£ DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: nirsday Morning, November 28,1861. JSrlttttb poctrn. FAREWELL TO THE SWALLOWS. Swallows, sitting on the eaves, K ,,. je not the ftalher'd sheaves. Sue jc not the falling leaves 7 Farewell 1 Is it not time to go 1 , that fair litnd ve know ? The I n ezes as tliey swell. Of coining winter tell. And from the trees shake down The brown And withered leaves. Farewell! . Swallows, it is time to Hy ; See uot ye the allered sky ? Know ye not that winter's nigh 7 Farewell 1 Co ; fly in noisy bauds Tn tlnu-e far distant lands Of geld and pearl, and shell. And gem (of which they tell In books of travel strange :) There range In happiness. FureweL. Swallows, on your pinions glide O'fTthe re-t/ess r dling tide Of the ocean deep and wide ; Fare* a 1 •' I In groves far. far sway, I In (lie summer's sunny ray, In the wanner rcgious dwell! ■ A: d llien return to tell Strange talcs of foreigu lands, Jvr il on the eaves. Farewell! swallows, I could almost pray That 1. like yon, might fly away, H \n>l to each coming evil say— ■ Farewell! ■ Y et'tis my fate to like V Ik-re, and with cares to strive. I And I some day may tell How they be!.ire luc fill A'on<iutrcd. Then calndy die, •• Trials anil toil - Farewell!'' Sc It 1 1 1 b (Lair. lAiiOIiTEL A restless, sad, long-in;; little licart was Vatinir. iiinler a worn calico dress, in a little r in in Fourth street. Tears as warm and fief swollen as any that gush from woman's i cr-'j>f down the check a little way, paused, ■a a little farther, waited, trembled, and ~welliiig as the bosom swells with sighs, B iwii the maiden's cheek, and fell upon W .! d chintz. Through and through, and i gh again, slipp, (1 the needle, shining with \ ■ ii■■ vereintiag attrition of muslin and litiiu j •:Ik. The Argus-eyed thimble—nothing' I er tlian steel, though worn to the polish I % iver—clicked against tic needle, pressing I through the close fabrics into the calloused I r's tp, fretted m J notched and blacke ed I many another needle point, during many 1. nary day and many a weary night. I V rooking stove, one chair, two beds, a few I >■ hi a shelf in Ihe corner, a broom a large I v.- jlitrlicr, a bonnet and a shawl, a few I >; no furniture, half a dozen plants, B. ngli wooden boxes on the window sill, B .: o- live books ou the one table—these Br iujii, i] t!ie furniture. , I 1; ■ r n was elevated far above the noise i'l jst of the dirty street—above the usual B v pigeons even ; in the fifth story ; I • •r"i in stooping had cut off a corner I ..'ceiling The little low window a pair B • i'.ttd ones—did the best they could with l'inlig!it, but were too much crowded by I iliing roof to accomplish much. I ilsd you slipped uoiselessly in—which you : not have done, in fact, for the sagging ■ loor and its heavy scraping upon the ; I .—you wold have been struck first by H ikreoi'ss, and theu by the singular neat ■' of the attic room. B i black and white kitten would liaTe *iup at voa from a soft bed of cotton '*n corner, or skipped, frightfully, upon '"'mailer bed of the two ; and a still figure *im]nvv wonld have presented only a H 1 '• head, but busy fiugers, and a worn and ifyonr tread had been lieard on the I r ' and mistaken for that of nn old man,! W 're you reached the threshold, you ■ heard a springing step npon the " the door would have scraped open V ;l good natored growl, a pair of black ■ ;;. ,V 0! ! have shown at yon from a face ■ liu .'iniies, and possibly in the shadow , H Un 'c, you might have got a pair of arms j j Jr neck. At any rate yon would have ■ " 11 tai ! little figure into the room, and | H : your seat, would have found yourself with a< expressive and proud a face : 'O ie from voluptuous blush.airy face, i and sparkling diamonds. '. while the tear-drops were falling; ■ , P res ure of thoughts which the heart 1 ■ , possibly hide under its lifting lids, . •' heard upon the stairs, the stair ' "i ak like the stage driver's born, H; of a coming ; the door did a pair of white arras were flung v around the neck of a white haired ■ !,e<?n cryiug of thoughts aroused ■. • walk in a populous street that af- avoided these better thorough ■ * 0 -'he could, hurrying along where narrow aud dingy—where the -i.k and trembling of plumes is ■ n where bright eyes and lair faces t ■ faded and worn surround ■ A a^ernoou her errand to the) H. •" .rough one of those comely streets. I °od upon the very corner of Main j H; ,' w hicb human tide swept, eddy ' 7 uour.-Sbe had seen poverty, com- 1 fort aud wealth—plainness, eomiiness, beau ty—stupidity, sense, intellect. Sitting at her low window in the dull, un seemly room, worn, tired, discouraged with the labors and forebodings of life, Jennie's thoughts could do no less than bring tears. She was thinking of the happiness which floated about he in the crowded streets ; of the laughing eyes ; of the haughty tread ; of faces brimming with careless inerrymeut and conscious beauty. She had seen hun dreds in that one street—hundreds of maidens to whom she was consciously superior. And this was not egotism it the weeping girl. Does the doe imagine itself a snail, or the eagle fan cy itself a blue jay ? Was it wrong that all this beauty, all this innate refinement, a'l this spirite, and tast, and mentality,should pine and and starve for want of that appreciation for which we all pine and strive ? And if Jeuny wept that her scant aud faded calico had drawn forth sneers, as though it were herself and not the accident of covering ; and if she wept that simple tniQded and uarrow-thonghted girls carried themselves proudly, and won attention, while she slipped tne&uly into by-ways, aud shrunk from the observation which was ouly cold und contemptuous, cau we blame her ? She was a woman with a woman's beauty and womau's power. Bnlalass! Jennie was caged by circumstauces, her jewels covered hy the dust of labor, her young life hidded, and dull, aud sad. Besides, au incident at the store had wound ed her severely, aud re awakened her concious ness of weakness and semi-degredation. It WAS this : She had taken a bundle of work to the inspecting chrk, and thence had been di rected to the cashier with a ticket for her pay. Ou former occasions she had suffered from curious and wicked glances while passing tho clerks of several departments, as well as from the peculiar tone in which the cashier ad dressed her. To-day she was either more painfully seusitive or the glances of admiration were more disgustingly prominent ; and the cashier, after fumbling as long as possible, handed her the silver she had earned, with a careless but insulting remark. Jennie flushed with indignation, threw the money upon the counter, and curiiug her lip with scorn, left the de.-k. A hand touched her arui, and a kind voice said : " Wait a moment, Miss Dell," in so assured and commanding away, that she involuntarily paused. The gentleman stepped up to the cashier, strmk him a smart blow on the side of his face with the pelm of his band, tipping him over, took the vacated stool at his desk, and by the time the fellow had picked himself up had balanced bis account and was ready for him with the residue of his wages. Then leading the telioiv to the door by the arm kicked him into the street. All this was done so cooly, with so much ease an j gentlemanly decision, that Jennie could take uo exception to even the last act of the drama. " My store will be safe to you in future, Miss Dell, but I will noi put you to the in convenier.c of bringing your work. I will send a boy for it, and directing a lad to take the la ly's bundle, Mr Brewer bowed Jennie out of i lie store before she had tinu- to cry or do anything more than to thank him with a glance which, breaking from her late indignation, was a curious intermingling of pride aud graitude. The incident had recalled for t' i e hundredth tiuie a terrible consciousness of her unprotect ed situation, nnd she felt more keenly than ev er the utter helplessness of poverty. Sometimes the blood of a proud aucestry dashed to ber cheeks and thobbed to ber temples ; but the next moment woman's tearse chased each other flow i her cheeks. "lam so glad you have come, father. I have been so very lonely and then I was fear ful something had happened," The old man bent a little to kiss the eyes of his daughter—kissing the eyes was the emphasis of his affection—and his lips were moistened by a tear which Jenuie unwittingly had left there in the haste of brushiug them away to meet his coming step. " What is this daughter ? Crying, my child ? You are not sick, dear f Why, I thought mv brave girl never cried, however dark the day might be and, with a hand on each shoulder, the white haired man held the bright-faced daughter at arm's length before him, gazing loving inquiries into her eyes. Not a trace of sadness was in the beaming face of the daughter now ; so, after meeting his gaze laughingly a moment, Jennie slipped to bis side, leaned close to his shoulder, clasp ing his arm in her hand, and said— "Oil, nothing of any moment, father. We women have little foolish tho'ts anil troubles of onr own when we are left alone all day.— Hut when father comes back Again Jennie is happy enough, isn't she?'' and the girl looked into his face with so much of beauty, and smile, and joy, that the old man forgot the dewdrop which had dried oo his lips,and went to wonder ing what made his danghter so happy, alone and hard at work in that sombre room all day. The father forgot the sadness the sooner for a jewel of good things which he was holding tight in bis heart, longing to give it to his daughter, but wondering which was the most perfect way to show it. Whether to raise the lid, and permit the Koh-i-noor the flash with its diamond lightn ing full in her face at ouee, or to lift the lid gentle so that the loved one's eye might catch the brilliance, ray by ray and beam by beam. While the danghter was making the tea kettle cover dance, and then ponring spattering hot water into the little black teapot, in the bot tom of which very few but very nice little leaves lay curled in fragrant exclasivencss and concentration, the glad father thought the matter over. While the torpid little leaves warmed into inevitable expansion by the heated flood, the glad father continued to think it over. " You look tired father; have you worked hard today?" " Not very, daughter." " Why, you are pale, father ; you are sick I know." It is well that the girl dropped the plate from her baud, though it went dowu w*th a PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. crackle into fragments, for the old man was reeling ont of his chair. She was jnst in time to save him. Without a word, the daughter held Irtn a moment, till she could glance into bis face, aud then with a strength which she could always command when aroused, bore him to the nearest bed and laid him there. " Father! Father!" Not a wcrd nor sigh of consciousness. Jen nie rubbed his temples with water, rubbed his arms, his chest, called on him, kissed him and wept. His lips move. " What is it, father?" and the daughter's ear is close by the trembling lips. " I have heard"—faintly—" from—Robert" —fainter. "Robert is—he is"—the voice is too faint to be heard—the lips cease to move —the old man is dead. No cries of "Father, dear father!" no chafiing of hands, no bathiug of that calm, snow-fringed brow will over bring back the soul uow freed at last from its cheer less imprisonment of eighty years. Straighten the stiffening limbs, lone daugh ter ; closo tighter the eyelids ; he is gone. And the secret hidden in that unfinished sen tence—it, too, is gone, and vainly will you try to fathom its import. The blow was a terri ble one. Not alone that this was her stay and companion, but her only support and her ouly friend. She was alone. Alone. \\ hen all hope of restoration was gone, Jennie stood erect a little way from the bed, ber head baried in her hands, and let the tide of loss and loneliness sweep over her. In that instant she drank the fall enp and tasted each and every ingredient. This made her calm. Another nature might have sunk ; she was lifted, strengthened. All the energies of her heart came into active life ; and now, tearful or quiet, busy or still, she was the same stroug, self conscious woman she hud ever been. She was even stronger aud more calm. A quick step upon the stairs and a careless rap at the door. It WdS the bright-faced boy iviiu a bundle. " Mr. Brewer says as how this is nicer work, and you may send back the other bun dle," said the little fellow, boy like, as became abruptly into the room, his face beaming with pleasure and exercise. "Oh, Miss Dell!"and the boy fell into awe-stricken quiet as he felt the presence of death. The second day before the burial, when with tho aid of an old woman below, the body bad been carefully prepared, a different step was heard upon the staircase and a careful knock at the door. Mr. Brewer entered with out a word gave his hand, aud sat down. Then gently alludiug to her loss, asked to look ou the features of her father, noticing her plants in the window, he skilfully led the con versation into appropriate channels, and with out a single profession, made Jennie to feel that he was a true and appreciative friend. Gradually tlie talk receded from the sad top ic s of the chamber of death to more general subjects—to such thoughts as we find written iu books, and such conclusions as we reach in long meditations and careful analyzing. In thi-, her visitor was struck with the clearness and stretch of forethought of the humble girl at his side. And she found herself roused and quickened by the outdrawings of a superior but congenial miud. Thence tlie conversation wa3 brought gent ly to personal affairs, where, at length, a point was gained, at which Mr. Brewer ven tured to ask : " Have you no other friend but this ?" " None iu all the world, except, perhaps, a brother." Mr Brewer could scarcely ask a further question. Bnaking the silence, Jennie snid : i "My younger brother left is throe years i o£to —he wus only fifteen then -in the rush to ; California ; thinking that, tbcagh only a boy, be might bring back gold enough to make his father comfortable for life. We heard of his arrival and a promising beginning, but noth ing since. Two years ago we came to live at this end of the city, and possibly at that time |he changed his location. At any rate his let ters have never reached us, nor have onrs reached him. The other day, when father came home, he had received lidings from him, for he said so jnst as he was dying ; hut the news itself died on his lips, and I have no clue whatever to its nature. Brother Robert was a noble boy, sir—the bravest and the best boy I ever knew." Just here the tears would start, and a long silence followed. Mr. Brewer had brought a purse with a lit tle gold in it, thinking to slip it into the hands of the girl whose trials had so tonched his sympathy ; but when he arose to go the act seemed impossible ; he did not dare to do it ; he could only ask, with the deepest respect. " Can I be of any service to you ?" " 1 thank yon very much for your call, Mr. Brewer—very much. There is ouly one think you can do for me—employ me, if my work pleases you." No need to follow the plain board coffin— rough casket for such a father—to its place among the silent poor in the great cemetry. If the faded shawl clung close to the poor girl's form, chilled by the autumn wiud, drip ping tears upon the turf alone by the poor man's grave under it beat as warm a daugh ter's heart, and lived as rich a woman's nature as ever moved gay aud proud in choicer aud happier scenes Jennie could not and would not leave the dear old room, hallowed now by the memory of a saiutcd father. She lived there alone.— There was no objection to it now, for only a yoong and elastic tread waked the creakings iu the long flight of old stairs. The bright faced boy came and went eve ry day with a bundle. The work was very nice, and the pay was so much better as to give a new chiniz of deep brown with a liny white figure. Mr. Brewer came occasionally He slid quietly into the place of a friend,brought books for Jennie to read, and then discussed their contents with her. There were many [joints npon which they differed. Both liked very well to differ ; for Jenuie found pleasure in arou-iug bis deep earnest strength of expression, aud h° was " REGARDLESS OP DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." i Alas for the struggling, tossed, brave and i weary girl 1 These visits, so comforting at first, were coming to be a source of pain—in fact especially in prospect. Ho came aud went as a kind, disinterested friend, always considerate and appreciative, but always self-poised. Knowing und trusting him as a true friend, she yet knew nothing of j the man but what she saw in her own home. He never talked of himself. The lad who came and went with the bundles had once or twice spoken of " father," in a manner that convinc ed her that Mr. Brewer was a husband, and this his son. That was all ! but it was decis ive. Aud yet, thouch settled on this from the first, as time wore on, the compauioDship and sympathy of her oue visitor grew iuto a need, aud theu a necessity. No reasonings, no wil ful checkings, uo condemnation even, could stay the growth of that giaut presence by which at last she was covered and overpower ed. In vaiu Jennie flashed indignation on her self, that sho loved the love of another wo man's heart—a husband and father. Iu vain j she wept and struggled and prayed. The chain ; grew tighter, holding her to a misery to which ' all the sadness of her life bore no comparison. * * * * * The afternoon snn of a September Sabbath wrapped iu a cherry light the dark and sea washed hull of au ocean steamer coming up the bay to the crowded pier. At the same moment Jennie's friend turned djwn a dull, dark street, entered a doorway and ascended the creaking stairs. It was one of the brick houses with their smoke and smok ing chimneys, lay the always changing picture of the bay. To-day, after a long discussion of the beau ties and the blemishes, first of " The Old Cu riosity Shop," aud theu of DeQuincey's Confes sions, with other and miuor talk, Jennie touch ed ou the scenery of the bay, with its white wingtd butterflies and the black beetle that, an hour or two before, had beeu crawling up the harbor. " I always think," she said, " when I look upon the harbor, that perhaps some day it will bring my brave brother back to mo and then I shall not be alone, uor unhappy, nor tired any uioie. Oh 1 it I could ouly know wheth er he is living or dead—whether I shall ever have him again I" The tears would come, and her eyes were nil glistening as she looked iuto tho face of her friend. Mr. Brewer seemed absent, yet present— tender, yet ill at ease. The thought darted into her mind, " perhaps he knows more of my brother than I—" " Have I ever told you anything of myself?" he answered at length. '' Never." L pon this he moved a chair closo beside her, but so as not to meet her glance, and told the story of his life down to the present hour. It was told concisely ; but all the prominent facts were there. Then changing his place, taking her hand and looking iuto her eyes, he brought tears to them again, and blushes to her lace, by the qucstiou : " Will you trust mo aud love me Jennie whispered—she could uot find her voice. Will I ? I always have." When they had both lound words for other sentences, and Jennie had been talking, Mr. Brewer exelaimed : " Married 1 I never even loved before." A slow step was beard on the staircase, a gentle rap at the door, und a pale young man entered. " Jennie 1" " Robert 1" Aud the maiden had another joy added to the sweetest bliss of life. But Robert had come home to die—as the • day dies, slowly receding to the other side of , life. But had brought the gold which he had spent his young life iu earning for the two at j home. Oue had no need of gold now ; the other had no wish for it ; but the dust wa3 her's ; and when the weeks had gone in which they had sweetened his receding life with the breath of love, leaving him at last where flow ers grown upon live stalks, and chains and clus ters cut in snow marble made his last home beautiful, it flowed from her own and her bus- 1 band's hands in channels which gladdened many a poor girl's life, and made the sister and her other noble self happier for the joy of thus ; making his lost life bloom in many a relighted eye and rekindled cheek. A Vermont broom pedler lately agreed with a Frovidenco merchant to sell him a load of brooms, the payment to be made half in cash and half in goods from the Providence man's store at cost price. The brooms were brought in, and the cash for half of them paid over. " Now what will you have for the re mainder of your bill ?" asked the merchant.— " You Providence fellers are cute," was the slow reply ; " yoa sell at cost, pretty uiuch all of you, and make money ; I don't see how it is done. N'ow, I don't know about your goods—hat one article ; so, seein' as 'twont, make any odds with you, I guess I'll take j brooms. I kuow them like a book, and can ! swear to just what you paid for 'em 1" And so 6aying, the pedlar re loaded his brooms' jumped on his cart with a regular Vermont griu, and drove off. im Of little human flowers, death gathers many. He places them upon his bosom, and I he is transformed into something less terrific than before. We learn to gaze and shudder not, for he carries in his arms the sweet bios- ! som of our early hopes. 63?" Trust not to appearances ; they are tbc veriest asses that hide their ears most. never weary of awakening that flash of her large brown eyes and easy dignity to talic which served to distinguish her from all other of his friends Mr. Brewer's calls were not frequent, but they never failed during the many months in which she set and sewed in the humble attic room. JENA AND ATTERSTADT. BY JOHN S. C. ABDOTT. In the year ISOC England, Russia and Prus sia formed a new coaiitiou against France.— Prussia commenced the campaign, hy invading Saxony with au army of 200,000 men, under the command of Frederic William, the Prus sian king. Alexander of Russia, with an equal army, was pressing down through the wilds of Poland, to unite in the march upon Paris. England co-operated with her invinci ble "fleet, and ,with profuse expenditures from her inexhaustible treasury. The Emperor was greatly annoyed by this unprovoked attack, which thwarted all his pluus for developing the industrial resouroes of France. He 6fcut himself up for forty eight hours to arrange the details of the campaign, and immediately dictated two hundred letters, all of which still remain the monument of his energy and sagacity. In six days the whole imperial guard was transported from Paris to the Rhine. They traveled by post sixty miles a day. On the 24th of September Napoleon, at midnight, entered his carriage at the Tuile ries, to join the army. His parting words to the Senate were : "In so just a war, which we have Dot pro voked by any act, by any pretence, the true cause of which it would be impossible to assign aud where we only take arms to defend our selves, we defend eutirely upon the support of the laws, aud upon that of the people, whom circumstances call upon to give fresh proofs of their devotion nnd courage." Placing himself at the bead of Ids army, by a series of skilful maua-ovres he threw his whole force into the rear of the Prussians, cut ting thorn off from their supplies, and from all possibility of retreat. Being thus sure of vic tory, ho wrote as follows to the King af Prus sia : " SIRE, MY BROTHER— I am in the heart of Saxony. My strength is such that your forc es cannot balance the victory. But why shed so much blood ? why make our subjects slay each other ? Ido uot prize victory purchased by the lives of so many of rav children. If I were just commencing my military career, aud if I had any reason to fear the chances of war, this language would be w holly misplaced. Sire, your majesty will be vanquished. At preseut you are uuinjured, and may treat with me in a manner, conformable with your rank. Before a month is passed, yon will treat in a different position. lam aware that in thus writing I may irritato that sensibility which naturally belongs to every sovereign. But circumstan ces demand that 1 should use no concealment. I implore yonr majesty to view, in this letter, nothing but the desire I have to snare the ef fusion of human blood. Sire, my brother, I pray God that He may have you in His wor thy and holy keeping." To this letter no reply was returned. In two days from this time the advance guard of the French met the Prussians, strongly en trenched upon the p'aics of Jena and Auerst adt. It was the evening of the 13th of Octo ber. The sun was just sinking with unusual brilliancy behind the western hills, when the proud array of the Prussians, more than ona hundred thousand strong, appeared in sight. Three hundred pieces of artillery were concen trated iu batteries, and a squadron of eighteen thousand cavalry, splendidly caparisoned and with burnished armor were drawn up upou the plain. Napoleon immediately took possession of the Landgrafenbcrg, a steep, craggy hill, which the Prussians had supposed inaccessible to artillery, aud from whoso summit the long lines of the Prussians, extending maiiy leagues, conld be clearly discerned. As the gloom of night settled down, the blaze of the Prussian camp fires, extending over a space of eighteen miles, illumined the scene with aimost an on earthly glow. Couriers were dispatched to hasten on the battalions of the French army. To enconragc the men. Napoleon, with his own hands, labor ed through the night in blasting tbc rocks and cleariug the way that he might plant a battery upou the brow of the Landgrafenbcrg- As brigade after brigade arrived, they took the positions assigned them by their experienced chieftain. Soult and Ney were ordered to march all night to a distant point, to cut off the retreat of the foe. Towards morning Na poleon threw himself npou the ground on the bleak hill side, to share for en hour the frigid bivouac of the soldiers. At four o'clock he was again on horseback A dense fog covered the plain, shrouding the sleeping host. Under cover of this darkness Napoleon ranged his troops in battle array.— Enthusiastic 6houts greeted him as he rode along the lines. At 6 o'clock, the fog still un broken, the order was given to pierce the Prus sian lines iu every direction. For eight honrs the battle raged with fary never before or since surpassed. The ground was covered with dead; the shrieks of the wounded, trampled beneath the hoofs of charging squadrons, rose above the thunder of the battle. About I o'clock, P. M., the Prussian Gcueral sent the following frantic dispatch to his reserve : " Lose not a moment in advancing yoar vet unbroken troops. Arrange your columns" so that through their openings there may pass the still unbroken bauds of the battle. Be readv to receive the charges of the enemy's cavalry, which, in the most furious manner, rides on overwhelms aud sabres the Jfogitives, aud has driven into one confused mass the infantry, ar tillery and cavalry." The Prussian reserve, twenty thousand strong, with unbroken front now entered the field, and lor a moment seemed to arrest the tide of victory. Napoleon stood at the head of the Impeiral Guard, which he had htlj in reserve as hour after hour he had watched and guided the terrible fight. A young soldier,im patient of this delay, at last, iu the excess of his excitement, shouted, 'Forward 1 Forward 1' Napoleon turned sternly to him and said : " How now 1 What beardless boy is this, who ventores to counsel his Emperor. Let him wait till he has coinmauded in thirty pitch ed battles before he proffers his advice."' It wa3 uow four o'clock. The decesive mo VOL. XXII. —NO. 20. menta had arrived. Murat a the head of twelve thousand horsemen, fresh, and imper fect array, swept down upon the plain, as with earthquakes roar, chargiog the bewildered, exhausted, bleeding host, and, in a few mo ments the work was done ; the Prussian ar my was destroyed. Like an innnndation the fugitives rushed from the field, ploughed by batteries of Mapoleou, and trampled beneath the tread of his resistless cavalry. While this scene was transpiring on the plains of Sena, another divisiou of the Prus sian army was encountering a similar disaster on the held of Auerstadit, twelve stiles dis tant. As the fugitives of both armies were driven together in their flight, In confusion and dismay unparalelled, horsemen, foolruen, wag ons and artillery In deusest und wildest entan glement,there was raiued down upon them the most terrible storm of bails, bullets and shells. Night came at length. l>ut it brought no relief to the van quisled. The pitiless pursuit was uninterrupted. In whatever direction the shattered columns fled, they were met by the troops which Napoleou had sent anticipa ting the movement. The king himseif nar rowly escaped capture during the rout of that night. Accompanied by a few companions on horseback, he leaped hedges and fences, and plunged through forrests and fields, until ho j reached a place of safety. The l'rusians lost I in this one disastrous tight twenty thousand i killed and wouuded, while twenty thousand more were tuken prisoners. No military chieftain has ever manifested so much skill in following np a victory as Na poleoD. In less than fourteen days every rem nants of the Prussian army was taken, and ail the fortresses of Prussia were in the hands of the French. The king, a woestricken fugitive j dtiven Irom his realms, fled for refuge to the army of Alexander. Never before in the his tory of the world was so formidably a power j so speedily and utterly annihilated, j But one month had now elapsed since Na poleou left Paris. An army of two hundred thousand men, in thorough disipline and drill, had, in that time, been either killed, taken prisouers, or dispersed. Not a hostile regi ment remained. A large number of fortresses, strengthened by the labor of ages, and which had been deemed impregnable, had fallen into ; the hands of the victor, and he was reposing in security in Berlin, in the place of Fredrick the Great. The story of this wonderful ! achievement passed over Europe like the won ' ders of the Arabian tale, exciting uuiversal amazement. "In nssailing this man," said the Emperor Alexander, " we are but children at tacking a giaut. 1 ' PAKTIXOTOJJXAN.—" What are yoa going to do, you bad woman's boy !" said Mrs. Parting ton, as Ike passed through the kitchen into the garden. " Down with the seceshersl" he shonted.and she looked out just in season to see the top of a beautiful plant fall before the artillery sword of Paul that the youngster held in his hand. I " You'd better go to Molasses Jugtion if ' you want to do that," she said, restraining bis hand us it wos lifted against her fuschia,ready to decapitate the plant that she had watched with almost a mother's care for three winters. " Dear me 1" she murmured half to herself, "what a terrible thing war is when even the ; children show snch signs of eoDsangninity, and brother is pitied against brother. I can't bear to think ot it. Isaac, dear, go down and hny me an extradition of the paper." Ike depart ed with half a dime, and from the fact that no change came back, Mrs. Partington supposed the price was raised. Mas. SWISSHELM ox BABIES.— Mrs. Swiss helm does not ecem to like the way in which mothers now a days bring up their babies. In an article on the subject, in which there Is more truth than poetry, she says : " A majority of babies are to their mothers what a doll is to a little girl—something to dress—a means of displaying odds and ends of finery, exhibiting one's tastes. If infants were treated ou the plan npoa which a farmer treats lambs, goslings, chickens, pigs, Ac., viz: well fed and kept warm, they would live and grow ; aud we never knew one to die. Dutch babies wear caps, and bow could any lady of taste have her baby look like the Dutch ? Just so ; aud the Dutch babies live, laugh and grow fat, for they arc 'smothered in flannel'and feathers, and kept all iu 'a sweat.' Dutch mothers do not keep their babies for model artists exhibitions. They cover them np, keep them warm and quiet,and raise a wonder ful number of sturdy boys and gfds. WARI.IKS Wrr.—Why are the Seceding States like the plagnes of Egypt ? Bccausu seven went out, and " they were exeeedio*g grievous to be borne with." The insurgents proteßt that they won't pay their debts to the people of the United States and yet the United States troops are deter mined to draw npon them at sight 1 A Chicago paper gravely remirk3 that 'the longer the present war lasts, the more public opinion begins to settle down in the belief that it will be a short one." The editor is quite firm in this belief. Why is a sailor's sword like a girl discarded by her beau ? Because it's a cat-lass. Price to be marked down—Price of Missou ri. Expected fight between Cruisers. The Span ish cruisers are abont to pitch into the Vera Crnzers. The reason given by Garabaldi for declining to play a part in our great war drama is, that he is engaged to act the principal character lei " Venice Preserved.'* llow EVENTS Kcsn ON !— The Rebellion is uot a year old and yet what a page has been added to the World a history ! A Republic of thirty millions of souls plunged into Ciril War : eleven States revolted from the Fed eral Union, with three others trembling in the balance ; seven hundred thoasand soldiers in the field ; and a fleet larger than the Span ish Armaria swooping down npon the Southern Coast. Truly men grow old rapidly iu su< U times as these.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers