r _ ... 1 1 eii T , t ____, i r t _ A f , e r ! I i t i I 1 SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor. VOLUME XXXIII, NUMBER 47.] PUBLISHED EVERY MURRY MORNING. Gyiee in Carpet Hall., NOrtk-zoestcorner of &oat and Locust streets. Terms of Subscription. Ore Copy p erancurn,i f paidin advance. 81 50 •• not paid within three ntnnthafromeommencementoft ht. year. 200 Ce•swess tr ctc,x3.3r., Not unseriputon received ter u le,o• time than 'ix mou th s; and., paper wilt he di.continued until all arrearage sa re paid .unlesFat the option° ft lie pub iaber. o , .Honey na yue•emittedb smailaahepublish er s neL• Rates of Advertising. guar i [tea]:3lm week . it Ih re e weeks, each libenquentinsertion. 10 [l2 inenioneweek • Un three wrelra. t tlO .eeli•el4equen tingertion • 25 ; yargertlivertkementmo proportion Ati nerel liecoanierinbe ,nmle to 'inn rterly. half en, f. , 11:e trlyotvertieers,wito are striell)confined otheir business. gasttiono. From The Home Journal An Extraordinary S4ory. THOR THE HUNGARIAN Doctor N—, one of the most eminet sur geons of Pestb, was summoned at daybreak, one morning, to see a person who pressingly sought to bo admitted to him. While wait ing in the antechamber, the visitor desired the servant to add that every moment's de lay was dangerous, as he stood in need of instant help. The surgeon, hastily throwing off his night-robe, gave orders far him to be shown at p at once. It was an entire stranger, but one whose dress and manner proclaimed him a man belonging to the best class of society. Ilia pallid cheeks spoke of some deep inward bodily and mental pain, and his right hand rested in a silken sling. Though he suc ceeded perfectly in controlling the expres sion of his countenance, a low murmur of pain, in spite of all his efforts, broke forth repeatedly from his lips. "Rave I the honor of addressing Doctor N—?" he asked, in a weak, almost faint ing voice, as he approached the surgeon. "Yes, sir." "Pardon the question. I do not live in Pesch; I came from the country, and know you lg reputation only. I regret nut to be able to make your acquaintance under hap pier circumstances—" The surgeon, seeing that his visitor could scarcely stand Gn his feet, begged hlin to rest on his divan. "I Am weary; for a whole week I have not closed my eyes. I have been having a pain in my right hand, to which I can give no name. In the beginning I felt only a slight pang, hut in a short time it commenced to burn with constantly increasing violence, growing to be a torture beyond the reach of the slightest alleviation. I have tried every obtainable remedy, far and near, but noth ing relieves me—there remains the same piercing, cutting, deadly pain. Finally, I could bear no more; I got in a carriage and hastened here to you, that you might free ma from my torment by an operation—the knife or iron—for I can support it no longer." The surgeon here endeavored to encourage him, saying hie suffering might be overcome by milder means than the use of the knife. "No. doctor; neither a plaster nor yet any palliative can relieve it; what I aced is the knife. For that alone did I come here." Doctor N-- asked to be permitted to look at his hand; on which the sufferer, set log bis teeth hard, held it forth. The stir gash, using the greatest precaution, began to loosen the bandage. "Let me entreat you, in advance, doctor, not to be everconao by anything you will see. My pain is co strange, so extraordinary, that it will certainly take you unawares.— Hesitate at nothing, I pray you." The surgeon assured the stranger that ho was accustomed to everything, in his pro fession, and pledged himself to hesitate at nothing. nevertheless, when the hand appeared, he shrank back involuntarily, letting it fall heavily. The hand was apparently as mind, healthy-looking and perfect as any other—not a spot was to be seen upon id A. sharp cry from the sufferer, as he lifted the dropped hand with his left, proved that he bad come in no jest, but that ho suffered cruelly. "Where does it pain you?" "Uere, doctor," said the stranger, point ing to a place on the upper surface of his hand, where two veins parted from each other io faint blue lines. The surgeon marked him shudder, as he toothed the spot with bits finger. "You feel it paining you here?" "Frightfully!" "And you suffer from the pressure, when I touch the place with my finger?" The stranger was not in a condition to answer. Tears started to his eyes,vo dread ful was the suffering. "Wonderful? I distinguish nothing here!" "And yet I experience there so inexpren sible a pain that I could dash my head against the wall." The surgeon took a m;croscope,esamined the place, and ebook his head, "The akin is clear and healthy; the blood coarse* freely in the veins; there is no inns- Elation, no epparans hurt. The place is Precisely in its natural state." ' , U . think it is soznewlia.kregider." *.Foster?, -. .• " _ The stranger took a pencil from his pock etbook, and drew a line around a spot tho size of a half-kreuzer. "nue." • The surgeon carefully looked at this spot, and began to think that his patient was in sane. "Remain here," be said; "I may be able to assist you in a few days." "I cannot wait. Do not think, sir, that you have a madman before you. That is a misfortune of which you will not have to cure me. The place I have indicated causes me much ngony, that, i repeat it, I have alone come hero to have it cot (eat." "Which, however, I will not dot" said DM the surgeon. "And why not?" "Because your hand is perfectly sound; so far as I can see, there is no more the mutter with it than there is with my own hand!" "You are, therefore, ready to decide that I am mad —you cannot believe me jesting," returned the stranger, taking a note fur n thousand guldens out of his pocket-book, and laying it on the table. "There, see that this is no child's play, and that the service which I ask at your hands is of the highest neces sity and importance to me. I entreat you cut this spot from out my hand!" "And I say to you, sir, that all the wealth of the world would not induce me to look on a sound member as diseased, or make the slightest incision in such a one.— To do it would be to do what my surgical knowledge condoms—it would put my rep utation to shame—in a word, my duty for bids it! The whole world would maintain that you were a. lunatic; but of site they would say either that I had been so unprin cipled as to profit by your mania, or that I was too ignorant to perceive the error into which you had led me." "So be it. At least you can accord me this favor. I will perform the operation myself. Ny left hand, will, it is true, be somewhat unskilful, but let that pass. I will soon finish; you will surely have the goodness to dress the wound for me." The surgeon marked with amazement be yond words, that the strange being was in sad earnest, fur he laid aside his coat, turned back his sleeves, and took his pen knife in his left hand. Another mumcnt and he would have plunged it deep into his right hand. "Hold!" cried the surgeon, alarmed lest the stranger should sever an artery, "if the operation be really inevitable, then, in the name of heaven, let me perform i tl" On which, taking his surgical instrument in his hand, he laid the patient's right straight out in his own, at the same time re questing him to look another way. "That is not necessary. Allow me to show you just how deep the knife shall go." And, truly, during the whole operation, the stranger's resolution did not foil him; he himself directed the surgeon as to the depth of the incision; his hand never moved until the spot represented as the seat of the rain was out out, when, throwing hack his chest he heaved a great sigh of relief. "Do you feel no more burning," ques tioned the surgeon. "It is entirely gone," answered the stranger, smiling; "the torture has ceased. As for the slighter pain which the wound occasions me. it is to the first pain what a warm breeze is compared to insupportable heat." While the bandage was being applied, the appearance of the stranger totally al tered. A calm, pleasant expression met the surgeon's eye, instead, of the former look of intense pain; the brow grew clear, the color lively, returning love of life replaced the late cruel agitation—the whole man seemed transformed. As the surgeon readjusted the stranger's hand in the sling, he felt his own seized by the left hand of the latter, who, pressing it warmly, said to him in the most fervent tones: "Receive for your masterly service my most sincere thanks. Yuu have laid sue un der a real obligation to you—tot the remu aeration on my part is small, indeed, in com parison with the mighty assistance which you have rendered me. I will be indebted to you ell my life long." • But the surgeon's estimate of the value of his services was wholly different, lie ab solutely refused to accept the note for a thousand guldens, which still laid on the table. The stranger persisted io leaving it, and bad passed out of the door, when, seeing the growing displeasure of the surgeon, he turned, and begged him at all events to consent to expend a part of the sum foe the benefit of some hospital, and hastily took his departure. Doctor N— visited his patient for . 4. few days at the hotel where he was remaining until his wound was completely healed.— This was rapidly taking place. During the course of this time, the surgeon had an op portunity to make observations which re sulted in the conviction that he bad to deal with a refined, accomplished man; one whose every word evinced, not only extensive in formation, but that knowledge of the world so agreeable when united with superiority of mind. Not the slightest truce of any ail ment, either bodily or mental, was to be re marked after the operation. The stranger returned to his estates shortly afterward. perfectly restored. Three weeks_ had passed when the servant was again called, upon to announce to the surgeon the arrival of his singular patient. "NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA. SATURDAY MORNING, JUNE 21, 1862. The stranger, who was instantly admitted, appeared agaiq with a bandaged arm; and, so great was his suffering, that, at first glance, his features were scarcely recogniza ble. Sinking into a chair, before the surgeon had time to offer him a seat, he stretched out his hand to him, no longer sufficiently master of himself to control his groans. "What has happened?" sympathizingly inquired the surgeon. "The inci ion was not deep enough." groaned the stranger. "The pain bus re turned—burns more fiercely than before.— I could not at first bring myself to trouble you again; I lingered, hoping that death would come and put .ea end to my exii.t ence. But what I longed for came not.— The pain was, and still remains, concentrated in this one place. L oak at ine, a , ,1 perhaps you will form an idea of my suffering." The countenance of the stranger was white with al.ony, and cold drops covered his brow. The surgeon unloosed the band ige. The wound had, closed; everything about the hand appeared healthy ond sound us before, and - the pulse be.tt evenly and naturally. '"l'llis touches on the marvellous?" ex claimed Doctor N. "It passes widely be yond everything in my past experience.— Wonderful!" "Yes, wonderful, terrible! Seek not now for the cause, doctor, but free me from this torture. Take ;our instrument, and insert it deeper than before, that alone will give me relief." The surgeon saw that he must grant this prayer. For the second time be performed the same operation; again did he• remark the astonishing alteration in the countenance of the stranger. Again, as he replaced the baudag,c, a fresh color took the place of the patient's pallor, brightening the visage before so wan. But the smile returned not now as before. Sadly he thanked the surgeon for his assistance. "I thank you, doctor. Again the pain has ceased. In a few days the wound will be healed. Nevertheless, be not astonished if you see ins here in a month." "Be easy on that score, sir; chase that thought out of your mind:" exclaimed the surgeon. "1 have an unerring conviction that that deadly pain will return at the end of a month," said the stranger, dejectedly.— "13,: , .sides, what is to happen to me must hap pent—till we meet again:" The surgeon related to his colleagues all the particulars of this unaccrumtatle pain. They consulted together, but no one was able to offer a theory, perfectly satisfactory, explanatory of a case so strange. Toward the end of the month Doctor N— began to look forward, not without sadness, to again seeing the stranger; but time passed 00, and he did not appear. Thereupon several weeks elapsed; when the surgeon received a letter, dated at Li 4 late patient's place of residence. lie opened it. By the Brat glance at the closely written pages within, he saw that the stranger had written the letter with his own hand, and inferred from this that the pain, which assuredly would have prevented him from writing, had not returned. The contents of the letter were as follows: "DEAR SI it: -I will not leave you longer in doubt concerning the fearfully strange malady which I am about to carry with me into the grave. I will give you the origin of this terrible evil. For a third time within a week has this frightful pain returned. I will not longer struggle with it. At this moment I am only enabled to use a pen by placing a piece of burning sponge on the back of my hand over the affected part; while this burns, I feel only the smarting caused by its intense heat, and that is as nothing compared to the former pain. 'Six months ago I was a happy man. I lived without a care, upon my income, and was in peace and friendship with all the world, enjoying all the pleasure that a man of thirty-live finds to enjoy. A year ago I married—married for love. My choice fell upon a beautiful, accomplished, warm-heart ed girl, the protege of a countess in the neighborhood. This portionless maiden lured ine—not from gratitude alone, though through me she had become mistress of my home and sharer of all I possessed—she had truly a chinlike love for me. For half a year each succeeding day brought me more happiness than the last. When I went to the city for a day, my wife could scarcely rest; when I returned, she came out to meet me a mile from home; and once when I had been belated, sbe never closed her eyes the whole night long. When I occasionally prevailed upon her to pay a visit to the countess, who loved her tenderly, she always returned the same day—it seemed impossible for her to remain more than half a day away from home and me. her love for me even went so far that she gave up dancing rather than rest her hand in the clasp of another. In a word, my wife was an innocent child, who had no other thought than me. "I know not what demon one day whisper ed in my can " What if all this be only as sumed?" Thus man, in the midst of the greatest happiness, too eften experiences an insane desire to look for pain. "My wife bad a little work-table, the drawer of which she kept invariably locked. I had often notioed that she had never left it open; never by any 'chance, had forgotten to take out the key, This thought began to tryuble me? I was certainly Wide myself. I believed in her innocent countenance, her clear eyes, her kisses and el:Armen° More. What if these are but parts of the deception? "'One day the countess visited us. She came to take my wife home with her, over whelming her with persuasions to go and spend the whole day with her. Our estates lay not far distant from one another and I gave my wife a promise to follow her soon. "Scarcely had the carriage left mz court yard, when I collected Together all the keys I could find, and with them sought to open the closed drawer. At length I found one. "A looker-on would have taken tne, as I drew out the drawer, for one who for the first time in his life was about committing a theft. I was a thief, opening a lock to steal from a weak woman her secrets. "My hands trembled as I came in contact with the different things in the drawer, but carefully avoided creating any disorder that might betray my presence, Suddenly my breast seeme I as if crushed in by iron hands; I felt on the point of suffocatingl— Under a roll of lace lay a packet of papers; quick as thought my heart whispered they were letters; at the first glance any one would have known them to be—lore-letters. "The packet was bound together by a rose colored ribbon, embroidered with silver.— As I touched the ribbons, I thought; "Is this right? Is it unworthy of an honorable man, thus to steal the secrets of his wife— secrets which belong to her maidenhood alone! Is she answerable to me for her thoughts and feelings before she became my wife? Should Ibe jealous of the time when she scarcely knew of my existence? But what if these letters date since I have had a right to watch over all her thoughts, to be jealous even of her dreams—since she has been my wife?" "I untied the ribbon. No one was there; no mirror near, to point out on my cheek the mounting flush of shame. I opened one letter after another, and read them all through to the end. "Oh, that was a . terrible hour! "Shall I tell you what was in those letters? The most despicable treachery ever prac tised against a man. My best friend had written them—but in what tone? With what persuasive and passionate eloquence did he speak therein! How he planned and coun selled the course a wife might take to de ceive her husband! And all these letters wer dated since our marriage—while I had been so happy! I find no words to picture what I experienced on reading them. It was a feeling like the working of deadly poison. I drank this poison to the last drop. I read every one of those letters through by itself. Then I laid them in Order, bound them to gether covered thorn with the lace, and lock ed the drawer. "I was certain that my wife, if I did not go for her, .would hasten home before even ing. And so it was. flow quickly she sprang from the carriage and ran toward me; how she embraced me, how she kissed me! now happy she was to be with me again! "I allowed her to• perceive nothing of the revolution which had taken place within me. We talked together, supped together, and retired as usual to our rooms, which wore side by side. I did not close my eyelids; awake, I counted the hours. As the first quarter past midnight struck, I stood in her chamber! Like a little angel in the midst of snowy clouds, lay her lovely fair head in peaceful slumber upon the dazzling white pillows. What a monstrous lie of nature, to lend to sin features so innocent! L was as determined, as inflexible, as a monomaniac in his fixed idea. The raging poison of jeal ousy had eaten into my soul. Softly I laid my hands upon her throat, and suddenly I pressed them together. That moment she opened her large, dark-blue eyes, saw me with amaze, then closed them slowly. She was dead. She died without having had time to utter a word in her own defence, peaceful as in a dream. As I murdered her, she felt no anger toward me. Only a single drop of blood, pressed out of her mouth, fall on the back of my hand; where, you know but too well. * * * * * "She had no relation to inquire into the cause of her death; and I purposely delayed sending out to my friends invitations to her funeral until it was too late for any of thorn to reach my place in time. No one upon my estates had any suspicions of the truth. Besides, I was master; who had any right to question me. "When all was over, and I was returning to my home, my conscience was not bur dened in the least. She bad deserved her fate. I thought of her no more. "On reaching my home, I found the coun tess, my wife's only female friend, just arri ving. Like others, she had come after the hour appointed fur the funeral. She was painfully agitated. Whether from sorrow or sympathy, I knew not, but the words qt consolation with which she essayed to ad dress me, were so confused that I could scarcely understand them. At last she clasped my band, and said, in faltering tones, that sbe saw herself obliged to con fide to me a secret, which she mast entreat me not to reveal. She bad given my wife a package of letters to keep for her—the con tents were auoh that she dared not keep them by her—she had now to beg me to re turn them to her. An icy shudder went through me as she spoke these words. With marked coldness I asked her what those letters oontained. The countess shrank back, and answered, hastily: "Oh, air, your wife was more generous than you. When she took those letters into her care, she did not ask what they con tained, but gave me her word to guard them well, and I am sure Phe has kept her pledsr. She had a noble soul; it would Lave been impossible for her to break her solemn pron.- "Very well," said I; "how am I to know these letters?" "They are tied together with a rose-col ored ribbon embroidered with silver." "I will look for them immediately." "With this I took my wife's keys in my hand, and began to search for the packet. I knew but too well where to find it. "Is this it?" said I, at last, bringing it to the countess. "Yes, yes. Only see, here is the same knot I made; your wife never untied it."— [dared not lift up my eyes—l feared the countess would read in them that I had bad it unloosed—ah, that I had gone further, and committed a monstrous crimel I took brief leave of her, excusing myself as well as I could. I needed to be alone. The countess returned home. Her husband was in all his actions mean and brutal; his tastes were low and wholly unworthy of his rank. Had I been such a man, I would deserved to have such a wife. But my wife was an in nocent spotless angel, who loved me when I murdered her! I remember nothing of what passed for hours; but this I know; that when I return ed to consciousness, I was sitting on my wife's coffin, in the vault. I was not yet so insane as to believe that I could awake her, but I wanted to speak to her. It seemed to me she would hear my words: "By the true, upright love, with which you once loved me; by the love which you took with you for me down to the grave, I implore you, have mercy oa me, and avenge yourself on me in this life! Ll!ave not my punishment to another world, but let me suffer here on earth—torture me, kill mel— Wait not until I am dead, but avenge your self now! •'•Thus madly did I speak to the mortal remains of my wife; whereupon I slept, or rather swooned. I began to dream. Per haps it was no dream. I seemed to see the lid of the coffin slowly open, and the form of my dead wile, resting therein, as slowly arise. I was on my knees before the coffin, my hand resting on the side. her lips were pale, but a red drop of blood stood on thorn. Slowly she bent over me, opened her eyes as she had on that last time, and pressed a kiss upon my hand. The red drop which had hung on her lips rested on my hand; she closed her eyes, laid herself back again on her cold pillow, and tho coffin closed over her. "Not long after, I was awakened by a frightful pain, like the sting of a scorpion. I hastened home. It was still daylight; no one had noticed my absence or my return. The blood had disappeared from off my hand, but in the spot where the drop had rested, it was burning as if a corrosive poi son had penetrated therein. This pain in creased from hour to hour without ever ceas ing. Even in sleep 1 felt it. I said nothing of it to any one; no one would have believed me. You know now, sir, what I must have suffered, and from what anguish your knife relieved me! Scarcely had thesecone: wound healed, however, when the pain came anew. For the third time it now racks me, and I have not the strength to endure it longer.-- In an hour I will sny farewell to earth!— Ouly the thought that, since she has been avenged hero on earth, she will forgive me on the other side, gives me a ray of console- tion. "I thank you for your heartfelt sraypathy, and for your aid. God bless you." A few days later might have been read in the journals: "Ooe of our richest patriots has shot himself. Grief for the loss of his wife is supposed to be the cause." Joe Harris's Panther Fight. Joe Barris was the youngest of three brothers, the eldest, Bill and Sam, being tall raw boned, fair haired, fair complexioned men, noisy, insolent, and quick of quarrel, and constantly engaged in fights, in which, by the way, from their great personal strength and activity, they generally proved victorious. Joe on the other hand, was about the middle size, with dark skin and eyes, and his bullet head covered with short, crisp curls, of the jottiest black. Quiet and cool in his demeanor, he seldom or never got into a difficulty, but when ho chanced to be drawn into one, gave ample proof that he was by no means behind any of his family in fistic prowess and accomplishments. They lived in Crawford county, Arkansas, some thirty years ago. It happened on one occasion at a quarter race—at a little place familiarly known in those days as Pin Hook, but is now the thickly settled town of Van Buren —that Joe got mixed up in a fight with one of the bullies of the neighborhood and was knocking the conceit out of him •"band over fist," when Bill, the eldest brother, who was standing by. and hadn't bad a fight for more'n a week, jumped in between, took the I fight off Joe's hands, and demolished the fellow in the twinkling of a bedpost. After the affair was over, and before they had time to liquor on it, Joe took Bill one side out of ear-shot, and very deliberately remarked to him— "Look here, Bill, I'll tell you what it is, I've no objection in the world, if you see that a feller's gluing the better of me, that you should get in and get us apart, but I've no notion when I've got a feller as good as whipred, that you should run in sod take all the credit of the kW 'lslet the first $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE time you've done it; an' if you ever do it again, 1 give you fair warnin', I'll turn right round an' lick Sou like h--111 Now mind if L don't!' "Very well," says Bill, who was well aware that Joe would be apt to be as good as his word. "I'll try and remember." They went bac's to the crowd, and clinched the understanding with a smile of Baldface. A few weeks after the conversation and fight aforesaid, Bill and Joe walked down into the river bottom, either to hunt up some cattle or hogs, or to look for timber stocks. Bill had his rifle, but Joe was un• armed. After forcing their way some half a mile or such a matter, through the thick underbrush composed in part of the red buckeye, with its brilliant blossoms, they were suddenly startled by a low, savage growl, which sounded uncomfortably near, and ere they could look about them, or make any preparation, with a wild shriek of ex ulting rage a large female panther sprang from a limb overhead full upon the shoulders of Joe. To twist himself around and seize the animal by the throat was the work of an in stant on the part of the intrepid borderer, and then commenced a struggle fur life or death. After being stripped to the skin and receiving some severe scratches, Joe got his knife in requisition and put an end to the panther by ripping up her bowels. Mean time Bill had been looking on, quietly rest ing on his rifle. When the beast was dead, and Joe bad recovered breath somewhat, he noticed the calmness of Bill. "Why, Bill! why the b-11 didn't yoii shoot the varmint, when you seed her a &du' me so?" inquired he. "Hum!" says Bill. "Very good reason why! Didn't you tell me, t'other day, if 1 ever mixed in a fight of yearn agin, when you was gittiog the best of it, that you'd lick me, say? If I'd a seed the panther havelyou down, and puttin' it into you, I'd a shot him, but as long as I seed you was gittin the he t of it, I wouldn't a touched him fur half of Crawford county, d—d if I would!" Of course Joe saw that Bill was TWA so he patched up his scratches and said no more about it. An Extraordinary Baby. A circumstance, productive of a good deal of merriment at the moment, occurred a short time ago at the Malrern railway sta tion, in IVorcestershire. In the entertain ment given by Mr. and Mrs. Howard Paul, a little dog is employed in one of the imper sonations. Trained by a Maltese fancier, the droll little animal is very obedient and amusing, and accompanies the artistes in their numerous professional engagements.— Mr. Paul had in his employment a Man chester lad, and it seems that "Dick," (as ho is called,) in a moment of gay fancy, dressed up the animal as a baby, with all the accessories of cloak, hood, veil, and all the inexplicable train of long clothes. On reaching the station, "DiA" leaving occa sion to superintend the transit of some lug gage, deposited his charge io the waiting• room, and blandly desired a stout, matronly looking old lady, to keep an eye fur a few minutes on his dear child, which was in ' delicate health, and added, significantly, that the veil must not be removed fram the face, as the light would cause it to wake.— The old lady promised to heed these instruc tions, and away went the lad. He bad not been more than a moment•absent before the dog, missing "Dick," began to utter those sounds peculiar to the canine race, and which are known by the euphonious term of "squinnying." The lady opened her eyes and gazed round the room in astonishment. "Decry me," said she, "the little pet must have a bad cold—what funny noises it is making." And the -'squinnying" grew louder and more defined. "Oh! gracious goodness:" roared the old dame, "it must be choking, or something is the matter. That odious man has tied its cap strings too tight; as I often say, men have no business with the care of children. There, there—little dear—h-u-s-h!" and the good old lady crea ture waddled to the baby, to release it from its imaginary troubles, when the animal, recognizing a stranger, gave a dashing leap into the middle of the floor, and floundered off on to the platform, pursued by passen gers, porters, loungers, strangers, and half a-dozen boys, all of whom were sorely puz zled to determine what could give such won derful powers of locomotion to an infant.— Terrified by the shouts of the people, the animal darted about the platform, and be fore it could be captured it fell on the rails, as the train was approaching. Now was a wild burst of excitement. "Oh, murder:" ' shrieked the old lady, joining the throng, "it will be killed—it will be crushed—run over. Oh! oh!" and she screamed louder than the whistle of the engine. At this mo ment "Dick" made his appearance on the platform. He caught sight of the baby, and divining the cause of the excitement, rushed on the track and tore the animal from the rails within a second of the arrival of the engine. In the scramble the cap and bon net became dislodged, and instead of a child in wildest convulsions, there was seen the head of a highly-excited puppy, whose masquerade had certainly been of tho queer est. The consternation of the passengers was abruptly changed to a shriek of mirth, in which every one joined except the humane old lady, who protested the affair. had given her each a. tarn that she abtxdd to laid up for wealm—Englialkltiper. . [WHOLE NUMBER 1,661 Raven Stories. It is a curious fact 1./111. IL uird of so grave and sedate a demeanor as the raven, should so affect inns and taverns. Whether it is that, being burdened withal] evil conscience, he seeks there to drown it—not by indulging in intoxicating liquors, bat rather in the row and riot consequent on its absorption by mortals—or whether, being of a cynical turn, he delights in the contemplation of folks doing the same thing from the most opposite reasons—drinking, because they are jolly, because they aro miserable, be cause they can afford it, and because they are so wretchedly poor—is more than T can say. I only know that of the few remain ing ravens left in London, at least one-half are attached to public houses, and nearly always to such houses as adhere to the old custom of sign-poets and water-troughs. Some years ago there was attached to a tavern at Stoke Newington a raven whose great antipathy was grey or white horses.— Brown, black, or roan horses might halt outside in welcome, but so sure as one of the detested color drew up and appeared at the water trough, Peg was on the alert. She would perch on the very edge of the trough and abuse the poor animal in the very choicest Billingsgate, or "Gee, whoa!" in exact imitation of a carter, and start it off. I should have thought all this was done for pure fun and love of mischief, but for an in cident related to me by the landlord, and which at once proved that the bird was act uated by sheer malice. It happened one day that Peg was par ticularly curious respecting a tobacco-box belonging to a sailor who was drinking ale in the parlor. Presently the sailor took a "quid" from the box and put it in his month. Peg watched the operation with great atten tion, and, observing that the sailor relished the disgusting mouthful, as soon as his back was turned she darted at the box, and swal lowed its contents at a gulp. The conse quence was that, for the remainder of that day and the next, she was very ill indeed. few days after, an unlucky white horse, attached to hay cart, arrived at the house in question, and was drawn up to the trough to drink, and the raven instantly began her persecution. The white horse, however, had met Peg several times before, and had learn ed to treat her impudence with indifference. Finding abuse and assault of no avail, Peg turned into the house, and, finding some men smoking in the tap-room, she Ellaught up a paper of tobacco from the table, flew to the edge of the trough with it, and delib erately dropped it into the horse's nose-bag. —Home Pets. COORTESIER OF WAR.—Mrs. General Lee and her family nre at the "White House," a stately mansion, surrounded by gardens, with clipped hedges, fountains, and other rural adornments, which has recently been the home of her son. Although surrounded by the Union army, the house is as carefully cared fur as Arlington was, when Gen. Mc- Dowell had his headquarters near there. Mrs. Gen. Beauregard and her mother occupy the fine residence of Mr. Slidell, at New Orleans, and General Butler has threat ened vengeance on any man "who dares to offer her the slightest insult or molesta tion." "Jolly old cock-eye," as Butler's soldiers irreverently term him, says, in re gard to the possibility of assassination by the Crescent City seceshes, with which he is constantly threatened through anonymous letters, "if they do it, it will only place General Phelps in command, and if they are satisfied with that arrangement, I have nothing to say." GOOD.—The Toledo Commercial gives the following good retort:—"The other day as a number of rebel prisoners were being shipped at Sandusky for the traitor's home on Johnson's Island, a little German made himself quite prominent with his noisy.re marks about the socesh. One a brawny siz rooter, turned savagely upon him, said, "We eat Dutchmen down Southi" "Fy den you no oat Sigel?" was tho instant retort. Se cosh had no reply to give, but passed sadly on. gii...The Emperor of the French has pre sented four picked rams, from the Royal flock at Rambonillet, to the King of the Sand wich Islands. Mrs. Partingtoo is anx ious to know why they were picked, when shearing would hero been a great deal better. llelt-it is generally considered that a man has a right to steal a kiss, or an umbrella, whenever he has a chance; but if the kiss is not returned it is the lady's fault; if the umbrella is not returned it is the gentle man's fault. IZES.A gentleman who went off in search of his rights has returned to Louisville, and says the only ones, be was likely to find in the Southern Confederacy was his funeral rites. *WA Southern paper advises that Gen eral Floyd be nominated for a Major-Gen eralship. lie may be nominated and con firmed, but, Viso, he will be just what4e now—a confirmed scoundrel. Mahe rebels are the opposite - of debit. les. Ilia danger was in bis heels. Their wbolc safety is in theirs. Ift.Prentios says there is no bravarslool oa earth than the soul of our Pototta Lan ' skew' *San a *saunas min olti.ollllB,llloo' dion meal ! 40"jeappitalet SEI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers