USE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA : Thursday Morning, July 11, 1861. js.'lttftb |!ottrj;. UNION HYMN. ■ J...,,. hv MM LIFVIK I>. HOWARD,* native of Bal timore. now an OB*riitivo ia th* Indian Orchard ililU, Spriugtield.] Father, we bend to Thee t For peace and liberty We humbly pray. Oh, shield our lovely land. Stay anarchy's dread hand, Let Freedom firmly stand 'i hriugli trial's day. Thou wast our father s guide, When they in loyal pride For Freedom tought. Father, this country save. Land of the free auu brave ; By many a patriot's grave Our houie was bought. Our hope is all in Thc-a ; Father of Liberty, bull keep us one. Bring not ourjeause to shame, Guard well our country's fame, Let power be in the came Of Washington. Father, td Thee we bend. Prayers to Thy throne we send, Iu this dark hour. Fraycrs for our native land, Prayers for the valliant hand, Who by her tiimly stand 'Gaint wrung and power For Goo and Liberty, Our watchword ever be.— Freedom and right. O'u. hear us as wc plead ; (Father, Thy aid we need. Soon let our land be Iree'd From peril's night. 1 ill is c 111 a itc o us. ,U AND'SLIDE IN SWITZERLAND. In the year 180G there was a frightful land jliile iu 11-xsriurg .Mountain, Switzerland, and several villages were entirely buried up iu the earth. In one of tiiese towns lived Joseph Wigeld and his family. He was one of the few that escaped with life, and on bis recovery of health, after the fearful trial lie had suffer ed, he wrote out the following narrative of bis experience during the catastrophe. It is trans .teri from a Swiss book entitled "The Moun i It was on the second of September, about Aigo'clock in the afternoon when I told my I st daughter, Louise, to take her pitcher ■ fining us iu some water from the spring. I Die took the vessel and proceeded on her er f .'and, but came back again in a few minutes, I ami told me that there was no water in the •'/' Wi g—it had ceased to flow. As ilie spring .s only on the other side of the garden, I wit myself to examine this strange phenome na, and found that it was as she had said, the dMii was dry. With my spade I set about removing a little earth, with the idea of per haps finding water below, or of discovering the cause of its failure. At that moment it seem el to uie that ths ground trembled be neath mv feet and on letting go of the spade from my hand, I was amazed at seeing itslia.te to ami Iro as it stood untouched upright iu the soil. I heard at the same moment tiie scream ing cries of a flock of hi.ds flying over head in a cloud As f was gazing up at their wild and hurried motions, I saw some heavy masses of rork part from the side of the mountain and [commence rolling down. Thinking my eyes *ere playing me false, I hastened to return to f house ; but, on turning round, found my t'on tlie brink of a huge rift in the earth, so " ' la( ' c ' osei t so completely that I oel' T '' ave known where she was, but for Urth " V et ru ' se fl itself out of the tj' *' ,reW m ? "P on the poor, dear 'l i " S K ri !'ped by the earih as in a childr 1 " i ' 1 '" 01 ''a** l left the spot but for my f w j,*ho cried and wailed and clamored * lb until I started up like one frantic r . seiimg one iu each hand, fled for life— !tt?e - w * e I thrown down by tbe vio ' THE BRADFORD REPORTER. lent shaking of the earth under me, and three times I rose again with the children aud pur sued my flight. At length, it WHS no longer possible to retain a footing for a moment ; if 1 laid hold of a tree for support, the tree fell ; if I sought to steady myself by a rock, therock glided away from my grasp, as if it had been alive. I could only lay the two children on the ground and myself by their side. The next moment, it was as if the day of judgment had conie-~the whole mountain fell. During the whole of the remainder of the day, and part of the night, I remained there with Ihe suffering children ; we imagined that we, of all people, were left alone in the world, when suddenly we heard some oue shouting at a few paces distant. The voice was that of a young fellow from Busingen. lie had been to church with his bride that same morning, and was returning wifh the wedding party from Art. Just as they were all entering Goldau, lie lingered behind to pluck a bunch of flow | ers for his bride from one of the garlands.— i When he sougnt to re-joiu the party, he found I nothing but horror aud desolation ; the vil j luge, his friends, his bride, ull had been swal I (owed up or crushed beneath the wreck, aud i he kept wandering hastily among the ruins, culling "Catherine ! Catharine 1" I called 1 to liiir, and he came to us ; but when he saw . that she whom he was seeking was not with us, he left immediately. The moon was shining, and, on rising and looking round us, we could see that the large cross was yet standing. On approaching it, I perceived an old man laying at the foot of it as if dead ; I saw that it wa. my father, and, thinking liiin deed, I threw myself on the- bo ; dy, and I found he was unhurt, aud had only tieen asleep. In extreme old age the mind is little moved by circumstances. I asked him if ■ he could tell me what had happened at the ; house, which he was about entering when the j calamity occurred ; but ail lie knew was, that { our servant, Francis, had caught up little Ma rianne, exclaiming, " The day of judgment has j come, let us save ou'selves 1" The next mo ment the house was overturned, and lie him j self was thrown across the street. He could give no farther account of anything ; his head had been thrown against a rock, and he had been stunned by the force of the blow. When lie had recovered Iroui his stupor, he had re collected the cross, had groped towards it, and having said his prayers there, had then fallen asleep. 1 gave him the charge of the two children, and then wandered about among the ruins, endeavoring to discover, if possible, where our house bad been. At last by the aid of land-marks,and by marking the position i of the cross relatively to that of the summit of the Ilos.sberg, I came to the conclu ion that I had found the spot. I got upon the top of a mound of soil heaped over the wrecks of a , dwelling, and, stooping down with my face to j the ground, called out to the utmost strength i of my voice, as though speaking to workmen in a mine. I heard instantly the sorrowful tones of a child's voice answering me, and i kr.ew at once it was little Marianne. All ho' 1 had no tools, I began at once to scrape and ; rake away the earth with my hands ; and iu this manner, the soil being loose and shifting, j succeeded iu soon making a bole to lite depth of several feet, until I came to the rool of my house. I tore away the tiles ; and as soon as there was sufficient s-ace to allow of my getting through, I si d down below the beam and alighted in the room, which was strewed with stones and fragments of the walls. [ now called out again, aud was answered by a voice which seemed to com i from the bed ; it was that of the child ; I couhl feci her head aud a part of her body under the little couch, where she had been thrown. I endeavored to extract her, but site was fast wedge 1 between the bedstead and the floor. The roof ban crushed the bed by its tall, aud the poor child's leg was broken. Exerting myself to the very utmost, I suc ceeded iu hftiug thebeodstead, when she was enabled to crawl out upon her hands. As I lifted from the ground, and pressed her to my bosom, she said she was not alone and that the servant Frances was not far off. I called loudly, " Fences ! Frances J" and heard Iter groans in answer. She had been torn from the child, whom she was holding bv the hand when the ruin came, and was precipi tated headlong, and, with her face most frightfully bruised, had remained suspended head downwards, her body being held firmly by the fallen masses. After oig s ruggling she had got her hands free, so us to be able to clear the blood Irotn her face, but could do no more, and in this fearful position she lay listening to the moans of the little child.— She spoke to her, aud the child replied, and where she was, answered ihat she was stretched on her back under the cot ; that she could use her ha ids, and that, through an aperture above her head, she could see daylight and the branches of trees waving.— Marianne then asked Frances how long they would have to stay in that dreadful pla.e, and whether people would not come to look for them ; but Frances, still under the impression that the day of judgment was come, told her that they two alone of all the people on the earth were left alive, but that they should die and go to Heaven and be happy evermore.— Then he bade the little girl say her prayers, and the two prayed aloud together. While tliey were saying their prayer-*, they were comforted by the sound of a church bell which commenced ringing for service ; and then tliey heard a clock striking seven, and recognized the chimes of Stei uersburg Church. Frances began now to hope that help would come to them, as there were people still alive and not far off. She therefore strove to comfort the child, who by this lime feeling very hungry, was moaning and crying for supper, iiy de grees the moans and cries became weaker, and soon ceased altogether,so that Frances thought that poor Marianne was dead. All sounds had now ceased, and she prayed to God that she herself might die. and be with the child an angel in Heaven. In this way passed many weary hours. Fiances felt a dreadful icy cold ness in her limbs ; her blood could no longer circulate; she felt assured that death was PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. near. But little Marianne, who had oniy fal len asleep, now awoke, and began to weep and moan again ; these feeble sounds, coming from u human voice, roused the fainting Fiances, who, struggling with all her might,finally freed one of her feet from the mass of rubbish, ttnd having thus succeeded in changing her position she felt so tar relieved as to be able to take a little rest. She fell into a kind of slumber, from which she had been startled by the sound of my voice. When I got hold of her, it was with the utmost difficulty that I succeeded in extricating her from the ruins. She supposed all her limbs to be broken, and, ns she suffer ed intolerably from thirst, she begged and prayed for water. I brought her to the child tn.der the aperture I hud made, and bade her look up at the stars ; but she could not see them, and told me she thought she had lost her sight. I bade her reinin where she was, and promised that I would return to save her; but she laid hold of me, and implored me not to leave her. It was sometime before I could quiet tyer fears ; but, on being assured that there was no longer any danger, and that I would come back to her as quickly as possible, she allowed me to endeavor to escape with the chi'd in the first instance. Then I took her apron from her, and tying up Marianne within it, slung it round my neck holdiug it also as (irmly as I could with my teeth. Having thus my hands at liberty. I was able to sway myself up along the beam which I had sliddeu dewn, and so got out with the chihi. I made all haste to the foot of the cross where I had left my father ; on tny way thither 1 again fell in with the poor bride groom from Busingcn, who still with flowers in hand was searching for his bride? "Where is Catherine?' said her; "have you seen Catherine ?" " Come along with me," I said, " I ata go ing to the cross." "No, no," he returned sharply, " I must find her I must find her and he ran off, cal liug loudly for Catharine. At the foot of the cross I found not only my father and the two little ones, but several other persons who had escaped, and had ran thither for safety. 1 gave Marianne in charge of her brother and sister who were older, and promised to take care of her, and then I told the people that our servant Frances was still in the ruins of our house, and that I did not know how to get her out. One of them direc i ted me to a lone house which was standing at some distance off,and said I might get there a ladder and ropes. I ran to the house, and found it empty, with the doors wide open, the inmates having fled. Hearing a noise up stairs I cailed out, when a voice replied, "Is that you, Catherine?" I knew it was the poor young man looking for his bride, and it almost broke iny heart to hear him. To avoid meeting him, 1 ran out into the courtyard ; there I found a ladder, which I seized, and also a gourd,which I filled with water, and then rati back to Frances. I found her a little revivtd by tlie fresh air and she was standing upright under the hole, expecting me. 1 put down the ladder till it touched the ground, and then carried down the water, of which poor Frances eagerly drank. I had no difficulty then in guiding lnw up the ladder, ulthough she could not see ; and thus, alter being buried jjJive for fourteen hours she was rescued. She continued quite blind tor several days, and during a much longer period was subject to nervous convulsions. When at length the sun rose upon that fear tul scene, no language can describe the aw.'ul spectacle it shone upon. Three villages hud entirely vanished ; a hundred dwellings and t wo churches had been swallowed up; and four hundred of the inhabitants hud been buried alive. A vast portion of the mountain, roll ing down in the Lake of Lowertz, had driven forward the mass ot water in a wave a hun dred feet high and three miles long, which, sweeping over the Island of Sehwadau, hud washed away all its inhabitants and their dwellings./ The wooden chapel of Otter was seen floating on the waters of the hike ; and the bell of Golduu church was huried through the air to a distance of more than half a mile. Of more than four hundred persons whodwealt in the doomed villages, ouly seventeen surviv ed the catastrophe. This narrative was written by me at Art, on January 10th, 1807, for the sake of tny little daughter Marianne, that she may not forget when I am no longer living to remind ner of it, that though we were chastised by the Lord, he remembered us in mercy. JOSEI'II WIGF.LD. AN INVITATION' TO DINNER. —It was observ ed that a certain covetous rich man never in vited any one to dine with him. " I'll by a wager," said a wag, " that I get an invitation from him." The wager being accepted, he goes the next day to the rich man's house about the time he was to dine, and tells the servant he must speak with his master immediately, for he cau save him a thousand pounds Outcaine the master. " What is that, sir; you can save me a thousand pounds?" " Yes, sir, 1 can, but I see you are at din ner; I will go away and call uguin." " O.i, pray, sir, come in aud take dinner with ine." " I shall be troublesome." " Not at all."' The invitation was accepted. As soon as dinner was ove; , and tiie family retired, "Well, sir," said the man of the house, " now to vour business. Pray let me kuow how I am to save a thousand pounds." " Well, sir, I hear you have a daughter to dispose of in marriage " " I have, sir." "And you intend to portion her with ten thousand pounds." " I do, sir." " Why, then, sir, let me have her, and I will take her with nine thousand pouuds." The master of the house arose iu a passiou, and kicked him out ot doors. BST A blanderbnss : Kissing the wrong woman. " RE6ARDLK3S OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." The Restored. A THRILLING REVOLUTIONARY STJRT. God is everywhere. His words are on the heart. He is on the battle field or in our peace ful homes. Praise be to His holy name. It was in the wilds Wissahicon, on the day of battle, as the noon day sun came through the thickly clustered leaves, that two men met in deadly conflict near the reefs which rose like the rock of some primeval world, one thousand feet above the dark water of the Wissahicon. The man with dark, brown face, and dark er gray eyes, flashing with deadly light, and muscular form, clad in a blue frock of the revolution, is a continental named Warren. The other man, with long black hair drop ping long his cadaverous face, is clad in the half military costume of a tory refugee. This is a murderer of Paoli named Dehuch. They met by accident and now they fought not with sword or rifle, but withlonge deadly hunting knives they struggled, twining and twisting on the green sward. At last the tory is down—down on the turf with the kuee of the continental upon his breast —the np raised knife flashed death in his face. " Quarter ! I yield," gasped the tory, the knee was pressed upon his breast—" spare me, I yield." " My brother," said the patriot iu that tone of deadiy hate, " My brother cried for quar ter on the night of Paoli, and even as he clung to your knees you struck that knife into his heart. O, I will give you the quar ter of Paoli." And, his hand raised for the blow, and his teeth clenched with deadly hate, he paused for d moment, then pinioned the tory's arms and with a rapid stride dragged him to the verge cf the ruck, aud held him quivering over the abyss. j " Mercy 1" gasped the tory, turning ahy pale as that awful gulfyawued below. "Mer jcy I" I have a wife and child at home— | spare rue ? ! The continental witTi his muscuiar strength I gathered for the effort, shook the murderer once more over the abyss, and than hissed j his sneer in his face; " My brother had a wife and two children. The morning after the night of Paoli, that j wife was a widow, those children orphans.— | Would yui not like to go and beg your life of that widow and her orphans !" The proposal made by the continental in I mockery and bitter hate. was taken in serious j earnest by the terror stricken torv.—He beg | ged to be taken to the widow and her orphan ed chihlten and to have the privilege of beg | ging bis life. After a moment's serious ; thought, the patriot soldier consented. lie ! bound the tory still tighter, placed him on : the rock, and led him to the woods. A quiet : cottage embossed among the trees, broke l out on their eyes They entered the cottage. There beside the desolate hearthsoue, sut the widow and her children. She sat there, a matronly women of about ; twenty-three years, with a face faded by ! care ; a deep dark eye and long black hair hanging in disheveled state about her shoul deres. —On one side was a dark haired boy of some six years, on the oilier side a girl one year younger, with light blue eyes. The bi ble —an old venerable volume—lay upon the : mother's knee. And now the pale faced tory ! dung himself upon his knees, and confessed | he had butchered her husband op the night of i Paoli, and begged his life at her bauds. " Spare me for the sake of my wife—my child—." He had expected this pitiful moan would touch the heart, but not one relenting gleam softened her face. " The Lord shall judge between us " she said in a cold icy tone that froze the murder ers heart. " Look, the bible is in my hand, I will close it, and tins boy shall open to a line, and by that you shall iive or die."— This was a strange proposal, made in good faith, of a wild and dark suoersliiiou of old times. For a moment the tory, pale as ashes, was wraped in deep thought, then in a faint ing voice signified his concent. liaising her dark eyes to heaven, the moth er prayed to the Great Father to direct the finger of her son. She closed the book and liauded it to the boy whose cheeks reddened with loathing as he guzedj upon his father's murderer, lie took the bible ; opened its holy pages at random, aud placed his finger upon a verse. There was a silence. The continental sol dier who iiad sworn to aveng his brother's death, stood with dialating eyes and clenched teeth. The culprit kneeling upon the floor with a face like discolored clay felt his heart leap to his throat. Then in a clear voice, the widow read this line from the old Testament. " Thai man shall die.!" Look 1 the brother springs forward to plunge a knife in the murderer's heart, the tory pinioned as he is, clings to the widow's knee.—He begs that one more trial may be mand by the little girl, that chile<£*with the golden hair and black eyes. The widow concents. There is an awful pause. With a smile in her eye, without knowing what she was doing, the little girl opened the Bible as it lay upon her mothers knre ; she put her finger upon a line. The awful silence grows deeper. The deep drawn breath of the brother, and the broken gasp of the murderer, alone disturb the still ness ; the widow and dark haired boy are breathless. The little girl, as she caught a feeling of awe Iroiu those about, stood breath less, her face turned aside, and her finger 011 the line of life or death. At length gather ing courage, the widow bent her eyes upon the page and red. It was a line from the New Testament. " Love your enemies." O, book of terrible majesty and childdike love—of sublimity that chrushes the heart with rapture—you never shone more strongly than there in "that lonely cot of WissahicoQ when you saved the murderer's lift. Now how wonderful are the ways of heaven. That very night a? the widow sat by the fire side thiukiug of her husband who now luy smouldering on the drenched soil of Paoli— there came a tap at the door ; she opened it ; that husband, living though covered with wounds, was iu her arms. He had fellen at the Paoli, but uot in death ; and his wife lav panting on his bo?om. That night there was a prayer in that wood embowered cottage of the Wissahicon. INSTINCT OF THE DOG. —Among the Gram pian mountains there are glens chiefly inhabi ted by shepherds, and the pastures over which their flocks range extend in every direction for many mile?. It is the daily business of the shepherd to visit successively the different ex tremities of the pastures, and to turu back auv of the flock that may be straying to those of his neighbors. It is a common practice with the Highlanders to accustom even their young chil dren to the rigors of the climate ; and on oue occasion, a shepherd took with him an iufaut of about three years old. To have a more ex tensive view, be assended a summit at some distance, and,as this was too fatiguing for the child, he left it at the foot of the mountain, charging him not to stir until his return.— Scarcely, however, had he reached the top when one of the mists which frequently fall on these mountains came suddenly, and in a few minutes, almost changed day into night. Has tening back to find his child, he missed his way the the morasses and cataracts around,and night actually came on while he was continuing his search in vain. At length, in his wander ings, he reached the verge cf the mist, aud the moon having now risen, he found he was not far from his own cottage. Further pursuit appeared very dangerous, aud he entered his home greatly distressed, for his child was lost, aud a dog also, who had faithfully attended hiin for many years. At the break of day,accom panied by several of his neighbors, he went forth in quest of the child,but the day was spent without success. Returning to his cottage, nt night-fall, he found that the dog had returned, but had immediately left home ou receiving a piece of cake. As this was done more than once, and the child could not be found, the shepherd determined to reijain at home, and when the dog should next cotno and go, warily follow hiin. As he did so, he tracked the dog to a cataract,the banks of which almost joined at the top, but were separated by a chasm of considerable depth, and down one of these rug ged descents it proceeded, and entered a cave, the mouth of which was almost on the level with the. torrent. It was with difficulty that the shepherd followed, but, on entering.be be held, with indescribable feelings, his child eat ing the cake the dog had just brought. The child, it afterwards appeared, had wandered from the spot where he was left, to the brink of the precipice, and then had either fallen or scrambled down till he reached the cave, from which lie had not gone, from fear of the tor rent. Hither he had been traced by the dog, who had not quitted him night or day, except to go home for food ; and he was observed to go thither and return at his utmost speed. ! WATERLOO THE DAY AFTER THE BATTLE.— On the surface of two square miles, it was as ! eertained that fif'.v thousand men-and horses j were dying ! The luxurious crop of ripe grain which had covered the field of battle, was re* 1 dueed to litter and beaten into the earth, and | the surface trodden town by the cavalry and | furrowed deeply hy the cannon wheels,strewed ; with many a relic of the fight. Helmets and ! cuirasses, shattered firearms and broken | swords 5 all the varieties of military ornaments lancer caps and Highland bonnets ; uniforms ! of every color, plumes and pennon ; musical in ! Moments the apparatus of artillery, drnms, bugles, but good God ! why dwell on the har rowing picture of a foughten field ?—each and every ruinous display bore mute testimony to the misery of such a battle. Could the melan chofy appearance of this scene of death pe heightened, it would be by witnessing the re searches of the living, amid its desolation, for the objects of their love. Mothers and wives and children for days were occupied in that mournful duty ; and the confusion of the cor pses—friend and foe intermingled as they were —often rendered the attempt at recognizing individuals difficult and sometimes impossible. In many places the dead lay four feet deep upon each other, marking the spot some Brit ish square had occupied, exposed for hours to the murderous fire of a French battery. Out side lancer and cuirassier were scattered on the earth. Madly attempting to force the serried bayonet of the British, they had fallen in bootless essay by the musketry of the inner Gles. Furtncron you trace the spot where the cavalry of France ar.d England had en countered ; chasseur aud huzzar were inter mingled ; and the heavy Norman horse? of the Imperial Guards were interspersed with the charges which had carried Albion's chivalry. Here the Highlander and Tiralleur lay side by side together ; and the heavy dragoon, with green Erin's badge upon his helmet, was grap pling in death with the Polish lancer. On the summit of the ridge,where the ground was cum bered with the dead and trodden fetlock deep in the mod and gore by the frequent rush of rival cavalry, the thick strewn corpses of the Imperial Guards pointed out the spot where Napoleon had been defeated. Here, in column the favored corps, on whom his last chances rested, had been annihilated ; and the advance and repulse of the guard was traceable to a mass of fallen Frenchmen. In the hollow be low, the last struggle of France hud been vain ly made ; for there the Old Guard attempted to meet the British and afford lime to their disorganized companies to rally. The follasjng is a true copy of a letter received by a schoolmaster in Michigan:— " Sur, as you are a man of noledge, I inteud to enter my son in your skull." B&* If you wish to appear agreeable in ■ociety, yon mnst consent to be taught many thing* that yon know already. VOL. XXII. —NO. 0. Slaughter of two Thousand Persons in Africa. One of the native missionaries who wituessed the " grand custom " of the King of Dahotncy says that more than 2000 male human beings were slaughtered, and about as many females and young children, besides enormous numbers of deer, turkey-buzzards and other fowl. In a commercial point of view it has been produc tive of evil. The West Africa Herald says : We learn that besides the terrible sacrifice of human life caused by tlie Pahoman 1 grand custom,' it has ulso had the effect of,in a great measure, putting a stop to trade in that part of the country. All the principal people have been compelled to repair to the capital Abomey and reruaiu there to witness this custom, lu Wydah we understand there were, when our informant left that town, a few people bat wo men and slaves. The palm uuts were rotitig on the trees ; commerce and agriculture were languishing grievously. Amoug the King of Dahomey's army there is a troop called Amazon Guard?. The West Africa Herald thus describes them ; " The Amazon Guards, as they have some times been styled, are the most extraordinary troops that we have ever heard or read of.— They are 3,000 in number, all females, and display such a degree of ferocious blood t'birst irsess and hardihood as to bear a greater re semblauce to a host of mad tigresses than to human creatures. They utterly despise death; they show no mercy to any living being in war, ' they are mad after blood, and seem not to know what fear means. They are in fact a troop of devils, so to speak, whose hideous wildnessof manner, and the savage madness of whose demeanor in times of excitement is so appalling and inhuman as to have Ud many well judging persons to opine that these dreadful creatures are periodically subjected to the influence of some species of drug, which has this effect. Tue dress of the Amazons consists of a pair of loose trousers an i upper garment covering the breast, and a cap. | They are armed with a gun, knives and dag gers ; some have blunder busses, others loug elephant guns, while the remainder carry the ordinary musket. In their military exercises I they display good dicipline, as well as wouder ! ful dexttrity and agility." ' _ —___ " CAN'T CHEAT THE PROFESSION." —An East ern paper, speaking of a man who was un able to procure mclical attenda'c •, says:— " He died without the aid of a Physician and such instances are very rare. Such con ! duct is discouraged. If a man dies without | the aid of a physician, the coroner proceeds to inflict post inortum fvengence upon him.— He calls not one but two or three doctors, who proceed to vindicate the slight on the profession. They rip open the unfortunate'® body, and if the debased complained of a painc in his stomach a short tirno previous fo his death, they saw his skull iu two and re move the brain for microscopic inspection.— His stomach is removed for chemical inspec tion, and never brought back again. The#" then certify that the deceased died from a " diagonosis" of the horizontal membrane of the right vertebra,' which being a mysterious disorder beyond tho knowledge and compre hension of the laity, is supposed to have been a special visitation upou tbe unhappy man for his iciquitv in trving to escape a doctor's bill." B&yCol. Billy Wilson's Zouaves are having all sorts of stories told about tiiem. A corres ; poodent of the sprightly Milwaukee Sentinel tells the following :—" Yesterday,a Methodist clergyman went down to Staten Island to ex i hert them. Billy Wilson drew up his uien, i and called attentbn 1" The parson then gave them a very edifying and appropriate discourse j to which, in obedience to the colonel's coin | mauds, they listened attentively. Wbea tho [inrson hud tinished, Billy gave his ' boys' a . short talk, somew hat iu this wise: 'Boys, I " want you to remember what the minister has told you. It is all for your good ; take his ad vice and follow it j for there is no knowing but that iu less than six months every d——-done of ycu will be in Ilell !' Here a voice from the ranks called out 'Three chters for Hell !' and they were given with a will. The parson, as tonished and angry,asked what it meant. 'Oh,' says Biily, ' the boys don't know much about Scripture. They think Hell is somewhere be tween Montgomery and New Orleans,and they are d d anxious to get down in that neigh berhood !'" CHALLENGES. —A gentleman from the troops at the Relay House says that the sentinals have, in some instauees, a pleasent way of making challenges. A fellow who had been fishing on the Patapsco, and secured u fine string of fish, was stopped by the usual ques tion, " who g. e there ?" " Fishermau" was the answer. " Advance fishermau and drop two shad," the alert scutiuel, looking out for his own coramissiriat. The Montgomery Confederation gives tho following frotn a correspondent : " Ou the first night aftgr ray arrival, in passing from one quarter to an other, I was stopped by a sentinel whom I recognized as private P (though he did not recoguizs me.) I was for the countersign, and replied " a friend with a bottle of whiskey the reply was " advance bottle and draw stop per," which I did, and was suffered to pasa on my way rejoicing. fSjr Id nature in one person disturb tho whole company, and make them feel cross, to, as, electricity at one end runs the whole length of the wire. J6T Atl Irish lover remarked that it is a great pleasure to be alone, especially when yoar " swate heart is wid ye." 4®* Why is the Star Spangled Banner like the Atlantic OceaD ? Because it will never cease to wave.