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y
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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
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'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