' TERNS OF PUBLICATION. Tlie REPORTER is published every Thursday Morn ,„ -p O GOODRICH, at $2 per annum, in ad ing, "J £ " ' % '"yVERTISEMENTS exceeding fifteen lines are rted at TEN CENTS per line for first insertion, ; FIVE CENTS per line for subsequent insertions, liberal discount is made to persons advertising v the quarter, half-year or year. Special notices k.tr'ed one-half more than regular advertise , All resolutions of Associations ; communi •i ins of limited or individual interest, and no . j of Marriages and Deaths exceeding five lines, "rTcharged TEN CENTS p-r line. 1 Year. 6 mo. 3 mo. One Column, SSO $35 S2O °? e .. 30 25 15 One Square 10 74 5 F trav. Caution, Lost and Found, and oth .' advertisements, not exceeding 15 lines, three weeks, or less, 5* 1 50 Vlniinlstrator's and Executor's Notices.. .2 00 Vtditor's Notices.... 2 50 liit-iness Cards, five hnes, (per year) 500 • [j.ycliiiuts and,others, advertising their business, Ibe charged sls. They will be entitled to 4 -nun, confined exclusively to their business, with . , v ilege of change. 1 Advertising in all cases exclusive of sub , nj.tion to the paper. ,j; PRINTING of every kind in Plain and Fan bus. done with neatness and dispatch. Hand- Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every va •v and style, printed at the shortest notice. The ■R.TF.R OFFICE has just been re-fitted with Power and every thing in the Printing line can v iteil in the most artistic manner and at the , t m tes. TERMS INVARIABLY CASH. @rigin*l ftotrjjj. For the Bradford Reporter. ABACO.* lIY PAUL PEMBERTON, JR. {;,mtifnlAbaco! Isle of the sea! j r this grateful heart turns back to thee, F r -t welcome land that my eyes came to see, \t>er a rough voyage on ocean's wave, ! for long weeks where the elements rave, v;! threatened me oft with a watery grave. I ;t rnv North-land all covered with rime, Abaco found in a soft, balmy clime, \ nnding with cocoa, banana and lime. i a- ucath the trees, on the grass that is there, bid felt the light breezes toy with my hair, b ,oft as Nannetta with fingers so fair. i watched the blue sea with its freightage of ships, Which were casting about like diminutive chips— r ing down in the waves, as the swimming bird dips. Then came the sun-set, cloudless and red ; The orb of day sank in a watery bed, And in his course round to the orient sped. I'im grew the waves on the fathomless sea, L ft was the world to darkness and me— And I fell asleep to dream, Love, of thee! Abaco! Beautiful isle of the sea! First welcome land that my eves came to see, vr this grateful heart turns back to thee. 'Abaco is the most northerly of the Bahama Islands, and is usually the first land seen in a voy v from New-York to the West Indies. afttoU&ntflu*. ''CAN'T AFFORD IT." A Sketch for Every-day Life- BY SYLVANCK COBB, JB. " Can't afford it, Maria." " But you might if you would only think so, Walter," plead the young wife. " 1 can't do it," the husband returned, very emphatically. "It would cost two or 1 three dollars, at the very lowest, to put up :cii a gate, and the old bars will answer i very purpose." Xo, they won't, Walter. The neigh rs' children very often leave the bars : an and then stray cattle come into the . a leu. We may lose more than the price : a gate in one hour, if a cow should hap ;ui' Ut broaching ; but it had occupied 'oughts too long, aud she determined ,! tl .>t out. : ut r ii' ter H ' ie Ba id a little tremulously, Week " reßolutel y "you have ten dollars a " fvs." f^lt d ? .! 10W muoh of that does it take to it t 'il k' 10w , I'm sure. I only know it all to feed and clothe us and E. O. GOODRICH, Publisher. VOLUME XXVI. pay up the interest on the house." " I haven't had a new dress since last Fall ; and 1 was reckoning up yesterday how much we had spent for the children, and I found it to be only fifteen dollars for the last ten months. 1 have worked over some clothes for Charles,and Luciuda jumps into Mary's dresses as the latter outgrows them." " That's all very well," replied Walter, a little testily. " I understand my own busi ness, and I know just what Icau afford,and what I can't. While 1 have the payments to make on my house I must economize—/ must economize" he repeated, very decided ly- " And I ould have you economize," re turned the wife ; hut do not forget that all is not economy which many call so. 1 think that to hire half of John N ilea's pew would be a great source of economy in com fort and lasting good. It would be five dollars laid out to good advantage—sure to return a heavy interest to us and our children. And I think it might be a source of great saving to put a good gate up at the back—" " Stop !" interupted Walter, with a ner vous motion. "You've said enough about this. I kuow my means." " Let me say one word," urged Maria.— There was an earnestness in her tone which caused her husband to stop and listen. "If you will give me five dollars a week 1 will agree to furnish all the provisions for the household, and clothe myself and children. I will do this for one year. That will leave you three hundred and sixty dollars with which to clothe yourself and make your pay ment on the house. On the house you have only to pay a hundred dollars, with interest for two.years, which will leave you a hun dred and forty-eight dollars for your clothes and— other exjjenses." Walter was upon the point of denying this result of the case, but he saw. upon a moment's reflection, that, from his wife's statement, the deduction was correct, so he denied the statement. " You cannot furnish the food, and clothe yourself and children for the sum you have named," he said. Thereupon Maria sat down and made known a few facts to him that hud been hid den within the mysteries of her own house keeping. She was not long in proving to him that, during the past year, the items of expenditure within said limits nad not aver aged five dollars per week. Walter said "Pooh !" and then he added—"Nonsense 1" and then he left the house. " There must be some mistake." he said to himself, after he had got away from the house ; and he really believed there was a mistake. "Have a glass of soda, Bill? Come Tom —have a glass ?" "Don't care if I do," said Tom and Bill. " Have some, Ned ?" And Ned said yes. So the clerk prepar ed four glasses of soda, for which Walter Gray paid twenty-five cents. " Let's have a game of 'seven up' for the oysters," said Bill after the day's work was done. The game was played, and Walter lost, so he paid a dollar for four oyster supper— suppers which none of them needed, and which did them more hurt than good. " Have a cigar, Walter?" asked Tom. Walter said yes ; and in return he paid for four glasses of ale. One evening they met, after work, and Ned proposed that they should "toss up" to see who should pay for the chowder. "Come, John—wou't you come in 1" he said, addressing John Niles, who stood by. "No—guess not," was John's reply. "You'd better. It's only for the chowder —for five, if you come in." " 1 can't." " It's no use to ask him," spoke Walter, in a rather sarcastic tone. "He don't spend his money in that way." John's face flushed and his Hps trembled; but he restrained the biting words which were struggling upon his tongue, and turn ed aud left the shop. " He's a mean fellow," cried Tom, loud enough for Niles to hear. " Tight as the bark of a tree," added Walter, in a tone equally ioud. John Niles heard the remarks but lie did not come back. The four remaining men "tossed up," and tho lot fell upon Walter and Tom. Then they "tossed it off," and it fell upon Wal ter,who paid four shillings for the chowder. Walter started home about nine o'clock, and was overtaken by Niles. " Walter," said the latter, in a kind, but earnest tone, "I want to speak with you.— You have wronged me this evening. I wish you to understand me. For the opinions of Bill Smith and Ned Francis I care not, but I do not wish you to misapprehend me. We live too near together, and I would not lose your good opinion." " Well-—go ahead," returned Walter,who sensible of the tfcet that his companion was one of the best and kindest neighbors in the world. " Y"ou said I was mean." " No, no—'twas not I who said that." " Well—you said that I was 'tight as the bark of a tree.' " Walter could not deny this, so John pro ceeded, — " I refused to join in your little game for three reasons, either one of which should have been sufficient to deter me. First : I have resolved not to engage in any such games of hazard. Second : I did not want any chowder. And third: I could not have afforded to pay for five extra suppers, if the lot had fallen upon me." " Couldn't afford it?" repeated Walter, with a slight tinge of unbelief in his tone. " No," returned the other. " I could not. I used to be on hand for any such game, and I thought 'twould be mean to refuse,but 1 have learned better. Let me tell yon how I first came to see the folly of being afraid to spend money for nothing. Shall I tell you ?" "Certainly," returned Walter, who al ready began to see something. " Well," pursued Niles, "one noou, as I was going away from home, my wife asked me for a dollar. She wanted it to bay some cloth with. I nsked her if she could not get along without it. I had only three dol lars with me, and I hated to let one of them go. She said she really needed the cloth, but if I hadn't got the money to spare she could wait. I knew she was disappointed, but 1 thought she could get along, and I went away. That evening I went into ttye TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., NOVEMBER 2, 18(55. saloon, and we had a fine social time. It cost me just one dollar and a haif. 1 paid the money willingly—without even a tho't of objection—and then I went home. When I went home I heard my wife trying to pac ify our oldest child. The little thing had expected a new dress,which had been prom ised her, and she l'elt badly because she had not got it. " Wait," urged my wife, as the child sob bed in her disappointment. " Papa hasn't got the money now ; but he'll have some by-aud-by, and then you shall have a pret ty dress. 'Poor Papa lias to work hard.' " The words smote me to the heart. I could not afford a dollar to dress mv little child, but 1 could afford any amount for the useless entertainment of others ! The dol lar which my needy wife could not get, when she asked for it, 1 paid away almost twice told for nothing. Put it'learned me a lesson. I opened my eyes, and kept diem open. On the very next morning 1 afford ed the dollar, but I could not afford any more for the beer man. 1 had not dreamed how much 1 was wasting, hut when I stop ped up that leak, and allowed my funds to How into their proper channel, I soon found that I could afford every reasonable com fort my wife and children needed. So I stick to the principle which has proved so beneficial to myself and family. Ah— what's that? There's an animal in your 1 garden, Walter." They had reached the garden fence, and, by the dim starlight, Walter could see a horned beast trampling amongst his sweet corn. The bars had been either left down, or hooked down, and a stray cow got in.— ►They drove her out and then Niles went home. Walter btivv that the ljihibt hiiil duiio j considerable damage,but he was not angry, for he hatj something of more importance ! to think of. He went and sat down beneath an apple tree, and pondered. " Bless me, if he hasn't put the case down about square 1" lie said to himself, at the end of some minutes of meditation. "Let me see," he pursued : —"There's sixty-sev en cents for chowder—fifty cents for ale— fifty cents for soda. And that's within the lust three days. A dollar and sixty-seven cents. Is it possible ! Over a hundred dol lars a year ! And y'et I can't afford two j dollars for a gate, nor five dollars that my j family may have religious instruction for a year Walter Gray— l think you had better turn over a new leaf." And Walter Gray did turn over a new leaf. On the very next day he did two things thereby astonishing two parties. He had a new gate made for the entrance to the garden,and thereby astonished his wife; and lie refused to "toss up'' for the ale, and thereby astonished a crowd of expectant thirsty ones. For a month he pursued this course, and by the expiration of that time he could fully appreciate the new blessings that were dawning upon him. He discover ed that he could afford everything which the comfort of his family demanded ; and in arriving at this result he had only to cut loose those things which he really could not afford. It was a wonder to him how he could have been so foolish. When at the end of the year, he had paid his note, and had ninety-two dollars left, he felt at first as though there must be some mistake; but when his wife went over their house hold expenditures with him, and showed liini that all ■ they had needed had been bought and paid for, he saw just how it was. He saw that for years he had been wasting his substance, and depriving him self and loved ones of the comforts they needed—not intentionally, but through the strange mistakes that leads thouands in the same course. But he did so no more. Some times, even now, Walter Gray says —"Can't afford if ," and he says it very em phatically, too. But it is not when his wife or children ask for comfort or joy, nor yet when the needy poor ask for help and chari ty —for he can well afford all that ; but it is when the wild speculation, or the loose companion, asks him to engage in some game of hazard which may rob himself and family of their substance. Then he says— and ho repeats it if need be— "CAN'T AFFORD IT!" IN A FOG.— A few years ago, there lived in the town of , a son of Judge B, whom we will call Joe, who frequently im bibed more than he could comfortably car ry. There also resided in the neighborhood a planter named W., who kept a saloon.— Now W. was a great practical joker. On one occasion, Joe came into W.'s saloon,and rather early in the morning got very much intoxicated, and finally fell asleep in his chair. Joe was very near sighted, and always wore specs. After he had slept some time, W. took off his specs, blackened tho glasses, put them back again, lighted the lamps, and then awoke Joe, telling him it was about 12 o'clock at night and he wanted to shut up. Joe started, and re marked that he slept some time. W. then said : " Joe, it is very dark, and if you will bring it back again, I will lend you a lan tern." W. lighted a lantern, gave it to Joe, and helped him up stairs. Joe went off home (up the main business street,) in the mid dle of the day, with his lantern, everbody looking at him, and wandering what was the matter. To REVIVE FADED BRACK CI.OTH.— BoiI two or three ounces of logwood in vinegar, and when the color is extracted drop in a piece of carbonate of iron, which is of the same nature as rust of iron, as large as a chest nut, and let it boil. Have the coat or pan taloons well spoDged with soap and hot water, laying them on a table and brushing the nap down with a sponge. Then take the dye on the table aud sponge them all over with dye, taking care to keep | them smooth and brushing downwards.— When completely wet with dye, dissolve a teaspooufull of saleratus in wafrn water, and sponge all over with this, and it sets the color so completely that nothing rubs off. They must not be rung or wrinkled but carefully hung up to drain. The brown est clotli may be made a perfect black in this simple manner. JUDGE a man by his actions ; a poet by his eye ; a lawyer by his leer ; a player by his strut ; an Irishman by his swagger ; an Englishman by his rotundity ; a Scotch man by his shrug ; a justice by his frown ; a great man by his modesty: a tailor by his agility ; and a woman by her neatness. It matters not what a man loses, if he saves his soul ; but if he lose his soul, it matters not what he saves, REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. THE WIDOW AND THE POKER- Mr. William Woodhouse was naturally a very timid man. Not that he was lacking in moral or physical courage, hut that he was afraid of the women. On all other oc casions he was usually equal to the emer gency, he it whatever it might ; but place him tete-a-tete with a woman, and, to Use a vulgar, but expressive phrase, he was done for. llis mother had long ago settled down to the uncomfortable conviction that William would never marry and the girls had ar rived at the same conclusion ; it had be come quite the thing to say, in making comparison, "As great a fool as Will Woodhouse." For—take note, bashful gentlemen—how ever much ladies may admire modesty in the other sex, they invariably despise a man who lias not heart enough to say to the girl of bis choice, " I love you." \\ ill admired all the girls in his way,but he looked upon them very much as sensible people do upon a hornet's nest—as a curi ous piece of architecture, but not safe to be familiar with. So he kept his distance, and in the mean time arrived at the mature age of twenty three. Then he met, for the first time, at a picnic-party, Adelaide Browne. We be lieve, people with the stoniest hearts fall in love at picnics, and from that hour poor Will hud no comfort of his lile. Sleeping or walking, his dreams were full of the beautiful .Miss Browne. Surely there never was another of the numerous Browne fam ily like her! Blue eyes, white muslin dress, with knots of pink ribbon—brown hair, red lips, pearly teeth, snowy hands— all danced together in miscellaneous " all hands round " before his distorted vision. Adelaide, all unconscious of the trouble she had caused, went her way, breaking the hearts of most of the young gentlemen in Highbridge, and trying hard to fracture the few that remained whole. She was visiting her aunt Hooper and it is an undeniable fact that ladies always take best where they are not known. This is no libel on the sex—no, indeed ! for with gentlemen this truth is still more ap plicable. Mrs. Hooper was a widow lady, of no small personal attractions in her own esti mation, and if she was not so young as she might have been, she thought she was, and behaved accoidingly. She still affected short sleeves and profuse ringlets of glos siest black—though envious individuals persisted in it that her curls were made at the hair-dresser's. The same persons also believed that she was anxious to supply that place of the dear deceased as soon as possible. For a week after meeting with Adelaide, Will bore up bravely. The second meet ing destroyed all the stock of composure he had been hoarding up. He took des perately to the Muses, and walked the whole night away, to the infinite destruc tion of shoe-leather and the infinite disgust of his practical papa. He met Adelaide now quite frequently. Highbridge was very gay, There was a singing school, a lyceum, a society, and then the folks got up excursions to the sur rounding hills, for it was yet early autumn, and nature was in her robes of state. There was an exclusion to Mount Giblo, one fine (lay, and there Will had the ecsta tic pleasure of treading on Adelaide's dress, thereby throwing her headlong into a pile of brush, and while Laura Blake picked her up and helped her pin her Hounces, he stood by frightened out of his wits, and momentarily expecting the mountain to open and swallow him up. From that time he pined rapidly. His appetite was a thing of the past. His mother thought him in a quick decline, and dosed him with hoarhound and Dr. Perkin's patent pills. He grew worse and worse. At last, thinking himself near his end, he confessed to his mother. She was thunder struck at first ; but afterwards, like a sen sible woman, she advised him to put 011 his " t'other clothes" and go right over and lay the case before Miss Browne. It couldn't kill him, she said, and then if she refused him—why, there was as good fish in the sea, etc. Will took three days to consider, and at the end of that time his mind was made up. He swallowed a double dose of blackberry cordial, donned his flame colored vest and black blue plaids, brushed his hair till it shone like ebony, covered his head with his father's ten dollar beaver, and made the best of his way to Mrs. Hooper's. Not that he intended to ask Adelaide—but Mrs. Hooper. If he could only get the aunt won over to his cause, and employ her to state the condition of his heart to her niece, he should be happy. He felt assured that he never could live through confessing him self to Adelaide ; and if he did, and she should say no, he was satisfied he should faint right on the spot As good fortune would have it, he found Mrs. Hooper alone, in her best gown and her best humor She was charmed to see him, and treated him to nuts and cider, and a seat on the sofa so near herself that Will was at his wit's end to frame the first word of his errand. They talked of the weather and the crops till the clock struck ten. The* widow tried to make him think it was only nine, but he was not so far gone but that he could still count. He felt that the terrible moment could be no longer delayed ; he must make a beginning : " Mrs. Hooper," said he, "I came over this evening—" he hesitated. " Yes, Will," she said encouragingly. " 1 came over—" "Yes, I know you did," still more en couragingly. " I came over to ask a great favor of you." " Well, you couldn't have come to any body that would be readier to do you a kindness." "Thank you." The sweat stood on his forehead in great drops. " But this is a very delicate business, very. I come to ask you to —to —to." " Go on —don't be afraid ; I am listen- ing." " The fact of it is, I'm in love—desperate ly ! There, I've done it 1" "Mercy on me ! Why William ! and I never mistrusted it—never ! Well, of all things !" and the widow edged a little clus ter and put her fat hand in William's. " Yes I'm in love, and I come to ask you if you would—" " Will I ? To be sure I will 1 How f could you think otherwise ! 1 have always I thought so much of you ! But it is so sud den ! What would folks say?" "Deuced if I care !" cried Will, elated at the prospect before him. " It's nobody's business, am I to be wretched 011 account of what people say ? Don't hug me so, Mrs. llooper, I beg—l uiut used to it ; and —and what was that noise ?" "The mice, I guess. Dear William, how glad 1 am you told me !" "And you'll ask Adelaide, make it all right with her ?" " Adelaide ? Oh ! she'll have 110 earthly objections—of course not !" " Are you sure? If I was only certain of it. Oh ! Mrs. Hooper, I loved her the moment I set my eyes 011 her !" " Her? Who?" " Why, your niece, Adelaide Browne. She is the only woman 011 earth that I could ever be liappy with. I shall die if I don't get her !" Mrs. Hooper turued pale. Site caught up 1 the poker and flew at our hero like a 111a ! niac. He made for the door, she following j close. " I'll show you how to insult a respecta ! ble woman !" she cried ; " I'll teach you to ; steal the afl'ectious of a guihdess heart and ! then prove false !" each " showing" ac companied by a thump from the poker. Will at last, succeeded in putting the door between him and his antag mist, and iu frantic haste lie dived down over the steps, and at the bottom reeled full into the ■ arms ot Adelaide Browne herself, who was | just returning from a friend's. "Don't let her get me !" lie cried ; " I'd rather die than she should hug me "again ! It's you I love, not her, she's madder than a panther." It was not a very elegant proposal, but Miss Browne's self-possession insured Will's everlasting weal. She accepted liiin 011 the spot—for she had liked him all along, and nothing had stood between them but this abominable baslifulness. Will is a liappy husband and father now; but even to this day the sight of a widow will make him tremble, they are so inti mately associated in his mind with a po ker. FUN, FACTS AND FACETLffi. Ax editor in Maine is in a bad fix. He dunned a subscrib. r fur liis subs, -ription, which he refused to nay, and threatened ( > flog him if he stopped the paper! "TOMMY, my son, run to the store and get a pound of sugar, that's a dear little fellow." "Ex cuse me, ma ; I am somewhat indisposed this morning. Send the old man and tell him to bring me a plug of tobacco !" " ARE you the mate ?" said a man to the Irish co.)k of a vessel lyiug in port. "No,'' said ho, "hut I'm the man as boils the hfile." IT doesn't follow that, because we have taken a perilous step, we ought to retrace it. .She wasn't a wise old women who crossed a bridge,and on being told that it was labeled "dangerous," turned and recrossed it in all haste. " MA, has aunty got bees in her mouth ?" "No, why do you ask?" "Cause, Captain Jones caught hold of her, and said lie was going to take honey from her lips, and she said, ' Well, make haste.'" SoirFiiotiY has found out a now way of taking pictures, by which they can he taken butter in the night than in the day time. A photograph er has missed several from the frames that hung by I his door and dosn't approve of the plan. A MAX courting a young woman was in- i terrogated l)V lnr I'atlifr as to his occupation. "I | am a paper-iiangvr upon . large scale," ho replied. He married the girl and turned out to be a bill sticker. POOR FELLOW. —An acquaintance who has been eating and drinking any how for many years is reduced to sueli a state that the coats of his stomach are all out at the elbows. WIIY is cutting off an elephant's head widely different from cutting off any other head ? —Because when you separate the head from the body you don't take it from the trunk. NEW DEFINITION.— The man who carries every thing before him The waiter. " TIM, does your mother ever whip you ?" "No; but she does a precious sight worse,though." •• What's that V" " Why,she washes my face every morning." AWFFL !—The following startling threat was made use of the other day by an excited pugil ist : " 1 *ll twist yon ronnd your own neck, and ram you down your own throat, until there is noth ing left of you but the extreme ends of your shirt collar sticking out of your eyes." His opponent left. Do PROFESSORS of logic usually give loc um s on their own premises ? QUITE RIUHT—-A sentimental young lady having asked a gentleman why he did not secure some l'ond one's company across the ocean of life, replied that he would do so, weio he certain that said ocean would be Pacific. DON'T board at a house where they give you only cold victuals. It isn't thought healthy to be upon a cooling board. A NEURO preacher once observed to his hearers at the close of his sermon, as follows ; "My obstinacions bredren,l find it no more use to preach to you dan it is for a grasshopper to wear knee bucklos." " As WE two are one," said a witfv brute to his wife, "when I beat you, 1 beat half of my self." "Well," said tie- wife, "tLu-u beat your own half, not mine." WHY are suicides the most successful people in the world V—Because they always accom plish their vicn tula. DON'T be a miner if you can be anything else. There will he time enough to stay under ground after you are dead. AT a trial recently the jury returned the following verdict: "Guilty, with some little doubt as to whether he is the man." IT has been decided lately that a boy found 011 a man's door-step may not necessarily be liis step-son. WHY is the punishment of the birch prac ticed by some pedagogues f- - Because they are of opinion that it makes dull boys .smart. FROM what tree was mother Eve prompt ed to pick the apple ?—Devil-tree. ARF.RNETHY the celebrated English phy [ sician, once said to a rich but dirty patient, who J consulted him about an eruption, "Let your ser ! vants bring to you three or four pails of water and j put into a wash tub, take off your clothes, get into ! it, and rub yourself with soap and a rough towel, and you'll-recover." "This adv.ee seems very much like telling me to wash myself." "Well, it may he open to such construction," said Abernetliy. "GOOD blood will always show itself," as the old lady said, when she was struck by the red ! ness of her nose. WHY is the leader of an orchestra at the opera the most wonderful man of the age ?—Be cause he beats Time. ANNA, to her beau,— "Frederick, what city is that you're going to visit this fall ?" Fred, —"lf you have no objection, I'm going to Have- Anna." *s*2 per* Annum, in Advance. GRAVES OF UNION PRISONERS AT ANDER SONVILLE. REPORT OF C,UT. MOOBE. WASHINGTON, Wednesday, Oct. 18, 181)5. The following report of Capt. J. M. Moore A. Q. M., who was sent to Andersonville, Ga., to mark the graves of Union prisoners for future identification, contains valuable information, in which the people are inter ested, and will, doubtless, be appreciated by the relatives anp friends of those who have given their lives to their country : ASSISTANT QUARTERMASTER'S Office, J DEPARTMENT OF WASHINGTON, WASIIINTTON, D. C., Sept. 20, 1855 ) Hrvvtl-Major-Gen. 11. C. MEHIS, (juwtmnuster-Geit erul United Statm Army, Wnshbujlon, 1). C. GENERAL : In accordance with Special Orders No. 19, Quartermaster-General's Office, dated June 30, 18(>5, directing me to proceed to Andersonville, Ga., for tli'e pur pose of marking the graves of Union sol diers for future identification, and inclosing the cemetery, I have the honor to report, as follows : 1 left Washington on the Bth of July last, with mechanics and materials for the pur pose above mentioned. On my arrival at Savannah I ascertained that there was no railroad communication whatever to Andersonville, the direct road to Macon being broken and that from Au gusta via Atlanta also in the same condi tion. 1 endeavored to procure wagon trans portation, but was informed by the General c 'irinianding the Department of Georgia, that a sufficient number of teams could not he had in the State to haul one-half of my stores, and as the roads were bad and the distance more than 400 miles, I abandoned all idea of attempting a route through a country difficult and tedious under more propitious circumstances. The prospect of reaching Andersonville at this time was by no means favorable, and nearly one week had elapsed since my arrival at Savannah. 1 had telegraphed to Augusta, Atlanta and Macon almost daily, and received replies that the railroads were not yet completed. At length, on the morning of the 18th of July, the gratify ing telegram from Augusta was received announcing the completion of the Augusta and Macon road to Atlanta, when I at once determined to procure a boat and proceed to Augusta by the Savan nah River. The desired boat was secured, and in 24 hours after the receipt of the telegram al luded to, was on my way with men and ma terial for Augusta. On my arrival there I found the railroad completed to Macon ; and that from Macon to Andersoiivijle, hav ing never been broken, experienced little difficulty in reaching my destination, where 1 arrived July 25, after a tiresome trip, oc cupying six days and nights. At Macon, Major-Gen. Wilson detailed one company of the Fourth United States Colored Troops to assist me. A member Of the former company was killed on the sth of August, at a station named Monte zuma, on the South-Western Railroad. The rolling stock of all the roads over which I traveled is in a miserable Condi- ! tion, and very seldom a greater rate of ; speed was obtained than twelve miles an hour. At the different stations along the j route tle object of the expedition was well i known, and not unfrequently men, w taring ! the garb of Rebel soldiers would enter the 1 ears and discuss the treatment of our pris-j oners at Andersonville, all of whom candid- j ly admitted it was shameful, and a blot on j the escutcheon of the South that years j would not efface. \\ bile encamped at Andersonville I was j daily visited by men from the surrounding I country,and had an opportunity of learning ! their feelings toward the Government, and, | with hardly an exception, found those who ! had been in the Rebel army penitent and | more kindly disposed than those who have j never taken a part, and anxious to again j become citizens of the Government which j they lought so hard to destroy. On the morning of the 26th of July, the work of identifying the graves, painting and lettering the head boards, laying out the walks, and inclosing the cemetery, was commenced, and, on the evening of August 15, was completed, with the exception here after mentioned. The dead were found buried in trenches on a site selected by tiie Rebels, about 300 yards from the stockade. The trenches were from two to three feet below the sur face, and in several instances, where the rains hail washed the earth, but a few inch es. Additional earth was, however, thrown on the graves, making them of a still great er depth. So close were they buried without cof fins or the ordinary clothing to cover their nakedness,that not more than 12 inches was allowed to each man : indeed, the little ta blet marking their resting place measuring 10 inches in width,almost touching each oth- j or ' United States soldiers, while prisoners j at Andersonville, had been detailed to inter i their companions, and by a simple stake at the head of each grave, which bore a num ber, corresponding with a similar numbered name upon the Andersonville hospital rec ord, 1 was enabled to identify and mark with a neat tablet, similar to those in the cemeteries at Washington, the number, name, rank, regiment, etc., and date of death, of 12,461 graves, there being but 451 which bore the inscription "Unknown I S Soldiers." One hundred and twenty thousand feet of pine lumber was used in these tablets alone. The cemetery contains 50 acres, and has been divided by one main avenue, running through the center, and subdivided into blocks and sections in such a manner that, with the aid of the record, which I am hav ing copied for the Superintendent, the visi tors will experience no difficulty in finding any grave. A force of men is new engaged in laying out walks and clearing the cemetery of stumps, preparatory to planting trees and flowers. I have already commenced the manufac ture of brick, and will have a sufficient number by the Ist of October to pave the numerous gutters throughout the cemetery the clay in the vicinity of the stockade be-J ing well adapted for the purpose of brick- j making. Appropriate inscriptions are placed; through the ground, and 1 have endeavor- 1 ed, as far as my facilities would permit, to j transfer this wide, unmarked and unhonor-1 Ed graveyard into a fit place of interment for the Nation's gallant dead. At the entrance the works "National Cemetery, Andersonville, Ga.," designated the City of the Dead. On the morning of the 18th of Angust, at sunrise, the stars and stripes were hoist ed in the center of the cemetery, when a national salute was tired, and several na tional songs sung by those present. The men who accompanied me, and to whom I am indebted for the early comple tion of my mission, worked zealously and faithfully from early in the morning until late at night, although suffering intensely from the effects of heat. Unacclimated as they were, one after another was taken sick with the fever incident to the country, arid in a brief period my force of mechanics was considerably lessened, obliging me to j obtain others from the residents in different parts of the State. All my men, however, recovered, with the exception of Mr. Eddy Watts, a letterer, who died on the 16th of July of typhoid fever, after a sickness of three weeks. I brought his body back with me, and delivered it to his family in this city. Several of the United States Cavalry, detailed by Gen. Wilson, died of the same fever, shortly after joining their command at Macon. Andersonville is situated on the South western Railroad, 00 miles from Macon, there is but one house in the place, except those erected by the so-called Confederate Government as hospitals, officers' quarters, and commissary and quartermasters' build ings. It was formerly known as Anderson, but since the war the "ville" has been added. The country is country is covered mostly with pines and hemlocks, and the soil is sandy, sterile, and unfit for cultivation, aud, unlike the section of country a few miles north and south of the place, where the soil is well adapted for agricultural purposes, cotton as well as corn is exten sively raised. It is said to be the most unhealthy part of Georgia, and was probably selected as a depot for prisoners on account of this fact. At midday the thermometer in the shade reaches frequently 110, deg. and in the suu the heat is almost unbearable. The inhabitants of this sparcely settled locality are with few exceptions, of the most ignorent class, and from their hag gard and sallow faces the effects of chills and fever are distinctly visible. The noted prison pen is 1,540 feet long and 150 feet wide, and contains 27 acres. The dead line is 17 feet from the stockade, and the sentry boxes are 30 yards apart. The inside stockade is 18 feet high, the outer one 12 feet high, and the distance be tween the two is 120 feet. Nothing lias been destroyed. As our ex hausted, emancipated and enfeebled sol diers left it, so it stands to-day, as a monu ment to an inhumanity unparalleled in the annals of war. How men could survive as well as they did in this pen, exposed to the rays ol an almost tropical sun by day and drenching dews by night, without the slightest cover ing, is wonderful. The ground is filled with the holes where they had burrowed in their efforts to shield themselves from the weather, and many a poor fellow, in endeavoring to protect him self in this manner, was smothered to death by the earth falling in upon him. A very worthy man has been appointed superintendent of the grounds and cemetery, with instruction to allow no buildings or structures of whatever nature to be de stroyed, particularly the stockade surround ing the prison pen. The stories told of the sufferings of our men, while prisoners here have been sub stanciated by hundreds, and the skeptic who will visit Andersonville even now, and examine tiie stockade, with its oozy sand, the cramped and wretched burrows, the dead-line and the slaughter-house, must be a callous observer indeed if lie is not con vinced that the miseries depicted at this prison-pen are no exaggerations. I have the honor to be, General, your obedient servant. JAMES M. MOORE. Caption and Assistant-Quartermaster. U. S. A. NUMBER 23 SALT WF.LLS OK THE I'SITED STATES. —The consumption of salt in this oouiury is enor mous, but of unknown magnitude. Our supplies come from the West Indies and Great Britain chiefly, and Liverpool salt is nothing other than that of the West Indies improved by grinding. • A great deal is de rived too from domestic distillation. It will be remembered that an important da y performed by the navy along the At lantic and Bay coasts of the Southern States was the destruction of all the salt factories, some of which were unexpected ly large and well furnished, and turned out immense supplies. Besides being produced by solar evaporation of sea water, as in the cases alluded to, salt is also obtained in this country from distillation of the brine of salt springs and from the borders of salt lakes, where the snu evaporates the water. New York and West Virginia and Ohio and Michigan furnish something of the for mer. Texas and Utah provide the latter. The business is now a very important one, since we consume some twenty-eight mil lion bushels annually. As long ago as 182!) the wells on the Kanawha river pro duced about one million bushels of salt an nually, which was afterwards increased to some three millions. The wells there were sunk from 800 to 1,500 feet, and the llols ten river salines produced about 250,000 bushels annually. The salt springs on the river Kiskimine tas, in Western Pennsylvania, yield about j one million bushels annually, and from I what we have heard of the product in the ! northwestern part of the State we expect j to have this production greatly increased by the next census. There were some 1 half million bushels produced in the Hock ing Valley and Pomeroy salines of Ohio in 1855, and the yield must be vastly larger j now. There are three great salt basins, too, in Michigan ; 17,000 square miles in ; the valley of the Saginaw river, producing 50,000 bushels in 1850, have been so en larged by closing the Kanawha works that more than 3,000,000 bushels were made in 1863. This finds its market in the South and West. The New York works at Syra j cuse produced 9,053,864 bushels in 1862 and 8,378,835 in 1863. The Association | owning them has a capital of sl6o,ooo,and in four years they have paid to the stock holders $944,000. The total product of tbo ; country is about 17,000,000 bushels per annum, ifnd the total import between 10,000,000 and 13,000,000 ; giving an ag gregate consumption of about 30,000,000 i bushels. A FIVE year old chap was assigned the duty of "rocking" his little brother to sleep. After a few minutes of fruitless effort to soothe the restless infant to slumber, he called his mother's attention to the state of the case with this remark, "Ma, this fellow won't go to sleep--1 think he wants some thing." All questions as to what the baby wanted were only answered by a blush and a downcast look, but iu a few mtnutes after, while the infant was in the enjoy ment of what lie really did want, little five year old explained himself by the interro gation, "Ha! didn't 1 know what he waut ed ?"