-..... ._ . • , 1.: .1 - t • - ' i ~..,..„ V UL. LIX. THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER PLIOLISHED EVERY TUESDAY, AT NO. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET BY GEO. SANDERSON. TIMM SUBSCRIPTION. — Two Dollars per HIM UM, payable in ad vance. No subscription discontinued until all arrearares aro paid, unless at the option of the Editor. AD VERTIS tMENI S.—Advertisements. not exceeding one square, (I'2. lines.) will be insert-,1 three times for one dollar. and 4 wenty-tive cents for each additional Inser tion. Those of a greater length in pomortion. for PraYriNo—Much ns hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets, Blanks. Labels &c.. ka_ executed with accuracy and at the shortest notice. THE OLD PRINTER. A Fairy Sketch, hut too near the Truth to mak. Fun of. I see him at his case, With his anxious, cheerless face Worn and brown ; • And the types' unceasing click, As they drop within his stick, Seems of life's old clock the tick Running down I've known him many a year. That old typo, bent and queer— Boy and man; Time was when step elate Distinguished his gait, And his form was tall and straight We now san Ire marked him, day by day As he passed along the way To his toil lie's labored might and main. A living scant to gain, Aral some interest small attain In the soil. And hope was bright at first, And the golden cheat he nursed Till he found Thal hope was but a glare In a cold and frosty air, And the promise pictured fair Barren ground. Ile ne'er was reckoned bad But I've seen him smile right glad At traded " woes, While a dark and lowering frown Would spread his features round, Where virtue's praise did sound, If itniert, ti rl • Long years he's labored on, And the rosy hues are gone From sky; For others are his hours, For others are his powers— His days, uncheered by flowers Flitting by. You may see him, night by night By the lamp's dull, dreamy light, Standing there; With cobweb curtains spread In festoons o'er his head. That sooty showers shed In his hair. And when the waning, moon Proclaims of night the noon, If you roam, You may sal him, weak and frail, In motion like the snail. %Vending home. his form by years is bent, To his hair a tinge is lent Sadly gray; And his teeth have long decayed, And his eyes their trust betrayed— Great havoc time has made With his clay ! But soon will coals the day When his "form torso'' will pass away From our view ; And the spot shall know no more The•sorrows that he bore. Or the disappointments sore That he knew. 'l'llE OTIIER SIDE. , A TALE OF BUTTONS Breakfast was just over at the parson age ; the table was cleared away, the chairs set back, and Mrs. Ashton, in ti neat morning dress, with a pretty little cap on her pretty little head, was stand ing with her arm over her tall husband's shoulder, looking at the morning paper. And as fine looking a pair they were as you will be likely to see on a summer's day. The Reverend Clement Ashton was indeed said to be the handsomest man in the parish, and that with good reason; whether he had any ideas of his own on the subject, was entirely his own affair. Mrs. Ashton, as she was called by the parish—Christiana, as her god-fathers and god-mothers named her—Chrissey, as her brothers and husband called her—was not usually regarded as handsome. Her fea tures were not very regular, and she was not very fair ; but her eyes, so bright and clear, her figure so elastic and trim, her abundant hair, and above all, her frank and easy manners, and the expression of sunny good temper and perfect openness which . lighted up her face, made most peo ple think her a very attractive woman.— Every" one in her parish liked her, from the two old people who sat in the warm corner near the stove in church, and al ways came round to get their dinner at the parsonage on Sundays, to Mrs. Dr. Rush, who was by far the grandest lady in the parish. Mr. and Mrs. Ashton had been married about six months, after an engagement of about three years, during wh c7ll time they had corresponded vigorously, but had seen very little of each other ; for Mr. Ashton was an assistant in an overgrown parish in one of our larger cities, and could sel dom be spared ; and Chrissey was a teach er in another city, where she supported herself, and helped, by her labors, to edu cate one of her brothers for the ministry. It was not till this brother had finished his studies, and was placed on independent footing, that she consented to be married. 'George cannot support himself entire ly,' she said, in answer to the remonstrance of her lover : he is not strong enough to labor as many of the young men do, and he needs my help. I know he has talents which will make him eminently useful in the calling he has chosen. I know too, that if he attempts any more than he is doing, his health will fail, and he will be come discouraged. You must content yourself to board awhile longer with your good friend, Mrs. Bicketts, Clement.' And to this resolution she steadfastly adhered, despite Clement's persuasions, and those of George himself, who was very much distressed at the thought that his sister's marriage should be put off on his account. Under these circumstances, the lovers did A not see much of each ocher; and they were finally married, without Chrissey's having suspected her husband of any infirmity of temper. She had suf fered much on discoverin that gsuch was the case, and felt inclined sometimes to wish that she had never been disenchanted. But she was a wise woman ; she knew her husband's intrinsic excellencies and strength as well as his weakness ; and al tering an old maxim to suit her own pur- !Ic . :741ait./.70t/c/t ..1-ittct,itgecit./et:. poses, she resolved to endure and to try What do iyon set about to day V she asked, as Mr. Ashton, having exhausted the paper, arose from the sofa. • Visiting !' replied his reverence. I must go up to old Mrs. Balcomb's, and see the Jones', and try to prevail on Phil Tag gart to let his children come to Sunday School once more. Then, I have to ,see poor Maggy Carpenter, who is much worse again, and if I have time I shall get into the omnibus and ride out to the mills to see that girl Miss Flower mentioned to me yesterday.' What a round !' exclaimed Chrissey. You never will get home in time for dinner at two o'clock. I think I will put it off till six, and run the risk of being thought stuck up,' like poor cousin Lilly.' 4 What do you mean V Why, you know they always dine at six to suit the the Doctor's arrangements. One day Lily called about some society matter, on a lady who lives not a hundred miles from her street, : and was about enter ing, when she thought she thought she perceived the smell of roast meat in the hall, add said very politely : ' But per haps it is at your dimmer hour No indeed !' replied madam, with in dignation. 'We don't dine at this time of day ; we are not so stuck up !" < Poor Lily !' exclaimed Mr. Ashton; laughing, < what did she say V Oh ! she did her errand and retired, of course. There was nothing to be said.' Mr. Ashton turned to go into his study, and as be did so, his foot caught in the carpet, and he was nearly thrown down.— Chrissey started in alarm, but he recovered himself, and exclaimed pettishly— I do wish you would have that carpet nailed down. I have stumbled over it tweu.y tittles in the course of a week, I do I thought Amy had fastened it," re turned his wife, with perfect mildness, am sure I_ saw her to work there. The door must pull it out of its place, I think.' Oh, of course, there is some excellent reason for its being out of order it seems to me that with all your ingenuity, you might find some way of making it wore secure.' He turned into his study, shutting the door after him with rather unnecessary noi,e, and Mrs. Ashton returned to the fire, and arranged her work-basket for the day, with something of a cloud on her fair face. She was not left long undisturbed, for Mr. Ashton's voice was soon heard calling her in an impatient tone. She sighed, but arose and entered the next room, where she found her 'husband stand ing before his bureau, partly dressed, and with shirts, cravats, and handk rchiefs scattered about him like anew kind of snow, while his face bore an expression of melancholy reproach, at once painful and slightly ludicrous. What i 6 the matter ?' she asked Oh, the old story ! not a button where it should be: not a shirt ready to wear 1 do not'mean to be unreasonable,' he con tinued in an agitated voice, as he tumbled over the things, to the manifest discompo sure of the clean linen, but really Chris sey I think you Might see that my clothes are in order. lam sure I would do more than that for you, but here I am delayed and put to the greatest inconvenience, be cause you cannot sew on these buttons ! I think a little of the time you spend in writing to George and Henry might as well be bestowed upon me.' This address was delivered in a tone and manner of mournful distress, which might have been justified perhaps, if Mrs. Ash ton had picked his pocket as he was going to church. What is the matter with this shirt ?' asked tharissey, quietly examining one of the discarded garments. It seems to have all the buttons in their places ; and here is another. My dear husband, how many shirts do you generally wear at a time.' Oh ! it is very well for you to smile, my love, but I do assure you I found several with no means at all of fastening the wrist bands. We had breakfast late, and now I shall be detained half an hour, when I ought to be away. I know you mean well, but if you had served a year's apprentice ship with my mother before you were mar ried, it might have been all the better for your housekeeping.' It might have prevented it altogether,' thought Chrissey ; but the thought was re pressed in a moment. She picked up and replaced the scattered apparel, folded the snowy cravats, and warmed her husband's overshoes, and saw chat the beautiful little Communion service, presented by a lady of the parish, and consecrated to such suf ferers as Maggy Carpenter, were in readi ness. Before he left4he house, Mr. Ash ton had forgotten both his fretfulness and its cause. He kissed his wife, thanked her for her trouble, proposed that she should send for Lily to spend the day with her, and strode away with his usual elastic step and pleasant face. Chrissey watched him from the door till he turned into the next street, and then went back to the fireside and to her own reflections. This fretfulness and tendency to be greatly disturbed and finally to destroy the comfort of the household was her husband's only fault. He was self-sacrificing to the last degree, faithful and indefatigable as an apostle almost, in his professional labors, liberal to a fault, and in his administration of parish matters, wise and conciliating to all. He could bear injuries, real injuries, with the greatest patieuce, and was never known to lArbor resentment. But with all these good qualities, Mr. Ashton had one fault—a fault, which threatened to disturb and finally to destroy the comfort of his married life. If his wife by extrvagance or bad management had wasted his income, and involved him in difficulties, it is probable that he would never have spoken an unkind word to her; but the fact of a button being missing, or a book removed from its place would produce a lamentation half indignant and half pa thetic which rung in Chrissey's ears, and made her heart ache long after Clement had fo'rgotten the circumstance altogether. Strange as it may seem, Mr. Ashton had never thought of this habit, of which, in deed, he was but imperfectly conscious, as a fault. He thought indeed, that it was a pity he should be so sensitive, and some times said that he wished he had not such a love for order and symmetry, and then he should not be so often annoyed by the disorderly habits of other people. He said to himself, that it was one of his peculiar trials—that even Chrissey, perfect as she " THAT COUNTRY IS TEN MOST PROSPEROUS MIME LABOR COMMANDS THE GREATEST REWARD."-BUCHANAN LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 17, 1858. was, did not come up to his ideas in this respect, but that his peculiar trials, as he was pleased to call them, ever became trials to other people, he did not imagine. He had indeed remarked, in spite of him self, that Christiana's face was not half as cheerful nor her aim its as light as when they were first married.; and be regretted that the cares of housekeeping should weigh so heavily upon her ; but nothing was farther from his thoughts than that anything in himself could, have produced the change. Mr. Ashton exhausted with his day's work, turned towards home with his mind and heart full of 411 he had seen and felt. He said very little during dinner, but when the table cloth was removed, and he sat down in his dressing gown and slip pers before the fire, he related the events of the day to his wife, describing with all the enthusiasm of his earnest nature, the patience and holy resignation he witnessed, and ended by saying— ' Certainly religion has power to sustain arid console, under all trials and every misfortune.' Except the loss of a button,' replied Chrissey seriously. That is a misfortune which neither philosophy nor religion can enable one to sustain.' The Reverend Mr. Ashton s arted as though a pistol had been discharged at his ear. Why what do you mean, my dear Chrissey Just what I say,' returned Chrissey, with the same soberness. Yourself for instance, you can endure the loss of friends with the greatest resignation; I never saw you raffled by rudeness or abuse from oth ers, or show any impatience under severe pain ; but the loss of a button from your shirts,.or a nail from the carpet, give you a perfect right to be unreasonable, unkind, and I must say—unchristian.' Mr. Ashton arose, and walked up and down the room in some agitation. I did not think my love,' he said at last, in a trembling tone, that you would attach so much importance to a single hasty word. Perhaps 1 spoke too quickly; —but even if it were so, did we not prom ise to be patient with each other's infirmi ties? I am sure I am very glad to hear with —' Mr. Ashton paused : he was a very truthful man, and upon consideration, lie really could not remember that lie had ever had anything to bear from his wife. If it was only once, my dear husband, I would say nothing about it ; but you do not seem in the least aware how the -habit has grown upon you. There has not been a day this week in which ynu have not made my heart ache by some such outburst of fretfulness.' Mr. Ashton was astonished ; but as he began to reflect, he was still more surpris ed to find his wife's accusation was quite true. One day, it had been about a front door mat, the neat about a mislaid review, and then about a lost pair of gloves, which after all, were found in his own pocket.— He felt that it was all true, and as his conscience brought one instance after an other of unkindness—he sat down again, and covered his face with his hands. But that is not the worst,' continued Chrissey, becoming agitated in her turn, I fear—l cannot help fearing—that I shall be led to feel as I ought not towards you. I fear lest in time I shall lose the power of respecting my husband ; and when respect goes, Clement, love does not last long. This very moment I found myself wishing I tad never known you' Chrissey burst into tears, a very unusual demonstration for her; and Clement spring ing up, once more traversed the room once or twice, and then sat down by his wife's side. 6 Christiana,' he said mournfully, is it come to this l I have deserved it—l feel that I havebut to lose your respect, your love—my punishment is greater than I can bear, Chrissey.' It was but the thought of a moment,' replied Christiana' checking her sobs ;- 6 but I am frightened that the idea should ever have entered my mind. If I should cease to love you, Clement, I should die. I would rather die this moment.' God forbid !' ejaculated her husband, clasping her in his arms. But why, my dearest love, have you not told me of this before ?' 4 It is neither a grateful nor a gracious office for a wife to reprove her husband, or a woman her pastor,' said Christiana, lay ing her head on his shoulder ; ' and if I had not been left here alone all day, I think I should hardly have got up my cour age enough now. But if you are not angry, I am glad that I have told you all that was in my heart ; for, indeed, my dear, it has been a sad aching heart this long, long time. And now then, I must tell you how those two unlucky shirts came to he but tonless.' No, don't say a word about them, my love,' said Clement penitently. I will never complain again if the sleeves are missing as well as the buttons.' 4 But I must tell you, because I really mean to have my housekeeping affairs in as good order as any one. I was looking over your shirts yesterday afternoon, and had put them all right but these two, when Mrs. Lennox came in, in great distress, to say that her sister's child was much worse, and they feared dying; so I dropped all, and went over there. You know how it was. No one had any calmness or presence of mind. The child's convulsions were indeed frightful to witness ; the mother was in hysterics, and Mrs. Lennox worse than nobody at all. It was nearly midnight before I could get away, and meantime, Amy had put the room in order and restor ed the shirts to their places.' Army now put her head into the room If you please, missus, a young woman in the kitchen would like to see missus a minute.' Missus' arose and went out into the kitchen, and Mr. Ashton taking a candle from the table entered the study and lock ed hitpself in. Chrissey waited for a long time, had at last went and tapped at the door. It was opened with a fervent em brace and a warm kiss, and though there were not many words spoken on either side, there was a light in the eyes of both hus band and wife, which showed that the un derstanding was now perfect between them. But I think, nevertheless, that men's wives ought to sew on the buttons. zfry.• A foolish girl of 20 married one of the Sioux Chiefs, recently, at Washington. When she reached his princely wigwatn, she found it a mud hovel occupied by two other wives. For the Intelligencer A SONG EMZEI3 Through the dancing leaflets Comes the summer breeze, Playing o'er the waters. Fondling with the trees, O'er the distant mountain, Through the lonely vale, Where the Pine trees ever Raise their mournful wail Hark ! to the distant music, 'Tis the workman's evening song, Merrily—merrily ever, It shouts on the breeze along; They shout with glee in the village, For the Harvest work is done, The golden grain is gathered, The smiles of fortune won. List! to the joyous laughter, List ! to the words of glee— They dance on the village play-ground, With footstep light and free. Then away—away with sorrow, The Harvest work is done— Let us drink for each to-morrow, For the golden coin is won. On--on go the village dancers, The joyous fair and young, Whose hearts grim care has never With untold anguish rung. On ! on ! they chase the fairest, Now merrily on they go— They banish all but pleasure, All thoughts of long ago. Three cheers for the honest farmer, Three times three for those Whose words are words of pleasure, Who banish all our woes. Then away, away with sorrow, For the Harvest work is done— We'll dance on the green together, For a village maid I've won. The Left Eye.--49. Cahatich Tale. TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN A RICH old man, who resided at the extremity of the camp, quite apart from the rest, had three daughters, the young est of whom, named Kookju, was as much distinguished for her beauty as for extraor dinary wisdom. One morning, as he was driving his cattle for sale to the Chan's market-place, he begged his daughters to tell him what presents they wished him to bring to them on his return. The two eldest asked him for trinkets ; but the handsome and wise Kookju said that she wanted no present, but that she bad a request to make which it would be difficult and even dangerous for him to execute. Upon which the father, who loved her more than the two others, swore that he would do her wish, though it were at the price of his life. " If it be so," replied Kookju, " I beg you do as follows : sell till your cattle except the short-tailed ox, and ask no other price for it except the Chan's left eye." The old man was startled ; however, remembering his oath, and confiding in his daughter's wisdom, he resolved to do as she bade him. After having sold all his cattle, and being asked the price of the short-tailed ox, said that he would sell it for nothing else but the Chan's left eye. The report of this singular and daring request soon reached the ears of the Chan's courtiers. At first they admonished him not to use such an offensive speech against the sovereign ; but when they found that he persevered in his strange demand, they bound him and carried him as a madman before the Chan. The old man threw himself at the Prince's feet, and confessed that his demand had been made at the request of his daughter, of whose motives he was perfectly ignorant; and the Chan suspecting that some secret must be hidden under this extraordinary request, dismissed the old' man, under the condition that he would bring him that daughter who had made it. Kookju appeared, and the Chan asked: Why didst thou instruct thy father to demand my left eye?" Because I expected, my Prince, that after so strange a request, curiosity would urge thee to send for me." And wherefore dost thou desire to see as I wish to tell thee a truth important to thyself and thy people." cc Name it !" Prince," replied Kookju, " when two persons appear before thee in a cause, the wealthy and noble generally stand on thy right hand, whilst the poor and humble stand on thy left. I have heard in my solitude that thou most frequently favorest the noble and the rich. This is the reason why I persuaded my father to ask for thy Left Eye : it being of no use to thee, since thou never seest the poor and unpro tected." The Chad incensed and surprised at the daring of this maiden, commanded hie court to try her. The court was opened, and the president, who was the eldest Lama, proposed that they should try whether her strange pro ceeding was the effect of malice or of wisdom. Their first step was to send to Kookju a log of wood, cut even on all sides, ordering her to find out which was the root and which was the top—Kookju threw it into the water, and soon knew the answer, on seeing the root sinking whilst the top rose up to the surface. Ater this they sent her two snakes, in order to determine which was the male and which was the female. The wise maiden laid them on cotton, and on seeing that one coiled herself up in a ring, whilst the other crept away, she judged that the latter was a male and the former a female. From these trials the court was convinc ed that Kookju had not offended the Chan from motives of malice, but the inspiration of wisdom granted her from above. But not so the Chan : his vanity was. hurt, and he resolved to puzzle her with questions, in order to prove that she was not wise. He therefore ordered her before him, and asked : " On sending a number of maidens into the woods to gather apples, which of them will bring home most?" 44 She," replied Kookju, "who instead of climbing up the trees, remains below ant. picks up those which have fallen off from maturity or the shaking of the branches." The Chan then led her to a fen, and asked her which would be the readiest way to get over it, and Kookju said, 4 4 to cross it would be the farthest, going around the nearest." The Chan felt vexed at the readiness and propriety of her replies 3 and after having reflected for some time, he again inquired : " Which is the safest means of becoming known to many I" " By assisting many that are unknown." " Which is the surest means of always leading a virtuous life ?" " To begin every morning with prayer, and conclude every evening with a good action." " Who is truly wise ?" " He who does not believe himself so." " Which are the requisites of a good wife ? " She should be beautiful as a pea-hen, gentle as a lamb, prudent as a mouse, just as a faithful mirror, pure as the scales of a fish ; she must mourn for her deceased husband like a she-camel, and live i ; her widowhood like a bird which has lost its wings." The Chan was astonished at the wisdom of the fair Kookju ' • yet, enraged at her having reproached him with injustice, he still wished to destroy her. After a few days he thought he had found the means for attaining his object. He sent for her and asked her to deter mine the true worth of all his treasures; after which Le promised to absolve her from malice in questioning his justness, and to admit that she intended as a wise woman merely to warn him. The maiden consented, yet under the condition that the Chan would promise her implicit obedience to her commands for four days. She requested that he would eat no food during that time. On the last • : she placed a dish of meat before him, s:nd said :. " Confess, 0 Chan! that all thy trea sures are not worth as much as this joint of meat !" The Chan was so struck with the force of her remark that he confessed the truth of it, acknowledged her as wise, married her to his son, and permitted her constant ly to remind him to use his Left Eye. MY ADOPTED DAUGHTER. BY M. MARCELLINA It was a bitter day in January. I sat by the basement window, with a piece of needle-work in my hand, but my fingers were idle, my attention being attracted to an old woman descending the area steps. With much difficulty she accomplished what appeared a most painful exertion, then slowly advancing to where I sat, ex tended her withered hand. I have little charity for street beggars, but there was something in the face before me that dissolved the icy crust of preju dice, and my woman's nature asserted its right. Motioning for her to enter, I pa tiently listened to her tale of woe. It was ono I had often heard before, yet I felt it was true 3 and handing her a small coin, I bade the domestic fill her basket, adding, she might become a regular pensioner if she felt disposed. Thanking me, with an unmistakable expression of real gratitude, she passed-out in the snow-covered street, and was soon lost to sight ; and I, becom ing interested in a book, forgot both her and her,story. The following day proved the memory of the aged is not so treacherous as some assert ; for the old woman, trusting in the good faith of my parting remark, presented herself at my door. This time I did not see her, but the domestics had their orders, and she was not allowed ,to depart sorrow ing. As the days glided on, the face of the old woman became as familiar to the ser vants as either the milkman, butcher or baker ; and many little savory messes that had before been thrown away, or left to I spoil, were now set aside for her. One day, some six weeks after her in troduction to the kitchen, she failed to make her customary appearance. Biddy, a warm-hearted Irish girl, whose sympa thies had been awakened, mentioned this circumstance in my presence ; I know not why it was, but all throughout that day the form of the old woman seemed before me, and her mournful voice sounding in my ears. She came no more, and believing death had released her from the chains of trouble, I dismissed the gloomy memory. One morning as I stood in the vestibule, preparatory to entering my carriage, u attention was attracted to a little girl, who was seated on the lower step, with her face pressed against the cold marble Perceiving she was weeping violently, I stepped hastily forward, and before she was aware of my proximity, addressed her, with an enquiry as to the cause of her grief. At first she appeared too much embar rassed to reply; but after a while, she, with a child's confidence, poured out all her troubles. Her grandmother, she said, had been sick nearly a month, and they had not tasted a morsel of food for the last two days, and this was the first time she had ever sought charity 'in the public streets. Here she faltered, and the rich blood mantled both neck and brow. I marked the exquisite loveliness of her expressive features, and shuddered, as I thought of the dangers to which she had been exposed. My shopping, and the rich silk I was so anxious to purchase, were alike forgotten ; and signifying my intention to accompany her home, that I might ascertain in what manner I could best relieve her distressed relative, bade her direct the way. She led me through many dirty streets, where poverty and filth walk hand in hand, and finally halted before a low, dilapidated dwelling, if such it could be called. With an instinctive feeling of fear and distrust, I shrank back, and half determined to re trace my steps ; but one glance from those pleading eyes- decided me, and I entered. It was no easy matter to follow the child, as she sprang nimbly up the yielding stairs. Twice my feet became wedged in the broken boards, and I was compelled to cling to th` banister for support. When we arrived at the landing, my little guide opened a door, and ushered me into her home. The first object that my eyes alighted upon was a wretched pallet, in one corner of the room, on which a woman, with sunken eyes, and hollow cheeks, lay. Hearing my step, she turned her head, and after gazing earnestly at me for a few moments, pronounced my name. It is needless to say I was much aston ished ; when or where I had met her, was a perplexing mystery. A light broke upon me as I advanced closer to the bed; she and the aged medicant ,were one and the same. A look of eagerness overspread her features, and she attempted to speak, but the exertion produced a fit of coughing. When the paroxysm subsided, she called her little grandchild to her, and kissing the child's grieving lips bade her listen to what, she was going say. I would have prevented her conversing, had it been in my power, for I feared the exertion would terminate her frail exis tence ; but she would not listen to any objections. She had but a short time longer to live, she said, and she must not die without performing her duty. She then commenced her narrative. Little did I think how deeply interested I should be come. I was born,' she began, g in the village of N ; my parents were servants on the farm of the wealthy Mr. Gray, a kind hearted man when not opposed, but stern, and implacable to the highest degree to those who would not yield submissively to his slighest wishes. He had but one child, a lovely daughter, the favorite of the vil lage ; her gentle and yielding disposition won the love of all around her. I was her constant attendant, and well did I love my young mistress ; to shield her from her father's displeasure, I would have periled my very life.' When Edith reached her eighteenth year she met with an accident that would have deprived her of life, had she not been rescued by a noble youth, who, at the risk of his own life threw himself before her frightened steed, and seizing the bridle, held the almost unmanageable horse until its fair burden could be lifted off ; then taking her light form in his arms, he bade the servant that was in attendance secure the rearing and plunging animal, while he bore the fainting girl to the house.' 6 From that day I may date the love of Edith Gray and Ernest Lee ; he became a daily visitor. Mr. Gray seemed blind, however, to the growing attachment of the young folks; and when Ernest presented himself before him as a suitor for his daughter's hand, he stormed and raved like a madman, and issued peremptory orders, that on no account, or under any pretence, should Edith see the presumptu ous youth, as he termed him, again.' My mistress, gentle and yielding though she was, inherited too much of her father's spirit to submit to tyranny. In all other matters she had been submissive to her father's will ; on this subject she felt he might counsel but not command ; and when Ernest Lee poured out hi 4 deep love in her ear, and besought her to fly with him from a father who valued so little her happiness, she consented.' I was a companion of their flight.' They were married, and on the follow ing day they received a letter from Mr. Gray ; he forbade them his presence ; Edith was no longer a daughter of his, and lest they should forget to husband the means they possessed, he would inform them of the disposal of his vast wealth.— Not one cent should they ever receive from him ; his whole property, the day after Edith's departure, had been willed to a distant relative.' Never shall I forget the expression of my young master's face as he read those lines. Does he think that lam not capa ble of supporting you ? he shall see that I can place you, perhaps, in even greater affluence than that you have left. Am I not young ? have I not talents ? and sure ly, youth, talents and energy combined cannot fail.' Alas for earthly hopes ; one year from that date, cholera visited this city, and my youthful master was the first to fall.' From the hour of his death my mis tress sank into a gloomy melancholy, and two months after he had been placed in the silent grave she rested beside him. On her death-bed she placed her infant daughter in my charge, and made me promise never to leave her.' I have kept that promise ; the weeping girl beside me is Edith's child. Alone and penniless I begged my way to the vil lage of N , in hopes of awakening some feeling of pity in the stern man's heart for his infant grand-daughter. I found the house inhabited by strangers, and was informed that Mr. Gray had died nearly a year ago. He had then pUt his threat in execution.' 4 Sick at heart, I returned to the city ; I felt that Edith was doomed to a life of want. I resolved to exert myself to find the residence of th 3 fortunate possessor of the wealth that should have been hers, but my search has been fruitless. For five years I was enabled to support myself and orphan charge by taking in washing; but one extremelycold day I was compelled to expose myself to the weather. From that time my constitution, that seemed so strong, was broken, and .at times I was compelled to abstain from wo;k, and finally gave up washing altogether. I procured some shirts to make, and for the last four years I have just been able to earn a mis erable pittance ; but even this has failed me, and I am now stretched on the bed of death. Oh, who will care for Edith when I am gone !' and the poor woman burst into a flood of tears. I was in tears, too ; every word she had spoken seemed engraved on my very ,sonl. How I shrank from those eyes: their very glance seemed searching me. I thought of my stately mansion, and of the retinue of servants that surrounded me there. I thought of the money that had been ex pended in pleasure by me, while she who should have possessed it died in poverty, and was buried in an unknown grave. I thought of her child as she sat on my steps weeping, while I stood there arrayed in my costly robes, purchased with the very money that should have been hers ; but God knows I did not intentionally wrong her , I knew not of her existence, even. I took the hand of the weeping girl and drew her towards me. I covered her brow with kisses ; then turning to the astonished woman, I told her that I was the one who possessed the wealth that should have been her young mistress', but that wealth should be mine no longer. The dying woman took my hand and bathed it in tears ; then re leasing it, she turned to Edith who was sobbing as if her young heart would break. In a moment she was beside her, and fling ing herself on the bed, wound her arms around the sufferer's neck. I felt my pres ence was not needed, and leaving the apartment, I sought a doctor; but alas it was too late, the weary spirit was at rest. Seven times has the earth performed its revolutions, and many changes have been wrought. I still reside in my splendid man sion, but no longer alone ; a lovely girl shares its splendor with me. She calls me mother, and I bless the hour that led my steps to the old rookery in Pitt Street. A GREAT WoOL GROWING COUNTRY.—Har rison county, Ohio, is one of greatest wool. growing counties in the Union. The Cadiz Sentinel estimates the crop in that county at four hundred thousand pounds, which will sell for one hundred and seventy two thousand dollars! This is pretty extensive for a county of but four hundred square miles. PULLING DIFFERENT WAYS.-A few days since there was an auction sale of damaged dry goods, where the bids were spirited, and the large crowd of males and females were vying with each other in their offers, when a pair of, blankets were put up, and a dozen bids were raised for them. The puzzled auctioneer, however, caught by the highest, which was a dollar, from a female who seemed determined to have them at any price, when, ere be could say going, a male voice cried out dollar fifty, from the opposite side of the room. Two dollars,' echoed the womeirelbow ing her way through the dens mass of fe males, who were separated from the males by a long counter, upon which the glib tongued functionary walked to and fro with the goods. Turning to the other side, he commenc ed anew his stereotype vocabulary of choice figures of speech, till he touched the finale. Two fifty,' nodded the man. Thank ye, sir. Going at two fifty.' Three,' screamed the woman Four,' replied the man. Go the fifty ?? said the auctioneer, turning to the woman, with a half-sup pressed smile on his small Bober visage. A nod from the woman. Four fifty I'm offered ; go me five' Come don't be afraid, the're worth double the money.' Yes, and that's all.' 6 Sold,' cried the knight of the hammer, almost bursting with laughter, to Captain Smith for five dollars.' Smith,' exclaimed the woman, what ! my husband !' rising herself on tiptoe to catch a glance. Why you good-for-noth ing man, you've been bidding against your wife ? On, you impudence but I won't have them in the house !' TILE SUN IN INDIA-SUFFERING OF THE BRITISU SOLDIERS.-TIIO Times' Bombay COr• • respondent says: " I do not often write about the weather, but it is at this moment the most important element in the campaign. Fur twenty years no such season has been known. The little rains fell a fortnight before their time, and then ceased ; and the land is one huge steam bath. At Calpee the thermometer in Lower Bengal, within the reach of sea breeze, is 126. In Calcutta, in a house hermetically sealed against the light, and with a punkah going, it stands steadily at 96 degrees. Sickness is all but universal. The small pox is bursting out here and there, half the European community have fevers, and a moiety of the other half only escape the curse by :in infliction, which, though not unhealthy, is even more unbearable—inumerable boils. Io Aiiahabad, out of 1,600 Europeans, hot 900 :11,1 ;it for duty, cud the number of deaths from "apoplexy"—that is, sun stroke—exceeds the mortality from all other sources. In the midst or this there are regiments in which the stock is maintained, ;lull which punkahs paid h.r by the government are forbidden. The Duke ol Cambridge should stop all this by forbidding. the stock in India at once—its use is optional, I believe, 1111,1 compelling the commainling offici i irs td , leave the punkahs alone. 'lin, royal artillery, far instance, are losing men at the rate of 14 per cent. per an num, exclusive of fighting casualities. Again, the men are now dressed in light colored c.,:ion cloth, capital stuff to resist the climate; but their heads are still unprotected. They receive, it is true, a white cover for their caps, but it is no protection, except so far as its color is concerned. Routine and the sun td•gether arc beating us, and I was told this morning that, with all the reinfin - cementEl and recruits sent out, we cannot muster even now 26,000 effective Europeans. By October a third ••f them will be off duty, for though the soldiers do not get apoplexy in barracks, they do get:the liver complaint and iow debilitating fevers. " CARDS. 111 0V A ILLLIAM S. AMWEG, Attorney at Law, has removed his Mlle, from his former pint, into South Duke Street, nearly opposite the Trinity Lutheran Church. apr 8 tf 12 AMUEL li. REYNOLDS, Attorney at C*l Ln•.r. Office, No. 14 North Duke street, opposite the E=E9 Ir . T. 111cPI-lAIL, ArfORNF:Y AT LAW, STRASBURG, Lancaster CO., Pa. mgr 311)11 LDUS J. NEFF, Attorney at Law.-- , 4 1 Wile,. with B. A. Sheffer, Egq., aouth-west corner of Centre .'quire, Lau caster. may 15, '55 ly 17 TAR. JOHN 111 , CALLA.,DENTIST.--Office 1."- IN, 4 Ea..t. King street, Lancaster, Pa. apr 18 if 13 XTEWTON LIGHTNER, ATTORNEY IN AT LAW, h. his Office in North Duke street, nearly opposiL• the Court House. Lancaster, apr 1 t(11 IIkEMOVAL.--WILLIAM B. FORDNEY, , Attorury at Low, boo removed his office from North Queer, street to the building In the southeast corner of Cootre Square, formerly known as Hubley's Hotel. Lamaster, npril 10 QIIIION P. EBY, A - TTORNEY AT LAW, OFFICEt—No. 38 North Duke street, may 11 1y 17j LANCASTER, PENNA IIREDERICK S. PYFER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. OFFICE.—No. Il ICOATs DUKE STREET, WENT BIDE, Lis CASTER, Pa. apr 20 If 14 JESSE LANDIS, Attorney at Law.--Of fire one door east of Lechler's Hotel, East Bing street, Lancaster, Pa. Itsl. All kinds of Scrivenin4—such as writing Wills, 1),..d5, Mortgages, Accounts, &c., will be attended to with correctness and despatch. may 11, '66 tf-17 TAMES BLACK, Attorney at Law.--Of rice io East Kiog street, two doors oast of Lechler'e Hotel. Lancaster, Po. rIEr.T. All business connected with his profession, and all kinds of writing, ouch as preparing Deeds, Mortgages, Wills. Stating Accounts, Ac., promptly attended to. may 15. tf-17 JOHN F. BRINTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, PHILADELPHIA ; Ps., Ilse removed his office to his residence, No. 249 South 6th Street, above Spruce. Refer, by perminilon Hon. H. Cl. Loso, " A. L. HATts, FEMME BRIXTON, " THADDEUB STZVENB. Iv v 24 13 42 E DWARD M , GOVERN, ATTORNEY AT LAW ' No. 5 NORTII Duxz NTREET—NEAR TUE COURT HOUSE, LANCASTER, PA. UT ILLIAM WHITESIDE, SURGEON Vl' DENTIST—Office in North Queen street. directly over Long's Drug Store. Luncvstir, may 27, 18.56 t E3I trr. BAK E R, R : n :I (El , IA, bl 5 removed hs ocot Lime street, between Orange and East King streets, weat side. Reference—Professor W. A. Gardner, Philadelphia. C em the country will be promptly attended to. Apr 6 tf 12 pETEK D. MYERS, REAL ESTATE AGENT, PHILADELPHIA, rill attend to the Renting of Houses, Collecting House ao , i Ground Rents, Am Agencies entrusted to his care will lei ihankfully received, and carefully attended to.— Satisfaetory reference given. Office N. E. corner of SEVENTH and SANSONI streets, Second Floor, No. 10." feb r ly 6 n RUG AND CHEMICAL STORE. 1.1 The subscriber having removed his store to the new building nearly opposite his old stand, and directly opposie the Cress Keys Hotel, has now on band a well selected stock of articles belonging to the Drug business. consisting In part of Oils, Acids, Spices, Alcohol, PoWdered Articles, Sarsaparillas, &c., Ac.. to which the attention of country merchants, physicians and consumers In general Is invited. THOMAS ELLMAKER. feb 9 tf 4 West King street, Lime'r. TOFARRIERS.--Having been appoint ed by Messrs. Allen & Needles agents In Lancaster for the sale of their celebrated SUPER PHOSPHATE OF LIME, we would call the attention of Fanners to this Fertilizer, It beleg superior to all others; and from the Antimony of those who have used it for some years past, we feel author, ized in saying it is t/e bell application. for Corn, Oats• Wheat, Grass and other trope which require a vlgorcuJ and permanent stimulant, that has ever been offered-to the public. Apply to GEO. CALDER b CO. East Orange street, Id door from North Queen it., and at Graeff's Lending on the Conestoga. NO 31. may 5 t f 16
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers