The pilot. (Greencastle, Pa.) 1860-1866, December 22, 1863, Image 1
THEP I_ L, 0 T IS maLisuED EVEY TUESDAY MORNING EY JAMES W. Id 'CRORY, (North West Corner of the Public Square,) e t the following rates, from which there will be no deviation: ain g le subscription, in advance $1.50 Within six months 1.75 Within twelve months 2.00 No paper will be discontinued unless at the option ,f the l'ublishers, until all arrearages are paid. No subscriptions will be taken for a less period six months. The Great AXERICAN TEA. COMPANY, 51 Veseg Street, New York; Since its organisation, has created a new era in the history of Wholesaling Teas in this Country. They have introduce] their selections of Teas, and are selling them at. not over Two Cents (.0S Cents) per pound above Cost, never deviating from the ONE PRICE asked. Another peculiarity of the company is that their TEA TASTER not only devotes his time to the eaten Lion of their Teas as to quality, value, and particu lar styles for particular localities of country, but he helps the TEA buyer to choose out of their enormous stock such TEAS as are best adapted to his peculiar wants, and not only this, but points out to him the bat bargains. It. is easy to see the incalculable ad vantage a TINA BUYER has in this establishment over all others. If he is no judge Of TEA, or the MARKET. if his time is valuable, he has all the benefits Of a well organized system of doing business, of an immense capitol, of the judgment of a professional Tea ,Taster, B ad the knowledge of superior salesmen. This enables all Tea buyers—no matter if they are thousands of miles from this market—to.pur chase on as good terms here as the New York mer chant■ Parties can order Teas and will be served by us as well as though they came themselves, being'sure to get original packages, true weights and tares; and the Teas are warranted as represented. We issue a Price List. of the Company's Teas. which will be sent to all who order it: comprising Hyson, Young Hyson, Imperial, Gun powder, Twankay and Skin. Oolong, Sone/tong, Orange and' Hyson Pekoe Japan Tea of ever/ description, colored and uncolored. This list has each kind of Ten divided into Four Clanies. namely: CARGO, high CARGO, FINE, FINEST. that every one mny understand from de seripion and the prices annexed that the Company are determined to undersell the whole reel trade. We guarantee to sell all our Teas at not. aver TWO CENTS (.02rents) per pound' above cost: 'be lieving this to be attractive ,to the many who have heretofore been paying Enormous Profits. Great American, Tea Company, • . Importers and Jobbers, Sept. 15, 1863-Bco.] No. 51 Vesey St.., N. Y $ 100 U c W ure A RD! for a medicine that Coughs, Lifluenza, Tickling in the 7hroat, Whooping C'ough,or relieve Consumptive Cough. es quick as . COE'S COUGH BALSAM Over Five Thousand Bottles* have heen sold in its native town, and not a single instance of its failure im known We have. in our possession, any quantity of cer-, tifientes. sonic ,of them from EHINENT PHYSICI ANS. who have used it in their practice, and given it the preeminence over any other compound. It does not Dry up a Cough, but loosens it, so as to ensibte the patient to expec torate freely. Two or three doses will invariably cure Tickling in the Throat. A half bottle has el- Ira completely cured the most STUBBORN cocci!. and yet, though it is so sure and speedy fn its opeiation., it is perfectly harmless, being puroly.vegetable.-. It is very agreeable to the taste,. and may, he.fttkroitlia terra to children of any age. In,eases of CROUP we will guarantee a cure, if taken in settioa. _hi) family should be without It is within the reach of all, the price being only 25 Cents And. if an investment. and thorough trill does not "hack up" the above statement:, the mosey will be refunded. We say this knowing its. merits, and feel confident that one, trial will secure for it a home in every household. Do not waste away with Coughing. when so small an investment will cure you. It. may be had of any respectable Druggist in town, who will furnish you with a circular of genuine certificates of, cures it has nude. C. G. CLARK & CO., Proprietors, ' • New Haven, Ct. At Wholesale, by • . Johnston, Holloway & Cowden, 28 North Sixth Street. Philadelphia,.Ps., For sale by .Druggists in city, county, and every where [Sept. 29, 1863 -gni. J. W. BARR'S Karamoth. Stove and Tinware Store Room, A foss doors South of the Diamond, Greencastle, Pa. THE undersigned having purchased. Mr. Need's 1 entire interest. in the Tinning business, wishes to inform the public at large, that he has on hand, at his extensive Stove store, COOK, PARLOR AND ;NINE-PLATE Stoves. Among them are the Continental, Koble 'Zook, Commonwealth and Charm. which he will sell 'heap for cash. The very best quality of Tin, Japaned and Sheet. Iron Ware, in great variety. RPOUT.ING of the best. material, for hoises, &c., manufactured tad put up at the shortest notice. All are invited to call at this establishment, as the sroprietor is confident in rendering satisfaction. sib In price and quality of his wares. My price hall be low! tow ! ! low!!! Save money by purchasing at headquarters All work warranted . August 26, 1868 WELLS COVERLY. DAVID H. HUTCHISON. VOVERLY & HUTCHISON kJ Have become the Proprietors of the UNITED 4 TATES HOTEL, near the Railroad Depot at HAR RISBURG, Pa. Tide popular and commodious Motel has been newly refitted and furnished through out its parlors and chambers, and is now ready for the reception of guests. The traveling public will find the United States Hotel the most convenient, in all particulars of any Hotel in the State Capital. on account of its access to the railroad, being immediately between the two great depots in this city Harrisburg, August 4, '63-Bm. GREENCASTLE SEMINARY. MALE AND FEMALE. THE subscriber will open a Male and Female Semi nary at Greencastle, on the fire! Monday of October next• Instruction will be given in all the Branches usually taught in a first class school. MUSIC and other Ornamental Branches will be taught by an ex perienced Female Teacher. A limited number of Pupils will be received into the family of the Prin cipal, as Boarders. For terms and further informa tion, address JOS. S. LOOSE. Greeneastle, Sept. 22, 1868.-2 m. VOL-1111 GREENCASTLE, PA., TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1863. NO 39 , • • %"•• • .•,,,^4••••".•••,,,0..••.0,0w4,•,,,,,,...,•,,,, rINISH THY WORK. Finial thy work, the time is short; The sun is in the west; The night is coming down—till then Think not of rest. Yes, finish all tby work, then rest; Till then, rest never ; The rest prepared for thee by God Is rest forever Finish "tby work, then wipe thy brow ; Ungird thee from thy toil; Take breath,-and from each weary limb Shake off the soil. Finish thy work, then sit thee down On some celestial hill, And of its strength-reviving air Take thou thy Finish thy work, then go in peace ; Life's battles fought sad won, Hear from the throne the Master's voice, ••Well done! well done!" FiniFli thy work, then take the harp, Give praise to God above ; fling a new song of 'nighty joy And endless love Give thanks to Hint who held thee up In all thy path belo*, Rhormade thee faithful unto death. And crowns thee now! WOUNDED AT DONELSON. "I must go! If I could resist the impulse that leads me to the scenes of excitement and dangers -the fierce wild life of the soldier, I • cannot still the small but , ceaseless cry of con • science. It tells me that I ought to devote myself to my country in this dark hour of trial—l cannot give it the life." Thus soliloquized Jervis Weston, as he sat alone in his office long after the busy streets were liiisbed, and all 'around were buried in the night's profoundest slumbers. " But Effie, what will she say ? and my mother? My lite, in one sense, belongs to them both. Have I a right to go without their full and free coasent Y Have I a right to peril their happiness- as freely as I would my own life? Yei. Yes, for onr country calls upon its daughters, no less than upon its sons, for sacrifice. lam decided. fro-morrow must see niy plans arranged.", The next day was a busy one. At noon he found an hour's time to tell his mother what he had done, to seek her approval and blessing. Neither were withheld. • Jervis was her' only son, her only child.— But she bade him go to the defence of his country, and gave .him her blessing. His heart was calmed and lightened by her strong 'oviug words. He hoped to find in his be trothed a woman like his mother—one who could forget self and give royally in the day of great needs. It was evening before he could go to her the lace draperies of the window, whose blind the servants had forgotten to close, be saw her sitting alone. A shaded light threw its downward radiance over her. Her face, with its pure Greek lines, was in rrofile—he needed not to have been a lover to have found it beautiful. Her, rippling hair, golden in the mellow light, shaded < the low straight brow, and fell in light curls over her snowy neck.— Her half-reclining attitude showed the outlines of her superb figure to the best advantage.— One hand, fallen at her side, held the book she had been reading. The other she leaned upon as in deep thought. Was she thinking of him ? Perhaps. Jervis Weston's was a lov er's heart. No wonder it beat tumultuously as he sprang up the steps and rang the bell. A moment more and he was in her presence, holding hor hand in ,his, reading something very„pleasautio her smiles and btushes, think ing toost,unfriendly that forgotten blind be had thought so friendly five minutes before. He did not want the passers-by to behold his rap tures, so ,be, sat down at a, polite distance from Effie Moore,.and let words, instead of caresses interpret his feelings. He forgot for a time the tidings he had to impart. Or, 'Mote 'truly, he Strove to forget tliA by his own Wet, he had decreed a separa tion between this lovely girl and himself; that it was possible, even more4han possible, that when they parted, it Must be forever. Meantime she was chatting gaily of some plans she had formed, of some parties she and her lover were to attend, and: of th 2 near fu ture that was to be so happy and binliant. It was very hard to tell her that all these plans were to be frustrated; and yet it must be'done. J. W. BARR I . l'° ~., 00Ph11v .... / 'r :I •,. " -..,1": " ,•.. .• I ifl., i 1 * ' 1 $ :,„". :,!'-, .:,:. I ')' ( T:1 1 ''',. ' 0 /' 0 ' 1 .. 47 t i . . i. - , •••, ( V - .,:•;:iii rt.. . :'' ' ' :_ fi d iumwp fili . . \ . \:: + 41 1 . :{1 .. ..,.. .. .. . . .„„, , - , • --,-• - - - • ' - -• eV •'• -• ' . %: 1 " • •• 7 • •••:•';;: .7 -, 6, 1-..„,,A1 .kvitni ', . •ii",!•:•,- "-`, I 49 1 a r e.. ~.... . <,.. , I 0 4 i P 41 0 4' - 4 1' A , 0 tir v - , A. 4 / ..,. 7 ~, 7/ 0 f , ,;:-..„, ~ ,1 . --' , ",.`,`.; 1.,:f , ------ ---.. 'N. , / / / A % 0 .' 'i- J 4, , ..-,,,- i7:.:2.-, i7 ,:' ,4 i- ' ~ ..---.l l° - el , .. ' ..." ''' • '`, ' - V -4 •1 1. • '-. 4.:. 1 "" -----, _ .-.- . -....-. -, -.,-. - 4' . , g' sclrct Pottni. 2 (boob BY MARY C. VAUGHAN. Done at once, for in three days his regiment was to march. He had written her a note the previous even ing, telling her what he thought of doing; he wondered that she did not help him by allud- ing to it. "Effie, I don't think I shall be able to go with you," he said, at last, hesitatingly. "I shall be away in a week," he added, as he saw surprise and annoyance flash across the 'face she turned to him. She turned pale as she saw his stern, sad look. She gasped his name, but stopped there, watching his face eagerly. "Did you get my note ? I thought it would have prepared you for this. Yes, it is true. lam going to war. 1 enlisted this morning. My mother has blessed Me and given her con sent. I have nobody else but you; you will not withhold yours ?" So he questioned, looking at her still for an answer. None came. IVe took her hand. It was very cold, and there was no response to his pressure. ''Speak to we, Effie, are you willing I should go ?" "Have you really enlisted ?" she asked oold- "Really, my pet." "It is useless then to ask me if lam willing. I think you should have asked that before.— My views of the matter can be of little conse quence now." Her tone was freezing, a little raised, clear, incisive, reminding one of the . tinkle of icicles on the winter day. "I thought it Jny duty to go, Effie. Do you think it was no sacrifice for me to leave you, my darling ? Only help me to bear it, dear. I have my part to do fur my country, dearest, and though it is hard that any trouble should fall upon you; you have yours also. Men must act, now, and women must suffer. It must be so, darling. Tell me if you are will ing to show yourself a true little patriot, and bid me God speed ?" "I have told you it is useless. What can I say. now ? And I suppose you have made yourself a pitiful lieutenant, or something of that k ind." "Not' even that, 'dear. I am only a pri- vate." - • She drew her hand hastily from his, and paced the room. "'Phis 'is , too Much—too much," he heard her say. . . "It was not enough to leave nie,'but he must disgrace me also;" and she flashed upon him au angry glance. I don't want to belong this scene. It pre sents a woman, a young. girl, in a most unlove ly aspect,—a selflih, tyrannical one. It' shows an angry woMan, trampling tin - Caring upon her own f heart, that she may wound another's. "No, no ; I don't love you;" she said at !aft, almost in a scream, so great was her an gry excitement. "Why should I , when you core so little for me ? You, who have now my promise to marry you, and then deliberately leave me.' Not only that, but disgrace mei as well. You 'are going ? Go then. No; I will not tuly good-bye. I don't care for you at all. I never wish to see you any more." These words were ringing in Jervis Weston's ears when he found himself again upon the sidewalk. It was no pleasure to him, then, to look through the lace drapery, and see Miss Moore restlessly . pacing the floor, her small hands clenched above her brow, and tangled iu her brown ringlets, her face flushed. her eyes sparkling, all the calm, ladylike repose of wanner, the gentle expression, departed from face and figure. His whole feeling was— " What tvpitty 'tis 1 love her so, that. even this is not sufficient to tear her from my heart." He had expected that parting to be - a sore pang ; but he had thought Effie Moore leal and true, and he had not looked for aught like this. After this, it was not easier for hint to go away, as one would, perhaps, think. He almost felt that he had not counted the cost— certainly he had not expected to sacrifice his love, for his country. It was much; very much, to have his mother's prayers—there was one earthly love that never could change, let what would come. "Mother, you will pray for me, and think of ms and love we," were his last words, and the mother knew that he was thinking of that oth er love, that had grown to be part of his being, and was lost. So the young soldier went away with a very sad heart. Ambition, patriotism,—his wild, exciting life—nothing could heal the wound, or make him forget the girl who had scorned him, And how was it with Effie Moore ? Was she happy ? Could she forget ? Did she find herself justified by her conscience or her heart f'or the deed she had done ? She was a motherless girl, and her father, immersed always in business and politics, had thought his duty done by his child when he gave her a luxurious home, sumptuous dress, and perfect freedom. No sweet confidences ever passed between this father and daughter. `Jervis Weston had sought his approval of his suit, and gained it, for he was wealthy, and rising iti his profession, besides being of an ld fathily. Beyond questions of that sort, Mr. Moore did not trouble himself. He heard that Jervis had gone to the war; gone, too, as a private, and he called him a "foolish young chap." It did not strike his dull perceptions that his daughter-was greatly affected by his absence, so be gave no further heed to a matter of so little importance. Others saw that Effie Moore was somewhat thinner than of old, somewhat absent in man ner, a tittle less stately, but the change was not very perceptible, and people had so much to talk about, to think of, in those early days of the war, that there was little comment upon the change. It was supposed that Jervis Weston was still her lover, and there was enough to account for her altered demeanor. Battle after battle was fought, and in each Jervis Weston distinguished himself. He rose from the ranks, rose grade after grade, until long before the battle winter of '62 was ended. he was captain of the company in which he had been a member at the first. Thub far he had escaped unharmed. He had seemed to bear a charmed life. Always in the thickest of the fray, shot and shell rained all around him, leaving him untouchcd. And so drew on the fatal days of the siege and surrender of Fort Donelsou. Over the wires quickly flew- the tidings of that desperate fight to the western city where Jervis Weston's mother and Effie Moore lived. It was a period of terrible suspense and appre• hension. Mrs. Weston spent the hours upon her knees, " wearying heaven with prayers,!' Effie was like a mad creature, in the solitude of her own apartment, or the great parlors, where she ordered herself denied to all callers. The servent thought she must be ill, losing senses, but her imperious manner checked-their expressions of wonder and offers of aid. Then came the ,tidings of surrender, and then slow• ly, all too slowly for hearts agonized by fear and apprehension, the list of the killed and wounded. Among the lists, conspicuous, was the name of Jervis Weston, captain of the gallant "Badly wounded i " that was the report, and scarcely an hour later a telegram reached Mra. Weston, informing her that his condition. was desperate, and that he had been removed to Cairo. There. was no time to be lost, and Mrs. Wes- ton was hastily preparing for the sad, hurried journey to lie side, when a. lady, who would not be denied, was ushered into her presence. As she advanced, she threw aside the thick veil which entirely hid her face, and disclosed the features of Effie Moore. Airs, Weston received her coldly. Her, warm mother's heart, that cherished Jervis. in its inmost depths as the most precious of earthly, things, could scarcely expand to cor diality in the presence of her who had so cruel ly treated him If she had been allowed a choice in the matter, she would not have re ceived her at. all. • Reluctantly she took the offered hand, then pointed to a seat, with a brief—" Pardon me; I am, as you see, very busy." "You are going to your son—to Captain Wes ton ?" The mother looked her surprise that such a question should be needed. "Assuredly," she replied. "The train leaves in an hour; and I must beg to be 'informed at once what has procured me the honor of this visit, for I must not be delayed." Her tones were cold, almost disdainful, for she was impertinet of the girl's presence. How the reply surprised Nr ! "Mrs. Weston, let me go with you. Iknow lam all unworthy, but I cannot live here. If I could only hear him say that he pardoned me, perhaps I might bear to live." "Why do you wish to go?" Mrs. Weston asked coldly. "You who cast him off—Who told him you did not care for him—who re• fused to give him God-speed ! Perhaps he had been less reckless of his precious • life but for you. No, 'no. Go home. I cannot talk with you—and he, is very low, and I will not have him agitated." "Oh, Mrs. Weston ! I have deserved it all, I know. You cannot -reproach tub. as toy oWu ADVERTISING RATES. Advertisements will be inserted in ma PILOT 84 tke following rates: column, one year of a column, one year. of a column, one year.. 1 square, twelve months 1 square, six months. 1 square, three months • 1 square, (ten lines or less) 3 insertions Each subsequent insertion Professional cards, one year heart does. I have loved him all the time, but it:was my wicked pride, my selfishness. Oh, let me go! I will not speak to him. He shall not see me. Only let me look upon him once more." And she prevailed, at last. When the train left, two muffled figures occupied seats in one of the cars,'silent, grief-stricken, conscious only of the hours that seemed so long, as the train dashed swiftly onward towards it destination. Weeks passed. The sparks of life lingered in the sick man's breast, but oh, so dimly, that often that pale watchers bent to listen if indeed the breath were not forever silenced. He had not recognized them. He had been conscious of nothing since that awful night when, with three desperate wounds, helpless and bleeding. he had lain half stretched across a log, half immersed in melting snow and mud, on the field where the tight was still raging. A Rebel soldier had spread his own blanket over him, and telling him that he would soon return to claim his prisoner, had left him there. Then the boom of cannon, the rattle of musket ry, and the terrible shouts and groans of the combatants, had mingled in one dull roar, and consciousness had lapsed into that long in sensibility. The spring sun shone warmly into the little room where, screened by curtains, his cot was shut off from the sad sight and sounds of the great hospital ward, when he once more opened Iris eyes with the light of consciousness shin ing from them. A female form bent over him, bathing his 'brow, and smoothing back the mas ses of dark black hair. Was it an angel ? ho thought, for he saw only shining curls of gold= en brown, and a pale, pale cheek, and then, without sound, the vision had flitted away. His mother.was there when again he opened his dazzled eyes. Joy overcame him. lie was not a prisoner then ; but where was he, and how came she there ? The rough walls, the plain white curtins, the narrow cot—surely this was not home. Too weak for thought, he fell asleep again, with his hand in hers, before his feeble, half-uttered questions had been answered.. And so the days passed—two and three. More than once, half-waking, he had seen that light, flitting figure, but when the mist of dreams and weakness had passed, only his mother answered when he spoke. Once he thought of Effie, but the thought brought a mental pang, and.of that was born a restless movement, that darted fire through all his un healed wounds, and he fainted. Still the thought would recur. In his sleep he felt a cool hand on his brow, not lighter nor softer than his mothers' but that sent a thrill, half pain half joy. through all his being. He woke one day, and laying with closed eyes, consicious of that touch, yet not daring to move lest it should be withdrawn. A murmur fell upon his ear—sweet, loving words, then a kiss, light as a snowflake, on his forehead, with his un wounded hand he clutched the sleeve that swept across his breast, and opened hh eyes upop—his angel If angels ever blush and weep, she might have been one—Effie Moore. kneeling there to wan, so ethereal, yet with the light of true love shining in her eyes, and the peace that comes of pardon gain, on her pure brow. It was a feeble . clasp that held her to ber lover's breast but she could not have broki- n from it if she would. And thus the mother found them—he sleeping the deep sleep of ex haustion, with a peaceful light upon his face— she watching him, still circled in that slight embrace, with ineffable joy and gladness shin ing from her eyes. The past was forgotten and forgiven. There came the hospital ehaplin 7 —Jervis would have it so—with a witness or two of his comrades, and made the twain one. Oahe Effie had dream ed of kneeling at the altar, in satin and laces, to take her marriage vows ypon her. A love lier bride, she knelt, in simple gowns of white, beside that bed of pain th4ter care:and pres ence had wadi a couch Of °roses for the wound ed soldier. And the mother gave her a bles sing, and joy and peace brooded over the strange bridal.—N. Y. *Ledger. Some men can never hold their own in con versation except by .holding their own— tongues Next to God, we are indebted to women, first for life itself, and then for making it worth having The currants in our gardens are easily stem med ; the current of life isn't. A bachelor's face is often the worse for wear —a married one's for wear and tear. $lO.OO 36.0( 20.00 8.00 6.00 4.00 1.00 26 5.00