VOL. LXIV. CEIE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER ILVtair TIJUDA , Z, AT NO. 8 NORTE! DUES BTANZT, Y GEO. SANDERSON. TERMS. SmxicaiPriox.,--Tvio Dollars per annum, =payable In ad vance. No subsxripti•e; di,continned until all arreur ages are paid, onles4 at the option of the Editor. ADVERT' inatirl.—Advertisements, not exceeding one square, (ill lines,) will be inserted three times for one dollar, and twerity.five cents for each additional inser tion. Those of greater length iu proportion. .Jon PRINTING—Such as Iland Bills, Posters, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels. exocut,,d with accuracy and on tha sborr•ct notice. THAT TONE Ere a cloud had shadowed our morning, Ere a thorn in our path-way grew ; Ere the world had taught us its scorning Of all that is good and true : When care nad hardly a seeming, When doubt had hardly a name, When the hues of our fancy dreaming Were never of wealth or fame: In the days of our sunny childhood, When our cabinet wtt, ruu o'er With the blossoms of meadow and wild-wood, And pebbles from off the shore ; When weepings in sorrow and sadness Our little life never bad known, We listened, in joy and in gladness To a soft and musiesl lone. Then visions of bliss were round us, And joy-wreathed spirits were ours; For hope and Love had crowned us With seemingly fadeless flowers. So we built to ourself an Eden And said: "'Twill be always day; For much to our heart is given, And naught shall be taken away." But the angels among their number Bad missed that musical tone, And they came 'mid his gentle slumber, Claiming our own, their own. Then the evenings were drnped in sorrow, The mornings were shrouded in grief; No hope could wo build on the morrow, Because of our unbelief. So we wailed in our desolate spirit, We moaned in our helpless pain ; We prayed that the Lord might-hear it— " Give us our own again : " For the roots of our faith were shaken ; Despair encircled our brow : Our all had the Master taken ; Oh! nothing was left us now. But once-in our desolate dreamings We listened to that dear tone, And the eye with its purified gleaminge Look,d earnestly into our own. in its sanctified depths was written. Rebuke for our waning trust, And our penitent soul was smitten Down, down to the sister dust. We wailed,in our sorrow no longer; A ray in the future gleamed; The roots of uur faith grew stronger The-rougher our pathway seemed : For now to our heart is-given tweet memory of that tone, Which woos us toward yen heaven Where at last we may claim our own MABEL MORE did not care : I knew full well 'Twits only areh coquetting, And since she said abe loved but me, I did not dream of fretting. her smile and glance were Truth herself, That left no rout. for doniIllg: I'd rather ii k 3 her cherry lips Than curl my own iu pouting. The morning came that bore away My own, my dearest Mabel, And lickly whirled, 1 recollect, Thu cock that topped the gable. 0 Mabel More! lit mu no more That smile of thine .Fhould ripple: My lame that on thy heart was wrought Was only dune in stipple. Miss More no more! mine nevermore! I found tine false and tickle, And I was but a man of straw. Ihy summer time to tickle For seven days of weary time The news trout Mabel carried, Thai. she to Mr. Johnson Smith The day betore teas married, The why was plain., 0 Mabel Moro! For he was rich, though wilted; And so she snapped her solemn vows, And married Smith, the jilt did. But rich as was her Mr. Smith, I envy not his pleasure, Nor ever think to hate the man For filching such a treasure. TILL CLOSING HOUR. , The monarch of day, on pinions of light, Is sailing above his eyrey so bright; In gorgeous array the hills of the west Are decked to receive their goldeu-clad guest As onward he sails adown the bright sky, Gay myriad birds in melody cie ; We nehr the bright goal with glittering crest, With song sweet, and gay they lull him to rest That bright goal is gained, his last ling'ring ray, As peace the last smile of death-stricken day, Attires in gold the mountain's high crest, And tires if loattib to leave it undressed. 'Tis hid from our gaze, yet melody sweet From field and from grove our senses doth greet ; 'Tis nature's grand harp, whose cords span the earth, Enrapturing the ear with notes they give birth. 'lN.lid music thus grand the prelude of night Appears to usurp the kingdom of light, And at his approach the last of day Far o'er western hills is fleeing away. While out from beneath their curtain of blue Bright myriad stars emerge into view Grim night with bar pinions moistened with dew Now drapes sleeping earth in raven-like hue. [Baltimore County Advocate CALEB GRAYMARSH Old Caleb Graymarsh dwelt in the New England village of 31 , hard by his own stone-walled, black-cbimneyed fac tory, which belched forth fire and smoke all day, and shone like some ogre's palace half the night with the fires and lights which glimmered through the windows, and shed a crimson gleam over the waste and barren land about the building. For it was a stirring place, this factory, and the work people were there among the whirring machinery night and day strong, stalwart fellows, with begrimed hands and faces—old men, who could just totter tip the stairs—women, tidy and trim, and some of them very pretty, and the little children who, had they been born of wealthy pAr,-nts, would only have been per mitted to leave the nursery under the guardianship of a maid. There was oc cupation for all 31 at the great fac tory, and, in the eyes of his employees, Caleb Graymarsh was a man of mighty wealth and power. Fabulous tales were told of possessions in real estate, and the women folks had a legend among them that the tea service ? which some of them had seen glittering on the factory table, Was made of solid dollars, melted down for the express purpose. and that through out the house the furniture was covered with real silk velvet. It was a pity, they said, that poor .31rs. (iraymir,li could not have lived to see all this, but had died when Caleb was a young nian,'struggling for the fortune which was now his. A few years before there had been a simple white slab in the grave-yard, bearing the words, Kitty Graymarsh, aged 202 But of late, a splendid marble monument had arisen there with a flowery inscription on its face, and the figure of an angel bend ing over it. • A showy thing, with nothing artistic about, it; yet though the dead girl, who would have been an elderly woman by that — tine hact she lived, slept no more peacefully beneath the costly structure than she had beneath the simple slab, there was something touching in the eight when one thougld that by its erec tion the old man had striven to make his lost wife participate in the only possible way in the wealth which he so valued. It is hard to think of most old business men as young lovers—strange to believe that smiles or frowns from one woman were once of greater moment to them than the rise or fall of stooks has now become.— And the grim old factor whose brows were puckered into a continual frown, and whose mouth had become a straight stern line, with groove-like wrinkles on either side of it, scarcely looked the hero of a love tale.' Yet Caleb Graymarsh had been young once, and had loved his little Kitty with a strong, manly earnestness. She was the sole love of his life, the only woman who had ever made his heart beat. When he won her, simple country girl though she was, no monarch was fonder of his queen, although all but his wife be lieved him cold hearted, and wondered what charm young, blue-eyed Kitty had found in his stern face. Only Caleb Graymarsh himself knew how well he loved his wife, and when the sod was piled above her breast, he knelt above it, tear less and speechless, and prayed silently that God would let him die also. We talk of wishing for death very often, but only those who have drained the cup of suffering to the very dregs ever pray for it so earnestly that they would not shrink and tremble if their sinful prayer were answered, and the bolt from heaven were seen descending. One of those rare and terrible moments came to Caleb Gray marsh as he knelt above his young wife's grave, but none who knew him ever guess ed it. They saw, a few moments after wards, a plain, homely working man, with a crape about his bat, rise to his feet, and plod slowly homeward, and, seeing no tears in his eyes and hearing no complaint from his lips, thought he did not feel much, and so left him. But Caleb Graymarsh, having no living kindred, and not being at that time rich enough to have made friends, took the wailing baby from the woman who had cared for it while he followed its mother to the grave, and nursed it all night, feeling a strange comfort in the soft cheek he held against his own, and in the unconscious trifling of those tiny fingers about his face. He had thought very little of the baby while his Wife lived, save as a pet and a plaything ; it was well enough for him to have, but now he experienced a new feel ing towards it. It would grow, perhaps, to have her form and features. He wished it were a girl instead of a boy ; and yet even now he felt he was not quite desolate, since God had left him this. And so, when the morning dawned, and the golden sunbeams crept through the bedroom win dow, they fell on Caleb Graymarsh fast asleep, with his baby ou his bosom. He put the child to nurse the next day, and went about his work as usual. What ever were his feelings, he never spoke of them to any one.; and, young as he he bad a grim unsocial way with hitt' which encouraged none to seek his confidence.— On Sundays, instead of going with most of the other men to drink and frolic, or joining the few more sober minded at church, Caleb Graymarsh went to the coun try place where his baby was at nurse, and kept it with him under the green trees all day long. And the child ; unconscious as it really must have been, was so strange ly happy and contented that one mighti, easily have harbored the belief that its little eyes could not see, and read tender secret of that rough working man's soul. rear and year passed by, and plodding care and industry helped Caleb Gray marsh to climb the ladder of fortune. At first, some deft handiwork brought him higher wages ; then he became foreman, and at last a partner in the very estab lishment which he had first entered a friendless boy, ordered and cuffed about by any one who chose to take the trouble. The steps were short and easy after this, and, twenty years from the day on which he had knelt beside his young wife's grave, the black chimneys of his own fac tory arose above the roofs of the trim New England town, and people spoke of Caleb Graymarsh as a person of wealth and in fluence. In his life this man has married two strong passions—the love for his dead wife, and the greed of wealth ; not a miser's love of hoarding, but the pride . of possession. Caleb Graymarsh liked to see envious eyes turned upon him, and was fond of boasting and display. Very little sympathy had he, either, for a poor man. What he -had done he believed that others might, do also. Those who worked for him knew this, and expected no kindness from him. He was strictly just, and some times even rewarded success by liberality ; but he never compassioned failure or mis fortune. Few heartily liked him, but all, with accord, seemed to warm towards his son, young Henry Graymarsh, a genial, good-humored fellow, just come to man's estate, and handsome enough to turn the heads of all the girls in He was, as Caleb hoped he might be, his mother's image. He had her blue eyes and fair hair, gentle smile and her impulsive heart. Old Caleb had merely education enough to enable him to read and write and cipher in an imperfect manner ; but his son had been taught as well and thoroughly as any lad throughout the land. The grim factor Looked what he was, a working man risen to prosperous circumstances and weal ing pod clothes ; but the son, strange to say, might have been of rpyal blood for any thing you could have guessed to the con trary. In European lands, a peasant's child looks always like a' peasant, and the fea tures of an artisan's son betray his lineage ; but here, I know not why, a man needs only a pretty mother and a good education to look from head to foot a gentleman. Once home from college, young Harry Graymarsh was often seen in the factory, passing, with a kindly look and laugh, along the ranks of grimy Workmen who toiled in the lower part of the building, or pausing to chat with some blushing girl who moved with light step and graceful arms, bare to the dimpled elbow, amongst the whirring wheels and springs upon the upper floor. Even the bent old men Sand the pale factory children had a word or two from him, and many a comfortable blanket or warm shawl found its way, at Christmas time, to the dwelling of some poor old work woman dreadful bad with the rheumatiz,' at the bidding of young Master Harry. There came at last amongst the forces in the woman's room one which, to the eyes of Harry Graymarsh, was wondrously beautiful. An Italian sort of face, with liquid black eyes and hair so dark that there was a purple gloss upon it in the sunshine. It was the face which riveted the chain which first attracted the factor's son, but it . was the soul which riveted the chain which beauty first twined about hiii heart. She . was not ignorant, and poor though she' was, there was' an innate refinement j ,4 THAT COMMIT IS TEI MOST PROSPEROUS WHBRI LABOR COMMANDS THI GREATEST RIWARD.”- -BUCHANAN. LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 3. 1863. every movement. And so, by slow de grees, from a casual interchange of words, they came to whispered conversations by the river side, and long summer evening rambles in the green woods, and, before long, he had told her how beautiful she seemed to him, and how tenderly he loved her ; and the girl, by blushes and silence rather than by words, had revealed the secret of_ her heart to him. And then, one glorious day, when the sun was setting and great flocks of birds were flying homeward across the cloudless sky —when the distant mountains were all aflame, and every quivering leaf upon the tree-tops a shimmering point of gold, Harry Graymarsh and Alice Lee were be trothed to each other ; and so perfectly did she love him and trust his love for her, that she never thought ' He is rich and I am poor,' but only, He loves me.' Whether in those summer rambles Harry Graymarsh ever thought of his father, I do not know. He had never been thwarted by him in all his life, and perhaps he could not imagine that the rod of parental authority should first be wield ed in a [natter of such import ; besides what was there in modest, beautiful Alice Lee to awaken any one's aversion I Cer tain it is that, when one evening, sitting on the bank beside the river, with his arm about the waist of his betrothed, Harry lifted up his eyes • and saw his father standing behind him. He felt bashful and confused, but not alarmed. The old man vanished, as softly as he had appeared, and Alice did not even see him, but a storm was brewing, and it broke over Harry's head that very even ing. 4 Do you know that you are the son of the richest man in the place V said Gray marsh, standing crimson with rage before his son ; ''that you might marry an heiress if you like I and here I find you making love to a girl in my own factory, and you say you mean to marry her—you actually say that to my face.' I repeat it,' replied Harry ; we are betrothed.' There were hot words between the father and son after that ; taunts and re proaches, the first which had ever passed their lips, and the sun went down upon their wrath. They parted for the night in anger, and neither slept. It is an aw ful thing when those who love first, quar rel, and wounds are made which are the harder to heal for the memory of past tenderness. Old G-raymarsh had been in his own way a tender father, and Harry always a dutiful son. A stern parent and a bad child could have been reconciled more easily. . . Since affluence had given him the oppor tu-nity to be more idle, old Caleb bad felt some touches of the gout, and one of them twinged and tweaked him the next morn- log. Therefore he sent a grudging mes sage to Harry, telling him that he must go to his place to the factory that morn ing, and received an angry but obedient answer. Then, before Harry was off, a servant left the house with a note for Alice Lee, bidding her not to go to work that day, but present herself before him in an hour's time. She must be got rid of, he thought. He would bribe her to go to some distant plane. This common factory girl could not wed his Harry.— But when she stood before him in her modest beauty, it was very hard to speak to her as he had intended. This was no coarse creature, ambitious of. wealth and setting snares for the rich man's son ; something of the soul of Henry's dead mother shone upon the old man from her earnest eyes, and he felt softened. They were together in a little room, the win dows of which looked upon the factory ; she was standing near the casement with her eyes upon the dark pile; he seated at the table trifling with some papers and wondering how to begin. In the silence, the whirr, whirr of the machinery came plainly to their ears, and Caleb thought the noise was strangely loud and distinct. He remembered that impression long after, and wondered that it did not trouble him more at that moment. As it was, he only thought— , What shall I say? Why does that girl in her shabby dress look so much like a lady that I am afraid of insulting her by words that seemed so easy to say awhile ago I' Softened though Caleb was, he was still a grim, hard old man, and his mind had been made up too firmly to change it now. He opened his lips, closed them again, and cleared his throat, and began : Miss Alice Lee, I have something to say to you. I shall make you angry, I suppose, but I can't help it. You'll please to attend to me.' She did not look at him but stood star ing, in an awful manner, from the window. I'm speaking to You. Do you hear me the old man repeated; but before the words had left his lips, Alice had turned and caught him by the arm, and then with an awful roar, like the voice of some fiend, an explosion which shook the house, a chorus of wailing screams and groans, and then a terrible silence. There were great black torrents of smoke pouring from the windows of the factory, and the wall toward the side where most of the great engines were, bulged, and tottered,' and fell, and the roof caved in, and before them in an instant, ai though some fiend had been at work, stood a ruin, black and horrible, smoking and steaming mass, and seeming with its awful yawning jaws to groan and scream. And from the lips of the father and those of the betrothed maiden broke one word, simultaneously— , Harry It united them in their great love and ' terror. They clung together, feeling the link between them for the first time. Both loved hiin, and he—oh ! what was he now! a living breathing being or, a mass of crushed flesh, senseless, helpless, lost to them forever I Together they rushed out into the open air, seeking him or what re mained of him. Oh, the awful sight that summer sun shone upon! Men, dead and dying, crushed and mutilated, lay stretched upon the ground. The women of the village came into the streets, some with their bare arms wet with soap-suds, some with " babies on their bosoms, wailing and shrieking, sob bing and fainting, clinging to c6rpses which an hour before had been breathing men, peering with livid faces into horrible black hollows in the wall whence hands and feet protruded, listening for groans under those piles of rubbish, that they might hear the voice of some loved one amid those awful sounds ; and there amidst the ruins of his mighty factory, stood the old man, calling aloud for help to save• his Harry. 4 There is no hope for' him, sir,' said one of the few workmen who remained unhurt. He was in the cellar. He went down to see what was the matter, when the odd noise first began, and never came up again.' Hush !' cried the old man. Do you dare to tell me there is no hope. They BEALL save Harry !' And then turning to the trembling girl beside him, he re peated in a caressing way, 'Never fear, my lass, they shall save my Harry ; and he shall have you or what else he likes. I'll never thwart him again. But if there's a God above us, he'll save my Harry.' This was the burden of his talk, while laborers were hard at work digging away the rubbish and bringing out dead bodies by the score. Men ground to pulpy hor rors ! beautiful girls with torn limbs ! and children so alike in this awful death that every one was claimed and struggled for twenty mothers. All day long they dug and lifted iron weights and masses of stone, but there was no sign of Harry's body yet. At the bottom of that awful pile no doubt he lay mangled into shapelessness. Alice knew that it must be so, but the old man kept saying, still— , They shall save Harry.' Dusk had come, and they worked by torch-light - now. All had been found dead or dying, wounded and maimed. They were carried to their homes. Yet still the crowd was thick about the ruin, waiting for the moment when what was left of Harry Graymarsh should be brought into the open air. An awful silence prevailed, only the click of spade and pickaxe broke it. Suddenly there was a shout, a lifting of those hundred voices. They had came to '\he lower door of the building, and part of it remained entire. There was a little hope ; yes, more than a little ; for listen ing, they heard a faint voice calling to them, so it seemed, though the words were inaudible. Faster now—there are great rafters to lift, and piles of stones and ma chinery to east out. But that voice in spires them. They worked as they never worked before, and at last they hear the cry again. It comes from the part of the cellar where the floor remains. And one great man, crouching on his face, forces himself down into the blackness and screams— , Who is there P And the answer is returned from the awful cavern—' Harry Graymarsh. Help me if you can.' Then the men came out with a glorious shout, and set to work like giants ; and even women came to help, as they thought of the fair young face buried in that dark ness He may be maimed and wounded, I but at least he lives. And the is no pause, jno respite from that toil. At another time many there would faint beneath it, but not now, for every lifted stone brings them closer to the buried man, and gives him a I firmer lease on life. As the morning broke the last is heaved aside, and the bronzed giant, who before crept into the cavern, leaps down now and vanished in the shadow. Silence, in which you might hear a pin fall or a heart beat--silence that freezes the blood—and then, breaking upon- it, a woman's scream ; a shriek from the lips of Alice, as they bring in the form of her lover, blood-stained and senseless, to the light. Not dead ! oh, no ! she thanked God for that. The great beams had pro tected him. .He was bruised and wounded, but not mortally, and in a little while his blue eyes open, and his pale lips whispered, 6 Father !' Then the old factor kneeling by his child as he had knelt upon his dead wife's grave so long ago, took the white hand of Alice in his own and placed it in his son's. 'She is yours,' he said ; take her Harry and be happy. Wealth isn't worth as much as love. I should have known that all along, remembering Hetty. Live Harry ! only live ! and never do anything to grieve you !' And Harry did live. Long before the winter snows had come, he stood—a little paler and thinner than before, perhaps, but well and strong again—before the altar of the little church, with Alice by his side, and, that night when the moon was high and no one watched him but the angels, the old factor stood beside his Hetty's grave, and whispered words of yearning love, which told that the soul of the young lover only slumbered in its iron-bound case, and that when death should set it free it would rise, pure and unsullied, to meet its angel wife in heaven. A FRANK ADMISSF , N.—BiIIy Ross is a great temperance lecturer, and at Rush ville, Illinois, was preaching to the young on his favorite theme. He said : Now, boys, when I ask you a question you musn't be afraid to speak right out and answer me. When you look around and see all these fine houses, farms, and cattle, do you ever think who owns them all now I Your fathers own them, do they not V Yes, sir !' shouted a hundred voices. c Well, where will your fathers be in twenty years from now ?' c Dead !' shouted the boys. c That's right. And who will own all this property then V c Us boys !' shouted the urchins. Right. Now, tell me—did yon ever, in going about the streets, notice the drunkards lounging around the saloon doors, waiting for somebody to treat them?' Yes, sir, lots of them !' 4 Well, where will they be in twenty years from now 'l' Dead !' exclaimed the boys. And who will be the drunkards then Us boys ! ' Billy was thunderstruck for a moment ; but recovering himself, tried to tell the boys how to escape such a fate.—Harper's Monthly. SHARP RETORT.-TWO young ladies were riding in a car. One of them, with features remarkable for a prominence of nose, exhibited to the other a photograph of herself, and they were engaged in dis cussing its merits when an elderly lady got in. After a while she reached out her hand, and said to the lady with the picture Please to let me look at it V Her modest request was met with the indignant reply It is none of your business.' The old lady settled back .in her seat very complacently, when the companion of the one, with the picture asked : What do you want with it Oh ! nothing,l replied the old lady; I only wanted to see how successfully the artist, has put such a large nose on so small a picture: A TRUE INCIDENT.—' Do you see this look of hair?' said an old man to me. 4 Yes ; but what of it 1 It is, I suppose, a curl from the head of a dear child long since gone to God.' ,It is not. It is a look of my own hair ; and it is nearly seventy years since it was cut from this head.' , 13,ut why do you prize a look of your hair.so much?' 4 It has a story to it and a strange one. I keep it thus with care because it speaks to me of God and of His special care, more than anything else I possess. I was a little child of four years old, with long, curly locks, which in sun, rain or wind hung doWn my cheeks uncovered. One day, my father went into the woods to cut upon a log, and I-went with him, and watched with interest the strokes of the heavy axe, as it went up and down upon the wood, sending off splinters in all direc tions with every stroke. Some of the splinters fell at my feet, and I eagerly stooped to pick them up. In doing so I stumbled forward, and in a moment my curly head lay upon the log. 61 had fallen just at the moment when the axe was coming -down with all its force. It was too late to stop the blow. Down came the axe. 1 screamed, and my father fell to the ground in terror. He could not stay the stroke, and in the blindness which the sudden horror had caused, he thought he had killed his boy. We soon recovered—l from my fright and he from his terror. He caught me in his arms, and looked at me from head to foot, to find out the deadly wound which he was sure he had inflicted. Not a drop of blood nor a scar was to be seen. He knelt upon the grass and gave thanks to a gracious God. Having done so, he took up his axe and found a few hairs upon the edge. He turned to the log he had been cutting, and there was a single curl of his boy's hair sharply cut through and laid upon the wood. How great the escape ! It was as if an angel had turned aside the edge at the moment it was descending on my head. With renewed thanks upon his lips, he took up the curl and w',nt home with me in his arms. The lock he kept all his days as a memorial of God's care and love. That lock he left me on his death-bed.' TO-DAY AND To-Mourtow.—Half the griefs of the world are ideal. No matter to what rank of life a man belongs, unless he possess a remarkably contented quality of mind, he is perpetually annoyed with small sorrows, arising from the anticipation of evils which, in fact, never dome to pass. At the end of any year, he can look back, if he choose, and count his hours by the score, spent in this manner over ideal misfortunes. And it is exactly the same thing with our moments of happine'ss ; for 6 oar never is, but always to be blest ;' and how much of our enjoyment is occa— sioned by the expectation of pleasurable events which always fail to occur ! As a certain bishop once said to a sprig of no— bility, who asked for the loan of rural villa the reverend gentleman never used :- 6 Sir, don't you know it is necessary to have a place where you never go—a place in which you fancy you might be ever hap py, if you were there ; but from which you absent yourself because you won't be ?' And the bishop in that remark anounced a great truth ; for delight, as well as sor row, lies too much in what is never reali zed. Common sense, fair reader, ought to take a solid hint from this fact. In chil dren's language ' never grieve over spilt milk,' and never over what may occur.— The past is irretrievable, and the future brings trouble enough of its own. Enjoy the present in its innocence as far as cir cumstances may permit. To-day is cer tainly your's, to-morrow may not be. WHAT OUGHT TO BE.-A gentleman' traveling in New Hampshire, within sight the Monadnock, was struck with the healthy appearance of a family where he called. On asking his faimer host what might be the cause, he received this reply: They have neither been brought np on unwholesome diet, nor subject to unwhole some modes of dress, nor kept from daily exercise in the open air. They have drank neither tea nor coffee, nor lived on any other than plain and simple food.— Their dress has never been so tight as to hinder free respiration. They have exer cised every day in the open air, assisting me in tending my fruit trees, and in such other occupations as are appropriate, for women.' How many there are who would be ben efited by such a course, as well among our farmers as in the city. The open air is a great panacea far many diseases. It is cheap and ever present. Don't refuse to take it.--- t jr. H. Journal rqgriculture. A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING.—' Oh, I love you like everything,' said a young man to his sweetheart, warmly pressing her hand. Ditto,' said she, very gently.retarning the pressure, The ardent lover, not hap pening to be over learned, was sorely puzzled to understand the meaning of dit to, but was ashamed to expose his igno rance by asking the girl. He went home; and the next day, being at work in the cabbage-yard with the father he spoke out— & Daddy, what's the meaning of ditto 1' Why,' said the old man, this here is one cabbage-head, ain't it & Yes, daddy.' Well, that ar's ditto.' Rot that ar' good-for-nothing gal !' ejaculated the indignant son, she called me a cabbage-head, and I'll never go ,to see her again,' and fortunately for the 05 . 1 he kept his word. How TO BE HANDSODIE.--It is perfect ly natural for all women to be beautiful. If they are not so, the fault lies in their birth, or training, or in both. We would, therefore, respectfully remind mothers that in Poland a period of childhcod is recog nized. They are not sent from the cradle direct to the drawing room to dress, sit still, and look pretty. 'During childhood, which extends through. a period of several years, they are plainly and loosely dressed, and allowed to run, and romp, and play in the open air. They take in sunshine as does the flower. Plain, simple food, free and various exercise, abundant shnnshine, and good moral culture during the whole period of childhood, are the secrets of beauty in after life. lC Bishop Hall says : Our idle days are Satan'm busy days. A HEAVY CONTRAOT.—Over the line of Canada they are as inquisitive as their Yankee neighbors. Some years since tho Receiver General was travelling on a steamboat with considerable funds, and for the sake of safety and privacy he engaged the whole of the ladies' cabin. The pas sengers were all sure to ascertain the rea son of this arrangement, and especially to know the business the. great man could have on hand to require so muoh room and money. At length one of them more bold than the rest, ventured to introduce the subject, as the Receiver was walking the deck, and approaching him, asked if he was engaged on a Government contract. Yes. A very large one V Yes.' Well, pray sir, what is it?' Why, yon see," said the Receiver, the Queen of England, has made a pres ent to the King of Siam of her half of Lake Ontario, and I am engaged to bottle it off.' No more questions asked. A DELICATE MAN.—A country magis trate, noted for his love of the pleasures of the table, speaking to a friend, said : We have just been eating a superb turkey; it was excellent, stuffed with truffles to the neck, tender, delicate, and of high flavor ; we left only the bones.' How many of you were there ?' was asked. Two,' replied the magistrate Two?' Yes, the turkey and myself.' rig LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER JOB PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT, No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA. , The Jobbing Department is thoroughly furnished with new and elegant type , of every description, and is under the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer.— The Proprietors are prepared to PRINT CHECKS, • NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS, CARDS AND CIRCULARS, BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS, PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING, • with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasons', ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by any establish ment in he city. Ire Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise, promptly attended to. Address GEO. SANDERSON A. SON, Intelllgencer Office, No. 8 North Dnke street, Lancaster, Pa. CONSCRIPTION, SCROFULA, ItLIEUMATIBSI, &a. LIEGE:MAN k CO.'S GENUINE COD LIVER OIL has been proved by nearly '2O years' experience the beet remedy for CONSUMPTION, ke., and while it cures the disease it gives flesh and strength to the patient. See that you get the genuine. Sold by Druggists generally. -- EIEGEMAN .t CO dee 9 3m 48] Chemiits and Druggiat, Non York pHO TOGIi. AP A If IN ALL ITS BRANCHES. Executed in the best style known in the art, et C. G. CRANE'S GALLERY 632 ARCH STREET, EAST OE SESTII, PHILADELPHIA. LIFE SIZE IN OIL AND PASTIL. STEREOSCOPIC PORTRAITS, .Arnbrotypes, Daguerreotypes, Ac., for Cases, Medallions ns, Rings. Ar. ['mar 19 21y U NITED STATES STAMP TAXES POSED BY TIIE ACT OF 1862. Published for the convenience of STOREKEEPERS, )IERCLIANT:3, BROKERS, LAWYERS, CONVEYANCERS and the public generally, on a large neat card showing at a glance, the amount of duty on tax to be paid. Price 10 .3)0 For sale by J. M. WESTUAEFFER, • No 41, Corner of North Queen and Orange streets. ccti tf 3 FARDIER'S'UNION HOTEL, N 0.929 MARKETSTREET, Botweeer-9Wand luth, J. C. EWING and J. H. KURTZ, Proprietors. BOARDERS accommodated on reasonable terms, and transient customers at $l,OO per day. /Or Stabling for Seventy Five Horses. IEIR July 15 THE: PEOPLE'S HAT AND CAP B TORE. SHULTZ .4 BRO., UMEMMM3 No. 20 NORTH QUEEN STREET, LANCASTER, PA The subscribers are desirous to Inform their Customers sod the Public generally, that the:r 'preparations of a large assortment of fine SOFT FELT AND SILK HATS, adapted for Spring and Summer wear, have been com pleted; the same comprise; the richest and most beautiful shades of color and style, which taste and long experience could produce. Is our assortment will be found all the Newest Styles of SILK, CASSIMERE AND SOFT HATS, S TRAW HATS. every Style and Quality for Gentlemen's and Boys' Wear A full line of CHILDREN'S STRAW GOODS. SUMMER STYLE CAPS. In conclusion we would return our sincere thanks for past favors, and trust by upvaried exertions, attention and dispatch to me, it its continuance. JOHN A. SHULTZ, HENRY A. SHULTZ. may 27 tf 20 USEFUL. PRESENTS FOR CHRIST DIAS AND NEW YEAR. LENTZ BROTHERS, Offer unusual Inducements to enable all to make a Usefu present for the Holidays. CLOAK AND SHAWL ROOM. Contains a large variety of LADIES' CLOTH CLOAKS, LATZST 'STILES. SHAWLS! SHAWLS!! Long and Square, Ladles', Misses and Gents' DRESS GOODS, New Styles Received Daily. BALMORAL SKIRTS. The Largest Variety of HOOP SKIRTS ever offered in Laneaste Large Asaortment BEAUTIFUL NUBIMI, HOODS, SONTAG?, ac., Ica GLOV-I3S AND HOSIERY. SOLDIERS' GUM AND ARMY BLANKETS. Remember, now's the time for Presents of Eras, and the place to get a Cloak, a Dress, a Balmoral, a Hoop Skirt, or any other article for a Useful Present. is WENTZ BROTHERS. No. 5, East King stieet, Sign of the "Bee Hive." rlec 23 tf 50 VAN INGER A. SNYDER, DESIGNERS AND ENGRAVERS ON WOOD, N. E. COHN= 6TH 050 CHEST:TIM Sxnrars, PHILADELPHIA. Execute all kinds of-WOOD ENGRAVING, with beauty, correctness and defrpatch—Original Destgne furnished for Fine Book Illustration's—Persons wishing Cuts, by sending a Photograph or Daguerreotype, can have views of COLLEGES, CHURCHES, COTT&GES, STORE FRONTS, PORTRAITS, - MACHINES, STOVES, PATENTS, ko. Engraved as well as on peisional application. - FANCY ENVELOPES, LABELS, BILL HEADINGS, 8110 W BILLS, VISITING, BUSINESS and other CARDS, engraved In the highest style of the Art, and at the lowest prices. For Specimens of Fine Engraving, see the Illustrated Works of J. B. LIPPINCOTT k Co., E. H. BUTLER & &c., As. font 231 y 41 CTY. V.I. t, R CHAPPELL'S HYPERION FOR CURLING THE HAIR. The Ladles and Gentlemen throughout the world will be pleased to learn that I have recently discovered an article that will Curl the Hair. By using CLIAPPELL'B HYPERION, Ladies and Gentle• en ceo beautify themselves a thousandfold: • CHAPPELL'S. HYPERION in the only,artiele in the orld that will Carl straight Hair. The oaty article that ill Carl the Hair IN BEAUTIFUL CURLS! IN GLOSSY CURLS I IN SILKEN CURLS!' • • ; IN FLAXEN CURLS IN FLOWING CURLS! IN WAVING CURLS It makes the Hair soft and glossy. • It invigorates the Hair. It beautifies the Hair.- It cleanses the Hair. It has a moat delightful perfume. • • • It prevents the Hair from falling off; it fastens It to the scalp. It is the only article ever yet disoovered that will curl straight Hair in beautiful corky without Injury to the Hair or scalp. The IIYPERIOti does not in any manner interfere 'with the NATURAL SOFTNESS OP THE-HAIR. It neither scorchee nor driee it. The HYPERION ca n b e so applied as to name the Hair to earl for one day, or for one week; or for one month, or any longer period desired. The HYPERION is the - only article in the world but what can be counterfeited or imitated by uprincipled per sons. To prevent this, we do not offer it for sale at any Druggist's In the United:, States: • • • , Therefore, any Lady, or Gentleman who desires!' to beautify themselvMs by using tbe HYPERION,' must in close the PRICE, ONE DOLLAR, in .13 letter, -and • , Address, W. CHAPPELL & - • - 54; Parkman,"Geanga Co, Ohio, And.lt.wlli be eansfully sent by return mall. nor 12 ' F -4141 ' A =i rt an i s = iaao ir cref, RorAltiaCgtiffieipi t - nr remiftl_ 1 araitatttldel; W= i ; e,ti = . I 4.7. 3 11; /.7 IPHE HORACE WATERS MODERN IMPROVED. OVER/MONO BABB 113 LL IRON . FRAME PIANOS are Justly pronounced by the Press and - Mulde Blasters to be superior Instruments. They are built of the but and most thoroughly seasoned materials, and-will stand any climate. The tone is very deep, round, full and. mellow; Abe touch elaatic. Each Piano warranted for three years. Prices from $175 to $7OO. °PUMPS or sus Prises.—'. The Horace Waters Pianoiare known as among the very best. We are enabled spe,dt of these instruments with some degree of confidence, from personal knowledge of their excellent -tone and durable quality."—Christian Inteiligeneer. $ 1 5 0 .—NEW 7-OCTAVE PIANOS in liosewood cases; Iron frames, and overetrung bass, of different makers, for $150; do, with mouldings, $160; do., with carted legs and inlaid nameboard, $175, $lB5, and $200; , do., with pear, keys, $225, $250 and $200; new Eiji octavei $155f.dd;,..6 octave, $l4O. The above p ianos are fully warrantedi. a n _ are the greatest bargains that. can be found in tbir Please call and see them, Second.hand Pianos at $25,840 $ 50 ,5 60 , $75, and $lOO, THE HORACE TrATEES MELODEONS, Rosewood Cases, Tuned the Equal Temperament, with the Patent Divided Swell and Solo Stop. Prices from fils to VOO. Organ Harmoniums with Pedal Bass, $260,1276' and $3OO. School Harmoniums, $4O, $6O, $BO and $lOO. Also,— Melodeons and Harmonenms of the followinivnealesiler Prince & Co's, Carhart A Needham, Mason. A Hamlin, and .. S.D.& Smith, all of which will be sold at eitremel7 4 low prices.. These Melodeons reinain.in a longSfme.. Each Melodeon warranted for three years. tang . , • 4sl A liberal discount to Clergymen, Churches, Sabbajh Schools, Lodges, Seminaries and Teachers. The trade supplied on the most liberal terms. THE DAY SCHDOL..A.ELL. 35,000 COPIES ISSUED. A new Singing Book for Day Schools, called' the Day School Bell, is now ready. It contains about 200 choice, songs, rounds, catches, duetts, trios, quartette -. and oh'or• uses, many of them written expretaly tor tbla.work, sides 32 pages of the Elements of Music. The Elements are so essy and progressive, that, ordinary teachers' find themeelves entirely successful in instructing even young scholars to sing correctly and ecientifirallyr while • the tunes and words embrace such a variety of lively, ,at, tractive, and soul-stirring music and sentiments, that-no' trouble will be experienced In inducing all beginners to' go on with zeal In acquiring skill in one oltbe most health-giving, beauty-improving, happiness-yielding, and, order-producing exercises of school life. In simplicty of its elements, In variety and adaptation of music, and in • excellence and number of its songs, original, selected, and adapted, it claims by much to excel all competitors: It " will be found the beet ever issued for seminaries, &cede. miss and public schools. A few sample pages of the ale ments, tunes and songs, are given Ina circular.;. send and get ens. , I 3 ! h compiled by a li n o d rce wb 7i i ' c a l lers, v a e n t l i h i l it tlf enormous sole of 735,000 copies. Prices—paper cover, 20 cents, $l5 per 100; bound, 30 cents, $22 r er 100; cloth bound, embossed gilt, 45 cents, $3O per 1017. 25 copleafur• niched at the 100 price. Mailed at the retail 'price.. SABBATH SCHOOL BELL No. 2, 85,000 COPIES ISSUED. • It is an entire new work of nearly 200 pages. Many of the tunes and hymns were written expressly for this• vol ume. It will Coon be as popular as its predeceirsori4tell No. 1) which has no up to the enormous number of 650, 000 copies—outstripping any Sunday school book of it size ever ',sued in this country.. Also, both volumes are boned in one to accommodate schools wishing them in that form. Prices of Bell N 0.2, paper Covers, 15 cents, $l2 per 100; bound, 25 cents, $lB per 100; cloth bound, em bossed gilt, 30 cents, $23 per 100. BeIPNO. 1, paper covens, 13 cents, $lO per 100; bound, 20 cents,, $lB per 100; cloth bound, embossed gilt, 28 cents, $2O per hundred. Belle Nos. 1 and 2 bound togother.,4o cents, $3O per 100 „cloth bound, embussed gilt, 50 cents, $4O per 100. 26 copies fur nished at the 100 price. Mailed at the ratall'iricst.' HORACE WATERS, Publisher, 481 Broadway, New York. President Lincoln's Grand March, with the beet Vignette of his Excellency that has yet been published; music by flelmsruuller, leader of the 22d Regiment Bind, price 50 cents. Our Generals' Quick-Step, with vignette of 35 of our generals; music by Gralona, leader of the 7th Regiment Bnrid.fiOneuts. The Seven Bone' Gallop, and Lanra Keene Waltz, 35 cents each. Comet Schottische, 25 cents; all by Baker. Mu•ic 800 Gallop, by Herring, 05 cents. Union Waltz, La Gramm, 25 -cent, Volunteer Polka, Goldbeck, 25 crate. Spirit Polka; General Scott's Farewell Grand March, 25 cents each ; Airy Castles, 30 cents, all by A. E Parkhurst. Freedom, Truth and Right Grand March, with splendid vignette; music by Carl LIALIOM2III, 60 cta All of which are Hue productions. ' I will be true to thee; A penny for your 'itioughta ; Lit tle Jenny Dow; Batter times are coming; I.dream of my mother and my home; Merry little birds aro we, (a song for childten ;) Slumber, my darling, Lizzie dine to-night, Jenny's coming o'er the green; Was my Brother in the Battle, and Why have my loved ones gone; by Stephen 0. Foster. Flied we know each other there? by the Rev. R. Lowry. Pleasant words for all, by J. Roberts. There ta a beautiful world, by I M. Holmes. Price 25 cents each Freedom, Troth and Right, a national song and grand chorus; music by Carl Heinemann, with English and her. man words, 30 cents:- Where•liberty dwells is my country, Plumley. Forget if you can, but forgive; I bear sweet voices ,inging, and Home Is home, by J. R. Thomas, 30 cents each. These songs are vary popular. Mailed free at retail price. Foreign Sheet Music at 2 ceute per page. All Made o Magic merchandise at war prices. HORACE WATERS, Publisher, 481 Broadway, New York IN CHEAP PORN, AsRANUED AS QUARTETTES AND CHORUSES PO Shall we know each other there ; 'Shall Womeat beyond the river ? Be in time; There is a beautiful world; Don't you hear the Angels coming; Whereliberty dwells is my country ; Freedom, Truth and Right; (national songs.) Is there a laud of love ? Sorrow shall come again no more. Price 3 cents, 25 cents per doz., $2 per 100. Pdetage 1 cent. In sheet form, with Piano accompaniment, 25 cents. Published by HORACE WATERS, 481 Broadway, New York, and for sale by N. P. Kemp, Boston ; Chas. B. Luther, Philadelphia; G. Crosehy, Cincinnati;' Tomlinson & Bros., Chicago, and J. W. Mclntyre, St. Louis. July 29 0m69 T HE. WEEKLY THE ONLY DEMOCRATIC PAPER PUBLISHED A FORTY-FOUR COLUMNS OF BEADING MATTER EACH. WEEK I AT THE LOW PRICE OF ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS P- - 'WHEN SUBSCRIBED FOR IN CLUBS OF - NOT LESS THAN TEN COPIES TO ONE ADDRESS! We have been compelled to.ralse the club anbscriptlon price to one dollar and and fifty cents in order tosave our selves from actual loss. Paper baa risen, Including taxes, about twenty five per cent., and still rising; and when we tell our Democratic friends, candidly, that we can no longer afford to sell the Weekly PATRIOT AND 'Drum at one dollar a year, and must add fifty cents orstop the publica tion, no tryst they will appreciate our position, and, In stead of withdrawing their subscriptions, go to work with a will to increase our lint in every county in the State. We have endeavored, and shall continue' our efforts, to make the paper useful as a party organ, and welcome as a news messenger to every family. We flatter ourselves that It has not been without some 'influence in producing the glorious revolution In the politics of the State achieved at the late election ; and If fearlessness in the discharge of duty, fidelity to the principles of the party, and anxious desire to promote its interests, with some experience and a moderate degree of ability, can be made serviceable herez,/ after, the Weekly PATRIOT AND 1,11110R;Win fist bales. use;, fni to the party or less welcome to the family circle In the future than it has been in the past. , 'We confidently look for increased encouragement in We great enterprise, and appeal to every influential Democrat in the State to lend us hie aid In running our subscription list up to twenty or thirty thousand. The expense to each-individual Is trifling, the benefit to the party may be great. Believing that the Democracy of the State feel the necessity otimstaining a fearless central organ, we make this appeal to them for as sistance with the fullest confidence of success. The same reasons which induce us to ratio the price the Weekly, operate In regard to the Daily paper, the price or which le also increased.. The additional cost to each subscriber will be but trifling; and, while we cannot per suade ourselves that the change necessarily made will re• soli in any diminution of our daily circulation, yet, were we certain that each would be the consequence, we would still be compelled to make it, or suffer -a ruinous loss. Undef these circumstances we must dire* ourselves upon the generosity, or, rather, the justice of the public, and abide their verdict, whatever it may rbe. ; The period for which many of our eubscrib,erehave paid for their paper being on the ere of-eapiring, , ;We' take the liberty nr issuing this notice, reminding themef the same, in order that they may RENEW THEIR We shall else take it as an especial favbr if present subscribers will urge sport' their neightirra the fact that the PAralor AND UNION is the only Democratic paper printed in Harrisburg, end considering the large amount of read. tug matter, embracing all the current news of the day, and TELEGRAPHIC( DISPATCHES from everywhere np to the moment the paper goes to press, political, miscellaneous; general and local riews market re ports, Is decidedly the - - - • •• - - - • • • - - • - --••- There is scarcely a village or fawn in the State in which a club cannot be raised if the proper elertion be made, and surely there are few plaices in whfch'one or more energetic men cannot be bound who are Int/Ivor of the dissernination of sound Democratic doctrines, who would be willing to make the effort to raise a club. _ - - let us hear from you : The existing War - iind the approach ing session of the Congress and state .111trislatrnit, aro 4n veated with unusual interest, and every man should hive the news. DAILY PATRIOT AND ORION. Single copy for one year, in advance Single copy during the session of the Legislature:Li. IGO ' City subscribers ten cents per week. - --- Copies supplied to agents at the . rateef $1 per hiindead. WEEKLY PA TRIOT .A.II7D'OXION. ;,IN LUXURIANT CURLS PICIII.7B4ZD EMIT Tatrupir. Single copy for 000 year, In'advance..— Ton copies to onertddrese..— - • Subscriptions may commence at any lime. PAY WAYS IN ADVANCE. We are obliged' to matethli 181 1,7 " partitive In tray instance cosh must accoMixMlf Vert() Sion. Any persch - sending sicitib of twenty:au ri e to the Weekly will be entitled to -a copy for. his minim. The price, area at the edvanee rate,„ ao)lfw Ertve can not offer greater Inducements -their tbisi—Adtheons may be made at any time to a club of.subscribens byefserupititig one dollar and arty cents for each additithail not necessary to send us the naniiM of tht* itriatitaguliecl club,"as we cannot Undertake' to each paper to club Imbacribersseparately: Specimen coping of theW66ll# Oil ' will be seat to all who desire noy 4 5t 43] n. I L S —CastorCOLViiveirt -01.1,011 0 1 1.1 8y.1:p3, STONE, B.EN BABBABRMEI,e,„ Pare at 031 AS Budommilwi: 7 ad a, ; kr, a 6010 W Store Nest.Kinf i gtreot rT fikity. I t., • , . TIMPICODU WINES ANDAI VO. r, ler froillt*ond ' 1 "!-LVrit ' 6 " 1 ")" .6Qtf4 9 • th J 951013 NO. 4. HORACE WATERS, PabHeber,. 481 Broadway, New York NEW INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC NEW VOCAL myslo NEW MUSIC FOR THE MILLION, MUSICAL SOCIETIZA CHOIRS, SUNDAY SCHOOLS, PUBLIC SCHOOLS, SEMINARIES. ETC. "PATRIOT ct UNION,' THE CHEAPEST PAPER PUBLUSELED IN pENNSY LVANIA I AND VIE SEAT OF GOVERNMENT! NEWSPAPER PUBLISHED IN rg:mmm DEMO - 911:ipi OB ;illll.3l4T.*Pni.l TERMS 0. anaustm R • brazil+ ... - . - .a.00 :
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers