The agitator. (Wellsborough, Tioga County, Pa.) 1854-1865, December 22, 1859, Image 1
Terras of Publication. E yI0l« A COUNTY AGITATOR is published Thursday Morning, and mailed to subscribe '"S rery reasonable price of - *' ‘ TjS . ONE DOLLAR • PER ANNUM, ". fa advance. It is intended to notify every fifV* irhen the tcrm'for which he-hai paid shall by the Stamp—“ Time on the mar klTC f tbo last paper. The paper wiirthen h© stopped a farther remittance be received. By this ar- no man can be brought in debt to the f The Agitator is the Official Toper of the County, •*h a large and steadily increasing circulation reach into every neighborhood in the County. It is sent 'f : , L .f P'ixt'iye to any Post Office within the county Pi(i- but whoso most convenient post office may bo friii adjoining County. Holiness Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu 'BUSINESS directory. iAS. IOWREY & S. F. WIISOH, A' lIORNEYS A COUNSELLORS AT LAW, will attend the Court of Tioga, Pnttor and McKean cjuutier. [AV'cllsboro', Feb. 1, 1853.] S. B. BROOKS, ,TTORNE¥and counsellor at law " ‘ ■ ELK I. AX D, TIOGA CO. PA. ~ t i, t . nl ,iititude of Counselors there is safety,” — Bible. sept DK. W. VV. WEBB. OFFICE over Cone’s Law'Office, first door below Farr’s Hotel. Nights ho will be found at hia residence, first door above the bridge on Main Street, [oVards Samuel Dickinson’s. c. N. DARXT, DENTIST, _--i t /~\rF[CK at his residence near the 1 F Academy. All work pertaining to line of business done promptly and [April 22, 1858.] rarratueii. DICKISSOS HOUSE cOKN X x G . N. T. p. C. Noe Proprietor. (Jucsfs taken to ami from tlic Depot free of charge. PE NNS UVAIUA BOUSE WKLLSIiOUO', PA. L. D. TAYLOR. PROPRIETOR. Xtu- lions© is centrally located, and nm0 „.j< it-.-lf to the pationnge of the travelling public, w-j. J . v - • AMERICAN HOTEL. • CJIKNIXG, N.Y.. 2 FREEMAN, - - - - Proprietor. Mc.il?. 2j cts. Lodgings. 25 cts. Board, 75 cts. per day. ’ (’..ruing, March .11. 1850. (ly.) " J. C. WHITTAKER, Hydropathic Physician and Surgeon, ELKLAND. TIOGA CO., PEN2TA. •Will \ hit patients in all parts of the County, or rc fl.\e them lor treatment at bis house. [June 14,] r H. O. COLE, V, An HE it A A'JJ HAIR-DRESSER . SH"I' in the rear of the Post Office. Everything in i.i; line will be done ns well and promptly as it can be done in the city saloons. Preparations for re :iovin;r dandruff, antLbeautifying the hair,.for sale cheap" Hair and whiskers dyed any color. Call and t .\ Wclisbnro, Sept. 22, 1850. GAINES HOTEL. ILC. VERMILYEA, PROPRIETOR Gaines, Tioga County, Pa. fit|l I. -2 well known hotel is located within easy access £ of the hot fishing and bunting grounds in Xorth’rn Xo pains will be spared for the accommodation rlo.i'tiro seeker? and the traveling public. *--i> n. I*oo. THE CORNING JOURNAL. George W. Pratt, Editor and Proprietor. I* published at Corning, Steuben Co., N. T., at One liolUr and Fifty Cents per year, in advance. The .i.’nuH s Republican in politics, and hfw a circitla- Misvaching info every part of Steuben County. — Th‘>*c tKslrbus of extending their business into that iA the adjoining counties will find it an excellent ad- Tortiiitic medium. Addrc«s as above. COUDEBSPOKT HOTEL. rnI'DLRSPORT POTTER CO., PENXA. D. F. Glassmirc, - - Proprietor. IMIIS IIuTKL is located within an hour’s drive o the head waters of the Allegheny, Genesee, and* '.i-juvbanna rivers. No efforts are.spared to make :iLome fur pleasure seekers during tbetroutlug sea -ji. and for the traveling public at all times. Jan. 27. 1559. ly.| JOHN B. SHAKBSPBAR, TAILOR. HU’IXO opened bis shop in tho room .over W'n\. Roberts Tin Shop, respectfully informs the '’•iiwis of Wrlt.-boro’ and vicinity, that he i a prepared execute orders in bis .line of business with prompt tit? and despatch Cuffing done on short notice. V-u'd.nro. Oct. 21, 18DS.—6m WATCHES! WATCHES: [HIE Subscriber has pot a fine nasortment of heavy i ESUUSH LEVER HUNTER-CASE Gold and Sliver Watches, ••*h he w ill sell cheaper than “ dirt’ 5 on ‘Time,’ i. e. sill ‘Time I’icccs*on n short (approved) credit. All kind- of HEI’AmiXG done promptly. If a 1 ‘'f «<-rk is not done to the satisfaction of the party r ’-r ii’ R, mi ihnrgc will be mode. I V favor-' appreciated and a contmanvc t>f pafron- A Umllv solicited. AXDIE FOLEY. JellA in,, June 21, ISIS, _ HOME INDUSTRY. THE srnsrillßEß having established a MAR -1 RLE MANUFACTORY at the village of Tioga. ’•*re he i« prepared to furnish Monuments, Tomb-Stones, &c., 1 1 the l>C«t VERMONT & ITALIAN MARBLE T cM respectfully solicit the patronage of this and ad ■ counties. .'i\in ’ a good stock on hand be is now ready to cx all onVrs with neatness, accuracy and dispatch. •“'V 'd: delivered if desired. JOHN BLAMPIED* Tioga Co., Pa., Sept. 28. ISSO. Win. TERBELL, CUKNINIJ. X. Y. Wholesale and Retail Dealer, in i,s, Mrtlictnr*, Lfnd, Zinc, and Colored On», Varnish, Jirvuka C‘*mphencand Hnrnuuj y 4 7' lh r Stuff. S„*h and Glam, J*urc Liquors for ’r. M'Alf'inc*, Artist* Points and Hnu&c*, " Wc 'y* 1 onry At tide*! Flavorhuq Extracts, ALSO, , general assortment of School Books— lilank Bonks, Staple and Fancy . Stationary. 1 ru ??L‘ , ts anil Country Merchants dealing the above articles can be Supplied at a small lQr * li n Xew York prices. [Sept 22, 1857.] at swEMraTiFT ROY’S DRUG “ mi ran buy Stoves, Tin, and Japanned lar f 4t e one-half the usual prices . f s Ctovattul Oven 1 Cook Stove and Trim sls,oo. ■» kmdv llf lit fill and Hardware ili »i!| thon f,jr Kc:1(I y Pay. 1 -ili’j.j 3 -'' “I’ one wants any tiling in this line ’O' iiu'.w? ° dr i lr ' K ' C3 before purchasing elsewhere, v, ,V . e place—two doors south of Farr’s Ho- Drug Store. CALL AND SEE r Y; H7~DTr) EMIN Gr, U i. • inn 'Jimce to the people of Tlogn County f^.C W i, to fill all orders for Apple, Penr v-^’aui‘ cll * 11 Qo, Apricot. Kvergreen «nd .Deciduous L e w Curnmts. ila4>pberncfii Gooseberries, ' 1 airau berrie* of all new nnJ approved, varl , 'JcLS—nf rtvVriJ. Perpetual and Sum- Uourbon, Noisette, Ten, ™ biDEKosra - . U,. 'LI BoER, Y_lnclading’all tbe finest new ra- Lilac- c n - „ rieties of Althea, Calycantbus, I,O\U t'no’ - ri,! -' ir "- Viburnums, Wigilias Ac. ... ’ IhllS—''“Mine-. Ualiliu, Phloxes. Tnlips, llyadalhs, Narcissi*; Jouquils. Lit- C,. Url,.; r , * ; U -k. - t *rawben-y. 1 dor, plants, sd. '' r-l, tine. Budding or Pruning will be • .. 1 0.. Audi cv. / l - U. D. IIIiMING, ITlii-fc -.-o, Pa. THE AGITATOR Scboteb to the Srtcnsion tf>e area of iTvcebom aiib tbe Spreab of HfcaXtbg Htform. WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG HNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO'AIAN” SHALL CEASE. AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. VOL. VI. [From tho Louisville Journal.] OTHER BATS. A dream of the past, confused and dim. Lost night was round my heart, And I saw again the passing years Like a vision of love depart; But the stranger-star in its lofty sphere With its wings spread eastward bright and clear Shone like the sun in a brilliant tear. In the midnight dream once more I saw The friends of early days; Friends that I loved before I knew Life’s varied and shadowy ways j Friends whose hearts were as real and true i To me as tho sun to the far-off bine. And I loved this dream confused and dim As I love the notes of some half-heard hymn. And I heard again tho sighing wind. As It sighed long, long ago. When it passed through the yellow leaves in fall Musical, soft and low ; And the raven perched on the samo dead limb With glist’ning eye and neck stretched slim, Is tho same I saw there in those years When Hope made rainbow’s o’er our tears. It seems a long and weary path To tread the hills of life, To walk the varied rales of earth ith their pleasures, pains and strife ; But with pleasure now we fain look back,; To the past life’s sunny and shady track. And dreams of the past makb as sweet a spell As the music of waves or an ocean shell. There are none that have never felt the touch Of sorrow’s dark-hued wing. And there are none but In dark hours Will to some bright hope cling; And thus with sorrow, joy and strife, We pass through the shade and shine of life, Till, like the sun’s last ray at even. Our spirits pass to the far-off heaven. A TRUE STORY BY BAYARD TAYLOR. On the 15lh of October, 1850, a celebration of a peculiar character was held in a small vil lage near. Jena. It was an occasion of an en tirely local nature, and might have passed over unobserved and unknown to all, except the im mediate vicinity, hut for its connection with the battle which fifty years and one day before, an nihilated the power of Prussia. An account of it, however, was published in most of the Ger man newspapers, and this circumstance, the sequel of the story which I am about to relate, was brought on. At the time the celebration took place, I was residing in Gotha, not more than fifty miles from the spot, and received the story almost in the very words of the chief actor in it. lam sorry that his name and that of his village have escaped my memory. We must first go back to tho 14th of October, ISOil. On that day the windy nplands north east of Jena witnessed tho brief but terrible which resulted in the triumphant march of the French army into Berlin eleven days afterward—during which time Pnlssia had lost 00,000 men, 05,000 standards, and 0,00 cannon. A portion of the French army was encamped on tho battle-field, or quartered in the village around. The poor inhabitants over whelmed by this sudden avalanche of war upon its quiet fields—whore for a hundred years or more, they had reaped their harvest in peace— submitted in helpless apathy while their houses and barns were plundered by the lawless sol diery. Tho battle was over, but there was no lull in the blast of the ruin. Through the clouds of cannon smoko which settled in the bosom of the deep valleys as the raw October evening came on, were heard in all directions shrieks of fear, yells of rage or triumph, and cries of pain or lamentation. Davnust—the “Butcher of Hamburg,” as the Germans called him—took up his quarters for the night in one of the most convenient and comfortable houses which could be found in the neighborhood of the scene of slaughter. Here he rapidly issued orders for tho disposition of the forces under his command, gave directions for the morrow, and received from his adjutant. He had taken his cloak, and was about retiring to an inner chamber for repose, when nn officer entered. “Pardon me, General,” he said, “but there is a case which requires attention. The German canaille must be taught to respect us. Ten soldiers of Company of the Fourth infantry, who quartered themselves in the vil lage of Waldorf, (let us say,) have been driven away by the people, and two or three of them arc severely injured.” Davoust’a cold eye glittered, and his mous tache curled like the lip of a mastiff, as he turned and halted a moment at the door of the bed room. “Send a lieutenant and twenty men to the village, pick out ton of tho vagabonds and shoot them down 1” was tho brief order. “Where is Waldorf?” ho added, turning to one of those useful creatures who are always wil ling to act as guides and interpreter for the en emy in their own land. “There is a village called Upper Waldorf which lies near ,the head-of a small valley to the left; Middle Waldorf is on the other side of the hill, and tower Waldorf about half au hour’s distance beyond." The marshal not caring to make more minute inquiries, went-to bed. If ten men were shot, that was sufficient. The next morning, at sunrise, Lieutenant Lomottc with twenty men marched over the trampled hills to seek Waldorf. It was a disa greeable business, and the sooner it was over the better. On reaching a ridge which over looked the intersection of two or three valleys, more than one village was visible through the cold fog now beginning to rise. “ Outesi Wal dorf,” inquired the officer of the, man. whom lie had impressed by the way. "Das,” an swered. the man, “ish ober Waldorf,” pointing to a village on the left. “Enaeani!” and in fifteen minutes more the Frenchmen marched into the little hamlet. Uniting in an open space between the chnrch and the two principal beer houses, the officer summoned the inhabitants together. The whole village was already awake, for few hod slept during the night. Theiwrara were still stunned by the thunders of yesterday, and | visions of burning and pillage still danced before their eves. At the command of the lieutenant, the women and children waited near in terrible anxiety, for no one understood the words which were spoken, and these ominous preparations led them to imagine the worst. At (this juncture the son of tho village pas tor appeared upon the scene. He was a young WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. DECEMBER §2, 1859. man of twenty; who was studying theology in order to become\his father’s successor, and for tunately had sonic knowledge of French; The appearance of thmgs without, the cries and entreaties of the terrified people told him that his help was wanted, lie immediately- ad dressed himself to 'Lieutenant Lamote, and k e gg®d for an explanation of the proceedings; “I am ordered to punish this village," an* swered the latter, “for your treatment of our soldiers last night. The\ marshal orders that ten of you must he shot. \The only thing that I can do is, to allow you to draw lots among yourselves, or to point out those concerned'in the outrage.” \ “But, 5 ’ continued the young man, “your Gen eral has been misinformed. No French sol diers have visited our village before you. We truly have been in great fear and anxiety the whole night; but tlic valley is deep and the village is_ partly concealed from view by the woods oh- the side. There are also the villages of Middle and Lower Waldorf, which lie fur ther down in the open valley. You can shon satisfy yourself; sir, that this village is Entirely innocent; and I entreat you not to shhd the blood of our harmless people.” \ “There is no time for investigation,”'said the officer; “I was ordered to proceed to Wal dorf, and lam guided hither. I will wait tjll you make your choice of ten to be sacrificed, but have no authority to do more.” \ By this time the people had learned the fate in store for them. The women with tears and appealing gestures, crowded around the officer, begging him to spare their sons and husbands; the men stood silent, with bloodless faces and dumb, imploring eyes. The scene was evi dently painful both to the officer and the sol diere, accustomed as they wore to the unmerci ful code of war. They were anxious to put an end to it and leave ; but the clergyman’s son inspired with the belief that the fate of ten men rested upon his efforts, continued to urge his plea with a zeal and eloquence that would not be set aside. Lieutenant Lamotte struggled awhile between his sense of duty and his natu ral humanity, while the young advotate ap pealed to his conscience and to the obedience which he owed to a higher commander than' Davoust. Finally he consented to wait while a sergeant was dispatched to head quarters, ac companied by a peasant to show him the near est way. A few lines hastily penciled, stated the facts in the case, and asked further instruc tion. , Meanwhile, the inhabitants waited in a state of suspense scarcely to be endured. Lieuten ant Lamotte— who, rts a thorough Frenchman, soon wearied of a painful emotion, and shak ing it off at the risk of appearing heartless — said: “The morning is keen, and a walk be fore sunrise doesn't diminish the appetite'; can you give us some refreshments from your hid den supplies?” At a word from the young man, many of the women brought together the coffee they had prepared for their own break fast, with black bread, mugs of beer, and a small cheese or two —sufficient for a rough meal —of which the soldiers partook with the usual laughing comments on "la cuisine AUemancle.” The company of victims looked on in silence, and more than once muttered, gloomily: “We are feeding our executioners.” “Even if that should be true,” said the young man, “it is but doing as Qhrist taught us.— Whether or not we obtain Christian charity from these men, let us, at.least, show them that we are Christians.” This solemn rebuke had its effect. A few of the men assisted in entertaining the soldiers, and theJatter with their facility of fraterniza tion, soon made themselves at home. As the stomach fills, the heart also enlarges, and the men begin to say among themselves: “It is a pity that these men should he shot by mis take.” It was not long before the sergeant and bis guide arrived. The former handed the Lieu tenant a note, which he hastily tore open aid read. “Waste no time in parley. It is indif ferent which Tillage is punished; an example must be made. Do your duty and return in stantly.” So ran the pitiless answer. “Choose your men!” said the lieutenant rising to his feet, and grinding his teeth to keep down his faltering heart. But now the lamen tations broke out afresh. The women clung ground the men that were dear to them, and many of the latter overcome by the general distress, uttered loud cries and prayers for mercy. The young man knelt down in front of them, saying to the officer: “I do nut kneel to you ; but I pray to God that ho will remove the sin of slaughter from your soul.” j As the officer met his earnest eyes full of a sublime calmness courage, his own sud denly filled with tears. He turned to his men who stood drawn up in a line before [ him, hut no word was spoken. Their hands were in their proper places, according to drill regula tions ; and there were drops on many cheeks which they could not wipe away. There was a silent question in the officer’s eye —a silent answer in theirs. The former turned hurried ly, beckoned the young man to him, and whis pered in an agitated voice: “My friend, I will save you by stratagem.—. Choose ten of your most courageous men, place them in a lino before me and I will order my men to shoot them through the head. At the instant I give the order to fire, they must fall flat on the ground; my soldiers will aim high, and no one will be injured. As soon as the volley is fired I will give the order to march; but no one must stir from his place until wo are out of sight. These words were instantly translated to the people, but so great was their panic that no one offered to move. The pastor’s son then took his place, alone, in the vacant space before the line of soldiers. “I offer myself,” said he, “as one trusting in Gop, that all shall be saved; and I call upon those of-you who have the heartsrof men in ydnr bodies to stand beside me.” Tbnng Gonard, a sturdy farmef.and but newly a bridegroom, joined—casting as he did so a single encouraging look upon his wife, who turned deadly pale but spake not a word. One by one, as men who have resolved to face death—for the most of them had but a trem bling half-confidence in their escape—eight others walked out and took their places in the lipel The women shuddered, and hid their eyes; the men looked steadily on, in the fasci nation of terror; and the little children in awe bat ignorant curiosity. The place was silent as if devoid of life. Again the Lieutenant surveyed his soldiers. ■. “Take aim 1” he commanded. He continued —“aim at their heads that your work may be well done!” But though his voice was clear and strong, and the tenor of his words not to be mistaken, a clairvoyant flash of hidden inoaning ran down the-line, and the men un derstood him. Then came the last command: —“Fire /”—but the second which intervened between the word and the ringing volley the* ten men were already falling. The cracks of the muskets and sound of their bodies were simultaneous. Without pausing an instant, the lieutenant cried: “Right about wheel!” “Forward!” and the measured tramp' of the soldiers rang down the narrow village street. * The women uncovered their eyes and gazed. ■There lay the ten men, motionless and appa rently lifeless. With wild cries they gathered around them; but ere their exclamations of despair had turned into those of joy, the las of the soldiers had disappeared in the wood.— then' followed weeping embraces, and all arose from the'ground—laughter apd sobs of hyster ical joy. The pastor’s son, uncovering his head knelt down; and while reverently fol lowed in example, uttered an eloquent prayer , of thanksgiving for their merciful deliverance. \ What this young man had done was not suf fered to go unrewarded. A blessing rested fapon his labors and his life. In the course of lime he became a clergyman, filling for awhile his father’s place for the people he had saved, but was afterwards led to a wider and more ambitious sphere. Ho was called to Leipzig, received the degree of Doctor of Divinity, find finally became known throughout Germany as the founder of the Gustav Adolf Tereia, (Gus tavos Adolphus Union,) which has for its ob ject of the dissemination of protestant princi ples by means of voluntary contributions. In some it resembles the Home Mission of our country. Many churches built by this association are' now scattered throughout the United States. \ The inhabitants of Waldorf never forgot their pastor, nor he them. He came back from time to time to spend a few days in the quiet little village of his youth\in which the most eventful crisis of his life was'passed. In 1850, three out of the ten pseudo victims of Davoust were still living in their old homes, and the people besought them that the semi centennial anniversary of such an event de served a special celebration. Dr. ,of Leipzig, (formerly the pastor’s son,) was in vited to be with them. ' He came—he would -have come irom tiic cmi., Or -.email —tmi after a solemn religious service in the church, preceded to the very spot, o\ which he had stood and faced the French muskets, and there related to the children and grand children of those he had saved, the narrative \which I have here given in less moving and eloquent words. Those who were present described the scene ps singularly impressive and effective. \ The three old men sat near him ns he spoke. \ And the emotions of that hour of trial was so vividly reproduced in their minds that at the close, they laughed and wept as they had done on the same day fifty years before. \ In conclusion, the speaker referred to the officer whose humane stratagem had preserved their lives. “Since that day,” said be, “I have never heard of him. I did not even learn his name; but he is ever remembered in my prayers. Most probably he died a soldier’s' death on one of the many fields of slaughter which intervened between Jena and Waterloo; if he should be living, it would cheer my last days on earth if I could reach him with a sin gle word of gratitude.” In the same year there lived—and, no doubt, still is living—in Lyons, an invalided and pen sioned captain of the Napoleonic wars. After a life of vicissitudes, he found himself in old age, alone, forgotten, poor. His daily- resort was a cafe, where he could see and read the principal European journals, and perhaps meas ure the changed politics of the present time by the experience of his past life. | One day in November, 1850, he entered the cafe, took his accustomed seat and picked up the nearest paper. It happened to be the Augs burg Allogeraeine Zeiiung; but he had spent some years in Germany, and understood the language tolerably. Ills attention was arrested by a letter dated Jena. “Jena?” he thinks, “I was there too. What is going on there now?” he reads a little further; “Celebration at Wal dorf?” Waldorf? The name is familiar; where have I heard it ?” As ho continues his peru sal, the old captain’s excitement, so unusual a circumstance, attracts the attention of all th'o other Jiabilvcs of the cafe. Grand Dim, Da voust—Waldorf—the ten men—the pastor’s son ! Did I dream such a thing, or is this the same? Forgotten for years—effaced by a hun dred other military adventures—overlaid and lost in the crowded store of. a soldier’s memory, the scene came to light again. The pastor’s son still lived, still remembered,- and thanked the preserver of his native village! Many a long year had passed since such a glow warmed the chambers of tho old man’s heart. | That evening he wrote to Dr. , in Leip zig. Ho was ill and but a few months distant from his last hour; but the soldier’s letter seemed like a Providential answer to his prayers, and brightened the flickering close of jhis life. A manly and affectionate correspondence was carried on between the two while the latter lived. The circumstance became public, and the deed was officially recognized in a way most Haltering to the pride of Captain Lamotte. The Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar and the King of Saxony conferred upon him the orders of their respective houses, which were followed soon afterward by the cross of the legion of honor from Louis Napoleon, and an increase of Yiis pension which assured him ease and com fort the rest of his life. A translation of the doctor’s narrative, published in the French pa pers drew attention to’him, and he was no lon ger a neglected frequenter of the cafe. He was known and honored, even without his three or ders. An Incident of Hamper’s Ferry. On the trial of Old Brown every witness swore to the extraordinary efforts'which he made to save human Hjs conduct in this respect is the better appreciated when put in contrast with the barbarities, committed by the Virginians. In the course of the trial a young man, 22 years of age, named Hunter, was called upon the stand. He was the son of the prosecuting officer. He was to testify concern ing the shooting pf Thompson, who, it was thought had some connection with killing Beek man on the bridge- “Shalllmention names?” asked the son. “Every bit of it Henry; state all you saw,” replied the father. Then follow ing the testimony of the ydnng man. Beek man, who was shot on the bridge, - was his grand-uncle ; he “loved him above all others he went with others to the room where Thomp son was guarded; a woman sat in his lap, and when they tried to shoot him protected his head with her body, as much in the spirit of heroism as when Pocahontas defended Capt. Smith; the young man was “cool about it and deliber ate they pushed Miss Fouke aside, and “slung him out of doors ;” they “shoved him -along the platform and down to the trestle work of the bridge, he begging for his life all the time, very piteously at first; bye-the-byc, before we took him out of the room, I asked the question what he came here for? He said their only purpose was to free the slaves—that be came here to free the slaves or die; then he begged, “Don’t take my life—a prisoner;” but I put the gun to him and be said. “You may kill me but it will be revenged ; there are eighty thou sand persons sworn to carry out this work that was his last expression; we bore him out on the bridge with the purpose then of hanging him; we had no rope, and none could be found; it was a moment of wild excitement—two of us raised our guns —which one was first I do not know—and pulled the triggers, before he had reached the ground I suppose some five or six shots had been fired into his body; ho fell on the railroad track, his back down to the earth, and his face up.” “Is that all gentlemen ?” asked the father. It was all. “Stand aside,’/ said the father to jiis heroic son. We suppose the son did “stand aside,” having in a court of justice given this testimony in response to the paternal direotionj and with the paternal eye beaming directly upon him. [Perhaps some one who is learned in criminal trials can find a parallel to this testimony.— But if in this country it has a paralle’, we do not know it. The Sequel. Our readers have all heard the story of soap ing the clergyman’s tin horn at camp-meeting— so that when he Vent to caii”rae congregation together he blew the “soft soap” over his broth er clergymen, and how he exclaimed: “Brethren, I have served the Lord for thirty years, and in that time have never uttered a profane word, hut I’ll be d d if I can’t whip the man that soaped that horn 1” Our readers, we say, have heard this, hut perhaps never the sequel as given us yesterday by a gentleman present. Some two days after, a tall, swarthy villain ous looking desperado strolled on the grounds and loaned against a tree, listening to the elo quent exhortation to repent, which was being made by the preacher. After a while he be came interested and finally affected, and then took a position on the anxious scat, and \vitfa his face between* his' hands commenced groan ing in “the very bitterness” of his sorrow.— The clergyman walked down and endeavored to 'console him. No consolation—ho was too greatf a sinner, he said. Ob, no, there was pardon for the vilest. Ko, he was too wicked —there was no mercy for him. “Why, what crime have you committed ?” said'the benevolent preacher—“have you sto len ?” “Ob, worse than that!” “What! have you by violence robbed female innocence of its virtue?” I “Worse—oh worse than that!” i “Murder, is it?” gasped the horrified preaeh- “Worse than that,” groaned tho smitten sin- The excited preacher commenced “peeling off” his outer garment. “Here Brother Cole!” shouted he—“hold my coat—l’ve found the fellow that soaped that horn!” Eight Password but W bong Smell.— A high officer of the Sons of- Temperance presenting himself frith the smell of grog ho had been drinking, upon him, at the door of a “Division” for admission, was waited upon by an Irish sentinel, to whom he gave the password, when the following passed: “Sir’r,” said he, “an’ yez Mister O’ Wright the Ghrand Worthy Pathriarch of the State of lyhaintucky, I do be after belavin.” “Yes,” said Jim, “you are perfectly right my friend, but why do you ask the question !” “To tell yez the truth, then sir, and shame tho devil,” said Pat, “yez |do be having the right password for a Son Of Tlmperanco, en tirely, but by the Holy Virgin, and the blessed Saint Patherick, yez got the wrong smell.” A little ragged urchin, bogging in'the city the other day, was asked by a lady who had filled his basket, if his parents were living ?” “Only dad, rnarm,” said the boy. “Then you’ve enough in your basket now to feed the-family for some time,” said the lady. > “Oh no, I haven’t neither, said the hid, “fol ded and me keeps five boarders: he does the house-work, and I docs the market’n.” Mrs, Jenkins complained in tfae evening that the, turkey she had eaten at Thanksgiving did not set well. “Probably,” said Jenkins, “it was nut a hen turkey.” He got. a glass of wa ter in his face. “Sarah,” said a wag, “it's all over town.” “What’s all over town ?” was the anxious in quiry. “Mud.” Sarah’s eyes dropped. Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will be charged $1 per square of 10 lines, one or tbrqp Insertions, and 25 eentf for every subsequent insertion. Advertisements of less thnn 1 line* considered as a square. The subjoined rates will be charged for Quarterly, Haif-Teaily and Yearly ad vertisements : - Square, - 2 do. 2 do. } column, « * do. Column, - Advertisements not having thenumber of insertion, desired marked upon them, will be published, until or. dered out and charged accordingly. Poolers, Handbills, Bill-Heads, Letter-Heads and all kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices’, Constables', and other BLANKS constantly on hand. NO. 81. FROM THE PEOPLE. For the Agitator. Have they ewer Changed? -Frjisd Yocso ; I wish in a few words, to lay before your Readers the beautiful consistent cy of the Democratic party. They are daily charging the Republicans of often changing their opinions, and at every comer they throw in your face their life-long usages. But what are they ? Oan any Administrationist tell mo what the policy of the Democratic party is or has been, upon the power of'Congress io con trol Slavery in our National Territories ? or the power of the people themselves to control it ? I here make the charge, and if called upon will endeavor to fumishj the proof that xi.vk Presidents have approved of sixteen different acts of Congress, restricting, modifying or pro hibiting slavery in the Territories of the U. S.; that no President from Washington to Polk ever doubted this power of Congress. No Dcm osratie President ever doubted this power.— Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Jackson and Polk never dreamed of violating a fundamental prin ciple of tho Constitution when they approved of snob measures- No Democratic .statesman ever doubted this power till the hour when Lew is CaSs made his famous bid for the Presidency in 1848, in his celebrated letter to A. 0. P. Nicholson of Tenn., who was the first to an nounce this doctrine. This had never been dreamed of before, and to this country, so far, this has been “a direful spring of woes unnum bered.” His doctrine of “Popular Sovereign ty" proposed to revolutionize the whole policy of this government. His letter, in so many words declares this fact. Let us quote Mr. Cass; “I perceive that a change has been going on in the public mind concerning the power of Congress to legislate upon Slavery in the Terri tories, and my mind has undergone a change as well as others." , Is not a change in the policy of the Demo cratic party plainly apparent at this point?— One of two things however, is very evident. Jf the early fathers were right, then Cass and his followers are clearly wrong. Or if Cass & Co. are right then every President and every Con gress from 1789 to 1848 have been legislating in direct violation of the Constitution. Who are right? Again, when the Kansas Nebraska Bill was brought forward in the Spring of 18-54, which proposed to remove the line of 1820, it was urged upon the country that Congress bad no power to interdict Slavery, in the national domain, Dougins & Co. argued that the sover eign power to prohibit Slavery in the Territo ries remained with the people of the Territories themselves. That while the people of the whole country through the general Congress had no power over slavery, the people of the Territo ries had exclusive jurisdiction. This was the issue upon which the campaign of 1850 was fought. The country was flooded with docu ments in which* the right and power of the peo ple of the Territories over slavery and the im potency of Congress were plainly held. Thus far I have given two positions of Democracy upon the policy of legislating upon the subject of Slavery. Now in 1859 we still have another theory which is held Uy the Administration. It is now held that neither Congress, nor the •people of the Territories hate any power to prohibit slavery. This doctrine is held by the President and hi* followers all over the country. The arguments of ’59 are in direct conflict with those of '5O. Judge Douglas, who firmly stands upon the Cincinnati platform, finds a mighty gulf be tween himself and the present self-constituted leaders of modern Democracy. The difference between Douglas and Buchanan is os broad as that between the Democratic and Republican parties. So that now we have an entirely new idea which directly gives the lie to all of their past history, even down to 1855? Democratic leaders say they ora consistent. To recapitu late, let us sea: Before 1848, they-believed that Congress had power to prohibit slavery in the Territories ; from that time or at least from 1852 or, 54 until 1858, they contended that not Congress but the people of the Territories them selves had sovereign power to entirely prohibit slavery; and from 1858 down to this hour. Congress and the people are both denied the power to prohibit this crime of crimes within their limits, though ninety-ninchnndreths would be free from this evil they are powerless to do so. But more of this hereafter. Mr. Show ’tan Explains. —"Jlr. Showman, what is that?” “That, my dear, is the rhynoccry. He is cousin German or Dutch relation to the unicorn, lie was born in the desert of Sary Ann, and fed on bamboo and missionaries. He is very courageous, and never leaves home unless he moves, in which case he goes somewhere else, unless he is overtaken by Die dark. He was brought to this country much against his will, which accounts for his lew spirits when lie’s melancholy rejected. He is now somewhat aged, but he has seen the day when he was the youngest specimen of animated nature in the world. Pass on, my little dear, and allow the ladies to survive the wonders of creation, ns displayed in the ring-tailed monkey, a haniinal that can stand hanging like a.fellow-critter. only it’s reversed." A man traveling entered tavern, and seeing no one present but thie and a negro, seated himself and entered into conversation with the negro. Shortly after he asked Samho if he was dry—Sambo said be was. Stranger told him to go to the bar and take something at his expense. Landlord says to stranger. “Are you acquainted with that negro V r “Me, never saw him before; bufwhy do you ask ?” “I supposed you were from your conversa tion with him, and asking him to drink.* 1 “Oh,” said the stronger, “I was experiment ing. The fact ia I was dry too, and 1 thought it your liquor didn’tkill him in fifteen minute?', I would venture to take a drink myself.” Iho landlord’s curiosity was fully satisfied. “k ou can’t do that again,” as the pig said when tbo boy cut off bis tail. 3 a asms. ( koxths. 13 xovths - ' $3,09 $4,50 $9,00 5,09 6,50 8.00 7.00 8,50 10.00 8.00 0,50 12,50 15.00 20,00 30.00 25.00 35,00 59,00 Frank,