.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 lan<l ?
Bavaria'’ BrnnswicU? Hast thou seanne l
I■ wli(*r«* the y.uydorZee extends'.*
Wliere Styrial toil the iron bends?
No brother, no!—thou hast not spanned %
The G«‘rinaii’s geuuiue !• atherlaud !
Is then the German's Fatherland
We-th ialia? Pomerania? Stand
Where ZurleU's waveiess water sleeps,
Where Wi/.er winds, and Danub- sweeps
Hash found it now? Not yet! Demand
Elsewhere the German Fatherland !
Then say. When- lies the German’s land ?
Howrah they that um:oi:qu<-r d iaud?
Is't wh.-re Tvrol's green mountains rise?
The Switzer's land they clearly prize,
By Freedom's surest bre zes fanned—
But no, Tis not the German's laud !
Wliere, t herefore, lies the German land ?
Baptised that great, that ancient land?
Ik’i .M are? Or Dorain* —that vein
Wr- nched trom the I rnpei ial diruh-m
By wih-s wliieh princely treachery planned?
No, these are not the German's laud !
Where, thecrfore, lies the German's land
Naim: now at last, that mighty land !
When-'er resounds l he German longue—
Where German hymns to G >u art: sung—
There, -utllani i.rothei, Ida- thy stand !
This is i lie German's Fatherland!
i- ills ii<ml, the land of lands,
When- vnv.'s land less than clasped hands
Wli.-ie valor lights the Hashing eye,
Wo re .ovc ain i truth in deep hearts lie,
A i d 1 enkindles Freedom's brand—
Thai is ; hr German's Fatherland!
Th :t is the German’s Faiherlaud
W.M-re hale p irsu< s eaci foreign hand—
Win |v i h-nnaii is the name for f. ic’.h.
Where French man is th*- name for Ilei’d,
.And I-', ain-e's yoke is spuriu d ami banned—
That is l he G- ruia:i s Fal lei iainl !
Thai *s 111-Germ.,u'.s Fatherland!
Great. God ! 1 iok down *nd bless t iial land !
Aud gi . e her no bit: < ni Id r--n souls
To eln■; is I lilt- exi-iem-e rolls,
And low- wilii heart a id aid will).ln.ml
•J heir universal Fatherland !
The Rejected Rank Note,
11 \Y Wat is the price ol this dressing
< r own ) sir'.’ ’ asked a sweet-laced girl,
entei ing the elegant store oi llunlley <k,
Warner, in a city, and a street ol' a city,
which shall lie nameless.
Jl was a cloudy day. The clerks
lounged over the counter and yawned.
The man to whom Alice L >kc 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<! Winter Clothing ever oileiTiJ lu Him
FINE CLOTH DRESS SUITS.
CASHIMERK BUSINESS SUITS.
PLAIN AND FANCY SUITS FOR HOYS
MOSCOW BEAVER OVERCOATS.
CLOTHING MADE TO ORDER
PROMPTLY,
I N BE S T STV Is V
Moscow ami Tricut Reaver Cloths
Jack and Colored French Cloths,
Hack Doeskin and Fancy ('assimeres,
Caasiuicrea for Loya.
Satinetts, Jeans, Sec.,
To be sold at LOWEST PRICES.
HAGER BROTHERS
sep 12
rjIHK MICEATKNT PLACE I OU
(' if K A /’ It A K (>' 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