American volunteer. (Carlisle [Pa.]) 1814-1909, June 05, 1873, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    The American Volunteer
■) * ■ BT ’
•Toliu B. Bratton.
Tebiw.—Two dollars por year if paid strictly
1b advance. Two 'Dollars and Fifty Cents If
paid within three months, after which Three
Dollars will be charged. Those terms will ho
rigidly adhered to*ln every Instance. No sub
scription discontinued until all arrearages are
paid, unless at the option of the Editor.
Oh, don't you remember the old hillside farm.
And tho farm house with clap-boards so gray,
With gardeiS of rosesand sweetplnks, and balm;
And the meadows with buttercups gay t
And don’t you remember how, in doors and out
And under tho old orchard trees,
The gay. laughing children were skipping about
With bare feet, os busy as boos?
How we all played together, the girls and the
And hadhouses and workshops and stores,
Hng babies and " oartbens,” and Just as much
As our voices could make out of doors 1
How wo loved through tho pastures and wood
land to roam,
To gather bright mosses and flowers I.
Wo thought then, os now, there was "no place
like homo,"
And no home bo delightful as ours.
And don’t you remember tho pleasant school
And the school house so sunny in Jane.
With the lessons we learned, “the mark" that
wo " toed,"
And how we played “plzen." at noon ?
our sunbonnets, crumpled, hung over our
I’iie summer wind played with our hair;
While tho sun paid our faces its warmest
.And kissed our white toes that went bare.
How we cllmbed'ttae steephlUsldes as nimble as
And skipped over tbe ledges In glee;
\Vo mimicked the woodlark and whlppoorwlll’a
And sung with the chlok-a-dee*deo ;
Wo waded-the brook when the water was low,
And shouted to make the woods ring,
or played on -its banks in the summer’s soft
Light-hearted ns birds on the wing.
You remember the pond where the geese used
to swim, '
How we called it tbe ocean so wide,
And In an old hat that was minus the brim
We nailed our rag dolls on its tide 7
And when they had cruised all the wide ocean
And outdone both Magellan and Cook,
We drew them all home in an old ragged shoe,
And called It a coach-ride they took.
How we danced In the mud with our bare, naked
feet, •
And played *' ’twaa the Dutch way to churn I
We made us mud biscuits and plumcakes so
Without any cook book to learn;
How we pitied tbe children whoso stockings and
■ shoes
Forbade them to shore In our fun 1
While we stirred up our puddings and pastries
and stews,
• And left them to cook In the sun.
Old Walter Kilborne died and left a
L-rtnno that aggregated nearly a million.
The gloomy old house which bad been
the family residence for many a year,
ln one of tbe down town streets
■ Imt hud once been the site of the faah
loiiuh e residences of New York city.
Hut* i * v *althy had long ago removed
to the MVHiiuea, leaving the perverse old
, niiiiiomiiiv to bold bis own among tbe
i> rowing i nslnees of the once aristocratic
thoroughfare. A bunch of black crape
Milt hunu on the bell knob, four days af
i. r the luneral, when a bent, wily-loob
iiii. mui, pulled it. Being, admitted, be
wu- shown into the dingy room Which
Mr. Kilhorne had in his life used as an,
. olttrn. Tins bent and wily-looking man
wut Lawyer Whitemore.
Ooud morning,’ said the lawyer, as
Ruin I, a grundcbild of the dead million
aire, u joung man who,showed plainly
enough ihe marks of rough social usage,
entered and extended bis band rather
■Gnod mm ulng,'was the reply. ‘Weil.’
■Win ?’ iM-lioad tha,lawyer.
■You (ini my note?'
•A-Kii.ji me to meet you here? Yee;
wlmi ilu you want? 1
•Ymi drew my grandfather’s will!’
•I did, two days before be died.’.
1 VVhai whie lie contents?’
'1 have on right to tell you,’ and Mr.
Whhemure Irled to look severe. ‘lt is
with the Surrogate now, and you will
know Ps contents on Thursday, when It
will In- officially opened. I couldn’t
think of violating my official—’
Not unless you are paid for It,' inter
rupted the young man. ’I understand
that perfectly well,and will be plain and
idlef with you. As you are aware, my
self and niy cousin Myra are the only
living relatives of my grandfather. We
have been brought up here In this house
together, and each hates the other as
much as possible. Now, I have no idea
how the property is left, and I want to
know. I am willing to pay for the knowl
edge In advance of the opening of the
will and you have it to sell.’
The lawyer assented with a cool nod
of his head..
‘Then name your price,' continued
'One thousao d dollars.’
*1 haven’t so much.’
'A note for a month will do.’
The document was quickly written
out, signed by the young man, and trans
ferred to the lawyer's pocket.
•The will,’ then said Mr. Whltemore,
‘ls a strange one—as strange as the man
who made It—but he would listen to no
advice, and I had nothing to do but carry
out Ida wishes. Ha leaves all his proper
ty to Myra Kllborne.’
■D u him 1’ hissed Robert.
■Hold,’ said the lawyer, ‘until you
hear the conditions. He leaves all bla
properly to Myra, ns I said before, on
condition that she shall Immediately
sign an agreement to, within a year, be
come your wife. If she shall decline to
fulfil this condition, the property belongs
to you. The only other point is, that In
case Myra is married to anybody before
the will is opened, she gets the property
the same as if she marries you. But that'
provision, of course Is of no consequence,
us she is uot likely to marry before day
after to-morrow, which will be the
Thursday on. which the document Is to
be opened.’
Here the lawyer stopped and looked
Into his companion’s face as if expecting
uu expression of displeasure. He was
disappointed, however, for Bobert seem
ed rather satisfied than otherwise.
'll pleases me well enough,’ he said,
■lor I half expected to be out off uncon
ditionally. You see, I've been rather
fast, and the old man disliked It, while
Myra's gentle ways and attention to bis
wants won his regard, tibe li complete
ly bound up In her lover, Harry Fenton,
who Is hundreds of miles away Just now,
and I don’t believe she would give him
up for the fortune a dozen times over.
Even If she should consent to marry mo,
I wouldn't bo so badly off with ihe prop
erty almost under my control.’
The lawyer here arose, bade hie un
scrupulous patron good day and went
out. But as he did so, had hia ears been
younger, he might, have caught the
sound of rustling skirts fleeing up the
stairway—thoso same skirts enveloping
the pretty form of Myra iCilborne, who
had heard every word of the interview
by listening at the door.
.'So, so,’ she mused, when she had
reached her own room and thrown her
self into the chair, 'I am to buy the for
tune by selling myself. I won't do it. I
would not give up Harry for iifty times
a million, Robert can take tbe money,
and much good may It do him.*.
'Vet, notwithstanding her conclusive
decision, Myra could not relinguish with
out a pang the which she bad
always looked forward as her certain
portion. Her grandfather bad always
seemed to regard her with affection, and
she had not dreamed that in bis will he
could impose such a distasteful restric
'lf Harry was only here,’ she thought,
‘there would not be any trouble, because
we could get married before Thursday.
What shall I do ? I wish 1 had somebody
to advise me. And I can have—a law
yer is what I want. They are up to all
sorts of tricks, so they say.’
Without a moment’s delay she dressed
herself for tbe street and went out. She
knew no lawyer, but walked until she
came to a building upon which she had
often noticed ah array of legal signs.
Passing up stairs, and selecting a name
from the lot that chanced to strike her
moat favorably, she entered a well fur
nished office. A middle aged man sat
alone writing at a desk.
‘ls Mr. Temple In ?’ asked Myra.
■Yes,’ said the man, looking up at bis
pretty visitor, and motioning her to take
a seat,’ 'that is ray name.’
'I have come for some legal advice
some advice on a matter of the greatest
importance to me, and—’
‘lf lam to aid you,’ said the lawyer,
kindly, 'ypu must epeak frankly and un
reservedly, which you may do in the ut
most confidence.’
Thus encouraged, Myra told him the
whole story of the will, the manner in
Which she bad obtained information, and
her feelings in the matter.
‘Of course,' she concluded, 'I want to
retain tbe fortune, but not at the price
stipulated In the will. Can you help
Mr. Temple sat for a while in deep
thought—so long in fact, that Myra got
fidgetty with waiting. At last bis face
brightened with an idea, and he at once
Imparted it to his fair client. For an
hour they were in close consultation.
That day and the next passed, and
Thursday came. The will was to bo read
in tbe Surrogate’s office ; at twelve
o’clock, a carriage drove up to the Kit
borne residence. In it were Mr. Temple
and two of bis intimate friends. Tbe
former alighted and entered tbe house,
lu a moment be reappeared with Myra.
She acted a little nervous, but seemed
reassured by the presence of the lawyer,
who helped her into tbe carriage, and
all were taken away. They proceeded
to the residence of a clergyman, where
they were evidently expected, as they
were shown promptly into tho parlor.
The reverend gentleman entered, and
the lawyer stepped forward with Myra.
'We are the couple, sir.’
The marriage ceremony of the .Episco
pal church was performed, a certificate
was made out, the two friends signed it
as witnesses, and the quartette were soon
again seated in the carriage.
‘Drive on to the Court House,’ said Mr.
Temple to the driver.
The Surrogate, the clerk, Robert.Kil
borne, Lawyer Whltemore, and a few
others, were in the Surrogate’s office
when the ‘wedding party,' returned,- It
was just twelve o’clock. The will was
read and Robert turned rather supercili
ously to Myra for her decision.
‘Will you sign this agreement to mar
ry me ?' he asked.
‘No,’she replied.
‘Then you resign the property to me?'
and a gleam of triumph shot from bis
‘That will provides,’ said Mr. Temple,
'that she shall take the fortuue If mar
ried at Its oppning. She Is married to
me, and here is the certificate. The cere
mony was performed an hour ago.’
On the same day proceedings were in
stituted by Mr. Temple on behalf of My
ra to obtain a- divorce for himself.
: ‘Abandonment’ was the ground. A few
days later Harry returned, and before
the day appointed for his marriage to
Myra ebo had obtained a,divorce from
Mr. Temple. The latter was one of the
jolliest of the guests.
‘lf It hadn’t been for you—' began the
grateful bride.
‘Stop 1’ Ipterrupted Mr. Temple. • I'm
to put It all in my bill. For the will
suit so many dollars; for the divorce
suit, so many more dollars—you see I’m
the one to be grateful after all.’
But no bill for legal services was ever
paid with a bettor grace.
A Pastor’s Reward.—That good,
faithful pastoral work ia appreciated in
Ohio, is illustrated by the following in
cident that occurred in Ironton. A re
vival preacher, who had won fame by
his power in the pulpit, came to Iron
ton for a week's work. He was very
zealous, preached every night, excited
considerable interest, and was vehe
ment in his exhortations to the un
renewed portion of the congregation to
come forward. On the last evening of
his labors be outdid himself, but not a
person came forward. Discouraged he
sat down; whereupon a grave-faced,
anxious looking man got up, and said
that the elder had been working hard
and laboring faithfully among them,
and as a token of their appreciation, he
moved that the congregation give him
three cheers I It was done right
heartily, and that contrite congrega
went quietly out and silently home,
satisfied (bat they had fully and faith
fully performed their duty.
An accommodating Newark man did
bis sutoide Job in the graveyard, a few
days ago. .
Qii.t frames—our jail windows.
the Meriwn iolunteer
One Sonny evening a party of trav
elers were seate d around a blazing fire
in n house .nving somewhat the ap
pearance of a Intel upon the Allegheny
mountains. Th« coach had broken
down, and we were detained until the
□ext morning.
We had just finisher. a substantial
supper and were’ sitting \fith our feet
on the fender, and cigars in o.r mouths,
ruminating upon the storm vithout,
and the warm, cozy comfort wlth'.n.
Each one told a story, or relateaan
anecdote; and at last' the turn cam,
round to a hollow cheeked individual,
who until then, had remained silent.
1 |Qentlemen,’ said he, fixing a pierc
ing grey eye upon one of the company
—a Spaniard who, uninvited, had
drawn his chair up to the fire, ‘some
ten years ago I was near being murder
ed in this very house.’
. At this moment the Spaniard got up,
and was going out of the room, when
the narrator rose, and looking the door,
put the key into his pocket. ■
: He then took the Spaniard’s arm, and
leading him up to an old picture, sur
mounted by the English coat of arms,
ran' his finger along tho motto, and
said, at the same time displaying the
butt ,of a revolver:
•Evil to him who evil does.’
The Spaniard smiled, and said he did
not feel well; but the stranger swore
that no man should leave the room un
til he finished his story.
Eequesting us not to be amazed at
his conduct.he proceeded.
‘Some years ago I was traveling
across the mountains on horseback, and
I stopped at this very house. The
landlord was extremely obsequious in
attending to my comfort; and after
supper he. requested me to join him in
a bottle of wine.
‘Nothing loth, I consented’; and be
fore midnight four empty bottles stood
upon the table, and ha was acquainted
with ail my business. I had a very
large amount of money in my valise,
and he politely Informed me that he
would take care of it till morning. Al
though somewhat Intoxicated I did not
approve of leaving it in his charge, and
wishing him good night, I took my va
lise in my hand and retired to bed.
‘After I had undressed, I put my re
volver under the pillow, and carefully,
as I thought, examined tbe room. I
laid myself down, and soon fell into the
arms of Morpheus.
‘I suppose it must have been two
hours after when I awoke, and collect
ing iny scattered senses, I endeavored
to think what I had been about.' Sud
denly I detected a noise under my bed.
‘What was my horror when I ob
served a piece of carpet stretched along
side the bed move aa if oooaothing yraa
under it. A cold perspiration started
from every pore; but, thank heaven, I
had presence of mind enough to pre
pare for tho worst.
•Grasping my revolver in my hand,
and hiding it under the bed clothes, I
feigned to be asleep. In an. instant
afterwards I saw, a trap door, which
had been concealed by the carpet, cau
tiously raised up ; and I beheld my
landlord, with a knife in one hand and
a dark lantern in the other, directing
his glittering .eye towards me. Still 1
moved not, but as ho turned to put the
lahtern on the floor, 1 fired, and ’
‘You killed him, did you ?’ shrieked
the Spaniard, almost jumping from his
‘Silence till I have finished,’ said the
stranger, again tapping his weapon.
‘The Instant I fired the villian fell. I
got up, and merely putting on my coat
snatched up the lantern he had drop
ped, and with my valise crept cautious
ly down to the stable. It was a bright,
moonlight night, and I soon saddled my
horse. I galloped about ten miles,
when I met a party of wagoners, and
in their company returned to the house;
but, despite of our rigid search, not
even as much as the villian’s body
could be found. But if I can lay my
hands upon him, if it costs me my life,
he shall die the death of a dog.’
As the stranger concluded, he rose
and caught the Spaniard by the throat,
and tearing open bis shirt collar, show
ed the mark of a wound on his heck.
Three weeks afterward Joseph Gom
ez. the Spaniard, was hung on his own
confession of having murdered no less
than five travelers in that same room.
A Thrilling Adventure.
The following is from a California
paper: Millie Coyau aged about ten
years, and daughter of George M. Coy
an, general manager of all the mines in
and about Lost Camp, was assisting
some of her younger sisters over the
sluice boxes, In the mine known as
Wood’s Ravine, when she missed her
footing and fell into the boxes, through
which was running at the time about
five hundred inches of water. She was
swept for a distance of sixteen hundred
feet through the sluices ns though she
bad been a feather. It appears that
she passed through the boxes in a sit
ting position, and daring her terrible
race tried repeatedly to rescue herself
from what in ninety-nine cases out of
one hundred would have proved fatal
to the strongest man. Even while
going at the rate of a railroad train the
girl exhibited presence of mind enough
to let her head fall back Into the water,
to escape a piece of wood that was
nailed over the boxes, and against
which, but for the precaution taken,
her brains would have been dashed out.
After being carried a distance of nine
hundred feet she was washed over a
“ dump," twelve feet high, falling into
another sluice box, seven hundred feet
long. Passing through the latter, she
was swept over another “ dump,”
twenty feet high, falling among rough,
Jagged rocks. Here she managed to
crawl out a few feet from under, the
heavy body of falling water, and was
shortly after rescued by Mr. Bartlett,
foreman ol the mine. It was found
that she sustained severe injuries on
the left knee, hip and side. Her face
was also scratched and swelled, but for
tunately neither will permanently dis
figure her.
"Light after darkness.
Gain alter loss.
Strength after Buffering,
Crown after cross.
Sweet after bitter,
Song after sigh.
Home after wandering,
Praise after cry.
.“Sheaves after sowing;
Sun after rain,
Sight after mystery,
Peace after pain.
Joy after sorrow,
Calm after blast,
Rest after weariness,
Sweet rest at last.
“Near after distant,
Gleam after gloom,
Love after loneliness,
Life alter tomb,
After long agony
Rapture of bliss!
Right whs tho pathway
Loading to this.
When I had opened the letter and read
a few lines, I exclaimed : ‘Oh, 'Jenks!
here's some great news for you. And
then I read from the letter :
‘My physician says I most have a dally
drive upon the beach, but I really do
not feel as if I should take a moment of
comfort without my old horse and oar
rlageandmyold driver. Ifyou can manage
to get along for two or three weeks with
the cook, who is. entirely capable to take
till the service of the house upon her
hands, you may send Jenks tome with
the horse and carriage. The road is very
heavy, however, and It is beat for him to
put everything on the Belle of Bradford,
and come with it himself. The Belle
touches every day at our wharf, and the
horse will be ready for service os soon as
he lands.’
I read this without looking at Jenks’
face, but when I finished I glanced at
him, expecting to see him radiant with
delight. I was therefore surprised to
hud him pale and trembling In every
fiber of his frame.
‘That’s just like an old woman,’said
Jenks. ‘How does she s’pose a horse is
going to sea? What's he to do when
, the steamer rolls ?’
'Oh, horses ate very fond of rolling,' I
said, laughing. ‘All he will have to do
will be to lie down and roil all the way,
without straining himself for it.’
'And bow does she s’pose a carriage is
going to keep right side up?’
‘Well you can sit In it and hold It
Jenks looked down upon his thin frame
and slender legs, and shook bis head. ‘lf
there’s anything that I bate,’ said he,
It’s a steamboat.
X think it will scare
the old horse to death. They whistle
and toot, and blow up and burn up. Now,
don’t you really think—candid, now —
that I’d better drive the old horse down 7
Don’t you think the property’ll be safer?
She never can get another horse like
him. She never’ll get a carriage that
OUila bar'half ao wol) ao Chat. It don’t
seem to me as If I could take the respon-
Blbillty of risking that property. She
left It in my hands. ‘Take good care of
the old horse, Jenks,’ was the last words
she said to me ; and now because she’s
an old woman, and doesn’t know any
better, she tells me to put him on a
steamboat, where he’s just as likely to be
banged about and have his riba broke in,
or be burned up or bibwed up, as be is to
get through alive. It seem’s to me the
old woman’s out of her head, and that I
ought to do j ust as she told me to do whpn
she was all right. ‘Take good care of the
old horse, Jenks,’ was the last words she
The old man was excited, but still pale,
and be stood waiting before mu with a
pitiful, pleading expression upon his
wizen features,
I shook my head. ‘l'm afraid we shall
be obliged to risk the property, Jenks,’ X
said. ‘Mrs. Sanderson is. very particu
lar, you know, about having all her or
ders obeyed to the letter. She will have
no one to blame but herself if the whole
establishment goes overboard, and if I
were you I wouldn’t miss this chance of
going to sea at her expense for any
Then Jenks resolutely unuertook to
bring his mind,to It. ‘How long will it
take?’ he inquired.
*Ob, three hours or so,’ I replied care
‘Do we go out of sight of land ?’
'No you sail down the river a few
miles, then you strike the ocean, and
just hug the shore until you get there,’ I
‘Yes, strike the ocean—hug the shore
—’ he mumbled to himself, looking down
and rubbing the bald spot on the top of
his head. 'Strike the ocean—hug the
shore. Three hours—oh I Do you know
, whether they have life-preservers on
that steamboat ?’
'Stacks of them,' I replied. I’ve seen
them often.’
‘Wouldn’t it bo a good plan td slip
one on to the horse’s neok when they
start? He’ll think It's a collar, and
won't be soared you know ; and if there
should happen to be any trouble it would
help to keep his nose up.’
'Capital plan,’ I responded.
‘What time do we start?'
'At eight o’clock to-morrow morn
ing.’ •
Jenks retired with the look and bear
ing of a man who bad been sentenced to
be' banged. He went brat to tbe stable,
and made all tbe necessary arrange
ments there, and late into tbe nlgbc I
beard him moving about bis room. I
presume be did not once close bis eyes
In sleep that night. I was exceedingly
amused by bis /nervousness, though I
would not Intimated to him that I bad
any doubt of his courage for the world.
He was astir at an early hour In tbe
morning; and breakfast was upon tbe
table, while yet tbe early birds were
‘You will have a lovely day, Jenks,’
I said, os he banded me my coffee.
As hbeut to set the cup beside my
plate, there came close to my ear a
curious crepitant rustle. ‘What have
you got about you, Jenks?’ I said.
He made a sickly attempt to smile,
and then pulling open tbe bosom of his
shirt, displayed a collapsed dry bladder,
with a goose quill in the neck ready
for its inflation.
'That’s a capital idea, Jenks,’ I said.
‘Do you think so? What do you
think of that?’ and ho showed me the
breast pocket of bis coat full of corks.
It was impossible for mo to restrain
my laughter any longer.
‘Number one, you know,’ said Jenks,
buttoning up his coat. ‘Number one,
and a stiff upper lip.’
‘You’re a brave old fellow, any way,
Jenks, and you’re going to have, the
best time you ever hud. I envy you.’
X rode down to the boat with him, to
make the arrangements for tbe ship
ment, and saw him and the establish
ment safely on board. The bottom of
the carriage was loaded with appli
ances for securing bis. personal safety
in case of an accident, including a bil
let of wood, which he assured mo was
to be used for blocking the wheels of
the carrirge in ease of a storm.
I bade him good-by at last, and wont
on shore, where I waited to see the
steamer wheel into the stream. The
last view I had of the old man, showed
that he had relieved himself of hatand
boots, and placed himself in light
swimming order. In'the place of the
former ho had tied a red bandana
handkerchief around his head, and for
the latter he had substituted slippers.—
Ho had entirely forgotten me and the
existence of such a town as Bradford.
Looking dreamily down the river, out
toward that mysterious sea, on which
bis childish imagination had dwelt so
long, and of which he stood in such
mortal fear, he passed out of sight.
Tho next evening I heard from him
in a characteristic letter. It was dated
at ‘The Glaids,’ and read thus:
“ Tfao Bell Is a noble vessel;
“ Tho horse ami currldgo Is saif.
“ She welcomed mo from tho sea.
It seems to mo I am la the moou,
“Once or twice shq roalod forofully.
‘‘But she riled ami drove on.
“I count nineteen distant sales.
“ If you will no so klud os to not mention the
“ Tho waves roll in and roro all night.
“Tho see Is a tremendous thing, and. tho atlas
Is nowhare.
“ From nn old Tart,
" Tiieophilus Jekics.”
.[From the Detroit Free Press.] -
An Encounter Under the Water.
John Quinn, the submarine diver
stationed at this port for the past six or
seven years, has been “ down among
the dead men” a great many times,
and has had some thrilling experiences,
but he was more frightened recently
than ever before in his life. The pipe
leading from the water-works into the
river, put down last fall, settled a short
time ago, and one of the joints opened.
Quinn was emyioyed to make repairs,
and he took his apparatus and attend
ants and went down. A great many
cords of stofae bad been piled on the
pipe to hold it down, and his work was
near the outer end of the pile. The
water was veay clear, and, as he landed
on the bottom, he noticed some object
leaning up against the stones, and sup
posed it to bo a log, and wont at his
work. The crevice in the joints was to
be filled up with wedges, and the diver
was about half an hour getting to work
with the bummer. He was working
away when a schooner’s yawl pulling
three oafs, and kicking up a swell,
passed near him. He felt the swell
somewhat -after a time, and was
straightening up after pounding away,
when something struck his head and
he felt himself embraced. He had no
thought of a corpse, and, when he
looked up, and found one right before
him, with one arm over his air-pipe,
he cried out in alarm, and moved back,
The corpse, that of a man moved after
him, and Quinn stumbled backwards
over the pipe, and went flat down,
with a horrid form on top of him.—
Those above felt that he was moving,
and gave him more line and pipe. He
pushed at the, body, and cleared him
self of it, but as he regained his feet, it
came down upon him, and one of its
legs rubbed across his shoulders. The
diver did not wish to fake hold of the
object, but .he was forced to, and he
pulled it about for several minutes be
fore he could clear his pipe. He pushed
it by the legs back to the stone pile,
and would have made his line fast and
sent it up, but the swell washed il
from his grasp, and the men above,
mistaking his signal, drew him up. He
went down again, and made a long
search for the body, but it had floated
away. Owing to his fright at first, and
his nervousness afterward, the diver
saw but little which might identify the
body. He was sure that there was a
gold ring on one of the Angers, and
that the man had on light boots, as he
had his hands on them. The body was
below all the inlet pipes when first dis
covered, and was either sitting or
standing against the stones, as one
would sit or stand to rest. While the
diver admits the fact of being frightens
ed, he says it was because he had no
idea of finding such a visitor down
there. The repairs to the pipe were
completed, and Quinn sent word along
the dock, that the body might be
watched for.
A Pennsylvania Girl Lost in the Wilderness
—Her Love of Hunting Stronger than Har
Lots of Home.
The Wheeling Register of tbe 20th
ist.,tells the following story on the au-
thority of Julia Messenger, of Wind
ridge, Green county, Pennsylvania, for
whose veracity It vouches:
“A man living near Wlndrldge, Green
county, Pennsylvania, bad born to him
five children, four girls and one boy. His
name is Daniel Lewis. When quite
young the and second daughter,
named Lufithda Lewis, developed quite
a fondness for bunting, and were out
nearly all tbe time, roaming the woods
in search of game. They seemed to de
light la nothing so muob us tbe full life
of a hunter, and would be gone from
borne for weeks at a time. After some
four or five years tbe boy quit it, and en
tered on the more industrious pursuits
of life, but tbe girl continued in the
chase. Drawing herself more and more
from human intercourse and restraint,
she bud become a wild woman, fleeing
from the approach of her kind with tbe
speed of a deer.
During the early years of her solitary
life she used to approach her father’s
house and entice the dogs to follow her,
learning almost any breed ot dogs to be
come good hunters, In tbe hope of
bringing her buck to her Jiome and to
civilization her brother followed her and
shot the dog she had taken away, using
every Inducement to get her to go back
with him. But all in vain.
For eighteen years, since abb was
twelve years of age, she bad lived, this
wild life, sleeping In tbe centres of straw
stacks during tbe night and biding in
them during the summer the wild and
cultivated fruits she intends for her win
ter’s store of provisions. She is now 30
years old, and is as wild as tbe most un
tamed denizen of tbo forest.'
Mr. Messenger says he at one time,
while out hunting, met her in her woods.
Her long black hair, covering her face
and eyes, was matted with burs and
leaves, and her black flashing eyes
made her a startling picture. She re
mained perfectly still until he got with
in twenty feet of her when she turned
and fled with the swiftness no man
could hope to rival.
A few days since she was seen again,
and then bad in her hand three pheas
ants and lour rabbits.but although these
encumbered her she eluded every at
tempt to capture her. She has been
so long in tbe woods that she has be
come perfectly wild. He dress is made
of tho skins of wild animals and a
blanket that she has taken somewhere
during some of her nocturnal predatory
The last Legislature passed a general
law amending and .consolidating the
various laws on .the statute book rela
tive to game. The first section prohib
its tho killing of wild elk or deer in the
State between the first day of Septem
ber and the first day of January, with
various other provisions relative to.
Then follow 37 other sections provid
that no person shall kill, offer for sale,
a hare or rabbit between the first day
of February and the first day of Octo
ber, under a penalty of $5 for each, one
killed, and rabbits shall not be hunted
with ferrets under a penalty of $lO for
each one so killed.
No person shall kill, or expose for
sale any gray, black or fox squirrel, be
tween the first day of January and the
first day of July, under a penalty of $5
for each-offence.
No person shall kill, or expose for sale,
any wild turkey between the first of
Januaryand the first of October under
penalty of $25
No person , shall kill, or expose for
sale, any, wild duck or goose with a
swivel or punt gun, or with any net,
instrument, or device, other than the
ordinary shot gun, under penalty of
■ No person, shall kill, or expose to
sale any upland or grass plover between
the first of January and the first of Au-
gust under penalty of $lO, or Wilson or
gray snip© botwoontho 20th' of April
and the first of September, under a like
penalt .
Np woodcock shall be killed or sold
between the first of January aud the
first of August, under penally of $lO.
No quail or Virginia partridge shall
he killed or sold between the first of
January and the first of November,
under penalty of $lO for each bird kill
ed or bad in possession;
No ruffed grouse, commonly called
pheasant, or pinnated grouse, common
ly called prairie chickens, shall be kill
ed or had in possession between the
first day of January and the first day of
September, under penalty of $lO for
each offence.
Bail or reed birds shall not be killed
or had in possession except in the
months of September, October and
November, under penalty of $5 for
each bird.
No person shall, at any time, within
this State, kill, trap or expose for sale,
or have unlawfully in his or her pos
session, after the same is killed, any
nighthawk, whipporwil, sparrow, lark,
thrush, finch, martin, chimney swai-
lows, barn swallows, woodpecker,
flicker, rohbin, oriole, red or cardinal
bird, cedar bird, tanager, cat bird, blue
bird, or any other insectivorous bird,
under a penalty of five dollars for each
bird trapped, exposed for sale or had
in possession. This section shall not
apply to any person who shall kill a
bird for scientific investigation or to
have stuffed.
No person shall rob or destroy the
eggs or nests of any wild bird, save
only those of such predatory birds ns
are destructive of game and insectivo
rous birds, under penalty of $lO for each
No person shall kill, eaten, or dis
charge any fire-arms at any wild
pigeon while on its nesting ground, or
in any .manner disturb such nesting
ground or the birds therein or discharge
any fire-arms within one-fourth of a
mile of such nesting place, at any wild
pigeon or pigeons, or shoot at, maim or
kilt them within their roostings, under
a penalty of $25.
No person shall trap, snare or net a
wild turkey, pheasant,, quail, wood
cock, rail or reed bird under penalty of
$lO, except when they are caught for
preservation over Winter.
Any person shooting or hunting on
Sunday shall be fined from $lO to $25.
No person or corporation shall throw
or deposit, or permit to be thrown or
deposited, any culm or coal dirt into or
upon any of the rivers, lakes, ponds or
streams of this State, under penalty of
$5O for each offence, in addition to
damages to individual owners or
lessees of such wafers.
No person shall catch spreckled trout
save only with hook and line, except
for breeding purposes, or place any sot
lines in waters inhabited by them, un
der penalty of $25 for each offence.
No person shall kill or expose to
sale, any salmon or spreckled trout,
save only during the months of April,
May, June and July, and the first fif
teen days of August, under penalty of
$lO for each salmon or trout. This pro
provision is not to prevent any person
from catching trout with not In waters
owned by himself to stock other wa
Lake trout or salmon shall not be
taken in October, November, Decem
ber, January and February under tho
penalty of $lO.
VOL. 59—HO, 52,
Any person trespassing on advertised
grounds for the purpose of taking fish
from any private pond, stream or
spring, shall be liable to the owner,
lessee or occupant in a penalty of $lOO
in addition to being guilty of trespass.
Any person placing a set net across
any of the canals, rivulets or creeks in
this State shall be liable to a penalty of
$25 for each offence.
No person shall place in any fresh
water stream, lake or pond, any lime
or other deleterious substance, or any
drug or medicated bait with intent to
Injure, poison or catch fish, nor place
in any pond, lake or stream, stocked
with or inhabited by salmon, trout,
bass, pickerel, sun fish or perch, any
drug or deleterious substance with in
tent to hill or catch fish, under a penal
ty of $5O, imprisonment not exceeding
three months, or both. ■
No person shall at any time catch, or
kill, with hook and line or scroll or ex
pose for sale, black bass or pickerel,
and only with hook and line, &c., from
the first day of March to the first day
of Juno, under a penalty "of $25.
No fishing shall be done in any of the
inland waters where trout or bass exist,
with nets having meshes less than
three inches.
. No fish shall bo caught by draining
of waters or by dragging nets or seines
when water is drawn off, except by
order of the State fishery commission
ers, under a penalty of $23.
Any person may sell or have in his
possession, pinnated grouse, ruffed
grouse, and quail, for a period of fifteen
days after the tinie limited for killing
them has expired, provided he. can
prove they were killed before the time
expired or were killed outside the lim
its of the State, at some place where it
was not unlawful to kill them.
Judges, Mayors, Burgesses, Alder
men, Justices of the Peace, and
magistrates are invested with full
power to enforce the provisions of the
law, and to issue warrants for the
arrest of any person or persons tempo
rarily residing-in their respective juris
dictions who may be believed to have
violated the law; and to.issue search
warrants, for the search of any house,
market, boat, car, or other building, in
Which there 1s probable cause for be
lieving game to be concealed during
any of the prohibited periods. It is
made the special duty of all constables
and police officers to diligently search
out and arrest all violators of this law
—said officers being competent witness
es to testify against persons having in
their possession game out of season; the
officer making information to receive
one half the penalty Imposed, the oth
half to go to the treasury of the county
or city in which the offence was com
Nothing in this act shall be construed
as to prevent the catching of bait fish
by means of hand nets or cast nets for
angling or scientific purposes.
Mk. Whgrry, Mr. Chairman : In the
discussion upon tbe article, reported by
tbe Committee on tbe Judiciary, I have,
I think, shown that modesty which Is
becoming a layman. So far as the mere
organization of tbe courts is concerned,
I have bad nothing to ssy. So far as tbe
questions, debated involved the honor
and the emoluments of the Judges or tbe
advantage of the attorneys, I have had
nothing to say. But whenever this sub
ject begins to touch the dear people, of
whom I am one, I desire to say a word.
I have listened m amazement to some of.
tbe vagaries in political science advanc
ed upon this floor in tbe discussion of
this judiciary article. We should be
forced to believe, if wo credited all-tbat
has been said upon this subject, that tbe
people have no concern whatever In the
establishment of the judiciary. Against
that idea I desire to protest. The estab
lishment of the judiciary, in my judg
ment, implies on tbe part of tbo people
three necessary conditions. In- tbe first
place, they must be willing to accept it.
The shoemaker works In vain Jf his cus
lomers cannot wear his boots, Bo will
this Convention have worked in. vain if
tbe people refuse to accept tbe judiciary
system (bat we establish for them. In the
second place, tbe people must te willing
to do what is necessary to maintain tbo
judiciary. If it be adopted, and be found
to work badly, they will not sustain it;
they will refuse to give it their moral
sanction and support. In tbo third
place, tbe people must be both willing
ami able to do all that which is neces
sary to make this judicial system per
form tbe purpose for which it baa been
organized. Could justice be Administered
in a court of justice if ail men were liars,
if your witnesses refused to testify, it
men wilfully perjured themselves, if Ju
ries gave verdicts contrary to the facts?
Isay that for the successful establish
ment of a judicial system, those three
conditions are requisite, and in my judg
meat, speaking as a layman, any judi
cial system, however fine Id theory it
may be, however perfect you may make
it in detail, which overlooks and ignores
these points of contact with the people,
must utterly fail of giving a wholesome
administration of justice. For, sir, how
ever It may conflict with the philosophy
and war with the prejudices of a class of
political teachers on this floor, in tbe ju
dicial department of the government,
equally with every other department, as
in mechanics, the power which keeps
the engine moving must be sought for
outside the machinery. That power,
operating through every department of
government, is tbo intelligence, the vir
tue, the moral sense, tbe innate love of
right and justice of the people. Judicial
machinery, judicial contrivances and
rules of court, can have no efficacy un
less sustained by tbe moral sanction and
political support of the people. The
goodness of an administration of justice
is in compound ratio of the worth of the
men composing tbo tribunal and the
worth of the public opinion which con •
trols them. A good system will not bo a
pure abstraction, It will not be an “ark
of covenant" that dare not be touched by
the hands of common men. It never can
be better and it never ought to be better
than the aggregate goodness of the men
composing it, and the men for whom it
is provided. But a good system brings
ail the moral worth of the community to
bear upon tbe administration of Justice,
and makes it operative upon the result.
Now to tbe immediate question under
consideration, I remark, in the first place,
that aa much of tbe business of our dis
trict courts id of that character that both
tbe facts and the law are to be decided
upon by the court It would be unwise,
not to say unsafe, to vest so much discre
tion In the person of one man. The right
of widows and orphans are to be sacred
ly preserved. Executors, administrators,
guardians, committees, trustee?, auditors,
viewers are to be appointed, and the court '
must pass upon the character and quail- i
lfntos~ot Advertl»id|fi
No.llmPaT»q7jaßq. Bnq. 4 Hf], jCiQQI
i week. $i ouha cbuo hoo itooflaob 923,00
3 " I CO 3 00 4TO 600 , 9 00 HCO ’2O 00
« '• 200 400 6001)00 11 00 'lO 00 'BO 00
4 “ 200 4 76 675 075 13 50 18 00 83 60
5 “ 300 550 060760140 U SO 00 .85 ,00
0 •• ‘ 8 GUI A6O 760 8601560 22 W 187 60
•2 months 4 (X) 7CO 86C 0 6017 60 23 00
3 •» .6 00 860 0.60 JO 60 30,00 30.00 60 CO
0 “ 76010001360 IG 0C 2m .1)0 W,QD 75 IU
1 yew »■ 12 00 16 00 20 4O w *75-00 100
For Ex©c
For Aud
For Abs!
For Yom
For Ami<
less contra
For Uusli
{fqca constitute a' Square.
kju tors’ and AxUn’fs’. Notices .. jo
iltors’ Notices, - 2 00
ilauocs’ and slhilloi Notices, 3 00
irly Cards, not exceeding six lines, 7 no
voted for by the yea*. , r : *■■ *
Incss and Special Notices. 10 con*
loliuon advoi.jscmeuts extra.
Hendons of each and every such dppoln
■ tee. Besides most, if pot all of these, are
required to give bond for the faithful per
formance of duty, and the court must
severally pass upon , the character and
lidaocial ability of the bondsman. Are
not these great powers Involving great
responsibilities? Would you leave them
to the uugulded judgment of one man?
Why, sir, it Is accounted a responsible of
fice to try causes, Instruct juries in the
application of law, administer Justice
with tho aid of counsel and jury; but
here, sir, is a power ten times greater
which some would leave depending up
on the will of a single judge. This, sir.
In effect,' would be but to establish a
court of chancery—a court in every way
repugnant to the wishes and feelings of
our citizens, and at variance with the
settled policy of our Mate. Associate
judges arc indispensable links between
tho court and the people. They give the
people confidence in the decisions. of the
court. They preserve the court from
falling into many and unintentional er
rors of judgment. They dlvlc/e the re
sponsibility of judgment with the presi
dent judge In case of great doubt or great
popular clamor, thereby relieving him of
much unjust odium. And, lastly, every
honest, God-fearing judge I ever knew
and talked with, wanted these associates
by bis side; wanted, if not their intel
lectual, at least their moral support ;
wahted their Intuitive seine of just ice as
a mirror in which ho might reflect the
Image of his purely mental or speculative
judgment. I move to amorfd the amend
ment of the gentleman from Allegheny,
by strickiug out the words “associate jud
ges are hereby abolished.”
Mu. Fulton. Mr. Chairman,; I had
desired, to offer an amendment or a sub
stitute for this section, bill I suppose it
would not be in orcler now. os an amend
ment to an amendment is now pend
1 agree with the delegate who sits at
my right,. (Mr. S. A. Purvianoe.) who
offered the original amendment, that
this a question of importance, and one
that we should approach with every
caution. During the entire history of
our Commonwealth one of the boasts of
tbe State of Pennsylvania has been ber
judiciary. Whilst charges have been
made against every other branch of our
government of impurity and corruption,
the judiciary of the Commonwealth has
always stood above suspicion ; and I say •
now that it should be. with great cure
that we would undertake to entirely rev
olutionize thejudiclary of Pennsylvania.
There are two aspects of this case that 1
desire to call tbe attention, of this com
mittee to. Tbe first is the effect that
this section would have upon tbe elec
tion of our judiciary.
I ask that wo all go back about a mouth
In the history of this convention, and re
call the discussion of the apportionment
of tbe .Legislature in this city, when It
was agreed here by common consent that
the representation of the city of Phila
delphia from the adoption of tbe amend
ment to the constitution in 1557, cutting
the city up into single districts, has gone
back every day; and ibis is the very
thing that is now proposed to be done
with the judiciary all over Pennsylva
nia ; to cut up our State into small judi
cial districts, and I ask you to answer
tbe question by this vote, whether if is
not tue uuiveraai-rule that tbe smaller
you make the districts for which,men
are elected to fill any position, tbe smaller
you- make the men that obtain tbe posi
It was said here the other day in dla ■
cussing this question in a rather different
form that If tbe section then under con
sideration was adopted, It would make
onr judiciary political; it would put po
litlcarjudges upon tbe bench. Now. will
it not have such an efleet to a far greater
extent than the section then under con
sideration, if you cut up Uie State into
counties of 25,000 or I.)0,000 as separate
jqfiiolal .districts ? If you look over tbe
cdffutles of the Commonwealth you will
find that there are not three conn ties
that are not so decidedly either Demo
cratic or Republican that all a man has
to do is to gel a nomination in tbe coun
ty, and if you cut up the districts to.that
size the very smallest-sized lawyer in tbe
Commonwealth will start and canvass
Uia county and secure the nomination,
and be elected judge. I ask gentlemen
to Consider whether this is not the very
thing that will put our local politicians
upon the bench '}'■■. ,
What effect will it have upon our
courts? It is urged by the gentleman
who introduced this amendment that it
will enable ua to have our business done
with dispatch. Suppose we retain our
districts as they are, and give them a
judge for say every 40,000 or 50,000 popu
lation in a district. Our districts are
formed of two, three and four counties
over the Commonwealth. My own dis
trict and the district of the gentleman
from Indiana (Mr. Clark) have been run
in here as an.argument. What would
the effect be there upon our courts if our
district was divided into throe districts,
each of the three counties in.the district
being large enough to come within tbe
provisions of this section? Every ten
years we have to elect a new Judge. It is
known to every gentlemen in this Con-
vention that when wo do elect a new
judge lu a district or a county, he is cho
sen from the members of the bar, and in
nineteen cases.out of twenty from the
members of the bar Id that county ; and
not only that, but he is taken from the
best practitioners, from among the lead
ing members of tbo bar. You put a man
upon the bench who is concerned, per
haps, in over one»third of the cases on
the docket in that county, and the busi
ness of that county is interrupted at every
term by cases coming.up in which your
judge Is concerned. He cannot try them,
uud you have to wait until such time us
you can borrow a judge from au adjoin
ing district to come in and Cry them.
Suppose we put judges enough on the
bench In that district to give u judge for
each county, what then? I think'two
would be amply sullicient to do tbe busi
ness of the counties in the district; and
oaeof the judges lived In my county and
the other in Indiana county, let them
change back and forward; they can try
each other’s cases without the slightest
inconvenience or interruption of the busi-
ness of the court. But again,, following
that same district still further, we find
that tbe county which I have the honor
to represent here has about Co,ooo popu
lation at this time, Wo find in that coun-
ty two hundred miles of railroad and
large coal operations, with some fifteen
or twenty large corporations there en-
gaged in mining coal. AU these are pro
vocatives to litigation, and the litigation
in our county is increasing every day.
Oo over to tbe adjoining county of Indi
ana, and you will find there about 30,000
population, an ugrlculturalcounty, I dare
say to-day, and not business enough to
keep a judge engaged one-fourth of hla
time. Within the next three years one
judge lu our county will not be able to
alieud tbe business of the county. A
judge in our neighboring county, now in
the same district, will be sluing there
three-fourths of his time Idle. Is there
any economy, la there any wisdom in
making such a change as this la our ju
dicial district at this time? Is it not
bettor to elect sufficient Judges lu the
districts whero they are, and to leave U
to the Legislature, as it has been, to
make such changes as from time to time
may become necessary?
Mr. Chairman, 1 hope that (his section
will not meet with the favor of this com-
mittee, because 1 fear that It would, have
the worst elleot upon the judiciary of our
Commonwealth of anything that this
Convention can do.
‘lp a man bequeathed you a hundred
dollars would you pray for him?’ asked
a Sunday-school teacher of a youngster.
‘No, I’d pray fur another like him.*
Can a 'gentleman who sees a lady
homo under an umbrella, bo fitly design
nated a rain-beau?