.81u ianastar gateUlgimw, Published kyery Wednesday by H. G. SMITH & CO A. J. S'I'KI.X MAN H. G. Smith, TERMS— Two Dollars per annum, payable all cases In advance. OFFlCE—Southwest corner of Centre Square. letters on' business should be ad dressed to Cooper, Sanderson & Co. foetnj. The German’s Fatherland. I As some curios ty has been ovoEed by quota tions from Arndt’s famous sons of tlie “Ger man Fatherland,” we give the spirited English version of James Clarence Magau: Where is thqGerman No >-y.“f mnre'anlT lu'r'mm-e praud Must be tin* German s 1-athcrl.unl . How call thev then the German lanu art: sung— There, -utllani i.rothei, Ida- thy stand ! This is i lie German's Fatherland! i- ills iikc address ed herself was jaunty and middle-aged. He was head clerk of the extensive es tablishment of Huntley A Warner, and extremely consequential—in manner. “ This dressing gown we value at six dollars—you shall have it at live, as trade is dull to-day." “ Five dollars!" Alice looked, at the dressing gown longingly, and the clerk looked at her. He saw that her clothes though made and worn genteely, were common enough in texture, and that her face was very much out of the common line. 4 Jiow il.changed! now shaded, now lighted, hy 'the varied play of her emo tions. The clerk could almost have sworn that she had no more than that sum, live dollars, in her possession. Tim gown was a very good one for tlie price, it was of common shade, a tolerable merino, and lined with the same material. “ 1 think”—she hesitated a moment, “I think I’ll take it," she said; then seeing in the lace beiore her an expres sion :dic did not like, she blushed as she handed out the lull the cieik hail made up his mind to take. “.Jentiis," cried Torrent, tlie head clerk, in a quick, pompous tone, ‘‘pass up the hank note detector.” Up ran the tow headed hoy with the detector, and down ran the clerk’s eye from column to column. Then lie looked over with a sharp glance, and exclaimed : “ That's a counterfeit hill, Miss.” “Counterfeit ! Oh, no—it cannot be! The man who sent it could not have been so careless; you must be mistakeu, sir." v “ I am lj-ot mistaken ; I’m never mis taken, Miss. This hill is a counterfeit. I must presume, ot course, that you did not know it, although so much bad money lias been ollered us ot late that . ive intend to secure such persons as pass it. Who did you say sent it?" \ “M r . c , sir, of New York. He could not semi me bad money," said the trembling, frighted girl. “Humph!" said the clerk. “Well, there’s no doubt about this; you can look for yourself. Now don’t let me see you he.e again until you can bring good money, for we always suspect such persons as you that come on dark days with a well made story." “ Jsul, sir ” , “ You need make jio exclamations, Miss, said the man insultingly. “ Take your hill, and next time you want to buy a dressing gown, don't try to pass youreounterl'eitmoiiey,” and lie handed it, the bill fell from his hands. Alice caught it from the lloor and hurried into the street. Sueh a shock the girl had never re ceived. She hurried L> a bauking establishment, lound her way in, and presented the note to a noble looking man with gray hair, faltering out, “ is this hill a bad one, sir?” The cashier and his son happened to be the only persons present. JJoth no ticed her extreme youth, beauty, and ugiLation. The cashier looked closely and handed it back, as with a polite bow and some what prolonged’look, he said : “ It’s agood bill, youug lady.” “ I knew it was,” cried Alice, with a quivering lip— “and he dared—” She could go no farther, but entirely overcome, she bent her head, and the hot tears had their way. “I beg pardon, you had any trouble with it?” asked the cashier. “ Oh, sir, you will excuse me for giv ing way to my feelings —but you spoke so kinuiy, and i felt so sure that it was good. And I think, sir, such men as one of the clerks in ] luntly & Warner’s should be removed. He told me* it was counterfeit, and added something that lamgladiny father did not hear. 1 knew the publisher would not send me bad money.” “ Who is your father, young lady?’ asked the cashier, becoming interested “ Mr. Benjamin Locke, sir.” “Benjamin —Ben. Locke--was he eve n clerk in the Navy department Washington ?” “ Yes sir we removed from there. replied Alice. “ Since then"—she lies, tilted—“ he has not been well —and we are somewhat reduced. Oh why do I tell these things sir?” “lien. Locke reduced!” murmured the cashier; “ the man who was the making ol' me! (live me his number ami street, my child. Your lather was one of the best, perhaps the only friend, I hud. I have not forgotten him. No. 4 Liberty street. 1 will call this even ing. Meantime let me have the bill let me see—l'llgiveyou another. Since I come to look, I liavn't got a five— here’s a ten ; we’ll make it all right.” That evening the inmates of a shabby genteel liou.se received the cashier of the M Lank. Mr. Locke, a man of gray hair, though numbering but fifty years, rose from liis arm chair, and much ulfected, greeted the familiar face. The son of Hie cashier accompanied him, and while the elders talked to gether, Alice and the young man grew quite chatty. 11 Yes, sir, I have been unfortunate,” said Mr. Locke in a low tone. “ I have just recovered, as you see, from rheu matic lever, caused by undue exertion —and had it not been for that sweet girl of mine, I know not what I should have done. She, by giving lessons in music and French, and by writing for periodicals ; has kept me, so far, above want.” “ You shall not want, my old friend,” said the cashier. “It was a kind Provi deuce that sent your daughter to me. There's u place in the bank just made vacant by death of a valuable clerk, and it is at your disposal. It is my gift and valued at twelve hundred a year; Pen cannot describe the joy with which this kind offer was accepted. Lancaster JintclluKncrr. VOLUME 6T. The day of deliverance had come. * * * * * * * On the following morning the cashier entered the handsome store of Huntly & Warner, and inquired for the head clerk. He came obsequiously. “ Sir,” said the cashier, sternly, “is that a bad note?” “I—l think not, sir,” stammeringly replied the clerk. The cashier went to the door. From his carriage stepped ayoung girl in com pany with his daughter. “ Did you not tell this young lady, my ward, that this note was counter feit?” And did you not so forget self respect, and the interestofyouremploy ers, as to oiler an insult?” Tlie man stood confounded —he dared not deny—he could say nothing for himself. “If your employers keep you, sir, they will no longer have my custom,” said theeashier, sternly. “ You deserve to lie horsewhipped, sir.” Tlie firm parted with their unworthy clerk that very day, and lie left tlie store disgraced, hut punished justly. Alice Locke became the daughter of the good cashier. All of which grew out of calling a genuine hill counterfeit. EFFIE’S TRIAL. From dawn to dusk you might have heard tlie clang of Merrick 'Masters' hummer on tlie auvil of Hammersly. Often long after tlie dusk of tlie winter's day, have I watched the golden sparks as they Hew away iuto outer darkness, thru' the wide open door, like so many long imprisoned spirits, just set free after years of bottling up. And ever and always, while work was doing un der tin- sloping roof, 1 could hear a sort ol anvil chorus, eitherwhistled or sung by tlie rich voice of Merrick Masters. Jf it had only so happened that some musical enthusiast hud come across Merrick Masters in his boyhood, as such a one is said to have met Jenny Liud, singing by tlie wayside, there need have been no anvil work for him, and in stead of toiling for pence and shillings, fortunes might have been showered upon him, and critics might have talked about his ‘ chestnotes,’ and beautiful members of upper tendom have Hung bouquets at him, and even penned him love letters on the sly, as Lhuy are fond of doiug too well, to no matter whom, at the opera. No musical enthusiast, however, (same to llammersly, and it is doubtful if any body suspected Merrick of being amusi cul genius, unless, indeed, it wastheold parson, who had requested him tomake one of the church choir, where he bel lowed as gloriously as any basso pro liin.lo who ever shook the walls oi tlie Academy of Music, aud apologized for it to the owner of tlie shrill soprano, (rallier cracked) yeclept Miss Kquiggs. “He didn’t mean to go a drownding ladies’ voices, but when lie got a going lie couldn’t help getting too loud. It was tlie fault, he reckoned, of the black smithing.” The deep snow was white on the ground one December eve, and the golden sparks rushed from tiie elaugiug anvil faster than ever, and the song to wliieh tlie strokes kept timewere louder and clearer, when somebody leading a horse stopt at tlie forge door and looked through witli an eye that took in the picturesque scene at a glauce. “ liy Jove, its like some of those old Dutch pictures,” muttered a voice under a golden moustache. “ I’d paint it if I was an artist.” Then in a louder tone. “Hallo, young fellow, my horse has lost a shoe, aud J waut it looked to im mediately.” Tlie “young fellow ” dropped his hammer and strode toward tlie dopr, aud ill another moment horse and mas ter stood beneath the forge roof. Then as Merrick Masters bent dowu to look at the foot of tlie splendid animal, the rider, as splendid a personage iu his way, sauntered to the fire and stood basking in its genial warmth, and shaking oil' tlie feathery Hakes that clung to his shoulders. A light-haired, blue-eyed exquisite, as great a contrast to tlie brown Hercules of the forge as can .well be imagined, though in his way Merrick was very handsome. Just as the blacksmith's whistle be gun to play about tlie hoof he was shoe ing, aud while tlie stranger was stand ing with his back toward the fire, ad- miring the light and shadow on the wall, steps came tripping through the snow, and a girl with a shawl over her head, came dancing in from the shadow. “ Tea Will be cold, Merrick,” she said, “ and your mother says”— There she stopped, covered with con fusion at the sight of a stranger—one too who stood looking at her as uncon cernedly as lie might at a picture. Certainly she was well worth looking at, a pure brunette, with large brown eyes and cheeks like a rose, with lashes long, curling like a child’s and a buxom, form where notauangle was visible. It was only a moment that she stood with her red shawl slipping from lier black hair, in tlie full glow of the firelight— the next moment she was gone, and the stranger turned to the blacksmith. “ A pretty girl that, your sister?” “ No, I’m glad to say,” replied the blacksmith. ‘'Glad? Why?” “ Because she’ssomething better than a sister to me,” replied Merrick. “We are to be married in May.” Then out rung the whistle again, shrill and clear, and the stranger asked no more questions, He paid Merrick for his work, and rode away a few moments afterward, and for all the blacksmith knew or cared they had s en the last of each other. He washed his hands and went into the great kitchen, where at the tea table sat his mother and the girl who sum moned him—an orphan who had lived with the old woman for years, ever since she was a child in. fact; and had grown into Ills heart somehow, before lie knew it. Tlie old woman was quite displeased when she found it out, fop-Kllie was only ” ibe help,” and tlie blacksmith's widow and the blacksmith’s mother felt proud to say that “ none of our peo ple ever hired out.” “ But for all that there are people in this village, who look down ou us be cause I shoe their horses and mend their wagons.” ‘‘More fools they to lake ou airs,” said tlie old woman. “So say I,” said Merrick, ‘‘and we would be as bad as they to look down on Eilie for washing our dishes. She’s as good as you, and a deal better than me, rich or poor.” And Merrick Masters had his way and tlie whole place knew they were en gaged in a fortnight. Sow when he went into tea the first question both asked him was about his customer. “ Elbe says lie’s the handsomest man she ever saw,” says the old woman. ‘‘So. he is,” said Merrick, not one whit jealous, “ but who he is I don’t know. He came and went, and had his horse shod, that’s all I know, and he asked me who you were, Ellle.” 11 And I had this dreadlul old apron ou too,” said Effie. " He didn’t notice that I guess,” said Merrick. “ Why not.” Merrick laughed. “ Oh, do tell me?” “ Well, he asked who the pretty girl was.” Elbe hid her face in her apron, and Mrs. Masters turned her head. She never quite admitted Effie’s beauty. “ What notions to put in the girl's head,” she thought; and it was a pity, for Elbe was vain enough already. A greater pity, too, because whenever a horseman galloped uptotheforge there after, she ran out, under some pretext, hoping it was the handsome gentleman who had ask”d ‘‘who that pretty girl was.” Not that she meant any harm, but to be called a pretty girl by such a man was something glorious. She saw him at last, and there was a look, a smile and a bow, and after that, somehow they kept meeting. Btill no harm in ltatall, only Effiedid not mention the fact to Merrick or to his mother; and Effie learned that he was a Mr. Noreland, stopping at the great hotel in the village, ana guessed that he was rich and fashionable. Often she saw him riding with ele gantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, but he always seemed the most elegant of all to her ; and by and by she fell to contrasting Merrick with him, and wishing that Heaven had made him like Mr. Noreland. From that she went on to wish that she was a lady herself, and that some body else was in her place, and to feel above the forge and the cottage kitchen and the blacksmith, and his mother, who had thought her below herson, be cause she was the “ help.” One day Mr. Noreland found her shedding tears in a quiet little spot where they were in the habit of meet ing by accident, and would have the reason. “ It’s nothing—only I’m tired,” said Effie. Mr. Noreland drew close to her. “ Tired,” said he, “no wonder; you are too good for that sort of thing; too good to work in a kitchen and wear cotton gowns— and too good to be a blacksmith’s wife. It’s no use iu deny ing it—you know you are.” “Oh, hush,” said Ettie, “Merrick is the best man in the world, I’m sure I’m not tired of Merrick.” “ Oh, of course not,” said Noreland, “and we can’t help our feeliugs,” and ne sighed. Then he whispered a good deal that Effie could not understand entirely, but she knew it was very line and senti mental, as he quoted poetry aud made great eyes at her. Out of a hovel, the girl was sure no one ever was so charm ing, and she went home with the firm conviction that if she chose she might jilt the blacksmith’s son, and marry the line young gentleman. From feeling sure she could, she be gan to wonder whether Merrick cared much about her, and to leel sure that Noreland loved her better ihau his life —and a sharp word from Mrs. Masters finished it. Something had gone to waste in the storeroom, and tlie old lady iussed and fumed about it as she always did. “Them as has nothing is allers the most wasteful,” said she “ you’d orter remember that you’re to be married to a man that has something to manage and to take care of. There’s Ueggy Grey, never lets a bit spoil, and darns and patches, and makes and mends year in ami year out. l>ut she’s got S'lonu in .the bank, besides what will come toiler when the old man dies ; and she want took,in on charily. 1 w:hi Merrick had took a fancy to her." “ :Say good bye, and let him do so now," said Noreland when the girl had told him her new trouble. “Ah, but I have no other friends, aud no other home to go to," sighed Edit*. “ You have," said Nurelaud, “alriend who will never cease to love you, and a home such as you deserve. Share my home and my life, El lie." Then lie put his arms around her and kissed her, ami called her loving names, aud she promised him all that he asked of her. She was to meet him on Monday eve- ning at a milliner’s shop iu the village, aud there they were to take a carriage aud go to meet the train. The first practicable moment they were to be married, and after that their bliss was to liave iiu end. “ Anil as for the blacksmith," sneered Noreland, “he can have Leggy, you know, so you need not fret about him, For all that, Efiie’s conscience smote lier when Merrick was kinder than usual, and so full of joy, as the time was now near at hand when she was to be his wife, as they sat together on tlie porch on that Sunday, and when Mon day came she broke china and made more blunders generally than had ever been laid to her charge in years before. Mrs. Masters thought that tlie girl quite knew how mat! poor Eiiie really was. Tea was on the table and Mrs. Mas* ters busy with some dish she prided herself upon, and thesoundof Merrick’s whistle grew louder every instant as he tripped homeward from the forge, when she slipped up to her room,and putting on her tilings, slipped down the back stairway, and away toward tlie village. If Mrs. Masters missed her, she knew that she would be only too glad to have her son to herself for a little while, and there was no probability of Merrick’s following her. .But it was hard to choke the tears down as she plodded through the long green—for the snow had gone long ago, and it was summer now—and she only made herself brave by the thought that Noreland would die if she did not keep ler promise. “ i couldn’t break his heart,” she said ,o herself, “even if I could bear U: marry another.” She reached the milliner’s shop at last, and went to talk to one of the girls. The plan was that when Noreland was ready he was to show himself at the door for a moment, and she was to go out to meet him and say “good bye” just as if she was going home. Elbe sal with one eye on the glass door which opened from the work room to the shop, while she tried to chat care lessly ; in a few momentsshesawaman enter from the street —not Noreland, but qf all the people in the world, Mer rick Masters. Her first thought was that he had followed her, but in an instailt she saw that he had business of his own. He spoke some words to the mistress of the shop, and she brought a bandbox. Of course the bonnet was a surprise for her, and it smote her to the heart to remember that she should be miles away before her birthday dawned. I’oor Mer rick ! would he feel badly, and it was cruel of her. As she thought thus, the door opened again, letting Merrick out with two bundles in his hand, and two ladies ill from the hotel, whom she had often seen riding with Norelaud. They asked for ribbons, and wenton with their talk while examining them. “ Who was that person standing be fure the door?” “ Oh, Norelaud.” “1 thought so. How oddly he be haved. lie didn't seem to want us to see “ Perhaps lie didn’t, he has his secrets, I expect. One of them is that flirtation with the blacksmith’s girl.” “ Shocking ! .Some one ought to write to Mrs. Noreland.” “ Poor thing, she is used to it. Aou know she’sjquite middle aged and plain, aud he married her for her money. Pie’s been at his pranks ever since. Actually, my dear, he ran away with a girl last summer. The brothertried to shoot him and she drowned herself. It was a shock- ing scrape. If 1 had such a husband as Noreland, I'd have a divorce.” “So would I, I hope it wont come to that with the blacksmith’s girl, she’s a very pretty creature.” “Mrs. Print, I’ll take four yardsof the blue.” Tlie ribbon was cutoff, and the ladies took their departure. Elbe sat thunderstruck. They had been talking of Norelaud. He was married already, and so could never mean to marry her. What did he mean then. Aud as she asked herself the question, the truth flashed over her mind, and she saw the pit of shame and dishonor at her feet. Love her! oh no, no, thought Eflie. It is hate, not love, or he would not wish to wrong me so. Then as she shrank from the memory of his false words and falser smiles, the honest face of the blacksmith rose before her, and in truth and tenderness it grew plain to her, and she was saved. She left the girl with whom she had been chatting, abruptly, and rau out of the store. All she prayed was. not to meet Noreland, and fear lent wings to her feet. She turned her face toward the forge, and had reached the cross road when a wagon stood across her path—Merrick’s wagon—and he was hard by chatting to a farmer over a gate. She heard his voice, and saw the dusky outline of lilb form, but she dared not speak to him yet. She clambered up into the wagon and hid there crying softly. The bandbox he had been to get was there on the seat and she kissed it as she crouched be hind it, thinking of his kindness. Then peeping out she saw some one sauntering up the road to the milliner’s. It was Noreland; but the sight only made her shudder. LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 15; 1866. Ten minutes after Merrick was driv ing on again, and heard a little noise behind him. He gave a sudden start. “ What’s that?” he cried. “ Only me—Effie,” saida voice. Then she crept up to him. . “How did you come here?” he in quired. “ i saw the wagon on the road and got in,” she said. “Oh Merrick, I’m so frightened. It’s so lonesome and dark and wretched there. I’m so glad we are going back to the forge.” So she was. He never knew how glad, for she never told him all, nor why’, until years after, when they had been married for years, aud the strong love that comes with married life, had grown up between them, she used to start up from her sleep, sometimes, in terror, andclingto nim sobbing, “thank Clod, I’m back again at the forge.” s%ceUattmt£. “So Women Were Saved.'’ It’rom :he Natchez Courier.] “ Not a woman saved !” If your ships are uuseawortbv ; if togaiu a few more dollars, Yankee'thrift builds them with so much to]) hamper that a gale endan gers tlie life, or insures the death of hundreds; where at least is the disci pline of your officers and ‘.crew, which ought to guarantee to a weak woman a share in tlie miserable safeguards that stinginess aii'ords, and which without that discipline brute force inevitably seizes ? Officers and crew saved in part, but “not a woman saved!” Engineer and purser in one boat, with crew, but no woman ; and tlie purser lives to tell the tale ! Tlie captain and sixteen men and only one woman ami one child, on another boat! Fortunately, to avoid meeting tlie shaking of locks gory with the death-water of tlie sea caves, tile captain of the ill-lated steamer, after six struggles alter life, lias goue to meet, before another than earthly tribunal, the question propounded. Why was not a woman saved?” Was there uot one among tlie crowd, of whose memory it may yet lie said, Among tin? fuitnli-ss, fsiitliful only l*o !' Some fifty years ago or more, a ship sailed from Liverpool with many pas sengers. Just after midnight, when littie past the center of the Atlantic:, the Jupiter struck an ice island, causing her to settle almost instantly into the awful water. She was badly provided with boats, but such as they were, ami all of them, were at once launched in silence and in order. Every passenger that was awake was summoned to the boats. Discrimination was used, for the boats could not hold all. Let th'ose that are awake save their lives? Let those that sleep, pass to the sleep of death !—-was the terrific, hut merciful decree. Sleep is but the precursor, the portal, the simile of the great enemy of life ! There can be no pang in dying to the sweet and unconscious sleeper. So every wake person was summoned ; every sleeping person left to wake an eternity ! The two boats already over-crowded ; the evoted ship fast sinking. Again .he Captain went to forecastle, to steer age, to cabin, and ou deck, to see if one conscious passenger still was left uu hvided for. Notone! “ Push oil'your boats,” was the solemn order. ‘‘But where’s my sister?” screamed a voiceof despair from one of the boats; “ I see her not, ami I would die to save her.” “She sleeps. I would not awaken her. One person more in, and the lives of ail are endangered,” replied the ('aptain from the deck of the foundering ship. “ Then I sleep with her, if I can not save her,” uttered the heroic brother, as he sprang upon the fast settling vessel; and he and site and the ship went down together, with the great Ocean's hymns testifying to an heroic devotion and a self sacrifice cradled in affection, and dying to meet an immor tality ! “Not a woman saved” from the Evening Star! What a contrast ! We cannot recall thename of the ves- sel, because, cut off from the world, the Southern Slates, for four years bucK, have little chronology left; but not many years since, a British transport founderedin thedeep Atlantic. She was crowded with soldiers, their wives, and women and children. Discipline pre vailed, however, in the awlul scene where a half thousand were summoned to death 1 Every boat was launched and guarded ; every woman and child was conducted to the gangway and se curely deposited ; as if the boats had been ball-rooms, and the seamen the ushers! The boats were pushed adrift; eaeli soldier repaired to his post; each sailor to his place; ami with drums beating and fifes playing, alula solitary gun booming a farewell to earth and skv, tlie ship aud its officers aud crew went down; the British flag Hying go ing down with them.butcoveringthem with its cross of glory 1 There was dis cipline; there was seamanship ; gener alship, heroism 1 The gurgling waves told to the mute heavens the story of devotion, and the Itecording Angel coxiied it from the heavens upon the Great Book of God. Not a woman, not a child was lost 1 laughable Scene—betting Aboard ii a Hurry. The New Lisbon Jlurkcije Sidle writes up, in the following graphic style, a little incident that occurred at the Salem Railroad a few mornings since : A traveler bound for Cincinnati, where he had business of importance to transact, had rested over night with his wife at the Broadway Hotel, in order to be sure to hit the morning train which leaves at an early our. In the morning the traveler was asleep. His lady has arisen, awakened him, dressed herself aud gone down to breakfast, ex pecting her lord to follow her without delay. While eating hastily and scold ing mentally, in view of the husband's tardiness, she heard the whistle of the locomotive. Rushing frantically up stairs, her horror may be imagined when on opening the bed-room door, a snore from the conj ugal sluggard saluted her ear. A slight scream and a rough shake awoke him. He heard the whistle!— Pulling on his boots, he hastily gather ed in his arms the rest of his attire, and pushing the lady before him, put for the train at a two-forty gait dressed only in boots and shirt 1 The twain reached the depot. Throwing all but his shirt upon the platform, the lady hurriedly sought to obtain tickets at the office, while the husband proceeded to clothe himself with his No. 1 gar ment. While it was yet fluttering over his head, the whistle again sounded maliciously, and oil' started the train. The unfortunate creature en tered the car, his flesh having a .pimpled goose-like appearance, while his blush ing lady spreading out her crinoline like the sacred veil of charity, converted herself into a screen, that his nakedness might be hidden from his fellow travel ers. The other female passenger, putting her hand overhereyes, with her fingers spread wide apart declared that before she turned herheadin another direction, that it was shocking 1 And so, we sup pose, it must have been to the unlucky wight who had to make such aspectacle of himself. A Salt Lake correspondent says: The exceeding plainness, not to say ugliness, of the Mormon women is a fact that has been commented upon by almost all the different visitors to Salt Lake City, as indeed it was impossible for the most cursory observer to avoid noticing it; but although often men tioned, I doubt if justice has ever been done the subject, which appears to be one of those general rules to which there are very few, if any, exceptions. Secretary Seward’s Views. The Secretary of State, in a brief letter addressed to a friend In Auburn, New York, reiterate his opinion “that the delay in the restoration of the organism of the nation is a great error, truitful only of danger, and that continually." He advises his friends to “ persevere in the correction of that error. ’ The Mormon Women, Artemas Ward In London. Mr. Punch— My Dear Sir: It is seldim' that the Commercial relations between Great Britain and the United States is mar’d by Games. It is Commerce, after ail, which will keep the two countries friendly to'ard each other rather than statesmen. I look at your last Parliament, and I can't see that a single speech was en cored during the entire session. Look at Congress—but no, I’d rather not look at Congress. Entertainiu this great regard forCorn merce, “ whose sales whiten every sea,” as every body happily observes every chance he gets, I learn with disgust and surpise that a British subjeck bo’t a Barril of Apple Sass in America recent ly, and when he arrove home he found under a few delopsive layers of sass nothin but saw dust. I should have in si -.antly gone into the city ami called a meetin of the leadin commercial men to condemn and repudiate, as a Ameri- can, this gross frawd, if I hadn’t learned at the same time that the draft given by the British subjeck in payment for this frawdylent sass was drawd onto a Bankin House in Londonwhich doesn’t have a existence, but far otherwise, and never did. There is those wholarfat these things, but to me they merit rebooks and With the exception of my Uncle Wilyim—who, as I’ve before stated, is a uncle by marrige only, who is a low cuss, aud filled his coat pockets with pies aud biled eggs at hisweddin break fast, given to him by ray father, and made the clergyman as united him a present of my father’s new overcoat, and when my father on discoverin it got iu a rage and denounced him, Uncle Wilyim said the old man (meanin my parent) hadn’t any idee of first-class Humor! —with the exception of this wretched uncle, the escutchin of my fam’ly has never been stained by Games. The little harmless deceptions I resort to in my perfeshion I do not call Games. They are sacrifisses to Art. I come of a very clever fam’ly. The Wards is a very clever farn’ly, indeed. 1 believe we are descendid from the Puritins, who nobly lied from a land of despotism to a land of freedim, where they could not only enjoy their own religion, but prevent every body else from enjoyiu his. As I said before, we are a very clever family. 1 was strollin up Regent street the other day, tliinkin what a clever fam’ly I come of, and lookin at the gay shop- winders. I’*e got some new close since you last saw me. I saw them others wouldn’t do. They carried the observer too far hack into the dim vister of the past, and I gave ’em to a Orfuu Asy lum. The close I wear now I bot of Mr. Moses, in the Commercial Road. They was expressly made, Mr. Moses informed me, for a noble man, but as they fitted him too muchly, partie’ly the trows’rs (which is blue, with large red and white checks), he had said, “My dear feller, make me some more, only mind —be sure you sell these to some genteel old feller.” 1 like to saunter thro’ Regent street. The shops are pretty, aud it does the old man’s heart good to see the troops of fine healthy girls which one may always see there at certain hours in the afternoon, who don’t spile their beauty by devourin cakes and sugar things, as too many of the American and French lassies do. It’s a mistake about every body being outof town, Iguess. Regent street is full. I’m here ; and, as I said before, I come of a very clever fam’ly. As I was walkin along, amoosin my self by stickin my penknife into the calves of the footmen who stood waitin by the swell-coaches, (not one of whom howled with anguish,) I was accosted by a man of about thirty-five summers, who said : “ I have seen that facesome wheres afore!” He was a little shabby in his wearin apparil. His coat was one of those black, shiny garments, which you can always tell have been burnished by ad versity; but he was very gentlemanly. “Was it iu the Crimea, comrade? Yes, it was. It was at the stormiu of Sebastopol, where I had a narrow escape from death, that we met!” 1 said, “ No, I wasn’t at Sebastopol. I escaped a fatal wound by not bein there. It was a healthy old fortress,” I added. “It was. lint it fell. It came down with a crash.” “And plucky boys they was who brought her down, and hurrah for them.” The man graspt me warmly by the hand, and said he had been in America, Upper Canada, Africa, Asia Minor, and other towns, and he’d never met a man he liked as much as he did me. "Let us,” headded, “ totheshrineof’Bachus!" and he dragged me into a public house. I was determined to pay, so I said, “ Mr. Baclnis, give this genT’man what lie calls for.” We conversed there in a very pleasant manner till my dinner time arrove, when the agree'ble gentleman insisted that I should dine witli him. “We’ll have a banquet, sir, lit for the gods!” I told him good plain vittles would soot me. If the gods wanted to have the dyspepsy, they was welcome to it. We had soup and fish and a hot jint, and growsis, and wines of rare and costly vintage. We had ices, and we had l'roots from Greenland’s icy moun tin's and Injy’s coral strands; and when the sumptuous reparst was over, the agree’ble man said he’d unfortnitly left nis pocket book at home on the marble center table. “But, by Joye!” he said, “itwasa feasttit for the gods!” I said, “ Oh, never mind,” and drew out my puss; tho’ I in’ardly wished tiie gods, as tiie dinner was fit for ’em, was there to pay for it. I come of a very clever fam’ly. The agree'ble gentleman then said : “Mow, I will show you our Club. It dates back to tiie time of William tiie Conqueror.” “ Did Bill belong to it?” I inquired. “ He did.” “Wall,” 1 said, “ if Billy was one of ’em, I need no other indorsement as to its respectfulness, and I’ll go with you, my gay trooper boy!” And we went of! arm-in-arm. On the way the agree’ble man told me that the Club was called the Slosli ers. He said I would notice that none of ’em appeared in evenin' dress. He said it was agin the rools of the Club. In fack, of any member appeared there in evenin’ dress, he be instantly expeld. “ Andyit,” he added, “there’s geneyus there, and lorfty emotions, and intel leck. You’ll be surprised at the quanti ties of intelleck you’ll see there.” We reached the Sloshers in due time, and I must say there was a shaky lookin lot, and the public house where they convened was certainly none of the best. The Sloshers crowded round me, and said I was welcome. “ What a beauti ful brestpin you've got,” said one of ’em. “ Permit me," and he took it out of my neckercher. “ Isn’t it luvly? " he said, parsin it to another, who parsed it to another. It was given me by Aunt, on my promlsin her I’d never swear profanely; and I never huve, except on very special occasions. I see that beautiful boosum pin a parsin from one Slosher to another, and I’m re minded of them sad words of the poit, " parsin away! parßin away !" I never saw it no more. Then in comes a ath letic female, who no sooner sees me than she utters a wild yell, and cries: “At larst! at larst! My Wilyim from the seas!” I said, “ Not at all, marm. Not on no account, I have heard the boatswain pipe to quarters—but a voice in my heart didn't whisper Seu-zan ! I've be layed the marllnspikes on the upper jibpoop, but Seu-zan's eyes wasn't on me. Young woman, I am not you're Baler boy. Far different.” “Oh yes, you are!” she howled, seizin me round the neck. “ O how' I’ve lookt forwards to this meetln !” “ And you’ll presently,” I said, "have an opportunity of lookin backwards to It, because I’m on thepintofleavin this institution.” } I will here observe that I come of a yery clever family. A very clever faml’y Indeed- “Where,” I tried, as I struggled in vain to release myself from the eccen tric female’s claws, “ where is the Capt ing—the man who was into the Crimea, amidst the cannon’s thunder? I want him.” He came forward, and cried, “ What do I see? Me sister! me sweet Adu laide! and in teers. Williu !” he scream ed, “and you’re the serpent as I took to ’my bosum, and borrowed money of and went round with, and was cheerful with, are you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself?” . ' Somehow my coat was jerked on, the brest-pocket of which contained m3 T pocket-book, and it passed away like the brest-piu. Then they sorter quietly hustled me into the street. It was about 12 at night when I reached the Greenlion. “Ha! ha! you sly old rascal, you’ve been up to larks!” said the lan’lord, larfin loudly, and digging his fists into my ribs. I said, “ Bigsby, if you do that again, I shall hit you! Much as I respect you and your excellent fam’ly, I shall dis figger your benevolent countenance for life!” “ What has ruffled your spirits, friend?’ said the lan’lord. “My spirits has been rufiled!” I an swered in a bitur voice, “by a viper who was into theX'hrimea. What good was it,” I cried, “for Sebastopol to fall down without enwelopin in its rooins that viper?” I then went to bed. I come of a very clever fam’ly. Artemus Ward. Extraordinary Oratorical Feat A Legislator Speaks for Seventeen Con seentive Honrs. One of the most remarkable feats of endurance in a speaker which we ever remember to have heard of comes to us from Victoria, Vancouver’s Island, says the Kxamincr. Iu the Legislative As sembly of that place, we are told that Mr. Leonard McClure spoke for seven teen hours without pausing or sitting down. To those who are unacquainted with the circumstances, this feat might not appear proper to he placed iu the same category with the exertions of those ambitious pedestrians who, for wagers, walked a thousand miles iu a thouand hours. It may easily he sup posed that McClure’s speech could not have been a master- piece of oratory, nor is it likely that his inducement was greater than that which moved Edmund Jiurke when, at the trial of Warren Hastings, after pouring out for fourteen hours a torrent of impassioned elo quence, tlie majestic mind collapsed under the force of physical fatigue, and lie fell fainting iu the arms of Sheridan. Hut we know of no instance of stub born tenacity equal to this of Mr. Mc- Clure, and the cause was one which should make him famous in the annals of the British colonies. A year ago a large quantity of laud in and about Victoria was seized by the Government for arrears of taxes, and was by it held on .the understanding, expressed;and published, that the owners could have and repossess their lots by paying tlie taxes due within a twelve mouth after their seizure. But it be came known a few days before the ex piration of the allotted term that a plot was on foot, hatched by the Govern ment anti backed by a venal majority in the House of Assembly, to pass a bill authorizing the Executive to repu diate its contracts with the land-owners, refusing to accept payment of arrears, ami seizing upon aud retaining per manently tlie disputed lots. Two men in the House opposed the measure. Their names were Amos de Comes and Leonard McClure. ’They knew that they had nothing to hope from their compeers or from the Government, ami they prepared themselves accordingly. ’File House had made up its mind, with these two exceptions, to rush through this obnoxious bill on tlie day before the twelvemonth expired. There was but one way to prevent this, aud it was adopted resolutely. On tlie house being opened, Mr. MeCluie rose to his feet, the time being noon, aud kept tlie lloor until o o’clock next moruiug. For seventeen hours he con tinued to speak, while every effort was made by the purchased majority to put him down and tire him out. With a merciless unanimity they refused to allow him to lean against tlie table, to put liia foot upon a chair for a moment, to relieve himself from the irksomeness of Ills position by resting his hand upon anything, or to speak, in short, in any other than a rigidly erect aud unsup ported attitude. During tile whole of the time they relieved each other at intervals, going out and procuring such refreshments as they needed, and always leaving a quorum in the house. McClure sank exhausted into his seat, as ihe light of another morning was stealing into tiie windows of the assembly house, De Comos rose, and fortheremainingseveu hours of tiie twenty-four talked against time. On rising, amid tiie groans and hisses of the disgusted and infuriated majority, lie exclaimed with more force than refinement, that it was useless for honorable members to evince their alice in that manner, for he had gql up with the determination to talk, if necessary, "until the angel Gabriel sounded the last trump.” His powers of endurance were not quite so severely tested, but tiie end was achieved, and when the clock struck twelve, the worn and wearied champions of honesty looked round with pardonable exulta tion upon the blank faces of a bought and beaten assembly. Theodore Parker in one of his ser mons uttered the following remarks touching women : There are three classes of women : First, domestic drudges who are wholly taken up in the material details of their house-keeping and child-keep ing. Their house-keeping is a trade, and no more ; and after they have done that there is no more which they can do. In New England it is a small class, getting less every year. Next, there are domestic dolls, wholly taken up with the vain show that delights the eye and ear. They are ornaments of the estate. .Similar toys, I suppose, will one day be more cheaply manufactured at Paris; Neremberg, at Frankfort-on-tlie-Main, and other toy shops in Europe, out of wax, papier-mache, and sold in Boston at tiie harberdasher’s by the dozen. These ask nothing beyond their func tions as dolls, and hate all attempts to elevate womankind. But there are domestic women, who order a house, and are not mere drudges, adorn it and are not mere dolls, but women. Some of these—a great many of them conjoin the useful of the drudge and tiie beautiful of the doll, into one womanhood, and have a great deal left besides. They are wholly taken up with their functions as housekeeper, wife and mother. Tlic Southwest. An old planter in Vicksburg writes that the present winter is destined to witness the most severe distress through out all the Southern country. In that region the crops have failed to such an extent that it has taken all the product of the cotton crop to pay the rent, leaving the merchant who furnished the supplies to the planter, and the planter himself, without a cent. A planter on the Yazoo who put three hundred acres in cotton hatl only a dozen bales as the result in crop, and this, with hiß mules, was seized for debt. Another planter, also on the Yazoo, bad 300 acres plan ted, and his yield was twenty bales. _ The very best crop known on the Yazoo will not produce this season, more than one-third of a bale to the acre, while the crop of the entire State is put down at only 100,000 bales, against 1,009,000 in 1859. Despite these drawbacks, however, most of the lessees of plantations from the North had concluded to remain for another year, believing that the failures just witnessed have been caused by circumstances beyond human control, and that next year there will be a bet ter chance of success. NUMBER 45 The Conspiracy to Hang Jeff. Paris. Arrest of One of the Conspirators. Interesting: Batch of Affidavits. | From the N. Y. Herald, Nov. 2.1 In the recent exposure in the Herald of a conspiracy to hang JelF. Davis as a party concerned in the assassination of President Lincoln our readers will re- member that a man named Sanford Conover, alias Charles A. Dunham, figured as one of the principal characters iu the plot. Conover was the chiei agent of Judge Advocate General Holt and procured for him certain witnesses, who for a consideration swore falsely to matters tending to implicate Jeff. Davis in the murder of Mr. Lincoln. The ex posure of this conspiracy and the cor respondence between Judge Advocate General Holt, and his tool Conover produced a tremendous fluttering among Washington officials and politicians of the radical school at the time, but the excitement gradually wore away. ARREST OF ONE OF THE CONSPIRATORS. We are likely now to have a revival of the excitement growing out of the arrest of one of the conspirators on a charge of subornation of perjury in connection with the conspiracy inques tion. The authorities at Washington having been convinced of the truth of the Herald exposure have at length, through the agency of L. C. Turner, Judge Advocate ot the War Dejiart ment, taken steps to punish the parties implicated in the conspiracy. Matters having assumed a tangible shape, it was decided that the best method of getting the entire depth of the scheme was to look up all the parties connected with the attempted fraud and subject B them to punishment. To this end Mr. *L. G. Turner, Judge Advocate, War Department, arrived in this city some days ago with the necessary papers for the arrest of Conover, alias Dunham, who was said to be here. The United States detectives at once went to work, and succeeded yesterday in tracing Conover and taking him into custody, and he was last evening taken back to Washington. The official investigation now going forward there regarding this scheme is to be continued for the present. It is said that Conover will at once be brought to answer before the proper tribunal there for his misdemeanors, and rumor has it that “ persons in high places n who deemed it for their best interest to show complicity on the part of Jeflerson Davis in the assassination of President Lincoln, by false testimony or otherwise, will find themselves held up to public gaze in a manner they little dream of. AFFIDAVITS IM I’I.K'ATI N< < CnNoVHK. The following are copies of the allidavils on file against Conover: Washington (7b/, District of C'/ft-umhio., ss: —William 11. Roberts, being duly sworn, deposes anil says—l am personally ac quainted with a man whoso assumed name is Sanford Conover, but whose real name is Charles A. Dunham; and also personally acquainted with J. A. lloare, who gave his deposition in my presence at the ollice of tiie Judge Advocate (ieneral in the city of Washington, I>. C., in the assumed name of William Campbell, on the -Ith day of No vember, A. D., 1 Si>•">, relative to the assassi nation of President Lincoln and the com plicity of .Jefferson Davis and others therein; tiie deposition then and there nrffde by said lloare, alias Campbell, was the recital of a fabricated statement written out liy the said Sanford Conover, alias Charles A. Dunham, and committed to memory by said Camp bell, alias I loare, at the National Hotel in Washington City, D. C.; the said Conover, alias Dunham, lubricated —wrote out — what he desired Campbell, alias lloare, should swear to, and Campbell committed the same to memory, partially by said Con over's assistance and in my presence; and then, by said Conover’s procurement, said Campbell went in company with said Con over and myself before the .Judgo Advocate General, on the Ith of November, A. D., lsiio, and made his deposition, being sub stantially and almost literally a recital of the fabricated statement written out bv tin* said Conover, as aforesaid; the fabricated statement I saw in Iloare’s hands; it was written by Conover and several days were spent in committing it to memory by lloare, aided by Conover and in my presence. Wm.’ll. Rohkuts. District of Columbia, to u'it.--l, Andrew Wylie, a Justice of the Supreme Court of the said District, certify that William 11. Roberts, the aidant named in the foregoing allidavit, personally appeared before mo in the Dislriet aforesaid this Kith day of Octo ber, I.S(K), and, having been lirst duly sworn, said that the facts therein stated arc true, Andkkw Wyi.if. U'ashiiif/ton District of < 'oLinuhm, ss. —A. 1 lo.ire being duly sworn, deposes as follows: On the -Ith day of November, A. I>., I* l '.'), my deposition was taken in the name.of William Campbell, at tin* olhre ol the Judge Advocate General in the city ; ol Washington, relative lo the assassination ol President Lincoln, and the complicity ol Jefferson Davis and others therein ; I made said deposition at the instance and by the procurement of a man who assumed the name of Sanford Conover, but whose real name was Charles A. Dunham; the said Conover, alias Dunham fabricated —wrote out the statement he desired me to make 1 committed it Lo memory by hisadvise and with his assistance, and then, in company with him, went to the ollice of the J udge Advocate (ieneral and there repeated it to Judge Holt, and he wrote it down and I verified the same as my deposition ; the said deposition was wholly untrue and false ; was fabricated by the said Conover alias Dunham, and I made the same by his pro curement; after makingsaid deposition, the subject matter of the assassination of Presi dent Lincoln and the alleged complicit.y of Jefferson Davis and others therein wasduly referred to the Judiciary Committee of tiie House of Representatives of the United States for investigation, said Judiciary Committee being duly and legally appoint ed and empowered to make said investiga tion, and in obedience to a subpo-na issued by said Judiciary Committee and served upon mo, I appeared before said committee in Washington city, D. C., an lhe*th day of May, A. I),, isr>f>, and then and there, being duly sworn by the chairman of said com mittee, did testify, intlie presence and hear ing of said Conover, alias Dunham, that tiie deposition made by me at the ollice of the Judge Advocate General, as aforesaid, “is false,” and that the “ matter presented'' or statements made by me m said deposition was not prepared by me, but was fabricated by the said Conover; tho said deposition was read over to me, and in the presence and hearing of the said Con over ; and then I was interrogated as to its truth or falsity, and I answered and swore that said deposition “is false,” and that the “matter presented” in said deposition was “prepared by Mr. Conover;’ after I had given iny testimony the said Hanford Con over, alias Chas. A. Dunham, was then and there duly sworn by tho chairman of said Judiciary Committee, vi/..: on the Sth day of May, A. I)., at Washington, D. ('. , and the chairman asked him the following questions among others, viz: “Do I under stand you to deny all that he (Campbell; has said here?” and he answered, “Vos, sir.” Question— “Then the committee are to understand that in lliu main you con tradict his statement?” Answer—“ Yes, sir.” Question—“ Have you any reason lo doubt the truthfulness of tho statement ol any ol the witnesses whose depositions were taken at your Instance before Judge Holt?” Answer—“l have not, nor do I doubt that they are all true now.” Tho question thus propounded to the said Conover, alias Dun ham, and the answers thereto were impor tant and material to tho issue und tho de termination of the subject mutter thou und there being investigated by the said Judic iary Committee, and tho testimony then and there given in answer to the said ques tion, by the said Conover, alias Dunham, was knowingly, wilfully and corruptly false. District of Columbia , to wit. —I, Andrew Wylie, a.Justice of tho .Supreme Court of said district, do hereby certify that .1. A. Hoare personally appeared before me, in my said distant, this 15th day of October, 18(16, subscribed tiie foregoing affidavit in my presence, and having been first duly sworn, said that tho facts therein stated wore true. Andiikw Wvi.ii:. Washington City, District o/ Columbia, ss. —L. C. Turner, .Judge Advocate, being duly sworn, says:—l have seen a man called Sanford Conover, but whoso real name is diaries A. Dunham, and I was acquainted with his handwriting und have Been him write. Alter J. A. Iloaro, alius William Campbell, had given his testimony before the Judiciary Committee ol the House of Representatives on tho Bth day of May 1800, bo guve to me a manuscript, written statement, which ho said was pre pared, fabricated by tho suid Conover, and which substuntiully was hiH deposition taken at tho office of tho Judge Advocato Geueral, November!, 1805. He stated to me that he hud committed to momory said statement and recited It to Judge Holt, by the procurement of the said Conover, and that his Bald manuscript or written state- D „ HATES of advertising, husinxsb Advjcbtihements, $l2 a year per square of ten lines: ten percent, lncreasefor fractions of a year. ' BTCAT. Estate, pkbsonai* PBOPBBTT.and Gkh jKßAi* ApvxßTianjQ, 7 cents a line for the first, and 4 cents for each subsequent Inser tion. PATBirr Medicines ana other adver’s by the column: One column, 1 year, ,sioo Half column, 1 year- 60 Third column, 1 year, 40 Quarter column 80 Business Cards, of ten lines or less, one year, .. io Business Cards, five lines or less, one year, 6 Legal and other Notices— Executors' notices - 2.00 Administrators’ notices, 2.00 Assignees’ notices, 2.00 Auditors’ notices, 1.50 Other “ Notices, ’ ten lines, or less, three times, 1.50 ment was in the hundwriting of the said Conover, and was delivered by me to, and is now in possession of, the said Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives. . L. C. Turner. District of Columbia, u, wit. —I, Andrew Wylie, d Justice of the Supreme Court of district, do hereby certify that L. C. Turner, the affiant whoso name is subscribed to the foregoing alii ditv it, persoiuiU v appeared before mo in (niv said district, and in my Cresonce subscribed the sumo, and having een tirst-duly sworn, said that the fuels therein stated were true. grofeisjiiottal ©ants B. S W A R K ATTORNEY-AT-LAW No. 13 North Duke Street. (Near the Court House,) JOHN Me HA I. I. A, SURGEON DENTIST Office aud residence opposite Cooper’s Hotel, W ic K r Kin u s t h k e t 3 A M V E I. XI 5 ATTORNEY - A T - L A W , No. 53 East Kino street, (Opposite Lechler’s Hotel,) B R A M SHAN K | A TTOK N E Y - A T - L A W , .No. 33 North I'e street, jjIUED. S I*\FEK, ATTORNEY AT LAW v v i ck : jN o . j , SOUTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER. PA dec 21 'yd.tw gni Oooib, &t. BGG. f.vi.i, iviM. it 1860. I)HY (iOUI)S 11 A UKR A 11 It <> TII I-’. It S Are now receiving a full slock of Dry Good >r Fall ami Winter Wear. LADIES' DRESS GGUDS, VALENCIAS, FRENCH MERINoKS, WOOD I’DAIDS, DK DA INKS a Nl> CHINTZES. EXTRA QUALITY BLACK SILKS. BROCADE SIDKS—Plain Shades, I’DAIN COLORED SI DKS— All Shades. MOURNING GOODS. BLACK BOMBAZINES, ALPACAS, POPLINS, MERINOES, WOODEN DONG AND SQUARE SHAWLS, BLACK THIBET LONG AND SQUAW SHA WDS. A DIES’ CLOAKS AND CLOAKING all the New S' \ »i_*. HOUSL-FURNISIIING GOODS. A complete stock of INENS, DAMASKS, MUSLINS, SHEET INGS, PIANO AND TABLE COVERS, MARSEILLES QUILTS, Ac. CARPETS, FLOOR OIL CLOTHS AND DRUG .GETS, To be sold at lowest prices. 11 AUER A* BROTHERS, 86G. ,A "" 1860. CLOTHING,CLOTHS HAUER A BROTHERS Have now e:uly the most complete slock of Fall uu' A 1 iV A CHEAP JOHN’S VARIETY STORI- N' o . 3 E ast Kino Stkk e t, Where will be found a large assortment ol HANDSOME DELAINES*FOR FALL. NEAT AND DARK CAI.ICoi'X Edit FAI.I. MUSLINS, CHECKS, flannels, A spiemlM assortment J 01, IJALMORAI. SKIRTS for the Fall. PHOTOGRAPH FRAMES AND ALBUMS, NOTIONS, GLOVES, 1-EKFIJ.MKUV, FANCY AN 1) OTiiEIIHOAI'M, GLASS AND QCEENSWARF 800 TS A XD SHOES Ac., Ac. All of which will he sold wholesale or rebill at Don't forget the place, J. A. lIoAIIK. iVo. :f Kino hi., and Southeast. Side Cl-ntrc jar Also, Wholesale and Retail Agent for Prof. MeEulyre’a Celebrated Medicines, nug 15 1866 dky u<><>»* No. 5 East Kino.Stbkkt. A BEAUTIFUL DEMONSTRATION. PRICES ARE DECIDEDLY REASONABLE. We have now on exhibition ft most suporb display or reasonable and fashionable goods as well as a largo stock of Staple and Domestic Goods, to which we Invito Early and Special Attention. Our prices will bc/ound low. CARPETS and OIL CLOTHS claim an earnest at Tho l long established character of the •* BEE HIVE STORE ” is a suillcient guarantee that every customer will get the worth 0/ their money. LADIES BACQ.UES, CLOAKS AND CLOTHB. WENTZ BROTHERS “Sign of the Bee Hive.” apr 25 tfw 10 J No. 5 East King street. Anurkw Wvuk LANCASTER, PA. LANCASTER. PA. It i; Y N O I. I> s LANCASTER, PA. LANCASTER, PA. DE LA IN ICS. SHAWLS I'Ll >THS, PASSIM KRKS. In Lancaster City Is at J) R Y U OOI) S ! CONSrSTIN'U or CANTON FLANNELS, SATINETTS, TICKINGS,Ac CLOCKS, JEWELRY TABLE AND I’OUKET CUTLERY HOSIERY, TUI MM 1 NOS OF ALL KIN I>H, astonishingly low prices. CHEAP JOHN’S, Square, Lancaster, Pa, 1866. WKXTZ HROTHRRtf BE E HIVE ST OR E