ny VV.; VOLUME XVIII P"CO3EIT'Z'O.ALIA. [From The Lady's Friend. HEART-LONGINGS. BY CHARLES MUMFORD Gliding, gliding, foxiitly gliding Down life's ever deepening tide, In my shallop frail I'm riding, Riding at youth's" eventide. Sadly, sadly creep the shadows O'er the fast recedift shore; Mists are gathering on the meadows, Where I roamed in days of yore. Dreary, dreary are the mountains, D rettry—is4he-swelling-strea-trir---- Lonely are the heart's deep fountains, Scattered is life's fairest dream; F led are all the winning graces, flushedtly-wiuspere Loosed the clinging arms' embraces, Cold the lips that pressed my brow. All companionless sailing, Sail:rig with the rushir.g tide, None to cheer when strength is failing, -- Notre;when murmers rise, tlichide. Sorely, sorely I'm repenting Sins, to which I still am prone, As the current, unrelenting, Sweeps the on with hollow moan Eirekward,Fackvvara I've been turning, 'ruining with a tearful eye— • 0 that years of sore heart.burning MiLbt .re.are me back to 11 ! Once again to feel the beating Of the lost one's loving heart, Once to hear her tender greeting, --'Fake her hand in mine and start— Start anew, entwined together, Down the stream.we'd float, • Laughing at the stormy weather— God would_guide.suir_little-boat— But, alas! on this broad river • Backward never turns the tide— Onward, onward. onwarl ever, They who once embark must glide SMXJ3G.-A.N - Y. MY REVENGE. We met in the beginning of the action, I a d, my enemy, Richard Withers—he on fo t, I mounted. It matters not why I ha ted im,with the fiercest wrath ofmy nature. 'The cart knoweth not its own bitterness;' and tl e details, while most painful to me, wou dbe of trifling interest to you. Suffice it that our feud was not a political one.— For ten years we were the closest inmates that the same studies, the same tastes, and the same arms could make us. I was the elder of the twc,. and stronger physically; comparatively friendless as the world takes it, and had no near relatives. Young, Soli- tart' and visionary - as - we - were,, it is hard — to make you understand what we were to each - other. Up to thiS period of our estrange ment, working together, eating together, sleeping together, I can safely say that we had not a grid not a pleasure or' a vacation that we did not share with almost bo ish gle hear:edne s. But one single day ch ng ed all. We rose in the.morning dear fr'ends and lay down that night bitter foes. was a man of extremes; I either loved o hated with the strength of my heart. TL past was forgotton in the present. The ten years of kindness, of 'congeniality, of almost wo manly kindness, were erased as with a sponge. We looked each other in the face with an gry, searching eyes—said but few words (our rage was too deep to be demonstrative) and parted. Then in my solitude I dashed my clenched hand upon the Bible and „vowed —passionately:—l-tuarivaillten-yearsichard -1. h• s! I I sit twent ears thirt ,if you will but sooner or later• I swear I shall have my revenge! And this was the way we met. I wonder if he thought of that day when he laid his hand upon my bridlo rein 'nod oo 'el up a me wig. nye_a not have given me that look. lie was beau tiful as'a girl : indeed, the contrast of his fair, arihtocratic face wit i tse rega ar out line and red curving lips, to my own rough dark exterior, might have been partly the secret of my former attraction to the loveliness of an angle if it had been his would not have saved him from me then.--- There was a pistol in his hand, but before be had time to discharge it, I cut at -him with my sword, and as the line ssver t on dike. a gathering wave, I saw him stagger under the blow, throw up his arms and go down with the press. Bitterly as I hated him the glsast ly . face haunted me the long day through. You all remember how it was at Freder- -1-eicTiburg ow We CrOSSC enemy, were so disnstrottsly repulsed. it was a sad mistake brave heart. When night fel , a ay upon the field ening dead and wounded.. I was c - ompuratrvely - helpith. A — ball - had bhTCO - ed tycap of 'my right knee, and my shoal dermas laid open with sabre cut, The lat. ter bled profusely, but by dint of. knotting inthrodkurchiel tightly around it. I manag ed to staunch it io a measure. Form • knee I could do nothing. Consciousness did not forsake me, and the pain was intense; but from the moats and wails of the limn ,about, Me I judged that others had faredworse than 1....P00r fellows I there was many a moth er's darling 'suffering there. Many of my mmmades, is reac crous • uo • he did or he could re river nt and• fatal to man Mal WAYNESBRO', r FRAKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 27,1864. had never seen a night from home until they joined the'army„but children in years and constitution, who had been. used to have eve- Ty little ache and scratch compassioned - with n-alrosot extraVamant sympathythere crnslt. ed and - aying, huddled together—some they_had weakly crawled upon their hand and knees—and never a woman's voice to whisper gentle consolation. It was pitchy I . l)d — m - ist - R•lible rain was falling updn us, the very heavens weepiiog over o ur miseries. Then through the darkness and drizzling rain, through the groans and pray ers of the fallen men about me, I heard a fa miliar voice close to my side : 'Water ! water I water ! I am ding with thirst—if it be but a swallow—water ? For God's sake give me some water !' 1 recoiled with dismay. It was the voice of my enemy; the voice of Richard Withers. They Were once very dear to me, those mel low tones; once the pleasantest music I eared to hear. Do you think they so softened me now 1 You are mistaken • I am candid a• bout it. IVI-y-b hood-boiled% u---iny-vehis - a , h • powerless to withdraw from his netested?, -neighborhood. There was water in my.gan teen. I had filled it before the last ball came. By-stretchinghand - .1 - could - give him a drink, but I did not raise a finger. Ven geance was sweet. I smiled grimly to my-' self, and Said down in my seem! heart: 'Not a drop shall cross his lips though he perish. I shall have my reirenge. ±ik • Do you recoil with horror ? Listen how merciful God - was - to ma There was a poor little drummer !boy on the other side, a merry mainly - boy - of twelve or thirteen, the pet and plaything &he reg iment. There was something of thaGerrnan in him ; he had been with us from the first, - and was reckonedoneuf the best:drummers in the army. But we never march to the tap of Charleys drum again. Ho had got a ball in his lungs, nod the exposure and fa 'gue, together with the wound - had nw e him' light headed. Poor little child !he crept close to me in the darkness and laid his cheek on my breast. . 3lay be he thought it was his own pillow at home; may be he thought- it, poor darling, his mother's bosom. Uod on ly knOws what he thought, but with his hot arm about my neck, and his curly head press ed clotke_to_ruy wicked heart, even then swell ing with bitter hatred - of my enemy, he be gan to murmur in his delirium, , t a father who art i 0 Heaven.' I was a rough bearded man.. I had- been an orphan for many a Bong year ; ielt not too many or too long to forget the simple hearted prayer of my childhood—the dim ri•iion of that mother's face over which the . giaYs had grown for twenty changing sumnims. Some thing tender stirred within my hardened heart. • It was too dakk to see the little face, but the young lips went on brokenl : 'And forgive us our trespasses we for give those who trespass against It went through me like a knife—:harper than the satire cut, keener than the ball. God was merciful to me, and this young child was the channel of his mercy. Forgive us our trespasses •as we forgive those wife trespass against us. I had never understood the words before. If an angel had spoken it could ocarcely have been more of a revelation. Fur the first titue-the-thoug,h-t-that-I—m g}rt—lie mar tal wounded ; that death might be nearer than 1 dreamed, struck me with awe and horror. The text of a long forgotten sermon was ib 1.1)y ears ;° it is appointed for all ecu to die and after death the judgment. Worse and worse. What measures of nter cy cou • exseet, i tto same was meted that I had meted unto my enemy The 4 swelled into my eyes, and trickled - down cheeeks; the first I had shed since my hood. I felt subdued and strangely mot The rain was falling still, but the I . head upon my breast was gone. Ile c away silently in the darkness. His un scous - taission was fulfilled, he would no turn at my call. Then 1 lifted myself with great effo t. The old bitterness was crushed, but not .1 gether dead. 1 -4-Water—WaterV-moane4- - Itichard -- 1 ors in his agony. rdragged myselrbloser,io him. 1 ., = 'God be praised!' I sate with a s I le heart. 'Disk, old boy, eneav uo 1-4.. r.— God be praised! I aid wiling. and ale to help you. Drink and be ::icads ' I —1- i t-hati-beeng c rowing--liih ter—an d—l gh ter in the east and now it was' day. Day with in andAay without.trilte first graylg Zim mer of dawn we looked into each others ,• III • , . I I I :r canteen was at Richard's mouth and hedraok as only fevered eau drink. I watched him with moist eyes, leaning upon my elbow and forgetting the andaged shoulder he grasp ed me with both hands. . Blood stained and pallid as it, was, his face was ingenious and trautif ul as a child's. 'Now let me speak,' h said putting. 'You „have misjudged me, Ru us. It was all a mis- Val;e: I fouid it out afte Svc parted. I meant to have spoken this mor ing when I grasp. ed your rein, but—b t—' Ills generosity spare: The woutad my hand 1 '. ;• . ••- .• , sion of the blow it mu Was venvnee so sweet! thing warm trickling The daylight had go ' 'Forgive me, Dick,' about for him with m blind-=then I was co bled- down an abyss blank. • "rhe.crisis is past a strange voice. 'Thank od : than ono. . - I opened my. eyes. odd ever 'thin• was. In ,, r own a long na m • ; , t Family 1NT 4 , 6117 ta 1 ") /1 . 416 era Neutral in. rocoliticis Ins the rest I ad inflicted was yet t-4.4-4-Ite-blind-ptie rt have been mortal, after all?_l_felt so le, ont my shoulder.— again--, , how dark it murraered. groping bands. Then I was as ioe. rr then Daw ned .everything : was lie will recover,' said God!' cried a familiar .Where ,a►u I? How IA y 1 6 1 1 : 11-011 row hall, bright with sutishine, and women wearing white caps peouliar,dresses flitting to and fro with nois seiess activity, which in my fearful weaknes it tired me to watch. My hand lay . outside the covers; it was as shadowy as a Skele._ ton's. What had become of my flesh? Was I a child or a man? A body or a spirit? I Was done with material things altogether_and had been subjected - to some refining process ... , . .. :. , - airened-to-trnew-extstene 4. But did they have beds in the other world ? I was looking lazily at the opposite one, when ome one took my' hand. A face was bend ng over. I looked up with a beating heart. The golden sunshine was on it—on the fair, I , . egular features, and the lips and kindly lue eyes. , 'Dick!' I gasped, 'where have you been all these years?' 'Weeks, you mean,' said Richard, with the old smile. 'But never mind now. You are better dear Rufus—you will live—we shall be happy together again.' It was more a woman's voice than a man's, .ut_Diek-hed-a-tender-heart. 'Where am I?' I asked still hazy. .What's the matter with ma?' 'Hospital, in the first place,' said Richard. 'Typhus, in the-second:Y-ou-were - ta - keira - tor that night at Fredricksburg ' It broke upon me at Once. I remembered that awful night—l could never, never for get it again, Weak as a child, I covered my face and burst into tears. Richard was on his knees by my side at once 'I-was-a-brute-to-recallhe-whispered temorsefully; 'do not think of it, old boy,--- 1 you -must not excite yourself. It is all for gotten and forgiven.' , 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespasi against us?' . I prayed from my inmost heart. Those words have been in your mouth day and night, ever since you were laken,' said my friend, " . I — lay . - 'Tell me one thing,'l aslied.''are we in the North or South?' 'North—in Philadelphia.', 'Then you are a prisoner,' I said mourn fully; recalling his principles. 'Not a bit of it.' What do you mean?' Richard laughed. have seen the errors of my ways. I have taken the oath of allegience. When you arc strong enough again we shall fight side by side.' 'And the wound in your head?' I asked with emotion, looking up at his bright, hand some face. 'Don't mention it; it healed long ago.' 'And the little drummer?' Richard bowed his head upon my hand. 'He wasiound dead upon the field. Hea ven bless him ! • .They said ho died praying With his mother's name upoli his lips' 'Revere him as an angel !' I whispered, grasping him by the hand. 'But for his dy ing prayer we had yet been enemies!' Beautiful' Extract. Go out beneath the archedheavens in night's profound gloom, and say, if you can "There is no God !" Pronounce that dread blasphemy, and each star above will reprove you for unbroken, darkness of intellect—eve, ry voice that floats upon the night wind will' be wail your utter hopelessness and despair. Is there no God ?—Who, then, unrolled that blue scroll, and threw upon its frontispeice the legible gleamings of honiortality.--f• Who fashioned this green earth—with its perpet ual rollinrz and its expanse of Islands and main ? Who settled° the foun • atm o .t e mountains ?—Who paved the heavens with clouds and attuned amid banners of storms the voice of thunder and unchained the light ning that linger, & lurk, and flash in their gloom? Who gave the eagle a safe eyrie, when the tempest dwelt and beat the strong est, and to the dove a tranquil abode in the Wrests that ever echo to the minstrel of her moan Who made thee oh man, with thy - perfect - elegance - of intellect and form? Whe made light pleasant to thee and darkness' a covering and a herald to the first flashes of -morning r=rWiro=gave=rhee—that—matchless sytnetry of sinews and limbs? , The regular flow: - blood Y. Ihr The regular flowing u ie irrepres sible and daring passion of, ambition and love ? Are yet the thunders of the earth chained ? Are there no floods that man is not swept under a deluge ? They remain, - but - the;boW: -- ef'recuuearatiorr — famg,s — ortt — a= bore and beneath them. And it were bet- ter t iat tie unit ess waters an, t e strong mountains wore convulsed and commingle oge er—t were leer a t .r a - were conflagrated by fire, or shrouded in e ternal gloom than one soul should be lost, while Mercy kneels and pleads for it beneath the alter of Intercession. Idaho Emigration. Nebraska City and the nnighborirg city of Omaha, is the oh ief starting point of emigrants rain; to the gold fields of Idaho It contains almost 4,000 inhabitants, and trade is said to be in a flourishing condition, with prices a bominably 'high and still.going higher every day. The emigration is immense,and th demand for teams and wagons very great.-- M-iles-are-weall4rem-$2,5-$350-por-fea cattle from $BO to $2OO. per yoko, wagons _ _ uch _ , .ithlcovers. _Cattle are considered preferable for emigrants, to either horsei or mules, because they du better on fuss, mace tie rip just as gate -, an. .are ore saleable in the mines fur beef atter re ,ruitiug iu the mountains. The season is very backward, and trains starting before helOth of Aray — will have - to teed their cut= : _i` • The,Ohie tanner says that coal ` oil has been found,, braccident,,to be a most effect ive means of protecting fruit trees against the ravages of the curculio, by placing ,saw , .-t-saturated - ,wit , i I ii u the tree. From tue Clinton Rept/Olken. SICK . CHILDREN I do not intend to write a "Tretltise on the _Diseases,of Infants and their Cure," at least not on the "ills that fieth is heir to:" nor do I propose informing anxious mammas how to prevent their darlings from catching the n3ea: ales, whooping•cough, or other ailments in. man life, denotninated infancy. Perhaps if I 'were further to enumerate the topics on which I do nokinteild to write, some saga cious individual might in time discover what I do intend to "hold forth on." Y But, to pre vent this trouble, I will brifly state that I here have reference to those young specimens of the "genus homo" known to many as "spil ed young 'uns," and to some of the many falsehoods told by devoted mammas to make them appear "sound" in the eyes of outsi ders. Some children are, almost from their birth, ever ready to indulge in fits of temper it eve ry-thing-do-es-not---axak.tly ' suit them - . -- Fr them the all-prevailing excuse is sickness.— Now for a really sick babel would gladly do any thing in my power, but for one having haps a alight col - ho can run about,, and eat, and sleep as usual; for , such a one to yell when you take him and yell when you do not take him, to scream when you teed him and scream when you do not feed him to fight when you touch him, and fight when on do not— in short, to yell, and. :crew ,-tard-fill=the - tithe except=wh-ett sleeping—for tfilt child j have one remedy, a goed dose of palm oil externally applied, or if his age warrant, an application of hickory Lark. At such times, when nearly distract. ed by the performance, it is a,apecial_torture, to have mamma observe sympathetically, "The poor child has a cold and feels sick; grown people are cross sometimes when they are sick, and how should he know any bet- LEIII Another. .favorite excuse is dentition.— This is made use of by some parents from the time a babe is three months old till it at tains its third year, and every time it shows its temper the darling is cutting teeth. I once knew sisters who had tour children, vs rying in age from three mouths to three years, and every ene of them was cutting teeth; and consequently they were all privile ged to scream, provided you withhold your album, new bonnet, or choice engraving from them; because as one would wisely_observe, "they had not judgement enough to know they must not have them, and . besides they were teething and felt cross." Now there may be good logic in this, but one fails to see that. because a child is cutting teeth and lacks judgement, you must *.eithr stir• render your treasured articles to his dirty fingers or keep them hidden from his ..view. -Suppose_a_farmer_were_to reason in this way about his colt—" This colt is young and has no judgement, and it will be some time yet before all his grinders come. I think he will be very well thus: he kicks and rears - and runs away now, but then ho has no judgement." How soon would his colt become steady? What is the matter here? Parents can all see the faults in their neighbors' children, but there are few who do not think their own Seraphina is perfect. Anil those who !mitt that che~~ cchildren havellaiflAom or never correct them, even for those which are so glaring that a "mole witlrhalf an eye" could see them. And the identical fault which passes unnoticed in their own child, horrifies them when committed by the child of ,a neighbor. It is related as a fact that a good-old-preaeher-was-ante-reatly-anuoye-' during meeting, by the rudeness of a young man present, who after tiring himself with his own folly, arose to leave die house. The good old gentleman looked after him a mo. moat, and then said, "Dear friends, that yonng man has been badly brought up." It was his own son, but his fading vision failed to recognize him. flow many could say the same could they see their children without, pareatal glasses. Many parents who thus act profess to. be Christettas; yet so fashionable have ''scrap (loan rg" _ h POMP, thaLall-such--seripture=aa_i "Train up a child'in the-way he should go," • • •try son hil~theie is — hope ; a©d spare not for his crying," "Withhold not correction from the child, for if thou }neatest 1 ,him with the rod he shall not die." All scripture such as this, I Say, is no longer re gard_e_d as_ilpto_fitable iur instruction." Sol. omon is altogether but of date, and if ehil d-ren-wish-to-serve theLDo-vit—these-Chris Clans intend to permit them to do so. LITTLE CHILDREN STAIIVING.-A COTlTS ponden speaking of , the suffering, of the poor in the counties of Spootsyltrania, Stet'. ford, and Carolina, sass: "I stopped near a village to.feed my horse and refresh myself, and here I discovered for the first time the state of the poor in the vicinity. Where my horse had eaten his corn from a blanket, sev eral grains lay scattered on the ground.— Three little half-clad children came-and ga thered them up and ate them. I was inter ested in one of them, a little girl, .and called her to me, and upon questioning .her she said-she-had : -not-eaten-a-piece-oFbread - -fe three days, their only food having been wild her father was killed in the first battle of Eredrii*liiblirg,_inel_there-was_nnw_nh_one_in the neighborhood to whom they could ap .l for hel I. .I .aro' them what I .had in eft t eui enjoying t thy haversac selves." . A little boy in Chicago was left recently to,"take careW tbe - bitby" niother nade-a-call—Failing to k.ee.p_it viet ''took a pillow, from the cradle, placed it over the child's head; and sat upon it. The moth= er returnei just in time- to sarc the infant s frt:m bcing;smotlkercd. 3 a rens 17Wine: Ans --lineause they rnot in the ground REBEL DISPATCH:I%Om HELL. . Gentle:readerjc_not startled .at the idea of news from the infernal regieas, tor there. is not one ward of : truth' in the dispatch: of which we 'propose to complain. The Rich mond 'Whig r a leading-Mho' organ, edema ces the, death of the Editor of this paper, and gives ,the detail, as regards our reception .in- Prince of Darkness. The - Whig state that the excessive cold' weather of January was caused by _our arrival below, our presence creating a- demand fur all the heat, and with drawing it from the earth I The Whig taus haveioceived its details from John B. Floyd and Wm. L. Yanley, resident reporters for the Rebel Associated Press, who went be low some time in advance .of the false rumor that we had gone down. —Both of these men, when on earth, heir us personally, and-th fore could not have mistaken us fur the reb- I cl Congressman who died about that time, although we -resemble others in several points r in or= - •ruth ;- Jit - r persona appearances ! The truth is, that these men had been so long accustomed to dispatching lies upon the rebel wires, while here on earth , that thoy_can't broak_off _ _ t sir o d habits, even in eel:R.l4lg back news from the fountain 'of falshoods. . Vie knew the Richmond Whig was in direct and con stant communisation with the Devil, and that it had 'been ever since it received the bribe that induce to go into this rebellion, but we bad noteF.Jected it to assert for a fact, - what - thousand- of clistinkuished Son - thorn men, who had gone there since they seceed,. ed from the Federal Government would know to be a lie, as soon as this editorial reached them, for thousands of them knew us person _ally_itt_this life. But the dispatch we are reviewing sets forth that the znyratles of departed Yankees put in Old Nick's furnaces during the last three years, have beco ence i ie extraordinary heat thus winter ! This, tale about myriades of Yankees having gone to hell in three years, may do to tell the deluded people of the South, who are not al lowed to read or see loyal papers, but all well informed men, North-and-South, know 'that there is no country of equal population and extent, on the face of God's green earth, that is as largely represented in hell, as is the so called Southern Confederacy ! They have gone from their army, from the ranks of the clergy, from the civil list and from among their politizians, at a feartul_rate ' test grape-vine from that great Confederate Depot is, that upon the recent arrival there of several distinguished leaders of the rebel lion, the Devil called hastily for ,more fuel, as the fire was about to be extinguished ! Floyd and Yancey are said to have come for ward and filled the "furnace" with Confed erate money- 7 where upon the Devil threat ened to kick-them-out-of hell. "He said he favored rebellion; he favored lying, and all sorts of swindling, but that he would not de grade himself and scandalize hell by reeog nizing,such a currency as that, as fit for any purpose ! But the Richmond Branch of Hell winds up this article by assuring the people of the South that his Satanic Majesty will'uottarm so able a coadjutor as we are ; and that turn ins! from .us, Old_NieLwilLorderrooms—for- Lincoln, Seward and Butler, with fresh beds of live coals ! This is the -rub. We have kept the furnaces ot,Secesh rather hot for comfort during the past three years. • We are fully compepsateu to know that - we have made the rebels feel the effects of our blows. Butler's masterly management of the she cl - 1 - 1? 13117 hr nevi — sfin ew Jeans has excited their an ger against him. Seward's superior diplo-, matie abilities, and his successful manage ment of England and France, the rebel lead ers never can forgive. But why the editor of the Richmond organ should be angry with Lincoln, we are at a loss to know: Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation liberates a half a dozen of that editor's children, whose sec , eral mothers are American ladies of African descent ! Lincoln should be looked upon by that edifor, and by thousands of other South ern parents, as a benefactor ! Ile is setting =their-mi xed=h loocied_offspring_atiiberty,_a_ thing they could not do, as they are slaves ' • ••„ ,ir-fatlehmond editor among the rest-are not able to pur , chase their freedom W. G. BROWNI.O*, Editor of the Rebel Ventilator .a -- . vs - w — yet --- far - e. Irs. X , w-hd-rasides-in-our-senato rial district, had a neighbor, who, was repro- ing his home anything but a pleasant abode. She,, however, having 'heard that his' wife was a great deal of a vixen, thought the wife might also be to blame for th) unpleasant state of affairs in the household. So, full of charity and the doetrincs of the law of kind ness, Mrs. X visited her neighbor's house, with the benevolent intent of recon. oiling the differences erstiug there, and ad dressed the bettor half'sornething in this style :--•Mow, you know," said: she, "haw much pleasanter it would be if you and your husband would live together without guar- , wdhYg ; and, itisrelfd — of - bliitff - a., ceproa It — to the neighborhood, you might become honor ', ; she continued', "yotiare not altogether th-is=ynattec _yeta__try_arui see what the ritw of kindness practiced toward your husband will do, in effecting runnel!. laden It certain y can •o no arm, an. you may Succeed in touching the tender chords of his heart„ and ho may renew his old affection. Try sfie '' urged, "and'_if t succeed, you Wilriit—liatrEeTip .orr his-head," and so _ AU this i wtis.listened to, When .this reply was made : "I don't know about lour coats of fire ; va tried boiling hoe water, and it didn't • • ••• arpers ;o — nt y Always :Teak well ef you!. friendt.4. ial'i*O''reivrirepetr. Curious Paots.About Congrosarottli• A Washington 'leiter idritergiimOn'otti . en rious fitai sheer, the 'present enuirNitifin. • He says Mr: Masstiebtisetts, is Lite richest; worth two millietis; a 31r: Bildwitii of the same State , the r laygest . ; 04ty. , e,., tallest; Mr. (fox of Ohio; the M'CluAg'rof Massachusetts, the , shortest; Gen. Dupoint of Indiana the most pro ov tive, being the father of nineteen Mr. Stevens, of Pennsylvariid; thioldetit';sov enty•two years; General Garfield, of Ohio the, youngest, thirty-two years; Mr. Win dom, of Minnesota, the handsomest ;111r.Kel ley, of Pennsylvania, 'and Mr. V dorhes, Indiana, the best speakers; Mr. Cox, of •0- hio, and 'Mr. Washburne, of Illinois, tbe parlimentarians ; Mr. Cession lowa, and PFti d:eton, of Ohio the readiest debaters; Mr. Clay, of Kentucky, the largest fanner, fifty-, ing - 6;500 - aeres'ot land, 276 slaveooo-sh-e'ep-r— -and 150 blooded cattle; while Grutinell, of . lowa, has 6,000 acres of land, 6,000 sheep ; -M&-W-a-llace, of Id trtroTlives the - trtli - est from Washington, and draws 86,307 for mileage ; and Mr. Davis, of Maryland, the nearest, his mileage, being only $33 ; and Mr. Frank, er - New - Y - 04.76e best penman, and Mr. Stev ens, of Pennsylvania, the poorest. The House has twenty-five members with bald heal*, thirty with mustaches aurtiva with wigs. Rain And Cannon It is noticed that violent rain storms fol low battles. This has been "so during the present rebe ion, - and so it kas -- aeg in a lands n-all—t i es—To_the_soldiers_i t_ may be a very fortunate occurrence. 'To the wounded left on the field of battle noth. ing could be better. It affords relief to the intolerable thirst that fellows gunshot wounds and water is the best dressing that such wounds could' receive. It may be a benefit also to those not wounded, since it washes e.., -vherP azittle-reel. where putrefaction . might - otherwise take place and plagues result; and it also washes and purifies the air, bur dened with smoke and dust and the exhal ations from the dead. What is the cause of the rain ? :Phil- - osophers are not agrecd -- thouglf — many of late have coincided with Professor Epsy, who said that the rain was produced by-the shock of the atmosphere from the explosion of gunpowder, and he claims that showers may be had at any time from the same caus es. Possibly this may have something to do with it, but quite as likely it is the pro- C 039 by which Nature renovates herself when contaminated, whether by battles or from any other cause The ancients noticed the phenomena of rain after battles, when no gunpowder was' used. Thus Plutarch, in his life of Cahn Marius, noticed the same event after a battle 1,400 years before gun powder was known in Europe, and writes:— "Thus the opinion of Archilochus is con firmed, that fields are fattened with blood. It is observed, that extraordinary rains gen ' erally fall after great battles; whether it be that some deity chooses to wash and purify the earth with water abbvc, or whether the blood and corruption, by the moist and heavy vapor they emit, thicken the air, which hi liable to be altered by the smallest cause." - — A — YrOllll - d ell rg in ia retel an-d-a-wciurrd-e-d -' Pennsylvaniao, occupying adjoining bids, had a goodhumored verbal tilt, as follows: Union. say, reb,.where are you from. ' Seepsh. I'm from Virginia, the best State in America. Union. That's where old Floyd came frau Secesh. Where are you from, Yank? Union. I'm from Pennsylvania. • Secesh. Well, you needn't talk abdut old Floyd coming from Virginia as long as old Buchanan came from Pennsylvaaa. Don't you wish yuu hadn't said anything, Yankr An exchange Says : "Occasionally we en counter a man in oar business relations who grumbles at the prices of advertising and job work. He says the prices have advanced, and it ought not to be so, yet if we propose to buy any kind of dry goods or groceries. - of - him. - --a - calico - dress for our Wife, bleach4d— domestic for a shirt, or coffee and su:ar to sweeten it—or a. pail —, - orboota, . a barrel of corn, load of hay, cord of wood or pound of beef or pork, he does not sem* to charge us at least from 25 to -100 par coot advance on old prices ; forgetting the homely maxim that-" what-issa-uce-for-the—goose—ought—to— be sauce for the gander." Why is a tallow chSndlei the most vi- Ans.—Because all his works are wicked; and all his wicked works are brought to light. A mipister, putting his hand on a young urchin% shoulder; ezelaimed—"bly eon, believe the devil has got hold of you." "I believe so, too," was the reply . "One-third of the whole population •of Ireland, above five gears of age, cam.paither read nor write," and one fifth of the, whole, though able to read, cannot write Whiskey is i3O dear and =rap in the rebel Ice. that -4 tisinty and death to _drink it.' . Because every matt should have one of his not he borrowingliiineighbors. If yonth is a blunder, tiaaulsood . glee, old age is a regret. • . • Better of-herbs-whereleeerie thia'a stalled oi, and bared theiewitli Every actite of life is a step to life or a step tti tlettaltfiia: a, atep towardsleavinf.titt a 4 19:t"rf.dtAPIL , Albtbe 1111 ‘lcr: _ feWs:vrecatrike; shota to t . n purpose. .87.9ry nail driveu should be, se anothei. Tifton irithiluSehine of the universe.: NqBER 2.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers