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Those of greater length in proportion. JOB Puutna—Such u Hand , Bills, Posters, Pamphlet!, Blanks, Labels, dn., *e., executed with accuracy and on shortest notice. THE OLD MILLER BY W. N. DAVIDSON I knew an old miller in boyhood, Who lived on the side of a hill, In the sound of the falling waters, And nigh by a clattering mill. I remember the low ancient cottage, The Clustering ivy that clung To the stately and olden linden That over the gable hung. A pathway led down through the garden And out through a latticed gate, That swung on its wooden hinges With a sad and complaining grate. And on through a little meadow, Where cattle used to graze, And a spring-book used to babble Through long, bright summer days, Till it joined the highway to the village, That ran at the foot of the bill, And there stood the bourne of my travels— The dingy-and clattering mill. How lofty it was, and so narrow ! The rafters how peaked and tall ! The angles so crooked and leaning, Men said the old building would fall The miller but smiled at the warning, And unto them, gayly, he said : "My friends, the old mill will be standing, Long years when the miller is dead." " Oh, give me the clash of the gearing, The buzzing, and whirring, and jar Of the stone," he would say, "I would rather Have these than the wealth of the Czar !" Ah ! well I remember the miller; In fancy, I see him to-night, As I saw him in days of my childhood, His clothing all mottled with white. And his musical accents are ringing In memory's galleries still, As away in the past I have heard them, Above the loud clang of the mill. Thrice Famine had spread his dark pinions And Want brooded sore in the land, And oft were the poor and the widow Relieved with a bountiful hand. xn. For never, when hunger oppressed them, And dreary and dark was the day, Went they to the miller for succor And came empty-handed away. I remember the high and wide door-way, The form that led up to the sill, The hook and the ponderous cable That hung from the top of the mill. And the queer oaken doors as I saw them, The upper one ever ajar, I wondered with innocent wonder What so many nails could be for! One night, when the river was swollen, And Thor was abroad on the blast, Recording his journey in lightnings, And bowing the woods as he passed, xv'. The family up at the cottage Were praying the God of the storm, Whatever of ill should betide them, To shelter the good miller's form. But, oh! as their prayers were ascending High up to the radiant Hill Of Promise for aid and protection, They heard the loud fall of the mill ! XVIII. " The chastening hand of Our Father In wisdom is over us all !" Cried the reverent dame ; but its shadow Lay over her soul as a pall. The glorious eye of the morning Looked down on the olden scene— The cot, the brook, and the garden, And meadow so quiet and green. But where was the dingy old building, So leaning, and narrow, and high, With roof all so lofty and peaked, It seemed to be piercing the sky? xx'. Down under its wide-scattered rains The miller lay rigid and still, And the heart that beat warm for his fellows Was bloodless forever and chill! xxu. They buried him nigh by his cottage— His tomb could be seen from its door, And graved on it: Here lies a miller; He never took toll from the poor!" [New York Mercury THREE WILD STORIES. The Samoyedes, whose - country will readily he found in the northern extremity of Asiatic Russia, belong to that large family of the human race which comprises the Turks, the Mongols, the Tungusians, and the Finns, with all their subdivisions, and which is distinguished by ethnologists as the 'Altaic.' Their life is chiefly passed in the desert regions bordering the Arctic Ocean,' which arc sometimes damp and marshy ; and their principal property con sists of the reindeer which convey them from place to place when they feel it necessary to change the site of their en campments. Tents are their only dwelling places, and so completely are they wedded to a nomadic life, that it seems probable they, will rather be extinguished than bene fited by the progress of civilization., Among these primitive people the great Altaic philologist, M. Alexander Castaen, found a set of tales, which for wildness equal the - most fantastic dreams of the Hindoos. The heroes to which they refer are completely free from all law, moral or physical ; virtue is by no means neces sarily rewarded, nor is death an unsur mountable obstacle in the way of an as piring genius. With these tales, in a con densed form, we present our readers. A tribe of Samoyedes, seven hundred strong, was encamped in as many - tents, under the rule of seven chiefs, all members of one family, and all maintaining the dignity of their office by devoting their time, talents, and energies to the single purpose of dining out. Six of these great chiefs were childless, but the other, the eldest, had a boy, who, far from sharing in the family propensity, never went out at all, but snored away his existence in bed. On one occasion, when a great festival was coming off, the father of this heavy youth asked him to join in the party but he- re fused with a yawn, alleging as an excuse that he had a bad dream, which showed him that all the seven chiefs would perish miserably unless they appeased the higher powers by a sacrifice of fourteen reindeer. The father,laughed at the dream; but, when the next morning dawned, the hor rible reality far exceeded the dismal pre_ diction, for the youth, opening his eyes, found that not only the seven 'chiefs, but the whole seven hundred personages, with their reindeer and dogs, had come to an untimely end. The frightful sPeotacle aroused him to unwonted activity, and having first cut all the cords of the tents, he et OUt on a long - walk, which, at the end of some long months, be found too nitich for his strength, especially as he was not fortified by a particle of food. At last he came to the site of a former encamp ment, where he found a bone, already gnawed by the dogs, but which, in the present emergency, was not to be despised. Having regaled himself with this delicacy, he raked about the snow, in hopes of mak ing more discoveries of the same kind, but he, only found a pair of silver ear rings, which he put into his glove, and then set out on another long walk, seeing nothing at all till his eyes were gladdened with the sight of a reindeer sledge. Have you found ear-rings," said a woman who was the sole occupant of the vehicle ; I because if yon . have, yon may as well hand them over.' . Yes, I have found them, and I've got them in my glove. You may, take them, and welcome, if you'll only drive me to some place where I can find a little society.' To this very modept request the woman replied by giving the Wanderer (as we shall call him) such a blow with her spear that he fell senseless. She then took the ear-rings, and rode on as if nothing had happened. The blow of the spear had a narcotic effect, and the wanderer passed a long time in sleep. On resuming his dull journey across the boundless desert he came to a site of another encampment, again enjoyed the luxury of a gnawed bone, and seeking in the snow for more, discovered an iron shovel. This proved more service able than the ear-rings, for a finely dressed lady, who met him shortly afterwards, and asked for her shovel, rewarded his good office in restoring it by driving him home to her tent. They indulged in pleasant ' converse on the way, the Wanderer talking about the inhabitants of the seven hun dred tents, and their untimely end, of which the lady had heard somewhat already, but desired to hear more, till at last the dialogue took a new turn, through the lady's remark that the rein deer in the sledge were uncommonly like his late father's stock ; for the elderly gentle man who had presented the lady with this fine pair of animals, and also with the iron shovel, had intended them for bridal gifts, in consideration of her approaching mar riage with his son. This son was clearly the Wanderer, so that the happy lady had at once found her intended husband and recovered her lost shovel. They lived together happily enough as man and wife, till the time arrived for re moving the camp. Then the Wanderer discovered that, although he had agreed I very well with his wife, he was far from ; popular with the inhabitants of the neigh- j boring tents. When the tribe commenced I its march, he was provided with worse reindeer than the rest, so that he always lagged behind, and when at last a halt al lowed him to overtake his comrades, one of them artfully contrived to run a spear , through his body. The party then moved ! merrily onward, as if nothing had hap- ' pened, and though the bereaved lady re mained behind, weeping in the sledge, her deer soon took fright and carried her after the others. Dead as he was, the Wanderer retained sense enough to be aware of the presence of an old man, who had but one eye, one hand, and one leg, and who, striking him with an iron staff, bade him hasten back home, where he would find his father and all his uncles alive. Thus ad monished, he woke up and found himself alone; but, instead of following the old man's salutary counsel, he rejoined his wife and companions, who had again halted, and was rewarded for his obstinacy by being killed again, with same weapon as before. This time his wife did not think it worth while to stop behind and weep, but continued her journey with the others, firm in the conviction that he who got up once could easily get up twice. Nor was she wrong. The defective old man again resuscitated the dead wanderer with a touch of his iron staff, again advising him to return home, and informing him that his father was not only alive, but he had been alive for some time. As the Wanderer had witnessed the destruction of the family with his own eyes, this last assertion con siderably weakened his confidence in the old man's veracity, so he joined his wife and comrades, .aho had again halted, as before, and with the same result, for the same man killed him for a third time, with the same spear. The old gentleman, whose patience was nearly exhausted, again revived the corpse with the iron staff, but took occasion to observe that he did not intend to repeat the operation. The Wanderer had now become a little—very little wiser by the experience. As the murderer had always artfully persuaded him to look another way while the mortal wound was inflicted, he had never been properly aware of his own death, but had regarded his one-eyed benefactor as one of the images in a strange dream. However, a man is not to be killed three times for nothing, so when he again joined the camp, strong In the sus picion that he would meet with foul play, he resolved to strike the first- blow. In stead of entering his tent as before, he took all the bows and arrows out of the sledges while his comrades were sleeping, and then hewed down the tents with his wife's iron shovel. The sleepers, thus violently awakened, rushed from the tents, and being deprived of their weapons, were easily despatched. Our hero had inten tionally spared none but his wife's nearest relations, but when he surveyed the corpses, he was grievously disappointed at the dis covery that the miscreant, who had slain him three times over was not among them. The persevering villain had escaped.— Still there were traces of his feet upon the snow, and these the vengeful shovel-bearer followed, till at length he overtook the treble assassin. Frightful and long was the single combat that ensued. It lasted through the whole winter, and just as sum mer set in; both combatants dropped down dead, affording a savory repast to the wolves and foxes, who soon reduced them to a heap of fleshless bones. The one-eyed old gentleman, resolved that the story should not end here, paid a visit to the bones about the beginning of the autumn, and collected these of the Wanderer into a bag, grumbling very much that his good advice had not been followed, and informing his pieeemeal protege that this was'the last time he meant to serve him. He would give.the Wanderer one more trial, and now, lie trtuited, the wilful youth would go - hoine, schooled as he had been by Such very bitter experience. With the bag on his back, the one-eyed old gentleman crept into , a hollow, after rolling aside &atone that, stopped the -en " THAT COUNTRY IS TER MOST PROIXTIROVI3 um LABOR 00101AMINEI THE GRIATZEIT EXWA.IID."-BIIONANAN. LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, J ULY 30,1861. trance, and found himself in a dark, dismal place, in which there was all manner of disorderly 'whistling and singing, while sundry hands sought to make a capture of the bag. When the old man's eye grew a little more accustomed to the situation, he could perceive by the light thatisstied from the other end of the room that the snatchers and whistlers were all fleshless skeletons ; but as this was a matter of trifling moment, he walked up towards the light, and found a tent, within which a -fire was burning, while an old crone, whose large eyes were placed vertically in her head, sat on the hearth with two unwield -ly monsters for companions. Here's some firewood for ye,' growled the one-eyed old man, pitching his 'bag at the old woman. Thank ye ! We were sadly out of it,' replied the crone, and threw the bones on the fire which speedily converted them into ashes. On these the old woman slept for three whole days, at the end of which they produced a uman form—namely, that of our friend, the Wanderer, who could not make out where he was, and felt particularly awed by the aspect of the two monsters. These, the old lady informed him, had been very estimable persons in their time, but were now converted to stone ; and she gave him to understand that if he did not take her for a wife he would be petrified likewise. Honestly avowing that he was married already, the Wanderer complied with her request, and the old dame, not to be behindhand in generosity, promised to drive him home.— So, after a short honeymoon of three days, the reindeer were put to the lady's sledge, and bride and bridegroom rode merrily towards the mouth of the hollow, pursued all the way by the mob of skeletons, who tried to wound the stranger with their spears, but were rendered powerless by the counter charm of the reindeer. The stone at the mouth of the hollow was so weighty that the 'Wanderer could not re store it to its place, but this operation was gracefully performed by the old woman with a kick; and a little more journeying brought the loving couple to a tent where they found the first wife and both her parents. These jumped into the sledge, which now proceeded with all speed to the Wanderer's first home--the old place with the seven hundred tents, in which every body had been murdered when he was a little sleepy boy. There were the dear old tents all erect again, not one of the seven hundred mis ing ; there were the people, and their deer, and their dogs just as if nothing had happened, and the Wanderer had a right to exact a little repose after his toilsome vicissitudes. There, too, was that good creature, the little old man with one eye, and, sad to say, behind the old man was the hateful villain who had so many times caused our hero's death. Of course, two such inveterate foes could not meet with out fighting, and though the Wanderer soon despatched his adversary, his victory was immediately followed by insanity, and he killed his one-eyed benefactor into the bargain. Off like a whiff of smoke went the beautiful vision of domestic felicity. The existence of the people in the tents was manifestly contingent on the life of the old man, for when the wanderer ap proached his boyhood's home, he found all dead, and his two wives instantly died likewise, leaving him in a state of hopeless solicitude. Thus the story leaves off, as it began, with a heap of corpses, and, what is the strangest part of the matter, most of the people who die at the end are those who die at the beginning. Seven brothers, who are heartless in the most literal sense of the word, figure in a tale that is distinguished from the others by something of a 'poetical tone. These seven brothers have murdered an old Sam oyede lady and carried off her daughter, but there is a pious son, who has obtained a supernaturally gifted beauty for his wife, and hopes, with her aid, to repair the mis chief that has been done. The great point is to get the hearts of the brothers, which they are in the habit of taking out of their bosoms every night before they retire to rest, and which they very imprudently en trust to the care of the captive girl. When the Samoyede and his wife enter the tent belonging to the brothers, the la dy is invisible, but the husband accosts his sister, whom he finds alone. The broth ers, she informs him, are from home at present, but will return in the evening, and she gives him ample instructions how he is to proceed in his pious work. What these instructions were will be shown by the manner in which they were carried oat, though we must promise that the hero slinks off to his own residence, and his wife undertakes the achievement of the adventure. When the brothers come home, they eat their supper, and, spreading out seven deerskins on the ground, lay themselves down to rest. The captive maiden then goes round to them all with a dish. In this they place their hearts, which are afterwards hung on one of the tent poles by the treacherous attendant. The wife, securing her prize, returns with it to her husband, who, on the following morning, pays the brothers a visit, and finds them all in a wretched state. Six of the hearts he oasts on the ground, and the six youogei brothers immediately die, but the seventh is informed that if he will restore the deceased old lady to life, he may have his heart back. The desired resuscitation is effected by means of certain charms, but . the seventh heart is nevertheless thrown on the ground, and the eldest brother perishes like the rest, while the Avenger takes his mother and sister home. An important personage in the family of the Avenger is his father's sister. It was by her oonsel that he obtained his gifted wife detained her garment while she was bathing with her six sisters, and refusing to restore it' till she had promised not to leave him. In fairy tales all the world over this mode of ensnaring semi-super natural personagesis exceedingly common, and therefore' we but lightly touch on this incident, as being less characteristic than any of the others. The wise aunt, consulted once by her nephew, presents him with a knife, that he is to give his wife, who will assuredly make a proper use of it. With these injunctions the nephew complies, and the wife no sooner receives the weapon than shd outs out the heart of every one in the tent, in cluding her own and 'her husband's, and flings them up in the air. The aunt visit ing the tent, finds every one alive, though destitute of the most important organ of vitality ; and, with a view of recovering the'lCit hearts, proceeds to ';'a lake, where the six sisters of the wife are bathing, and weeping for the seventh: Detaining the clothes of one of the bathers, she will not restore them save in exchange for a, num ber of hearts, found by the sisters at their mrial residence, and which may possibly be those recently extracted. Loaded with these - hearts, which have been purified in a celestial region, the aunt returns to the tent, and all on receiving their hearts be come pure, and holy. The wife proposes that they should now join her sisters, and ascending through the air in a' reindeer sledge, they penetrated a thick mist, and at last reach a warm, blissful place, in which they are living to the present day. In consequence of missionary operations, "the legends of the Finnish , -raceir not un frequcitly -show a carious mixture of the Christian with the national elements, ,the Apostles sometimes appearing as poiverful allies of , the ancient gods. We can: hardly -help suspecting that the Christian doctrine of regeneration is to some extent shadowed forth ; in this last and least savage' of our Samoyede tales. ' Incident of. Camp Life. The humors. of camp-life are well worth printing very often, as in the ease of the . . following side-splitting incident narrated by the Washington gossip of the New York Mercury : For the last two months as yon are aware, our city has been one vast camp ; and as,all the public departments had or ganized military companies for the protec tion of the buildings, the Government printing-office employees, no less loyal to the Union, determined to follow in their wake and organize a company also. The intention was no sooner circulated among the men than a long list of names was received of the ablest young men in the office. But among them was one individ ual, named Nubbs ' who, by some means or influence, was admitted in the company against the wish of nearly three-fourths of the members ; not that he was not a good Union man, but because he loved his bit ters better than his duty, and they were afraid to tenet him an duty when he had been drinking. It so happened that, the very first night the company went into active service, it fell to the lot of g Nubbs;among six others, to stand guard outside the building ; and as he was no friend of the corporal, the latter, determined to give him the most solitary post in his power,and placed him on the north side of the building, next to an old graveyard. Nubbs ' being possessed of no extraor dinary share of courage, fortified himself with a large bottle of his favorite beverage —whisky—to keep him company, and give him consolation during the two long weary hours he was compelled to keep guard.— Before going, on duty, he was provided with an old flint-lock musket, which for the want of balls, was loaded with some old g p i . , It was twelve o'clock when he was march ed out to his post.; and after receiving-in structions to let no one pass without it,' he was left alone with his fears, reflections, and whisky. The time, place, and hour all conspired to make poor ( Nubbs' send his ' best friend,' the bottle, on frequent excursions to his month; and before the first half of his two hours expired, he had kissed his best friend' to death, and consigned it to an uncovered grave in the burying-ground opposite. ( Nubbs' courage by this time being equal to any emergency,' he walked his post like & Roman sentinel; but, unlike one, he wandered far out of his limits, and halted not until he came to a well-known resort of his, a public-house, kept by one Flanigan, and there kept guard for at least two hours, thinking it was the office that he was watching so vigilantly, and cursing the corporal for keeping him on duty so long. He had already driven off two in truders—boarders .)f Flanigan's, who had been out pretty late—because they refused to give the countersign, when a third party approached, and was quickly challenged by our attentive sentinel with, Who goes there V No answer. 4 Who goes there, I say l Stand, or I'll fire ! ' As no answer was returned, Nubbs' brought hie 'shooting-stink' to his shoulder, and fired at the approaching object, which he could dimly see in , the distance. No sooner had he discharged his musket, than the terrible deed flashed upon his mind with such vividness that it caused him to recover his sober senses ; and throw down his old flint-lock, he ran to, see if he could, be of any assistance to the -unfortun ate victim of his rashness; foi'he was quite sure he had struok the object, as it had not moved since he fired ; but what was his as tonishment when, on coming up to it, he discovered he had shot, not a traitor, but a fine large hog ! Nubbs first thoughts were to bury the hog, and say nothing about it ; bat as he had nothing to dig a hole with, he con cluded to drag it to Flanigan's yard, and leave it till morning, with the hope that he could get it away before any one discovered it. But Flanigan, having seen some one guarding his house in the night; got up much earlier than usual to discover the cause of it; and the first object that met his view was the dead hog, with a lot of old type sticking' in his head. It was not long before the affair leaked out, and Nubbs was compelled to undergo an examination before the captain, who sen tenced him to 'hunt for the owner of the hog until found, and pay the value of it.' Although, Nubbs strenuously contended that he was only following his instructions to let no one pass without the counter- sign,' he was compelled to seek the owner and pay for the hog. And he says, to this day, that he spent more money, drank more whisky, and traveled . over more ground than ever he did in one day before in his life, 'just to find the owner of a darned dead hog !' DELICIOUS TEA CAKE.--Beat to cream 7-ounces of sweet butter; beat to a stiff froth the whites of 8 eggs, and mix grad ually with it 1 pound of flour, together with the butter and half a nutmeg grated. Bake in a pan lined with buttered papers Almonds blanched and pounded may be substituted for the butter. 0" There are" two classes of disappoint ed lovers , those who are'disappointed be fore tainiage, and more unhaptryZones Who ante disappointed after it. • SALLIE AND I. BY AMAIN M. DUCIANN . Z. We're in themarket—,Sallie and I Are there no bachelors willing to buy? None who have courage enough to propose; None who have wisdom enough to disclose That they've shirts without buttons, and pants with out straps, They have vests with fringed edges, and coats with torn flaps,. And their last winter's hose are minus of toes, And their uncovered heels areiike to get froze, For lack of such bodies as Sallie and I To attend to the•wants and the woes we espy ! We are no coquettes and I So free-lavingdandies need not apply— Beauty's admirers or. Wit's devotees Need not approach, for we never shall please But we know of a oirole Whose names are untold In Fame's shining temples or mansions of gold, Whose life without spot, or blemish, or blotf liave won them the honor the world giveth For such, worthy bachelors, Sallie and I - Still wait in the Market—will ye not buy? • 'Unsullied Virtue, Sallie and I, Only nan offer to those who-apply— Hearts walla and loving we've striven to, blend - With hands ever ready in need to befriend; And our lips seldom gossip,. our feet Wirely roam 'Beyond the charmed precincts of childhood's sweet home— And to wash, brew or bake, small splatter we make, For " Quiet and Thrift" is the motto we take— Oh! rare such housewives as Sallie and I : Lonely old bachelors, will ye not buy ? We're in the market—Sallie and :I Shall we be left in•the market to die? Swiftly youth's fleeting years over us go, Dimmer the rays from Hope's beacon light glow, And the dimples where Cupid hath chosen his bed, Too long left nnkissect, will be wrinkles instead— And our hearts, like the May, will forget to be gay If Love's fragrant blossoms ne'er dawn on our way : Such is the petition Sallie and I. Offer so bachelors—pray, will yci'buy ? A Soldier's Emotion in Battle. Our citizen soldiers inexperienced in the battle field will, find the most terrible moments just before the battle begins.— A soldier in his narration of personal ad ventures in the Mexican war, published in Howe's 4chievements of -americans,' gives some interesting items on this head in his description of the battle of Palo Alto, the opening battle of the war. When all was ready, both armiesstood still for about twenty minutes, each wait ing for the other to begin the work of death, and during this time I did not see a single man of the enemy move ; they stood like statues. We remained quiet with two exceptions. General Taylor, followed by his staff, rode from left to right at a slow pace, with his leg thrown over like a woman, and as he passed each regi ment, he spoke words of encouragement. I know not what he said to the others, but when he came to where we stood, he look ed steadily at us ; I suppose to see what . effect the novel circumstance in which we were placed had upon us, and as he gazed, he said : The bayonet, my hardy cocks ! the bayonet is the thing ! ' The other oc casion was that of Lieut. Black, of the en gineers, who volunteered to gallop along the enemy's line in front of both armies, and count their guns; and so close did he go that he might have been shot a hun dred times. One of the officers of the en emy, doubtless thinking he had some com munication to make, rode out to meet him, Black, however, paid no attention to him but rode on, and then returned and repor ted to Taylor. Thus stood those two belligerent ar mies, face to face. What were the feel ings of those thousands. How many thoughts and fears were crowded into those few moments l Look at our men ! a clammy sweat is settled all over faces slightly pale, not from cowardly fear, but froui an awful sense of peril, combined with a determination not to flinch from duty. These are the moments in which true soldiers resign themselves to the re flection that whatever may befall them they will act with honor ; these are the moments when the absolute coward suffers more than death—when, if not certain he would be, shot in the tracks he would turn and flee. Fighting is very hard work ; the man who has passed through a two hours' fight, has lived through a great a mount of mental and uhysical labor. At the end of a battle I always found that I had perspired so profus'ely as to wet through all my thick woolen clothing, and when I had got cool, I was as sore as if I had been beaten all over with a club. When the battle commences the feelings undergo a change. Reader, did you ever see your house on fire? if so, it was then you rushed into great danger : it was then you, went over places, climbed over walls, lifted heavy loads, which you never could have done in your cooler moments ; you then have ex perienced some of the excitement, of a sol dier in battle. I always knew my danger —that at any moment I was liable to be' killed, yet such was my excitement that I never fully realized it. All men are not alike ; some are cool ; some are perfectly, wild or crazy ; others are so prostrated by fear that they are completely unnerved-- art awful sinking and relaxation of all their energies takes place, awful to behold ;they tremble like an aspen, sink into ditches and covert places, cry like children, and are totally insensible to shttme—dead to every emotion but the overwhelming fear of instant death. We had a few, and brit a few, of such in our army. As the two armies were facing each other, it was remarkable to see the cool ness of our men ; there they stood, chew ing bits of biscuits, and talking about the Mexicans—some wondering if they would fight; others allowing that they would, and like demons, &c. I. kept my eye on the artillery of the enemy, and happened to be looking toward their right wing *hen suddenly a white curl of smoke sprang up there from, one of their guns, and then I saw the dust fly some distance in front where the ball struck. Instantly another, and then another rich curl of smoke arose, succeeded by a booming sound, and the shot came crashing toward us. The enemy fired very a rapidly, and their balls knooked the dust about us . in.ali direc4ens—some went over our helids," others 'struck the ground in front and bounded away; Our batteries now went to work, and poured in upon them a perfect• storm of iron. Lieut. Churchill and his men began with their eighteen pounders, and when the first was fired it made such a loud re port that our men gave a spontaneous shout, which seemed to inspire us with renewed, roonfidence. I could hear eveiy word the Lieutenant said to his men. When the first shot was fired, he watched the ball, saying, 'Too high; men ; 'try another r , too low, then ; try again the:third time is the harm !' The third shot was • lied, and I saw with my own eyes the dreadful effeci: of that and follewiCg Flo* Vhat'a it, my boys !'shon . Churchill, jumping up. about two feet ; 'yon have them now! keep 'her.at that , and so they did, and every shot tore complete lanes through - the imemya Untie.; but 'they. stood it Man fully:'Tfri •oliorits battle - rae. •.1 rirl ", I.IT ged ; twenty-three pieces of •arfallers belched forth 'their iron , hail. . We were ordered to lie down in the grass to avoid the shot ; this puzzled the enemy, anittheroculd not bring their guns to bear upon us,, Making our less very small. Many were the narrow escapes, one ball came withiti six inches of my.side. The force of.the shot wits tremendous.; . horse'S body : La:01)- obstacle 'at ; man's leg was a mere pipe stem. I watch ed ••the shot as it struck the'roots of the grass, and it yas,aitoilishing how'he dust flew. Li about ann - hour the :grass caught on fire, and the °Muds of smoke shut out the opposing armies from view. We had not as yet lost alnan from our regiment.— In the obscurity the enemy changed their' line, and this eighteen pounders, supported by our regiment, took a new position on af little'rise of ground. As are moved on to . the spot, a six poutid shot carried away the lower jaw of Capt. Page, and then took off a man's bead on the right, as clean as with a knife. The blood of, poor Page was the first I saw.; he was knocked down in the grass,, mid, as he endeavored to raise himself, he presented such a ghasty spectacle that a sickly, fainting sensation came over me, and the memory of that night I shall carry with me to my' dying dv. A little later Major Ringgold was --Tortally wounded at his battery ;I. saw him just after it. The shot had torn away a portion of the flesh of his thighs ; its force was tremendous, cutting off both his pistols at the lock, and also the withers of his horse—a splendid steed, which was killed to relieve him of his misery. The enemy, tried hard, but without avail, to hit our eighteen pounders: The battle continued until, night put an end to the scene. We bivoucked where we were, and laid on on our arms ; we slept, however, but little, thinking we might be attacked in our sleep. The enemy had - been eery severely han dled owing to the superiority of our artil lery. The gunners went into it more, like butchers than mi/itary, men ; each strip ping off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and tie/ his suspenders around his waist ; they all wore red flannel shirts, and, therefore, were in uniform. To see them limbering and unlimbering, firing a few shots, then dashing through the smoke, and then to fire again with lightning-like rapidity, partly hid from view by dense clouds of smoke and dust; with their dark red shirts and naked arms, yelling at every shot made, reminded me of a baud of demons rather than of men. The Tailor and. Dean Swift. A tailor in Dublin, near the residence of the Dean, took it into his head that he was specially and divinely inspired to interpret the prophecies, and especially the book of Revelation: Quitting the shop board, he turned out a preacher, or rather a prophet, until his customers had left his shop, and his family was likely to famish. His monomania was well known to Dean Swift, who benevolently watched for some convenient opportunity to turn the current of his thoughts. One night the tailor as he fancied, got a special revelation to go and convert Dian Swift, and the next morning took up his line of March for the deanery. The Dean whose study was fur nished a glass door, saw the tailor ap proach, and instantly surmised the nature of his errand. Throwing himself into an attitude of solemnity and his eyes fixed on the tenth chapter of-Revelation, he awaited his approach. The door opened, and the tailor an nounced in an unearthly voice, the mes sage. Dean Swift, lam sent by the Almighty to announce to you—' 'Come in my friend,' said the Dean, lam in great trouble, and' no doubt the Lord has sent you to help me out of my difficulty.' This unexpected welcome inspired the tailor, strengthened greatly his assurance in his own prophetic character, and dis posed him to listen to the disclosure. My friend,' said the Dean, I have just been reading the tenth chapter of Revela tion, and am greatly distressed at a diffi culty I have met with ; and you are the very man sent to help me out. Here is an account of an angel that oame down from heaven, who was so large that he placed one foot on the sea, and the other on the earth, and lifted np his hands to heaven. Now my knowledge of mathematics, con tinued Dean, has enabled me to calculate exactly the size and. form of the angel ; but It am in great difficulty, for I wish to ascertain haw - mucheloth it will take to make him a pair of reeches, and as that is exactly in your line of business, I have no doubt the Lord has sent you to show me. This sudden exposition came like an electric shook to the poor tailor he rushed from the house; ran to his shop, and, a sud den revulsion of thoughkand feeling came over him. Making ,breeches was exactly in his line of business. He returned to his occupation thoroughly cured of his prophetical revelations by the wit of the Dean. POLlTENESS ' —Politeness is a• redeem ing part,'in a person's - character. It is a moat beautiful illustration of the refining power which a higher development of hu manity always exerts upon our race.. By politeness is meant that behavior of man towards man that he would ask for himself. It is but a part of • the, mode of carrying out the great Christian precept which lies at the base of order and hammy among men.-- , Do unto others as you would that others should do, unto you.' Do what we may in life, the wheels off ; iobiety lean never move smoothly and well,: where the spirit of .politeness does notactuate the thoughts and deeds of Dian in his inter course with man. _ - . A woman down East has odmmen cad. a suit of divordo against her littsbaud, bedinse he would not allow, her to apply her tongue to the stopper of the molasses jug every 'time .. she used it, a privilege every Yankee woman oonei re sadred. 11HE JLOABNCAATNG IV Z -lIAMPBFLESL lEEMGAZNCER • No. 8 NORTE DUKE, STREET, LANCASTER, PA. ' The Jobbing 'Departrisent is thoroughly feniished with newand elegant type of (piety' dwurriptioni , and is under the chargeOf.a prsetleal and . experienced Job Printer.— The Proprieters are prepared to PRINT OkfltOKS, • . NOTE ,:LEGAL BLANKS, , ABMS . AND CIRCULARS, BELL MEANS AND HANDBILLS,' - • ~ . s cr :PIiOGRAMAIRiI AND pokizarea, PApßal EcK)KSAND PAMPHLETS, - BAIL TICKETS AND VivtriTior, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING, With neatness, acqureentipi dispatch, on the most reasons-. terms;nnd ins manner not excelled by any establiAlh, menttailwaltf• ' ' Sr Orders from a 4ieteaoe, by mail or iltbarwa!"- promptly attended to Address • • • azo. sialwalsos4;4oN, •.t3 ' • - JO. 8 Zioltklhas 88nogt, /408:88894-7* 101r0131010 AND CATTLE POWDZIne TAITERYLAvs HORSE ROWDY, HEAVE POWDER,_ROUE thummureir.. BIILYH %masa TARTAB, COPPERAS, M., Poe sale at THOMAS ILIMASIDDEI fob 0 Drug & Chemical Store, West King street, LsatPu, tf 4 INFAWYTSr DRESS PRESEESE/EIRB PATENT. This newlydisrovered invention Present's the:.lolothea from being Boiled, renders Nursing lab_ AVM Won. venienea, and is a great comfort to Mother* dad 'Nunes. Ts be had at ALL LADIES' SPORES, and sent free by post, direst from the inventor, Mss. ARBEIMILD, No. 512 Twelfth street, Washington, D. 0., by remitting - the amount. PRICE, ONE DOLLAR NIAOR.:, LAD YA T 8 . NPL rap:, Sir• A liberal 0011711314:11i1111d0 S P E C I A L N o - T ro K. Offer every possible Inducement to GASH BUYERS .0B DRY OQODS. Determined to reduce their stock, they. stye GOOD BARGAINS:` - BEAUTIFUL 'FANCY - BILKS, At 88,X60, 76, worth double the money. . .:;. GRENEDINS AND REREGE GOODS, About one-half their value. Every variety and ityk'ot SPRING AND SUMMER DREBB GOODS: SHAWLS; SILK AND CLOTH OGOAHBAND MANUA ; FRENCH Leap MANTIAS, Pointe, Shawls, Demons, Hyphen; Friona!' and - ChantUla Lace Goods In every style—without regard to.ooat. 04 and 8-4 Super Black - MERINO AND DELAINE for Shawls. BIIN lIMERELALRaLsABBTrE 07"1342C)141. AEI) .B4altS! WEAR, ex LUII THIN NAIRFIATITILIVi Pilols. A great sacrifice Ina lot of BEREGES AND LAWNS, Which are closing oat at 12M cants—one half Prim Great bargains in 13OLLABB and SLEEVES , from Auction. WENTZ BROS.,' East Zing and Gentru Anima, June 18 8t 23] wrIDW SPRING MILLINERY .r GOODS 1.11 The subscriber hu just returned from. Philadelphia and New York, with a Complete and .well selected :stoek - 'of SPRING AND SUMMER MILLINERY GOODS,,whiolt, be offers to the public In general, stwholesale and letall;'for the lowest cuts prices. - My stock, oonitiets, in MEM. 4+ll colors, Crapes, Lawns, Sarah* Mode, Tarlton; Criown Lining, Capenetl, Jelnblond, Quillings,Frenob and Anne can Flowers, Silklace, Edging, Strawgimp, Rib - bone of the newest style, Wire, lionnet4Frstrieg,' .Bennet -Blocks, Straw Bonnets, Hats and Shaken. of all colors, and the' newest style and Shape; Bo& net materials, and Trimming! of all. kinds, Jene/ty, Notions, Dry Goods, and a great many articles too Ulmer ens to m.nticia , Alio, 'TRIMMED AND !MDT MADE BONNETS all the time on hand of the very latest fashion, which he offers cheaper than the cheapest. Tho subscriber is thankful for put favors, and hopes a continuance of all his old customers and plenty more new 01:1(19. L. BAUM, cIRCIII. A.R. A - NEW DEMOORATIO MORNING PAPER "THE TINTON:" With a view to meet a universally admltted..want, the undersigned will Issue on Itionday, the Ist of July next, a Morning Penny Paper, to be. called " THE The great mission of the Democratic Party, which hoe ever stood es the bulwark of the Union and the Champion of the Constitution, renders its entire unity and bold atti tude in this hour of National peril's matter of vial con cern. The pending struggle 'isnot lees for the maintenance of a United Country than for the Perpetuation of Debts. cretin Principles, as expounded by Jefferson and Jackson. The most momentous results bang upon the issue. Mere party questions are lbr the time by common consent, ad journed. The past is dead, save in its lessons of experience. The Democratic hosts have not shrunk' Crean - their full share in the responsibilities and dangers of the emergency. They have rallied with one accord around the standard of our common country. But the occasion impoeis other duties. The Government will demand and receive the willing support of every patriot, In its efforts to vindicate the National honor and reaesert the N. oral authority; but the Preservation of Constitutions lb .rty rests more with the people than with Congress an. sem ta. Vigilance and Unity are therefore specially regale • in the present Juncture. It is the purpose of the Proprietors to ke . UNION," in every respect a first-class Journa . Democrany of the whole State feel the need of a bcdd. an . vigorous •dletropolitan daily; and no effort will be 'spared to render "THE UNION " both popular and and effloient, as a newspaper, and as a fearless exponent of the grail principles for which the Democratic party have ever con tended, and which are now so unhappily imperilled. The Proprietors hive perfeeted such arrangements 'as will place the enterprise, from the beginning, upon a sub. stantial business basis, with abundant means to niake a Newspaper second in interest and ability to no other in the city; and while the paper will be fearlessly Democratic, it will sedulously avoid all faction, as the deadileet bane . to party efficiency. We look to theDEMOOORATICI MASSES for support, and shall labor to Mike "TDB UNION" inevery way worthy their confidence and liberal patronage, as a fresh, readable and fearless Journal. TERMS:—Per Anntim, Three DoDare, or served by Car riers SIX CENTS PER WEEK. ETZIGL T & M'EVOY, STILL CON.. P tinue the MERCHANT TAILORING BUSINESS In the THE GRANITE BUILDING, N 0.6%, North Queen St. Our stock consists of the choir.. est FRENCH CLOTHS, such as Bahama, San:Conies and Nellssons finest Clothe of various colors; the °helmet French Cassimeres; Black Doeskin Oastrimares; FaauY Cassimeree, the best selection; Restingsotall deacripitkins, and a large assortment of GENTLERENI3 FURNISHING GOODS. - We respectfully ask a continuance of the patronage so liberally bestowed upon oar preilecessor, and trust. .by strict attention to business to receive it. One of the firm ham had considerable experience hi. one the largest and moat fashionable Merchant -Tailming: Ea tabllshmenta in Philadelphia, and flatters himself .tbathe will be able to render satisfaction to the patron. 'orthe firm. PETZELT t .1110EVOT. spl 7 tf DRESSLER'S - HAIR JEWELRY " sroma, No. 206 NORTH 82u Sums ABOTi RAW, PIIILADELPHLi. On hand and for sale, a choice essortmelat of superior patterns, and will plait to order BRACELETS, EAR RINGS, . FINGER RINGS. BREAST PINS, CROSSES, ' • NECKLACES, • GUARD AND . • _ VEST CHAINS. air Orders enclosing the hair to be plaited may,baSent by mail, Give a drawing as near as you eau oripaperoad. enclose such amount as you may choose to pay. , Costs es follows: Ear Binge sla to sll—Breast Pine IR , to" $7,-Fingur Bangs 76 tents to s3.6o—Yest Chainos6 to Necklaaea $2 to $lO. • .16/1- Hair put into Medallons, Boa BreastePits, OLD GOLD AND SILVER BOUGHT. AT ,FAIR BATES. ;• , apr la : • ; ly-14 TAMES H. B A It at El itrf ! fal FANCY AND WINDSOR. OLIAID No. 69% East' King street; Zancasteir; Takes pleasure in: inviting the public {suit at tilarifero• RITITILVtVgirT BEAUTIFUL NE. ASSORTMENT OP .3.OBDERB received end promptly attended to at the shortest notice: None but the Met worknerein ate employed In this establishment, consequentit.Chair. purel= r at n this house are folly equal to any articlesold In the Cities: Call and examine [or Toorialves.,. [ant 16,15111 LIRE OR DRATR..Th - e• take plantar° in announcing that they ata-ncar, pared to mail (free) to those tehO wish it; a copy cit. in lizt. portant little work, by, the late- Dr., Zrataptotg entitled " THE INVALID'S MEDICAL .00Nli'IDAliT pni) hod for the benefit, and as a waraing.to young - 2AR ,:ahl per sons who safferfrom Nervous Debility, Premateze, Deasy, Ac., sapplying the means-Self cure :' Thaieider' Is irresistibly led to compare , a useful ille-itith an Ignoble . . . death. Reader, Imo not a momett, but send yuni at addro ars as for a copy of this little viork i ; dd the A .70 k liN.B; °EIDEN a O 0.: &4 14 '64 and . 661oblit?.t v New apr 30 3m 16] ICORPOR A. TED, 8 ; 1 .11 .7 1 HARTFORD FIRE ROMANCE' DOMP.A NZ OF HARTFORD, CONN. CAPITAL AND ASSETS $930 709.90 HIINTIEGYFON, inataime 0. ALLYN, Secretary. . . • • Policies tamed and . renewed= - lasses equitably' adj ed and paid immediately uPPik mithiractcrYPrAilltr4r, York funds, by the undersigned, the DULY 0 AGENT. . ..,JAMES RhAON,I cot 23 ly 41J Agent for Lancaster On. /1.7 T srprioiq smiLiTittir Boossmort THE MILLION: • • HARDEE'S ItIFLE AND INFANTRY . TAUFLOS. SILHAMI MANUAL. • •' BAXTBB?S VOLUNTBMIS MANUAL7ilieslidt,m4 fifer. 'il ,1 t Il 1 life. THE VOLUN'ENER'S TEXT BOOK contain ng m oil' . able haformatlonlor 0111cere,-9olonteors, andAUNAN In ' the Cattip; Meld, or on the bfarch. • BEADLE'S DIME SQUADDRILL BOOK. ; • All' BEADLE'S SONGS YOU THE WAR. " STAEN - AND STRIPES SONGSTER. AU the above, and - avartety'of Linton PSTIIIT, Rovelopee, A 0.,, !to.; for sale at . M . wing Ase r wa , Jane 4tf El] Corner N. Queen a nd Orange stmts. ,--- es.LOAKS AND BIANTD,LAS. lIJJ Every novelty of the eeasori. .The the b e et work, and prices lower ttuutvorew4 --Mak No. 23 South 9th frivet; • , CILQA,E. B,TORE. ' „ No. 10. South 'UV, W•vsi, - Ina2arlaphkee.f:ll: Cloth Cloaks, in endlon variety; And,,Msn. tines in every quellt3s style and cost, at prioeslitat us to defy competitiou.• ' -:;,r • ;17A11.11 L OrLAA.IMI/Ce3rg If yon want style and guallealetsee the= Store, N. B. Corner 11 an‘wanant ItELENDID - MANTLE& . Th e largest and Went reahlonablettook 4 N. 41144 N. .ineilitigLitti and Walnut ilts., y • • - t.. 9 I &Do OkQARIn ST6lAlied_l_OlailCll l t litigant Raw. &we. Wwd4069 , 9,000d5. No. 29 Routh .9thStreet,bfpw- UMW; pay ••. pidoddraa., , * 912 A 'IL Ja—bailtor,o • -op, Wipe F_AOREB;Errotra, Nor RIALAIIOI WelSatag-AtesAA*4l: , - - . aisnitroa '.irit a NO. 2W; WENTZ "(nog No. SI North Queen street, Lancaster, Pa. , Eltu JO. SEVEIINS & 00., . No. 130 South Third St., Philadelphia, Pit, at 23
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