The American Volunteer l-miI.IBIIKD KVKBY THUI&DAY MOHNINO B. 'Bratton. Oh’fi&t%QUTn MARKET SQUARE. I=l Tkbms.— Two dollars por year If paid strictly In advance. Two Dollars and Filly Cents 11 paid within throe months, after which Three Dollars will bo charged. These terms will ho rigidly adhered to In every Instance. No sub scription discontinued until all, arrearages are 'fvdd. unless at the option of IholSldltor. Ipoefal what will become of the poor MAH. nv FAitatnu. Gill what Will become of the poor man? Hays I am a mechanic, but work I have none; My tools are all rusted, said he, with a frown, And I am quite sick and tired of town. Far better had poor mortal never been born. Than bo where the few cause the many to mourn; Who, living in luxury and at their ease,' Smile at'man's misfortune, his burden to ln> crease, The world now locns drear, ho sighingly said ; The country must sulTer, her statesmen are .dead; The rich hoard up money, still more bouds-lo buy, And enterprise cripple and ruin thereby. Tlio rlolr aro made rlolier, the poor aro distressed, TaxationJnoreoslns, tax-payors oppressed. The iuoaey squandered, the debt still grows on. And no labor In town for the poor man at home. Tho pfty of.tho big men In olllco. Is raised— A thing for which law makers will not. be .praised. Tho pay of Ulysses is doubled. I hear, While still there is nothing to do for me here. Can' men, who would pass such outrageous laws. Bo true to their country ami true to her cause 7, Can congressmen thus from their duty depart, And yet have the good of the people at heart? Can statesmen, who say they are loyal and true, Go In for the wrong, while the right they should do; - Fur tho sake of the dollar put through a bill. To got what theiy earn not, their pockets to fill 7 Are such men not wasting the money awaj Increasing the tax which tho poor have to pay 7 They love not their country, but grasp for tho • gold— ’ Caro not for this Union, are bought and are sold, The love of money is an evil, Indeed ; For oft it dbes frail human nature mislead. It causes dishonor, and much ol man's wo, And leads him away from the path ho should go. Toll mo, my dour reader; where is there to-day A. Benton, a Webster, a Douglas, or Clay ? Go now whore you. will and search earth all around, • Such statesmen as they were, cau no more be found. They worked for. the. good of the many and all Were true to their country and true to her call. -The moito of those noble men of the past Was. “ Our country Aral, and our country last I They died tail of honor, their labors well done; They passed from this life, their spirits went Tbelr'ereat fame si read o'er this land of the free—* Their names through all nges immortal shall be, 'glßallaneo®. an old-fashioned eemedy. Work Versus Herb Tea. by r. tuoiine, Mrs, Whitaker was much troubled about Busan. All summer she had been in a pale, languid, half-alive condition, With no strength, no appetite, no inter- est in anything. • Mrs. Whitaker having a never-suth ciently gratified passion for doctoring, had at first rather enjoyed this oppor tunity of trying the virtues of the va rious roots and herbs that hung m dry, dusty bundles from the garret rafters. Susan’s life had been made a burden to her by. doses bf thoroughwort, penny royal, tanaey. dandelion and burdock. There was always a big bowl of black, bitter herb-tea standing in the pantry, which it was equally the object of M>s. Whitaker’s life to induce Susan to take, and the object of Susan’s to escape. Ana still Susan lay around the house in an exceedingly limp state, reading novels with a languid interest, study ing her symptona in the “ FmmlyAd-- Vlser,” and outline out such scrap poetry from the newspapers as dwelt on the hollowness of the world, unappre ciated loveliness, and early death. Nod Whitaker, Susan’s younger brother, was decidedly skeptical on the subject of her Illness. ‘lt s etiough to make any one sick, to do as Sue does, said ho. energetically. *K she gebUP earlier in the morning and does a little hosuework she’d get well twicemm' as she does now, dosing and coddling. ‘A great deal you know about it, retorted Susan, with considerable vigor for an invalid; ’I like to hear boys talk They know so much-m their own es timatioD.* . •See here. Sue 1 What if that inter esting young school-master should hear you speak so to your brother? It don’t sound very angelic. 'Sue said nothing, only blushed a I t tie and assumed that plaintive, meek ly’injured look, which says plainly, ‘You’ll be sorry for this ■ when X m e °‘Fudgo, Bue,’ said Ned,'quite unlm nressed 'Won't look so spoony.’ and off he went, whistling and banging the was a fact that there had been a who a™: rrc.■-•«> - •** away.’ Perhaps Susan, having ooth- Im? else to do, had pleased herself by fancying she was in love with this gay deceiver. A girl must do something- Mrs. Whitaker was one of those inde fatigable, irrepressible women, a scru pulously neat and exact housekeeper, who loved work only for its own sake, and ‘didn’t want anyi one bothering 'Tt one time Susan had quite a mania for cooking, but Mrs. Whitaker, after witnessing her awkward struggles with lt’s easier for TMI tiulf And now Mrs. Whitaker thought Susan so delicate she relieved her of even these light duties, and left her with nothing to do hut realize, in her own experience, the truth of the sayr ?A B mlll-«touo ana the human heart are over It they else ,to grlml. they must Ihemaolvea bo ground. . to know all the weariness of an empty, aimless Ufa. the Iramcan iolnntecr JOM.B. BRATTON. September came, and yet Susan re mained in u slain of dhcouraging about-the-snniem i-s. Mrs. Whliakir ■ thought she would drive oyer nod con sult Aunt Debbie Dunbar. Aunt Debbie was a woman of vast experience in sickness. i-ibe bud brought a la rge family of her own suc cessfully through nil the mumps, measles, and oilier ills infant tleslr is heir to, and was now experimenting on a yearly increasing circle of grand children, besides acting ns adviser general for the whole neighborhood.— What Aunt Debbie didn’t know about doc toring was generally considered not worth knowing at all. As Mrs. Whitaker drove up she de scried Aunt Debbie’s ample form out in the garden, bending over the sage bed. At the sound of wheels, she straightened up, pushed her sun-bonnet back and peered sharply through her speclacles to see who was going by. ‘Well, I never!’ she exclaimed as Mrs. Whitaker drove into the yard.— ‘lf it ain’t you, Miss Whiiaker! I was jest thinkin’ about ybu. How dew ye do? Seems as if I hadn’t seen you for an age. Cum right along in, and Kiah’H put your horse out.’ ‘Thank you, but I’ve only come lor a call; I enh’t stop long.’ ‘Well, how- d’ye all do at home?’ .asked A unt Debbie, after she had ushered her visitor into the sitting room, rolled up one green paper cur tain, and settled down to her knitting. Aunt Debbie could always talk easier with her knitting work in hand. ‘Pretty well, thank you, except Bu san. I ,came over partly to see you about her. She don’t seem to get along as I should like to have Her.’ ‘Miss Haskell was tellin’ me, last Sunday, how ailin’ Susan’s ben, this slimmer. From what Miss Haskell said I should think she’s a good deal as my Melissa was, five years ago. I cured Melissa with boneset.’ ‘Susan’s been taking that, more or leas, all summer,’ ‘Does she cough any ?’ ‘Ni.’ ‘Because if she did, colt-foot tea is a grand thing. Ain’t she bilious i* •I shouldn’t wonder if she was.” ‘Well, now if she was my girl I should give her a dose of blue pill - to begin with, find follow it out with a smart course of costor ile or salts. X should keep right on with the boneset three times a day-’tis very strength enin’—and I’d have her take a raw egg in half a glass of cider every mornin’ before breakfast. That’s one of the best things I know offer weakly folks. Is she nervous about sleepin’ ?’ ‘Yes, sheds, rather.” ‘There is nothin’so good foruarvous ness as hop tea. Give her some every night, the last thing before she goes to bod, ami make her a hop pillow. I guess, if you follow her up thoroughly, you’ll bring her out all tight. There’s nothin’ like bein’ thorough,’ said Aunt Debbie with the emphatic air of long experience After much further advice, Mrs. Whitaker set out for home, burning with zeal to ‘follow up’ Susan with all Aunt Debbie’s prescriptions. What the consequences would have been to poor Susan, one shudders to think.— Fortunately fate kindly interposed In her behalf. It seems a clear ease of one ‘born in the woods to be scared at an owl,’ that the old Whitaker horse should take into his ancient head to be frightened at a'mowing machine. But such was actually the lact. As he was jogging along, head down, apparently lost in memories of his far-away youth, ho came suddenly upon Deacon Foskett's rattling, clattering, mowing machine. Up went his head, one snort, one jump sideways, and away ho plunged down the hill, twitching the-reins from Mrs. Whitaker’s hand by the suddenness of this unexpected start. ■ A big rut at tho foot of the h ill—over goes tho wagon on top of Mrs. Whitaker—and Deacon Foskett and his hired man ran down the hill to find Mrs. Whitaker with one leg Woken, a sprained shoulder and any amount of bruises and wrench- ings, What wks to come of the Whitakers, now that tie main spoke of the domes tic wheel was useless? They hire a girl, of course, suggests the intelligent reader. But hiring a girl in Tully was no such trifling matter. A small factory in the village absorbed all the American'girls of the vicinity, who would otherwise have worked in fami lies, and there being no Catholic church within ID 1 miles, the Irish girl that could ho induced to live on a farm was a rura avii indeed. Mr. W.liitaker devoted a week to driving ojer the hills in different di rections iu pursuit of various myths of possible this that vanished into thin air on elisor Inspection. Now Mrs. Haskell had heard of a very nice girl over iu/Benham, Franklin Lesters wife’s sister, who was anxious to secure a place. By the time Mr. Whitaker reached Beuham the nice girl had ou traged tb teach a district school. Ar rived afhorao he found Mrs. uoodman had snog the praises of a certain ‘wid ow woman’ on Stony Hill. Mr. Whitaler hies him to Stony Hill to find thji widow gone to keep house for her brother. ‘I dailare,’ said Mr. Whitaker to Su aan al he returned, girlless and dis pirite/i, from his long drive, ‘I bohevo if I wanted a wife I could get six easier than . can get one girl.’ , ‘Dtn’t try any more, father, earn SusaiJ. 'We can get along somehow. Ned md I can do the work.’ !Tliat’s so,’ said Ned bull^team.’ ‘Dim’t be so low, Ned,’ said Busan, who; had undertaken the somewhat discouraging task of ‘elevating’ Ned.- Boy* resent ‘elevating, * especially by the* own sisters, and accordingly Ked ratlpr exerted himself to be slangy in. Busin's presence. Rit now a feeble wail was heard from the bed-room where poor Mrs. Whitaker lay, fevered and helpless op I herrestlesa couch. ‘You’ must get a girl, father,’ she re monstrated. ‘Susan can’t do the work. It will be a long time before she is strong enough, and besides she has not the experience. Oil dear, if I could only be about and do the workraysMfi I can’t be reconciled to lying here when there’s so much to do 1’ To sooth hia wife, Mr. Whitaker promised ,to try once more, and finally one night drove into the yard in tri umph, seated on a small hair trunk, an actual ‘girl’ in propria persona, band box in hand, sitting in state on the seat behind him. The new girl’s name was Luna, ‘pale Luna,’ Ned called her. She was tall and bony, wore her hair cut short in the neck, and rejoiced in a bass voice that was a perpetual surprise in the family. Luna soon developed ways, that, if not ‘dark’ .were decidedly un comfortable. - Ned always declined pie, after he once saw Luna, as she cut each piece drawing tho knife-blade through her mouth to ‘cleanse’ it. No matter what she had previously been doing,she stirred Mrs. Whitaker’s heef tea with her finger without going through the ceremony ot washing her hands,-and tasted it freely witli the same spoon offered the invalid. She told Susan she ‘liked to make bread, it takes the grind off your hands so nice.’ Under her ad ministration, tho appetites of tho Whitakers dwindled alarmingly. Su- sun, who saw the most of Luna’s cook ery, lived entirely on crackers. When Mrs. Whitaker heard that i.uu'a prepared the potatoes for dinner in the wash-hand basin, and put the best tea-knives soaking in tho bottom of the pan while she did the other dishes, tea-kniveS whoso glossy handles were Mrs. Whitaker’s pride,'her in dignation knew no bounds. ‘I won’t have her in the house an other minute! I can’t sleep till she is out of it| The ideal My best tea knives 1 I’ve been particular never even to dampen the handles, and al ways kept teem put away in tissue pa per and now they’re ruined 1 Do get her out of the house before she spoils everything in it, and poisons us all 1’ Luna went. Susan cleaned up the house, and prayed, whatever other calamity might bo in store for them, they might at least bo spared another girl. Susan was much better now. Her mother’s illness had taken her out of herself, and obliged her to make some exertion. She went into housework with a will, equally pleased and sur- prised to find herself really good for something. Ned helped her all he could, and novel were some of the ex periments of what Ned, called the ‘new girls.’ One day Susan decided to have baked beans for dinner. She put something like two quarts boiling. By and by, looking in the pot, she was dismayed to lind it full to the very brim. She took out nearly half but still the beans continued to swell beyond her wildest forebodings. Ned came in to dinner to fin d an immense dish ol baked beans crowning the dinner table, with seve ral pans of the same agreeable edibles, in various stages of doneness, were standing around in-the kitchen. ‘Whe-ew 1’ exclaimed Ned. ‘You’re a good provider, .-me, but seems to me you are rather overdoing this bean business. I .'feel about beans as the old lady’s hired man did about liver. He liked it well enough for fifty or sixty days, but didn’t care about it for a steady diet,’ ‘Don’t laugh, Ned,’ said poor Sue, looking anxioua and exhausted. ‘l’ve had a really dreadful time with the things. I positively believe three beans would have been enough.' Susan usually had very good success with her bread. But one day there arose an.unforeseen complication. The sponge had soured in the nigtit. ‘Ned,’ she said, ‘did you ever notice how much soda mother uses when the sponge is sour? I’m sure I don’t know.’ . • ‘Nor I. I guess she just stirs it till it tastes all right.’ She put in a largo tea-spoonful' of soda. Then she and Ned both tasted and smelt it. ■’Tain’t right yet,’ said Ned, with an air of wisdom and experience. ‘Dab in some more.’ In went another spoonful. Another testing by the cooks. ‘lt tastes smarty,’ said Sue. ‘I be lieve I shall put in another spoonful.’ After getting in four spoonfuls, they concluded it would ‘do.’ The bread came out of the oven a deep yellow-brown in hue, and exhal ing an overpowering odor of soda. Sue made buscuit for tea, and the pigs reveled in new biead for supper that night. Ned, being implicated, swore solemn secrecy, and, as he used after ward triumphantly to observe, ‘it didn’t kill the pigs, either.’ But Susan’s experiences were not all so disastrous. Mrs. Whitaker was quite astonished to see bow well things went. She really began to think Susan was a ‘natural cook.’ Daughters of such notable housekeepers as Mrs. Whitaker are apt to be ‘natural cooks. Order and method is the rule of the house, and they adopt, instinctively, ‘mother’s way,’ of doing things. A ■certain deftness and skill is hereditary with them. Perhaps, if Susan hau, as she sometimes wished in the old dreamy days, been an ‘authoress, her proudest triumphs would have given her no deeper thrill of pleasure than when her father said : ‘Susan, this is really a capital squash pie If your mother don’t look out, you’ll beat her yet. Just give me an other piece.’ One day Ned astonished Sue with a bona tide compliment. , You’re growing handsome, Sue, ‘Wd’ll make Sue thought Ned waa muting Inn of her, thereby, for once, doing him on injustice. For there ia no surer cos metic and beautifler than house-work, when not carried to excess. No amount of dumb-bells, flesh-brushes. constitu tional’'walks and drives gives the oner gy. the brisk circulation, the cheerful CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 29, 1873. tone to body and mind that comes from the vigorous, varied exorcise of house work. Sue flew briskly around the house now, singing ns she made beds up stairs, with thefresh morning air sweep ing breezily through the open Windows, now sweeping the sitting-room, now kneading dough, now out in the garden for vegetables, all this varied work bringing every muscle into play the more healthy, because not done delibe rately and with ■ ‘malice aforethought.’ ‘How do you leel to-day, Susan?’ queried Mrs. Whitaker, anxiously. ‘I really don’t know, mother,’ re plied Susan, laughingly. ‘I haven’t had time to think.’ And so Suo had grown pjump and rosy, had a buoyant step, a light and sparkle in her eyes, the radiance ivs looks and spirit that comes from a sound mind in a sound body. One Monday Suo was in the clothes yard, trying to' hang out the clothes. She was short, and the lino high up, the wind blowing a gale. It certainly was a provoking wind. It blew Sue’s sun bonnet off, apd her curly brown hair into all sorts of wild tangles and tousles, and the table cloth she was try ing to hang up kept flapping back pll over her. Sue stood on tiptoe, strain ing hor arms up, and struggling in vain with the refractory table cloth. •Let me help you, Sue,’ said a plea, sant, manly voice. She extricated herself from the mazes of the table doth to And Charlie Good man beside her. Charlie was working in his south lot, which joined the Whi takers’ garden, and seeing his neigh bor’s distress, had come to the rescue, like the kind-hearted fellow he was. ,‘Oh,"thank you, Charley,’ said Sue, with perhaps more color in her cheeks than the wind was solely responsible for. U was so vexatious to bo caught looking so. And Hue hastened to roll down her sleeves, and conceal her blushes under her sun bonnet.' while Charlie hung up the table cloth and let the line down within her reach. It is ns pleasant for a woman to be helped, as for a man to help. She felt quite a glow of gratitude to Charlie. ‘How nice it is to be tall 1’ she said. -‘I am ever so much obliged to you.’ ‘Not at all. lam glad to do it. A lit tle body like you ought always to have a tall man around somewhere handy, to help her,’ said Charlie, looking not unadmiringly down on the flushed face and tangled brown curls unifier the sun bonnet. ‘Nonsense, Charlie 1’ laughed Sue slyly, stooping to pick up a clothes pin. Charlie went back to his work, won dering he had never noticed -before a pretty girl .Sue Whitaker was. Somehow, Charlie found a great deal to do In the south lot that fall. Any defi ciency on his part, .hitherto, In “notic ing” Susan, was more than atoned for now. He-always had an eye out in the direction of the Wliilaker mausioii. The number of errands ho discovered that ne cessitated bis “just ruunlug over" there was really surprising. Of course, he was often thirsty, and obliged to step into the kitoben-fora drink ot water. Then,, noth ing could bo more natural than that he should stop and chat a few minutes with Sue. Rogers might often have founda pleas ing model for a statuette group Illustra tive of New England life, in the Whita ker kitchen, consisting of Sue, in a big bib-apron, that only served to setoff her plump, rounded form, with sleeves rolled up, a pie-plate gracefully poised ou one little hand, with the other deftly cutting the edges of the crust, listening with rosy cheeks and downcast eyes to Charlie, who looks manly and handsome, in spite of his shirt-sleeves and, overalls, as he leans, straw hat in hand, against the pump, and talks, with his lips, of the weather, perhaps with his eyes, of far different topics. The interest Charlie took in Mrs. Whi taker’s health was truly touching. He called so often to inquire for her, and lis tened so politely fo all her symptoms, that Mrs. Whitaker took a great fancy to him, and was always telling every one what a remarkably nice young man Charlie Goodman was; on which oeea slouh Sue generally discovered she had an errand in the kitchen, or anywhere out of the room. In short Charlie not only loved his neighbor as himself, but a great deal better. As for Sue, the memory of the young school-master had faded like a morning dream. She came to feel such an interest in Charlie’s prosperity, that, rather than have him waste so much time, she con sented, In the spring.' to move perma nently over to the Goodman house. She made as brisk and blooming a matron as one often sees, end "they lived happy forever afterward as happy, at all events, as is possible In a world which sometimes has sharp trials for even tht most loving and united hearts. If any one still asks what cured Susan I shall reply by quoting Miss Alcott “Love and labor, two beautiful bid fash lons, that began long ago, with the firt pair In Eden.”' BUEEED ALIVE. Sad Accident at Honesdnlo, Fa, Port Jervis, N. Y., May 13.—Hoipa dale Pa.',' was, on Saturday eveningjhe scene of a terrible casualty. A new ew er trench that was being dug had een lelt by the workmen in a rather uipro teoted condition, and a number of fttle girls were rupning through It, plying bide and seelf- While thus engaed, a large portion of the trench caved t, bu rying beneath It two of the childrii. one named McLean and the other Manflsh. A brother of the McLean girl sawiho ac cident. and ran home at once, ad told his father. -The latter hastenei toi the spot, and seeing the lingers of oi) of the children sticking out above thrturface, he at once commenced digging rlth his hands to uncover her face. In oremark ably brief time ho succeeded Inclearing the dirt away from her face, ail was re jolcod to find that his daughtei after be ing exposed to the air, ehowd algns of life. She was extricated fro* the dirt, and soon regained oonsolousuoS. When her face was uncovered flri, It was as black as a negro’s. The brother of the girl, vpen he gave the alarm, did not know thol waaanotb -ler child burled with his slstf. This fact was not-known until tho rescued child was able to speak, when she at ones re vealed it. Three or four men at once procured shovels and commenced digging for tho other little girl. A large crowd had assembled by this time and tho wild est excitement prevailed. It was several minutes before the body of tho unfortu nate little one was discovered. It was in a sitting posture, with the head crushed forward on tho knees. The little girl had evidently been instantly killed by the great weight that was upon her. She Was badly Injured internally. Like tho McLean child, her face was black. The mother aud sisters of the child wore in the crowd when her body was found, and their cries were heartrending, The father is an industrious German, a machinist, and had that day moved Into the village. He did not know of the fate of his child until ho came into the crew’d on his way home from work. The trench had been pronounced unsafe, and the workmen were, themselves afraid of its caving in unou them. PAPER BALLOON ASOEHSION. i Ton Milo JErial Eide in a Paper Ship. The Reading 2hues gives the following account of the daring ascension of Prof. Donaldson on the 17th inst.: Donaldson, the irrepressible, the intrepid aeriel gym nast, has again astonished his neighbors and fellow citizens; On the above day be telegraphed to Mr. John D. Mish ler from Bethlehem, from which place he had made an ascension on Thursday evening, thUt he would make an ascen sion in his paper balloon, “John D. Mishler," on Saturday afternoon from Reading. Ho arrived in this city on the 1 50 New York train from Bethlehem, in the afternoon and immediately com menced preparations, for the' inflation and ascension. The paper balloon, “JohnD. Mishier,’ has been manufactured for some time. It is made of the same material as that in which goods are wrapped, and of course It is very frail In its structure. . The pro fessor has made several attempts, and had met with os -many reverses from windy and wet weather, jthat it was doubtful if th is attempt woild prove suc cessful. However, the wotil fail or cow ardice are unknown in the Donaldson vocabulary, and consequently the pre liminary preparations were commenced. Meanwhile several thousand people had assembled in Penn square. Tho process of inflation was somewhat slow, and the condensation of gas after tho sun had gone down added somewhat to the de tention, but at fifteen minutes past seven everything being in readiness, the com mand “let go" was given, and the bal loon rose gracefully and majestically. Prof. Donaldson was seated iu the rig ging, having dispensed with the basket and appurtenances, which could not be carried along. He rose to a considerable height, and sailed in an almost direct southerly direc.iou. The balloon pre sented a grand ippearance in the depart ing rays of thefsuu which hud just set, Wbtm he left ho earth. It. woo visible for about Ufteiu minutes, and appeared to be almost satibuary, the wind having lulled to an ippareul calm. At intervals he waved Us handkerchief, and 'was greeted witl’hearty and prolonged Cheers from tho enhusiastlc thousands of look ers on. Helauded lllteen minutes before eight o’clock in a Held about ten miles from Beadhg. The landing was success fully acooupliahed and with but little difficulty, dthough the balloon was much torn and vas left on the field. Not. be ing able b obtain,a conveyance, he had to walk biok to Reading, arriving here a few minitea befo re eleven o'clock. For the first time In his life Prof. Don aldson vllnessed two sunsets in one eve ning, uo first before he had left terra firma, .ud the second after he had got beyoat’ the clouds. The latter ho de scribesas beautiful beyond description. Tbit is the first paper balloon ascen sion ly an aeronaut on record. Although it prbfed successful, and was the cheap est sponsion iu a pecuniary sense that couh be made. Prof. Donaldson has no desie to repeat It —not” for fear of the safey of the ascension, but because of the frai character of the balloon and the al mot certainty of Us destruction in mak lu(a lauding. "he weight of the "John D. Miahler," ws 48 pounds, being but half that of the odinary balloon of a similar capacity. It hid 14,000 cubic feet of gas. The cost of t,e paper used in the construction snounted to $5.20. AN ELEOTEIO STOEM, fhe Electric Fluid Strikes a Early of Oard- Playora—One Killed—Appalling Scene in a Laborer's Cottage. A special correspondent of the 'Wil mington Commercial, writing from Mid dletown, says : “The thunder-storm of the 17th Inst, was terribly severe in sev eral places In St. George’s Hundred, in one case with fatal results. In a tenant house, on Mr. Price’s farm about four miles beyond this town, near Bunker Hill, some ten or twelve colored men were seated at a table playing cards. The fearful vividness of the llghtulug frightened one of the party, named Ben jamin Dares, and, rising from the table with an oath, be exclaimed that ho was ■going to bed out of the way.’ He pro ceeded upstairs, and got Into bed between two colored children, and had hardly laid down when a bolt of lightning en tered through the roof, piercing a hole through the man’s head from temple to temple, killing him, of course, instantly. "The children were unharmed, but in the lower room, the table, cards and 'men, were scattered in every direction. With the exception of one man who was badly burned on the back, all escaped with being severely stunned. As soon as they could tbe whole party left the house,[now in flames, as if for their lives. One of them, however, returned and res cued the children, and body of the dead man: ibe others ran up the road to a store, where they took refuge on the porch in goods boxes, and any place that ollered apparent security, fervently pray ing for a cessation of the auger of the mighty powers. Their prayers were not favorably answered, ns a-bolt of the terri ble giectric fluid entered the front of the store,passing through,and tearing out the greater part of the rear end. A goods box, behind which one of the colored men was standing, was torn in splinters: a new pale fence, along which crowded two or three men, was entirely demolish ed, and things smashed up generally. Another retreat was now made at a rap id speed, and for what we know, some of the party may still be on the run." firmness. BY PHBBC OAKEY. Well, let him go, and lot him stay— I do not mean to dio; I ghoss ho'll And that I can live • Without him, If I try. Ho thought to frighten me with frowns So terrible and black— Ho'll stay away a thousand years Before I ask him baok I Ho said that I had acted wrong, And foolishly besides ; 1 won't forget him after that— I wouldn't If I died. If I was wrong what right had he To bo so cross with me ? 1 know I'm not an angel quite— I don't protend be. Ho had another sweetheart once, And now when we fall out, Ho always says she was not cross, Aud that she did not pout. It Is enough to vex a saint— • It’s more than 1 can bear; I wish that girl of his was— Well, I don’t, care whore. , Ho thinks that she was pretty, too— Was beautiful as good; I w/vnJ*'- IfKhft'd Again, now If she could 7 I know she would, and there she is— She lives almost in sight; And now lt*s almost nine o'clock— Perhaps he’s there to-night. I’d almost write to him to,come— But then I’ve said X won’t, 1 do not care so much, but she Shan't have him If I don’t. Besides, I know that I was wrong. And he was In the right ; I guess I'll tell him so—aud thou— I wish he’d como'to-nlght. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS. Capture of the Ganatourger Brothers—A Triple Execution at Grlltheim—The Mob Attach the Guillotine—Terrible Murder of Mr. Kuffer and Bla Clerk at Barlakron. .The small village of Grlllheim, near KarlsUron, In Southern Bavaria, a place of no importance whatever, is situated on the edge of a dense forest, and very sel dom visited by strangers. And yet this heretofore unknown place with its 1,500 Inhabitants, has of late called the atten tion or whole civilized Europe to Itself, for-the criminal records of the kingdom have shown that it has furnished fully 10 per cent, of the criminals In the State prisons. The publication of this fact by the minister of police was caused by the many applications which that official had received, praying to'pardon the three Ganswurger brothers, who were sen tenced to be beheaded on the-14th of last month. Their crimes were, however, so heinous that the king refused to interfere, and ordered the execution to take place on the appointed day. tjib 'three ganswdkoek brothers. Edward, Adolph and Carl, were respect ively thirty-one, twenty-seven and twen ty-one years of age. . On the 12th of last month the guillotine arrived In the vil lage, and .when it was lirat seen by the population, among whom the three criminals had great Ihilueneo, loud threats were made. As the mob, was constantly gaining in numbers, the sher iff dispatched a special messenger to the post commander at Karlskrou requesting troops to he sent on withoutdelay. They, arrived next day, and it was high time indeed-, for the mob had resolved to pre vent, the execution at all hazards. The cavalry succeeded in quieting the riot, but not until they had made free use of their sabres and Count Bosselmau had notified the rioters that he would order his men to ore If the king’s order was In terfered with. The sheriff fixed the hour lor the execution as early as possible, and It was precisely 5 o’clock when two companies of Uhlans rode up in front of the guillotine. The three de linquents were brought up by the sheriff, escorted by another company of cavalry. A wild yell greeted their appearance, and a rush was made toward them. It was with groat difficulty, and not until several of the mob had been wounded that the execution could be proceeded with. The three Ganswurgers were close ly watched by the sheriff and his assis tants, who, pointing their revolvers at the breasts of the wretched men, threat oaod to shoot them if they should make the slightest attempt to escape. TUB YOUNGER OF TUB THREE was then ordered forward, and whou bla head fell in the basket and his blood rushed over the planks, bis elder brother, Edward, commenced laughing and turn ing to the sheriff exclaimed: “You have the best of us now. But as brave as,the youngest of us died we-will die likewise." A few minutes afterward the three broth ers lay side by side in one great casket, and the corpses were taken toKarlakron, and turned over to the medical college. The three Ganswurger bad always been considered a reckless trio, but no one of the authorities ever suspected them of being the perpetrators of the MANY MURDERS AND OUTRAGES which hod been committed near Karl skrpn. They bad laid their plans so well and executed them so secretly, that the arduous labors of the authorities bad al ways proven a failure. It was well known to the authorities that Edward had a liason with a yound married wo man, until finally her husband’s atten tion was called to that fact. While Ed ward once tried to obtain admission he was confronted by Mr. Kufer, the unfor tunate husband of the unfaithful woman, and cooly told that If his faoe.was again seen near his (Mr. Kufer’s) house, the consequence would rest with the intru der. Ganswurger left the premises, ut tering a fearful oath and with murder In his heart. Ho narrated the encounter to bis two brothers, and in order to revenge this Insult, it was agreed upon to murder \Mr. K. and then set fire to the building. Two nights afterward the hellish deed was executed. The three brothers en tered the building by means of false keys, and with the knowledge Edward had obtained on former occasions, it was but too easy a task to find the bed room of Mr. Kufer. This gentlemen and his wife were, however, not in, and fully two hours elapsed before foot steps were heard. The rain poured down in torrents, and to make sure of their work the younger brother had used petroleum, and was only await ing his br&tbor’s order to light It. To the utter disappointment of the three murderers, the approaching party was not Mr. Kufer, but his clerk. ‘lt U ab solutely necessary to make him cold In order to quiet his tongue,’ said Adolph Ganswurger, and plunged a dagger Into the young man’s heart. Shortly after*- 1 ward Mr. Kufer came home, and whils VOL. 59-NO. 51. he was' likewise hurried Into eternity, his wife was told not to reveal the least, the petroleum was lit, and the murderers made good their escape. Some four days, afterward, Edward Ganswurger, against whom a warrant had been issued', was seen by a special detective entering his father’s house at Grlllholm. A posse of twelve officers was at once dispatched, and so com pletely surprised the entire family that no resistance at all was offered. The three brothers were Indicted for mur der, and upon the evidence of Mrs. Ku fer sentenced to be beheaded. The most remarkable feature of this trial was the confession of Edward Ganswurger. He boasted having killed seven persons alone, and was proud to say that his two brothers were'exeellent in that busi ness. SPEECH. OP EEPBESENI All VJS WILLIAMS . ON THE BORDER RAIDS bill, April 7, 1878., Mr. Williams said : The late rebellion and Its soenes are still fresh In the minds of all. It is unnecessary to call your at tention to or bring before you those ter rible conflicts of armed forces which oc curred on the different battle-fields,. You are lamlliar with them'all, and the num berless resting-places of the fallen dead, with their monuments, giving the name, date and battle-field, attest that the strife was a long and deadly one; that priceless sacrifices were made to preserve a free government—a government baptized in blood—and one which on Us Inception de clared that among the inalienable rights of men were life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But I will ask you to go with me for a short time, and look upon the beautiful Cumberland Valley and the surrounding counties In Juue, 1863, when the rebel legions, flushed with victory at Winchester,came with theirsleady march over vale bill and mountain. Before the exultant, defiant army of Geu’l Lee came the fleeing multitudes, who were escap ing with their property, to save U from the hands of the spoilers. Every road and avenue were filled with the fearstricken populace; some with their wagons, some with their horses, some with their cattle, some with their household goods, some with their merchandise, with which they had been trading, and some with their families, all rivaling each other to reach a place of many of them nev er reached their haven of rest. The swift advance of the rebel army inter cepted some of them and captured their horses, wagons and cattle, and allowed their wearied owners to pursue their jour ney on foot, amid dust, dismay and con fusion. But this is not all. After the fearful battle of Gettysburg what do we see? Could we but in one picture por tray the whole scene! Could we but bring all the border counties before you, showing the desolation, the destruction of property and of the homes where the loved ones were left; and more, coujd we but see the ghastly dead after Lee s re treat ffum Pennsylvania's soil. But wo cannot- We can only name in that fear ful picture a faw of the moat prominent points. We see persons returning to their home, to find the places where they once -were marked by a smouldering heap ox ashes. We dad, persona returning to see their fields of golden ripened siraln trod and threshed beneath tho rushing hosts of cavalry and artillery. We see persons returning to find their stock of merchan dise, which they were forced to leave be hind, either taken or else strewed by the bauds of the enemies before tbe winds of the heavens. Aud mingled with all this what a ghastly, dreadful sight of death meelsouranxl us gaze. Bad, sad indeed, to look upon. And even now It Is euffl . olent to bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened, and to those who weep, not. But we will not detain you with this sad picture. You bray have heard sufficient. From your own knowledge and from what you have heard we are satisfied you will admit.thatthei border counties of Pennsylvania suffered terri bly from tbe several invasions of the re bels-aud from our own troops during the war of the rebellion. Now, sir, if this Is so, the question is, should not the Goveromeut see that these losses are paid? I hold. sir. that if among the in alienable rights of men. are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, aud that if governments are Instituted to secure and preserve these rights, then we say that if the State is not able to protect these rights from every Interference by the Invader or armed forces, then she should uoujpouoßto hor clUboiib for tho loss. But you may say that life, liberty aud happiness are not property. This may be so. But we will ask what is life worth if we have no property at all ? Or, what It liberty if we have no right to ac cumulate property and be protected in its enjoyment? Or what is happiness if you have no home and dear loved-ones to make you happy? Sir, we hold that property is included In these rights, and without property, life, liberty and hap piness are only a name, a phantasy or a waif on the ocean of time. You must have property—a home to make Ufa plea eant—to make liberty a boon to beaought for. And the pleasures of homo and the enjoyment and use of property la tbe on ly true substantial happiness that this world In Itaelf can afford. Now, then If this Is the case, should not the State, as a matter of right, pay these claims? These people lost their property, their homes, from a cause from which they had no power to protect themael vea—except thro the State. The State was not able to do It. Hence the liability of the State for not so doing. The Government com pelled us to raise our required quota of men to fill up the ranke of the army, which wo did. The Government asked ns to pay tbe taxes assessed, which was also compiled with. Then, for this rea son, should not tho State protect the pro perty of tho people, on which they paid the taxes? Aud more than this—should not the State take oaro of the property of our people who were in the army fight ing the battles for the Union of the (States? But we may hear some one say that this should be the duty of the U. o. Government. This may be true, butwe, as tbe representatives of the people who have suffered, can only be heard here, and if the State of Pennsylvania should assume these claims, It would not be long before tho United States govern ment would see the propriety ef paying them. The United States Government is now and has been paying losses of loyal people of the Southern states, which occurred during the rebel non. and should they not pay tha losses of our people, who were all loyal. If our people suffered losses should they not be paid equally aa well as the loyal claim ants of the South ? No one representing the people of this State »h ioi - 00 Notices, ■ 800 mines, 7 00 ’llnoim- 1 lines consulate a squi seniors’ and Adm'rs’. liters' Notices, Ignoca* and similar N irly Cards, not oxceodl louncemonta flvo cent acted for by the year. Inoss and Special Notices, Twelve. For £xo< For Ami For Asal For Yeai For Ann less contra For Uubl porllne. Double o< column advoi .iaemeni greater lovo and devotlou to (bis great and glorious Uoioo of the States. But, sir, whilst this Is one of the objects, will wa not fail in impressing' this upon the minds of all the people—when we allow these claimants to go unpaid, and even turning them away empty? Will not the imputation go up from one end of the land to the other, that the' great Com monwealth of Pennsylvania wllPappro prlate one million of dollars to the Cen tennial for the purpose of having a glori fication and jubilee ou the hundredth anniversary of the independence of the States, whilst thousands of her citizens are refused the Just payment of their losses—incurred in a war for thejust pre servation of this Uulon ? Will not the imputation go further if these losses are not paid or provider! to be paid by the year 1876, that a free Democratic govern, ment Is a failure? That if a government is not able to protect property, life, liber ty and happiness, or compensate the peo ple for the loss by war or an invasion by armed force therein, that it does not an swer the purpose for which it is insti tuted, and that no Jubilee, however grand its character or great in its conceptions, will ever cause a people to respect ill power orpray devoutly for Us oontlnu- Ee neSf and dear to the people she must be just and honorable to the people. The State ought and will have to say to these people, •• You have lost your property and homes by war and invasion, and we are bound to compensate you for your losses. Then Will the people rise up from ail sec tions of the land, and bless the govern ment which Is over them, and pray for its continuance for all time. If this Is done, many who are now bowed down by the cares and oppressions .of poverty, will rise tip and rejoice in the sunlight of a free and Just government. Pass this bill, and our people will be able to de velop the great iron interests,of our bor der counties, and pour untold wealth into the coffers of all, and increase the reve nues of the State beyond computation. Pass this bill, and you will cause the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to be just to her people—whilst you will be adding to the revenues of the State by tbe increased "industries of her people• Yes, pass this bill, and you will have the approval of your consciences now, and for ail time to come. In addition, Mr. Speaker, I wish to say one word relative to some remarks made by the gentleman from Philadelphia, (Mr. Elliott) who al leged that there was a contract between tbe State and our people, when the ap propriation of three hundred thousaud dollars was made. What, sir, is a con tract 7 We are told by the authorities that it la an agreement to do or not to do a particular thing. It also requires for its creation at least to parties-one offer ing and the other assenting. Now, when those three hundred thousand dollars were appropriated, where did the money go ? To the town of Chambersburg. Not a dollar of it to the county of Franklin outside of Chambersburg. and not a dol lar of it to the suffering county of Cum berland. Yet some of our people had suf fered as severely as the people of Cham bersburg. If there was a contract, should not the people of Cumberland have been consulted ? Should they hot at least have received a pro rata share pf the money f If it was a contract it was not mado with them. The gentleman from Philadelphia (Mr. Elliott,) also said that the people ol Philadelphia suffered by the war. Sup pose they did. How? why, direct means. None of the citizens of Philadelphia suffered at the hands of the Invader and the spoiler; not a single dol lar’s worth of property was taken out or Philadelphia by a rebel foe ; not a home was laid waste there by the fire of a rebel incendiary. Their homes werpjpreaety ed. while the homes of the people of the border counties were destroyed. . xet, whenever we come with our appeals, wo are to be turned away empty. Wo are asked to give- a million dollars to the Centennial, but the people of the border counties are not to receive one dollar t We ask you if this la right ? Surely it is not. We ought to have Justice, and w ould have if .truth had any power. DELAWARE JUSTICE. How a Woman Was Punished for Murder in the Second Degree. At Newcastle, Delaware, on the 16th Inst., Mary E. Mateer (colored) was In dicted for the murder of her Infant son. The following were the facts: On Febru ary 11, of this year, the prisoner left the house of Mrs. Lewis about 9 a.m, . Taking - with her her child, a butcher-knife and a bucket, she went Into a garden attach ed to an unoccupied house near by, when she took the knife and out the throat of her son, then pushing It down as near aa she could Into this bucket, covered the body with some brush, and went over to the academy at Newark, to the residence of Mr. E. D. Porter, where she bad ob tained a place as a servant. She told them she had put the child to live with a stranger. The constable began search, and on February 26th found the body. He then arrested the mother, and took 'her before Janies H. Bay, Esq., J. P., when she made the above confession freely and voluntarily. She states os her reason for the act, that as the child was illegitimate and “not of her own color,” she hated him; ha was a disgrace to her, and she could not get a home, as no one would take her and her child. After eliciting the above facts the State rested. The defense did not offer any evidence. The Attorney-General then stated to the jury that from what ho knew of the case and all of the attendant circumstances, the State did not deem it necessary to ask .for a verdict of murder In the first degree as she stood indicted, but as, under a law of the State, they could render a verdict of murder in the second degree or manslaughter, the pros ecution would simply ask for a verdict of murder In the second degree. The de fense Joined in the same request. The Jury, without charge from the court, re tired at about 1 o’clock, and In about an hour returned a verdict In accordance with the request. This verdict was con curred In by all the members of the bar, and many prominent citizens who were cognizant of all the surroundings, who thought that the ends of justice were sat isfied. Much sympathy was felt for the unfortunate young woman. Notwithstanding this sympathy, how ever, the woman was on the following day sentenced to pay a fine of $5,000, costs of prosecution, to stand in the pillory one hour, to be whipped with sixty lash es, and to belmprlsoned for life. ■ The sentence took the people by sur prise, aa the Impression has been that tbs whipping of females was abolished some years ago.* A good many trades people only give ounces to the pound.— For instance some people In the sals of butter at market-it Is a weigh they have. Denvbu has a new hotel with bullet proof walls. If on can sit In perfect se curity, and listen to the shooting In the next roomi L 3 lOtlci ilng «l (Upor 10 oci*'j itfl OXI