She pmrMtM Intrtttgtnttv,
\ PUBLISHED EVSET WSDUBBDAT BT
H. G. SMITH d CO
H. G. Smite
TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, pa7ftl
in all eases In advance. ,
Tnn LANCASTER DAILY IkTELLIOEWCBB
published every evening, Sunday excepted;
$5 per Annum In advance.
OFFlCE—Southwest cobweb or cj
3 HU abb.
fochtj.
THE FIBE BY THE SEA.
BY ALICE GAEY.
There were sovoti Ushers with nets In their
hands.
Ami they walked ami talked by the seaside
sands;
Yet sweet as the sweet dew-fall
The words they spake, though tuey apttiio so
Idw, ‘
Across the long, dim centuries How.
,Aud we kuuw them, one and all—
Aye! know them and love them *ll.
Haven sad men In tho days of old,
And one wuagentle, and one was bold,
And thoy walked with downward eyes;
The bold was Peter, the gentle was John,
And they ail were sad. tor the Lord was gone,
And they knew not If be would rise—
Knew not if the deud would riso.
The live-long night, till the moon went out,
iu the drowning water*, they boat about;
lleatslow through the logs their way ;
A ud I ho sails drooped ilowu with ringing v. r
And no man drew but an empty net,
Aud now ’Lwas the break ot the uny—
The great glad break or i be day.
•Cast ymi; t els on the other side’’—
t’Twius Jtsus speuklng across tlio tliltl—
And they erst, aud were dragging hard;
Hut that disciple w hum Jesus loved
Cried s' wight aay out,lor h 1 ■; heart was moved:
“It Is our risen Lord—
Our Master, uud our Lord l"
Then Simon, girdiDg his Usher’s coat.
Went over the nets and out ot Hi-: boat -
Aye! ilrstni them all wan lie;
Kepon ling sore tho dsulul past,
lie leared no looger his heart tu cast
. Llko an anchor into lliq sea—
Down deep in ihe hungry tea.
And the others, Lhtout'll the mists u> uim,
iu a little ship camealier nlm,
Dragging their mt thr-'-ugh the tide ;
And when they hud gotten close to th.- land
They saw a Uru of coals In the sand,
And, with arms ol love so wale,
Jesus, the c ucilkd !
\Hs Jong and long, and long iigo
Meco too rosy lights h tguii to thiw
O’er ibe hlllsot Da'lir e;
And with eager eyts and lifted hand:.
The seven Ushers sn w on I he sands
Tho lire of coals by the sou—
On tho wet, wild hands by the sea.
' I'ls long ago, yet faith !u our touls
Is kindled Inst, by that lire of coals
That streamed o't r tin- mists of Hi" : e.i
Where Peter, girding his iKher'se-ml,
Wentover the net and outol tlio boat,
To answer, “ Luv’st tliuu me "
’i hrleo over, “ LovVt thou ir.o? ”
F.u iis Allan i;i; bvi.i
»iv JONH'S mu:res iikown, umjiu', .m.tiit in
Ilavlu heard .hi big Loss radle.iih a u,u>.:u;d
times do i.ir
D.it da black folks and do while fok s v. as per
/.ackly on a nar.
At dare word 1 ’sol. el to take em, and so J
maile a call
On da emits <:m puddled tick-. U fur (Hunt's
’naugurul ion bull.
Hey was '-ellln ’H>r a t-ihh-, looittn iiilfy proud
and sMlt,
An’ dereclily dls chile show hosoll, dey ul lie
gun tu miur,
■~'es da eheeiman, “ Who at<• ;i,;i i i.alr:' 1 s-s T,
“ A man and Imidd.-r
Hut ho Hlmelc his head ns if Im •‘meant, "I’m
il imticil If you am, midder."
Hi'S I. “’Hcu.se me, my- good boKsev, I don't
mean no nth nee,
I'm a wool-dyed black ltepublic.m, In-do berry
sti uugest sense;
Ami me uud my .old ’nun.an—nbe'h Jam up at
iieol and toe
To your 'nnugurutPm breakdown, h v' <• ,n
-ydooded wo will go.
Don I hauls out iwognod flveis, but says Hkenk,
“ My nigger friend,
Dot: your knller and yuur prlnclplrs N quite a
recotumoud,
Uut you sou dls ling I: pt l vit ; w..’re p'tasod to
huv you call.
Hut wo keuuot sell you I 'ukets, not di: no nc.
count at all.”
Turnin' up dur 'lcbui no: is, dtyali moHoued
to do door,
Aml one whisper<d to ce messenger, "Turn
out dat niguer bon-"
Ho bein' (julu- i 1 l.sgust ilh d, I left do sneakin
(TOO,
Anil darned'em all lot-mean while tnish by
Way oi an adoo.
lUack Ham, a v-.titer at de ball, ulh.w.-i he m h
bur set, ,
Seuco Unnimdy let him Mb, a moi >• j j . miscus
sr>r< e;
Nabs* loufevs. b-dlec, and skullvw:*!; >, all goln’
it togcdiler,
L ko buttertlles and tuiubli r-huga, and hop
loads In a nn-dJcr.
Do ladles Uey waslm-sild round, da;e skarts
aud punlers loi ed,
I’f* gjmmou Just d ir hats and sacks, :.nd some
ot ’em was (loured ;
Aud slick a UgUt lor oysters, creams, honed
turkey and champagne.
aim hop“H, for human miter s sake, he’ll neb
see again.
I'm boriy glnd we dld-.r: go, hiich rows don’t
correspond
Wlv do refined and hutiful of Afrlci’s bo mond.
ALkullard parlies all de gents am quiet and
and polite
Do blade elect don't lower di nisei ves to skram
l)lo like do white. •
Downlug a:i.! !:<>k< r .icy i — dey didu't
sluuiM- iU; r:i< i
Hy try in at dc
pi-ire.
I.‘i*y tumid Jo i ysitiH (or d« liaiJ, aud tlro«L de
iml II'; Ini h*,
Kill ills chi Ip in n Jo! ml !o s:.y Jat milker yellt
".van d.i
:i:d p'M.wovr lo occupy a
And now my l.roM en l.ir tunl iiuar, I clodo
wul til* ri.lint! It,
Keep yoursolvc* nlluyHio with
your o * n l?ni;.T ir,
AUtl linn*:. J< t urn ion ici yuur wives
mill rool;
•\* do h-’i-l |.m u giJH'h ii :.d sheep, yuu mnst
pa l d.- Inr :i»d w-.-.l
—.lrsirt ilium's llrowk,
%. gUsccUuncmic.
flic Secret or the Two Plaster Casts.
Years before the accession of her Ma
jesty Qu.'en Victoria, uml yet at not so
remote a date as to be utterly beyond
the period to which the reminiscences
of our middle-aged readers extern!, it
liappeneil that two Fnglish gentlemen
sat at table on a summer’s e veniug, after
diuner, quietly sipping their wine and
engaged m desultory conversation. They
were both men known to fame. One of
them was a sculptor whose statues
adorned the palaces of princes, and
whose chiselled busts were the pride of
half the nobility of his nation ; the other
was no less renowned as an anatomist
and surgeon. The age of the anatomist
might have been guessed at fifty, but
the guess would have erred on the side
of youth by at least ten years. That of
the sculptor could scarcely be more than
llve*aud«Lhlrty. A bust of tbe anatomist,
so admirably executed as to present, al
though in stunt*, the perfect similitude
oflife and ilesh K stood upon a pedestal
opposite to the table ut which sat the
pair, and at once explained at least one
connecting link of companionship be
tween them. Theanatomist was exhib
iting for the.criticism of iiis friend a
rate gem which he hail just drawn from
his cabinet; it was a crucifix, magnifl
.‘eoutly carved in ivory, and incased in a
setting of pure gold.
“ The carving, my dear sir, ,J observed
Mr. Fiddyes, the sculptor, "is indeed,
as you say, oxquisue. The muscles are
admirably made out, the llesh well
modelled—wonderfully so for the size
and material; and yet—by-the-by, on
this point you must know more than J
—the more X think upon the matter, the
more I regard the artistic conception as
utterly false and wrong.”
“You speak in a riddle, replied Dr.
Camell; “hut pray goon, and explain.”
“ It is a fancy 1 first had in my stu
dent days,” replied Fiddyes. “ Con
ventionality, not to say a most proper
and beeomiug reverence, prevents peo
ple by no means ignorant from consid
ering the point. But once think upon
It, and you at least, of all men must at
once perceive how utterly impossible it
would be for a victim nailed upon a
cross by hands and feet to preserve tbe
position invariably displayed iu figures
of the Crucifixion. Those who so por
tray it fail in whatshould be their most
awful and agouiziug effect. Think for
one moment, and imagine, if you can,
what would be the attitude of a man,
living or dead, under this frightful tor
ture.”
“You startle me,” returned the great
surgeon, “not only by the truth of your
remarks, but by their obviousness. It
is strange, indeed, that such a matter
should have so long been overlooked.
The more I think upon it, the more the
bare idea of actual crucifixion seems to
horrify me—though Heaven knows I
am accustomed enough to scenes of suf
fering. How would you represent such
a terrible agony?”
“Indeed, I can’t tell,” replied the
sculptor; “to guess would be almost
vain. The fearful straiu upon the mus
cles, their utter helplessness and inac
tivity, the frightful swellings, the effect
of weight upon the racked and tortured
sinews, appal me too much even for
speculation.”
“But this,” replied the surgeon,
might think a matter of importance,
not only to art, but, higher still, to re
ligion itself.”
“Maybe so,” returned the sculptor.
“But perhaps the appeal to the senses
through a true representation might
be too horrible foreither the one or the
other.”
“Still,” persisted the surgeon, “I
should like—say for curiosity—though
I am weak enough to believe even in
my motive os a higher one—to ascertain
the effect from actual observation.”
“ So should I could it be done, and of
coursewithcfutpaintothe object, •vyliioh,
as a condition, seems to present at the
outset an impossibility.”
“ Perhaps not,” mused the anatomist,
“I think I have a notion. Stay—we
-!(Die Sanaistev intelligencer.
: ta
at _ , ■ „
„ VOLUME 70 LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING MARCH 24 1869- NUMBER 12
A. J- STBINM.
J may contrive this matter. I will tell
you my plan t -andit will be strange in
deed if Tve two cannot manage to carry
it out'*
The discourse here, owing to the rapt
attention uf both speakers, assumed a
low and earnest tone, but had perhaps
better be narrated by a relation of the
events to which it gave rise. Suffice it
to say that the Sovereign was more than
once mentioned during its.progress, and
in a manner which plainly told that
the two speakers each possessed suffi
cient influence to obtain the assistance
of royalty, and that such assistance
would be required in their scheme.
Theshades of evening deepened while
the two were still conversing. And
leaving the sceno, let us cast one hurried
glimpse at another taking place con
temporaneously.
Between Pimlico and Chelsea, and
across a canal of which the bed has since
been used for the railway terminating
at Victoria Station, thoro was at the
time of which we speak a rude timber
footway, long since replaced by a more
substantial and convenient erection, but
then known as the Wooden Bridge. It
was named shortly afterwards Cut
throat Bridge, and for this reason.
While Mr. Fiddyes and I)r. Carnell
were discoursing over their wine, as we
have already seen, one Peter Starke, a
drunken Chelsea pensioner, was mur
dering his wife upon the spot we have
last Indicated. The coincidence was
curious.
In those days the punishmentofcrim
iuals followed closely upon their con
viction. The Chelsea pensioner whom
we have mentioned was found guilty on
Friday and sentenced to die on the fol
lowing Monday. He was a sad scoun
drel, impenitent to the last, glorying in
the deeds of slaughter which he had
witnessed and acted duringtheseriesof
compaigns which had just ended previ
ously at Waterloo. , He was a tall, well
built fellow enough, of middle age, for
his class was not then as now, composed
chielly of veterans, but comprised man}’
youug meu, just sufficiently disabled to
be uuiit for service. Peter Starke,
although but slightly wounded, had
nearly completed his term of service,
and had obtained hja pension and pre
sentment to Chelsea Hospital. With
his life we have littlo to do, save as
regards its dose, which we shall shortly
endeavor to describe far more voraci
ously, and ut som# greater length than
set forth in the brief account which
satislled the public of his own day, and
which, ns embodied in the columns of
the few journals then appearing, ran
thus:
‘On Monday last Peter (Starke was
executed at Newgate for the Murder at
l lie Wooden Bridge, Chelsea, with four
others for various offences. After he
had been hanging for a few minutes a
respite arrived, but although lie was
promptly cut down, life was pronounced
to be extinct. His body was buried
within the prison wnlls.”
Tims far history. But the conciseness
of history far more frequently embodies
falsehood than truth. Perhaps the fol
lowing narration may approach more
nearly to the facts.
A room withiu the prison had been,
upon that special occasion and by high
authority, allotted to the use of Dr. Car
nell and Mr. Fiddyes, thefamoussculp
tor, for the purpose of certain investiga
tiona connected with art and science.
Tn that room Mr. Fiddyes, while wretch
ed I’oter Starke was yet swinging be
tween heaven and earth, was busily en
gaged in arranging a variety of imple
ments and materials, consisting of a
largo quantity of Plaster of Paris, two
largo pails of water, some tubs, and
other necessaries of the moulder’s art.
The room contained n large deal table,
and a wooden cross, not neatly planed
and squared at the angles, but of thick
narrow, rudely sawnoakeu plank, lixed
by throng heavy nails. And while Mr.
Fiddyes was thus occupied, the execu-
tioner entered, bearing upon his shoul
ders the body of the wretehod Peter,
which he Hung heavily upon the table.
“You are sure he is dead?” asked Mr.
Fiddyes.
“Dead as a herring,” replied the
other. “Aud just as warm aud limp as
if ho had only fainted.”
“Then go to work at once,” replied
the sculptor, as turning his back upon
the hangman, lie resumed his occupa
tion.
“work” was soon done. Peter
was stripped and nailed upon the tim
ber, which was instantly propped
against tl:e wall.
“As tine a one as ever I see,” ex
claimed the executioner, as he regarded
the defunct murderer with an expres
sion of admiration, us if at his own
handiwork, in having abruptly de
molished such a magnificent animal.,
“Drops a good bit for’ard, though.
Shall I tie him up round the waist,
sir?”
“Certainly not,” returned the sculp
tor, “Just rub him well over with this
oil, especially his head, and then you
can go. Dr. Carnell will settle with
you.”
“All right, sir.”
The fellow did as ordered, and retired
without another word, leaviug this
strange couple, the living and the dead,
in Lhut dismal chamber.
Mr. Kiddyes was a man ofstrong nerve
in such matters. lie had been too much
accustomed to taking posthumous casts
to trouble himself with any sentiment
of repugnance at his approaching task
of taking what is called a “piece-mould”
from a body. Ho emptied a number of
bags of the white powdery plaster-of-
Paris into one of the larger vessels,
poured into it a pail of water, and was
carefully stirring up the mass, when a
sound of dropping arrested his ear.
I>rip, tlrij).
“There’s something leaking,” he
muttered, as he took up a second pail,
and emptying it, again stirred the com
position.
Drip , drip, drip.
“It's strange,” he soliloquized, half
aloud. “There is no more water, aud
yet—”
Tho sound was heard again
Ho gazed at the ceiling; there was no
sigh of damp. Pie turned his eyes to
the body, and something suddenly
caused him a violent start. The mur
derer was bleeding.
The sculptor, spite of his command
over himself, turned pale. At that
moment the head of Starke moved—
clearly moved. It raised itself convul
aively for. a single moment; its eyes
rolled aud it gave vent to a subdued
moau of iutense agony. Mr. Fiddyes
fell fainting ou the floor as Dr. Carnell
entered. It needed but a glauce to tell
the doctor what had liappeued,even had
not Peterjust then given vent to another
low cry. The surgeon's measures were
soon taken* Locking the door, he bore
a chair to the wall which supported the
body of the malefactor. He drew from
his pocket a case of glittering instru
ments, and with oue of these, so small
and delicate that it scarcely seemed
larger than a needle, he rapidly, but
dexterously and firmly, touched Peter
just at the back of the neck. There was
no wound larger than the head of a
small pin, andyettheheadfellinstantly
as though the heart had been pierceu.
The doctor had divided the spinal cord,
aud Peter Starke was dead indeed.
A few minutes sufficed to recall the
sculptor to his senses. He at first gazed
wildly upon the still suspended body,
so painfully recalled to life by the rough
veue-section of the hangman and the
subsequent friction of anointing his
body to prevent the adhesion of the
plaster.
“ You need not fear now,” said Dr.
Carnell; “ I assure you lie is dead.”
“But he was alive, sbrely !”
“ Only for a moment, and thatscarce
ly to be called life—mere muscular con
traction, my dear sir, mere muscular
contraction.”
The sculptor resumed his labor. The
body was girt at various circumferences
witn fine twine, to be afterwards with
drawn through a thick coating of plas
ter, bo as to separate the various pieces
of the mould, which was at last com
pleted ; and after this Dr. Carnell skill
fully flayed the body, to enable a second,
mould to be taken of the entire figure,
showing every muscle of the outer layer.
The two moulds were thus taken. It
is difficult to conceive more ghastly ap
pearances than they presented. For
sculptor’s work they were utterly use
less ; for no artist except the most dar
ing of realists would have ventured to
indicate the horrors which they pre
sented. Fiddyes refused to receive them.
Dr. Carnell, hard and cruel as he was,
for kindness’ sake, in his profession, was
a gentle, genial father of a family of
daughters. He received the casts, and
at once consigned them to a garret, to
which he forbade access. His youngest
daughter, one unfortunate day, during
her father’s absence, was impelled by
feminine curiosity—perhaps a little in
creased by tb4 prohibition—to enter the
mysterious chamber.
Whether she imagined in the pallid
figure upon the cross a. celestial rebuke
for herdisobedience,orwhetherßhe was
overcome by the mere mortal horror of
one or both of those dreadfal casts, can
now never be known. But this is true;
she became a maniac.
The writer of this has more than once
seen (as, no doubt, have inany others)
the plaster effigies of Peter Starke, after
‘their removal from Dr. Carneil’s to a
famous studio near the Regent’s Park.
It was there that he heard whispered
the strange Btory of their origin. Sculp
tor and surgeon are now both long since
dead, and it is no longer necessary to
keep the secret of the two plaster casts.
A Night in a Storm
It was aprivate parlorofa hotel in the
Provinces. Twomensat at a well spread
breakfast table. The youDger had just
pushed back from the table with au im
patient movement.
“No,” he said, abruptly, “I cannot
eat, I cannot drink. If I believed in
presentiments I should say I felt a
warning of something disagreeable, if
not horrible.”
‘•Well, then, my dear nephew,” said
the elder, “ as you do not believe in such
things, why not make yourself com
fortable and enjoy your breakfast? You
ore not to start until to-morrow, any
way, you know.”
The youDg man arose from his seat
and walked to the window, throwing it
open and looking out into the frosty,
brilliantsunshine. Theairwasintensely
cold, and reddened his cheeks instantly.
He drew in his Uead, saying—
“ I shall start this morning. There’s
going to be a storm, and I must go.
Will you accompany me to the station ?
The train starts in an hour.”
The uncle shivered and drew h is dress
ing gown closer.
“No,” he said, “I’ll not leave the
house unless I’m obliged to. I did not
leave England to get frozen by a Cana
dian winter. I did not know you were
so sentimentally foolish. Alice will not
thank you for coming a day sooner.
Women don’t like a bridegroom around
when tho wedding preparations are
going on, no matter how much in love
they are. Take my advice, and stay
here until the time appointed for you to
start.”
Kobert Busseil, the young man ad
dressed, listened with bare civility to
his companion’s words. What was
such advice in comparison with the
urgent cries of his whole nature? He
had left Euglaud three weeks before,
to claim the woman of his choice, who
had beeu a year in Montreal, whither
she had emigrated with her parents,
carrying with her the love and promise
of one in whom she believed with utter
devotion'. '
Bussell’s uncle and adopted father
had accompanied him, and now sat
smiling at the imjmtience, the whims
of youth.
“ There is a storm lu the air in spite
of this sunlight,” Russell said, still
standing by tho window. “I should
not enjoy being blockaded in by snow
on my journey.”
“Probably not; but you might as
well expect it in this climate.”
“Well, I shall tans Alice back to
England as soon as possible,” Bussell
said, with hishandon the door. “Good
bye, uncle, then good-bye.”
Russell was soon speeding from the
town, his eyes looking eagerly forward
over the vast stretches of snow as if he
would outstrip even the steam which
bore him.
lie was not half through his journey
by rail, when from the west, where it
had lingered throughout the sunny
morning, rose tho filmy white veil that
is the herald of snow. Weatherwise
people looked out of the car windows
and shook theirheads, saying—
“ This will be a hard one. It's just a
year ago since the horrible storm that
blockaded in this train.”
Bussell, looking, felt his face grow
pallid in spite of his hopes, liis youth
ful energy.
He did not fear the storm while on the
cars; he knew they would get to their
destination before the Btorm would be
sufficiently advanced to retard them
much. But he remembered the twenty
miles he must go in a cutter after the
last station, for Alice waited him at the
residence of a relative beyond Montreal.
Her aunt had persuaded her to have the
wedding there, where wealth couid give
its glow to the ceremony, and what girl
could resist such an invitation.
“If she were only in Montreal! ” mur
mured Bussell, and the first few flakes
began to drift slowly downward.
Soon the air was filled with fine sharp
particles. It grew colder instead of
warmer, or apparently so, for the wind
rose and whirled the snow fiercely.
It had snowed two hours when Bus
sell alighted at the station in Montreal.
It was already dark,save that thegloom
was mitigated by a full moon.
He was half benumbed by cold and
sitting so long, but he could not wait.
Beason told him that he was a day early,
and might easily stay in the city until
to-morrow; but some feverish, morbid
haste urged him on—it was impossible
for him to rest quiet a moment.
He stood a few moments by the bright
fire in the waiting room. Then he de
cided to go to the house occupied by
Alice’s parents.
Arrived at tho house he learned with
dismay that Alice had left two or three
hours previous. Oppressed With fear
ful forebodings he hurried on, taking
the road which his servant supposed her
driver had selected. As he emerged into
the open country the runners of the cut*
tersank deep into the snow. The horses
struggled desperately through the drifts,
while the blinding storm and benumb
ing cold almost overpowered him. To
arouse himself from the lethargy which
he felt was the precursor of death, he
stepped outof the sleigh and plodded on
beside it. For hours it seemed to him.
he traveled, alternately walking ami
riding, the animals he drove being al
most exhausted.
Suddenly, with a snort of surprise or
alarm, his horses stopped and threw up
their heads, their eyes starting in their
sockets at something indistinct In the
gloom ahead.
There is something infecting iu the
alarm of an animal, and Bussell felthis
cheeks pale as he moved slowly for
ward, leaving thehorsesstandingthere.
A shudder like the first chill of an
impending doom, shook tho young man
as he came upon a cutter overturned in
the snow. He was close to it before he
could make out what it was. There
we»e ao horses attached —that he taw
at ft glance—but the tugs cut short off,
were fastened there. The snow b*d
blown away from one side of the sleigh
while the other side was deeply imbed
ded. He leaped upon the runner, and
hurriedly pulled the buffalo robes away;
a fear came upon him such as he had
never known before.
At last, it seemed to him so long,
though itwas hardlyamoment—in that
snowy moonshine he saw the pallid face
of a woman lying motionless among her
furs.
With a suppressed cry he lifted that
beautiful form to his shoulder, and sat
down on the cutter, bending his lips to
the cold ones that could not respond to
fils caress. And yet she was not dead
—a faint breath just sighed across his
cheek.
Was it thus he had thought to greet
his promised wife ? He could not think
—he knew nothing but that he had
found Alice —and his whole being rose
to the resolve that he would save her—
that neither snow nor ice nor cold
should take her from him. She was
his, and he claimed her despite every
thing.
But he could not linger there; he
must be moving on, though ever so
slowly. He bore his burden to his own
cutter; taking with him the furs that
could not save her after that fearful
sleep had begun. His horses walked on.
again—they needed no guiding—they
could find their way better than man
could direct.
Anythingbutintenselove would have
despaired in that tempest pf snow, with
that pitiless wind freezing across the
earth, raising no glow on the blue white
face against his own.
He roughly chafed with buow her
hands and face; but he soon saw that
severer measures must be tried: that
the lethargy was too deep. She dimly
felt the fierce fridtion, for Bhe moaned
and seemed to shrink from it—a word
less request to be left alone.
Russell had forgotten the cold for
himself, the snow swept by him un
heeded. Again he lifted her in his arms
and stepped out into the snow, letting,
her stand beside him, then trying to
make her fight her way on, knowing
that if she could once be roused she was
saved.
At first she fell down helplessly, Bank
inanimately with no wish to stir. But
in a moment his ceaseless efforts had
some effect, and he could compel her
her muscles slightly, though her
head drooped in an unknowing stupor.
Bussell felt that he had never suffered
before. He thought the pain and sor
rows of all his life were crowded into
that one Dight, By slow degrees, al
most hopelessly slow, consciousness and
horrible suffering returned.
His face was pale and sick, os he knew
the agonies she endured. But pain was
the signal of life, and not now would he 1
despair. I
At last she looked at him with recog-!
nizing eyes, and when everything else I
had failed, love reached the fountain of I
crimson, and sent a wave of its fed to |
her face. j
Week, suffering, she reclined upon I
his arm, unable to move or to speak. I
Could he keep the li/e he had saved,
through a much louger journey ? |
When he left the city there were a 1
few houses scattered by the roadside for I
two or three miles. The dim glimmer j,
of their lights he had seen; but since
then he had noticed nothing—it was a
waste through which he was riding,
with no lamp of hope held out to him.
Aud the delicate gill, but half resusci
tated, he thought—oh, how tiany miles
before safety ?
An half hour passed, and through
Bussell’s brave soul had already darted i
the first doubt. Human endurance
could not last forever, and it was more
than he could do to preserve the feeble
life he had recalled. In another half
hour ice and cold might conquer him.
He would die with her; he could not
live when that dear face was beneath
the sod.
A quarter of a mile further on, and
he saw through the storm a dark object
by the road side. It was a building of
some kind, and it could shelter them.
He turned his horses’ heads that way,
aud plunged through the snow to the
door. There was no door. It was a dis
mantled log hut, with its doorgone, aud
its oue little wiudow broken out. But
it was better than the fury without, aud
in another five minutes Alice was shel
tered from the wind. With painful but
patient fumbliuglie succeeded in fast
ening the buffalo skin in front of the
doorway, thus forming an insufficient
barrier. Then he drew from liis pocket
his cigar case snd his matches, and
lighting one of the latter, looked eager
ly round the room, in the flickering
light. That glance told him that there
was an immense fireplace ut one side
of the hut, and a divine light streamed
into his soul, at the sight.
As his horses had dragged the cutter
to the house, the runner had grated
over the top raii of a fence, and the
unseen post had nearly upset the light
cutter.
The white-fingered, fair-faced Eng
lishman worked with a power that was
moreiike fury, and when at lasta ruddy
blaze ilew up the broad chimuey, tears
of joy actually started from his eyes.
Exhausted, happy, he knelt at the feet
of Alice, aud hid his face in her hands.
With that reviving warmth came a
little of strength to her weary coul. She
leaned forward, a smile upon her lips,
and in her eyes, and murmured—
“lt was heaven itself who sent you
here, Robert.”
Two hours later, a gray dawn was
struggling through the clouds; a broad
strip of blue encircled the west; the
wind moaned in lower tones. The old
hut was golden with the wood fire—it
threw its radiance over the two horses
that had been led in, and stood wild
aud grateful in a corner, their eyes
staring at the fire.
Renovated, though weak, with a
happiness beyond words,warm in heart,
Alice Malcolm greeted her wedding
day. She had told her story to Robert
—the story of her desertion in the snow.
As the storm on more furiously,
her driver, whom she believed trust
worthy, aufiounced liis intention of
returning. She had discovered that he
was in a »emi-intoxicated state, but she
refused toreturn, and.be would notfgo a
8 step farther, and had cut the traces
and mounting one of tho horses left her
to her fate.
She did not know when she spoke,
that a mile back, within a few miles of
the city, he lay frozen to death, the ed
dying snow drifting over his body. He
had found a fate, which his mistress bad
escaped.
Backward, through a vista of happy
years, looked Russ&ll and his wife to
that night of horror in Canada, when
peril revealed to them the full depth of
their devotion—the infinitude of their
love.
Seals aitd Sea lions—Their Thyslology
and Topology.
•Seals and sea lions flock together in
the winter time and go South, and in
the summer north, The seal Jives upon
sea cabbage. During the spring, from
the 15th of April, they settle in myriads
In Behrings, Copper, Blijnee, Andrea
novki, Fox, St. Paul’s and St. George’s
Islands. The male seal, or sekacb, in
the springguards more than two hun
dred females. Thesekach isvery large,
and is then about five years old. It has
great influence over the herd of females.
It seeks out the highest rock on the
coast, where it can rest or play. We ask
traders why they have gone north to
kill these animals. Was it because they
were so troublesome that they disturbed
the peace of San Francisco, ur for the
purpose of exterminating them? The
reply has been given us, “only for com-
merce.” If then for commerce, we will
write from a commercial standpoint.
A trained and skillful hunter will
never kill the sekach while it is on the
rocks, because they know that it would
drive away the seals. If thesekach dies
a natural death, or in war, which often
prevails among these animals, it makes
no impression upon the seals, unless
they smell their own blood, when they
become frightened and plunge again
into the sea.
Seals give birth to young in the month
of September, and the rocks are then
covered with the pups. They never
have more tbau t*vo in a litter. Their
voices resemble the bleating of young
lambs. They are suckled by the mother
until they are able to go into the water,
when they are required to look out for
themselves. For economical reasons
these animals should not be molested
until the month of September. If the
breeding females are driven away, they
will lose their pups. The old males
should be killed in September, for their
oil is more valuable than their fur. It
is worth 75 cents pergalldn. The meat
is salted and eaten by the inhabitants
of the different islands. The bones are
also put to good use.
The Americans trading in Alaska last
summer did not pay any attention to
the sea oil. They ail went after furs.
The oil of 400,000 seals was thrown into
the stream. An individual who was
employed last summer at St. Paul’s
Island, spoke of the many thousands of
dollars thrown into the stream. It is
the best of oil for machinery and lamps.
Congress maderegulations to protect the
seals without knowing the habits or
physiology of this animal. All its atten
tion has been paid to St. Paul's and St.
George’s Islands. In this bill of pro
tection no mention is made of the other
islands, such as Blijnee, Andreanovki
and Fox Islands. Congress has never
paid any attention to these islands, and
greedy traders will exterminate the
whole race of these animals, which are
in thousands from Unalashka to Attou,
with firearms or any weapon that they
have. There has never been any im
provement made in seal hunting. Con
gress would like to protect the seal in
the same manner that the old Busso-
American company did, which was the
most ignorant and conservative con
ceivable.
After our investigation, we give such
knowledge as we possess about the man
ner in which this animal is killed. Seal
go up on the beach in foggy weather or
in in the evening. They are so fat that
on hot days they prefer the water.
After sunset the Aleuts drive them into
the mountains; then they separate the
females and young ones from the males,
and drive the other portion back into
the sea. The male seal should be killed
when it Is one year old, and in the
months of September and October, for
their fur is very valuable in these two
months and at that period of their life.
One firmlastßummerhad 40,000 females
one year old killed in August and Sep
tember, for they were aware that the fur
was very valuable at that time. After
they are three years old their fur is not so
valuable.. Afterthe seal is skinned the
fat should be carefully taken from the
skin, then salted and put into barrels.
To preserve one Bea seal skin it takes
eight pounds of salt. Ho more should
be killed than can be prepared in one
day, because the fat eats up the fur.
: j The dxeesiug of the seal is done alto
;: getherin England. If it is not carefully
. j prepared, when passing the tropics the
• i fat destroys the fur. The seals, at the
■ j end of October and the early part of
j November, emigrate to thesouihwestor
!to the Japanese Islands, They are not
I afraid of the ice, hut prefer a milder cli
' mate in the winter season. We are
■ certain, from some stated facts, that they
make this place their abode during the
winter. The Japanese use their skins
for winter garments.
The sea lion is the size of a seal, and
1 is similar to the seal in its habits. Shoot
l ing is the manner in which they are
! killed, Great attention must be paid in
I the killing of the sea lion, as oue spent
ball will frighten the whole herd into
I the sea. The meat is much liked by the
I natives. The fat gives a good oil and
l the hide is valuable aud used for many
I purposes. The natives of Alaska use
the hide to make darkes or boats for
I their own use. Many beautiful and
' valuable fur-bearing animals living in
} the water aud ou the land, are found at
/>t. Lawrence and St. Matthew’s Islands.
We have seen some skins from St. Law
rence as large as the leopard, and of the
same form, spotted black aud white, and
as soft as the sable. There are in the
northern regions numerous species of
fur-bearing animals which live ou land '
and water —sea lion, sea bear, sea ele* ,
phant, sea mink, bearded seal, crested <
seal, etc. ]
People Who Make Society Disagreeable.
Let us see who are the people who
make society disagreeable.
First, ihero are managing people.—
The managing people are of three kinds.
They are either imperious persons, or
very good-natured persons, or very con
ceited persons. And sometimes the
three motives which cause a man or
woman to be troublesomely managing
are combined in one and the same per
son.
Now, the objection which most people
have to being managed is, that they
have an unconquerable wish to manage
for themselves?
But duother aud a very po
tent cause why people often reject the
most excellent proposals for being man
aged. It is, that the managing persou
does not know somo secret, but very
strong motive of the persou to be man
aged ; and therefore all the manager’s
wise suggestions are beside the mark.
Let us take a familiar instauce which
might occur in real life. There is a
young roan (we will call him Mr.
Amana) in the same house with one of
the tribe of managers. Mr. Amans is
asksd by what train he is returning to
London, and he says by the 10 o’clock
train. This i 9 in the smoking-room,
after the ladies have gone to bed. Up
jumps the manager, whips out his
“Bradshaw,” and tells Mr. Amans that
it is positive insanity not to go by the
o o'clock trftin. “If you,go by the 10
o’clock train, a very slow train, you
will not get into town tiil 4 o’clock in
the morning—a most uncomfortable
time ; whereas, if you go by the 9, you
will be in by 12 at night, and have a
good night’s rest. Do let me order the
carriage for half-past 8 o’clock!” The
young man looks very sheepish, stam
mers out some foolish objection to the
it o’clock train, but holds his ground,
and will not be managed. And why?
Mr. Amans thought that there was a
faint return on the part of Miss Amata
to the warm pressure of his hand when
he bade her good-niaht that .evening;
and he would lose fifty nights’ rest,
aud rightly too, in order to ascertain
whether that faint return of pressure
will be repeated, or, perhaps, increased,
on the ensuing morning. Now, the
family breakfast is not until U o'clock.
The above is an instance of a trivial
and familiar nature ; but the same thiug
runs through life. When the manager
thinks any of us unreasonable, he may
reliect that perhaps he does not know
all the motives which, however un
reasonable, determine us to a course of
action contrary to that which he so ably
recommends.
Then there is the class of people
whom I venture to call the observan
tiues. They must make remarks about
everything ; and there are a great many
things in this life which had better pass
without any remark.
Then there are the objective people.
Let any one say anything, however
wise or foolish, important or unimpor
tant, they must instantly take an ob
jection. They really do not mean to
abide by their objection ; but they must
take it. Nothing should be done with
out being well argued over; and it is
their business to see that objection is
made to whatever is proposed.
Then there-are the explanative peo
ple. Now, even the cleverest man, aud
the most adroit talker, utters many sen
tences which aTe needless. You see at
once what he is going to say. But the
explanative person will not let you off
one single jot of explanation. His talk
is like the writing of a stupid book for
children.
Then there is the discursive talker.
You are discussing the effect of the large
importations of gold from Australia.
He unfortunately enters into the dis
cussion, and in a short time you are
discussing the mode of rearing pineap
ples. This kind of man seems to be sent
into the world to destroy everything
like good conversation.
Making a Convert,
Jack Taffrail had been a sailor for
twenty years. Being very saving and
economical, so unusual with the craft,
he was at last possessed of a handsome
amount of money; and then he resolved
to settle oil shore and get married.
Having acquired the reputation of a
quiet and peaceable neighbor, the min
ister of the parish took a decided interest
in his welfare. He therefore called ou
Jack every Sunday, for several weeks,
to induce himtogotochurch. “ What’a
the use of my going there now,” asked
Jack, “when I wasn’t there but once
since I was a boy ? ” “ Where do you
expect to go to when you die?” asked
the minister. “O, I’Jl rough it out, as
I have always done; I’ve never done
any harm.” “That is not enough,”
replied the minister; and, in continua
tion, asked. “Haveyou ever done any
good?” “ Yes, Kir, i have; a very good
thing I did once.” “ What was that? ”
“I made a conveit of a Jew to the
Christian faith.” “ I hardly think you
have enough of learning and powers of
argument to accomplishsuch a difficult
task.” “O, it wasn’t by lamin’ I did
it, but by a way of my own.” “ Well,
I should like to hear how you managed
that.” “Please sit down, then, and I
will tell you the whole yarn.” The
minister having been seated, Jack com
menced his story thus : “One day when
I was on the deck of my ship, in Ports
mouth harbor, I heard a splash in the
water, and on looking overboard, whom
did I see floundering there but Ikey
Johnson, a clothes-dealer. O, Sir, I
knew him well, for several times he shut
up my eye in buying slops from him. I
thought at first to let him drown, but a
feelin’ I had for his soul made me
change my mind. So with my hand
over hand by the cable, J. soon grabbed
him by the hair, and held his head
above the water. “ Will you be aChris
tian?” says I. “No; I can’t be a
Christian, but save me, and I’ll give
you ten pound.” “I don’t want your
money,” says I; and so I dived him
again, holding him fast all the time.
Presently I let him up, and I axes him
agin, “ Will you be a Christian,” says I.
“ No, I can’t be a Christian,” says he ;
“ but save me, and I’ll give you a hun
dred pound,” “Blast your money,”
says I • and I dived him a second time.
Well, Sir, when I let him up that time,
he looked almost like a drowned rat.
“ Now, this is the third and last time of
axin’ • will you be a Christian? ” says
I. “I will,” says he. “Then, blast
your eyes, die in the. Christian faith! ”
So I let him down, and he never came
up again.” The minister thought it
was a peculiar mode of making a con
vert.
Tom Corwin, the celebrated Ohio
lawyer and politician, was notorious for
impartially borrowing money from
every one of his friends, and seldom
paying them. Having been fined $3O
by a Judge one day for disorderly be
havior in court, Tom looked all around
the court room, and then addressed the
Judge: “May it please your honor, I
see no one present of whom I can bor
row $3O witn which to pay the fine just
inflicted on me, but you yourself. Will
you be kind enough to lend the
amount?” The Judge, foreseeing the
probable result of making the loan re
quested, addressed, his reply to the
Clerk: “ You may remit that fine, Mr.
Clerk. The State of Ohio can better
afford to lose $3O than! can.”
No Beam Anjwhere.
No beaux! Absolutely no beaux''-... •> _ •
Well yminir , fr Th " Democratic Member. Sn.talned by
YYeiiyouDg ladles, stop-aml consider, if, tbe People-Grand Popular Demon*
alter all, you yourself have not pro- : aeration at JBvanavlll©-»Ani£x«Govenjor
noUDCed thesentenci of banishment Abandons anil Denounces theHadlcals
“We? We banish them? . „
clous! Is it not for them we have de- • foll ” wln S lo lh « Cincinnati
j
’_ I ( J 3^ • er f. we not for weeks, ; had resigned their seats as the only means
oetore w© cam© to these odious moun- ! of defeating negro suffrage, is peculiarly
taips, where men are as scarce as French ! interesting Just at this time:
hair dressers, closeted with our dress- : Evansville, March 9,1869.
makers and milliners to produce these ' The reception of Hons; Daniel Morgan,
bewitching ‘ suits/ long and short, for ! James F. welborn and Leroy Calvert, our
morning and evening, out-door and in- Senator and Representatives in the Indiana
door wear? Have we not cool dresses | who resigned their seats to
and vwarm dresses; dresses for rain 1 P re vent the Negro Suffrage Amendment
dresses for sunshine, dresses for neutral i iT n H n n e f ° g *K dopted b 7 rndi * na ’ waa an
weather, with ribbons, gloves, sashes !1. *“, °. b “ e B™<lenien of which any
parasols, hats and fciSo ‘ match, J halfpast
the minuest shade . lof v hom should eight o’clock, and were met at the depot by
We take all that trouble but for the : thousands of democrats and anti-negro re
beaux. And how are we responsible publicans, who fairly split their thronta
for their diagustiug absence?" shouting welcome to their faithful public
Listen, my dears, for in that which a ‘“ rT !» u s- As the train moved intothedepot
you have just said lies your offence ! , democratic gun squad fired a national
Cau damsels thus arrayed walk iu the f. te ' ■ l 6? ba, ? J B,n,ek U P. “See, the
woods, climb the mountains (except in Lo “‘l nerlI 'g Hero Comes."
noetn- ”! Can thev- tntl pC 1 A procession was at once formed, headed
Knnrv mild‘ e ? Q or : : by the band and the carriages conveying
w . i ,s! lout mortal fhe resigned members, which moved rapid?
terror of periling their millinery? Must :ly to the Court House, where the large
tney not, therefore, “ride,” morning, < Court room was already densely packed
afternoon and evening, everywhere, to ! witij human beings. Not one out of five
the delectation of the stable keepers, could K ain admission. In the Court room
and theconsequent pecuniary depletion ?, was organized and speeches de
of the “beaux?" These beaux, whose J"? red ty Senator Morgan and Represen
fathers may be rich, but whose eons ~e ~? rn ' giviD S an account of their
el^so aI m 00 f r ?
mer holiday, and who do not desire to and nominating them for re-election which
pour it all into the pockets of the stable- were adopted by a rising vote, loud’shouts
keeper ; these beaux, who can get vastly approbation and waiving of hats by the
more fuu out of their purses, and make thousands in attendance,
them last longer, with a party of “the ~ Paris c. Dunning, one of
fellows”—this is the reason that, with !h!<!? 0 , st ef f ecllye Republican speakers of
rare excentions vnn hnv© tn tiimxxr .he State, who canvassed half the Stale, last
,o& lo on l^uT
own sex, when you play croquet, or sit rum, he proceeded for an hour and a half
on the piazza, dreamingot the “coming to make one of his most telling speeches,
than. which was applauded by-ahoulsofapprov-
My dears, ho ‘ >U fr * -• -* ■ - —nor Dp
->iy dears, lie won't come ! He knows
too muck. He lias seen his sister's
milliner ami mautuamaker bills, and
heard the fumily discussion thereon ;
and though he acknowledges your fas*
ciuatfona even through all the absurd
toggery you are doomed by fashion’s
slavery to have and to Wfear. he has yet
to make the fortune to enaoie him to
foot his angel’s bills. So he runs away
from you, discreetly; runs oil' iishing,
or gunning with the “fellows,” and,
wiser than you, comes home brown,
hale and hearty for the winter months,
Instead of perspiring at your side in
tight yellow kids.
Do you begin to understand? Mow,
my dears, if you have been ushered into
the world in coach and six, till your
feet and hands have become paralyzed
for want of use, that is your misfortune,
aud your fault. Because that necessi
tates a rich husband. Aud as there are
very few rich young husbands, you will
have to bid good bye to your girlish
ideal, and marry the bald-headed, gouty
Mr. Smith, who was born at the same
time as your own father. This, my
dears, you will have to do, or face your
nightmare, single blessedness.
1 have looked at you playing croquet,
without a coat tail among you ; I have
seen you driving yourself out in your
pretty little phaetons; and thought you
put'a brave face on it. I know very well
whatisgoiDg ou under that gay little
sash of yours; and I think it is a pity
that you should have been brought up
to many artificial wants, that your
heart must go hungry in life’s spring
time because of them.
My dears, I never lacked beaux at
your age. But a walk in the woods, or
in the city either, involved no expense
to my beaux. I coufd climb a lence,
where there was no gate, or where there
was either; l was not afraid of dew or
rain, because my dress was simple. My
gifts were not diamonds, blit flowers, or
books. My mother would not have al
lowed me to ride with gentlemen, had
they asked. When they came to spend
the evening, our tray of refreshments
did not involve a “ .French cook.”
So you see, my dear, though I had no
silk dresses, I had plenty of beaux, and
a gay heart; and I enjoyed a sail with
an old sun-bonnet over my curia, or a
moonlight ramble with a merry party, ;
much betterthanyoudo“theGerman;”
and half an hour was sufficient warning !
for me to “ dress ” for any kind of party
—in doors or out—because, unlike you,
I was not bothered to choose from twen* i
ty dresses which to wear; and I will 1
give you leave to ask any of mybeaux, ;
who are now grandfathers, if I was not !
able at that time to settle (heir accounts! |
And it is because I had such a good time ;
that I feel vexed that your youth and I
prettiness should so often go a-begging j
—through no fault of yours; and you I
may show this to your mothers, and tell 1
them I say so. i
An Ancient Battle,
Free from the smoke of a modern en
gagement, a Hellenic battle must have
been a gallant sight. In purple tunics
and burnished armor, the men stood
ten, fifteen and twenty deep, beneath a
glittering forest of spear heads. Those
who were well to do no lack of gold
about their greaves and breastplates,
and were dandified in plumes and
sword-belts; while even the poorest
citizen wore a helmet fashioned by the
exquisite taste of a Greek artificer. It
must have been a trial of the nerves of
bravest to stand biting his moustache,
humming a bar of the Ptean which he
was to sing within the next quarter of
an hour; wondering whether his
widow would marry again ; hoping that
the cobbler on his right might not turn
tail, or tho teacher of gymastics on his
left shove him out of the line; dimly
couscious meanwhile that his colonel
was exhorting him in a series of well
tuned periods to bethink himself of
the tomb which covered those who
died in ThermopyHe, and the trophy
which stood on the beach at Arte
misium. And then the signal-trumpet
sounded, and the music struck up, and
the whole army moved forward, steadily
at first, but breaking into a run when
only a few hundred yards sepurated the
approaching lines. And, as the distance
between them grew shorter, and the
tramp of the enemy mingled with their
own, the front rank men had just time
to try and imagine that the countenance
ofthepeopleopposite looked like flinch
ing, and that the notes of their war
chant had begun to falter, and the next
second there would be a crash of pikes,
and a grating of bucklers, and a clutch
ing of beards; and those who would
fain be home again were pushed on by
the mass behind, excited at hearing
others fighting, and with no steel athis
own throat; and, after five minutes of
thrusting and shooting, and fierce
strainingof foot,and knee and shoulder,
the less determined or the worse dis
ciplined of the two hosts would learn,
by more cruel experience, theold lesson,
that life as well as honor is for those who
retain their selfrespect, and their
shields.
Shall Me Grow Tea?
Why not? asks the Tribune— “ It is an
agricultural product, of a climate like a
wide beltof our country; and we already
know that it will flourish on our soil.
Why should we persist in going around
the world for what might as well be
grown at our doors? The Chinese take
very little of us but silver and gold, and
these we cannot produce so fast as we
need them to redress the balance of trade,
otherwise heavily against it. It isaiot
probable that the Chinese or Japanese
tea-grower receives one-fourth the price
that our tea drinkers pay for his herb ;
let us grow for ourselves, and labor will
then receive seventy-five instead of
tweaty-five per cent, of the cost of its
product to the consumer.”
Harrisburg Postmaster.
The appointment of Longstreet aa sur
veyor of the port of New Orleans bas been
rapidly followed by that of George Bergner
for postmaster at Harrisbnrg. When snch
men go into office there is no room for
heroes like General Joe.Knipe. Longstreet
did great harm to the country during the
war by slaying its defenders, and ho should
be rewarded. Bergner bas grown rich at
the public crib, and his greedy cry for more
is just answered by a paternal government.
General Knipe is a battered hero, who
fought as valiantly and skillfully as ever
did General Grant. His body is covered
•with honorable wounds. He is the best
soldier that Dauphin county sent Jinto the
army from the beginning to the end of the
straggle, and this is said in no disparage
ment of the other brave sons of the couDty
who gallantly rushed to the field. They
will cheerfully re-echo the sentiment. Gen
eral Knipe never traded in the distresses of
his country. He is generous, brave and
honest. His hands are unstained with a
single dishonorable or unmanly act. A
loyal government now turns him out of the
office which he has so faithfully filled, to
make place for Bergner. Thus do the truly
101 l reward the services of the bravo '.—Har
risburg Patriot.
XEGIIO SUFFRAGE IST ISDIASA.
. from boginning to end. Governor Run
ning was withering in his denunciation of
negro suffrage, und announced his cordial
support of thy resigned members to fill their
vacant places. Ho nlsopassed a high eulo
gium upon Hon James Huge.*,of Blooming
ton, and James M. Mitchell, ol Morgan
county, the only Republicans in the Legis
lature who came out in opposition to the
amendment.
While these proceedings were going on In
Hie court house, an immense out door meet
ing wax being held in the streets, in spite of
the ruin, which poured down in torrents.
This meeting was also addressed by Sena
tor Morgan, \Yllliam Welborn, and several
Pemocratlc speakers.
The meetings adjourned at midnight with
romiug cheers for the resigned members,
Forrest’s Views Kespecttng the Negroes,
[Correspondence of tbo Ixiuisvllle Courier-
Journal.j
Nashville, Murch 9.— A few days ago
General Forrest and Major Minor Merri
wethor, engineer of tbo luvoes on the Mis
sissippi, were my companions part of the
way irom New Orleans. As wo passed
through boauiiltil tracts of country lying
wuste, I asked General Forrest bow it could
ever lie repopulaU-d.
“With negroes,” was his reply; “they
are tho best laborers w r e have ever had in
the South. Those among us behaved dur
ing the war iu such a xnanuer that I shall
always respect them for it, and I would net
have one of mine bade, nor have them en
slaved if I could. My house servants,”
continued he, “ are with mo yet in Mem
phis, and never would leave me.”
“ But,” said I, “you have bad the name
of being hard on that * peculiar’—”
.“It is not true,” said he with energy; “ I
have always felt kindly towards them, and
.always treated them kindly. Kven the
‘Fort Pillow nmsucre’ wus investigated, and
tbo Federal officers, to a man, stated that I
was not to blatno. The fort never hauled
down the llag ; I cut it down with iny own
hands, anil did all I could to stop the fir
ing.” “ But how, General,” continued I,
“are you to repopulato with negroes?”
“ Got them from Africa,” was his startling
reply ; “ tbey'il improve after getting here,
nre the most imitative creatures in the
world, and if you put them in squads
of ten, with one experienced loader in
each squud, they will soon revive our
country. I want Xorthern men to
come in here, and would protect any
man who comes to build up tho country
with my life; but they won’t come; Europe
ans won’t come ; then, I say, let’s get Afri
cans. By pursuing a liberal policy to them
we can Denefit them and they us. The
prisouers taken in war over there can all be
turned over to us, and emigrate and be
1 reed men hero. “I bad an interest,” con
tinued he. “m the Wanderer, and we bought ,
over 400; only six per cent. died. They
were very fond of grasshoppers and bugs,
l-ut I taught them to eat cooked meat, and
they were ns good niggers as any 1 ever
had. "W hen prejudice gets over, our Gov
ernment will foster this scheme ; there is no
need of a war of races. I want to see tho
whole country prosper. It’s my country,
and I don’t intend to give it up as long as
I can do anything to build it up. I am an
Auaericuu, und from the day 1 surrendered
have been for tho United States.”
Farm Stock In tbe United States.
We learn from the report of the Depart
ment of Agriculture that horses huve in
creased slightly in most of the Western and
Southern States, but very little in the Mid
dle and Eastern—not enough to keep pace
with the increase nf population in the At
lantic sea-bound States. Nebraska, Kan
sas, Missouri, lowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin
ami the Pacific coast States exhibit the lar
gest increase. The numbers are, however,
not equal to the demand, as is shown by the
general though small advance in prices.
Tho iucrease of mutes is also slow, and tho
range of prices appears to bo higher than
last year.
The returns of oxen and other cattle show
a positive decrease in Now Jersey, Mary
land, North Carolina, Florida, Texas, Ken
tucky, Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, the dim
inution amounting to five per cent, in the
latter Stale. Iu milch cows a reduction is
reported in Texas, Ohio and Illinois, and
some of the Southern States. A general in
crease in prices of cattle is reported.
The reduction in tho number of sheep ap
pears to be general, tho only exceptions be
ing Rhode Island, Tennessee, Missouri,
Minnesota, Kansas and the Pacific States.
The loss cannot be less than' 10 per cent.
In some States it is placed at 1.1 or more.
The prfees of sheep have declined slightly
in certain sections and advanced in others.
In Connecticut ami in our own State, where
unusual attention has been given to mutton
breeds, prices huve been fully maintained.
In districts where the Merinoatock monop
olizes sheep walks, the decline is general
aud in some sections heavy.
The report states, moreover, that the re
turns of swine mark a very decided reduc
tion in numbers of fattening hogs, amount
ing tn U> per cent in a large portion of the
Ohio Valley. Tho prices are largely in
creased in many Slates— ‘2T> or 30 per cent.,
ami not unfrequently f,O or 0U per cent.—
Newark (N. J.) Advertiser.
Cruelty to AulinnlN.
Tiie State Legislature lias passed an ml
ditionul act for the prevention ol cruelty to
animals. This act, which extends over the
whole State, provides fortko punishmontof
any person who shail wantonly or cruelly
ill-treat, overload, beat or otherwise abuse
any animal, whether belonging to himself
or to another, or who shall in any way be
concerned in fighting or baiting uny bull,
beur, dog, cock or other creature. The
abandonment in any public place of any
maimed, sick infirm or disabled creature is
also to be punished. Tho penalty for diso
beying the law is for the first offionce a fine
not less than ten nor more than twenty dol
lars, and lor the second, and every subse
qucntoflence.uot less than twenty’nor more
than fifty dollars. The informer is made a
competent witness, and receives one-half of
tbe fine, and tho county where the offence
may bo committed the other half. The pro
ceedings are summary, and tbe offender,in
default of payment of tho line and costs,
can be committed to tbo couuty prison un
til discharged by due course of law, which
amounts to tho three months ruquired un
der the Insolvent laws. When the tine ex
ceeds ten dollars, tho defendant may appeal
to the Conrt of Quarter Sessions, where the
offeuce is to be prosecuted as a misdemean
or. In aggravated cases, the defendant
may be bound over for trial at the Quarter
Sessions, where, on conviction, he is liable
to a fine not exceeding two hundred oollars,
or to an imprisonment not exceeding one
year, or to both. The necessary expenses
of taking charge of animals transpoited in
au inhuman manner, or of removing and
destroyingdiaabled creatures, can be recov
ered from tbe owner at a suit at law.—Phil
adelphia Ledger.
A Warning to Ladled.
Lady visitors to Now York, espec ally
those trom the country, are cautioned by
the journals of that city against entering
the showy-lookiDg shops of Broadway
which proteas to sell fancy goods at ridicu
lously low prices. A highly reapectablo
lady from Jersey City was recently charged
by tho proprietor of one of these establish
ments with being a shoplifter, and was hur
ried off do prison and kept thero for two
nights, euery obstacle possible bging placed
in the way of her communicating with her
friends.
The Gettysburg National Monument.
Senator Merton, of Indiana, bas accepted
the invitation of the Board of Commission
era of tbe Gettysburg National Cemetery to
deliver the address on tho first oi July next,
on tbe occasion of the dedication of the
monument, which will bo completed by
that time. An original poem will be deliv
ered by Bayard Taylor, and the Kev. Henry
Ward Beecher will perform the duties of
chaplain.
jonar c.hrechinbiuge athiuhe.
His Reception ou tho Bond-Serenade »uil
Speech.
Lexington, Ky., (March V) despatch to Cincln’
nail Commercial.
Mr. John C. Breckinridge comes buck to
Kentucky a man of commanding stature,
with a face that women call handsome and
men intellectual and strong, with th« same
eagle eye that your readers have seen in
pictures of him as a Confederate Major-
General. His cheeks are square froqi the
cheek bones down; complexfou ruddy and
almost llorid ; mustache and chopped goalee
of mixed gray and sandy ; forehead sea tiled
with lines of thought and care, and hair
very gray, with much more of gray than
any of us remember in our recollection oi
hiurln his commanding personal appear
ance, his stature of near six feet, he reminds
us of the John C. Breckinridge of militury
fume. But iu place of tho gray, guld aud
silver of his warlike days ho wears a plain
dark suit of civilian’s efotbes, ntnl iu all his
foreigu experience ho has not forgotten the
clouk that Keutuckians love iu common
with Spaniards.
General Breckinridge left f\*vington this
afternoon, at two o'clock, 'wkh us much
privacy as possible. I understand Unit Mr.
Wash. McLean, of the Enquirer, aecnm
pnnied hitn to tho tinin, after having becu
his host in Cincinnati, lie had hoped to
avoid recognition, in a great measure, ami
to this end word had been given out that lu*
bad already passed down, and that ho bad
gone by tho way of Louisville. All along
the line of the road from Covington to Lex
ington the stations had been visited by anx
ious and expectant crowds for two daj s,
all desirous of catching a glimpse of the
man who, as a Winchester lawyer said to
| mo to day, “ was more loved by Kentuck
| ians than any living man."
i The General, in company wah his wife,
occupied seats iu the rear.car. and at all the
small stations between (’ineiunatt and
Cynthiuna those who had waited and watch
ed for him gathered around tln* ear and
forced him to exchange a few words with
them. At Cynthiana, tho first important
stopping place, the crowd cheered tmn and
demanded his nppcaraucc on tho rear plat- :
form. Said one of the observers, "tied!
bless him; ho looks better than when wo
fought together." Crowds made their way I
into tho car ami took him by the hand. To j
all he was the urbane, gentlemanly Mri el<- (
inridge of old, but to all ho said “’Gentle- |
men, you must excuse mu for being quiet; j
1 nui here l>y permission, aud it is my re ,
quest that 1 be allowed to pa-s quietly.” 1
But ho had a kind word from tho heart lor
many an old acquaintance, und more U an
once his eyo tilled as old times forced thetn
solvos upon his mind. Said lie, “I ain
glad to get buck to my home once more.
It is nearly eight years since I was hero.’’
When asked if tho old scenes were familiar
to him, he answered “ Yes,’’ and then
dived with some personal friends Into many
reminiscences ot the past, and many per
sonal recollections of old associations.
At Paris the demonstration exceeded
oven that at Cynthiana. Despite the min
there was a lurge crowd on the platform
and many calls for his appearance. After
shaking hands at the window he could not
resist the domunda for his appearance on
the platform,and ptiton hisehmk ami went
out. There was wonderful shaking of hands
and muny words of kindness. “How is my
old friend, Col. II.V" said lie. “He is one
ol the oldest friends, and when 1 ask for .
him I ask for all.” Here, again, General
Breckinridge assured them of Ids desire for
quiet, as ho was hero on permission. He ,
had many kindly words of greeting, such
as “God bless you,” “General, it does lie*
heart good to aeo you,” “Young as ever,”
Ac. The General replied that ho was wdl,
and glad to got back, but felt older, and
certainly had grown gray. Col. Woodford,
of the Southern Hotel, met the General at
Cynthiana, and introduced many to him,
among them an Ohioan, who said he never
saw the General, but voted for him over
there.
A conversation sprung up about the Cubi
net. As to Stewart, General Breckinridge
said “ lie thinks, doubtless, he will make
a good Secretary, and ho he may, as lie has
head enough to acquire a big loriune for
himself; but it was strange they never
thougbt-of that law. Sumner would nevor
forgive himself for not being the lirst to lind
that out.” The General rut used a pressing
invitation to stay at Paris, and left tin*
crowd there waving him adieu, and pushed
on for Lexington. As bo neared Lexington
this returned exile peered out into the
gathering night to catrfTi the familiar objects
of childhood days and recognized many a
one as he sped onward, and spoke of them
to who gathered around him.
“ Nearly eight years ago,” said he twice in
soliloquy, as old landmarks sped behind,
and then was silent.
At Lexington station the waiting crowd
peered into tho cars, and when he appeared
cheered “ three cheers for General Breckin
ridge.” The object of the cheers, modest as
ever, simply shook bands and pushed his
/Way to a carriage with his wife, and with
''cheers following him, drove to Will Breck
inridge's residence, his home for a time,
where all the evening a crowd of visitors
and admirers congratulated him. He was
reticent as to politics, and his friends did
not speak much of tho past, but welcomed
him as one much loved and long expected.
To reporters he said he did not want pub
licity—onlyquiot. A serenade was arrang
ed, but a heavy rain prevented up to ten
o’clock. The General had determined to
simply return thanks in ten or fifteen words.
THIS oKRENADK OF OKN. UK ECK IN It 11)0 K
AND ms srKECII.
Despite tho rain a serenade took place ut
half-past ten to night, preceded by bonfires
and rockets. A large crowd, preceded by
n band, assembled tn front of tho house, the
baud playing and the people cheering tor
Gen. Breckinridge. When tho band bad
ceased playing •‘Home, Sweet Home,”
somebody called for "Hail to tho Chief,”
and the crowd demanded ‘‘Dixie.” Thn
rain was lulling in torrents then, butthere
wore lou'd calls of “Down umbrellas,” and
up went cheers into the ruin. At (hispoinl
Gen. Breckinridge appeared, and, ntnid
deafening cheers, commenced speaking.
His remarks attracted close attention, ami
were greeted at the close with rounds of
cheers. Gen. Breckinridge said :
Fellow-Citizens—ln returning home
after so long an absence \ would be a very
strange being if I wore insensible to tin's
very cordial reception from my friends and
neighbors. I feel it deeply, mid I thank
you sincerely. Recently I have observed
that it is very difficult for poisons in my
situation to pursue thut line of conduct that
they may wish to pursue. Nevertheless, it
muy bo proper to say that I accept thiH in
formal but most cordlul welcome us purely
personal und contaiuing no particle of po
litical significance. (A voice—" Turn's
right.”) Indeed, I can and will sav that the
tremendous events of the last eight years
have had a great tendency to deaden, il'not
destroy, old party feelings; and for myself
I can truly declare that I no more luel the
political excitements that marked tho t cenes
of my former years than if I were an ex
tinct volcano, I will not now ssv more,
except to express the pleasure that I feel in
coming back to the people whom I ho dearly
loved.
Mlintlhe < tin Do.
To arrive at thn difference hi mean lime
between San Francisco and Boston, tho
wires of the Western Union Telegraph Co.
have nightly been connected, tor nearly a
month past, from one side of the continent
to the other, by connecting the pendulum
of the chronometer at Cambridge, Mass.,
with tho wire, in such a manner thut the
main circuit is broken aud instantly closed
again nt every beat or tick of the time
piece. Kuch second of time goes forth from
the Cambridge University on the Atlantic
Coast, with the speed of light itself, hurry
ing on over tho magic wire, over cities,
towns villages, rivers, mountains, along
tho open country, until it finally reaches
the recording instrument on the Pacific
Coast. In a sentence the ticks of a clock in
Boston are recorded in San Francisco al
most in the same instant.
Notwithstanding the speed with which
the pulsations of a clock fly from one side
ot a continent to the oilier, thero is a very
slight loss of time in the transmission, and
this loss is measured as follows: A second
wire is switched into place a "repealer”
added at Boston, and it is done. r l'ho clock
licks made at San Francisco rush over the
3,000 miles of wire to Boston, und back
again to San Francisco over the second
wire, and record themselves at llie point of
starting, in less than sixty seoouds of time,
having traversed 0,000 miles. fSutiduy
night witnessed tho successful completion
ofthislast experiment. Never before, wo
are assured, has such a feat boon attempted,
and this one was successful,over the West
ern L nion wires, through the supet iornbil
ity of its employees. The route on the map
is from Poston, Albauy, JJujJ'alo, Detroit,
Chicago, Omaha, Cheyenne, <S alt Lake city,
and Virginia City, on to San Francisco, and
is of course doubled, forming for all prac
tical purposes but a single circuit. Tho
places in Italics indicate where repeaters
are used to form the double circuit.
Great lor Uncle .Snm.
The wife of a German mechanic (who is
blessed by tbe present state of affairs bv
being out of work) sells the surplus milk
of her cows to neighbors. A few days ugo
tbe husband was waited upon bv an As
sistant Assessor of Internal Revenue and
obliged to pay ten dollurs £»>r a license ns a
retail dealer! The law provides that this
license shall only be paid by those “ whose
business or occupation is to sell” goods,
wares or merchandise; now cow’s milk
may bo goods, wares or merchandise, but
it is not this man’s ** business or occupa
tion ” to sell this desirable commodity, but
to work at his trade. We wonder the poor
feUow was- not stuck for a fifty dollar
“ wholesale license,” as their might be some
difficulty in deciding whether or not the
milk was sold in the "original package or
piece.”
Truly the frogs are getting into our knead
trougbs, and the bondholders are becoming
ranro exacting.— Pittsburg Post,
qnare of ten for IK
aiUonal square.
RealEbtate Advertising, lOcent* a line far
the first,and soenU for each subsequent in*
sertlon.
General Advertising 7 cents a line for itia
first, and i coots for each snb-equent Inser
tion.
Speoial Notices Inserted In Ltfcal Column
15 cents per line.
Special Notices preoedlng marriages and
deaths, 10 cents per line for first Insertion
and 6 cents for every subsequent l nßertlon;
Legal and othkb,p(otice&—
Executors’ notices 2.50
Administrators’ notices, 2.50
Assignees’ notices 2.60
Auditors' notices, 2.00
Other “Notices,' l ten Hues, or less, Z
three times, 1.50
ess Item*
A monument to Gen. Lyon is to beerect
ed in St. Louis.
Henry W. Longfellow will return to this
country next August, it Is suid.
Tho charities ami benevolent agencies in
London amount to .£12,000.000.
A largo emigration of Swiss colonists to
Tennessee is reported.
The price asked for the Paris Figaro
newspaper is $500,000 in gold.
Lamnrtine’s life was insured for loo.ono
francs iu favor of his niece.
The New York House of Representatives
yesterday ratified theSufi'rnge Amendment.
Gerrish, lute city treasurer of Lowell, is
said to have defaulted iu $150,000.
Stephen A. Douglas' second son is In tin 1
Jesuits’ College at Georgetown, and takes
to poetry.
Hon. James Guthrie, ux-U. S. Senator
from Kentucky, died at Louisville mi'Sul
urdav.
Mexican advices, via Halve** tun, si ate I hat
the insurrection iu Tainaulip.is has been
suppressed.
Ripe tomutoes, hot-house strawhorru s
and cucumbers are plenty iu the New York
market.
Rev. 11. W. Beecher's wife makes s.'>,ool)
a year ” pin money " hv editing Mother at
florae.
The loss by the hurtling ol (he steamer
Ruth, on her vnvnge from St. I antis to New
Orleans is over SJt)o,iHK).
George .Shannon, a priuter, died at his
(•use in New York, on Saturday, of hemor
rhage of the lungs.;
Beecher has a brother who preaches in
Mlmira every Suudy night in conjunction
with a brass baud.
John A. Logan is “ on probation ” in tho
Methodist Church of Carb-mdalc, 111., and
ought to ho kept there.
Guoeii Victoria has recently engaged, as
a reader, the daughter of the preacher who
coutirim.nl the late Prince Albert at t bhurg,
Mr. T. G. Applehm Ims bougtfl at Rome,
and given to Die Boston Public Library
i the collection of the late Cardinal Tusti’s
l engravings, which number 10,000.
I Gnu banker iu Paris, M, Tlulmihlcuu.
! holds seventy thousand pound’s worth of
i Gonfedoruto bonds, for which lie paid fitly
per cent, of their face.
One hundred and live German authors
have signed tho petition praying General
i Jrant to recommend to Congress the adop
tion of a good intoriiHiionul copyright law.
Lleutonunt Governor Biosh, of Chicago,,
lately presented the Historical Society of
that city with a London bonk on naval
architecture, worth flood in gold.
Tho well-known scholar, llassan Etfeiuli,
iw Die man whoexhutned the Tnnour man
usmipts from Die sepulchre of the Indian
office.
Tho Ktnpererof Brazil lias paid tho hill
of Mr. Felix Yogoil for trunslntuig Profes
sor and Mrs. Agassiz's “Journey” into
French.
Tho Georgia Senate, yesterday, by tho
casting vote of its President, indefinitely
postponed tho consideration of Dm Nutl'rage
A memlmcnt.
There is n touching perception of Die fit
ness of things in the seleclion of Romero In
do Baden if s M dll ary II Glory ol G rant, into
Spanish.
Mr. Alexander W. Kingbikc Isom* of the
members of Parliament unsealed on Die
charge of bribery. Tho judges exonerate
him personally, but inculpate his friends.
Isaac Pickering’was a shrewd citizen of
Connecticut who got a neighbor to assist
him in digging a grave “ for a joke," and
then shot himself to fill it In dead earnest.
Gilmore, the Chairman of the Republican
State Committee of Virginia, has published
a card opposing tho nominations lor Statu
olhcers made by tho Petersburg Conven
tion.
Two men disputing iu an auction room
at Chicago yesterday, one of them tired at
the (tlher. Tho bull entered the lung of u
third man \vh<> was standing near, aud in
dicted a mortal wound.
Tho Indian murders aud depredations in
Arizona are reported to be so numerous
that the whites are talking of a war of ex
termination. Tho Indians .have als » mur
dered it settler and burned Ids house, in
Humboldt county, California.
Anna Dickinson, finding herself at Den
Moino*>, too lute lor Die tram which was to
carry her and her lecture to Mount Pleas
ants, nobly hired a locomotive and rode
thoroon to fulfil the engagement. Toe trip
cost her $lOO, and the lecture returned her
$l5O.
The President hns ordered our squadron
in the Cuban waters to bo largely rein
forced. Among tho addil-onal vessels to ho
sent there arc two iron-clads. The Spanish
Lin hussy at Washington has prepared a
formal protest against the alleged encour
agement and assistance* ofiured the Cuban
insurrectionists in Die Cniled Stales.
The old grenadier from who>o HuGc Na
poleon the First drunk at Ratisbon, during
tile inemnniblo campaign of IbO'>, and who
on that occusion uttered tho naive words:
“ After you, sire,” which caused Napoleon
to burnt into a tit of laughter, died on the
‘.Kb Of January at tile Hotel des luvulides,
in his eighty-fifth year.
An American confidence man, pretending
to bo the youngest son of .Secrotary Hewnnf,
has victimized certain good people of the
Austrian Capital to the tunool several tliou
suiid florins. Tho bogus Seward attempted
to escape from Vienna tho moment his
du pas got wind oi his true ehuriictor, blithe
was pursued, and will he sent to a peniten
tiary.
Several changes have boon made In the
military assignments, as follows; General
Sheridan is to command the Military Dm
sion of the Missouri; General llalleck the
Division of the South; General Thomas,
tbo Division of tbe Pacific ; General Scho
field, the Department of the Missouri; Gen
eral Howare, Bnuislurm. The Departments
ot .Washington uml the Cumberland are
discontinued.
By direction of Gen.’Sherman, the
Department link issued an order consolida
ting tho Infantry of tho army Into twenty
live regiments. No now enlistments are to
be made until the force is reduced to the full
number authorized fur the consolidated
regiments.
It is said that tho papers in The Atlantic,
on “Co-operative Housekeeping,”- were
written hv Mrs. Pierce, the daughter in
law of Prof. Pierce, of Harvard, and u
grand-daughter of tho lute Bishop Hopkins,
of Vermont. If this be true we think that
Mrs. Stowe, to whom the aiithoiship of Die
papers wus very generally attributed,
should have denied the report.
Horrible Murder by Negroes.
Fortress Monroe, Mar. lU.—A horrible
murder was committed on Sunday morn
ing, about four miles from Hampton, on the
Yorktown road, the particulars of which,
so far as we can ascertain, were as follows:
It seemslbut a man named John Thomas,
v. ho resides near Little Bechtel, was
aroused by some noise In the vicinity of bis
smokehouse, and got up to ascertain the
cuuse. Fearing that it might he robbers, ha
took down his shot gun and passed out of
the back door. Ho advanced cautiously to
the .smokehouse, and thero found three
Klulwart negroes busily engaged in prying
open the door.
As ho carno up near them he asked,
" what are you doing there?” when they
till three final at him and then lied. The
halls took effect, one In tho face, one in the
shoulder, and the other iu the vital regions
near the heart. Tiie shots did not prove
instantly fatal, and medical assistant;** was
at once sent for, but when the doctor ar
rived he informed the family that Thomas
was mortally wounded and could survive
but a short time. The outrage occurred
about two o'clock on Sunday morning, after
winch tho wounded man could scarcely
speak a word.
He staled that tho negroes werestrungers
to him and did not belong in thut vicinity,
though one of them he had seen before.—
They had extracted 2 teeth from a harrow
and were with these endeavoring to effect
an entrance, when they were disturbed in
their nefurious designs. Thomas was not
more than ten feet from the party when he
was sfiot, which accounts for the accuracy
of the aim. He lingered until noononSun
day, when ho died. He leaves a wife und
nine stnull children to mourn his loss. No
arrests have yet been made.
The Know Blockade oh tho Pacific Rond.
Tho Washington correspondent of the A'.
Y. Tribune says :
The Surveyor General of Idaho is here.
Hu is ouo of the many who walked 90 miles
to get around the snow-blockade of Ihe
the Union Pucfic Railroad. Ho unys the
principal trouble on the line was in tbecuis.
Someofthom from 100 to 1000 feet long, dirfl
ed full, and tho snow wus pucked in them
from 10 to 20 feet deep. Ho also says there
were 1,000 people at Pawling Springs. They
arrivodtheroFeb.il, und hud to stay to
March 1. Muny of thorn used up ull their
money paying fur board at the Company’s
Hole!'.
Bad for Joe.
An oxchnnge suys Brigham Young’s eon
Joe "smokes cigars, drinks liquor, gels
tipsy, plays poker, licks his wives and
prOHches the gospel.” Whereat tho Leba
non (Ohio) Patriot remarks that Joo ought
to remove to some Northern Stute, where
tho Radicals have a m ; Jorlly,*or, with
carpet-bag m band, migrate to Dixie und
become a Radlcul member of Congress ; for
he has all the requisite qualifications. No,
no. Joo evldeuuy has sins enough nlready
to answer for without adding a heavier
burden than all.— N. Y. Herald .
Arrival and Dr. Hadd<
Baltimore, March 19.—Doctor Mudd,
who arrived in tbe Liberty, has gone home.
He had many greetings here yesterday by
his sympathisers.