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For The Mariettian.
THE DREAM 01' THE YEAR
By Grantoiltts
(T/IF. THIRD QUAII±EIt.)
'Twos seated on a mossy bank
Beneath the harvest moon
That on this earthly pilgrimage
.1 1 4 inmost thoughts commune.
And as the twinkling stars shone out
caught their blinking rays,
As upward from the glassy stream
'Their images did gaze.
Down in the woody copse below
'The brilliantfire-fly
In myriad scintillations cast
Their beauties to the eye.
But high above the tall tree top
And high above the cloud
Etherial beings to and fro
Where moving in% crowd.
And one rode out from all the rest
Upon a rampant Lion
Be seemed to be of natures lords
A most, imposing scion,
Around his sweaty brow was wreath'd
The ripening ears of corn.
His right arm bore the summer fruits
His left the green hawthorn.
Stern was his look and sere his breath
As Africa's Simoon,
Behind him hung in reeking gore
The head of vanquished Jane.
And then amosig the timid host
There rose a feeble cry,
' 4 Ye mortals of the thirsty earth
-Make way for " Hot July."
And as he passed in pride unguised,
One more majestic came,
To fill the measures of my dream—
The seasons shifting train,
He bore the full grownstocks of maize
As soldiers bear a lance.
And in his wake an elfin band
In sportive glee did prance,
The spicy melon and the pear
In colors rich as gold, •
They offered at mulsummera shrine,
1 . In numbers all untold.
A red robe hung in ample folds
Around a form most robust,
'llls bhield was blazoned with a name
That indicated August.
And as he and his train passed by
A dark and cloudy screen,
They ushered in a mature maid
That looked a very queen,
Attended by two urchins, who
A Cornucopia bore,
Filled with the early products of
The mellow autumn's store.
.A.,cormiet of dahlias
Set on her snowy brow,
Entwined among her golden hair
The rich verbenias glow.
The lifelong grape in purple sheen
In Clusters rich and tender,
Were scattered in profusion by
The genius of September.
But with benignant smiles she fled,
And wav'd me back
. To earth once more,
And bid me make
On its tame shore
A grassy mound my bed,
But through the relms
Of endless space,
My longing soul
Might run its race
Till heavenward 'twas led.
cir During the late fight near Martins
burg, one of McMullen's Rangers, in his
eagerness to have, as he said, a shot at
the secesh, climbed a tree, from which
he had good aim, and used it to advant
age. When the captain discovered him
overhead, from the crack of his rifle, and
demanded what he was doing there, he
replied, in his peculiar style, " Only
Picking my men, captain.
Judge Jeffries, when on the bench,
told an old fellow with a long beard that
he supposed he had a conscience as long
ps his beard. " Does your lordship," re
plied the old man, " measure consciences
by beards ? If so your lordship has
pone at all l"
ggir There is a man living in the back
woods, who, being invited to a New
Year's dinner, ate so much bear's meat
that he went home and hugged his wife
—a thing be had .never been guilty of
before.
Isir Swinging is aaid by the doctors to
be a good exercise for the health, but
many a poor wretch has come to his
Death by it.
. .
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Proprio - tor..
VOL. 8.
From Peterson's Magazine for November
SUCH A BORE!
BY MARY B. CLARKE
"How many women, Fred?"
"Only three, my mother, sister, and
cousin."
"0 1 Fred, you really must let me oil:
I will go all over the world with you, if
you insist; I will ride, shoot, hunt, do
anything else; but you must not ask me
to go home with you."
"You promised, and I hold you to the
engagement."
"But you said the house was vacant,
and we could go in a shooting dress from
Sunday till Sunday, if we liked, and now
yon threaten me with a regiment of
ladies ; young ones too, who will expect
a fellow to brush his hair, don his dress
suit, and practice all his airs and graces
before he ventures into their presence."
"Well ?" said Fred, with a face full of
futi, "it is time you began. You, are ex
cuse me, a perfect bear. Why don't you
dress like other men ?"
"What ails my dress ?"
"It does well enough for out here in
the country I admit ; but---I never go
to town."
"No ; there's another freak ; you shut
up a fund of social qualities, wit, good
nature, generosity, and hospitality in
this box, and never come out."
"Society is such a bore !"
"You don't seem to object to mine !"
"My dear fellow !" and in his :earnest
ness Harry Gre , ;' sat up on the sofa, up
on which he had been reclining, "I beg
you won't—"
"I dont ! Enough said."
"But really Fred, I did not mean men.
Give me a lot of men ready for bachelor's
hall, independent lives, and the exer
cises of out-door life, and I am ready
for their society ; but women—as you
say, Fred, I am a bear, not fit for the
blessed angles, and I don't mind con
fessing it ; I had rather face a roaring
lion in his native forests than a petticoat
in a parlor."
"Nevertheless, you are going with me.
1 won't come here again to live months
together on your hospitality if you nev
er give me a chance to return it. So if
you will let my mother's unexpected re
turn from the Falls interfere with our
summer's plans, this must be my last
visit to Oakdale."
"Yon don't mean that ?"
"I do."
"My dear boy, I could face all the
women in America, drawn up in battle
array, to prevent such a threat from be
ing fulfilled: lam at your service, and
willlay in any amount of broadcloth and
kid gloves you may think proper for the
occasion."
"Bravo I We start for home then to-
morrow."
"Yes, if you must go, It's a shocking
bore !" and Harry fell back again upon
the sofa, as if the very idea made him
weary. Elis broad, full chest, long limbs,
and large, but well-shaped hands, gave
him, as he lay there, the appearance of
great strength; while his closed eyelids,
listless attitude, and the loose dress he
wore; gave a counter impression of lam
ness. Both signs were true ones. An
orphan, a bachelor, rich and indolent,
Harry Grey had for six years led an
utterly careless life. His estate in Oak
dale afforded good hunting, fishing, and
shooting grounds ; and his house, well
managed by the old colored servant who
was housekeeper and cook in one, was
always open to his old college friends,
who thronged there through the sum
mer months Tor shooting and fishing, and
the winter ones for sleighing and hunt
ing. A well filled stable, richly stock
ed room for guns, fishing-tackle, and
other temptations for the sportsman,
made Oakdale a most desirable resort;
and the hearty welcome of the host, the
perfectly "at home" liberty he extended
to his guests, and the comforts old
Rachel provided for the tables and bed
rooms did not detract from its merits.
Fred Vault was Harry's school-fellow
and college chum. Having studied law,
he was now waiting for clients, and, in
the intervals of office duty, Oakdale of
ten resounded to his hearty laugh and
firm, manly step.
With all his wealth and open hospi
tality Harry Grey was no "fast man."—
The old house might resound with cheer
fal talk, laughter, and music, but it wit
nosed no drunked revels, no gambling,
no quarreling. Cards, if produced, were
unaccompanied by betting ; and the bil
ard-balls knocked together with no large
sums of money depending upon Ow pock
ets they fell iute.
ii alOtptilbtllt tin sentitia afournal for iht Cirtic.
MARIETTA, NOVEMBER 9,1861.
According to their plan, the friends
left Oakdale the following morning, to
drive some ten miles to Mr. VMS's
country seat, where the family were re
cruiting for the winter's gayeties in the
city. One groan Harry gave as he
packed an evening fires, or rather pitch
ed it into his trunk ; but he bore his fate
with a grave resigattion, which made
Fred's lips and eyes quiver with merri
ment.
The ride in the early morning was de
licious, and the young men chatted gay.
"There's the house," said Fred, point
ing to a white house visible among the
trees; "and, hey 1 there's the girls on the
lawn."
"Can't we drive round ?" said Harry,
nervously.
"Round? No, we must pass the house
to reach the stables. They see us l',
The waiving of two white handker
chiefs, as they approach'd, gave rise to
the last exclamation, and, tossing the
reins to Harry, Fred 'sprang out. A
tiny, pretty blonde claimed her brother's
kiss ; but the tall, graceful girl who
blushingly welcomed cousin Fred, had a
grasp of the hand, a look from the dark
eye, and a few whispered words that told
of more love than even the warm em
braces Fred gave his little sister.
"Who is your friend 2" said Miss Vaux,
after the first greetings were over.
"Harry, here l"
"Can't come ! Must hold the horses!"
"Nonsense, the horses will stand !"
"Afraid to trust them. I'll drive
round to the stable and join you after
ward ;" and he touched the horses with
his whip and left the trio.
"Who is he, Fred ?"
"Harry Grey I"
"You don't mean it ? I thought noth
ing could take him from his hermitage."
"He's hard enough to coax abroad ;
but here he is. He's as bashful as a
school-boy, but a fine, manly fellow un
der it all."
They sauntered toward the house, and
waited on the porch for the tardy guest
bathe did not appear. Half an hour
passed in cheerful chat ; and then, blam
ing himself for his want of courtesy,
Fred started to the stable. Here he
found Harry fast asleep on a pile of hay.
Laughing heartily, he woke him.
"Tired 2"
"No, not particularly ; but I was
rathered bored sitting out here waiting
for you."
"Why didn't you jot us ?
that's my cousin, says you are the hand
somest man that she has seen for a long
time. Look sharp, I won't have you
doing the irristable in that quarter.—
You may flirt with Nettie, if you will."
"I flirt I Gracious I Fred, you might
as well expect that famous donkey in the
fable to grace a drawing-room, as to ex
pect me, great clumsy countryman as I
am, to flirt I I—l guess, Fred, after
dinner, if we can dine alone, I had bet
ter go back —"
"Scared by the sight of the enemy,
the wretch meditates retreat without an
encounter," said a merry voice at the
door, and turning Fred saw his sister.
With a large flat hat over her sunny
curls, and her full white dress, she look
ed as pretty and saucy a picture as can
well be imagined.
Harry was on his feet in an instant,
and his graceful bow, though his face
flushed, was not a thing to blush for by
any means.
Holding out a tiny white hand, which
was quite lost in the one Harry extend
ed to meetit, Nettie said,
"You are very welcome to our house.
I need no introduction, for Harry Grey
is the one theme of my brother's con
versation. Don't run away until, after
you have partaken of the luncheon to
which I was sent to summon you."
"After such a welcome, I defy any
mortal power to make me run away,"
said Harry, offering his arm to the little
benty ; "but this dress, Fred—"
But Fred was gone.
"Never mind the dress. We lunch
early, for in the country one get savage
ly hungry, and we do not dress for lunch
eon. I appear as you see, in a wrapper,"
and she gave her embroidered skirt a
slight shake, which showed a tiny slip
per.
"Is that a wrapper ? Savage that I
am, I don't know it from a ball-dress."
Fortified by his interview with Nettie,
Harry went through the other introduc
tions with the courtesy of a man, whose
politeness does not proceed from a
knowledge of set forms, but is the result
of a kind heart and a respectful deference
TorTrls—C>lis 3Dollar a Year_
for the other sex. After luncheon, the
young men started for a stroll round the
farm, and returned to find other additions
to the family. One glance into the par
lor revealed some six or eight ladies,
and a corresponding number of gentle
men from the city, and Harry beat a
hasty retreat to his room. Fred's an
nouncement that they were to stay a
week, was so alarming that it required
all his eloquence to persuade Harry to
remain in the house. During the week
the family saw but little of the young
men. Parties to ride, pic-nics, and par
ties to walk were formed ; but Harry
had letters to write, or a headache, or
there was some other excuse ready ; but
after the parties left, be generally went
off not to appear again until dinner ; the
ladies decided that he was a handsOme
bear, and the gentlemen voted him odd,
only Fred was the confident of the weary
sigh that proclaimed pic-nics and parlor
evenings "such a bore !"
One morning, supposing all the folks
away, Harry sauntered into the parlor.
He adianced too far to retreat, when he
discovered that Mrs. Vaux was lying on
the sofa with a shawl over her, and Not
tie was seated on the sofa with a piece
of knitting.
"Came in 1" said the elder lady, as she
saw Harry ; I have a pain in my side,
not enough to drive me to bed, only an
excuse for laziness. Nettie here stays
to play nurse."
"I am sorry you are ill," said Harry,
his face expressing real sympathy.—
"Can I be of any use?"
"You may read to us," said Nettie,
with a smile, as if she expected to see
him vanish. To her surprise he assent
ed immediately, and selecting a volume
of Tennyson from a pile on the table,
began to read the "Lotus Eaters." The
ladies listened in delighted surprise.—
To a musical voice he added the charm
of perfect familiarity with his subject,
and carried them with him to the dreamy
delights of the poem. A good reader
is not so common a person that he is
easly parted with. After the gay guests
were gone, many a morning found Har
ry reading to the ladies, as they sewed,
or conversing with an easy grace, which
showed him at home in his subjects. In
the long, lonely days, when Oakdale
had no guest but its host, books were
companions, friends that the young man
valued and cultivated. Master of sever
al languages, his stock of literature was
large and varied, and he was truly, what
so many aspire to be, a well read man.
Long walks, long rides, long drives
varied the morning's readings ; and as
Fred and Bella always had something
of interest to say to each other, Harry
found Nettie dependfht upon him for
escort. She was a, tiny, witching girl
whose slight figure and lovely face con
trasted well with his strong manliness,
and he 'treated her with a mixture of
reverence and protection which no
woman can resist. Ile felt for her the
courteous respect which her sex claim
ed from his chivalry ; yet he watched
her as if she was a frail child trusted to
his care.
"A. whole month to-day since I came
here," said Harry, as the family assem
bled in the parlor, one evening ; " to
morrow I must go home."
There was a chorus of voices entreat
ing a longer stay; only one voice, the
oue for which he listened, was silent.
"I must go I" be said, sighing. "1 ex
pect company, and the host must not be
absent when invited guests visit him.—
I must thank you for a most delightful
four weeks; and," hero he laughed, "also
for humanizing mo a little. lam afraid
the first part of my stay must have shock
ed you very much."
"We have got bravely over it," said
Nettie, with a little short, nervous laugh.
Somehow, in the twilight, Fred and .
I,iella vanished into a corner, Mrs. 'Vans
nodded, and in one of the windows a tall,
broad shouldered figure . bent over a lit.
tle, graceful one, as if some very earnest
subject engrossed them both. What
it was may he gassed from Fred's good
night parting, as he left his friend's room.
"Why, Harry, my consent was yours
before you asked it ; though how you
can ever endure all the wedding fuss and
consequent parties I cannot guess ; and
Harry, I should think a wife, a woman
always in the house, would be 'SUCH A
BORE!'"
ear The account comes to us of a man
who attends church regularly, and clasps
his hands so tight during praying time;
that he can't get them open when the
contribution box comes around.
NO. 15.
IMMENSE ARMIES
There is little doubt that the armies
now in Washington and its vicinity
amount to the immense aggregate of
200,000 men on each side, or 400,000
combatants. Whenever a •general bat
tle shall occur, it will not only have no
parrallel on the Western Continent in
the forces engaged, but hardly one in
the history even of modern Europe, will
vie with it. The great battles of Na
poleon were generally fought with-num
bers far inferior to these now under the
walls of Washington.
For instance, at Austerlitz, where Na
poleon defeated the combined armies of
Russia and Austria, be had but 80,000
troops ; the Allies had 100,000. At
Jena and Auerstadt, where he broke the
power of Prussia, his forces were not
over 130,000 strong. At the great bat
tle of Wagram, fonght with the Austri
ans on the banks of the Danube, in 1809,
he had but 160,000 men. At Borodino,
under the walls of Moscow, he had but
120,000 to oppose the Russians. At
Waterloo he did not have troops to ex
ceed 80,000.
The only battle-field we now recollect
of, where the combatants were as nu
merous as those around Washington,
was Leipsic, in 1813, where Napoleon
had 175,000, and the Allies—Russians,
Austrians, Prussians, Germans and the
Swedes—numbering 290,000. Nearly
half a million of men took part in this
tremendous battle, which was known as
the ". combat of the Giants."
It lasted three days, and ended in a
complete overthrow of Napoleon, who
was driven into France, where a series
of disasters commenced that did not end
until Napoleon abdictod his crown, and
was exilod to the Island of Elba, in 1814.
No battle was ever fought on the soil
of the United States, whore 60,000 com
batants took part in it on both sides.
From these figures we can judge of
what a battle we have reason to expect
when the hosts of McClellan and Beau
regard, more than twice the number of
those of Napoleon and Wellington at
Waterloo, come in collision on the banks
of the Potomac. It will be an event
that will be the great military *featnre,
probably for ages to come, of martial
prowess in America.
Washington never had 30,000 men in
one army under his command; Jackson
never had 15,000 ; and Scott never be
fore the present year had seen 20,000
troops under his orders. Great is the
ability required to manoeuvre and handle
such a large body amen and bring them
into action at the proper time and place.
The late battle of Bull Run extended
over seven miles from, one end of our
line to another. To know what is going
on in such an amphitheatre, and to be
prepared to order up reserves and to
strengthen every exposed point f requires
the highest degree' of intellect. At the
battle of Bull Run half of both armies
never fired a shot. Beauregard had 40,
000 men at Manassas Junction, only
three miles distant, whom he never used,
and, yet he would have been defeated,
had it not been for the opportune and
unexpected arrival of a portion of Gen.
Johnson's army from the upper Poto6
mac. McDowell had a powerful reserve,
that took no part whatever in the action,
and yet it was strong enough to haie
beaten back Johnson's division, if it had
been on hand at the proper moment.—
We have confidende that McClellan has
not only plenty of men, but believe he
knows how to use them.
1 Was not that rather sharp of old
Dr. Emmons, when a certain well-known
pantheistic physician, intending to make
way for a thrust at his theology, abrUpt
ly asked, " How old are you ?" " Sixty,
sir ; and how old are you ?" was the
quick reply. "AS old as the creation,
sir," responded the other, quite prompt
ly. " Then you are of the same age
with 'Adam arid Eve ?" Certainly, sir ;
I was in the garden when they were."
"Indeed!" returned the Dr., " I have
always heard that there was a third
person who got into the garden with
them, but I never knew before -that it
Was you." The discussion was cl sed.
435 -
(k i.
" Pa," said a boy to his father,'
often read of people poor but honest;
why don't - they sometimes say rich but
honest ?" " Tut, tnt, my son," said the
father, " nobody would believe them."
*Cr " Tis . our turn now," as the autumn
leaves said to the west wind. " You be
blowed !" was the reply, and the leaves
blushed at the rudeness.
Voputar
'Sad ",Y'/teed Ike
Now to heaven our prayer ascending,
God speed the right ;
In a noble cause contending,
God speed the right.'
Be our zeal in heaven recorded,
With success on earth rewarded,
God speed the right.
Be that prayer again repeated,
God speed the right;
Ne'er despairing, though defeated,
God speed the right.
Like the good and great in story,
If we fail we fail in glory;
God speed the right.
Patient, firm and persevering,
God speed the right;
Ne'er th'event nor danger fearing,
God speed the right.
Pains, nor toils, nor trials heeding,
And in heaven's good time succeeding,
God speed the right.
Still our onward course pursuing,
God speed the right ;
Every foe at length subduing;
God speed the right.
Truth our cause, whaVer delay it,
There's no power on earth can stay it;
God speed the right.
slienl4 falling. Orzatu.
In flakes of a feathery white,
'TM falling so gentle and slow ;
Oh, pleasant to me is the sight,
When silently falling the snow,
Snow, snow, snow,
When silently falling tlin snow.
Snow, snow, .snow,
When silently falling the snow.
The earth is all covered.to-day
With mantle of radiant show ;
It sparkles and shines in the ray,
In crystals of glittering snow,
Snow, snow, snow,
In crystals of glittering. snow.
Oh, happy the snow birds I see,
While hopping and flittering they go;
They tell of a lesson to me,
While feeding in beautiful snow.
Snow, snow, snow,
While feeding in beautiful snow.
The trees have 'a burden of white,
It'covers their branches, I know,
It never forsakes them by night,
All day are they playing with snow,
Snow, snow; snow,
All day are they playing with snow,
•
How spotless it seems, and how pure,
I would that my spirit were so I
Then long as the soul shall endure,
More brightly I'd shine than the snow,
Snow, snow, snow,
More brightly I'd shine , than the snow,
But soon with the breath of the spring,
Down streamlets and rivers 'twill flow;
The seasons of summer will bring
Bright flowers for silvery snow,
Snow, snow, snow,
Bright flowers for silvery snow.
,alze IW`aslct La fug of
There is beauty in the forest,
Where the trees are green and fair,
There is beauty in the meadow,
Where wild flow'rs scent the air,
There is beauty in the sunlight,
And the soft blue beam above ;
01. the world is full of beauty,
When the heart is fall of love.
There is beauty in the fountain,
Singing gaily at its play;
While the rainboN hues -Are streaming
On its silv'ry shining spray.
There is beauty in the streamlet,
Murm'ring softly tiara' the 'grove ;
0 ! the world IEI full of beauty,
When the heart is of love.
There is beauty In the moonlight,
Whetrit falls upon the sea,
While the blue foam-crested billows
Dance and frolic joyously ;
The're's beauty in the lightning-gleam
That o'er the dark waves rove
0 1 the world is full of beauty,
When the heart is full of love.
There le, beauty in the brightness
Beaming from a loving eye,
In the warm bluer of affection,
In the tear of sympathy;
In the sweet low voice whose accents
The spirits gladness prove ;
0! the world is full of beauty, •
When the heart is full of love.
"aciczt.
=I
When the hmmid showers gather
Over all the starry spheres,,
And the melancholy darkness.
Gently weeps in rainy tears,
'Tie a joy to press the pillow •
Of a cottage-chamber bed,
And to listen to the patter
Of the soft rain over head.
Ev'ry tinkle on the shingles
Has an echo in the, heart, ,
And a thousand dreamy fancies
Into busy being start;
And a thousand recollections
Weave their bright hued into woof,
As I listen to the patter •
s t:if the soft rain on the roof,
There is naught , in art's bravuras,
That can work with such.a spell,
In the!epirit's pure, deep fountains,
Whence the , killyipa,s_sionalswell,
As that melody of nature,
That - subdued, subduing strain,
-Which is play'd upon the shingles
By the patter of the rairit
„./Veu_ei , Lack gad.
Never look sad, there's nothing so bad
As getting familiar with'sorro*
Treat him to-day in a. cavalier way,
He'll seek other quarters to-morrow.
Do not then sigh, bat ere tam 4yOnr eye
At the bright side of every trial;
FOrtune yoti'll find is often most, kind
When chilliiag yotir hopes with aebial.
Let the sad day then carry away
Its own little burden of sorrow;
Or you may miss full half of the bliss
Which comes in the laver tomorrow
E