£ 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.