guraoattrilutelligtuctx, ,,, 9ANDE . R.SON.t . OO J. M. COOPEE, ' , H.. G, 1731d=a, SAT6I/302i. WM. A. Mos Tort, TER ME3.;-Two• Dollars per annum, payable all cases in advance. • -OFFICE--Botrrit-wEsr•comma OF CENTRE' {MARE. —Ali letters on business should be ad tressed t.O COOPER, PANDERSON. 4 1 k CO. Titerarp. Miss Preelesa , s Principles Italie most precise of country villages, in the prirriniest mansion ever built, dweltthemostprecise maiden ever born, Miss Preciosa Lockwood. Even in that serious town, where laughter was reck oned one of the smaller sins, and. the family in whose dwelling lights were geen burning after ten o'clock were con sidered dissipated, there was g current joke regarding Lock wood Cottage,which giddy girls had dubbed "The Nunne ry," and some even went so far as to call Miss Preciosathe "Lady Superior." Certainly, convent walls never closed themselves more grimly against man-. kind, gentle and simple, old and young. What in many an excellent spinster has been an affectation, was genuine with Preciosa. Long ago a pretty little cousin, who had been hereon fidante and companion, had become acquainted with a rascal with a handsome face and a serpent's soul, and had e'oped with him. They heard of her wearing velvet and dia monds, but no wedding ring, and driv ing about New Orleans in a handsome carriage, wondered at and admired for her beauty, and shunned for her sin. And, at last, after a long silence about her doings, a faded thing in rags came creeping at night to Miss Preciosa's cot tage, begging for God's sake that she would let her in to die. Miss Preciosa did the reverse of what most women do. She gave a sister's hand to the poor vic tim—nursed her until she - died, and buried her decently . , 'and thenceforth shut her spinster home to man. She was barely twenty-seven, and far front plain, but she argued thus: Something in a stovepipe hat and boots has wrought thin ill—all who wear those habiliments mu be tabooed. Si e kept her resolution. From the pool house she selected a small servant mai( not yet old enough to think of "fellows." As cook she kept a hideous old female, too far advanced in years to remember them. The milk was brought by a German woman. The butcher's wife, by request, brought in the joints. FiCitll a woman cut the grass in the gar den when it was too long, and if a man approached the gates, ancient _Deborah, the cook, was sent forth to parley with and obstruct his approach. Having thus made things safe, Miss Preeiosa went to New York - and brought home a dead sister's daughter, who had hitherto been immured in a boarding school, and the arrangements were com plete. Miss Lockwood took her niece to church, also to weekley meeting. They spent afternoons out with widow ladies with no grown upsons, or with spinsters who resided in solitary state. The elder lady kept an Argus eye upon her blooming niece, and bold in deed would have been the man who dared address her. For her part, Miss Bella Bloom was an arch hypocrite. She had learned that at a boarding school where inge nuity is exhausted hi deceiving the authorities, and doing always exactly what is most forbidden. Bella Bloom came to Locit•wood Cottage perfectly competent to hoodwink her aunt. She did it. Preeiosa blessed her stars that her niece was well principled. the hated men. She wondered how any young lady could walk and talk and be sociable with and marry them. And when she thought she lived in a home where they could not intrude, how thankful she was aunt Preeiosa could never guess. And all the while Bella was chafing inwardly at her restraint, envying girls who had pleasant little flirtations at will, and keeping up a private corres pondencewith a certain Dear George" who sent his lettrs under cover to the butcher's wife, who brought them in with the beef and mutton, and said, " Bless ye, natur will be natur for all old maids; and I was a gall oust, afore Cleaver courted me." Dear George was desperate. He could not live without seeing his Bella. He wrote bitter things about spinster aunts. He alluded feelingly to those rendezvous in the back garden of the seminary, with Miss Clover standing sentry at the gate on the lookout for a governess and enemy. The first opportunity he was coming to Plainacres, and intende Ito see his Bella, or die. Was he not twenty three and she seventeen ? Were they to waste their lives at a spirster's bidding? Miss Preciosa, with her Argus-eyed watchfulness, sat calmly hour by hour two inches from the locked drawer of a cabinet which contained the gentle man's letters, and dined from meals which had been the means of conveying them across the threshold, inculcating her principles into the minds of her niece and her handmaiden, the latter of whom grinned behind her lady's chair without reserve. Charity Pratt, having grown to be sixteen, also had her secret. It was the apothecary's boy Wlin, in his OWII peculiar fashion, had expressed an miration at church by staring. A few days after, Dr. Green, the bach- elor minister, called at the cottage. De borah went out to huff and snap, and was subdued by the big eyes. She came "Miss," said she, "the clergyman is out there." "Where?" gasped rreciosa. "In the garding, Miss watm' you." "Me ! You said, of course, I was out?" "No, Miss. Everybody receives their pastor." So the pastor was ushered in. H, conversed of church affairs. Miss Pre ciosa answered by polite monosylables. Bella smiled and stitched. Deborah sat on a hall chair on guard. Finally, the best specimen of that bad creature, man was got out of the house safely, and the ladies looked at each other as those might who had been closeted with a polar bear and escaped unharmed. " He's gone, aunty," said the hypo crite. " Thank goodness !" said sincere Precisiosa. " I thought I should have fainted. Never let it happen again, De borah. Remember,Pmalwayseng,aged." " But he seems a nice, well spoken, good-behaved kind of a gentleman," said Deborah. " And a clergyman." "So he does," said Preciosa. " But appearances are deceitful. I once knew a gentleman—" " Yes, Miss." " A Doctor of Divinity, Bella—" " Yes, aunt." " Ah ! who—who—" " Well ?" " Who kissed a young lady of his con gregation in her father's garden." " Oh ! aunt !" "He afterwards married her. But I never, could visit her or like him." " . I . 3lessyou, no," said Deborah, "Now .• :q .- 1. 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' VOLUME, 66 the test thing you can do - is to have a cup of strong green tea and something pourishing to keep your spirits up. Cleaver's wife has just fetched oysters in." (Private signal to Bella.) "Has she? Oh, I love oysters!" cried Bella, and ran to get dear George's Last, It was a brief one., and in it George vowed' to appear at the cottage when they least expected him and demand his betrothed. That evening at dusk, Miss Preciosa walked in the garden alone. She was thinking of a pair of romantic big eyes, of a soft voice and a softer hand which she had been surprised into allowing to shake hers. " It's a pity men are so wicked," said she, and sighed. Although she was near thirty she looked very pretty as she walked in the moonlight, forgetting to put on prim airs and graces and to stiffen herself. Her figure was much like her•niece Bella's, so much so that some one on the other side of the con vent-like wall, with eyes upon a level with its upper stones, fancied it was that young lady. Under thisbelief he clam bered up, stood at the top, and whisper ed, "My dearest, look up, your best be loved is here ; behold your George!" And Preeiosa, lifting her eyes, beheld a man on her wall, flung up her hands in the air, and uttered a shriek like that of an enraged peacock. The gentleman discovered his mistake, endeavored to retreat, stumbled and fell heiidlong among flower-pots and boxes, and lay there quite motionless. The shriek and the clatter aroused the house. Deborah, Bella and Charity Pratty rushed to the scene, and found a gentleman in a sad plight, bloody and senseless, and Miss Preciosa half dead with terror. Bella, recognizing dear George, faint ed in good earnest. Preciosa, encouraged by numbers, addressed the prostrate youth. " Get up young man, and go. Your wickedness has been, perhaps, suffi ciently punished. Do go. He can't ; he's dead," said Deborah. Oh, what a sudden judgment ! Are sure he's dead Then take him into the house, and the doctor." They laid him on the bed and medi cal aid came. The poor fellow had broken a leg. "He'd get well. Oh yes, but hecould lot be moved." Miss Preciosa could not murder a Tel ow creature, and she acquiesced. "He can't run oil with thespoons nu ll his leg is better," said Deborah. " He isn't able to elope with any one," said Miss Preeiosa ; and we should be gentle with the erring. Who shall we rind to nurse him " Old Todds is competent, Miss," said Deborah. " - Yes. Do send for that old person," said the lady. And old Todds Caine. He, of course, dwelt in the house. 'l' he doctor came every day. The apothecary's boy in vaded the hall with medicines ; and finally when the young man came to his senses, lie desired earnestly to see his friend, Dr. Green. "Our clergyman his friend ?" said reciosa. "He must have been misled, nen ; surely his general conduct must e proper. May be this is the first time e looked over a wall to make love to a lady. By all means send for Dr Green." Thus the nunnery was a nunnery no more. Two men under the roof. Three ,visiting it daily! What was the world coining to '.' Miss l'reeiosa dared not think. Bella was locked in her own room in the most decorous manner while her aunt was in the house, but when she was absent Debora and Charity sympathized and abetted, and read and talked deliciously to dear George lying on his back with his hand some face as pale and his spirits so low, iioor fellow ! Troubles always come together. That evening Miss Preciosa received infor mation that legal affairs connected with her property, which was considerable, demanded her presence in New York, and left the eslablishment, which never before so much needed its Lady Supe rior. She returned after three days, to ward evening, no one expecting her. " I shall give them a pleasant surprise," she thought, and slipped in the kitchen way. There a candle burned, and on one chair sat two people—Charity Pratt and the druggist's boy. He had his arm about her waist. Miss Preciosa grasped the door frame and shook from head to foot. "I'll go to Deborah," she said. "She can speak to that misguided girl better than I." She faltered forward. Deborah was in the back area scouring tea-knives. Be side her stood old Toads, the nurse. They were talking. "Since my old woman died," said Toddy, " I hain't seen no body scour like you—and the pies you does make." " They ain't better than other folks,'' ,:aid I grimly coquettish. " They air," said Todds ; and, to Miss Preciosa's horror, he followed up the compliment by asking for a kiss. Miss Preciosa struggled with hysterics and fled parlorward. Alas! a murmur of sweet voices. She peeped in. Through the window swept the' fragrance of honey-suckle. Moonlight mingled with that of the shaded lamp. Bella leaned over an chair in which reclined George Lovehoy. This time Preciosa was petri fied. " Dearest Bella," said George. " My own," said Bella. " How happy we are!" "Oh, so happy !" " And when shall we be together again? You know I must go. Your aunt don't want me here, Bella. I must tell her. Why are you afraid of her?" " She's so prim and good, dear soul," said Bella. " Ah, you do not love me as I do you." " George!" " You don't. - Would I let an aunt stand between us?" " Oh George, you know I've told you that nothing could change me. - Why, if you had staid lame, and had to walk on crutches all your life, it would have made no difference, though I fell in love with you for your walk. I don't deny it." "And I," said George, "would have almost have been content had fate willed that I should be a crippleto have been so cherished, to have reposed on so faithful a bosom." " Oh, oh, oh !" from the doorway, checked the speech. Those last awful words had well nighlkilled Miss Preciosa Lockwood. Hysterics supervened, and in their midst a gentleman was an nounced. The Rev. Peter Green. " Show him in," said Preciosa, " I need counsel. Perhaps he may give it." And for the first time in herlife she hailed the entrance of " a man,-'.: " Mr. Diveboyleft the room as stealth . ily and as, speedily as possible. Miss Bella followed him. Charity was in the pantry hidingherhead,andDeborah returned to the cellar. Alone the Lady Superior received the Reverend Peter Green. She faltered and blushed. " You are, I presume, already aware of the fact that I am much disturbed in mind." she said. " Yes, Madam. This is perceptible." "You are my spiritual adviser, sir.— To you, though a man, I turn for ad vice," and she shed a tear or two. "My own household has turned against me," and shjtold him all. •.The reverend Peter made big eyes at her, and broke the truth gently. " My dear Madam, do you not know that old Jonathan Todds and your faith ful Deborah intend to unite their for tunes in the bands of holy wedlockxext Sabbath ?" " Know it! Oh, the old, old sinners! Are they in their dotage!" "Or that Charity Pratt, who seems a likely sortof a girl, has promised to give her hand to Zeddock Saltz on Thurs day ?' " Oh, Dr. Green! What do I hear?" " The truth, Madam. Can you hear more ?'' " I hope so." • "'Then it is time that you should be informed that Miss Bella Bloom and Mr. George Loveboy have been engaged a year. They have corresponded regu larly. It was to see her he climbed the garden wall and met with his accident. Don't give away, Madam—don't." " You're very kind," said Miss Pre ciosa ; " but it is awful! What would you advise?" " I should say : Allow Todds and De borah to marry next Sunday." ''Yes, sir." "And Charity and Zeddoch on the day they have fixed. And I should sanction the betrothal of your niece and Mr. Loveboy, and allow me to unite them at sonic appointed day before the altar." " My own niece!" said Miss Preciosa. Oh, my own niece !" "Do you so seriously object to wed dings t"' asked the pastor. ",No—no," said l'reciosa. It's this awful courting I dislike." " I agree with you," said the pastor. I have resolved, when T marry, to come to the point at once. Miss Preciosa the parsonage needs a mistress. I know of no lady I admire and esteem as I do you. Will you make me happy? will you be my wife Preciosa said nothing. Her cheeks burned ; her lids drooped. He came a little closer. He made bigger eyes at her than ever. At la,il;is lips approach ed and touched herNcheek, and still she said nothing. In such a case " speech is silver, but silence is gold." Deborah was married on Sunday, it being her fortieth birthday. Charity on Tuesday. Miss :Bloom gave her hand to George Loveboy in a month : and on the same day a brother clergyman united Preciosa and the ILe v. Peter Green. Aud the nunnery was broken up for ever. Cory O'Lanus on Family Affairs. The Brooklyn L'«yie has a eorrespon ent who knows a thing or two. Hear It is a good thing for a man to pay at tention to his family. Provided he has one. Married men generally have. So have I. It is the natural consequence of get ting married. Families, like everything else, are more expensive than they used to lie.— Shoes and clothes cost a sight nowa days, and children have mostly good appetites. Mine have. Boys will be boys. They can't help it. They were born so. It is their des tiny to tear their trousers, and wear out two pairs of boots per month ; keeping their ma constantly employed like a be sieged garrison repairing breeches, and their unfortunate pa paying out currency ' under strong conviction that there is nothing like " leather"—to wear out. I tried copper-toed boots on my heir. The copper wore well, and I have an idea that copper hoots would be a good idea, but I couldn't find a metallic shoe maker to carry it out. Mrs. O'L. also became attached to copper, and thought it would he an im provement and save sewing it boys' pantaloons were, like ships and tea kettles, copper-bottomed. The sugges tion was A No. 1, but we haven't tried it yet. Copper so ran in my head at the time that O'Pake called me a copperhead. This was the origin of the term. Mrs. O'L. is a managing woman. She makes trousers for our son, Alexander Themistocles, out of mine, when I•ve done with them. He can get through three pair to my one, ordinarily, and am obliged to wear out my clothes faster than I used to to keep him supplied. I once suggested that it might be within the resources of art and industry to make him a pair out of new material. Mrs. O'L. said positively that it couldn't be done. It would ruin us. She concluded it was cheaper to cut up a pair I paid twelve dollars for. idly found upon in,iuir:.; that , Our ti, it pari,oe Jai hay. bc, rr bought for about two dollars. I ventured to tell Mrs. O'L., expect ing a triumph of male foresight over female lack of judgment. She gave me a look of scorn as she wanted to know if I had asked theprice of " trimmings." Trimmings were to() Much for me. I have been afraid of trimmings ever since. In addition to clothes, the scion ofour house runs up other expenses. But what is the expense compared with the joy a father feels, when after a day's laborious exercise at the ofliee, wrestling with a steel pen, he returns to his domestic retreat, and is met at the gate by a smiling cherubim, who, in tones that go to his fond parent's heart, and makes him forget his troubles, with, "Hallo, pa, give me a penny." Your hand immediately goes to the seat of your affections—your pocint— and draws forth the coveted coin, which is promptly invested in molasses candy. 'Wouldn't Bite A witty clergyman had been lecturing one evening in a country village, on the subject on temperance, and, as usual, after the lecture, the pledge was passed around for signatures. " Pass it along that way," said the lecturer, pointing towards a gang of bloated and red nosed loafers near the door. " Pass it along—perhaps some of those gentlemen would like to join our cause." "We don't bite at a bare hook," gruffly muttered one of the rummies. " Well," replied the ready clergyman, I believe there is a fish called suckers that do not bite." THREW IT BACK.—" Mary why did you kiss your hand to the gentleman opposite, this morning ?" said a careful mother to her fair daughter. " Why, the gentleman had the impudence to throw a kiss clear across the street, and of course I threw it back indignantly. You would not have me encourage hiia by keeping it would you ?" LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 23, 1865. 110 W Tom Corwin Hid His Sister of an • • - Obnoxious lover. Every one has heard of the eloquent, pathetic and humorous stump orator of Ohio. He was pronounced by Mr. Clay (a most competent authority) , to be the finest stump speaker he had everheard ; and in this opinion I most heartily coin cide, after having heard Clay, Critten den, Jones of Tennessee, Polk, Benja min, Soule, Randall, Hunt, Tom Mar- shall, General .Lamar, Bates, Douglas, awl a host of others. Well, this great orator carried his love of fun into every department of life. In the private circle, where he knew every person, and where he unbosomed him self fully, he was the most delightful conversationalist I ever listened to. I do not know that he now, as age and infirmities are creeping on, indulges this proclivity to mirth and humor so much as he used to do; but some twenty years ago he used to tell with great gus to the following story: In early life—so early that I cannot remember the removal—my father pulled up stakes," and carrying with him the household goods, went from Bourbon co., Ky., where I was born, to Ohio. Notwithstanding a rough and tumble struggle with the world, I had a hard time to get on, owing to a numer ous and rapidly increasing family. Well, family matters had not much improyed when I had reached my thirteenth or fourteenth year. At this time there lived in the neigh borhood a young man by the name of Pickering. He had inherited a well stocked farm, was good looking, and made afitrong profession df religion.— This latter qualification caused him to be looked upon with peculiar favor by my father, who was always blinded by professions of extra piety. This fellow had a strong hankering after one drily sisters, who was a very pretty girl, To her he was peculiarly distasteful. She seemed almost annoy ed at his presence. Yet he was ever at her side. She dared not dismiss him entirely for fear of the paternal anger. Things went on this way a year or two, and as 1 partook largely of my sister's hatred toward him, I resolved to get rid of him in some way. I cast about for a plan for some time, but nothing oc curred to give me the slightest hope of being in any way successful. At last, returning home late one sum- mer night from the mill, I found the family at their evening devotions.— Passing by the room in which they were assembled I saw that Pickering was there, and pretty soon discovered that he was nodding, and finally his head dropped. Now was my oppor tunity. I stole slowly into the hall, and reaching the hall door, which was slightly ajar, and close by which Picker ing was on " bended knee,'' I reached in, and quickly pulling his chair from under him, he fell heavily, as a sound sleeper would, upon the floor. The noise alarmed all. The old gen tleman stopped in the midst of his al most interminable prayer, and saw the position or Pickering. All the family laughed outright, and even my mother Pickering endeavored to pickhimself up as rapidly as possible, but he had touched the old man on his tenderest point. It was evident from his rubbing his eyes, that he had slept under the old gentleman's ministrations—and bad not my father a reputation far and wide for the fervency and strength of his minis trations? Slowly, yet tuost dignifiedly, did the old man approach hint. " Begone ! hypocrite!" he cried iu thundering tones, "never enter my house again !" Pickering was thunderstruck. He felt that he could make no apology Lhat would not add to insult. He had no suspicion of the extra force which had aided him in his fall. He at once found his hat, took up his line of march and, completely crestfallen, passed by me as I stood grinning in the shadow of the porch. At a suitable time I entered, got my supper, was told by my brother what had happened, and then I stole off to bed, affecting ignorance, and laughing most heartily as I ensconced myself be tween the sheets, at the complete suc cess of my plan. The next day I cautiously imparted the secret to my sister. She was in her own room at the time, and she threw herself upon the bed in agonies and con vulsions of laughter. She had been emancipated forever from the obnoxious lover. The old gentleman did not hear the real state of the facts for full twenty years afterward, but when he did he laughed heartily. Why Don't You Learn a Trade? This question was propounded, in our hearing a few days since, to a young man who had been for several months ansuccessfully seeking employment as a clerk or salesman in one of our lead ing houses. Complaining of his ill luck, one of his friends who knew he had Inc,.hanicat talent, but doubted whether he could make himself useful either as a clerk or salesman, put the interrogatory to him which we have placed as the caption of this article. The reply was, that a trade was not so re spectable as a mercantile occupation. Under this delusive idea, our stores are crowded with young men who have no capacity for business, and who, because of the fancied respectability of doing nothing, waste away their minority up on their salaries which cannot possibly liquidate their expenditures. Late, too late in life, they discover their error, and, before they reach the age of thirty, many of them look with envy upon the thrifty mechanic, whom in the days of their boyhood they were accustomed to deride. The false view of respectability which prevail soi dis tant fashionable society of the present day, have ruined thousands of young men, and wilLruin thousands more. A mouse ranging about a brewery, happened to fall into a vat of beer, and appealed to a cat to help him out. The cat replied— " It is a foolish request, for as soon as I get you out I shall eat you up." The mouse replied, that fate would be better than to be drowned in beer. The cat lifted him out, but the fumes of the beer caused puss to sneeze, and the mouse took refuge in his hole. The cat called on the mouse to come out. "You, sir, did you not promise that I should eat you ?" " A_h" replied the mouse, "but you know I was in liquor at that time." The proprietors of the Bangor, Maine, Democrat have begun legal proceedings against eighteen "loyal" residents of Ban gor, Oldtown and Presque Isle, to secure damages for the destruction of their print ing establishment in 1861. The sum sued for is $.30,000. A Proper Plea Satwdai• [From the La Crosse (Wis.) Democrat.] One by one the days go out. Saturday night comes. Oue by one the hopesgoout. Eternity comes. Like hail stones, the days drop from the clouds of time, to fall cold and drearY into the fathomless past. Each day is a life—is a history. The hopes of the morning are tears by night—the air castles * of. Monday are the graves of Saturday night, alas, too oft. God gives us sun, life, rain,, health, friends and that which is more blessed than all, golden Hope. All the rest desert us, but Elope, twin sister of Immortality, is ours through the week—into and be yond Saturday night—into the grave to bear us dry and happy through the Stygian flood and on to God. Bless ed be Hope, and blessed be the nights which call us to kneel at her altar. Changes have comeduring theinterim between this and last Saturday night. Many a mound in the churchyard or cemetery marks God's bruises on the desolate human heart. Many a heart joy has been dipped in sadness. Many a dress which one week since was white is now the deepest mourning. Some mourn. Some wear mourning while the heart rejoices. Some there are whose hearts are darker than the grave, for the lamp oflove is broken and the joy of years has gone home. Scarlet buds and sombre olossoms. Such is life. Who of us all is nearer Heaven than one week since? Who of us have laid up treasures above? Who of us have mellowed the earth in which all must rest? The account is fm or against us ! We all thought and vowed one week since to do right, but alas for tempta tion ! All of us have argued with the subtle reasoner—few of us have come iff victorious. Prayers have been ut ered since last Saturday night. Curses have been invoked. The record has been perfectly kept, and some day 'tw ill be opened to our eyes. Let us rest from labor and renew our vows. By the fam- ily fireside—by the family altar—by the cot and th e couch there's much to do this night. Look back down the dark lane. See what a wreck is there strewn.— Hopes which have died. Promises badly broken. Good intentions and noble resolutions lie bleeding and torn as far back as the eye can reach. Hard words lie where soft ones would have been better. There are disappointments and betrayals, bitter words and wicked acts strewn thick over the ground.— Ruins—ruins—ruins ! Here and there a fragrant flower lifts its silent voice and rears its pearly leaf to gladden the debris around. Here and there a blossom.— Here and there, but .j,OO far apart can be seen the beautiful in strange contrast to the ruins and wrecks. Life is a dark lane. Would to God there were more flowers and fewer ruins ! - Would there were more loves and fewer hates. More white and less red. How thrchanges come over us! What gave joy is now a pile of ashes! The lips we loved to kiss a week since, now have no nectar! The hand which once thrilled in rapture at the slight touch of love, now forgets to answer hack! The eye has grown cold or worse than indifferent! Who is to blame? Some one. And why? None but God, can tell truly ! As the sun goes down and the Sabbath rises, let us strive again ! Mother! clasp still closer to your heart the pledge you now caress, for God may want it back before another Saturday night is yours. The pet you kissed and caressed one week ago, has been taken away—who will go next? Deal gently with those who have erred. Heaven is forgiving. God is love. Strive to be happy. Let kind words, good wishes and liberality of sentiment, expand all our heartsthis night,for they areblessed intluenees—none too plenty. If you have a friend draw him closer to your heart. If you have a life in your keeping, do by it as you would be done by. Pause ere you do evil. Think of the reward there is for those who re sist temptation—for those who love.— Look back. Listen! A little, prattling voice, now stilled in death !—a mother's gentle tones, perhaps well nigh forgot ten!—a sister's plaintive eye is calling you to happiness! Look over the past —the blessed memories—the mementoes of the heart—and tell us if you are not glad that Heaven is nearer by one more SATURDAY NIGHT. Very Bad Liquor The business of the Court in one of the frontier territories was drawing to a close when one morning a rough sort of a customer was arraigned on a charge of stealing. After the clerk had read the indictment to him, he put the question, " Guilty or not guilty !" "Guilty but drunk, your honor,l an swered the prisoner. " What's the plea ?" asked the Judge, half dozing on the bench. " He pleads guilty, but says he was drunk," replied the clerk. " What's the case?" " May it please your honor," said the prosecuting attorney, "the man is reg ularly indicted for stealing a large sum of money from the Columbus Hotel," "He is, hey? and pleads—" "He pleads guilty, but drunk." The judge was now fully aroused, " Guilty, but drunk—this is a most ex traordinary plea. Young man, you are certain you were drunk ?" " Yes, sir." " Where did you get your liquor?" " At Sterret's." "Did you get none anywhere else?" "Not a drop, sir." " You got drunk on his liquor, and afterwards stole the money ?" "Yes, sir." " Mr. Prosecutor," said the Judge, "do me the favor to enter in that man's case a nolle prosequi. That liquor at Sterret's is enough to make a man do anything dirty; I got drunk on it my self the other day, and stole all Sterret's spoons ! Release the prisoner, Mr. Sheriff. Adjourn the court." Worth Knowing A correspondent says: A young lady while in the country some years ago stepped on a rusty nail, which ran though her shoe and foot. The inflamma tion and pain was of course very great, and lockjaw apprehended. A friend of the family recommended the applica tion of a beet, taken fresh from the gar den and pounded fine, to the wound. It was done and the effect beneficial. Soon the inflammation began to subside and keeping on the fresh beet, and changing it for a fresh one as its v?rtue seemed to become impaired, a speedy cure was effected. Simple but effectual remedies like this should be known to everybody. —Senator Davis, of Kentucky, has had an interview with the President in relation to the military interference with the Ken tacky election. ° Singular Freak of a Lunatic. Has any one noticed the minatnre fort at the top of Blackwell's Island to the north of the Lunatic Asylum? It is the work of an insane man, who spent half of his life upon it. He lost his mind in Mexico, where high pri vates were in demand, and just escaped being Mr. Armstrong,. Mr. Parrott, or Whitworth by going crazy. Gunnery was what ailed him—and fortifications: As he was found to be quite hopeless and obedient to his manomania, they gave him entrenchment tools and told him to fortify the Island. He took the geographical and geological bearings with the accuracy of a West Pointer, and concluded that if any attack would be made it would come from the Sound. So he devised a sea coast battery with bomb-proof, ap proached by a dyke with sluices and gates, and mounting heavy ordnance. There never was a more patient worker for humanity or 'patriotism than this poor addle bead. Nobody else being insane upon the same point he could get no assistance. Ali the other inoumna- niacs had oil on the brain, or poetry, or capital punishment, or negro suffrage, and were quite as devoted and zealous as he upon their several claims. So the old soldier, with a long sigh and a brave heart, took up his single shovel and commenced to build the whole fort by himself. He wheeled barrow after barrow of earth into the sea, tugging front morning till night, until at last he raised a narrow cause way from the mainland to a rock at the end of a long sand bar. With pebbles and stones from the river, he walled this causeway until it became perma nent. All this was not a mouth's or a year's work ; year after year passe over his gray hairs, but lie kept on wheeling, wheeling. The great city, or the greater island needed protection, and he was making the iegis. So he went on like the men who threw up the Charleston redoubts, and for fear that he might be late to his task he left his bed in the Asylum altogether and built himself a hut close by his placeof labor Here he slept and dwelt, in company only of his assuring conscience ; and at last when his path was done, he set to work at his fort. The result of all these years is before us. His battery is sodded green, with parapet, beam, ditch, magazine, revet ments, abbatis, and mounts Mock and Quaker guns, upon carriages of capital construction; look ingup from the Sou nd toward Hell Gate, like real arbiters of dominion. The lunatic is worn and fail ing, but he is not satisfied. His fort is done, but not his whole duty. So he has projected a water battery and sea-wall around the entire Island and means to bring to bear upon it all the knowledge of Vauban and Todleben. When the Island is impregnable he will wrap his mantle about him and die at his battery. For the truth of all this story let any one passing up the East river look upon the Island tip, and see au old man ditch ing and building, and the little fort close by him bristling with pop gulls. Peculiarities of Uganda The following is a pleasant specimen of a merry, rollicking young African king, of the native pattern, pure and There is little drunkenness among these people. The hills are such a mass of tall reeds and grasses that cattle can not penetrate them. Pleasant walks are cut through therm and kept from being grown over by the constant transit of slave-hunting parties. Katoongee re turned from one of those during my stay at Uganda. He lied captured one hundred and thirty women, chiefly old, and only lit for weeding in the fields. Some few, fit for wives, he set apart, to be given away to men thought deserving, or whose services were to be rewarded. Each woman of this class is worth three cows. An instance occurred of the king giving a single slave to one of his officers for a service performed ; the man was bold enough to ask for a second when he was.ordered to, be cut to pieces, which was ijkpitc - w ith the usual red kniel. His `limbswere carried away openly, while his trunk was wrapped up in a cloth. One day I had the curi osity to follow a woman who was being led, by a boy, to be killed. She carried a small hoe, balanced upon her head. After travelling half a rude, they turn eddown the executioner'sgarden. Close by, a lazy, yellow-beaked vulture, the cannibal of Uganda, sat-perched on the stump of a broken tree ; others hovered high over-head sniffing the repast be low. The circumstantial evidence was enough for me, and I turned back."— DP. Grant. A New Name. A young lady recently entered a shop of a fashionable Milliner, for the pur pose of making some trifling purchase. " How is your mother miss inquir ed the lady. " She is not very well," replied Af- fectionate. " Ah ! what is the matter with her?" "She fell down stairs, and hurt her court-bender very much." " Her what ?" " Courtsey-bender." " Courtsey-bender !" what is that ?" inquired the puzzled milliner. " 11(y l a ne," said the blushing damsel. Yankee Meanness The Springfield Republican has the following local item :—" An ex-officer whose pantaloons were torn, as he says, more than three years ago, by a too watchful dog, recently presented a bill of ten dollars to the widow of the owner of the dog, and, through misreprenta- tions to the effect that he was able to get a new administration of the estate, if the bill was not paid, wormed the money from her. He never presented his claim to her husband, When alive, nor to the administrator of the estate, previously settled. There are grades of meanness, and we call this transaction a pretty low grade." Our Mistakes About Each Other Not one man in ten thousand sees those with whom he associates as they really are. If the prayer of Burns were granted, and we could all see ourselves as others see us, our self estimates would in all probability be much more erro neous than they now are. The truth is that we regard each other through a variety of lenses, no one of which is correct. Passion and prejudice, love and hate, benevolence and envy, specta cle our eyes, and utterly prevent us from observing accurately. Many whom we deem the porcelain of human clay are mere dirt, and a still greater number of those we put down in our " black books," are no further off from heaven, and perchance a little nearer than the censors who condemn them. IN the Little Rock, Arkansas district, there are $140,000 paid monthly as wages to freedmen employd by the Gov ernment. There are about 3,980 in the employ of the commissary, quartermast ers and hospital departments; first-class males receiving from $25 to $5O per month and rations, and women from $l5 to $lB and rations. So reports Gen. Negro Burean Howard's traveling inspector. NUMBER, 33. kitiortilantouo. Lee's Last Battles. A Personal Photograph•—" Uncle Rob , ert" and His " Iron Grey"..-Pathetie Parting Scene Between Lee and His Men. A correspondent of the New York World writes a long letter giving an ac count of Lee's last battles. According to this correspondent the General had given orders for the evacuation of Peters burg six weeks before Grant broke through the Confederate lines, but the authoritiesoit Richmond demanded that he should hold his position, though prominent generals declared if Grant once broke through their lines, "we might as well go to Father Abraham, and say ' father, we have sinned.' " Lee au'aitcd his fate. Reinforcements poured into Grant. None came to the Army of Virginia. Then came Grant's bold push. Meade fell 140,000 strong on Lee's right near Burgess' Mill; his most efficient corps of infantry and cavalry were thrown forward; and a desperate attack was made upon the Confederate works on the White Oak road. A bloody repulse awaited the first assault, but the second was successful. At the same time the lines near Petersburg were broken by a g reat force, and the affair was de cided. The Confederate army was cut in two; the enemy held the Southside railroad, intercepting the line of retreat; and what Lee's clear military judgment had foreseen, had come to pass. The writer then details the scenes of the retreat. General Lee, in full uni form, erect as an arrow, riding his well known iron grey, led his army iu per son. The Southern army had been so long cooped up in its hovels and case mates—moving only by stealth along " covered ways "—that any movement anywhere was a relief. In addition to this, they had not yet had time to re flect. The sensation of being driven from their earthworks—now like home to them—was stunning ; and the men did not at once realize the tremendous change which had all at once taken place in the aspect of affairs. No man seemed yet to have persuaded himself of the fact that " General Lee's army," which only yesterday had held the long lines, in defiance of all comers, was to day in full retreat, and bent first of all upon escaping from the enemy they had so often defeated. Gradually, however, the unhappy condition of affairs began to dawn upon the troops; and all at once they looked the terrible fact in the face: General Lee was retreating from Virginia. Most depressing of events! and it was even a matter of very ereme doubt whether he could accomplish even that much. No troops were ever better informed than those of the South; and the private soldiers discussed the chances with a topographical knowledge which could not have been surpassed by a general officer with a map before Lim. I heard one brave tatter-demalion, evi dently from the backwoods, say, "Grant is trying to cut off old Uncle Robert at Burkesville Junction ;" and another re plied, " Grant can get there first."— These, in a few words, were the essence of the " situation." AT AMELIA couRT-Housi. The scene at Amelia Court-House on Wednesday was a curious one. The huge army trains were encamped in the suburbs of the pretty little village, and the travel-worn troops bivouacked in the fields. They were still in good spir its and seemed to have an abiding con fidence in their great commander. The brigades, though thinned by their heavy losses at Petersburg, still presented a defiant front; and the long line of vet erans with bristling bayonets, led by Longstreet, Gordon and Mahone, ad vanced as proudly as they had done in the hard conflict of the past. The troops were still in excellent iaoi•uic, and had never been readier for desperate fighting than at that moment. Men and officers were tired and hungry, but laughing ; and nowhere could be seen a particle of gloom, or shirking, or ill humor—sure syinptom in the human animal of a want of " heart of hope." will add that I saw little of it to the end. :ion. Lee'left Amelia ('ourt House on he evening of the sth, and from this line the army was incessantly engaged, particularly with the Federal cavalry. On the “th the enemy was encountered in force, and line of battle was formed to repulse them if they advanced upon the trains then moving toward High Bridge. It was on this evening thu Gens. Ewell:and Anderson were sudden ly attacked, and theircommands thrown into great confusion, in rear of the wagon trains. These officers and others including Gen. Curtis Lee, son of the General, were captured, and the drama seemed about to end here ; but it did not. To the hostile fate which seemed to be pressing him to his destruction Gen. Lee opposed a will as unconquera ble as the Greek Necessity with her iron wedge. The terrible result of this disorganization of Ewell and Anderson were averted by u movement of infan . try as rapid and unexpected as that of the Federal cavalry. From the flank ing column of Confederate infantry a brigade was pushed across at a double quick ; and between the disorganized troops of Ewell and the victorious enemy arose a wall of Confederate bayo nets, flanked by cannon. From this human rock the wave went back ; and though the lurid glare of the signals along the Federal lines in the gather ing darkness seemed the prelude to an other attack, none was made. " UNCLE ROBERT." I have spoken briefly of this scene— it was one of gloomy picturesqueness and tragic interest. On a plateau raised above the forest from which they had emerged were the disorganized troops of Ewell and Anderson, gathered in groups, unotlicered and uttering tumul tous exclamations of rage or defiance. Rising above the weary groups which had thrown themselves upon theground, were the grim barrels of cannon in bat tery to fire as soon as the enemy ap peared. In front of all was the still line of battle just placed by Lee, and waiting calmly. Gen. Lee had rushed his infantry over just at sunset, leading it in person, his face animated, and his eye brilliant with the sildiers's spirit of " fight "—but his bearing I/ nflurried as before. An artist:designing to paint his picture ought to have seen the old cavalier at this moment, sweeping on upon his large iron grey, whose mane and tail floated in the wind, carrying his field glass half raised in his right hand, with head erect, gestures ani mated, and in the whole face and form the expression of the hunter close upon his game. The line once interposed, he rode in the twilight among the dis ordered groups above mentioned, and the sight of him aroused a tumult.— Fierce cries resounded on all sides, and with hands clenched violently and raised aloft, the men called on him to lead them against the enemy. "It's General Lee!"—" Uncle Robert!" " Where's the wan who won't follow Uncle Robert ?" I heard on all sides—the swarthy faces, full of dirt and courage, lit up every instant by the glare of the Federal saiimals near. Altogether the scene was aiidescribable. This took ,-ilace on the evening of the 6th of April_ The main body of the Federal army was now closing round Lee, and it was only by obstinate and persistent fighting that he was able to continue his retreat. Everywhere the Federal forces were confronted by his excellently served artillery ; and the thin lines of infantry marching on the flank of the trains, met and repulsed every attack with the old spirit of the Army of Northern Virginia. In hunger and thirst and weariness and retreat these veteran troopsstood by their colors without a murmur ; and fought as ad mirably as when carrying all before them and flushed with victory. Others, however, were less constant—rather, let us say, less physically. competent. They fell out of the ranks by hundreds, over come by hunger and. exhaustion ; or, what was equally bad, they dropped their heavy guns and cartridge boxes, and struggled along, a useless, cumbrous mob. On the morning of the 7th, be yond-Farmville, the Federal cavalry made - continuous and desperate on- '..l3oopOras, ADYNEVIINNEOMS, $l2 S t ii% m ix, per sele erten WWI ;:ten per for fraWcins ora_year. _.- RNAL-ESTATDEY=SONAL PROPERTY, SUIC Nagri. - ..POWNIVINING, 7 cents a line ' - the firstand4 cents for each. subsequent Pere= Mecorusze and other adver's by taq One coltimn, 1 year ' .$lOO " Half coltuni4l. .. 00 Third column; l•year,.— ._ 40 - Quarter column, 80 Btnsizrzas Calms, of ten lines or less, one year 10 Business Cards, five lines or less, one year, . _ 1 1 F, GA-T. AND . oTaltit NOTICES- Executors' notices Administrators' notices ' Assignees' notices, ' Auditors' notices,. Other "Notices," ten lines, or less, three times, slaughts on the train, - throwing every thing into confusion. The teamsters, always the least soldierly - portion of an army, became panic-stricken, and-the terrible roads increased a thousand-fold the difficulties of the march. Wagons were captured and abandoned, all along, in spite of hard fighting, and from this time the retreat became a scene of dis order which no longer left any ground for hope. I intended to describe it, but the subject is too disagreeable. Let some other eye witness place upon record these last scenes of a great tragedy. THE SURRENDER On the 7th Gen. Grant opened his correspondence with Lee. This corres pondence continued until the 9th. At first Lee recoiled from the idea of a sur render. He had fought as long as he could, and done all in hispower to ex tricate his army from a position in which it had been placed by no fault of his, but the current was too strong for hint. He was everywhere surrounded, his provisions exhausted, his army rapidly weakening iyl numbers. Un der these circumstances General Lee determined to surrender his army, and did so, on condition that the officersand men should be paroled to go to their homes and remain undisturbed by the " United States authorities " as long as they remained quiet and peaceable citi zens. Officers and men were to retain their private property and the former their side arms. Such was the convention between Gen. Lee and Gen. Grant, and such the terms upon which the army surrender ed. The effect which it produced upon the troops is hard to describe. They seemed to be stupefied, and wholly un able to realize the idea. For Lee, the invincible, to yield up his sword was an incredible thing ; and ivheu the troops could no longer have any doubt, men who had fought in twenty battles, and faced death with unshrinking nerve, cried like children. To yield is a terri ble thing—a bitter humiliation ; and if the private soldiers felt it so keenly, we may imagine the feelings of the leader who was thus called upon to write that word " surrender" at the end ofso great a career. He had said once that he " intended for himself to die sword in hand •" but now not even this was per mitted him. He must sacrifice his men or surrender, and he decided without difficulty or hesitation. THE SCENES BETWEEN THE GENERAL AND 1.1 MEN The scenes whirls took place between General Lee and his men were inde scribably pathetic.. I shall not speak of them, except to say that the great heart of the soldierseemeil moved to its depths. He who had so long looked unmoved upon good fortune and bad, and kept, u the midst of disaster and impending ruin, the equanimity of a great and powerful soul, now shed tears like a child. " I have done what I thought was best for you," he said to the men. "My heart is too full to speak ; but I wish you all health and happiness." This retreat was a terrible episode of military life, unlike any which the pres ent writers ever saw; but he does not regret having borne his ]art in its hard ships and its sufferings and its humilia tions. He is glad to have seen the strug gle out under Lee, and to have shared his fate. The gre - atness and nobility of soul which characterize this eminent soldier, were all shown conspicuously in that short week succeeding the evacuation of Petersburg. He had done his best, and accepted his fate with manly courage and that.erect brow which dares destiny to do her worst; or rather, let us say, he bad bowed submis sively to the decree of that God on whom he had over placed his reliance. Lee the victor upon many hard-fought fields was a great figure; hut lie is no less grand in defeat, poverty and adver sity. Misfortune crowns a main in the eyes of his contemporaries and iu his tory; and the South is prouder of Lee to-day, and loves him noire than in his most splendid hours of victory. An Important Law Case GOV. Seymour vn. the Heirs of Jeremiah Price. of Chicago-200,000 Involved. About fifty years ago a man named Jeremiah Price built, or helped to build, the Auburn State prison, New York.— From Auburn he removed to St. Joseph, Michigan, about thirty years ago, and from there he removed to this city about 18.34 or 1833. On the 9th of May, 1835, Mr. Price entered into an agree ment with Henry Seymour, father of ex-Governor Seymour, of tica, New York, by which the latter was to ad vance $5,909, and With this Mr. Price waa to buy lands in Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio, and tin then territories of Michigan and Wi-consin. The lands purchased were to be sold at the end of five years from the 9th of May, 1835, and out of the profits of the purchase and sale, after charging to the invest ment the taxes and other charges, if any, together with seven per cent. in . terest on the investment, there was to be paid to Price one-half of the same, which one-half the profits were to be in full of his services and ex expenses of every kind, in making the explorations and searches for the lands, It was understood by the agree ment that the purchases were to be. made during the year 1833, and that no payments for services or expenses were to be made by Seymour, except from the profits from the sale of lands. It appears that when the five years transpired the lands could not be sold on account of the great decline in real estate from the speculative times of 1535. Price, however, continued to pay the taxes for some time longer, in fact, until the death of Henry Seymour by suicide in 1837. And after Mr. Sey mour's death Price continued to pay the taxes and act as agent for the property till his own death, by cholera, in 1854. During nearly twenty years he had sold none of the lands. At Mr. Price'sdeath John High, Jr., Ls 1., of this city, was appointed his administrator. He pro cured a power of attorney and sold some sixty or seventy thousand dollars worth of the lands. After some time he began to look more closely into the contract, and the result was that he concluded Price's heirs were entitled to a division of the property not sold and of the pro fits on the sales already made. The de mand for payment was then made on the heirs of Seymour, who refused to pay, upon which Mr. High filed a bill for a partition of the property for the benefit of both the heirs of Price and Seymour. It may be proper here to state that that part of the property of Mr. Price not in controversy was sold by Hon. L. C. P. Freer, master in chancery, in this city, in 1856. The amount realized was four hundred and sixty thousand dol lars. The sale was to about eighty dif ferent parties, and the master in chan cery collected the whole of this large sum of money save between seven and eight hundred dollars. Some of the property is in Grundy, Will, La Salle, and other counties, and a large portion on the prairie, about five or six miles west of the city. A great part of the property would not now realize half what it sold for in 1856, at which time speculation in real estate waxed high in this region of country. At the last term of the United States Circuit Court, held in this city, Judge David Davis presiding, the court de cided in favor of the heirs of Price, and declared- the contract upon which the bill was filed as a valid existing con tract. By this decision some one hun dred and fifty to two hundred thousand dollars is transferred from Horatio Sey mour, and the other heirs of the late Henry Seymour, to the heirs of John High, Jr., and other heirs of the late Jeremiah Price. Mr. Price was a bache lor, and died almost absolutely alone in the small house invhich he resided for many years on Washington street, east of Portland block. He died worth prob ably, in all, including this disputed claim, some six hundred thousand dol lars.—Chicago Republican. THE Kentucky Senate stands 21 Democrats to 17 Republicans. - .The House is yet in doubt. The Democratic candidate for State Treasurer is dead, and the Republican candidate is date• gerously
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