Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              VQIjXLIV.
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|4AMl|pERf.-PA.;
APRIL 20;
NO. 23,
EXAMIJkEB & HEBAXD.
PDBHSHED EVEET WEDNE5DAT. At ao. 4 Norti ttuoon Stre«t, Lancaater, P«
TEniLS-*2.O0 A TEAB IS AI»VA»CE.
JOHN A. HIE3TAND * E- M. KLINE, Editors nnd Proprietors.
POOB KAH'B SPKDAY-
The merry birds are fiinsinK.
.\nd from the fragniul sod The Spirits of a tliousand llowers
Go sweetly np to Qod; Willie In His holy telniiic
We meet lo praise aud pray ¦With eliecrful voice,nnd ttratefui he.irt.
This Summer Sabbath IJay.
We thank Ibee, Lord, for oue da.v
To look lieaven lu tbe faco! The Poor have only Sunilay:
Tile sweeter Is IbeKraee. 'Tis then lliey make Itie music
That sings their week away. O, there's a swecluessinlhllte
fn tbo I'oor Man's Sabbath Uay!
'TIS :ei a burst of snnshlnc,
-•v tender fall uf rain, Tliat set tlio barest life abloom;
.Make old beans young again. The dry and dusty roixdsldo
Witb smiling llowers is gay; Tis open Heaven oue.duy In seven.
The i'oor ilan's :sabbalh Day!
'Tis here the weary nigrlm Doth reach his llouso of Ease!
That blesiied Uouse, called "aeautltul," And that .soft chamber, "Peace."
Tlie lllver of Lite runs througli his dream And the leaves of Heaven nre at plav;
He sees llie Golden Citv Elonin, 'Tills shining Sabbath Day 1
T.tkcheart.yo faint and fearful.
Your cross with courage bear; So many a face now tearful
Shall shine in glory there; Where atl lbe sorrow is bulilslit.
The tears are wiped awa.v; And all elernily shall be
One endless Sabbath Day!
Ah! there are empty places.
Since last we mingled here! Thero will be missing faces
When we metaanother year! But heart to heart, before we pari.
Now altogether pra.v That we mii.v meet lu Heaven, ti
The p:ierniil sabbatli Dav!
pend
AN  ADVENTURE   OF  A  YOUNB HAN FILOM THE COUNTKY.
We .vouiiR funiiera of tlie new con¬ gregation like to we.ir a smnrt shiny liiit up ill  London.    Our liilly-cocka ami   wiiie-awakes are   yooil   enougli for field and nmrlvct, but up in the big town, we've a fanci" to be senteel; and you may be sure I wauteil to look nice that ].artieul:u' iiight—the Inst ofthe Cattle .Show at Isliii;jtoii—when I was goiui; up to I'uele llicry's in  Dalston, for Cousin Kitty is wilhout exeeption tlie most satirical .voting lady iu Ijon- dou.    How she did laush at tue that day I went with her lo the Zoological liai'dcus, when I'd got a pair of gloves that wcre a. size too small lor nie, ami was all the way between the Angcl-aati the CoUosseuui trying to force liiy liu- goi's iuto them.    She declared it was only my awkwardness that hindered their fitting,  wouldn't let me stop to buy another pair, and, iu short, teasied )»y life out.     And site looks so pretty' all the time she's laughing at you, that you ean't be annoyed at her.   Ko won¬ der, tlieu, I wanted to look smart.    It was a darkish   night,  with a bit of breeze blowiuu,   as I picked my  wav through those iiuiet streets tliat lie be¬ tween the Lower Iload  Islington  nud Dalstou.   I lliink they eall that part De Beauvoir town.     Just as I came to the corner of a street, and was racking my brain fora reiiartee to Jliss Kilty's flrst bit of satire, a strong pull' of wind sprang up, whipped oil'my smart shiuy hat as neat as need be, aud  dropped it into an area. This was certainly a nui¬ sance,  but uot a nuisance without a remedy.     I rang at the area-bell ouce, twice, thrice, aud got no answer.    I sounded the lion's head knocker onee, twice, thriee, and got no answer. Then I looked up at the wiudow and saw, what I had not observed  before,  that th^re was a bill in one of them auiioun- eing " This House to be Let."   It was too dark to read the name of the agent, aud 1 was just going to knock next door, and ask them if they knew who kept the key; or, supposing they didn't know who kept the key, if they would oblige me Avitli their Turk's-Iie.ad broom to fish up my hat wilb—I was just go¬ ing to do this, for I couldn't bear the notion of facing Kitty without a hat, let alone the price of it, seventeen and sixpence, when to  my astonishment, the  door as I ha]>peued to lean  up against it, moved slightly inward.    I suppo.se it hadn't beeu hasped at all; at any rate, I gave a gentle push,  and walked boldly iu.    "This  is a lucky piece of carelessucis  ou  somebody's part," thought I to myself.     "Ishail just step dowu to the kitchen, unfasten the back door, regain my hat, and slip away v/ithout anybody being the wis¬ er."   I closed the front door, and grop¬ ed my way dowu the  kitchen-stairs.— It was pitch dark, ami I wished I had gol some matehes; but as I hadn't got any, wishing was no good, and, more¬ over,   I  .saw a  faint light under the kitchen door, whicli showed tbat there must be a lire iu the grate.   I tried the kitchen-door; it was locked, and tlie key was gone!   I felt about, aud fouud the back door leading to tbe area;   it was locked, and the key was gonealso! Here was a jiretty go, as the Cockneys say.    The back door, as I ascertained by feeling the hinges,  opened  toward rae, so it was of no use meddling with that; but I had a wonderful great mind to kick in tbe kitchen door, which was made to open inward.     Setting iLslde, however, the chance of being pulled up for burglary (and what a disgr.ace that would be to the Papworthies, who have rented the same farm since Charles II.'s time,) what would I do, after getting the door open?    Why, I might unfas¬ ten the window (I had noticed when outside that it was shuttered up,) climb out iuto the area, aud recover my hat. But supposing a policem.tu should pass just as my body was half wuy through —why, to a dead certainty,  lie would lock me up ou suspicion.    That would never do.   I returned to the back door determined to pick llie lock.    "I dare¬ say that's burglary as much as bursting it open," I said ; ".still, it dou't make so much noise.     If I ciui ouly liiid au old nail or a bit of wire I'll try it."  So I crept up stairs agaiu, and went into the back parlor.    1 groped all around the room, passed my hand aloug the mantel-piece   and   the   window-frame without  finding so  much  as a pin's liead.    As I could get no Leip tlicre, I ventured iuto the front parlor.     All of a sudden a thought struck  me ;   why shouldn't I uufasleu tbe shutter.s,   aud drop into tlie area"?    Tbatsonuds easy euough; but. how about getting back again"?   " It's a deep-sunk area," said I to myself, " and there .you'll be caged my boj", like a bear iu his den."    All the time I was thinking in this way, I was feeling about the room for a house¬ breaking tool.     Presently, I stumbled over something; I put down my hand and picked up a shoe.    " Pultiug this aud the kitchen fire together,"  thinks I,  "there must be soincliody taking care of the house."   The next moment I stumbled ugain.   This time I had run agaiust a wooden stretcher or bedstead. I put out my baud cautiously, aud laid it on somebody's nose!     The owner of the nose didn't slir, soltook tliclibert.y of feeling tbe head, to learn whether I was in company with a lady or gentle¬ man.   It Was :i man's head of  hair, very rough and wiry, aud bald ou the poll.
"You're in nu awkward predicament Jack Papworthy," I said lo myself; " and you'll better get out of it as soon as possible." I sneaked ou tiptoe to¬ ward the door.
But my tumble ag.aiust the bedstead bad disturbed the sleeper ; he begau to grunt nnd turn about uneasily. I was just about to rpiit the ronni, an'd venture bareheaded into the street, wlion he sat up in bed (so I judged liy lliesouud, for the room was as dark as a cellar), and called out " Kitty!"
For a moment, the name startled me; I forgot tiiat Ihere might possibly be more than one Kitt.y in that wilderness of a city. I stood by the door, held my breath and made no answer.
" Kilty, Kitty, I say; you ain'tcome b.^ck without him, have you V" said tiie mau in a beseecbiug sort of voice.
I stood perfectly still, holding my breath, ami considering what I should do. Better sUp out of the Iiouse, aud take the chaiite of losing my hat, than get locked up on a eharge of felony, and be made the laughing-stock before all the Cockneys iu their newspapers. Besides, I needn't lose my hat; the first policeman I meet is sure to stop me as a suspicious cliaracter, for being bareheaded; I'll tell hira my story, and give him half a crown to get ray hat again. But, on the other hanij, it'a a ticklish job. This fellow in bed may be a desperate character. To say the least he must be queer, most likely cra¬ zy, to sleep In ah empty house without a stick of furniture about him.   Never
mind, I'll chance it.   I'll make s move for the street-door.
AU this cogitation.of mine passed^ through my head like ]igbtning,i>oough I've taken so long to tell It. I made a half-hearteil step toward the door. As soon as ever I did so, the man in bed called ont ih an excited voice: " That's a man's step! Why, Jack, It's-ydn." Ah! I see bow^it'is; you wanted to aurprisa me,- but you havea't, my. dear Jack. I'vo been awake aud asleep, and awake; and the run-away knocks has been uncommon bad to- uiglit (parents ought to be ashamed of themselves not to send their children to bed sooner, for I know it's boys that does it;) but I've been dreaming abont you all the time. It is you. Jack, aiu't it?"
Ho.said these last words in such a be¬ seeching way, that I couldn't help an¬ swering, though in a disguised voice: "Itis." " Theu Where's Kitly ?" "I hope to see her presently—as soon ns 1 get my hat," I added under my breath.
" Gone lo the cook-shop lo get some- thingniceand hot iu honor of you. Jack, eh?" said tho man in bed. " I wonder what it'll be. Maybe an eel-pie with baked later-ah! or a plate of savory almode beef—ah!" or a nice dish of biled tripe and inlons—a-a-h!" As he enumerated each of these dishes, the man in bed smacked his lips with ex¬ traordinary relish.
To tell you tlie truth, geutleman, I was getting interested. The women¬ folk dowu at the farm always say I'm ns curious as one of their own sex, aud I wauled to kuow the meaning of all this. This man evidently mistook rae forsome friend of hisown, of whom he was very fond and very proud.
"You seem to like good eating," I ventured to say.
" Why, Jack, my boy, it's one of the few plea-sures I have left. Thank God, my appetite's alw.iysgooil. And wheu a man's lost the use of his limbs, nnd cau't see out of liis eyes, he makes the best he can of his stomach. I'd ask YOU to light a candle. Jack, but I'm tialf-ashamed for you to see what a bat¬ tered hulk I've become. Twelve years ago, wheu you emigraled—you under¬ stand me. Jack" (liesaid this iu a cu¬ rious sly way)—" I was as handsome and well growed a man as you'd wish to .see, warn't I, Jack?" " You were."
" And now I'm a useless cripple." " How did it happen ?" " What! you never got Kitty's Idler, directed post ollice, Hobart town, Van Diemen's Land?   Ko, I don't suppose you ever did, elseyou'd have said some- thiugabont my accident when you wrote to tell us yon were coming home.   But hasn'tlCitty lold you coming along in the cab?" " Not a word."
"Ah! poor soul, she didn't like to grieve you. Jack. Well, this is how it was. I was working at the graiuing- liouse at tbe powder mills at Hounslow. The mill blew np (they mosily do about ouce ill five year) and blew me aloug with it, blew me up a good-looking ac¬ tive chap. Jack, aud dropped me down a miserable blind cripple." As he said these last words, his voice failed bim, and he shed tears." "And how do .you manage tn live?" " Well, Jack, the Ilrm behaved very handsomely. The.v allow me ten shil¬ lings a week, and Kitty lakes care of empty houses. We contrive to scratch along. Jack. But come. Jack, you've never oITered your brother your band yet. Let me shake your hanil. Jack, even if you didn't care to light a can¬ dle."
I stepped forward, and gave him my haud.
" Lawk. Jack, why, your hand's al¬ most like a gentleman's hand ! It ain't so soft as a dress-maker's, or a harber- dasher's, it's about equal to a master- buililer's.
"You seem to know all aboul hands," I observed,
"Ah!" he answered with asigli, "that comes of want of eyes. When I had my sight, I took no note of such tilings, but now I've got a delicate touch ; and as all sorts of folks, from parsons down to charwomen, are kind enough to come aud see me, and shake hands with me, why, in course, I get a great deal of ])raclicc. I wish Kitty would come back with that supper (I hope it's a tripe;) I'm getting that hungry, X could eat a shilling's worth.
I begau to feel alarmed. "T must tr.v and recover my hat," I thought, "before Kitly comes iu, urshe will, of conrse, discover the deception."
" .\re you afraid of thieves here?"   I asked. "Why?"
" Because I see you lock up your kitchen and back door.   Can yon tell me where the back-door key hangs?" "It don't hang nowhere," replied the cripple, " It's my missis' jiocket." " And the kitchen door key?" "In her pocket.   They're all in her pocket.    Bless you, Jack,  what witli area sneaks and mischievous children, the place   would   be  stripped if  avc warn't  to  lock  everything  up  after dark."
Here was anotherdisappointment. If I wanted to get my hat, 1 must wait till Kitty returned, and face her boldly. But how shall I account to her for
. 1 was interrupted in my reflections
by my compauion, who said: "Come, Jack, strike a light, and take a look at your poor brother Bob. You'll find the matches in one of my shoes, and the candle-stick is under thestretcber." I lighted the candlCj. and saw a man of about forty years of age, lying on a small strelclier bedstead in the middle of an empty room. His face had evi¬ dently been once comely, thongh uow disligureil by scars. Hia eyes were closed, so, if there was anything repul¬ sive about their appearance, 1 didu't see it.
" You are able lo wear shoes then, Bod," I said.
" Ay, but you may notice they'e made of cloth, and tliree sizes too big for me." I had a neat foot once. Jack, and I still wear a shoe when I cau. I tion't like a mummy all day ; I sit by the kitchen- lire." "How do you gel up and down stairs?" " Would you believe it, .lack—she carries me. I dare say j'ou thought her a rough one to look at, bnt she's just the woman to suit me. She's as strong iu the back as a brewer's horse. If I'd had the pick of the county of Middlesex, 1 couldn't have married a kinder-hearted woinan. And she married me for love. It was arler the accident you understand me. Jack. I w.as brought to the church j iu a Bath-cheer, Jack, like an Indian nabob; and all ihe .street was at their winders, tosee me lifteil out by the clerk and sexton. i?ome said sho married me fnr the sake of my pension, bnt I kuow better, Jack. It was ont of downright pity, and knowing the good-looking chap I once had been. 1 wish she'd come in. She must ha' gone a desperate long wayarter that tripe. My appetite's getting outrageous. Tell us about Van Dieman's Laud, Jack, to I'ass the lime away."
1 hesilaled.forlknow very liltle more about Van Dieman's Land thau I do about the moon.
" Ah! I see how it is. Jack," said the cripple; "you'reashamed, aud uo won¬ der. I like you the better for it. But ynuneedn'ttomindnow. You'veserved i>ut your seven year, and as I alway said, you was young, and led away by Bill Hawkins. And Jaclc," he added confi¬ dentially, "we've always kept up the notion in tlie family that it wus I'oaeh- ing. It sounds more respectalile thau— yon kuow what; and I've maintained itwas Poachiug so long, that I've got to believe it m.vself."
" I'm glad to hear you say so," I re¬ plied gravelj'.
" But I aay. Jack," pursued the crip¬ ple, " transportation can't be us bad as it'a represented. It has softeued your voice, and made you talk better, anil given you quite n touch of gentility. You was a roughish young blade wheu I bade you good-bye at Millbank peni¬ tentiary. D'ye recollect how Bill Haw¬ kins jeered liecanse I gave you mother's little clasp-Bible? Y'et they've done away with transportation, I'm told. Y'ou was in one of the last batches."
Here w.ts a pretty position for a re¬ spectable young farmer to occupy,whoEe family had always kept a good uame for fair dealing and honest industry, since Charles II.'s time. For the sake of re¬ covering a seventeen-aud-slxpenny hat, I was meanly pretending to be some¬ body elae, and that somebody else a re¬ turned convict; but I couldn't bear to tell this poor helpless fellow that I had been playing a trick on him. He had set his Jieart.on seeing hia prodigal br^ither, and he would be so grieved if I'tiridt:,neiyed him; so, having begun the advdtiture, I determined to carry it through. ;,Tho difficulty was how to
pleaaant'sqnabble. . The matter stood thus: Kitty might be expected to retijrn at iahy moment, accompanied by her reiil brbther-in-low; she woiiUl naturally denounce me as an impdater, anil in¬ stead of recovering my hat, I should probably discover that her arm was aa muscularly developed as her back, not'. t6;nieiftlon the help which the returned' trihe^drt wonld bS siire tp'clTe'her. J I' deterhiincd to feel my way Iiy degrees', and as, luckily, my entertainer was a simple-minded, talkative fellow, to learu from him exactly how the land lay.
" What uame d'ye suppose I've gone under, Bob,since I've got my freedom?" I said.
"Kot Sladden, Jack," auswered the cripple, anxiousI.v ; " never Sladden, I should hope. Though you're a rich man now, and I'm a poor oue, slill recollect, Jack, the name of Sladden wns nn honest name till yon went and tarnished it."
" No, Bob, I shouldn't dream of such a thing; I call myself Thompson."
" That's right," returned the cripple. "Y'our hand, Jack; and a brother I shall always be to you in brotherly feel¬ ings, though difTerent in name. Aud I say. Jack, what did you tell Kitty? Because sho don't know that you went out under government; she believes you was a bounty ticket. What did you say lo her?"
¦" Bob, shall I tell you a liltle secret?"
"What is it?"
" I haven't seen Kitty yet."
" Not seen Kitty yet ? Why, you came here with her."
"No, I didn't."
"How did you find yonr way in, then •?"
" The door was ajar."
" 1 can't credit it. Kitty'd never leave the front door open."
" She did for once, though; I knocked and rang before I found it out."
" Ay, and I thoughtit wasarunaway knock and ring. But where on earth is Kitty ? Didn't you see her aboard the vessel?"
" No."
"Jack," he exclaimed, suddenly seiz¬ ing my hand, " are you sure you are playing no trick on me? Remember, I'm a poor helpless creature. Where is Kitty?"
" On my honor, I don't know."
" Hush 1" he said, putting his hand to his ear—"husli! It's her's; I know her footamongahnndred; and she's alone."
These last three worda mnde me de¬ cide what course to adopt. As a heavy masculine sounding foot came lo the front door, I overset the candlestick aa if by accident.
" There," said I, " my awkwardness has left us iu the dark."
"So much the belter. Jack," replied the cripple. ".She's missed you down at the ship; we'll give herau agreeable surprise."
Somebody opened the street door with a latch-key, and advanced into the pas¬ sage. I confess I felt rather uncomfort¬ able; bnt I stood still, and said nothing. PresenUi", a rather gruU* femalo voice exclaimed: "Bob, Bob, are you asleep?"
"Asleep? Nota bit of it, my dear Kitty," replied the cripple cheerily, •' but wide awake, and as hungry as a hunter."
"Strike a light, then—you know whei'c the matches are," saiii the lady, wlio appeared to be untying her bonuet strings. "A pretty dance. Bob," she went on to say, "you've led me for nothing. There was no such name as Sladden aboard the ship."
" He came over under the name of Thompson, Kitl.v."
" How do you know ?"
" Because I've seeu liiin."
"Where?"
" Here," said Mr. Sladden, as he struck a match, and re-lighled the can¬ dle. " Brother Jack, at yoiir service.' Look at him, Kitly, aud tell me what you think of him."
It was a trying moment. Mrs. Slad¬ den Wiis a tall, bony, liardfeatured wo¬ man of five and forty. She look the candle out of her husband's hand, aiid submitted me lo a critical examin.itibn.
"Well, Kitty, what d'ye think of him?" repeated the cripple, with a pleased smile npon his face.
"Why, Bob," answered Mrs. Slad¬ den, "you alwaj'stold me your brother Jack was such a rough fellow; I think he looks quite the gentleman. Wel¬ come lo old I'jiiglaiid, Mr. Jack," she said, extending her hand: "ours is hut a poor place, but such as it is, you're welcome to it."
I felt like a miserable humbug, as my supposed sister-in-law put her hartl, honest hand inlo mine; but what coiild I do?   I had trodden the downward
fiath of deception; I was bound to fol- ow It to the eud. So, after the lapse of some minutes, which were .spent in general conversation, I said: "Can I speak lo you alone for a few minutes, Mi'.s. Sladden ?"
"Certainly, sir," replied the poor, unsuspecting woman, treating me witli immense respect. "Step down stairs to the kitchen, please; 'tis the ouly comfortable room in the honse. Aud so my poor husband mado shift tu get up and let you in, did he"?"
" Here I am, at any rato, Mrs. Slad¬ den," said I with a smile, aa she un¬ locked the kitchen door.
And what was it you might be wish¬ ing to say lo me, Mr. Jack ?" she asketl. "I just want yon to unfasten the back door leading lo theare.a. The fact is, that ra.v hat blew olT as I was coming round the corner of the street, and has fallen down there."
" Oh, is that all, sir?" said Mr.s. Slad¬ den, laughing, as she feltin her pocket for the key.
"What a shame It is of me to de¬ ceive such an amiable couple," thought I; "slill I must recover my hat."
My reputed sister-in-law was in the aot of Inserting the key into the key¬ hole, when the sound of wheels was beard outside, followed hy a thunder- itiR rat-tat-tat at the street door.
"Bless me, who can that be?" ex¬ claimed Mrs. Sladden, as she rushed up stairs wilh the unused key in her hand. I followed her with trembling steps: I knen- whose arrirni that knock betokened. She opened Ihe door toa niany-caped cabman, whose vehicle stood at tbe edge of pavement.
"That's right," shouted aloud jovial voice from the cab-window. "Give a liai'Istoer.'itic rat-Ian, cabby; I'm a gen¬ tleman now, ever.v inch of me."
"Name of Sladden?" snid the cab¬ man, addressing my late siater-in-law. I wailed to hear no more, but, bare¬ headed as I was, darteil down the steps into the street. A nut-brinvn face, or¬ namented with a great .shaggy yellow- beard, was thrust from the eab-wlndow. and a joHv voice exclaimed: "Hollo! Brother Bob!"
" I made no answer, but ran away as fast as my legs could carry me. When I had placed agood half-mile between m.vself aud Mr. Sladden's abode, I fell into a walk, and tied my handkerchief over my head. I luckily escaped Ihe no¬ tice ofthe police; and as soon as I reached a cab staud, got into a two- wheeler and drove tom.v hotel. I did not venture to visit tliu liberies that night; and as for inquiring after m.v seventeen and six-penny hat, I diu't po again within a mile of De Beauvoir I'own; but for aught I know, itmay be lying in that area .still.-CAomficrs Journal.
Duty of a Mother.—She should bo firni, gentle, kiud, aiwnys ready to at¬ tend to her child. Slie should never laugh at bim, at what he does that is winning; uever allow bim to think of bis looks, except to be neat and clean ill all his liabila. She should teach him to obey a look ; to respect tbose older llian himself; slie should never make a command wilhout seeing it performed in the right manner. Never speak of a child's Ittulls or foibles, or repeat his remarks before him. It is a aure way to spoil a child. Never reprove a child when excited, nor let your toneof voice be raised when correcting* Strive to inspire love, not dread; respect, not fear. Remember you are training aud educating a soul for eternity.
A STOEY IN FIVE STOEIES,
'Jin. EBEN DOtBEAn'S STCiltY.
I am |0ne, bf.lhe.firin,pt Dolbear &¦ Cp„ ship owners. . I write ihis.do.wni.U: my.^aity.becau^eI tim i^fiq|dman.,ijnd because.,ihifllii'p^<'''^W!''yi:Ii;apoU not li.vetote.ll,tb,^stq'ry,ipany,years, {tixe otbe; panies in.Ce,r^ted,])eiug rmuch youuger, 8^c.l^ iufqrmatlou as'I,have to give may.becqine of ¦value when I tim uo louger, here. Though, possible, it la scarcely probable.that Cajitaiu Spiu- iieria yet living; but other individuals may exisf who may feel anxious to dis¬ cover tlie whereabouts of his daughter, to whom the incidents here narrated may give a clue to the person or per¬ sons w.lio have detained or concealed her. Il maj' bea question of property, or merely of malice. It Is even possi¬ iile that the girl may have been foully dealt, with. In any case my record may bo of value.
Captaiu Oliver Spinner sailed for us
fbi ¦   -      ' -"'
h
manage ititiceessfully; m'other.words; how to get back my hat withbvit an uh-
ir twenty years, and no man ever did Is duty better. Ten years ago he-left ])ort iu charge of tho ship Beulah, bound for the coast of Africa, with as good a crew and ns line a vessel as ever sailed. The voyage was disastrous. All we kuow is, that the Beulah was never seeu again. She must have been wreciied in mid-ocean. Not one of the crew or of the passengers ever returned to tell the tale. The passengers were three missionaries aud their wives, aud and a scientific geutlomen who iutend¬ ed to proceed to the interior. All were worthy xieople and a loss to society.
No absolute news ever reached us; we were, of course, for along timo in suspense. During that time Mrs. Spin¬ ner came often to our ollice. She was a very pretty, youngish woman, with a daughter who greatly resembled her, and who must have been about teu yeara of age. Her anxiety waa very great, butshe clung to hope after we had abandoned it.
It was very hard to tell her thatwe had no doubt of the loss of the vessel, but in the end we were obliged to do this. Eveu after that she came to see us once a day with her litlle girl. The child was very pretty. Her skin was fair, her eyes black, and her bair gold¬ en. She had a dimple in her chin, aud her fingers tapered very remarkably. A very noticeable child indeed; so much so, that having once seen lier face, no one would be apt to forget it.
We all grew very fond of her, and we all felt that it was very hard for both of them to lose so good a husband and father.' Probably, as the Captain had grown rich by his calling, andhad left them very poorly oil", we should bave proved our s^'mpathy iu a sub¬ stantial manner, his services for many years giviug a him claim upon us, but that Providence suddenly placed It be¬ yond our power to aid the widow. She died very suddeuly -on the teuth of December, IS—, just a year from the day on which the Beulah was reported dne. Atthe funeral the child was the only relative present. The olHclntiiig undertaker consequently placed her alone in the flrst coach. On our i eturn from the cemetery thia coach was empty. Very much alarmed, we ques¬ tioned the driver. Tiiis is the atory he told us:
On leaving the cemetery the liorses stopped to water at a tavern hard by, and the driver himself went in to get a drink. On coming out he s.aw an old lady In black standing by tlie coach door. She was tall, stout, wore gold glasses, and hiul a wart uiiou her chin. She said to him :
"I am this child's aunt. Accident made me too late for the ceremony. I desire to step inside this coach aud ride home with the child." He answered, "Very well, ma'am," aud opened the door for her.
Arriviug in llie city, the carriages were,.as usual, separated. The driver, fiiiding Iiimself unwatched, took anoth¬ er driiik'a't a public house. After this he'droye back to the late residence of MI'S.; .Spirint^r. Only on opening the door;did he discovery that the coach was cmptyWis the old lady, ou entering bad p'lilltid.'fhe blinds down. ! We'made every iiiquiry and every search. We discovered an apple wo¬ man who had soeri ah old lady with a sleeping child in her'arms step out of a mourning conch while lis driver was absent'from the box, but she only knew, they had turned a corner.
We learned from a neighbor that an old lady'with a'wart on her, chin had spoken to the child several'times, and ouce alariiied her by making a pre¬ tence of leading her away. Only the old lady's w.ay of taking notice of the cliild the neighbors thouglit strange.
We discovered through thesame per¬ sons, that Mrs; Spinner had said that the Captain and herself were utterly without relatives. We advertised in vain. Wu oUijred rewards fruitlessly. Iu the end we let the matter drop; and now that ten years have passed, it Is al¬ most forgolleu. So, thinking it over, I have concluded to set the facts dowu, aud leave them at my demise in the cai'o of my lawyer, in case that any need may overcome of theluformatlou and description of Clara Spinner.
ElJE>r DOLUEAU. •
..    II..
CA'PT. OLIVEli SPINMEK'S STOBV.
Only tbe good Lord, in whom I trust through all—strange as the life is that I am leading, and have been loading, for llie last ten years—ouly He can know whether any humau eyes will ever read what I'ra writing now, wilh anything that will mark, on the leaves of the lieulah's old log-book, washed ashore,Instead of being picked up by a homeward bound vessel, as I hoped it would be when I made that last record In it aboard the Beulah, and fastened It down tight in and empty keg, and tos¬ sed overboard. This is what I wrote that night: "Nov. ",d,.lS—. Sprung a leak, and going down fast, in tbo heaviest gale that I ever sailed nndor. No boat cnn live in such a sea. I've tried to do my duty, bnt man is powerless now. Some good Cbriatian plonsp take the news to my wile, nnd break itns kindly as IJioy cnn; and may God bless Iheiu, nnd huve mercy upon us." (Signed) Oliver SpiNsi;n,
Caplain oflho Beulah. "Owners—Dolbear & Co., New "yo'rk." I'd knowu that it was coming, all alon.c'. 'i'he sharks had been following in our wake for d.iys. At au islaud where we stopped for water, I saw, at twelve <>,clock <!ne night, tlie rats come out ofthe holtl and swim ashore. Four and twenty of 'em, as I'm aliving sin¬ ner. Kvery night tho corpse lights danced about the.rigging, cold and blue and awful; and Jem Spoors lying'in his hainnidck one night, saw his old cappeii that went down twelve years ago oil' the Bermudas. And he aaj's to Jem, says he, " We'll meet soon, my Uld, and not on land, either."
But then, as .lem was half seas over when he saw the vision. It mightn't count among the signs. I did my best after Ihe leak was sprung, as weljas be¬ fore—so did tbe men; .so did the pas¬ sengers, tbe mi.ssionariea tucking up their sleeves and helping with tbe besl. I never .shall forget tbe litlle p.ale-faced missionary'awifekueeliugdowntnpray after we were in ihe boat, with tlie olhor woman hiding her face upon her shoulder. She wasn't so calm. Y'ou sec she had left a child at home.
Saya I to her, thinking of my Clara, " How old Is youra."
Saysshe, "Only twelve,"and burstout crying.
Siiys I, " Mine's len," aud she's along of her niamiuy.
And tho other woman cries out' "Oh, Lord, h,'i*e merc.y on the widow aud tbe orphans, and keep them in Thy hand!"     .:
And it wave broke before she had doue speakiug, and I never saw any of tliem again.
The next I knew I was lyiug on the sand, wilh a spear, aa though I was a piece of beefsteak just a"bout done. I was as weak as a bab.v, and he did what he cho.se. He didu't choose to kill me; and that's a wonder, for I've seen theni eat each other since.
According lo my calculation, I've beeu liere uow ten years or more.— They m.akemn work, but that's a sort of comfort: Not a white man liave I seen aince our beat went down, and not a sail, for they marched me away Into the heart of the country in a few days. .
I aupposej.shall, die here, for It's plain the devils will never let roe go alive. I've had two black wives offered , to nie, and it Is rib use telling 'em I'm apllceda'i"eady, for laws are ndwbere here; I'm nearly as black as they are. I dress prett'y mitch tbe same, leaving off the bea^s;, And. when they ate' left off.'th'qreia^i'f ranch to swear by/ My beardis'ddWn to'my wiist, and I'm as leaii"'"^'^'''' '¦"^--""    ¦   ¦¦""
I feel my braina-going. Ithinkof my wife, my dear old lass;, and wonder whether they let her aturve to death, or whether she's spliced' again. Teh years would free any woniap; Lord pity me! .And I.'tfilnk. of ,my pretty iittle'girVand hbiv l^d frighten her, if
she'c(;uld'8ee,meT-nie tlli''' ^^^ '^^S^ t-" call her dear'old. <ladd.v, iand.-rJoye to kisaand paw^ and I think' Isn't a child any more, but a young woman as old as her mother was wheu I court¬ ed her; aud I break down then, and the savages stand around and grin—all but the fattest ,of my black wives; she comes and riiba my feet and pats them—a sigu of affection, bad as I've treated her, Ireckou. I'taalUikeahor- riddream. Ilookatmyfaceinthewaler, and can't see Capt. Oliver Spinner In it, only a savage kind of a fellow I nev¬ er knew; and I wonder whether there is really a heaven for him, though he hasn't heard a church bell or a chap¬ lain for ten good' yeara. And some¬ thing seema to tell me that Polly ia dead. She said she couldn't live with¬ out me, and she was a delicate little thing. She'd have fretted her life away, ray Polly would. As for loving auy other fellow, I was wild to think of that. But Clara, she muat be alive; a child like that couldn't die early—a bright, healthy child. If I could only see her once—just once. May be that can't be, but after I'm dead some white man may come here and find this book, aud take tbe news to Clara, and word from her poor daddy, that he thought of her, the child helefther, and thought of her the womaii she has grown, and prayed God to blesa her to the laat. Oliver Spinner. Oneo Master of the Beulah, but not even master of himself now, but cast away without chart or compass, and lost as ship was never lost upon the ocean.
III.
When we behold primroses and vio¬ lets fairly to fiouriah, we conclude tbe dead of tlie winter is p.ast, though asyet no rosesor July Howersdo appear, which long after lie hid in their leaves, or lurk in their roots, but in due time will discover tliemaelves. Thus if some sraall buddings of grace do but ap|)ear in the soul, it la an argument of far greater growth, if some signs be but above ground in sight, othera are un¬ derground in the heart; aud, though, the former started first, the other will follow in order; it being plain that such a man is passed from death unto life by bis hopeful and happy spring'of some signs in the heait—John Speheef.
"My boy, what does your tiotherab Ieaii'ba'WiiSir:''f caiVbeUrlt'MrtitiS for ia Hving?" was asked of alliftlei bare^ Ias'I'in'dif*ork','l5'nt''when'there'8arest"' footed urchin.   " She cats cbldvittels:" f ing spell and I gettothihki'n'gtif hote'e,
THE STORY OV ALliEBT IIAKUISON.
I'm not super.slitiou.s—not a bit of it. I only went lo the clairvoyant for a lark, along with theother fellows.
We were all wilh Dolbear and Co., ship-owners, and jolly old fellows they are, old Eben Dolbear, especially. The way I came to be with them was this: My mother and father were missiona¬ ries and sailed in one of their vessels, the Beulah, for the coast of Africa, when I was a mere child. The vessel waa lost, and I, a poor little shaver, was left an orphan, wilh no one but an old grandmother to take care of me, and Mr. Kben Dolbear he.ai'd of me and took me into the ofllce, where I have beeu ever since. The day we weut to tiie clairvoyant was the very one on which I heard the news that I waa soon to be sent in a position of trust, upon oneof the vessels of the firm, to the coast of Africa.
I was delighted with the prospect. Strange as it may seoin, I had alwaya longed lo go mi that great voyage. I wanted to see the place where my young mother lived among the savages, and tried to teach them something. The voyage that was her tleath was not lier first one, you know. It seemed as though it would bring me nearer to her and make me understand her better.
There stood the little house where she had lived. Auother missionary in it uow. Aud even the sea, that gave her restand heaven, had nothing dread¬ ful in itto mc. I ^^anted to go very much.
But it was not of that I meant to sjieak. iSIy story ought to begin witli m.v visit to the clairvoyant.
She lived in a tumble down old place near the Kast river, aud some of our fellows had been to her, and had heard wonderful things.
Oue day a party of us resolved to go for fun; at least it was fun for me.— Earnest for one or two, I think, for we had something to do with the sea, and even a daali of salt water will make any oue .superstilion.s.
'i'he fortune teller laughed in her aleeve, no doubt, at our simplicity, but she looked as grave aa a jude as she led ua In and told ua that she had been wailing for us.
"I knew you'd come before you went to aea," she said, looking at me. " It'a well to know what is to bappeu before you make a voyage." And tbat did startle me a little, though it was only a trick of hers, as I knew .at tlie time.— Then she look us one by oue into a lit¬ tle room aud told us our fortunes sep¬ arately. Some came out lookinggrave, some jolly; at last it came my turu. I sat down ou the ottoman at her side, and looked away into the air at nothing. She didu't look handsome when she diditeitner; she was a stout old lady with a wart on her chin, and green e.yes; but after awhile she startleil me agaiu. "The dead will tempt you to go on," sho said, "and you'll find tbe liv¬ ing. It's awiiy across the witter. Why don't you go? Y'ou are needed. Luck Is before you, and love. Do you waut to see the girl you ale lo marry?" "Of course," I said. " Sit here, then," shesaid, ".and don't move;" aud then ahe lit something that lay upon a metal dish; it burnt with a thick smoke and n heavy perfume. The room w:is filled with It. In a momeut it passed away, and I saw what looked like a picture frame, within it a figure of a woman. She waa young and beau¬ tiful ; her eyes were black, and ber hair golden ; she had a dimple in her chin, and the most taper! ng 11 ngers I ever saw in my life. Altogether she was beauti¬ ful. I Iiad never cared much, about girls before; now I felt it was quite pos¬ sible for me lo be In love. I sat spell¬ bound. I was not fool enough to Imagine that I saw a vision, but I felt certain that ifl ever met a woinan who had such a faee as the one I looked upon I should adore her. "That my fate?" I cried. "Well, she will be, if I ever come across her." And then the per¬ fume and smoke filled the room again, aud when it was gone I saw only the walls of the room again; but I went home in a dream, and I'm ashamed tu own that I looked for thnt face every¬ where for more than a year.
Once I thought I saw it on hoard a ferry-boat wheu a girl just before mo put up a thick veil, butshe put It down in an instant, and I never eveu imagined sueh a thing ugain. But slill—laugh If you like—I resolved that if I couhln't find a wife like that, I would have none. I tliiuk some .young Prince In a fairy talo I read when I wasa little boy, niaiie much the samo vow, but that had uolhiiig to do with it.
In dead earnest the face liaunted nie night and day; and I believed after while that there was .something in it. I believed so when, at last I found my¬ self on board of oneof Dolbcar's vessels as supercargo, and on my way to the coast of Africa. I used to look down into tlie water and see the face there, and it often floated half way between me and the moon on bright nights, aud I was as mllch in love wilh it as a man could be with nothing but a face—and that, if yon believe me, is a gond deal. At last we reached our desllnatioii, and T found myself busy enough ami with an obstinate autl trying set to deal with. The ciliuate seemed to liave de¬ moralized the few white inhabitants; and uo wonder. Wheu this was over, I went across tho country to see some niisalonaries wlio had known my p.t- reuts. I found them quite baked brown, but not so hopeless as I should have expected. One of the ladies had a new pet in baud—a fat nesress who had beeu taken prisoner, and carried away from her home. She was getting ou well in her catechism, andhad no vicious waya with hor. She had a story to tell, that the mlasionaries, well up in her dialect, told me in turn. It .set me thinking. She said that she had a white husband, just like the white folks .about her; that ner people had found him on the sea shore, and made him prisoner ; that he wanted to go, but that they would not let him ; that he had a long beard and blue eyes; and that he said his prayers to the sky, aud taught her to do so.
It was so many winters aince he came there, and she held up ten fingers; and a ship had broken to pieces on the ocean, and thrown him up on the sand at that time.
There was a chance that this was one ofthe men from the Beulah, and though Ihey told me I was risking my life, I could not go home without knowing the trutli. So, with a guide, and plenty of beads and rings and red cloth, I set out for the part of'the country the womaii camo from,and got there atlast. My company waa well armed, and beads were iu demand. I said nothing ; but watclied carefully, and before long I saw my man, burnt pretty black, it is true, and in native costume, with a beard to his knees. He had come to the spot, and stood looking at me for a mo¬ ment, then he cried out, " Oh, good Lord, at last!" and I held out my handa to him. "Who is'It?" I cried, trem¬ bling;' for howdld I know but that it inight be even tny own' father? and aaid hei'"'I used to be Oliver Spinner; and perhapa am yet."
Bald I, Captain Spinner of the ship Beulah, loat teu years ago?" and you see we were white folks in.'a land 61 savages, and that's'a tie as hear as the tie of blood. .      :
ThdnextmomentI'had him in my arms, and we were' crying together—' I don't car4 wlloi'kniiws It^crylng'
hardi--'.'!   " -^i'   "'.:"-ii'        ¦; ' ¦.  .
I'd have given my life' for him; but they only wanted beads and let rae take him'quletly: Once aboard, and dress¬ ed, and trimmed, hewos agood looking old sailor enough. But I had a terrible task before me.
I knew that his wife was dead, and that his child had disappeared, and he wouldn't let me bold my tongue. It all came out, and hia heart waa nearly broken ; he aat and brooded over il for hours together, and he knew of no oue who had any reaaon for stealing the girl.
The day we landed in New York he waa in very low apirita, but aa we walked up Broadway togetlier, I aaw a change come over bla face. He atopped short and caught my arm. "Mess¬ mate," said he, " I kuow who'll find the girl if she's living, or tell if she's dead—that is she isn't dead herself. Did you ever hear of a clairvoyant?"
"A clairvoyant!"'I cried, remem¬ bering my haunted face. " Why, yes, I have heard of a such thing."
" I know oue," said he, "that tells as true as gospel. I'd never gone ou that last voyage if I'd heeded her." And then he took my arm and marched me without a pause to the door of my old fortuneteller, tho one who had shown me the face of my future wife, to the very door on which hung the sign—
"Madame ,   Clairvoyaut,"   and
entered.
Thero was my stoutold woman again, with a wart ou her chin. Captain Spinner looked at her as though there was no doubt whatever iu his mind she was an oracle, and went to the point at once.
"I've seen your power afore, mum, and I kuow you do tell true, for you warned me of danger, aud danger there w.as ahead, sartin sure. Now I've come to you again. I want you to flnd my gal, if so be she ia about the earth, and if you'll find her, I'll bless you all my daya, for you'll fiud all I have to live for.
The woman looked at him in a strange W.ay.
" You've been thought dead a greal
while," she said.    "You've beeu iu
strange lands.   Is that true?"
"God knows it is," said the Caplain.
Tlien she satdown and shut her eyes.
SVe stood aud listened.
"I aee your girl," shesaid. "She is waiting and waiting. Y'ou'll find her soon. Do you waut me to give you a glimpse of her?"
"Amen," aaid tlieCaptain, awe strick¬ en and not kiiuwiiig what lo say.
Theu the oid woman lit the lamp, and the smoke and the perfume I re¬ membered so well filled the room, clear¬ ed away aud showed us the face that had haunled me su lung—the same sweet face, the tiuy: hand with liny fingera seeming to busy themaelves with some woman's work of silk and beada,
" I t'a Clara," cried the Captain. "It's my girl!"
"Sit slill, or you'll break the charm," said the woman. But just then I saw the figure move. The work was thrown away. A voice cried, "Papa! It is papa come backagain!" Aud a woniau —a living woman, and no ghost or vis- iou—rusheil through the perfumed smoke towarda us.'
I saw the Ciqitain clasp it in liis arms, and knew, aa I knew before, aud as I have knowu aince, that ihosestout arma euclosed my fate, for good or ill, as far as this life went.
IV. THE   CLAIRVOYANT'S  STGIIY.
What a fuss. As if I'd done auy liarm. Lor! you'd a thought I'd mur¬ dered the girl. Arresting me, aud all. Well, the Captain is reasonable, that's ono comfort; and I've never doue the girl any harm, but brought her up aa iunocent as a lanib.
I needeil a pretty critter for iny fulure wives, and I found one, that's all. All she had to do waa to look lovely and say nothing. A body must live, and when I knew Caplain Spinner was hack, I made up my minil to tiud how much he could give, and let him have ills daughter. I am sure that was honorable. And no nun iu a convent was ever brought u|> more particular. She says I was kind, and so I have been. And as for being an im]ioster, I ara not. I have told true In uumerous cases. I'm a seventh daughter, and I oiler $1,000 to any oue who can surpass me. So there, uow. But people are very ungrateful, and I need have ex¬ pected nothing better from that Cap¬ taiu Spinner nnd the rest of 'em.
V. CI.ARA SI'lNXEIl'S STOUY.
After this strange, dull life, alone with poor old Madame in that dark little home, cau it be that I am so happy ? My dear papa back agaiu and so fond'of me! My time jiossed as other girls piuss theirs. That terrible shame because of the deceit I helped to practice ngainst my will all over. And—ah, yes, that is the brightest dream of all—I am to be Albert Harri¬ son's wife. I have loved him since I first saw him; and he has loved me; and we will uever leave papa, who has suITered so much, aud I shall quite for¬ get tiiose sad aud louely years iu my great bapiiiness.
TWO CHINAMEN IN CISCO.
SAN FfiAN-
liY   JUSTIN   M'CARTIIY.
I sat one morning at breakfast in one of the great Ban Francisco hotels. The hour was late und there were few guests iu the room. A tall, handsome Irish waiter, wearing a bluck mustache which Fra Diavolo might have envied, and speaking in an accent which Bar¬ ney Williams miglit study, came up lo uie and dashed inlo a frank conversa¬ tion. He knew my name or ray face, at all events, he knew that I carae from the other side of the world, that he and I were fellow countrymen, and that I had something to do witli books and magazines and newspapers. So he siraigiitway appealed to me for s.ympn- tliy, at least, and, if possible, for aid against a grievance from which tlie Irishmen in San Francisco are suffer¬ ing. Thnt grievance was tlie presence of the Chinese. He would bave them tbem excluded, expelled, kejitout by a heavy tax, or a "wall, orariythingwhat- ever that could keep them out. I en¬ deavored lo argue the point, dwelling esiiecially on tlie fact that perhapa he and I could hardly demaud with very good grace any measure to exclude for¬ eigners from the United Stales. There wus a jiositive majesty in tlie scorn with whicli ho repudiated any analogy be¬ tween ourselves and tbe Mongolians. " Sir," said he, " we made the country and it is ours!" This was to me so flat¬ tering and indeed captivating a view of the sul'ject, it filled mo wilh so strange and delightful a sense of properly aud lordly rule, that I did not care to com¬ bat that position, at least. So, placidly assuming tbat lie and I had made the United States, aud uowowned the whole concern, I merely argued that there waa still no just reason why we should exercise so severely our rights of owner¬ ship as to shut out tbo Jioor Chinese. Thereupon we discussed the character of IheChinese; and my friend declared that the.v were unfit to live anywhere amongdeeentpeople, because they were sostupid and soiguoranttliattbey knew nothiug and never conld learn. "They are aa ignorant aa the piga, sir, every oue of them ; and they'll never be any better. It isn't in them," Then heleft me—regarding me, I fear, as desperate and unworthy.
I had occaaion that verj'day to recall to mind with an odd sensation tbe judgment of my fellow-countrymen. I went iu company with a friend, a San Francisco merchant, to viait aome Chi- neae acquaintances of his. The flrst place wo visited was a large wholesale, tea store, owned by two Chinese mer-' chants; who were brothera. Both were young men, the elder probably not much ..more than thirty. Nothing could be more graceful and courteous, more gentlemanlike in the stricteat senae, than the welcome extended to me by both the brothers.' There was, iu tbe demeanor ofthe elder especially, a dash of that soniewhat melancholy grace which is so peculiarly Oriental and so very captivating. He really might be called a handsome young man, with a lithe, supple figure, and handa small and soft as a woman'a.'
A Chinese attendant brought tea iu tiny cups, and wefell into conversation led offby my San FranciacaD-friend.-^ The'elder of tbe Ohinese brothers-acted,: for the moat'part; as siAikeaman of the
firm., Heapoke English quite fluently,! and correctly—with, of course, a spme- what pecular accent, which at first niade Ita little dilBcultto ^understand certain words, but with atrict gram¬ matical accuracy. He spoke .Ij'retlch, with almost equal fluency anil correct-^' ness, and he 'had a Very 'good' KndW-' ledge of (German. In the bourae of oou'-' versation he remarked;oui certain little peculiarities in the constructiou of a Gerraau sentence, wliich, as he explain¬ ed, reminded hiiusomewhat of hisown language; He talked in a soft, low voice, with a certain music in it,'and with occasionally a graceful gesture.— He asked me many questions about England and Buglish politics, was familiar with the names andcbaractera of most of our leading men, and waa aware that a political change ofa popu¬ lar and democratic nature had lately taken place in England. His brother, he sail], had lived for many years not exactly in England, but in apartof the English dominions. He named the place; but I presume the letters mak¬ ing up the word present almost insur¬ mountable difliculties in Chiuesearti- culation, for I could not at first under¬ stand what place he meant. He had to repeat it two or three timea over, and very slowly, before I could make out that he was speaking of Melbourne, in Auatralia.
The younger brother now came into the conversation. Although he had lived a much longer time among En- glish-apeaking people, he did not talk our language nearly as well aa the el¬ der brother. He had lived In Mel¬ bourne for, if I remember rightly, aome twelve years. He liked the place and the climate, but it did not appear that the Cincse population there were of a class among wliom a branch of hia house<!ould hesuccessfuliy maintained, and he had therefore come to join his brother in San Francisco. He spoke with warmth and energy of the free¬ dom accorded to the Chinese in Mel¬ bourne. There a man miglitcomoand go as he pleased, where he pleased, un¬ molested. No rabble pursued him, no brutal insults made life painful to him ; he waa under no necessity of living in thia quarter and avoiding that; he was the equal of anybody else, and no one thought of molesting or even of mock¬ ing him. But herein San Francisco! —aud be shrugged hia shoulders with an expressiveness wliich made one think of the Faubourg St. Germain.
This naturally opened up the whole question of the condition aud prospects of the Chinese iu California.    Both the brothera spoke warmly, almostbitterly, of the hostile feeling so constantly ex¬ hibited toward tbe Chinese ]iopulatioii III Sau Franeisce, and there was a ring of sai'Ciujm iu the tone of  tbe elder wheu he commented on tho fact that the oppositlou came almost'altogether uot from native Americans, but froui " foreigners." he said, " likeourselves." I remembered my  fellow-countryman of the  raorniiig,  and   hia  indigiiaut repudiation  of any auch  attempt at a comparison between fiireignera.  ,1 am bound lo say that I did not, In aiiy in¬ stance, duriug my slay In San Frau^ Cisco, hear a native American speak with hai'shnesa or aversion of the Chi¬ nese.   The general opinion of genuine Americaus seemed  lo say "The Chi¬ nese   are   good   fellows   enough.   We want Iheir labor;   ami,  if they stay among us, and really desire suffrage by and by, why, they must have it."        ! Both of the broihei'S seemed to thiuk that tlie Chinese emigrants of the bel¬ ler class would be glad to settle In Cali¬ fornia and make a home there, if they felt sure of being placed ou a footing of equality   with   tbe   other citizens—at least, so far as to secure the general and certain protection of the law.    Many Chinese, they told  me,  wcro  already bringing over their families, and would be glad lo remain in thecountry always. The elder brother smiled when I asked if It was not part of a Cliiuaman's reli¬ gion tbat he muat be  buried with his aiieestors; and, allhough ho did not answer the question directly, he seemed to convey the idea that there were uot very much in that ditficulty. He asked me afterward whether Christians and Jews did not contrive to have a new interpretation of certain articles of their faith which stood in the way of busi¬ ness ; and I replied that I had heard of such thiugs, read of them perhaps iu romance or in stalirlcal extravagance. I asked him whether the average Chi¬ namen in San Francisco took auy in¬ lerest In American politics, or knew wliat was going on around thera.     He answered that ihej did uot in general know very much ; butthey did not like lo be supposed to know even as miich as they did.   "I confess," aaid my San Francisco friend, breaking iu bluntly, " I have alwaya thought that j-our Chi¬ nese, even the poorest of them, get the hang of what is going on pretty well aud know nearly all about It."     Our Chinese host seemed to admit tbat his countrymen knew more than, he al¬ waya   cared  to acknowledge. '  There is  apparently  .an   impression  among tbem that they would be disliked even more than they uow are if it were gen¬ erally supposed that they knew any¬ thing about political affairs, or were in any way, however remote and indirect, qualifying Ihemselves for cillzenahip. On oue  poiut,  however,  the Chinese brothers were distinct and emphatic; and I menllon this especially  becauso It directly contradicted the impression I had previously formed of theChiue.se population.   They assured me that the Chinese are not anxious to remain iso¬ lated as a el.-iBS, that they are not indif¬ ferent 10 the queslion of citizenship, and that they are beginning more and more to think theraselves entitled to ask for the protecliou of the franchise. We  talked  of public  men in   the United  States and elsewhere—among the reat, of the late Mr. Buliugame. My Chinese hostapoke very highly of Burliugame's knowledge ofthe Chinese language, character, and  atl'aira.;   We spoke of some Japanese who were then cominir to .settle in California; and I waa amused to find that the Chinese brethren talked ofthe Japanese very much asa New Yorker talks ofaBos- toiiian,  or vice versa.    They' utterly denied that the Japanese were iu auy wa.y  wliatever  more   euligliteiied or beller thau  the Chinese, aud pointed with a   quiet triumph to the fact that hilherlo Japanese settlement-inCali-" fornia had proved a failure.   The quiet little laugh ofthe elder brotlier, when anything struck him as humorous, was very  jileasant to hear.   It was gentle; like every  thing about   bim;  it was kindly, and yet Ihere was something iii it which showed that the mild Chinese, wilh hia melancholy eyes, had a good deal of the satirist In   lilm.   His inuh- uers were so  bland aud suave, so sub¬ dued and composed,  that I could hot help  thinking  my   Sau   Franciscan frieud aud myself must have seemed very rough aud  rude  iudeed iu^lils tranquil eyes. '..''',
So wesat and talked for a long time over all manner of subjects. I soou be¬ gan to forget that I waa talking lobne of the detested and despised Mango- liana; and it required an efliirt every now and then to bring myself to re'ctil- lectthatl waa not conversing with 'a refined aud educated gentlemen 'of America or Europe. Of course, wo' all know that many Orientals have a mnr- veloua gift of assuming the externals of Western civilization, aud covering with bland phiuse and thin, gleaming varn¬ ish of uflijcled culture an irremovable, inipenetrahle mass of ignorance, stu¬ pidity, and brutality. But, so far as I could judge by tbia and subsequent coii- versatiou, ranging In at random over a' great variety of aiibjecLs, these two Chinese merchauta were men of braius and education and knowledge. Who could hold their owu iu auy Western society aud were capable of under- standing any subject ot geueral in¬ terest.
When I was leaving, both my friends gave me their autographs in English und Chinese. They wrote English with great quickness; and I wish I could name any Journalist or literary man of my acquainlauce whose haudwriting is half so good. The younger brother labored hard to convice me by frequent wrilten Illustrations that Chineao is better qualified lo be written quickly than English. I kept wondering all the time whether any conceivable course of training and leugth of atudy would enable me to write in Chinese as rapidly as he wrote in English.
I was invited to viait these brothers again ; and did viait them, aud had, as I have remarked, other converaStiona with them. I met and talked with other Chinese tradera in the city, who alao apoke English well, and seemed to have good understanding and knowledge. But my first impressions remained the strongest, and I liked my earliest Chi¬ nese acquaintances the best.'' I think it !is perhapa neceaaary td say thai; neither of theae two was ainong the-ChfneSe' 'party who came eastward'from Sau'
Francisco last suminer; and neither I beljeve, has ever been put forward as a select and prominent representative of his countrymen. They were, so far aa I know; Chinese tea raerohauts In San Francisco, aud nothiug more.
I tqld,my friend, the Irish waiter, that after,.deliberate consideration I, had' come.toithe,conclusion that he and I were not entitled to insist upon tbe ex-, ciualou of the Chinese on the ground of their utter stupidity and invincible ig¬ norance.
COTJNTEY CHIIDEEN.
Lillle fresh violets.
Born lu tho wild wood; Sweetly Illustrating
Innocent ehlldhood; ally as tiie antelope—
lirown as a berry- Free aa tho mountain air.
Romping nnd merry.
Blue eyes and hazel eyes
Peep Irom the edges. Sliaded by sun-bonnets.
Frayed at the hedges ! Up la tho apple trees.
Heedless of danger, Manhood In embryo
btares at the stranger,
Out in tbe hilly patcli.
Seeking the berries- Tinder the orchard tree.
Feasting on cherries- Tramping the elover blooms
Down ^mong the grasses. No voice to lilnder lliem.
Dear lads and lasses!
No grim property- No interdiction ;
Free as the blrdilnga From city restriction 1
Coining the purest blood, Streogtii'mngencii muscle,
Donning health armor 'Gainst life's coming bustle I
Dear little innocents'. . £orn In the wild wood; Oh. tliat all little ones
Had sucli .1 chlldtiood \ God's blue spread over them,
God's green beneath them. No sweeter heritago
Could we beiiueatli them!
LESAL.N0:TICES.
.'BXECCTOBS* NOTICE.
Estate  of  Susanna  Kemper,   lale of
Ephrata township, deceased. X ETTEBSTestamentnryon Raid estat«hav- Jjjtng been granted.to thenndersfKned; all. persons Indebted theretoare requested to make Iinmediate payment, and those bavi ng claims or,.demands against the same will present tbem foi^settleracnt tb the undersigned, re- BldioginfiAld township. I ISK/vKL MELLINOElt,
SAMUEL WOLP. mnrajCtlO E.vcculor.-i.
EXECBTOU'S SOTICE.
Estate of William Brown, late of West ,^^ Earl township, deceased.
LETTEIW testamentary on said estnte hav¬ ing been grauted to the undersigned, all fieraonslndebted thereto are rcfiuesled to make mmedlntesettlGinent.and those havlngclaims or demands against the same will present them witliout delay for settlement to tho un¬ dersigned, residing In said townsliip.
DANIEL O. BUOWN. WILLIAM G. UKOWN, .„-- ™                WAACaHUtK. apl.T li«t 22     E.xeculors.
EXEClITOn.S' NO-nCE.
Estate of Chrisloph Tschopp, late of Warwick township, decea,sed.
LETTEKS teslamcnlai-y on said estate hav¬ ing been granted lo the unJersluned, all persons indelited theretoare reijneslcd to make immedlatesettlemeni,nnd liiosehavlngeiaims ordemaiidsagailisttliesaine will preseiitthem forsettleinent to the undersigned, residing In Manhelm lou-nsliip.
HENBY TSCHOrP, ISAAC UltOW.N'. .ap9C«t21]  Ejcecntors.
ADXIIXINTKATOR-K NOTICE.
Estate of Leonard Snyder, late of Lan¬ caster city, deceased. LETTEBS of administration on said eslate ha¬ ving been granted to the undersigned, nil fiersons Indebted tliereloare requestedto make mmediate payment, and those havlngclalnis or demandsagalnsttliesaine will presentthem wlthoutdelayrorsettieineutlotheundei-sl'gu- ed, residing itt said city,
JlUSfl .S. GARA. mar30 0l201 Adinlulstralor.
FOE THE XITTLE FOLKS. SHINING LIGHTS.
Down deep in the bowelsof the earth, Billy Graves was going along oue of the passages of the mine to iiis place of work, when, by the light of tlie little lamp that was stuck to tbe front of his cap, he saw something wliite, and pick¬ ed it up. It was a leaf from somebody's Testament tliath'ad failed out.
Billy took his lamp from the front of his cap, and by Ils dim light tried to read; but he was a poor reader at best, and kept losing his place. So he stuck Ilia lamp ai;aiiist tbe wall of the pas¬ sage, and tiieii he could keep his big, grimy finger under the word he was spelling out. Oflen working at it for a long time, he made out this from the page:
"The hlood of,Tesus Christ, hia son, cleanselh from all sin."
"Hey"?" said he to himself, "what can Ihat be all about?"
So lie stuck his lamp back on his cap ami wenton till he came tn where he waa to vvork. Biubt by him worked 'Ton.v, and Billy said :
';','l'ony, what d'ye suppose it all meaiiV?" aiid he got out his bit of paper
nd by the help of his Utile lamp, that Tony held so near his nose that it would bave burned it, if ithadu'tbeen asafety lamp, lie read it again ;
¦"The blood of Jesus Christ, his aou, cleanselh from ali sin."
"I don't just know," said Tony ; bul I've heard that same before somewhere, and I don't just know what it may be. I don't mind askiu' the boss ; may be he'll tell." So they laid tbe whole matter before the boss, and all three lamps,l!illy's,and Tony's,and thebcss', were brought to bear on tliepaper; and the,boss, who was a good man told them the sweet slory of Christ.
'rbose two ignorant men, all begrim¬ ed with the dirt of the mine, wept till white streaks came on their faces, aa Ihey heard the "old, old story;" and they learned how to prii.v. So the lit¬ tle lamp in the deplhofthemineshone for them through that little paper, clear onto the bright gales of heaven, thongh it was shiniug so far down in Ihe daik mine.   I
, Caily Euslis ran away from home, and wenttosea, when he wasonly four¬ teen years old; and his poor, liroken- hearted mother always put a tallow dip In the wiudow at night, sn Cally might see it, if he should he comiiig home,aud kuow that his mother was watching for him. Though the poor candle didu't give much lightin tlie room, yet it..shot out rays of liglit far iuto the dark, and many a fisherman, out on the, water, wciuld say:
"It's Goody Eustis's light awaitin' for that boy Cal of hera."
So they would steer hy it, aud feel safe beeause it was there.
Those little raj-s of light, going straight from the wiudow's candle, formed a road on which the briglit- winged fairies brought sweet messages of a motlier'slove to poor, broken-down Cally, wheu, years afterwards, he lean¬ ed over the bow of the brig as It came inlo port.
The little bit of a light was enough to open before tbe miner the glories of the life eternal.
The little bit of a light sent Its rays far out to tell a story of love to the poor weather-beaten tar, and make the salt tears come into his eyes.
So tho liltle influence that you can have, boys, may aeem very sraall, biit it is going to stretch on Into all your lifetime ; and it will go on through the lifetime of some other bny.
The little liglit that helped Luther to study und write, haa illuminated all Germany, and the world. Itwill shine on lor ages. So Christ says to Chris¬ tian people, "Ye are the light of the world." It is as if they were caudles, giving a light.
Now let me tell you how you can be such lighls. 'Taddy Beed swore once; when 1 was a boy,and Charlie Holman, who stood close by him, turned his great; sorry blue eyes on liira, so fuil of surprise, ami tbcir light w-as dimmed a little by some big tears that half filled lliem. Though Charlie didn't say a word, Taddy put out his hand and said:
"Charlie, I'm sorry. You'll never hear me say such a thing again."
Tiiddy is now as old as I am, nnd he has never aworii siuco. The light of Cliarlie's eyes has shone all through Taddy|slife; Ihough now he is so old :w tiy be "Uncle Taddy."
One (lay Goorge Renfrew threw a stiine itt a poor dog that was lyiug, sick aurf''.panting, by the roadside, uud Katie ¦Anilrus said :
"O George, I didn't think you could do a thing so unkind."
Her eyes showed tbo contempt she felt towai'il the boy who could hurt a sick, helpless dog; George uever was tempted afterwards lo do a mean tiling, hut Katie's eyes would seem to be be¬ fore him Justus they were theu. So the llght^of Katie's eyes has shone, all thrnugb George's life.
'rhis-saine dear, little Kalie used tn go apd re^d the Bibleaud sweet hymns to old Graniiy Morris, who was blind, and the good, old wnmoii used to say : "Y^ou let me sec the sweet'promises ofthe Lord by the light eyes, dear Katie."—{Lilac Corjioral.)
An.niXI.>lTRATI>R'H NOTICE.
Estate of  Frauds Brubaker, lale of Strasburg twp., deceaaed.
rETTEtW of aainlnlstration on said eslate J having hGra granled to tho undersigned, nil persons iiKleble'l tbei-eto. are reuu'>stetl to iimKe Imm-^diate seltlemenl. and liur^e having claims or demands agaiust the .same, will pre¬ sent, them williout delay for settlement to tho undersigned, residing in .said townslilp.
SI.MON nuUBAKER. aploOn21 Administrator.
AnMiNm'rKATOR'is sotick.
E.state of John Harry, late of E. Hemp¬ field lownship, deceased. rETrTEK-S of admlnlsti-ation on said estate J having been granled to tlfe undei-signeti, all persons Indebted to Siiid dec-dent are re- ¦ Itiested to make immediate settlemenl, nnd those having claims ordemands against the same will present Iheiil fur selllenienL lolhe undersigned, rcsldiiit; in said tfiwii.shlp.
„,              UENJA.MIN K. LONG, aplU Cl«g1 AdmlnlSLraior.
AOMINIST If TORS' XoriCE.
Estate (if James   P. Bickiiisdii, late of Sallabury township, deceased.
IETTEK.S of adralnisti-allon on i>ai(i estAle jhavlng been granli-d to the (iinlersigned, all personslodebteu tiiereto.arereiiiiesl(si tomake inmedlaleiiayineiit, and those liavliigeisii,.s ordem.andsngaliiKl the -sallie will pi-e.sei'il Miem tor seitlemeut to the uudersigned. resldiug m said township.
JOSEPH HAINFA JOUN M. LdUKiA'SON. npaC*t2I Adiiiiuislralors.
ai;ditor'.s XOTICE.
Estate of CitbaiiiieEiierly, lateof East Cocalico township, dVceased
THE undersUned audiior, appuiiiuil lo dls- trlbule the balance remaining in Ihehands of Ueorge Ubinipanu Peier&we garl, admin¬ istrators, tn ami Miiiong liiose li-gaily eiilllli-d to lbe Slime, will Mil for ihai. purpo eon H-\T- UKDAY. .MAY -111, A. 1) liCO. ai, lUJ^ ..'clock, a. 111., Ill the Library Kooin of llie CourtHouse, in the city of Lancaster, Pa., wliere ail per¬ .sons Interesled lu said distribution rany at¬ tend. J. G. GAUMAN, aplC4t22 Auditor.
AUDITOR'S XOTICB.
Estate of James Purcell, late of Man¬ heim twp., Lanc'r co., deceased. THE undersigned andilor, appointed by the .OfohHua' Courtof Lancastercounty, Pa., to distribute the balance remaining in the hands ofa. H. Keyuolds and Jamea T. uunn. admlu¬ islralors, de bonis noti,oi said dccea-.ed, lound among those legiiily enlllied to lii.-s.tiiie. ulll attend for that lairpose on 1UE.--D-\y, Jl.AV lUth, ISiit.itt '2 o'clock, p. in.. In the Library Roomof Ihe Conrt House, in the Clly of Lan¬ ca-ster, Pa., where all persons interested lu said dlstribuLlon may atlend.
W. A. WILSON, aprl3<it'-'2 Auillior.
AUDITORS' NOTICE.
Estate of Kev.  Daniel  Hertz, late of Ephrata twp., deceased
THE underslened au.lilon, appointed to pass upou exceptions Hied to the acconnt of Edwin Konigmaeher and Curtis Fry, execu¬ tors of Ihe will ofsaid decedent; also, loaaccr- taln Iho debts dne by the estale, and how far said debls are good agninst llie claim of tbo widow, and tomake dislrlbulion of the bal¬ ance, if any. In the hands of said executors, will sit for tile purposes of their appoiutiucnt, on WEDNESDAY, M.W 11.1.s7l). el ll o'elocl;; a. m.. In the Library llooin ot the Court House, lu the Cily of Lai caster, when aud where all persous Interested ma.v attend.
A.MU.S SLAYJIAKER, GEdllGK .M.KLINE, GEOKOE NAUllAN, nprlU tt22 -' AUdllora.
AVDI'TOR-S NOTICE.
Estate  of Sarah  'Vogau, late of Earl township, deceased.
THE nnderslgned Andltor, appointed to dis¬ tribute the balance remaining In the hands of Ezra Burkholder, e.«q., trustee, ap¬ pointed ny the Orphans* Court of Lancasler county, losell reul eslato of said decea-.eil. to and umong tiiose legally entiiled to llie same will sit for that purpose on TUESDAY, May 10lh,IS70, at lOo'clock, a. in.. In the Library Room of the Court House, In Iho city of Lan¬ caster, where all persous Interesled In said distribution mny nttend.
Lanc'r, liar. 2ad, ISTO.       C. S. UOFFM.AN.
mar-iiiitlO Audiior.-
AS.SICNEE.S' NOTICE.
Assigned Eslale of Rudolph A. Frey
uud Wife, of Mauor lowuship,
Lancaster Couuly.
RUDOLPH A. FBKY i Wife, i.f Manor twp., having by deed of voluntary as^igntiient, dated the Ittli dav of April, ltf;0; assigned and Irunsfrrred all their esuitb und eCecls to the undersigned, for llie bcnedl of the creditors of the said Hudolpli A.Frey, Ihey therefore glvo notice to all nersons indebted to said assignor lo mal;e payment to the undersigned wlUiout delay,uud thoso iiaving claims to preseni llietn to                                        JACOli F. FIIEY, ' Residing In Lanititsier tou-nsiiip, JOIt.N' SLEEGKU, Itcsiding iu Mauor loirnshlp, apis gt 2J ^ AjiSiguee^.
:    ASSIGNEE'S NOTICE.
Aaaigned eatuie of Jiwob Wissler, of Mauor twp., Lancasler county.
JACOB WIS.=!LBR, of Manor township, hav¬ ing by deed of volnntiiry assign menl. ditii-il April Iith. 1S70. assigned and liaiislerredall his cslAte and elTeels to Ihe nnderslgned. for tho lienelit oflhe creditors uf the said Jacob w tss- . ler, he therelore gives nolle,; to all per.-.oiis ludebted losa^d assignor, to make payment Io the undersigned without dela.v, and Ihosu havlngclalnis to present liieiii to
P. W. H1E.-;'1.\.ND. Asslenee, . aprl.1 (it22 liesidiiig in .Milleri.vil;e.
AS'ilV.'tEE'.S .\Ori<'E.
Assigned Estate ol Jaine.s Carroll and
Sarah his wife, of Maritf tnwiiship,
Lancaster county.
TAME.S CAUlt-.Ll- aiid .-.^v..,kLl. his wife, Iiaving liy d,-ed of volnntiiry iis-lgnm.-ni. diitt-d till-Slh dnyof Apt 11. A. l>. l>7ti. s^lgni-.l ,inl traii-ferreil all their i-i-uile and eU'eis to ilieniidi-rslj-'iieil. tor iliebentlitoi tlieei-nill'.rs ofthe said .luinesCanoil. lie ilierif-i.t! gives Iioliee loall ii.r.-,oil» iiid.-lileo lo.saitl assignor, lo make luiytneiit to tlie uii(lersieii.-a wili.otit • ti-lay, aail lllo.-.e having eii.liiis to iire»'iit lliem properly nulllentiej.led Iiirs(*Ul'-aient to
Jllll.N srKOll.M,.Slt.. MSsiglic.-. Uesldiiig ill Priivideu.-e lou-ti.ibl[>. near M--ir- llnsvllle. P. O.       api-lSlllJh!
A Quaker's Letter to his Watcii- .M.VKER.—I herewith send thee my [locket clock, wliich standeth in need .>f thy friendly correction. The last time he waa at tliy friendly scliool, he was in no way reformed nor in tlie leaat benefited thereby; for I perceive by the index of his miud that lie is a liar aud the trulh isnothim ; thathlspulse is sometimes slow, which betokeueth not an even temper; at other tinies it waxeth sluggish, iiotwithstandiug I frequently urge him ; wheu he should .be on hia duty, as thou knoweth his hand denoteth, I fiud him slumbering, or, as the vanity of human reason phrases it, I catch him napping. Ex¬ amine him, therefore, and prove him. It grieves me lo think, and when I ])oiider therein I am verily of the opin¬ ion that his body is foul, aud the whole masa is corrupted. Cleanse him, there¬ fore, with thy charming physic, from all pollution, that he may vibrate and circulate accordiug to the truth. I will place him for a few days under thy care, and pay for his board as thou re- quireat. 1 entreat thee, friend Johu, u> demean thyself ou this occasion with judgment, according to the gift which Is in thee, and prove thyself a workman; nnd when thou lay est thy correcting hand upon him let it be without passion, lest thou shouldst drive him. to destruction. Do thou reg¬ ulate his motion for a timo to come by the motion of the light that ruleth the day; and when thou findest him con¬ verted from the error of his ways, aud more conformable to the above men¬ tioued rulea, then Ao thou send hira home with ji juat bill of chargea drawn :out iu'th'6 spirit of moderation, and it jshall be sent to thee in the root of all ¦evil,)
A.S.SI«.^'KM*N .%'<*TI<'E
Assigned Kstate of U.uiei K. Frey nud Wile, of Manor townshiii, Lancasler county.
D.ANIEL IC. FREY' nnd ADELINE K . Yi: wife, of Msnur twp.. .liiivliig i.y need of v..lunlary ussigniueni. dat«il  Ihe 4ili day of April, IS7II. assigned an.1 Iransffrrrert all llieir c-ttute and eUects lo the iin.leislgn .1, fori llo iieneflt  of the creditors of Ihe s-iidD iniei K. Frey; be tuer-fore gives notice to ull persous indebted lo the said assignor, lo inaitu pay¬ ment to the undersigned withont delay, and those having claims to present tnem to JOUN BLtEGEK, .\sslgn.e. Ulalivlliu P. O.. aprfifi'tCiJ Lancaslereouni.v, I'a.  .
AKNIO.VEES' N<ITICK.
Assigned i-Jslate of John Sener and wife, of Pequea township, Lan¬ casler eount.v. TOHN SENER and wlfe.of Peqnen township, iiaving by deetl ol volunliii.v as.-.ianmeiil, iialeil .M..rcli 111', l.-^'ii. a-i.lglieil ami Ir;.n-*- ferred all tlicir ei';ate and ettecLs to the under¬ signeii. for the benelltof the creditors of llie said John Uetier, they Ihcref.re g*vo Dotico lo all persons Indebted to said asiignor. lo mnke piiym*-nt to the undersigned without delay, and those having claims to prascnl llieirt 10 I!E.VJA.MIN O. OEIZ,
Residing in Mounlville, Lan. Co.,
WILLIAM Mc.MUlLIN. Residing In umlthvlllo, Lan eo.. aprii li't 'Jll Assignees.
ASSIGNEE'S NOTICE.
Assigned Estate of BaChman, Stoner it Herr, Lancasler citv, Lanc'r co.
BACHMAN.STONER&flEKR,of Lancaster city, having by deed of voluntary leeilgn- menl, anted March L'2(l. LsTO. asi-lgneil and ironsferreil alltheiresuile aii.l elTects to llio undersigned, for Ihe beiu-dt of lbe creditors of thesald Baehman.KtoneriK Ilerr. ho thereforo gives notice to all persons ludebted lo said assignors, to make payment to llie nndeislgn- ed without delay, and those having elalms to present them lo
H. K. STOSEn. Assignee, at the law olilpe olAbrain Simula. Kasi King street, opposite the Courl House, tin tho Isl day of   Aiirll, and on Mondny and Salnrday of overy week. mar-JS (it 13
AS.SICNEE'S NOTICE.
Assigned  Estate of Frederick  Sener ' and wife, of Manor townahip, Lan¬ caster county.
FREDERICK SENER and ANNA, his wife, of.Manor twp., having by deed of voluii- tary assignment, dated the 2d day of Match. A. D. ItfiO, assigned nnd transferred all their estale and elTects to the undersigned, for Iho benefit of tho creditors of lbe said Frederick Sener, he therefore gives notice to all persons indebted to said assignor, to make pityiiiunt to,the undersigned without dehiy, nud those having claims to present them to
HENRY- BAUMGAHDNEB, Assignfo. mariti G*II8J       Kesldiug in Lancaster cily.
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