OL. LXIV
rriz LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
=Rum IVZBT Tl7ll3Dkr, AT so. 8 Noma DITEI STEU
BY GEO. SANDERSON. •
TEEMS.
•
firnittartniox.—Two Dollars. per annum, payable In ad
mace. No subscription discontinued until arresp
ages are paid, unless at the option of t h ee E t
AlWZMlSlKlN.2B.—Advertisements, not exceeding one
•squure, (1.2 Unes,) will be Inserted three times for one
dollar, and twenty-flve cents for each additional inser
tion. Those of greater length in prophrtion.
Jos Pstermsd,Such as Hand Bille t Posters, PaMphlete,
Blanks, Labels, ke., ,tc, executed with accuracy and on
the mbortest notice•
THE BOY AND HIS ANGEL.
" Oh, mealier, I've been with an angel to-day!
I was out,
all alone, in the forest at play,
Chasing after the butterflies, watching the bees,
Aud hearing the woodpecker tapping the trees;
So I played, and I played, till, no weary I grew,
I eat down to rest in the shade-al a yew,
While the birds sang so sweetly high up on its top,
I held my breath, mother, for fear they would stop!
Thus a long while I sat, looking up to the sky,
And watching the clouds that west hurrying by,
When I heard a voice calling just over my head,
That sounded as if, come, oh brother !' it said;
And there, right.up over the top of the tree,
Oh, mother, au angel was beek'ning to me!
" And brother !' once more, come, oh brother !' he
cried,
And flew on light pinions close down by my Bide !
And, mother, oh. never was being so bright,
As the one whioh then beamed on my wondering
sight!
His face was as fair as, the delicate shell,
His hair down his shoulders in long ringlets fell,
While the eyes resting on me, so melting with love,
Were as soft and as mild as the eyes of a dove !
And somehow, dear mother, I felt not afraid,
As his hand on my brow be caressingly laid,
And whispered so softly and gently to me,
'Come, brother, the, angels are waiting for thee !'
" And then on my forehead he tenderly pressed
Suchsses—oh, mother, they thrilled through my
- breast,
B As swittly as lightning leaps down from on high,
When the chariot of God rolls along the black sky !
While his breath, floating round me, was soft as the
breeze
That played in my tresses, and rustled the trees;
At last on my head a deep blessing he poured,
Then plumed his bright pinions and upward he
soared!
And up, up he went, through the blue sky, so far,
Ile seemed to float there like a glittering star,
Yet still my eyes followed his radiant fl ght,
Till, lost in the azure, he passed from my eight:
Then, oh, how I feared, as I caught the last gleam
Of his vanishing form, it was only a. dream!
When soft voices whispered once more from the tree,
'Come, brother, the angels are waiting for thee !' "
Oh, pale grew that mother, and heavy her heart,
For she knew her fair boy from this world must de
part!
That his bright locks must fade in the (last of the
tomb,
Ere the autumn winds withered the summer's rich
bloom !
Oh, how his young footsteps she watched, day by day,
As his delicate form wasted slowly away,
Till the soft light of heaven seemed shed o'er his
face,
And he crept up to die in her loving embrace !
"Oh, clasp me, dear mother, close, close to your
breast,
On that gentle pillow again let me rest!
Let me once more gaze up to that dear, loving eye,,
And then, oh, methinks, I can willingly die !
Now kiss me, dear mother ! oh. quickly ! for see
The bright; blessed angels are waiting for we!"
Oh, wild was the anguish that swept through her
breast,
As the long, frantic kiss on his pale lips she pressed!
And felt the vain search of his soft; pleading eye,
As it strove to meet her's ere the fair boy could die.
" I see you not, mother, for darkness and night
Are hiding your dear, ;riving face from piy sight,—
But I bear your low sobbings—dear mother, good
bye!
The angels are ready to bear me on high !
I will wait for you there,—but oh, tarry not long,
Lest grief at your absence should sadden my song!"
Re ceased, and his hands meekly clasped on his
breast,
tures.
While hie sweet face sank down on its pillow of rest,
You have learned nothing new, I pre-
Then, closing his eyes now all rayless and dim,
Went up with the angels that waited for him ! some, Mr. Wright,' said she. But there
is a certain adage about eaves-droppers
HATTIE'S HATRED. that I would recommend to your leisure.
I never look ridiculous,' cried Hattie
Besides, when you enter a room where peo
le are talking about What you ought not
Hall, but some one appears to whom I P
BM particularly anxious to look my best, to hear, please cough, clear your throat, or
There I was—sleeves rolled up to the
give some , other indication of your august
elbows—hair in anything but disgraceful presence.
disorder, washing the parlor windows, and And she saucily tossed her bead.
singiug as loudly as my lungs would ad-
My 'dear Miss Hall,' said Frank, ad
mit, when who should walk in. sans cere-
vancing towards her, I shall certainly
mo
strive to profit by your counsel ; neither
mows but Frank Wright. I haven't seen
him in four years, no' since I was fourteen, shall I regret having heatd your expressed
and he was just disagreeable enough to dislike of myself, since I trust it may
compliment me on my improved looks,
teach me how I may render myself less
're
glance maliciously at my rumpled locks pulsive to you. For, believe me,' be
and wet gown, while 1 stood looking just added, in tones intended for her ear only,
I cannot tell you how much I regret this
about as large as your little finger. Dun't
I bate him.' singular abhorrence you have ever mani-
Undoubtedly you do,' I replied, leis-
fested. Can. you not point out some method
rarely taking off my gloves. Mr. Wright
by which I may yet hope to -stand better
'
called at our house " a short time ago—he in your regard ? •
mentioned being here !' I did not hear the reply, as I was sum-
Mentioned being here !' Hattie re-
mooed to the kitchen at that moment.—
peated.Did he give you a graphic de-
But I have just foundations for believing
soription of my appearance? What did
that she did point out a way by which her
he say ?' esteem might be won ; for not long ago I
im
vanity, my dear,' I replied,
' I have no idea of ministering to your saw her and Frank standing in close pr
imity, while a venerable looking man but I really
pro
regret that you are ashamed of having pounded certain momentous questions,
been surprised in useful employment. Why which Frank answered frankly and dis-
I fancied you were rather proud of your
tinotly, and Hattie's replies, though low,
kousekeeping qualities ; not every young I were quite satisfactory.
lady that plays the piano can manufacture Neither could I discover any of the old
• maliciousness peeping out of her saucy
as savory dishes as you can.'
Housekeeping qualities, indeed !' ex-
eyes ; only love and trust welled up from
claimed Hattie in a vexed tone. 'A good
their subdued depths; and from that hour
housekeeper never neglects her own per-
I became thoroughly convinced that a
son.' woman's heart cannot always be judged
by her words.
But, Hattie,' I urged, 'one cannot ex
pect to find one's friends en yrande toilette W ISE --
A REBER - E.—The following anec
while engaged in washing windoWs. dete is related of the late excellent Joseph
But my hair was in such dreadful dis- John Gurney, of Earlham, by one of his
order. You recollect what Mrs. Sigourney family circle :
says on that subject ; and mamma, who, One night, I remember it well, I re
in my opinion, is just as correct authority,
ceived severe lesson on the sin of evil
declares that no lady should appear at speaking. Severe I thought it then, and
the breakfast table until her hair is prop-' my heart rose in childish anger against
erly brushed and arranged. And, for once, him who gave it ; but I had not lived long
I neglected mine, because I had so much enough in this world to know how much
to do in order to enjoy an uninterrupted mischief a child's thoughtless talk may do,
tete-a-tete with you this afternoon.' and how often it happens that talkers run
You are looking your very best now, off the right line of truth. S. did not
Hattie,' 1 remarked, 'whatever your fore- stand very high in my esteem ; and 1 was
noon appearance may have been.' about to speak further of her failings of
'Oh, yes !' she replied. 'As uncle John temper. In a few moments my_eye caught
says—after the horse was stolen I locked such a look of calm and steady displeas
the barn. rare that I stopped short. There was no
Well, said I, 'play me something by mistaking the meaning of that dark speak
way of forgetting your unfortunate rent- 1 ing eye. It brought the color to my face,
eontre.' and confusion and shame to my heart. I
Hattie played exquisitely. She was just silent was for a few moments, when Joseph
dashing off one of my favorites when Frank • John
Dust
askmd very gravely :
Wright came in, with an apology for hay-
us
of
her?'
him
thou know anything good to tell
ing forgotten a commission entrusted to;
him for Hattie by his sister. Hattie nod-
I did not answer, and the qaestion was
ded, pointed to a chair, and demanded more
seriously asked
petnlently whether he was as charmed Think, is there nothing good thou
with her playing as he had been with her canst tell us of her
singing. 'Oh ves I know same good things, but,'
More Bo,' Mr. Wright had the candor
it not have been better, to re
to reply, late those good things than to have told
Alt! then I dare say you do not con- us that which would lower her in our es-,
eider me the sweetest singer in the teem 1 Since there is good to relate,
world wod it not be kinder to be silent on the-
Mr. Wright was positive, on reflection, evil? For charity rejoiceth not at iniquity'
that he bad listened to as good vocal efforts
as he had beard that morning. After
lingering as long as propriety would admit
of, Frank withdrew.
What a 'conceited puppy !' Hattie ex
claimed, as Boon as he bad gone. He
has not pocketed his first fee ; yet I sup
pose he thinks he has quite overwhelmed
us with his wit and wisdom.'
4 How.ungenerous you are,' said I, 'you
know you are thinking ndiv, away down
Your heart, how much tact and clever
semi he displayed, in warding off thel3bgta
- cifVidiodl - 0, - with9iikturning the pants_
maituayotutelf. Ailoaidea, he is 0011E4de-red
by wiser heads than ours, a young lawyer
of great promise. 'I heard father say, yes
terday, that he never listened to a more
able and touching appeal than his plea in
the Austin and Wilkins snit ; and he
gained - his cause too. So the widow and
orphans are not shelterless
" That was nothing,' Hattie maintained.
If he had been employed on the other
side it would have been the same thing.'
But be refused a' retaining fee on the
other side, and volunteered his services
to the poor widow.'
But Hattie would not believe it. Frank
had been so unfortunate as to surprise her
in questionable dishabille, and she could
not forget him. She never did like him
when she was a little girl,' she said. He
was infinitely more disagreeable now.'
Then why were you so particularly
anxious to appear your best before him
Oh ! he mentioned mein his letters to
Ellen, and Ellen had written back all sorts
of nonsense- about what she called my
beauty. Do you think I wish to -be can
vassed by a pair of malicious eyes, and
read in their ill-concealed expression.—
' This is not quite the Hattie that I ex
pected to see.' Not 1;'
Time passed. Ellen Wright and Hattie
Hall were friends, so it would not seem at
all singular if the former with her brother
should walk over to Mr. Hall's on fine
Sabbath evenings and the trio would wan
der away• to the graveyard, or to some
pretty retreat outside the village. I some
times accompanied them in these rural
rambles and soon learned that Hattie still
maintained her antagonistic position
towards Frank, never allowing any oppor,
tunity to pass without throwing porcupine
quills at him, opposing whatever he ad
vanced, even when his expressed opinions
('completely coincided with those I had
frequently heard her advocating.
Frank's equanimity was never disturbed
by this pretty sparring : indeed he seemed
rather to enjoy it. This only incensed
Hattie the more. lt.was,' she said, as
if she were not worth minding.'
Hattie,' said I, as she sauntered into
my sitting-room, one day, with her apron
full of flowers, and her hat swinging by
one ribbon over her shoulder, 'Frank
Wright must be ecntemplating matrimony.
Husband says the new house in progress
at the upper end of the street is his. I
wonder who the bride-elect can be, (Nara
Perkins, do you suppose
I am sure I do not know,' she replied.
6 Of one thing I am positive, however ;
shall not envy his wife, neither her new
house, nor her husband. You know that
I can't bear Frank Wright.'
I bad been telegraphing ever since she
ecmmenced, but she either would not or
could not understand my signs ; nor did
she manifest any embarrassment, when,
on turning around, she saw the object of
her spleen standing in the open doorway,
a very perceptible smile wreathing his fea
Come, Lenny, sing for us,' said her
mother, and no nonsense.'
So, Love not,' and The broken heart,'
were sung in an agonizing manner, and
then, at her father's request, 'Willy sang,
in blithe, sweet voice, some Scotch ballads,
after which Leonie and I wandered out on
the piazza to gaze at the moon.
The first evening will stand for a picture
of many more. The sentimental poetess
was right when she told me that no one
sympathized with her ; for all tried by
ridicule or more gentle warning, to bring
her from ber fancied heaven to the neglect
ed duties blocking up her path. I labored
in vain to win her a sister's gentle sympa
thy—Molly impenetrable. It was—
, Molly, walk with us on this lovely
morning to woo the gentle summer's air,
and seek, in the wood, the murmuring
brook and whispering foliage ?'
Can't indeed, Cousin Ned ; must help
mamma with the preserves.'
She was always busy. Leonie, who
never rose till ten o'clock, was ready for
my proposed stroll at any later hour, and
I forgot her .untidy dress, tumbled hair
and slip-shod feet, in the melodious voice,
the questioning sympathy, and the soft
flatteries of my blue-eyed cousin. Yet,
though I fancied I looked down upon the
common-place Molly, it was a pleasant
sight to meet her little, graceful figure,
always neat, whether in the tidy morning
chintz, or the lighter evening dress—a
pleasant sound to hear her cheerful voice—
s pleasant thing to note her ever busy fin
gers, always ready to lighten her mother's
cares, to give her father a pleasure, or re-
A calm, blue eyed, self-possessed;
spent pa room;
but
r part of her time in her own some negligence of her sister's. She
•
young lady, in a village g down east,' re
!ut th breakfast-table never waited r for
ceived a long call the other day, from a
her, and here was the first kiss to welcome
prying old spinister, ci‘o tifter prolonging her father's return at night.
her stay beyond her own conception,
I had been at my uncle's two weeks,
without speaking of the main question,
which had brought her thither, said : and had already decided that Leonie was
I have been asked a good many differ- my second self and my life a paradise or a
ent times it you were engaged to Dr. D. desert, according as she willed to accept
Now, if folks inquire again 'whether you or reject my hand, when, one day, waiting
are or not,' what shall. I tell them I think.' for Leonie to walk with pe, Mollie's voice
g Tell thein,' 'answered 'she, ''that ;you - • -
doiet t Iniew,,And•yon-ar ‘ e sure it is none of : 4 Edwin , ! Edwin !, nom here ! Hurry !
your 'business. Leone has-fiillen4
" THAT COUNTRY IS THII HOST PHOSPNBOUB WHIHNLABOB. OON:WirDB TH= GBIATIIBT BIWAND."- -BUCHANAN.
LANCASTER. CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNYNG, MARCH 24. i 863.
AN IRISH JIG AND ITS RESULTS,
BY J. 8. WALKER, LB.. D.
Ah sweet Kitty Neil, rise up from that Wheel,
Your neat little foot will be weary from spinning;
Come, trip down with me to the sycamore tree,
Half the parish is there, and the dance is beginning.
The sun is gone down, but the full harvest moon
Shines sweetly and cool on the dew-whitened valley;
While all the air rings with the soft, loving things
Each little bird sings in the green-shaded alley."
With a blush and a smile; Kitty rose, up the while,
Her eye in the glass, as she bound her hair,
glancing;
'Tis hard to refuse when a young lover MOB
So she couldn't but choose to go off to the dancing.
And now on the green the glad groups are seen—
Earth gay-hearted lad with the lass of his choosing;
And Pat, without fail, leads out sweet Kitty Neil:
Somehow, when he asked her, she ne'er thought of
refusing.
Now Felix Magee put his pipes to his knee,
And, with a iloprish so free, sets each couple in mo-
tion,
With a cheer and a bound ; the lade patter the
ground, •
The maids move around just like swans on the ocean;
Cheeks bright as the rose, feet light as the doe's,
Now coyly retiring, now boldly advancing—
Search the world all around, from the sky to the
ground,
No such eight can be found as an Irish lass dancing!
Sweet Kate! who could view your bright eyes of
deep blue,
Boamiog humidly through their dark lashes so
mildly,
Your fairly-turned arm, heaving breast, and round
form,
Nor feel his heart warm, and his pulses throb wildly ?
Poor Pat feels his heart, as he gazes. depart,
Subdued by the smart of such painful yet sweet
love;
The sight leaves hie eye, as he cries with a sigh,
Dance light, for ray heart it lies under your feet,
love ."
My Matter-of-Fact Cousin.
BY MARY E. CLARKE
I had jest been admitted to the bar.
Before me lay my aunt Fannie's letter,
urging me to pay a visit to her, uncle
James - and the girls.
At dinner time I told my father of my
plans.
4 Very good,' said he, approvingly, 'you
will have the fresh air that the doetor re
commends; and if you choose to fall in
love with your cousin Molly, I shall give
my consent to the match.'
She's a dear, good girl,' said my
mother.
I instantly resolved to hate Molly. Fall
in love with a dear, good girl !' I—a
poet—a genius—seeking, on this desert
earth, for a kindred soul—a heart to beat
in unison with mine—a bright, etherial
being, formed to be worshipped, but of
course willing to bow before my superior
mind ! ' Dear, good girl,'' brought up a
vision of a little bread and butter Miss,
always ready to wait on mamma and
courtesy to a strange gentleman. I fall in
love with her ! Nothing could relieve my
disgusted feelings but a canto to my
ideal,' and which I finished before bed-
time. ',4
The next evening found me in the quiet
home circle at Lee, already more than half
in love with—not the recommended Mollie,
but her sister, the fair-haired, blue-eyed
Leonie. Together we soared to the realms
of thought ; we quoted Byron—we com
pared favorite passages, and, ecstasy ! she,
too, confided her inmost thoughts to paper
—she, in slit•rr, wrote poetry ! She was
unhappy, too, in want of sympathy. None
of the family believed in her inspiration of
genius. Her father said ' trash !' to her
first effusions ; and her mother advised her
to spend her time in making cake, if bread
was too commonplace.
Molly had a small but neat slipper, and
her dainty slipper and dress both fitted ex
quisitely ; her hair was dark brown, and
,braided in heavy hoops ; she had soft.
brown eyes, fair complexion, and a bright,
cheerful face.
Leonie, tall, slerider and graceful, wore
a white dress, which might have paid a
visit to the wash-tub with advantage ; but
my eyes and admiration rested on her face.
The features were Grecian, and the large,
languid blue eyes and long, loose curls,
made a fair picture, which, to my blinded
eyes, was improved by a half reclining
position, and pensive expression.
4 Leonie,' said her father, 4 what are you
looking so dolorous about? TOothache V
A look of scornful impatience excited at
once my sympathy, and the laughter of the
rest.
Oh ! I see,' said uncle James ; you
are composing an ode to a summer's night.
Eh, Leonie
Including mosquiters,' said Molly,
quiP tl y.
Of course ! Come, let's have the first
verse,' said the poor girl's tormentor.
Papa, spare me ! Torture not my calm
repose by dragging forth my sorrows to the
world.'
I rushed into the entry. My idol had
caught-her foot in a rent in her dress, and
fell headlong down the stairs, where she
lay insensible. I - knelt down and Milled
upon her by every endearing name.
Don't be silly,' -said Molly, in a quick,
anxious tone. g You are the only one
here who can lift her. Take her to her
room, and then send John for Dr.
Wal
lace.'
I obeyed. Lifting the inanimate form,
I followed Molly's light footsteps up the
stairs, to Leonie's room. Even in my ter
ror, I could not esc,pe the impression of
cl , sgust which .that room gave me. My
aunt made it a rule that the girls should
take care of their own rooms, and I fondly
imagined , Leonie's room to be a bower of
beauty—a resting place haunted by the
works, the pictures of great minds—a
home where genius could rest secure of no
jar from outer life. I saw at mid-day, an
unmade bed—dusty, greased, dirty carpet
—open, disorderly drawers, from which
straggled ends of dresses, brushes, soiled
collars, and manuscripts in dire confusion
—a crushed bonnet on the table, with a
volume of Shelly in the crown— and a
writing desk open on a window sill. My
aunt came up in a moment.
Some water, Molly dear !' she said,
taking her post at once by Leonia. 'And
cologne ! Where is the cologne ?'
Don't stop to look here. Ned, go to
my room. There is a bottle on the mantel
piece,' said Molly.
I went hastily, found the bottle, and
was then unceremoniously requested to
retire, and send the doctor-up as Soon as
he came. Where did Igo ? Straight, on_
my word, straight back to the room of my
matter-of-fact cousin. I was fascinated by
the glimpse I bad had of it, and I actually
had the impudence to go for another.
I knew that my cousins were allowed to
furnish and decorate their rooms' as they
pleased, and it was a revelation to look at
Molly's. All the furniture was of a cool
gray, (cottage,) with pretty flowers scat
tered over it. The dainty, white bed,
neatly made, stood under curtains of a
soft rose-color gauze ; the pretty carpet,
gray and flower-strewn -like the furniture,
looked as if dust had never touched it.—
Every article stood in its place, and there
was a bewitching air of finished neatness
about the whole, that repudiated the idea
of a servant's fingers. The book-shelf
held a choice selection of standard works,
and a few landscape pictures hung on the
walls. The work basket and writing desk
were in •loving companionship on a table
near the window, whose white curtains
gave a shade to the whole room. A small
vase on the bureau held one rose, half
blown, with a cluster of its own green
eaves.
Leonie's injuries proved slight ; but she
kept her room for a week, and Molly and
I were thrown gulch together. I cannot
tell you how she roused me in an ambition
to be a better man ; how her earnest, use
ful life, her gentle intelligence, and the
well-trained mind, shamed me from my
dreams, to manly aspirations and resolu
tions. I left Lee, determined to deserve
my cousin Molly's regard.
One year later I renewed my visit. We
had corresponded during my absence, and
when I left the second time, 1 brought
home for my bride my MATTER-OF-FACT
COUSIN.
dealer advertised eye-glasses, by
the aid of which a person could easily read
the finest print. A well dressed wan call
ed at the counter one day to be fit'ed to a
pair of spectacles. As he remarked that
he bad never worn any, some wero.hand
ed to him that magnified very little. He
looked hard through them upon the book
set before him, but declared he could make
out nothing. Another pair of stronger
power were saddled upon his nose, but
unsuccessfully as before. Further trials
were made, until at length the almost dis
couraged dealer passed to him a pair which
magnified more than all the rest in his
stock. The customer, quite as impatient
as the merchant at having to.try so many,
put on the last pair and glowered through
them at the printed page with all has
might.
Can you read that printing now in
quired the dealer, pretty certain-that he
hit it had right this time, at any rate.
Sure, not a bit,' was the reply.
Can you read at all !'said the merchant,
unable to conceal his vexation any longer.
Rade at all, is it V cried the customer.
There's not a single word among them
that I can identify the features tiv.'
4 I say, do you know how to read ex
claimed the dealer impatiently. Out wid
ye !' shouted the Irishman, throwing down
the spectacles in a huff. 'lf I could rade,
what' ud I be after bnyin' a pair of spec
tacles for 2 Ye chate the paple wid the
idea that yer glasses 'ud help 'em to rade
print. aisy ; but it's a big lie, it is ! Ah,
ye blackguard, ye thought I'd buy 'em
without tryin' 'em !'
How do you, Mrs. Towe ? Have
you heard that story about Mrs. Ludy ?'
c Why, no, really Mrs. Gad ? What is
it ? Do tell.'
Oh, I promised not to tell for all the
world—no, 1 must never tell on't ; I'm
afraid it will get out.'
c Why, never tell on't as long as 1
live, just as true as.the world. What is it?
Come tell.'
Now, you wont say anything about it,
will you ?'
4 No, I'll never open my mouth about it
—never. Hope to die this minute.'
6 Well, if you'll believe it, Mrs. Funday
told me last night, that Mrs. Trot told her
that her sister's husband was told by a
person who dreamed it, that Mrs.
Trouble's oldest daughter told Mr.
Nichens that her grandmother heard by a
letter she got from her sister's second hus
band's oldest brother's step-daughter, that
it was reported by the captain of a clam
boat just arrived from the Feejee Islands,
that the mermaids about that section were
crinoline made out of shark skins.'
We hear a good anecdote concerning
a soldier laddie on one of our gunboats.—
The vessel was just going into action, and
our soldier upon his knees, when an officer
sneeringly asked him if he was afraid ?
No, I was praying,' was the response.—
Well, what are you praying for?' contin
ued the officer. 'Praying that the enemy's
bullets may be distributed the same way
as the prize .moneyis,prilcipally among
the officers P waslhe short add ready re
tort. . •
..r 7 _ , 'rf AO Oa
Many cherish, if they do no express in
worth . ; bitter and murmuring feeling We
ask such to read the following story
It seems so hard—so cruel !' said the
young mother, and here a sob broke into
her voice. She clasped her hands over
her eyes, and the tears broke through her
fingers—such salt bitter tears ascould only
break up from a mother' heart—a mother
robbed of her first born!
Two weeks ago that very day he had
been with her in the ohardber where the
young mother now sat in darkness and
desolation, the little restless feet patter
ing along the floor, and the little glad voice
breaking up in quiSk shouts of laughter,
or lisping out those pretty broken words
and entreaties which are such sweet
mu.io to a mother's heart; and now
There stood in the corner the little crib,
with its pretty lace curtains, and t ver it
hung the snowy apron and embroidered
merino dress he had last worn, and at the
foot lay the little morocco slippers that
the mother couldn't have removed from
her sight, though the feet , that had worn
them now lay folded closd together, and
down so deep under the grass that no
warmth of the sunshine could ever reach
them.
6 Don't, Mary don't! It might have
been worse. Remember there are sorrows
greater than yours,' said the soft pitying
voice of Mrs. Howard, the lady's most in
timate friend, who was passing the morn
ing with her.
The stricken woman looked np in in
credulous astonishment, that checked for
a moment the flow of her tears. How
can you tell me this, Helen V she exclaim
ed in a voice broken with grief and wound
ed feeling ; be was my only boy, my lit
tle Harry, with but two years and five
months over his golden head ; and I loved
him so ; and then I don't believe there
ever was another quite so pretty and
bright a child. You know, too, how my
very heart was bound up in him , how if I
ever ran out for an hour, I was never easy
till I got back to him again ; and how I
i used to stand and watch him, after he got
to sleep in the crib there, with one little
chubby hand wrapped up like a lily under
his cheek, and the smiles crimping up his
red lip ; and then just to think of his pret
ty, frolicsome, teasing way, that made me
stop every tther minute and hug him up
to my heart, and cover . his face with
kisses. Oh, Harry, my baby, my precious
baby ! shal , I never see you again 2
Surely, Helen, there never was sorrow
I like unto my sorrow,' and the sobs broke
out again.
Yee, Mary, there was,' and 'Mrs. How
ard's solemn tones checked the tears of
her friend. I know of a sorrow , with
whose bitterness yours bears no compari
son, and it has come into our family, un
to my own and only sister. for her pride,
her idol, her Herbert is in prison !'
Oh, Helen!' cried Mrs. Sprague,
springing up from her chair with a shud
der, while she looked at the pale working,
features of her friend.
4 1. cannot talk of it, Miry, or it will
drive me, as it has his mother, frantic.
You saw him in his childhood, and can
remember what a beautiful, promising boy
he was; but he was impetuous, and fond
of society and all sorts of fun, and his
mother was doting and indulgent ; and so
he grew up to his seventeenth birthday,
reckless and self-willed, though he was too
kind-hearted to be ever malicious.
I must make the story short : he fell
into bad company and bad habits ; and one
night when quite intoxicated, he was per
suaded to juin seine incendiaries. The
ringleaders were detected, and the boy
was sentenced to a year in the peniten
tiary, which might have been ten, only his
youth pleaded hard with the kind-hearted
judge ; and now he lies down at uiubt in
a felon's cell, while his poor,broken-hearted
mother paces her room with the tears
streaming down her wasted cheeks as she
moans over and over these words : If he
had but died when he was but a baby !—if
he had but died then !'
And Mrs. Sprague listened to this story
with mingled horror and sympathy, which
made her forget her own grief, and at its
close she *laid solemnly : Yes, Helen,
her sorrow is gneater than mine. I had
- ten thousand times rather Harry had died
than lived for this.'
And for you, oh. stricken mothers ! who
have laid down, with such heart-aches as
God best knoweth, the child of your love
do I write this story.
TIT FOR TAT !--In a small town on the
Schuylkill river there is a church in which
the singing had run completely down.'
It had been led for many years by one of
the deacons, whose voice and musical pow
er bad been gradually failing.
One evening the clergyman gave out
the hymn, which was in metrical measure
rather harder than usual, and the deacon
led off. Upon its conclusion the minister
arose and said :
Brother B— will please repeat the
hymn, as I can not conscientiously pray
after such singing !'
The deacon very composedly pitched it
to another tune with a manifest improve
ment upon the first effort, and the clergy
man proceeded with his prayer. Having
finished, he took up a book to give the
second hymn, when he was interrupted by
the deacon gravely getting up and saying,
in a voice audible to the whole congrega
tion.
"No Sorrow, Like Mine."
Will Mr.— please make another
prayer V it will be impossible for me to
sing after snob praying as that !'
REMEMBER HOME.—Fortnnate unspeak
ably fortunate—is the young man who has a
home that he loves, and dear ones nestling
there to whome his heart goes out in im
measurable yearnings of affection. The
youth who has come to the city to seek'
his fortune, is guarded as by an angel
from Heaven, when he carries fresh in his
memory the picture of an humble cottage
home which shelters the dear and venera
ted being who gave him birth. The thrill
of her loving touch, as she laid her hand
upon his head in blessing, ere he turned
his footsteps towards the great city, shall
, hold him ever in the Path of Life, and
I charm the Tempter away. And still more
I blessed is he if he has to devote a portion
-1 of wages to the support of that home, and
of those dear ones whom he so loves. In
such a case, his 'earnings are hallowed
with a sacredness which communicates it
i self to his character, and .is exhibited in
ISlossoms of noble duteousness.•, The con
sedateness that the wages of his toil glad;
den, and beantify, and sznike comfortable,
=ilM==
the home of his childhood, and the authors
of his being, gives a dignity to his labor,and
a delight in its reward, such as no mere
selfish spirit of acquisition can impart.—
Therefore, 0 ye young men, remember
your paternal homes, and devote at least
a portion of your earnings to the making
of them brighter and happier, that your
own life path may be brightened by the
effulgence which is ever radiated from good
deeds.
Good Nature.
If there be one thing for which a man
should be more grateful than another, it is
the possession of good nature. I do not
consider him good tempered who has on
temper at all. A man ought to have spir
it, strong, earnest, and capable of great
indignation. We like to hear a man thun
der once in a while, if it is genuine, and
in the right way for a right man. When a
noble fellow is brought into contact with
mean and little ways, and is tempted by
unscrupulous natures to do unworth.
things ; or when a great and generous
heart perceives the wrong done by lordly
strength to shrinking, unprotected weak
ness ; or where a man sees the foal mis
chiefs that sometimes rise and ebver the
public welfare like a thick cloud of poison
ous vapors--we like to hear a man express
himself with outburst and glorious anger.
It makes feel safer to know that there
are such men. We respect human nature
all the more to know that it is capable of
such feelings.
But just these men are best capable of
good nature. These are the men upon
whom a sweet justice in common things,
and a forbearance toward men in all the
details of life, and a placable, patient and
cheerful mind, sit with peculiar grace.
Some men are much helped to do this
by a kind of bravery born with then.—
Some men are good natured because they
are benevolent, and always feel in a sunny
mood ; some, because they have such vigor
and robust health that care flies off from
them, and they really cannot feel nettled
and worried ; some, because a sense of
character keeps them from all things unbe
coming manliness ; and some, from an
overflow of what may be called in part
animal spirits, and, in part, also, hopeful
dispositions. But whatever be the cause
or reason, is there anything else that so
much blesses a man in human life as this
voluntary or involuntary good nature 1 Is
there anything else that converts all things
so much into enjoyment to him? And
then what a glow and light he carries with
him to others ! Some men come upon you
like a cloud passing over the sun. Yon do
not know what ails you, but you feel cold
and chilly while they are about, and need
an extra handful of coal on the fire when
ever they tarry long.
Others rise upon you like daylight.—
How many times does a cheerful and hope
ful physician cure his patient by what he
carries in his face, more than by what he
has in his medical ease ! How often does
the coming of a happy-hearted friend lift
you up out of a deep despondency, and be
fore you are aware, inspire you with hope
and cheer. What a gift it is to make all
men better and happier without knowing
it ! We don't suppose that flowers know
how sweet they are. We have watched
them. But as far as we can find out their
thoughts, flowers are just as modest as
they are beautiful.
These roses before me, salfatine, lamar
que, saffano, with their geranium leaves
(rose) and carnations and abntilon, have
made me happy for a day. Yet they stand
huddled together in my pitcher without
seeming to know my thoughts of them, or
the gracious work which they are doing !
And how much more is it to have a dispos
ition that carries with it, involuntarily,
sweetness, calmness, courage, hope, and
happiness, to all who are such? Yet this
is the portion of good nature in a real,
large minded strong natured man! When
it has made him happy- it has scarcely be
gun its office. •
In this world, where there is so much '
real sorrow, and so much unnecessary
grief of fret and marry; where men stum
ble in rough paths, and so many push them
down rather than help them up ; where
tears are as common us smiles, and hearts
ache so easily, but arespoorly fed on high
er joys, how grateful ought we to be that
God sends along here and there, a natural
heart-singer—a man whose nature is
large and luminous, and who, by his very
carriage and spontaneous actions, calms,
cheers, and helps his fellows. God bless
the good natured, for they bless everybody
else.—Beecher's Eyes and Ears.
An anecdote is related of a young
preacher at a city church, who had for his
text a verse from the parable of the ten
virgins, and in the course of his sermon
explained:
• That in old times it was customary
when the bridegroom and bride were com
ing, for ten virgins to go ont and meet
them, and to escort them home—five of
these virgins being males and five females!'
T HE LANCASTER. INTELLAGENC.ER
JOB PRINTING ESTABLISSMENT,
No. S NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA.
The Jobbing Department is thormighly furnished with
new and elegant type of every descriptioni and is tinder
the charge of a practical and experienced Job Muter.--
The Proprietors are prepared to
PRINT CHECKS,
NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS,
• CARDS AND CIRCULARS,
BILL HEADS AND HA 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.
hie terms and in a manner not excelled by any establish
moot in the city.
./M- Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise,
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON A SON,
Inteliigencer Office,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa.
H AIR DRESSING AND SHAVING
ALOON.
SAMUEL J. WILLIAMS takes pleasure in notifying his
numerous friends and customers, that he has removed his
Saloon from Cooper's Hotel to the basement under Peter
M'Conomy's Shoe Store, in West Ring street, near the
DI rket Reuse, and has fitted It up in uew and elegant style
or the accommodation of customers.
HAIR DRESSING, SHAVING AND SHAMPOONING
done In the m st scientific and fashionable style, and his
tensorial operations are performed with the greatest ease
and comfort to all concerned.
He will also rotor the hair and whiskers, and guarantee
the colors to be applied without - injury to either.
Give the Professor a call, and he flatters himself that he
will be able to render general satisfaction.
sir Don't make a mistake and get into the wrong shop.
Recollect, it is immediately under 51'Conomy's Shoe Store.
apr 15 tf 141 8. T. WILLIAMS.
BODUGGER.
This wonderful article, just patented, is something
entirely new, and never before offered to agents, who are
wanted everywhere. Full particulars sent free. • •
Address SHAW A CLARK,
api 21y 121 Biddeford, Maine..
FISHING TACKLE,
Rods, Limerick and Kirby Hooks, Net-Trine, See
arum, Cotton and Linen Linea, Moats, Snoods, ac:
Tor ardo a THOMAS .KLLAUKER'S
,Drog A f:oetrocal Store, opposite Creep Heys Hotel, W
_KIWI sto.t, tancitster: • CM*, tr ii.•
j_wamituax,
ofteasas,4olo
Diu
jam
let
clout, ,
cu O c :: boli T01211::: ual , 11:1 0 171::::: 12.1 7 u ;
TB AAIC B A - 8.4 '0
N/cBONi . , ,- `,- PemoT ILEG es Plot, -Ansie k e n i potsp ° 9lo 4 °M t ßA tain i f r .n all : O r e l'
THY PBODI7ON. wrmas AND LIQIIORIE4 . - .- - - to the mixt &en =tet:doter htbitta. MT Weimar
i
deo B " Il eotztei ."6"4" . 4"thsw isma d lit niasn'' '".•. ti le:rib:a d lar"`" , - onsinit . iThini E rrussutv jgw qrr °9 4 LIGS
, ~
L i c',i:llfol.C.
IM!MM
.ii..:;.i.i...'3.1.1;1-`et..., ~ .,e ..., - :-..., . .,!..,-:, ,, .„„tv,
_ .„,,,::,.,.,1,.,.!....0.:1,:“.1,4 4-5 i..• .,
. .
in ODE Y'S LADY'S BOON FOIL 1863.
Ur GREAT LITRIIARY AND PICTORIAL YEAR.
The publisher of. Godefa Lady's Book, thankful to that
public which has enabledlrbn to publish a magazine . for
the last thirty-three years of a larger circulation than any
in America, has made an arrampnamst srith themcst popu
lar authoress in this country— •
MARION HARLAND,
Authoress of "Alone," "Hidden Path," "Moss Bide,"
" Nemesis," and " Miriam,"
who will furnish a story for every number of the Lady's
Book for 1863. This alone will place the Lady's BOok in a
literary point of view far ahead of any other magazine.
Marion Harland writes for no other publication. Our other
favorite writers will all continua to furnish !Wales
throughout the year.
THE BAST LADY'S MAGAZINE IN THE WORLD, AND
.MVVII!MP
TUB LITERATI:raiI '
is of that kind that can be read aloud In the Weft thee,
and the clergy in immense Issue numbers are subsaribere ter the
Book.
THE 151131310
Is all original, and would cost 25 cents (the price of the
Book) In the mwdo stores; but moot of it lu copytkititod.
and cannot be obtained except In "Goday..? - •
' -
OUR STEEL ENGRAVING& • -• •
All efforts terival us In thte have caused, and .we now
stand alone in thin department, giving, as we do, many
more and MiloIWO better engravings than ate published
In any other work.
GODalr'S IMMENSE DOUBLE MEET PASHION—
PLATES.
CONTAINING
From live to seven fall length Colored Fashions on each
plate. Other magazines give only two. • • •
FAR ARRAN OF ANY FASHIONS IN ROROPH OR
AIIERIOA.
Godey's is the only work In the world that gives these
immense plates, and they are such as to have excited the
wonder of publishers and the public. The publication of
these plates coat
$lO.OOO MORE
than fashion.plates of the old style, and nothing. but our
wonderfully large circulation enables tus to give them..
Other magazines cannot afford it. We never spare motley
when rho public can be benefited.
These fashions may be relied on. Dresses may be made •
after them, and the wearer will not subject herself to ridin
cute, as would,be the case if she visited the large cities
dressed after the style of the plates given in some of Our •
mealled magazines.
OUR WOOD ENGRAVINGS,
of which we give twice or three times as many many other
magazine, are often mistaken for steel. They are so far
superior to any others.
IMITATIONS.
Beware of them. Remember that the Lady's Book-is the
original publication and tho cheapest. If you take (today,
you want no other magazine.
Everything that Is useful or ornamental in a house can
be found In Godey.
•
DRAWING LESSONS.
No other no4zsztrie gives them, and we have enough to
fill several large volumes.
OUR RECEIPTS
are such as can be found nowhere else. Cooking In all its
variety---Confectionery—the Nursery—the Toibit—the
Laundry,-.the Kitchen. Receipts upon all imbieete are to
be f .00d In the pages of the Lady's Rook. We originally
started this department, and have peculiar facilities , for
making it most perfect. This department alone is worth.
the price of the Book.
LADIES' WORK TABLE. _ _
. _
This department comprises engravings sad desoriptlons
of every article that a lady weam
MODEL OuTTAGES.
No other magazine has this department.
TEEMS: ()Asa IN ADVANCE.
One copy one year, $3. Two copies one year, $6. Three
copies one year, $0 Four. copies one year $7.
Five copies one year, and an extra copy to the person,
aending the club, $lO.
Eight copies one year, and an extra copy to the person
sending the club, $l5.
Eleven copies one year, and an extra copy to the person
sending the club, $2O.
And the only magazine that can be introduced into the
above clubs in place of the Lady'e Book is Arthur's Home
Magazine.
SPECIAL CLIMBING WITH OTHER X&GAXOSIS.
Oodey'e Lady's Book and Arthur's Home Magazine both
one year for $350.
Godey's Lady's Book and Harper's Magazine both one year
fur $4 50.
Godey, Harper '
and Arthur will all three be sent one year,
on receipt of VIGO.
Treasury Notes and Notes of all solvent banks taken at
Be careful and pay the postage on your letter.
Address, L. A. GODEY,
323 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa:
Ihn
N OW IS THE TIME T GET UP
OLIIBBI
GREAT ,T.NDUOEMENTS FOB 1882
PETER 90 /V' 9 MAC/AZ/N..9
THE BOOT AHD OILLIPEEIT IR THE WORLD POE lAMBI
This popular monthly Magazine contains nearly 1000
pages; from 25 to 30 steel plates; and about 800 Wood
Engravings—and all this for only two dollars a year. This
is more, proportionately, than any magazine ever gave—
hence " Peterson" is emphatically
THE MAGAZINE FOE THE TIMES.
The stories in "Peterson " are conceded to be the best
published anywhere. The editors are Mrs. Ann 8. Stephens,
Author of " nary Derwent," "Fashion and Famine; ' and
Charles I. Peterson, author of "Hate Aylesford," "The
Valley Farm," etc., etc., and they are assisted by Mrs.
Denison, Frank Lee Benedict, by the author of "Busy L's
Diary " by T. S. Arthur, E. L. Chandler Moulton,Melilla. ,
bid Holyoke, Virginia F. Townsend, Carry Stanly, Caro.
line E. Fairfield, Ellen Ashton, F. L. Mace, E. Dewees, A.
L. Otis, and all the most popular female writers of America.
In addition to the usual number of stories, there, will be
given in 1862, Four Original and Oopprighted Noveleta,
viz:
THE JACOBITE'S. DAUGHTER; a Tale of the '45,
By Sire. Ann S. Stephens.
ANN o INTHROP'S ENGAGEMENT; a Tale of today,
By Carry Stanley.
THE MURRAY'S OF MURRAY HOUSE; a Tale of '76,
By Charles G Peterson.
GETTING INTO SOCIETY ; a Tale of to day
By Frank Lee Benedict.
These, and other writers, contribute exclusively :to
" Peterson.' Morality and virtue are always inculcated.
Its
COLORED FASHION PLATES IN ADVANCE.
.GCs - It is the Only Magazine whose Fashion Plates can
be relied on.
Each number contains a Fashion Plate, engraved on
steel, and colored; also, a dozen or more New Styles, .en
graved on wood; also a Pattern, from which a Drees, Man
tills, or Child's Costume can be cut, without the aid of •
mantua-maker—eo that each Number, in this way, will
save a year's subscription. The Paris, London, Philadel
phia and New York Fashions are described, at length, each
month. Patterns of Cape, Bonnets, Head Dresses, ke.,
given in great profusion. Its
SUPERB MEZZOTINTS AND OTHER STEEL ENGRAV
INGS
Are by the first Artiste, and one at best., is given In
every number. Its
COLORED EMBROIDERY PATTERNS.
The Work-Table-Department of this Magazine is wholly
unrivalled. It is edited by Mrs. Jane Weaver; who fur
nishes, for each number, beautiful Original Patterns.
Every number contains a dozen . or more patterns In every
variety of Fancy Work : Crochet, Embroidery, Knitting,
Bead-Work, Shell-Work, Hair-Work, Wax Flowers, Stained
Glass, Leather-Work, Painting, Photographs, As., with full;
doscriptione. Every Number will contain a SUPERB
COLORED PATTTERN for SLIPPER, PURSE, CHAIR-.
SEAT, HANDKERCHIEF, EMBROIDERY, COLLAR AND
CUFF, or some other useful, or ornamental article; and -
each of these would coat, at a retail stow, fifty, cents.
These can be had in no other American 'Magazine.
RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE, TGILEITE, SICK
ROOM, Ac., Act, will be given every Number. sir A
PIECE OF NEW AND FASHIONABLE MUSIC WILL
APPEAR EACH MONTH. Also, articles on the Flower- •
Garden, and Horticulture generally; and hints malt mat
ters interesting to Ladies. , •
TERMS :—ALWAYB IN ADVANCE.
One Copy for one year, ... .. ...... .... 2.00.
Three Copies for one year, 5.00.
Five Copies for one year,
Eight Copies for one year,. 10.00.
Twelve Copies for one year,
Sixteen Copies for one year,. 20.00.
PREMIUMS FOR GETTING UP CLUBS I—To every per
son. getting up a club of 8, and remitting $l, or a club of
8, and remitting $7.50, or a club of 8, and remitting $lO,
or a club of Pl., and remitting $l5, an extra copy for
1882 will be sent, gratis. If preferred, however, we will
send as a Premium, (instead of the extra copy,) an illus
trated LADY'S ALBUM, haud.omely bound in gilt, or our
Magnificent Mezzotint,for training, size 27 inches by 20—
.. Buoyan's Wife Interceding for his Release from Prison."
To every person getting up a Club of Sixteen, two extra
copies of the Magazine, or of either of the other Premiums
will be sent.
Address, post-paid, CHARLES J. PETERSON,
No. 806 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. ,
•.••- - • - • •
la - All postmasters constituted Agents; but any person .
nosy get up s Club. Specimens sent gratultowily, If • writ.
ten for. - (mar 26.t1 11
"THERE IS NO SUCH WORD AS SAW
TARR.ANT9B
COMPOIIND EXTICLOT 01
OUBEBS AND COPAIBA
This preparation is particularly reemmxtended to the
MEDICAL PROFESSION and the PUBLIC, as combining,:
in the moet convenient and efficacious 'form, the vralt.'.
established virtues and properties of Cubebs and. Copalbas-,
For the 'needy and effectual relief and cure of all SEXUAL
DISEASES, it may Justly be considered one of the &abut
And most valuable discoveries in the annals of medicine,
frequently effecting a cure in 'three or four daya• .In , its
preparation as an extract or a paste, the venal flatworm
taste is avoided, and it Is, consequently, never' found to
interfere with the digestion, while, from Its' greater
centration, the dose Is mach reduced. It may be relied on
as - the beat mode for the administration of 'these' remedies'
in the, tares class of diseases of Doti' sexes to .which Vioy.
are applicable.
N. n.—rurctussere are advised to ask for,
TARRANT'S COMPOUND - Errspor OF IFIITIE/I - Aisi
_ •
. .
and to take nothing else--as imitations and Wiltrthiesi
preparations, ender similar names, are in the .nierkelLl
Pamphlets accompany the medicine, containing. Inni
ample direction& Price, $l.OO. .Bent by express on receipt
of price.
Prepared and sold wholesale and retail, by .
TARRANT A'00":,
No. 278 GPAINWICILI ECIUNk comma or ; Woura &mut e
.NEW YORK,
i r
And For Bale by Druggists Generally. . • • 'r ,
• • o
AMERICAN ,
W. K. LEONARD, Piwparma, . ~•,
Main St red, 'A/tonna. -
Citizens, railroad passengers End travelers generally will
find this an excellent and ppostnt.hotuie to stop at. It is
convenient to the rafirosul, - and his 'been refitted and re.
furnished in the best style, and the propristor .wiMspare
no pains to contribute to theemnfort of his
His table is always supplied witli thaluanriestiatid gab!'
atantials of life, and his Bar iiitocked 'with - the &Meat_
liquors : • , • , I.L)
He iespectihlly invites one and all to igle.hini
tool snares them that, theleevery iota' win be atbilidoe
to.. Otutrges moderate. • - . . Opt 7.8 m aft r,
NO. IL,