.£Bi?<4sf? Tsat-jpvs.: i ; ; ?n .. -V.. ,a-,> . «ai2J«AAft3SfI .SM-’o* anw.vVij.' ' '~ 7 r ~-- YQE. LXTTI. rHEI’ INTELMGENCER. SUBH» jvKRI TOiroAf, AT SO. 8 WORTH’DT7XBSTBKT, 3T GEO. BAIfDERSOir. ' 'TERMS. SußBCHH>7ior: —Two Dollars per' annum, payable in ad* vante- '■ No subscription discontinued until -all. arrear agesare paid, unless at the. option of the £ditor, - ADVXRnsxmifTS^—Ad?ertisemeat«, -' not exceeding one' square, [l2 lines,) will be. inserted three, times for one dollar cents for 'each additional’ ihfler- Th’oto of greater length in proportion.' Job PwHTbfO~Snch as Hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlet?, Blanks, Labels, Ac., executed with accuracy and'on the shortest notice.' " SLEEPING AND WATCHING. BT MRS. BROWSING. Bleep on baby, on the floor, - Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That yon dropped away in; On yonr onrlS* fall roundness stand ■ Qotden lights serenely, One cheek, pushed out by the hand, “PoJdS the dimple wily. 1 Little head and little foot Heavily laid for pleasure, Underneath the lids half shut, Slants the shining azure. Open*soul in noonday bun, 86, you lie and slumber! Nothing eyiThbving done, . Nothing can encumber. I, who cannot sleep as well, • Shall X sigh to view you? Or sigh further to foretoll 1 ’ - AH that may undo you ? Nay, keep smUing, little child, -Ere the sorrow beareth, I will smile too ! patienoe mild Pleasure’s token weareth. Nay, keep sleeping before loss, i 1 shall sleep, though losing ! As by cradle, so by cross, Sure is the reposing. HI. And God knows who sees us twain, Child at childish leisure, X am near as tired of pain As you seem of pleasure. Very soon too by his grace Gently wrapt around me, Shall X show as calm a face, Shall X sleep as soundly. Differing in this, that you Clasp your playthings, sleeping, While my hand shall drop the few Given to my keeping. Differing in this, that 1 Sleeping shall be colder, And in waking presently . Brighter to beholder. Differing in this beside, (Sleeper have you heard me ? Do you move and open wide Eyes of wonder toward me?) That while you thus recall From your sleep, I solely, Me from mine an angel shall, With reville holy. DE UNITED STATES HOTEL, BY ONE OF DE BOARDAHS l’s took rooms fir de season—l’s cuttin’ quite a swoll — I’s stoppin’ at a tavern—de United States Hotel. Old Uncle Sah’s de landlord—we eat and drink our’fill—• And de wisdom ob de measure is, dar’s nuffin for de bill! Ob, HiO.Dinkum Darkey: De white trash can’t afford To take rooms at de tavern Where de cullud gentry board. De ’possum it was lubly—but we’ve better grub dan dat; ° De hoe-cake it was ’nificent, de raccoon sweet and fat — But ’possum, ’coon and hoe-cake!—l hid you all farewell! J You wouldn’t suit de ’siety at Uncle Sam’s Hotel. Oh, Hi 0 Dinkum Darkey ! Oh don’t you bear de bell? It’s ringin’ for de boardahs At Uncle Sam’s Hotel. And don’t yon know do boaidahs—do ’complished Dinah Crow— Be schrashiatin 5 Pompey, and de gallant Mis'tah • bnow— And aU ob de “born equals/' no matter where dev dwell, : Are goin' to be boardahs at Uncle Sam’s Hotel. Oh, Hi 0 Binkum Barkey! Oh berry sure I am, Be best of all de taverns Is kept by Uncle Sam. Be schrashiatin’ Pompey, when he sits down to dine, Just hear him call de waitah, to fotch alone de r wine— And see de little white boys a-helpin’ Mistah Snow, And bringin' ohicken fizens to de lubly Dinah Crow 1 Oh, Hi 0 Binkum Darkey! I’s outtin’ quite a swell, I’s took rooms at a tavern — De United States Hotel. It’s'a mighty big old tavern, da't United States Ho tel! It has sixty thousand boardahs, and it ’oommodates ’em well; It has room for all of Dixie, an’ I ’spect dey’ll all be here, ' J Wid dar wives and pickaninnies, ’fore de endin’ ob de year. Oh, Hi 0 Binkum Barkey! ' .We hab no bills to pay, Bey oharge ’em to de white .trash, I hear de landlord say. Oh, take do mattock, white man—de ahubbel and de spade— We boardabs hal> no work to do, we all hab auit de trade! u But ’fore'you pay de board bills you’ll hab to tue ' : and Bweat, 6 And wish you wasn't white trash a thousand times I’ll bet! 0, Hi 0 Dinkum Barkey, Oh, don’t you hear de bell? It’s ringin’ for de boardahs At Unole Sam’s Hotel! f Logan {Ohio) Gazette. A LITTLE WITCH. How much we lose by not making the acquaintance of our cousins, the brutes ! Isay we, courteously, for 1 am not included in the class of persons who are contuma oions to dogs, horses, and other quad rupedal inhabitants of our planet; The fact is, lam more interested in a beaver than a beau, and a chained bear, who travels all®his waking hours in a oirole„ and always turps a summersault at a par ticular, point, is much more interesting to me than a fashionable young fellow doing very mnoh the same thing. I was always very odd, and I cannot tell whether I first liked William Gumming for his horse Selim, or for himself. Selim was a won aerful fellow ? and had cost a fabulous price, though he had a bad name. No one bad ever ridden him but William Camming, and_yet the first five minutes of our ac quaintance made us friends. Selim arched his proud neck to kiss me; and I patted his glossy coat, and smoothed his mane, and put my side saddle on him with my own hands. J ‘You must not ride him,’ said William. ‘ What would be my portion, if any aoci dent should befall you in your mother’s absence ? If she were here to give her consent—’ ‘Nonsense!’ I cried; ‘my mother!is nsed to my ways, and she is not a coward. Selim and I are friends, you can see.’ . ‘ " ut he will try to be master, and your hands are not iron, my little friend.’ ‘ Never you fear,’ said I, ‘ I w iu turn him-three ways at once; if ho insists on runmng away. Skill is botter .than hard workip most affairs, : and especially in managing a horse.’ ‘.Who taught you skill in managing a horse V said he. 7 ■ • ' 6 . >,Cqmmon sense,’: I replied. ‘ Now, do let me goj ■ ’ -. ; .’.7.-; • ‘ Common sense, at thirteen !’ said Wil -I^l*«?hing:;i and, he took off the side saddle;‘and replaced. it with his own, and . / V room and oried. bitterly. 21J” 8 and balnea don’t weopr-rthey ry 1r— When my nyes-were red, and my curls in I looKed in the, glass* ■ I/wes •at V'.Nying.age ;:my.collar hope was prom ment,nnd shadows, and my arms were shin and hones, A weaver "would have said I was ‘all warp, and no filling.’ William Cum mipgwas thirty years; old, and had a farm adjoining my father’s. He was a scholar hnd a gentleman, and cultivated his own land, and had the handsomest horses in 'the conn try. I had a great respect for him, though I am afraid he was indebted to hip fonr : footed friend fora portion of it. I'' J I have said I was odd. My sense had a sort of preternatural acuteness that 'seemed miraculous to others, and 1 am not quite sure bat that 1 had a sense more than belonged to my acquaintance. William Cumming used to call me ‘a little witob,’ because 1 could tell what, he was quite sure I knew nothing about, and could not find out by any natural means—but he meant usual, I think, when he said natural. My ways of acquiring information were very simple, and natural to me; still, as I had established a character for extraor dinary ‘ knowingness,’ I got credit when,! did not deserve it. For instance, when I said to my little brother : ‘ How came you to go into the china closet, and take mamma’s oranges V he answered, redolent of the perfumed fruit, ‘O sister, how could you see me through the door, when it was looked V and he went away convinced that I was something very much like a witch. Older persons, in a similar manner, cheated themselves into the belief that my gifts were muoh more wonderful than their’s were. • ‘Are you quite sure that you are not a little witoh ?’ said William Cumming.— ‘Selim kissed you and laid his noße on your shoulder, the first five minutes of your acquaintance.’. 1 answered him with some impatienoe : ‘ I wish people had as much sense as horses. They know who mean well by them, while people are always suspecting one. They suspeot poor me of witohery or the black ait. Even you, Uncle Wil liam, are afraid 1 will cheat you.’ I was grieved, perhaps a little angry, that I had not been trusted to ride Selim; and now William had returned, I wished to punish him. "But he took no notice of my ill-humor, and said very pleasantly : ‘ Tell me, by your black art, where I have been the last half hour.’ He was standing by the door, and I was at the opposite sjde of the room, but I was in the draught of air, and I answered: ‘ You have been whisking the flies off Selim with a bunch of pennyroyal, and you have been over the bank where the wild thyme grows, and you .have been among the wild roses on G-inger Hill. I know all this, though I have been here the whole time.’ He walked over to where I was stand ing, and said : 1 How do you know all this V As he came beside me, I said : ‘ And you saw Mary Stacy, and shook hands with her ; and you have something in your pocket from Luke Staoy.’ ‘ How do you know all this!’ said he, wonder-struck, as he had been half-a-dozen times before. ‘No spy-glass could tell you this, for Mary was at home in her father’s house beyond the hill ; and the thyme bank is beyond that, and hidden from everybody ; and the roses and penny royal are beyond the hill;. and the whole is three miles from here. You could not have followed me, unless you had been on the back of another Selim; and, besides, you say that you have been here all the time. How do you know that I have something in my pocket from Stacy ; and what is it V ( It is a letter,* said I, < that he has brought you from some one. 5 ‘ Even so. What you say is all true; but how do you know it V 1 Simply, and only/ I replied, < because I have a nose. When you came I smelt Selim and the penny-royal. The mingled odors told me that you had been brushing the flies .off the horse with some sprigs of the herb. The next odor I smelt was the thyme, and then the wild roses. When you came to this side of the room, I smelt the verbena—the only perfume Mary Stacy uses. When you came a little nearer, I smelt Turkish tobacco and the sizing of paper, and then I was sure jou had some paper.from Luke Stacy, and the most probable idea was, that it was a let ter. Why, I can smell Luke at the lower end of our lane, when I stand in the door. Now you can see that I have fairly ac counted for every thing.’ ‘ Except for the fact that you are all nose,’ said William. e You are a cross between a vulture and a dove. But I must attend to Selim. I dare say he thinks he is hungry. 5 He went out to see the horse, but he was gone. He looked all around, but he did not And him. * -Hs * s stolen, 5 said William, much alarmed. <1 saw an ill-looking fellow watching me as I rode home. -The gate is shut, and there is no way for him to disappear, unless some one has taken him. 5 ‘ Tlie gate is shut, 5 said I, ‘ but it is not fastened. 5 gate was fastened by a pin, which was "put in a hole bored in the gate post. When this pin was taken out the gate swung open, and if the wind were right, it might be closed again. I examined the pin ; Selim’s breath was warm on it. This was perfectly perceptible to me, but not to William. c Selim don’t know enough to take out that pin and then replace it, 5 said he. ‘ He tas more sense than a great many men, I said, as I passed into the orchard, when the crushed clover blossoms gave me notice that the horse had passed but a few minutes previous. ‘ If.l find him over the hill, may I ride him, Unole William ?’ ‘ You will not .find him,’ he answered. 1 ran to the top of the hill. On the other side, Selim was trying to eat .with his bit between his teeth. I went to him and tried to unbuokle the bridle.on the wrong aide. He quietly turned the other side of. •his head to. my awkward hands; putting the right buckle pertinaciously before me, till 1 unfastened it. William.Cumming caine along, greatly pleased, but said! that Selim should do the gate-triok again, that be might see him. So he led him back, and left .him 7o himself in the yard .again. Ho drew-ont the gate-pin with his teeth, and when -the gate was swung, open,- his puttke ptn sgainin the hole,* and went his way again to feast, upon the sweet grass. ‘ Le ?l°. Mb?tome,’ said I; ‘I will take care of hin>,* - ~. ‘ U r WaS gpne ’ » nd Selim was •ks gras. * oalledshim hy' ft bit master -fised.-' «h» trotted Tip w ine,- an d lahThiO-nose upon “THAT OOUNTST IB THH MOOT PBOHPBtbiTB 'WHHBI liABOKOOMMAHDB'THE flMASTMT'irwwawn»aiinnnrii»i» LANCASTER CITY, RTUESDAY MORNING. JULY 15. 1852 my shoulder. I led him to thbdbor, and saddled him with my ownside-saddle, and then, with very little-preparation, I started for a contraband ride.... Selim 'cantered away seemingly proud of bis burden,' and I was rooked in the' bridle of an ecstatic delight. There is, iti ray opinion, no ter restrial ecstacy .to be compared with a center, provided your horse be of the right kind, and the atmosphere and scenery equally desirable.'. For myself, I want no better company than my horse',. Ido not want to put my foot into the hand of any cavalier; but I want to spring into ;my serial cradle, and skim over hill and dale, like a creature with wings. Once only Selim tried my mettle ; bnt when he found that I understood bin-game, and swayed him first to one side, an'd then, to the other, and finally turned him com pletely around, he made up his mind to go swiftly forward, and give me no more trou ble. I patted his neck to’ let him know that I appreciated his good manuers; and after a canter‘of ten minutes, I turned him homeward. On the way, I saw the satce ill-looking fellow watching the horse that William had observed. Wocompared descriptions, and found that he was the same person. Wil liam was delighted to know that I had rid den Selim without accident, or ill behavior on the part of the horse; His partiality for tho orchard caused him to be left there in the clover, and the next day he was stolen. The hill separated him from our. sight, and a breach was made in the fence, and he was taken away about mid-day. My father had been to the village, three miles distant, and was returning. Just as he left the village, he oame to a pieoo of woody ground. Recent rains had. filled puddles into the road that were miniature ponds. As he entered the woods, he saw Selim approaohing, hacked by a strange rider, even the ill-looking fellow, who had just succeeded in stealing him. In the middle of one of the largest pools of water, Selim very deliberately lay down, and rolled, so as to detach his rider; he then rose suddenly, and galloped away at the top of his speed. The fellow got up. He was ‘ the knight of the rueful countenance’ and rueful coat, and all other habiliments, when my father met him. ‘My horse has thrown me,’ said he, using some adjectives to. Selim’s discredit. ‘ Where did you get the horse T said my father. ‘ I bought him on a farm about three miles from here.’ ‘ How much did you give V asked my father. ‘ Twenty-five pounds; and I’ll have back my money ; I will never keep such a brute.’ William Gumming had paid one hundred and twenty-five, and he valued the horse at double that sum. ‘ That story can’t impose upon me,’ said my father. ‘ Only two persons were ever on that horse’s back before ; and when you steal another horse, you will do well to find out beforehand whether you can ride him. It is not nioe to be spilt In a mud puddle ; but you may congratulate yourself that you deserve it.’ He drove on, leaving the crest-fallen villain dripping with dirty water. Not long after we heard of the arrest and conviotion of a horse-thief, and, on inquiry, we learned that he was the same person who had been treated so uncere moniously to a mud-bath by Selim. He was sentenced to the State prison for four years. During this time I felt very seoure about Selim ; and William used to tell me that 1 thought there was only one rascal in the world. The days flew by, for my youth was happy. Hour years fled, and I .was in my eighteenth year. William Cam ming had been my instructor in many things, and my friend in all during this time. I always called him Unole William ; and it never occurred to me that our rela tions could be changed. People asked why he did not marry. He said that his old bachelorism was a chronic oomplaint, and would probably never be cured. I remem ber one night, as I lay in bed, that the thought occurred to me : What if William Cumming should marry ? It is surely no harm to speak of it now, for he has been married several years, and I—. But I will not anticipate. The pretty widow, Mrs. Jameson, had been Btaying a month with a friend in our neighborhood, and William had often been very polite to her, and what was worse than all, he had promised that she should ride Selim. The next day was appointed for her to ride, and by a not very strange coincidence, I this night asked myself the question : ‘ Why cannot Ibe married to William Cumming?’ The answer was, ‘ be is old enough to be your father.’ The beautiful Mrs. Jameson was still young, but nearer William’s age than I was. My purse beat fast, and the long vista Of my future'life looked gloomy and terrible. After tormenting myself till I thought I wanted to die, I fell asleep. I awoke in a kind of shuddering horror. I had heard sounds the,.like of which I had never heard before; they seemed com pounded of the squeal of a horse and the groans and cries of a human being. I was sure that I had heard these sounds, that it was not a sleeping fancy ; but when I was fully awake, I heard them no more. It was a warm night in'the latter part of June, and my windows were raised. 1 slept on the second floor, and two large windows of my room faoed the south. Half a mile, in a direot line from these windows, was a post-road. I was sure that the sounds I had heard came from the-road, or near vicinity. I listened earnestly, but all was still. Suddenly there floated into the room, filling it* as it were, an odor that I was perfectly sure was from human blood. I shrank down into my bed, and shook' with horror; then, with a great effort of my will,-I arose, threw on a dressing gown, and hurried to my father’s room. ‘ Father, father !’ I cried, ‘ come with me.’ ‘ What is it, Agnes, -dear ?’ said my mother, ‘ what has frightened you ?’ ‘I thought 1 heard 1 some one,’ said I, 1 evasively,’ ; , ' I Waited for my father to dress; and it seemed an hour’s time,: though only a few minutes, that he was putting on his clothes. - . , p ; ; When -we -were out of hearing of my mother, P told him of the sgunds and of the smell of blood. .’He always believed! ■me when I told him ofranytbmgthat' inoitedibleji for he-.had,, mnoh ex ipeHeifoe of.ibe troth of the WstunbEV J of my senses.' • t ■ -7.7:, 7,77, 7 ‘ half a mtieifrm .J-TiTiO ; ..’C-.U :t ; fc'£o. r :ing is lying bleeding todeath, I am sure of it? , ■' • My father took a lantern,. and wont to WilliamCnmming; Id.ressed,and when they came, I led the way to the spot, where I was convinced weishonld find-some one dead or dying. The howling of the dog that preceded us struck na all with a sad solemnity. As we' drew hear the edgis of the field, .which, was-bounded by the road, we saw a horse standing, and. as we came nearer, we saw it was Belim. Lying beside him was a man. My father stooped to examine, and said : ‘ I believe he is dead.’ The halter was buckled to his arm, and he was bitten horribly in his arms and legs, and had bled to death; They raised him, and laid him on the back of the now docile Selim, thinking that perhaps he had only fainted. They took him to our house, but he was quite dead. < He proved to be the thief who had stolen Selim before, and who had only been three days out of prison.— After the necessary formalities, the poor wretch was buried. Selim never passed the place Where he had killed him without being seized with a severe shuddering. ■ • I was very'ill from the shook of this dreadful scene. I believe I was out of my senses, and bad a sort of brain fever, which was very much aggravated when the widow Jameson called to see me. When I was recovering—when I was very well, but very weak—l was, one day alone with William Cumming ; 1 was look ing at him, and thinking how noble and handsome he was, and then 1 thought of the Widow Jameson, and of her beauty, and I said : ‘ Uncle William, has Mrs. Jameson rode Selim yet ?’ ‘ Agnes, dear,’ he said, almost impa tiently, ‘ I wish you never would call me ‘ Unde William’ again,’ and his forehead had an ugly soowl on it, whioh greatly marred its exceeding beauty. I blushed scarlet, but said nothing. ‘Please promise not to call me unde again,’ he said bes.eeohingly. 1 A sweet thrill of happiness stole into my heart, and I said, blushing and smil ing : ‘ Why should I hot call you unde, and Mrs. Jameson aunt, when she is your wife?’ , ‘My wife!’ said he, vehemently," ‘ I shall never marry, unless my little Agnes will be my wife.’ ‘ You will not marry a little witch V 1 said. 1 And you will not marry an old bache lor, almost as old as your father?’ said he. I wanted to say : ‘ Who said I would not ?’ but I did say : ‘ I am so strange and unlike every body else, that you could not be willing to take me for your wife.’ ‘ Willing !’ said William, < I would give the wealth of the world to call you my wife, little witch as you are. Will you leave off calling me Uncle William, and be my little wife, Agnes, my heart's pet, my darling ?’ 1 was sitting beside him in my weak-, ness ; his arm stole round my waist, my head sunk upon his bosom, he clasped me in a fervent embrace and said : ‘ Mine forever,’ and I answered : ‘ Mine forever.’ Selim is eighteen years old to-day, and my eldest daughter is ten. She is a lovely girl, and, to my great joy, she is no way peculiar ; unless being a great romp, and very brilliant and healthy in her complex ion, may be considered unnsnal in this day of prim sohools and pale girls. One thing is oertain, and it is a great comfort to me, that though she is a ohild of good sense, and capacity for moral and intellectual attainment, she is never called a. ‘ little witoh.’ A Wonderful Architect. Do you know the type setter is an aro.hi teot? You see those bitsof lead and zinc lying over, across and against eaoh other, like the tangled braids of a mermaid’s hair ? And yet they form an army more powerful than ever fought on tented field. Yesterday they stood up ‘ form’—truly, in a thousand forms. You may look upon the little bits with a smile on your lips, but you little dream they are stronger and wiser than you—they will speak when you are dead and forgotten. They have sometimes made you smile, and sometimes shudder.— ‘ Stocks!’ Isn’t there something in that word ? Havn’t you been head and heels in them for years, and don’t your feelings rise and fall with them alternately? A little farther on you come to the ‘ Married.’ Ah ! I thought that would make you smile. I saw you kiss a baby then, and that word unraveled it all. You havn’fc forgotten the day yog went Charting, have yon ? Then there was magic in the utteranoe. You stood at the altar on the strength of the happiness you felt, and if you have not al ways loved the girl as you ought to, there is no one you love as well. You secretly bless the day when the single word ‘Mar ried’. was wreathed like a .saored archway over the joys of you and yours. Don’t you remember little Minnie—she whom you loved so well—she with‘the blue eyes and auburn curls ? When Death’s dark Angel folded her little delicate hands over her snowy bosom, and sealed her lovely eyes with its ioy fingers, don’t you remember how the great tide of sorrow came surging o’er your smitten heart? You little thought the other day when you pioked up the paper—that the word ‘Died,’ of only four letters—whioh you laughed at as they lay dusty and dirty in their square homes —would make you weep—would make you think of her whom God hath taken. If you come to his offioe to-morrow the printer will show you how to distribute knowledge. He will pull to pieces tough, wiry arguments that yesterday defied the world. Those pretty palaces which -the poet wrought will have to come down, and their golden fanoies become to-morrow the integuments of the politician’s prose. In they go—those metalio dwarfs, scattered broadcast like good seed, whiah shall bring forth sixty, aye an hundred fold. - ‘Sixty lives lost’ and Prentice’s last joke march in together, and the printer whistles Yan kee Doodle as carelessly'aO if hufnan life was below par, and so it is. This is the printer’s life and business. A Printing Office is' a great’ bowling alley. The .printer sets 'bp pins—the w.orld keepsjtalley, the editor puts theNall inmotion, and away it goes; carrying death: and : destruotiouin its frontysendibga pin here hnd a piuthere, while .a noisy rabble . alWayeatand by-tooheernedhiss dowothe playeraftiSemei^ayfotmoaey.iapiJf^few •^-a-premouß. fe w-rtJo-ifctos patronize" the boss and bless mankind,; ;Np;m»tter'what the balls are made of or how they go, if they only hit the, mark. The orowd pocket .the spoils and.the honors..are deft to the proprietor, who goes behind the scenes and starves in his shirt sleeves." And such is life. . ’ ? ■ When" the printer dies, the world just gets "a glimpse of his value ’ as his coat-tail vanishes into glory, and then it looks very bad, rubs its head a little, Calls him a clever fellow—says only fault was in being poor, and then the world shoves;his sympathy. OUt of sight‘into that idiom the human heart, and on rolls the Juggernaut as though nothing had happened. Some day the people will wake up and find a screw lost in the jagged machine of human progress. If. you do, don’t waste more sympathy than possible on those my theological fellows who print your books and papers, t , European Gossip. Here is an anecdote of a confidence man, told by M. Pasquier, who was Prefeot of Police in Paris, under the first Em peror: A magnificent carriage drove up, - one day, to the door of a rich jeweller in Paris, and a well looking, important and not overdressed gentleman alighted from it. He said he wanted a complete wedding parwre, consisting of a lady’s set of diamond ornaments, the price limited to 200,000 franos, equal to §40,000. Prom several designs, which he examined with the evi dently practiced eye erf a connoisseur, he selected one, whioh he desired might, be executed within five days, and insisted on leaving 4000 francs with jeweller as a de posit. He also selected a ring, worth 120 francs, which he begged might be sent to him the next day, giving his address as Prince Gargarin, Hotel Hollande, Rue de la Paix, which was a more fashionable house in 1805 than it is in 1862. The jeweller’s messenger oalled at the appointed time, and was shown into an apartment on the . second story. There were five or six liveried lackeys in the ante-chamber, one of whom escorted him to the. Prince, who reoeived and examined the ring, paid for it, and presented ten francs to the messenger, who returned home joyfully congratulating the jeweller on having so wealthy and liberal a cus tomer. On the fifth day, as agreed, the jeweller oarried home the diamonds, and found the Prince in his study, sitting before his cylindrical secretaire. His Highness minutely inspected the jewels with a glass, and suddenly one of the valets announced ‘ Prinoe Dolgoronki.’ ‘ Ah'! my brother in-law,’ exclaimed his Highness. ‘I do not wish him to see tbe present with whioh I intend surprising his sister. Request him to stay in the drawing-room, and I will im mediately join him.’ Touching the table, the cylinder moved and the secretarie olosed. Tbe diamonds were within it—but on the table was an open box filled with plump leather bags, and rouleaux of lonia were huddled together confusedly. On his arrival the jeweller noticed all this treasure, and more especi ally a large Russia leather portfolio, well lined with bank notes,' the rough edges of whioh were visible; ' The Prince quitted the room, saying that he would immediately return. The polite jeweller begged him not to hurry himself. Twenty minutes elapsed, whioh seemed like three hours to the jeweller, over whom a vague apprehension crept. The door opened—o ! here-fs his Highness, he thought.. No. It was the master of the hotel, who asked if he was waiting for any one. ‘ For the return of Prinoe Grar garin,’ -the jeweller answered.'' 1 1 have just sold him a set of diamonds for 200,- 000 francs. Are you his secretary ?’ The mnitre d’/iotel shook his head .and sadly said, ‘I am his dupe, and so’ are you, I suppose. 3 ‘lmpossible ! the diamonds are shut up in that seoretarie. Besides, look at all this money. 3 Alas, the leathern bag which he seized was filled with nails. ■ The rouleaux were of wood. The 'Russian leather portfolio contained scraps of waste paper. However, there was one consolation—the diamonds were safe. A locksmith was sent for, the seoretarie opened, and found —empty ! It stood flush up against a wall, in which a hole had been made, and there being a corresponding hole in the back of the seoretarie, the jewels had readily been re moved to the next room. The jeweller, as he well might be, was in despair. The master of the hotel had been swindled. AH the servants were his except the valet dtchambre, who was the confederate of the ‘ Prince. 3 They had deoamped without suspicion, at the door of the hotel. 'All efforts to discover them were ineffectual. The poor jeweller, nearlyjruined by this robbery, had to remove his much diminish ed business to another part of Paris, where his name was sunk in.that of his partner’s. Many years after he received a message from one Monsieur Teron, described as a gentleman holding an official situation, who desired to purchase some rings. In stead of sending a clerk, he. went himself, and was shown into a partially lighted bed chamber, where, in the invalid in hed, he recognized his old oustomer, the cidevant Prince G-argarin. The recognition was not mutual, and the jeweller held his tongue and bided his time. Prom the rings exhibited a few were se lected, to the value of 6000 francs, and M. Teron, declaring that, he had not .the means of paying in cash, asked the jeweller if he would exohange against a curious old snuff box, which' he declared to be of great valve. This was an octagon shaped ohina snuff box, ornamented with ten miniatures by Clinohsteil, •: set -in gold and rubies;—• No one knew its value so well as the jew eller, for it was, one that bad been, stolen from himself shortly before Prince Grar garin’s visit. , Moreover he. know what few others did, that it. had a secret spring, by means of which all the miniatures could be taken out of their settings and their’ reverses exhibited, On Which were painted subjects, treated with admirable skill, in the indelicate style jieouliar to the age of Louis XV. ' . 'Without any hesitation the jeweller val ued the box at 50,000 francs,'Whioh was much more than M. Teron expected. The jeweller, on -the- Other hand,'said it was probably worth even more,.and made .this proposal; ‘ Take the rings.;, you : have chosen* and put- the box; in, an eirvelope, stating it to be my it does not bring more than.,50,000 francs, you rings. for.nothing, 3 IWS? opening Jus purse. I •’'<& i>. si k s ,; M; Toronassented. Two of his neighbors, of them a notary, were sent for, and’ .the invalid asked, ‘ Who shall fix the prioe of the box V ‘ You, kir,’ said the jeweller; ‘Twill lay a wager that you will value it ah 500,000 francs. Let me tell yon in’ ."'private' a ciroomstauoe connected with box, whieh will enable you : to perceive its ‘ real value* , : ■ . . " ' Mi Teron,-curious, and anxtoua enough now, ■ gave bis; consent,, and. the-two refer ees retired, -.Than the jeweller said:— ‘ Sixteen years ago that snuff box was stolen from me, when I traded on Boule vard desltaliens—a few days before I was robbed of 200,000 francs’ worth of dia monds by 'yourself,". under tbe assnmedl name of Prinoe Gargarin. My evidenoh" relative to’ the loss of the box is oh' the records of the police. You ntiw declare the box to be yours. I have already sworn that I purohased it at a public sale. The man who sold it to. me is still alive. 1 know a secret about the box whioh will further prove my ownership—a secret whioh you have not discovered. Unless you repair all the wrongs you have done me, I shall at onoe have you arrested as a thief. I will give you five minutes to de termine.’ '' Within that time,’ thus driven into a corner, M. Terou, who was really an inva lid, handed his keys to, the jeweller, and bade him open a drawer, in which he could find 800,000 in billets de banque, and signed a cheek for 200,000 franos more, payable at his banker’s that same day.— This done, the witnesses were rooalled. ‘ Gentlemen,’ said the jeweller, exhibit ing the bank notes and. Cheek, ‘you see that M. Terou has become aware of the value of the box. .He has purchased it back from me for five ’ hundred thousand’ franos.- Ib it not so ?’ ‘ Yes,’ sighed’M. Teron, ‘I have given him that sum.’— ‘ Then,’ said the jeweller, ‘ here is the box, and 1 will let you have the rings into the' bargain. You may explain the mystery as you please; for my part I promise eter nal secrecy.’ The jeweller retired,. leaving the wit nesses in a maze and M. Teron in dismay. The notary was unable .to keep silent, and the police eventually unravelled the mys tery, though the jeweller observed his promise of secreoy. M. Teron, who was so immensely rich as to leave three million franos to his heirs, never recovered from the mortifioation of having been detected and compelled to refund, with compound interest. - " Avoiding a Dun. A compositor in one of the daily news paper offices, though a good fellow like many of the printing profession, (for they are all good fellows,) suffers from repeated attacks of limited finances, or revenue dis proportions! to his disbursements. He has no objections to paying his debts, even to the last penny, when he has the money; but when he is short, he abhors the idea of meeting his creditors, for ho hates a dun as he hates the d—l or a dirty ‘ proof.’ On one of the last few -occasions of the pressures upon typo’s .monetary market, he was descending from the news room to the'street, when he met a collector, who asked him if James H. Smith—giving the printer’s name—worked in that office. ‘ Why do you wish to see him ?’ asked Smith. ‘ I have a bill against him (producing it) for 520, left by Dr. A— —, who, yon re member, recently died, and his accounts have been placed in my hands for collec tion.’ ‘ James H.. Smith,’ replied the oompos itor repeating his own name slowly, as if it had a mysterious, familiar sound, and he was endevoring to recall it. ‘ I have heard that name before, surely—James H. Smith—James H.—James H.—oh, yes ! (as if with sudden remembrance,) he used to be employed here, certainly, certainly he did. I remember now; ho worked next' to my case, poor 1 fellow!’ and the speaker paused and looked sad. ‘Did anything happen to him?’ asked the collector. ‘ £es, he died one morning suddenly of the cholera, after attending the sick bed of a dying friend.’ ‘Did he leave anything?’ asked the man of bills. ‘ Oh, no ; the hoys in the office had to bury him. I gave five dollars myself to help in putting the generous creature under the sod. He died penniless.’ ‘ Then there is no use in keeping this bill, I suppose ?’ ‘ None at all,’ said James H. Smith. And as the collector tore up the bill and departed he continued, to himself, ‘ liguess I’ve got rid of that old bore. It wasn’t, perhaps, muoh of a story I was telling. Probably, I was only anticipating a little after all—except in the five dollar contri bution.’ The LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER JOB PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT, No. 8 NORTH DtJKK BTRKET, LANCASTER, PA. The Jobbing Department is thoroughly famished with new and elegant type of every description, and is under the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printers*-* • The Proprietors are prepared to PRINT CHECKS, NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS, CARDS AND CIRCULARS, BrLL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, __ PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS, PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, • . • BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS ANHi PLAIN PRINTING, with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasons* ble terms, ana in a manner not excelled by any establish* ment in the-eity. *. * Orders from a ’distance, by .mail or . promptly attended to. ' Address GEO. SANDERSON & SON, Intelligencer Office, No. 8 North 2>oke street, Lancaster, Pa. 18 6 2 . APE IX. ARRIVAL OF SPLENDIU NEW SPKINO OOODB •' AT n j? NTZ BROS 1 Lot of FOULARD SILKS, only cents. - 1 Lot Spring Challfe .DBLA.XNES, 12%c., worth 20c. 1 Lot Brocha VALENCIAS. Boqua, 25,31, S7l4c. l Lot Boporßoqoa CHALLIBSj only 25c.' SHEPHERDS'. PLAIDS, beantifal and good, 25c. All onr best CALICOES, Belling at 12V&. - 1 Lot Extra Good CALICOES, only 10c. 1 Lot excellent Bonnet and Apron Ginghams, 12i^c. SHAWL AND CLOAK ROOM. " New Stocfcof' ' ' PRING. SHAWLS AND CLOAKS/ - , . . .Bsaotiful Smixa Shawls. Erery ila'y brings eomethfng new.” :. • • CHOICE BARGAINS OF THE DAT, ' Opened daily at ' • '-i 7-WENTZ 8R05.;,! . No. 5" East King Street, 1 ATANCAL AND j DH.ILIL. BOOK, FOR .XTjL'tbe ns? of .all Volunteer* and Militia, .revised, rected, and adapted to the discipline, of the soldier at> tbs; present day,,by ,an officer In the.unlted States Army. . - - At V 'JaV. W3SSTHAE?PER»i- ;*i’ 1 l9i ; Nd4*, A Orange rts. : PR-frit tto at- &&&MVBS&PF&'MRsanAXT} i Vo'SlS'Sp^ali'QiKDin' BraKlf,'■ -"'l „? v? '’Stafj&flSiJSffißi*' lu sl (, fe a . ,i .bzxisii : -'j .Oii'ttitij Ki; oical did i^aj: d*s24J T>lOTri A ROaFI V ft . J> ; 4-tontA(mpoo tar*ia <rr *r~r «r% UNITED STATES BIOTurATRQOFINft’ OOMPANT^ No. 9 Qou BLOCKt SiORRXB Oxxxb AHD Pan Bss. BOSTON, MASS. - This Portable Roofing-is-tfaeonly article ever offered to tho public, which is ready prepared to go on the roof without any finishing handsome, and eaafly applied, and can be safelyand any part of the world. It wip dlMuor water ran* hing over, or lying oadt, Yery de- - slrable article. Its < adapt It especially to corering and it Is confidently offered years In all varieties, of climate and ttmperatu^'|br*.coY»rinf 4 -allilnda of roofis, flat orpltch'ed. together sdatbira, staamT * boats, Ac. ■ • l t (•/=- • is both cheap and dhrabldi. Agents wantedSto whan- 1 liberal indocemeata '£+**&£*&) ■wupl* |^Hnni^r , Jc-i with particulars, to *U. S. No; ■** BjiOCK, Bostqk.” . . ... ... H OTTARD A S.B 001 AT 1 - ' v ; For the Relief Sict atfd'Dlstreßeedi'tfQietdd wiiai * Vlra'entandChroiiid-Dlseaeai, aodespedeUyfortbeCnw of Diseases of therotoal Organs--' -'.4. V on * v Weafcues?, audotberDiseaaescithe -Sezn*t .Chwui J YU& .- ontbeNKW R.KMKDIB3 employed — to the afflicted in waled letter oFbgukrgs. - Two or throe Stamps for. poetage'Wilfoe acceptable. . Address, PS. J. SKIIJiIN HQOQHTQN. Acting Surgeon, Howard Association,' No. 2 South Ninth St, Philadelphia jane 10 , y,' 1y22 l NEW 'SPAIN O S TTLB S . The Undersignedcall® specialattentlonto a new and well selected'stock oft'-' ‘T'T* ' o'&D ti-;~ J - ■ of the latest styles, consisting of eolOffcdand white .Straw Goods of all kinds and-pricee, bonnet'frameset fit'every body, French and American Flowere. in great .variety, .rib bons, quillings,'laces; edgings, Jolnbland,’ r gimp‘ and htir- - lace, and a great variety of BoncatXrfcnmloga. aiik.jsatin, crape and different-kinds of bonnet-materials,-' '-’-Ti rg-Tv TRIMMED, STRAW A FANCY BONNETS; ?jVV a large assortment to suit-eterjy taste, cape* -flag - .|Pw r :.nett, crown-lining, wire, and a great many articles uqnecessary.to mention, all ofwhich 1 wUldsell >■. cheaper .than the cheapest, cither wholesale or retail* Also, a floe assortment of JEWELRY and DRY GOODS, ‘ op hand, and various Notions, all-of which will be Sold . very cheap.; - ■ - - i Call and examine my stock before purchasing elsewhere. Thankful for past favors, the subscriber hopes to have the patronage of his old custom era, mid many nav.onss. ■ . . h BAUM.. . No. 31 North Queen St.'' apr 1 3to 12] DEESSLER'B ' v HAIR JZn&IsRY STORE, No. 206 North Bth Strict aboys Racol ' PHILADELPHIA. : c On hand and fcraale, a choice asrortmflnt'ol'superior patterns, and -will plait to order BRACELETS, 'EAR RINGS, FINGER RINGS, BREAST PINS, CROSSES, - NECKLACES, GUARD: AND J VEST CHAINS. 4®“ Orders enclosing the hair toheplaltedmliy bo sent by mail. Give a drawing asnear aeyou can on-paper, and enclose such amount as you may choose to payi -:- --- '* Costs as follows: Ear Rings s2tu s6—BreastPinss3 *to s7r-Finger Rings 75 cents to sB.so—Vest Chains $6 to 4T-- Necklacos-s2to $lO. ' :< ■ r SS“ Hair put Into Jledalions, Box Breastpins, Rings, Ao; OLD GOLD AND SILVER BOUGHT AT' PAIR RATES. aprlP • ■ • ly 14 Firth, posd * co., MANUFAOTUBBBS-OF • MUSICAL 1 NS.Ty.RU MEN T.' S.-', AND PUBLISHBBS OP ■ SHEET MU SIC.., • 647 Bboadwat, Nbw JTobk. Great inducements offered.to purchasers. NEW AND SPLENDID pi'ANO FORTBB, asiow as £2OO for cash, and every instrument warranted. N BW PIANOS rented and the rent applied 'to the pur* chase. * , MELODEONS AND, HARMONKUMS constantly on BAND IN S' T;RiU ME N T 8 . We manufacture and import Band-Instruments of all kindsTn . • _• A fui! set of 12 Brass Instruments, forwarded' for $l5O cash. List of prices sent.on application by letter. - EVERY KIND OF MUSICAL INSTRUMENT, ~ i and all kinds of Musical Goods can be. furnished ■in .our stock. Parties ordering.by letter and enclosing the money, can depend upon prompt attention to their orders. OUR NEW GERMAN SILVER HFfi, price $7.50, in case, is the best Fife ever made..-, -. r.. ... - GUITARS! GUITARS 11 - Tbe demand for our Guitars is constantly oh the increase, because they do not crack or split-in any climate. Every Guitar of our makeis fuUy. warranted. •. i J PRICE'B' ’* - No. 1. MAHOGANY GUITAR, with patent head, in case, with extra set of strings..; No. 2. RO3EWOOD GUITAR, patent head, in Ac... IS N°- 3. “ “ extra beading, A 0—........ 22 «°* “ “ oval back,Ac.... 25 No. 5. “ “ centrifugal bars, Ac- 86 No. 6. “ “ elegantly inlaid, and finished in superior; 5ty1e,..,...... 50 We will pack our Guitars free of charge, on receipt,of the price from parties ont of the clty.-i j • Cheap imported Guitars, from $2 and upwards. BAN JOS !' BAN JOS M We make the-best Banjos in the-World! Our patent, BaDjos with extra screws and turning‘keys, for Solo Play ers, has thrice the tone and power‘of the ordinary Banjo.' -• Price, from $8 to $25, with case, according to finish.. Cheap Banjos, from $t and upwards.- Buckley’s New Method for,the Banjo. The best book, for learning that instrument. Price $l, copies sent by malt, postage paid.' .• STRINGBI. STRINGSU j Really good Violin Strings are a rarity. We make' it a '’’ point to keep very superior Btrings;. for good 'l f 7.5 cents per set. Sent by mail, postage paid. Beside the above we have Italiaa, German,‘••French and-English:-- Strings, for Yiolin, Vlolincello, houble Bass, Ac. Jeweller*,, Dealers in Music-, Boo'ks, Fancy Goods; Ac., are invited to ‘ ' give onr Strings a trial. .- •. - ; 5. , SHEET MUSIC AND MUSICAL BOOKS. /’ * " Our Catalogue of Music !s : very extensive'and-popdltfr,-it? and we.are publishing New Musio.Eyery Day. Besides our own publications we have all' of the Musio .published in tbe country, and can furnish Foreign Muslpj Dealers, Teachers of Music, Heads “of Seminaries, Book Dealers sod-News Agents, can have-their orders filled and forwarded by Express or mail. - The postage on Mnsic .sent by' mail Is only abont oftie cent for each, pieces Thlais the cheapest and quickest way to forward small packages. 1; • ■ ,■&&* Send for our Catalogues and Circulars. Remember the name and number. may 6 3m 17] DR . J . .'J?.. JB A K BR , * HOMOEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN, ‘ OP' LAI? ; 0 A • -Til'B- (Jl'l-'ly mayb© consulted professionally, .at his .Office, at Henry Hotel, in the Borough of Btraahorg, on Thursday of - fth each week* from 10 o'clock.in the tn/imlng to thMu* <*, »h* afternoon. ,-.h'D? An opportunity is thus afforded to reaWentinf Straabnr* *./ j a j_s ma ' 6S from chronic diseases may enjoy c^:;[ advice.of one who has made, this class of diseases a speciality. •' J.T.'BAKER, M.D., ’ : oct 22 tf4l j EMt KiDgsti§^iWveEto^£ i naSter ''' J A BOOK. FOB THE IiaBB!' SET ITU READ IT!!! ; . JULIETTE MOORE; OR PASSION AND REALITY. A TALI OITHBfIOUTH. _ BY WILLIE .WARE, Well known as a contributor to the following first-class" publications; Peterson’s :;Natlonal Magazine, Godey** i' n Lady’s Book, New York Weekly, New York Saturday 1 Courier, New York Dispatch,;New York-guAday Tlmea,' ; Flag of Onr Union, Troe Flag, American Union, Literary Companion, Life Illustrate*/Ac./Ac. 1 - *.:/ ’ \ -va H© la also well known as the original ofDoestlokfl. Bweet • . William; in the Diversions of t& a tee leb rated'writer. And - '' the author of Driftwoods Th© Little Brown House. Estelle - Graham, (a prize story,) The Choice, etc. • .' mmaldiscounttotrade/ . .'s'- ./ j; Please send yonr orders immediately to J - ' WILLIE WARE, Mijn«>e/M!cfc' / OF BOOK-15 Qento ,7 1 o O', 0 0 0 BAESELSOF THB'’l,di>f 1 MANUFACTURING CO.’S POUDRBTTH. - y For Sale by LODI MANUFACTURING CO, V 330 South Wharres, HiUadelpMai v'Oi This company, with a capital of $150,000, the jmost ex- r tensive work of the klndfnthe world, and ah* experience I ''' l 1“. pwifacturfng, with, * lW jrat»tl(ja4png established,-having also the exclusive control of allnhe V ’ night soil from the great <aty of-New York? are hzeptthd • ( to famish an article, which la, without doubt the cheanest. and very beet fertiliser in market- • :■! i--;. J ♦if 11 ® 6 ? r 7 rr^ I , an d ov£r,sl,so ppr bam}. or ; only. .$l5 per ton. It greatly increases the yleldaha ripens the " J crop from two to .three weeks earlier, at an expense of from ;„ $3 to $4 per acre, and with verr little labor. ; ' A Pamphlet, containing all the information necessary, with letters from:llorai*'Greeley; Daniel’Werner, and hundreds of &rpaers who have used, R- exteoslrelToflir' many years, may be. had free by addressing a letter as at>ove,or v.~:.‘un JAMEST;FOSTERS _.. ;. - .66 Conrtland street, New* . «•. feb 118 m 6] " (Care of-theL6dl *'^ Horse and ib at tl epo w TAITERBA VS HORSE POWDER, -« * >:; r, *; HEAVE POWDER, . , vROSIN] 5 s . r . . GBURtAR ... 7. .7*7.7 ,1, - orbaSt tartar, ' : * 7 . For sale at THQMAfI '■ ' -, * ChamlealStoire, Weit King street, ■.> feb.9 •. __ . tf4 “ TIHB BtOCKAPE BEOKBSr” • JL. ' 8 I Alii' BJCI ATE! I “ ' > " Tnfi subscriber, bat mads be: supbUedV; fttll.awly of the., beet quality of,Booling, B!sfe from tiie Lancaster ♦ ~v ; He baa engaged the serrfeek of: James wfio knovn to -be one pf thebeitand tida, ♦» county, ' * v 4 - tBt'ALL W QBE:ARBAM EBB ,'*©g t d *0 n u Orde w reepoc solicited, mar 42m ‘yZyBAOT F PgSCB.ri»- ", T ’m^ni-..9di taoit gv;iyjs»i 'vbi&hoibiairill/hiii Bd3BB*lB^PitjKfejßfc|^p^r's " TEEMS ptr'Qiy.' '’ ruuwSEtt’w 3 * 7 a Ji »>as t r,Uiasiaa-l yn; fet^itiswax 9-J ~. istaasO i&. .la . :'i v :iSi ink ' r ‘\: l STV '-1; "> -TSU/f/ST ;7isJS'.Ssa« r ■ i.v*' .A .- >:*.-* !*"if- ?&s2t ■* U .wsva : ;i TOr#j££ yiB'Pn.iEOND & CO, r; i; j _ . 547 Bro.adwsy, Mew York.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers