gaufMttt gnteUlfltnw, Published every Wednesday by OOOPEB, BANDEBSOS * OO J. M. Cooper, H. G SMITH, Alfred Sanderson Wm. a. Morton, TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable all cases in advance. OFFlCE—Southwest corner of Centre Square. 43~A.1l letters on business should be ad dressed to Cooper, Sanderson A Co. feetry. The Bore In the Sanctum. BY JOHN O. SAXE. Again I hear that creaking step! HeVrapplng at the door! Too well I know the boding sound Teat ushers In a bore. I do not tremble when I meet The stoutest of my Toes, But Heaven defend me from the friend Who come but never goes. He drops Into my easy chair. And asks about the news ; He peers Into my man us rlpt, And gives his caudld views; He tells me where he Ikes the line, And where he’s forced to grieve; He takes the strangest liberties, But never takes his leave. He reads ray dully paper through Belore I’ve s.-en a word ; He scans the lyric (that I wrote,) And tnlnks it quite absurd ; He calmly smokes my last cigar, And coolly usks for more ; He opens everything he sees— Except the entry door. He talks about his fragile health, And lelJs me of his pains He sutlers irora a score of Ills, Of wnich he ne’er complains; Ami how he s'rugled once with duath To keep tlio fleud at bay ; On themes like those away he goes— Bin. never goes away ! He tells me of the enrping words Home shallow critic wrote, And every previous paragraph Famlllar.y can quote. He thinks l e writer did me wrong, . flo'd like to run him through ! He says a thousand pleasant t ings— But never says “ Adieu !" Whene'er he comes—that dreadful man — U.sgulse it as 1 may, I kn w mat, like an autumn rain, He’ll last throughout the day, In vain I speak oi urgent tasks, In von 1 scowl an pout; A frown Is no extlnqul-her— It does not put bun out! I mean to take the knocker oil', Put crape upon the d or : Or hint to John (hut I am gone To stay a month or inure. I do not tremble when 1 meet The stoutest of my toes; But llru eii detend me from the friend Who never, never goes! The Worm is Full or Beauty. There is beauty In the forest, Where the trees are green and fair There is beauty lute meadow, Where the Mowers scenL the air; There N beauty In the sunlight, And the soil blue be«m above ; •Oh ! the world Is full of b uuty When the heart Is full of love ! There Is 1 canty In the fountain, Hinging gailyjUt the play, x While rainbow hue* we glittering On Its silvery, shiny spray. There l beauty In the streamlet, Murmuring softly through the grove Oh! the world Is full of beauty, When the heart Is full of love! There Is beauty in the moonlight, When IL sleeps upon the sea, While the blue, foam crested billows Dance and frolic Joyously; There is beauty in the lightning gleams That o’er the dark waves rove Oh! the world Is tdllof beauty, When the heart is full of love There is beauty in the brightness Beaming from a loving eye, In the warm blush nf atiertion, In the (ear of sym athy; In the sweet, low voice whose necetus The spirit's gladness prove; Oh ! the world Is full ol beauty, When the heart is full ol love! dCitfwinj. <j»s|)nr Morgan's Temptation Cold, hungry and ragired was Caspar Morgan as he stood looking in at a fa* joouh Irake-shop in Boston. His little -cold nose was Unturned against the great window-pane, Ids blue Augers were .thrust into pockets that hud seen better ■days, and his bare toes just touched the frosty pavement, as he stretched up, gazing wistfully at the temptingly ar rayed “goodies.’' Within, John, the * baker’s boy, was busily dealing out hot loaves and nice, fresh looking cakes to •Ihe crowd of customers. “ Oh, ain't them cakes jolly!” cried Gaspar, iu his delight, forgetting him self aud speaking aloud. “ Wouldn’t I like to he a baker’s hoy ! Oh my ! see the feller cram down tlie gingerbread ! If 'twasonly me. Cruckie!” aud Gas jiar executed a gymnastic ill anticipa tion, and then put his face to the win dow again. He was so busy talking to himself that lie did not notice the mirth of a little old mail, almost hidden in a huge fur overcoat, who was standing in tlie shadow near by. “Oil, dear!” sighed Gaspar, as he saw a servant loading a basket. “Wouldn't it be nice to carry home that basket to mother and little Sue! How mother would cry, and Sue would eat like a house afire!” and Gaspar took his nose away from the window to watch the servant and basket descend the steps. But just then a portly man with a market basket on his arm came pulling clumsily up the steps, and, Tun ning against the servant, upset the bas ket and nearly capsized its bearer. “ I’ll teach you better manners, you great lumbering lubber !” cried the ser waut furiously picking up his scattered puchases. “Ho, Ho!" said the great man good naturedly, “nearly putting an end to ye, hey! Well don't lose your tem per !” “Lose my temper!” exclaimed the ■other, fiercely. “You’ll pay for that!” and he rushed after him into the shop. Gaspar was a highly amused witness .of the scene, and was giggling, “all to .himself” by the lurge window, when Ihe caught sight of something white on ihepavement, and, with a cry of joy, picked it up. “Crackle! ifitain’ta whopping big loaf of bread! Warm as an oven, too! Won’t mother and Sue have a feast!” and tlie liftle fellow danced for joy. All at omv liis counlenance fell, and he looked nllhily around. He had been well taught by his pious mother. She had often told him she would rather starve than take what was not her own. These words came to him now. There was a greatstruggiegoingon In Gaspar’s heart just then. The good at last tri umphed, and, with a smothered sob and a very determined look on his lace, he went bravely into the shop where the wrathful servant and the man were still disputing. "Here, mister,” said lie, pulling the servant by the sleeve, ■" here'syourloaf ofbread you dropped!” “My bread! you young rascal!” cried lie, glad to vent his spite on some one. “ How much have you stolen beside?” “For shame!” said the corpulent gentleman. "That’s all the thunks I get,” mut tered Guspar, ns he trudged hungrily and sorrowfully homeward. But when almost there he heard a quick step be hind him, and a hand was laid on his ishoulder. Turning, he saw a small gentleman In a big fur coat. "Well, my little man,” said he, pleasantly, “why did you not carry home the bread to mother and little Sue?” Gaspar turned very red, and the merry old man burst into a fit of laughter. “Ho, ho!” he almost shouted. “Thought you didn't know somebody was looking at you all the time.'' Then he added, gravely, “Give me your hand, my boy. I saw it all, and It’s lucky you did not yield to the tempter. I should have nabbed you quick as a wink , if there’s anybody I’m down on it’s a thief.” “I hope I shall never do so again,’> said Gaspar, confusedly. “ I’ll risk you,” said the man. “Now take me to your home, and I’ll help you, or my name isn’t Nicholas Gram!” Gaspar told his new friend his sad 1 story, how his father had died and left Lancaster JintdlioiauTi: VOLUME 67. his mother to take care of the children, —how Bhe grew sick, and Susie cried for bread. But it would take a long time to tell what a kind friend Mr. Grum was to the poor family. He hired new and better lodgings, and little Susie, a black-eyed girl, soon grew plump and joyous. As for Gaspar, he forgot his desire to be a baker's boy with his first good dinner. But his noble friend got him a situation in a store, where, by his honesty and strict attention to business, he finally rose to be partner, and is now a well known merchant of Boston, whose rea name we have not given. Catching a Widow. Obadiah Barton was going to be an old bachelor, so all his friends and ac quaintances said, and they all felt an interest iD his welfare —at least all who had female-relatives of a marriageable age. Obadiah was a well to-do city grocer, with an established business, and had been very diffident for years with re gard to the fair sex ; not that he had no eye for beauty or desire for a pleasant home, but the fact was when he was a youth and a clerk in his father’s store, he fell desperately in love with a con fectioner’s daughter, who dealt out such smiles and sugar plums near by. As his father was supposed to be rich, she returned his love with all the ardor of a blushing damsel of seventeen. Thus matters progressed favorably for a time, until his father suddenly dying, and bis estate proving insolvent, the confection er’s daughter promptly cut him and married a rich widower of forty-five. That matrimonial manceuver put Obadiah out with the fair sex, and he turned ids attention to trade, and, after a term of yeurs became well establish ed. Meanwhile he had grown miserly, and now wished to get married, that he might have some one to manage the afiairs of the household ; servants were so pilfering, and boarding was so high, he concluded that thebesteeonomy was to get married. But whom should he choose, for the experience of his boy hood led him to infer that getting mar ried was a matter of choice, now that he had acquired a competency. Girls were so giddy, lie said, and lov ed to dress extravagantly, and be going to bulls and concerts and theatres. That would never do. A widow was the one. He concluded that they had experience in houskeep ing, and would not he so careless or ex travagant ; so lie began to look around sharp for some young widow. One day an acquaintance of Ills, Mr. Lercy, said to him. “ Why don’t you get married, Mr. Barton You are rich enough to support a wife.” “ Well, i suppose I ought to, but I don't know where to find a wife. If you think I ought to get married, you must find me one.” Now tills was the very request Mrs. Leroy was seeking after, bo she said : “Oil, I can find you one that will please you.” “ Ah ! who is she ?" “ Oh, au acquaintance who is visiting me now.” Now the truth was, the lady in ques tion was a cousin of Mrs. Leroy’s, and they had thoroughly considered tlie chance of getting tlie grocer. “ How oid iB she ?” “ Only about thirty ; but then she is a widow, perhaps you might object to that.” “ Well, I don’t know. Who was her lusband ?” " John Thornton ; used to keep a grocery store up town.’’ “ Oh, I knew him. He died last year. Left some property, didn’t he ?" "Yes —some.” "He did not leave any children did he?” “No, but I must be going. Call around some evening and see the lady.” Obadiah now sat down to consider on the position of ail’airs. He had been ac quainted with Thornton and had called at his house, and recollected that he had a fine looking wife. He knew that Thornton was a thriving tradesman. "I wonder if Thornton left her his property?” he soliloquised. “Mustbe — he has no children; anyhow there’s a chance for it.” The next evening he called at Mrs. Leroy’s.arrayed.in his best, and was in troduced to Mrs. Thornton, who was dressed in a plain, but neat calico dress, and very industriously sewing on a vest for Mrs. Leroy. "Industrious and economical,” thought Mr. Barton. They chatted pleasantly for a while, when one of Mrs. Leroy's daughters spoke of a new play at tlie theatre the previous evening. "You ought to have gone, Mrs. Thorn ton,” said she. "Oh I do not approve of the theatres; besides I can never find time to go,” said she. “A very sensible woman," thought Obadiah who shortly after left. His calls became frequent. At length he proposed to the widow and was ac cepted. They were quietly married, and thenext day his spouse proposed a short trip to Niagara. Obadiah demurred-somewhat, saying he could not very well leave his busi ness ; but his bride began to pout, and inwardly groaning he appeared readily to consent. He began a series of uncomfortable reflections when he beheld his wife's travelling coßtume—silk dresses, velvet cloaks and hats and rich jewelry began to appear from her trunks. Her trip of a week somehow length ened into three. One day, shortly after his return, when became home tosupper, he found three little girls, from the age of eight to twelve, seated with his wife. "Who are these children?” he In quired. “ They are my daughters by my first husband Mr. Lane —Adeline, Josephine, Angelina, arise and salute your new papa.” “ But— do they live?” “ Why here, my dear! Where should they live but with their new father?” Obadiah was dumbfounded. Here was something more than he bargained for. ? A further investigation proved that Mr. Thornton had left all his property to a younger brother. In vain did Oba diah expostulate; the children had gained a foothold and they kept it. “Confound the luck! they are all girls!” was Obadiah’s last soliloquy.— “If they were boys, I could have em ployed them to some purpose; but girls! Why didn’t I follow the advice of old Weller? Hang the widows! Why didn’t I marry an old maid?” Getting In at Night. “ The door was locked when I got home,” said Tom, “and how to get in without waking the governor, was the difficulty. I knew he’d give me par ticular fits if he knew I was out after ten, and the clock had just struck one. The backyard was an impossibility, and but one chance remained. There was a porch over the front door, the roof of which was a few feet below two win dows. One of them I knew was fas tened down, and the other opened from a bedroom, which might or might not be occupied. An old maiden sister of the governor’s wife had arrived on the same day, and it was very probable that she was in that room ; but I knew the bed was in the corner furthest from the window, and I hoped I should he able to get in and through the room without awakening her, and then I had com paratively an easy thing of it. So get ting a plank from a neighboring board pile, I rested it against the eaves of tile shed, pulled off my shoes, put them in my pocket, aud ‘cooiied.’ All right so far, hut I thought it necessary, in order not to arouse suspicion in the morning, to remove the plank ; so dragging it up I threw it off the end, aud down itwent with an awful clatter on astray dog that had followed me two or three squares, aud who immediately set up the most a» ful whine hound ever gave tongue to. That started half a dozen dogs in the neighborhood harking ; a mocking bird in the window above commenced as ii he intended to split his throat at it, aud an old woman in her night clothes, with a candle in her hand, appeared at a window across the street. 1 knew that I was safe as far as she was concerned, hut if any one came to our windows, the candle gave enough light to have very probably discovered me. Nobody did come, however, and the old lady, after peering up and down the street for a minute or two, popped in her head and retired. The mocking bird still kept up his eternal whistle, and it was full half an hour before it and the dog settled down andgavemeaehance to move. Creeping slowly along the wall till I reached the window, I put my hand on the sill, sprang in, and with my legs hanging outstepped to listen. Yes, she was in that room, for I was sure I could hear her breath ing. After waking for a minute, I cautiously drew up one leg aud then the other, drew them around, aud put ting them down to the floor was just conscious that I had stepped on some thing soft and yielding, and was with drawing them, when another yell broke out at my feet; the old maid jumped from her bed, crying “murder!” And tlie mocking bird started again’. A lit tle darkey was lying on her back under the window, and I had stepped on her luce, aud of course, woke tier up. I decided in a moment what to do. The house would be aroused, and I was caught to a certainty, unless I could get to my room before the governor was up; but I hadn’t a moment to lose, for the little negro was screaming ; so I started for the door, made three steps, struck a chair, tumbling over, of course making the awfulest racket you ever heard in the “dead hour of night,” in a peaceable house. The nigger and old maid screamed louder than ever, the mocking bird whistled louder than a -,1 emu whistle, and they made a chorus as loud as J Lilian's. I readied the door, however, and quietly and quickly opened it, and just got into the hall in time to see the old gentleman open his door, with a candle in his hand, and came hurrying up the stairs. Not a moment was toiie lost. There was a wardrobe near where I stood, and I sprang behind it. Up came tlie governor, reached the door, opened it, and went in, and in the meantime there was all sorts of confusion and en quiry down stairs as to what was tlie matter. Nobody else came up, though from where I stood 1 heard every word of the inquiry aud explanation in the room. Of course they could not make much out of it. The little darkey was too frightened and too sound asleep at the time to understand the truth aud the upshot of the busiuess was that they concluded she had been dreaming, and the governor, after giving her a sound shaking, and explaining the matter to the aroused neighbors from the window s, went down to his room again. “So far, so good. I had now to go down stairs, reach the hack door, unbar it, get into the yard, make for my room which is in the second story of a building that stood unconnected with, and about a dozen yards from the main one. After giving everybody another half hour to settle down again, I started. ‘Boys, did you ever try to go up or down a pair of stairs at midnight with out making a noise? You may try it all sorts of ways, but every step is sure to creak, each with a peculiar noise of its own, and loud enough, you are sure to wake everybody. I had gotten nearly to the bottom when a little dog came trotting up the entry towards me, yelling furiously. A suppressed ‘come here, Zip’ silenced him, for he recognized me; but the little fellow started the mocking bird, and all the neighborhood, having learned to take the cue, of course joined the chorus for the third time.” I ran along the passage, reached the door, unlocked it, just aB the governor roused the second time, opened his door, and seeing a man escaping from the house by the back way, of course cried ‘thieves! thieves!’ and made a rush for me. I was too quick for him though, I opened, the door, sprang out, made for the door that opened in the room below mine, and just reached it, when crash ! within a foot of my head went a brick, and a voice that I knew belonged to the next door neighbor. Tompkins joined thegovernor in theory of ‘thieves ! thieves! murder! murder!’ I was safe though. ‘Running up stairs I ‘shelled’ myself quicker than I ever did before or since, und was in bed sound asleep in half a minute. 'Wasn’t there a row though ! I never heard so many dogs before —the mock iug bird, of course waß outdoing all pre vious effort—the chickens began to crow —Tompkins, next door, was halloing ‘thieves!’ and calling the governor. I could hear screams and all sorts of noises, and talking among the neighbors, until at length the old gentlmairs voice was heard in the yard calling ‘Tom! Tom!' Tom, fortunately, was sound asleep, snoring. “Tom! 1 cried the old man, iu a voice that would have aroused a man from an epileptic fit.’ “ I judged it prudent to awuken then, and jumping from my bed, raised the window, rubbing one eye, and looking particularly frightened (which I wasn't,) then asked: “ Why, father, what in the world’s the matter ?” " There’s thieves in the house,” was the reply: get your gun and come down —be quick.” "He'sin theroom below you,” halloed Tompkins. “I’m certain of it; I saw him as he ran down, and threw a fire brick at him. I know he didn’t pass the door, Mr. Jones.” I was directed to look out for myself; the governor stood sentinel at the door below, armed with a club, while Tomp kins had five minutes to collect aid from the neighbors, and in less than half that time, so thoroughly was every house alarmed, there was a dozen or more men In the yard, armed with guns, pistols and bticks, ‘The governor led theattack; opening the door, he called : 'Come out here, you house breaking scoundrel! If you attempt to resist I’ll blow your brains out!” ‘Nobody came, however.’ 'Watch the door while I go in,’ and I was told to look sharp and shoot the rascal if he came up stairs. A momen tary search was sufficient to satisfy everybody that the thief was not in the room. "He’supstairsthen!” said Tompkins, ‘for I’ll take my bible oath that he didn’t pass that door.’ “ But up they troopped, but I had lit a candle by that time, and there was no burglar there. The strictest search even looking under a boot, didn’t show the faintest trace of him. The yard was examined, then the house, and every body was tolerably well satisfied that he had escaped: but I was appointed senti nel for the night and ordered not to go LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, MAY 2, 1866 to sleep on my post under penalty of a flogging.” “ The articles missing, on a thorough investigation the next day were two pies and an old lady’s silver thimble. The thimble turned up in a week or two, being discovered under the carpet; but the pies have never been recovered. On oath I could have given very m ite rial testimony as to the disposition of the stolen property, but the case didn’t come before a court and I remained quiet. “ Didn’ t the local editors loom, though ! One of them elongated himself through a half column and headed the article, 1 A Diabolical and Attrocious Attempt at Burglary and Murder,’ describing with graphic particulars the fiendish attempt to throttle Miss L and her servant, complimented the coolness of R. Tompkins, Esq., and perorated with a withering anathema on the want of vigilance displayed by tlie policeman. “ It was fun for me to see with what wide awake sagacity the watchman used to stop at our front door and listen, during his rounds, for a month after. — Tlie excitemeuUiJied away, after a while; but I’ll lifai’er forget the night I tried'togetin without making a noise.” A Few Words About Visits. Tlie Vlmlcrii ldcn of Hospitality. Tile poetry of tlie world is fast dying out. Love means a good bargain. De votion meahs going to church in the morning ou comfortable Sundays, aud hospitality—well, we are forgetting what that does mean. It is a tradition’, the rounding period of our grandmoth ers' epitaphs. I am a maiden lady, a little ancient, yet not old. I teach ail the year round, except in vacations. Last winter a married schoolmate living in N wrote me a pressing invitation to visit her. “ Come any time,” sliesaid. “We are always delighted to see you ; only be sure aud come, dear M.” I am not credulous in the matter of invitation, having certain horrible examples of Imposition ever before luy eyes; hut this one I really thought I must uccept. The slimmer vacation came, and a bright June day brought me to tlie home of my friend. I spied her as I came near tlie house drawing her hahy in the yard, looking very fresh and pretty in her bright pink dress. I hur ried a little, all ready for a warm em brace. Lo! the tips of her fingers, a tiny kiss on one cheek, and, “ I'm very happy to see you, Margaret,” iu a tone that means, to sensitive’*ears, “I will he polite, hut I wish you were ill Jop pa.” My heart sunk, hut there was no help. Into the house I must go aud there must I stay.ten mortal days. The invitation mood had passed off. I resolved to make myself useful, and began vigorous embroidering of baby hoods a crocheting of baby-sacks; but I soon made tlie pleasing discovery that all this was calculated upon beforehand. These were things that visitors would be likely to do! I did thick in time to refrain from adding to the washingand ironing, and expressed the utmost in difference to certain rides mid excur sions which were proposed in the evi dent hope that I shouldn’t wish to go. Tlie price of provisions was discussed at tlie tulde in a way that made me afraid to take a second cup of tea or piece of cake, though tlie basket was always passed with the gingerbread side towards me. Tlie ten days came to aueud. I pack ed my trunk with a lighter heart than I had felt since 1 unpacked it, stretched my conscience woefully to say what a pleasant time I hud bad, and sped away With unutterable reflections. After riding five or six hours in cars and stage, the reflections were somewhat dulled by a decided sensation of faint ness; for you must know that the cus tom of putting up luncheon for depart ing guests is quite obsolete. No matter if you are well aware they will have no chance to get even coffee and cake be fore night. Ask them no questions.— BiiHthem good-bye with a smileing face. Urge them to come again very soon, and say "This has only been a call.; we want a long visit next time " Then shut tlie door, and give a sigh of relief that that is over at last. There are myths about sharing the last crust with a friend. There was cer tainly something in tlie geography about savage tribes, who reverenced even a mortal foe und r the title of guest. Alas for the romantic faith of childhood. They had probably reckoned the value of the venison steak they had eaten, after they had gone. Don't be too in dignant on the general subject. You know very well you didn’t dare to ask your old friend George White home to pine with you yesterday, though you hadn't seen him before iu adozen years. You didn’t like to risk the storm with madam. It wasn’t in her plan to have company to dinner that day. She’s a very systematic housekeeper. I told you I was an old maid, but I did once have brothers and sisters and a home, like other people; so I’m not so un practical as you think. I know tlie hidden mysteries of housekeeping—the biscuit made in a hurry for unexpected company, the tirade from Bridget, who “won’t stir a step to carry wather up stairs aftlier doin’ all tiffs day’sironin ;” I know the hurry tofinish sewing before the arrival of guests and the hurry after they had gone to make up the lost time; but to grudge all this effort was not the custom when I was young. To tell you tlie truth I think it was the re ligion iu our little home that made it so easy to entertain guests in season and out of season. The mothers cheerful self-forgetfulness only emphasized the father’s serious voice, reading at pray ers. "Use hospitality without grudg ing.” It rarely occurred to us to think at the trouble of company. If we did we were soon ashamed of it, and as for the visits of real friends they were the great delight of the year. How unso phisticated —how old-fashioned we were! Gail Hamilton has a sensible chapter in “ A New Atmosphere,” on public meetings, anniversaries, &0., where the heavy burden of entertaining falls on already overtasked housekeepers. Sensi ble as it was, we recoiled a little in read ing it because it seems to us the tide sets quite too strongly that way already. We know well the headaches and vari ous miseries that result from the usual sweeping and dusting and cooking and smiling of these anniversary occasions. We know, too, the parting look of grati tude, the warm pressure -of the hand, the tearful eye that somehow strangely reminded one of the distant music, “ Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.” After all, it is a fancy of ours that we don’t live just to have as easy a time as possible, and that generous hospitality needn’t be confined to the rich. It re flects no great honor on our common nature, if the struggle to make small means meet high prices must hlunt our affection, cool our ardor, and change the genial, graceful courtesy of hearty friendship into a mere calculation of trouble and expense. No matter on what “hamely fare we din,” or how often the “hodden gray” has to be made over; do let us welcome our friends with simple old-time sincerity to share it just as it is. If we cau’t have all the new magazines on the table, or many pictures on the walls, we can be so truly affectionate, so thoughtful of our sister’s comfort, bo thoroughly hospitable, in the true, old sense of the word, that there will always be in their memories a halo round our plain,-quiet home. If we can have all these comforts for our selves, it argues a miserable, indolent selfishness not to rejoice in sharing them with our friends. We want an other Mrs. Opie to write a new chapter on ’White Lies,’—the lies of invitation, —aud a new aposLle to preach on tile beauty of ministering. The Mate Detective. "No dogs admitted, sir,” said the por ter to a’gay assemblage, as a young mail and his dog appeared at the entrance ; “you must leave him behind if you go in.” “Veryweii,” said theyoungman, stay about here, Prince, till I come hack!’’ aud he joined tlie crowd within. By-umi by the young man wished to refer to his watch, when, behold! the chain had been snapped in two and tlie valuable time-piece was gone. He considered the case u moment, and then a sudden thought flashed through his mind, t-jo, stepping out, he whispered tlie fact to the porter and gained permission to take tile dog in for a minute or two. "Look here, Prince,” said lie, " you knowing dog, my watch isstoleti/’and besliowed him theempty pocket and the cut chain. “Do you understand, old fellow ? In there, sir, 1h the thief. You find it, my good doggie, and I’ll get you a famous treat. You understand, do you?” Prince wagged his head and tail, aud gave his master a wonderful knowing look, and then ihe two stole quietly into tlie [dace. Q.uietly this dumb detective gliiled around among tlie people, smelling away at this one’s coat aud at that one’s chain, until at last he set his teetli firmly into tlie coat skirt of a genteel looking man, and could not be shaken off Tlie young man quietly made known the case to the bystanders who gathered around him, and had the thief’s pockets duly searched. Six oth er watches were found upon him, which he had gathered up in the course of the morning, and which their rightful owners were very glad to get their hands on again. Prince selected out his master’s property in a twinkling, as that was all lie cared for, aud gave it to him joyfully. It would have taken a very keen policeman to do tlie work so neatly and quickly, and all agreed that he merited as good a dinner as a dog could have. A good beef hone aud a howl of milk, however, abundantly sat isfied all his wants, and then lie was just as ready to do the same favor over again. The Three Sieves. “ O, mamma!” cried little Blanche, “ I heard such a tale about Edith Howard. I did not think she could have been so naughty. Oue day—” “ My dear,” interrupted her mamma, "before you oontiuue, we will see if your story will pass the three sieves.” “What does that mean, mamma?” said Blanche. “ I will explain it, dear. In tiie first place, is it true .’” “ I suppose so, mamma. I heard it from Miss Parry, who said a friend of Miss White's told her the story ; and Miss White is agreatfriend of Edith’s.” “And does she show her friendship by telling tales of her? In the next place, though you cannot prove it is true, is it kind .”’ “ I did not mean to be unkind, mam ma; but | aip afniid 1 was. I should not like EJdith to speak of me as I have spoken of her." “And is it ncocasary “ No, of course not, mamma ; ere was no need for me toinent 1 .tat ail." “Then, dear Blanche, pray that your tongue may be governed, and that you may not indulge in evil speaking; and strive more and more to imitate the meekness of your Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” Japanese Uses of the Fan Neither men nor women wear bats except as a protection against the rain; the fan is deemed a sufficient guard from the sun, and perhaps nothing will more strike the newly-arrived Euro pean than this fan, whioh he will see in the hand or the girdle of every hu man being. Soldiers and priests are no more to be seen without their fans than fine ladies who make of theirs the use to which fans are put in other coun tries. Amongst the men of Japan it serves a great variety of purposes; visi tors receive the dainties offered them upon their fans; the beggar imploring for charity, bolds out his fan for the alms his prayers may have obtained. The fan serves the dandy in lieu of a whalebone switcli; the pedagogue in stead of a ferule for the offending schoolboy's knuckles; and, not to dwell too long upoq the subject, a fan presen ted on a peculiar kind of salver to a high-born criminal, is said to be the form of announcing his death doom; his head is struck off at the same mo ment that he stretches It towards the fan. —As people grow older they require less sleep, and often find it difficult to get as much as they do require. A plausible theory to account for the trouble some persons experience in failing asleep at the time they deem It desirable is the disproportion between the degrees of fatigue of the mind and body at the hour of retiring. A person of sedentary habits, who uses his brain throughout the day instead of his body, will often find that while the former is wearied out and requires repose, the latter needs exercise instead of restand is so restless in bed that it will not permit its immaterial companion to sleep. If a man of active mind be em ployed during the day hi heavy manual labor, that though requiring no exer tions of mind, must have sufficient at tention to prevent thought upon other matters, he will find at night that his unwearied thinking apparatus will remain wide awake in spite of the era ing of the worn out body for rest.— The reason of this and its remedy are quite apparent, though many cannot understand why after laboring indus triously all day, they cannot sleep at night. In persons of active mind and sound body accustomed to consecutive thought, the equilibrium of fatigue must be observed, but it does not mat ter to those who never use the thinking faculties sufficiently to induce weari ness. The mind, in suoh cases, is always ready to fall asleep when the body does. ptecclhnrous. Tbe Freedmen. General Ntecdman i Mlulen iu Noath —The Labor Question In Virginia. ;R chmouJ Correspondencj of the New York Heralii.J Richmond, Va., April 13, 1860. By order of the War Department a commission of inquiry has been issued into the working of the Freedmeu’s Bureau in the South. Tlie commission ers appointed are Major General J. B. Steedman, of Ohio, aud Brigadier Gen eral J. S. Fullerton, of Missouri, who, as General Howard’s former adjutant general, is of course especially familiar with the objects contemplated by the organization, and with the internal workings of the system. The investi gation will probably be pursued over ail th€ Southern States from Virginia to Texas, aud will embrace tlie extent aud charhcter of tbe relief afforded to freedmen in the past, the amount of as sistance deemed necessary iu the future, the effect of the system ou the relations of the whiteand negro population, its cost to the country, aud the necessity or otherwise of its continuance. The entire social system of the South, under the new order of tilings, must thus be brought upon the carpet, and much val uable information as to the changed re lations of capital and laborin the South ern States will of necessity be elicited. Richmond, where all the peculiarities of the old regime centred and converged, and where the negro population is per haps denser Ilian iu any other part of tlie South, was naturally selected us tlie starting point of the commission. Gen erals Steedman and Fullerton arrived in this city on Tuesday last, and on the following day commenced their labors. Opinions have been sought from all classes and shades of persons—Rebels, regenerated and unregeneruted, Union ists, officers of the Bureau, negroes, and “ poor whites.” The Commissioners have held themselves accessible to every one having information to give, and have evinced a determination to make the investigation as complete and as searching as possible. A COLORED OPINION Among the first persous consulted on the subjecl was a venerable darkey, in a Joseph’s coat of many colors, uud no breeches or hat to speak of, who, paus ing in his labor of clearing among the dcbrU of the great fire to have a look at the Yaukeestrangers, wus accosted with the inquiry, “\yell, uucle, how are you getting aloijg-?” “Berry well, massa, berry well. 1 ’ “Plenty of work, eh?” “Well, sa, there’s work sure enough for them as likes to do it.” “Well, do you think you freedmen can get along with out assistance?” “No, sa, I don’t.” “Then you think it necessary the Freed men’s Bureau should continue?” “Not by a (i d sight!” returned the ven erable darkey, y.nd without further loss of time resumed his shovelliug. GENERAL OPINION It Uiust be confessed that this aged negro’s view of the matter is very large ly shared by the population ot Rirh moud. The Kreedmen's Bureau is re garded with dislike, moreor less intense, by the entire people. Of Col. (now Brevet Brigadier General) Brown, the Assistant Commissioner in charge of affairs, every one speaks in terms of high respect. By his administration In* seems to have acnieved the diillculL feat of conciliating every one and offending ,no one. It is evident, therefore, that the unpopularity of the Bureau does not arise from any maladministration at headquarters. Other causes account for the dislike. Prominent among' these is the feeliug that the Bureau is a part of the “army of occupation,” as the United States troops are termed, and a standing intimation that the Southern people are not to be trust ed. It is Thad. Stevens and Wendell Philips and Sumner present in the flesh, a living embodiment of the extreme radicalism which brought on the war and is now keeping the Southoutofthe Union. So it is hatred with a hatred “ not loud, but deep.” The better clasß of citizens, including those most promi nent before and during the war, com mit noovertact against the Bureau, aud neither seek to aid nor to impede its labors. But they are all of one accord In wishing to see the military occupa tion at an end and civil authoYity once more restored. They assert that it fosters idleness among the negroes, aud creates antagonism between the white and oolored races. On theother hand, many Union men are in favor of its continu ance, and express a fear that should the organization he removed, the negro, by taxation, by vagrant laws, and by a thousand other acts of oppression, would be reduced to a condition of servitude worse than that from which he lias been lately freed. I.AiiOK IN THE OI.IJ DOMINION One-eightli of the slave population in the .South reside within Hie limits of the State of Virginia. There were half a million slaves in the State before tbe war, and that number has not been les sened since. During the winter months the Bureau administered relief to nearly ten thousand persons. The number now on the books is considerably less, and tiie diminution is constantly going on. ifany of the negroes, it is found, are returning to their former masters, and wherever they have been kindly treated they have shown a disposition to resume work at fair and reasonable wages. In suoh oases tbe new system has been found to work advantageously both for masters and men. When tiie evacuation of Itiehmond was ordered one of the largest tobacco growers in the district called his slaves round him and briefiy told them, “ You are free and so am I.” Practically tiie result has justified his anticipation, lie lias been enabled to get more work done by fewer hands and at less expense. One of the great difficulties experienced under the new system lias been to con vince the negro of the obligation upon him to support his wife and children.— Cinsur had been accustomed to change his wife at convenience and leave massa to dispose of tiie children, and tiie new arrangement comes hard on him. A darkey from another .State, who recent ly set out to visit his old home, strongly opposed the suggestion that he must take with him his wife and five small children, on the ground that he’d brought no women or children with him and “ wasn't a gwine to take none back.” The planters, generally, accord to the negro the highest praise both for his conduct during the war and since. The only trouble the Bureau lias had has been with the negroes to whom it has been represented that the lands on which they were temporarily located were their own. These have been found hard to deal with, and the work of dis possessing them of the property on which they had squatted has been in some cases attended with serious disturb ances. The experiment ofintroduclng white labor into the State has been a failure, as far as Virginia is concerned. Land is poor, the planters are poor, wages are low, food scanty, and no Bu reau aids the white laborer. About fif teen hundred emigrants, principally Swedes, have entered the State. Some of them have applied to the Freedmen’s Bureau for transportation back. Charlottesville, Ya., April 16. Under theshadowof Jefferson’s tomb, (said tomb, by the way, being in astate of woeful dilapidation), with the beauti ful Blue Ridge Mountains stretching away in the distance, with fertile soil and promising crops rapidly recovering from the effects of the March drought, there are fewer signs of the ravages of war in this district than perhaps in any other part of Virginia. The relations of the two races also have suffered little or no disarrangement. The negroes have passed from slavery into freedom so quietly and bo peaceably that an out sider visiting the district can hardly be lieve that any such social revolution has been effected. One day in Albemarle county is sufficient to efface five years of radical misrepresentation. The facts developed so far by General Steedman’s commission of inquiry are utterly in consistent with the views of Congress and the statements of the radical press. So much has been said and written about the natural antagonism of the two races, about the prejudice existing NUMBER 17. among the white population against the blaelf, and of the necessity of main taining some go-between to secure jus tice to the negro, that I was prepared to find some bitterness existing and to witness some cases of injustice and op pression. Like Mr. Scrooge, when he waited on the ghost of Christmas to come, I was " prepared for something, but not for nothing.” Nothing is what I have found—absolutely nothing of ill feeling and bitterness; and I scarcely know how to record it. Everywhere I have yet been I have found the most kindly and friendly relations subsisting between blacks and whites. I have seen former slaves working cheerfully for their old masters, still calling them ” massa” as of old ; former masters supporting the aged and infirm of their former slaves ; perfect reliance on the other. Outrages, such as have been de scribed jn the Northern papers, com mitted by white men upon negroes, have undoubtedly occurred; but they have been exceptional cases, and are no more indicative of the general sentiments of the population than are stray porter house shooting affrays indicative of the moral state of Bociety in New York. A REPRESENTATIVE PLANTER. In the Charlottesville district there is a large colored population engaged exclusively in agricultural pursuits. About forty of the principal planters waited this morning upon General Steedman, and discussed with freedom their position and prospects. One of the number—Mr. W. 1\ Earißh, a lead ing Virginian, who served as Colonel in the .Rebel army—related his experi ence, which may be taken as a fair ex ample of tlie general feeling of the peo ple. He stated that aUthe end of the war he had one hundred and eleven negroes, most of whom he still retained in his service, as well as several house servants who pleaded poverty and begged to be allowed to remain on the plantation. Only last week he sent his wagons over to Buckingham to bring over another set who hnd no other claim upon him but that they were the father and mother, brothers anti sisters of his shoemaker. All of these negroes were now working for him at monthly wages, without written contracts, and were working contentedly and well. “I have changed myopinionentirely,” said Colonel Parish, “regarding the negroes. I used to think they would never make valuable members of so ciety. But they have behaved so ad mirably during the war, they have shown so much good feeling towards the white population, so much good feeling hasheen exhibited by the whites towards them, and the new order of things has workedso happily and so well, that I have changed my views entirely. The presence of the Freedmen’s Bureau, though it is to "well administered here, duly tends topromote bad feeling among tbe vicious.” In these views allofthose present concurred. One or two gentle men acknowledged that the Bureau had been of considerable service in the past, but considered thatitsconiinuance longer than another six months would only tend lo introduce elements of discord where none now existed. I conversed subsequently with a number of colored people and found that they were every whit us satisfied with their former masters as their employers were with them, and were no more anxious for the perpetuation of the Freedmen’s Court. Charlettesviile may be an exceptional place; this remains to be seen ; but certainly, so far as this district is con cerned, labor aud capital have adjusted themselves in accordance with the fix ed luws of supply uud demand with great rapidity and most beneficial re sults. VIRGINIANS TEACHING A COI.OREII RCN- DAY SCHOOL. One of the most remarkable illustra tions of the good feeling prevailing in the community I witnessed on Sunday afternoon. In a large school-room under the Baptist church, about three hundred colored children, of all shades, from nearly white to ebony black, were as sembled, and thirty or forty white per sons, many of them belonging to the first families in the country, and most of them the sons and daugh ters of former slaveholders, were engaged in teaching them. The su perintendent of the school was Mr. A. P. Abell, of the National Bank. — Among the teachers were Miss Ann Gilmore, sister of Governor Gilmore; Mrs. Thompson Brown, wife of a Colo nel in the Rebel army, and Mrs. H. P. Loutham, widow of the late Professor of Richmond College, and a number of ladies connected with the Aibemarle Female Institute, Clear away in one corner of the room a distinguished and learned law professor of the Virginia University (Professor Minor) was la boriously engaged in teaching one bright-eyed little darkey his letters, and quite a number of the students of the University were pursuing similar avo cations. The children learn with won derful aptitude, and have already made considerable progress. They are taught spelling, reading, and singing, and it is intended soon to add writing and cipher ing. Thus has the education of the blacks been going on for Borne monthj past, and meets not only with no oppo sition from the old slaveholders, but is done by their express desire and with their active co-operation. As many as five hundred children have been in school at one time, and the average daily attendance is nearly three hun dred. FROM LYNCHBURd. Tiie same correspondent writes from Lynchburg, Ya., as follows : The record of Lynchburg only differs from that of Charlottesville by being, if possible, a little more satisfactory. There are six schools established here, and not only negroes but tbe children of the poorer whites are being educated by these agencies, and the teachers are native Virginians. The freedmen are working well, at fair wages. A short time ago tiie freedmen bought a church for SI 1,500, and in less than a month they have been able to raise half the purchase money. The criminal business of the Freed men's Court throughout the entire State was turned over to the civil authorities Beven weeks ago, and it has been found that the local magistrates have disposed of the business brought before them in a manner that lias given universal sat isfaction. There is one ever present sense of dread in the community whicli para lyzes to a great extent the progress of the country and the return of peaceful udustry, and that is the dread of fur ther legislation on the part of Congress in the direction of the Civil Rights bill. This is felt to be tbe only real clanger of tiie South and the only disturbing iu liuence. The constant agitation of tiie negro suffrage bill and other kindred topics agitate the blacks and unsettles the whites—it stops the influx of fresh capital into the country and prevents the profitable investment of such cap ital us already exists here. Tbe Chamborsburg Belief Fund. The Valley Spirit says: Messrs. Briggs, Jordan and McAllister, Commissioners appointed to assess the losses sustained by our citizens by the burning of the town by the rebels, have finished their labors, and on Saturday last filed their report in the office of the Auditor Gen eral of the State. The aggregate of the losses is $1,025,474.58. These gentlmen have discharged the duty assigned them with commendable promptness and fairness, and although, in our opinion, some mistakes have been made, we are free to say that our citizene were for tunate in getting these gentlemen as Commissioners. The thanks of our people are especi ally due to the gentlemantly and effici ent Clerk of the Commissioners, Mr. John M. Gilmore, and the advisory committee of citizens, who each per formed their duties in such a manner as to entitle them to commendation. The amount appropriated will, we learn, pay 30} per cent, on the losses and as soon as the necessary calculations are made, and papers prepared, the money will be paid out at the Bank.— Sufferers can reasonably expect to get their money within ten days froin this time. BATKSOF APVKKTJM? O -, fractions of ayear. _ _ RXJLZi BETTATZ, PZBfiOVAL PROPXBTY, tt.aGra nA*. Anvxnnszvo. 7 osata sr-llnd ft* tno lint, and 4 cents for each subsequent laser* Patent Xsozcms and other adv&ffl tyth* column: * ’ • Oneoolamn.l year,^....^..^—* Half column, 1 rear .... (o > Third column,! year,- K ; Quarter 001umn,................................... SO Htranncsa Cards, of ten lines or less, ■ One year,™ 10 Bnslness(&rds,llvellnesor less, one . year 6 LxoAl and onrxß NOTicx&r”, Executors' notices... .... 2.00 Administrators’ notices—™.—... 2.00 Assignees’ notices, 2.00 Auditors’ notices _.... 1,80 Other “ Notices, ■’ten lines, or lees, three times, - .60 IFrom the Washington Correspondence of the Cincinnati Commercial. | A Good Bnrlcsqne. DAN. RICE BEFORE THE RECONSTRUC TION COMMITTEE. The Committee on Reconstruction still persists in suppressing the most important testimony elicited before it. Dan Rice has recently been on a circus tour through the lately rebellious States, aud has hud opportunities such os are afforded to few for observing the condi tion of the Southern people as to loyalty. His testimony will be found to show the true feeling that exists in the South when the thin crust of pretended loyalty Is melted away and true character is revealed as under the exhileratlng In fluence of a menagerie, when man stands in the presence of the untamed forces of nature, separated therefrom only by the thin partition of an iron cage. Mr. Rice being duly sworn, tes tified thus : 4-—You have an unruly animal, known as a pet mule, with your circus, have you not? A. —I have. 4- —What aro the idiosyncrasies of that beast ? A.—He is much given to kicking. 4-—lt is almost impossible to ride him, is it not? A.—lt is. I generally offers2s to any man who will ride him round the ring. 4-—On your late visit to the South, did you receive any offers to ride that mule ? A. —I did. Q.—State what occurred on these oc casions. A.—ln Richmond, a discharged Con federate soldier attempted to ride him, but was immediately thrown fiat on Ills back. Q. —What did the Confederate soldier suy to this? A. —He said the mule was ad—d Yan kee cuss. Q. —Did any others make tlie attempt ? A.—Another of Lee’s veterans tried to ride him, nud succeeded. 4- —What did he Bay ? A.—He said. afLer he had dismount ed, that if he’d had a regiment o’ them there ’ere cavalry he’d have whipped Kilpatrick all to smash ; and that in the next war against tlie Yankees he In tended to raise a brigade of’em. Cross-examined by Mr. Stoveus: Q.—ls that aho mule, or a she mule? A. —It’s a he mule. 4- —You have monkeys in yoursliow, have you not? A.—l have. Q. —Have you ever heard any dis loyul remarks in relation to those mon-" keys ? A. —I can’t say that 1 have. 4- —Have you ever heard anything said in their presence? A.—A couple of young ladies were one day standing in front of the cage, and I heard one of them say it looked like a Freedmeu’s Bureau. 4- —How was the remark received? A. —It created much luughtur. 4- —Were there any personal allusions made on that occasion ? A. —Home one" in the crowd said, pointing to the ournng-outang, “ That’s Sumner.” Q.—Did that please the bystanders ? A.—Very much. 4. —Did you ever hear any observa tions about the bears ? A.—l heard it said, once about a one eyed bear that ho looked liked Ben. But ler, and about a grizzly that it ought to be called Ben. Wade. 4-—Were the points of resemblance stated ? A.—They wero not. The observation was made on tlie lout ensemble, with special reference, perhaps, to the ocular deformity in the case of tlie one-eyed animal. 4.—Have you side-shows with your circus ? A.—l have. 4-—State if you have ever heard dis loyal remarks in relation to them? A. —I believe I heard something of the kind once about Daniel In the lion’s den. 4-—State what it was. A.—A young lady asked me which was Daniel and which was the lion. 4.—What was your reply? A.—l told her it was easy to dis tinguish Daniel from the lion, as the former wore a swallow-tail coat, and had a cotton umbrella under his arm. 4- —What did she say? A.—After looking into the cage, Bhe said, very spitefully, thatDaniellooked like a mean Yankee, and she wished the Hon would chaw him up. .Votes of Overwork. Unwise above many is the man who considers every hour lost which is not spent in reading, writing, or study ; and not more rational is she who thinks every moment of her time lost which does not fiud her sewing. We once heard a man advise that a book of some kind be carried in the pocket, to be used of an unoccupied moment; such was ills practice. He died early. There are women who, after a hard day’s work, will sit and sew by candle or gas light till their eyes are almost blinded, or till certain pains about the shoulders come on, which are almost insupporta ble. and are only driven to bed by phys ical incapacity to work any longer. The sleep of the overworked, like those who do not work at all, is unsatisfying and unrefreshing, and both alike wake up in weariness,sadness, and languor with an inevitable result, both dying prema turely. Let no ono work in pain orwearlness. When a man Is tired, he ought to lie down till he is fully rested; when, with renovated strength, the work will be better done —done the sooner, and with self-sustained alacrity. Tbe time asked from seven or eight hours’ sleep out of each twenty-four is not gained, but time much more than lost. We can cheat ourselves, but we cannot cheat nature. A certain amount of food is necessary for a healthy body; but if less than the amount be furnished, de cay commences tiie very hour. It is the same with sleep. Any one who persists in allowing himself less than nature requires, will only hasten his. arrival to the madhouse or the grave. “ 1 love my Country.” [Senator Clark undertook to put on airs the other day, towards Mr. Sauls bury of Delaware, when the latter coolly told him “there was nothing in him, mentally, morally, physically, or otherwise, that gave him the right to use insolent language in the Senate.” A correspondent of tiie World says: As for Clark, he took ills correction, much as does a small boy who gets boxed for Impudence to a gentleman in the street, and then flies with a howl to. Ills mother. He admitted his imperfec tions, and claimed nothing mentally, physically or morally,but(wltha burst) “I do love my country,” he added. And why should not Clark “love my country” when “my country” notonly pays him his Bulaiy as Senator, with such pickings as mileage, stationery, franking public documents, seeds from the Agricultural Bureau, afid pots of plants by the boxful from the National Botanic Garden, but “my country”goes far towards supporting all the other members of Clark’s family. Clark’S son, a youth of eighteen, is doorkeeper of the reporters’ gallery in the Senate, and for that nominal service Clark’s boy receives 5100 a month —a round $l2OO for the year—for supposed services in session time, and for services when he is at school in New Hampshire. Clark’s nephew—another youth of ten der years—ls clerk of the Committee of claims, of which Clark is Chairman, at a salary of $l5OO per year. How many more salaried Clarks there are in and around the Senate chamber, the Con. Directory does not state; but is there any family in creation, or even' in Ndw England, that have more redson/to “love my country” than the Clark fam ily, the Clark family would do well to resign a few of their patriotic placesaind positions, and devote their attention to a general Bearoh for "rebels” in the South, (or the benefit of the Recons true- I tion Committee of fifteen. *:>
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers