THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER, PUBLISHED EVERT WIDDHESDAY ET 11. G. SIMITII .t CO A. J. STELCMAN 11. Q. TERMS—Two Dollars per annum payable In all cases In advance. Tug LANCASTFIR DAILY INTELLIGRICCER 11 pllblished every evening. Sunday excepted, at $ per annum In advance. OFFICE-,SOUTUNTEST CORNER OP CENTRE SQUARE. Voctrp. SATURDAI: AFTERNOON I lOW 10 inn): 011 II scene like this, Of wild and careless play, 1 And persuade myself that am not old, And my locks are not yet gray; Veer It stirs the blood in an old man's heart And makes his pulses fly, T 0 catch the thrill of a happy ‘OOl,, And the light of a pleasant. eye. I have walked the world fur four score years And they He that 1 RIM Ohl— That my heart is ripe for the reaper Death, And my years are well nigh told. It Is very true—ll is very true— ! am told, and I'll bide my time; Inn illy heart will leap at a Hoene like this Audi half renew my prime. Nay ! play on! am with you there In the midst ofyour merry ring; Call 11,1 the thrill of the daring Jump Anil the rush of the breittliless swing I Wile telt li soil In the fragrant limy, Anil 1 wleioli the stioithereil Anti iny heel Milli Ilp on the sect!). floor, Anil I caw not for the fall. I; till Wlin ,I ilg to when my time shall e.me, ,kntl 11,111111 Iry glad In go— For the World IWSI I.a Wl'llry place And Ill}' 311111 0 Is gl 1111117 1111 v ; Hal Ilia grate I, tiara, and Ihl 111.111 L will fall In Irt•Inl Ing its gloomY wily; .\. , 1 It Wlll, Inc heart Irnm drourlia•si the young so guy. ftlicrllanrous The Magic Mirror I N TIMM nts Ali I las. , :tn Was a gay young Persian of twenty-one. Life WaS :ill before him, except die twenty-one years he hail skipped lieht-footed over I.whieli were neeesfqirily behind hin;i, and matters sad things had, in his eyes, a roseate hue. Just of age, he had east his first vote for President, and had consequent ly had an idea that the fate of the Re public rested on his shoulders; hand some, he lmicied all the blooming maid ens of the township in which he lived, awl the country adjacent, were in love with him. Ile was ill the hair oil period of existence ; at that, precise age when young men sly particular attention to tooth brushes, not on aceount of clean liness Iwhich is truly next door ❑eiglt hnr to godliness and on the same side of the street I lint for the looks of the thing, at the precise age when they part their hair behind and wear number seven bouts, when number tens would be more comfortable. Ali I lassito \vie, iir ever Naw s yolite4 neat of t‘venly otie 1,111 . , the author hereof' ventures In :e.isert. Ile loved wildly :old a love that iiiiiivi,tatiiiing—imr lieularly her rather, who nplu>nud the dani , el of ‘churl Nvas getier- ally honeyed to lie the most. beautiful female in Persia, NVilich was saying ii great deal fir tier. Her eyes were like stags, her hair was masses of wavy curls, which, hail she lived in this day of false hair, ..votild have brought a hand:mile price iii any market, and— but \vitt - go into particulars? Suf fice it to say shw NV:I., a well proportion ed pirl, and her father hail a farm of lilt) acres, half under improvement and the titter half well timbered. Ali and Zobeide were engaged. Ile had beamed her to evening meetings and lectures, lie had talien her sleigh riding twit winters, awl, finally, after a vigor ous siege, site had capitulated. The old inan's consent tvas reluctantly gained, nod the happy day which was to unite them into one twain, was fixed. Ali Ilassati was a happy youth. Ile reveled ill ill'eatilti a bliss continually. NVlien lie retired at night his last thought was of Zobeide —in the still watches of th, night his younger , broth er, Flinn I lassaii, who shared his ( . 11111 . 11, urns frellll.l.llliy obliged to " hist him out," as lie espressed it, lgieatime lie brukr hint ill his slumbers by calling out in his sleep the name of zobewe ja:tilication, that be -1.:IIISL! he \Va ., shortly to be married lie had no call to matte a cussed tail of i nisei :Ind his Biel Ihuught as lie pulled on lily ii:1111:: ill the 1110111illg was ul ZI lbe EtlN= he \va-; ,onie \\Alai a-,tonisheil, being but iNventy-on, awl not knowing much about rental,. loinian nature, at receiv ing a note through the po,t office from her. Ile hooked upon the missive , with strange horelooding. Why should she me up paper and envelopes and squan der postage stamp:, when she could see him personally :LI any time ! Ili, worst antivipation; were realized! Ile read it, :Intl Willi a heart-rending shriek lie cell fainting to the lk.or. The perfidious lila! her feelings huJ iiiiilerif,nne eliange --that \dilly she ri•spect, iiiin its a friend and brother viittracters young men If twenty-one are neverimrtial to tilling) lit , could never he nothing else ur Inure to her no 'lntl', all of which was signet! "Zolieide. " .\ its to finish him, that afternoon he received au im . itation to her Nvisliiiint, which \vas to take place the next night, lie happy man being a new store k.talier who hail just com menced lit-Ines:ilk the next village, tire seemed itt Ali liasSall it likoekery. The Still NV:IS obsellr sit tO a a sort of haze, and I • or the first tints in his life he neglected his bark hair and teeth. After passing a sleepless night, he hied himself to the mountains, deliatilitt, on the NV:i . y,Whit l li was the twist pleasalit Illetlinil oftertnin ating an existence witch \Vat, hateful 1.0 Hill, and at the sillily thine covered the faithless fair one with the rowans of the most terrible ellaracti•r. methods suggested themselves, to wit : jumping nil a precipiee, lying down on a railroad track, or drinking a pint of l'incinnati whiskey. IZejts•ting the latter ns a death ton lingering allil horrible, the Seeollll aS into Which lint clreet his purpose, as the papers ‘vould, ten !none, call it all accident, and as such it Nvouldn't wring Zolieitle's bosom very much (that being what he \vas determined to do in one wily or another, he decided on the former. A 1 . 1 . 1/r1 I ngly he sought a prec ipice, mid getting upon the brink there of, he set himself down, composing a soul-liarro \vim; note to her, which he proposed to tint ill his breeches pocket, where it would lie found, it being, the custom of people finding dead bodies to always examine the pockets, and the letters ‘vhicli are found always made !addle. isimposi lig this note, aunt debating in his mind Whether " cruel" should lie spelled with inn. , or two l's, it Venerable old with White beard, silell as are seen ill flintily Ifilrlys Nt'liieli are 'ild ,inly by stibserili thin, shod 111.111rl. him. Starting tip, li I lassan exclaimed: " \Vito art thou " Thy good grains, " said the presence. " genius. I ! ha. • 1,01111 Italia dollar," said \li, becoming nor m:11 in an in-E a rl. "My ,on, good geniuses never lend half dollars. That i , n't their mission— it sn't, if I ilily lice the expression , (heir best holt. They give freely, how ever, what is more plenty titan half dol.- lars—adviee. • ' "What wantest thou said Ali. ""I`o save you from making :in use of yourself," said the presence. "Are you in that husiness extensive ly?" said Ali bitterly. "Oh, venerable Mall, 'tithe profession pays take me in partnership. You'll never run out of opportunities to show your skill. But proceed. 1.0 on with your show." "I see a mist," said Ali. '! "Look again,' said the genius: "'Phu mist clears away. I see a gay and festive seem., There is light and music, and fair woolen and brave men, and all goes merry as a marriage bell. There is a preacher—l know him by his black clothes and while neckerchief and the hungry loot: he ever and anon slings through the door which opens in the dining-room where the refreshments are." " A pair enter—it is—it is—take it away. It sears my eye balls and freezes my young blood," and uttering a Fenian war cry the unfortunate youth sank to the earth in spasms. "It's terrible medicine," muttered the good genius to himself, " but he must take it. Quinine is bitter—calomel isn't as pleasant to the taste as the peach es of Jersey, but when a child in Indi ana has the ague they force it down him or her as the ease may be. Arise, AU Hasan," said he, raising him up tenderly by the hair, "arise and con tinue your investigations." Willi a shudder Ali opened his optics. " A pair enter. Zobeide and—the storekeeper. The preacher steps up— he repeats the ceremony—Allah it Al lah, Abonkir ben Hamet—it's over," and the young man, overcome with emotion, swooned again. The venerable genius applied a pint bottle to his lips at which the youth re vived. Turning overupon his back and pointing wishfully at the bottle he gasp ed " One more draught—only one. Ttx !lattOtet sittettion?ett, VOLUME 71 " Nary," said the good genius holding it up to the light. " There's but little left, and its four miles to the nearest grocery. But look some more." " I see a house in town. It's furnished gorgeous and regardless of expense. The carpet is tapestry, the sofa cost no less than $lOO, and there is a Chiekering piano. Around it is a garden, in which the orange tree and the pine mingle their aromatic boughs,: and the bulbul answers the nightingale's song of lon. An antique fountain squirts cologne continually, diffusing a delicious fra grancelthrough the [atmosphere. gorgeous. I see into the bay window. Zobeide is sitting at the piano, shouting the " Battle Cry of Freedom," accom panying herself on tlfe instrument ; a deformed dwarf of great price is hovering around her, fanning her with one hand and turning over the leaves of the music with the other, and it keeps him mighty busy. Her husband enters, but heavens what a change. He don't hold his head up. Company enters—she smiles on him. They depart—she frowns. They interchange a few unpleasant pura graphs—she flies at him—she seizes him by the nap of the neck and the slack of the breeches and pitches him down stairs. Alluh it Allah, what a muscular female." " Look again." " I see a picture. A man is endeavor ing to fill a barrel with a teaspoon which a woman is emptying with a bucket.— What does it signify?" "It's an allegory, my son. Look again and see the solution." " I see and comprehend. The store keeper's trade is light and his profits small, he is working hard in his store, while Zobeide is leaving the house, clad in purple and line linen. I see the point of the allegory." " Look again." " I see a cabin in the suburbs, with a slatternly woman banging her children about like old boots. Outside, lying in the sun, and overcome with tic strung waters of the Olaiour, I sec a man, " Enough," said the good genius. "1 have shown you a yard or two of futuri ty. Wilt thou cast thyself from the' precipice for Zobeide now?" "Respected sir," said Ali IlatiSall, "whoever you arc, tell toe, oh, tell me, is this which I have gazed on chapters in the biography of Zobeide "My son it is. She whom you call Zobeide has a head on her shoulders, and a will of her own and money. Ile who can manage her can take a city or rule an empire. She was in earnest in her intention to marry you because (par don me if I flatter you) you are a fool.— She knew she would be able to boss you with less wear and tear of temper than a man less a fool. Following that strat egy, she determined, to use the words of another, to fight out on that line ; she discarded you and took up with a new storekeeper, because she deemed him more of a fool than you. 1 think she was mistaken, but let that pass. We will not here argue that point—either would have done. She furnishes the capital and she will control it, and whenever such a woman undertakes to manage the money which she brings into a firm, she is, my son, very apt to gu on reducing it to the very and of the chapter. This will happen with the storekeeper—had you married her, it would have happened with you. " •There must be, my son, in all mat ters matrimonial, something like equal ity—if there is any difli..rence between the parties it should be in favor of the. male, for the reason that having the credit of being the stronger vessel, it hurts his feelings more to go to the wall. Had you married this high-tempered female, possessed of money, the advan tages would have been hers. She has intellect, which you !have not—she has money, which you lack. You both have ~auty that is only valuable to her.— ae men run after a handsome woman, but women despise a pretty man, because he is apt to lie as near like themselves as it is posssible for two beings gotten up on ditlbrent models to be • and every well regulated fe male desires an opposite. Ido not dis approve of your marrying fur money— the good of the tax-payers of your town ship demands it; lint see to it that she has no intelect, that inn that particular at least you may be on an equality with her; and also to the end of her not hav ing force enough to make a ruption on account of her money. Such marriages are proper. It is bad for the next gener ation, but it is good for this, and this is the generation for which we are more immediately concerned. Its fair to pre sume that the next will take care of itself without any of our interfer ence. The young man who mar ries fur money must necessarily be an idiot or could make his pile easier—let the woman he marries be likewise, that too many families may not be spoiled. She should be also homely:and old, as well as stupid, that while she makes a sacrifice in marrying a penniless man, the penniless inan also makes a sacrifice in marrying such a bundle of hideous ness. Then you have a hook in the jaws of the leviathan. If she throws her money in your face, you retort with her appearance, and that evens it up. " Therefore, my son, go to her wed ding to-morrow. Hide your disappoint ment, be the gayest of the gay, and the liveliest of the lively. Farewell. May the Allah of imbeciles protect you." And enveloping himself in a mist he disappeared as quickly as ho came. Ali Hassan pondered. He changed his mind. He neglected to suicide. He went home, he parted his hair behind,he brushed his teeth, blacked his boots and arrayed himself in his most stunning pair of pants, his most gorgeous vest, and the most crushing neck tie, Ire went to the wedding and danced an Irish jig with the bride. lie was so gay, so jolly, and wasn't pale and wan, that the bride nearly choked with vexation. Ilis man liness was rewarded. That night he was introduced to a widow with no children, only fourteen years his senior, she hadn't any will at all, but whose husband had been kind enough to ac cumulate a pile of speller before delmrt ing this life. Her he married, and for many years lived in the full enjoyment or everything he was capable or [THE IINI/ .I.* 1. Ile who marries in haste repents at leisure, so sometimes does he Who isn't in so much of a hurry. 2. There's as good fish in any river you mention, as was ever pulled out, and better too. :1. He who misses a hawk may esteem himself lucky if he knocks over a part ridge. These maxims are Persian, as any one can see by the oriental cut (d . their re spective jibs. The author don't assert that they have anything to do with the tale, but as maxims, standing on their respective merits as such, he submits them to a discriminating public. Woman's True Place If I do not at least say that whatever else may lure or demand her, woman's true place, first and last, must be her home, I shall be untrue to any one stand ing great conviction. Women must make more of their homes and make them more to those who belong within them. In this day of outward excite ment and many other attractions, the old and sacred integrity of home is en dangered. The homes of to-day are not as dear as those of a past generation. Great changes have come over our peo ple. Amusements multiply and press. Young people have taken out a license against their parents. Parents are get ting rather afraid of their boys and girls. Home isn't the little nucleus radiating joy to each, each shedding back joy on it. It is a convenient place to have, and the father is the banker, and the mother is the mistress of laundry, women and cooks, but the home is gone. "It is only a part of the outer world whirls you have roofed over and lighted a fire in," which you may make dark with your frown or uncomfortable by your whim. Once it was, what it must be again, the heart's holy of holies ; once no man would desecrate it by deserting it ; once all good impulse sprung hence, and all true character grew ; once the hearth at which father and mother sat was holy and dear, and if the generations are to get back old stability of character, and firmness of principle and the old unde filed religion, it must be through these homes, of which you, 0 women! are priestesses; it must be by your garnish ing them again with forgotten graves-- re-awaking gone out fires, and sanctify ' lug anew the only place in which a hu man soul can be surely fitted for the work and warfare of life. Heaven help us, if this desecration of the home gets into a • other generation . Parker's Private Secretary. The story I am about to tell relates to an incident In the history of England which is but little known, and which you will not find in books, but one which nevertheless had a great effect on her destinies. About the beginning of this century, while the Revolutionary wars were rag- ing, communication in cipher was na turally very prevalent; and ingenuity was taxed to the utmost on one hand to invent, and on the other to detect the medium used in secret correspondence. As a rule, the decipherer had beat en the cipher, and no known method was secure of detection. If convention- al signs merely were used, the recur rence of the different symbols gave a key easily followed out. Some ingeni ous spirits correspond by reference to the pages and lines of particular edi tions of books—methods, although they might preserve the secret, disclosed what was often quite as dangerous, there was a secret. I am about to tell you of a plan which for a long time was not only undetected, but unsuspected. It was at that time when the first Na poleon had assembled his fleet and transports at Brest, with the ostensible and us is generally believed the real view, of making a descent on England. The greatest precautions were observed by the English government in regard to correspondence from France, and an amount of espoinage was practiced at the post-office, which left Sir James Graham's subsequent performances in that line far behind. 'the national ex eitement was intense, and the political departments of the government were administered with an iron sway. My uncle, Sir George Trevor, was, us all the world then knew, high in the Admiralty—and as it was from him that I heard this anecdote, its veracity may be deponded on. The despatches to and front the Ad mirality were the subject of the gravest vigilance, and the most stringent regu lotions. The clerks were not permitted to send or receive letters which were not first submitted to the chief clerk ; and it was believed that lette N addressed even to private residences were frequent ly opened at the post °lnce. At the time I speak of, the chief clerk was an elderly man of the name o Parker—a wizened, wiry, dapper indi- vidual, so imbued with the official tinc ture of Whitehall that it had become second nature to him breathed and thought and slept solely for the Admiralty, and knew no other pleasure or care. He was withal age vial and kindly soul, keen and energetic in the antis of his °nice, and in all Alters a mere child Ile had assumed as Lis prig•ate secre ary a young fellow of khe name of Beaumont, who was one of the most oromising subordinates in the establish nen t. Ile was modest and unassuming, very good-looking, with a countenance and an air suggestive of depression and melancholy. He was evidently of good education, and probably well born also, for his manners were easy and indicated good breeding. Ile was a native of Jersey, and had been introduced to the notice of the Admiralty authorities by coins influential member of Parliament. lie was much liked in the office and discharged his duties to perfection. line morning Parker presented him self before my uncle with a visage (We with woe and trembling with excite ment. " Why, what is the matter, Parker? Has Bonaparte come;" " He may have, for aught I know," said Parker. „ Things are all wrong, Sir George!" "What is wrong?" " The letters are wrong. There is a spy among us. I have known it for a long time, now I am quite sure; but I cannot find him out." Parker went on to explain that he bad for some time suspected that some one in the office communicated their private information and despatches outside. lie had redoubled his precautions; but, more than ever confirmed in his sus picions; was entirely i battled in his en deavors to detect the ehlprit. " But, Parker," saidhily uncle, "how do you come to be s(Nure that your se crets have transpired ?" "By the funds, Sir lleorge. They answer to the news as surely as the hell down stairs answers to the bell-rope. I find them going up and down as it' they were sitting in the (Alice," said Parker, personifying the stock exchange for a moment. "Have all the letters to the clerks Lees examined strictly?" Yes; I read them all myself." "Find nothing in them'."' "Mighty little. Some are from home and some from friends; but most of them from sweethearts," said Parker, twisting his face into a grim smile, "and rum things they say ill them. "And the young 111011's letters. Are they rtlin, too?" " They are more careful like, as they know I am to see them ; but Lord save you, sir, they are all stuff; not a lia'porth of harm in them." •"fhis matter must be seen to," said my uncle ; " I have had my own mis givings on the same subject. Bring me all the letters which come to and are sent by the clerks fur the next week.— There is no reason why you should have have all the rum things to yourself." So my uncle had the letters for a week, and found them very much such as Par ker had described them. The suspicious symptoms increased; the stock ex change responded more sensitively than ever ; but not the slightest ground for suspecting any one transpired. My uncle was bewildered, and Parker was rapidly verging to insanity." " It is certainly not the clerks," said my uncle. "There is no reason there," said he, pushing back the letters of the day. "By the way, how does young Bennett get on ? She seems a nice creature, that sister of his, to judge by her letters." "'lle is the best hand in the office, a long sight ; and his sister is a very lady like creature. They are orphans, poor things, and he supports her out of his salary. She called at the otlice two mouths ago, and I gave him leave to see her for a few moments in my room.— But he knew it was against the rules,, and has not seen her here again." But what are we to de t"' said my uncle. " I think l will speak to the First Lord." So lie spoke to the First Lord, who thought the affair serious enough. " It must be in the letters," said he. " It cannot be in the letters," said my uncle. " As you please," said the chief ; ''but, although you cannot find it .there, per haps another can. I would try an ex pert." My uncle hail no faith in experts or Bowstrcet run ners, and mist rusted them. But he could not refuse to try the exper iment. So the most experienced de cipherer in London was summoned into council, and to him the letters of of the day were secretly submitted. lie read them all very carefully, look ed at them in the light and looked at the light through them. At last lie them all aside, excepting one from Elinor Beaumont. "Who is the lady who writes this ?'' said the taciturn man of skill at last. " A very sweet young woman," said Parker smartly ; " sister of my private secretary.'' " Does she write often ?" " Yes; she is his only correspondent, and writes about twice a week." " Where does she live?" " She lives in Jersey, Beaumont told me. Their father was in business there." " And does she always write about the samesort of things—aunt's rheumatism picnics, squire's tea parties, and the like ?" "Much the same, excepting when she speaks of Beaumont himself." " Hum !" said the export. " Well, sir," said my uncle, who was rather impatient of the man of skill's pomposity, "and what may hum' mean? Have the young woman and her aunt's rheumatism done the mis chief ?" " Hum ! She dates from Fleet street?" " And why should she not date from Fleet street ?" "I should be sorry to prevent her," said the unmoved philosopher. " Has this correspondence continued long?" " Oh, yes—a couple of years or so, but not nearly so regularly as lately." " For how long regularly?" " About two months." " That is, about the time when you first suspected the betrayal of confi dence" "Really, my friend, if you can't see farther into a millstone than that, you may give up the profession." said my uncle. "Take my word for it, the Beaumonts have nothing to do with it. Rubbish!" " Hum!" And with that the man of LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING JULY 6. 1870 skill took his hat and departed, saying he would return in two days. The two days, however, were tlvebefore he came back, and was closeted with my uncle and Parker, with whom he had fallen in great disfavor. "Wants to make a job," said the lat ter—"a regular humbug." Sir George," said the regular hum bug, "has Beaumont a locked desk in his room?" "Yes, sir," said Parker, "he has." "Have you a key which will open it?" "I have , a-and what of that?" " I wish to have that desk opened without his knowledge, and the con tents brought to me." " And on what pretense," said my uncle, "do you propose to put this in sult on a man against whom there is no reasonable ground of suspicion, and who has not been allowed to speak for him self?" " There need be no insult, for lie will know nothing of it; neither will any one else." " I will not permit it, sir." " Hum! Then I eau du no more in the business. " But," said Parker, whose official no tion made him unwilling to break off the negotiations in this manner, "what pretence have you for doing this to Beaumont and not to the other clerks!" " Shall I tell you ? There is no such person as Elinor Beaumont, and the address in Fleet street is a notorious haunt of suspected foreigners." "(load gracious!" said my uncle, changing color, "you don't say that ?" " It is the fact; but you 'will see the necessity of being cautious and silent itt the matter. Detection hangs on a thread, as it stands, and a whisper will break it." • • "What do you mean," said Parker, "about Elinor Beaumont ? I have seen her." • "There is no Elinor Beaumont in Jersey. I sent and havemcertained the fact. ' 7 I am sure there Is some mistake about all this, which Beaumont eau clear up. Let us send for him." If you do the game is up. I trust, in fact, lie does not know of my visits. We cannot he too cautious in this mat ter!" " Pedantic ass," muttered my uncle ; " but I suppose we had better give him his own way. If you meet Parker and me here at seven to-night, we shall have this wonderful desk opened, and your great discoveries shall be made." They met again that evening. The desk was opened by Parker, and a bun dle of letters, carefully packed up, all from Elinor Beaumont, and a quantity of circulars, playbills and shop receipts were handed to the expert. That gentleman read through the let ters and seemed much struck by the last. " Read that," said he, handing it to my uncle. As the letter is important, I give it entire: 120 Fmmr STICEET, Sept. 24, 18113. Mv DEAR CitAam:s: Although we had an adverse wind all the way, we minute without difficulty the port we were bound for. My aunt, in spite of the weight of her fifty years, enjoyed the trip much and is ready to sail again, I hope you will think of sending the line you promised on the 25th, and come yourself, as your party is now much smaller, and we should enjoy the visit. When I was in London last week I saw your cousin Harry, fresh from Windsor. There is but little change to be observed in him—not as much as you would expect. Come to us on Friday. Yours very affectionately, " You can choose fur yourself—in form ELINOR B. Louise of all I have told you, consult My uncle read this out loud, from be- with her and acquaint me of your de gi n ning to end, and then he said, "Do vision ; but I beseech you, mother, let you see anything suspicious in that. It it be as it should be—remain, take Em seems to me very innocent." ilie to your heart, love her as thedearest Humph! It may be. Was there thing on earth to the son you say you anything else in the desk?" said he, love better than life." addressing Parker. " Never. Leave me to myself—send " You may go and look," growled that Louise to me and also your brother." potentate ; and he led the way, the ex- „ Jly brother is aware of my inten pert following. tions— he has congratulated me as well The desk was quite empty, with the as Emilie whose worth he appreciates." exception of two or three scraps of paper. ~ , Leave me instantly—by remaining On one of these the expert pounced, and you but add fuel to the lire you have returned with an air of elation to the kindled." other room. He then unfolded this ~ MEE= scrap of paper, disclosed a half sheet ex actly the size of the paper on which Elinor Ileaumout's letters were written, in which oblong holes at intervals had been cut. Ile then placed this half-sheet over the letter, and handed both, thus placed, to my uncle, whose astonished eyes read the following words, which the holes left visible: Fleet wind-bound. Fifty sail of the line. Twenty-five smaller. Should the wind change. expect us on Friday. "The devil!" said my uncle; "and Nelson ordered off to the West Indies." Then was there, as you may suppose, hurrying and seurryi - ng, and running and chasing, and dispatching of govern ment Courier., and semaphore tele- graphs, and carrier-pigeons and all the old world meansof communication then in fashion. The key thus obtained dis closed the whole correspondence, which turned out to be a connected series of letters front the French government, smuggled into Jersey. The rest history knows; the intended invasion was abandoned and Napoleon went else where. " But what put you on the scent"." asked toy uncle afterwards, with many apologies to the expert. " I suspected the trick front the first, although it was a very good specimen of it. The letters were to innocent, and had too little point in them. But they were done with admirable skill. The grammar was complete ; and the little dots or marks which bunglers use to guide them in writing the words which are to be read were entirely absent. The way in which the deception is effected is this:—The correspondence, before commencing, take a sheet of paper and cut holes in it, which, of course, in the two half sheets exactly correspond.— They each take one half-sheet, and when the letter is to be written, th/ writer so arranges the words that tho e intended to be read shall appear in the holes when the half sheet is placed over the paper, which is of tho same size.— When his correspondent receives his letter, he places his half sheet over it and reads the words as you did. The difficulty, which was well conquered in • this case, is to make the sense run flu ently and to prevent any ;visible break in the writing. Without the half-sheet with the holes in it, no one can have the slightest clew to the real meaning. " My suspicions, once aroused, were confirmed by the inquiries which I made. The whole story about the sister was a fabrication. The letters did come from Jersey, the answers went to Fleet street, to the charge of very notorious foreign agents. But if our friend had not been fool enough to leave his half sheet in his desk, we might have groped in vain for the mystery." Beaumont disappeared that night, and was never heard of again at the Admi ralty. It transpired afterward that some accomplice had warned him of the ex pert's visit to the Admiralty, and his enquiries in Jersey. He had made an attempt to get admittance to his room, but was scared by the sounds he heard, and contrived so escape to France. The lady who acted the sister, and who visi ted the Admiralty, partly to put the au thorities off their guard, and probably also to interchange the key to the ci pher, was a Parisian celebrity who both before and afterward was renowned for daring in political intrigue. All that you can possibly accomplish with the old fashioned bitting bridle, that is to teach the horse to hold down his head, hold up his head, and to the right and to the left at the touch of the rein, can be accomplished with the bridle described below, in forty minutes. If nature has not designated the horse to have stylish head and carriage, no art of man can alter it; and the old fash ioned way of straining up the neck is an unnatural position, end leaving it there for hours, nine times out of ten results in a heavy headed lugger on the bits. Take a cord and fix a loop upon the end, just like one used to go over the jaw, only big enough to go over the neck and fit down rather tight where the col lar is worn ; now bring your cord for ward, put through the mouth from the offside, and bring back on the near side, and put through the loop around the neck; now pull upon this cord and the head will be drawn back to the breast. You are now prepared to bit, simply pull open the cord a little, and as soon as he curbs his head well, relieve him, that teaches him it is there you want it. When you want to raise his head, lift quickly on the cord and you elevate his head finely. You should not bit over five minutes at a time, and then put it away, and in forty-five minutes'time, dividing each bitting into five minutes each, you can bit your colt well. How to Bit a Colt The Birth-Bay Ball From the Philadelphia Transcript. Eustace Desmon bore unmistakable signs of displeasure on his unusually smooth and placid face, as he entered his mother's boudoir by appointment of his own making. For a moment he stood silent and absorbed—his eye was fixed upon his mother for a moment, then his gaze fell upon the view com manded from the window, and as he gazed with the consciousness that all within his sight was his and his alone, and as he thought of the power that fact gave him, the ruffled expression left Ids countenance, and he advanced to his mother, kissed her gently, seated himself besides her and waited for her to open the conversation. " Well, mon fils, what is all this mys tery? I ant impatient as well curious to know ?" Then this it is, ma mere, I am about to be married, and to bring my wife home here to be mistress of this house.'' " Preposterous!" angrily exclaimed Madam Desnion, rising hastily and pac ing the room. Mother, there is mach more titan what I have told you to learn. I beg you to be seated and to understand that what I now tell you I am not asking your permission to do, but I tell it you as a settled fact, and one that will bring much peace and happiness, as well as create the reform so necessary in my domestic affitirs." "Am not I sufficient to render you happy—your sister, your brother? Sure ly it can not require a fourth to com plete your happiness?" "No, it requires bui one person—that person my wife." " Who is this being who is so far superior to your mother ? Therelives not the woman superior in my estimation, to my mother as a mother, but I now speak of wife." " I was hasty. You certainly will let me remain with you " Your question is absurd ; but let me tell you that all that will be as it was, except in one fact, my wife is mistress." " I repeat, who is she?" "Emilie Pierrepont." " And my milliner." " Your milliner ?" " Never—l swear it !" " Useless, mother." " I repeat, it never shall Ire, I swear it." " It shall be—l say it." "This outrage to foe, to your family, to society, to your wealth and position." " Of what use are all these, if they bring you not happiness "That you can purchase." " A heart like Emilie's is not for sale." " She has no position." " She has my heart." "She brings neither name or wealth." She gives the her love." " She will be—" " My wife ; therefore, enough of this useless opposition. I have told you what will shortly occur—it is for your own sake, I urge you to let it occur peacefully." "And I say I will not let it occur at all." "Then with feelings such as those Emilie's life among you would be tor ture to her sensitive nature. You, mother, must with Louise and Etienne live apart from my wife." " Leave this luxury, subsist upon the scanty income left Inc by your father, which is barely sufficient to enable Eti enne to support his position as your brother.'' I obey you, mother, and await your Slowly Eustace wended his way to his studio, after sending Louise to his mother.' Sail, indeed, were his thoughts, for well he saw that none but a cold welcome would be given to one so dear to him as Emilie. He knew his mother and sister too well to fancy they would relinquish the luxury and power his wealth gave them, nor did he intend they should, yet he had used the threat to endeavor to compel them to receive Emilie, knowing that to be recognized by his family was the surest way to the approval of society, in which he and his wife would pass their lives, principally being immensely wealthy and high in position. Eu,tace hail been greatly favored by fortune—that is, all uncle whom all spurned, simply because he did not die, had taken a fancy to his nephew, Eustace, and at his death left him everything, with a dying re quest that he would befriend whom he chose, but he was not to give a cent of his money to a soul. Eustace readily complied, as the request permitted him to do as much for his family as if they hail had the money, and not lie. He had, when young, acquired a taste for paint ing, and after his acquisition to wealth he cultivated it and devoted all his time to it until his heart found occupation, then his hands were idle. Emilie alone occupied his thoughts—he gave himself up to the sweet task of winning her heart, which he found could not be won, because it was his before the az,king.— Sweet were the days of his courtship— sweet, for none intruded--none comment ed—none knew of his happiness, and when the happy day approached the heart of both the lovers sank at the thought of a third intruding upon their happiness. traVatiently did Eustace await his sister's coming, knowing well that she would be the messenger of his mother. An hour passed—the time drew near to see Emilie—he could not delay, nor was sere occasion, for as he rose to prepare r his daily visit to his Emilie, his sis- ter tapped lightly on the door and en tered not slowly, but lazily. She was not above the medium height, not pret ty, except her eyes, and even they par took of the discontented, self-dissatisfied expression, which was the characteris tic of the face, showing with greater prominence in the mouth. She waited to he spoken to, and not long (lid she wait, for Eustace had become impatient of the delay. " What is my mother's decision "She says it is useless to oppose your determination, and that you may bring your wife home ?" " May ?" " I think she said may." "Recollect, she is to be mistress." " I seek not the position." "You are too inanimate for aught hut ress and nonsense." " You are right, dear brother. I am going to order an elaborate toilet for your marriage." "'Then you do not oppose it ? " I don't know anything about it; mama says " Have you no opinion of your own ?" " You always quarrel with me when ever we speak—you are very disagreea ble." have not time to argue anything more at present, but must hasten to Emilie. On Thursday I bring her here to be married. Can everything be ready ?" "I am sure I don't know. It won't occupy me a day in preparing my toi lette." " Always yourself." Without waiti❑ for a reply Eustace left the house, and hastened to Emilie, who impatiently awaited him. " Come at last?" "Yes, Emilie, darling. it is all over. I bring you their welcome, but do not build too much upon it. " I understand your meaning. I know what I will have to contend with, but I am more capable than you think of holding my position without strife or confusion." I long to test your skill, and have, therefore, fixed Thursday for our mar riage." A blush, a squeeze of the hand and a long pause was the only reply from Em ilie, who was to modest to express the delight she felt, and too truthful to feign surprise, or in any way to belie her feelings. The house of Eustace wash' complete uproar; for the ensuing three days everybody except Louise was busy; Madame Desmon accepted her position with as good a grace as possible appar ently. She had never been en tete-a tete with Eustace since their conversa tion in her boudoir, nor did he seek what he saw his mother was so anxious to avoid. Thursday morning at last arrived, then the afternoon, and finally the eve- ' experienced when she saw the prepa ning. Had there been a month In ' rations in honor of her daughter. If which to prepare for the event nothing her heart did for an instant warm to could have been more complete than wards Emilie, all such feelings were the arrangement of everything. There stilled. At eight Louise, her mother were as many guests as days in the year, and Emilie were all in the saloon await as much display and pomp as for a coring their guests. Louise was magnifi °nation, and as much bustle and hurry eently attired, and Emilie looked not as usual on such occasions. ; less elegant in her whit 6 satin with an Emilie, who had had never seen her immense train of white velvet. Eustace mother-in-law since she trimmed her was quietly admiring his wife, and if last bonnet, was as nervous and pale as the truth were confessed so was Madame "though she was a lady," mentally Desmon. thought Louise, who kissed her brother's , A stillness pervaded the room, but it choice, gave her a handsome present, was suddenly broken by a violent pull. and asked her opinion on the arrange- lug of the street bell, and then all unu- meat of her hair. The ceremony was quite impressive and touching—three things impossible, except where love presides. - Half an hour after the ceremony the happy cou ple were on their way for an extended tour; then, and not until then, did Ma dame Desmon feel happy; she then thoroughly enjoyed herself, and utterly forgot the wedding and her dislike to it. But three weeks after, when she read the letter to Louise that announced the return of the absent, her content forsook her and her determination to rebel against all usurpation of her former rights became stronger. Louise was passive as usual ; she had been assured by her brother that his marriage would deprive her of nothing ; beyond that,she cared not; therefore she only frowned as her mother gave vent to her fancied injury, nor did she frown at what her mother read, but at the interruption to herself, being at that moment deep in deciphering a pattern in the latest mag azin des modes. 111-feeling, dissatisfaction, all could not avert the arrival of Eustace and his wife—both radiant in their own happi ness. Emilie quietly assumed her rights, and ignored all sneers or advice, both of which there were plenty. Madam Des mon's greeting was cold in the extreme ; Louise was out, and when she returned the arrival of Emilie was too old to be taken notice of by her. Etienne alone embraced his sister, kissed her, called her Emilie, and evidently felt the pleas ure he gave vent to. A few days sufficed to see his wife comfortably settled in her new house ; then Eustace once more turned to his studio for occupation, and with Emilie to suggest, approve and admire, he was the happiest of men; he rarely left home without his wife, and in all she was as she ever had been since he loved her, the first and only consideration. Emilie came rarely in contact through the day with Madame Desmon, and no one in terfered with her, and yet she was not quite happy, for she felt she was only , tolerated, not liked. When she became better acquainted with the domestic ar rangements through the house, she planned and ordered alterations—they I were countermanded quietly but posi tively. For a moment Emilie hesitated as to the best course to pursue. To tell leer. Eustace was the last thing in her „He is not here." thoughts, but to hasten to Madame Dl`,4- "We would search." mon was her resolve; she found her, .. ( .„ t „i„l y. " looking calm and well pleased with her- " Haste then, "and take him quietly, self. ; for we give a ball here this evening, and "Why do you come here!" she ab- ; wish to conceal all disturbance," coolly ruptly asked. ! spoke Emilie. To question madame by what right . Heartless," thought the officer, but you interfere with my commands ?" lie said nothing. Careful examination " They were absurd." I of Um adjoining rooms followed, but of " I shall take, then, the liberty of pre- • course without success. venting a recurrence of such interfer- We are satisfied, and beg Monsieur ence. " Will pardon the intrusion." Hastily ringing the bell, Emilie stood „ Stop a moment, officer. We will silent; when it was answered, she sum- give you a thousand francs for your moned to tier presence all the domestics. I strict silence," said Emilie. Surprise paralyzed the tongue of Mad- "We will obey." acne Desmon. Turning to the surprised ' , See that you do," added Eustace, as servants, Emilie sternly said to the of- I the officers were escorted by him to the fending ones: "I gave you certain or- ,loor. ders to-day ; you disobeyed me; you "Do not move, Etienne, until Eustace are discharged; if your fellow-servants j returns. No one speak," came sternly choose to take you for example and re- , from the lips of Emilie, and no one dare main, well and good ; tire first one who I disobey her. disobeys: me is discharged—recollect. Eustace returned almost instantly, You may go. Now, madame, you see looking stern yet sorrowful. I am riot to be thwarted." Slowly Etienne crept from the folds of "You will ruin my son—you will , rich white velvet, not whiter than his make him hated by all—you yourself i face. will be—" " Respected, madame. I have the in- • terest of my husband too much at heart, as well as that of his family, to injure him in the least ; but I our his wife, and as such I will be treated." "'Then if you have his interest so much at heart, why continue in your j extravagance I."' " My extravagance ?" "Yes; I saw bill to a large amount in I your name for jewels and other fancy articles." I never!—but this is folly to explain to you. For what I purchase I have the full approval of my husband. Madame, I thank you for the information you have given me; I wish you adieu for the present." As Emilie left the presence of her mother-in-law she encountered Eti enne. " I seek you, Etienne—l wish imme• diately to see you." " Certainly:sweet sister." Leading the way to a retired room, Emilie closed the door. "Etienne, to you I attribute certain purchases of which I have been ac cused." " I admit it, but forgive me this time; I it shall be the last." "And shall I have my husband chide me?" "You would not tell him '.'" What was your object in such extrav agance?" This—l ant poor, that is, compara tively, as you know; I have never been used to work, my mind is unfitted for employment. The position I hold is of course equal to my brother's ; I must sustain it. He refuses to assist mess lie does my mother and sister." You have sufficient income to "Do not interrupt me. I have fallen in love with a woman beautiful as Venus, and rich as beautiful ; she would freely wed me, but her love of wealth is at present paramount. Could I but win her heart she will yield it to me freely and forget my poverty ; for this I have courted her, pleased her fancy, lavished 1 everything on her that art could devise, I my income failed to meet the expense ; I did that which you in your gentleness will forgive ; I used you as a means to pay a few of the bills I could not meet. I swear this is my last. Did my mother know it, it would kill her, she exalts my I discretion and my imaginary virtues; the only one I possess is consciousness of my unworthiness to the title of man." I " You are good at heart, Etienne, and this time I forgive ; never of thus again." There will be no occasion, for soon shall I have the entire love of the one j for whom I sinned." "I trust so. Now I must hasten to Eustace, to his studio." I " Bless you, Emilie." Eustace wondered at the delay of his wife, but her presence soon set to flight wonder, and all but the happiness of her presence. " You have been cobweb limiting through the house, eh, wife ? You will find much to sweep away." " I have been making a few alters ' tions, and you I know will approve." " What says my mother ?' " A little opposition, of course ; but that is no matter." " I want to speak to you of my brother." " Why of him ? " " I fear Ile is on the road to irrevoca ble ruin." " By what do you judge? " " I hear it outside. I shall do nothing for hint ; he is clever, young, and ought to be ambitious ; he should find occupa tion. I can give him an enviable posi tion, he refuses it. Therefore, I repeat, I will assist him." " What has he done to require assist , ance?" "Got into debt, and no means to get out." " Have you remonstrated r " Yes, but uselessly." " Then I know not what to advise, unless it be change of scene." " A capital idea, and one I will assist him to carry out if he will adopt it." "I am sure he will. Now I want to tell you that I am going to give Louise a ball on her twenty-first birth-day,which is a week from to-day. It is my inten tion to have her speedily married. It is her only salvation from herself—her worst enemy." "My wife is right again; but Louise little deserves the kindness you show her." " We shall see in good time if she de serves it or not." Louise was grealy delighted at the ball ; Madame Desmon ridiculed it, as another extravagance, and Etienne, who had positively refused to go away, took little or no notice of it at all. He seemed lately to be thoughtful and mo rose, caring little for anything. No one took any notice of him, however, and he sought none. The evening of the ball arrived. Mad ame Desmon concealed the delight she al tramp of feet. It is early for animals," suggested Emilie. "'There was some bungling, doubt less, in your invitations," sneeringly replied Madame Desmou. " Did you write them, nother," quiet ly remarked Eustace, endeavoring to pass off his mother's ill-nature playfully. Ere reply could be made, the door was violently thrown open, and Etienne, pale and staggering rushed in. "'They seek me, mother 1" " Who ? In heaven's nano explain." " The officers of justice." " What " Question not, but save nie. They conic. Even now I hear them ap proach." " What do I hear. Tell me instantly what you have done?" demanded Ens tare of his brother. " I have forged the name of an ae tiwkintanee. In heaven's name, save inc. You, Emilie, you will save me ?" " I refuse to aid you, Etienne." " Vile, unwortliy brother!" As such I denounce you!" exclaim ed Madame Desmon. Hark! 1 hear the approach of the officers. To you, I ap peal, to you Emilie. Save the family whose interest you have so at heart from disgrace. Save my sun, and I will be to you a slave. What you will." " What can I do? Eustace, I Implore you to save him." " I refuse." " Footsteps approached the door. There is nu egress—none." Placing her hands for a moment to her head, Emilie thought. " I will—yes I eon save hint or the present. Rise Madame Desmon from your knees, look unconcerned. Eustace, on pain of losing my love, re veal nothing. Quick, Etienne, down on your knees." And taking the pow erless Etienne by the shoulders Emilie forced him on his knees, then quick as thought, site swept her train over him, and not a moment too soon, for on the instant the officers opened the door and stood barring it. " What would you ?" demanded Eu sttee. We seek your brother." " For what':" " lie is accused of forgery. Here is my authority," promptly answered the " Heaven sends its choicest blessings to you, Emilie, my best loved child from this moment!" exclaimed Mme. Des mon, weeping and embracing Emilie, whose anxious eyes were fixed on her husband. He returned her gaze coldly. Tears ran slowly down the face ho loved so well, and the hand bearing the wed dingl, ring he had placed there was ex tended suppliantly to him, as with the other his wife pointed to the stricken mother and penitent brother. Only for a moment did Eustace resist that appeal. He opened his arms for his wife, gave his hand to his brother, while turning to his mother he said: " He is forgiven, mother, for the sake of this angel, my wife, your daughter." can accomplish anything," was all Louise had to say. " The guests arrive. Prepare to re ceive them, mania, and you, too, Etien ne ; it is best. To-morrow you will leave here. Hostile° has a position of importance for you. You will go? " How can I ever reward you, dear Emilie ? " "By letting your future be a bright contrast to your past." " It shall be so." Quickly the guests arrive, and they never expressed themselves so well en tertained. They departed at a late hour, little imagining the scene that had been enacted where they danced and enjoyed themselves. Nor did they fancy how welcome was their departure. The next day Eustace left Paris for England a changed man, far happier and wiser than years could have rendered him. Eustace never refers to his action. Daily was he rewarded for it by seeing his wife the idol of his mother's heart, the confidante of Louise, and in every way the light, life, and soul of his home. True Heroism The battle of Aliw•al fought on the SSth day of January, 1.446. It was the bloodiest in modern history up to that time ; since then it has been eclipsed in its sanguinary character by Inkermann, by Sulferino, and by Sado wa. At one time, the Sikh cavalry had well nigh captured Sir Harry Smith himself, who was obliged to shift his position in consequence. At this mo ment, an officer on his stall was struck down by a fragment of shell, which shattered his right thigh and hip joint in a hideous Manner. Some men of his troop, seeing him fall, obtained leave to run to his assistance, and in a few min utes lie was on a stretcher, and being carried to the rear. The men were de voted to him, and they carried him through that dreadful field of slaughter with as much care as if conveying a baby in its cradle. When within a short distance of the staff-surgeon's tent, they came upon a private lying desperately wounded. The poor fellow looked up piteously and touched his cap, as he re cognized his officer in agony on the stretcher. Captain C— culled to the men to halt, and to raise him up slightly; leaning over he soon saw the nature of the soldiers wound, which was far less dangerous than his own. " Lift me out," he said ; I can't move; you lift me out; that'll do, gently—yes, that's broken too," (as they touched his spine.) "So—now carry him to the doc tors ; they can do nothing for me, not too late for him yet—just a little more— so," (facing the enemy,) " that's it." " But, sir " remonstrated one of the men. " Be quick with him, then come back; I'm not likely to leave this spot," he added with a slight smile. The men did as ordered, and deposit ing the wounded trooper, they returned to Capt. C—. He had not, indeed! left that ; he lay facing the enemy still, and the playful smile with which he had addressed to them his last words lingered yet on his face; but his troubles were over ; victory or defeat were now alike to him, and he had left the field of strife for that peaceful world, where dwell the spirits of the just made perfect. The instances of men hopelessly wounded refusing to monopolize the doctor, are by no means rare; and if a battle-field is sometimes the scene of outrages at which humanity shudders, it occasionally provides us with in stances of unsurpassed heroism and self sacrifice. The examination at the West Point Academy was concluded yesterday.— Forty-eight out of the ninety-six candi dates failed to pass and will be sent home. The examination is said to have been the most rigid over held. The steamer City of Hartford struck a sunken rock near Portland, Connec ticut, on Sunday night, whileon her way to New York. She was run ashore and sunk, but is expected to resume her trips in about a week. Part of her pas sengers returned to Hartford; the rest, with the freight, were taken to New York by another steamer. NUMBER 27 1:=E1=1 The Tine County Republican Con vention will assemble on the 16th of September. The Democracy of Schuylkill county will hold their County Convention on the 4th of July. The corn throughout the State is re ported as looking remarkably well, not withstanding the excessive wet weather. Robert J. Hemple, a prominent Phil adelphia Democrat, died suddenly on Tuesday, at his residence in that city. The Hon. William H. Upson, was last week re-nominated for Congress by the Republicans of the Eighteenth District. A little girl named Sarah Cori, of Ma rysville, was killed by lightning a few nights ago while lying in her bed. The new Baptist Church, at Lewis burg, Union ccunty, was dedicated on Sunday, and at the morning service $lO,OOO were raised. The school laws of Pennsylvania are undergoing a thorough revision, and will not be ready for distribution for some time. William 11. Kelley and John Cessna, both of whom voted to keep carpet-bag Whittemore in Congress, are s mi o l for re-election. It is stated by the Shippensburg pa pers, that a negro named Levi Kee, will be a Republican eandidate for Sheriff this fall in Cumberland county. Samuel Schlegel and William Miller, butchers, were shot at b\• highwaymen while riding into Reading, on Tuesday night, for the purpose of attending inar- The Reading lilts Company II:IVO re duced the price of gas to $3 per thousand feet. Even at the apparently low price the eompany have just declared a divi dend of 5 per cent. The thermometer stood at 9.") yester day, in Philadelphia; five eases of sun stroke were reported. In New York the thermometer marked 90, and eight eases of sunstroke were reported. On Monday morning a dog belonging to Mr. O. Orth, while lying on a wheel barrow, in front of the Rainbow Engine House, Reading, was so badly frighten ed by a torpedo thrown close to him by a boy, that he died in a short time. Thomas Langdon, driver of the Frank lin Engine Steamer, of Germantown, was thrown from his seat while going to a fire on Wednesday morning, and had an ankle crusher and the other foot badly injured by the wheels run ning over him. l‘fary E. Reynolds enticed a man named Arthur Clarke in to a by way, near Seventh and Lombard .tits., Phila. Here he wus attacked by John Dully and George Spencer, who garroted him and then robbed hint of n watch and slr, in money. All three were arrested and committed to answer. The real "Shißella' Day" of the pe riod, will be the Second Tues,lay ,if next October, when the Radical " lting" will be broken to pieces by the indig nant people. The bruisers will then be bruised, and among the Radicals, sore heads will be as " plenty as blackber ries." " Let us have peace:" We regret to record the death of Wm. Stern, late elation agent at Chadd's Ford, on the 1' &B. C. It. It, On the '2oth ult., he was conversing with his wife, when he was suddenly taken ill and expired in a few minutes. He was about 30 years of age, and was highly esteemed by all who knew him. On Saturday a riot occurred in Phila delphia, between the Gray Reserves and a crowd of boys and adherents of the Good Will Engine Company. The row was caused by a Reserve chastising a boy for stealing. Several of the Reserves were badly hurt, and the wire guards were torn from their armory doors and windows. John Wagner, aged about 31 years, six feet high, with mark on left side of the face, wearing a brown suit, left 'his home on Friday, the lUth inst. Ile has not been heard of since, and any infor mation concerning his whereabouts will be thankfully received by his wife, Anna Wagner, Jaysburg, Lycoming county, Pa. Exchanges will confer a favor upon a poor woman in distress by copying this notice. There is a man named Ilaily, living near Hamburg, Ilerks county, who is now quite an old man, and has large possessions. Sixty-four years ago—in 18W—he purchased a wagon loaded with lumber, at a public sale, and vowed that it should not be unloaded while he lived. It is housed in a wagon-house, and the lumber bears an old arid worn appearance. The wagon is in a good state of preservation, with good !wavy tires. A man named John Sites, was con victed at January sessions of malicious mischief and assault and battery, and sentenced to the Cumberland county jail. A short time before the April ses sions he made his escape front jail, and, on his return to Quincy township, stole some clothing. The Sheriff pursued him and succeeded in arresting him, and committed hint to jail again.— Strange to say, lie escaped agaii, last week. On Saturday last, David Peoples, aged 19 years, was drowned at Frank ford, Pa., while bathing. Information was at once sent to the lad's uncle, Samuel W. Evans, and while he, lEvans,l was at the place of the accident, waiting for the recovery of the body, he received word that his own wife was dead. The news of the death of her nephew reused such a shock that her own death was produced from an affection of the heart, of which she had at times complained. Georgia has produced a cahhage he four feet across. An Illinok farmer e.ost,3 him eye over a corn field of 5,30 n aeres. Chicago has an organ grind. r worth 575,000, who still grinds away. There is much music in the lay of the mocking bird, but unsentimental peo ple prefer the lay of the domestic fowl. A dead dog is better than a living lion, ahnply for the reason that you can make sausage meat of 1.144, former, whereas the other may make mince-meat of you. The branch road iron' Somerset, Pa., to connect with the Pittsburgh and Con nellsville Road at Mineral Point is to be let to contractors at an early day. It is proposed to push this enterprise. A petition is being signed at Paris asking that the (jrand Rabbi Isitior should be nominated Senator—a dignity to which no member Of the llebrew persuasion has ever attained. It is said that over 1,000 persons have been converted at the National Camp Meeting, just terminated in Massachu setts, among whom are a Japanese and New York prize tighter. The New York Sun (Radical) says: "How lucky for the United States that Ulysses S. Grant wasn't Kingof France in 1776, with Don Hamilton Fish for his Prime Minister! Montreal Is to have a new style of steam omnibus, the tires of the wheels are fifteen inches thick, covered with vulcanized rubber. No rails are required and the engines make no noise to fright en horses, etc., and can be stopped al most instantly. Miss Charlotte Cushman is on her way home from Rome, and does not expect to return to that city until November of next year. The friends of Miss Cush man, one of the greatest women Amer ica has produced, should give her a fit ting reception. A case of feminine daring is related of a Virginia belle, who rode to the edge of a precipice, and defied any man of the party with whom she was riding to follow her. Not a man accepted the challenge; but a tantalizing youth stood on his head in the saddle, and dared her to do that. As the regular freight train of cars on the P. W. & B. It. It., was passing North East, after night-fall one evening this week, some cowardly — person, un der cover of darkness, threw a stone at the engine and hit the fireman, com pletely disabling him for a few mo ments. Hon. George H. Pendleton, of Ohio, delivered an address before the literary societies of the University of Virginia, at Charlottesville, Va. A large audi ence was present, and the speaker was much applauded. His subject was the progress of the human race as the re sult of the efforts of individual men. At Baltimore, yesterday, the office of the Maryland Fire Insurance Company was robbed of a trunk containing U. S. Bonds and other Securities to the amount of $150,000. The robbery was commit ted while a stranger was negotiating for the insurance of a house at Richmond, Vi rgi n ia. • RATE OF ADVERTISING ErCITNESS ADTFULTIIISZINNTS, EU a year Dor equre of tin /MU: IS Der year for , each addi tional aquaria REAL ESTATE ALT/121'13MM, /0 etnts a line hot the first, and 6 aunts for each eubeequeut In- Insertion. OZNERAL TISING, 7 Doran line tor the first, and 4 aunts for eugh subsequent inser tion. SPECIA.r.NoncEs Inserted In Local Column+ li meta pie Una. Spacial, NoTtcra preceding marriages and deaths, 10 mute per line (or first Insertion, sad soents for eTery subsequent Insertion. LSOAL AND assn NOTIGUaI-- Executors' notices Administrators' notice Asaigneal' noticas Auditors' notices Other "Notices," ten lines, or less, three times Tho Negro In the Gulf Ntatles The New York Worid publishes in no editorial article the result of a recent inter view with an old citizen of Louisiana, who is a large business man, and has aliment.' acquaintance with the social and individual status of that section. He represents that the labor problem is rapidly being success fully solved in Louisiana. Wu quote a portion of this article: We learn from this intelligent person that emancipation is not regarded as an evil by the owners of the Southern plantations, and that they heartily acquiesce in free labor. The negroes aro reasonably industrious, and aro improving every year under the wages system. HO has purehased and stocked a large sugar plantation, and his description of this enterprise gives a Mir idea of the relations at present subsisting between the °sellers of land and Iho labor ers. Ile has engaged his laborers for the year, paying them $lB per month of twenty six days, furnishing each family W till a cottage and garden free of rent, and making each a weekly allowance of Ind taut meal and pork or bacon equal to the allowance formerly made to slaves. The cottages have oast hint $3OO each to build; They aro surround ed Sr it h gardens in which he has planted fig, orange and other fruit trees, and he has assigned to each family an acre of land on the plantation to cultivate in odd hours by tlounselves and their woolen and children. Ile informs us that this is a eommon arr a ngement on the Louisiana plantations. The wages of the heads of fam ilies is paid monthly ; the women and children being employed at daily wages in such labor as they are capable of perform nag anal paid at the end of each week. Boys wlm can drive a team receive twenty- live cents a day, and women who work in the field front fifty toseventy-live cents. Medi cal attendance is provided by witholding fifty cents a month, or six dollars a year, from the wages of each laud; this money being paid to a 11113 , it . Cet to the call of any family needing his services.- The sante physician has a similar ar rangement with a sufficient 111101ber of plantations to bring hint about $3,000 a year --a very good income for it country doctor. Although the laborers aro hired by the year, both planters and laborers are in the habit of dissolving the engagement when ever either become dissatisfied, the wages being paid up to the time when the laborer leaves or is discharged, The plantation we have described is a sample of thousands of others in the salmi State. It conveys pleasing and satisfactory pleture of the con dition of the negroes and the disposition of the emplovers. Tho negroes aro content, and the planters apprehend no trouble. The labor problem is regarded as solved to the satisfaction 14 ' both partbas. Ile tells us that the social problem worth he no problem at all if it wore nut fur 111C11 - dlemumucarpet - bag interference. A law has been passed by the 'carpet-hag Legislature of Louisiana giving negroes equal rights In schools, theatres, hotels, and public 1,11- voyanees; but this is something which the negroes themselves do not care for and have never demanded. It is repulsive and tell ous to the whites, and In their presetiL tem per they will never submit to it. They w ill willingly be taxed to support separate free schools for the black chi ldren; the street railroad companies in S owOrleans are ready to give up every other car to the negroes ; but asscciation and contact are repelled as indignities, and, as a general rule, the 110- grous do not claim this kind of equality.-- The attempts which have been made to en force it have utterly failed. The keeper of the largest Ice-cream establishment in New Orleans refused to lot a negro sit in the Borne saloon with his white customers, and was indicted under tho law. When the trial came on, a mixed jury of whites and blacks disagreed ; ono negro being against conviction, and two of six or seven white Jurymen in favor of it. They were finally discharged by the Court, and that was the end of the prosecution. No trial in a sim ilar case could have any other result, as no jury, unless it were packed, would ever agree to convict a man under this odious law. Every law of that kind will be a dead letter, as there is no possibility of mmen- ti rent Britain and Canada The late Fenian raid has provoked in Canada a degree of foolingagalwit the Brit ish government which was not anticipated. The party in favor of maintaining tie Brit ish connection is now the chief malcontent. The imperial authorities have recently told the Canadians that from henceforth they !oust protect themselves in a larger Inca suro than they have done hitherto. In Pursuance of this notice they are withdraw ing the troops, with the exceptions of two regiments, one of which is to remain at Halifax and the other at Quebec. In the midst of this change of policy the tempest at Winne peg broke out, and England de manded that Canada should pay a propor tion of the cost of Its suppression. I !movie. grumbled at the demand, on the ground that the territory was beyond her borders; but ultimately she acquiesced in it. A few months later the Fenian raid took place, and but for the millitia it:now appears that the invaders might have had undisturbed possession of the borders for several days ere the imperial troops could have reached them. . . After the repulse of the Fen lane, the English press complimented the United States government for its efforts In checking the invasion, and snubbed lieneral Lindxnv, the commander of the Canadian troops, for giving the sole credit to the Canadian mil itia. All these things have made the Dentin ionites very wrathy. They claimed that (leneral Lindsay should be a better author ity than some Cockney littrodrur, who may have never been beyond " the sound of Bow Bells." They say that if their country is to be a battle-ground for disputes which they have no share in creating, (Ireat 13ritain, while mho claims her sovereignty, should be at the sole expense of contesting them and that, as they paid us the loss by the St. Alban's raid, wo should defray their expenses in repelling the Fenians. Accordingly, a member of the Canadian Cabinet has been sent to the Court of St. James to urge these claims; and already the Englinh press tells him he has (.mllOl,ll "a fool's errand." This intimation has warmed the Canadian mind to fever heat. Boards of trade, the public press, and pub lic meetings aro busily denouncing the im perial authorities and demanding redress. At a public meeting recently held in Montreal we notice that, amid some oppo sition, resolutions were tarried to the effect that, 11.4 Fenian raids were provoked by muses in which Canada had no part, she ought not to be inflicted with them or OX peeted to pay for their repulsion ; that Great Britaiu should ha urged to maintain a sufficient force in the provinces to repel such invasions, and to demand from the United States an indemnity for the past and guarantees that no similar inroads shall he permitted in the future. The party in favor of Canadian indepen dence reply that Great Britain will not change her present policy, and that these complaints furnish arguments for inde pendence. This party assumes that a sev erance from the mother country will not only remove every motive for future Fenian visits, hut induce a renewal of the much coveted reciprocity treaty and larger com mercial relations with ourselves. Their opponents, while, perhaps, secretly concurring in the force of these arguments, nevertheless oppose independence, from a belief that independence is but a converti ble term for annexation—a pill which they are not yet strong enough to swallow. Wo can assure them that the United States aro supremely indifferent as to whether they may become annexed to thin country or not. Wo leave them to their choice. If they cannot get on "by their mother's apron-strings," nor get on alone, we may take compassion on them, if they should so desire. between these provinces and Great Britain cannot lost. This Is felt by all parties there. Either she must yield to their de mands or they must sever the connection. In view of this probable loss of her colonies it requires no prophet's pen to predict that without them she must ultimately sink too second-class power. Australia and the other colonies will sooner or later follow the Ca nadian example ; and, with the limited ter ritory of Great Britain, and the growth of manufactures and commerce in other quar ters of the world, her supremacy will be eclipsed.—X. Y. World. That Largest Refracting Telescope A statement is going around in the press that the largest refracting telescope ever constructed-32 feet long, 10 feet 0 inches in circumference, with an object glass 23 inches in diameter—has been recently man ufactures! in York. The Pennsylvania papers added the word, " Pa." 'rho Gotha mite press made it " New York," and claimed great credit for the Rk ill of their astronomical instrument makers. Now the fact is that that telescope never was made in this country, but In York, England, by the celebrated makers, T. Cooke st: Son, and it having been calculated that the compara tive impurity of the atmosphere prevailing in Great Britain will hardly allow a clear and unobstructed sight through suels a powerful Instrument, it will be set up in an observatory on the Isle of Madeira, Portu gal, where the transparency of the air is best adapted for astronomical observations. California Statistics show the total annual value of the industrial products of California to be $182,000,000, comprising $59,000,000, or 43 per cent., for agriculture; $75,000,000, or 40 per cent., for manufactures, and $27,060,(X)0, or 13 per cent., for mining. Tho two for mer branches aro increasing, while the last is decreasing in absolute and relative im portance. The total exports of the State In 1869 were: $58,000,000, or more than $lOO to the inhabitant ; whereas the exports of (}reat Britain are only 820, and of the United States as a whole only $lO to the inhabitant.