M E MUM PHR ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA:
nonday Morntos, February 6, 1862.
itlttiA lbf.
THE PICKET GUARD.
.. All quiet along the Potomac." they atj,
•• Except, now and then,a tra> pu
b
Bv i rifleman hid in the thicket.
*Ti nothing— private or two, then,
Will not connt in the new? o. • •
, . . />nlv one of the men
jll quiet alonjrthe Potomac to-night.
Where the wldiers lie peacefully dreaming :
The tents, in therav* of the clear autumn moon.
Or the licht of the watch tires are g'earum*.
A tremulous sign, as the ,-eutie night wind
Trough the forest leaves softly is creeping ;
Whi e -tars up above, with their glittering e yes,
Keep guard—for the army is sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone seutr.v's tread.
he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And think of the two in the lone trundle bed,
Far away iu the cot on the mountain.
Hi- mu-ket falls slack -his face, dark aud grim,
Giows geutle with memories leader,
A? he mutters a prayer for the children asleep—
For their mother—may Heaven defend her !
The moon seems to shine just as bright, y as then,
That night, when the Iwe. yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips-when low murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
lie dashes ofT tears that are welling.
And fathers his gun close op to its place,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
He passed the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
The f - tsteps is lagging and weary ;
Yet onward he p>es. through the broad belt of light.
Towards the shades vf the forest so dreary.
Hark ! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves ?
Was it moonlight so wondMU-Iy flashing ?
It I -eked like a ride—" Hi ! Mary, go,, J bye •*
And the liie blood is ebbing aud plishing.
AHtjoiet aloer the Potorc.se to-night.
No s. ;i:id save the of the rivet :
Whiitioft fall- the dew on the face of the dead—
The picket's oT duty forever 1
■t -
Stlttltk Cult.
(Frcra the Cornbill Magazine.)
TO ESTHER.
The first t : me that I ever kiKw yon, sr,s at
Rimeoi.e Winter's evening I had walked
through the siient streets —I see them now—
| bark with blink shadows, lighted by the biuz
ir.g stars overhead and by the lamps dimly
flickering before the shrines at street corners.
After crossing .he Spanish-; ace I r member
turning into a narrow allcv and coining pres
ently to a great black archway, which hd to
a glimmering court. A figure of the Y .rgiu
Mood with outstretched urtns above the door
of your bouse, aud the light burning at her
feet dimly played npon the stone, worn and
stained, of which the walls were bull
Thnagh the archway came a giiuq of lite
right skv above the court yard, shining won
tkrfully with splendids.ars ; a>.d I a -oc.iugut
ike [4a shine eonnd of a fountain fl wii-g :n the
d*rkue>? I groped my way op the broad stone
s'.i'.rcxse, only lighted by the friendly star
si •„<, enabling and knocking my -bins against
those Ancient steps, up which two centuries of
v i w nnen had clambered ; and, at 1 .st,
r g ;:g st a curtail.door, I found myself iu
sa i, a d presently nShered through a d i.i* g
r.OE where the cloth was laid,arid announced
k tiie i-awi.. room door as Sa.itii.
It was a long room with many windows,and
■st.aeis and tables along the wall, with a tail
arvtd mant I piece, a; which you were stand
sg. and a Pompeian amp burning on a table
tod. Would you care toh-ar what tnau
*rof woman I saw ; what impression I got
t". you as we met for the first time together ? j
•i after days, light, mood, circumstance, may •
■•city this first image more or less, ba: the
w® of i.fe is in it—the identical presence—
I fancy it is rarely improved by keeping,
"J ptict.ng np, with love, or dislike, or long
* weariness, as the case may be Be this
b it say. I think I knew you as well after the
, ' minutes'acquaintance as Ido now.—
- sis xa woman, whose looks I liked
[ ; thick brows, sallow fa r. a taii and
> sgure, honest eyes that had no
twrt taUr uirr.t besides, dark hair.and a pleas
<33;j e And somehow, as I looked
*• tea and heard you talk, 1 seemed to be
°>'* frank spirit, uncertain, blind, way- j
tender, under this somewhat stern ei
•* so, I repeat, I liked you, and mak- j
1 I said 1 was afraid I was before
•J time. j
1 ® i:ra m J father who is after his,"
Jt-ja . •• >i r Halbert is corning, and he,
, kC 3 0 "en ate and so we went on taikiug
••• tea minutes.
1 :s a kindly manner, and a sad-toned
_-- - w Lot if your life has been a hap
j7 : ton are well disposed toward every
tv • ; ' Q c>ae acro<B ' 7°° ' to he loted.
- 7 with a sweet artless art to win and
;-*ia ever each man or woman that you meet.
• f4w that you liked me, that TOO felt at yoar
* th a?, that you held me not quite your
*tw c; eh; perhaps laugh as, as well as
-2e B a t | no t care My aim ia life,
kaows, has not heeo to domineer, to
, * otwn the law, and triumph over others,
tv7 t!1 <yrrT tho<? 1 ,;ke
lie Co.owJ arri*ed presently.w.th his white
t J- htaahad aud his wnite neckcloth
t* ' " He greeted me with great frieod-
aao cordiality. You haTegot his charm
; but with yon. my dear it is not
oaly, f ar thsrr is loyalty and heirti
amg m yoar face, and sincerity ringing
;<>te ° f 00r To,< *- yon must
aitriievi from your mot her, if thiegs
-*a taheritanee. As for the Colonel, your
• *• I uptake not, he is a liuk, ?nr.veied
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
up, old gentleman, with a machiue iuside to
keep him goinsr, and outside a weil-cut coat
and a air, aud knowledge of the
world, to get on through life with. Not a
very large capital to go upon. However, this
is not the way to speak to a young lady about
her father ; and, besides, it is you, aud not he,
in whom i take ike interest that prompts
these maudlin pages.
Mr. Halbert and little Latham, the artist,
were the only other guests. You did not look
round when Halbert was announced, but went
on speakiug to Latham, with a strange flush
in your face ; until Halbert had, with great
empressement, made his way through the chairs
and tables, aud had greeted, rather than been
greeted by you, as 1 and Latham were.
So thii.ks I to myself, concerning certain
vague uotious I had begau to eutertaiu, 1 am
rather late iu the field, aud the city is taken
aud has already hoisted the conqueror's colors.
Perhaps those red flags might have been mine
had 1 come a little soouer ; who kuows ? " Dt
tout laurier in poison est Pesse nee," says the
Frenchmau ; and my brows may be as well
un wreathed.
44 1 came up stairs with the dinner," Mr.
Halbert was sayiug. "It reassured me as to
my punctuality. 1 rather pique myself on my
punctuality, Colonel."
" And I'm afraid I have been accusing you
of being always late," you said, " as it it were
a confession."
'• Have you thought so, Miss Oliver?" cried
Haibert.
" Dinner, sir," said Baker, opening the door.
All dinner-time Halbert, who litis very high
spirits, talked and laughed without ceasing
You, too, laughed, listened, looked very hap
py, and got up with a smile at last, leaving
us to drink our wine. The colouel preseuily
proposed e gars.
'• In that case I shall go and taik to your
daughter iu the drawing-room," Halbert said.
" I'm promised. to Lad? Packer's to night ; it
would never do to go there smelling all over
of smoke. I must he off in hail an uour," he
added, looking at Lis watch.
I, too, had been asked,and was rather sur
prised that he should be iu such a desperate
hurry to get there. Talking to Miss Oliver
in the next room,l could very welt understand;
' but leaving ber to rush off to Lady Paiker's
immediately, did not accord with the little
theories 1 had been laying down. Could I
have been mistaken ? In this case it seemed
to me this would be the very woman to suit
me—(you see I am speaking without any re
serve, and simply describing the abrupt lit le
events as they occurred) —and I thought, w ho
knows that there may uot be a chance for me
yet ? l>ut, by the time my cigar had crumb
led into smoke acid ashes, it struck me that my
little cattle Lad also wreathed away and van
ished. Going into the drawing room, where
the iamps were swinging iu the dimness, and
the night without streaming in through the
ut -uruined windows, we found yon in your
white dre.-s, sitting aloue at one of tbenr. Mr.
lla'ibert was gone, you said ; he went by the
other door. And then yon were silent again,
staring out at the stars with dreamy eyes
The Cohmel rang for tea. and chirped away
verv pleasantly to Latham by the lire. 1
looked at you cow uud then, and could not
! help su pri.-ing your thoughts somehow, and
know no that 1 had not been mistaken alter
all There you sat. making > tuple schemes of
future happiness ; you eoul.i not, would cot.
ICh k beyo: J the present. You were verv calm,
happy, full of peaceful reiianee. Your world
was alight with shining stars, great \ g shining
mtteors, ail flaring up as they usmuiy do be
fure going out with a splatter at the end o
j the entertainmeut People who ere iu love 1
hare always found very much siike ; and now.
having settled that you belonged to that
j crack-braced community, it was notii fS ait to
| guess at what was going on in your mind,
j 1, too, as I have said, had bceu favored
j with a card for Lady Parker's rout : and as
you w,re so absent and ill inclined to talk,and
the colonel was anxious to go off aud play
whist at his club, I thought I might as weil
I follow in Haibert's traces, and gratify any
little curiosity I might feel as to his behavior
and way of going on in your absence. I
found that Latham was alsogoingto her lady
ship's. As we went down stairs together
Latham said, " It was too bad of Halbert to
break up the party and go off at that absurd
hour. I didn't say I was going, becaose,!
thought Lis rudeness might strike them."'
" I>ut sorely," said I, " Mr. Halbert seems
at home thee, and may come and go
as he likes." Latham shrugged his
shoulders. " I like the girl ; I hope she is
uot taken in by him. He has been very thick
all the Winter in other quarters. Lady Park
er's niece, Lady Fanny Farsham, was goiug to
marry him, they said ; but I know very littie
of him. He is much too great a swell to be
on intimate terms with a disreputable little
paiuter like myself. What a night it is !' As
he spoke, we came out into the street ajain.
our shadows failing on the stones ; the Virgin j
overhead stiH watching, the lamp burning
faithfully, the solemn eight waniegoo. Lady
Parker had lodgings in the Corso I felt al
most ashamed of stepping from the great en- i
teriaiumeot without into the close, racketing
little tea partv that was clatterc* on within.
We came m, iu the midd.e of a jaugling tune,
the z mpanv spinning roond and round Hal
bert, twirling like a Oerrish. was almost the
first person 1 saw ; he w is flushed, and looked
eieeediug'v handsome, aud his tail shoulders
overtopped most of the other heads. As I ;
watched hull I iboaghi with great complacen
cy that if any woman cared for me, it wou.d
not be for my looks. No ! no ! what are mere
good looks compared to those mcutai qualities
which. Ac, it Preseuily, cot feei.ug quite
easy in nay mind about tbc*e said mental qual
ities, I agaiu observed thai it was still better
to be liked for one's sell than for one's mental
qualities ; by wbieh time I turned my atten
tion once more to Mr. Halbert. The youth
was devoting Lim-eif most assiduously to a
very beautiful, oldish jcung lady, la a green
gaotj dres.; and I now, with a mixture of
satisfactivu uud vexation, recognised the v-.rv
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
same looks and toues which had misled me at
dinner.
I left him still at it and walked home, won
dering at the great law of natural equality
which seems to level all mankind to one stan
dard, notwithstanding all those artificial ones
which we ourselves have raised. Here was a
successful youth, with good looks and good
wits and position and fortune ; and here was 1,
certainly no wonder, insignificant, and plain,
and poor, and of commonplace intelligence, aud
as well satisfied with my own possessions, such
as they were, as he, Halbert, could be with
the treasures a prodigal fortune had showered
upon him. Here was I, judging him, and tak
ing his measure as accurately as he could take
mine, were it worth his while to do so. Here
wis I, walking home under the stars, while
he was flirting and whispering with Lady Fan
ny, aud both our uights sped on. Constella
tions sinking slowly, the day approaching
through the realms of space, hours waniug.life
goiug by for us both alike ; both of us men
waiting together amidst these awful surround
ings.
\ou and I met often after this first meeting
—in churches where tapers were lighting aud
heavy censers swinging—on the Pincio, in the
narrow, deep-colored streets ; it was not al
ways chance only which brought me so con
stantly into your presence. You yourself were
the chance, at least, aud I the blind follower of
fortuue.
All around about Rome there are ancient
gardens lying basking iu the suu. Gardens
and villas built long since by dead cardinals
and popes ; terraces, w ith glinting shadows,
with honeysuckle clambering iu acsu:d' e luxu
r.anee ; roses flowering aud fading aud falling
iu showers iu the pathways ; aud terraces aud
marble steps yellow with age. Lonely foun
tains plash in their basins,statnes of fawns and
slender nymphs stand out against the solemu
hori/.ou of blue hills aud crimsou-streaked sky;
of cypress trees aud cedars, with the sunset
showing through their stems. At home, I
lead a very busy, anxious life ; the beauty aud
peace of these Italian villas fill me with inex
pressible satisfaction aud gratitude toward
those mouldering pouiffs, whose magnificent
liberality has secured *ucb placid resting-places
for generations of weary meu. Taking a long
walk out of II 'me one day,l came to the gates
of one of these gardens. I remember seeing a
carnage waitii g in the shade of some cedar
trees ; hard by, horses with drooping heads,
and servants smoking as they waited. This
was no uncommon sight ; the English are for
ever on their rounds ; but somehow on this
oceasiou, I thought I recognized one of the
men, aud instead of passing by, as had been
my intention, I turned io at the half-opened
gat , which the augels with the flaming swords
had left uugarded and unlocked for ouce, and
after a tew minutes' walk, I came upon the
Eve I looked for.
You were sitting on some time-worn steps ;
you wore a geen silk dress, and your brown
hair, with the red tints iu it, was all ablaze
with the light. Yon lookeu very unhappy, I
thought : got up with au effort, and sunied a
pitiful smile.
" Are you come here for a little quiet ?"
I asked. 44 Inm not going to disturb you,"
" I came here for pleasure, not quiet," you
said, 44 with papa and some friends. I was
tired, so they walked on and left me."
44 That is the way with one's friends," said
I. 44 Who are tbe culpr.ts, Miss Oliver ?"
44 I aui the only euipr.t," you said grimly.—
44 Lady Fanny an i Mr. Ilalbert came witn us
to-day. Look, there they are at the end of
thai alley.
And as you spoke, you raised ODe hand and
pointed, and I made up my mind. It was a
very long alley. The figures in the distance
were ajvanciug very siowlv. When they
reacli ti.at l.ttle temple thougo I, I will tell
her what I think.
This was by nojne3ns so snddeD a determ
ination as it may appear to you, readiag over
these pages. It seems a singular reason to
give ; but I realty think it was your hopeless
fancy for that rosy youth which touched me
and interested me so. I know I used to carry
home sad words, spoken not to me, and giao
ces that thrilled me with love, pity, and sym
pathy. What I said was. as you know, very
simply and to the purpose. I knew quite
we:i your fancy was eisewhere ; mine was
with you, perhaps as hopelessly placed. I
didn't exactly see w hat good this confession
was to do either of us, only there I was, ready
to spend my life at your service.
Waeu I had spoken there was a silent mo
ment, and then you glowed up—your eyes
meatd, your mouth quivered 44 Oh, what
can I say ? Oh, lam so lonely. Ob, I have
not one friend in tbe world ; and now, ?ud
denly. a helping hand i? held oat, and I can't,
I can't push it away. Oh, don't despise. Oh,
forgive ine."
Despise ! scorn ! . . Poor child ! I
only liked yon the more for your plaintive ap
peal : thongh I wendered at it.
" Take yoar time.'' I said, " j can wait.and
I shall not fly away. Call me when you want
me ; send me away when I weary you. Here
is jour father : shall I speak to bim ? Bat no.
Remember there is no single link between c*.
except what von yourseit hold in vour own
hand."'
Here yoar father and Halbert and Lady
Fanny came cp. " Well, Esther, are you rest
ed," says the colonel cheerfully. " Why, how
do you do ,tome ? What have you beenta.k
icg aboat so busily V
You did not answer, but fixed yoar eyes on
your lather's face. 1 said something; I for
get what. Halbert, looking interested, turned
from one to the other. Lady Fanny, who
held a fragrant heap of roses, shook a few pe
tals to the ground, where they lay glowing af
ter we had all walked away.
If you I did not go near von for
a day or two after this. But I wrpte yon a
letter, in which I repeated that you were en
tirely free to nse me as you liked : marry me,
make a friend of me—l was ia yoar hands.—
Oue dav, at lust, I called ; and I shall never
forget the sweetness and friendly gratefulness
with arch you received me. A solitary man,
" REGARDLESS Or DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER."
dying of lonely thirst, you meet me smiling
with a cap of sparkliug water : a weary watch
er through the night—suddeuly I see the dawn
streaking the bright horizon. Those were very
pleasant times. I remember now,one afternoon
in early SpriDg, open windows, sounds coming
in from the city, the droDe of the afifferari
buzzing drowsily in the sultry streets. You
sat at your window in some ligh : colored dress,
laughing now aud then, and talking your ten
der little talk. The colonel, from behind The.
Times, joiued in now and again : the pleasant
half-hour slid by. We were still baskiug
there, when Halbert was announced, and came
in, looking very tall and handsome. The bag
pipes droned on, flies sailed in and out on the
sunshine : you still sat tranquil y at the open
casement ; but somehow the golden atmos
phere of the hour was gone. Your smiles
were gone ; your words were silenced ; and
that happy little hour was gone forever.
When I got up to come away Halbert rose
too ; he came down stairs with me, and sud
denly looking me full iu tbe faco said, " When
is it to be ?"
" You know much more about it than I
do," I answered.
44 You don't mean to say that you are not
very much smitten with Miss Esther ?" said
he.
" Certainly I am," said I. 44 I should be
ready enough to marry her, if that is what
you mean. I daresay I shan't get her. She
is to me the most sympathetic woman I have
ever known. You are too young, Mr. Halbert,
to understand and feel her worth. Dou't be
offended," I added, seciug him flush.up. "You
young fellows cau't be expected to see with
the same eyes as we old ones. \ou will think
as I do in another ten years."
44 How do you mean ?" he asked.
" Isn't it the way with all of us," said I ;
" we begin by liking universally ; as we go
ou we pick aud choose, and weary of things
which had only the charms of novelty to re
commend them ; only as our life narrows we
cling more aud more to the good things which
remain, aud feel their value t;u times more
keenly ? And surely a sweet, houest-hear ed
young woman like Esther OLver is a good
thing.
" She is very nice." Ilalbert said. "She
has such good manners. I have had more ex
perience than you give me credit for, and I am
very much of your way of thinking. Tney say
that the old courtly colonel is dreadfully har?h
to her—wants to marry her, aad get her off
his hands. I assure you, you have a very good
chance."
" 1 mistrust the old Colonel," said I, dicta
she and I chime in tune together and, as I
spoke, I begau to understand why you once
said woefally, that you had not oue friend in
the world ; and my thoughts waudered away
to the garden where 1 had found you waiting
on the steps of the terrace.
" What do you say of the 4 E'.isire d'Amore"
Lady Fanny and I have been performing late
ly r Halbert was saying meanwhile, very
confidentially. 44 Sometimes I cannot help
fancying that the Colonel wants to take a
part in the per.'ormance, and a cract old tenor
part, too. In that case I shall cry off, aud
give up my engagements." And theo, nod
ding good-by. he left me.
1 met him again at tbe Babuioo a day or
two after. He came straight up to me,saying
" Going to the O.ivers, eh ? Will yon take
a message for me, aud tell the coioael I mean
to look :u there this evening. That old fox
the colonel—you Lave heard that be is actual
ly going to marry Lady Fanny. She toid me
so herself yesterday."
" I think her choice is & prudent one," I
answered, somewhat surprised. 44 I suppose
Colonel Oliver is three times as rich as your
self ? You must expect a woman of thirty
to be prudent lam not fond of that virtue
in very young people, but it is not unbecoming
with years."
Haibert flushed ap. " I suppose from that
you mean she was very near marrying me.—
I'm cot sorry she has taken up with the colo
nel after all. Yon see my mother was always
writing, and my sisters at home ; and they
used to tell me . . . and i myself thought
she . you know what I mean. But, of
course, they have been reassured on that
point."
" Do you mean to say," I asked, in a great
panic, " that you would marry any woman
who happened to fail in love with you
" I don't know what I might have done a
year ago," said* he, laughing ; " but jast now,
yon see, I have had a warning, and besides, it
is my turn to make the advances."
I was immensely relieved at this, for I did
not kuow what I was going to say.
Here as we turned a few street corner, we
came upon a black robed mock, standing,
vailed and motionless,with a skull in one hand.
This cheerfal object changed, the enrreot of
our talk, and we parted presently at a foun
tain. Women with black twists of hair were
standing round about, waiting in grand, care
less attitudes, while the limped water flowed.
When I reached yoar doer, I found the
carriage waiting, and you and your father un
der the archway. " Come with us,*' said he,
and I gladly accepted. And so we drove oat
a: one of the gates of the city, oat into the
Campagna, over which melting waves of color
was rolling. Here and there we passed an
cient rains crumbling in the son ; the road
side streamed with color and fragrance from
violet? and anemones and sw:-et-smelling flow
ers. After some time we came sudden y on
some green bills, and leaving the carriage
climed ap the sides. Taeu wc found ourselves
looking down into a green glowing valley,
with an intense heaven above ail meltiosr into
1 ght. You, with a little transient gasp of hap
piness, fell down kneeling in the grass. I
snail always see the picture Ji bad before me
men—the UghUigure against the bright green,
he black hat. and long .falling feather, the
eager face looking out at the world. May it
be forever greeu and pleasant tq you as it was
then, O eager face !
As we were parting iu the twilight, I sud
denly remembered to give Ualberts ok .-sage
It did uot greatly effect your father ; but
hew was i. ? Was it because I knew you so
well that I instinctively guessed you were
moved by it? When I shook hauds with you
a d said good night, your hand trembled in
mine.
" Won't yon look iu, too ?" said the Colo
nel.
But I shook my head " Not to-night—no,
tbaok yon." And so we parted.
My lodgings were in the Gregoriana'; the
windows looked out over gardens and cupolas;
from one of them I could see the Pincio. From
the one next morning, as / sat drinkiDg my
coffee, / suddenly saw you, walking slowly
along by the parapet, with your dog running
by your side. You went to one of those out
lying terraces which flank the road, and lean
ing over the stonc-worb,looked out at the grand
nanorama lying at you feet—Rome, with her
purple mantle of mist, regally spreading, her
tc wers, her domes, and great t>t. Peter's rising
over the house tops, hr seven hills changing
and deepening with Doblest color, her golden
crowu of sunlight streaming aud melting with
the mist. Somehow, I\ too, saw all this pres
ently when /reached thepiace where you were,
still standing.
And now / have almost come to the end
of my story, that is, of those few days cf my
life of which you, Esther, were the story.— j
You stood there waiting, and /hastened to
ward you, and fate (I fancied you were my
Fate) went on its coarse qnite unmoved by my
hopes or your fears. I thought that yoa looked
almost handsome for once. You certainly
seemed more bappy. Your face flashed and
faded, your eyes brightened and darkened.—
As you turned and saw me, a radieut quiver,
a piteous sm le came to greet me strangely—
You seemed trying to speak, but the words
died away on your lips—to keep silence, at
least but the faltering accents broke forth.
"What is it, dear ?" said I, at last, with
a queer sinking of the heart, aad I held out
uiy hand.
You caught it softly between both yours.—
" Oh !" you said, with sparklingjeyea, "I am a
mean, wretched girl—oh ! don't think too ill
of me. He, Mr. Halbert, came too see me
last night, and—aud, he says Oh !
I don't deserve it. Oil! forgive me, for I am
so happy and you burst into tears. "You
have beeu so good to me," you whispered on
" 1 hardly know how good. He only
thought of me when you spoke of me to him.
wheu—when he saw you did not dislike me.—
lam behaving shamefully—ye 3, shamefully,
but it is because I know you are too kind not
to forgive—not to forgive. What can I do?
You know how it has always been. You don't
know what it would be to marry one person,
caring for another. Ah ! vou don't know what
it would be to have it otherwise than as it is"
(this clasping your hands ) " But yoa don't
a ; k it. "Ah 1 forgive me, and say you don't
ask it." Then standing straight and looking
down with a certain sweet dignity, you went
on—" Heaven has sent me a great and unex
pected happiness, but there is, indeed, a bitter,
bitter cup to drink as well. Though I throw
you over, though I behave so selfish'y, don't
think that I am utterly conscienceless, that I
do not suffer a crnel pang indeed : when I
think how you must look at me, when I re
member what return I am making for all your
forbearance and generosity. When I think of
myself I am ashamed and humiliated ; when I
think of him " Here you suddenly broke
off, and turned away your face.
Ah me ! turned away your face forever from
me. The morning mists faded away ; the mid
day sun streamed over hills and towers and
valleys. The bell of the Trinita hard by began
to toll,
I said, " Good-bv, and neaven keep yon, :
my dear. I would not have had you do oth- j
erwise." And so I went back to my lodging. }
teif* Rev. Dr. Butler, of Washington, in a
lecture at Cincinnati a few evenings ago, gave
his audience a few instances of the amiable
disposition of young ladies of secession persua
sion. In Alexandria a gallant young artillery
officer was spit npon by two young ladies, a
few da?s before the battle of Bali Run. He
immediately inquired their names and ascer
tained their residences, and on that same even
ing, with a number of his comrades, serenaded
them for three boors, singing the most senti
mental songs in praise of tue loveliness and
gentienass of women.
Toe second illustration given by Dr. Butler,
was as fo'lowe : In Baltimore a young lady
dropped her handkerchief one day. A Feder
el officer was sufficiently overcharged with et
iquette to pick it up and had it to her. The
dear creature type of the graces that she was
—gave him a side glance, and in dulcet tones
inquired : " Do yoa think I would accept any
thing from an Abolition hireling f'
The third is as good as the above While
a young lady of Baltimore was wai king with
an " air of impunity" alone the streets an of
ficer rubbed against her dress. Displaying a
flexibility of nose worthy the attention of a
physiologist, the Dlxianio beauty muttered the
monosyllable " wretch," and shook her expan
sive skirts as if to remove something Northern
ly offensive. The officer quietly followed her
to her elegant home, rang the door bell, and
called for the gentleman of the boose. To this
gentleman he presented the alternative of an
apology from her or a fight from her husband
if she had such an appendage, i* not her
loTed paternal relative most choo-e ti t wea
pon*. Angelina was called aa d remonstrated
w:tb, and oemg so aJvUed, m^ e the requisite
apology.
®®*" in Northwestern Missouri of
itr- a prem-.aa for enough Yankee scalps to
make a oed quilt.— Wheeling luUliigtnctr.
Perhaps she would like to take a whole
\ ankee as a comforter— Preniice.
Ilvrocaisr.—Many who would not for the
world utter a falsehood, are yet eternal iy
sch?o2ing to produce false impression on the
mind* of others respecting facts, characters,
rod opimoui.
VOL. XXII. —NO. 00.
State of ♦ at Port Royal.
The Loudon ' rs correspondent at Hilton
Head, South Carolina, is responsible for the
following graphic picture of the state of mor
als at Port Royal :
"There are two classes ol slaves in the cot
ton States, a3 in those of t!.e border ; the
Geld hands black in complexion, bewhipped
almost daily, and locked up at night, and the
household servants, the offspring of incestuous
intercourse between masters and good looking
' yellow girls,' who themselves are children of
white men. I have seen a young girl iu Wash
ington, with light brown smooth hair, clear
rosy complexion, and blue eye®, who I was in
formed, was a slave. I bad previously heard
of such cases, but attached small credit to the
reports ; my informant being resolved to sat
isfy my doubts showed me the girl, and we
questioned her as to her history.
"In a perfectly artless manner she told us
she was born in Texas, and that at sixteen
years ol fige her owuer aud father made her
his mistress, brought her to Wa.-hiugtoD, and
lived with her there until the secession of his
.State, when be went South, taking with him,
as Lis new concubine, her young sister, also
his own daughter. The girl seemed surprised
at my astouishmeut and disgust,informing me,
with the greatest ruiirctc,' Why, I belonged
to him !'
" AD officer of the Wabash told me the day
after the victory at Hilton Head that, going
ashore with a boat's ere* that morning oa St.
Helena Island, he ran agaist a number of
slaves of the household class ; a few*questions
satisfied him they belonged to one of the rich
est planters in those parts. Amonjr tbem was
a handsome looking, olive-comp'exicned girl,
who lamented to him that her baby had been
carried off by the family after the battle.—
4 Yaas, Massa,' said one of the male slaves,
1 and it is Massa George's baby, too and the
girl showed by her maouer how rnach she wag
pleased at the fact being made known to the
strangers.
44 It is the fashion with defenders of slavery
to aseume that morality is much higher iu their
section of country than in a free state of soci
ety, but such as the above between mastera
and slaves has no parallel among the most de
grading vices iu any civilized country.
SWEARING FOR A FAMILY. — Rev. R. S. Mac
lay, for thirteen years a missionary in China
has written a book ia which be relates the fol
lowing anecdote :
Daring one of oar examinations of candi
dates for baptism at Ngukang, I observed that
one woman and some three or four young peo
ple had the same surname. The circumstance
led to the following conversation between my
self and one of the young men :
44 1 observe that you all have the same sur
name. Are you members of the same family?''
I inquired.
44 Yes," one replied, 44 this is my mother and
these are my brothers."
44 Where is your father T I continued.
44 He is at home attending to his business."
44 Does he approve of your embracing Chris
tianity r'
44 Yes, he is entirely willing"
44 Why does not your father himself become
a Christian ?"
44 He says it would not answer for all the
family to embrace Christianity."
44 And why ?" I asked with some curiosity,
" does he thik so V
44 He says if we all become Christians oar
heathen neighbors will take advantage of that
circumstance to impose upon as."
44 How will they do that V I inquired.
44 Christians are not allowed to swear or
fight, and father says that when our wicked
neighbors ascertain we have embraced Chris
tianitb, they will proceed at once to curse and
maltreat us. Hence, father says to us, 44 Yon
may all become Christians, but I ma3t remain
a heathen, so as to retaliate upon our bad
neighbors. You can go to meeting and wor
ship, but I must stay at home to da the curs
ing and fighting for the family."
Tar MOTHER.— Dispise R. o t t hj mother when
she is old. Age may wear and waste a moth
er's beauty, strength,' limbs and estate ; but
her relation as a m jther is as the sua when it
goes forth in its "might, for it is always in the
meridian, aLd inoweth no evening. The per
son may be r,ray headed, but her mother re
lations is ever iu its Sourish. It may be aa
tuma—y*a, wiuttr—w.th a woman, bat with
a mother it is a ways spring.
Alas ! how little do we appelate a moth
er's terider_ess while liviog \ How heedless we
are iu youth of ali her anxieties and kindness!
But when she is d- ai and gone—when the
cares and coldness of the world come wither
ing to oar he-arts—when we experience how
hard it is to find true sympathy—-how few love
cs for ourseives—how few w! i befriend as in
our m -fortune—then, aye, then it is that we
think of the mother we "have lost.
t&- A FA T Vi'R.BXH RKMEMBEEIXG.—Too
may read tnacy of the literary papers for a
year, and scarcely ti .d a fact thai will make
yea wi? v -r and better ; ail romance and fiction,
'**. velvet and feathers ; little fiends, equip
ped in smi lea and criooliue. big scoaodreU ia
epaaietis, with a lore of a moustache, taming
the heads of simper eg maidens : the eTery
day history of life ingeniously belied, and beaali
fclly outraged Hundreds of persons who can
not afford a borne paper, in the coarse of a
year spend three times the amount it would
cost, in purchasing toe trash."
It is far better to sutler than to lose
the power of suffering.
Experience is a torch tightened ic the
ashes of delusion.
It is oftecer a nobler work to conqaer
a doubt than a redoubt.
Sof The worst of ail kinds of eye water is
a < oqaett's tears