x JSIGKLXJUZE*., Proprietor, j NEW SERIES, forfb ffraitrii Sfraorrat. A weekly Democratic paper, dcvoteil to Pol- feskai /<'( 1?" ties, News, the Arts i i & and Sciences Ac. Pub- jttlLVj. 2555=- 1 isbed every Wednes- ,'j day, at Tunkhannock, \y tfifrrS Wyowiug County, Pa. V f* & BY HARVEY SiCKLER, - Terms —1 copy 1 year, (in advance) -51.59. I not pain within six mouths, £2.00 wnl be charged 10 lines ori . \ \ l \ less, make three \four \ tiro Jhrcc. \ six one one square iceeks mo'th mo Ui^year l"sauar~ ~IM 1,25? 2,2a'' 2,87; 3,OuJ 5,00 2 j 0 2 00; 2,50 3,25 3 50; 4,50 b.OO 3 do. 3J)O 3,75' 4,75} 5,50; 7,00; 9,00 I Column. 4,00; 4,5" 6.50 S.Uu, 10,00; 15,00 do. 6.00 7,00j IU.OO 12.00 17,00} 2a.00 do! 800 9,50 14,00 13,00.25,00 35,60 1 do. 10.09M2.0U. 17,00 22,00,2S, 00'40,00 liusiucss Cards of one square, with paper, 85. TOI3 WOriK of all kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit \fo times. i i i ■—mr—r r - q— '■ ■ lll ■ glitsiiu'SS p E<>. • TITTTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW IJT Tunkhannock, l'a. Office in Fturk's Brick Block, Tioga street. Wjm. M. P? ATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Of- W fiee in Stark's Brick Block, Tioga St., lunk hannaek, Pa. > R. Si S, W, LITTbE ATTORNEY'S AT, it LAW, Office on Tioga street, lunkhannoek Pa. rT S.COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON I. Newton Centre, Luzerne County Pa. I IMB FOR ? ARMERS, AS A FERTILIZE : I j for sale at \ ERNOI Mcsfeoppon. Sept. IP 186' j T V. SMITH, M. D . RILY.-ICIAN & SURGEON, ! • Office on Bridge Street, next door to the Demo crat Office, Tunkhannock, l'a. 1 > I?, r C BHO K !'. if . PHYSICIAN A SURGEON, Wnnld respectfully announce to the citizens of Wy oming that he has located at TtnikWannock where he will promptly attend to all calls in the line of his profession. Will be found at home on aturdays of each week. WALL'S HOTEL, LATE AMERICAHOUSE, TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA. I'HIS establishment has recently been refitted and furnished in the latest style Every attention will fie given to th couiiurt and convenience of those who patronize the House. T. B. WALL, Owner and Proprietor. Tunkhannock, September 11, 1861. NORTH BRANCH HOTEL. AIESIIOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA Win. 11. COIMRIGHT, Prop'r j TAYING resumed the proprietorship of the above L L Hotel, the undersigned mil -pare no effort to fender the house uu agreeable place of sojourn for •if who way favor it with their custom. Win 11 CCKTRIIIIIT. June, 3rd, 1563 stfaiis I)otfl, A., . D- B. BARTLET, (Late of the BBUAINAKD IIOSSK, ELKIRA, N. Y". PROPRIETOR. The MEANS HOTEL, i-on? of the LARGEST nnd BEST ARRANGED Houses in the country —It i> fitted up in the most modern and improved style, and n.i pains are spared to make it u pleasant and agreeable stopping-piace for all, v 3, n2l, Iv M. OILMAN, DENTIST. A T OILMAN, ha? permanently located in Tunk l\l. hnnnock Borough, and respectfully tenders his professional services to the citizens of this place and urrounding country. ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIS FACTION. I'if' Office over Tut ton's Law Office, near the IV- Jffiee Dee. 11, 1861. A GENTLEMAN', cu.ed of Nervous Debility. In competency, Premature Decay and Youtiiful Error, iictuatee by a desire to benefit others, will be b ippy to furnish to all who need i■ t (free of charge ), the recipe and direction? for making the simple remedy used in hiscase. Those wishing to profit by bis. and liossese a Valuable Itemed}, w-11 reieixe the came by return mail, (carefully sealed,) hy addressing JOHN B. O(? n EN No- 60 Nassau street, New York. % 3-n4O-3m0.. DO YOU WISH TO BE CURED 7-n BI CUAS's EKOT.Isa SPECIFIC pitps cure, i ess than 30 days, the wor? f "ftses of NKiivorsHESS — 1 mpotency, Premature Docay, Seminal Weakness, Insanity, and all Urinary, Sexual, and Nervous Affections, no matter from what cause produced - Price, One Dollar per box. Sent, postpaid, by mail on receipt of an order. Address, JAMES S. BUTLER, Station D, Bible House New York. n3l-3iu. M. & Co,. rT SE Jf? o OTHER '-BUCBAK'S SPECIFIC n . „ 'l' arc the only Reliable Remedy for all Distitsai of the Seminal, Urinary nnd Nervous Sys rn'nv a M° d be cureJ ONE DOLLAR A HOX. One hox m l perfect u CHre , or lQ re tmied. bent by mail ou receipt of price JAMES S. BUTLER, ' Stat n D. Bible Poase NvtV York, ... General Agent U i.Ce * fact's Corner, The Independent Farmer. Let sailors sing of the windy deep, Let soldiers praise their armor, But in nij* heart this toast I'll keep, The Independent Farmer, When first the rose in robe of green Unfolds its crimson lining. /.nd ronud his cottage porch is seen The honeysuckle twining ; VYhon banks of bloom their sweetness yield, To bees that gathet honey, lie drivos the team across the Sold, Where skies are soft and sunny. The blackbird clacks beh nd the plow, The quail pipes loud and clearly, Yon orchard hides beyond its bough. The home he loves so dearly • The gray nDd old barn doors unfold His ample store in measure, More rich than heaps of hoarded gold, A precious, blessed treasure ; While yonder in the porch there stands His wife the lovely charmer, Thesw, etest rose on a 1 his lands— The independent Farmer. To him the spring comes dancingly. To him the Summer blushes. The Autumn stuiies with mellow ray, His sleep Winter hushes ; He cares not how the world may move, No doubts or fears contound iiira , His little Ilock are linked in love. An 1 household angels roune hiin ; lie trusts to Go! and lovbs his wife, No griefs no ills may harm her ; lie's Nature's nobleman in life — The Independent Farmer. Select Sdorn, l — / - -o TH K NY I EE'S J > It K AM. "Your partners wife has them, Frederick an i I should think y< u would try and keep upjwith him, when your income is precisely the s:;tne. 1 have been mortified to death j every tune Mrs. Denham has culled." "Pity, isn't it ?" was the laconic reply, and the iips of the young husband took a decided curl, as he busied his eyes on the morning paper, which had been lying unno t ced beside him. Mrs. Porcivai pushed her plate away, and,, arose from the tabic with a dissatisfied air. and entering the parlor adjoining the cozy little breakfast room, commenced pulling ah stractedly at the brown leaves ibat had hid den themselves among the bright green of the vigorous plants that occupied the win dow o( the pleasant little {parlor; and now and then she w. uid bestow a contemptuous j glance upon li e plain white screens that shaded the upper part ef the window. " How meanly they do look," she said to ln-rself; " 1 will not give it up so. Fred (aloud.) I wish you had the least bit of pride in the world." " Yi i have en >ugh for both of in," was the response, as the husband threw down his paper and joined his wife. '• But, riffle, truly these plain shades suit my taste much better than those guilt ones you were so desirous of obtaining. They I are in such perfect keeping with the whole room. Can you not see there is nothing to compare with these expensive curtains ?" " 1 know everything is as cheap and mean as can be,'' was the unpleasant reply, "If you on!} had a little of Denham's spirit, things would wear a very different loon." " Eflie, you know Mr. Denham has dono comparatively nothing towards furnishing his house ; Mrs. Durham is the only child of wealthy parents, who supply her with every thing she wishes. Had you been such, you would have been furnished with luxuries, perhaps " " Don't fiing my poverty in my face, Fred erick Percival'" was the quick retort, while her far face flushed with anger. " I wish from my heart you had married a rich wife." " And }ou a tich husbaud." " I did not say it," " But you thought if. Very well, I wish you had." Mr. Percival turned into the hall with a deep cloud upon his brow, almost the first that had been visible since the happy morn ing. one year before, when he had brougut his bride to the pleasant home, in one of the ino6t beautiful of the suburb towns ncai the metropolis, where he had just entered in to business inon the capital he had carefully hoarded through the lcng years of his clerk ship. This home had looked very sweet and beautiful to the newly wedded pair ; and the furniture, carefully and tastefully select ed and arranged, and looked quite elegant to Effie. But long before there was a spot or blemish upon any article in the nice'y-kept rooms, they were-tarnished in her eyes by the contrast presented in the newly-furnish ed home of her husband's partner ; and for weeks she had been growing more dissatis fied and unhappy—constantly urging some trifling change, which her husbaud made, or as kindly refused, till, wearied by her con stant importunities,thhs morning had brought -> open disagreement. The j-ou'ig husband put on his overcoat in the hall, and without the usual parting kiss and kind good rooming went out, and Effic "TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RIGHT. "—Thomas Jefferson. TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 20 1864. watched him fr m the window as he hasten ed down the street, hoping for some token of love, but there was none. lie stopped a moment to hail a passing car, jumped quickly upon the platform aud was beyond her sight. Soraow and anger were mingled in 'her heart for a moment, but the latter quickly gained the ascendency, and returning to the breakfast-room, she commenced clearing the table with such a resolution as to cause the little maid, who was the only servant in the household, to leave het breakfast unfinished, and gaze eageriy iuto the troubled face of her mistress. Oh, what hard, bitter thoughts rolled over in the mind of the young housekeeper, as she went about her morning duties ! ' T > thinkhow I have to drive and delve, ' were a portion of her thoughts. " I don't get tune to read or prac ice, and my hands" are getting so black and dingy, and I grow old and faded every day ol mv life. Oh, dear, and then to think, after all I do for him, 1 <aii't have anything I wast." But when ihe work was all nicely com pleted, and a cheerful fire lighted in the par lor, .Efffe went in and sat down to her sew ing. It was a dress for herself she was mak ing, of a costly pattern which Frederick had place' under her pillow a few nights previous and had proved such a welcome surprise.— Now it had lost ail its beauty ; her thread knotted, her stitches looked long n;.d uneven, and at last she threw it down impatiently, and taking a book which was lying upon the table, tried to interest herself in its pages. Frederick had heard her wish for that too, and it was his hand that had traced the lov ing lines up ui the fly-leaf the day previous. Somehow everything she touched seemed to prove that her husband was not such a ; ■hard-hearted wretch after all ; but she was ! hardly ready to acknowledge it to herself ju-t then, so she petted and nourished the hard, revengeful lcelings, till she dropped asleep upon the sofa. The vision of an elegant home rose before her. Tho hangings upon (he wall were choice and costly ; the carpet was of the finest tex ture : the rich furnafure and all accompani ments of wealth and luxury surrounded her; while before the windows hung the identical shades which had filled her waking moments wi:h such anxious wishes. But she, the mis tress of it all. was still unhappy. A vague, undefinabie fear found its way through the mazes of .sleep. Her husband's affections seemed alienated from her, and she was alone at nightfall anxiously awaiting his return. A confused murmur of voices ran through her dream; heavy footsteps were heard treading the hail; the door opened nd the body of her husband was borne into her presence. So sudden and terrible was the shock, she only gazed in speechless agony upon the wounded body ol" her beloved companion.— The strangers who had borne him thither had withdrawn, and she was left alone with the partner of her husband, who approached her and grasping her arm firmly, said in tones of deep sternness: ' Woman, behold your work ! in your fool ish pride and ambition,you have iv:coked ihe happiness of that noble, generous soul. One hour since he came into the store with pale face and agitated frame. ' Walter," he said feelingly, "I ain a ruined man. To gratify Effie's ambition and have peace in the house hold, I have bartered my soul and body and now the end has come. lam overpowered with debt ; I cannot meet the eyes of the world, ncr the reproaches of my wife;" and before I could detain bim be had taken his own life in his hands and ended his miserable existence. You have sent him uncalled and unprepared into eternity. IDs blood be upon your head." In agony Effie awoke from her troubled sleep, and springing up, gave an eager glance around the appartment. "Thank God," broke fervently from her lips, "it is only a dream I Never before had her own little parlor looked so sweetly in its plain, substantial dress ; and even the despised shades wore a changed look, now that sue no longer saw them through a distorted vision, "Dear Fred, what a naughty wife I make you, I ought to be ashamed, aud lam truly Yon are yet hardly stalled in business, and of course want to be prudent till you know how you are to succeed ; and I am burdening you wit 8 reproaches, and teasing you for every thing that comes into my little, wilful head. Oh! if that dream ha' been true. It must seive m for a lesson at any rate. I was no happier in my sleep that I had all those beau tiful objects around me,for which I have been wishing so constantly. And would they be worth 'fFredrick did not love me? While I have him and the wealth of his deep affec tion, I ought and will be satisfied." The tears flowed d ,wn the flushed cheek— not the bitter tears of unsatisfied pride,but hearty, generous repentance. Before the tears were wiped away the door bell rang. The shades had come. "Mr. Percival sent them. Tn which room will vou have them hung?" * Effie was not expecting them, and there was only a momentary struggle before 6ht answered firmly : "I am sorry to trouble you, sir, but since my husband went out I have concluded to do without them. \Vhst shall I pay you for your and get you to take them back ?" "Not anything, Mrs. Percival," was the hearty response. "Indeed, I hardly knew how to let your husband have them, as they were partly promised to another, but he seemed to have quite set his heart upon them It's all right,l presume." The clerk went dowu the steps, aud Effie turned back into the parlor with a happier heart than she had ever known at the gratifi cation of her most cherished desires, and when ou the same afternoon, she received a call from the partner's wife,so fair a face had her home put ou she forgot the contrast be tween the two, and ceased to feel tho least mortification at her own humble lot. The day wore slowly away, and, long he fore the nsual hour Effie had tea ready, and stationed herself at the window to watch the coming of the absent one. The warm breath that left its faint impress upon the glass against which her anxious face was pressed* came a little quicker as the familiar form came up the street. She ran to open the hall door as usual, but blushes nestled in her cheeks, and tiiere was an embarassment min gled with ker joyful greeting- Her husband met her kindly, but a faint remembrance lankled in his heart, and he could not forbear the thought: I should have met with a cooler recep tion had it not. been for the shades conse quently his first glance was towards the windows, but tho satue old curtains occupied their place. " Didn't Mr. Webster send those shades 1 ordered ?" "W hat shades, Frederick,'"' inquired Effie w'th a strong effort to control the mirth that was speaking from her eyes, and which at last broke from tho rosy ,lips with the histo ry of the day. But, as she proceeded, tears toek the place of smiies, and tho eyes of her husband pre sented a sympathetic appearance, and press ing her more closely to him,"he 6aid : Wiles* you, my little wife, and forgive roe too, for harboring such unjust thoughts to ward you, I went into town feeling very bitterly, aud everything went so badly it on ly increased bad feelings "After a little time M rs. Denham and her cousin come in. I was hidden from them by a pile of goods, and the first words 1 noticed were from the younger lady : "We are going to call on your partner's wife this aftei noon, Mr. Denham ; I am pre pared to love her dearly from Hester's ac count.' ' " She is a paragon of perfection in her eyes I believe," was the reply ; " and she quite merits it, for she is truly a charming littlo lady." " Oh, Fred, Mr. Denham didn't say that about ine /"-{chimed in the young wife. , " Yes, and that's not all. Mrs. Denham went on to speak ot you in terms of war mest praise, and then she said, she is a cap ital housekeeper lam going to ask her to give me lessons when we are a little better acquainted. Her home is so neat and nice, that when I come from a call there I feel really ashamed of my lack of taste. By the way Elfie, I guess that is the way you ladies have (4 seeing other people's houses. Well, then, I thought I was a perfect monster. 1 know the conversation was true, and I deter mined to spare nothing that wonld add to your gratification, and show others what a model housekeeper i bad for a wife. That was bow the shades happened to come. " Ab, Effie, in my pride for you, I might indeed have realized the fatal ending. Let us wait awhile, till we are established in bu siness. and be sure r.ot to go one ccut be yond our income now, nnd perhaps one day we may have luxuries too " " Aud don't we have rww, Dear Fred ? Is not it a luxury to have you come-home so strong and well, and to hold so much love for each other in our hearts? How fojlish I've been to envy Mrs. Denham, and to make my self wretched and ycu too. Forgive me just this once, and I promise never to forget the "Dream Lesson." VILLAGE LIFE.— How many pleasing ideas does the term call up in the fervid imagina tion—peace, purity che, fulness, simplicity, kindness, rural scenes and rustic sports.— The words have magic power. The chord of feeling is touched and sweetl}' will it vibrate beneath the hand of the magician fancy . Hallowed by the music of Goldsmith and Crabbe, village life is decked with images the most delightful. It rises up, before u? ever as they have painted it; the holiest, kindest feelings live in its pages ; the relig ious, aud domestic, the neighborly virtues shines brightest there. The village church— the village school—the village green ! sweet thoughts of gentleness and love, are yet a kroawi ? Do ye exist only in the pare minds which have so Bweetly shadowed ye forth? Ah; how often have the inhabit ants of the busy city, worn with the cares of world, yearned for your peaceful joys, kear village life. How often has the member of refined society, satiated with gayety, long ed for a retreat which he thinks can only be founri among your shades. Yes !—the mouii.-r over past joys—the roan or the woman who has 6een the fleeting wealth of | tne world depart, 6eeks fur obscurity and I happiness in the village life. The Slighted Maiden M, P- an old soldier of atern and un yielding disposition, decided to marry hia son to the daughter of a fellow companion in arms. Tne young man ha 4 conceived other projects, and conlPacted another engagement, but, through,excessive timidity, poor Arthur did not dare openly to resist the com mands of his father, whose first word had been so brutally overwhelming, that he parsed all the tune between the engagement and the wedding, doing nothing but sighing deeply. Mile. Fmraa L took his melan choly for classic symptoms of love, and began to adore him more than ever. On the morn ing of the wedding, they repaired to the house of the magistrate; Arthur was sad, re served, and seemed to have formed seme des perate resolution. Emma was in raptures. Monsieur, the Mayor ofO the pre liminaries being over, addressed the bride groom the customary question : "Arthur P ,do you consent to take Emma L for your wife ?" Arthur slowly raised his head, and ina voice choked by emotion, but full and reso lute, replied : No!" General excitement, scandal and scenes of confusion prevailed. {They separated in dis order, the indignant parents demanded an explanation from M. P. , the father, who seimed struck with apoplexy. As for Ar thur he escaped and left for Paris. Some days after, a young lady uscended the stairs of a furnished hotel, llue Saint Ilonore, She had inquired of the porter.for M. Aithur P , who had arrived the ev ening previous. It was Emma come to Pa ris with her father aud M. P , in search of her affianced who had so shamefully iD suited her ; but she was alone now. She rapped at the door of No. 17, and entered without waiting for an tmswer. The young roan was lying down reading a newspaper. Emma walked directly up to the bed, and drawing frutn under her shawl an enormous horse pistol, which doubtless, she had stolen from b-T father. "Sir," said she to Arthur, her eyes Hash ing lire, " you have insulted me; I demand satisfaction; that satisfaction I exact pistol in hand. Let us return to the Mayor of C , both in wedding attire; he will put you the usual question ; you will say 1 yes, I wi!i sav ' no.' " Emma brandished her pistol in both hands T t was an argument. But, after all, it was only her right, or nearly so ; at least such was Arthurs opinion. He consented, and left the same evening with his father, who gnashed his teeth all the way. They ap peared again before the Mayor—tho same .magistrate. Arthur boldly answered "yes," and prepared his countenance, always bashful cuough, in order to hear the reply of his be trothed. The Mayor continued Emma L ' do you consent ?" Emma answered " YJE6,' in 'he most natural tone imaginable. M. P , the father, is deiightod, and feels a>>ured that a union commenced under such auspices will end in a fairy tale ! One of Oss lan Dodge 's stories We recent!v met our friend, Dr. J. J. Lord, formerly of Boston, Mass The doctor is notonTy compouduer of roots and "y arbs," but one of the finest poets in the land. He has been a resident of this section for about six years. During hi* first few years he was extensively-engaged in buying wool, end, on one occasion, becoming a little bewildered Pith the multiplicity of crooked roads over the bread praries, he rode up to a small cab in, enclosed in a clump of locust trees, and hailed a boy, perched on the top of a hen coop, with : "Hello, boy!" "I reakon you're a stranger?" was the rc- spomc. "Look here, 6onny." " I ain't your sonny." ''No, you ain't my sonny, but If you'l jump down and come hero I'll give you a dime," The boy sprang as if alighting from a wasp's nest, and, coming up to the stranger, exclaimed . " Well, old lioss, what is it ?" "I've lost my way and don't know where I am. Can you tell ?" "Yes. You,re sitting on that hoss." Mr. Lord laughed at the boys wit, and handed him the dime. The boy took the money, looked upon it with mingled feelings of wonder and delight, and sa'd : "I reckon you roust have a power of raon ey ?" "Why so?" "Cause you slather it away so." "What's your father's name ?" inquired Mr. Lord. "Bill Jenks." was the reply. "All, yes. 1 know him, exclaimed Mr. Lord. He grows wool, don't he ?" "No ; but his sheep duz." If you new me, my lad, you would be more respectable in your replies. I'm a friend of your father : my name >6 Lord. 1 0. yes," exclaimed the astonished and delighted lad. "I've beam pap read about you in tho Bible, ana starting for the house on a dead run, ho bawled out at the top of his lungs, Mother, mother, the Lord is out hcie a hutLiick,u d las lost bis way." TBR.MS: 81.00 XOEBZt. A.KTT.XTTJU: ? J Ft 3 PJJP > 1 J 11 Vjr There are certain things in this world which hare so uniformly turned out is the * same way, that nobody dreams of their re sulting in any other. In short they are set down as •' matters of course." For exam ple : W hen a bank suspends specie payments, it is always done for the public good, as a matter of course. If the said bank becomes irretrievably insolvent, and is forced to liquidate its af fairs, the directors publish a card stating that the assests are amply sufficient to pay every thing, as a matter of coarse. People who put any degree of eonfidcnoe in such statements are always deceived and disappointed, as a matter of course. When a man commits a murder, or a for gery, and is detected and tried, he is proved to be insane, as a matter cf course. When a fire occurs, whether it provea de structive of property or not, it is the work of an incendiary, as a matter of coujse. hen two locamotives come into collision on a railroad, destroying each other, knock ing half a dozen of cars to pieces, killing a dozen passengers, and wounding twice as many more, the public are promised full in formation concerning the same, as a matter of course. W hen such information comes, if at all it exculpates everybody from blame as a mat ter of course. W hen a quack medicine is invented, it is tremendously puffed, as a matter of courso. But everybody who believes one half that is stated of its wonderful virtues, geta egre giously humbugged, as a matter of course- Every man of intelligence and common sense is a subscriber to a newspaper, and, if he is honest, he pays his subscription, as a matter of course. Mouthful Memories. It is something inexpressibly delicious to remember the locality ot childish and youth ful years. Old trees and rocks,and old houses and old faces, all form the most delightful subjects of memory. It is curious to notice how we misjudge the size of objects in thus looking far back to them from the present point of time. Houses that were small seem to have been very large. Apple trees are oaks in memory, and the hill that surround ed a valley in which childhood grew to youth 1 seem Alpine in the retrospect. The column® of an old verandah which a child's tiny arms could not reach half way around, seem to the man's memory as gigantic as the colums of a temple ; for memories like these never take into account the growth of the limbs as the boy matures, and he is astonished when he goes back and finds that now his brawny arms will easy embrace the pillars, aud if need be, / ear them down. The stream that was a river to the tiny feet of the young girl is but a brooklet after .11, when she goes back to it, a full grown woman. The villago milldara is a Niagara in memory. Such ar® the illusions of home reflections. But not such are the voices of the pac,. Sounds re main familiar. The songs of the old hum® are never forgotten. The whistling quail down in the cornfield has not changed hi® voice The gate that creaked on ita hinges has the same old sound as it comes back '* through the silent years. The wind in th® tree-top soughs and sighs, and sobs as then. I hose sounds are not apt to be forgotten. ■ ——.. JHEDKAR HARK IKS.— The army corres pondent of the N. Y. Tribune , writing about t e distinguished services of'Suaoked Yan kees in guarding trains and prisoners, end such like light and pleasant duty, says ; "We have seen them on picket, their hands clasped upon their muskets, looking out with a watchful eye into the woods and field which might conceal a lurking enemy We have seen them upon the march in close ranks, with elastic and willing steps, instrohg contrast with tne loose, careless, ahuffliug gait of our chosen veterans," The saying of a White Mountain stage driver to a New Yorker sittiDg by him. "I B 'P° se if I went to New York I should gawk around just as you folka do here"— - was not bad. £3T When you see a gentleman at mid uight on the step in th® front of his hous® combing his hair with the door-scraper, you may judge he has been out to au evening party. JEST It is a sad thing when men have neither heart edough to speak well nor judg* ment enough t> hold their tongues ; this is the foundation of all impertinence. " These are the sweets of matrimony," at the man said when his wife threw tbo sugar bowl at bis head. C2C" Every roilroad has a smoking car. It might save the feelings of ladies and gentlemen if every one had also a swearing car. AN OPINION ABOUT GRANT.—Th® JVeis Nation, the F emoirt organ, says : "Grant is the complelest aud dearest failure of all th® blunders mtdo by the A^lnioUt^ition. ,, - j.' ■*' . V ?r* ■ ' YOL. 3, NO. 48 MATTERS or COURSE.
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