.)
T}E(6 l t t la
=SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
VOLUME XXXI, NUMBER 9.1
cPUBLISITF,D , FITERT SATURDAY MORNING
Office in Carpet Hall, Nortle-trest corner of
49r0al mad .Locust streets.
Terms of Subscription.
.one Copy perunnuma f puidin advance,
• ‘• I not paid Witilltit
anontherrameommeneemeniofthe ye tu ar, ree 200
Cf taxi tom 451. 42,1=1,1:3Z,...
14 as II biseripti on reeetvedlor a less time than six
snontlts; and uo paper will be ilkeontinued until all
iarreerage sa re paid,unlessat the optionof the pub.
is her.
113Ionernay tre.e mit tedbymnil a it hepublish
^el' a risk.
Rates of Advertising.
square[6lines] one week, - $OBB
three weeks, 73
CaCii Aulntquen iiitsertion,
ve2 ines]one week. 50
three weeks, I 00
eneliAnn•equeniiniertion. :25
Largerntivertnemeriffin proportion
A liberal tiscountwitihe made to quarierly,half
,arly or :early tilveririsers,who are sirical)eonfinell
•otheir business.
DR. HOFFER,
INKNIIST,-11FIICE4 front Street 4th door
_Li kola Loeust. over Saylor & 31cDoaald'a Hook store
'Columbia, Pa. 11:7'Entrunce, saute le= Jolleyla Pao
,tograph Gallery. h ugtun'2l., 1859.
THOMAS
13F ifIIE.PEACE, Columbia, Pa.
OFFIi:E, in %Vliiprices Ncw HuthlittK, below
Slack's Hotel, Front street.
p"r Prompt attention given to all businets ent:nsted
to t>< enre.
November 18, 1857,
111131=2!
A TTOINEY ANA 'COUNSELLOR IT LW
colt, mbin
Collectienve4 romptly made n LanonsteinndVerk
gourmet , .
Columbia, May 4,1950.
J. W. FISTIER,
Attorney ant Counsellor at Law,
.7Paat,.
COlumting, :Style/rater ti, 1....430• 1t
S. Atlee Heckles, D. D. 'S.
PRAcncEs the Operative!, Surgical and Meehan
teat Departments of Dentistry.
Oirics Locusts' reet, between be Srankliielloure
and Peed Office, Columbia, l'u
11.4 y %7 1,09,
"p100111%.--4410 4hz. Snouts : • at inuitesale
Ai or Retail, at N .
.11ec..12, 1957. Locust rureet.
atent Steam Wash Boilers,
wen known Boilers. are kept constantly on
T
hand at HENRY PFA II LER'S,
Locust street, opposite the Venal:lin !louse.
Colesehia,-11 49,191;7.
Harrison's Coniabian
is a guperior article, permanently black.
19' and not corroding the pen, can be had in any
...amity, trt•tlre nuttily Atedicbte Store, and blacker
felt. trint.engl.llll Boat Polish.
Columbia, 3 nue 0.1939
CISTERN PUMPS.
frlllE subscriber has a large stock of Cistern Pumps
A. and Rams, to ns'hich 'lre Tails the attention of the
public. Ire to prepared to put them up for use in a
mitmtaatial and enduring manner. _
December 12,19.57
GILIMAN, or, bond's Boston 'Crackers, for
Dyspeptics, and Arrow limit Crackers, for in
valids and sliilduciu—new articles in Columbia, et
the Family Medicine Store,
April IC Ida.
NEW CROP SEEDLESS RAISINS.
,TTIE beet•for IhcS Pudding, Le.—n .fresh supply at
1L H S , CYDAM'S
Grocery Store, Corner Prontand 1111 Ion tit.l
Nov. 19 1,Y59.
SHAKER CORN
JUST received, a fires rata lot of Shnker Gown
ILitYICbrW
Grocery Store, canter aTrona and Union .t.
Nov. _it, Kitt
PA I,DING'S .PREP[tSED GIVE.--The wont of
•uelt an ,prone Is telt in every family, and now
can `ui , Pin`d-; for Invipt,,,g fat Sitar..., chum
ware,ornameiliat work., toys. he., there to nothing
'rune riot. IVe have found it useful in repairing molly
articles whielt have heen-useleas for months. You
.1111116 ill it lathe
ta.onnA FAH IMICIN STORII
IRON AND STEEL!
¶HE Subecribery have received a New and Large
stark of all kivdv mid sire.. of
BAR IRON AND STEEL'!
They are con.tantly supplied with stock iu this brunch
of his business. unit can 11111101 it In CLl,lOlll4r, iu large
or smell quantities, at the lowest rates
J. RUM PLE dr. SON.
Locust street below Second, Columbia, he.
April 2e, IeGO.
A RTL;T'S COLORS. A general assortment
of enlor—io.tuhes. Jehme. u variety of Arlin , .
Sti oche.. et the Golden Tanner Drug -4 lore.
lIiTTER'S Compound Syrup of Tar and
ihi ("homy, for Coughs, Catch, tic. For onto
Isr*Goldon Mortar Drugrtiore, Front it. tJItI
AYER'S Compound Concentrated Extract
Sursanarilla for the cure of Scrofula or frog's
/iv 'baud ail •emfulou• affections, a fresh aruele just
received and for Rule hy
R. WILLIAMS, Front at , Columbia,
.serit 2d. IFAD.
SAL '.
2„ CROSS Friction Matches, very low for cash.
V V Inne 25, '59. R. WILLIAMS
DRIED FRUIT.
won Dried Fruit—dprden. reacheo, Cherries ,
A' the bean the market, gn to 11. :CV DAM'S
Grocery Store, Corner Front and Union sic
'Dutch Herring!
A" one fond of a good Herring an •On supeied at
tt..F.CfrFal.lll,7oS
Nov. 19, 1579
Grocery Store, No. 71 Lomita st.,
.TON'S FHB OHIO CATAWBA BRANDY
and MEE WINKS. cepecially far bledicines
ma Sacramental parpo.m., at the
Jan.2l3. t'.l M IN MEDICINE. STOW,
NICERAISINS for S ets. per pound, are to
be N ICE ,
only at
I:OERLEIN'S Grocery Store,
Mort+ 10.1E40. No. 71 I.ncum parret
GaILDEN SEEDS.—Freak Garden Seeds, vrar
ranted puro, or all k:nitit,ju.l received or
ECIERLEWS Grocery Store,
51,rch 10,1860. No 71 Losu.t street.
POCKET BOOKS AND PURSES.
LA MM lot of Fine and Oommon Pocket .Ikboka
41. and Parses, at from l 3 cents to two dollar" each.
He Idquartera and News Depot.
Clattembia, Aped 14,1 i4O,
BSA more of thou beautiful Prints
lett, which wiU he .W.l cheap, at
SAYLOR & /t/cDONALDS
Columbia, Pa.
April 14
Just Received aadiPor Sale.
1500 MKS Ground Ilya Salt, in large
•or swan quantitiea, at
APPOLD'S
Warchowe. Canal Elwin.
Illogy5;60
'TAMARINDS. Just received a new lot el
Tamarinds, at ttre Gohtea Mortar torn Slave.
Nay 5, 1800.
(.‘Ol,ll CREAN OF GIBERINS.—For the are
'kJ
and prevention to chapped hands, &c. For sale
at Om GOLDEN MORTAR DRUG STORE,
.Dec. 3,1830. Front street. Columbia.
Turkish Prunes!
FOR a Aniline atticloot Prunes roe toast Co to
$. F. ESER.LEIN'S
N0r.19 ,16.20. Grocery' Saxe, No 7/ Locum at
GOLD PENS, GOLD PEN S .
TUST received a large and fine a•sortraent of Cold
RI Pens.of Newton and Griswold'a raanufaciare, at
SA VLOR t 31cDONALD , S Book emir,
Agril.l4. Vront rtrect, above I.oeurt.
A Hunt on the Highway
$1 so
FROM THE JOURNAL OF A POLICE OFFICER
There was a shrewd robber somewhere.
The farm-houses were robbed; shops were
robbed; the tills of the bars at the wayside
inns were robbed; and •people had their
pockets picked. All this happened in the
region cifmountry between Sidney and low
stone—not a field of vast extent—and yet
the robber,-or mobbers.emild not be found.
Officers had ecearcheel in every direction,
and several suspiciouslloalting individuals
%12ad been apprehended; 'but 'the real culprit
still remained at large. One day the mail
was robbed, and on the next a man had his
pocket picked of five hundred pounds, while
riding in the stage-coach—for my narrative
dates back to the old coaching days. The
money had been carried in his breast
pocket, and he knew it was stolen from him
while he was enjoying a bit of doze on the
road.
I had been confined to my house by a
severe cold fur several days, and was not fit
to go out mow; but as this matter was be
coming so serious, J.felt it my duty to be on
.the move, and accordingly d fortified my
throat and breast with warm liannel, and
t forth. a had no settled plan in my mind,
for I had not yet been upon the road, and
was not thoroughly "posted up." A ride
of five miles in my own trap brought me .to
Sidney, and thence I meant to take coach to
Lnwstone, where Sam Stickney., ono of the
shrewdest of mitten, lived. Stickney bad
.already boon on 'the -search, arida wished to
consult him before making any decided
movement. I reached Sidney at half-past
five in the morning, and the coach left at
six. £owsteao was sixty miles distant, so
I had a good ride before me. During the
early part of the day I rode upon the box
with the driver, and from him I gained con
siderable information touching the various
robberies that had been committed. He was
forced to admit that several people had been
robbed in his stage, though he declared that
he couldn't see into it, for he had net the
most remote idea, even, of wko the robber
could be.
We reached Dennville.at noon, where we
stepped to dine, and when we left this place
was the only passenger- At the distance
of twelve miles, at a little village called
Cawthorne, we stopped to change horses,
and here another passenger got up. I had
been occupying tke forward seat, as that
happened to be wider than the others, en
gave me a better opportunity for lying
down; and when the new-comer entered lie
took the back seat. lie was a young man,
d judged. and s ot very tall in stature; but
sa completely bundled up was ho in shawls
and muffleys, that his size of frame was not
'easily determined. fie was very pale, and
coughed badly; and 'I at once made up my
mind that he was far less fit to travel than
I was. After we had got fairly on our way
I remarked to him that I had been suffer
ing from a severe cold, and that this was the
first timel had ventured out for quite a num
ber of days. Ile looked at me nut of a pair
of dark, bright eyes; and when lie seemed to
'have determined what manner of man i was,
he said—
11. PFAULER,
Locust street
"I have something worse than a cold, sir."
He broke into a fit of coughing, whichlasted
a minute or so, and then added—"lt won't
be a great while before I shall take my last
ride."
"You are consumptive," I suggested.
"Almost gone with it," he replied.—
Again he was seized with a spasm of cough
ing, and when he had recovered from it, he
'continued—"Tho disease is eating me up
and shaking me la pieces at the same
time."
if further imformed me that 'he had
started on a tour for his health, but that ho
had given it up, and was now on his way
home, n'hidh Ito was anxious to reach as
soon as possible. Another paroxysm seized
him at this point, and ate intimated that he
was •unable to converse, as the effort brought
on his cough. I had noticed this, and had
made up my mind to trouble him no more,
even before he gave me the hint.
After this he drew his outer shawl more
closely about his neck and Paco, and having
secured an easy posture, ha closed his eyes,
and I was not long in following his exam
ple. Towards the middle of the afternoon
the coach stopped at a small village, where
we changed horses again, and where four
passengers got up. This broke up the
arrangement of my friend and self for rest,
as he had to take one of the strangers upon
•his seat, while I took naetker ttpon
_mine,
the other two occupying the middle seat.
r The now-comers soon broached the subject
of the robberies which had been committed
io that region, and I listened to gain in
formation, if possible ; bnt they know no
more than everybody else know. They had
heard all abut it, and were inflated with
I wonder.
One—an old farnmr—asked me if f knew
:anything of the robber. I told him I knew
but little of the affair in any way, having
been sick, and unable to bo oat among
folks. Then ho asked my consumptive
friend if he knew anything about it. The
latter raised his head from its reclining posi
tion, and was on the point of answering,
when we beard our driver, in quick, abrupt
tones, ordering some one to get out of the
road. I instictively put my head out at the
gfintions.
"NO ENTERTAINMENT TS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA_ SATURDAY MORNING. SEPTEMBER 2'9, 1860.
window to seewhet the trouble was. and
my , eye.wcs.tjust quick enough to detect a
load of.fuggots in time to dodge buck and
nvoitbthem. The road was quite narrow at
this point, and as the faggots were , 10.ided
very widely, it was impossible for the driver
wholly to avoid them, and the side of the
coach was swept by them quite smartly.—
I escaped without being touched. but not so
my friend, II heard en maclanuttion-1
thought rather a profane one—from hi. lip-,
and on looking towards him I saw that tme
of the faggots had struck him over the
left eye, making quite a mark upon the pale
skin.
"Thee fellows ought to be taken up Cu.
loading 'their faggots out so." said another
of the passengers. do very well to
load hay out wide, for that won't hurt 'no
body if it does hit tern; but faggots are
different."
This turned the conversation from the
subject of the robberies, and it was not
alluded to again during the day.
We reached Liwstont ,portly after dark,
.and 'I went at once to the residence of Mr.
Stickney, whom I found at home. Lie had
been oat all dal, and had made all carts of
efforts to obtain some clue to the perpetra
tors of the robberies that were being com
mitted, but without effect.
'•A ens learn nothing," he said, "upon
which 'to hang a suspicion. Two shops have
been robbed in this place, but not a clue can
I gain 40 the perpetrators. They must bo
old birds."
Linea you seen Gamblit?" I asked. Gam-
Wit was the officer at Orton, a town twc!ve
miles distant.
"Not lately," replied Stick-ney.
"He has been at wurk.?" I suggested
"Yes—l am sure of it."
"Then," said I, "we will gn over in .the
morning to Orton, and with Glamlolit in com
pany we may be able to peefect some ar•
rangement for pursuing this investigation
to better advantage."
This met the view of my host, and so we
left the matter for the evening. On the fol
lowing morning we were up early, and as
the coach would take its directly to Gam
blitt's house, we chose that mode of convey
ance, and repaired at a reasonable hour to
the tavern for that purpose. When we
'reached the inn we found the old farmer,
who had been one of my fellow passengers
on the night before, stepping about the
doorway in a high state of excitement. Ile
had been robbed of three hundred pounds,
and he was sure it must have been done in
the stage-coach, for he had slept with his
pocket-book under his pillow. Ile had not
thought to look into it when he retired, but
he had found it empty that morning when
ho got up. He said the wallet had been
taken from his pocket end put back again—
he knew it. As soon as he saw me ho was
-anxious that I should bo searched. I al
lowed him to perform the operation, and
then I told him who I was, and informed
him of my hnsiness.
"But," said I, "..cliere is the pale,
cmi
sumptive man, who came in with u 4"
"lie went away last night," answered the
landlord, who stood near.
My first aim was to satisfy myself that
the old man had been robbed in the stage
coach, and of this he succeeded in e,mvin
eing me. After this my suspicions rested
upon the consumptive man, and I believed,
if I could End him, I should find a rogue.—
Should we go to Orton, or remain where we
were? Stickney said, - go to Orton first—get
Gambilt—and then make up a programme
for action. So I bade the landlord to keep
n sharp look-out; and also spoke to the dri
ver who had brought me from Sidoe‘,..
who was now on the point of returning; re
questing him, if ho saw anything of the
pale man, to see that ho was secured. The
auspicious individual had only remained at
the inn a few minutes on the previous even
ing, and had then gone away in a gig, which
bad come for him; but no one could tell
what direction he had taken.
The epoch fur Orton soon came to the
door, and Stickney and myself took our
seats inside, the farmer having determined
to remain where he was antit he heard
something about his money. There were
two other passengers inside, and two or
three outside, but they were strangers to me.
We had gone two or three miles, when the
driver pulled up before a small farm house,
where a woman and a trank were waiting
by the garden gate.. The lady was handed
into the coach, and took a seat facing n.e,
and as she ternefi to give the driver some
direction concerning her baggage, she threw
her veil over her bonnet. She was pretty—
very pretty—with rosy cheeks, and spark
ling eyes, and teeth that gleamed in their
pure whiteness like pearls. Iler hair hung
in glossy brown ringlets over her neck and
shoulders, and was a type of beauty in it
self. I looked at the rosy cheeks again—
and at the pearly teeth—and into her dark
lustrous eyes. My gaze was fixed upon this
latter point when she caught my glance,
and quickly dropped her veil. &t first I
felt a little ashamed at having been caught
in so rude an act as that of staring
at her so boldly, but as the face was
hidden from sight, and I had opportunity
for reflection, it struck me that I had seen
those features before.
litre was-a study for me. and I wee bar•
ied in it at once. Where had I seen that
face? Was it possible that t bad ever known
that woman—one so lovely—and now for
gotten bort I thought over all the intimate
friends of my wife; but she was not to be
found there. Then I thought over all the .
pretty girls I had known before I was mar
rried; but when .1 called them all'by name I
remembered that the girl before me must
hove been a mere child when I was a single
man. tlt wits anoying—it made me pro
-yoked with myself—to .think that I could
not call this pieecifemale beauty to mind.
whispered to Stickney, and asked hint if
lie bad cloy soon her berire. no said he
tnni not, ;ind joked rite fur being so .curious
about pretty face.
We stopple/ at a place called "Turner's
Mill's," in the edge of Orton, to exchange
mails, and here jumped out to see the
postmaster, who was an old friend of mine;
anti as T was returning to the •conch, the
thought struck me to go and look nt the
trunk which had been last pet on, and see
if any name was on it. It was marked with
the simple initials—"A. M." So that was
all gained from that source. As I came
to the coach-dour I approached it front be
hind, and as I cast my eyes up I found that
the beauty had her veil raised, and was
looking:in at 'the post office, as though anx
ious for the mail to come, that we might be
off. The expression of anxiety detracted
somewhat from her beauty, and as I looked
Ispon her non', seeing her face in a different
light, I was struck with a sort of snake-like
cast which was perceptible in the whole
character of her features. I was upon the
point of withdrawing ray gaze, least she
should catch me a second time, when a
slight motion of her head roiled the curls
over her temple, and saw a faint line,
something like a vein, over her left eye.
It was a mark—a livid scratch—where
something had struck her. It might have
been the stroke of a whip. But no; I quick
ly glided back behind the coach, and there
reflected. Such a mark as that could be
made by a whip, but I was sure that TUAT
mark had been made by a faggot!
When I returned to my seat in the conch
the fair passenger's veil was down again.
Could it be possible that my suspicions were
correct, and that chance had thus thrown in
my way a solution of the problem which
bad vexed my deputies so much ? Yes, I
was sure of it; and the more I compared the
two faces in my mind, the more I saw the
resemblance. zither these cheeks were
painted red to-day or they had been Tainted
white yesterday. The eyes were the same
—the contour the same—and that brow,
with its tell-tale mark, not to be mistaken.
"What's the matter 2" asked Stickney
"I feel chilly," I replied. 'l'm afraid
I've caught more•cold."
"Never mind. Here we are; a dose of
something warm will help you."
As Stickney spoke, we stopped at the
door of the inn at Orton. The driver an
nounced that they would stop there fifteen
or twenty minutes, to exchange horses and
wait for the mail, and also informed the
passengers that they would find plenty of
accommodation at the house, if they chose
to go in.
"Will you step in, ma'am?" he added, to
:ay beauty.
She said "he would; and he helped her
out, nod conducted her ti a pri rate eitting.
El=
"St,lekney;" said I, "I'm going to find out
who that woman is.'"
"Nonsense!" said he.
"1 think i've got tko scent."
Eli 9"
"I rode with her yesterday."
"With her 2"
"It was a rust thee."
"She—"
•'Don': waste time in talking, imt do you
stela.' hero by the door, and pap in the mo
ment you hear anything to warrant it."
i,•ft my deputy in a state of wonder
meat, and entered the sitting-room. The
beauty was ;icing try n. window, gazing out
.between the blinds. She started up as I
entered, and let her veil fall.
"I thought this was a private room, sir,"
she said. Iler voice trembled anti sounded
ennatural.
"It may ho," I returned; "but that does
not exclude those who have 'business. I
came on purpose to see you."
There was a momentary struggle, and
then she appeared as calm as could be.
"What are you?" she asked.
"I am an otHcer of Bow street," I re
plied.
"And what do you want with me?"
"I want to know who you are.
"Stop—ono moment." she said; and es
she spoke she carried her hand beneath her
cloak. It was quickly withdrawn, and in it
was a pistol, but she had grasped a portion
of her dress with it, and before she could
clear it, I had sprang upon ber and seized
her by the arms. But it was a her no
longer. There was more muscle an that
slight body than I had bargained for. How
ever, my man "popped" in the moment he
beard the scuffle, and the beauty was soon
secured. The glossy brown tresses fell off
during the scuffle, and some of the paint
was removed from the cheeks.
As soon as the prisoner was secured I had
his trunk taken off and brought in, and
upon overhauling its contents we found die
guises of all sorts and quite a sum of mo
ney besides watches and jewelry of much
value. I made him assume a proper male
attire, and when he stood forth, in propria
persona, I found that be had not only used
red paint for the blushing beauty of to-day,
but that he bad applied a more cadaverous
coloring matter for the consumptive individ
ual of yesterday. As he stood now, he was
a lithe built, intelligent looking youth, of
not more than five and-twenty; but with a
cold blooded expression upon his marble
face, and an evil look in his dark eyes.
We carried him back to Lowstono, where
we found the money of the old farmer upon
him, besides other money which had been
lost by different individuate.. At 'first he
told strange stories of •himsdlf, but finally,
when he knew that the worst must come, he
confessed the whole. Ide was from London,
and had come into the country on purpose
to rob. Are had two confederates with him,
who had helped him from place to place.—
One of them had taken him away from the
inn on the night before, and the other had
brought him and set him down at the far
mer's garden gate that morning. We made
search fur these confederates, but they had
got wind of their principal's arrest, and
were not to be found.
However, we had got the chief sinner, and
broken up the game. After he had been
found guilty, and sentenced, he seemed to
enjoy himself hugely in telling how he had
deceived the good people of MP: country.—
Now he would tarn himself again in the old
woman, who had given the driver so much
trouble about her band-box. Then he
would be again the meek-browed minister,
who had distributed tracts among the pas
sengera, and picked their pockets while they
read. Then he would draw himself up into
the little hump-backed old man, who had
been lifted into and out of the coach, and
robbed his helpers While they fixed his
crutches for him. It was funny—very—and
perhaps we might never have caught hint
but for the accident of the fagots. That
was not so funny for hint; and I doubt if he
found much fun iu Working at our hard
stone—hammering, hammering—early and
late—with an inexorable master ever him
to spur him up when he legged.
Taking Her Picture
A writer in Chambers' Edinburgh Journal
gives some of his experience as an assistant
in a photographic saloon:
Scarcely had we set our studio in order,
before the doorman, rapidly ascending
the stairs, breathlessly announced a cus
tomer.
"She won't go no more than a shilliag,"
ho gasped.
Her face, excessively flushed, was sur
rounded by a bonnet cap, which though
wonderfully large, was only in proportion to
the size of the bonnet it was intended to
adorn. Gloves of the commonest kind con
cealed ker puffy hands, while a shawl of
intricate pattern and variegated color almost
entirely concealed her respectable but portly
form. The "glass house" was a temporary
erection at the top of the roof. Access was
gained by a feeble ladder originally, fur the
sake of cheapness, constructed of groan
wood. The hot sun had twisted it s comps•
nent parts in the most singular hut effective
manner; it was afflicted with the rickets,
and evidently failing fast. By a series of
violent efforts on her own part, vigorously
encouraged and carefully guided by the
Professor and myself, the corpulent lady
eventually reached that frail, transparent
structure, poreh d, as I before said, on the
very apex of the roof.
"Screw her up," said the operator to me,
carelessly, as ho disappeared into the dark
room; "screw her up
"Goodness gracious!" ejaculated the un
fortunate victim, "what duos the gentleman
max n?"
"Ile merely requests no to .pose you,
madam," I replied.
"Pose! I never was mire astonished. Let
me go down stairs, young man."
"I should say, to place you in a proper
position," I interrupted soothihgly. “That's
it, madam. Gloves off, if you please; your
hands so; your eyes on that small pie ‘m of
white paper; lean against this, if you please
(placing her head in the 'rest'.) I will mind
your bonnet.
"There; that's it—admirable!" I added,
really somewhat pleased at the effect I had
contributed to create.
"Now, madam," remarked my instructor,
as ho issued from his don, to the tortured
innocent in the chair, "now, madam, look
pleasant."
She endeavored to obey. A strange and
awful expression passed over her counte
nance—the ends of her mouth she somehow
hitched up to her oars; her eyes emerged
from their sockets, while the loose skin of
her forehead arranged itself in folds, like
reefs in a ship's sail.
"Do not move," enjoined the artist, "till
I replace the cap. Cap off. One, two,
three, four, five, six, seven. Cap on again."
The victim accepted the relief with a deep
sigh of resignation.
I accompanied the artist into his dark
room to witness the process of developing
the picture. It "came out" at last. It
certainly resembled the original as ihe ap
peared when she was taken ; but I need
hardly add that the expression of her face,
at that moment of agony, was wholly unlike
the one her countenance habitually wore. -
"You'll never give her that," I whispered.
"Won't I!" responded my instructor, "you
shall see."
Advancing from his dark room, he had
the exquisite assurance thus to address his
visitor:
"I congratulate you, madam, on the very
best result we have obtained to-day." (No
more than the literal truth; she was the first
visitor we had.) "The half tones are su
perb. Bmotifull" be continued, in raptured
*1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE.
accents, "beautiful! Are they not, Mr.
Jinks?" appealing to ate.
"They are certainly most charming," I
was villain enough to assert.
"Well, urn, ah," returned the original of
the great work, "well, I don't think it is so
very like."
"Oh, it must be a likeness," roundly and
positively declared the artist. "It can't
help being a portrait. Look at the shawl."
"Well, yea, it is like the shawl. The
shawl is capital"
"Then, of course, madam, it must be like
you."
Nut being sufficient mistress of logic to
liscuss the point, the unhappy lady surren
dered at discretion.
"lViiat price did you? eh"—
"Only a shilling," interrupted the victim;
"young man below said it eras to be only a
"Oh," responded the photographer, with
a magnificent bow, "gnu will not he imposed
on here. May I trouble you to well: down
stairs while I reduce the picture to the shil
ling size?"
"Reduce it?"
"The size is two but r do no
care for the trouble; Q will cut it. Your
face will be preserved madam, but your
shawl will not be seen."
That remark decided the question; the
portrait should remain as it was.
We moved down to the reception room
”Would you like to hare it colored?" was
the next inquiry,
"Colored? Oh, dear, no. That she would
not."
"Sixpence, merely;" remarked the twist,
looking out a "mat" and "preserver."
"Only sixpence?"
"Ind the improvetnent," she was inform
ed was "immense,"
"It was only sixpence.'
A hint was enough. A dab of powdered
color vigorously thrust on either cheek,
then a portion puffed away. The opera ticn
was completed before I thought it had been
fairly begun.
The portrait, secured in the aforesaid
"mat" and "preserver," was then carefully
fitted into a case of morocco leather, neatly
lined with silk velvet of a crimson hue.
"Without ease, two and six; with, five and
six. A superior article, you will observe,
madam, with the hinges gilt."
The old lady hesitated.
"A portrait," remarked the photographer,
"is not an every day expense. Accident,
madam, has been your friend, and you pos
-9035 a perfect specimen of my art. This
gift of fortune, without a case, may be bro
ken; with a ease, it positively lasts forever
—absolutely!"
Flattered, cajoled, convinced, our visitor
paid the five and six, and %c.c.s politely shown
down stairs.
Trade Lies
IC is a vulgar fallacy that lies are only
lies when spoken. Some persons even as
sume that lies are not lies if uttered to push
the sale of merchandise—at least, that they
are only "white lies." The essence of a lie
consists in the attempt to deceive—in making
a false representation. Whatever be the
motive, if it involves deception, it is a breach
of the moral law.
There can be no doubt that the shopman
who asserts that a print will wash, when he
knows it will not, utters a deliberate lie.
If he make the assertion, with the mental
reservation that "all the colors will vanish
under the process," it is still a lie; and.
even if he is doubtful on the point, it is
equally so, because he attempts to make nn
impression on the mind of his customer that
may be adverse to the truth. The tickets,
with minute figures and hair like strokes,
to. often exhibit° I in windows—the calling
prints "Uoyle's" which are not Hoyle's,
and flaimela "real IVelsh" which are not
real Welsh, and such like, are lies of too
gross a character to require a word of com
ment.
Concealment of the truth comes under the
same category of lying,. The publisher who
appends critical notices of reviewers to his
list of books, leaving out quolifying passages,
lies. So does the shopman who purposely
conceals defects—the manufacturer who
sends a 34 inch cloth for what is usually 36
inches wid 3—and the shoemaker who sup
plies Northampton made for "bespoke"
boots.
The sale of adulterated goods, or articles
with false labels, must bo condemned by all
as unadulterated lying; but it is said by
some whose moral perceptions are not very
clear, that to label a2OO yard reel of cotton,
"Warranted 300 yards," is not wrong, be
cause it is generally understood not to mea
sure what it is called. Then why is it done?
Why not label it 200 yards, which is the
truth? Simply because there are those who
do not understand it, and, placing reliance
on the dealers, purchase it for what it is
called. Lies consist, not in the verbal utter
ance, but in the idea they are intended to
convey. Tho footman who says that his
mistress is "not at home," although he ut
ters a verbal falsehood. is not really guilty
of lying, for it is a mere polite form of ex
pressing her wish not to be seen, and is re
cognized in high life as such. It is, how
ever, an immoral custom, as it familiarizes
the servant with a tampering of truth.
It is possible also to speak a verbal truth
which is substantially a lie. liorrocks is an
eminent manufacturer of calicoes. Anoth
er man of the same name might start a
manufactory of similar goods, but of an in-
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,571.
ferior quality; and the tradesman who as
sured his customer that a roll of his calico
was Iforrocks make, would be uttering a
lie which at the same time would ho ver
bally true, his intention being to impress the
buyer with the idea that it wits from the loom
of the famous llorrocks—the Ilorrocks par
excellence.
Lio3 may ho acted as well as spoken.—
The wearing of imitation jewelry is a lie;
the physician who directs his servant to call
him out of church in the middle or the ser
mon, acts a lie—so does the grocer who has
his cart emblazoned with his name, driven
hither and thither—without nny other ob
ject than to lead his neighbors to imagine
ho is doing a largo trade—and the draper
who tickets goods in his window at fabu
lously low prices, to induce the supposition
that all his wares are sold nt similar prices.
Indeed, in trade, there are more lies acted
than spoken. Placing the best fruit at the
top of the basket—turning in the dirty end
of a riece of goods—displaying an article
in a fictitious light—placing packages out
: side the door addressed with aristocratic
names—and a thousand other false actions
which might bo cited, are all acted viola
tions of the truth; and although they arc
I poked upon by the commercial world as
Ivery venial peccadillos, are really as much
lying as the most deliberate verbal false
hoods; and so long as this systematic decep
tiveness characterizes the English tradesmen
the sneer Which the Frst Napoleon throw in
l our teeth, that we were a "nation of shier
' keepers," possesses a sting which, withcut;
that, would be indicative of our greatest
national glory—to wit, universal national
industry..—Littealre (British) Mercantile
Circular.
The Turkish Bath
When you enter, you aro requested to
take off your boots, and aro furnished with
a pair of slippers—a precaution necessary
to keep the matted floor of the salon, or
"cooling-room," perfectly clean. You aro
conducted to a dressing-room, where you
divest yourself of your clothes, and an apron
is handed to you, which you straightway
gird about your loins; then a sheet, with
which you drape yourself; and straightway
you aro conducted down stairs to the bath.
Your conductors are, like yourself, dressed.
in an apron. They are stalwart fellows,
and look as if they had never been dressed
in their lives; for "they are naked and are
not ashamed." These lead you into tho
bath, which is a sombre chamber, lit with
' colored windows, and admitting what de
FreaSh call the mi-jour; it is well ventilated,
and the air is quite dry, but the tempera
ture is 130 degrees of Fahrenheit. As you
enter you lay aside the sheet, and .when you
have been seated some seconds every part
of your skin begins to cover itself title a
profuse perspiration. At first, breathing is
a little oppressed; but that wears off rapid
ly, and in a short time you respire wit%
perfect freedom. Presently you are aware
that you are in a bath of your own making.
In drops, in streams, in rivers, it runs over
you; your hair is full of it; your face is
bathed; your limbs are inundated. Tho
seven millions of pores said to be in the
human body are busily engaged in freeing
themselves from the bonds of a long, if un
conscious imprisonment. In fact, you are
in the most profuse perspiration, you over
experienced in your life. What was the
ten-mile walk on an August day to this? or
even the training walk under heaven knows
how many pea-jackets? All these made the
shirt stick to your back; but this world soak
a whole week's washing of shirts. And p,t
you sit, quietly communing with yourself
ion these matters until one of the Lath-men
rtolls you that it is time to go into the hot
! room 1 Great is The power of human en
durance; your body is now seasoned, and
you walk into a room where the temperatut ,
Lis 170 degrees, without feeling in any way
opmesse.i. And now the streanvi pour out
afresh. All around is dry, Lut you are like
Gideon's fleece. The heat is great, but you
do not earn for it. Tho seven millions of
pores are now all free, and are rejoicing in
their freedom. You thought yourself a
cleanly person, because you have taken a
sponge-bath every morning all -your life, and
l an occasional warm dip. Clean! why, you
were filthy. So, at least, the bath-men
prove to you presently, for they take you
back to the former room; they extend. you
upon a slab; they knead your muscles and
your flesh; and then they roll off you such
a mass of dead skin, used-up epidermis,
that, but for the evidence of your 'senses,
you never could have believed had once be
longed to you. however cleanly you may
have fancied yourself to be, that is what the
Turkish bath will take from you. not only
on your first visit, but every week after.—
The sensation of relief which follows this
operation is amazing.
But what follows is the crowning joy of
all. The Tritons, having shampooed you,
lead you into a cool room; they anoint you
with soap, and turn upon you•a shower of
cold water, following it up with a douche.
Oh 1 the enjoyment, the delicious enjoy
ment of that sensationl There 'is no plea
sure of the senses to compare with it. Tho
reaction calls the blood back to the surface,
and your newly-polished skin glows with
health and vitality. You court the cool
water and embrace it; you revel in it, and
cannot have too much of it. Tho Tritons
have some difficulty in leading you forth:
and sheeted once more, you again descend
to the "cooling-room," where, lying on a