.1 -:.3.7;.: •,,,- , ;,:- , ...,:,:,-. ... . . " : •:. .' •.--- . -- '. - -: -- . -- .',..- - ,::"1: 7 ." , f,"•••• '.-.," •,.:-. = , • ' i : --..-. ...!.... --...;..,..-:- .• ... -..'. .-...-...., ..... . , .. - ‘1 ~."-. ..;:.' .'. - . . •• " ' . ! - .•• : - . ... .-: . -..H" - • .. - .. • - ' , 00 1.111 r I°°( -0/11e . . . . . . , `; . '-• . . ._. . .. . ..- -, • . .. .. . .. , -,-- . . • , . =... -. ... • ' /. • ' -•- • • • . .t 'il ,-: !",: •'. 7 - -.:. .... , ~ 1 ..... . . ,' - 1 .. . ' - • •got .*:•:1 Y 1 - -' - ' . . - . -.. .. . rlf• --- : 1i • , .. • . . . .. VOL. LXII. THE LANCASTER INT.ELLIOENCER. PUBLINEID EMT 111SOLT, A? NO. 8 MONTH DIIKI NZULIT, BY GEO. SANDERSON.. IMEEE OtiltscnuPtuoN,Two Dollars per 11111111 M, payable in ad vanes. No subscription discontinued until all arrear ages are paid , unless at the option of the Editor. Asursainzsxista--Advertlsements, not exceeding one square, (12 Duet) will be inserted three times for one dollar, and twenty-five cents ihr each additional inser tion. Those of greater length in proportion. Jos PRINTING—Stich as. Hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &0., executed with accuracy and on shortest notice. gc A PERFECT MATCH." The jewels dangle in her ears, The diamonds glisten on her hand ; And as she swings along she smirks, "I'm going to catch a dandy man." Hill hat is of the, latest style, He totes his cane with dainty hold; And as he struts about he says, " I'm going to wed a fool for gold." - They come together at the ball, They dance and jig, they waltz and whirl; Her dress is rich, "demnition foine," His purse is lank, his hair in curl. They flirt it here and flirt it there, They promenade and lemonade; " 0, oracky, what a gallus pair," The newsboys shout, "go in and wade." " He is so nice," " she is so rich," He lacks for sense, she wants for brains; Be flatters her, she dazzles him, They sail each other . pretty names." With gouty curse papa says "yea," Mamma says naught, mamma is dead; His debts were large, her puree was deep, The fop and fool together wed. A marriage of convenience quite, " A very recherche affair;'' " 'Cajun the thing," his friends aver, " It's just the thing," her friends declare They live up town, in free-stone front, The balls are grand, the rooms are high ; The beau mode in the conches pause, Before the great palatial lie. They do not love, they do not hate, Their only bonds are those of law; They frequent operas and plays, And acorn the " dirty rabble—ah!" He held the cards, she held the stake, The lead was brass, the trump was gold; A perfeot match, and even pair! For he was bought and she was sold. I RATHER THINK I WILL Oh! I'll tell you of a fellow, Of a fellow .1 have seen, Who is neither white nor yellow, But is altogether green. He has told me of a cottage, Of a cottage on a hill; And he begged me to accept him, But I hardly think I will. Now the tears the creature wasted, Were enough to turn a mill ; Then hie name it isn't charming, For its only common , 4 Bill , And he wishes me to wed him, But I hardly think I will ; And he begged me to accept him, But I hardly think I will. Oh, he whispered of devotion, Of devotion pure and deep, But it"seemed so very silly That I nearly fell asleep ! And he thinks it would be pleasant, As we journey down the hill, To go hand . in hand together, But I hardly think I will. Re was here last night to see me, And he made so long a stay, I began to think the blockhead Never meant to go away. At the first I learned to hate him, And I know I hate him still, Yet he urges me to have him, But I hardly think I will. I'm sure I wouldn't choose him, But the very deuce is in it, For he says if I refuse him That he couldn't live a minute! And you know the blessed Bible Plainly says, " we musn't kill," So I've thought the matter over, And—l rather think I will! THE LAW OF LOVE. Pour forth the oil—pour boldly forth; It will nut fail, until Thou tallest vessels to prove Which it may largely fill. Make channels for the streams of love, Where they may broadly run; And love has overfbwing streams, To fill them every one. But if at any time we cease • Such channels to provide, The very founts of love for tis Will soon be parched and dried. For we moat share, if we would keep The blesising from above; Ceasing to give, we cease' to have; Such is the law of love. • PRETTY MEaG'Y HEYWOOD. A TALE OF CIROITAISTANTIA.L ENTEENEE. On a sombre and sunless morning, iry the month of. February, 17--, the popula tion of the town of Lewes seemed, to be covered by an unusual agitation prevading them. They might be seen hurrying along in groups of twos, threes, and more, all apparently making head for. one particular spot, as if by mutual and common consent they had engaged to meet 'there, or had been summoned there by some imperative or very extraordinary circumstance. In effect, it was to witness an execution, which took place in front of the gate_ house of the old castle. The county jail had not been built, nor for many yeas. after that dismal occurrence. - Hoar-frost lay on the ground, snow hung darkly in the air, like a tenebrous veil drawn over the face of the sky. Anything more dreary, chilly, and shudderingly in keeping with the proceedings of the morn.. ing,.Cin scarcely be imagined. The as semblage, which began with aggregated crowds, grew into a multitude—a dense pushing throng, packed and massed, at last, into one vast human tumuli, as if it formed but one expectant anxious creature; and one could scarcely tell what kind of emotion moved its breast—whether the morbid appetite to behold so revolting a spectacle ; whether pity or anger, or a stern determination to see retributive justice dealt out, actuated that enormous heart. It was certainly not indifference, as the very density of the crowd forcibly testified. The 'gibbet was erected in front of the gate-house. The sheriff's javelin men lined the short distance that led from the gate-house to the platform, of the grim and ghastly doomsman. The hour was at hand. A murmur ran through the assem bly—a thrill of uncontrollable horror—a shock, keen, electric, and universal, was felt to actuate the mass. The door opened —the prisoner, walking beside the chap lain, and followed by the hangman and other officials, appeared—and the shudder of horror which ran through the assembled thousands was easily accounted for. The condemned was—a woman ! A woman, young and fair—comely, to have verged upon the beautiful. Even although her face was as white as the snow, although her eyes were purple; and her lips livid; even crushed, haggard , and wan as she looked,-she could not be' despoiled of the evidences of an unusually attractive face. The brown hairwassitooded up; She wore a garment of coarse white linen ;;whether it was the custom to do so, or whether it was to express her innocence —for she had protested this with impas sioned vehemence up to the last mm moment,' and'was pectin i. 1 1 .1 arm, Tinfalteri4 , volce ° o' alp' 14* man who: was at her tude And who continued to administer' to het the last consolations of religion as she walked, step by step, to the scaffold. For kis .part, the clergyman was even more, deeply agitated than :herself. Her , composure was apparent enough, but it was of a. dreadful order, and might have-been that of despair as well as of resignation. His agitation arose from, two sources—the one was that, in the anomalous 'probability of things, though the evidence against her had been most damning, she might be in nocent. And what a terrible responsibility was that to lie on the shoulders • of her judges and executioners !` On the other hsnd, if she was really guilty, what hard ness of heart and utter depravity did she not betray in .pertusting in that lie, even at the foot of the scaffold she was about to mount The sight was inexpressibly dismal. The cold, gloomy morning, the lowering atmosphere, the chill ghastliness of the tragical spectacle about to be afforded the lookers, on—formed one of those haunting nightmare exhibitions that hang about one for hours,-for days, even after the atrocious c , carnival of the gallows " is passed over. It was evident that the crowd felt an interest in her. A murmur rose, and. deepened, and broadened, as she advanced; and perhaps it - -would have grown into a yell of execration, had she not at that in stant lifted up her meekly bowed head, and with her large blue beaming eyes looked upon the thousand eyes devouring her, with so firm, so collected, but not de fiant a manner, that awed or cowed, as it were, and fascinated into submission. The murmur died away, and the silence of the grave followed. She mounted to the scaffold, step by step, slowly but firmly. The grim official was by her side and pursuing the manipu lation of his infernal trade. She knelt, she prayed, she rose, and then she cast one long, keen, anxious glance around the crowd, probably to exchange a last look with some one or other who would look upon her a little more pityingly.and tender ly than did the stony eyes she met. She was rewarded ; for on a mound there. stood a young man weeping bitterly, unnerved to prostration—her lover probably—who extended his clasped hands towards her. too, was rewarded; for a sweet, rapturous, grateful smile, a smile of affec tion and of thanks, broke upon her thin, pale lips. She tissed her hands, waved them towards him ' and then surrendered herself into the hands of the so-called minister of justice. She advanced a step. She lifted up her head, as if to olaim attention. Breathless grew the heaving crowd ; she was about to confess her guilt ! Clear, calm, distinct, like the tone of a silver trumpet, oame her words 6 I am innocent—lNNOCENT—l declare it in the name of God, and with my last breath!' She was a woman, or rather a girl woman, for her age was not twenty. She was going to be hung for a dreadful and appalmg murder that had been committed in the town some few months back—a murder committed under circumstances of great atrocity, and she was to be hung for the deed brought home against her. But her last words had oome upon them like a thunder clap. In five minutes, the fair, comely creature was dangling in the air, a collapsed, strangled, degraded corpse, and strong men swooned at the sight. Strong men turned white, and sick at heart, though not all—not all. There was one—a young, genteel looking man, dressed with some elegance, though it was of a foppish order —whose face, though pale to lividness, and working nervously, still bore upon it no expression of pity. It was on the contrary, of an exulting character—the smile on his lip, the gleam in his eye ; and as his look wandered from the victim before him that swayed to and fro—a hideous, abhorent and damning sight—to the sobbing youth who stood far removed from him, his smile became absolutely fiendish, as he muttered to himself, We are quits now, my proud, pretty madam !' A third individual may also be indicated —a hirstute, brawny, thick-set, powerful man, glad in the coarsest garb of the poor, yet bearing little or none of those industrial traces which mark the working man. A. bold, blustering, semi-savage air, stamped by dissipation, with its indelible traces, set him apart as one not to be on familiar terms with. He gazed with a blood shot eye on the ghastly tragedy performed before him, from beneath the rim of his broad felt hat, which was pulled down over his brows. Not a muscle quivered, not a nerve stirred, in his iron frame, as the poor girl turned off;' but, as he departed with the dispersing crowd, he stuck his tongue in his cheek, and muttered with a sneer, and in a slang known only to himself, Queer coffins, by— ! Beak, harman-jack,' and then disappeared. Strange to say, also, there were women who looked on without bleaching—who looked on without shrinking—who beheld that ghastly death with some fearful sense of satisfaction ! Envy and spite, and even the stern propriety of justice, might actu ate this, but it certainly was not the less a fact. At the same moment a singular phe nomenon occurred. As the last shudder ran through the corpse the sun burst forth with a rich:meteoric effulgence, and bathed the poor victim's head with a glory that was almost unearthly. The crowd melted away, cowed, abashed, ashamed, as if it had been engaged in some infamous act. Something like fear, something like re morse, began to work among them ; with bated breath, speaking of the ill-fated Meggy Heywood, just done to death in so cruel a meaner, and of. Nor Charley Dean, her,sweetbeart, who had been carried away in strong convulsions land who would be sure to die of a brok;ti heart. Viten followed a long lapse of time— , gesiip - ,,diokayray7- 7 pretty rlkleggy all,. bat forgotten, awl:Charley, Dean, a sad, moody man; hall'gaitted the".place ,atoi had not singe been heard of., . ' WO must now retrace our steps little,,, in orde.r ,t9-show how: thividreadful , eataa,u tropttd had eenie about, and . breoght the, beautiful, thooglf mabiethi to . 'the awful death loft the murderess. , • In an old.-fashioned house, in a kind , largi, turning out of an .old-fashioned streetrin the town7of . LeWesy• there dweltu —,keeping a 803101 eliop l flitrthriving,*u& well4odo 'enough in aril .wly,stuagiul widow, known to the .townsfolk as Dame )Keymer j , and living with her housekeeper,. in feat ' , her, gothlanglyte . Nogg.. Hey-. MilaoE4 l 4 handsome young. 66 THAT 001311TBI 1/3 Tall .16131' Pa 084.1.101118 10131/11t LABOR- 00XILUERf1-.11 . 0/1114203T. 1LTW41110.7? LANCASTER. CITY, PA., TUESDAY:MORNING, 'JULY 16, 1861. woman, whose comliness brought her as many suitors as envious rivals. Of a sweet and genial temper, she conducted herself with a propriety" and modesty, against which the breath of slander never ventured to direct its shafts; though she was sought after by the humbler town gullants, and not by a - few of the eg better class " of the youths of Lewis. Merry and light-hearted, she treated these flatterers in a manner that was, in every respect, creditable. Mirthful, with out levity, Meggy Heywood knei how to reply to, or repudiate, any advances ; and if one more presumptuous than another ventured to presume upon a frank &miff! ! arity, she possessed the art of making him s keep his distance,' and of g knowing his place,' in a very uncommon degree. Bat for all this, it was not fated that Meggy should. escape the inevitable shaft of love. Some suitor, it was clear, she must accept, not only because, like every other pretty girl, she had possibly no valid objection to a sweetheart ; but, because, having once decided upon accepting one, it would relieve her from much annoyance she was subjected to; and the fact once known that she had made her choice, would be a sufficient signal for others to hold off. Once appropriated, she would have a protector, and her choice was ac cordingly made. Not all at once, though. Meggy was neither rash nor wilful. If she had any secret leaning, any latent sentiment to wards one over another—any hidden pref erence—she did not exhibit it at once.— Among the number who made advances, under honorable pretences, was a young spark, son of,an opulent tradesman in the town, who, on the strength of his better dress, rumored means, extravagant habits, and other characteristics of a fast young dandy, at last became her torment, her pest and bane. Dame Keymer herself could not keep her patience at seeing Mr. Francis Palmer entering her little shop, morning, noon and eve, and under the pre tence of purchasing some trifle or other, seeking every opportunity of ingratiating himself with pretty Meggy. It would become town-talk, a scandal, the gossip of the whole neighborhood.— , What could he want with Meggy, for sooth? Was he, with a rich, hard-hearted sort of a father, who was looking up to the aristocracy of Lewes, in order to find a match for his son—was he (Masten Fran cis) likely to marry her—Meggy—the prettiest low-born lass, though she might be, in a day's walk l Nonsense ! Pooh ! She wouldn't have it—an end must be put to it,' and so on. And thus it was that Meggy did put an end to it, for she accepted the suit of a worthy and industrious young artisan of her own station in life ; and while Charley Dean, who worked at one of the factories on the Ouse, was transported and out of his senses with joy, Mr. Francis Palmer, on the other hand, was livid with rage and jealousy, and swore that, some way or other, he would have his revenge. And Mr. Francis Palmer was just the very man to do so ; for under his fair spoken manners there lurked a malignant and evil spirit, which was not to be turned aside from a purpose once formed. Days, happy days—weeks, happy weeks, passed by, and the young lovers were happy. Charley was a prudent and money saving young man, and was known to be looking out for a small business, in the same artisan line he was following at his factory, on his own account. Dame Key mer was pleased, which was a great point gained, and hinted more than once, that she should have a small legacy to be queath to her god-daughter some day—a piece of news that soon spread abroad among the neighbors, who speedily gen erated a report that Dame Keymer was rich, and that Meggy,on her marriage-day, would come into the inheritance of some fabulous fortune. Meggy Heywood was very happy, and thought of little else than her own bliss. Mr. Palmer did not cease to persecute her, but she put him aside with a quiet gravity that made him furious. As for Charley he was happy, too—devoted, ten der and truthful. He beheld in Meggy the aim and end of all his hopes and wishes, and vowed, internally, that if a loving, faithful heart, and industrions hand, and an inventive brain could reward her, these should not be wanting. All, in fact, was going on cheerfully, pleasantly, delightfully; when, suddenly, as by earth= • uake, or eclipse, the whole was darkened, absorbed, and lost forever—forever—in the hideous calamity, the unutterable hor ror, that obscured and entombed every hope, never to be awakened more ! One morning, Dame Keymer was found with her throat cut from ear to ear!—her lit tle money-chest which she kept in her bed room broken open, and her little hoard vanished. Meggy was the first to give the alarm, and the utmost consternation pre vailed. The night had been wild and stormy; a furious. tempest had broken over the town, and wailed and boomed all night. The wind went howling through the streets, beating the chimneys, banging to loose shutters and doors, and drowning all other sounds, if sounds they were ; while in the pauses of the storm, as if the blast were gathering its forces together for an, other wrathful outburst, people in their startled slumbers fancied they heard one of those awful cries which. at times, startle the tear of night, and which can be none other than that of 'Murder !' or of Fire !' - • An examination of the premises now took place—strict and zealous, though, perhaps, not conducted on the scientific principle of analogy and deduction which characterizes the 'detective' of the present day. Doors and windows were securely fastened; and, so far, it was apparent that no one from without could be the p,erpe= trator of— at least it was apparently•so.— The only living creature in the house be sides the oat, was Meggy Heywood, and 'certain sanguine martii - found about her bedchamber- door led to tbe conclusion that she must be the murderess ! and with in the next .hour she was saiely lodged in the old castle, on the charge, until further exaniination bald bring the proof hotne to her. I 3•13 • As a matter of course, the whole resol ved itself into one of those cases which depend entirely and solely upon the evi dence of. circumstances ; bat which evi dences have sa repeatedly proved them selves fallacious,.false, and contradictory even, that the wonder - is that men will venture to arriv.e.st a ooneitl9ion: termini"- ting entitYe'*ithB°. many PIO* jP•dr*LPOdfir. 114orokitheir . I Cireumstsuitial evidence went Irefully ' - against poor Meggy Efeywooe- and yet, there was everytbing—almost-.2lacking to give this corroboration. 'What was the motivel—and where was the plunderl -14 hat was her gain by this -fearful deed I Every one who knew Meggy, knew. she loved the old woman, - and that the: Dame looked on her as ber own child. On ex amining her boxes, not ! a coin, nor a trink et could be traced colititi ILing her with the I deed. Still:the proooeds could have Item ' hooded without, and suspicion pointed , 0 ChaHey Dean as - an aSsociate. He, how ' ever, was soon exculnatltdnothing was found on him, or at his home ; and as he was working through the same night, at the foundry, inthe inOdelling-room, with oilier men, an unquestionable alibi' freed hatimallfreovmenets.very suspicion of the murder, Suspicions that lack confirmation only seem to grow into greater certainties, from the unxiety that arises in people's minds to have a doubt resolved. People began to grow angry with Meggy, beoause she would not codes's., Folks looked doubtfully upon Charley, because he protested his belief in her innocence, day and night, and because he never ceased to visit her in her impris onment whenever he could obtain admis sion. But at last, the day of trial came, and great was the commotion in the town. Let the reader imagine all the formali ties and preliminaries over—Meggy in the 'dock'—the prosecution opened—every tittle of evidence adduced, • and all still circumstantial! Yet this only wanted confirmation. At last, Mr. Francis Palmer is called. He has, it is stated, some important evi dence to communicate. It is a breathless moment, and he comes forward slowly, and makes his statement with evident reluc tance. The sum of his evidence amounts to this That he had entertained an affection for the young person in the dock, and being jealous of the preference she had displayed towards a rival, he—although J/e could not defend the set—had, out of this instinctive jealousy, carefully watched them both ; not having any elear reason, beyond that, why he did so." Here he paused a moment, in some embarrassment, and then, urged by the counsel for the prosecution, went on with his evidence. On the evening of the murder he had seen his rival and the prisoner at the bar, walking towards the castle and, is the darkening twilight favored him, he followed and, from the corner in which he enscon ced himself, overheard a conversation which threw some light, however sinister, upon the case in question. Her lover spoke of their marrying soon—of a pros pect he had of setting up for himself ; ad ding, that if he could muster some fifty or sixty pounds, he could commence at once. The prisoner replied, that there would not be much difficulty about this matter, as her godmother had some such sum by her, which it would not be difficult to obtain.' The effect of this evidence as it came slowly forth, began to tell, little by little, with the most fatal effect. Here was a motive to the consequence—a reason for the act—a condition answering to the re quirements of the case—a confirmation that closed up the last, link. But where was the money? None knew. It could not be traced. The lovers had soon parted. Charley was at his work, and had not quitted it until the deed was consummated. These were the good old days of hanging. Somebody must be hung. Meggy Heywood was found guilty. We do not follow the trial through every phase and transition, Meggy was found guilty_! The poor Dame was murdered—and Meg gy Heywood was hanged! Fiat j ustitia," etc., etc. Ten years had passed away. Meggy Heywood's fate was only a dreadful story to tell round the winter's fire. Charley Dean had gone away and been forgotten, and Mr. Francis Palmer was a married, respectable, exemplary, thriving townsman of the venerable borough of Lewes. One day a dusty, travel worn man might have been seen halting suddenly before the gate-house ; and while his lips quivered and the tears filled his eyes, by his heav ing breast and agitation it might.have been easily gathered that something , of an unu sual nature had occurred to him in the shape of reminiscence or memory. He s.ood on a particular spot. He ejioulated a name—he covered his face with his hands, and sobbed aloud. ' Oh, Meggy, Meggy !' he murmured ; 'all this weary, weary , time to wait, and no olue yet !—nothing to prove your inno cence yet !' , What's the cove maundering about said a. hoarse drunken voice at his ear.— , I've seen a little , game played out here myself, some ten years ago or thereabout`; but, burn me, if it makes me move—not .. a bit!' The first comer lifted up his face, and looked full into a bearded, grimy, haggard and debauched ruffian faoe. The flush of liquor was on his cheeks, its fire in his eyes, and he laughed a short, idiotic laugh as he met the startled look of the man. Ay, you may stare,' he said, with his air of reckless bravado, but which, never theless, could not hide a certain under current of feeling which it is impossible to define ; but it is the sort of restlessness which brings murderers back :to the scene of their crime—that forces confusion from hardened hearts, out of the very -reckless ness that has Made life a daily ;hell to them. She was a woman, too—a girl a'most —the fools !—the fools ! and as innocent as the babe unborn • Enough,' shouted Charley Dean, for it was he—worn, haggard, aged before his time. 6 Enough ! I arrest you on the spot. Oh, you cannot escape me!. Were you twice as burly, and ten times as strong, you would only be a child in my gripe.! The struggle was brief, for the wretch would now escape. In vain! Soon. name a crowd, snort came constables, soon it ran about the town that•the real murderer was' taken, and that Meggy,lLeywood-was inno- And they. , had hangedler! The man wee taken • into 0110 toa7,-ana under the ovolsion !ef 'citotinistanees, - I#44e i s hill confession Of 'the ;310;ja oonintiation with another. -4-whose ha& long before ' the rumor of the poor Dzinie's little ohosti„ of wealth:: #2tAglYtaFeo l l• sikime,. sluing t.her tempest of the-nighti•they ortsptP by. s' I:addeehiietratiavdifielY froM,l4 94.4-4 080-. at tba Amok to the'llidow'adiiindow.- , himil • • t• opened if--committed the- murder and robl . wriy—hadestraped--the catch• of the window - falling withiti having prevented suspicion- off any one's entering. And Meg gy Heywood was,saorificed • - The townsfolk sorrowed for many a day, for the heedless judgment • theirjnry had recorded ; but they could.- not bring back _ the dead. Let us hope poor Meggy met with a judge far more merciful than she met with on earth. Of the future fatp of Charley Dean we have nothing to record. As little have we to Say' of Mr. Francis Palmer. He did not sleep on abed of roses, as his last hour testified. - The murderer—the doulile murderer— paid the penalty of his turpitude ; and that concludes all we know of the matter. The Last Days of School. The following amusing paragraph from the latckerbocker, will be readily appre ciated by all those who have taken part in the 'last exhibition,' at the close of school days: 'Well, a few years pass, and school days are coming to an end. The lastper formanoe is to be an exhibition, and a grand affair is expeqed. Our parents, brothers and sisters are to be there, and we look forward to the day with'_joyful anticipation. 'What great preparations we make ! taking attitudes' and' making grimaces be fore the glass ; rehearsing our pieces, out behind the wood-shed; and up on the hay loft; vainly attempting •to catch the in tonation and superb gestures of the large boy who has been ,to the city, and says, that_ is the way they do at the theatre : putting on our new trowsers, dislocating our vertebrae in trying to get a rear view of them, and only succeeding in making out an indistinct, baggy outline. At last the long-looked-for evening comes and the little country church is brilliantly il luminated with tallow candles, and' gor geously decorated with sprigs of asparagus: .The scholars, highly polished by much washing and redolent of dubiously-flavor ed soap, are.seated on the platform, and the performance begins. It consists of dec lamations from Webster, Burke, Silftrtaeus, Rienzi, and other eminent men ; with essays on 'The Seasons' (taken individually ,and collectively,) on , Isiapoletin' on 'The Revolution - ,' on 'Our Country,' ete., inter spersed with moral dialogues and choral singing. 'lt - passes off pleasantly enough, al though some of the boys find themselves victims of misplaced confidence in trust ing to their memories ; and in their em barrassment make all sorts of irrelevant gestures, and shuffle about in a most disz consolate manner. 'One, in speaking of the Past and Fu ture, forgets what gestures to make and keeps his arm oscillating while he tries to recall it : in studying this up, he forgets what to say next, and retires, blushing with mortification. Don't laugh at him, boys ; this very incident may rouse his spirit ; and you at your rustic fire-side may yet read his eloquent speeches in Con gress. 'Between the parts, an officious gentle man, in attempting to snuff one of the can-, dies with his fingers, pulls it out of the tin sconce, and drops it into the lap of an old lady in bombazine : whereat the old lady is incensed, and the gentleman apol ogizes : the scholars begin to titter ; and the teacher turns around and frowns ter ribly, incontinently squelching a small boy who is rising up to obtain a better view of the proceedings. 'The young ladies' essays embrace every topic, from 'Dress' up to 'Patri otism,' and abound in euphuistic aphor isms, generally misquoted, and diminu tives in let. In describing a sail upon the lake 'gently gliding boatlet' is alluded to, wherepon a crusty old ens—tower, who is a deacon in the church, and a practical man, suggests td'his neighbor's that skillet would do just as well. 'The large boy from the eity,gives us Mark Antony's oration over Casiar's body in what we suppose is the most approved theatrical style. He astonishes and cap tivates the scholars, especially the weaker vessels to whom his anointed loCks, city made clothes and 'miwaculous tie,' are ir resistible: but he by no means pleases the older portion of the audience. His antics are likened to those of a wet hen, a short tailed b—ovine in fly, time, and other ludicrous objects, familitr , to rustic eyes. Unfortunately his vehetnent efforts disturb the slumbers of one or two i nfants, whose cries do not at all enchant the tragic effect, but are much too violent for the occasion ; beihg quite audible though smothered tinder shawls and partially jolted down by a vigorous trotting on maternal knees. And now the last piece is spoken, the doxology is sung, the wheezy old sex ton coughs .out the candles andglooks the door, and school days are over.' , SONG or BIRDS.—Song is the bird's mys tery, and its different degrees are almost endless ; some think they understand these sounds. What a range of tones between the cawing of the raven and the voice of the nightingale or the mocking-bird ! The shrill cry of the osprey is terrible as he 'swoops upon his prey, bat how tender and alluring is the cooing of the turtle-dove'! Wonderful are the aeeents of a single. bird's Voice—now „rapidly prattling, now drawn .out long and soft, :then fine with sudden stops, or again shrill and disjointed—ex pressing,. in fact, the , feelings of content or sorrow the tender affection - of love or the rage Of "jealousy. Need I here refer to the delight which the earliest greeting of - the lark awakens in tu3 7 We instine tively repeat— ' • I Hark, the lark at. Heaven's gate sings,' and welcome that refreshing feeling which pervades the heart, when after the cheerless diva of 'winter the spring .sunleams. We have many songsters already upon our beautiful island; and , now is the best time 'ln lies:am matin song of-the year. The spring-,is.the, season when they make the whole , i country pne.orchestra. While the, •. ()riling is yet cold, there are only a few Chirps ; but enough of music in them for my ear to make me desire their repetition. :Aa the day 'gets warmer the air its filled witlveneerful dieloilies; and you feel - ixiore joyful and more lifting up of the heart, than Wheri any ether music meets your.ear. tilany 'have; amused' themselves in, making Imaginary scales tiflirdi? notes. This, of botirse, is a ditiCtilimatter, as no two per aons.pan be . exactly Pf the .same ear and theaubjeat. . , • : : • 1,•.t.:.7 - 4 :0: 1 ..: ci.7..: Traublesonieegdren." - When you gst.tiNed-,of their noise, just think what the change vitotddhe should it come to a total silence, ', - ;N ature Makes a provision, for strengthening the ehildren's lungs by exercise. Babiee.cannot laugh so as to get much exercise in - this way; but we - never heard of one that could tint cry. • Crying, shouting,' screaming are nature's lung exercise; and if you do -not wish for it in- the parlor; pray : have a place devoted to it, and do not debar the girls from it with the notion that it is im proper for them to laugh, jump, cry, scream and run races in the open air. -After a while one gets used to this juvenile music and can even write sand 'think more con secutively with it than without, it, provi ded it does not flirt into objugatory forms. We reniember a boy that used to go, to school ' past . Our study window, and he generally made a continuous stream of roar to the school house and baok again.— We supposed at first he had been nearly murdered by some one, and had wasted , considerable compassion on the wrongs of infant innocence,; but, on inquiring into his case, found him in perfect good con dition. The truth was, that the poor lit tle fellow had no mirthfulness in his com position,. therefore couldn't laugh and shoat, and ao nature in her wise compen sations, had given him more largely the faculty of roaring. He seemed to thrive upon it, and we believe is still doing well. Laughing and hallooing; however, are to be preferred, unless a child shows a deci ded incapacity for those exercises. . Our eye alights just now upon the fol lowing touching little scrap, written by an English laborer; whose child had been killed by the falling of a beam : Sweet langhing•ohild 1 the oottage door Stands free and Open now,; Bat oh! its sunshine gi de no more The glad eas of thy brow; • Thy merry step bath passed away, Thy laughing eport is hushed for aye. Thy mother by the dreg de sits, And listens for thy.ealri And elowly—slowly as she knits, Her quiet tears downwanifall Her little hin , tering thing is gone, ' And undisturbed she may workpn. A Story for Boys. Business called 'me to the United States Land Office. While there, a lad, apparent ly about sixteen or seventeen years of age, came in and purchased a certificate of forty acres of land. I was struck with the coun tenance and appearance of the lad, and in quired of him for whom he was purchasing •the land.. The reply was: 'For myself, sir.' Feeling an increased desire to know something more about the lad, I asked him whether he had any parents, and where they lived. At that question, he took a seat, and gave the following narrative : lam from "'New York State. I have there living a father, mother and five broth ers and sisters. lam the oldest. Father is a drinking man, and would often return from work drunk. Finding that father would not abstain from drinking liquor, I resolved to make an effort, in some way, to relieve mother, sisters and brothers, from want. After revolving things in my mind, and consulting with mother, I got all the information I could about the far West.- 1 started from home for Wisconsin with ten shillings in my pocket. I left home on foot. After spending my ten shillings I worked my way to Wisconsin, where I got an axe and set out to work, and earned money and saved it until I had gathered fifty dollars, and with it I can now pay for forty acres of land.' 4 Well, my good lad, '—for by this time I had become much interested in him— , what are you going to do with the land ? ' 4 I will work on it; raise myself a log house, and when prepared, will invite fa ther, mother, sisters and brothers, to come and enjoy this home. The land I desire for mother, whioh will secure her declining years.' And what will you do with your father, if he continues drinking ardent spirits to excess V 0, air, when we get him on a farm he will feel at home, and be happy, and be come a sober man:' I then replied, Young man, these being your principles, I recommend you to im prove on them, and the blessing of God will attend you.' By this time the receiver banded him his duplicate certificate receipt of his forty acres of land. Rising from his aeat on leaving the office; he said At last I have a home for my mother.' Lynn .News.— GOOD COOEING NOT INCONSISTENT WITH PIETT.AI've nothing to say agin her piety my dear; but I know very well I shouldn't like her to cook my victuals. When a man comes in hungry an' tired, piety won't fe%d him, I reckon. I called in one day when she was dishin' up Mr. Tryan's dinner, an' I could see the potatoes was.as watery as water. It's right enough to be sperital,— .no enemy to that hilt I want my po tatoes mealy. I don't see as anybody'll go to heaven the sooner for not digestin' their dinner—yrovidin' they don't die sooner, as mayhap Mr. Tryan will, poor dear man r —../Idanz Bede. 13: - That, was a wise negro, who in speaking of the happiness of mairied,peo ple, said, 4Dat'ar pends altogether how dey enjoy themselves.',, . , , V" An old maid iti AlissonriOwns . 3,000, acres of fine land oh 'she employs 30 hands. Why dont - the old boy marryl--' she certainly has good grounds for marry- lig' An ; old, soaker in Boston <being found in the, gutter,-on • a rainy night, the water making s.9.lpar breach over him from , head tO heels Was asked by ti paeaer, what •he'was doing? 'I agreed, tu, moat man here,' was the reply. ' • (0' In reply taanadvertiament 'Uee Cooper's, l'ooth,'Brash,' a—lresti3rn editor says.: W. , ,e,'111410 ci;Oper hanged.firo, the dirty . fellew:! Howe would . heilke use ours l' . •.•• ; . • 11 , T . DREss: ;: z N This newlpdbifoyereCinventten Prorreis the Clothes from bent 801 fed cinders Illniedne 'Belehbm 'moon'' ' 'exitance, and 1e al:great comfort to-tdothere and Nurses. Sir To be tad it ALI. LADreir STOrtn, and sent free by Potty direct! front , dbe larinitnr. , ABMPIELD; Ito: 612 Tielfth street, Agtuddilitton, by re9 114 / 7 14*, M amount lCA DOLLAR NAM X, 1Y24" NT 8 air 2 a ilber4 !liTrif. l 4,: ll ?Ade SQ the, too* : -' oat . F oy. 8404::CialliAPtvivA. bertteeate 2or • O R. (male or female) in the Coatesville &ear loam. • illiqulrs'orthe AtesihaiMftoi et the •Ititaillgeneet• WS • - - r 'BAP. rIiRE LANCASTER. INTELLIGENCE JOB PRINI7NGIiSTABLLSHMENT. No. 8 NORTH DORS STREET, LANCASTER, PA. The Jobbing 'Department la thoroughly furnished with new and elegant type. of every description, and le under the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer.— The Proprietors are prepared to PRINT OREM, - NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS, - CARDS AND anum - LAB.s. BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, ' PROGRAMME' AND POSTERS, • PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING,- with neatness, accuracy and dispatch. on the most reasons• ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by any establish ment-in the city. Sap Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise, promptly attended to. Address GEO. SANDERSON A SON, Intelligencer Office, No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa. LIORSE AND CATTLE POWDER. 11. TATTERSAL'EI HORSE POWDER, HEAVE POWDER, ROSIN, FENNIIGREEK • SULPHIIP 4 GEIIBIAN, CHEAH TARTAR, COPPERAS, do., For sale at THOMAS ELLHAKKEPS Drag ,11 . Chemical Store, West King street, Lazier. feb 9 tt 4 SPECIAL NOTICE. WENTZ BROS Offer every possible inducement to . . . . CASH BUYERS OF DRY GOODS. Determined to reduce their stock, they give • GOOD BARGAINS BEAUTIFUL FANCY BILKS, At 9%, 60, 75. worth double the money. • GRENEDINE AND BEREGE GOODS, • About one-half their value. Every variety and style of SPRING AND SUMMER DRESS GOODS, ' SHAWLS, SILK AND CLOTH CLOAKS AND MANTLES, FRENCH LACE MANTLES, Points, Shawl& Burnous, Eugene% French and Chantllla Lace Goode In every style—without regard - Co cost. ' 6-4 and 8-4 Super Black 111{BINO AND DBLAINE for Shawls. SUN UMBRELLAS AND PARASOLS. AARON STOCK OP MEN'S AND BOYS' WEAR, AT LEM THAN MANI:MAILMEN% PECS& ,A great sacrifice in a lot of BEREGES AND LAWNS, Which are closing out at 12% cents—one half price. Great bargains in COLLARS and SLEEVES from Auction: June 18 St 23] WENTZ BROS., Emt King end Centre Square. ivrEw SPRING MILLINERY GOODS The.subecriber has just returned from Philadelphia and New York. with a complete and well selected stock of SPRING AND SUMMER MILLINERY GOODS, which to offers to the public in general, at wboleeale and retail, for 'the loweet cash prices. My clock consists in Silks of all colors, Crapes, Lawns, Bandit.), Mode, Tarlton, Crown, Lining, Capenett, Jeanbland, Quißings, French end Maori can Flowers, Stikine, - Edging, Strairgirrip, bone of the newest style, Wire, Bonnet4rames, Bonnet-Blocks, Straw Bonnets, Hats and Shakers of all colors, and the newest style and shape; Bon net materials; and TriMmlnge of all' kinds, Jewelry, Notious;Dry Goode, and a great many articles too-numer ous tom ntion. Also., TRIMMED AND READY •MADE BONEETS all the timoon hand of the very latest fashion, wbloh he offers elieaper then the cheapest . . Thesubscrlber is thankful for past favors, and hopes a. contintumeirtif all bid old customers and plenty more new ones., - ' L. BAUM, No, 81 North Queen street, Lancaster, Pa. 8m 10 tllBl% OA DEATH.--The pubsoril;ocirs tat! plc More in announcing that, they are now pre• pared to mail (tree) to those who wish it, a copy of an lin. portant little werk, by' the late Dr. Brampton, entitled . " TEM INVALID'd MEDICAL CONFIDANT," published. for the benefit, arida& a warning to young men and Pir aeus wbo suffer from Nervous Debfity, Premature• Decay; Ac., Ao, supplying the means of self cure. The reader is irresistibly led to compare useful life with an Ignoble death, • Reader, lose not a moment, but send your address for a copy rinhis little work. A d dress the Publishers. DR. JOHN B. OGDEN .4 co., 64 and 66 John Bt., New York. • apr 80 - $m 16] (DAOAI3.B AND /NAN TILLAS. Every novelty of the season. The , ,richeat materials, the hest work, and prices lower than ever. 'RENS, No. 23 South 9th Street, Philadelphia.. CITY CLOAK STORE . No. 142 South Bth Street, Philadelphia: cloth Cloaka, in eddies! variety;'Silk Cloaks and Man tillas' hi every otudity, style and cost, at prices that enable, tis to defy competition. FASHIONABLE CLOAKS . _ . . . If you want style and quality, go to the Paris 'Mantilla Store, N. E. Cornet - Eighth and Walnut Ste., Philadelphia: SPLENDID - SILK MANTLES. The largetthnd most fashionable Stock in the city. N. E. Corner Eighth and Walnut Ste., Philadelphia: CLOAKS! CLOAKS!! CLOAKS!!! Elegant New Store: Magnificent Goode. No. 29 South 9th Street, third door below DONS, may 21 Philadelphia. Bm 19 N'OO.II.PORA TED' 1810: 1- HARTFORD FIRE INSURANCE COMPANY; OF HARTFORD, CONN. CAPITAL AND ASSETS $ 9 88,709.00. H. HUNTINGTON, President. P. C. Alin% Secretary. Policips issued and renewed; loeses equitably adjusted arid I:kid • immediately upon sattsfactnry proofs," in New York funds, by the undersigned, the DULY AUTHORIZED AGENT. JAMES BLACK, act 23 ly 41J r Agent for Lancaster Co. SIGN• Or THE RED COATS FAIL AND WINTER CLOTHING CHEAPER THAN' EVERII 8. W.. 12 AV'S, T•AILOI3. AND CLOTHIER, No.B NORTE QUERN Sr.,Lawcasratt. • SIMON W. RAUB calls the attention or the citizens of Lancaster county and city to his large and welt selected stock of Piece Goods and-Reedy Madp Fall and Winter , Clcrthing," the largest and best assorted the city of Lan. (water. 8. W. Raub. would call particular attention to his stock of ELIO Made Clothing of his own manufsettire,, all warianted`to' be• well sewed and guaranteed to give entire satlifactiOn:' • OVERCOATS, from $3.60 ' , to $12.00' -BLACK FROCK COATS, from. 4.00 " 14.60 • BUSINESS COATS, " SAO "" .10.00 , MONERY COATS, /6 2 .00 5 . 00 BLACK PANTS,' 2.60 " 5.00 • FANCY PASS. PANTS, " 1.60 - 4.450 VESTS AR pricer, " •75 ." 6.00 Bay's am:Una:Vs .Clothing - at alio Foie' smd TrarnaAted !; Treil Made. Also; on band a large and splendid assortment of Fretich- English and American Cloths, Over. Coatings and 'Catad mares, and Vesting., which will be made up at short notice and low priees,'ent and made in the West and warranted: to give satisfaetion In . QUALITY, MAKE AND FIT. Also on hand, a large assortment of Gentlemen's Pim nishleg Goods, consisting of Collars, Shirts; Nick, Ties, Begpenders,!cc. Gentlemen buying their own - go,ods carr.hare It made up in a fashionable style, at the lowest • . 'Gentlemenppeeible prices; - are Invited to call and examine bete purchasing elsewhere. 4lir Remember the Sign of the Red Cbatl B. W. RAUB, No. 8 North Queen et,, Lancaster. oct 16 tf 40] I' R L A R . A.N . EW'DEMOORATIO MORNING _PAPER lIMIU U N I . . Wlth.tiview to meet a universally admitted want, the undersigned will Issue on Monday, the let of July tssut, Moriiing Penny Piper; to be called "THE UNION." The great mission of the Democratic Party, which C hu '" ever stood ue the bulwark of the tinton and the ChtinifriMt , of theConstitntion, renders its entire unity and bold aril:- tudeln:this hoar of National peril a matter of vital 'eon+. cern: The pending stru,ggle Is not lees for the maintenance • of allotted Countyrthan. for the Perpetuation, of. Demo, - Prineinl,e, as e x pounded by Jefferson and. Jackson, ; . The most mornentbus results bang open the lied& Mere' party qUestlons are forthe time by - common consent . ad journed. The past Is deed, save in ite lessons of experient&," • ' TheDetnOcratic 'hosts have not shrunk from their AMP share in the responeiblllties and dangers of the emergency: They heed tallied with:one accord around the standard of our common country. Bet tbe occasion 'impalas .other duties. 'The Povernment will demand. and .recelve the willinttnipport of -every: patrhAin its efforts to vindicate the National honor and reassert the e Nationel authority ; but the Preservatkm of Constitutional Liberty rests more with the peOple than with Congreini and Cabinet& Vigilance - ~ Unityand are therefore specially' requisite in the present,,. '' , . •. „ It in the Punk* _of the Propriebna to make "THIlf UNION,.- in every respect a Ard-cliis Journal.. The 11 Democracy of the whole State f&I the need of a. bold and vigorous Metropolitan daily ; and no e ff ort will be spared to render "THE UNION" both popular and - and efficient as a newspaper, arid as a fearless exponent of the great 'principles for which the Democratic party have ever con. tended, and which are now so unhappily imperilled.... The Proprietors have perfected such arrangement.. a. will Placa the enterprise, trim the beginning, upon a iruth. staotial business basis, with abundant. means to make a -Newspaper second in interest and ability to no otherto thir city; and while the paper will be fearlessly Democratic, it ',I wW sedulonsij avoid all faction, as the deadliest bine to ;party efficiency. . We look to the DEMOCE.ATIO MASSES for rupport, and Shall labor to make "TEE UNION "' In every way worthy their confidence and liberal patronage,..as a fresh, readable _ 'and' fearless Journal. TERSIS:—Per Annum. Three Dollnrs, or served by T liens SIX CENTSPER WEEK. • JO. SEVEENS a co.,- -..•-• . No. 180 South Third St., PhiladelphikPa. `i : June 18 St ZS ' AMERICAN LIFE INSURANCE 'AND -. . . • 'CAPITAL 'STOOK, $100,000.,' .Qumpany's Building, Walnut street, B. B. eoraritiOrourth P H .L AD. K.. 1.2 I A.._ .. LIKE LNHEIRAIiOB AT THE lIERTib MUTUAL sem, or at Joint - Stock Hates, at about 20 per cant. lea; or TOtalAbithienee Bates, the lowed in Het Initid.l s • : A. WHIZ M ,PreeldeuX. J.O. BINA Secretary. • • H. S. BABA, Beg.; Bait Ring stmt., Agent fbr- Lanai ) ter 4:01111t7: . fatai,22,l* 10 MANUAL . AND DRILL BOOK, Fink. this sue of all Volunteers' andlitilltia; rivised, coy.. rooted, and, adapted to the discipline of thesoldierof tha , present dai; by an officer In the United States Arniy: At J. M. WBSTHABYYItIt'2 :_ • may 14 V 181 No. 44, Corner N.:Q[O3Oll i.,9 A TE TNICION BORE GUARDS 1.1 J -1 A. Book• for every one. ••B X 121138 INANAWII:i!rit Insvnten, And only 25 cents—the lest hook_t-Ass,stla b. at - • B. WN&SELAZIMUVI _ - No. 44, cornea of North Queen - and omill* . VOLONTENRS' MANUAL: fa, the iuntb2nOltiain -- and3Rontriensnia, with 1024.1lustalninkby015004sta.' CLliaxter. Only .25 canny_ , ,-„, .'ll.l/ANlNnfiNzx ir) A 44 9!--4.k = 1!C-17'.11.1 i .. , ..,..4. - :•••: ,. ,..:,...4',,,Ti. '-." -. • .•:.:'.. 7::.:k•;4 , -.. NO: 27.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers