if r A TtfTEV SICKT ER, Proprietor.]
NEW SERIES,
Jtortjr $ raw! femumtt.
A weekly Democratic .J-—^
paper, devoted to Pol
tics, News, the Arts = 1 y >w. i I .
aod Sciences Ac. Pub- / ■ jjrj.Ap-4
i ished every Wednes- y-jGuSfflkS
"day, at Tunkhannock, ; -1
Wyoming County, Pa. / \ v .ffvfl IJ' *
BY HARVEY SICKLER.
Terms—l copy 1 year, (in advance) 81.50. If
not pain within six months, $2.00 will be charged.
ADVERTISIKTa.
10 lines art .
less, make three ' four , tico '.three ' sis ■ one
one square tcecksf reeks mo' Ih mo th mo'th ' year
1 Square l.Ou 1,-5; 2.25 > 2,8 i 3.00. 5.00
2 do. 2,00. 2.50< 3.23; 3.50 4,5C< 6,00
3 do. 3,00; 3,75! 4.75; 5,50; 7.00! 9.00
J Column. 4,001 4,50 6,50$ B,oo>
i do. 6,00'- 7,00; 10,00 12.00) 17,00.25,00
I do. 8 00; 9,50' H,OO 18,00 25,00 35.00
1 do. 10,00 12,00 17,00 22.10, 28,00 40,00
Business Cards of one square, with paper, S3.
JOS WOUK
of all kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit
the times.
Uusiiifss ,i]otiffS.
BACON* STAND Nicholson, Pa. —C. I.
JACKSOX, Proprietor. fvln49tf]
HS. COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON
• Newton Centre, Luzcrue Couuty Pa.
/-lEO. S. TI'TTOX, ATTORNEY AT I.AW.
II Tunkhannock, Pa. Oilice in Stark's Brick
Block, Tioga street.
ATTM. M. PI ATT. ATTORNEY AT LAW, Of-
V fice in Stark's lirick Block, Tioga St., Tunk
hannock, Pa.
IrfTLE & HEWITT, ATTORNEY'S AT
J I.AW, Offico on Tioga street, Tunkhannock,
Pa.
It. n. I.ITTLE. J HEWITT.
JV. SMITH. M. It. PHYSICIAN k SI RGEON,
• Ofice on Bridge Street, next door to the Demo
crat Offi. e, Tunkhannock. Pa.
HARVKY SIt'KI.ER, ATTORNEY AT LAW
and GENERAL INST RANCE AGENT - Of
fice, Bridge street, opposite Wall's Hotel, Tunkhan
nock Pa. -
DR. J. O. C:ORSEI.U?S, HAVING LOCAT
ED AT THE FALLS, WILL promptly attend
all calls in the line of his profession —maybe found
et Beeiner's Hotel, when not professionally ahs nt.
Falls, Oct. 10, 1361.
T >l. CAREY, M. I).— (Graduate of the E.
l • M. Institute, Cincinnati) would respectfully
announce to the eitizcus of Wyoming an 1 Luzerne
Counties, that he c ntinues his regular practice in the
various departments of his profession. May ne found
at his offiee or residence, when not professionally ab
sent
Particular attention given to the treatment
Chronic Diseas.
Centremoreland, Wyoming Co. Pa.—v2n2.
DIL J. C 15K('KEK & Co.,
PHYSICIAN'S Ck SURGEONS,
Would respectfully ni.n ;n c to the < : t*.7erts of V"y
oming that they have I' . ite l a> Melw-opany. where
they will promptly attend n> all calls in the lire of
their profession. M.tv he found at his Drug Store
when not professionally absent.
J. W. RIIOiYDS, M. ID.,
(Graduate oj the University of Pernio.)
Respectfully offers his professional service? to the
citizens of Tunkhannock and vicinity. He can he
found, when not professionally engaged, either at his
Drag Store, or at his residence on Putnam Street.
WALL'S HOTEL,
LATE AMERICAN HOUSE,
TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA.
THIS establishment has recently been refitted and
furnished in the latest style Everv attention
will be given to the comfort and conven'enee of those
who.patronize the House.
T. B. WALL, Owner ami Proprietor.
TfcnkMnnook, September 1! : I Q 6I.
fIORTH BRANCH HOTEL,
MESHOPPEN. WYOMING COUNTY', PA
RILEY WARNER, Prop'r.
HAYING resumed the proprietorship of the above
Hotel, the undersigned will spare no effort to
reader the house an agreeable pl.ice of sojourn for
all who may favor it with their custom.
RILEY WARNER.
_ September 11, 1861.
WAYWARD*S HOTEL,
TIXKTIAXXOCK,
WYOMING COUNTY, PENNA.
JOHN MAYXARD, Proprietor.
HAVING taken the Hotel, in the Borough of
Tunkhanncck, recently occupied by Riley
W arner, the proprietor respectfully solicits a share of
public patronage. The House has been thoroughly
repaired, and the comforts and accomodation? of a
first clas Hotel, will be fouud by all who may favor
it with their custom. Septeuber 11, 1361.
M. OILMAN,
DENTIST,
MAILMAN, has permanently located in Tunk
• hannock Borough, and respectfully tenders his
proftsrionnl services to the citizens of thus place and
•unrounding country.
ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIS
FACTION.
over Tutton's Law Office, near th e Poa
Offiee. "
Dec. 11, 1861.
Blanks:: Blanks !!!
BLANK
DEEDS
SUMMONSES
SUBPCENAES
EXECUTIONS
QONSTABLE'S SALES
Justice's, Constable's, and legal Blanks of all
kinds, Neatly and Correctly printed on good Paper,
and for sale at the Office of the '' North Branch
Democrat."
LIME FOR FARMERS, AS A FERTILIZER
for sale at YERNOY'S.
Mcihoppen, Sept. 19,15C1.
port's Corner.
THE LIGHT AT HOME.
The light at home ! how bright it beams
When evening shades around us fall;
And from the lattice far it gleams
To love, and rest, and comfort all.
When wearied with the toils of day,
A strife for glory, gold, or fame,
How sweet to seek the quiet way,
Where loving lips will lisp our name.
When through the dark and stormy night
Tho wayward wanderer homeward hies,
How cheering is the twinkling light,
Which through the forest gloom he spies !
It is the light of home, he feels
That loving hearts will greet him there,
And softly through his bosom steals
TVe joy and love that banish care.
The light at home I How still and sweet
It peeps from yonder cottage door—
The wearyjaborerto preet
When the rough toils of day are o'er!
had is the soul that does not know
The blessings that its beams impart,
The cheerful hopes and joy that flow,
And lighten up the heaviest heart.
miscellaneous.
(3 O
THE FIRST WRONG.
My story opens in a New England setting
room.
There wore three persons present. Let
me introduce them in in order.—Fist there
was Deacon II >1 brook, an old man, not far
ft m seventy now, with while hair, a tall
spare form, and decided features. Next, his
wife. a m< therfv old lady, with an expression
f such calm benevolence on her face as to
charm all who knew her. Yet, at this mo
ment. a .x ety. grief, and entreaty, struggled j
for the mastery. The third figure in the ta
bleaux was a young man, with a frank, hand
some face, of years not exceeding twenty,
who stood in the middle of the floor with a
downcast look, shrinking from the angry
words which his father uttered.
'•Henry," said the deacon sternly, " you
have disgraced yourself and me, a deacon of
ri:e church. You have embittered the de
clining years of your parents."
•• Don't be to hard with him, Deacon Iloll
brook," interposed bis Wife. " Remember it
is bis first fall."
" If he were anything el-o," said his father
still urappe.vcd; "but to think mT son
sin aid Become a gambler ! my son who lias
been so carefully tiained in the way he should
GO."
" It's only once," urged his wife, with a.! a
mother's instincts.
" There are some crimes which cannot be
committed once without sinking the soul
deep in sin," returned tie father with uua
bited severity.
AH this while the young man had remain
ed silent, although bis varying colors showed
that he feit deeply the harshness of his fa
ther's vr.nls. At length he spoke:
" Father," said- he, firmly, " you will one
day repent jour severity. No sooner had I
sinned than 1 rejtented, and made immediate
confession to you and my mother. Instead
of encouraging me in my repentance, you
loaded uie with reproaches, which tny con
science had anticipated, and which Heaven
knows I did not need."
Di.aeon Ilollbrook was about to speak, but
Henry rapidly continued :
" You tell me I have disgraced you. I
will remove myself and disgrace from your
presence."
As he was about to leave the room, his
mother asked anxiously :
" Where would you go to, Henry ?"
" Stay him not, Hannah ?" said the dea
con, sternly. "It is well that he should
leave a place where he cannot look an honest
man in the face."
" Deacon Ilollbrook, he is our son," said
his wife, reproachfully.
*' Would that I could forget it," was the
unrelenting reply.
These last wcrds reached the ears of the
young man as he stood upon the threshold,
and an expression of pain, half of indignation
swept over his face. He knew that he had
done wrong, but he felt that he had not for
feited forgiveness. M ith but one farewell
glance at his mother, full of unspoken grati
tude and love, he left the house which had
been to him so long a home.
This was the fault of which Henry Iloll
brook had been guilty : Having been sent
to New York by his father to collect a sum
of money due him, he had been allured to a
gaming-house by a companion, and there in
duced to play, though not until after much
persuasion. Having lost a part of the money
in his charge, he kept on playing in the hope
of recovering his losses. But, as might have
been expected, he lost all that remained of
the money. Then thoroughly ashamed, and
bitterly upbraiding himself for his breach of
trust, he went home and confessed all. This
confession was received, as we have seen, in
such away as to chill his confidence, and ex
cite his iudignatiou. And now he had gone
"TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RlGHT."—Thomas Jefferson.
TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCT. 15, 1862.
forth from home, a wanderer, he knew not
whither, with not one effort on his father's
part to stay him.
Let roe do Deacon Hollbrook tho justice to
say that it was not his own personal loss
that excited his vigor. The 6um, though not
large,—.sloo—was yet of importance to him.
Still he could overlook that, but not his son's
weakness and crime, as he termed it, by
which it was lost.
After Harry's departure, the old house be
came quieter than before. All the life had
gone out of it. Deacon Hollbrook himself,
was a man of very few words, and in his tac
turnity had abated his social tendencies.—
Very long, very quiet, and very tedious, were
the evenings which they spent together. On
one side of tho tiro sat the Deacon, gravely
reading through his spectacles, the agricul
tural papers, which came weekly. Opposite
him sat his wife, her fingers actively engaged
in knitting, her mind intent upon her absent
boy. All was staid, quiet and 6ubdued.—
There was not even a kitten to enliven the
scene. Mrs, Hollbrook had once ventured to
introduce one into the house, but the Deacon
speedily intimated his dislike of cats, and
puss had been banished.
One night Deacon Hollbrook brought a
letter for his wife. It was such an unusual
circumstance for the woman to receive a let
ter. that she tore it open with unwonted
haste.
What was it that made her eyes sparkle )
with jov? The familiar hand writing had j
not deceived her, she knew at once by ape- i
culiar flourish on the top of the H, that it j
was from Henry.
She read it through with greatful joy. It I
appears that Henry had worked his passage
to California, having no money ; and, leaving
the vessel at San Francisco, he went at once
to the mines, where he was now working.—
He had not been there long enough to form
an idea of what were his chances of success
He wished his mother to write, and promised
to keep her advised of his movements.—
There was only one reference to his father.—
It was this :
" I am afraid father still retains his bitter
ness towards tne. If this is the case do not
trouble him with any message, but if other
wise you mav give him my dutiful regards,
and say that I do not despair of making a
gcod and true man."
Deacon Hollbro- k did not look at his wife |
while she sat reading this letter, though the j
hand writing must have told hitn who it was
from.
" Joshua," said his wife timidly, using the
rarely mentioned Christian name of her has- j
bind, " this letter is from Henry."
'• So T suppose," said he coldly.
A? he spoke he took from his pocket the
Weekly Farmer, and adjusting his spectacles
began to read.
This was a hint, and so Mrs. 11. understood
it, that she did not care to pursue the subject
further. But she could not help asking :
" Wouldn't you like to read Henry's let
ter ?"
" You will oblige me by not mentioning
his name again," said the Deacon stiffly.—
" He has forfeited all claims to be considered
a son."
So days, months, and even years passed.
It lacked but a mon'h of five years since
Henry Ilollhrook left his home. There was
little change in the air of the grave, sober
mansion of Deacon Ilollbrook. The deacon
himself had failed more in these five years
than in any five previous. His form had lost
its ancient erectness, and was bowed. His
face had grown wrinkled and he spent more
time in the house. Mrs. Ilollbrook received
tidings at short intervals. Henry was well,
he wrote ; but he did not enter into particu
lars. Some time he should return to see his j
mother. Of his father he didn't speak.—
These letters were all brought home from the ,
village Post-Office by* Deacon Ilollbrook, but
he never signified any curiosity or interest to
learn their contents. Henry's name had not
been mentioned between the two for years ;
yet—and let it not surprise the reader—it
would be difficult to tell which thought of,
him the most constantly. Behind the Dea
con's taciturnity there heat a heart, and that
heart was more to his lost sou than he would
have been willing to admit.
All at once his quiet life was broken in up-1
on, and that in a most cruel manner.
One day he entered the house, his face was
pallid as a 6heet, and his limbs tottered be
neath him, his whole expression that of great
and intolerable anguish.
" What's the matter' Deacon ?" inquired
his alarmed wife.
" Hannah, we are paupers—paupers in our
old age !" said the husband bitterly.
" Good gracious ! what has happened, Josh
ua ?" asked his wife turning pale from sympa
thy.
Littb by little it came out that Deacon
Holbrook had became bondsman for a banking
officer with whom he was acquainted, and in
whose integrity he had the utmost confidence.
But to-day the astounding intelligence had
arrived that the officer, after serious defalca
tions had fled the country, and left his bonds
man to suffer. The amount for which the
Deacon had become bound was sufficient to
swallow up the house and farm—all in fact he
possessed.
The farm was not a valuable one. It corn-
prised sixty acres of rough soil, which by
hard labor bad been made to suffice for the
moderate wants of a small and economical
family. In the market it would not bring
over three thousand dollars, and for that
amount the Deacon was bound. Yesterday
he reckoned himself rich—now he regarded
himself as a pauper.
" This is indeed worse than death." thought
the Deacon with stern 6arrow," " The Lord
has indeed smitten me in my old age.,,
Little time was given for anticipation before
the blow fell. Tho Holbrook farm was ad
vertised for sale at auction, to take place in
three weeks. Bills were printed and posted
about on fences, and in stores. Meanwhile
Deacon Holbrook sank into a state of listless
apathy. All day long he would sit in the
rocking chair, with his eyes fixed on the op
posite wall, saying nothing, and apparently
paying but little attention to what was going
on about him. His wife scarcely less sorrow
ful than himself, feared that his reason was
undermined.
Three weeks passed by and brought the day
cf 6ale. Mrs. Holbrook would gladly have
absented herself, but her husband exhibited
more life than of late, and insisted on her be
ing present, so with rnauy misgivings she be
came an unwilling witness to the trying
scene.
The bidding commenced at $2,000 —
Gradually it went up to $2,800, and was
about to be knocked off at that sum to Squire
Clayton, when the trampling of horses hoofs
was heard and a young man with a handsome
face browned by exposure, leaped from his
horse and inquired eagerly the amount of the
last bid. On being told he exclaimed :
" I bid three thousand dollars."
At that price it was knocked down to him. |
"What name 6ir?" inquired the Auction
eer.
" Deacon Joshua Holbrook," was the re
ply.
There was a buzz of surprise, and the ques
tion was " who is he ?"' passed from one to
another.
" Father, mother don't you know your
boy ?" asked the young man, with emotion
Deacon Uolbrook's eyes lighted up with joy. |
Silently he opennd his arms. The reconcilia
tion was complete.
Henry subsequently explained that having
been successful in the mines he had wished to
return unexpectedly, when upon his arrival in
New York he had learned his father's mis
fortune be had instantly made what haste he
could to his native village, and fortunately ar
rived in time to prevent the sacrifice of the
farm.
" The Lord hath rebuked my vain pride and
the harshness of my heart that led me to turn
awav an only son," said the Deacon solemnly,
' Henctfo rth ntay ourhearts be filled with iovt
that fai'eth'not." And his wife and son rever
ently said, "Amen !"
WHAT PRESIDENT LINCOLN THINKS
OF HIS OWN PROCLAMATION.
Whilst Forney, Gteeley, the N. Y. Evening
Post, and, to descend from great things to
small, the Abolition organ in this city, are re
joicing over the President's emancipation
proclamation, and anticipating mighty effects
from it, such as freeing four millions of negro
slaves and setting them on to butcher their
masters mistresses, bringing the war to a
speedy conclusion and exhibiting in various
other ways the omnipotency of Abolition pow
er and policy, it may be interesting to know
what Mr. Lincoln thinks of his own handi
work.
The report of the Chicago committee sent
on to Washington city to lay the views of the
Abolition fanatics of that region before the
President and urge him to issue an emancipa
tion proclamation, hasjast made its appear
ance, and contains an account of the interview:
which if its length did not preclude the idea,
we should like to lay in full before our readers
As it is we shall only subjoin the President's
own comments or criticisms on the proclama. ,
tion, which was then in embryo.
The committee, arged upon the President
that God waspunishing the nation for the sin j
of slavery that the punishment would not
cease until the sin was atoned for by the wip
jng out of slavery, and that it was God s w ill
he should wipe it out.
To which the President meekly replied,
that the subject was one upon which he had
thought much for months; that he was ap
proached with the most opposite opinions and
advice by religious men who were equally
certain that they represented the Divine will;
and he was sure that either the one or the
other, and perhaps, in some respects, both
were mistaken in their belief. Having ar
rived at this conclusion, in which, we presume
every one will concur, and staled it distinctly,
as we have, to the committee, the President
humbly, but at the same time vert shrewdly
remarked: "I hope it is not irreverent for mc
to say that, if it is probable that God would
reveal His will to others on a point so con
nected with my duty, it might be supposed,
He would reveal it direcly to me ." Well,
certainly, one " might" think so, and very
naturally, too ; and if tho parsons couldn't see
the point, it was owing either to blind bigotry
natural stupidity, or very perverted ideas of
God's workings.
Having somewhat perplexed his pious advi
sers by his singular way of argCing the point
the President proceeded to say that it was a
subject so difficult that good men differed upon
it; that four gentlemen from New York, who
had called upon him on business connected
with the war, had got at loggerheads on t.ie
question, two of them advising htm to issue a
proclamation and two dissenting to the policy ;
that even the last session of Congress, in which
were a decided majority of anti-slavery men,
could not unite on the subject, and that the
same was true of the religious people. u Why,''
said he, (and this must have astonished the
pious gentlemen,) " the rebel soldiers are
praying with a great deal more earnnestness, I
fear, than our own troops, and expecting God
to favor their 6ide" —(what presumption!)
" for one of our prisoners, who had been a
prisoner, told Senator Wilson that he met
with nothing so discouraging as the evident
since/ Uy of the rebels in their prayers
" But," said he, "we will talk over the mer
'ts of the case and now comes the -nterest
ing commentary of the President on the text
of his own proclamation. We give his own
language, as reported by the committee, cut
ting it into short paragraphs, that the
lull import and force of the observations may
be the more readily seen. He says :
" What good would a proclamation of em
ancipation from me do, especialy as we are
now situated ?"
" I do not want to issue a document that the
whole world will 6ee must necssarily be inop
erative, like the Pope's bull against the comet."
" Would my icord free slaves, wh-tn 1 can
not even enforce the Constitution ia the rebel
States ?"
[No wonder, when he pays so little regard
to it himself ] •
"Is there a single court, or magistrate, or
iilividual that would be influenced by it
t iere ?"
" And what reason is there to think it
wonld have any greater effect upon the slaves
than the late law of Congress, which I ap
proved, and which offers protection and free
dom to the slaves of rebel masters who come
within our lines ?
" Yet I canuot learn that that law has
caused a single slave to come over to us."
" And suppose they could be induced, by a
i proclamation of freedom from me, to throw
themselves upon us, what should we do with
them ?"
" ITow can we feed and care for such a mul
titude ?"
" General Butler wrote me, a few days
since, that he was issuing more rations to
the slaves who have rushed to him than to
all the ichite troo]>s under his command."
j " TIIEY EAT, AND THAT IS ALL."
" It, now, the pressure of the war should
ca'l off our forces from Now Orleans to defend
some other point, what is to prevent the mas
ters from reducing the blacks to slavery
again ? for I am told that whenever the reb
els take any black prisoners, free or slave,
they immediately auction them off."
"Now, then, tell m•, if you please, what
possible result of good would follow the issu
ing of such a proclamation as you desire ?"
There is the President's own commentary ,
upon bis own folly. Who finally induced
him to post himself as a laughing stock for
the whole world, we do not know; but
we have in the proclamation ttself, which he
issued two weeks after ridiculing the idea,
that there was " pressure" enough from some
quarter to do it.
Let us hope that hereafter he may pray
with the fervency he ascribes to the rebels,
that the Lord may save him from his friends
and give him firmness to be a men
MAJOR JACK DOWNING.
This original and eccentric old genius says
he attended a Cabinet meeting just after the
late disaster at Manassas. lie addresses the
President as " Kernel," and tells his story as
follows:
" Wal," ses the Kernel, " Major it's oncom
mon hard for old men like you, I know ; but
i you jest meet with the Cabynet this mornin,
; an let us see ef some new plan can't be adopt
i ed to get oqt of this scrape."
So wen the time cum, I took my hickery
an weut in. Purtv soon the different mera
j bers cumdroppin in, one by one, an all seem
ed highly tickled to see me, except the Sew
ard, who has never forgiven for exposin
his detcpshin on Linkin wen he altered my
" Constitushioai Teliskope." Afiet they all
got seated, ses Linkin, ses he, " Gentlemen,
there's no use en}* longer of doing like the
ostrcch does, stick our heads in a sand bank
an say that 'we don't see it,' for wer're
whipped an driven back—in a word, we have
failed ? Now the rale questshun is, why
have we failed? What is the cause of it ?
Jest as soon as we kin find out the reason of
our failure, we shall know what to do to rem
edy it." " Now," ses the Kernel, " I want
every one of you to give me your frank, blunt
opinion as to the reason. First, I will call
on Mr. Seward."
Seward got up, looking as pale as a sheet,
and 6es he, " Wal, it ain't my fault. I've
paid no attenshin to the war, but have had
my hands full in keepin furrin na-hins from
! intcrferrin, an I've succeeded ; but ef I should
; give my opinion of the cause of the failure of
! cur efforts to restore the Union, I would say
it was owin entirely to (he ultra Republicans,
who wanted to kill slavery before they scotch
ed it. This let the cat odt of our bag before
I TBrtMB x *1.50 fElt ANHSTtTIf
the rite time. ft aroused and united the
South an divided tbe North. They saw What
we were after, JEf my policy bad bean ii
lowed, of pacifyin the South an of talkin 4 Un
ion' to the North, we would hate scotched
the snake of slavery, an then we could have
killed It at oar leisure."
Then old Welles got up, lookin tery sleepy.
He sed " the failure could not be charged
agin the Navy. It was the most wide-awake
institushin of the age. It had achieved all
the victories. The army couldn't do eny
thing without his gunboats. Every time tbe
rebils got at them, they had to retrete to hii
gunboats, In his opinion the army had fail
ed because it could not carry his gunboats
with it. He sed he had been tryin to invent
a plan to furnish each regiment with a gun*
boat for land service. Ef he could do that,
he thought Richmond might be taken early
next spring! The only thing lu all the war
that had not been a failure wero his gun*
boats!"
After he got thru, Linkiu called upoß me.
I jest hauled up my old hickery an laid It on
the tabil, an then puttm my elbows on the
tabil to rest myself, I began. Ses I u Kernel,
1 feel kinder scary to giv my opinion rite
here, after such a display cf larnin an elo
qnincc; but," ses I, as I understand the
questshin, it is this: We've been fightia to
restore the Union, and we've failed. Now,
what is the cause of the failure?" Set I,
"Is that it, Kernel ?" Ses he, Yes, Ma
jer ; that's it, exactly." " Wal," ses 1, " I
alters want to gret on the track afore I start,
an then I kin tell purty nigh where I will
fetch up. Now," ses I, " Kernel, I want to
ask you a questshin : Did you ever try to
split a peperage log ?" " No," ses he, " Ma
jer, I never did. Nobody would be such a
consarued fool as to try an split a peperage
log." " Wal," ses I, " Kernel, suppose some
feller should cum to you an tell yoll thai he
had been a year an a half tryin to split a pep-
I erage log, an couldn't do it, that he had fail
ed, an wanted you to tell him what to do,
what would you say to him ?" " Say to
him !—why, I should tell him he might jeat
as well whistle at the log as to try to split it
—that it warn't in the natur of sech knotty,
nerly, cross-grained timber to split < in other
words, that he wa9 tryin to do an ompossi
bul thing." u Now," ses I, " Kernel, that's
jest my idee about tryin to save this Union
by fightin ! You're tryin to do an ompossi
bul thing. After a year art a half of fightin,
you all acknowledge that you have failed, an
ali the Cabynet is wonderin why you have
failed. Now, it ain't no wohdef to me.
You have failed jest because, in the very na
tur of things, what you are tryin to do can't
be done :n that way. Y'ou're takin the rong
way to d<> it. Then I told the Cabynet that
the only way to get out of this scrape was to
have an arinistiss. stop the fightiu, and go t
taliiin—-that both sides had had enufl'of blood
shed now to satisfy them, an that the only
way to get at a settlement was to do that.
No conclusion, however, was cum to about
the armistigs. The Kernel can't bring him
I self up tu the idee yet. Ef the Governors
were only in favor of it, he would do it at
once. So I suppose for the present we shall
kee;,) on tryin to do an mnpossibul thing to
git the Union by fightin for it. Depend up
on it, tryin to split peperage logs ain't nothiu
toil." Yours till deth,
MAJOR JACK DOWNIHG.
JUDGE CATOS ON THE PRESIDENTS
PROCLAMATION.
Judge Caton is the present able and distin
guished Chief Justice of the supreme Court o
Illinois. In reply to a telegram, dated Otta
wa, 24th September, announcing that the
Democratic Convention there had passed res*
olutions, by an almost unanimous vote, con.
detnning the President's proclamation, be
wrote as follows :
SPRINGFIELD, Sept. 24,1862,
J. 0. GLOVER, Ottawa, Illinois:—
I expected it. I regret the proclamation aa
an ill-advised measure. It is a tub thrown to
the Abolition whale, which may endanger the
whole ship. It cannot change the actual sta
tus of the negro from what it would be with
out it. It weakens the hands and lays addi
tional burdens on the shoulders of those who
are exerting every energy to support the Gov
ernment in this war to uphold and restore
the Constitution and to suppress this rebell
ion. May God, in his His mercy to cmr bleed- "
ing country and endangered Constitution, .
grant that it may have no worse results than
to meet the disapproval of the Democrats ia
the free States, whose whole souls are engaged
in th* prosecution of this war. They cannot
be drawn from this support. They will pros
ecute tins war with unyielding energy, while
those who have extorted this unwise measure
from the President will be clamoring loadty
fur a peace by separation. Seven months
hence you will see these words vindicated.
This country is ours to maintain as much
as they are those of the President; and al
th' ugh he has done an unwise or unjustifiable
act, it will not warrant or induce us to aban
don thein, but stimulate it in greater efforts
to uphold and vindicate such sacred interests
Whatever the Administration may do this
people will defend and uphold their Govern
ment and country until the Constitution shall
be re-established over the whole land.
(Signed) J. D. CATON.
This reply will be appreciated, coming frorw
the distinguished source U dons, by all con
servative men of all parties.
7QL.2, NO. 10.