SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor VOLUME XXIX, NUMBER 93.7 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING Officc in Northern Central Railroad Ccm pany's Building,north-west corner Front and Walnut streets. Terms of Subscription (One Copy per annum.i f puidut adennce 41 611 if not paid willusi three atonthsfrom cOultneueenten lel they cur, 200 4=4311t ISA za, No aubaeription received foe a le,. time than .ix months; and no paper tv.ll be di-continued mud all arrearagesare paid, unle4sat the optionof the puL aaher. .11 tOr . oneygrtay beremittedbym ail rtithepublish er,s risk. Rates of Advertising. aqtaare (6 liner) one weal, Ihree weeke each .uh=”queminsertion. 10 [l2n rte.] one week. 50 100 ii I=l Largeradvertisernenti.in proportion. A liberal di , conni will be grinde to quarterly, hall yearty or yearlyttlirertiscriz,who arc strlcill.confined (in their bu.iness. irttris. We too have our Autumns =I We, too, have autumns, when our leaves Dump looeely through the dampened air, When all our good seems bound It/ slivavc.A. And we stand reaped and bare Our seasons have no fixed reiurn., Wuhout our they CONIC and go; At noon our sudden summer burn:, tee sunset all is snow. But each (lay bring. , le'cc summer cheer, Crimps more our ineffectual riming, And something earlier every )enr Our singing birds take wing. As lens the olden glow atiiileg, And 10.. t the chillier heart 1,111[1,1 With drib-wood bleached in ]slot spring tides Ire light our ;Wien tires. By the pinchnd bruin We cower and .tram our n , i/N1 h To •tutelt youth's shroud up. sewn by ',IT In the long Arcue nOn. It was not so—SVC once v, err young-- When Sontag, to ‘voinuttly Suomi , r tut itimr, lire dew-clrop‘ ou each erne.-Llutlc strung. In the sunrt.e Int rut ag. We trusted, then, a , rotred, believed That earth could be re-made to-morrow,— Alt. w•hy be ever undeceived' Why give up faith for sorrow ' Oh, thou whose days are }et all spring, Trust, blighted once. to puqt teluetlllg; Experience is a dumb, dead tlarg; The . rictoo 'F. ill Good Night I= Good Night! I hove to any ChoodNO4ht To PLIPIi n host of peeress chuigy Good Night unto :hot snowy hood All queenly with iis weight 01 rings' Good :tight to fond. del irloil% eyes, Good night to clo•stri 11 braid.; of tour, Good night unto thn perfect tounth, And all the nomtnec4 ii,cgica th e re The snowy hand detains me, then I'll have to say '•Clood Night' aguitl. But there will echne a time, my love, When it I road our etas aright, I -hall not linger by thi. porch With my adieus —Till then, Good Night' You wish dint time were now? And 1: Yoo do not hlu•h to wi 41 You would hove Iduvbcd yoursc;l to death To own PO nivch a year ngo— Whut, both these .Ilowy hand,: air. 01 , 11 I'll hove to say -Good :trigln - upon'. previous state or existence, so natural was it to be in familiar amt almost affectionate communication with the woman whom be• - 1 fore be had loved afar off, as a page might rrom the Blhmt , e Nloothiv i sigh for a (tueen. gftrtti)l'lls. The Rivals; OR, TRY, WIIIRLCIG 01 um: And 'hue the whirlgig of time brings in ins nivengre —Twelfth Night. My friend Jameson, the lawyer, has fre quently whiled away an evening in relating incidents which occurred in his practice dur , ing, his residence in a Western State. On one occasion he gave a sketch of a criminal trial in which he was employed es counsel; the story, as developed in court and com pleted by one of the parties subsequently, made so indellible an impression on my mind that I am constrained to write down its leading features. At the same time. I must say, that, if I had heard it without a voucher for its authenticity, I should have regarded it as the most improbable of fic tions. But the observing reader will re member that:remarkable coincidences, and the signal triumph of the right, called poet ical justice, arc sometimes seen in actual life as well as in novels. The tale must begin in Sittvony. Carl Proch was an honest farmer, who tilled a small tract of crown land and thereby sup ported his aged mother. Faithful to his chi lies, ho had never a thought of discontent, but was willing to plod on in the way his father had gone before him. Filial affection however, did not so far engross him as to prevent his casting admiring glances on the lovely Latrine, daughter of old liauchen, the miller; and no wonder, for she was as fascinating a damsel as ever dazzled and per plexed a bashful lover. She had adtnirati.n enough, for to see leer was teloce her: many of the village youngsters had looked unut terable things as they mother at May feasts and holidays, but up to this titne she had se ceived no poetical epistles nor direct propo sals, and was as cheerful and heart-free as the birds that sang around her windows.— Her father was the traditional guardian of beauty, surly as the mastiff that watched his sacks of flour and his hoard of thalers; and though he dusted on his darling latrine, his heart to all the world beside seemed to be only a chip from one of his old mill stones. When Carl thought of the severe gray eyes that shot such glances at all lingering youths, the difficulty of winning the pretty heiress seemed to be quite enough, even with a field clear of rivals. But two other suitors now made advances, more or less openly, and poor Carl thought himself en tirely overshadowed. One was Schoenfeld, the most considerable farmer in the neigh borhood, a widower, with hair beginning to show threads of silver, and a fierce man withal, who was supposed to have once slain a rival, wearing thereafter a seam in his cheek as a souvenir of the encounter. The other was Hans Stolzcn, a carpenter, past thirty, a shrewd, well-to-do fellow, ith nearly a thousand. thalers saved from his earnings. Carl had never fought a duel,— and he had not saved so much as a thousand grosehen, to say nothing of thalers; he had only a manly figure, a cheery, open face, the freshness of onc-and-twenty, and a heart incapable of guile. Katrine was not long in discovering these excellencies, and, if his I boldness bad equalled his passion, she would have shown him how little she es teemed the pretensions of the proud land holder or the miserly carpenter. But he took it for granted that he was a fool to con tend against such odds, and. buttoning his Jacket tightly over his throbbing heart, toiled away in his little fields, thinking that the whole world had never contained so mis erable a man. 50 EMI Haus Stulzen was the first to propose.— He began by paying court to the jealou, Ibtuchen himself, set forth his property and his prospects, and asked to become his son in-law. The miller heard him, puffed long whiffs, and answered civilly, but without committing him-ailf. Ile was in no hurry to part with the only joy lie hd, and, as latrine was barely eighteen, he naturally tht . mght there would be time enough to con bider of her marriage hereafter. flans hardly expected rin, thing more decisive. and, as he had not been flatly refu.mi, came frequently to the house, and chatted with her father, while his eyes followed the viva cious latrine as she tripped about her house hold duties. But lions was perpetually kept at a distance; the humming-bird would never light upon the outstretched hand.— lie had not the wit to see that their natures had nothing in common, although he did know that latrine was utterly indifferent towards him, and after some months of hopeless pursuit he began to grow sullenly He Nras not long without an object EMU on which to vent his rage. One evening, ;is Latrine was returning homeward, she chanced to pass Carl's cot tage. Carl was loitering under a tree hard by, listening to the quick footstep to which his heart kept time. It was the coining of Foto to him, for he had made up his wind to tell her of the love that was consuming him. Two days before with tears on his bashful face, lie had confided all to his mother; and, at her suggestion, he lied now provided a little present by way of introduc tion. Katrina smiled sweetly es she ap proached, for, with a woman ' s quick eye, she had read his glances long before. His lips at first rebelled, but ho struggled out e salutation, nod, the ice once broken, he round, himself strangely unembarrassed.— lie breathed freely. It seemed to him that their relations nnlQt have been file: in some • "Stay, Katrina" he said,—"l hail nearly forgotten." lle ran hat•tily into the cottage, and soon returned with a covered basket.— "See, Katriuc, these white rabbitsl—are they not pretty."' "Oh, the little pets!" exclaimed Latrine. "Are they yours?" "Na, Katrinchen—that they were mine; now they are yours." "Thank . sou, Carl. I eLall love them dvarly. ' "For m - sake?" "For their own, Carl, certainly; fur 3-ours also,--a little." "Gond-bye, Bonny," said be. patting the bead of one of the rabbits. "Love your mistress; and, mind, little whitey, don't keep those long ears of yours for nothing; tell me if you ever hear anything about me." "Perhaps Carl had better come and hear for himself,—don't you think so, Bunny?" said latrine, taking the basket. The tone and manner said more than the words. Carl's pulses bounded; he seized her unresisting hand and covered it with kisses. "Sol this is the bashful young man!" thought Katrine. "I shall not need to en courage him nnv more, surely." The night was coaling on; Kr.trine re membered her father, and started toward the mill, whose broad arms could scarcely be seen through the twilight. Carl accompa vied her to the gate, and, after a furtive glance upward to the house-windows, bade her farewell.: with a kiss, and turned home ward, feeding himself a man for the first time in his life. Frau Porch had seen the pantomine through the Powers that !stood on the win dow-sill, not ill-pleased, and was waiting her son's return. An hour passel, and be did not come. Another hour, and she began to grow rinzions. When it was near mid night, she roused her nearest neighbor and asked him to go towards the mill and luok for Carl. An hour of terrible suspense en sued. It was worse than she had even feared. Carl lay by tho roadside, not far from the midi, insensible, covered with blood . moaning feebly at first, and afterwards si lent, if not breathless. Ghastly wounds covered his head, and his arms and shoul ders were livid with bruises. The neighbor. "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 11„ 1858. ing peasants surrounded the apparently life. less body, and listened with awe to the fren zied imprecations of Frau Proch upon the murderer of her son. "May he die in a for eign land," said she, lifting her withered hands to heaven, "without wife to nurse him or iiriet to speak peace to his soul!— May his body lie unburied, a prey fur wolves and vultures! May his inheritance pass into the hands of strangers, and his name perish from the earth!" They muttered their prayers, as they encountered the blood shot, but tearless eyes, and left her with her son. For a whole day and night he did not speak; then n violent brain fever actin, and he raved continually. He fancied himself put --ated by Hans Stolzen, and recoiled as from the blows of his staff. When this was reported, suspicion was directed at once to Stolzen as time criminal; but before an ar rest could be made, it was found that he had l ied. EL, disappearance confirmed the be lief of his guilt! In truth, it was the re jected suitor, who, in a fit of jealous rage, had wavl•aid his rival in the dark, beat him, and left hula fl,r dead. liatrine, rho hai always di-diked Stolzen, e4pctdallv al ce he had punmed her with his coane and awkward gallantry, now natu rally felt ft warracc affection for the victim of hiq brutality. She threw off all disguise. and nent tu Frau Proeh's cottage, to aid in nursing the invalid during his slow and painful recov Ty. She had, one day. the unsi,eakalde :I-ore of catching the first retur big sanity in her hap le,s lover, a , she bon over him and tt ith gentle lingers smooth' , lids knotted forehead and temple, tie now b"una them together; their mutual love Rll , now consecrated by suffering and sacrifice; and they vowed ti be faithfal in life and in - When Carl at length became strong and commenced labor. he hoped speedily to claim his betrothed, and was vaiting IL fa vorable opportunity to obtain her father's consent to their marriage. The scars we. a: the only evidence of the suffering he had endured. No hones had been hi hen, and he was as erect and as vigorous s before the a , tault. But Carl, most unfortunate of men, was not destined so soon, to en; -y the happiness for which he hoped—tho love that had called him-back to life. A, the' robber eagle sits on his cliff, waiting till vie hawk has seized the ling-dove then dart , down and heats off the captor, that he me v secure for himself the prize-so Sehoonfeld, not uninformed of what was going on, sto,;(1 ready to pounce upon the suitor ttho should gain Ratarine's favor, and sweep the last rival out of the way. An iffier in the king's service appeared in the village to draw the conscripts for the army, and the young men trembled like pennetbnp ii cop at the entrance of the blood-stained lintel not knowing who would he seized for the shambles. The officer hail appatently been a friend and companion ;,f Selo - el:fold's in former days, and passed sometime at his house, It was perhap , , only a eohmideoe 0, but it struck the neighbors as Nery odd at least, that Carl Proch was the first man drawn for the army. Iffe had no looney to hire a substitute, and there was no alterna the: he must serve his three years. This last blow was too much for his poor mother. Worn down by her constant assiduity in nursing, him: and overcome by the sense of utter desolation, she stink into her grave,' and was buried on the very day that Carl, with the other recruits, was marched off. What new torture the betrothed Katarino felt is not to be told. Three years were to her an eternity; and her imagination called up such visions of danger from wounds, p r i va tions, and disease, that she parted from her lover as though it we; c forever. The miller found that the light and melody (X I hi s hou s e were gone. Katarine was silent ' I find sorrowful; her fill:1;e wasted and her step grew feeble. To all his offers (of cons; &knee she made no reply, eacept to re mind him with tears the had besought his ; interference in Carl's behalf. She would not be comforted. The father little knew t h e f ee li ng s h e possessed; he had thought that her attachment to her rustic lover was only a girlish fancy, and that she would speedily forget hint: but now her despair ing look frightened him. To the neighbors who looked inquisitively as be sat by the mill-door smoking. he complained of the quality of his tobacco, towing that it inade his eyes so tender that they watered upon the slightest whiff. For six. months Schoenfeld wisely kept away; that period, lie thought, would he long cumuli - 1 to efface any recollection of the absent soldier. Then he presented himself and in his usual imperious way, offered his hand to Murillo. The miller was inclined to furor his suit. In wealth and positii.n Schee:lldd was first in the village: lie would I he n powcrfai nily. and a very disagreeable ei:ciny. In fact, Foviclien really feared to refuse the demand; and he plied his