Carlisle herald. (Carlisle, Pa.) 1845-1881, April 14, 1865, Image 1

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    TERIII..-01F, AD V E RTISI Ci•
Cu. 800.ara 006 101111eUen, .1 00
ffer each subsequent insertion, 60
Vor ide. Cyan. /Ideas thements, 26 00
Legal Notices 4 00
Profeaslooal Cant; without paper, 7 00
Obituary No an Comma nice.
Vona rel Ling to matte. eof psi
interests alone, 10 cents par
1911 PRINTING.—Our Job Printing Wilco Is the
iirgoit Mad most completo establishment in the
Ootin y. Four good Presses, and a general variety of
material suited for_plain and Fancy work of every
kind, enables us to do Job Printing at the - atortest
notiCe, and on the most reasonable terms. Pomona
In Want of Dins, Blanks, or anything In the Jobbing
,t,ine, will find It to their Interest to give us a call.
goal /information.
President—AßßAULll LINCOLN,
Vlee President—Mumma HAMLIN,
Iflocretary of State--Wss. H. SEWAND,
8 watery of Interior—Jew. P. Mama,
Secretary of Treasury--Wu.P FEREENDEN,
Secretary of Wer—Rowitt M. STANTON,
ScOC/OLSTy of Navy—GmeoN Viremas,
Post 'Master General—WS!. DENNISON.
/ ttorney General-JAMES 8. SPEED.
Chlof Justice of the United States-BALuo X P. Cuess,
Govortior—AmmEw G. CURTIN,
Secretary of State—ELl SLIFER,
Surveyor General—James r. BARR,
RCiitOF 001:10FRI- 1 / 8 A10 SUCRE ER,
Attorney General—War.lo. DI V REDITR .
Adjutant General—A L. Itosszu.,
State Treasurer—Many D. atoona.
0h1.3(.3 . 1141c of the Supreme Court—Ozo. W.Woon
President Judge—Hon. James El. Graham.
Associate Judges—lion. Michael Cocklin, Hon
Hugh Stuart.
District Attorney—J. W. D. °Melon.
Prothonotary—Samuol Shireman.
Clerk and Recorder—Ephraim Common,
Reglater—Geo W. North.
High Sheriff—John Jacobs.
County Treasurer—Henry S. Ritter.
Coroner —David Smith
County Commissioners—Usury Karns, Jobs DI
toy, Mitchell McClellan,
Iduperiniendrat of Poor House—Henry Snyder.
Physician to Jall—Dr. W. W. Dale.
Physician to Poor liouse—Dr. W. W. Dale.
Ohisf.Durgess— Andrew B. Ziegler.
Assistant Burgess—Robert Allison.
Town Connell—East' Ward—J. D. Rhineheart.
Joshua P. Dialer, J. W. D. Glllelen, George Wetzel,
Waist Ward-•-Gee. L Mtirray,lhos. Pair.tdo, A. 'Cath
tart, Jno. D. Parker, Jno. D. Gorges, President, of
Council, A. Cathcart, Clerk, Joe. W. Ogilby.
Borough Treasurer—Jacob Itheem.
High Constable Samuel Sipe. Ward Constable,
Andrew Martin.
Assessor—John utshall. Assistant Assessors, Juo
!dell, Gino. B. Deotem.
Auditor—Robert D. Cameron.
Tax Collector—Alfred Ithluebeart. Ward CoHee
tors—Bast Werd, Chas. A. Smith. Wont Ward, To eo
Common, Street Commissioner, Worley B. Matthews
Justices of the Peace—A. L. Sponger, David Smith
Abrm. Debut!, Michael Holcomb.
Lamp Lighters—Chas. B. Mack, James Spangler.
Pirst Presbyterian Church, Northwest angle (Wean
ire Square. Rev. Con way P. Wing Pastor.—Services.
every Sunday Morning at 11 o'clock, A. M., and 7
o'clock P. M.
Second Prembyterlan Church, corner of South Man
ors, and Pomfret street'. ite•. John C Bliss, Pastor.
Services commence at 11 o'clock, A. M., and 7 o'clock
P. M.
St. Jolla'. Church, (Prot. Episcopal) nortEeast angle
of Centro Square. Rev. J 0 Olerc, Rector. Service.
at I t o'clock A. M., and 6 o'clock. P M.
English Lutheran Church, Bedford, between Main
sod Loather streets. Rev. Jamb Fry, Pastor. Ser
vices et 11 o'clock A. M., and 8% o'clock P. M.
dermal Reformed Church. Loather, between Han.
aver and Pitt streets. Rey. Samuel Philips, Pastor
Services et Il o'clock A. Mr., and 8 o'clock P. M.
Methodist O. Church (rivet charge) cornet Of Main
and Pitt Streets. Rev. 'Mom). 11. Sherlock, Pastor.
Services at 11 o'clock A. M., and 7 o'clock P. M.
Methodist E. Church (second charge,) Rev. S. L
Bowman. Pastor. E ervicea in Emory 01.11. Church at 1
eiellock A. M., and 3% P. M.
Church of Cod Chapel South West cor. of West St.
and Chapel Alley. key. H. F. Beck, l'aeto . Services
at 11 a, in., and 0% p. m.
rt. Patrick's Catholic Church, Pomfret near East at.
Esc p s sw r . Services every other eab
bath. at 10 o'clock. Vespers at 3 P. M.
Berman Lutheran Church, corner of Pomfret and
Bedford streets. Rev C. Ntitae, Pastor. Bon Ices at
11 o'clock P. M.
wa_When ehangeg In the above are neemary the
proper persona are requentott to notify us.
Bev. Harman DL Johnson, D. D., and Pro
*nor of Moral Science.
William 0. Wilson, A. M., Professor of Natural
Selene* and Curator al the Museum.
Rev. William L. Dolmen, A. M., Professor of th •
Greek and German Languages.
gamuel D. Gillman, A. M., Profo-sor of &ethernet
Jahn H. Storm in, A. M., Professor of the Latin and
/ranch Languages.
Hon. James Li. Graham, LL. D Professor of Law.
Rev. Henry C. Cheston, A. 8.. Principal of the
Grammar Pchool.
John Hood, Arcriztant In the Grammar School
EL Coalman, President, James tiasnilton 11. Easton
R. C. Woodward. Henry Newsham, C.iP. Humerich
Beet'y ,3. W. Eby, Treasurer, John Sphar, Messenger
Meat on the tat Monday or each Mouth at 8 o'clock A.
EL, at Education Hall.
CVILLISLE Divosir BANlL—President, R. M. Hender
son, W. M. Beetem Cosh. J. P. Hassler and C. B. l'fahler
Tellers, W. M. Mahler. Clerk, Jno. Underwood Me.
stinger. Directors, It. M. Henderson, President, R. C.
Woodward, Stiles Woodburn, Moses Bricker, John
Zug, W. W. Dale, John D. Harps, Joseph J. Logan,
4120. Stuart, Jr.
FIRST NATMAL B atm.—President, Samuel Hepburn
Ca•hisr. Jos. C. Hoffer, Teller, Abner C. Brindle, Mes
meow, Jesse Brown. Wm. Ker, John Dunlap, Rich'd
Woods, Jelin C. Dunlap, .erias Brenneman, John S.
Sterrett, &AWL Hepburn, Directors.
Frederick Watts: Secretor. and Treasurer, Edward
If. Biddle: Superintendent, 0. N. Lull. Passenger
trains throe times a day. Carlisle Accommo •ation,
Restward, leaves Carlisle 5.55 A. M., arriving at Car
lisle 5.20 P. M. Through trains Eastward, 10.10 A, M.
and 2.42, P. M. Westward at 9.27, A. M., and 2.55 I'.
uel Todd; Treasurer, A. L. Spotwler ; Superintencen
George Wise; Directors, F. Watts, Wm. M. Bootees!
B. M. Diddle, Henry Saxton, K. C. Woodward, J. W
Patton, F. Gardner and D. 8, Croft.
Cumberland Star Lodge No, 197, A. Y. N. meets at
Marlon hall on the 2ad and 4th Tuesdays of every
Bt. John'a Lodge No. 200 A. Y. M. Mode 3d Thine
day of each month, at Marlon Hall.
Carlisle Lodge No. 91 I. 0. of 0. Y. Meets Monday
evening, at Trout's building.
Letort Lodge No. 63, I. 0. of 0. T. Meets every
Thursday evening in Rheem's Hall, 3d story.
The Union Fire Company was organized In 1780.
Houle la Louther. between PI tt and Hanover.
The Cumberland Fire Company was Instituted Feb.
U. Mg. louse In Bedford, between Main and Porn
The Good Wlll Fire Company was instituted in
March, 1855. House in Pomfret, near Hanover.
The empire (look and Ladder Company was lustiest
iled In 3,859. Howse In Pitt, near Main.
Postage on all letters of one half ounce 'weight or
wider, a cents pre paid.
Postage en the 1111 RA LI) within the County, free.
Within the gtate,l3 cents per annum. To any part
ofthe Milted States, 20 cents Postage on all Iran
1411.1 i papers, 2 (fonts per ounce. Advertised lettere to
be charged with cost of advertising.
Photographs, Ambrotypes, lvorytypes
Beautiful Albums Beautiful Frames !
Albums for Ladles and Gentlemen,
Albums Cr Nines, and for Children,
Pocket Albums for Soldiery and Civilians!
Choicest Albums I Prettiest A Ibumsl Cheapest Albums!
grosh,and hew from New York end Philadelphia
XI/ you want satisfactory Pictures and
polite attention call at Mrs. R. A. Smith's Photo
. n rani t g r a k tl i Tz ;ar Sz o t p k p E o : i s t t e trcg o cc u o r f t lil ic e , lze a r n tltf :s e t
111cer, Carlisle, Pa.
Mrs. R. A. Smith well known as Mrs. It A: Reynolds,
and so weil known as a Daguerrean Artist, gives per
papal attention to Ladles and Gentlemen visiting her
fiallery, and having the best of Artists gg4 polite at
tendants can safely Promise tbst jo nooihar Gallery
VW those Who fever per, with i s mill get pleturee aupe
slor to hers, not even in New York or rhiladelphia, or
inset with more kind and prompt attention.
4mbrotypes inserted in Dings, Lockets, Breast Pine,,
Ato; "veiled ova errhiperrotract and Ambrotypes
wide or deceased Mends. Where poplev are &tomb
teaks plettutes may still be Itad.either fpr frames or
or cards. AU negatives preserved one year and orders
py mail oyotherwisepremptly attended to.
Desemher 411,186 s—tr.
. .
hitless' 'fbrnterlY eonditeted by 00, Gout A
c0..1a not carded on by •
• •L
~ , JouN °MIAOW,
Jilyili; Dlitit:,--if amnion, Dumb. Clo.
- .1 DR.. WTI. H. 000 H,
StirAeon and 4ocoudiour
()PPIOE his repidenae in Pitt
street, adjoining the bletilndlet Church.
my • 1, /EOM.
rOr . 110 , 10.
TWO Law Mimi in Mr, Inboff
Building, on the Bouth-east Corner of the Centre
ultra Of Carlisle. For mticulate apply to
Th w• V Ol l l ,
Jantntry 6, 1885 . M.V3'. at Lew.
VOL. 65.
; ' • 'tors ;St Pro • rietors.
From the N. Y. Tribune.
Bad luck to the man who is sober to-night
He's a cowld-hearted bodhagh, or saycre
Whose heart for the Ould Flag has n!ver been
An' who takes in the fame of his counthry
no pleasure.
Och, murther I will r.ono o' yez hould me,
me dears!
Or its out o' me shkin wid delight I'll be
jumpin' ;
Wid me eyes swimmin' round in the happies
An' the heart in my breasht like a piston
rod thumpin' I
Mucha, glory to God! for the now you have
Wid your own purty fleth, Misther Presi
dent Linkin I
An' may God be around both the bed an' the
Where our bully boy Grant does his atin'
an' thinkin' I
Even Shtanton, to-night, we'll conflas he was
Whin he played the ould scratch wid our
have-you-his-ea r kiss ;
An' to gallant " Phil Sherry" we'll dhrink
wid delight,
On whose bright plume o' fame not a spot
o' the dark is!
Let the chapels be opened, the althars illumed,
An' the mad bells ring out from aich turret
an' shteeplo;
Let the chancels wid flowers be adorned an'
While the Sogartha—God bless 'em!—give
thanks for the people!
For the city is ours that " Mac " sought from
the start,
An' our boys through its streets "Hail Co
lumbia " are yellin' ;
An' there's Payee in the air, an' there's pride
in the heart,
An' our Flag has a fame that no tongue can
be Gallia!
To the diott/ wid the shoddy-contractors, an'
Them gold speculators, whose pie is now
" humble"!
The cost o' beef, praties, an' whisky will fall,
An' what more could we ax—for the rints
too will tumble?
On the boys who survive, fame an' pinsions
we'll press,
Every orphan the war's med, a home we'll
decree it;
An' aioh soldier's young sweethart shall have
a new dhrcas,
That will tickle her hayro, returnin' to see
Oh, land o' thruo freedom! oh, land of our
Wid your ginerous welcome to all who but
seek it;,-
May your stars shine as long as the twinklers
An' your fame be so grand that no mortial
can shpeak it!
All the winds o' the world as around it they
No banner so glorious can wake into mo-
An wid Payee in our own land, you know
we may go,
Just to settle some triflin' accountso'er the
So come, me own Eileen I come Nora an' Kate
Come Michael and Pat, all your Sunday
duds carry;
We'll give thanks in the chapel, an' do it in
8 thate,
An' we'll pray for the sowle o' poor Mur
tagh an' Larry.
Woe's me I In the black swamps before it
they shleep,
But the good God to-night—whose thruo
faith they have cherished—
His angels will send o'er the red fields a-
sh weep,
In aich cowld ear to breathe,—'Not in
vain have you perished!"
So bad luck to the man who is sober to-night!
lie's a cowld-hearted bodhagh, or saycrot
Whose heart for the Ould Flag has nivor
been right,
An' who takes in the fame of his counthry
no pleasure!
Och, murther I will none o' yez hould mo,
ma dears I
For its out o' me Elkin, I'm afeard, I'll
be jumpin' ;
Wid me eyes shwimmin' round in the hap
piest tears,
An' the heart in me breasht like a piston
rod thumpin' 1
New York, April 8 1865.
In the heat of the last French war,
some forty years ago, we 'were under the
necessity of removing from the North to
make our residence in London. We took
our passage in one of the old Scotch
smacks from Leith, and wishing to settle
down immediately on our arrival in the
great metropolis, we took our servants
and our furniture along with us. Con
trary winds detained us long upon our
passage.. Although a mere child at the
time, I well remember one eventful morn
in, when to our horror• and alarm, a
French man•of--war was seen looming on
the distant horizon, and evidently bear.
ing dawn on, us. • .
A calm had settled on the sea, and we
made but, little way, and at last we 'law
two boats lowered from the FroneliMen's
dna, epa epeetiily nearing us, This oo•
ourred shortly-after the famous' and he•
role resistance made successfully by the
crew of one Of -the vessels is the same
trade to a Fiench privateer. With this
glorious autecedent before our eyes, both
passengers• and . crew
_were disposed to
V .. b - tf:'''..l:',•l:::• . J - I.'t
make no tank, resistance. Our guns
were loaded to the muzzle, and every
sailor was bared for action. Old cutlas
ses and rusty guns were handed round
about, and piled upon the deck. Truly,
we were a motley crew, more like a sav
age armament of lawless buccaneers than
bloodless denizens sof peace. But hap
pily these warlike preparations were need
less, for a breeze sprung up, and though
we were pretty smartly-chased, the favor
able gale soon bore us far froni danger,
and eventually wafted us in safety to our
destined port.
' My mother was somewhat struck, du
ring the perioll'of our short alarm, by the
fearless and heroic bearing of our servan t
Jane. A deeper feeling seemed to per
vade her mind than common antipathy to
a common foe. In fact, at various times
during the previous service, when any
events connected with the French war
formed, as they ever did, the all-engross
ing subject of discourse, Jane evinced an
interest in the theme, equalled only by
the intense hatred toward the nation which
she now displayed. On the present oc
casion the appearance of the foe awak
ened in her bosom a thousand slumber
ing but bitter recollections of a deep do
meatic tragedy connected with herself,
and so far from showing the natural tim
idity of her sex, she even endeavored to
assist in the arrangement of our murder-
oils preparations
Even a shade of regret appeared upon
her face as we bounded over the spark
ling waves when our tardy foe seemed
bnt as a speck upon the distant sea. Du
ring the remainder of our voyage she
shrank into a dreamy melancholy. With
her head almost continually resting on
the bulwarks of the ship, she gazed upon
the clear blue depths below: and, had
we watched her closely, we might, per
haps, have seen some of the round tear
drops which gathered on her eyelid, and
fell silently, to mingle with the waters.
But we heeded not.
She was a singular girl, and seemed
evidently superior to her present station ;
yet she toiled on with the drudgery of
thu house, listless and indifferent, but al
ways usefully engaged. My mother was
not altogether satisfied with her work,
and still found a difficulty in blaming
her, She seemed to dream through her
whole duty, as if her mind was wrapt in
some strange fancies, while her hands
mechanically did her task. At last, af
ter long solicitation, she explained the
mystery by telling us her history.
We must throw our story back some
twenty years. tier family at that time
occupied a respectable, if not a wealthy
position in our northern metropolis. Her
father was engaged in a lucrative busi
ness, bad been married about six years,
and was father of. four children. Ilis
youngest daughter had been born about
three months previous to this period of
our tale. She was a singularly lovely
child. A sister of his wife's who had
had made a wealthy marriage with an
officer in the French army, was at this
time on a short visit to the land of her
birth. Madame de Bourblane was child
less, and her heart was yearing for those
blessings of maternal love which Provi
dence denied her. She was unhappy;
no wonder, for her home in sunny France
was desolate.
A little while soon passed away. Mrs.
Wilson and her father were seated at the
parlor fire one cold November night—the
one contemplating the blessings she pos
sessed, the other brooding on her far dif
ferent lot. The, children prattled mer
rily beside) them, and waited only for
their father's evening kiss, before they
went to childhood's innocent sleep. But
their father came not. His usual time
had long since passed, and his wife be
trayed some symptoms of uneasiness at
the unwonted delay. At last they heard
a hurried knock, and Mr. Wilson entered
the apartment. There wore traces of
anxiety and grief upon his countenance,
but as ho spoke not of the causes, his
wife forbore inquiries in the presence of
her sister. But Mr. Wilson was extreme
ly unsocial, nay, even harsh ; and when
his wife held out her babe, and the un
conscious infant seemed to put its little
lips for its evening kiss, he pushed the
child aside, and muttered something au
dibly about the curses of a married life
and the inconvenience and expense of
bringing up a large, increasing family.
The babe was sent to he'd, and the
mother spoke not, though a bitter tear
might be seen rolling down her cheek.—
She was deeply hurt, and justly so. But
Mr. Wilson bad met with some heavy
losses during the course oL the day . .—
These bad 'soured his heart and embit
tered-his words. Perhaps he meant not
what he said; it might have been but the
passing bitterness of a disappointed man.
However the ease Might be, the , words
he uttered remaihed• in the bosom of his
wife, rooted end ,faitering there; and
many a bitter pang had2.she in after life,
.4nd:the desolations and the sorrows which
despersed her family, some to their graves
others far aSunder—that all , could bii,is;
oribed to these few bitter words. . '
A week had seareely_elapp t d_ li i nm tb e _
ooeuerenees of that unhappy evening,
when an eve it took plain) which, wrought
'a fearful revolutiOn in that happyfamily.
purely the "evil e'ye" had looked tipou
I r that house.
Mrs. Wilson and tier sister went to
make a call upon a friend. As they ex
peoted to return almost immediately, they
left the babe slumbering in its cradle,
and sent the servant on some trifling er
rand. Circumstances retarded their re
turn. The anxious mother hastened to
the nursery to tend upon her babe. She
looked into the room, but all was still.—
Surely the - child was slumbering. She
must not rouse it from its peaceful dreams.
But all continued still.
There was a death-like silence in the
room. She could not even hear her in
fant breathe. She sat awhile by the
flickering light of the expiring fire, for
the shades of evening had gathered over
the darkening horizon. At length she
rose; she went to look upon her child,
she lifted up the coverlid. No child was
there. An idescribable dread took pos
session of her soul; she rushed like a
maniac from room to room. At last she
heard a noise; she flew to the spot. Yes,
three of her children were there, but the
other, her babe, her newest born, the
flower of her heart, was gone.
" My child ! my child I" she screamed,
and fell upon the floor. Her sister heard
the fall and flew up stairs. She knelt
beside the stricken woman, bathed her
temples with cold water, and, with a start,
Mrs. Wilson awoke from her swoon.
" My child, my child !" she sobbed.
" What of the child ?"-her sister cried.
"Gone—lost—stolen from its mother I"
soreanld the wretched woman.
" Oh, impossible 1 Bo calm; the
child will soon be found," said her sis
ter. "Some of the neighbors, perhaps
" Perhaps, perhaps!" hurriedly re
plied the mother, and she rushed from
house to house. The people thought her
mad. No child was there. Her sister
led her home. She followed her calmly,
unhesitatingly. Was her spirit broken ?
She was placed upon a chair; she sat ZS'
one bereft of reason ; her face was pale,
and perspiration, the deep dews of agony,
gathered upon her brow. Not even a
feather would have stirred before her
breath. It lookcd like death.
At last she started from her seat. Her
brow was knit, and her whole face con
vulsed with the fearful workings of her
"John! John !" she cried, "where is
my husband ? Bend him to me."
And they went to seek him, but be was
not to be found. They told her so, and
she was silent. here were evidently some
frightful thoughts laboring within her
breast—some terrible suspicions, which
her spirit scarcely dared to entertain. For
about an hour she sat, but never opened
her lips. It was a fearful silence: At
last his knock WAS heard ; the stairs creak
ed beneath his well known tread; he en
terod. The mother sprang upon her feet.
"John !" she screamed, "give me my
child ! Where have you put her? Where
is my child ?"
The husband started. /i Woman, are
you mad ?" he oried.
" Give me my child!"
" Wife, be calm"
" I will not be calm I My child I You
spoke coarsely to me the other night fur
nothing, John. She was a burden on you,
was she ? But why did you take her from
me ? I would have worked for her—
drudged—slaved to win her bread ! Oh,
why did you kill my child ?"
Tho man looked stupidly upon his wife,
and sank into a ohair. The room was fill
ed with neighbors; they looked at him,
and then at one another, and whispered.
" Give me my child !" the mother
screamed. He sat buried in thought, and
covered his face with his hands.
" Take him away !" she cried, and the
people laid their hands upon him.
Ho started to his feet and dashed the
foremost to the ground. There was a look
upon the man that terrified them, and
they quailed before him. He strode
before his wife.
" Woman," said he, "your lips accuse
me. Bitterly, aye, bitterly, shall you rue
this night's work Come, neighbors, I
am ready." And they took him to a mag
it My child !" the wretched woman
shrieked, and swooned away. Before a few
hours had passed she was writhing In.the
agonies of a burning fever.
And where was her husband then I
Walking to and fro upon the cold flag
stones of a felon's cell upon a charge of
murdering his child, his own ohild,
'doomed thither by his own wife. A close
investigation of every -matter connected
with this mysterious affair as set on foot.
No proof of Mr. Wilson's guilt could , be'
obtained. Ile„vras arraigned before -his
pountry'e lam, and 'after a patient trial,
was discharged, es his Judge eniphatically
pronounced, without a stain,upon his char
acter. Disehargid, forsooth I To what?
To meat t4e frown; and anepicions of .
too credulous, world;' to see the people
turn and stare behind him na he palsied
along the streets; to 'see the I children
shrink from him, and _flee as.from
monster; and to dwell in a desolate home;
own offspring.trembling if ho touched
thern r ata—his-wife--that —wife-who had
aeoused him—looking with , cold; inkepi.
nious, unhappy eye - upon the beirig she
had sworn to lino end cherish with' hor
Such was his fate. Who had wrought
it ? cilia wife recovered from her illness,
and ttpr sister wont her way back to her
home in France.
Schloin did the poor man ever speak—
there was a ,gloom about that desolate
house. His trade fell off and his credit
deolitied—and why ? Because his heart
was broken. Day after day he sat in his
lone counting house; there was no bustle
there. His books were covered with a
thick coat of dust ; and, as one by one
his customers stepped off, 80 poverty step.
ped in, until at last ho found himself
almOst a beggar He shut his office
doors—shut them for the last time, then
wiped away a tear, the first ho had shed
for many a day. He went home, but not
to the home he used to have.
His furniture had boon sold to supply
the 'common necessaries of life; and poor
indeed was their now humble abode.
There was silence in that little house,'
scarcely a whisper. In the secret foun
tains of his wife's heart, there was still
a depth of love forhim ; but always when
she would have breathed it forth the
strange, horrid suspicion would flit across
her brain—her child was not. He often
looked at her, a long, earnest gaze, but
he seldom spoke.
One evening, he was more than usually
sad. He kissed his children fondly. He
took his wife's cold hand, and, pressed it
in his own. "Jessie," said he, "as ye
have Own, so shall ye reap ; but I for
give you. God bless you, wife !" He lay
down upon his hard pallet, and when they
would have roused him in the morning,
he was dead.
Time rolled on with rapid sweep, alas !
bringing death and its attendant evils in
his train. Two of the widow's children
died ; and Jane was now about eighteen
years of age. Sorrow, rather than age,
had already blanched the widow's hair.
They were in great poverty; eked out a
sifunty livelihood with their needle. In
deed, their only certain dependence lay
in the small assistance which Madame de
Bourblanc sent from France. Perhaps,
had that sister known the straits of their
poor relatives, her paltry pittance alight
have been increased. They were per-
haps too proud to wake it known; as it
Wee, she knew not, or if
_she did, she
heeded not.
About this time, a letter reached the
widow from her sister. Besides contain
'ng the usual rettittance, the letter was
vimiiinaally long. She requested Jane to
read it to her while she sat and sewed.
What ailed the girl, her mother thought
as Jane gazed upon the page with some
indescribable emotions depicted oq her
face. "Mother," she cried, "my sister
lives I your child is found !" The widow
tore the letter from her daughter's hand,
and read it eagerly while her face grew
paler every moment - . Shogasped for ut
terance ; and the mystery was solved at
Yet, render, at last was the mystery un
raveled, and the criminal was her sister
she who had stood calmly by, and seen
the agony of the bereaved mother—she
who had beheld the injured father drag
ged as a felou to prison, when a word
from her would have °leered it all—she
was that wretch. Madame de Bourblanc
was childless and her heart yearned for
some one she could love. She saw the
little cherub of her sister, and she envied
it. She knew that if she bad asked for
the child, the mother's heart would have
spurned the offer, so she laid her plans to
steal the infant. She employed a woman
from France, who as she prowled about
the house, had seized the favorable mo
meat, and snatched the infant from its
cradle, and the child was safely housed in
France before the tardy law began its in-
vestigation. Madame de Bourblano re
mained beside her sister fbr a time; then
hurried off to France, to lavish all her
love upon the stolen child. It is true she
loved the child; but was it not a selket
love to see the bereaved mother mourn its
1,83, yet_never soothe her troubled heart ?
and was it not a cruel love, too, a house
hold broken up, affections desolated, and
all a to gratify a selfish whim of hers ? It
was worse than cruel—it was deeply crim
She brought up the infant as her own ;
she named it Amelia, and pretty she was.
Did a pang over strike into the heart of
that cruel woman, as the child would lift
is little eyes to hers, and lisp, "my moth-
er 1" She must have thought of the true
mother, broken hearted in another land.
Yea, a pang did pierce her heart; but
alas! it oawo too late; the misery was al
ready wrought. She wrote to her iojur-
:ed - sisteribegging• her forgiveness, and at
the same tieseoffering a oonsiderablesum,
if she would, permit the child to remain
With her, still ignorant of her parentage.
But she was mistaken in her hope ; for
not only did thti t another indignantly de
mand the restoration of her child, but she
did more; published the sister's let
ter, and;trinmphatitly removed the stains
that lingered on her dead husband'e mons-
Afew weeks after this, she went to'pny
a visit to the green-grave - of her broken-
heartethnab - alid - ;7 - eh - eirnelt - :uppn:tho-ver; -,
danCiriound; and yiaterddit.wjAh her tears.
•Ail her unjust, suspicions crowded on her
,cobboienbe reproached her bitter-
17. Eh IQ knOt and ouprilioatod hie ,fora
giveneas, seeming to commune with his
spirit on the spot whore his poor frail
body reposed in its narrow bed. Shefelt
a gentle touch upon her shoulder , it was
,her daughter Jane., One moment after,
and she was mlasped in the embrace of a
stranger. Nature whispered to the moth
er's heart her child was there, her long
lost child. She too had come to look
upon that lowly grave—the grave of her
After the first transports of meeting
were over, the widow found leisure to ob
serve her child. But what a poor young
delicate flower was she, to brave the rude
blasts of poverty. She was a lovely girl;
like a lily, fragile and pale, the storms of
life would wither her. Her mother took
her home, but the contrast was too great
from affluence to poverty—Amelia wept.
Poor Jane strove to comfort her; but she
might only use the language of the eyes,
for her foreign sister scarcely understood
two words of English. Amelia struggled
bard to love her new mother, and to re
concile her young heart to this sudden
change but the effort was tot) great, and
sbe gradually sank. Early and late her
mother and sister toiled to obtain for her
some of those luxuries to which she had
been accustomed ; but their efforts were
vain —she was not long for earth. The
widow had indignantly refused all offers
of assistance from her cruel sister, though
she felt that unless Providence should in
terpose, her s'rength must soon fail un
der its additional exactions.
A letter arrived from 'France ; it was
sealed with black. The opened hastily
and fearfully; and they had cause. D]ad•
ame de Bourblane was dead; she was sud
denly cut off to render an account before
her Creator. The shock was too severe
for poor Amelia. Day by day'she lan
guished, pining in her heart fur sunny
France. Three months after she had
reached England, Amelia died.
Her last words were, "My mother !"
Soon after, her own mother followed
her. Oh, that the purified spirits of
them all may meet in heaven. Jane is
the sole survivtir of this domestic trage
dy. Even she may have departedto the
haven of eternal rest, for she left my
tnothe . r shortly after we were settled in
London. We have never seen her since.
A lean, awkward boy came one worn
ing to the door of the principal of a eel
ebrated school and asks d to see him.—
The servant eyed his mean clothes and
thinking he looked worn like a beggar
than anything else, told him to go around
to the kitchen. The boy did as he was
bidden, and soon appeared at the back
" You want a breakfast, more like,"
said the servant girl, " and I can give
you that without troubling him."
" 7 hank you," said the boy, "I should
have no objection to a bite, but I should
like to see if he can see me."
" Some old clothes, pay be, you want,"
remarked the servancoAgain eyeing the
boy's patched clothes. " I guess he has
none to spare ; he gives away a sight,"
and without minding the boy's request,
she went away about her work.
" Cap I see Mr ?" again asked
the boy, after finishing the bread and but
" Well, be is in the library, if he must
be disturbed he must, but ho does like to
be alone sometimes," said the girl in a
peevish tone. She seemed to think it
very foolish to admit such an ill-looking
fellow into her master's preseitce, how
ever, she wiped,her hands and bade him
follow. Opening the library door, she
" Here's somebody, sir, who is dread
ful anxious to see you, and so I let, him
I don't know how the boy introduced
himself, or how he opened business, but
I know that after talking awhile, the
principal put aside the volume which he
was studying, and took up some Greek
books and beganto examine the new com
er. The examination lasted some time.
Every question which the principal asked
the boy was answered readily.
" Upon my word," exclaimed the prin
cipal, "you certainly do, well," looking
at the boy from bead to foot, over his
spectacles. " Why, my boy, whore did
you pick up so much ?"
"In my pro moments," answered the
Here he was, poor, bard working, with
but :t4 few opportunitioti for schooling yet
almost fitted for College, by simply irn_
proving lie " spare moments.' Truly,
are not apare moments the "gold dust of
time? How precious they should be?
What account can ' you show for them ?''
Look and see. .Tbie boy can tell you how
very much can be laid up' by_improving
them, and there are many , other Will, I
am afraid, in Jail,in'thnhoutid of come
'don, in the foteetistle of a whale ship; in ,
the tippling shop, who, if y o u should ask In Choosing your grocer lee yourmotto
them when they began their sinful cours- be " Measure's, not men." '
es, might answer, "in-my spare moments." It is said the prettiest ; gir ls in uto
" 10-my spare moments I gambled for generally marry Young.:
marble% lii my spare moments. I began The gospel of the day--The'Goepel
to smoke' and . 'drinit. - -- li - was - inemysfare - - Onriling'iii - SCLuore. -
moments that I gathered wicked ass°. I What did Li die of ? lodide, of potas
_ , • , , , ,
ciates." '-'-- slum.
Oh, he careful. how you spend your
spare moments Temptation always hunts
TERMS:--$2,00 in Advance, or $2,50 within the year.
you out in seasons like these, when you
are not busy, he gets into your hearts, if
he possibly 'can, in just suoh gaps. There
be hides himself, planning all sorts of
mischief. Take care of your "spare mo
ments."—Mrs. C. Knight.
Extraordinary Message.
TION OF APRIL 1, 1865.
WHEREAS, In the course of inhuman
Yankee events the capital of the Confed
erate States of America no longer affords
an eligible and healthy residence for the
members of the present Cabinet, not to
speak of the Chief _Magistrate himself,
the Vice President and the members of
the two congressional bodies, I do, there
fore, by virtue of the power vested in my
two heels, proclaim my intention to travel
instanter, in company with all the officers
of the Coefederate States Government,
and to take up such agreeable quarters as,
may yet be Granted unto me.
To such persons as are in arms against
the Confederate States of America, I do
hereby tender absolute amnesty on condi
tion that they forthwith desist from an
noying our patriotic population.
Under the circumstances, slavery had
better be abolished.
The capital of the Confederacy will
henceforward be found "up a stump" on
the picturesque banks of the celebrated
" Last Ditch."
To the foreign subscribers of the Con
federate loan I return sincere thanks.
lajJr General Grant, United States
army, will please see that they get their
All persons having claims against this
Government will please present them to
A. Linoolo,.Riehmond, by whom all such
accounts will be most cheerhlly.audited.
It is not altogether improbable that the
glorious experiment of a slaveholders' Con
federacy may yet prove a deluvion and a
snire. I I ave often thought so. So has
General Lee, who has lately been fighting
1110dt ly for his last year's salary. The Cen •
federate Treasury being light, I think I
will take it in my valise. General Lee
thinks that we have a good opening before
us, and that we have seen the last of this
fratricidal war. I hope so. Stephens
thinks peace more imminent than ever.
If the United States persists in ref us•
ing to recognize the Confederacy, on my'
return I shall again urge the arming of
he neg rues.
Office'-seekeis are respectfully solicited
o °me their•importunatings. Genius is
he i eau ideal, but hope is the reality.
Fellow-oitizens, farewell.
'resident of the Confedtrate States of
Done at Riihmond, April 1, 1865.
The world est'mates men by theirsucoess
in life, and, by general consent perma
mont success is evidence of superiority.
Never under any circumstances, assume
a responsibility you can avoid consistent
ly with your duty to yourself and others.
In other words, 'mind your own business.'
Base all your action upon a principle of
justice, preserve your integrity of charac
ter, and in doing this never reckon on the
Remember that self interest is more
likely to warp your judgment than all
other circumstances combined, therefore
look well to your duty when your inter
est is concerned.
Never attempt to make money at the
expense of your reputation.
Be neither lavish nor
.miserly; of the
two avoid the latter. A mean man is uni
versally despised, but public favor is a
stepping stone to preferment; therefore
generous feelings should be cultivated.
Promise but little ; think much, and
do more.
Let your expenses be snob as to leave
a balance in your pooket. Ready money
is always, friend in need.
Keep clear of lawsuits for oven if you
gain your case, you are, generally, a loser.
Avoid both borrowing and lending
Liquor drinking, smoking segars, and
chewing tobacco are bad habits ; they
impair, the mind and pocket, and lead to
a waste of time. They tend to lot one
down but never to lift one up, in the re
gard of the virtuous and the good.
Never relate your misfortunes to °there,
and never grieve over what you can not
QUIDDITIES...—NOVOr many a clever
woman. The reason why is self-evident
—she is 'sure to turn out not abetter half
werely,but in faot a master-piece.
Unsooial old Snarl says that love is a
ownbinatiorPof . diseases—an affection of
the heart, and, an inilawation of the brain.
It is dreadful easy to be a fool-i-a lnan
can be one and not know it.' '
_:'The real carte do vieite—a doctor's gig 1
Heir-gone—designing mammas. -
The following letter was the Cause of
mnoh amusement; on being reeclAutityr
the trial of a recent breach,o''piroipfsb_of
marriage case:
11j, clacr sapeetest 4122 10 hap
py to hoar from you ao• often- 7 1t affairda•
_me doh grate pleeher. - Yon war :Nap
so doer to me I hope yea will Anne be
deeror. You know I never hinted - 110th . --
ing about marrage and never imeea teat— ,
take your own time for that. , I shall all
ways remember the old cayin procrastina
tion is the 'theef of time, but mam nos
nothin shed be did in a hurry but ketch
en fleet The fondeat wish of my - leaut
is, that we may Cline become one: Did
you ever read Franklin's Eittatia--lelit
remarks oonoernin marrage is delltetaf.
Our hearts, be sea, ought to assemble one
another in every respect; they ought to
be hetergenius so that our union maybe
mixed as well as uniting—not like oil an&
water but tee and sugar. Truly I can feel
for the immortal Watts when he says;
The rows le red, the violets blue,
Sugars sweet and so are you.
NO, 15
Mother sez matrimony is better to think
of than the reality. I remain till death or
marriage, your own sweet candy, Mary
N. B.—l bad a kuaain married last
month who sea there ain't no true enjoy
ment but in the married state. •
Your sweetie dove, -
P. 8.-I hopo you will let. me know
what you mean to do as there is four or
five other fellers after me hot foot, and
shall be quite oneasy till I hear.
CONIINDRUMEL-Why should the ram
be regarded the principal animal of the
dairy Y. Because he is the butter of
course he is.
Why are suicides the most successful
in the world ? Because they always ac
complish their "own ends."
Why does a person that is poorly lose
much of his sense of touch ? Because he
don't feel well.
Why is it vulgar to send a telegram ?
Because it is making use of flash language.
What musical instrument has had an
honorary degree conferred upon it P—
" Fiddle, D. D."
What time by the clock is the most ef
fective ? When it strikes " ono."
1239—Sheridan was one day much an
noyed by a fellow member of the House
Commons, who kept crying out every few
minutes, " Hear ! hear !" During the
debate he took occasion to describe a po
litical contemporary that wished to play
rogue, but who only had sense enough to
sot the fool. "W hero," exclaimed he, with
great emphasis—" where shall we find a
more foolish knave or a InJre knavish fop'
than he ?'' "Hear I hear!" was shouted
from the troublesome member Sheridan
turned round, and thanking him for the
prompt information, sat down amid a gen
eral roar of laughter.
ger' A Renowned knergyman-of. New
York lately preached rather la long ser
mon from the text—" Thou art weighed
in the balance and found wanting."—
After the congregation had listened about
an hour, some began to get weary and
went out; others soon followed, greatly
to the annoyance of the minister. An
other person started, whereupon the par
son stopped in his sermon, and said,
"That's right, gentlemen, as fastas you: r 3
weighed, pass out." He continued his
sermon at some length after, but no one
disturbed him by leaving.
Lteir Mr. G., of a neighboring town,
was an excessively polite man. HO Ivas
driving some oxen one day, when he ad
dressed them with " Haw, Buck; and
also Bright." Falling overboard from a
sailboat, in which was a large party, be
was in imminent danger of being drowned,
as he could not swim. Even then his po
liteness did not forsake him. He said, in
gentle tones—" Gentleman, will you be so
kind as to help me into the boat ? My
garments are perfectly saturated with
Highest of Ole, and neared to divine,
I visit earth, but reign in heaven supremo t
With God I dwell; in all his works I shine;
He the full Fountain ; I the flowing dream
Faith shall retire, Hope at length shall muss,
Learning shall fall, and prophecy decay;
But of my empire shall be no decrease;
No end I know, and suffer no decay.
oar The following is reported as hap-
pening at an examination in Harvard Col
lege ; Examiner—" Why did Moses leave
Egypt ?" Undergraduate (with hesita
tion)—"Why, sir, hem—hem *" Ex
aminer—" Come, come; answer if you
know." Undergraduate—" Well, sir, I
suppose that little affair with Potiphar's
rm. A Candidate at an elution, who
wanted eloquence, when another had, in
a long and brilliant
.epeeoh y , promised"
great things, got up and said, ig glegtora
of G—, all that he has said.l
tga„ Billings, in desoantingnpon fOwl,s,
says of Shanghais; "it hosts muob to
board one amt due a state - how and .yu
mite az well undertake tew fat a fanning
mill by running oats thru
h 1
CoN. FON TA1L01213.-__OIP ‘)
MOO 0 coth
does it require to make a spirit, .rapper?
um,,Tua daughter of John Brown is
teaching a school of little contrabands in
a room of, Governor Wise's houie, where
her father's death, Warrant was signed.-
Virginia was dragged into this 'rebellion
to serve - the purpose's of South caroling ;
the Palmetto chivalry:little imagining tkat
before the end of thee:l2e they yonld be
compelled to abandon their:own Eltatq,-/
"the Yankees'' to . serye - qbe p.urpswe
Virrginia 'fitii''lO44.'S OriOah,tir" ,
heart of Solith.oarolina SO' „
A. Tender Eget*.
Your lover mete,