Whole No. 2554.
A NEW STOCK
OF
Cloths, Cassimeres
AND
VESTS NCS,
been received at the Lewistown
Kaporiura of Fashion, which will be made up
t) order Ij experienced workmen.
jj3Gentiemen are requested to call.
W.M. FIND.
Lewistown, April 21, JdoO.
Removed to the Stand lately occupied l>y
Kennedy & Junkin.
x (BIEL&SSm !£®2ls
SAR&AXITgU
\ Year's Credit 10 Responsible
Men !
The subscriber having now on
hand one of the best and largest
stocks between Philadelphia and
Pittsburgh, in order to accom
i niodate business to the times, offers for sale a
complete assortment of
Suddifs, Harues?, Bridle-., Collars, Trunk*,
tifcip!) flames, Valises, Carpet Bags,
jr.d ether articles in his line, which will be
dnposet! of, when purchases are made to the
amount of 510 or more, on the above terms for
approved paper.
Among his stock will be found some highly
- i-hed set-: of light Harness equal to any tnan
uficturcd.
Let all in want of good articles, made by cx
;cr: need workmen, give him a call.
JOHN DAVIS.
Lewistown, April 7, 1853.
New Fail and Winter Goods.
j) F. ELLIS, of the late firm of McCoy
• A Ellis, has just returned from the city-
Tali & choice assortment of
Dry Goods and GrocerieSj
.iceted with caro and purchased for cash,
which are offered to the public at a small nd
uiice on cost. The stock of Dry Goods em
braces all descriptions of
FALL AND WINTER GOODS
suitable f<r Ladies, Gentlemen and Children,
with many new patterns. Ilia
(tiVoemtM
-ir.. ris - Choice Sugars, Molasses, Java, Bio
Hii'l Lagcy r;t Coffee, superior Tens, Also.
1; ■ 1 and Nhocs. Queonsware, and ail other
Articles usually found in stores —a!! which
i custenters of the Lite firm and the public
,n gncral are invited to examine.
IF F. ELLIS.
Si3*Fish, Salt, Piaster and Coal always on
- y ■
t' aintry Pr- luce received as usual and the
li'l market price allowed therefor.
lowi.itown, Sept. 22, I^oP.
ROBERT W. DATTON,
SIDE OF 3UBKET STREET,
MAVISTOWN, P.l.
| j AS hint received and opened at his es-
Ijl tiibliMu.RV.i a now supply of
Clocks, Watches. Jewelry,
ui lu&ix-hwim
Fancy Articles, <fcc.,
*!::ch he will dispose of at reasonable price*.
invites all to give him a call and examine
"•is stock, which embraces all articles in his
• in9 > and is sufficiently large to enable all to
make selections who deoire to purchase.
fIfiCKKPAIRIXG neatly and expeditiously
stteaded t •. and all work warranted,
fbankful for the patronage heretofore re
ave j, be respectfully asks a continuance of
■ c v sm, and will endavor to please all who
r.:sy ftror him with their custom. feb'2
EDWARD FRYSINGER,
WHOLESALE DEALER * tTAM FA(TI RLK
fiHiiiroioMm,
&c., &c.,
Orders promptly attended to. jelG
JNO. R. WEEKES,
Justioe of the Peace,
Scrtbcurv 5? Surfcruor,
01 TIC L W est Market street, Lewistown, next
<ioor to Irwin's grocery. an 23
REMOVAL.
S. S. CTJaZBXZNGS
IW i>egs leave to announce that he has re
••moved hi* office to Mrs. Mary Marks' 1
nig and V ariety Store, on east Market street,
* p r * t>el °vv the Union House.
he i ost Office has also been removed to the
•wwdlact. nib3l If
Wanted! Wanted!
](j ( iTIO of both sexes to j
f make money by buying cheap
Jfooeries, Baskets, Tubs, Buckets, Chums,
a Cans, Brooms, Brushes, &c. &c. at
ZERBE'B.
p, TUE BALTIMORE AMEBIC AT,
<*lthd dallv, tri weekly and wekly, by Dvb'tin SL
Dai> *1""' 128 ® a "i'nor<i street, Baltimore, Md
Hf o . P*'snntim, ft for 8 months, #3 for S inontim,
o Tr ' weekly $i per annum, #3 for nioe
y-j *'* tnonth*, and #1 for thre raonib*.
•sstit'n "t' 1 '"" p,ean u pubtiahed at #1 40 per annum,
K is. four to P'ea #5, eight copiee 10, fourteen
'> W fo, tn adTmTICC
ipi&iSj-itufcß ASSIJS ®-sr ®a®iE(Bis :ra , ars2ss®2sa sbhhhuisj SSW) S>A #
THE ffiIHSISEE.
PARE TREE WELL, KITTV DEAR
I saw the sruilej, of evening die,
In beauty on a southern sky,
And as I marked that fairy scene
i So mild, so lovely aud serene.
A strange wild sound, yet sweet aud clear,
In tones like these I chanc'd to hear—
Fare thee well, Kitty dear,
Thou art sleeping in thy grave so low.
Never more, Kitty dear,
Wilt thou listen to my old ban'o.
Fare thee well Kitty, &o.
Though A Trie's son that strain awolic,
A language to my sou! it spoke.
That seem'd my restless thought to quel!,
And held me captive to its spell;
How much of feeling deep and strong
Was blended with that artless song.
Fare thee well, Kitty dear, Ac.
Though years since then have rolled away,
The echo of that simple lay.
Comes o'er me when with care oppress'd,
And soothes my troubled heart to rest;
Nor will J till my latest hour
Forget the magic of its power.
Fare thee well Kitty dear, Ac.
'IIIT* Y MI. I > A FREE LAND.'
Make tne n grave where'er you will,
i In a lowly plain or a lofty hill;
j Make it among earth's humblest graves,
i Dut not in a land where men are Slaves.
J I could not rest, if round my grave
I heard the steps of a trembling Slave;
His shadow above my silent tomb
! Would make it a place of fearful gloom.
1 could not sleep If I heard the tread
Of a caffle gang to the shambles led;
And the mother's shriek of wild despair
> Disc, hke a ce.rse on the trembling air.
i I could not rest, if 1 saw the lash
Drinking her blood at each fearful gash,
And if I saw her babes torn from her breast,
Like trembling doves from their parent nest. ""
I I'd shudder and start, if I heard the bay
Of a blood hound seizing his human prey:
, And I heard the captive plead in vain,
As they bound afresh his galling chain.
I If I saw young girls from their mother's arms
j Bartered aud sold for their youthful charms,
• My eye would flash with a mournful flame—
j My death-paled cheek grow red with shame.
I would sleep dear friend- when blooded might
: Can roh no man of his dearest right:
My re.- t shall he calm in any • ravo
W'h re none can eall his brother a Slav*.
i I ask no monument proud and high,
■ To arrest the gaze of pass r- by;—
; All that my yearning spiri. raws,
Is bt;ry tilt toiin a I.a-. l <■/ ,V . .
\. D. STEVENS.
Cl.arl-vtown Jail, Va., March 14th, W \
i
j J lis Bible —Out of the Bible have
j come all pure moralities. From it have
i sprung all sweet charities. It has been the
motive power of regeneration and reforma
tion to millions of men. It has comforted
tho humble, consoled the mourning, sus
tained the suffering, aud given trust and
triumph to the dying. The wise old man
has fallen asleep with it folded to his breast.
The simple cottager has used it for his dy
ing pillosv; and even the innocent child
has breathed his last happy sigh with fin
gers between its promise-freighted leaves.
Use of Sorrow and Mhfor une. —lt is
but rarely, in the present day, that a fcpa
i ration takes place in the mind between the
, things which are of the world, and the
, things which are of heaven, except by
means of sorrow and misfortune. Grief
: and trouble on account of natural things—
j as for the loss of friends, wealth, or a good
1 reputation—turn the thoughts despairingly
away from earth, and hopefully toward he iv
j en. If, then, divine truths from the Word,
i or by instruction from parents, preachers
and teachers, havo been stored up in the
memory from childhood, the Lord, by means
of these can lift the suffering soul out of
• its natural trouble up into a region of spir
i itual peaco, and thus bring to it a living
I consciousness of heavenly joy.
While in the enjoyment of natural good
| things, avc cannot be made to comprehend
| the higher delights attendant on the pos
session of spiritual riches. We do not rise
; into their apprehension. And so, in order
to draw heavenward his beloved children,
the good Father of us all, lays upon us, in
love, the rod of chastening; and in the
pain that follows, comes to us with 'heal
ing on his wings.'
Look Chu. —Young man! A misstep
may destroy you. One sin may ruin your
character. Did you over reflect on the con
sequences of a sudden indulgence in vice?
The best men have fallen, through the sug
gestion of another. How careful you
should be while in the freshness of your
days, lest a blight fall on you forever. If
invited to places of resort, where it is diffi
cult to decide, take the safe course, stay
away and save your roputation. This is a
jewel of inestimable value too precious to
be put in jeopardy. No man ever regrets
that he kept aloof from temptation, and to
the close of his life he expresses joy that
be was saved from the path of shame, by
gyving a decided negative, when the voice
of pleasure beckoned him on. Be decided
and you are safe. Yield and you may be
lost. Watch with diligence and guard ev
ery avenue through which sin may reach
you. In no other way will you be sure to
overcome the evils of the world.
wm&Mmm.
LEGEND OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
A short time before the purchase of the
•lowa country' from the Sacs and Foxes, a
man named Pierre Leelerc, of French pa
rentage, removed down the river from Du
buque, and settled with his family in the
adjoining county, where the little town of
Sabula, has since risen. Many years before
i he had discoverd a young Sac warrior lv-
I ing wounded, and almost dying in the un
derbrush. He had met with a serious ac
i eident while hunting, and but for timely
assistance would have died in solitude and
suffering. Leelerc took him to his home
and carefully tended him until he coulu re
join his tribe, which kindness had been re
turned with a devoted and lasting friend
j ship; and he had never failed to visit his
preserver with valuable presents of fur and
deer skins every year from that time.
But now a period had arrived when the
Indian (a chief of his tribe) must bid fare
i well forever, and he sought his new home
; for that purpose. lie was moody and sor
j rowful, and gave utterance to many a bitter
J and revengeful expression against the Amer
icans, unwilling to admit the justice of a
i mutual treaty. ' White man tfiinks there
are treasures beneath our hunting grounds,'
, said he, while a fierce and malignant expros
-1 sion overspread his features; • he will dig
! up our hunting grounds to find bullets to
| shoot down our warriors and our red deer,
' and will drive war upon us, and our wig
j warns Will be no more spread 011 these
meadows.' Leelerc endeavored to pacify
1 has Indian . ituJ, who bv. bec.me
j more calm, and informed hjm that he was
' the possessor of a very important secret,
and that if Leelerc would promise never to
■ divulge it, and submit himself to his guid
ance, he would confide it to him. The
: man had sufficient confidence ui the Indian
j chief to make the required promise and
. yield himself up into his power. lie was
, told he must be blindfolded and go vrhere
; ever the chief would lead him, immediate
ily after sunset. Leelorc, therefore, pcrmit
i ted bandages to be bound carefully over
his eves, and was conducted to the river
j and iiito a canoe, wineh, after many circui
-1 tous twists and turns, was rowed steadily on
i for several hours and then turned sudden
i ly this way and that before stopping, in or
j clcr, as Leelerc conjectured, to more effec
■ tualiy disguise the direction they had taken.
! lie was carefully conducted on shore, and
j led along a rough and tangled path, break
| ing through trees and bushes to effect their
j progress. After several minutes of this
■; uncertain course, he had to crawl on his
hands and knees through a narrow passage
which seemed like a low, damp cave, for
some distance, his companion urging him
on, until at last he was bid to stand upright,
and the bandage was removed from his
I eyes.
I To the astonishment of Leelerc, he found
| himself in tutai darkness, shut out from
| stars and sky—not a ray of light was dis
i eernable. lie spoke, and his voice resoun
ded on all sides, rolling along from echo to
! echo, like the rumbling of distant thunder,
j A cold chill ran through his frame, and
I his faith in his Indian fricud was well nigh
failing. Had he inadvertently provoked
his ire? and was he brought there to per
ish alone? But the brave Sac warrior was
in the meantime producing a light, and
setting fire to a heap of dry rubbish he had
collected on the way. behold! what won
ders were revealed to Leelerc. He found
himself in a vast vault of glittering crys
tals. High up above his head, around on
all sides as far as the remotest glimmer of
light could reach, glittering crystals of pure
lead packed in every direction. Bright and
j smooth, like millions of little mirrors, shone
the metal. 4 Behold the treasure that lies
buried beneath our wigwams,' exclaimed
the Indian; 'but the Sac warrior only knows
his cave, and he will never tell the white
man the riches of our hunting ground.'
Leelerc was permitted to ramble at will,
t and thoroughly convince himself of this
buried wealth, while the chief dragged in
more branches to heap on the fire; but no
information could be elicited, not one hint
as to the locality could be drawn from him.
Aud when at length the astonishment of
Pierre had abated, and his vision satiated
with the beauty of this subterranean pal
ace, the bandages were replaced over his 1
eyes, and he was reconducted, on hands and
knees, along the craggy paths to the canoe;
and after a repetition ol the same decep
tive turnings, and five or six hours of steady
rowing, he landed, taken to his home
and once more restored to the privileges of
sight.
On his death bed, Pierre Leelerc reveal
ed the secret to his son, who subsequently
spent upwards of two years in exploring
the banks of the Mississippi on each side
within thirty miles of the spot where lie J
dwelt; but in vain. This treasure is still ,
a buried secret. That it exists, is a well
known fact in that neighborhood; and who j
can foretell the circumstance that may |
sooner or later bring it to light ?
This cave is supposed to be of galena, or
sulphuret of lead, whose crystals are in
cubes presenting a bright smooth surface.
The existence of load throughout that re
gion, extending far beyond the mining dis
tricts, is frequently detected. Its presence
is also indicated by the 'lead plant' of bob
THURSDAY, APRIL 5, 1850.
' anists, atnerphacanescens,' which is found
j in great quantities for many miles in the
vicinity of the Mississippi; but whether
this one mysterious cavern will be ever re
j vealed or not, belongs only to the future
annals of time. The leveling for a road,
( or the foundation of a building; the a<rri
: culturist, or naturalist in his researches;
may in a moment discover it; or, on the
contrary, the hardworking farmer may even
now Le partaking of his daily meals over
; his unsuspected riches—the storms of win
] tcr and debris of years having long since
choked up all access to it; or the founda
-1 tions of a future city may have already cut
! off its discovery for ages, and man is pur
suing his daiiy toil to amass a fortune for
I his family, every hour tramping over and
: o\"? r the very spot where wealth incalcula
ble lies buried.
[From the New York Pout.J
NEW FOOTFALLS FROM ANOTH
ER WORLD.
For several days past there has been a
i bit of personal gossip afloat up-town which,
j as in similar instances, has been highly ex
j aggerated. Yet even allowing lor these
| exaggerations, the facts of the suppositions
' —which-ever they be—as related bv one
I ot the principal actors, are of themselves
strange enough to satisfy the most inveter
ate admirer ol the marvelous ; and as the
i story lias been solemnly asseverated before
a mixed company ol some twenty persons,
and afterwards retailed and repeated so
much as to be almost a town talk, we arc
committing no impropriety, we trust, in
stating the circumstances, as fur as we have
; been al.o to discover them.
The numerous literary persons and oth
' crs who frequent the spacious halls of the
Astor library will be interested, therefore,
; in learning that their favorite retreat is
| haunted. Of course, on seeing the com
fortable, well-lighted rooms in the day time,
when filled with careful readers, and en
livened often b}' the presence of gaily dres
sed ladies and other visitors, nothing seems
| more preposterous than the idea of ghosts.
Cut let the reader imagine these wide halls
. as they arc at night,swathed in darkness, the
gloomy alcoves casting yet deeper and
| gloomier shadows—when a foot-fall rever
berates through the wide expanse with mys
j terious echoes, anu when the lamp borne
by the startled explorer along tortuous pas
sages and among musty tombs send but a
feeble ray, that scarcely serves to make the
d;:r! ness visible, and the aspect is very dif
ferent. At this time the Astor library
and for that matter, all large libraries at
| such a time—is a rather dismal place, and
suggests, unpleasantly enough, to anv one
who may be there alone, Hood's lines:
j "(for nil tlior.. hung a shadow and a foar,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted.
Which . aid. as plain as whisper i:i the ear.
The place is haunted."
It was at such a time, in such a place,
' and to one lonely explorer, that the j
i ghost of the Astor Library appeared.
To understand the circumstances of this
| remarkable apparition the more fully,
' the reader should remember that Dr. Cogs- ;
well, the efficient librarian, has been fur j
some time engaged in the compilation of a 1
; complete catalogue of the library. Al-
I though over a year since it was commenc- S
j ed, the work has only reached to the letter <
P. Dr. Cogswell is an unmarried man,!
and occupies a sleeping apartment in the ;
upper part of the library, the janitor resid
ing in the basement. It is the rule of the j
library to dismiss visitors at sunset, and '
during t.he evening and night no individ- '
ual besides Dr. Cogswell and the janitor !
and his family remain in the building,
j Against the advice of his friends, Dr. :
| Cogswell devotes hours of night that should i
j be given to repose, to the pursuance of his i
work on the catalogue. Naturally anxious
to hasten forward its completion and fired
with all the enthusiasm of a professed bi
bliopole, his labors in this tedious and dif
ficult task are almost incredible. At the
same time the work is of that dry, statisti
cal character which is bv no means sug-
I gestive of fanciful apparations, nor is the
indefatigable compiler a man easily swayed
by the passing delusions of the eye or
brain.
Some two weeks ago Dr. Cogswell was
at work as usual on the catalogue. It was
about eleven o'clock at night, and having i
occasion to refer to some books in a distant j
part of the library, he left his desk, took
liis candle, and, as he had often done be
fore, pursued his course among the wind
ing passages toward the desired spot. But
on reaching it, while in an alcove in the
southwestern part of the older portion of
the building, lie was startled by seeing a
man, respectably dressed in citizen's clothes, :
surveying a shelt of books. The doc
tor supposed it to be a robber who had se
creted himself for the purpose of abstract
ing some of the valuable works in the li
brary; after stepping back behind the par- j
tition for a moment, he again moved can- !
tiously forward, to catch a glimpse of the
individual's face, when to his surprise he I
recognized in the supposed robber the fea
tures oi a physician, (whose name we for- j
bear giving) who had lived in the imme
diate vicinity of the library, and who had
died some six years ago ! It should be
borne in mind that this deceased person i
was a mere actual acquaintance of Doctor |
Cogswell, not an intimate friend, and since j
his death Doctor Cogswell had not thought
of him
But the apparition was in the presence
,of a man not easily scared. The librarian,
| so far from fainting or shrieking, as might
! reasonably be expected, calmly addressed
| the ghost:
• Dr. said iic, 4 you seldom if ever
visited this library while living. Why do
i you trouble us now when dead?'
j Perhaps the ghost did not like the sound
! of a human voice; anyway, it gave no an
! swer, but disappeared.
The next day Mr. Cogswell thought over
I the matter, attributed it to some optical de
i lusion, and in the evening proceeded with
; his work as usual. Again he wished to re
; for to some books, and again visited the
' southwestern alcove. There again, as large
:as life was the ghost, very calmly and
; placidly surveying the shelves. Mr. Cogs
j well again spoke to it :
'Dr. ,'said he, 'again I ask you,
' you, who never visited the library
• while living, trouble it now when dead ?'
A"".'tin the ghost vanished, and the un
p ...
I daunted libi'gvian pursued his task without
interruption. The sext day he examined
the shelves before which the apparition had ,
• been sec-n .standing, and by a singular eo
iueidence found that they were filled with
books devoted to demonology witchcraft,
magic, spiritualism, Ac Some ol these
| books are rare tomes, centuries old, writ-
I ten in Latin, illustrated with quaint dia
! grams, and redolent of mysticism, while on
j the next shelves are their younger breth- '
I rcn, the neat, spruce works of modern spir
j itualist of Brittan, Davis, Edmonds, and
others. The very titles on these myrtle I
j books are suggestive. They are the Proph- ;
j ecies or Prognostications of Michul Nos- !
: tradamous, a folio published in London in
j 1072; Albamasar de Conjectionihus ; Ker- I
tier's Majikon ; Godwin's Lives of the Ne
cromancers; Glanvil on Witches and An- .
I paritions; Cornelius Agrippa; Bodin's
Demonomauia; Lilly's Astrology and oth- !
ers, a perusal of any of which would ci
; fectually murder the sleep of a person of
| ordinary nerve for at least half a dozen
! nights. It was these volumes that appear- .
ed to attract the apparition.
The third night Mr. Cogswell, still de- j
i tcrmined that the shade, spirit, delusion, I
or effect of indigestion—whatever it might J
! be—should not interfere with his duties, j
i aaain visited the various books to which to i
refer to, and when occasion demanded did j
not fail to* approach the mystic alcove, j
' There again was the apparition, dressed 1
I precisely as before, in a gentleman's usual i
; costume, as natural as life, and with a hand i
I raised, as if about to take down a book,
j Mr. Cogswell again spoke:
j ' Dr. he boldly, 'this is the •
; third time I have met you. Tell me if any j
iof this class of books now disturb you ? If !
they do, I will have them removed.'
Put the ungrateful ghost, without ac
knowledging this accommodating spirit on i
the part of his interrogator, disappeared.
Nor has it been seen since, and the librarian I
has continued his nightly researches with
out interruption
A few days ago, at a dinner party at the ;
liouao of a well known wealthy gentleman,
Mr. Cogswell related the circumstances as i
above recorded, as nearly as we can leavn <
| As some eighteen or twenty persons were i ,
i present, the remarkable story of course was j
! soon spread about. A number of literary men, ,
including an eminent historian and oth- !
j ers, heard the recital, and though they at- j :
tribute Mr. Cogswell's ghost seeing to the
strain and tension of his nerves during his j 1
too protracted labors at the catalogue, they
yet confess that the story has its remark- ;
able phases. Both Mr. Cogswell and the
deceased physician were persons of a prac
tical turn of mind, and always treated the i
| marvelous ghost stories sometimes set afloat, j
1 with deserved contempt. And, as they i
were not at all intimate, it will be at least i
a curious question for the psychologist to
determine, why the idea of this deceased j
gentleman should come to Mr. Cogswell's j
brain and resolve itself into an apparition, !
when engaged in dry, statistical labors, j
I which should effectually banish all thoughts j
t of the marvelous.
I Acting on the advice of several friends,
; Mr. Cogswell is now absent on a short trip 1
to Charleston, to recuperate his energies.
, His indefatigable industry, his devotion to '
j the interests of the library, and his great
1 efficiency as a librarian, render it highly
desirable that lie should enjoy recreation
and repose, and not endanger his health by
a too close application to his duties. In 1
regard to the apparition we will make no
comments, but give the story as related by
| Dr. Cogswell, as we are credibly informed, I
I and as it has already been talked about in
various literary and domestic circles in this
city. j 1
A new finger growing from (he af.ump of
one amputated. —The Lockhaven, Pa., f
Watchman records a very remarkable phe
nomenon, just being perfected in Lock ha- j
ven. Some months ago, Mr. John John j
son, of that place, had the middle fiuger of j
his right hand amputated close to the j
lower joint joining the hand. The wound j
soon healed over, and almost immediately
a new finger commenced growing from the j
stump of the old one, and in six months |
from the time the finger was amputated \
Mr. Johnson had • new sad fail grown j I
New Series— Vol. XIV, No. 22.
ger in its place, with the exception of tho
nail, which is just Commencing to shoot
out.
Strange But True Love Story.
In 1847. there lived iu the town of
Latidshut, Havana, a voting mechanic na
med Louis S . who had just arrived at
the „ge of twenty-one years, lie became
acquainted with a voung woman, the
daughter of a wealthy citizen, noted for her
beauty, and many accomplishments. The
two were soon deeply in love with each
other, and were liviug in the blissful an
ticipation of soon enjoying a world ot hap
piness in wedded bliss. The matter was
mentioned to the girl's father, who became
very indignant at the presumption of the
young man. who was poor, in asking lor
the hand of the daughter of one so wealthy
!as he. The young man was driven Iroui
his house, and threatened with personal
violence should he return. With a sor
rowful heart, and his eyes wet with tears,
Louis bade adieu to Season, for such was
the young girl's name, and set sail for
America on the 13th of April, IS4S, in tho
-diip Calms. The ship was out two weeks,
wildly tossed on many a rolling billow,
■ when one daik, stormy night, the 27th of
April, .''24B, she was struck bv an English
vessei, and in less than twenty minutes,
sunk to the fathomless depths of the ocean,
carrying several of the crew and about
forty passengers to thai undiscovered
country from wii.se bourne no traveler ic
turns." .Just as the vessel was going
down, Louis S and John Ilersbberger,
who in the voyage had become intimato
personal friends, plunged into the briny
deep, and fortunately got upon a large
plank and were quickly carried far from
the scone of disaster. The English ship
hovered around for several hours and gath
ered up a number of the crew, but Louis
and Hershberger had, in their frail bark,
got beyond hailing distance, and the ves
sel went on her way without them. For
thirty six hours they were on this plank
in the middle ■ f the ocean, enduring all
the liom-ss of anxiety, hunger and thirst,
when they were picked up by the since ill
fated ship, City of Glasgow, bound for
Philadelphi where they arrived on the
Oth of May, 1843. Hershberger hired
with a barber in Philadelphia, and Louis
8 came, on foot, to our neighboring
county of Stark, where he worked two
months, and then came to this county and
commenced work at his trade, as a partner
iu an established shop, lie was a very
line workman, sober and industrious, and
soon gained the confidence of his custom
ers and neighbors. The result was that
he soon had all the money he needed and
some to loan, which he was always careful
to put in safe hands. In the year 1850
he uiaae the acquaintance of a farmer's
daughter, of this county, and on the 29th
of November of that year, he was married
to her. He continued to prosper, and in
1852 purchased a line larw and went to
farming. In .June last his wife died, leav
ing lour children —two boys and two girls
—to battio the storms oi life without a
mother.
News had been taken back to Germany
of the loss of the Calois and most of tho
passengers, and among them Louis and
young Hershberger. The girl, Louis' first
love, was sorrow stricken with the sad
news of Lewis' supposed death, for she
still hoped that fortune would favor them
so that thc-y might marry at some time.
' Hope springs eternal in the human breast,'
and it was this that strengthened theyoung
girl to bid farewell to her lover, and pray
to Heaven that he might safely be carried
over the pathless ocean ; but when the sad
news of his death reached her ears, she
was for many months almost frantic, the
ro>y hue of her cheek gave way for a death
like palor, and her friends feared that they
would soon have to foliow her to the grave.
Time, however, had its effect, and sho
finally apparently forgot the cause of her
troubles. Many were the suitors that ap
plied for her hand, but she reJused them
all. In tlie year 1554, Hershberger, who
was a scholar and a fine writer, wrote a
letter to a friend in Germany, giving an
account ot the voyage, loss of the vessel,
and rescue of himself and Louis S .
This letter was published in a paper in
Germany which fell into the hands of the
faithful girl, by which she learned that
Louis had been saved; bat whether he
was yet living, and if living, still true to
her, put her in great suspense. Her father
died iu 185G, leaving her a large fortune.
In July, 1851), she was in a store in the
town of Landshut, and while waiting for
the merchant, who was engaged, to sell
her some goods, she picked up a copy of
Der Deutsche in Ohio, a paper published
by Ifaby, of Canton, formerly of this coun
ty, and in it noticed the death of the wife
of Louis S . She concluded this
Louis was her old lover, and immediately
she began to make preparations to sail for
America and seek him oat. She arrived
in this country at the house of Louis on
the 21st of December, and on the 10th of
last month they were made happy by be
ing united in marriage at the house of the
bridegrgom.— Uoimcs county (Ohio) Far
mcr.
QA-A German, supposed to bo Charles
Ifyer from Wurterobarg. m torn to pieoa
b J a looonottv* on ItTadnoodaf night