TRMS'OF ADVERTISING'. One Pigintre ono Insertion, $1 00 • For bah ulaienuent Insertion, "- For 510 , cantile Advertisements, Legal lipticee. Profelotial . dards without paper, Obituary Votiees and Communica • Mona rel:Akng to ntattm sof pri • vote Interests alone, 10 cents per 'line JOB PRINTIIiCi.—Oar Job printing Office is the nr,gest, , and inset complete astaddishment in the Dour'. y. Four good Presses, and a general variety of material suited for plain and Fancy work of every land, enables us to do Job Printing at the shortest notico, and on the most reasonable terms. Persons n want of Bills, Blanks, or anything in the Jobbing no, will find it to their Interest to give us a call. "41 v,ml clinforarottivu. U. S. GOVERNMENT ProsWont—ABRAHAM LINCOLN, Vico ProtiIdonT—IIANNICAL HAMAD, Docrorary of STa tO—.WALLI. &YADIC, tiovrotary of lutorloi—Jao. I'. DRUM, eurotary or Treasury—Wm. P. FERRENDEN, Mecrofary of War—EDWIN M. STANToN, Secretary or Navy—OrDEON WELLER, Peat Master Goneral—Moarnomtacv Ittara, 4.ttornoy Goaeral—EDWAßD DATER, STATE GOVERNMENT rlovernnY ANDREW . CURTIN, Seerelary of ,E 3 —ELT SLIFER, Surveyor 0 tiera AMER BARR, 4 editor General—lnkAr SI.EN K Ell, A t tornny (]moral-14.e. NI. Mc RED I oil Adjutant general—A L. Eno ELL , State Treasurer—llEN.Y 0. 3100110. ChiefJubtle of the ;;upreme Court-000. W. WOOD WARD. COUNTY OFFICERS!! President Judge—lion. James IT. graham. Associate Judges—Lion. Michael Cocklin, lien Q thigh Stuart. District Attorney—J. W. D. 0111010 n. Prothonotary—Samuel Sideman. Clerk : a id Recorder—Ephraim Common, Register—Ono W. North. Tligh Sheriff—J. Thompson Ilippey. County Treasurer—Henry S. Ritter. Coroner —David Smith. County Commissioners—Michael Kant, John M. boy, Mitchell McClellan, Superintendent of Poor House—Henry Snyder. Physician to Jall—Dr. W. W. Dale. Physician to Poor house—Dr. IV. IV. Dale. BOROUGH OFFICERS Ohief%urgess— And IT NV B. Ziegler. Alieistant. littross—itobert Alllsorn Town Coune Ward—.l. D. Ithinehoart, Joshua r Bkier, J. W. D. WI/Is/en, 01.1Irgft Wetzel, West Westi—lleo. 1., 3lurray,:lhos. Paatou,,A, Cath cart, Juo. U. Parker, .17,0. D. President, of Council, A. Cathcart, Clerk, J. 15. ugilhy. High Con ,, tlble Samuel Sipe. Ward ConstaLlo, Andrew Martin. Assessor--John ❑utshnll: Assistant Assessors . , Jain. M ell, lion. M==2=l Tax eallector—Alfrod Ithineheart. Ward Colloc Lora—East Ward, Chas. A. :imith. Went Ward, Tow. Corom,n, Street Commissioner, Worley D. Matthews, Ju %tie, of t Peace-1.1, Spender, David 6mii A brm. Dohult, limcomh, Lamp Lighturs—Chas.B.!tiontj o. Jamos Spanglor CHURCHES FI r t Presbytorian Ch uroh, Northwest an cle oft'ou tre 510131,. Ito, Conway P. 15 irig I'astur.--Serrucos every Sunday Morning at.,l l n'cloek, A. M., and 7 o'elor k P. M. !=oconil Proshytertau Church. corner of youth OVer l' , lllfrUt tit) ROV. JI , IIII 0 01i,, Pastor. itrviouN commence at 11 o'clock, A. Jt., anti 7 o'clock I'. :11. St. John's Church. I Pr.t, Episoepal northeast angle r.r Centre Square. (I (leer, (teeter.. Survives nt. 11. o'clock A. M., and 4 ; o'clock. M. I,utt,rao Church, Bedford, botween 31rtirl and Louth, Stn ROY. `Oh Fry, Pastor.. Se, lire,: at 11 o'rlock A. and .0, r'elo , k P. M. Oortnan Ito formed Church. Lontllc,r. ta.t.euit Ilan nvor awl Pitt ntn.,./x. lion. Narita .1 Pastor Sarvlcos at I t o'vlo,.k A 31., al/ ti ti ' Vlltt . l( P. 31. 'l , ,tllolllt Chnrrh (first c• 11..-4..) (~rtwr of !%Inln and Pitt Str,ots. 11,1,1114,m, , 11. Slivrlol:, SIOVICefi i NI., at,tl i o'elork 1' I. Iletim.l,t H. ehur,h lt,. S. I, Bowman, Pastor. Services in Emory E. (Mulch :II 1 o'clock A .11 . anti :4' P. M. i,ott Chaitid. South \\ e 4 rd'. and Chapol nov F flack, l'a,to at 11 a. In.. and 0' 1, In. t PAtrieti's Cat lodic i'h u ',h. Pomfret neer East st Rev I•wft"r Son , it•eS every tit her Sal I= ospo•rs at 3 1 . . :%1 Gartnztu Luther:. Chill'i•h. vOl . ll, 811,1 Ittidtord sttnttos. nett C. rritzt•, l'actor. r•er‘lce, nt 11 o'clock P. M. Alan e, in the above sro a OCOSSII ry thr propur aid ro.lut....ted to 11.11. if; us. DICKINSON COLLEGE - ITer'n,nlf.:T6li - i1,4;i1, -- 11. Ir, and Pr, cgs, or 11,,ral Wllll4lll C. Wilson, A. M.. Prolossor of Natural Sripii, mot 'il , ! • : 1L01 0 Lill, Roy. Wllliant I. 1100w1•11, A M., Professor of the Greek and tierinati I...togunges. SAtnuel 1). Hitltnau, A. M., Prat) sor of Matheutat- John K, Staym in, A.. 11., Professor of the Latin and French Languor4es. lion. James IL Ora ham, LL. D Professor of Law. Rev. Henry C. Chestou, A. B . Principal of the Grammar School. John Hood, Ameletant In the Grammer School BOARD OF SCHOOL DIRECTORS E. Caruman, President, James ilamilton, 11. Saxton, It. C.. Woodward, Henry .s.ownlinin, o.ll'. II Innerleb, eact'y , .1. W. Eby, Treasurer. John Sohar, Meet on the lot Dlonday each Month at 8 o'clock A. M., at Education Hall. CORPORATIONS CVALISLE DEPOSIT BANs..—Pre.ddent, R. M. 'lender eon, W. N. Beetann Cash J. I'. Hassler and C. 11.11,1111er Toilet,. W. M. Pithier. Clerk, Jun. Underwood Mes senger. Directors, It, M. Henderson, President, It. C. Woodward, Sidles Woodburn. Moses Brinker, John Zug, W. W. Dale, John D. Borges, Joseph J. Logan, J no. Stuart, jr. Piano NATI Mk!. BkNA.—Prusi,lollt, Snnntel Hepburn Ca•hler. Jos. C Toiler, Abner C. Brindle, Mes senger, Jesse Brown. Win. Kor, John Dunlap, Woods, John C. Duni tip, Isaac Brenneman, John S. Sterrett, Semi. Hepburn, Directors. CI:SIBERIAN! , RAII.IO , AI , CoMPANT.—Prosldelit, Frederick Watts: Secret or, and Treasurer, Edward M. Biddle: Super in London t, O. N. Lull. Passenger trains three Hums a day. Carlisle A econailo Eastward, loaves Carlisle 5 55 A. M., arriving at Cat , Hilo 5.20 I'. M. Through trains Eastward, 10.10 A, M. and 2.42, P. ➢I. Westward at 5.27, A. M., and 2.55 P. M. CARLISLE OAS AND WAlEll CoMPANY.—Prosident, Lem uel Todd; Tronsurer, A. L. Spon«lor; Superintonden, Goorio tP too : Directors, F. Watts, Win. 11. Doettant E. M. Biddle, Henry Saxton. It. C. Woodward, J. W. Patton, F. Uardnor and D. S, Croft. SOCIETIES Cumberland Star Lodgo No. 197, A. Y. meets at ?clarion Hall on the 2nd nod 4th Tuesdays of every month. - . . . St. John's Lodge No. 290 A. Y. M. Meets 3d Thurs. day of each mouth, at Marion Hall. Carlisle Lodge No. 91 I. 0 of 0. F. Meets Monday evening., at 1 rout's building. Lotort Lodge No. 63, 1. 0. of 0. T. Meets every Thursday evening liberal's Ball, 3d story. (1 FIRE COAI PAN IES. rho (Triton Fire Company was organized in 1789. House rn Louther, between Pitt and Hanover. 'rho Cumberland Fire Company was instituted Feb 18, 1809. House in flatiron', between Main and Porn mat. The flood Will Fire Company was instituted in March, 185 d. house In Pninfrot, near Hanover. The Empire Hook and Ladder Company was institu- Sod in 185 U. house in Pitt, sear Main. RATES OF POSTAGE Postage on all letters of ono half ounce weight or under, 3 cents pro paid. Postage on the II lIRALD within the County, free. Within the State 13 cents per annum. any part of the United States, 2 , 3 cents Postage on all tram Bleat papers, 2 pouts per ounce. Advertised letters to be charged with cent of advertising. MRS. R. A. SMITH'S Photographs, Ambrotypes, lvorytypes Beautiful Albums I Beautiful Frames! Albums far Ladles and (lentlemen, Albums ter Alissen, and for Children, Pocket Albums for Soldiers and Civilians! Choicest Alb l'reltiest Albums I Chestiest Alburtis! FOR CHRISTMAS GIFTS I Trash and New from Now York and Philadelphia Markets. • IF you want satisfactory Pictures and polite attention call at Mrs. R. A. Smith's Photo. graphic Gallery, South East Corner of Hanover Street and Market Square, opposite the Court House and Post 'Office, Carlisle, Pa. Mrs. R. A. Smith well known as Mrs. It. A. Reynolds, midge well known as a Diguerrean Artist, gives per sonal attention to Ladies and Gentlemen visiting her: anaery, andbavlng the best of Artists and polite at. tOtidants can rudely promise that in no other Gallery . can those who favor her with a call got 'pictures sups.' Mr to hers, not even in-New York or vidiadelphia, er meet.with more kind and Prbrept attention. ,Ambrotypes Inserted lee Rings, Lockets,Breast Pins, ke. Perfect espies 'of Ihiguarrotypes and Ambrotypee snide of deceased friends. Where Copies are defaced; Hie-like pictures may still be had, either'for frames or for cards. All negatives preserved one year And orders by mall or otherw isepromptly attended to. 'December 23i 1864—tf rl 'HE FORWARDING AND GRAIN: bnelness formerly cOndinted by Line, Glvler & 09„ ie now;eurrlud on by . July 20,,1864-tf DR WM:- H.AOOB, • I HOM.OEQPATHIC ' PHYSICIAN, ",__ Surgeon an4' Accouchow ()VFlCE, .at his residence' , Pitt street, 1101 9 .11 4 tbo Methodist Church. • • TonACCo, . nAurvorifs ADIOS, .4.ti infinite variety of aixtu4 eftut ekitii inatiuotte4Gioncis at; Ifsivondlek'ts Drtig putt Alloy OtOrq. A . 25 00 4 00 7 00 ----- Relieving Guard—March 4th, 1884 r• Came the relief. `• What sentry, ho I How passed the night through thy long waiting?" "Cold, cheerless, dark—as may befit The hours before the dawn is breaking. No sight, no sound?" No; nothing nave— no plover from the marshes calling; And Bi yon Aves'ern sky, about An hour ago, a Star woe falling." " A star? There's nothing strange in that." '• No, nothing: but, shove the thicket, Somehow it .crewed to mu that God SOI UV where had jni , t, relieved a picket." SOMEBODY'S LUGGAGE When that long "banquet scene" was at an end, and the ladies left the room, I found myself, by the retirement of old Lady Salteith, next my hearty straight forward manly friend Jack Fortescuc, with whom I had already exchanged a nod behind the old lady's back. I was very glad to see him. We talked about all sorts of things; and presently got up on the sulject which had been occupy ing me so much during dinner. I was rather anxious, I must own, to lead to it, having heard a rumor somewhere or oth er that toy Iriend Jack himself was smit ten with Miss Cr.tweour. 1 don't know when I had heard - it, or *here. ThOse things seem in some societies to circulate in the air. 11E,L NC To my surprise T found Forteseue very uncommunicative about this twitter, and ,still more, to my wonder, I observed a tendency in him rather favorable to this match. Ile even sought to defend Lord Sneyd against my attacks. "Oh, he's not such a bad fellow," he said, "when you come to know him. He's aflectcd, you know, and pretends to be wonderfully refined, and to be a petit maitre, and all that, but he has his good points. We fellows who are always shoot ing, or fishing, or riding over stone dykes, are apt to undervalue a man of quieter tastes, and more sedentary pursuits. Sneyd goes in, you know, for being a sort of artist. By-the-by—talking of artists —did you see that portrait of the duchess in the Academy this year--wasn't it good ?" I saw that my friend wanted to get a way from the subject, so of course I did not attempt to pursue it. I was not en lightened by any thing that occured in the drawing-room after dinner. Miss Crawcour and Fortescue hardly exchang ed a dozen words, and Lord Sneyd was in attendance upon the young haly through. out the evening. In the smoking-room afterward Lord Sneyd refused cigars, and smoked some infernal perfumed composi tion Out of a Hookah. Heaven -knows what it was. Opium, perhaps? Nothing wholesome I'll warrant. It was on the day succeeding that of my arrival at Creel that I sought the bil liard-room, the usual refuge of the un employed. I had remained at home that morning, baying some letters to write and other things to do in my cwn room. These finished, I had still half an hour or more on my bands before luncheon, so I thought I would wend my way to the billiard room. If I found any one to play with so much the better. If not, I would praotice difficult cannons for half an hour or so, and in that way get through the time. Two peuplo were in the room. A gen tleman and a lady. Jack Fortescue and Miss Crawcour. They were standing to gether at the further end of the 'table. Both had cues in-,their hands, and the balls, were-on the - board, but at' the mo ment of my entrance they mere certainly not playin - g. Miss Crawceur's back was to the light, but a glance showed me be yond wehadow of doubt that she had been crying—was crying oven.' when I entered the room. , . , What was I to do I , F,ortesoue was my friend. The room . was publio,to every body in the castle. If I retired;it would be'a marked net,showing that I felt I had interrupted sohae, sneee_whlobt did not re- - quire witnesses. JOHN °REASON, ' °reason, Currib: 010 ' "Are . you having 'd game, or only prao, tioing?" I said to Forteseue f therely to break tha;awkwar4 • rich, .its A game," he answerml,•m4, ing ilgreat effort, but appakiog thou in'hie proper' voice. "'Au cl it's my sti4Ao. VOL. 65. RHEEM & WEAKLEY, Editors & Proprietors sloittiaL COMFORT. Art thou n lout one waging, The bitter war of life, While Bore temptations ragitig More dreadful make the strife Ohl hapless, bopelees lone one, Turn, turn thine egos above, To one who'll not abandon, To one cf boundless love. There's one who watches o'er thee, While passing through the tire; Tie bora it all before thee, And sees thy heart's desire. There's Ono, the Lord of glory, Who knows thy feeble frame; However sad the story, Oh I "trust thou in his name. He'll give the strength, thou weak one, And take thee to his breast; 'He'll ho thine all, thou lone ono, He gives the weary rest ; And soon, life's struggles ending; Will take thee to his hr me; Then on his Jove depending, r not, whaler may come. `~i~s~~.~xll ~t`rs ~:~:i~lr~b A l '/i.rist nc Snry hy Dickens C 111 t 41tted Look," ho said to me, quickly, "is that cannon possible 7" and he made it almost as he spoke. Two or three more follow ed. Then a hazard. At last a bad shot, and it was time for Miss Crawcour. She came to her place at the table, and made a violent effort to collect her ' self. I did not look at her, but pretend ed to be absorbed in marking Fortescue's score. I heard her cue strike the ball in an uncertain way. There was no subse quent sound indicating the contact of her ball with one of the others. It was a miss. The moment she had made it she placed her cue against the wall, and say ing something indistinctly about not be ing able to play and about my finishing the game instead of her left the billiard rooM, closing the door after her. As soon as she was gone Fortescue came up to where I stood. "After what you've seen," he said "it's no use my attempting to make a secret of what has been going on between Miss Crawcour and myself." "My dear Fortescue, I have no wish to force myself on your confidence. What I have Been can be forevdr as if I had not seen it, if you wish it. You know 'that." "No, no, I don't wish it," he answer ed, quickly. "But come out side with me for half a minute. •We can't talk here." Out in the open air, the rooks cawing about the tree-tops as their nests waved to and fro in the wind, he spoke again, as we lay on the grass. "I dare say you have beard my name and Miss Crawcour's spoken of together? You have. I don't know what right any one has had to talk about either of us. However, that can't be helped. Ile paused, and did not seem able to go on. "I hate speaking of things of this sort," he continued, after a moment, and in an impatient tone ; "one's words sound like words in a valentine or a trashy novel. Well, it can't be helped. I love this girl, Mary Crawcour. I would do any thing for her." "And yet you could sped: yesterday about her marrying that, man Sneti•d.•' "Volt were nut then in my emilid nee. To the world 1 must seem to facer that marriage. l ace pledgail to do so." "fled red ! To whom ?" "To the duchess." ")ly dear Fortescue, how, inileaven's name, could you enter into so radii an en gagement?" "How? How could I do otherwise, you mean ? You know my position. I have two hundred a year and my pay. Can I marry that girl, accustomed to the life she is accustomed to, on- that ? Have I a right to fetter her with along engage ment, on the remote possibility of my be coming possessed of rifbperty between which and myself there are half a dozen lives? Have I a right to stand in the way of such a marriage as that with Sneyd? What could I say when the duchess put these questions to me ?" Po you believe that Miss ('raweour would be happy in such a marriage ?" I don't klmw," answered Forteseue, almost desperately. " I have seen such misery come from poverty in married " Depend on it," I answered, " it is not the worst evil by many, many de grees. "Forteseue," I continued, after a moment's pause, "does Miss Craweour love you ?" " I think so," he said, speaking in a low voice. " Then depend on it you are doing wrong. You are acting as you think rightly, and with a great and noble self denial. 13ut you are mistaken, cruelly, terribly mistaken, if you have pledged yourself to favor this match with Sneyd, and to give up your own hold on that young lady's love." "latu pledged," Forteseud answered. "To what?" " To do riothing that is maculated to hinder the marriage with Sneyd, and not to press my own suit by word or deed for a period of five years—by which time, of course, all chance will be over." And this was what you were telling Miss Crawcour jUst now ?" " Something of it. She foll Owed me to the billiard-room. She seems desper ate, reckless. She swears she will hot have him. I entreated her to leave me -you saw the rest." I said, after a moment's pause, " The conduct of the duchess surprises nie in this thing, I own. She has such good points, I know. She is kind-hearted, hospitable—" .- " Yes, she is all that," said Fortescue, interrupting me, " but she is touched by the world like every body else. Why, you don't know what. p the notions of these people are. The things that are neces saries iof life to them—real necessaries of life-L---require a fortune to provide them. To a woman like the duchess the exist ence which such means as mine imply seems what the work-house or absolute starvation . , ,appearc,:to you. When ,the duchess - pnts OM. eaSo =O.O _me,. I toll 01 - 0 iim t3iMeehless.!' , , ~ .. f Fortesone," I said, after a long .si t 36 ; ., ‘, l these things: being so, and this rash and most miserable, pledge..:being given, - what do yo 4 do More r' tv,-,-r ' "Igo to-morrow." , , 44 11 avu you told Mies Orawcoutthut.r) " No, I lAavg told 410 , one I ril,qap to CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY '27, 1865. tell no one. When the party goes out riding to-morrow morning I shall excuse myself, and—and leave this place, most likely forever. There is a row in India, I hear; perhaps I shall get rid of my life there. It's at any body's service." Again there was a pause. I know what that careless tone meant, and for a tine I could not speak. " Fortescue," I said at last, " I have one more thing to ask. This Sneyd spo ken yet?" " No," answered my friend, riding to lead the way to the house; " but he is certain to do so to-day—or to-morrow." That afternoon a party, of which For tescne 4.nd I formed two, went out cov er-shooting in the neighborhood. I nev er saw my friend shoot so ill. Indeed the poor fellow seemed entirely bewil dered, and unfit for any thing. I think he only joined the party to get, away from the house. Miss Craweour did not appear at din ner.• She was suffering from a headache, the duchess said, and preferred remain ing in her room. Lord Sneyd professed as much interest as would comport with his languid manner. I could see in Forteseue's face, carefully as he had drilled it, how much he suffered addi tionally at not spending this, his last evening, in Miss Crawcour's society. The next day came, and I was again' prevented, by certain literary labors to which I was obliged to devote myself, from ping out in the early part of the day. I spent the morning in my room, which was situated in one of tie round towers which flanked the entrance of the castle, one on WWII side. About half past eleven I heard the voices of sumo of the men who were stay ing in the castle. as they lounged about the door, gossiping and talking. Soon after I licalllthe clatter of liorz , es' poufs iu this di,tanye. soon the ,-ante sound accompanictl by the scattering of gravel. tool the mare and " Steady la n<c !" of the grooms. 1 I(.:,ked 4mt fr.on Lchiud 1i eur train=: I am ttlway , very ea,,ily from my work. The ri,iin g r a,.ty waS all a , rrnihle 1. Three or four intm— among them, ['or a wonkier. I,orkl 111 _had Ids. owitt_ lwriie, a mo-ly tailed whit(' brute, that eo,t, I dare 5a . 5,, a mint of inkdo , v, an:. that no limn worth two-lime e w"uild Let arrnSS. TI R • 11 ,1 1 - e-s :tit& Crawrour wert_ the ladies of the party. The duke came to the door to see them off. 110 was nut going with them, having all sorts of things, to arrange with that important lninister the gainekeep t :r. l'orteseue ?" sail 50111(3 ou(3. " Oh, he's not geitn , this morning." he duke answered. " Ile is writin let ters." Ile was helping Visa Crawcour into thesaddle as he spoke.. It may have _teen the exertion of mounting, or iL may Ind, but I could see that she blushed limply. I did not like the look of the animal on which Miss Crawcour was mounted. As far rs beauty went, certainly there was nothing to codmplain of. A hand somer inare I never eiw. But tlte move ments of the cars were too incessant and violent., and there was more white to the eye shown than I like to see in cornice tian with a riding-habit. The mare had been difficult to hold while Miss Craw coor was being lifted on, and now that the young lady was fairly on the brute's back it became exceedingly restive, al most unmanageable. " Are you afraid of her at all, Mary ?'' the duke asked, as he stood at the door; " she seems unusually frisky this morn- ES " No, not in the least. She's always like this at starting." This was Miss Crawcour's answer, but I thought she looked pale. Perhaps it was the reaction after that blush I had noticed. The duke spoke again. This time to the head-groom. " llns that mare been exercised this fuming, Roberts ?" The man hesitated just half a moment, and looked at the mare. " Yes, your grace," he said, touching tis hat. " You're sure, Mary," the duchess said, " that you're not afraid? Do lot them take her back and bring you an other mount." " Yes, yes, much better," added the duke. ",R,oberts, send that snare back, and saddle Robin Hood for Miss Oraw cour." " Beg your pardon, your grace, but the'horse is in physic : he's not been very well for a day or two." " Well, then, the brOwn mare, or Bull finch, or—n, " No, no, no, no !" Miss Crawcour called, from the saddle, " I like thin mare best of all. Let her go," she said to the groom who was holding the cursed, bride's head. And 'cif she cantered; the mare plunging and kiching. (I. Really," paid Stioyd, with his -foot i tho stirrup,' " Miss Crahroo.u'r ought : not to be :allAnd• to ride that IfereeiouS animal. —Can nObody_stop_herl," _.' " You ride aftet.ber, Snoyd," said the duke, smiling, "and :try 'if fyou t can't bring her back.", Sncid::was in 410:84adle by this , ,time;inid eautofed 90' 1 at' h.-regular roc ing-hin'so groom behind, him on a thorough-bred This was the last I saw of the caval cade. The duke retired immediately to the gun-room, and I went back to my writing-table, but I could not help feel ing a certain sense of uneasiness, the look of that mare not being at all to my liking, and the manner of the groom having left an impression on my mind that the animal had not really been out before that morning. All the events of that day are very fresh in my memory. The next to mine was a boudoir. There was a piano in it, and some one of the ladies of the party was playing on it. I don't know what she was playing, though I should recog nize the air now in a moment if I heard it. It was what is called a "piece," and and had a wonderful plaintive beauty about it. As the performer played it many times over, I suppose she' was learning it. I went on writing, and what I wrote seemed in a sort of way to be mixed up with this tune. Presently 1 heard the sound of wheels, and some light vehicle drove up to the door. 1 went again to the window. It was a dog-cart, driven by ono of the duke's grooms, and it drove up befbre the door. Some servants brought out a portmanteau, some gun cases, and other luggage, and placed them in the vehicle. Almost ;it the same moment my door opened, and Forteseue entered the room. 1 never saw any thing more dreadful the suppressed ag ony in his face. " Good-by, old fellow," he said, with a miserable ;2.-hastly smile. " I'm off, you see. Will you take charge of this note Ciir the duchess? I've only just time to catch the train." Stay," I said ; " where can I write t(i rotz London, to-morrow. Art er that Chatham. Good-liy again, dear old fel iw, !" lie Iva , : gono. Tn a minute more I saw t.be duke cane with him to :he door, and ;.„„fter slinking L tii warmly I,y the iiand and pressing Lim to return when ever e pyssildy could, they parted, and the (1,!2:-cart disappeared rapidly, behind that amde ol:•the r istle round which hadMizs Craweour pass so sh o rt a time Imf4re. !„dlow ! what a departure. What 511 .sole in the gay story of the life at ( 'reel. 1 went back to my desk. And still from the next room came that same plain tive air, and still it seemed to belong to what I wrote, and to he an inseparable part of the day and its events. Once mere I was disturbed, and by the clatter of hoofs. Lt was a single horse this time, and going evidently at a tremendous pace.. I looked out and saw young Balham, who had been one of the party of equestrians, dashing along the road at lull gallop. He, turned off in the direction of the stables, and I saw no more of him. I remained where I was, but with a dim IM.elioding that something had gone wrong, and by-and by a low open carriage, empty, was driv en out of the stable-yard at a great pace Lord Balham rode rapidly on in front of it, lmtli he and the carriage going back by the way he had come. I still kept where I was, and in a few moments the (ham of the house NV as open ed, and some of the servants came out. They looked oat in the direction ~by which the carriage had disappeared.— Ono or two ladies'-maids stood ou the steps, one of them the duchess's, and there was another who was crying, but quite quietly, the servants in such houses being drilled into the greatest undemon strativeness. I heard one of the men servants say to another, " Roberts is gone off to Inverkeed fur Dr. Maelntyre, and James has gone into Creel for Mr. Cameron. They'll both be here quickly." "Is his grace in the house ?" " No.— Ide's up at the plantations. But he's been sent for." The conversation among the men stop ped suddenly. The carriage, driving very slowly, had come in sight. It was follow ed by some horsemen. Presently 1 made out that two grooms behind were loading each a lady's horse; then I saw that the duchess was sitting in the carriage bend ingovor and supportingsomething—some body—lying at length on the cushions. A gentleman, one of those on horseback, detached himself from thegroup, and rode swiftly up to tho4loor. " Is Miss drAcour's maid here ?" ho asked. The girl came forward, sobbing. The duchess's woman, older, with more head, more nelf-controlled, and more useful now, came out too. Not a word more was spoken. The oar riage drow 'up'to tbe door; and'i saw at a glance 'that it was Misa, 7 Crawcour over whom the duchess was bending; that the 'poor girl's habit was all torn and dirty; And that a handkerchief,' deeply ; }3i was•laid over her .fhoo: ''There was no word spoken, •The' (hitless, in, tearsolesoended from the ear. , riage_and_ went lox; the house to ado that all was'ready, while the deptiernen of the party liftedthe poor maimed forni of Miss OrmvoeUTS,fi . 'oM the cushions": I:ruilieed that., Lord'... Buoy& did not ;rapist in' thiti; but havered:lent 'the `group. in-tibelPless TERMS:--$2,00 in Advance, or 82,50 within the year. way. Nobody Beemod to' want him, or to notice him. I remained still where I was. I knew I could be of no use, should only be in the way below. I could not help looking. I wish I had not. As they lifted Miss Crawoour from the carriage, the handker chief became displaced, and I saw— One whole side of her face seemed to have been crushed and beaten in. That beautiful face! It was covered again, in a moment, but I had seen it—and so had some one else. When Lord Snarl looked upon that mu tilated face he turned even paler than he had been before, and went into the house. The door closed over the sad group, with Mary Craweour's helpless figure car ried in the midst of it, the carriage drove away to the stables, and all was quiet "And he did it, think of that," said 13alham. "It was that disgusting white brute of his to whom this terrible mishap is owing." "What do you mean ?" I asked, as we were talking sometime afterward about what has been partly described above " Ilow did the thing happen? .You saw it all." " It is told in two words," said Balham. " You know that mare that poor Miss Craweour used to ride. Well, she was always an unsafe, ill-conditioned mare, in my opinion, but on this occasion she was particularly bad. All the time we were out she was fidgeting and starting at ev ery thing, and more than one of us want ed Miss Crawcour to let the groom put her saddle on one of the other horses, and let some man with a stronger hand ride the mare. However, it was no use, and so at last—l never saw a worse thing— the mare took fright at some barrow, or something by the side of the hedge, and bolted straight aoross the road at a bound. Miss Crawcour was thrown, but fell clean, luckily without becoming entangled with the stirrup, and might have escaped se rious mischief, when up comes that intol erable ass Sneyd, on his infernal ambling Astley's-looking beast, and rides clean over her,- the brute of a horse—ash-1 can't bear to thitdrof it—sending one of his hoofs straight into her face as he pars ed. And her arm is broken too, is it nut ?" " YCH, I believe sn. That may, how ever, have happened when bile fell; but the other thing—that fearful mutilation of the poor lady's face—was done by it kick from that horse of Suoyd's and by nothing else in the world. I saw it with my own oyes. THE REST OF` rms MANUSCRIPT ISE I= MS WRITING-DESK SOME years after these things had hap pened I stood on the suinnrirof one of those mighty mountains which form a boundary line, such as few countries can boast of, between Switzerland and Italy. It was evening, and I was gazing with all my eyes into that; strange receptacle for the dead which the monks of St. Ber nard have placed at the door of their con vent, and where the bodies of those un. fortunates who have perished in the snow aro preserved...l - ' 7 ' l llloy are embalmed by the highly rarified air of that height, and do not decay. The Egyptian mummies are not more perfectly kept. I was so absorbed in these strange fig• ures that I scarcely noticed there was any one standing beside MC, Until I heard n•y own name pronounced by a voice familiar to me. I turned and found myself face to face with Jack Fortescue. " Well," he said, almost before we had exchanged greetings, "this is the most extraordinary thing, the • most marvelous combination of coincidences that ever took places ince the creation of the world ! Who do you think is in there ?" pointing to the convent. • " Who ?" I asked. "In Heaven's name, who ?" "In the strangers' parlor there, you will find, at this moment, your old ac quaintance Lord Sneyd—and, what is more, a new acquaintance, if you choose to Make it, "in the shape of that nobleL man's illustrious consort." "[That, the Irish-Italian singer, who, as I Saw by Gulignani, had managed to become Lady Sneyd ?" " The same." " And your wife—where is she ?" " Mary is with me. Is not extraord inary, incredible almost, that we should all be under the same roof again ? Do you remember the last time ?" " Remember it ? Shall I over forget Mil " Of courso," Fortns'eue wont on, " I can't let her come in contact with those people, so she keeps her room, or ratber i her cell. It is awfully cold, but anything is bettor than snob.' a meeting." • --" But you will let Me see her ?". •" You? Why,' of .3(')urBo," Fortospuo answered,,. Itow, can you ask ._"l__will risk,somethingv - elop . „ then,' I t'f! I' will ask you to tell inn some of' the,partioulars of what took place itibik.T: left Ctitel'and went, My letters ‘ from England and the papers :told lilt); to my great delight, ,of yonr with Miss OrttwooUT, •and also of Lord Sne3rd's • wonderful Intitch. 'But I wiSat to'knob; more than • these'lntre facti." " Tdo a ie 'wily pot 111U011: to tell," said Forteseue. " W hen I got your letter tel ling me of that terrible., disaste,r at Creel I wag at Chatham, and was, in fact, just negotiating for an exchange into a regi ment that was going abroad at once. Your letter altered' 311 my plans. Do what I would the thought of that poor maimed figure haunted me: the love which I had resisted when she was in the full pride and glory of her beauty became, now that pity was mixed up with it, now that this fearful trouble had come upon her, a thing that I could no longer hold out against. I felt that I must go back to Creel. And I went. "When I got there I found that infer nal brute and scoundrel, Sneyd, had left the place. Very soon after the accident —you know that he had never actually spoken to the duke about Mary, or said any thing definite to her—well, very soon after the acident he discovered that it was actually necess l ary that he should pay visit to some estates of his iri s lreland. He left the castle to come ba& there no more. lle went first of all to Ireland, and then was absent on the Continent far a considerable length of time. There was an end of him. At Naples ho be came entangled in the snares of a reg,u lar designing adventuress, and out of those snares lie has never escaped. I wish him joy. "Well, I staid on and on at Creel. It was. a quiet, delightful time. After the accident every body left, but Greta—he and I, you know, were always great friends —the duke pressed me to stay that he might have somebody to shoot with, and I staid on and on. "At that time, too, I saw more of the duchess than I had ever done before, and one day we began talking about the ac cident and about Sneyd's behavior, and I ventured to say that I thought that if Mary had broken every bone in her skin she would still have had reason to con gratulate herself on being thereby deliv ered from a marriage with the wretched creature that he had proved himself to be. The duchess did not differ from me, and somehow from that day a strange kind of hope and happiness seemed to take pos session of te—a curious indefinite do light such as I bud never felt before. "At length a day cane when I was al lowed to see It, r. And when I went in to the room"—at this point Forteseue's voice faltered a little—"when I saw her poor arm bound up, and halt her sweet fit .0 covered with bandages, I knelt down by the side of the sofa, and, in short, I made a foul of myself. The duchess was present, but she was fairly beat, and— Will, very soon I was discussing ways and means with the duke. "There never was any thing like that man's kindness. Besides making Nary a very handsome present indeed, which he declared ho had always intended to do, he set himself to work to got Me such an appointment as should make it possi ble for we to marry. Between him and the duchess (whose interest is not swall) this has been effected, so I waited till I gut company—l am Captain Fortes cue now, if you please—and then sold my commission, and with my own small means, and my place in the Shot and Shell Depattment, we manage to get on in a very inexplicable but delightful way." "And the privations avhich were to make your wife so wretched ?" I asked, as I shook" him warmly by the band. "Looked touch worse at a distance than they do close," said my friend. "I do think, sincerely," he continued, "that an imprudent marriage ought to be made every now and then, if it is only to bring out the immense amount of real kindness ihat.there is in the world. lam perfect ly sure that if two married people, how ever poor they may be, will only put a good face upon it, and neither sink down into gloomy despair on the one hand, nor shut themselves up in a haughty reserve on the other-:-I am perfectly sere, 1 say, that there is so much real goodness in the world that they need never know that they are poorer than other people, or suf. for any of those humiliations, the dread of which Iris kept tunny true and loving hearts asunder. But come," said For. tescue, "I am getting poetical. Let us go inside., and see how Lord and Lady Sneyd are getting on. he'll take no no tice of either of us, yoU'll see.", Fortescue left we for a time to go and see after his wife, and I went up into the. strangers' room. There was a good Jorge, company assembled, waiting for the• sup per hour, English tourists, ; Gorman, stu dents, and some French (dicers—among them, sure enough, sitting nest to ti,vcry showy andover-dressed lady with jewelry over.her, , with, ti,,yery otrong soupcon paint:upon her countenance, with a !long purl brought over her left shoulder i --there was Lord Sneyd. • • • `4 'Changed man aireadY: • Feeble and 'effeminate ho, was still, but heliod ceased . to ~be the : insolent languid-.petitemaitro. and ommomb - he .was .whenl hod last seen ;him. was Ic4Cred ., in, tone, his whole iiiMiltipa eietMid•:tn`lie:iintirel,:tib siiib4, in attention on .bis; :off whom lie. never took his. oyes. T —t- "r-hear," --- said ,- Ferteseue to tno~-ate ho took his iny • side - sit the' supper table, "that he, is intenseli-jealons of her,d' •and' leads, in coniequeneo, the Most, iniSF: `trable life, imaginable. Loijk how, he watching, now that that Frei/4340E0r i 0 speaking 16 her. The mania only (AO r ing her some potatoes, but Sneyd looks as if he would he had courage enough—to put hie knife :into It was true. A more pitiable and-0011..- temptible sight \ I never witnessed- than this man's jealousy. It extended itself to the French officers opposite, to iho Young English undergraduate who sat next to the lady, end even to the good looking young monk who—a perfect man of the world, and a very agreeable fellow —took the head of the supper-table. I must say that Lady Sneyd's appeaiance was not calculated to quiet her lord and master's discomfort. A more liberal;usii of a pair of fine rolling black eyes I nfr or saw made. Not long after supper this worthy pair retired, not the slightest al tempt at recognition of either Fortesetfe or myself being made on the part of this distinguished nobleman. PerhapS her was of the opinion that our fascinations would be dangerous with his amiable con sort. Perhaps he felt a little ashamed of himself. NO, 4. As soon as those two were gone, or a 0 least after a reasonable interval, Fortes cue addressed himself to.the young monk who played the part of host, and'remark ed that ho would go up stairs, and, if his wife wore somewhat recovered from her fatigues, would persuade her to come dowry and get thoroughly warmed at the fire be fore retiring for the night. Our host, with that interest in other pouple's affairs which foreigners either ibel to so delightful an extent, or assume so admirably, expressed his earnest hope that "Madame would be able to descend," and Fortcscuo left the apartment. I own that at this moment I feltsonie- what nervous In a short time the door opened, and Fortescue appeared with his wife on his arm. She' came up to me at once, and we shook hands cordially, while I spoke such words of congratulation as I had ready, which were, in truth, not very many. At one glance I saw that at all events the expresxion of her face ',yap safe. A great matter that, at any rate. The injury which she had sustained being from a kick, and not from a fall or dragging along on the ground, was con fined entirely to one portion (the left side) of her face. That that injury had been a terrible ono it was impossible not to see even now. The brow im mediately over the eye was scarred, and the eyebrow something interrupt ed in its even sweep; the cheek was scarred and indented, and there was e slight scar on the nostril, all on this same left side; but the eye, sheltered in its somewhat sunken recess,. bad escaped; the mouth was unhurt, and, above all, there was the expression, the general look, of which the attractiveness had been so great. That fearful injury which had looked dorm on from the turret window at Creel had loft much less dam age behind than ono could Oven . hey© hoped. We talked pleasantly, all throe togeth er—the rest of the company having re tired, and our host too—for nearly an hour. We talked of our travels, of the places to which they were bound and from which I was returning, and of a hundred other things, until the hour ad- monished us that it was time to part for the night. As we rose to say "Good.night"—my friend and-his wife standing up togethei I thought I had never seen a happier or a better-matched couple. Suddenly a thought seemed to strike her. She touched her wounded cheek slightly with her hand, "Would you have known me?" she asked smiling. "No one can tell," said Fortesone, in terrupting my ready answer, "how I love that precious scar"—he loaned down and touched it with his lips. "But for that wo might not bo together now. But for that your life, Mary, might have been one of misery unutterable, and mine—if not sacrificed on the plains of India— might have been as utter a blank as that of any one of those unknown men who have entertained us here to-night." To think the more a man eats the fit ter and stronger be will become. To believe the more hours children study, the faster they learn. To imagine every hour taken from sleep: is an hour gained. To act on the presumption' that smallest room is the house largo -,a nough to sleep in. To argue whatever remedy oause6 one to feel immediately better, is "goodfoe' the system, without regard to'more nb; terior effects. To commit an act which is felt in' it- self to bo prejudical, hoping that some, how or other that it may be done in your; case with impunity. . - To advise. another to take a remed which you have--tried,oi—withun - Fifia: log special onqury whether all the condi.. , . tione arc alike. ". ;,.. :‘ To eat without an appotite, fa' ,coAtin,4 ne to eat after it has been t.ati4ed,more r ly to gratify the tact°. TO eat a hearty supper: for. the plop 7 sure experienced duirig tidie it is passing dowri - ,the throat, at, the e)F., pense of a whole eight disturhed'Reep,:, and,Weafy *nking.the next norning,, -A - small Gorman baron had occasion a few days ago, to see Baron Rothschild; of Frankfort. The 'great financier Was writ ing away for ddar life when Baron X-L-- was •;antionncod. Ho did not dveti his eyes,-but - said -- -i - = , : "Take ja chairisie The beron,,withi tr.nwkiernasu , :teucht4 Hess about.tit)esi - said- 7 - ; •-•* gcSin indeed .: ] , tliigkibt :. dg3etiqp dot 4.41 1 hoer my rccno. ~I,fun a, barp4,4 1 89.7r., _the . • - ~* • "A4l , a. 41i,iiusat,id - pa ' r4Pike4Filiktd.,t)in: banii.er,"*ll "yo.# rea baron—. 4 ,t wo c hoirp,"then, yen ,ep .kind, and wait" lilll itave finished ildie letter.'l Nine Follies. =M
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