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'''''',"'::•...-.......::_.:::. _ . - 1 ' ,.: ' 1_ . • ' • : ,.. .:_ ; : : ..:, ~, . , . . . _ . ~ . _ ', ' .. ', ..'-fie: 1. , ::.. ..": `; I''ij 3 - .7.... r,.'- , c,. 7 7 . -'.: '''.l . ',7.1 , . ' . ' , U . C ~ ~ ' :... ,• . •• • ... '3 ,- r ~:.. .f.i - A-'.. 7 t i.;. , tl: . : ~.. ;. Ti' l l 6- ,d -- , 1 -1.-..„ - .:11.-; .. ~... . . . . -, . . cl. . - ~ . • .. .. r'_...` -- .. ... - . - - - .. . - , . - . .',I - • + , . . `VOL. LXII. HE LANCASTER,INTELLIGENCER, • . • PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY, AT !to:8 NORTH DUBE STEM S BY GEO. SANDERSON: EEICEEI niscamiotr.—Two Dollars per annum, payable In ad vance. No subscription discontinned untflallarrear ages are paid „unless at the option of the. Editor.. Anvitanssusars.—Advertisements, not exceeding one sonars, (I2lines,) will be inserted three times. for one dollar, and twenty-live cents for each additlonallniser tinn. Those of greater length in proportion. • 3013 Parwriso—Such as Hand Tillls, Posters, Pamphlets, Blanks, Label; do., executed with accuracy and on shortest notice. THE SENTRY. Young Sentry, pacing to and fro, . A novice in the task I know, Thus back and forth and back again, In sun and moonlight and in rain, Hour after hour—methinks to thee They must pass slow and wearily. What aching limbs and drooping eyes Are hidden 'neath that soldier guise; Yet must those eyes refuse to close, Those weary. limbs to seek repose. i Poor boy ! he knows his life s lost Were he found nodding at his post. Yet late it was his wont to sleep Through hours be now a watch most keep. Could he indeed have dreamed away The time from close to break of day, To him thus pacing to and fm, 4 An hour must seem a night, I know. Perchance the sun with strengthening heat May parch his brow and burn his feet; It matters not ! he must not show Fatigue, thus pacing to and fro, With musket on his shoulder borne, And form erect, however worn. Yet who the Sentry's thoughts can read? A soldier's life is hard indeed ' • Perchance at heart a wayward boy, And reared life only to enjoy;, - Now first to value home he learns, As for its kindly scenes he yearns. If so, although perchance severe The duties that he now must share, The lesson may not be in vain, Should be to home return again; And in the quiet hours there spent, He may be happy and content. Perchance beneath that midnight sky Ho oft may breathe a weary sigh, 1 And eagerly shall strain his oar The striking of the clock to hear; When e'en the echo of his tread Seems but the step of one to dread : When all the world seems hushed in sleep, And he alone this watch must keep, Still often the sentry may The beauty of the night survey, With different feelings far from those With which it was his wont to close His curtains for a night's repose. And he amid the-stars may see Calm angel eyes smile lovingly,— Byes that were long since closed to him, And e'en may be to memory dim. Thus when that midnight watch may lead To sweet communion with the dead. Or he may think of that bright star Which led the wise men from afar, When shepherds watched their flocks, and when The angels sang "good will to men," "Peace on the earth '2—sweet peace now lost, War calls the Sentry to his post. Alas! that youthful heart can ne'er Ask for the strife that hovers near, But rather wish the angel strain Might as of old be heard again; The wise man might rise up once more, And peace to all the land restore. God grant the Sentry may not know A lesson far more stern than now; That his young eyes may never see Dark scenes of death and butchery ; That his bright bayonet wear no stain, But in its sheath may rest again. Young Sentry, pacing to and fro, A novice in the. task I know ; Thus back and 'forth and brick again, In sun, in moonlight, and in rain, Hour after hour—methinks to thee They must pass slow and wearily. THE UNKNOWN CHAMPION. The front door of Lysle Hall shut so heavily that it shook the house, startling a young girl and boy, who sat in the deep embrasure of a window, apparently wait ing for something or some person. The young girl was dark-haired, dark-eyed, ex tremely pretty, though her lips curled .too haughtily, and an imperious glance shot from her large, dark eyes which told of a proud spirit. The boy was pale, and golden-haired ; wholly unlike his com panion and sister in feature, though his pale thin lips had the same haughty curl, and his blue eyes grew dark with pride ; a poor thing was Alfred Lysle—his right arm and leg being withered—had been so from his birth. He was gentle, affection ate, high-spirited and talented, the idol of his widowed father and proud sister.— There were times when the spirit chaffed, and he almost cursed the poor maimed body which was such a clog to him. Alfred read aloud while his sister Agnes busied herself with a piece of embroidery, giving, if the truth be told, a very divided attention to the words of her brother. Was not that a glorious description V asked the boy, his face all glowing with poetical enthusiasm. '.Yes; I think I never heard a cataract described more beautifully.' Why, Aggie ! got along past the catar act and reached the meadow !' '' Oh ! have you dear ? Well, Alfred, to tell you the honest truth, I got to thinking of something else. Be so kind as to read it over again, and this time I will surely listen to you.' - The boy laughed gayly as be answered : No use, Aggie ; your. wits would be wool gathering again before I had read. three lines. I will not torment you any longer. Shall I talk to you instead—or would you rather be silent V Talk, if you please, Alfred.' What think you, sister Agnes, will be the result of this conference V asked the boy in a low tone. The girl raised her troubled face and answered, very slowly : 'lndeed, Alfred, 1 scarcely dare think. The Dudleys are not famed for their gen erosity, and —' Bang ! Bang ! It was the hall door closing so heavily that it stopped her words and caused both the young persons to t start. Gone at last !' exclaimed Agnes.— And she rose to her feet just as the door of the room where they were sitting open ed, and an old gentleman entered. ' What now, father ? I thought Morti mer Dudley would never go. How is it settled ? The matter stands just where it did before. He will not abate one inch of ground, nor will 1. He thinks his claim as good as mine, and day after to-morrow we meet on the debatable ground, and With sturdy lances settle the question.' Good, father ! I feared you might be compelled to yield, and I couldn't bear to think that in old age you would be obliged to give up your home and go among strangers. The case has been carried from court to court, and years have passed Sway in futile waiting; now, a well di rected blow, and the proud Earl of Dudley will be overthrown. Aye, charge at him, father, and may God and St. Mary guide your weapon so that you may come off conqueror.' • The father smiled and patted the gleiv ing cheek of his pretty, spirited daughter, then..seated himself beside his son and read with him. Sir Henry Lysle was about fifty-five, handsome and high spirited; an uprigls, honorable and kind father. For two geti- I_ - :,._i•J‘z.:.. , .,:t -- , erationni• between the houses` of Dndley Yotnitelfin armor readY to accom- And.Lysie, there had'been:a:long standing! pany the young knight. .quarrel concerning some property, two7.fr: f Tcrukt.bidding shall thioa including the hulidingi Pf_the"Lyale'-; ; o •And - Arneld, your:nhould: oung knight estate, The= dispute had been - carried , Jlaok:aught in riding, :or in handling--the - from court to conr•k•Withnnt : any deoision; /anceolireot hint im:you did. toy father::: in favor of either party. -Lately,:Robert, Agnes turned and walked quietly te.the Earl 'of Dndley; had' died,,and his sin, a ,f,house wbglly nncogseious of the curious daehing, man: of twenty-Ave, had tared:of L gaze that followed her, Oid.,:.,4.rnold,looked: the old time- Inarrel, proposed -to. settle I, after her with wistful oyos, -, then-murmared: t he; debate. ,bysingle.c.pinhat to . be- hold '-aloud p . •,. • : • • _ the debatable territorr—then, in the four-: Proud step, like-her-father; yet 'light: teenth century, a very common; method of as fairy." =Where ha s :shtYfound cham settlitkg.dispnteil.. ..Thu s the matter stood , pion has' been 'Vidden smartly and -with' . conversation, reading the I see by her reeking flanks . and lieaving. three passed the eveni ng, .sides. It,can't he that,igastor Alfred is After Alfred had retired, Agnes lingered" going -to . try—that would -_be - madness, behind seeming averse: to leave her father.' though I know he is equal•in, spirit to Sir llenry noticed her hesitation and-put- .poor fellow—no, no—;-that•lsen't be; for his ting his arm around her • - wahEiti, and strok- arm is neither steady nor stinng., ' ing her_dark curling. hair, said .earnently : think.' - • _ _ . • IDay after; to-naorrow, AgneS; rshah mount my good steed, and' battle for my rights and our home. If I fall, as fall I may, we are ,'homeless; Should anything - happen to prevent me from. engaging in this, conflict—' • i • But nothing can happen to prevent yinti father, eagerly interrupted Agnes. "Nothing but sadden illness.or death, my - dear child.' Oh 2 father !' We must look at possibilities, my dear child, and I trust you do not _shrink. If, 88 I say, anything shall prevent me from fighting my: fight, .1 . • know not what-you- will' do. Alittle money :I have;; you will find it in the ebony , cabinet beside my bed. With that you must go with your brother to our relations beyond the border. Never mind, 'my child, I feel that you tremble.-- Well only look on the bright side ; and now good night.' Thus they parted with one fond embrace. As Agnes ascended rp her chamber, her heart was heavy with presentiment of com ing evil. .About midnight Agnes was aroused from a deep though troubled slum ber. It was Margery, the old, nurse. Oh ! dear, Miss Agnes ! Get up-- walte as quick as you can, for you are wanted.' 'There was trouble and despair in the old woman's voioe, and Agnes sprang from her bed and began to dress as hastily as possible, while she eagerly questioned Margery. What is the matter, Margery Sir Henry s your father, is ill—taken very suddenly.' With what V Oh ! dear, Miss, I don't know ! James, who always sleeps in the next room, beard a kind of groaning, and rushing in, found my dear master-in some kind of a fit.' Oh ! merciful heaven ! spare my father to me !' exclaimed the trembling Agnes, as, throwing a shawl over her shoulders, she flew rather than ran down stairs. At the door of her father's room, she paused and turned to Margery, who had followed as closely as she could. - Has any one gone for the doctor !' Yes, James went as soon as I could go to master.' Agnes entered the dimly lighted cham ber, and approached the bed where her father lay, so white and motionless, while the frightened servants stood around mutely. Sir Henry Lysle was a good, kind master, and the servants were de voted to him. Summoning all her courage, Agnes neared the bed. At the first sight she trembled, for she thought her father was dead: Bending over him, she laid her hand upon his heart, and was rejoiced to find that it pulsated still—though very faintly. Ignorant of what to do, Agnes bathed her father's face, and was in deep despair at the failure of her efforts, when the physician entered. Dr. Thompson found it to be a paralytic stroke, and pro ceeded to bleed the patient. Soon Sir Henry opened his eyes, and seemed con scious of all that was going on. He en deavored to speak, but that being impossi- Kea paper and pencil were brought him.— In large, irregular characters he scrawled : Doctor, will I be well enough to go out to-morrow"?'. With wistful eyes he watched the phy sician as he deciphered the characters, and his face expressed the bitterest despair. Dr. Thompson shook his head. Again he wrote : I cannot meet Mortimer Dudley, and we are lost, Agnes' Agnes read the irregular writing, so infferent from the usual firm, clear words and she could scarcely repress the tears; but bravely' Muslering her feelings, she said, bending over the stricken man : Can you hear and understand what I say, father V A faint nod was'the answer. " Then rest in peace, dear father, for a champion will be found, who will strive as manfully as you—and God grant that he may be as brave and faithful. A smile of contentment passed over the sick man's faee, and he calmly closed his eyes. Too ill to question or doubt, he believed his daughter's words. Towards the close of that day, Agnes returned from a short and rapid ride, and sought in the stable for old Arnold, her father's trusty esquire. The old man turned as he heard the clatter of the horses feet, and was only in time to see Agnes spring lightly from the saddle. He doffed his hat respectfully, and waited for his mistress to speak. You know, Arnold, that it was my father's intention to meet young Dudley at daybreak, to-morrow ?' I know—l know, Mistress Agnes ; but he is ill—stricken down—and cannot go,' answered the old servitor, in a mournful voice. know of a champion,' and the girl's face flushed as she spoke, a rather inex perienced youth, but one who has a brave heart, a keen eye, and 'a ready hand. All that, he has, but no armor, and my father's is all too wide for him. Know you of any other I' Up in the garret is a suit long unused. It belonged to your father when he ,was a mere stripling, scarcely stouter than you, my dear lady.' That will do very well, I think. Have it brightly polished, all id order, :and lay it on the couch in the bed-room.' , It is as bright now, Mistress Agnes,' replied the old man, respectfully, though with an accent of pride, 'as the day when your father last wore it, nearly forty years ago._ I loved the armor my young pupil wore, and no spot of rust dulls its bright surface, no stay unloosed, or any dinted plate.' Ever - faithful ; good Arnold ; all is well. To-morrow at daybreak be at the hall door with black Rudolph, father's !". • • . • tr pacengoup.*Eigi OCOOLUaIs TIEN CONIST AWARD. IMMLQUCE. LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY - MORNING, tf V - 1 4 Y. '23, 1861. „ . c Afellow,'. rnold; old exclaimed:a cheery voice, don't bother your old brain, bnt obey orders. To-morrow will solve-yottt doubts. God and St. Josephns grant that our poor master's cause may be victorious?: Amen, Joseph, responded Arnold.; and he turned and went. slowly te*arde the Just before daybreak the next morning, obedient to orders, Arnold,- clad in armor, holding Black RudolPh, stood at the ;hall door. His own horse was'held' by Joseph. Both men watched with anxious eyes - the opening of the heavy oaken ? door • Mayhap the young knight -mrsleeps - himself, and is dreaming of his lady love,' mockingly whispered the yeoman 'to the old squire. • • The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the door swung back upon its hinges, and the ring of a mailed heel was. heard upon the steps. Eager eyes were raised and lowered in great . -disappointment, for. the visor was tightly olosed.; Perfectly silent the unknown knight mounted the spirited war horse; took the lance, and started off at a brisktrot, closely followed by Arnold. The yeoman shook his head as he gazed after them, and mur mured while watching them out of sight among the trees. Its nobody I know. •He mounted none, too glibly, although he rides well. A slen der youth is he to combat with the fiery Dudley. Success attend him. In perfect silence the knight and the, esquire rode a short distance to the field of combat—a plain in the furtherest verge of the Lysle domain. At last the ground was reached, and the stranger rode into the field on one side, at the same moment that Mortimer Dudly en tered on the other. A few people were assembled to witness the struggle. The unknown knight and Mortimer Dudley gravely saluted, then backed their horses to the extremity of the field and waited with lances in rest for the signal to be given. A stout man, Sir William Delorme, gave the required shout. In an instant both horses sprang forward and bore their riders on. Once they met, yet neither was struck ; the second charge the lance of the Earl of Dudley touched the shoulder of the young knight who visibly reeled. Arnold was in despair, and murmured : All is lost! the next charge he will fall!' A third time they rushed forward and in a cloud of dust one went down. Arnold closed his eyes and fairly groaned, when a shout made him re-open them. Lysle forever ! Lysle forever !' Sure enough, it was the proud Earl of Dudley who was unhorsed, and beside him knelt the stranger knight. Now yield you, Mortimer, Earl of Dud ley V I yield,' said the young Earl ; 'but I would know to whom, for you are not Sir Henry Lysle I am sure.' The friends of both parties stood around and Arnold among the foremost. g Rise up, Mortimer, Earl of Dudley, and you shall know who has been able to con quer you.' The young nobleman rose, and with fol ded arms looked at the slender, mailed figure before him. The stays were unloosed and helmet thrown -back, and the sun streaming through the clouds, which had obscured it, shone full upon the uncovered face. Mortimer started while a loud tri umphant shout rent the air. The young man gazed in wonder and admiration upon the delicate face, long waving brown hair and heaving bosom of Agnes Lysle A red flush rose to the brow of the haughty Earl, and he bit his teeth with rage. Be not chagrined, brave Dudley,' said Agnes, in her rich, sweet voice, while her long dark lashes drooped on her soft cheeks. You have but bowed to the fate decreed to all mankind. From the beginning to the end of time, brave men will yield to the power of women, and degrade not their manhood by so doing. I battled for my home, Sir Earl, and God guided my arm. Hereafter, let us meet as friends who have proved each other's mettle. Shall it be so?' Unable to resist the sweet voice and be witching smile Mortimer seized the mailed hand, kissed it, whispering so low that none of the by-standers heard 'Yes, a thousand times yes ; and from my fall I will rise and soar higher than ever, seeking only for your love and ap probation.' A bright flush spread over the beautiful face but for one moment—then, with a half murmured farewell, Agnes mounted her father's horse and prepared to leave the field as quickly as she came. But this was not to be, for all the people, present turned with one accord, and in triumph accompan ied her home. She tried in vain to remon strate against this—her words were un heeded. At her bridle rein rode the proud Earl of Dudley. Upon his bed of illness lay Sir Henry Lysle. The shoats of the returning party reached his ears, and by signs he inquired the cause. The knight returns victorious,' exclaimed Margery in delight. Alfred, who sat beside the bed, rose up, exclaiming, while his whole frame fairly trembled with excitement : 'Oh, father! the joy isn't all Dome yet. Wait till you know it-all: Shall I lead the proud - conqueror to your 'bedside, - dear father An eager sign of assent was given by theinvalid, and Alfred hastened as fast as hisdameness would permit, from the room.- With•a step lees firm and varying cheek, Agnes, led by her brother, entered Sir Henry's Chamber. Her visor , was closed. Coming forward she knelt beside the bed. At an eager signfrom.her father, she strove to'unloose• the stays,',"_lMt her trembling fingers refuied to do her hidding Earl of Dudley, who still kept by her aide, Undid-the fastenings and: Alfred threw :back the helmet, dis closing' the, blushing face of Agnes .Lysle. The shook was great and affected a cime, lor, Sir Henry rose up, in bed . ' and_ ex— elainied I f744-Pe!! !, Agues !my Agnes .1 in armor oomieg•-here victorious V • • • • c!l:ree, fitter,' .exolAinied Alfred; Agnes it is . enrely" ; •-• • Mortimer-Dudley here itepPicit forward. .Gently,, Sir : Henry• . 1- 4 W bitelc:. upon , Your pillow.- Like hero your - daughter !donned . .aritar.: aka the. prOndeet .: noblelnPtigigii4'aei.rhere . to say It. :r yield..to her heart and for tune, the devot ed , love of • here, in your presence, I lay et her-feet praying that she :map not, give my; 401011410 w, fOr Oforial',Wonla - . kill me.';': • r ., • • With deep devoted love- shining rom his eyes, the haughty _ Mortimer DuAlley waited -her answer. itisingfrorn , her knees, all clad in olankling armor, and her face I brilliant with hapPihess;'Agnei Liqde Came . , forward and placed the tiny hand, so lately cached in a mailedganntlet,lii the hands of the young Earl saying;with her fascin ating smile , I vanquished yon, Mortimer 'Dudley, you have conquered me for all time.' Mortimer folded the • young girl in one fond embrace, then turned' to Sir Henry; who ley upon his pillow, sniffing,' but weak. 4 Your blessing, Sir Henry Dysle. This daY your daughter has Won 'back yOur in heritance, and robbed me of , the • things most vidued; heart and liberty—two feats. Thus Agnes Lysle became the wife of one of the proudest nobles in England, and the memory of her feat is still' cherished, for the ()rest of Dudley's is knit of a ducal coro net of gold, a 'woman's, bust, her' hair dis hevelled, bare bosom, a helmet on her head with stay or throat-lash down; and MSS in ,possession of the Dudley's of Northamp tonshire' preserve the story of THE UN KNOWN. CHAMPION. Female Extravagance. The getieral monetary embarrassment will enforce economy in our homes, sad many luxuries will be surrendered which have hitherto been deemed, almost indis pensable to comfort. The wonderful prosperity of our country has led to extra vagant habits of living, fatal alike to re publican and Christian simplicity, and it may' be hoped that adversity will teach wise lessons. The Springfield Republican bas some plain remarks on female extrav agance : • This is a hard subject for us to touch upon, especially with words of fault-find ing. A woman does look so pretty when well dressed, that until some startling de velopments have rendered it imperative, we have refrained from saying a word against the extravagant outlays that are now made for. femalci dress. We think that we do not' stretch the truth' in sta ting that the dress of a woman costs two dollars now where did one ten years ago. it is now silk every where, or an expen sive fabric of wool ; and cotton is univer sally at a discount. The shop-girl stands in silk behind the counter, and as the shop-girl wears the dress.that the fashion able woman did ten years ago, the latter is obliged to adopt a fabric of a More costly oharaoter, e so that when the dollar silk was once good enough the heavy three dollar mark antique will alone suffice.— Ten to twenty dollars are now paid for a hat, where five and ten dollars were once considered extravagant. It is thus in every department of female dress. This tendanoy to overdress was once considered an American vulgarity; but there is no lack of extravagance abroad now, and so cieties have already been formed in European continental cities for its sup pression. The singular fact has been pretty widely published that in Boston, during the past year, the number of marriages has been reduced twenty per cent, from the previ ous year. Now we have not the slightest doubt that this fact grows out of the con scious inability of young men, starting in life and business, to support wives in a manner consonant with the present requi sition of social life. Girls must keep house and keep it in style, or they must board in a costly boarding house, and dress in a manner corresponding to that entertained by the daughters of the millionare. There is no more of the occupation of the humble home at first, no more of the self-denial by which the wife becomes the sharer of the young husband's poverty and strug gles ; no more of the adaptation of life to circumstances, by which the wife grows up with the husband into fortune, but mar riage must now bring at once all the ad vantages and all the show of fortune, or it may not be indulged. In other words mar riage has become a costly and rare luxury, to be had. only for money- 7 and not that natural and unrestricted connection of ac cordant loves and lives, which is necessa ry to the happiness .of both men and woman, and essential to the purity and progress of society. This puts a serious face uptin the mat ter—a very serious face. In the history of every nation, that which has operated as a bar to the marriage of the sexes has been the nurse of vice. A man who has really made up his mind that he cannot afford to be married, and that he must lay aside all hope of it for years, at least, is in a dangerous position. He has lost some of the most powerful restraints from vice that have ever influenced him; and while he adopts a course that unfits him for the pure pleasures of home and connubial life, the ungathered roses ' still cling to the ancestral tree, and wither where they hang: Howeier much men may feel the cost of woman's extravagance, and however little they can afford it woman feels it still wore and can afford it still less. The general idea of living is altogether above the mark of Christian prudence or sound social poliey. The prudent re duction of the cost of living indirectly increases the prosperity of business.— Men complain that- they •cannot make monoy, and yet they earn money enough. Five hundred dollars saved from an annu al expenditure of Id2ooo, is a snug ' . little sum to lay up every year, and there are few families expending,this 'sum who •would not be just as well, nay, better off with the reduction. We - would by no means ex empt men from the charge of extravaganoe . ;; but we do not think' their expenses have been increased in the degree of those of , their wives and daughter& It is hard de-, nying women anything, .but if they are true women they will Ask withingf uniefir. soluble... • ADTEXTOF,THE MIISQUITO. 'Again kgsant mosquito oomm, Thai - brigand of the idght, ••: • With , all his ititring family, ' • To put my. dreauss to flight, And try andsettle,h,is And take aTdrift at eight!' I:hear iwt.f4.okeilreadtalmuld .121 0 1 t.44bwir ie near . ; • I heirhim si horn, hrol 'Siad whet fits peieenadtalWAS:- He sonde the battle blast, And ah feat that helia hesell , ' • I tent thi ali, I' Deed tti *age -• With geniis in idle find; My hopes,. Lary:pil9rApl}elii% ' Are blasted in the bud ; I'm vanquished iu gl@ ronncl, - • laid he blitabi 4 E-fitht !" ' • In rain the rank ogara . aauPte, 144iikwild'and daSiierate grown; ' I try id • And sfint-the whidaw'lloven;. For Bfiji heWrAII ,O O.9I4IIWINA /AP'S, htenotaaprisly . _ Like Cook among the cannibals, • - "Thruseleaviio : apßealii, Or li,ke a :mum m.. wind inyeelf In sheetis frcitleadisi heel The' hungry_ Wititish4fasiploited ine out To make himself a meal ! . • • lie comes-by' , do, - Totchant hismothlng hymd ; •- - • Me: havereth: 0! =Alm hahy'4 oodcibt Just like the cherubim ; • , .• . By day Be•wadeth in the swamp, His legs urelong and ' • Ch! bear me to - some itiiiien Waste; . Where paler tempests blaw; . On train'oil'l Willigase•nidiioved, Or Greenland's olifti ottniow,- • And be content to pasa:myide9r Among the . ,: • our_MAlts, Mkt . . It witakia , glortoue: eveaufg in autumn when I reached the outskirts of my native village, after an absence of nearly :flay years, during whioh: time Ihad been rorighiy tocteed'abput.tho c rsoUgh *ota;lind, had contrivedtc; increase my wealth. and to 'impair my health to's considerable extent. A long , sojourn. in hot climates had broken my hale - -conetitution and mended my broken rfoitutietir;:tind after years of hard struggling, money and - the liver-complaint came into , lny l . possession together..- For. the former: I had long cherished a: sincere-regard,-but :to the lat ter I had many objetitions, upon which it is unnecessary here to dilate, I began to be afraid Of bank cut - efrili my prime (sixty7three) and, I disliked the idea of dying. for sever* reasnns., For many years I had been in death's way, but always. avoided, him as much as- possible; when on the field'of battld'l haVe thought it would be better to'nmeti him quietly and serenely on a sick-bat 'and when tossing and tumbling on a sick-bed I have thought it preferable to-be introdueed'to his notice amid s the- hurry, and-eonfusien.ef a field of battle ; : in fast, in - whatever way he seemed likely to itf , Pfeaetwinithat way I disliked him most, In the, cotmiry in which I rO sidedi. hia usuai,mode of introducing him self into'the company of peopla was through the Medium Of-his rascally : agent, yellow fever, and so I determined to depart and enjoy the rernainami of„ my days, in my .native land. Enjoy 'the remainder of my days! alas ! how' we mis-apply words. The time was, when the mere conscious ness of existence was 'enjoyment ; when a' scamper over the fieltisot match at cricket, or .a `fox-chase," was- superlative delight ; but now age, that is, middle-age, had overtaken me, and all the artificial Stimu lus that, riches could procurwfforded but a fleeting and transitory te‘g of some thing that resembled= enjoyment, yet fell far short of the original. But I will not moralize. As I said, it was a. glorious autumn eve ning when I reached my native village. The goldensun shed his parting rays upon a spot that had been hiug fondly treasured in my memory, and which latterly had seemed so much a picture of the imagina tion that it almost startled me to look at last upon the reality, and find it so like my day-dream for many a year. As 1 strolled along and looked around, the un forgotten scenes of many a youthful frolic successively presented themselves to my recollection,and through the . dim vista of sixty years I recalled the dayS of my child hood. g I will go to the spot, exclaimed I aloud, where I. used to meet Mary.' And thither I went. It was still the same;, a kind or natural arbor formed by nature in the little wood that skirted the village, for the accommodation of loiers who might chance to be overtaken in a shower in their evening r Walks. I, began to feel my dormant sensibilities awakening as I stood within it ; but perceiving two persons approach, I, concealed myself be hind some bushes tail they should have passed on, as I did not feel in the humor to be accosted by any one in my 'present state of mind. Unluckily the pair turned directly into the arbor, talking in a melt ing tone , of voice, which- sufficiently indi cated in whet relation they stood to each, other. I could not refrain• from looking.. The girl was extremely pretty; and her delicate complexion and rosy cheeks, were peculiarly agreeable to my eyes : . after the dusky tints ;I had been so long accustomed to in °then latitudes. The yonth was a fine, handsome'Stripling of about nineteen or twenty, with an open, glowing, and good-tempered countenance, mixed with a (faith of reckless daring that became it well,—just such another as I was myself about his time of life, Virhat's the matter, Mary V- tenderly, inquired he. How can you ask,_after whatloßhAve told me V But you know, dear "Mary, I bilist'asek fortune where she is to be found: iss. of: little avail to linger in this dull spot: But where.will you go? What will yow do ?' murmured Mary. Go anywhere—do anything—go for a soldier, or a sailor,'—the girl clung oloser to his arm at the idea---e or to India, *here I have.a rich old uncle—anywhere:so that I make money, 'and - then I will return again to-my dear, dear Mary.' To this very - definite, feasible, and: promisiOg scheme, poor Mail could `ogly reply by. tears, which the young rogue took the liberty dkissing away veryfreely; but at the same time ,tenderly , and` respe ct fully ; ,anff aftpr :muPISI -vows,, promises, and - prciteEitatione;theytook their. departure. When they were out of sight crept., from my Idding-place, , vcryJmuch affected by the - scene' Hula •-,inEitlwitnessed, and not a little , apprehebsiver:ef la' athlete of the` rheiimatialci'franriying 136 'loirig : canocaled upon the damp grass. repaided to the principal village anointed my limbs with-, some •patettr preventive rhemnatio liniment; End retired to ' rest, determined. in 'the morning to mains known to the - iti-:1 habitants- the -arriirel- of iheir wealthy l townsman._ .But,,alaa.!.. in _the_monlitig' found I Awls - anzongsestrangeia.. Neatly all ' WM lialfilitAirflife r ifeidtleat gbv.outitheremainder.,of,th,it•utie elsewherei A. feW "of•-• thyliffihoolunktes; ,'indeed balled wit sered old !pea.lo ea'-' .pressed their regret.la my= •ball: looks and infi valliaa;:atikcilticlo!bel. , (3 f.;#alt a ilept questions ; Ana .then went - gloat their:Wei. nese. My fatheroftkievAtililonga ago paid the debt of nnaftVe7-,-an i 4., my little breptheß;Ned Awl rgruwkup ;tea) man,. gqirr, Oia4t ' - fPiAaakitw -‘ e4o '•, PY absence,. and-&l*kfpp*yorg fellowwas.piesenta ed.to se,aspoor, qe44lyeal. - #Eeendint. I WV aata l F4l&aaPlktin&a 404 ' deal please d' to Was the - eanie" overheard 'the.' - Preceding evening. ' Well,' thought I, this is at - leist: some coinfdrt.' • I Wilfi3ri poor 'Mary's tears' Ned wag glad enough to •find a!rich•unclei. and 'doubtless indulged. in all- those _pleas ant Melons. of the future wkiolv.young peo;., plif are so expert ia.oreating. I bought a large house, took; him, : home with me, , and soon found there was no living without the rascal. He •I completely , wound . himself round my old eart, and, no won der.""He was the metireet,lardieet, hearti est fellow in creation ; . .could do - , pthing dance, sing, hunt, shoot, tail a boat; drive a' gig, creek a, joke or tell a story 'better than any one. Then he was so good-natured, and without 'the ilighteit approach to servility; put Up with my whims and ill :humorin n way:that made me like him ten times niore -than ever, the 'moment they were over. • The truth ! was, 1.. had a most , unforklatu,tetaperi such as no one could ;acquire except / those who have lived among slaves and-under a tropical sun. I was at times tieifect hurricane—a ' a tornado.' iiaid lone day after dinner, while we were taking onr - wine together—.4-6•Ned, •my boy, I think itie about tiine you had a wife.' • • • ; 111. . g Just as you say,' returned, my dutiful Whew- .'" Well, then, Ned, .i r have had some es perienee among women, and you shall have the udvantage of it ; I will look, out for you.' • T. , am much obhged to you, my dear uncle, but I, have already done that my self,' stammered Ned. I oottnterfiited•a look of infinite surprise. And prayitrho is'the latiy.l-4hat is her name ; Mary: Russell.' ; Mary what !' exclaimed, my feigned surprisc turned-to real. ' ; Mary Russell.' ; Not old Russell the, upholsterer's daughter, I hope,' said I. ; The same.' Then you shall never marry her, Ned,' cried I in a frenzy, or if you do, I'll dis inherit yon' All Ned's blood rushed to his face ; if it had not been for the ungenerous threat of disinheriting lam, he might have in quired the reason of my seemingly unac countable behavior ;' as it was, he scorned to do it. His,eyes sparkled—he started from his chair and exclaimed : But I will marry her, in spite of you and all the world.' I was now in one of my East India storms of passion. I knew not what I said, except that I uttered a torrent• of opprobious epithets. Ned eyed me fiercely at first, but checking his passion he waited quietly until I had exhausted myself, and then advancing towards me, said : Sir, do not think. I mean in the slight est degree to, deprecate your anger or shrink from what . 1 have said !' He paused a moment, then seized me by he hand and exclaimed : You have been kind—very kind to me, and r thank you for it, bat henceforth we are strangers. I wish you, sir, long life, good health, a better temper; and a more submissive dependant,' and he left the room. I raved like a madman. But I must first give some explanation of my very extraordinay conduct. ,The caseatood thus: When a stripling of twenty, I loved or fancied I loved, Miss' Mary Jenkins, and Miss Mary Jenkins loved or fancied Ithe loved me. At a ball one evening she gave it as her opinion that Mr. John Russell, a person for whom I had a great contempt, executed a pigeon-wing in a manner superior to any one in the room. Now I picqued myself excessively on my dancing, and, taking this as, a personal insult, I in sinuated that Miss Jenkins knew nothing of the matter. Miss Jenkins replied that I was a puppy, I retorted that she was a flirt ; both were probably right, but, that went for nothing.' ' She commanded me never to speak to her again, and I took her at_ her word. In abont a' week, however, rbegan to show symptoms of repentance, and made overtures for reconciliation ; but judge of my surprise when I was given to understand she was about to be married to another, and that the gentleman was no other than the identical Mr, John Russell. We diet in the street—quarreled—l sent him a challenge,—it gotwind, and we were both held to bail to keep the peace towards each other, and I left the place, deter mined to have my revenge one day or other. With a person of another temperament this would soon have been forgotten ; but. I was of an unforgiving disposition, and I nursed my wrath for years, till I exploded in the above discreditable, manner. After Ned was gone I felt thoroughly 'ashamed of myself. , . ~ I halloed to him, but he, would not turn, so I put my dignity in my pocket, my hat on my head, and ran after him. He was going straight toward old. Rusaell's dwelling. I strove to over take him before he reached it, and in my hurry struck my foot against a stone, and my pericranium came in contact with the pavement in a way that must have knocked my brains out if I had any ; but my con duet has . doubtlesearready shown that there , was no danger of such an event. When I recovered - r - found myself in a comfortable bed, the room half darkened, and my head The door opened and two persons approached the bed-side. 1% counterfeited sleep, and found .it was ,Mary Russell'and my nephew. It appeared I had been five -days in :tt delirious . fever, and Ned, poor boy, was expressing the ut most solicitude for my recovery, and at the same time cautioning ;: Mary never to let me know that he had been there. I could contain myself no tenger. ' , Ned,' 04011, s you shall Marry the girl;' . both started;' and this, the first sensible think I hadlaid or done, was, ia14p7,01 1 0, ..fresh proof insanity 4314.*Thl,00tkiineed them rim sane--'Npa;'l'Tppo4o4 ? sshalt . the girl . you haVe half * fortune now, aid d - the fist' ighen ,yonr . ' old finale ,dies ` In'phort all' was reconciled. ;'.14 old 'flame make ituibaaid-Munet4 1 round she had left off flirting, and he had quitted pigeon-wings and puppyism—taken d politics and porter, sind, instead of a ;cionsummate coacomb,was now respectable tradesman. Three weeks after:, Ned and 'Mary were married, and - it- made - me feel quite young again to look at the fair and 13looroMg bride, dressed .in virgin white, and blushing cellestial rosy -red—rlover's p*opei. huts.; And then the bridesmaids akipping about like young fawns, and amirlripg, giggling, and laughing if a male 'cttature did so much as look at them, I kissed them all aroun - d,. , and was pro_ . pounced the moat gallant• old gentle- Man ever seen in those parts, and walked a! minute with the bride's mOthari . told long incomprehensible stories, and--was epnveyed to bed in a high state of excite- Meat; My head aohed in the morning, bat got better as the day advanced. I leave the moral of this tale to the ingenuity of the reader MHID LATiriDAsTEIEL INTEILLIVAICIOCER •; JOH PRINTIITO ESTABL • -, No. 8- NOItTE{ DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, :PA. .The lobbing Denartineht Is' thoroughly farnishedrielth newand elegant typo of every description, and is under the chart.* of a practlcid and experienced Job - Prlnter.l.—• The Proprietors are prepared to . • PRINT CILECRS, NOTES, LEGAL RUNES, CARDS AND CIRCULARS, BILL AND HANDBILLS, !:, PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS, PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS„ PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING, with neatness, accursoyand dirpatch, on the most ressonr.. hie terme,and In . a manner not excelled by any ,eatablish ment in the city: ;Ea...Orders from a distance, by mail or, °thatch's, Promptly attended to. Address aiti: SANDERSON & 8 0 N, - , Intelligeficer Office, No. 8 North Duke street, Dane:eater, Ps. - . S'E AND 1:111.1` L OW. D•All 4_11; TATTERSAL'S HOB E POWDER, HEAVE POWDER, ROSIN, FENNUGREEK SULPHUR, GEURIAN, CREAM TARTAR, COPPER. For sale at THOMAS =MAK AS ER% Drug A Chemical Store, West Ring *treat, Ltish. feb 9 If 4 INFANTS' DRESS PRESERVERS PATBNT. This newlyliscoiered Invention Preeervea 'the Clothes froin being Soiled, rendere Nursing safe from lawn ventence, and ie a great comfort to Mothers And Nursee. To be had at ALL LADIES' STORES, and sent free. by poet, direct from the inventor, Mas. ARIAPIELD, No.' 612 Twelfth street, Washington, D. 0., by remittihr,the amount. MUCH, ONE DOLLAR EACH. LAD-YA GENTS WANE. E Jar- A liberal allowance made to the trade. oat 2 SPECIAL . NOTICE. WENTZ BROS Ofrer every possible inducement to CASH BUYERS OP DRY GOODS. Determined to reduce their stock, they give , GOOD BARGAINS. BEAUTIFUL FANCY BILES, At. 33, 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, Pointe, Shawle, Bornous, Eugenee, Freuoh and Chantilla Lace Goods in overy etyle—without regard to cost. 6-4 and Super Black MERINO AND DELAINH for Shawle. SUN UMBRELLAS AND PARASOLS. LARGE STOOK OP MEN'S AND BOYS' WEAR, AT LESS THAN MANTIPATIISEH'S MOS. A great sacrifice in a lot of • BEREGES AND, LAWNS, Which are closing out at 1234 cents—one half price. Great bargains In COLLARS and SLEEVES from Auction, WENTZ BROS., East King and Centre Square. June 18 St p] NEW SPRING MILLINERY Goopg The subscriber has just returned fromoPhiladelphis and Now York, with a complete and well selected stock of SPRING AND SUMMER MILLINERY GOODS, which he offers to the public, in general, at wholesale and retail, for the lowest cash prices. My stock consists in Silks of all colors, Crimea Lawns, Bamlge, Mode, Tarlton, Grown Lining, Capenett, Jetinblond, Quißings, French and Ameri can Flowers, Silklace, Edging, Strawgimp, bons of the .newest style, Wire, Bonnet-Frames, Bonnet-Blocks, Straw Bonnets, Hats and Shakers of all colors, and the newest style and shape; Ban- net materials, and Trimmings of all kinds, 'Jewelry, Notions, Dry Goode, and n great many articles too darner ousto mention. Also, TRIMMED AND. READY MADE BONEETS all the time on hand of the very latent fashion, which he offers cheaper Ilion the cheapest, • The subscriber Ts thankful for past favors, and 'hopes a' continuance of all his old customers and plenty more new. ones. L. BAUM, No. 81 North Queeh street, Lancaster, re.. • 8m 10 LIFE OR DEATH.--The subscribers take pleasure in announcing that they are now Ike• pared to mail (tree) to those who wish it, a copy of an Im portant little work, by the late Dr. Brampton, entitled "VIII INVALID'S MEDICAL _CONFIDANT," published for the benefit, and as a warning to young men and per sons who suffer from Nervous Debility, Premature Decay, /to, do supplying the means of self cure. The reader is irresistibly led to compare a useful life with an Ignoble death. - Reader, lose not a moment, but send your addroisa for's oopY or this little Work. Address the Publishere. • DR. JOHN B. OGDEN & CO., 64 and 66 John St., New Tort: apr r 3m 16] ClLOAritt AND INANTILLAS. every novelty of the season. The richest 'materials, the beet work, and prices lower than ever. DIENS, No. 23 South 9th Street, Philadelphia. '0 IT Y °LOA t3' T =Oll No. 142 Sottth Bth Strut, Philadelphia. Cloth Cloaks, in endless variety; Silk Cloaks and Man tillas in every quality, style and cost, at prices that enable us to defy competition. FASHIONABLE CLOAKS.' If you want style and quality, go to the Paris Mantilla, Store, N. E. Corner Eighth and Walnut Ste., Philadelphia. , SPLENDID SILK MANTLES. The largest and moat fashionable Stook in the clty. N. E. Corner Eighth and 'Walnut Ste, Philadelphig. CLOAK'S I CLOAKS I I CLOAKS! I I Elegant Naw Store. Magnificent Goods, No. 29" South 9th Street, third door below TEENS, may 21 Philadelphia. am 19 1 - 211CORPOR.A.TIDD /61101 HARTFORD FIRE INSURANCE COMPANy; OE' HARTFORD, OONN. • , 0 CAPITAL AND ASSETS $936,709.0. H. HIINTINGTON„Treeidant.: P. C. Amaze, Secretary. Policies leaned and renewed; losses equitably adjusted and paid immediately upon satisfactory. proofs, New , York funds, by the undersigned, the DULYAUTHORIZED AGENT. • JAMES SLAM,' oct 231 y 411 .. Agent for Lancaster& CIRCUL AR. ANEW DRMOGRATLO MORNING PAPRR "7 H E N 1 0.-Ni" • With a view to meet a universally admitted .want, the undersigned will taxmen Monday, the let of July next, a Morning Penny Paper, to be called ‘' TECH UNION." has evergreat mission of the Democratla .Party, which has ever stood as the bulwark of the Unkm:arid the Champion of the Constitution, renders its entire unity and bold atti, tude In this hour of National peril a matter of vital con.' cern: The pending struggle's not less for the maintenance of a United Country than for the Perpetuation of Demo. craUc Principles, as expounded by Jefferson and Jackson:: The most momentous results hang upon • the Lune. Biers party questions are for the time by common consent 'adz journed. The pact is dead, save in italessons of experience,- • The Democratic hosts have not shrunk from theie.full • share to the and dangers of the emergency., They have rallied with one accord around the standard of our common country. But tlie•occasion imposes other', duties. The - ouseerunant wiliViegemd and, receive the willing support of every pabiotarfitiefforts to vinditatte the National' honor and reggiaorCA• Natlonai autiartAt; but the Preservstion of . 06fistitnifonal Liberty rests more with the people than with Colognes and Cabinet,. Vigibmair and Unity are therefore spectsli9 requisite in the present juncture. V It is the purpose of , 'Proprietary yp make .THE UNION," in every respect a limitless Journal. Ate Democracy of the whole State feel the need of a bad' and vigorous Metropolitan daily; and no effort eparedr to render THE 'UNION" both popular and and ' aided aa a newspaper, and as a fearless exponent .of the pent, principles for which the Democratic party hive ever con tended, and which are now so unhappilyttsperilled: The Proprietors have perfected such, arrangements am, will place the enterprise, from the beginning, upon ' a stantiel,businems basis, with abundant means to . Enke a Newspaper mooed in interest and ability to no other in the city; and while the paper will be,Diarlessly Demeeratic. 'will sedulously avoid all faction, as the deadliest bane - to party efficiency. . . _ . We look toll's DEMOCRATIC/ KABBIIB for support, and labor to. make "T 8& UNION" in every.wal worthy their confidence and liberal petronage, as Ufresb, Wadable . and fearless Journ a l. • . • , - TERMS:—Per lama= Three Dollars, or Hers SIX OEDTE PER MEM, . • June 18 No. 130 &sath Third BC., Philadelphia Pa., !-,1 ,7„t_p; TAMES , Et . EAREER MACY ANDIV.IIOBOFt CHAIR. AUB , : .,5 No. 5 53ft ,Zairt King ; afro o tiikaos or, ,!, t Takes pleaaarCin Inviting the pubUo to eaflat Wait,- 'mama•',and:azlmine 'hie BILMMEVAESOBEEpt . O. OHLI.ftS OP ,VdplOOB PATTEMS, tkoa?OlIDE113 taeitted lad Trothigly attatillatrlt at tilt? abetted maga). XX la bat 4 4bff 1 0,01 %IMAM !Wilda eatatUAment, 'oonseqiikitly•auffor ttil+hoWie_firft4 l lY o o34 toPl4.4dl4olol*the &Oak 003811. OW and exiiinixie for yoursiairea. Laaiel6 Ty Sr profits*, iwizon tu itary ttti o : h 7 67l4 tO tur, ot I I -ar iii be o , f c tb a7 titi7 wr ,. anir jr.reia , lo4, ,;.00. • 3 s - s. AUMAII .115:4011MiWii xi) it tf 22] ' • NO.- 28.
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