- 33_49:1-CMPt., M al - tor aid Prio-prietar.. VOL. NINE. sta PUBLISHED WEEKLY 41,1* ONE DOLLAR A YEAR. =3 OFFICE on Front Street, a few floors east 1,„/ of Mrs. Flury's 11 , ,te1, Marietta, Lancas ter County, Pennsylvania. Trans, o,e Dollar a year, payable in'ad- Vance, and if subscriptions tie not paid within SIX months $1.25 will be charged, but if de layed until the expiration ot the year, $1.50 will be charged. No subscription received for a less period than six months, and no paper will be dtscon tinued until all arrearages ure paid, unless at the option of the publisher. A failure to noti fy a discontinuance at the expiration of the term subscribed for, will be considered a new engagement. ADVERTISING RATES: One sfpiare (12 lines, or less) 50 cents for the first insertion and .25 cents each subsequent insertion. Pro fessional and Business cards, of six lines or less at $3 per annum. Notices in the reading col amns, fire cents a-line. Marriages and Deaths, he simple announcement, FREE ; but for any additional lines, five cents a line. A liberal deduction made to yearly and half yearly advertisers. JOB PRINTING of every description neatly and expeditiously executed, and at prices to suit the times. HAPPY OLD AGE. I feel that age has overta'en My steps on life's descending way, But time has left no lingering pain, Ro shadow of an evil day; • And you, my children, gather near To smooth and solace my decline, And I have hope that your career Will be as blessed as mine. Not ■ll exempt has been my sky From Hire:Wring storm and low'ring, cloud, But sunbursts shed from source on high Have cheered my spirit when it bowed. Not all without the shard and thorn Has been my path from first to last; But springs and flowers, of mercy born, - !lave - soothed me as I passed. And now my mind, all clear and cool— As f serenely talk or muse— Is tranquil as yoo glassy pool, Reflecting aututun's sunset hues. Time has not dulled my moral sense, Nor has it dimmed my mental sight; No passions weaken my defence, No doubts and cares alYrigat. 'DA retrospection', even yet, Will lead me through past trodden ways, And I remember—wby forget? The magic of my early days; Ail nature so divinely wrought, The unravelled mystery of [Ap t A wukeme to exalted thought . , And lent my spirit wings. And I remember how I grew Up to sunny noon of 3 oath, From yohth to manhood, till I knew That love was near akin to truth. My trials, bravely o7ereome ; My triumphs, not of purpose vain ; All these, with vague but pleasant hum, Still murmur throftli my brain: My children, offspring of a tree Whose top is Lowy with decay, Whose trunk is shaken as may be Before it falls and fades away— Rt.ceive what faithful men unfold, Revere what truthful men proclaim, And before heaven and man uphold • The honor of my name. Forme, i have no mortal fear, No treinbiings as I burry down My way is clear, the end is near, The goal, the glory, and the crown Then shed no bitter tears for me, As ye consign me to the dust; Rather rejoice that I shall be W.th God, my strength and trust. EGO AND ECHO. I asked of Echo, l'other day, ( Whose words are often funny), What to a novice she should say Of courtship, love and matrimony? - quoth Echo, plainly—c!Mhtter-o-money !,9 Whom should I marry T should it be A dashing damsel, neat and pert— A pattern of inconstancy; " Or selfish, mercenary flirt Quoth Echo, sharply—" Nary flirt I" That if, aweary of the strife That Jong has lured the gay deceiver, She promised to amend her life And inn no more; can I believe her 1 Quoth Echo, with decision--" Leave her I" But if some maiden with a heart, On me should venture to bestow it, Pray, should I act the wiser part To take the treasure or forego it? Quoth EOM, very }no nptly—"Oo it 1" But wl at, if seemingly afraid To bind herself in Hymen's fetter, • She vows she means to die a maid, ,Ta answer to my loving letter T quoth Echo, rather coolly—" Let her 1" What if, in spite of her disdain, I find my heart so twined about With Cupids dear, delicinds chain, So closely that I can't get out? Quoth Echo, laughingly—" Get out!" B u t if some maid with beauty blest, As pure and fair an heaven make her, Will share my labor and my rest, Till envious Death shall overtake her Quoth Echo (sotto voce)—"Take her!" fur A Cockney says that the wa ter makes a great transformation in cloth. Take, gay a piece of linen, and soak it thoroughly; and it will be welt wet {yeivetto) alubtvOcitt Vlntitzlotrattia Nountil lcbotrb xa lafr tts , Yittraturt, agricatture, lidos of Ot Irotal•dottlfittntr, tVc. It was in J ne, the most beautiful of the summer months—a glowing, regal day of almost tropic richness. We were lounging on the piazza of C---IHouse, some half a dozen of us, trying to keep cool. "If Mrs. Jennings invites any more men here, I shall leave," said pretty Susie Morris, as she entered the room hastily. "line cann move without meeting 'top-boots' and straw hats." "What is wrong, Susie ? your face i 8 a perfect crimson " "And no wonder, girls, I have just been most beautifully caught. It was so warm upstai s, and you gir's . were chatting away like mad down here ; so, as I wanted to finish 'Adam Bede,' I discarded my hoops, shoes, and stock_ ings, and conveyed the rest of .myself out to the arbor to read. I would not have risked it, but Mrs. Jennings told me he gentlem,m b d all gone fishing, and would nut return till late, I flung myself clown on the moutai, and buried My bare feet in the long grass. Oh !it was del ciously cool. and I was con gratulating mysc:f on havi g escaped you triegpieg, when Kllo should cuter and fling himself into the garden-chair but Mr, Egetton." "Harry E:yerton of all men in the world ! the pink of neatness, proud, ex. ernsive, aristocratic, and all the rest ; never wore a rumpled shirt-collar in his life, thinks w men sleep in full dress.— Oh ! horror, Susie, you a e undone." "Wasn't it too bad V' said poor Susie fairly ready to cry. "Never min,:,, Susie," said Laura 11astiugp, "you look as Fweet as ever you can look, Witti •our %bite wrapper, and your splendid hair twisted up 80, carelessly," "Listen to Laura, I do believe she could comfort au old tumid in musquito time." "What did flacry say Susie ?" "lie did not notic me at .first ;• when be turned, he spr,teg t his feet and ap ologized. Re bad taken a severe head ache, and leaving the fishers at Ford's Landing, had corns Imam by the three o'clock boat. lie did not Feet]] to no tice my confusion, but glanced roguishly at my feet, and • then_ at his pantaloons thrust in his beets, as m• ch as if to say, 'Wo are quits !' But there 3 shan't talk anymore about it." And she es caped to her own room, t write letters, as she Said, whilst the rest us remained to talk—well, scandal, "I think Susie and Mr. Egerton ar mutally pleased with each other, or else Susie is flirting wi:h him." I fired up at this. "Excuse me, Helen, for contradicting you 1 but Susie Morris is not given to flirting ; besides, she is, as you know, engaged." "So I toil Mr. Egerton, but he don't believe it. Lie says, if it is so, he de vuut y the colts "1 truer get shot." "And it ho did, Susie would never marry him very shallow ; so he may di ges- that at his leio‘urta." "You are very erns. iy, Grace.— You shouldn't be bard ou the poor mad', he is so handsome." - "Bah! I bate bitntiseme men. Give me a real homely one, like Doctor Moore ; he's sure to be sen.,ible." This was a double thrust, In'ended to quiet tiiro tongues, for Helen Sloan. and Mary Mac were supposed to have about an equal right in the aforesaid doctor's heart ; at least, they were both storm ing the same castle. "Indeed, he is homely, Gracie (an in nocent bit of spite of Laura's); I won• der what brought him here, anyway." "Oh, he knew Hardnelk ,was to be a rendezvous for beauty, this season, and, what is far better in his eyes, beauties with long rent rolls," Helen and Mary both flung off, shut ting the door hard behind them. They were both heiresses ; and as soon as the valiant doctor found - out who had the most money, he intended to provosts. Sweet Susie Morris was all Aileron- Ci 01.13 of the conquest. sh- had made, and Harry Egerton continued to waste his "killing" smiles and glances, firmly believing he had only to propose to be accepted. I wickedly determined to let him find out the truth for himself; and the rest of the girls. from spite that he slighted them, kept the secret, too. Susie knew nothing of our many quiet gossips at her expense, and went on her way calm and serene. Laura, like myself was somewhat of a dreamer, and it came to pass, whilst the party were out sailing and riding, we sat at the window of my pleasant bed-, om, building those shadowy ea- -.• 1 111 t , 4 S. ::•: 4 \ , .. r . . q , ce .., 2......) HARRY'S WAGER. MARIETTA, PA., SATURDAY, MAY 2. 1863. ties that tumble down so easily. It was an old-fashioned house, with a balcony built on three sides of it. In. a little while our reverie was disturbed by the sound of the booted feet coming toward "Hush I it is Harry Egerton and Ned Lyman," and we hastily dropped the curtain, and kept very still, while the gentlemen cooly appropriated the chairs we had vacated when the dew began to fall. "Now fora treat." whispered Laura; "just hear how he will blow." 'But it's so wean to listen.' 'No, it isn't, to such a gas-house as [tarry Egerton—hush 1' 'Where is your pretty Susie, tonight, Barry ? I wonder to see you alone' 'Gone to ride with Doctor Moore, the old gray-beared. I'll put a bullet through him if be interferes again in my property. I know Susie is dreadfully bored' 'When wilr we have the pleasure of congratulating Mrs. Egerton 2' 'Oh, as soon as it grows cooler ; it's too confounded warm, to wear broadcloth.' "Then it's all fi ,ed ? The lady has confessed her love?' 'Of course how could she help it ?' 'l'm sorry to differ with you, Harry; but I don't believe Susie Morris will ever be Mrs. Egerton.' 'The mischief you don't I What will you bet on it ?' 'Anything you like. 'This diamond ring against your shirt studs.' 'Agreed—but remember, if she refu ses you, the ring is mine.' 'Certainly; but do not fear.' 'Hush, Harry ! hark, a minute ! lam sure I heard a noise. Perhaps seme•of these imps of girls aro about; they all room on this side of the-house.' . 'Oh I no, they're all on the river, but Susie and Doctor Moore. But it's al most time for Susie to_ return. I must go and look after her. Come, let us go below.' And slipping his arm -through his companion's, they were soon out of sight-and hearing. 'Do you feel mean, Laura? You're mother taught ion not to listen.' 'Not a bit; the mike scamp' A scamp, indeed ! never spoke a word on the stitject of marriage to Susie in his life, I know or she would have told me of it. The truth of it is, she w ie so calm and cool, he is afraid to venture; but he will, before she leaves. le'Ve hoard the girls' voices, and stole slyly down the back way, determined to keep our counsel, and wait patiently. It was the night before we left Hard neck, and oar kind hostess gave a large party in our honor. Susie had not come down yet, though the rest of us had been in the drawing.room at least thirty min utes. Egerton stood laming against the piano, watching the door and I knew by the eipression of his face, that he meant to dare his fate, to-night. I knew what kept Susie. Letters had come from the warrior lover, one of which said he'expected to be home for a few days how soon he could not just say—per haps, though, within the week. I had dressed early, and left Susie to dream over those previous letters. I was was watching, too, and soon a light step announced, her coming. I was determined Mr. Egerton should "hunt" a chance to pop the question in, so met her at the door and drew her arm through mine. She was very beautiful in her floating white robe, with briliiant red verbenas ou her bosom, and iu her black hair. and the quiet of her great happiness in her dark, misty eyes. I led her to the extreme corner of the room, far as possible away from Mr. Eg erton,though I well know those things that always "come home to roost" were following me ; but I did not care. Later in the evening, Laura and I were alruost`convulsed by 'hearing Ned Lyman say, in passing : 'W hen shall I have the pleasure of wearing that diamond-ring, Egerton ?' An hour later, Susie and I stood on the verandah. 'What brought you out here, Susie 7 I hunted you all around.' 'Oh, nothing; only Mr. Egerton wor ries me to death following me around. I don't know what the man means.' I knew very. well what the man meant; my heart not being so pre-occupied as Susie's but I did not say so. Turning, I eaw the gentleman himself coming toward the verandah, and saying to Susie, "Wait here a moment, I have forgotton my fan" (which was true), I paseedthiongh one low window whilst he'etepped on the verandah from an other. Jo my haste` to - escape Unseen I almost fell into the arms of Ned Ly man, who stood concealed beneath the the heavy fall of curtains that drapped the window. •Go away a little while,:Ned ; I want this window.' 'Go away a littlo while, Grace, I want this window.' 'What for, Ned ?' 'To listen to Egerton's proposal: to Susie. I have a wager on it.' Theo I told him I wanted to listen, too; so we shared the window, mutual ly agreeing that listening as a general thing was contemptible; but Egerton's affairs were public property, for he made them so by telling them himself. During our brief confab we had lost a part, for Egerton was saying : "And is this your final answer, Miss Susie? Could you not love me in time ?" "It is, Mr. Egerton. I can never be your wife. "Consider a little longer, Miss Susie --dear Miss Susie (very tender)—let me place this ring upon that fair finger," removing the diamond. ("Oh, he's going to give my ring away," whispered Ned, ludiaronFly,— "I've half a mind to say, 'Don't give my ring away, Egerton.'") "Put back the ring, Egerton," said poor Susie, in a pained voice ; "it can never be. This interview is exceeding ly painful to me ; will you kindly per mit me to pass ?" She moved toward the window, but be laid his hand upon her arm, and would not let her enter. "You are insolent, sir." And Susie's black'eyes "flashed Bre. At that mo ment a heavy boot sounded on the bare floor, and a sword clanged against the iron railing, Susie turned quickly, and saying, joyously: "0 Norman !"sprang into the arms of a tall, noble-loeking man, whose handsome epaulets and wa ving plume proclaimed his rank. He stood with pretty Susie drawn close against his breast,sboth entirely ignoring poor" Egerton, but soon a saucy light came up in Susie's eyes, and turning, she said : "Mr. Egerton, permit me to introduce my friend and betrothed husband, Colo nel Norman Doan." Egeiton did not utter one word, but turning on his heel, left them. Susie explained to my brother (for her lover was my only brother) the cause of her presenting him in the m6.nner she did. - He in turn explained the cause of his unexpected coming, declining to join the guests, as he had just come off the cars dusty and tired. Then he passed his arm around her, and led her down into the garden, whilst Ned and I scampered as we heard the voice of our hostess calling :' "Grace, Grace ; where can those girls be?" We left next day. As we parted at the depot, Ned_ said : "Egerton, give me the ring ; I have won the, wager." "Not so fast, my, fine fellow. I have n't proposed yet." "That won't do, my boy ; I heard you. 'Consider a little longer, Miss. Susie—dear Miss Susie; let .me place this ring -upon that. fair finger.'" Egerton was fairly caught, and re moving the ring, gave it to Ned. "Keep my secret, Ned it's all I ask." And stepping on the cars, he was gone. Reader, this was one year ago, and this June that ring sparkles on my fin ger, for you see I—l—l am Mrs. Ned Lyman. Two days after we left Hardwick, in a little Gothic church away in the moun tains, thickly covered with ivy and creeping roses, my brother Norman and Susie Morris were made man and wife. Loom ON THE BRIGHT BIDE.—It is bet ter to tread the path of life cheerfully skipping lightly over all the obstacles in the way, rather than sit down and lament your hard fate. The cheerful man's life will spin out longer than that, of a man who is continually sad despon ding. If disetbss comes upon us, dejec tion and despair will not afford relief.— The best thing to do when evil- comes upon us is not`lamentation, but action ; not to sit and: suffer, but to rise and make a vigorous effort to seek a reme dy, tar A ehictigo Man, who had not been out of the city for years, fainted away in the pure air of Rock Prarire, Re, was ,only .xesucitated, by putting a fish to hts nose, when he slowly revived, exelaimigg, *good, it. scaelle like }tome." April 11, 1,37:3 1- Married and Given in Marriage. Marriages ure queer things, after all. So are the men and women who consent ina-te them. The statistics of courtship and wedlock, of marriage and its re sults, are interesting in their way. The union of fire and ice, of sunlight and of snow, is not more diverse than matrimo nett unions sometimes are. FaCt and fancy have a corelative relation in this respect. Men und women take a fancy to each other, and the facts certainly testify how very uncertainly tha result of such prejudices prove. The statistics of the past year are probably not more time ordinarily interesting, but they are sufficiently so to engage' the notice of wives and widows, bachelors and maids : The number of men married under twenty was nineteen, of whom fifteen married women under twenty, and four married women between twenty and twenty-five; while that of the women under twenty was eight hundred arid; sixteen, of whom fifteen married men under twenty, and five hundred and mix ty-five married nun between twenty and twenty-five ; one hundred and sixty six married men between twenty-five and thirty ; sixty-two married men between thirty and furty ; and two married men between forty and fifty, and six married men whose age was not given. The number of men over the age of thirty married was one thousend two liendred and eighty-three, an it:crease: over the previous year of one hundred and forty; six, while that of the' women was five hundred and eighty-one,. being an in crease of forty six. There were nine men married between seventy and eigh ty, two of whom married women between sixty nod seventy, three between fifty and sixty, three between forty and fifty, and one between thirty end forty ; and four women married between sixty and seventy ; two married men between sev enty and eighty, one between eixty and seventy, and one between fifty and sixty. The Methodist ceremony seemed to have been the favorite ceremony em ployed—there being 907 marriages re. ported.; thee follows the Clatholic, 898; Episcopal, 658 e Presbyterian. 529; Lu theran, 453 ; nod Baptist, 326. Seven marriages were reported with the cere mony omitted. These Alight statistics are full of encouragement to all. They prove to all interested, that while there is life there is hope, end while there are men and women there will be at least as many marriages as there are divorces, R FlvßßENCe.—lnipress upon your minds with reverence for all that is sa cred. Let not the wantonness of youth- I nil sallies, for nothing is more odious than to treat religion with levity ; it discovers at once a pert and shallow mind to presume to make light of what the wisest of n ankindholds most sacred. True religion breathes gentleness and affability. It produces ki ,d, social and cheerful feelings, and teaches men to discard the gloomy and illiberal super stition which unfits . them for another world by wholly neglecting the concerns of this. Be prepared for heaven by an active and honorable discharge of the duties of this life, and of such religion discover on every proper occasion that 'you are not ashamed, but avoid making any ostentatious display of it. rationAxce.—Nothing renders legiti mate governments so insecure as ignor. ance among the people. it is this which yields them an easy prey to the seductive wiles of designing dema gogues. People well educated, with enlarged reasoning powers to compre hend the true ground of authority, and the obligation of obedience to the laws are not liable to be the victims of pre judice and false alarms ; and by the ex ercise of enlightened reason, will detect and expose the insidious plans of wished and designing men. A BIG CROP.-Wm. McLean, of liedderson county, one of the most extensive and successful planters in Kentucky, sold his crop of tobacco, em bracing three hundred and eighty thou sand pounds, together with his crop of corn, for the sum of $70.000. The to bacco alone brought $68,000. This is the most valuable yield , ever produced on a single plantaion in Kentucky. Or A. Fellow -was one day boasting of his pedigree, when a wag aho was pre sent remarked very sententiously, Ah I I have no doubt. That reminds me of a remark made -by Lord Bacon, that they who derive their ?worth from their ancestors resemble pot ato ei), .the most valuable part of which ,under ground. 1\x.40. Fortue-Teller, ------ These men carry on their prof-ssinn in tiie streets of the city also, where there is is space available. A mat i 3 spread on the ground, with a =ties SN:A at each corder, around which a strip o cloth is cast to form an enebo.r.rP for the fortune teller and his hen. w )(.11 is in a small bamboo cage. his an open box costuinMenntnber 01 very small rolls of paper with sentence- or single characters written on them. Ia front of hint is a long row of City or six ty small pasteboard envelopes. which al 'SO hold single characters or the divina- tion sentences. A little board painted white, for writing on, and the "iultstone" and the pencil are at hand ready for nee, An inquirer who wishes to consult him squats down on his heels outside the in (Augurs., pays three cash, (half a farthing) and tells bis story, stating what be wish es to know. Re is told to pick out a roll from the box, which having done, he hands it to the man, who unrolls it, and writes its contents on the board. He opens doorof the cage, and the ben march es forward to the row of envelopes; af ter peering over them inquisitively, she picka out one and lets it fall to the ground. A few grains of rice are thrown into the cage, and she returns. The en velope is opened, and the oharacters inside also written on -the—board, from the two inscriptions on which the con sclter's propecte are announced. Tha hen is regarded as the arbiter of Cite incapable of moral motive in the selec. , tion of the roll, and is therefore suppos ed to give the decree of fate, withoit the rossihility of collusion or misiuter, pretation of any kind.—[The Medical to China. far A proud Parson %ad his man, rt.- ding over a common, saw a st•ephered with a new coat on, tending' his Hock. The parson asked him, in a very haugh ty tune, who gave him that coat. "The same that clothed you—the parish," said the shepherd. The parson, net tled at this, rode on a little way, mur. muting, and then bade his man go back and ask the shepherd if he would come and live with him, for he wanted a fool. '['he groom went accordingly to the shepherd, delivered his master's message, and concluded, as he was ordered, that his master wanted a, fool. 'Why are you going away, then ?' said the shep herd. 'No,' answered the other. 'Then' said the shepered, 'you may tell your master that his living cannot maintain three of us.' ear O'Connel is said to have checked a panic tin a bank or which ha was a di retor, by making the cashier roast the gold that was given in exchange fer notes. The poor Pats thought that they were coining money in the bank parlor, and that they couldn't break a bank which could supply its customers with.gold like breakfast rolls. Besides, it is rather uncomfortable picl: to up hot sovereigns, and the process of cash ing was necessarily slow. - ts' A lady, upon being told a friend wished to see her, desired her little daughter, about eight or nine years of age, to say that see was not in; upon this, the friend being anxious to Lave an interview, asked the child when her mother would be likely to return. The little thing very inocently said calling up stairs, "Mamma, the lady wishes to know when you will be in ?" car Dryden on the night that one of his plays was damned, was taking his walk from the theatre, when he was met by a coxcomb acquaintance, who said : "What, Dryden, my boy ! upon my soul 1 feel for , you. Can thera be anything more shocking to a person's feelings than ,a damned play 7" "Yee sir," re plied the poet. "a d—d fool." 425 - Aminidab, who is Cupid ? One of the boys, He is said to to be blind as a bat ; but if he is blind he'll do, to travel. Ho found his way into Aunt Nan's affections, and I wouldn't have thought any critter Could have worked his way into such narrow arrangements with eyes. open e' Judge said to a toper on trial for drunkenness Prisoner, have heard the cornplaintfor habitual drunk ness ; what have you to say in your defence ? Nothing, 'please your limier, but habit ual thirst, stir Going, going, just a going ! cried out an auctioteer. "Where are you go ng ?" quickly asked a passer-by.— Well,'replied the knight of the ham mer, I am , going to the Zoological Gar-. dens to tell the managers that osus their baboons is /seat_.