0:<; OOLLAH PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: Thursday Morning, Angnst 7, 1862. jshlccttb Haetrji. RED, WHITE AND BLUE. Red wai the lightuing's flashing. And down through the driving rain, We saw the red eyes dashing Of the merciless midnight train ; Soon many crowded together. Under the lamp's red glow, But 1 saw one figure ouly— Ah ! why did I tremble so ? The eyes that gazed iu the darkness After the midnight train, Are read with watching aud weeping, For it brings none back again, Clouds bang in the west like banners, It d banners of war unfurled. And tbe prairie sod is crimson With the best biood in the world. White faces are pressed to the window, Watching the suu go down, Looking out to the coming darkness, That covers the noi:-y town. White are the hands, too, and quiet, Over the pulseless breast; KG more will the vision of parting Disturb the white sleeper's rest, Over sleeper, and grave and tombstone, Like a pitying mantle spread, The snow comes down in the night time, Wi;h a shy and uoiaeiess tread. Blue smoke rolls away on the north wind. Blue skies grow dusk in the din, Bins waters look dark with the shadow That gathers the world within ; Rigid aud blue are the fingers That clu'.ch at the fading ky ; Blue lips iu their agony mutter : •• 0 God .' let this cup pass by " Blue eye - growing weary with watching ; Strong hand* with waiting to do ; While brave hearts echo tbe watchword : ' Hurrah : for the ed. White ard Bine." |ll i s 1111 aitca us. MARY MOORE. AH my life long I had known Mary Moore. All my life luntr. too, I had loved iier. Our mothers were old playmates and first cousins My first recollection ;s of u young gentleman in a turkey red frock and morocco shots, rocking a cradle, in which reposed u funnv Inn reel, lilustycd baby not qn'.e a year old That young gentleman was myself, Harry Church ; that blue eyed baby was Mary Moore. Later still I saw myself at the little red vchoo! house, drawing my painted sled up to •lie door,an 1 arranging my overcoat on it that Mary migtit ride home. Many a black eye I have gained on such occasions ; for other boys liked her beside me, and she, I am afiaid was something of a flirt, even iu her piunifore.— How Uainily she came tripping down the steps when I called her name ! how sweetly her blue eyes looked up to me from the envious folds of htr winter iioo 1 ! how gaily her merry laugh rung out when by dint o ! ' suopcbnman tjce'.- t ions 1 kept. her*.'"d hi-lore the r si and let her stand upon tlie sups exuitingiy to sec tiiein all go by ! Toe fairy laugh 1 No one hut M iry could let her heart lay up so upon her iip> ! I followed that laugh up trom my days of childhood till I grew an awkward, blushing youth 1 followed it through the healed noon of manhood, and now, when the frosts of age are silvcriu.' my hair, and many children climb my knee and call me "Father," i find that music still. VVtieu I was fifteen, the first great so: row of uiy life came upon me I was sent away to a western school uud was obliged to part with Mary. We were not to see each oilier for three long years I This to me, was a sentence of death, for Mary was Eke life io ine. Bit hearts are very tough things alter all. 1 left college in all the flash and vigor of uiv nineteenth year. I was no longer awkward aud embarrassed,l had grown into a tall, slender strippling, with very good opinion of uivselt in general and particular. — If I thought of Mary Moore, it was to imagine bow I would d.iz/.ie and bewilder her with my good looks and wonderful attainments never tlii* king mat she ungli dazzle and bewilder me still more ; I was asa l puppy, I know, but as youth and good looks hate fled, 1 trust 1 may tie believed when I say the sell-couOeit has let aie also. An advantageous proposal was made to me at this lime, and accepting,l gave up all ideas of profession and prepared logo to the Indies. In my hurried visit home 1 saw nuthirg of Mary Moore, ti lie had gone to a boarding school in Massachusetts, and was not expect cd home till the next fall. 1 gave oue sigh to 'he next full. I gave one sigh to the memory of uiy litile blue eyed playmate, and then call ed myself a man again. " In a year," I thought, as the siage whirl ed away Ironi our door, "in a year three at at tlie most, I will return, and if Mary is as pretty as she used to be—why then perhaps i day marry her. I stroked my budding mustache with com piaceucy, while I settled the future of a voting Hdy 1 i, a d ho t ,; ecn f, r (our years I never timughi of tlie possibility of her refusing me— l ever dreamed that she would not stoop with gratelul teats to pick up the handkerchief 1 chose to throw it at her feet. But now I know that hud M iry met rue then sl'e would have despised me. She was as fur a hove me as the heavens are above the earth. I erlntps iu the scented and effected student tnil of nature and made me a better man. And '! J u at the end of three yews I prepared to THE BRADFORD REPORTER. return, I wrote nothing to the dear ones I was about to meet of the reformations which I knew had taken place. "They loved me as I was," I murmured to myself, " and they shall find for themselves if I am better worth the loving as I am." I packed up many a token from that land of gold for the many friends I was to meet.— The g ft for Mary Moore was one I selected wiih a beatiug heart. A ring of rough virgin gold, with my name and hers iugraved inside. That was all, and yet the little toy thrilled me strangely as I balanced it on the tip of my fin ger. To the eyes of others it was but a small plain circlet suggesting thoughts, by its dain tiness, of the dainty white haud that was to wear it. But to me—oh, me, how much was embodied there ! A loving smile una beauti ful face—low words of welcome—a happy home and a sweei face smiling there—a group of merry children to climb my knee—all these delights weiehidden vvitbiu that little ring of gold. ********** A tab, bearded, sun bronzed man. I knock ed at the door of my father's house. Tlie lights iu the parlor windows, and the hum of conver sat ion, and die cheerful laughter showed me that company were assembled ther*. I hoped that my siair Lzz e would come to the uoor and that I might greet uiy family when uo strangers eyes were looking curiously on.— Bat no—a servant answered my summons ; they were to merry in the parlor to bend tliu long absent one when he asks for ad ; mitt mice Some such flitter thought was passing through my mind, us I heard the sound Irom Hie parlor and saw the half eup | pressed smiles upou the servant's face 1 hesitated a moment before I made my self known, or asked for the family. Aud while I stood silent a strange apparition grew up before me. From behind the servant peered out a small, golden head,a tiuv,delicate form followed, and a Kweet childish face and I blue eyes -ere lifted up to mine ; so like the one I bat had brightened my boyhood that I started back with a sudden feeling of pain. | " What may your name be, little one ?" I asked, while the wcudeiiug servant held the ' door. She lifted up her hand as if to shade her. I (I had seen that v*ry attitude in another, iu i my boyhood, many and many a lime) and | answered iu a sweet, bird like voice. I " Mary Moore," " And what else ?•' I asked. " Mary Moore Chester," lisped tao little • •! I child. My heart sunk down like lead. Here was i an end to all the bright dreams and hopes of my youth and manhood. Frank Chester, my boyish rival who hod often tried in vain to | uMirp my place besirn the girl, had succeeded at last, and won ihe woman away trom me 1— | This was his child—his child and Mary's.— And I must go in there and meet her once again, and then go away forever and die—if i God would let tne 1 I sank body and soul beneath this blow and hiding my face in my hands I leaned against the door The little one gazed at me grieved I and amazed, and put up her pretty lips as if ! about to cry, while the perplexed servant step , pen to th" 1 tiurlor door and called my sister oat i to liii ;i who it could be that conducted him ! si If so strangely. 1 heard a light step and a pleasant voice, j saying • " Did von wish to see ray father, sir ?" I It oked up. There stood a pretty, sweet faced maiden of twenty, not much cbaiigid from the dear little sister I had loved so Weil : I looked at her a tnomeut and then stilling the 1 tumult of my heart by a nrigh'y effun, I opeu i cd ruy arms and said : " Jennie, don't you know me ?" "Harry, Oil my brother Harry ?" she cried, i and threw herself upou my breast. She wept | as if her heart would break. I could not weep, i 1 drew her gently into the lighted pirior, aud | stood with her before them a!! Tuere was a : rush and cry of joy ; and then my mother and i my father sprang towards me, and welcome nie . home with heartfelt tears. Oh, strange and passing sweet is such a greeiiug to the way worn traveler. And as 1 held old mother to rnv heart and grasped my father's hand, while Jennie clung beside me, I felt that all was not ! yet lost, aud though another had secured life's I choicest blessing. Many a joy reinatued for : me in this dear sanctuary of home. Tin-re were four others, inmates of the room who iad arisen on my sudden entrance. One was the blue eved child whom I had already I seen, and now stood by Frank Chester, cling |to his h nd. N-st sister, and in a distant corner, where she had hurridly retreated when my i name was spoken, stood a tall and slender figure halt bidden by the heavy window cur tain that t 1 on the floor. When the first rapturous greeting was over f Jei.tim led uie forward with a timid grace, and and Frank Chester grasped my hand, i " Welcome home my boy,"' he saiu with the loud cheerful tones I remembered so well.— " Von have changed so much 1 never would have known \ou —but no matter for that your heart is in the right place I know. " How can you suy he is changed?" said my ! mother, gently. "To be sure he looks older and graver aud more like a man than when he went away, but his eyes and his smiles are the same as ever. It is that heavy beard that changes him. He is my boy still." God help me? At that moment I felt like a boy und It would have been a blessed relief , to have wept upon her bosom, as I had done in my infancy. But I kept down the beating of my heart and the tremor of my lip, und answered quietly, as 1 looked in liis full baud some face— " You have changed too Frank, but I think ! for the better." " Oh yes thank yon for the compliment.— My wife tells me I grow handsomer every day " His wife I Coald I hear that name and keep silent still ? " And have yon seen my little girl ?" be added, lifting tbe infant io bis arms, and kisa- PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. ing her crimson cheek. I tell you, Harry, there is not another like her in the United States. Dou't you think she looks very much like her mother used to ?" " Very much 1 faltered." " llallo !" said Frank, with a suddenness that made roe starte violently, " I had forgot ten to introduce you to my wife, I believe you and she used to be playmates in your days.— Eh. Harry 1" and he slapped me on the back. '• For the sake of old tines, and because you were not here at the wedding, I will give yon leave to kiss h j .r oi c ■ —but mind old fallow, dou't repeat the ceremony. Come—here she is, and for once I will manage those ferocious moustaches of yours iu the operation." He pushed Lizzy, laughing and blushing, toward me. A gleatn of light and hope, al most too dazzling to bear, came over me, and I cried out before I thought : " Not Mary." It mu>t have betrayed uiy secrets to every one in the room; but nothiiig was said—even Frank was this tiu-e silent. 1 kissed the fair cheek of the young wife ; and hurried to the silent figure looking out of the window. " Mary—Mary Moore," said I, in a low voice, "have you alone no welcome to give the wanderer ?" She turned ar.d laid her band in mine aud murmured hurledly— " I am giud to see you here, Harry?" Simple words—and yet how blest tney made me I I would not have yielded up that mo meut for un Emperor's crown. There was the happy home group and the dear home fire side and there sweet Mary Moore ! The eyes I had dreamed of by night and by day were falling before the ardent gaze of mine— and the sweet face I had so long prayed to see was thf.LA belore me—more beautiful more womanly and more loving than before I I never knew tiii that moment the meuuiug of happiness. Many years have passed since that happy night und the hair that was dark and glossy then is fast turning grey. lam growing to b* an old man and can look back to a long and happy aud well spent life. And yet sweet as it has been I would not recall a single day fot the love that made my manhood so bright shines in the old man ! Can this be so ? At heart I am as ycung as ever. Ana Mary with her hair parted smoothly from a brow that has a slight furrow in it is still the Mary of my early days. To mo she can never grow old or change. The heart that held Iter in infancy and sheltered piously in n.i the flet!t aid beauty of womanhood can never cast htr out till life shall cea*e to warm it. Mot even for love still Eves in heaven. The Canada Thistle. Many of our readeisure not probably aware the Senator McCluer's bill to prevent the spread of Canuda Thistles was passed bv both branches of tlie Legislature last winter, and is now the law of tbe State. It provides that hereafter any individual or corporation allow ing the Cunuda Tnistle to ripen seed on their premises shall be liable to line of ten dollars upon each complaint that is properly establish ed ; aud any one who may fear the spread of wbe Canada thistles upon Lis premises from the lands of his careless neighbor, may, af.er five days'notice, euter upou uuy larais where the weed is louud growing, cut it, and recover full costs for the labor and trouble. Tnis is a wise law, and the farmer who fails to enforce it siric.ly is not awake to Lis own interests. Tbe Cauada thistle is perhaps the most dangerous weed to agriculture we have in this sectiou. Its massive roots so completely occupy the ground wherever it once gets a footing, that nothing else can be grown upon the soil, and seed i? so light that the wind will carry it for miles. There is, therefore, uo safe ty tor uny farmer if the Canada thistle is any where within twenty miles of him, for it will spread iu any direction with most astouisuing rapidity, and wherever it starts it will in a lit tle time completely pre-occupy the laud against any aud every otner crop. We especially invite the attention of our readeis to this law. Take immediate steps to cut it dowu or dig it out, as it will bloom in a few weeks, uud before another mouth the dow ny seed will be wafted in every direction as so many messengers of death to valuable crops.— Every corporation aud individual who has this dangerous weed most dig it mib within the next twenty days to make his work available ; and it must be renewed each year, for it will re quire the most careful digging out for several years to destroy it. Let every farmer resolve to enforce the new law rigidly, without fear or favor, and we shall be spared from the further spread of oue of the most fatal foes knowu to successful agriculture. BIG THING ON* THE CONTRIBUTION BOX Those who go round with tbe contribution box in California churches, plead aud argue the case at the pews as they go along. In one in stance the following dialogue ensued : Parson L extended the basket to Bill, and he slowly shook his head. " Come, William, give us sometbiag," said the parson. " Can't doit," replied Bill. " Why not ? Is not the cause a goon oue?" " Yes, good enough, but I am not able to give anything" " Poh 1 poo ! I know better ; von most give a better reason than that." Well, I owe too much money, I must be just before I am generous, you know." " But, William, yon owe GOD a larger debt than yon owe any oue else." " That's true, parson, but then be ain't pushing me like the rest of my creditors." The argumeut was conclusive. B&- A clergyman observing a poor man in the road breaking stoDes with a pickaxe, and kneeling to get at his work better, made the remark : "Ah, John, I wish 1 could break the stony hearts of my hearers as easily asyou are breaking those stones." The mau replied: " Perhaps, toaster, yon do not work on your knees." "REGARDLESS or DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." Carresponbenc t. Letter from Virginia. CAIIP NKAR JAMES RIVEB, { July 8, ISS'i. J DEAR BROTHER f —Your very welcome letter was duly received, but owing to the lively times that have taken place since then, I have been unable to reply to it, until tbis morning. Oar Regiment has been on duty, and on the march, almost day and night for nearly two weeks, and the men are getting almost worn out, aud are yet doing picket and fatigue du ty utmost coustantly. To give you something of an idea of our condition at the present time, I will commence back, and give you an account ofeveuts as they have occurred daring the passed two weeks : A9 you are aware, we came back and camped near Bottom Bridge, after the battle of Fair Oaks—in which we suffered so severely—for the purpose of resting and recruiting op a little. Yet while there, the details for guard duty were very heavy,— especiuily ou the Fifty-second Regiment, as we were less than two hundred men fit for duty,aud we had a full regiment's duty to do. But this is considered asuothing compared to the duty we had been doing previous to the battle. After staying there about two weeks, and during the recent battles of the right wing of the army, it was ascertained that a siroug force of rebels had come in from the right, ou the east side of the Chickahomuy River, be tweeu us aud the White House lauding, and were coming up in our rear, with lira evident iutentious of crossing at Bottom's Budge, aud attacking the main right wing of the array in the rear, and thus cm us off from the inteuded " fail back'' to the James River. According ly General Naglee, (our Brig.-Genera!) re ceived orders to guard well the bridge, and dispute tbe passage of the enemy across it to the veiy last. This was ou Tuesday, June 24. That uiglit our regiment marched to the bridge, aud remained ou guard until the next dav, '"heu we went back to camp abort noon. Ag: J that night,we were ordered back to the bridge, k aud commenced eni renchiiig ourselves, byway of breast works, rifle pits, Ac., and made preparations to tear up the bridge at a moments notice*. THUS the night was spent, uud the next day (Thursday,) we had so far completed the earth works thut we planted a battery of six guus behind thera. Iu the mean time we received information of tbe enemy's advance toward tbe biidgc in close pursuit of a large baggage iraiu of waggons, extra hor ***- Ac., which were on their way from the Wbite House to the bridge. During the day the wagons came pouring in across the bridge, amid a perfect stampede of some seven or eight hundred extra horses which had beeu turned losse, aud came on in a drove When about the last wagons had crossed the bridge, the plank were torn up, aud the limbers cut away, and in a short time, our cavalry pickets came .u ou double quick, hotly pursued by the Rebel cavalry, and even mixed up with one another, cutting and slasliiug with sabres, and occasionally was heard the sharp report of a revolver. Thus they came on to within three hundred yards of the bridge, when the rebels turned and went back as fast as they came.— But the main body came on aud planted a battery on a hill to our left, nearly opposite the Rail Lload Bridge, and commenced throw ing shells among us. Their guns were well aimed, aud they had a raking shot at us, but our breast works protected us so that they did us no damage, meantime,our battery opeu -1 t-d ou them, and at the same time a battery from tbe rail road bridge opened on them, which soou silenced their guus, and they ske | daddled in .good style. They did not again ! molest us, but they kept their pickets station i ed in sight of us, so as to be able to observe all | that was going oa among us. Thus things ! rested until Sunday. Our regiment staying in ! the rifle pits day aud night all this time, doing ul! tbe guard and picket duty. The men had no opportunity to rest, or sleep, ctrly as they could occasionally lie down in the uust and dirt for an hour or two at a time, with all their equipments on. We had orders to hold ! the bridge until the maiu right wing of tbe ar my could fall back from the vicinity of Sav age's Station, across the White Oak swamp, where, it was determined to check the enemy, j should he attempt to follow us At about 5 o'clock Sunday afternoon, alter most of the array bud moved toward the swamp, a train of cars at Savage Station, was loaded with sur- I plus ammunition,&c., aud set ou fire, and with j a lull head of steaii, started toward the Chic k, alioiuiny, where the rail road bridge had been : burned, directly over the main channel.— } Bottom bridge is from one-halt to three-fortbs of a mile below the rail road bridge,and a por tic-u witbiu sight of it, so we could occassional ly get a giiraps of the burning mass of cars as it came towurd the river at a fearful rate of I speed, making the earth over which it passed j fairly tremble, aud making a sound like that I of a terrible hail storm,uutil itcame to "where I the bridge was, but it vas not there," and with a crash it plunged into the River und at almost the same iuslaut, the umuuition and boiler of the engine exploded, aud such an explosion, I think was never before heard OD the American Continent. Large sticks of timber were thrown into tbe air to a fearful heigbr, and pieces of the engine and boiler, were thrown in every directiou. Tbis seemed to be tbe signal for the Rebels to attack our rear guard near Sav age Station, and immediately ine attack was made, but tbe enemy found more left there than he bad evidently bafg&iued for, and he IN as repulsed, and driven baek with great loss. While this was going on, oar battery was be ing removed, silently, and with as little stir as possible, so that the enemy's pickets should nut know what was really going on amoug us. One piece, however, was left, which stood iD full view of the rebel pickets, until dusk,wheD it was drawn off by baud, behind a piece of woods where the teams were attached to it aud started for White Oak Swamp. Our cavalry pickets were sent out over the river, and relieved those on duty, tbe more effectual ly to bliud the enemy, as to our movements.— As soon as it was dark,a part of the regiment filed off in an opposite direction from that we were to go, until we had passed behind a piece of woods, skirting tbe river bank, and then filed to the left, across a low marshy bottom, where the water in many places was two or three feet deep, aod struck into the road aod pushed on at a rapid pace to White Oak swamp, which was about five miles distant.— : The remaiude? of the regiment soon followed, | and we done uai tall traveling, as tbe rest of : the troops were all ahead of as, aDd it was feared that tbe Rebels would fiod out what was going on, aud come in from the front, on our left, and cut us off, and capture our little handful of men. Gen. Naglee had stayed with U9 until we left the bridge. When an army is fall ing buck, tne rearguard is considered the post of honor, and Gen. Naglee said he would not trust his life there with any 'other regiment in the army. lie rode on a head of us,and when at last about 11 o'clock at night, we came up to the main army, this side of the swamp General Naglee rode np aud asked what regi ment i 3 this? and received tbe answer tbe 52d. took off his hat and shouted " good." After we bad crossed the corduroy bridge, j across the swamp aud came out into a field, I we stacked our gnos, spread a blanket on (he j ground and laid dowu to rest tbe remainder of ! the night. I forgot to mention that Colonel DODGE went home sick soon after the battle of Fair Oaks, and tbe regiment was commanded by Lieut. Col. lIOYT, who, by the way, is be loved by tlia whole regiment for his many ex cellent qualities as a gentleman and good sol dier. He had sent his borse on a head, and shared with the regiment the fatigue of the march, ou foot. Next morning (Monday), about sunrise we cooked oar breakfast aod again took up our line of march, direct towards James river, across a large and beautiful farm, und the whole brigade drew up io line of bat tle, fronting the swamp, OD a ridge a little to the rear of our artillery, and there stacked arms, and fell back into the shade of thp woods. The weather was then, a*:'' been for several days intensely hot, and the men had suffered from the effects of the heat and often from want of water. We were making our selves as comfortable as circumstances would allow, and most of the meu had fallen asleer, i except the p'eket* immediately in front. Thus we were resting from oar labors of the previ ous day, until about 1 o'clock ir the afternoon. All seemed quiet ; hardly a sound was heard, w hen all at once the enemy poured iu a volley ol artillery upon us, from some twenty batter ies on the opposite side of the swamp ! Ev ery raau at once sprung to his feet, and rush ed to his gun —with the exception of a few 1 who thought it safer to rush from, their guns, j toward the river. Our batteries soon opened j lire on them, and the eaunonading for about five hours was terrific. The shot and shell fell thick aud fast around us, and came rnauy times so close to our heads that we were compelled to lie flat on our faces to avoid being struck : by them. S'ime times we could hear them i coming, and could tell about where they were going torougb, and the men woald open ranks and they would plow through the groaud in close proximity to us, and the bails would sometimes strike in front of n9, and come bounding along on the ground and the boys would pick them np and put them io piles like heaps of stone. It was evidently the inten tion of the rebels, in Ibis engagement, to draw the attention of our men mostly to this point, | and if possible to get us to withdraw a large portiou of our troops from onr left, toward James river, and fronting Richmond, and then ! throw their main body against that poiut, and if possible break through and cut off our re-; treat. It was soon evident that this was iheir ' intention, for about 5 o'clock in the afternoon they came on to that point iu great force, and made a most desperate struggle to break our lines, but our men were too wary to be-caught 1o this trap, and were prepared to meat them. Soon the whole lir.e, for over two miles, open ed fire with musketry and artiliery, and the battle raged witn fierceness. On they came, confident of success, and elated at the idea of making a good haul of prisoners, and of de stroying the whole array by ooe grand " coup id night. We were then called ont, and again stationed in order of battle, aud as the main a r my were again moving down the river, wo were a third time to be a rear guard. Soon after daylight it commenced raining, and it came down in torrents,and there we stayed un til late iu the afternoon, when we again took up cu: line of march lurougb the dreuching rain aod wading through the mad uearly over the tops of our boots' until we came into a large field of wheat, a part of which had been cut aud put in shocks, and the men were tak ing the ahieves aod making a road to pet the baggage wagons through the mad. We pass ed through tiie wheat field into a field of clover and lucre s'acked arms for the night, the rain still pouring down in torrents, and hastily constructed a sort of shelter to sleep under. This done we turned in for the night to sleep on wet blankets, spread on the wet ground. It continued to rain until Dearly day light oext morning. About S o'clock iu the men ing the rebels came down toward the river with a battery and commenced throwing shell into the camp, a little to oar right. Our Hoops near there were ordered not to hre a gun in —T to them, but to take a Regiment or two ana creep up to them and charge on the battery, an"! capture it. This order was followed, aud Dot ooly were the guns cap tured, but most of the rebels, themselves, were captured as prisoners. Wc remaioed in the clover field, drawn up in line of battle until pear night, mi ""bed down to the bank of lim river aud encamped, where we no* ore. SiDce we have been here, the regiment has bec-n cuusta-'ly on nicket or fatigue duty, day aod night. For instance, a-, men in com* pan? E. who had come off of a 24 hours tour of picket duly, iast uigui, utter dark, were sent out on fatigue duty—falling timber, digging rifle pits, operate with all our movements, and render the land forces in calculable service. Reinforcements continue to arrive la large numbers, and the facilities for getting supplies, Arc., to the Tiny, superior to those via. York and Pamunkeh river, while the army was operating in that vicinity. Our mail matter begins to come to us i.ore regularly now than it has for a time passed, and I hope wc shall have ro farther trouble ia this respect hereafter. * * * Vourfc, Ac.. A.M. UAIGHT, 1.-.-giaseat P. V. Ta. BATTT.ES BEFORE RICHMOND.— I The fol lowing are the dates and localities of the va riouats'lles before Richmond : Thursday, June 26—Battle of Mechanics vilie. Friday, June 27 —Battle of Gainers Mill. Saturday, June £B—Battle of ChickaUomi ny. Sunday, Tuue 2S—Battle of Pench Orchard —battle of Savage's Station. Monday, Jane 30—Battle of White Oak Swamp ; battle of White Oak creek ; battle of Charles Citv Cross Re ids. Tuesday, July I—Battle of Turkey Bell i. An ignorant fellow, who was about to get married, resolved to make h'.mselt pe-fect iu the response of the marriage service, but, by mistake, he committed the office of bepti .cn for those of riper years ; so when the clergy man asked him in the charcb, " Wilt then | have this wimau to be thy wedded wi.e ?" — ! The bridegroom answered in a very solemn tone, " I renounce them all •!" The astonish | ed minister said, " I think yon are a fool." — To which he replied, " All this I steadfastly believe !" ONE or THE HEADACHES. —" I say, Sambo, were you ever intoxicated ?" " No, Julias, neber ; was you V "Well, I was, Sambo." Tp " Yah, but golly, next morning 1 ihoogut my ued was a Wood shed, and all the niggers in Christendom were splitting wood in it,"