Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              VOL XLin.
LANOASTER, PA., WEEpESDAT, JUNE 30, 1869.
NO. 33
EXABOarEB &  HEBAliP.
PDBUSHEDKraBT WEDOTSDAY. At BO. 4 Wortll ttaeon 8tr«et, Lmetitar, p«
TEItMa-»3.00 A YEAB ctIpTAHCI!.
JNO. A, BXBSTAKD   * E. M   KIXNB,
Editors »nil Proprletora.
-THIHETO^IHKHn)."
" Thine to the end "—thine only,'best beloved. While these poot lips have power to form thy
name; Thlno In temptollon—In all the bitter sor¬ rows— Thine—It fate hold It for thee—even In slmmel Pleading with Heaven for the deepness of af¬ fection, For patience santllcr Ihan the sacred dove, For every good of heart and grace of spirit,, To cheer, and bless, aud comfort her t'^lf- •• Thine to tuo end!"
" Thine to the end!"  The clouds which gloom JLiy sc?eo°ul u.?mK-st in each murky fold! Aud round "fbout thy feet-loll numbed and
Lite's wa?S may d.isli rclcutloss, ncrco and
Thev cnlnioV cblll the ardor ol devotion ¦\Vhlch burns lor llicc withlu tills constant
breast; Oomo waut-con»e woe-come dire desolation- Here, here, at lo.ist, thou'lt never lack a rest. "Thine lolUe end."
"Tliluc to the end I"    "When  death's chill h.ands are loosing
Tho slender threads wulcli bind thy sonl to clay;
M'hcu backward float Eartli'.s dreams and ex- pecUltlons,
When forward glimmers Uright tho Eternal day;
Whon human strength  melts Into hnman weakness.
And longs-yet fears nnd hopes—to fear again.
This voice sliall soothe with tenderest conso¬ lation,
Theso fingers calm Ihy unrest and thy pain. " Thine to the end 1"
" Thine to the end!"—and uever any other's, Then Irnst me now, aud trust mo evermore; And givo mo of tliy love's most precious treas¬ ure A weluhllcr weight llian e'erthougav'stbefore. So shall 1 galu all will to war wltli fortune; .So shall thou bravely bear all wordly smarts*; Sosliallhoth, In face of each ataictlon, Claspouesweeteoinlorttoourway-wornhearts "Thine to the end!"
the:OUTCASTS OF POKEE FLAT.
PA"s*Mr. Jolm Oakhurst, gambler, slcpped into the main slreet of Polier Flat, oil the morniug of tweuty-tliirii of Novemiier, 1S30, lie •wiis conscious of a change in ils moral aIniospUero from the iireeeiling night. Two or three raen, conversing earnestly together, ceased aslieapproaeheil, ami exchanged significant glances. There was a Sab¬ bath lull in the air, which, in a settle¬ ment unused to Sabbath influences, looked ominous.
Mr. Oakliurst's calm, handsome face betrayed small concern of these indi¬ cations. Whether he was couscious of auy predisposing cause was auother question. " I reckon they're after somebodv," he reflected ; " like it's me." He turued to his pocket the handkerchief with which he had beeu whipping away the red dust of Poker Flat from his neat boots, and quietly discharged his mind of any further con¬ jecture. , , In point of fact, Poker Flat was "af¬ ter somebody."
It had lately suflered tbeloss of several thousand dollars, two valuable horses, and a prominent citizen. It was expe- rienciug a spasm of virtuous reaction, quite as lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked it. A secret committee bad determiued to rid the town of all improper persons. This was done permanently iu regard of two men who were then hanging from tbe bows of a sycamore in tbe gulch, and temporarily iu the banish¬ ment of certain other objectionable characters. I regret to say that some of these were ladies. It is but due to tho sex, however, to state tbat their impropriety was professional, and it was only in such easily established standards of evil that Poker Flat ven¬ tured to sit iu judgment.
A body of armed men accompanied tbe departed wickedness ot Poker Flat to the outskirts of tbe settlement. Be- Bidcs Mr. Oakhurst, who was known to be a cooly desperate man, and for whose intimidation the armed escort was intended, tbe expatriated party consisted of ayoung woman, familiary known as the " Duchess;" another, who bad gained the infelicitous title of "MotherShipton," and "UncleBilly," a suspected sluice robber and confirm¬ ed drunkard. Tbe cavalcade provoked no comments from the spectators, nor was any word uttered by the escort. Only when the gulch which marked the utmost limit of Poker Flat was reached, the leader spoke briefly and to the point. The exiles were forbidden to return at the peril of their lives.
The road to Saudy Bar—a camp that not having yet experienced the regen¬ erating inlluences of Poker Flat, con- Herjueutly seemed to offer some invita¬ tion to the emigrants—lay over a steep mouutain range. It was distant a day's severe journey. Iu that advanc¬ ed season the party soon passed out of the moist temperate regions of the foot- bills, into tbe dry, cold, bracing air of the Sierres. Tbe trail was narrow and difflcuit. At noon the Duebess, rolling out of her saddle upon the ground, de¬ clared her intention of going no furlher, and the party halted.
The spot was singularly wild and impressive. A wooded amphitheatre, surrounded on three sides by prescipi- tousclifls of naked granite, sloped gently toward the crest of another precipice lhat overloked the valley. It was un¬ doubtedly the most suitable spot for a camp, had camping been advisable. But Jlr. Oakhurst knew that scarcely half the journey to Bandy Bar was ac¬ complished, and the party were not equipped or provisioned for delay. This fact he pointed out to his compan¬ ions curtly, with a philosophic com¬ mentary ou the folly of " throwing up their hand before the game was played out." But they were furnished with liquor, which iu tbis emergency stood them in place of food, fael, rest and prescience. In spite ofhis remonstran¬ ces, it was not long before they were more or less under its influence. Uncle Billy passed rapidly from a bellicose state into one of stupor, the Duchess became maudlin, and Mother Shipton snored. Mr. Oakhurst alone remained erect, leaning agaiust a rock, calmly surveying them.
Mr. Oakhurst did not drink. It in¬ terfered wilh a profession which re¬ quired coolness, impasslveness and presence of mind, and, in bis own lan¬ guage, he " couldn't afTord it." As he gazed at his recumbent fellow-exiles, the loneliness begotton of bis .pariah trade, bis habits of life, his very vices for the first time seriously oppressed him. He bestirred bimseif in dusting his black clotbes, washing bis hands and face, and other acta characteristic of bis studiously neat habits, and for a moment forgot bis annoyance. The thought of deserting his weaker and more pitiable companions never per¬ haps occurred to him. Yet he could not help feeling the want of that ex¬ citement, which, singularly enough, was most conducive to that calm equa¬ nimity for whicb he was notorious. He looked at the gloomy walls that rose a thousand feet sheer above the circlng pines around hira; at the sky, omi¬ nously clouded; at the valley below, already deepening into shadow. And doing so, suddenly he heard his own name called.
A horseman slowly ascended tbe trail. In the fresh, open face of the new¬ comer, Mr. Oakhurst recognized Tom Simpson, otherwise known as "The Innocent" of Sandy Bar. He bad met lum some mouths before over a " little game," and had with perfect equanim¬ ity won tbe entire'fortune—amounting to some forty dollars-of tbat guileless youth. After the game was flnlshed, 1^^- Oakhurst drew the youthful specu¬ lator behind the door, and thus address- ™.^T,',f ^°™n>y. you're a good little S^^.Vtrr?t"'"'''8''n>We worth acent.
handed hini the money back, pushed him gently from theroom, andso made a devoted slave of Tom Simpson
There was a remembrance of this in his boyish and enthusiastic greetinc of 1 Mr. Oakhurst. He had started, he said to go to Poker Flat to seek his fortune' "Aloue?" No, not exactly alone; iii fact—a giggle—he bad run away with Piney Woods. Didu't Mr. Oakhurst remember Piney 7 She that used to wait on the tablf at the Temperance House ? They had been engaged a long time, but old Jake Woods had objected, and 60 they had rau away, and were going to Poker Flat to be married, and here they were. And they were tired out. and Uow lucky it was they had found a place to camp and company. All this The Innocent delivered rapidly, while Piney—a' stout, comely damsel of fifteen—Immerged from behind the pine tree, where she had been blushing unseen, and rode to the side of her lover.
Mr. Oakhurst seldom troubled him¬ self with sentiment: itlll less with pro¬ priety. But he had a vague idea lhat he situation was aot feUcitous.   He
retained, however.hls presence of mind sufflciently to kick ifncle Billy, who was about-to say aomething, and uncle Billy -was sober enough to recognize In Mr. Oakhurst's kick, a superlOT power that would not bear trifling. He then endeavored to dissuade Tom Simpson from delaying further, but In vain. He even pointed out the fact that there was nonrovlslon, nor means of making r^mp. But unluckily, "TheInno¬ cent" met this objection by assuring tbe party that he w^as provided with an extra mule loaded with provisions, ami by the discovery of a rude attempt at a log house near the trail. " Piney can stay with Mrs. Oakhurst," said The Innocent, pointing to the Duchess, " and I can shift for myself."
As the shadows crept slowly up the mountain, a slight breeze rocked the tops of the pine trees, and moaned through theirgloomy aisles. The ruined cabin, patched and covered witb pine boughs, was set apart for tbe ladies. Aa the lovers parted, they unaflectedly exchanged a parting kiss, so houest aud sincere that it might have been heard above the swaying piues. The frail Duchess aud the malevolent Mother Shipton were probably too stunned to remark upon this last evidence of sim¬ plicity, and so turned without a word to the hnt. The flre was replenished, the men lay down hefore the door, and In a few minutes were asleep.
Jlr. Oakhurst was a light sleeper. Toward morning he awoke, benumbed and cold. As he stirred tbe dyiug fire, the wind, whicb bad been blowing strongly, brought to bis cheek tbat which caused the blood to leave it- snow !
He started to his feet with tho inten¬ tion ofawakening the sleepers, for there was no' time to lose. But turning to where Uncle Billy bad beeu lyiug, be fouud him gone. A suspicion leaped to Itis brain and a curse to his lips. He ran to tlie spot where the mules had been tethered; they wore no longer there. The tracks were already rapidly disappearing in the snow.
The momentary excitemeut brought Mr. Oakhurst hack to tlie lire with bis usual calm. He did not waken the sleepers. The Innocent slumbered peacefully, with a smile on his good humored, freckled face; tbe virgin Piney slept beside her frailer, sisters as sweetly as though atlended by celestial guardians, and Mr. Oakliurst, drawiug the cloak over big shoulders, stroked his mustacbios and waited for the dawn. It came slowly in a whirling miat of snow-flakes, tbat dazzled and confused tbe eye. Wbat could be seen of tbe landscape appeared m.igically changed. He looked over the valley, aud summed up the present and future in two words —"Suowedin!"
A careful inventory of the provisions which, fortunately for the parti', 'lad been stored within the but, aud so es¬ caped tbe felonious fingers of Uncle Billy, disclosed tbe fact that with care and prudence tbey might last ten d.iys longer. " That is," said Mr. Oakhurst, sotto voce to The Innocent, "if you're willing to board us. If you ain't—and perhaps j-ou'd better not—you can wait until Uncle Billy gets back with pro¬ visions." For some occult reason, Mr. Oakhurst could not .bring himself to disclose Uncle Billy's rascality, and so otTered tbe hypothesis that be had wandered from tbe camp and accideut- ally stampeded the animals. He drop¬ ped a warning to the Duchess aud Mother Shipton, wbo of course knew the facts of their associate's defection. "They'll find out tbe truth about us all when they find out anything," he added significantly, " aud there's uo good frightening them now."
Tom Simpson not only put all his worldly store at the disposal of !Mr. Oakhurst, but seemed to enjoy the tbeir enforced seclusion, camp for a wees, and tben the snow '11 melt, and we'll all go back together." The cheerful gayety of the young man and Mr. Oak¬ hurst's calm infected the others. Tbe Innocent, with tbe aid of pine boughs, extemporized a thatch for the roofless cabin, and the Duchess directed Piney in the rearrangement of tbe interior with a taste and tact tbat opened the blue eyes of that proviucial maiden to tbeir fullest extent. " I reckon now you're used to fine things at Poker *'lat," said Pinej'. The Duchess turned away sharply to conceal something tli-at reddened her cheeks through its pro¬ fessional tint, and Mother Shipton re¬ quested Piney not to " chatter." But when Mr. Oakhurst returned from a weary search for the trail, he heard the sound of happy laughter ccliocd from the rocks. He stopped iu some alarm, and his thoughts flrst naturally reverted to the whisky—which be had prudeutly cached. " And yet It don't somehow sound like whisky," said the gambler. It was not until he caught sight of tbe blazing fire through the still blinding storm, and the group around it, thathe settled to the conviction that it was "square fun."
Whether Mr. Oakhurst had cached his cards with tbe whisky as something debarred the free access of the commu¬ nity, I cannot say. It w.is certain that in Mother Shipton's words, he " didn't say cards once," during that evening. Haply the time was beguiled by an ac¬ cordeon, produced somewhat ostenta¬ tiously by Tom Simpson, from his pack. Notwithstanding some dilliculties at- tendingthe manipulation ofthis instru¬ ment Piney Woods managed to pluck several reluctantmelodies from its keys, to an accompaniment by The Innocent on a pair of bone castinets. But the crowning festivities of tbe evening was reached in a rude camp-meeting hymn, whioh the lovers joining hands, sang with great earnestness and vociferation. I fear that a certain defiant tone and Covenanter's swing to its chorus, rath¬ er than any devotional quality, caused it to speedily infect the otbers, who at last joined in the refrain ; " I'm proud to live in the service of the Lord And I'm bonnd to die lu His army."
prospect  of  tbeir ei '' We'll have a good
one complained. The lovers turned from the dreary prospect and looked Into each other's eyes, and were happy. Hr. Oakhurst settled himself coolly to the losing game before him. The Duchess, more cheerful than Bhe had been, assumed the care of Piney. On¬ ly Mother Shipton—once the Strongest of the parly—seemed to Bicken and fade. At midnight on the tenth day she called Oakhurst to her side. " I'm going," she said. In a voice of querulous weakness, "but don't say anything about it. Don't waken the kids. Take the bundle from under my head and open it." Mr. Oakhurst did so. It con¬ tained Mother Shipton's rations for the last week, untouched. " Give 'em to the child," she said, pointing to tbe sleeping Piney. " You've starved your¬ self," said the gambler. " That's what they call it," said the woman queru¬ lously, as sbe laid down again, and turning her face to the wall, passed quietly away.
The accordeon and the hones were put aside that day, and Homer was for¬ gotten. Wben tbe body of Mother Shipton had been committed to the snow, Mr. Oakliurst took The Innocent aaide, and showed him a pair of anow shoes which he bad fashioned from tbe old pack-saddle. " There's oue cbance iu a hundred to save ber yet," he said, poiuting to Piney; " but it's there," he added, pointing toward Poker Flat. "Ifyou oan reach there in two days she's safe." "And you?" asked Tom Simpson. "I'll stay here," was the curt reply.
Tbo lovers patted with a long em¬ brace. " You are not, going, too," said the Duchess, as she saw Mr. Oakhurst aoparently waiting to accompan.v him. " .A.a.fiir as the canon," he replied. He turned suddenly, and kissed the Dueb¬ ess, leaving her pallid face aflame, and her trembling limbs rigid with amaze¬ ment.
Nigbt came, but not Mr. Oakhurst. It brought the storm again and tlic whirling snow. Then tbe Duchess, feeding the fire, found th.it some one bad quietly piled beside tbe hut enough fuel to last a few days louger. The tears rose to her eyes but sho hid them from Piney.
The women slept but little. In the morning, looking into each other's faces, they read their fate. Neither spoke ; but Piiie3', accepting the posi¬ tion of the stronger, drew near and placed her arm around the Duchess's waist. They kept tbis attitude for tbe resl of the day. That night the storm reached ils greatest fury, and rending asunder the protecting pines, invaded the very hut.
Toward moruing tbey found them¬ selves unable to feed the fire, which gradually died awaj-. As the embers slowly blackened, tbe Duchess crept closer to Piney, and broke tbe silence ofmany hours: " Piney, can you praj-?" " No, dear," said Piney, simply. The Duciiess, without knowing exactly— why, felt relieved, and putting her bead upon Piney's shoulder, spoke no more. And so reclining, the younger and purer pillowing the head of her soiled sister upou her virgin breast, tbey fell asleep.
The wind lulled, as if it feared to wak¬ en them. Feathery drifts of snow, shaken from the long pine bongbs, flew like white-wluged birds, and set¬ tled about tbem as they slept. Tbe moon, through tbe rifted clouds, looked down upon what had been the camp. But all human stain, all traces of earthly travel, were hidden beneath tbe spot¬ less mantle mercifully flung from above.
Tliey slept all that day aud the next; nor did they waken wbeu voices and footsteps broke the silence of the camp. And wben pitying fingers brushed the snow from Iheir wan faces, you could scarcely bave told from tbe equal peace tliat dwelt upou them, wbicli was she thut bad sinned. Even tbe law of Poker Flat recognized this, and turned away leaviug them locked in e.ich oth¬ er's arms.
But at the head of the gulch, on one of the largest piue trees, tbey found the deuce of clubs pinned to the bark with a bowie knife. It bore the following, written in pencil, in a firm hand :
lieueath this Tree
Lies the liody
of
.lohn Oakhurst.
Who strnck a Streak of Good T.uck
tin llie :SU1 of Noveniher, 1850,
aud
Handed in his Checks
Ou lho 7th l)ejeuiher,lS50.
And pulseless aud cold, with a Derin- ger by his side and a bullet in his heart, though slill calm as in life, beneath the snow, lay be who was at ouce the strongest and yet tbs weakest of the outcasts of Poker Flat.
good verbal and musical memory she remembered the hymns and tunes she heard; and, on returning horae, hegan to sing and play them In the dance house. The inmates gathered around her, and listened to such hymns as " More like Jesus would I be," " There is a Fountain fllled with Blood," "Just asl am, without one Plea," "Nearer, my God, to Thee," &c., and some of the listeners finally joined her in the singing. The effect upon the girls waa so marlted that the keeper of the house forbade " such goings on;"buttheblind girl would not obey the command. From that time forth she was a con¬ stant attendant upon the prayer meet¬ ing, and the hymns which she learned there she as constantly sang at home ; and from singing she went to praying. A feeling of awe settled upon tbe house¬ hold, and she was permitted to singand pray as she pleased.
The result was that she utterly broke up the infernal den. Her graudfather first began to attend tbe prayer meet^ ings; then her sisler and her brothers; then some of the dance-house girls; and h^ sick mother became Interested be¬ fore she died. Aud flnally the place was abandoned, and eight of the girls are now in good homes and living Christian lives.
Thua this poor Water street girl's af¬ fliction was made tbe meana, under Providence, of accomplishing a seem¬ ingly hopelesa work, in breaking up one of tlie oldest dens of iniquity in the city.
" God moves In a mysterious way His wonders to perform." —Oliver Dyer, in Eackarti's Monthli/, for June. 	
BAILBOAO FLIETATIOK.
The pines rocked, the storms eddied and whirled above the miserable group, and the flames of their altar leaped heavenward, as If In token of the vow.
At midnight, the storm abated, the rolling clouds parted, and thestarsglit- tered keenly above tbe sleeping camp. Mr. Oakhurst, whoae professional hab¬ its had enabled him to live on the smallest possible amount of sleep, in dividing the watch with Tom Simp¬ son, somehow managed to take upon himaelf the greater part of that duty. He excused himself to The Innocent, by saying that he had " often been a week without sleep."
" Doiug what?" asked Tom.
"Poker!" replied Oakhurst, senten¬ tionsly. " When a man gets a streak ofluek—nigger luck—be don't get tired; the luck gives in first. Luck," contin¬ ued tbe gambler, reflectively, is a mighty queer thing. AU you know about it for certain is, that it's bound to change ; and it's finding out wben it'a going to change that makes you. We've had a streak of bad luck since we left Poker Flat. You come along— and slap you get into it, too. If you can hold your cards rigbt along, you're all right. "For, added the gambler, with cheerful irrelevance— " I'm proud to live In the servico of the Lord, And I'm hound to die In His army,"
When night crept up again through the gorges, the reedy notes of the ac¬ cordeon rose and fell in pitiful spasms and loug drawn gasps by the flickering camp-fire.   But muslo failed to fill en¬ tirely the aching void left by Insulli¬ eient food, and a new diversion   was Sreposed   by   Piney—story-telling.— either Mr. Oakhurst nor his female companions caring to relate their per¬ sonal   experiences,   this   plan  would have failed, too, but for The Innocent. Some months before he had chanced upon a stray copy of Mr. Pope's ingeni¬ ous translallon of lUiad.   He now pro¬ posed to narrate the principal incidents of that poem—having thoroughly mas¬ tered the argument aud fairly forgotten the words—in the current vernacular Sandy Bar.   And so for the rest of that night  thc  Homeric  demigods  again walked the earth.   Trojan  bully and wily Greek wrestled in the winds, and the great pines In the canon seemed to bow to the wrath of the son of Peleus. Mr. Oakhurst listened with quiet satis¬ faction.   Most espeoiaily waa he inter¬ ested in the fate of " Aahheels," as The Innocentperaisted In denominating the swift-footed Achilles." So  with  small food  and  much of Homer and the accordeon, a week pass¬ ed over the heads of the outcasts.   The sun again forsook them, and again from laden skies the anow flakes were sifted over  the  land    Day   by  day  closer around them drew the snowy circle, until at last they looked from theU prison over drifted walla of dazzllug white, that towered twenty feet above their heads.   It became more and more dlfflcnlt to replenish their flreS, even from the faUentreea beside them,-now half-hidden in the drifts.   And yet no
THE WATEE STREET MISSION.
Every thing has been done uuder great disadvantages. The acconimotlatious are limited, and the Mission is frequent¬ ly crowded to excess. Tbe girls come to tbe door and beg so piteously for ad¬ mission that tbey are let in, when tliere ia actually no room for them. They will sleep on the Uoor, or on benches, or sit and sleep in cliairs, or undergo any hardship. And they do tlieir best lo be useful. Tbey do all the washing, ironing, sewing, mending, cooking, .scrubbing, and other work of the Mis¬ sion, and do it gladly.
Tbey are not watched. No espionage of any kind is kept upon them. The clotlies in wash are not counted. Every¬ thing is left to their honor; and the matron says tbat so far not a cent's worth of anything has ever been stolen, although every girl is a thief wben she comes tiiere. Tlie trust reposed in them astonishes them, at first, beyond meas¬ ure. Tbey cau bardly believe that any¬ body would or could trust them. The fact bas to grow upon Ibem by degrees. And every oue distru.sts all her fellows, and warns the matron againat them.
" Mrs. Smith," the informer will con¬ fidentially say, " you mus' n't let those girls have a cbance to steal anything; for if you do they '11 take it. They 're all thieves. You tlon't knoiv them as well as I do."
And so every one in turn whispers her warning in tlie matron's private ear; and every one in turu is filled with astonishment that noneof her compan¬ ions aeema inclined to steal after tbeir entering the Mission.
Although there is no perceptible dis¬ cipline iu tbe Mission, uo collisions occur among the inmates. This is an¬ other surprising fact, for they are by no means possessed of angelic tempers In their ante-Mission state.
And right here is a good place to mention that several pet theories ou tllis subject, whicli we bave held in comnion with others, have been strong¬ ly shaken is not overtusned by tbe facts developed in tbis Mission. It haa usually been supposed thatthe veterans in vice AvouId be the most difficult of reclamation; and it seems possible that it could be otherwise. But experience, thus far, shows that it ia the oldest transgressors who make the most stead-, fast penitents. Some who had been leading hideous lives for eighteen years have becoine thoroughly reformec, and have been for monthsearning their liv¬ ing by downright honest drudgery, 'fbese facts are so contrary to one's preconceived notions on this subject as to be actually painful and they ought to be looked into, aud analyzed, and ac¬ counted for at tbe earliest posaible day. These wretched creatures are kind to one another in tbe Mission, and ready to help nurse tlie sick, or jierform any friendly ofllce. They also take a deep interest in the permanency of one an¬ other's reforinalion. They also like to liave their Mission frienda keptinforin- ed as to tbeir owu success; and wbeu tbey begin to earn wages, they like to give a poriion thereof to the Mission iu repaymeut ofthe money expended for tbem, and also to help others who are struggling to break loose from the bond¬ age of iniquity.
THE BLIXD   GIRL   OF   WATEK   STBEET.
This girl's family had been flourish¬ ing dance-bouse keepers for years. Tbere were four generations of them in their Wuter street den at oue time—the great-grandfather being eighty years old, and the great-graudcbild a little girl of five.
The blind girl, whose instincts were naturally refined, fled from the house, on one occasion, to escape the disgust¬ ing companionship to which she was there subjected, and tlie repulsive duty of playing the melodeon forthe girls to dance; but ber mother becoming dan¬ gerously ill, she returued, from a sense of filial duty, to her bedside. While she waa Iu biding she was accidentally found by the missionary of the Water street Mission, at whose request the matron visited ber. The dance-houae not being far from the mission, (we omit the number, and also the name of the family, for the blind girl's sake) soon after her return bome she one day I attended the noon prayer meeting, and I became deeply interested.   Having a
" Katonali!" shouted the brakesman, opening tlie car door as the train pas¬ sed before a pleasant station on the Har¬ lem railroad.
I do not know as I should particular¬ ly have noticeu tbat we stopped at all, for I had been napping for some miles; but just as I was casting an inquiring, sleepy look out of the window, and settling myself for another siesta, my at¬ tention was attracted by the entrance of a young lady, a way passenger, who perceiving the oar well fllled paused be¬ fore me in evident embarrassment.
I scarcely wiah the reader to infer from tbis that there were no vacant seats; on the contrary, the chair I occu¬ pied was selfishly monopolized by my shawl and valise, whicb had excluded many an applicant, and so the moment I observed the car door open I mental¬ ly resolved to not budge an inch; buta glance at the new comer changed my mind.
Slie waa a young lady of exceeding beauty, dreased in modish and tasty styleof the present fashion. Whether It was her genteel aspect or the soft mel- anchoUy of her dark, impressive eyes, I cannot aay, but when ahe ventured al¬ most timidly to inquire if the half-seat at my side waa eugaged, I gallantly aroae and proffered It to her at once. 1 muat acknowledge I felt aomewhat flat¬ tered by her preference; for though a young mau and tolerable good looking, I had the sense to perceive tbat there were far better looking men arouud, who, like me, might have ahared their chaira with the handaome lady slraug¬ er. I fancied they envied me, too, as tbe fair girl sat plump down, and her dainty form nestled close to my side. " l fear I have disturbed you," said my companion in a low, aweet voice tbat filled me with its soft cadence.
" Kot at all. Miss," 1 rejoined with stereotyped politeuess. " 1 am happy lo oblige you.
Sbe bowed aud smiled in reply, aud a sbort pause ensued as is usual upon such acquaintanceship. Iu tbe mean¬ while the train bad started, and we rat¬ tled swiftly tbrough tbe tlelds and woods, uow decked witb the lively tints of spring. The conductor came in and went bis customary routine of exami¬ ning the tickets.
I perceived hers was marked for New
York, aud after some besitalion I said:
" You go to tlie city?"
"Yes," she rejilied with asmile of
winning candor, " that I presume you
have already found out."
"Ishall keep your comimny then," I observed pleasantly. "Tliank you, sir." There was a slight dignity T thought iu her tone, which rejielled further fam¬ iliarity, so aa I am a very modest man I drew back and said noihing further. One more station had been pasaed, and I waa last relajisiiig iuto my former ap¬ athy when my lady frieud, to my sur- jirise, leaned towards mo and wbisjier- ed: " I am so timid on tbe cars." "Indeed!" said I,   quite   charmed with her abrujitness; "you surely are well accustomed to travelling."
" Perfectly," she rejilied with some nonelialauce; but thatis notit exactly. Tbere are so many "dreadful accidenta on the railroad. " Dreadful indeed," echoed I. "And," added my companion with naivette, " it ia so unpleasant to travel unattended. I usually have my broth¬ er Charlie with rae; be is a splendid es¬ cort."
" Ifyou will allow me," I said quite gallantly, "I will gladly occujiy that position.
" I am much obliged to you sir," re¬ plied the young lady, with a grateful glance from her dark orbs, "yet I am accepting the escort of a stranger, not lhat I fear you, sir; bnt alas! I have a jealous father."
"Ajealous father," I replied aome¬ what puzzled aud surprised.
" Ah, yes," said the young lady, " it is my misfortune, while having wealth, health, and almost everything that the heart can wish, to be under tbe tyran¬ nical control ofan old stepfather, who treats me oftentimes in the most cruel manner; debars ine from the society of your sex, shuts lue up in the gloomy confines ofmy chamber, and treats me with pitiless rigor if I do so mucli as speak to or look at a man."
"What a monster!" I ejaculated, with a face of melodramie aympathy.
" Tbat la the reason," she continued looking around, " why I ara so diffi¬ dent about entrusting myself to your care, but 1 do it on one coudition."
" Name it," I rejoined, charmed and delighted wilh tbe strauge confidence the young lady was reposing in nie.
"Thatyou leave me the instant tbe cars reach New York.
I was so bewitched by the beauty and charmingensouaianeeof my new friend that I readily gave tbe required pledge; apparently quite relieved the young lady threw aside her reserve and talked aud chatted witb me in the moatjileaa- ant manner. It is needless to say tbat in an hour's time I bad so far advauced in her good graces as to press herhand, and the sweet half-coquettish smile tbat played arouud the corners of her cher¬ ry lips, did not seem, to disapprove of tbe liberty I bad taken.
" Do you know," said sbe, as we sat talking confidentially together "thati liked your face the first time I saw it " " It was sympathetic on both sides, then" I whispered, drawing so near to her that I could feel ber hot breath fan my cheek.
" Yes," she murmured, gently with¬ drawing herself from my glowing em¬ brace, for we had passed through tbe tunnel, and I bad taken a lover's ad¬ vantage and snatched a hasty kiaa.
" You are auaughty man,thenaughl- iest man I ever saw," she said in a low and tremulous tone. " If Pa should be on this main what would he say?"
"Never fear, sweet creature," I re¬ joined earnestly, "yourcross oldfather ia luilea away, and let us improve tbe present opportunity."
" Are you aware," ahe observed, half mischeviously, "thatthere ia auother tunnel beyoud a great deal darker, than the one wo have left?"
" I know it," said I with a tender glance at my fair enalaver. " We are drawiug near to it very fast."
Ouce more I placed ray arm round the waistof tbe young lady, and wrapped in the gloom ofthe tunnel I took sweet pledges from ber lipa. It was gratify¬ ing lo my vanity. All good looking young men are vain you know—to per¬ ceive that my lovely companion clung more affectionately to me than before; indeed 1 had scarcely time to tear my¬ aelf from her arms when we emerged once mora into broad daylight. Bhe had let her vail drop over her face and I could see the crimson flush through the net work of lace. Her voice be¬ trayed much agitation as sho whisper¬ ed
"A flirt, a coquette I"
"No, no," she returued hurriedly, preaslngmyhand.;-"Iam not a flirt but I dare not—mnoh as I think of you. I dare not let the aoqualntence proceed further.   Havepltyon me, have pity!"
She looked ao pleadingly, ao entreat- Ingly with those soft eyes gleaming through the Bllken>meshea.of her vail, that 1 codld not perauade myself to be angry with her. At last she consented to give her name, and banded me a prettily embossed card, I read, " Kate barrel. No. — University Place.
The train had reached Thlrtj'-second street, and I could easily see that my fair enamorata grew every monient more restless and disturbed. First her head peered through the window, tben ahe would half rise and cast hurried glances behind.
Already I was beginning to share the uncomfortable feelings of ray corapan- ion, as visions of an angry papa flour¬ ishing a cane over my head roae vivid¬ ly before my mind's eye, when sudden¬ ly Miss Darrel uttured an exclamation and darted from tbe car.
I wondered at the ease and dexterity with which she descended, though the car was propelled quite rapidly by horse power, but my wonder and surprise waa destined to be couaiderohly increased, when a few minutes afterward a thick set, stern looking gentlaman entered from the other side, inquisitively scan¬ ning the face of each passenger.
"Hello!" aaid he rather gruflly, pausing before me, " bua a young lady been occupying this seat?"
" Yes, sir," I replied somewhat dis¬ concerted and quite abashed.
"Light jockey, maroon silk, aud gray travelling cloak ?" pursued the geutleman Interrogatively.
" I believe that was her costume," I replied aomewhat aulkily.
"By gad! she'a giveu me the slip again!" cried the genlleman, slapping hie breeches pocket with much empha¬ sis.
" Given you the slip," I repeated, a sudden and awful light breaking on me.
" Yes, the jade is as sharp as a need-
" Pray sir," said I with a slight sen¬ sation of sufTocatlon, "may I beso bold as to inquire if you are the falber of that young lady?"
"Father! the devil—no .sir—I am a detective."
"Theu," continued I with desperate calmness, "who is the young lady",'"
"Bless your aoul, she is Nancy Dac- ors, tbe fashionable female pickpocket. By gad, air, haa she beeu playing her points on you ?"
Tbe detective grinned, and tho pass¬ engers gradually comprehending the sitnation smiled provokiugly. I did uot reply—the intelligence was morti¬ fying In tbe highest degree. So my beautiful travelling companion waa nothiug more than a member of the "swell mob," and I while flattering myself upon having made a conquest, in reality had been the victim of a cun¬ ning and designing deceiver, and well had sbo duped me, for even while I was taking thoae dear bought kisses she had dexterously relieved me of my watch and purse, and as I never saw her or my valuables sgain, it may be readily believed tbat my adventure was not without its moral, or that I was thereafter not quite as eager for a rail¬ road flirtation.
Andrea del Barto at Bologna; and the sweet bit of golden glory and splendor by Paulo Veronese chanced upon at Venice,—your wonderful '34 Margaux, sent to you as a special favor of that rare producer and exquisite judge, M. Lal- lande,—tbat delicious tipple of velvety softness and delicate aroma, every drop of which was priceless,—bought in for a freshman at Oriel, to be " wined " at orgies over broiled bones and devilled biscuits, and suchlike abominations,— emblems all of the baser uses we our¬ selves are coming to.
These things, however, you part with painfully,"T:egretfully, and sorrowfully ; but the aympathy with Ir     ' '
SELLING A HOBSE.
I have goue too far with you, sir.
alas, yon have ceased to respect me."
" My sweet charmer," I ejaculated, let us be friends; give me your name and address."
" My name and address," she respond¬ ed, " you mnst never know, I already feel frightened to tliink how far I have permitted myself to venture with a stranger.   Forgive and forget."
I have often thought tbat there was no more searching test of a man's tem¬ per aud self-control than to submit hira for an hour or so to the insolent de¬ mands and outrageous inaiuuations of a croaa-examiiiing barrister. If a pain¬ ful operation in surgery were to be con¬ ducted, not for the extirpation of aome baneful disease, or to arrest the pro¬ gress of some dangerous malady, but solely to display wbat tiiere might be of disordered or impaired organization in tbe patient,—if tiie man were to be operated on to discover whetlier the valves of his aorta were in good work¬ ing order, his lungs free from adhesions, and bis digestive organs in good re¬ pair,—it is just possible tbat tlie inqui¬ ry would cost a great deal more tban the answer was worth ; and yet the system of cross-examinaliDU proceeds very much on an assuinjition of this nature; aud is far less directed to elicit truth and unravel difllculty tban to confuse ami confound some unhappy Individual who, awed by tbe solemnity of the occasion and the novelty of the place, flnds himself sulijectcd to a series of impefliiieut reflections, corrections, and sneers wilh the paljiable design that, proving too much for liis temper, he may betray himfelf into anger, and worae, perhaps into self-contradiction. How poor a ligure men cut under this torturing process—even men of brains and ability—our daily journals inform US, since notouly isthe witness strictly limited to the terms of an unqualified reply, but the slightest attempt to re¬ sist tho insolence of bis questioner, or to retort on his rudeness, is suppressed by the court, at the threat of jiunish- ment held over him. Tbe judge ia like an old sporlsinan, in fact, wbo, though be no longer follows tbe hounds hiuiself, eujoya a ruu amazingly; and while etiquette forbids liini giving a " tailylio," his concurrent smile and genial look show lhat his heart ia with the chaac. Itis 'mi\eeila.mauvaisquarl d'heitre that a man spends in the wit¬ ness-box; but I solemnly declare that I'd rather be worried by Coleridge, or badgered by Chambers, than I'd go tbrough the course of inortiflcation, impertinence, and outrage incurred In the operation of selling a horse.
Thereare men who have never gone through the process, and wlio will not unnaturally perhaps set down what I have aaid to aome peculiar fretfnineas, or impatience, ou my part—some native irritability, and say. Why should tbe sale ofa horse be a greater trial of tem¬ per tban that of a house, a farm, a pleasure-boat, or a hale of merchandise? Aud I reply, simply because it is not a house, a farm, a pleasure-boat, or a bale of merchandise, but a horse is the thing to be sold. Of courae I do not apply what I bave said to all horses, nor to the screw you drive over to the station on damp mornings, or tbe slave that takes you out to dinner, and waits till all hours lo bring you back; nor to the cob with the initial spavin, that starts always on tbree legs, and never comes to the fourth till he and you are bathed in perspiration ; nor to that old wall-eyed gray that, being a daisy-cut¬ ter in youth, ia now a stone-breaker, and stumbles, over every third atep In hia trot; from each of theae you accept severance with equanimity and calm. You took tbeir services while you had thera witb as liltle sense of an identity about tbem as a mackintosh caper or an umbrella. I speak of the horse that you cared for aud affectlonated—tbe horae you' rode with aatiafaction to yourself, and admiratiou from the world—the horse j-ou had carefully " made to your haud," whose temper, atudied and well conaidered, you had adjusted exactly to your own require¬ ments—the animal tbat knew you and your pasaing mood of chagrin, depress¬ ion, good spirits, or bad, as nothing else in your household did or could know you—who exulted in your days of buoyancy with a bounding anima¬ tion, as he sympathized iu your sadder hours wltb a quiet demeanor-a thor¬ ough courtier, in fact, Ifit be not abuse of terms to call anything so loyal and so faithful a courtier. It is, indeed a bard necessity that compels you to part with hira. No need to ask wbat the nature of the necessity. You have been at the wrong aide or the post with fortuue. There are Various ways of bei ng so, and tbat is enough. You are driven to tbat moral deatii wbich tbe people blandly call retrenchment.
Ouly they who have gone IHirough tbis operation know anything ot its tortures. All tbe thiugs wliich have grown UJl around you, till from famil¬ iarity tbey become part of you—the very complementsof your nature, with¬ out wbich you could not address your- aelf to grave thought, uor give yourself up lo gay enjoyment,—all tbese to be chronicled and catalogued iu an auc¬ tioneer's liat, and aoattered to the four winds of heaven! The-arin-chair you had ruminated and reflected in till its padded back had aeemed to bave been designed for your occipital region, bought for a rheumatic invalid! Your atndy table, at which your woven fan¬ cies were manufactured into "copy," sent to a counting-house. Tbose green morocco causeuses, on whicii your choicest friends loved to lounge and smoke, while wit and wisdom blended themselves In tbe talk, and men show¬ ed how an Attic flavor could aeaaon the eaay convetBe of daily life,—these have caught the eye of a cigar-dlvan proprie¬ tor. And 8o It Is wllb everything,—the balf-dosen picturei you picked up in your rambles abroad,—that Cuyp at Haarlem; that Mleria at Bruges; the
lympathy with Inanimate ob¬ jects does not touch you In the tenderest poiut. At last you hear some one call out, " Is tbere not a liver-chestnut hackney ? I thought I saw aomething about a six-year-old horae, warranted aound, and perfectly trained to the sad¬ dle." Now are your troubles about to in earnest; you have borne tbe taste of your drawing-room furniture to be abused,—Its over-gorgeousnesa, or its excessive severity ; you have heard your Vandyke called a copy, and your Eera- brandt a "croute"; your claret, too, has been pronounced flat from age, deflcient in bouquet, aud weak in color; and your Persian carjiet, for whoae aullieu- ticicy the faintness oflhe tints vouched, baa been declared to be almost worn out. Well, you have gulped down your indignation, and perhaps consoled yourself in thinking df the ignorance of your critics; bnt now has como the raomentwhen ignorance becomea in¬ sult, and censure an open offence. You bear up tolerably well at being told lhat it is a pity he is not gray, or blnck, or bay, or roan; tbat the purchaser hates chestnut; that chest»uls are hasty, fretful, hot-tempered, and so on, and that he would not lake a present of a chestnut; theu from another that be is too tall, or too short,—without exactly aaying for what,—tbat he has some¬ thing trcaeheroua abont hia eye, or that hia tail ia not aet on in eome peculiar fashion whicb the buyer admires; but at length you come to more touching censures tlian these.
"Shows a deal of work,—tbose fore¬ legs won't stand it mucli longer,—back tendon knotted agooddeal!"crie3one,; "A leetle bit too straight iu the pastern for my taste," saya another, " and 'feet a trifle too amall,-bad shoeing would soon contract tbat heel for you."
"What's thia here?—capped hook¬ ah ! and a threat of blood-ajiavin loo. That's enough for rap."
"Are you sure bia wind is all right?" asks a third. " I thought be flanked a good deal after that canter. Would you mind letting your servant give him a sharp gallop? bas be carried a lady? will he run leader? how does he jump timber?" are all poured in upon you by people who have no thought of a deal; and onee more come iu tbe doubts upon " that eye, or tiiat tendon, or that frog." Now, with a full convic¬ tion of your beast's soundness, and a thorough belief in your critics' igno¬ rance, these suspicions are so many in¬ sults toyour understanding, and wounds to yourpride. Had there been no ques¬ tion of sale, you would bave resented these impertinences aa jiersonal inju¬ ries. Tbe converse of "Love me, love ray dog," is "Abuse my borse, abuse me."
Last of all coraes tbe fellow wbo walks round j'our beast, with bis eyes ranging from the pastern joint to the knee—never higher, and, with a jerk of the bead to the groom, says, " Take him in." Tbat wretch I could fire every barrel of m3' revolver at.
Altliough you are well aware that the animus of ail this disparagement is t» knock something ofl'the price—that in every censure of your beast's eara, or mane, or tail, tbere is tlie question of a ten-pound note—the insolence ia not dlmiuislied by tbat consciousness. You arrive at last at the fatal fact—that where money comes in, courtesy goes out, and that he who has tu dispose of anything, enters the field as a dealer, and must look for no other civilitiea tiian such as are common with liis craft.
Where a man's love for his horse has become a aort of family afl'ection, wliere tbe lionestj' of the animal lias made it¬ aelf a place, like a trusted quality, in bis regard, where you feel tbat sort of attachment that it is no abuse of ternis lo call frieudaliip for your beast, it is a sore trial to hear his points discussed by ignorance, aud his powers descanted on by fiipjiant insulBcieucy.
For my part, I bavo to own that I have never figured in the position with¬ out feeling like a slave-dealer. It was aa though I was setting up to sale, not only the strong thews and sinews that Iiad served me, but the aterliug quali¬ ties of temper, courage, and endurance —the brave intrej)idit.y tliat had carried me nobly through danger,—the dash and spirit that liad rallied my own heart to ilaring, .md tbo loyal obedi¬ ence that bad yielded to my will, even when that will bad been little better tban a caprice, ifnot half a cruelty.
Perhaps the worst of all, however, is the sense that throughout tho whole transaction you are trealed like one lit¬ tle better tban a swindler; every asser¬ tion you make doubled, and every as¬ surance you gavo ofyour beast'ssound- iiess, temper, or i)erl'ormancc,set down to the score of an unprincipled rascal, who would jierjure bis soul for the chance of astray five-jiound note. The men who would listen to you witli res¬ pect and deference possibly on auy other subject, who would hear your opinious on raatters of weightier mo¬ ment, and accord you at least the cour¬ tesy of appearing to think yon a person of truth and character, have here no scruple whatever in showing tbat they distrust and disbelieve you; that they look ou you as a raau pleading to a certain brief, and only eager for bis fee. Tbe people who would not irapugn your veracity, nor think of treating you with discredit, bave not the slightest hesitation now in listening to you with open incredulity, and actually permit themselves the liberty of cutting jokes on your asaertion-and all tbis because you are about to sell your horse.— Every Saturday.
danger of remaining after sunset. To all, hia answer was, " I am not quite through; I will go In o few minutes."
At last GeneralBusteed came In from the street, reporting that the crowd, now greatly augmented, were clamor¬ ing wildly for " ould Grayley." "It Is absolute madness," he added, " foryou to stay longer;" but the answer still was, " I Hm not quite through; I will go in a few minutes."
Eigbt o'clock at last came, and Col. Adams aud another genlleman sent out for a close carriaga, to be brought to tbe aide door, and tben going to Mr. Gree¬ ley, be accosted hira somewhat as fol¬ lows :
" Mr. Greeley, a carriage will be here instantly. We want you to leave the office."
" I'm not quite ready; I will go in a few moraenta," waa again the quiet anawer,
"We inaiat on your going noto. A hundred and flfty of ua are riaking our lives in defending your building, and you have no right;, to aild to our dan¬ ger."
At tbis tbe philosoiiber slowly rose, and witb his peculiar smile, said, " But wliy order a carriage? I could have gone as well in a street car."
"You couiiln't have got to a car. Look down tiiere, .and see tlie kind of crowd that surrounds the building."
He looked down and aaw what migbt have made a man of iron nerves turn a little palid. The infernal regiona had been unroofed, and the devils were there, shouting and hooting, aud howl¬ ing, and groaning on the jiavenient Such anotlier crew never got together on this or any other planet; and as he looked they shouted, " Come out, ye ould haytben; come out, .md we'll taicli ye a naygar's as good as a Irish¬ man."
" Well, tbey are a hard lookiug set, " be said, turning quietly around and drawiug "on his coat, preparatory to leaving; "where could those fellows have eome from?"
He was smuggled into tbe carriage, the door was closed, and in half an hour he was miles away, in safety.
As all know, the riot laated two days longer. During every bour of those two days tlio Trilmnc oftlce aud its editor were in almost hourly danger; but Mr. Greeley came and went as usual, and as usual attended to the duties of bis poaltlou, aa if only quiet were reigning over the blood-deluged city; and all this while some of the great dailies were posting hira as a poltroon; and even a venerable archbishop had the bad taste to publicly brand him as morally and physcially a coward !
Whatever may be tbe facts toucbinf Mr. Greeley's moral or physical cour¬ age, be showed upon thia occasiou an intellectual courage that .stood him in good stead, and constituted hini in very deed a hero.—Edmund Kirki;, in Each-ard's Monthli/, Jor June.
was to be reaumed, he heard several say in a low voice that they would shoot Mr. Baker In the morning, then steal all his goods and guns, and carry his wife away, captive. Listening a second time, to make sure of tbeir words, helieard tliom state how every part of all tbe work of murder was to be done. Wben all waa still in the tents, he crept out on his bands and knees, to wbere Mr. and Mrs. Baker were asleep, and touching Mrs. Baker by the sleeve, he revealed to her the plan. Before daybreak, her busliand had, with Saat's help, secured all the guns in the possession of tbe men. Wben tbey fully came to a knowledge of tbeir situation, Mr. Baker compelled them to fall into line, while he, and his wife, and Saat, each with two load¬ ed rifles in their hands, confronted thera, and proved, by Saat's tealimony, tbeir conspiracy and determination to ra urder.
" Now," said he, "you can have your choice, each oneof you—a bullet through your bead, or the privilege lo return, without camels or horses, to Khar¬ toum."
It was a long and toilsome journey, on foot, but it was better to go back tban to die, and so they slunk away to commence their disgraceful retreat. It was, ofcourse, a long time before other men could be obtained.
A WOMAH'SJ.AST GIFT.
Come here.   I know while It was May My mouth was your most precious rose.
My eyes your violets, as you .say Fair words, as old as Lovo, are those.
I g.ive my flowers while they were sweet, Aod sweetly you have kept them, all
Through my slow summer's great last heat Into tho lonely mist of fall.
Once more I give them.  Put them hy.
Back I a J-our memory's faded years- Yet look at them, sometimes; and trj'.
Hometimes, to kiss tliem through j'onr tears.
I've Ulmly known, afraid to know, That J'OU sliould havo new llowers tn wear;
"Well, buds of rose and violets blow liefore j'ou In the unfolding air.
So take from other hands, T praj-, Such gifts of Iiowcrs as mine ouce gave:
I gn iulo thc dust, since tliey t-'au only blossom from mj'grave.
A STOEY EOF. THE LITTLE FOLKS.
HOEACE GEEELEY IN THE EIOT.
Only a hundred muskets had heen brought into tho building during tbe night: but these, by a happy ruse, had been magnified iu the estimation of the mob Into at least five hundred- Tbey kept the rascals at bay for the night, hut were totally inauffleient for the regular defence of the building. With even a hundred brave men behind them tbey could no raore have witli- atood tbat Infuriated crew of five tiious¬ aud tban a feather can withstand a whirlwind. Thia waa lully apprecia¬ ted by the defenders, and it was deter¬ mined that if the building should stand over night, to load it up to the muzzle in the morniug. Accordingly, by the following noon, it was a perfect arsenal. The flrst floor was barricaded wilb bales of printing paper, and provided with asteam hose, that would bave bad¬ ly "scorched" auy intruder; and the second story had at onc of tbe wiudows a sraall cannon, loaded witli grape and canister, and at the others piles of hand grenades, ready to be hurled upon the rioters. The third story was equally well armed, and in the large editorial room were a dozen forty-pound shells, with fuses shortened so tliey would ex¬ plode on striking the pavement. These with a brace or more of muskets at ev¬ ry window, and a hundred and fifty de¬ termined men, all under command of an experienced army officer, comple¬ ted the armament of the building.
This arsenal Mr. Greeley entered about noon, on the secoud day of tbe riot, and making his way to the editorial rooms, he looked curiously about at tlie warlike preparations. " Wliat are tbese?" he inquired, inspecting tbe shells, which were rauged in an irreg¬ ular semi-circle near one of the frout windows.
"Balls of fire and brimstone for those red ragamuffins down on the side¬ walk."
" But I wanted no arras brought in¬ to the building. "
"Yea, we know; but Col. Adama now bas command of the Tribune, anil we propose to see this dauce out, if it lasts till doomsday."
Without further remark Mr. Greeley went to hia work, and all the day was knee-deep iu editorials and exchanges.
Meanwliile a noisy mob was in pos- aeaaion of Printinjj-Houso Square, and whoever entered or left the buildicj waa greeted with yella aud ciiraea, and threats of even rougher treatment. Still,.a throng of friends kept pouring in and out all the day, and tbese visi¬ tors so Impeded Mr. Greeley's work that it was eight o'clock at night be¬ fore he finished lils lost leader. As it g;rew towards dark one friend after an¬ other went to him, urging him to leave for home, and representing the great
TllE ORPU.VN OP THU NILE.
My story isa true one, of a boj- who lived iua town called Khartoum, on the liverNile, several hnndred miles south from the Mediterranean sea. If you will open your atlas, and turn to tbe uiup of Africa, you can readily aee its position. This boy had a singular name. V^ou might guess a tbou.-sanil tinies and not come near it. It was not Jolin, nor Frederick, nor Willinm, norCliarles nor any of the names such as belong to Engli.sli or American boys. It had four letters in it—two of the letters alike, and wasspelled 6'f(«<. How w;>uld you pronounce it—Sal, Sate, or Sa-at? It ia always ealleil aa if spelled Siiwit. Like bis neiglibors, Saat's father was Jioor, and hail niuch bard work to live. His boy lielpcd as he had strength and years
Wben but .six ye.irs of age, hia father moved to a connlry called Kordofan, aud put Saat lo tending goats. One day, when along way from horae with Ills ilock, .Saat saw coming toward him a Company of Arabs, on camels. He Was not ftiglitcnuil, tliougli quile sur- jirised at observing tliem ajipioacli closetobim. Suddenlj-oue of the men sprang from bis camel, and caught the little lellow. Tying liis hauds behind llilll and liis feet togetlier, two of the men jiut Saat into agreat, coarse b.ig, aud then slung liim on a camel's back. He began to cry, as almost any boy so served would, when the leader of the gang came to bim, and opening the mouth of the bag, toUl bim if he made any more noise be would cut him with a big knife he had in bis hand. Thus quieted, Saat was carried through a long and dreadful Journey of hundreds of miles from Kordofan to Dongola, on the Nile, at which place hia Arab cap¬ tors sold bim to slave dealers, who sent hiui to Cairo to be sold again to tlie Egyptian government as a drummer boy. Beingtooyoung, he was rejected. While in the handsof the slave dealers he heard ofa bo.v from tbe same region of coiiiitry as bis own, wiio was con¬ nected with a niis.^onary station iu the outskirts of tbe city, wbo, he thought, would protect liiin, if be could only reach the asylum. One night, wben all the pt-ojile about the liuuse were asleep, and it was so dark that lie could not sue his hand before him, lillle Saat slijipeii noiselessly out, and after wan¬ dering about mostof the night, carae upon the mission, and with the first dawn crept into the yard. He was well and kiudly received. Staying in tbe mission some years, he waa after¬ ward sent to a branch of the mission at Khartoum, where were gathered a lai'ge nuniber of other boj-s, nearly all of Ibein orphans. In a viait of fever to the city, nearly every one of tlie mis¬ sionaries died, and tbe boys becarae scattered. Saat fared no belter than tbe otliers.
Just about this time, a traveler by tlie name of S. W. Baker, from Eng¬ land, reached Khartoum. He had his wife wilh him ; and both together liad made up tbeir minds to penetrate lo tbe interior of Africa, lo discover if possible, the source of the river Nile. On the second day of llieir stopping at Kliar- louin, Saat strayed into theyard where Mr. and Mrs. Baker were at supper. Without uttering a word, be dropped on bis knees in thesand, in frontof tlie table, and after a moraent or two, lift¬ ing Ilia eyes to Mra, Baker, ho askod if sbe would not take bim as her boy.
" I am willing," said he, "to do anj-- tbing you will tell me. I am jioor; I bave no father, or mother, or brother, or sister, or even a friend."
But lie was told that thej- had all tho belp thej- wished, and so, rising, he walked slowly and sorrowfully awaj-. Next day he came and dropjied ou the sand in lbe same manner, and rejieated bis imploratiou. Out of pity, Mr. Baker made inquiries concerning his charac¬ ter, and finding hira well spoken of, concluded to take him, though he really had no use for his services.
Saat's joy kuew uo bounds. Hewas ready lo do anytbiug or practice any self-denial. . Mrs. Baker cut out and made for him a pair of pantaloons, then a jacket and blouse, aud wben fully attired, his appearance waa novel aud attractive. He himaelf learned the use of the ueedle, and became skilled in sewing patches on hig.knees and elbows. " Two things I wish of you, Saat," said IMr. Baker, oue morning; "tlie liist is lo be faithful, and.the .second ia to be obedient."
He explained tlie meaning of both worda, aud Saat waid he understood, and "would always be there." It re¬ quired a large number of men in tbe expedition wbicli the travelers wished to make, in tlie far distant soulh. Much time was consumed in making bargains, and at last everything waa Bujiposed to be in readiness. Nexl morning all moved ofl"to tbesouthweat. In the course of several weeks, and after almost numberless delays, theyreacbed a towu ealleil Gondokoro, Tarrying here some days, Mr. Baker discovered symptoms of unrest aud revolt amoug his men. Still he did not think it serious, and concludedahortly to resume his southward march. How strange that Saat was now to save his master's life! He slept In the camp with the men, and tbe evening before the journey
Months afterward, when the little company werestojiping among a people called the Latook.is, an attempt w.is made to poison Mr. and Mr.s. Baker, and the camels, but Saat, wbo mingled with the natives without e.xcileing their suspicion, overlicard the conversation which led lo the defection and execu¬ tion of the ringleader.
But not only w.ia Saat tbus .service' able and true to bia new-found master aud mistress, but Ibrough over two yeara of the moat fatiguing and danger- oua travel, he aeldom uttered a wcrif of complaint. Many a time would he work half lhe uight in caring for the carael.s. and horsea, and luggage, but never did he exhibit any thing excejit of a hojieful, happy, alraost hilarious spirit. Boyish and buoyant, he kept tlie sjiirits of many of the older membe™ of the jiarty from sinking, and was a perpetual source of comfort to Mr. aud Mrs. Baker.
Saat had a gun of hisown, a preaent from Mr Baker. It waa a short, doub¬ le-barreled afl'air; one of the smallest of the twenty rifles tlial belonged to tbu expidition. .Saat called it" Baliy." It could carry a bullet several Iiundred yards, and bring down an antelope, or a lion even, tliough it was not heavy enougli to kill an elephant or a rhinoc¬ eros. One da}', tho travelera came into a new and atrange country, among a new and atrange people. Tliey had never befoie aeen a white wonian, or even a white man, and tiiej- thonght their faces had been painted to look pale. Tiiey gathered aronnd Mrs. Ba¬ ker in particular, and looked at her hard aud loug. The guna were alao objects of wonderment, and the leading man wan¬ ted to know wbat they were for, and whether they could talk. "Talk'?" said Saat, "j'es, ibej- can talk very loud."
"Lettbeiu boar the Baby spe.ik,".said Afr, Baker to the iioy; "bul before it speaks, all these people ratisl form into line
So, with their chief close to Saat, they arranged tlieinselvea, and when every¬ thing was ready be took liia Baby, and pointing the muzzle upward, drew the trigger, aud Baby sjioke. With almosl the quicknesa of lightning the chief dropped on bia kneca, and then made a aominersault, nearly all of his men fol¬ lowing his example. Before they bad time lo complele their antics, Saat lel the second barrel also speak. Aa sud¬ denly aa before, the whole compauy ol men gave a bound In tbe air, and started oft'aa thougli they were next to be kill¬ ed. Putting the gun down, and laugh¬ ing with all his might, the boy called to the running crowd, and afler much delay and hesitation, tbey came back. Tiiey wero very anxioua to know bow auch a thing as a gun could talk so loud; it bad uo feet nor hands, no facu nor eyes, on Ij' abig, long, black iiioulli, but its voice was like tbe tbnndurin the mountains—very terrible.
When within about a hundred miles of the equator, and a little while before they came upon tbe great objecU of their search—the lakes lliat feed lbe Nile—Mra. Baker was jiiostraled Willi aun stroke. It was in vain lliat her lieart and fi.'et were rubbed. .She w-as quite unconscious, aud seenied, for the lime, dead. She was phiced on a trav¬ eling bed, called an angarep, and so carried aloug, but constant balls had to be raade, as a jiainful rattling iu the throat betokened suflbealion. At length a village was re.iched and tbehiilt made for the night. Mr. Baker laid lier carefully down in a ini.seralile hut. He ojiened her clenched leeth with a sraall woodenwcdgc, and Inserted a wet rag. upon which lie dropped water lo nioia- teii her tongue, which waa dry as fur. Tlic unfeeling men tbat made up the company paid no attention to Jlrs. Baker's condiliun or Mr. Baker's dia- tress. They j'elied and danced ai though all were well. There was notli¬ ing lo eat in the village wliere the stoji waa made, so the aick woman w.is plac¬ ed on a litter, and the mareli resumCil. Through swanijis and across rivers, through fields covered with higli and thorny grass, or struggling over decay¬ ed and fallen trees and underbruali, thej' kept theiraorrowful waj-. On the third duj-, just aa the first red streak told of the rising sun, Mr. Baker was startled by the worda, " thank God," I'rom the lijia of hia wife. He went to her bedside. Her eyes were full of madness. She spoke, but her brain was gone. For seven days the fever burned and the rain fell, but through all they were comjielled to move, as tbere was no place to slop aud nothing to eat.
Late one evening, on thc eighth day of tlic fever, a village was reached; and Mrs. Baker was laid down on her liller to die. Tbe men had put a new Iiandle to the pickaxe, and were hunting for a ajmtiii which to dig her grave. Bnt all this while Saat, true as Mr. Baker, was by tlie side of llie aick woman. He would not yield lo the tlionght of her ilying. AVhen well ahe had taught hiiu to say the Lord's prayer, and some otber Jietitions. Now iie prayed with all tbe faith ofhis litlie heart, tliat lhe Great Being in tbe sky wouid save her. I'be uight wore away. Saat was at the loot and Mr. Baker al tbe side of the litter. As the morniug broke, Mrs. Baker lay pale aa marble, and asleep. Death seemed to have come unknown toall; butshe was onlj-in a deep sleep; for at a sudden iioiae lier eyes ojiened. Tliey w-ere clear and calm, and iu toner' of tenderness she called for bolh lier husband and the boy. When nota ray of hope remained, God sent belp and saved her. Saat w.is beside himself for joy. He whirled on one foot, then on the other; stood on his heud, cried, hal¬ looed, rau like a deer, and j^ave the longest and wildest exclamations of de¬ light.
I cannot take j-ou through other wan¬ derings of llie travelers, nor narrate other lustances of the faithfulness of this uutnlored African boy. Eiiongli that Mr. Baker iliacovered tiie lake, which waa the objectof all hia wander¬ ings, and which was tlie true source of thu Nile. Euough that he sounded its great depths, and sailed for days and iiighlaujion its vast stretch of waters. Fully satisfied wilh tbe results of tbe expedition, prejiaration was mado to return. Home fell upon tlie ears of the woru travelers like a voice speaking frora the skies. Yet raucli of peril was to be encountered, and who knew but that some one would fallaprey lo fever, ora savage foe ?
Some diatance above Khartoum they embarked in boats and proceeded .slow¬ ly down the river. For some lime all went well, but at length a plague broke out, and several of the crew died. iSIr. and Mrs. Baker and Saat kejit well un¬ til within a hundred inllea oftlie town. Early in the morning Saat came^sliiv-
" Poor Saat!" whispered Mrs. Baker.
"No, not poor," returned tlio child, in fainter tone.
For an hour he slept a troubled sleep, once or twice opening Iiis eyes, and twitching bia fingera, then waking al- mo.st fully, hesaid,
" Mrs. Baker—mother," and was still.
Gently composing him, and straight¬ ening bis limbs, and jilacing bis arms parallel with iiis sides, tbe colored wo¬ man who was in ailendance bent over bis face aud ki.ssed him. Once more Saat's lips moved and the word " niotb¬ er" waa half ullereil.    It was his last.
"Does he sleep?" a.sked Mra. Jiaker of the good-hearted servant.
The teara were thick in tbe woman's eyes, as she sobbed, " He is dead !"
The boat atopjied. It waa a sanilj- shore; the baiiKa were high, and a clutnp of miiniisaa grew above high water mark. There Mr. Baker and his men dug Saat's grave.
"My men," aays Mr. Baker, "work¬ ed silently and sadly, lor they all loved the dear boy; be had been so good iiud true, so faithful, and obedient, and hon¬ est."
There tenterly thej- laid him in Uia grave on the desert shore, aud then tbe voyage wils resuined.
I have lold you tliis.storj" not lo make J'OU sad, bul lo ahow you how .i litlie iioy, with niilj- a few-advantages,coulil make himself ii.scful, and endear him¬ self lo all who knew hini. I do nol know your condition. It m.iy be you are an orphan; if you are, raj- liearl goes out to you and loves you. I could take you to my bosom, and pre.s.^ your lips and cheek with the warmest of kis¬ ses. But think of Saat, and learn bovv be won the hearts of othei's, and had his own fllleil at the same time. Be true, be faithful, bc honest, tliough at times ic may seem diflicult to be .so. There ia One who will beed when no earthlj; friend ean, ami God will protect and bring j'Ou at last to bis-own blesssd dwelling  place.—T/ir Utile Corporal.
LEGAL   NOTIOBS.
AO.Hi.vi.s'rn,v'r»uv Kuricr..
Eatate of Jacob ShiasliT, laleof Man heim lwp., Lancnster co., dec'd
JlTEKSoi 0 	
having been
LKTr^K-SoI admliiistriillon on saiii estato iiavlug been granted to thcuuderslgueU.nll [lensonsindebtcd thereloare requesleii liimaice
immedialepayment, and thoseiiaviligclai	
ordemandsagainsttlicsaiile will fri'seiitlliem without delay for settlemeut to tin: nnder¬ slgned.
CATIIARIN-E .'=iniiiSLEB, liiWC .SlIl.SSLKlt, may2y-Ct*2S Administrators.
AUHI.VISTRATOK-V .VOTICR.
Estate of Ephraim Frick, late of Earl township, deceaaed.
rr.TrEIl.Sof administration on said frstate jw-ith the win annexed having been grant¬ ed to the undersigned, all iiersons indeliled thereloare requested to make Imniedlato pay¬ ment, and those having; claims or deillanils agalnstthesamo w-lll presentthem forsettle¬ ment to the uiidersigued, residii.g in said tou-nshlp.
haxiel uifk,
liB.SM. Sl'RECIIElt. Jun 12-11*1-30 Admiuistrators.
AnjIIKIS-TRATOR'S NOTK^F..
Estate of Samuel Armer, late of Para-    dise township, deceased.
LETTERS of admlnisiratlon on -said ostaie having been granted to the undersigned, all persons indebted thereto are reijue.sled to make immediate payment,nnd those having claims or demands against the same will pre¬ sentthem wlthoutdeluj'rorsettlemenl to Iho uudorsigned, residing in Leacock township,
HBNRY K. DEKLIKIjEU. Jiiu0^«l-m^ .Vdminl.slratiir.
AOMi.vis'rR,vruic-.s .voricE.
Estateof Joliatban Leidigli, iate oftho village of Paradise, Paradi.se, town¬ shlii, deceaseil. LETTERS of administration on said estale having been granieil to the undersigned. Ill persons indebted thereto, arc reitiiesleil In make iminediate paj-ment and lho.se baving claimsor deniaiiilsagaiiist the same. w-IU pre¬ seut them without delay for setilemeut lo the uudersigned, residing tn .salit township.
ISAAC \V. LI-:lDlt;Il. Juu O-Ci't-.TO Adiiiiiiistrator.
AnMixiSTK.i'i'wit-.s .vo-rii'i;.
lislate of Jamea  Curren, late of Martic towiishi|i, deceiused.
LETTERS of ailiiiluistralliin.O. T. <\.,olis:iIil estate naving been granted to the under¬ signed, all persons Indtrbtisl therein are re- r,liested to make immediate selticmeut, and LUOSB having elaini.^ nr dciiialiils againsi llie same will present Ihem wlLlinutdeiay Inr st'l¬ tleinent tu tho iiudersigni-d. residing insald lon-nshiii. liE.V.IA.III.V 51. Il.vHH,
JuilUi.lilJ .-Vdlli illistrahir C T. A.
KXECU'I'lin-.S SOTH'E.
Estateof George Mailiii, late ofLan¬ caster cily, deceaseil. LETTERS tt'Slaiuenlarj- iin said rslnle having Iieen granted tn the nndersigneil,ali |)crsonsinilclileii tliereln arerequesled imiiake imnieiliate selt ||.inent,and those ii:iviii..;i;la I tils orileliiandsagainstlliesitnie. will iiresent ibeiu williout delay lor scttieiiteiit tn the Ululer¬ slgued, residing in said cit>-.
IIKXKV L'. .MAl'.TIN", JunSMIt.'Ki   E.vci'Olnr.
r.XEC'i;'i'«n-.s xotice.
Eatate of Janics Purcell, late of Jlan¬ heim townshiji, deccLsed. LETTEKia testamentary on said estato hav¬ ing been granted lo the nn.lersigni'.l,all persons llidebl etl tlieretoarerciiuesled to Illlike immeiliatosetlleinent,a nil llinse liavingi-ltil Ills oraemandsagainsttliesaine will present Ibem forsettlement tu the uiidersigued, realdlng in said townsliip.
r.\.TRIf:K JICEVOV. Jiiu2:Mir .I-J E.xeeuloi-.
B.^Ecni'ojf.s N'oric'E.
Estiite of John A. Boyd, latc of Urii- niore township, deceased.
LETTERS testamentary on the eslaleof said deceased having been grained In the iiu- lersigned, all persons lii'lebted tliereln are requested to make linnu-dlate ]>aj'metit. and those having elaims oi detiianilsHgainsl ti.e •same will present them for setlleinent Io lho undersigned, residing in said liiw*iislii|i.
>AT1IANIKL .M.VYEIl. ALIUS l.'liTLKK, may 1-1 G*t-ol l-;.\eei'Inrs.
~     E.XECIIT»RS- >-<>TI<'E.
Estate of Peter Oerliari latc of West Coealico townsbiji, dece.ised.
I ETTER a testamentary on said cstato jhavlng been gianted to I he nndei'sigiieil, all persous Indebted thereto, aro requested to mako iminediate paj-inciit,and those naving claims or demands against tliesame, wiil pre¬ sent them witiioutdeiay forsettlenient lo tha undersigned I'-xeculnrs.
PE IER GERHART, ISAAU.S.UBRIIART, LEVI W. .ME.NTZKlt, Jun IC-i;*t-.11 West Coealieo tw-ji.
KXECVTORS' IVOTICE.
Estate of Susanna Wanner, late ofSal¬ lsbury lowii.ihip, deceased. LETTEH-StesUimentaryoiisaiil eslate hav¬ ing heen grunted to the undersigned, ail persous indebted thereloare requesled to mako immediato settlement, and those having claims or demamls agai nst tiie same, wiit pre¬ seut tiiem w-lthoutdelay Inr settlement to tiio undersigned, residing in said tnwnstil|i.
JuneO.Ct-;ill
sOld.mon wa.nn'kr.
JOSEl'H WANNER.
E.vi>cnlor.s.
F.XE0UTOR-M .VOTICE.
Estate  of  Mary  Burkholder,  lalc ol
Weat Lampeter twji., Lancaster
county, deceased.
LETTERS teslnmentiirj'on said eslate hav¬ ing been granted to tliu undersigned, all persous ludebted thereto are requesicU to iiiak e Iinmedlatesettlemeut,and those liaviiigclalms or deinands agaiust tiie same will iiresent them witliout uulay for settlement to the un¬ derslgued.
.r.VCOB BnUKHOr.DER, Kxeentor. Residing iu West Lamiieler twp. may 211 ^__^ lii'-S
.V.SNIU.VEE-.S XOTICE.
Assigned Estate of Jolm  Strickler of Mount Jo.y twp., Lancaslei'countj'.
JOHN .STRICKLE,Rof said townshlii. liuving ny deed of volnntary assignment, liau-d isiil'. assigued anil tninsfcrred all tiis est^.te ainl el¬ feels to the undersigned, for In., henefli ot llie crcditors-.f the said JUIIN Hl"RlCIvl.t-:i:. lie lliereforegives notiee toalt iiersnns imlebieil In (.aid iuisigiior. lo make piij'iiieiit to lio- nu¬ dersigned wllllnut Uelaj-, imd Ih.isi- iuie'iig claims to present ttiem tn tit., niideislgiied. OEOltOE liYKOli. A->igii.i. myai-lit-2JI        Residing io Elizaliellilnun.
eriiig iuto the presence of if ra. Baker, and said, " I am .sick—verj' aick." I'oor, dear child! he waa sick indeed. To¬ ward noon a deliriuni set in, and as the boat stopped to collect firewood, ho plunged iuto tliestreaiu to cool the fever that waa on bim. In the evening he stretciied hiuiself helplessly on bis mat, and cast wlBtful glances at the faco of Mrs. Baker,wbo gave hini a cup of cold water, mixed with a few lumps of sugar. Bul notbing would relieve him. Bay after day be grew worso. Sleep would not come, morning or eveuing, day or iilgbi.. On tbe morn¬ ing of the third day a change occurred; the fever had left hira, and he waa quiet aud appeared better. Mrs. Baker sat by his side and talked to him, but be could not reply. After a little he was dressed and laid to rest upon a clean mat, Mrs. Baker moistening his lips and tongue by placing a piece of sugar In his mouth.
A.S.SIUNEE-.S .-tol'ICK.
Assigned  Estate of .loliii  Cober   and
Elizabeth, liia wife, of -Mount .Toy
twji., Lancaster county.
JOHN COISER. of satd township, having l»j- deed of voluntary assignment, daied IStiil. assigned and iransterreil all lils esiaie anil effects lo llie undersigned, for tho lienellt or the credihirs of tlie said .Iniiii Cober, he Ibere- Ibro gives notice In alt Jiersnus Ititieliieii to -said nssignor. loniake payment to ili,,. unili-r- sigued wittiout deiaj'.and those liavlug elaims to pre..ieut them to
GEORGE BYUOn. Assignee, liiay!10'fit-a> Residing in Elizabellltnwn.
ANSIUMEE-.S XUTICE.
Assigned Eslate of Jacob Kajiji, of MonntJoy townsliiii, Lan. co.
TACOB K.'Vl'f. of .Mouut .loy lownsliip. liav¬ ing by ilecil of voluntary assigninent, ilale.l MA'r, ISIBl. assigned Iiiiil Iransterreil nit his i;state and elfeels to tlie undersigiied. fnr Ilie benetit ot llie er.alttors ol tiio said .l.\i:01: K.-VI*l». he Ilierefnre gives tioliee to alt iier.sons Indebted to said assignor, tn make payment to Ihe undersigned without 4elay, anil Iliose having claims to present tlieni to
GEORGE I'.YltOIl. Assigue... iny2I)-Cl-2S       Resldlngin Elizabellitou-ii.
IST  TIIE  OUPIIAXS'   COl-RT  OF   I-.tJi- CAKTEIC COU-VTV. PA.
IN themtitterof the real esuue of-lohn Rnsii- ong, Iatc of Upper Leacock townslilp. In said couuty.deceaseii.
Inquisition read and conllrmed, 7ii.ii, Maj-'JI, ISG).
And now. .rune LlSfill, tho Court on motion of J. B. Llvlngslon. attorney, gnint a rule ou tiie Heirs and legal Representatives of said Joiin Bushoug. deceased, to aptiear in open Court, on the TIIIRD .MONIiAY'^Ln' AUOlVr. A. D., ISlill. at lOo'clock.a. m., and aeee|il or refuse the real csUito of said John Ruslioiig. dee'd, nt the viduatlon thereof, and in ease nl refusal to show eanso why tho same should not be sold.
Bv the Court. [Atiest. I J. (1. MERCEK.
June r^3t-30 Clerk.
FRESH TVRXIl' HKED.
JUST RECEIVED  FBE.SIt  PURPLE TOP. LARGE  GLOBE   A.ND   L.\RGE   tVHlTE FLAT TURNIP SEED.   Kor sale at
JOHN P. LONO * SON.S. Drug Store, No, 0 Nonh Queeu street.