fc* sc-? r-.’.
Arr?->
VOL. i.xiti.
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER.
VTCBT I raSDAT, AS HO, 8 HOHTB DUXt BS&XXS,
BY OHO. BASDERSON.
TERMS
Subscription. —Two Dollars per annum, payable. In ad
vance.. No subscription discontinued until all arrear
ages are paid, oDkss at option of the Editor.
AnvaEUßiMiNTß.—Advertisements, not exceeding one
- square, (12 lines,) will be inserted three times for one
dollar, and twenty-five cents.for each additional inser
tion. Those of greater length in proportion.
Job Peitobo—Such as Hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets,
Blanks,-labels, Ac., 4c., executed with Accuracy and on
the ehortest notice.
THE ANGEL OF THE HOSPITAL.
BT 8. C. XBBCKB
-'Twas nightfall in the hospital. The day,
As though its eyesyrere dimmed with bloody run
Prom the red otonds of war, had quenched its light,
And in its stead some pale, sepulchral lamps
Shed their dim lustre in the halls of pain,
And flaunted mystic shadows o’er the walls.
No more the cry of charge l On, soldiers, on!
Stirred the thick billows of the sulphureous air,
But the deep moan of human agony,
Prom pale lips quivering as they strove in vain
To smother mortal pain, appalled the ear
And made the life-blood curdle in the heart.
Ndr-flag, nor bayonet, nor plume, nor Janoe,
Nor burnished gun, nor clarion’s call, nor drum
Displayed the pomp of war, but, instead,
The tourniquet, the scalpel and the draught,
The bandage and the splint were strewn around,
Dumb symbols telling more than tongue could speak
The awful shadow of the fiend of war.
Look, look! What gentle form with oautious step
Passes from couch to coach as silently
As yon faint shadow flickering on the walls,
And, bending o’er the gasping sufferer’s head,
Cools his flushed forehead with the icy bath
Prom her own tender hand, or pours the cup
Whose cordial powers oan quench the inward flame
That burns his heart to ashes, or with voice
As gentle as a mother’s to her babe
Pours pious consolation in his ear?
Bhe came to one long used to war’s rude scenes,
A soldier from his youth, grown gray in arms,
Now pierced with mortal wounds. Untutored, rough,
Though brave and true, uncared for by the world
His life had passed, without a friendly word,
Which, timely spoken to his willing ear,
Had wakened God-like r hopes and filled his heart
With the unfading bloom of sacred truth.
Beside his couch she stood and read the page
Of Heavenly wisdom and the law of love.
And bade him follow the triumphant ohief
Who bears the unconquered banner of the Cross.
The veteran heard with tears and grateful smile,
Like a long-frozen fount whose ice is touched
By the resistless Sun and melts away,
: And, fixing his last gaze.on her and Heaven,
Went to The Judge in penitential prayer.
She passed to one in manhood’s blooming prime.
Lately the glory of the martial field,
But now sore scathed by the fierce shook of arms,
Like tall pine shattered by the lightning stroke,
Prostrate he lay and felt the pangs of death,
And saw its thiokening damp obscure the light
Which makes bur world so beautiful. Yet these
He heeded not. His anxious thoughts had flown
O’er rivers and illimitable woods
To his far cottage in the Western wilds,
Where his young bride and prattling little ones—
Poor, hApless lambs, chased by the wolf of war
Watched for the coming of the absent one
In utter desolation’s bitterness.
0 agonizing thought! which smote his heart
With anguish sharper than the sabre’s point.
The angel came with sympathetic voioe
And whispered in his ear—“ Our God will be
A husband to the widow and embrace
The orphans tenderly within His arms,
Por human sorrow never cries in vain
To His compassionate ears.” The dyingman
Drank in her words with rapture; cheering hope
Shone like a rainbow in his tearful eyes
And arohed oloud of sorrow, while he gave
The dearest earthly treasure of his heart
In resignation to the care of God.
A fair, wan boy of fifteen summers tossed
His wasted limbs upon a cheerless couch.
Ah, how unlike the downy bed prepared
By his fond mother’s love, whose tireless hands
No comfort for her only offspring spared,
Prom earliest childhood when the sweet babe slept
Soft nestling in her bosom all the night
Like half-blown lily sleeping on the heart
Of swelling Summer wave tilL that sad day
He left the untold treasures of her love,
To seek the rude companionship of War.
The fiery fever struck his swelling brain
With raving madness, and the big veins throbbed
A death-knell on his temples, and his breath
Wqb hot and quick as is the panting deer’s
Stretched by the Indian’s arrow on the plain.
“Mother ! oh, mother!” oft his faltering tongue
Shrieked to the cold, bare walls which echoed back
His wailings in the mockery of despair.
Oh, angel nurse! what sorrow wrung thy heart
Por the young sufferer’s grief! She knelt beside
The dying lad, and smoothed the tangled looks
Back from his aching brow, and wept and prayed
With all a woman’s tenderness and love
- That the Good Shepherd would receive this lamb
Far wandering from the dear maternal fold,
And shelter him in His all-circling arms,
In the green valleys of immortal rest.
And so the angel passed from soene to soene
Of human suffering, like that Blessed One,
Himself the man of sorrows and of grief,
Who came on earth to teach the law of lovo
And pour sweet balm upon the mourner’s heart,
Toraise the fallen and restore the lost.
Bright vision of my dreams! thy light shall shine
Through all the darkness of this weary world,
Its selfishness, its coldness and its sin,
Pure as the holy evening star of love,
The brighest planet in the host of heaven.
TOO GOOD CREDIT.
‘ Let me show you one of the finest of
cloths I have seen in six months,’said a
smiling storekeeper to a young married
man, ; whose income from a olerksbip was
in the neighborhood of seven hundred dol
lars.
‘Don’t trouble yourself,,Mr. Edwards,’
replied the oustomer, ‘the silk and buttons
are all I want.’
‘ Oh, no trouble at all, Mr. Jacobs—no
trouble at all. It is a pleasure for me to ‘
show my goods,’ said the storekeeper,
drawing from a shelf the piece of cloth he
had mentioned, and throwing it upon the
counter. ‘ There,’ he added, as he un
folded the glossy broad-oloth and dapped
his hands upon it self-oomplacently ; ‘there
is something worth looking at, and it’s
cheap as dirt. Only four dollars a yard,
and worth six every oent of it. I
bought it at auction, yesterday, at a bar
gain.’
‘ It’s cheap enough, certainly,’ remark
ed Jacobs, half indifferently, as he bent
down to inspeot the cloth; ‘ but I’ve no
money to spare just now.’
‘ Don’t want any money,’ replied Ed
wards, ‘ at least none from such a man as
-you.’
Jacobs looked up into the man’s face in
some doubt as to its meaning.
* Your oredit is good,’ said Edwards,
smiling.
‘Credit! I’ve no credit. I never
aßked a man to trust me in my life,' re
turned the customer. i
‘ I’ll trust you to half that is in my!
store,’ was answered.
‘ Thank you,’ said Jaoobs, feeling a !
little flattered by a compliment like this,!
‘ tut I’ve no want of dry goods. to that j
extent. A skein of silk, a dozen buttons ;
-for my wife, are all I require at present.’
‘ You want a new coat,’ replied the per
severing storekeeper, and he laid his hand
: upon the sleeve of Jacobs’ and examined it
olosely. ‘This one is getting.rusty and
threadbare. A man like you should have !
spme respeot as to his appearance. Let
me see, two yards of this beautiful doth
will - odst- but eight dollars, and I won’t
send in your bill in six months. Eight
j. -: • ® rß I° r a fine broadoloth ooat. Think.
.: of that! Bargains of this kind don’t grow
on every tree.’
While Edwards talked thus he was dis
■ playing the goods he wished to- J sell: in a
®°f > k * et . t * le riot glossy surfaoe
best point of light, and bis quick :
.-• eyo told him that the oustomer was begin
ning to be tempted. 6
i- : off a ooat pattern,’ said he,'
f !i; t«W:np ayardstick, ‘ I know you want
' r on t besitateahoufrthe matter.’ ;-d
! ' *?Mobs did not Noi’ althougbJbe
word was on his tongue., . While he .yet j
hesitated, the coat pattern was' measured
off and severed from the pieoe.
‘ There it is,’ came in a satisfied,, half
triumphant tone- from, the storekeeper’s
lips.' ‘ And the greatest bargain yon ever
had. You want trimmings, of oonrse V
As he spoke he turned to the shelf for
padding, sUk, &0., and while Jaeobs, half
bewildered, stood looking on, ent from one
piece to another nntil the coat trimmings
were all nicely laid out.. This done, Mr.
Edwards faced his customer again, rubbing
his hands from an internal feeling of de
light and said:
* Yon must have a handsome vest to go
with this, of course.’
‘ My vest is a little shabby,’ replied Ja
cobs, as he glanced downward at a gar
ment whioh had seen pretty fair service.
‘ If that’s the best one yon have, it will
never do to go with a new coat,’ said Ed
wards in a deoided tone. ‘ Let me show
yon a beautiful piece of blaok satin.’
And so the storekeeper went on tempt
ing his customer, nntil he sold him a vest
and pantaloons in addition to his- coat.—
After that he fonnd no difficulty in selling
him a silk dress for his wife. Having in
dulged himself with an entire new suit, he
could not, upon reflection, think of passing
by his wife, who had been wishing for a
new silk dress for more than sis months.
| Can’t you think of anything else V in
quired Edwards. ‘ I shall bo happy to
supply whatever you may want in our
line.’
‘ Nothing more, I believe,’ answered Ja
eobs, whose bill was already thirty-five dol
lars ; and he had yet to pay for making his
ooat, pantaloons and vest.
‘ But you want various articles of dry
goods. In a family there is something
called for every day. Tell Mrs. Jacobs to
send for whatever she may need. Never
mind about the money. Your credit is
good with me for any amount.’
When Mr. Jacobs went home and told
his wife what he had done, the unreflecting
woman was delighted.
‘ I wish yon had taken a piece of mus
lin,’ said she. ‘We want sheets and pillow
oases badly.’
‘ Yon oan get a piece,’ replied Jacobs.
‘We won’t have to pay for it now. Ed
wards will send in the bill at the end of
six months, and it will be easy enough to
pay for it then.’
‘ Oh, yes, easy enough,’ responded his
wife, confidently. ,
So a pieoe of muslin was procured on the
oredit aooonnt. But things did not stop
here. A oredit account is so often like a
breach in a canal; the stream is small at
first, but soon inoreases to a rninous cur
rent. Now that want had found a supply
source, want beoame more clamorous than
before. Soaroely a day passed but Mr. or
Mrs. Jacobs did not order something from
the store, not dreaming, simple souls, that
an alarming, heavy debt was accumulating
against them.
As to the inoome of Mr. Jaoobs, it was
not large. He was, as has been intimated,
a olerk in a wholesale store, and received
a salary of seven hundred dollars a year.
His family oonsisted of a wife and three
ohildren, and he found it neoessary to be
prudent in all his expenditures, in order ‘to
make ends meet,’ somewhat, independent
in his feelings he had never asked credit
of any one with whom he dealt, and no one
offering it, previous to the temptation or
inducement held out by Edwards, he had
regulated his out-goes by his income. By
this means he managed to keep even with
the world ; tho’ not to gain any advantage
on the side of fortune. Let us see if his
good credit has been of any real service
to him.
It was very pleasant to have things com
fortable for a little display, without feeliDg
that indulgences drained the purse too
heavily. And a weak vanity on the part
of Jacobs was gratified by the flattering
opinion of their honesty entertained by
Edwards, the storekeeper. His credit
was good, and he was proud of the fact.—
But the day of reckoning drew near and at
last it came.
Notwithstanding the oredit at the dry
goods store, there was no more money in the
young man’s purse at the end of six months
than at the beginning. The cash that
would have gone for clothing when neces
sity called for additions to the family ward
robe, had been spent for things the pur
chase of whioh would have been omitted
but for the fact that the dollars were in
the purse instead of in the storekeeper’s
hand and tempted needless, expenditures.
The end of the six months’ credit ap
proaohed, and the mind of Jacobs began to
rest upon the dry goods dealer’s bill, and
tojbe disturbed by a feeling of anxiety.—
As to the amount of this bill, he was in
some uncertainty, but he thought it could
not be less than forty 'dollars. That was
a large sum for him to owe, particularly as
he had nothing ahead, and ourrent expen
ses were fully up to his income. It was
now, for the first time in his life, that
Jacobs felt the nightmare pressure of debt,
and it seemed at times as if it wonld almost
suffocate him.
.One evening he came home feeling more
sober than usual. He had thought of little
else all day except his bill at the store.
On meeting his wife he saw something was
wrong.
‘"What ails you, Jane ?’ he said kindly.
‘ Are you sick ?’
‘ No,’ was the simple reply. But her
eyes dropped as she said it, and her hus
band saw that her lips quivered.
‘ Something is wrong, Jane,’ said her
husband.
Tears stole to the wife’s oheeks from
bonoath the lialf-olosed lids—her bosom
labored with the weight of some pressure.
‘ Tell mo Jane,’ urged Jaoobs, ‘ if any
thing is wrong. Yourmanner alarms me.
Are any of the children siok V
■■ ’ Ok, no, oh, no. Nothing of that,’was
the quiok reply, ‘ but—but—Mr. Edwards
has sent in.his bill.’
j ‘ That was to be expeoted, of course,’
said Jaoobs, with forced oalmness. ‘The
oredit was only for six months. But how
much is the bill V
His voice was unsteady as he asked the
question.
‘ A torodred and twenty dollars !* and
poor Mrs. Jacobs burst into tears,
i * m P oSß *^ e \ 9 exclaimed the startled
; husband. * Impossible ! there 4s some
; mistake! A hunted and twenty dollars!
‘ There is the bill,’ and Mrs. Jacobs
drejr it from her bosom, -
-Jacobs glanoed -eagerly at the footing
np of the long.oplumn of figures. There,
were, numerals to the.value of. one hundred
! and twenty. -
ft, he eaid, in a troubled
“THAT OOTOTBT I 8 THI HOST MtOOTJttOUB VHXU LABOT OOJIMAHDB THK WMTOW KMWA&D.”—BUOHAHAH.
LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, JUNE 10, 1862.
voice, ‘ Edwards must have made a mis
take.’
_ * So I thought when I first looked at the
bill,” replied Mrs. Jaeobs, recovering her
self, yet speaking in a sad voioe. ‘ Bnt
I’m sorry that it’s all right. I have looked
over it and over it again, and cannot find
an error. Oh, dear, how foolish I have
been. It was so easy to get goods when
no money was to be paid down. Bnt I
never thought of a bill like this. Never!’
Jaeobs sat for some moments with his
eyes upon the floor. - He was thinking
rapidly.
‘ So much for good oredit,’ he said 8t
length, taking a long breath. ‘ What a
fool I have been., That fellow, Edwards,
has gone to windward of me completely;
he knew that if he got me on his book, he
would secure three dollars to one pf my
money, beyond what he would get by cash
down system. Ah, are we happier now
for the extra dry goods we have procured ?
Not a whit. Our bodies have been a little
better clothed, and our love of display
gratified to some extent. But has all that
wrought a compensation for the pain of
this day of reckoning ?
Poor Mrs. Jacobs was silent. Sadly
was she repenting of her part in the folly
they had committed.
Tea time came, but neither husband nor
wife oould do much more than taste food.
That bill of a hundred and twenty dollars
had taken away their appetites. The night
that followed brought to neither of them
a very refreshing slumber; and in the
morning they awoke sober minded and lit
tle inolined for conversation. But one
thought was in the mind of Mr. Jaeobs—
the bill of- Mr. Edwards ; and one feeling
in the mind of his wife—self-reproach for
her part in the work of embarrassment.
‘ What will you do V said Mrs. Jaoobs,
in a voice that was unsteady, looking into
her husband’s face with glistening eyes, as
she laid her hand upon his arm, oansing
him to panse as he was about leaving the
house.
‘ I m sure I don’t know,’ replied the
young man gloomily. ‘ I suppose I shall
have to ask him to wait. But I’m sure I’d
rather take a horse-whipping. Good ored
it J He’ll sing a different song now.’
For a moment or two longer the hus
band and wife stood looking at each other.
Then as each sighed heavily, the former
turned away and left the house. His road
to business was past the store of Mr. Ed
wards, but he now avoided the street in
which he lived, and went a whole block
out of the way to do so.
‘ How am I to pay this bill V murmured
the unhappy Jacobs, pausing in his work
for the twentieth time, as he sat at his
desk, and giving his mind up to troubled
thoughts.
Just at that moment the senior partner
in the establishment came up and stood
beside him.
1 Well, my young friend,’ said he, kind
ly, ‘ how are you getting along V Jaoobs
tried to smile and look cheerful, as he re
plied—
‘ Pretty well, sir.’ But his voice had
in it a touch of despondency.
‘ Let me see,’ remarked the employer,
after a pause, ‘ your regular year is np to
day, is it not V
‘ Yes,’ replied Jaoobs, his heart sinking
more heavily in his bosom, for the ques
tion suggested a discharge from bis place,
business having been dull for some time.
‘ I was looking at your aooount yester
day,’ resumed the employer, ‘ and find
that it is drawn up olose. Have you no
thing ahead V
‘ Not a dollar, 1 am sorry to say,’ re
turned Jaeobs. ‘ Living is very expensive,
and I have six mouths to feed.’
‘ That being the case,’ said the employ
er, ‘ as you have been faithful to us, and
your services are valuable, we must add
something to your salary. Now you re
ceive seven hundred dollars ?’
‘ Yes, sir.’
‘ We will call it eight hundred and fifty.’
A sudden light flashed in the faoe of
the unhappy clerk ; seeing which, the em
ployer, already blessed in blessing another,
added—
1 And it shall be for the last as well as
for the coming year. I will fill you out a
cheok for a hundred and fifty dollars, as
balance due up to this day.’
The feelings of Jaoobs were too much
agitated to trust himself to oral thanks, as
he received the oheck, whioh the employer
immediately filled up; but his countenance
fully expressed his grateful emotion.
A little while afterwards the young man
entered the store of Edwards, who met
him with a smiling faoe.
‘ I have come to settle your bill,’ said
Jacobs.
‘ You needn’t have troubled yourself
about that,’ replied the storekeeper,
‘ though money is always acceptable.’
The money was paid ahd the bill re
ceipted, when Edwards, rubbing his hands
an aotion peouliar to him when in a happy
frame of mind, said—
‘ And now what shall I show you V
‘ Nothing,’ was the young man’s reply.
‘ Nothing ? Don’t say that,’ replied
Edwards.
‘ I’ve no money to spare,’ answered
Jaoobs.
‘ That’s of no oonsequenoe. Your cred
it is good for any amount.’
‘ A world too good, I find,’ said Jaoobs,
beginning to button up his ooat with the
air of a man who has lost his pocket book,
and feels disposed to look well that his
purse doesn’t follow in the same unprofit
able direction.
‘ How so? What do you mean ?’ asked
the storekeeper.
‘My good credit has taken a hundred
and twenty dollars out of my pocket,’ re
plied Jacobs.
* I don’t understand you,’ said Ed-,
wards, looking serious.
‘lt’s a very plain case,’ answered Ja
cobs.
‘ This orodit account at your store has
induced myself and wife to purohase twico
as many goods as we would otherwise have
bought. That has-taken one hundred and
twenty dollars out of my pocket; sixty dol
lars more have been spent under tempta
tion, beoause it was in the purse instead of
being paid out for goods credited to us on
your books. Now you understand me ?’
The storekeeper was silent.
‘ Good morning; Mr. Edwards,’ said
Jacobs. When T have ‘cash ’to spare, I
shall be happy, to spend it with, you, but
no more book aocounts for me.’
. Wiser will they be who profit by the ex
perience Of Mr. Jacobs.- These oredit aor
counts are a curse to people witha inoder
atemcbme,ahd;Bfi6iildnever,uhder anv
pretence;be opened. *? 7
ASTOBY OF TO-DAY.
‘Now; Martin, I’ve got everything
stowed away in this bundle, though it was
mighty hard work. I’ve done np them two
shirts fit for a king, and I’ve stowed away
a little batch of donghnnts in one corner,
and I’ve given yon a green needle-book,
and the top is filled with pins, and you will
find sewin’silk, and brown thread and-a
couple o’ darnin’ needles in one corner.
You’ve got three pair of nice, warm socks,
that I knit last snmmer, that never went
on your feet. Yon must look out and not
wet’em, whatever ; oomes, for .1 always
thought your father eanght his death cold
the day he felled the hickory tree in the
south meadow, for he came home with his
soppin’ wet, and was so hoarse he couldn’t
speak a lond word the next day, and before
the week was gone the oongh set in, which
earned him to his graved You’ll remember,
Martin, and mind don’t get your feet wet?’
‘l’ll do the best I oan, mother. You
talk as if yon didn’t know much about the
rough and tumble time we’ve got to go
through, bnt yon mean it all right.’
It was in a large kitchen of a small,
old-fashioned country cottage, that these
words were spoken. Yon oould not have
helped liking the old woman’s face, pale
and faded though it was with years, and
sickness and care; it had suoh a good
mother look, and was full of kindness and
sympathy.
She was poor and old, her hnßband had
long ago laid down on that last brown pil
low whioh the earth spreads smooth for all
her ehildren. And around his grave clus
tered half a dozen smaller ones, sons and
daughters who had gone before him.
So Martin Johnson was all that remained
to his mother; the hope and staff of her
old age. All the tendrils of her love wove
themselves around him; and he was a
kind, thoughtful, and industrious son,
whose highest ambition was to pay off the
mortgages on the old homestead, and then
to settle down there for life.
But when the summer orops were most
ly in, and the winter and the hard times
promised little work to recompense for farm
labor, he had been induoed to join a com
pany of volunteers forming in his town.
And now the last hour with his mother had
oome, and he stands there, the young,
brave, stalwart toaa, a»d there, is .AStrange
weakness about his heart and huskiness in
his throat, and he wishes he oould get away
without speaking the last word.
‘Come, mpther,’ he says, stowing the
large bundle in his deep ooat pocket, ‘ It
is high time I was off, so we must say good
bye. Take oare of yourself, do, and don’t
go fretting yourself about me. I’ll write
as often as I can.’
The old woman put her feeble arms
about the strong man. ‘Oh, my boy!’
and the sobs shook her gray hairs, ‘ you
won’t forget your poor old mother, that
loves you better than her life, will you ?
You’ll remember how the morning sun will
never rise, and the night will never fall, in
whioh she doesn’t pray God to take oare of
her boy ; and yon won’t forget the little
red covered Bible, I pnt in a oorner of the
bundle V
‘ No, I won’t forget it. Come now,
mother, give me a real hearty, cheerful
good bye. Don’t look on the dark side.—
Maybe I shall be back before tho year is
over, then if he’s done his duty, as a brave
man should, and may be get promoted,
then you’ll be proud of your soldier boy ?’
‘ But you’re all I’ve got, Martin, and if
anything shonld happen to yon it would
break my heart—it would break it, Mar
tin.’
‘ Don’t talk of anything happening,
mother, except what’s good. Come now,
cheer up, for I want a last smile, instead
of a last sob, and there isn’t another
minute to spare!
Mrs. Johnson swallowed down her sobs,
and drawing down the sunburnt face to her
lips, she said with a tremulous smile, ‘ God
bless you my precious boy !’
‘ God bless you, mother!’ he oould not
trust his voioe to speak another word, and
he dashed away.
She stood in the door and watched him
until he was out of sight, and she saw him
brush his hand across his eyes several
times before he turned and waved it to her.
Onoe her voioe followed after him.
‘ Now don’t forget the doughnuts, Mar
tin !’
‘ I shan’t the next time I’m hungry.’
‘ They were the last words she heard.—
A moment later and he was out of sight,
and Mrs. Johnson went in and closed the
door. God help him !
‘ls there any tidings from the war,
’Squire Earnham ?’ asked Mrs. Johnson,
as that gentleman entered her oottage one
pleasant morning in early autumn. Farn
ham was a bluff, rubiound faoed, corpu
lent, good natured sort of a man. That
very morning a short paragraph in the
country newspaper had oaught his eye, and
it ran:
‘ Martin Johnson, of the 3d Vermont
Regiment, was shot by a scout last night
while on guard duty.’
The ’Squire saw at the first glance that
the terrible tidings had not reached Mrs.
Johnson. He had ridden over to oondole
with her, and it had fallen to him to break
the news to the stricken mother as best he
could.
* Well, yes,’ said the gentleman, taking
a ehair in the small parlor, and feeling
very awkward, ‘ we’ve had some news.’
There was something in the tone whioh
made Mrs. Johnson look up with a throb
of fear in her heart. ‘ls it bad news ?’
she asked.
‘ Mrs. Johnson, I am sorry for
my .soul!’ said ’Squire Farnham.
Perhaps a woman would have broken
the news more tenderly, but the ’Squire
was a very blunt man, and did it after his
own fashion.
- Mrs. Johnson’s lips grew very white ;
she came toward the ’Squire, and said in
a rapid, trembling voice :
‘ Have you heard anything about mv
boy?’
‘ Mrs. Johnson, he’s gone !’
She did not shriek or scream—she sat
down in the nearest ohauv and lifted up
her withered hands, and while the ; tears
were swimming down her pale'oheeks, she
moaned:
‘ Don’t say so, ’Squire Farnham, don’t
say my boy haa gone. God has got all
the rest, I thought He’d leave him to my
old age!
No, no, itpan’t be that Martin’s -gone
~that I shall never.-hear his,light, ; quiok
step on the walk, or see his dear iiioe come
" got'
in the vide, wide world, and then I was so
proud of him, and I loved him so.
, My little hjartfo whose yellow onrls I
used to wind, around my fingers when he
was a baby, crowing in my lap—my little
bine-eyed Martin lying away off stiff and
cold, with no mother to bend down her
face over him when he looked up and cal
led on her the last time—oh, don’t say so,
my heart will break, moaned tho poor mo
ther, as the troth began to dawn more fol
ly on her.’
’Squire Farnham was a strong man, bnt
he bowed his head and wept like-a child.
; At last he looked np, for there was a
sudden fall. Mrs.'Johnson had fainted.
‘ God help her,’ he. said, as he lifteid
her on the bed in the next room. ‘ She
has said the troth, her heart will surely
break.’
Dear reader, on the golden baok. ground
of last summer how many suoh dark and
terrible.soenes have, been painted ?
Let ns, who mourn beloved dead npon
the battle-field, be humble, be pitiful and
grateful to God that no blow has fallen
upon onr homes; and may he drop the
dews of His healing on the hearts whioh
ihave been torn with that anguish for whioh
there is neither help, nor consolation.
Marriage and Housekeeping.
BY ASPHALTOR,
When I took a rib and started house
keeping, my mother said, 1 Joe, never do
something for nothing, and look well after
a paok of lazy huzzies that rnn from honse
to honse gathering soandal, and helping
their neighbors through with short dinners
—for they always happen to ‘call' at meal
times. Shnn them, 1 say, Joe, or they
will bankrupt yon, separate yon from yonr
wife, and finally drive yon oat of honse
and home. Its all true, Joe, what I say.
You have only seen the world in miniature
yet. I have seen both sides and almost
both ends.’
Well, thinks I to myself, the old lady
has been behind the onrtain- has had bad
neighbors, and was growing childish in the
bargain.
I had rather a liking for a friend now
and then ; bnt had never yet been to house
keeping. I fancied, however, that I oould
manage such business tolerably well at the
same time, bnt I had everything to learn,
and bad tutors to begin with.
My wife was an affable little person and
youoger than desirable for the head of a
family, but she was ‘ suoh a dear good soul,’
as people say, that everybody liked her.
She always had a dollar or so for a ohaitable
institution—a spare dress for a poor friend,
a loaf of bread for a beggar, and suoh a
heart to help" people out of trouble—would
lend her watoh or jewelry to a friend at
any time to ‘ spout’ when Bhe failed to have
the reqnired amount to lone or rather to
give away, for payment was never thought
of, nor was anything ever returned that
their claws encompassed. Nevertheless I
thought I oould mould my wife to my own
views in due course of time.
As time advanoed the more I thought of
my mother’s advice, for I. have learned to
respeot her opinions—always taking into
consideration the goodness of heart of my
wife, and the possibility of sharpers and
meddlers one day getting the best of her by
too much confidence on her part.-' Still I
had faith in her good sense and the purity of
her motives ; besides I felt la match for any
thing that I should oome in oontact with,
especially in managing and oontroling my
own affairs.
My wife was beloved by everybody,
and especially those meddling, living ma
chines who grow fat by pushing their long
noses into everybody’s business but their
own ; for, as my mother told me they began
to grow troublesome within a few months,
and their frequent calls were anything but
pleasant, and at times, when least expected
or wanted—just dropped in—sorry to
trouble you at meal times, but oan never
refuse to take a meal with a friend,
although just left the table—one relishes a
meal out better than at home—and a
thousand such excuses of the kind would
ring upon my ears from these strolling gun
boats, that seem to have been formed to
annoy their unfortunate acquaintances and
neighbors.
If my wife was siok, the house would be
run down with anxious friends enquiring
about her health and offering their services,
when above all things their very presence
was detested. < Ting-a-ling-a-ling’ goes
the bell again, and off starts tho servant
half-mad. In walks Mrs. Pegram, who
commenoed apologizing for not calling be
fore— ‘ just beard of Mrs, Peters’ sickness
—left everything just as it stood—and such
a looking bouse . 1 have left, to be suts —
but you know, Mrs. Peters,! cannot stay
at home when I can bo of service to a:sick
friend, and suoh a friend! Why,.dear me,
how bad you look—l really fear you are
going into adeoline. Poor Mr. Peters,he
will have suoh a care should anything se
rious 00001. You must U3e my new Style
of gruel ; it’s delightful—strengthens one
so; it’s purely my own invention, and
made of brandy, milk and eggs ; half of
these dootors know nothing. Do you know,
Mrs. Peters, I felt at times like ordering
them out of the house. But above all
things, you must keep quiet—don’t allow
any one to disturb you—some people are
so stupid. Shut out-all company and keep
yourself entirely seoluded; don’t! allow any
one to talk to you, it is so tiresome, when
above all'things one wants rest.’ And on
the screeching jade went without interrup
tion or intermission, except scarcely lpng
enough to take breath.
ffF*A manufacturer and dealer in quack i
medioines recently wrote to a friend for a
strong recommendation for his fthe manu
facturer’s) ‘ Balsam.’ In a few days he
received the following, which ,we call pretty
strong : ‘ Dear Sir The land.. composing
this farm has, hitherto been so poor that a 1
Scotchman could not get a living off of it,
and so stony that we had to slice our potato
es and plant them edgewise ; bat bearing of
your balsam, I put some on the corner of
of a ten-aore field,''surrounded by a rail
fence, and in the morning l found that
the rook had entirely disappeared, a neat
stone w&ll.eneiroleidthe field, and the rails
were split into fire-wood and,; piled up
symmetrically in my baok yard. I put
halfan ounce , in the middle' of a hnokleberry
swamp: in two days it was off;
planted with, corn and pumpkins, and a
row of peach t*ees' ih ; Ml blossom through
th'e middle.' ,Ais^ah : 'evidehtie'bf
‘meridohs strengra/ T would'say 1 that it
...... drew a striking likehesk of my eldest'sonj
OF* A young lady studying French and •?«* *
Jt . S blister all over las stomaob, drew »Toad |
finding that ■‘belle’- nieant ‘fine,’ tdldsome-v. of p oUttee S; if M ß,- ln aes Amsk^liand
body /in » fitter 1 tliatwe had ai eventually.idea*.* pr«e*>E Sjheiysseve#
of belle treather lately. ’' " '‘'“‘f. v dolUrsiAalottery.’ c-'h•' :
' ' vi9?iesas cv’-’n tllr-i j
She, continued —‘ I shall stay at least a
week and manage your household affairs,
for 1 know, what it is to be pestered with
servants—there’s no depending on them.
Poor Mr. Pegram will find no dinner to
day,’ and she might have added, with all
propriety, as usual—< and you know I al
ways make good dinners, topping off with
a pudding that leaves my dear 'good hus
band in suoh a good humor. I really fear
I shall worry you, but one cannot help giv
ing vent to theirfeelings.’
; To which Mrs. Peters must say some
thing, however siok and miserable. But
nothing would do but aotnally driving the
jade out of the house, for sbe had mr deli
cacy,and.qonld not be insulted. This ends
the first chapter in housekeeping. The sec
ond will be to put ihy mother’s advice in
praotioe. —New York Atlas l
Secesh Strategy.
The Memphis people toe foil' of glee at
thestratagems whiohtheyallege have been
earned baby-some young man named John
Morgan, a Kentookran. One ofhia last ex
ploits is relatedby Therfppeal-jis follows:
The herbio yonng Kentnokian is as foil
of stratagem as he is of daring. .He dis
guised himself as -a countryman and took
a wagon-load of meal to Nashville the
other day. Driving straight to foe St.
Cloud Hotel, be left his wagon at the doob
in oharge of. a trusty follower, and went
into the dining-room of the hotel, where he
sat down to dinner opposite Glen. MoCook:
‘ Gin. MoCook, I suppose ?’ said the dis
guised partisan, bowing across the table.
‘ Yon are right; sir;’ said McCook, ‘that
is my name.’
‘ Well, Gineral, if there’s no seoeshers
about, I’ve got something to tell yon right
here.’
Looking around, the General requested
his new acquaintance to proceed with what
he had to say.
‘ Well, Gineral, I live np here olose by
Burke’s Mills, right in the midst of a nest
of red-hot seoeshers, and they swear yonr
soldiers shan’t have a peak of meal if they
have to starve for it. ; Bnt, Gineral, I’m
all right on the goose, though I don’t have,
mnoh to say about home, and so I got a
wagon-load of meal ground, andl’ye brung
it down here to-day, and it’s now out thar
in the street, and yon oan have it if yon
want it.’
Gen. McCook was highly delighted—
expressed his gratitude to the plain-looking
oountryman for his kindness, praised his
loyalty to the ‘ old flag,’ eto., and at onoe
ordered the meal to be taken to the oom
missary of his brigade, and paid for it -id
gold and silver. This transaction accom
plished, the counterfeit wagbner again re
paired to Gen. 1 MbCook’s headquarters,
where, after requesting a striotly private
interview, he told the ‘ Gineral ’ that if he
wonld send oat 150 men to snoh a plaoo,
in snoh a neighborhood in Davidson county,
he would guide them right into that (nest
of seoeshers . and traitors,’ where they
might ‘ bag ’ a large quantity of
other contraband of war,’ besides a num
ber of the worst rebels that ever assisted
in ‘ busting np ’ this ‘ glorious Union.’
Gen. MoCook- feii into the snare; ‘as easy
as rolling off a log,’ and all the prelimi
nary arrangements were made, and time
and pl&oe agreed upon, for the 150 Union
soldiers to meet their trusty gnide.
McCook’s detachment of 150 men kept
the appointment faithfully, and of oourse
Capt. Morgan, no longer disguised, was
there to meet them ; but unfortunately for
them, he was not alone—he had a sufficient
number of well armed horsemen to capture
the whole Yankee force without firing a
gnn. So he took them quietly, and sent
them swiftly to the rear, to be exchanged
in dne course—all but one, an officer, whom
he released on parole, and bade, him return
to Gen. MeCook with the compliments of
his meal-selling acquaintance, who had the
pleasure of meeting him at the St. Cloud
a few days before.
Labor and Wait.
Yes; young man, learn to labor ! Don’t
go idling about, imagining yourself a fine
gentleman, but labor ; not with the, hands
merely while the head is doing Something
else, (nodding perhaps,) but with the whole
soul and body too. No matter what the
work be, if it is worth doing at all, it is
worth doing well; so put your whole mind
to it, bend every energy to the task, add
you will accomplish your,object. .
If you are a clerk, with only, a small
salary, don’t be discouraged, work, away,
be faithful in all .things, keep yonr eyes
open, he striotly honest, live within your
income, labor with your heart in the oanse;
patiently wait, and your time will come.
Other olorks have risen to eminenoe; why
not you.
If a mechanic, stick to your business,
hammer away, let nothing entice you from
the path of integrity; keep your mind
npon your work; respect your self; labor
cheerfully, and thongh small your compen
sation, ‘ the good time’ is surely coming,
you will yet be appreciated.
Many a meohanio has built the ladder by
which he has ascended to high honors.
So may you.
If yon belong to any of the learned profes
sions, don’t hang out your sign, then fold
your arms and go to sleep, expeoting to be
roused some day and invited to take the
highest seat in the land. That is no way
to gain distinction, unless it be as a drone ;
but keep wide awake; stir about. You
will improve your health by the exercise,
if nothing more. If you "have no business
calls to attend to, drive deeper into your
books; you can study if you can’t practice,
and be gaining knowledge if not money.
Keep strait forward in the path where
yoUr feet have been placed; labor with
your might, mind and strength, and your
reward is not far distant.
Whatever be yonr occupation, make no
haste to be rich ; if you are long gather
ing you will be more oareful about
scattering, and thus stand a better chance
hf having your old age supportable by the
industry and prudenoe of your younger
days. It is by drops the ocean is filled,
yet how vast and deep. The sea-shore is
oomposed of single grains of sand; yet
how far it stretohes around the mighty
waters. Thus if is by single efforts and
unwearied labor that fame and honor are
attained.'
HUUfi LANCABTBE iKTSIiIiIGSirOBB
A „ job .
No. NORm DUKE" STREET," LANCASTER; PA.
The Jobbing U thorooghly ftmlihed with
sew end elegmaitype of every description, end is under
the eherge of i pnaihtt'iat experienced Job Printers
The Proprietor* emtCMMAto
PRINT CHBOKB, :^
-• NOTE&LBGAL BLANKS,
irCABBB AND OIROUIiARS,
TtTT.T. HEAPS ANDHANDBILLS,v .
BROGB AMMES\AND POSTERS,
PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS,
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONB,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING,
with nentnee*. accuracy anddigpatr.h, mop* reeeonej
ble terns, end in a menner not excell edWt eny. WtepllHn
mentln the dty. ... • *v, /--X
AErOrders ihjm a ttafl or othtfwi**,
promptly.attended to. . . -
GEO. SANDERSON * BON,
InteUlfenwrOAc*
No. 8 North Duke street, lA*wa*ter»P»*
18 62. ' APBIL.
ABBITAL OB'
B(ZiXNDID NIW BPEING GOODS
' r- ; A* ' ■-
JVJTM-M BR 0 8.
1 Lot of FOULARD SHK&'oniyiau^ea^.
1 Lot Spring OheUie DELAINES, 12)&, worth SOe.
1 Lot Brocha VALENCIAS, Boqua, 85,81,»T}50.
1 Lot Spper Boqne GHALLXXB, only 25e.
SHEPHERDS’ PLAIDS, beautiful end good, 25k
All our beet CALICOES, selling et 12Ue.
1 Lot Extra Good CALICOES, only 10c.
1 Lot excellent Bonnet end Apron Gingham*, 123£c.
SHAWL AND CLOAK BOOM.
New Stock of
PRING SHAWLS AND CLOAKS.
Bsiunnra, Stills Shawls.
Every day brings something new.”
CHOICE BARGAINS OF THE DAY, '
Opened daily at • '
. WENTZBBOS:,.
No. 6 Eaat Klpg Street. i
Mae. dehorest’s
UARTEELY MIRROR OF FAS-HIOJNB,
GREAT IMPROVEMENTS,
. TH* SOMMKR NUMBSB WILL OONTAIS "
FOUR' LARGE AND SPLENDID FASHION-PLATES,
THREE FULL-SIZED PATTERNS** ■ '
Oomprising:tfc«cN«wFrench ft l* £legas£t&(eeTe>*&d
with nearly lOQ.Engrftflngs of all
the novelties for Summer Bonnets,' Cloaks, 1 Trimmings,
Children’s Dresses, and valuable informatlonto Blifll
nets. Dress. Makers, Mothers, and Ladle*.gencnUy, pre
senting the largest and best Fashion Magazine In the'World
published 473 Broadway, New York, and sold everywhere et
25 eta., or sent by mill poet froe, on receipt of the amount.
Yearly $1 with the following valnable premloin;
Each yearly subscriber-will be entitled to. the selection
of 50 cents worth'of plain patterns, '-deelght in
the book, or from the sbow-room, or be ordered
and sent by mail any time daring the year^by paying Uie
postage.
Splendid Inducements-to Canvassers.
SUMMER NUMBER -WILL BE READY ON OR ABOUT
THE FIRST OP’MAY.
DRESShER’B
HAIR JR If JSLRY 3TORR,
No. 200 North Bth Strxbt abovi Rag*,
PHILADELPHIA. J
On hand and for sale, a choice assortment ol superior
patterns, and will plait to order
BRACELETS, •
EAR RINGS,
FINGER RINGS,
BREAST PINS,
OROBBEB,
NECKLACES,
GUARD AND *
VEST CHAINB.
49" Orders enclosing tbo hair to be plaited may be sent
by mail. Oirea drawing os near as you can on paper, and
onebae such amount as you may choose to pay.
Costs as follows: Ear Rings $2 to $6 —Breast Pinß $8 to
s7—Finger Rings 76 cents to--s3.so—VestChains $6 to s 7—
Necklaces $2 to $lO. .
45" Hair pat into Medalions, Box Breast Pins, Rings, Ac.
OLD GOLD AND-SILVER BOUGHT AT FAIR BITES.
apr 16 ly!4
NEW SPRISG BTYLE S .
The undersigned calls special attention to a new and
well selected stock of
£tl L L 11? ER Y GOODS,
of the latest styles, consisting of colored and white Straw
Goods of all kinds and prices, bonnet frames to fit every
body, French and Amerie&n Flowers in great variety,, rib*
bona, quillings, lares, edgings, Jolnbland, gimp and hair
lace, and a great variety of Bonnet Trimmings, silk, satin,
crape and different kinds of bonnet materials,
TRIMMED, STRAW A FANCY BONNETS, S\
jMfeUj & large assortment to trait every taste, cape* UM
/pw nett, crown-lining, wire, and a great many
articles unnecessary to mention, all of which I will sell
cheaper than the cheapest, either wholesale or retail.
Also, a fine asaortmont of JEWELRY and DRY (3001)8.
on hand, and various Notions, all of which will be sold
very cheap.
Call and examine my stock before purchasing elsewhere.
Thankful lor past favors, the subscriber hopes to have the
patronage of his old customers, and many new ones;
L. BAUM,
No. 81 North Queen St.
apr 1 3m 12]
QPENINQ OF SEW SPUING GOODS.
JUST RECEIVED, direct from Naw York and Philadel
phia, a choice lot ol .. . ,j
NEW SPRING DRESS GOODS;
Shepherd’s Plaids of every variety. Also, a-large lot of
NEW CHINTZES,
-Pnrchasod at low prices lor cash, which 'we guarantee ’to
soil at prices that will . .
DEPY COMPETITION. - ; WI
DEST ENGLISH CHINTZES 12% coots.
BEST MKRBIMAO CH1NTZE5.:;....:..... ...12%cents.
BEST. AMERICAN »42% cents.
BEST COCHECO CHINTZES... ...42% cents.
BEST PACIFIC CHINTZES:..; «nts.
BEST SPRAGUE CHINTZES 12% cents.
BEST MOURNING 0H1NTZ88....;.
AJ.SO,
Large lot of good, heavy T)omestle GINGHAMS, 12% cts.;
Good Apron Glnghubs and-Checks, 12% cents; Good
Bleached and Unbleached MUSLINS, one yardwide, 12%
cents; Cotton Flabhels. 12%cents. 1
NOW IS THE TIME TO BUY. •
A fall line of BLACK SILKS, cheap.' New Styles of
SPRING DREBB GOODS *;; t
Of every variety and quality,
; OPENING ,DAILY. ;
mar 18 tf 10]
jpiNE WATCHES 1 RICH JEWELRY I
SILVER WAREI SILVER WAREU
PIE, OAKE AND BUTTER KNIVES.
SUGAR, CREAM AND OYSTER SPOONS. ,
SOUP AND OYSTER LADLM, -. >
SPOONS, PORKS,. 40,
Latest Sttlzs ASD Best WoßKiiaßsaiP.
SILVER-PLATED WARE 1. SILVER-PLATED WABBII
BASKETS, CASTORS, PITCHERS, MUGS.
BPOONB, PORKS, &0., Ac,
JUST. FBO.K TBj FAOf.OSIXB. ‘
WATOHEB! WATCHEBII WA.TOHESUI
‘ ; WAKBANTMD TIHKUIPXBS.
CHEAP!: CHEAP!!. CHEAP!!
CL 00 K-SJ CLOCKS!! CLOCKS!!!
GILT, COLUMN AKU PLAIIt FBOHTB.
JEWELRY! JEWELRY!! JEWELRY!!
• - LATEST STILES AND BEST QUALITY. .
RHOADS k GILLESPIE,
22% Wise Kiro Ste**JV
Between Cooper’s Hotel and J. G. Getz's Dry Goods Store!
dec 17 • U 49
Lancaster home mutual, fike
INSURANCE COMPANY.
OFFICE, NO. 08 EAST KINO STREET.
This Company having received applications for Insur
ance of Real Estate 31150,000) to Abe amount required by
its Charter, commenced issuing policies on the let day of
April, 1862, and Is now prepared to insure Real and Per
sonal Property in the City and County of Lancaster. It is
strictly on the mutual principle, no profits being contem
plated, but an immense saving. Stock lnsurance Compa
nies being principally deafened for the benefit of the stock
holders, this company has been organized for the special
benefit of the Insnred parties, and they will control it, as
there are no stockholders to do so. Every person intnHng
property in this company thereby become Sr-e .member
thereof, and will be represented therein to the extent of
his insurance. - «
Draxct'BS—Bov. Wo. T. Gerhard, President; D. G.
Swartz and J. B.Bwartzwelder, Vice Presidents; Christian
XL Lefeicr, Secretary ; John Sheaffer, Treasurer; John D.
Skilos, Christian Gast, Barton B. Martin and Lawrence
Knapp. [aprlsBml4
Halr dressing and shaving
BALO 0 N ? -
SAMUEL J. WILLIAMS takes pleasure In notifying his
nnmerons friends and customers, that he has removed: his
Saloon from Cooper’s Hotel to the basement nnder Peter
M’Conomy’s Shoe Btore. in West King street, ilea# the
M rket House, and has fitted it.np in hew and elegant style
or the accommodation of customers. ' ’ *
HAIR DRESSING, SHAVING AND SHAMPOOSING
done in the m st scientific and fashionable style, and his
ionxorial operations are performed with,the greatekt lease
; and comfort to all concerned.
He will also color the hair and whiskers,’ and guarantee
the colors to-be applied without injury.to either. 1
Give the Professor a call, and be flatters himself that be
will be able to render general satisfaction.; • • - <
49* Don’t make & mistake and get Into the wrong shop.
Recollect, it Is Immediately under M’Oonomy’s Shde Store.
; apr lfitf 11] ~ ,8. J^.WILL^MS.
DR . J . T . B A K BR.V
HOMUBOPATpaG-PHYSIOUN,
Of IUOAIIIE Oil!', •-
may be consulted professionally, at : his Gflk& at Hssry
Bear’s Hotel, in the Borough of Strasbnrg, on Thursday of
each Week; from 10 o'clock in-the morning to three'in’the
afternoon. 1 * v
An opportunity Is thus afforded to residents of Strasbnrg
,nnd vicinity to avail themselves of Homoeopathic fees*®*® ll ®,
'and females suffering from chronic diseases may enjoy the
advise of ;oha who. has mads this clsss of diseases a
speciality. . J.T. BAKER, M.D.,
Homoeopathic Physician,
oct 22 tf 41J East King street, above Lima, Lancaster
£| G-H. APH ALBUMS.
* p. ' ■ ' ; dt : . ‘ . '^& r '
3;-,MO.‘C
aw
“&88 : -
425
4.60
4.T6'
\*S»
A6O
No. 5
No. bU
No. 6
No. 7
•: aSMtJUngSt
aprUtfUJ
MARUiIi AND DBILIi ;loB
. the turof-sll Yotmrteeir reyhiiA cor*
NO. 22.
. WENTZ. BROS* ,
No. SE&st Kfng'Streefc.