......: -. 7dit 3,1a11,40t/c./....itt4l.i4c<.tte..t
VOL. LXIV
HE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
MAUI ) MOLT TOMMY, AT NO. 8 NORTH DOER arm?,
BY GEO. SANDERSON.
TERMS
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the shortest notice.
DRESSED FOR THE BALL
She stood in her touching loveliness,
All dressed for the coming ball,
With her pare white dress and pure white face,
Waiting for us in the hall.
A diamond star on her bosom lay,
Aud starry gems were her eyes,
Eyes knowing no shade of thought or care,
Winsomely, sweetly unwise.
Roses glowed ardent red on her dress,
Glowed ardent red on her lips;
Roses fainted and drooped on her hair,
And died on her finger-tips.
Gold clasped the marble curse of her arms,
It wound round her throat so fair;
It coaxing drooped from her pearly ears,
And rippling gold was her hair.
I spoke to a friend who gazed with me,
I uttered my rising fears:
,4 Oh ! woe, that Grief should that ,over face Jade,
And those star-eyes cloud in tears."
" Your words are ?ave., words," the lady said
"You know that Pain and Pride
Are stranger than Joy, or Blossom, or Youth,
Or Reason, or aught beside.
" She will look up, when her peace is fled,
.Ai peacefully sweet es now ;
Sobs in the heart send smiles to the lips ;
Oh! women alone know how.
"Pain shines like joy In the weary eyes,
More brilliant than joy perchance
And it dyes the cheek and sharply spurs
The tired feet In the dance."
Then I cried, "My darling must she bear
The wearisome weight of oars?
If my arms are round her heart for.aye,
Will sorrow Jail enter there ?"
She must bear her heartbreak all alone,
But, oh! for thy darling's sake,
Check the harsh thought—the word which, though
light,
Yet may a breaking heart break.
"Pity the sorrow that seemeth joy,
And smiles that from pain are wrung ;
Pity all maskers, but above all,
Pity, oh ! pity the young !
"They must tread ereet a thorny road,
In all the summer-tide heat,
But silken robes will treed to the ground
And hide the poor bleeding feet.
" God's tired children are everywhere,
We dance with them at the ball:
Be kind to the gay, and perchance thy balm
On some wayworn soul shall fall."
NO ONE TO LOVE
No one to love in this wide world of sorrow,
No tender bosom our fortunes to share,
No loving face from whose smiles we may borrow
Soothing in sadness and hope in despair.
Pity the heart that doth silently languish,
Hiding its grief 'Death a summer day smile,
Mourn for the spirit that, prone in its anguish,
Sings while the bosom is writhing the while.
No one to love in the wide world around us,
Why should we oars if we prosper or fail ?
None will rejoice when the laurel hath orowned um ;
None will lament when oar glory wanes pale.
We are but wanderers, o'er the earth roving,
No one will follow our footsteps with pray'r;
No quiet home, with its true hearts and loving
Waiteth our coming to shelter as there.
Oft will a laugh that is sweetest and lightest,
Thrill with wild anguish our hearts to the core ;
Oft will a glance that is kindest and brightest
Mind us of those we shall never see more.
And when the garlands for beauty's adorning
Bear the loved blossoms of those who have fled,
Oft will affeotion, unmindful of scorning,
Turn from the living to weep for the dead.
FALSE AND FAIR.
What an exceedingly beautiful girl !'
exclaimed one gentleman to another, with
whom he was walking, and who had just
lifted his hat to three ladies in passing.-
4 Pray who is she
There were three ladies in the group
to which I bowed,' his companion replied,
as I presume it is necessary to inform
you, as you seem to have seen but one.—
And that one to whom you doubtless refer,
is the eldest daughter of Mrs. Ward Bry
ant.. Her mother and her sister, almost
as perfect a brunette as she is a blonde,
accompanied her.'
What ! our old preceptor's widow ?
Then I must have known these girls as
children. Do tell me something more of
them, particularly of the fair one, who
must be Anna. I must call upon them
immediately, and I would fain know some
thing before doing so. She interests me
exceedingly.
Anna? Yes. It is easy to say that.
But, for my part, I like Emeline far better.'
Brunettes are so spiteful and fiery !'
More ardent and intense,
doubtless, in
all their emotion than their fairer sisters.
But what say you to a cool blonde, who
systematically deceived the best of moth
ers, and whose quiet but indomitable will
is daily forcing her into a course of con
duct which, while it is soon to bring ruin
upon herself, will inflict the deepest sorrow
upon that mother's heart.'
You do not intend to intimate that
Anna Bryant is guilty of such conduct.—
With that pure face and gentle mien—
deceitful and a liar ! No, no. I do not
so read that lovely face.'
Yet it is even so. You did not see
the shifting grey eyes that never meet any
gaze with innocent frankness, nor in your
enthusiastic admiration of the whole face
did you doted the lines of firmness about
her mouth, thi t certainly is lovely in color,
nor the heaviness of the lower face, so in
dicative of an obstinate temper and low
instincts.'
No, I did uot. Bat you excite my cu
riosity. Pray, tell me, if you are at lib
erty to do so, in what manner my old
friend's child is proving herself so unwor
thy of the name sbe bears.'
- -
One proof of my assertions you shall
see for yourself. The ladies have turned,
and era about to meet us again. You see
this young man, who has just brushed
past us—the one with that eccentric coat,
and hat sat jauntily aside, and air that
marks him as having his place on the bor
der ground, between gentility and vulgar
ity. Observe what passes as he meets
Anna Bryant.
There was an instant's pause. The
ladies advanced slowly, and as they neared
the young man whom the friends were ob
serving, Anna directed the attention of
her mother and sister to some object in a
shop window. As she did so she pulled
her handkerchief from her pocket, and a
folded paper fluttered slowly to the ground.
There was an almost imperceptible inter
change of glances, and then, as the ladies
swept on, the young man stooped and lift
ed the fallen paper.
Was that done by accident or design V
inquired the second of the two friends ;
and the other answered only by a grave
glance, that told the opinion he had feared
to form. In another moment he had lifted
his hat to . Mrs. Bryant, and wits shaking
tier cordially by the hand. But the pleas
ire, of his renewed acquaintance, with a
riiidy,lictlad highly esteemed .from his
youth, was marred by the thoughta awak-
ened by the incident he had just witnessed.
The acquaintance thus re-commenced
was not suffered to die out. By Mrs.
Bryant's invitation, Mr. Selden bonnie a
frequent visitor to her house.
In company with his friend, Malten, in
whose company we first saw him, and who
was something more than a friend of the
sprightly Emeline, he spent many an
evening at this hospitable home. Here,
and elswhere, he had many opportunities
of observing the conduct of Anna. Her
beauty continued to make a strong im
pression upon him, though he did not fail
to note imperfections which Mr. Malten
bad pointed out, and to be painfully affect
ed by them. 'iley denoted a singular
lack of balance and of harmony in her
character; and he soon had occasion to see
that frankness and straightforward honesty
formed no part of it.
Winning and gentle in manner, there
was yet at times a demureness that showed
that her external acts were not the key to
her inner emotions. In her society there
was even a painful sense of something hid
den of a mind occupied with different, far
different thoughts and designs from any
that appeared on the surface. Had not his
attention been so early called to her de
feats, he might not have so soon distrusted
her especially as she betrayed toward him
that flattering deference which, coming
from a beautiful and intelligent girl, it so
difficult for any man, and especially a
heart free bachelor, to resist.
The young man who had encountered
her in, the street on the day of his first
meeting with the family, Mr. Seldon
never met at Mrs. Bryant's house. Bat
he often saw him on the promenade, and
in all public places. More than once he
witnessed, himself unobserved, a meeting
between him and Anna. And he could
not but perceive that there was an under
standing between them, even before he
chanced to meet them at a rural resort, a
few miles from the city, where they were
walking arm in arm and in close conversa
tion, so absorbing that they did not ob
serve him until he was close upon them.
Anna started and blushed on seeing him.
But she only returned his salutation by a
slight bend, and seemed undisposed to
prolong the encounter. He returned to
the city by the same boat that conveyed
her, but she was no longer accompanied
by the person he had seen in her society.
There was a party of young friends upon
the boat, and Anna remained with them
until just before reaching the city. Then,
as by apparent accident, she sought Mr.
Selden's side ; and while expressing her
surprise at meeting him, contrived to ex
plain that the person ho had seen in her
company was an accidental acquaintance,
who had overtaken her when she had care
lessly lost sight of her friends, and had
volunteered to take her to them. Her
manner and smile were very winning, as
she added :
I should have mentioned this, Mr. Sel
den, only that I feared you might speak to
my mother of having met me in the com
pany of a stranger, and thus cause her
alarm. Poor mamma ! she is so tremb
lingly watchful over Emeline and me that
it seems very cruel to cause her a mo
ment's uneasiness. So please don't men
tion this foolish contretemps, Mr. Selden.'
Disgusted and contemptuous at her
plausible falsehood, Selden could only bow
his head. He dared not trust himself to
speak, and ha only hoped that his stately
bend might not be taken as an assent to
her request. He bad never been so sorely
puzzled. The character of informer was
most distasteful to him, and yet it seemed
the plain duty of si me friend to inform
Mrs. Bryant of Anna's frequent associa
tion with a person who was not admitted to
her home.
Months before, Mr. Malten had given
him the first proof of Anna's systematic
deception of her mother. But Malten had
long been intimate with the family, and he
was now the promised husband of Emeline
Bryant. Yet he had not spoken, and
sl ould one who had no such claim to be
admitted to the family confidence intrude
such evil tidings 7
Several days passed away, during which
he debated the subject in his own mind,
and did not present himself at Mrs. Bry
ant's. At the close of this period, as he
was walking just at sunset in some nearly
deserted gardens, he spin encountered
Anna in company with the obnoxious indi
vidual. They were seated on a bench in
a retired part of the grounds, in earnest
conversation. They did not see him, and
after a few minutes separated. As they
rose the man's last audible words reached
Mr. Selden's ear.
I shall be there with the carriage at
nine precisly. Do not fail me.'
No, not to-night. I am going out with
Emmie and Mr. Malten. As we first plan
ned that will be much better.'
She gave her hand to her companion,
and he raised i t to his lips. Then in
silence they sought a different exit.
That evening Mr. Selden was early at
Mrs. Bryant's. He had determined to
delay no longer a communication that every
moment rendered more important. , He
doubted not now that Anna was about to
( lope with the ill-looking fellow in whose
company he had so often seen her.
While hesitating how to introduce the
subject Mrs. Bryant aided him by remark
ing her satisfaction in the prospect of
Emeline's approaching marriage to Mr.
Malten, a man whose character and dispo
sition, as well as his social and business
position, left nothing to be desired.
I can only hope,' she added that
Anna may be as fortunate. She has caused
me much solicitude. Two or three years
since she made the acquaintance of Mark
Shelden, a young man of good origin, but
incorrigibly given over to dissolute habits,
vulgar in his manners, and except in a
certain bold, dashing sort of good looks,
entirely unprepossessing. He was very
determined in his pursuit of her, and I
was obliged to exclude him from the list
of our visitors. Since that time Arms has
yielded to my representations, and ceased
to acknowledge his acquaintance. But
she has never seemed to enjoy the society
of others as much, or to be quite herself
since that time. I sometimes fear that
Shelden had obtained so strong a hold
upon her heart as to render her unable to
forget him, though it is difficult to under
stand how a person of her refined tastes
can ever tolerate him. My only hope is
that she may yet win the affection of some
worthy man, and forget her quondam
lover.'
Here was an opening not to be lost ;
and though he knew his words must give
deepest pain to the mother's heart, 'Mr.
• • I of: Y : T:I OBT P :, c 0178 'VI I: 00 I - .8 :r ILIWARD.''--BIIOIIANI/Nr
LANCASTER CITY. PA, TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 20, 1863.
Shelden dared not hesitate longer. In as
few words as possible he told all he knew
and had seen, and then placed himself and
services at drs. Bryant's disposal.
He had hardly concluded when a hasty
ring at the bell announced visitors, and in
a moment more Emeline and Malten
entered, in bete, and almost breathless
with consternation. The tidings they
brought blanched the mother's face with
dread, and braced the nerves of Mr. Bel
den to an exertion which might avert the
threatened disgrace from the beloved
family.
An hour before a note had been handed
in at the door of the friend's house whom
the Misses Bryant were visiting, addressed
to Anna. Immediately after receiving it
she had retired to the chamber where her
wraps had been deposited,- had been ob
served to read it there with many marks
of agitation, and soon after had departed
quite alone, and only seen by the servant
who let her out. Emeline had been in
another apartment, and ignorant of her
sister's departure for a considerable time.
Even now she could not form a theory of
the cause of her strange conduct, though
it was easy to perceive the suspicions of
Mr. Malten took the same course as those
of the mother and Mr. Selden.
It is unnecessary here to describe the
pirsuit of the fugitive. It is sufficient
that it was successful, and that ere morn
ing Anna was discovered, and induced by
the entreaties of Mr. Bolden and Mr.
Malten to return home. In another hour
she would have been the wife of Mark
Shelden.
Mr. Selden was the most generous of
men. As months passed, and he saw Anna
—pale, subdued, and apparently deeply
penitent and sorrowful for her fault—he
could not find it in his heart to withhold
the forgiveness her every act and look
seemed to crave. He first pitied, then
sought to excuse for her conduct. Per
haps her mother had been harsh in her
dismissal of Mark Sheldon, and a feeling
of generous indignation at any injustice
toward him might have served to excite
her imagination, and cause her to bel,eva
that she loved him, and to be willing to
make amends by becoming hid wife.
I hese men—men of Mark Sheldon's
stamp—have specious tongues," he would
repeat to himself. The poor girl was
d,tubtlass deceived in his character, and
with generous trust believe all his promises
and protestations. She is very young and
inexperienced ; surely I, who, with greater
age and wider knowledge of mankind, do
err many a time and oft, have no right to
judge her harshly.'
If he had added that her gentle type of
beauty was always most attractive to him
—that only his early knowledge of her
deceit had prevented his loving her from
the first—he might have made a plainer
statement of the case, and might have ar
rived at a more satisfactory analysis of his
present feelings.
The I ruth was that he loved Anne Bry
ant, as he should have known, the moment
he found himself thoroughly forgiving her,
for nothing else could have been such
convincing proof of the fact.
Scarcely more than a year after her
elopement with Mark Sheldon, Anna Bry
ant became the wife of Mr. Selden. She
had received his addresses humbly rnd
gratefully, had pleaded her unworthiness,
when he asked her to become hie wife, but
had yielded to his entreaties. Afterwards
she had responded to his manifestations of
affection with a half shy, half reluctant
tenderness, that, while it left no room for
doubt, fascinated him into complete for
getfulness of her past life.
Her oharacter seemed to have under
gone an entire change. fhat she had for
gotten her former love, and had given het
heart unreservedly to the present one, no
one but Mr. Matten seemed to doubt. He
had found his warnings disregarded, and
had therefore wisely kept silence, after the
engagement was announced. His heart
alone sunk with a sudden weight and chill
of misgiving when he saw his friend stand
at the altar with a bride whom he mental
ly characterised " false as fair."
For a long time his fears seemed des-
tined to no realization. Shelden was hap
py. There was no cloud upon the horizon
of his life's hopes ; there might have been
a shadow, but it was so dim that even he
was scarcely conscious of it. It was a
necessity of his nature to trust. fully when
he trusted; and when two or three pretty
instances of deceit on the part of Anna
came to his knowledge, her pretty peni
tence speedily won his forgiveness, and he
firmly believed that these were but the
last struggles of a temptation she was
fast overcoming forever.
Mark Sheldon had left the city soon
after his plans were thwarted in•the elope
ment. When Anna had been married
about two years, he again made his ap
pearance there. Rumor said he had been
living a wild and lawless life in some of
the southwestern cities, and certainly his
countenance bore deep impress of a dissi
pated career. A man more utterly repul
sive in his aspect to a woman of refine
ment, would seldom be met outside the
haunts of the fraternity to whom he now
openly belonged.
It is not known how or in what manner
Anna renewed her acquaintance with him,
though 'after revelations favored the be
lief in the minds of many persons that
she had never lost sight of him, nor
ceased her intercourse. That she had re
newed it was known to most of her ac
quaintances, and more than one person
had seen her in his company before any
one oould summon courage enough to point
out the fact to her husband.
So, hesitating from day to day, while
rumor made itself busy with the name of
Anna Selden, no lips uttered the tale of
her folly until too late. She eloped with
Mark Sheldon, and this time her plans
were too well arranged to admit of failure.
Daring her husband's temporary absence
she left her home, and her infant son in
the cradle, left all the delights and lux
uries that love had gathered about her,
and the sure protection of a generous and
faithful affection—to accompany the ruin
ed gamester upon his precarious and sin
ful career.
Seek her, if you will,' Mr. Selden said
to Mr. Malten, now the husband of Eme
line Bryant. Draw on me for all needed
monies; but do not bring her before my
sight. Henceforth she must
.be dead to
me. I have loved, and trusted, and for
given. Henceforth Uwe and - trust are
dead, and forgiveness impossible. And
yet, for the sake of many sweet memo
ries, I would have here saved from deeper
degradation, more complete ruin?-
Bat for many a year the quest was
vain. The heart-broken mother performed,
as well as she might, the offices so heart
lessly neglected, to the child of her
daughter. Mr. Selden united his house
hold to hers, and was a Son to her. But
gloom rested upon that once happy home,
which a daughter's and a wife's trangres
sions had filled with unutterable sorrow.
Forever, in this life, the innocent suffer
for the guilty, and bear the heavy pangs
of sorrow for the wrong-doing of the be
loved one.
And so the years passed slowly away.
One wintry morning, a woman's form,
half concealed in the whirling snow,
crouched within the doorway of a lofty
mansion. In the early dawn it lay there,
and when the sun stole up and threw its
rays down between the rows of tall houses,
it was then so motionless that the few
passers, at that early hour, were puzzled
to know whether sleep or death enchained
her there.
One, more bold or carious than the
rest, ran down the area, and repeated to
the wondering servant the surmises that
the little group assembled in the street
had been bandying among themselves.
The door was opened, a shriek of alarm
from the old servant's lips disturbed the
inmates of the house at their meal, and
presently strong arms had lifted and borne
into the hall the still cold form.
Pale brown, sunken cheeks and hands
all hardened and knotted by toil, were
there. Rags wrapped the form from
which all grace had not fled even with the
rigidity of death. But the well remem
bered hair of sunny brown, with the rip
ple of gleaming gold in its glossy length,
betrayed the wanderer's name though
many a line of silver' streaked its bright
tresses. Anna Bryant had come home to
die upon her mother's threshhold.
They bore her in, and laid her down at
the feet of three whose lives her sin had
made all sorrowful—the mother, the hus
band, the bright haired boy who could
couple his mother's name only with shame.
What a warning in her sad career
Stooping to deceit in her youth, living
for years an acted life, accepting an hon
orable love only to trample upon it, wear
ing an honorable name only to sully it
with shame, bestowing upon her innocent
child a heritage of disgrace, and plung
ing at last into a career from which there
was no return, she but exemplified, the in
evitable law of the swift gradations of
vice. No girl who wilfuly and syste
matically deceives an affectionate parent,
ought ever to be trusted in any relation of
life. And he who takes such an one as
his wife does so at a peril he can little es
timate.
JUST AS WELL TO DO IT IN A HURRY.
Why, you see, when my man came a (mart
in' me, I hadn't the least thought of what
he was after—not 1. Jobie came to our
house one night, after dark, and rapped at
the door. I opened it, and sure enough
there stood Jobie right before my fade and
eyes. Come in,' sez I,'and take a cheer,'
'No, Lizzie,'
' sez he, ' I've come on an
arrant, and I always do my arrants fast. '
But you had better come in and take a
cheer, Mr. W—.' No, I can't. The
faot is, Lizzie, I've come on this cotu
business. My wife's been dead these
three weeks, and everything's going to
rank an' rain right straight along. Now,
Lizzie, of you've a mind to hev me, an'
t ike oare of my home, an' my children an'
things, tell me, and I'll come in and take
a cheer; if not, I'll get some one else tu.'
Why, I was skeered, and sed—'lf yon
come on this (martin' business, come in ;
I must think on it a little.' No, I can't
till I know. That's my arrant's done.
I should like to think on't a day or two.''
No, you needn't, Lizzie.' 'Well, John, if
I must, I must— so here's to you, then.'
So Mr. W—came in. Then he went
after the Squire, an' he married us right
off, an' I went home with Jobie that very
night. I tell you what it is, these long
oourtin's don't amount to nothin' at all.
Just as well to do it in a hurry.
A PARISIAN BANKER, very wealthy and
generous, was engaged to marry a young
lady of high rank, and everything was
prepared. The bridegroom had sent in the
corbeille, which was extremely rich, the
diamonds alone being worth over one
hundred thousand francs. Wishing to
enjoy the gratification of his bride, he fol
lowed closely on the heels of his present,
and finding no one in the parlor, he enscon
ced himself in a window behind the ourtin.
Presently a whole bevy of girls fluttered in
to the room, and all began talking at once.
'Oh, did you ever see such a beautiful cor
beille ? Louise is lucky ; what a gentleman
husband she will have !' She ought to be
happy, to be sure ; but do you know what
she told me just now I—why, that she
would rather have the corbeille without the
gentleman who gave it.' 'lt can't bi—
see never said so.' 'She certainly did, and
there she is—ask her for yourself. Louise
didn't you tell me you would rather have
the corbeille alone without Mr. ?'
'Yes, I say so ; but that's between our
selves.' 'Much obliged to you, madem
oiselle,' said Mr. , coming forward,
'you shall not have either.' So saying, he
coolly put the splendid present under his
arm, and walked off, leaving the ladies in
an embarrassment 'easier conceived than
expressed.'
CO''' An amusing thing occurred in the
Twenty-fourth Ohio. A few days since a
soldier, in passing to the lower part of the
encampment, saw two others from his com
pany making a rude coffin. He inquired
who it was for.
John Bum,' said the others.
Why,' replied he, John is not dead
yet. It is too bad to make a man's ooffin
when you don't know if he is going to die
or not.'
6 Don't trouble yourself, replied the
others. 'Dr. Coe told us to make his
ooffin, and I guess he knows what he gave
him.'
It has been thought that people are
degenerating, because they don't live as
long as in the days Methuselah. But no
body can afford to live long at the current
prices.
1:1 Anatomists say that man changes
every seven -years. Therefore,' says the
inimitable Jones, 'my tailor should not
remind me of the bill I contrasted in
1855—1 ain't the man. 6
irk" s I am all heart,' said a military
- officer tohis eoniradea. 'Pity you're pot
part plink,' said the colonel in 'etniimand.
Worth of Money.
We hear a good deal about the worth
of property. A house is worth ten thong
and dollars ; that lot is worth five thous
and dollars ; a farm is worth eight thous
and; a horse three hundred, and so on
endlessly. This is all very well in its way.
But ought not the question, so petimes, to
be put the other way—how much is a
man's money worth : 1 ' There is a wide;
range, in the value of money than most
persons think. And, upon a littlo inquiry,
I suspeot that it will be found that all
persons who possess it, have a way of
measuring it, not by dollars, but by its
value in some sort of pleasure or article.
One man earns a thousand dollars, and
says to himself—there, that puts me one
step out of debt. Money to him is a means
of personal liberty. A man in debt is not
a freeman. The borrower is a servant
to the lender.'
Another man sees in a thousand dollars
a snug little homestead, a home for his
children, a shelter to his old age, a plane
to live in, and a good place to die in. Bat
his neighbor only sees one more link in
the golden °ludo of wealth. It was only
thirty-nine thousand last month, he is
worth forty this. And his joy is i i the
growing numerals. He 'imagines how it
will sound, full round and hearty, when
men say, he is worth a hundred thousand
dollars.' Nay, when it comes to that, he
thinks five a better sound than one, and
five hundred thousand is a sound most
musical to the ear,—though he loves even
better yet to call it half a million ! The
word million outs a great swath in men's
imaginations. All this estimate of money
is sheer ambition. The man is vain. He
thinks much of himself on account of
money, not of character. A man who is
openly proud of money is secretly con
temptuous of those who have none.
Another man wishes to see the world.
Every dollar means Europe. Two thou
sand dollars means Egypt, Palestine and
Greece.
Boys dealing in small sums reckon the
same way. A penny means a stick of
candy ; a sixpence is bat another term for
a ball ' • shilling means kite, and fifty cents
a jack knife.
young Crack' sees in his money
a skeleton wagon And fast nag, a rousing
trot, a jolly drink, •and. a smashing party.
But many and many a weary soul sees
in every shilling, bread, rent,.fuel, clothes.
There be thousands who hold on to virtue
by hands of dollars ; a few more save
them ; a few less and they are lost.—
Their gay sisters see feathered hats and
royal silks in their money, or rather in
their fathers' and their husbands.
The poor scholar passes daily by the
stall where books tempt his poverty.—
Poor olothes he is content to wear ; plain
and oven meager diet he is willing to sub
sist upon ; and as for all the gay dissipa
tions and extravagant wastes of fashiona
ble life, he looks upon them without even
understanding what they mean, as a child
looks upon the milky-way in the heavens,
a glowing land of far-away and unexplored
wonders. Bat oh, those books ! He looks
longingly at morning ; he peers at them
with a gentle covetousness at night. He
imagines new devices for earning a few
dollars. He ponders whether there is not
some new economy which can save a few
shillings. And when good luck at last
brings a score of dollars to him, with a
fervor of hate does he get rid of them,
fairly running to the stall, and fearing at
every step, lest some fortunate man should
seize the prize. Wastefhl man that night
saw too much oil burnt in poring over the
loyal treasure. Books are what his money
-is worth. But others see different visions.
Money means flowers to them. New roses,
the latest dahlia, the new ()smells, or
others of the great houri band of flowers
that fill the florist's paradise—the garden.
Some men see engravings in money ;
some pictures ; some rare copies of old
books ; some curious missals. Others,
when you say money, think of fruit trees,
of shrubbery, of aboretums, and pluetums,
and fraticetums. And we have reason to
believe that there are some poor wretches
who, not content with
_pc insanity, see
pretty much all things b, turns.
But there are nobler, sights than these
to be seen, through the golden lens of
wealth ; a father and mother placed in
comfort in old age ; a young man helped
through college or established in business ;
a friend extricated from ruin ; a poor wo
man saved from beggary, and made a sup
pliant before God for mercies on your head,
every day that she lives ; the sick and un
fortunate succored, the orphan educated,
the school founded, the village lined with
shade trees, a free library established, and
and a thensand such things. A man is
not known by how much he has, but by
what that money is worth to him. If it is
worth only selfishness, meaness, stinginess,
vanity, and haughty state, a man is not
rich if he own a million of dollats If it
means generosity, public spirit, social com
fort and refinement, then he is rich on a
few hundred. You put your band on a
man's heart to find out how muoh he is
worth, not into his pocket.
A SUBSTITUTE'S OFFER.—Mr. Pilkin
son, a small farmer in Pennsylvania, was
sometime ago drafted for the service of his
country. His wife, though she possesses
but a small stook of general information,
is one of the best conjugal partners, and
she is much troubled at the thought of
parting with her husband. The other day,
as she was engaged in scrubbing off her
door steps, a rough-looking man came up
and thus addressed her :
I hear, ma'am that your husband has
been drafted.'
Yes, sir, he has,' answered Mrs. Pilkin
son, though dear knows there is few men
that could not be better spared from their
families.'
6 Well, ma'am, I've come to offer myself
as a substitute for him.'
A what ?' asked Mrs. Pilkinson, with
some excitement.
' I'm willing to take his place,' said the
stranger.
Yon take the place of my husband, you
wretch! teach you to insult a dis
tressed woman in that way, yon vagabond !'
cried Mrs. Pilkinson, as she discharged
the dirty soap suds in the face of the dis
comfited and astonished substitute, who
took to his heels just in time to escape
having his head broken by the bucket.
Og" Mr. and Mrs. Brewer, of Ken
tucky, are reported to be parents of
twehty-,two children. Rather an extensive
Brewery that. - - -
THE LANCASTER. INTELLIGENCER
. JOB PRINTING ESTABLISNALS.Nr,
No. 8 NORTH DII/CR STREET, LANOAFITHR, PA.
The Jobbing Department is thoroughly IN:nabbed with
new and elegant type of every description, and 11 under
the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer:—
The Proprietors are prepared to
PRINT CHECKS,
NOTES,' LEGAL BLANKS,
BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, CARDS AND CIRCULARS,
PROGRAMMES
PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, AND POSTERS,
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING,
with Eastman, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasons
ble
mete in terme, the c it y ad i
a manner not excelled by any establish
/lir Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise'
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON s SON,
Intelligeneer Moe,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa.
SHEAPPER , S CHEAP BOOR STORE
No. 32 NORTH QVRRIV STRBET
IS THE PLACE TG PURCHASE
SCHOOL BOOKS A SCHOOL STATIONERY
,COMPRISING ALL /lei VARIOUS
READING AND SPELLING BOOKS,
ARITHMETICS AND ALGEBRAS,
GRAMMARS AND ETYMOLOGIES,
DICTIONARIES AND HISTORIES,
PHILOSOPHIES, &0., &o.
COPY AND COMPOSITION BOOKS,
LETTER, CAP AND NOTE PAPER,
BLANK—BOOKS, SLATES,
LEAD AND SLATE REVCILS,
PENS AND HOLDERS, INK,
INKSTANDS, RULERS,
and the beat and most complete assortment of
SCHOOL STATIONERY IN THE CITY.
W Llberardiscounts made to Teachers and Merchants
at JOHN SHEAFFER'S
Cheap Cash Book Store,
82 North Queen street, Lancaster.
tf 40
IT AIR DRESSING AND SHAVING
SALOON.
_ -
SAMUEL J. WILLIAMS takes pleasure in notifying his
numerics friends and customer*, that he has removed Ida
Saloon from Cooper's Hotel to the basement under Peter
M'Conomy's Shoe Store. in West King street, near the
Market House, and has fitted It up in new and elegant style
or the accommodation of customers.
HAIR DRESSING, SHAVING AND SHAMPOONING
done in. the m at scientific and fashionable style, and his
tonsorial operations are performed with the greatest ease
and comfort to all concerned.
He will also color the hairswl whiakers, and,Ernarantee
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.
Air Don't make a mistake and get into the wrong shop.
Recollect, it is immediately under M'Conomy'e Shoe Store.
apr 15 tf 141 S. J. WILLIAMS.
F INE WATCHES! RICH JEWELRY
SILVER WARE! SILVER
PIE, CAKE AND BUTTER KNIVES.
SUGAR, OREAM AND OYSTER SPOONS.
SOUP AND OYSTER LADLES,
SPOONS, FORKS, Ac., ao.
LA INST SarnrA Alen Box WORKMANSHIP.
SILVER-PLATED WARE I SILVER-PLATED WAKE
BASKETS, CASTORS, PITCHERS, MUGS,
SPOONS, FORKS, Ac., ao.,
JUST PROM THE FACTORIES.
WATCHES! WATCHES!! WATCHES!
WASSANT.ICD
CHEAP I CHEAP II CHEAPII
CLOCKS! CLOCKS!! CLOCKS!!
JEWEL Y JEW J WELRYI
R GE
I S, COLMIEV
E T R pida y reolja.
LLTIBT BITLVI AND }MST QIILLITT.
HARRY Z RHOADS,
22.3,- WHIST KING STIII.III,
Between Cooper's Hotel end J. G. Getz's Dry GOods Store
dee 17 tf 49
BUILDING SL ATE
THE BEST QUALITIES IN THE MARKET.
The undersigned, having made arrangements with Mr
It. 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 beet quarries in
York county, he has must received a large lot of these
superior qualitities 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 band, an EXTRA LIGHT
PEACH BOTTOM SLATE, intended for Slating 012 Shingle
Roofs.
As these qualities of Slate are THE BEST IN THE
MARKET, Builders and others will Bud it to their interest
to call and examine samples, at my office in WM. D.
SPRECHER'S, New Agricultural and Seed Ware-rooms.
ONO. D. SPRECHER,
N 0.28 East King St., 2 doors West of the Court House.
S 4 - This is to certify that I do not sell my hest quality
of Peach Bottom (lunged Slate to any other person in
Lancaster, than Geo. D. Sprechor, as above elated.
R. JONES,
Manufacturer of Peach Bottom Roofing Slate.
ly 7
JAMES 11. WALTON. THOMAS W. TOOT
WAL TON dc. YOST
BANKERS, BROKERS,
AND
GENERAL COLLECTORS,
No. 25 BoIITH THIRD STEKOT, PHILADELPHLS.
REFERENCES:!
Jay, Cooke & Co., E. P. Middleton & Brother.
James, Kent, Santee & Co., Esherick, Black & Co.,
C. H. M'Klbbln & Son, Hon. Wm. Wilkins,
Hon. James Pollock, " H. D. Foster,
" A. EL Reeder, " Asa Packer,
" Warren J. Woodward, V. L. Bradford, Esq.,
" Geo. Sanderson.
HIGHEST PRICE ---
GOVERNMENT AND OTHEI
STOCKS BOUGHT AND
feb 17
FOB. GOLD AND SILVER.
INTERNISTS OULLEOTED.
BOLD ON COMMISSION.
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THE lINITICD STATES HOTEL.
a ARRIBBEFBEI, PA.
COVERLY & HTITCHISoN, Proprietors.
This well known Hotel is now In a condition to accommo-
date the traveling public, affording the most ample con
veniences alike for the transient guest and permanent
boarder.
THE UNITED STATES HOTEL has been entirely refit
ted throughout, and now has accommodation. equal in
extent, comfort and luxury to any hotel between Phila
delphia and Pittsburg. Its location is the beet in the State
Capital, being in easy access to all the railroad depots, and
in close proximity to all the public offices and business
localities of the city. It has now all the conveniences of
A FIRST—CLASS HOTEL,
and the Proprietors are determined to spare neither ex
pense, time or labor to ensure the comfort of the guests.
The patronage of the traveling public is respectfully
solicited. (June M em 24
pIIBLISHED THIS DAY.
ANNETTE, OR THE LADY OF THE PEARLS,
BY ALEXANDER DUMAS, (Too Youstoss,)
Author of "La Dame aux Candilas," or Camille,
the Camelia Lady." •
Translated from the French by Mrs. Wm. R. A. Johnson,
Esq., of Philadelphia.
ANNETTE! ANNETTE!
THE LADY OF THE PEARLS!
ANNETTE, or THE LADY OF THE PEARLS. By
A LEXABDICH Di71“13, the youdger author of "Camille, or
the Camelia Lady," and translated from the French by
hire. Wm. R. A. Johnson, Esq, of Philadelphia,—is pub—
lished and for sale this day, complete in one large octavo
volume, large type, double column, and prir ted on the
finest and best of white paper. Price Fifty Cents s
copy.
The work Is full of Incident, character and great Inter•
eat, and will have popularity equal to any Work that has
been leaned from the press tor many years, and Is equal,
If not superior to its predecessor, "Camille," by the same
author; For sale at
J. M. WEiTHAFFER%
Cheap Book Store
ap 21. tf 15
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NEW YORK MEDICAL INSTITUTE.
A benevolent Institution endowed for the cure of
Chronic Diseases of every nature, and to protect invalids
from quack advertisers and imposters. No charges except
for medicine until cured, and in case of extreme poverty
treatment free.: No Minerals or. Polsotoons Drugs,
The Physicians have had long and extensive experience
both in private and Hospital practice. The following are
some of the complaints to which special attention is given.
AM diseases of the Head, Throat, Lungs, Heart, Stomach,
Liver, Kidney, Bladder, Rheumatism, Pita, Cancer, Dlir .
Nervous Affections, Diseases of the Sexual Organs, Seminal
Weakness, Impotence and Virulent diseases of every
nature positively cured. Diseases of Ramifies and all
Irregalsrities emcoessfully treated. Blindness and ; lleif.
nese cared without painful operations Patients treated
by letter; by sendingWatgiament - ef their ease. Medicitss
sent to any part of the - rountry. Consultation free to' all.
-
M 314111 DEN...12A% Ctmsultinic Midden;
' 211 . 211 , _ 000 , Broadway'. No* ork
1863.
BALL DRY Goons-.
ore now opening a large stook of goods abed to Pall rim
Cloth Cloaks and aloaktags. .
Cinch*, Stella and Woolen Moths, of the amain (WAIL
Clothe, Cashmeres, Bathkette, Amis. Le.
HOUSE FURNISHING GOOD&
Linens, Damasks, Napkins, Table Clothe. Wansl lir
Quills, Blankets, 'Zaklnge, Cheeks, Mints, .Towellnp, he.
°ABM&
English and Tapestry Brume*
Ingrain and Venetian,
Hag and Hemp Carpets.
OIL CLOTHS, MATTINGB AND RUGS.
CHINA, GLABEI AND QUELENBWAD.7I
Also, a lot of PRIM PEATHERIL
10,000 Pieces Wall Papera,,Deoatstiona And Borden.
The above goods have been purchased at the lowed
market prime, and will be sold at a small advance.
cep 8 tr 3.5 HAGER 4 BBOTRIIIR4.
FALL, 1983. CLOTHING. FALL, 1163.
HA E% & BROTHERS
Have new open a most complete stook of
READY-MADB CLOTHING YOB MEN AND BOIL
AB our Clothing is all manufactured 1n Laniastior, Mid
the materials selected with great care, we can recommend
it with confidence.
A inn Line of
CLOTHS, OASBIMERBS AND VNBTINCIS,
Which will be made up to order, in superior manner, et
abort notice.
SHIRTS, COLLARS, HANDHEIRCEMBPS, NRCH.TERS,
In Great Variety.
T‘R. SWEET'S
D
INFALLIBLE LINIMENT,
THE GREAT EXTERNAL REMEDY.
FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA; Ltritiago,
STIFF NECK AND JOINTS SPRAINS,'BRIIIfits„
CUTS AND WOUNDS, PILES, HEADACHE,
AND ALL RHEUMATIC AND NEB.— -
VOUS DISORDERS.
For all of which It is a speedy and certain remedy mid
never falls. Thin Liniment is prepared from the recipe of
Dr. Stephen Sweet, of Oonnecticut, the fampus Nine setter,
and has been used in his practice (or' more thsalmuity
years with the most astonishing success.
AS AN ALLEVIATOR OF PAIN, Ibis unrivalled by any
preparation before the public, of which the most skeptical
may be convinced by a single trial.
This Liniment will cure, rapidly and radically,. Rioni
matte Disorders of every kind, and in thousands of OMNI
where it has been used It has never been known to tall.
FOR NEURALGIA, it will afford immediate relief la
every case, however distressing.
It will relieve the worst cases of HEADACHE in three
minutes and is warranted to do It.
TOOTHACHE also will it cure instantl .
FOR NERVOUS DEBILITY AND GIINHEAL LASSI—
TUDE arising from imprudence or eared, thicldnlmant Is
a most happy and unfailing remedy: Acting directiy upon
the nervous tissues, it strengthens and revivifies the eye.
tern, and restores it to elasticity and vigor.
FOR PILIIII—As an external remedy, we alalm that it Is
the best known, and we Challenge the world' bh produce an
equal. Every victim of this distressing ooraplaint•ehoold
give it a trial, fotit will not WI to afford' immedhae relief
and in a majority of cases will effect a radical care.
QUINSY AND BORE THROAT are sometimes extremely
malignant and dangerous, but a timely application of this
Liniment will never fall to cum.
SPRAINS are sometimes very obstinate, and online
meat of the joints is liable to occur if neglected. The worst
case may be conquered by this Liniment in two or throe
days.
BRUISES, OUTS, WOUNDS, SORES, ULCERS, BURNS
and SCALDS, yield readily to the wonderful bean pro.
parties of Dr. Sweet's Infallible Liniment when tiled aa
cording to directions. Also, OHILBLAINS, FROSTED
FEET, INSECT BITES and STINGS.
Every Horse Owner ehonid have this remedy at hand,
for its timely use at the filet appearance of Lemons"' will
effectually prevent those formidable dilemma, to which all
horses are liable, and which render so many atheawba
valuable horses nearly worthless. ' -
Over four hundred voluntary teetknoniale to the wandar
ful curative properties of thin Liniment have been received
within the lad two years, and many of them from yarn=
in the highest tanks of life.
DILUTION.
To avoid imposition, observe the Signature and Mamma
of Dr. Stephen Sweet on every label, and also "Stellate."'
Sweet's Infallible Liniment" blown in the glue •of sash
bottle, without which none are genuine.
- 2.IOHARDBON * 00.,
Sole Proprietors, Norwich, OR
For Sale by all Dealers. Dane 16 ly 23
THE ELIXIR OE LEER
Prepared by the underalgned from the origin ' s' re
ceipt, has proved of universal utility as a family medicine,
and is not surpassed, if equaled, as a remedy In the follow
ing complaints, vim
FOR COSTIVENESS,
DYSPEPSIA OR INDIGESTION,
WEAKNESS,
READAIDELE,
PILES,
SUMMER COMPLAINTS,
BEVER AND AGUE
FEMALE COMPLAINTS, and
various other diseases arising from impurity of tha blood
and deranged digestive orgarus.
All who have made a trial of this Elixir, will never be
without a bottle of it at hand.
This valuable Pemily Elixir, can be had wholesale or
ret ail at the Drug Store of the sUbseriber, On the corner
of South Queen and Vine streets, in the City of Lancaster,
Pa. CHARLES GEHELING.
Numerous testimonials of the cures performed b 7 this
Elixir can be shown from persons who have used the tame,
either personally or in the family, of which a few are given
as a sample.
CERTIFICATES:
The truth of the above statement I shoe:tally certify to,
from having given this Elixir a fair trial in my runny:
C. F. REESE, Blillerwrills.
• -
I, the undersigned, having for a considerable time
Buffered from Indigestion or Dyspepsia and Headache, and
after various other remedies tried, found no relief, until I
need Mr. Gehrlng'e Elixir of Life, which won removed
every symptom of the complaint.
When any member of my family becomes unwell all I
have to do la to give a dose of hfr.Gehring'a EBiir of Life,
which speedily removes the complaint and relieves the
patient. LIIOI7B BRUCE, Lancaster, Pa..
I have exceedingly 'infrared, for some time, from female
complaints, and until I ruled Mr. Gehring's 113111 r, (which
can not be too highly recommended,) whichlly re.
stored me to perfect health. JULIANA I OLY,
cep 15 3m 36] Lebanon, Pa.
FANCY FURS I FANCY FURS I I
JOHN FABEDZA,
718 Aeon BTaii
(below Bth south aids
PHILADELPHIA.
Importer, Manufactt
of and Dealer In all Eine
FANCY FURS I
for Ladies' andldrt
Wear.
I wish to return
thanks to my friend[
Lancaster and the a
rounding counties, for tht
very liberal patronage
tended to me during
last few years, and en
say to them that I I
have in store, of my
Importation and Mant
ment of all the (Wrenn
Furs, for Ladies and MlL—
the Fall and Winter sawn&
Being the direct Importer of all my Furs front Itlfc9oe
and having them all Manufactured tinder my own elapw.
vision—enables me to offer my customers and the plane
a much handsomer set of Furs for the same money.
Ladies please give me a call before parch/Wag! Pisan
remember the name, number and street. , •
10Elff 7.1.1111011,
No. 718 Arch ¬, Philadaphla.
fm 36
ANNETTE!
D R. SWEET'S IMPAILLIMLIC
THE REA TER TER NA Z . E.EY - EDT.
FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA, LUMBAGO,
STIFF NECK AND JOINTS, SPRAINS; • BRUISES,
OUTS AND WOUNDS, PILES, MADAME,
AND ALL RHEUMATIC AND NEB=
• votra mown&
___ •
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OF CONNECTICUT, •
The Great Natural Bone Seater.
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, or costmorlouT. •
Is known allover the Nutted Stater.
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OP CONNECTICUT.
Is the author of "Dr. Sweet's Infallible Litiment."
awrisrmasuaor.a LINIMENT
Cures Rheumatism aid never fails.
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LIMIUMT
Is a certain remedy for Neuralgia.
DLL SWEETS INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Cures Burns andlcalds Immediately..
DR SWEET'S INIPALLENT
Is the best known Remedy for Sprains and
DR. SWEET'S MYALLIBLILIJNISIEMS
Cures Headache immediately and was nevocknown to fall
DR SWEET'S INFALLIBLE
Affords imuutdiate relief bar Plies, and aeldOuilalla cure.
DR. SWEETS MAMMA!
001113 Toothaehe In uneMinute._ '
DR. SWIM'S EiTALLIELE
Cures Cute and Wounds immediately and trianietca soar.
DR. SWEET'S INPALDMILE.AJNIIMT
Is the best remedy for Sores in the known WeiliL4 l
DR. SWESTILINPALLIBISI
Has been need by more than 'a mlMois ' ell
praise It s !.. •
DR. SWILETII „MAU , TuLE
Is truly*" friend In need," aad nnat — Y tim.roktiaa ban
It at hand.
- DR. SWINTEtiIgP
Is for sale by all Drunists. • , Prlie- 25
*l'For We bY ill Deplete. -- • • 9i T 24
ita ill s:L ll4 e ,1 4 013,01 ..".92. 25u 7. .
. r A qv Nu r
Drug a Chadoal Star* 112VNIR • • •
NO. 41.
HAGER t WITMER
ILDIB43' DREW GOODS: .
MEN'S WEAR
ANTON ISKAiLaneaster city