,s&* gramm* gnMligfwcv,
Published st ”
. \ iMi/i-
U. G. SMJfTM & GO.
, A. J. STEINMAH
H. G. Smith
• TERMS—Two. HoUajs per annum, payable
In all cases In advance.
TUB LANCASTER DAILT INTELLIGENCES IB
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
ssper Annum In advance.
COBWEB 07 CENTRE
OFFICE—BOI
SQUARE.
fadnj.
The Window Just Over the Street.
BY ALICB CARY.
I fill in my sorrow a-weary, alone;
I have nothing sweet to hope or remember,
For the Spring o' the’ year and of life has
down;
’Tls the wildest night o’ the wild December,
And darn in my spirit and dark in my chamber
I sit and list to tbe steps In the street,
Going and coming, and coming and going,
And tne winds at my shutter they blow and
beat;
'Tls tbe middle of night and the clouds are
Knowing;
And the winds are bitterly heatingand blowing
1 list to the stc ps as they come and go.
: adU list to the winds that are beating aha
blowing
And my heai i sinliß down so low, so low ;
bo step is -tayeo from me by the snowing,
N'orsUyoJ by the wind so O.tterly blowing.
I think of the ships that are out at sea,
Oj th« wheels 111 the '-old, blqgk waters turn'
log;
Not on* of the ships bea'eMi news to me,
And rav head ish'ck, und my hearllsyearn'
iu \ ‘
As I think or the wheels lu tiie black waters
turning.
Of tho mother I think, by her sick baby’s bed,
Away In tier eabin *•<> Jonenome and dreary.
And little nmJ low us the flax-breaker'- shed ;
t)i her patience so sweet, and her ailenoe so
. weary,
With cries of tie - hungry wolf hid In the prairie,
I think of all things in the world that are sad;
'of children In homesick and comfortless
places;
Of prisons, oi dungeons, of men that are land;
Gt wicked, unwomamy light In their faces
Of women that fortune has wronged with dls
• graces.
1 think of a dear little sun-lighted head,
That came where no hand of us all could
deliver;
And ct'a/.ed with the crudest, pain went to bed
Wnere mo sheets w-ro the foam-fretted
waves oi tlie river;
Poor duaitog! may Gcil lu his mercy forgive her
Tho footsteps grow fulntnnd more faint In the
snow;
I put. b *ctt the curium iu very despairing;
The luasU ereuk and yi\ uu as th’ windß come
and go;
And i iu* light lu the light house nil weirdly
Is Haring ;
Hut wbßt glory Is Mils, in I he giooui of despalr-
I see at. the window just over r he si i pet,
A maid in it.e lamp-light her love-letter
reading.
Her i i d inoulu is *in t liny, her news W so aweef;
And the Heart, in my Oohiiiii is cured of lls
bleeding,
As I look on ih • ni'jfdon r love-let t< r rending
She iius iiuisheji the intlm', and Joining* It,
UlhhfS,
A nil hides It—a secret, to sacred to know ;
And now in the heftrt!i-ll;.'ht she softly un
. dresses;
A vision iifgi ace in i lie r...seale glow,
1 see her unbinding the braids oi her tresses.
And now us nhe stoops to tl.e i ibbon that fas
tens
Her slipper, Ll ey tumble o'er shoulder and
face;
And now, us she putteis iu bc.ro foot, she has
tens
To gat her t hem up in a fi lift of lace ;
And now she is goon, hut In fancy I trace.
Til 1 ' 1 aven dered linen npdruwu, the round arm
Half sunk in toe couhterpauc’s broldered
ruses,
Reveal ng me tiquislie on Hi no of form;
A willowy wilder of grace that reposes
Heneath liiu white couutorpune, fleecy with
roses.
J see the S’tuili linml lying over the heart,
Where the p-isvloualo dro 'ins are so awuet In
' iheirtully;
The fair li tt le lingers they t remble and part.
Aspirl to tho warm wsves the. leavi-s of tho
my.
And thk-v play with he/ han-1 like the wa es
with ihe Illy.*
In while tl.-ecy II wers, file queen o' the (low
ers !
her s I' e world with Its had, bitter
WcaUici
Wile sip- opens hi r :u ins—ah, her world is
not mu --!
And now sou has closed them and clasped
th- m tcgi:t.li»*r -
What to her I-. onr rrnrlfj, wit h Its clouds ahd
rough went inu
Hark ! midmgh:! Hut v/iods liud the snows
hlu\v an I lien t ;
I !.iop d-iwii the eu' irtln au-1 say to my sor
row,
j hunk God fir tin - window just over Mi astro* t;
Tn ink G--d I hue is u'ways a whence to
borrow
When d ukne-iH is darkest, uml Sorrow,most
f-'orrow.
Uliscdlnnmtss.
“ Bedlam let loose.! Pandemonium
in rebellion ! Cluiua turned inside out*,
what is the reason a man cannot heal
lowed to sleep in the morning without
this everlasting racket raised above his
ears? Children crying—doors slam
miug—l will know the reason of all
this uproar!”
Mr. Luke Darcy shut the door of his
bed-room with considerable emphasis,
and went straight to the breakfast par
lor.
All was bright ami quiet and pleasant
there ; the coal snapping aud sparkling
in the gran*, the china and silver neat
ly arranged on the spotless damask
cloth, and the green parrot drowsily
winked his yellow eyes in the sunny
glow of the'eastern window—Bedlam
plainly wasu’t located just there, and
i\lr. Darcy went stunningly up stairs to
the nursery.
Ah ! the Held of battle was reached at
last. Mrs. Durey sat in her little low
chair before tlie lire, trying toquietthe
screams of an eight months old baby
scion of the house of Darcy, while an
other—a rosy boy of live years—lay on
his back, prone on the floor, kicking aud
crying in an ungovernable fit of child
ish passion.
“Mrs. Dar—cy! 1 ’ enuuciated Luke,
with a slow and ominous precision,
“may I enquire what all this means?
Are you aware tlmt it is fifteen minutes
past nine o’clock ? Do you know that
breakfast is waiting?”
“I kuow, Luke—l know,” said poor
perplexed Mrs. Darcy, striving vainlyi
to lift the rebellious urchin up by ODe
arm, “Come, Freddy, you are goiDg to
be good now, mamma is sure, and get
up and be washed.”
“No—o—o!” roared Master Freddy,
performing a brisk tattoo on the carpet
with his heels, and clawing the air fu
riously.
Like an avenging vulture, Mr. Darcy
pounced'abrupliv down on his son and
heir, carried him promptly to the closet,
aud turned the key upon his screams.
“ Now, sir, you can cry it out at your
leisure. Kvolyn, nurse is waiting for
the baby. Wp’il godown to breakfast.”
“But, Luke,” hesitated Mrs. Darcyq
“you won’t leave Freddy there?”
“ Won’t, I’d like to kuow why not?
It’s temper, aud nothing else, that is at
the bottom of all of these demonstra
tions, ami I'll conquer that temper or
I'll kuow the reason why. It ought to
have beeu checked long ago, but you
are so ridiculously’ imlulgeut. There is
noliiing I have so little tolerance for as
a bad temper—nothiug that ought to be
so promptly anil severely dealt with.”
“ But if he’ll say he’s sorry Luke?”
Mr. Darcy rapped sharply’ at the
panels of the door:
“ Are you sorry for your naughtiness,
young mini ? ”
A fresh outburst of screams aud a re
newal of the tattoo was the answer.
“ I am sure he is sorry, Luke,” plead
ed the all extenuating mother, but Mr.
Darcy shook his head.
“ Entire submission is the only thing
I will listen to,” he said shortly. “ I
tell you, Evelyn, I am determined to
uproot this temptr.” *
Evelyn, with a dewy moisture shad
owing her eyelashes, aud a dull ache at
her heart, followed her liege lord down
to the breakfast table, with as little ap
petite for tbe coffee, toast and eggs as
might he.
A tall, blue eyed young lady, with a
profusion of bright chestnut hair, and
cheeks like rose velvet, was already at
the table wheu they descended, byname
Clara Pruyn, by iiueage Mrs. Darcy’s
sister. She opened her eyes rather wide
as the two entered.
“ Good gracious, F.vy, what’s the
matter?”
“Nothing,” answered Luke, tartly.
“ Mrs. Darcy, you appear to forget that
I have eaten no breakfast.”
“Something is the matter, though.”
said Clara, shrewdly. “What is it
Evelyn? Has Luke had one of his tant
rums ?”
Luke set down his coffee cup with a
sharp “click.”
“You use very peculiar expressions,
Miss Pruyn.”
“ Very true oues,” said Clare, saucily.
Evelyn smiled In spite of herself.
“ It’s only Freddy, who feels a little
cross, and ”
“A little cross!” interrupted the in
dignant husband. “ I tell you, Evelyn,
it’s quite time that temper was checked.
Oh, that parrot! what an intolerable
screeching he keeps up! Mary take
that bird into tbe kitchen, or I shall be
-tempted to wring its neck. Strange
that a man can’t have a little peace
once in a while! What does ail the
eggs, Evelyn? I thought I had asked
you to see that they were boiled fit for
a Christian to eat.
Mr. Darcy gave hiß egg, shell and all,
a vindictive throw upon the grate*
®}C Lancaster Sntdluu'iuTr.
VOLUME 70
Evelyn’s brown eyes sparkled danger
ously as she observed the manoeuvre,
but she made l no remark.
“And the plates are as cold as a stone,
when I’ve implored again and again,
that they might be warmed. Well, I
shall eat no breakfast this morning.”
“ Whom will you punißh most?” de
manded Miss Clara. “Evelyn, give
me another cup of coffee; its perfectly
delightful.”
Luke pushed his chair back with a
vpngance, and took up his stand with
his back to the fire, both hands under
his coat tails.
“ Please air,” said the servant, depre
catingly advancing, “ the gas bill—the'
man says would you settle it while —”
“ No” roared Luke tempestuously.
“Tell the man to go about his busi
ness ; I’ll have no small bills this morn
ing, and I won’t be so persecuted !”
Mary retreated precipitately. Clara
raised her long brown eyelashes.
“ Do you know, Luke,” sbe said de
murely, “I think you would feel a
great deal better if you would do just
as Freddy does—lie flat down on the
floor and kick your heels against the
carpet for awbile. It’s an excellent es
! cape'valve when your choler gets the
better of you.”
Luke gave his mischievous sister-in
law, a glance that ought certainly to
have annihilated her, and walked out
of the room, closing the door behind
him with a bang that would bear no
interpretation. Then Clara came round
to her sister and buried her pink face
in Evelyn’s neck.
“Don’tscold me, Evy, please —I know
I’ve been very naughty to tease Luke
ao! ”
“ You have spoken nothing but tbe
truth,” said Evelyn, quietly, with her
coral lips compressed, and a scarlet spot
burning on either cheek. “Clara, I
sometimes wonder how I can endure
the daily cross of my hualmnd’s tem
per.”
“ Temper! ” said Clara, with a toss of
her chestnut brown hair. “And the ;
'poor dear fellow hasn't the least idea ;
how disagreeable he makes himself.”
“Only this morning,” said Evelyn,
“ he puuished Freddy with unrelenting
severity for a lit of ill-humor which he
himself has duplicated within the last
half hour. I am not a moralist, but it
strikes me that the fault is rather more
to be censured in a full grown reason
ing man than in a child.”
“Evelyn, said Clara gravely, “do
you suppose he is beyond the power of
cure?”
“Ihopenot; but whatcan Ido? fthut
him up as he shut little Freddy ?”
Evelyn’s merry, irresistible laugh was
checked by the arch, peculiar expres
sion in Clara's blue eyes.
“The remedy needs to be something
short and sharp,” said Clara, “and the
dark closet system certainly combines
both requisites. Tears and hysterics
were played out long ago in matrimo
nial skirmishes, you kuow, Evy.
“Nonsense!” laughed Mrs. Darcy,
rjsing from tbe breakfast table in obe
dience to her husband’s peremptory
summons from abovestairs, while Clara
shrugged her shoulders and went to
look for her work-basket.
Luke was standing in front of his
bureau drawer, flinging shirts, collars,
cravats and stockings recklessly, upon
the bed-room floor.
“I’d like to kuow where my silk
handkerchiefs are, Mrs. Darcy!” he
fumed, “such a state as my bureau is
in is enough to drive a man crazy !”
“ rt’s enough to drive a woman crazy,
T think!” said Evelyn, hopelessly,
stooping to pick up a few of the scat
tered articles.
“ You were at the bureau last, Luke.
It is your own fault!”
“My fault —of course it’s my fault!”
snaried Luke, giving Mrs. Darcy’s
poodle a kick tbatsent it howling to its
mistress. “Anything but a woman’s
retorting, recriminating tougue. Mrs.
Darcy, I wont endureitauy longer!”
“ Neither will I!” said Evelyn, reso
lutely advancing, as her husbaud
plunged into tbe closet for his business
coat, and promptly shutting and lock
iug the door. “ I think I’ve endured it
long enough—and here is an end of it!”
“ Mrs. Darcy ! open the door!” said
Luke, scarcely able to credit tho evi
dence of his own senses.
“ I shall do no such thing,” said Mrs.
Darcy, composedly beginning to rear
range shirts,Btockingandflaunel wrap
pers iu their appropriate receptacles.
“Mrs. Dar—oy!” roared Luke, at a
fever heat oflrapotent rage, “what on
earth do you meau?”
“ I mean to keep you iu that clothes
press, Mr. Darcy, until you have made
up your mind to come out in a more
amiable frame of mind. If the system
succeeds with Freddy, it certainly
ought to with you ; and I am sure your
temper is much more intolerable than
his.”
There was a dead silence of full six
ty seconds in the closet, then a sudden
burst of vocal wrath.
“Mrs. Darcy, open the door tiffs in
stant, madam !”
But Evelyn went on humming a
saucy little opera air, and arranging her
clothes.
“ Do you hear me?”
“ Yes—l hearyou.”
“Will you obey me?”
“ Not until you have solemnly prom
ised me to put some sort of control od
that temper of yours; not until you
pledge yourself hereafter to treat your
wife as a lady should be treated ; not as
a menial.”
“ I won’t!”
“ No? Then in that case I hope you
don’t find the atmosphere at all oppres
sive there, as I think it probable you
will remain there some time!”
Another sixty-seconds of dead silence,
then asudden rain of heels and hands
against the relentless wooden panels.
“ Let me out, I say, Mrs. Darcy ! mad
am, how dare you perpetrate this mon
strous piece of audacity ?”
“ My dear Luke, how strongly you
do remind me of Freddy ! You see there
is nothing I have so little tolerance for
as a bad temper. It ought to have been
checked long ago, only you know I’m
so ridiculously indulgent.”
Mr. Darcy winced a little at the fa
miliar sound of bis own words.
Tap-tap-tap came softly to the door.
Mrs. Darcy composodly opened it aud
saw her husband’s little office boy.
“ Please, mam, there’s some gentle
men at the office in a great hurry to see
Mr. Darcy. It’s about the Applegate
will case! ”
Mrs. Darcy hesitated au instant; there
was a triumphant rustle in the closet,
aud her determination was taken.
“ Tell the gentleman that your master
has a bad he idacho, aud won’t be down
town this morning.”
Luke gnashed his teeth audibly, as
soon as the closing of the door admon
ished him that be might_jlo so with
safety.
“Mrs. Darcy, do you presume to in
terfere with the transaction of business
that is vitally important, ma’am, vitally
important ? ”
Mrs. Darcy nonchalantly took up the
little opera air where she had left it,
letting the soft Italian words ripple
musically off’her tongue.
“ Evelyn, dear! ”
“ What is it, Luke?” she asked mildly.
“Please let me out. My dear, this
may be a joke to you, but—”
“ I assure you, Luke, it’s nothing of
the kind; it’s the soberest of serious
matters to me. It is a question as to
whether my future life shall be misera
ble or happy.”
There was a third interval of silence.
“Evelyn,” said Luke, presently, in a
subdued voice, “will you open the
door?”
“ On one condition only.”
“ And what m that?”
" Ah! ah?” thought the little lieuten
ant general, “he’s beginning to enter
tain terms of capitulation, is be? On
conditions,” she added aloud, “that
you will break yourself of the habit of
speaking crossly and sharply to me. and
on all occasions keep your temper.”
“My temper, indeed!” sputtered
Luke.
“Just your temper.” returned lffg
wife, serenely. “Will you promise?”
“Never, madam.”
Mrs. Darcy quietly took up a pair of
hose that required mending, and pre
pared to leave the apartment. As the
door creaked on Its hinges, however, a
voice came shrilly through the opposite
keyhole.
“Mrs. Darcy, Evelyn! w'ife! wife!”
“Yes.”
“You are not going down stairs to
leave me in this place?”
“I am.”
“Well, look here —I promise.”.
“All and everything that I require ?”
“Yes, all and everything that you re
quire—confound It all!”
Wisely deaf to themuttered sequel?
Mrs. Darcy opened the door, and Luke
stalked sullenly out, looking right over
the top of her shiniDg brown hair.
Suddenly a little detaining hand was
laid on his coat sleeve.
“Luke, dear?”
“Well?”
“ Won't you give me a kiss?”
And Mrs. Darcy burst out crying on
her husband’s shoulder.
“Well!” ejaculated the puzzled Luke,
“ if you aren't the greatest enigma go
ing. A kiss? Yes, a half dozen of'em
if you want, you kind-hearted little
turnkey. Do not cry,pet, I'm not angry
with you, although I suppose I ought
to be.”
“And may I let Freddy out?”
“Yes, on the same terms that his
papa was released. Evelyn, was I very
intolerable ?”
“If you hand’t been, Luke, I never
should have ventured on such a violent
remedy.”
“Did I make you very unhappy?”
“ Very.”
And the gush of warm sparkling
tears supplied a dictionary full of words.
Luke Darcy buitoned up his overcoat,
put on his hat, shouldered his umbrella,
and went to the Applegate will case,
musing as he went upon the Dew state
of affairs that had presented itself for
Ins consideration.
“ By Jove,” he ejaculated, “ that lit
tle wife of mine is a bold woman and a
plucky one!”
And thus he burst out laughing on the
steps.
It is morethan probable that he left
his stock of bad temper in the law
buildings that day, for Evelyn andC.ara
never saw any more of it; and Freddy
is daily getting the best of the peppery
element in his infantile disposition.
Men, after all, are but children of a
larger growth j-aud so Mrs. Evelyn
Darcy had reasoned.
A Ghost Story
U\ HAKIUIiT i’KESCOTT nI’OKFOJII'.
“You may disbelieve in ghosts to
your heart’s couteut,” said the doctor,
as we all sat round the blaziug fire one
night just before separating for bed;
“you’ve never seen one. For my part,
I’ve been more fortunate —and I believe
in them.
“When I was a lecturer in the Ana
tomical course of the School, years ago,
I was in the habit of frequently giving
my lectures at the dissecting-table with
the class around me there.
“At the same time I was in full prac
tice, aud I had one case in particular
that was as enthralling to meas a novel
is to you, Mias Jeasica. This case, of
which I just spoke, had baffled the skill
of every physician of note in the coun
try. I was the last physician employed
upon it; and being in love with the
young lady, I struggled against its pro
gress like a madman. There were re
corded in all our medical chronicles but
four cases of this type; —two had oc
curred nearly a hundred years ago, and
had been but poorly diagnosed then ;
the third was a twin sister of my pa-
had not died of itsimply be
causei n an early stageofthediseasesbe
had been drowned at sea with her two
brothers on her way to procure foreign
advice. I saw that there was no help in
science or sympathy for my patient;
and as day by day passed and she stead
ily declined, and my love did nothing
but increase for her unfailing sweetness
and her beauty, that blazed only brighter
with the disease, it used to seem to me
as if my braiD would burst with despair
and desire and suspense. I will not at
tempt to tell you how beautiful she was,
even in her illness and incipient decay
her features, moulded likesome antique'
statues, were alabastrine, the flame of
her spirit burned behind them till they
were fairly luminous; her great dark
eyes glowed—with the hidden fever
perhaps—but still like stars, and a faint
rosy tlamewentand cameon her cheeks,
that many a time I longed to deepen
with my lips, but never dared —for had
I told her of my passion I should have
been of little good as a physician ; and,
in fact, I was of little good. Let me do
my best and try my utmost, study and
ponder, search ftud compare, all my
efforts were but alleviations; the disease,
Liko an underground fire whose issues
have been closed at the surface, burned
steadily on beneath. She saw the ab
sorption in which she held me; but
she knew that i was devoted to my
studies,and if she recognized it to be any
thing but professional zeal, she gave me
no sign. But my heart beat wildly fur
one of those smiles of hers that she shed
around so carelessly in moments freed
from paroxysms of her pain, for one of
those smiles that should be given to me
and me only. I stole one day a long
tress of her yellow hair while she was
sleeping; I betrayed my profession in
doing it perhaps, but it was a bitter
solace to me, and I have it yet. There
was nothing earthly in this passion of
mine; how could tnere be when it was
for one whose body was passing away
trom earth ? I had a certain sort of bliss
ouly in seeing her from day to day, in
the freedom and the-friendship of our
relation—of taking in her hand, whose
touch almost made my heart leap into
my throat—of receiving her confidences
—of being looked for and expected by
her. Sometimes when the man and
lover overcame the student of science,
and I saw that even this must end be
fore long, I cursed the day I was born,
and grovelled on the floor in darkness
Of what use was my profession to me, all
my skill, my nerve, my courage, my
steady hand, my judgement, if in my
one need they availed me nothing, ab
solutely nothing ! They were my bane
indeed, —for had I never possessed them
I should never have beeu consulted in
relation to this case—l should never
have been tortured to agony by know
ing that I could save any rat-catcher’s
daughter from all the fevers that infest
the slums, while before the life of my
soul as it departed I could only veil my
face. You must not thiuk me a posi
tive monster wheu I assure you that it
would have been some satisfaction to
me after things came to the worst, could
I but have had liberty to make an un
fettered investigation into the anatomy
of the disease, which I could and would
have done; —we arestrauge compounds
—at any rate a physician is.
“One day I was summoned away by
a message which I could not disobey;
my father was ill where I alone could
be of service to him. I weut to E!i3e,
aud gave my written orders for her
treatment during the next three days.
I thought I might venture to leave her
for that length of time, since the changes
of her disease were so slow in their pro
gress, —and at any rate I must. ‘lf
anything strange or new occurs, Elise,
desert my directions at once,’ I said,
‘and Bend for Dr. Haussman, —but do
not lose your heart to him.' I said
that lightly, for Dr. Haussman, though
almost unrivalled in his art, was a
bachelor laughing-stock among young
women.
“‘lf I did,’ said Elise, ‘he should
never know it.'
“‘Why not?' I asked, with some
thing very like hope, a ghost of hope
risingin my heart. ‘lf a man loves you
and is loved by you, has he not a right
to know it.”
“‘Ah, do you think I am such a
wretch as that?’ sighed Elise. ‘To en
courge, to deepen so hopeless a love as
one for me must be? If I could—to fire
a heart which must break ? No, no, I
should stifle it even with my ashes,’
“‘You are an angel,’ I said, and I
took her hand and kissed it reveren
tially rather than passionately. But I
went out with my blood dancing for joy
in my veins ; I had learned all I wanted
to know—and even if she died, as die
she must, all through my wretohed stay
below, I should know that Elise would
be awaiting me, mine and mine only in
the life beyond.
“ I was detained by my father’s ill
ness the three days, as I expected; I
brought him back to life, left him in
good hands, and started on my return.
Overtaken by the great storm, and our
coach broken down, and horses that
could make headway being hard to find,
I was terribly delayed. I did not arrive
at the end of my journey till the eve
ning of the fifth day, and on. the very
hour when my class, as I knew, were
awaiting me around the dissecting-table
with its subject already procured. I
should have kept them waiting for a
brief period while I paused beside Elise
one moment to learn that she was yet
no worse, had not a couple of them way
laid me aa I set my foot upon the
ground, and made anything else but
accompanying them to my tardy lec
ture impossible, 1 Never mind,’ I said
to myself, ‘ a few minutes more or less
will be of small matter. X will make
theffecture a precious short one.’ I did
make it a precious short one, short
enough and doubly preciouß. I linger
ed a moment examining my instru
ments at the lower part of the hall, then
r T ' ■ r
LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING JANUARY 20 F 69
• came rapidly up, looking at the table
where the subject lay and over which
1 1 thesheethungin heavy waxen folds like
j the mortuary-cloth of some Egyptian
I princess. An indefinable terror seized
!meas I approached; I had no idea why
1 found a shudder creeping over me
from head to foot, and my blood run
ning cold; my heart became a lump of
lead; I could hear it tolling like a fu
neral bell; my hands were ice Itself.
My first essay with the scalpel, my first
incision upon a corpse, had cost me less
sick and trembling horror. My hair
would perhaps have bristled up on end
had it not been wet with the cold dew
that started out at my every pore; and
if my face had been turned to wards
the students who were following behind
me, I have no doubt they would have
taken me for the subject myself. As I
drew nearer to the table, my assistant
pulled back the cloth, and suddenly I
caught bis hand just as the face only of
I the dead person lay bare. If I bad
I ben shaking flesh and blood be
j fore, for a moment now I was
! marble. This face —this subject that
| bad been procured,—this dead woman
{lying under the cloth —these long curves
{ and outlines more beautifully moulded
i than sculpture as they stretched beneath
j thesheet —that clay-cold forehead with J
i all the yellow hair sweeping back from
it and falling to the floor—what was it
all but Elise? Audi had not knowu
she was dead! And with that it over
came me, like a blust of Are fusing
every other thought iu that one, that
my last words with her bad perhaps
excited the excess of fever that must
; have swept her away, that it was I who
; had killed her indeed,—and then came
I the bitter sense that she had died and
; been buried yet I bad not been beside
her, and now exposed to the vulgar gaze
i of studeotandjanitors, shelay awaiting
the knife. It fell from my hand.
“ 1 1 hope there is no mistake, sir,’
; said the assistant, in a low tone, having
■ noted my agitation and the.face. ‘1
1 found the body already procured when
I I came in, and presumed you had given
1 tbe janitor your orders, as usual.’ But
I I could not open my heart before this
| gaping throng. Mechanically I replaced
j the face cloth, wkh a gesture that made
I my assistant understand it was not to
J be disturbed, aud I sank into a seat, my
j head in my hands. None of them had
j ever seen that face, none but the
j assistant and I; and whether they
thought I was ill, or was simply collect
ing my scattered thoughts, the students
awaited me a while in respectful silence,
then commenced calling them
selves; audit must have been nearly
an hour that I sat there without one
thought in my mind, with nothing but
asensation of blank misery that seemed
to sponge ou.t all the world from
existence. My brain was fairly
drowned in unshed tears. It was the
corpse itself that awoke me. A hand
that had beeu composed by its side, vi
brating as the heavy tread of a student
crossed the room, fellaway loosely from
its position, and with one dead, awful
swing, and hung there. I can see it
now; with the design of a miuiature
anchor, that had once, perhaps play
fully, been pricked into its whiteness,
gleaming upon it. ‘lt is Elise that calls
me,' murmured a voice within, that
hardly seemed my owu consciousness.
‘She gives herself to her race, she wills
that the secret of the demoniacal dis
ease that destroyed her shall be discov
ered, that no other girl shall die away
from love and loverandheaven on earth
by means of it. And with tbe thought
all my old medical fervor surged back
„upon me, my divine curiosity, my de
sire for knowledge, for tbe means
to work miracles of healing, to
bring happiness into homes, and
life back to the dying. I rose in
stantly, and uncovered thatportiou only ,
of the subject on which my work was to
be done, aud without speaking a syllable ,
to the studenta that clustered about me, .
I was at work. They might watch me ]
if they would, I forgot tuem, I was on ,
fire, and trerabliug everywhere but in ,
my hands, which could no more have \
shaken than a fiat of fate could waver \
from its eud. The soft surfaces, the ,
delicate tissues, the placid muscles, one
by one were laid aside, and my knife
went piercing deeper aud deeper, first ,
into the mysteries of God’s work, aDd
then into the mysteries that had entan
gled themselves upon the wholesome (
scheme of creation. It was a terrible
while; the flesh I cut, I fancied that it
quivered the ganglious of nerves, I ,
seemed to see tbe electric fluid of life and
of volitiou running along them with ,
intelligent suffering. What minutes, ,
what hours passed, I know not; the
students dropped away, one after the
other —the work was beyond their
depth —and I did not miss them. ISud
denly I flung up my hands, crying out
and sobbing aloud : I have found it.
The secret was mastered aud mine.
Elise had taught it to me. If she were
alive—ah, bitter mockery—l could have
healed her with the knowledge she had ,
given me ! Then I replaced everything,
drew the sheet over wliat no longer
seemed to bear any relation to Elise,
went and cleansed my hands and
took off my dissecting-dress, glanced ,
at my assistant lying back in a
dead dream, wliere he had sank against j
the wall, and I heard the clock strike ,
three. I had beeu six hours at work. ,
The door opened, two young men en
tered —engaged for the service as I :
thought—advanced to the dissecting
table, shouldered the subject and moved .
again towards the door. I turned my 1
head away, fox after all the touch of ,
other hands than mine on those re
mains, seemed a profanity that I could ,
not endure to see. “ Re-bury her where !
you found her,” I said hoarsely, and ‘
without looking up, yet startled at the >
sound of my own voice, that seemed \
real and positive in tlie midst of uureali
ties. But something, I never knew
what, I do not know to day, made me ,
lift my head. I had not heard the fatal .
click, nor the door close, nor a footfall j
uponthefloor. Y'et, they were gone, aud
I was alone in the room with my heavily J
slumbering assistant. But I had stood (
almost facing the door towards which
they went; they would have been j
obliged, too, in order to open it, to move ,
a heavy table that still remained there (
unmoved; was I the victim of an opti- ,
cal delusiou? was I losing my mind? ‘
I ran to the door, it had a chain bolt, ,
aud that was shot together ; I threw it '
open, there wasnot a souud upon all the
long stairway, only a cold, cold wind, .
4 caoie blowing by me I smiled at my
’self then a little afterwards, as bewil
dered as one in a delirium, forgetting
for the moment, that people who leave (
a room cannot bolt it on the inside, aud ,
I said that my n jrves had been under
more tension than they could bear. (
And then I sat down to think—to thiuk ,
over my discovery which involved so
Inestimable a gain, to brood over the j
fact of my obtaining it which involved j
so irreparable a loss. I wondered at my
coolness; I see now, and it is the only i
thing that in my mind throws discredit ,
on the statement, or that would do so ,
were not my assistant still living to ,
testify for me—that I was in a white *
heat and blazeof emotion and suffering.
“ Reaction from my work and my ex- ,
citement left me soon more utterly ;
wretched than the datoned. I welcomed i
that sort of comatose vacancy of miDd j
that came and benumbed me again.— ]
And then I staid there, staring at no- ]
thing, till the early bells began to call (
the poor to their work. I rose with ;
their clanging stroke—that made me j
shiver in every atom of my body, as if ,
they weredead-bellsthatl heard—went ,
softy out, and down the winding streets, (
till I paused on the steps of tbe house 1
that once Elise had lived in. Theser- i
vants had opeued the doors for the ]
morning paper, and I passed in un
questioned, as on many a morning be- i
fore they had seen me do. I said to (
myself that I would see once more the '
room she had inhabitated—the clothes ,
she had slipped out of. I strode (Juiq£ ,
ly down the hall—up the shorter flight
—across the landing—opened the door,
after one lingering instant with the i
handle in my hand—and Elise lay sleep ,
ing sweetly on her pillow —turning and
opening her eyes in asudden frightened
waking. I dropped in a dead swoon.
“ I thought, when I again became i
conscious, that I bad lost my reason. I ,
would listen to nothing till my assistant
had been summond to corroborate or 1
contradict my memories of the preced
ing night. He substantiated every word
of what I believed to have taken place,
up to the time of his falling asleep. I
could not then have been laboring under
any aberration of intellect. Some
chance —some chance!—some Fate —
some Fate had come to help me and to
heal Elise! There was, at all events,
my discovery of the night. At least,
let me keep fast hold of my secret, for
this still living Elise—keep it, and use
It, and conquer with It!
“ ‘ But, Elise,’ I cried, ‘tell me one
thing—where is the anchor on your
arm?'for I saw the white arm lying
spotless beneath its lace.
On my arm?’ answered she. ‘Oh,
no ; that-was on Emily’s arm. She let
the boys—my brothers—mark it there
one day, to tell us apart by—we were so
much alike. And we are going alike,
too—going the same way,’ she said,
sadly. * You never saw her,’ she added
in a moment afterward.
“ ‘ Yes—l have seen her,’ I replied.
“ And with that I had understood it
all. Sister and brothers, in the sub
limity of unselfishness—willing to spare
Elise from themselves yet a little longer
—willing to spare her to love and a lover,
and a heaven ou earth—coming in this
phantasmal drama,to her cure. The two
brothers, long since shadows, had
brought the apparition of Emily—dead
as long ago as they, and of the same
disease with which Elise was being
consumed —and had suffered me to learn
its fell secret and its cure. I had—great
heavens attest the truth—l had dissect
ed a ghost i ”
“ And Elise? ” asked at last the fear
less little Jessica, when thedoctorseem
ed to have fallen into irredeemable si
lence.
Tbe doctorstarted, aud shook himself,
as If shaking off a flock of dreams.
“ There she sits,” said he. “Elise,
my love, it is every word true, Chil
dren,gobiss your mother.”
Public Education Inttbe United States—
A Catholic View.
lFrom the American Educational Monthly, of
New York. t
“Enlightened rulers all over Europe
i have been profoundly impressed by the
lessons of this and the last century. It
was once believed by monarchs that to
enlighten their subjects would be to
Imperil their thrones. It is now very
clearly seen that “ the divinity which
doth hedge a king” has long ceased to
be an oracle to the people. The French
Emperor erects his dynasty upon popu
lar suffrage. Hereditary right has come
down from its ancient pedestal to accept
from the people the confirmation of its
authority. It is now too evident for
further doubt, that no ruler can rule
modern nations by any appeal to the
mausoleum of his ancestors. The garish
light of the aun has penetrated every
royal tomb, aud has altogether annihi
lated the mystery which once filled
the hearts of nations with awe and un
questioning obedience. Public opinion
now rules the ruler. Kings and their
ministers have now to elect between in
telligent and virtuous opinion on the
one hand, or revolutionary passions on
the other. The wisest of them, there
fore, are hastening to educate the peo
ple; aud they are striving, above all
things, to make such education dis
tinctly Christian and not simply moral ,
for they well remember the fate of ah
nations wh > have staked their salva
tion upon the sufficiency of the natural
virtues. While kings are doing this to
preserve the shadow of their royalty
from the aggressive spirit of the age,
we, in this chosen land, are doing or
aiming to do the same thing, in order
that we may rearsuccessiveueuerations
of virtuous and enlightened heirs to the
rich inheritance of our constitutional
democratic freedom. Ours should be
much the easier task ; as we labor for
no dynasty, but strive only to make a
nation capable of self-preservation.
We are no less in earnest than the
kiugs; and we may surely examiue
their work and see what is good in it.
The kings tried the pagan idea of;
intellectual culture adorned with the .
glittering generalities of moral phi- 1
losophy; and they added to it ihui
maxims of the Christian gospel, when
ever that could be done without
gettiug entangled iu the conllictimr
creeds of the numerous sects. The
school was like Plato’s lecture-room,
only that thesacred voice of the Evange
list was heard occasionally in such pas
sages as do not distinctly set forth faith
and doctrine, about which the scholars
could differ. Sectarianism, as it is call
ed, had to of course in a ;
mixed system of popular education '
wherein freedom of conscience was cou J
ceded to be a sacred right and proaely- j
tism was disavowed. The result was
twofold; first, tens of thousands of
children were deprived of distinct re !
ligious instruction and doctrinal know- i
ledge ; and secondly, in countries where j
the Roman Catholic population was j
large, though in a minority, other tens !
of thousands were left without secular |
education, because their parents would i
not permit them to bo brought up in |
habits of iDdifferentism, which means
practical infidelity, or trained in know
ledge hostile to their religious faith.
Prussia, though she is the very embodi
ment aud representative of Protestant j
Europe,soon came to the conclusion that
this would not do—that education must
be Christian—that it must be doctrinal
and conductive to religious practices—
that, as all could not or would not be
lieve alike, each should have full oppor
tunity to be reaied in liis own faith, to
learn its doctrines and to fulfil its duties
and discipline—and, therefore, that en- \
lightened government established the ]
denominational system, giving to each .
creed practical equality before the law, !
aseparate school organization (wherever
numbers made it practicable), and a
ratable share of the public school fund;
reserving to the government only a
general supervison; so as to secure a
faithful application of the public money,
aud to enforce a proper compliance with 1
tbe educational standard. The public
schools are organized so that every citi
zen shall obtain the complete education
of his child, in tbe faith and practice of
his own Church, All difficulties have
disappeared, and perfect harmony pre
vails.
In France, by the last census the pop
ulation was thirty-seven millions, di
vided about as follows: ISO,OOO Calvin
ists, 2G7,000 Lutherans, 30,000 of other
Protestant sects, and 73,000 Jews; the
remaining thirty-six millions being
either practically or nominally Catholic.
Although the dissenters from the na
tional faith are less than one million,
thatGovernmenthasprovided for them,
at the public expense, separate primary
schools, where eachsectisat full liberty
to teach its own doctrines. There are
likewise three seminaries forthe higher
education of Lutherans and Galvanists.
Austria also supports schools, col
leges and universities for a Protestant
minority.
The British Government has likewise
adopted the same principles of public
education for the Catholics and the Pro
testant dissenters of England; while
with her traditional an malignant hatred
of the Irish people, she still denies them
the justice which she extends to all of
her other subjects, at home or in the
Colonies, even to the Hindoos and Mo
hammedans of her Indian Empire!
"And thus, the most powerful and
enlightened nations have decided that
Christian civilization cannot be main
tained upon pagan ideas ; and that the
safety of every commonwealth depends
upon the Christian education of the
people. They have also clearly seen that
doctrines , discipline, morals, and 11 the
religious atmosphere must be kept
united, and made to penetrate and sur
round the school at all times; and that,
however greatly the Christian denomi
nations may differ from each other, or
err even in their belief, it is far better
for society that theif youth should be
instructed in some form of Christian
doctrine, than be left to peri9h in the
dreary and soul-destroying wastes of
deism. Experience has proved to them
that moral teaching, with Biblical illus
trations, as the piety of Joseph, the
heroism of Judith, the penitence of
David, will not suffice to establish the
Christian faith In young hearts, or to
quiet tbe doubts of inquiring minds.
The subtle Gibbon, mocking the cross
of Christ, will confront the testimony
of the martyrs with the heroes of pagan
history. Voltaire did the same for the
French youth of the last century, to
their destruction. No. The experience
of wise governments is this: that morals
must be based upon faith , and faith
made efficient in ’deeds of practical vir
tue; for, faith worketh by charity. And
another experience is this, which is bear
given in the very words of the eminent
Protestant statesman and historian, M.
Guizot:
“In order to make popular education
truly good and socially! useful, it must
be fundamentally religious. I do not
simply mean by this, that religious in
struction should hold its place in popu
lar education and that the practices of
religion should enter into it; for a
nation is not religiously educated by
such petty and mechanical devices ; it
is necessary that national educa:i>n
should be given and received in the
midatof a religious atmosphere,and that
religious impressions ana religious ob-
servances should penetrate into all its The Exiled Rebels.
?^, B E ?!, lg h K n ri,V! Udj T The Washington correspondent of the
Z da cln l i,” s m E Cincinnati Enquirer gives the follow
aP^^^r^chaou h ghtt’obVfl.t a ev f^ h ‘SK"y
e e e^n n exeTds e e h airf[s er bene™“" 1“ Wf to tbe P^DuM^ed'
I "“““e meaning S inSed movements;
a moment of Sf houm if schioi should - bl “ no f f ? u ? d “ U n < i“ stated
!be left without the religious influence. JJ ha ! b )f ?• o “
l lt is the constant inhalation of the air J*»at Slidell, Benjamin, Davis and Dud
which preserves our physical vitality. ey.Mann were all making ready for
It is the 'religious atmosphere' which ‘ de ‘ r return, in Musequence of this
supports theyoungsoul. Religion can- amo<f ® t y- As for Mr. Davis, he is much
not be made'astudy oran exercise to be !'“°™ 1l H ly 1° r a.
restricted to a certain place and a cer- neBt J 18 f° disregarded, than if h
tain hour.’ It will not do to devote six at Richmond had been dismissed,
days in the week to science, and to de As , f °T tbe . otller exiles, I have been
pend upon the Sunday school for the posted up to some extent touching their
religious training of the child. M. m.eans and future prospects, as well as
Guizot is right. The enlightened gov- , wlahe9 ' The most anxious one to re
ernments of Europe have accepted his tu f r °' P™ b £ bly ’ is General Breckinridge,
wisdom and reduced it to practice in °f Kentucky He hits a large family,
their great national school system.” and Poor-bas nothing at all, in fact,
| “ Eow, the Catholics of the United bu his profession as a lawyer, which is
States have said no more than that; °f little use in making a living abroad
have asked no more than that; and yet f ndl k . non ' that <>o every account
I a wild cry of anger has been raised be h f been „ au f '°“ s for a IoD K
; against them, at times, as though they 10 rn \, Probaby uo , maD “° re
were the avowed enemies of all popular candidly “accepts the situs ioni,” i,
education. They pay their full quota every sense of the word, consistent with
!of ttje public taxes which create the P 3 ™ 0081 hooor - . « e , wo . u d bava bee , u
I school-fund,and yet they possess,to-day, back long ago, but he did not like to
iu proportion to their wealth and uum- e “eounter personal Indignity, home
I bers,more parochial schools, seminaries, of his leading friends have advised him
I academies, colleges, and universities, t 0 raturu at ouee ' but . b « 13 a .“ an of
! established and sustained exclusively S reat caution, and is just as likely as
by their own private resources, than ?otto wait until he can see how the
any other denomination of Christians hmd lies, and the temper of he iiicom
in this country! Certainly, this is no mg Administration toward him. Old
evidence of hostility to education ! And, Jame 9 3I : Mason must be now over sey
why have they mkde these wonderfu futy, and at that time of life local at
'efforts, these unprecedented sacrifices? ?? bmel ? t f unusually s rong. He
It is because they believe in the truth tb ’uks, like all \ irginians, that the Old
i uttered by M. Guizot. It is because Dominion is the finestpart of he world,
they believe in the truth established by aQd wou ‘ d P r f ec B r , eat y 0 bva ,. tbe ™
all history. It is because they believe t 0 a «y where else. Ho had a moderate
in the truth accepted and acted upon by ! ency „^i ba cla f a ,“ r hif'.el'r!'
the enlightened men and governments lu £. from some property of his i lfe,
of this age. It is because they know and though too old and infirm to earn
that revealed religion is to human sci- 8 dollar by P ersonal exertion, was thus
encewhat Eternity is to Time. It is P ut ab ° va , tbe uecesslty of labor I
because they know that the salvation of aee . .“ s ated tbat be ‘ 3 f’ 011 , 11 ° f tl ™
souls is more precious to Christ than the £ bls old bome Winchester, in the
knowledge of astronomers. It is be- ' alley of \ rgima He will be able to
cause they know that the welfare of hnd a, , e . P‘ ace - doubtleS3 ’. and mee
nations is impossible without God. many old friends, but one thing he will
And yet, they fully understand how ” ot3ee ; , vlz: bl 3 old homestead. The
religion has called science to her aide as . ed3ral *”J 0p n s o < l < l! d P d —Vhar * 1
an honored handmaid ; how learning, le a' ing not one stone upon another.
chastened by humanity, conduces to T old J “ bal Early ’ , M t° r L K T„ V
Ch ristian advancement; how the kuowp~^ ee an Av- n ? J “, kßoD ’ he . who f
edge of good and evil (the fruit of the ‘ r Th P^’»rf
forbidden tree) may yet be made toi ? S6,> * ? nd bu . r . n f. d 8 P art .,° r Chambers
honor God, when the sanctified soul ret bul ? m retaliation for the burning of
jects the evil and embraces the goodi Jackson Miss, and other p!laces, went
Therefore the Catholic people desire de^v abroad a ‘ tbe ® lo ? e of the war ’ a . ud ha 3
nominational education, as it is called.” r^ malr md by choice «n exile J don’t
remember whether he accepted a parole
or not; I tliiuk he did, but most cer
tainly he did not“acceptthesituation.”
: He is a proud, defiant, unyielding man;
| slow to take a position and very tena*
I cious of it when once taken. He was
j ati original Union n’an.andobstiuately
I resisted secession until Mr. Lincoln’s
I proclamation was issued, and then he
! went for secession, and the Confederacy
j might have had an abler, but certainly 1
no stouter soldier or more steadfast ad |
herent. He lived before the war in the |
country south of the James River, and j
• I suppose must have managed to save J
some little property from the wreck. I
should take him to be about the last
i man in the world to make a cent in a
j foreign land. His brief-book on the
| Virginia campaign of 1564 is pro
I nounced by Lee’s staff, and I believe
|is considered by Lee himself, as
j tne only book of any real value on the 1
| Confederate side; it is certainly very 1
j terse and perspicuous, but the nature of
[ the man is shown by tbe fact that he
[ gave the copy-right to help the memo
| rial associations of Virginia in collecting
I and markingtbegravesof the Southern
: soldiers who fell on the battle fields of
| tbat State. Said be : “ Perhaps I might
1 have made something by a sale of the
I work ; but I wanted to keep clear of all
• suspicion of writing a book for money.”
j And thus proud, butmanlyaudsincere,
• old Jubal hangs out on the Canada side
; of the frontier, occasionally writing a
i letter about the war, as, for example,
the other day, to prove that Jackson
never proposed the night attack, bowie
knife and bare arm and breast busines
—which the Muse of History—that
I “ lying bitch,” as Watkins Leigh called
| her —has attributed to him. I think old
i Jubal will come back at his leisure when
j the fit takes him and bis money gives
, out A man must have a good deal of
meanness m his nature, be he Radical,
Democrat or Southern, not to sympa
; thize with such a nature,
j As for JakeThompsou, of Mississippi,
w ho used to be Secretary of tbe Interior
under Buchanan—many years before
i in Congress a rigid economist, Gen
: eral Agent of the Confederacy in Canada
in IS<>4—he would have came back long
. ago but for the miserable lie Holt and
>tanton got up between them about his
i being accessory to Lincoln’s assassina
-1 tion. He longer rich as he. was
1 formerly is, I believe, in easy cir
i cumstances. lam sure that he would
greatly prefer to return when he can do
so safeiycand go to planting again. He
has no ambitiou, and says tbat he and
men of his age must give way to the
younger men; but be is still far from
being old, and iB still a man of vigor
i ous, healthy, active intellect.
Mr. John Slidell is in Paris, and has
been there at bis hotel iu the Jiuc de
' Marignan since IS6I. At the time he
| was sent abroad by the Confederacy to
i manage their relations with Louis Na
j poleon, and he expected to stay abroad
a considerable time, and knew the un
certainties of war—being a long headed
man —he took abroad with him a con*
, aiderable amount of property which he
had converted. Hence, though ad
vanced in life, he has been pretty lazy, j
1 and is not starvfed out by the confiscation
of his Louisiana property. One of his j
: daughters was married to Kmile Erlan- '
ger, he who took the European Confed
erate loan, and bid theotherday forone
in Spain; his son has a career in the
French army; the family adore Paris,
and, on the whole, except to transact
some personal business I don’t believe
Slidell would care to return. Tbe easy,
hobnobbing 1 if© *of Paris agrees with
him
French Almanac.
January.— He who is born in this
mouth will be laborious, and a lover of
good wine, but very subject to infideli
ty ; he may too often forget to pay his
debts, blit he will be complaisant, and
withal a fine singer. The lady born in
this month will be a pretty, prudent
housewife; rathermelaucholy, but very
good tempered.
February.—The man born in this
month will love money much, but the
ladies more ; he will be stingy at home
but prodigal abroad. The lady will be
a humaue and affectionate wife and
tender mother.
March.—The man born in this month
will be rather haudsome, he will be
honest and prudent, but will die poor.
The lady will be a passionate chatter
box, somewhat given to fighting, and
in old age too fond of the bottle.
April.—The mau who has themisfor
tune to be borne in this month will be
subject to maladies. He will travel to
his advantage, for he will marry a rich
and handsome heiress, who will make—
what, no doubt you ailunderstaud. The
lady will be tall aud stout, with little
mouth, little feet, little wit, but a great
talker, and withal a great liar.
May.—The man born in this mouth
will be handsome aud amiable. He
will make his wife happy. The lady
will be equally blest in every respect.
June. — ihe man will be of small
stature, passionately fond of womeu and
children, but will not be loved In return.
The lady will beagiddy persohage, fond
of coffee ; she will marry at the age of
twenty-one, and will be a fool at forty
five.
July.—-The man will be fair; he will
sutler death for the wicked woman he
‘oves. The female of this month will
be passably handsome, with a sharp
nose and sulky temper.
August.—The man will be ambitious
aud courageous, but too apt to cheat.
He will have several maladies and two
wives. The lady will be amiable and
twice married ; but thesedond husband
will cause her to regret the flrjft.
September.—He that is born in this
month will be wise, strong and prudent;
but too easy with bis wife, who will
cause him much uneasiness. The lady,
round faced, fair haired, witty, discreet,
affable, and loved by her friends.
October.—The man will have a hand
some face and fiorid complexion ; be
will be wicked in his youth, and always
inconstant. He will promise one thing
and do another, and remain poor. The
lady will be pretty, a little given to con
tradiction, a littlecoquettish, andsome
thiug too fondofwine—she willgive the
preference to eau devie. She will have
three husbands who will die of grief;
and she will best know why.
November. —The man born now will
have a fine face, and be a gay deceiver.
The lady of this month will be large,
liberal and full of novelty.
December. —The man boru in this
month will be a good sort of a person,
though passionate. He will devote
himself to the army, and be betrayed
by his wife. The lady will be amiable
and handsome, with a good voice and
well proportioned body; she will be
married twice, remain poor, but con
tinue honest.
A Literary Curiosity.
The following remarkable little poem
Is a contribution to the San Francisco
Times from the pen of Mrs. H. A. De
raiug. The reader will noticethat each
line is a quotation from some one of the
standard authors of Kngland and Amer •
ica. This is the result of a year’s labo
rious search among the voluminous wri
tings of thirty-eight leading poets of the
past and present. The number of each
line refers to its author below :
1.1 f f..
1. Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
2. Lite's a short Summer, mau a flower.
'3. By turns we catch the vital breath and die;
4. The cradle and the tomb, ala*! so nigh.
5. T" be, Is better far than.not to be,
6. Though all man's life m:-y seem a tragedy:
7. But light cajes ppt-ak when mighty griefs
are dumb. ,
g. The bottom Is but shallow whence they
come.
9. Your fale is but the common 'ate of all;
lb. Unmlntiled joys here t > no man befall
11. Nature to each allots Its prop r spheres
12 Fortune makes folly her peculiar care.
• 18. Custom does often reason overrule,
In And thro *• a cruel sunshine on a fool.
15. Live well; now long or short, peimli to
Heaven ;
16. They who forgive most shall be most :or-
given.
17. Sin may ba clasped so close we cannot see
Its lace —
IS Vile inteicourse, wh*-re virtue has no place.
l'J. Then keep each j asslon down, however
dear,
20. Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.
21. Her sensual snares left faithless Pleasure
lay,
21. With craft and skill, to ruin and betray.
23. hoar not too high to fall, but stoop to rise ;
24 We masters grow of all that we -leapise.
25. Oh, then, I renounce that impious self-
esteem ;
26 Riches have wings, aud grandeur is a
drt-am.
27. Think not ambition wise because'Lis brave;
28. The paths of glory lead bu to the grave.
29. What Is ambition ? TU a glorious cheat—
-80. Only destructive to the brave aud great
What’s all the gaudy glitter of a crown ? •
82. The way to bliss lies not on beds of down
38. H w long we live, not years, but actions
tell;
31. That man lives twice wno lives the first life
well.
35. Make, then, while yet we may, yonr God
ycur friend
36. Whom Christians worship, yet not compre
hend
37. The trust that’s given guard, and to your
self tie Just;
38 For live we how we can, die we must.
1, Young; 2, Dr. Johnson ; 3, Pope ; 4, Prior:
5, a well; H, Spenser ; 7, Darnel; 8, Sir Walter
Raleigh; 9, Longfellow; 10,Southwell; ll.Coa
greve; 12, Charcnill: 13, Rochester; 14, Arm
strong ; 15, Milton! is, Bailey; 17,'Ireuch; 18,
omervilie; 19, Thompson; 20, Byron; 21,
Smollett; 22. Crabbe; 23, MasslDger; 24, Cow
; 25, Beattie ; 26, Cowper - 27, Sir Walter
Devenant;‘.B. Gray ; 29, Willis; 30, Addison :
,31, Dryden; 32. Francis Quarles; 33 Watkins;
34, Herrick ; 35, William Mason; 36, Hill* 37,
Dana; 38, ah&kapeare.
Tall Policemen,
We are proud of our tall and handsome
policemen, but are not the commissioners
rather too exacting as to height, with can
didates otherwise well qualified for police
service? It is said that an applicant who
was rejected at night was so nearly of the
requisite height that his physician advised
him to go home, get up early in the morn
ing, take a warm bath, and apply again, as
a man is a little taller in the morning, and
j ust after taking a warm bath, than at other
times. The applicant followed the doctor's
advice, and succeeded in getting appointed.
,—# r. mu.
Lewis T. Wigfall made bis way abroad
at the close of the war somehow or
other ; he is a man of desperate energy,
and he has been practising law, J be
lieve, in some irregular way, not in the
Courts of England, and gets along some
how or other. He can not have much
money, and I fancy would be very glad
to be back in Texas at the law once
more. He is in many respects an ex
traordinary man, a born revolutionist,
never disheartened, whatever the storm
or the tempest; best pleased, perhaps
when the waves run high, devoted to
his own pet schemes or ideas, has a pas
sion for some people and can hate others
like the glow of an anthracite furnace,
ia always driving away at something,
yet never depressed by failure, and will
never give up hope as long as he can
find a listener. Give him half a dozen
listeners and he is perfectly happy. As
we are to peace,” I think Wig
fall and the bDited States could har
monize matters by allowing him to
harangue a Texas jury. What harm
would it do, pray ?
After a curious and most romantic
series of ad ventures, Mr. J. P. Benjamin,
ex-Secretary of State, and the Disraeli
of the Southern Confederacy, made his
way to the West Indies, thence to Eng
land, and there he, once the most
eloquentofpleadersin the United States
Supreme Court, commenced “eating his
terms,” as it is called, in the Temple,
preparatory to admission to the Courts
of Westminister. For a year the ex-
Senator, ex Secretary of State, ex-
Pleader of America, went through this
probation just as might have done any
fledgling from Oxford or Cambridge,
when all of a sudden John Bull con
cluded to relax his iron rule in favor of
the brilliant stranger, and dispense
with the two remaining years of pre
paration for the mysteries of Themis.
This made all easy; once in Court, the
clear thought, the most riuging tone,
the ease of manner, unapproached even
In the wonderful perspicuity
and power of statement which had once
made even Douglas, Crittenden and
Hunter look well to their weapons,
found their way to the ears and eyes of
the bench, and the solemn old cocks in
their gowns went out of their way to
pay a compliment to the new advocate.
This distinction, added to merit and
work, won clients ; and now, after get
ting out a new law book on sales, be
hold our ex-Senator, fixed for life, pro
bably in his gown, at Westminster
happy there, cheerful everywhere, ir
repressible, and. never without a smile,
save under the influence of an occa
sional headache—the lot of an exile, a
flea-bite to the philosopher.
As for old Dudley Maun, he who used
NUMBER 3
to write awful long letters for Father
Ritchie’s Union, over the signature of
“Agricola, M £what they were about no
[ body but he knows,) an enthusiast over
the “Great Eastern,” which he was
once under the impression he bad per
sonally constructed, once luxuriating in
a European mission, sent there by the
United States, and subsequently fixed j
up comfortably in a similar ease at
Brussels, by the Confederacy, where ho
’ shed his ink like a man ; why, he Is all
right now. He has got money euough
to live on, in a shabby, genteel style at
Bonn, or some otherUerman town, nod
he is half Dutchman anyhow. Europe
suits him far better than a country
where taxes are high, and bowing ami
scraping, and pleasant, amiable grim
aces voted a bore. Old Dudley has in*
use for the Uuited States, and the
United States still leas for him. Pom
old fellow! Who would grudge him hi-*
pasture and the occasional luxury ut
kicking up his beeJa?
As fur Bev. Tucker, everybody knows
him, or did know him ouce—“a fellow
ufiufiultejesi”—the very prince of good,
jolly fellows, that will, if you give him
a chance by getting him at a supper,
.-ay so many guod thiugs thatyou would
uever afterward think of a square meal
without him. What an outrage that
this man, any one of whose jokes is
worth a dozeu fStantons, Holts or Lafay
ette Bakers, should have been kept
abroad all this tiraean exile —his family
large, pooraud very needy—on the ridic
ulous pretext of having helped to as
sassinute Mr. Lincoln, whereas he never
helped assassinateauy thing but canvas
back ducks aud oysters ; and I believe
he could put a bushel ol both under his
belt at one sitting with perfect ease.
He is, as I remarked, impecunious, and
I know prefers the Lynuhaveu ami
Norfolk to the pretentious, but email
aod coppery, OsteHil oyster. Does not
such patriotism deserve a better reward. 1
Nor would lie object at all to a slight l
drop of the “ fusel-oil,” whether uative I
or foreign, and if auy body thinks to !
insult him by allusions to Bourbon,Jus.t j
let him produce the iusult, aud see if it I
be not promptly swallowod.
I have barely a word to add about Mr. j
Davis. A few mouths ago Mr. Davis j
went down to Mississippi, intending to |
stay there, and, i believe, go to plautiug i
aguin ; for his local attachments are
very strong, aud he is deeply attached I
to his old friends and the home where
he has passed so large a part of his life.
But whatever he did or left undone, the
Radicals distorted it and made a fuss; ;
malice pursued him at every step, and
finally he left for Europe to get rid of it,
stating to one of his friends that lie
would sacrifice himself and his own
interests and desires rather than be the :
occasion of drawing down increased <
persecution and malignity agulnst the
people of his State. Rather than do
this, welcome exile and its bitter bread. (
Mr. Davis’ means are very scaut; like
General Breckinridge, he owes much to
the bounty of friends. The story of his I
having caused funds to be conveyed to
Europe while he was President for his ■
own benefit, in case of final reverse, is '
discredited by the fact of his poverty,
as well as by the fact that he made no j i
serious effort to escape till almost the last
moment, and then reconsidered his de- •
sign, and retraced his steps on hearing I
of Mrs, Davis being annoyed by mu- j
rauders. Nor do Stanton aud Holt de- j
serve any special credit for this fabri
cation of theirs, it; being the precise
course they would have adopted iu like 1
circumstauces. Anti this, I think, com ,
pletes the list of pramiueut exiles who
are affected by this proclamation. There
are a few others, who are at home, who
come in under this hist amnesty, whose
later career may noticed on some
future occasion.
Military Kale lu Texas—\ 4'ltizcu Wan
tonly Hilled.
[From the New Orleans Picayune, .Jnnunryf>
The Picayune’.* readers are not ignorant
of the sad condition to which Reynold’.**
rule has brought the Stale of Texas. Mmir
uvieff’s rule In Poland was more endurable
at large, and to proud spirit*, infinitely less
galling; for, whereas the Russian satrap
served one muster, an “enlightened des
pot,” Reynold’s was the tool of a faction
that illustrates the most odious and mean
est vices of party rule. During bis regime
wherever the military were in sufficient
numbers to overawe the Citizens, aud ilie
Radical miscreants had personal or politi
cal ends to compass. the people held their
lives, liberty, and property ut the hazard,
as it were, <n a die. We need not rehear*,
the sad and shameful story of the la*;
year, The last act in this trugedy oi
military despotism has just been i-nacted
at Jetlerson. By a telegram to Me-srs
Speitke it Uuckuer, we learn that ('apt.
Win Perry, of the firm of Perry it Nor
wood, was shot und killed by Uuited State
soldiers in Jefferson on the night of the H-i
inst., “through mistake,” as they say. Tin
deceased was the father of Wiley T. Perry.
E-q., a resident of our city, hie was a geii
tleuian of irreproachable character in every
relation of life, enjoying an enviable repu
tation in Jefferson as a man of business.
His friends here, who knew him well, re
gard his death aa entirely unprovoked, a
be was one of the last men to have made
himself obnoxious to the powers that he
Jefferson is now garrisoned by nearly o.OUO
men. Some of her best citizens are in
military prison, and oihers “ark wanted ”
Wo suppose Mr. Perry was shot and killed
in a military raid. Is this a freo country ?
Negroes Preferred to Crippled Soldiers.
The Washington correspondent of the N.
Y. Herald says :
The attempt was made by the Secretary
of the Treasury to effect a slight change in
the department by discharging a number
of the negro messengers and filling the va
cancies thus created with ex-soldiers who
have rendered the country good service iu
the field. Tbo Secretary, a fun* much delib
eration and inquiry, issued an order dis
charging about a dozen of thoie sable Mer
curies, and in so doing ho brought down
about his ears a large sized hornet’s nest,
iu the shape of an avalanche of paper re
monstrances from the heads of the bureaus
which had thus been deprived of their mes
sengers. The written protests ot appear
ing to have the desired effect of procuring
a recession of the order, the illustrious
beads waited upou the Secretary in a body
and staled that it was impossible for them
to conduct the business of their offices with
out their colored messengers. They sue
cceded in convincing the Secretary that a
negro messenger was as necessary to the
transaction of government business'in their
respective bureaus as was tbo bead of the
bureau himself, it seems, for the Secretary
took everything back, negro messengers
included.
A Slnjjntnr .Statement.
The New York ,Sun publishes a letter
from a person signing himself Alonzo
Hawes, late of ilurtford, Connecticut, but
now of St. Albaus, Vermont, in which lie
says:
It is a well known fact that the late Mrs.
Sigourney, of Hartford, Coun., had a son
who was reported to hsve been drowned m
the Bast River, New York, in 1857—1 he
lieve that is the year—but late confessions
and documents of a dying woman prove tip
contrary. The legitimate son ot the late
Mrs. Lydia. H. Sigourney is still living.
He i« a perfect image of his mother, and
h»- also possesses his mother's talent, that
of writing poetry and prose. His name
•is Andrew. The person that was
drowned, and was supposed to be her
sou, was not hers, but had been exchanged
in infancy for her legilimate child, accord
ing to the confessions of a lady who lately
filed. This confession, with oiher letter*
and documents, will soon be given to Re
public ill rough the press, and they are such
that will startle the whole community.
They are in the posse-sion of a clergyman
who is well known. It you wish you can
trive these particulars in your paper. Mrs.
Sigourney’s son served in the late war,and
returned home a Major. He is now in a
town in this State loved and resp-eted by
all who know kirn, and it is rumored that
he will receive a lucrative appointment un
der the administration of General Grant.
These are facts; and as lie is pretty well
known in your city, it may ,be of interest
to many of your reuders.
Death In the I . N. Neimte.
Washington, Jun. 13.
About three o’clock tins afternoon, while
Mr. Howard was making a legul argument
in the Senate in the Sue Murphy claim, an
old man in one of the galleries, who had
been an attentive listener to the debate for
several days, was observed to sink down
into his seat as if faintiDg. Assistance
being received, he was carried out to the
telegraph, room adjoining the reporters'
galley, where a few moments afterwards he
expired. A ticket fora nook from the Con
gressional Library was found in his pocket,
which gave bis name and residence as
Richard B. Dorsey, Duddiugton Row, Capi
tol Hill, and from a member of his family
who was sent for, it was ascerruined that
his age was 7S years, and that the cause oi
his death was probably paralysis, as he had
previously suffered from attacks of that dis
ease. The body was removed to his resi
dence, where an inquest will be held.
Wm. Greenleaf Webster, son of Nouli
Webster, author ot Webster’s Dictionary,
died at New York on the Ist. at the age ol f
53 years. Mr. Webster bad himself much
to do with the famous dictionary of his
father and edited subsequent adaptailonsof
that celebrated work. He was a man of
scholarly attainments, and of gentle and
elegant manners/
BATE OF ADVEBTISI3TO
Business Adyertisekehtb, 712 a year ,
qo&re of ten lines; stf per year for encb u<
altlonal square.
Real Estate Advectibino, iocsdu a Hue i<
tbeSrvt, and sconts for each snbßequeot )i
aertlon.
General Advrktisincj 7 cent* a lino for tb
lira' Mid 4 cents for each subsequent Insei
Uon.
Spkoial Notices inserted In l4>cal Coluiui
15 cents per lino.
Special Notices preceding marriages an
deaths, 10 cents per line for first lnsertloi
and 5 cents forovory subsequent Insertion;
Legal and oxn k a notices -
Executors’ notices ... 2J»
Administrators - iQO
Assignees’ notices, 2.M
Auditors’ notices, ...... 2.00
Other “Notices, ’ten lines,**or**lessi 2
three times, i.gp
Neve Items.
Paris smoked S00,l)00,0d0 cigars last yea;
Female compositors set up the San Fran
cisco Californian.
In Cincinnati nineteen ladieshavelormet
an Kqual Suffrage S' cietv.
The cultivation of olive trees is becomihi
extensive in California.
Hon. Oden Bowie has been inauguralei
Governor of Mnrylund.
Wm. M. Stewart was reelected l.
Senator by the Nevada Legislature
Tbo canals of Now York last ve.ir \ ieldo
a surplus revenue of $3,693,300.’
Henry Ward Beecher .-ays women inaki
tue best prayers in lus congregation.
The Bsrnev WiUiam.-es have made a fur-
’ 'lunm.-c.i tin n utauv (v -
tune of
A bottle ot whiskv and $.-)() »s tho price ol
a seal skin in Ai -ska.
A yearling baby was carried .»u two milei
In - an eagle in IVum-s>ee the other day.
A school has h-ei) r-Mabii-hetl 111 the Cnli-
I n uia State prison u>r ihe bem lii ot tti,- mi
tel lei ed.
rile Lallans ot San Fiaiieisrn have laid
ihe I'oi uer-sioiu* of a he w ho.-piml.
Flogging in the auuv lui • Leon aboli.-dud
i’l Sweden.
The New ork Female Club is getting up
a course ol leetui. s.
Jhe proiess..is get $3OO per’tnoiith in the
CiiUlorniu Fniversitv.
One hundred and two females teuohers in
Boston demand the rigid to vote.
Peanuts art'said to be a very exhausting
crop, both for [lie jaws and tlicholj.
Longielio w and Present t are said to be the
two American writers be-t known in Italy.
Gen. Pro-ton, !a:e minister to Spain, lius
been elected to the Kentucky Legislature.
Some 19:5,6-10 Engli.-hmen get righting
drunk every year—iuvoiding to the Court
records.
Recently, at Magdeburg, a widow of 7.'
married her seventh husband. He was lesi
than thirty years old.
A hairless squirrel lias been caught in
Natchez, Its skin is soli and smooth, und
evidently never hud any hair upon it.
Two American students at Gottingen
fought a duel with pistols last month, übout
Grant and Seymour.
The pecuniary }<•*» by the recent earth
quake at San l-bancisco will, it is said, ex
ceed three millions of dollars.
The Commissioner of Indian Affairs, In
his report, estimates 1 lu* number of Indians
to bo provided for at 3tin non.
A Philadelphia prolessor has invented a
steam brick kiln, wherein 100.000 brteksenn
lie evenly burnt in three days.
The Siamese twins ure in Liverpool. They
will make a tour of the United Kingdom as
a show before going to Paris to bo cut apart.
There are twenty eight newspupor cor
respondents -in Paris, twenty ot thorn
Americans.
Governor Hoffman is thirty nineymrsof
ago; and the youngest Governor New York
ever had except .Seward.
The winter is so mild in some parts of
England thut mushrooms have been pick
ed in the open holds in December.
At a fashionable dinner recently given in
New York the bills of tare wore found in a
gold nut at the plate of each guest.
'1 bo Stevenson cotton case in Now York,
involving $1,000,000, was decided against
the Government.
About 100 otllcers of Stale Courts in Vir
ginia have been removed wltuin three
weeks, in pursuance of the Fourteenth
Amendment.
Wm. P». Haskins, ol Uockporl, Me.,
year- old, has been amusing himself with
skating leads that would tire many of the
boys.
The incomo of the Girard ealnlu in Phila
delphia last vear was $105,836, and tbo ex
penses $617,.576 Of this sum, $1:55,618 whs
expeuded on the Girard College.
During IS6S, the number of loreign clear
ances at 80-tun was .'5,017, nun prising a ton
nage of 5.53.549 a gain of 699 vessels oyer
1877,. but a decline m tonnage of 61,066 tons.
Thirty thousand cigars of a
valuable brand were a»*ized at New Orleans
a lew days ago. About the same quantity
were contiscated at Boston recently.
John Scott, the Republican nominee for
United Stales Senator Inm Pennsylvania,
is said to have been a “ tanner boy ” in his
youth.
Auotncial despatch from Fort Hays, Kan
sas, reports the capture ol a ('nmanctio yil
luge of .sixty lodg-n, by Go!. Evans. Three
soldiers Were wounded.
A boarding school Mi-s, being unwell,
deemed It vulgar to say that she was “ Bil
ious,” so she coiJipluiui-d ol being “Wll-
ItamoUH.”
There was a convention of Alumna in
St. Puul, Minn., the oilier day, and the
daughter ot a prominent Radical ran away
with one ol the tick.-.-..
The postmaster at Salem, Massachusetts,
is a do'uujier to the tune of $6O Out). He Is
not dishonest; only lorgot where he put the
money.
Three negroes have been arrested for mur
dering GuOriel Martin and two maiden sis
ter« and afterward burning their uodius, in
Columbia, Ga.
Dr. Lewis S. Eichi lberger, whose sudden
death was announced n tow weeks ago, in
the Charleston, (W. V., /-V«*c Prrxx left
three rule Insurance polies, of $60,000
each, making SOU,IJUU.
Pennsylvania owes $33,686,940: Massa
chusetts, $)0 516.560 ; Illinois, $5 MB -153 ;
Delaware. $1566 000; Michigan, $3.61-1,07S
(bonded,) $6.031,-Do (trust fund) ; Missouri
SIH 654,000 ,
Deer, it is said, were never more plenty
•in Northe.ru New YuYk than ui present.
One master hunter, who employ., some
thirty men to hunt for him. ims sent up
wards ot 500 carcasses to market this season.
David Dudley Field is elecied President
of the Free-Trade league, in New York, iu
place of Mr. Bryant, who has for years
tilled that post. Mr. Delinur is the secre
tary ot tile league.
Ward K. Lumou is writing the secret his
tory of Mr. Lincoln’s administration. He
has bud access to important documentary
remains, and some curious revelation* of
public men may be anticipated.
Gov. MeHlurg, (if Missouri, in his Inau
gural address, recommends the submission
anew of tho negro suffrage amendment to
the -State Constitution, and opposes the en
franchisement of ex-rebels.
Detective liarmore, of Nashville, return
ing from a business trip to Puluski, was
taaen from a train on the Nashvillo and
Decatur Railroad by a bund of men ‘lfr in
number, with masks. What tkeydid with
him is unknown.
Henry Clay s son Theodore is an inmnte
"I the lunatic asylum at Lexington, Ky.
He is small in stature and thin, with il bald
head und gray hair and wlii-ki-rs. He sel
dom speaks, but recognize-, those who ad
dress him by returning the saiuto politely
and with dignity.
Or.o of the largest liquor dealers in Bos
lou—a leading advocate of the present li
cense law—who has three stores in full op
eration, has never yet procured a license.
He says be prefers to ruu iho risk of prose
cution to paying the cost oi a license und
tho percentage on his sal'** required bv the
law. His tines have not been very heavy
thus lar.
An energetic effort is made to have the
President pardon Dr. Mudd and Spangler,
convicted of complicity in the assassination
ot President Lincoln. A number of peti
tions from various quarters have been pre
sented in behalf of Mudd, and to-day a del
egation ot citizens of Maryland called upon
the President and urged the pardon of tho
last-named prisoner. Spangler’s friends
have presented some influential recommen
dations for pardon. All these petitions are
referred to the Attorney General.
NtarUlng Tragedy ou n Coolie Ship.
A letter from Yokohama gives tho par
ticulars of u tragic affair which happened
on a coolie ship, first supposed to be Urn
I (slian bark ProviJenzia, but which proved
to be the t’lyalto, which sailed from Callao
for another part ot the South American
coast. When two days out the coolies took
possession, made the crew last to an anchor
and consigned them to the depths below,
retaining the captain, who promised to
navigHie the slop to Chinn. But he evi
dently changed his mind, us he look th< rn
to *‘<me place norih of llskodadi, probably
(lie Fox Islands, and ib'-re, upon pretence
of gening tood onshore, deleft with his
servant, lull returned no more. The coolies
then took the vessel to llnkodndi, Th-y
refused to give any satbineiory account
until the United 'Males "loop oi War Iro
(piois was M-I.’ i hither, when the truth was
wrung out of them.
Another Terrlltie t: all way Accident-
NEW YohK, Jan. Li —A special despatch
to the H oWti, from Pittsburg, to-day, says,
that a terribly fatal accident occurred at an
1 early hour this morning to ike uigbt train
;on the “Pan Handle'' Railroad, at Cork’s
j Ruu, about three miles below this euy.
! The heavy rains of yesterday had washed
| the earth from heneuth die track,
| and left hundreds of ties without foun
j dutton. When the train reached the place
: the sleepiug car was detached from the train
' and was hurled over an embankment sixty
feet high. Of seven persons in the cur, three
were instantly killed and the others severe
ly injured. The killed were John AlUn,
sleeping car conductor, C. McPh-rson, of
Springfield, Ohio, and Robert Chester, of
Pennsylvania. Henry C. Bonett, ulso of
Springfield, is thought to be mortally In
jured ; also a young student, on his way to
a western college, injured internally.
Joku Reiuecke, a drover from Kentucky,
was injured in the foot. The wreck took
fire immediately after tho accident, but was
extinguished with some difficulty. The
bodies of the killed were brought to this
city.