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_
...-----......... ....___Ammoi
• 4
OLUMR XX - •
----- _........i............
1 Th e Cruelty of Wfr
oefore you
The eilorts of Louis Sohade
, .
... on the - bar and de- eel, to w hi tewas h the mew
,;sonville jailor, has bre'' ,
- .• •
,-- .. - -.-- - ... -or brandy and water. Ask
. - 11 6.... < - - 4..c
testimony from an e
. - - A - r,-1.. ) . 1.c... ~a.:- . .. -.sett if twenty-five cents can not be bet
. ;..
~
__„,--...-r-,..-. : . -- ... - -.4. .-.% •
e•f: - "- - W.l '..:N--..- -- -o.:*'..t . --.4. ter invested in something else. Put it back L. J. Perry, of t'
''/ . .N.:-7* - :, , , z!.'" - : f-.-%., 1 , , • ,",Tii,: , =(-? - Lind he will in your pocket; and give it to the little trip- ? i on , who Eer"
'mai nese into your pie who sells matches on the corner. Take cei i n th e '
..., a you succeed in making a our word for it you will not be sorry! the P
,.alte impression? Wait madam-think twice before you de- c o
Accordingly, Mrs. and Miss Parker were cide on that hundred dollar shawl! A bun- '
...,.., ms'am-I attired in their best that afternoon, as the _d_red_dollafs_is_a_great-deal-,of-money; , r
_„auy Dow,- arrt - tlre=bolls , •o - r
-opened - and the two - gentlemen - came - in - dollar is a great deal, when people one"
r _. 'tinging: I'll see that the work -Mr. Parker tall and thin with green epecta- sider the amount of good it will a" -
cone after I return.' glen and a caiaverons countenance, and Mr. in careful hands. Your hasher . '
~,
Mrs. Putter's gray eyes sparkled baleful. Elliott a portly, brown faced man, with fiery is, uncertain; there is a finer
ty,
black eyes and a mobile mouth, but partially at hand. Who knows •
atistane's fret rain
ly.
`Take off your things, Miss, and remain at concealed by heavy gray moustache. dollars may be to yo , -
riothing to me tha dark day's pail.
..,.- or
home. I've had quite enough of this run- 'Delighted to see you lam sure, Mr. El. Wait, husband
i nir , tg to church i and this shall be the last of liott,' said Mrs. Parker, sweetly, while Miss w hy y onr w if,-
t Angelina courtesied nearly to the floor.- cares and '
'Pray take the easy chair!' mother
,Yes, yes, I-I dare say,' sputtered the we .
East Indian, beginning a nervous' trot up
and down the room; 'but I don't want to r
down. Parker don't keep me in sus
any longer.' .
Mrs Parker looked at her hue
prise. Mr. Parker was polio'
And Mrs. Parker stalked out of the damp, tacks.
mouldy kitchen, with the air of a tragedy 'My dear, here's a
queen, while Minnie sat down among the things-very lade"
pots and pans and cried_ bitterly.
__During
_making inquire
_
all her trials and tribulations the sweet sun- only sister )-
shine of the Sabbath day had cast its light sight of
through all the dreary ensuing week-it bad him.
been something to look forward to, to think P :
of, to anticipate- Now its gentle influent.-
was withdrawn roughly and abruptly.
Minnie felt that she was indeed along
—• .l - - - Minnie - was - austirrg - r
the-parlo
next morning, as Miss A"
sauntered into the parlor •
wrapper.
. •Mamma,' she d
eny parasol dot.-
' can't Minn;
'lt's y
douY
E -
---------
Cheerily labor;
n
ti
is
in
'll k
le
sh
•ar
t
he
on,
ittl
as
on
h
4 el
/l a
it
if,
I lo'
t
el
or
he
cr
'lu
d
:te
I.
y
et
:al
I li
- id
rt
I Ii
I"OO3III I rMiCI.EILMA.
SOONER O 1 LATER.
(
Sool'erur later the storms shall beat
Over m slumber, from head to feet
Sooner or later the wind*. ehall rave
rn the tong greee above my grace.
I shall not heed them where I lie,
—Nothing-thee sound shall signify,
Nothing the headstone's fret or rain
Nothing to me the dark day's pail.
Sooner or later the sun shalt rhino
With tender warmth on that mound of mine;
Sooner or later, in summer au,
Clover and violet blossom there,
I shall not feel in that deep•laid rest,
The sheeted light fall over my breast,
Nor ever note in thPse hidden hours • ••
The wind-blown breath of the tossing flowers.
'Sooner or later the bee shall come
And fill the morn with his golden hum;
Sooner or later on half paused wing
The blue-bird's warble about me ring.—
liirg and chirr up and whistle with glee,
Nothing his music means to rne, .
None of those beautiful things shall know
How soundly their lover sleeps below.
Sooner or later, far out in the night,
he stars slial2 ovdr nie - wing - th - eirliig
Sooner or later my darkling dews
Catch the white spark in their silent one
Never a ray shall part the gloom
That wraps me round in the kindly tomb.
Peace shall be perfect for lip and brow .
Sooner or later,—Oh, why not now!
WO - tic - White you crih—
Time's flitting by;
Gather, the moments,
Quickly they fly,
Workmen are few,
Large is the harvest,
There's plenty to do;
The enemy soweth
Tares in the field.
Thistles and thorns
Both the wilderness yield,
Oast with a bzunteoue
And plentiful hand,
Seeds that shall cover
--The length of the land.
Work while you can,
And work while you may;
Soon the, night cometh,
Soon passeth the day.
~, _ • - ~
MINNIE, THE ORPHAN
It was a large, light room, with half a doz.
maps banging around the walls, and a few
iff backed chairs ranged in geometrical prc
3ion--a room with not one home association
!goring in any of its four corners. You
ight have told with on e glance at its
tardy swept green carpet and coldly pol
led, ourtainless windows, that it was the
rlar of a public institution; and so indeed
was.
The brisk and spectacled little matron of
orphan asylum sat leaning back in her
,fortable rocking chair, while four or five
de girls, with closely cut hair and down-
It eyes, stood in a row before her, their
.g blue aprons and flaxen' light hair giving
o m an odd resemblance to 'a row of blue
lls in a flower garden; while Mrs. Philo
irker, in her rustling robes, of golden green
lk, and the cherry colored bonnet strings,
ght have passed for a gaudy and full
, wo specimen of the tribe peony.
'I think she'll answer my purpose very
I,' said Mrs. Parker. 'What did you say
• name was—Minnie?'
Minnie Grove. Step forward, child,' said
matron, nodding encouragingly at a slend
little creature of about thirteen, whose
le eyes were dilated, and her cheek blanch
with a sort of • shy terror. And Minnie
Jpped forward und( r the full fire of Mrs.
arker's searching gray eyes.
hope she hasn't any. relationd.' went on
Its. Parker. 'I never want a girl with for
uncles and aunts and cousins, running af
r her the whole time!'
'You will have no trouble in that respect,'
id the matron with a sigh, dont think
;mile has a soul belonging to her in the
le world. Her mother died in great pov
cy three years :mein New York, and
Annie knows nothing whatever about her
self, poor child.'
'That's just as it should be, 'said Mrs.
• arker, with n self satisfied air. 'Poor peo
ple have no business to have any relations.
Well, I guess I'll take her.'
You will be kind to the poor little orphan,
ma'am,' said the matron, wistfully.
'Of course I shall,' said Mrs. Parker, toss
ing the cherry Colead ribbons. 'She *ill
have the best °f lames in my family.'
'I should like toTheveler go to church at
least onceevery Sunday, and—=
"To he; sure-4o be sure,' _said Mrs. Park
er, rising, as if "she did net inire' te 'prolong
the conversation. 'She shall have avery op
portunity; I hope yon don't take me for a
heathen. Is that child crying? I hope she
isteL6no Of th.e ,whimperir kind! -
The platrpn r q cheeklin c' shed , a little a
whispered one or tWo cheering words .to
Die.
IVAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNING, , JUNE 7, 1867.
And so Minnie Groves little pucel was
packed, and her pink colored sunbonnet tied
on, and i she meekly followed MT& Parker out
of the wide gateway that had f3Leltered her
orphanage so long.
'Minnie?'
'What are you doing this morning? Why
haven't you cracked the nuts, and polished
the stove, and cleaned the ashes out of the
parlor grate, when you know we're going to
have company for dinner.'
should be late at church, ma'am--I
atm -e - rndylrEr - g - otready now,- aird - th - e=bells
have stopped ringing: I'll see that the work
is done after I return.'
Mrs. Paaker's gray eyes sparkled baleful.
ly.
'Take off your things, Miss, and remain at
home. I've had quite enough of this run
ning to ehureh i and this shall be the last of
it'
Minnie's cheek flushed and then grew
pale.
`But Mrs. Parker, you promised—'
don't care what I promised., You are
indentured to me until you are eighteen
years old, and I intend you shall earn your
own living. Not, another word, but obey
me!'
And Mrs. Parker stalked out of the damp,
mouldy kitchen, with the air of a tragedy
queen, while Minnie sat down among the
pots and pans and cried bitterly. During
all her trials and tribulations the sweet sun
shine of the Sabbath day had cast its light
through All the dreary ensuing week—it had
been something to look forward to, to think
of, to anticipate• Now its gentle influence
was withdrawn roughly and abruptly, and
Minnie felt that she was indeed alone.
-- Mirrnie - wa a - dusting - th e - p or-etairti-tb-e
-next morning, a s Miss Angeline Parker
sauntered into the parlor in a tumbling silk
wra roper.
•Mamma,' she drawled. languidly, left
my parasol down at Water's on Saturday.—
can't Minnie go after it?'
'lt's raining,' said Mrs. Parker, looking
doubtfully out of the window, 'but—s
qt isn't rai nin-very-hard--andl-ma-iffaid
it will be stolen' -
'Minnie,' said Mrs. Parker, ant - hora,tively,
put on your hat and stall, and go to Water's
lace store at once for Miss Angeline's—par-a
sol.'
Minnie glanced out at the driving torrent
of rain with sinking heart.
`lf I might wait until after the shower;
ma'am,' she pleaded in a low voice.
`Obey me this instant,' ejaculated Mrs.
Parker, with an imperative stamp of her
foot. ----
So minnie went.
- said Angeline, a day or two af
terward, didn't sleep two winks last night
with Minnie's coughing. 1 do wish you
would put a stop to it.'
',Minnie! exclaimed Mrs. Parker, turning
around to the pale young girl, who was pol
ishinc, the windowl,:what do you mean by
disturbing Miss Angeline?
'lndeed, ma'am, I could not help it, s falter,
ed poor Minnie, but my cough was very bad
indeed. got so drenched with the rain the
other day that—'
'Poo—nonsense! its all affectation, every
bit of it,' said Mrs. Parker, petulantly--
'The idea of putting on airs, and pretending
to he an invalid—but I'll not endure any
such trumpery. Don't let us have occasion
to complain again.'
All that weary night Minnie tossed to and
fro, trying to stifle her hectic oough in the
scant pillow, lest Miss Angelle's 'pampered
slumbers should be disturbed, and wonder
ing if all the world was as joyless and
dreary as the brief glimpse she had of
it.
'When she rose in the morning, pale and
unrested, with dark circles round her eyes,
and a dizzyfeeling in her brain, the snow
was piled high against the attic window
panes, and the wind was shrieking in shrill
gusts down the street.
'Minnie! Minnie!' echoed Mrs. Parker's
sharp, discordant voice up the stairway, 'get
your broom and the snow shovel and clear
the snow of the sidewalk. Those loafing
men charge a quarter for doeing it, and you
may as well save the money for me. Come,
make haste'?
'lt's my cold ma'am,' pleaded poor Mo
nk., 'and my head aches terribly.'
'Stuff' , exclaimed Mrs. Parker. 'I won't
have any fine lady airs, the fresh air is all
you want. Be quick, now, and you'll finish
before it's time to set breakfast table.'
Half an hour _subsequently, Mrs. Parker
was started by a brisk peal of her front door
bell.
'Well vat's wanting now?' she demanded,
putting her pink cap ribbons gingerly into
the snow. 'Bids' Me, whats the rem ter?'
A stalwart
,policemen stood there, his
hat and shoulders thickley powdered with
snow, and drooping a figure supported in his
arms.
'IV atter? your girl's fainted away, or
something. It is II shame to send - such a
white faced thing out into a storm like this.'
And Mrs. Parker took.poor Minnie in, se
cretly gnashing her teeth at the idea of a
bound girl having mortal frailty 'and weak
ness. Truly, it was a groat presumption.
'What a pity that Minnie should take it
into her ridiculous head to be sick at such a
time as this,'-groaned Mrs. Parker as she
took out her silver and cut glass for the dec
oration of a gala dinnertable. 'And that
rich East India client of your father's . com
ing to, dinner, too.'
'lsn't Minnie any better to day?' asked
Angeline yawning.
'N 0. 4 I„supposo not; any way she won't get
up.
-- 'Maw!' said Angeline, spitefully,- 'she's
as well as I am, if she only chose to say so.'
'Your father was saying something about
getting a doctor tf ehe didn't get better.'
'Fiddlestick!' said - Miss Angell. 'A -doe
tor,-indeed! it's only that she likes lying in
bed batter than- working. Alamma, what
dress shall I wear? It's a"great dime that
Minnie can't curl my hair forme'
'Put on your blue silk, Angelle, with tho
white lace trimming; it is so becoming to
your fair hair and delicate complexion.—
Those old bachelors aye unaeconntable croa•
tures, and there is no saying but that he will
put the whole of his business into your
father's hands if you succeed in making a
favorable impression.'
& Accordin g ly, Mrs. and Miss Parker were
attired in their best that afternoon, as the
o - -r's= Td 7 rod-the tr :1
far-opened-and-the two - gentlemen ame - in
—Mr. Parker tall and thin with green specta
cler and a cadaverous countenance, and Mr.
Elliott a portly, brown faced man, with fiery
black eyes and a mobile mouth, but partially
concealed by heavy gray moustache.
'Delighted to see you I am sure, Mr. El.
liott,' said Mrs. Parker, sweetly, while Miss
Angeline. courtesied nearly to the floor.—
'Pray take the easy chair!'
,Yes, yes, I—l dare say,' sputtered the
East Indian, beginning a nervous' trot up
and down the room; 'but I don't want to sit
down. Parker don't keep me in suspense
any longer.' .
Mrs Parker looked at her husband in sur
prise. Mr. Parker was polishing his spec
taeles.
'My dear, here's a very singular state of
things—very indeed, Mr. Elliott has been
making inquiries, sinee_his_return, -after an
only sister he had somehow managed to loose
sight of—married against his wishes, I be
lieve—and he learns that she died in this
city about five years ago, in very indigent
circumstances—'
'How very sad!' sighed Mrs. Parker, 'a
daughter who was sent, to the Medbrook
0 - r - p - b — aTC glum." — -
Mrs. Parker opened her gray eyes extreme
ly wide.
'And who was named Minnie—or Mary
—Grove.'
'Minnie Grove!' ejaculated Mrs. Parker in
a sort of scream.
'Our Minniel'. echoed Miss Angelic
'And now,' interrupted the choleric stran
ge-rlbTnaging Eis — foot down emphatically; on
the velvet tulips and lilies of the hearth rug,
'I. want my niece Minnie—Where Is eller
Mrs. Parker stood rooted to the floor in
iisemnfltureand-amazernent, while Angeline
tank back on the sofa, not forgetting to be as
picturesque as possible in the midst of her
dismay and chagrin.
'I say where is she?' roared the- East In
dian, want my neice,' •
She—she isn't feeling very well to:day,
faltered Mrs, Parker, 'and she is up in her
own room. I advised her to rest awhile!
'Then take me to her.'
• 'Yes—but I'm not exactly sure—that is,
I think she ought to be kept perfectly: qui•
et,' stammered M rs. Parker, thinking of poor
Minnie's carpetless floor and rickety cot bed,
with a thrill of apprehension.
'Perfectly fiddlestick! I tell you I will see
my niece! Parker show me the way to her
room, or find it myself.'
Mrs. Parker looked apppcalingly to her
husband, but that gentleman's sharp legal
eye saw ne outlet of escape.
- 'My dear, show Mr.:•Eiliott up,' he said
meekly, and Mrs. Parker bad no choice but,
to obey.
It was a dismal little attic room, with a
sloping roof and one• dormer window, half.
hidden with high piled snow, And upon a
narrow cot bed, entirely alone, lay the only
relative that Walter Elliott, the wealthy
East Indian, could claim in all the wide
world.
She did not - turn her head as they enter
ed. Mrs. Parker approached the bedside
with an insinuating voice.
'Minnie. dear—are you asleep?'
Asleep—yes she was asleep, but it was
that deep, dreamless sleep that knows no wa
king to mortal trials and sorrows?'
'Good heavens!' shrieked Mrs. Parker, re
coiling, 'she is dead?'
'Dead!' screamed Miss Angeline.
'Dead!' sternly repeated Walter Elliot,
gowing very pale. 'Dead! and in this hole!'
„It can't be possible!' exclaimed Mrs Parker.
`lt must be a mistake!'
But there was no possibility of mistaking
the seal of the great Destroyer upon that
white forehead, and .around the marble lips.
Walter Elliott's wealth had come too lave.
SolitarYand unfriended. Minnie Grove bad
passed into the land 'where God's children
shall never more say 'l'm alone'
She was buried under the most - gorgeous
mausoleum that gold could purchase, with a
chisled marble ,iugel bending over her dust,
as if it mattered how or where she was laid
to rest. And Walter Elliott wont back to
the tropics without placing his business in
to Mr. Parker's hands. -
'You have murdered my niece!' he said
sternly, en the various reports of Minnie's
wretc cl life reached his ears—reports V.iat
wou d not be suppressed in spite of Mrs.
Parke Is endeavors to still the tongue Of pop
ular g ssip,
T s ended the brief f sad life of Minnie,
le orphan.. Would to Heaven there were
not too many such lives in our midstl
During the summer -of 1864, while the
hospitals in Richmond were crowded with
wounded, the ladies of the city •visited them
daily, carrying with thorn delicacies of every '
description, and vied with each other to com
fort and cheer up the wounded. Qa one oc-i
casino a bright eyed damsel, of about seven-` 1
teen summers was distributing flowers and ,
saying tender words of encouragement to
those around her, when she observed a young
officer who was suffering from his wounds es,
claim, 'O, my Lord!' Approaching timidly,
pin order to rebuke his profanity, she said,
, 4 1 think_ I heard you call on the name of the
ii--t-he
1 Lord,
..I am one of his daughters, I re
I anytbintjeati ask him for you?'. Gland
I hastily** her lovely face and perfect for
ltfe repr - ,I.Yes i
lb deas° ask him to make me
his stota - - ler
Jolinlii'ight is cr.ninin to America.
Wait!
Wait a moment, young man, before you
throw that money down on the - bar and de
mand a glass of brandy and water. Ask
yourself if twenty-five cents can not be bet
ter invested in something else. Put it back
in your pocket; and give it to the little crip
ple who sells matches on the corner. Take
our word for it you will not be sorry!
Wait madam—think twice before you de
cide on that hundred dollar shawl! A hun
_dred_dollafs_is_a_great—deal-,of—money;,,one
dollar is a great deal, when people once con
sider the amount of good it will accomplish,
in careful hands. Your husband's business
is uncertain; there is a financial _crisis__close
at hand. Who knows what that hundred
dollars may be to you yet?
Wait, husband, before you wonder audibl3
why your wife don't get along with family
cares and household responsibilities, '.as your
mother did." §he is doing her best—and no
woman can endure that bst to be slighted.
Remember the nights she sat u with the
little babe that died; remember ti e love an.
care she bestowed on you when ye had th:
long fit ofillness! Do you think she %
of cast-iron? Wait—wait in silence and for
bearance, and the light will come back to
her eyes, the old light of the old days!
Wait wife, before you speak reproachfully
to your husband when he comes home late,_
and weary, andmotiFo ff ts . — He has wet.•
ked for you all day long; he has wrestled,
hand to hand, with Care, and Selfishness,
and Greed, and all the'demons that follow in
the train of money making. Let home be
another atiaoephere entirely, let him feel
that there is one place in the world where he
_can_fi n d-peace,an-d-quie t-a nd—perfeet — level -
Wait, bright young girls, before you arch
your pretty eyebrows, and whisper 'old maid'
as the quiet figure steals by, with silver in
its hair and crow's feet round the eyes., It
is hard enough to lose fife's gladness, elas
tioity—h is hard enough to see youth drift
ing away without adding to the bitter cup one
drop, of scorn! You who do not know what
_sh sales-en dure d r you-nover-e an—k novr—utrtil - -
experience teaches you, so wait; before you
sneer_at the aldilaid.
Wait, sir, before you add a billiard room
to your house, and buy the fast horse that
Black and White and all the rest of 'the fel
lows' covet. Wait, and think whether your
outstanding bills are all paid and your liabil
ities fully met, and all the chances and cham:
ges of life duly provided for. Wait, and ask
yourself how you would like ten years• from
now, to see your fair wife struggling with
poverty,your children shabby and want strick
en, and yourself a miserable hanger on round
corner groceries and one horse gambling sa
loons. You think that is impossible; do you
remember what Hazie said to the seer of old:
'ls thy servant a dog that ho should do this
thing?'
Wait, merchant, before you tell the . pale
faced boy from the country 'that you can do
nothing for him.' You can do something for
him; you can give him a word of encourage—
ment, a word of advice. There was a time
once, when you were young, arid poor, and
friendless! Have you forgotten it already?
Wait, blue eyed lassie, wait awhile before
you say 'yes to the dashing poling fellow who
says he can't live wi;hout you. Wait un
til you have ascertained 'for sure and for
certain' as the children say, that the cigar,
and the wine bottle,
and the card table are
not to be your rivals in his breast, a. little de
lay won't hurt him,
whatever he may say
—just see if it will!
And wait my friend in the brown mous
tache; don't commit yourself to Laura Ma
tilda, until you ate you arc sure that she will
be kind to your old mother, and gentle with
your little sisters, and a true, loving wifa to
you instead Of a mere puppet who lives on
the breath of fashion and excitement and re
cords the-sunny side of Broadway as second
only to Elysium! As a general thing, peo
ple are in a great hurry in this world; we
say, wait, wand—Phrenological Journal.
DEATII SENTPNCE IN ENGLAND.—The
progress from barbarism to civilization does
not show itself in British jurisprudence
Tbe sentence pronounced on Burke and Do
ran, the condcraned Fenians, thus_report•-
ed:------- •
'The Chief Justice, addressing the prison
ers, said: Thomas F. Burke and Patrick Do
ran, aftet' a protracted and careful investiga
tion into your respective cases by a jury
whose patience was unwearied, you have been
found guilty, and you are now called on to
receive the last sentence of th-c law for the
highest crime known to the law, that of high
treason against the queen. Nothing, indeed
remaias for me but to perform the sad and
painful duty imposed upon me by law, and
that duty is to pronounce the sentence which
cannot change or alter. (His lordship here
put on the black cap.) That sentence is that
you and each of you shall be taken from the
place where you now stand to the place from
whence you came, and that on Wednesday,
the 29th day of this month of May, you be
drawn on a hurdle from that place to the
place of execution, and that there you and
.-each of you shall be hanged by the neck until
yen are dead, and that afterwards the head
of each of you shall be severed - tim the bo
dy, and the body of each of you divided into
four quarters, shall be disposed of as her ma
jesty and her Executive shall think fit, and
may the Lord God Almighty have mercy on
your souls. (His lordship here appeared
deeply affected, and many persona it. the
court shed tears.')
'The sound of your hammer,' says Frank
lin, 'at Dye in the morning, or at nine at
at night, heard by a creditor, makes bim
easy six'months longer - , but if be sees you
at a billiard table, or bears your voice at a
tavern, when you:should be at work, he *ends
fur bia money the next day.
The coast of' Russian America to us e tak
a tho vr,hcle teTrieaty, is almt threo cents
lata,
The Cruelty of Wirz.
• The eilorts of Louis Sehade, Wire's coun
sel, to whitewash the memory of the Ander
sonville jailor, has brought out some strong
testimony from an eye. witness of his cruelties
L J. Perry, of the Waupaeca (Wis.) Crite
rion, who served as a non-commissioned offi
cer in the Second Wisconsin, in the Army of
the Potomac, was taken prisoner and confin
ed at Andersonville, writes in his paper as
follows; •
war we had the - tnisfAune to Le
captured by the rebels, and served as a pris
oner twenty months, during the greater part
of which time we were in the hands of the
-demorrwirorn - they - (the) b - el papers), Wd
by Sande, are making a martyr of. • During
that horrible blank in our life we saw this
man knock down and stamp upon snit Union
prisoners, who were too weak to get out 'of
his way; we saw and heard him order a reb
el guard to fire at a group of Union prisoners
which order was obeyed, by which means a
Union soldier was maimed for life by the loss
of a leg; we saw him once manacle two men
together and then whip one of them with a
riding whip. until the man could not stand;
we saw four men shot dead, coolly and deal,-
(irately, by rebel guards under his orders,
who were murdered without cause; we saw
during the twenty months, not less than fif
y 4.d -bodies-of-brother-Union - soldiers
murdered; we have heard Wirz, at Rich
mond, order anci`even urge his guards - to - kill
every prisoner tbcy could,plausibly;we heard
him say more than a hundred times that e-'1
very d—d Yankee prisoner in the South
ought to be hung; we know that his watch
words were kill, slay, destroy,and__lait,—but-1
not least, while those thirty thousand wretch
ed beings were literally starving at Ander
sonville during the months of July and Au
gust, 1864, his expressions of demoniac de
light were often heard. We heard him say at
that time, if the North could be whipped by
starving prilioners, he could put a quietus
to thirty thousand in short meter.
All this and numberless_ather_acta,-Whie ,
convinced us all that he was a cruel, relent
less, blond-thirsty'inan, and that human suf.
fednge an ivation .was w. at y e iveL up
on.
Republicanism.
In the early days of christianity the disci
ples of our meek and lowly Saviour--twelve
in number--gathered together in an upper
chamber at Jerusalem to engage in Bennet
prayer and worship, for, in those days, to
acknowledge ones-self a christian was shure
to draw down upon them the indignation of
the worshippers of idols. Years have passed
since then. and the example of those disci
pies have been followed up, and the influence
has led to the christianizing and civilizing
the world. In every land beneath the sun
the benign influence of christianity is felt
and thousands, yea millions, are brought be
neathTts potent power.
So gas it been with Republicanism in this
country. A few men at the North, censid
ered as fanatics, and afraid to pass beyond
the limits of their State, knowing their lives
were in jeopardy, at first conthipneed the agi
tation of Inertial rights and privilges; but now
their iutluenceis felt throughout the length
and bredth of this vast country. It has o
verleaped,all Varrieri made by sin and slavery,
and to-day it stands as the acknowlenged
fundamental principles- that underlie this
government. It has been assailed at every
point, and sometimes its success seemed doubt
ful, but its sublime truths soon dispelled the
thick, gloom and caused it 'to shine all the
brighter for its being enveloped in murky
darkness. Gradually has it sped on its
course, converting everything within its
reach beneath its benign influences. Its ed
dying circles were weak and feeble at first,
but each succeeding wave only served to in
crease its power, until it stands as the cham
pion of those inseperable fell destroyers, cop
perheadistu, and treason.
Too Good to Keep
We were much amused a few evonir.gs
'since, by hearing Mr.—, a life lone
' Democrat, and for years a_slaie to — drink:
1 1 butfertwenty miniths past a radical temper
ance man, tell the following ;incident which
happene - d a few days ago:
He was sitting in his office conversing
with several of his friends when the door o
pened and Mr.—, a rigid old Democrat,
same in. The •usual compliments passed,
when the latter gave Mr a slight
nudge and winked him'out to the back door,
when cautiously peering around to see that
no one was observina" them, be drew from
the deep recesses of his pocket, a pint flask,
which bore the appearance of having been
- several times visited, and asked him to drink.
'No,' replied a, do not drink.'
'You are a—liar,' said Mr.
pledge you my_word,' returned 11., 'that
I have not drank a drop for over twenty
month,
'ls that so?'
'lt is, and now am a tnember"of the Good
Templar Lodge in this place!
For a moment a look of blank astonish
ment came over the countenance of the old
Democrat, which gave way to one of anguish
as he eaid:
'ls it possible that you live left the Dem
ocratic party?' ' ' •
Mr. 11. is still a strong Democrat but,
thinks the above to good to keep.
friierregpondent wants to .know :why. an
old maid is like a sucked arrange, and then
has the assurance to answer by saying, 'Be
cause neither of .thim worth squecsing.,;,
A lady who was married on Friday,
,when
asked why she consummated such important
business on such an unlucky day, responded
that she had been married on every - other
day in the 'week, and had always made .eurth
a poor fist of it, that she concluded to test
hangman's day,. hoping the halter wouldn't
slip this limo.
The Winter of the Heart.
A beautik writer counsels wisely when ho
says: 'Live so that good angels.way protect
you from this terrible evil—the winter of the
heart. Lot no chilling influence freeze up the
fountains of sympathy and happiness in its
depths; no cold burden settle over whithered
hopes, like thi3 snow on faded flowers; no
rude blast of discontent moan and shriek
through its desolated chambers. Your life
-path-may-lead throughlrials, which - for a time
seemed utterly to impede your progress, and
shut out the very light of heaven from your
anxious gaze. Penury may take the place of
ease and plenty; your-lax-urious—reom may
be changed for an bumble one, the soft couch
for a straw pallet; the rich viands far the
coarse food of the pour. Summer friends may
forsake you,and the.cold unpitying world pass
you with scarcely a look or word of compas
sion. 'You may be forced to toil wearily
steadily on to carp a livelihood; you may en
counter fraud and the base avarice that would
extort the last farthing, till you well-nigh
turn in disgust from your fellow beings, Death
may sever the dear ties that bind you to earth,
and leave you in tearful darkness. That no
ble, manly boy, the sole hope of your deelin- -
ing years, may be taken from you while your
spirit clings to him with a wild tenacity,
which even the skadovi_of-t he—tomb--eann o
wholly subdue. - Amid all these sorrows do
not come to the conclusion that nobody was
ever so deeply of lieted as• you are, and aban
don every anticipation of 'better days' in the '
unknown future. Do no'. lose your faith in
human' excellence, because confidence has
sometimes been betrayed, nor believe that
- .
rkeniship - was only a deltTion, and love a
bright phantom which glides away from our
grasp. Do not think that you are Luta to ha
miserable, because you are disappointed iu
your expectations, and Wiled in your pur
suits. Do not declare that God has forsaken
you when your way is hedged about with
thorns, or repine sinfully when he'ealls your
dear ones to the land beyond the • rave.—
"-eepr-a- •1y - trust in heaven through every
trial; bear adversity
-with fortitude, and look
u s wards in hours of tem tation and_suffeting
When your locks are white, your eyes are
dim, and your limbs weary; when your steps
falter on the :verge of death's gloomy vale,
still retain the freshness and buoyancy 'of
spirit which will shield you from the winter
of the heart'
Uncle Sam's Possessions.
—The London Telegraph—a paper devoted
to the rebels in our late war—in its issue
of Dec. 15th has'"good words" for the lan
kees, It, speaks of, the Tories of ngland
acing "miserable because America is big,"
and says: "The real reason why they hate
,0
her is because her Government is so free,
and the success of its wonderful." And
speaking of the 'patriotic imagery' and hyp
erbolics' used by the American Telegraph
says:
'And if bigness justifies big words, we
should like to know who is to blame the:3c
inventive and flowery patriots? lies any
other nation forty millions square acres of
fat corn ground for a back-yard, which will
grow six quarters to the acre, as long as you
like to plow the old crop in? has any other
nation mountains o f solid iron t.o make
plows of like Pilot Knob, in Missouri, or seas
of oil under the ground and shores of solid
copper along the lakes? Does any other na
tion double • its population every twenty
years and suck in the emigration of Europa
without counting it; or carry cargoess2,ooo"
miles along one river; or venture on the im
pudence of a Monroe doetrine; or fight a war
with a million soldiers, and have them all
home again, like boys after school within a
year? And what other people colleCt a rev
enue of £118,000,000 sterling and with £2O,
000,000 in gold at a time in its Exechequer
laughs at a debt of X 500,000,000, and enga
ges to wipe it out in ten years?'
that
BUG.—Every gardener knows
that this is a most destructive insect among:.
melon, cucumber and other yaUng — vines,
sometimes _damagiag — tba crop seriously.—
Many remedies have been suggested, so.ne of
them no doubt good in their way but troub
lesome. Now we have tried for several
years another which has proved with us a
complete success. Instead of aiming to
drive away the insect by soot, ashes, &c., we
pet it, or rather furnish it with food better
than the young melon and cucumber plants.
We sow around each bill at the time of each
planting a few radish seed, and coming up
about the same time d the tops supply pas.
tare for the bug which it much prefers to
the vines: Lettuce will also answer, but the
radish is rather liked the best, While our
vines aro untouched by making this little
provision for'it, the young radish tops aro
completely perforated. We can recommend
the remedy with confidence.— Gerntaneozan
Telegraph.
Spain although three centuries ago one of
the lendinpZposvers in Europe, is now the
raest,backward in all that concerns progress
ive enterprise and education. In this respect
even Turkey is in advance of her; for the
Turkish children—so the missionaries say,—
can road and write. But in Spain, out of
a population of seveiracen millions, only three
million, can read and write. Yet the priest,
hood number no less than 125,000. If the
enemas sums that are expended in the sup
port of clergy were devoted to the education
of the masses, that country would •be raised
from its degradation, and take its place is
the ranks with Protestant nations. The
wealth of the priesthood is very great and
displays itself in costly churches and con
vents, white . anything like a common school
system is disequraged. A free peas '4lOO
exigt, and adeotirits have recentlf reached
US 'of the imprisonment of ttuce editors for
the expression of liberal opinions.
,iTay,t!nAjteen setnu at. eigt ty . ., dollars *
'ton . ai ,:k111.11.);ta, Ga.,' and ilardirh n'y - to b,
had at that pelue. ..; • %.
V) 'Zoe%
MIBER 48