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!OR THI itownwas 1131100IILT.
A. MC E 3 rio CO Mt 'V"
Of the Great Struggle between Liberty
and Despotism for the last
Hundred It earl.
Rev. Robert J. Breckenridge, of Ken.
tacky, the chairman of the Baltimore Con
vention which re-nominated Abraham
Lincoln for the Presidency, addressed the
convention at Louisville which elected
him as a delegate to the National Con
vention, May, 1864. In this address he
says :
"I never was technically an Abolition
ist, but have been a life-long emancipa
tionist. Wm. Lloyd Garrison was the
originator of the special ideas called Abo.
tionism, and they embrace three proposi
tions : First, the instantaneous and uni
versal abolition of slavery, irrespective of
the consequences; bat I was always in
favor of a gradual system of emancipa
tion. The second point was, that the hos
tility against color was a prejudice, and
ought to be abolished, and the negro
ought to be admitted to equality with the
white race according to his merits—that
is, if he bad more sense or better cul
ture than a white man, he ought to have
the preference in any given case, as for
office or social position. I have always
considered this an utterly impossible state
of society, and have always opposed the
idea, and do now oppose it. You ask me
now to let negroes vote in Kentucky. I
answer, it is impracticab'e. The prejudice
as to color is natural. In the West Indies
where the blacks predominate, they will
not allow a man to vote unless he has a
certain amount of black blood in him.—
The third principle of the Abolitionists
was utter and unmitigated hatred of col
onization. But I have been the warm and
constant supporter of the establishment of
a free state in Africa by the colonization
of negroes from the United States. There
never was a civilized State in the tropics,
and I believe the change that would make
the greatest impression upon the world
would be the establishment of a civilized
tree black State within the tropics. Slavery
c ,uld thus be brought to a close by grad-
ually supplanting the blacks with a more
congenial race among ourselves. This 1
scheme is full of wisdom and humanity,"
Here, Americans, is the philosophy of
Christianity in opposition to the philoso
phy of French Infidels ! Here is the
" idea" of all the Christian philosophers in
Europe and America up to the year 1835.
Here is the history of all the Christian
diiines in the world before it was pollu
ted ,by the "pestilential philosophy" of
atheists and deists. Now as to the abili
ty of this Christian divine to reason and
philosophize upon this subjede, let his bi
ography answer. The Cyclopcedia says :
" Robert J. Breckinridge, D.D., LL.D.,
is an American divine of the presbyterian
church, born in Kentucky, in 1800. He
studied successively in Princeton, Yale
and Union Colleges, graduating at the
last in 1819. He then fitted himself for
the bar, and practiced law for 8 years, be
ing in that period several times a member
of the legplature of Kentucky. His fam
ily bad been presbyterians since the lime
of the reformation, and in 1829' he joined
that church. He was ordained pastor of
the first presbyterian church in Baltimore
in 1822, and rose to eminence for his elo
quence and power in the pith*. In 1845
he was elected President of Jefferson Col
lege, Pa., where he remained two years,
at the same time being pastor of a church
in a neighboring village ; after which he
removed to Kentucky, assumed the pas
torate of the first presbyterian church in
Lexington, and became superintendent of
public instruction in that State. In 1853
be was elected by the general assembly
professor of polemic theology in the Sem
inary at Danville, an office which be con
tinues to bold. He has participated large
ly in the religious, moral, and philanthro
pic movements and controversies of the
last thirty-five years. While in Baltimore
be edited the "Literary and Religious
Magazine," and the "Spirit of the 19th
Century," and his discussions with the Hu
man Catholics, which extended over the
whole field of faith and practice, gave evi
dence of the extent of his knowledge of
church history and systematic theology.
For his kind services to free the blacks of
Maryland, on one occasion he received a
piece of gold plate ass present from more
I
than a thousand of them. He published
F two voluttes of "Travels in Europe,"and
beside a great number of tracts, essays
and letters, bas recently published an im
portant work on theology."
, •
- This is the learned divine, who says he
_4 has always opposed the special - ideas of•
the Abolitionists originated by Wilii3l2l
"Lloyd Garrison. By a singular coinci
ileum Dr. Breckinridge delivered an ad
dress before the Colonization Society of
Kentucky on the 6th day of January,
11 831—the very month in which the first
[Lumber of Garrison's Liberator was is-
Cued from the press ; extracts from which
' 'will be given hereafter, showing that all
the Africans in America might be carried
back to the land of their fathers and thus
' rid the country of slavery.
But Garrison, who thanked God that
de was an infidel, says: "The first thing'
( l oo d i l i v o a s n
mi te declarewar 'against the col.'
Notice here that Gen. Lafayette, of
Prance, who helped to achieve the liber
ties of America, was at this very time one
of the Vice Presidents of the colonization
society upon which Wln. Lloyd Garrison
declared war, and that be remained in
that office until his death in 1884. Re
member, also, that William Wilberforce
and Thomas Clarkson, the great philan
thropists of England, were members of
this society, and were the very persons
who sent the first negroes to Sierra Le
one,:iustead of making equals of them in
England. In America,. the names of all
the divines of every religious denomina
tion are recorded as members of this soci
ety, and working fbr the removal of the
negroes of Africa. But Garrison, the in
fidel says, "I made war on that scheme,
and carried on the war until the power of
the Colonization Society was broken ; for
it declared that, emancipation and eoloni
zation.must go hand in hand; maintain
ing that Africa was the native land of
the blacks, and that they ought to be sent
thither. It proclaimed that prejudice
against the negro was a natural and un
conquerable feeling, which God had
im
planted in the breast of the white man,
and I demanded that the blacks should
stand on the same platform of equality
with the white race. Such were the
grounds on which I assailed it, until,
thank God, it was rendered powerless."
Note who aided this Infidel in his war
upon ehristianity and its efforts co remove
slavery from the land by the removal of
the nfgroes themselves ?
Answer : In 1835 a Baptist Magazine
published in the city of New York con
tained the following article.
"Those who are conversant with the
history of this city for the last, half centu
ry, are aware that a knot of French infi
dels and atheists congregated here dur
ing the French revolution, and together
they formed a Jacobin Club. Here Palm
er lectured on deism, and Foster satirized
the scriptures, and scoffed at everything
religious. or sacred. The seed thus sown
germinated, though its growth was small
and stinted for some time. Here Tom
Paine spent Um, latter part of his days,
and his life of blasphemy was a counter
part to his infidel principles. When Rob
ert Dale Owen arrived here he found his
way prepared for him. He lectured on
reliaion and the. Bible, and declared 11...
hot impostures. Next came Fanny
Wright, who reiterated the blasphemy of
Paine and Owen. Her converts were mul
tiplied, a temple of science was erected,
and hundreds violated the Sabbath by lis
tening to, these apostles of Satan."
Americans ! The societies which Fanny
Wright established in the Eastern States
and clilled by her name, were the Jacobin
clubs revived. The name was changed to
Abolition or Anti-Slavery Societies, and
these were the same as the "Societies of
the Friends of the Blacks" is France,
founded by Robespierre, Brissot, and oth
er French infidels.
New, to prove that Wm. Lloyd Garri
son was one of Fanny Wright's converts,
we quote from an Abolition paper of 1833,
which says:
"The Fretich 'Society of the Friends of
the Blacks' is on intimate terms with the
Abolitionists of the United States, and
the names of Wm. Lloyd Garrison and
others are on its list of honorary mem
bers."
Here we have traced the "apostolic
succession" of a sect founded by Rossean
and Voltaire, the preachers of which were
called by all Christendom thirty years
ago, the "apostles of Satan." And we
behold New England puritanism reaching
forth its hand and giving Christian fellow
ship to these apostles of Satan in France ;
these " friends of the blacks,' who qaused
the massacre of all the whites in St. Do
mingo, and soliciting their aid in bringing
about a like fate to all the whites in the
Southern States. Fearing, however, that
the cloven foot would be discovered, and
the "apostles of Satan" seen in their true
character, she sends Garrison to England,
to bring George Thompson, a beloved
follower of Cromwell, to America, to
preach the same doctrines of negro equal
ity, and thus clothethem with the garb of
Christianity. This is the pious puritan
from England, whose great friendship for
the Southern -negroes was manifested in
such a way as.to compel the President to
call- the attention of Congress to the
"painful excitement produced in the
South by the attempts to incite the slaves
Ito insurrection, and to produce all the hor
rors of a servile war,"
And. New England puritanism heaped
its curses on the President who arrested
progress" towards the destruction
of the White people of the South in 1835,
as it . new curses the President who would
stay the further distraction of his own
race at. the hands , of the apostles of Satan
from France, leagued with the puritanism
of England and America, fur the over.
; prow of the liberties of the white race
Ad the erection of a negro monarchy on
the ruins of freedom.
The -conspiracy will be fully exposed in
this history.
—The silvans attribute the dead; and
rainy weather to the gradual approach of
the golf stream to our coast, it, being 100
miles nearer than it was five years ago.
MONTROSE, PA., TUESDAY, MAY 26, 1868.
THE R_,.MIOND RING
It was the night before Christmas.
Dark and over clouded, with white
gusts of drivineenow, and raw air, which
insinuated itself Into every fold of the
most volumnious")wrappings. A night
which was uncomfiiktable enough to the
rich, but dreadful to the , poor.
Mr. Almayne did lint observe the little
blue nosed boy, crouching in the angle
formed by the brilliantlfuluminated plate
glass window, as he sprang from his car
riage and went slowly aoross the pave
ment into the bright, thronged shop.
How should he? But little Ben Morrow's
eyes, eager with the sickly light of star
vation, took in every detail of the rich
man's equipage, and his purple fi ngers
clasped one another tighter, as he looked.
"Oh I" he thought, "how nice it must
be to be rich—to have cushioned carria
ges, and big red fires, and mince pies ev
ery day Oh ! I wish I were rich !"
And Ben shrank closer into his corner,
as the wind fluttered his thin, worn gar
ments, and lifted the curls, with freezing
touch, from his forehead.
Nor did Mr. Almayne observe him
again, when he entered his carriage, draw
ing on his expensive fur gloves, and lean
ing among the velvet cushions, with a
sigh scarcely less earnest than little Ben's
had been.
The child's ideal of " big red fires"
would have been quite realized if he could
have seen the scarlet shine that illumined
Mr. Almayne's luxurious drawing rooms
that night, glowing softly on gilled ta
bles, alabaster vases, and walls of rose and
gold. While just before the genial flame
the pale widower sat, thoaghtfully watch
ing the flickering ipires of green ancre
amethyst light, and very lonely in his
splendid solitude !-
" I wonder what made think of home
just then," he mtirniured, idly tapping his
toot upon the velvet rug. " I wonder
what alchemy conjured up the old house
under the walnut trees, and the broken
bridge, where the willow branches swept
the water—the bridge where little Clara
Willis used to sit and study her lessons,
while I angled vainly for the fishes that
never would bite 1 How lovely she was,
that golden haired girl, with her blue
veined forehead, and her dark, downcast
eyes ! I was very much in love with
Clara Willis in those hew_ aria girl .4+air-a
enould like to know on wnat shore the
waves of time have cast her little barque
—it is not often that a person one has
known in lang syne vanishes so entirely
and utterly from one's horizon. Poor
Clara—what glittering air palaces we
built in the future—how solemnly we
plighted our childish troths ? And when
I came back, with the "fortune" on
whose golden colonades oar fairy castle
of happiness upreared its pinnacles—she
was gone. And Mary was a good wife to
me, and a true—but she was not Clara
Willis !"
As the thought passed through his
brain, he instinctively glanced down at
the finger upon which he wore the be
trothal gift. of his dead wife—the ring
was done !
"Lost—it can't be lost," he murmured
to liimse'f, trying to think when and where
he bad last observed it. "Can it have
dropped from my finger without my
knowledge? I must notify the police at
once, and have it advertised ! Poor Ma
ry's ring—l would not lose it for twice
its value, and that would be no mean
sum !"
It was a narrow and murky little street,
with here and there a dim lamp flaring
feebly through the white obscurity of
driving snow, but little Ben Morrow knew
every one of its warped flag stones by
heart, and ran whistling down the alley
way of a tall, weather stained building,
undaunted by wind or tempest.
"See, sis, what a jolly glove I've found!"
he ejaculated, diving suddenly into a oar.
row doorway and coming upon a tiny
room, only half lighted by a dim kerosene
lamp, beside which sat a woman busily at
work. " Hallo 1 Is the fire out 1"
" Wrap this old shawl around you,
Ben," said the woman, looking up, with a
smile that partook more of tears than
mirth, " and you won't mind the cold so
much. Every coal is gone, and I can't
buy any more until I am paid for these
caps. Did you sell any matches ?"
"Not two papers," sighed the boy. "I
was so cold, Clara--I couldn't go round
to the houses!"
" Well, never mind, Benny," she said,
cheerfully. " Sit close to me, dear—we'll
keep each other warm. Oh, Benny, I
should like to have given you urnice whole
coat for Christmas I"
"Don't cry, sis, said the boy, leaning
his head against her knee. " Didn't you
give me your shawl for a comforter, only
I lost it that windy day. You're just as
good and sweet as you can be, Clara, and
I love you just as well as if you were my
whole sister instead of only half a one!'
She smiled through her tears. ,
" What was it about a glove, Ben ?"
He sprang suddenly up as if remember
ing.
" A gentleman dropped it in the street.
Iran after the carriage, but it went too
fast for me tocatch up. Isn't it nice, sis ?"
Very, Ben."
She drew the fur glove abstractedly on
bet chill heed, sad looked tit the rich,
dark fur.
" Why, Ben, what's this ?"
For her touch had come in contact with
something in the little finger of the glove
and she drew it out. Even by the dim
light of the lamp she saw the myriad
sparkling fascets of a dia.nond ring !
"The gentleman must. have drawn it off
with his glove," she said, while Ben stood
by, in open mouthed surprise and delight.
"Ben, this is very valuable—we ought
to return it to the owner at once."
" But how can we, if we don't know
who he is ?"
" It will be advertised, dear, every ef
fort will be used to recover so valuable a
jewel. To morrow morning you must ask
the newsman to lend you a paper for five
minutes, and we will look at tile advertise
ments."
"Sister," said Ben Morrow, under his
breath, "is it very valuable? Is it worth
a hundred dollars ?"
" More than that, Ben—why ?"
" Oh, Clara," he sobbed, burying - Ms
face in her lap," a hundred dollars would
be so nice? I wish it wasn't wrong to
keep it I"
Clara did not answer—she only smooth
ed down her little brother's tangled curls,
and he never knew how bard it was for
her to keep back her own tears.
Mr. Almayne was walking impatiently
up and down his long, glittering suite of
rooms in the Christmas. brightness of the
next day's noon, when his portly foot
man presented himself,.like a respectable,
motionless statue in the doorway.
" Well Porter."
" There's a young person and a little
boy down stairs, sir, about the advertise
ment."
" Ask them to walk in, Porter."
Porter glanced dubiously at the velvet
chairs and Wilton carpet.
They're very shabby and muddy, sir."
" Never mind, show them in."
Porter departed, by no means pleased,
and in a minute or two threw open the
door and announced :
"The young person and the little boy f"
"Be seated, said Mr. Almayne, courte
ously. 'Can you give me any informa
tion in regard to the ring I haye lost ?"
Ben Morrow's sister was wrapped in a
worn shawl, with a thick, green veil over
her face. She held out the fur glove, and
within it a little paper box, from which
blazed the white tire alba
Drotner rcuna it, in tm glove,
last night, sir," she said, in a low, timid
voice. - "The initials—M. A.—correspond
with your advertisement, so we brought
it at once to the street and number speci
fied."
Mr. Almayne opened his pocket book.
"I have promised a liberal reward," he
said, taking out a fifty dollar bill. " Will
this be sufficient ?"
Clara Willis threw back her veil.
" We are very poor sir," she said, 'but
not so poor as to take a reward for doing
our duty. Thank you, all the same. Come
Benny !"
Henry Almayne's cheek bad grown
very white as he saw the golden braids
and clear blue eyes of his sweet first love
beneath her faded black bonnet.
"Clara I' he exclaimed, 'Clara Willis !
is it, possible that you do not know me I"
She turned at his wild exclamation, and
gazed fixedly at him, with dawning rec
ognition.
" Are you—can it, be that you are Hen
ry Almayne ?" she faltered, only half cer
tain of the correctness of her conjecture.
He took both her hands tenderly and
reverently in his; if she had been a duch
ess, the action could not have been more
full of courtly respect.
"Clara do not go yet, he said pleading
ly. 'Let me. unravel this strange enigma
of our two lives Oh, Clara If this
Christmas Day has • indeed brought me
the sunshine which never yet irradiated
my life, I shall bless it to my dying day!"
The low sun flamed redly in the west,
before Mr. Almayne's carriage—the very
one which Benny bad so ignorantly ad
mired the night before—was summoned,
to carry Clara and her brother, for the
last time, to their squalid home. For ere
the New Year dawned above the wintry
earth, Clara was married to the man who
had courted her under the green willows
that over hung the wooden bridge, ten
years ago. It was a very short engage
ment—and yet it was a very long one f
And little Benny Morrow, basking in
the reflected sunshine of his half sister's
happiness, found out what it was to be
rich !
liar Mrs. Sulgge went one day to the
parson to complain of her husband's ag
gravating temper, and the abusive epithets
he applied to her when be was in a passion.
The worthy Dominie said, " You should
not reply in a similar strain, but use words
of loving kindness, for by so doing, 'you
heap coals of fire upon his head.' " The
fair lady, to his astonishment, replied,
"'Taint of no use, Dominic : the other
night I poured a kittle of boiling water
over his head, but it only made him mad
der. I guess the coal of fire wo'd'ut have
any more effect than the boiling water.
—Speaking of the charge that Chief
Justice Chase bad left the radical party
Mrs. Cady Stanton says : "Why not fol•
low a good man with the Democratic par
ty, rather than, with Republicans, help to
place a drunken soldier in the Mite
House?"
Terrific Convulsions of the Sandwich
Islands.
HoNougur, Hewett, April 15. i
Via San Francisco, May 8, 1888.
The greatest volcanic eruption recor
ded in modern times has occurred on the
Island of Hawaiis, one of the group of
Sandwich Islands. For some time past it
had been observed that the crater of Ki
lauea was very active, and that a new
volcano bad been formed. The volcano
is the well known Mauna Loa, and it has
an elevation, of 13,758 feet. On the 27th
of March last the new eruption commenc
ed, and has continued up to the latest
dates. During twelve days there have
been two thousand shocks of earthquake,
followed by fearful tidal waves which
have destroyed entire villages and caused
the death of one hundred persons.
For fifteen days the district Kona has
been the centre of motion for the great
eruption. A gigantic stream of moten la
va is flowing from the summit of Manna
Loa across the lands of Kakuka and Poa
kini to the sea of Kaaluala landing. The
slope and part of the summit of a moun
tain fifteen hundred feet high have been
lifted up bodily by the earthquake and
thrown over the tops of trees for a dis
tance of over one thousand feet. At Wa
hoinee a creek has opened, extending from
the sea. To as high as the eye can reach
on the slope of Mauna Loa the lava is from
one to seven feet in width, and au erup
tion of melee clay was thrown from the
side of the mountain between Lyman's
and Richardson's, a distance of two miles
and three quarters, with a width of one
mile, in the short space of three minutes.
This terrible eruption overwhelmed hou
ses, persons and hundreds of animals, and
scattered death and destruction wherever
the clay fell.
A column of smoke seven and four fifths
miles in altitude was thrown out of Man
na Loa, obscuring everything for miles
around, save where the bright spiral pil
lars of fire flashed upwards from the
mouth of the volcano. The sight was one
of the grandest but most appalling ever
witnessed and almost defies description.
The immense tidal waves came rushing
in with so great a height that they swept
over the tops of the cocoanut trees on the
Kona coast.
Retina. Altia dualtee"ct, --Akewas
tiu e, whim tooe mace on the 2a of
April, no living creature could stand tin
for a moment. Immense bodies of earth
were tossed about at great distances, as
if they were feathers wafted from point to
point by a storm of wind. Not one stone
stands upon another as before in this dis
trict. Immense precipices which have
hitherto been a terror to all who have
seen them, have been levelled to the earth
and where the ground was formerly smooth
and unbroken for miles around the earth
has been rent asunder and upheaved, for
ming gigantic chasms and precipices.
The entire topographical appearance of
the country has been so completely chang
ed that even those who have lived in the
desolated district all their lives cannot
recognize it or point out localities with
which they were formerly familiar. Luck
ily, this part of the island is but sparsely
populated, and the lands are not in gen
eral cultivation.
The loss of life as far as can be ascer
tained is as follows: In the village of
Palinka, thirty three ; at Mokaka, thir
teen; at Pulalna, four; at Honah, twenty
seven; at Vanilo, three. This makes a
total of eighty persons kilted as reported
up to the present time. There are ru
mors about that the casualties considera
bly exceed one hundred, but nothing defi
nite on this matter has been received.
All of the unfortunate persons who have
lost their lives were native Hawaiins, no
white person being killed or in any way
injured.
At the present moment the entire group
of islands is enveloped in dense black
smoke, and the indications are that Man
na Loa is still in active volcanic eruption.
Mauna Loa---Its previous Volcanic
Eruptions.
The account of the recent terrible vol.
canic eruption in the island of Hawaii, one
of the Sandwich group, imparts interest to
the subjoined history of the previous
eruptions of the volcano :
Mauna Loa, or Roa, as it is frequently
called, has been well known to the world
for many years past as one of the most
active and terrible volcanoes in the world.
Situated in the centre of the island of Ha
waii, one of the group ofSandwicb Island,
it gradually ascends until it reaches an al
titude of 13,758 feet, as was ascertained
during the exploring expedition under
Lieut. Wilkes, of the United States Na
vy. This great height appears to have
been attained by accretion, and, indeed
the entire island of Hawaii is formed of
the lava which has been, from time to
time, thrown from the craters or the vol
cano.
The lower parts of the mountain are
covered with forests and are cornparative
ly fertile, but after reaching a certain
height everything becomes suite barren,
and nothing but lava mixed with itiy and
hardened almost to the consisteno7 of
flint forms the summit. This gives it a
smooth and, as it is quite round at the top,
domelike appearance. The mountain is
covered with craters. The principal one,
known by the name of 'Nokia a-wee-woo,
IVOLUME XXV, NUMBER 22
I is some 15,000 feet in length by 8,000 in
width. Its depth varies from 470 to 780
feet, and the' bottom is traversed with
ridges from 10 to 50 feet high, alternating
with deep chasms and smooth beds of bar.
dened lava. These latter ire covered
with fissures, from which ascend thin
clouds of steam and smoke. Another
formidable, though smaller, crater is called
Pohakuonanalei. Thesetwo craters, how
ever do not seem to haVetaken part in
the eruption reported in the telegraphic
dispatch. The one that was, or is in so.
tion is the great crater of Kilauea. This
is three and a half miles in length, two
and a half in width, and 1,044 feet in
depth, and stands at an elevation of over
4,000 feet above the level of the sea. It
is completely surrounded by a wall of
hardened lava, ranging from 600 to 2,000
feet in width and 660 feet in depth. At
the bottom of the crater is a lake of liquid
fire continually surging and giving to the
clouds above a beatiful silvery look in the
day and a bright red at nigt. In January
1841, the lake overflowed, and Lieut.
Wilkes estimated that during one night
15,000,000 cubic feet of lava were die
charged, and nearly 200,000,000 cubic feet
were discharged from the small pit in one
day. in 1855 another terrible eruption
occurred, which lasted thirteen months,
and covered an area of 300 square miles
with lava. In January, 1850, the last and
(until the present one) the greatest erup
tion took place, three new craters being
formed by the convulsion. The eruption
lasted nearly ten mouths, and was of terri
ble grandeur. Streams of lava were burl
ed from the craters to a height of from
200 to 500 feet, and after they had fallen
traversed a distance of five miles where
the liquid fire flowed into the sea, driving
back the waters. Those who witnessed
the meeting of the two elements describe
the scene as one of awful splendor. Quite
a number of shocks of earthquake accom
panied this eruption.. It would appear as
if the present eruption exceeded in mag
nitude and terrific grandeur anything that
ever preceded it., and this would make it
more violent in every respect than the re
cent eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
A Murderer three times Sentenced to
be Rung.
In March last ati thEt • • •
0.4 Ad/ lhrrta n • io• s•I s )0
yer and Terminer and the Supreme
Courts at Poughkeepsie, which condemn
ed Thomas Fitzgerald to death for the
murder of Ellen Hicks at . White Plains, .
Westchester county, in August, 1866:
Fitzgerald had twice before been sentenc
ed to death for this murder, his life hav
ing been saved by appeals and stays of
proceedings. In view of the judgment of
the Court of Appeals, Judge Gilbert on
Monday sentenced the prisoner to bo
hanged on Friday, the 20th day of June
next. When the prisoner stood up to re
ceive the sentence, the only evidence of
emotion were a slight flush of the face
and a tremor of the lower lip. the was
then removed to his old quarters at the
White Plains Jail—whence be is certain
to go to the scaffold unless the Governor
interferes.
The circumstances of this murder are re
vived by the Poughkeepsie Eagle. "On
the 2d of August, 1866, five or sir soldiers
stationed at Throg's Neck proceeded to
a small town in Westchester county, and
made a call at a bakery there, kept by a
man named Eliot. While there an alter
cation ensued between Elliott and his sis
hors, which resulted in a fight - - during
I which Elliott's arm was broken. The sol
diers retired, but late in the evening re
turned to the scene, accompanied by
Thomas Fitzgerald, one of their comrades,
who was doing picket duty at Throg's
Neck. Elliott seeing them approach his
house concluded that trouble would en
sue, and prepared to vacate his premises.
By this time the party had surrounded
the house. Elliot seeing that his chances
were desperate, jumped out of the second
story window, in the rear, of the building,
his broken arm in a sling. Only nue of
the assailants was in the way. He grap
pled with Elliott, but getting the worst of
the fight Elliot made good his escape.
The soldiers turned to go off, when they
observed two young girls, about eighteen
years of age each, standing in the door of
a dwelling near by, watching the proceed
inv. One of the girls was Ellen Hicks.
She stood with her arm about the waist
of her companion, when Fitzgerald delib
erately raised his musket (the whole par
ty being armed) and fired, the ball pene
trating the body of Ellen Hicks, and' she
fell to the threhold a corpse." —Albany
Argus May 14.
—Ole Bull recently gnve a concert at
Washington for the benefit of the Lincoln
monument, but money enough was not ta
ken to pay the expenses of hall and adver
tisn*. Poor Lincoln's memory is below
par in Washington. It fares even worse
than his wife's old duds in New York and
Providence.
—A Young Indian Maid, visiting e
flouring mill in Winona, Minn., surreptit
iously got bold of the stencils and decors•
ted her white blanket with " Ellsworth's
choice" in bright red letters, after which
she strutted down street, to the borrow
of the aforesaie Ellsworth, who owns tha
mills and who is a bachelor.