`mi ld
_ , L J
BY D. A. It C. 11. BUEHLER
VOLUME XXIV.
NEW GOODS' STORE' NEW
• •
LADIES, THIS WAY I
Miss neelellan
WILL open on Monday next, Nov.
21, at the corner room in the
FRANKLIN HOUSE. ( McClellan's )
Centre Square. Gettysburg, a neat and
well selected assortment of
FANCY COOPS,
of every variety—comprising Bonnet
Silks. Satins, and Velvets, Ribbons, La
dies' Brest, Trimmings, Gloves, Hosiery,
Handkerchiefs. French worked Collars,
Cambric, Jaconet and Swiss Edgings, in
sertings and muslins, &c.. &c., and gener
ally every discription of Fancy Goods, to
which the attention of the Lathes and Gen
tlemen of town and country is invited.
Nov. 18, 1853—tf
NEW GOODS! NEW GOODS!
♦ BRAHAM ARNOLD has just re-
Ls- turned from the Cities of Baltimore,
Philadelphia and New York, with the
Largest, Cheapest, 4- flea( selected Stork of
Fall and Winter Dry Goods,
ever before offered to the citizens of
Adams county—such as Blue. Black, and
Brown French and German Cloths,
Black & Fancy Cassimeres, Satinet's,
Tweeds, Ky. Jeans, Satin & other Ves
sings. Alpacas, Mermoes, Cashmeres, De
lieges, M. De !aisle. friers, and a great
variety of Goods for Ladies' wear, too
numerous to mention. Also, a large and
beautiful assortment of long and square
Shawls, and Sack Flannels.
lgrCall and see for your selves, as he
is determined to under sell any Store in
the Town or County.
Om. 7, 1853—if
110! THIS IVAY!
is this Rg e of Signs and Wonders, the
subscriber would remark that he neith
er brags nor banters, hut defies the County
to produce a finer stock of
Hats, Caps, Boots and Shoes,
la.,' he is now ripening ; of every variety
and degeription, offal qualities and prices.
suitable for men, women and children.
111 W all, examine and judge for your
selves.
W. %V. PAXTON.
Gettysburg, Sept. 30. 1853—ti
OPENING OF FASHIONS.
KELLER • KURTZ
Ras opened his Tall Styles for
Gentlemen's
Ul, AT a. Vil IP ',,
Men's, Boys', Youths',Ladies',
Misses' St. Child's 3oots,
Shoes. Gaiters, Ties,
and Slippers.
Sept. 9. 1853.
NEW GOODS.
E subscriber has jug' opened a (real
supply of
Seasonable Goods,
comprising a general assortment of Staple
and Ailey Dry Goods, to which the
early and particular attention of 'persona
wanting cheap goods is again respectfully
invited.
B. MIDDLECOFF
April 22, 1853
NEW & SEASONABLE
DRY GOODS IND GROCERIES.
A B. KU RT"!, has just oPened an im
-11L• menus stock of all the new and de
sirehle styles of pRy GOODS. also
Queenswore and Groceries—which he in
vites his numerous customers to call and
see: all of which will he sold ott the
principle of ..Quick Sales and Small
Profits."
Oct. 14, 1863
CLOTHING-CLOTHING.
A' m ARNOLD has now on hand,
and is constantly making up, Over
costs, Dress Coats, Frock Coats, Panta
loons,Vests, and every articlein the Clothing
lino, which he will sell 30 per cent. cheap
er thark any CLOTHING STORE or
SLOP SHOP in the Town or County,
r 'Call and examine (or yourselves,
Or% '711853-0
EXHIBITION.
ADMITTANCE FREE.
MARCUS SAMSON'S Clothing em•
porium embraces the largest and
beat aseortrnent of Frock and Dress Coats
of every variety of color, quality anti
Style, which have ever been offered to the
public. Call and see, even if you do not wish
td buy. -
Oa 14, 18153.
DRESS GOODS
OP every style, Do, Bags, Do tinge Al
pace, Mous de I t aines, Alpaca, Silks,
Plaids, Sze., with trimmings to suit, for
sale tilitiap at MIL NE STOCK' S" '
dr,LOTHS,BIack Blue and Fanty Can.
`L.' — ebtetitee s Ciussineit'S, Overcooling,
1001047 ' Jeatie, coals, a new style`
Fret_ol,994. Satin, Silit; Velvet and Fan
.o y. V eitiop, are offered very cheep at
.....—.... It .8, , AIIiNESTOCK 41 SONS.
Sign of the Red Front.
Ls% 'sfIAWLS•
,11
, i ':'.' rLtilF...__ _ . . ,
irlii ivor;,amorittnint intLeatieties et
:30814tlePell'ilt iown le be had right at
litltlVll ,, 43:4ltitmerr .- . 1
ItofiNEVrii. Ribbons anti Plowerotcy
.tve eettortment of the different
fount) . ' '
• ''" ' ) 86HICIC'8.
[ From the New York Tribune
Old Trees.
BY MARY W. ALEXANDER
Ye lilt your arms
As solemnly to Heaven, ye reverend oaks !
A. a tall priest oho rising up invokes
With nutspring palms
The Deity. While round your ancient boughs
Gnarled, rough and hewn, sublimer livery flows.
Round. red and bright,
1 lie sun's last glance is on you, and your leaves
Glow like an emerald in the crown be weaves
For you to-night,
Out of the straggling rain, whose great drops lay
Crystal arid cold on your broad folds all day.
High priests ye are
In N more s temple : old primeval Time
Your consecration saw ; your creed sublime
Heard iron' star—
) our loyal office named, king of the woods,
Preachers ordained of Gud'e vast solitudes.
Altars have ye,
Thu bright birds come to your embracing boughs,
Singing all day and plighting tender vows—
Here the wild bee
H unmet li unceasingly his drowsy song,
And shining moots the interlude prolong.
The children sport
Under your boughs at noon ; and lovers talk
Long iii the moonlight there, and poets walk
Alone, to court
The timid i•tars. Here weary pilgrims meet
Thirsty and faint and scorched with mummer
heat.
Over the, wal I.
Feel! ne their dubious way, the old men climb,
Tor ling the ,tones, and .it in harvest lima
Under the tall
Old bees, till the young reapers come, and
(Mind
Your giant trunks, rest on the shaven ground.
And down the hill
The I.IIOW halm] farmer comes, whose trem
bling hand
In manhoo , l guatded you. whose stern com
mand
Upholds you ,till ;
While in the grove. great hearts of mighty oak
Lie bleeding, bruised, beneath the woodman's
■troke.
[ From the Star Spangled Banner.
THE WHEEL Or FORTUNE.
BY AIRS. E. I). RAYMOND
It wais,n,,eold, storniy day, in the month
of January, that a poor, pale-faced, thinly
clad buy entered the counting room of a
wealthy merchant aud hauled him a note.
The boy Shivered with the cold, while
his looks plainly told how impatiently he
waited for au answer. The merchant
glanced at the note, and then in an angry
tone sail to the boy :
"Von may tell your mother that she
must either pay the money or vacate the
house this week, fur I will wait no longer."
"My mother is sick', Mr. Bentley, and I
wish you would be kind enough to wait
cue Nrrecklanger. "
"I have waited long enough," said the
hard-hearted merchant, "and if she does
not pay the rent she will be compelled to
leave the house."
With tears in his eyes the little fellow
left the place, and regardless of the storm,
he hurried on toward a clothing establish
ment where he was employed as au er
rand boy, and just as he was about to en
ter th e shop a hand was laid upon his arm,
:iud as he turned round he recognized a
young mau whom he had seen sitting in
Mr. Bentley's counting-house.
Are you the Loy that just left Mr. Bent
ley's counting-room ?''
"I ant, sir. '
"What are you doing here ?"
"Mr. Martin pays me live dollars per
mom t h for doing chores about the shop."
"What kind of work does your mother
do r,
"My mother and sister make shirts for
a sixpence a piece. When mother is well
we all call min enough to purchase fuel
au.] provisions sufficient for our comfort. 9
"But how did you pay the rent before
your mother was takcu sick r"
"My father was a mason by trade, and
he done a job of work for Mr. Bentley,
and iu lieu of money he took a receipt for
six mouths' rent."
"Whero is your father now ?"
"Ile died last June, eigh!, days after we
linived in New York. lie had been in
this country eighteen mouths, and last
spring he sent home to London for mother
and us elnkireu—having the rooms wo now
occupy furnished fur our reception when
we arrived."
"Is tivo dollars nil your mother owes
Mr. Bentley ?"
"It is, sir."
"Ilere, my boy, take this money and go
to the counting room and pay your rent.
Tell Mr. Bentley it was loaned you by a
friend, without saying who I am or where
you have seen mo ; and if you are as good
a boy as I think you are, you shall know
MO bettor hereafter."
Before the boy had time to express his
Imartfelt gratitu4 the stranger was gono ;
and with a light heart he retraced his steps
to the countiug.rimm, and took a receipt
for the money. Then ho bounded away
towards home to relate his good fortune
to his mother and sister.
They all thanked God, and blessed the
stranger over and Over again before they
seated then elves at table to partake of
the scanty meal Lucy had prepared for
them. Scarcely hq they finished eating
when a loud rap was heard at the outer
door, and in a moment more the stranger
stood before diem.
"Mother, this' is the gentleman who
gave me the money to pay the rout," said
Henry, at the same time handing him a
chair.
"Thank you," said the strap or, "I have
no time to sit ; I merely cal ed to know
if your sister would hem half a dozen hand
kerchiefs for tile r"
"Most cortainly," said )4*, '%lTillttrd,
we will do every thing in our power to re=
ootnpeuse you for the kindness you have
shows' us, May I ask tha,nutie—and
whtireathall , we send the work fwhore4tis
dove • ,
"My name is of little exsasequenee, and
when the handkerchiefs are dOun I will call
here and et tlAmt. Good night, say
friond, I tope t
oliat
~ y onr health touch im
proved whorl l call askitt."
Every day for two weeks small basket
of provisloni was brought to the door, di
rected to Mts. 'Will*. When she Aunt=
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER '25, 1853.
tinned the boy that brought them, his only
answer was—"they're given you by a
friend."
Three weeks had passed, and their dream
of wonder was broken by the entrance of
the stranger. When Lucy handed him
the handkerchiefs, he gave her a dollar.
"We cannot take this money," said Mrs.
Willard, "you have been so kind to us."
"Take it, my good woman—it will pay ,
your week's rent ; and I have sonic shirts
that I would like you to wake if you are
able." I
On the following day he brought the i t
shirts, and from that time forth he became
a frequent visitor. Ile would often spend'
a whole evening giving I lenry and Lucy les
sons in ad thine tie and grammar, which they
had not previously had a chance to learn.
"My dear children," said Mrs. Willard,
one evening after the stranger left them,
"I am sorry that so much of your happi
ness depends upon the visits of one we do I
not know ; it is strange that wo cannot
learn his name—and I sometimes fear that
his intentions are not as honest as we have I
imagined."
' , lto not misjudge him, mother," said
Lucy, "for I am pleased with his company,
and I believe he is a ('hristian. "
"Mother is afraid he will run off with )
our little beauty," Said Henry, laughing.
''N', I do not belive Lucy would inten
tionally do anything wrong,, but Satan is!
iPometinies transfornird into an angel of
light ; 'therefore we should ever be on
our guard lest we arc deceived by shining
i colors. It is now nearly a year since our
Ifirst acquaintance with him, and yet his
'name and history is a perfect riddle."
l Another evening came and the young
man was again seated with the little fami- I
ly engaged in conversation, when the land-
lord entered the house to collect his runt.
When he received his money he inquired
if his son had . been there that evening.
I"Ile has not—l never saw your son, - to
my knowledge," said Mrs. Willard.
"A friend told Inc not five minutes since
he was in this house."
"I am lucre," said the young man, step
ping to the door, "but Mrs. Willard was
not aware that my name is Bentley."
Ile wished Lucy good night, saying he
would see her again soon.
"You will not see her again," said the
enraged father, "and Mrs. Willard can look
for :mother hi nse as soon as convenient."
The father and son left the place and
walked home in silence. When tlaiy were
seated in their own sitting room, the old
man, trembling with rage, demanded an
explanation of his son's conduct.
"Charles, 1 am told that you intend to
degrade yourself and family by marrying
I tkat, foreign pauper."
' "I do intend to marry tmey 'Willard,
with her consent," said Charles.
"You will not marry her unless you for
feit your claim on my property, fir my
house shall no longer afford a home for a
disobedient child."
"I think I am capable of being my own
Judl.,e--and while I may have my health
and hands to work, I will never marry a
heartless woman for a few paltry dollars."
If you persist in marrying that girl, you
will leave my house forever."
]le did leave the house that night. and
went to a friend, where ho engaged a coin-'
fortable tenement for Mrs. Willard, and as
everything else was settled to their satis
faction, Charles and Lucy were married,
1111,1 C harks obtained a situation in a whole
sale establishment where lie spent eighteen
months without ever having passed a word
with his father or any of the family.
One morning, a clerk informed him that
a gentleman in the counting room wished
to see him ; when he opened the door he
was surprised to see his father, bowed down
with grief and sorrow.
"Charles, you are my only son, and I
know of no ono more worthy of my confi
dence. 1 have come here to ask your ad
vice; my creditors have seised everything
I possess, even to the furniture in my
house, and I know not what to do or where
to go."
.• Bo composed, father, I will do all I eau
for your comfort and the restoration of
your property. Go home with ne, anti get
some dinner, and 1 will see what I can do
for you."
When they entered tho house, Lucy and
her mother cordially welcomed Mr. Bent
ley to their home, and Charles amused the
baby, while the women prepared dinner.—
Scarcely were they seated at the table,
when Henry walked into the room with a
letter in his hand.
"Good news, this morning, Charles !"
'.What is it, Iknry ?"
"Our old uncle Ford, the miser, has
died and left a hundred thousand pounds
in the Bank of England to he divided be
tween Lucy and myself."
: ,"Good uovis, indeed," said Lucy.
She thou related Mr. Bentley's anisfor
twos to her brother, and Ileury assured
him that they would do all in their power
towards the restoration of his property—
and five months later, Mr. Bentley willing
ly gave his daughter to hint whom he would
have turned into the street, three years
previously, because his mother was sick
and he could not pay him five dollars for
house rent. The wheel of fortune had
turned. Those that, were rich became
poor, while those that were poor became
rich.
, IRISH %Vit.—Some company in Ireland
disputing relative to the quickness of reply,
ascribed to tiro lowest orders of that coun
try, it was resolved to put the matter to the
teat in the person of a clown who was ap
proaching them. "Pat," 'said one of the
gentlemen, "tithe Devil was to come de
,termined to have one of us, which do you
think he would take 1" "Me, to be
sure." "Why so 1" , "Because he knows
• he cat, have your honor at any time." .
The Cleveland Herald athlreasee this to
obi bachelors : .1f our
,Malter thonght
Wrong for Atkin to l'Oe tangle when there
was not a woman out earth, how criminally ,
guilty era ti 4 bachelore,•with the workd
lull of pretty gi la. t','. s
A quaint oltli writer .deffinee egotism to
be; ..autferitti the private /to be too much
in the public ewe."
aFEARLEE3B-A* FREE."
AN Attn.tsvr Root:E.—lt is not gener
ally known that a gray a inner with half a
dozen aliases, has been, for a long time
past, committing a series of unparalleled
robberies in this City. What the Police
can have been about, is more than we can
divine ; and we deem it a duty to caution
our readers against him.
The history of this individual, as we
have gathered it from authentic sources,
is not without interest. Ms childhood
was passed in the country, and at an early
age, he became very expert in the use of
the scythe and the sickle. Little did they
think in his neighborhood—unsuspecting
souls I—as the beautiful youth, for he was
beautiful, went through the harvest fields,
cuttin g
"The beanielgrain at • breath,
Anil the dowers that grew between,"
that he would ever become the hoary headed
villain we now record him.,
lf, as you pass along, you catch a
glimpse of an old, gray-bearded man, hat
less, bald as an eagle, a scythe under one
nrw, winter and summer, and always in a
hurry, look at hint well, for he is the felloW.
Did ho lurk or loiterabout, he would be re
garded with more Suspicion, and might
perhaps '
ere this, have been detected and
arrested ; but lie never pauses. There he
is, threading the crowd and gliding along,
jostling no ons, recognizing no one, but
never uttering 'a word. Just looking iu
at saloons, theatres, churches and private
dwellings, you may see him, if you will,
only look hem, there, everywhere.
A queer character is he indeed, and
what a treasure he would be to a Lavater !
But his accomplishments are not all enu
merated ; for aside front his skill in toe
harvest field, be is something of a gilder
and painter. We have seeu silvering of
his, that can never tarnish • old houses
that ho sae touched up with a beautiful
gray, till they look like granite, and man
uscripts of his coloring, warranted not to
fade.
But with all this, ho is forever robbing
somebody, and an-adroit fellow he is, to
be sure ! A kidnapper, a resurreetienist,
a petty thief, there is no end to his depre
dations. A lady, up town, had a beauti
ful child, just turned of four. The moth
er was taking a siesta one day, and the
rascal stole the child, and substituted in
her stead, a laughing belle of Aweet sixteen,
whom doubtless, somebody 'else was sigh
ing for. Ile went into a beautiful garden
the other night, and painted the glossy,
green leaves all mintier of brilliant od
ors ; some the deepest criutson„some yel
low, and some a poverty stricken grey.
Without either provocation or notice,
he dismantled a favorite row-tree, plueked
every 'had,' and scattOitets lidtintner bean
ty over the ground.
Not long ago he picked the lock of a
red, heart-shaped casket, removed he real
lianionds, and substituted therefor,
of paltry paste ; and r.ubody knew when,
and nobody guesses how.
Ile dares to &serrate the habitations
of the dead. Recently-, as we are inform
ed, he entered 31Emout.t, generally known
as the Cemetery of the Soul, and carried
away its cherished treasures of the loved
and the past. Not content with this, he
effaced, by some proc.:tss known only to
himself, many of the iuseriptions traced
upon the tombs, by the lingers of affec
tion, and there they were, blank and
speechless marbles.
Why, only the other day, ho stole the
coloring from the clvek of Beauty till it
grew pale as ashes, and so dexterieusly was
it done that Beauty never deemed she
was rubbed at all.
A mariner returned yest;Tday from the
Islands of the Sea. Years ago, he left a
young and blushing bride. and he found
—what do you think he found ?—a cure
worn, weeping woman in her stead I And
so, dna fellow has gone en in his lawless
and unaccountable career. Again we say,
beware of him. Ilis real name is 'rms.
A City Asleep.
A (lay or two ago, we visited a city, a
populous city, whose houses will outlast
New York, for they shall endure "till
doomsday." Strange to,say, it isnot noted
on the hest maps ; stranizer to say, though
its population is daily increasing, no colo
ny ever issues from its borders.
The golden chime of Pacific's waves
has never charmed a single car there ; the
shout of the Pioneer in the further West,
has never lured them hence, to seek new
homes. Indeed •the city we speak of
stands alone, like a rock-bound isle in the
midst of a turbulent ocean—the busy
world whirls and roars around, but there
it remains unmoved.
We visited it, in broad day, but the
streets were empty ; not a familiar voice
to greet us; not a single footstep to make
music to the ear. It was indeed strange,
very strange; there shone the sun, with
the mild dud beautiful radiance of autumn,
and yet no sound of living thing. Marble
mansion: were en every hand, but mow of
the *oilcan tenantry, for it was a solemn
city, came forth to meet and welcome us.
Names were graved ou every portal, bait
they that owned them—where were they ?
It was a city of names and not of things;
of words and not of works.
At length there came a train—there
was an arrival. On it came, noiselessly,
slowly. Was it all a dream? By man
sion after mansion it passed, and stopped.
A tenant for another dwelling ; a home
for another wanderer; a rest for anotlier
weary. • •
tlo it sok:mist to us 'as we stood there,
and an, the shadows thickening over (tie
thought, we htirriedawaY front reen wood,
and were onetrinore mingled with tho. tide
of the liviug. 7 , •-•—N. T. ,
The mind is like a trunk.:-:4f well
packed, it holds almost everything 't if ill
packed, next to nothing So true is it t4►at
"order is Heaven's first law." _
It is useless to look hir ward to a future
state of prosperity. if-the protect be 'not ,
occupied towards laying a foondstion of
it. Many cling to-4k ; dietee!' 'hope, and ,
vied a progresoiro oertainlyi ,;\ ' -
From the N. Y. Murieal World /tr. Timm.
INCIDENT AT THE FIVE I'OINTS
HOUSE OF INDUSTRY
Rescue of a Mother and 'flnge Children
from Starvation and infamy.
Last week is attempted a faint sketch of
Mr. Pease's labors at the Five Points
House of industry. It was only a sketch.
To be able to appreciate Mr. Pease's toils
and sacrifices and self denying labors, one
must visit the locality :—one must wind
through thordniirty streets and alleys, and
see the wrecks of humanity that meet him
in every step ;—he must see children so
dirty and squalid that they scarcely resem
ble human beings, playing in filthy gut
ters and using language that would curdle
his blood to hear from childhood's lips
Ile should see men, "made in God's own
image," brutalized beyond his power to
imagine ; he should see women (girls of
nut more than twenty years) reeling about
the pavements in a state of beastly intoxi
cation, without a trace of feminity in their
vicious faces ;—ho should pass the rum
shops, where men and women are quarrel
ing and fighting, and swearing, while child
hood listens and learns!—he should pus
the second-handed clothes cellars, where
hard featured Jewish dealers swing out
faded refuse garments, (pawned by starv.
ing virtue for bread.) to sell to the needy.
hall•naked emigrant for his last penny ;
he should see decayed fruit and vegetables
which the most ravenous swine might
well root twice over before devouring, pur
chased as daily food by these poor crea
tures ; he should see genlleinen (?) thread
ing these streets, not to make all this mis
ery less, God knows, but to sever the last
thread of hope to which many a !erupted
one is despairingly clinging.
One must see all this, before ho can form
a just idea of the magnitude and impor
tance of the work Mr. Pease has single.
handed and nobly undertaken; remember.
tug that min of wealth and influence
have their own reasons for using that
wealth and influence (in oposition to
Mr. Pease) to perpetrate this modero
Sodom.
Ono should spend an hoilt.
l'ease's house, to see the constant drafts
upon his time and strength, in the shape
of calls and messages, and especially appli
canna for relief that his slender purse
alas is often not able to answer ;—lie
should see his unwearied patience and ac
tivity, admire the kind, sympathetic heart
.—unsflected by toil or the Irowns of tem
porizing theorists—ever warm, ever piti
ful, giving not only “the crumbs from
his table,"-but often his own meals to the
hungry—his own wardrobe to the naked ;
—he should see this and go away as/min
ed to have lived so long and done so little to
help the maimed, and sick, and, lame to
Bethesda's Pool.
I will relate an incident which occurred,
Some time since at the (louse of Industry,
alid which series as a fair sample of daily
occurrences-More.
One morning an aged latif of respecta
bfe ,appearance, called at the Mission
Honvo and enquired for Mr. Pease. She
was told that ho was engaged, and asked if
some one else would do as well. She said
respectfully, "No ; my business is with
him ; I wdl wait, if .you please, till he can
see 111. "
Mr. Pease immediately came in, when
the old lady commenced her story :
"I came, sir," said she, "in behalf of a
poor unfortunate woman and three chil
dren. She is living now"—and the tears
dropped over her wrinkled face—"in a
bad place in Willet street, in a basement.
There are rum shops all around it, and
many drunken people about the neighbor
hood. She has made out to pay the refit,
but has had no food for the poor little chil
dren, who have subsisted on what they
could manage to beg in the day time.—
The landlord promised when she hired
the basement, to put a lock on the door,
and make it comfortable, ao that "the
Croton" need nut run in ; but he got his
rent and then broke his promise, and they
have out seen him since."
"Is the woutsu respectable t" enquired
Mr. Pease.
"Yes—no—not exactly," said the poor
old lady, violently agitated. She was
well brought up. She has a good heart,
sir, but a bad head, and then trouble hats
discouraged tier. Poor Mary—yes sir, it
roust have been the trottble,—tor I know
her heart is good, sir. l”—tears choked
the old lad's utterance. Recovering
bensell, she continued :
"She had a kind husband once. lie
was the father of her two little girls : six
years ago he died, and—the poor thing—
oh ! sir, you don't know how dear she is
to air!" and burying her aged face in her
bands, she sobbed aloud.
Mr. l'ease's kind heart interpreted the
old lady's emotion, without the pain of au
explanation. In the weeping woman
before him he saw the mother of the lost
one.
Yes, she was "Mary's" mother. Pover
ty amid not chill her love : shame and the
world's semis had only 'tilled her heart
with a Clod-like pity.
After a brief pause she brushed away
her tears and went on :
“Y es, sir : Mary was a good child to me
core ;- she respected religion and religious
people, and used to love to go to church,
but lately, sir, Clod knows she has almost
broke my heart. Last spring I took her
limns, and the three dear children ; but she
would not listen to me, and lelt without
ielltng toe whore she was going. I bard
that there was a poor woittan living in a
basement in Wilk& street, with titian chile
dren, and my heart told lee that we my
pour lost 111ary, and there I found her.- 7
But oh, sir"—and elie Bobbed, as if her
heart were breaking—uktrch a plaec I M
Mary thnt I used to titedle in:these arms
to sleep. that lisped her little eveniutt pray.
er at may Ittute—.ity Mary, *y4 . .440410
terriblepteee !”
_ She was getting so agitated tlist
Vriebing tit tint the 'iuriehCbflier
titoughiso aokediter if shelterselt was7the
tneetbor ofany :church, She said yes, of
4be wtruet, tioeot•cool,
aid idle was it
,vidow, tool hail had .one
• child 'ltSeitfe Mary'—i=a anti. 'And her face
Oglitsd'up as she said t '
"Oh sir, he was such a line lad. He
did all he could to make me happy; hut
he thought, that if he went to California
lie could make money. and when he left
lie said. 'Cheer up,deat mother; come
back and give my money all to Nog, and
you shall never work any more.
"I can see him now, air, as ho stood
there, with his eye kindling. Poor lad !
poor lad ! He came back, but it was on•
lv to die. His last words, were. 'God
will care for you, mother—l know . it—
when I am gone to Heaven.'• Oh ! if I
could have seen my poor girl die as 'he
did, before she became so bad. Oh,
won't you take her here ?—toott't sou
try to make her good I—can't you make,
her good, sir t I can't give Mary up.—
Nobody cares for Mary now but me.—
Won't you try sir ?"
Mr Pease promised that lie would do
all he could, and sent a person out with
the old lady, to visit "Mary," and obtain
particulars ; he soon returned and corob•
orated all the old lady's statements. Mr.
Pease then took a friend and started to see
what could be done.
Willett street is a rickety.old wood•
eiMuilding filled to overflowing with the
very refuse of humanity. The basement
is lighted with two small windows half
under ground, and in this wretched hole
lived Mary and her children. As Mr.
Pease descended the steps into the room,
lie heard suttee one say, "Here he comes,
grandmother ! he's come—he's come !"
The door was opened. On a pile of
rags in' the corner lay Maty, "my Mary,"
as the old lady tearfully relied her.
God of Mercy ! what a %Teel, IA beau.
tilul womanhood ! Her large blue eyes
glared with maniac wildness, under the
influence of intoxication; Long waves of
auburn hair fell, in tangled masses, over
a form wasted, yet beautiful in its grace.
ful outlines.
Poor, lust Mary
"Sucfl a place !" se her mother had,
weeping, said. Not a table; or (their, or
bedstead, or article of furniture , in it. of
any description. On the mantle-piece
stood a beer bottle with a half burnt OUP
die in its nose. A few broken, dirty dish
es stood e iron the shell, and a quantity of
filthy rags lay scattered round the . floor.
The grandmother was holding by the
hand a sweet child of eight years, with
large, bright eyes, and auburn hair (like
poor Mary's) Palling about her peek.—
An older girl of twelve, with a street, Ma
donna face (that seemed to light up even
that wretched place with a beam of Heat,.
en) stood near, bearing in her arms a babe
of sixteen months, (which was Dot so
large as one of eight mouth should have
been) whose little hands looked like
birds' claws, and whose little babes seem.
ed almost piercing the skin.
The old lady went up to her daughter,
saying. "Mary, dear, this is the gentle
man who is willing to take you to his
house, if you will try to be good." -
"Get outol the room you old hypocrit."
snarled iLe the intoxicated woman, "or
111 —(and she clutched a hatchet be
side her)---111 show you! You are the
worst old woman I ever anew, except the
one you brought in here the other day,
and she is a devil out-right. Talk to me
'about being good l—ha—ha"—and she
laughed an idiot laugh.
-.Mother," said the eldest child, sweet
ly laying her little hand upon her arm.—
"dear mother, don't, please--don't hurt
grandmother. She is good and kind to
us ; she only wants to get you out of
this had place, where you will be treated
kindly."
"Yea—dear mother," chimed In the
younger sister, bending her little curly
head over tier, "mother, you said once
roe would go. Doe'rkeep us here any
longer, mother. We are cold and hun
gry. Please get up and take us away,;
we are afraid to stay here, mother,. dear."
"Yes, Mary," sent the old lady, hand
ing her down a laded, ragged gown, hire
is your dress ; put it on, won't your
Mary raised herself on the pile of rags
on which she was lying, and pushing the
eldest girl across the room, screamed out,
"Gel away, you impudent little thing!
yon are just like your old grandmother.—
tell you all," said she, raising herself
on one elbow, and tossing back her auburn
hair from her broad white forehead,—"l
tell you all. I never will go from here,
never ! I love ibis place. $o many Sim
people come here, and we have such
good times. There is a gentleman who
takes care of me brought me some
candles last night, and hr= says that I
shan't want bir anything if I will get rid
of these troublesome eliddrenmy hus
band's ebilt:ren." Anti she hid tier face
in her hands and Iscglied convulsively.
"You may have them," aloe continued,
"just as soon as you like—baby and all;
but I never will go from this place. I
love it. A great ninny tine people come
here n• see me."
The poor old lady wrung her Em's and
wept, while the children clung round.
their grandmother. with half averted laces,
trending'and intent.
Mr. Nave paid to her, "Mary, you
may either {to with mo or I'll send for a
officer and have you carried to the smtio
house. Whials v ill you do 2"
Mary cursed and raved, but finally put
on the dress the old lady handed her, and
consented to go with Mein. A carriage
was anon procured and Mary helped in
side : Mr. Pease lifting in the' baby , and
the two little girk. and Away they Started
for the Five Points, 'loose of Industry.
"Oh. mother !" exclaimed. die younger
of the girls. "how. very plentant it is to
ride in this nice carriage; and' to get away
front that dirty place; we shall been hap.
py now., mother I and. Voli dt Au(' Altt , baby.
too;, seo. he is laughing: he likes to ride,.
Yon will 111V0 sister Edith and batty, snit'
me, howv. won't yen, dear mother f' atm
you won't frighten , ni with the Amidst
/ I . II Y in° l : o t, 04 , alto. grandmother, will
you ?"'
Art:hint itt Mr. Peintete house, the (14-
light of the little Creatures was unhounded.'
They catight hold' of their mother's, faded
dress, Say tug, we tell you, iautla
er, that von Would hare a pleasant halite
•
here I—Only sea That time garden/1 ' you
I) r
TWO DOLLARS PER, eau!
INU,IBER
than% have a. garden in Willett street ,
mother r• •
Reeder would you know that meet's
after history ?
Another ...Mary" bath fibathed, the
viour's ,feet with her tears, and wiped
them with the heirs of her head, 4 —her•
name it no longer Written , Mary Magda;
lens. In the virtuous home - or her aged'
mother, she sits clothed in ,her right wiind.
•sand her children rise up and mill her
bleated." . Faun Fun. r
THE CZAR OF RUSSIA—AN INCI. '
DENT RI HIS HISTORY. ' ' '
A•London cor responden tt of the (Amin
nati Atlas desc ribes Nicholas of Russia as
a very extraordinary man; and relates a
thrilling incident In his history, as itastra. '
tivo of Me charititeW : '
"The incident occurred In 1827;'imou at.
ter his socessioa to power, and may he
fresh in, the memory of witty of rum
renders. These . who are a0q441024 viib
the history of the (*entry know that in all
times past, the bairons of Russia have rit
' led the eountry, not by legal power, but `
by force. Timer power extended even to
the Emperor : , and wli the Chief of the .
State became inconvenient to them, ho was
uticeremonimisly put out of the way.—
Hefei after Nicliolas came into power, it
hecanie apparent to the nobles that iey
had' a man. to deal with who was likely to,
'
thwart their plain, and give em trouble
diem
in the future. In feet they saw right,for,
Nicholas had determined to break up *hi
domineering pdwer and, forever pieces we., ,
to on its existence. A conspiracy watten* /
tared into by a certain numberAttleediing
~
nobles te -- take the life if the Emporor i l..
jqo (ugly their projt . wit, into operntiou,, they
' commenced tampering with.* srekt. and; t
succeeded ; in.bilYiel O'er, iii WIT •
uey aud prembisc.four regiments of Opt.,
con hundred mon each, vith;.ikeir eihnern,
The chief of the plot was the commasdhig
officer of these four regiments. A pssOl, i
review was to take place etruuxuain day ,
in the presence of the Emperor. T,beim,
four regiments were to be termed Into lA.
low squares, and when the Emperor passed •
between, to review theek-they were to 44 ;.
on him r and then give battle to the balance ; , . .
oftlo rogimeption review'', if - they se* lit U . ,.
attack them. A very aimpie plan of mur
der it was, without complication.
_, , i
At twelve o'efock the night, Wore t his . ,
review, a man deeply (Us:plod ail firer, ,
presented himself atthe (Ace of the grind
chamberlain of the imperial residence, and .1
demanded to see tho Emirpr., .He 7041 ,t
at once informed that the Earperorliiii l
tired for the night,and that he On*. not •',
be seen by anybody .
• The own tmdt .
the ~
chamberlain aside, and told him ibk‘ - tittl;,
must see the Emperor, itist:o'ensik ji,*141.., ~
ter of the greatest importance,, s:matook
even of life and death ; and aftermath est. ~
postulation, he gained an intarnew. , ; .,'she ..,
visitor was one of the nobles mimed In .t
the conspiracy, whose conscience was too ...
active, and who had determined to: lillk, -,,
the life of his sovereign. .11,eievealed the ; ,
entire plot to the Emperor,: giving., hlut, ,
such proofs as satisfied him of the. 410 1 14 ':
truth of his statements. The Vomit"
thanked him, promised to rennnn
in the future fur his devotiiiii, aid gave,,,
him directions how to ;timidsusPition of
having betrayed his fellowsionspluaira, , ,:i
"The Emperor then retired %pan AA
,„
rest. The next Morning he sent, fora few
of the' principal °Seers who were 4o de In
command at the review that day;'"aild who
he knew were fait. triendeethilt. Quietly'. ,
and without emotion,
he revelled to thee, -,-
astonished men, ,the 00 /0 1 0,04ed %lie*
which had boon ' concocted what; Innt,
and the terrible eeeleeno - 0 1 . 4 0 d : 111 ' '
tended to *reit. beo then pre them'
their ord9ri. Without any Shim of de-
sign, the four revolted regiments were to
be isolated and placed at ono. side of, 010 11
main body,. Ali, the eerier refilinicis !ern,
to IM,pro,vided WI& ball estridge p aad Om
infantry With one hundred cannon laided;
with ripe shot, were to be drawn up on
the side next, the doomed regiments.—
Everything, was arranged acisording to the; ';''
wishes of the Emperor, without any seri.,,,
cue suspicions on the part of all but a few ,
poisons in the ferret, that anything min. „
suet was going to take place. ,
"When the appointed hour fur the is.
view arrived, the Etuporor dressed in s*a
Imre, as a generel, of division, rode 9u to
the ground rapidly, followed at eenie Ilk.
mace by a brilliant suite. He' advanced
immediately, cud without seeming to make
it a particular object, towards the remote:. q
ry companies. Riding . up to the nobitt
ruse, who stood at, their head, and Who
was the principle conspirator!, he., ceoly
laid his hand upon his *boulder, quickly
primate," the muscle of his pistol to, his
face, and withont a word, blew , his .brains
out. Ile thou waved his hand toy chi 'offi
tiers in command of the infantry, eon,*
his spurts into his horse'e Jenks, ;whisk
I quickly W o unded to ono aide. and the whole
of the hundred cannon opened their dead.
ly volley ef,grape, ',het into the midst of
that devoted body pi, unresisting onen,— ,
'Flick tries (or mercy were, unheeded, mud
in a few settee& of•time, the whole of these
thirty-two hundred men lay stretched MA
on the, plain. The few who recovered
from their wounds were exiletriuto Salth ,
via ; and to this day the numbers of those
regiments have remained a blank in the -.
Itussian army. . .
"By this bold stroke, Nicholas at ono '
broke up the power of the barons;, and he
did more—he fastened himself io the at.
fet - eiroTis of ;his people. In s Institut like
that of Resale, such a stroke as that, by's
young man of twontyeiKht, was well ail.
eulated to give him it power - of the 'tides
I,..duruhle kind. Since that time the nobles e
baveihrunk from his will, whsledm vest
bokly or his subjuvtd have worshipped him,
Ilas word is the divine law; SW Wherever
he whits to, his devoted people will fellet,,'
wish st tipaniuiity and nu etitltunktint
which well not surpassed even, in faitlal,
dnYs.". ' . 4/ - ' ' ;
Curio owenirreurui..4i , Loilitivl*
~. ,
Wediivialey night 'Met, CO;
__Yea , •
iitis
lif
fqt,e.thieyearso. uriNie.'l. Ritiii,
years; Were united m dui'Wit.
Wk.