Pagan' NIOUPIVer, I
ikrBLIsuED ILYEZT - WED - IfiSDAlr
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J. M. Coorza,
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ALFRED BASTDERi3OIq
Wm. A. IdowroN,
TERMS—Two Dollars' and Fifty Cents per
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Then and Now.
I have often thought, dear Mary,
Of the good old days of yore,
Days that have gone forever,
To come back nevermore. •
And oft in my dreams I've listened
To catch the silvery voice,
That, falling light on my boyish ear,
Made my boyish heart rejoice.•
I have thought I heard you laughing,
But the old glad ringing tones,
Sank in the gusts of the fitful wind,
Changed to low mournful moans.
I have looked for the bright eyes sparkling.
As they did in your girlish glee,
But I woke with the dull and painful thought
They will never shine more on Inc.
I kedr the arched and ruby llp,
poked
for the pearly teeth,
But the veil of Forever•gone passed o'er
And shadowed all beneath.
I Bee you again, dear Mary,
In all your womanly grace—
Not as the child I longed to see,
With the Innocent, girlish face.
The voice is just as silvery,
The tones are as sweet and clear,
But the world's cold hand has touched the chord
And they fall on a worldly ear.
The bright eyes still are sparkling,
Merry and Might as of old—
But the world reflects their lustre bark,
And they seem to the warm heart cold.
The lips are red and aching,
The pearly teeth are as clear—
But oh! the words they utter
Seem framed for the world's cold ear.
• • • • • • • •
And now, what is It, de, Mary,
We lack in each other's eyes?
Why do you seem cold and worldly,
Why I but a puck of lies?
We both, , ( know, are better
Than now to each other we seem—
We thought to meet as we parted—
Alas ! 'Urns an idle dream.
We have sailed upon life's vast ocean,
Since in childhood we stood on the shore,
We have learned that the pathway behind us,
Is not like the ocean before.
We are changed—but the change is all outward,
We are shaped in the world's formal mould,
But the heart is the heart of our childhood,
Our feelings are warm as of old.
[Louisville Journal.
Xittrarg.
A Good Appetite.
Mrs. Skimpin was a frugal farmer's
wife—a frugal farmer's frugal wife—
and they were reported by their neigh
bors to be so economical that on one oc
casion they were detected in making a
dinner together from a scrap of potato-
Skins and clam-shells. This may have
been an exaggeration, for they did not
always live in that way, as the follow
ing incident sufficiently proves.
One day, while Mrs. Skimpin was
knitting in the porch, a thin and low
sized little young man looked over the
fence at her, and asked her if she had
such a,thing as a slice of bread in the
house.
"Well, sir," said she, " I haven't a
slice of bread, for there's none cut; but
I've got a few crusts, and I suppose you
wouldn't like to eat them."
" Not more than one, ma'am ; I only
want just a nibble."
" Then you may come in, and per
haps you would like a drink of good
cold water with it. Our water is the
best anywhere."
The young man entered the house,
remarking :
" I am twery, very small eater, ma'am,
like all our and never eat much
at a time ; but I am in the habit of tak
ing just, the smallest bite in the world,
you know, between meals—l've had my
breakfast about two hours ago—and so,
as I said, I lon't think I can take more
than a nibble of any, if you should hire
me, and want me, ever so much."
This was a great relief to Mrs. Skim
pin, for there was a loaf and three or
four pounds of boiled ham in the closet;
and she had been fearful that when she
opened it they might tempt his appe
tite.
" A small eater—not hungry—only a
nibble"—reflected she ; " well, if that's
the 'case, he couldn't do much harm, if
I should set the bread and ham on the
table. It would look better, and cost
me nothing."
Accordingly she did so, not forgetting
to place the crusts there also, and bade
him sit down, while she went for some
fresh water.
" Don't, ma'am, don't. I'm sure
your too liberal. My ! Here's enough
here for an army. I couldn't touch it,
I'm sure."
This reassurance was charming to
her.
" How I like," said she, "to see a
man who is a small eater. Now I think
of it, as you aintgoim,rto touch anything
but the crusts, I've got some cold yester
day's broth in the closet—the least
might sour—and I'll set that on, for a
kind of relish."
And that she did.
" You're all heart, ma'am ; all heart.
Out of politeness, I suppose I ought to
cut a wafer from that ham, as you've
'been at the trouble of setting it on the
table."
And he cut about an ounce from it
and began to eat, very slowly.
" Here's a spoon for the broth," said
she, anxiously, noticing the act. "And
if you prefer the crusts, as you only
want to nibble—"
" Just so, ma'am."
" You can help yourself to broth—l
declare! my husband's calling me, out
in the field. I shall have to go, but I'll
be back directly."
Mrs. Skimpin was detained longer
than she anticipated ; and when she re
turned, she found to her amazement
that the little man, who was such a
small eater, had made sad havoc with
the ham. Two pounds at least, he had
devoured, together with half the loaf,
and was now resting himself, drumming
with the knife and fork in a cheerful
manner.
She felt like scolding, but checked
herself. It would do no good. The
deed was done, and he must certainly
be filled by this time, though he did
not leave the table. "He was waiting
for the bite to settle," he said.
"And, then I suppose he'll go,"
thought she; and under no apprehen
sion of a further attack on the bread
and ham, she left the room angrily, and
resumed her knitting on the porch, mo
mentarily expecting him to come out.
"The greedy pig!" sighed she. "He's
stuffed his self full as a sassidge, and
no wonder he feels lazy now. I shouldn't
be much surprised if he never got
up. But what keeps him waiting so
long? Perhaps he's asleep."
Mrs. Skimpin went into the house
again, and was this time more astonish
ed than before. The small eater had
actually devoured another pound of the
ham, and was busy with the remainder
of the bread.
"The land's sake!" cried she, "what
a hungry man you must be !"
" Mistake, ma'am, I'm not hungry."
" Well, I shouldn't think you would
be, after all that. But isn't there some
thing the matter with you ?"
" Not that' I know of. Do I look as
if there was ?"
" Appearances is deceitful. To look
at you when you came in, a body would
say you couldn't hold more than half a
pound to-save your soul. •
.But: now
tidnk you must be liell6Welbartid64ll. l .
" in consumption, I gness ; for
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VOLUME 66.
my , ,appetite is failing me. I can't eat
what I used. to."
"You haven't touched the broth.
Try some, do. Don't you never drink
anything at your meals?"
" No, ma'am. I never drink till I
am half through eating."
"Heavenly Father! Haven't you
got half through yet ?"
" Almost."
"Then, start, you rascal! and finish
some place else," shrieked the enraged
woman. "My husband will be in for
his dinner in a minute, mad and hun
gry, and he'll kill me and you too! for
there's nothing eatable in the house
that is ready for him."
" No?" said the eater, rising to go.
" You must set a mighty poor table,
then."
" Poor table, you gormandizer, you?"
"And I'm glad I don't board with
you, if you treat strangers so begrudg
ing to a slight lunch."
And he left slowly for the gate.
Mrs. Skimpin took one more glance
at the houe he left behind him, and the
aggravating sight wa:i to much for her.
She seized it savagely, and rushing out,
hurled it after the departing stranger.
" Take that along with you to gnaw,
you dog!"
" No thank you, ma'am," he replied,
picking it up. " I may come this way
again some day; so, have something
better next time, for we small eaters are
always dainty."
The Childhood Grief of Paganini
Nicolo dearly loved the faithful little
Uianetta; the first tones of his violin
drew her to his side, and it was not
until the last one had died away, that
she awoke from the sweet lethargy, the
wondrous intoxicating dreams into
which they had lulled her.
Often, when Nicolo sat imagining the
fulfillment of his ambitious hopes he
would touch the strings of his violin ;
then little Silver Cross (a pet spider)
would softly approach, and the boy
would feel her touch like a hasty kiss.
He would close his eyes and forget his
solitude—forget that no one loved him.
His father was a stern master; his
gentle mother was dead; the boys of
his own age avoided him; only the lit
tle Oianetta played with him and kissed
him ; and Nicolo's heart was divided
between the beloved girl and his strange
window-friend.
Uianetta, however, could not endure
spiders; she would say, timorously:
" They are witches!"
The spider seemed to feel Gianetta's
dislike, and never came in when the
child was there ; but if Nicolo drew
near to the window with his violin, and
gave a stolen look without, he would
always perceive the mutelistener hang
ing motionless upon a vineleaf.
Cilianetia would sit in a corner of his
room breathlessly listening to his won
drous playing ; but when his arm sank
exhausted, and the tones died away,
then she would entreat Nicolo to talk
to her.
Not only did lie relate to the listen
ing girl wild fairy-tales, which made
her shudder, but all the dreams of his
own burning heart, all the plans of his
high aspiring soul, were confided to the
silent, faithful bosom of the charming
girl ; and she would press his feverish
ly-hot hand, and gaze at him with eyes
filled with sympathy.
When he told her of the famous Ger
man master, Mozart—how he had
written grand concertos when only six
years old, and how he shone as a star in
the heaven of music—lds cheeks would
burn, he would tremble with excite
ment, and scalding tears of indignation
would stream from his eyes.
"See, Gianetta," lie would say, with a
bitter smile, "what a wretched bungler
I am beside him!"
And the girl had not the power to
console him.
One day, Nicolo was obliged to play
the most monotonous exercises under
his father's supervision, whilst suffer
ing the bitterest torments. His hands
were weak, his body glowed—all the
strength, all the life of his body seemed
to have passed into his eyes; they
shone wonderfully.
All at once he heard the voice of Gi
anetta's mother—she called him by
name, anxiously and hastily. Nicolo
hastened to her. Gianetta had been sud
denly taken ill; a burning fever had
seized her. He entered. She looked
long and earnestly at her dearest play
mate, her friend ; he understood her
glance, and brought his violin. Grief
stormed and raged within his heart.
" Gianetta, a sleeping-song for you!"
he exclaimed wildly.
She smiled. Then the charmed vio
lin sang the most enrapturing, the
strangest and sweetest of all sleeping
songs. As he ended, Gianetta raised
herself from her couch, and called Ni
colo; he threw himself into her arms.
" Thanks, my dearest," she whisper
ed softly; "Nicolo, I shall slumber
sweetly ! You, however, will not rest ;
you will beam upon earth, a clear star,
surpassing everything else in brightness
—travel far, far away from here ! Think
of me and my words!"
The beautiful child inclined her head
and died.
Nicolo remained by the corpse the
night through ; the following day, he
ran about half frenzied. When he re
turned to hishome, his dark, quiet room
filled him with terror; from his window
he could look directly into Gianetta's
little chamber.
The child lay upon the bier, adorned
with flowers—almost buried in them—
surrounded by lighted torches, and
looking as lovely as an angel. A monk
knelt by the side of the coffin , and prayed
for the pure young soul that had for
saken his beautiful tenement so soon.
"Farewell, thou lovely one," softly
said the mourning boy, as the hot tears
rolledover his pale cheeks; "I am going
far away, as far—ah, as far as I can!
For what is there to detain me—me, the
lonely, unloved one?"
And he fell upon his k nees and sobbed
conclusively.
At that moment he felt a gentle sin
gular touch upon his hand. He started;
little Silver Cross crept toward him.
"It is you, mute, alas, now solitary
companion of nay life !" cried Nicolo.
A ray of joy glided over his counte
nance, as he thoughtfully contemplated
the faithful creature. At last he started
up and exclaimed, pressing his violin
passionately to his breast:
"One more parting greeting to Gian
etta, then out into the world with you,
mighty heavenly beloved of my heart !"
Then the cords sang more wondrous
ly, more mysteriously than ever; tones
thatwereexquisitely beautiful, although
tremulous With sorrow, floated over to
the slumbering Gianetta; the dead one
seemed to smile ; the lovely flowers
quivered; the flame of the torches
treiribled - ; the ikt4ing monk let his
'folded ' whilst *magical
otrange dreamieFaimied `Over him;
When the morning-sun looked into
the tiny room with his fiery eyes he
found a half-fainting boy lying on the
ground, with his violin in his arms ; on
the strings of the violin hung, firmly
clinging, little Silver Cross, who was
dead.
I wonder if the prediction of the love
ly Gianetta was fulfilled? The boy's
name was Nicola Paganini. Have you
ever heard of him ?
A Plea for the Supernatural.
You do not believe in the supernatural?
All evidence in support of communica
tions between the seen and the unseen
world to your mind is horn but of the
cunning of the knave and the credulity
of the fool? The sweet humanities of
religion, by which, in all ages, men
have sought to link themselves and
their destinies to something beyond the
material and the apparent, are to you
butvain delusions, weaknesses or worse?
To you there is nothing real but what
the corporeal eye can mirror ; nothing
substantial but what can be felt and
pressed, weighed, and measured? In
your estimation the blue infinitude is
but the sky for Man ; the sun, the moon
and stars were hung in the heavens to
light his pathway alone ; that his crops
may grow the bounteous rain falls; to
fill the sails of his commerce the trade
winds blow? All that is exists for his
use alone—and the object of all the ma
chinery of the universe is that he may
live and struggle and scheme—get rich
or fail. And then !—with " Dust to dust
and ashes to ashes," it is ended.
Ido not so believe. I believe in far
more than I can actually see or for a
certainty know. What is now revealed
to us is, to my thinking, but a small
part of the great whole. What you cull
supernatural is to me the natural. To
me, your belief is miserable; to you,
mine is foolish and insane. Very well.
A day will perhaps come when your
sight will have a wider range ; and it
may come before your eyes have closed
in what you call death—as it did to me.
For there was a time when I thought as
you do now ; but, thank Heaven! that
time has passed. Let me tell you :
It was midnight in the tropics. I stood
at the helm of a little bark; her name
and her destination are alike immate
rial. I struck one bell of the middle
watch, and, with scarce a hand resting
on the wheel—so gentle and steady was
the wind, and so easily did the vessel
steer—l drank in the beauty of the night.
seemed theonly living being in those
silent waters; my watch-mates lay
sleeping in comfortable corners about
the decks, for vigilance was relaxed un
der the (Mier
. far nicnte of the tropic
seas. The full, and in the
mellowness of its light the sea seemed
broader and the eye capable of looking
further into the mysteries of the heavens
than by the garish glare of day. The
soft trade-wind nestled in the white sails
above me, that neither flapped nor quiv
ered, but, as the sailors say, " asleep,"
drew gently in their duty. save the
low rippling plash of the water at our
bow, no sound broke the silence which
brooded over all.
To my mind the scene which I have
faintly attempted to portray is grander,
more sublime than aught else in Nature.
Like the little voice that came to the
Prophet on Horeb, it reveals God to the
soul. It does not impress with the
might of Omnipotence as do the con
vulsions of earth and air, but it reveals
to us the immensity of existence, the
eternity of being.
I stood at the wheel which needed no
control, and looked over the level plains
of water, further, till the stars came
down to meet it; above, into the sky,
where the stars swung softly in the
moonlight, like silver bells ; behind us,
at the stream of light which marked
our course through the dark water, ri
valling the "wake " of the moon, which
left a silver road over the sea. My heart
opened under the influence, and upon
my soul there fell a calm—not a quiet
of inertness, but a feeling of silence and
awe, in which the soul recogniAed itself
and its Maker.
Two bells came, but I did not strike
them. I was busy with my thoughts.
Over my head the Southern Cross arch
ed its arms. My eye met its stars, and
memory turned to the Northern sky—
to the North Star and its " pointers ;"
back, back my recollections ran, through
wild and wicked and shameful scenes,
to my childish days—to the cottage on
the Northern hill, with a window look
ing out upon the glory of the brilliant
Northern night, and I almost fancied I
heard the sweet voice of my mother as
she called the stars by their names, and
led my thoughts beyond their orbits to
the throne of Him who made them,
looking upon me the while with eyes
that spoke the boundless love of a
mother's heart.
Back to those sweet days my mind
ran, and then returned to my present;
my heart swelled with bitterness, and I
groaned aloud. Black with sin and
crime, owing the restraint of no law
human or divine; how could I think of
my mother ; how could I call upon the
God I had defied !
A meteor flashed across the heavens ;
bright and swift it ran its course, and
disappeared forever. To me it was an
emblem of myself ; having no part in
the sweetglory around, it was quenched
in darkness; my heart accepted the
omen, and I dropped my hands from
the wheel in black despair.
A moment, and every nerve thrilled,
my heart stopped its beating, and a
strange feeling filled me. I stood like
one changed to stone, but with every
faculty alive. Softly, oh, how softly !
clearly, oh, how clearly ! a voice called
me by my childish name. All the peace
of heaven was in that tone; all the
sweetness of infinite love spoke to my
soul in its music, and before me was my
mother as she was years ago. I saw
her—l knew her! I turned and she was
gone!
I was alone again—save the ripple of
the water there was no sound. But I
was not alone in spirit! My mother
had come from her rest to her child,
and in that moment my eyes were open
ed; I knew that Heaven was, that its
gates were not shut to me, and that the
eternal love sufficed to embraced me—a
_sinner. I wept tears of relief, of sweet
ness untold ; a hope I never knew be
fore sprang up in my heart, and a joy
and comfort and resolve; and I blessed
God. And when I struck four bells and
left the wheel, it was as a different man;
You may say that I dreamed ; that
,T'
was deluded by a powerful and over
wrought imagination, you may prove
to a physical demonstration thatsuch a
thing could not be . ; but you cannot ton
vinte me. That I could not hear and
see this, on tbe trackless Indian ocean,'
miles and miles from land, prove noth
ing. I did. Whether with the sense
of the body I care' ot ; butmy Boni Bay!
and heard, and it knows.
LANCASM, PA., WEDNESDAY'MORNI.I%, JUNE 7, 1865.
A Woman's Stcret
A French actreSs, whoSa youth and
beauty appeared ineihanitible—on the
boards—never would tellher age. Of
course, the more she wouldn't tellit,the
more curious people were to know it. A
woman can't keep a secret! She kept
that. By good luck—as the multitude
thought—she was summoned' as a wit
ness on atrial. The gossips rubbed their
hands and chuckled. "Aha, we shall
know it now. She must tell,or goto pris
on for contempt of court. She won't goto
prison ; she will, therefore, tell." The
court was crowded with open-eared lis
teners. In French courts of justice, the
witness does not stand in a boa to give
evidence, but sit; l / 4 on a stool, in the mid
dle of the floor thet court, in front of
the president's des ,and with no barrier
or separation between it and himself.
The lady was ushered in, raised
her right hand to heaven, took the
oath to speak the truth, and then
seated herself on the witness-stool.
" Your name ?" asked the presi
dent. " Angelique Toujoursfleurie."
"Your profession ?" "Artiste dramati
que." "Your age ?" You might have
heard a a pin drop, or the hair grow on
the bystanders' heads. Every eye was
benton the lady. She was driven into a
corner at last! Foolish Parisian public
to think so! Angelique simply
rose from her seat, walked straight
up to the president's desk, and
whispered the secret in his ear.
He nodded, made the entry in
his private notes, and, smiling, con-
Untied the rest of his interrogatory as
soon as she had resumed her place on
the sellette. The public retired with
feelings of mingled disgust and admira-
The trial had lost all further in-
terest; and the president was known to
be a man of honot and gallantry, who
would never let a pretty woman's cat
escape from his presidential bag.
Wonders of Geology
More than nine thousand different
kinds of animals have been changed
into stone. The races or generaof more
than half of these are now extinct, not
being at present known in a living
state. From the remains of some of
these ancient animals, they must have
been larger than any living animals now
known upon the face of the earth. The
Megatherium, Great Beasts) says Buck
land, from a skeleton dearly perfect, in
the Museum at Madrid, was perfectly
colossal. With a head and neck like
those of a sloth, its legs and feet exhibit
those of the armadillo and the ant-eater.
Its fore feet were a yard in length and
more than twelve inches wide, termi
nated by gigantic claws. Its thigh bone
was nearly three times as thick as that
of the elephant, and its tail nearest the
body, was six feet in circumference.
Its tusks were admirably fitted for cut
ting vegetable substances, and its gen
eral structure and strength were intend
ed to fit it for digging in the ground for
roots, on which it principally fed.
The Hair
The quality and color of the hair was
a subject of speculative theory for the
ancients. Lank hair was considered
indicative of pusillanimity and cow
ardice ; yet the head of Napoleon was
thought an indication of coarseness and
clumsiness. The hair most in esteem
was that terminating in ringlets. Dares
the historian, states that Achilles and
and Ajax and Telamon had curl
ing locks ; such was the hair
of Timon, the Athenian. As
to the Emperor Augustus, nature had
favored him with such redundantlocks,
that no hair dresser in Rome could pro
duce the like. Auburn, or light brown
hair, was thought the most distinguish
ed, as portending intelligence, industry,
a peaceful disposition, as well as great
susceptibility to the tender passion.—
Castoraud Pollux had brown hair, so also
had Menelaus. Black hair does not ap
pear to have been, esteemed by the Ro
mans; but red was an object of aversion.
Ages before the time of Judas, red hair
was thought a mark of reprobation,
both in the case of. Typhon, who depriv
ed his brother of the sceptre of Egypt,
and Nebuchadnezzar, who acquired it
in expiation of his atrocities. Even the
donkey tribe suffered from this ill
omened visitation, according to the pro
verb of " Wicked as a red ass." Asses
of that color were held in such detesta
tion among the Copths, that every year
they were in the habit of sacrificing one
by hurling it from a high wall.
A BoY'S LAWSUIT.—Under a great
tree, close to the village, two boys found
a walnut.
"It belongs to me," said Ignatius
or I was the first to see it."
"No, it belongs to me." cried Bernard,
"for I was the first to pick it up," and
so they began to quarrel in earnest.
"I will settle the dispute," said an
older boy, who had just come up. He
placed himself between the two boys,
broke the nut in two, and said:
"The one piece of shell belongs to him
who first saw the nut, the other piece of
the shell belongs to him who first picked
it up; but the kernel I keep forjudging
the case. And this," he said, as he sat
down and laughed, "is the common
end of most lawsuits."
Row Nature Covers Up Battle-Fields.
" Did I ever tell you," says a corres
pondent of an Eastern paper, among
the affecting little things one is always
seeing in these battle-fields, how on the
ground upon which the battle of Bull
Run was fought, I saw pretty, pure,
delicate flowers growing out of the
empty ammunition boxes; and a wild
rose thrusting up its g - radeful head
through the top of a broken drum,which
doubtless sounded its last charge in that
battle; and a cunning scarlet verbena
peeping out of a fragment of a bursted
shell, in which strange pot it was
planted ? Was not that peace growing
out of war 2 Even soighall the beauti
ful and graceful ever grow out of the
horrid and terrible things that transpire
in this changing but ever advancing
world. Nature covers even the battle
grounds with verdure and bloom. Peace
and plenty spring up in the track of the
devouring campaign ; and all things in
nature and society shall work, out the
progress of mankind." , ,
The "Recoil" of the Heart.
It would appear, from the carefully
conducted investigations of M. Heffel
seim, that the heart recoils after every
contraction, somewhat in the same
manner as a cannon which has just
been fired. The writer states that the
'moment the ventricles contract and
pour their volurne of blood' into the
aorta and pulmonary 'artery, the double
liquid'let. which is thus prodUced•ne- -
,cessarily determines a movement of the
heart in the opposite direction; that is.
to say, an actual recoil movernent;at .
every pulsation. The reason 'Why,
ring. its . contraotion,.• '''aasitinies'
proper position,'is that :the ebinticitrof.
the surrounding structures neutniante&
the effect of the recoil.
Stek-Beadacbe
Sick headache is sickness at stomach,
a tendency to vomit, c,Ornbined with
pain in some parts of the bead, gener
ally at the left side. It is caused by
therebeing too much bile in the system,
from the fact that this bile is manufac
tured too rapidly, or is not worked out
of the system fast enough by steady, ac
tive exercise. Hence sedentary per
sons, those who do not walk about a
great deal, but are seated in the house
near all the time, are almost exclusive
ly the victims of this distressing mala
dy. It usually begins soon after waking
up in the morning, and lasts a day or
two more. There are many causes; the
most frequent is, the derangement of
the stomach by late and hearty suppers;
by eating too soon after a regular meal
—five hours should at least intervene—
eating much of any 'favorite dish;
eating without an appetite ; forc
ing food ; eating after oue is
conscious of having enough ; eating
something which the stomach cannot
digest, or sour stomach. Any of these
things may induce headache of the
most distressing character iu an hour ;
it is caused by indulgence in spirituous
liquors. When a person has sick head
ache, there is no appetite ; the very sight
of food is hateful ; the tongue is furred,
the feet and hands are cold, and . there is
a feeling of universal discomfort, with
an utter indisposition to do any thing
whatever. A glass of warm water, into
which has been rapidly stirred a heaping
teaspoonful each of salt and kitchen
mustard, by causing instantaneous vom
iting, empties the stomach of the bile or
undigested sour food and a grateful re
lief is often experienced on the spot ;
and rest, with a few hours of sound, re
freshing sleep, completes the cure,
especially if the principal part of the
nest day or two is spent in mental
diversion and out-door activities, not
eating an atom of food, but drinking
freely of cold water and hot teas until
you feel as if a piece of cold bread and
butter would really taste good. Nine
times in ten the cause of sick headache
is the fact, that the stomach is not able
to digest the food last introduced into
it, either from its having been unsuita
ble or excessive in quantity. When the
stomach is weak, a spoonful of the
mildest, blandest food would cause an
attack of sick headache, when ten times
the amount might have been taken in
health, not only with impunity, but
with postive advantage.
A diet of cold bread and butter, and
ripe fruits and berries, with moderate
continuous exercise in the open air, suf
ficient to keep up a very gentle perspi
ration, would, of themselves, cure al
most every case within thirty-six hours.
Two teaspoonfuls of pulverized char
coal, stirred in half a glassof water, and
drank, generally gives relief.
The World Can Go on Without 18
A branch broken from the tree by the
empest, rode on the rapid current of
he swollen stream.
See how I lead the waters," lie cried
to the banks. " See how I command
and carry the stream with me," heeded
again.
A jutting rocky ridge, over which the
torrent dashed, caught the branch, and
kept it shattered and imprisoned while
the waters flowed on and on.
" Alas !" cried the branch, "how can
you hold me thus ? Who will govern
the stream ? how will it prosper with-
out my guidance ?"
"Ask the banks," said the rocky ledge;
And the banks answered—
" Many, like you, have been carried
by the stream, fancying that they car
ried it. And as to the loss you will be
to the waters, don't be uneasy. You
are already forgotten, as those are who
came before you, and as those will soon
be who may follow.'"
Good Advice
If the body is tired, rest ; if the brain
is tired, sleep. If the bowels are loose,
lie down in a warm bed and remain
there, and eat nothing until you are
well. If an action of the bowels does not
occur at the usual hour, eat not an atom
till they do act, at least for thirty-six
hours ; meanwhile drink largely of cold
water or hot teas, exercise in the open
air to the extent of a gentle perspiration,
and keep this up till things are righted;
this one suggestion, if practiced, would
save myriads of lives every year both in
the thy and the country. The best
medicines in the world are warmth, ab
stinence and repose.
The Machinery of the Human Body.
Very few mechanics are aware how
much machinery there is in constant
action in their own bodies. Not only
are there hinges and joints in bones,
but there are valves in the veins, a
force-pump in the heart, and curiosi
ties in other parts of the body equally
striking. One of the muscles forms an
actual pulley. The bones which sup
ports the body are made precisely in
that form which has been ascertained,
by calculations and experiments, to be
the strongest for pillars and supporting
columns—that of hollow cylinders.
—Mr. Toot coming home late one
night from meeting, was met at the
door by his wife.
"Pretty time of night, Mr. Toot, for
you to come home ; pretty time—three
o'clock in the morning ; you the father
of a family !"
" 'Tisn't three—it's only one, I heard
it strike ; committee always sits till one
o' clock."
" Mr. Toot, you're drunk. It's three
in the morning."
" I say, Mrs. Toot, it's one. I heard
it strike one, as I came around the cor
ner, two or three times."
The beauty of a religious life is one
of its greatest recommendations. What
does it profess? Peace to all mankind.
It teaches us those arts which will con
tribute to our present comfort as well as
our future happiness. Its . great orna
ment is charity—it inculcates nothing
but love and sympathy of affection—it
breathe nothing but the purest spirit
of delight ; In short, it is a system per
fectly calculated to benefit the heart,
improve the mind, and enlighten the
understanding.
"Let Her Go."
" I was," said a reverend gentleman,
" attending divine service in Norfolk,
several years ago, during a season of
excitement. While the officiating cler
gyman was in the midst of a moat in
teresting discussion, an old lady among
.the congregation arose and clapped her
hands and s eclaimed : iSteiciful
,Father, if I htid one more feather ip
,my wing of faith, I would fly to glory.'
The worthy gentleman, thus inter
irupted, immediately ' Good
Loid' stieic: it, In and let her go, she's
but a trouhle here,! . ,That quieted the
oldlady."
If You Mean No, Say No !
When a man MIA made up his mind
to do or not to do a thing, he shoiild
have the pluck to say so, plainly and
decisively. It is a mistaken kindness—
to sheet a request which you have deter
mined not to grant, with " I'll think
the matter over," or " I cannot give you
a positive answer now ; call in a few
days and I'll let you know." It may
be said, perhaps, that the object of these
ambiguous expressions is to " let the
applicant down easy ;" but their
tendency is to give him useless trouble
and anxiety, and possibly prevent his
seeking what he requires in a more pro
pitious quarter until after the golden
opportunity is passed. Moreover, it is
questionable whether the motive for
such equivocation are as some people
suppose. Generally speaking, the in
dividual thus avoids a direct refusal,
does so to avert himself pain. Men with
out decision of character have an inde
scribable aversion to say "No." They
can think "No"—sometimes when it
would be more creditable to their
courtesy and benevolence to say,
" Yes "—but they dislike to utter
the hold word that represents
their thoughts. They prefer to mislead
and deceive. It is true these bland and
considerate people are often spoken of
as "very gentlemanly." But is itgentle
manly to keep a man in suspense for
days, and perhaps weeks, merely be
cause you do not choose to put him out
of it ky straight-forward declaration?
He only is a gentleman who treats his
fellow-men in a manly, straight-forward
why. Never seem by ambiguous words
to sanction hopes you do not intend to
gratify. If you mean "No," out with
What Makes a Lady
When Beau Brummel was asked
what made the gentleman, his quick re
ply was, "Starch, starch, my lord!"
This may be true; but it takes a great
deal more to make a lady ; and though
it may seem singular, I am ready to
maintain that no conceivable quantity
of muslin, silk or satin, edging, frilling,
hopping, flouncing, or furbelowing, can
per sc, or per dressmaker, constitute a
real lady.
Was not Mrs. Abbot Lawrence just as
much a lady, when attired in twelve
cent calico in Boston, as when arrayed
in full court at St. James, London? "As
Mrs. Washington was said to be so.
grand a lady," says a celebrated English
visitor, (Mrs. Troupe,) "we thought we
must put on our best bibs and bands, so
we dressed ourselves in our mostelegant
ruffles and silks, and were in
troduced to her ladyship, and
don't you think we found her knitting,
and with her check apron on ! She re
ceived us very graciously, and easily,
but after the compliments were over
she resumed her knitting. There we
revere, without a stitch of work, and sit
ting instate but General Washington's
lady, with her own hands, was knitting
stockings for her husband." Does not
that sweet republican command your
admiration
PERFEC•TBRICK — ITS ORlGlN.—"Per
haps," hints a friend to us, "you are not
aware that epithet of a perfect 'brick,'
as applied to a "first rate" fellow—as
vulgar as you imagine it to be—is of
classic origin ; such is the case, however,
and though we have not been able to
find the following story concerning it in
our edition of Plutarch, we attribute it
entirely to an oversight on the part of
the editor, as a friend assures us that it
occurs in the original. A deputation
from a neighboring state waiting upon
Agesilaus, king of Sparta, expressed
their astonishment that the city had no
walls. "No walls," said the king, "that
is your opinion now, but come and
breakfast with me to morrow and I'll
show you the ' walls of Sparta.'" The
next day, at the appointed time, the
`lleputation called on Agesilaus, who,
taking them out, showed them the
Spartan militia drawn up in formidable
lines. "There," said he, "are the walls
of Sparta; each man is a bri , k." Hence
arose the saying now so current, espe
cially in the purely classic quarters of
our town.
Dr. Payson says : "If you put a
bright shilling into a child's hand, he
will be pleased with it ; but tell him of
an estate in reserve for him, and he pays
little attention to you. So men and
women are often more delighted with
present comforts than with the prospect
of future glory."
—lt is a quaint remark that eels have
been skinned ever since Noah came out
of the ark ; and printers have been
cheated out of their just dues ever
since the Orientals printed with blocks
of wood ; yet neither do eels get used to
being skinned, nor the printers to being
fleeced. This argues great obstinacy on
the part of eels and printers.
What of It?
It is stated, with a great flourish of
penny whistles, that the wife of Gen.
It. E. Lee has written to the authorities
at Washington, claiming Arlington
Heights as her property. Itis even said
that she will visit Washington in a few
days, and demand of President Johnson
the restoration of her homestead. This
is called a matchless and incomparable
piece of impudence by some of our most
enlightened expositors of retributive
justice according to the black code. But
was it not expressly stipulated, when
Gen. Lee surrendered, that the officers
and men of his army were to return to
their homes, and should remain there
unmolested? Why may not Gen. Lee
return to his home and there await the
constitutional and final adjudication of
any questions that may arise touching
his relations with the Government?—
And if Mrs. Lee owns the property on
Arlington Heights, why may she not
respectfully urge her claims? If she
has already done so, what of it?—Cleve
land (Ohio) Plainclealer.
A Triangular Fight
• While Gen. Sherman is much abused
by one set of men, there is still a third
party who are unsparing of his as, sail
ants. The Cincinnati Gazelle, a super-,
loyal paper, comes forward to the rescue
of the favorite officer, at the same time
pouring a full broadside into General
Haneck. The editor says :
" However much people may object
to some of the terms of Gen. Shermares
arrangement with Johnston ' we think
lI
none will deny that Gen. alleck's de
spatches and ordersconcerningthearm
istic were uncalled for, discourteousand
coarse. No one:believes that Gen. Hal
leek has any feelings that could be dis
turbed by the features of the arrange
ment that the people objected to. He
had not this excuse for his heat. But
he sprang with alacwity to his official
duty of, executioner of generals, in order
to prevent pride by reminding them
that they are mortal.
" If there le any prominent general
whO has not come the treatment
of tlidir offigial reviler of generals, we can
not now think of his ileum. we hope we
hwire tone bad enough to 'be approved
by lihn."
Et , LJ . this
,A.944oing to n yang, the idea of
the Washington functionary is to Seep
down military pride.
'NUMBER 22.
portibutono.
Mr. Llncol'n'i Story to the Rebel Com-
miss - loners.
Mr: 1% B. Carpenter, in some recent
reminiscences of President Lincoln, re
lates the following'i
"Anaonghis stories frahest in mind,
one which he related tome shortly after
its occurence, belongs to the history of
the famous interview on board the River
Queen at Hampton Roads, between
himself and Secretary Seivard and the
rebel Peace Commissioners. Being in
Washington a few days subsequent to
the interview with the Commissioners
(my previous sojourn there having ter
minated about the first of last August),
I asked Mr. Lincoln one day, 'if it were
true that he told Stephens, Hunter and
Campbell a story?' 'Why, yes,' he re
plied, manifesting some surprise, 'but
has it leaked out? I was in hopes noth
ing would be said about it, lest some
over-sensitive people should imagine
there was a degree of levity in the inter
course between us.'
He then went on to relate the circum
stances which called it olit. You see,'
said he, we had reached and were dis
cussing the slavery question. Mr.
Stephens said, substantially, that the
slaves, always accustomed to an over
seer, and to work upon compulsion,
suddenly freed, as they would be if the
South should consent to peace on the
basis of the Emancipation Proclama
tion, would precipitate not only them
selves but the entire Southern society
into irremediable ruin. No work would
be done, nothing would be cultivated,
and both blacks and whites would
starve!' Said the President, ' I waited
for Seward to answer that argument,
but as he was silent, , I at length said:
Mr. Stephens, y'ou ought to know a great
deal better than I, for you have always
lived under the slave system. I can
only say in reply to your statement of
le case that it reminds me of a man out
in Illinois by the name of Case, who
undertook a few years ago, to raise a
very large herd of hogs. It was a trouble
to feed them, and how to get around this
was a puzzle to him. At length he hit
on the plan of planting an immense
field of potatoes, and, when they were
sufficiently grown, he turned the whole
heard into the field, and let them have
full swing, thus saving not only the
labor of feeding the hogs, but also that
of digging the potatoes.
Charmed with his sagacity, he stood
one day leaning against the fence count
ing his bogs, when a neighbor came
along. Well, well,' said he, `Mr. Case,
this is all very fine. Your hogs are
doing very well just now, but you know
out here in Illinois the frost comes
early, and the ground freezes for a foot
deep. Then what are they going to do?'
This was a view of the matter Mr. Case
had not taken into account. Butchering
time for hogs was way on in December
or January. He scratched his head,
and at length stammered, ' Well, it may
come pretty hard ou their snouts, but I
don't see but that it will be root, hog
or die !' He did not tell me that either
of the Commissioners' made any reply
to this way of putting things.' "
• Who Ranks ?
The New York Herald pubishes the
following anecdote. It states it as a
matter of history:
"When General Grant was about to
leave Washington to enter upon that
sublime campaign which began with
the batttle of the Wilderness and ended
with the downfall of the rebellion, he
called upon Secretary Stanton to say
good bye. The Secretary was anxiously
awaiting him.
During the two and a half years that
President Lincoln and Secretary Stan
ton had managed the Eastern armies it
was the first point in their plans to keep
Washington heavily garrisoned with
troops. Large bodies of men were sta
tioned in the fortifications around the
city, and other large bodies were kept
in supporting distance. Now that Grant
had come into power Stanton wanted to
see that the defence of Washington was
not overlooked. Accordingly, after a
few preliminaries, the Secretary re
marked:
" Well, General, I suppose you left
us enough men to strongly garrison the
forts?"
" No," said Grant, coolly: " I can't
do that."
" Why not ?" cried Stanton, jumping
nervously about. " Why not? Why
not ?"
" Because I have already sent the
men to the front," replied Grant.
"That won't do," cried Stanton more
nervous than before. " It's contrary to
my plans. I'll order the men back."
"I shall need the men there," an
swered Grant, "and you can't order
them back."
" Why not?" inquired Stanton again.
" Why not? Why not?"
" I believe that I rank the Secretary
in the matter," was the quiet reply.
"Very well," said Stanton, a little
warmly, " we'll see the President about
that. I'll have to take you to the Pre
sident."
"That's right;" politely observed
Grant; "the President ranks us both."
Arrived at the White House, the Gen
eral and the Secretary asked to see the
Pesident upon important business, and
in a few moments the good-natured face
of Mr. Lincoln appeared.
" Well, gentlemen," said the Presi
dent, with a genial smile, "what do you
want with me?"
" General," said Stanton, stiffly,
" state your case."
" I have no case to state," replied
Grant; " I'm satisfied as it is;" thus
outflanking the Secretary, and display
ing the same strategy in diplomacy as
in war.
" Well, well," said the President,
laughing, " state your case Secretary."
Secretary Stanton obeyed ; General
Grant said nothing ; the President
listened very attentively. When Stan
ton had concluded, the President cross
ed his legs, rested his elbow on his knee,
twinkled his eyes quaintly and said :
"Now, Secretary, you know we have
been trying to manage this army for
two years and a half, and you know we
havn't done much with it. We sent
over the mountains and brought Mister
Grant—as Mrs. Grant calls him—to
manage it for us, and now I guess we
had better let Mister Grant have his
own way."
From this decision there was no ap
peal. Nobody ranked the President.—
• So General Grant went off with the
army, and Secretary Stanton went back
to his office."
A Good Story of General Hancock.
A private letter received in this city
relates the following good story of how
Gen. Hancock took down a parcel of I
swaggering officers. It seems that a
number of officers and soldiers crowded
past the conductor of one of the trains
at Baltimore bound North, and seated
themselves in. the ladies' car. They
were drinking, smoking, swearing, and
conducting themselves in the most dis
gusting manner. The conductor came
in and ordered them out of the car,
whereupon a captain in the party
placed the conductor under ar
rest,and compelled him to sit in the cor
ner of the carand keep quiet. A stranger
in a military cloak had been watching
the manceuvres of these swaggering
bullies, and at this juncture stepped up
to the, captain and demanded to know
the cause of the disturbance. " Hold
your ton
y g ouu ue," said the captain,
Will putunder arrest too." ' I think
not,,,d the stranger,
and beckoning
to an orderly who'had been sitting near
him, he said, "Put these men in irons,"
and thrbwing off his cloak disclosed to
their: astonished •view the stars of
Major General. " Give, me a full list of
these men,' said the General. His de
mand 'wag . instantly complied with.—
" Now go; to 'the smoking car, and re
port to meat nine o'clock to morrow
morning, at No. in Philadelphia."
They reported the next morning, and
the privates were deprived of their for
lough, ancrtliq officer dismissed.—Man
cheater (.M Illy Union. •
• A statemont of. the public debt to Juno
Ist is about to be published.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
Busztriess Anverensirinor4'7l4er Per
square of ten lines; ten per OSAV. iliCregae for
fractions of a year.
REAL OSTATir, PM• s , •OI4AL - PEOPlatsmotild
Osa-
EaAL Anvaarzealto, 7 cents (aline ,for- the
first, and 4 cents Ihr each
. subsequesa loser.
Paysztrr BlicmcrsEs and other adverts trY the
column: -
Onooolmnn, 1 year, ..... • ......4100 •
Half columns 60
Third column, 1 40•
Quarter 80
Busrersascolumn
Cams, of ten lines or 143ss,
one year ,:......__..:....:..:»... 10
Business Card s , five lines or less, one
year,. . .....
LEGA-L AND OTHER NOTICES-
Executors' notices-- . 2.00
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Aesignees' notides, ' 200'
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Other "Notices," ten lines, or less,
three times
Negro Outrage.
A most cowardly and brutal murder
was committed at Shelbyville, Ky., on
the 19th instant, by a negro soldier.
Thomas C. M'Grath, U. S. Deputy
Collectorof Internal Revenue, was shot
and instantly killed by a negro soldier,
without cause or provocation. The fol
lowing are the circumstances of the
case:
A nigger trooper proceeded in a very
scientific manner to break open the door
of a warehouse belonging to Mr.
M'Grath, which is situated Just in the
rear of the Court House, at Shelby
ville, and adjoining the residence of Mr.
M'Grath.
M'Grath observing his efforts, stepped
up to the nigger and requested him very
mildly to desist, telling him there was
very valuable machinery in itbelonging
to other parties, which had been con
signed to him for sale. The negro did
so without a word, or any altercation
whatever. M'Grath unlocked the door
and went in ; and while he was in the
warehouse the nigger went to the Court
House, got his gun and returned. Mc-
Grath came out of the house, locked the
door, and started to his residence, a few
feet distance, when, without one word,
the wretch shot his victim in the back,
killing him instantly.
Of course this brutal outrage created
the most intense excitement. The
Court House was soon surrounded by a
vast throng of men, citizens and sol
diers, armed with every species of
weapons. Nigger troops remained in
the Court House, not one of them daring
to show himself at a window. A cry 7
for vengeance arose alike from the lips
of citizens and soldiers. The wretch
was seized, and would have been hung
in an instant by the soldiers, but for
Colonel Buckley, who implored his
men to let him be regularly tried. The
assassin is now under guard. What
will be done with him is unknown.
From every part of the South we hear
of these negro outrages, and we have
yet to see the first word of condemna
tion Df them on the part of the Abolition
press of the country. Step by step we
are drifting to ultimate anarchy and
ruin, as the Republicans seem deter
mined to build up allegro aristocracy on
the ruined wealth and misfortunes of
the South.
A Grand Fleet to Start on a Visit to
Europe.
WASHINGTON, May 29.
A FLEET FOR EIIROPE.
The many naval officers in the city
are much excited in relation to the ap
proachingrendezvousof Admiral Golds
borough's fleet at Fortress Monroe.—
'Phis fleet will be composed of from
thirty to sixty sail, and will depart for
the Mediterranean, on a three years'
cruise, about the•lth of July. The naval
officers are gesticulating excitedly with
each other as to who shall go and who
shall stay behind. The New Ironsides
and two double-turreted monitors will
make part of the fleet. The flag ship
will be the Colorado. She will drop
anchor for several months in the harbor
of Marseilles,and then the restof the fleet
will scatter for various points of the sea.
About ten vessels will cruise about the
British Isles and in the North Sea. The
ocean, at the time of the year designa
ted, is generally smooth as a duck-pond,
and the iron -clads, it is presumed, will
get across bravely. Admiral Golds
borough's privatvboat will be a small
steam vessel, formerly called the A. D.
Vance. The object of this expedition
is to acquaint our pilots with European
harbors, and to test the sea-going quali
ties of our marines, as well as to show
Europe the advances we have made in
naval architecture and gunnery. We
shall lose nothing by thus plainly ex
hibiting our strength, as every board of
admiralty in Europe has already plans
and models of every gunboat we have
built during the war.
There is nothing out of the way in
this cruise. Before the war we made
such expeditions frequently ; but now
we shall send abroad more vessels than
before constituted our entire navy. The
world, therefore, will get some inkling
of us; heretofore its acquaintance with
the States has been chiefly derived from
rebel privateers. The Deerhound may
come out if she chooses to see the
brothers and sisters of the Kearsarge.
Admiral (oldsborough is an excellent
talker, and will do the oratory for the
Jack Tars of the West. This expedition
will make an era in the history of the
continent. The Wilkes exploring ex
pedition is nowhere. The present will
miss more than that ever discovered.
Night the Poor Man's Friend
Night levels all artificial distinction.
The beggar on his pallet of straw snores
as soundly as a king on a bed of down.
Night—kind, gentle, soothing refresh
ing night, the earthly paradise of the
slave, the sweet oblivion of the worn
soul, the nurse of romance, of devotion;
how the great panting heart of society
yearns for the return of night and rest!
Sleep is God's special gift to the poor;
for the great there is no time fixed for
repose. Quiet, they have none; andin
stead of calmly awaiting the approach of
events they fret and repine, and starve
sleep and chide the tardy hours, as if
every to-morrow were big with the fate
of some great hereafter. The torrent of
events goes roaring past, keeping eager
expectation constantly on tiptoe, and
drives timid slumber away.
A New Use for Old Nails
It is stated as a new discovery that
wonderful effects may be obtained by
watering fruit trees and vegetables with
a solution of sulphate of iron. Under
this system beans will grow to nearly
double the size, and willacquire a mush
more savory taste. The pear seems to
be particularly well adapted for this
treatment. Old nails thrown into water
and left to rust there will impart to it
all the necessary quail fications of forcing
vegetation as described.
—A bachelor sea cap-
A BROAD HINT
tain who was remarking the other day
that he wanted a good chief officer, was
promptly informed by a young lady
present, that she had no objection to be
his first mate. He took the hint—and
the lady.
—A Massachusetts judge has decided
that a husband may open a wife's let
ters, on the ground so often and so
torsely stated by Mr. Theopilus Parsons,
of Cambridge, that "the husband and
wife are one, and the husband is that
one!"
A cheerful heart is the best cosmetic
for improving the . complexion ; it keeps
the blood warm, forehead smooth, and
the eye bright. Health is commonly
called a beautifier, and so it is ; but
health itself is, in a good degree, de
pendent on the cheerful spirit that can,
in the wintry storm, look an east wind
in the face without scowling. The
cheerful face is never without a charm;
like music its influence makes us better
andhapp:ur. Cheerfulness seemsspirit
ual bea " - Mipade palpable to sight.
—The darkey who greased his feet so
thathe could not make a noisewhenhe
went to steal chickens, slipped from the
hen roost into the custody of the' owner.
He gave, as reason for his being' there,
" Dat he cum dar to see of de" . chich'ens
Bleeped with dere eyes open." He was
cooped. •
Catron, of the Sttprem.e Contt.or
the United States, died on Wednesday
Nashville.