3h« gajwasttt gwWUtgnww, Published sv*bt Wednesday bt * n. g. smith: « co. A. J. STEimcAiv H, G. SMITH, TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable in all eases In advance. The lU.WOABTEB DAILY l* published every evening, Bnnday excepted, at $5 per Annum in advance. “OFFICE—SOI BQUARB. OOBITXB 0* OXSTBS fodry. u ALL IN WELL.** In memory of Snntc B. WUmcr.by Ml » Fmma V. Wilton, 0/ pattern, Pa. y pg all Is well; no suffering now Shall ever cloud horsatntly brow; A o'own 01 life, a Heaven o! love, A mansion long prepared above, Are all bar gain. How often loving eyes have wept Whe.i death's cold wave still cio?er crep*; How often dying m pe grew bright ■When banished seemed the gloomy night. With all Its pain. But, when the Father's call was heard No fear was hers when came the word, No startled gaze, no anguished cry A glorious galti was hern to die. b b , With God her all. Yes, "all is well.” for Heaven has olalmed, Auo'her of Its dour rodeemed ; Her own sweet word* come back to cheer. Tho hyarts that sorrow for her here. *• All, all is well!” itUsceUancmts. ~ Behind a Sofa. I like to ureep away into corners and hide myself with the fold of a curtain, or half-open door, or behind one of the painted fire-screens, or in the shudow of the tallest furniture. There I have «Mld little fancies all to myself, and wish thiugsand dream things which nobody knows anything about, ror I tuu different from all the rest; my parents are lull and handsome, and Louise is the prettiest girl 1 ever saw. Then my brother Harry, who was kill ed In the Indian Mutiny, was like a prince In a fairy story, so brave and beautiful. But I! I am small and feeble. I cannot run or wrestle, and there la something growing on my shouldera which keeps me from standing straight, and they call me deformed. I shall never grow any more; strangers think me nine or ten years old, but when I count the years from the date In the family Bible, I 11 nd 1 urn sixteen. Peo ple always speak kiudly to me, with a great pity in their eyes, and once in a v/hilo I pity myself, but notofteu. I like to be this queer little ugure. Louise is like tiio lovely ladies in iegauds aud ballads, and I am like the Imps aud dwarfs ; when 1 read about them I look at myself in the mirror, aud make grimaces, and whirl' over on one hand and then on iho other, till Louise looks dibtre-ned and begs me to stop. Beiug whai I am, of course I don’t often go anywhere, okcopt in summer when we leave town; ho I romn all over the house, and read, and lie with my eyes shut for day-dreams, and merry aud happy almost all the time. i wish I were only six inches high, what fuu 1 would have in the world ! Then when we are in the country, i could ride on the birds’ banks, and down in the woods I could sit astride of the great lush toad . stools, and drink from acorns cups,—or by the sea shore 1 fancy I could lauuch n naughtilus and ’sail away like any grim littlo sprite. However, tu be four feet high has its advantages. When Harry wai wouuded, and lay iu the hospital, knowiug he must die, he wrute a lung letter to my father aud mother, full of grief, and comfort, too ; and then he told them a tiling which surprised them greatly, llow he was engaged to marry a girl in a town Iu which they had beeu quartered. How sweet and lovely she was, and how desolate she would be now; aud he want ed them to send for her, aud to love her like a daughter. I clapped my hands at that. I like to have people do things to interest me ; aud the idea of poor Harry having fallen in love ! For I know very well what love is: I have read the “i’aery tjueeu ” all through, and a great many romaucee. Aud some time ago I begun a sly watch oyer Louise, on account, of a certaiu Philip Rayburn comitur lo me house very ot ton. But about Harry’s lady-love. My mother does not like strangers very well, but being for Harry’s sake made a difference, und my father urged the plan. As for Louise, it seemed as if she could not be eager enough for the com ing of this Miss 1C in i 1 y Grey, she was, so determined to cherish and love her. For my part as home is all the real world’there is for me, I like to have as many characters iu it us possible. So ■when we heard that Kmiiy Grey was coming-to Kuglaud, we iuvited her to stay with us. She would not come at once. She was timid, itseemed ; orperhaps, Harry beiug dead, she would rather avoid his household. But Louise pleaded for her, and wrote her a great many loving let ters, and at last Kmiiy came. Emily came. The first evening when they brought her iulo the parlor, I was lying under the table with my head on a hassock, thiuttiug about the Old Man of the Sea in the Arabian Nights, aud wishing I had been one of the genii of those days. But when Emily entered I forgot everylhingelse, aud peeped out from under the table cover at her.— What a dainty little lady she was! so pale and slight, she made me think of frail, 11 uttering, yellow butterflies; partly, I suppose, because of her yellow curls, which fell over her shoulders when Louise look away her hat and shawl. Her eyes were wide aud pale, aud blue, her cheeks were colorless, and she had a frightened, deprecating way c.f looking up, even after my stately mamma had embraced her. But Louise kept about her, aud cheered her, aud lalked to her, till she began to look brighter. Louise was so different, 1 such a darling “nut-brown mayde,” with houest, darli rosy cheeks, and lips always ready to smile., Louise is my beauty. • My father and mother weut out alter a while, and Louise still talked to her o-uest, while I lay very eontcndedly on the floor, all curled up just where I could see all that passed without turn ing my head. Louise weut to an ctaycrc at the other end of the room to get a lit tle picture of Harry, and I idly kept watch of Emily. That momentshe in terested me ; her wide, pale eyes Darow ed and grew iulenst*, she cast a quick, furtive glance after Louise, and around the room, curving herlitile white neck, and a strange, bright smile flitted over her lips. 1 thought instantly of Coler idge’s Geraldine with the and just for fun 1 lifted the table-cover and put my head aud shoulders out so that she could see me. I am afraid I grinned at her. She shrieked aud flung her hands before Iter face. Louise came ruuning back, and asked what had frightened her. “Oh!” she whispered, “such a dread ful face peered at me from under the table! There it is again !” Aud she shuddered. , , , , “Charles!” exclaimed Louise, look- around, “come out, you naughty boy, aud speak to Miss Grey. It’s only my brother Charlie, our pet. He is full of freaks. Oue never knows where he is. ... .. ,Emily Grey looked at me like the saddest aud .veeleSHittle creature that • ever lived, as 1 up to her, and said, in a low, musical voice, “ So this is dear Charlie. I have heard of him. We will bs friends, won’t we?” “ Will you tell me stories? ” I asked. She laughed merrily. “ Yes, heaps of them, child.” “Did you love Harry ?” I asked again. She shivered at that, aud looked im ploringly at Louise. “Charlie, you are unkind,” said Louise, reproachfully. “Well then, I won’t ask her if 'fliie loved Harry I’ll go off aud read my book of hobgoblins.” “O no! dou’t be vexed, Charlie, saidEinlly, with greatsweetness. Stay by me, and I will tellyouastory. bo I stopped, and she told me a senseless story of two girls who went to school. When I saw it wasu’L going to amount to anything, I started to leave her. “ I don’t like that,” I said. ‘ I like witch stories.” • “Ah!” Bhe replied, smiling, “per haps this will be better.” And then she told me a story of an old witch who had a throne down in the slime of the sea, with a stjftug of bones arouud her neck, and a toad perched on each shoulder. And this witch bought souls, and gave people power over hearts in exchange. “That was a good story!” I said at tll “ And now, dear Charlie, go to bed," Louise directed. So I kissed my pretty sister’s hand and glided off. Emily very soon learned to be per fectly at home with us. She seemed to wind heisqlf about the hearts of my father and mother, and as for Louise, — Louise would have walked over burning plough shares to do her service. I liked her about half the time, and the other half I felt like teasing her. She would -'growso white and terrified when Isprang out at her from behind curtains or doors. More than ever I wished that I had fairy <El )( Lancaster frtOginM VOLUME TO power, to change myself into all eortß of J shapes,—a tiny flea to hop into her ear, 1 a yellow snake to twine myself with her 1 curls, a mouse to run over her pillow, J or an elf in her desk to open her letters! . She was such an absurd coward. But being four feet high and not a fairy, I . could only find my wicked pleasure in annoyiDg her by constant surveillance J and sudden starts. She seemed afraid to be angry with me, and never exposed me. Perhaps her conscience made her uneasy for my dear innocent-hearted Louise never was startled or terrified by her dwarf Charlie’s tricks. 0, slender, willowy Emily, yellow haired Emily, my brother’s darling! why were you not all Louise dreamed you, pure-fiearted and true, sorrowing and loving ? My father treated her as another daughter, and declared she should never leave us; my mother grad ually came to consult her exquisite taste in all little matters which Louise formerly decided. And at last they even insisted on herputtlng off the badge of her fidelity to Harry,—her mourning,— despite the sad little shake of her head in remonstrance. “fehe shall not make a nun of herself,” exclaimed my father. “ My heart will be in mourning all the time,’’she whispered to Louise; and Louise kissed her. Spring came, and our mother com menced nouse-cleaning on a grand scale; every room was visited, scoured, and painted, and the furniture re-arranged. How she made the Bervauts fly about! Every one wished it well at an end ; every one but me ; I found too much fun In it. I rolled over on mattresses ; made nests to curl myself up in among heaps of blankets; revelled in hidden relics brought to light; perched myself on cupboard shelves; read Gulliver’s Travels undisturbed in the pantry by a Jar of sweetmeats ; and a dozen times nearly tripped up our portly butler as he was carrying loaded tmys up stairs. When the raid extended to the sitting-rooms, I found unanticipated pleasure. The statuettes of bronze and marble had always looked at each other so unmoved from their dif ferent corners that it provoked me. I had read somewhere in a German story of a house where the China figures of a shepherdess and a chimney sweep v made love to each other when no one was In the room, and finally ran off together. I was alwayß hoping something of the kind might happen in ourart collection, and now, when all the casts and figures were set down in a crowd on the great centre table, it really seemed as if they could not keepsilence. At night, when 1 every one had gone to their rooms, a whim seized me to creep softly down stairs, and peep into tho drawing room to see what was going on among the brouzee and : marbles. The moonlight lay across the table, and Clytle un -1 changed never breathed or moved, though a bronze Pan made mute music ' on his pipes before her, as motionless as she. Fau9t did not kiss Marguerite ; and Mercury, poised on one toe, did not ' catch at the chance to substitute the other foot. Altogether tho assemblage was a failure. Have tho fairies, then, i never yet crossed the ocean from Ger -1 many? ' There was a low hum of voices in the 1 kitebeu below ; so, disappointed in my i miracle seeking, I thought I would slip \ down stairs, and see what was going on ' bo late. The butler, the cook, and the ’ chamber-maid, each stood, candle in ’ hand, lingering over some dispute. 3 “ Well, leastways,” said the butler, r “ Miss Emily have a very sweet man- J ner, and that’s all I know.” “ She have her own way, that’s whal she have!” said the cook. “Hum!” interrupted Kitty, “she makes cold chills run over me. She's windiog ’em all about her two little fingers, and she has the evil eye for certain. Mind you, she brings no good!” Next morning:, as I met Emily on the staircase, I stopped her and looked straight up at her face. “ What’s the matter now, Charlie?” she asked, with a toss of her yellow curls. “ I want to see you eyes ; please look at me.” , , “What for?” Bhe demanded, with out meeting my glance. “ Kitty says you have the evil eye for certain. What does she mean, Emily?” I asked, mischievously. “ I should think, Chariie, you might know by this time that what servants mean is not of the slightest impor tance.” And she moved haughtily by me. A week after Kitty was dismissed.— Louise pleaded for her in vain. She had lived with us for six years, and I asked my mother what fault' she had commit- ted. , , “Emily has discovered her in some dishonesty," mother said, quietly.' “I don’t know whatfl should do without Emily." Evidently Emily was quite usurping Louse’s place, but Lou didn’t seem to mind, and loved her just as well. One day I asked Lou if she wasn’t jealous. She blushed brightly, and said, with a shy smile, “Why, Charlie, if I should ever be leaving home, you know, I should feel so much better to have my place filled, so that they would not miss me!” “ I should miss you! I should miss you!" I exclaimed, clinging to her, and half crying. She bent and kissed me. “My darling boy, do you think I should not take you with me? We will never be parted, Charlie, I could not bear any one to take my place iu your heart!" I suppose when she spoke of leaving home, she was thinking of Philip Ray burn, fori had heard several little hints 1 and whispers lately, which made me pretty sure that some things were set tled between them ; and he came to the house oftener than ever. "’When the reception rooms were all ar ranged again.Jmy mother disposed of the furniture differently, moving chairs and tables aud sofas to quite different positions, Emily advising her. One great, richly carved sofa, with a high antique back, she insisted should be placed transversely across a corner. i‘ It looks so much easier than to have it stiff and straight by the side of the wall," she said. I chuckled to myself, for I foresaw a rare hiding place, which might remain unsuspected for a long time if I were careful; and the next chance I had, when no one was in the room, I collected a few things in that corner for private delectation. I put . the softest hassock there, and a Scotch plaid to lie on, one of my little chloro* form bottles which I keep to smell at when I am nervous, and some of my favorite books. Of course I could not read in there, but just the laying my hand or my cheek on a volume makes it seem like a companion, and brings its contents all into my mind. Such a snug little trlaugle as I made of it sha ded and secluded entirely by the high back of ancient carving, and the only light which could reach me there must crawl along the carpet, under the da mask and fringe. It was very satisfac tory, and all my own secret. Emily began to be invited every where; under mamma’s chaperonage society received her with open arms; I bouquets and cards of invitation kept our little waitress doing duty at all hours, and gentlemen made calls of an evening, Inquiring especially for Miss Grey. My mother scolded her for re ceiving them so coolly ; but, despite the coldness, Emily infused some nameless charm into her mannor which made them call again and again. It was during these days that Louise and Philip had a falling out; why, I did not know, but some trouble there evidently was. Louise grew sad and constrained, but made no confidant of any one unless it was Emily. I would have cut my right hand off at any time to serve Louise, but she never asked me to serve her. One day I heard her say to Emily, “ You see him when he comes this af ternoon. /cannot. And O, make him understand that I never could have written those dreadful letters, and tell him that I cannot see him till he has i faith in me again. It would break my heart to see distrust in his eyes. O Em ily !” And my bonnie Louise bowed her head and wept. It cut me to the heart, and I was so helpless to aid her! For the first time in my life I regretted my peculiar phys ique, for other brothers were expected to defend their sisters, and did it; hut what could I, a poor dwarf, do to bold, athletic, handsome Philip Rayburn ? I felt very ignominious, andcreptaway to my corner and my chloroform be hind the sofa for consolation, and there fell asleep in my misery. I awoke suddenly at last, hearing voices. lam always on the alert, and never startled into making a noise, so I lay perfectly still and quiet to hear what was going on. Emily Grey was talking to Philip Eayburn in her characteristic, low, sweet voice, and I coal'd imagine ju?t bow her lovely pale face looked with its great, sad blue eyeß, and her yellow curls floating over her Bhoulders. “It puzzles me so, 17 she said, hesi tatingly ; “I cannot bear to believe that Louise wrote them; and yet—what can I believe, Mr. Bay burn ? Odo not say you are pure of her guilt! ” “Miss Grey/' said Philip, sternly, “ your affection must not mislead you. The letters were sent from this house, and the writing is undeniably that of Louise. Bhe is afraid to meet the one she has so deceived and injured. Do not let your kind heart excuse her too far, Miss Grey ! ” , Emily’svoicetrembled asshe replied: “ 0 Mr. Rayburn, I can Dot bear it! To deceive you-you who are so true and noble! Bhe could not, indeed, shecould not! ” , __ Philip spoke in softer tones—“ You pity me, Emily ?” The world is not all false, then.” A moment’s silence ensued. O, if I could only have peeped out at them un seen, for I certainly believe that Emily bent her graceful head over Puilip’s hand and wept upon it. I was fierce with indignation, but perfectly collect ed. Perhaps the dwarf could help his darling, after all. Presently Philip rose to go. “ I suppose, then, we shall not see you any more?” murmured Emily, plain tively. How I hated that false, plain tive murmur I “Hardly again/’ he said gloomily. “And yet, Emily, I shall not lose your friendship. In ten dayß I will call and inquire for you, and give into your hands the letters which I have received from Louise, and then you can return them to her.” Then he went. As the street-door closed after him, Emily threw herself down upon the sofa, and with her face in the pillows, muttered very low, “I love him, and I shall win him now. And yet, his heart will never be really mino. O cruel fate! Why was Louise ever bom t.oßpoil the only love I ever cared for?” And she writhed upon the sofa in her malice, till she seemed to me like some creature possessed by a demon within, which raved and tore. I lay hidded away in my corner, with a volume pressed to my cheek. What was Emily plotting against my sister? I began to believe her capable of any Borgia scheme, and resolved to spy upon her unremittingly, aud foil herwherelcould ! How low I breathed, lest she, so near me, should catch a sound. Twilight shadows crept into the room at leDgth, and in them she floated away, and I presently emerged from my lurking place. How I wished I were an invisible gnome to chase her, and haunt her, and find out all her dark deeds! But I had to content my self with smearing phosphorus all over my face, and meeting her with a horrid grin in the unlighted upper hall when she came out at the ringing of the tea bell. It did my very heart good to see the white terror in her face as she crouched back in a corner to escape me. I had appointed myself a Nemesis to punish her, but she did not know that. I had noticed that wheD Emily went out alone to walk without naming her destination, she was always absent three or four hours. And the next day bringing au occasion of this kind, as soon as she wad safely down the steps, I went straight to her room and looked all about it. The white bed, dainty and pure, the drooping curtains, the books, were all correct and maidenly enough, but I was a detective for the nonce, aDd I passed them carelessly. A small desk-table fastened my attention; I attempted to lift the lid, but in vain ; it was locked. Still, the key, with a blue ribbon attached, rested in the key hole, and I tried to turn it to unlock the desk, but I could not move it—the wards did not fit. The key evidently was not put there to help prying fin gers. The next thing to do was to find the right key, and to that end I glanced curiously about. The recent reading of some of Edgar A. Poe’s strange analyti cal stories sharpened my perceptions to painful keenness. I threw my self down in Emily’s easy chair, and leaned my head back in a position I had often seen her adopt. Then I narrowed my eyes aDd compressed my lips as she did when thoughtful, think ing that so, perhaps, my mind might momentarily take the turn of hers, and give me some insight into the mode of concealment she would be likely to practice. With my head thus thrown back, my eyes naturally fell upon the cornice above the long lace window curtains, and I distinctly saw, half hid by a projecting gilded grape leaf, a bit of blue ribbon. Still keeping my fea tures after Emily’s fashiou, the thought suggested itself to me how natural it would be to put blue ribbon on each of the two keys, that a spectator might never know that more than one was used. Full of excitement, I sprang from the chair, and taking the long gas lighting rod which stood in the corner, I reached up and dislodged the bit of blue ribbon. As I expected, a key fell with it to the door. With trembling fingers I tried it in the lock ; it turned easily, and I lifted the lid. That way at last I discovered Emily’s treachery. There on sheets of paper were words and sentences carefully written and re written dozens of times, in evident imi tation of my sister’s hand. Cleverly done too. I looked them over hastity, and found beneath copies of two letters purporting to be from Louise to Philip Rayburn. I read them in a sort of de lirious glee, for now I held the clew to whole labyrinth in my hand. But what base letters! In them Louise was made to avow her falseness to Philip— to confess that she never really loved him—that ail had been a pretty farce to conceal her passion for another; that remorse had seized her, and a determi nation to be honest at length ; so now these letters begged him to set her free and to keep her secret. A shallow plot, indeed, which a few straightforward words between the two would have set right at once ; but Louise was proud aud Philip pitiless. Emily hazarded much, and had so far won, depending on the pride and the pitilessness. Then the handwriting! It would have deceived my own parents; but i_j j the cunuing dwarf—had fathomed the whole, and held the proofs -in my hand. Then curae the question, what to do with them ? If I took them away with me, she would discover the loss at once, and take measures accord ingly. Was the hour arrived for ex posure? I thought not. I determined to leave the papers, trusting to that fatuous blindness which so often leads criminals to retain the damning proofs of their guilt. The justice of romances suggested itself to my mind; you know the true will is always hidden some where undestroyed, the fatal letter al ways found, the deed or certificate lost for years, but not forever; and I felt sure these letters would wait for me.— Was I not the servant of Nemesis? So I relocked the desk, lifted the true key with its bit of blue ribbon to its hiding place behind the gilt grape-leaf again, and placed the false key with its bit of blue ribbon also in the lock. Then I crept away to think it all over. In the hall I met my sweet, sad Lou ise, with that new look of desolateness in her face. I kissed my hand to her.— She stopped instantly, and winding her dear arms around my neck, softly, “ You will always love me, won’t you, Charlie?” “ Yes, I will, and every one else shall too !” I answered stoutly, at which her smile was sadder than tears could have been, and she passed on. You may be very sure I kept close watch of the yellow-haired Emily dur ing the days which followed. Many a lone revery of hers had me for a specta tor, peering through the keyhole or the crack of a door, or with one eye bent on her from behind a curtain. I knew her reveries meant mischief. One afternoon my vigilance bad its reward. My moth er asked Emily if she would get her some violet silk when she went out, and Emily answered, sweetly, “I thought I should not go out this after noon. I have a headache, but rather than disappoint Of course my mother interrupted her with an assurance that she should not think of letting her go. A little after, I asked, just to see what she would say, “ Will you buy me a little ivory skull this afternoon, Emily, if I give you the money > There’s a man down an alley ■two streets off who carves such things.” ‘ I’m not going out, Charlie,” she answered shortly. _ , _ Under these circumstances I thought it best to be on guard in the drawing room, so went quietly down, climbed LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING AUGUST 11 1869 over the back of the antique sofa, and so down into my lurking place. There, with that horrible, fascinating book, "Frankenstein,” under my head, I lay dreaming and waiting. Presently the door bell rang, and Philip came, in quiring for Emily; only Emily. I heard her quick step on the staircase, and she glided into his armB —coold it be that it was into his arms ? A subtle, instinct told me that it was so. Philip’s voice was changed from the old light tones and there was do tenderness in it, though he called her “darling.” “Here is this package,” he said, “which I wish you to return to Louise with my forgiveness. She will soon Bee that her heartiessnsss has not destroyed my happiness!” and he laughed bit terly. “Dear Philip!” murmured Emily’s false, sweet voice. “ Emily, you are tbe only true womau I kuow, after all. My life shall be de voted to you.” “And you love me, Philip?” she asked longingly. “You know my love’s not worth much; such as it is no#, you mayhaye it, Emily,” and his tones were reckless. “Let us have it over at once. Can you be ready to-night at eleven ?” “ Yes,” she answered, breathlessly, will have a carriage here at that hour. When the clock strikes, you must come down to the door all ready. You will find me there, and I will car ry you away at once. A pleasant sur prise to Louise, to morrow morning, to find her lover so easily consoled! She hardly knows how frequently we have met.” “Do not marry moonly from pique!” said Emily, with a touch of sadness, .which was real, I think. * “I simply ask you, Will you marry me, Emily?” was all hisauswer; and Emily said “Yes,” without hesitation. I did not want to come out and de nounce them then and there; I had a better plan: so Philip' weut at last, no wiser than he came, and Emily fled to her'room, full of her plots; whilst I climbed up out of my ambush, and lay down as any one else might on the sofa, thinking my own thoughts. I wanted those letters now —quick too —how could I secure them? I oould think of uo opportunity until tea-time, unless for tune favored. Fortune did favorabout an hour after, for a young lady in silk and velvet came to call on Miss Grey. As the servant hesitated, not having received instructors, I called out from the drawing-room, “ Kraily is at home; she’s up in her room I’ll call her.” So the young lady swept in and took a seat. In high glee I went up to Emi ly’s room and rapped on the door. “Emily, there’s Flora McFlimsey down in the drawing room to see you!” “ Tell her I’m not at home, Charlie.” “ O, but I can’t, Emily ; I’ve already told her you were up stairs, aud that I would call you.” “ Then I suppose I must go down ! ” she said, in a tone of vexation, and came out, carefully closing and locking her door after her. So much the better! I knew another way to reach her room— by going through my mother’s, aud my mother had gone herself for her violet silk, so there was no danger of being waylaid. This plan succeeded, and I stepped boldly into the pretty chamber, where a subtle perfume of heliotrope pervaded the air. Emily had laid out all her dresses on the bed, and her trunk was open. I wondered if she would have the effrontery to send for it some time. But my business was with letters, not dresses, so I sought the little desk table ; the true key was in the lock this time, and in a moment I pbosesseii my self of the fatal documents. How fortu nate that Flora came just at that time, for it might be that Emily was just about unlocking that desk to destroy the papers ! My heart beat fast with excitement as I left the room again, by the same way that I entered, and I has tened to my own little den, a flight above, and bolted the door after me. Then I sat down and wrote a letter to Philip Rayburn, telling him all I had heard, and all I had done, enclosing the sheets of paper as proofs. I felt very manly at lust, so to vindicate my sister’s truth ; and it made me smile to be able to write that I expected him to apolo gize fully to Louise, and after that uever to darken our doors again. 1 finished the letter, seuled it, coaxed the butler to deliver it at once into Mr. Rayburn's hands, and had ten minutes to compose myself before Emily politely attended her visitor to the door. Then she flew up to her room again. My spirits ran so high I oould hardly keep from shouting my secret aloud. I found Louise setting lonesomely in her chamber, like “ Mariana in the mortal grange," and I kissed her hand again and again, telling her I would set every thing right, while she looked at me kalf-fr.ightened, and wholly puzzled. Then I Imitated an Indian war-hoop at Emily’s keyhole, and as it grew darker lay in wait for her behind an open door, and sprang out at her when at last I heard her gliding step. I liked to see her shrink and shudder. At tea she was pale and thoughtful, while my father and mother and Louise grew kinder than ever, heaping her plate with delicacies, and delighting to pet her. But I took no trouble to pass her anything but strawberry jam, which I knew she hated. The night clear—there were stars in the heavens. After tea we all went into the parlor, Emily played and sang. andchatted,wltb now aud then a restless glance at the clock on the mantlepiece. At ten she said she would retire, and bade us all “good-night.” That was the signal for a general departing, and before long I was going up stairs noisl ly, so that Emily might hear me aud think all were out of her way at last. But no sooner had I slammed my door than I turned again, and crept down stairs quieter than any mouse, past all the sleeping rooms, down to the draw ing-room, and there I waited in the dark. I always liked to stay in the dark, imagining grotesque creatures in every corner unseen, and there I lay on the sofa very contentedly, hearing the clock tick and my heart beat. At last I became conscious by some instinct finer than hearing, fhat Emily was coming down from herroom. The clock chimed eleven, and I began to fear my plot would fail, for why was there no word to me from Philip? How softly Emily glided down, like some impalpable presence ! She stood hesi tating an instant on the lower stair, when the door bell rang a peal which startled all the sleepers. I ran out with a shout. Emily would have fled from me, but I caught her hand and dragged her to the door, which I opened. There stood Philip Rayburn, his eyes ablaze with fierce in dignation, grasping the fatal letters in his hand. He held them up before Emi-! ly; he compelled her to recognize their meaning; then casting them ather feet with a gesture of utter scorn, he strode into the parlor, drawing me with him. I was proud then, as I collected all my four feet high dignity, and called him to account. He did not notice my man ner though, he was too full of wrath and grief and contrite love. I almost began to pity him at last, but remem bered that would never do, so I told him that I accepted his apologies, but he must never insult us by his presence again. That moment Louise came in hurriedly, looking terrified andperplex ed. “Where is Emily, Charlie? Who rang the bell, and why is the door open ? O Philip." “ I will go and find Emily,” I said. “ I will leave you with Mr. Rayburn. He has a confession to make to you, Louise, and after that you will forbid him the house!" Emily was not to be found. I hunted for her above and below, but she was gone. The hall-door still stood open.— She had fled away with her guilty con science under the keen eyed stars. So I went back to the parlor without her; Louise and Philip were at the door. “I will come early to-morrow," he said, smiling brightly, and Louise smiled brightly too. “What! have you not forbidden him the house?" I exclaimed. “No, Charlie! That I cannot do!" And with an astonishing lack of spirit she let him fold her in his arms. I have decided to have nothing more to do with my sister’s love affairs or the family dignity. My little part is play ed, and now I will hide away 'behind the curtain with my dreams of faries and elfs. The Chairman of the regular State Com mittee of Texas has written to Mr. Clafiin, chairman of the National Republican Committee, asking him not to recognize the Houston party, wbloh nominated Gen. Davis for Governor. , 1 Bar-Keeper for a Day. HaviDg occasion to visltadistantsec tlon of the Union a few years since, I purchaised a through ticket for C , Snd was soon seated in a car already well filled with passengers. The steam Bebemuth was soon dragging us alone at lightning Bpeed. The Joint occupant of the seat which I had selected was a man past the me ridian of life, his hair well streaked with gray. His easy deportment and the few remarks which he addressed to me on the ordinary topics of conversa tion, at once bespoke the well-bred gentleman. In the course of our con versation he informed me that he was a physician, and, glancing at the card which he politely handed me, I at once recognized the name as that of one of our moßt famed practitioners. He had traveled much; and being well read his conversation was instructive and enter taining in the extreme. Time passed Bwiftly, and almost be fore I was aware of it the train had stop ped at L , to lay over fifteen min utes for refreshments. My new found friend and myself alighted from the cars and entered the restaurant located alongside the depot. As the day,was a very warm one, and the riding very dusty, I called for some light beverage, and invited my companion to join me. While we were lmbibingour ‘ eoblers, 1 I was much amused at the bar keeper s manner of concocting “ fancy drinks,” tossing the contents from one glass to another with marvelous precision and dexterity. The dootor noticed my ab straction, and remarked, in a tone ot seriousness: “ I once tended bar, myself.” I was about making some answer in dicative of surprise, when the bell ad monished us that the train was about to start. We hastily regained our seats, and he related to me his experiences as “amemberof the bar,” in the following words: “ Many years ago, when I was young and poor, I found myself in the city of New York, friendless and alone. The sole passport which I possessed to fame and fortune was the diploma in my pocket, which had justbeen award ed to me at the Medical College.— My father, a resident or town, died poor. The sole legacies which I inher ited were a good name and a liberal ed ucation, which he had beßtowed on me from his limited income. ‘I hired modest apartments with board, in a somewhat retired portion of the city, and displaying an unpreten tious sign on the door of my domicil, patiently awaited for such business as chance might throw in my way. Week after week rolled on, but I soon found out that patients are seldom willing to trust their cases in the hands of young and unkuown practitioners. At last I found myself without a dollar, and sev eral weeks in arrearage for board. Something I had to do , employment of i some kind I must obtain. I answered advertisement after advertisement, for such positions as I considered adapted to my tastes and qualifications, but all to no purpose. One morning my eye caught an advertisement for an a-*Ut ant bar-keeper in afirst class bottl—the occupation was as little congenial to my tastes as it was repugnant to my feel ings ; but it was a choice between work of some kind, or ,beggary. The adver tisement laid stress upon the fact that 'the applicant must be a man of gentle manly address.' This was about the j Bole qualification which I possessed for I the position. _ j " At an early hour I applied at tho i Diace indieati Jn the advertisement, and franmy ata..>d my poalll,„ l- ll.« proprietor ; he at once made mean offer, and though not a very brilliant one for a college graduate, who had devoted three years to the study of a profession, j yet, having fresh in my mind my land- , lady’s peremptory demand for a quid pro quo , with an intimation that if it was not forthcoming I must find other quarters, which ‘ other quarters ’ would have been the sidewalk, or the poor house, I at once accepted the proposal, mentally offering up a prayer that some fortuitous circumstance might Bpeedily | change my lot, and permitof my follow ing my legitimate vocation. “ The first day woreon to a close with the usual highly moral and intellectual episodes in the daily routine of the retail liquor business, but, as I had no friend in the great city, I was spared the hu miliation ot commiserating remarks on the part of sympathizing acquaintances. It was getting close on to midnight, and the patrons of the establishment had dropped off, one by one, when two young men entered the place arm in arm. The elder of the two was evidently laboring under intense mental anxiety, and his unsteady step showed but too plainly that he had been drinking deep ly. The younger one was a mere strip ling, and the striking resemblance which they bore to each other, at once proclaimed them to be brothers. The | younger of the two was evidently en deavoring to soothe and cheer his senior brother. I heard him say as he entered : *' ‘ For God’s sake, Jack, don’t take on so about it! Perhaps it’s not so bad after all.’ “The other answered, as his frame shook with emotion: “ ‘ Lost, boy ! I tell you every cent is gone to h 1. You are a beggar, and your brother has made you one.’ “The conversation went on a few moments, and in an excited undertone on the part of the oldest brother. The lad appeared to yield to the other's im portunity to take a‘last drink,’ evidently with the hope of somewhat quietiDg his almost phrenzied companion. “The two came up and ordered ale. While I was drawiDg it off, the younger of the two stepped to the end of the counter to get a cracker, and as I placed the two glasses on the bar, neither of which were quite full, the remaiuing brother took a powder from his vest pocket and poured it in his glass. I asked him what he was about. He an swered : . ‘“Oh, it’s only a nervine. I have been on a week's spree, and must steady my nerves.’ “ The explanation seemed quite na tural, and disarmed my suspicious at once. At this moment the younger brother returned, and noticing that the glasses were not filled, said to me: “ ‘ Barkeeper, fill the glasses entirely. Brother and I will then go home.’ •‘I immediately took them off the pouuter and filled them to the brim ; but in handing them back, I inadvert ently changed the glasses. I was about to rectify my mistake, when a party of jewelers came in boisterously demand ing my immediate presence at the oth er eud of the counter. Ere I could return, the brothers had" emptied their glasses to the dregs. As It was now too late, and knowing that the nervine would produce no bad results, I said nothing but took the proffered bill, and returned the change: The brothers took a couple of chairs, and seating them selves, were soon engaged in earnest con versation. As the place was now desert ed, save by thepe two occupantß and | myself, I had time to observe them more closely. All of a sudden the boyish face assumed alivid expression. Hiafeatures twitched convulsively, and in another moment he fell to the floor, appareutly a corpse. His terror-stricken brother appeared paralized with horrifledamaze meDt. To spring over the bar was the work of an instant. I seized the survi vor by the arm, and shaking him with rude force, shouted in his ear : “ ‘ Wretched man ! what did you put in the glass which I first handed you V “ He answered, mechanically: *• ‘ Strychnine.’ “ Not a moment was to be lost. I re collected that fortunately I had about me a pocket-case, which contained the necessary antidotes, which I at once proceed to administer. “ The elder brother now roused to a state of conscious guilt, exclaimed in accents of despair and remorse: ‘“Great God! my darling Will has been first ruined, and then murdered by his unfortunate and guiity brother.’ “ He knelt by the side of the prostrate youth, and supporting his head, begged me in piteous accents to save the life of his only brother, calling on Heaven to spare him from the crime of fratricide. The prayers of the repentant man were heard, and the innocent victim of a suicidal mania (for there is not a single case of suicide where reason has not been unseated from her throne, though ‘there be method in the madness,’) was soon sufficiently racovered to allow of his removal in a carriage. At the earnest solicitation of the now grateful J , I accompanied the brothers to their home. All night I watched by the side of my patient, whose fate still hung in an al most evenly poised balance. I carefally administered, from time to time, such medicines as the case required, and never shall I forget the mental agony >•* r 2 -y of the man who had bo nearly stamped upon his brow the brand of Cain. He wept and prayed by turns. Again and again would he cover his young bro ther's brow with kisses, and in accents of sincere and heartfelt penitence, in voke forgiveneass. The sick boy an swered with a silent pressure of the hand, and the fond look of fraternal af fection, which beamed from his deep biueeye9, told more plainly than words could express, that all, all, was forgiven When morning dawned I bad tbeeati9 faction of knowing that my patient was out of all danger, and would, ere long, be as well as ever. “In reply to their questions as to hbw I became sufficiently acquainted with the practice of medicine to handle such a critical case, and prove the providen tial fact of my having the antidotes so near at hand, I, in a few words, told the story of my ill success in obtaining Eractice, and the dire necessity which ad driven me to accept employment as a bar-keeper. In turn the brothers made a confidant of me. “Their father, a widower, bad died a twelfth month before, leaving behiDd him some twenty thousaud dollars, to be equally divided between his two sons, making the elder his sole execu tor and guardian totheyounger brother, The brothers were fondly attached to each other; aDd the older one, with a view of increasing their Joint capital, had invested the whole amount In a stock mining operation. The lead mine had suddenly failed to yield, and the shares had fallen to a merely nominal value at the Btock board. With ruin staring him In the face, and the con sciousness of having beggared an oDly and dearly-loved younger brother, he, in a moment of mad phrenzy, had re solved on suicide. The two pressed upon my accepting a handsome fee, and insisted that I should at once renounce a calling so little suited to my tastes, with the as surance that they would at once obtain for me a situation in a wholesale drug house—the j unior partner of the concern being an intimate friend of theirs. “ I indeed hardly say that I was too happy at having an opportunity to change my vocation, and that Bame day I entered on my duties as a clerk with the house of H. D. & Co. Through the personal exertions of my uew friends, (who moved in the very first oircles of society), I was introduced to an exten sive circle of acquaintances, and erelong was enabled to again follow a profession to which I bad always been devotedly attached. ‘•By a sudden turn of fortune, the brothers were relieved from all embar rassments of a financial nature. In sink - a shaft, the miners unexpectedly struck a rich vein of pure ore, which caused the price of stocks JO rise to a fabulous premium. They sold out at the right moment, and the result left them far richer than their most saoguine antici pations could have hoped for.” The doctor concluded with this re mark : “I have‘never been called in to attend a case of mania-apotu, (and I have seen hundreds of cases of that fearful dis order) but my mind would naturally revert to my experience as a “Bar keeper for a Day.” Splendid Picture of an Iceberg. From last week’s issue of that excel lent illustrated paper, Appleton’s Jour nal, we take the following magnificent account of an Iceberg by Dr. I. I. Hayes. The Dr. is now oa Lis way to Greenland on another voyage of dis- covery : TUo lusbei e lo tUo Urgoot I^JoponJ. ent floating body in the universe, ex cept the heavenly ores. There is noth ing approaching it, within the range of our knowledge, dn this globe of ours; and yet it is, as we have seen, but a fragment of the ico stream, which is, in its turn, but an arm of the ice sea. And yet the iceberg is to the great quantity of Greenland ice as the pariog of a Au ger nail to the human body ; as a small chip to the largest tree; as a shovelful of earth to Manhattan Island. Yet I magnify the bit of ice in your tumbler until it becomes, to your imagination, a half a mile in diameter each way, aud you have what may be sometimes seen. I have sailed alongside of an iceberg, two miles and a half, measured with a log line, before coming to the end of it. The name signifies, as we have seen before, ice mountain; and it Is truly mountainous size. Lift it out of the water, and It becomes a mountain one thousand, two thousand, three thous and feet high. In dimensions, it is as if New York city were turned adrift in the Atlantic, or the Central Park were cut out and launched in the same place An iceberg of the dimensions of the Central Park is far from usual. And its surface is not in form unlike it either. It is undulating like the Park, and craggy, aud crossed by ravines, aud dot ted with lakes—the water of the lakes being formed from the melting snows of the late winter, and also of the ice itself-after the sdowb have disappeared before'the influence of the summer’s sun. I have even bathed in such a lake although I am giad to say but once, and was in “those days of other years,” when the youthful insanity iB strong to say , “ I have done it”—a disease which I believe to be amenable only to that treatment popularly Known as “ sad experience.” Stating on an jceberg late is far more satisfactory and sensi ble. . He thus describes an iceberg which he explored : This berg was not only remarkable for its great size, but for its great variety of feature. We rowed all the way around it, and measured it carefully. Ohe of its sides was nearly straight and regular, having the appearance of being broken away from something—a frac ture look. This was evidently the side which was attached to the glacier. Facing the sun, it glistened marvel lously. This side was six thousand five hundred feet long. At one end it was two hundred and forty feet high, rising squarely from the sea. At the centre the height was less, being only a hun dred and sixty feet. At the farther end, it was a hundred aud ninety. These measurements were made with as much accuracy as was possible un der the circumstances, and they are quite reliable within small limits. The log line and chronometer were of ne cessity the means of determining the length. By dropping the “chip” at the foot of the berg, and then rowing out a hundred fathoms, I obtained a tolerably accurate base line, for ascer taining the altitudes—a pocket sextant giving me the necessary angles. By the same method I found the end of the berg to which we came, after meas uring the side, to be eighteen hun dred feet across. This terminated in a rounded bluff. Turning here, we came upon aside wholly different from the one we had before measured. It had evidently been for a long time the glacier front—for a period of perhaps fifteen or twenty years at the least. It was most irregular. In places it was cliff-like; as the other, but for themost part it was worn into all sorts of irregu lar shapes. This had been done partly by the washings of the sea, and partly by the streams of melted snow which, in the summer time, poured over the glacier. Thus there were bights eaten into it that were large enough to float a frigate. In one place there was a con siderable bay, with two Islands in it that were very peculiar. Around thiß bay we pulled, and in the valley cr rather gorge, at one angle of it, I land ed, and, with sharp spikes in my heels, and a short boat-hook In my hand, I climbed up to the summit of the berg. Its surface was rolling, uneven, and craggy. There were two conspicuous hills upon it, one of which was two hundred and ninety, the other two hundred and seventy feet above the sea-level. Between these hills, and among others less conspicuous, I discovered a winding lake at least a quarter of a mile long—the water being formed from the snows of winter, which, melting with thesummer’s sun, had trickled down the icy hill-Bidesand gathered in the valley. Following along the margin of this singular and beauti ful lake, I came at length to its outlet, where, thrqugh a gorge, poured the superabundant crystal waters over a crystal bed In a rapid torrent, until, coming at length to tbb side of the berg, the stream leaped wildly down into the ocean, roaring like a young Niagara. On every side, indeed, there were streams, many of them very small, hur rying to the ocean, and dropping from the roof of the iceberg like the waters from a house-top, on a warm day fol lowing a heavy fall of snow/ I wandered about among these icy hills until I really grew bewildered, and found my way to the exact place of my assent, not without embarrassment.— The cause of this was partially explain* ed: I had kept my eye upon the Bun, while the icebergs waa turning round beneath my feet. It had probably grounded on one corner, and the cur* rent was slowly swinging it around up- ; on a pivot. Before this, however, I had i climed the loftiest hill. The view was superb—distant, as from the summit of Staten Island, and over a sea where icebergs lay scattered like mammoth diamond set in a waste of lapis lazuli. Nor was the neighborhood devoid of life. A hock of Kittiwakegulls flew up from the sea, and perched themselves upon the hill, and then Bet up their noisy chatter; and one old burgomast* er, who had caught a 'llsh, oame there 1 to swallow it in peace; but, to his evi dent surprise and sad disgust, be was suddenly pounced upon by a predatory ( jager, who had seemingly been hover* ing round for just such a chance, and with an angry scream the burgomaster, dropped the prize. It. was altogether a most strange sen sation —afloat aLso great an elevation, on an ice-mountain in the sea. Yet my footstool was Arm and solid as the eternal hill. If time and circumstances had per mitted, I would gladly have brought up my tent and camp iixtnres, and have slept and lain there for a day or so, watching the grand panorama of the hills and sea around, while the sun, like a golden wheel in the blue sky, rolled round aud round me, never setting, but changing from hour to hour the aspect of every object within the raDge of vis* ion—now silvering an iceberg, now col* oring It, now flaunting it in blue and now in green ; now biazlng with red the ragged cliffs of the flord; now throwing them in shadow, as If Lhey were thegloomy wall encompassing the abyss of Daute’s giants; now gilding the distant mountains; now robing them in purple; now whiting the far-off ice-sea; now making it a sea of rubleß; then blending it with the blue sky. Butthis camp-llfeon an ice-berg could not be, so I returned to my boat, and continued my survey of the floating mountain. Firßt I had explored the bay where I had landed. The bottom of this bay was the sloping ice, shoaling gradually as we went farther in, thro* a distance of a hundred yards; and, as I looked down over the side of the boat on the ice beneath, through what was at first a few fathoms, but finally only a few inches of water. I thought I had never seen so soft and exquisite a color, or one so perfectly graduated in its various tints, oo the liquid green through which we sailed. The islands in the bay, which I have spoken of be fore, were but two hummocks that rose a few feet above the surface—as Govern or’s Island and Ellis Island in New York harbor. Leaving the bay, we continued our course, past broken-down turrets and dismantled towers, and ruined Spires, between which lay huge clefts filled with a deep chameleon light, and great caverns of Cimmerian darkness, in which the slow-moving billows were caught and confined, until, tired of their imprisonment, their hollow voices came gurgliDg out as the loud breathing of some mighty monster of the deep who Was exhausting his feeble efforts to move the great mountain from his path. This side was six thousand feet in length. The other end was thirty-five hundred. Thus, in making the com plete circuit, we had pulled almost three and a half miles. I averaged the whole altitude at a hundred ana eighty feet above the spa-level. This would give a total average depth of fourteen hundred and fortv feet—between a quarter and a third of a mile. Multiply iucae dimen sions together, and we get 23,850,000,000 • of cubic feet. Convert this into tons, and all the ships in the known world are nothing to it. Convert it into mo ' ney, and at the present rates for the skimmiDgs of the Boston ponds, you have the national debt. It is only by Buch figuring that we can form anything like an adequate idea of the enormous vagrant ot' the polar seas. Its beauties are not so easily ( defined. A solid and a mighty, it Is j yet a subtle object. Its side is blazed i with crimson, and gold, and purple. < Here we see the enamel, there the chal- < cedony; transparent quartz in one < place, sapphire and the flashing ruby in another. ' , These varying colors, as seen In the sunlight, are due in a measure to its : parallel lines of stratification, which : are faintly perceptible, and which, like ■ the multiplied rings of the old forest ; oak, round the long period of years or ages through which it has gone on, slowly growing in the parent glacier; partly to the Irregular form of the frac tured surface, the myriad of reflecting faces placed at all angles, to the sun and to the light; partly to the sunlight dissolving in the sharp prisms of its sides, and stealing through the mist and spray of the falling waters, flinging here aud there the tender colors of the rainbow, along the pure, clear surface of its glistening walls ; and partly to the waters of the sea, in which it floats sometimes green, sometimes blue, al ways wondrously clear, and always mirroring the giant-that it floats —its sublime proportions,* its crumbling ruins; its cascades, and the light which flickers round it—while bearing it aloft in triumph, and while the laughing waves, encouraged by the sun, leap round and kiss it gently, and with each touch steal away the crystal particles which were theirs of old and are theirs ofright. , lt _ More than this I cannot say for the floating mouutain. Words fail us ut terly in tbe description of such a mighty work of Nature —fail us, as do the col ors of the painter. Who can paint or who describe theleapof Niagara, or the roar that rises from the great abyss. , The iceberg, in its growth, and birtb, and immeneity, is tbe nearest parallel. And what pen can describe or pencil ) paint its age? How long since its crys , Lais were anow-flakes, dropped by the , air upon a Greenland mountain-top? I It was not a few years or even centuries 1 ago. Its existence on tbe earth in the • tbe great ice sea and stream has been longer than that of the whole human i race, from the birth of Adam. A Lawyer’s Romance. Roswell M. Field “ the Nestor of the Missouri bar,*'a lawyer whose entire lack of ambition lost the fame his rare aud great ability might have won, died in St. Louis on Monday. He had a pe culiarly romantic episode in his early manhood. He was the son of Gen. ilartin Field, of Newfane, Vt., and j practiced law awhile in the courts o£ bis ; native county. His abandonment of his lucrative practice and removal from the State, to which he never returned, was occasioned by an unfortunate be stowal of his affections, under circum stances rarely, if ever, paralleled. He fell in love with an accomplished young lady in Windsor, and though she was engaged to another gentleman, suc ceeded in winning her affections and inducing her to join him in a secret marriage, which was to be followed by cohabitation in case the consent of her parents could be obtained, but other wise to be void. She failed to gain that consent; and as soon as he could be summoned from Boston was publicly married to her first love, who joined her in a suit in chancery against Mr. Field for the dissolutiop of the secret marriage. Both she and her suit survived her bus* band, but *t last she won it in the Su preme Court and the case is reported at length in the thirteenth voliimeof Ver mont reports, Mr. Field felt sorely ag grieved at the result and issued a pamph let in which he sought to vindicate him self before the world. Afterward, how ever, he married another lady with whom he lived happily. She baa been dead several years, and four children we think suryive them both. Years after the strange suit, the lady whom he first loved and then fought so persistently, then twice a widow, married a mer chant of Windsor county. who shortly thereafter removed to St. Louis. There I they lived for several years, moving in I the first circles (though never meeting Mr. Field) and where she died sudden ly, of heart disease, about four years | since, beloved by all who knew her. Terrible Accident In a t'oal Mine. The Atlantic Cable brings the following: Dresden, Aug. 3.—A dreadful accident occurred yesterday in tttß coal mines in the mountain districts near the city. Over three hundred men were killed outright. No particulars are given, but the accident is said to have been attributable to the stormy weather. The accounts of the explosion of the mines have not been examined. Three hundred and twenty*ODe dead have been counted. The scenes in the neighborhood are heart rending. NUMBJiIi :2 Intelligent. A Sketch of Lancaster. One of the editorial corp 3 of the Philadel phia Ledger visited our city on Saturday, and Monday's issue of that paper contained the following sketch of Luncuster: The city of Lancaster is admirably s*tn ated on the line of the Pennsylvania Rail road and near the Conestoga creek. It is about 70 miles west of Philadelphia, and 37 mllea E. S. E. of Harrisburg. It was for many years the largest inland town in the United States, and was the seat of the Stute Government from 1799 to 1312. The Cones • toga creek rnns a short diataoco in the city limits and within a low hundred feet of one of the principal streets. From this point to where It enters the Susquehanna, at Safe Harbor, is, by the course of the stream, 19 miles, which in 1826 was mode navigable for small craft, by means of dams and locks. By tills route, as well as by the railroad to Columbia, a distunoe of 12 miles, great quantiliea of lumber nud coal are brought to Lancaster. The oldest turnpike In the Uuited Slates has its west ern terminus here, and connects it with Philadelphia. The streets of the city are generally straight, crossing each other at rlgnt angles and mostofthem are well macadamized. — The greater part of the town is substantial* ly built of nrlck, and ibo more modern houses are commodious and elegant. Great improvements have beeu made within the past twenty years, in the business portion of the city, by tho erection of flue stores, introduction of gas, Ac. Tho principal pari of the city is elevated about IUO teet above the Conestoga, from which tho supply of water la drawn, and raised by rauehtnory to large reservoirs. The water works, which were commenced in 1835, have cost over $150,000. There are two basins connec ted with the" works, capuble of holding 7,000,000 gallons of water. , Among the public buildings In Lancas ter, the Court House may bo classed as the most Imposing. It stands on the northwest corner of East King und Duke streets, and has a front of 72 feet, aud|u depth of 1(14 feet. The basement is built of sandstone, and tho superstructure of brick, covered with mas tic. From the contral portion of tho roof rises a cupola, in which is a clock with four faces. A statue of Justloe is pluoed upon the summit. Tho original cost of tho Court House, with furniture, was $1(5(3,000. Tho corner stono was laid 1352, und it was occu pied In 1854. The old gaol, famous as scono of the inur der of the Conestoga Indiana iu 1703 by the Paxton boys, was takon down in 1851, and Fulton Hall, one of the most elegant build ings in the interior of the State, occupios its site. This hall is used for concerts, theatrical performances, Ac. The present county prison is a large castellated building of red sandstoue. Its tower, 110 feet high, is the first object which strikes tho eye of the traveller approaching Lancaster. It cost $llO,OOO. The government of the prison is conducted upon the principle known as the Pennsylvania system—tire convict being consigned to separate and solitary coubne ment. The number of persons committed to the prison during the past year was 1052. The profit of the labor of tho prisoners was $3 813 32. The Hospital and Insane Asylum wore authorized by acta of the Legislature in 18(35 and 18GG. The buildings are large, and coat $55,000. A Houso of Employment and Sup port for the Poor was established hero in 1798. The buildings are couveuiently ar ranged for the boarding and lodging ot the •inmates, and provision is also made for strangers who are suddenly takeu 111. The county is also proprietor of a tract ot land Containing 197 acres, which is iarmed by the inmates of the Poor House. The Orphan Asylum of Lancaster was founded in 1849, and has now 14 orphans, 12 being soldiers orphans. The Home for Friendless Chil dren was established in 1859; the present Home having been found inadequate, a | new and large building is being erected, that will accommodate 150 children. On the organization ot Lancaster county in 1729, and the removal of the seat of jus tice from Conestoga in 1730, the city took it* nama. It WAJI cburterOti IMA » borough in 1742, and made a city In 181 S— . 1777 Congress Bat here for a few days. From 1799 to 1812 It was the capital of tho State. The county of Lancaster has an urea of 950 square miles, the Suaquehaoa river forming its boundary on the southwest, and the Octorara creek on the southeast. The eurfuce is uneven, South Mountain extend ing along the Northwestern frontier, and Mine ridge passing through the southeast ern part The surface between these moun tains is undulating and traversed by many small streams. The soil is a rich calcareous loam, and blue limestone, roofing slate, marble and magnesia, are found in the county. The population is dense, aud the value of its agricultural products not equalled by any county in the State. Franklin College, in Lancaster city, was founded in 1787, but subsequently declined. The institution was afterwards united with Marshall College, and is now known as Franklin and Marshall College, and the present buildings were dedicated in 1856. The institutions of learning at present are: St. James’School for Young Ladies; the Conestoga Collegiate Institute for Girls, and the Public Schools, attend ed in IS6B and 1889, on an average, by 2310 pupils. A year ugo, a German aud Eng lish school was organized for the benefit of such of the citizens as desired to havo their children instructed in tho German lan guage. There is also au African school. There are two libraries, the Mechanics’ and the Athenißum, the first having nearly 4000 volumes and the latter some 3000. Tho Linncen Society was instituted in 1862, for the cultivation, development und advunco ment of natural science, aud to investigate the character, habits, Ac., of animals, plants and m nerals of the county. ' The first newspaper iu this city was pub lished in 1751, by Miller & Holland. The second was the Lancaster Journal, pub lished in 1794; it was continued until 1839, when it was merged in tbo Lancaster In telligencer, now published as a daily and weekly, which was established in 17'J'J. The others papers now issued in this city aro the Lancaster Express (daily and weekly), Lancaster Examiner and Herald (semi weekly), Der Volksfreund und Boobacter, Lancaster Inquirer, Church Advocato, Father Abrabain, The Good Templar, The Mechanics’ Advocate, Pennsylvania School Journal, The Guardian, The Lancaster Farmer, and the Lancaster Bar. Among the benevolent and philanthropic organizations in Lancaster, there aro a Lodge, Chapter, Council and Coramandery of Masons ; three Lodges and one Encamp ment of Odd Fellows; three tribes or Im proved Order of lied Men ; t?/o Councils of American Mechanics ; ono of the Junior O. U. A. M. ; two Lodges Good Templars; two of Order of Good Fellows; one of Druids; odo of the Seven Wise Men ; two of Knights of Pythias; one Sons of Tern perance; three ftoman Catholic Beneficial Societies; three Female Beneficial Societies; Daughters of Temperance ; Daughters of America, and the Pbilozatbeans. There are live steam fire engines, two engine and hose, and one hook and ladder company. These companies all occupy good houses, and the citizens generally speak of the de partment in high terms. The churches are divided among the fol lowing denominations ; two Episcopalian, two Methodist, two German Reformed, one Presbyterian, one German Lutheran, one Moravian, one Evangelical Lutheran, ono Evangelical Association, Bethel Church, one Synagogue, two Roman Catholic, oue new Jerusalem Church, und one United Brethren in Christ. The First Lutheran cUurch is a fine structure, and bos a steeple 200 feet high. The population of Lancaster in 1800 was 4292; in 18-10, 8417; in I-41U, 17,003, and at the present time is estimated at 25 000. New dwelling bouses and places of business are constantly being erected, oyer ninety now edifices having been com menced the present season. Four-roomed houses, on good streets, are renting at about §l5O per annum, and upon the suburbs at from $7O to $BO. In noticing the industrial Interests o. Lancaster city, the cotton mills deserve special notice, from the fact that they give employment to more persons than in any other branch of business lu the city. The mills are beautifully situated, and are kept in better order, particularly iu the sur roundings, tbau any I buve ever seen. — Mill No. 1, belonging to F. Shroder it Co., employs 360 bands. The mill contains 10,- 00Q spindles, 271 looms, and 300,000 yards of light shirting muslin are made every month. The weavers (women) in this, as well as in|the other mills, make irom $3 tos7 per week. w _ . Mills Nos. 2 and 3 belong to Mr. John Farnum, of Philadelphia. Nine hundred hands are employed in the two mills, which ran 2l,oodapindle9, 620 looms, and manu facture 18,000 yards of ticking per day.— Mill No. 4, known as Beaver street Mill, is not running at the present time. When at work about lOOlooms are run. At Wiley &Co.'s mill sixty bands are engaged iu making duck ; G 4 looms are ruu, producing about 2500 yards per day. The machine-shops and foundries of Win. Diller, Harberger, McCully it Co and Landis Brother, employ nearly 100 hands who make from $2 to $2 75 per day. each. All kinds of engines, mining ma chinery, &c., aro made in these establish ments. At the boiler works of Mr. John Best some 40 bands are employed, and in BlickensderfePs stove foondry about 30 men and boys. Over 40 men are also em ployed at Thomas & Peacock’s furnace.— Ten tons of pig iron are made daily.* The sporting rifles made here by Henry E. Leman have long been celebrated all over the country, and before the war great numbers were made and sold to parties who traded with the Indians, but that trade has been almost entirely destroyed, the Govern ment having taken measures to stop the sale of rifles to Indians. The rifles are cele brated, because of the fact that great care is exercised in the straightening and forming of the barrel. Seventeen hands are now employed, and about 30 rifles are made every week, which sell from $9 to *25 each. The horn comb establishment of Shafmer Graham employs fifty hands, who man- BATE OF ADTEBTIfrISe. Bninrzsa Asyx&naxxnvTS. 913 * year per qnaro of ten lines; IQ p«r year for eaob iut* oltlcmal square. bxal estate Jam*to oenu'a lintHbr th«first, «ndtf«t#rcr«acb«ab*eqtt«a» la ser Uon, General Abyanrxaneo 7 cents a line for tbe first, and 4 cents for each subsequent laser- Uoru Snegxax. Notices Inserted in Local Ooltunn 16 oents per line. Bfzoiai* Notices preceding marriages sad deaths, 10 oents per line for first Insertion! and & cents rot every subsequent insertion)] LBQA.L ASP OTgfcß jTOItUIS „ _ Executors' notices —• 2.* Administrators' notices, WO Assignees’ n0t1ee5,.~...~~~..*.~....~* 2.60' Auditors’ notices, .... 2.00 Other *• Notices,'’ten lines, or less, Z three ...... 1.50 ufaature 750 gross ol all kiuds of coiuum per month. The horns are those taken from the bides sent to the tanners, und some lew import* from Spain. They are llrst out intopvopei lengths for the comb, aud (bon softened In but oil. After tne pieces are flattened they are laid nwnjr ior six mouths to dry, after which they are ready for the sa wand cutters wbiob form the teeth. Most of the combs mace are sent to tho Phils delpUlM market. The Lancaster File Company counneno ed operations in January last, aud their works aro said to be the largest in this couutry for nnklDg flies by band, lbe company employ 120 bunds, wbo niuke $l2 to §3O per week. After tho teeth have been placed on lbe flies, they are burdened by placing thorn In hot lead, A sixty horse engine la employed in ruuniug their works. The manufacture of light carriages and roud wagons is carried ou extensively J lb® principal firms belug 8. B. Cox it Co., D. A. AlticK, Zecher A Bone, BielgerwuU.it Door sora, Edgerly it Co., John Cochran, and Hoover A Son. These firms employ about 150 hands, and turn out nearly 000 carri ages, worth from $l5O to §4OO euoh, yearly. The Lancaster Locomotive Works, for-, merlv Norris, now employ 350 hands ; who make at the ratonfoO locomotives annually. Most of them, at the present time, aro lor tho Pennsylvania and St. Louis Kailroad Companies. The buildings belonging to this company are very complete, and cover about three aores of groarni. The brewlug of lager beer is oue of tho features of Lancaster. Those engaged in business aro Henry Prnnke, J. A. Bpreng« or, Lawrence Knapp, AugustusSohoenbor ger, John Wlltliuger, Stroblo A Seuu. J. A. Scheurenbrand, Wacker, Myers, and soveral others not so largely engaged In brewing. Tho total production of these brewers la set down at 25,000 barrels, of 31 gallons each per year, requiring to make it about 70,000 bushels of mult. It is sold at $l3 per barrel. The iu«u euguged in tho breweries number about fifty, und tboy are paid from $2O to $OO per month with board, and the privilege of drinking us much la ger us they may see flt. Mr- J* A. Spreng or has just completed extensive beer vaults which aro from 20 to 32 feet under ground, and capable of containing 11,000 burrols of beer. Tho vaults and tue buildings, and machinery yot to be completed, will cost about $lOO,OOO. Tho tanneries number six or olght, atm it is estimated that from 5000 to 7000 hides are tunned annually. From certain poluts in the city a beautiful view is had of tho rich agricultural district surrounding it. The cash value of farms, In Lancaster comity, was set down wbon tho last census was taken, at $52,599,401, und oi personal property at $25,173,703 making a total of $94,193,021. At tho same timo tho number of manufacturing establishment* in tho county were said to be 907 with a cupital of $5,099,132, aud ualug raw material, cost ing over $5,000,000 annually. The bunds employed number Sideband $1,349,432 was required annually for labor. Tho anthra cite furnaces have u total capacity of over 71,000 tons of pig metal per annum, und the charcoal furnaces 2000 tons There aro ten national bunks in Laucastor county, with a oapltal of $2,040,000 aud seven other banks and bauking lirma, with a of $215 270. and having a deposit or $1,430,- ifiO ’ Nameloc. No Coal in Lancaster County.—lt has recently been published in the news papers, of this city, tbut “ sovoru small vuius of stone coal have beeu found In the excavations for the Pinegrove, Lebanon and Manheim Railroad, near Mount Hope, Lancaster county. These veins, though small neur tho surface, increaso in size as thev descend. Some of this coal has been tried in a smith’s ttro and found to burn W The United States Railroad and Mining Register (which Is excellent authority In such matters) comments, upon tho above alleged discovery of atone coal m our coun ty, as follows : . . All tho rocks of Lancaster county aro much older and many thousand feet (goo loulcully) below the Coal Measures, except one formation which overlies lbe older rocks, and la itself of a much later date, and (geologically) above the Coal Measures. It is, Impossible, therefore, tbut uny true coal beds should be discovered In Luncus ter couniy. This later rock formation, which spreads Itself over the country about Mount Hope, is tbe Norristown Red Sund- Btone, tbe same as the Connecticut River Sandstone, and tbe same also as tho Dnn River and Deep River Red Sandstone of Nortb.Carolina. AtGwynedd, on tho North Pennsylvania Railroad, aud at Pbmnix ville, on the Reading Railroad, tbiu seams of coal, with multitudes of fish boDea and teeth, have been* found In this lormutlon, but never any workable coal beds. The same deposit spreads through York county and int7> Maryland, where In the neighbor hood of Frederick, numerous remains of plants turned into coal, and black slates (that is, mud blackened with vegetable matter) have been found, setting the inhab itants to work at fruitless diggings for coal. This deposit of black Blato aud coul plants keeps one and the same position in tho middle ot the great New Red Formation all tho way down to North Carolina, where tbe amount of vegetable matter has been large enough to constitute a coal bod fop feet thick, or rather two coal beds, each two feet thick, separated by a lajer of very sulphurous and phororllerous iron ore, tilled (the Iron ore] with millions of flsh teeth. The phosphorus bus come, of course, from Iho flsh remains, and spoils tho Iron ore, as completely us tho sulphur spoils tbe coal. It will be a great misfortune If the discovery of these wortheless luyers of vegetable matter should excite the farmers of Lancaster county to dig expensively for coal. They will never flud a bed. And It 1 is wrong to report that tho " veins though small at the surface Increase in size os they descend.” They do not. To Sfortssien.— As there are many in quiries os to tho proper times to shoot game, and as persons sometimes get themselves into difliculty through ignorance of game laws, we publish the Joilowing from the Harrisburg Patriot : Deer cannot be killed or taken except from tho Ist September until tho 31st of December. . Grouse or pheasants can be shot from tho Ist of August to the 20th of December. Partridges cab only be killed trom tho Ist of October to the 10th day of Decomber. Wild turkoys can bo hunted from the Ist ofOctoberto the latof January. Squirrels and rabbits may be shot from ! the Ist of August to Ist of January. I Woodcock from the 4th of J uly to the 15th of November. , , .. Insectivorous birds, which includes tho robin, are prohibited to be shot at any time, and It is illegal to rob tho nests of wild birds of all kinds. Trout can be fished for with hook and lino only during the months of April, May, June and July. Sunday shooting or hunting la prohibited under a heavy penalty. Traps, blinds, snares, (fee., are entirely prohibited. Possession of fish or game out of season is sufficient loconvict the purty, oven if they were purchased. The penalties vary from $5 to $5O. Oiio-half of the fiue goes-to the informer, and any one convicted and refusing to pay the fine goes to jail for ten duys. Nkw Patents. —Frank J. Stoinhauser of this city, has Just received Lottors Patent for a new mode of balancing tho Keys on Pianos, Ac., dated the 3d day of August, 18fiU. , , By this simple and efficient device, any one can adjust or balance the keys to any desired delicacy of touch, by means or a biuhll weight to give uniformity to each key. This is highly important in trilling, or in performing .running or brilliant pas sages, and will proye of the greatest utility to makers and players, and canuot tail to recommend Itself. . Charles F. Walker, late of Lancaster, has also received Letters Patent for bis im proved Wash Machine of the sumo date aa machine operates on the prlnciplo of suction and expulsion, forcing the hot suds directly through tho meshes of the goods to be washed, by an alternate up and down motion. This machine has been tol ly tested and highly approved of. Both the above patents were obtained through the agency of J. Stauffer, of this city. Generous. —Mr. Levi W. Groff, of West Earl township, this county, recently gave IlDtoward the Children's Home, in thia city • it being the amount due Mr. Groff for his services as Secretary of the School Board of said township. This certainly very geuerous. Organ Dedication.—Wo learn from the Columbia Herald that the dedication of the new plpo organ of the Lutheran Church of Elizabethtown came off, the 29th ult., by a grand Vocal and. loatrumeutul Concert. Messrs. Knauff, or Philadelphia, B. A. Shreiner of Lancaster performing on the organ, and Misses English and Saylor, of Philadelphia, and the JEollau Quintette, of Columbia, the Vocalists. The organ la a large one, and its tone is of the sweetest charades. The exercises of the concert closed by Prof. Unseld playing "OldHan dred ” on the full organ. Tib’L Thief. —A man was detectedat the butober shop of M.r, Geo. G&ntz. in the Eighth Ward, this city, last week, in the act of stealing money from the till of the connler. On being discovered the thief took his flight and was energetically pur sued - by the whole population, male ana female, of the vicinity of the robbery, and was finally overtaken by a large dog be longing to Mr. Gantz. The dog caught the thief by the back of the neck, threw the ground and held him until be was taken In custody. appototed- Mr. A. D, Rockafellow, ol this city, ha. .ppolnled a Flrst Lieu tenant of Cavalry in the United States Army. ,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers