Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              >
VOL. XXXIX.
LANCAjSTDR. PA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1865.
NO. 50.
THK
lantaster ^%mm ^ Jerafti
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GESTIE KAr^AWAXENIWe.
Gertrude came and seated heraelf on ihee^Tpetat my feet, with her pure faoe uplifted pleadingly to mine.
'.' Tired of what, Gertie 1" I asked, won¬ dering seriously what Ihere oould beia her bird-Iilce way of taking life to tire one. ¦
" Ot waiting for something to do in the world. Vou who are' always busy—of I course you do not sympathize with peo¬ ple who get time to be miserable. Now I am perfectly wretched, and 1 don't think you even knew it."
I opened my eyes very wide, for truly I did not know that tbis smiling, dainty little lady had found a deeper sorrow in theseventeen years she had been the pet¬ ted lamb of the household than the loss ofa canary. She did not like it that I should seem eurprised.
"Now don't look wonder-atrioken!— You working-people do take everything Bo terribly in earnesti I suppose you wouldn't know what I mean^if I told you that I aro beginning to grow nervous and restless with this happy life of mine. It is too full of sunshine. It separates me from other people, and I feel lonely. I want something to do that will absorb all the will and energy in me as your work does I want to earn my reat, and enjoy.it aa you do. In fact I think I need to be awakened from this dreamy, comfortable happiness whioh oame out of the cradle with me. Perhaps a little trouble wonld be good for me—make a better woman of
fesaibhtl'tferTibe'to the sick and wounded soldiera out ofpure benevolence, receiv¬ ing no compensatiOQ but thegratttudeand blessings of the poor fellows he nursed to life, as it often seemed.' " Itis his mission, he says; I Suppose he has had his awaken-
Ah i Gertie had found time to study that out, amid ill her new duties, and trials. The next letter oame after three weeks' wailing.
The colonel was better; but he had been aaved as by fire.
Dr. Clayton was himself worn down with watching, and almosi ill.: Gertie was well:   yoa .witt always Vhiofc bf they had been,very osrejul of herstrength; I ,iie i^relbli:who stoie jo.
ed from me as if I had been a loathsome reptile.
" 'God forgive me I I did not mean to say that to you I I believe I am wild to night;'   :.;
" I lifted ^my head » oakly to look into his eyes, whiiehe said those, cruel words. He.was'.ivaltuigback, »nd forlh rapidly: and r htyd.heyei'seen a living face so per¬ fectly; white as faisjraj then. He came j baefc'toJoe-afte'r a littlls while, and stood
eo thai'I could Jiot see
"'Qertia^jouare thinldng that I am
acting a Biean.untnaril jr part towards you.
mesa dishoner-
hia face.
and never so happy.; She did not know how well. I would know what that meant. " Oh, Graeie," the letter went on, " I can never tell you how much we owe te Philip
our esteem only to fling'.ittapkwlioiicaiprlida directed. You will remember the happiest days of my wtiole iife'oniyto desiriii the base stranger who crept into your regard, and tben trif- Clayton. A wholo lifetime would not be | jedjwUh your friendshii). It would be bet¬ ter for you to believe, this, perhaps, than to know- why lam loariag you; but I can¬ not bear it. Ohl Gerda, I oannot bear it.'      ¦
" His voice was a wail now- i"'I meant to go away,j and let you for get me, or rememb|er ma with con-
long enough to repay his kindness to us. That dreadful day when' thoy left papa upon the field, Philip found him and brought him away; and he has been with him through all the danger since. It is very singular that all the people in this place call him by his Christian name; but
sroSY OF A FI.40.
[On tUa (Ijy of tbo gr.and rovicw many old, tatteroi banners were borne past, some with only a picco of fringe or a ribbon of tbo silk left. Oao had tbo staff boand up liivO a brolioo limb, and ono WJ3 eatlroly bare. t5oniu geatlcman' gavo threa roufingch-iors for tlia *' flag-staff." It was crowned witb a fiao boa<iact of resos sbroudcd in * irape ]
.   'Xwas a go,-g-ou3 J;ijr ia the sumtair time Of eigbtecn sixty-one, "When brigbt eyes gazod oa mo with prido
And said that I was dono. And a beautiful lady witb golden hair
Gave mc lo tbo buys in bluo. And bade them through battlo sajoliaand firo To carry mo safely through.
And thea and tbare tho bravo boys sivaro
That I undimnud should bo; ,   '
That Dot onc stir our foe shinld m.ir     lJJ
In the battle's raging Bca. Or if tbobullets pierced m3 through,
Or storms my hues should rust, That never dishonor or defeat
Sbonli trail mo in tho dost.
I wont tl Corinth—then homo again, Wbcro a loving welcome met me ;
Then out again oa a now campaign. For tbo boys could not forgot mo.
Oo Lookout aiountain's midty height Thoy bor. mo bravely through, ^      At Tunnel HiU nnd Buijard's Hoo't
¦ And at Resaca too.
Through Etowah, Ballas and Koncsa'.v,
By the Chattlhnocbco's banks. Four days before Atlanta's walls
^Vherc they thinned our blee-Jing ranks,     i Then on nnd on to tbe waiting sea
We were welcomed at Savannah, Wbilo many a soldier wiih pride and glee
Gathered bis golden manna.
Then after a rest, they.bore mo on ¦Through tba swamps of Combahce,
By tbe Ediato's miry banks . And tho quagmires of Pedoe.
Throogh Averysboro' and Bentonville And Goldsboro' wo passed.
Till out ofthe wilderness wc camo To Raleigh's spires at last
And now, to-day, ot this grand revicir,
Thoy bear me proudly on; And thoy lovo tho old flig mjro than tho new,
Tboogh my Stars and Stripea aro gona. For manly voices cheer aloud,
And brigbt eyes dim witb tears As they think of the forms that around me bowed £isii£_In their happy epring-timo^ears.
.*-    0 proudly, proudly thon bear mo ou—
The noble boys in bluo. Though overy Star and Stripo is gone.
They at laet havo brougt.t me through. And of every noble form that fell
Beneath thoso victim-stars, Tho magic pen of fame shall tell
When writing of those wars.
But, 0 ! for tho mother's aching heart.
And tho orphan'a dark young years, And the young bride's lonoly, bncly pathj
And tho sister's bitter tears. I could tell a talo of woa so deep.
It would chill tha strongest heart; It would mako from eyes unusod to wcop,
Tho unbidden tear-drop start.
For many a noblo, manly form
Has fell these stars to save. And far aw.ay from frienda and homa,
Has found a soldier's grave. And some with ghastly, sko'.oton forms,
Wore carried bomo to dio. And bnt ten of tbo old Hirst company
Arc marching proudly by,
.fc      And DOW I como liko a poor old man With hie duty dono for lifo, Never to mix in the fray again In tho battlo's deathly, sirifa. But the soldiers dead and the. bright sla'ra gono, Iiave saved our nati.vo land. And tho broken hearts will bo soothed and healod, By tho Father's loving band.
And if Ho were boro, cur noble chief.
Who loved tbo flag ab well, I would sink witbout a aigh of grief
Into Lethe's soundless cell. But the sweat spring fiowers, tho dark crapo shroud,
And tho White Houso empty thero Gboko op the voico and tho about so loud
Sinks to a whispered prayer.
0 mattyrad chicfmio ! 0 noble friend !
By every tattered rag That passes your desoiato home td-dfly, , Your " boys'' have saved tho flag ;
And Abrabam Lincoln'a name shall be
An altar and a shrine, Whare nitions longiag to he freo
May light the Dre divine.
G£X. Su'jr.jn.s- CoKXEUED.—awhile    en. Sherman was in Gen. Howard s tent one day during the Georgia  campaign,  the medical director, who knew that the for mer liked a "glass" occasionally, while Gaoeral Howard was total abstinenoe, told Sherman that he looked weary and ' ill, and if he would go with him he would give him a ssidlitz powder.   The General acquiesced in the proposal with alacrity, but General Howard  opening his valise begged him not to leavo and produced a powder which he mixed and gave to Sher¬ man. The latter, though a little chagrin ed   the loss of tha ardent,  was., much amused at Howard's ruse a-nd drank the cup manfully.   Thoby-standers who.saw. tbe joke smiled as loud as was proper un¬ der circumstances.
A Pnnosornicii. Cabu.^.v in Mobile thus speaks of the section over whioh his wheels make their tracks: "If you run Over a youngster down here in this herQ *ara," said he, "thefolksdon'tsay Jioth- iii'—kasB they have got more children- than whites for 'em—but you Jist ruii over a goat, or a sow, or a pig,:and bleat if a mob ain't alter you in two minils I" ' '
Among the sayings attributed to Admi¬ ral Farragutis one that "you can no more make a sailor out of a landlubber by dressing him up in a seatoggery and put¬ ting a commission in his pocket, than you could make a shoemaker of him by filling him with sherry cobblers.".
An old bachelor sa^i that the proper name for marriageable young ladies ia waiting maids." ' ."^
"Bestill, Gertrude Ray!" I command¬ ed. " I will not hear you talk like that I do understand you, and there was a time in my lifo when I was as foolish as you aro to day. When my limo of awakening came it was so sudden and startling that .1 rras more like one stunned than awaken¬ ed. Every humain life has somewhere such a shock, I think. Be thankful every day ofyour life that yours haa not come yet."
"Oh, Grace, what a croaking old owl you are—isn't this spray of buds sweet, pretty ?—look at mo, now 1"
She bad fiitted from me, and stood be. fore the mirror fastening a Uttla branch of moss rosebuds in her brown curls. She had broken them from my pet window- plant just as if I had not counied tbem over and over, and waited for their open¬ ing with Idngins eyes. Everything in our great house belonged f o Gertie just aa all the out-door bloom belongs to the butter¬ flies and birds. She turned saucily around and«aid in her quaint, childish way:
"LMkat me, Cjusin Graoe. Tell me that I am pretty-please."
She did not look like one who is'^ap. proacliing a great Kfe awakening. And yet, in my heart, I felt that her words meant something. What was this stir ring and flutter of her young soul—was her pure, glad childhood taking fiight, and would this baby queen, this regal pet of ours be liko all other women ? Would she build a temple, bigh and holy, to an idol of clay and sit pale and sorrowful among the ruins wben it falls, as other women do! Sho was pure and sweet, and very lovely. Would she stand before me, some day when the roses wjro dead,, un¬ crowned, and white and patient f God knew.
" Why don't you smile, Grace ? You don't think I'm pretty, do you? You don't care for rosebuds I" she pouted.
" A gentleman down stairs to see jou^ Miss Gertie." ' -
"Who is he Madge?" she asked, care¬ lessly.
" He did not send his name. He said he came from Col. Eay." " Oh, I am so glad!" I do not know why it should have been so. but my heart gave a great throb, and stood still, I thought I was getting ner¬ vous, too ; I'was'out of patience with my¬ self, for i had frightened Gertie by turn¬ ing pale; sbe came and leaned upon my arm.
"What is It, Graeie? Doyou think papa is sick—or dead ?"
"Ob, no,, not dead, Gertie. The tele¬ graph bring-j all the sad news. I will go down with you to meet this bearer ofgood tidings."
We found a gentleman standing in the parlor, before a fine old painting, that was Col. Bay's pride among all his pictures- Sh arms were   folded   across" a broad chest, and his head was  turned from us, 1 revealing a profile of fine features and a; broad "white forehead,  crowned  with abort, brown curls.   He turned as wo on-, tered, and his dark eyes, lighted with a singularly beautiful ezpressipn as they, met Gartio's.fiushed, eager lace.   She had;l forgotten the rosebuds jn her hair, and her blue eyes were full of tears.   I had¬ never seen ber sweet faoe so perfectly love; ly as it was tben.   That man had wonder: ful eyes; looking in them once you would bave trusted him without asking aught that belonged to his past.
" My father—what is it?" she asked, breathlessly.
He smiled, a rare' pleasant .'smile th'at strengthened my sinking heart; and bis voice corresponded with those strange sor rowful, smiling eyes.
"You have been excited—alarmed, I am afraid. Miss Eay. The Colonel,, was wounded at Vioksburg—very slightly— and now, that he is able to enjoy it, he thinks (hat he needs bis daughter to lead and sing to bim, and help him get well Ihave a letter from him which will ex¬ plain his plans.-'-'
Again that smile, and I noted the pe¬ culiar expression that settled over hislaca when it pasaed. It was like the closing together ol the olouds after a gleam of sunshine breaks out in a stormy day. It wasjuot sadness; it seemed too holy for that; itwaj the <iuiet, patient look that oomes over the face ofa life-long sufferer, who has given up bope long ago, and only waits for the end.
Whtla.Gertie read the, letter' I brought J refreshment, and learned that Col.. Ejy had planned for tbam to coma on to Wash¬ ington im.mediatelyi Gertie oame back with flushed cheeks aid downcast eyes, yet looking veiy happy.:
" A postscript for you. Cousin Grace," ahe said, demurelyl-.:- .-:¦¦,• ¦ --r.: I took the letter, and read—" Yoii, need not fear^ tp trust our litUe^ifl to,n.-:^lky ^ ton's oare. He baa BaT6d-;by'life,"and if Gertie oan learn to love him -we will re¬ ward iim nobly, eh Oracle?,'
It was Tike'the Colonel, ind joke, .:of course, that postscript. Bat somehow I could hot help fealing that GertrUda's merry life was coming near its awakening to sober earneat.; Xhey left me on thaaf. ternoon train, and I went back to my work and waited. The big house seemed still and lonely without Gertie.; bat [then, as ihe had'Baid, i was always busy.,
:Her;firstTtetW vv«(sbri^f ;;th'ey;.^t^^ ar¬ rived safely, and found her father as well aa they had expected,-nothing more.
_A week later Bhe wrote-that ths-Wduhd had OBsiiiiied a da'ngefoiis apipeacaboe,-Bnd tbe Colonel -was -wild -pitU-'Mev. ,i)ii Ciay^^U -was TV J jfi bm'^iay^iiji^'i^i, ?de-', voted.almpsA-pMluaiyeixio'iuaL
have fallen into the habit now, and it tempt; but I have| no litrengtb to go.— just seems natural.'' You hava been too purj. and womanly in
After tbisGertie'B letters were eloquent nnvailing your sacred idve to be deceived with Philip Clayton's warm praises. H» now. I inust make a ojinfession whioh I was perfect in her eyes. I think that she thought no torture couM writing from ma. grew to feel as the aoldiers did, a tender, You must not quite loatke me, Gertrude.
reverencr for the man who ministered with a woman's devotion to Ihem all. Col¬ onel  Eay did not get well as they had
rmigEt" go Home with you, and glide with the current of eventa into the haven of perfect earthly blissj which you hava
hoped. He was too old now, to recavar j prepared for me. But I should take a rapidly from such a shock, and tliey de- gore conscience with m». To be satisfied, cided to come home. "Phil comes with i mmt ba wretched. llook at me, Gert- us, of course," Gertie wrote inher blind   rude Eiy !'
confidence of the future. Gertie's awake-j    He stood bravely before me,   in his ning was very near now that sha had  dark, splendid beauty, ceased to long for it. "'Look at my faoe, my form, my Aeart,
I had everything prepared for their .ar-   if yon willi and tell me how I am unlike rival and thera was still a day to wait be- ] other men,
fore I conld expect them. The last eve¬ ning which I was to spend alone brought the postman unexpectedly to tbe door.— There was a letter directed in Gertrude's handwriting, and I went to my room to read it.
"Dear Cousin Gracia," she commenced, "do you remember tbat day when yon told ma how your life awakening came bo sud¬ denly that you seemed to yourself to be stunned ? My hour baa cume, audi think 1 must be feeling a3 you did, or I could not write calmly to you. Have you thought, dear Graeie, in tbese months of watching by my father's side, that I was learning to love tbe noble, tender man who shared my care ? I confess it to you, now that it is all over. Perhaps I ought to be ashamed lo own how I hava loved him; but it seems aCt sad and holy, that I do not feel it Bhame. I think that you must have known, for my heart has al¬ ways laid bare bjforeyour loving eyes.— We are coming home, as I told you, and I want this letter to reach you before I do, and this subject need never be mention¬ ed between ns again. IIow shall I begin this story, wbich I. do not yet realize my ¦ self? In my last Isaid to you, 'Philcomes with us, of course.'. That was a decision of papa's and mine, without consulting Dr. Clayton himself. This morning I found papa looking ill and very grave. — He told .me that he waa feeling worse; but I replied cheerfully that ha Would soon be well, when wo wero oncehoine.-^ "Do you know that I am to loose my phy¬ sician to-day, Gertie ?" he asked, looking steadily in my faca. "What tto you mean, papa?" I tsked "Tbat Dr. Clayton will bid us good-bye' this afternoon. He U going to find somer' body who needs him mora thon we do.' "And who needa him more than we ?" "I do not know," he answered, gloomily, and then, looking into my ayes vary earnestly, he adie-1, "can yoa ohings hii purpose, little ona?" My heart wis full of sun¬ shino and singing birds, all day. I could keep him tvith us alurays. I would never let him go. I was glad that I was young and beautiful, for I oould keep him. 1 knew tbat ha wjh going away baovise be Jo-/od ma; this lofty man in hia hum'dity^ I couli bid bim, stay; after all he had dono for u3, it would not be bold to say to him, "Our northern home is vary love¬ ly; stay with us always there." I said this all very softly to myself exultingly, arid yet I trembled wban lata in tha day I heard hi? step on the stair, at my door. I went to meet him, and I saw that bis step was unsteady; and when I. reached my hatid to him, be sank into the chdrnear- ejt tha door, and civated b'ls eyes with hi« hand. "Pardon nae. Miss Eay, I beBeye I aiii excited ; I have come to say. good¬ bye.": He was breathing heavily, Ukaone in a night mare. " And 1 will not hear yoii aiy good-bye. Papa and I have ar¬ ranged it all; and we need you more than the men-hare du. They have all the Bur¬ geons; we have only you. Ob, no, yott must not say good-bye,",! saidi gByly.
' "I cannot go to the North Vfith you. It is impossible—quite itdpbssible," he said, ib thosa quick, suppressed -tones people usa when tbey are trying not to cry out witb.pain.
"And wa oannot sparo you. It is im¬ possible—quite impossible," I repeated. ' " 'Gertrude—Miss Kiy—I am suffering more thata you can even coinprehend ; but yourkindpess ia s new'{iurt,' he added in that same breatbless tone.
" 'O'j, Philip; why are you leaving us7' I cried, pressing one of bis hands in both of mine. I meant to force hiin to a dph- fession, aa'i theh. surpriashim with tba graat love I had to give. . " 'Do not ask me that, Gertrude. I cin¬ not lell you why 1 am shutting myaelf outof tha Elan you are all opening for me at the blessed North. I must only say good-bye, and go back to my hard, busy life. I muit go back to my work, for mjr own peace. We will part friends; and WB shall meet somewhere in tho great Hereafter.'
" 'Bu t you ara throwing yourself blindly uader the wheels ofa Juggernaut you oall duty. There is peaoe in our home for you, ray dear friend." j
. "I longed to tell him that there was! love there too for him; but 1 wanted him to ask for it He did not; be stood loot ing vacantly into my faoe, -and hfs lips worked convulsively-' I waited for'the words that did not coma r when be did speak, he only said. •
" Your are very kind; but I must go how.' -
¦ " I threw his band from me, and went and laid my faoe in the lounge-pillows,; Bob, bing like an angry child. He would not kiiderstand me, and I bad spoken so plMnly, too plainly for any common cir¬ cumstances. He dome and knelt .beside me and lifted my head to,his shoulder.'--t- Holding me thus, in a strong, passionate clasp, he whispered,
- ." ' Gertie, darling, you must notgrisre like this. -Qb! Li.t(rl»,GBrtie,'it you knew
— Ara those tears all mine !: JfatgWa, me, Gertrude, tor loving you, now, = tliat 1 amhonorableenough toieaveyou.".
"'JIfitst you go, Philip?   Need you go?
"He smiled-7-lhat swjiet, strange smile, I sball see in my dream) forever, and went on:
" You do not anawer me. Sea bow com¬ pletely I might have deceived you; how I might have stolen into your happy homa, aod left a serpent slime along your life path, ahd yon nsed never know. It has j been a terrible temptation. I shall make awreck^falltonight-|-all! home, hap¬ piness, the.Iova of wife,' and tbe kisses of innocent children. I am casting them all out of . my life. Pityj ma, Gertie. The saorifice is very graati; but I am going back to my old life without that sin cn my soul. Gertrude, 81-0 jou listening to me ?   Oh ! love! this is dreadful I"
"There ware drops {of sweat standing on his forehead, and the blue veins were knotted like whip cords. He knelt at my faet, and'hid his face j in my hands. His voice was full of shamo and sorrow.
'Gertie, a great gulf stretches between you and ma—a gulf! so deep and wide, that tbis moment yoii will thank God tbat 1 dared.nOt cross tO| yoii. I am of the hated race. My mother iras tbe favorite slave i)f a man I havb never called father.'
" Ob! Grace, if tbe earth bad opened at my feet, I could not bave started back from that mao as 1 did tben. He felt tbe recoil, and lifted bis head—tbat proud, grand bead, so terribly abased, and, strangely enough, smiled at my horror.
" It was a.dreadfill
A white man's face
I mistake, was it not?
TWO I1VE8 IN ONE.
I    Stephen wrote letters.full of hope, and
Mora than fifty years ago, my brolher >^"'*1°J/?^'"Tr'^- " ^P'"'*'"^ ^™ Stephen and I lived together in a villaga ^?^"'° ""'^'r r""' '""'.""'^ ^"O" about three miles south of London,-Wbere ' f^^^ "^""'""' """* ""y ""^'ety began lo ha wasin practice as a surgeon. Stephen i.l^^an. There was anolherreason.for this — at the same time—my late husband, the
friend aud partner of mysister's husband,
n6Va.ragalM!hOBpit»l)-pliysiouini^'<)lifei»t private gentlaman, wfc'o devo'ted fiis^ pw-'
I.Sobbed.
IK
' ^^' ^ '"'^' 80.' he answered hbMs|-
"TfiiVhis bshdooid.dhliii '(i^ M Ue laid me back pn the'piiliWi; and'ftar'i-
and soul, and a black man'a lot in life. B it you need not share it. You are thankful, are you not, for that?'
" Hia calmness w&s moresorrowlul than his anguish bad been. I stood up by bis side, and taking his hand again, I laid my head on his shoulder and said to him: ¦ *" It is God who haa put us apart, Phi¬ lip ; in His Holy sight wa are equals. I I shall never love imother man as I bave loved you. Perhaps in eternity we aball find some compensation for tbis hour.— God biesa you forever !'
" He bowed bia head upon mine, and h'ls tears fell fast upon my forehead. It was my baptism of sorrow I Once, only onca, in all the mAntha we have spent to gather, his lips just rest on my hair.
"' I am going now. Good bye, Ger¬ trude I' he whisfired. "I said good bye, and ha was gone. " 'I am coming lioma to morrow—papa and I, alone. Do not pity me, Grace; only strengthen me and encourage ma in the work I have chosen. My awakening is over. Pleasa God, I will work 'nb.w as ha is working for pur poor.soldiers. Not in the hospitals, for I could not do so much here as I can at home.'
" She came back to me tbe next day— a Uttle. paler, andj something sadder, but mora of a woman'. The oolonel waj;so feabla that he really needed Gertrude's quiet hoine care; but his manner towards her waS'Boft and tender, as I remembered it in the early daya of her motherless life. ¦Her new Ufa has begun-a Ufa full of gen¬ tle care' for othera; little sacrifices, whiob only suffering teaches how to make; ond _aha is growing ovary day mora sweetly womanly. She needed only to be awak¬ ened to this Bolemn life of ours. It might have been an awiikening to a gladder life, brimful of love'and joy, as few women's lives are. But to the colonel, in his fee¬ ble, declining years, and to me, looking toward the sunset of a clouded day, she is moBt precious as she is now. Our quiet old house wouldjbe less like home if her love bad brought glad voices and light fooUteps'into it!
¦Tbe calm, bealutiful woman  who puts upjellies, aiid dries our peaches and ap" plei for the hospitals, packs huge rolls of bandages, and picks lint; who sends lier choicest journals and books to the suffer¬ ing ones, aad hlis always a cheerful word and smile—a  Bong, perhaps—for us at home; she harmonizes well witb the dull gray, atmosphere wbich  surrounds   our daily life.   Somewhere iu the daya that ara to oome, thgra may. ba a.sfcond awake- ening from this life of earnest, devoted effort, and love' and happiness may  coma to her then.   We do not like to think of thiattime.   In bur selfishness, we like  il ¦well that tbe soft shadow of-B love shat¬ tered before itj full blooming,  has-fallen upon her gay, thoughtless life.   She hev. er'spbaks of Philip Clayton.   I believe in heart abe would be glad not to have known the breadth and depth  of the gulf ba- tWeen tham.   'He will cot hear her name ippKen, for lier large ¦charities are lost Bight of in thei streams whioh set towards the south.   They work together in tbe ame holy oauiie; but Gertrude aaid truly, that it is God who has pat their lives apart.   Perba|p», in the land of souls the great law of blood will be repealed.   Per hapi—' we know not tbe ways of the coun¬ try."' j
 j .  .	
Gen, Gram's O.N'LvJoM.-^The onljr joKa tbat~Lielitenanl-Qehl Grant was ever known to perpetHUe,*waB oiie day during kis campaign' ill fiissisaip^,'when tba re- ¦beliSoneral [Winter Wei ooming iip to attackbna ofthe" wipgspflii^ army, where the Commanaer in-Chief happened to be himself prWnt-/Benti^^^^ quietly knoo icing,the aBh'es from his oigar| jnd.lfxiking .arpimd.;,8t lha^officer« near ^^;.'" y°S ?8?:*i« JS??jWinte^^ ja/fcjmilflflviw joa^W«;.tbe' boyVkeep 'up Bgoodfirel"
relations but a sister, five or six years older than myself,and well married in|I.on- don. Sthephen was a solitary and studi¬ ous man, living somewhat apart from bis neighbors, and almost in a fatherly posi¬ tion towards me. Through the years we had lived together, no one thought of his marrying. Thus it was Nvhen tbe events I have to tell began. Tbe house next to ours was taken by Mr. Cameron, b feeble looking liian, rather past middle aga. with one daughter, Marion by name. How shall I describe har, the most beautiful creature I ever saw ? She was, perhaps, twenty yearsold; I never knew precisely. A tall, slight form, fair complexion, dark chestnut ayes and hair, and an expression morelika tbat of an angel tban a human baing, 'Though I was much struck with her appearance, Stephen did not seem to notice it; and wa might have remained unacquainted with tham forever, but that he was required to help Mr. Cameron over an awkward stile near our houaa- — Acquaintance onoe made, they soon grew familiar; for tbey bad two feelings in common, a love of tobacco and Sweden borgianiam. Many a summer evening did they pass, smoking tbe one and talk¬ ing tha other, Marion sometimes joining in, for Bhe generally walked with them, while my chest, which was weak at that time, kept ma at home. One day tbey quitted Stephen at the gate, and as ba en¬ tered the door, I said to bim;
" How lovely Marion is ?    I am never tired of looking at ber."
" Look at her while you may," said ho, she has not three yeaas to live."
It was only too trua.    Sbe had some dreadful coniplaint—aneurism, I think it was—which must carry her off in the flow¬ er of her days.   Stephen told me that he consulted the most eminent doctors with¬ out gotting any hope; and tha amotion, rara enough to him, tbat he displayed, told ma tbat be loved Marion.   I said no word, lo  him about  it.    I knew bet¬ ter ;    but   I   saw witb   what dreadful doubt, he was perplexed.    Excitement might shorten Marion's life—such an ex cltement as a declaration  of  love from him might ba of material injury;   and even if it did not prove so, how could he condemn himself to the prolonged torture of seeing tba life of a beloved wile ebb away, day by day?   Besides, be did not think she cared for him.   I,  wbo bad watched her ceaselessly, knew that she loved him   with her wholo heart.   He struggled with bimself fiercely ;   but ha won the fight.     He left home for a few weeka, and returned, looking older and paler; but ha bad learned to mention her name witbout bis voice quivering, and to touch   ber   hand   without   holding   bia breath hard.    She was pining away under the influence of his changed manner.and I dared not help my two darlings to bo happy,     .in unexpected aid soon came. Mr. Cameron, who was in lad health when we first saw him,  died suddenly.    Poor Marion's grief was terrible to see.   Her father was dead, Stephen, as she thought astrenged;   and tbere was no ona elso'in the world who oared whether she lived or dted, except mysolf.   I brought her home with ma, and was with her hourly unti Mr.  Cameron's funeral.     IIow we  got throogh that time I hardly Inow.   Then came tbo necessary inquiry into bis af¬ faira.   Ha bad died, not altogether poor, but in reduced   circumstances,   leaving Marion an annuity tbat would scarcely give ber tba luxuries her stata of health required.    And where was she to live, and what to do? Stephen was tha s-jle execu¬ tor, tbe sole adviser to whom she oould look.   He had two days   and nights to consider, and then offered her his hand and homa.   At first sbe could not believe that his offer aroaa from anything but pity and compassion;   but when be bad told her tbe story of tha last few months, and called ma to bear witness to it, a great light seemed to come into her eyes, and a wonderful glow of love, such aa I had never seen, over her face.   I left them to themselves tbat   evening,   till  Stephen tipped at the_ door of my room and told me all—nothing, in fact, but what I knew long befora    In their case, there was lit¬ tle cause for delay.   Trousseaux were riot the important matters in  my day that tbey ara in my grand children's, and Ma¬ rion was married to Stephen, in ber black, within a month after har father'^ funeral, Tbe next month waa a happy time for all of us. Marion's health improved great¬ ly. The worried, frighiened look sha used to wear left ber faca as sbe   recovered from the depression caused  by her con slant anxiety nbout ber father, and tbe loss of rest she suffered in attending upon him at night-   It seemed as if sbe was entirely recovering; and Stephen, if he did not losa his fears, at least was not oon¬ itantly occupied witb tbem.   How hap¬ pily we used to look fotward to the futura, for Stephen was beginning to save money; and many were our day-dtenma   about professional eminence for him, and fash¬ ionable life in London, partly for Marion, but mostly for me.   I have tried fashion able life  in London since, but I never found it so happy as our days in that dear old Surrey village.'
Well, our happy time did not last long. Marlon caught a cough and cold aa tbe Winter came- on, and was soon so ill as to ba taken to London for advice. Stephen came back alone, with a we.ary, deadly looking faoe. M irion had broken a small blood vessel.on the journey, notanytbing aerious in itself, but ominous euough .-r They were to go at onca to a warmer cli¬ mate—not a day to be lost. Sorrowfully I packed up all the necessary things, and, went with Stephen to London the next day, to say good hya to Marion, who had been forbidden to return home. The same afternoon tbey were ou board a trading vessel, bound for Leghorn. Luckily, Ma¬ rion was a good sailor and well used to ships, for ahe had made more tban ona voyage to Madeira witb ber father. Muoh as I wished to go with them, and much as they wished it, too, it was out of the ques¬ tion. Stephen bad saved but little money,' and could hardly aaa ho',v he and Marion were to live, unleaa he could make prao' tiee somewhere among th a English cbrpad
was at that time beginning to pay bis ad¬ dresses to ma J and the tender troubles of my own case, made me careless of others. Summer came round again; and one day as I was balf wishing for my country hPme again, a letter arrived frpm Stephen. Ma¬ rion's .complaint was at a crisis, and a great ohange would take plaoe, oneway or. tba otber, in a few days. I was to go homa, put the place in order, and bo ready to receive them. I did not know till afterwarda tbat Marion had begged to be allowed lo rtie at bome, if the change were for the worse; if it had been fpr the better, there would have been no reason for her staying abroad.
Well, I went home, arranged every¬ thing and waited for tbem. The three weeks passed (tba usual.interval) and no letter; a month, and I supposed they were traveling slowly to avoid fatigue— On the day five-Weeks after I bad received the last latter, I was sitting alone, rather late in the evening, when a quick step sounded in the road outside, and Stephen came to tfae gate, opened it, entered the house and sat down in silence. Hewas dressed as uaual, and looked tired and travel-stained; but there was no sorrow in his, and I felt sure that Marion must be faca safe. I asked him where she war. He said she was not with him.
" Have you left her in Italy?" I asked.
"She is d«ad," he answered, without a shadow   of emoticn
"How? Where?" I was beginning to question bim, but he stopped me.
" Give me something to oat and drink," he said, "I bave walked from London, and want to sleep."
I brought him what be wanted. He badamegood-riigbt;and as Isaw ha wish¬ ed it, I left him and went to bed, full of grief, bnt even more of wonder that he, who truly loved bis wifa if aver man did, could speak ofher, not a month after her death, without his voice faltering, or his face changing in the leaat. " To-morrow ¦will solve the question," I said to myself, as, weary with cryins, I feltsleap coming over me. But to-morrow did not solve the question. He told me its before, with¬ ont emotion, what he wished me to know, and from that moment wa spoke no more on the aubject. In every respect but this ho was my own Stephen of old—as kind and as thoughtful as ever, only altered by a rather absent and abstracted manner. I thought at first that he was stunned by hia loss, and would realiza it more pain¬ fully afterward; but months passed on without a change. He used Marion's chair or ihings of her work, or sat opposite lo her drawings without seeming to notice them; in-lecd, it waa as ifshe had dropped out pf bis life entirely, and left him as he was before he knew her. Tha only diffei" ence was, that ha, naturally a man of se¬ dentary habits, took a great deal of exer¬ cise, and I knew that he k?pt laudanum in his bedroom.
received from England said tbat on tbo very morning after my marriage ha had been found dead cold in his bed. He died without pain, the dootor said, with hia right hand olaaping bis left arm abovo tho wrist, and holding firmly even in death, a circle of Marion's hair.
OEITINO AN EDTTCATION-
CAERIAaES, BUGGIES,    & o.
At this time my lover was pressing me to marry him, and with much difficulty I consented to tell Stephen about it, though I hadnointentionofleavinghim. Tomy surprise, he seamed pleased. I told bim that I would never leave him alone, not for all the husbands in the world, but he would not bear me.
" I tbinte it is your duty to marry bim, Margaret," he said ; "you lova bim and have taught him to love you, and you have no right to sacrifice him to me."
" My first duty is to you Stephen. I will not leave you alone."
" I see tbat I must explain to you," be said, after a pause. When you leave ma, I shall not be alone.
" Wbo will ba with you," I asked, won¬ dering. " Marion."
I started as if t had been shot, for I thought he must surely be mad ; but be continue'', quite calmly, and, as usual without emotion :
"Sho died at Mid-day.    Till night I did notknow what I did.   I felt stunned and broken and dying myself; but at last, worn out as I was with watching and sit ' ting up, I fell asleep ; and by God'a mercy shei cama to me in my dreams aad toid me to be comforted. ^The next niglit she came'again, and from that time-to  this has never failed me.   Then I ^felt it waa my duty to live; that if my life was value, less to myaelf, it was not so to you.   So - came home.   I dare say it is only a freak of my imagination.   Perhaps t even  pro duce an illusion by an effort ot my will. but however that is, it has saved me from going mad cr killing myself.   IIow does shec^me?   Always os she was   in tbat first Summer tbat wa spent bara, or in our early tune in Italy; always  cheerful and beautiful, always alone, always dressed as she used to dress, talking as ehe usfid to talk-;-not an angel but herself.   Some¬ times we go through a whole day of pleas, ura ; sometimes she only comes and goes ; but no night faas ever yet been  witbout her; and indeed I think that' her visits are longer and dearer as I draw nearer to [ber side again. ' I- sometimes ask myself which of my two lives is the real   one.    I ask mysalf now, and cannot an iwer.    I should think that the other was, if it;were not that wbile lam in this, I recollect the olher, and wbile I am in tbe other I know nothing beyond.   And this is why my sorrow is not like that of othera in my position.   I know that no night will pass without my seeing her; for my health i^ good enough, and I never fail to sleep.— Sleeplessness ia the only earthly evil. I dread, now you are provide for.   Dp not .think me hard to jou in not baving  told you this before,    ft is too.sacred a  thing to be spoken of without necessity.   Now write to yonr husband that is to be, and tell bim to come here." .  I did BO, and the preparations for my marriage began.   Stephen was very kiod, but his thoughts wandered fartber nnd fartber day by day.   I spoke to a doctor, a friend of bis, about him, but it seemed that nothing ailed him.   I longed, almost to pain, to ask him mora about'Marion; but he never gave me an opportunity.   If I api>roached tbe sabject, he turned tha talk in another direotion, and my old hab¬ its of submission to him prevented'me
and his taking me also was  not   to be j from going on.   Then oame my wedding.
thought of. i was to live for the present with my married sister. It tvas very sore to part with Stephen, witb whom I had lived almostall my life,'it WIS sorer sliU to part with Marion, who had been more than a sister.tp me ever since I saw-her Stephen and I were nearly overcome witb emotion; but she was calm and silent, with an intent, wistful look about her lovely face that has haunted ma all my life since. I can sea it now wben I shut my eyes, though itis fifty yeara ago. Need Isay tbat I neversaw her again ? 1 went to liiy sister's Bouse, and began
William was born among tbe woods of New Hampsliire. Hia parents were induE- trlous people, who found it bard to sup¬ port a large family on a small farm. The boys were put early to work ; and soma bad, early in life, to leave home and seek their fortunes elsewhere.
There was no sohool-bousa near; so Will had no schoDling, or next to none; and as for books, he naver saw ono ex¬ cept the Bible and hymn book. But he had a Sabbath school, and the little boy waa constantly tbere. It had no intereat¬ ing library, however, as yours has. We, I dare say, should hava thought it rather a poor Sabbath school. But God's Spirit was there, and tbat always makes a good Sabbath aohool. Will's teacher was an old man wbo loved God, and taught bis little scholars of God's love to them in Bending hia dear Son Jesus Christ to bt their Frieuds and Saviour.
Ona day he said to the litllo boys, " We mast try to ba usefal." It is a short and simple sentence only six words; butthere was somatbing in the way tho good man said it, thatimpressed little Will's mind. " We must try to be useful," Will repeat¬ ed over and over to bimself, and it proved a little seed tfarought. Ho wished he could ba useful. He meant to be, but ha Bupposed ha .must grow up first.
Will early learned to pray. When ba drove tho oowa to tho pasture, by a stouo wall or in a clump of trees be used to kneel down and pray. He loveJ to do so. Chopping wood in the forrest, he often knell dow» by the pine logs for prayer ; and good seamsd to fill tbe great woods with a beautiful light. It made the little boy very happy. His heart was full of comfort and joy. Were the oiher boys like him?- No, thay swore, and they usad to try to mike him swear. - They laughed at him, and said so'm'uuh. that ona day, when they ware in the field hoeing potatoes, Will laft a profane word drop from his lips. In a moment evory thing looked different- The ground soemed ready to open and svrallow bim up; tha heavens overhead looked BOrry and oft'ended. Will felt that hehad grieved G odt viasan awful mo¬ ment to him. His companions were glad; tbey thought tbey had triumphed. But their triumph was short; for, if it was his ^M( oatB, it was also his /ast.
Uis father, finding it bard to support the I'amily, moved away. He want from oae placa to another trying to better his co.-idttion,'until ba got uearly down to the Canada I'ne. Ua always took Wil¬ liam with him, ibr he was his best boy, and worked diligenlly. But ah, how he wanted to go to school. Sometimes the wish took such hold of his mind, that even while chopping he forgot bis axe and if any body spake to bim, he would not answer. They thought he was atu- .pid. Poor Will! ;It was because he wns huniiry. Children who aro loaded witb booka and papers, do not know any thing about this hunger of the mind.
At last ha had a chance to go to school a wbole winter. I cannot tell you bow thankful ha was. He was then grown up, as tall as a man, but he was put in the SOI illest class, and all tha little boys were a'jove bim." Nevermind; that was noth¬ ing to bo ashamed of. .Before Spring be was.the first scholar in tbe scbool, and had learned pretty much all the master ODuld te«oh him, for study was a real pe- light to him. ..     .
¦ The next year he started cff in aearoh of an academy. He thought if be only could go to an academy a year, be should learn about'all there was to know in the world. But his father thought ha oould not spire him; an! n)t bsliaving iu] an education, be soon sent for his son to come home. Will waa greaily disappoint¬ ed ; yat it seemed to bo God's will, and BO ha worked and waited and prayed on I tba little farm still.
An opening cama by and by. His father had to sBnd a colt thraa hundred and si.'c- ty miles to pay an old debt with. Tber was nobody to take it but William. Hi father sent him, and said be might havo his own timo hereafter. So tho young man started on bis^ long horseback jour¬ ney, with a pair of saddle bags, a couple of books, and his clothes in ono side, a loaf of bread in the other, and three dol¬ lars in bis pocket.
Happy Will! Tha loaf was breakfast, dinner and supper, until it got mouldy when a kind woman at a farm house took] bis mouldy bread and gave him in ex¬ change a sweet, new loaf. Uis money went for night's lodging and oits Ior the horse. In teu days or mire lie resched bis journey's end, and bad one dollar left. Thehorse was delivered safelv u^i, tbe debt cancelled, snd then Will iur;i»d his thoughts stronger than evjr towards get¬ ting an education. He was now over twenty-one. Hearing of a famous academy in fee- ter, wherethere was a fund to assist poor students, with his pack on his back, be atarted on loot seventy miles to Exeter. On reaching there, he found that tho charity list was full, and of course there was no room for bim.
"Weil," said Will, "lam going to stay." ¦ For a year be supported bimsal J witb the axe, tho boe, or the spado.— Lodging with another poor student, tbey hired a woman to oook their frugal meals; and their washing, tbnt they did them¬ selves at a neighboring brook.
My story would be too long, if I should stop to tell you more. I will only tay now, that at the end of some years William oame out of Andover Seminary a minister ofthe gospel; and his highest wishes in regard to usefulness has been more than answered. Ha is a faithful pastor and preacher, settled over a large field, where his labors are fruitful and richly blessed of God.
You see; my children, how God opens the way to a noble purpose. Tbe boy who has bean fonnd faithful over a few things, God wil; ¦surely make him a ruler over many.
SA.'UOEL B. COX, WM. C. McKEOWH,  JACOB MlLEr.
BAHnrBh B. OOX Sc CO. CABBIAOB MANOTACTOKBE8 AHD PRAC
¦nCAL MRCHAHIC8, Cmtr of Duke and Vine St. Lanauttr, Pa., EEP oonstantly on hand ud nunn
tulm 'to via  OASEIAOIS     ^- - _ rtSI DBOBIPnON, mada ot tJU b«it lUterUla and by •xp«rl«afl«4l workman
SAjlBgh—ntPtas9iin Ut* CvTlix*aukUf Inud* neu ror lom* ycui. ih*y t—i eonfldaDt that th* wotX ia»d« br th»m vlll b* tooBd fall j AquTlf not rayioclot to uy otitar mad* la th* StaU, *lth«r M to tijlt, voik. nunuip or qUIitj of uutcri^s, and aUo la ruiena* fal»i«n of prlM. Tbiy therafor* laTlta thow in-mai ot Oarrinsw, to giro taam a aall b«foi« ptuali«il]i| •lMWli»r«.
Tho roUowLoK r JUnOTTUS hara bMS awaidad to tUa ^vtabUahmsat ^-'A. Pmaiam br th* I«B*att«r Goaatt *Talxofls68 for BKST. STTLKT; also, a PrasiIiUB and BUTSTUidalfcrtha BSST SHUrTINa-TOF BUaST.- A SUver Hvdal by the Slatorleal, ArrJniltiinU aad Ukchanleal Inatltata, In Jana, 1869; and alto br th« fnlton InatUnta.iaNoTttmbsr, 1S69, fox B^TBSm-
nra-Top Bnaar and tbottihg buogt.
^Cl»P«tonsw»ntla««rrl»g*i««jiMl»«t rom Vim DIFf KKBKT STTLSS, aU In oaa room-
AUwork mannJMtnrad at thiiaiUbUihmaat li war notad.   BftpalrlflS of all klnda dona on abort notla*. an   T 14-tf-61 8AM0BL B. COX 4 C(),
CABEIAQE  MANtTFACTOBY.
ALTICK &TlcGINHI3. (Formarly  Deo her,  AltUlt  &  Co'a.)
Extensive Carriage Manufactoiy.
W, ORANGE ST., NEXT TO THE COR. OF PRISCE.
KEEP constantly on hand, and mmu- /actnrato order CABBUQSS of eT»ry desorip- tioo, mada of the best matwrlal. by ex- - pariancBd and competent workmeB.— U&vioxbcen extenalTei> ergagcdlD the abOTe bnainoBB for many ye»rs, thf J Are
i';HILADBtmA_ ADYER'nSHMErnB
lADIBS' EANCY FURS
AT
JOHN FABEIBA'B
OZD  BSTiBLISMBJt
FUR MAN UK AOO? ORY, Wt. TlS^rch Street, (obave TH,) PliU'a.
I liaTB BOW Itt Btore of my owa latportatleo  aud
UsaafMtore, one of lh« Lirgoit •id moit BB»all-
fal aelectloDsof
FAKC.   JOBS.
Por IwUi' end Chlldr»n'» W««r, la Uie diy.   Aleo •
llae KEBOttmsct of Qents' Far Qlorse end (^oiUn.
I sra eoftbled to di^iBa of iry'goode at Tery retemft
bra pricte, and 1 Woald therefore wUelt a call
from MJ friends of Lancaeter & Yiclnlty.
«-f!ememfeT  U-.t ITant,  Ximber and 5ir«(.-Btt
JOBS yABKIBi,
718 Aicb Street, above Ttb, (icnth side,)
FHILADX&riTia.
Xt' I bave ne pirtaer, nor connt-ctinn Mth any ^tfX.
In Pblledelpble. [KpiJJm«]
H. O. ATWOOD,
WHOLEBALS  MANOFACTOBSK 01
MATTRESSES & BEDDING,
And dealer In aU klnda of
FURNITURB,
1^0.   2 3 7   and   2 3 9   South   Second  Street, Mpt 6 PniD4DELPHIA. 8m 42
eoaHivDt thfttcbe work' tnrnadouthy them irill be fonnd eqnal if DOt snperior to «ny otber maka In tba connty, *Uher as regards STYLE, WOKK4H8HIP, Quahtyof JUterlaU or Price. Their fltock of n«i*^ftnd second hand carriage's Is the most extaDslva In tit* Co. CJ" I'ereona In wnnt or snythlng in tbeir Hue wiU please call and examine tbeir work and arcsrtala their pricae before purchasing olaewhere. All work mann- f*ctnrediit this establishmdot warranted. Particnlar attantlOD paid to all kinds of repairing.      ang 31 ly 9
ISEIV    CARPET  YTAREUOUSEZ
LBEDOM & SHAW. No. 910 ARCU STREET. PI|ILAD£r.PmA.
Ara conatantly opanisg a new and «boiaa coUactloa af
CARPETINQS,
Ct All tbe Varloui QaatltreF.
l::;^ HonseUaepers wlU find It to thair idTanUgg t*
otti aad eximlna bcfo:* pa;<;haaIog_C:(
Bflp 30 3m 45
COAL    AND   LUMBER.
COAL, SALT, &c. ''pHE   subscriber   having   taken   the
I   COAL YARO   nnd   WARKHOUSE on ths
800th aide of the Coneatrga, ne*r Craefl's Landing, l*toly occjplfd by Geor^a Culdar, will keep on band a in.l sup(>iy of
COAL, WOOD AKD SALT.
Alflo, Bsagh'a Uaw B^n- KUPKUIOB Pa03PII\TB and OKOUaD fL.ldr£R, to.ttnBrwith PoaU. talis. Pales aad Pencinn CDatorlaIrt genefally, all of which WlU \o Bold at the Tery lowest market ratta. apl 22 tfiiJ SAMDEL HESS.
BEMOVAL.
e"AVING disposed  of my property _on tbe'Oonastoga Navigation  Lo Eatcnel Gesa, ii.si|.,/ I bsvfTcmoved my business t-* my yard Comer of Penn'a Railroadjind Water-st ,
Where I will continue Bnslness ts heretofore, and wonld respectfully call Ihe attaotlan of my old ^custo- msrs and the public to my stock of
COAL,
SALT ,
PLASTEB, &C.J
Which   will eell at the lowest market prices.
ai£0. OALDSB,Ja.. apl 15-tf-2l Offljd,;No. 2, Eaat Orange Streat.
62S. UOOP SKIRTS. 0^9
HOPKIHS'" OWN aCAKE"
OK UOOP SKIRTSj ARE GOTTEN VP
expressly to meet the wants of
FIRST  CLVSS  TRADE.
THEY.embrace a eompleta assortment of ail the naw and debirAble Btjles, alua wd ieagth. for Ladles, UEsse?, and Chlldreo. and axe supe¬ rior m-aH othrra made Ib point of symmfttry, finish and dnrability; being nrnde of tha toest tampund Bngliih Steal aprlngt, with Ltnaa flnishad eoTeriag, and haTlng all ihe metallo fastaninga ImmoTably ae¬ cnred, by Improred wachlneTT. Thay rftaln tbolr shape and elastlelly to the lait, and aro warranted to give entire sstiafactlon.
ALSO, constantly la receipt of full Hoes of good Kastern made BKIRTB. at Tery low pricea. Salrt* made te order, altered aad repalied.
Wholesale and Uetall, ac Manufactory and FaUe Room, No C^, AUCH Streat, absre Sixth, l^UILA- OliLPBlA.
JJ* Terms Cash—One Price Oalj 1
ang 12-*mo-M
J. STEWART DEPUV. 333 South Second Stroot,
raiLADEtVUU.
4 y^EEPS oonstantly on hand »   ft
SALT.      SALT.      SALT
LIVERPOOL AND DOJfESTIO SALT,
Wboleeate aud R4U1I at Lower Frlcei, than oan be Parcfaaefld bliewbere.
Fur sal. by 0. CALDSB, J».
OFFIOE   NO. 2£ASI   ORAMGE   STBKBT,
tARCASTER, PA.
OONSUMEBS     OF OOAL,
V JSL.-JS.-Bi   KT o m O B
EI.I.TffATrRK'8
COAL    YAED,
sta al Ute Old Flaa,
Oot. of Prince and Lemon Btests, one Square
Hortli of the Eeilroad.
3¦'IIE most oonvenimt yard in the City for GoniLtiT Trade, being ont of ilgbt ol tbe eala 1 Troatlns cn tir? atraetj.
COAL oy ALL KlKSi FOS FA WILY,
rovsoRY,
STEAM.
LlilE BURXER,
AXD BLACKSMITB'S VbE or THI BEST QDALITIES ALWAT6 OS HAHD. Xt* Clean Cod ar.d fitU weiDhi guaranteed to ali. epr n-lT-21 LEVT KLIHAKBE.
UAbf£T3,
large aeeirtniect of OIL CLOTHS,
MATTIBOS,
WWDOWSHADtS,
PI4K0, .MEIODEOS, and TABLE COVSRS,
Ae.. ke.
To wblcb he larltee the attentl.a cf thiwe
wbo wleb tn pnrcbats anytblog In bli
line. eept. S 3m 41
M H
» ft
WOODRIfFF &, AI.I,i:.V,
(STOCESSOKS TO)
YAlKNAr..rj   &  (JO DEN.
KO.   tfi   NORTH  TlirRD   STREXT,   PUIL'A
Wboleeale Dealers In Coal Oils, Alcjbol, Banaioe, Nipbthi, TarpaatlQe, ki.
HaTe constantly on band DOWSE'B SPIHDLB or LtaET H.^CHHIST OIL
BK4VY OIL.
Three are pnre nnmixed Faraffine Labrlcitor, free fraa
all traca of acid, aed are warranted not to '¦ gum n*-.**
C^ Tbe Trade supplied oa lieaiooable Terms t>£i
sep 6 2m «     ¦
UATS,    CAPS,    &o.
HATS      lEATS ! !      HATS !! !
THlil   undersincd,  Proprietor of the old
WESTKISO STREETDAT STORE,
Na. \iyi, Weat Kins etreet, LancAeter, Fa.
Has alwaya on band or mannfaetured to order an
exoellent Tarl<:ty of Hats adapted to Bprlng, Snmmer
and Fall wear.   In hla aeecrLmont will te foaad
SILK, CASSIMEHB & SOFT HATS,
Of asery Style and QuaUty for Gentlemen's and  Paya'   Wear. 1 taVe tha opportunity to retnrn thanlts to my old co^tomeri in iio h city and eonnty. for long contlnned patrouage, acd trout that by paying prompt attention to baKiBefS &•» heret^jfor", and selling iroode at reasona¬ ble price*, to giTe satlefactlon.   Pleaso eall asd exam¬ ine my HatF. PREDEBICK BMITH. tnayl-I-m-W ^
MHS. HICHOLL,
TRIMMINGS h HOSIERY,
1810   MARKBT   STREBT,
PHILADELPHIA.
(A feis mitiutee tcatk/rom Penn'a. R. R, Statian,
TrimmiDse,  £mbroIderlee, lloelery,  SloTei,
Coraeta,   Perfamery,  Combe, Brasliel,
Sbirle,   Coltare, Boaome. Neck.
Ilea. Glnghama. Mnslina,
FJannelB, ite., Ite.
Tbe gooda being parcbased for oabh will be sold at tbe
LOW££T CASH PBICIiS. dee 10.
STJMMEB  HATS! 'I'^HE uadoraigned bave j ost received
|_ beatitWul aaggrtftect of all .tj les of
sixxjDb: c.a.E»35».33H.ja.
FEL T AND STRA W UA TS, vbicb we arc prepared to sell at the
HOST REASONABLE TBEMS.
Oar frienda in the oity and oonnly are invited to call and examine onr aEsortment.
SHULTZ <E BSOTHEB,
North Qaeen St., Lanoaster. cay 20-tr n2e
CHEGABAY rBTSTITUTE.
BOARDINO AND  DAY SCHOOL FOB
So. 1527 and   1529 Spruce Street,
PHILADELPHIA.
Will re open on Wednesday, September 20lli . Fisncb Is tbe laognage of tbe family, and Is con¬ stantly spoken In the Instltntlon. For Clrcalara and psrtlealara apply to UADAMK D'HSHVILLY,
aag2-3m"J7 . Principal.
BTATIOITAL    MOXTBHin-G   HATS.
a BcanrifUL A3aoBTuB.1T or , 3>a'a,tioxi.a.l SMCo-ULX-zxizxe
SOW THB STTLB IH LABOB ClTIXa—
Can be bad at the Clieap and Popular II.VT AND CAPBTORB OF
SHULTZ Sl brother. North Qaeen St., Lancaster.
may 20-lf nSd
day. Stephen gave me away, arid he eat by my side at tfae breakfast. :Heaaerned to hang over me more tenderly than ever, as he put me irito tho carriage arid took le-aveof me.
The last thing I did as I leaned out of the carriage window was to tell hini to bs sure to be miy first visiter in riiynewho'me,
¦"No, Margaret," he said, With a sad smile ; "say good-bye to me now, my work is done."
Scarcely understanding what he said, I bade him good-bye; and it was not,until my husband aaked me what it meant, that
the fashionato life I used to wish for.-  I remembered his strange look and accent It was not all .that Ipicturedlt, thbiigh  i then felt half-frightened about hWl 35iW.Pf«'y»^of.«°°"8!Sl.:'o occupy me in I but the novelty of my. foat viaitVihrpad teday-time: bnt_fitifgKt',npng64^iSdiy'|mad^.meforget fbr my darling.      -  ..c.-c. l-^isp^tissdoi tblf Ti.efi«U^{^I
• An old gentleman named Gould, havin. married a young lady of nineteen, thus ad¬ dressed his friend, Dr. S., at the weddinc festival—.
" So JOB eoo, my dear sir, thongb eishty jean
old, A gid oC ninetoon falls in lovo with ;
To which the doctor replied—
" A girl ef niao^coQ may lovo , it is true.
But bolieve^ mo, doir sir, it is withont f;
The distinguished philosophers took shelter under one tree during a heavy ahower. After some time one of them -complaining that he felt rain. "Never mind repliedjthe other," "there are plen- ty of trees; when this is net through we will go to another."
Why i8,%gun lite, a :u6wspaper ! Be¬ cause it makes reports.
INDIA CHOLAGOGUE.
AN   INFALLIBLE   BEMEDT   FOR
li-KVER AND AGUK..
.Q^Thls preparation baelofi been ased la this Tlcli.ity fur many years, hae acqalrel a very high repn¬ tation;   In every casa where It   baa be*n nsed, It bis never failed to pnidaee a SPEEDY A.\- D   P ER.HA S E X T   CVRE
Jnst Received Ani For Bale-By
JOUR y. 1.0 RQ it sons.,
6, Worth Qjtren Striet, Lancister, Penaeylfaala [«pC3tf«]
For  Comfort,   Convenience, Economy and   Durabllltr,  nne
XjoxxdoXL  Tfi tcl3.oxi.er   OV
BUBOPEAN    BANQB!
TUE   BEST    r.ANGE     EVER    ISVKNTBB.
solca. Tay
CHASE, SHAEPE & THOMP SOH
i\"o. 200 JV: Second St,   FAiladelphia.
Iron FaandfrB and M-innfactorerc of EtOTga, Heaters
TiDDtd ftnd li-iitQiQlIed WftrcH, £e., Ac.
ftug 18-€m H
"FURNITURE,
BEST QUALirV.
¦.T.  McGUIN,
1231 CHBSTinTT STHEBT,
.pniu^UELniiA,
lavitea persons in want of
ppiHST-CLASa FUEHITtr.HB
At moderate prices to examine hit
aiooK
apl
Previoui lo furohasiag ehcwkere. i lyM
1865. ^-"•' ^-"^.•'•' 1865.:
HAGEB & BSOTHEHS,
HUTS Dcw Opened a oomplate Stock of
For Fnll Siilen. Wbich wUI ba aild at the loveet prices* COTTON AUD LIlSEK QOODS
For Hftuie Furoishlny. "
LADIES' DRESS GOODS,*
ailk?,  Froaci   )lHrla-w%  Poplalata, Binpre*s  Clolbfl
DuUlues Cblutzxi, Flae toHDperQae Blaek
Bomtxi'.Dea. H4 Ulxek Wool DBlalBcp,
UuurDiDg ropUlQB.'', Keps k
Alp««««.
LADIEt' CL01K3, oy HKWEVr.STTLM.
Plain Black, Ttlcct and Plain Baaror, CMncMlU Aod
FroBled BfiTer.
CLOAKING CLOTHS.
BHAWLS—Plain Black end Orey and  Bigh Colon d Woolen Shawln, Brorha ana Thibet, fcfiaara and Lung Sbatrla. UiS'i WKAE 1 MEa'a WEAEI 1
Black and Coloted French 0 olbe, Black Doe Pkln Oaa. Hmete, Fancy Frrnoh .nd acfrlc.nCaaslmere, TilMt, Moiow Btarer. Chlccbilla 0.erooattoj«,.8ittlnottB, VelretCord, JeanF,Cattlmeref' r Boya. BEADY-MADK   CLOrHt.NG  FOE MBS AND BOVP.
The lergeBt ?tock ceer olTired In tble elly, ef onr own maaufaoturB, and cearjut^d to glv., eitia'action.
eaplS-tf-tJ HAOgRiBHOTHEKS.
WAHTED!
CANVASSING AGENTS, in cvcrv townehlp In Lancaster Coni.ly, to eell tha n-cat popalarwork eeer pnbllehBd. Nothing like It erer aalt. 01dCanTi.tereanddlecbars«d eold ere. now U yonr tloie. Oreat Indncemente. Send with itampi for terma 4a , to BAUTLESON, Jt Co
eepl6-3n-<l 611 Oheetnnt El. Fbll..
BEDS!   FUAXUEBS!
Mattrsssea, Blanketa, Bad Qailts, &o,
Z. Taoker's Ml.bMted.Spring Bed. Arery avMale la the Bedilug to. at the lovmt narket Jktaa. IMOi n^ttmpt
aaplUB41 ^biliSripUa.
TuinpUse Election. fT^HE anoTial election for Officera of the
.J lauicasteiiuAXpluaUTiinilka.lUad Comnaiy,. wUl b. held 01 Moodar.HoTember next, the Oi. at, tbe-tsUlo.klnM of-Ur. Jes«baa8ilreoheT, U lUa eity,^•«w««aUi«honre»f«o and Xoirtf ¦ HSBKT E t a(.l,t<4> rreitdeat.
JOHN H. ZELLEB,
aiJEViiyOK AND CONVBYASCSB. Also givea particular attention to Clerking,
SALES OF
JIEAL   AXD PERSONAL PROPERTr,
at any dL^taoce withla the eeanty.    Offlce 1* dprlD
Tllle, M)nnt Jjy twp., Lentaeler coaaty.
Aldreii, liPSi.VJ QAUDitar.O.
oot4.ll«-45
OANDLK     WICK, TIB YARN AND COTTON LAFS.
FOR   SALE A T
CO.VSSXOOA ETBAM ITILL, NO. I L-KSCiiTlSX, tA
F. SBHODER, k COMPAWIT,
TDLANK B'JOKS!
BLANK BOOKS,
BLANK BOOKS
a   large elock ofrnll and HaU Bound    BUck Book Paper, 4c Joat reoelied at
J. M.WMIHABIJJR'a
Oheap Boet Ito
21-1
iVAsaiKOToar w. uopkist
ATTOBHET-AT-LAW, SO. 2S NORTU DUKE STREET,'
HfeASTM, TA.
aug 30
W»
Eire and Lire Iniiuraiice Agency,
40J flast King Street, Lancaster, Pa.
Springfield Fire & Marine Insuranoa
Company, Springfield, Mass.
OBBAjrilHI) 18J9.
Cash CapitaliZOO,000. AsselsSa7li,lSi\ '17HE Annnal Beport of this Company
J., la on file in Andltoi'a Pepartment ftt llarclabnrg, and tbeCoaipany ia offlelallr anthorlled 10 Ukerlfke againat Loia aod DamagB by PIre tbronghoat the Ke7 loaeSUte. All elelnis for Lose »lll ba promptlyand bberaUy adjoated, and pild In FblIad*lphU ox Mew liarkfondB.
XKataa ot fnacraoce ea lov ai thoee of any ether flr BBS and reliable Company. lept lO-gm.lS
ELECTIOlf HOTIOB.
WILLOW STEEET TOKHFIKE COMPANY. A N Election of Managers of th« aboTO
/X:   Sotd, VlU be held at the pablle hooae of Uii.
Cooper, In tbe City of Lancaeter, ea MOIDAT tke Itk ....,,... .u., day.or NOTEKBIB Next, betveen tka boot or laal 3.'oloek^ ^. I d o'eloek Id tbe aflernoon, where all pereoM Uiveatad LEUAfl;---   I are reqneated to attend. LStl KTTBBX"
i.si,:„^