The Columbia spy. (Columbia, Pa.) 1849-1902, December 13, 1862, Image 1
• - .7 - . . . „ • . .• . . 1 11\ 7- ?„- „. • .SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor. .VOLUME XXXIV, NUMBER 20.3 i PUBLISHED PVERY•SIITURDAY HORNING,. Officein Carpet Hall, Arorth-westcorner of i,Frcint and _Locust streets. Terms of Subscription. ?lie COO) , pe rannom if tot paidi advance, • • f not paid within th ree month af rem commencerneniofthe year, 200 11:34:311t251 lL a3Cop3r. alio+ absertpiton received fora less time than et= 01.outtlis; and no paper will he diocontinucd until all . 1 1..rse,erAgesarepatd,ualess.at the optio no ft he pub .:44w. ip"Alloney a a weir.ittedb ymail a hepublish .s , sts Rates of Advertising. quar4Eo ines3one week three weeks euchtubsequentineertion, 10 [l.2' ince:Jane week. 50 three weeks, 140 eachiubsequeniinsertiont 25 ..s t argendvertisementtin proportion. Aliberalliscountwillhe made to quarterly.lialf „t it ispfteltlysdvertiserts,woo are strietlyeonfined .Illicit business. H. X. NORTH, ATTORNEY AND comma AT LAW. Columbia. Pa. Collections r. romptlymade nLancastemndSark 'manes. Columbia, May 4,1850. • DR. HOFFER, DENTIST: --OFFICE, Front Street 4th doer from Locust. over Saylor &IbleDonald's Book sto I Colon* a Pa. EU - Entrance, same I'h oomph Gallery. [Amy. 21. 're Harrison's Conmbian Ink wincti is a superior article, permimentlr black, I'l' and not corroding the len, eau be had in any at the Family Medicine Share, and blacker yet to that English 13001 Polish. Columbia, Juan 0,1839 Another Nem Arrival. NATE are opening dila dny o beautiful line of Ladies', bents' and Hipp.' wear, which we are offering at prices to suit the times. STEACY& BOWERS, cor. :Id nod Locust :Os Julia 4,18,6,2 Vous ek eep e r's, a Word: JUST Received.n full stock of blenched mid un lileachcd Aludms. Checks. Gingham. nod Prints, in n word. everything pertaining to do "uestic nat. _ Cull and examine for your.elvcs. at STI•:ACV & ROWERS. cor Sd and Locust 'June 7, ISG2 Lawns, Lawns, Lawns. •T Fs cidl and see our licutniful Id: cent Lawns. fast esdoss, st STEACY & 110 June 28. 1t Oppo.ite odd Fellow- , I 1011. , HOOPED SHIRTS. !NEW and splendid •iyle of Hooped Filarts, juin I received; Also, n full issoinnent of oilier styles, ;very cheap. A l 4:-.T I3 Y & CASE , Columbia. A pr-I 26, ISGI. • I.ocuiit Street. FOIL SALIM, 15 0 o Shelf. G. A. Suit, 100 Sacks Ashton Salt Ap ply at A I' POLD'S Warehouse, Canal Basin. Columbia. Dre.lS. ISGI. NOW FOR BARGAINS. TTTE linve ja.t seceitred another Int of all-wool Y Wine• and plaid Alosintiliapie... which we rifler at seduced prise:, :TRACY' h HOW Kits. Cola. June it.E, 1E62 Cor. 2d and Locust to. TOLD CREAM OF GLYCERINE.--For the etirr and prevrolion fn rbupprd handu. Ike. Vol un't /LULN :11t1ItTA It DRUG ST4 MI.:. grout MCI Dre I,IBZS 270T1C11. Tunileeiti t pleil node• that he inteetl. /. lietealler Ile do a leash, nod will sell ationit .11 reiloresi men .111,1 niiterii wlw cis eeiee then pity moi,,hl wri Le niieweil u credit :/(/ 11. 1 , . VEIL Oct 0419,a. '..%49.1 AT! SALT! JUST received by the .Itll.l.riber, ut their More '1 Lot old nreet below Second, • . 100 Bags Ground Mum Salt, ik..t twill be sold at LIIC Lowell market prices. Cali .jmy .1. ItUMPLIZ & SON GLASS, GLASS, GLASS Y. "frUST received. irons the manufactory. n In'rge lot o 0 Glass %V are. at very law prices. The place to get r cheap Tumble cc to put your jellies in. is STEAM - & BOWERS. corner Second turd Locust Sts. Columbia. l'a. July 19,15 - Z TO THE LADIES'. 'UTE would call your .peciul attention to a <sew and 11 beautiful line of Dtess Goods we bass just ra c.ciyed,ar reduced priCes ATEAcv t now Err,. Opposat Odd Fellows' Holt. Colunlibm,ra. Mny 17, ISO Tom Thumb About Again! AV PC:Arleen Tin and Hourie-furnia 4 irag t" tore, bo 11. eirvt -thret.oppothe the Bank. 'I be Taamh. limlp• 'r• the very beet Coal Oil Latro• enr •'^rl and exits - nitre I,'mi. 11 - 7" . Beet Coal Oil at 25 cts., per sailer., at Columbia. May 17,1 , 52. Pt A tir.r.rt,4 FArmix. wow?. notrsx* vrovri The last chance for bargains. 2500 Pieces Watt Parer, OF our beg et) lex and quality. yet on hand, which we are elo-o.a out at 50 percent. lower than rhila delphia Wholesale l'oces. Cull tOOll as we u•.- sell mg of rapidly H. C. FONDERSNITTR, Adjoitimg the Egok, Columbia. March 29.1862 AERW morn of those beautiful 'Tuts which will lie cold cheap, at SAYLOR lc fiIcDONALLOA Columbia. ha Carl We Have Just Received R. CUTTER'S Improved 'Chest Expanding SoPpentier and Shoulder Braces for Gentlemen, and Patent Skin :Flueporter and Brace for Ladles, lnst the article that is Wanted at thin time. Come and see them nt Fa mily,Medicine Stare, Odd Fellows' [April 9, I 5.59_ .or, Pond's' Boston Crackers, for 'MA — byarwritiea, and Arrow Root Crackers, vrlida and elsildeen—new articles in Columbia, al the Family Medicine Store, April LG. 11159. - - PREfitItGO GLUI—The want of fh" wch an article to felt In every family, and now cam be supplied; for mending furniture, china :rantre.ornametita I Work, toys. &c., there in nothing .superior. %V e have found it usefulln repairing tnnny articles Whirl, have been useless for months. Yo Jastriiii it at the "ItegsanAl MILT NIIMICIN F. STORE " POCKET BOOKS AND PURSES ALAW: E lot of Fine and Common Pocket Books and Purses, at from 15 cents to two dollar. each. He Idriouriers and News Depot. April 14.1 t6O. AWL PST ARAM/IM. AVING just received our first NEW RING.. STOCK. we would a nnounce to :Min citizens of Columbia and - mei idly, that it is -NOW READY FOR INSPECTION, 4o till whom:my favor as with a call, feeling confident , we ran offer goods at such:inlets as.sv ill induce all to , t iateitase. in. - CALL AND t 4 ER THEM Ea & ito .roreier !Itt and Locust Sm. Opposite Odd Fellows' Hell. E33=l xxosimix, ito - sumur. tapes , awl Hoye iloalery.in great .1J variety notwithnanding the great advance In the priee of go ode,we will sell at dor weal low price. , • itTSACY dr. BOIVP:R3. -Corner of•llecoud and Loottat Street*. Cora. Toll . 10, 4 02. - CotegAtia, Pa •:,-- PISUI - 713311 ,Arkaantin. by the !Mire?. half barrel and quarter r barrel., et the best qbalates. tirsply to Colombia. letly 12. iPO2. - - CORN . - VINEGAR! • • .yr ns.:..m , bPst aetiek or Viewer in th MIMS 4- COS "reTir CORN 171. AS" P .424 , Which may be bad Emileellulactooy, in bei'end .t., zeijOining tee.' Fellows' - • - . l ! C. C. ItISIS . it. COr• EMI TO PRorEsson.s OWEN AND HUXLEY. Say am I a man and a brother, Or only an anthropoid ape? Yourjudgment, be't one way or Vother, Do put into positive Bp ape. Must I humbly take rank ns quadrattan As Owen aian:mins that ought: Or rise into brotherhood human, As Huxley hurt flateringly taught: EMI for though you may think a gorilla Dim% think much of his rank in creation, If of feeling one have a scintilla, It glows to know 'who's one's relation"— Apes and monkeys (now crowding by dozens Their kinship:sviili us to save proved), Or on Oweu and Huxley for cousins, Though, it may be, a little removed, If you ask me my private opinion (Which humbly through Punch k submitted), jro which sphere of nature's dominion I seem to myself to be fitted: To peak with decision I'm funky, Nature's field when I selfishly scan, For in some if man's above monkey, In some monkey's fur above man. My ignorance needs no apologies— With ;mammy nought I've to do— This with all the appurtenant .ologies" 1 leave, my professors, to you. But the point; wherein I say that man Must perforce monkey own his iuperior, Are where man apes the apes all he can, And yet to the apes in inferior. Thus, power of jaw apes beat fellows Of your 011 , 11 ECIC)II4C =ocietie•; The I'. R. they outrival in "bellows." In gymnastics your first Dolomites. What's Rtondin to every chimpanzee, Or Leotard great in traprze If their icats mow the pulthe NVlint rat title a gildion •boutd raise! You ' ve low comedy set°, , on , utntrtate lu c11.2,;41,,T,. :131d lint In many who'd trueu :mu, look glum at Toe rtutukey-eitee• woken. , u laugh. \\'h+ll litgger-dullVer., and jibes To the blank .pider monkey COIll011.1044: Ilefore preseher.drionkeys by llow entail ucum one Spurgeon's proportion,: One distinction ;alleged, I must soy Betwixt man and monkey is hollow— Vt'kere monkey or mon shows the way, Other men. oilier monkeys will follow. But from all points of difference one toms To this crowning divergence to come, Not one man ia.si Ilion..ond e'er learns To keep silent—ail monkeys are dumb: ror distinetiona of brnin—cerebehum-- Po-te riot. lobe—hippoertmou I leave you TO eat down or owell 'rm. They are scarce the di..tilleholla to stamp a• Now thi. way, now that, Withifill end, Pin c+raycd by tha pro , . nod the enni, An I (eel man and mimicry tmatend Which in cature'.. doom a are ;he dmi•, Tbru )u•lp inc, Profe..nrs, I orny; For Engl.-It opimo•t 1 v . .l'ur; (You I lank law• I ruff . ..real Wlll3l/ Only ' So pitched Mill me, through no Clru ) A usticony out of Ihr qa,..1 Had I ',viler be motley or roar, By ciilmfottord rrlf•lnier.Fr4 .11)Toilion? Say you—for hung an, ill Can. Pleasant Railroad Pellowz Does any one know them, I wonder? Will any one have the least spark of pity for a 'timid man, who, in locomotive days. weakly confesses himself to he no traveler? end who, under the misery of an unavoid able journey, suffered one of those friends who speak of themselves as "lawyers al ways on the line," to beguile him out of the snug empty carriage he had subsided into, on the plea that "the nest best thing to a good carriage is good company." I was that man, helpless in my friend's hands, and trying to do a little off-hand bravery, in feeble emulation of his "always on the line" noncltaknee. I dare say my carelessness was not n success; I know it was mixed up with a strange desire to ask my better informed friend how many tun nels there were on my route, and whether they were very long ones. nut shame helped me and I refrained. I took, also, silently and in great humility, my seat in the carriage which it pleased him to point out. And when the train became uneasy. and showed symptoms of a bolt, looking once more in through the window, he nod ded slightly to my fellow travelers, and gave me comfort in a whisper aside: "You'll do now," be said; "pleasant con versable fellows on a journey." I don't know that I like the motion, but certainly it seems to me that the sensation of being whirled rapidly through tbo fresh air does not induce a longing fur conversa tion, but rather predisposes ono to silence. I looked at my companions however, grimly enough from my corner. There were only three of them—wiry man, with white hair, whose cheek bones looked as if the skin was too tight fur them, and they must inevita bly burst it; a dyspeptic looking individual; and a man, whose face I could not see, as had got behind his newspaper, but from the way in which he rustled that same paper, and gave,vont to an occasional "Ll'm! h'm!" I concluded that he was a lamas man. As they all were, nr seemed to be, reading, I had an opportunity for a copious analysis of expression and featirre . , if f had felt dis posed for it; and I was just in the act of, maculating, from - the legs and other portions of body which were visible to me, what sort of a faro might appertain to the third Judi vidusis when its owner lowered the paper, and cut short, my examination with hor-, tibia •,abnaptness. • :Another frightful railway' mid-thernervirak solmondyiceterms-el. B. V. A P POLD, Canal arson Elytttg. The Gorilla's Dilemma grtutinu. =! "NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CIIEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 13, 1862. ing is becoming a thing of positive danger It's awful!" And be placed a finger, which trembled either with the motion of the carriage or from neuralgic causes, on a column of the paper. "Humph!" said the dyspeptic man. "Did you ever happen to be in at the death—l mean, in ut, , a collision, sir?" "I cannorsay I ever did," was. the agita ted response. "Ah! it's not a pleasant thing." "So I should imagine. I..was once in a train when it took fire. The screams of the women were appaling, perfectly. We hap- pened, fortunately, to be near a station, or I don't know what the consequence would have been. And that is a casualty which may Occur at any moment.". "I was once in for a collision," said the dyspeptic. "The only, sensation I can think of in connection with it, is what I should suppose to be implied by the figure of speech, 'pitched into the middle of next week.' That, at least, was my first feeling; the , oext was one - of violent anger against a lady whose head had butted like a batter ing ram into my chest. I suppose she could not help it, and I dare say I was not the only sufferer by the contact, but people should be more careful how they sit. My digestion has never been right since. With the exception of that, I sustained no injury, which was fortunate, as there were a few people killed, and some disagreeably wounded. I also cnce traveled in a carri age whose several joints were in such a state of disunion that I positively at times held my breath in terror, expecting every minute that the thing would smash under me. At the first atationl callef, the gunrd, of course. He just gave a look at my 'car riage, and shook his his head at it know ingly. "'Oh, it's that old customer again, is it? He's at his old tricks. He'll drop to pieces one of these days. Come along, sir, I'll find you another." "What line.was that on?" inquired :the nervous man. "When one thinks," proceeded the dys peptic, disregarding the question, "Of the trivial causes which will produce railway accidents, the only wonder is that there is not more. I have heard it asserted that so slight a thing as the burrowing of a mole is enough to throw a whole train off the line, by causing the sleeper to sink. Whether it is true or not—" A voice interrupted the speaker. By the way, I put it to any candid and unbiased traveler, whether these, my companions, were such as he would chose under the head of pleasant conversable fellows on ajourney? But that is set aside. I was following with painful minuteness the scene of the mole's burrow, the sunk slecrer, and the train pitched over an embankment, when the voice above mentioned, to my unspeakable, but, alas! only momentary satisfaction, broke the dyspectic thread. It was a deep, hollow voice, and it proceeded from the chest of the wiry man. And it said, "I once had an adventure—" It paused at a groan which I tried to smother in my big plaid; while the two other pleasant "fellows bristled up with a ghoulish expectation. REM "I once had a little adventure in a rail way carriage, which may strike you, gentle men, as at least uncommon. It occurred in the closing stage of of a pretty long jour ney, and upon a branch line, on which, for tunately for me, there was little traffic. must premise, however, that there were two lines of rail. In changing carriages I was tired and stupid, and got into the first which offered itself, rather glad to find that it had no other occupant. And as I calculated that there were full two hours of slow traveling before me, I made myself as snug as circumstances would permit, and the re sult is simple. I fell fast asleep. I had all sorts of fantastic dreams, of course, ns one does have in unusual positions; but what waked me? I did not know; nor why I felt constrained to start up with a horrible mis giving at my heart, as I opened my eyes. It wait . ; pitch dark. The light in the roof had gone out, or else never existed. ]lut where were we, and why was it dark? Above all, why were we not moving, and why did the darkness grow upon me as something that could be felt? There is n song about the beating of ones own heart; it was, indeed, the only sound I heard as I made my way to the window. I could see nothing but the luminous rings whiCh came as I beat my eyelids together, vainly; I could not see my hand before me; I could only feel. I tried my waiscoat pocket for a fusee box—found it; there were but two matches, and I struck one desperately. Ohl the glorious beauty of that light! transient as it was; the utterable darkness which fol lowed, as it sputtered for a moment and then went out. It had showed me nothing but a ghastly heap in one corner, which started from nervously, remembering the I next moment that it was my own coat and wrap. •'I shouted, but there was no one to an swer, while the sound of my own voice told me where I was. I knew all about it by this time, though I tried to fight off the conviction. I had gut into the last carriage in the train,.and bad been left behind; not under the broad sky, where the starlight might have helped me, but in a tunnel, and alone. That was the crowning: horror. Why should this last carriage have been the only one left, its it masthave been, for I bid:shouted loud enough to Totem therSeren Sleepers; and why was there no one in it but myself? I knew the tunnel and its length, but 'whereabouts in its hideous blackness was I? Should I get out? I tried the doors, but they were locked; I could, perhaps, have scrambled through ono of the windows, but to what purpose, and on which side? Stretching out my hand, I tried to feel for the wall of the tunnel, shuddering, as I thought it would meet me clammy ond stone-cold, like the hand of a corpse. But I could not reach it. Was it the other side! I pressed over to try. Hush! What was that? I daew back my arm instinctively, and sank down a - helpless mass on my seat again. Do you know what it was, gentle men, that I heard then? It was the snort of a distant engine. Everywhere before me I saw the glare of two ferocious eyes, like the eyes of a wild beast in his den, and I knew that every snort was bringing the monster steadily closer. Which lino of rails was it upon? Nearer still. Another minute more—and where should I be? Mutilated fragments of a.human body once my own, whirling awry in all directions, rose up to answer that question as it passed through my mind. Nearer still. It takes but a second, say the wise and learned, to bring before a man" his whole life; but in that strange moment, instinct as it was with a horrible fascinated excitement, I saw only the ferocious eyes, anti heard the voice of my young brother, dead long years ago, calling upon me to save him, as he was wont to do in delirum. Nearer still—and the earth quivered beneath me, and thunder filled my cars. There was a whirling rush, a quick wind, and then the roar going off into the distance again. When I could think of myself, I found that I was sitting doubled up, skrinhing as a man would from a threatened blow, and my hands were clenched till I felt the smart of tic nails in my flesh. The train had chanced to be on the other line of rails, or 1 had not been sit ting hero now to speak of it. An engine was despatched to bring up the missing carriage, its soon as the fact ,of its having been left, behind was discovered. And so ended my little adventure—in good time, for this is your station, I think, gen tlemen." And the nervous man and the dyspeptic got out. The hero of the little adventure looked at me, and coughed twice; then he sneezed; but my eyes were sealed in the energy of dezmair, and finding his case hopeleq, lie suffered me to do the rest of the journey in silence, with a buzzing brain, and the mental resolution of a timid; man, who will never again suffer himself to ho beguiled into putting himself in the power of "plea not conversable fellows on the jour ney.'! The Double Robbery Toward the close of the last century Northumberland and the border were ter ribly infested by those—to the bucolic mind —particularly obnoxious specimens of the !gnus thief known as "rierers," or "lifters of cattle." Almost all the - rascals who.followed this not unluorativo profession trusted chiefly to mere brute for.ce to carry out successfully their nefarious - schemes. There was, how ever, ono exception to this rule to be found in person of a celebrated free-hooter, known as "Dickey of Kingwood." This worthy openly expressed iris disapprobation of rivals' vulgar mode o f following tieir pao fession, and repeatedly boasted that ho could achieve twice as much by his cunn:ng as they could by their brute force. Nor was this assertion of his empty boasting— far from it. In a few years' time Dickey's name be came the terror of the country side. No farmer felt secure when he retired to rest nt night that his cattle might not have vanish ed before morning. Su cleverly, moreover, were all Dickey's enterprises conducted, that no man could ever succeed in making personal acquaintance with him. lie openly set justice at defiance, nod Lughed at the futile efforts of law to punish him. Per haps, however, the best way to illustrate the adroitness and good luck which charac terized all Dickey's proceedings will be for me to relate the story of one of his exploits. It appears, then, that during the course of his peregrinations through Northumberland, one fine afternoon, Dickey's eyes were glad dened by the sight of a pair of fine oxen which were quietly grazing in a field near Denton Burn, a village distant three miles from Newcastle. Determined to possess thorn, Dickey hung about the place till nightfall, watched where the animals were driven to, and—his usual good fortune assisting him—speedily secured hie prize. Ile also contrived, by the exer cise of his accustomed conning, to leave such traces behind him as wade the owner of the oxen certain that the free-booter made off toward Tweed. Thither he accor dingly proceeded in hot haste. In the interim, however, Dickey had lost no time in "making tracks" towards the west country and so expeditious were his movements that in a short time he reached Danercost, in Cumberland. Liere he fell in with en old farmer on horseback, who being delighted with the appearance of the oxen, forthwith purchased them_ Dickey was of coarse rejoiced at getting rid so pleasantly of n charge which could not fail to be troublesome—nay, possibly dangerous—to'him longer to retain. Tne farmer, 'moreover, • was mounted upon a splendid mare, which Dickeyorith 'his -pe. culiar ideas on the .autiect of mews and Mum, at once resolved by fair means or foul, t secure. Eie.therefore willingly accepted the farmer's hospitable invitation to ac company him to his house in :order that they might "crack" a bottle of good wine in honor of the bargin. Presently Dickey in quired of the farmer if; he would sell his mare? "Sell you my mara" exclaimed his host, all aghast at this proposition. "Sell my mare? No, thank you. Why there's not her equal in tho whole north country!" "I do not doubt it, Mr. Musgrave," re sponded Dickey; "and from what I saw; of her paces this morning, I am quite of your opinion that there's not her equal within a hundred miles of us; but," added the 'obse quious Dick, "since you will, not sell her, I can only wish you a long life and good health to enjoy her." This sentiment was of course duly honor ed in a bumper "l hope, Mr. Musgrave," next observed Dickey, "that you keep a close look-out after your stable door, because now, whore that rascal Dickey of Eingswood is allowed to be at liberty, a man cannot be sure but that any fine morning he might find his stable empty. "Stable! hal ha'." chuckled the farmer. "I think," be continued, "that Dickey Kings wood would find it rather difficult to steal my mare from her stable:" "Indeed! where may her stable be situ ated?" inquired Dickey. "Her stable! bless you, sir!" answered Mr. Musgrave, "her stable is in my bed room! I'm a bachelor, and so every night I fasten her to my bed post. I have had a manger put up fur her in the room, and no music is so pleasant to me as to hear her grinding her corn all night by my bedside. Dickey was astounded—as well ho might be—ut such unheard of precautions: but disguising his astonishment, he contented himself by simply expressing, to the farmer his hearty approval of the means lie adopted to secure the sa fety of his favorite. "I suppose you have a good lock upon ' your bed room door?" wits Dickey's next "feeler." "Come with me, and I will show it you," replied the unsuspecting farmer. This was just what Dickey wanted. lie examined the lock carefully, and soon satis fied himself that he could pick it without much difficulty. Ue, however, declared to Musgrave that it was •just the right sort of lock; it couldn't hare been better in fact; it t•es quite non-pickable," etc. Again the cup passed round, and after draining a bumper to fbeir."next merry meeting" Dickey departed. The old farmer. af,er hid guest's leave taking had been completed; carefully went the rounds of his house, locking doors and closing windows with all due precaution.— lie then, as usual, tied his mare to her ac customed post, retired and was soon lulled to sleep by the sound of his favorite7grind ing her:corn. So the night wore away. Presently, ns the first gray streaks of dawn began to ap pear. Mr. Musgrave awoke, and feeling very cold ....nd chilly, looked around to as certain the cause. To his astonishment, he Ifound that all the coverlets had been taken off lie bed and that his blankets had been speed out upou the floor. For what per t pose? thought Mr. Musgrove. Was he the i ‘l..:tila of some horrible nightmare, or was he really awake? Mechanically his eye giant:ad to the spot where his mare should have been. She was not there! She was gone—stolen! During the night some dar ing thief had broken into the farm house, had picked the lock on the door of the bed room, had spread the blankets over the floor, so that the hoofs of the mare should make no noise, and had thus triumphantly made off with his prize. Of course Mr. Musgrave roused his house hold, and commenced a vigorous search after the thief. It was useless. The despoiler had left no traces behind him, and eo Mr. Musgrave was obliged to return home dis consolate, and to content himself with vent ing curses—neither few nor far between— i upon the thief. In the meantime our friend Dickey—,for his was the deed—was comfortably mounted upon Mr. Musgrave's favorite mare, and was every moment increasing the distance between her outraged owner and himself. So great was the speed of the mare, that by the break of day Dickey felt himself secure from pursuit. He had directed his steps to the eastward, and while crossing Ilaltwhis tle Fell, whom should be encounter but the veritable owner of the OXIIIC he had stolen two or three days before and had just sold to Mr. Musgrave! Dickey knew the owner of the oxen well,, but, luckily for the freebooter, that injured , individual did not know him. He therefore accosted Dickey, and inquired if he had seen any oxen in the course of his travels) similar to those he described himself to rick' as being in search of. "Why to be sure I have!" replied Dickey; "with the very same marks as you describe, grazing in Mr. Musgrave's fields at Later cost, only yesterday. I was fathers struck," he continned, "by their appearance, and, learned; on inquiry, from one of his servants, that Mr. Musgrave had purchased them just yesterday. Undoubtedly the oxen are i yours. - I would-advise you to go to Loner- oleic at once and claim-them. — "Certainly "Pori replied the other.— .•13cit d eartiredowitb Lard wiakiavaptit $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT DT ADVANCE. is a long way to Lanercost. I aeo you ride a good beast. Will you sell her?" After some hard bargaining., terms were agreed upon, the purcha.e money was paid down on the spot, and Dickey and the far mer separated; the farmer to seek his stolen oxen, actually from the very owner of the stolen mare he was himself riding, while Dickey proceeded "where lie li , ted." The next day the farmer reached Loner cost and at onco recognized his own oxen grazing in the field. He forthwith ride up to an elderly man standing nrar. whom he judged to be the owner of the field and ex claimed: "I say, friend, those are my oxen in your field: How may you have come by them?'' "And I'll be hanged replied the other, (after taking a long, astonished look at the animal on which his questioner was mount. ed,) "if that's not my mare you are riding! flow may you have come by her:pray?" Each of course described the person from whom they had respectively purchased the oxen and the mare; and when this was done, they discovered they had indeed been "sold" by a rogue of no common order. So laughable did the joke appear—even to those who had to "pay the piper" in the affair--that neither party could prevent breaking out into a peal of merriment when the particulars were fully disclosed. It was now clear that the only way to eat tle the affair was for each party to take back his own property. Musgrave was of course overjoyed at the recovery of his fa vorite mare and the Denton Burn farmer being equally delighted at the recovery of his oxen, it fell nut that, in the general burst of rejoicing, Dickey was allowed to quietly pocket the sale money of both mare and oxen. Whether Dickey ultimately came to an untimely end, or whether he reformed his ways, nod died, duly "shrived," in his own bed, history telleth not. Certain it is, however, that to this day his deels are "household words" in many parts of Northumberland, and the mention of his name among the peasantry is consid ered synonymous with "cuteness." The Marvels of o. Seed flare you ever considered haw wonderful a thing the seed of a plant is? It is a mira cle. God said, "let there be plants yielding seed," and it was further added, "each one after his kind." The great naturalist Cuvier, thought that the germs of all past, present, and future generations of seed ware contained one with in the other, as packed in a succession of boxes. Other learned men have explained this mystery in a different way. But what signify ull their explanations? Let them explain it as they will, the wonder remains the same, and we must look upon the re production of the seed as a continued mira cle. Is there upon earth a machine, is there a place, is thero even a city, which contain s so much that is wonderful as is enclosed in a little seed—one grain of corn, one litt'e brown apple seed, one small seed of a tree, picked up, perhaps, by a sparrow for her little ones, the smallest of a poppy or a bluebell, or oven one of the seeds that are so small that they float about the air invis ible to our eyes? Alt! there i, a world of marvel and brilliant beauties hidden in each of these tiny seeds. Consider their immense number, the perfect separation of the differ ent kinds, their power of life and resurrec tion, and their wonderful fruitfulness. Consider first their number. Ahout r.. hundred and fifty years ago, the celebrated Linn:cos, who has been called the hither of botany, reckened 5,000 different kinds of plants; and he then I timglit that the 'whole number existing could not 10,000. hue one hundred years 1141 Pr him, M. de Candolle, of Geneva, described 40,0(.0 kinds of plants, and supposed it possible that the number might be 100,000. Well, let me ask you, have these 100,000 kinds of plants over failed to bear the right seed? Have they ever deceived us? Has a sycamore tree over sprung from au acorn , or a beach tree from a 'chestnut? A little bird may carry away the small seed of a sycamore in its beak to feed its nestlings, and on the way may drop it on the ground. The tiny seed may spring up and grow where it fell, unnoticed, add sixty years after it may become a magnificent tree, un der which the flocks of the valley and their shepherds may find.rest in the shade. Consider next the wonderful power of life and resurrection bestowed on the seeds of , plants, so that they may be preserved from year to year, and even tram century to cen tury. Lot a child put a few seeds in a drawer and shut them up, and sixty years after wards, when his hair is white and his step tottering, let him take one of these seeds, and sow it in the groudd, and soon after he will see it spring up into new life, and be come a young, fresh and beautiful plant. Jouaneut relates that in the year 1835, sevral old Celtic tombs were discovered near Begerne. Under the bead of each of the dead bodies there was found a small, square stone or brick, with a hole in each, containing a few seeds which had been planted there beside the dead by their heathen friends, who bad buried them per haps 1500 or 1700 Jeers before. These seeds were -carefully sown 'by those who found thorn. ;, What was -seen to spring from theelast of the dead? l3ekritifal sanattwer*, blue coralfiluerers„.stad 'skiver bearing ,bloat [WHOLE NUMBER 1,686, ' Boras as bright and sweet as those which i are woven into wreathes by the Me — rri"erilr dren now playing in our fields. Some years ago, a vase,' hernretically - ' ' sealed, was found infs mummy-pit in Egypt, by the English traveller, Wilkinson,' ah sent it to the British Museum. ThelibTd- I rims there, having unfortunately brOlren it, discovered in, it a few grains of wheat and one or two peas, old, wrinkled and as bard us stone. Tho peas were planted carefully under glass on the sth of June,lB4 and at the end of thirty days these beeds were seen to spring up into new life. They bad been buried probably about 3,000 years ago, perhaps in the time of Moses, and bad slept all that long time apparently _dead, yet still liting in the dust of .•the tomb.--• Lecture by Peat. Claussen, of Sioib:erlanei. WnAr A VOLCANO C.tx Da.—Cutopazi, 1733, threw its firy rockets 3000 feet above its crater; while in 1751, the binning mass,, struggling fur an outlet, roared so that Its awful voice was heard a dist ,nee of more than six hundred miles. In 1702 the crater, of Tungaragna, one of the great peaks of the Andes flung out torrents of mud, which, dammed up rivers, opened new lakes, and in valleys of 1000 feet wide made deposites of 03 feet deco. The btreara from Vesuvi us, which in 1337 passed through Torre del Greco, contained 33,990,000 cubic feet of solid matter; and in 1793, when Torre del Greco was destroyed a second time, the mass of lava atnoanted to 43,030,090 eishici - feet.' In 1700, Etna poured forth a flood which covered SI sr aro mile.; of surface, and measured nearly 109,003,000 cubic feet.— On this occasion the san I and scoria formed. the Monte 11.39:21i, floor Nicholosa, a cono two miles in circumference, and 4000 feet ME The stream thrown out by Etna in' 1570' was in motion, and at the rate of a yard 'a. day, for nine months atter thr eroption; and it is on record ihat the lava of same mountain, after a terrible eruption, was not thoroughly cool and •nonsolidated ten years after the event. fo the eruption of Vesuvi us, A. D. 79, the scoria and ashes vomited forth far exceeded the entire bulk of the mountain; while in MO Etna disgorged mare than twenty times its own mass.— Vesuvius has seat its ashes as fair as Con stantinople, Syria awl Egypt; it burled stones, el-lot pounds in weight, to, Pompeii,. • ; a distance of six miles, while similar masses were tossed up 2003 feet above its, summit Cotopaxihas projected a block of ,109 cubic, yards in volume, a distance of nine miles;, and Sumbawa, in 1315, during the most terrible eruption on record, soot its ashes as, far as Java, a distaaec of 393 miles of sur face, and out of a population of 12,090 souls only twenty escaped.—Rsereatios Science, • ONE WAY OF DISGRACING SOLDIERS: L- 1U Ntlqh,DlO Union gives an account of a mili tary procession which passel through 'the streets of Nashville on Thursday last,. -ex citing the pity of soma and the derision Of . others. Some fifty Federal soldiers, who had been captured and paroled by tho guerillas, at various times. under ei-ount stances not at all creditable to 11:e prison ers, were collected, by order of Gen. Roie: crane, and adorned with nigld•cups, with red tassels in the centre, and in this °etre. uniform paraded through the streets, to•thot roll of the drum. "and the shrill squeaking of 'the wry-necked fife," before the gaze of admiring thousands, who cheered thorn ost.: their "winding way." No doubt a atria enforcement of military ,discipline would: have condom:tied many of these, soldiers to, death fur their pusillanimous behavior, nG,...Conimissioner -Newton, of the Agri.: cultural Department, has received froni"Dr. A. R.. 1. Von Welibach, Director of the im perial Pu nting establishment in Vienna, a number of specimens of porn., manufactured from the husks of Inditin corn. Also aped mens of yarn, linen cloth, &c., nude out' of the same material; also specimens of maize flour (the only nutritive subsietanco of tho corn-shucks) obtained from the mess. The paper has the appearance (and app trently the durability) of parchment, and fur print ing purposes es excellent, as is alio by some of the samples which bare been thus used—the impression of the type being a great deal clearer than on paper manufac tured from cotton rags. The most remark able thing in regard to the process of its manufacture is simplicity. The hutnblest laborer cam learn the process of nuinufacture after an hour's inatrucion, and is enabled to effect the production of any of the above• named articles in the cora-field itself, with• out the slightest expense.- ViiirA Congressional candidate was thus interrupted by an inebriate; "lkly friends," said be, "I am proud to sec around me to night the hardy yeomanry of the laud, for I lore the agricultural interests of the country; and well may I love tbeti, my fellow citizens, for I was born a farmer— the happiest days of my youth was spent in the peaceful avocations of a son of the soil. If I may be allowed to use a figura tits+ expression, my ft:iends, I may say, I was raised between Iwo rows of corn." "A pumpkin! by thunder!" exclaimed the in ebriateddeo: Sr ViirTl/4.4:tuiscilky:9scri?4/ tu,ppoa es4ba.t :113e - fgEtupep orP9,74C.7ifekilar. - P, i9af)' .about, uze, g1i , 3414 4 1* ppna selpitt . lig =ENO