®&* gtowastw fatrtligesttv, FIJBiIHHKD EVaßlj WXDNXSDAYiBX• H'.’ o : . i 'SW ; t’Til ! ' l Jt' i 'CO. ••> fi- t i-. * - ;i 1 ) M 1..; : . .' ■•[; • < A. J. STEnrarAK H. Gv S^UTH TERMS-7rwo’Dollars 1 annum, payable In all eases in advanoe. The Lancaster Daitly Ihtelugenceb far pubilahed«very evening:, Sunday excepted, at §5 per Annmn In advance*. OFFICE—SOUTHWEST OOKSXB OF OXSTBH aauARE., ■ . fodttj. OBKAHS or THE PAST jjy fLinLIE F. WALKBfi. The tlowera long faded, bloom again. The fountains gush, the breezes play, Spring violets peep from the mossy deli, The forest rings with the wild-blrdH’ lay By the rippling stream, the ivy twines, Tho tree bent low by »bo wintry blast. But at eve, the sighing zephyrs, low Whisper to mo, a dream of the past. When T.l fe’s dark waves are tossln g high, Against my bark that’s sinking low, Stray sunbeams lend Ibelr rays awhile, And light my heart with mcruury’H glow. ’Tie sweet t<* wander back uyalu ; A holy spell Is oVr mo cast, In my mother's arms I rest again, I dreumIHOIOrT PI ! 00 ?:UUi 7/ o:T ri "o /' • ;•* / O fIT (Hie lancastcr sutdlujciifcr. VOLUME 70 “No, no, not him,” she answered, while aperceptibleshudderran through her frame.''"' But his name had roused her from her strange lethargy, or trance, or whatever it might have been. ■ “ I was reading the words,” she said. “What words, Marie ?” I answered. “You know the words on the monu ments; and if you did not, you could not read them at such a distance.” She replied, “I am speaking of the third one; it is taller than' the other two, and the wordß are so distinct: “Sacred to the memory of Marie Per cival, who died February sth, 18—, aged nineteen years and elevenmonths.’ ” “Hush, Marie 1” I said. “I cannot hear you talk so and happily for me, Mr. Percival, who was looking for his bride, discovered her at this moment. A few rapid steps brought him to her side. “Why, Marie,” ho said, you are as pale as one of Horace Walpole’s ghosts —bah! it is this ghastly moonlight!” He drew the curtains together aud I saw the color come back to her face as he bore her away. But I knew it had gone from mine. I knew there was*an unearthly pallor on my own face, as I sat there with my back to the moonlight; and still tho musicians played on—it was Weber’s waltz, and it seemed as if the waltzers would never tire ; my brain reeled, and circled, and quivered, aud still they played on, and still the waltz era waltzed—then Marie and her hus band floated by, the merriest among them all. Am I the victim of adreara V I said. Did Marie Percivil stand by my side a moment ago, reading the inscription upon her own tomb ? was that true ? or is this true ? for at that moment it did not seem to me that both could be true. Just as I was losing the power to solve this or any other question, the waltz ended aud supper followed. Shortly after the party broke up, and Murie kissed me good night, without making any allusion to the singular episode which had made such a painful impres sion on my mind. Murie kissed me “good night,” I said, but it was in reality good bye, for as they were to leave by live o’clock the next morning, I did not expect to see her agaiu until her return. This woultl be in about four weeks, mid I had promis ed to remain with her parents until Hint time. But fate decided otherwise. A few lines from an only brother in formed mo that ho had just decided to carry out a long-cherished wish, whicli was to go with his wife to Europe. It was their desire that I should accompa ny them. As we were to start in less than a week, 1 was obliged to hurry home. I left a few lines for Marie, stating that I would write to her ns soon as possible, and let her know where to ad dress a letter to me IL is not my purpose to speak of my life in Europe—where we wfentor what wo saw—only this : My brother could never understand my dislike to visiting the tombs of tho dead. “I do not like rummaging in grave yards,” I would say to him. So, too, with all moonlight nights ; so beautiful to him, but whicli were, and always will lie, a ghastly horror to me. I wrote frequently io Mario and her mother, hut my brother had no fixed plan, ami as wo were constantly on tlto move, it was impossible for me to re ceive any replies. We remained abroad until the follow ing April, a little more than a year. The day after our arrival home, I start ed for Mr. Linden’s. I cannot exactly tell what my feelings were as the cars neared the old town. Certainly I was not as calm as I would have been with out that disturbing vision. But if any ono hud asked me if I believed in the possibility of its truth, I should liave answered, “ No.” It was four o’clock when I arrived at. the end of my journey. A few minutes’ walk brought me to the house. I rang tho bell, which was answered by au old woman whom I had frequently seen during my previous visits. “ Come in,” she said. “ Mr. and Mrs. Linden are in Europe; you did not know it, perhaps.” “ I kuow nothing,” I replied quick ly ; “I have just returned from Eu rope myself.” ——' 1 could not a*k about Marie; but I arose and went to the window, the one that looked out upon the churchyard, and I saw —yes, reader, I saw the third monument; iu ten minutes I stood be fore it. With a brain too paralyzed to admit of surprise, or aDy other feeling, I read: “Sacred to the Memory of Marie Percival, who died February f>th, IS—, aged nineteen years and eleven mouths.” I don’t kuow hosv long it was before I was aroused by the olu woman from the stupor into whioh I had fallen. Be coming alarmed at my long stay, she had come out to find me. From her I learned all I shall eyer kuow. I v/iil tell it in as few words as possible. On that day Marie, with her husband, and two or three other ydllng friends, liad gone out on the bay, as was their frequent custom when the weather was fine. 1 gathered, from what the woman said, that tho day had been unusually calm, hut that a sudden squall had thrown the boat against a low reef of slimy, weed-covered rocks, which ran out into the water. It did not upset the boat, hut Mrs. Percival was a thrown out. The accident happened on the seaward side of the rocks, and though Mr. Percival was a good swimmor, aud remained in the water until ho was dragged out by one of the party, yet Mrs. Percival was not found until some hours afterward. I have only to add, that Mr. Linden, who was an Englishman, took his wife to Europe, hoping that in change of scene she might recover from the shock. But she died shortly afterward, and was buried there. Mr. Linden lias never returned to this country. Of Mr. George Percival I know noth ing. Whether lie married again, or whether lie is still mouruingforhislost bride, I cannot say. But, reader, I have told you a true story—the solution T leave for you. ' A Perfect Horse, iii weight she might have turned, when well conditioned, nine hundred and fifty pounds. In color she was a dark chestnut, with a velvety depth and soft look about the hair indescrib ably rich and elegant. Many a time have I heard ladies dispute the shade aud hue of her plush-like coat as they ran their white, jewelled lingers through her silken hair. Her body was round in the barrel, and perfectly symmetri cal. She was wide in the haunches, without projection of the hip-bones, upon which the shorter ribs seemed to lap. High in the withers as she was, tiie line of her back and neck perfectly curved, while her deep, oblique shoulders aud long, thick fore arm, ridgy with swelling sinews, suggesting the perfection of stride and power. Her knees across j,lio pan were wide, the cannon-bone below them short aud thin ; the pasterns loDg and sloping; her hoofs round, dark, shiuy, and well set on. Her mane was a shade darker than her coat, line and tliiu, os a thorough-bred's always is whose blood is without taint or cross. Her ear was thin, sharplypointed, delicately curved, nearly black around tlie borders, and as tremulous as the leavesof an aspen. Her neck rose from the withers to the head in perfectcurvature, hard, devoid of fat, and well cut under the chops. Her nostrils were full, very full, and thin almost as parchment. The eyes, from which tears might fall or lire ilash, were well brought oat, soft as a gazelle’s, almost human in their intelligence, while over the small bony head, over neck and shoul ders, yea, over the whole body and clear down to the hoofs, the veins stood out as if the skin were but tissue-paper against which the warm blood pressed, and which It might at any moment burst asunder. "A perfect animal,” I said to myself, as I lay looking her over—” an animal which might have been born from the wind and the sun shine, so cheerful and so swift she seems ; an animal which a man would present as the choicest gift to the wo man he loved, and yet one which that woman, wife or lady-love would give him to ride when honor and life de pended on bottom and speedvkfton tic Monthly. At Ohambersbarg L Fa., Cain Morris, a young negro, convicted of atrociously as saulting three yonng ladles of the violnity, was eentenoed to 35 years' Imprisonment in tko Eastern Penitentiary. A deputation of Virginians, headed by Generarßobert B. Lee, is in Baltimore, to urge the 00-opcration of that olty in extend ing the Virginia Valley Railroad. In the Country* BT W. SCOTT WAY. Mr. and Mrs. Wogton reside in the city; they always have resided in the city, and, in all probability, they will continue to reside there as long as their lease of life holds good. ’Twas near the close of a warm sum mer’s day—a sultry, dusty day, that made the perspiration ooze out of one’s skin till one felt like one had been “ dipped” by a baptist minister—when Mr. and Mrs. Wogton sat in their din ing-room, surrounded by their interest ing family of six, eating dinner. Mrs. Wogton buttered a roll, glanced at her husband, who was eating with one hand and brushing flies off his face with the other, and said softly: “ Charles, dear, you know my Cousin Eliza, who lives iu Green county?” “ Yes, my dear,” Charles replied, in serting a piece of steak into his mouth, and laying down his knife aud fork. “ She has often invited me out to her pretty country homp,” resumed his bet ter half. 11 VYell, what of it?” returned he, wiping the perspiration from his face, and. pushing back his plate. “Why,” said Mrs. Wogton, very sweetly, “ I have made up my mind to pay;herk visit. The city is so warm, aud dry, and nasty,-you know, Charles; and Washington Thomas, our eldest, is suffering so much for some country air, and Victoria Amelia, the next,, is grow ing paler and paler every day, and Francis Jackson is always unwell, and dear Doctor Cutemup says baby will die if he does not get some fresh air. Yes, dear, I will write to Eliza to-night, and Btart for Green county on Monday next if you do not object.” “ Do you intend to take all our chil dren with you, Mrs. Wogton?” the benedict asked, while au expression of anxiety settled on his face. “Of course, dear!” she replied, “ I could not bear to be separated from any of my darlings for a single day. You will not object to me taking them all, will you, Charles?” “ No, not all!” he returned, quickly, lookiug very much relieved, “take them—every one of them, by all means, dear! Country air will do them good. I will miss you very much, but don’t mind tiiat by no means—Washington Thomas, haven’t I told you it was bad manners to lick your plate? Now don’t Jet me sec you do so again !” “ Charles,” said Mrs. Wogton, laying herhaudon Washington Thomas’ head, “ look whata high intellectual forehead lie has; it he lives I am sure he will be a poet or a great man—won’t you, dear?” Washington continued to lick his plate in silence, while Mr. Wogton rose from his chair, informed his wife that lie hud urgent business witli “Tongs and Company,” seized liis hat, lit a cigar, and went “down town.” Monday came, audit proved to be a hot clear day, Mrs. Wogton gathered up her six children, kissed Charles good-bye, and started for Green county. Jt was not a pleasant journey she had —far from it. The car was close, the air warm, and the dust blew into the open windows in clouds. Her two youngest children cried most of the time, aud she had to hold Washington Thomas ou liis seat, for that young man, on a small scale, had a desire to go out on the platform and gaze on the many ruralscenes. Taking all this into con sideration, Mrs. Wogton was exceed ingly delighted when the cars drew up at Green county station. Mrs. Wogton, with her six children, got out, and the- cars moved on. She then looked about her for some one of whom to inquire the way to “Marsh farm.” The only person visible was a short shabby man, who stood in the doorway of the station house smoking a black clay pipe. “Will you please tell me how far it is to ‘Marsh farm,” and what road I must take to reach it?” she asked of him. “Yes, ma’am;” the short man re plied, blowing a clowd of smoke from his mouth, “’Cordin’ to my calkerlr tiou its about two miles from here, mcie or less ; an’ a darned bad road to boot! Keep straight ahead on this road”—he pointed it out with a dirty finger—“till you see a yaller house, an’ then turn to your left an’ go right ahead till you come to a house with green doors an’ blue winder curtains. That’s ‘Marsh farm,’ ma’am —goin’ to tote all ’em youngsters out there?” “Yes, sir;” Mrs. Wogton auswered, taking her youngest in her arms, “ I expected a carriage from the farm to meet me, but I see none here —I suppose my letter miscarried.” “Lord, ma’am !” returned the man, knocking the ashes from his pipe and refilling it with tobacco, “they hain’t got no carriage—they never owned*one there, cause they’re too larnal stingy. Tliey’er got an ox cart, an’ a boss cart, an’;a wheelbarrer and that’s all wehicles they own. They’ve got eight children, too, ma’am; wheu you git out there with yourn there’ll be a bunch on ’em, I’m a thinkin’—it’ll be equal to what Parson Jawmsome call * Panjemon ium !” Mrs. Wogton did not reply, but with her youngest child in her arms and the other five in tow, she started down the rough dusty road in the direction of ‘Marsh farm,' the residence of Kliza Smith aud her husband, Isaac. A journey of two miles on foot, over a dusty, uneven road, with a scorching sun overhead, is not pleasant—in it is exceedingly hard to accomplish, and if Mrs. "VVogton had not got a ride two thirds of the way In a farmer’s wagon, she would not have been able to reach her destination that day. Eliza Smith, from an upper window, saw her cousin as she entered the gate, and turning to her eldest child, a girl of 1 of twelve, she exclaimed : “Great Guns! Julia Jane, just look out here at this site! Here comes that cousiu o’ mine, Mrs. Wogton, with her six brats. They’ll eat us out o’ hus an’ home in two days—there they are at the front door, but she won’t git in tnere — I don’tleteverybody inmyfrontroom! I must go down an’ let her in though, I or she’ll pound the door dun. I do wish people would stay to hum—as my gran’- mother, who come over on the ‘ May flower,’ used to say —‘ wisitors eat more in a week than would last your own family a month! ’ Mrs. Wogton, after' eating a light supper—for the table contained nothing but fat pork, cold potatoes, and sour bread—was conducted by Mrs. Smith to an attic chamber, where the heat was suffocating, and the musquitos intolera ble. Between them and the crying of her children, she did not get two hours sleep, and arose next morning unre freshed, and with face aud hands swol len and sore from the bites of the poison ous insects. “Now, dear Mrs. Wogton,” said Eliza, when the breakfast of rye coffee, salt llsli, and combread, was over; “I’m a little behind hand with my work, an’ I’m goin’ to git you to churn for me, an’ the young ones can go out an' play. There’s nothin’ like play to make chil dren healthy, you know. Run out now, children, all on you!” “I’m afraid they will get freckled!” exclaimed the fond mother. “Greatguns!” returned Mrs. Smith, “freckles is the beauty o’ children! Who wants to see a young one the color o’ skum milk?” Mrs. Wogton had commenced churn ing, and was wishing herßelf back in the city with her husband, when Julia Jane Smith bounced into the room, and ex claimed : “O, ma’am! Washington Thomas has fell in the creek —he’s sunk, ma’am, run quick!” Mrs. Wogton dropped the churn han dle with a cry. and ran towards the oreek, followed by Julia Jane, and Mrs. Smith. She arrived at the place wb ere the child had fallen in,to flna him crawl ing up the bank, with the water run ning from his clothing in streams. His mother pressed him to her bosom with joy, and started back to the house with the dripping Washing T. in her arms. Before she reached the door, another of Mre. Smith’s children came running towards her yelling at the top of his voice: 41 Mrs. Wogton! oh, Mrs. Wogton I Towser’s bit Victoria Amelia’s hand off!” The frightened mother dropped the wet W. T., and ran to Victoria Amelia. Her hand was tom badly by the dog’s teeth, but surely not bitten off. She was taken to the house, and while her lacerated hand .was being dressed by her mother, Ellzaremovea Washington Thomas's wet olothes, and dressed aim out In a ragged suit belonging to her eldest boy. Jußt as Mrs. Wogton had finished LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING APRIL 28 1869 dressing her daughter’s hand, Julia Jane appeared again, and cried: “O, Misses! come oat to the barn, quick! Francis Jackson’s been tryin’ to milk a cow, an’ he’s got kicked all to pieces.' I ’spect she’s horned hins by this time, come quick I” The perplexed mother ran to thebarn. and found Francis Jackson not ‘kicked all to pieces, but badly huft; and with> a sob, she picked him up,ana commen ced to retrace her steps to the hoose. Before half the distance was passed .over, she met Julia Jane again, who was screaming as loud as possible: “O, ma’am! O, ma’am! run fast, for the baby’s fell down the stairs, and al most killed itself! Marm ses It’s gone into spasms!” With a loud scream, Mrs. Wogton rau to the house, and found her baby badly bruised from a fall down the steps; but Eliza assured her that the child’s in juries were not dangerous, aud utterly exhausted, she sank down ou the floor, and indulged in a long fit of sobbing. That evenlug when Isaac Smith took his seat at the supper table, he looked at his wife and Mrs. Wogton with a grave face, cleaned his throat, and said : “ I heard a piece o’ news to day that’s bad—awful bad!” “Why, Isaac dear, what Is it?” ask ed Eliza, looking startled. “Boggs’ children all got the black measles, an’ they’re spreadin’ all over the neighborhood. I know our young one will have 'em afore a week.!” “ Mr. Smith,” said Mrs. Wogton, with a very 1 pale face, “ would you be so kmd as to take me and my children to the staton to-morrow morning, in your cart?” Isaac smiled, winked at his wife, and replied: “If you want to go, I will, ma’am; butL'dWj; pee what you w&xptb leave thought you/wos goin’ tostayisome time!” y Mrs. Wogton with her children re turned to the city the following day, and Doctor Cutemup was obliged to call at the Wogton residence frequently, until the unfortunate children had en tirely recovered from their visit to the country. It is perhaps unnecessary to say that the “black measles” have not as yet appeared iu the family of Isaac and Eliza Smith, of Green county. Mrs. Wogton has informed her hus band that she has firmly made up her mind that she will never “visit Marsh arm” again ! Mot at Home. An elderly man, shabbily attired, was seen walking through one of the fash ionable streets in alarge city one coldDe cember day. His coat was of coarso grey and hai evidently seen hard service, though still perfectly whole and neat. The traveler walked slowly around as I have said, examining carefully as he pussed the names on the door plates. — He finally paused before a dwelling of showy exterior, whicli if we may credit the testimony of the plate upon the door, was occupied by Alexander Beau mont. “Alexander Beaumont!” yes, that’s thehbuse,” murmured the travolor to ldinself, as he ascended the steps and rang the door bell, His summons was answered by a ser vant who, after a moment’s scrutiny, which apparently was not of a very fa vorable character, said roughly, — “ Well, sir, what do you want?” “ Is Mr. Beaumont at home?” asked the old man, without heeding the in tentional rudeness. No, sir, he is not.” “ Then perhaps I can see his wife?” “ I think it very doubtful, but I will go aud see.” The servant withdrew without asking the old man to enter, though the day was very cold, and his clothing seemed to be haftßy sufficient to protect him from its inclemency. Mrs. Beaumont was reclining on a fanteuil in a room handsomely furnish ed. The last new magazine was in her hand, and her eyes were listlessly glan -.ng over its pages. She was interrupt ed in her reading by the entrance of the servant. “Well, what now, Betty?” she in quired. “There Is a man down stairs wants to see you, ma’am.” “Man! a gentleman you mean !” “No, ma’am,” said Betty, stoutly, for she well understood what made up gentlemen in the conventional sense of the term ; “ it isn’t a gentleman at all, for he’s got on an old grey coat and he has not got any gloves on.” ‘•‘What can he want of me?” “I don’t kirbw; he inquired after Mr. Beaumont first.” > “You didn’t bring him in tho parlor, did you?” The girl shook her head. “ You did right, and you’d better tell him I’m not at home.” “Mrs. Beaumont is not at home,” said Betty, reappearing at the door. “ I suppose that means she is engag ed,” said the old man; “I think she will see me when she learns who I am. Tell her I am her husband’s uncle and my name is Henry Beaumont.” “That old rag-tag master’s uncle,” said Betty, wondering as she ascended the stairs. “Good heavens!” said her mistress, “ it ain’t that old veteran who strolled oil’years ago nobody knows where. I did hope he never would come back agaiu. And now I suppose he is as poor as a rat and wants help. Well, he won’t get it if I can help it; but I sup pose I must see him.” The lady descended, fully prepared to give the visitor a frigid reception. “I’m not mistaken,” said the old man with feeling, “ it’s Alexander’s wife.” “ You are right, sir. lam the wife of Mr. Alexander Beaumont, and I sup pose from your language you are— “ His uncle Harry. Ah me! I have been gone so many years, aud it does me good to return my kindred.” The old man leaned upon his staff, and his feature worked convulsively as thoughts of thepast came over hismind. Mrs. Beaumont stood holding the door as if waiting for him to depart. She did not give him any invitation to enter. “ 13 your husband well?” inquired the visitor, looking in as if he expected an invitation to enter and refresh him self after his walk by an interval of ‘rest. “If you have any message for him you may leave it with me, and I will deliver it,” said Mrs. Beaumont, desir ous of ridding herself of the intruder as speedily as possible. “You may tell him I have called,” said the visitor in a disappointed tone, “and that I would like to have seen him.” “ I will tell him ; and Mrs. Beaumont was about to close the door. “Hold! there is one question more. What has become of Alexander’s sister Anna?” “ I don’t know much about her,” was the rather disdainful reply: but I think she married a clerk, mechanic, or some such person. His name is Lowe, and he lives in Norton street. Is that all? ” “Thatiß all.” The old man turned his steps towards the street indicated, with many fore bodings leßt his second visit might be as unwelcome as his first appeared to be. “Betty,” said Mrs. Beaumont, aashe closed the door, “ if that old fool comes again, be sure and not forget to tell him I am not at home.” Norton street was not a fashionable street nor was the two-story dwelling occupied by Wm. Lowe either hand some or costly. It was marked, how ever, by an air of neatness, which indi cated that its tenants were not regardless of outward appearances. We will take the liberty of introduc ing you into a little sitting room, where Mrs. Lowe and her three children were even now seated. A plain serviceable carpet covered the floor, and the re mainder of the furniture, though of a kind which would hardly be selected for a drawing room, bad a comfortable, home-like appearance, which simply satisfied the desire of those who derived their happiness from a higher and less mutable force than outside show. Mrs. Lowe was seated in a rooking chair, engaged in an employment whloh I am aware 1b tabooed in all fashionable society. I mean darning stookings. Emma, a girl of ten, was brushing np the hearth, whloh the ashes from the grate, in which a blazing fire was now urniDg, had somewhat disordered, while Mary, who was two years young* er, was reading, Charley, a little rogue of five, with a smiling face whioh could not help looking roguish, was stroking the cat the wrongway much to the dis turbance of poor Tabby, who had quiet* ly settled herself down to the pleasant dreams upon the hearth-rug. All at once a loud knock wa£ heard at the door. “Emma,” said the mother, “you may go to the door and see who it is, and Invite them in, for it is a cold day.” Emma immediately obeyed her moth er’s direction. “IsMrs. Lowe at home?” inquired Henry Beaumont —for it was he. “ Yes, Blr,” said Emma; please walk In, and you may see her.” She ushered the old man Into the comfortable sitting room. Mrs. Lowe arose to receive him. “ I believe,” he said, ‘,l’m not mis taken in thinking thatyour name before marriage was Anna Beaumont?” “Your are right, sir, that was my name.” “Aud you have no recollection of an uncle that wandered away from home and friends ami from whom no tidings : have come for many a long year?” “ Yes, sir, I remember him well—my J uuele Heury, and I have many times wished I could hear something from him. Can you give mo any informa tion ?” “ I can, for I am he.” “You my uncle?” said Mrs. Lowe, in surprise, “then you areindeed welcome. Emma, bring yonr uncle the arm chair and place itclose to the fire; and, Mary, bring your father’s slippers, for I am sure your dear uncle must long to get off those heavy boots. And bow, uncle, when you are rested, I must demand a recital of your adventures.” . “But your brother, Alexander,” in terrupted Mr. Beaumont, “let me first inquire about him. He lives in the city now, does he not?” A light cloud came over Mrs. Lowe’s face. “ Yes,” she said, “ ho does live in the city, strange as it may appear, T seldom or never sea has succeeded weU ancTls wealthy; but ever since he married a wife with a small property and greater pride, he has kept aloof from us. Ido not blame him so much as his tflfe, who is said to have great influence over him. I have called once, but she treated me so coldly that I have not felt disposed to renew my visit. “I can easily believe it," was the re ply, “ for I, too, have been repulsed.” “ You repulsed? Did you give your name aud inform her of your relation to her husband?” “ I did, bnt she did not iuvite me to enter; and she was evidently impatient for me to be gono; I took the hint, and here I am.” “At least, uncle,” said Mrs. Lowe, smilingly, “you need not be afraid of any repulse here.” “Of that I am quite sure,” said the old gentleman looking affectionately into the face of his niece. “But you have not told me of your husband. Let me know whether you have a good match,” he added playfully. “That depends upon what is meant by the term. If it implies a rich hus band, then IJfailed most certainly, for William’s salary is only eight hundred dolla r s a year, and that is what we have to ' _ k 1 upon. But for all that I care not, for a kind, affectionate husband is of far more worth than a magnificent house and the most costly furniture.” “You are right,” said her uncle warm ly, “and I infer that your Inn-hand is of such a character.” “He is in truth.” “Still," continued her uncle, “there must be something which your limited income will not permit you to obtain, but which would be desirable, is there not?” “ Yes,” said Mrs. Lowe, “ 1 am anx ious to give Emma and Mary a musical education, bat William’s means will not aliow of such extravagance as the purchase of a piano; so that is one of the things|wliich we must bo content to deny ourselves.” Mr. Lowe then entered, and being in formed of the character of his visitor he extended a hearty welcome. A comfortable repast was soon spread, of which Mr. Beaumont readily partook. His spirits rose, and he seemed to grow younger as he saw the cheerful faces around him, and felt himself at home. Soon after the evening meal he arose to depart. ‘ Surely, you are not going ?” said liis niece; “you must henceforth take up your abode with us.” “ We will see about that, and if you don’t think you will get tired of me. perhaps I will come. But I have hired a lodging and mustundoubtedly remain in it for a few days.” But you must call here every day and make yourself perfectly at homo even before you come here to stay,” persisted liis niece. “ Be assured of that.” In accordance with his promise Mr. Beaumont made his appearance next day at eleven o’clock, and was received as cordially as before. He had hardly been at the house a quarter of an hour when a loud rap was heard at the door. She beheld two men who had just dri ven up in a wagon. “ Where is the pianoto be put ma’am,” they inquired. “Piano! You have made a mistake; we have not purchased a piano.” “Isn’t your name Lowe ?”» “Yes.” “Then it is all right. Jim bear ahand, for it is confounded heavy. “But I am quite sure there must be some mistake,” still insisted the per plexed Mrs. Lowe. “Not all,” said a loud voice behind her. Khe turned around in amazement. “You know,” continued the uucle, “that I am going to come and live with you, and I thought I would pay my board in advance, that is all. As you expressed a wish yesterday for a piano, I thought it would be as acceptable a way as any. “You uncle! Why—excuse me—but I thought from—from.” “ You mean,” said he smiling, “ that you thought from my appearance that I could not afford it. And I confess,” said he, casting a glance at himself in the glafcs, “ that ray dress iB not in the extreme of the fashion, and in fact I was obliged to look sometime, when I called at the second hand clothing store the other day, before I could find these. However, as I have got all the service I wished out of them, I shall throw them aside to-morrow, and appear more re spectably clad.” “What! are you wealthy, uncle?” “Depend upon it, Auua, I didu’t spend ten years In the East Indies for nothing,” was the reply. “I had a mind, however, to put on the appear ance of a poor man and so test the affec tion and disinterestedness of my rela tions. One of them, however, I found not at home; I am happy to find my self at home with other. Let us return to the aristocratic Mrs. 8.,wh0 in a few evenings succeeding the events here recorded, was In her draw ing room receiving calls. “By the way,’’ said a fashionable visitor, “ I am to have your relatives, the Lowes, for my next door neigh bors.” “Next door neighbors!” exclaimed Mrs. Beaumont in amazement. “What do you imean ?” “ Is it possible you have not heard of their good fortune ? Mrs. Lowe's uncle has just returned from the East Indies with an immense fortune.” “ He has taken a house In the same block with ours, and when they have moved into it, will take up his residence with them. Meanwhile he is stopping at the R House.” “What! Henry Beaumont?”! “ The very same, but I thought you knew it.” When the visitor withdrew, Mrs. Beaumont ordered a carriage, and im mediately drove to the hotel where her hasband’B uncle was stopping. She sent up her card and requested an audi ence. The servant soon returned with an other card on whioh were traced the significant words: 14 NOT AT HOME.” vacancies in the State Senate. Twelve vacancies will have to be filled it the coming State election, in the State Sen ate. Eight Republicans and four Democrats retired at the close of the late session—one Republican resigning. The names of the retiring Senators aroßlllingfeltand Fisher, of Lancaster; Brown, of Meroer j Barnett, of Monroe; Coleman, of Lebanon; Jackson, of Sullivan; M’Oanalesa, of Philadelphia; Bearlght, of Fayette; Stutzraan, of Somer set: Taylor, or Beaver, and Worthington, of Chester. Mr* Errett, of Allegheny, must resign. The French Atlantic Gable. Nbw York. April 20.—The Post says it is understood that the Frenoh Atlantio Cable will be landed at Cape May, New Jersey, under authority granted by the Legislature at its last session* A company was organized at Camden on Saturday last, to co-operate with the Frenoh company. What Our Correspondent Saw on Board the Steamship Wm. Taber. Laying at the foot of Nineteenth street, East River, is the steamer Wm. Taber, belonging to the “ Lowe Steam ship Refrigerating Company, of New York,” (such we believe is the exact wording of the Company title) and con stituting the pioneer vessel of the newly projected enterprise by which it Is pro posed to offset the present extravagant rates of our beef market, which now rule that commodity to be an expen sive Instead of a daily necessity. The ship herself is a side* wheel steam er, flush deck and housed up, hull built unusually strong, being almost abed of live oak timbers; was launched in 1857, and run principally In theNew'Orleans aud Galveston trade, aud now rates ex ceedingly well for a vessel of her age. Passing in by the after gangway one’s attention is first attracted to an oscilla ting engine, bedded ou the main deck, just iu the rear of the spot where the huge engines that drive the paddle wheels liave their play, hut fed and driven by steam from asmall boiler, set transversly across the same deck, for ward of the main boiler, though haviug no connection whatever with the latter, and so allowing the refrigerating appa ratus to work on an independent basis of its own. Near the rear of the star board paddle- box is a machine, some thing akin to the generators used in connection with an ordinary soda water fountain, ouly ol much larger caliber, wherein by similar process, carbonic acid gas is obtained, and thence with drawn into large india rubber tanks previous to its passage into the con denser. The latter, made of gun metal aud tested to a pressure of ten thousand pounds to the square inch, receives the -gas and is subject to a compression of eighthundred pounds to the square inch, power of that purpose being furnished by the Oscillator. This delicate little sqeezing reduces it to a gaseous liquid, which, upon contact with the atmos phere, immediately congeals, assuming a form like light flakes of gypsum, with perhaps less density than falling show, and becoming literally, “palpable cold” —but I am forestalling ray subject, and of this more anon. Over the main holds of the vessel, both fore aud aft, which constitute the refrigerating receptacles for the dressed carcasses, are two fan-boxes separated by a cooling chamber. These fans, driven at a high rate of speed, force the atmosphere from the first compartment into and through the cooler, where it comes in contact with a mesh of iron pipes, which piping being highly sur charged with the liquified carbonic gas, produces an intense degree of cold. From thence the coldened air, blown by the second fan, is distributed into the hold below, but subject to such powers of regulation that the thermom eter cun bo made to show indications of whatever degreeof temperature may be desired, from an assimilation of the ex istent outside heat, to a point consider ably below zero. However, it is not intended to have the meat frozen, but only to keepitsur rounded with a stratum of pure dry atmosphere, showinga degreeof warmth just above tlie freezing point. Iu such a state it will keep for an almost indefi nite period, as has already been proven on the high aud table lands of South America where it eventually became jerkecl beef. Under the action of Pro fessor Lowe’s process the same desider atum of preserving dryness is obtained while the lowness of the temperature prevents any rapid absorption of the juices. In other words, as compared with any ordinary ice house, you have in that instance “damp cold,” while the condensed carbonic gas, acting through iron pipes, gives “dry cold,” without at all deteriorating the eur- . rounding air. In company with several other gen tlemen I was piloted down a ladder, I through the hatchway, into the main after-hold. As we left the deck the mercury stood at 58 degrees, but below was down to 33 degrees—considerable of a change —one which called forth a closer wrapping of overcoats; and as my precious ideas of “ going below ” had been suggestive of “ something better,” it brought vivid recollections of one of J. Boss Browne’s humorous articles, describing a Western host of Uncle Sam’s Army where it was so hot that a wicked soldier, after death, returned in ghostly form aud asked for his blankets. This apartment, thickly sheathed and planked over, sides, top, and bottom, is estimated to stow the dressed carcasses of several hundred beeves, together with the one forward giving a carrying ca pacity of twelve hundred head. The cold air, forced in at the top, of course finds its way downward, giving the same curious appearance, when so placed that the jet is between oneself and the light, that one’s breath has on a severe wintry day, in out-door ex posure. The thermometer, when in serted within the pipe, gave 10 degrees lower than Zero, which upon diffusion became very materially hightened, the ratio of cold being controlled by the pressure from the refrigerator above. Remounting to the deck we were treated to an exhibition of rare and in teresting experiments, the first of which consisted in placing a woolen bag over the mouth-piece of a pipe, then turn ing a stopcock and allowing the liqui fied gas to issue slowly into it; the result was congealmeut, producing a huge mass of the light gypsum-like looking form, which I have previously dubbed “ palpable cold.” It was very noticeable, that whenever any of the party attempted to handle even a small paticle of it, they invariably dropped it rather quickly, the effect being that of a burning, stinging sensation. The moat remarkable characteristic was that ■it did not melt, but only slowly, and very slowly, too, evaporated away, changing into a alight grayish vapor, andthence blendinglmperceptibly with the lair, leaving no trace of any moisture nor residuum. Having secured his bag of visible cold, Prof. Lowe led the way to the Captain’s room on the upper deck, where, on a table, we found two huge silversalvers, two bottlesofchampagne, an equal number of eggs, an apple and an orange, while from a closet was pro duced a jar of ether and a large phial of mercury. A batch that, for cookery, which in rarity of collection fully offset the “Kitchen Cauldron” of “Macbeth.” Into, or rather unto, one of the salv vers, he put a quantity of the aforesaid visible cold, mashing it down into small lumps, with a large silver spoon, arid then poured on a portion of the ether, creating a boiling, bubbling motion. On top of that he placed the second salver, into which he placed the contents of a bottle of campagne—“Nowgentlemen,” said he, "look at your watches.” Slowly across the salver moved the spoon, stirring the liquid very much, as a cook does when scrambling eggs over a hot fire. Half a minute gone by the second hand, and a slight grayish mixture ap< pears to be raised by the spoon from the bottom of the dish. A minute and a half gone—the grav mass seems to pre dominate and the liquid to become ab sorbed. Three minutes gone, and the liquid has all disappeared. Still the spoon moves with the same steady sweep, heaping up a pile of what re sembles ice cream, rather on the straw berry tint; each inßtant it gets lighter, flakier; and " now, gentlemen;” says the Professor, ** allow me to help yorf to some frozen champagne!” Our glass es, used in lieu of disheß, being filled, andspoons provided, we atechampagne. Think of that! oh, ye individuals who seek after new sensations, how you would enjoy such a rarity, and, in con sequence, turn up your cultivated noses at what you would then consider " the vulgarity of drinkingchampagneasthe common masses do.” This deponent, however, is not troubled with such qualms of aristocratic conscience, and while testifying to having enjoved the frozen article very much, would never theless hardly turn his back on the same beverage in a liquid state. Next in order, an empty glass was brought into requisition, more of the "visible cold” taken from its woolen depository and transferred to the fragile vessel. Again the watches were called to note the time; an egg plunged into the white substance, then a seething and bubbling, caused, we were told, by the calorie within the egg itself, as if the heat were trying to escape from the sur rounding graßp of the white demon, whose chilling touoh outrivaled the "Beaper, called Death.” "Two min utes, fifteen seconds,” by aid of the spoon the egg was thrown out upon the table, and being forced open, gave all the appearance of one yhlch had been bollea nard, at least for a five or six min utes, save that there was an absence of the bluelsh tint which generally lines | the outer surface of the yolk in the lat ter. “So you see,” said our host, “ pro- I cess makes an egg hard in half the time j that your cooks can do it in." The orauge now came into play, being subjected to a Blmllar bath as the pre | oeedingone, also another egg, and the { apple, all, however, of some minutes’ longer duration; meanwhile the bulb ! of a spirit thermometer was throßt into j a lamp of the white element. “ Your | watches again! Fifty-seven degrees | above zero. Ten seconds pass and the I liquid indicator has run down to ten ' degrees below zero. Bee it keeps on | falling, only slower. Two minutes have i flown, It sinks from sight within the re morseless white surrounding it; the last uncovered mark was one hundred and fifty degrees below zero. Egg number two and the apple are next rolled out to view—off the table they go, falliug on the floor with a dull stony sound. One guest takes up the egg and hurls it down agaiu witli vio lence, it strikes with much force aud considerable rebound, but even the shell shows no additional fracture. Another essays to bite Into the apple, and as quickly abandons the attempt; a sharp stingiug sensation of the lips, a thrill of excruciating pain through the teeth and gums, warn him that it is too chill to admit of agreeable mastication. j The contents of the bottle of mercury are now subjected to the action of the, terrible white agent; first in small por tions, then after those have been allow ed to remelt, the whole of it, enough in volume to at least half fill an ordinary tumbler. Two minutes and a half elapse ; It has thoroughly hardened, and now appears on the salver like a mass of lead—save that it has a bright pol ished exterior. Be not astonished, oh reader, and haste not to accuse this witness of “ doing the marvelous” for verily “truth is often stranger than fiction.” To revert to the practical part of my letter, the ice makiDg box must not be forgotten. It stands on the same deck aud very near to the fan boxes, in length about eight or ten feet, and perhaps four broad, by three in depth, containing a large number of conical shared pipes, resembling in form and size the old fashioned sugar loaf. These pipes, hav iug first been filled with water, the gas is allowed to circulate around them, producing rapid concealment of their contents, giving ice of superior hard ness and quality; thus even in the hot test of tropical climates that article can be cheaply and quickly made. In such ports as Laguayra, Panama, Callao, etc., it would be invaluable for hospital purposes alone. The first cost of the necessary ma chinery surmounted, and there is very little additional expense; far below the ordinary outlay of cutting and trans porting to market, even where the fields are as convenient as those surrounding the City of New York itself. Orange ices, sherberts, etc., in Vera Cruz, Bombay, Honolulu, at the same comparative cheapness, as far as the freeztng material Is concerned as within our Northern cities. “A big thing on ice!” truly. The making of the ice, its quality and cheapness, have been practi cally demonstrated, and the company are about to convince the public of the utility of their beef carrying plan by placing a cargo of fresh Texan meat on the New York market, at prices within the reach of the daily laborer. In fitting up a vessel of over nine hundred tons for their purpose, there is an immense amount of work to be done, and the Invariable delays which always eDsue in such cases have not escaped even them, so that it is doubtful if the expe dition will get under weigh much before the last of the present month. Adventures Among the Arabs, UY COL. LEON LAFITTE. About two years ago, while travelling in the East, I met, in Jerusalem, an Arab chief, by the name of El Kasem, and having it in my power to aid him in a negotiation of a mercantile char acter with an English Jew, we became firm friends, he considering that I had done him an invaluable favor. One evening, while sitting in front of the Caravanserai where I was stopping while in the city, I saw Sheik Kasem approaching, and accompanied by his little son, who was leading a splendid looking black horse. I arose as he came up, and saluted him, which he returned, saying: “Sheik” —he always turned my title of Colonel into the Arabian for chief— “ I have brought you a desert horse, of the greatest speed and beauty, for your acceptance. He is noble, for my own family has raised him. He*e, Berber!” The last words were addressed to the horse, who came forward as he heard his name called, and rested his head against Kasem’s breast. I thanked the Arab chief over and over again, for as I intended to take a trip into Persia, the horse was a perfect god-send. To try the mettle of the animal, I ad j listed the stifrups and reins to my liking, and sprang into the saddle, and accompanied by El Kasem upon his beautiful charger, darted down the street. Berber answered every touch upon the rein, and behaved magnifi cently, gliding along at a tremendous rate of speed, with as much ease as if he were walking. I fell in love with him, and used all my eudeavors toshow him I was not only his master, bnt liis friend. During our ride, El Kasem in formed me that he was to leave in aiew days with a caravan that was going from Jerusalem across the desert to Bagdad on the Tigris river, and invited me to accompany him, saying it would be a good opportunity for me to learn the manners and customs of the coun try. lat once adopted his invitation, knowing that I could not but enjoy a journey of thekind. My arrangements were soon made, and bidding adieu to the few friends I had in Jerusalem, I rodeout ofthe city by thesideofKasem, and at the head of sixty mounted “sons of the desert.” There were in the cara van a motley crowd of Arabs. Turks, Jews, etc.; one Englishman, one American, besides myself, an Irishman and two Frenchmen. The Englishman, Irishman, French* j men, American, a Turk, El Kasem, two j other Arabs and mysdlf composed oue j mess, and a jolly one it was too: for wit, music, and stories combined to make it an agreeable companionship. Our course lay across the desert to Boursa, and there we were to cross the river Euphrates and continue on to Bagdad. For days we travelled on slowly over a barren country, now and then having the monotony of the line of march dis turbed by a brush with wild Arabs, who would dash up to the caravan and attempt a raid upon the merchandise. But these attacks we easily frustrated, for Kasem and his gallant followers would, in one grand swoop upon them, scatter the whole band to the winds. At length we drew near to Bouraa, and the caravan diverged somewhat from the usual route, towards Babylon, in* tending to cross the caravan highway from Aleppo to Bassorah, at Meshed, and there increase the merchandise for Bagdad market. Frequently upon the lovely evenings, fater the caravan had halted for the night, I would take Berber for a race over the desert for an hour or two. I rode upon a camel during the day, and relieved my noble horse of any burden. At night, after his feed, a good rub* bing down, and rest of two hours, he was perfectly fresh, and willing to try his speed against any chargers of the robber tribes. Two or three times I had been chased back to camp by these roving bands who infested the country, but relying on Berber’s speed, and a couple of good re volvers, that experience elsewhere had taught me how to use, I did not care much for them, nor heed the warnings of my friends. Upon one of these rambles, an incl dent occurred that I may as well men tion here. I was some two miles from camp, and had thrown my blanket upon the ground and lav down upon it, look ing up at the lovely night. I was awakened by a sound near mo, and a jerk from Berner. I sprang up In an instant, to find my self face to face with about a dozen Arabs. My first thought was resistance; but that was useless, for a dozen guns covered my body, so I asked In execra ble Arabic: " What do you wish ?” The answer came at once, rich and full, in perfect English:' " You are no Arab, are you ? "No! an American.” " So am I,” waa the reply. " What I an American, and a Sheik among Arabs ?” X asked In surprise. NUMBER 17 | I " Why not? You are dressed as an Arab, and might be taken \ ou ate here on the desert, why not I?” I could not but admit hla argument a food one, so in return told him whom was, and what doing there, and.in re turn asked him about himself. In my surprise at meeting an American there, ana chief of an Arab tribe, I forgot for the moment my own situation, that I was a prisoner; but now it came back to me, and I asked him: “ What are you going to do with me!” “ Nothing, except it is to invite you to make your home with us. We came upon yon unawares, and you are not our prisoner.” I thanked him, sud upon making known my intention of returning to the caravan, he said : “ Yes, I will join you, and rule part of the way, as I may protect you Irom other roving bands.” We mounted our horses and rodo oft together, he explaining to Ids followers that I was an old countryman, and the rules of Arabinu hospitality protected me. While riding along together he, at my request, told me something of his life ; that he was a Virginian, and fifteen years before had left his uatlvo laud as an exile, having stained bis hand with blood. The same old cause was of course his —that is, woman ; and that woman lie had loved devotedly, and from child hood she was his promised wile. Upon his return from college, he found she had been forced into a marriage by her brother with a man whom he detested. He wrought vengeance upon the brother and husband in a double duel, and lied the country. For years he waudered over the world, and while at Muacav^ l Arabia, joined a band of rovibgArabs, and after a few years became their chief. This the story he told me, as together we rode along. I asked him if he never cared to return to his home in America, and he auswer ed that when he heard of civil war that W’as being waged there, the desire had come over him to return and offer his sword to old Virginia ; but bis life bad become so thoroughly Arabic, he had easily resisted the inclination. His name he was reluctant togive me, but at last did so, after thinking a mo ment; and also intrusted me with a message to his mother and sister, whom he had never heard from. Hecontinued after a pause; “ There is one person whom I would like to know of, and that is she whom I have always loved.” I asked for her name and address, and promised to seek her out upon my re turn to America, and write to hirn, di recting the letter to his name, in care of an English house in Aden.: We had now come in sight of the camp, and I bade the chief good-bye, thanking him warmly for his escort and kindness. Memories of by-gone days had evidently been strongly awakened in him at sight of me, for he shook my hand sadly at parting, and followed by his horsemen, rode slowly off over the desert. I entered the camp, aud after attend ing to Berber, sought Sheik El Kasem, and telling him of my adventure, was told by hfm that my American ac quaintance was one of the most noted of Arab Sheiks, and that his .band of fol lowers were all known to be the beet horsemen and most daring raiders ou the desert. I may as well remark here, that upon my return to America, while passing through A County, Va., on my way home, I left the train at C , and procuring a horse at the livery stable, started out to find the residence of the American Arab’s mother. I found the place without difficulty—a large old family mansion, surrounded by a fine farm; but his mother had been dead for four years. His sister and her husband, with their family of four children,were living at the place. Fpon introducing myself, I received a cordial welcome from all; and when I had told the sister of her brother, and my meet ing with him, she was very much affected, but delighted to know he .was still living, for long since they believed him dead. Mrs. C- — .and her husbapd then showed me a full-length portrait of the absent one, taken when he was twenty two, and a few monta before his depart ure from America. It was, as well as I remembered his appearance by moon light, very much like him, though many years had passed over him since then. I asked about the woman whose mar riage had caused his exile, and was told she was still living, near by, tfnd ever sincehis departure had worn mourning; but whether for the dead husband and brother, or absent lover, was never known. I was easily persuaded to re main all night; and the next morning, bidding the kind family adieu, J rode over totheplantationtovisitthe woman who, by one blow, had been deprived of husband, brother, and the only man she had ever loved. I arrived at the handsome residence, and upon asking fur its owner, waa ushered into the parlor. In a few moments a lovely little wo man entered the room, clothed in deep black. Her eyes were large and dreamy, and about the mouth rested a sad smile that added much to her beauty. "Col. Lafitte, I believe? I um happy to know you, sir, for the service you rendered your country.” "Thank you, Madam,” in answer to her compliment. "I am also happy In knowing you, for I have heard of you from a mutual friend.” " Indeed! whom, may I ask V” "One, Madam, you have not seen or beard from for many long and weary years. One who is as the dead to you.” "From Paul—oh, say you come from Paul, and I will bless you !” " I do. Madam.” " Oh, Col. Lafitte, tell me lie yet lives —that he is near me now.” " Madam, he does live, or did months ago when I met him,” I answered, and then I told her all. She listened without a word until I finished, and then asked me many questions, which I answered to the best of my knowledge. After a while she said : "Col. Lafitte, perhaps I should ex plain my position to you. I had loved Paul from my earliest recollection, and expected to marry him when he came home from college; but my brother came to me, and said our plantation was in volved iu a great degree, and to the father of the man I married, and urged me to marry Mr. L , for he was an only child, and would have all of hie father’s property. Paul was not rich, though in comfortable circumstances, and I was influenced, to save our home stead, to marry Mr. L , after writing to Paul, and receiving no answer. The letter my brother afterwards confessed he had never sent, and Paul arrived to find me married to another man. " He learned the particulars from his mother and sister, and at once sent my husband and brother a challenge. "They accepted, but with reluctance, for they felt they had wronged him.” "Well, they met; flrat my husband fell, run through the heart with Paul's sword, and then my brother shot through the brain. Paul left the country, and we all believed him dead, until your welcome news assures us of his safety. Oh, what a life has been his ! and yet, though I love him still, I cannot recall him with his hand red with my brother’s and- husband's blood. But give me his address, I can at least wpite, and say I forgive him.” She ceased, and for moments sobbed as if her heart would break; but then, recovering herself, invited me to remain to dinnor. I did so, and from' her house wrote my desert friend a long letter, telling him all I had done, and enclos ing the letters of his sister, and the one given me by Mrs. L . Pretty Logical, Snlnave, tbo colored gentleman who pre sides over the destinies of Huyti, ob jects to that othor colored gontlomun, T. if. Holllstor, as United Stutes Minister noar the Hayden Court. Snlnnve snys lie has as many blacks in his dominions as he is at present able to take care of, and thinks that if Grant really believes tbo negro to be the equal of the white man, he should send a darkey to England, or France, and n white man to Hayti. A pretty logical colorod individual is Salnuve.— Patriot. Public Deposits. Secretary Boutwell has issued an ordor directing that there shall bo no exchange of socurlttes to ensure the publio deposits jo national banks. The order Is based partly upon the grounds that as the seonrltles withdrawn are generally more valuable than thoae deposited, the security to the government Is practically weakened, and beoause of the additional risk incurred in handling and transporting the securities, besides the time of publio officers occupied in attending to those exchanges. Business AsvxETzsnmiTß, 113 a year per quar* of ten line*; stt per year tor each ad ditional s^nare. Heal ttvran Ajjv*»ttsu»o. luoeou a its* foi the arsVand£oeata tor each subsequent in sertion. Gnraux. AflfTxßrt*flCo7 cents a lies for the Bnt, andTototi tor mob sdbsSQueat lnser« Urn, RwnriT. notices inserted la Local Column 16 oenta per ilna. Bpxcxaii Koncas preceding marrtagas a*d deaths, 10 oenta per line tor first Insertion, and 6 oenta for every subsequent insertion*) t.mii. Ajto QTHtarfoTTfflca—» __ Kxeontors’ -.otin— —, 2JQ Administrators’ "irtlitw. . ,2JW Assignees' notloau,— . 2A> Auditors’ notices, 2.00 Other "Mottoes,” ten lines, or less, Z three t1me5,....~-....~~. ljso Hew* Items. Gen. Canby has assumed command of the Fret Military District. Ex-Governor Wise of Virginia is danger ously ill, and not expected to reoover. It la said that Gen. McClellan is soon to appear as a publlo lecturer. A suit in the English Court of Chancory, began in 1805, has Just ended. Angelo Bartillonl is a new violinist who makes a sensation in Paris. The New York polioe have oome down on the spiritual photographers. The widow of Gen. Bosseau is reported to be very poor in means. In a recent family separation in Ken tucky, the wife bought the children for twenty-five dollars. A rich Omaha merchant asked Anna Dickinson "What answer?” at Doe Moines, and she replied, No. Prentice says there are scores of political "rings” of every character, but that the greatest of all rings la Grant's family circle. Savannah, Ga., is going to have a baby show on the first of May, the Judges to Lh> voung unmarried men. The soldiers of the Army of the Potomac will give a grand pio-ulo In Now York next July. The voters of the Third Illinois district elect a successor to Mr. Washburne on the SthofJune. < Ten indictments are pending In the New Orleans Courts agaluat State Auditor Wlck lifie, of Louisiana, Five hundred American officers were cashiered during the fast year for dishon orable behavior, principally because they did not pay their debts. It was Artemus Ward who said, "If they’ll let me write the poetry to the Bald insville Eagle , I don't care a cuss who goes to the Leglulatur'.” There aro in Great Britain 6,208 coal mines. Thier product In 1807 was 104,500,- 480 tons, of which 277,170 camtrto North America. Another of Napoleon's old soldiers tiled recently, aged 95. Ho lived and died at Fredericksburg, Va., and was a basket maker. General T. L. Haywood, wDo was a member of Congress from Virginia previ ous to the rebellion, died in Richmond on Tuesday morning. Three hundred und three patents will ho issued tor the week ending ou Tuesday, the 27th Inst. Among the patents are live new styles of velocipedes. Secretary Boutwell has authorized the granting of leave of absence to Odd Fellows in the Treasury Department, to atteud tho celebration in Philadelphia. Pleasant for tax-payers— the utory of Brownlow, that the U. S. Treasury fur nished money to start his maniacal paper at Knoxville. It is one of the minor duties of the police of London to kick from the sidewalks the pieces of orauge peel that are carelessly thrown dowu by orange esters. The wisdom of withholding the Connect icut appointments until after tho election is manifest. There is a terrible bobble among the cliques of patriots. < At a recent frontier ball a half-bred bello appeared lu a hoop skirt, ornamented with fox tails, and waist of yellow flannel, slash ed with stripes of buffalo hides. Geriofat Canby has issued an order re quiring all persons elected to office lu Vir ginia, who nave not taken the oath, to do so now. It is said this will vacate rnuny o llices. ” For every office filled,” said Talley rand, “ I muko one Ingralo and fifty ene mies.” " For every offico lillod,” Grunt might add, " I make one rascal and live hundred enemies.” The 100 mile walklug match for $250 be tween Payne anil Westou wus decided in favor of Payne; time, twonty-two hours and fifty two minutes. Westou gave out on the ninetieth mile. Governor Randolph, of Now Jorsoy, In pursuance of an act of the Legislature, Ims appointed General Fitz John Porter, Win. Shipman and Beujumlu G. (Murk, Commls slonera to look after tho interests of tho' State In the Stevens Battery. The latest exploit of the Tennessee loyal militia was to tie u geutlemun by the thumbs to a telegraph pole for six hours because ho wanted to correct in pencil sev eral grammatical errors in a proclamation posted by one of tho militia officers. Mrs. Betsy Dodgo, a widow lady of TS years ot age, on Block Island, baa during the past year wove, In an old fashioned bund loom, 400 yards cotton and wool cloth and 891 yards carpeting, 'making in all 1,291 yards, besides doing all the work for her family. Nearly all the flouring mills in Mlncap olis uro closed for want of grain. The rail roads have had such a competition for the transportation of grain that most of it has been taken to the oast to bo ground, tliongh there are immense quantities still in store In other parts of Minnesota. Some thirty Northern gentlemon will start from Washington on the 21st Inst., to make a tour of the South for the purpose of pleasuro and investment. The party will consist of Hon. Kennedy Moorhead, ex- Govornor Ward of Now Jersey, Hon. Mor ton McMiebael, Colonel John W. Forney, Governor [Curtin, Clinton Lloyd, Hon. Churles Van Wyck and some twenty five olhois. State Items. Brooks, oue of tho Brodhoad murderers, is still at large. The Fishermen at Columbia are making fine hauls of shad. D. A. Bockley has been appointed post’ muster at Bloomsburg. A Dr. Hollister has written a history of the Lackawanna valley. Joseph Beacham has been appointed Postmaster at Tuscarora, Schuylkill co. The Stony Creek railroad is to be located and put under oontruot. It will run from Norristown to Lansdale. Rev. M. Meigs, D. D.. of Pottstown Pa., has resigned the U. S. Consulship, at Pir :«‘us, Greece, and will return home shortly. The new Lehigh county prison*!® finished and will be occupied Immediately. It con tains forty oella. Mad dogs are rife throughout the State. From every quarter we hear of their rav ages. The Radicals of Doylestown are not well affected toward the appointment of Widow Prizer as postmistress at that place. The Lehigh Valley Railroad Company at present runs seven dally trains between PltUton and Wilkeabarre. A four-legged chicken has been hatched in Columbia county, and it hops about on "all fours.” The Pennsylvania Railroad Company has founded a new town nine miles from Market street bridge, to bo called Byrn marr. The prospects for un immense ylold of wheat are exceedingly encouraging. Our State exchanges all speak in tbo most son lident strain of a promising crop. The Easton Argus says that tboro is an effort being made to defeat tbo confirmation of Mrs. H. Arndt, the soldier’s widow ap pointed postmistress at Huston. The Schuylkill Radicals are disgusted with Grant’s appointments of Colieolorand Assessor for that Congressional district both of.thern hailing from Lebanon county] Tho Pennsylvania Railroad Company will soon commence the erectlou of a new freight and passenger depot in Philadel phia. J ndgo Peter Horbine, of Columbia oonuty, was drowned, In the mill race at Siabtown, a few days since. It Is suspected that he was foully dealt with. William Heigana, of Windy Harbor, was killed tbe other day by agustofwind blow ing a bouse down upon him under which he was building a wall. York county boasts of au Irishman who Is tbe father of four children born on the Ist and two on tbe 3d of April—all in differ ent years. These are remarkable coinci dences. Colonel John R. Breilenhach, a renegade Democrat of Norristown, und Edward Rbne of Allentown, have been appointed collector and aasossor of tbe Sixth District, composed of tho counties of Montgomery and Lehigh. House Committees. The various committees of the Houso au thorized to tako testimony during tbo re cess have drawn from the contingent fund tho amounts ostlmatod for tho summer’s work which they havo been directed bv tho House to perform. The Committeeof Ways and Means meet May 12, In New York, and aftorsoveral weeks in the Eastern cities will go West to San Franolsoo. The sub committee of Elections, consisting of tbe Western members of tbo committee, moot in Now Orleans, on May f>, fo investigate the Louisiana cases. The sub-Cotnmittoe of the Judiciary meet in Montgomery, Ala., on tho 2-lth of May, to continue the Investigation of tbe charges against Judge Buateed, They bold a subsequent session in Mobile. The select committee on tbo ninth census. Mr. Garfield acting chairman, meet in Washington city May 26, and, after a fortnight’s session, will take testimony iu Philadelphia, New York and Pittsburg, The Committee on Foreign Afiblra, now in vestigating tbe Washburn-Paraguayan af fair, will continue their investigations in New York by a sub-committee. Mr. Orth, of Indiana, chairman of the aeleot oommlt tee on tonnage, will take testimony In New York, Boston and Philadelphia in Septem ber and October. Tbe sab-Committee on Elections, consisting of the Eastern mem bers of that oommlttee, will take testimony in South Carolina, in October and Novem ber, relative to the elections in that State.