~t.,1 BAMBO O Editor and Publisher. VOLUME XXXVI, NUMBER 31.1 TIM COLITDIBIA SPY, I mammon FAMILY HER PUBLISTIED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. OFFICE, IN LOCUST ST., OPPOSITE C0L1131.. BIA BANK. -0-- TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. AO) • year if paid in advance 2,50 if not paid until the expiration of the year FIVE CENTS A COPY No paper will be discontinued until all ar rearages are paid unless at the option of the editor. Rates of Advertising in the Spy. lt. St. 34.. lmo. 3mo. tiin. ly. .. 1 sq. tiros 750 5 1 ,21 Zoo 3,50 6,00 0,00 15,00 1,51 ZOO 4,00 6,00 10,00 00 , 2 3•• 34 •" 3,21 3,23 4,00 4,54) 8,50 13,00 30,00 [Larger advertisements in proportion.] Executors and Administrators' Notices, 3.00 Auditors' and A.isignee Notices, 2,00 Professional or buisness cards, not exceeding 5 lines, per year, 8,00 Yearly adrertiseimuits, not exceeding four squares with occasional changes, including subscrip tion, 1 year, 15,00 Special Notices, as reading matter, 10 cents a lino for one insertion. Yearly advertisers wilt be charged the same rates as transient advertisers for all matters not retatiog strietlo to their business. Allcideerlising will be considered CASH, after first insertion. JOB WORK, flaring just added to our ornee one of Gonne:ea 13.1- more m Pngsses, we are enabled to execute in superior manner, at the VOW iMeedi prices, every de scription of printing known to the. art. Our asaort. , meat TOB oursTYE is largo and fashionable. Give pia wad and work Rhall t4peak for itNelr. ~~~ READING - RAIL ROAD. WINTER ARRANGEMENT. (GREAT TRUNK LINE FROM .the North and North-West for Philadelphia, New York, howling, Pottsville, Lebanon, Allentown, Easton, !lc., Sc.. Trains leave Harrisburg for New York, no fellows : A 13.00 and 833 A. 31, and 1.45 P. NI., arriving at New York al 10 A. M. and 2,45 and MAK:i P. M. The above connect wtth similar Trains on the Pennsylvania Rail Road, and Sleeping Curs acooni luny the tirst two trains, without ehauge. Leave for Reading, l'ottsviile, Tamaqua, Al 'nevi till, Allentown. aed Philadelphia at 3.15 A. 111. and 146 P. M. stopping at Lebanon and principal Sta tions only. Way Trains stopping at all points M 7.25 A. M. and 4.40 P. 31. An Accommodation Passenger train leaves Read ing at 6.3) A.M., and returns from Philadelphia at 431 P. 31. Coinnibia Railroad Trains leave Reading at 6.30 titian .V 91. for Ephrata, Lida, Columbia. .to. on Sunday; Lea, g. New York at 7 I'. AL, Philadel phia 3,15 P. 51., and howling at 13 midnight for Har risburg. Cimonotation, Mileage, Season, and Excursion Tickets at roil wed rates to and from all points. SO Pounds Baggage allowed cac passenger. G. h A. NICuLLS. nov. 2 0 V at General Superintendent. -READING AN D COLUMBIA R. R. This mew 12 n I iy naw completed, and in good running order, w tit tir.t-class ntssenger Care, and haring m.ide /Lrrapgenwnts with the connecting road. North an I S path, offers to the crayoning_pub. lid direet and t 1.011411 route, fruitWASELNGTON and BALTIMORE. via York, Columbia and Reading 10 Allentoa n. E 1,41.111,1111 ti NEW YORK., which route for beauty and Sunman . Resorts should be tried to he appreciated. Learn Columbia at 815 n in and 300 p m, make etanacetion. at Lanali.‘ilk, and arrive at Reading at 104 ia m and 4 pm, making connectionw with the Plan. anti New York linos. Leave Reading for at 0 00 it m and 0 2b p m, arra vi tag at Col uml•la at 0 20 a m and p The Steer SusqUeil6Vlll,4 at Columbia is crossed by a Steam Ferry. a NEW BOAT !WAIN the arm: l of Ili a trains to convey the pa , .emters ~ver, the chatav being de'ightful. Pasaengers by the fa.t line wall iliac at Columbia. PRIVIVSY LVANIA RAIL ROAD 4 Trains leave CJltunblit going east, Columbia Ltain, 8 05A. :11 llarrisbui.,; Ai:tonic(Litton, 5 30 P. M Trains leave west, Mail trian, 11 50 A. 31 Harrisburg, Accoinwlntion, O 25 P. 31 Columbia train nrrives, 810 " E. K. BOICE, Ticket Agent. N. C. RAILWAY. YORK AND ‘vniflurrsviLLE R R The trains from Wrightsville and York. will run 114 f01113W3, until further orders: Leave Wrightsville, S 43 A. M. 41 • 810 P. M. 64 6• 7 43 P. 3f. Leave York u " Departure and Arrival of the Passenger Trains at York. DEPARTURES FROM YORK. For BALTIMORE, 4.13 A. M. 9.43 A. M., and 2.50 P. M. For llARRlsntlne, 11.57 A. M. 0.15 P. M. and 11.25 A. M, ARRIVALS AT YORK. Frain BALTIMORE, 11.32 A. M., 0.10 P. M. and 11.20 P. Jr. From HAnntsmina, 4.10 A. M., 9.10 A. 111, and 2.45 P. M. On Sunday, the only trains running are the one from Harrisburg at 9.10 in the morn ing, proceeding to Baltimore, and the one from Baltimore at 12.45 A. M., proceeding o narripbunr. '• J; Z. HOFFER, DENTIST. --OFFICE, Front Street next doer to R. Williams' Drug Store, between Locust and Walnut sts, Cola., Pa. Apr. ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, CoLultni., P. D. J• N. LOOP, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, ;Mr* Columbia, Pa. Office next door to American }rouse. Nov. 19 1894-tf. J. W. FISHER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Odd Fellows' null, Columbia, Pa Col., Dec. 24, '64. H. M. 117011.T11, A TTORNBY Aro COMELLOK AT LAIT 11. Columbia, Pa. Collections promptly made in Lancaster York counties. Cola., July 4, MM. Dr. J. A. E. REED. Late Surgeon of the 155th Iteg't P.V. Ifas again resumed the practice of rnedi icine in Nountville, Lzneaster Co. ___o_ A share of public patronage i 9 solicited. Patient.; entrusted to my care will receive careful and prompt attention. - Pell 18 A. J. KAI:WYMAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. COLLECTIONS Made in Lancaster and adjoining Counties. Pensions, Bounty, back pay and all claims against tho government promptly prosecuted. Office—Locust Street, opposite the P. 0 Bee. P6l. WASHINGTON MUSE HOTEL. Prant Street., Columbia. Pa. - Daman.. Hags, PropriefOr. cuix 4iniutnitia 3=I"Ir....E".IESX'I3X.S. A CURE WARRANTED. Dyspepsia has the following symptoms: Ist. A constant pain or uneasiness at the pit of Vas stomach. 2d. Flatulency and Acidity. 3d. Costiveness and Loss of Appetit e. 4th, Gloom and Depression of Spirits. sth. Diarrhoea with griping. 6th. Pain in all parts of the System. 7th. Consumptive Symptoms and Palpi tation of the Heart. Bth. Cough, with Phlegm in tho Throat. 6th. Nervous Aftection, and want of Sleep at night. 10th. Loss of Appetite and 'Vomiting. 11th. Dizziness, Dimness of Vision, and Loss of Sight. 12th. _academe and staggering in walk ing, with great Weakness. Out of the thousands of cases of Dyspep sia that have used Dr. Wishart's Great American Dyspepsia Pills, not one of them has failed of a perfect cure. We warrant a cure in every case, no matter if of twenty years' standing. Sold by all druggists everywhere, and at Dr. Wishart's Office, No. 10 N. Second street, Philadelphia, Pa. All examinations and consultations free of charge. Send for a circular. Price $1 per box. Sent by mail, free , of charge, on receipt of money. Dyspepsia, Dyspepsia, Dppepsia I, Elizabeth Branson, of Brandywine, Del., formerly of Old Chester, Del., do certify that, for one year and a half, I suf fered everything but death from that awful disease called Dyspepsia. My whole sys tem wasrostrated with weakness and nervous debility; I could not digest my food; if I ate even a cracker or the small est amount of food, it would return just as I swallowed it ; I became so costive in my bowels thc.t I would not have a passage in less than from 4 and often 8 days; under this immense suffering, my mind seemed entirely to give way. I had dreadful hor ror and evil forboilings. I thought every body hated me, and I hated everybody; I could not bear my husband nor my own children ; everything appeared to be hor rorstricken to me • I had. no ambition to do anything; I Pia all my love of fatally and home; I waild ratable and wander front )lace to Waco, but could not be con tented; I felt that I was doomed to hell, and that there was no heaven for ine, and was often tempted to commit suicide, so near was may whole nervous system de stroyed, and also my mind, from thatawful complaint, Dyspepsia, that my friends thought best to have me aced in Dr. Kirkbride's Hospital, West Philadelphia; I remained there nine weeks, and thought I was IL little better, but in a few.days my dreadfal complaint was raging as bad• us ever. Hewing of the wonderful cures per formed by Dr. Wishart's Great American Daspopsiit fills, and his treatmentfor Dys pepsia, my husband called on Dr. Wishart and stated my case to him. Ile said he had no doubt he could cure me. So in three days after I ealledand placed myself under the Doctor's treatment, and in two weeks I began to digest my food, and felt that my disease wits first giving way, and I continued to recover for about three months, and at the present time I enjoy perfect health of body and mind, and I most sincerely return my thanks to a merciful God and Dr. Wishart, and to his Great American Dyspepsia Pills and Pine Tree Tar Cordial that saved ine from an Insane Asylum and a premature grave. All persons suffering with Dyspepsia are at liberty to call on me or write, as I am willing to do all the good I can for suffer ing humanity. EmrzAtivrn BRANSON. Brandywine, Del., formerly Old Chester, Delaware county, Pa. Da. WI:MART : I have been a constant sufferer with Dyspepsia for the last eigh teen years, during which time I cannot say that I have ever enjoyed a perfectly well day. There were times when the symp toms were more aggravated than sit others, and then it seemed it would be a great re lief to die. I had at all times an unpleas ant feeling in my head, but latterly, my sufferings so much increased that I be came almost unlit tar business of any kind; my mind was continually tilled with gloomily thoughts and forebodings, and if I attempted to change their current by reading, at once a sensation of icy coldness in connection with a dead weight, as it were, rested übon my bruin; also, a feel ing of sickness would occur aft he stomach. and great pain to may eyes, accompanied with Which WWI the continual fear of losing my reason. I also experienced great las situde, debility and nervousness, which Made it difficult to walk by day or sleep at night. I became averse to society, and disposed only to seclusion, and having tried the skill of a number of eminent physicians of various schools, finally come to the conclusion that, for this disease at my present age (45 years) there was no cure in existence. Dot, through the inter ference of Divine Providence, to whom I devoutly offer my thanks, I at last found a sovereign remedy in your Dyspepsia Pills and Tar Cordial, which seem t m have effectually removed almost the last trace of my long list of ailments and bad feeling, and in their place health, pleasure, and contentment are my every-day compa nions. JAxEs M. SAUNDEILS, No. 453 N. Second st., Philadelphia, Formerly of Woodbarf, N.. 1. 6 45 A. M 12 10 P. M OMB A Positive are for Dyspepsia. STA& WIIAT aa. JOII H. IWICOCIC 84r& No. 1028 Olive Street, .Philadelphia, Jan. 22d, 18d3. DR. iS with much pleasure that. I um now able to inform you that, by the use of your great American Dyspeptic Pills, I have been entirely cured of that most distressing . complaint, Dys pepsia. I had been grevionsly afflicted for the last twenty-eight years, and Rd- ten Years of that time have not been free from its pain one week at a thne. I have had it in its worst form and have dragged on a most miserable existence—in pain day and night. Every kind of food tilled me with wind and pain, it mattered not how light, or how small the quantity. A continued belching was sure to follow. I had no ap petite for any kinds of meats whatever, and my distress was so great for several months before I heard of your Pills, that I frequently wished for death. I had taken everything that I had heard of for Dyspep sia, without receiving any benefit; but on your Pills being recommended to me by one who bad been cured by them, I con cluded to give them a trial, although I bad no faith in them. To my astonishment, I found myself getting better before I had taken one-fourth of a box, and, after taking half a box, I am a well man, and scut cat anything I lash, and enjoy a hearty meal three times a day, without inconvenience from anything I eat or drink. If you think proper, you are at liberty to make this public and refer to me. I will cheerfully give all desirable information, to any one who may call on me. Yours respectfully, Jon Nil. BABCOCK. pa-Those medicies are prepared onlyby the proprietor. - - _ DR. L. Q. C WISHART, WIIOSE OFFICE IS AT No, 10 NORTH SECOND STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Where be can be consulted either per sonally or by letter freo of charge. They are sold by Druggists and Dealers every where, at wholesale by all New York. mei Philadelphia wnolossle Druggists. risarchu- -AT'et Dyspepsia! Dyspepsia!! "NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CHEAP AS READING, NOB ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, MARCH 11, 186,5 gortrg. Written for the Columbia Spy 0, For a Friend. I=l 0, for a dear, confiding friend, A loving friend sincere; One that kill share my ovary joy And be in borrow near. A friend to cheer in lonely hours, To wipe away a tear; Oh, to my so, rowing.lonely heart, A friend wmild be most dear. A friend to light my path below, And strew my way with flowers A friend to cheer me on the way, That leads to heavenly bowers. Written for the Columbia Spy. To the Amateur Writers of the Present Age. MY VIOLA MAT What though the world your linos condema; Let sages smite, and critics sneer, Refer them back to earlier days, When they were treutod, like severe. 'Tis ordeal through which all hare passed, The gold Is purified by tire, So ye mu,t toil and persevere— Who would to yonder heights aspire. 'Twos nobly said by one of old— When soldier's paus'd mid iron hail, "Pre•qi onward,—'tis our Country's cause, To freemen.—no such word as fail." Thy purpose fled, toil bravely on— With Eagle eye on yonder height, Labor is sure of its reward, And thine may be "the lofty flight." Written for the Columbia Spy The Snow Bird. The chilling storm now howls along Each dreary Winter day, Without one cheering note or song Of birds that sang in May. Though all the choristers of the Spring, Have husli'd their notes onee sweet, The snow bird on her tiny wing, Has come, the storm to meet. While other songsters seek to share With its the balmy grave, It la not 'till all Nature's bare, The snow bird courts our love. Of friendship here, how much alike Are Muytime birds and thee: They cling to us through Su:mules light, But with cold Whiter flee. Dear little bird, who stem= the frown Of chilling winds and frost, Has sorrow by thee e'er been found? Or hare your hopes been erased ? Das some rude band thy nest nssait'd, Reared up with care and pain? Or in deep anguish hare ye wail'd Some friend untimely slain ? Sloth thy fond henie of fortune 11A, Or sit in miser hands, And left you her to toil for bread, Anions these frozen huk? Or has some artful maiden fair, With love your peace destfoy'd, And nothing left you but despair, Flirt] iv;th an aching void? If you hare mixed with woes like these, Cold winter suits you be.t ; For charms of Summer ht ing no ease To bosoms ill at rest; Then with cold Winter's ragin3 storm, Come gently - bird to me, rid I will join thee in thy morn, 'Midst storm and leafless tree NVe•ll through the distant forest grove Weep a ith the sighing breeze, That, like the sung of hopeless love, :Mourn., libretti:lh the kale s trees Oh hie us to the lonely stream, Where whisp'ring mariners low. Say It& and love are but a dream, And frt.:ll.l.lllp but a show. But soon the maiden spring will opo In beauty through the grove, And ever vale and mountain slope Will bloom, and sing of love ; Ton, flout those promised buds, will flee. To cliims that's cold and OM, And leave the groves of mirth and glee For other buds to till But 1, who love the forest deep, When free front leaf and bloom, Will then be left alone to weep, Thoull nature wears no gloom; For Spring, in all its gay attire, With Leta, in very grove, Can touch no chord upon the lyre Of those who vainly love. Tut: MCKNOWN Baltimore, Md origluat. Written for the Conimbia Spy, MARK ROWLAND, —on— A Tale of the Shenandoah Valley lIENTLY J. 110 WARD. Between the Blue Ridge and Shen andoah Mountains lies a beautiful and fertile plain once the garden spot of a noble Virginiaknown as the Shen andoah Valley. Before the war, this region was one of pride not only to Vir ginians, but to all who claimed to be Americans : It has been long noted for its vast number of springs, hot and cold, the waters of which have caused many an invalid to bless the name of the great Shenandoah. Since the war, desola tion is spread broadcast throughout its entire length and breadth—and want and famine stalks abroad in all their hideous and sickening glory. No more do the merry songs of the farmar echo through the woods, and the pleasant chime of the church bell call the inhabitants to the house of God. Four long years of dread ful war has sowed its once blooming fields with the dead of America's noblest sons—and sent cheerless widows and an cared for orphans adrift upowthe land to mourn the loss of kind husbands and af fectionate fathers. To day this once beau tiful and blooming Valley is a barren waste—ht abode only for wild beasts, bats and owls. The winding river of the same name plougbs its course through this wonder ful ravine and empties its waters into the swift running Potomac. And mag nificent as is the Highland scenery the traveller would lose but little in exchang ing it for the stern cliff's and hills of the Blue Midge, which, like a sturdy brother, walks beside this once beautiful valley, from her western to her eastern limits. The very judicious descendants of the famous F. F. V's., were the first to dis cover and improve this rich and alluvial valley, the natural entrance to which is from the North Carolina boundary.— Their farms some eight years ago, were stretched in beautiful garden spots across the Valley from the Shenandoah Mountains to the corresponding hills on the North. They were thus furnished at either extremity, w i ith woodlands and pastures; while the spacious bad between the hills, varying from five to thirty miles in width was verily a carpet meadow. The traveller who set out in the morn ing from the beautiful village of New Hope, to pursue his journey eastward, soon finds himself, by an easy ascent, on the summit of one of the highest peaks of the Blue Ridge, from which position he is enabled to view the surrounding country for miles, as far as the eye can reach) but before him will generally be spread a dense mist, enveloping and con cealing from his view-the deep and level vatic , as well as the lovely little village which lies to the west and apparently al most beneath his feet. If he reposes here for a short time, at least until the vapors are attenuated and broken by the rays of the sun of the morning, he will be astonished to see the enormaus abyss before him, deepening and opening on his vision. At, length, far down in the newly revealed region, the sharp white spire of a village church is seen piercing the incumbent clouds; and as the day advances, a village with its even ranges of bright colored houses and animated streets, is revealed t 3 his admiring eye. So strange is the process of its develop ment, and so much aro the houses dimin ished by the distance,-that the traveller cannot but believe he is beholding the phantoms of a fairy land, or still ranging in thoie wonderful regions which are unlocked, to the mind's eye by the glit tering lvand of the god of dreams. But as he descends and journeys to the east of his position, the din of real life rises to greet his ear, and he soon pene trates into the midst of the settlements and gardens of which I have heretofore spoken. The practical farmers—with fine brick and frame mansions and cottages, sur rounded with evergreens, ivy, box, and thorn hedges, placed near the centre of their farms, with a masterly regard to comfort, symmetry or taste in their ar rangement, are seen on all sides. In all probability at the time that many of these farms were purchased and houses erected theie was no roads of importance piercing farther into the interior than their im mediate vicinity ; we will grant it so at least, and imagine that at the date in which my little story commences, some enterprising individual bad cute straight turnpike road across this beautiful valley, much to the annoyance to its old fash ioned inhabitants; and the wandering tracks by which their farmhouses were connected with this profane channel, re sembled, in their angularities and ver sions, the diagrams of geometry. The hero of my little story is one of th.)se beings of the poorer class—com monly termed "the poor white trash," by those of nobler birth and the F. F.V. :ancestry, Yet he was a man of some means and tilled a very small farm for the maintainance of himself and small family. He was known as one .of the patriarchs of the small village close by, and was well established in the fatt:st portion of this exuberant valley. His ancestors bad been "patriarchs" time out of mind, and the chimney of his pa ternal =esions contained certain minor- Pitons masses, which an old tmditim designated as the identical brick brought by his ancestors from Germany. By this we have the origin of the hero of my story, Mr. Mark Rowland. The dwelling of Mark, covering an immense area, with its roof deceading on each side near the ground, resembling one of those homely implements in New Eng land, 'yclept a hen coop ;ltis barracks, made of four perpendicular timbers, sur mounted by a square, thatched roof, in which he persisted to store his grain and hay notwithstanding the more modern invention of barns; the diverging eorn cribs before his door; the pig pens in their neighborhood; the grindstone, avi ary, and out door oven, scattered round in mockery of the symmetry found oa other farms, all bespoke a man of weight and means, in his position of life, accord to the estimation of the F. F. V's. of that day. His wife however, was of mixed blood; and as a punishment for marrying out of caste, she proved to be a terrible thorn in his aide. She exercised a pret ty decided supremacy in all matters oc curring in her personal presence, for Mark was naturally good-tempered and yielding disposition, and the habit of per fect obedience to her every wish had, as it were, become a second nature to him. The most severe test of his docility was on the occasion of interruptions from his better part, of certain patriarchal levees, which he had indulged in, from time immemorial, and been accustomed to hold at the door of his dwelling. It was 1 his main delight, as it had been that of his sires, tr collect around him, on a summer's eve, those who, like himself loved the cup and a pipe better than hard work. At such times he was truly in his glory. Seated in a large chair, upon the step of his door, with the above named instruments of enjoyment in each hand, he discussed at length the hard ships of olden times, the decay of fine horses, the woeful laxity of foreign in tegrity, and the inroads of the bustling Yankees, to the great edification and en joyment of his subordinate friends, who stretched on the seats of turf or slates, on either side, quietly enjoyed the "pa triarch's discourse and hospitality. How ever, he had become somewhat degener ate. The terrible inroads of his wife had, however, more than once disturbed his quiet, vegetating circle of worthies ; in somuch that his most urgent entreaties, backed by the potent arguments of the bowl, could seldom prevail on his faint hearteu friends to retain their places af ter the clock had tolled nine. One fair and bright summer's eve. surrounded by his obsequious neighbors he had descanted with uncommon felic ity of utterance on the woeful conflicts of their ancestors pith the inconveniences of a new settlement, and his enthusiasm, assisted greatly by an extra bowl, had so engrossed attention, that the hour had passed unnoticed. The startling eyes and slobbering mouths of all around him, attested the unusual interest aroused by his narration. ills wife, 'Mrs. Scorchie,' as - the neighbors familliarly called her, had long since put the last child to bed, mended the last pair of stockings and covered-the few dying coals of the sum mer fire, and was yawning impatiently in a window-seat, for the sessions of so- cial friends at her door to break up and restore her good man to his quiet bed.— But she waited in vain. To such a pitch were tho feelings of all excited by the marvelous rehearsel of Mark, that, heedless of the hour, and the thickening indignati,a of "Mrs. Scorchie," they but drew nearer to the speaker as if chained by fascination. Mark had even risen from his cane-bottomed chair, having deposited his pipe on the ground, in the fervor of his discourse, and was in the midst of a thrilling narative of Indians and evil spirits, when "Mrs. Scurchie," tortured beyond endurance by this_ un reasonable delay, with angry visage made her appearance on the threshhold, di rectly behind the elevated form of the speaker. A.t this alarming apparition, every listener started from his seat, as if the ghost of Hamlet or old Wilhelmns himself had grinned in their faces. Ere Mark had time to shut his capacious mouth, much less to turn and look be hind him, the strong hands of "Scorchie" were closely placed on either side cf his head, somewhat more closely than may have been exactly comfortable for his ears, which organs, notwithstanding their duress, were made to hear the grating sounds; "Mark! will ye never stop short your drunken spoeches,and come to bed!" The sapient audience waited not for any further salutation. Bach one was under way, as soon as the ponderous nature of his movables permitted, and ere Mark was fairly veered around, and marched over the threshhold, not a mortal was left who had not put at least a fence, a bar rack or corn-crib, between himself and the fearful apparition. The shock was quite too much for the obtuse capacity of' pear Itark,and whether the grog which bad given him such a honied -utterance had also, Sampson-like, shaken the pillar of his understanding,or whether the sudden compression of " Seorchies' " hands produced *paralysis of his senses, certain it is, that be knew $2,00 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,50 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCE little of what was passing, until he had been safely lodged in bed,and had snored for some two or three hours, like the boiler of a steamboat. It was the dread hour of night, or as the poet says, " the witching hour of night," when horror sometimes steals aver the firmest breast, that he seemed to be disturbed from his broken slum bers by a slight rattling at the door of his apartment. The door slowly opened and by the dim flittering light of the embers on the hearth, lie seemed clearly to distinguish the outline of a human be ing on the threshhold. It entered, and was followed by another and another,each apparently more horrid than his fellow. It was in vain that Mark tried to scream and spring from his recumbent posture. Terror, like a night-mare, bound him down,with its indescribable yet agonizing he'plcssness. The ruffians cautiously ap proached the bed-side. The dagger gleamed in the right band of the fore mast,while the dark outline of a revolver was seen in the left. In this moment of dreadful suspense, what would he have done to have heard even the grating voice of his wife I But she was slumbering with hearty bleathiogs by his side, all uncon scious of the approaching danger. Alt nas' self was a light burden on Encela dus, compared with the weight at that moment on the breast of Mark At length the haggard assassin,motioning his fellows to halt, approached, and in a low voice, but clear and distinct, said,— " Wretch, I came far thee ! Rise, and follow me !" As if warned by the last trump, he sprung from the bed, stark naked, upon the floor. The figure point ed to his under garments, and these were almost as soon in their proper places. There were no suspenders in those days, and the dimensions of this article at that period made its ready adjustment much less difficult than lacing, buttoning, and strapping, of degenerate modern panta loons. The figure then led the way to the door. Mark followed like an autom aton, and the two attendants brought up the rear. The night was one of those in which the spirits of a darker world ap pear to be reveling in the upper regions; hurrying the moon's face at intervals in dark clouds, and forcing the fleet of winds in cross currents through the mountains and valleys. It were tedious to describe the dark ravines and pathless summits traversed in the remainder of the night, by that triad and their obsequious prisoner.— Not a word escaped them as they pro ceeded on their solemn and silent march. Rivers were crossed on decayed trunks of trees, precipices were passed, and chasms leaped, of such desperate width as to astonish Mark at the sudden agility of his cumbrous limbs. All the horrors of darkness enveloped the forest. Beasts of every prey, startled from their liars by this unearthly procession, howled along its flanks, in fearful anger. A cold clammy sweat ran down the weary limbs of the wretched man. He toiled and puffed, and struggled, to keep up to the rapid gait, and each effort of his exhausted frame seemed to be the last which it was possible to make. At length, streaks of light shot up in the eastern sky, and a ray of hope penetrated the breast of poor Mark, that be might once more see the blessed sun with liv ing eyes. But this hope endured bat for a moment. Turning suddenly from their course, the black, and yawning mouth of an infernal cavern opened fearfully upon them; a sulphurous_ blast issued from its jaws; and, immensely far within flickering flames made visible hid eous reeesses'and hanging precipices ! Mark shrunk back in terrror. "Enter I" said his guide in a voice of thunder.— It was done, and the falling crash of a large rook balanced above, shut out the miserable mortal from the light and from the world forever. Fatigue and terror had done th air worst; exhausted na ture could no longer endure. Mark sunk upon the ground near the entrance,help less and immovable. Still his eyes were open, and the dark glimmerings of the vaulted caverns around him added a ten fold horror to his situation. The de mons of the place Boomed peeping out upon him from their dark recesses; they began to approach on every aide; ho saw their glaring eyes; ho heard their flapping wings, he felt their hot breath upon his checks, and their talons in his living, quivering flesh 1 He ut tered a piercing shriek. It awakened— not the awful echoes of the cave, but shrill voice of his wife 1 The fiery eyes were hers; the talons were her lank fin gers in his hair. "Wake up from your drunken nightmare I You've frighten ed all the dogs by your screaming 1— Mark found himself in bed. Like Ban yan's pilgrim, lay awoke, and behold it was a dream! Thus ends my little story of Mark Rowland—now the hero of the Shenan doah, in the great cause of Liberty and the Union. _Baltimore, MS [WHOLE NUMBER-1,199:. A True Incident. Not long since I was travelling through the Western States, and called on a wor thy man with whom I had business to "transact, and as he soon found I resided in his native town, he had many inqui ries to make about his neighbors and friends. During the evening my eyes would often wander to the beautiful fea tures of his eldest daughter, who was so kind and gentle to the little ones,hushing them when their plays became too noisy and joining occasionally in their sports. But I noticed that something troubled her, for a sadness like dark shadows on the meadow in summer would rest on her face, while her thoughts were far away. After I had conversed with hei awhile, I said— " You seem sad—what troubles you? Has your lover gone to the war?" She looked up so suddenly I feared she was offended, then archly said, while while the blood crimsoned her cheeks— " How happened you to guess 7 But I have got used to his absence," she con tinned, " and the hardest of all to bear is that I have no paper to write him letters he has written once a week ever since be went away and that was nearly a year ago, but I have not answered his last three, and he says he fears I am forget. ting him. The times are so hard in the West that I try to be prudent for father's sake, but it makes me feel pretty poor when we can't afford to buy a dozen sheets of paper. Father was sick all summer, and mother and I tried to get sewing, but there was not much to be found for every one did their own work through economy; then I ' taught the children at home, because we could not pay their schooling; while night and mornings I hoed io the garden and milked the cow. Finally,with our other troubles, our fine cow died; and we felt then as though we had not much to encourage us,but still tried to do the best we could, hoping for better times. I did not. write our troubles to - Harry, but tried tdo - spettk happy and hopefully, foi. I know that soldiers should hear the bright sideif we would have them strong . and brave in battle. I saved a half dollar to buy pi per and letter stamps, but mother lacked just that amount to pay for the children's winter clothes, so I gave it up. I often think, when I see rich men's daughters pay so much for a hat or dress, that they do not know the value of money as the as the poor do. They do not anxiously think of the many things needed, and reason about what is needed most before they part with their little store." How few are there among the rich that possess the courage and self-reliance of this young girl, thought I as she finish ed her simple history ; and Harry has 'indeed a treasure in the possession of a heart so true and hopeful. "Write Harry a long letter to-morrow," said I, " and tell him you are not forga ting him; and here is a dollar for you; remember,Katy,not to waste it foolishly," I continued, smiling, as the tears came into her eyes, and lier voice tremblingly whispered— • " GO bless you for your kindness." I never purchased so much true.en joyment with a dollar before ; and I often think of Katy in her Western, home, hoping that her lover may safely return, and that Providence has a brighter fu ture waiting to reward her noble heart. THE OLDEST MAN IN THE WORLD: —A Wisconsin paper says that the oldest man in the world is now living in Cale donia, in tha- State. Hisuatue is Ja aeph Crele, and his age is one hundred and thirty-nine years. Ile has lived in Wisconsin more than a century, and was first married in New Orleans,one hundred and nine years ago. Some years after wards he settled at Prairie du Chien, while Wisconsin was yet a province of France. Before the revolutionary war he was employed to carry letters between Prairie du Chien and Green Bay ! But a few years a go that he was called as a witness in the Circuit Court, in a case involving the title to certain real estate at Prairie du Chien, to give testimony in relation to events that transpired eighty years before ! He now resides with a daughter, by his third wife, who is over seventy years of age. ' PORK PAOKING.—The number of hogs packed in Cincinatti is estimated upon packers' returns, at 838,000,, beirig . a deficieney,as compared with lift,rascuk of 82,000 bead. At Chicago the packing foots up 750,000 against 904,000 last season, being a falling off of about '150,- . 000. The falling off of the' whole vriiitt will be but little short of 700,000. the number shipped East d'art:li; ' - idsct large deficiency: . . • • • r, El
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers