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OLUME XX WAVNEStORO'•
ammi
Savery v , 'The swot lies
sea Thou art still young.
sower to make up for lost.'
me that thou wilt not dr;
Aing liquor, for a year, ap
,bee to-morrow on good
boy can pick . -ttp stoner
. and drink some bet
keeplbee from or
night. Donbtle
abstain at first
for the sake
will soon
need of
it the
T__ _ _--- --- 6 kt
T .
O'er ouch fair sleeping brow:
. She had each folded flower in sight;
Where are those dreamed§ now?
One midst the forests of the West,
By _n dark stream is laid—
-3E 6 CO3EITICIAZa.
TDB GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.
They grew in beauty side by side,
—They—filled-one-home-with glee;—
Their graves are severed far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea.,
'ar in the cedar shade.
The sea, the• blue tone sea WI one,
He lies where pearls liOdeep---
He was the loved of all, yet none
O'er his low led may weep.
And one—o'er her the martle ehowerti,
is leaves by soft windsfilfri - e
She faded midst Indian flowers,
The last of that- Wight band.
• And parted thus they rest who played
Beneath the same areon tree;
Whose voices mingled as they prayed
- —Around one parent knee.
They that smile lit up the hall,
And cht•ored wttn songs the h
ANN! for love if .hou wert • ell,
And nougat beyond oh earth!
LOVE AND DM EMI OTUER.-
How happy we might ever he
• If we would help each other—
Assistance lend to foe or friend,
--And-mnke sech-men-a-brother—
It must ho right in life's hot fight;
--- To help our comrades on,
— For victory can only be
• By Union's firm strength won.
How happy we could always be
If we would love each other;
fTwns a decree from One whom we
Should serve before another. -
Love all. •Twill be a joy t., thee
When death's cold hand is near;
You Would not care hatred to bear
To llearn's love•blest sphere.
HOW happy we should ever be,
Now heed Bark clouds of sorrow,
Hope's kindly light should banish night,
And po nt us to God's morrow.
Before we yield on life's rough field
To fickleforture's way,
Let us still hOpe though from grief's cup
We quail' from day to day.
~TBCITsL'LLANY.
A RINI) HEARTED TANNER
The following incident is so beautiful and
touching that it should be road in every
household. in the country. It develops the
true active principle of kindness. How many
an erring mortal, making his first step in
crime, might be redeemed by the exer3ise of
this sublime traq -in the character of the
kind-hearted Qu kJr:
William Savory, an eminent minister a
mong the Quakers, was a Tanner by trade
OJe night a.quautity of bides were stolen
from his Tannery, and he had reason to be
lieve that the thief was-a quarrelsome, drunk
en neighbor, culled John Smith. Next week
the following advertisement appeared in the
country newspaper:
'Whoever stole a quantity of hides on• the
fif. h of this month, is hereby informed that
the owner has a sincere wish to be his friend.
If poverty tempted him to this false stop, the
owner will keep the whole transaction secret,
and will gladly put him in the way of obtain.
ing money by means more likely to bring him
peace of mind!'
.This singular advertisement attracted con
siderable attention; but the culprit alone
knew who had made the tind offer. When
ho read it his heart melted • within him and
be was' filled with sorrow for what he had
done A few nights afterwards, as the Tan
er'irfamily were about retiring to rest they
board a timid knock, and when the ,door was
opened duke stood John Smith, with a load'
of hides on his shoulders. Without looking.
up be said; have brought these back, Mr
Save y; where shall I put theta' --
4itait till I can get a lantern, and I will
go to the barn with thee,' be 'replied 'then
perhaps thou wilt come in, and tell me how'
this, happened. We will sow what can -be
done for thee.
As soon as they wore gone out, tie wire
prepared s o me hot coffee, and placed pits
and-meat upon -the table., When they to
turned from the barn -sh e•seide .‘Neighbor
stnith; thought vane hot, supper would be
godd thee"'
•Afe-turned his book towards her, • and , did
not speak: After loaning against Abe fire-•'
place. In silence a few moments,.he said in a
ohoked,vciiee: 'lt kith° first time J ever,
stole anything, and I have felt 'very. had a-,
boutit. lem sure I didn't once think. that
I should over come to What am But I
took'to drinking, and .* then to quarrelli4.
Since began tegn down evOribedY „giver;
ins ,a, ,kick Yen are 'the ,first :wan .04 ,has
ever offered urea helping:hand. 14y, stife , is
sickly end-my children ltarving. Yen level
sent them, many., nteal. 'God bless,yonl,
yet I took the hides.' tut '1 lan yon•;:the
truth-when ie-the first -dine I Was
ever a ihief„, • ' • " '
•Decit'be - the 'kat, my friontl' replied-
WAYNESBORO% PRANKL
William Savery. 'The swat lies between
ourselves Thou art still young, and it is in
thy, power to make up for lost time. Prom
ise me that thou wilt not drink any intosi
eating liquor, for a year, and I will employ
thee to-morrow on good wages. The little
boy can pick . -up stones. ) But eat a - bit now,
and drink some het coffee; lerhaps it will
keep'thee from braving anytlling stronger to
night. Doubtless thou wilt find it hard to
abstain at first; bat keep up a brave heart
for the sake of thy wife and children, and it
will soon become easy. When thou hest '
need of coffee, tell Mary, and she will. give
it thee.'
The
door fellow tried to ' at and drink, but
d seemed — ich — Okt h'm. After vain
in g to compose his fee *ngs, he bowed
tad on the table, and wep ike a child.
a while he ate and drank, and his host
I with him for the night with the friend
rds, 'Try to do well, Jahn, and thou
c_a _
tered into his employ the next day, and re•
mained with him many years, a sober,honest,
and steady man. The secret of the theft
was kept between them; but after John's
death, William Savery sometimes told the
story to prove that evil might be overcome
with good.
The New York _Herald of Saturday, May
IL contains the following romantic story of
high life:
Quito an excitement was aecasioned in
fashionable circles in this Ashy a few day ago
by an affair which called for the interference
- of-the - police - detectivea - and - a-ministerof - th e -
Gospel before its culmination A. wealthy
_gentleman-of-Cincinati-last—week—left--tho'
city resolved upon engaging in business in
the metropolis, and before doing so had co
casion to visit a certain family with whom be
had been for a long period of time on terms
of friendly intimacy. I•n this family was an
interesting young lady, for whom he had
evinced an.attaehment of a more tender char
acter than that of a mere friendship, and
who, happily for his fortunate self, returned
- his - affeetintr with - all - th - e - feeling - of - a - youth-
ful heart On hearing of the departure for
this city of the one she held so dear, after in
vain attempting to make him desist from his
intended journey, she formed the resolution
of accompanying him, unknown to her par
ents The gentleman endeavoring to induce
her to abandon her wild idea, as he termed
it, but she would listen to no appeal, and
made all the preparations necessary to leave
her borne clandestinely with him, after hav
ing made him promise that he would not re•
veal her project to any member of her fam
ily• The pair arrived safely in this city, and
put up - at the Metropolitan Hotel, the gen
tleman treating the young lady with all the
reqpect due a sister by a brother; be engag
ing separate apartments for herexclusive
- , upation. They had brit been in town over
two days before a dispatch was received from
her father by the authorities at police head
quarters requesting that the gentleman who
had 'eloped' with his daughter should be ar
rested. Under instructions from his chief,
Detective Elder arrested the gentleman at
the hotel, and he was held in custody at the
Central office until the arrival of the young
lady's father. The old gentleman was very
naturally in a state of great perturbation, out
on learning bow matters 'stood, and that
there reallhwo such thing as a criminal
elopement, hepippeared to be somewhat re
lieved from his fearful apprehensions, and to
satisfy his daughter and the man for whom
she had abandoned borne and family, prepar
ations wore made for tha marriage of the
pair• All parties to the transaction were
thus rendered happy. ,_The wedding was eel
ebrated in due form at the residence of'
Captain John Young.
Time Passing
Have you ever seen those marble statues
in some poblic square or garden, which' art
has so finished with a perennial ountain, that
through the lips, or through the hands, the
clear water flows i:n a prepetual - stream. - on,
on forever; and the marble stand there—
passive, cold, making an effort to arrest the
the gliding water. It is so that • time flows
through the bands of.men, swift, never pane
ing till it has ran 'itself out: and there is the
man, pettirfied into a marble sleep, not feel
ing what it it which is passing away forever.
It is so, just so, that the destiny of nine
mon out of ten accomplished itself, slipping
Away frOm them, aimelss till it is too late.—
Arid we are asked, with all the solemn
thoughts which .crowd around an , apprOach.
ing eternity, what has been our life and what
we intend it shall be? Yesterday, last week,
last year—they are gone. Yesterday, for
example, was such a day as never can be
again. Out of darkness and eternity it was
born, new, fresh day; into darkness and
eternity it sank again forever. It had a
a voice calling to us, of its own. Its own
duties what were we doing yester day? Id
ling, whiling away the time in idleness and
luxurious literature—not as life's relaxation
bat as life's baisnosE? thrilling our heart
with the excitement of life? continuing now
so spend the day most pleasantly? Was
that our duty? Sleep, brethern; all that Is
bat.sleep: .And uew let us remember. this,
there -is it day' coming when that elee , p will
be rudely broken with a' shock, there is a'
day in our future lives, when our time' will
be counted, not by years.. nor by months,
nor yet by haunt," but by• minutes, 'the day
when uataibtakable Aymptoos shall announce
that thelocascogers 0( death • have come to
Raertson
Travelling on the 'Mississippi is • about 'es
see as rnuniug a blaoksmith'sheg in'a po*•:
dor 'magazine.
A . negro about' :tying, was told by the
*cloister that he mustlforgivo - a• certain 4lar
key' towards whom lie seemed to entertain
dory• bitter feelings. 'Yes sah,. ho ieplied;
''but well, dat nig must take care.'
IN COUNTI, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNINGAAI: 24, /867.
Anecdote of Frederick the Great
One of Frederick the Great's best Goner
ale was lbws joaohim Von Zieten, common;
ly known in Prussia as 'Father Zieten' or the
Hussar King'
Zieten was never ashamed of his faith.—
On evety oceasioc he professed it, before
high and low. Once he declined an invi•
tation to come to his royal master's table,
of his Lord and Master Jesus Christ. It
was sacrament day. The next time he ap•
_peared_at_the-palace,-the-King,-whoseinidel
tendencies were well , known; made use of
some profain expressions about the holy
communion of the Lord's Supper, and the
othe_ estelan? ;
Zieten shook his grey head solemnly,
stood up, saluted the King, and then said,
with a firm voice:
'Your Majesty knows well, that in war I
have never feared any danger, and every
where have boldly risked my life--tor you
nod my ootintry. I sin sill animated by the
same spirit, and to•day, if it were necessary,
and your Majesty commanded it, would Jay
my grey head at your feet. But there is
one above us who is greater than you
and I—greater than all men. He is the
Saviour and Redeemer, who died also for
your Majesty, aria has dearly bought us all
with_hir
is awolood~— the Holy-6no—r
_
never allow to be mocked or insulted; for on
him repose my.faith, and comfort and hope,
in life and in death. In the power of this
faith your brave army has 'courageously
fought and conquered. If your Majesty
undermines this faith, you undermine, at
the same time r the welfare of the State.—
Tbis is undoubtedly true• I salute your
le noble old soidier having tEF3 oon
oincled his bold testimony" for his Divine
Master, of whom he was not ashamed, sat
down:
This open confession of the Saviour im
mediately silence the scoffers, and evidently
made a powerful impression upon the King.
He felt that he had been wrong in his M
it k on the faith of his general, and he was
r
of ashamed to acknowledge it,__ He gave
is hand to Zieten—his right hand, placing
the left on the man's shoulder and said, with
emotion.
'O, happy Zieten, how I wish I could al
so believe it! I have the greatest respect
for your religion; hold it fast. This shall
never happen again.'
The King then rose from the table, dismiss
ed his other guests, but said to Zieten.
'Como along with me to mq cabinet'
What passed in that conferenee,with clos
ed doors, between the great King and his
greater General, no one has over learned.
But Ibis we know, that the Lords own word;
are now verified to Zieten—'Whosoever ahal
confess Me before men, him will I also con
fess before My -rather which is in Heav
en.'
Leff. Davis
'Speaking of the liberation of Davis, the
.North American aptly says:
"What a sad and humiliating thing it is
that this result, and this only, has been at
tained! The country thirsts for no blood.—
It has excused, or seen excused by its agents,
nearly every individual who was arrested for
complicity in the greatest treason and crime
of all the ages. It has restored their prop
erly to red•handed traitors. It has exccu•
ted none. It has bards! ed none. And now
the very pith and essence, the animating
cause, the devisor and supporter, the execu
tive and representative of the grand crime,
walks away unscathed amid the bows of
those whom be sought to destroy, to. be wel
c6rned by those who were with him in his of
fence."
And againt , —
'This result will be hailed in the south,
and rightly hailed, as a victory. The great
crimin ais free. Major continent in as par_'n
orem—if he goes nnwhipped, who shonld:le
scourged? All punishment becomes criminal,
and we may prepare at once to welcome, with
more than fraterml ieve and with ovations,
the smaller imps who revolved about him
and did 'his bidding. And, furthermore, as
experience has proved that treason is not a
crime, bat a direct appeal to the symphathies
and admiration of' the loyal part of the na
tion, we may bequeath to our Sons, with the
debt which they must inherit, the warning
to be always :preparing for the rebellion
against any law which is law, or any pro
posals whin •are distasteful to any. They
may expect to find the chivalry of any section
resorting to the arbitrament of arms when
excessive wealth. or an itch for notoriety, or
any other -cause, reader it desirable to in
fluential men.
The rebellion in a free country was nom
eedented. And in order that history shall
not be able to give its parallel, we are wit
nesses to a decision which the moral sense,
of instice of all mankind must condemn—to
a decision which remits a traitor and - villain
to affluent • distinction, • which embarrasses
all subsequent legislation, which disarms
true patriots, and gives weapons of logic to
men who unsparinglywscd those of steel.—
Fortunately, the south is in no condition yet
for another appeal to.arms.. But it must be
alwaye borne in mind that we have practical
ly said that in this country treason is not a
crime.
, A scholar, a bald man and a barber who
were traveling together, agreed' each t o
watch four hours at' night, in turo,, for the
sake of security. The barber's lot came first,
who shaved the scholar's head when asleep,
then waked' . him .when his turn came.' The
scholar scratching' his head, and feeling it
bald, exclaimed. 'You wretch 'of a barber,
you have waked- - the • bald .man instead of
' Philadelphia: et - Welles fungal neenn3 . 6 .
d'Alene for 250,000 people., New Yerk 1
40,000,And Boston .114., 000.
A Sad Story.
The Austin (Tekas) Gazette narrates the
Weaving melancholy incident of the death of
two children who bad become lost in the
woods. They wore twine, a 'brother and
sister, four years old, named Dunbar, resid
ing in Limestone entity. The Gazette says:
'TM day was mild and pleasant, and they
had been playing between the house and the
spring. not far distant, where their mother
was engaged in some household duty. How
hc-little-innoeente-,ere—tempted--into—the
forest's depths is not known, but darkness
came on and the children were missed and
did not return.
r
'he_country_ic_sparsel3r_settle.
neighbors could be called on to assist in the
searoh until morning. The alarm was given,
and numbers joined in the vain effort to find
some trace of the lost ones. This was con
tinued until the evening of the third day,
the searchers--then -numbering nearly ono
aun are. ,wa en ey were a isoovere a in a
thicket, about two miles distant from the
house, lying side by side, dead. They were
the nephew and niece of Captain Cane, of
Dallas, the Governces"privite secretary, and
he has resid us a portion of a letter from his
sister, the _unfortunate mother, which has
sensibly affected us, and from which we have
lathered some - of — thc — a - dditianstAttail of
this melancholy affair, given above.
`She mentions another fact, which, sim•
ple as it is, touched our heart to the core.—
The shoes and stockings of the little darlings
had been taken offend were found near them.
The explanation of this, to our mind, is
plain. When night came on there was a sud
den change in the weather peculiar to this
region, called a wet norther. The effect of
t eco d on the human system is well known.
The children became more drowsy as- the
piercing wind chilled through their tender
bodies, until they could resist the influence
no longer, and then, in a half unconscious
state, thinking they were at home, they pull
ed off their shoes and stockings, and, as it
seemed to them, went to bed. And so, lock
ed• in each other's arms, they 'fell asleep to
awaken in heaven'
AWanderer Returns Rome.
Within one month of twenty years ago, a
lad, about fifteen years old, named Kennedy,
whose father, Mr. Neal Kennedy, resided
in South Easton, was corrected by his parent
for some misconduct. The punishment was
mote than his youthful spirit could endure,
and, resolving to run away from home, he
took his departure surreptitiously the after--
noon of the day on which he was chastised.
Although hikanxious parents sought every
means to obtain some information of their
'prodigal son,' all their efforts were in vain,
and no clue of his whereabouts could be
found. Near twenty yenta have elapsed
since then. his relatives have for eighteen
years mourned for him as dead. The fath
er, Mr. Kennedy, has remained in South
Easton since the time of his son's departure,
and other children have been added to his
family. The wanderer was spoken of as
one never to be seen again. His early coin
panians have grown into manhood'e estate,
and few remain in our midst who remember
the wanderer and his departure.
But.the strangest.partof this romance re
mains to be related. On Friday last a mid
dle aged man called at the Leip,h Valley
shops in South Easton. and seemed intent
won finding some one for whom he was look
lug, and at last espying Mr. Kennedy, the
older, at work in the yard, he walked up to
him and announced himself as his aon,whom
ho supposed was deed. The scene which
followed can better be imagined than our
feeble pen can picture it. Unable
. to recog
nizo in the man before him the son, who,
a more stripling, had loft his home so ma
ny years ago, Mr. Kennedy yet found evi
deuces to satisfy himself o f his identity.
The wanderer was conducted to the home
of hie parents, to see his mother who had
long mourned and prayed for his return.
And hero we must draw the veil which ev
er hides the private matters of the family
from the public gazer.
Mr. Kennedy,who is here on a leave of
absence, wo are told, has rizen to the pod
tion of a Lieutenancy in the U. S. Regu
lat. Army, and has boon stationed of late
in one of the distant Territories. During
the period sf his absence he hna been at
sea, and served with credit during the. late
war.—Easton daily Free Press.
MUST HAVE CIDER,-40 a Good Temp
lar's Lodge not a thousand miles from here,
as our reporter is informed, the question was
being discussed as to whether it was allow
able for members of that fraternity to drink
cider. The pros and eons were being dis
cussed with much warmth when a young
laly got up, thoroughly enthusiastic in the
favor of the affirmative. After a spirited
prelude, giving a glowing description of the
goodness of eider, and uticklaess, she closed
with the following: 'Mad brethren, cider is
enecobsity to me, and I must have it. If it
is the positive decree of' this Lodge that wo
aro not to drink eider, I skid! eat apples and
get some flue young man to squeeze me, for
I tell you I can't get along without that de
lightful Lector, the juice of the apple!'
John C. Breckieridge, Jake Thomsen,
Benjamin and other exiled rebels-can now re
turn to their old homes with impunity.—
Treason : la pot a crime—though it imbrues
its banis in blood and ataroca men and wo•
men--treason is a bailable offense-+traitors
when they fall into the heads of the Preel
denture treated like pridees. Let the enf,
tire bait of exiled. traitors coma home to their
friend, Andrew. Johnson. There is fat in
the land'for all - each wretches.. "
A young lady hi Cleveland having brim
afilibta by frightf ol . odor for several days,
wtiioh repulsed her friends, at last fisenvered
io hcr,watorf4ll a dead mouse. It had }wen
Placed there by a mil , ohiovous brother.
Peach Pits for Dyspepsia.
A Reformed Dyspeptic has written a •StorY 1
of a Stomach,' in which the history of his
suffering and his cure is carefully detailed,
together with his•opinions on various points
hygienic and ditetio, which, for their novel.
ty at least, and their bold eontradictiori - of re.
eeived opinion, are worthy of consideration.
At the age of forty the writer found himself
a daily sufferer from this most distreising
disease, and almos t despairing of cure which
-at-last_came_tOlim_tiy_a_mare_aecident—Ad—
company leg a friend down Broadway ono
morning, he was surprised at hie calling in
to a fruiterer's to obtain a prescription.order
ed byJtis ph_ysician„Rhich surprise was rot
diminished upon ascertaining of what that
prescription consisted. It was simply a pack
age of peach pits, which the enthusiastic
vender pronogiced 'absolutely sure to over
come any casMbf dyspepsia if faithfully used
for a. reasonable period of trial.' It appears
a lb pits "- ite Tw— -Um]
_ae peso pi s are a avori e preserip
with Dr, C--= = for' his dyspeptic patients.—
So confident were the honest man's asser
tions in their favor, that I was quite impress
ed - by - his - statemente, - and -- givin,g - way - event
tally to the pressure of his declamation, I
secured a supply of the precious presorip
ion pits, sufficient for at least two weeks of
- faithful - i - idwiTaiTAMitin - . — The direction was
simply to eat them, one or more at a time
to the extent of aay a dozen or two in.a day.
!is the use of Viis article was followed by .
an immediate and decided improvement in
the temper and action of my stomach, it is
impoisible that I should refuse to credit it
with a large agency in this change. Alone
it might not have been able to accomplish
an absolute cure. but as a means of rester
log tone to the digestive organs, and thus
inaugurating a complete reform in their no
lion. I concede to it an almost miraculou
efficacy.
VULOAR tanaunox.—There is as mulch
connotion between the words and th e
thoughts as therels between the thoughts
and the actions. The latter are not only the
expressions of the former, but they have a
power to - re-act - upon - the - soul - and leave - the
stain of their . corruption there. A young
man who allows himself to make use of one
vulgar or profane word has not only shown
that there is a foul spot upon his mind, but
by the utteranoo of that word he extends
that spot and inflames it till, by indulgence,
it will polute and ruin the whole soul. 13e
careful of your , words, as they• show your
thoughts. If you can control the tongue so
that no improper words are pronounced by it
you will soon be able to control the - Mind,
and save that from corruption. You will ox.
tinguish the fire by smothering it, or by
preventing bad thoughts bursting out in lan
guage. sever utter a word anywhere which
you would be ashamed to speak in the pros.
once of the most refined female or the most
religious man. Try this practice a little
while and you will soon have command of
yourself.
. A Young Woman Buried Alive.
A friend gives us the account of a most
terrible ease of the burial of a handsome
young lady at Jacksonville, Illinois Some
time last summer a young lady of seventeen
years of age, suffering with the toothache,
went to bed with a small vial of chloroform
for the purpose of quieting her teeth. In
the morning she was found to all appearane
es, dead, which was confirmed by the op
ionions of several physioians who wore called
and examined her body. She was then bur
ied. A few days since her relatives were a
bout to "remove from Jacksonville, having
located in another State, and had the remains
of the young lady exhumed for the purpose
of taking them to their now home. Curiosi
ty prompted the opening of the coffin, when
they were horror stricken on finding the
corpse turned over, both hands full of hair
and her clothing torn to shreds, revealing
the horrible truth that the young lady had
boon buried alive. The chloroform ha d
placed her in a deep trance, the awakening
from which was in her coffin and grave. The
lady was engaged to be married — it the time
of her supposed death. A more heart sick
ening case we never remember to have road
or heard of.—lndiano polls Journal.
As the Citrenelle train was on its down.
ward trip to Mobile on the first of April an
incident occurred that caused no little a
musement-to the passengers. As the train
was Approaching Eight Milo Station, a lady
quite elegantly attired, with a lovely boquet
of wild flowers in her hand, and face con
cealed from view by a handsome, veil, was
discovered standing on the platform. The
train was ordered to stop, of course, to take
in the fair passenger—and stop it did. The
gallant conductor. immediately jumped out
upon the platform, and cried out as
'A II aboard! at the same time raising his hat
and politely extending his hand to help the
lady aboard. She, however, did not reeog.
nizo his gillantry, b-at stood dumb and mo
tionleSs as a statue: The astonished ()endue
tor advanced, involunmilry raised the veil,
when to! instead of a face ()Minute flesh and
beauty,' the words 'April fool, inscribed on a
black 'light-wood chunk' met his astonished
'vision- lie started heck, Olio the signal to
be off; with unusual violence, jumped aboard
exclaiming to the innocent engineer in a steu
torian voice,—'Whe the Anischief told you
to atop here?'
! I Sambo. can yon tell me in whet building
people are Most likely to take °old!" •
Why, no;lne strangcnk in do totirn, and
can't tell dots! . • -
"Well, I will tell you— it ia de bank."
itHow is dat."•
dm ore litany - drains in'
it."
''hut in g ood; but eVn',y4itt 't me what
makes dare be many drafts fa it?"
uNo" •
t • 4.1
filleeanso so many go ,0 101 - A04014 .de
wind."
___NUMBEKAO
Enough of the' Treason Faroe:
It is Stated anti the Grand Jury of the
United Statek Court, in Richmond, had in
dicted John Q Breckinridge and four or gm
other distinguished rebels, for lite, clime of
treason. It seems to 'us that the treason
farce has gone about far enough. IL the
great chief of all the rebels can be so splen
didly treated, and so easily released, and so
warmly congratulated, and all that sett of
thing, it is hardly Worth while to incur the
trouble - and - expense — ef -- nrrrstieg — a - n - d — trpT --
log any of the lesser lights._ The manner
in which treason has beau 'made odious,' in
the case of Jeff. Davis, is not likely to in
pire_Rreekittridge-or-an-y-ether—relml—witli--
much fear. But Breckinridge has for some
time been troubled with a flatness of puree,
s and it is quite likely that he has rather en
vied his friend Jefferson the excellent board
which the Government has kindly furnished
the lat - I:" rtl I
vations, and the Castings, and the solicitude
of Radical sympathizers, aro 'not to be snee
zed et.! If Breekinridge particularly de
sires it, and agrees to pay for his ouleham
ifitigiiii aniliTivana at the Fortress,
perhaps the Government might consent to
arrest and bold him for treason, - but other;
wite_tve_sbould-nbject-t-grauting--him — an - y --
such favors.
Hard Co Believe
The editor of "harpers Draiver" tells
this story, which we think is almost too tough
to credit. We give it, however for the
- Wnefit of others more credulous.
A gentleman of' festive tastes,
who takes a "fair shake" of all the obtainable
.leasures of the town last_wea
Il_assisted_at—tt—
heavy dinner, took much potable, and did
not leave for home until ever so•many o'clock.
On reaching his door•steeps and fishing up
hie night.key, he became satisfied that ho was
esscentially conviviulized, and rwi preeiseb_in
that condition which a good husband should
be in to meet a good toile. Cautiously enter.
ing the hall, he stopped, listened a. moment,
heard no noise, and oongratulntcd himself
that the family wore asleep. Quietly__ho___
took off light, slowly ascended stairs to faro.
ily beilroom, hesitated at door, believed be
was reasonable right, stealthily entered,
found gas- low, wife appearently asleep,
thought she was asleep, sat down, listened
again no stir; began to undress; got coat,
vest, pants, drawers, stockings all safely_ o 11;
wasjourneying carefully toward couch when
the wife of his bosom qnCittly asked;
"Coming to bed, dear?"
"Yes love."
"Well, dear hadan't you bettor take off
your hat?"
CIVIL WOUTII OF TILE Tuil
needelt--to wipe off the grim and sweat of
labor; to refresh by change of apparel, to re•
store and invigorate the body, exhausted by
labor; to enliven the mind by change of
thought and by this, to fit laboring mon for
for the renewing toils of the week.
2. Capital needs the Sabbath—to alleviate,
by intermission, the care of accumulation; to
ease the nnbending of the strained and ex
hausted miud; to givb a sense of the • value
of nobler objects than silver and gold; to
keep men's humanity and conscientiousness
alive; to shield capital from harm by secure
ly the power of law and 'order in society.
8. The State needs the Sabbath—t) il
lumine the publio conscienae (that guardian
of the public safety), to cause men to reeog
nine the Eternal Lawgiver, as well as to hon
or the earthly 'powers that lie;' t o scour
the moral atmosphere in a community which
is the only support of law.
The Golden Rule tootles us to do unto
others as we would have others do unto us.
At the same time it teaches us not to expect
from our neighbors what we' would not be•
willing, in similar circumstances, to do for
them. :Little George's colloquy with his
mother illustrates the principle.
'Now, George, you must divide the_cake
honorably with your brother Merles'
7 - 'What is honorable, mother?'
'lt means that you must give him • the lar
gest piece''
'Then mother, I'd rather Charles shoat'
divide it.
A lady was examining an applicant for
the office of "maid . of all work," when she
interrogated-her as ,fellows, "Well, Mary,
can you scour tinware with alacrity?" "No,
ma'am," replied Diary, "I always scour 'em
with sand."
A detehman, who in a fit of passion was
swearing. terribly, was reproved by a church
deacon, who ch local to overhear him.
4 Why do you sweat so, Hans?' said the
deacon; Akin% you know that is very wick
ed?'
'Yaw, I knows it peso wicked.' i
'Do you know,' said the deacon, anxious
to sound tho depth of' his religious teaching
'do you know who died to save drums?'
'Yaw, Cot died to PDV99 'CM!
NOLA, exactly, flans, but' the Son 'of
Cod.'
•Sol' exclaimed liana, a now light break
ing in upon Lim; 'vas it one of do pops?—
finial all de vile it vos de ola man.'
• There is a dog in Edinburg which, for
eight and a half years, has kept nightly watch
over the grave of his master in the Old Grey
friars' churchyard. All endeavors to induce
him to relinquish his vigils have been una
vailing, even in theinostinelement weather.
He roams about by day and is fed by people
who hnve become interested in bis remarka
his Fidelity,
A long Hine ago, a Ittiiii . fiai;twelva yaws
old, DO his way to - Venni:itty ktopped at a
country tavern, Mad paid &fide lodging 'and
breakfast by sawing wood instewi of asking
it as a gift. Fifty yearwlater the same boy
passed the same little ilia as George Peabody,
the banker.
.v. "re.arb