The agitator. (Wellsborough, Tioga County, Pa.) 1854-1865, October 12, 1854, Image 1
FOEHS BY WHITTIER. J 0. Whittier fifi-Joit ifrned a re# volume of foe mi etb«.poetw-”it^r < W»'***M e <n d PiWi v .-, ’ . ' I pray .for unbplicfi • r to hj ' *»f-flJmißaltotbefatofwsn.ef fIJmiBaltotbefatofwsn.efe 1 «Wt» ” i BibrßdWofd^ ! An 4 twardi imWit«» ■nadaHriJita ; • ; Of filirflkHfc efcwi n B hyrWl- • = . •Hfijf. (tya S wineJ?«d T s ky ; «|«te. ... , The beggar crouching at thehate, Thhli#r lOalhly’arfd Mri&r ' -t - Who<a eW of aeib beheld ifie Lord! O aacrfcd wflhiaidandaWptewfll fflst! „ Q. light and air of Palestine, ssg*tpi ! wiih' Hlallfr divine 1 ; O,'bear me .-thither-! ■ Vit inb'loolt'. £>d>Bttoa’a.sooli and Hadron** htoqh-* and iy , Xjewewarel yralK, Jjefoce.l die! ■M®iJhUlhie hold »»d northern pight WdahPmeft before lb»< Orient light i ■ And/wetby Herman*! dewned'ralrp ■ , JUg chilihood'i frith revive agate!" Thus spake my frlemb-oae autumn day, Where the still river slid away as, and above the browd Hcd curtains of the shut down. Then said I,—lor I could nol brook The route appealing of hia loot* — 0 I, too, am weak, and faith u? small, And blindness hpppenelh unto all Tel sometimes glimpses on my flight, c Through present wrong tho eternal right; And, Btcp by step, since time began, 1 ace the steady gain of mam That all of good the past hath had Remains to mete our own timeg]ad,— Our common dally life divine, And every land a Palestine. Thou weariest of thy present stale; What gain to thee time's hobesl dale? The doubter now perchance had been As High Priest or as PilaleNhen ' l What thought Chorazin's scribes ? what faith In Him had Nain and Nazareth Of the few followers whom He Ire, One sold Him—all forsook and dec O, friend I we need nor rook nor sanu Nor storied stream of Morning-Uano , The heavens are glassed in Merrimack— What more could Jordan render back ! \ We lack but open eye and ear \ To find Die Orient's marvels here ; The still small voice of autumn's hush, Yon maple wood the burning bush For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold— Slaves rise up men ; (he olive waves With roots deep set in battle graves! iPhrough the harsh noises of our day, A low sweet prelude finds its way . Through clouds of doubt and creeds ol fear, A hght is breaking cairn and clear. Thai song of Love, now low and far, JKre long shall swell from alar to star — That light, the breaking day, which lips, The goldcd-spired Apocalypse!” SELECT TILE. MILLIE LEE. BY CLEMEST E. BABB. “ There,” said a friend to me one day, “ (here goes a heroine.” I looked around bm seeing only a little girl, trudging barefoot along the road ; with a basket almost as large a? berseffjT turned my eyes with a glance of inquiry to the speaker. He an swered it by pointing to the unromantic ob ject just described. “ I mean her, Millie Lee. You think that she is only a poor shoeless,.slockingless child; but I tell you she is a heroine, with a nobler heart than ever beat in the bosom of Joan of Arc, or Margaret Anjou.” My friend was not accustomed to talk at random; here my curiosity was excited, and 1 drew from him as we sat in the shade to rest, this history of Millie Lee. Five years ago there came to our village, s laborer named Thomas Lee. He was idle and intemperate, his wife feeble, and heart-broken, their children so pale, so hun gry, and so sickly looking, that it made my heart ache to look at them. They had been born beneath the shadow of a father's neg jeci—a mother's hot tears had fallen on their faces as they drew nourishment from tier breast, and lay upon her breaking heart. I low could they ke like other children 1 On the desert shrub, every new leaf tells by its premature seatness, of the arid sand in which ns roots are withering. Hence those chil dren never played ot smiled. They crept about so.still and sad —they ste their hard dry crusts, with such a melancholy look, that you would have thought that their, home must have been a house of deaih. And so r afterwards was. Their father would he ior hours as one dead I—dead1 —dead to all the bcaulies of nature, to all of the world, to all the nobility of nature, that he was burning to n cinder of everlasting re’ morse, wnh ihe fires of rum. Ofien have I accosted those children, crouching togeiher by the door of their home, and tried to draw from Idem u smile; 1 gave them lood when 1 knew they were very hungry, nnd they would Ihnnk me sweetly ; but not a glenm of sunshine would pass over iheir faces. They "ere grateful, but could not be gay. We tried 10 do someilimg for his family, bm the wretched fattier would not let ally uf tnem leave him, nnd would squander for rum, or destroy (or spile, whatever we gave them, lie hud a greal deni of maudlin independence, and our kindness he scornfully refused as an official mierference wiib his affairs. Hence we could only carry food lo his starving wife and children while be was at the dram shop. Al last Mrs. Lee died. Never saw I such a scene belore, and God in mercy save me from overseeing I lie like again! Lee was rolling on ihe floor, too djrunk to understand what was going on, or even to rise. But his tongue was' loose, and he accompanied the groans of his wife, and sobs of his children, with snatches o( ribald songs end curses that made my blood curdle in my veins L i need not dwell upon the funeral, We managed to keep Lee sober until- his pnor wife was under the ground. But be seemed to have little feeling; he went to the churph and to the grave, like a men stunned or in a dream. We left the family at night; with everything necessary for their condor*, in tending to provide homes for the cmldren the next day. / In (he morning, having made our arrange meats, we went early to the cabin. We — _JL_ . k.«ffiw..M ‘Mi/rfifU'm.} Af?l~. •I m:] i \ ?.„TTt:Q vL/it. f.v.f Hri)* I '' J' .V? S'uUh.imh .m U «w».J ifti.i ~.tl i.-U^or ,u.'jni< > ~ t . r;v:.-. ■■■<:.., 1 ijg? HU.Ji.,I. Un' -in e-w- M. H. C08»> EDITOR: tieaVtfis wHtoWgp disced Bf«lio^y, curseS ; "a : creatini 'W¥ ll .^leflo,| aM&eW mfetf’WgWh tfikpjker iti_ fits’ chlltjreiT' into' oriV 'Cbrher, ; ntfj3“ Seftffftf'tfcej younger pneb sfeeiTMj!liei’cov6ri6g’(heitj ; ‘ajsj a fieri cdtfeVa ftirfeioou, and meetlrig(}ib eye; of Ijef father i VeprfiaQbi 'ifidsadiidsa ihatodriridn as'fie Was,.he'quiiled| benefit "if.' , Alft? .wp - hiiii goHs"' ; awayjfie. night before, the fetched nifio UJ J if&tej)T>nii to' dfifi pf _tbp&,~titt/ drips, \iei'e l ‘tliey r ‘ fcoMld sell rum to a grinding dkeiefbn If jt had'drily three centa in ils Mrip. the clothes ral, fid prepared hftrisel/fbr ifip Ape tie 1 we witnessed. Having him, arid' released tfie trembling orphahs,we Insisted Upon takifig their) all. away. saidwomighttake Sally, and G'eprgy,and the'baby; blif'Jshb would aiay, &r L f aJnce motlier was dead, there was nobody else to look after father. But Millie, he Will beat yhu, he will kill you 1” “ Maybe he ivill, sir,” she answered, “ but yet 1 must not leave him. He gets drunk', 1 know, and then he'is cross; but still, he is my father.” I looked with wonder on that, feeble child! I thought of all .she had suffered from that bru'ol man, who riever smiled even'on her childish prattle. I thought of all she had yet to fear from him alone in that cabin, and fell that no recorded instance of female he roism exceeded heps. We reasoned, and we pleaded ; but Millie was firm. We were obliged to leave her, but with numerous sad forebodings. We heard nothing from her until (he nekt clay. Then she run Up to see thb baby, which was at my house. 1 asked her, “how are you gelling on at home now, Millie ?” “ Pretty well, I thank you,” was her reply. “ Did your father gel drunk last night?” She tried to keep back the tears as she answered: “ Ho came home very cross, Air.” “ Did he beat you, Millie 1” “ Oh, not much. He only struck me twice, and once it was nothing but his hand.” “ And the other time? yes, I see, it was with the poker, and he made a deep gash in your head ! Y*nu must not slay there Millie.” “0, sir, it did not hurt me much, and when he saw ll)e blood, it seemed to sober him a little, and he threw down the poker, and told me to my face and go to bed. And after I was in bed, he sat by the fire, and muttered to himself, and by whal I heard that ho felt sorry because he struck me, and I dnn’Uhink he will do so again.” Poor, patient, loving, hopeful Millie Lee 1 She kissed the baby, and hurried hack to get some supper for her father. That night 1 was out late. I returned by Lee’s cabin about eleven o’clock. As 1 ap proached?! saw a strange looking object cow ering under the low eaves, A cold rain was fulling. I drew near, and there was Millie asleep, wet to the skin. Her father had driven her out soma hours before ; she had lain down to listen to the heavy snoring of his drunken slumbers, 'so that she might creep back to bed. But before she heard it, nature became exhausted, and she fell into a troubled sleep, with the rain drops pattering on her. 1 tried to lake her home with me, but no, true as a martyr to his faith, she struggled from my arms, and returned to the now dark and silent cabin. Things went on so for weeks and months. But at length Lee became less violent even in his drunken fits, to his self-denying child ; and one day when he awoke from the heavy slumber of a debauch, and found her preparing breakfast for him, and singing a sweet childish song, he turned to her and withja lone almost ten der said : ” Millie, what makes you slay with me!” •« Because you are my father, and 1 love you." “You-love me!" repealed the wretched man ; “ love me !” lie looked at his bloai ed limbs, his soiled and ragged clothes; “ Love me,’ he s'ill murmured. “ Millie, what makes you love me? lam a poor drunkard ; everybody else despises me. Why don’t you!” “ Dear father,’’ said the little girl with swimming eyes, “ mother taught me lo love you ; and every night she comes from hea ven, and stands by my little bed, and says: “ Millie, don’t leave your father; Millie, love your fother. He will get away from that rum-fiend one of these days, and then how happy you will be." Lee buried his head in his (rands, and tears, the first for a long time, trickled thro’ his fingers. He said no more; but having eaten hi* breakfast wont out: That night he came, home sober—the first lime for many years. Ho gave her a dollar that he had earned, nnd talked with her kindly, until it was time to go to bed. O! how light and glad was (ho heart of Millie Lee. For hours she lay awake and wept for joy. After she fell asleep, the an. gels came to her in her dreams ; and.O, how sweetly her mother smiled. Next morning she exerted her childish skill, to prepare a nice breakfast for her father. She sang and prattled with a lighl-hearlednessshehad nev. er known before; and Lee gazed with some thing like a parent’s pride and fondness on her. Ho went out to work, and nr night late at night, after life poor child had wailed for long—tong hours—he reeled home drunk. 0, what a bitter disappointment. It almost crushed her: But the angela -camo again and whispered,- “Courage, love never faileth,” hope never feilelh," and that night she was repaid by the early return of her father in his right mind; We learned afterwards that the rumseller, when tee tried to reform, would waylay hint J “ As , ‘^<»X»ib!« ,! ol?7%fifj&Brtp u w , TaStflWlWHy«j9 or.snßP)b!?i<.t •< t , * ..: •>» »jy}a4m ; L . , . ,’, J,, ■„- I «>• T ** ‘C« wtfftw ■■intimu.Lo 1.1 x%r wyiryggirafTg yrw r -owning ft<)DaT'liiftiKprti,ifl oji rsnticiiJtißk hack ■o,',the.)lien.<of-s death.,-?., IMfiqrjenapiw, Couq<| ,Wra,l».»<Jiildiyydcand-Ciil..j Qthqtwiaeifip' -ho;.«dDldi*eiurn;honie.« aober-man-wadded falhervlobis-motherlesa i.andioving ..chili Hew phiientmandcheerfulhesswcrei unsealing ihe'foUnlains'bf-hisheml.ondhadlberalbeen no' human- 'spider 16 ssprhad aenare- for . his would ihed'havrbeen restored. Bui Blaßi eveV 'Bnd Bnon, ihemeehfesweretoo eliHlftiliy •Wen-afcd <oo>Birong. ; ••-■ ; ’ • %< And is he still a drunkard I ?’' tasked; ■ ; Wait r a tale 1 ishe'arly told. Millie' heard'odd' 13ay, ; of Mh ’Darldhd, the eloijtiebt /dfoiifhed 1 drunkard' of -Westvillc. At on’Cb ihetoohcTuded that hecbuld stive her Ihtfof. ;'’,ss c yHri|mjt !| n' word 10 nby opcr/sfie set off, as sport as .her fatherhnd'gonptp fits Work, hud'walked.’(He whole si* 'rtilleg to Wesiyille. Sliesolighloutlhe lecturer; she told him Her 'artless touching ' story. He came back with her, and took his seat in the cabin, and sent Millie to 1 bring'tier"'father, from his work. Mr, Darland" knew how to accost him, how to advise and encourage him, for he bad gone Ifirougb tfio same fiery ordeal and fully conquered the appetite, for rum.. While he, (Washingtonian and dmnk ardytalked, Millie listened and prayed, thought she beard a rustling as of angels’ wings in the cabin,, and os the sunbeams played upon the wall, she imagined it was her mother's smile of love and hope ! That night her father signed the pledge, and by the. help of kind friends, he has kept it to this day. It is now six months since that memora ble night, apd though they live in the same cabin still, and are poor, there is not a hap pier, nobler heart, than beats in the breast of Millie Lee. What do you think now of my heroine? “ She deserves a higher name than that” I answered. “Sheis an angel!” And as I looked at the delicate child, carrying her basket along the dusty road, I thought how many an embryo cherub may be trudging along the paths of human poverty and sedrn, and how We shall wonder at the revelations there are yet to be, wjien the tinsel shall fall from the false greatness of the earth, and its true nobility shall risejto shine forever in the holy light of heaven.’ PTES OF TRIFEL. From a Pamphlet timed by the Emigrant Aid Com party. “Ifoles of A Trip np Kansas Hlv er, Including Observations on the Soil, Climate, Scenery, Ac. fir- Geo. S. Pass. The difficulty of navigating the Smoky hill with a stern-wheel steamer of such length as the ‘Excel, 1 prevented Cnpt. Baker from ven turing so far up as he otherwise would. A shorter side-wheel steamer, of very light draught, adapted to the navigation of these interior rivers, will soon be put on the trade. We left Fort Riley on the return trip, on Wednesday morning, end came down ‘kite ing.' Passing rapidly in review the splendid scenery of which we have attempted to make hasty memoranda, we entered the Missouri about daylight next morning. Before concluding these brief notes, it must be remarked —in reference to the productions and climate of Kansas Terriory—that there are, no doubt, superior hemp lands in its cen tral and western portions; but Nature unmis takably indicates stock raising as the proper and most profitable occupation for the far mers who shall settle there. In the great Kansas Valley below Pattawatomie, and in the eastern region along the Missouri, there are some of the finest hemp lands in the world. VV heat, corn, oats, and vegetables, grow as well there as in any of the Western States. Theos in the Plane Purchase, immediately east of the Missouri River, who attend to fruit growing, say that their apples, peaches, plums, die., cannot bo surpassed anywhere; we can see no reason why as much may not be said of the same crops in the regions across the river. The winters are generally dry and pleas ant, and the roads fine; but little snow falls, and this lays on the ground only (or a short time. Sometimes, however, there are verv ‘cold spells’ of weather, but they are not of long duration. For inslnnce, the masons in Pnrkville, Platte Co., Mo., quarried and laid stone last winter with but little interruption on account of the weather. Common entile, coifs, trjules, and sheep, enu be wintered on blue-grass, provided the pastures are nllnwad to grow up in the Fall, and the slock have a little corn or liny occasionally. February and March are frequently quite pleasant, and much plowing can be done in the mellow dry loam of the Kansas Valley. Tke summers are quite warm and long) the thermometer (Fahr.) not unfrequently marking up to near one hundred degrees in the shade. The high prairies, however, are generally fanned by cool refreshing breezes; and as we ascend the branches of the Kansas from Fort Riley, there is a rapid rise to a Cooler regiorf; In May and June there is a superabundance of ruin ; but the latter end of summer and fall ere generally dry. Having been across the Territory many limes in course of the Inst fifteen years, we give these remarks as the result of our ex perience." It> regard to productiveness of the soil, and the most favorable lime for immigrating to Kansas, attention is directed to the follow ing Letter, written by a gentleman well known -to the Secretary, and upon whose opinion re liance may be placed. f Independence, Mo, July 17,1854- Dear Sir, —In my wanderings to and fro in this region, I find myself, to-night, in this pleasant town, where "are sortie fine buildings, good land, and enterprising citizens. ’ T -Thd G6uri’hbWe' l i %hufi^diih I ttle dMr¥bf Tagti/W truly hp I %l6kaWthulTdiiffi,l‘ lJ .'l i h%W! : irb kft® WkidpfhoVelsj'ai Os a gtoai (jwfef ({?!! IwllsesJ’&o. i (0 jtpwh, f .'fiiei land, •J?d bqaufifgl, qind ( yjelds,.'mjpieflfo,. .of M.jhai can.be jaised ftijihet .Ifnited .Siqles. ve sprnp of the corn was so tall that the tallest man sitting Omthe tallest' hoibe in 'Massachusetts wonljl be uppble tpreaefi, lha .top, and, jbat, |ooi when U .haßguslponjmeppsd (b hassle,put* ana before the stalk has cptppjeiep |IS-grp»lK. | am told that wfien.ihe cprn.is har,vestod, only. the,tallest of the laborers cah reach pomc of the com without breaking down, the stnjlts, ■Tugging from lhe present appearance .of the corp fie re, and of lhalin Illinois, when I pas? sed through that Stnto, the ycld.of this will be nearly or quite twice as muoh as that.. In ftjet, 1 never saw any thing lifie -the corn here, nor “ dreamed of it in my philosophy.” A very intelligent and systematic Belgian far mer, in Kansas, a few days since, gave me' some of his experience in farming, with hired slaves for his laborers. According to his ex perience, last year, which was not so good as some, on account of tho dry weather, he will have this Fall, when his harvesting is done, as follows: Cornpciglity.five acres, with sixty-five bushels to the acre, at 50cls. a bushel, amounting t 0.., 33,763 Wheat 10 acres, 30 bushels lo tlio acre, at 81,00, making 300 Oats, 36 acres, 40 bushels to the acre, at $3O, making ■• •• 913 Timothy gross, 13 acrca, 3 tons to the aero, 810,00, making •. 340 Clover, 2J acres for the swine Potatoes, 1 acre, 300 bushels, at 40c.,mak’g 80 These products amount to $3,594. In ad dition to this he has 150 swine, which, when ready for the knife, will 230 lbs. each, if as good last year, and which at six cents a pound, will come to $2,070. Deducting 18 bushels of corn at 50 cents a bushel for each hog, will leave $720; which, added to the first, makes $4,314. The work on his farm, including the garden, general improvements, die., is done by five men, or 1 hired slaves, while the owner simply superintends it. From ten to fifteen hund red pounds of hemp to the acre is an average crop for this land, and the price the year past has been from 120 to 150 dollars a ton. Pumpkins, melons, ap pies, peaches, and fruit of all kinds, grow here in abundance ifplanted. Lei it be remembered that such, also, is the land in Kansas Territo ry ; for if isof the same general character. Lent be remembered that such crops as the above nre raised without a spoonful of ma. nure, and iluct I know. 1 have seen corn growing on land that has been planted for twenty years in succession, and there was no apparent difference between it, and the corn on new land. Also, let the New England farmers remembr, that to raiso from 60 to 80 bushels of corn to the uore here.no hoeing us required. The only 'work requisite after planting is to plow amongst it a few times, an’d such work ns “ weeding,” “ half hilling" is 'unknown. The price of this land is, for unimproved, from 25 to 40 dollars an acre ; and for improved land, from 40 to 100 dol lars. This is the price of all land bordering on the Territory for several miles south of the mouth of (he Kansas river, and it will soon be higher—for there is comparatively hut little such land -in the United Slates as this. The land all through the Kansas river val ley, in the Territory, is equally as good as that above described, and worth as much to the acre, and will produce as large crops. Is it to be wondered at, than, that every young man in Missouri, and every old man, also, who has not already a farm of the same quality of his own,should be rushing.into (he Territory to secure 100 acres, for $2,25 an acre, when the knows it will be worth from $25 to $lOO, the moment he gets his title T Rather is it not strange, and wonderful that, at feast, one hundred thousand persons from New Englacld, are not on their way to this garden of the world, at this moment T That such would be the case I have no doubt, if the good qualities of the land, climate, &0., were understood by them os well as they are by those in Missouri on the borders. The rush from this State to Kansas Territory, is not so mnch to secure a foothold for slatery there, ns to secure a fortune, notwithstanding what the newspapers say about it. No ; most nho go from here are young men, in want of farms ; and slavery, to say the least, is a secondary matter with them, if indeed, they are not opposed to its introduction into Kansas, which is certainly the case with ma ny. You ask, when is the best lime for New Englond men to goto Kansas 7 Unquestion ably the best time is this Fall. By coming now, they can select from the best of the land now open to settlement, as well as gel their cabins made, and their [and plowed ready, for Spring work can be done with comfort, such as splitting rails, fencing, building bouses, &c., during most of the season. Besides, if they wo’dhe represented in the first Territori al Legislature of Kansas, ihejt must be on the ground soon. At some other time, 1 will speak of the in ducement for mechanics to settle in Kansas nnd western Missouri. * * A youngster who had commertoed the. study of natural, philosophy, was one doy asked to mention the properties of heal, to which he replied: “ The chief property of heat is that it ex pands bodies while cold contracts them,.” “ Very good. Can you give me a fami liar example I” “ Yes, sir. In the summer, when it is hot, the day is long: while in when the day is cold, it becomes short.” m jpSn tbK f W -B fe;< | £ y K?jr \ *" -i" ll’ftnr. S'U .-.: *'<;>'••; ■••'J >A± mi',- r't,«-.• , -ijT Air'* •nOndastSatueday morning a young 1 lady named';Butsaii' 'Riasingeri 'lhen onttvisitto herbr6thery : neftr' Briokertville, thia'cdunty', attempted (d comntU suicide by outting-her throalWirhet razor. ' Whett disedvWecTshe was iha Joor in her rodn» with a doep gnsh-ia.her throat from which the blood waslpouriflgin Idrgeqebhlities,'hef '/Whole per^\a^u^ ereu. ’A’ messenger tV£s immediately .des patched Ipr DrV Sheaffer, who arrived’soon after add' dressed'the wound, with no hope, however, of her recovery. Previous to thp arrival of the doctor, shp modosighs for paper and ink, which being procur.ed, she wrote out, notwithstanding the great exliaOstion under which she labored, a history.-pf her wrongs, and tpa, motives which prompted her to. commit the act. From this statement, U Wduld nppear that some three years ago, she was enticed away front her home and seduced under a promise of marriage by a man named , agent either of the Pennsylvania Railroad, Compa ny or an officer on the Columbia Railroad. During this lime sho ascertained from, some source, that was a married man, al though he invariably contradicted it, still promising her marriage whenever.some mat ters connected with his business were finally settled. In this way he allayed her fears, and induced her to remain with him, introdu cing her everywhere os his wife, and living with her as such at whatever place they boar ded. Finally, however, growing weary of his victim—or having perhaps, imposed upon some other, he sought -an opportunity to quarrel with her — charging her with crime of a heinous nature, and threatening her with exposure and the severest penalties of the law, if she ever dared to importune him for support, or by any means sought to con nect his name with her own. Under these circumstances, friendless and Unprotected, abandoned and accused of crime by one for whom she gave up all—friends — relatives and home, she impiously, it may be, but still in anguish and bitterness of soul re solved to end her troubles and life together. The dark feature in the whole transaction, and one which stamps as a villain of the most infamous cast, is the crime which he intimated he would fasten upon her.— Ilia object in doing this was doubtless to ter rify her, and to prevent her from making any disclosures which might criminate him. In the statement which she made, under the circumstances before alluded to,she slates, that at three several times was she eneiente ; that look her to a female doctress named Shaw who resides at No, 110 North 16.sireet, Philadelphia, where abortion was produced through the agency of Mrs. Shaw, and that she was compelled tosiibmit through fear of . This is in substance the statement she madoj and which was subsequently placed in proper form and subscribed to before Esq., Erb. We learn that,a warrant has been is sued for the arrest of——, and it is to be hoped that he will soon be arrested, and made to suffer in connection with l|is vile as sociate Mrs. Shaw, the extreme penalty of the law for Iheir outrage and crimes. Miss Rtssinger has been represented to us, as a young lady of more than ordinary intel ligence, and highly prepossessing appearance, and her unhappy connexion with the wretch who ruined her, together with the act, which in all probability has ere this terminated her life, has caused a deep and universal gloom in the neighborhood where she long resided. The guilty party to the above transaction not having been arrested yet, we have thought proper to suppress his name for the present. —Lancaxter Examiner.- STOLEN CHILD RECOVERED. Some two years since a little girl about eight years of age was stolen from her pa rents in New York, and so effectually con cealed were the arrangements of the abduc tors that all efforts to reclaim the missing child proved abortive. Recently, however, suspicion was excited that the girl had been stolon by parlies in this city, who were bring ing her up ns their own ; nnd oecordingly, in company with a friend, the mother yesterday came hi'her, nnd commenced a search for the lost one, having first obtained thu aid of a mnle friend, well acquainted with the circum stances. The first thing to be discovered was the residence nf the kidnappers, and this af ter patient and protracted search nnd inquiry, being found out, the mother nt once proceeded to the premises, and knocking nt the door it was opened by her own daughter, between whom and the mother there was a mutual recognition. The woman of (he house, how ever, persisted in claiming tho child as hers, and threatened summary vengence upon any onu who should attempt to remove her. But the mother strong jh right, was not to be in timidated by threats, and accordingly, taking her daughter to the Market street depot, jumped in the cars, and a moment afler was beyond pursuit. The man and woman with whom the girl had,been living reside in Prospect street, and ,the former has hitherto born a fair reputation, beingforeman in one of the largest manufac turing estblishmenis in the city. Both are shid to have been furious at the discovery of their viltany ; the girl however, was over joyed at their discomfiture, and occompiamed her mother with eager pleasure. Newark Mercury, 23 i. ToMicy how’s all your folks f AH well, but Growler—he’s got the bow-wowel com ■plaint.” 'ThrweWtirrM^ alorv iSfdityh of.jjfen 'BrodWh'ttifd ft#Wa3iswf '|u«t ,|ep. minute*>rqre. Of ttoorM TO"wduH & d-lamp afifl mffviqll' her dwnatorjP, :ift thirteen iff^ermd^totiMetfiia( 7 me^T— ' 4^'1 ■-■■■’ aWfl ■ btimf; *® ns near as I cart-guess, ’(was welljm'Sh M hadn't fccWte! VVhfil w’ (nika^n’l ; tjtfidn’i Jkp ow no mdre’ji jtli& ’''timd; tbejfhM i'uchj.r about war; Twan’lno kse iq ipeaKftitii’SViildrfenj^for iheywoulJh’iknow j and, so after I, had Waited lil| I couldn’t Waft no longer,'t boiincfed put of l»d t anil dowp stairs" L went. ‘I Went tight intolhebdltery and raised the WifidowtoWards Mr. Blank’*, end says I " Mrtii In'a' ininttie I heard her jump qutdf bdd and raise the Win dow^andsaySahe! “ Why, Mrs. Soberly, what on earth’* the matter 1" “Matter I" says I—speaking low, bccaiise I didn’t want any body to hear— “ matter I Mrs. Blank,, do tell the if you have seen anything of my husband 1” 1 “ Your husband !’’ *ay* she, “ you didn’t suppose I’d got him, did youl” and. then speaking almost in a whisper, says the— “ Look here—w hat on earth does this mean? have you seen anything of my hus band ?” Then we both began to think some thing had happened, certainly ; and in about two minutes I was dressed and over to Mrs. Blank’s. Well, we concluded to atep over to Mr, Quiet’s, and start him out for a search : but we hadn’t got half way across the street, talking along, when we heard the Window shove up ; and Mrs. Quiet, says she, “ Who’s there ?” Says I, “ It’s me.” “ Well,*’ says she, “ do for pity’s sake, tell me if you have seen anything of my husband J" Now, wasn’t here a prelfy pickle T Well, to make a long story short, we went up that street clear to the school house, and back on t’other side, and not a woman did wo find, but what wits wondering t chat Had become, of her husband I Well, just as we got to our gate, who should we see there but my husband and Mr. Blank ! Mr. Soberly,” Says I, a little spunky, “ will you just tell me what this all means?” “ What it means,” says he, just as cool as if- nothing had happened—“ well, Mrs. Sober ly—ahem—l should be very glad to gratify you, if I could, but the truth is—ahem—that I don’t ‘ Know Nothing’ about It!” Well, from that time to this, I go to bed when 1 get ready, without asking any ques tions ; and if I find Mr. Soberly there in the morning, that’s all I care for—for I’d just give him to know that I’m as good a Know Nothing as he is. MHT Ps7Tgr7!T^nitrn~if 3. J .I feet h Some lime ago Considerable attention was directed to an ingenious invention fqr the con* veyance of packages through a tube, of any length, by the force of atmospheric pressure. At the present session of Congress the inven* tor, a Mr. Ithiel S. Richardson, presented a petition asking an appropriation to construct a line between Washington and Baltimore, to test the value of the invention. A special committee on the subject was appointed by the Senate, which, after due investigation,.has reported a bill authorising the construction of a line of this telegraph between the cities named, under the supervision of the Postmaster, Gen eral. It is now so late in the session, and there is so much other very important busi ness, befor Congress, that it is doubtful wheth er this bill can meet the consideration which it deserves ; but the experiment is well worth trying, as the plan has been examined by sci entific men and pronounced feasible. The electro-magnetic telegraph was tried between Washington and Baltimore in the same way as is proposed in this instance, and its useful ness being thus demonstrated, it was imme diately extended far and wide over the Union, Properly speaking, the pew invention is not a telegraph, but a machine for the conveyance of packages. The plan contemplates the transmission of the mails, and should it be adopted for that purpose, it will render the government independent of railroads, at lha same time that far greater speed is attained and all danger of mail robberies during trans mission avoided. Matt Ward arrived in Louisville one day last week. The next day The Courier chronicled the following incident; Whipping a School Mistreeg.~~ A. very esiimahle lady, a teacher in one of the city schools, was attacked by a woman with a club, yesterday evening, in the neighborhood of Jackson and Gray-sls. It appears that the woman felt herself aggrieved because the teacher had found it necessary to correct, in a gentle manner, a refractory child of Iho pugnacious woman, who- had been sent to learn something besides warfare, as she could doubtless have learned the savage arts at home. Thanks to a gentleman who inter fered at the lime, the insulted teacher was not seriously injured. We hand the name of this heroic woman (Mrs. Adkins)'down to posterity ns n name well worthy to be classed among those whose bantlings are su perior to (he rules of school discipline. Parsoit 8., was truly'a pious man, and at the long graces which always followed the meals, he and the whole family knell except the parson’s brother, who being o’er much fat, usually stood with his back to the table and overlooking the garden. Ono day, it was summer-lime, the parson being unusually favored, not appearing to notice the fidgetty movementslof his brother, who kept twisting about until finding no end to bis thanks, he broke in with — “ Cut it short, Parson, cut it short; thd cows are in the garden playing h-~li with the cabbages.” A parson having the misfortune to admit as a lodger into his house an individual of bad reputation named Bell, turned him out the other day with the remark, that he would never keep a bell in his house that panted hanging. A KWOW-HOTHINQ AT.ARwr ATMOSPHERIC TELEGRAPE