Carlisle herald. (Carlisle, Pa.) 1845-1881, January 31, 1855, Image 2
IN 0 potirti. From the London Examiner. TILE CHARGE AT BALAKLAVA. DS 41 , 1tED TENNYSON half a league. half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Into the valley of Death Bode the o hundred, For up eanit an order which Some one bad liiindereci. "Forward, the light Brigadol "Take the gunS6Mplati said Into the valley tdbeath 11 . • Bode the Mx hundred. "Forward the light brigade!" No man was there dismayed, r' Not though the soldier knew Some one had laundered: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. ' • Into the valley .4 Death node the six !tinnily& Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volleyed and thnndered; Stormed at with shot and shell, Wildly they rude and Iron, into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of liell lode the six hundred. Flashed all their sabres bare, Flashed all at once in air Sabring the gunners; there, Charging an army while All the world wondered Plunged in the battery With many a desperate stroke The Russian line they broke; Then they rode Murk, but Nut the six hundred: Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, While the horse and hero fell 'Those who had fought so well Came from the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When coin their glory fader 0 the wild charze tlicy =del All the world wondered. Honor the charge they made) Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred. Pled ille. From Chambers Edinburg Journal. AN OLD WOMANS REMINISCENCE. "Do you remember, dear Aunt Ruth," I st length said, "that you once proinised to tell me a story connected with that grand house and your own little cottage ? Suppose you tell it me on my birthday ; it, will be doubly pleasant to sit here and listen to % OU." The calm, happy e4ression of Aunt Ruth's face, which I had never before seen disturbed, suddenly changed to one of intense sorrow; ur rather, a quick thrill of pain seamed to tallow my few words. This, however was only momentary: in another minate the pla cid tenderness so natural to her face resum ed its sway, and I discovered no other sign of emotion as she answered. "You shall have your wish my rove :" and then added in a low voice ; "It is right that ithe should hear the promised history, and that I should tell it." The latter part of the speech the venerable lady rather mur mured to herself than addressed to me; then drawing her fine figure to its utmost height, and folding her thin white hands upon her lap, she commenced her narrative—which, however, I prefer putting into my own lan guage, believing Aunt Ruth's oral mod esty prevented her from doing justic to the heroine of the story. • "Walter is late this evening, Mildred, and vet I am almost certain that I saw him pass on the river an hour ago. I may be mista ken, but I wish you _would run dowO to the old summer house, and see if the boat is moored. We ought to have got Through a good portion of business to-night." The speaker, a fine old man of some sev enty winters, turned as he spoke towards a deep window, where a young and strikingly handsome woman sat resting her cheek up on her hand, and gazing with a look of ab straction upon the twilight shadows as they deepened over the broad river, flowing at the bottom of a long tiß'rate welkin front of the house. Her father's voice suddenly re• called her dreamy thoughts,. and raising has tily, she said: "Yes, dear father, I shall enjoy a stroll to night; and if-the truant has not yet urrived, I Can watch for him a little longer from the mmtner house. We do not know what May eve detailed Walter," she added, •tenderly raising the old man's' hand to her. lips ; he knows your 'love of punctuality, and I am certain he would not wilfully keep you in sus- pease." , Mildred Vernon was the only child of a widowed parent. A beauty and an heiress, she was as might be supposed; not without a goodly string of admirers ; of these her father's choice and her own affection fell up . on a relative of her own, whom her father had brought. up-to his own calling—that of an East India, merchant.. Accustomed from 59 boyhood tq regard his cousin with affection ate admiration, Walter Vernon deemed it an easy task, at Mr Vernon's affectionate sug gestion, to yield up a free heart to her keep ing: and he agreed gratefuly to the propo sals made to him by his uncle, which ended in his being at twenty-one the promised hus band of the beautiful Mildred, - and the ex pectant heir to her father's immense fortune. To Mildred, however, whose ignorance of Mr. Verhon's previous influence with her cousin led herabelieve that the declaration of his . was as earnest and independant of extran-• eous eircumstalAes as her own affection their engagement was very different, and for some time the happiness of her young- seemed without a cloud. ,Situated in the remote c6rner of the grounds which surrounded Mr. Vernon's mansion, IoW thatched cottage, cov• ered with monthly roses and honeysuckle up ,to lowly eaves, and surrounded by a galaxy of blossoins; This snug and roomy dwelling had for years beets the abode of Roger Lee, I .Mr. Vernon's gardener. Here, too, his only child Alice was born ; and here, some years after, the strong man and his young daugh ter wept together over the lifeless form of a beloved wile and mother; and the sympa i- thy which had alwa)s existed between Mr. Vernon and his faithful servant seemed more _firmlyetn en ted by th e_ me I anchnly_same ness_ of their relative positions. The little Alice, from her motherless childhood, had been au . object of interest to thl worthy merchant.— Born its the, autumn of the same year which made him a widowed father, Mr. Vernon looked upon her more in the light of a pret ty playfellow to his own beautiful child, than as the daughter of hiS servant : and this kindly feeling was displayed in the liberality with which he provided an education for Al. ice Lee, better suited to her loveliness and natural elegance of mind, than to her mere conventional -position. Half an hoar before the conversation be tween Mr. Vernon and his daughter, which we have already related, Alice Lee might have been seen gazing as anxiously on the broad river as the young heiress herself.— Pushing back the diamond paned casement until it rested upon a ledge of roses and grqen leaves, she bent over the low window sill till her golden curls touched the flowers which clustered round. Suddenly site star ted up as the gentle sound of oars met her ear; and raising a face glowing with love and hope, Alice passed quickly from her ; cottage parlor into the box-bordered walk whit.lad to the river. "Sweet Alice, am I not punctual?" ex claimed a clear melancholy voice, as a young man elegantly dressed in the fashionable costume of rthe day, bounded up the brad oaken .steps which led from the river, and stood beside the gardener's daughter. "Yes, dear Walter; very punctual ; and yet I thought you long, and have been waiting so anxiously for the sound of oars. But you look sad and anxious, Walter. What tins troubled you ?" The youneman's broi grew darker, and then flushed to a deep crimson, , as he gazed with passionate earnestness upon the swet upturned face which rested upon his Omni• der, and then exclaimed : "Dear one would you desire to hear the cause of my sorrow, if you knew that such knowledge must make you a partaker of it? Cate 'your love bear this test, my Alice?" "0 Walter l" murmered Alice reproachful. ly, as she hid her tearfur face on his bosom. "Dear, dear Walter, can you not trust my love?" . . "I do trust your love, my own sweet Alice, and this only n'dds to my self reproach be cause Alice" and the speaker bent his head lower over the drooping form which clung to Win so fondly--"it will soon be a sin for us to love each other at all; for uncomcious till too late of the nattne of my feelings towards you, I have promised to marry my cousin. Alice Lee raised her head, and gazing for a Moment into 1 er lover's face, as if to read there a contradict'on to the words he had spoken, sprang fro n the still circling arm which had supports her and as pale as the white'roses which cluttered round the arhor whore they had seated, sh&Appeared to walt in stupid . silencefor at: explanation. Another moment, and the rustle of a 111 dy's dress caused' dm bewildered girl to Juin her eyes from the stern look of sorroKWhich r)cralb. was so plainly portrayed in her companion's face, to encounter an expression equally fearful on theimuutiftil features of th i intru der: Like some - fair statue on whose linea ments the intensity of hopeless despair was 'traced by a master chisel, stood Mildred Ver non. Her large dark eyes were fixed upon the young pair before her with the expres- sion of agony which seeped to overpower their sorrow in sympathy With hers. The quick perception of Alice seemed at once to understand, antLgliding from the sent where she had crouched ii her sudden grief, she ook the passive hand which hung by Mil dred's side and rasing it to her lips, exclaim ed wildly: "Forgive him dearest lady; only forgive Walter—lie will love you. 0 I he doeS love Tou already, as you deserve. See he is weeping! He does not love me now ; that is past, dear lady ; and you will forgive him, and he his wife I" Pale and lifeleis the unhappy speaker stmli at the feet of her rival, who •appeared sud ,dealy recalled to her usual self possession. In a calm voice, she bade Walter carry the fainting Alice to an adjoining summer house; where she watched with intense solicitude for the first sign of recovery. Theft beck oning her cousin Walter toiler side, she placed' Alice Lee's hand in his, t and without trusting herself to look into his face, said slowly : "You must tell Alice, .Walter, that you are not going to marry your cousin; that you may love her without sin; and that to morrow I will tell her so myself. You may not like to see my father to night,; tomorrow I will prepare him for an interview. There; now see this poor girl to her home." Passing- rapidly on to the house, Mildred Vernon sought in the solitude of her own chamber, upon- her beaded itnees, that con solation which her crushed heart so sorely neeCed; and she arose ai length, strengthen _ed_ami. -confirmed i thei_gencreths five her noble impulsive „nature had at once suggested. The cup, indeed, contained a bitter draught; but she resolved to drain it to the very 'dregs, believing that in the enn it would prove a wholesome medicine, which in time might bring back some degree if peace to her troubled spirit. * * * * -* * "Your engagement with Walter at an end What on earth do you mean. child? I al ways gave you, credit for knowing your own mind a little better than MOM — Women. Give me your reason for this behavior, Mil dred." Mildred was silent for a moment, ns if struggling with some inward emotion, the signs of which were 'painfully visible on'her fine features, as, with a sadden .effort, she said firmly: "Even at the risk of losing what I prize so dearly, your good opinion, my dear father, I can assign no reason than the one already given—namely, that our marri age, if persisted in, wou.d‘ be a source of misery to both of us. Pray believe that this is not grounded upon mere caprice: deep searching into my own heart, and a clear knowledge of Walter's feelings, have alone ,led me to decide thus. Only let me ask this favor, dearest father, and the beautiful ,girl clasped the old man tenderly around his neck, and bent fondly over him—" that you will not alter your pecuniary arrangements with Walter in consequence of this change in my views. Let him be as much your heir as he would have been had he married your only daughter." "And what becomes of my daughter? If she is satisfied to be a portidnless beauty for her cousin's sake, might n i 9. her future hus. band reasonably regard tl 's preference of a once favored lover with something nearly akin to jealousy?" " Dear father, d (Imo pia me by speaking thus. In giving up Walter, I-give up all thought of marriage. My dear mother's for tune is an ample one for a spinster—is it not, sir? Nay, you almost promised not to visit the sin of my fickleness, as you term it, upon Walter; so make me happy now by ratifying that promise." Mildred's soft, clear voice faltered per ceptibly, in spite of her efforts to appear calm; and when Mr. Vernon raised his head, and looked up into her thee, he saw that she had been weeping c "Come, my' Mildred, no tears. We -will say no more'about your marrying, my sweet child; and as to this other matter, it shall be arranged nearly ns you would have it—only my Mildred must be mistress of. this 'old house; that cannot be Walter's -now." *! * * Mr. Vernon kept his word; and when, a Year after the events just related, his nephew followed him to the grave, Ike returned to find himself toaster of the princely fortune he believed to have forfeited by his inconstancy. Snme, months later Walter led his gentle t 9 a handsome home• in the city, where his happiness might have been complete but for the painful knowledge that his happiness was built upon the blighted hopes of' her to whom he owed all his prosperity. In accordance with her father's wish and, the provisions of his. Will, Mildred Vernon still kept up her establishment at Battersea, living a life of quiet usefulness and benevo lence until all traces of her sorrow seemed to have been chased away. Mildred had sedalonsly avoided meeting her cousin tiller the death of her father; and she had not seen Alice since the fatal scene which open ed her eyes to her lover's real feeling towards herself. The sudden news . of the entire failure of one of Walter's business specula. tions at length roused her more active efforts. Determined at any sacrifice, to secure the comforts of her beloved cousin, Mildred de cided upon mortgaging her estate to its full value, and thus, in some measure, relieving him from his embarrasments. This gener ous idea was no sooner conceived than exe cuted; and a second time in his life Walter found himself saved from comparative ruin by the woman he had so cruelly wronged. Years passedon; the mortgage upon the old mansion was at length closed, and it passed into the hands of a stranger, while its once wealthy Mistress retired' to the cottage of old Roger Lee, which with it large portion of garden;she had managed to retain, and here, with one faithful attendant, her days ,fleeted by as peacefully'as when she was sur rounded by the luxuries of fortune. Not until Alice sorrowed over the lifeless form of her husband did Mildred conquer her feelings sufficiently to visit her. Sh'e did then forgetand conquer them; and to it was her earnest sympathy and active diligence, that the widow of Walter Vernon, and her daughter Mildred, were indebted for a more comfortable maintenance than the embar rassed state of the merchant's affairs would allow. red-I ves --to—s e e—this-orpb an ed- name sake the wife of a - Tch ,ail 'worthy citizen, ,and to find her own rrird in the peace of a good con - science and the affection and rever• ence of We grandchildren of her early and only love— NValter Vernon. Such was Aunt Ruth's story of her own checkered life; for my readers will have long since guessed that she was the beautiful and generOus Mildred Vernon of my tale. It is a tale, however, that is not - u fiction. Ro mantic as is the love devotion of our heroine, and unnatural as is the facility with which the father yields to her wishes, there are many who will be ablej to strip the narrative of its .thin.„disguises, and detect in it an episode_of_real life. 3tiollhinrou. SOUP AT THE Ci RCUS.-A rather unique performance at, the Parisian Hippodrome is thus described: "The introductory piece was a sort of re, ceipe for making soup in the-most approved style. The first who entered the arena was a cook, with a hugh knife four feet long. Directly following him were four boys, dress ed in red tights and close•fitting shirts, with caps of green leaves, to represent as many radishes. There was no mistaking them for, any other vegetable, Behind therh rode four turnips. Then came carrots, pumpkins, squashes, and several ladies representing the different species of salads. Then came beets, melons, leeks and mushrooms—the whole being covered in the rear by several boys representing red peppers. It was as odd an exhibition as we have seen, and ren dered interesting by tire singularly close man ner in which nature was imitated by the dressing and xeneral making of the different vegetables. A child at one side, six years old, culled out as they passed, the name of each vegetable represented. "As soon as they were all in the ring, the cook commenced to mix them together, by riding in every direction. At four points in the circle stood four different vegetables of enormous size: one was a mammoth melon —another a big pumpkin—the third an im mense carrot—and the fourth a beet.' As the cook rode around, he stuck his long knife in each, and cutting a string which helif-them• up, they all expanded, and out jumped a monkey from each, dressed a la cook, and cut for home like good fellows on their hind legs. It was a comical scene, and delighted • the young folks amazingly." RETORT.—" If I were so 11111110(y as to have a stupid son, 1 would certainly, by all means make him a parson," said' an °dicer. A cler gyman Who was ia the company calmly re. plied, "You think differently from your father." " Recollect, sir," said a tarn 'keeper o a coach passenger who had ot ly a glass of rater, and not remembering the waiter— 'Recollect, sir,. if you lose your purse, you lido't pull it out here!" Tule. IMMACULATE CONCEPTION. 'This great question has been settled at Rome, and the world is consequently sail posed to be .much wiser now, in one august particular, than it was before. In the Grand Convocation at Rome, the number of "votes" was 576, including proxies, and about/120 bishops actually present. Of these, 640 pronounced by acclamation for the new„dog.: ma; 32 voices questioned the appropriate ness of such a discussion, just now; while only 4 votes protested both against the dog- ma and against the right of the Holy See to decide a question of that importance Without a regular council.—Commenting upon this affair, the New York Express says:----. " Votes"—vulgar votes—in these days, thus solve the most awful mysteries of di.; vinity,—solve it, too, as it seems to us, with the same sangfroid that we settle the com monest political questions of the day here, at home. Now, all this may be right arid Right Reverend. We do not cry it all down as something very like a blasphemous and most revolting presumption,—a presumption of man to sit in solemn judgment upon his Maker,—in order to determine whether— speaking after the manner of men—the Son of God was conceived humanly or otherwise. If the Bible is . all as dark as midnight on that point,—thp Fates help us if we are to get light only from the I'io Ninos, the Tim ons and thP' Fitzp4tricks of the -day,—that is all. TUE SAD RESULT OF IGNORANCE.—Tbe Detroit Advertiser relates an instance of an ox being killed and a sled broken to pieces by a railroad car, and all because the ox' could not understand French. The team, consisting of one English and one =French - . ox, drawing a heavy load of. wood, and,driven by a French driver, was crossing the track when the express train of cars made its ap: pearance. The driver, in great excitement, itnm.diately ordered his oxen to "chuck,", (the French for "haw.") The French ox understood him, and turning off the track saved himself from injury; but the English ox, having never studied the languages, pressed further on, and was instantly killed. This case'should be a warning to farmers to have their oxen properly educated. , HAD HIM THAT TIME.—The Boston (Mass.) Post, tells the following:—"Rev. Mr. Foster, of Salem, Mass., was a facetious' man, and usually ready at joke and repartee. He had a - parishioner, a carpenter by trade, 'pretty well stocked with ready wit, and withal, somewhat given to boasting': One day, while' at work for his minister, hewing a stick of timber, the carpenter was boasting in his usual style of the marvels that he could per form. The Pastor, to put an extinguisher upon him, said, "Governor, (his nickname,) dO you think you could make a devil?" "Make a devil!" responded the Governor, "why yes, oh yes!" (his broad-axe - moving a little more rapidly,) "here, put up your foot-- you want the least alteration of any man I ever saw!" It was rare that the minister came offifecond best in such encounters, but he did thiti' time. . ORIGIN OF THE AMkEICAN FLAG.-A few weeks since, a paragraph going the rounds, inquired when the present United States flag was adopted ; The Cincinnati Gazette re plies thus: The following is the original reso lution adopting the Stars and Stripes : In Congress, hind 'l6, 1777: Resolved, that the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes alternately red and white; that the Union be thirteen stars, white, in 'a blue field, representing a new constellation." . As new States were added to the Union, from time to time, new stripes were added to the flag, till the number had increased to fifteen or twenty. At length, about thirty years ago, the stripes were reduced by an aCt' of con gress to the original number of thirteen. 1,&-A Southerner gave a dinner party t\' a few friends, who happened to conve4 about SaulTio's power of head endurance, t4e• gentleman said kg owned a negro whom no one in the party could knock down or injure by striking on the head. A strong burly fellow, laughed at the idea, and as Sam, the colored fellow, was about entering with the candles, the gentleman stood behind the door, and as he entered, Sam's bead received a powerful sockdologer. The candles flick ered a little but Sambo passed quietly on merely exclaiming: "Gentlemen be care ful of de elbows, or de lights will be distin guished." Iltrnovkur Platco.—lt is is stated that A •Frenchman named M. Alaxander, has invent ed a contrivance for giving the piano a pro longed sound. For nutnylyear:q this has helen sought for in vain. It wns impossible to eh: . . tain a sustained note, like the human ... voice or the violin. The - inV'eution is said to hd vermgmple.