The pilot. (Greencastle, Pa.) 1860-1866, September 15, 1863, Image 1

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    I'l - [ E PILOT
N'IMISEILD EVEY TUYSDAY AIORNING BY
JAMES W. M'CRORY,
(S(rth cleat Corner of the Public Square,)
t the }' a llowing rates, from which there will be no
deviatiou :
le s ubscription, in advance $1.50
i li g
ithin six months 1.75
OM twelve months 2.00
s o paper will be discontinued unless at the eption
t hr Publishers, until all arrearages are paid.
Co su bscriptions will be taken for a less period
.tan six months.
[FOR TETE PILOT.]
THE REBS IN G
OR,
ViCiDENTS OP THE INVASION
BY ItUDIIIIIAS
Let's leave old o—, and go away—
To G.—, jttst far a loly-doy.
Let's leave old G—, our native town,
Anti then to Gettysburg go down.
Oh! Gettysburg! Oh classic ground!
Home of my youth for four years 'round!
Oh blooming fields! Oh copses green!
(oh fur the days that once have been!)
Those hills how oft I've roamed among!
Those dales how oft with music rung,
When years ago we used to there,
Rehearse our infant speeches rare!
We thought.not then a few more years,
Would give that place the name it bears!
We thought not then in time to come,
..Round Top" world ring with bursting bomb!
And Culp's big hill—oh now how great!
And Rock Creek where we used to skate,
We little thought would ever be,
A place so great in history!
The grove-yard, where we used to walk,
With ladies fair, to have a talk,
We did not think in sixty-three,
Would be the place it's proved to be!
July of eighteen sixty-three,
Did open end our classic G—.
The college bell's accustomed chime,
The town-clock's cheerful stroke of time,
The smithy's deep-toned business noise,
The gleesome note of playful boys,
The maiden's well-timed matin lay
All these in gloom were hushed to-day I
No ploughboy's early strain was heard,
No insect's hum, no warbling bird,
No notes of vocal nature wild,
Which soothe the soul—so sweet, so mild!
These, too, were hushed, and in their stead,
The war steed's quick stepped, prancing tread,
The fife's shrill note, the bugle's sound,
The shouts of armed men marching round,
The click of arms, the clash of'steel
Unsheathed to stay the Nation's weal.
With sounds like those the welkin rang,
With sounds like these, and frightful clang.
An the sun the zenith neared,
A distant thunder loud was heard.
It was the "cannon's deaf 'ning roar"—
The fearful death-toned note of war,
It was the war-dogs maddened growl—
Ms howl for blood—oh, what a howl!
The vales contigeous echoed long,
With its reverberations strong.
Its sound reflected, scarce had died,
When to their arms the rebels hied.
Another roar now burst, and yet,
Another still another met,
Until an unremitting sound,
Did make the very hillocks bound.
Sad to think, that ev'ry war.
Sent souls to hell ! What is this for?
"Thou shalt not kill!" and can it be,
That men have eyes. yet will not see 't
The battle raged now fearfully,
The bursting bombs flashed terribly.
Antagonist, both North and South,
Fought to the very cannon's mouth.
It wavered now for Meade and right—
Anon it changed for Lee ; and night
Found traitors vile possess the field—
The Union boys were forced to yield
Can pen describe, or tongue e'en tell
The woe, the murd'rous slaughter fell,
Which made those classic brooks flow red
With blood by bandit traitors shed?
Great heaps of mangled corses lay—
Poor victims of that. bloody day.
All bless their ashes—laud them well,
For Country and for God they fell.
And many more whose spark of life.
Was dimmed by that day's cruel strife;
Whose life-blood trickling slow away,
Left them in pain and misery,
Cried out in agony—that cry !
"Oh, take me Father—help me die 1"
Let's leave that field—that charnel house,
No trumpet more to arms win rouse
Those heroes brave who fell to-day
For Country and for Liberty
TO BE CONTINUED.
I WILL TAKE HER.
"You ought to marry!"
"Never."
"I know a good girl for you."
"Let me alone."
"But perhaps, you—pshaw !—you don't
know her. She is young."
"Then she is sly."
"Beautiful."
"The more dangerous."
"Of good family."
"Then she is proud."
"Tender-hearted."
"Then she is jealous."
"She has talents."
"To kill me."
"And one hundred thousand dollars."
"I will take her."
It 18 always the best of a bad position, but
not to put yourself in a bad position because
We can make the best of it.
111
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VOL-1111.
cool .storn.
THE GHOST-RAISER.
My Uncle Beagly, who commenced his com
mercial career very early in the present cen
tury as a bagman, will tell stories. Among
them he tells his Single ghost story so often
that lam heartily tired of it. In self-defense.
therefore, I publish the tale in order that 4hen
next the good, kind old gentlemen offers to
bore us with ;t, everybody may say they know
it. I retaember every word of it.
One fine autumn evening, about forty years
ago, I was traveling on horseback from Shrews
bury to Chester. I felt tolerably tired, and was
beginning to look out for some snug way-side
inn, where I might pass the night, when a sud
den and violent thunder-storm came on. My
horse, terrified by the lightning, fairly took the
bridle between his teeth, and started off with
me at full gallop, through lanes and crossroads,
until at length I managed to pull him up just
near the door of a neat looking country inn.
"Well," thought I, "there was wit in your
madness, old boy, since it brought us to this
comfortable refuge." And alighting I gave
him in charge to the stout farmers' boy who
acted as hostler. The inn-kitchen which was
also the guest room, was large, clean, neat and
comfortable, very' like the pleasant holstery
described by Isaac Walton. There was several
travelers already in the room--probably, like
myself, driven there for shelter—and they were
all warming themselves by the blazing fire
while waiting for supper. I joined the party.
Presently, being summoned by the hostess we
all set down, twelve in number, to a smoking
repast of bacon and eggs, corned beef and car
rots, and stewed, hare.
The conversation naturally turned on th
mishaps occasioned by the storm, of which
every one seemed to have his full share. One
had been thrown off his horse; another driv
ing in a gig, had been upset into a muddy
dyke; all had got a thorough wetting, and
agreed unanimously that it was dreadful weather
—a regular witches sabbath
"Witches and ghosts prefer for their sabbath
a fine moonlight night to such weather as
this !"
These words were uttered in a solemn tone,
and with strange emphasis, by one of the com
pany. He was a tall, dark looking man, and I
had set him down in my own mind as a travel
ing merchant or pedler. My next neighbor
was a gay, well-looking, fashionably-dressed
young man, who bursting into a peal of laugh
ter, said :
"You must know the manners and customs
of ghosts very well, to be able to tell that they
dislike getting wet or muddy."
The first speaker, giving him a dark fierce
look, said :
"Young man, speak not so lightly of things
above your comprehension."
"Do you mean to imply that there are such
things as ghosts ?"
"Perhaps there are, if you had courage to
look at them."
The young man stood up, flushed with anger.
But presently resuming his seat, he said,
calmly
"That taunt should cost you dear, if it were
not such a foolish one."
"A foolish one !" exclaimed the merchant,
throwing on the table a heavy leathern purse.
"There are fifty guineas. lam content to lose
them, if, before the hour is ended, I do not
succeed in showing you, who are so obstinately
prejudiced, the form of any one of your de
ceased friends ; and if, after you have r :cog
nized him, you allow him to kiss your lips."
We all looked at each other, but my young
neighbor, still in the same mocking manner,
replied:
"You will do that, will you ?"
"Yes," said the other, "I will stake these
fifty ginueas, on condition that you will pay
a similar sum if you lose."
After a short silence, the youtig, man said
gayly,
"Fifty guineas, my worthy sorcerer, are more
than a poor college sizar ever possessed; but
here are five, which, if you are satisfied, I shall
be most willing tu wager."
The other took up his purse, saying in a
contemptous tone :
"Young gentleman, you wish to draw back ?"
"I draw back !" exclaimed the student.—
"Well ! if I had the fifty guineas, you should
see whether I wish to draw back !"
"Her 4," said I, "are four guineas which I
will stake on your wager."
No sooner had I made this proposition than
the rest of the company, attracted by the sin-
GREENCASTLE, PA., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1863. NO. 27.
gularity of the affair, came forward to lay
down their money; and in a minute or two the
fifty guineas were subscribed. The merchant
appeared so sure of winning that he placed all
the stakes in the students hands, and prepared
for his experiment. We selected for the pur
pose a small summer-house in the garden, per
fectly isolated, and having no means of exit
but a' window and a door, which we carefully
fastened, after placing the young man within.
We put writing materials on a small table in
the summer-house, and took away the candles.
We remained outside, with the peddler among
us. In a low solemn voice he began to chant
the following lines :
hat riseth slow from the ocean caves
And the stormy surf?
The phantom pale sets his .blackened foot
On the fresh green turf."
Then raising his voice solemnly he said
"You asked to see your friend, Francis Vil
liers, who was drowned, three years ago off
the cost of South America—what do you see r "
"I see," replied the student"' a white light
arising near the window; but it has no form;
it is like an uncertain cloud."
We—the spectators—remain profoundly si
lent.
"Are you afraid ?" asked the merchant in a
loud voice.
"No I am not," replied the student firmly.
"After a moment's silence the peddler
stamped three times on the ground, and sang:
"And the phanton white, whose clay-cold face
Was once so fair,
Dries with his shroud his clinging vest
And his sea-tossed hair."
Once more the solemn question :
"You would see revealed the mysteries
of the tomb—what do you see now ?"
The student answered, in a calm voice, but
like of a man describing ; - things as they pass
before him:
"I see the cloud taking the form of a phan
tom; its bead is covered with a long vail—it
stands still." •
"Are you afraid ?"
"I am not."
We looked at each other in horror-stricken
silence while the merchant, raising his arm
above his head, chanted, in a sepulcural voice,
And the phantom said, as he rose from the wave.
Ile shall know me in the sooth!
I will go to my friend. gay, smiling, and fond,
As in our first youth !"
"What do you see?" said he.
"I see the phantom advance; he lifts his vail
—'tis Francis Villiers!—he approaches the
table—he writes !—'tis his signature?"
"Are you afraid ?"
A fearful moment of silence ensued, then
the student replied, but in an altered voice :
"I am not."
With strange and fantic gestures, the mer
chant then sang:
"And the phantom said to the mocking seer ;
I come from the south;
Put thy hand on my hand—they heart on my heart—
Thy mouth on my mouth!"
"What do you see ?"
"He comes—he approaches—he pursues me
—be is stretching out his arm—he will have
me ! Help ! help I Save me I"
"Are you afraid now?" asked the merchant,
in a mocking voice.
A. piercing cry, and then a stifled groan,
were the only reply to this terrible question.
"Help that rash youth !" said the merchant
bitterly. "I have, I think won the wages;
but it is sufficient for me to have given him's.
lesson. Let him keep his money, and be wiser
for the future."
He walked rapidly away. We opened the door
of the summer-house, and found the student
in convulsions. A paper signed with the name
"Francis Villiers," was on the table. As soon
as the student's senses were restored, he asked
vemhemently where was the vile sorcerer who
had subjected him to such a horrible ordeal—he
would kill him! He sought him throughout
the ino in vain; then, with the speed of a mad
man he dashed off across the fields in pursuit
of him—and we never saw either of them
afterwards.
That, children, is my ghost story
"And how is it, uncle, that after that you
don't believe in ghost?" said I, the first time
I heard it.
" Because, my boy," replied my uncle,
"neither the student nor the merchant ever
returned; and the forty-five guineas, belong
ing to me and other travelers, continued equal
ly invisible. Those two swindlers carried them
off, after having acted a farce, which we, like
ninnies, belisved to be real."
Sextons and undertakers are the eh eerfullest
people in the world at home, as comedians and
circus clowns are the most melancholy.
HOW TO POP THE QUESTION.
Gracious, sez I, "It's now time to lock after
Nance."
"Next day down I went. Nance was alone,
and I axed her if the squire was in ? She said
he wasn't."
"Cause," said I, making her believe thar
wanted him, "our colt has sprained his foot,
and I came to see if the squire would lend me
his mare to go to town."
She said she guessed he would. I'd better
sit down and wait till the squire comes in.
"Down I sot ; she looked sorter strange, arid
my heart felt mighty queer around the edge.
"Are you going down to Betsy Miller's
quilting ?"
"After a while," sez she.
Sez I, "reckon I would."
Sez she, "suppose you'll take Patience
Dodge ?"
Sez I, "I mought, and then I moughten't."
Sez she, "I heard you was going AEI
. get
married."
Sez I, "I wouldn't wonder a bit."
I looked at her and saw the tear a minimal:.
Sez I, "maybe she'll ax you to be brides.
maid."
She riz up, she did—her face was red as a
beet 'Seth Stroks ?" and she could not say any
thing more, she was so full.
"Won't you be bridesmaid, Nance?' I sez
"No," sez she, and burst out.
"Well then," sez I, "if you wont be the
bridesmaid, will you be the bride ?"
She looked at me—l swell. I never saw
anything so awful purty. I took right hold of
her hand.
"Yes or no," sez I, "right off."
"Yes," sex she.
"That's the sort," sez I, and gave her a kiss.
I fixed matters with the squire. We soon
hitched traces to the trot in double harness for
life, and I never had cause to repent my
bargain.
DON'T LAUGH.
"Mississippi rejoices in the possession of
the rude talents that distinguish a backwoods
preacher known as 'Uccle Bob.'
"On one occasion 'Uncle Bob' went to min
ister to the spiritual wants of some 'brethring'
who convened semi-occasionally at a little out
of-the-way church known by the very classic
name of 'Coon Tail.' Inspirited by a crowded
house, Uncle Bob turned himself loose in his
most tragic style. He beat, stamped, and vo
ciferated terribly. For some time previous the
rude pulpit had been unoccupied. Invited by
the apparent security and quiet of the place, a
community of 'bumble-bees' had built a nest
beneath. Uncle Bob's peculiar mode of con
ducting the services had disturbed the insects;
and just as he was executing one of his most
tremendous gestures an enraged bee met him
half way, and popped his sting into the end of
Uncle Bob's huge nose. He stopped short,
gave sundry vigorous but ineffectual slaps, when
he heard a half-suppressed titter from some
merry youths in a far corner of the, house.—
Turning toward them with ill-concealed rage,
he exclaimed, 'No laughing in the house of
God; I allow no laughing in my meetings
I'll thrash the first man that laughs as soon as
service is over !" This threat checked the in
cipient merriment. Uncle Bob regained his
composure, forgot the bees, and soon warmed
up to a forty-two lick. But again, in the midst
of the most impassioned gesticulation, a bee
struck him full in the forehead; he bowed,
dodged, and beat the air frantically, until a
roar of laughter rose from the congregation.—
Uncle Bob looked at them a moment with
mingled feelings of rage and disgust, and then
shouted, '3leetin's dismissed ! Go home !
Just go home, every one of you! But as for
me [taking off his coat], I don't leave this bill
as long as there's a bumble-bee about the
house 1"
"There was a sermon and a bumble-bee's
nest spoiled that day, certain."
"ARRAN, me darlint !" cried Jamie O'Fala
gen to his loquacious sweet-heart, who had
given him, no opportunity of even answering
her remarks during a two hours' ride 'behinu
his little bay nags in his oyster-wagon—"are ye
afther kuowin' why per cheeks are just like
my ponies there ?"
"Sure au' its because they're red, is it ?"
quoth blushing Bridget.
"Faith, an' a better raison than that, ma
vourneem. Because ihere is one uv thin' each
side of• a wagin' (wagon) tongue !"
Many run about after felicity, like an absent
man hunting for his hat while it is on its head.
ADVERTISING RATES.
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Each subsequent insertion
Professional cards, one year
Little-OC-11otl)ings.
War isn't a game of live and let live
A person with a bad cold generally seems to
think it can be snuffed out.
Musicians are 'often hard to get along with ;
they are a crotchety people
The beautiful tresses of young ladies are
beau strings
There are letters of marque, and a great
many letters that are in nowise letters of mark.
The great poet rubs our eyes with common
clay, and we see the stars and flowers anew.
A blunt truth is very likely to bruise a man
without penetrating him.
Of all the heathen deities, the hungry man
would probably prefer Pan.
Don't tempt to cudgelling unless you have
some ability to cudgel.
Charity may sometimes, gush forth from the
hardest heart like silver water from the rock.
If an allegation is made against you, consid
er the character of the alligator.
' The most and the best that is done for you
must be done by you.
Better be accused of a vice, being innocent,
than acquitted of it, being guilty.
Terrible are the wounds that War inflicts
upon a nation, but Peace heals them at last with
the olive oil.
When the wind whistles through your key
hole, it expects you to whistle with it. It is
sounding the key-note.
When the head and the heart act each other's
parts, both perforce indifferently. Let each
stick to its role.
A young woman may get her lover upon his
knees if she can, but she should never let him
get her upon them
A great soul has nothing to do with consis
tency. He may as well concern himself with
his shadow on the wall.
The world is not greater than man. No man
is called on to lose his own balance for the
world's advancement.
The demagogue blows up the flames of po
litical discord for no other occasion than that
he may thereby handily boil his own pot.
If you are in a book store, and the booksel
ler knocks you down with the first volume of a
book, you knock him down with the second.
It is said, that, of all the teas, Souchong con
duces most to scandal, but a good many reputa
tions have been blown up by gunpowder.
A truth breathed by pale and gentle lips
may be more crashing than the heaviest can
non-ball or the most terrible thunderbolt.
Many a spiritual shepherd takes up the
crook, not that the sheep may be fed, but that
he may never want a warn) woollen suit and a
joint of mutton
The great poet tell us that music soothes
the savage heart. So, if you are captured by
the Indians sing and whistle with all your
might
If you can't make a village or a parish or a
family think alike, don't suppose you can make
a world pinch or pad its beliefs to a single pat-
tern
Let us learn the mild lesson nature teaches
that our own orbit is all our task, and that we
need not assist the administration of the uni-
IME2
Love, in a tiny form, may enter into the
heart through a small aperture, and, after it
gets in, grows so big on what it feeds on that
it can never oqueeze out again.
The familiar experiment of the hydrostatie
paradox, in which a capillary column of water
balances the ocean, is a symbol of one man's
relation to the whole human family.
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