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?OL. LX TIT.
SriEi'. LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER.
LLIfIHXD ITOT TtTBSDAT, AT WO.B WORTH DUXS Kin*,
BY GKO. SANOKRSORi
'TBEMB
Subscmptiow.—Two Dollars per annum, payable la efl*
' jVaoco No subscription dluontlnned aotil all arrears
paid, onto* at the option of the Editor.
■ Asvaan-tfHCHTS.—Advertisements, not exceeding one
-square, (I*4 Hoes.) will be inserted three times for one
- and twdnty-flve cents for each additional inser
tion. Those of greater length in proportion.
‘JOB Peisttwq—Such os Hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets,
r ; Blanks, Labels, Ac., Ac., executed with accuracy and on
' the shortest notice.
“MY MOTHER CALLS ME EDDY.”
BY HENBY C- BLOtTHT.
[Edward F. Wright was a member of Company D,
12th Michigan Regiment. While the sick were be
ing transferred from the steamer D. A. January to
-the Covington Hospital, a poor, emaciated youth
was stretched upon a litter, in the agonies of death.
. Just as he was drawing bis last breath the Surgeon
'bent over him and asked bis name. Summoning all
his strength, the gallant boy whispered, 4, My mother
oalis me Eddy I Oh! my mother, my dear mother!”
These were his last words.]
How many noble hearts must fall,
While war with wrath is raging, <£>
Which, with uplifted, bloody hand,
Destructive Mars is waging?
But love of country oalis them bn,
Th?y rush to heal her bleoling—
Would, rather die than'not to'see
Her, dear to them, succeeding.
Thus Eddy went. The prime of youth
Was ’bout his temples blushing,
And through his patriotic veins °
The love of country gushing;
He wept to leave his dear old home,
His mother ’bout him clinging”
“ Stay, do not go, my Eddy, dear
Deep in bis heart was ringing.
' A father sadly turned away;
; A sister’s arms entwined bim—
• “Oh! brother, stay, why will you go?”
He spoke not. Boon we find him
Where oannon’s bursting, deadly roar
-> . Upon his ear is breaking,
With thunders of the musketry—
The earth beneath him quaking.
The battle done, the victory won,
The wounded scattered lying,
Imploring help, among the heaps
Of those no longer dying ;
And tbence was borne the bleeding form
Of Eddy, deadly wounded,
“Where straogers, yet true friends to him,
His every want responded.
Tbe sinking youth lay on bis couch,
He now has all tbe seeming
- Of one that’s gently gone to sleep,
Or sweetest dreams is dreaming *
How wild delirium turns bis brain,
His surgeon knows bim dying,
And drawing near and bending o’er
The couch wbere he was lying—
He felt the cold sweat on bis hrow,
Bow life tints fast were fading*
The sparkling lustre of his eye ” *
In death, too. fast was shading;
He asked the his name,
Awhile bis gaze was steady.
Then feebly answered, ns he smiled,
“ My mother calls ine Eddy J M
No doubt he thought of days gone by
As he, wh<* now is writing
When mother s band sleeked down his head,
His childish care respiting ;
No d*>uht he long’d to have her there,
To kiss his brow of hurtling.
And do what none hut mothers can,
His every want disoerning.
“Oh! my mother, my dear mother!”
His voice abrupMy endeii^
•On spirit winjrs he gained the rest
For h.ll the hlest intended.
• Oh. what n noble heart was that!
When be could c iU no other,
• He feebly raised bis dyiog breath.
. . And oalled that dear name, mother.
* [Cincinnati Inquirer.
DARN IT.
Breathes there a man with sou! so dead,
If be should tumble out of hed,
Who never to himself has said.
' Darn it.
Or who, when shaving in morning cold,
Hug gashed bis cbio with rnz r old,
Who oould these powerful words withhold,
Darn it.
Or when dancing at a ball,
Tbe boots he wore were mighty small,
Who would not these words ieCfall,
Darn it.
When bowing to some lady gay,
-His suspender buttons both gave way,
Where is the 'man who would not say,
Dam it.
Or when one’s notes or bills fall due,
And banks are hard, and won’t renew,
In these two words there’s comfort true,
Dam it.
Or if a fellow with 16ve is smitten,
And letters to his love has written,
And after all should get the mitten,
Darn it.
To all young ladies we appeal,
If these two words are not genteel,
And if you’ve a hole in your stocking heel,
Dam it.
In short, when things have gone past bearing
All into threads, one’s patience wearing,
These words are better far than sweariDg,
Darn it.
How I was' Cured of Gaming.
A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE.
My friend was a captain of one of the
mail steamers plying between New Orleans
and Mobile. He spent some.days with me
not long since ; and among other adven
tures’ which had befallen him, he related
the following :
I had been engaged on hoard the
steamer something over a year, and was
then serving in the capacity of mate. Dur
.ing the first few months 1 had been rather
shy of New Orleans by gas-light, 1 had
heard so many stories of robberies and
murders, and of strangers being attacked
from mere wantonness, that I preferred to
keep myself--as safe as possible. Some
times I spent the night at the hotel, where
the officers of the varions steamers had
assembled for a sooial time, and sometimes
went to a theatre. At length, however, I
beoame acquainted with the city, and the
• old timidity wore off, and I. finally ac
companied some of my brother officers to
places where the more startling episodes
of real city life ocourred. From the hotel
we went to the theatre, aod from the thea
tre we went to some of the most famous
gambling houses.
Suffer me, my friend, to inform you here
that lam not a gamester. 1 have played
a little, as l shall be obliged to oonfess ;
but the charm was broken, as you shall
hear.
On the third or fourth' visit to the
gambling house, one of my companions
laughingly proposed that we should make
a small venture at the faro table. With a
smile upon my countenance, 1 threw down
a quarter-eagle. The banker asked me if
1 bet upon the queen. 1 was then admon
ished to put iny money fairly upon the
card. I pushed the card further on ; and
the confusion I exhibited must have in
formed the bystanders that I was slightly
verdant touching the rules, regulations
and mysteries of the faro bank. The
banker began to slide off the card, and
presently drew off the piece of gold 1 had
ventured, and threw down a cheque repre
senting five dollars. I had won. I smiled
at my luck, and when the oards were next
shuffled, 1 plaocd my cheque back upon
the queen. I won again, and again I
smiled ; for the thought that 1 was gamb
ling did not enter my mind. It was sport
-r-sport of an exciting kind. I bet upon
the qneen again, and again I won. Before
the next play I calculated a little. It waß
- not likely that the same Card would win
“ again, so I made my venture upon the aoe.
The qneen lost and tbe aoe won. At the
■jiVendpf an hour 1 had won SJS or sBQ,and
than went with my oompanions to the hotel,
s w
where we spent another hoar before repair
ing to onr boats.
After, this 1 frequently acoompaoied my
friends to the gaming houses, and 1 also
made future ventures at the faro bank. A
love of the excitement grew upon me be-'
fore I was aware of it—grew upon me so
strongly that more than once I ventured
alone into a gambling house not far from
onr hotel. One evening four of ns officers
were at the St. Charles, and after supper
the question was started as to bow we
should dispose of the next few hours. Two
were for the theatre and two for the gam
ing house. How should we deoide ? As
neither party was willing to give up, it
was.finally arranged that we should go just
as our inclinations led its. Two went to.
the theatre, and two started for the gaming
house. 1 was one of the latter. My com
panion was a captain of an .up river boat,
and before we set out he informed me that
he must be on board by midnight, as he
was to start early in the morning. This
was all pleasant to me, as I had made up
my mind to be in my state-room before the
hour he had mentioned. So off we went
over towards the third Municipality, nearly
a mile and a half from our hotel, where
we found the gaming house we had planned
to visit. We sat in the bar-room awhile
and smoked a cigar, and then went into
the hall. We lounged about, and observed
the progress of the different games, and
finally stopped at a faro table. I ihade
another venture, whioh was successful. I
made another venture and lost; and
another and won. Then I bought $2O
worth of oheques.
When 1 bought my oheques there were
seven players beside myself at the table.
Two of them were steamboat oaptains, and
four of them were either merchants .or
gentlemen of that stamp. They may have
been gamblers by profession—regular
blaoklegs—but that doesn’t matter. They
appeared to be gentlemen, and certainly
they behaved as such. The seventh man
at the table was a study, and had there not
- been an overbalance of apparent gentility
in the company, I should not have stopped
where he was. He was evidently a boat
man, mid when I heard him speak, I made
up my mind that he was' a Hoosier. He
had come down from Ohio with his flat
boat, and sold his cargo and useless lumber,
and was now on a bit of a * time.’ He was
truly a tough-looking customer. He must
have stood six feet and two or three inches
high, with a frame like an ox. His
shoulders were broad an t heavy, and his
aims long and muscular, and his hands so
Jong and hard that it was difficult for him
to put down his chi qnes. Of his face but
little was*to be seeu, the lower part of it
being covered by a thick, long beard of a
grizz y color, while the upper part was
shaded by the slouching of the broad rim
of an old felt hat. I could see his eyes,
. and they were black ahd keen, enough.
They looked black when in the deepest
shade, but when his head was turned so
that the light fell upon his face, they seem
ed to have a metallio lustre, changing from
steel to brass. Presently those eyes were
turned upon me with a threatening look,
the owner seeming to intimate that I had
stared at him long enough. At any rate,
I took it as a hint, and went on with my
play.
My look was ohangeful. I won, and
then I lost. Then 1 won onee more, and
then 1 lost again. Finally I touched the
knave with a dozen cheques, worth five
dollars each, and won. The Hooßier had
staked twelve oheques on the queen. He
lost, and the hanker pushed the pile on the
queen over to me. I let the twenty-four
oheques remain where they were and the
Hoosier put twenty-four upon the queen.
At this point my oompanion oame and told
me he must be going. 1 was too much
exoited with the play to leave the table
then, and told him not to wait for me.
The queen lost—the knave won—and
again the banker passed to me the oheqnes
which the Hoosier had lost.
Once more my companion asked me if I
would go with him. I told him I could
not—and he went away without me.
Forty-eight oheqnes were upon the knaves,
in four stacks.
‘ Stranger, do yon go them yer—all V
The Hoosier asked me this question, at
the same time pointing to my oheques. I
told him ‘ yes.’ He bought more oheques,-
and plaeed a number equal to mine on the
qneen.
‘ This yer keard must win some time,’
he muttered, as he straightened up his
stack of ivory, and then added, glancing
at’my pile, ‘ an’ that .yer knave’s got to
lose afore he’s much older.’
The dealer began to throw off the oards
again. The knave oaffie first; it had won.
The queen oame next; the banker turned
it upon his left hand—the bank won—the
Hoosier lost. As before, the oheques
which oame from the queen were passed
over to me.
I hesitated, but the spell was upon me,
and I could not break it. I piled ug the
oheques—ninety-six of them—and ven
tured them upon the knave again. The
Hoosier eyed me sharply, aDd then
ventured a like amount upon the queen, at
the same time mutteriog to that
such luok coutdu’t last always. Again the
catds were laid off, and to the astonish
ment of all who were watobing the game,
the kDave and-queen eatue out very near
together—tbe knave to the right the
queen to the left. I had won—the Hoosier
had lost: The banker had now taken in
my smaller cheques, and gave me in' ex
change some worth twenty dollars each.
My last stake had been four hundred and
eighty dollars, and my present pile was
consequently nine hundred and six’y.
‘ Make it a thousand!’ whispered the
Hoosier. . • '
* Done,’ I . replied, and added two
oheques to my accumulated venture.
Again the banket began to throw off his
cards, right and left. The knave oame up
first to the right. I had won, The queen
came up to the left—lost. The Hoosier
drove his hand into his bosom, and brought
forth a pocket-book, from whioh he took a
toll of bank notes. ' ' r
‘ Go yer two thousand !’ he said, in a
hoarse whisper, ‘ I’ve- got that much.’
My first impulse, beforeiie bad spoken,
had been to do that very thing, but now I
hesitated. What had I to do with him ?
I was not playing with him—l was not
betting against him—my play was simply
against the banker, and his was the same.
I told him as much.
. ‘ No, no,’ he ’said eagerly. «It’s agin
luck we re playin’. Them two keards is
in for it. The knave’s yonrn, and the
queen’s mine. Go yer *wo tWnsand> ■ -
All that I had on the table before me,
~_.:~.•n ..~~. .r.
« that oottktrt is th» host nosnsotrs Tram übob oomturoa m omatxst rxward.”—buohahah.
LANCASTER CTTY. PA.,* TUESDAY MOUNTNG. JULY 1. 1862.
save one solitary obequo of twenty dollars,
I bad won ; so I bad little real risk to ran:
‘lt is done;’ I said; .down went two
thousand dollars upon the knave;
The Hoosier placed his venftfre upon the
queen ; there were some cheques and some
bank notes, in all two thousand dollars.
His band qnivered a little as ha pushed
the pile forward, 1 and then be turne’fl to
watoh the movements of the banker.
The cards began to move off once more,
and this time the table was surrounded by
an eager : crowd. There was something
.novel in the spectacle of two men playing
against each other at faro ; and it struck
'me as being exoessively novel, too. But
-it was mo doing of mine. The .Hoosier
seemed to have a superstitious- faith that
our obaDces were running together. How
ever, I meant to make this one venture
farther, and then break the spell, let it be
win or lose. Right and left, right and left.
The qneen came up first—to the left!
Lost! The knave came up—to the right!
I had won again! I gathered up my
gains, and then looked for the Hoosier ,
but he had gone*
‘ Perhaps you’ll try the knave again V
said the banker.
I told him ‘ No, I had played enough.’
I pushed over my oheques, and he gave
me the cash for them—some gold and
some bank notes—to the amount of nearly
six thousand dollars.
I went to the bar and took a glass of
wine, and then started for my boat. The
night was dark, and I had a long distance
to walk. I looked at my watoh as I eame
through the hall, and found it to be half
an hour past midnight. I began to think
I had been a fool. But there I was, and
I mast make the best of my way to the
boat. So I started at a brisk walk, in
tending to strike the Levee near the mint,
and then follow the course of the river. I
had gone half a mile or so, when I heard
heavy footsteps behind me. I increased
my rate of speed, but the following foot
steps still oame nearer. I harried on, but
to no effect—the echo behind me was not
to be outwalked. I felt for my pistol, but
I had none. I had not brought it with me;
I had a dirk-knife, and that was all. By
and-by the step sounded so near that I
turned to see who it was that thus pursued
me. At a distance of only a few yards
eame a tall, gaunt figure, whioh I at once
reoognized by the street lamp. As the
dull glare fell upon the ox-like form, 1
knew it was the Hoosier !
I would have started to run, but it was
too late. He was upon me, aud his hand
was upon my arm. I would have shouted
for help, but he might have killed mo to
stop my noise. 1 would have drawn my
dirk-kuife, but the show of opposition
jnigbt only have called the giant’s strength
down upon me to crush me. My instinct,
told me to be passive and and wait for the
worst. We were in a lonesome spot; with
not a light visible, save the few street
lamps that sent their sickly rays through
the dingy glass; and if the fellow meant
to rob me or kill me, I knew not how to
help myself.
‘ Stranger/ he said, bis voice sounding
frightfully low and hollow, ‘ yoa played
again me to-night.
‘ No,’ I replied, trying to speak plainly
—to speak calmly was out of the question
—‘ I had nothing to do with you. I waß
playing against the bank.’
‘ It’s all the same,’ he continued. ‘Our
luok run together, an’ ’twas you again me,
an’ me again yon. It don’t make no odds
now, I’m dead broke. I ain’t got a single
pie. Hold on! D’ye see this V
He reached his right hand over his
shoulder, and from beneath his coat he
drew forth the largest, longest, brightest
and most savage-looking bowie-knife I had
ever seen. My knees smote together, and
my heart leaped to my throat.
‘ You’ve got money,’ he went on, as he
held the gleaming weapon at hand. ‘ You
won it—won all. I lost—lost all. I’m
dead broke, not a pie. I want enough to
get home; I paid twenty dollars in clear,
yaller gold for this yer toothpick. Give
me fifteen dollars on it an’ I’ll go. Ef
ye’re a man, ye won’t refuse that.’
Mercy 1 What a letting down was that!
Instead of seeking my life, the''poor fellow
had followed me for the purpose of pawn
ing his bowie-knife! He was acquainted
with none of those he had seen at the
gaming house, and he had no friends in
the city, 1 feared him no more. As I
.spoke with him now, I felt that he was a
true-hearted man.
‘lf you get fifteem dollars, you will go
back to the gaming table again,’ 1 said.
His answer was slow bnt snre—■
‘ I’ve tried it twice, stranger: an’ when
I try it again, l’U let ye know.’
I told the man to oome with me.
‘ Come to my boat,’ 1 said, and ‘ yon
shall have the money.’
He said, perhaps I’d let him stay on
board all night.
Of course I would.
As we walked along, I made np my
mind just what I would do; and when we
reached the boat, 1 took him to my state
room, aod handed .him a chair. Said I
‘ My friend, I have made a resolution
ainoe we have been walking together; I
have resolved that I wiil gamble no more.
While you and 1 played at the same table
you Inst $3,900.’
‘ ’Xaotly,’'he replied.
’ Well,’ I continued, ‘ I am going to
make up to you what you lost. I shall
feel better to do so.’
The Hoosier started in amazement.
‘ I do it as much for my sake as for
your own,’ I went on before be oould make
an answer; 3 and if I oan feel assured
that the event has-cured both of us, I
shall consider it one of the most valuable
experiences of my life.’
The plain hearted fellow seized my
hand, and my offer was accepted ; and
when he told me that he would never play
again, i believed him. He took the money,
and all he could do in return was to make
me aceept the bowie-knife, and to promise
me that he should always remember ,me
with the-warmest emotions.
That was several years ago. I -have
-not ventured a dollar at any game of haz
ard siuee, nor do I believe my Hoosier
frieod has done it either. I keep the long,
heavy bowie-knife, and I never Took upon
it but t hink how weak my knees were
when my gaze rested for the first time upon
its gleaming blade. -
03r* Judge Kent says: ‘There- are
very few evils to whioh a man is subject
that he might avoid,pf he would converse
with bis 'wife and" follow her advioe.’—
The Judge is sensible.
alataw
How to Keep Him at Home. 1
. < Qut again torLight!’said Mrs:'Hayes, '
fretfully., as her husband rose from the tea
table; and donned his gi eat eoat.
‘ Yes, I have an engagement with Moore;
shall be in early ; leave a light in the
library. Good night.’ And with a care
less nod, William Hayes left the room.
‘ Always the way,’ murmured Lizzie
Hayes, sinking back upon a sofa ;.out every
night—l don’t believe he cares one bit
about me now, and yet we have been mar
ried but- two years. No man coaid have a
more orderly house, lam sure; and I never
go anywhere; I am not a bit extrava
gant; Oh, dear! why is it * I was not
rich ; .he did not marry me for money, and
he most have loved me then—why does he
how treat me with soph neglect ? And
with her mind filled with such fretful ques
tions, Lizzie Hayes fell asleep on the sofa.
Let me paint her piotnre as she lay there.
She was a blonde, with a small graoefnl
figure and a very pretty faoe. The hair,
whioh showed by itsrioh waves its tendency
to eurl, was brushed smoothly back, and
gathered into a knot at the back. ‘lt was
suoh a bother to onrl it,’ she said. Her
cheek was pale, and her whole face wore a
discontented expression. Her dregs was
a neat chintz wrapper, but she wore neither
oollar nor sleeves. ‘ What’s the use dress
ing up just for William'?’
Lizzie slept soundly for two hoars, and
then awoke suddenly. She Bat up, glaneed
at the olook, and sighed drearily at the
long interval still to be spent alone before
bed-time.
The library was jnst over the room in
whioh she sat, and down the furnace fine,
through the register, a voioe eame to the
young wife’s ears ; it was her husband's.
‘ Well, Moore, what is a man to do ? I
was disappointed, and I mast have pleasure
somewhere. Who could have fancied that
L'zzie Jarvis, so perfectly sprightly'and
loviDg, could obange to the fretful dowdy
she now is? Who wants to stay at home and’
bear his wife whining all the evening about
her troublesome servants, and headaches,
and all sorts of bothers. She has sp got
the knack of drawling, that upon my life I
do not believe she oould speak a pleasant
word.’
Lizzie sat as if stunned. Was this true ?
She looked in the glass. If not exactly a
dowdy, her oostume certainly was not fit
for an evening, at home, with only William
to admire. She rose and softly went to her
own room with bitter and sorrowful
thoughts.and a.firm resolution to win back
her husband,%nd then his love regained,
keep it.
The next morning William eame into
the breakfast room with his usual oareless
manner, but a bright smile came on his lips
as he saw Lizzie. A pretty cbin'z wrapper
with a neat collar, and sleeves of snowy
muslin, and a wreath of soft, full curls,
bad really metamorphosed her; while the
blush his admiring glance brought, up to
her cheek did not detract from her beauty.
At.first William thought there must be a
guest, but glancing, he found they were
alone.
‘ Come William, your coffee will be stone
cold/ said Lizzie, iu a cheery, pleasant
voice.
Not one fretful speech, nor one com
plaint fell upon William’s ear during the
meal. The newspaper, his usual solace at
that hour, lay untouched, as Lizzie chatted
gaily on every pleasant subject she thought
of, warming by his gratified interest and
oordial manner.
‘ You will be home to dinner ? she said
as he went out.;
‘ Can’t to-day, Lizzie ; I have business
out of town ; but I’ll be at home early to
tea. Have something substantial, for I
don’t expect to dine. ‘ Good bye.’ And
the smiling look, warm kiss, and live whis
tle were a marked eontrast to his loungiDg,
careless gait the previous evening.
‘ I gm in the right path,’ said Lizzie, in
a low whisper. ‘ Oh, what a fool 1 have
been for two years ! A fretful dowdy 1
William, yon shall never say that again.’
Tea time came, and William came with
it; a little figure, in a tasty silk dress,
smooth enrls, and oh! snob a lovely blnsh
and smile Btood ready to welcome William
as he came in ; and tea time passed as the
morning meal had done.
After tea there was no movement as us
ual toward the hat raok. William stood
up beside the table, lingering, chatting,
till Lizzie also arose.
‘ What are yon making, Lizzie V
‘ A pair of slippers. Do yotr not re
member how mnoh yon admired the pair I
made for you ever so long ago V _
‘ I remember—blaok velvet, with flow
ers on them. I used to pat my feet on the
fender and dream of blue eyes and light
carls, and wish time would move faster to
the day wbep I could bring home my bon
nie wee wife to make music in my house.’
Lizzie’s faee saddened for a moment as
she thought of the last two years, and bow
little musio she bad made for his loving
heart, gradually weaning it from its alle
giance, and then - said, l l wonder if you
love musio as you did then ?’
‘Of course, I do. 1 have often dropped
in at Mies Smith’s for nothing else than
to hear the musio.’
‘lean pluy and smg better than Miss
Smith,’ said Lizzie, half pouting.
‘ But you always say you are out of
praotice when I ask you.’
‘ 1 had the piano tuned this morning.
Now open it and we will hear its sounds.’
William obeyed her joyfully, and tos
sing aside her sewiDg, Lizzie took the piano
stool. She had a very sweet voioe, not so
powerful, but most musioal, apd she was
a very fait performer on the piano.
‘ Ballads, Lizzie !’
‘Oh yes! I know yon dislike operatic
mn«io in the parlor.’
Tbe little clook strnok eleven.
‘ Eleven !’ I thought it was about nine.
I ought to apologize, Lizzie, as I nsed to
do, for staying so long; and I oan truly
say, as I did theD, that tbe time has
passed so pleasantly I oan scarcely, believe
it is so late.’
The piano was closed, Lizzie’s work
pnt np in the basket and William, was
ready to go np stairs ; but glancing back
ho-saw bis little wife near tbe fire-place,
her hands clasped, her head bent, and
large tears fell from her. eyes. He was
beside her in an instant.
‘ Lizzie, darling, are yon ill t What is
the matter?’ , .
‘Oh, William! I have been snoh a
bad wife ! 1 heard yon tell Mr. Moore,
last evening, how I had disappointed yon ;
bnt l will try to home pleaant,-
indeed 1 will, if yon Will forgive"and love
BtO,’
„ . . ? - y~
•. f y.
‘Love you!. Ob, Lizzie, you cannot
guess bow deeply 1 love you.’
As the little wife-lay down thatoight,
she said, ‘ I have won him baok again!
Better than that, 1 have learned to keep
him!’
Social Life a Few Centuries Ago.
How our Anglp-Saxon and Norman an
cestors in the Middle Ages ate and drank,
married and were given in marriage, and
conducted the various other formularies of
life, is agreeably told in a publication from
wbioh the British Quarterly Review draws
an article, which we in turn fit to our use
with pen and scissors :
HOW YE ANGLO-SAXONS PLAYED AT GAMES.
The Anglo- Saxons were inveterate gam
blers—a passion they inherited from their
German ancestors—Chess was universal.
amoDgst them. It was always played for
money, or money’s worth ; and, being an
irasoible people, they frequently lost their
temper'when they lost their bets, and
brought the eontest to a close by flinging
the board at each other’s head. Dice was
oommon to all classes. Tables, in several
forms, was one of the popular games, de
rived originally, in all likelihood, from
the Romans, and identical in prinoiple
with baok-gamWn, the tiok-taok of the
English, and the trio.trao of the Frenoh.
To the middle ages belong numerous
games which, still supply recreation to
many an English' oirole. The shovel-board
of the Elizabethan oyole has its represen
tative in its more complete and ingenious
successor, billiards. Dames, or ladies,
familiar to the age of ohivalry, come down
to us in the shape of draughts. Several
of the round games, and in-door pastimes
that flourished some hundreds of years ago,
are favorite resources to the oountry
houses—such, for example, as blindman’s
bluff, hot cockles,- and frog-in-the-middle.
The list might be indefinitely enlarged.
Questions and commands, I am a Spanish
merchant, a round game said to have been
invented by Queen Elizabeth, drawing
characters and endless varieties of .forfeits,
are amongst the trivial entertainments in
which the modern drawing-room takes
almost as much delight as the mediaeval
hall.
HOW THEY WITH EASE MARRIED AND UN
MARRIED TREMSELVES.
The marriage laws aDd usages of the
Anglo-Saxons were so brittle that they
afforded no seourity to either party before
the introduction of Christianity ; and it
may be added that they retained much of
their licentiousness for a long' time after
wards. The marriage ceremony, so far as
there was one, might be described as an
ordinary agreement entered into between
the high contracting lover on the ope hand,
and the friends of the lady on the other.
The only stipulations or conditions connec
ted with it had any binding force,
related to such chatties, money or othdr
property as might be involved ini the ar
rangement. The business part being
disposed of, then followed the feasting
common on Buch oooasions to most barbar
ous communities, and not uncommon in
more highly refined stages of society ; and
the wedding pair went off upon their
tour, to be royally fleeced by innkeepers
and lodging-house cormorants, and to
flaunt t>eir happiness in the face of the
public, by open entertainments wherever'
they went. The union which was thns
completed implied none of the obligations
exacted by Christianity. The gentleman
was not required to cherish aDd proteot the
lady, nor the lady to love, honor and obey
the gentleman. It was a union for mutual
eonvenienoe and satisfaction ; sometimes
inspired by a romantio passion, and some
times with so little mutual knowledge
beforehand, that, so far as happiness was
concerned, it was a leap in the dark. The
result, one way or other, was a matter of
blind chance ; and the institution was logi
cally adapted to meet any exigenoy that
might arise out of so precarious a state of
things. Where there were no duties, thdre
could be no responsibility; and it was con
sistent with the nature of the engagement
that the marriage which hung so loosely
might be easily thrown off. Both parties
were at liberty to follow the bent of their
own inclinations, and if they disagreed,
theywere free to separate,the lady’s friends
interfering, as before," merely to look
after the settlements.
HOW THE NORMANS SAT AT MEALS.
Forks had not yet come into use and no
body having hit upon the expedient of
ohopsticks, meat was conveyed to the
mouth by the fingprs. This was unavoid
able ; and in order to make 'sure, as far as
might be, of the oleanliness of the hand
engaged in this delicate office, it was one
of the maxims of good breeding that the
same hand should never perform the func
tion whioh is now consigned to the pocket
handkerchief—an artiole unknown in those
times. The fact of laying an interdict on
the one hand implies, of oourse, the em
ployment of the other. The American
custom of expectoration prevailed so ex
tensively amongst the Normans, that it was
necessary to protect the board at which
they sat from pollution by stringent reg
ulations. Fortunately, in most oases, the
floor whioh received the contents of water
basins, the dregs of wine-glasses, and
other refuse, was slightly protected
by a layer of rushes. The benches arid
seats, however, were exposed to all passing
chances ; and in an old French metrical
code of politeness, quoted by Mr. Wright,
people are prudently advised to examine
the seats before they sit down upon them.
Some of the minor directions testify at
once to the raw state of manners, and to
the dawn of coming improvements. For
example, you were forbidden to pick your
teeth with your knife, or to offer the
remains of your dish to another person, or
to dtp your meat in the salt-cellar, or
to return food from your mouth to your
plate; and 'symptoms of the more arti
ficial modes, that not long afterwards came
into vogue, may be detected in a oode cf
instructions which warns you against the
vu'garity of eating much cheese, or taking
more than two or three nuts at a time on
your plate, or betraying fidgetiness at din
-1 ner, by such boorish tricks as playing with
your knife, or twisting your napkin into
i knots, and which, above all things, admon-
I isbes you against getting intoxicated
i before dinner is over. _ .
OGP" A speaker in a meeting, enlarging
npon the raioality of the devil,.got off the
following, fithy words, j _*■ When liWas; aboat
getting religion, the devil tiled, to dissuade
me from itj and told .me if l did .get.reli
gion 1' oouldnot go into gaycompany, and
lie,or sterf, orjany suah things, 6«/ l Aone
found tymwd token grtat liar -i-
«k'-®Oa :SU3.«W*S-‘ , 4*i
Skfil
3 - <--v
-fLVjSMU £O% *
AStrikingllhistration.
: Many yeareagban ‘ assault and battery’
osme up before a magistrate in western
Ohio, in which a lawyer named ' BUia. was
the defendant's counsellor, and Elder Gily
rutb, a Methodist preaohor, was the plain
tiff’s most important witness, having. by
chance been passing when the fray ocoured.
Ellis fostered a spirit of revenge - towards
the preacher because he once called publio
attention towards him at a oamp meeting,
were be had been guilty of disorderly con
duct, and was determined upon this occa
sion to gratify that spirit by-showing- up
the divine in fantastical colors. The court
was crowded, and the revengeful pettifog:
ger was gloating in inward rapture over
the fine opportunity whioh was about to
present itself for repaying the preioher in
his own currency. Elder GKlruth was a
man of athletio proportions, with the sin
ews of a yeoman and the stateliness and
.dignity of a field officer, and as he took
his place upon the witness stand all eyes
were turned upon him. In his simple,
unostentatious manner he related the cir
cumstances of the affair, as they occurred.
Now oame the counsel’s privilege of cross
questioning.
< Did I understand you to say, Mr. G-il
ruth that you saw the defendant strike
the plaintiff?’
‘ I do not know what you have under
stood,’ replied the witness, ‘ but if my
eyes serve me properly, I certainly did
witness a manoeuvre that would warrant
that description.’
‘ Ah, you saw him strike, then; will
you please inform the Court how hard a
blow was iofltoted V
‘ As nearly as I oan remember,’ replied
the witness, ‘ the blow was suffioient to
knook the plaintiff down.’
< That is not an explicit answer,’ said the
counsel, somewhat nonplussed by the
preaoher’s ooolness. ‘ I wish you to ex
plain to the court how hard a blow was
inflicted by the defendant upon the person
of the plaintiff, as set forth in the indict
ment.’
‘ Shall I answer the gentleman’s ques
tion V said Utlruth, turning to the magis-
‘ As you please, ’ returned the justice.
‘ You wish me to give you a satisfactory
demonstration of the velooity of the blow
which brought the plaintiff to the ground V
‘ I do, ’ said Ellis.
‘Well thenj’ continued Gilrntb, ad
vancing. .a.few-steps-towards the counsel,
‘ as nearly as my judgment serves me, the
blow was ahout equal to that!’
At the same instant planting his enor
mous handful. of bones direotly between
the lawyer’s eyes, smashing his spectacles
and prostrating the unlucky ‘ limb of law ’
upon the floor. A simultaneous roar of
applause burst from the delighted audience
as the crest fallen attorney commenced
gathering himself up from his fallen dig
nity, while brother'll., as coolly as if noth
ing had occurred, regaiued his former
position on the stand, and remained wait
ing for .further interrogatories. It is not
necessary to add that the witness was dis
missed without further examination, and
that his exclusive testimony convioted the
defendant!
Poor Ellis vowed ample vengeance, but
the writer is not aware that he ever oh*}
tained it. .
Happiness Attainable by All.
Valter, my boy, the old chap who made
adages said, that a contented mind was a
oontinual feast. He was a very good
adage maker, my boy, bnt his style was
much as wonld be that of a man who might
give yon a safe fall of money and not tell
bow to unlock it, or as old Paddletrap
said when his wife ran away —‘ good as
far as she goes.’ The chief end of man, in |
one sense is the head—in the other happi
ness. Bat very few men are happy, my boy.
That is, they are not happy to-day, bnt
expect the full measure of bliss to-morrow.
To-morrow is a great day, Valter. One to
morrow has more of fear, or more of hap
piness than all the to-days ever almanao’d.
We all look for happiness—not in the
present bat in the future-—and my boy,
we are all wrong. Happiness makes us
enjoy life. We can all be happy if we will.
Care is the huge grindstone which wears
ns away. The knife does not wear by nse
—it is by grinding. Throw care and fret
ting to the dogs.. Now is the time to be
happy. Wbat is the nse of waiting till
another day has broke ? •
‘ How oan we help waiting V
Easy enough, my boy. Keep the heart
right. That is the first point. If you see
a man in trouble, help him ont if yon ean.
If not, don’t get him in deeper. If yon are
do a mean act, stop and think
how it will belittle yon. If yon see trouble,
alleviate it.. If you see a man in danger,
tell him of it. Plant good seed—reap
good crops. Be kind to others. Follow
toe ■golden rifle so far as practicable, then
quit it. Make up yonr mind to be happy
—the rest is easy enough. We have but
very little real trouble. Most of it is im
aginary. We become nervous and fretful,
and weeds of care overrun the entire heart,
when they should not. <
Now is the time to be happy. Think of
the blessings ; not of the curses. Look on
your successes, not failures. Thousands
fail—any one can do that, but to succeed
requires a man of pluck, muscle and am
bition. So long as we have health we
should be happy. And if siok we might
be worse my boy. If we have but a dol
lar—we might have - none. .If but one
suit of clothes—we might be a hundred
per cent, worse off. If an eye has been
lost by acoident, remember that the bead
might have gone, for all you could do. If
in battle, and a cannon ball just misses
your head, think how lucky you were short.
If it passes between yonr legs—why it’s a
good thing to be tall! If it goes through
your heart, a lingering sickness and sor
rowful death bed scene have been escaped.
If you have one friend left, that is better
than to have none —if you have none, you
will.not be betrayed, or you oan .make
friends. There is no man ao mean but
some one will love him. Be happy in
thinking of what you have —not in what
you want.' Let envy go to the wind.
Think how much better off you are than
a score who started in life with ydu. Think
how much betiei off thin ytm -might he,
and Valter, my boy, we' dannot see how*
you oan help being happy. 'Don’t let
trifles.worry you. Keep' a stiff upper lip,
and a close lower one. The lower lip is
the one. you should guard—4t dees the j
talking,
, It is easy to be happy if you wish to .he*
my .bojr,:, Gold , hpr^—j
'■*' ..-rXI '.-’l •^ r \
> 'a? J t
iron fences—monthly rows—Brusaele ear
pet—rose - wood 'Adoontr-mlrSfeL top
bureaus—fifteen story houses—niggers at
the gate toehold your horse—-silver napkin.
rings— shoes—poodle . dogs—
wine and suah .
gee-gaws have are not
essential to happiness ahy'mojgft than posses
sing another man’s wifeiorhiQnoy is essen
tial to happiness.' If yon 'sSe" single, my
boy, you oan IKhappy in seeking' some
one to love. Bafc'don’fc-be in - too great
baste to better your ehn^ition,/.-6i|>Blpir..
Yon. will more of tra^noantjcy—may
like it better. A well trwl^i-mittd —a
kind heart, will makeevery'oiipUjppy. If
yon have not these things,
Make a little Heavan in-yoMhtot aai ; see
how nice it. No .....
say of yon. 'lf ;they flatter|ftiJy .*nS home
up to their mark ot aduliktion. tf\ they
oondemn, give them no.more .reason—if
they censure it is a blessed
thing to know aomebodybesidesybu are
being fooled. Look around,, my boy,:*nd
see if there is not some little-. Spot where
yon oan plant a kind word'.' It will bring
a rich crop. See if there is riot soma.bNen
passing whioh will waft a kiss to nne yon ,
love. See if there is ■ not a pluso vaoant
where yon can hide a goqd actioo. i See if
you oaonot, by wordrlookordeed,-brighten
the heart of some one worse off than your
self. Do these and be happy. And all
oan do these little.thfngs.--Wo.are made in
the image of Q-od, and surely, when r ho has
plaoed happiness here on earth, we-ought
to help ourselves. : Don’t bother yoftrielf to
look’at the dark side of pictures.- 'Tf there
is no bright side, to any of them, paint ohe,
eveu if with a whitewash brushy--Make
up your mind to bo happy at all.events—
to take trouble as it'eomes, and part with
it as it goes, and yon will befatand hearty,
twenty-five years after your gouty neigh
bor has put on his wooden overcoat.
03r* A pious minister, after leotnring a
Sunday class in the most edifying man nor,
proposed to close the exercise by singing
‘ Jordan,’ meaning the hymn, ‘ On Jordan’s
stormy banks L stand.’ The worthy mitt
was horrified by hearing the school striae
up < Jordan,’ am a hard road to.travel !
believe.’
riIHE LAKOASTEa iSTBLIiIOCSOBB
I JOB PRINTING ESTA BLIBUMBNT,
No. 8 NORTH DUKE BTRKKT, LANCABTER,-PA.
TJho Jobbing Department la thomngbly fomlshod’with
elegant typo of every description* and la nnder
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, ’ - A ;*-•
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN'PRINTING,
with neatoeas. accuracy and dlspatch.op themostreasona*
ble terms, ana la a manner hot excelled by any establish*
ment In the city..
Orders from a distance, by moll or otherwise,
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON * : 80N,
Intelligencer Office,
No. 8 North Dnke street,. Lancaster, Pa,
1862. APRIL.
ARRIVAL. OP
SPLENDID NEW. SPRING,GOODS
V* ENT Z BE 08
1 Lot of FOULARD SILKS, only e«nta. .
1 Lot Spring Oballle DELACNH4, “2&C-. worth 20o»
1 L>tßrocba VALENCIA*. Boqua.iS. 81, W}so.
1 Lot Soper Boqna OHALLIBS, only..v6c.
SHEPHERDS’ and good»2s«*
, CALICOES, selling ••. .
[iX/hot Extra Goo't CALICOES, only tOe.
v |I Lot excellent B-mnet and Apron-Gioghsms, 12*^0.
SHAWL AND CLOAK ROOM.
New Stock
PRJNG SHAWLS AND CLOAKS.
BEAtrtirtJL SnixA. Shawls.
Every day brlngs aomethiDg new”
CHOICE BARGAINB OF THE DAY,
Opened (Ullyat .
, WENTZ BROSn I
0 No. 6 East King Street.
DRESSLER’S
BAIJ3 J&H&ZBF 3TOSA
No. 206 North Bth Stsnf abovskaci,
PHILADELPHIA, .
On hand and for sale, a choice assortment otmpsrior
patterns, and will plait to order • . >
BRACELETS, ;
EAR BINGS,
FINGER RINGS, . . ...
BREAST PINS,
CROSSES,
NECKLACES, '
' GUARD’AND
VEST CHAINS.
49» Orders eooloßinttbe hair to be plaitedfmay be aent
by mail. Give a drawing&rnaair aa yoiz.ean obTpaper, and
enclose such amount as you; maycbooeetopa;. :! ::
Costs as follows: Ear Riogs $2 to J*ins $3 to
(7—Finger Rings 76 cents to to s 7—
Necklacess2 to $lO. •,v
Hair pat into Medalions, Box Breast Pins,.R!ngs. Ac.
OLD GOLD AND SILVER BOUGHT AT TAIB RATES.
apr 16 - , .■ , '• ■ , /"• If 14.
New springs t v l: »» •
Tbe undersigned calls special attention to a new and
well selected stock of
M 1L L I NE BY O 00 DB\
of the latest styles, eooßiaiiog of colored and.wblte Straw
Goods of ait kinds and prices, bodpet frames'to' fit every
body, French and American Flowers in great'Yaiiety«vrlb>
bona, quillings, laces, edgings, jolnbland. gimp.snd hair
lace, and a great variety of Bonnet Trimming*, lilik, satin*
crape and different kinds of bonnet materials,.
TRIMMED, STRAW * FANCY IfcJ -
L&.L] a large assortment to suit every ture r tape*: Qa
tfy* nett, crown lining, : wire; and a.greatmany
amctea unnecessary, to mention!: all-of whkb< I wtU'sell
cheaper than the cheapest, either wholesale or retail.
Also, a fine assortment of JEWELRY and-DHFGOODS,
on hand, and various Notions," all of which , will, be sold
very cheap. - :.v ,n :*•
Call and examine my stock beforoporcbaslog elsewhere.
Tbankfal tor past favors.’ thesubscnberbopeeto'bave the
patronage of his old coslbmers. and many.; new onee.
- -L. BAUM, -
No. 31 North^tteenßt.
apr l 3m 12]
1862. • 1862. .. • 1862,'
OPENING OF NEW SPRING GOODS*
JUST RECEIVED,direct iromNew York.and, PMUdel*
ohia,« choice lot cl ' " •
NKW SPRING DREBB. G00D8.:
Shepherd's Plaids of every >ari«*t».; Aiao, a large lot of
new caiNTZBSi--• '
Porchßsed at low prices fur eaeh* whioh wegaarantee to
sell at priees that will' ;
DBSY COMPETITION. *' r - . ?
BKfet'ENGLISH
BR3THEHBmACC[HNTZB3......;;.^..;«„^,„.V2Uc#Dts..
USBP AIIKUIOAN CQ{NTZBd cents.
BEST CoCUECO cniNTZEi- ..................V..«i2Uoint«.
BB>T PACIFIC CHINTZES.....: eents.
BEST SPRAGUE CHINTZES cent*.
BK&T MOCKNING CHINTZES ~12)4 cents.
also, . V . . V
targe lot of good, heavy DomesticGINGHAMS," 12J4 «t*4
Good Apron aod?:Cht'pks, 3*ZJf.jce»'ta;,Good
Bleached and Unblescbed MUBUNS, one yard wider 12#
cents; Cotton Flannel*. 12#cerof*; : >i-- r . -•••«:
NOW 13 THE TIME TO BUY. :
A fall line of BLACK SILKS, ebeawvNeir Style* of
SPRING ..DtttfSß. GOODS.
Of every firfety aad quality,' *
.OPENING.DAILY. • v ..
.marlS tf 10]
piNE WATCHES! RICH JEWSLKTI
SI t-V E R WAR SI aILTRR WAMTSh
PIE, CAKE AND BDTTBH KNIVES, i --.V? ■£'. ij
bUKAR, CREAM AND U7STER SPOONS.
BODP ANROVSTira LADLES,
Latest Stm« a*j> Wo«Emii»Hi*„,
SILVER-PLAT ED •
BASKS IS. OA3TORB, PITCHERS, MOOB
sPOONif^VOKKS;'W, "Adi 1
J 0 BT, r 8.0 K f H C A C To*-l* 5, .V .. .
WATouiai w'atckbbm w : *rohbbiii
\ 'i .
-iPffcSM -
«„'• -*>«-«? jarTft- »■
. WENTZ BROBn
No.~A Sart'KiOgltfreet.