The Tioga County Agitator:
BY M. H. COBB.
p ihli'heJ jr-Jry Wednesday morning »n( tnlUedto
.A-ritriiat OME DOCLA.K iSD FIFF 'CENTS
..'■ryear, nlTayo IN ADVAHCE, ' '.'V
1 Lm (! tpsriiMot poatage freeto'-•cantysifiifsribers,
thoago !“-/ m *•>’ receive their snail at post hf lie* la
[■stii in -■ januos immediately rtij lining, fv-\ ,■ unyan-
jjiecce.
fac Aktato:* is the Official paper of
fl ai circulates in srer/neighborhood there* qC Sub
£:r;ptijai bom£ on.thAadranss'paj’ system; it circu
lates A.njn?- a classJDOSt to the interest
torci-’b. X’irju to /Ldrectiaer* AS liberals those of
ferc 1 by aa>- piparof circulation in Northern
Pennsylvania.
£3* A crois pn the margin 'of 4 'paper, denotes
tbit the >abicrlp:ioa is aboui to gxpire.
XT will be stopped wbeti the subscription
tucotpli'iij unlosi the agent orders their continu
ance. - •/*. -■
JAS LO WREST & S. P. WIJ, .SOX,
k TfOEN'EI'S & COUNfiBLIIORS 4 1 &W,
s»il otteni the Courts of i’ioga, ‘Pet er and
;,I:£o%n chanties. Jan/lfctlb3.]
BICKUTSOrf HOUSE,
COK 1» I G, It. Y . J
p[ L j. A. FIELD, ?;..........TPr'jfnetor.
p u£STS taken-to and from the Dhp'Hfree
Vj cf charge. [Jan. 1, jig3.]
P£l«rL*AsilA HODHE,
CCSHER OF STREET AND THE AT^DE,
Weilebsra, Ps,
.Projifietpr
,T Vt. EIGONi,
r j 'HI3 popular Hotel, baring .been tAfitte'd
i anl re-furruEhsd throughout, if now to the
pbuc as a first-class house. - [Jan.4, t£63 ]
‘ ». HART’S HOTEL., -
WEELSBOP.O, TIOO-d i’O. PSXXA.
IIHE subscriber takes this method to &furm
his old friends end customers that he, ias re
:imii the conduct of the old “Crystal fhantatn
Hotel," -and hereafter give it his entire aCifftion.
TB,aiial for past furore, he solicits a renewal of the
,'iie. DAVID HiRT. ‘
ffelUboro. Nor. N
IZ.4AK W.4LTOS HOfJ«V,V
tjaittae, TiugaCounty, Pa.;>v
U C. VEBMILTBA Pr'[rietot.
rpillS is a new hotel located within! ;ksy «c-
J. csss of the best fishing and banting gi ands in
Northern Pennsylvania. No pains will be s tared for
;Le accommodation of pleasure seekers hnd ’ f e tray-,
citing publ. ’ ' [Jan-. 1,'1863.] ,1
tv WATCHES, CLOCKS ‘ ASD
JEWELRY! '■
Repaired at BULLARD'S 4 CO’3. STpR* > by the
lubscrifcer, in the beil manner. and at as low* rricesas
tee (ame vr.ri-: ean fae for, By any-prat rcAS'prac
ticai '.torhtaan in the State ’
XVerUhtti ‘duly la, 15C3
A. F.OLEf, V '
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry,
repaired at old prices. -V**
POST OFFICE BUILDING,
;rO. 5, UNION BLOCK. *
V.'eUifccro. May 20, 1663. 1 ’
E- B. BLACK, *
BARBER & HAIR-DRE£S:sEL
SHOP OYER C. L, YTXLCOX’S STORt' >
NO. 4, UNION BLOC?t-.
ffellsboro. Jane 2-i, 1863, *
WESTERS lICHAJffiE fIOIEL.
KNOXVILLE,- BOfiODGH, PA. ■
THE underaigned having leased'the
for a term of years would respectfully inform
tie trn% cling public that fae baa pot the Hotcljn first
:i(!!§ order for the reception of guests and n«,pains
■sillbe spared In ibe accommodation of travelers and
ts far as the situation will allow, bo will keep' « fIW t
c’iss Hotel, in nil things, except piices, wbia. will
b« moderate. Plonse try na and judge for yodi tolvcs.
Kaoxulle. Oct, 19, 1864-tf. J- K, MA&3IK.
DRUGS IaEDICINE^
SO. 3, UXION BLOCK, T PA.
P. K. WILLIAM®,
BIGS leave to announce to the citizens of/ dis
tort) and vicinity, that he keeps’ constantly on
bed all kinds of » . • ,
1 DRUGS AND .MEDICINES-, 'i '
Chemicals, Varnish, Paints, Soaps, Perfumery, Glass,
ircshcs, Patty, Fancy Good?. Pure Wines, Brandies,
tries. and all other kinks of Liquors of the best
All kinds of •
PATENT MEDICINES
i-ch cs Javne’s Expectorant, Alterative and Pills;
-rer'i Sarsaparilla, Pills and Cherry Pectoral:
1 -* tAtrae: Eachu, Sarsaparilla and RoSevWaah;
"n '.V Ltliw'i Sothlnst Syrup; Wright’? Pills;
v .rt’sani thceseaian’s*Pi)ls; Hall’s Balsam-; Ejd
-:.pr's London Dock Gin ; Herrick’s Pills and Pias
i.:.- ErvWn'fe Bronchial Troches, £c. 1
.’■Uj 25, lS6i-ly. . p. R. WILLIAMS.
HEVESEE STAMPS. ■
1 OHIi M. PH;EDFS, Deputy Collector, of . Jaus
ij £cld, has justiWceived a, h rge lot of. R*i ,enue
turn;. of all denominations, from cue cent up io $5.
■■-yptrsca wishing Stanps can get them atm) Office
- Mansfield, c> if M. BULLARD, Assistant Asf.'sso'r,
n'f'fclUb.rc, Pa. J M. PHEL
2, ISM.
P SEWELL; nESTI«iT,
two a covkty, i-u
Ti jre;.-,rci to operate in ail thc< improvenu'ns in
x ller: v ri:us departments of filling, g. ic
•-"-.‘g ulc itii dentures, sc. . .
MiiEsfceld August 10, 1501-ly. : ‘
CoWANESQUE v 1
THIS House which baa been open for convenience
Xii the traveling public,for *s- number of Stars,
lately hucu nesriy furnished throughout and fitted
-i -t as style as-can Le found in any ccntffry'or
■■■■7 Had. Ihe Fruprietef does not hesitate i|o say
-t that there trill be no pains spared to add (a ll;C
t-a-firt of his guests, and make it e home for •'them.
*Lclestcf stabling for teams; and a- good
-asyi in attendance, ail of which cun be found
c.ic oast :f Knoxville, Pa. ’ P\'
M. V. PURPLE, Proprldor,
o«r£t-U. May 25, l£6-1.-ly. . - '
Vv'ELT.SBORO HOTE-L
-\Ct" ’.S’- 3/pin Strut and f/ic ■
VTellsboro, Pa.'-^
E- B. HOLIDAY, Proprietor.
..Oneof the most popular House* in tbe
Hutcl i? tbe principal Stage-house Ifx \TeH <fcopo.
leave daily as follows; * I:', *
t * or ’H'lga. at 9a.m. j For Troy, -at Ba.mf “ Fur
l erse 7 tli're every Tuesday and Friday at 2, ]. m.;
* r Coudersport, every Tuesday and Friday m.
s "aoes Arrive—From Tioga, at 12 frlclock
\ ' Froni Troy, at 6 o’clock p. m.: From Jersey
Tuesday and Fridoy II a. in.; From Ofijdcrs-
I Qe£^. a l aDJ I Friday II a. m. -■
Jimmy Cotrden, the ■well-known. lustier,
on -
Oct. 5. 1E64-Iy.. v - • -
HUGH ■
bookseller & mTioii^a,
il’P DEALER.IN
blocks, American, English, and Swiss
y l ’|° t “ w - Jcwolrj, Silver Fluted Ware, Spectacles,
’[ “I 16 Frames, Paotographfe Albums, Stereoscopes,
: -'i G - IVrfumery; Yankee Notions,.Fishing
Flies, end- Fancy and Toilet Article*.
o( -H00L BOOKS of every kind nsjd in the
“ o, conitantW on band and sent by mail or oth
to order. • .
UXIOX BLOCK, VTBLLSBORO,'PA.'.
Reveitoe mips.
A URGE ASSORTMENT of Revenue Stomps
Noi. , al * denominations, last received at the- Etm
"C °M“ k of Wellsboro, in the. Store bailding
: e ,,!„ “• R. Robinson. Persons are
fen !° call nnd got O supply! , .V ■
"'UrWo, May 25,18(i4-tf. - ''
the agitator.
. . XVHILETnERE SHALL BE A TVEOIia UNEJ&fiTEX), AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AtHTAi'ION MUST CuNIINUE
VOL; XL T
skies are growing warm and bright,
""''l And in the woodland bowcra
time ip her pale, feint robes
♦ |la calling up the flowers.
' Whop, all with naked little feet
The children in the morn
Go forth and tn the furrows drop
The seeds of yellow corn ;
What a beautiful embodiment
Of ’ease do~cii of pride *
I‘i the good old-fashioned homestead.
With doors set open wide !
Bat when the happiest time is come "
That to the year belongs,
W.ben ail the vaU«/&re ’filled with gold.
And all the air with songs;
When field* of yet unripenea grain ‘
And yet ungartered stores
Remind-the thrifty husbandman
'Of ampler .threshing flours.
How pleasant, from the din and dust
Of the thoroughfare aloof,
Stands the old-fashioned homestead,
With steep and mossy roof !
When home the woodsman plois with axe
Upon Lis shoulder awuug,
Apd in the knotted apple-tree *
Are scythe and sickle bung ;
\VheU-iow about her clay-built.nest-
The mother-swallow trills, ' ■
And decorously slow, the cows
*.Are wending down the hills :
Whnt a blessed picture of comfort •
Id the evening shadows red.
Is the good old-fashioned homestead, - "
With its bounieoh» table spread 1 ■- ■
.And when the winds moan wildly,
When the winds are bare and brows,
And when the swallow’s clay-built nest
} From the rafter cmmbls down ;
When all the untrpd garden paths -
. Are heaped with frozen leaves,
And icicles, Ijke silver spikes,
Are set along the eaves j
v Then when the book from the shelf is brought,
And the fire-lights shine and pla^r.
Ip the good old-fashioned homestead.
Is the farmer's holiday..
A. R. HASOY.
.Bat wbptherithe brooks be fringed with flowers,
Or whether the dead leaves fall.
And whether tho air be tull of songs.
Or never a-song at all.
And whether the vines of the strawberries
Or frosts thrqugh the grasses run.
And’whether it rain or whether it shine, .
Is all "to me as one.
For bright as *brlgfclest sunshino
The light of memory streams
Bound the old-foshioncd homestead,.
Where I dreamed my dream of dreams.
' Elruin is much like other fishing villages on
the Suffolk coast,’nothing particularly striking
in scenery.* 'Some say the lights' on the water
are more varied than In many places, and
when the son sets in tho sultry summer eve
nings there certainly is a particularly bright
line of dancing light from the horizon, ending
where the-waves , ripple in at the base of the
cliff. , \ ■
■ f say cliff,.for there is only one at Strain,
jutting out into the sea some forty yards fur
ther' than the' rest of the'mainland, whihh
forma almost a straight line from.the harbor,
a mile to the left of the village, to the remains
of the old castle a hundred yards*, to the west
of the cliff. /,
, The Shark’s-tootb cliff, as - it is called, rises
about sixty feet above the sea. It used to be
much higher opoe, but every year, as the tides
ran high, a portion gives way',
One of the fishermen has often told me that
he could remember well, as' a child, its being a’
perfect hill, and that he and the other lads used
to amuse themselves by-sliding down the slip
ery tuif fusing the 'sea., and gathering the
mosbiooms for whicll the bill used to be so
celebrated.
The sea encroaches very fast, though not so'
rapidly as it did before they put up the break
water. At certain times, when the'tides are
are very low,-yfou can see a rock covered with
long matted sea-weeds - this the fishermen call
the-Belfry Rock, and it is where the old parish
church used to stand.
Three years ago, when the - tides were very '
low, I hired a boat, and was rowed out to the ;
.Belfry. The waters were as still and clear as '
crystal, and, gaging over the sides of the crab-,
boat; | could distinctly make out in
■where, the- foundations .must have stood. • I i
had been reading the old church in tbs o'oun;
try history, and it seemed to me so strange to '
be floating o'ver-thc foundations of those tNor-,
man Arches that had once been so much- ad- j
mired,
As I gazed down, I saw red lines of sea
weed lazily moving at the bottom, where the
shrimps were darting quickly about, and -the
little eels showing their pointed heads from the
crCvices of what might have been old build
ing, stones.
It was an important building qnce, Elruin,
And tbe church (bo said my country history)
was the pride of the neighborhood-.
The noble family of Blais for many hun
dred years owned the entire parish, and.
Among other str’ange things, I read how, up to
1600, they hg.d used lo enforco a toll on every
boat in the village, as it returned from the her
ring or harvest; and how no boats
were permitted to put put on the day that a
body was borne from the castle to the family
vaults, long since filled with sand apd sea wa
ter.
The fishermen’s wives, even to the present
day, frighten their noisy children into silence
by threatening to hand them over to the Black
Earl.
Who this Black Earl was, I could never
quite satisfactorily discover; but tradition
said that an owner of the place, some hundreds
of years'ago, had finished o life of unexam
pled wickedness by springing off the cliff into
the sea; and this"l.know, that, even’ to this
time, before a storm the fishermen will tell you.
that the form of the Black Earl is -to be seen
boveriog over where the chancel of the church
once stood, and where his body, if it eould
have beeq found, would have been burled. "
“ Can’t see much of the ruin, young gentle
men,” said tbe.old fisherman who bad rowed
me out, Bud who bad been watehiog, V»itfT SV-'
ident satisfaction, tbe Interest I. took in bar-
to ttttJSPttmim of tftr area orjFmhom sHft ur?*?raXt&» liUfonm
stir.ct sorltj>.
THE OXiX> HOMESTEAD,
rr ALICE CART.
J&tsccllairg.
THE SKIPPER'S WITS.
WELLSBORO. TIOGA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, NO
veying the site of the church, ■which he, in
I common with the other villagers, took great de
i light in pointing oat. .
! "Very little,” I said, waking from the rev
| erie about the old Borman Church, St. Matthi-
as, its vaults filled with-sand and. sea. .weed.
and all those bodies resting round it, where
the once krassy churchyard stretched, waiting
till the sea shall give up its dead-
I had been thinking end dreaming till I
could almost fancy that the low rolling of the
sea was the sound of the organ, and that once
! more Eiruin Church stood before me, With its
I lofty spire and deep cut windows, and that 1
1 could see the simple fishing folk before the
i Earl's pew, who, with his wife and daughters,
,lat in raffled state, surrounded by the quaintly
' carved-monuments of sleeping ancestors.
, Did you ever see the Black Earl ?” I said,
raising my eyes from gazing over the side of
the.fcoat, seeing that my companion expected.
; me to talk.
“Thank the Lord, never,” he answered, re- mbtwan above ground,’
filling his pipe; “ mj mother howeveV >vhat have yon settled to do?’said
afore that great storm which blew so unoom* laid ant, returning his glass iato
njton, hard fifty-six years ago. day its caseT
Opmea in and says, * I say, Bill, was a. com- the thing was rather irreg
ing hack along the cliff just now, when I aeed. alar, but as all the men on board seemed very
a 1 black shadow, like a= man, floating round' about it. I told the skipper, poor fel
the Belfry Rock/ - * *■ - as overcome by grief as any
. “Mayhap it was a cloud or a porpoise/ 1 - e&r met, that, if he liked, I would per
says I, seeing she looked very much, frightened form the last rites uve'r hie poor young wife
about it. - this very afternoon. At Jirst, as I was told
"-Twan’t a cloud, boy/«ho said, ‘nor a to expect, he wauld not hear of the funeral
porpoise either—’twas the Black Earl; but taking place anywhere but at Newcastle, his
don’t talk no mure about it. I should i\ot bftme, fan t''after some persuasion he yielded
have minded so much if your dad had not gone the point, and the thing is all settled; so,
out a fishing, and the clouds looked very angry. as I must tell the sexlbn to prepare a grave
Sure enough there was such a gale that fay half past three, I must not talk any lon
night as I never heard of afore or since. I get; and really the scene I have just come
.was a sleeping in the same room with mother, from makes me feel that I should like to he
when I wakes up, hearing a powerful noise of alone for a time. lam most thankful to say
wind against the window. 1 starts up, and that tho conversation I had with the poor
sees mother kneeling by her bed. * 'What’s fellow has done much to make him resigned,
the matter, mother ?” says I, * Bill/says my He had heard of me often before, be said,
mother, rising from her knees and catching hold and on his table I noticed my little tract on
of my band, * I’ve been praying for your fath- resignation, which ho told me, to use his
er —l knew it was the Black Earl I seed.— own words, bad been a balm to his woun-
Lord have mercy on us both I I know my ded spirit. Very gratifying, was it not?
dear man be a dead corpse;’ and so he. was, Oood morning to you, my dear Lieutenant
sure enough. He and his two mates Svere good morning, my good .men,’ he * added, as
picked op three days after at the foot of .yon- we raised our caps, to him, and saw his
der building.” - • j ' kindly face turned toward home.
“ coast-guard station, is it not ?” “Before long the bell began to toll, and
I said to him, looking qt the building he point- as I-.went home to my dinner I saw the seat
ed roe out, and .change what I ton was hard at work at the grave, which,
knew must be a painful enhject. • “Po;you at the skipper’s request, was to be made on
often have any smuggled goods landed at Elru- the side nearest the sea and farthest from the,
Tin . ’- * : "- ■ , village, since he told the vicar it would be
“Very fewyindeed™they keep, such an nn-* so comforting, when his ship passed by Blru
common sharp lookout now*-a-days, When 1 in, *to see the spot where his Mary Ann
was a boy. a deal of business used to be done, was sleeping/
and they «aj as how the great people at the '“The report that there was to he a fune
castle were not above trying it on, now and ralfrom the strange ship in the offing spread
‘then.” x Hko wildfire'through the village, and half an
“ TVhen do you last remember any goods hour before the body was to |[eave the ship,
being smuggled on shore?” I said, seeing, the cliff was crowded by the-'villagers, the
from a grim sort of a smile, that he had a women with their shawls tied over their heads,
good story if he would bat tell it. leading their children by their hands.
“ Two years ago, come January, was the *■ Funerals are always a great - attraction to
last time as ever it was tried on ; mayhap, our .people, but since the lest earl at the cas
sir, you would like to hear about it? - Though tie was buried none had caused ao much in
part seeqas rather sad-like, here goes: tereet as this.
“ Two years ago, come January next, a ship
looking like a coller coming from Newcastle,
anchored in the offing; it was a clear, frosty
morning, with a sharp breece from the east,
which prevented many from going out fishinb.
About twenty of us were gathered round toe
benches in front of the coast-guard station
yonder, when we seed this ship letting down
her anchor.
"What ship be tbatf’ said I; ‘taint the
Tilda, what brings brings costs to the Elruin
wharf,. Jack?’ says I to my son, • cut-home
and get the glass, and let’s see what we can
make of it!’ . ‘ \
“ Just as Jack comes with the telescope,'up
comes Lieut. Barns, who commands the sta
tion.
“ What do you moke of it my man?' says
"Make.of it, Captain?’ says I (we.allera
call him oaptain j', - ‘ make of it ? Why noth
ing at all; ’taint jtha Tilda, though be seems
to be a collier,’.
" A salvage case, perhaps/ says he ; ‘ but
we shall know all about it directly, as* they
are hoisting down the boat, I see,"
“In a few minutes the boat was at the
shore, and a man with a thick serge coat and
' very large buttons jumped out and walked
, up toward the place where we were standing,
j “ Does your parson live here, mates V
says he, us he came up the gangway
“ Parson?’’ says old John Filler, who loves
. his jokes, ‘ to bo sure he does, and he’ll mar
ry you as well ,as any ona along the coast,
! as no doubt you have heard and come about/
| “This sally was received with shoots of
J laughter by all, except the mon with the big
' buttons, who pot on a most uncommon sad
; face, and . pulled out a largo handkerchief,
. with which he began to mop his eyes.
I " : Taint my getting married/ says he, * I be.
come about. Yonder ship be the collier Mory
Ann Darley. of Newcastle; and it be along of
Mary Ann Darley that I be here to-day/
i “ “ She then wants to get married, only it’s
j not to you put on such on uncommon long
1 face ? Well, I be sorry for you, mate, that I be.”
} “ Mary Ann Darley, who was the beloved
( wife of our skipper, George. Ualfred Darley,
; and after whom the ship was named, is dead
j dead as red herring,’ said the man with a voice,
j full of anguish, which made old Juhn look
ashamed of his, former jokes. ‘No, mates,'
j without any; more trifling with my feelings,
| which arc such ns I ean’tiespress, tell us where
, your dear parson lives, because our skipper’s
j mind be in such a state that he., says nothing
i hut the consolation’ your vicar can give, o*f
whom be baa. often beard can do him any good.”
. “ This compliment to our minister, the Piev..
Mr, Coles, whom we all loved, and of whom
1 we were not a little proud; and the expression
f of deep’sofiw, on the man’s face, turned all
i °ur sympithies tqward him, and .we all volun
teered to show him the way to tha vicarage.
“ In less than half an hour we saw our min
ister’s tall figure.,coming down the.villoge with,
..the man. with lha.big' .buttons, And In. another
’ ten tnihute'she was on board the vessel.
In about half an hour’s time the boat lan
ded Mr. Coles again, who, as he passed us,
stopped to shake hands with the Lieutenant,
who had ggain joined, us, bringing. his own
glass pith him.
“ Most interesting case,’ said the vicar. ‘ I
never saw a in an more completely prostrated
by grief; poor fellow! bis wife dead—just
three days—only .been married two years 1 I
nevec witnessed more sympathy exhibited.for.
any one than the whole crew expressed toward
h*m ; to see it .was quite charming. The man
with those large buttons is a good, honest,
sa;lo£lifca follow with the -tenderest of hearts.
I ifsas.deeply- interested in all the., particulars
of the young woman’s death which he told me.
He ended by beseeching mo to persuade the
skipper to bury his wife, as the craw can’t
bear, a dead body on board ship, and the skip-
is almost-always sitting and cry
ing- about it. h could not help agreeing with.
him,-tbat it use in keeping the poor
“Poor Skipper Barley,’ says my old wo
mao, ‘ won’t he feel lonesome just when he
goes back ta bis ship without hia missus V
“ ‘ Werry/ says I, ‘no doubt; hejain’t been
married more nor two years. Lor 1 what a
good sort of female she must have been, all the
crew seem so fund of her. Look you here, old
woman, through the glass ; d’ye see the figure
head of the Teasel yonder ?’
"‘Yes,’ says she, resting the glass on my
shoulder; ‘a'.figuteof woman in green gown
and yaller hair.’
“ ‘ That be no doubt an exact likeness of
Alary -Ann Barley,’ says I, ‘lt’s a very com
mon plan that, and as old Cap’n Bist, as com
manded the Tilda years ago, used to say,
‘ Whenever I follows my wife, I goes right; as
, - ,
I sticks her at the right end of my vessel, the
Tilda allers goes right.’
“ ‘ Lor!’ says my wife, again looking through
the glass; ‘ how beautiful Mrs. Mary,Ann Bar
ley must have been 1 Never did 1 see such a
bust, hair, and hearings. They are coming at
last; the boats are being Ist down.'
" The church bells tolled sadly through the
keen, frosty air, and there was not a heart
among all those on the cliff that did not feel
the deepest sympathy for the widowed skipper.
'■ Slowly, and with a long, measured stroke,
came the two boats, into the first of which we
had noticed the coffin being lowered.
11 The' bier had been taken down to the shore,
so when they Were all landed the coffin wae
placed upon it, and borne up the gangway by
lour of the crew.
“ The other four came behind; the skipper,
who appeared dreadfully agitated, leant heavily
on the arm of the mnn with the big buttons,
bis face buried in his handkerchief, from which 9
at times we could bear a deep sob.
“ Up the little street the procession went, and
among’all the womSn there was not an eye that
was not filled with tears/
. “' Poor fellow !’ said my wife, ‘ he do take
on terrible, to be sure, that he certainly does
How kind his friend seems to him, ’beint he
crying just a little, too V
“ Mr. Coles met him at the church-gate, and
with some sixty others they entered the church;
I and my wife stood at tho corner of the yard,
and waited till they came out, which they did
before long, and the coffin was lowered into the
grave as the clock ceased to chime four.
“ After it was all over Mr. Coles went up and
shook bands, in hiskkid way, with the skipper,
and tried to console him. Much ho seemed to
require comforting, poor fellow.
“'Just let me look once more at Mary
Hand’s coffin—one more look at Mary Hann
Barley's grave afore they, fill it forever I’
| . “<‘.Comei along, poor mate/'’ said his friend,
* and don’t take on so terrible. I have spoken
to the kind vicar, and he says be will see to the
.monument being erected right when you send
the design from Newcastle. Only think how
comforting it will be, when you are sailing
along past this here place with coals, to he able
just-to look through the glass end say,.’ Tcan
see the place .where underneath an illegant
tomb rests Mary Hanh Barley, what was so
MEMBER 46, 1864. NO, 13.
very dear to me as a wife, and all those who
knowed her as a sister.’
“ These words seamed to have a comforting
effect on the mind of the widower, who suffered
himself to be led away, saying, in tones which
deeply moved all, * Bless your good wicar, what
wrote that tract, which Wone prevents me fol
lowing my. Mary. Hann to the grave broken
’arted.’
"The bell began, once more to toll as the sex
ton filled up the grave, and hid-from the admi
ring eight of the boys the rows of brass nails,
which told that Mary Ann Barley was cut off
at the eaHy age of twenty-six.
“ ‘ Cot off as a 'tulip'/ said, the sexton, who
always improved the occasion to the bystand
ers, • and her business remains as an ostrich
alone in the dssert; and how I wonders he did
not have a brick grave, which would have
made her comfortable, and been 2s, 4d. into my
breeches pockets, which, as my wife has twins
again, would be acceptable— very/
Bless ye, John,’ says my old woman, as
we walked home. ‘ I don’t know what ye
would do without your missus, to get your
meals ready and take the insides out of fishes,
nor I without my old mao; and it’s thinking
of this that makes ins feel so sad about this
poor young man as has lost his Mary Ann,
which must have been very beautiful if she
was any way like the figure on the abip, whjch
was most pleasing as seen through your glass.’
“ I had that evening, I remember, left a net
on the sea shore, and as I passed the coast
guard station I saw the .Lieutenant watching
the ship, which bad nof yet started. He called
me up into the guard-room where he was seated.
‘ Bill,’ says he to me, / three of my men unfor
tunately are at Darling this week. I most
have at least five men to-night; so if you wish
to earn.a good night’s wages, be down at my
house before eight this evening.’
‘/Before the appointed time I was at the
Lieutenant’s house ; four of 'the coast-guard
were seated round the kitchen fire, each armed
with a musket and cutlass.
“ '"This in for you,' saicL the Lieutenant,
handing me a cutlass and a long pistol, ‘ now
follow me.’
“ ‘ "Where are we'to go to ?’,said Ito the man
with whom I had tq walk.
“ ‘ Tor ohnroh,’ says he. •
“‘ To ohnroh,’ says I. ‘ What a rum go 1’
“‘ A rnm go, indeed,” says he; ‘ only its
orders not to talk, so don’t ax no more ques
tions.’
“It was a clear night/ and the frosty tomb
stones looked like -ghosts as we entered the
church,-the key of which the Lieutenant had
got. In a few minutes we were seated round
the'stove in the vestry, which we had lighted.
A window was just opposite where I was sit
ting. I could see the light of the strange ship
in the offing, and a few yards before us was the
newmade grave of the skipper's wife,
“ I think we must have sat wore than three
hours when I noticed the light on the ship,
which it was my turn to watch, moving : and
through the night-glass I could see that a boat
was being lowered into the sea. I called the
attention of the Lieutenant to this fact, who
said, 1 all right, I thought so ; but as they
won’t think of landing nearer than the ruins,
we shall have to wait same time yet, I’ll be
bound.’ i
“ Id less than an hoar after this, jast as the
clock was chiming twelve, I distinctly saw fpnr
figures climbing over the dhurohwall. Two of
them stopped abort and bid' themselves under
the shadow of an-old tombstone, evidently to
keep watch. The other two, keeping as much
as possible out of the moonlight, advanced to
the new-made grave before the window.
“ I can’t tell you my horror when I saw the
two men whom I recognized as the skipper and
his friend with the big buttons, proceed to take
off their coats and set to work with shovel and
pickaxe to open the grave.
“ ‘ He can’t make up, his mind to leave his
dear wife, after all,’ I whispered to the man
next me, who was carefully examining the pri
ming of bis musket.
“‘Don’t talk, you fool,’ says he; ‘let him
have his wife if he likes. Bemember, silence
is orders, and no lights.’
“For another three-quarters of an hour we
sat quieter than ever. ‘ Now’s the time,’ says
the Lieutenant, i‘ they are lifting the coffin out.
You, John and George Packard go through the
south door, and mind you cut them off if they
try to get through the village gate ; don’t use
your 'muskets unless you can’t help it. but
don’t let them get away. Now, you three oth
ers come with me; directly I open the vestry
door, rush out and handcuff them'before they
have tjme to get op from the coffin which they
are now opening. Are you ready ?’ says the
Lieutenant, cocking his pistols. 1 Now, then,
here goes, and look sharp.’ With a loud crack ’
flew open the vestry door, and out we rushed ;
and before the two men had time to rise from
their kneee they were safely secured with the
handcuffs we had brought with us.
“ ‘ Very neatly-done, said the Lieutenant, as
in a few seconds time John came up to say that
they had secured both the other men.
“ * Take the coffin to the station-house,’ said
the Lieutenant; and so we did, and opened it
at Once. In it, instead of the young wife with
the yellow hair, we found a large collection of
silks, tobacco, and other contraband goods.—
The clever rascals bad bit upon the plan of
getting things on shore, knowing how strict the
officers wore in looking over every box that was
landed.
‘V Ah,’„ said the Lientenat, as we finished
overhauling the coffin, ‘ 1 expected as much;
directly I eaw that artful scoundrel with the
big buttons, I felt almost sure I had seen him
before; and new I know it’s no other than the
man who took me in so cleverly ten years ago,
when 1 had the command at Darling; but I’m
equal with him now, anyhow.’"-
Some men are kind because they are dull, as,
common horses are easily broken to harness. 1
Some are orderly, be cause they are timid, like
cattle driven by a boy with a wand. And
some are social because they are greedy, like
barnyard fowls that mind each other’s clacking.
Height orCHAitiry.—lJnlncing a young lady’s
corset to enable her to sneeze.
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Posters, Handbills, Bill-Hdads, Letter-Heads, and
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A Story of Romanes and Crimo,
The Brooklyn Eflgle of last Saturday has
a lengthy narrative, which, it assures us, is
entirely composed of facts. It says that about
two weeks since there was received into tha
Xunatic Asylum at Flatbush a young and
charming woman, richly dressed, and bearing
about her, all the evidences of intelligent*,
who was reported as a most despsrate* mani
ac. She was brought there by two of her
brothers and a sister-in-law, wfco desired that
the utmost care should be taken of her, a*
they were willing to pay for everything that
was necessary for her' comfort, and, if possi
ble, for her recovery from the dread malady
under which she was laboring. The unfortu
nate young woman is still an inmate of the
county asylum, and the following simple and
truthful recital of the causes which held to
the present wreck of her mindpoasesaesa mel
ancholy interest :
Louisa Tbomet, the unfortunate lady in
question, was horn in tbs. town of Liege, on
on the borders of France and Belgium; her
father being i| a wealthy burgher of the town,
and she having inherited in her own right an
amount which made a princely fortune in
the town of her birth. Daring heij youth
she was taught all the accomplishments which
young .ladies in her circle of society in Eu
rope are expected to possess, and at' the age
of eighteen she was, not only on account of
her accomplishments, but for personal beau
ty, considered the most attractive of all the
beauties of her native town. About six months
after entree into society, Louisa, at a party
one evening, met a young man who intro
duced to her a Monsieur Prosper Girandon,
a sculptor by profession. Louisa had imbibed
a love of painting and sculpture, and between
her and Monsieur Girandon, a friendship
sprung up, which soon, on the part of tl}e
young lady, ripened into love. One day,
about six months after the commencement of
of the intimacy, Louisa was summoned from
her room to receive a visitor—a lady closely
veiled, who, after a few preliminary ques
tions, asked her if aba knew who her affian
ced was—fur by this time it was understood
among her friends that Louisa and the un
known sculptor were engaged to he wedded.
Louisa told what she knew of him, when
the stranger, throwing up her veil, and dis
closing the features of a beautiful woman,
informed her that tha man on whom she
had_ bestowed her affections was no sculp
tor, bat was in reality no other than the.
Count de Flanders, the heir apparent to the
throne of Belgium ; and moreover, that his
pretended affection for her was only meant to
accomplish her ruin, and warned her against
him. The poor girl coaid not believe tha
tale, end hastily dressing herself-she ran to
the lodgings of her lover, to hear from bis
own lips the truth or falsity of the tale.
To her astonishment the quondam sculptor
acknowledged the truth of tbs story, and urged
in extenuation of his deception his love for her,
and the necessity of concealing it for political
motives. He told her that be meant to marry
her, and instead of the friendly warning of her
strange visitor having had the desired effect,
it only served to increase the poor girl’s Jove
for the Count, who was now, under his own
title, dearer to her than he had ever been a
sculptor ; and the consequence was that the
princely villain succeeded in robbing her of her
virtue under the promise of marrying her as
soon as certain political obstructions were re
moved. From time to time the marriage was
put off, and when shame could no longer be
concealed, her seducer still under tho mask of
of honest love, proposed to her to come to this
country and remain till after the birth. He
then promised to meet her on the borders of
France. To this she consented, and accompa-.
nied by her brother, who, it was agreed, should
represent himself as her husband, they came
to Brooklyn and settled in the Eighth ward, as
man and wife. She became largely acquainted
and made many friends. Six weeks after her
arrival a healthy boy was born,► and with it
were born new anticipations of a speedy resto
ration of her good name. Five days after a
letter in the hand-writing of her lover came.—
The brother, supposing it contained the loofced
for news of the appointment of a marriage-day,
bronght it to her room. She read it—a heart
rending scream was uttered—she fainted; a'
physician was sent for; he pronounced her
hopelessly insane. The letter- said that for
etate'reasons, the tnarrisga would have to be
postponed for three or four years. When the
poor girl recovered from her swoon it was only
as a maniac. She insisted in tha most frantio
manner, on being taken to the St. Nicholas
Hotel, where she believed her affianced was
waiting to take her back to his princely home.
An eminent physician was sent for, and he pre
scribed a soothing draught, which was admin
istered to her in hops that by a heavy sleep her
reason might be restored. Daring the absence
of her attendant the unfortunate women admin
istered some of her medicine to the baby, and
she became so violent that it was found neces
sary to have her, conveyed to the insane asy
lum. After her departure, the child took sick
and died on the following, l day, and the fact
having been noised around that the unfortu
nate lady had given it her own medicine in
mistake, it was thought that the case was one
which called for judicial investigation, and the
coroner was notified to hold an inquest on tbs
body, which ha did, rendering a verdict in ac
cordance with the above facts.
—Diffidence.^— lt is an acquaintance that
hourly picks jour pockets; that makes yon hob
and nob ■with fustian, when otherwise you
might jostle it with court raffles.
—The inventor of gunpowder, —They say
a parson first invented gunpowder, bat ons
cannot believe it till ebe is married.
—True worth.—Traa worth, like the ros*,'
will blush at its own sweetness.
Friendship.—Oh, friendship ! thou divinest
alchemist, that man should ever profane thee 1
—A Maiden’s voice.—Her voice—’twoald
oo ij a nail, out of a heart of oak.
—Love of the sea.— Love the sea? 1 dote
upon it—from the beach.