Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, July 16, 1861, Image 1

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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.