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raE. LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
SLISEILD JUST TIMMY, AT NO. 8 NORTH OVEN STRUT,
• BY GEO. SANDERSON.
TERNIE.
Strascammon.--Two Bolters pe; annum, payable in ad.
vane. No subscription disenntimied until all arrear.
ages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor.
Anvsavismarts.—Advertlaements, not exceeding one
square, (t. 2 lines,) will be inserted three times for one
dollar,and twenty - flue cents for each additional 'inser
tion. Those of greater length in proportion. •
Jos Pansmno—Such as Eland Bills, Posters, Pamphlets,
Blanks, Lahels, &c.resecuted with accuracy and on
the shortest notice.
ONLY ONE INIA.N KILLED TO=DAY.
There are tears and sobs in the little brown house
Oo the hill-side slope to-day ;
Though the sun-light gleams on the outer world
There the clouds drift cold and gray.
"Only one man killed" so the tidings read—
" Our loss was trifling; we triumphed" 'twas said—
And only here in , he home on the hill
Did the words breathe aught'but of triumph still.
They had watched and waited, bad prayed and wept,
Those loving hearts by the cottage hearth, •
And the baps was strong that their darling would
walk
Unscathed and safe 'mid the battle's wrath.
They would have gladly shielded his life from ill;
But their trust was.all in their Father's will;
They had felt so sure his love would save
The pride of their heart from a soldier's grave.
Now His wisdom had ordered what most they feared,
And their hearts are crushed by the news to-day,
Only one man killed," so the telegram reads—
But for them life's beauty has passed away ;
And all the.glory and triumph gained
Seems a matter small to the woo blood-stained,
That in sorrowful strokes, like a tolling bell,
Throbs Only one man killed," as a funeral knell.
‘, Only one man killed "—so we read full oft,
And rejoicethat the loss on our aide was small ;
Forgetting meanwhile that some loving heart
Felt all the force of that murderous ball.
"Only one man killed," comes again and again;
One hero more 'mong martyred slain;
Only one man killed," carries sorrow for life
To those whose darlings fall in the strtfe.
TALK TO ME, ALLIE
Talk to me, darling Allie,
Talk to me, love, to-night;
Tell me some sweet, sad story,
Here, by the dim fire-light;
Sing melsome quaint old ballad
Of love, and of love's despair,
And I'll sit at your feet, Allie,
And comliont my braided hair.
Never mind mo if I weep, Allie,
My heart is full of tears;
You see the shadows on the wall—
They are formless, as my fears;
I can not tell you whence they name,
Nor when they will depart ;
But I know they gather in, Allie,
And darken all my heart.
You hear the storm-wind, Allie,
Twirl through the darkling night ;
Just think how the forest branches
Against it toss and fight;
They know not why they arc troubled,
Tossing in wild unrest ;
And 'tis something like the forest, Allie,
This feeling in my breast.
There's the surging and the wailing,
Like the sound of wordless woe,
As the tempest fails and freshens,
Now high. now wild, now low,
But sing come quaint old ballad
Of loco. and of love's despair,
As 1. sit here at your feet. All ie,
And comb ont my braided hair.
WILD FRANK'S RETURN
BY WALTER. WHITMAN
As the sun, one August day some fifty
years ago, had just passed the meridian of
a country-town in the eastern section of
Long-Island, a single traveller came up
to the quaint, low-roofed village-tavern,
opened its half-door, and entered the
common room. Dust covered the clothes
of the wayfarer, and his brow was moist
with sweat. He trod with a lagging,
weary pace ; though his form and features
told of an age not more than nineteen or
twenty years. Over one shoulder was
slung a sailor's jacket, and in his hand he
carried a small bundle. Sitting down on
a rude bench, he told a female who made
her appearance behind the bar, that he
would have a glass of brandy and sugar.
He took off the liquor at a draught ; after
which he lit and began to smoke a cigar,
with which he supplied himself from his
pocket—stretching out oue leg, and lean
ing his elbow down on the bench, in the
attitude of a man who takes an indolent
lounge.
Do you know one Richard Hall that
lives somewhere here among you ?' said he.
Mr. Hall's is down the lane that turns
off by that rig locust tree,' answered the
woman, pointing to the direction through
the open door ; it's about half a mile
from here to his house.'
The youth, for a minute or two, puffed
the smoke from his mouth very leisurely
in silence. His manner had an air of va
cant self-sufficiency, rather strange in one
of so few years.
I wish to see Mr. Hall,' ho said, at
length. ' Here's a silver sixpence for
any one who'll carry a message to him.'
'The boys are all away. It's but a short
walk, and your limbs are young,' re
plied the female, who was not altogether
pleased with the easy way of making him
self at home, which marked her shabby
looking customer.
That individual, however, seemed to
give small attention to the hint, but leaned
and puffed his cigar-smoke as leisurely as
before.
Unless', continued the woman, catch- bring her here you'll say she's in as good
ing a second glance at the sixpence, nn- order as ever.' So telling him to amuse
less old Joe is at the stable, as be's very himself for a few minutes as well as he
likely to be. I'll go and find out for , you.' could, Richard left the tavern.
And she pushed open a door at her back, Could it be that Black Nell knew her
stepping through an adjoining room into a old master ! She, neighed and rubbed
yard, whence her voice was the next me- I her nose on his shoulder ; and as he put
ment heard calling the person she had• his foot in the stirrup and rose on her
mentioned, in accents by no means remark- back, it was evident that they were both
able for their melody or softness. highly pleased with their meeting. Bid-
Her search was sueeisful. She soon ding his brother farewell, and not forget
returned with him who was to act as ting Old Joe, the young man set forth on
messenger—a little, withered, ragged old his journey for his father's house. As he
man, a hanger-on there, whose unshaven left the village behind, and came upon the
face told plainly enough the story of his i long, monotonous road before him, his
intemperate habits—those deeply-seated min began to meditate on the reception
•
habits; now too late to be uprooted—that he should meet with. He thought on the
would ere long lay him in a drunkard s circumstances of his leaving home ; and he
grave. Tho young man informed him thought, too, on his course of life, how it,
what the required service was, and promis- was being frittered away and lost. Very
ed him the reward as soon as he should gently influences came over Wild Frank's
return. mind then, for he yearned to show his
Tell Richard Hall that I'm going to parents that he was sorry for the trouble
his father's house this afternoon. If he .he had cost them. He blamed himself for ,
asks who it is that wishes him here, say his former follies, and even felt remorse
the person sent no name,' said the stran- that he had not acted more kindly to
ger, sitting up from his indolent posture, as Richard and gone to his house. Oh, it
the feet of old Joe were about leaving the had been a sad mistake of the farmer that
door -stone, and his bleared eyes turned he did not teach his children to love one
to catch the last sentence of the mandate. another. It was a foolish thing that ho prid
'And yet, perhaps you may as well,' ad- I ed himself on, of governing his little flock
ded the the youth, communing a moment well, when sweet affection, gentle forbear
with himself, 'you may tell him his ancei and brotherly faith, were almost un
brother Frank, Wild Frank, it is, who known among them.
wishes him to come.' The old man ae- The day was now advanced, though the
parted on his errand, and be who called heat poured down with a strength little
himself Wild Frank tossed his nearly less oppressive than at noon. Frank bad
smoked cigar out of the window, and fold- accomplished the greater part of his
cd his arms in thought. I journey; lie was within three miles of
,No better place than this, probably, will bonne. The road here led over a high,
occur to give a brief account of some ' tiresome hill, and he determined to stop on
formerbvents in the life of the young stran- I the top of it and rest himself, as well as
ger resting andwaiting at the village inn. give the animal he rode a fev.. minutes'
Afteeit miles . east of thatlnn lived a farm- breath. How well he know the place
or Mempd. Hall, •ti than of. good repute, And that mighty oak, standing just out
the syorld,.p43.ead a a, large side.the fence on the very summit of the
was fond of gain.--required i hill, often had lie repoSed • under its shade.
•
all his boys to labor in proportion to their
age,—and his right-hand man, if he might
not be called favorite, was his eldest son
Richard. The eldest son, an industrious,
sober-faced young fellow, was invested by
his father with the-ppowers of second in
command; and as strict and swift obedi
ence was a prime tenet in the farmer's do
mestic government, the children all quiet
ly submitted to their brother's sway—all
but one, and that one was Frank. The
farmer's wife was a quiet woman, in rather
tender health ; and though for all her
offspring she had a mother's tender love,
Frank's kiss ever seemed sweetest to her
lips. She loved him more than the rest
—perhaps, as in a hundred similar instan
ces, for his being so often at fault, and
so often blamed. In truth, however, he
seldom received more blame than he de
served, for he was a capricious, high-tem
pered lad, and up to all kinds of mischief.
From these traits he was known in the
neighborhcod by the name of Wild Frank.
Among the farmer's stock there was a
fine young blood mare—a beautiful crea
ture, large and graceful, with eyes like
dark-hued jewels, and her color that of
the deep night. It being a custom of the
farmer to let each of his boys ha - 7e some
thing about the farm that they called their
own, and take care of as such, Black Nell,
for so the mare was called, had somehow
or other fallen to Frank's share. He
was very proud of her, and thought as,
much of her comfort as his own. The
elder brother, however, saw fit to claim
for himself, and several times to exereisw
a privilege of managing and using Black
Nell, notwithstanding what Frank consid
ered his prerogative. On one of these
occasions a hot dispute arose, and, after
much angry blood, it was referred to the
farmer for settlement. He decided in fa
vor of Richard, and added a harsh lecture
to his other ion. The farmer was really
unjust ; and Wild Frank's face paled with
rage and mortification. That furious tem
per which he had never been taught to
curb, now swelled like an overflowing tor
rent. With difficulty restraining the ex
hibition of his passions, as soon as he got
by himself he swore that not another sun
should roll by and find him under that
roof. In the night he silently rose, and,
turned his back on what he thought an in
hospitable home, in mood in which child
should never leave the paternal roof, bent
his steps toward the city.
It may well be imagined that alarm and
grief pervaded the whole of the family, on
discovering Frank's departure. And as
week after week melted away and brought
no tidings of him, his poor mother s heart
grew wearier and wearier. She spoke not
much, but was evidently sick in spirit.—
Nearly two years had elapsed, when about
a week before the incidents at the com-
mencement of this story, the farmer's
family were joy fully surprised by receiving
a letter
. from the long absent son. He
had been to sea, and was then in New
York, at which port his vessel was just ar
rived. He wrote in a gay strain ; appeared
to have lost the angry feeling which caus
ed his flight from home ; said he heard in
the city that Richard had married, and set
tled several miles from home, where he
wished him all good luck and happiness.
Wild Frank wound up his letter by prom
ising, as soon as he could get through the
imperative business of his ship, to pay a
vi•it to his home and native place. On
Tuesday of the succeeding week, he said,
he would be with them.
Within half an hour after the departure
of Old Joe, the form of ihat ancient per
sonage was seen slowly wheeling round the
locust•-trees at the end of the lane, aecom-,t,
panied by a stout young man in primitive
homespun apparel. The meeting between
Wild Frank and his brother Richard was
hardly of that kind which generally takes
place between persons .so closely related ;
neither could it be called distant or cool.
Richard pressed his brother to go with him
to the farm-house, and refresh and repose
himself for some hours at least, but Frank
declined.
They will all expect me at home this
afternoon,' he said, ' I wrote to them
would be there to-day.'
• But you must be very tired, Frank,'
rejo ned the other; won't you let some
of us harness up and carry you? Or if
you like—' be stopped a moment, and a
trifling suffusion spread over his face ; if
you like, I'll put the 'saddle on Black
Nell—she's here at my place now, and you
can ride home like a lord.
Frank's face colored a little, too. He
paused for a moment in thought—he was
really foot-sore, and exhausted with his
journey that hot day,—so he accepted his
brother's offer.
You know the speed of Nell as well as
I,' said Richard ; I'll warrant when I
" THAT COUNTRY IB TEI 11101E 1 PROM:ROM WEIRS WEIS COMMANDS TEI amnia aiwAßD.”—Buonguiem.
LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, APRIL 7. 1863.
It would be pleasant for a few minutes to
strech his limbs there again as of old, he
thought to himself ; and he dismounted
from the saddle and led Black Nell under
the tree. Mindful of the comfort of his
favorite, he took from his little bundle,
which he strapped behind him on the
mare's back, apiece of small, strong cord,
four or five yards in length, which he tied
to the bridle, and wound and tied the
other end for security, round his own
wrist ; then throwing himself at fall length
upon the ground, Black Nell was at liberty
to graze around him, without danger of
of straying away.
It was a calm scene, and a pleasant.—
There was nu rude sound—hardly even a
chirping insect—to break the sleepy si
lence of the place. The atmosphere had
a dim, hazy cast, and was impregnated
with overpowering heat. The young man
lay there minute after minute, as time
glided away unnoticed; for he was very
tired, and his repose was sweet to him.
Occasionally ho raised himself and cast a
listless look at the distant landscape, veil
ed as it was by the slight mist. At length
his repose was lithout such interruptions.
His eyes closed, and though at first they
opened languidly again at intervals, after
a while they shut altogether. Could it be
that he slept? It was so, indeed. Yield
ing to the drowsy influences about him, and
to his prolonged weariness, he •had fallen
'into a deep, sound slumber. Thus he lay;
and Black Nell, the original cause of his
•departure from his home—by a singular
fatality the companion of his return—qui
etly cropped the grass at his side.
An hour nearly passed away, and yet the
young man slept on. The light and heat
were not glaring now : a change had come
over the aspect of the scene. There were
signs of one of those sudden thunder
storms that in onr climate spring up and
pass over so quickly and so terribly.—
Masses of vapor loomed up in the horizon,
and a dark shadow settled on the woods
and fields. The leaves of the great oak
rustled together over the youth's head.
Clouds flitted swiftly in the sky, like
dies of armed men coming up to battl4ii at
the call of their leader's trumpet. A thick
rain-drop fell now and then,while occasion
ally hoarse mutterings of thunder sounded
in the distance : yet the slumberer was not
aroused. Lo !'thus in the world you may
see men steeped in lethargy while a might
ier tempest gathers over them. Even as
the floods are about to burst—as the warn
ing caution is sent forth, they (dose their
eyes, and dream idly, and smile while they.
dream. Many a throned potentate, many
a proud king with his golden crown, will
start wildly in the midst of the thunder
crash, and the'bright glaring of the storm,
and wonder that he saw it not when it was
coming.
It was strange that the young man did
not awake. Perhaps his ocean-life had
taught him to rest undisturbed amid the
jarring of elements. The storm was now
coming on in its fury. Black Nell had
ceased grazing, and stood by her sleeping
master with ears erect, and her long mane
and tail waving in the wind. It seemed
quite dark, so heavy were the clouds.—
The blast came sweepingly, the lightning
flashed, and the rain fell in torrents. Crash
after crash of thnuder,seemed to shake the
solid earth. " And Black Nell, she stood
now, an image of beautiful terror, with
her fore feet thrust out, her neck arched,
and her eyes glittering balls of fear. At
length, after a dazzling and lurid glare,
there came a peal--a deafening crash—
as if the great axle was rent ; it seemed to
shiver the very central foundations, and
every object appeared reeling like a
drunken man. God of Spirits ! the startled
mare sprang off like a ship in an ocean
storm—her eyes were blinded with terror
—she dashed madly down the hill, and
plunge after plunge,—far, far away,—
swift as an arrow,—dragging the hapless
body of the sleeper behind her.
In the low, old-fashioned dwelling of the
farmer there was a large family group.—
The men" and boys had gathered under
shelter at the approach of the'storm ; and
the subject of their talk was the return of
the long absent son. The mother spoke
of him, too, and her eyes brightened with
pleasure as she spoke. She had made all
the little domestic preparations—cooked
favorite dishes—and arranged for him his
own bed, in its own old place. As the
tempest was at its fury they discussed the
probability of his getting soaked by it; and
the provident dame had already selected
some dry garments for a change. But
the rain was soon over, and nature smiled
I again in her invigorated beauty. • The sun
shone ont as it was dipping in the west.
Drops sparkle.d on the leaf-tips,—ooolness
and clearness were in the air.
The clattering of a horse's hoofs came
to the ears of those who were gathered
there. It was on the other side of the
house that the wagon road led ; and they
opened the door and rushed through the
adjoining room to the porch. What a
sight it was that met them there ! Black
Nell stood a few feet from the door; with
her neck crouched down ; she drew her
breath long and deep, and vapor rose from
every part of her reeking body. And with
eyes starting from their sockets, and
mouths agape in stnpifying terror, they
beheld on the ground near her a mangled,
hideous mass—the rough semblance of a
human form—all battered, and cut, and
bloody. Attached to it was the fatal cord,
dabbled over with gore. Fearful and sick
ening was the object. And as the mother
gazed—for she could not withdraw het'
eyes—and the appalling truth came upon
her mind, she sank down without shriek or
utterance, into a deep, deathly swoon.
TALKING TO CRILDREN.—The Superin
tendent of a Sunday School was question
ing his pupils concerning the address Made
to them during the previous session.
Children what did Mr. Phonny tell
you this morning !' -
No answer was made.
' Can't any of you tell me what was
said ? Susie, can't you remember 1
Susie, a bright little one of seven years,
arose, and with one finger in her mouth,
bashfully lisped out :
g Pleathe, thir, he talked and he talked,
and he thed ath how ho loved nth, and he,
talked—and we all thought he wath agoin
to thay thumthing,, but he didn't thay
nothing 1'
07 Never did an Irishman utter a bet
ter bull than did an honest John,who being
asked by a friend : 6 Has your sister got
a eon or a daughter 1' He answered
Upon my life, Ido not know whether I
am unole or aunt !'
Death in the School-Room.
A FACT.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling !—went the little
bell on the teacher's desk of a village-
school one morning, when the studies of
the earlier part of the day were about half
completed. It was well understood that
this was a command for silence and atten
tion; and when these had been obtained,
the master spoke. He was a low thick-set
man, and his name was Lugare.
Boys,' said he, I have had a com
plaint entered, that last night some of you
were stealing fruit from Mr. Nichols's gar
den. I rather think I know the thisf.
Tim Barker, step up here, sir.'
The one to whom he spoke came forward.
He was a slight, fair-looking boy of about
fourteen
,;and his face had a laughing,
good-humored expression, which even the
charge now preferred against him, and the
stern tone and threatening look of the
teacher, had not entirely dissipated. The
countenance of the boy, however, was
.00
unearthly fair for health ; it had, notwith
standing its fleshy, cleeiful look, a singu
lar east as if some inward disease, and
that a fearful one, were seated within.—
As the stripling stood before that place of
judgment, that place, so often made the
scene of heartless and coarse brutality, of
timid innocence confused, helpless child
hood outraged, and gentle feelings crushed
—Lugare looked on him with a frown
which plainly told that he felt in no very
pleasant mood. Happily a worthier and
more philosophical system is proving to
men that schools can be better governed,
than by lashes and tears and sighs. We
are waxing toward that consummation
when one of the old-fashioned school-
masters, with his cowhide, his heavy birch
rod, and his many ingenious methods of
child-torture, will be gazed upon as a
scorned memento of an ignorant, cruel,
and exploded doctrine. May propitious
gales speed that day !
Were you by Mr. Nichols's garden
fence last night V said Lugare.
6 Yes, sir,'answered the boy : I was.'
Well, sir, I'm glad to find you so ready
with your confession. And so you thought
you could do a little robbing, and enjoy
yourself in a manner you ought to, be
ashamed to own, without being punished,
did you ?'
I have not been robbing,' replied the
boy quickly. His fade was suffused,
whether with resentment or• fright, it was
difficult to tell. ' And I didn't do anything
last night, that I'm ashamed to own.'
I.No.impudenoe !' exclaimed the teacher,
passionately, as be grasped a long and
heavy ratan : give me none of your sharp
speeches, or I'll thrash you till you beg
like a dog.'
The youngster's face paled a little ; his
lip quivered, but he did not speak.
6 And pray, sir,' continued Lugare, 'as
the outward signs of wrath disappeared
from his features ; what were you about
the garden fort Perhaps you only receiv
ed the plunder, and had an accomplice to
do the more dangerous part of the job V
I went that way because it is on my
road home. I was there again afterward
to meet an acquaintance ; and—and—
But I did not go into the garden, nor take
anything away from it. I would not steal,
—hardly to save myself from starving.'
, You had better have stuck to that last
evening. You were seen, Tim Barker, to
come from under Mr. Nichols's garden
fence, a little after nine o'clock, with a
bag full of something or other, over your
shoulders. The bag had every appear
ance of being filled with fruit, and this
morning the melon-beds are found to have
been completely cleared. Now, sir, what
was there in the bag
Like fire itself glowed the face of the
detected lad. He spoke not a word.—
All the school had their eyes directed at
him. The perspiration ran down his white
forehead like rain-drops.
6 Speak, sir !' exclaimed Lugar°, with a
oud strike of his ratan on the desk.
The boy looked as though he would
faint. But the unmerciful teacher, confi
dent of having brought to light a criminal,
and exulting in the idea of the severe
chastisement he should now be justified in
inflicting, kept working himself up to a
still greater and greater degree of passion.
In the meantine, the child seened hardly
to know what to do with himself. His
tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth.
Either he was very much frightened, or he
was actually unwell.
Speak, I say !' again thundered Lugare;
and his hand, grasping his ratan, towered
above bis head in a very significant man
ner.
I hardly can, sir,' said the poor faliovv
faintly. His voice was husky and thick.
I will tell you some—some other time.--
Please to let me go to my seat—l ain't
well'
Oh yes, thaVs very likely ;' and Mr.
Lugare bulged out his nose and. cheeks
with contempt. Do you think to make
nee believe your lies I've found you out,
sir, plainly enough ; and I am satisfied
that you are as precious a little villain as
there is in the State. But I will post
pone settling with you for an hour yet. I
shall then call you up again ; and if you
don't tell the whole truth then, I will give
you something that'll make you remember
Mr. Nichols's melons for many a month
to come :—go to your seat.'
Wad enough of the ungracious permis
sion, and answering not a sound, the child
crept tremblingly to his bench. He felt
very strangely, dizzily—more as if he was
in a dream than in real life ; and laying
his arms on his desk, bowed down his face
between them. The pupils turned to their
accustomed studies, for during the reign
of Lugare in the village-school, they had
been so used to scenes of violence and se
vere chastisement, that such things made
but little interruption in the tenor of their
way.
Now, while the intervening hour is pass
ing, we will clear up the mystery of the
bag, and of young Barker being under the
garden-fence on the preceding night. The
boy's mother was a widow, and they both
had to live in the narrowest limits. His
father had died when he was six years old,
and little Tim was left a sickly, emaciated
infant whom no one expected to live many
months. To the surprise of all, however,
the poor little child kept alive, and seemed
to recover his health, as he ceitainly did
his size and good looks. This was owing
to the kind offices of an eminent physician
who had a country-seat in the neighbor
hood, and who had been interested in the
widow's little family. Tim, the physician
said, might possibly outgrow his disease ;
hut everything was uncertain. It was a
.
mysterious and baffling malady ;• and it
would not be wonderful if he should in
some moment of apparent health be sud
denly taken away. The poor widow was
at first in a continual state of uneasiness ;
but several years had now passed, and
none of the impending evils had fallen
upon the boy's head. His mother seemed
to feel confident that he would live, and be
a help and an hoer to her old age; and
the two struggled on together, mutually
happy in each other,. and enduring much
of poverty and discomfort without repin
.ing, each for the other's sake,
Tim's pleasant disposition hid made
him many friends in the village, and
among the rest a young farmer named
Jones, who with his elder brother, worked
a large farm in the neighborhood on
shares. Jones very frequently made Tim
a present of - a bag of potatoes cr corn, or
some garden vegetables, which he took
from his own stock; but as his partner
was a parsimonious, high-tempered man,
and had often said that Tim was an idle
fellow, and ought not to be helped . because
he did not work, Jones generally made
his gifts in such a manner that no one
knew anything about them, except him
self and the grateful-objects of his kind
ness. It might be, too, that the widow
was loath to have it understood by the
neighbors that she received food from any
one ; for there is often an excusable pride
in people of her condition which makes
them shrink from being considered as ob
jects of 4 charity' as they would from tha
severest pains. On the night in question,
Tim had been told that Jones would send
them a bag of potatoes, and the place at
which they were to be waiting for him was
fixed at Mr. Nichols's garden-fence. It
was this bag that Tim had been seen stag
gering under, and which caused the un
lucky boy to be accused and convicted
by his teacher as a thief. That teacher was
one little fitted for his important and re
sponsible office. Hasty to decide, and
inflexibly severe, he was the terror of the
little world he ruled so despotically.—
Punishment ho seemed to delight in.—
Knoiving little of those sweet fountains
which in children's breasts ever open
quickly at the call of gentleness and kind
words, he was feared by all for his stern
ness, and loved by none. I would that he
were an isolated instance in his profes
sion.
The hour of grace had drawn to its close,
and the time approached at which it was
usual for Lugare to give his school a joy
fully-received dismission. Now and then
one of the scholars would direct a furtive
glance. at Tim, sometimes in pity, some
times in indifference or inquiry. They
knew that he would have no mercy shown
him, and though most of them loved him,
whipping was too common there to exact
much sympathy. Every inquirint , glance,
however, remained unsatisfied, for at the
end of tho hour, Tim remained with his
face completely hidden, and s his head bow
ed in his arms, precisely as he bad leaned
himself when he first went to his Jeat.—
Lugare looked at the boy occasionally
with a scowl which see...ied to bode ven
geance for his sullenness. At length the
last class had been heard, and the last
lesson recited, and Lugare seated himself
behind his desk on the platform, with his
longest and stoutest ratan before him.
Now, Barker,' he said, ' we'll settle
that little business of yours. Just step up
here.'
Tim did not move. The school-room was
as still as the grave. Not a sound was to
be heard, except occasionally a long-drawn
breath.
Mind me, sir, or it will he the worse
for you. Step up here, and take off your
jacket !'
The boy did not stir any more than if
he had been made of wood. Lugare shook
with fission. He sat still a minute, as if
considering the best way to wreak his ven
geance. That minute, passed in- death
like silence, was a fearful one to some of
the children, for their faces whitened with
fright. It seemed, as it slowly dropped
away, like the minute which preoeedes the
climax of an exqui-itely-performed trage
dy, when some mighty master of the his
trionic art is treading the stage, and you
and the multitude around you are waiting,
with stretched nerves and suspended
breath, in expectation of the terrible ca
tastrophe.
Tim is asleep, sir,' at length said one
of the boys who sat near him.
Lugare, at this intelligence, allowed his
features to relax from their expression of
savage anger into a smile, but that smile
looked more malignant, if possible, than
his former scowls. It might be that he
felt amused at the horror depicted on the
faces of those about him ; or it might be
that he was glowing in pleasure on the way
in which he intended to wake the poor lit
tle slumberer.
Asleep ! are you, my young gentle
man !' 'let us see if we can't find something
to tickle your eyes open. There's nothing
like making the best of a bad case, boys.
Tim, here, is determined not to be wor
ried in his mind about a little flogging, for
the thought of it can't even keep the little
scoundrel awake.'
Lugare smiled again as he made the
lase observation. He grasped his ratan
firmly, and descended from his seat. With
light and stealthy steps he crossed the
room, and stood by the unlucky sleeper.
The boy was still as unconscious of his
impending punishment as ever. He might
be dreaming some golden dream of youth
and pleasure ; perhaps he was far away in
the• world of fancy, seeing scenes, and
feeling delights, which cold reality never
can bestow. Lugare lifted his ratan high
over his head, and with the true and ex
pert aim which he had acquired by long
practice, brought it down on Tim's back
with a force and whacking sound which
seemed sufficient to awake a freezing man
in his last lethargy. Quick and fast, blow
L I followed blow. Whithont waiting to see
the effect of the first cut, the brutal wretch
plied his instrument of torture first on one
side of the boy's back, and then on the
other, and only stopped at the end of two
or three minutes from very weariness
But still Tim showed no signs of motion
and as Lugare, provoked at his torpidity,
jerked away one of the child's arms, on
whichite had been leaning over on the
desk, his head dropped on tho board with
a dull sound, and his face lay turned up
and exposed to view: When Lugare saw
I it, he stood like one, transfixed by a basi
lisk. His countenance turned to a leaden
whiteness; the ratan dropped from his
grasp '
• and his eyes, stretched wide open,
glared as at some monstrous spectacle of
horror and death The sweat started in
;7'-'.7u,. , 1" ; , :t..,-es , . :0117i
great globulea seemingly from every pore
in his face'; his skinny lips contractajand
showed his teeth ; and when he at length
stretched fort his arm, and with the end
of one of his fingers touched the ohild's
cheek, each limb quivered like the tongue
of a snake; and his strength seemed as
though it would momentarily fail him.
The boy was, dead. He had probably
been so for some time, for his eyes were
turned up, and his body was quite cold.
The widow was now childless too. Death
was in the school-room, and Lugare had
been flogging.A. CORPSE. W. W.
Waverers.
A man without a mind of his own is the
most helpless and shiftless of social be
ings His brain is a mere receptacle for
shreds and patches of, opinion picked up in
the streets, and the same infirmity which
leads him to look to everybody save
himself for guidance, renders him incapa
ble of selecting - from the. multifarious
counsel ho receives that which is best
adopted to his exigencies. Nay, in his
weak bewilderment, he fails to make any
selection at all, and while he wavers and
hesitates the golden opportunity for decis
ive action slips by, and leaves him floun
dering in a sea of trouble' from which
one manly stride in almost any direction
would have extricated him.
But let the weak of purpose take heart.
This unfortunate propensity to vacillate
may be overcome. Habits of self-depen
dence may be acquired. Cowards by na
ture have reasoned themselves, ere now,
into a philosophic indifference to danger ;
and even the chameleon man, whose mind
has in a measure lost its indentity, and is
accustomed tos: take, for the time being,
the hue of every mind with which it comes
in contact, may learn to resolve and exe
cute on his own responsibillity. It must
not be supposed that we would dissuade
any one from following it in preference to
his own impulses. The very fact of a
tun seeking counsel in the right quarter
and promptly adopting it, is prima fade
evidence that he has a mind of his own,
that his judgment is sound, that his reason
is stronger than his vanity. It is not
with those who brace themselves against a
rook in time of difficulty that we would re.
monstrate, but with the learners on reeds,
the catchers at straws, the chartless, point
no-point voyagers of the ocean of life, who
are puffed hither and thither by every idle
breeze. Of all impediments to success,
instability is the 'most fatal. It is even
better to be a sententious ass like 4 .l3unsby'
than a ' Walter the Doubter.'
Every young man, on entering the busi
ness world, should form for himself, or
adopt at the suggestion of competent ad
visers, a plan of life based upon sound
mortality, and shaped so as to accord with
the bent and scope of his mental capacity.
Hie course chalked out, let him take the
the indomitable hero of Pilgrim's Progress
for his model, and with a stout heart amid
all dangers, a pure conscience amid all
temptations, and a clear head amid all
perplexities, push forward with hope and
confidence, leaving the issue to Provi
dence, and retaining for his consolation
that God never neglects to help those who
have the manliness to help themselves.
FUN AT HomE.—Don't be afraid of a
little fan at home, good people. Don't
shut up your houses lest the sun should
fade your carpets ; and your hearts, lest a
hearty laugh should shake dow some of the
old cobwebs there. If you want to ruin
your sons, let them think that all mirth
and social enjoyments must no loft on the
threshold without when they come home at
night. When once a homo is regarded as
only a place to eat, drink, and sleep in,
the work is begun that ends in gambling
houses and reckless degradation. Young
people must have fan and ielaxation some
where ; if they do not find it at their own
hearthstones, it will' be sought at other
and, perhaps, less profitable places. There
fore, let the fire burn brightly at night,
and make the home-nest delightful with
all those little arts that parents so perfect
ly understand. Don't repress the buoyant
spirits of your children ; half an hour of
merriment round the lamp and firelight of
home blotsloat the remembrance of many a
care and annoyance during the day, and
the best safeguard they can take with them
into tho world is the unseen influence of a
bright•little domestic
Illus
trated.
LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
JOB PRINTING , ESTABLISHMENT,
No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA.
The Jobbing Department is thoroughly furntehed with
new and elegant type of every description, and is under
the charge of a practice.l 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 neatnees, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasons:
ble termn ' and in a manner not excelled by any establish
ment in the city.
Agi - Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise,
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON & SON,
Intelligences Office,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa.
B uTITEkESI)QI7ALLEGB IN S
nit. MAARITET.IG
The undersigned, having made arrangements with Mr.
R. JONES, for all his best quality of PEACH BOTTOM
SLATE, for this market; and a similar arrangement with
the proprietors of six of the principal and best quarries in
York county, ho has Just received a large lot of those
superior quantities of Building Slate, which will be put
on by the square, or sold by the ton, on the most reason.
able terms. Also, constantly on hand, an EXTRA LIGHT
PEACH BOTTOM SLATE, intended for Slating on Shingle
Roofs.
As these qualities of Slate' , ,are THE BEST IN THE
MARKET, Builders and others will find it to their Interest
to call and examine samples, at my office in V7ll. D.
SPBBCILEII'd, Now Agricultural and Seed Ware•rooms.
GEO. D. SPREOLIEB,
N 0.28 East King St., 2 doors West of the Court Hones.
.Ai-This is to certify that I do not sell my best quality
of Peach Bottom Ganged Slate to any other person to
Lancaster, than Geo. D. Sprecher, as above stated.
R. JONES,
Manufacturer of reach Bottom Roofing Slate.
ly 7
H AIR. DRESSING AND SHAVING
ALOON.
SAMUEL J. WILLIAMS takes pleasure in notifying his
numerous friends and customers, that he hos removed his
Saloon from Cooper's Hotel to the basement under Peter
M'Conorny's Shoe Store. in West King street, near the
M rket House, and has fitted it up in new and elegant style
or the accommodation of customers.
HAM DRESSING, SHAVING- AND SHAMPOONLNG
done In them et scientific and fashionable -style, and his
tonsorial operations are performed with the greatest ease
and comfort to all concerned.
He will also color the hair and whiskers, and guarantee
the colon to be applied without injury to either.
aloe the Professor a call, and be flatters himself that he
will be able to render general satisfaction.
Don't make a mistake and get into the wrong shop.
Recollect, it is immediately under ild'Conomy's Shoe Store.
apr 15 tf 141, 8..1.
CONSUDIPTI.O I MATISS 9,
I, An. SCROFULA,
.1111E,U
lIEGEMAN & 002E3 GENUINE COD LIVER OM has
been proved by nearly 20 Neale' experience the best remedy
for CONSUMPTION, As n and while it cures the disease ft
gives flesh and strength to the patient. Bee that you get
the genuine. Bold by Druggists generally.
HEGEMAN k CO.
doe 9 3m 48] Chemists and Druggists, Now York.
THEI BODUGGE.n.
This wonderful article, just patented, is something
entirely new, and never before offered to agents, who are
wanted everywhere. Vail partkulare sent Au.
Addreas k CLASH,
atm 217121 BaNtetidiniticue.
1101.1n_Ar eissisaaisT•Bl
• zortir , swirapsisit_
No. a2„:1511)=11; WNW 13TRMT,
would respectfalkj iolklcitheillAs u tton of Ms Patrons and
the Public to btu • •-: „
SPLENDID ASSOR'IIIIINT:43i NOWDAY BOOKS.
PREPARED AND - ARRA.NCED KM/OM it NOR TEED
The Stook coroprbes . •-.
STANDARD •
' .. • • ' AND atlfilNlLE BOOKS,
in many beautiful and elegant. stylise of binding. •
LIBRARY EDITIONS OF THE BEST' 'AUTHORS:.
PRAYER:4IOOES . :
[English and AmerkektDiEtkia:..-
We have •
. Books; for Christmas Prestaita;.l • ' •- •
Books for New. Pees Gilts, -
Book. thr the Old Pork* • -
'Books far.the Young Yaks,
Books for the Mks fa Town,
Beets foiPolke thsVonutry.
Books for Boys, . Books for
Books for. Lovers, 'Books of Rumor,_
Books of.hievotion, • -Books Of
Booke of-Trafel, llooksiabont:...Beittes,
Books about Patriots, Booka atioitt barns,
Books about Hunters, lkiolierabout Soldiers,
Books about SailorA • Books about Touter",
Books for Mechanic s ,
.Splindid
Beautiful Poets, ' • HandsmaitsAlbnms
Washington Irving's Works, • .• .
Charles Dickens Works,
Sir Walter Scores Worts,
T. B'. ArtltUr's W,orks,,_
Bayssilaylor's Work.,
'Botch' AdventUrsh
• BervoluticinaryAdventorei.
All the writings of every standard Author. In entry • do.
partment of Literature, in every styli of binding, eau . ha
procured at Publishers' Prices. I • •
PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS,
A oew stockjost received from Celebrate& Manufacturer&
The Largestapd Rest Assortment Initi . city, ranging in
prices from 75 seas - to - 00'; 'b o und the very beet style,
with Linen" Guards. Albums ibr Abe Pocket andCentre
Table, Oblong Albums,
.Imperal Quarto /OW
styles received daily. •
THE AMERICAN SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION. 40ISIDAY
BOORS, JUST PUBLISHED.
OVER 100 NEW"BOOKS-ALIT IaIISTRAVID. - :
JUVENILE DEPA:E,ThENT.
• . . . . • • . _
This department comprises the-most complete. and the
moat extensive stock of Books Suitable for the Little Yolks
to be found in the city.• • •• • ' • • •
GAME/31 GA'SIESII ..
of every description at low prices. _. . ' ' .. . ~ :
Toy Books oral' Kinds, . ; •, _ • ,
Wrift. Doke, Rosewood and Mahogany, •
, Port Voyos
H PRIV'
METH° II3:ESBYTERI . AN,LuiI'4I`%FORiSED.
Those persona desiring 14.c= 'make their leleCti01:11 new,
and have the packages laid aside till. Obeistgoaa.
Cell and eee'for yo'dreelfle7t : .7 "13116' ...- 37117R11i36.
dec 16 tf 491 32 North Queen street. Lanceeter
riODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
GREAT LITERARY AED,PICIT9RIALNELItt -
The p üblielter . of Godey'S Lady's Bools,lhinkrul tb' thet
public which has enabled him to. Publishl• :tlulesslise for
the lest thirty-three years of a larger circulation than any
In America, has made , ai arrangementivithtliotnostipOpro
Mr authoress In this country—, . , _
.VARION HAZZAI§77), • '
Authoress of " Alone,'?"Hidden_ Path," ?doss Ede,"
" Nemec's," exid'tßilthau,"
who will furnish a story for every number of the Ladre
Book for 1863. Thls alone will place the Lady's Book In a
literary point of view far , ahead of no3r.other magazine.
Harlon - Berland writes for noothevpublleation, Out other
favorite writers will - all continue' to . :funlith dt
throughout the year - . •
THE BEST LADY'S MAGAZINE 116 THE WORLD, 'AND
THE 013KAPI39T
THE LITERATIIRE
In of that kind that can be read eland In the family circle t
and the clergy in Immense numbers are subscribers for the
Book." ' •
_ . _
THE MUSIC
- -
k all original, and would coat 26 cents (the prize of the
Book) In the music stores; but most of it is copyrighted,
and cannot be obtained except in "Godey.7
OUR STEEL ENGRAVINGS.
All efforts to rival us In this havis reseed, and we now
timid alone in this. department, giving, as we do, many
more and infinitely better engravings than are published
in any other work.
GODEY'S 1113IEN8E DOUBLE SHEET FAI3I4OE—
PLATES.
OONSA.IFIING
From five to seven foil length Colored Fashions on each
plate. Other magazines give only two.
FAIL AHEAD OF ANY FAFILIONS IN , EUROPE Olt
AMERICA.
Godey's is the only work in the world that gives these
immense plates, and they are such as to hare ezeited the
wonder of publishers and the public. The publication of
these plates cost
$lO,-000 MORE
than fashion•plates of the old style, and nothing but our
wonderfully large circulation enables us to - give, them.
Other magazines cannot afford it. 'it'd - never spare money
when the. public can be benefited.
These fashions may be roiled on. Dresses be made
after them, and the wearervrill 'not subject herself toVidin
cole, as would be the case if she visited the. large cities
dressed after the style of the plateigiven in some of our
so.called magazines.
OUR WOOD ENGRAVINGS,
of which we give .twice or three times as many Assay other
magazine, are often mistaken for steel. They are so far
importer so any others...,
IMITATIONS.
Beware of them. Remember that the-Lady's Book is the
original publication and the cheapest. If you take Godey,
you want no other magazine.
Everythilig that la useful or ornamental in a hone* can
be found in Godey.
DRAWING LESSONS.
No other magazine gives them, and we have enough to
fill several large volumes. . . .
OUR R.RODIPTS ..
aro such as can be found nowhere else. ,Clookingin 'all its
. . .
varlety--Confectionery--the Nursery .the Toilot—the
Laundry—the Kitchen. Receipts upon:1 . 1'11 object are to
be found In the pageant Aim Lady's Book:",We :originally
started thief department, and have pecttlir 'facilities for
making it most perfect. Tt,lsdepartment spat) 11,1fiptth
the price of the Book. , , ,
• . LADIES' WORK
_ .
This department comprises engraving' and descriptions
of every article that a lady vrear.t. '
MODEL COTTAGES:
No other magazine has this department:
TEEMS,: CASH IN ADVANCE.
One copy one year, $3, 'Two 6404 one year, SA. Three
copies one year, $6.„ Pour copies one yeat $7. -
Five copies one year, and an exlra copy to the person
sending the -club, .$lO..
Right copies one year. and an extra copy to the person
sending the club, $l6. .
Eleven copies one-year , and a s extra copy - to the pertain
sending the club, $2O.
And the. only magazine that can be introduced into the
above clubs in place of the Lady's Book.is Arthur'a,noma
Magazine.
BPZCUL CLUBBING 5117/3 OTHIR MAGAZIN= • ,
Godey'e Lady's Book and 'Arthur's Home Magazine both
one year for $360. . • ,
Godey's Lady's Book
and Harper's Magaitrieb;atti one year
for $4.50. ' •
Godey, Harper, and Arthur will all three be eentunnyesr,
on receipt of $13,03.
Treasury Notes and Notes of all solvent banks `taken-at
par.
Ee careful and pay the postage on your letter,
Address, L. A. GODHY,
323 °tundra:lA Street, Phlladelphls,Pai
Buz 41
ILLVSTRATED
SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN '
THE BEST MECHANICAL PAPER IN THE WORLD;
EIGIITEENi•II YEAR
VOLUME VIM-NEW BERME
A new volume of this popular Journal commences on
the first of January.- It is published Weekly, and every
number contains sixteen pages of useful information, and
from five to ten original engravings of new inventions.%
discoveries, all of which PM prepsrod.napressly f'w
TO THE MECHANIC AND MANUFACTURER.
No person engaged in any of the mechanical or mann.
factoring pursuits about& think of "doing Without" the
Scientific American. It coats but six emits per week;
every number contains fromaix to temenM u vlogs of new
1- ventions, which - cart not be found in spy
other pabliatica.
TO THE INVENTOR.
- _
The Scientific American le indispensable to - every in
venter, as it not only contains, illastrated descriptions of
nearly all the beet inventions as they - come out, but each
number contains an Official List of the Chime tif all the
Patents issued front. the United.s hates Patent °Moe during
the weak previous ; three corn:fat Nati:try of the
progress of inventions in this country. We are also re
ceiving, every week, the beat scientific , journals of Great
Britain, France and Germany; thus placing in our posies
sten all that is transpiring in mechanical science and art
in these old countries. We shall continue to transfer to
•our colnmns copious entracte from these journals of what
ever we may deem of interest to emir readers.
A pamphlet of Instruction as to the beat:Mode of ob
taining Letters Patent on new inventions, is furnished
free on application. _
Mateo. Mum & Co., have acted as Patent Solicitors for
more than-seventeen years, In connection 'with - the publi
cation of the Scientific American, and they refer to 20,000
patentees for whom they have done business.
No charge is made for examlningsketches and - models of
new Inventions and for &detains Inventors .as lb their
patentability.
MILLWEIGHTS AHD . •
CHEMISTS, ARCHITECTS.
PAIIME&S.
The Scientific American will be found 'a most' neeful
journal to them. All the new discoveries in the science of
chemistry.aregiving io Its columns, and the interests of
the architect and carpenter.are not overlooked; all the new
inventions and discoveries appertaining,o these . pnrsults
being published from week to week.: Usefid and prittical
information pertaining to the interesta.of.toillisrights and
miltovrnera will be found in the Scientific Amerkian, which
informaUon they can not possibly obtain - from; an other
aonrce. Subjects in which farmers are interested be
found discussed in the Scientific: Aniericatt; 'Most :of.the
improvements in spiv:Litt:mai implements being illuttnSed
To mail subscribers : Three pollen a year, or One'Dollar
for four months. The volumes commence on the Mat of
January and July. .13peamen Copies will be eaut gratis to
any part of the country.
Western and Canadian money or Post.oflice Tampa baken
at par for subscriptions. Canadian subscribers will' OWse
to remit twenty.ftve cents extra. on each .year's attbseAlp
tion to pre.psy postage. MUNN
Publishers, 37 Park Itow_
INERI ,0 A . Et• 11,11/ . .,111 g
W.IL LEONARD, Paosancrillh.„ '
' Erin titte . r Altoona., • •,.;
Oitirens,Milroad pamengers and fraident
find this an excellent and.plaseint Mimes lontaikeeEilb I.
consentent to the railroad, and has been refilled- =dl*.
furniebed In the best style, and the prolnketor 1U Stare
no o u s ib tf e c i nt i ran 3 i g te to the
e = his puede.
on . d
etantlals of life r andhis gar is stnisketd VOL Sliiscstndossf
listit e i s2ll , l •••
••: .: -• .„,rT;7: tifi :
ain
sad resTm
",
acbiati
asureirtbsin that theft thirl:Srazit"
to. Charges moderate. : • - A T*Petle
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13»_