. ; Published byebt > Wbdihcsdaybt ■ C 6 O.PE B,S AW I> EBS O &\'*! ‘‘ c!6. HVG SMITH, J.-M; COOPER, Wm. A. Mobtow, AJJTBKD Sahdb&soh - TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable all oases In advanoe, OFFlCE— Southwest oobneb or Centbe satrA&B. • 49-All letters on business sbould be ad dressed tO OOOPBB, SABDBBSON & CO. fflCtW), One Year Ago. What stars have faded from our sky! What hopes unfolded but-todlol What dreams ho fondly ponderod o’er, Forever lost the hues they wore! How like a death-knell, sad and slow* Toils through the soul, *• one year ago.” Where Is tho foco we loved to greet, The form thut graced the fireside seat, The gentle smile, the winning way, T at blessed our 11 1'0-patiJ day by day ? Where fled those accents soft and low. That thrlllod our hearts M one year ago 7” Ah. vacant is the fireside chair: (fa Tho smile that won, no longer there; > From door and hall, and porch and lawn,lt The echo of the voice is gone; \ •And wo who linger only Know How much wus lost "one your ago.” Reside her grave tlio marble white Keeps silent guard by day and night: Serene she sleeps, nor heeds tho trend Of loot'tops o’er lier lowly bed; Her pulsi'lesHbroast may know The pangs of life " ono year ago.” But why repine ? A few more years, A few more broken sighs uud tears, And we, enlisted with the dead, Shall Jollow w ere hor slops havo led; To tlmU’ur world rololclnggo To which Him passed ** one year ago.” PtaWM}. Adjun’s Fall. A favorite temperauee lecturer down South used to relate the following anec dote to illustrate the influence of a bad example in the formation of habits ruin ous iii their efl'ect: Adam and Mary, his wife, were very good members of the church ; good sort of folks any way, quite Industrious and thriving in the world. Whenever the minister called to make Mary a visit, which was often, she con trived to have a glass of good toddy made, and the minister never refused to imbibe. After awhile Adam got to following the example of the minister to such an extent that he became a drunkard drunk up everything he had and all he could get. Mary and Adam became very poor in consequence of his follow ing the minister’s example so closely, but tiie good minister continued still to get his glass of toddy. One day ed in aud told Mary lie was going Way for a week —should return on Friday— and handed her a book contaiuiug-the catechism, and told her \C6ei^ he_re turned he should tt>—answer* the questions. and laid away the book carefully. like a good many others, fjfißst J&3JBWI | the very Friday that tiij gcJlck Jniniateni was to return. " Wha? shall I dor’ said she ; “ the minister is to here* to-day, and I haven’tlooked he gave me! How can \ answer the questions ?” “ 1 can tell you," said Adam; “ give me a quarter, ami let me go over to Smith’s and get s<sme good rum, and you can answer him witli a glass of toddy." Mary took the advice, gave Adam a quarter and a fug, and oIF he started. After getting his jug filled, and on his way back, Adam concluded to taste the rum. One taste followed another, until he tumbled over a pile of rocks and broke the jugand Install the rum. Adam managed to stagger home. Soon as he got into the house Mary asked very anxiously for the rum. Poor Adam managed to stammer out that he stumbled over a pile of rocks, and broke the jug, and spilled the rum. ''Mary was iua fix—Adam drunk—the minister coming—the rum gone—and the questions unlearned. But here comes Uie minister! It won’t do for the man of <»od to see Adam drunk, so she for want of a better place to hide him put him under the bed. By the time he was fairly under, in came the minister. After sitting a few moments, he asked Mary if she could answer the question, “ How did Adam fall?” Mary turned her head first one way, and then the other, and finally stam mered out: “ He fell over a pile of rocks.” It was now the minister’s turn to look blank, but be ventured another ques tion. “Where did he hide himself after the fall?” .-'■'lSlar}' looked at the minister, then at the bed, but finally she spoke out with : “ Under the bed, sir! There, Adam, you may come out; lie knows all about it.” The good minister retired—not even waiting for his glass of toddy. A Talc of Chivalry. In the early part of the reign of Henry the Second, of France, a famous combat was fought between two gentlemen of the court named Chataignerie and Jar nac. Some words of the latter were construed by the former to reflect upon his step-mother, and he afterwards re peated them at court. When Jarnac heard of the calumny that was abroad he came before Francis I, and declared that whoever had given birth to such a report " lied to the throat.” A chal lenge immediately passed between them, but F rancis forbade the combat. No sooner did Henry 11. succeed to the throne than Jarnac renewed his chal lenge. The king assented. Both champ ions having sworn to the justice of their quarrel, the king gave the signal and the combat began, Tlie contestants were armed in proof, and battled on foot with sword and buckler. It was a goodly sight to see how the sparks flew from their swords and helmets, with what care they, foyned, and how skillfully they availed themselves of every unguarded open ing. Now they traversed hither and thither with short, quick steps, striking, thrusting, warding, as they alternately pressed forward and receded ; Was Jarnac beaten back by the overbearing force of his enemy. Covering himself with his buckler, ho retired before the increasing violence of his adver sary and cautiously watched for an opportunity which might be afforded by the other’s fierce haste.— At length by a lucky stroke, he dealt C. a fearful blow upon the leg, and completely disabled him. Hd fell to the ground, and Jarnac standing over him with his sword pointed at his throat required him to confess the calumnies he had uttered. This tile woundedman refused to do, and therefore his life be came justly forfeited to the conqueror, who, however, generously placed it in the hands of the king. The proud and haughty Chataignerie, mortified by his defeat, refused to be spaced, and on his Wounds being Pressed, he tore off the bandages, and died from the effusion ol blood. Such was the combat fought be tween two squires in 1547. An eccentric clergyman, lately al luding in his pulpit to the subject of family government, remarked that it is often said, “ There is no such thing now-a-days as family government.” “But it’s false,” said he, “all false! There is just as muoh family govern ment now as there ever was—just as much as in the days of our fathers and grand-fathers. The only difference that’ then the old folks did the govern “jig, now it is done by theyoungones!” VOLUME 67. Blander. I have known a country society which withered away all to nothing under the'dry rot of gossip only. Friendships once as granite dissolved to jelly and then ran to water, only because of this; love that promised a future as enduring as heaven and as stable as truth, evap orated into morning mist that turned to a day’s long tears, only because of this; a father and Bon were set foot to foot with the fiery breath of anger that would never cool again between them, only because of this ; and a husband and his young wife, each straining at the hated lash which in the beginning had been the golden bondage of a God-blessed love, sat mournfully by the side of the grave where all their Joy lay burled, also because of this. I have seen faith transformed to mean doubt, hope give place to grim despair, and charity take on Itself the features of black malevo lence, all because of the spell words of scandal, and the magic mutterlngs of gossip.. Great crimes work greatwrongs, and the deeper tragedies of human life spring from Its larger passions; but woful and most melancholy are the un catalogued tragedies that issue from gossip and detraction; most mournful the shipwreck made of noble natures and lovely life by the bitter winds and dead salt waters of scandal. So easy to say, yet so hard to disprove—throwing on the innocent all the burden and the strain of demonstrating their innocence and punishing them as guilty if unable to pluck out the stings they never see, and to silence words they never hear— gossip and slander are the deadliest and cruelest weapons man has forged for his brother’s hurt. A Flower Story. We are told that the Duke ofTuscany was the first possessor of a'pretty shrub of jasmine, wS»so jealglisly fear ful lest othewshould enjoy what he alone wished to posHeaa, in juapUgns Were gi.ven to hle».gardeuer notTP gsve a slip, not so much as a single flower, ■Cbttny terson: To this command the would have been faithful halJnoHove wounded him by the spark llngeyeß of a fair but portionless peasant -wjrosfVwant of dowry and his own -alone kept them from the -hjrmenTal altar. On the birthday of his "mistress hepresented her with a nosegay ..and to render it more acceptable, orna jasmine. The poorgirl, fishing to preserve the bloom of this new flower, put it into the earth, and the branch remained green all the year. In the following spring it grew and was covered with flowers. It flourished and and multiplied so under the fair nymphs cultivation that she was able to amass a little fortune from the sale, of the pre cious gift which love had made her, when with a sprig of jasmine in her breast, she gave her hand and wealth to the happy gardener of her heart. And the Tuscan girls to th is time preserve the remembrance of this day by wearing a nosegay of jasmine on their wedding day ; and they have a proverb, which says a young girl wearing this nosegay is rich enough to make the fortune of a poor husband. The Beauty of Old People. Men and women make their own I beauty or their own ugliness. Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton speaks in one of his. novels of a man “ who was uglier than he had any business to be ;” and, if he could but read it, every human being carries his life in his face, and is good looking or the reverse as that life has been good or evil. On our features the fine chisel of thought and emotion are eternally at work. Beauty is not the monopoly of blooming young men and of white and pink maidß. There is a slow-growing beauty which only comes to perfection in old age. Grace belongs to no period of life, and goodness improves the longer it exists. I have seen sweeter smiles on a lip of seventy than I ever saw on a lip of seventeen. There is the beauty of youth, and there is also the beauty of holiness—a beauty much more seldom met; and more frequently foundiu thearm-chair by the fire, with grandchildren around its knee, than in the ball-room or the promenade. Husband and wife who have fought the world side by side ; who have made common stock of joy and sorrow, and aged together, are not unfrequently found curiously alike in personal ap pearance and in pitch and tone of voice —just as twin pebbles on the beach ex posed to the same tidal influences, are each other’s alter ego. He has gained a feminine something which brings his manhood into full relief. She has gain ed a masculine something which acts as a foil to her womanhood. Oysters in CoquUles. The Professor instructed the class in the art of preparing oysters in a most delicious manner, to be eaten out of the Bhell. To a pint of oysters add half a gill of water, boil up once and pour them in.acalander. To the broth which passes through the calander two table spoonsful of flour and not quite so much of butter; seasou to taste; let it remain on thefirea moment, then add two eggs, and stir constantly to prevent burning until it boils, then "pour in the oysters; give them one more boil and set away to cool. The shells in the meantimehavebeen cleans ed until they are a 9 white as possible. When the oysters are cool fill each shell with an oyster and as much of the soup as it will hold, and sprinkle with a spar ing hand fine bread crumbs over the top. A small piece of butter is then placed on the top of each shell of the oysters, and they are set in the oven to bake for or fifteen minutes. Let them go di rectly from the oven to the table. Rupture Between Jefferson and John Randolph. Randolph being asked to play chess on one occasion, refused, and gave the following reason : “ I have not played at oheßs for the last seventeen years ; the very sight of the board and men gives rise to painful reminiscences, for the last game I played lost me a personal friend forever. I was on the most inti mate terms with Mr. Jefferson, as you may have heard, it being now a matter of history, and as I soon found out that, politician and philosopher as he was, he took more pride in his skill atchess than .in anything else. Very few could beat him, and at last he could not endure defeat. Knowing this, and feeling I was his match, I had always declined playing, as I did not want to quarrel with him, until one unfortunate evening when he touched my Virginia pride in so pointed a way that I could no longer refuse with honor, and we sat down the game. It was a warm contest. 'Greek met Greek. I at length cried 1 checkmateand he never forgave me afterwards.” Butter is falling in Maine. Grease the track and keep it sliding. SsiijreUa«eo»s. Tbe Poisoned Flower. An. Incident In tne Life of Ono of tlie Early Hinge of France. There are various traditions as to the origin of the Golden Lily upon the shield of France. Among these is the following incident, said to have occur red in the latter part of the eleventh century, during the reign of Philip Augustus : The Prince was only fifteen when he ascended the throne ; but the strong hand with which he seized the relnß of Government, awing theturbulent nobles and protecting tne common people against their aggressions,Boon convinced them that he was not to be despised for hit youth. Though hy this course lie greatly en deared himself to the massofhlssubjeots, his life was more thau once threatened, and eveu attempted; but these plots in variably originated among the haughty nobles, who became restive under the restraints imposed upon them by the Klng’B strong arm, and his just and kindly heart. In the summer of the eleventh year of his reign, weary of the cares of state, Philip retired with his court to his royal residence at Chaumont, which was a favorite resort to him. Among his train was Geoffrey, Count de Neville, the natural son of Louis VII., the King’s half-brother. He was a mild and inoffensive man, apparently well contented with the title and estate conferred hy the late King upon his mother, and which he had inherited upon her death, but, unfortunately he married a haughty, ambitious woman, who was but illy inclined to forego her claims to royalty. At the death of Louis, she openly as serted that there had been a secret mar riage between him and the late Countess de Neville, and upon the head of her son should rest the crown of France, he being the eldest born, urged her hus band to assert his claims. But this the Count refused to do, being ill-fitted by nature to act a part requiring more than usual energy and ability, besides enter taining too strong an affection for the young King, who had treated him with unusual kindness, to seek to deprive him of his rightful inheritance. If Philip heard of the pretensions which the Countess set forth, he mani fested no outward token of displeasure or distrust. On the contrary, lie gave his brother many evidences of regard, appointing him to honorary offices near his person, although lie.took care that they were such that they conferred but little power. This was a new source of grievance to the haughty Countess, who never relin quished tlie idea of becoming a Queen, and had fondly imagined that, on ac count of Philip’s youth, his brother would obtain such a strong ascendency over his mind, as would make him King in reality, if not in name. - This disappointment was felt with in creased she became the mother of a son, in whom she centered all her ambitious hopes, and all the love she was capable of feeling for any one. Unlike our modern fine ladies, the dames of high degree of that remote pe riod, were early risers ; and the Coun tess de Neville often took long rides on horseback before the dew was off the grass, unattended, except by her groom who kept arespectful distance,just near enough to be within call, should his la dy require assistance. One morning, she paused in frontofa little cottage, situated in a perfect wil derness of bloom. As an involuntary ejaculation of surprise and admiration escaped her lips, a pretty intelligent looking girl raised her bright eyes from the rosebush she was pruning. “I have some handsomer within, ar ranged in boquets,” she said smiling, “if madams would like to examine them.” Throwing the reins of her horse to her attendant, the Countess alighted much to the surprise of the servitor, who had never known his haughty mistress to be guilty of so much condescension before. As the Countess entered the little, low room, the pretty flower girl displayed her beautiful collection of boquets with pardonable pride “All or any of them are at your ser vice, with the exception of this,” she said, pointing to one composed of golden lilies and white roses, andrelievedby a fewleavesof green; “Itisfor the King.” “So King Philip buys the flowers, pretty maiden?” “Yes, madame; I have orders to bring them to the palace daily. The golden lilly is his favorite flower, and there are only those in bloom to-day.” “ I will take this,” said the Countess, selecting one of the boquets, and taking from her purse a gold piece of more than double the value, “but first bring me a cool draught of water from the spring yonder.” With a light step the young girl took a pitcher and passed out to the spring that was but a short distance from the door. As she glided by the window on returning, she glanced in and saw, much to her surprise, her visitor bend ing over the stand of flowers, and ap parently sprinkling something - from her hand u|3on those she had laid aside for the King. When she took it away, her eye caught a gleam of a small gold en flask, such as the ladiesof that period used for their cosmetics and perfumery. But when she ente.‘?d the room,- she found her in the same position in which she had left her. She could not forbearan exclamation of surprise as she observed how deadly pale was her countenance. “’Tis but the odor of the flowerß,” said the Countess, as drawingher robes around her she turned to the door. “ Take my advice, my good girl; place the stand nearer the window, and be not much over them ; their perfume is quite too strong for so small a room.” There was something about these words carelessly spoken though they were, that deepened the undefined sus picions in the young girl’s heart; and, following her suggestion, she placed the stand of flowers directly in front of the open window. Then, by a close exami nation of the boquet destiued for the King, she detected the presence of a fine white powder, impalpable to the eye upon the white petals of the rose, but clearly visibleupon the lilies, whose peculiar shape, by exposing the leaves to the full rays of the sun as well as their vivid coloring, threw it into strong* relief; and as she bent over them, the faint but penetrating odor that arose made her so giddy that she would have fallen, had it not been for the tall shape ly youth who had just entered, and whose livery showed him to he in the service of the King. It was her lover, Francois, King Philip’s body servant, and who, passing by the house, called to have a chat with his betrothed. “ How,now,Marie?” he said, looking into her face. “What has frightened the roses from your cheek, and given you such strange look ?” The honest hearted fellow was sin cerely attached to his royal master, and he listened gravely to Marie’s account of the strange conduct of her visitor, and the suspicions to which it gave rise. “It has a bad he said, thought fully; “though I believe thereisnothing in it. By good luck, I have orders to attend his majesty in his private apart ments an hour hence. I will put him on his guard: then surely no harm can come of it.” Somewhat to the surprise of Francois, the King manifested no disquietude at this disclosure, though the grave look and attentive manner with which he listened, Bhowed that he considered it of no light import. He bade him charge Marie “ To tell no one what she had discov ered, but to come to the palace with her flowers an hour earlier than washer wont, by no means forgeting her golden 111168.” King Philip sat in his audience hall, surrounded his by retinue. A number of the royal family Btood near him—among them the Count Neville, his wife ana the little son, a boy of three, whofie LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, MARCH: 21, 1866. wihning and' Sprightly ways made' him a favorite with the King. ‘ ‘Andplease your: Mwesty, .Marie, the flower girl is awaiting without,” said one of the guard. 1 ■ " Admit ner,” said the King. Marie' had never seen King Philip In his robes of state, and the royal pomp that surrounded him impressed her with a feeling of awe as she entered. Hut this wasquleklydlssipated by the King's gracious manner, as he bade her ap proach. “ I see you have not forgotten my favorite flower,” he said, taking the basket from her hand. 11 Just admire these queenly lilies, fair Countess, and inhale the fragrance ft-om the roses.” 1 But why do you start,and turn pale?” he added, as with an Involuntary shud der she drew back from the flowers he would have placed In her hand. “ I—l crave your Majesty’s' pardon,” she stammered, " but the odor of the roses affects me thus.” The King’s eyes followed the Count ess as she retreated to the window, at the further end of the hall, under the pretext of obtaining air. He thenfixed them searohlngly <?n her husband's face, whose mind seemed to be entirely oc cupied by the laughing boy he held in his arms. Attracted by tbe bright color of the lilies, the child Btretohed out its hand for them. A sudden thought struck tbe King as he observed this. “See how eagerly Louis is regarding them!” he said, turning to the Count. “ Let him have them.” With a fond smile the father took the flowers and held them before the boy, who, catching them with both his dimp led hands, raised them with a gleeful shout to his lips. Instantly, a deadly palor overspread his face, a faint gasp he fell dead in his .father’s aims! TheCountcss had kept afurtive watch on the King's movements from her re treat, and forgetting everything in her terror sprang forward to arrest her hus band’s arm. “ Monster!” slie exclaimed, glaring upon him like a tigress robbed of her young, “you havedestroyed yourchild!” “And' you,”-said Philip, pointing significantly to the flowers, still clasped in the child's rigid fingers, “ you would have murdered your King!” “Is ttiis tlie woman that called at yourcottage this morning,” heinquired, turning to Marie. “ The same, your Majesty.” As soon as the Count comprehended the full meaning of these words, lie cast a look of horror and detestation upon his wife, then taking his dead boy, he laid him on the pileof cushions at the King's feet. “ I can lay before you no stronger proof, sire,” he faltered, “ that I was ignorant of the existence of this base plot against your life.” As Philip looked upon the still, sweet features of tlie child, and then upon his father, his eyes softened. “ You are right. God knows that I would fain have spared your loyalty such a severe teßt.” “ I wish you all to bear witness,” lie said, addressing those around him, him, 11 that I fully exonerate Count de Neville from all complicity with liis wife in this attempt upon the life of your King.” “As to you,” he added, turning to tlie guilty woman, “I give you twenty days to leave the kingdom. Ifafterthat time you are found in my domains, you shall suffer the full penalty of your crime.” King Philip did not forget the debt of gratitude lie owed to Marie and his faithful attendant. He was present at the marriage, which occurred a few days after, bestowing a dowry on the bride, and other substantial marks of favor; and ever afterwards, in commem oration of his Providential deliverance, he bore upon his shield the “Golden Lily.” - The Country Church. We ,elip the following tit bit of senti ment from the Lockport Daily Union. It brings olden memories back : “ We have been to the country church that was old when we were young. It is neither costly nor grand, but rude and homely, with moss growing about the eaves, where a pair of swallows built their nests in the summer that is dead. There are nolofty marble pillars near the porch, nor tesselateddoors, nor has it skillful architecture : but there it stands, a plain old building, a hallowed relic of other days. It has no gallery, where the hired musicians let fall the liquid tones of sound, Nor deep-toned organ blown, nor eensei swung, - Nor dim light streaming through pictured paDe. - ’ But still we like the old church. It brings hack to us the daisied slopes of childhood, the joyous anticipations of the future, the golden gleams of glad ness that hover around the steps of youth. We hear echoing through mem ory's corridor the holy words falling from the pale-hrowed man whose guile less teachings sank deep into our heart. We have listened since then to (he ser mons of the great,rhetorically rounded, and brilliant metaphors, and poetic im agery, and flights of fancy ; but their high-toned beauty has failed to touch our hearts as did the simple eloquence of the minister in the old church. There, too, is the graveyard where sleep in dust the ashes of those who were so dear to us in life, and whose memories come to us with the rise of sun, and the pale light of stars. There rest the companions of our schoolboy days, and our youthful sports. And there, too, she lies who roamed hand in hand with us about the valley, who plucked with us the wild flowers beside the brook, who saw with the apprecia tive eye the violets blooming on the robe of May, and wept with us.happy tears at the glory and gorgeousness of summer sunsets. For eleven years she has listened to the harp notes of the angels. Still we love to linger beside her grave near the old church, and fancy that the mild breathing of the evening air is caused by the soft rustling of an angel’s wings. Ho not blame us for lov ing the old church, for memories are ours, pure and holy as the dreams of a dying saint, when we sit in the shadow of its walls.” The Expectants. Who shall tell the hopes aDd fears that are stitched into little frocks for the form not yet seen ? All the world over, the quiet, thoughtful brow of expectant womanhood bends over them silently. Sometimes a glad smile lingers on the lips ; sometimes the busy hands lie idly folded over the soft cambric folds, as memory carries them back to their own childhood; j ÜBt so their mother sat, with just such thoughts busy at heart and brain, before they were nestled in a mother’s welcoming arms. Ah ! never till now did they ever fully realize what a mother’s love may be. Never till now did they retrace the steps of childhood, girlhood and maturity, so carefully, to note all the Christ-like patience and tenderness to which those longyears hear witness. Then solemnly comes the thought; “ Jußt as I looked up to my mother, thiß little one will look up tome. Me! Warm tears fall fast on the little frock that lies on the lap. Me ! Ah ! how do I know that I shall teqeh it aright ?” and with the happy love-tbrili is mingled a responsi bility, so overwhelming that it can not be borne alone. Nor, thank God, need it be, nor is it. Ah! whatsoever fathers may think, mothers must needslook up ward. The girl-mother, from that sweet, sacred moment, will rise, if ever, disenthralled from her past frivolity, and with the earnest seal of a new baptism on her brow.— Fanny Fern. A Peculiar People. There is a peculiar people at Walling ford, Connecticut, who style themselves Communjsts. They Ignore rum, tobacco, tea, coffee, pork, swearing, quarreling, wrangling, gossiping, backbiting; lying, cheating and defrauding—all of which, is well, so far as it goes. Unlike the •Mormons they have but one “ affinity” at the same time, with■ whotn they live so long as they both can agree—when they are “ divorced,” not by adeereeof the, .courts, but by mutual consent.— Bolton Herald. ' ‘ DlicoTery of the, Supposed Murderer of , "V the, Joyce Children.. The cine*, and How the Case was rol- lowed np, t . v Condensed from tbe Boston Advertiser, Mar. 9. The mystery which has so long shrouded the tragedy which occurred in West Roxbuiy in June last, involv ing the brutal murder of Isabella N. and John 8. Joyce, only children of a widow lady residing In Lynn, seems about to be fully unraveled. For three mouths a person supposed to'be guilty of the heinous crime has been under surveillance of the officers of the law, and it now appears almost indubitably certain that the criminal has been dis covered in a convict who is now,.and has for some time been, incarcerated In the Massachusetts State Prison, under conviction of an offense of much less magnitude than that for which he lias thus far eluded punishment. Before proceeding to the exciting narrative of the development brought out by the vigilant officers who have been so long at work to bring the miscreant to jus tice, it may be well to give a brief his tory of the trugedy wbloh presents fea tures of such unparalleled atrocity. BRIEF HISTORY OK THE -MUHDEK, Tbe two youthful victims, Isabella, a beautiful girl of but fourteen years of age, although almost a woman grown, and her brother John, some few years younger than herself, and a great favor ite with all who knew him, had been spending a week with their aunt, who resides at tbe South End. During the early portion of Monday, the lath of June, the two children left the house of their aunt for a day’s frolic in May's Woods, a delightful retreat in West Roxtiury, taking with them only asmail amount of change with which to pay their horse-car fare, and a basket of lunch, as it was their intention not to return home until near nightfall. Before taking the cars the children called at the house of their grandmother, where they were last seen. When the sun had set on that Monday the two wanderers had not returned. Much anxiety was felt for their safety, and a vigorous but fruitless search was made for them- All night long, relatives, friends and neighbors kept up tbe search. Mes sengers were sent to scour tbe woods and tlie highways in tbe vicinity, but 10 trace of the lost ones could be found It was not until Sunday forenoon, ul most a week from the time that the children bad left on their holiday ex cursion, that some gentlemen strolling in a tract of woods known as "Buzzey’s Woods,” discovered the body of the young girl stabbed in several places.— There was every indication of a most terrific struggle between the girl and the person who murdered her, her hands and arms being cut in several plaees, as if she had grasped the knife or other sharp instrument by which her life had been taken. Her mouth was found filled with grass, probably to pre vent her outcries. The body of the hoy was not discovered until about an hour after that of his sister had beeiQfouud. In a thicket, lying upon his face, liis body horribly gushed in several plaees, the poor boy was discovered by a party of lads who had joined in thesearch for the brother, after it had beenannounced thatthesister had been found.' Appear ances indicated that the lad had fled in dismay! had stumbled headlong into the bushes, had been overtaken by his heartless, brutal pursuer, and had been cut and gashed to death. Nea’-.the body of tlie girl were found some un finished wreaths of forest leaves from which it was Inferred that the children had been engaged twining wreaths of oak leaves, and constructing mounds of moss, when the brute appeared belore them, and the fiendish attack was made. Thegirl’s hat, lying on the ground near by, was tastefully trimmed with an oak-leaved wreath, and the boy’s cap, found subsequently, was also similarly adorned. Of course the discqvery of this double murder occasioned the most intense excitement in the immediate vicinitv, and in the city and State as well. Every person considered him self a self-appointed detective, and no effort was spared to .find out the perpe trator of the atrocious crime. Several persons were arrested, but as nothing could he proved against were discharged. Full and as complete tes timony as could he obtained was taken before a coroner’s jury, but no clue could be found to tbe murderer. SUBSEQUENT HISTORY OF THE CASE. On theafternoon of Saturday, the fifth day of August last, Mr. Marshall Wetb erbee, flf Ashburnham, adeputy sheriff of Worcester county, was informed that the house of a Mr. Brown, of the town of Gardner, had been entered thatmorn ing,,and robbed of a silver watch, and several otherartieles of less value. Sher iff Wetherbee at once started in pursuit of the thief, tracked him successfully, and arrested him near Bast Wilton, New Hampshire, at about noon of Sun day, the following day. The culprit refused to give any other name than “ Scratch Gravel,-/ say ing that his pa rents were too poor to give him any bet ter. Although well armed, he offered no resistance to arrest, saying substan tially to the sheriff—who was without arms of any kind—“l don’t care a d —n for being arrested for stealing a silver watch; but I lrave clone something which it would be a featherin yOurcap to fasten on me. I had rather go to prison for two or three months than to be traveling about the country as I have been.’’ Before placinghis prison er in jail, Mr. Wetherbee took him to his house and provided him with ' supper. After supper, “ Scratch Gravel,” as we must call nun in the main part of this narrative, sang with the little children of the sheriff’s family, and entered into conversation with thesherilf’s wife. Mrs. Wetherbee endeavored to draw his attention to spiritual matters, aud to make some moral impression upon him. For this purpose she offered him a Testament, with the request that he would read it. “ Scratch Gravel” refused to read it, saying he was too wicked ; that he hail done that since he had been in Massa chusetts for which neither God norman would forgive him. Mr. Wetherbee took his prisoner totbejailatFitchburg, and at the August term of the Superior Court, before Judge Allen, he was con victed on the charge of robbery, and sentenced to be confined three years in the State Prison, to which he was taken on the 2otli day of August. From the time of the first com mitment of “ Scratch Gravel,” Sheriff Wetherbee entertained suspicion that he was guilty of the crime with which he is charged. Hisconduot while in jail at Fitchburg tended to confirm these suspicions. He entered into aconspi racy with the other prisoners to kill the turnkey, but during which he used ex pressions to his accomplices about “the Roxbury job,” and made other state ments which seemed to strengthen the suspicion that he was the murderer. While he was in prison the detectives took means to get further confessions from him, by putting a false convict in the prison, who gained his confidence, and to whom he made statements going still further to strengthen suspi cion against him. He was thfen put in closer confinement. In, reply to ques tions, the prisoner stated that he had' never been in Massachusetts, and knew no one here; that he was in New York State all of last May, and in,Connec ticut during the latter part Where he was the first part of that month he refused to tell ; and whtfa pressed upon that point he said, “What has that,to do with my being, in: 'this prison 1 I know what your are driving at I” The warden saying,to, him that his question wHsaprdperone, '’Scratch” replied, “ I know 1 Whatyouwant. You think I murdered the Roxbury chil dren.” The warden told him he wa* suspected qf, that primp, and. that, it wopld 'tie for his own interest'to show where he was during the first pan of June. He alßo told the prisoner that he was friendly to-him, and would spend $lOO la enabling him to collect the evi dence of his whereabouts during the period which he had not accounted for. The, prisoner cast lils'eyea upon the floor and; began to tremble violently, mani f&tlng.the most extremeagitatk>n,.ahid tolled,'ln a confused' manner or hla Whereabouts at ' 811:, tlmps!' excewthei fatal first part of June.' 1 . ‘ On. Wednesday afternoon,. Sheriff Kimball of Fltohburg, had an interview with the prisoner, who then admitted mhcU which he had In the forenoon denied to the warden, but was still si lentas to where he was during tbe inter val; which it conoerned him so deeply to be accounted for. Yesterday morn ing, having had a night’s reflection, the prisoner sent (br the warden, and said he'was ready 1 6 tell him where he was during: the whole of June. He then proceeded to.etate that he waa in Hew York State all that month, but on being askdd to give precise localities, he again became confused, naming one town whluh, the officers have not yet been able toflndinanygazetteer,and speaking of another locality as fifteen miles dis tant from another town unknown to the officers. The remainder of tbff mouth he accounted for by stating that he was in the woods and upon the roads. The steps which nave been taken to identify the prisoner as connected with the crime have revealed facts which hear as strongly against him as his own dec larations. The World of Fashion. node* for Spring—Newest Thing* About Dresses; Hasqnca, and Bonnets—The Vernal Openings or the Modistes. Ac. The fashion-makers are not less prompt than the seasons. The first day of spring brought the first opening of styles for the new year; audit was of course an event of great interest among the ladies, who were invited to witness the display. It was not, perhaps,thought so important an occasion in certain cir cles as the 7th Regiment ball, or the Leiderkranz, or the Grant reception, and will not be remembered so long ; but nobody can over-estimate the ex tent of the commotion that may be pro duced by the new styles when they are ouee established. The new designs were exhibited by Madame Demorest in Broadway; and her rooms were crowded during the day. The air was so mild, and the weather in all respects so pleasant, that the ladles come in unexpectedly large numbers, and they were evidently pleased with what they saw. The styles of articles of apparel were numerous; and there was, iu particular, a great variety of the uew double and gored dresses; something to suit the admirer of the plain and neat, or of the elegant and elaborate. LADIES' DRESSES. A pretty style of dress was of alpaca. The skirt was gored and trimmed with quillings or lavender in the form of a tunic. On the back breadth—from seam to seam —were four deep scallops, the lower ope teu inches'from tlie edge of the skirt. From the back to the front there was-a scollop on each breath, the quilling running up the seams so that each seam was covered, and thescollops were so graduated as to bring the one iu tront fifteen inches from the bottom. The plain, pointed waist was trimmed to match the skirt; and there was acoat sleeve having a fall of lace, headed with quilling on the shoulder, and opening at the hand with a puff of lace and quil ling. A tasteful style of mourning dress was made of buff and trimmed with blue. On the front pieces were set, so as to give the appearance of being left open and turned back, and of com ing together at the waist. This was trimmed around with blue velvet aud a row of blue buttons, and in the centre of the front were three rows of buttons. Around the bottom of the skirt were three rows of blue velvet. The waist was plain, with two points, aud was buttoned ; the dress turned back at the neck to match the skirt, and to be worn with a chemisette. The sleeve had caps, made in the same style, at tbe shoulder aud I&ad. A handsome black silk robe was cut in very small gores, which had folds like those of a fan, around the skirt. The seams served as a base for the buttons, which covered the seams. The buttons were of black silk, with small gold se quins hanging from the centre. The “Crystal” tunic was of green silk, over a dress of green poplin. The tunic was composed of a skirt and a lit tle bodice, cut in one piece and open at the shoulder and at the sides. The grey body was cut square, and the grey skirt long, and bordered with green silk. The tunic was trimmed u'ith ruching of its own material. The Madeline gored dress was a beau tiful garment, of very pale buff goat’s hair cloth, trimmed with blue velvet. A uovel feature was its long coat-tails, with imitation pockets. Smaller pock ets were also in front. The skirt was gored and had a long trail. The Adelaide dress is also pretty. It is partially gored, with an upper skirt also gored, aud cutdeepat the back, and open half its length at the sides, and in front. The entire dress is composed of two shades of green satin. The under skirt of dark green is trimmed with a baud of the lighter shade, ornamented with silver buttons. The upper skirt, of lighter green, is trimmed witli a band of the dark satin and studded with silver buttons. The waist, of light green satin, has a short basque, and is trimmed and and belted with the darker shade, with buttons to match. BASQUES. ,g Ladies find basques so convenient that they cannot very well do without .them. A pretty spring style is made of black silk, cut in point, front and back, with a material of a contrasting color inserted. Thjs is crossed by nar row velvet, fastened to the points with silk or silver buttons. The color may be blue, green violet, or cerise, but should match the trimming on the dress. The sleeve has a cap, and an insertion at the handtocorrespoud with the basque. The front is ala rnililairc. MISSES’ PRESSES. A very pretty dress for misses was made of lavender and trimmed wiLh green. The skirt was gored witha box- Elaited ruffle, headed with greeiu on the ottom. The same style of ruffle is so arranged upon as to representa basqui ue, though thegreen runs up in front. This gives tne dress the appearance of two garments. It is usually voted by the ladies that deception, when it is econo my, is allowable. The neck is trimmed with green ribbon, to represent a point ed collar. The buttons are green. The straight cbat-sleeve is going out of favor: and those on exhibition were generally somewhat full. Some were sloped from the elbow with large puffs. JACKETS. The sleeveless jackets, In all colors and beautifully embroidered, attracted much attention. They are made to be worn over a white waist. One, a lav ender silk, with trimming of the same material or color, and of green velvet, embroidered with beds, was particular ly admired. The combination of laven der and green is unusual, but very ef fective, each looking richer for the blending. The sleeveless jackets were embroidered frqm entirely new designs. A lady, of a well-known family, who was thrown on her own resources, not only devised the patterns, but embroi dered them. BONNETS. It js too, early ,1a the seasonto judge very'definitely, of bonnets, or'to say what Bhape or styre will be the favorite. It.will not be difficult to make a prettier style; than the Empire, which, though ; lthaa beengenerally worn, has found ad mirers; Thqre is already a considerable change, and more than the usual variety of sHapeis. The' gipsy shape iahew, and, for the’ present, popular. The bonnets are still, so small that ladies are com- pelled to dress their hair elaborately. _ THEHAIB.. Not long since curls' were so much worn thhtlt led to the invention of the hair-curler, which, being .heated with boiling water, does not dry or burn the hair.. Crimps, ,or, frizzes, are fashiona ble now. however, and ladles who have had their bait ''done up” fn pins Or papersaU nlght, and have found that there was no soft- spot, even upon a downy pillow, will be glad to, hear that a hw-crimpar.has also been invented. It is .heated with. JtkdHng water, and will' crimp nearly one-half the head at once f and ln a few minutes, and wlth oUtlnjuring ft.—W. Y. Evening Post. • .i-tif i ' mi)k Is the only article 'that has not risen of late. NUMBER 11. Horrible Revelations. The Sound Table of last week has an article calculated to create a great sen sation in fashionable circles, as it lays bare what is well calculated to shock the modesty of most beholders. It is on the subject of “ artificial or false calves,” manufactured by corset-makers and sold by corset dealers. We present a specimen of the Sound Table's dis closures : By calves we mean Just what the an atomists mean when they speak of the lower extremities. We do ,not know whose ingenuity devlsed*?<them, nor when they were first Introduced, nor indeed their method of construction. But that they were a popular article of apparel with young ladies, and especi ally with those who mode a dashing display on skates, we have abundant reason to believe. In fact, several of the prominent corset-makers devoted all their energies to the fabrication of these rare bits of fashionubleauutomy: and. notwithstanding the very rapid prdductlon, tho supply fell short of the demand. Of course a good deal of care was taken lest any prying masculine eyes should pen etrate the mystery, and give publle ity,to the newly created market; for this would have had a very injurious effect upon the sale of the article, and the tan talizing delusion would have been far less pleasing. But the fact of its exist ence was soon and easily transmitted liy a sort of maidenly legerdemain, and all who were desirous of muking sensations by marvelous perfection of form, knew very well where to supply their sweet selves with patent calves. This may be an announcement alto gether unwelcome to those ambitious young gentlemen who, at street corners, from club windows, and In the bewil dering maze of the skating “carnival,” have felt their hearts throb with the delicious titillations of delightat specta cles which kindly art has quite willing ly placed at their disposal. It can hard ly fail to be a disappointment to such to learn that for a very trilling consid eration they might have procured the abounding source of their happiness, and that, too, in a very portable and enduring shape,by a visit to almost any ladies’ furnishing store. And if discom fiture should chance to lead to rage, it may be that an inquiring spirit would discover yet other remarkable devices for lending enchantment still more alluring as concerns the “human form divine.” But if they are wise they will be satisfied with but one revelation, and will hereafter devote themselves to studies less deceptive and far more profitable. If, however, it is a satisfac tion to them to continue the investiga tion, horrible as the idea may seem, we should counsel an early visit to one of the very numerous stores consecrated to the anatomy of fash ion, which is nothing morenorless than the sculptureof cords, wires and cotton. It would doubtless be a matter of in terest to the innocent public to know who the ladies may be that patronize' these entrancing Utile toys which call forth the ogling glances of so many ad miringspectators. This isasecret which only the closet dealers and the ladies’ bureau can reveal. We learn, however, that they have been very popular with the so-called ” upper circles,” and it is their surprising success with this-class that has led to unusual mania for skating during the past season. The pondß have been thronged with young ladies as never before, and not until this writing has the mystery been fully re vealed. In fact, the rage of the season has been these adjustable calves, nor has the demand fallen off very materially with the passing away of tne skating season.- They are worn by the most fashionable, if not the most respectable, in the daily promenade and at the week ly social gathering, and, in fact, almost everywhere^Very nice young men stand behirimfcounters, all day long,and sell them to very nice young ladies in sizes to suit. Bo it makes little differ ence how cadaverous or ill-shaped one may be, even nature is outdone by de vicesof art. What with an in vestment or two in false hair, a false bust, plumpers in the cheeks, and the now thoroughly introduced patent calves, the awkward in shape and unattractive in general appearance may become really “ charm ing.” Who does not say that the world moves ? Had the bold mountaineer, who was familiar only with that class of women known as squaws, and who lately visit ed San Francisco, where he saw for the first time a fashionable belle , known of these new contrivances, he would have noticed, in giving his views, when he said: “Somewhars in every circumference of silk and velvet that wriggles along there is allers a woman, I suppose; bui how much of the holler is tilled iu with meat, and how much is gammon, the spectator dun no. A feller marrys a wife, and finds, when he eums to the plint, that he'bus mullin' in his arms but a regular anatomy. If meu is guy deseevers, what is to be said of the fe male who dresses for a hundred and forty weight, but has’nt reely got as much fat on her as would grease a grid dle; all tlie apparent plumpness consist ing of cotton and whalebone.” Bemarkable Case of Trance—A lady Rises from her Coffin. A lady, residing within sixteen miles of Raleigh, says the Progress , who has been in delicate health Bince she lost her husband in 1858, died last Friday (as was supposed), and her friends ill the neighborhood proceeded to take thesteps usual on such occasions. The coffin was ordered, the corpse shrouded and laid out, aud all needful preparations consummated for the funeral ceremonies last Kabbath Strange as at may appear it is said that, While the watchers in an adjoining room were indulging in hilar ity and hot coffee, a noise was heard in the apartment where the remains of the beloved departed reposed. Supposing a cat or rat was playing therein, a gentleman went to stop the revelry. On opening the door he was horrified to find the lady standing on the floor the very incarnation of per plexity. The. brave fellow hastily re treated. His demonstrations excited the rest of the party, and the whole crew, shrieking and trembling, deserted the house for a season. An elderly ne gress, more courageous than the others, went into the dwelling, ascertained the state of affairs, and, with Christian he roism, administered to the necessities of the dead-alive one. Search was then made for the retreat ers, wtio, being found at a neighbor’s, returned to the domicil they had so shamefully abandoned Hr. Beil, formerly of Greenville, South Carolina, who has attended the lady during the past six months, assures us that these are unvarnished filets, and present no hew truths to the medical profession. It is simply a case of trance or. suspended animation. The only re markable circumstance, perhaps, is the duration of the spell, though after her presumed decease the absence of that perfect ioyness which is peculiar to the dead was remarked by the physician as well as her friends. The lady is now able to sit up, and being in the last stages of consumption,! Is as well as she ever will be. She re members very little of the hours of her trance, but experienced an almost pain ful thirst in the first moment of return ing conscience. In a collection of war anecdotes, i is related that a certain soldier was singularly lucky insavinghislifein one of the'actions in which his regiment was engaged. The drums beating to arms before he had finished his dinner, he thrust a piece of bacon, too precious a morsel in such a precarious time to be wasted, into the breast pocket of his coat. After the battle was over he dis covered a bullet in his bacon, and ever afterwards, when thankfully recounting the tale of his miraculous escape, he used to say that he was doubly fortunate, for .that he “ not only saved his bacon, hut his bacon had saved him.” _ .... Bcsotm Aovxwn**K*»Te, fU * )'«r an BaAi>S(ZAia, nnaoxAi. F>onßsx,nnd. Gn mi AJTmTMurn, 7 oents rUnrm the flr*t,»ndA oentsfor tub nMnm' -tiOßi-I 1 c : •!;.ri: j»7ii ti nil/' it ■ 'ri .«£ Patare Uonm um other carer's hr ths column? '" ' m;> w«. miT” • ; wj r. n Oncoolmnn, 1 . > Half oolnmn, l *l Third oolnmn, I year,Ai:......i-... AO"" ftaart«roolonin ) '......'.'„...„.a..._...<—■#>'" BoßnnaaOAßhO.crtcnllnacoTleaii,. , year'” Qtuili, nve llnesor lea, one i liKOAii aito ornsß*NoTioiai-^T*‘**H > ■ . i Eicon ter*’ noticea.* I Administrator*’ notion* 2.00' * Assignees’ notloes, 1 zoo .. Andftors’ notices, i,so Other “Notices,'’ten lines, or less, three times,.— i. Brick Pomeroy's Second letter* to BUI Arp.'. Did you hear anything, ditto up this way? Something fell down! Theman at the other end of the avenue knapped a cap. BUI, just to see U the nipple was clear! That cap meanß business I It Is some ways to the other end of the ave* nue where the vultures huve gathered to feast upon the corpse so terribly man* gled, but the man at the other end of the avenue has a quick eye, a cool brain, a steady nerve and his gun Is ready ! Just you sit down behind a stump like, and keep cool. It 1b doggoned aggra vating to keep cool In a light, but yon must do it. Tho report of that cap whistled from Maiue to Minnesota, ana several millions of true sportsmen are ready to load for tho man at the other end of tho avenuo to Are, And tell your folka there to keep still —to plant tholr cotton, corn, rlco aud sugar cane. Give them good advice, Bill. Help them smooth down the hil locks, and level the sod over the graves where so many of your bruve hoyß and our bravo boys are Bleeping together. Build up the houses our boys pulled down, uud soon as we get our war duds oil' wu will help you Bill. You soo we are unhitching iheteum which runaway uud broke down your gule. Wo don't like tho team any butler than you did. Your gate post wus our gate post. The team was a bud one—the man at the other end of the avenue Is unhitching it. Tell your folks to be brave in peace us they were in war. The early winds of spring—the February and March winds are of more account than you dream of. They are blowing the dead leaves out of the forest. They are blow ing the dead ducks far out to sea! They are clearing away the debris—wheeling the little sticks hither and yon. Boll ing, Hying ami eddying, around the leaves ami twigs are leaving their late resting place, and it will not be long, Bill, before all this rubbish will be re moved aud the grass aud Ilowers will agaiu beautify the earth os before. And there shall be no more prowling—no more poachers. Tho man at the other eudof the avenue is not a olown, buffoon, a vulgar jester, a low wit, a boorish story teller. Ah ! no Bill! Ho is a very good man aud you will like him. We like him because he is just. The people like him because he is generous and statesmanlike. We have been having some little trouble up this way, Bill. Therevellere who lately sat iu our banquet hall were kitchen scullions, but they are going home soon. Aud when they have all gone, we shall have a very nice party there. Time is loosening the ice in the river. Some of us know how you folks have been used and we are telliugothers. Not long since when we told people that our people when lighting your peo ple were stealing themselves rich, they said we were disloyal und put us in prison. And they pulled down our printing otlices. , They threw our type into rivers. They mobbed us in our places of business. They shot at and wounded us on the street. 'They with held business from us. They sought to array the people of tho North against those who believed in toting fair. They did all these things In the name of God and the great moral party V But spring fashions ure now comingon,Bill, andin a little while you und I will meet some where and will be good friends, and yonr boys and our boys after a while will be loving the same girls and riding down the same lune together. it is hard to sit behind thestump, Bill, and see the light going on. It may be hard for your folks to work on their plantations, to rebuild their -cities and bleach out their mourning goods, while there Is a tremor of war yet on the air. Bill, but you can do it. And you will do it. Do you he true aud brave—we will answer for the rest. You have more witnesses iu the north, BUI, than you know of. There are skeletons in many families hereaway, aud there are skele tons some people would be dog. goned glad to get rid of—glad if they had never took them In. There are pianos, silver spoons, silver sugar howls, Hilver cream pitchers,silver sugar tougs, gold watches, beautiful paintings, valuable hooks, important documents, rings, breast pins, lockets, laces, silk goods, fast horses, marble top bureaus, rose wood furniture, guitars, photographs, keepsakes aud mementoes of gold and silver and other witnesses here from your district; witnesses in the convention against the thieves who overran your country in the name of loyalty and stole from you while their comrades were fighting. And these witnessesarehaviugweightuow. Their testimony is becoming more aud more Important. Not more ill your behalf, Bill, tiiau against the plunder loving thieves and cowards who went into the war to steal more than to light, to fill their pockets more than to subuue the rebellion so called. We have got sick of this kind of fool- ishness. Weseut for Mucginnis, and he is now at the other eud of the Ave- nue witli a gun in his hand, ready to resist further encroachments on our do main. It is hard, Bill, to forget the in sults of the past, but we must do it. We were both wrong. We both foughtwell. We hurt you and you hurt us! We are both Americans, and you kDow Bill, that is good stock. Up here In the North the people are sick of feasting on blood, and we will have no more of it, except in defence of law, order and the Constitution. The mask is being stripped from the highwaymen who lately patrolled our mountainpaths and all is coming out well. So Tie of good cheer. Do you stand close by it. Assert your rights, Bill, and we will help you maintain them. The war is past. The bloody curtain is rolled up.— You take hold of one end, we will take hold of the other aud carry it far away. The scenes of the past shall never be re enacted Bill, and if youns will be brave, weuns will stand by you, aud we will soon be happy together. "Brick” Pomeroy. The Jews, An Israelite of Bavaria thus writes of the restoration of the chosen people: “ The regathering of the Jewß is now beginning to take place. Not only many single families immigrate to Palestine, hut there have bedn formed a number of societies in almost every land on this continent to prepare an immigration on a large scale, provided with all possi ble means, money, implements, and tools of every kind, to commence the cultivation of the long-desolated land at once, and with the utmost vigor.— There are men of considerable wealth among them, and not one without some means—enough, at least, to defray the expenses of the journey, and to purchase a plot of ground. lam happy to state that I am one of the leading members of a society forming here’fn Bavaria, which numbers already over nliie hun dred heads of families, besides a num ber of young people who would not form an alliance with the other sex until settled in the Holy Land, upon the soil of their rightful heritage;” He also adds: “The Gentiles hereabouts— that is, the petty German Protestant kingdoms and principalities, are even more astir about Palestine than the Jews.” A “hoss dockter” out West, sends to the editor of his nearest paper the following luminous opinion in regard to the pork disease: Mr. Eddltur, eye see by the papurz thet they is a makln e drefful furse A bout the wurmz in the hogs which hez lately killed so many o~ the dutch in prooshy, jest zlf they wuz a nqo thing.; Now Mr. edditur these new tangled wurms, wieh they' hev dubed trik ina existed Ijh Maroon kounty for, yeres. Last summer i cede a hog a lying on the kommoqa nere the lafltte deepo wlch hed mor’na thosen ov em, vizzlbul. to thp pa^ed’,l without the ade uv a mlkerscoap hog hed bin ded a Bout 3. weakfl, that the larvy uve these parrycldes, will breed in horses is a infernal lie got . up for peril tickle and ! am refpojjal bul for,yvs,ij :■'mV'; f‘ ;j
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers