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.