o __.4.., By W. Blair.] " VOL. IL egLECT. POETRY, ........ Eau ani. 'Tis sweet to look back° sometimes, To the bright and cheerful hours, Of young life's joyous morning, Amid its genial flowers. When sunny curia were clustered, O'er faces fresh and fair, Anil every twilight left us Unburdened with a care. 'Tis sweet to look back, sometimes, And muse o'er all the names OF those whose merry voices 3 Were heard in school-day games, . • The rosy cheeks and laughing eyes, Sweet feces all aglow. • The_friends who shared our pleasures then Are widely scattered now. Ms sweet to look back, sometimes, To moments long gone by," And think of those who loved us, Perchance who silent lie, Where rose the pink nrputus, And tinted pansies bloom, While soft the spirit whispers Hope sleepeth in the tomb. CHILDREN ITV RIVEN' Jr" the broad &las of heaven, In the immortal bowers, Dwelling by life's clear river, Amid the undying flowers— AWads of beauteous spirits, Fair children,of the earth, ed in bright bands celestial, Sing)of their human birlh. They sing of earth and heaven— /lXvinest voices raise, , thanks and praises unto Him The golden haired, the_blue,eyed, That lighted up opr life, And folded were, within our hearts, From all_the world's rude strife; The blessings of our bosoms, The stars upon our sky, The flowers up•springing in our path, Too beautiful to die: They are all there in Heaven, Safe, safe, and sweetly blessed; No cloud of sin can shadow Their bright and holy rest. S - E-LECT° MISCELLANY. No Poverty There! Millions of good men have left the earth poor. Lazarus ; the moment he died, wag n beggar at the gate, bnt in a moment af ter his death, his-estate had grown so last that the haughty worldling, still surviving in all his affluence, in comparison with • him was a penniless pauper. Oh, poor believer; rrjoice in prospect of your grand inheritance ! It is incorruptible undefiled and fadeth not away. It is really immense, inestimable, unspeakable. Ha s it, not been your endeavor to "lay up for your selves treasures in heaven?" Why not of tener think of results there? Fear not.-- = There'is good news from that far•colinfry. - Unsuenerisiaai'you may have seemed on Barth, your heavenly schemes have all prospered. I'he treasury of, Cod flows with your wealth. And it is safe— perfectly safe. Neither moth nor rust car rums it; nor can thieves Brea steal it. MOreover, it shall increase— forever increase. As long as you live on earth you may add to the principal, and its interest will multiply beyond all compu'a lion, to all eternity., .Crcestis was rich. Solomon was rich, Loon Hos was rich, the Rothschilds are rich; but the humblest heir of God is richer far than all. It may be that the stores you have already accumu lated in heaven would buy this town, buy the ttistrict, buy the country., buy the world --and still be comparatively untouched.— . .Play. think not this - extravagant!. would not barter the -heritage of the most desti tute of Christians for the whole globe and all its improvements Lift up yang. heart; —let-it-e-sparmt-and-o-verfl iss A the close of the short journey through time you will see eternity open - befiire you, all radiaiit with the variety of your boundless and endless possessions. Be not proud, indeed—alas for the folly of all pride ! but be grateful. thankful, hopeful and hap - • py.—Stockton'B. Sermons. Religion. • Whatever of excelte4ce is wrought in the soul itseil. belongs to both worlds. Real goodness does not attach itself to-the-pres ent lile; belongs to another world. Political and professior.al fame cannot last forever. but a conscience void ni of• fence before God and man, is an inheri tance for eternity. Religion, therefore, is a necessary and al most indispensable element in any human Character. There is no living without it. Religion is the, tie which connects man With his Creator and biirrdilitic) His throne. • If that tie — is sundered or broken, he floats away a_ worthless atom* in the uni verse, its _proper- attraction all gone, ite destiny - thwarted, and" its whole future no. thivg kut darkness, desolation and death. A man with no sense of religi.lue duty is he whom the Scriptures describe—in so terse but terrifc - manner—as living with out, God. in the world.' Such a man is nut of hh proper being—out of the circle of all his happiness, and away, 'far away from the purposes of shis . creation.—pan'l Webs ter. , • 'IFa• man •is odious an society. he might as well be in prison. The worst prisons are ntil ofstonevthey:are of,throbbing hearts outraged by an infamous life. ~.•' . ' , '` . - ,_,. .... . _ .___ 4 . - v . ~N ,. .: %,.. • . - - .. - . . .-:. . . .. .. , ."7 4 . . , ...N r a i , l . k. 4 , -•,-7--------"- , --------- , 44---..-':-.F.- ~ .- - , . , . .-", - .•:-."---- • f "': -"..-'''''''.-"-•"',-.",•‘:".:"-.:'-:•; i''''''.;...ty.tror'''' ''." -,-4 ;..';: , . . *,4 1 t" - --', '.. 7 ; Ji v , 4, .. ..-I. c . . At. , , A '' '-.. • ; "'; • ;; '—-•• ' : • : : 1 - :. - 11 ' O. r'f , ' . a' ''li Art . '..,1,7•1•,..! . .r _ • . . , .., ,‘ ; ....' , . • • ' .I , kry r . a .. .•. ~;"' lii ii. ,, , ! 7 -4,..*- --..... . -. . . ' • .. ,„ , t • • ! r',.. i ,i. (' : WAYNESBORO.' - ' 4 2; +. 4 , ~.• I 2 . ' I , • ' . . . • ,' ' . ''-1 ;; A . /2 ' 4 11 k 4 . 2 ; 4.‘" , J '; s f t ; l', AL . ° ' • t 4-41 1 12 4 ' . . ' ' V . • i '' ,l";kN: A', ‘ ‘ l. U ' '' .- 3 :. Ati .. • 7., •- ..-- - • ~.:„....,.. •. ~_.; , . . .. . , .7. .. . . • , , ~..,...4415:;,,,,5,.._..; , • ~,,...; . , , ... . . . , , ; , . . • , ; . .; . . . The Sabbath, The Sabbath - comes. How perfect and how grateful ia t its silerial Dumb is labor anti hushed all tumult and care. Even the great marts of trade are. deseria; and cit ies - rest.. The very birds sing a new song a —and certain delicious soothing grdets you at you s r waking and murmurs to you gratefully: "This is the day the. Lord-has made." Dull and dead must he be be yond the dullness and deadness of - the mere sluggard, who does not feel some awaken ing of the better man within him at the hallowed advent of the Sabbath morning. ;co consecrate and complete the home, there must be religion in it; and. as the world and life are. Sunda} must be looked to mainly for the giving of that consecra tion andcompleteness, In itself elle home is a sacred place: Its founder is God. Its gifts, its possibilities are his. The things sacred to the soul and life are of it. Jt is the place of birth, of growth, of death—and these three great mysteries, these processes in our being, sanctify it unto us. Distinctively religious then should be the home made by us, and every lather and mother be known as the priest and priestess (tithe domestic altar. The old Levitical law should be revived among us, and every man "sanctify his house to be holy unto the Lord." • The religion of home should be broad and genial as religion in itself is, not con fined to seasons and to tasks, not to cate. chisms and articles of faith, not, to set acts and forms, not to the Bible votjon, hut liberal and complete of Itiine-al touching every positto ation, ct--joys; as well as sorrows—tieleast,the common, as welt as the greatest and the exce;itional. It should have all the reverence of the first commandment, and all "the scope of the second--and this secured by word, by preeep --- ._not by _causing to know, and do, bpt by leading the way In knowing and doing.— The thing most to be apprehended,most to guar d rgainst, is disgusting the •members of the tome with the subject of religion— a thing many well-meaning homes have done. "Look Forward not Back." It seems to me (says a writer) that all times are alike adapted fir happiness, and if we grow old as one should grow-old, the last days of life must beae happiest of all. Every Stage 01 life is but the• preparation for the next one. It -is the treasure house -in which are collected all the' pieasures that are to make the -future time happy.— The chill has indeed but lew troubles, but they are to him as larger ones prove to his parents. I asked a friend once, speak ing of the happy cloudless days 01 hiS childhood. if fie would like to be . always a child. Ile stopped for a rnoment,and then said "No." I think he was right. There is progress • in everything—in our means of happiness, and in our capacity for enjoy ment.• Then let-us look back upon the time-wrinkled face of the past only with feelings of regret. Give me the present, glowing and full of life, and the future glor laiis With its brr k ht visions. I would rath er look forward than back; rather spend the golden hours in working our present happiness, than in vain regrets for the past. It is but the helm with which to steer our on Ward course._lt_is_the_steep-and rugged mountain up which lies our way. 'lt is not genus nor forttune that paves the _way,: to eminence. but earnest, self control, and: wicdom. These are in our hands; - ret -- a.r use them, and when, at the sunset of lile. we turn to look back on our path, and see it stretched far down before us peacefully, happily, we may lay ourselves down to rest. A Friendly Voice from the 'Green Isle.' The Dublin Iristimaii comments on the settlement of the Trent affair, as' follows: A man whose sword arm is disabled. and resting in a sling,would be nettoonrett guil ty of suicide were he to accept a challenge from an antagonist, for whom even with the-fall-use-of-a-11 his members—he—would scarcely be a match. England foupd A merica precisely in this condition, and, with a cowardice for which it would be difficult to produce a parallel, challenged her to combat, which. for the credit of hu• manity, we are rejoiced that she had the courage to decline. Before that arm'had got disabled—aye, within thelast four years—England. at the demand til,Anterica, relinquished her pos session of one of the main routes of the world's commerce; antL...‘e may now con- . gratulate the 6.mistress of the seas" in hav ing obtained in. exchange a couple of gen tleman, who according t o the London Times axe of nyi more account than a coo. pie of negroesi— We say to America. preserve your coun try tram the shame of Europi , an interfer ence. 'lf you do not mean that the for eigner shall water his horses in the Poto mac. and the halls of your Capital be con verted into the assembly rooms of some provincial 'parliament. save - your'couniry and save it speedily." \ IIIREVOCAULE Acrs.—Yonder lives one whn has gone to the silent'shores. he real flp.s now that his acts are irrevocable-The feels what before he had fancied, that time cannot' alter them. Reside the bier there stands a weeping friend; and too late he finds that tears cannot (Tect'llis acts, that repentance caunot amend 'them; too late he finds that everv,act of harshness, evEry tinter word, - every\sarcastie -expiession; lives forever; ton late he duds that unseen' wings have btivn e. his deeds beyond the flight of hive; and that he ear( never recall them to his embrace again. A rainily Newspaper Neutral in Politicp and Religion: WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN MINTY PENNI, PRIM FEBRUARY-28, A ehort time ago one of our citizens who loves his joke as well as folks geneially do. had occasion to visit one of the small towns in the - -inTeriti - r of — titer State — aad knowing he would have considerable walk ing over muddy roads, he took with himpa pair of large rubber boots. He arrived at his destination about nine o'clock in the evening, and upon inquiry he found that the only tavern in the place was half a mile from the station, NO ,conveyance was to be had and the road was muddy in the extreme. Congratulating hithself on having his long boots, he set off and found the mud in same plaCes so deep that_ his bows were barely long enough. Ile reach ed the hotel at last. to rather soiled a bout the feet. After supper he inquired the charge of lodgings. “We usually charge," said the landlord, who also had some_fun in his composition, "twenty-five cents; but if a man goes to bed with such boots as them on. (pointing to the customer's feet,) we charge - him fif ty cents. "A very good idea I should think," re turned the traveler. After halt an hour's conversation, the landlord showed him to his room, and they parted for the night. mutually pleased with each other. The next'morning our friend arose late, and inquired for the landlord, learnet) that he bad gone from. home to attend to some business. After breakfast he handed a dollar to the landlord's wife. saying : "There Ia fifty cents for my supper and ,toreakfast and fifty cents for my lodging." `."Twenty-five cents is all we charge for h tiging,'' said the landlady. retur.ned the stranger. "under ordinary circumstances;, but itt: this case fifty cents is not too ' was in conjecture as to what could be the circumstances wich required a man to pay double price for lodging. %V ben her hue band returned. he asked 44 las that man who slept in the front ro awe down yet?" 44 es,"an4wered his wife. "and - has gone away. He i paid fifty dents for his lodging, and said, under the circumstances it was right." The landlord rushed up stairs. His wife followed, to learn the meaning of such strange proceedings, and found her husband wittrrhe bed clothes turned down and her best bed looking noire fit to plant potatoes in than it did for a butuVrt 'being to sleep in. V "You saw that man when he arrived here last night ?" ••Yes." "You saw his boots, didn't pouf" "es." '.Well," said the landlord, "the scamp slept in 'em " A few day-a-after the traveler,-on his re turn home. put up at the •same tavern.— Neither himself or the landlord said any-_ thing about. the boots, which were in 'the same condition as on the previous occa sion; but the landlady looked daggers at him, and eyed his boots with anxiety. About ten o'clock, he said he would retire. "And, by the , way, landlord," said he, with a merry twinkling in his eye, •what_' do you usually charge for lodging ?" "We charge." a tisweredi"-the_land lord; with tremendous emphasis, "twenty-five centil" There is no little of repining nn the part of many worthy people, which must be at tributed chiefly to a habit of forgetting some well known truths. It would be good for all to remember that in the long run,- 1 the things which now fret and annoy will all be seen to be parts of a plan-el infinite j benevolence. The evils we lament will be turned into agencies fi r good, and the sorrows we experience will eventuate in futur*joys: The lite is sweetest variclt is passed !n extracting honey even . from the bitterest adversities; and he is the wisest inan_st_ho,can_tnost_heartily_confidejnAhe_, rectitude of Providence. and in the final supremacy of truth anti right. In the long run, that the Christian will come not well, who works cheerfully, hopefully. heartily,', without %vesting his energies upon vain regrets and passionate murmurings. The bird sings in the storm;'why % may not the child of-trod rejoice Id°, even though pass- ing clouds- lower?' SWEET OLD AGE.—God sometimes gives to man a guiltless and holy second child hood. in which the soul becomes childlike, not childish, and the faculties. in full fruit and ripeness. are mellow, without sign of decay. This is 'that sought for land 6f Beulah, where they who manfully the Christian. way abide awhile, to show the world a perfect manhood. Life with''its battles and its sorrowsdies lar behnathem; the soul his throown off its armour. 'and sits in an evening undress of calm in holy leisure. Thircc blessed the family or neighborhood that numbers among ir\ one of those not yet ascended saints I Gentle are they arid tolerant, and apt to play with little children; and easy to be pleased with little pleasure. , A. Croon Lire —A life well spent,a char aeter uprightly sustained, is no slight lega cy to leave to. one's children., and to the world, for it is the most eloriirent lessah of virtue, sad the severest reproaf id : vire, while it continues an enduriog sanrce the best kind of riches. 1% ell tor those who can say as Pape dirt, in .rei-rinder to the Samurai of fiord flecrriey; ••l think . it enough that 'my , parents.such a 6 160 .were, never* rfoit me a blush; arid their•soo, such as he is, nevereoiritieni a telY." Lodgings for Boots. In the long Run. WHIT WE'RE FLUTING FOR. When rebel gunii of A pair of breech I thought 'twos time _ All trimmed with army braid. And so I parted from my wife, And on her lips I sealed A kiss, and said, now go . to GRASS While I go take the FIELD. I feel ,contented ; and my heart , With martial ardor•glows, • So here's farewell to home and FRIENDS, To fight my country's FOES. Way down' on old- Virginny's soil, On Potomac's tranquil shore, Instßad of my poor baby's ca 111 bear the cannon enact. No more I'll PUFF my prime cigar, And listen to his prattle For me,'lnstead, the din of ,war, For me the SMOKE of battle. I'll to show the rebel states The depth of their delusion— The next to HEALTH there's nothing like A Bond old CONSTITUTION. -ellow Francis P. Blair "Got Jessie," The Politicians tell a good story of 'a collision between Francis P. Blair, Senior,. (of the old Globe firm of Blair and Rives) and . Jessie Benton Fremont, wife of the ex General of the West, which shows how immensely caustic and impudent wom an's wit can be when the head which hold's the tongue is educated, and when the spirit is high enough . to dare to battle with ev erybody and egrerything. It may stand. upon record as one of the best shots ever laurelled by a woman's tongue. When Jessie came on to Washington, a few months ago, to endeavor to ferret out the hostility to her husband which .was evi dently working there, she' very naturally _well known tribe his chief o i rponents.— During one of:her interviews witb—Mont gomery Blair, Postmaster' Ge'heral, Francis P.; the father, was present. Jessie's tongue had been running at the, younger Blair with that looseness' and boldness which rightfully belongs to the daughter of old Thomas Benton, and the wife' of a man who come very near being President; and the old man after a time could not • stand it.any lorigkr. •.Mac ame," he said, drawing his figure to his 1 II height, and intending to wither the auoacions little woman by a flash of his bard, cold eye— ,, Madame allow me 1.)- ) sa y to y o u that, in my judgement, your proper place is at the head of your bus band's household in Fft. Louis, and this intermeddling with affairs of state, to say the least of it, is in very bad taste on your part ?" Then, to make the blow a 'final and crushing one, and show that Washing ton was the spot where the destinies of Generals as well. as Statestrien were to be finally decided, he added, "1 wish you to understand, Madame, that here in Wash ington is where we make men, and where we unmake them - !" • "Mr. Blair." , said Jessie, shrugging her shoulders alter a' manner that 'she learn• ed in France, and casting a wicked look out of the corner of her eyes at Monignm-. ery—q have seen some men of your ma. king, anti if that is the best you can do, advise you to quit the business !" Those who know the weszen and dried up appearance of Francis P. Blair himself, and the decidedly un-ornamental physique of his sons, may form some idea of the el feet of his paixhan, in the midst of the smoke from which .Jessie gathered her skirts and swept out of the room, I leaving the Blair family routed, horse, foot. and dragoons. Old Tom himself, the hero of ve hundred spicy tongue fights, may be prowl of the daughter he has left 'behind, if he has the privelege of looking out of his place of retirement. On the personal an.l political squabbles of the loud he once strode.over with so proud a Consciousness of Tersonal dignity . FATHER AND MOTHER --Some writer embalme•these two holy names in the fol- owing beautiful thong "Sweeter praise can never he than that ail dying parent, as he blesses the hand that led,him from sorrow, and is even now soothing the cold brow, damp with the spray.ol Jordon., And dear the thoughts as your tears fell upon the sod that covers the gray headed fattier that you were' very kind and loving in hin►; and; 'you gave cheerfully of your abundance. and never caused him to feel that y ou were doing charity. Never can wP, • gepay those min istering angels we call — fattier and mother. Ange's. though earthly, they have ever been, from the time that , Adam and Eve gazed upon their first " born, as he s'ept a mid roses. while the•iiliy fingers, the wax en lids and the cherub form were all mys terious .to the-m. AN Acilonsi wtrtt Gun.—The' oihei day we saw a gentleman stop :and give a poor Woman, a kind word. and money suf ficienkto purcitase a pair of shoes to protect her feet. We saw the, same man on the cars about two week's' ago. 'and' hi 4 not met him since till last week. ` Abo - ut two 5 ears since we were • 'th'e nonfood, there was alio on board,a poor woman with not money enringh to paV heV fire. - The con.; doctor was about to_ put her off a t e: cars between the stations. when.the the gentle• man alluded to orde-ed the conductor to desist, ilviireci the amount she wanted', net,' !laid th:e yiomanls.jare. Slm tried to thank him but he begifir 411..-"froi to think of it, for said he. 4.1 charge all such ac; counts ivitii,(l•.d. ....He and I have a long running •peenunt.". Hope brightens up the darkest hour. 862. -Toasts and Sentiments: May-the polar - star of hope guide us through the sea of misfortune. May- the jewel of sincerity enlighten every breast. ' May the blossom of hope never be bligh ted. • May the tongues of our friends be the index of their hearts. May the spark of love but brighten into the flame. May Hymen never join those hinds whose hearts are divided: May virtue increase her exports'and im ports, and may vice become a bankrupt. May wisdom be the umpire, when plea sure gives the prize. .May we be ignorant of the arts of dig-. sunclation. May our vices never rise up against us in their native deformity. May e never endure the pangs of guilt or the vexation of calamnity. May disappointment never reach us when we stand in need of support. Miy our minds have no burthen, and, futurity no terrors. May no worse day we have to see, be equalled by the best we have ever seen. May'Ore bueof affection be ripened by the sun-shine of sincerity. Max we never have a fox too cunning nor a Pitt too deep. May those who seek to injure the op pressed be rather confused with shamethtffi punished with revenge. ( May we never, by overleaping the ' "odds of prudence tresspass -on the boson) of liiendship. May strife and discord be banished !tom seciety,_and true froodship be ,made per , petnal president. May the laws of humanity.. be put in force against the perpetrators of cruelty. 1176 _ „,t , e nor rime. May the moments of mirth be regulated by the dial pi reason. Peace within our gates, plenty within ,hur dwellings, truth in our statesmen, pie, ty in our pastors, patriotism in our presi• dents, virtue in our senators, and industry to the people, to the end of the World. Are the Planets Inhabited? Are the' planets inhabited? The tele scope cannot Shim the inhabitants of the moon to the people of Lori - ]t on far the .same reason that it cannot show them the . , inhabitants of Edinburg; their eyes are not made to see so far.- Mars, the planet near est the earth, is 50,000,000 of miles away from it, and the 'telescope can bring it near; and place it within a distance of 90,000 miles. Herr Madler, of Berlin, has seep ,fe ik the mo e tains, continents and polar snows of M cs with the periodical play of light anteshade.upon them. The sun is a vast and fierce furnace. The valleys of the moon are colder than our polar regions ; the comets are floating masses of vapor; and the planetoid or asteroid are so small that our telescopes fail to show us any thing certair.'about them. The sun, moon, comets and asteroids, we may conclude, the l..' n are not inhabited by living organ isms: But the planets with alternations of day and night, of heat and cold, their atmosphere, .the different weights or bodies upon their surfaces, a numerous series of striking analogies with the earth, seem proved to be_the_abode_of—different—forms-, of life. The,,organizatmns of life vary to suit a great variety of physical circumstan ces upon the globe, and with a reasonable allowance for modifications, there appears to be a moral certainty that they possess, and exhibit vegetable and animal, as well mineral products.' On Monday last, in Schoykili county., Pa a frame dwelling occupied by a miner named 'Thomas Connell, was destroyed by fire. and horrible to relate, himself, wife, four childreri, a male boarder and a sirtivarit girl, eight persons, pt rished in the flames. The bodies were so horribly burned that a small bed quilt covered all that remained of eight persons. In - E - Fmr - TRE - Scu - a-rmrEsT - - - -Ta - ke-fresh-, slacked lime, and duet the affected parts well with it twice a day. It will not cause the horse any uneasiness, and will be sure to effect'a cure in a - few days. 111==1 if 'you want to gain any man's good o• pinion, take particular care how you be have ,the first time you are in company with him.. The. light 5011 .appear in,at first, to one wito is neither inOinsidpklA think well or ill of you, will stsongly:pre judice.hitrk either for or agaknat you , > Don't let your children ;learn'grtod and bad things indiscriminately. To be . sure the bad might be eradicated in' after years, built is easier to. Sow clean seed thin to cleanse dirty wheat. Poverty is it less evil 'than dishonor; and a peaceful irtmecience is chiefly - . pur : chased with. the- Joss of every worldly , ad vantage. Men are ofte.i rattled by the 'Weiiht ' of theirgreatnessc as • if tree: : hea'viiji• with fruit, torakatek.owir'bintglis. •' Books are embalmed- irtinds.• Faille is a Hower upon a dead man's•heart. ( . 3hildren,always •turn ~te w ard th e light. 0 that, grown up people in this would be come like liPle,ellilitrent• „ , , Snyelylkail thu 4— w'nflir must-be Wind; they can sSinytliing..unless . it'glitters.. Theancienta:dria.ded. 4er•atb; the Champ tion can only tear -• • - To turn. brat's , mar wortitiess•sell to au heiress. - $1.50 Pezi Annum, in Achttinee 11111 M The Philadelphia ilielletiil leartie ficim excellent authority- that during the recent vistit of the Finance Committee of the Philadelphia Board of Trade, to Washing ton,ati informal visit was paid to President Lincoln, by whOin the committee was re ceived with all his well known affability and cordiality. Encouraged by the Pres ident's open manner, one of the members of the committee made bold to attack him directly upon the topic nearest his own heart, When'the 'following dialogue ensu- "Mr. President, I ivish you would tell me where the. Burnside expedition has gone." • ••Why. don't you know where .they have gone! I thought everybody knew that." “Well, sir, it May ap‘pear Very igno= rant in me,but I must confess 1 don't know, and that I would like to know exceeding . . •IYOu . really surprise rrie, sir. The pa pers have been full of it; eve rybody has been talking of it, and I did not suppose there was an) body wKo k ,did not know all about it. Of course I will tell you if you will-promise not to give Your authority.'” The gentleman promised solemnly. The with, his hand carefully interp — oWed between hitn - and,therest - of the company, whiz= pered, with mysterious emphasis, "The Burnside expedition has gone to sea!" A Niono's ACCOUNT OF THE WILDCAT RETREAT.-A gentleman whose.siave ac companied a young Confederate officer an the Wildcat expedition, asked the daikey on his retuin to Nashville, how long the army was on 'the march from its encamp. ment to the battle-field. 'About fouidaYs,' was the reply. "Well, how long were they in• marching back?" "About two days, massa.'' t‘W for, how is that Joe? Could they travel faster back when they were broken down with four days march and a n severe fight, than they traveled for ! ward, after a good rest in canip?" '.Oh I'll tell you what made the differ ence, macula,' .said old Joe; -tit — was the music. They marched toward Wil'aeat to the tune of Dixie. Whenmittek marched back, the tune was, , "Fire in the mountains —run, boys, run!" A :Gonp PACKER.- The Washington correspondent of the Bridgeport Standard writes : Our hotels are full.. An officer, on ask ing for his bill a few daYS ago, found that a quart of wine 'was cbarged, whert - he - had but a pint, He took exceptions to the items. Landlord was incorrigible—said there never any mistake acour the . wine bills. Officer paid it an went to his room - to — pn - ck - figs carpet bag. Having' made purcLases his bag was too full, to get in an extra pair of boots. Landlord dent • foi-- eanie. Says the officer, ‘.l can't get thesi boots, sir, into this blained hag." Landlord—"lf you can't I'M sure I can't." Offider--o"Yes you can; for a man whii can put-a quart of wine in a pint boitile can put those boots in that bag." - - Landlind cancelled the Whole bill and returned the amount. SLIDELL'S DAUOILTER The girl stood on the steamer's deck 'While men in arms staid thick around, And from) Jacinto's threatening sides A score of cannon on her frowned. She bade them leave her father there— She - challenged - them - to -- do - berhurt— She madly 'laid her bosom bare, ' • And fearfully exposed her—shirt! 6, 1 dont miss my,chureli as much aeyou may suppose," said a lady to her minister, who cared on her during i►er ifiness';` , Gfor make Betty sit at the vvindOw as soon as the bells begin to chime, and she tells me. wj►o are going to church, and whether they have en adything . , The oldest fire-mina 'are thea - ima , of ardent young lady. We, may, add, in'a whisper, that they are frequently the most dangerous.. , The editor the - gifcieft:e Siiitineidoes not boast of the size of Wi3coniin'bibies, but says •• they are 'an •uneoutinaon,' surd eropd's, VVhy is lighting the gia . for, a lady like helping her'from a carriage?--Beeisee are asstst her to alight. A shopkeeper in' ica'Qrnraeadingi a pica . of ghods to ajladf, remarked: • - ••Madam. it wilt wear forever, and make Et. &raj, rate petOcoat afterwards. - Mori only, doirgera in, they U. S. ormy-7- Corn dodgers, • . • it • • A' yin roan butter k iteckedljt least pteasint of alt kind of butterflies. , Why is a cannot! jest fi redlike a i l i 4l Pe4.V•49 1 / 1 .• t the breech.:. What!" hi arAftervi'7. oitkir-o• "mpflltp, That p tteppMP on• j , ; 'fil l4 ; 7 4 :V .; AJ 1 1.'4:4 .}.At - NO. 50 Lincoln's Lasi. JOke. ..e ..ii. 4. .R. _J.~
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers