Xl3r IPI7. 3131423. r.
VOLUME XVIII
.2=oErriculLia.
THE NOMI OP MAT.
All nature now is smiling,
Sweet birds are singing gay;
And fragrant dolma are flinging
Their purfume on our way,
An things assume a brighter hue
Within this month of flowers:
And time beneath his healing wing,
Shelters the youthful hours.
The birds me sweetly warbling,
Proclaiming May is born;
A man's glad heart is praising
The beauty of the morn.
7tcngs with gladness
A soul enlivening lay,
And balmy, grateful breezes .
Has the merry month of May
The flowers fair are raising
Each gold and scented head,
And sweet and blooming roses
Spring from the leafy bed;
And everything appeareth
Around us and above,
filled with the gentle spirits
Of faith, of Hope, and love,
The happy birds are stinging
Their sweet and joyous notes;
They warble all melodiously,
From out their tiny throats;
Lott echoes are replying, °
. And gm they die away,
Theebirsls-ance-more-resumert..
And still prolong the lay.
The queen of night shall_ fold thee
And perfumed air shall hold thee
In its delicious charms.
..And all shall ring_in_gladness -
TA — Foul enlivening lay, •
To praise the month of flowers,
The merry rnenth'of May.
SING, MAMA -SING
BY HARRY CORNWALL
Sing, maiden,sing! •
Mouths were made for singing;
Listen—Songs thou'lt hest
Through the wide world ringing;
Songs from all the Lids,
Songs from winds and ishowers,
Songs from seas and streams,
Even from sweet flowers.
' Hearest thon' the rain.
How it gently fullethl
Nearest thou the bird
Who from forest eallethl
'dearest thou the bee
O'er tt e sunflower ringing?
Sett ut. - Tin — at en, now—
Shouldst not•thou be singing?
Ilearest thou the breeze
Round the rose-bui sighing?
And the small sweet rose
Love to love replying?
So shouldst thou reply
To the prayer we're bringing;
So that bud, thy mouth, • •
Shouldat burst forth in singing!
pl y * 0- 0 11 1 1 dir410‘:`1111,44111
HOW HE CAME TO BE MARRI-
It may be funny but I've done it. I've
got a rib and a-baby. Shadows departed—
oyster stews, brandy cocktails, olger,.boies,
boot jacks, absconding •shirt buttons, whist
and demijon. Shadows present—hoop skirts,
band boxes, ribbons, garters, long stockings,
juvenile dresses, tin trumpets, little willow
chairs, cradles; bibs, pap, sugar teats, pare
goric, hiv,elyrup, rhubarb, sena, salts, squills,
and doe or bills. Shadows future—more
pound br.bies, more hive syrup, etc., etc.—
I'll just tellyou how I got caught. •I was
almost the darndest, most tea• custard bash
ful fellow you ever did see, it was kinder in
my line to be taken with the shakes ever
• •, saw -c=
pretty gal approaching me, and
I'd cross the street any time rather than face
one;"twaan't because . 1 didn't like the crit
ters, for if I was behind the fence 'Coking
through a knot-hole I couldn't look at; one
long enough. Well, my sister Lib gave a
party one night, and I stayed away from
home because I was too bashfull to face the
music. 1 hung around the house whistling
"Old Dail Tucker," dancino 4 " to. keep my feet
warm ; watching the heads bobbing up and
down behind the window currins, and wish
ing the thundering party would break up so
I conkl get to any room, I smoked up a
bunch of cigars, and as it was getting late
and mighty uncomfortable, I concluded to
shin up the door post. No sooner said
than done, and I soon put myself snug in
bed.
"Now," says I, 'let her lip ! Dance till
your wind gives out r' And cuddling un
der the-quilts, Morpheus grabbed me.
I was dreaming of soft shell crabs and stow
ed tripe, rind was having a good time when
somebody knocked at the door and woke
Mo up. "Rap"-again. I laid low. "Rap,
rap, rap !" Then I heard a whispering,
and 1 knew there was a whole raft •of gals
outside. "Rap" iap !" Then Lib sings
out.
"Jack, are you in there ?"
"Yes,"'says I.
'Then came a roar of laughter {
"het us in," sap she.
• - .
•
A. 3rEilekk4te NeOliNroisstroeir's and 121.e41:1fficoxi..
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 26,1865.
"I won't," says I, •'°can't yea let a fellow
alone r. •
"Are you a-bed ?" says she. •
"I am," say's I. .
"Get out,' .says she.
"I won't," says I.
Then 'came another laugh.
By thunder ! I began to get riled.
"Get out, 'you petticoated 'morel:wows !"
I cried; "can't you get a beau without
hauling a fellow out of bed ? I won't go
home with you—l won't—so you may clear
out ?"
And, throwing a boot at the door, I felt
better. But presently oh! mortal buttonl—
I beard a still, small voice, very much like
sister Lib's and it said:
"Jack,lmell have to get up for all the
girl's things are there!"
Oh, Lord, what a pickle! Think of me in
bed', all covered with shawls, muffs, bonnet
and cloaks, and twenty girls outside the."
•• .a.
- 1
to think
I should have pancaked on the spot. As it
was I rolled out among the bonnet-ware and
ribbons in a hurry. Smash! went the
nery in every direction. I had to dress in
the dark—for there was a crack in the door,
and the girls will peep—and the way I fum
bled about was death on straw hats. The
critical moment came. ' opened the door,
and found myself right atnong the women.
"Oh, my Leghorn!" cries one. "My dear,
darling, winter velvet!" cries another, and
they pitched in—they pulled me this . way
and that, toxed my ears, and one bright.ey
ed little piece Sal her name was—
put her arms right around my neck, and kiss
ed me right on my lips. Human -nature
couldn't stand that, and I gave , her as good
as'she sent. It was the first time I ever got
the taste; and it was powerful good. I be
lieve I could have kissed that gal from 'Tull
bus Censer to the Fourth otellul.
ac" - raid she, "we are sorry to disturb
you, but won't you see me borne?"
"Yes," said I, "Iwill,"
--I-did '
.AcifiV-if - id=had-a-n - otheack at tr.
gate, too. After that we took's kinder tur.
tle.doving after each other, both of us sigh
ing-like a barrel of new cider,-when we were
- aWay — from each other. 'Twas at the close
of a glorious summer day—the sun was set.
ting behind a distant hen-roost—the bull
frogs were commencing their evening songs
and polly-wogs, in their native mud-puddles,
were preparing themselves for the shades of
night—and Sal and myself sat upon an anti
quated back-log listening to the music of
nature, such as treetonds, roosters, and grunt.
ing pigs, and now and then the music of a
distant jackass was wafted to our ears by the
gentle zephyrs that sighed among the mul.
len stalks, and came heavy laden with the de
licious odor of hen roosts and pig styes.—
Thelast lingering rays of the setting sun,
glancing from the buttons of a solitary horse
man, shone through a knothole in a hog pen
1,1111 in Sal's face, dying her hair an orange
peel hue, and showing off my threadbare coat
to a bad advantage—one of my arms was
around Sal's waist, my hand resting on the
small of her back—she was toying with my
aburn locks of jet black hue—she was al
most gone and I was ditto.' She looked like
--a--grassfropper - dyiw-tcht — th - C - h i coups, and
I felt like a mud-turtle choked with a cod
fish ball.
"Sal," says I, in a voice as musical as the
notes of a dying swain, will you have me ?"
She turned her eyes heavenward, clasped
me by the . hand, had an attack of the heaves
and blind staggers, and with a sigh that
drew her shoe-strings to her palate, said
"Yes !", . _
She gave clear out, then, and squatted in
my lap, she corkscrewed and curflumixed and
rolled in. I hugged her till I broke my sus
pender, and her breath smelt of onions she
eat two weeks before.
Well, to make a long, story short, she set
the day, and we practised for four weeks ev
ery night how we would walk into the-room
to be married, till we got AO we would walk
as graceful as a couple of Muscovy ducks.—
The night the company and the minister
came, the signal was given, and arm in arm
we marched through the crowded hall, we
were just entering the parlor door, when
own I went kerslap on' the oilcloth, pulling
Sal after me. Some cussed fellow had drop
ped a banana skin on the floor, and it floored
me; It split an awful hole in my cassimeres
right under my dresseoat tail. It was to
late to'back out, so clapping my hand over it
we marched in and were spliced, and taking
a scat I watched the kissing the bride o'er
tion. Ny groomsman was tight, and he
kissed Mr till, I jumped up to take a slice,
when, oh, horror, a little six year old imp
had crawled behind me and pulled my shirt
through the hole in my pants,lhad pinned it
to the chair, and in jumping up I displayed
to the admiring gaze of the astonished mul
titude, a trifle more white muslin than was
pleasant. `T h e women giggled. the men
roared, and I.got mad, but was finally put to
bed, and there all my troubles ended. Good
night.
There are women who cannot grow old—
iomen who, without any special effort, re
main always young and always attractive.—
The number is smaller than it should be, but
there is still a sufficient number to mark the
wide difference between this class and the
other. The secret of this perpetual youth
lies not in beauty, for some women possess
it who are not at all handsome; nor in dress,
for they are frequently careless in that res
pect, so far as the mere arbitrary dictates of
fashion are concerned; nor in hexing, nothing
to do, for these very young women 'are al
ways busy as bees, and it is very well known
that idleness will fret people into old age,
and ugliness faster, than• overwork. The
charm, we imagine, lies in a sunny temper—
nettber more nor less—the blessed gift of al
ways looking on the bright side of' life, and
of stretching the 'mantle of charity over eve
rybody's faults and failings.
A SAD -HISTORY
' We yesterday met a young and interest.
ing girl at the house of an soquaintanee, who
told us du tale of wrong and suffering that
would furnish material for a good sized nov..
One year sgo this young lady left her
bon* in Pennsylvania—a home- where all the
luxuries of life were at her command. 'Her
parents were indulgent, and she, an only
child, was loved by them with all the true
p r arental'affection. No wish of hers remain
ed ungratified, for she was the idol• of those
parents, and . the light of the home made des
nlate. by an' not which will forever cast its
shadow on her heart.
In Febrgary, 1864, she, became acquaint
ed with a - Mormonpreacher, who painted to
ber in glowing terms the glories of Utah and
the Mormon religion. lie told her_of-th-r
Afuk-valleys - oill'fali — fortified on all sides
by giant mountains, whose peaks, 'burnished
by eternal snows, looke'd down upon the•val
leys of perpetual green, peopled by' God's
own chosen kindred, who were free as the
mountain torrents that leaps the rooks of lof
ty Timpanogos range. He told__hcr_of_the
eontent and peace reigning among the saints,
and assured her that he Mormons were God's
own peculiar people, and so worked upon her
imagiriation that she finally consented to
leave friends, family, and endearments of
home, and ga with him to the Valley of the
Saints.
Arriving at Chicago, he forced her lo mar
ry him, the ceremony being performed by a
mock priest, without record or license. On
last April she left Wyoming, Nebraska, with
a Mermen train, for the lan.of promise, and
finally_ arrived in the city of Saints. Here
she found that her husband had -four other
wives, who regarded her with no tender e
motionsr-but—hettped—abuse--and—con 'newly
upon her head.
After a few months_her-liege-lord toldle - r=
he__ - Ifird_coneruded - tos - et er o another, who
had taken a great fancy to her; that his oth
er wives were jealous, and declared that
_his
last wife should_notilive-with—v
ger.
She declared she would die before she
would thus be put away and forced. to live
as the wife of a man. with whom she hid no
acquaintance, and bad seen but once in her
life. Her husband told her it was Brigb
ham's order, and she must do so or lose her
life. Determined not to be thus sacrifteed
she started to run away with the intention
of makino. b her way to Camp Breckinridge,
in Cedar Valley, then garrisoned'by United
States troops, and claim protection there.—
She started on foot and after traveling about
ten miles, was caught and brought back,
placed in a dungeon, or rather a cellar, and
was thus kept for a month, with just enough
food to sustain life, The man whom sh re
fused to live with frequently visited her, and
besought her to change her resolution in or
der to save her life.
Through force of circumstances she at
last yielded, and was duly installed in his
family, as the sixth wife. Here she found,
as before, the jealousness and quarrels arising
were intolerable, and she tigain_deterolix ,
o escape or die in ,the Attempt. This time
she succeeded in reaching the headquarters
of General Conner, to whom she told her
tale of suffering. The General sent her
through to the States with a Government
train bound for Fort icearney, which place
she reached in due time.
She leaves this city to-nikht, a repentant,
sorrowful child for her home in Pennsylva
nia—that home which she was persuaded to
desert "through the misrepresentation and
wiles of a crafty scoundrel. What joy and
gladness will well up from thu beads of those
parents, when they again behold the one they
believed lost to them forever. - We drop the
veil. Reader, this is not an isolated case,
but an every-day occurrence in this busy sin
ful world.---[St. Joseph Herald.
Brownlow on Isham G• Harris.
The Legislature of Tennessee having au
thorized the Governor to offer a reward of
$5,000 for the capture of Ex-Gov. Isham
G. Harris, 13rownlow has issued a character
istiz proclamation to that effect. His de
scription of Harris is especially pointed:
"This culprit Harris is about 5 feet 10 in
elms high, weighs about 145 lbs. and is a
bout 55 years of age. His complexion is
sallow—his eyes dark and penetrating—a per
feet index to the heart of a thitor—with the
-scowl-a-rid-frown-of - A deuro - n — res mg upon tis
brow. The study of mischief and the prac
tice of crime have brought upon h:m prema
ture baldness and a gray head.
With brazen-faced impudence he talks
loudly and boastingly about the overthrow
of the Yankee army, and entertains no doubt
but What the South' will achieve her inde
pendence. He chews tobacco rapidly, and
Is inordinately fond of liquor. In Iris 'nor.'
al structure he is an unscrupulous man—
steeped to the nose and chin in personal and
political profligacy—now about lost to all
sense of honor and shame—with a heart reck
less of social duty, and fatally bent on mis
chief. '
If captured, he will be found lurking in
the Rebel . strongholds of Mississippi,
barna or Georgia, and in female society, alleg-
ing, with the sheep-faced modesty of a vir
tuous man,, that it is not a wholesome state
of public sentiment or taste that forbids an'
indiscriminate mixing together of marries
men and women,---If captured, the fugitive
must be delivered to me alive, to the end
that juitice may be done him here, upon the
theatre of his former villainous deeds."
It will be remembered that the news of
Lee's intended elacuation of Richmond; and.
\
the necessity Of his taking immediate.flight,
was made know to Jeff Davis in church.—
It is a remarkabl coincidence that the con
gregation at the t me wore singing the hymn.,
.0117 where shall r st be tound.',
Edward Bates On Mi. Lincoln
The following tribute - to Mr. Lino°le from
es-Attorney Gen, Bates, dppears'in the St.
Louis papers;
"ST Louis, April 29,1865.
"To 0. D. Filley, Esq., and the othei Gentlemen,
his Associateic
"Sin--When I received the loiter with
which you lately honored me, I felt a strong
inclination to comply with your request 'to
deliver an oration upon the character and
public services of Abraham Lincoln, at such
time and place as might snit my conveni
ence.' But I could not be unmindful of the
peculiar difficulties of the subject, especially
to one who had been closely associated with
President Lincoln for nearly the whole of his
first term, and in the most trying times of
our country's history. If you had desired
to hear_Stat• n_nua_in-regar-
acter of Mr. Lincoln, the task would haie
been easy, and to de a labor of love; for I
think I know and appreciate that chain - der,-
in its beautiful simplicity of truth and kind
ness, and in its' strength, and - goodness. I
' knew him for many pare, on terms of the
most pleasant social courtesy. Our commu
nity of opinion upon political questions drew
us more closely together, and produced a mu
tual feeling of respect and confidence, which
has never been shaken: I could dwell with
delight upon the' beatitifultraits of his char
acter, both of heart and mind; for I can con
fidently declare that I never associated with
a more bland and 'amiable gentleman, and
have never known a man of quicker percep
tion or higher appreciation of truth and jus
' tice. I have-known many men more learn.;
ed in books than Mr. Lin'coln•_but_not—one
-whose-mind - could more read ily perceive ,the
truth of a fact or a principle, or more clear
ly state it 'in language, or more certainly
'rove it h logical anzument
"But, my friends, you ask for a_n_oration,-
1
not-on-his-charactenly-i—but—ala-oinTliii
puilic services! How can that great subject
be, justly and discriminately, compressed in
to the narrow s owe of an_oPafion-?-I.—dare-
notuadaitaVe — a. task so arduous in itself, and
so delicate in the bands of one of his own
political family. His public services are in
terwoven with the fabrio o f our history
for the last four years, an epoch abounding
with the most startling facts, a period in
which the events of ages are crowded into
Joon the.
ica - iii — lon-
"He was wise and good; and let it suffice,
that, by his wisdom and virtue, he has sav
ed the nation. He has quelled the most for
midable insurrection that ever rose against a
good Government and a free and happy peo
ple. Oh! that it had pleased God to spare
his life, for the good of a suffering nation,
until he could accomplish his glorious pur
pose, to rehabilitate the shattered Union, to
restore to the people peace, order and law,
and to give to the guilty and ruined States
integral members of the nation) repose
and safety, with the hope of returning pros
perity and wealth.
pray you, my friends, excuse me. A
side from the reason above assigned, the
state of my health forbids my compliance
I)uring the last half of winteraulall-sprinos r
my throat and
lungs that I dare not attempt to speak in
p üblic
"With the greatest respect, I remain, gen-.
tlemen, gratefully your friend,
• EDWARD BATES."
• Be Just—A Warning.
We often wonder, while seated in our
Bxlo room, poring over a pile of exchanges
in the endeavor to cull something wherewith
to tickle the fancy or benefit our readers,
that the ghosts of grim, worn-out, emaciate
seedy, dilapidated, ragged and torn, cadaver
ous, consumptioa generative, and death on
the pale horse looking editors don't appear
at the bedside of those who have cheated tha
printer ,out of his justly entitled dues, and
with scissors in one hand--pen in the other,
cranium surmounted by au immense paste
pot, frighten the poor devils into the pay
ment of arrears. But, no; such. men are
hardened; their hearts are callous, and you
might as well attempt to feed a wild cat with
butter through the medium bf a hot awl, as
to attempt to get their share of payment for
the nights of toil, wasted energies, and a
lease on an early grave, given hy,the poor
devil of a printer for their amusement an&
benefit. A noted criminal once said that his
first step in erithe was cheating a printer,
and we believe him. Take heed, ye della-
iireataue — ktvw not:upon the brink ye stand.
Ere it's too late, turn upon, your course, aad
ye may yet be lappy, and become infiuen•
tint members of sooiety. Be just—think
what a life of wretchedness and remorse yan
will shun. Think of your wives and little
ones, who would blush with shame, if you
persist in your.course, which can only lead
to 'a life of wretchedness and disgrace, awl
• when remorse will finally sieze upon you—
what then?, Perhaps a- violent end, a iob
for the Coroner!, And you will be pointed
out by the good, the gifted and the virtuous
to the using generation as a terrible exam
ple. Pause! ere tosi late, we beseech you.—
Our blank receipts are printed, and we'll
shout jubilantly to attend to your case, awl
be the means of saving you from destruction ;
D.elays are dangerous. Terms of paper same
as heretofore; advertisements inserted o.n
reasonable terms. Job•work executed neat.
ly for cash. Let us sing:
•
How happy are they
'Who the printer do pay,
And settle for a year or more
Tongue cannot express
The joy of the press, etc , etc.
—2ll . arin (Cut) Journal.
Decora, a famous, Winnebago chief, died
recently at Lincoln, Wis. aged_one-bundred
and thirty three years. Be .oded the Uni.
ted States in the Black Ilawk war i and , was
rewarded by Gen. Jackson with a small Uni.n.
ted States 11ag. Bo kept it as long as he
lived and now it waves over Ili,. grave. .
The qipture of Jiff
The announeetnent• of the surprise and
capture of Jeff. Davis at Irwinsville, its Ir
win county,Georgia is received by the peo
ple with iiiifeigfied satisfaction. The pub
lie had looked foiward to •this event with a
considefable degree of 'confidence, the disp'o
cal of his pursuers• being such that escape
was next to impossible. It would , seem that
be had parted' company with Breekinridge,
Benjamin, and the bodyguard of two thou
sand men •in order to make a detour that
would divert suspicion from his , movements...
What a contrast between the hunted run
away. of to-day and the •pioud, cold, imperi
ous despot of the past! A little while' ago,
the head and front of a daring,' defiant, and
r.,owerful army of 'treason, and next a wan
derin? fu . • ~.ith—a— p rieUTret upon his
cad. Only lately he sternly refused all of
fers of peace upon the only basis which the.
President•of the United Staies was author
ized to extend, only lately lie 'breathed out
threats and Menace, and hurled Scorn and
provocation against his countrymen who ad
hered to loyalty and duty. Now he is a
prisoner in our hands after vainly trying to
flee from the wrath to come. Deserted in
his need by those whom he betrayed, he
.finds truly that the way of the transgressor '
is hard. His Dame is execrated by none in
the North more heartily than by his own
people, Their detestation of his treachery
and his baseness, and their disgust and con
tempt occasioned by -his perfidious bank rob
beries and his cowardly mode of sneaking
away, are increasing every day. This hatred
will grow the greater tha_more his-inrimaucl
becomes and understood.
Yet even in the guise of an arrested fugi
tive, of a runaway repudiated by his own!fol
lowers, of a suppliant craving the mercy of his
Won-there-1n igh t-be-atuelt-iniltecase-o fJ
-Davis-tcrwinour_commiseratiout Jef.
- Terson Davis in his wife's clothes is not a
- auffteiebtly - elevate - d - Ch - aracter-to attract our
regard and admiratio_n—A-man-detected - iis
- female - garb cannotbe accepted as a genuine
type of. the hero, or a fair exponent of the
manliness we invariably associate with our
model of heroism. 'Dress makes .tho man,
the want of it the fellow,' but not female
dress. Pathos thus exemplified is only a sub
ject for the comic papers. The step from
the sublime to the ridiculous comes properly
within the domains of Chativari. Jeff. might
have laced a world in frowns with compos
ure but a world convulsed with laughter is
enaugh to extinguish any one of half his sen
sibility. Small things frequently lead to
great events. Rome was saved - by the cack
ling of geese and Jeff Davis was betrayed by
his boots. The petticoats were not long, e
nough to cover his pedal investments, and
the incongruity between female crinoline and
masculine boots was made apparent. Poor
Jefl.! How will he survive . his ignominy ?
American.
Geneial Lee
There is to-day among the loyal peoplo of
the North a great deal of romantic and sick
ly feeling ja favor
/e must s e called the Virginia Gentle
man, the Christian Soldier, and the hero who
did not want to rebel. We have not a , parti
cle of sympathy with this sentimentality, nor
a drop of patience with those who inffnlge
it. Gen. Lee tras.an educated army officer,
in the service of the United States, at the
time of the outbreak of the rebellion. He
saw no good and sufficient reason for the re
bellion, and against his better judgment, de
aerted the army and the country and joined
the enemy because the State from which he
hailed had rebelled. If the private soldier
who deserts the ranks deserves to be shot,
Gen Lee deserves to hang higher than Ha
man. If Jeff Davis deserves to be hung for
rebellion when he thought there was good
reason for it, why should not Lee be hung
for rebellion. when he acknowledged there
was no good reason for it? : In our opinion,
Jeff Davis is wore to be excused than Lee.
Besides, the Christian qualities which have
been attributed to Gs bee, do not exist,—
In his communication with Grant in reference
to the surrender of the rebel army, be tried
a trick of words which'any where else would
be called lying. He was severe and almost
'heartless in tha treatment of his own soldiers,
at one time throwing three hundred veterans
into Castle Thunder in irons because they
asked a second time for a twenty days' fur
lough. He knew that our prisoners in his
-Itands-were - rotting and stTrving at .13e1 e s e,
Andersonville, Saulsbury, a n d elsewhere,
and it was in his power to relieve them, yet
be allowed this to go on increasing to the
, end, and never uttered a word against its is
' humanity and infamy.
John Minor Botta saw no teason_for the
rebellion, and yet did not wish to take part
against his native State. 'Did be therefore
tale part against his country? No. He
withdrew entirely, and remained, if not ac
tively yet passively, loyal. Gen Lee also
saw no reason for rebellion and yet did not
wish to take part against .his native State—
He therefore became . a deserter and a trail,
tor, and led a hundred thousand won a-.
gainst the life of the nation.—Lancaster
Gazette,
When Dr. Johnson. asked the widow Por
ter to be his wife, he told her candidly that
be was of mean extraction, that he bad na
money, and that he'd had an uncle banged.
The widow replied that she cared nothing
for his parentage, that . she had no money
herself, and though she hed not bad a rela
tive hanged, she had fifty who deserved.
hanging. ISo they made a match of it.
A man who _avoids_rnatrimong on account
- orihTs — citres ot. we.ided: life is compared to.
one who would ainputato a leg to save his
toes from corns.
•
You will never repeat for 'being patien;p
end saber.
55.00 reti
Kindnelis of 'Mr 'Lincoln.
Thelollosiing incident, clipped from' au
exchange, illustrates-the' kindness of heart
and the tenderness of our late President.--
In November lair, a small, delicate boy 'pa
tiently vitiited with the anxious erovid which
had gathered in the room of the •President.
He was noticed by Mr. Lincoln, who said,
"Come here; my boy. and tell the What you
Want." • The boy, 'trembling and abashed,
stepped forward'and placed his hand upon
the arm of the chair iu which the' PreSident
"was seated, and said:
Mr. 'President. I have been a drummer in
a regiment for two years and my Colonel got
angry with me and turned me off; I was ta
ken sick, and have been a long time in the
hospital This is the first day I have been
out. I came to seelfyou cannot du some
thing for me:
Our exchange continues:
The President looked kindly and tenderly
at him, and asked
had
he lived. Be -
replied that be had no 'Mime. "Where is
your father ?" said the President. "Ile died
in the army," answered the -_boy. "Where
is your mother ?'' "My mother is dead al
so, I have no . father, no mother, •no broth
ers, no sisters'," and, bursting into tears. dm
boy said, "and nofriends. Nobody cares for
me." The scene was very affecting. Mr.
Lincoln's eyes filled with tears, and he said
to him: "Can't you sell newspapers ?" "No,"
said the boy, "I am too weak, matt the sur
geon of the hospital told um I must leave;
and I have no money, and no friends, and no
place togo
"The scene was indesoribahly tender and af
fezting, and the President immediately drew
from his drawer a card, on which he 'wrote
his wishes, that the officers shotild care (in
his - own affectionateiang_uagel "for-am::
When the card was handed to the drum
mer boy, a smile lit up his face, all wet with
tears and_h_e_returned-fully - convinCe - dfhat
he had at least one good and true friend in
Abraham Lincoln.
About Sleep
There are two kinds of sleep,—the com
plete and incomplete. Complete sleep is a
temporary metaphysical death, though not
an organic one. The heart and lungs per
farm their dikes with their accustomed reg
ularity. It is characterised by a torpor of
the organs of the brain, of the external sen
ses, and of voluntary motions.
Incomplete .sleep is the activity of one or
more of the cerebrain organs, while the oth
ers are in repose; this occasions dreaming.
Sleep is variously affected by health and
disease. Man in time of health sleeps tran
quilly. He 'arises in the morning, refresh
ed and prepared to go forth to his daily la
bor. New strength is given him, languor is •
gone; and all the faculties, both mental and
corporeal_ are recruited. Bat the sleep of
disease is far different. It is short and un
freshing ; disturbed by fearful sights and
frightful dreams.
Stupor and sleep are different, though sup.
posed-by-some-tir-bm I,youoymons. In both
there is insensibility; but it is easy to waken
person from sleep, while it is sometimes Al
most impossible to arouse one from stupor.
It is ftequently the case in sickness that the
person lies for several days in stupor, totally
insensible.
Though sleep be natural, and necessary to
the languid, mental and corporeal faculties,
yet is frequently brought on by some exter
nal cause. Heat prodfices sleep. We wit,
ness it in the summer season: it is common
to see the laborer devoting an hour in the
heat of the day to sleep. .A heated church
and dull sermon are almost sure to . bring
sleep. The heat of the church might be re
sisted, but the sermon is irresistable. Its
monotany falls in leaden accents on the ear,
and soon subdues the most powerful atten
tion. Variety, whether in sight or sound,
prevents sleep; while excessive monotony of
all kinds is apt to induce it. Excessive cold,
as well as heat, produces sleep. A person
without sufficient clothing on his bed will find
it difficult to sleep at night; but it is a fact
that sleep is, produced beore death when
freezing takes place.
The Rebel Women in Richmond.
A correspondent of the Washington Chron
icle says: "Of the women in Richmond I
might write volumes. They have much to
answer for. They have b_een. severPty_mia,
lei by the press and pulpit. They have
crediied the falsehoodsof the one and been
seduced by the religious glosses of the other.
The Confederate cause got to be identified
with 'Their domestic peace and their religions
connections,,and it is a rending of the heart.
strings to see it full. They have lost no op
portunity to stimulate the pride and flagging
hopes of the sterner sex, "I hate the Yan
kees," said a young girl amid her compar:.
ions. "If I ever have any children,. even
though Lee is beaten, I will bring them up
in eternal hatred of those who have subdued
us." "Our hostility," said another "is in
vincible;.l shall never do anything but hate
those who have deprived us otour rights; I
should never have• been willing to yield if it
bad not been yield or starve, and life is
sweet.", Bat the most violent bear testimo
ny to the good conduct of our troops, and
the universal acknowledgement was that they
codld hardly believe their ovmeyes, the Yan
kees had behaved so much better than they
expected."
The youth. with a turn for figures, had
five eggs, to boil, and being told to give theta
throe;minutes each., boiled Omni a quarter'of°
as hour altogether,
'Jeff Davis is May,lB6l—`A II ie want is
to bo let alone.' Jeff Davis in May, 1865
'All I want is ; to be let alone.' .
',/...."..
~ . --..IIMP••••.•.--....-•0••••••.
--fle who.suns after la shadow Hass weari,
some rime:
- ' ';',... . ......
i l y l 150