Xiteira 1 7.1 41 71 V:r:r , Go; 1,1 4411111,4115ain Win Wzmizamis DT , jt "It! TME # Co. H. O. El*Wrg. A. J. STZINSIAIS TillitUFl—Two Dollars per annum, payable all oases la advance. thrFICEII-14ournworr CORN= OW CENTRE! 8141741.11/0. li-All letters on business should be ad dressed to H. G. Burnt & CO. Nottq. For The Lancaster Intelligencer C> Will You Love Me When I Am Old? BY BALLO; F. WALKER. When I am old, and life's bright lamp No longer sheds its glitt'ring ray's, When years have numbered me with those, Who can but dream of youthful days; When Time has silvered these brown locks, And marked with cares this youthful brow, That once with pride you gaud upon, Say could you !ove me then as now? How oft we've watched fair Luna rise, And talked of love beneath her beams, We've sought the Summer's shady bowers, And wandered by the placid streams ; these eyes, the bright and blue, Have lost their hue, and dimly gtow, When nimble feet have weary grown, Oh I could you love me then as now ? And when my soul is winging flight Unto a b Wit, a happier lane, Will he I love .1111 linger by And preei the aged care-worn hand? Say, when the flowers that once we sought, Over my tomb In silence grow, Oil! will he weep that I am gone, Aud will e hlytl me then as now? triteraq. Susie, or Romance or the Street "Don't steal, little boy 7" The voice was that of a little apple girl, who was seated close behind a bar rel, which stood neamher stand, where she had gathered herself up to avoid the rain. The tone was very soft and gen tle, though directed toward a thieving black-eyed fellow, about her own age, who; thinking the apples unwatebed, had put out his hand to take one. Without looking to see whence the voice came he clew down the street as rapidly as his slip-shod feet would carry him ; and only looked back when half a block away. The little girl saw him stop and call ed out: "See here, little boy—lf you want au apple, I'll give it to you, but you should always ask." But the boy was afraid to come buck, and was soon lost to her sight. The little apple•girl was one of the city poor, who had been taken cure of when her parents died, by Mr. Pease at the Five Points House of industry. She was a pretty faced intelligent child, and when eight years old a christian lady had given her a small sum of money for a Christmas present, with which she had set up in business near Broadway, in one of those streets running from the great thoroughfare of wealth down to that sink of poverty and sin, in whose foul air that humble missionary—that good man—gave his life, that his work should live after him. The little girl's name was Susie Pool, but some of the mean children, who hated her because she was good and try ing to earn her living, wounded her feelings by calling her ' sukey." Some children would not have cared, or would have become accustomed to it, but she remembered how sweetly she had heard her name pronounced by her dear mother and father—and had heard a beautiful song called " What shall my angel mune be?" sung by a gentleman at Mr. l'ease's, and she loved her pretty name Susie. The little boy was Levi Roache ; but every one who called him at all, called him " Leevy." He had been landed, or rather stranded, upon our shores, no one knew how, or where from. His parents--if he ever had any—had died or forsaken him on a passage from a foreign land. He had curly dark hair, aquiline nose, and a German accent. Two days after the circumstances re lated above a drove of ragamuffins were passing on the opposite side of the street from where Susie sat, and scarcely knowing where she looked, she saw in the midst of them, the same pair of black roguish eyes which she had frightened .away, from behind her barrel, that rainy day. His eyes met hers and looked frightened, and were seeking to hide themselves, when a smile from Susie re-arrested them. Susie was a good natured girl and could not help smiling at the remem brance of how nicely she had detected the sly little fellow in his attempt to purloin her apples ; and how she smiled to see him trying to avoid her. Now, if he had seen a stick, stone or an old boot whizzing through the air at his bead, he would have taken it as a matter of course, and with an oath passed on ; but to see the one whom he had tried to wrong look at him pleas antly, and with a smile that betokened no he was perfectly astonished; and some how, although he kept aloof, the did not exactly avoid her again; and at the eud of a week he actually passed right by her and her apple-stand, with a somewhat dubious attempt at whist ling a -tune. Whether he did this to show how brave he was, or that he would not attempt to steal again, we cannot say. Now the hardest work Leevy ever did in his life was trying to earn a penny that he might go and patronize the in jured Susie in a really magnanimous way. At the end of a week he succeed ed, and went straightway to her apple stand. Putting on a large air, he de manded—as if he had never seen her or her apple-stand before : " What's the best bargain you can give fora penny?" "Well," said Susie, in seemingly ut ter ignorance of his identity, " these are three cents a piece—very large and nice, you see ; these two cents a piece, and these two for three cents." "None for a penny ?" said Leevy, with a plainly disappointed look. "Apples are very high at this late season, , said Susie. "I know they are, but I've come a long way to buy, you see." " How far?" "From beyond 'the pints,' " and then putting on a sort of injured business air, he continued—" and it's a mighty long way to come to spend yer money. But I noticed yourn was perty nice lookup, and so I thought I d come up h'yer," and still continuing, while Susie was busily engaged with rubbing her 'apples and turning their reddest cheek toward him, "but I know every thing's dearer as you get near Broadway." " I believe it is," replied Susie, who was really interested in her would-be customer, " but don't you have apple stands down where you live?" " Yes—a few; but the fellers grab and —steal,"—here he almost chocked, for he had unwittingly uttered the last word in the world which he wished to; but he continued—" it don't pay!" Susie had too much consideration to look up, but she well knew what re membrance that one word—" steal " brought up, and then, as if to cover up what he had said, she asked : "What's your father and -mother ?" "I haven't any." "Oh!" said she, sympathizingly, "then you're just like me. But where did you come from? you don't talk like us." "I come in a ship—l can, remember that; and I can just remember that I was awful scared when we landed, and couldn't understand a word anybody said—and that's all I know." Susie was interested, and after he had finished, she seemed engaged in deep thought for a few moments, (during which time Leevy paddled with his toe in the gutter,) and then exclaimed: " Why, you must be--German." "Do you think so ?" the boy asked, eagerly. ' Yes." " Well, then," broke out Leevy, "I won't be it; for the boys call me Dutch now and I hate it." " It is mean to be called nicknames, isn't it?" said Susie, sympathetically ;- "_,But you see I don't know much about it, but will ask Mrs. Pease. She know and I'll tell you." "Pease?" exclaimed Leevy. "Do you go there 2" "Of course. How do you think I got started if I didn't?" "How d'ye like it ?" " Like it? why it's the best thing that ever happened toine ? Like it:? Haven't you never been there—for soup, Mir dinner, nor shoes, nor nothing 7 1, "No," answered •Leevy; "butl was going once, but the fellahs made so much o'me, and said nobody but Chris tians went there, and I didn't go." "Now," said Susie, "that's a 11i31 Christians! why they're the meanest . . I,', r Ni AO LAI, i,I. I. A` A' , ; •1511 Ir•ii 10,111) .. , ,1 , J.,.1,r, ...;;,„.,,,t .• '. r. ILI I, t I: ...4( . 1 rI I It% tr ,r;rl , u 1 1 • i ii'l .A, l' , it: . , „ , . 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Why, that's Whatthey have it for." "Ha, Leevy!" "ha, Dutch!" at that moment cried a gang of young scoun drels, as they caught sight of him in conversation with the apple girl a block away. The poor boy, ashamed—for he had pride, lilt was prevented, in his ne glected composition,--and disappointed, was walking off, when Susie said : "You can take your choice of my apples for a penny if you'll come to Mr. Peases." Leevy hesitated' unwilling to leave the apples and unwilling to be seen there byr. his companions ; for among his ilk, of all things to be ashamed of— so preverted is human nature by vice —was any appearance of good and de cenc,y. " I don't want your apples." " Why, I thought you did—you said you wanted to buy." "Yes, I did, but your prices are too high, and" (with theoldpride) "I don't want any one to lose money on me." " Well," said Susie, coaxingly, " I'll —trust." The boy looked at her in amazement; for of all things in the world which he had ever had, been, suffered or expect ed, he had never one thought of being —trusted. But he saw nothing but truth and sincerity in the girl's face, and With an unusual enlargement of the chest, and the addition of at least an inch to his height, the bargain was com pleted, and he, prouder than ever, In his life before, walked down the street eat ing his apple. Now a real good apple was a great luxury with him, and he ate it very mincingly. When he had eaten about one-half of it, somehow, through his brain, the thought came that he had eaten Just about as much us he had paid for. He looked back up the streetto see If Susie was watching him ; but seeing her busy with some customers, he care fully poked the half eaten apple into what, with various strings, pins and rags amounted to a pocket, saying, within himself—" I'll not eat another bite of that apple till it's paid for!" And if he worked hard for the first penny, he worked larded for the second, and at the end of two days, he succeeded, and ran with all haste up Worth street to Broadway to the little apple girl, she was delighted to see him, and made him both proud and unhappy by saying,— " I expected you before this ;" proud that the sweet little girl had thought of him, and unhappy that he had disap pointed her. "How did you get your money ?" she confidentially asked. "I found an old boot top and sold it to a cobbler for a penny." " Do you like to earn money ?" she thoughtfully demanded. "Earn money? Why, of course I do; who don't?" Susie looked still more thoughtful, for weighty business was to be pro pounded. There was silence for at least a minute. Susie then spoke: " Well, what's your name?" " Leevy." " Well, Leevy, if you'd agree to be decent—wash your face and comb your hair, and come to our Sunday School, I'll tell you how you can earn at least six cents a day, and earn it like a little man ?" Leevy started and opened his eyes wide, while Susie looked straight into his, awaiting an answer. " How?" he at length demanded. " Will you come?" asked Susie. "You're jokeing," said Leevy, dubl- ously. "Not a bit of it. Will you come?" "I will by—thunder!" " Well, you needn't say that, for " by is swearing." "Six cents a day!" broke in Leevy, who was not yet prepared for a moral lesson. "How do you know I can earn six cents a day? And I'm too dirty to go into that House; they'll kick me out." "Wash yourself up and comb your hair — ll "But I haven't any comb." " Well, you can wet your hair a little, and poke it and paw it into some sort of style, so it'll do till you once get there—" Just then a great quantity of dirt and gravel flew round the corner, and down the street flew Leevy, with the ragged, taunting throng—his companions in arms—after him. The next morning was Sunday, and Susie was up early and had washed and dressed nearly a score of the little chil dren who huddled around under the protecting roof of that blessed Refuge for the poor. One of the nurses sent her down stairs for something, and when in the lower hall the door opened suddenly, and a mild little boy was let in with a shower of missile, jeers, and threats. It was Leevy, who was indeed frightened nearly out of his wits, no less by the strangeness inside than the danger outside, and could scarcely speak. But Susie ran to him, saying—" I was afraid you wouldn't come up," and taking him by' the hand, led him up to Mr. Pease. That good man's kind ness soon made him feel easy; and when, at Susie's sly suggestion, Leevy took off his hat, she was astonished at the smoothness and quality of his hair, and thought to herself—" how much one can do with nothing!" Leevy, of course, was very awkward and ashamed (both good qualities under the circumstances,) but was deeply im pressed with the services. He learned more in that one hour in Sunday school than he ever knew in his life before. He managed to see Susie a few mo ments before leaving, and said: "I'm awful glad I come, but you haven't told me yet how I'm to earn the money!" " Come early—very early to my stand tomorrow morning and I'll tell you." That was a memorable day fox' the poor, ragged, dirty, homeless, friendless boy. That night he asked a poor old darkey, (whom he had mocked and tor mented many a time, while he was try ing to read his bible, in the thickly tenanted house) if he would not wake him when he first Woke in the morning. The old man promised that he would, and Leevy was at Susie's corner early the next morning—before any of the stores in the vicinity were opened. Susie was not there ; but he soon saw her coming up the street in the direc tion of Washington Market, with her great basket of apples on her slender arms. Breathing hard from fatigue she smilingly said, " I knew you'd be here." Leevy was pleased at this answer of her confidence, and offered to assist her in setting up her stand, which, by the per mission of a kind porter who opened and swept out the store near where she kept her stand, was placed just inside the entrance every night when-he closed the store—for Susie did not sell apples after dark, because the lady who started her in business told her she better not. "No," said Susie, "I can do my own work, and now must tell you about yours. You see this empty barrel of mine?" si y es. ); " Well, I can do very well without it, but will let it stand here until it is full." "Full?" said Leevy; "full of what?" " I'll tell you—don't you see this por ter here, and there—over there's an other—just sweeping out?" ' Yes." " Well, you just go and stand by the door and when they get the pile of pa pers just ready to sweep out, you ask them if they wontp/ease—give them to you? Be sharp and quick, and get ahead of the rag-pickers—you see they're coming already—hurry up ! Be polite and grab your arms full and run over to me—put them in the barrel and I'll watch them for you." Leevy saw it all at a glance. - Away he ran, and in less than half an hour, and by the time Susie was fairly set up for the day, the barrel was more than half full of waste paper. He worked like a good fellow, scarcely stopping to Bay a word until all the stores were swept, and no more paper to. gathered. And as he took of -his old cap to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, he gave it a slap' againstithe barrels ex claiming proudly, "Look • at that Busier Susie did look and praised him too: and then told him to roll the barrel away down•: the street, across Centre, up that street a little way—then down another. "Oh, I-know the place where they buy rags!" he exclaimed and was off in no time. While the laborers were still on their way to their daily work, Leevy return ed, tugging back•the barrel, and sure enough had six cents. Five cents were deposited with Susie, and that amount was to be daily installed. At the end of a month he had more money than he ever dreamed of possessing, besides giving a penny every Sunday to the Sabbath School. Four—six months passed. The raga muffin association who had not only abused and maltreated him because he had dared quit their society, but for a long time gave Susie a great deal of an noyance in the way of making up faces at her, calling her names, throwing over her stand, and stealing her apples, at last gave him up as lost, and he was comparatively happy. But the people with whom he burrowed at night, and who claimed a distant kinship, treated nim badly—said he was putting on airs, when he was only trying to be a good boy; and the winter was come, and he had a sorry,time of it trying earn his six cents a day and maintain his respecta bility. He was nine years old, and could not read. One Sunday he linger ed at the Mission, and stood talking to Susie in the hall. Both their faces wore a look of mingled joy and sorrow. The next morning the rag-pickers had it all their own way. Susie sat by her empty barrel alone. Leevy had gone—left the city In the steam cars! If the heavens had fallen it could scarcely have been a grepter event to Susie and Leevy, who were fast friends now, and that Leevy should go away from New York. Why the poor things scarcely knew that there was any other place—only Leevy knew there was a great ocean, for he remem• bered that, and Susie knew there was a heaven, and that there was about the extent of their geographical education. The great event happened in this wise: A merchant from Chicago, who came semi-annually to New York to purchase goods, was accustomed—being a Chris tian—instead of the Sunday mornings away, to visit the different Sunday Schools and charitable institutions dur ing his visits, and hearing of Mr. Pease's great work within the purlieus of the plague-spot, in the great city, he visited the institution. He had no children of his own, and now concluded to do what he had often thought of doing before, namely : to take , an orphan boy an d bring him up to good business and do mestic habits, and finally, if he proved what he desired, adopt him as his own son. Now Mr. Burroughs was not rich, but what is better, he was a kind, intelli gent, and industrious man, and deter mined to succed in life, if honesty and industry would bring success. He had looked about him in his own city and had really tried several boys, but most of them had some relation or friend who interfered or wished to dictate, or was displeased with the arrangement ; he therefore resolved to take a lad who had no friends but who needed some, and one who would not have the curse of evil companionship to contend with. He now communicated his wishes to Mr. Pease, who SLAM called out a dozen boys, slalom he said he could recom mend. "Now," said Mr. Burroughs, "I want a business boy," and looking from one to another, he asked if any of them had ever worked any. All of them replied in the affirmative. " How many has been paid for work?" All held up their hand. "And," con tinued he, "how many have saved any of his earnings?" Leevy's hand was the only one up. "How many pennies have you, my boy ?" That was a glorious moment for Leevy, and he replied quickly: I've got seven dollars in the Savings Bank and Susie Pool has got thirty seven cents a keep ing for me, and I've got one penny in my pocket for the Sunday School." That was remarkable, and Mr. Bur roughs exclaimed, highly gratified and astonished, " your my man "In the joy of that moment Leevy was repaid for all his early rising, hard scrabbling and ill treatment of his for mer companions. " Would you like to go and live with me ?" asked Mr. Burroughs. "And work and earn money?" de manded the boy. " Certainly," responded the gentle man. But suddenly Leevy's face drop ped, and he said, " But I want to go to school first." . "That's right!" said Mr. Burroughs, "and you shall, if you be a good boy, have a good education." Again the boy's black eyes danced, but only for a moment, and they fell ; and he pulled bashfully at his coat skirts he continued—" but—but—l can't tell sir—'till—'till—" Here he dropped his head and turned his face away, half in shame and half in sadness. " Till what?" demanded the gentle man "you have no relations to ask about it—have you?" `,No, sir." " Well, then, what is it?" " I—I—" began Leevy, and then broke into a blubber. Here Mr. Pease's quick perception and kindly nature came to the rescue, and as he drew the gentleman aside, he said to the boy, " I know—l know—l'll see to that, Leevy. Never mind—she'll be willing, I'll guarantee." Then Susie and Leevy held the little conference meeting we spoke of above. The rattling, clanking train carried him away from her and the great wick ed city. The regrets of children are soon for gotten in the new scenes. Ands° mem orable were the delights and sights which Leevy felt and saw, that the first letter he learned to write was to Susie, telling her all about the wonder ful mountains and marvelous forests through which he had passed on his journey to his new home. And thence. forward, twice a year a letter was car ried to and from Susie and Leevy by Mr. Burroughs. Years passed away. Leevy was a good boy and a good scholar ; and Susie no more sat at the corner of the street selling apples. The lady who had start ed her in business with a dollar had kept watch over her, advising her in all things, and at fourteen took her into her family to assist in taking care of the children, and had sent her to the even ing schools. She had learned to read and write long before, from what little help she could pick up. Twelve years had passed, and the good woman who had befriended Susie was dead. Sadly the lone girl sought a sit uation in a strange family, and many were the sorrowful days and nights she passed, for her new place, though grand er by far, was not the home she had lost. But she worked on, trusting in God, who had befriended her all her life, notwithstanding the heaviness in her heart. One day she answered the door-bell, and being blinded with tears in her eyes, s,he could scarcely see the gentle man who entered, enquired if Mr. Hard gain lived there. There was something in his voice—whether the kindly in tonation or the least foreign accent, we cannot tell—but it made Susie's heart leap high, and looking hard through her tears she saw—no, she had never. seen him before ! But she could see that he was a well dressed, fine-looking young fellow, with curly dark hair, and quick black eyes. The lower part of his face was partly hidden by a young beard. She turned to show him into the parlor, when she was arrested by an old fa miliar voice saying in a low, half en quiring, half reproachful way : II Sturie.ll She staggered back against the wall as she reached out her hands. But hands were not enough, and Leevy put his arms around her, and kissed the poor t glad girl, just as the voice of Hrs. Hardgain .came brawling down the stairs, demanding: "For heaven's, sake! what does this mean?—Sir! girl! and with the hall door wide open!" Susie started, trembling in every limb. But Leevy bad good nerves as well as good manners, and without relinquish- LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING, MARCH 27,1867 eupPart of the . stoking glrl, he looked np to where the lady ;stood t}t the top of the stain, and goosi-naturedly eald: " Beg pardon, madam ! It is rather startling, I know, but I've come after Susie." There was an "Ugh !" and a slam of the lady's chamber-door; but a smile broke over Susie's face, and Leevy— the thoughtless fellow—really laughed out loud. And that isn't all; the hap py girl continued to smile even when the lady refused to pay her wages, be cause the last month was not up for three days! And when the gentle madam came foaming down stairs, "to give the fellow a piece of her mind about the ungrateful girl," she stopped very suddenly as she confronted Leevy in the parlor, where he was wait ing for Susie. Then Levy laughed again ! It was outrageous, wasn't it? But young folks and happy folks laugh so easily, you know, and upon such in opportune occasions, that we must re ally forgive them. The wedding was at Mr. Pease's that very evening, and in less than a month they were settled in their new home in Chicago, scarcely a stone's throw from Lake street, where you may now see the sign of " BURROUGHS AND ROACHE —Fancy Goods." So you see that with good nature, a few smiles, and some old rags and pa pers, Susie, the little apple girl, saved a soul, and received In this life ultimate happiness, prosperity and a husband ; and although they were obliged to work and wait a long time, it was a good bargain, was it not?" For the Intelligeueor "Reminiscences of Venice." This feeling pervades every being and is evidenced on every hand. A proud lady, one of the most wealthy of the few remaining families of the original Vene tians, took a most novel way of showing her love for the Italian national cause, and dislike for the government under which-she lived a soil, of exile life. It was on St. Joseph's day. The Riva was as is usual on festal occasions, de.nse ly crowded by promenaders of every shade and condition. This gay Signora amused herself by the most hazzardous game of dropping from under her man tle, as she carelessly passed along, the celebrated tri-colored roses of Italy, to be picked up by the too eager crowd who followed in her wake. It was not long before the movement attracted the ever-wakeful and jealous eyes of the police, who, understanding this " lan guage of flowers" but too well, soon discovered the source from whence they came. The lady was arrested taken before the Tribunaledi Justicia, and underwent a preliminary examination on the charge of having incited to re volt! Too high-spirited to plead for mercy, and too proud withal to give security for her future good behavior, she preferred to become, asshe regarded it, a martyr to the cause of liberty, fully aware that thereby she would in spire the populace with respect for her, and hatred towardthe authorities, upon whom they were ever ready to look as their oppressors. For months and months, our fair lady remained in du rance, the true heroine, enjoying the happy consciousness of having attained her end, by making those whom she and her people detested, still more odi ous. Attentions bordering on ovations, were constantly shown her; in fact she became the subject of comment and admiration throughout the whole land. The whole subject became farcical, and the actors in thd play, whether the vigilant police, who overmagnified the offence, or the lady, who defied their authority, both alike made themselves ridiculous in the eyes of the observer, who had no interest in the matter. There was another motive for all this on the part of the patriotic lady : It was Joseph Garibaldi, whose name is sacred to every true and loyal Venetian, that was associated with the holy day. They look upon him as their final deliverer from political bondage, and hence cele brate the festival of his name, instead of that of the saint in the calendar of the church. If they were enthusiastic in their ob servance of this day, in order to show their veneration for the great chief, they were equally united in showing their feelings when the birthday of the Austrian Emperor was celebrated by the officials and soldiers. On such an occasion they would immure themselves within their homes during the entire day, lest the authorities might construe their being abroad into a participation in the festivities of the day. No true Venetian, be it man, woman or child, would have it said that they had aided in so " hateful a ceremony ?" On such a day flags and streamers floated from every public building. The shipping in port was gaily decked with the black white-and-red of Austria, and the graceful gondola, as it glides along, leaving some government official to the Cathedral of San Marco, (where the day was celebrated in the most solemn and impressive manner,) also bore upon Its prow the national colors. Business was suspended. Soldiers and civilians alike joined in the festivities and were it not known that 100,000 hearts are beating in discordant throbs, we might have exclaimed, Venice once again is happy ! On such occasions it was not uncommon to find neat little tri-colored flags accidentally floating down the canals, or placed conspicuously ou some immovable object, where it would be sure to attract both the notice of the ex asperated Austrians, and the enthusi astic Venetians, to be cursed and de stroyed by the former, and blessed by the latter. Thus blind passion held its sway ; dark hate increased from day to day. Every day but tended to widen the chasm between the two contending elements. The consequence was loss of confi— dence; stagnation in trade and com merce. Every branch of industry which could tend to the prosperity of the place was paralized. The laboring classes were unemployed, and ruin and want stared thousands in the face. This was the state of things in Ven ice in 1861, and which, up to 1866, had not changed for the better. The Ger man or Austrian population which em braced all the Government officials and military, were hated and shunned by the populace. Strangers visiting the place were, watched in their movements by jealous eyes, and when detected hold ing friendly intercourse with the former, became at once objects of suspicion, if not open bate. One young man, on hearing of the endangering of the lives of a number of small children by some accident, said: "Oh, they were only Tedeschi," (Germans.) A young lady once said in my hearing, " if the Germans were all poisoned, it would be no harm, as they were only bestia," (brutes.) These are a few examples given to show the state of feelings existing among the Italians towards the foreigners dwelling among them at that time. Asylum for Printers The announcement that accompanied the publication of the will left by Charles F. Browne, (Artemus Ward,) to the effect that his property—some s6o,ooo—shall, after the death of his mother, be appropriated to the found ing of an asylum forprinters, has drawn from the Chicago Tribune a practical and an excellent suggestion, as follows: " We propose that the craft in all parts of the country, by a united resolve, pro vide that there be retained by the fore man of each newspaper and printing office, from the earnings of thejourney men, a sum equal to flve mills upon each dollar of his weekly bill. This small tax, of one-laf cent on the dollar, should be paid over,to a local treasurer weekly, and by_ him forwarded tda gen eral treasurer to be invested until such time as the asylum fund will be availa ble. The tax is a small one to each per son, but in ten years' time if properly invested, with 'its earnings, would con stitute a fund equal to theestablishment and endowment of an asylum equiil to the demands of the craft, worthy of the men whose infirmities of body may make them its inmates." DEEMED •u!'iVan• in Hungered."' It was 'sleeting fast. Evening was fal t i t i A f ti rf. The streets were almost de- Suddenly a voice at my elbow said, "I am not, •Sit for work and have eaten nothing to-day." I looked at the speaker. He was an able-bodiedlaan, but bad lost both arms by amputation ; he was evidently a dis charged soldier. He was pale, too, as if from recent sickness, or from scanty food. He bad on an old thread-bare coat. My first impulse was to give him something. But my coat was buttoned tight; I could not easily unbutton it and continue to hold my umbrella and book ; and' to crown all, the street car for which I had been waiting, at that moment came up. " I haven't anything to-day," I said, turning from the manand beckoning to the driver. I heard a sigh as I turned, and was on the point of reconsidering my de cision, but I reflected that if I missed this car I should have to wait ten minutes in the road. "Besides," I said to myself, "somebody else will be sure to give him something " But my heart smote me, when, on looking after the man, I saw him go sadly down the street, with bent head. Once I thought of stopping the car, overtaking the man, and giving him half a dollar. But while I hesitated, the car passed the corner, and he was out of sight. It was too late. I did not eat my dinner, that day, with the usual appetite. I could not get the wan face out of my mind. At times the victuals seemed tochoke me. What if he really was starving and no one would help him! All through the evening the man's look haunted me. In vain my little daughter, seeing me abstracted, sang her sweetest ballads. In vain my wife sought to "cheer me up," as, she said. I even dreamed of the man. If I had known where to find him, I would have gone the next day, to satisfy myself that he had received assistance. But tne Impression gradually wore off, There is so much suffering now, in great cities that almost every one be comes hardened to lt. 1 persuaded my self finally that the man had been help ed by others. " There are so many societies to ald soldiers," I said. It was uncomfortable to think otherwise. One morning, about four days after the interview, my wife was reading the paper, when she suddenly laid it down and cried, "How shocking!" I did not know how it was, but I felt a sudden chFll. I thought instantly of that man's wan face. But I said care lessly, as I broke my egg: " What is it, my dear? "Oh ! such a horrible story. A dis charged soldier, his wife and two chil dren dying of starvation. At least the wife is dead, and one of the children is not expected to live. None had any thing to eat for four days. They were found in an old out-house. The hus band is said to have lost both arms at Gettysburg." My hand trembled so much that long before my wife finished I had been com pelled to lay down my egg unopened. She was looking at the paper and did not see me. I had no appetite after that. I rose immediately and hastened down stairs, for I was sure this was the man whose petition I bad rejected. I went straight to see him. I had the paper in my pocket, and it directed me to the miserable out-house, where the sufferers had been found. Quite a crowd had collected outside. But a policeman at the doors permitted no one to go in. He knew me, how ever, and on my expressing my wish, allowed me to enter. A sheet, furnished by some poor neighbor, was spread over a still waxen face in the corner and a little girl was sob bing beside it, a man bowed with grief sat at the foot. At the sound of my footsteps he looked up. It was the same man's face I had- repelled at the corner of the street. Since that day I have never turned away from old or young who asked alms. Better give to a thousand who are unworthy, than refuse one who is really in need. John Smith Advertlseth for Ills Dog. The dog is a very useful animal. I own a dog—black and tin terrier. He Is a nice dog; used to look very fero cious and fly around the room when anybody said "rats," although I never knew him to catch any. But he was great at raw beef. In that respect I never saw his equal. He answered to the name of "Jack." I suppose there must be several million dogs wLo re joice in the same cognomen. Jack strayed away a week or two ago ; left the manna of my house for the flesh pots of some beguiling stranger, I sup pose. Missed him when I came home; house seemed empty without him. His " bark" wasn't ou the sea," or in the parlor, or in the second story front or anywhere else. Children cried for him, while our Thomas cat no longer mount ed hurriedly on the chairs and tables as he approached. I was distressed. I consulted with my wife; I advertised for him ; offered five dollars reward. Advertisement appeared in the morn ing papers. Ring at the door-bell about 6 A. IL Whole family in bed. Rose and put my head out of the window. Man with two spotted dogs that looked as if they had just recovered from a severe attack of the measles. Fellow looked up and wanted to know " if either one of them was him." Don't use profane language ; so simply said " no " and shut the win dow. Door bell rang eighteen times within the next hour. Got up at last and dress ed. Began to eat my breakfast. Another ring at the bell. Short man with shiny hat. _Wore what my oldest girl called "spit curls." Had a bull dog with a head like a cast-iron water spout and crooked legs. Said he'd found my dog. Told him that wasn't him. Said he knew it was, rather savage. Dog began to growl, and looked hard at me. Assumed a mild, persuasive tone, and described my lost canine. Fellow said, anyhow he was a bet ter dog than mine, and he guessed he would leave him. I said I wouldn't have him under any circumstances. Fellow pushed the dog and said s-s-s ketch 'em. Dog made a dash at me. Springing inside, and shut the door in his face. Went in the parlor and watch ed him leave through the front gate. Saw another man coming in. Had a ridiculous poodle with a brass color around his neck. Threw up the window and told him that wasn't my dog, so he needn't bring him in. He eyed me with a sarcastic style, and said I couldn't afford to own a dog like that. Toldhim I didn't want to, either. Said that dog had killed his nineteen rats in four minutes, he had. Said I wouldn't be lieve him if he crossed his breast to it. Fellow then dared me to come out. Said he would poke me in the nose, or some thing of that sort. I didn't go out. Another ring at the bell. This time a fellow in a fur cap, andayellow mon grel that had but one eye. Asked me if I had lost a dog. Said yes. Fur cap said he had found him, and wanted the reward. Told him that wasn't my dog. Fur cap wanted to know: if my dog wasn't named Jack. Said he was. He then called his bilious-looking canine by that name. Dog flapped his atten uated tall against the pavement three or four times, and flung his undamaged optic around in a wild sort of style. Wasn't convinced however, and the fur cap left after breaking the third com mandment in a most horrid manner. Hadn't got fairly iii the house before there was another call. This time a chap in tattered raiment, nothing pur ple alout him but Ids nose, and no fine linen on, or coarse either, as far , as I could see. Had. a big blaok and tan terrier with him. Dog looked a good deal . scared. Had a way of.putting his tail between his legs. My impression is that' thelelioWwent out and hunted up the ttog to get the reward. Didn't seem to take kindly to his education. .Syntax was defective. Said he had "fetched back that dog of , rb urn i. , t. i ro y e lt o lm w t i b ri a si t, :i . 4 , j o a t t t i lte w one Seemed rather down-hearted because I wouldn't take him. Asked, if 1, didn't observe how, glad the dumb, beast was to see me. Said I hadn't obsefved it. Fellow said I'd regret It if I let such a chance slip to get a valuable beast. Said I guessed I'd have to let her slip. Then he tho't a while, and asked me If I wouldn't lend him five dollars any how and take the dog as security. Told I him was unable to perceive it-precisely from that stand-point. So he went away, looking as if he felt hurt. Then another man came with a fierce looking hound with hairless tail.— 'Hound rushed right at me commenced exercising his olfactories up and down my trowsers. Looked as if he might bite with the least provocation. Man said he'd brought my dog. Told him rather sharp that my dog was a terrier. Said so was this one. Caught rats be fore his eyes were open, and had been engaged in that blood-thirsty occupa tion regularly ever since. Told him I couldn't take him. Man said he wouldn't leave without the five dollars. Said I would see him in the tomb of the Capulets first. Fellow thought I was swearing at him, and struot at me. Dog took it up right off, flew at me and tore my trowsers, besides tasting my flesh. I escaped into the entry, shut the door and locked it. Determined not to answer any more rings.— Bell was pulled two hundred and seventy-five times more. Don't answer it. Understood afterwards that several of my friends haa been to see me, and gone away offended. About di nner time went up and looked out of the window. Found seventy-five or eighty meo there, all of whom had dogs. Bull terriers, spaniels, setter pups, blood hounds, double-nosed pointers, New foundlauds, lapdogs, whit's, fits, gray hounds, mastiff's, mongrels. Dogs with strait tails; curly tails, bob tails, and on tails at all. Yellow, black, white, brown, .spotted and flea-bitten. I suppose that ever went on four legs; or three either, were gathered in my front yard. Put the sash up, and attempted to disperse the crowd. Crowd commenced to take all at once. Dogs all howled, yelped, barked, and snarled. Couldn't hear my own voice, and shut the window in disgust. Haven't seen my dog yet. Don't ever expect to see him. Don't ever want to see him or any other dog. Have seen enough of dogs to last me the balance of my natural life. Horrible stories are in circulation connecting dogs with restaurant eau• sages. Hope my dog is tucked away in some sausage skin. Wish all the dogs were made into one large sausage, and the fellow who owns the dog with the hairless tall that bit me had it to eat at one sitting. Meerchaum What It Is, Where It Is Got, and How It Is Manufactured—A itee. Ipt for Making Itoltus Meerchautu. The mineral meerchaum is well known to be a hydrated silicate of magnesia, with two equivalents of water. The variety most valued is compact, sus ceptible of being wrought • and receiv ing a beautiful polish. Itis almost ex clusively employed in making tobacco pipes and cigar -holders. A strange an nouncement has been put forth that it may be substituted for the sub-nitrate of bismuth, in choleraic diseases. De posits of meerchaum are very rare, which accounts for its high price. Some veins, however, are found in the Paris basin at Chenavieries, in the en virons of Madrid, but these are of little value compared with the article from Asia Minor, being too soft and fragile. The mining of meerchaum is carried on largely at Kiltchink, Antolia ; the kind found there, though soft and greasy to the touch when fresh, becoming hard and white in the fire. Some obscurity still exists as to the mode of preparing the crude meerchaum ; nevertheless, it is known that pipes made in Anatolia are moulded. The crude earth is knead ed and pressed into moulds, the article being then dried in the sun and hard ened by the fire. It is then boiled in milk, and dried anew and polished. The pipes thus moulded on the spot are, ho wever, little in demand, those wrough in Germany or Belgium being much more esteemed. The meerchaum which is to be exported is prepared in Konie, moulded into blocks, dried and slightly baked. After cutting out, the manufac turers are in the habit of submitting the pipes to a preJaration with wax, sper macitti or parafine. The chips are powdered, formed into paste with water, dried and hardened in the fire. The pipes made from this waste material are, however, of an inferior quality, the first baking to which the material was origi nally submitted having produced slight frittage, which renders subsequent cohe sion difficult to produce. The manufacture of meerchaum arti ficially has been the object of many re searches. The following method gives very good results when operated by an intelligent and skillful chemist. It is founded simply upon the double decom position of soluble alkeline silicates by sulphate of magnesia. One pound Avoirdupois of sulphate of magnesia is dissolved iu about a•quart of water, two quarts of a solution of soluble silicate, of density 1,25, is poured into this—both, liquids being about 1,70 degrees Fahren heit. The product is a gelatinous precipi tate,which is long washed,first with boil ing,and then cold water, until all alkaline sulphate is removed ; then poured into a stone or zinc trough and dried at a temperature of not over 100 Fahrenheit. The mass thus produced is compact, friable, and very similar to the natural meerchaum, and is susceptible of being manipulated and manufactured in- the same way as the latter. For some years M. Wagner has obtained good results by a different method. He incorporates with one part of casin(?) six parts of calcined magnesia, one part of oxide of zinc. Upon drying this mixture there results a materialof a lustous whiteness, very hard, susceptible of being cut and polished, and which perfectly simulates the natural meerchaum. Business at the Ban Francisco Mint. From the report of the Superintend ent of the Branch Mint at San Fran cisco for the year 1866, just received, it appears that the total amount of gold bullion delivered to the melter and re finer during the year was $29,905,206.72; the total amount returned by him dur ing the same period was $29,903,134.42; showing the actual wastage to be $2,- 126.30, while the law allows a wastage of $59,810.52. The whole amount of silver bullion delivered during the same period was $1,615,403.65, and the amount returned was $1,648,518.26, showing an excess of $3,114.64, while the law allows a loss of $3,290.80. The working of the coiner was equally re markable, and shows the manipulation of thirty millions of dollars of bullion in the San Francisco Mint with a loss of only a little more than $5OO. The Reported Over Issue of Government Bonds and Securities. The impressions which prevail In the banking circles here as to the alleged over-Issue of bonds and currency, are to the effect that there have been no is sues beyorid•the amount reported in the official documents of the Department, and that the system of checks, which is used in the Bureau, renders such over issue impossible, except by collusion be tween five different officials, through whose hands they pass, and by each of whom they are counted. The amount of interest, which Is paid every six months, is also a check by which the fraud would be likely to be detected, if committed. But, as money is readily borrowed on these bonds, the latter check might not be effected, as the party hypothecating the bonds might withhold the coupons from the Treasury, and still borrow money upon them. The conclusion, therefore, is that if there is any large over-issue of either bonds or currency it has been effected by the collusion of at least five or six officials ; and as there has been no sudden departure of any except the clerk Lee, who obtained.the bonds he had in an entirely different mode, the report is discredited in bank ing circles, and is attributed to the efforts of the bulls•in gold, in Wall ' and Broad streets, NUMBER 12. iallangoilo. The Case of Colonel North. S/owly,but surely the record of crime at Washington is unrolling itself.- It is as black, but with letters more dis. Unot than the charred papyri which come from the mudand cinders of Pom peii. Mr. Seward may try to write over them the conservative platitudes which now dribble from his pen, but, from underneath, the story of wrong, and outrage, and wanton abuse of power struggles to the light at last. Reading some of those revelations, one is lost in Wonder at-the patience and long suffer ing of the victims, but we do not won der at the tenacity with which such wrong-doers as Seward, and Stanton, and Holt cling to the immunity which the . inere possession' f office appears to give. Mr. Lincoln, whom these recent disclosures seriously implicate, is in his grave, and pity for an untimely end softens in his case the voice of censure. But, while Sanford Conover le in jail, and Detective Baker is dismissed, and Boston Corbett, who so unnecessarily, or with an evil intent, shot Booth in the barn, has sunk out of sight, the tri umvirate at Washington still retain high position, and still are amenable to public criticism. These ideas are prompt ed by the singular, and, as we may well describe them, awful revelations recent ly made in New York, in the case of Colonel North, the uncontested facts of which are briefly these : Colonel Samuel North, who resides, we presume, somewhere in the neigh borhood of Cooperstown, was, and is, a man of entire personal respectability. In 1884 he was appointed agent of the State of New York, to reside at Washington, to look after the interests of the volunteer soldiers of New York in that locality, and to do and perform such things as were necessary in admin istering to the wants and interests of all such connected with the army, the sick in hospitals and elsewhere. How fal th • fully he discharged those arduous du ties, how willingly and efficiently he aided hundred of poor soldiers, how many acts of kindness were shown parents and friends, how impartial was his treatment of all, may be shown by the united testimony of political friends and opponents. With him were asso ciated a Mr. Cohn and Mr. Marvin M. Jones. On the 27th of October, 1804, about a fortnight before the Presidential election, theme gentlemen were arrested by military process, in Washington and thrown into the Old Capitol Prison, the charge being "defrauding soldiers of their votes." There they remained till January and February, 1865, when they were discharged as innocent. Now let us see what happened in those dreary three months of illegal, wanton imprisonment. From within, no word of complaint was allowed to reach the outer world. But Governor Seymour, hearing of the case, appointed a commission consisting of men of high standing, Messrs. Palmer, Allen, and Kelly, who visited Washington, and with some difficulty were allowed to visit these poor men. In their report to the Governor, the commissioners give this ghastly narrative—so bad that we almost hesitate to reproduce it: The undersigned availed themselves of the permit granted them to visit Colonel North, M. M. Jones, and Levi Cohn. They found them in the "Carrol Prison," in close confinement. They learned that Messrs. North and Cohn had been confined to gether in one room and had not been per mitted to leave it for a moment, during the four days they had been prisoners, for the purpose of answering the calls of nature. They had been supplied with meagre and coarse prison rations, to be eaten in their room where they constantly breathed the foul atmosphere arising from the standing odor. They had no vessel out of which to drink water, except the onefurnished them for urination. Tney had but one chair, and had slept three of the nights of their con finement upon a sack of straw on the floor. They had not been permitted to see a news paper and were ignorant of the cause of their arrest. All communication between them and the outer world had been denied them. The undersigned complained to the acting superintendent, who seemed humanely disposed, but Justified his course by the prison rules and the instructions of his superiors. The undersigned afterwards complained of the treatment of these per sons to the Judge Advocate, and also to the Secretary of War and Assistant Secretary, and were happy to learn, at subsequent visits to the prisoners, that the severities were relaxed and their condition made more tolerable. But at neither , of these visits made to the prisoners by the under signed, were they permitted to see them without special permit, and only in the presence of an officer of the prison. Brief, however, was this indulgence, ,for we read that ' l though for a time the prison brutalities were somewhat modi fied, they were soon taken to a room on the second floor, where they were con fined with thirteen others, and were allowed to purchase food fit to eat, at a high price, of a person supposed to have intimate relations with the head keeper of the prison. On the 26th of Novem ber, for a purpose which will appear, they were taken thence and placed in solitary confinement to subsist on hard tack and fight the vermin which in fested the prison." After a time, the trial, before a mili tary court of which the redoutable hero, Abner Doubleday—the detractor of General Meade—was President, and Holt, of course, prosecutor. During this trial an incident occurred, which but that it is positively stated and proved, we might hesitate to believe. Holt, we infer, finding the evidence against these gentlemen failing, seems to have devised aplan of most sinister ingenuity, using for his instrument an individual, Charles A. Dana, Assistant Secretary of War, who has, through out, shown a singular facility for enter prises of the kind, and having for one of its objects to make poor Mr. Lincoln do some of the dirty work on the occa sion. And very dirty it was. Mr. Cohn, one of the parties on trial, was taken to the White House, and in the presence of the President " pumped " invited to turn State's evidence. The report from which we quote goes on to say : To the desperate extremity to which the administration was driven, Mr. Cohn was sent for by the President, who proposed to try on him the experiment of "my plan." An interview was had at the Presidential mansion, in presence of C. A. Dana, As sistant Secretary of War ; J. A. Foster, Judge-Advocate of the Military Commis sion, and Wood, the keeper of the prison, when Cohn was first given to understand that if he would frankly state "all that he knew about the illegal transactions of Col. North, Mr. Jones, and others, in connection with the soldiers' votes, no harm should come to him," and it was intimated that he might the sooner be in the enjoyment of his own liberty—liberty which long imprison ment and hard fare had rendered doubly precious and desirable. He was also put through a course of " pumping," and alter nate coaxing and bullying—all designed to elicit something which might convict North and Jones and compromise Governor Sey mour. We see, sometimes advertised, en gravings of the "Republican Court, tempore Lincoln"—" Lincoln reading the emancipation proclamation," "Lin coln teaching his boy his lessons," &c. —but here is tableau weilvorth some dark limner's art. bfezz6tint would hardly make it black enough. The President, jocular of course, for pump ing" was to him a merry scene—the half-starved prisoner -Foster in uniform, and above all, Dana, like the detective in "Oliver Twist," clinking the hand cuffs ostentatiously, and representing faithfully his principals, Stanton, and Holt. Really, it is hideous. And yet this scene occurred in the nineteenth cen tury and the Land of Liberty. The Presidential experiment failed. The prisoner was resolute. He knew nothing and could say nothing, and he was taken back to prison, and the trial went on and on the sixth of January, 188.5, lkiubleday and Foster had to put their signatures to the following : [Copyd—The Commission was then eleared for deliberation, and, after due con sideration, do find the accused, Samuel North, Levi Cohn and Marvin M. Jones, as follows: As to the charge—Not guilty. And do therefore acquit said Samuel North, Levi Cohn an Marvin M. Jones. (si gn ed) ABENER DOUBLEDAX, Major-General 1 7011.1nteer8, President of Military Commission. J. A. FOSTER, J. A. ”, BVK dot of Of inial per sulosim VIA 1111 Oen mut Misr. t. 1 ,171 tilelelaii NOM= ' Wants yr mis. &IMAM OTTO:litrilreeatht reenlre. mit rit deaths, 1 cents r unist:rs on• and 6 cents AMP Slityo met finpartion • linatiniSteutaktOota or ion, one linainsaa umn6,11.0, onto 01 tee. ono 10 •••••••••••• LIWAL • D eTaeIIVOTIOIO— .10 11 90 0 a.OO Administrators' Loa Assignees' Los Ameltor' Other "Notices," on WI NN or less, time 1.60 This was on the 6th of JariUary,_ but not until the 19th was It approved by Stanton, or or allowed Oho madepublio, and then Colonel North alone was dis charged, though, as we understand, the fact of his formal acquittal was not coin. xnunicated to him. - . Mr. Jones and the refractory Cohn were detained, and on and 80th, a friend, a Member of Congress from Bunks writes to Colonel North WASHINGTON, Jan. 80, 1806. Colonel 5. North. MY REAR SIR :-I enclose you a certified copy of the• order directing your release, saying you were acquitted. The others are convicted and sentenced to imprisonment for life. So says the Secretary of War. Very truly yours, Jouw GANSOrt. "So says the Secretary of War!" If Mr. Canon tells the truth, Mr. Stanton tormented the distant families of these poor men by a mostatroolous falsehood. The report thus ends: Cohn and Jones were held In strict con finement, suffering the torments of suspense, and uncertain as to their fate. Stanton alone could have been guilty of originating such refined cruelty, as he alone could have taken the position he did in regard to the exchange of our poor suffering prisoners during the war. Holt may also come In for a full share of the infamy attaching to the cruelty practiced towards these innocent parties and their friends, who were told, In answer to the anxious inquiries of the lat ter, that " they were convicted and sen tenced to the State prison for life I" In the face of these inconsistencies, and the prac tice of such proscriptive intolerance two Jones andafter Colonel North's release, and Cohn were set nt libert3r, tho prison doors wore flung open and they were told to "go I" without bearing with them any thing in the form of official discharge to show what had been the finding of the eourt or the reason of their discharge. And not until February 12,1807, more than two years after the original arrest, did these injured men even succeed in procuring a glimpse of the record. It at last sees the light, and goes Into his tory. • American reader—pause and medi tate on all this. Think of it calmly if you can, but at least without the temper which party prejudice may excite. Think of the arrest—the torture in prison —The forty days' trial—The attempt by the President of the United Statesto ex tort a confession—the reluctant acquit tal—the holding back of reparation—and then say if we are not a patient, long suflbring generation. We are sick to Aleuth of hearing of Mr. Lincoln's good nature and gentleness. He was an actor in this scene. To him we owe Seward and Stanton and Holt and Dana, anti he is after all responsible, for he could have conquered the South without it, for the great guilt and heresy of " the endjusti lying the means "—his end being the preservation of a political union his means the disregard of all constitutional restraint. " You ask me," said Cardi nal Pole to Henry VIII, "what crime you have committed. I answer the greatest a man can commit—you have destroyed a Constitution."—Age. Gotta Percha Bank Notes. Mr. L. M. Crane, who has a paper mill near Balaton Spa, N. Y., has re cently perfected an invention that will interpose a greater bar to counterfeiting than any yet made. He has invented machinery by which minute threads of gutta percha are run Into sheets of bank note paper, In the course of its manu facture, whereby the printing becomes' indelible, and cannot be counterfeited. He proposes to offer his invention to the United States Government, so that it can manufacture the paper for all national bank-notes, the same as it does their engraving and printing. His plan contemplates making each denomina tion differently, as is perfectly practical with his machinery. Thus one dollar bills will have one thread each, two dollar bills two threads, five dollar bills three threads; then four threads for tens; five for twenties, six for fifties, seven for one hundreds, eight for five hundreds, and nine for thousands. If the United States Government secures this invention, it can be need for bonds and coupons also. Mr. Crane has in operation In his mill (where he is now making paper collars) a machine by which a thin layer of guttri, percha is incorporated within each sheet of paper. A company has been formed with a capital of one hundred thousand dollars to work this invention.—Times, Troy, N. Y. Condition of AMiirs In Texas Mr. Hoffman sends to the Quincy (Fla.) Commonwealth the following terse account of the present condition of things in Team : " Provisions cheap and abundant ; corn selling about 75 cents per bushel ; pork 4 and 5 cents per pound. Large quantities of wheat made, sufficient for home consumption, at 75 cents per bushel ; horses (pretty fair) from $5O to $100; cotton crop excellent—selling there from 15 to 18 cents in gold ; freed- men behaving very well, and giving general satisfaction ; lands remarkably cheap, from the fact that old owners are desirous of investing in stocks in the western portion of the State, and for the purpose of doing this throw lands upon the market. Emigration unprece dented; health very good; currency gold, except in payment of taxes, when greenbacks are used at 50 per cent. dis count.'' Aged Meat A letter from Stockholm reports that at a meeting of what is known as the Idun Society, recently held there, the members eat for supper beef that was forty years old. In 1827 Captain Parry placed at School Point, Spitzenbergen, a depot of meat. The flesh was in tin boxes, burled beneath a quantity of stones. The white bears had displaced some of the stones and destroyed sev eral of the boxes, but a few still re mained intact, and were brought to Sweden by a Swedish scientific expedi tion. One of these boxes had been given to the Idun Society, who found the meat perfectly eatable and of good flavor. Meeting . of Negroes In Mouth Carolina— 'Ailey are Addressed by General Wade Hampton. The New York papers publish the follow ing piece of news, which shows that the white men of the Southern States are deter mined not to permit the votes of the negroes to be employed against the best interests of their section by a few Radical fanatics: COLUMBIA, March 18, 1867. One of the most remarkable meetings of colored citizens ever held in South Carolina convened bore today, the occasion being the celebration of the passage of the bill enfranchising the colored race. By invitation General Wade Hampton, W. F. Desa.sseur, Edward Arthur, A. F. Talley and Jarvee G. Gibbs addressed the meeting. Rev. David Pickett and Beverly Nash, both colored, also made speehes. Sentiments highly honorable to the negroes were expressed, and the meeting showed signs of gratification at the spirit of politi cal affilation with which they have been met, and the citizens generally were equal ly pleased to find that the colored men evinced a disposition to become identified with the true interests of the State. Should a convention be called the people will nomipste and support the beat men in the country, and as stated by the colored man, Nash, in his speech, they will urge Congress to repeal the disfranchising clause which deprives them of the services of those in whom they have the greatest confidence. At a meeting in New York of the Execu tive Committee of the Board of Fire Insur ance Companies, it was resolved that where the doors and windows of buildings located In streets less than eighty feet in width were so constructed as to admit of their being opened from the outside in case of emer gency, a deduction of ten cents may be made from the standard rate. All stories which have hoistways, dummies, etc, in side of the building without Iron coverings, shall be charged -terrcents - addition to the standard rate. - The Paris Patric contlins a mist rayeteri one anecdote. Young married woman, rich, elegant, lovely, on the point of death, to her husband : " I must confess something. You'll be astonished , that I have proved unfaithful." Towhich the following re ply t " Not more astonished than you yill be to hear that rknow it and for thlareason poisoned you." Very Frenchy , true.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers