333 r 2fair. VOLUME XVIII PC0311 1 1 11 ICLELL:, LINCOLN. Oh! martyr o crotrantry-acetus• Upholder of her outraged laws, A sorrowing nation weeps and draws Around thy bier. Not even in thy hour of might, When in that holiest cause—the right— Thy armies put their toes to Wert thou so dear. Nor when thy pen,with power unspoken, Proclaimed the bondtnen's shackles broken, And give thy signature, in token, A deathless fame. Wert thou as loved, as prized as now," , When death's - pale chaplet wreathes thy brow, And but remains the patriot's vow, Who breathes thy name. Oh! mothers, teach each infant's tongue The name of him whose race is run, Once Freedom's—now Fame's—favorite son, .Though in the tomb. Oh! banner of the azure field, Of silvered stars and shining shield. (;raped by thy folds, that never yield To show our gloom ECHOES. e 'angel stare are shining, ArttFT.45lW - vaWildiTir, ißut the angel -voice,is silent • That Ileard here long,ngo, Bark!. the echoes mariner low Sill! the.wood is dim and lonely, Still -the splashing fountainFrirday But the : past and all its beauty, • Whither has it lled.awayl Hark! the mournful echoesea.y Fled awayl 031,:11 the bird of night complaineth (Now indeed her song is pain) Visions of my happy hours, • Do I call and call in :v lin? Hark! the echoes cry again All in vain... Cease, oh echoes, mournful echoes! Once I loved your ,voices well; Now my heart is sick-and_weary„ Days of old, a long farewell! Hark! the echoes sad and dreary , Cry farewell, farewell! ~.~~ - • ~ THE THREE WISHES. The Eastern origin of this tale seems evi .dent; had it been ofgloally compos.el in a northern land it is.'liobable that the kin would ave been represented as dethroned by means of bribes obtained from his own treasury. In, an eastern county the story teller who invented such a just termination .of his narrative would, most likely, have ex perienced the fate intended for 'his hero, as a warning to others how they suggested such unreasonable ideas. Herr .Shithrock says it is a German tale, but it may have had its of in the. east for all that. Nothing is more difficult, indeed, than to trace a popu, lar talc to its source, Cinderella, for. exam pie, belongs to'nearly all nations; even among the Chinese, a people so different to all, Eu ropean nations, there is a popular story which reads almost exact) , like it: Here is the tale of The Three 'W ishes: There, was once a wise emperor who made .a law that to every stranger who Came to his court a fried fish should he ertied.• The ser vants were directed to take notice if, when the stranger had eaten the fish to the bone on one side, he turned it over and began on the other side. If he did, he was to be im- Mediately seized, and on the third day there after he was to be put to death. But, by a great stretch of imperial clemency, the cul prit was permitted to utter one wish each day, which the emperor pledged himself to grant, provided it was not to spare his .life 3.lauy had perished in consequence of this edict, ,when, one day, a count and his young son Jiesented themselves a t court. The fish ribs served as usual, and when the count had r 'moved all the fish from one side, he turtle , ' it over, and was about to commence on •th , et'aer, when he was suddenly seized and t roan into prison, and was told of his annt 0 thing doom. • Sor cm strieken, the count's young Son beso ght the emperor to allow him to die in the r "m of his father=a favor which the mon , rch was pleased to accord him. The con t was accordinely released from prison, and: his son was thrown into his cell in his welt .. As soon as thiS had`been done, the , 0 rg man said to his jailor: - • ' p You know I have the right to make three de .. rmulS before I die; go and tell the 'tamper or ~ o send me his daughter, and a, priest - to irro ry us. . 4; be first demand was not much to the em ', roes taste, nevertheless he felt bound to op his word, and he 'therefore .complied w th the request, to which the 'prinoess',had t-kind of objection.. This occurred in the ~ e s whoa kings kept their treasures io a ~ or ,in a tower set apart for the purpose, the Emperor of Morose° in. these days; , on the second - day of his imprisonMent ,(mug man demanded the . • king'strees ! lbe,first demand was a 'bold one, the 'od %was lotjeas 'so; ,still as emperor's word i ored, tied having made the promise he long ago! aL.PlitaceLll.3r IVemireilmearke* WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSTLYAN/A, FRIDAY MORNING, , MAY 19,1864. was fcireedlo keep if; and the treasures of gold and hilVer and jewels were placed at the prisoner's disposal. On gaining possession of them, he distributed them profusely a l . men the courtiers, and 'soon had 'a host of friends by his liberality, The emperor began now to feel exceeding ly uncomfortable. Unable to sleep, he rose early on the'third morning and went, with fear in his heart, to the prison to bear what the third• wish was to be, ow said he to the prisonetystell-me what your third demand is, that it may be granted at once, and you may be hung out of hand, for I am tiled of your demands." "Sire," answered the prisoner, "I have but one more favor to request of your majea ty, which, when you have granted I shall die content. It is merely that you - will cause the eyes of those who, saw my father turn the fish over to be put out." , "Very good," replied the emperor; "your demand is but natural, and springs from a good heart. Let the chamberlain be seized," he continued, turning to his guards.. "I; sir 7" cried the chamberlain; "I did not see anything—lt was the steward." "Let the steward be seized, then," said the emperor. But the steward protested, with tears in his eyes, that he had not seen anything of what had been reported, and said it was the butler. The butler declared that he had seen no• . thing of the matter, and that it must have been one of the valets. Batt they protested that they were utterly ignorant of what had been charged against the coart;_in_ah_ort it-turned out that nobody con se found who had seen the - count com mit the offense, upon which the princess said: ". appeal_to_ym , my fathar, as another_ Solomon. If nobody saw the offense • com mitted, the' count cannot be guilty, and. my husband is innocent." The emperor frowned, and forthwith the courtiers began to murmur; then he smiled, and immediately their visages became radi ant. "Let It be so," said his majesty, "let him live, though I have put many men to death Fora higher offense than This. But it he is not hung he is married. Justice has been done.". THE SOLDIER'S LEGACY TO MS COUNTRY BY WESLEY BRADSBAW Twenty five years ago, a bright little boy ,used to kneel every evening and morning be side his mother's knee, and, looking up into her face with leis gentle eyes, repeat after her the same sacred words that so long ago came from the Holy lips of our Master on Mount Olivet„ That mother was a widOw, that bright little boy was her only child, and they loved each other, oh, so well and tru ly I Clue quiet summer evening, the Mother lay on her bed very .pale and weak. Neighbors stood by, and while one softly fann.ecl her, another moistened her lips with water, while a third wiped from her brow strange-looking dLo_p_ that came again and ti ,, ain The little , boy wus as bright as usual, and did not know why the kind neighbors were crying, and why, as they glanced down at him and patted his head, they said to each oth er: "Ab, poor little fellow! To be an orphan so young." "Mamma," said he, raising himself on his toes to look at his mother, "I am so sleepy. May I say, 'Our' Father,' now, and go to bed ?" "Yes, my sweetest—" The voice was so week that the boy look ed inquiringly into his mother's face as it leaned back among the pillows that proped up the form so soon to mingle with the clods. But still, with his bright look, he clasped his ohubby bands as, usual, and repeated his "Our Father" so softly that the sick one told those aborit her, it was the sweetest music she would ever hear till she reached the great white throne. The boy never knew till years after that quiet evening, why the arms enfolding him clung round him so long—why they refused' to let him go to his little bed when he was so sleepy. But be never forgot, that, as his dear mother kissed him the last time, she said: "My precious, precious child, mamma is going sway fronLy.ou for a lung time. To morrow night and for many nights after that I will not be here, and you must say 'Our Father' by ;ourself. But always say it; don't miss ono single night, and when you come to lie on your bed, white like I am now and you must go away too, you will see me a,gaiti. I will come for you then, and we will go away together, never more to part,. my precious, never more, never m ), When the boy grew to be a man, he re membered distinctly that his mother did not say all of the 12st word; but, closing her eyes let fall her arms from about him, and sank back on the pillows, and he went to his lit tle bed and slept. But it was great comfort to the boy, when he grew to be a man, and had two little dar lings ot his.own, to think that his mother— whose memory, like a bright star that never set, always shown in his firmament—had told him_ she would come for him _some quiet summori evening. : This thought filled his mind continually, and he often would dream that the time hadat last come fur him to lie white ; on hished like she had once done and that she had.. come to fulfil her protn , Ise. Whenever he drearned this, dream, be .always awoke to find his hands clasped the same as in clays gone'by, and his lips invol untarily saying, as they slid then, "Our Fath er." A new phase came Over the maa's life: A great'cry went forth in the land that his country was it/ danger, Volunteers were wanted, men were wanted, not to talk and -re solve, but strip and fight, to take, the mus ket and handle it firmly and fiercely; men to bare, their , breasts to storms of iron; men ,to leave joyouslomes, march far away, die, and be hidden' foiever in a gory grave. The bright boy, now a strong man, quick- ly decided. The two little darlings, Mary and Arthur—Mary was his mothe'r's name, Arther his father's—were_very, very dear to his heart; but his country needed him, and c_beeanao a soldier. Before he went away, he bade Arthur kneel 'at Mary's knee, an. say "Our Father." "It reminds me of the long ago," he mur mered to himself. Gettysburg, with its carnarge-covered field, its glory, its heaps of dead, its piles of dying, its tons of broken cannon, its strewn musk ets and•accoutrements, its agony and desola tion, looked up at the setting sun.- Two wounded men who were brought in the next day, told how "uncommon happy" a comrade had died the evening before. Mortally woun ed, he had lain quietly' between them', until the shades of.night approched. Then sud denly he had raised himself, stretched out his hands to something in the air, smiled— as the soldiers averred—as sweetly as a child might smile, and said: • "Dear mother come at last!" "Then," they continued, "he got still fur ther forward, until he was on his knees, when he clasped his hands together, still more like a child, and said the prayer called 'Our Fa- j thei! He waited a minute, then, as though he were listening to somebody, who was talk. ing with . him, and then, just as if he was re peating the words after some othet voice he said: "Never more to part, never more, never In it purs_e_on_his_hody_w_crelonact_a_small sum of money and a scrap of paper, on which letter was written. "My darlings, Mary and Arthur,l leave you to my Country." Often now: when the sun makes very long shadows on the white head stones in the old Cemetery, a beautiful girl leads a bright lit tle boy, to one of the many grave mounds there, and the little boy, kneeling among the, grass and flowers, and clasping his hands like another had, long ago, repeats the pra'yer "Our Father." The beautiful girl is Mary, the bright little boy is Arther, the two ate THE SOLDIER'S LEGACY TO HIS COUNTRY. —4ldier's Casket. An Ingenious Boot Black. The street bootblacks are one of the "in stitutions" of New York, as well as of some other large cities. You see them on the sidewalks, in and around the hotels, and fro quently on the ferry boats. They carry a box containing their "k:t of implements," the brushes, blacking boxes, /be. This is sus pended by a strap over the shoulders, and when a customer nods assent to their gener ally polite invitation, "Black yer boots?" or "Shine up, sir?" they quickly set (lowa their box for your feet to rest 9a, drop upon their knees on the pavement, sad work as rapidly a.spossible, so as not to detain their patrons. They first turn up the pants, to keep them from—being soiled - , then with one brush they • • bonts, with another applying_ Nuking, and with two others, one in each hand, polish away. They return a "thank ye" for the half dime, or dime, given for their labor. These. boys are generally so polite and so industrious that we rather like them, and sometimes take a "shine up" just to see them work, and to chat with the smart little fellows. Here is a case illustrating their in genuity: A well-dressed man standing at a hotel door, not long since, was hailed by one of them with the usual question: "Shice up, sir?" "What do you charge for binding boots?" asked the man, who was somewhat noted, fox stinginess. "Five cents," was the reply. "Too much, too much; I'll give you three cents," said the man. "A•ll right," said the youngster, and at it he went with might and main, and very soon he had one boot shining like a mirror; but in stead of commencing on the other, he began to pack up his brushes. “You haven't finished !”, exclaimed the man. "NeV9r mind," replied the boot-black,with a twinkle of his eye, I won't charge you for anything I have done; there comes a custo mer who pays." - e - man - glatmed - at - the - shining - bootTtlre at the other, which was rusty, and besprink led with mud, thought of the rodiculous fig ure he would make with one 'polished boot, and amid the 'laughter of the bystanders.a.- greed to give the sharp boy ten cents to fin ish the job. which .he did in double quick time and with great pleasure. STORY or A MISER,— The Italie, of Turin says the following scene occurred a few days ago at a railway station: 'On a bitter cold day a millionaire appear ed at the tioket office for a third class ticket. 'What!' exclaimed the official, who knew him, 'you, sir, take a third-class such' a day as this?" Why, I must,' was the cool reply, 'since there is no fourth class.' I beg. your pardon,' answered the official, handing him a ticket, 'but there it—hero is one.' The 'man of wealth hastily paid for it, and rush. sad forward to take his place On the door keeper asking to see - bis ticket, the traireler produced it, but was rather taken aback on' being told that the ticket would not do for him. 'And why not?" he exclaimed. 'Why, air, because it is a dog ticket!' • 'An ea Irishman who• bad witnessed the effect of whiskey for many years past said a barrel labeled 'whiskey' contained a thousand songs and 'fifty fights besides an unknown number of drunks. A. contented mind gives pea,ce THE BRAND OF CAIN. Jefferson Davis is no longer. a mere politi cal fugitive. To the Con* 'catalogue of crimes he has committed through the 'Agency ofsuois subordinates as Turner' and 'Winder, Forrest, and Quantrell, Seemes and Beall, is, dded the indelible• stigma Which attaches to the instigation of the 'murder of President' Lin - - nolo. To the crimes Of -perjury and treason to the Goversatent to whichltn—Lid-sworn allegiance, is added.the darkest treachery to, ht - s yawn people and the robbery-ef-theii-prop erty. The leader of Secession and the head of the Confederacy stands convicted as a-com mon felon,. His complicity with all the dia bolical schemes which we have had to chron icle from time to time is revealed to the world. He has sanctioned and nomtnissioned agents of piracy, arson and butchery. He has sent secret employees to throw passen ger trains from, .railway tracks; incendiaries to burn Northern cities; pirates to destroy commerce, to fire merchant vessels and to slaughter their 'crews. He has Stein the money belonging to others, and deposited it abroad to his own credit. He has plotted of fences against society which have no paral lels in brutality and outlawry in the annals of' civilization. And now he is branded as one of the infernal cahnl whose intrigues, carried on for more than eight months, have resulted in the murder of Abraham Lincoln. President Johnson tells us that as appears from evidence in the Bureau of Military Jus tice, that atrocious murder, as wall as the at tempted assassination of the Secretary of State, was "incited, concerted and procured" by and_between Jefferson Davis and the oth er conspirators whom he names; and for whom he-severally - offers a reward. Instead, there fore, of being invested. with the romance of ex ile,_Jeff-Dav is-is-a-fiying-crimi n al i and-th e few fools and dupes remaining "so poor to do him reverence," are growing numerically less every day. A price is set upon his head and a reward is offered for his arrest in or der that he'may be brought to trial and pun ishment for the most infamous crimes. In stead of the chivalric gentleman, the high toned, magnanimous. heroio leader, the mod el of Christian virtue and elegant refinement, this jackdaw stands before the nations strip ped of •his peacock feathers, a runaway_ from justice, a fugitive ruined and stained with ineffaceable disgrace, charged with such fel ony and misdemeanor as we are only emu touted to find in culprits of the lowest grade, and finally officially declared to be a desper ate murderer, lie has lost the sympathy of those who admire, great qualities in defeat; he has forfeited the dignity which attends misfortune. -This violator of' law, human and divine, who has been so lauded and petted by Rebels here and abroad, and who is now a scoff and a by-word, cannot be treated as a political refugee. Be is an accessory before the fact to Mr. Lincoln's assassination, and as such any State in Christendom, to which he may resort for temporary shelter or asy lum, under pretence of being a political pris oner, is bound to give him up if he should escape. Political fugitives are • very proper ly safe from extradition, but a branded mur derer can be demanded by our authorities. We trust, however, that there will be no oc casion for such rendition. We trust that we shall receive news of his early capture.— Though in full flight, be is closely pursued, and the avenues of his escape are well guard ed. Every port this side of the Rio Grande, except Galveston, is in possession of the Gov ernment, and that is securely blockaded.— The only chance seems to lie in some impen etrable disguise, or in separating from bis es cort to travel alone. The pursuers will be stimulated to redoubled effort by the heavy reward offered for his capture, and we trust that their efforts may be crowned with spee dy success. The 'people demand not oaly that this eminent villain's arrogance shall be bumbled in the dust, but that he shall expi ate by an ignominious. death on• the gibbet his multitudinous crimes against his country sad against humanity,—American. He Knoweth His Own. The lilies which Jesus loves to gather in their early and delicate beauty, do not al ways grow in the carefully fenced and culti vated parts of his garden here. Often like the little wood blossom, it is from among the thorns, and out of the tangled thickets of briery and desolate places, that they are ta ken to be transplanted ip klis garden above. • Godly members of Godless families, are hidden in dark cellars, or bleak gArrets, from the eye of matqltthe ey_e_oLtheLl A ordis_upo. them that hope in His mercy, to,deliver their souls from death, and to keep tbem, alive in famine. The "incorruptible seed" of His own word, scattered, it may be, by a Sabbath school, teacher, in what seems very uncultured and uncared for soil, springs in Gods good timei often in seasons of loneliness and pain, the little sufferer turns for solace' to the simple Psalms and sweet Scripture verses, which, witlx a polyp', never known before, speak peace to the pining heart, and testify of Je sus the ever living—ever loving—ever pres ent Saviour. "And He who is the same yes terday, and to-day., and forever;" now, as in the days of His flesh. takes up young child ren into His arms and blesses them—and it: is manifest to all who stand by. how tender ly "He gathers the lambs in 'his arms, and carries them in His bosom," , _ and "is very gracious to them at the sound of 'their Ory: —Pariai/f/ Treasure. IMO= .In 1561. Philip i. sent the young.Consta ble' de Vasale to Rothe, to coilgrittulato Soz tus V. on his advancements. The Pope said, "Are there so few men in . Spain :hat your King sends me ono without a•beardr, said the fierce' Spaniard, "if his majesty pos sessld the least idea that you imagined mer it lay in the beard, ho would have deputed a pat io you, and not a gentleman r.." • Patience is a bitter :aced, but it yields a Meet fruit. Is Sett Davis to .be °nil:11016V Since the capture of RiChinond and Rase. quent, siirrender of Gen. Lee which natural= ly forshadows the ultimate pOssession-of,_the person, of Jefferson Davis, some of the, pub-, lio journals seem greatly exereiied over the final disposition to be ,madC of, hiin; The philanihropic advocate a general or in other , words to allow the rin'gleafiers . orthe rebellion, to go scot free and, unwhipped: of justice to. mingle again in society andPleach— ,secession at some future day. Another class are-of-the-con viction—that—ban ishmen foreign clime will satisfy thiclaimspfjustice and forever preclude the possibility of the culprit again plunging the. country blood shed and ruin. On the other hand, we 'find a very 'respectable number who prnotest a gainst this policy of false leniency, and ad vocate hanging as the proper punishment due the insurgents and . especially the arch traitor. Jefferson Davis, and among this lat. , ter class we unhesitatingly number ourselv es. - Magnanimity towards a fallen 'and helileis foe should always accompany the conqueror in his triumphs, but our magnanimity does not savor of that character which would o•-• pen wide the door for the escape of the blot:1 r dy tyrant who has filled countles.s graves with the best and bravest men of the nation.— Out upon such 'magnanimity, out upon such philanthropy. The founders-of the Repub, lie declared treason a crime, and for the com mission of that crime the laws have affixed the punishment of decal. .Mr. Davin in 'seeking to overthrow the Government on' which the existence, happiness, and prosperi ty of millions depend, rendered himself a menable to those outraged laws, and he rich ly deserves the penalty. Mumford, of New Orleans, at the outbreak of the war waft hung -- for - merely pulling down the flag that Gen. Butler had hoisted, yet this man Davis, who. not only tore down the American 'Flag, but but filled the lapd with fraternal blood, mis ery, and desolation , _ is Sought to be screened from the late he has been instrumental in bringing upon others. We repeat, out upon such magnanimity, and w i ti hope the President and the tribunals before twhich the question of punishing trai tors shall come, will lend a deaf ear to all ap peals for the exercise ill-timed, ill-deserved clemency. It would be a permanent and last ing.shame for the Government to mete ont punishment to such traitors and felons as Mumford and Kennedy, who were' simply the dupes of Davis; and then let the latter, with his hands crimsoned with the best blood of the country, slip through an amnesty proa lanintion. The atrocities of Southern pris on-houses, the recollection of which causes human nature to shudder, demand a just and righteous retribution, and should the great est criminal of all be permitted to escape the punishment due the enormity of his offence, it is a premium on treason, nothing more or less. He was the prime mover of the rebel lion, and its unholy work and barbarities were carried out in compliance with the pol icy chalked out by, him as Commander-in chief of the Southern armies. Ile not only violated the usages of modern warfare but countenanced and encouraged brutalities un heard• of within the bounds of civilization, = • r ne-mau—, wheFhaif-not-the-hear a demon, could have sanctioned, As the head and front of the conspiracy which_ con verted our homes into abodes of mourning, be is the most responsible and has upon his' skirts the blood of the Union defenders whom he slaughtered by thousands as they lay at his mercy, in the crowded prisons of the South. We say again, out upon such magnanimi• ty as would spare the doer of all this evil, the worker of so much iniquity. The na tional authority should be vindicated and the majesty of the laws sustained. Ile was the first to take up the sword, and as the arch-. fiend of the South, lot him perish by the sword, and posterity•will approve the act.— Whatever disposition, may be made of his ac complices, he at least should sufferethe ez trewe penalty of the law he trampled under foot to serve as a warning to those who shall come after him. There is a Light Beyond When in Maderia, writes a traveler, I set, off one morning to reach the summit of a mountain, to gaze upon the distant scene and enjoy the balmy air, I had a guide with me, and we had with difficulty ascended some two thousand feet, when a ,thick mist was s_e_en_d_e_ceading_up'ca_us,quiteobseuriag-t he whole heavens: I thought I had no hope left but to retrace our steps, or be lost; but as the cloud came nearer, and darkness over shadowed me, my guide ran on before, pene trating the mist, and calling to me, ever and anon, saying:—"Press on, master, press on— there is light beyond." I did. press on. In a few minute the mist was passed, and I. gazed upod a•scene of trail- scendent beauty. All was light and 'cloud less above, and beneath. was the almost level mist, concealing the worlds beneath me, and glistening in the rays. of the sun like a field. of untrodden snow. • There. was nothing at that moment between me- sad the. heavens. 0 ye, orer,whom the clouds arc gathering, or who sit beneath the shadow, . be. not' dis mayed' if they rise . befere you. Press on, there. is light beyond. UNEORTJONATE COURARISON.-.4 lady entered a dry goods store itt---r-Street. and expressed a desire to see some Wool. de !eines. The polite clerk, with- elegant. ad dress, showed her a variety of pieces of_fine texture and choice coloring. After tossing .and examining to her heart's content, shore marked: 'The goodi are • part cotton sir.'—'' 'My dear madam,'' returned the ahem* 'these goods are as free from cotton as yoim breast is—(tbe ladystarts)—free froniguile;!' he added. 4 • It is a maxim of prudence, to leavC things before they leave us. 62.00• Pei* Year Meditation. Go le the:grave of buried love and' medi tate. „There settle accounts with thy cense-- ence for every past benefit unrequited—eve ry; pSsCerideartnent unregarded, of that de; parted being who can never-=never—never return win soothed by thy contritioul If, thou art a child and, bast ever added - a row to the,soulr, or a furroW to the silvetbd • brow of an effectionato parent; if, thou art , a birsbwci, and hist-evereaused-the-fond-bo soM that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms to doubt one moment of thy kindness or truth; if their art a friend, nod bast ever wronged in thought, or word, or deed,' the spirit thit generously' confided in thee; if thou art a lover, and bast ever given one-un merited Pang*to that true heart which now lies cold beneath thy feet—then be sure that. every unkind look every ungracious word, every .ungentle aetion', will come thronging balk Upon thy memory, and knocking dole hilly at thy soul—then be sure ,that you will lie down sorrowing and repentant on the . grave, and utter the unheard growl, and pear the unavailing tear—more deep, more bitter, because unheard and unavailing.— Washing ton Irving. FOURTEEN WAys BY WITICTI PEOPLE GBP 510N..-19t. Eatinf; too fast, uud swallowing food imperfectly masticated. 2d. Taking too much fluid during meals. 3d. Drinking poisonous whiskey and oth er intoxicating liquors. 4th. Keeping late hours at night, and slee ping too late in the morning. sth. \Veering the clothes so tight as to im pede circulation. 6th. Wearing thin shoes. 7th. Neglecting to. take sufficient exercise. to keep the hands and feet warm. Bth. Neglecting to wash the body. suffi, ciently to keep the pores of the skin open. 9th.. Exchanging the warm clothing worn. in a warm room during the day for the costumes and exposure. incident to evening, parties, 10th ‘ Starvingt the stomach 'to. gratify a. vain and foolish passion for dress. • 11th. Keeping up a constant excitement by fretting the mind with borrowed. troub les. ' 12th. Employing cheap doctors, and swill owing quack nostrums for evoy imaginary 13th. Taking tho weals at irregular inter vals. ' 14th. Reading the trashy and exciting lit erature of the day, and going crazy do poll. tics. Take My Hand, Papa. In the dead of the night I am frequently awakened by a little hand stealing out from the crib by my side, with the pleading cry, "Please take my hand, papa l" InStantly the little boy's hands is grasped,. his fears vanish, and, soothed. by the con icionsness of his father's presence, he falls into sweet sleep again. Wo commend this lesson of simple, filial faith and trust to the anxious, sorrowing ones that are found in almost every household.— Stretch forth your hand, stricken mourner, althntwh 'on ma , be iu the dee •est dark- ness au g oom, an sear an anxious sus pease may cloud . your weary path-way, and that. every act will reveal the presence of a loving, compassionate Father and give you. the pence that passeth all understanding. . • The darkness may not pass away at once —night may still enfold you. in its embrace, but its terrors will he dissipated, its gloom and sadness flee away, and, in the simple grasp of the Father's hand ; sweet peace will be given, and you will rest securely know ing that the "morning couieth."— Volvos annalist. As Gen. Sherman was riding through the 'streets.of Raleigh on one occasion he was pointed out to a party of blacks gathered on the corner. "Lord, Masser, is dat Gen'l Sherman ?"-- :laid one of the 'old men. "Why, bless your soul, dey told us he hadlong whiskers, way down to his knees. Dey told us he ha d big eyes ansi ears, and, had. horns. Why Lord,. bless my heart—dat General Sherman r, Why, all us niggers. used to run when dep. holler, Sherman. Why, all de white folks run. Yes, runrand.hide 'demselves. Why, Wheeler's cavalry. when dey dun hear of 'Sherman's a coming,' would rdn. Lord,. it, made old Johnston run to hear of dat man. Iso glad rve seen him, though.' — fiulfiiiin. ted to see de man what made old massa run. so." SAYIISTO. GRACE.—Charles4arop was in. the habit of wearing a white cravat, and in csnsequence was.sometimes taken for a cler gyman. Once.at a dinner table, among a large number of, guests, : his wllite cravat caused such a mistake to. bo made, and he was called on to say grace. Looking up and down the table, he asked, in his inimitable, lisping manner, 'ls there no.el-cl-clergyman present ?" "No, sir," answered astiest.--;- "Then," said Lamb, bowing hislead, "let us. thank„ God:" At a large dinner party, in a certain, city,. lately, the frosty weather 'had done consider able duty. in, supplying conversation, when a l plump, happy looking married lady. made a. remark about .cold. feet. "Surely," said a. lady opposite ' you. are . not trou bled with co ldi feet ?" Amidst an awful, pause sho naively answered, "Yes,indoed,l very much troubled—but then they are. my. own." , - • .fie that is innocent, may well be. con& • fle that is riot above an injury, is below himself, - : :Whnie taw is ) them is no tranin,iei -0 &ion. • :4 NUMBER 49
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers