tiDhe gautitottr guttittginrct,
PURL; tiED EVERY WEDIQESDAY BY
H. G. SMITH & CO.
•
\,l
A. J. STEINMAN
TE1....113—rw0 'Dollars per annum, payable
all oases In advanoe.
UFFICE--SOIITHWEST CORNER Or CENTRE
SQuARE.
az-11) letters on business should be ad
dressed to H. G. snail & co.
l'iterart.
What the Papers Revealed
" Sir, the gentlemen are coming
clown."
"Indeed ! I suppose then it's all
over. Poor old Nancy ! she will be a
dreadful loss to me." And the speaker
looked up with a sigh from a volume of
Greek plays. which he had been read
ing with evident relish.
The room iu which ti is brief colloquy
took place was a handsome and lofty,
but not very spacious apartment, pan
elled in oak and lined with book-cases;
a massive oak table, quaintly carved,
was drawn near the large old-fashioned
grate, where a fire of mixed coal and
wood burned brightly. Everything in
the room bespoke comfort and luxury,
but of the ornamental element there
was not a single vestige. The original
oak chair had been discarded to make
way fur deep-cushioned lounges, and
in one of these sat the master of the
house, •-;ir Edward Ashly, his hook DOW
closed, plunged in what, is commonly
called "a brown study."
The servant OW, with the uncertain
ty that betrayed a novice to the ways of
the house, moved 'and replaced a tray
containing wine-glasses, decanters, and
biscuits, that she, a minute before, de
posited on the centre-table; she then
busied herself in rearranging the folds
of the window-curtains, glanced in
quisitively from one side of the room to
(tie other, from the huge lamp burning
MI the Cell lre-table, to the smaller pair
on the chimney-piece, and apparently
gaining no inspiration by the inspec
tion, inquired hesitatingly,—
"Anything more, sir',"
" No," said the master, shortly ; "you
limy go."
As he spoke, the heavy curtains that
hung hefore the door were raised, and
two gentlemen entered the room. The
foremost of them looked very grave ; he
was a tall inan with silvery hair, and
his white cravat pronounced hint a
clergyinan.
" I tire glad yiiu sent for me," he said;
" the poor woman, we Dr. Nichol tells
me, grew calm clireetly she heard I was
coming, :ml although greatly agitated
at first, her end was peace,"
"She is deed, then
"Dead, and no mistake," observed
the goifileitiall ',NAM had not yetspoken,
rubbing his hands cheerfully, and up
proaehing the blaze. "I never allow
the parson to be summoned till till hope
is over; the sight of 0111! is too sugges
tive to a nervous patient. But," he
added niore seriously, "when I l'eel my
ellorts to he hopeless, I make way for
the disciple au baler Physician."
"Poor old Nancy !" said Sir Edward,
regret f u ll y. 11W HI ,
skill could have
saved her , I till : , I.llle yours would. And
now draw nearer the lire ; you will re
quire a glas.; of wine before venturing
into the frosty air."
" You see I did not wait for an invi
tation," rentarked the clergyman, who
was already seittsml; " I consider myself
one of the privileged few who may veil•
tore with impunity into the lion's den."
" It would be strange if you could not,
Nugent," answered Sir Edward ; " for,
of coltree , by the lion you [neat! me. A
chat over old college days sometimes
does good even to a hermit."
"And \vhat a her,mit you have be
come!" was Mr. Nugent's reply; "it
seems impossible to understand why a
man, who has lived ill his life in conti
nental courts, should return home
merely to shut himself up."
" For that "try reason you ought to
understand it," linswered his friend.
" \\Then I first left England many years
ago, I required . the whirl of action and
and continual change of scene; but I
was ambassador to Spain long enough
to wish heartily I had never accepted
the post, independent of my earlier di
plomatic experiences in Turkey and
Russia. Such responsibilities give a
surfeit of society, I assure you, aud ren
der repose inexpressibly desirable and
grateflll."
here interposed the doctor,
confess that your perfect
seeltision is a mystery to me: no dervish
could worship solitude with more perti
nacity:. of course, personally, it makes
the exception in my favor more flatter
ing; but caul you wonder at the indig
nation or the county when a man in
your position, Sir Edward Ashly, of
Ashly _Hall, indulges ill such unortho
dox tastes."
" Thal indignation has long ago died
out," answered Sir Edward, good-hu
moredly; "the world is, fortunately,
very willing to forget those who forget
it; my return and retirement were the
conventional Min-days' wonder, npth
ing more. Besides, I ant not without
companions," he added, pointing - to the
book cases round the room.
"Anti these have been your only
companions ever since you came back
to England'?" the doctor said, interro•
gatively, his eyes following the direc
tion indicated; "why, that must be
nearly four years."
".lust four years."
" And during all that time you have
had no other servant to wait upon you
but, the poor old woman lying above'?"
"No other"
'More of your eccentricity, cried Mr.
Nugent,. " Not only you restrict your
household to one sole attendant, but
you choose for the post the ugliest and
most repulsive sample of womanhood I
ever beheld. lam now merely speak
ing or itppeitranvo+, for I remember how
well and faithfully she served you, and
have of ten remarked with astonishment
her wonderful quietness and rapidity
while waiting On us at table; but how
could you have ever brought yourself to
look at her'.''
"llnl, 1, 1 suppose. There were two
other servants In the !louse besides old
Nancy, but you never saw them, for she
const tutted herselnuy special attendant,
gilding about noiselessly, and keeping
the others, with their creaking shoes,
always in tile lower regions. It was
such ~tolort. The house might have
been onootged hy Invisible fairies, so
punetuaily , and silently everything was
done."
"How much you will miss her!"
said :Mr. Nugent.
"More than I can tell you. When I
first returned from abroad, my present
head groom, who was then my valet,
chose her for me from among the few
who presented themselves; for there
were not many willing to take service
in a great, lonely country house, de
serted except In rho Wing, without any
prospect of company or variety. He
'chose her for the qualities which would
have deterred you, anti which made her
so inestimable to 'tie, her excessive
ugliness, her Insurmountable taciturn
ity, and lier activity, remarkable for so
old a woman; and he certainly chose
well. The poor creature fell into niy
ways silently and at once; her seamed
and scarred lace was an ever-preseut
assurance of the impossibility of lovers
and interlopers; her grim determina
tion and surliness, a guarantee of her
empire below stairs; and, to give you
an idea of the really 'unprecedented
value of old Nancy, I do not remember
Laving once exchanged as many as six
words with her during the four years
that she was my exclusive and constant
attendant."
Sir Edward :N. shly concluded his sen
tence in the slow and impressive tone
always adopted when the culminating
point of a eulogy Is reached.
Dr. Nichol smiled. "Words are as
Sliver, but silence is gold," he quoted.
"1 always thought, for nay part, that
your old servant was a mute, until
called in to attend her, and I am
ashamed to say, although not a timid
man, that her ghastly, fossilized face
used to frighten me. It is painful to
think how much we are influenced by
looks," the doctor said; "and in eases
like present, how unjustly so. My
dear Ashly, you will find it difficult to
replace this poor woman. Such quail-
Ries us those you esteem most are rare."
" don't expect I shall everreplace her.
Already that girl who emerged from the
back premises when poor Nancy gave up
work (which she did not till the last
Moment) has driven me to the verge of
Insanity; rushing about, bustling, fuss
ing, and actually tormenting me for
orders. Orders! Why, Nancy never
'* . gitit?eota littettiwitt&t
VOLUME 68
asked me for an order in her life. She
did everything by intuition, and never
left anything undone. Poor faithful
old monster, I shall miss her steady,
unobtrusive services, as I would the
presence of an old friend."
" How long was she ill ?" asked the
rector.
" Two days," the doctor said, reply
ing for his host. "When I was first sent
for, I saw there was no hope ; the frame
completely shattered and worn out ; and
I asked the poor woman if she would
like to go home. She said she had no
home."
- - -
" Poor thing!" observed Sir Edward;
" I did not know that ; but in any
case, I think it a cruelty to send a ser
vant away for getting sick, as if it were
a crime. Yet this is often done. For
my part, I gave orders that poor Nancy
should receive as much care as myself,
in proof of which she was attended by
my favorite doctor."
"You could not do less, even in a
human point of view," answered Mr.
Nugent; " besides, this old woman
always struck me as a perfect Cerberus
of trustworthiness and vigilance; and,
from what you say, she must have ex •
ceeded all I gave her credit for."
"Four years of untiring service are a
great test," Sir Edward said, with a
groan. " I expect I shall soon learn, to
my cost, how invaluable she has been
to me."
"By the by, what was her name ?"
asked the doctor; " we shall want it for
the burial certificate."
" I don't know," moodily replied the
host, 'whose thoughts were occupied
with his difficulty in the mutter of
household reorganization ; " I never
heard,—l always called her Nancy."
" We can easily settle that question,"
said the rector, producing a roll of
papers from his pocket; " the poor crea
ture's mind was solely ill at ease, and
one ()flier last efforts was expended in
drawing this packet from under her
pillow, saying it would tell all about
her."
With these words Mr. Nugent handed
the papers to t•Air Edward, who began
listlessly to unroll them ; but no sooner
had his eyes fallen on the first word,
than, with a smothered sound, as if lie
had received a heavy blow, lie clutched
nervously at the table, and his face,
from pale, became perfectly livid, With
wild eagerness, he perused the docu
ments, and when the last had becnread,
lie raised his head, revealing to his
astonished companions, a lace so
changed as lobe almost unrecognizable,
—gliastly„expressionless, and awful in
Its vacancy. Then, before either of his
friends, paralyzed by the suddenness of
the attack,
could utter a word, his grasp
relaxed, the papers fluttered to the
ground, and he fell back rigid and in
sensible.
Both gentlemen Ilew to his assistance,
and endeavc'red to restore him, but un
successfully. The servant•girl nearly
took leave of her senses, when summon
ed by Dr. Nichol, at the sight of her
master, motionless and apparently dead,
and threatened to faint herself, when
the doctor resorted to his lancet, all
simple restoratives having failed. As
the blood started, in obedience to the
summons, the baronet moaned, and
opened his eyes.
"All right!" exclaimed the doctor,
twisting a handkerchief round the in
cision ; in a very few moments 'Rich
ard will be himself again.' "
"Doctor, can you account for this
whispered Mr. Nugent, whose curiosity
rose as his fears lessened. " Was it
caused by those rapers.."
" Undoubtedly. Perhaps a date, or
even a stray word, may have brought
too vividly before him sonic forgotten
circumstance. Certain it is, that the
mind first, and then the body, gave way
under a mental shock."
"The body—yes; but the mind ?"
said the rector, in a horror-struck voice.
"You don't mean to say—"
"O! only for the moment, of course,"
answered the doctor. "Look at him
now! in five minutes he will be as well
as if nothing had happened."
"Thank God!" ejaculated Mr. Nu
gent, greatly relieved.
By degrees Sir Edward's color re
turned. "Those papers?" were his first
words.
"0, never mind the papers, Ashly,"
said the rector ; "leave them to me, and
I will see about everything. The fire
was too hot for you, and you fainted."
"No, Nugent. You know, as well as
Dr. Nichol, that it was not the lire. I
saw in those papers a name that I never
expected to see again, and learned from
them a strange and wonderful fact,—so
wonderful that it is impossible to real
ize it. The unexpected resurrection of
that name prostrated me; but now the
shock is over, I feel I shall derive com
fort from what I have discovered."
" Good!" said the doctor, as if dis
missing the subject. " 'All's well that
ends well.' "
" But," Sir Edward continued, "you
ask me no questions, and I appreciate
your delicacy, for you must have been
startled and mystified; but there is now
no reason why I should not enlighten
you. The one great episode of my life
has been revived to-night; the episode
which made mea wanderer from youth
to age from my native laud. The long
buried memories have been Suddenly
recalled to life; you shall hear them, if
you like."
The faces of both gentlemen betrayed
eager curiosity, but Mr. Nu,geuthesitat
ed. "If the mere recollection has been
too much fur you, a long recital will
surely do you harm," he said.
"No," answered Sir Edward,—"it
was ie surprise that upset me; and,
moreover, brooding upon such a past
would be worse than relating lt."
"'Prate," said the doctor, nodding
assent'"
"brooding would be worse.
And his sanction settled the question.
"I really owe you an explanation of
my strange emotion," their host then
said, heaping additional logs on the lire
from a handsome carved wood-case that
stood beside his 'chair, a relic of conti
nental habits. "Draw near ; and while
we share the house between us and the
dead up stairs, I will tell you what
those papers recalled, }cud what they
revealed."
When I bade farewell to a college life
—leaving you, Nugent, winning the
praises of all and, the envy of some—l
started at once for Wales, on a visit to
Sir Andrew Heath. This visit had been
a long-planned project of my parents,
and originated, strangely enough, in a
romantic attachment of Sir Andrew's
for my mother. My father, who had
been the confidant of the lover, ulti•
mutely became the husband ; but, con
trary to the usual rule in such cases, no
quarrel ensued. Sir Andrew, shortly
afterwards, married an heiress, who,
fortunately for him, shared his love for
the country, and they lived quite out of
the world, ou . their estates in Wales.
My father, Sir Edward Ashly, had only
one child, a son; Sir Andrew Heath
had only one child, a daughter. The
result is obvious ; to cement the two
friendships, to join the two fortunes, to
connect the two families—such was the
dream of our respective parents from
our earliest 'years.
As a child, I had been accustomed to
speak of my little wife, but I had never
seen her; my father had a theory ou
the subject, and did not believe in years
of childish familiarity being favorable
to the development of the tender pas
sion ; so it was arranged that not until
I had come to 11101.08 estate, and had
left college, was I to see the young lady
and judge for myself whether the
wishes so long entertained by the
houses of Ashly and Heath were likely
to be realized. I\ ry father's system was
certainly a good one ; no constraint was
laid upon me ; I was merely made ac
quainted with the facts of the case, and
left to decide for myself. In conse
quence of the young lady being person
ally unknown to me, the charms of
expectation and conjecture were added
to the greater interests involved, and I
started on my journey to Wales in a
state of excitement and suspense that
would have delighted my father and
Sir Andrew, could they but have
known it.
I am telling you a story of many years
ago, before railways were everywhere,
and isolation an impossibility. such is
truly the case now, but in those days
many parts of the country were almost
unattainable; and my journey to Glen
twyr, a thinly populated district in the
most distant section of Wales, was an
affair of no inconsiderable magnitude.
llany days, in various coaches, brought
me to within some fifty miles of my
destination, where I found Sir Andrew
Heath's carriage in waiting, with post
horses, to carry me the rest of the way.
The approach to Glentwyr was a scene
of barren picturesqueness almost savage
in its desolation, but very beautiful,
nevertheless. I did notremember hav
ing seen a single human habitation
from the time I entered the carriage till
I drove through the little village of
Glentwyr. All the stdries of fairy pal
aces I had loved to read as a boy rushed
to my memory when I first laid eyes on
Sir Andrew Heath's grand old house,
lying in a wide-spreading, sheltered
valley, and encompassed round by the
finest and boldest mountains in the
country. I have often been reminded
of its situation by one of our most sym
pathetic modern poets, in a reference
be makes to a similar scene, which he
describes happily as
" A lovely land•leelied vale."
Sir Andrew received me at the door of
his house,—an honest, open-hearted,
country gentleman, somewhat boister
ous, I thought,—probably an active
sportsman and farmer. Such was my
first impression, and I had some preten
sions to unusual powers of observation.
He led me at once to Lady Heath, and
left us to make acquaintance. She
struck me as a delicate woman, rather
preoccupied with her health, but in a
graceful, feminine way, not devoid of a
certain charm ; and before we bad been
many minutes together, I was wholly
fascinated by that indescribable gentle
ness which, for want of a better word,
we call womanliness, and which she
possessed to a remarkable extept.
It was during that interview that I
first looked on my long-dreatued•ol be
trothed. Where was she? Had she
heard of my arrival? How soon should
I see her? Such were the questions 1
was asking myself,—a feeling of rest
less impatience stealing over me. When
she entered the room, on perceiving me,
she started, as if unprepared for my
presence, but went through the cere
mony of introduction with haughty
stateliness. To say she was handsome
would be to use au expression con
temptibly weal:,—there was something
startling in her faultless lovliness ;
highly-colored and ideal as all my pre
conceived portraits had heed, I had
never pictured in my imagination a
beauty so dazzling as hers. She held a
book in her hand, and I heard from her
mother that she was a greati,r r eader ;
from her I could not obtain a word.
This reticence continued throughout
the whole of that first dap, and tor long
all er wards.
I must not weary you with minute
details, though every hour spent under
that roof is as vivid to me as if it trad
only occurred yesterday. Let it suffice
to say, that as day after day passed by,
uneventful and monotonous, .I. could
not thaw the icy reserve Miss Heath
had shown me froth the first.
Alone, comparatively speaking, in a
country house, it seemed almost impos
sible, dial c.msbint companionship
should not inevitably render an increase
of familiarity; yet, far from this, her
manner, with time, only grew more
distant and undemonstrative; and, if
occasionally I sought to join her solitary
rambles in the park, she would either
acquiesce silently, laying down with
ostentatious resignation some favorite
book, or darkly hint a vague taunt
about forced companionship. I was
honestly mystified. I could not decide
whether to attribute her varying, but
always disdainful mood, to a naturally
morbid charact /r, self-cultured in soli
tilde, or to a studied motive for which'
was imposible to conjecture a cause.
That I was personally distasteful to
her, as my fears sometimes suggest•
ed, seemed contradicted by the fact
that in the very first hour we met,
before she could have formed any
opinion adverse or favorable to rue, her
manner had been equally repelling.
Besides, if such a feeling existed, why
not express it? Her marriage was not
compulsory, and I felt sure that what
ever might be my sufferings, and their
disappointment, Her parents would
never force a sacrifice to their wishes,
from an only child.
With Sir Andrew and Lady Heath, 1
was soon on tLe friendliest terms, and
their open-hearted kindness formed a
strong contrast to their daughter's un
fathomable nature. To them, therefore,
I confided all my doubts, and certainly
found consolation. Sir Andrew attribu
ted his daughter's reserve-to the natural
shyness of a young girl, brought up in an
almost uninhabited part of the country,
isolated from all society, having never
let a young man before; and, more
over, aware of the object of my visit to
Glentwyr,—an additional reason for
conscious bashfulness. He argued that
the reserve which alarmed me ought,
rather to be a source of satisfaction, as
showing the delicate and sensitive na
ture of the girl I hoped to make my
wife.
Lady Heath, with truer instinct, de-
dared her daughter's manner, but it
appeared to occasion her no surprise.
Miss Heath, she told me, was reticent
and undemonstrative, even with her
parents; she had lived on books ever
since she had been able to read, and
had resisted every ellort of her mother's
to stop her constant supplies of indis
criminate literature. "1 feared," con
cluded Lady Heath, "that so much
reading, in a life of inaction, might
tend to a morbid state of mind; but
fabriella is of a strong nature, and I am
of a weak one; and though she never
openly disobeyed me, I foresaw great
difficulties In depriving her of her only
pleasure ; especially as I could not hope
to make Sir Andrew understand my
view of the ease."
There was something so reassuring
and so plausible in all this reasoning
that 1 gladly allowed myself to be con
vinced by it; resolved that, If patience
only was required, 1 would emleavor to
emulate that of Jacob for his beloved
Rachel ; for the beauty of this strange
girl had enslaved me. I could not call
the feeling love,—however strong the
passionate element in love, there still
must be a large ilhare of personal iden
tity, a real or supposed sympathy with
individual character; something be
yond the mere outward impression on
the senses, to compass the full meaning
log of the word; whereas Gabriella
Heath's mind was a sealed book to Inc,
her character• as inscrutable, her feel
ings, If she had any, as impenetra•
ble as those of the sphinx. But an ad
miration stronger than reason, and
overwhelming iu intensity, grew upon
me In spite of myself. It may be that
the mystery of her unalterable reserve
gave additional fascination to her al
ready irresistible loveliness; for her
cold, proud face was full of power, and
the character of her beauty the complete
reverse of what would be generally at
tributed to a passionless nature. But,
whatever the cause, the result was that
my whole life and thoughts became
concentrated Into a desire to lead he, to
a betrayal of her real nature ; and many
were the traps I laid to find the bent of
her mind, and oirthat clew to shape my
course.
There were times when a gleam of
animation rewarded my perseverance.
I remember especially one occasion
that, seeing her with a history of the
first French revolution in her hand, I
made sciine trivial remark on the pathetic
incidents of the time,
the sufferings of
the weak, well-meaning king, the de
gradation of the beautiful, proud queen,
and the unhappy, heart-renderingstory
of the poor child, Louis XVII. She
turned on me with unexampled scorn ;
"Of course," she sneered, "what is
it if people groan for generations under
the pressure of tyranny and wrong?
What if they toil, and faint, and per.
ish to supply a proper succession
of pleasures to their superiors? What
if ,they die by thousands of starva•
Mon and.penury ? It is their business
the purpose for which they are created;
but if, by some mistake, a latent spark
of manhood struggles to the surface and
they rise upon their oppressors, or the
representatives of their oppressors, to
proclaim a glorious equality, theta the
LANCASTER PA WEDNESDAY MORNING SEPTEMBER 11 1867
necessary sacrifice of two or three lives
is a blot upon the page of history, hith
erto quite unsullied by the myriads of
deaths among the people, caused by ini
quitous and heartless misgovernment.
if such narrow-minded egotism is edu
cation, you had better not have gone to
college."
Her extraordinary warmth on so com
pletely abstract a subject, quite bewil
dered me; her philosophy, too, though
perhaps well founded, sounded strange
from the lips of a girl scarcely twenty
years of age; and it seemed to me, as
days wore on, that I knew her less and .
less.
Beyond this one outbreak, however,
and an occasional sarcasm when any
question of social distinction was start
ed, I never got any further clew to Miss
Heath's real character, her unvarying
placidity remained as unimpressionable
as ever. At length, when days and
weeks brought me apparently no near
er the object of my mission than in the
first hour of my arrival, I resolved, in a
fit of despair, to brave all consequences,
and propose to Gabriella. Her whole
conduct was such an enigma, that I
thought it might possibly conceal an
inclination favorable to myself; and at
all hazards a declaration would lead me
to a partial solution of the puzzle.
When I apprized Sir Andrew of my
intention, he implored me to delay un
til we knew more of each other. To this
I replied that I had given up all hope
of ever knowing more of Gabriella, and
that I had certainly been at Glentwyr
long enough for her to know me fully.
I did not tell him how much I was be
ginning to suffer from this protracted
suspense; how, with every succeeding
day, my passionate admiration made
le barrier betweeu us au ever-increas-
lug torture; yet, with the cowardly
consciousness that a refusal might re
sult in banishment from her presence,
I listened to Sir Andrew's warnings
against precipitancy.
" \Vait, at least," he said, " tlil
after the fair—a most important
era in the lives of all Glentwyr
people. Once a year this little village
awakes to life; buyers and sellers, ma
rionttles and menageries flock in, for
the day, from all parts of the country ;
and every one, from the highest to the
lowest, is expected to be in a state of
excitement and exultation at the great
event_ Even Ch‘hrlellu forgets her
books, and seems as interested as the
busiest when the falrthne comes round.
" You will have an opportuhity of seeing
her as you have not seen her yet, and
may then find the secret spring to her
favor, which you do not seem sure of
having yet discovered. She is, perhaps,
a little cold, and, like all women, ca
pricious; too much precipitation may
rouse her opposition, and I think you
now concur enough in the family wishes
to dread this. Therefore I say, wait a
little. In my day young men were not
in Such a terrible hurry to give way to
despair."
And accordingly I waited.
There certainly was a change iu Miss
Heath; her placid tranquility was re
placed by an unmistakable restlessness.
She now often joined our general con
versation, always in iroducing the sub
ject of the fair, either proposing to her
father to throw open the park gates and
give a banquet to all comers, or declaring
her intention of passing the whole day
in the village iu the midst of the festi
val.
My heart beg an to beat with a sensa
tion almost lik hope as I noticed this
change ; there was something so natural
and girlish in her interest for the coming
gala, and anxiety for the people's en
joyment of their holiday, that I argued
well from the contrast to the indiffer
ence she had hitherto shown for every
thing.
Sir Andrew readily entered into ail
sympathy for the villagers, and promised
that the presence of the party from the
castle should not be wanted to crown the
occasion as a complete success. To me
the projected fair was a species of revela
thou* ; it seemed to explain away my
principal doubts, and account for Ga
briella's outward apathy by her life of
unnatural stagnation. Lady Heath had
said, that her daughter was a girl of
strong mind ; she had been brought up
in an atmosphere so dull and eventless
as to be absolute petrifaction, and had
probably ended in creating a fictitious
existence feu• herself, though her books,
in which, as far as thought and feeling
went, she absolutely lived. From this
imaginary region, pleasure, excitement,
variety alone could wean her, perma
nently, perhaps; temporarily, certainly,
as her activity for the coming festival
abundantly testified. There was still
one drawback to my growing confidence.
\Vining, as Gabriella was, to converse
on the subject of the corning festivity
with we, especially when alone, she
was as silent and reserved as ever; not
even on the all-absorbing topic could I
get her to utter an opinion ; she froze at
once, whenever I. attempted to address
her.
\\ hen, at last, the long-expected
morning dawned, and I threw open my
window to let in the glorious sunshine,
distant noises from the village, princi•
pally the discordant noies of primitive
musical instruments, came wafted in on
the air. I fancied, as I listened, that
Gabriella must have been disturbed by
these sounds many hours before, for
here were the only rooms that looked
out towards the village, and were much
better situated for seeing and hearing
than any others in the castle. Indeed,
with a goodglass, she could probably
distinguish the movements of the busy
multitude, and count the number of
booths and tents erected during the
night. She certainly never looked more
beautiful than when we met that morn-
lug at the breakfast table: her grand
eyes sparkling somewhat restlessly, and
her cheeks flushed with a color almost
feverLsh in its intensity.
Sir Andrew also seemed impressed
with the importance of the occasion.
An annual Idc, that his mere presence
sanctioned, was an Institution far more
to his taste than the gayeties of society,
that he had tired of at a very early age.
Lady 11 eat ii looked at father and daugh
ter with au amused smile. She had
lived in the fashionable world for many
years, an acknowledged belle and a
courted heiress. Fortunately for the
'blunt country gentleman she chose, a
belief in her own extreme delicacy and
failing health led her to prefer a life of
perfect retirement to any other; but the
importance allowed to this little rustic
festivity by Sir Andrew and Gabriella,
recalled, no doubt, lu startling contrast, I
some memories of the busy life beyond
the little world of Glentwyr. Never
theless, in her quiet way, she shared
her husband's and child's wishes for the
successful issue of the holiday, and con
sented for once to forget her ailments,
and accompany us to the scene of
action. The great event of the day was
to be a wrestling-match between the
chosen champions of the surrounding
villages; so, after wandering a short .
time among the temporary booths,
lavishing small coins on every side, and
patronizing for a few moments each
separate show, we were led to the seat
of honor reserved for us on the field,
where the modern tournament was to
take place. I say "tournament" ad
visedly, for, however unromantic and
degenerate this display of brute force
might be, compared with the knightly
feats of tilting, au old fiavorof chivalry
was cast upon the scene, in the custom,
revived by Miss Heath, of crowning the
victor. Had the exhibition been twice
as interesting as it possibly waslshould
not have noticed a single detail. My
whole attention was riveted on my be!
trothed. She follawed the varying
scene with breathless interest, and
seemed transfigured suddenly from an
insensate statue into a passionate, pal
pitating woman. Even Sir Andrew
remarked the change, for he looked at
me triumphantly, and at his daughter,
as 14 struck with an unusual sense of
het exceeding loveliness.
You will think I am infringing on my
privileges as A. narrator, in dwelling so
often on the, wondrous attractions of
this young girl. Forgive me; I cannot
help it, and I shall not tax your pa-
tience much longer, In a few minutes
I shall have ceased forever to trespass
in this respect. Till then, and. while
I am endeavoring to recall the scene on
the village green, the most prominent
point in the picture must be the almost
superhuman beauty of Gabriella in her
transformation,
for such it was.
As I have before mentioned, I did
not follow the details of the struggle,
but every phase of it was reproduced
in my betrothed's changing face. At
one moment it lighted up with enthu
siasm, her cheeks burned,. her lips
parted, and her whole frame seemed
thrilling with excitement, and uncon
sciously she half rose from her seat; at
another moment I saw her turn so
deadly pale, I thought she would have
fainted, and, seriously alarmed, I whis
pered to Lady Heath, who, looking
around, was frightened at her daugh
ter's pallor. Come away at once,
dearest," she said, holding out her arm
to support the trembling girl ; " this
has been too much for you." But with
a strong effort, that showed how com
plete was her mastery over herself, Ga
briella, on being remarked, recovered
her composure. "No, mamma," she
said, " I am not ill—l cannot go—we
must stay to the end. And without
giving her mother time to answer, she
appealed to Sir Andrew, who, intent
on the wrestling, had observed nothing.
and of course consented. Following the
direction of his eyes, I sought the cause
of Gabriella's emotion, and saw one of
the hitherto most successful wrestlers
rrostrate and wounded on the ground.
t was evident that such a display was
not fit for a girl unused to the slightest
excitement; while at the same time it
showed how rich in human sympathies
was her apparently cold nature, how
delicate her sensibilities, how much too
trying the present tension on her nerves.
With the simplicity of a child she suf
fered with the fallen, and trampled with
the victorious; and when at last the
conqueror was brought to her feet to be
crowned, she performed the ceremony
with a pride and solemnity too full of
grace to be ridiculous. I scarcely re
marked the recipient of this honor, who
appeared to be a strongly built, hand
some young fellow, with a rather sheep
ish expression of face.
On our return to the castle, Gabriel
la's vivacity deserted her; exhausted
probably by the fatiguing events of the
day, she sank Into her usual listless
silence, and retired early to her own
apartment. Gentlemen, I have reached
a point in my story that It is agony
even to recall ; every hour of that fatal
evening lives again as I rake up the
long-buried memory ; nearly forty
'ears—a lifetime—lie between me and
t, yet even now, I dare not dwell
upon it.
Briefly, then, our usual evening's
amusement, chess-4between Lady Heath
and me, while Sir Andrew invariably
dozed in an easy-chair—was ou this oc
casion interrupted more than once by
noisy cries from the village, which in
creased steadily, and, to judge by the
sound, seemed coming nearer. Present
ly all doubt ou this score was confirmed,
the shouts grew louder and louder, and
we could almost distinguish voices.
"Strange that this noise has not dis
turbed Gabriella," muttered Sir Au
drew,—"hers is the only room from
which anything could be seen ; go, my
dear, and find out what it is."
Lady Heath was pale, and evidently
alarmed. ' Come with me," she said.
And Sir Andrew siezed one of the
branch candlesticks from the table, and
followed her out of the room.
I waited anxiously—not long, how
ever. A minute had barely elapsed,
before a wild shriek rang through the
house—a shriek so piercing, so full of
terror, that, reckless of consequences, I
rushed to the spot, following in the
wake of Sir Andrew, who was just then
entering his daughter's inner chamber.
What this chamber was like I never
knew. I felt that the window was
open, for the night air blew upon my
face; but my eyes were fastened upon
the scene within. Lady Heath lay on
the ground in a fainting fit, mercifully
unconscious for some moments of what
ensued. Sir Andrew, totally oblivious
of his corpse-like wife, whose most fan
ciful complaint had always filled him
with concern—was looking steadily,
and with grins determination into the
room, at the other actors in this horri
ble drama. For there were two—Cia
briella, her long hair falling loose upon
her shoulders, stood boldly forward,
with her arms spread out, as if to form
a barrier, and behind her—a man. In
tuis man I recognized the hero of the
wrestling-match, the successful champ
ion of the morning's sports. His courage
was certainly not of the moral order, for
he shuffled uneasily, and at sight of Sir
Andrew's set facesheltered himself more
completely behind the dauntless girl,
who stood before him like some hunted
animal at bay.
It was she who first broke the awful
silence : " He is my husban 1," she said,
tearing some papers from her bosom,
and offering them to us ; "he is my
husband, and I love him."
No one responded to the gesture; but
Sir Andrew in a voice so changed, that
I started at hearing it, merely asked
the man,—" Is this true"."
The creature muttered au affirmative,
and some words in extenuation about
her having made him marry her. But
Sir Andrew interrupted. Stern, col
lected, and therefore merciless, I re, og
mzed what these easy-going, indolent
natures can sometimes hide of intense
ower and self-control. His voice alone
etrayed the effort: " That will do," he
said. " I want no explanation. I have
seen. That is enough. You are free to
go. Take that woman with you ; she
is no child of mine, and she has killed
her mother." He pointed to the inani
mate form of Lady Heath, and turned,
with pitiless calmness, to speak to his
daughter. "You have chosen dishonor
deliberately ; abide by it ; you are no
longer anything to me that I should
seek to rescue you, From this hour re
move your accursed presence, your
tainted person, from the roof to which
your shame has brought undying dis
honor and disgrace. Go!" he added,
more bitterly, 'join the witnesses you
have summoned to your triumph."
"Then, for the first time, I looked
round, and perceived through the win
dow, at some little distance, the group
of peasants whose clamor had originally
disturbed us. They had missed the
hero of the day from their revels, and
suspecting him of having abandoned
them for the company of the castle ser
vants, had followed him in a state of
noisy intoxication. Blit now, awe
struck into silence, they stood huddled
together, gazing up through the dim
night into the brilliantly-lighted room
where so strange a scene was being en
acted.
For one moment Gabriella quailed
under father's words; then raising her
head defiant as before,—
" You will regret this harshness when
you know all," she said • and, without
even a glance at her mother, she seized
the crestfallen champion by the hand,
and almost dragged him from the room..
Then followed a scene that I cannot
attempt to describe. The unhappy girl
gone, Sir Andrew was himself again,
hanging over his still unconscious wife
in an agony of tenderness; while the
scared servants bustled about the house,
getting restoratives for their mistress.
But from the shock of that night Lady
Heath never fully recovered. Although
the very next day she left Glentwyr
forever with Sir Andrew, time brought
her but little consolation. She died
shortly afterwards at Pau, in the Pyre
nees, having never seen or heard of her
daughter since that fatal night. Poor
Sir Andrew did not long survive his
wife.
After her death, I persuaded him to
join me in Italy. Glentwyr Castle had
been sold ; and not only had he forbid
den Gabriella's name to be mentioned
before him, but he refused to be made
acquainted with her whereabouts, her
prospects, or her position. From this
resolution he never swerved. In small
things tolerant beyond most people,
once his sense of honor was touched, his
whole nature became metamorphosed.
In the same degree that he had been a
credulous and adoring father, so was he
afterwards a relentless and unforgiving
judge; and on the few occasions on
which I ventured to sound him on the
subject, he invariably replied, with per
fect calmness, that he bore no ill-will to
the peasantry of Wales, with the excep
tion of one woman who had deliberately
dishonOred a name stainless for genera
tions, and had moreover, murdered his
wife. Did I require him to Belie this
special woman as a recipient .of his
gratitude? With. these feelings un
changed, he died about.a year after the
catastrophe that had broken up his
home, his hopes, and happiness; and
in his will Gabriella was formally dis
inherited.
My friends, in all this I have not
spoken to you of myself. How could
any words give an idea of the bitterness
of a trial such as mine? I can relate
naked facts, the desolation of a hearth,
the degradation of a name, the deaths of
a stricken woman and broken-hearted
man, my own voluntary exile for long
and weary years, the ruin of my hopes,
the blasting of the youngest and
what should have been the brightest
portion of my life; but to describe or
detail the sufferings that such things
bring with them is not in the power of
mere language. •
When I left England as attache to a
foreigh ernta.ssy, it was partly to shun
the land of such cruel experiences, and
partly because my father feared that, if
at home, a morbid desire to find out
what had become of Gabriella Heath
might prompt me to seek her out. Cer
tain it is that I listenell eagerly to all
news from England, in a stupid, un
reasoning way, as though it were possi
ble that any despatches could contain
intelligence of au obscure cottage in
some remote part of Wales. The feel
ing may have been presentiment,—a
foreshadowing of the future that some
people possess, for there wasyetauother
link to be added to that hapless chain of
events.
One morning, w hi le scanning as usual
the English newspapers, my heart gave
a sudden bound as the familiar name,
Gabriella Heath, caught my eye. Once
more that fatal name was destined to be
associated with calamity, and this time
with guilt. The paper stated briefly
that a young woman known as Gabby
Wynn, daughter of the late Sir Andrew
and Lady Gabriella Heath, of Glentwyr
Castle and Rocklands, &c., was ar
raigned for the wilful murder of her
husband, James Wynn. My first in
stinct was a wild desire to start for
England, which I should certainly
have yielded to but I was most unex
pectedly chained. I could not get leave
of absence. I did not then lenow that
my father had sent word to detain me;
but if I could have thrown up my ap
pointment with honor, 1 should cer
tainly have done so. I lived in a kind
of dream during the progress of that
terrible trial. With feverish anxiety I
watched for the arrival of the malls ;
and then, with a copy of the public pa
pers, hurried offto battle alone with the
horror of the awful details. The ac
counts were pitiless and precise. The
case for the prosecution was short, and
to this effect : That Gabriella Heath
had fallen violently In love with and
married the man Wynn,—and here
some painful references to the disparity
of their social positions, and her broken
hearted parents, were given,—that he
had brought her home to his father's
farm, and had been a good husband to
her, in spite of the objections of his
family to seeing a fine lady among
them; that she was proud and violent,
unwilling to conciliate her new rela
tions, and accustomed to exasperate her
husband by incessant scenes of scornful
reproach and vituperation; that on one
of these occasions, returniughome, tired
out from a day's labor, she met him with
such a volley of unprovoked and bitter
taunts, that, iu a lit of indignation, he
raised his hand and struck her. That
night lie was found murdered in his
bed. Such was the substance of the
accusation, without the comments and
remarks with which it was interspersed.
The prisoner—my soul revolted at the
expressiou—pleaded guilty, and sullen
ly refused to say a word in extenuation
of her crime. But the unhappy woman
was not wholly forsaken. Some dis
tant connections of the Heath family,
anxious, if possible, to lessen the addi
tional disgrace which threatened their
doomed house had engaged for the
defence one of the ablest lawyers
of the day ; and he certainly made
as much out of his miserable ma
terials as- was possible. Ingeniously
avoiding any attempt at refutation of
the crime, or any direct reference to the
crushing facts of the accusation, he
slid, with apparent unconsciousness,
into the strain, always so powerful with
English juries, of an appeal to their
sympathies. The woman before them
was still young and very beautiful ; and,
in words of glowing eloquence, he wove,
from the stores of his imagination, a
pathetic tale of her life and sufferings.
First representing the young girl in her
aristocratic home, surrounded by all
conceivable luxuries; then painting
her romantic devotion, her sacrifice of
all for love ; and crowning the elaborate
imaginary picture by a vivid descrip
tion of what the gradual disenchant
ment, the daily and hourly loss of
cherished illusions, the terrible waking
from the ideal to the real, the discovery,
too late, that the idol of gold was an
idol of clay,—what these must have
been to a highly-wrought awl sensitive
nature.
" God forbid ! gentlemen of the jury,"
he said, " that I should attempt to palli
ate this crime ; but in shrinking from
lie act, I cannot forget the provocation.
'rampled on and insulted by the man
through whom she had lost all,—naive
and fame, home and friends,—reviled
and disowned lop him, deceived and
degraded by him, this woman expiated
in years of bitterness—who can estimate
their bitterness t'—the crime of having
loved too faithfully. But even the
veriest worm will turn at length. There
came aslay when the one drop that
tilled it to overflowing was poured into
this woman's cup. Encouraged by the
applauding jeers of every member of his
family, the brutal coward struck her us
she stood alone among them In her
'fatal defenceless superiority. Was it
the blood of a thousand ancestors
that rushed with tumultuous rebell
ion to her brain? Was It the la,t
agonized throe of a yet unhrokenspirit?
1 dut not conjecture. I only know
that, goaded to madness, in a frenzy of
wild unconsciousness, the unhappy
woman rushed to avenge her wrongs ;
to cancel her misery in the crime for
which she now stands charged before
you.'' . .
t was a well-imagined defence, aud,
I always thought, prompted the recom-
mendation to mercy which accompan
ied the verdict of guilty. In considera
tion of that recommendation, the
sentence of death was commuted into
one of transportation for life ; and the
subject dropped from the record of
human events. These occurrences took
place lour years after the death of Sir
Andrew Lleath. In all the lacerating
pain they brought, it was yet a comfort
to remember that he had not lived to
know them. From that timemy native
laud became more than ever distasteful
to me. My father died, and I sue.
ceeded to the title and estates, an
alien and a foreigner. Love, marriage,
and all the dear domestic ties realized
in the one word " home " were
not for me ; a blight was upon thy life ;
a ghastly memory was attached to all
such associations; and not until thirty
five years of exile had blanched my
hair, and warned me of coming old age,
did I venture back to the cold hearth
I had left a buoyant joyous youth
Here, comparatively happy in the ge
nial society of my books I have lived
for five solitary years, with the ashes of
nearly forty winters to cover the story
of my early life—a story so old as al
most to belong to the records of a for
mer generation ; yet this very night,
my friends, I have learned that until
within a few years ago it had a sequel.
As Sir Edward Ashly pronounced the
last words, he placed before the doctor
and clergyman the papers confided to
the latter by the dying servant. They
were three in number.
The first was a baptismal registry of
Gabriella Heath, daughter of Sir An
drew and Lady Gabriella Heath, with
date and names of witnesses.
The second, a certificate of marriage
between James Wynn and Gabriella
Heath, with date and names of wit
noses
The third, a ticket•of--leave discharge
NUMBER 36
from prison for good conduct, granted
to the convict, Gabby Wynn, and dated
some six years back.
"My God!" exclaimed Dr. Nichol,
"it cannot be possible! That strange,
wizened creature,—that mass of scarred
ugliness and deformity—"
" Was once thy peerless Gabriella
Heath !" said Sir Edward, concluding
the doctor's sentence in the absent
tones of a man whose thoughts are far
away from the subject on which he is
speaking.
" Truly she was, as she herself said, a
deeply guilty sinner," mused Mr. Nu
gent, as he renewed in thought the
death-bed scene he now so fully com
prehended ; " but the mercy of God is
infinite!"
And then silence fell ou the little
party. But that night, for the first time
since its reoccupation, Ashly Hall har
bored guests, for the clergyman and
doctor refused to leave their friend alone
with that strange revelation, while the
dead was yet in the house.
A few days later, when a mourning
train issued from the gates of the Hall,
the lord of the manor attended as chief
mourner, and truly—
"the little port
Had seldom seen a costlier tuueral."
But in this extraordinary deference
to the memory of an old servant, the
people of Ashley only saw a confirma
tion of their opinions respecting tile
"eccentric Sir Edward," who, being the
greatest aristocrat and landed proprietor
in the neighborhood, had given too
deep offence to the county by his unex
pected seclusion and unaccountable
inhospitality to be worthy a renewal of
surprise. Others, whose greater curiosity
took them to the churchyard to inspect
the last testimonial to the object of this
homage, found only a simple marble
slab, erected near the family vault of the
Ashlys, and Inscribed with the simple
letter G.
pgal gotiero.
EX EC UTO N DTI CE.-•-A LI, VERSO NS
knowing themselves Lobe indebted to the
estate 01 Cat harlue Clark, late of the township
of Bart, In the county of Lancaster, Pa.. will
make immediate payment to the undersigned
Executor, and all having any 01111111 H against
the Buld estate wilt present them duly nulben•
heated to
W. CLARK, Executor,
Columbia, pa.
aug ctl titwo 31
ENTATE OF DAVID MIA Y, LATE OF
Manhelml.lorough,deeeased,--Lettern tes
tamentary on said eiitate having been granted
to the undersigned, all persons indebted there
to are requested to make Immediate settle
ment, and those having claims or demands
against the same, will present them without
delay )or settlement to the undersigned, re
siding in said borough.
FANNY MAY,
CATHARINE MAY,
aug 7 Stw 31 Executrices.
T'MTATE OF AHM. RA UFFMAN, LATE
of Manor twp., tlec'tl.—Lett ors of Admin-
istri4tion ou the estate of said deceased haying
been granted to the undersigned, all persons
Indebted to said estate will please make pay
ment forthwith, and all persona having claims
against the SUMO will present them to the un
dersigned, residing in Manor township, for
settlement 11. C. KAUFFMAN,
C. M. KAUFFMAN,
aug 7 atw• 31 Administrators.
FITATE OF ELIZABETH CURRY, LATE
of ,ittistiory township, tlecouicti. ',otters
11..statnentary on said estate h tying been
granted to the undersigned, nil persons in
dotted thereto, are requested to make imme
diate settlement, aud those having claims or
demands against the same, will present them
wit limit delay for settlemet it to the under
signed, residing in said township.
11.ACHAEL LINTON,
nog 21 61.w"33 Executrix.
LSTATE OF HUGH 101 A LEY, LATE OF
Eden t,wnship, deceased.—The under
signed Auditor, appointed to distribute the
balance remaining In the hands of Samuel
Slokom, Esq., Executor, to and among those
legally entitled to tho same, will sit tor that
purpose on MON DAY, SE PTENI BER 30, 1567,
at 2 o'clock P. M., in the Library ROOM of the
Court House, In the City of Lancaster, where
all persons interested In said dist, ibth ion may
attend. ELWOOD Auditor.
se p d .It.w 32
Mary E Conyngham by her 1
next friend, Philip I November Term,
f 1660, No. lad.
John It. Conyngham. J
mo THE DEFENDANT ABOVE NAMED.
1 —You are hereby notified that. Depositions
un behalf of Petitioner will be taken at my
ollice, No. hi North Dua e street, In the City of
Lancaster, on FRIDAY, OCTOBER 4, Mil', at
10 o'clock, A. M. WM. 8., WILE Y,
Lancaster, Sep. 3, 14117, Com Missioner.
sep
LiSTATE OF ANN KLINE (WIDOW)
E/ Late of the borough of Washington, Ma nor
twp., Lancaster County, decid.—rhe under
signed Auditor, appointed to audit, atiJ Wit the
account and distribute the balance remaining
In the hands of Baruherd Mann, (Farmer,) Ad
mhaistrator, to and among those legally enti
tled to the some, will attend for that purpose
on TUESDAY, the 24t0 day of SEPTEMBER,
1007, at 10 o'clock, A. M., in the Library Room
of tile Court House, in the City of Lancaster,
where all persons Interested In said distribu
tion may attend. A. J. SANDERSON,
sep 4 31w Auditor.
I)EIOSTER'S NOTICE.-THE ACCOUNTS
of tile following persons are Bled in the
Register's Office iif Lancaster county for con
firmation and allowance. at an Orphans' Court
to be held in the Court House, In the city of
Lancaster, on the THIRD MONDAY IN SEP
TEMBER (lath), 1867, at 10 o'clock A. M.:
Sarah It. Davis, Executrix of Maria S. Kuhn.
William Diem, Administrator or Luckey Mur-
ray.
Samuel 11. Scott and Elizabeth Mcllalnes, Ex
ecunirs of Alexander Scott.,
Joseph Kirk, (inarillan 01 Alvin Brown.
Hannah Robinson, Achninistratrix of George
Robinson.
David Hartman, Administrator of Tobias 11.
Miller, dee'd, who was Guardian of Anna
Dangler, Sarah Dangler, Barbara Dangler,
Tablas Deugler and Georglanua Dangler.
John S. Franck and Henry S. Franck, Exec.i
irs of Christian Franck.
Thomas Smedley, Administrator of Jonathan
Smedley.
George $. Snyder, Administrator of Mary
15 . 1111arn Della, Administrator of John L. Cur
venter.
1111un Kline , Cluardlan or William hack
ITMU.
Bander.. McCullough, (Juardlan of Sauderti Mc
lenry Housman, Executor or Susan K 111 heffer
\ udrew Zereher, Executor or Trustee or Ben
Peter Oberholtzer, Guardian of Elizabeth Pe
tern (now Hoffman).
Jacob Oberhollxer, Civardlan or all the minor
children of Chi'lotion Oberholtzer,
Mary Ann Deutsch ' AdininistraLrlx with the
will annexed of Sarah I)rolsbach.
'el er bleConowy, lie/Innen of Joiaph Lu Bre
toe,
tilintuel Hems, J r., and Fredereic Hess, Excen
Lure of Marred I less, sr.
John M. Cialeu and Huuh Ad ml o Istra
tors with the will annexed of David (lock ley
Ilarnherd Mann, (fanner) Duardlan of Clutha,
rine liaullThan.
David Weidman. Cluardian of Harriet S. ()rove.
Jacob Musaelnian, Uuardian of Mary S. M
iIN-
Helmnan and Fanny At ueaelmau.
Martin K. Greiner and Peter Brubacher, Ex
ecutorm of Mary Elizabeth Orel ner.
Christian M. dlartiu, Executor of Catharine
Long.
P. Picket and Leonard Picket, Adrninlatratora
of Philip Ritz,
Benjamin W. Hurnlxh , Ailminlatrator of
Jacob Barthel.
Daniel Martin, (Juardlan of minor children of
Jacob Stauffer.
Marks U. Adrninlarator of Adam
Arline.
Carpenter M'Cleery, Guardlan of George
Dan ner.
Abraham D. Ebersole, Guardian of minor
children of Christian B. Ebersole, deceased.
Amon Bruce, Executor of John Roads.
Wm, ii. Paul,Adminirtrator el George Mohler.
Wm. 11. Hershey, Administrator of John
Hershey.
David Barns,Administrator of Jos. Ebersole.
John Runner, Guardian of Win. it. Runner,
Geo. W. Runner, Rebecca E. Runner, Rachel
A. Runner, Z. Taylor Runner, John Runner
and Sarah A. Runner.
John G. Mohler and Solomon Mohler, Admln
Intratore of George Mohler.
George It. liandrietraort, Atlatinlatrator of Mug
thalena Carter.
Samuel Eby, Ciuurdlan of Marla E. Heft. and
John Heft.
George Duchman, Trustee of George W. Engle,
—Trustee under the Will or George Weidler.
George Duchman, Adeninlstrator 01 Elizabeth
DueJamul. _ _
C. L. Hoffman and E. G. Groff, Executors o
Michael Burd.
Jesse Sellers, Administrator of David C. Kellam;
Jacob I3uch, Levi Shirk and Peter Martin, Ad
minlatrators of Emanuel liuch.
Michael Keller, Guardian of Hara . h E. Musser
P. G. Ebermau, Executor of Elizabeth Eber
man
Mary Welt and Evan• Flory, Administrators of
~I'ete H _rWeit.
E. F. oover, Administrator of George Rettew.
Jacob Kemper, Administrator of Martin d.
Heiser.
George S. Mann, Guardian of James R. Wertz
Samuel Hate, H. D. Mimelman and W. U
Bender, Executors of John Hate.
Janice A. Patterson and I). W. Patterson, Ex
eoutors of James Patterson.
James A. Patterson, Guardian of Mary A
Stauffer.
Grabill Bear, Guardian of Madison Johns.
A. s. Witmer, Executor of Jacob ntreblg.
John M. Ensminger, Samuel A. Er smluger,
C. J. Snavely and E. F. Hostetter, Executors
of Samuel Ensmlnger, who was trustee of
Elizabeth Witmayer, under the will of Jacob
Hummer, deceased.
J. G. Hess, Guardian of Ella Felix.
J. G. Hess, Guardian of Theopnilus Felix.
John P. Stamen, Guardian of Mira G. Shuman.
John P. Stamen, Guardian of Mary S. Shuman,
Peter Wonge___,r
DA Administrator do uonla non of
Emanuel Wenger.
VID MILES, Register.
aug 21 4tw 33
R A. 8 Itt I T
cRACUCER, BISCUIT AND CABE BAICER
WIT ZINO BTBSJLT,
Three doors below Lane's Store, Lancaster, Pa
air All the artielesUbr Bale at this oetablishl
meat are baked troth every day,
RATES OF ADVERTIMONO.
Bit Simms Anvitwrisimarni, Ea a ,year M
_ ..
square of ten lines; $0 per year Or eac h
di - Lionel Square.
REAL IIIerATz , PNESONALPEOPIIMTS,and
.smar. ADVERTISING, 10 cents a line for the
first, and 5 cents for each subsequent inser
tion.
firactrAz Van= inserted in Local Column,
15 cents per line.
SPECIAL Namara preceding marriages axld
deaths, 10 cents per line for first insertion,
and 5 cents for every subsequent insertion.;
Busritsza CARDS, of ten lines or less,
one 10
Business Cards, nye littericTiTerui, one
LEG y A ar N
D OTH a E ionose—
Executors' ..otices .. ........
Administrators' not ices
: 460
Assignees' notices, 2.50
Auditors' notices 2.00
Other "Notices,' ten lines, or less,
three times
gate golttertionuentig.
SIGNIFICANT
't ho new system of Advertising adopted by
Geo. P. Rowell S: Co., Advertising Agents, No.
40 Park Row, New York, Is attracting a good
deal of attention
The following extract from a speech deliv
ered before the N. Y. titate Editorial Conven
tion, (lately hold( a at Penn Tan,) by a promi
nent Advertising Agent of N. Y. City, goes to
show that he at least acknowledges its advan
tages.
From Janmcstou•n, V, Y. Journal of Aug. ?.ml,
Edited by C. E. 13isuor, Chair/nano./ CtMllniCtee
ou ADVICILTISISO AGKSCIII.S.
"Mr. Pettlugill spoke in opposition to that
plan front the publisher's stand point alone.
He showed the publishers that by this system
of contracting they were giving lower rates
than they gave their owu home customers or
others equally as prompt and good customers;
that they were selling one portion of their
paper to be used to compote with and under•
hid the other columns; that the owner of the
space thus sold could coins right in and beat
the publisher's prices and take his business
away from him; that 11 the publishers, fully
understanding this, still wished to continuo
so irregular and uu business-like a system, ho
(Pettingill S Co.) should of course cease try
ing to get advertising for the papers at their
regular rates, and go into the other system of
contracting—which ho could stand, if tho
printers could."
The anxiety on the account of nownpapars is
uncalled for. :flier° Is not ono In twenty
which would not prefer to receive all their for
eign patronage on this plan, when it is fully
understood. 1: is too generally recognized as
thi rou4h ly beneficial to all parties concerned
to be Injured In the least by ally thing which
way be said against it by Interested parties.
Advertisers should send for a circular giving
ull explanattuus
Do LLocu I NsTrriuTE, A FIRST CLASS
1. Boardlog School for Hopi, ut Ylttnllell,
Marcr. 'rem of 'A/ weeks bogltur Oct. i, 1867.
For particulars lohlrerim
REV. W. C. RICHARDS, Prlnclpul.
llneu you 4eoll lite "PENN LETTER !WOK,'
for copy lug let term tint bout the use of either
press U, critter? It BILVCS time, labor, told the
tcrittace of n copying press. For sale by all
first clams statitinerm, amt la the talkie of tho
••I'enn Manufacturing \Yorks," 7a.: Chestnut
Phliatlelphia. Pa.
A few more good Agents Wanted fur General
L. C. Baker's 11 , THE SECRET
?SERVICE." Increased commlsslon
and greater Inducemenfs offered. Address,
P. UARREI'T CU., Box 1:I7, Ph Iladelphla,Pa.
ted
Nix Now LL
-6000 :Tragirl I
1. ? k o l;; I o l
all nay great. profits. Send Lie. and gel SO pages
11l Hl sample gratis.l.4ents lilleo Mad° .5.100,.
linlrrnlin Brown. Lowell. 'Muss
A Tre?thie on 1)(to11'oemn, l'on
-811111141o) and Cancer. caux,,n nud
1111,1111 S Immediate relief and speedy cure,
mow fre(l, Send particularm to STILWELL,
10(4uut II lit I, churl, \Vlllluutxbu rg, L.. 1.
MAIDAM FOY'S
cORsET si:llcr SUPPORTER
Combln In one garment a emwratr FITTING
CORSET, 11.1,1 the most desirable Skirt Sup
porter ever offered thu public. It places the
Weight of the skirts alum the /Moulders in
stead or the hips; IL Improves the form with
out tight tatting; gives ease and elegance; Is
approved und recommended by physicians.—
Muutinu:Lured by I.), 11. SAUNDERS .51 CU.,
MI=MMEI;T!
nAI NTS FOR FA ItAI ERN AND OTHERS.
—THE URA' , l'oN MINERAL PAINT CO.,
are 1101 V manulacturlm: the Best, Cheapest and
anus! Durable Paint lu use; two Coats, well put
on, mixed with pure Linseed Oil, will last 10 or
1i years; It Is or a Bunt brown or beautiful
chocolate color, and call be changed to green,
lead, stone, olive, drab or cream, to Sllt, the
lust e of the consumer. It Is valuable for
'louses, Barns, Fences, Agricultural Imple
ments, Carriage and .Car-anakers, Palls and
W ouden-ware,t:an cuss, Metal At Shingle Roofs,
(It being Fire and Witt erProol). Bridges, Burial
Cases, Canal Boats, Ships and Ships' Bottoms,
Floor Oil Cloths, (one Manufacturer having
used 5,000 bbls. the past year,) and as a paint for
any purpose Is unsurpassed for body, durabili
ty, elast ionl adhesiveness. Price 11l per
bbl., of :tee lbs., which will supply a farmer tor
years to corny. Warranted 111 all cases 80 above.
Sena{ for a circulsr, which gives full particulars.
None gee lithe Unless branded In a trade mark
(Iritflon Paint. Address DANIEL
BI DWELL, Proprietor, I{si Pearl sL. New York
YOU'RE IVANTED: LOOK HERE!
Agents, both male and female, wanted every
where to sell the PATENT IMPROVED INK Mag
i:tavola, (by which Iron! one to two pages can
be written without replenishing with 111 k),
and our Fancy and Dry Gouda, etc. Ca❑ clear
from 13 to flu a day. No capital required.
Price le amts, with an advertisement descri
bing an article for sale In our Dollar Fur.
chasing; Agency. CIRCULARS SENT FREE.
EASTHAN 4, KENDALL,
65 Hanover St., Boston, Maas.
DEAFNESS CURED. The Organic Vibra
tor fits Into the ear, Is not perceptible, and
enables dear persons to hear distinctly at,
church and at public assembllem. Send partio
ulars to Dr. HTI LWELL, N 0.45 South Uth at.,
Williamsburg, N. Y.
WE ARE COMING,
And will present to any person sending us a
club In our Great One Brice Sale, of Dry and
Fancy Goods, &c., a Silk Dress Pattern, Pleco
of sheeting, Watch, Sc., free of cost. Catalogue
of goods, and saint - do, sent to any address free.
Address .1. H. HAWEM a CO., H Hanover St.,
Boston, Mass. P. 0, Box 51H.
Thirteen Yenrii Ago
Dr. Louis of Providence, R. 1. discovered Rem
edies, with which he has cured hundreds of
cases of Paralysis, Fits, and all forms of Ner
vous Diseases. send two stamps for pamphlet,
and certllicate.
A FFLICTED RESTORED! IGNORANCE
/I EXPOSED! FALLACIES UNMASKED!
Highly important to both sexes, married or
L
mingle, In health or disease. Dr. ARMONT'S
Paris, Loudon and New York Medical Advisor
and Marriage Guide, Slth edition, 400 pages,
nearly tigi Anal otnlcal Illustrations, upon
Mental and Nervous Debility, Urinary Depos
its and Impotency, affections of the Bladder,
Kidneys,Genllo-Urinary Organs, and their
consequences, and anatomy of both sexes I
European hospital practice—the. Author's mo
ral, legitimate and effectual method of pre
venting too rapid lucre so of famlly,—hls une
qualed Pads and London treatment, dtc.
Mailed true for 51.50, closely sealed.
All who would avoid the barborons treat
ment with Met cury, Copabla, Injections, Caut
erizations, Quack mpeclllcs, Antidotes and In
struments, should own this valuable work or
consult Lhu Doctor oersonally, or by letter, No.
Broadway, N. Y., front 10 A. M. to 5 P. M.
Post Wilco Box All, N. Y., Is all the address re•
qui red. Consullalion, Adtrfc, , tV Medicine Si. ILI
all cases In advance.
Wu concur wILh other papeDi In recom
mending Dr. LAMONT and his work."—
Courier des Eta., Unis, ()crown die Reform, D -
patch, &was Z,eilunii, Alias , Medical Review, &c.
AwATCII FRE:IL—A Sliver P. Watch Giv
en Gratis to the purclnuier of Every 100 of
Kennedy's Mammoth Prize titationery Packa
ges, the Largest In the world. (Ae an Induce
ment to have them Introduced,) agents sell the
packages as fast as they can reach them out.
10 Dollars per day can be made sure. Wo havo
agents that cell ou an average 1000 per week.
Price per hundred, 15 Dollars. Retail at 'Li eta.
And a watch In the bargain that will retail for
sls more. For fall particulars of Prize Package
and other saleable goods address lt. MUNROE
KENNEDY, Cor. sth and Wood tit., Plthiburg,
Penn.
SCHOOLS
Principals of Amnion'lex, demluaries, &c.,
should consult no in regard to nava:Using.
No charge for Into 'nation. OF.O. P. ROWELL
& CO., Advertising Agents, N. Y.
E=!
It you wl4ll to Advertise you Nhould commit
GEO. P. NOWELL et CO., 40 Park ltow, N. Y.
uourance Ormpautti).
C OLUMBIA INAUKAII cr. ,COMPANY
CAPITAL 41W A &SfETS, 8632,210 49
This Company continues to Insrire
lugs, Merchandise, and other property, against
loss and damage by ,fire, on the 11:1UtUlli plan,
either for
SIXTH a cash
A premium o NNUAL RE r p remium note.
Whole amount 1n5ured,...88X1,293.51
Loan INCOME. A.Nli ain't expiI TAL, red in '56... 212,330. 9,091,U59.61
CAPOO
Am't of premium notes,
Jau. let, 1863 8126,000.60
Lees premium notes ex
pired iu 1868
Ain't ol premium notes
received Inl 86J
Balance of premiums,
Jan. let, 186,
Cash recelpte, less coin
missions - in 1845,
EMEB73
Loans and expennOe paid
in 18a5 , e 37,967,88
Balance or Capital and
Assets, Jan, 1, UM 1682,210.49
e570,19/4,3
A. S. GREEN, President,
UE013.210 YOUNG, Jr., Secretary.
Mme= S. 8111JMA RC N,Treastlier.
DINORS:
Robert Crane, ,William Patton,
kt. T. }Von, John W. Steuart
John Penticton, Geo. Tow_ g, Jr.
H. G. ' Nicholas Mollonald,
Sarn , l F. Eborlein, Michael B. Shuman,
Amos S. Green,
mend S B.ar 'S
in laymaker,
Edg.
THEO. W. HERR, Agent,
North ko stroat, CHASTER urt House,
mar WIWI L.WFIANNA.
18,073.53 410,017.21
$570,198.81