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VOL. LICIT
DIEM... LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
/ AMISS TUIRDAT. AT NO. 8 NOSIM DIMS mum,
: . r!•Blr GEO. BANDEELIOIB.4
TERMS.
nasoarei iort.—"fwo Dollars per annum, .payable in ad
- vino& 'No gmbecription discontinued tllitiVall arrear
ages er paid, artless at the option of the Editor.
Arrnialerstanats—Advertisements; not' efeeeding one
- square, (12 liana) will be Inserted three times for one
dollar, and twenty - five cents for each additional liner
. " Those of greeter length in proportion.
- 0 8 Past eta—Such as Hand Bills , Poster!, Pamphlets,
Bialiks,.lisbels, &c; &c., executed with accuracy and on
the shoeteert notice.
"Give Me Three Grains of Coro, Mother."
Inart . old number of the Boston Traveller we find
the following verses, from the pen of. Mrs. A. M•
Edmonds. The Traveller says : " The above words
were the last request of an Irish lad to his mother,
as he was dying from starvation. She found three
grates in the corner of his ragged jacket and gave
them to him. It was all he had : the whole family
were perishing from famine :
(live me three grains of corn, mother,
Only three grains of corn,
It would keep the little life I have
Till the coming of the morn.
I am dying of hunger and cold, mother,
• Dying of hunger and cold,
And half the agony of such a death,
My lips have never told.
It has gnawed at my heart like a wolf, mother,
A wolf that is fierce for blood,
All the livelong day and the night beside,
Gnawing for 10$ of food.
I dreamt of bread in my sleep, mother,
And the sight was heaven to see ;
I woke with an eager, famishing lip,
But you had no bread for me.
How could I look to you, mother,
How could I look to you,
For bread to give your starving boy,
When you are starving too?
For I read the famine in your cheek
And in your eye so wild,
And I felt it in your bony hand
AB you held it on your child.
The Queen has land and gold, mother,
The Queen has land and gold;
While you are forced to your empty breast
A skeleton babe to hold—
A babe that is dying of want mother,
As I am dying now,
With a ghastly look in its sunken eye,
And famine upon its brow.
What has poor Ireland done, mother,
What has poor Ireland done,
That the world looks on and sees no starve,
Perishing one by one?
Do the men of England care not, mother,
The great men and the high,
For the %Faring eons of Erin's Isle,
Wheth they live or die?
There is many a brave heart here, mother,
Dying of want and cold,
While only across the channel, mother,
Are men that roll in gold.
There are rich and proud men, there, mother,
With wondrous wealth to view,
And the bread they fling to their dogs to-night
Would give me life and you!
Come.near to my side, mother,
Come near to my side,
And hold me fondly as you held
My father when he died.
Quick, for I cannot see you, mother,
My breath is almost gone;
Mother! dear mother! ere I die,
Give me three grains of corn!
1N THE OLD CHURCH TOWER
In the old church tower
Hangs the bell,
And above it on the vane,
In the sunshine and the rain,
Cut in gold, Saint Peter stands,
With the keys in his two hands,
And all is well!
In the old church tower
Hangs the bell,
Ton ran hear its great heart beat—
Ah ! so loud, and wild, and sweet,
As the parson says a prayer
Over his happy lovers there,
While all is well!
In the old church tower
Hangs the bell,
Deep and solemn. Hark ! again !
! what passion, and what pain!
With her hands upon her breast,
Some poor soul has gone to rest
Where all is well!
In the old church tower
Range the bell,
A quaint friend that seems to know
All our joys and all our woes;
It is glad when we are wed,
It is sad when we are dead,
And all is well !
INDIAN SUMMER
Without appearing to notice his embar
rassment, 1 said, pointing to the window :
I fear, sir, that I shall be compelled
to trespass further upon your hospitality.'
c You are welcome, sir, to everything
my poor house affords.'
And while he spoke he set the frugal
breakfast upon the table. My entertainer
ate little, but talked more than on the
previous evening. As he avoided allusions
to the singular affair of the night, I made
no mentio i of it, although my curiosity
was deeply excited on the subject.
After breakfast, he opened a small book
case, in a few words drew my attention to
its contents, and then left the room. I
selected a volume of Byron, and, drawing
, sit you down, I a chair to the glowing fire, was soon urn-
And let me wring your heart ; for so i shall, mersed in the passionate poetry of the
If it be made of penetrable stuff.'
—SRA.KSPEABE. melancholy , Childe.'
During the pedestrian tour through
My host did not 1 eturn to the room un-
Wales, about the close of the year, I was til it was time to arrange the table f.tr
overtaken by a terrible snow storm, and, dinner. He excused the plain fare, say
being unfamiliar with the country, soon jag—
lost my way and all hopes of finding it
c He so seldom had a guest in his house
I
again. After wandering about a consider- that he was not prepared to entertain
able time I became overpowered by the 1 them in a proper manner.'
intense cold, and was on the point of : The frugal repast being ended, we took
yielding to the fatal delusion of seeking a seats before the fire. After a tiresome
moment's repose—l had repeated a brief i silence of several minutes, I ventured to
prayer to heaven—and was about sinking ! ask my host if he lived entirely alone.
to the embrace of that sleep which is death, 1 `Alone,' he answered almost fiercely.
when I naught the faint glimmer of a light ,I am never alone, never, never, never !
at a distance. Aroused: by this unexpected' Oh, God ! what a life is mine! No rest
and cheering sight, I renewed my exertions day or night. Thoughts of the gloomy
and succeeded, after a painful struggle, in past all day, and wrestling with torment
reaching the shelter which was to save me ing fiends half the night. And when at
from cruel death. last exhausted nature sinks to- sleep, it is
The house to which I dragged my frozen not repose, for horrible dreams are the
limbs was a rough building of logs, con- nightly companions of my pillow. This
struoted more for strength than beauty. I is life withc ut hope—woe, woe, eternal
applied my stick to the door, which was I woe ! lam lost, lost, forever!'
opened by a man, whose figure was imper-
',attempted to console him with the
ceptible in the surrounding gloom, but his hope of better days in future.
voice struck me as being the saddest I 4 Sir, waste not you' sympathy on me,'
ever heard, he cried, starting up, his eyes blazing
I was led into a room where a blazing with a lurid light, which threw over his
wood-fire welcomed me. I ran eagerly to wan face an awful beauty. ' Happness
its warm embrace, and experienced the can never more be mine. Look at me—
most delightful sensation as my benumbed do you think laughter can dwell on these
limbs yielded to the heat and became suf- lips, or pleasure light up these eyes ? I
fused with a delicious glow. am guilty of agt unnamed crime I There
My host brought me a glass of steaming is no more rest for me in this world or the
hot liquor, and as he handed it to me I next ! Macbeth bath murdered sleep—
availed myself of the opportunity to' look Macbeth shall sleep no more !'
at him more closely. His face was emaci- After uttering this wild wail of despair,
ated even to ghastliness, displaying in the unhappy man came up to me, saying—
every feature the hopeless tyranny cf . , Pardon this vehemence. If you knew
dreadful despair ; his lips, so withered and the quenchless fire that consumes my
bloodless, seemed incapable of smiling; heart, you would excuse and pity me.'
a gloomy fire lighted up his deep-set eyes I was affected even to tears, at the sight
ininarked contrast with his pale and lofty °I.-8° much misery and hopeless despair,
forehead ; his person had once been tall Ind, throwing - my arms around the neck
and elegantly formed, but its beauty wa of this most disconsolate, but most inter=
now marred by* stoop, eating of men, I. begged him to open his
There was a rare grace about this singe - sad heart to me. It was then that he told
hr person; and bis language was exceed- me the following,. '
ingly elegant and refined—but he did not STORY OF THE LOST MAN.
feel'. disposed to talk, Soon after supper, f When .I think of what lam and of
which was as plain as a hermit's, I inti- .what 1. might have been, when I recall the
mated toloy,entertainer that I felt in need reap brightneas of my early years, and
; of repose. He left. the apartment, and/ emilemPiate the dreary _prospect' that
after an absentia of half an hohr,•rettirned awaits me , ?' am filled with despair, for
with the inforirrion that,. My mat wiii i, lost inti?oeneei "oat happiness, lost heaven!
*A.Y.,, " .. . I kTO4s,4letcd 'Me Ap:ii, ' ,lmo i t , I bitgan, rife_ h overt Prospeof of a
Whiralethe s e cond story , which were 1 bright itidllotiotiti;fiiture—Vtkought the
The morn awakes likArooding dove,
With ontstretehed wings of gray;
Thin feathery clouds close in above,
And build a sober day.
No motion in the deeps of air;
No trembling in the leaves ;
A still contentment everywhere,
That neither laughs or grieves
A shadowy veil of silvery sheen
Bedims the ocean's hue;
Save where the boat has torn between
A track of shining blue.
Dream on, dream on, 0 dreamy day !
The very clouds are dreams;
That eland is dreaming far away,
And is not where it seems.
REMORSE, OR A DOUBLE
II):11 00 1131
two rooms. With a key that he carried,
he opened one of the rooms, and inviting
me to enter, departed with a single good
night. •
The chamber was plain in the extreme,
and would have been cheerless, but for a
wood fire that blazed on the hearth. A
bed, two chairs and a washstand comprised
all the furniture. I soon threw off my
clothes, and, committing my weary body
to the conch which was spread opposite to
the fire-place, sank into a refreshing slum
ber.
My sleep was visited by a dream ; I was
overtaken by a snow storm, and, losing my
way, was wandering about for some place
to shelter me during the night, when I
Caine upon a solitary house in a thick
wood ; upon applying for admission, I was
ushered into a room where six or eight
men and women sat around a table playing
cards. They all started up on my entrance,
and came around me with menacing looks
and gestures, while some of them bran
dished sticks and knives about my face
with the most horrible cries.
At times I started from my sleep, and
the same dreadful sound filled my ears ; I
heard the most piteous cries of My God,
forgive me !"l )h Lord, pardon me !' fol
lowed by loud and repeated blows, and
most heartrending supplications for mercy.
These were-succeeded by fierce exclama
tions of Wretch I yon deserve torture,
death and hell !'
These fearful words were followed by a
struggle, during which I heard cries of
mercy, mercy, mercy !' succeeded by sobs
and groans. All these frightful sounds
seemed to proceed from the loom adjoining
Perhaps my host was being mur-
With this thought I sprang from bed,
lighted my lamp from the dying embers of
the fire, and went to the door of the next
chamber. The sounds had now ceased,
and everything was as quiet as the grave.
I rapped. No reply. Perhaps he was
dead ! At last a voice which I knew was
that of my strange host, demanded :
What do you want ?'
6 I want to know the cause of the cries
and struggles I've just heard, and which
seemed to come from this room,' I an-
swered.
You had better go to sleep and allow
others to do the same,' was his coarse re
ply.
I returned to my chamber, pondering
over the events of the night.
On rising the following morning, I
looked out of the window, and perceived
that the snow storm still continued with
unabated fury. After dressing, I de.
emended to the room occupied the previous
evening, where I discovered my host bowed
down over a table, on which lay a miniature
of a lady. He was so absorbed in con
templating the picture before him, that, he
did not notice me as I entered and took a
position, in order to study his most inter
esting face. A feeling of awe came over
me as I regarded the noble ruin. 1 was,
indeed, fascinated by that face, which, in
spite of the ravages of disease and despair,
still bore the remains of no ordinary
beauty. There was a strange mystery
about the man that excited my liveliest
curiosity, and recalling what I had heard
since my brief residence with him, it
struck me that he
Could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul.'
Whip my eyes were rivAed upon the
Interesting object of speculation, he pas
sionately kissed the picture, and, rising,
he encountered my earnest gaze, and
Started like a guilty thing.'
"THAT 00IIIITZT IS TICS MOST PROSPISOUS WIIMM LABOR COMMANDS THE. ORMATIST BMWAILD."--BUOHANAN.
LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 3, 1863.
golden dreams of my youth were about to
be realized—everything looking so beauti
ful, so enchanting, so alluring—when all
my towering hopes were destroyed at onoe
and forever.
Before telling you the horrid secret
that, like a raging fire consumes my heart,
I wish to revert, for a brief perio.l, to the
innocent and happy days of my boyhood
at Greenway Park, the family residence.
6 My father was a very stern man, and
full of pride for the family of which he
was the head. My mother, on the con
trary, was one of those sweet angelic
beings who are more fitted for the heaven
ly spheres than for an earthly habitation.
I had no sister, but one brother, Richard,
who was five or six years older than I,
and during the whole of the rose-colored
days of my youth, he was at college, while
I remained at home amid the delightful
bower of Greenway Park.
'Oh ! happy days of my boyhood, when
everything was bright and beautiful ? Oh,
days of sunshine and flowers, when I was
without a sorrow, witnout a care, without
a orime—oh! priceless, precious boon of
innocence and peace!
Thus passed the blissful period of my'
youth, until I was eighteen years old,
when the event happened which was des
tined, after a brief but sweet dream, to
change the color of my life from sunshine
to shadow, from light to darkness—to
make me what I am.
A few months before my departure to
Oxford to complete my education, Lillian
Paget, my father's ward, came to reside
at Greenway Park. She was one of the
richest heiresses of England.
'Lillian was just entering upon her
seventeenth year when she came to our
house, which she lighted with her lovely
presence as the moon does the starry
night. My brother being absent on his
travels, I became Lillian's companion.—
We sailed on the silvery lake, we rode,
walked, and studied together. I was soon
convinced that she was to have a control
ing influence over my destiny. How many
delightful hours did I pass with Lillian in
the old library reading our favorite au
thors. She possessed a voice of heart
touching sweetness, and to hear her read
the picture page of Scott and the glowing
poems of Byron, let an additional charm
to the writings of those unrivaled geniuses
Lillian's mind was cultivated far beyond
her years ; her learning, indeed, was im
mense, and embraced branches of knowl
edge very seldom pursued by her sex.—
Her splendid talents commanded the most
profound respect, and I yielded myself,
unreservedly, to her guidance on all sub
jects appertaining to literature.
Sometimes, when conversing upon her
favorite topics, her deep blue eyes would
glow with a glorious beauty, and strains
of eloquence that astonished and enchan
ted me burst from her rosy lips. Her
beauty, then, appeared superior to that of
the daughters of earth—it recalled what I
read of the lovely Houris of the Mahome
dan Paradise.
I could not be the daily companion of
this fascinating woman without loving her.
It was as natural for me to love Lillian as
it was for the eagle to love the glorious
sun. I loved her more than my life, more
than my soul—she was my queen, my
goddess, my idol ! She made this world
a paradise to me. A smile from her was
worth more than the applause from mil
lions.
Thus passed away the summer like a
delicious dream, until the time arrived for
me to depart to college. After spending
three years at Oxford, I took my degree,
and returned to Greenway Park. Great
changes had taken place , in the beloved
home of my boyhood ; my brother bad
come back, after a long and extravagant
sojourn on the continent. He had mingled
in the best society of Paris and Rome,
where his fascinating manners had made
him a universal favorite. His brilliant
career abroad had completely spoiled him
for a residence at Greenway Park, and
soon after his return a new order of things
began.
:The heavy antique furniture 'of the
parlors was banished up stairs, and the
rooms arranged after the French manner.
The walls were ornamented with superb
mirrors which reached from the floor to
the ceiling. silken curtains were suspended
from the windows, and gorgeous carpets
covered the floors. Visits were exchanged
with the neighboring gentry, and balls
and parties given. My brother's word
was the law of the Medes and Persians to
the whole house—even my stern father
yielded to the impetuous Richard, while
my gentle mother dare not open her lips.
But the change that Struck a mortal
blow to my heart was the demeanor of Lil
lian towards rne. She was no longer the
genial, frank companionable creature of
other days. The cause of this was soon
made known to me. She and Richard
were to be married. The expenses
of my brother abroad, and the innovation
rt home, had exhausted the family re
sources, and my father only saw one way
of getting out of the difficulty, and that
was the marriage of Richard and Lillian
—thus scouring her immense wealth for
the future head of the family.
My brother acted according to this
suggestion, paid Lillian the most flatter
ing and assiduous attentions, brought all
his extraordinary fascinating powers to aid
his suit, addressed her and was accepted.
The wedding wes appointed to take place
two weeks from the day of my return to
Greenway Park. •
• The second day after my arrival at
Greenway Park my brother went to Lon
don to make, arrangements for his ap
primehing wedding. After his departure
the house resumed ite old state of peace
and quiet, but there was no peace for me.
Wherever I went I was reminded of the
sweet days of the past, never, never to re
turn. Lillian's lovely spirit pervaded
' every . spot.
'he days dragged their slow lengths
along until the second day from that which
was appointed for the wedding. My
brother was expected bank that evening,
and, knowing that it was the last opportu
nity, I proposed to Lillian a sail on the
lake. She consented, and we set out. It
' seemed so much like old times to be danc
ing over the bright waters of the glassy
lake, with Lillian for my companion. My
, memory was so busy with the past that
for several minutes I did not speak.
At last, however, I ventured to allude
to the blissful days which I had passed in
her society when she first came to Green
' "way Park—how madly I had loved her—
J the sweet
,hqpes I had built, and how they
had to the - ground, leaving we no-
thing but darkness and despair. She lis
tened calmly to my passionate language,
and when I had concluded, said :
g I took an interest in you, as I should
have done with any young man under the
circumstances, but never felt for you any
thing like love. Your mind was not ma
tured enough for me. I °bald not marry
a man who had acknowledged himself in
ferior to me for instruction. A man to
wiu my love must captivate my mind as
well as my fancy. In short, I could not
love a man who I could not admire.'
These cool, nutting words, were little
calculated to soothe my wounded heart.
When I had expected to receive at least
consolation, I received insult. I was not
only rejected, but spurned with contempt.
This aroused all the pride of the Green
ways that slumbered in my breast.
While yet smarting under the wound,
the foul fiend whispered :
Will you let another possess her whom
you love ?'
This horrid idea took immediate pos
session of my mind, and turning fieroely
towards her I, esolaimd,:
Lillian Paget, no power on earth can
make me yield you to another. You must
this instant swear to niarry me, or by
Heaven ! I will drown you like a dog !
Speak !' I cried, savagely, be mine or
die !'
As I spoke, I seized and held her over
the water.
I have promised to marry your brother,
and I cannot break my promise,' was her
faint reply.
c Die, then !' I oried, dashing her into
the lake.
Before going down, she stretched forth
her arms towards me, and in accents that
would have moved a demon, implored me
to save her.
W ill you be mine '?' I demanded.
I cannot,' was her answer, and the
next moment she sank beneath the water.
6 An awful stillness seemed to fill the
air and water at the consummation of this
horrid orinie. I sailed to the shore with my
heart torn with conflicting passions. Oa_
landing, my brother came from behind a
tree that stood on the border of the lake,
and asked for Lillian, his bride.
What do I know about your bride 1 I
am not her keeper.'
Oh, tell me what you have done with
my promised wife ! You have murdered
my Lillian ? Give me back my bride !"
Go seek your bride !' I yelled, seizing
him, and with demoniac fury hurling him
against the • tree:
I He fell to the ground without a groan.
My brother was dead, and I was his mur
derer!
6 Full of consternation for the crimes I
had committed, I rushed to the house, and
taking a few articles belonging to me fled
from England.
In the gay oity.of. Paris I tried to bury
my remorse in the sparkling Lethe of dis
sipation. The effort was in vain. Lillian's
pleading face and my brother's mangled
form were_ always before me.
After wandering like Cain, a fugitive
over the earth, for ten years, I returned to
England, so altered that my own mother
would not have known me. But that be . -
loved mother had passed from the land of
sorrow to the enjoyment of heavenly beat
itude. She did not survive the tragical
death of Lillian and Richard more than a
month, and after dragging along a weary
existence for a year longer, my father sank
broken.hearted into the grave.
Greenway Park was deserted and fall
ing to ruins. I turned sadly away, and
after wandering about for s week, came
upon this barren spot, which I selected for
my habitation. as it accorded so well with
my forlorn, my lost life.'
Taking up a Collection.
Rarely have we% better story, or a bet
ter told story, than this, from a reverend
gentleman in Missouri :
The life of a preacher in a new country,
from a secular point of view, is hardly as
smooth and free from difficulty as a posi
tion in more cultivated populous commu
nities usually appears to be. The people
are thinly scattered here and there, in dif
ferent pursuits, though chiefly agricultural.
Being collected from all parts of the
older Sates, and gathered from every class
of society, they meet upon the same com
mon ground, upon terms of easy familiarity,
andrestrained by no irksome conventionali,
ties. People in a new country generallyhave
a pretty hard time of it. They live a sort
of a 'rough and tumble' life, wearing out
their best efforts in a struggle for existence.
Under these circumstances the material
sometimes absorbs the spiritual ; and the
people not unfrequently 'get so far behind'
with the preacher that they have frequent
ly to be powerfully 'stirred up' from the
pulpit. On one occasion we had a visit
from the presiding elder of our district at
one of our quarterly meetings. We had
not paid our circuit preacher 'nary dime,'
as the boys say, and we expected a scoring
from the elder. Well, we were not disap
pointed. The elder Breached us a moving
discourse from the text, Owe no man
anything.' At the close of his sermon he
came at once to the 'subject in hand.'
d3rethren,' said he, 'have you paid Brother
---anything this year 1 Nothing at all,
I understand. Well, now, your preacher
can't live on air, and you must pay up—
pay up, that's the idea. .He needs twen
ty-five dollars now, and must have it !
Steward, we'll take up a collection now.'
Here some of the audience near the
door began 'to slide out'
Don't run ! don't run !' ezolaimed
the elder. Steward, look that door and
fetch me the key !' he continued, coming
down out of the pulpit and taking his seat
by the stand table in front.
The steward looked the door, and then
deposited the key on the table by the side
of the elder.
Now, Steward,' said he, 'go round with
the hat. 1 must have twenty-five dollars
out of this crowd before one of you shall
leave this house;'
Here was a fix. The congregation were
taken all aback. The old folks looked as
tonished ; the young folks tittered. The
steward gravely proceeded in the dis
charge of his official duties. The hat was
passed around, and at length deposited on
the elder's table. --
The elder poured out the funds on
the table and counted the amount.
s Three dollars and a half ! A slow
start, brethren ! Go round, again, Stew
ard. We must pull np a heap stronger
than that !'
Around went. the Steward with his hat
again and finally palled Aip at the elder's
stand.
Nine dollars and three qnarters ! Not
enough yet. Go around, again, Steward !'
Around went the steward again.
Twelve dollars and a,half ! Mighty
slow, brethren! 'Fraid your dinners will
all get cold before you get home to eat
Go round again, Steward !'
By this time the audience began to be
fidgety. They evidently thought the joke
was getting to be serious. But the elder
was relentless. Again and again circula
ted, the indefatigable hat, and slowly, but
surely, the pile on the table swelled to
wards the requisite amount.
Twenty-four dollars and-a half ! Only
lack half a dollar. Go round again stew
ard !'
Just then, there was a tap on the window
from the outside , a hand was thrust in
holding a half dollar between the thumb
and finger, and a young fellow outside ex
claimed :
Here, Parson, here's your money ; let
my girl out o'there ; I'm tired with wait
ing for her.'
It was the last hair that broke the cam
el's bank ; and the preacher' eould exclaim
in the language of 41ke Turtle' ;--c This
'ere meeting done bust up.'
ARTEMAS WARD ON GHOSTS.—The
showman is delivering a lecture on Ghosts
in the principal Eastern cities preparatory
to his starting for the West. His adver
tisement in the New York papers is unique.
He is 'permitted to refer' to a number of
persons, among whom are 'James Bu
chanan, Wendell Phillips, Mr. Czar of
Russia, Sylvanns Cobb, Jr., the Bedouin
Arabs, Young Albert Wales and wife,'
&c. The following certificates also ap
pear :
ARTRIKAS WARD :
Dear Sir—l have never heard any of
your lectures, but from what I can learn I
should say thatlfor people who like the
kind of lectures you deliver, they are just
the kind of lectures such people like.
Yours, respectably,
ARTEMAB WARD
RESPECTED SLR-My wife was afflicted
with the pipsywipsy in her head for nearly
eight years. The doctori all gave her up.
But in a fortunate moment she went to
one of your leeturee, and commenced re
covering very rapidly. She is now in
perfect health. We like your lectures
very much. Please send me a box of
them. They are purely vegetable. Send
me another five dollar bill and Pll write
you another certificate twice as long as
this.
Yours, &c., AMOS PILKINS
And 1,000 others.
A Squinting Jury.
Once upon a time, or, to be a little
more particular, neaaly half a century ago,
(for the editor of this paper well remem
bers the time, place, and scene, which are
firmly fixed upon his boyish recollections,)
there dwelt in the town of—, in old
England, a remarkable oddity, in the per
son of an attorney at law, who although
not fair to look upon, (for he was in truth
one of the homeliest specimens of humn
ity ever beheld by mortal man,) was withal
a person of sound judgement, great benev
olence, varied learning, a poet, a painter,
and a wit of no mean order.
It so happened that the aforesaid gentle
man, G. G—, Esq., was appointed high
sheriff of the town of —. He was a man
of fortune, and had a kind heart, as
many a poor prisoner could testify who
partook of the good cheer with which the
prisoners were liberally supplied at Christ
mas and other well known festivals, from
the private purse of the high sheriff.
It was, of course, the duty of the high
sheriff to summon a grand and petit jury
to attend at the quarter sessions, of which
the recorder, mayor, and aldermen of tle
borough composed the court. In the per
formance of his official duty in summon
ing the petit jury, our sheriff indulged in
some of the strangest and drollest freaks
that have probably ever been heard of in
any other town or country. In the first
place he summoned for the October court
a jury consisting of twelve of the fattest
men he could find in the borough, and when
they came to the book to be sworn, it ap
pered that only nine jurors could sit com
fortably in the box ! After a great deal
of sweating, squeezing and scolding, the
panel was literally jammed into the box,
and when seated they presented to the eye
of the court, the barristers, and the andi
enoe, the tightest fit' of a jury that was
ever seen in a court room. Literally they
became, much to the astonishment of the
court and its robed advocates, a packed
jury' and no mistake.
For the January term, our facetious
high sheriff (in consequence, it is said, of
some hint from the recorder that there
should be no more fat panels summoned to
his court,) went into the opposite extreme.
He tummoned twelve of the leanest and
tallest men he could find in the borough ;
and when they took their seats in the box,
it appeared comparatively empty—there
was indeed room for more of the same sort
and dimensions.
For the April term of the court, our hu
morous functionary summoned a jury con
sisting of twelve barbers ! Now it so hap
pond that among the latter were the per
ruquiers who dressed the recorders' and
barrister' wigs, and some of the latter, ar
riving late at the bar, hid to appear that
morning in court with their wigs undressed
or half-dressed, so as to out a very ridicu
lous figure, amidst the smiles and half
suppressed laughter of the by-standers.
The high sheriff enjoyed the fun amazingly,
but looked as 'grave as a judge,' while he
tried to keep silence in the court room.
But the crowning joke of this waggish
functionary occurred at the summoning of
his fourth and last jury, fit the summer ses
sion of July. For that term of the court,
the high sheriff, not having the fear of the
recorder, the mayor, and the aldermen be
fore his eyes, actually sommoned a squint
ing jury. Twelve as queer looking bipeds
as ever took thier seats in a jury box—a
jury that was probably more looked at,than
any or the appointed twelve that ever were
sworn, to well and truly try and true de
liverance make between their sovereign
lord and king and the prisoner at the bar'.
But the 'scene was so irresistibly droll
that the learned reeorder could not main
tain his gravity. The mayor and alder
man followed suit. The barristers laughed
while theiewigs became bald, powderless ;
nay, even the poor prisoners in t4e dook,
who were to be , put ,on , their, , trial,,and
some of them nudergo tranaportation,ootdd
not-refrain from joining.the general each.,
ination ! And when the learned) reeorder
commanded. the high sheriff to bring the
court-room to order, and intimated, with a
half-suppressed laugh, that the latter
ought to be ashamed of himself for sum
moning such a jury, the drollery of this
court scene was heightened considerably
by the quick, ready, and sonorous re
sponse of the high sheriff, who, looking at
the same time at the squinting jury' ex
claimed. All good and lawful men, your
honor.'—English paper.
We extract the following from a popu
lar story. It narrates the early experience
of a bashful boy :
Well, my sister Lib gave a party one
night; and I stayed away from home be
cause I was 'too bashful to face the music.
I hung around the house whistling Old
Dan Tucker,' dancing to keep my feet
warm, watching the heads bobbing up and
down behind the window curtains, and
wishing the thundering party would break
up so I could get to my room. I smoked
a bunch of cigars, and as it was getting late
and mighty uncomfortable, I concluded to
climb up the door-post. No sooner said
than done, and I soon found myself snug
in bed. Now,' says I, let her rip !
Dance till your wind is out !' And cud
dled under the quilts, Morpheus grabbed
me. I was.dreaming of soft-shelled crabs
and stewed tripe, and having a good time,
when somebody knocked at my room door
and woke me up. Rap' again. I laid
low. Rap, rap, rap !' Then I heard a
whispering, and I knew there was a whole
raft of girls 'outside. Rap, rap !' Then
Lib sings out Jack, are you in there ?'
Yes,' says I, and then came a roar of
laughter. Let us in,' says she. won't
says L Then came another laugh. By
thunder, I begin to get riled ! Get out
you pettiooated. scarecrows !' I cried ;
can't you get a bean without hauling a
fellow out of bed ! I won't go home with
you—l won't—so you may clear out !'
And sending a boot at the door, I felt bet
ter. But presently—O, mortal buttons !
I heard a still small voice, very much like
sister Lib's, and it said, Jack, you'll
have to get up, for all the girl's things are
in there !' 0 dear, what a pickle ! Think
of me in bed, all covered with shawls,
muffs, bonnets and cloaks, and twenty girls
outside waiting to get in. As it was, I
rolled out among the ribbons in a burry.
Smash went the millinery in every direc
tion. I had to dress in the dark—for there
was a crack in the door, and girls will
peep—and the way I fumbled about was
death on straw hats. The critical moment
at last oame. After runniog my hand all
over my clothes to see that everything was
all right and tight, I opened the door and
found myself right among the women !
0, my leghorn !' cries one. My dear
winter velvet!' cries another—and they
pitched in—they piled me this way and
that—boxed my ears; and one little bright
eyed piece—Sal , her name was—
put her arms right round my neck and
kissed me right on my lips ! Human
nature couldn't stand that, and I gave her
as good as she sent. It was the first time
I ever got a taste, and it was powerful
good. I believe I could have kissed that
gal from Julius Cmsar to the Fourth of
July: Jack,' said she, we are sorry to
disturb you, but won't you 'see me home 1'
' Yes,' says I, I will.' I did do it, and
had another smack at the gate, too. After
that we took a kinder turtle-doving after
each other, both of us sighing like a bar
rel of new cider when we were away from
each other.'
0. ABE
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
JOB PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT,
No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA.
The Jobbing Department Is thoroughly. furnished with
new and elegant type of every description, and is under
the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer.--
The Proprietors are prepared to
PRINT CHECKS,
NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS,
CARDS AND CIRCULARS,
BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS,
PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS,
PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS,
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING,
with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasona
ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by any establish
ment in the city.
.011— Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON k SON,
Intelligencer Office,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa.
SHEAPPER , S CHEAP BOOK STORE
No. 32 NORTH QUEEN STREET
IS THE PLACE TO PURCHASE
SCHOOL BOOKS & SCHOOL STATIONERY
COMPRISING ALL TDB VARIOUS
READING AND SPELLING BOOKS,
ARITHMETICS AND ALGEBRAS,
GRAMMARS AND ETYMOLOGIES,
DICTIONARIES AND HISTORIES,
PHILOSOPHIES, &o,
COPY AND COMPOSITION BOOKS,
LETTER, CAP AND NOTE PAPER,
BLANK—BOOKS, SLATES,
LEAD AND SLATE PE 'MILS,
PENS AND HOLDERS, INK,
INKSTANDS, RULERS,
and the best and most complete assortment of
SCHOOL STATIONERY IN THE CITY.
Air Liberal discounts made to Teachers and Merchants
at JOHN SHEA.FFER'S
Cheap Cash Book Store
, 32 North Queen street, Lance:ear.
oct 14 tf 40
DE. SWEET'S
INFALLIBLE LINIMENT,
THE GREAT EXTERNAL REMEDY.
FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA, LUMBAGO,
STIFF NECK 'AND JOINTS, SPRAINS, BRUISES,
CUTS AND WOUNDS, PILES, HEADACHE,
AND ALL REIEUMATIO AND NER
VOUS DISORDERS.
For all of which it is kspeedy and certain remedy. and
never fails. This Liniment la prepared from the recipe of
Dr. Stephen Sweet, of Connecticut, the famous bone setter,
and has been used in his practice for more than twenty
years with the most astonishing success.
AS AN ALLEVIATOR OF PAIN, it is unrivalled by any
preparation before the public, of which the moat skeptical
may be convinced by a single DIAL
This Liniment will cure, rapidly and radically, Rheu
matic Disorders of every kind, and in thousands of cases
where it has been used it has never been known to fall.
FOR NEURALGIA, it will afford immediate relief in
every case, however distressing, ,
It will relieve the worst came of lIEADACHE in these
minutes and Is warranted to do it.
TOOTHACHE also will it cure instantly.
FOR NERVOUS DEBILITY AND GENERAL LASSI
TUDE arising from imprudence or excess, this Liniment is
a moat happy and unfailing remedy. Acting directly Upon
the nervous tissues, it strengthens and revivifies the sys
tem, and restores it to elasticity and vigor.
FOR PILES.,--As an external remedy, we claim that it%
the best known, and we challenge the world to produce an
equal. Every victim of this distressing complaint should
give it a, - trial;rot it wiaxioxrdleto afford immediate relief
and in a majority of eases will effect a radical core.
QUINSY AND SORE THROAT are sometimes extremely_
malignant and dangerous, but a timely application of thin
Liniment Will never fail to cure: .
SPRAINS are sometimes very obstinate, and enlarge
ment of the Joints is liable to occur if neglected. The worst
case Moy be conquered . by tile Liniment in two. or three
- . .
Gaye.
BRUISES, OUTS,.WOUNDS, SORES, ULCERS, BURNS
and SCALDS, yield readily to the wonderful healing pro
perties of -Dr. Sweet's Infallible Liniment when' wed as
cording to directions: 'ADP; CHILBLAINS, FROSTED
FEET, INSECT BITES and' STINGS.
Every Rom Owner should have this remedy at hand,
for its timely use et the first appearance' of l,amenesi
effectually prevent these - formidable diseases, to which all
horses are 'liable, and which render so many otherwise
valuable horses nearly worthless. '
Over four hundred voluntary testimonials to the-wonder
ful curative properties of this Liniment have been received
within the last two years, and many of them from persons
in the highest ranks of life.
, ,
To avoid itaposition, observe the Signature and Likewise
of Dr. Stephen Sweet on every label, and also "Stephen
Sweet's Linlment"• blown In .tbe glass of each
bottle, without which none are genuine..
atclii-susiai mi.,
- • Sole Proiwirbant, tionaleh;Ot:= l
Tor Sale by all Dealers..:::, : fritrne 1 .!. 3 . - 4. 23
The First Step.
JOHN
CHEAP Cziirkl:,HG ETOSE,
"SIGN OP THE BTRLPED COAT,"
No. 42 NOETR.QUIFf STILIIT, NAST ems, RAM Oa G 1 8!.,
TANOABTEN pn.
The subscriber has now In stirs itearylarge assortment
of TALL AND WINTGR, BI; AD i—LADS CLOTHING fot
.
Men and Boys wear, prinripally of hie owzrmeutseture.
warranted to be well sawed, and •to be of the beet of
Material and Workmanship, and whlati he will sell at the
very lowest prim. •
Among his extensive assortment may ba found:
Black Cloth Bangnpe;
Seal Skin 0115 i Bintly •
Bizet Cloth 'Frock Dads,
. . Cessimere - Sack'Costta;
• Black OusindlyeTantaloons,
Fanny CassinsaraPantaloons,
ValenciaTestrq •
: - -Fenny Velvet Vests,
, . Fanny Silk Vests,
' Black Satin Vesta.
Also, a full asibrtment of llnder-Shirts and Drawers,
Knit Wool Jackets, Irma Shirts, Shirt . Collars, Cravats,
Neck-Ties, Sospenders, - Stocke," Gloves,' Hosiery,
llmbrel
las,Ac. - -
BO.Y 5" zaTHXxa.
Just finished the largest and cheapest assortment of
Boys' Clothing in this city; consisting' Of Boys' OvprCoata,
Frock, Sack and Honker Coats, BlSlll2dabettlti, Pantaloons
and Vesta, of all sizes aad qualities. ' • . ;
just received a very large and well seleotesTstook of
CLOTHS, FA LL STYLIC CASSIMBREB AND- VBSTYNGB,
which will be made op to .order, in-the most Ikaldonable
style at very reasonable prices.'.-:--
Persons ordering garments at this-establishment can
depend snide getting them et the time sPeolfled.
Thankful for the very liberal patronage. bereft:Ore be
stowed upon thiS establishment, the proprietor respectfully
solicits a continuance of the same. • . • • -
JOHN gatitior,
Sign of the Striped Coat, No. 42 North Qbeeda *Met, east
side, near Orange street, Lancaster, Pa.
aep 29
11 !
EigsA'
• '•
' 2/ •*64.'4 tr m. "
ValtsVgLA
t 3.47,60 1:
or'
m ,.
QOd.J-4 t
RVirg 00
61.9.ER...g4 )r a
4 4 1M1 g
A.,..CUa~0-m'grill9,al4 8
• arz1 7,17, 4g- H, ;. 1 . 1 2H !'5„.
.I"tr,"
g A T 7,1.1;.19 4,,
• mtP,L S EV . ,; 4":47,11,t' , 4
Aar:cuu-e-Jt
• NK I.4tt. Como .411
mi
4 '3 l3 ' mmgaigg
"THERE IS NO svajl WORD AS FAIL."
TARRANT'S . COMPOUND EXTRACT
OP CIMEMS AND OOPAIBA. •
This preparation is .plarticularly recommended to the
Medical Profession and the Public, for the prompt and
certain cure of
DISEASES OF THE BLADDER,KIDNEYS,
URINARY ORGANS, ET J. • • •
It may be relied on aa the beet mode for the adminietra
lion of these remedies in the large Class of tilimases of both
eases, to which they are applicable. It nevar.lhterferea
with the digestion, and by. its coridentratiOn . tha dons to
much reduced.
N. B.—Purchasers are advised to ask for Tarrant's Com
pound Extract of Cabebs and Copaiba, and take nothing
else, as imitations and worthless preparations, under aim!•
lar narnea, - iire in the market." Price $l.OO. Bent by ax•
press on receipt of price. . .
. .
Manufactured only by
TARRANT k
No 278 Greenwich Street, con of :iyar . ron 81.,..15ew York,
AND FOR SALE ..Y DRUGGISTSGENBEALLY.
°et 13
D R. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINI.
MENT.
THE GREAT EZTERNA.L.R.EICILI -T.
FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA, LUMBAGO,
STIFF NECK AND JOINTS, SPRAINS; BRIIII3ES,
CUTS AND WOUNDS, .PILES, HEADACHE,
AND ALL RHEUMATIC AND
VOUS DISORDERS.. -
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OF CONNECTICUT,
The Great Natural Bone Setter.
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OF CONN,ROTICUT.
Is known all over tbe United 'States.
DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OP CONNECTICUT;
Is the anther of "Dr. Sawt's Infallible Liniment."
• DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE.LI.NIMENT
Cures Rheumatism and never fails.
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Is a certain remedy for Neuralgia.
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE' LifirRHIENT
Cures Burns and Scalds immediately. • • . ,
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Is the best known Remedy for Sprains and Bruisell.l
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Cures Headache immediately and was never fall.
DR. SWEET'S INFAIJ,LBLEILINIIILENT
Affords immediate relief for Piles, and seldom - habit° cure.
• - DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Cures Toothache in one Minute.
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Cures Cute and Wounds Immediately and leaves no acar.
DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Is the best remedy for Sores in the known world, ,
'DR.-SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Haabeau used by more than a minima *pie; !Mid all
praise It.
DR. SWEErs.INFALLIBLIi ItNillooll
Ls truly a " friend In need," and every, family sheatid have
It at hand... • • • -; •.:10
DR.,BWEET'B INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Is for sale by . all Druggists. Price 26 and 50 cents.
"liIOHANDI3ON k CO.,
Bole Proprietors, Norwich, Ot.
SE-For sale by all Dealers. • [jruie.23 ly 24
F ANCY FURS! FANCY EVIL
JOHN FA /2 ETES,
718 Allan Eiru-ss
(below Bth sontti side,)
PHILADELPHIA.
Importer, Manama - fir
of and Dealer in all kinds
FANCY FURS!
for Ladies' and Children
I wish to return m;
thanks to my friends c
Lancaster and the em
rounding counties, for thel
very liberal patronage et
tended to me during tt
last few years, and wool,
say to them that I now
have in store, of my own
Importation and Mauufattutea very. nxbadnit
e assort
mentor ill the' different kinds' of Fancy
Furs. for Ladles asd thap rbe - worn 'during
the Fall and Winter salmons.
Being the direct Importer of all my 71nre•froxii,Nizrops,
and having them all Manufactured under my owu-super
vtdon—enables.me to offer my eciatomere andlthel Oriblle
a much handsomer set of Furs for the, aaolo,!honey.
Ladles please eve me a call beret* purehmangl", rime
remember the name, number end street: , `-+ • ;
501 IN
No: 718 , AithStreet;Phllidelptite.
egt 36
M lal;42l=7o;Actr,id-',-;
O -5, , ,-er= , -
0 ,,0cA
s c,3
OltlAttgag 44:B:ie,
°4
E .4-
• 571,
ii%gil7la4itelirsiO Yl 'L
r
;tore4,s .:-181ri-tvB'
wetr.. , 4 - 6134 •
Mr.i.i . °.0:62 411 44; 4 4A 14
E.-C
Fq l '', OEI =
• 5 !0 -,
2i
• N 1 =4W..41;t1
L§ ~11„; 4. 1 1,13 i
• ,:u.s-a,a132091.4
T' E I, x . p''.
Prepared by the undersigned froto LtWorigjnal re.
ceipt, has proved of universal utility as a family medicine,
and is not surpassed, if 41114 111311 rexadjin the follow
ing complaints, viz:
••
FOR COSTIVENESS,
DYSPEPSIA. OR INDIGESTION,
WEAKNESS, •
HEADACHE,
PILES.
SUMMER comPtkiNT
FEVER AND AGUE,
FEMALE COMPLAINTS, and
various other diseases arising (rota ichuidity of the blood
and deranged digestive organs. . .
All Who have made a Itlell4 Malt , Willthever be
without a bottle of it at hand. ,
This valziable had - whniGnide or
retail at the Drug Store of Aba.subsqlber s ,9p
of Muth Queen and'Vine streets,in thellitrbflarf ,
Pa. • • _ •/ OHARIAR - GEHRING.
Numerous testimon i a l s of the cured jperfaimierilry this
Elixir am be shoWn from peractolfwbohamasttlifite r
either personally or In the Auxkily, of w hich
, a few artglven
as a sample. • ' • .. !OD
OKRTXFNISTES : ,
The truth of the above statement I clitierfullyverllfy te„
from having given this BfixLr's fair trisl,l4;=.
• V. V. WIESE, e.
. the underslgned,. having f o r a pouted le time
antiers&froiriinW3olooloo94o ohe, and
after rations other remedies tried, Mond no re f, until I
used Mr. Gehrlog'aillliir otliferntrisdk removed
every sYmPtontor the cam / runt- q uy.
• ,11583;
When say greinb;Moirdi - 'IMMIY I irgania/un46feß I
have to do is to give a dose ot kla. B rea El4drialLife,
which speedily removes' the ' - ecadhl - arid 'relliVU the
patient.• • ..LUOUEt TaitiosMlZPlL
i • • Afttliglig "'
A
lave tizieedlngly enffeied. tifebifial "myl°
jant
ooloPleints, and until I . nted TAig.,(l4oo ^ O hi&
can not be too highly recinnininded,Le . _ re.
Moral too to PetfoOt•hojtigh,', , T.' .1
oeP / 5 , 3 'm ,;t 3 3 ,' : , ..:_ . ": : ' ~'""
TS A.A. B 414
IWROLTaatapattob way. , s , 9 Thin i niar
'I Q PIA RELODVPIAL:
'704:1116 antrm
deoll'6o thBl .f.ToiMbR
EINZEM
- 75 0
NO. 4E'