci sure wo can give us good satisfaction ns any oihor house in the place or elsewhere. Bo sure to give ns a call. Don't lorget ibo place, NO.IH UANGVEiI BTKEET; Blair's Corner. - U. G. CAKR, General agent lot the sale of all kinds of Agrf cultural Implements and Seeds. &c. JanBo*7d—tf rjK> BOOK CANVASSERS! ANX ir I VA Y of running A Subscription Book ! CAN SELL THOUSANDS! PLAIN HOME TALK ! Is plain talk about iho body and its physical hml social needs. Dr, IS. B. Foote, author of ••Medical Coipmon Sense,” of No. 12U Lexington Avenue, N. Y.. who entertains everybody with his pen, and cures everybody by -h»s skill, Is Us author. In Us thousand piiges It answers a thousand questions you don't want to go to your physician about* It la, as It is stamped upon Us cover, a book for private and consider ate reading.' Price $3 25, and sent, postage pre paid, every whore.- Content# table mailed lrce.‘ Agents wanted. A beautiful original chromo, “Tnrow Physic to the Doga,” worth SID, goes with the book. No chromo without the book. No book without the chromo. Address. MUR RAY HILL PUBL.SIIING COMPANY, No. 129 East 23th Street. Now York. - 20mur73-Ul* ARRIVAL OF SPRING GOODS ! The best assorted stock In Cumberland Valley. ALL KINDS UP LADIES’, CHILDREN’S and MEN’S WEAR. ump for the least money At* entlon Is ecpeclally luvltod to Uatohley’s Talent Improved iraoUet aud new Drop Check r alve, which can be withdrawn rlthout removing the Pump or Isturblngthe joints. Also, the topper Chamber which neve iraclta or scales, aud will outlast my olbo r . r'or'sale by KhJue* imlth «t xtupp, Carlisle. Hend for CainloiiUe and price list. CIIAS. G. bLATCIILLY. jSUT 500 .Commerce St,, Phlja’ Bopt, 12—1 gEEDS.PIants, Trees—prepaid by mail Afy now descriptive Catalogue of Choice Flow er and Garden Beetle,2ssorts of either for Si; new and.cbolco varieties of Frultaud ornamen tal Trees, Shrubs, Evergreens. Hoses. Grapes, Lilies, smart Fruits, House and Harder Plants and bulbs; one year grafted Fruit 'trees for mailing; Fruit Slocks of all kinds; Hedge Plants, oro; Of tho troubles of this world, We know ho had his share, But Moore was always happy 1 , Building castles In the air, K o sang tho rights of Ireland, He sang against her wrong-. And many a patient heart Still cherishes his songs; He bade tho Irish heart rejoice. And never more despair, And lor Ireland In tho future ‘lf the reasons are convincing enough, yes.’ ‘Would two hundred dollars convince , you ?’ To Scotchmen doavcr still, I {--o- , Ami through each true Scottish heart | • L ’°* Built prlght castles in the air ! And yet therods another name, ’Twill make the blood to thrill ills nnmo was Hubert Burns; Yet he, too, had his care - When but a simple shepherd, Building castles in the air I His home, a lowly ploughman’s col, Whore strife was never seen; For happv and contented lived Kobert with his Jean; Down by the banks o’ bonny Boon, Near the town o’ Ayr, . Nature's poet, Hobby Burns, Built castles in the air. And yet there is another Name Americans adore, A statesman In the time of peace, A lion when in war; With the storm on Bunker HIU, Or on the Delaware,. His genius made his soldiers Build bright cattles in the . ir. And, in Ills country’s darkest hour, Ho bravely led the van. And strove to make America The best of any laud ; Tho’ ho was not a poet bom— He planned with skill and care, Tho immortal Washington Built castles in the air. Iprfancows. cooing- in vain, ‘I don’t see why it would bo wrong Cor me to know what is in that will.’ , Tho speaker was a bright handsome girl of seventeen—Rena Crocker—the granddaughter of rich old Stephen Crocker, whoso death a few days before had brought sorrow to few hearts.— Two grandchildren—Horace Wnrton and Rena—were his only relatives’, and constituted his faifllly. Horace was as mean of act and disposition as the old man himself. Rena was a beauty, and an amiable girl, when she chose. There certainly were intervals when pride and disdain were her more marked characteristics, hut Rena’s eyes were her grand irresistibility. Talk of dia monds!—the flash and piny of those wondrous living gems offered some thing infinitely more lustrously chang able. It was, however, a brilliancy as restless, as little to be fathomed, ns the vagaries of a jack-o’-lantern on the wall. Young as shq was, Rena was a worldly-minded coquette to the very core already. She had inherited all the disposition and qualities of her mother, a celebrated beauty in her day. In other respects, Rena Crocker was de cidedly a young lady of tho period. Very certainly she belonged to her times in her resolution to got well mar ried ; that is to say, to some person of wealth and station—both together if possible, but tho former preferable, and then to enjoy herself at the utmost swing of fashionable dissipation and luxury for the remainder of her exis tence. ‘I don’t seo how it would he any harm,’ continued Rena, ‘as I wouldn’t do anything hut read it, and there is no knowing how it might be tampered with by that rascally cousin of mine be fore it is read next Saturday. I imagine grandfather left the bulk of ids property, to.me, but there is no tolling what no tion the old fool may have got into his head.’ liana was alone in her chamber. To think was to act with her. She knew that a will drawn up and signed by the old man a year before his death was in the dingy old library. She had often seen it, and wondered what were the contents so closely sealed from her eyes. It was dust, and she stole along thiodgh their dreary hall, she half re lented, and finally paused on the very threshold of the room she was seeking. Then, abiding herself for her weakness, she stole in, got the key of her grand father’s desk, and opened the drawer. There lay the will sealed, as she had often seen it. ‘But I’m no better off than before,’ she muttered ; ‘1 can’t open it.” It was no use to peep into its folds— only detached words could be seen.— But Bena was not inclined to be baffled in her curiosity. And she was as fer tile in her resources as the wiliest of her sex. Lighting a gas jet, she warmed the largo wax seal; then with the blade of a pocket knife, she carefully loosened it. It was done; the docu ment lay open before her I Her eyes rapidly devoured its contents, and her cheeks paled with anger. ‘The miserable old dotard!’ she cried The cause of her displeasure was the unpleasant and surprising fact that her grandfather had not left her a solitary cent. Every particle of his ample for tune went to Horace Warton. Her first nintive was to destroy the will! hut a second thought detained her—she feared the consequences of such an act. Again slightly heating the seal, she reatlixed it in its place, replaced the will in the drawer, and went back to her room. After the first gust of rago bad sub sided, she sat down to quietly think t’ho matter over. There seemed to bo but one way to retain any portion of the property, and that was by marry . I . 1, s, , ,v, Ile , ~.... L, ~,..,-;,, il ,---- ,- , t 4,,,,..„.. , L . t y• t 1,,,,, ~, . ,_ i,,utte t , jjpflftbil. IJrig hor cousin Horace. She hated him heartily, hut her vanity had always told hor that lie admired her. She know her beauty, and overestimated its effects upon tier stolid cousin. ‘But live days remain before the opening of the will,’ she mused'; ‘be fore that time I must lure Horace into an offer of marriage.’ About the time that Rena was gain ing her surreptitious knowledge of the will, her rich cousin Horace was seek ing after precisely the same informa tion. Betaking himself to the’ office of Barman Nesbjt, the lawyer who had b.en intrusted with the legal business of his grandfather, lie found that gen tleman alone. He knew something of the lawyer’s character and at once pro ceeded to business. ‘You drew up ray grandfather’s will, did you hot?’ ho asked. ‘Yes.’ .‘How long ago?’ ‘About six months. He hud prepared one a year ago, but, this makes an en tirely different disposition of the prop erty.’ ‘And what is that disposition ?’ The lawyer smiled. ‘I have no right to tell you.’ he said. ‘But you would toll me If sufllcieni reasons were advanced ?’ ‘Five hundred ?’ ‘Yes.’ Horace counted out the sum from his pocket-book, which. he had filled ex actly for this contingency, and the lawyer took it carefully counted it, and transferred it to his own pocket. ‘Now,’ ho said, ‘you may prepare yourself for tlie.worst possible news You are, by this will, cutoff from every doliair of your grandfather’s estate. ’ ‘You are certain of this ?’ ‘Of course I am ; I draw the will and saw it signed. The previous will left all to you, but your grandfather was whimsical. There came a change in his feelings, caused by some real or fan cied misconduct of yours, and so he left all to your cousin Bena. Horace was angry; lie cursed hia dead relative roundly, until the lawyer reminded him that his curses were useless. ‘But what can I do but curse?’ he asked. ‘l’ll tell you, tho will is to be read on Saturday—five days from this. In the meantime ask Rena to marry you,’ ‘But she wouldn’t do it, She hates me.’ ‘lt’s your only chance, and it is worth tho trial.’ ‘Couldn’t you destroy the last will?’ •No; it is not in ray possession. The old man had it among his papers some where; and, besides, there were two honest witnesses. Has your cousin a lover ?’ ‘No, I think not.’ ‘Then, believe me, your beet and only chance is to play for the fortune through marrying her.’ 1 vVell,’ said Horace, with, very little hope lu his tone, ‘it’s a mighty dim chance, hut I’ll try it,’ and went away. That afternoon the cousins met in the parlor. Each greeted tho other with a cordiality long unknown in their cous inly intercourse. They even chatted pleasantly, congratulating themselves upon the manner in which they were opening the game. ‘You must be quite oppressed with the gloom in this old house,’ said Hor ace, as ho was about to go, ‘mid I think a ride might do you good. I .will bo pleased to lake you this afternoon, if you would do mo the honor.’ ‘Nothing would please me better,’ replied the beauty, with a winning smile. The ride was had. Each of fire plot ter's endeavored to be agreeable. Horace was bland and attentive. Rena sat dis traetingiy close to him, was ns amiable as a Woman knows how to be when she tries, and used her matchless eyes with killing effect. They dined on'the road, and returned in the evening; and when they parted for the night, Rena allowed Horace for the first time in her life, to kiss her. The great change in their demeanor towards each other should havearoused mutual suspicion, but it didn’t. They, Were blinded by the glitter of the gold en stake. During the next day Horace remain ed nearly all day in the house, and in the society of his cousin. Ho proposed going to the theatre in the evening, but Rena urged.the impropriety of so do- log. I’heir grandfather’s recent death would make it highly improper in the eyes of their friends. ‘But We can go to Brooklyn,’ suggest ed Horace; ‘nobody will know us there.’ To which the beauty assented, and Horace kissed her. She didn’t resent his impudence ; on the contrary, her lips clung to his in a gentle, thrilling rejoinder. They went to the theatre, grew con fidential and loving, and supplemented their good-night-kisses with a hug. % ‘l’m progressing tremendously,’ thought Horace; ‘to-morrow I will propose to her.’ ‘l’m bringing him around famously,’ thought Ronaj ‘he will come to the point in a day or two.’ And come to the point ho did on the following Friday— the day before the opening of the will. Ho swore undy- ing love for her; she affected surprise j was sufficiently coy for appearances, but confessed an ardent passion for him —both lies found believing ears. After a largo amount.of hugging and kissing, which an occasion like this demands, they discussed the practical details. ‘I am impatient for the happy event,’ ho said squeezing her hand. ‘And so am I,’ she replied, returning le pressure gently. ‘But grandfather’s recent death’— ‘Bother grandfather,’ pouted Rena. ‘Couldn’t wo manage it somehow?’ He feared for his chance when she learned that he was penniless, CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL IT, 1873. ‘We can try,’ She was only anxious to liavo it set tled before he discovered her poverty. ‘l’ll -tell you, Eena,’ he said, as if struck by a new idea, ‘wo might gpt married privately, and keep it a secret until a becoming amount of time has elapsed.’ ‘As you please, dear Horace.’ ‘When shall wo have the ceremony performed ?’ ‘As soon as possible—that is, I mean as soon as you desire it.’ ‘To-morrow morning ?’ ■Yes.’ Two happier people than the cousins didn’t go to bed that night.. Each was self-congratulatory and triumphant. In the morning they went' in a car riage to a minister unknown to either arid were married. ‘Why its one o’clock!’ said Horace, as they re-entered the carriage. ‘We havejust time enough to go to the sur rogate’s office and have grandfather’s will rend.’ They arrived there to find several lawyers and the executors assembled. One of the latter was speaking. He held some documents in his hand. ‘Here are three wills', the first, leav ing his property to Horace Warton, was made about a year ago. The sec ond, dated six months later, leaves the estate to Rena Crocker. The third and last dated three months, ago; leaves all to charitable institutions. Of course, only the last is valid—the others are of no consequence.’ Rage and a'blank amazement tilled the faces of the plotting cousins ; blit they could do nothing. They rode dis consolately home in the carriage. They unburdened themselves of, their real sentiments toward each other. They expressed the most cordial hatred for each other. And they unanimously agreed to regard the marriage ceremo ny ns null and void. DIAMOND OUT DIAMOND, In the village of , lived a man who had once been a judge of the coun ty, and well known all over it by the name of Judge . He kept a store and a sawmill, and was always sure to have the best of the bargain on his side, by which he had gained ample fortune, and some did not hesitate to call him the biggest rascal in the world. He was very conceited withal, and used to brag of his business capacity whenever anyone was.near to listen. One rainy day as quite a number was seated around the stove, he began, as usual, to tell of his great bargains, and at last wound up with the expression : “Nobody has ever cheated me, nor they can’t neither.” " “Judge,” said an old man of the com pany, I’ve cheated you more than you ever did me.” “How so ?” said the Judge. “If you’ll promise you won’t go to law about it nor do anything, I’Jl tell you or else I won’t; you are too much of a law character for me.” “Let’s hear,” cried half a dozen voi ces at once. “i’ll promise,” said the judge “and treat in the bargain if you have.” “Well, do you remember the wagon you robbed me of?” , “i never robbed you of a wagon ; I only got the beat of the bargain,” said the judge. “Well, I made up my mind,to have it back, and—” “You never did,” interrupted the cute.judge. “Yes, X did ; and interest too.” “How so?” thundered the enraged judge. “Weil, you see, judge, 1 sold you one day a very nice pine log, and bargained with you for a lot more. Weil, that log. I stole otf your pile down by the mill the night before and the next day I sold it to you. “The next night I drew it back home and sold it to you the next day; and so I kept on till you had boughtyourown log of mo twenty-seven times.” “That’s a lie 1” exclaimed the infuri ated judge, running to his books and examining his log account. “You never sold me twenty-seven logs of the same measurement.” “t know it,” said the vender iu logs; “by drawing it back and forth the end wore off, and as it wore I kept cutting the end off until it was only ten feet long—just fourteen feet shorter than it was when I first brought it—and when it got so short I drew'dt home and worked it up into shingles, and I con cluded I had got the worth of my wag on.back, add stowed away in my pock et-book. The exclamation of the judge was drowned in theshoutof the bystanders, and the log-drawer found the door without the treat. Homely Women.—VV© like homely women. We do not carry the peculiari ty far enough to include the hideous or positively ugly, for since beauty and money are the only capital the world will recognize In women, they are more to be pitied than admired ; but we have a chlvairic, enthusiastic regard for plain women. We never saw one that was not modest, unassuming and sweet-tem pered, aud have seldom came across one who was not virtuous aud hud not a good heart, Made aware early in life of their want of beauty by the slighted attentions of the opposite sox. vanity and affection never takes root in their hearts; and in the hope of supplying attractions which a capricious nature has denied, they cultivate the graces of the heart instead of the person, and give to the mind those accomplishments which the world so rarely appreciates in women, but which are more lasting, aud In the eyes of men of sense, more highly prized than per sonal beauty. See them In the street, at borne or la the church,.aud they arc always the same; the smile which ever lives upon the face is not forced there lo fascinate, but la tbo spontaneous sun shine reflected from a kimi of heart—a dower which takes root in the soul and blooms upon the Ups, inspiring respect instead of passion, emotions of admira tion instead of feelings of sensual re gard. Plain women make good wives, good mothers, cheerful homes and happy husbands, and we never see one but wo thank heaven that it has kindly created women of sense us well as beauty, fur it Is, iudeed, seldom a female is found pos sessing both. "WHEEE JS_ HOME 7 Homo la where affection bimla Genllo hearts in unison; Where the voices of nil kinds Blond in sweet communion! Homo Is whoro tho heart can rest Pafo from darkening sorrow ; Whoro tho friends wo Jovo tho boat Brighton oyory morrow! Homo Is whoro the friouds that love To our honns aro given; Where tho blessings from above Make It scorn a heaven I Homo is whoro the sun will shine . In tho sklos nbovo us ; Peeping brightly through tho vino Trained by ihoso who love us! Yes, 'Us homo whoro smiles of cheer Wreathe tho brows that greet us ; Aud tho one of nil most dear Ever comes to meet us. BLUSHING. Why do we blush? What is the cause? Can it be prevented ? Why do the young blush more readily than the old? In answer to these questions science comes to our aid and informs us that this sudden reddening of the face is due to, a rush of blood into the capillaries of the skin. The influence of nervous conditions is strikingly exhibited by this phenomenon, the circulation of the blood, or rather the action of the heart being responsive to those emotions and passions which have immediate rela tion to the brain and nervous system. There is a marked difference among individuals in respect to blushing. One who is very sensitive to praise or blame has large Veneration, Approbativeness, and Conscientiousness—blushes op the sllghest occasion; while one with those organs small will be comparatively in different to either—will not be moved by censure or by applause, by the powers on earth or in heaven. A vivid consciousness of one’s poverty or ig norance, or other imperfection, tends to produce a feeling of humility, and this causes one to blush. Large Self-Esteem with Intellect, culture, and competence, gives assurance, makes one feel always at home whereyer he may happen to be, and this puts one above or beyoud the disposition to blush. The old say ing that a “ guilty conscience needs no accuser,” is based on the fact that one under conviction shows it in his face ; and a young rogue, when confronted with his wrong doing, will usually blush just in proportion to his sensi tiveness and his consciousness of guilt. The fact that one can not overcome his diffidence and look friend or foe in the face, is no evidence of sin or wick edness, as some suppose. On the con trary, it is often the case that the most innocent and virtuous are so bashful that it is next to imposible for them to look even an inferior squarely and steadily in the eye. He soon falters and assumes a downcast look in keep ing with his modest and sensitive na- lute. Self-confidence, for the diffldcni may be acquired, and though one would almost sink in his shoes the first time when he appears to speak before an audience, he will, by practice, over come his tlniidity, or “platform fev er,” as it is called, and when used to it, enjoy the slight agitation as a mental luxury. .At first he will be suffused with blushes, and his mind will some what be bewildered; soon, however, equilibrium takes place, arid “Richard is himself again.” The temperament also has much to do with our blushing. A nervous, sanguine temperament is much more susceptible than the lymphatic or bil ious, and a blonde than a brunette.— The African, the Asiatic, and the North American Indian may fed a. blush, though—owing .to the color of his skin- he may not show it. One cause of blushirig, on the part of some children, is produced by the mode of government adopted by in considerate parents and impatient teachers. Instead of mild measures, they resort to the most severe, namely, to that of shaming them. “Oh, you little dunce!” or, “You blockhead! did you not know better'than that?” if the child really believes the parent or leather, it will have a very ill opin ion of itself, and sink into a feeling of total unworthiness. What else but a look of humiliation and self-contempt can bo expected in the face of one so treated. The parent or the teacher may beget, in the minds of children, all the rudi ments of dignity, manliness, and so much real nobility of sentiment and soul that he would be above doing a mean act, however sorely tempted. Prevention : As in the effort to re claim the inebriate, we must look to the awakened moral sentiments, and come under such influences as wo know to bo right, if wo would overcome any mental or physical infirmity like that of stammering or blushing. Wo must bo careful to do just right between one and another, and between ourselves and our Creator. Then, with a con science void of offense, and a heart and will in perfect accord with the will of God—doing His service and asking His blessing on all we do—we shall suffer no more from the smiles or frowns of others, nor be crucified by that crushing feeling of unworthiness which causes weak, sensitive, and bash ful persons to beifiSme over-red in the face from a natural or induced tendency to painful blushing. An Auburn, Mo., fisherman u low since, while fishing through a hole in the ice, caught ft trout so largo that he could not bo brought through tho ori fice. The fisherman, however, gently played his fish with one hand while he chopped ice with tho other, until tho opening had been enlarged sufficiently, then with a jerk ho brought out a dead cat with a brick on its neck, tho entire prize weighing about nine pounds. The piufanity which ensued caused a heavy thaw for sixty rods in alj directions. When a man whips his wife in Memphis they call it tho “ghost of a sensation.” It Is because the whipper has generally been communing with “spirits.” A EEOBEANT LOVES. A Bacino (Wla.) paper.furnishes the following: " Frank is a youthful shoe maker, who works in Joe Miller’s boot and shoo factory. Frank is n suscepti ble youth, and his tender heart was smitten by the beauty and grace of one of the girla employed in tho factory. Now Frank is—or was—not a bad look ing leliow, and the maiden returned the tender passion, and Frank won her blushing consent to become his bride. Then for a time ail went happily. As be sat at his work pegging soles, be thought of two souls with but a single thought, and pensively pegged away. Time passed on with leadeu wings, and as the hour approached for the happy eonsummatiou, the impatience of the lovers increased. A week ago last Satur day be went to the priest’s house to be published in the church the next Sou day, as is the custom of those in the Catholic faith. The priest being absent, he was told to call again, but everything was finally arranged, and last Tuesday they were to have been married. During all this time the young mai den bad bdun busy. The wedding feast was prepared, her dress —with a trail three-quarters of a yard long, as he de sired it—was all finished, and all that was necessary was for the priest to make them man and wife according to the sol emn ceremonies of the church. When, without a word of warning, Powell took the cars and went to Chicago, leaving tlio poor girl to mourn in her wedding dress,’with a trail three-quarters of a yard long, with the wedding feast un tasted. His reasons for such conduct was that the girl was too poor to buy the outfit. Now, when it is known that she sup ports an aged, father and two little sis ters out of her earnings, and that she would not take anything from them to deck herself in finery, It will be admit ted that bis conduct was disgraceful, and that he was no way deserving so good a wife as she would have made. Last Sat urday he returned to town—and it com ing to the knowledge of the shopmates of the injured maiden, they held an in dignation meeting, when it was resolved by them that if Frank Powell over stuck his nose inside that shop they, would fix him. Ah! heartless deceiver!. he little dreamed what was In store for him. Fix him ? You bet be was fixed! Monday morning, with more cheek than a house pig, ho stepped into Miller’s office. As he did so the door behind him was locked and the key mysterious ly disappeared. Just then he was con fronted by the girl he had so faithfully promised to marry. Behind her were ten tierce damsels just aching to get at him. The girl reproached him for run ning away ; ho undertook to talk back ; she slapped his face. Whang went a bot tle of liquid blacking into his face. The battle broke and the blacking ran over him. He kicked and swore, and tore around; the girls screeched and scream ed, Ob, it was lively 1 At this moment the girl who bad been so cruelly treated, seized a two’ gallon pot of warm glue, and poured it on bis bead. He was the sickest looking shoe maker about that time that was ever in this city. Still thecombat.deepened, and but for some one unlocking the door, so that he was enabled to. escape, there is no telling what those indignant maidens might have done. Powell dove into another room, and commenced to scrape himself—he scraped and scraped and kept on scraping—he’s probably scraping yet. There was a poetic sort of justice in thus daubing him with that glue, for if he don’t stick to bis word he has some thing that will make him stick hereafter. The hoys in the factory hearing of the, way the girls had treated Powell, gave them an oyster supper that evening. Good Steers, ’‘t liked your sermon very much to day with a single exception,’ said a worthy pastor to a minister who had oc cupied bis pulpit a portion of the Sab bath. ‘Well, what was the exception? 1 T think you used too many technical phrases.' ‘Did I? I didn't think of it.' 'You repeatedly spoke of drawing in ferences. Now, that was Greek to many bearers.’ ‘O, no! Most every one, of course knows what we mean by drawing lufer- ences.’ 'You are mistaken, brother, assure us you live. I do not believe one-half of my congregation would understand the phrase-’ ‘You certainly canubt bo right.’ ‘I am. Now, there is Mr. Smith,’ pointing out a man just turning the cor ner, ‘who is quite an intelligent farmer. Wo will overtake him, and I will ask him if he can draw an inference, and I do not believe that he will understand me.' Accordingly the ministers quickened their pace, and aa they came.up to Mr. Smith, his pastor said to him ; ’Brother Smith, can you draw an in ference. Brother Smith, thus summarily inter rogated, looked at his pastor for some fif teen seconds quite surprised, and then rather hesitatingly said ; ‘Well, I suppose I could. I’ve got a pair of steers that can draw anything to which they are hilched. but I shouldn't like to on Sunday.' This is tho fatal time of year for old people. Looking over our exchanges, we note the remarkable fact that more than ono-thlrd of tho deaths reported are of persons between seventy aud ninety years old. Dear old folks, our grandfath ers and grandmothers, we beg you be a little careful of yourselves while the April winds still blow, and the showers bring dampness; Keep on your wrap pers, your cloaks aud overcoats, a little longer. .Stay la doors, except during tho bright midday sunshine, and sleep only In warm and carefully ventilated rooms. Not many summers can be spared you and the one Just before you is bright with promise. A few weeks of care and per haps self denial, and tho whole glorious summer will be secured to yon. It is worth living for. A young man at a party on being asked if be could play'the harpsichord wanted lo know if it was anything like seven up. , VOL 59—N0.45 A Strange Mooting. In the New Yorfs Utopafo/i, of a recent date, wo And an Incident growing out of tbo rebellion, under the above beading, ' and tbo Journal referred to relates bow, on an evening or two previous, a good looking man, a laborer, about thirty years of age, took the care at centre street depot, Newark, for Now York. There was but oner vacant seat In the car that be entered, and that was by the aide of a handsome and elegantly dressed lady. Tbo man sat down, and after bis fair companion bad removed her veil, bo was surprised to rec9gulzo in her bis wife, whom be bad not seen for more than twelve years. The lady threw her arms around bis neck and kissed him tender ly, and mutual explanations followed. It seems that they bad been married just before the breaking out of the war, at the borne of tbo lady iu Missouri. Her father was the owner of a large tract of land, but bad only a little money. He joined tbo rebel cause, and the daughter also warmly adhered lo the opinions of her father. Her husband, however was a decided Union man. She abused him violently on account of bis principles, and told him if he sided with the bloody Yankees be might leave tbo place, and she never wished to see his face again. He took her at her word, and the same night, lie left h.er nod joined Fremont's army ua a private. He wasseveral times taken prisoner and as often escaped to our lines. He pressed on with Sherman towards.the sea, and at the conclusion of bis term of enlistment be joined a New Yoik regiment, and by his means, at the; end of the war, found bis way to'Newark, where bo has since worked quietly, iu a factory. , ■ His wife's father was killed at Vicks burg, mid she was left solo possessor of his uuculti vated farm. She supported herself by working in a millinery estab lishment iu St. Louis, till after the close of the war; Her land rose in value and she sold It for a good price, realizing about.ss,ooo. With tills sum she started a millinery of her own iu St. Lonis, and succeeded splendidly. She is reported to be worth $40,000 or $50,000. She was on her way to New York to buy goods when she met the man whom she bud supposed long ago dead. Remorseful for driving him away, she had refused all offers of marriage. The joyous meeting caused the husband to forget his wife's error, and a present of a new suit of clothes, a diamond ring and a splendid gold watch, when they arrived in New York, served materially to increase his respect and affection for his long lost wife. They are now stopping at a fashionable hotel, joyous over the accident that uni ted them.' A Mammoth Pasture Farm Iu Texas. A late number of the Corpus Christ! (Texas) Gazette gives the following de scription of a mammoth pasture farm re cently fenced in. This farm is the property of those mosl enterprising citizens of Eockport, Messrs. Coleman, Mathias and Fulton, and em braces 121,000 acres of laud, and bounded on the 'south by Nuecea and Corpus Chrls- ti bays, on the east by about fifteen miles of fence, extending from the latter bay, from a point East of Corpus Christl reef to Puerto bay, and along this latter to the mouth of the Arkansas river; on the north by the Arkansasaud Chiltia creeks, and on the West having a fence of eleven miles, extending from theChillipin creak to Nueces Bay, This Vast domain is made up of locations made by the said Arm'by virtue of texas land certificates, and of lands patented by the stale and by said Arm purchas ed from the original grant ees. The cost of laud certlAcales and land has not been less than 300,000 in gold the fence not less than $25,000. Thor oughly advised stockmen inform us that at least 25,000 head ofstock can be cornier tably pastured and fattened within those bounds, and that the prolits arising from such business will be commensurate with the investments made. Aside, however, from profits to the originators, we consid er this enterprise of Inconceivable beno- Ats to our whole section of country. It' will practically the necessity and advantage of stock being represented by laud, grass, and water, possessed by or under the lawful control of the owners of the stock. The benefits resulting from fencing will be understood and apprecia ted; the example heretofore set by Cap- tain MifAiu Kennedy, and now carried out by Captain Elcbard King, and by said Coleman, Mathias & Pulton, will be followed and imitated by every other hon est and sensible stockman—fencing will become the order of the day—lands will cease to bo almost worthless as at present —slock will bo secure and safe from the depredations of Mexicans and robbers generally, and In Increase and sales will yield treble that now produced, while “skinning” and "peeling" will cease to be a d isturblng and demoralizing ele lueut. Anecdote of Pope, Alexander" Pope once received a sharp rejoinder, whereby a pointed hit was made at his diminutive and illshaped figure. The poet was, one evening, at Bur ton’s coffee house, where himself and Swift and Arbuthnot, with several other scholars, were poring over, a manuscript copy of the Greek Aristo phanes. At length they came across a sentence which they could not com prehend, and as in their perplexity they talked rather loudly they attracted tho attention of a young officer who chanced to be in another part of tho room. Ho approached and begged leave to examine tho passage, ‘Oh, by all means,’ said Pope; sarcas tically. ‘Let tho young gentleman look at it. Wo shall have light direct ly.’ Tho young officer took up tho manu script volume and after a little study and consideration, his countenance brightened. ‘lt is but a slight omission on tho part of the scribe,’ ho said, ‘it only wants a note of interrogation at this point, to muko tho whole intelligible.’ Poposaw in an instant that the offi cer was right j but tho thought ol being outdone in Greek translation, by a moro youth and a rod coat, piqued him, and with a sharp, bitter twang ho cried out : ‘And pray, young sir, what is a note of interrogation V’ ‘A note of interrogation,’ answered the officer, surveying tho wizened, bunch backed poet Irom head to foot with a contemptuous look, ‘is a little crooked thing that asks questions.’ XtiiitoH ot AilyortKlng. No. Union 1 hq. a wq. i 3 i»q. 4 srj. \\ o \\ c l cdl 1 week. 8i oo cTm fToo h"oo sTw iTsToo laa a 3 •' l GO 3 00 4 00 600 0 00 M 00 £6 00 3 “ 2 00 Ito 600 500 11 00 10 00 to 00 •I •• 2 50 4 75 575 0.75 13 60 lh 00 82 60 6 •• a 00 6 60 0 60 7 60 14 0U iO 00 85 00 0 “ 360 0 50 7 00 H 50 15 60 22 60 37 CO . 2 months 4 00 7 60 8 51. 0 50 17 50 85 00 42 60 3 •• 5 00 8 60 0 60 10 60 SO 00 fO 00 W) 00 0 " 7 50 10 00 12 60 1H DC 2* 00 40 00 75 10 1 year* 1 00 15 00 30 00 25 Ml 10 00 75 00 100 00 Twelve 11 For Excc For Audi For Afwk Hues constitute a square, colors’ ant! Adm'ra'.Notices. :i •»'< liters’ Notices, - U) lances* and almllni Notices, d 00 riy Cards, not exceeding six Hues, 7 (hi louiiccmoots five cents per Uuo uu icted for by the year, less and bpccial Notices. 10con*s For Yofttf For Aum less conlr«' For Husli per line. ilumn rulvcr.Momenta extra, Double c< HUMOROUS. “ Fat Woman’s Bend” is the classic name of a small village on tho Missouri River. The Now Orleans Picayune says that in the olden times in Louisiana, when a man had a lawsuit, lie used to hire a lawyer, hut now ho has to hire n judge. Professors of geology are now de bating the following question: “ Were there bugs in tho carbonifer ous beds?” A sharp editor who understands arith metic has figured out tho problem that figures won’t lie. He says they will— especially tho figures of some, women. Some of tho spring bonnets are of tho most curious description and style. They form almost a point over the forehead, and are fine combination of lace feathers, flowers, jet and hair pins. The top mils of fences in Maine are commencing: to reappear through the snow. A paper puts the matter which it wishes to enforce in the following simile: “ You might as well try to almmpoon an elephant with a thimblefull of soupsuds, as to attempt to do business and ignore advertising.” You can't got Into respectable society in Atlanta just now, unless you have fifteen or twenty measle’s below your shirt collar. There are only fifteen hun" drejl cases in that city. A recently deceased judge possess ed remarkable talents as a punster. “Pray, my lord,” said a lady, “can you toll what sort of a bird the bulbul is"” "It is the male of the coo-coo, I sup pose,” replied the humorous judge. A clairvoyant trio, two women and a man, have been travelling in the South, pretending to cure epizootic by the “laying on of hands.” They prac ticed on a mule in Kentucky the other day, and the firm lias since dissolved. A pond husband boasted to a friend, “Tom, the old woman came near call ing mo honey last night.” “Did she, 1 Bill? What did she say?” “She said, ‘Weil, old Beeswax, come to sup per.’ ”, When the “member from Dutch Gap,” as the New York Herald stylos him, made his boast, that he was “Qod-made, not a newspaper-made man,” it was too much for the Incredu lous “Sunset” Cox, tyho ejaculated: “You do not look or act like your father.” The coolest man yet discovered is he who stopped a train bn the Pennsyl vania Railroad the other night by swinging a lantern, and handing the fireman spmo currency, requested him to bring down a quarter of a pound of flue cut tobacco. A BMfciiiT little boy hearing hia father say. that a man ought to “stick to his business/’ emptied ajiottie of mu cilage in the old gentleman’s office chair. The old man says he has not been stuck so badly since 1857, and re warded his offspring by taking him on Whaling trip to the .back cellar. Barnum is going: to make his ani mals Are-proof now. The elephant will wear a corrugated iron over-coat, the baboons will have Babcock’s extin. gulsher strapped on their backs, while the camels and other animals will bo coated heavily with Are-proof paint. “ How much to publish this death ?” asked a customer of a newspaper in New York. “ Four shillings.” “ Why, I paid but two shillings the last time I published one.” , “That was a common death; but :his is sincerely regretted.” “ I’ll tell you what,” said the appli cant, “your executors will not bo put to that expense.” An old bachelor said “there’s a darn ed sight more jewelry worn now-a days than when I was young. But there’s one piece that I always admired which I don’t often see now.” “What is that;?” asked a young lady, “A thimblis,” was the reply. Ho was re garded with contempt and scorn by every lady in the room for the rest of the evening.’ Salt.—Do you think to much salt ia njurious to the system ? Do some . per sons need more salt than others? Atis, '“Too much” of anything is injuri ous. We think moat people eat to much salt. If one eats more than the constitu tion requires, the system has to get rid of it as foreign mat erial. Meat-eating ani mals eat no salt at all in their natural state, and no oat or dog would eat meat, however slightly salted, if they could get that which is entirely fresh- The llosli of those animals which are oaten as food doubtless,contains enough of the salt ele ments for the health of the eater. Men learned to use salt by slaughtering an ox, and being obliged to preserve tbe major part of ft by salting it. If all men could gel fresh meat when they desired, there would be no salt meat required, and in a generation or two the habit of eating salt ed meat would die out. It is only the vegetable-eating animals that will accept salt; and we fancy thnt.lf cattle could run at large, and have natural garss from un exhausted soils, they would cat that grass only which hud enough saline mut ter in it for their constitutional needs. It issaid that buffaloes visit the salt licks In the spring only, when the grass is Im mature, and the head ones go to the lick and satisfy themselves ; and as they turn about, the tail of the drove is compelled to reverse its 01 der