. . ... - . . - _ , . - - : " _ . ....._=, - .. . . - - , . ~. .. -- . . - - - . . . .- _ . , - . _ -... .- . . I' -- - , . . t • , . ~_ ~. ' r ..,• . . . . ~. .: _ . . _ . (-- ...,- . , •-„ ..' ~ . ..:. ii. . : : . -,:,.. , . ~ f , . . : - . . .. . . lb . . ~ . .. . . 11 . ' .' . . - . a . it- _ . • r . . - - •• . : .1 . li tj . . ...' ." . . :. - - .‘ p.. ~... ~ :,..: . r. ' -- 4111 1: -. - .1 -11 , ' ' ..' . . ..„..,• ...• • • El 43AXITAIP9,IGHT, Editor and. Proprietor: Vttlf3ll XXX, NUMBEI NATURDiI lORNING Qiite"e7i:Veirpet Hall, North-west corner of -.Front and Locust streets. Ter ma of übseription. ritiboV9peruncom tf pakain advauce. • • tf not paid , within three -moutliarromeommeneementalThe year, 200 -4. C74mtisi . olosubseripilon received fora les. time than six :<o -nibs; audit° paper will be di.coneadcd" waif: ell awmanivagesare paid,ualessat the optionof the pub ' frir;tfeary.icilbe•e raittedb y mail a n hepablisb ktr , a raft. Rates of Advertising A squarti6'ames3one week, three weeks, . _ etre.h+uhsegeentinsertion, 10 [l2 ines]oneweek. El three weeks, 1. 1 117 .{t' each4uh4equenlinsertlon. 20 _ . . ... ttargeridvertisementqn propoition A liberagliecouni will be made to quarterly,half early onrearlytdvertisers,arbo are strietlyeonfined °their bwrieess. U. AI ruler KU Lub:lo., oleo, Glenn's Double Extruc 1., for the handkerchief, at HARRY GRETA'S. Oppoft he Colt, Mktg, From 31=2 .1111 EL -4100 .Doz. Brooms, at Wholesale . I Lt.ii. at 11. IPA H I.IKIVS. Dee. 12. 1ti.57. Locu‘t weet. SINE'S Coarpaaad of Syrup .ot Tar, Wild Cherry and thiarlicitind, for the rise of Cough, Cold.. Whooping Cough; Croup://e. VoT 'tide at AIcIUORILLE Family Medicine- Store, Odd Fenown' Liuli October 23. I rind. ratent Steam Was*Boilers. 111 /*LB well known Boilers nre kept eolnonntly on hatsdot UI NItI PFA111.1.30-2, 44m0/a street, opposite the Franklin House ColumblG. duly IS, i9, 19:57. nets for sate by the bushel or larger gaan c y B. F. APPOLD. Colutab. .Dee la. 1859. Camil Bain TOBACCO awl Stgars of the best brands. w•uole.ule uud retail, at !t, cell cola rated Vegetohle Cattle " Powder. and for xale by IVILLIA%IS, Frau! sterol. Columbia. Sept. 17, 1859 Soap. n ellexes of Duffey Brown Soap on hand and for Z ...le low ui the corner ot Thard and Union StS. 1n.9 :Suffer no longer with Corns. 111' th lioiden Nlortar Drug More you can procure an urtice which.is warranted to remove Corns in .4 , hours, without pain or soreness. Ply Paper. I se PERMII article any Paper, for the de.true. 1 11011 of Files, &c.. ha. ju,..t Leen received at the Itrug . ItOrt. of It WILLIAMS, Front street. t•olumbia.July 30.1859. Harrison's Columbian Ink superior nnicle, permanent lc black. •orrobeig the Rea, can be had in flits Zilliolllly.lll she Family Medicine Snore, and blacLer srt ihaa ElighAb Boot Polish. Columbia. Joon 9. 141.59 On Hand. itl(r It'4. WINSLOW'S tibicahnig Syrup, which will .1.11 greial) facilitate the proeers of teething by re ouring riationation. allaying pain, spa-mottle action. ike., in very short tlme. For sale by IL WILLIA us, 5epi.17.1559. , .F.rolit street, Colombia. EDDING & CO'S Russia Salve! This a il iremely popular remedy tin the cure of external ailments 15 now ter cute by IL WILLIAMS. Front al., Columbia. ~41.94, 1959. (,ALT by the Sack or Bushel, and Potatoes o emit.. or etna I t quuottttee,for eale of the Corner o. hMi.d Hod Union Qtreets. Jou. H. '59 12R % . N 1. (; , 1 , 1 t ...A . N t NI Ex i r ructb si t tr ., l il t ig;4l . l t e4 .. e r :irti N' te P ;P . (Irpnaite Coln. I.3ridge. 11,1:ntit CISTERN PUMPS. dlr. subscriber luresa large stuck of Ci-iern Pump -5 met Rnm.. to which he calls the, anent ion of the r ub- .bwalxur/ prepared to put them up for use In is costaritiz.;:oinner. 11. PFT Lawns, .trees 1 . 557 FANCY TOILET SOAPS. rimy. f Pitney Toilet Swill., ever J. out-red to Cowin:nun.. at . . !MARV GREEN'S. Feb 19.'59 Oppo.ite Cola. trrlage,Xroet St fir - n.(1(0; E ATER by,the pint, quart or gallon F/ Munn'. blisrstrin tor the Inindkerrlnef by shr ounce or pound, or its any qautstli!, to purchuntest HAIRY GRICIS:e., •t I Feb 10 Tnit. Opor,site Cola. Ikon, Foos: Just Itecelvect.gtud For,Sale, `SOO 1 1 11 :0 1 :1 . r; " :; . : Tt.7.1.. P ftrl.ut , F t.". 7 1 1, ; ) ; ,Aitt huu. Ground Alum Salt. .8.,P. APP(ThD I No • I and4tanul Ain rel. 26,'29 T ENKIN'S Celebrated .Black and ,Creerreax, Ity linker'. Cocoa Lind I.3aCOtate, 111 Corner of Third nod UlllOll •t rect.. (Nov. 20.'55. or,Bondit flagon Crackers, for and Arrow Root Crizelwr4, for in .velid• *mid ehliciten—new *titmice ta Columbia, at ,the Family Medicine Store, Ann' 16, 18:19 NEW CROP SEEDLESS RAISINS. , T IIIE best for Pies, Pudding, Lc —i.if , :vvr i p A pz,:t Qroe•ry Store, Corner Frontand U/HOll stn. Nov. 19 ,1849. Seedless Itaisins! LOS Of very choice eeetlie.. R..is us, just rcceive~ . 4 Nov. 19, W. Grocery More. No. 71. Locust I. sO4.KEtt CORN JUST received, a first . rale lot of Shaker Corn 11. SilY DA M'S tracery Siore.eoprier F.Tont and Union Nov. SO, 1£159 .-QPILDING'S PREPARED DIJJR,—The want of L , such an nylon es felt masonry family. and now it can be *mooned; for mending futnilure, china. arare,orruimental week. toys &e there le no th ing . a u pedor. We have found n useful in repairing tunny stitielos arbirb hove been useleaa for wombs. You can obtain it at the JantS: - FAMILY MIMICINE STORE. amity BRONCHIAL TROCHRL—We have been selling the above Cough Loges at the amity Medicine Store all wittier, and they have given general,sailafaellan JO all that have used them. The Rev, Henry Ward Beecher says.Kl far as he has had an opponuilty of comparison Brown's Troches are pre-eminently the first of the great Lots-nee /School. FOB THE HlLL —Barnett' Copular:, arum the . oeo2llol OK. for preserving and beautifying . ibe tw.r.und rendering it dark and along' Pimlon'a Conic! Phalan'a Code! Pitalon'a Conic! Well: Oil of Roses. Mrs 8. Alirtee Zilnbal•emam and Hair Restorer. at thr Family hiedleine Store. Jan. 29. JUST real)* pa additional lot of the best and late.' iteproyst4 Kerosene Lamps of amnion. patterns end size, Also, a fresh *apply of the real g*motne Coat Oil to bore id the above lampm all of which ode be bought et the Drag Store of R Wil liam* as cheap if not cheaper than at any otiv es tahti•hment in the place. DIARIES, DIARIES, DIARIES. Tv A RIF.3 for 11360, In every style, and a; prices from 40 cm. to ;a atsi each. Call and examine them • sarLoa p.IIIcDONAL.D. Colombia Dec.ll7 19.56. • • 'DATER LHIPSi—We have 'last Jectived a •ar suaeraneot of the lateit patent. Kem.ene, pr Cost Oil Lamp., to which we invite the etleett en of thwe ori.blog to porcine.: a good lamp, that only yoneutnee a hell ccot's worth per boar. 18. occd.crr CO. • • %men Mortar Drug Store, Front at.'.lColontota. •D0e..*1859. ERE VI 50 It has been, with me, a favorite thought through life that the facully- of othyervation constitutes one of the most conspicuous dif ferences between man and man. There are people—and an astonishing number too— W'ho seem to march from the cradle to the grave with eyes for nothing but the dull routine of money-making existence—is if this world of sorrow and joy, of heroism and suffering, were nothing but a vast counting-house, hospital, or bar. Others there are whose searching glance among men and things but little escapes: who pur sue nature, interne.rand external, as a book; and while gathering delight frees the bright er pages It presents, draw a melancholy interest from the darker and more reptikive. ft has been said that fur those who care to read it, every man, even the most prosaic, has a history; that there is no spot of earth so hidden, no condition so obscure, but there are passion, resolve, and diving, and all the elements of the wildest romance. And it is true. Mil Such fancies as those invariably occur to me wken I think of my late revered friend A—, fiir many years resident physician of the .D— county lunatics+slum. Though different avocations in life bad kept us long and widely apart, we each cherished warm recolleetions of the days when we shared the Same Una at school and college. stood by each otherle the trials, and encouraged each other in all the gayeties oryouth; and never was there any cessation to out more than fraternal correspondence. It was, therefore, with feelings of no ordinary plea• sure that in the summer of 1854 I threw aside briefs, commentaries, precedents, and all the weary paraphernalias of my trade. and turning my back on the crushing excite ment of London life, started for his home in the Green Isle, and an oft projected ram ble in Killarne,y. I had arranged to arrive at D— in the evening, by the afternoon• train from Dub fin, and he had agreed to meet me there and drive me over to his place next day, through twenty miles of as romantic a road as Ire land could bbast. And sure enough; on va eating my carriage the frst' thing I saw was A--'s kindly face, little changed since our last meeting; the first thing I felt, the warm grasp of his honest hand. Old sto ries of by-gone days, inquiries and 'remem brances of old churns, some high in the world, some figlitirig in distant lands, some gone on their last journey—these paade the hours pass with unnoticed' swiftness, arid daylight peeped through.the shutters ere we sought our pillows. 111111130 Punctual to a seoond after breakfast A—'s gig drew up at the door, the sleek bay mare champing the bit with eugerness to be off. A smile; a nod, and "God bless your honors!" from Shanrus, and we rattled down the High street. I can imagine few things more calculated to raise the spirits than the conjunction of a light gig, a high-stepping mare, a breezy morning, and an endeared companion. Add to this a road winding through scenery the most varied and lovely, and you may have some idea of my sen-rations as we bowled along at the rate of twelve miles an hour. Sometimes the craving beeches on either side formed a grove that threw deep shadow on the path, broken here and there with streak , and dots of sunshine; anon they gave place to scented hawthorn hedges, whose perfume mingled deliciously with that of the new mown hay. Now we would draw rein on some ivy and moss-grown bridge, and peer down at the woodland stream gushing in silver over the rocks, or swirling in deep, clear, brown thane, *-hero the trout were gliding from covert to covert, or springing into the air after the heedless flies. Then again we would pause at some open spot to gaze on the woods spread nut before us, and mark the far-off river breaking, like a thread of light, from some cleft in the blue hills. Fro= time to time, as we went on. I had opportunities of remarking A—'e old faculty at which I have hinted above. Nut an object did we pass, village or hamlet. bill or stream, bat it recalled some associa tion to his mind, and became the theme of some story or reflection. But this above all with regsfd to theyeople. Every one who went by seent: I know hit= whether it was Patrick, in his corduroys, with the "dudecn" stuck in his hat-bind, or Kathleen with bar jimp waist, blue eye, and bare ankle, he had a: word for each and some thing to say about all. At length I turned to him with the remark: "I see, Miry, it's still the old story; you will mix yourself up in the concerns of those about you. At school you had all our his tories'rat your finger-ends, and 'managed to see heroes, oppressors, victims, and so forth, where I could discern nothing but common place, everyday boys." "Yes," he said, thoughtfully, laying the whip on 'Betty's neck, "you're about right. This mixing myself up, as you call it, with the affairs °Abase around me, has been my way through life. I do it, perhaps, Unison scionely. And, sooth to say, my present position gives me wondrous temptations.— You, with your London notions, will think this unlikely, buried as I am in this quiet Arcadia, where the stir and shock of great cities are forever unknown. But even among these simple peasants—setting aside gratztiono: A Physician's Story "NO ENTERTAtNMENT IS SO OILEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA. SATURDAY HORNING, APRIL 14, 1860 j their legends and traditions—:-save gath ered more than•one incipient romance; and speaking frnin a Inifears and non-profession al point of view. the annals of the establish ment I serve have furnished me with many a sad rase. Fsr instance, here we are at Cloughnagatinabi whose natives I know to a child,•as well I may, seeing I ushered most of them into this changefal scene.— Well, you see those ivn cottage+ on the out skirts—mark them as we gn by." "Good day to ye. doctor!" "God bless your honor!" "God save you kindly!" and similar salutations poured thick and fast on us from everliiiidr"and window in Cloughnaganna; but I paid little attention to them, beingflio intent on the houses of which A— had spoken. And tru y without any such allu sion, there was that about them that would have struck the most careless wayfarer.— They were two structures of rough stone. standing one on each side of the mountain road, and resembling our own cotters' dvrelliiigs of the better sort, in having a roomy upper story, whose 'quaint gabled windows stood out from the thatched roof. Behind each stretched a hedge-bound or :chard of considerable extent, and everything betokened them to have been once inhabited by people of nu small importance in Clough naganna. I say once, for they now exhibi ted-nothing but the most miserable de,olit tion and decay. Rank weeds and tall grass choked up-the gardens, sprung forth in green tufts from the walls, and covered thickly the thatched roofs. Not a single pane of glass remained in the broken window frames; the shutters were cracked in wide fissures; the doors had long since fallen from their hinges. They would have been more in keeping with the wind and rain of some dark winter's eve; bathed now in the golden sunshine, there was something hid. eously mocking in their aspect, and gazing at them I fell into - a fit of sombre musing. "Two years ago," said A—, marking my abstraction, "they werent the ruins you see. Shall I tell you of their better day.?" I nodded, and- reducing Betty's pace, sorely against her will, to a gentle trot, he' cumin ued: "Eight years since I was, as you know, settled down here the sole medical man in the district, and, consequently, would have had a first-rate practice, were it not far the preposterous degree of health that prevails in these parts. For the same reason I had always more or less time on my hands, and being neither a spo, tsma t nor a student, it was mostly spent in the old way. I forget how long it was—nor =toy months at any rate—before I know every man, woman and child for miles round. If I saw Pat un the road I strolled along with him; if an open door presented itself, I walked in, dispos sessed the old sow of the seat of bumf, com plimented the mother on her gossuuns, and Katie on her black eyes, took a thimble full of the 'rule Innisbuwen,' without particu larly asking' where it came from; and was a universal favorite. And fur once that I went anywhere else I was five times at those very cuttages you saw just now in the dark ness o. desolation. Yes, George," he con tinued, in a thou - guile! tone, "inany's the happy day I've spent there with laughing /Wide May, the 'Lady of the Dark Grits,' as I used to call her, in contrast to her blue eyed cousin Mary. I lived but a lung mile from Cloughnaganna, over the hill-top yon der, mid I would go over in the still summer evenings, awl hear her sing the sweet bad ' lads of her country so exquisitely that the tunes chimed again in my ears as I strolled home in the moonlight: Yes, it's strange to me to look on what is, and tbini on least! has been. When I first came'here, there were not, with the exception of Father Con. nell's and tray own, two prettier ur inure as piring edifices than those of Nell Carey and James Reilly, respectively the smith and carpenter of Cluuglinagannah. Nell's was the one you looked at, with the little porch where the honeysuckle still shows. lie was an old man with gray hairs oven when I first knew him, but erect and putiterful as became one who bad worn the king's cloth. When his anvil had ceased to ring and lie' was 'cleaned' fur the night, there was about I him a rough sort of dignity that would have befitted a loftier station, but nothing upd pro:telling to austerity. No man loved a joke better than Nell Carey, unless it was his neighbor the carpenter: and, though the distance between their shops kept theta apart during the day, work being over they I were inseparable. But other and dearer ties connected the households. Both men were widowers, but Nell had two sons, and Reilly a daughter, blue-eyed Mary, and a neico—Aileio of the dark orbs. The girls were pretty, 'Maio strikingly so; the youths brave and suseeptible. Matters being thus the inevitable results followed. Brian Ca rey, the older, had long wooed Mary Reilly, while Phil was over head and ears in love with Ailsie May. "Well, for a year after I settled down here the course of true love ran smooth; they billed and cooed as young things will, and often did I return home with a heart lightened by the sight of so much happiness. One evening—it was just about this time of the year—l lighted my pipe and strolled over to Reilly's domicile. I opened the lit tle gate and turned into the garden. Seated round ander an apple tree were Mary, her father, and the two alder Careys. Some thing had happened, each cue looked sad der than the other, and Mary's eyes were red as with sore crying. Reilly put a let ter into my band, and T soon understood the s..rrow on reading that Allele was to go. I thould tell you that some years previously her p.. rents had emigrated in groat poverty thankfully leaving their child with Mary and her rither: Since then but few lettere had cone from them, and these spoke only of hardship mid toil, so that gradually the poor thing had got to look on the cottage as her home, and•had, so to - spetik,-wound her heart-strings around it. Now came this sheet, detailing unexpected prosperity, and demanding her immediate return to them. It named the day of her departure, and the ship by which she was to sail, and enclosed money fur the voyage and outfit. "In this crisis I perceived that my opin ion was looked ftir;ttna after some rettec• tion could see n thing to preven.t that opin ion being as favorable as possible. "'Where's Filar-I-asked,- " 'Sure, where w,uld he be, doctor, bit away comfortin' the poor thing?' " 'And he's right,' I answered; 'and you might all be doing the same, instead of hanging your heads this way, and Mary there - spoiling-her pretty faco,with teare— I recommen led that, instead of Ailsio a letter should be desratehed to America, lay ing the matter fully and unreseevedlrbefore her parents, detailing the prospect of the young couple, and the inducements Ailsie had to- remain in her own country,- And, in the event of their star' objecting to this I suggested that Phil and Ailsio should go out together as man and wife. "So this advice was acted on. and-once More things looked cheerful in thecottngee of Clonghnagannah. In the hope of favorable tidings from across the ocean, the momenta ry alarm was forgotten, the chains of love drawn closer and closer. Autumn passed into winter, stud many'st-night we gathered round the roaring peat fire; the ynang peo ' ple Seeing in each other's eyes visions of fu ture happiness. But during these winter nights by the fireside the ship that took out the letter had breasted the waves of the At lantie, and the one that bore back the reply was speeding swiftly home. It arrived soon enough—Phil brouglit it over to me ono morning early in the year. He was so hag gard and broken down', I scarcely knew him. do was a terrible blow for e.ll--it crushed their every hope in a way they had never dreamt of. Like her uncle, Ailsie's parents were Catholics; while the Carey's people professed the Protestant faith. This differ ence of' corrviction had never in the least in terrupted the close intercourse of the neigh b irs; but tke emigrants were bigoted to the la .t degree. This letter, then, commanding her to sail immediately, directed her to break off the engagement, reproached Reil ly bitterly for suffering it to exist, nod de clared that in the event of a marriage her father's curse would be her only portion. "After reading this hopeless letterrlooked up and saw poor Phil's burning oyes fixed upon me without a single word' to say—not a whisper of consolation to give him. I could but ask him what he was &dog- to du; be burst out into a torrent of passionate grief and indignation. He would see Ailsie May no more: he had bidden her a heart broken farewell. Them that's done it,' ha raid, 'let GA thra , i-e them! I'll never take tho girl like a thafe and a rubber!' " 'You must bear this like a man, Phil• "'Them wards is any spoken, doctor; but it's bitter to do, sir. I will try and boar it like a man, but not yonder—that's not in flesh and blood. I've male up my mind to go to say.' "'For God's sake, Philip!' I cried, 'do not bring sorrow on your father's gray hairs by any rash net!' "'lt'll be the best for all, sir, he answered I've slept on it and it'll he the best for all. And now. sir, if you'll kindly go over to night and break it to theta, it woull make my mind a trifle easier.' "booth to say, my own sentiments on the matter were nearly in accordance with his. I felt unable to to Onr any opposition to his plan. My offer of help he firmly but mod estly refused. Tle ,;lass I poured out for him he just tactu d. wrung my hood fervent ly, and then stepped :Lamy down the Itill in the direction lending from his home. I went over that n.gnt to Cloughnai„annah; but it was nut till a fortnight afterwards, when Ailsie was away. that the truth came out. There was so much misery in that fortnight. that / felt unable to add one more drop to the bitter cup, as I told them that till it was over Phil had withdrawn near "Poor Ailsis might have been a stone statue, so little consciousness did she exhibit of the preparations for her departure. Nor very food she took, as it were, mechanically; the fountains of life seemed dried up within her, and Ma y, sore as was her own grief, bad to prepare everything, down to the most minute particulars. "The day came. Allele was put in the coach, the last farewells taken, and we all walked sorrowfully back to the:now-desert ed home; my own heart as heavy as any there, for I knew that I should have to break to the stricken father the tidings of his son's flight. That wretchedness, however, was spared me. On arriving, a letter with the Cork postmark lay on the table. Neil open ed it with trembling bands, and immediate ly after let it fall from his grasp, sank on a seat, and covered his floe with a groan.— Phil bad volunteered on board of Her Maj esty's ship Diomed, and was then in blue water on his way to the East Indies. "Well, for a long -time after that you wouldn't have known the place. In both dwellings there was a sense of desolation greater than that which follows death. The old routine of every-day life began once more; the saw and the sledge-hummer were again heard; but all heart seemed to be gone from the work. Neil's brow gathered deep wrinkles, and his erect form began to - soup painfully. I was always welcome at the cottages, and would go over there of an evening; but the meetings of old days were ever—the conversation invariably turned on - those that were away, and Bad words came of a sad theme. "In due thrre they got another packet from the Mays, still more bitterly reproachful than the last. It broke off, in the most insulting terms, all communication between the fam ilies, and contained a little misstre from Ailsle to Phil, humbly acquiescing in this sentence, and bidding him farewell." " 'Arid is it Ailsie herself that could write this?' said the blacksmith. •Then, place God, no sun of mine 'll iver spake her name againl' "Su it was over forever, and Brian and Mary made their mournful pilgrimage. "Three pretty boys were growing up around them, whose little endearments had somewhat weaned the old men from their sad recollections, and brought a new feeling of home into the cottages, of Cloughnagan • nah, when Phil came back among us from Chatham, where his ship had been paid off. It was the return of the prodigal over again; every. one in the place—the girls must of all—trying to show their joy at the re ap pearance of the blacksmith's blue-eyed bon. Feasts and merry makings were the order of the day; and when the dainties had been discussed, and sufficient of the rale' .nni showen imbibed, then followed rattling jigs and country dances on the barn-fluor, where I promise you more than one pair of bright eyes sought fur a partner the young hero of the night. But I remarked that this B,,rt of thing was discouraged by Phil from the first moment of his return. Nu one was more frank or genial than he; but no maiden ever got a glance expressive of more than good will and kindness. Arid I remarked, also, that he never alluded, in the , must distant manner, to Ailsie May; nor was her name once mentioned in iris presence. As if by universal - consent, this theme of the old love was to be buried forever. "But. 0 how blind we aroz--the best of us! It was not long. before I began to think that if Phil's heart was cold to the girls round about, it was somewhat engaged in a quarter where, by tho laws of God and man, it's love was a crime. How or by what de grees this dreadful suspicion came upon me I cannot well say; but come upon me it did; and I saw, moreover, that the conviction of of an understanding "between his brother and his wife struck, with a deadly chill, the heart of Brian Carey. I had never heard a hard word between the brothers. Open, manly and generous, each had seemed to seek every means of showing his affection• for the other; But now there was, as it were, a• cloud between them—a something inex plicable—a silence that was not a silence. There was that about Brian which made tne fear. At times tre would stop work al together. and sit with his eyes fixed on the white furnace; at others he would suddenly cease the measured beat of his sledge-ham mer, and strike so quick and fiercely that the sparks flew like dust, and the stout bar was beaten flat. And once I started back on hearing him break frmu• tke room Irrtere sat Mary with a wild and bitter oath. "A. year of this went by, the worst year they had ever known. I now wont seldom Gt Cloughnagannah, for I was busied with matters relating to my present situation.— But when I did, I always came away more an more oppressed with the idea. I could detect looks passing between Mary turd Philip that clearly betokened something in which the rest had no share. An assumed indittereoce„ too, about, them strengthened this conviction in my mind, and I felt ap prehensive of still worse days fur the once happy days of the (image. To me it was all th.• more grievous that I could do noth ing; fur, though so intimate with all, of course, I couldn't open my at iuth. "Have you ever gone into the theory of presentiments, George?" I looked up, in some surprise, at the sod. (leanest, of the question. There was a mournful smile on A—'e face as he con tinued: "Well, I have thought a good deal about it, end from personal experience, I have a firm faith in forewarnings of impending ca• !amity. I woke one morning suddenly, op pressed with a fear which I could neitherr describe nor account for; but it was some thing connected with the Careys, for, do what I would to distract them, my thoughts would wander to their abode. I had some vary important work in my laboratory that morning—the very thought of it was out of the question. I felt something within me irresistibly urging me towards Clonahna gannah, and after a hastily swallowed break fast I set off. I went over that upland yon der. There was a sort of half-beaten path that led by a short cut through the little belt of plantation that surrounded Carey's garden. In the shade of this Plantation I saw two figures—Mary and Philip Carey. They were standing in close and earnest conversation—so earnest, that they heard not the cracking of the twigs and fir-cones beneath my feet. I approached rapidly and came up to them, but not before I had die $1,50 PER YEAR IN BEY; • • $OO IP' 0 I ; . tinctly seen Mary take a letter from her breast aad give it to Phil, who pressed it to his lips, at the same time wringing her hand. Seeing me at the instant, be concealed it— confusedly, hurriedly. There was ember rasgment on all of us. Fur myself, I expe rienced in that moment a dull, hopeless sor row for The Eden that the serpent had de stroyed forever. Then, with redoubled force, came the strange conviction of im pending ill that had weighed me down in the morning. "Mechanically—without the slightest rea son, but driven by some unfathomable im pulse—l seized Philip Carey's arm, and led him in the direction of my own home. Ile was looking down still—our eyeq had never met—when I starred and trembled at the sound of Brian's voice, calling from- the garden. We turned; he leapt the stile and sauntered slowly up to us. I have seen faces which death has so altered that they scarcely presented one shade of the expres sion they had worn during life; but I never paw the face of n living man so changed as was Brian's at that moment. It was stony —ghastly! It was the face of one in the awful moments when reason is departing.— lie lind on his blacksmith's dress; his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the shoulder, the muscles of his arms standing out like curds. A fowling-piece, used for keeping down winged vermin in the garden, was grasped tightly in his hand. "Well. Brian,' I said to him, with badly asumed cheerfulness, 'how goes the world with you? Nrhy not at work?' " "The birds is think on the berries, doe tor—very thick; an' father's yonder by the fire, tied down with rheumatic; an' Phil, there, has other things to do than shoot tkem—havn't ye, not., Phil, alannah?— Mary, my soul; away into the house with ye, and see to little Nell; I'm feared he's scalded himself, or something.' "Miry' tripped away; and, as she went, the oppression on my heart grew deeper, and deeper; and deeper. "'Brian,' I said, 'you're not looking your self to-day; you're not well.' "'Nell, is it! Oh! fine an' well, brave an' hearty! An' what else should I be?' he laughed out. 'Sure, havn't I the muffin' bits o' ohilder? Havn't I Mary, that's true to me in thought an' deed? Ilavn't I Phil, there, ready to lay down his life fur me? nn' my father, and Mary's hale and strong in their grey hairs? Arn't we all together, sure, and the good roof over us, and the bite and sup always to the fore? Happy?' "Ire ended almost with a scream; and then his voice sunk to a low mournful plaint— "'You see, d , ctor, they'll not come to take the berries fair and open. They settle on the bush, and eat out the seeds; and when they've got the heart, they leave the useless shell to perish. Oh! doctor, doctor! do ye mind the days when Ailsio was here?" "I was indescritiab:y shocked. In Phil's face was a look I had not seen there for many and many a long day. It shone from. his eyesat the sound of the name; it brought back powerfully the-days of their happiness. For the moment, it was as if the cloud be tween them was removed—as if the feelings of boyhood rushed back with its remem brances, and he yearned towards his broth er. Brian want on in the same strange tone: "'They says there's more than the birds does that; an' why shouldn't they be shot like the birds! See there, now! There's a hundred an' more on the treq I planted for Mary when my heart first warmed to her blue eyes. That's a long, long time, See them, note "I was looking at the tree, when the report rang out and Phil Carey full atone dead without a syllable. The charge had passed through his body like a six.pound ball, and I was spattered with his blood from head to foot. Tie gun was lying on the ground and Brian standing be4ide it. rigid, gazing in his brother'. face. After n minute's examination of the corpse, 1 turn ed to him; whatever my words were ho did not bear them. Again and rignit. I spoke— he was mationleis. I raiseil my voice, and the unwonted sound brought Mary from the house. With a horrified glance around, that seemed to take in the whole meaning of the scene, she threw herself on the body, and burst into the agonizing, passionate wail that betokens Irish sorrow. The sight of his wife's prostration did what all my efforts had failed in--it roused Brian from his lethargy. He stepped back a pace, and a word hissed from his teeth—a sigle word —but one so terrible that Mary's wail was hashed in a moment. She rose from her knees and fatted bins, her countenance as white as his own. "'Brian Carey,' she said. slowly, 'may God Almighty forgive you for that thought.' "'Ohl it's innocent ye are, with, your white face,' he cried, savagely; 'party and innocent, like the bright Sabbath I took ye to the church through the green corn-fields. But, woman! there's something here'll show the black lie that's in per heart this min nit!' "lie Song himself down; snatched from Phil's rent garments the letter I had seen her give him, and tore it open. I read it myself sometime afterwards—a large'. sheet covered closely with fair, ' neat writing, breathing out all the hope and, love - a her Sad young heart; and there it was. at the end, blurred by a crimson stain—'Your own in life and death, Aliens " Hero A---stopped, his voice faltered, [WHOLE NUMBER 1,547. and a tear dropped on the rein. I did not like to interrupt him, or hasten his narra tive of what yet remained to be told. In a slower voice he continued: "It was all plain now. Parental harshness and injustice had been powerless to keep the young hearts apart, even with the ocean between them. Not a mail had crossed but carried the words of love from each to each. But pride and false shame had 'been' strong with Phil. To Mary alone bad be breathed• a whisper of what was in his heart; and she, like a true woman. had lent herself to the correspondence. Every letter came through her. But the truth was known too late.— The letter dropped from Brian's band. and he rolled over on the ground with a loud laugh. Now, George, let's talk of some thing else!' * * 4 w 5 - * Early nest morning I had thrown up the window, to inhale the heather-laden breeze ;Lod gaze on the rich landscape spread before the house. Woods, hill and water °you . - where; nut a sound to break the stillness but the piping of the birds from bough and hedgerow. About a stone's throw from the little avenue I could see, peeping from the trees, the roof of the establishment with which my friend was connected. "What a sweet seclirsion!" I muttered; '•What a peaceful refuge for the stricken ones whose lot it is A—'e melancholy yet noble duty to alleviate!" "Yon speak truly, George," said his voice at my elbow; "a melancholy yet noble duty. But we musn't philosophize just now. I have a farewell visit to make my patient; will you go?" Though a spectator of life in many of its mournful phases, I had never been in such an institution before. There was much to sadden, much to instruct. Some of the in mates were destined to go forth again into the world; by far the greater part were isolated forever. We entered a passage leading to a row of cclle detached from the main building. At the sound of the keep er's key in the lock, a terrible chorus arose, which told me this was to be the iaddeet scene of all. Passing several doors, led me to one heavily plated with iron, and having a small grating in the centre. For a moment I looked in, and then turned away shudderingly—my heart touched to the very core! "God take us nil into hie keoping,!" said A—; "that was Brian Carey." Scenes in the Life of a Showman I=2 ,A\ showmna meats with strange sites.— lie sees human natur as she are, unmasked & without no close an, & he must be stoopid er nor a ded keb boss if ho &taunt stock his Branca with several kinds of nollege. The undersi nod won't Boste;-,'lme a Amer ican sitterzun. I go in fur the fast-salin, snug Lilt, and full-wand skeuner United States, which runs herself, she duz, 8: on whose decks 1 man is as good ne anuther man, and frequently more so if be condueks hisself strate. To use a Shakespeerian fru. Ime na tie and to the manners born, and dont want to put on airs cimply becaws I've met with grate sucksess in the show perfesh uu which Ive bin into gain on 22 yeree.)— My worthy projennytors was unable to give me a chtesykar eddyeashun, & all I nose I pickt up “Am I Baled, as I saled,” , to koto from Captain R. Kidd, tile• seller brawl pirot.- But thank Ileven my sire and siren gave me a good name, & and I pint with feeling of pride and pleshure in the took that non of our family was ever in Congriss or on the New York portico, .or Arms house Guvner. The enenuin Peens in my checkered ka rear is respectably submitted:— WININ'S RITE.I. pitoht nay tent in a small town in Inji anny one day last season. & while I was statidin at the dore takin moony, a deppy truitutn of ladies came up & se4l they was members of the Bono:ntil Fetriail Moral Reform and Viri in in's Rites Associeshan, & thay axed me if thay cood go in .without payi n. "Not. elookly," ses I, "but you oan pay without goin in." "Do you know who we air?" sed one of the wimin, a tall & feroshus lookin orittur, with a blew kotten umbrellas under ber arm, "do you know who wo air,,stir?" "My impresshuo is," and I, "from a kur eery yew, that you air temales. 4 "We air, cur," sod the feroshus woman— "we belong to a Society whitoh Metres wimin has rites—whitoh blesses she is in dowd with as mutoh intelleolt as man is— whitch bleeces size is trampild on & slimed whitoh will resist hens4th and forever the impediments of proud doolipre-in man." Dario her discourse, the esseotrin fond° grabd me by the coat 'collar th was rosingiu her =broiler wildly over my bed.. "I hope, warm," ses I, starting. back, "that your inteushuus is limitable! /We II jean map, hear. in satraps. phial. Betides I've a wife to hum" , "Yet," oxide the female, "(k. sites a slave! Doth she never dream of freedom- 1 4°th she never think of throwia off the yoke of ty ranny. thiokin d, speakin /L- votin for her self? Dath she never think:of Ass* here things?" "Not bein a antra( ,bOrpista."..iid I, by this time a little riled.."l kin safely n 7 that she dotbant. •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers