THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
thYBLISEIED VVISILY WEDFESDAY BY
11. G. SIIITII•& co
A. J. STEINILA_N
0. SMITH
Ilara per annum payable
in all mire In advance.
•
TILE LANCASTER DAILY INTELLIGEXCEE.
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
tr, per annum in advance.
OFFICE-SOLTTIIWEEST CONIC EP. OB CENTRE
QUARE.
V carp.
They are falling, slomvly
Thick upon the forest side,
Severed from the noble branches,
Where they %raved in beantreus prid,
They are falling In valleys,
Where the early violets wring,
And the birds In runny spring t Inn•
"trot their dulcet mush; ring.
They are falling•, sadly falling,
CloNe bralJr oar euttngc dour;
Pale and faded, like the loVed
They have gone forever more.
They'are falling, and the sunbeam,
Rhine in beauty soft around ;
Yet the faded leaves are falling,
Falling on t mossy ground.
They are falllnu 01 the slxcalnlct,
'l'hcre t hc slier) salon
A 11,11111.11 ITS placid bosom
Onward with tho waters gn.
They are falling In the church-yard
Winn , our kindred sweidly slccp
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11 . 01 . tln loved .M'S swop.
Tin.) . aro falling,
Wik. tin: .11.1111111 Sigh,
When gU
Bright upon the midnight idly.
falling, whrn the 11 . 1111/I,L
Mauna roar,
Wheal winds :mil billaur
Sadly nigh
l'll‘.y are fa 1111 1 ,,, they are Ili 11111
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To Iltl• sunny of chIlditoo:1,
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.%tal all Elm ,!:y par.. will al a main.
hlowA ht...,.•3111‘,4 “ut
Cho last Nwcct
that -
Pale NVfl, iii 16titel.•
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r', r n '" ,lr !I.!
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Ult. ' s 1114 . 1.o:1 v., begin I, fall
,l.prza . ..; Nwatill•rposvaNvay
The gl,ry alai 1111011,, II:ty clay
I le par I alai S,/011 I 11l qulct gravt . folds all.
Ii thoughtful gl,y, how roan) eye, in vain
A, lifted to sour laetuts . , lull of learn!
How 111:111y loetrt, g Intel; through all the
I Ivavy‘vit cager with I nneSt OEI ig Iwiit
r... 1 111.• din) 11.•rall obi:tilt
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th..y 111:ky
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Than chin: Inuit! \oll, istiin•.
The grain Inn' 1,14011 :1 .4.h14-11 411111 -
The grape, 1111 nntlos..f.nt tint
I , nun Sunnnors hrstins sinl;
Ana l'lns•rnil I . meta, rnllllll
1111 tip 1~l :In~l iley:tri I. 1.1,111 y 1,1%1'110,1
In niney saw 1 Inesll.l,l-s
The vllisters ra111.14
v:t1o, who!.
And With Shepherd MUSIC ron“,
A lovellor SI . 1•1,1 . 1 . 01/1./ nhn
Th.U.lrt • olit-light ho of (lola
...hi on llold :ul.l fold,
On col InE4.• roof nod hold.
r In Illio.-worn .•r.1.4 aIIII ruin old.
dire., nail 11....v01'y
,vii , ll a
Itl-41:ty,
\VIII blurs the 1011•11,11
virteya.rds ,111.1vt•I ill Ills Irrl,tlll,
.Iml i,II 1111. 1,,111,11i1 •
M[ONVeii thr.vll by 1111 Dcatli
litlts,Lll 11arv1 , 1 111 !
1:11,11.1 old clvit.•:ilix
41:.m1.1 I ....It.lll r lend.
Wht•ri• are lb , - •I Lin ;
11:1111;
Wit gory 1.111
Rnnu•yo for : ••yo Lai
This Is A mint iWI 'I•:II-- ICI
snryt• Inn ninl. of I 00-.1,n1 nrood,
Vl . ollllViliCh „'ell Ow h wore Irood
Anis! itnrkOw yo
In Mtd..oll' alihatoir.
ftliuctlanrous.
A Verlloui Honeymoon
CI Iye :11111 / Wt . ft• engaged to tie mat.-
ried, tool had been so about three
months. We had known melt other a
great many ; and he °Dell eAllle
down to the rectory, till one day, in a
very unromantic manner, he asked me
if he I would be his wife; and though
there had been none of the sighing's, and
jealousies, and heart burning , we read
about. I knew that, in toy foolish lit
tle way, I was very fond of Clive, and
feeling how good, :Lod true-hearted, and
strong he was, and how glad I ought to
l , that he would sloop to such a poor,
little, insignificant girl ins I was, I look
ed up in his bravo, handsome face,
which I could hardly see for the team
swimming in my eyes, and then I said
yes, I would
; :did then for a while I
was clasped close to his breast; and it
seemed to me that there could be no
Car,: or trouble in this world, and
all that I hail to do was to nestle there
to be safe from till life-storms to come.—
Ire kissed me then, gently and lovingly,
and somehow I felt very happy---so
happy, that when my uncle, who hail
brought ine up nom a child, came into
the room, I did not flinch hastily away,
but went to him quietly, and clung to
his arm, while Clive, iii his bold, open
way, said : " Mr. (trace, Mary has pro
mised to lie my wife."
(inch, shook hands with him warmly,
and patted my cheek as he drew me
closer to hint ; and after that, matters
went on in a very quiet, unexciting
way for three months, Clive coining
down on Saturday night, and slaying
till Monday morning, when he return
ed to his Mlle,: in the city, and in those
days we quietly to talk about the
future; how in years to come we were
to be married, and how we were to plan
and contrive about our little income,
taking a cottage somewhere six or eight
miles from town, and living very spar
ingly, :nit' Charley's salary was any
thing but high. Our planing though
was needless; for one day Clive came
down in great haste, imil I could see by
Ids face that he had important news to
. -
communicate; and so it proved. 11. e
had 10!(.11 aAkcd by Ilk employers, a
large merchant firm, NviteAlier he would
like to accept another appointment.
" Rut it advantageous?" I asked.
" Yes," he said in a (miet, strangv
way; " six hundred a year."
''Six hundred a year, Clive!" I eK
vlainlvd; " why, we shall be rich,"
" Rich? yes," he said, taking my
hand; " but there is a drawback."
"A drawback'!"
" must sign ILII agreement
serve them for six years eelLai n."
" Well;" I said, " but not that ad
vantatzeous
" Perhaps," he said, looking very hard
in lily eyes as he spoke ; " hilt l have
not told you where it is."
" Not abroad, Clive!" I exclaimed as
a sudden pang shot through me.
" Yes, love, abroad—in Java—at a
Dotell station."
" But you cannot,novept i t,
years—you will not leave nu, 7" Then
I checked inysolr, ai I thought of my
sel,:,,liness, and it struck inn that I woo
gon.„; to be a sturnbling.bloek in his
Bath, when fortune was within his
grasp.
" Do you wiAli ow to give up, Mary ?"
he said.
" Yes—nn, no, Clive; I ant selfish,
exclaimed ;
` you mtv.:tnut throw it up
--!t would be destroying your future
prospects. It seems hard to bear—hard
to wait for six years; but we must be
patient."
1 could say no inure, for the tears I
had striVell to keep back would come;
but the next moment he held me sob
bing in his arms as he whispered, " Is
there no way of getting over the diffi
culty, darling?"
I looked up in his fare, for, for a few
moments did not see_ what he meant;
but the next minute I was clinging to
him, weeping silently ; and so it fell out
that at eighteen I was my dear hus
band's girlish littlewife—so girlish that,
as we ascended the side otthe great ship
Balavian, at Gravesend, I saw the sail
ors whispering to one another, and I
felt my cheeks burn, because I kitew
that they wee saying I was Buell a mere
child. For a was all like a dream—that
hurried wedding, and the hasty prepar
ation for our voyage. My uncle had
said that it would be suicidal for Clive
to give up so good an appointment; and
though he felt it bitterly, he considered
with Clive that six years was too long a
separation. "Had it been three," he
said, "ho would have considered it our
duty to wait;" but as it was for the
longer period, he yielded easily to
Clive's solicitations, and in one short
fortnight all was settled—farewells had
been said, and the great ship was slowly
sailing down the ever-widening river.
daw XatttaOta Aradlityrt?ett
VOLUME 71
It seemed so strange, so wonderful,
that it required at times the reassuring
touch of Clive's hand to make me rea-
lize the Let that we were bidding fare
well to the old country. But so it was ;
and th gh my heart was sore at parting
from my uncle, yet that sorrow was
min led with so much happiness that
I fet r I did not think enough of his
pain
T 1 e days glided by even as the great
shit glided past the shores of the old
country, and soon we had seen the last
of the great rock-point which they told
me was the Lizard, and we were at sea.
Had I been a queen, I could not have
had more attention paid to me; the
captain, mates, and even the hum
blest sailor, always had a smile for me ;
and as we reached in time the hotter re
gions, there was always a summons,and
the best place reserved for poor little are,
whenever tlyingdish, or dolphins, or a
shark was in sight.
The days grew into weeks, and with
almost invariably pleasant weather, the
ship sailed on. There seemed no dan
ger—nothing to apprehend ; and as I
sat with the soft breeze fanning my
cheeks, all the perils of the sea of which
I had read seemed so distant and im
possible, that I could hardly believe the
gentle rippling waves, mid the soft cloud
necked sky, could possibly be guilty of
the cruelties of which we hear.
At last, though, came a cloud, and that
oud seemed to settle upon my hue
unl's brow. I asked him the reason,
id he unwillingly told inc that it was
aeeount of the vessel.
waiiupon one soft tropical tivening
that I elicited that reponse from hint;
mid hcspoke,Redrewuucloser•tohimo him
•,.s we leaned over the side, looking down
at the glittering starlight reflected from
the dark bosom of the sea.
Are you keeping anything from me,
VC I said gently. "Am I not to
kre the trouble as well II.A the happi
•s ol• life
"Trouble, little one," he said—"trou
. ought lit •Vll tO Conie near you."
' should not he happy if I felt
that I did not siuur. all, Clive. By
keeping; me ill ignoranee, you ww•ould be
inflicting the very trouble front Nehich
you screen me."
"Beaten with my own ;IN" lie
said lightly; and then, in an undertone,
I am uneasy, darling, ❑Lout the ves
sel."
"But, why I said. " What is there
to make you uneasy
"Look along the ,teek, and tell roe
what you see."
" \Vital do I see • The man at the
steering-wheel, the men of the watch,
and the four men pumping."
Clive was silent.
" What makes you uneasy, then I
asked, after a while.
Darling," lie said, " you lottl not
asked use, I should not have told you ;
but 1 cannot bring my , elf to seem want
ing, in confidence. I lave you not no
ticed any change in Captain AVelister
and Mr. (
"They have scented a little more
cheerful and merry than usual,'' I said.
"In the cabin—yes; but when on
leek, it has not been so. Mary, dar
ling, I fear there is trouble at hand;
those four men pumping, looks outti-i7
ous."
" Omnious."
"Wes, love. 'Pim. days ago, dme
man was employed pumping; the next
day, two men were at work at once, and
they were relieved again and again ;
yesterday, four men were pumping all
day till evening; to-day, it was com
menced at day-break, and orders have,
I know, been given that it is to be kept
up all night."
"And what does that mean '."' I asked,
though I felt that I knew what the an
swer would be.
' It weans, love, that we are :t thuu
nl front any land, cunt that the
p has sprang a leak."
only a Neat(
. Ltirl then, and very
young, so I hat. perhaps my emotion may
be excused; for I felt a strange catching
of my breath, and it sense of dread steal
ing over me ; but I tried liard to ntaster
it all, and don't think my voice shook
as I laid my hands on Chives breast, and
said: "Dear husband, we are in the
hands of the Almighty ; let us hope thaS
in our weakness we are magnifying the
He caught my hands in his, and held
gazing lit) \VII in my eyes. "And I've
been thinking you a (Mild little girl,
Mary !" lie exclaimed at length. "God
bless you Yours is indeed a brave little
heart."
We were interrupted by a little dis
play of excitement forward, and in the
dim light we could see that the captain
and both the mates were there. Orders
were hurriedly. gdven, and soon there
was the clanking noise of another pump
hard at work, with the splashing of the
water as it streamed down over the side.
Lanterns were busily moving :Wont,
now disappearing below. Then I heard
calls for the carpenter, and the captain
giving loud orders ; and soon after there
was a good deal of bustle. close to the
ship's bows ; and Clive explained tome
that they were ilrawing, a sail under the
bottom, of the ship, so as to try and stop
the flood of water, for it was evident
that the danger was growing greater.
All through that long dark night we
staid on deck, listening to the clanking
noise of the pumps, and the rippling
splash of the water as it ran over the
side ; but when morning broke, it was
evident that tie danger was not lessen
ed. The captain looked pale and anx
ious, and there was a sullen, discontent
ed look about the men, who could only
with difficulty
.be prevailed upon to
keep to their work of pumping. About
mid-day,they broke out in open mutiny,
and refused to pump any longer; for
the carpenter having been sent below,
came up with so had a report that the
men left their work directly, and in
spite of commands, and even threats,
they set their officers at defiance, and
began to make preparations for leaving
the ship.
" Look lucre, Cap'cu• Webster," said
an old bluff-looking sailor, "we're
ready enough to obey, only it ain't no
good to stop here, with the ship sinking
under us. The murder's out now, and
what's the good of lighting again' it:'
She's started a plank, that's what she's
done; and all the pumps, and twice as
many more, could not keep the water
under."
"John Jackson," said the captain,
"you're the last man I should have
thought would torn against your cap
tain."
"So I am cap'n —hang me if I ain't,',
said the man. " no good, lads; I'm
under orders again : who's coming on
toy side *."' -
Three more men came out of the little
group, and followed the bluff old sailor
to where the captain and the 'notes
were standing in front of us; but the
rest of the crew went on stolidly plac
ing water and provisions in a couple of
the boats, and at last launched them,
and were :thou( to push off without a
word, when Captain Webster threw
them in a compass, and gave theca di
rections which course to steer.
Five minutes after they were rowing
swiftly away, when for the first time
Clive spoke : " Is there no chance of
saving the vessel, Captain Webster.."
"No, sir," was the reply; " not the
slightest. In two hours she will have
gone down."
I shivered as I heard these words; lint
I tried to smile as C m ive glanced round
k ti,
at e; : then. fort to next hour, busy
Old
preparations for leavit g the vessel were
carried on.
The boat left was large and roomy;
and upon its being launched, sails,
toasts, and cordage were placed inside,
with quite a heavy store of water and
provisions, every man working hard ;
and though they smiled at my ettbrts,
I ran backwards and forwards from the
cabin carrying necessaries for our use.
But at last all was declared to be in
readiness, and I was lowered over the
side. Clive quickly taking his place
with me in the boat, where there were
already the four sailors ; then came the
two mates, and lastly the captain.
" You bear witness, gentlemen," he
said, " that I had left nothing undone,
and that it was not until every effort
had failed that I left my ship." He
would have said more, but something
which caught his eye made him shout
to the men to seize their oars, and then,
altogether, they rowed hard away from
the ship's side.
At first I did not know 'Why this was
done, but I soon saw that it was to avoid
the vortex which the sinking vessel
would cause ; for, before five minutes
had elapsed, the great ship began to roll
slowly from side to side—and then, in
spite of myself, I uttered a cry as it gave
a plunge forward, and seemed to dive
down ought of sight, leaving us alone
upon the surface of the great waters.
The night came on, and passed slowly
away, affecting us all with a deep feel-
ing of awe as we thought of the frail de
fence we had against death. To us the
vast ocean, heaving so slowly and regu
larly beneath, seemed then like the
threshold of eternity; and I know that
I trembled as I clung to poor Clive's
arm, in spite of his encouraging words.
But very little was said that night; and
I know that no one slept ; but we all sat
watching and longing for the morning.
At another time, I could have remain
ed rapt with wonder and joy at the glo
rious sunrise, which flooded the whole
surface of the sea with orange and gold,
but there was the sense of the great soli
tude oppressing me always, while
around me were the pale haggard faces
of men who knew the perilous strait in
which we lay. As the morning broke,
though, the captain rose upin the bows,
and stood looking around in every di
rection, to try if he could make out
where the other boats were, but, though
he tried again and again, he could see
nothing ; and we felt that we were alone.
It was not a time for repining, however,
and every man set busily to work, ar
ranging such things as we hal in the
boat ; then a little mast was set up, and
a sail hoisted, which the soft breeze
gently filled ; and the boat began to go
lightly over the swell. After a short
consultation, the captain determined to
sail for the island of Amsterdam, a tiny
speck in mid-ocean, but a place that
might prove to us a haven of refuge till
a passing vessel could take us off; for,
though at the present time the sea and
sky were serene and bright, we did nut
know how soon a storm might arise to
engulf our little frail boat.
One—two—three days Nye sailed on
and then Caine a change--a fierce wind
blowing from the very direction in
which our island lay. First, the sky
grew black with clouds, while the sea
became white and foaming, the waves
each moment curling up inure and inure
fiercely, till they beat against the sides
and splashed over. The boat's course
was altered, the sail lowered all but a
tiny portion, and then the little vessel
began to ride swiftly over the waves,
now leaping up tt great hill of water,
hanging balanced on the foamy ridge,
:Ind then plunging and gliding down
into It depth from which it seemed im
possible that we could ever rise. Then
came a time when every one except the
captain, who sat lade and stern, steer
ing the boat, began to bale out the Wa
ter which constantly dashed over the
sides. Even I would have helped, but
every uric smiled, and tried to make the
part of the boat l was in inure comfort
able, by putting up a portion of the sail
so as to screen me from the spray, which
was now icily cold.
It might be thought that in such a
time of trouble men would Have been
moved by selfish thoughts; but it was
not so, for again and again it seemed to
me that I was made the first considera
tion. When biscuit and water, or wine
were passed round, I received always
the first share; and all through that
wild and fearful time, even the roughest
sailor there was ready to show me re
spect, and try to do some little act to
prove his willingness to serve me. •
For a whole week we were borne
along through that great chaos of trou
bled waters, each moment expecting
seine huge wave to engulf us; and then
slowly the tempest began to abate:—
First, the wind went down, and then by
slow degrees the waves--so slowly,
though, that losing care, now that the
peril was supposed 'to be great, one of
the sailors, who was steering, allowed a
wave to wash right in, deluging the
boat from end to end, so that it seemed
about to sink, and I clung, to Clive, feel
ing that our last hour had come.
The confusion caused by this sudden
danger made matters worse ; and two of
the men plunged overboard with au oar
each, to keep themselves afloat, for they
felt that the boat was going down. But
a few words from Captain Webster re
stored confidence; and, in spite ,;f fa
tigue, the water was attacked, so that
each moment the vessel rose higher, and
at last was entirely free once more.
It was two days, though, before the
sun once again shon;_, out to cheer our
disconsolate state ; disconsolate, indeed,
for in the time of peril the little water
casks had been washed or thrown out,
while the greater part of our provisions
had floated 21WIIV, at a time when every
thought had been devoted towards keep
ing afloat. The biscuit was saturated,
and we were all cold and numbed with
being so long shivering iu the water. It
almost scented to chill our very hearts,
when, upon examination being made of
each bag and case of provisions, tley
were, without exception, found to have
been destroyed by exposure.
" Looking will not mend it, my lads,"
said the captain bravely. "Let us be
hopeful, and tight through it all is well
as we call. Never despair; and recol
lect that, we have a el large here to save
as well as ourselves."
Ile pointed to me as he sfioke, and the
en gave a faint cheer, as, in accord-
anee with Lis orders, the sail was once
more well hoisted, the l,oat trimmed,
and we were once more, skimming over
the sea.
Night, morning--night, morning,
succeeding each other, for I don't know
how many strange and misty days of
horror, with a gnawing pain of hungor
tormenting us, Lipid the pains of thirst
becoming hourly more and more un
bearable. Capt. Webster held up brave
ly, and encouraged us all ; but we could
oily see that we were sailing on to our
death—a death of torment with the
burning sun above us, and the mocking
water around, ever tantalizing, aud, as
it were, asking us to drink, as it lapped
musically against the frail sides, foam-
ing, sparkling and pure. But the cap
tain's advice was not always taken, and
though with a faint smile upon his lip,
Mr. Green, the first-mate, owned to his
weakness, he persisted, during one fran
tic fit of agony, in drinking desperately
the draught that should hasten his end;
for soon he grew delirious, starting as if
spoken to, then leaping up, and want
ing to alter the direction of the boat's
head ; while when a couple of the sailors
tried to restrain him, their weakness
was such that he thrust them aside, and
they sank back in their places, help
lessly gazing at him as lie climbed over
the boat's thwarts, pushed the rope
which held thesail aside, and muttering
angrily, trampled upon me as he made
at the captain who was steering. Clive
tried to stay him ; and in spite of my
effort to restrain it, I uttered a loud
scream, for the poor creature secured to
catch his foot in my dress; and before
we were aware of it, he made a lurch
sideways, and fell heavily into the water.
For a few moments we were all petri
fied; but the captain altered the boat's
course, and run back to the spot where
the mate had disappeared ; but though
we ran to and fro fur sonic time, and
every eye was gazing intently upon the
limpid water, we saw no more of the
poor mate ; and for the rest of that eve
ning I sat with my head bowed down
upon my knees, praying that help might
come.
little boat was almost startling; but it
engendered of despair, and when in the
pale moonlight I looked up again, it
was to have that despair which was in
my breast augmented by the fixed stare
in poor Clive's eyes.
1 did not know it then, but I learned
it afterwards, that my share of the food
and water had been daily augmented
by the half of his, aril now it seemed
that he was dying, and that I was to
lose my sole protector. 1 flung myself
frantically at his feet and tried to speak;
but my mouth was parched and dry. I
looked round for help, but it was only
to gaze on four impassive stony figures,
Whose fixed and heavy eyes responded
not to my appeal. There was a smile
though upon poor Clive's face as he felt
my arms clasp him and slipping from
his seat, lower and lower, he sat at last
in the bottom of the boat with his head
resting upon my breast, while the sigh
of content that he gave sent a shudder
through me, for my heart whispered
that it was his last.
"Throw some water in his face—
moisten his hair," whispered a harsh
voice, which I did not recognize as the
captain's; but I tried to obey it, and
bathed my husband's forehead, though
apparently without effect, for he lay
motionless, his arms lightly circling me
and his eyes half closed; and then it
was that with my bodily power momen
tarily growing weaker, my mental fac
ulties seemed to, become more active,
and my tears fell fast, as I thought how
hard it was for him so young and brave
to die thus early. At times I asked my
self whether I was to blame—whether
I ought not to have dissuaded him from
accepting this post—to have been con
tent with less brilliant prospects at
home. I felt that it was to be the end
That long, long night passed ; and
with the rising sun I gazed upon Clive's
face to find It still and placid as if in
sleep. The captain, who was the only
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING OCTOBER 5, 1870
man who moved, seemed to me—for all
I saw was in a dreamy, misty way—to
secure the rudder, and then crawl for
ward, when he i lpressed a scrap of bis
cuit into my hand, and from a bottle
would have poured a few drops between
my lips, when one of the sailors snatched
at it. There was a moment's struggle,
and the precious liquid fell over the side,
the sailor making a dash at it, and fall
ing half over the boat's edge, to lie with
his faco in the water, too weak to strug
gle back till the captain and the stout
old sailor dragged him in—but the bot-
tle was gone.
A time of bright golden mist, with a
red-hot globe seeming to scorch my
head, and a time of dense black dark
ness, the one mingled with and running
into the other. Then pleasant visions of
green fields and bubbling streams, with
delicious melting fruits hanging over
the bright glistening waters. Then the
old days, with Clive half supporting me
as we wandered in the pleasant lanes,
talking of the happy future. Then,
again, the golden glowing haze, and the
burning heat, the muttering of voices,
the soft fluttering of the sail ; and then
once more the black darkness, mingled
now with the hissing as of mighty
winds ; and then it seemed as if my head
sank upon my husband's neck - , and I
went to sleep.
And it was so; but it was almost the
long sleep of death ; and so near had
been the end, that it was not until after
days of unremitting attention that rea
son returned, and I found that I was ly
ing in a cot in a dimly shaded cabin.—
For a long time I could not realize the
past—could not understand where I was.
There was the heavy motion of a ves
sel, the " wash-wash" of the water hur
rying by, and occasionally a heavy foot
step upon the deck overhead. But at
last came a sign, apparently close at
hand, followed by a rustling noise; and
turning my curious eyes in the direction
it was for them to encounter my hus
band's face, but so careworn, pallid, and
anxious, as to be almost unrecogniza
ble. The next moment my feeble arms
were round his neck, and the tears of
thankfulness were flowing, fur I knew
that we,werc saved.
Saved, indeed; but how near had been
our end may be divined when I relate
that the merchantman which picked us
up passed us in the night ; but the white
sail of our boat attracted the attention of
a sailor ; and upon the vessel's course be
ing changed, the impression at first was
that the duty to be performed was to af
ford Christian burial—a rite, indeed,
needed by the three sailor:4 ; Captain
Webster and the second-mate being the
only other survivors.
A month later, weak, and the shad
ows of our former selves, we were land
ed :it Madras, the destination of the ves
sel which had picked us up; and soon
after, but with many a striver of dread
we re-embarked, to reach Java in safety.
It was not for many months that I re
covered from a strange nervous depres
sion, whose effect was constantly to
bring before me, in all the vividness of
reality, those terrible hours when all
seemed shrouded in a golden haze,
whosescorching heat burned and wasted
the life within me. But by degrees
came restored health and the calmness
of strengthened nerves. We learned
afterwards that the two boats with the
crew were also picked up, after many
days of fearful suffering, similar to that
which marked with indelible lines the
forehead of my husband—a glance at
which at any time is sufficient to bring
utck to memory our fearful ppril, and
he manner in which we we're saved
rem death.
How Dreams are Caused
In order to prove that almost any
dream can with tolerable certainty, be
excited by special classes of stimulants,
Mr. Maury caused a series of experi
ments to lie performed on himself when
ztsleep, which allbrded very satisfactory
results.
First ex periment le caused himself
o be tickled with a feather on the lips
uul inside the nostrils. lie dreamed
hat hi was subjected to a horrible pun
slimend A mask of pitch was applied
o his face and then turn roughly off,
aking with it the skin of his lips, nose
tml face.
Second experiment—A pair of tweez
ers was held at a little distance from his
ear, and struck with a pair of scissors.—
He dreamed that lie heard the ringing
of bells. This was coon converted into
the tocsin, and this suggested the days
of Juue, 1848.
Third experiment—A bottle of eau de
Cologne was held to his nose. Ile
dreamed that he was in a perfumer's
shop. This excited visions of the east,
and he dreamed that he was in Cairo, in
- _
he shop of Jean Marie Farina. Many
urprising adventures occurred to him
Isere, the details of which were Ibrg,ot-
Fourth experiamnt—A. burning luci
fer match was held close to his nostrils.
Ile dreamed that he was at sea the
wind was blowing in through the win
dows), and that the magazine in the
vessel blew up.
Him experimen t—lfe was slightly
pinched on the nape of the, neck. He
dreamed that a blister was applied. And
this recalled the recollection of a physi
cian that had treated him in his in
fancy.
Sixth experiment—A piece of red hot
iron was held close enough to him to
communicate a slight sensation of heat.
lie dreamed that robbers had got into
the house, and were forcing the inmates
by putting their feet to the lire, to re
veal where their money was. The idea
of the robber suggested that Mme.
d'Abran les, who, he supposed, had
taken him for her secretary, and in
whose memoirs he had read sonic ac
counts of bandits.
Seven th sx periinen t—T h e word para
lagaranills was pronounced in his ear.
He understood nothing, and awoke
with the recollection of a very vague
dream. The word niaman was next
used many times. He dreamed of dif
ferent subjects, but heard a sound like
the humming of bees. Several days af
ter, the experiment was repeated with
the words ...Iz.or, Castor, Lconore. On
awakening, he recollected that he. had
heard the last lieu wonh+, and had attri
buted them to one of tine persons who
ad conversed kith 111111 in his dream
Eighth experiment—A drop of water
was allowed to fall on his forehead. He
dreamed that lie was in Italy, that he
was very warm, and that he was drink
ing the wine of Orvieto.
Nii th experiment—A light, surround
ed by a piece of red paper, was repeat
edly placed before hiseyes. Ile dream
ed of a tempest and lightning, which
suggested the rememberance of a storm
he ,had encountered in the English
clifinnel;in going from Merlaix to Havre
. -
These observations are very instrue
ive, inasmuch as they show conclusive
y that oue very important class of our
Ireams is due to our bodily sensation.—
Once a Wcck.
110 tin: . People of .tinnee and Lorraine
Wish Anexation to Prossto?
The Boston Traveler says:
Alsace and Lorraine, notwithstanding all
the German cant about their German char
acter, are of the most thoroughly French of
the various parts of France. They are as
much of the great country to which they
belong in every sense—and which belongs
to them—as aro Brittany and Burgundy,
G Monne and Normandy. Had the question
been submitted to them before the war,
they would have voted to a man against
transference to Germany. They would
sooner have been transferred to Russia than
to Germany. Like all borderers, they hate
their neighbors. What has happened in
the last two months is well calculated alike
to intensify and to justify their hatred.—
The hand of Germany has been laid heavi
ly upon Alsace and Lorraine—and her
hoofs have been stamped all over their soil,
Was ever more cruel and more useless war
fare waged than that which has been carried
on against the fair city of Strasbourg? That
city has been pounded to pieces by the very
people to whom it is proposed to transfer
it! One hardly knows which to admire
most, such a proof of Germany's love of
Alsace in general and Strasbourg in partic
ular, or the mode taken to attach the peoplo
of Strasbourg to their proposed future
countrymen. There was not the slightest
necessity for proceeding against Strasbourg.
There were only eighteen thousand French
troops in the city, and they might have
been watched by a slightly superior force;
but the Germans, as if resolved to prove
they aro the same barbarians that they al
ways have been in war, began regular siege
operations in an irregular manner, destroy
ing the city in order to compel the surren
der of the fortifications. They spared the
French soldiers, and poured their bombs
and balls upon the houses of a people whom
they call German! Such brutality cannot
make a very favorable impression on
Strasbourg, and a vote in Alsace and Lor
raine would be dead against them,
Gen. Banks has received the nomi
nation for Congress of the Labor Re
formers of the Sixth Massachusetts Dis
trict.
Hietory of FIiMOUL Man-to-Men Fighte
in the South.
A description of a duel is always fas
cinating to most readers ; to those where
they prevail, because the duel is the sen
sational fact among their local customs;
to those where they do not prevail, be
cause of the wonder and dramatic char
acter of such a custom ; and to all, be
cause a duel supposes peculiar personal
courage, and is sensational in the high
est degree. It requires resolution and
animal pluck to stand up to be shot at;
but it by no means follows that a man
who fights a duol possesses any unusual
amount of courage, and after all, fight
ing a duel is not so risky as most people
think. Either those who fight are
wretched shots, or else their nerves are
by no means steady; for the firing is
notably uncertain, and few are fatally
hit. A shot in the leg is far more com
mon than a shot in the head.
• .
Among those who look upon the duel
as one of the reasonable possibilities of
their lives, practicing with the pistol is
a regular study, and is reduced to sys
tems. " Taking aim," in the usual
manner, by deliberate sighting of an
object, is not the mode accepted. The
whole thing is made a mechanical
method, looking to the habit of bring
ing the weapon to a certain line and
level by long practice, and pulling the
trigger with little regard to the
"sights." Some men fire after bring
ing the aim and pistol down to a level
with the antagonists; others by raising
the arm and pistol; and sortie by rest
ing the elbow on the hip, and firing
without sight, relying upon long prac
tice to hit an object. The author once
knew a gentleman who could cut a
twine line at ten paces, without sight
ing, and by "tiring from the hip." The
object of firing from a downward aim is
mainly to protect the body. Iu Henry
A. Wise's duel with Colton, he fired
front a raised weapon ; Colton's arm
was broken by the shot, but i t saved
his life.
"Regular duelists always use the
" hair trigged! It is just possible that
Broderick - lost his life in his duel with
Judge Terry, in California, from this
cause and carelessness. Ile had a glove
on his hand, and before he could raise
the weapon it exploded. This left
Terry an undisturbed shot, and his hor
rible accuracy and coolness were shown
by his remark when he fired, and Brod
erick dropped : " I struck him a little
too much to the left!" His shot, in his
opinion, though fatal, was not exactly
artistic.
Duelling in this country prevails as a
custom only in the Sent ern States, and
is manifestly, though slowly, dying out.
There were men, however, formerly
who were known as professed duelists
--that is, you were constantly in danger
of being challenged by them, for good
cause or for . none at all ; and to go out
with them was simply to arrange your
mortal affairs and speak to the sexton,
for they were " dead shot "—they could
put a dozen balls in the same hole suc
cessively. Such men were haughty
and insolent, of course; and, of course,
were treated with distinguished consid
eration. Of this class was one Gholson,
of Mississippi, and of one of whose duels
we now propose to speak.
It was somewhere about IS4U that an
"unpleasantness" of a political origin
occurred between Gholson and, a gen
tleman who had never fought a duel,
named Prentiss. Gholson had tilled
half a dozen graves with his victims.—
He was a Democrat and Prentiss was a
Whig. A very large and highly re
spectable audience attended the light,
and betting was lively—Gholson having
great odds in the "pools." Some bets
were made that both would fall, as
Prentiss had a high reputation for cool
ness and exhibited the utmost calmness
and self-possession, especially in "strip
ping" for the work in hand, whale Ghol
son seemed less cool and was airy. At
the first tire Prentiss fell, shot through
the hams, while Gholson leaped three
feet into the air and came down dead,
shot through the heart. Prentiss pos
sessed the great quality aimed at by all
duelists, that is, he fired quicker than
Gholson--say aLout the twenty-mil
lionth part of a half second ahead.
The recent death of Mrs. Anna Cora
Mowat Ritchie recalls the facts of a duel
which her husband almost fought, but
which finally added and which not only
created a great sensation in Virginia at I
the time, but became interwoven with
subsequent events, which terminated in
a bloody encounter and the death of one
of the principals in the affidr at the
hands of Ritchie's brother. 'Fhe facts
never got more than a casual notice in
the papers, and are here detailed for the
first time. To understand the whole
case, it is necessary to say that Thomas
Ritchie—or Father Ritchie, as he was
generally called—was the editor of the
Richmond Ewprir( r and wielded about
the whole power of the Democratic
party of Virginia. John Hampden
Pheasants was the editor of the Rich
mond Whig and the representative edi
tor and writer of his party in that State.
He was the sort of Gov. Pheasants, and
a bold, chivalrous, and generous-hearted
man, who held " to the code of honor."
Ritchie was not a fighting man.
For years a hot antagonism progressed
between these two editors ; engendering
an intense bitterness at last, as might
have been expected. About the year
1541, something unusually heated arose
in these papers; and in an editorial
Pheasants said, submissively, the follow
ing: "We have been engaged iu con
troversy with the editor of the Eriquirtr
for twenty years, and it shames our
manhood to know that we have never
used any weapon sharper than a pen."
According to "the code," this sarcasm
was a deadly insult, which nothing but
pistols, ten paces, and blood, could wipe
out.
Ritchie had two sons—William F.,
the elder, who married Mrs. Ifowatt,
and Thomas, jun., the younger—who
killed Pleasants in a tight about four
years ago afterward. The mortal offence
was taken up by William, and a chal-
lenge sent to Pleasants. Being prompt
ly accepted, and the terms settled, every
thing was lovely between the two gen
tlemen. Perhaps it would be as well
here to speculate on what the result of
the duel Nvould have been, provided it
had been fought, so us to decide how
we would have been on the issue, if we
had a bet on it all. The terms were—
shot guns, loaded with twelve buck
shots; laid uncocked at the combatants'
feet, 'nuzzles outward; the parties to
stand back to back, and at the word,
wheel, to seize their weapons and lire—
distance, twelve paces. This was sure
death to somebody. Who would it have
been We put the interesting problem
and solution, thus Ritchie was tall,
near-sighted, wore spectacles, and was
wholly unused to the weapon selected.
Pleasants was short of stature, one of
the very best shots in Virginia, and per
fectly familiar with the weapon to be
used; so much so that with a double
barreled gun he was sure of a front and
rear partridge on a fair "rising." Hence
it would have taken Ritchie longer to
stoop, longer to get his gun into posi
tion; and he would be slower to tire,
and uncertain in aim. Ergo, Pleasants
would have killed Ritchie stone dead
before Ritchie could have fired at all ;
and on this we are ready to bet, two to
one. But, happily—or unhappily, per
haps—luckily for Anna Cora Mowatt,
at all events—the duel never was fought.
The sore between Pleasants and the
Ritchies was far from being healed by
the settlement of the affair with Wil
liam. On the contrary, a.duel once ad
mitted, and the sons thus coining into
the area of controversy, blood was sure
to flow, sooner or later. An afliti r be
tween Hugh Pleasants and John Tyler,
Jr., son of President Tyler, and which
had its origin in the Enquirer, only fed
the flame. About four or five yearsafter
the difficulty with William, John H.
Pleasants became involved in a quarrel
with Thomas ;Ritchie, Jr., which cul
minated in a bloody and fatal fight. In
an intemperate article, Pleasants was
grossly insulted by the younger Ritchie,
who called him an abolitionist and a
coward, with a sneer at his course in the
affair with:his brother William. Such an
outrage could have but one result—blood.
For several days an encounter in the'
street was imminent, for Pleasants
would not admit the duel to wipe out
such an insult. A street fight was his
settled purpose; but friends came for
ward, and a fight in form was agreed
upon. The encounter took place in
Manchester, across the James river from
Richmond. At six o'clock, on a calm,
soft, sweet and sunny moraing, the
combatants, seconds, surgeons and a
few friends of each, were assembled
in a secluded spot, for one or two to be
murdered. Pleasants was placed sixty
paces distant from Ritchie, armed with
a sword cane, two dueling pistols, a re
volver in his pocket, and a bowie knife.
Ritchie was armed with seven dueling
pistols in a belt and a short, strong,
sharp, Roman sword.—He also held a
lighteane; using it as a "rest" fur his
pistol when firing. Pleasants made no
' use of his bowie nor of his revolver in
the fight. He bad also drawn the hall
from one of his dueling pistols, the
night before as he declared afterwards.
The combatants wers placed In position
—the terms being that Pleasants should
advance upon Ritchie, and make
the assault—and some negotiations
were in progress; but Washington
Greenow was there, as Ritchie's
"friend," and no peaceable settle
ment could of course be made.
The signal was given—Pleasants ad
vanced—Ritchie commenced and con
tinued firing until his seven pistols
were emptied. Pleasants fired but once
while advancing, was wheeled nearly
around by one shot which struck him—
pushed ou under the murderous tire un
til he came face to face with Ritchie—
firing his still loaded duelling pistol di
rectly at Ritchie—made a lunge with
his cane sword, which was parried—and
then fell to the ground with five pistol
wounds, one fatal in the groin. He died
within three days. Young Ritchie took
to violent drinking and died in about
two years, leaving his property of sonic
S:13,000 to Pleasants' daughters, who re
fused to accept it. A pistol ball killed
one; but remorse and whiskey were no
less fatal to the other. Both were esti
mable, amiable, and generous men, and
had been cordial friends.
General Dromgoole, once speaker of
the House of Congress, was a North
Carolina militia general, and one Bug
ger, an esteemed and wealthy merchant
of Petersburg, was Dromgoole's dearest
friend. Bugger was a Whig and the
general a Democrat. Of course they
failed to harmonize politically ;and both
being essentially " tight" (the papers
said they had taken too much wine, but
it was whiskey) on one occasion, and
getting into a noisy political wrangle,
Bugger gave Dromgoole a blow. The
next morning, being cooled off and so
bered, a mutual friendly explanation
and apology occurred. Both knew the
whole thing arose from their being tipsy,
and there was no oifense intended, felt
nor harbored; but the militia officers of
his North Carolina command got wind
of the airlift ; their honor (?) required
that the blow should be requitted by
cold lead. Dromgoole yielded, went
out with his friend Bugger in the most
honorable manner, and shot him mor
tally, and in a style highly creditable to
his skill. Dugger was buried within
the week, and Dromgoole became a
total abstinence man, but remorse ale
out his peace and life in about two years
—according to my present impression.
James Bowie, the inventor or discov
erer of the terrible weapon which has
immortalized his name, was as utterly a
fearless man as ever was born. He was
full of enthusiasm over the fatal superi
ority of his knife, and discussed the
matter with all the zeal of an inventor,
and the erudition of an expert. A huge
Spaniard once argued the case with
Bowie, claiming that a good old "Span
ish knife" was not only the equal of the
new weapon, but its superior. Finally,
as wordy and windy argument only
hardened the opinions and confidence
of each, it was proposed to settle the
doubt in a practical way, by a knife
fight. There was no enmity between
these two worthies ; they differed,
and they wanted each to prove him
self right in a fair and 'unanswerable
way. The left arms of these philoso
phers were tied together from the wrists
to the elbows—there was a moment's
pause, each nerving himself for the hor
rid work ; the word was given—au in
stant and sudden "jerk" by Bowie gave
him the chance to drive his knife into
the body of the Spaniard, sinking it to
the very hilt. The Spaniard dropped,
Bowie catching the body on his knee.
Then, to make sure work, he gave his
knife a scientific turn in the Spaniard's
I oody, drew it out, followed by the spout
ing blood, eat the cord that hound their
arms, and allowed the dead Spaniard to
fall to - flre earth as indifferenty as though
it had only been the carcass of a hog.
Thus was the supremacy of Jim's knife
fairly, fearfully, and triumphantly vin
dicated—and it remains unchalletiged
by rival until this very day.
Queer Marriages
The "most married" woman of
which there is any record was undoubt
edly the Harlem woman spoken of by
Evelyn in his diary, whose propensity
for remarrying had finally to be check
ed by law. " r3he married to her twenty
lifth husband, and being now a widow,
was prohibited to Inctriw in future,
Many years ago a man in Hartsville,
N. Y., became attached to a young and
beautiful damsel, who died before their
intended marriage could be consum
mated. Ile then married the mother of
the deceased, who was some twenty
years her senior, but with whom he lived
quite happily until she was eighty and
he sixty years of age. As the wife had
by this time become quite decrepit they
adopted a maid of some thirty summers,
who had lived with them a year and a
half when the old lady died. Before the
time appointed for the funeral the man
himself was taken sick, on which ac
count the funeral services were post
poned four weeks. But in less than two
weeks he sent for a justice of the peace
and was married to the maid he had
adopted. The next day the couple ap
plied to the town for support, and
week later the man himself died, his
funeral being attended before that of
his first wife, and the women he had so
recently married being the only mourn
er. Human folly is "vast and illimita
ble."
When Socrates was asked whether it
were better for a man to get married or
live single, tie replied; "Let him do
either and he will repent it."
With due respect to Socrates' we must
object to the above. We once knew a
fortune-hunting young man who mar
ried a maiden lady on the wintry side of
fifty. She was worth about one hundred
thousand dollars, and died in less than
a month after the celebration of the
nuptial ceremonies. He inherited her
property, and he never repented his
marriage.
Among the ancient ( iermans it was
death for any woman to marry before
she was twenty years old. By the laws
of Lycurgus the most special attention
was paid to the physical education, and
no delicate or sickly women were allow
ed to marry.
In the Royal library of Paris is a writ-
ten contract, drawn up in 1297, between
two persons of noble birth in Armagnie.
The document bound the husband and
wife to faithful wedlock for seven years.
It stipulated that the parties should
have the right to renew the tie at the
end of that time If they mutually agreed ;
but if not, the children were to be equal
ly divided; if the number should chance
not to be even, they were to draw lots
for the odd one.
In Borneo, marriages, which gener
ally succeeds a lengthened routine of
enigmatical courtship peculiar to those
people, is celebrated with great pomp
and considerable originality. The bride
and bridegroom are conducted from op
posite the ends of the village to the spot
where the ceremony is performed. They
are seated on two bars of irons symboli
cal of the vigorous and lasting blessings
in store for them. A cigar and a betel
leaf, carefully prepared with areca nut,
are put into the hands of each, One of
the officiating priests advances, waves
two fowls over the heads of the be
trothed, and in a long address to the
Supreme being and a short one to the
couple, calls down eternal blessings
on them, implores that peace and hap
piness may attend the union, and gives
some temporal advice, sometimes of a
character more medical than saintly.
The spiritual part being thus concluded
the material succeeds. The heads of
the affirmed are knocked together three
or four times;
then the bridegroom
puts his betel leaf and cigar into the
mouth of the bride; and thus they arc
acknowledged a wedded couple,with the
sanction of their religion. At a later
period on the nuptial evening, fowls
are killed, the blood caught in two cups,
and from its color the priest foretells the
happiness or misery of the newly mar
ried. The ceremony is closed by a feast
much dancing and noisy music.
The following romantic story is told
of Lord March (grandson of Charles
II.,) who afterward became the second
Duke of Richmond, and who, while yet
quite young, was engaged, without be
ingconsulted as to the choice, to a lady
still younger. The bride was Lady, the
daughter of the Earl of Cadogan, Marl
borough's favorite general. Their union
(according to Napier's account) was a
bargain to cancel a gaming debt between
the parents and the young Lord March
was brqught from college, the lady
from the nursery, for the ceremony.
The bride was amazed and silent,
but the bridegroom exclaimed, " Sure
ly you are not going to marry me to
that dowdy"' Married he was, how
ever, and his tutor instantly carried him
off to the continent. A few years after
this event Lord March returned home
from his travels a most accomplished
gentleman, but having such a very dis
agreeable recollection of his wife that
lie avoided home, and repaired, on the
first night of his arrival, to the theatre.
There he saw a lady of so tine an ap
pearance that he asked who she was,
and on being answered that she was
" the reigning toasts, the beautiful Lady
March," he hastened to claim her, and
they lived together so affectionately t hat
one year only after his decease, in 1750,
she died of grief.
On Shaking Hands
The London Saturday Reel, u , has a
very entertaining article upon the cus
tom of shaking hands, from which we
make the following extracts:
The hot summer of 1870 must have
set many people thinking whether it is
not possible to invent sonic mode of sal
utation more convenient than that of
shaking hands. When the thermome
ter is at 90 in the shade, and when the
only hope of escaping a sunstroke seems
to he to drink so much tea and to wear
so little clothes as shall best promote
perspiration, then the tyranny of the
social law which compels us to grasp
the hand of a casual and very hot ac
quaintance, and to give it the establish
ed vibration, is fully felt, and becomes
almost insupportable. But the incon
venience of the practice of shaking
hands is not confined to the season of
hot weather only. There is probably
no mode of salutation commonly prac
tised by any civilized nation which is
so encompassed with difficulties and
embarrassments. The difficulty of mak
ing a correct bow is no doubt consider
able. There is the difficulty of know-
ing how to bow ; how to draw the artis
tic hue between the unceremonious nod
and the obeisance ; and—for people who
aim at doing things in good form—the
difficulty of apportioning their due an
gle of reverence to the different sexes ;
and to the different social positions,
ages and degrees of intimacy of persons
in each sex. And there is also the dif
ficulty of knowing when",t.o bow, so well
described by Steele in the Si,celator.—
But all the difficulties that cluster round
the bow are as nothing compared to
those that encompass the shaking of
hands. The difficulties of knowing how
to bow are, after all, only the difficulties
which beset the attempt to do anything
well ; and difficulties of the same kind,
not inferior to degree, will be found to
beset the practice of shaking hands. As
for the difficulties of knowing when to
bow, it is obvious that they must be at
least doubled in the case of band-shak
ing, for this simple reason, that that
mode of salutation requires the consent
and co-operation of two persons to exe
cute it. Hand-shaking ❑s a mode of
salutation has the fundamental and fa-
tal vice that it necessitates personal con
tact. Hence it is subject to objections
the same in kind, though certainly not
the same in degree, as the nose rubbing
of the Polynesians, and similar modes
of greeting employed by savages.
If any person should be inclined to
doubt whether hand-shaking is a diffi
cult operation, lot him consider the dif
ferent modes in which the custom is
observed among his various friends and
and acquaintances. There are negative
modes and there are positive modes of
shaking hands. There are, first of all,
the people who seem to fear that if they
once give you their hands they may
never get them back again, and who
manteuvre so that you may not possess
yourself of more than the tips of their
lingers. 'Phis mode of hand-shaking
may be called tipping, and those who
use it, tippers. Closely allied to them is
another sort of half-handed shakers—
those, namely, who do not clasp your
hand, but finger it with two digits.
This mode of shaking hands is some-
times adopted by men political and
literary notoriety. But it is very apt to
give otlence ; and the most serious con
sequences have been known to ensue
front its having been practised by a
young author upon a critic whom he
he had Mistaken fur a rival writer.—
These persons, who, failing to give the
whole hand, nevertheless do not touch
your hand with the tips of the fingers
only, but finger It with the whole of
one or more fingers, may be called lin
gerers. Then there are those who give
the whole hand, but give it in a limp,
flabby mariner, as a New Foundlatut
dog gives its paw. Those people seem
to think they have discharged the
duty of hand-shaking when they have
put their neighbors in possession of
their hand. Were it the oustom to make
our ;Meaux to a dear departed by shalt
hadds with his corpse, the sensation
would no doubt be very like what we
experienced when we salute these nab
by shakers; who, as they use their
hands much in the same way the mock
turtle used his flaps, may be called Hap-
pers. These negative modes for shak
ing hands are disagreeable enough. Iki t
the positive modes are still more un
pleasant. Among these the least
distressing is probably the thrust
ing mode. There are seine people who,
when you oiler them your hand, take
it; but take it only to put it from them,
as if it were something coalmen and
unclean. They seize it with quick de.
cision, as brave children seize a snap
dragon or an earwig. Then, by a rapid
thrust forward in tierce, they return it
to your side; and having got it there,
they drop or shoot it into space. These
thrusters are a numerous class, and, od
dly enough, their mode does not seem
to give so much offense as that of the
tippers and lingerers. More physically
painful, though ethically less injurious,
is the mode of those who squeeze. This
mode is chiefly practiced by Methodists,
by fervid preachers of evangelical per
suasions, and by other persons of power
and piety. Torments arc sometimes
suffered by small boned or rheumatic
men, and by fragile women, who have
fallen into the hands of one of these
fervid giants, and who happen to have
rings on their fingers when the cruel
clutch is effected. But worse even than
this class of squeezers is that of the
;lingers; the people who having once
got hold of your hand, refuse to let it go,
but use it as they would a button hole,
or as the ancient mariner used his glit
tering eye, to compel you to hear al
they have to say . ; giving it at interval
little pressures,. motions or vibrations
as a running accompaniment to their
twaddle. Of all the kinds of shakers
above described, these clingers are un
doubtedly the most pestilential ; and
when, as is occasionally the case, they
combine squeezing and clinging, they
are simply unendurable, and ought to
be treated as creatures that outrage
ciety.
There are very few people who do not
partake, in a greater or less degree, of
one or more of these faults in hand
shaking. If any reader has hitherto
been accustomed to think that hand-
shaking is a less difficult form of saints
tion to execute well than a bow, let hin
consider carefully, in oneof his moments
of deepest consciousness, his own mode
of shaking hands; arid when he has
done this, let hint consult a candid friend
on the subject. It is just possible that
the result of such consolation and
and self-examination may be favorable.
He may still be able to believe that he
has mastered the accomplishment of
shaking hands, and that his shake is
free from all the defects above named—
that he neither tips fingers, flaps,
thrusts, squeezes nor clings when salut
ing his acquaintance. But at any rate
he will not continue to underrate
the difficulty of the accomplishment,
and will probably be prepared to ad
mit that he who can shake hands
well should be able to bow better.—
In truth, the conclusion that hand-shak
ing is a more difficulty mode of saluta
tion than bowing is established by two
distinct, but equally convincing, lines
of argument—by the argument from the
reason of the thing, because, as we have
said, it necessitates personal contact,
and requires the co-operation of two per
sons to execute it ; and by the argument
from facts, because it is found that fewer
people do it successfully. Even, how
ever, if we suppose that the difficulties
of bowing or of shaking hands are about
equal, there remains one more eonclus
, ive argument against the shaking of
hands. It is this. Granted that, if
bowing took the place now occupied by
shaking, the number of bad bows would
be about equal to the existing number of
bad shakes, yet the amount of social dis
comfort would be materially reduced.
For there is this important difference
between the bad bow and the bad shake,
that the man who bows badly embar
rasses himself only; whereas the man
who shakes hands badly—the thruster
or clinger, for example—causes annoy
ance to others. Common politeness,
therefore, ought to make us prefer the
NUMBER 40
bad bow to the bad shake ; and this one
consideration alone ought to be stint
cient to persuade society to discard hand
shakiug, as au ordinary mode . pf saluta
tion, in favor of bowing, or souse form
which is similarly free from the evils of
personal contact.
Reference has been already made to
Steele's paper on tho difficulties of
knowing when to bow, and his descrip
tion of the troublesome circumstances
in which the indiscreet bower finds
himself. No man who mixes in society
can hope entirely to escape embarrass
ing situations. But it may be safely de
clared that bowing Call never involve so
much embarrassment as hand-shaking.
Who has not at some time or other
been staving with a large party in a
country-house, and felt the necessity
of shaking hands all round with an as
sembly of or twelve persons every
morning before breakfast, and every
evening before bed, to weigh upon his
mind like a nightmare? On such oc
casions there is often one of the party
who, from what is supposed to be lazi
ness, never makes his appearance at
breakfast, but keeps his room till the
company isdispersed to the business and
am usements of the day. It would be curi
ous to know how much of this supposed
laziness is really nervous horror of the
hand shaking ordeal. In like manner
some old fashioned people, who think it
necessary, whets they are at a large gar-
den party, to shake hands with every
one they now, will sometimes endure '
any amount of wailing and weariness
rather than be the fuel to leave, and run
the gauntlet of the salutations of the
whole company. Or again, who has not
often found himself in some such si tuts-
- -
lion as the following : llis carrying a
book in MlO hand and a walking stick
in the other, when he suddenly nieebi a
lady of his acquaintance. By a rapid
effort ho transfers the stick into the left
ME=EME2=IB
hand takes off his hat. Whereupon she
offers him her hand for a shake. What
is lie to do? To choose the moment
when a lady is offering him her hand to
put ou his hat has :most uugraeism.+air.
To transfer the hat to the left hand is a
physicahimpossibility. To drop the hat
on the ground would seem theatrical.
The situation is simply insoluble, and
enough of itself to damn hand shaking
as a polite mode of salutation. But it
would be endless work to describe all
the horrid situations which;th is custom
occasions. The man who does not bit
terly feel the nuisance of it, both in the
bosom of his family and when he takes
Ncalks abroad, must be either inorti
r less than human.
Not lung ago the newspapers contain
ed a description of .:Nlarshal MaeMalion
embracing one of colonels before or
dering him to a last :mil hopeless charge
at Reichshotlitn. Au English
under such circumstances would have
offered his hand. But who would nut
feel that a clasping of hands, however
fervent, would be quite an inadequate
symbol of the emotion which would oc
cupy the hearts of men in such ei remit
stances as those? And su it is with :all
of us, on all occasions of deep and special
emotion.
The Robbery of the Northrtroberlonal
The Williamsport Bullet in .says:—We
aro informed by a gentleman who was stop
ping in Northumberland, .in Thursday
night last, that the First National Bank of
that place was entered by burglars, and
from twelve to fifteen thousand dollars in
coupon bonds carried otr. It spurred in
this wise: About hathp,st eight o'clock in
the evening„ as the watchman, a one-armed
man, entered the building, he was roughly
seized by four men, who were concealed
inside, gagged, his hands tied and fastened
to a chair, when, after all was joint, they
went to work. They were armed with a
sledge and commenced operations on the
brick vault surrounding tho safe. Af
ter working linhistriously for sonic time,
the :troll of the vault suddenly gave
way, precipitating a great mass of bricks
nil mortar on the safe, completely bury.
ng it liencitth the ruins. the
abor to remove this in:L.:S.I . I, W(11.111.1
•
Intsulnc were t . itne than they nut La spare,
.her ahandened the idea of getting into the
ale, and eeturnenceil tither
ilames tor money and valuables. 'rhey i•ille
'eedVd ill
a private parties, as near as
•ould be ascertained, to between twelve
nd fifteen thousand dollars, which they
•arrieil
Our informant, who visited the banking
house on Friday morning, says that the
room presented a complete if ruins.
The, watchman wai-i found sitting in the
chair tied, where the burglars placed him,
gagged and unable to move. lie says that
there were four of them, and that they
threatened him with his life if he attempt
ed to make any noise.
It is supposed that they gained :wens: to
Lhe building early in the OVellill{4, through
a hack window, :mil laid in wait for the
vatehrnan, When, on his appearance, he
Va... 1 seized, as described aL,ove, and after
all was quiet went to work. It is supposed
that they left on thedown train which pass
es the place about two o'clock in the 111,111-
l'here is great excitement in Northtun
erlaml neer the robbery.
Illaelt Rats vs. White fints--A Skirmish
In Street.
Wall street, New York, that famous
financial pandemonium, has long been
known for its singular outbursts and tierce
wars which fictions, tinder the names of
" bulls - and " bears," have waged upon
each other for plunder. Latterly, however
there has been a sort of social classification
among the stock brokers, the distinctive
badges being the white :01,1 black hat,'
( stove-pipe I now worn. 'rh) black hats
have posted and threatened the Whitt, hats,
and jibed each other until .Nlontlay last,
when matters reached a crisis. A Now
York paper says:
"When the last formal session of the
board was over the demonstration against
the White Ilats, which had been a rather
desultory skirmish all day, took the form
of all organized movement. At a signal the
White Hats were suddenly dashed from
the wearers' heads and kicked and knock
ed in every direction until tho stir wILs
filled with flying fragments of white felt
and beaver. TIM struggle certainly brought
out the best points of the brokers charac
ters, for the destruction sects attended With
the utmost good feeling, and the victims
took their discomfiture It.s a matter or
course. 'l'he \Vhite flats made a vigorous
defense, and even sought to carry the war
into Africa by daring sallies on the Illack
but numbers and critic fr.:hi-SDI wore
against them, and the whin) colors trailed
in the dust. lint the warfare extended be
yond the Stock Exchange. The Black
Ifats, flushed with victory, poured up the
stairs of the government board, and sally
ing ir. among the
brokers there repeated
the destruction of the offensive from
this apartment they next repaired to the
tiold ltoom, amt taking the place icy ',Lorin
finished the aehievements or the day by de
molishing every white hat within reach, or
forcing the owner to beat a precipitate re
treat. of course the leisure which permit
tell so prolonged and boisterous a frolic is
a striking commentary 011 the business ac
tivity of IVaIl street just now."
Emigrants are flooring into the State by
thousands, and lands are being rapidly
taken up at from three U, lifteen dollars an
acre. The various projected lines ~f rail
road are already under was. The line
from Brenham to Austin has now 00
Chinamen and ifeutioliVicts at work upon it.
The Suite receives pay for the labor of the
conviets. There will be fi,ouu Chinamen at
work on the railroads in various parts of
the State by next Spring. f , Land in Texas
that vest $3 an acre produces on an average
a bale of cotton to an acre. This cotton Is
sold at 43) a bate on the place. It can be
hauled hut) miles in ox-tunas, at two cents
a pound. This cheap rate is owing to the
cattle feeding en the grass on the way,
thereby saving the expense of feed. When
the railroads are completed, Texas will be
a great country in itself. They now raise
enough cattle to feed this entire country.—
The difficulty is in bringing them to market.
Fine steers :ire sold at ten cents a pound,
and now many persons kill the steers fur
the hide and tallow, throwing away the
meat. Large droves are now en route to
Kansas and Illinois, where it is proposed
to Winter them, and let them refattem and
thus introduce a good stock of steers into
those Status. When the railroads are fin
ished, Texas will send hundreds of thous
ands of steers to the Northern markets.
A Mad Casualty
On Monday morning last the keeper of
the elks in Judge Packer's deer park, at
Packerton, was found in the park dead and
his body literally torn to pieces. The dis
covery was made by Mr. Lafayette Lentz,
who was driving past. The appearance of
the body of the unfortunate mini and of the
surroundings indicated that he died a most
horrible death, having been gored and
trodden to a bruised mass by one of the
elks. The murderous beast was shortly
afterwards found with his horns bloody
and portions of the dead man's clothing
clinging to them. The keeper was a one
armed man, named Adam fleinblinger, a
German. Ho was unmarried and had no
relatives in this county. There were three
of these monsters in the park, besides sev
eral deer and antelopes, at the time the ac
cident occured. A coroner's inquest was
held by Thomas Kemerer, Esq., and the
body decently interred. The affair throw a
gloom of horror over the whole communi
ty, as he was a genial follow, and much
thought of for his good nature and pleasant
manners. He had none hero to mourn for
BATE OF ADVERTISING
BUSINESS ADVERTISEMENTS, $l2 ft year p r
sonre of ten lines; &Spar year for each addi
tional squaie,
•
REAL '^•ATE A nvstritSlN(L 10 cents aline tar
the (fret, and 5 cents fer.enoll inthetlinent
lasell.lon.
UANF.ILAL ADVKIZTISING, i cunts n lino for I I 0
first, and -1 cents for each suhgentiont
tlon.
Spl:clsl. Norwas Inserted In Local Coluinua
Is cents per Line.
SPECIAL NOTICEB proceiling marriages and
deaths, 10 cents per line for first insertlotil
and 6 cents for every subsequent Insertion.
LEGAL AND OTIIEIt NOTICEs—
Executors' ..... . ......
Administrators' notice
Assignees' notices
Auditors' notices
Other" Notlees," ten lines, or less,
hint, but the whole town was saddened
his terrible thte.-31 - attel Omni, Denl,4,
The Loss of the Captain
rts:noutlt Currespondcnrk• uC cite
Standard.
Front the statements of the few who have
been saved, sonic of which are sohjoilie.l,
it appears that about midnight, on the
inst., the ship was in company with th..
Channel fleet, about forty miles o
Cape Finisterre, cruising under doubic
reefed fore and maintopsails, and forctcp•
mast staysail and mainsail, and the ti re viii
hauled up, there being at the time a very
stronc ' breeze and a heavy sea. The star
board watch had been called at l o'clock,
and were being mustered, when a squall
struck the ship on the port side, causing
her to give a heavy lurch to starboard. As
she did not right herself, Capt. Burgoyne
.vho was on the bridge, gave the order to
lower the forotopsail, but in consequence
of the yards being braced sharp up, the
ship at the time being un the port tack, it
did not come down. Orders were prompt-
Iv given to let go the lea braces and man
the topsail dowilaul, but by this time the
ship had been again struck by a heavy sou,
and she was nom plotety hove on to her beam •
ends, with the water pouring down the fun
nel,and she then turned bottom u pwari I,an. I
gradually sank stern tirst. Front the limo
the ship was struck to her going dow n univ
Iron, live to ten minutes elapsed. 'rho
number on board at the time WM 520.--•
When the Captain tats first lost sight of it
was thought that she had missed the fleet,
which Is not an unoommon oreurrenee on
a dark night, and when it is blowing hard,
and no ono imagined she had gone duty le.
But, alas, the sad fact soon bec:uuo mum
rent, whon first was plokoil up a boat, [him
a spar, and subsequently ono of the men,
who had lashed 'Unison' to a grating, but
did not suoceed in salving his licit. t m the
morning of Thursday last the Monarch,
sown-turret (coven-nun, dial hie-turreted,
ship, ('apt. John E Cominerell, V. C., C.
which had been searching round the c0..51,
brought intelligence to the flag-ship lit
one warrant °Meer and I? men had Lindell
from the Captain. Thu Monarch went back
anti picked them up oil' Cape Enlister, at
noon on that day, and they were traiti4cr
red to the Volage.
Mr. James May, gunner, second el,,s,
states that he was invoke about 12 o'clock
on the night of the 11th by 501110 illarilleS
making a noise out his cabin, and tinkl
ing the ship more than usually unsteady,
he tressed himself to go on deck
OW guns wore all right in the turrets.
passing the engineer's bath-room he 0x
chan,,,,,1 a remark with the engineer odic,
who had Mille ~Ii the first ,wateh, and dots
ha is certain as to its being just past Ii
o'clock. When he got Up illt“ t h e ;utter tur-
ret, the ship gave a heavy nill t, starboard,
tint! continued In that position, gradually
heeling over More and Inure, Until ho Gnutd
the voter curving into the port-hole in the
top or the turret, through which he 'raw led,
and then found himsull• overboard. I lc,
however, succeeded, with live others, in
elution; t'aptain Burgoyne, ill reaching
ho steam pimmee, which was lloating
mttom upp‘rtm,st, 11.1111 51 rcin Hir
atunch pa.vsing within a low yards of
(3111. lie cried out, " Now
en ; this Is your cutly chance."
,
lave others di.l SO, ;Uhl succeeded in Rul
ing into the boat. They in vain cieleaN
to regain Cho pinnace, to 5150 lbcir
.aptain, but the sea running so very high
,revonted them from fulfilling their laid:,
and in the attempt they were struck by a
heavy sea, nearly swampinit ' the boat,
washing the roan (I icorge Meyers 1 over
hoard. It was then tiotermilll'd to let. the
boat run before the sea, as the land Was
known to be leeward of them. About
o'clock they sighted the light on Cape Fin
isterro, anti afterward oliservoil
They made for it, and succeeded in hurtl
ing, about noun of the 7th, at Finisterre,
and at I o'clock, after making all 111,1,-
sary inquiries anti drying their clothes.
proceeded to Ilercultion, Whore they found
they found the Vice-Consul, who telegraph
ed and sent the news of the eat disaster
through Corunna to England. The mm,-
arch's boats picked them up.
I was awoke just before 12 o'cloek by the
ship making a heavy lurch to starbeard,
but she presently righted again; the middle
watch, to which I belonged, was then call
ed, and I Wollt 011 deck. While the watch
was being mustered, I Burgoyne called
me on the bridge and desired we Ltl tal:El
steady and trustworthy man with me, int I
put the iron covers on the turrets, and I'o
- to him when it was done. I then heard
loin ask how much the ship was "heeling.'.
did not hear the reply, hot afterward
card that it was l.ti fit ww-i generally lolly
.
St. CB h
apt.
urgoyne then gave the enter .
lower the foretef.sail, and chip plenty of
hands on the "down-haul." Directly afti r
ho gave the order to lower the nutintopsail,
but the yard being braced sharp up the
yard did net is,ino down, whereupon t'apt.
Burgoyne ordered the Ice top-sail sheets to
ho let go. These orders were all rapidly
given, while I was preparing to is.iver the
fore turret. I called Jam. Frost, A. 11.,t0
00010 with mo, hut I never saw him after
ward. I Nvalkod - forward in the weather
gangway, and, finding a lower sail on the
turretgrating to windward, weld round to
leeward of the three foremost boom boats,
stowed inside of each other, and endeavor
ed to lift ulf the grating. While doing so
the ship gave a tremendously heavy lurch, ,
throwing tier quite on her heamends, the
water coining over the seanettings, and up
through the iron grating which I was (.11-
eavoring to lift. I thought then that the
hip must he sinking, and, holding nn to
ho gratings, felt the boom boats graze my
MME=
ship.
'1 ho Portsmouth correspondent of T
'ForteN gives some additional particulm,:
" Robert Hirst, an able seaman, was sta
tioned ion the forecastle, and mustered with
the starboard watch. There was a strong
wind, and the ship W 11.4 under her three
topsails, double roofs in ouch, and the fore
topmast staysail. The yards were liracod
sharp up, :mil the shlp did not seem to hav
inuen way upon her. As the watch teem
mustered, heard ('apt. Burgoyne give Ow
order, ' Let go the forotopsail halliards;'
followed by, ' Let go fore and main top,ad
sheets.' By the time the men got to the
topsail sheets the ship was heeling over to
starboard so much that the limn were wash
ed away off the deck, the ship lying down
on her side as She was gradually turning
over, and trembling with every blow wider;
the short jumping seas (the sea now was
white all round with the squall) struck. her,
:Ind the roar of the steam from the funnel
roaring horribly above everything, nml
continuing to do on, Oren When under Wat
er. Hirst, with twin other MIMI, 111,1110 d t,O
the weather forecastle netting, anti jumped
overboard, and immediately:Mont . :it'd they
found themselves washed un to the bilge
of the ship's bottom, but had no sooner got
there than the ship went down. Hirst awl
his vompanions went down With the Ship,
but the need feeling or conwioosoo , ,
by the former was coming in eelltaet With
a thaltillg Spar, to which he tied himself
with his black silk neckerchief. lie NVII,
soon afterward, however, washed away
from the spar, hut got hold of the stern of
the second launch, which was floating as it
- .
WILY stowed on board the ship—the second
being stowed inside the first launch, the
galley inside the second launch, and a rim
vias Cover laced over and lashed round all.
(niter men were there on the top of Lliit
CallVaS covering. Then fell in with the
iiteain lifeboat pinnanee (built by J. S.
White, East Cowan, Isle of Wight), liottoni
up, with Captain Burgoyne and a number
of men on her bottom, but could not distin
guish how many. Four men, of whom Mr.
May, the gunner, proved to let one, Jumped
from off the bottom of the steam pinnancii
to the canvas covering of the galley and
tau riches. The canvas wars immediately
cut away, the galley thrown out, the firqt
launch floating away from underneath the
second, and the oars got out in the second
launch to pull up to the steam pitman," to
take elf ('apt. Burgoyne anti the TIICTI re
maining there. Hirst says it was soon Mimi
impossible to do this. As scull as they ell
deavored to get the boat's head up to the
sea to row her up to windward to whore
the capsized boat, with their captain a ill W
shipmates with him, was lloating, the beat
Was swamped level to her thwarts, and
two of the men were washed out of her.
The pump was set going, and caps used
for bailing the water out, and a second at
tempt wali Made to row the boat up against
the sea. This proved as unsuccessful
as the first. There were only nine
oars in the boat, the remainder
having been washed away, and ono being
iu use for steering, only eight remained for
pulling the boat. It would be useless to
prolong the tale. Nothing could be done
under such conditions, with a heavy boat
such as the second pinnace, and her head
was out for the shore before the wind and
sea, but Captain Burgoyne was away to
windward, clinging to the bottom of the
boat, in all thatstorm of broken waters.
" It is important to notice that the gen
eral opinion of the men appeared to be that,
with the ship having a slight heel over, the
pressure of a strong Wind upon the IlltdCr
part of the hurricane-deck had a greater I/-
feet, or leverage, to put the Math, 1110 PC
plainly, upon the hull of the slap, than the
pressure of the wind in her three lop -sat is
had. They also appeared to be nearly
unanimous in their opinions that when the
Captain got her starboard side well down
ill the water, with the consequent weight
of water on the starboard side of the turret
deck, and the pressure of the wind blow
ing from the port hand on the under sur
face of the hurricane-deck, and thus 'push
ing' the ship right over, she had no chance
of righting herself again. Ono man says
that, in answer to Capt. Burgoyne's inquiry
as to how much the ship WILY heeling over,
ho hoard the answers given ' 18,"23,' and
'2s' degrees. This movement was never
chocked for a moment, for immediately
the heel of the ship had been given as 25
degrees she was keel uppermost, and about
to make that tremendous downward
plunge, with the roar of the steam from her
boilers still forcing upward, and outscroam
ing the noise of the storm.'
BEIM