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
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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