1 y 1 0 W. JACOSY, FiiblisberVj Trntb and Right God and our Country $2 00 id Advanceper Annnnr. VOLUJrlti 17. BLOOMS BURG. COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY .10, NUMBER 12 It PAIR OP 'THIS' NyjMir'I t. V r Yhe star of.the north - IS PlftlllSHED KTEBT- WEDKESDAY BV " " IV M; U. JACOB V. ' Office on lafa St;, Ird Square below Market, TERMS Two Dollar and Fifty Cents in advance. Knot paid till the end oT the -ear, Three Dollars will be charged. No subscriptions taken for a period less hhan six months ; no discontinuance permit 'ted until all arrearages are paid ontsss at 'the option of the editor- ' RATES OF ADVERTISING : t TEN LINES CONSTITUTE A SQUARE. 'One Square, one or three insertions, SI So Every subsequent insertiog.,lBss than 13, 50 "Use column -one year, 50 00 Administrators' and Executors' notices, 3 00 Transient advertising payab'e in advance, all other doe after the first insertion. 'Ireland Appeal to the Fenians. All yoa who fcve your native land Erin, the brightest spot on earth, "Come jein us as every heart and hand To free ttfe land that gave yon birth. Tl.e day, the boor has come at last; . The Fenian spirit is aboard 'Arise and strike! Revenge the past! Strike ioryour home, yovrfaitb, your God Let him who halts renounce his share In Em men's blood fOreverrracrre ; Let him con fessliis craven fear Deny the name his father bore, -And when the victory is won, And centuries of "wrong 'redressed, "Erin will blush that Mich a son Was nurtured at her bleeding breast. 'Hark, to the cry ! Freedofn or death ! ! Can Fenians hear that shoot, and pause? 'Nor dtxticatetheir latent breath Hnucb, an hour to such a cause ? 'Come to the rescne, ope and alt The'God of battles be "your trust, Obey )our bteedmg conntry's call Tread tbe oppesso'r'in the dust. The tyrant's heel is on her breast, He mocks her groan with fiendish scorn, How long O Lord ! shall the oppreo'd 15-j with this mighty anguih torn ? Shall Erin longer bear the rod ? U there no power in heav'u to save? Forbid it, O forbid it, God ! Give Erin freedom or the grave. - 'Come, every gallant heart and true, Prom every sea, Irorn everp land 1 Tiltjrisn of freedom 'tis to you She hits her iron shackled hand; "Come break her chain's, lift op her bead, 'O. how the dust her beauty mare! 'Come, and revenge her manyr'd dead ' Ai.d et her harp araoag the stars. EeTisloa of the Scriptures. The "head men" of the party which em. trces all the "isms'' that now afH.ct our tmhappr. country, held a meeiimr at Chica go, Son Jay evening, and resolved upon a -rirtur nritimi nf tta InL.ta. U-' i: : an age of ""p'rogTes." "Our "glorious coun- try" has outgrown the Bible of our fathers, j ' The Contitaiion is being amended to as to I - conform ro rhe new o'rt?er of things. Why I not the Bible? One of the modern saints of ! the Republican party proclaimed several jears ao the necessity of ' an anti-slavery I 'Constitution, an ami slavery Bible, and an! uriti-slavery God." The Constitution being ' "nearly fixed op so a's to conform to their .' J trelesliaf ideas, it is proper that they now j commence iheir raid upon the Bible. j The high priest who led iff aube Cbica- - go meeting etles bimselt Rev T. J. Con-1 -ant.'?- Tbe "reverend" speaker traced the; history of eur vernacular Bible and argued 1 that this revision was by no rneans so infaT- , hole and sacred as its antiquity was apt to lead some peraons to believe "but that be ing erroneous, it was not in reality the in spired work of God. . That Lis readers might have no doubt of the purpose, of "the new revision," he . inoted a passage near the close of the book . of Job, not found in King James edition: if my land "cries out against me, and all i s Jurrowa weep; if I hare taken its fruits . without pay and made its tenants sigh out their breath, let thorns come forth in place tf wheat, ai.d weeds in place of" foraga " . and in a lew words applied to the Southern 'half .of this country, and the punishment viited npon its people for their Bin. The old Bible is ceYta'mly no gaide 'to - 1hoe in authority now. There will, how ever, remain a class of "old fogies" in tbe trountry,' vrtio will insist that this new revi sion of the Scriptures shall not be adopted .by tbe Stars, and who will adhere to tbe old Volume, and to' clamor for a return to tbe !d institutions which Abolitionism has been tiearly successful in subverting. What the result of the conflict will be, remains with God and the people. ? , j . -Th following advice can be best appre ciated by editors ; Doa't write poetry. If yoa cannot help it, if it sings in your head and will beteard,why then there is no other .. !' wa-f an ,0 Pnt 'l on. raPer and send it to ' ' the printer.. But try to help it if you can. There are only two or, three poets alive at any one time. A great poet makes and marks an age, and poor poets, or those who think they are ' poets and are not, are as 1 ; rIeD'y as tilaciberries. . Every hamlet has its poetaster. O how much valuable white paper ia spoiled by those Who think thsy can 'write poetry !TYoa may write a correct J.,Ter!3 .Wl.ut- faultless rhymeaad. there is not , ! Cgieaabt poetry in it. Peetry requires a ' . peculiar faculty, the imagination ; yea may - have sanies, sense and- learning, and the r- pivr of eTpressiorj'so to write prosa as to f. lira! iiarke or Johnson, aad afia r aj make -. - ? jroarpclf ri'.icoloua: by trjing your l and at '- .. pcoiry.t 'Vrite prose. : " ; Tbe Troubles of a 33c reliant. Mr. Frazier sat reading, in bis counting room. He was in the midst of a piece of interesting news, when a lad came to the door and said "Do yon want a boy, sir?" Without lifting bis eyes from the paper, Mr. Frazier answered "No," to the appli cant, in rather a rough-way. Before the lad bad reached the street, con science had compelfed thtt merchant to lis ten to a rebuking sentence. "Yoa might have spoken kindly to tbe poor boy, at least," said conscience. "This is an opportunity." Mr. Frazier let the paper fall before him, aud turned to look at'the lad. He was small but clean. The "merchant tapped at one of the windows of' the counting-room, and the boy glanced back over his shoulder. A sign from the 'UeYchant caused him to return. ''What did yoa say just now ?" "Do you want a boy. sir?'' Tbe lad re peated the words he had spoken, hesitating ly, a few minutes before. Mr. Frazier looked at him with a sudden ly awakened interest. He had a fair girlish face, dark brown eyes and hair, and though slender and delicate in appearance, stood erect, with a manliness of aspect that show ed, him to be already conscious of duty in the world. But there did not seem to be much of that stuff in him that is needed for the battle of life. "Take a chair," said Mr. Frazier, an in voluntary respect lcr the lad getting posses sion of his mind. The boy sat down, with hi large, clear eyes fixed on the merchant's face. "How old are you ?" 'I was iwelvejas't month, sir," replied the toy. 'What splendid eye,'' said the merchant to himself. "And I've Been Ibem before, i dartc and lustrons as a woman's." j Away back in the past the thoughts of Mr. Frazier went, borne cn the light from those lustrous eyes, and for. some moments he forgot the present in the past. But when he came back into the present agiin, be bad a softer heart toward the stranger lad. ' You should go to school for a year or two longer," he said. , I must help m mother," replied tbe boy. "Is your mother very poor ?" "Ye- sir, and she's sick."- Tbe lad's voice shook a Iittle,and his sort woman's eyes grew brighter in tears that filled them. Mr. Frazier had already forgotten the l point of interest in tbe news after which his mind was searching, when the boy inter rupted him. "I don't want a lad myself," said Mr. Frazier, "but may be I can speak a Sd word for you, and that would help I OU KDOW I think you would make an honest and useful tad. But yoa are not strons." Oh, yes sir, I'm strong !" And the boy stood up in a brave sprrit. The merchant looked at him with a s'.eid ily increasing interest. "What is your name he asked "Chartes Leonard, sir." -There was an instant change in the mer chant's manner, and be turned his face so far away that the boy's eyes could not see r. expression. Fur a long rime be sat still and silent 60 long that ihe boy wondered. "Is your father living?" Mr. Frazier did not look at the boy, but still kept his face away. His voice was low, and not very evert. - "No, sir He died four years ago." "Where?" The voice was quick firmer. "In London, sir." and "How long since you came to America11" 'Two years " "Have you been in this city ever since?" "No sir. We came here with my uncle, a year ago. But be died a month afier our arrival.". There came another long silence in which the lad was not able to see the merchant's countenance. But when tie did look at him again, there was Bach a' new and kind ex pression in the eyes, which seemed almost to devour his face, that be felt assurance in his heart that Mr. Frazier was a good man and would be,a good friend to his mother. "Sit there for a little while," said Mr. Frazier, and turning to bis desk, he wrote a brief note, ia which, without permitting tbe lad to see what he was doing, he enclosed two or three bank bills. "Take ibis to your mother'ho said, handing the note to the land. "Yoo'U try and gel me a place, Bir, won't yon 5" - Ihe little boy lifted to birn an pealing look. ap- "Ob, yes. Yon shall have a good place. Bat stay, yon have not told me where you ire "At No. Melon street.'i "Very well." Mr. F. noted the street and number. "And now take that note to your mother." The merchat did not resume bis newspa per after that tad departed. For a lime he sat with his face so that no one saw its ' ex pression. If spoken toon any matter he answered briefly, and with nothing of his usual interest in business. . Tbe change in him was so marked that one of his partners asked biro if he were not well. "Feel a little dull," he evasively answered. Defore his nsnal time Mr. Frazier left his store and went home. ' Aa he opened the door of bis dwelling, distressed cries and sobbings cf a child came with an onnleas-; ant sound npon his ears. He went op stairs j wlili two or three long stride and entered . a i the nursery from which the cries came. '"What Is the matter, darling?" be' said, as be caught the weeping one in his arms. "What ails my little Maggie ?" "Oh, pa ! pa!" sobbed the child, cling ing to his neck, and leaning her . wet face close to his. '"jane," said Mr. Frazier, looking at the nurse and speaking with tome sternness of manner, "why is Maggie crying in this manner." Tbe girl was not excited bat pale. - - - f "She has "been naughty' was tbe an swer. "No, pa! I ain:t been naughty. I didn't want to stay here all alone.and she pinched atd slapped me so hard. Oh, pa !" And the child's wai! broke out again, and Ebe clang to bis neck, sobbing. ."Has she ever pinched and slapped yoa before ?" asked the father. "She does it every day," answered the child. "Why haven't you told me'" "She said she'd throw me out of the win dow if I told! Ob, dear! Don't let her do it, papa VJ "It's fal&e," exclaimed the nnrse passion ately. "Just took at my leg, papa." The child said this in a hushed whisper, with her tips slose to her father's ear. Mr Frazier at 'down, and baring the childs teg to the hip, saw that it was covered with blue and green spots; above the knee tbere were not les3 than "a dozen of thote dis tinguished marks. He examined the other leg, and found it ia the came condition. Mr. Frazier loved that child witb'a deep tenderness. She was his all to love. Her mother, between whom and himself there had never been any sympathy, died two years before, and since that time his pre cious darling the apple ol his eva--had been left to the tender mercies of hired nurses, over whose'eonduct it was impossi ble for bim to have any right of observation. He bad often feared that Maggie was neg lectedbut a suspicion of cruelty like this never came into his imagination as possi ble. . " Mr. Frazier was' profoundly disturbed; but even in his passion he was calm. "Jane," he said sternly, "I wish yon to leave the house immediately." Mr. F. rang the bell, and to the waiter, who answered it, said : ' See that Jane leaves the 'house at once I have diecharged her. Send her trunk wherever she may wish it taken. Here is the msney thatii due. I must not BC9 her again." As the waiter left the room, Mr, Frazier hugged his child to bis breast again, and kissed her with ao eagerness of manner that was unusual with bim. He was food but quiet in his caresses. Now the sleeping impulses of a strong heart were ail awaken ed alive. ,... In a smalt back chamber sat a pale.sweet faced, patient looking woman, reading a tetter which had just been left her by the postman. . "Thank God," abe aSd, as she finished reading it, and her soft browo eyes were lifted upward. "It looked very dark," she murmured, "but the morning has dawned again." A light, quick step was heard on the 6tairs and tbe doer wis pushed hastily open. "Charles, dear." The boy entered with excited counten ance. "I'm going to gi a place, mother," he cried to ber, the moment bis feet were in side the door. Tbe pate woman smiled, and held out ber hand to ber boy. He came quickly to her. "There is nor necessity for your getting a place now, Charles. We shall go back to England." "Oh, mother!" tbe boy's face was all aglow with sunbeams. "Here is a letter from a gentleman in New York, who says that he is directed by your nncle Wilton to pay your passage back to Eogland, if we will return. God is good, my son, Let ns be thankful." Charles now drew from bis pocket the note which Mr. Frazier had given him, and banded it to bis mother. "What is this ?" she asked. "The gentleman who promised to get me a place told me to give it to you." The woman broke tbe seat. Tbere were three bank bills of ten dollars each enclosed and this brief sentence written on a sheet of paper. . 'God sent your son to a true friend. Take courage. Let him come to me to morrow.' 'Who gave you this V she asked. 'A gentleman. But I don't' know who he was. He was a kind looking man, but he spoke rather harshly at first 'Did yon see what name was on the sign?' 4 never thought to look,' replied the boy. 'I will write the gentleman a note, thank ing him for his kindness, and yoa must take it to him in' the morning. God is good to as my son, and we must be obedient and thankful. Just a little before evening twilight felt, word came ap to the woman that a gentle man bad called and wished to see her. - Go. and see who it is, Charles,' bhe said to her son. " ' , ' 'Oh, mother! it's the gentleman who sent yoa tbe note,' exclaimed Charles. He wants to see yoa.' - , 'Ask htm to come ap, my son, she said. A man's firm tread approached the door. - - New faces tad met in this memory ' of the past. . ' " . ' . 'Oh, Edward!' fell from her lips, in a quick surprised voice, for she was strongly agitated. He advanced, hot speaking until he had taken her hand. 'Florence, I never thought to see you thus,' he said in a calm, kind evenly en ough voice to perceive the deep emotion that lay beneath. He said it looking down into the dark, soft, brown eyes. 'But I think there is a providence ic our meeting,' he lidded. '-.".. They sat down and talked long together talked over the things gone by, and of the causes that separated them, while their hearts best only for each other of the weary years that bad passed for both of them since then of the actual present in their lives. '1 have a motherless child,' he said at last 'a tende. little thing that 1 love, and to-day I find her body purple with bruises from the cruel hand of a servant! Yoa have a noble boy who is fatherless ; let me be to him a father. Oh, Florence there has been a dark void in our lives. . A dark and impassable river has flowed between as for years. But we stand at last together, and il the old love fills your heart as it fills mine, there are golden days for ns yet, ia the fat are. And so it proved. The lady and her son did not go back to England, but passed to the merchant's stately residence, 6he be coming its mistress, and finding a home there, and the boy a truer father than the one he had in former years called by that name. Do good as you have opportunity.' Only a week before ihe lad's application to the merchant bad this injunction been nrged ia his hearing by an eloquent preacher, and the words coming to his thoughts ledhim to call back the boy after bis cold, almost unkind repulse. Many times he thought of the incident af terwards, and of the small event on which such life-long issues hung, almost trembling in view of what he might have lost had that slight opportunity for doing good been neg lected. Why ihe Frecdmcn will not Work. From (he Columbus (O.,) Ciisis. At a meeting of the planters of Marlboro' district, Sooth Carolina, the followicgmong other resolutions, was adopted: "Resolved, That we, the planters of the district, pledge ourselves not to contract with any freedman, unless he can produce a certificate of regular discharge from his former owner." Either tbe negro is free or he is not. If free, te requires no certificate of discharge from his former owner to enable him to contract for labor. Tbe Cincinnati Commeicial, from whose leading editorial of Monday we extract the above, is virtuously indignant at the treat ment of the negro, requiring bim to pro duce a certificate from bis former employer before he can be Lired. In this "practice the Southern planters but follow the lead of New England. In the cotton mills of Mass achusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and, we believe, of the other Eastern States, where Abolitionism had its growth, each female factory operative leaving withoat the consent of the mill owner, is debarred (rom ptocuring employment in other mills. The production of a certificate that she left with the consent of her former master is always required, and a failure to produce it. is a failure to get employment. No matter how badly she was used no matter how deeply she had been insulted, tbe certificate of her master alone can procure ber employment, although without it she must starve. The mill owners all require this ; they entered into a combina'ion of this kind many years since, and yet the Commercial, whose yision is bounded alone by the negro, loudly pro teats against a similar combination, when it is really necessary to make them work, but has not one word to say in condemnation cf a practice when against its own country womej, which is not unfrequently used by her lordly master for the vilest of purposes. Is the New England factory girl iree or en slaved? A Warning to Yopnq Men. Tbe Jackson (Mich.) Citizen tells a good story of a young man in that city who had a daughter "pass ing fair." Tbe young man was assiduous in his attentions, aud was a constant visitor. This notice awoke in the young ladyV heart tbe tonder passion, and in her dreams she imagined that she should become the wife of her Adonis. Matters kept on in the same old way. Tbe young man coctinced bis marked attentions, and pecple began to whisper among themselves, "A match, sure!" while kaowiog ones, with a solemn t03S of the head, would remark, "What did 1 tell yoa?" The young man went oat to his. supposed charmer's house the other evening, for the purpose of taking tea. Dur ing the meal the mother of the girl asked, "When are yoa and to be married?" The young man leaned back in the chair and cooly remarked that be bad no idea of marrying anybody, and that be and the daughter were only friends. He said he supposed she understood it so all the timo. The young lady said not a word, but rose ap and sei2ed the teapot, which was filled with hot tea, took off the liJ.'and threw its boil ing contents into bis face, scalding him se verely and leaving an ugly mark. She then furiously ordered hin out of her Bight. "H--1 hath no fary like a woman scorned," is an old saying, and this young man can attest its trath. To remove stains from the character. Get rich. A Story of Real Life. 'What do yoa mean by such carelessness?" exclaimed John Do'ring to his son Williamt a tad of twelve jears. "Take that !" be said, striking him a heavy blow on the side of the head ; 'and that, and that !' repeating the blows as he spoke, the last of which knock ed the boy over a plough that was standing by his side. "Get up now and go into the bouse" continued the father, "and see if you can't keep out of mischief for awhile and stop that crying, or I ' II give you some thing to cry for." The boy started for tbe house, struggling to snrpress his sobs as be went. ''It is astonishing," said Doring, address ing a sneighbor named Hanford, who was near by in a barn, and of course bad seen and heard all that had passbd, "how troub lesome boys are. - Just see these oata, now, that I've got to pick up, for that boy's care lessness;" and be pointed to a measure of oats which had accidentally overturned. "Aod it was for that trifle that you assault ed your child, and knocked him down !' re plied Mr. Hanford, in a sorrowful tone. Doring looked from tbe oats in surprise, and repeated: "Assaulted my child and knocked him down ! Why, what ,do you mean, neighbor Hanford ?" "Just what I say. Did you not knock tbe child over the plough ?" 'Why well no. He kind a stumbled and fell over it,' doggedly replied Doring. 'Do yoa go" againtt parential authority? i Havu't I a right to panish my own child? 'Certainly yoa have,' replied Mr. Hanford, 'in a proper manner, and in a proper spirit, but not otherwise. Do you think a father has a right to revenge himself upon his child ?' ' 'Of course not; bat who's talking about revenge?' 'Well, my friend Doring, let me ak you another question: For what reason should a child be punished?' 'Why, to make it better, and to do it good,' quickly answered Doring. 'For any other ?' inquired Hanford 'Weir, no, not that I can think of now,' answered Doring, thoughtfully. 'And now, my friend,' kindly continued Hanford, 'do yon suppose your treatmet to your son a few moments ago did bim any good, or bas.increased bis respect and affec tion towards yon? Tbe boy, I venture to say, is utterly oncon'ecioas of having done any wroDg, and yet yoa have suddenly as saulted him with anger and violence, and gave him a teating that no penitentiary convict can be submitted to without having the outrage inquired into by a legislative committee. But let me tell you alittle story. You know my eon Charlei?' 'The one that is preaching in Charles town?' Yes; and yon have probably noticed that he is lame ?' 'I have noticed it,' said Doring, 'and asked him how it happened, aud he told'rne he got hurt when a boy.' 'Yes,' replied Mr. Hanford, with emotion, 'the dear boy never could be made to say that it was by his father's brutality. But listen,' he continued, as he saw that Doring was about to speak. 'When Charles was about tbe age of your son William, he was one of the moit active and intelligent boy I bad ever seen. I was fond of him, and especially of his physical beautr and progress. But unfortunately I was cursed with an irritable and violent temper, and was in the habit of punishing my children under the influence of passion and vengsacce, instead of from the dictates reason, doty and enlightened aflection. 'One day Charles offended me by some boyish and trifling misdemeanor, and I treated him almost exactly as yon treated your eon a few minutes ago. I struck him violently, and injured his left side so badly that the result was, he was crippled for life,' said Mr Hanford, in tones of deepest sorrow and remorse. A period of oppressive silence followed, which was at last broken by Mr. Hanford say ins, 'When I found my boy did not rise from Ihe stones on which he had fallen, I seized him by the arm and rudely pulled him to his feet, and wa3 about to strike him again, when something I saw in his face his took, arrested my arm, and I asked him if he was hurt.' 'I am afraid that I am, pa,' h answered mildly clinging to my arm for support. 1 'Where ?' I asked in great alarm, for not withstanding my brutality, 1 fairly idolized the boy. Here,' he replied, laying hi hand opon his hip. 'In silence I took him in my arms and carried him to his bed, from which he never arose the came bright, active, glorious boy, that I had 60 cruelly struck down on that pile of stones. Bat after many months be came forth, a pale, saddened little fellow, hobbling on a crotch ! Here Mr. Hanford broke down and wept like a child, and the tears also rolled down Doring 's cheeks. When he resumed Mr. Hanford 6aid ; This is a humiliating narrative, neighbor Doring, and I would not have related it to yoa had I not supposed that yoa needed the lesson which it contains. It is impossible for me to give to yoa an adequate notion of the suffering that I have andergone on account of my bratal rashness to ray boy. But fortunately it has been overruled to my own good, and that of toy family also. Tbe remedy, though terrible, was complete, and no other child ol mine haa ever been pun ished by me except when I was in fall pos. session and exercise of my best faculties, and when my sense of duty has teen chas tened and softened by reason and affection. 'I devofed myself to poor Charley from the time be left his bed, and ve came to understand one another as 1 think but few fathers and sons do. Tbe poor boy never blamed me for blighting so much happiness for him, and 1 have sometimes tried to think that his life has been made happier, on the whole, than it would have been bad I not been taught my duty through his sacrifice. Still, neighbor Doring, 1 should be sorry to have yoa and . your son William to "pass through a similar ordeal.' '1 trust that we shall not,' emphatically and gravely responded Doring. '1 thank yoa for your story, friend Hanford, aud I shall try and pofit by it.' And he did profit by it, and we hope that parent who is capable of striking bis child in anger or petnlence, that reads this sketch from life, will profit by it. Hear cs for the Troth. Had aty one told us ten years since that the people of America would have submit ted to tbe insults, oppressions, usurpations and extravagances heaped upon them, and stood like fools to see their earnings mort gaged for generations yet to come, the world would hava called him mad and spat in his face. m But the shuttle of time carried the woof of corruption aud partisan extravagance through the warp of dishonest ambition till the land became spotted with blood and ruins, and the earth filled with the victims of meddlesome fanaticism. Oor entire na tional debt five years since would not pay tbe interest, for three months, on what we now owe ! Two-tbirds the entire wealth of the conn try is to-day exempt from taxation, and the republicanism which was to have so many blessings in its train, has singled out tbe wealthy to be supported by the poor. The holder of Government bonds sits in his easy chair, his slippered feet on silver plated fender a choice cigar in his lips the finest liquors on his sMebeard the richest dress on his person, bis pocket ple thoric with interest-bearing bonds. Every three mia'tu he goai to a bank' and draws his interest. His notes are against the poor not the rich. The tax-gatherer passes bim by with a smile, to return and empty his titbes into the rich man's pocket. By a wicked, ur. luwful, ur.coiiitiUtional act cf a Republican Congress, sanctioned by a weak, truckling President, the rich man is protected in idle, necs, the poor man made bis slave. Tbe bondholder does not have one cent of taxes to pay on money so invested. He holds his millions, and the day laborer, the widow, tbe mechanic, the farmer, consumer pays him high interest. The bondholder pays no taxes. Tbe bondholder builds no churches. The bondholder builds no school-houses. The bondholder builds no roads.l The bondholder does not directly or indi rectly support tbe Government which thus favors him. The bondholder does not help pay for boarding the thief who tried to steal from him, or the villain who tried to take his life. The bondholder does nothing to build cp a country, but like a great sponge, absorbs the earnir gs ol his non-bondholding neigh bors all over the country. Think of these things, brother working men. Think of these matters, young men of America. The Republican party by traud, deceit and wickedness came into power. It toyed your liberties awfcy. It added to your taxes. It ran the country in debt. It exonera'ed tbe rich from taxation. It baa left a legacy of debt which will last 6ix hundred and fifty years at the rate now going on. Republicanism plunged the country io war, and new it calls upon the soldiers who havs saved the country to pay its debts to save it from thieves as they did from men ia rebellion ! The men who fought do cot hold bonds. The bondholders are the loyal sharks who patted the joking President on the back and filled their pockets, the. while laughing at his stories. Soldiers who went to war had bounties. These bounties were raised by taxes While soldiers fought, Congress raised mon ey for them by running the country in debt. The men return from the war to find the ones who hired them to go exempt from taxation, and entire debt of the country thrown upon the shoulders of those who suffered the most. And this is Republican equality. Poor men laboring men of America! It is for you to say whether you alone shall pay the war debt, and support in idleness those who fattened on your sons, fathers, and who live on your labor. It is for you to say whether the rich shall help payjhe debt lowering over us, or whether yoa will leave a burden of taxation on your posteri ty forever. La Croste Democrat. Hk who indulges his senee in any ex cesses renders 'himself obnoxions to his own reason, and to gratify tbe brute in bim displeases tbe man, and sets his two natures at variance. School teachers sometimes receive very fanny excuses for absence of children from recitations. The following is about at crigiinal as any we ever taw: "Ceptathomdigintatars." ( Wonderful Story of the Yield; cf the Idaho JH i n d e . ui i u i a. . From a Private Letter o San Francisco. Obo Fino, October 3, 1865. DmR Sir : Being idle to-day, I thought it would not be amies to take up my pen io write a lew tines, io !ef oa know bow . things progress here. I expect yoa' have iioinearupt the recent rich discoveries in this camp. A party that were prospecting on ihe War Eagle Mountain, about one mile south of the Oro Fino, found one of tbe richest gold and silver ledges ever'found anywhere ; or, as they say, it ia richer than anything we read of in tbe history of mines. It is close to the Empire ledge ; it is suppos ed to cross it. The Empire beftngs to Col. Fous. The new discovery is named the Poor Man's it is from oue to three feet wide. The Steam Navigation Company have got in.o it, and have taken five tons of the ore to the Sinker mill and worked it there ; the five tons yielded over one ton of bullion. A man that stops in the house with me got 'four pounds of the rock and crushed it. He got eighteen ounce of dut after retorting. They get ,blocks of native silver as large as candle boxes, and hammer it out like a wagon tire, and leave , it ail shining with free gold. Three parties claim this discovery, and a battle i expected at any time the Navigation Company hold ihe ground at present, and have three, forts, or breastworks, thrown up where 'men lie on their arms, night and day,;io protect the working party. They pack off the ore on pack mules, besides which they have load ed seventeen ox-teams several limes. Owe of the other parties is backed by Uobison, of the New York Company ; they are throwing up works also and j re paring for the fight. The Navigation; men drove them off once, butthey are back on the ground again. They say Robison will lyr an injunction of three millions of dollars on them, then comes litigation. Tbere is another discovery on the .same mountain of a gold-bearing ledge four leet wiae; they have taken oat two nans decomposed quartz twelvo feet down, and wasnea out eighteen dollars to the pan .and there are streaks of gold ia the hard rock half an inch thick. Co'onel Fogus has ju?t put men on the Empire acd struck it rich as ttie t oor Alan's crones the Empire. This is no exaggerated statement it is all true I am foreman of the Navigation Company on the first north extension of the Oro Fino where I have sank two shafts, one huui'red leet apart, on the ledge, finding it rich frotd ute to ten feet wide. Soldiers vs. Contsabahos. A number o philanthropic ladies prepared for ihe ne groesatthe Campbell Hospital, in Wash-f mgton, v. u, on Christmas day, a sun.pn. ous entenainmect. consisting of all the del icacies of the season, which had the efl.ct of sickening heartily the wbole camp. aJ tney are not used tosach living. Like al savages, ttey eorged themselves. ,Whilei these lazy and worthless contrabands wei feasting, the white soldiers were nibbling at their hard tack and pork, no loyal fern. les thinking of them. If they had been-black- guards they would have been feasted lot their heart's content; but they were not black, but white, and of course did m( come within the province of the loyal phil anthropists. The 2I4ih Pennsylvania vol unteers, feeling mortified at ihe idea of great! preparations lor the negroes and the totally ignoring of tbero, erected a Christmas treej atd bun-' upon it two cards, bearing the fol lowing inscription : "Soldiers' Xbrislm J Dinner," and' "Dinner given to tbe 214tb I ennsylvauia o!un'eers bv the ladies r Washington." Nearto'these placards h am bits of musty tali pork and hard tack. It was raally a most capital take off, and it would have beeu well for the negro philan thropists of oor city to have paid the camp a visit. This lauding and godifving the ne gro only adds fuel to the flame that will one day break out with great fierceness. Con siitulional Union. A GOOD Storv was !n!,1 snmo vara ntrn nf! olJ Marks, who prided himself upon never! being mistaken in hip judgmeot of a per-onV character from his phiz. He was in the Western Market one day to get a goose for dinner. In looking about he eaw a lot before a young woman with I peculiar Sne open countenance. She's honest,' said Marks to himself, andl at once asked her if she had a young gooose J 'Yes,' said she, 'here'6as fine a one aj you will find in the market,' and she looked, up in his face with a perfect sincerity thai would have taken his heart, if be had not already trade up his mind as to her char-j acter. ' i ou are sure it's young V 'To be sura it is,' and Marks took i home. All efforts to eat it were fruitless, it wa?(! so tough ; and the next day Jie hastened down to the market, angry 'with himself and more so with the honest faced cirl whq had cheated him. ' 'Didn't you tell me that goose was young yesterday ?' heexclairaed. striding opto th girl wrathfully. 'To be sure I did.' You cheated me,' said Marks, it wai i touch old gander.' I 'Yoa doa't call me old, do you ? she asked. 'No, I should think not, be replied. 'No, 1 should think not, too. I am dciy twenty, and mother told me the goose wai:' hatched just six months after I was bora.' j Lawyers' mouths are tike turnpike gate never open except for 'pay " J
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers