•Ifus PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
•I'OWANDA :
j, Morning, Novemlijr 21, 1861.
jklcttcb ipoctrn.
/From the Cincinnati Commercial.)
THE SWEET LITTLE MAN.
BSDICATHD 10 Tim~*T* v AT 'IOMH RXXGKK*.
. .f w , are lighting our battles,
• p',,t to il> all taat he can. j
an i cout.rabanJ chatties,
.v;i* 1' y ,)U <lei"S m y swee * little man?
• brave bovs under catvas are sleeping,
them prtwing to march with the Tan,
.. :,; iUr !i„me where their sweethearts are weeping; .
,i aie yon waiting i'-r, my sweet little man ?
r „\th , te terrible warlike mustaches,
' . f or x C"1 "iel or chief ola clan,
■ w tli the waist made frreword belts and sashes,
, itl(j „c your shoulder.straps, sweet little man ?
, |a„, the butt >ule-s garments cf woman,
:, r ,i,,ace. lest it freckle and tan ;
Lrthe Aproa String Guards on the c.maiou,
\ .JX is the corps lor theoet little man.
, hitn for escort a tile of j > ing misses.
y K h of them aimed with a deadly ratun ;
, niia.i deiend him tram laughter and bissea,
a.med by low i fat 111' svn litl.e man.
•• ir iB-i : .lensid 11-iin shall cluster,
■ ti,e white leathers from Louie I and fan,
,
the ciest : f u sW.xt littie man.
[ ;iie Apron String Gnards are the fellows !
. .. our troubles began !
I , i -uti r- ! " S tulvicr uoibKll&s!
I the sty.,: for the sweet little urn a !
e a ...itt >n to -sir ? In the Drt place
. - is til' SCc - pt.'U ;
the t win re tin ie sshootin,V the worst place
: ,t 1 .... Maud, say.- he swot little man 1
I
|
■
I. hes my c... Ps, uys the sweet little man
was the staff of the Hulaknff takers,
[■ I acre the -)1 Iter-, that - talcd the P.odan ;
.1 hnuseiiiaids aud b'.oouthirsty Quakers,
j -e n it the wrath of the sweet little man.
; i. :u Ihe sidewalk, ye nursery maiden-*!
i.ut' <yuipfut liiiiiKiKT, ani I'iirht ab->u.. A.sv,
e as a shark u * school f mewl i lens,
v tn a advancing, the sweet little matt!
: the red tlui.'s of the Battle field threshers
t out the continent'* wheat li< m bran,
i- the iv,iiu - liters the, halfy -i ceshcra,
■ jjt will become ot oui s.vtet little man ?
the brown soldier i om; back from the borders,
vvi.i he . '"k when hispeaturcs tliey scan 1
.t! be feel when'lie gets marching orders,
I .~| h> his lady love tjweet little man !
■ fir hiin. though the rebels expect b,m
I ■: . reei HIS to shorten its span ;
f . ii-r broomstick will raise to protect him ;
. -.ie not light lor the sweet little man?
> iiien, thiee cheers for the Stay-at-Home lianger,
iv lb" great lisli horn and Beat tlie big pan !
in the tit-Id t .atis farthest from danger,
!.se your urlmc-lcatlier jiluine, sweet little nan !
511 ftt t b Calf.
Mark Wilton's Incentive.
Marry will) Clara l'reston ?" cried Mr.
.in U .I'on, Willi elevated eyebrows, and
.- '. - red louk generally.
I Vc>, replied liis son. " I wish to
i I'.ura Preston uiy wife."
U ay, .M oh Wilton, you are crazy. Just
nal yuai-elt as toil are. Tike a caretul
■ II yui (ib-ase —here you stand, threeand
-1 i years u. ige, and the only child 1 have
: flunk of the money I have expended
lour education Thousands of dollars,
i ee what efforts I have made to give you
wurable start in the world. Your iegitl
> JII has been received under the best of
"-■ you have been admitted to the bar tin
'lT most fluttering auspices, and Mr. La
n-iiii s me lli it you have the stuff in
uiike tue In si lawyer in the State. —
J .-:r,you know your father has the wealth
1 1 )uu up. 1 could pluce a half million*
'■ to your credit this very day if 1 were
- I'd Hut, sir, what do you imagine will
ue ol you if vou take your first important
11 tons ' J will select a wife tor you
'fit, rov father, I have pledged my faith
'"fa I'testoii, tin I 1 cannot break it. She
" i '" d I 1 >cck for a wife. She is true and
H! „i intelligent,aud, moreover,
uie devotedly." "
1' oes your tut tier's money," interruped
■ l "MII wit') a curl of the lip.
"k H ituu star ed up troiu his chair, and
" i' Ifisli of Ins face told how very deeply
1 111 cut. Hut he was in the presence of
>i uiii,-r, and tie coutrolled himself as
,s 'ie Could.
*' " 1 ptuvoke ne," he said, with his lips
1 -tr. |
'' : f |f y ! provoke,indeed! You should
• "viii ol ibiit before you approached
"Ueli a scheme as this in your md
1 tell you, my son, I will find a wife
i'*U luyM-li;'
i" is no me I, sir," stoutly persisted
' ", " lur I have found one already.—
*. M r, will y,u toil me why you ob
"Claia I'reßiou ?"
b n ., IUvJ e j s no t what society
)<itr mate. She is nobody ! who are
i'ireut> 1"
N"c liu> none."
• l y---i,e Ims none And when she did
"i. I warrent you they were out of the
class. Hut I don't want to argue tiie
' r my mind is made up. To the bus
-1 la| u l'res on, I will never give a
property. Do you understand
s " s Milton arose, and walked across the
had a light graceful form, with a
bea r ing of peculiar comeliness, and, vvhenocra- ]
sion called, lie could be erect and proud. His
face was rather pale, and the delicately cut
features betrayed intellect enough for any de- j
: part men tof active life. If he had a lack it
was in vital energy and physical force ; but
| this was nothing in his way if he had iucen- •
; live enough to overcome it, for overcome he !
could. As he finally stood before his father, .
I with his arms folded upon his breast,the whole
pride of his soul was in action. He told his
' parent that he should marry with the maiden
of his choice,
i The old man's answer was short and very
i firm.
; There was still further arguing—further ques- 1
1 tiouiug and answering—but no chauge of feel
i ii.g—no chang of intent.
! " You have my firm decision," said Jorham
Wilton And those who knew that old man
could not have doubted him. lie was too proud,
J too firm, too self willed to trifle.
" And," replied Mark, very slowly and
solemnlv, " you have mine. I shall make
Clara I'reston my wife, if I live. And 1 till
■ you now that I will not barter away my soul
for money. You understand me."
" I understand what you say "
" And i only say just what I mean "
" Then I understand yon fully. And, Mr.
Mark Wilton, 1 would be sure that you fully
understand me. It you marry that girl, louk
to vour father's bank account no more. Not
; another penny—not another penny ! '
Mark \\ iiton anticipated something of this
; E irt —and vet. when lie svu.-i once more alutie,
ami realized tiie lull force of his oppo-ition. lie
'.vas for a while overwhelmed watii anxious
thought. Thus far in life lie i. id never known
what it was to depend upon him- J. liis ta
liiei's immense wealth had been tiie sou.ee of
all liis hopes, and tlie future took color ami
form from the eotdcii store
A w iiile wu< tlie youth in great trouble, tint
g adually he rose above t'..e shock, and IJS
pride came to his aid ; for Ii ' hid pride, and
an independent spirit, and now that these
qualities had been so loudly called upon, tiny
stared up strong and : ure. lie folded his hands
together, and with his head erect and liis thin
lip- very firmly compressed, hc&wore he would
be his own master.
Clara Preston wa-> as beautiful as the artist's ;
ideal, uud those who knt-w her loved Iter fur
her gentleness and goodness. She wasan or :
'j phan, and bad for two or three y< ars support- ;
ed berseil by teaching music. Not a breath
was against her character—not a breath could
there be, for she was one of those pure, spir ]
fitnal beings who seem to make pure uud holy
the utmosphere about them.
In tlie eavning Mark Wilton came, and fold
" Clara the result of his interview with his fa
ther. She listened to him attentively, and 1
when he had concluded, she reached lorlii her ;
' delicate hand and rested it in liis
" M irk," she said, gazing ear .estly into his
face, " I have heen fearful of this, and J tell
you freely that I have not a word of fault to
find with your father. It would be hard tor :
me to give you up. but it would lie still hard- !
irto see you suffer on my account. If, as
matters now sta id, you would sever the bond*
between uq 1 shall be conteiit,uud I will never
blame you while I live."
" Clara," cried the young man vehemently,
i " you don't know me. Give you up ! I'd
sooner give up my life. My father has my an
swer I can give up his wealth ; but 1 can- j
j not give up to the love and faiih ot my heart. ,
! No, dearest one, no cloud- shall come between :
thee and me. My resolution is taken, and
henceforth 1 am my own master, subject to
onlv sti'-a bonds as love aud duty to thee shall |
) i impose."
Tlie maiden regarded her lover for some
t, moments in silence. She saw how proud ar.il
1 determined lie looked ; how hold and daunt
; less tlie fmht that flashed in his dark eyes ; ;
: ! how hopefully and trustingly he turned liis
[ I soul's aspiration toward herself ; and she fell
! that she did no wrong in sustain.ng hiin
i \ " Mark Wilton," she said, giving him both
her hands, " if you can love and trust me thu-; j
' if you can give up so much for me ; if you ]
. ' can now, iu the first flush of manhood, turn
from the hopes of other years, and link your
fate with mine, I will lore iwul cherish you to ,
I tlie end. My best effort shall le yours, and
with all my power of heart and soui I will
serve you."
1 " Before Heaven, I lira content !" replied !
the youth ; and, ns lie spoke, lie seemed to ,
I summon all liis energies lor the battle cf life I
before him. He drew the fair one npon his '
bosom ; and, as he held her there, he firmly re- ■,
solved that lie would live to show Lis father, '
and the world, that he could sustain himself
a-- became an honorable and independent
: man.
The dnv was finally set for their marriage. ]
" We cannot be married, in my father's
house," said Mark
" No," returned Claru, " I had supposed
that ; and 1 planned that we w ill be married
at the house af an old friend of mine. Will
j it please you to have it thus ?"
The young man readily consented, and the
! arrangements w re made accordingly.
The veiling came, and Murk was ushered
into the liou-e of CI iru's friend, whom he had
heard culled Mr. Sampson. Tina Mr. Sam-on
i was an old man ol patriarchal appearance; ;
quaintly dct>s<d; his hair and beard,white as
I MIOW seeming never to have suffered the Bp'
proacli of razor or shears. lie recaived Mai k
wtili touching kh dne-s ; and it was he who ,
gavethe blu-hing bride away.
" Now, my chihlieii," suid Mr. Sampson,
' after the ceremony had been performed, and
i Mark and Clurx were man and wife, " you
■ are about to commence the a-cetit ot life s hill
' together. Be true to each other ;be true to
I honor and duty ; " and, he added, raising his
; ' bands, while the big tears started to lus eyes,
; ' may GOD guard, guide, and bless you both."
Mark loved that old man—he learned to
t love bun al ouce ; und he promised himself
I ' much plasure in visiting him.
" I never jknew before that you had soeb a 1
j! friend," he- said to Clara when they were j
k alone
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WAN DA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
" Oh," she replied with a warm light break
ing through the moisture of her eyes, " he has
been my best frieud sinee my futher died.—
lie has never been ealled upon to serve me,
mueh bnt still I love him as a -father. And
you will love him, Mark, as you come to know
him. "There was mueh wonderment in society
when it became known that old Jolham Wilton
the retired banker had disinherited bis son;
and tie gossip-mongers had a busy time of it
for a while. Some said that old Jot ham had
(tone right ; others said that he had done
wrong, though they could not fully exonerate
the son. Others there were who, knowing
Clara, sided with the youthful couple, and de
nounced old Jolham as a monster of the first
water. The more sober and rational ones—
those who had known Jotham Wilton through
his long and useful career—were at a loss
how to understand the matter. At first they
were unwilling to believe that he could have
done such a thing, as diseuherit his only child.
It did not seem reasonable. "Of three prom
ising children," they said " Mark is the only
one left to him ; and it cannot be that he has
thus cast him off." But, finally, when they
found it was really so, they shook their heads,
and said that Jolbam Wilton was damaged.
in the meantime how was it with Mark
Wilton ? Like a new being he stepped forth j
from 'he old -inheritance, and put forth liis!
hand to work tor himself. He remembered
his solemn pledge, and he was determined to j
redeem it. lie said that he would show to j
the world, and to his father, an independent, j
s.-lf sustaining man, and he meat to do it. And
then in lus lust new home lie had an angel tol
| sustain him. Hy every word and deed, and I
by every look and thought, did Claru seek to
stistn n and encoiii age hill).
For the tii si six mouths Mark made but, lit
tie lippuictit headway. Yet he vta* wry Uli
I gent uuJ hojteftii, and faltered ii'-1.,. He was
' punctual at his office, attending' to such bu-i
ius ns was ie't with him with faithfulness,and
devot ng ud bis leisure moments to s'u !y. 111
! Ins office and at home he studied; nnd the
harder lie wot Led the more d d he find to work
!lies pride—his pride was leading hiiu on
pride, sharpened and intensified by resent
iueut — the most powerful incentive that could
have becu given bun ; and he was determined
! to rise to distinction. He attended the courts;
. liste id to the lji -t pleaders ; aid then, when
alone with his wife, be held impromptu courts,
l and tried important cases over again.
At the expiration of rix months he was en -
I gaged to defend a party who had beeu sued
for trespass in removing a building belonging
I to tin- plaintiff fiom land belonging to said
j defendant. It was a case involving some nice
i .ids of law, but Mark Wilton proved liini
-elf equal to the emergency, and gained a vcr
: diet lor his client.
j Murk had now gained the first round of the
j ladder, and lie kept his gaze fixed eagi rly up
on the top. Aiioiht-r ca-e was soon gained by
j Lim, in the conducting of which he displayed
such mark- d ability aa to cull forth the t-u
--j comiuuis ot the court.
When i' became known that Milk Wilton
was a rising nan, he hud bu-iness enough hut
! he would not put liis hand to ail that was offer
ed. It soon became known in the courts that
he was a conscientious man. And, further
i more, it was discovered, as he did more busi
-1 ness, that he was punctual, faithful aud tumor
! able.
It was an cnivablo reputation for a young
j lawyer, but he had worked hard to gain it.—
Aye—he had worked witluut ceasing. At
1 home, and in his office, over his bo iks, and
over Id- thoughts, he had beet) busv with an
| eye to the one idea ot his life. Step by step
In had worked his way up, feeling, at every
udvanc -, th.it he was coining nearer to the
tution from which lie could demand of his fath
er such recognition us one man is bound to
give another, who merits it in honor. Ah,
that was the high goal of liis pride—to reach
a station in life equal to the one his fatltor bad
i reached before him. O, how proud would he
I be w hen he had gained it !
• Hut wheu he had gained it, what would he
: be ? How would he meet his father ?—how
! present the crown he had conquered /He could
uot tell. He would wait nutil the lime come.
And did he see his father during these years
!of struggle '! Yes, he saw linn occasionally.
They met sometimes iu the street, aud some
times iu tlie courts. Tliey bowed and passed
' the bare compliments of recognition, but uoth
ing more.
And how was it in Mark Wilton's home ?
Go the angels of Peace and Love, for
those were tiieungtls that guarded the spot.
A Letter wile tnnti never bad. Mark never
regretted the slip he had ItiKen—never. And
yet, sometimes, when the memories of child
hood came back to him, Lis heart would go
forth in yearning utter a parent's love. And
in those moments he prayed that his father
! might live to bless him. Hut he suffered not.
His wife read all his thoughts, aud slio minis
tered to all liis needs ; and when she saw the
old recollections were upon linn, --he wound her
arms about Ins neck and whispered to him of
i the bright promises of the future.
Five years had passed—five years of uphill
toil ; and yet how rich in result, how freighted
i with reward that toil had been. It had been
most tiuiy up/till ; and tar, far up the hill hud
he worked Ins way.
On the loth of March, 18—, the large
court room was packed in every part ; and ail
over the country, where the newspapers were
rend, were anxious people waiting to learn she
1 result of that day's trial. It was mi action of
n giant monopoly against the rights of the peo
ple, and Mark Will on was for the defence.—
During three days the trial lusted, antl during
those three days Wilton fairly outdid his own
hopes unit expectations. lie knew that liis
father's I mends were there. He knew that
thousands were watching him, and that great
interest hung upon him. And, furthermore,
he knew thut in his house was one whose pray
ers were going up continually for him. There
1 was one thing more—he felt that this was a
• round far up the ladder and he resolved to
I reach it. luto it he threw his whole soul ;
1 and so uobly did he battle, 60 ably did he re-
"REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
fleet the rights of his clients, so powerfully did
he appeal on behalf of right and justice, and
so keenly and clearly did he open the merits
of his own case, and expose the numerous
wrongs of the opposition, that he carried al!
the disinterested hearts with liim. He gained
his case—gaiued it against the power of money
and numbers—gained it by such powers of his
own as few auioug his peers could have put
forth.
As Mark Wilton turned to leave the court
room, after he bad received tho congratula
tions of the bench and bar, he saw his father
there weeping. For an instant—but for an
instant only—there was in bis- soul a spirit of
exultation over liis weeping parent ; bnt a bet- j
ter feeling quickly came, and in the flush of
that proud hour, lie felt that it would be a
crowning joy to have that old man's baud laid
with a blessing upon his head.
That evening, ns Mark Wilton sat with liis (
wife, his clients,who had come to congratulate
liitn, having taken their leave, and his child
ren Laving been put to bod, the door-bell was
rung, and presently Mr Sampson was ushered
into theparlor Mark had not seen the old
man to converse with him for a long time.—
He knew that Mr Sampson had been a fre
quent caller at the house, and that lie had
spent much time with the children; but heliim
seif had been so busy that he had no opportu
nity to . hare his company. Now, however,he
was glad to see him,and his we'eomewas warm
and free.
Of course the conversation turned upon the
great trial ; and once more (Mara heard huw
the people were praising her htis'iand
" My son," said the old man, "you are at
th" tup of the ladder ; but. your work is not
done Your labor ot climbing may be over,
Out there is a high broad mountain of honor
and fame before von. Up its sloping side leads
one path that "id surely carry its fullowtr to
the summit. D, is the path of usefulness. I
would not touch yon with advice, but 1 speak
: with the fullness of my heart. '
" I understand you, rav good sir," replied
j Mark ; "and your hint pleases me. It pleases
j me most because it is the riflection of my own
1 feeling, and the sun of my own reflections. I
i have reached u proud station ; but I have onlv
I just begun to taste the sweets of succes-ful
labor. There are rich rewards in the future,
and 1 am resolved to gain them if 1 live."
Mr Samp-on was deeply affected ; but he
subdued Is is emotion, and then spoke to the
voting muu of liis father.
" 1 ;-aw your father last evening, Mark; at.d
lie iN proud and happy."
"IV ud and happy repeated the lawyer
; u a low, mi dilutive tone.
" Yes, indeed be is."
Muik Wilton rested his brow upon liis hand
and thought They were not new thoughts
iliut cime to him Una, —no; tiny weri "LnugS
that often occupied his min i thoughts given
' him by Ic.s blessed wife iu their seasons of
calm, hopeful communion.
" And yet," lie said, as though arguing with
himself, "my father cast me eff, and that, too,
for all time."
"No, no,"qniekly interposed tHo old ntan.
"He did not Uo that. I know he did not "
" Your are wrong," returned Mark, with a
sad shake of the head. " My father bound him
self by a solemn pledge."
" To what ?"
" That not one penny of nl! his property
should ever go to the husband of Clara I'res
ton. That—that was cruel. I care not for
his money now—God knows I do not—but it
is painful that this barrier still re
( mains."
The tears started to Mark's eyes as he
spoke ; and tho old man, wheu he essayed to
| reply, broke only into soli".
! "My dear father—my dear husband listen
1 to me," said Clara, starting from her chair,and
i standing before the two men. "The hour has
i surely come, and the cloud must be swept
away."
She seemed like one inspired. Her beauti
' fill face was radiant with a halo of glorious
i enthusiasm, and from her largetlustrous eyes
beamed the light ot joyous, holy effulgence.
"O, Mark, Mark—my own dear husband,
your lather did not cast you off—lie did not
hate me. He loved me tenderly and trusting
j ly. He hoped and prayed that I might be j out
wife ; and when lie knew that your heart was
| turned towards me he came and laiigiit me
how to cherish and honor you. Before I be
! came your wife he took the great bulk of his
property and made it over to you ; and yours
it is this very day, safely deposited, and beur
i ing interest upon interest to your account. He
did not give it to uiy husband but to my lover.
,O, Mark—my husband—be blind no more.—
' it was your own father who placed our bauds
together for the uniting of the sweet, sacred
bond; and he it was that blessed us both when
the union was complete. Your own father,
Mark, has been often, often beneath your roof
i and your children love him fondly, and call by
; the name he so proudly bears to them. O—my
husband, my father—"
i The long white hair, the flowing beard, and
the bushy eyebrows had dropped from the old
man's head and face ; and us Mark now turned
towards him the veil was removed. It was Ins
father—bis own father—standing before him,
with throbbing breast and outstretched arms.
1 ****** *
" My son," said Jotliam Wilton, "do you
see and understand it all ? 1 think it must be
plain to you. If the trial co-t you some bitter
moments, be assured it has cost me no less.—
You were all 'lie child that was left to me.—
Your two brothers, older than you, and in all
respects your equals in mind and intellectual
endowments, had grown up and faded away.
They had faded and died because they had not
the energy to lire. As you grew to manhood
I saw how it was with you. I saw how cer
tainly you would fail if some powerful stimulent
were not given to your energies. I saw you
leave college—l saw you admitted to the bar;
nnd 1 knew that you had the material in you
from which to fashion a valuable citizen ; but
1 knew also, that the will wis wanting. You
had been rear d in affluence, you had the pros
pect of an independence before you, and hence
vou were in danger. You needed exertion
needed it for your very life.—and Vet you had
not the incentive thereto; and lacking the in
centive, you would not move. You had pride
enongh, and independence of spirit enough ;
and I knew if I could bring some adequate
force to bear upon these elements, your salva
tiou might be worked.
"At length the opportunity presented itself
When I knew that yon loved Clara Preston, I
made up my mind upon the course 1 would pur
sue. Not until I become assured that Clara
had promised to be your wife did I dare to take
Iter into my secret; but I did so, at length,and
she joined me cheerfully. She had a double
incentive, for she not only prove.l her devotion
to your good, hut she also proved how willing
she was to forego the charms of wealth, and
labor for her home. As she told you I was
very careful how 1 proceeded. I said that I
would never give one penny to her husband ;
and, before you became such, I made vou pos
sessor in law of the hulk of my property ; and
what else I may have to give I can bestow up
on your wife and children,without breaking my
promise.
" And now, mv son, the work is done, antl
I feel that I have done well. Tell me—am I
forgiven fur the deception I have practised?"
" And," cried Clara, " tell me, too, am I
forgiven ?"
How dul .Mark Wilton answer?
He answered as the redeemed answer
He answered with joy and thanksgiving. And
from that hour he felt stronger than ever be
fore.
(From the National Republican )
A CAMP-FIRE STORY.
Doing guard duty on these clear, froslv
ni-iiits, iN what, I call a " big tiling." Stand
iug before a huge fire, whose glimmering rays
shoot into a oen-e pine forest which surrounds
vou, us if they, too, had partaken of the spirit
of vigilance, and were searching for some t id
den foe, one's mind naturally is affected, and
every shadow and tree has an soci ition which
awakens the soldier to a full appreciation of
ION sentinel duties. Hut such a night as last
night—dark, dreary, wet and disagreeable in
the ex tre mi—has an eiiiirely d fferent effect,
and we clustered around the lire, piled high
with Scesh rails, which at times seemed to ex
ert ns best light and most genial rays to spread
humor and life among tlio>e who stood smok
ing urouii I it. Then, as if exasperated at the
failure, it would splutter ami crack, contending
furiously with every drop of rain, and iu.->sout
a strong reproof at the element which was
making tiie sentinels so iiiicoiulortable. Hut
the guard must be vigilantly maintained tho"
the night, ami dare not sleep ; for you must
know, .Mr. Editor,that sleep courts the soldier's
eyelids as sweetly under the dropping rain a>it
d JCS in ins tent, if perchance lie has a gum
blanket for a bed, and his knapsack for a pil-
I low.
1 proposed a -ong, but the only music that
could be raised, was made by a corporal, who
doled out, in a most melancholy style,
" :S i:ne days must be dark and dreary."
This seeiucd to lie the only song that the
! eotporal knew, and the only one of that kind
! which we wanted to hear. Under these au>
; Dices, I proposed a story, and the sergeant of
; the guard, an old Mexican soldier "up and
' told" the following story, which I quote, as
! nearly as I can recollect, in liis own words :
" Seated in my tent, one evening, just before
the buttle of the city of Mexico, the captain
' came to ine with, " Corporal, I have been re
i quested to send a trusty liou-coinmissioiied of
ficer to the general council tonight as a mes
senger. Will you go f I replied in the af
■ firmative, thanking the captain for hi> confi
; deuce. Our company was, at that time, de
j tuehed from its regiment, au i was doi g sp<-
cial duty at Gen. Scott's headquarters, in the
discharge of that duty, 1 had made a p ml ot
1 being specially attentive, and thereby gained
tlie confidence of our captain, and once or
I twice was commanded by old " Fuss and FVatli
j ers" himself. I blushed up my old clothes, ami
| brightened my shoes alid hi ass plates in the
! neatest manner possible i hit evening, and pre
j seated myself at the Adjutant General for in
structions. I found that the council iriout to
meet for the consideration of Gen Scott's plans
| of taking the city, was to be composed of all
the Colonels in the division, and that toy duty
would be to go errands, and attend to bring
ing charts, paper, or whatever might be re
quired.
Well, tho council met, and I was at my post.
It was the finest body of military men I had
ever seen togetli. r, and when they assembled
around that table, and tiie old general stood
towering high above the rest, I could not help
but admire him more than ever. After the
customary salutation and organisation, tliey
sat down in regard to iauk, beginning with
General Wool, and succeeded each other in
seats, as seniority of rank gave them privilege.
It was no tme for delay, and the General
spoke rapidly ad with earnestness, occasional
ly referring to someone on the right or left for
information or corro .oration. Thus carefully
and explicitly were t lie movements and march
es, til -1 sallies, and sorties, the whole plan de
-1 veloped, so that all seemed to understand
Hut presently a plan was discovnl, something
was wromr, anJ 1 saw iy ilie perplexed look
of tho-e around tne table that a very serious
mistake had been made, but from what cause,
my knowledge ol military affairs did no enable
ime to judge. A dispute arose between some
I colonel and the engineer in eh ef, in regard to
| the posit ou and strength of some battery, and
i the topography of the .surrounding country,—
i The colonel said thut frequent, recoil nuisance
'f the ground, from the fact of liis being en
camped near the place in question, led him,
even in direct opposition to the chart of the
engineer, to protest against its truthfulness,
and he would urge upon the general to make
himself sure of the condition of affairs before
he fully completed h s plan But this would
not do ; it was necessery that very important
u d vigorous movements should take place up
on that very section of the defence, and with
out a correct knowledge of the place no act inn
could bd carried ou with safety or certainty.
VOL. XXII. —NO. 25.
It seeinld, iii fact, to be a main point, at which
positive success would have to fail to the
AiueiiCiiii forces. Finally, the colonel said
tti.it tlure ways a young lieuteni nt in his re
giment wtio nail a correct chart of the defenc
es and a map ot tiie deuieso thereto adjacent.
The engineer in chief sneeringly said," Very
i cell, sir, you had belter send for your authori
ty, and let us see this great uiup." Ibe general
nodded bis approval, and the colonel gave the
name and address of the lieutenant. The en
campment was not very far away, and I mount
ed my horse and rode oil' in haste to the regi
ment at headquarters, and found the very man
1 was in search of iu the colonel's tent, with
draughting paper on a table before hiui, and
sketches ot Hie city and its surroundings scat
tered everywhere. I handed liiin the note,
which lie lead aud hastily tore up, uskmg mo
if I could wait until he could borrow a horse ?
1 told hiui 1 could, but had not long to wait,
for lie came back in a few moments, and care
fully wrapping up liis surveys, he p uced them
in a long iiu case, and mourning, prepared to
follow me. On tiie way he conversed with so
much earnestness, and in such a mild, interest
ing manner, that 1 felt encouraged to tulk and
chat, contrary to ay usual practice wlieu on
horseback lie itilormed me that be was a
graduate of West I'oint, and that lie hud there
fallen so much in love with the science of ge
ometry that he had made it an almost constant
study, and that now he loui.d it very interest
ing, in the interval of vuiy, to make sketches
and surveys of the city.
When we arrived at the general's quarters
again, the lieutenant was introduced, ui.d, at
Ins colonel's request, produced his charts. The
party were astonished at their finish and fine
exteution, and when, alter examination, they
were found to be pell cut ly coi red, General
Scott came forward, and grasping the young
heuteiinul by the hand, personally compliment
ed hun on his skid, and thanked him for his
efficiency. The etiief engineer, sotnew hat cha
grined at this display ot k-aiiuiig on tiie purt
of tils young rival, sueeriugly said : " General,
per hups this young man has suiie plan by which
this part of the (le.'ences may be attacked."—
Upon it quiry it was burnt t at fye hud. a plan,
winch was produced with some degree ot re
luctance and laid before the assembly. It was
read, and criticisid, and corrected, und finally,
to make a long story short, adopted with some
amendments by the council This displeased
the engineer, who seemed to think that the
lieutenant, though but a very few years his
junior, had no right to display so much knowl
edge of a Meiiee which did not belong to Lis
branch of the service.
" 1 need not tell you," continued tbp corpor
al, " that, in the taking of Mexico a few days
after, the plan offered hy this lieutenant was
of signal service, and that he was breveted
soon afterward-* "
lit re the story end d, and the sergeant ro
lap-ed into his " pipe and silence." We all
looked for a while into the fire, when one of
the sentinels asked him what the name of this
young lieutenant was. lie slowly puffed the
-moke from his mouth, and answered :
"1 believe it was George —GEORGF. B. Ma-
CLF.I.! AX."
" And Who Was the engineer ?"
" 1 believe his name was George, too—
GEORGE T. BEACREGAED"
And we all suioked and looked into the fire,
until the sentinel call out —
" Grand rounds ! Turn out the guard !"
A Sister's Affection.
When the army of the Potomac mule its
advance a ft w dais since, a member of tha
2i-t New York Re giment picked Up, in a p ace
j.i n vaunted by tlie rebels, a copy of the It ch
tuond •HjuimiHtf of the prev.ous week, from
wliicii we clip ill following touching incident:
"One ol those aff cting incidents occurred
at the departure of the Yankfee prisoners for
New Orleans, ill it whether concerning friend
or toe, m ist move the stoutest heart. A young
lady of Northern birth, who has been some
tour a resident of this Btate, and having a lu
crative occupation, preferred to rem on hero
alter the war broke out, discovered, by some
means, that tier brother was among tne pris
oner:! in the city. She had made several uief*
tectii il applications and attempts to see him.
Owing to the necessity of military law in such
a case her most urgent request bad been refus
ed. For -ouie weeks the poor giri had been
too unwell to leave iier ho lie, but was recov
ering, and sitting at her window just as tha
prisoners passed by, on their way to the depot.
An impression seized her that her brother
was among them, though a separation ol sev-
erul years amJ liie iJift*. reiico of dress and cir
euiustaueea rendered recognition d.fticult. A
misgiving, however —one oi' those impulses of
the heart that are not stifled—caused her to
start to her feet, and hastily throwing o her
shawl and tioaiiet, she summoned a trieud and
hurried to the depot. There the guard was
so watchful and the line so strict that she was
unable to approach within ten yards ■ but
with straining eyes ami anxious iove, did tlio
poor gu l endeavor to scrutinize each probublo
tonu, until a mutual gaze met tiers, ami re
vealed the object of her search. Her brother
recognized her. Darling or.ve.rd, hut repuls
ed by liie guird, each precious moment threat
ening to sever them, perhaps, forever, wnoeaa
judge l ho agony of the poor stricken sister I
Some of the bystanders, becoming interested
in Ihe see no. used then influence to permit a
message to be conveyed to lite prisoner.
" Oa ! is iU'-rt; anything i can du for him,
anything he wants?" she exelanued. Hut the
wauis ut the prisoners were lew. With loss
ut liberty, whit else could avail htm '( ' Taka
tins," site s mi, " it is all 1 have Ut the world.''
80 they passed to the prioner a few dollar
lull* with some small change, not knowing
whether Hie poor boy would ever Hud any need
for it, or an oppotUtility of spending it. 80011
tlie ears were ready, lie took Ins seat with
the rest, in fu'l view of his sobbing sister, aud
the ears began to slow ly move.
With irresistable impulse she darted for
ward. Sympathy governed stronger than law
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