VOLUME X. THE FORGED WILL. Some years ago, there lived in a quiet Ger tnan village an old farmer, named Gottfried, who, having in his youth suffered di'sappoint tnent in a love affair through the inconstancy of a fair peasant, passed the remainder of his life in a state of morose and discontented celi bacy. He was assisted in the labors of his farm by his two nephews, Hans Engclheitn and Karl Landerman, whose characters were so dissimi lar, that it was no wonder they were frequent- ly quarreling. llnns was cheerful, candid, and generous ; while Karl was morose, treacherous, and vindictive. These were qualities which naturally recommended him to his uncle, to whom he reported every dance on the green and every glass which Hans enjoyed, exaggerating them in a manner which led the old man to be lieve the latter much too gay and dissipated to be entrusted with any pert of the management of his affairs. Thus Karl• grew in favor with his uncle, while he gratified his envy of his cousin, and prepared the way for his own suc cession to the farm. Hans at length found his position so uncomfortable, exposed as 116 was to injurious suspicions and unmerited obloquy. that he left the farm and his fatherland to seek his fortune in the far west. Twenty years passed away, and old Gottfried was still alive, and more morose than ever.— Karl managed the ninth's of the farm, with the assistance of a hardworking and good-tempered youth, named Peter Mitzer, over whom he so tyrannized, that the poor fellow would have left the farm a hundred times, but for his poverty. had Karl been a more estimable person, he. would have been as much an object of commis eration as Peter, for the older his uncle grew, the worse his temper became ; and the only source of consolatien he had (for, like his uncle, he was a bachelor) was in anticipating the time when the old man would give up the ghost, and he should become the owner of the farm. The happy day nt length arrived ; old Gottfried died, and was buried, and there being np other claimant, Kati took possession of the farm, as next of kin, without any opposition. We must now relate the fortune of Hans.— lle had obtained employment on a farm in one Of the western, States of America, and, in the course of few years was able, by industry and frugality, to have sufficient money td purchase a few acres of land and a cow. Then he mar ried a very amiable girl. the daughter of a set tler from the same district of Germany as him self, and all went well and happily with him. But, as he advanced in years, lie experienced n growing desire to return to his fatherland, from which he was only withheld by the disinclina -tion of his wifo to leave a country in which were settled her parents and her sister. At length, however, his wife died ;' and then he hesitated no longer. but sold all his propeity. antrreturned to Germany, taking with him his only child, a blue-eyed, fair-haired girl, who was now his only consolation. Karl Landerman was smoking his pipe at the door of the firm-house, mentally calculating the profits of the harvest just gatheredln. when Bans and his daughter came up, accompanied by the notary of the village. He touched his hit to the latter, without rising or removing the pipe from his mouth, and then glanced in quiringly toward his cousin, whom he did not recognize. " Good evening, farmer," said the notary. " This good man and.l have a little business to settle with you:" • " What business ean'he have with mo re turned Karl, in a surly tone. " I don't know him." " Then I must introduce him." said the no tary. " This is your cousin, Hans Engelheim who went to America, and who has now re turned to settle down in his native land, on the farm which has becoine hiltby the death of his lamented uncle." . " His !" grunted Kati, his brow dampening. "The farm is mine ; the old man made Inc his heir." " Possibly," returned the notary ; " but you must prove that to be the case, friend Lander man, for your_cousin, here, is son of the de 'ceased's brother, while you descend from his youngest sister." " Ay, but there is a will," said Karl, eyeing his cousin maliciously. " Como in, and satis fy yourself, friend 'notary."' All four entered the kitchen, where every thing looked just the same as when Hans had eaten his supper there. " The olci_walnut-wood cheat stood against the wall in its old place. and above it hung die sieve and the billhook, beneath the shelf on which stood the milk-pail, .thesugarler, and the pots of preserved fruit. "The old man told me il hundred times that I should have everything,".Observed. Karl, go ing to the chest ; " and hers shall find the will, I have no doubt." He had thought his possession of the farm FO secure, that he had.never searched for the will ; 40F upcle ever informed him where he, would 4 1 d , knewthat an paper s , f 14 ,3 .123110T1tC)114255A.1120214202C - c v T ail•ac:4242 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER A consequence were kept in a secret recess at the bottom of the strong chest, and there he had no doubt he should find it. Ho took a bundle of papers from the recess, and glanced over the m, but, to his confusion and dismay, the will was not among them. " It must be up stairs," said he ; and return- 1 ing the papers to their depository, he ascended the stairs in feverish haste. 1 " If there is no will, your claim cannot be disputed;" obseried the notary, turning to! Hans. The latter made no comment, and in a few minutes Karl came down again, his couple nance showing that his search had been unsuc- cessful " I can't find it," said he ; " but I am quite sure it is somewhere . aboutrthe house." " Well, look again—take time," observed the notary. " Your cousin does not wish to turn you out either to-day or to-morrow ; but, if yr u cane ,t find the document in a week or ten days. I advise you to give up the farm without hav ing recourse to litigation, which wlll be both expensive and fruitless." With this excellent piece of advice, which Karl was not in a frame of mind to appreciate, the notary took his leave, followed by Hans and his daughter. Karl passed the greater part of the' night in searching for the will. which he had supposed old Gottfried to ha‘ e mule, but without finding it, for the simple and suffidient reason that no such document hail ever existed. The promises of his uncle hall only been made to secure his fidelity, and re concile him to hard work and meagre rations, the olljoet accomplished, he was too selfish to trouble himself about the reward. This con- viction dawned upon Karl's mind, whim he be came satisfied that further search would be fruitless ; and the anathemas which he mutter• ed against his dead.uncle were frightful. There was no help for it, however, and a f:w days afterwards he gave up possession of the farm fo his cousin. One night, a few months after this change in the position of affrirs, Gertrude Engelheim ryas standing at the door of the farm-house, listen• ing to the sweetly plaintive song of the night ingale, which was borne on the soft and still air from the neighboring wood, and looking up at the bright stars which gemmed the dark-blue canopy of the universe. The honeysnekel which trailed over the porch exhaled its deli cats perfume, and from a little distance the night air wafted the exquisite scent of a blos somy bean field. Save the melody of PllllOlllOl and the gentle whispering of tree, no sound was heard. All was still ashen the twink ling stars, to which the maiden's soft blue eyec: looked up, shone above the green and perfumed bowers in which the first pair of human kind slept the sleep of innocence and peace. In a few minutes, however, footsteps can* slowly across the read, and I'r:ter Mitzcr ap peared, leaning over the rustic gate; and look ing towards the flowery porch, in which the farmer's daughter was half concealed. A brighter light shone from the maiden's eyes, and a deeper tint of rose diffirsed her fair check. as she recognized the youth ; and she tripped lightly down the narrow path leading to the gate. Just as he reached it, a dark figure emerged from the gloom of a clump of fir trees and stole on tipote into the house. " What a beautiful night !" said the young peasant, as Gertrude reached the gate. "Speak lower," whispered Gertude. “Fath er has gone to bed." •_ " Do you think he would be re+•y. angry if I.e knew that.—". Peter hesitated. " I don't know," said the maiden, casting down her eyes. "He loves me very much : and I sometimes think it would be better to be less secret ; we should then know his mind at once, and my poor heart would be at rest." " Ho is my master,. Gertrude. and I am poor," rejoined Peter. " Ile might think it an unwarrantable presumption in me to love his daughter. But did you not say he had gone up to bed ?" "Yes," replied Gertrude, turning round, and looking towards the Germ•house, where a light shone at an upper window, and a dim figure of a man was indistinctly seen between the curtain and a candle ; •• there is his shadow reflected upon the curtain." Then some one must have crept into the house," exclaimed Peter ; " fur I Atilt- swear T saw a man in the room just now—he stooped down near the fire-place." "You frighten me, Peter !" said Gertrude turning pale, and clinging to his attn. " Arc you sure ?" " I could not fancy such a thing," returned the young peasant, throwing first one leg and theh the other over the gate. " Let Us' go and see." Pho trembling girl suffered Peter to lead the way, and her heart beat quickly as they enter• ed the kitchen, which served as the ordinary sitting room, and which we have already brief ly noticed. To .thp .eurprise of both, and of PeUR Mtn!. h? ,particular. there was no one Allpntowp, Pa., April 2, 1856. visible, nor had a single article been displaced. • "'Phis looks like witchcraft-!" said the puz zled youth, when he had looked under the table and behind the door. " You nmst have been mistaken," observed Gertrude, beginning to breath more freely. Peter scratched behind his right car, and .looked perplexed, but made no observation.— At that moment a sneeze sounded from the vi cinity of the walnut•wood chest, and Gertrude and her lover exchanged glances. " It must be the cat," suggested the former. " She must have got shut up in the corn chest." " If I had not seen that fellow, I might think so," returned Peter, advancing towards the chest. " What is the matter, Gertrude ?" said the farmer, from the stairs. " Peter thinks there is some one hid in the elm chest, father," replied the young girl. " Peter !" echoed her father, " what is Peter doing het e?" Gertrude and the young peasant both blushed as the farmer came down the stairs and advanced towards them. " Peter came to the gate to me, and while we stood there be saw a man here," replied Ger trude, in a trembling voice ; " and when we came in we heard a sneezeTrom the chest." At that moment a second sneeze, louder than the first, startled nll three. "'Raise the lid, Peter," said the farmer; "We w;11 see who this intruder is." Gertude crept timidly behind her father, and the young peasant proceeded to lift up the heavy. lid of the chest. When this was accomplished, the ungainly from and ill-favored countenance of Earl Lptlermen were revealed, crouching down in the chest, into which - he had crept for concealment when he heard Gertrude and Peter approaching the house. The dust at the bottom of the chest had stirred up by his entrance, and it wns this which, by causing him to sneeze, led to his discovery. As he slowly raised himself, and stepped out of the chest. his features ex p .essed a strange compound of feelings—shame, fear, end cunning blended together. " What do you do here ?" inquired Hans, as soon ns he had recovered from. surprise. " Well, I have no business here, I admit," replied Karl, his voice expressing the same feel ings ns hi; cluntenancel " but I dreamt last night that uncle Gottfried's will was under 'a stone in this 'kitchen, and I stole in to look ; but, before I could do so. I heard these people approaching, and not liking to be caught where I had no business, I got into the chest." " Well, take yourself off." said Harts " Them can never be any friendship between us, for I cannot trust you ; so let me see your balk." Karl sneaked out of the home, and Peter was about to follow, after wishing his master and Gertrude gond night, when Hans bade him stay a moment, and desired his daughter to go to beA: • " Peter," said he, after a pause, "you and Gertrude arc more together than i should like, if I did not believe you to be a sober and indus trious lad. T suppose there has been some love making between you ?" " Master," said the young peasant, with the earnestness of sincerity, " I love Miss Gertrude as if she were a part of my life, and have thought of her and dreamt of her from the first moment I saw her." " Well, work for me a year longer. and we will then talk furthei about the matter," said Thos. " My daughter is very young, and you are young enough to wait that time ; it' Ger Crude is willing to accept you as her husband in a year's time she shall be yours." • " Master, you have made me the happiest lad in the village," returned Peter ; "and I am sure Gertude will be as happy as I am, whew.' she knows what you have prtimised." With that he went home, and Hans secured the door very carefully. About a fortnight afterwards, the villgge no• tary called upon the farmer, and informed him that Karl had again dreamt that his uncle had ' deposited his will under a certain stone in the kitchen floor, and,for his satisfaction, wished to make an exaniination. He made no ohjection and a loose stone was found near the fireplace, which, being raised, disclosed to view a folded paper. The notary eagerly picked it up, and on opening it found that it was really a will, bear ing the'signature of Gottfried, and, bequeathing the farm, with till the live and dead stock, to his nephew. Karl Landerthan. The notary car ried Off the document, and legal proceedings were immediately - commenced to re:over posses - sioriof the property. under the so strangely dis- • covered will. Hans, in his perplexity, had re course to tho counsel of a shrewd lawyer, who, after hearing all the Circumstances. procured a copy of the will and perused it attentively, but could gather no hopolrom it, the intentions of the deceased being so clearly expressed. Still he advised Hans to keep possession, and let the cause go for trial ; nothing being, ho said, so uncertain as the issue of a ,trial at civil law. On the Walla had an opportunity of.examining the original document, and, on holding it up to the light, discovered that the water-mark was of more tecent date than that of the d writing, which was so clear an internal proof of forgery. that Karl's advocate immediately threw up his brief. Karl fled the country when he found that his villainy was discovered, and Hans and his daughter were left in undisturbed posses sion of the farm. Gertrude, at th a end of the year, liecaMe the wife of Peter Mitzer, who justified, by his exemplary conduct ns a hus band and father, the good opinion which Hans had formed of him at first. ALL MANKIND ARE BARBERS I'll prove to you, my friend, I Lope, That none a doubt can harbor, That all the world's n barber shop, And every man a bather. Some slmt•o to mako themselves look cent, And some becnuso 'tie funny And brokers shave you in the street, Add only shavo for money. Some share their foreheads slick and clean, If with low heads they're bothered, But then 'tis plainly to be seen, That they're the ones that lathered. To court a girl with clorpnce, The dandy never freti'her, But lathers her with compliments, And shares her when he gets her The mnidens also, nor and then, 'Who ore so fond of sporting, • Soft sunp the shallow minded men, And shave theta while they're courting But 1:1C11 and girls who thus w:11 boast, Of soaping while they tarried, Will (Ind at last with bitter cost, That both got shave,' when married. ~ Don't stay Long." It is rarely indeed that we have read any• thing more truthfully pathetic than the sub joined waif, Which we find floating among our exchanges. Would that every husband in our town might read and profit by it. " Don't. stay long, husband," said a young vlice tenderly in my presence one evening. as her husband was preparing to go out. The words themselves were insignificant, but the look of melting fondness with which they were accompanied, spoke volumes. It tool all the . whole vast depths of a woman's love—of her grief when the light of his smile, the source of all her joy, beamed not brightiy, ution her. " Don't stay long, husband," and I fancy I saw the loving gentle wife setting alone aux iously. counting the moments of her husband's absence, every few mommts !tinning to the door to see if he was in sight and finding that he was not. I thought I could hear her exclaim. ing in disappointed tones, '• not yet." " Don't stay long, husband," and I again thought I could see the young wife, rocking nervously in the great armchair, and weeping as though her heart would Ureak, as' her thoughtless " lord and toaster" prolonged his stay to a wearisome length of time. you that have wives to say—" f'on't stay long," when you go forth, think of them kindly when you are mingling in the busy hive Of life,. and try, just a little, to make their hoines and hearts happy, ( ( or they tire gems too seldom re placed. You cannot find amid the pleasures of the world, the peace and joy that a quiet Nome blessed with such a woman's presence will of • ford. . " Don't stay long, husband," and the young wife's look seemed to say, " for here in your own sweet home is a loving heart, whose mu sic is hushed when you are absent ; here is a soft breast for you to lay your head upon, and here are pure lips unsoiled by sin, that will pay you with kisses for coining back soon." To Make Glossy Shirt Bosoms Those ladies - who wish to see their " lords" wearing nice glossy shirt bosoms, will do well to observe the fulowing rectipt : Take two ounces white gum arabic, powder it in a pitcher. and pour on a pint or more of water, according to the degree of strength you desire, and then, having covered it, let it set all night. In the morning, filter it carefully from its dregs into a clean bottle, cork it and keep for use. A table-spoonful of gum water stirred into a pibt of starch made the usual way will give to either white or printed shirts a look of newness that, nothing else can restore, to them after washing The Dead Sea The Dead Sea is over 1,300 feet below the lev el of the Mediterranean, and nearly 4.000 be• low Mount Olivet, from, which it is 15 miles riis• tent and distincntly visible, a view of which is given in Barclay's Panorama of Jerusalem and ins vicinity. The waters of this 'sea have a greater specific gravity than any known, with a salty and pungent taste, which stings the tongue like saltpetre. Bayard Taylor says : " With a log of wood for a pillow, 'one might sleep as on ono of the patent mattresses." On the shores, washed up by the waters, the inhabitants pick up asphaltum, from which is made the sacred trinkets sold to pilgrims. Who was Cain's Wife I How often has this inquiry been made ? To a certain class of minds such a question possess es more importance than the gravest investi gations in theology. Brother Weaver, of St. Louis, in answer to a correspondent, thus 1.0- .st:7011(1s through the 'Herald and Era to the in• quiry, '• Who was Cain's wife?" A subscriber asks this singular question.— We answer, she was Cain's wife. That's all we know 'about her. That is all the account says of her, save that she was the mother of Enoch. It is said that Cain went into the land of Nod, and-we suppose that ho took his wife with him, as any good husband, would. In the land of Nod they had Enoch, and probably other children not a few, and grandchildren, for they built a city there. The city probably was not so large as St. Louis is, but it very likely was a large household, of which Cain was patriarch. It might have been his own and the £tmilies of his children living in squat° dwellings. - What Cain's wife's name was, and who her parents were we are not certified. She might have been the daughter of Adam and Eve, or some of their children. She was probably closely related to Cain, or a sister or a niece, or Something nearer than cousin. Cousins tharry in our day when the world is full of strangers. It wouldn't have been so great a wonder for gain to marry his sister, when there .were no other girls in the world, and. no laivs of mar• riage, and nobody else to claim her affections The Command was to marry ar; multiply kind replenish the earth. And we resume it was pretty well obeyed, fur it seem, well replenish • ed now, and likely to be. We know nothing about the number of child ren and grandchildren the first pair had. No doubt it was a goodly number, both of male and female: : else who inhabited Cain's city, and who were the wives of Enoch, Irad, Mau na, Nethusaleh, and Lnmech, the bigamist? We haven't got the whole story of those days ; only a drop in the bucket, as it were. We have the descending lino of generation from Adam downward and but little more. LOVE What is love' To some nn ocean, Made to wreck seine fond devotion, In its youthful happiness. To some a course of innate sorrow, But speaks to us of joy to-morrow, Yet none 'tie known to bless. Whet is love? That never ranges. That from ono object never changes, What is loco sincere? 'Tis choicest gift of Mayan, That could to man ou earth ha given, - 'Tis ti gift of all most dear. Circuses ii► the United States We learn from a contemporary that out of twelve equestrain companies travelling - in the Smith this Winter, three have been embargoed by the severe weather, viz : Rosston's, at Baton Rouge : Butler's. at New Orleans, and Orton's,at Trinity, Arkansas. Of the rest, dur ing last week. Robinson & Eldred's was at Charleston, S. C. ; Ballard & Baily, at Macon, Ga. ; Mabie's, at. Selma. Ala ; Washburn's, at Mobile, Ala. ; Spalding & Rogers' exhibition steamers. Fioating Palace, and James Raymond at Bayou. Sara. on the Mississippi, and their new show steamer, the Banjo, at Shreveport, on Red River. Charini & Nicolo's circus is in Ilavana ; Stout & Reynolds' circus in Austin, Texas, and llarper . & Antonio's circus at Vic toria, Texas. In consequence of incessant rains and extreme cold, the business has been quiet disastrous in the South this Winter. The ten circus companies remaining at the North arc making great preparation for the traveling season of the ensuing. Summer, com mencing during the last week in April. Welch & Lent, Rivers & Deriotis', and Colonel Cush ing start from near Philadelphia; . "ding & . Rogers' land company, from Binghampton, N. Y. ; Dah Rice, from Girard, Pa. ; Van Am burg & Co:, from Covington, Ky. ; Sands & Nathans, from Detroit, Mich. ; North & Co., from Chicago. 111. ; and Flagg & Co., (anew company from Boston, Mass. The notable fea ture of the season in circuses is a new eques trian, establishment, originated by Spalding & Rogers, to start from Washington, D. C., with railroad cars built expressly for the transporta tion of the _company, and with adjustable axles to run on any gunge, and so constructed as to be hauled daily from the track to the exhibition ground, and there used as dressing rooms, tick et-offices, refreshment rooms, museums, &c. This concern is got up expressly for the cities and large towns of New York and New Eng land. The cost of the foregoing twenty-three circus companies, exclusive of the expenSive steamers of Spalding & Rogers on the Western waters, cannot be less than $750,000, and as the average daily expense is about $350, over $BOOO is paid out .by them, in the aggregate, daily. For the prosecution of their business, over 2,000 persons and 2,000 horses are :re qtdred. The Albany Evening Journal publishes a list of the battles fought during the year 1855, with the number of people killed at each, beginning with the bombardment of Shanghai by the French, at which ono hundred fell, and ending with the fall of Kars, at which 2,600 fell, by which list it appears that 73 battles have oc curred during the year, or more than one for each week with an average loss of over 1000 men killed in each. This list does not include those who have fallen by disease, or in skirmishes, I nor the wounded, disabled, and those who have died in the hospital or the ambulance, or were 1 , irreparably maimed, or missing, or prisoners. The number left dead upon the field usually comprises only about one fourth of the entire loss in a battle. By this ride, the entire num ber swept out of useful existence by the war of 1855 must have reached over 300,000 men.— No year has presented so bloody a record since Waterloo. liow to Judge a Horse. If the color be light sorrel or chesnut, his feet, legs, and face white, these arc marks of kindness: • If he is broad and full between the eyes he may be depended on as a horse of good sense and capable of being trained to almost any thing. As respebts such horses, the more kindly you treat them, the more kindly you will be treated in return. Nor will a horse of this description stand the whip if well fed. If you want a safe horse, avoid one that is dish faced ; he may be so far gentle as not to scare, but there will be too much go ahead in him to be safe for everybody. If you want a fool, but' a horse of great bot tom, get a deep bay, with not a white hair upon him ; if his face is a little dished, so much the worse. Tho Wyandotte Corn. The Prairie Farmer, talks as if • it knew all about this variety of corn, and gives us the fol• lowing : The Wyandotte, or South western Squaw Corn is one of those varieties of soft white corn in much favor with the Indians for home con sumption, as it is easily made ready for use without the aid of a mill. Indeed, it is more than probable that it cannot be kept long, if reduced to meal ; and it is equally certain that it will not do for shipping, in any form, being almost, if not quite, destitute of the oil so ne cessary to its preservation in bulk. There can be no doubt; that as far south as Morgan county, in Illinois, the variety trill ripen rea sonably well, though probably not much, if any, north of there. But when ripened, it is fit only [for distilling, or for starch ; though for making whiskey it may do, and yet we doubt even that, and Warn . our readers against plant ing it except as an experiment." 1b1i1" 111111 (InbL Ir7The following lines On presenting a lady with a rose,' are neatly turned : I prny theo on that brow of thino, To woar this blushing flower fi r me; Por of a lovo as puro ns wino Tho roso will a fitting enillins Its leaves aro like thy lips in him, Its fragrance like thy balmy breath Ah ! if thy heart wore real and true, I'd lova thee, Jennie, until death. TJ'The Lynn News, tells a good story of two V boys, one of whom was boasting of tho beau- ties of his father's house. It's got a cupola, said he, and we aro going to have something else. ':What is it' asked his, interested compan ' EM Why I heard Father say to mother this Morning that it's 'going to have a_mortgage on As lifo is sometimes bright and fair, And sometimes dark and lonely, La us forget its rain and care, And note its bright hours only," Et:TA pediar, overtoook another of hib tribe, on the road, and thus accosted him : " Hallo, friend what, do you carry r " Rum and Whiskey," was the prompt re• Ply • " Good !" said tho other ; " You may go ahead, I carry gravestones." rile who iu this world would rise, Must read the Register nud advertise [l:7'Four things come not back ; the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the neglected opportunity. 1, yo t r,-girls who have for they shall not be !or - hero is • lady out in Arkansas who has d : .venteen sbands during sixteen years, and is still alive nd ready for another !
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers