VOL. LXTTT.
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER.
SVERT TUESDAY, AT NO. 8 NORTH DUES STRUT,
3Y GEO. SANDERSON.
TERMS
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ages are piid, udL'B* at the option of the Editor.
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dollar, and twenty-five cents for each additional inser
tion. Those of greater length in proportion.
Job Printing —Such as Hand Bills, Postera, Pamphlets,
Blanks, Labels, Ac., Ac., executed with accuracy and on
the shortest notice.
THE COUNTRY PRINTER.
BY PHILIP FRENAU. CIRCA, 1798.
Beside a stream that never yet ran dry,
There stands a town, not high advaoc’d in fame
Tho* few its buildings raised to please the eye,
Still this proud title it may fairly claim;
A tavern (its first requisite) is there,
A mill, a blacksmith’s shop, a place of prayer.
Nay, more—a little market-house is seen,
And iron hooks where beef was never hung.
Nor. pork, nor bacon, poultry fat or lean,
Pig’s head, or sausage liuk, or bullock’s tongue
Look when you will, you see the vacant bench,
No butcher seated there, no country wench.
Great aims were his who first contriv’d this town;
A market be would have—but, humbled now.
SigbiDg, we see its fabric mould’ring down,
a hat only serves, at night, to pen the cow;
And hence, by way of jest, it may be said
That beef is there, tho’ never beef that’s dead.
Abreast the inn—a treo before the door,
A Printing Office lifts its bumble head.
Where busy Type old journals doth explore
For news that is thru’ all the village read,
Who year from year (so cruel is his lot)
Is author, pressman, devil— arid what not.
Fame says, he is an odd and curious wight,
Fond to distraction of his native place;
In sense not very dull nor very bright,
Yet shows some marks of burner in his face
One who can pon an anecdote complete,
Or plague tho parson with the mackled sheet.
Three times a week, by nimble geldings drawn,
A stage arrives; but scarcely deigns to stop,
Unless the driver, fur in liquor gone,
Has made suino business for the blacksmith’s shop •
Then comes this printer’s harvest-time of news, ’
Welcome alike from Christians, Turks, or Jews!
Each passenger he eyes with curious glance,
Aud, if his phiz bo mark’d of courteous kind
To conversation, straight, ho makes advance, ’
Hoping, from thence, some paragraph to find,
Some odd adventure, something new and rare
To set the town a-gapo, and make it stare. ’
All is not truth (Tis said) that travelers tell—
So much the better for this man of news ;
For hence the country round, who know him well,
Will, if he print sumo lies, his lies excuse;
Earthquakes and battles, shipwrecks, myriads slain,
if false or true, alike to him arc gain.
But if this motley tribe say nothing new,
Then many a lazy, longing laugh is cast,
To watch the weary p-.stboy traveling through,
On horse’s rump his budget buckled fast,
With letters, safe in leathern prison pent,
And wot, from press, full many a packet sent.
Not Argus, with his fifty pair of eyes,
Look'd sharper lor his prey than honest Tyfe
Explores each packet, of uliuriug size.
Prepar’d to seize them with a uimble gripe,
l)id not tho postboy watch his goods, and swear
That village Type shall only have his share.
Ask you what matter fills his various page? *
A mere farrago ’tis of miugled things;
Wbate’er is done ou madam Terra’s stugo,
He to the knowledge of his townsmen brings ;
Ouc while, he tells of monarchs run away ;
And now, of witches drown’d in Buzzard's bay
Some miracles ho makes, and some ho steals
Half nat uru’s works are giants in his eyes ;
Much, very much, m woudermont he deals,—
New Hampshire apples gjown to pumpkin size,
Pumpkius almost us large as country inns,
Aud ladies, bearing eacn, —three lovely twins.
He, births aud deaths, with cold indifference views*
A paragraph from him is all they claim ;
And hero the rural ’Squire, amongst the news
Sees the fair record of sumo lordling’s fame •
All that was good minutely brought to ’
All that was ill, —couoeoJ’d from vulgar sight
THE OFFICE,
Source of the wisdom of Lho country round,
Again 1 turn to that poor lonely shed,
Where many nn author all his fame has fonnd,
And wretched proofs by candle-light are read,
Inverted letters left Lhe page to grace.
Colons deraug-d, and commas out of place.
Beneath this rooi'the muses choose their homo, —
Sad was their choice, less bookish Indies say,
Since from ihe blessed hour they deigned to come,
One siugle cobweb was not brush’d away ;
Faio early bad pronuunc’d this building’s doom,
Ne'er to be vex'd with boonder, brush, or broom.
Here, full in view, the ink-bespangled press --
Gives to the world its children with a groan ;
Some born to live it in mlh—a day—some less;
Some, why they live at all, not clearly known.
All that ure born must die ! Type well knows that
The almanack’s bis longest living brat.
Here lies the types in curious order rang’d,
Beady, alike t’ impriut your prose or verse ;
lteady to speak (their orJer ody chang'd)
Oreek-ludian lingo, Dutch, or Highland Erse ;
These types have printed Erskine’s Gospel Treat ,
Tom Durl'ey’a songs, and Bunyan’s works, complete.
But faded are their charms, their beauty fled !
No more their work your nicer eyes admire;
Hence, from this press no courtly stuff is read,
But almanucks and ballads for the ’Squire,
Dull paragraphs, in homely language dress’d,
The pedlar’s bill, and sermons by request.
Here, doom’d the fortune of the press to try,
From year to year poor Type his trade pursues,
"With anxious care and circumspective eye,
He dresses out his little sheet of news ;
Now laughing at the world, now looking grave,
At once the uiuse's midwife—and her slave.
In by-past years, perplex’d with vast designs,
In cities fair he strove to gain a seat;
But, wandering to a wood of many pines,
In solitude he found his best retreat,
“When, sick of towns, and, sorrowful at heart,
He to those deserts brought his fav'rile art.
IV.
Thou who art plac’d in some more favor’d spot,
"Where spires ascend, and ships lrum ev ry clime
Discharge their freights—despise not thou the lot
Of humble 'lyra, who here ha’s pass’d his prime :
At case and press has labor’d many a day,
But now, in years, is verging to decay.
He, in his time, the patriot of his town,
With press and pen attack’d the royal side ;
Did what he could to pull their Lion dowD,
Clipp’d at his beard, aud twitch’d his sacred hide,
Mimtck’d his roarings, trod upon his toes,
Pelted young whelps, and tweak’d the old one’s nose.
Bous’d by his page, at church or court-house read,
From depths ot woods the willing rustics ran,
Now by a priest, and now some deacon Jed
With clubs and spits to guard the rights of man;
Lads from the spade, the pickaxe, or the plough,
Marching afar, to fight Burgoyno or Howe.
Where are they now?—the village asks with grief.
What were their toils, their conquests, or their
gains ?
Perhaps they, near some state-house, be" relief
Perhaps they sleep on Saratoga’s plains; ’
Doom’d not to live, tbeir country to reproach
For seven years’ pay transferred to mammon’s coach.
Ye guardians of your country and her laws!
Since to the pen and press so much we owe,
Still bid them favor freedom's sacred cause.
From this pure source, let streams unsullied flow ;
Hence, a new order grows on reason’s plan,
And turns the fierce barbarians into— man.
Child-of the earth, of rude materials fram’d,
Man, always found a tyrant or a slave,
Fond to bo honor’d, valued, rich, or fam’d,
Boves o er the earth, and subjugates the wav© :
Despots and kings this restless race may shnre, ’
But knowledge only inukcs them worth your care!
BSP" The Boston Post says that many
years ago, the Speaker of the Vermont
Legislature, an elgant man and given to
gallantry, facetiously opposed a woman’s
rights bill. The ‘ strong-minded lady’ who
was engineering the measure, folded up a
flanet petticoat in a paper and sent it to
the Speaker by the page, proposing to en
joy his discomfiiure from her seat in the
gallery. When the garment was unfolded
on the desk there was a sensation. Raising
the garment aloft in his right hand, and
smiling complacently, the Speaker spoke:
‘Gentlemen, I have received many flatter
ing attentions from the fair sex, but never
before bo pleasing a compliment as this ' It 1
19 indeed a beautiful gift. And,what enhan
oe? the delicacy of the donation, the name
of the fair donor is concealed.; Ah—the
darling!— she knewithat I would recognize
the pt^icoat !’ ... :: v, - : ;v‘
THE GAME OF FORFEITS.
BY MBS. CAROLINE FAIRFIELD CORBIN.
‘Superfine, and the last?’
1 1 doom the owner, upon her honor and
conscience, to say nothing that she does
not mean for the space of three. weeks
next following this evening; and as a
pledge for the fulfilment of her penalty, 1
will retain the pawn myself.’
With a quick and sudden movement the
speaker rose and gracefully seized the hand
which held a small emerald ring snpended
over his head, and, in a way that was im
perative without being rude, possessed
himself of tho bauble and placed it de
liberately upon his little finger.
‘ Paul, you are not fair !’ exclaimed the
young girl, hastily, and for an instant her
swelling lip and turbulent eye promised
resistance.
Paul Ashley was not to be braved. He
had been thoroughly in earnest in his de
termination to keep the ring,so much so that
he could afford to jest about it.
1 Indeed, Fanny,’ he said, ‘ I’ve seen
this ring upon half a dozen fingers within
a month. There’s virtue in the seventh
wearing, you know.’
Fanny was as spirited as she was pretty.
Seeing that resistance was useless, she
replied, with a light laugh :
1 Very well; you can keep the ring if
you like—it is a matter of small moment
to me.’
She cheoked herself at the close of the
speech, however, as if reoollecting her
sentence, and added, with a glowing flush
of consciousness—
‘ I will not give yon even the semblance
of a right to it by saying what I do not
mean. If I liked you, I should not care
about your wearing the ring; but as it is— ’
Fanny didn’t complete the sentence.
Her voice trembled with vexation, a tear
came in her eye, and she abruptly left the
circle.
‘ Paul Ashley is a brute!’ whispered
more than one young man. ‘ He’s always
teasing Fanny Archer, and setting up his
authority over her, as if he were her
guardian or her grandfather. He deserves
a booting.’
But Paul, heedless of these scathing
criticisms, was busily engaged making
himself agreeable to the daughter of his
hostess ; and the languid grace of his ges
tures, and the flash of his dark eye were
just as irresistible as ever. I think Fanny
Archer was the only girl of her set who
bad not acknowledged the power of Paul’s
fascinations. Not that he was handsomer
than other men, or, in faot, more talented,
though he passed, especially among womeD,
for a singularly gifted person. 'But he
possessed a strong will, unbounded am
bition, and precisely that temperament
which made it impossible for him not to
command, by bis very presence, all weaker
minds amoDg whom he moved. And as
these wero usually the multitude, he was
of course the acknowledged king of his
set. —a sovereign feared, though not be
loved.
Fanny Archer was, as I have said, an
exception to the general rule. Her
sprightly grace and piqumey, and her
delicate and spiritual beauty attracted
Paul, however ; and her open insubordi
nation to his rule only added zest to his
fancy. Upon this evening, he was de
termined to make an effective coup. For
a time he fancied that he had done so;
but scarcely half an hour had elapsed be
fore Fanny re-appeared before him, gay
and unruffled as ever, and exclaimed :
‘ Tit for tat, sir ! Here is something
which you would give your eyes to possess,
and which you must redeem from me with
a promise.’
She held up before him a small minatnre
upon ivory, set in an oval locket, and the
whole enclosed in a crimson velvet case.
Paul Ashley grew pale as death, and drew
a quick, hard breath. Sweeping a pene
trating glance about him, he saw that a
dozen were watohing them ; but it cost
him an effort to answer—
‘Pm not so certain about that. Bat
what are your terms ? lam willing to be
fair with you.’
‘ Promise to do whatever I bid you for
the Dext three weeks.’
‘ What! submit myself to such a mad
cap as you V
‘ Even so.’
‘ It is dangerous.’
‘Are you a coward V
You might require of me impossibili-
1 In which case you would be reasonably
absolved.’
‘ 1 never saw a woman whom I thought
incapable of abusing such power.
‘ That is not to the point.’
She held up his precious crimson ease
once more. Paul’s eye flashed and his
fingers tightened as if to grasp it ; but
there was an air of command in her man
ner uow which daunted him.
‘Very well; lam a fool—but I promiso
The promise had scarcely escaped Paul’s
lips before he repented it. What, if she
should ask him for the history of that pic
ture ? What if—he could think of a
thousand unendurable contingencies. Paul
and Fanny each went home that night with
a new sensation. Fanny was at heart
truthful to a fault ; but her reputation for
wit, and the attention which she was wont
to attract in society, had fostered a habit
of saying at random a thousand things
which never came from her heart. Paul’s
energetic though half playful rebuke of
the fault had at least set her thinking
about it, and she determined—three weeks
was not an eternity—scrupulously to fulfil
her obligation. She had a vague feeling
that it would be very stupid always to be
sincere; but she would try it at any rate.
As for Paul he was in more serious
trouble. It was not so much that he feared
the arbitrary exercise of Fanny’s power,
though, in truth, he was not at all certain
but the little witch had planned some
severe revenge for his audacity, which
might humble him before her a good deal
more than he oared to be humbled ; but to
feel himself in the slightest degree in the
power of any one, and particularly of a
woman, was a sensation by no means
pleasurable. Besides, had he not meant
to read Fanny a lesson, and had she not
turned the tables upon him ? And what
man, with the heart of a man in his bosom,
oould ever bear to bo outdone by a woman ?
Fanny had been seoretly surprised at
the comparative readiness with which Paul
had aeeeded to her demand. Of the his
tory of the looket she knew nothing, except
that, as she had been'vehemently wishing,
in the presence of one of her friends, for
some revenge upon PM, Lie had taken it
«THAT COUNTRY IS THK HOST PROSPEROUS WHIRR LABOR COMMANDS THN GREATEST REWARD.”—BUCHANAN.
LANCASTER CITY. PA., TUESDAY MORNING, MARCH 18, 1862.
from his pocket, and had said, ‘ Here is
something»JMiss Fanny, which I doubt not
will answer yonr purpose. I fonnd it some
time since, and fancy, from some circum
stances with which I am acqnainted, that
it may have been lost by Mr. Ashley. Try
him with it.’
As on the morning after the party, Fan
ny sat in her own room, with the precious
looket open before her, gazing upon the
soft, saint-like features therein enclosed,
she felt a strange desire to know the his
tory of that singularly lovely beiDg. The
artist had well performed his labor, and
the pictured face was one of those which,
looking up from the incensate ivory, thrills
one with a sense of life—of being. Fan
ny felt the influence of the soul whioh
had formed those sweet, truthful eyes,
which had made the curves of the perfect
mouth so soft and flexible; and she had a
dim consciousness, whioh, if it had been
explicitly translated, would have read
something after this fashion : ‘ If that girl
is alive, I want to know her. We might
be as dear as sisters to each other. She
is so truthful, so yielding—l stronger, but
more passionate, more wayward.’ But
Fanny was little given to moralizing. So,
after a moment’s pensiveness, she said to
herself—
‘ I wonder if this is Paul Ashley’s fan
cy ? Who knows but he may have been
in love some time ? I’ll find out. I’ll
tease him. How Ido dislike that man’s
conceit of himself! But for that—l’ll
confess to-day what I never did before,
even to myself— I might find him endura
ble. Heigh-ho! how it will bore me al
ways to say what I mean to him! It is sneh
sport to fly in tho fac9 of all his whims
from mere contrariness.’
Two days afterwards she met Mr. Ash
ley. lam not sure but they both lcoked
embarrassed at the meeting, but Paul was
the first to regain his composure.
‘ Good morning, Miss Fanny,’ he ex
claimed. ‘ I can hardly say I’m happy to
see you, since one naturally doesn’t line
to encounter one’s tyrant. Still I trust
you are well, and find your oharaoter im
proving under penance.’
‘ Really,’ she replied, ‘ I should think
it were you who were doomed to truth tel
ling. 1 confess it would be delightful to
assure you that the meeting was equally a
bore to me ; but truth oompels me to say
otherwise. I’m really almost—for the
first time in my life—glad to see you.—-
I’ve been longing for an opportunity of
testing ny power over you.’
Paul smiled faintly. The assumption
would have been pretty enough if there
had been no trace of reality about it. As
it was, it irked him.
‘ I am yours to command,’ he replied,
with a mock, deferential bow. ‘ But first
let me remind you that, as I understand
the spirit of your obligation, your are not
at liberty to indulge your whimsicality at
my expense. Your request must be a sin
cere one.’
‘ Whimsicality is a part of my nature,’
she replied ; ‘ and I may be as sincere in
the indulgence of a whim as anything
else.’
After that, Fanny did not like to ask
about the portrait, as she had intended.—
It would have seemed to betray too deep
an interest in Mr. Ashley's confidential
matters. Paul had penetration enough to
see that she was checkmated ; and sud
denly it occurred to him that her power
was, after, all, not so very arbitrary, since
it was bounded upon all sides by her pledge
of truthfulness and her own maidenly
sense of propriety.
‘ Really,’ he said, in a rallying tone,
‘ you do not sustain your part with the
spirit I anticipated, Miss Fanny. I shall
begin to thing you intend to make your
office a sinecure.’
‘By no means,’ she replied, quickly.—
‘ From this time forward 1 appoint you the
champion of the absent, the weak, the
evil-bespoken. Keep ever a spare lance,
sir knight, for the defence of these, my
retainers. Set your ingenuity at work to.
devise excuse for them, and use your elo
quence to maintain their cause. Remem
ber it is not the unfortunate, but the weak
and the erring, whom you are to uphold—
and that not with scornful tolerance, but
humble, earnest zeal.’
‘ I am shot with my own arrow,’ ex
claimed Paul, after a moment’s pause.—
‘ Really, Miss Fanny, you improve under
my tuition.
‘ You may be blinded by your own van
ity, sir ! Teachers often are.’
‘ You provoke me to ask if that is your
honest opinion, or simply put forth as a
suggestion V
‘ No. I have been heedless ; a little
self culture will doubtless do me good.’
‘ Do you see,’ broke out Fanny, at last,
in the old vein, ‘ how very stupid all this
is making us ? I wish we might go back
to the old way and talk ponsense, instead
of making father confessors of ourselves,
and weighing every worq in the balance.
A truce to philosophy, aqd welcome a lit
tle downright gossip. Have you heard
how shamefully Phil Mouhtjoy has behaved
in breaking his engagement with Ellen
\ ane ? Is it not strange that men can be
so devoid of honor and principle V
Paul hesitated a moment before reply
ing-
‘ Philip has been unfortunately educa
ted,! he said, at length. ‘He has never
had any stronger motive than the love of
money and his own ease instilled into his
mind. It is strange how much education
has to do in making or marring the beauty
of our lives.’
Fanny looked up with a pleased smile.
This leniency and generosity were so muoh
more genial than Paul’s usual arroganoe
and cynicism.
‘lt is true,’ she said. ‘ But I pity El
len. She is such a weak confiding creature,
it will have a bad effect upon her charac
ter, I’m afraid.’
‘ Possibly not. It may rouse some dor
mant qualities, and make a stronger and
better woman of her: I hope so at least.’
The last was said with a sigh, which
Fanny did not quite understand. After a
short pause, during whioh the thoughts of
both had been busy, Paul said—
‘ I am determined to be even with you.
Since you have put me to the test, though
I believe it was unconsciously, let me re
taliate. I am going to ask you a question,
to which, a week ago, I should not have
expected a truthful answer.’
‘ A very vile insinuation.’
‘ Not in the least. . You would have
evaded me, put me off with pretty jokes
and muoh bantering, and I should have
ceased the play of wit just as wise as I
commenced it. But now I have hope of a
better result.’
‘ Well, then ?’
‘ I will not ask you how a certain min
iature came into yonr possession ; yon
might not like to tell me. Bat lam very
desirous to know how much of its history
you are aware of.’
Fanny hesitated. It was a strong temp
tation. She replied at length—.
‘ Quite as much, I presume, as yon
would wish me to know.’
Paul bit his lip and looked very pale.
‘ Yonr answer is sufficiently indefinite.
I am to understand that yon do not wish
me to know anything about it ?’
Again Fanny hesitated. She wanted to
make him feel that he was in her power.
‘ For the present, yes,’ she replied.
‘ Yon may be aware that it is very pain
ful for me to be held in such suspense.’
‘ I should judge that it might be.’
‘ I thought we were getting friends,
Fanny.’
No reply.
‘ How did it seem to you ?’
‘ I had hardly thought about it.’
‘ I am sorry to think you intentionally
oruel.’
‘ I don’t think I am. You assumed the
right to be my judge, and award me sen
tence upon unexpected points. If I return
the compliment yon ought not to com
plain.’
‘ Yon are giving me the benefit of a new
sensation.’
They were parting. Fanny offered her
hand and said—
‘ I would like to bespeak a truce to all
ill feeling for the present. At the end of
the three weeks I promise to satisfy you ;
that is, if you succeed in redeeming the
picture.’
She smiled at the close of the sentence
in a friendly, playful way ; and replied—
‘ Ah! I see you are still bent on playing
tho tyrant!’
Society was excessively amnsed at the
metamorphoses in the characters of Paul
and Fanny. It was as good as a play, they
declared, to see Paul lowering his pride so
graoefully, and defending with such cbi
valrio zeal those whom a week ago he would
have spoken of with scorn and impatience.
Aside from the entertainment of the thing,
so many good qualities in his nature un
folded into bloom iu the warmth of suoh
genial feeling, that people began to love
him in spite of themselves. As for Fanny,
the young men scolded at first; but pre
sently they found that she had lost her
piquancy, and the faot that it was toned
down to the mellowness of truth added a
very engaging oharm to it ; and presently
it began to be discovered that, if Fanny
was less fascinating than formerly, she was
more loveable.
But how was it going with Paul individ
ually ? Paul was not a man of the world,
though he might have been ; yet there was
one chapter in the book of his life the
leaves of which lie kept carefully pinned
together. How much of it had passed
under Fanny’s revision ? Since that last
interview this question had perpetually per
plexed him. And, strange- enough, it
seemed to him that he cared less for the
faot that his cherished seoret might have
been ruthlessly dragged to light than for
that other possibility, that Fanny might
have been made acquainted with it. The
discovery led to a deeper self examination,
and with that came a strange revelation.
Fanny was given to flirting ; she did not
always speak the truth, at lest when she
jested; she fell, iu fact, several degrees
below his ideal standard of female perfec
tion ; yet Paul loved her. And to be iu
the power of the woman he loved ! Paul,
who had thought some time to cast his eye
upon a flower which he might crush, and
stooping very gracefully to lift the drooping
flower from its lovely stem and lay it in his
bosom ! It seemed very strange to Paul
that Fate should think of playiog him such
a shabby trick—he, Paul ! But there he
was.
There was but one thing to do. He
must get out of his false position as soon
as possible. He would scrupulously fulfil
his promise ; he was lawyer enough to be
able to do it with credit, if not with eclat;
he would find out from Fanny how much
she knew about—he winced as he thought
of that, and then he would tell Fanny that
he loved her. Ah ! but if Fanny knew all
about that picture, what would she say to
his love ? There were ten days yet of
the time remaining. For once he played
the coward’s part, and resolved to meet
her as seldom as possible. But this did
not suit that young lady. She did not
choose that her penance should prove only
nominal, and she took care to see her vic
tim as often as she could. She treated
him with candor and courtesy. Her sweet,
womanly dignity and trustfulness made her
more than ever charming to Paul.
At last the eventful day arrived.—
Fanny dressed herself simply but taste
fully that evening, wondering if Paul would
come. She thought he would. Eight
o clock came, and no Paul *, and Fanny
began to feel discouraged. The little
French clock on the mantel had struck the
quarter, and the half; and still no Paul.
Fanny yawned, rose, and went to the
mirror ; retouched her hair, broke a flower
from a boquet and fastened it in her bosom,
and then laughed and called herself a silly
girl to care for her looks when she was just
going to bed. But the bell rang.—
Fanny’s heart beat audibly ; the door was
opened, and Paul entered.
‘ Good evening,’ he said. . ‘ I am late ;
but 1 dared not risk myself in your pres
ence during the last hour of your tyranny.
I was afraid you would not be able to resist
the temptation of humbling me. The time
is out, I think.’
‘ You are mistaken,’ she replied.—
‘ There is yet an hour—it was later than
this when the forfeit was given. Moreover,
your cowardice tempts me. What if I
insist still upon my prerogative V
Paul hesitated a moment. I do not
know what good spirit prompted him, but,
by a sudden inspiration, probably, he said
the only thing which could have helped
him.
‘ I was a coward ! lam such no longer.
I trust you fully, Fanny. Administer
whatever test you please.’
Fanny had not got over her curiosity
about the picture. She longed to ask for
its history ; but how could she touoh upon
a subject which might, for all she knew,
be a painful one, which, indeed, she had
reason to think was a painful one, when he
was so free, and trusted her so implicitly,
for his .tone had been perfectly sincere ?
At last, she replied—
‘ There is something that 1 want to know
very muoh ; but I will not ask it till after
ten o’clpok. Then we will consider the
timie out, and eaoh accept our liberty again.
After that, if you choose to answer my
question, I shall oonsider it a very great
favor.’
‘And yon do not forget that I have some
thing to ask of you at that time ?’
‘ No,’ she replied, gravely. ‘ But there
is one thing I want you to tell me truth
fully now, while 1 can demand it. What
made you think of exacting sneh a forfeit
from me ?’
Somehow Paul had not intend it; he had
a great deal of ground to clear up before
he told Fanny the state of his affections ;
but a strange impnlse woke up in his heart
and took possession of his tongue, and he
said with emphasis—
‘Because I loved you, Fanny. Yonr
character, with that one exception, seemed
to me the perfection of womanliness and
beauty ; but I could not bear to hear your
lips so frequently profaned with trifling
and insincere words. I meant, besides, to
test yonr firmness and resolve. Was the
offence unpardonable ?’
Fanny’s face flushed very red, and she
did not answer. She was thinking of that
picture. So was Paul; wondering if Fanny,
in heart, despised him, and would tell him
so preoisely when she got breath. In the
silence the clock struck ten. Fanny looked
up and smiled.
‘ Tell me, Paul,’ she said, ‘ who is the
original of that picture ? Is she living ?
What are yonr relations to her? and can
I ever know her, and call her sister ? I am
sure I should love her !’
Paul drew a long breath.
‘ Then you know nothing of her ?’ he
said.
‘ Nothing whatever.’
He was tempted to vow that she never
shonld. But the experience of the past
few weeks had done Paul good. He, too,
had needed self-examination, self-disci
pline, and, somewhat to his surpise, had
found that Fanny was oapable of reading
him a lesson. There was a 1 moment of
silenoe, in which Paul’s face was very pale,
and his eyes were shaded with his hand.
At length he said—
‘ You shall know all, Fanny, and then
you shall tell me if you can love me. The
original of that picture was my cousin.
She was an orphan and my father’s ward.
You ean see that she was beautiful. Her
character was not less engaging than her
face. We were betrothed, and the union
was considered a very desirable one for
me ; for she was wealthy. I was jealous
and exacting; she was the most unsuspi
cious aud trusting creature in the world.
A piece of girlish levity on her part gave
me a momentary pang, and I cruelly broke
the engagement. Affairs became complica
ted, and I would not humiliate myself by
seeking or even accepting reconciliation,
though I plainly saw myself in the wrong.
Indeed, had I not been, forgiveness would
have been easy. In a few months, she
sickened and died. I had murdered her.
After her death it was found that she had
left me by will all her property. You see,
Fanny, what a perfect man I am; how
competent to judge of the faults aud failing
of others, and pass sentence upon them.
Gan you accept such a one as a lover, and
by-and-by, as something dearer ?’
I think Fanny had never loved Paul
until that moment. What his pride had
failed to do his humility accomplished.
Her heart was touched, and she laid her
hand in his and said, tearfully—
‘ I will try.’
It was not the response Paul had'once
dreamed of receiving in answer to such a
question, but it satisfied him then.
‘ And the picture V she added.
‘ You shall keep it, dear. It was care
lessly lost, and I deserve to forfeit it. To
morrow night, 1 shall place one upon yours, 1
The game of forfeits had a life-long
result. Paul grew loveable, and Fanny
grew truthful; and the ring and the picture
are among the choicest of their family
treasure.
Skating Courting.—Well, sir, Mary
caught the skating fever, whioh is raging
so fearfully. I heard her express a wish
for a pair of skates, and the next day she
had the best pair that could be bought in
the city and nobody knows who sent them
to her. We went upon the ice, and then
Mary sat quietly down, ordered me on my
knees, and quietly placed that foot, a foot,
in my lap, and bid me put on her skates.
If, sir, Venus had dropped from Heaven,
and told me to rub her down with rotten
stone and oil, it could not have astonished
me more than when that divine foot was
placed on my unworthy lap. I felt faint
—but buckled on the skates and stood np,
with Mary by my side ! No; well let me
tell you.
Mary and her victim in the first skating
lesson. Mary and I started—she on my
left arm—all square. First, Mary’s dear
little gaiter boots presented themselves to
my astonished vision, and before I had time
to wonder how they came up before me, I
felt them pressing their blessed eauty with
emphasis into the pit of my stomach. Next
scene—wavy halt, with $3O bonnet, came
pitching into my waistcoat with such vio
lence that I felt the buttons agaiDst my
spine. Next, Mary gazed at me from
between my jack boots, and anon her
blessed little nose was thrust into my shirt
bosom. AhJ my friends, all research and
study on the mysterious 3 übjeot of woman
has been comparatively vain till, in this
eventful year of 1862, the fashion has
opened new and various resources of in
formation. Da you remember your first
attempt at driving tandem 1 Do you re
member how that infernal perverse beast
that you selected for your leader, would
insist on turning short round and staring
you in the face as if to ask, ‘ what the
deuce you'd be at ?’ well, just you go and
try a woman on skates, that’s all- just try
it! Ah !. wpn’t you come to the conclusion
that women have sundry and divers ways
of accomplishing their object? Dear Mary!
I offered myself to her every time she
turned up or came round. lam hers.
Wakeful Houns.—There is something
beautiful as sublime in the hush of mid
night. The myriad quiet sleepers laying
down each their life burden, insensible
alike to joy or sorrow; helpless alike—
the strong man as the infant—and over all
the sleepless Bye, which since the world
began has not lost sight of one pillowed
•;head. Thoughts like these oomo to us in
our wakeful night hours, with an almost
painful intensity. Then eternity only
seems real, and ev.ery-day like a fable.
But morning comes, and the stir and hum
of life chase them .away, as the warm sun
dries up the de.wdrops, which like these
thoughts performed their reviving mission,
ere they departed. • •
Spending Money. —At time of lavish
national expenditnre like the present, it is
well to retrench in onr personal and family
expenses. W e have got to pay the fiddler,
and it is as well to save up the pennies.—
Willis tells us that at Washington.* thanks
to our patriotically prompt women, econo
my is now fearlessly fashionable.’ This
is very well, but we should now practice
economy from principle, rather than be
cause it is fashionable. Fashionable ecoco
my is often but disguised extravaganoe.
Being but a devioe of tailors and milliners
to cause the spreading of money, it is not
in the nature of fashion to be eoonomioal.
We distrust, therefore, all fashionable
economy, and prefer rather the domestic
article of good old-fashioned household
economy.
Few know how to praotioe a wise econo
my, whioh is as far removed from mean
ness as from extravaganoe. The seoret of
economy lies more in not spendiog of it.
By this we mean that it is not spending of
it. By this we mean that it is not the
wisest economy to be scrimping in our
purohase; but rather to go without things
we do not need. Whatever we do purohase,
let it be of the best—for the best is always
the cheapest. We know a man who prides
himself on his eoonomy, who always pur
chases the poorest goods, and thus is con
tinually purchasing; a poor article of olo
thing soon wearing out or becoming de
faced. His meanness therefore costs him
more than would a wise economy. la pur
chasing clothing for children, for instanoe,
it is best to buy a good article, one that
will wear well and hold its colors, thus be
ing capable of being often altered and made
over. A oheap artiole ean be worn oiit ’
but once before it becomes a worthless rag;
and the cost of continually making new
garments more than equals the prioe of a
good artiole, which lasts as long as a half
a dozen of oheap ones.
We repeat, therefore, that true econo
my lies in purchasing that whioh is best,
and in refraining frem purchasing all that
is not absolutely necessary. The test of a
man’s economy lies in his power to refrain
from purchasiog many things which he de
sires, and believes even necessary to his
comfort. la reality economy is self-denial,
and he best practices it who most often
controls his propensity to gratify his
wishes. Some economical people are always
spending money, but in driblets. They
cannot control their propensity to spend,
and their meanness prevents their pur
chasing aitiules which are really valuable.
Such three oent economisers are in reality
the greatest spendthrifts. They must have
everything there is going, bat of the
cheapest kind; they ‘ can’t afford’ a good
article. Thus their means are dribbled away
without their over having anything to show
for them—and then they wonder where
the money goes. He is the true economist
who denies himself the gratification of pur
chasing all the desirable things he sees,
and buys liberally of those things which
he must have.
John B. Weller and Unolc Abe.—
While in Washington we heard a good
story in regard to Uncle Abe and John B.
Weller, ‘ the Mexican killer.’
Weller was at Washington settling his
accounts as Minister to Mexico. After
their adjustment, he concluded to pay his
respects to Mr. Lincoln, with whom he had
served in Congress. He called at the
Presidential mansion, and was courteously
received.
‘ Mr. President,’ said Colonel Weller,
‘ I have oalled on you to say that I most
heartily endorse the conservative position
you have assumed, and will stand by you
so long as you prosecute the war for the
preservation of the Union and the Con
stitution.’
‘ Colonel Weller,’ said the President,
‘ I am heartily glad to hear you say this.’
‘ Yet, Mr. President,’ said Weller, ‘ I
desire an appointment to aid in this work.’
‘ What do you want, Colonel ?’ asked
Abraham.
1 1 desire to be appointed Commodore in
the JVavy,’ said Weller.
The President replied —‘ Colonel, I did
not think you had any experience as a
sailor.’
‘ I never had, Mr. President,’ said Wel
ler, « but, judging from, the Brigadier-
Generals you have appointed in Ohio, the
less experience a man has, the higher
position he attains.’
Linooln turned off with a hearty laugh,
and said—‘ I owe you one, Colonel.’—
Seneca (0.) Advertiser,
A Good Wife. —A good wife is Heav
en’s last best gift to man; an aDgel of
mercy : minister of graces innumerable;
his gem of jewels ; her voice, his sweetest
music; her smiles his brightest day ; her
kiss, the guardian of innocence ; the pale
of his safety, the balm of his health, the
balsam of his life ; her industry, his surest
wealth ; her economy, his safest steward ;
her lips, his faithful counselor; her bosom
the softest piHow of his cares ; and her
prayers, the ablest advocates of Heaven’s
blessing on his head. —Jeremy Taylor.
A Difficult Question Answered.—
Can any one tell why, when Eve was
made out of one of Adam’s ribs, a hired
girl was not made at the Bame time to
wait upon her? We can, easy! Because
Adam never came whining to Eve with a
hole in his stocking to be darned, a but
ton to be sewed on, or a glove to be mend
ed right away, quick now! Because he
never read the newspaper until the sun
got down behind the palm-tree, and then
stretched himself, yawning out, ain’t sup
per most ready my dear ?’ Not he. He
made the fire and hung over the tea-kettle
himself, we’ll venture, and p ( ulled the
radishes’ and did everything he ought to.
He milked the cows, and fed the chickens,
and looped after the pigs himself. He
never brought a half dozen friends home
to dinner when Eve had'not anything in
the larder, and ’sparagus season was over.
He never staid ont until eleven o’oloop at
a ward meeting, hurrahing, for the out
and-out candidate, and then scolding be
cause poor, dear Eve was sitting qp. and
crying ifaside the, gates. To be sure, he
acted rather oowardly about apple gather
ing time; but then that dosen’t depreoiate
his general helpfulness about the garden.
He never played billiards, nor drove fast
horses, nor choked Eve with oigar smoke.
He never dined at. his club, while solitary
Eve was rooking little Cain’s cradle at
home. In short, he didn’t think she was
oreated specially for the purpose of wait
ing on him and wasn’t under the impres
sion that.it disgraced a mad to lighten his
wife’s cares a little. That’s the reason
that Eve did not need a hired girl; and
we wish it was the reason that nonsT of her
fair descendants did.
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
JOB PRINTING RSTABLiSHMRNT
No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA
The Jobbing Department is thoroughly furnish od with
new and elegant type of every description,: and is under
the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer.*—
The Proprietors are prepared to
PRINT CHECKS,
NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS,
CARDS AND CIRCULARS,
BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS,
PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS,
PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS,
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING,
with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasona
ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by any establish
ment in the city.
Orders from a distance, by mall or otherwise,
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON A EON,
M Intelligencer Office,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa.
American life insurance and
TBUBT COMPANY,
CAPITAL AT 0 OK, $6OO , 000
Company’s Building, Walnut street, 8; A corner of fourth
PHILADELPHIA.
LIFE INSURANCE AT THE USUAL MUTUAL RATES,
or at Joint Stock Rates, at about 20 per cent, leas, or at
Total Abstinence Bates, the lowest in the world.
A. WHILLDIN, President.
J. C. Sims, Secretary.
H. 8. GARA, Esq., JSaat Ring street, Agent for Tj>iw>j«
ter connty [mar 22 ly 10
Dr. j. t. baker,
HOMOEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN,
Of Lancaster Cut,
maybe consulted professionally, at his Office, atHeory
Bear’s Hotel, in the Borough ot Straaborg, on Thursday of
each week, from 10 o'clock in the morning to three in the
afternoon.
An opportunity is thus afforded to residents of Strasbnrg
and vicinity to avail themselves of Homoeopathic treatment,
and females suffering from chronic diseases may enjoy the
advice of one who has made this class of diseases a
speciality. J. T. BAKER, M. D.,
Homoeopathic Physician,
oct 22 tf 41 j East King street, above Lime, Lancaster
\r A N 1 N 6 E N * SNYDER,
V DESIGNERS AND ENGRAVERS ON WOOD,
N. E. Corner sth and Chestnut Streets,
PHILADELPHIA.
Execute all kinds of WOOD ENGRAVING, with beauty,
correctness and despatch—Original Designs famished for
Vine Book Illustrations—Persons wishing Cats, by winding
a Photograph or Daguerreotype, can have views of
COLLEGES, CHURCHES,
COTTAGES, STORE FRONTS,
PORTRAITS, MACHINES,
STOVES, PATENTS, Ao.
Engraved as well as on personal application.
FANCY ENVELOPES, LABELS, BILL HEADINOS,
SHOW BILLS, VISITING, BUSINESS and other CARDS,
engraved in the highest style ot the Art, and at the lowest
prices. '
For Specimens of Fine Engraving, see the Illustrated
Works of J. B. LIPPINCOTT 4 Co., E. H. BUTLER & Co.,
Ac., &c. foot 28 ly 41
gOMETHING NEW!
HIGHLY IMPORTANT TO THE LADIES.
DOWNER’S PATENT HBUSIER AND SHIELD, FOR
HAND SIS WING.
Is pronounced by all who have used it “just the thing "
for those using the needle, as it completely protects the
huger, and makes a neat and uniform hem while the opera*
tor is sewing.
One-half the labor of sewlog is saved by using this
REMARKABLY SIMPLE AND NOVEL INVENTION.
No lady should be without it. It La also ‘‘Just the
thing” for girls to use learning to sew.
It** remarkable cheapness brings it within reach of the
million. Sample sent by mail on receipt of the price,
TWENTY-FIVE CENTS.
Descriptive Circulars furnished on application.
A LIBERAL DISCOUNT TO TEE TRADR
Enterprising Agents (wanted in every town ao'd eounty
throughout the United States and Canada,) will find most
profitable employment in selling this useful article, as it
meets with ready sales wherever offered—has no competi
tion—and profits are very large.
$l5O PER MONTII CAN BE REALIZED.
Address, A. H. DOWNER,
442 Broadway, New York,
Patentee and Bole Proprietor.
N. B.—General and exclusive Agencies will be granted
*m the most liberal terms. [dec 24 3m 60
I) R V 6001,8 ATO I.HPRIQI,.
WENIZ BROS.
Have in storo adarge stock of
DOMESTIC QOOD9,
MoblSds, Sheetings, Shirtings, Calicoes, Ac.,
Worthy the attention of all Housekeepers, and those about
commencing.
GOOD CALICOES, 10,115 and 10 cents.
Bleached and Unbleached Sbeetiugs and Shirtings, with a
large assortment of
HOUSEKEEPING GOODS,
Many of them purchased before the advance in prices.
Consequently selling at Old Prices.
JUST OPENED:
NEW LOT OP BALMORAL SKIRTS,
Beautiful Purples—Magenta—Green—Scarlet—Blue.
1 CASE RICH NEW STYLE DE LAINES,
Selling at the Old Price, 25 cents.
THE WHOLE STOCK OF
DRESS GOODS
SELLING OFF AT REDUCED PRICES,
To make room for Spring Stock.
WENTZ BROS.,
No. 5 East King street.
feb 18 tf 6]
INCORPORATED 1810!
HARTFORD FIRE INSURANCE COMPANY.
OF HARTFORD, CONN.
CAPITAL A.ND ASSETS $938,709.00.
H. HUNTINGTON, President.
P. C. Alltn, Secretary.
Policies issued and renewed; losses equitably adjusted
and paid immediately upon satisfactory proofs, t» New
York funds, by the undersigned, the DULY AUTHORIZED
AGENT. JAMES BLACK,
oct23 Iy4lJ Agent for Lancaster Co.
JJ OL I D A Y GIFTSI
SILVER WARE! SILVER WARE!!
PIE, CAKE AND BUTTER KNIVES.
SUGAR, CREAM AND OYSTER SPOONS.
SOUP AND OYBTRR LADLES.
BPOONS, FORKS, Ao., Ac.
Latest Styles and Best Workmanship.
SILVER-PLATED WARE ! SILVER-PLATED WARE ! I
BASKETS, CASTORS, PITCHERS, MUGS,
SPOONS, FORKS, Ac., Ao.,
Just peom the Factories.
WATCHES! WATCHES!! WATOHEBJI!
WARE ANTED TIME KEEPERS.
CHEAP! CHEAP I I CHEAP!!
CLOCKS! CLOCKS!! CLOCKS!!!
GILT, COLUMN AND PLAIN FRONTS.
JEWELRY! JEWELRY!! JEWELRY!!
LATEST STYLES AND BEST QUALITY.
RHOADS A GILLESPIE,
!!)< Will Em Sunt.
Between Cooper’s Hotol and J. Q. Getz’s Dry Goods Store:
dg ” 17 tf 48
D KESSLER’S
HAIR JEM LLRT STOSS,
No. 206 North Bth Street aboye
PHILADELPHIA.
On hand and for sale, a choice assortment ot superior
patterns, and will plait to order
BRACELETS,
EAILRINGS,
FINGER RINGS,
BREAST PINS,
CROSBES,
NECKLACES,
GUARD AND
. . , , VEST CHAINS.
Orders enclosing the hair to be plaited may be sent
by mail. Give a drawing as near as you can on paper, and
enclose snob amount as you may choose to pay.
Costa as follows : Ear Rings $2 to s6—Breast Pins $3 to
s7— FiDger Kings 75 cents to s3.so—Vest Chains *6 tolT—
Necklaces $2 to $lO. v *
Hair put into Sfedalions, Box Breast Pins. Rin<m Jkr-
OLD GOLD AND SILVER BOUGHT AT FAIR RATES*
°P r 16 ly 14 '
POWERS* HOTEL
(formerly earle’s,)
17 AND 19 PARK ROW,
Opposite the Ahtor House and Park, New York.
4®* Price of Board $1,50 per day.
This long established and . popular House has recently
bpen rebuilt and greatly enlarged by the addition of over
100 rooms, and now has accommodations for over 300 pep.
boos. It has also been thoroughly renovated and re>
furnished, aud is *
HEATED BY STEAM AND LIGHTED WITH GAS
THROUGHOUT. '
Thi* Hotel baa one of the best locations in the city U
easy of access from all the Steamboats and Railroads lead
ing to the city, and is convenient to all the city convey,
ances. It Huh now ail the requisites of a 3
FIKST-CLAB3 HOTEL,
ensuring the comfort of its inmates.
soHrited atrona£e ° f thB tra7oUiQg publlc *• respectfully
TERM*S : $1,50 per Day.
mar 4 8m 8]
TO FARMERS* GARDENERS AND
• TRUCK ERB.
_ A ‘^®J BBON,S DISINFECTED POUDRBTTE,
Efl^ eClal, L? l anafocto J redforCorn * Wheat, Tobacco/Peso,
2» a T B A.S ab i, a^k and e7ery kind ofCr °P and Tracking.
FRMJES: $16.00 aot $12,00 PEE Tos, oe 40 acres iro
30 OSKTB PEE BUSHJ*. ■ .
KASCPACTUfiXD AT
GRAY’,s ferry road.
BELOW THE ARSENAL. PHILADELPHIA,
ATO At
PEYSSON'S FARM,'WOODBURY ROAD,
GLOUCESTER, N. J.
DEA i. k r 8 *
FRENCH, RICHARDS A CO., North 4tti Street End York
Avenup. - ; . .„ -. .
i JOHN GRAIG, west end of Market Street Bridge.
OFFICE OF A. PEYSSONi Library Street, Goldsmith’s f J
Hall, No. 12. . . [mar 4 3xa 8
(( rrHK BLOCKADE BROKEN.’*
? -± BLATB!',BLATB'I[ -
The eubserlber baa made arrangement* to be supplied .
with a fall supply of the best quality of Roofing Slate,
from the Lancaster and YorklJounty Quarries, which he
will pat on, on the most favorable-terms.
Hebas engaged the'servfeSß of James Towson, who fa
known to he one of the- belt and most fcareful Jq t hi«
county. . ‘
WORH WARRANTED,
Order* respectfully solicited.. Baildfngimaterials alwaya -,
'on hand. • 1 ■ • • r v*. • :
. (Jail at JOHN RUSSEL'S. HARDWARE STORE, f
■ mat 42m 8] Nd.B East Kutu Bteut, LiauAQTR,' 1
iTH3aS' BODUfiGER.
Thl* wonderful article, jdst x patentad, is something ■ ; -
ntlrply new, and never before offered to agents, who. arc .
Tainted everywhere, 'Pnllt&rucnlansenfrjVeA
; Adtan-.. ,: .J SHAW * QLABK, ; „.
■ ‘ wdjUtoi.jtaiSii
’X ' '.lWv.l'.’.vl "
NO. 10.
H. L. POWERS,
Proprietor.