O ;
Caticft
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VOLIMI.
LANCASTER. PA. WEDNESDAY JULY 8, 1868.
NO. 34
JGXAfflXS^iB & HEBAI.»-
PDBIilSHED EVEBS 'WEDiraSDAT. At Ko. 4 Nattli ftaean Street, Laaoaatur, Pa
TER3I5—9S.00 A YF.A.R I>' AOVANCE,
JXO. A. HIiiSTASD A E. M. KLINE, Editors nnd Proprietors.
IT ISH'I ALL in BHIHQIHO TTP-
It Isn't all in " bringing op,"
Let folks say what they will! To silver scour a pewter cup—
It will be pewter still. E'en of wise old Solomon,
Who said " train up a child," If I mistake not, had a son.
Proved rattle-brained and wild ! A man of mark, who fane would pass
For lord of sea and land. May have the training of a son.
And brln^ him up full grand; May give him all the wealth of lore.
Of college and of school. But aner all may make no more
Than just a decent fool. Another, raised by penurj-
Upon her bitter bread, ¦\Vhose road to knowledge Is like that
The good to heaven may tread. Life's got a spark of nature's light.
He'll tan it to a flame. Till In Its burning letters bright.
The world may read his name.
If it were all In " bringing up,"
In council and restraint. Such rascals had been honest men—
I'd be myself a saint. Oh! It Isu'tall in " bringing up,"
Let folks F.ay what they will! Nei^leet may dim the silver cup—
il will be sUver still.
A VISIT TO If AZAEETH.
NAZAiiiiTH, March 12, ISCS.
APPK.iKANCE OP THE TOWN.
Tlie scenery around the town of Ifaz- ff areth is very much like tlmtto be rounil in Vermont—roundeti hills, narrow val¬ leys, limestone rock.'i, sunny sloiies, patches of green lielda ami verdant jiastnres. Yon do not see the sugar maple crowning the hill tops, nor the graceful elm in the hollows, but the dark gieen of the olive, aud the spread¬ ing brandies of the llg trees, instead. You travel on liorsebaek, along winil- iiig paths, instead of rolling in buggies over country carriage roads. There are no cottages or farm houses, with great barns and hay stacks, along the way; no bustling towns, no click and clatter of factory machinery. Traveling from the plain of Esdraelon, climbing the hills just as we might go np from the meadows along the Connecticut, a ride of four miles brings us to a hollow among the hills. We look down into it and have a view of the town west of n.", ou a sunnj' sloiie of a hill, which rises fouror five hundred feet .above the town. Tlie Jlat roofed stone houses are nestled on the hillsidejustasthedwel- llngs are in many a New England vil¬ lage. Uanisli from your mind any other resemblance. There are no wide streets, no front j-ards tilled with roses and lilacs, no trim cottages with green ^blinds, but stone walls, wilh holes for windows, Jieaps of mud and manure around the dooi-s. At the bottom of the hollow are old olive trees, garden walls and hedges of prickly pear. East of the town, at the foot of the hill, is a fountain, pouring out copious streams of water through a marble slab. We pitch our tent within a stone's throw of the fountain, close by the grove of old olive, the limestone hedges crop¬ ping out along the hill side behind us, giving shelter from the cold winds sweeping down from the north.
THE FOUXTAIX.
The fountain is the only public re¬ sort of the town. Here the w6men aud girls lill their water-jars, chat together, talk over the news, balance their jars upon the crown of the head, and walk back to their homes. Here they pound the dirt from their clothes upon the rocUs ; they have no scrubbing-boards, no patent washing-machine.s, or clothes wringers, neither wash-tubs. Tlie brook below the fountain is the public wash¬ ing-place—the place, also, where the horses, donkeys, sheej) and goats of the town slake their thirst.
There is no pleasanter village in Pal¬ estine, none where the people are more kiud and courteous, none where the maidens are more beautiful; not such ,a beauty as you And in the West, but as widely separated from the common typo among tlie Arabs as the JIadonna of Raphael is from our conception of the witches of Mid-summer IS^ight's Dream. Tlie population is Christian. Very pleasant it is to liear the tolliug of the churcli bell for vespers falling on the evening air. And now let me ask your readers to climb the hillside with me, the hill north of the town, that we may have an hour for quiet relleetion.
VIEW HY MOOXLIGIIT.
It is evening, and the sights aud sounds of day are fading ou the eye anil ear. The moon is approaching the full, and throws a flood of light upon the hills. There are drifting clouds in the sky overhead. In tue north there is a dark thunder cloud—vivid flashes of lightning playing round Lebanon and Hermon. East of us is the round¬ ed light of Tabor, and btyond, over the .Jordan Valley, light, fleecy clouds, lined with silver .and edged with gold, hovering in mid air as the cherubim and seraphim once hovered over the hillsof Bethlehem. We look across the plain of Esdraelon in the south and be- , hold Little Herman and Gilboa, while far away through the haze we trace dimly the outlines of Ebal aud Geri- zini; westward, clearer and more dis¬ tinct, is Mount Carmel. We hear the tinkling of bells in the .sheepfolds, the barking of dogs, the howl of jackalls o'n the liills and the deep thunder far away. From the vale below us ascend the voices of our own muleteers, sing¬ ing around their camp-Ures. We be- holil our own white tents and those of an English party just arrived. The place, the scene, the hour, alike are soothing to body and soul, and we fuel the appropriateness of the words : *' Here In the body pent.
Absent—afar I roatn, lint nl«htly pitch my moving tent,
A day's march ne:irer home."
With such calming influences around us, we forget llie present and go back ISOS yeara to behold Nazareth as it was at that time-^a vale as peaceful then as now—an insignificant town, so small that the people of other towns spoke of it contemptuously, just as we some¬ times speak of Slab City and Hard Scrabble. No great public thorough- ' fares led through the place. There was a Boniaii road down the sea-coast, aud anothor from the sea-coast through Se- pharis in the valley five or six miles norlli, e.Ktending eastward to the sea of Oalilee; so the tides of travel aud oominerce flowed past Nazareth, leav¬ ing it a smidl village, among the hills, withoutahistory.
TUB PAllE.NTS OP .IE3U3.
Among the inhabitanis we see the carpenter Josepli, using the axe, and saw, the plane and the chisel, laying wooden beams for the roofs of houses, making tables and stools; and among tile maidens who Jill their jars at tlie fountain is one named ilary, betrotlied to the carpenter. She is low in station, though she lists royal blood iu hor veins. Throngh all the centuries since, painlers have thought of her :is an ideal of perfect loveliness, purity, and truth. It i.s not fancy or fiction. Such a girl lived here, walked along these paths, breathed the fragrance of the flowers blooming in the garden, pluck¬ ed the lily of the valley, perhaps, to adorn her hair, and strolled with lier males beneath the olives.
JE.SU.S AS A CHILD.
f But not as the placeof tbeAimuncia-
tion—not as tho home of Mary, do we think of Nazareth—but as the cbildhood and manhood home of Jesus Christ. We think of him as lying in Mary's arms, a child of adorable beauty. T'he mother's baud leads him, as she comes to the fountain to till her pitcher. He
Elashes his fei!t in the running stream, ears the sparrows chirp, aud the hum of the bees, and gathers the scarlet and purple anemones. His childhood is like our own. He has his play-hours, rambles over theso hills, becomes ac- <iuaiuted with every locality. As the boys of America knoweveryacrearound their homes, each towering rock, each nook, each brook aud tree, so he became acquainted with the places arouud this, his boyhood home.
The father and motlier have stories for him, as our parents have for us; of his ancestry; how Abraham, the father of the nation, came down from the dis¬ tant north and stopped at Shechem. From this hilltop they perchance point out to him Mount Ebal and Mount Gerizim, and the valley between thom where the patriarch first pitched his tent. They tell him the story of Jo
history of our own country—of Wash¬ ington and Franklin and their compa¬ triots, so he heard of Moses, Joshua, the first great leaders of Israel. From this hill ne sees the battle grou nd where Barak defeated Sisera, and where Gid¬ eon, -with his three hundred, put the multitude of Midianites to flight. Be¬ yond that field he beholds the rugged mountain of Gilboe, where Saul and Jonathan were slain. On theSabbath, in the synagogue, he chants with all the congregation the grand elegy writ¬ ten by his ancestor, David, ou the oc¬ casion of their death:
"The beauty of Israel Is slain oA" the high places. How are tlie mlgHty fallen!"
Familiar to him is the life of the Prophet Elijah. We fancy Joseph com¬ ing up liere with the child and with extended arm pointing to Carmel, the scene of sacrifice, where fire came down from Heaven and consumed the proph¬ ets of Baal. We cannot quite see the village of Shunen, where Elisha raised the widow's son, for it is round the point of Little Hermon.
HIS nOYlIOOl).
We see him when twelve years old going with his parents, their neighbors and eompaniona from surrounding vil¬ lages, to Jerusalem, in the month of March, to keep the great national fes¬ tival—the Fourth of July and Thanks¬ giving day in one—eoinincinorative of the deliverance of the nation from sla¬ very. The flowers are blooming on the hills—the scarlet and purple anemones, the violets, iris, lilies and phloxes. The festival over, liis parents begin their lionieward journey, but the child re¬ mains, enters the temple, and gravely questions the grey-bearded aud venera¬ ble men who have devoted their lives to profound study. Strange his words when reprimanded by his mother for having stayed behind. He must be about his Father's busine.ss! Hisfatlier was a carpenter ami he was to follow the same occupation, lu the Museum at Naples we see from the exhumations of Pompeii, how rude mu.st have been the iinplenients of his craft.
.\ JIKCHAXIC.
He becomes a mechanic, labors as many a mechanic who may read these lines labors—working from morning till night-lyingdown weary when the work of the day is done. Dnring ten of manhood's years this is his occupa¬ tion. He is inured to toil. In the prime of life we see him laying asitle the saw and plane, and taking a jour¬ ney eastwaril, to the river Jortlau, wliere his cousin John is baptizing those who have resolved to lead a new life. He goes not to repent of any evil way, but to be consccraluil to a new work.
THE KOUXDEK (IP A KISODOJt.
He purposes to found an empire I He is not learned, but he goes to become a. teacher. He walks uji the path which leads across the ridge eastof us, bent on such an nndertalving. What in all human probability will be the result of his cflbrf? He is poor—has very.little if any money, is unknown except to his fellow townsmen. He liails from a place which is iield in contoinpt all the country round. Home rules the nation. Her legions aro traminug overall these hills; they garrison every town. Tur¬ bulent spirits are ripe for revolt. They will spring to arms wlien a great leader appears, and expect a deliverer. But tills mechanic purposes to rear his tlirone as no other throne ever was reareii-on love. Love! Who will fol¬ low such a leader'.' Who will rally round his standard? Position, place, power, money, honor, distinction, bribes, ambition—these are motions which govern men. Fathom human love, measure all its capabilities, the love which one man has for another, and wh.at will be the probable result?
He returns from the Jordan and the wilderness to his home. We see him in the synagogue on the Sabbatli, read¬ ing from the prophesy of Isaiah, say¬ ing "To-day this is fulfilled." The people are amazed. This is the carpen¬ ter's son! Whence his learning? Shall one so low as he be their teacher? They rise in anger and thrust him violently out of the synagogue, with the inten¬ tion of throwing him headlong down one of the ledges of this hillside. His own townsmen reject liim. A poor be- ginuing of a kingdom, this. Human eyes can iliscover uo prospect of suc¬ cess.
Nazareth is no longer his home. He goes to Capernaum, on the shores of the lakes, reposing among the hills a few liours' ride east of us. He begins his kingdom there by a.sking two fisher¬ men, as poor as himself, to become his followers. He begins to trade, but was there ever a teacher—everapliilosopher who put forth sueh doctrines? His in¬ structions are contrary to the teachings of the most learned men of tlie nation. He become a physician, goes iuto the towns ;md villages usingsuch remedies as no other physician can use—putting clay on the eyes of a blind man—tell¬ ing another to wash hiiuself—thus re¬ storing their .sight. .\n ollicer of the Roman army has a little d.iughter dead; he takes her by the hand and brings lier to life. The fevered, the lame, the leprous—all alHieted with ilisease come and are healed. He has power even over the forces of nature, but he never uses it for selfish ends.
He informs his followers that tliey must have a new moral creation. Wliat
A KIND HEART EEWABDED.
other founder ofa kingdom ever began with such an idea ? 'There is caste in tho nation : society has its classes ami sects, and thero are bitter animosities. There are great families who have wealth and power. He is of the lowest class, and lie pimders to no one—culti¬ vates 110 courtly friendship. He goes to Jerusalem—a carpenter, a Nazarene, he has no authority—yet he enters the temple, clears it of its money-cliangers and dove-sellers, as if he were the chief priest or the heatl of the Sanhedrim. iMost ,'men having gained power, lay plans to retain it; but he leaves the temple, goes back to Capernaum alone, or atteuded only by the poor fishermen. Men say that he is crazy, a drunkard, a glutton. He travels over the country as a physician and a teacher—some people believing that he isa good man, others declaring he is a deceiver. He has a warm heart and quick sympa¬ thies—weeijiiig at otliers' woes, never for his own. His friendships are among the poor. Other men make mistakes, but himself never. He indulges in no vain regrets.
Three years pass. He goes to Jerus.i- 1am, is seized by those whom he Ima not injured; all of his followers forsake him when he most needs them. He is innocent of crime, hut is publicly e.xe- cuted as a criminal—aud dies an ignomi¬ nious death. To all human apiiearance his kingdom is at an end.
THE 1'ROGnE.SSION OP THB KINGDOM.
Eighteen centuries have goue by since then, and his kingdom has been in¬ creasing the while. Itis diverse from all others in that it advances by love alone, never by the sword. He is the mystery of tlie ages. We i-e-call at this point the words of a man wlio has been accounted great at rearing and tearing down thrones—the words of Napoleon to Bertrand at St. Helena.
" I know them," said the dethroned monarch, "and I tell vou that Jesus Christ was not a man. liis birth, the history of his life, the profoundity of his doctrines, his gospel, hia oppositiou, his empire, his march across the ages and the realms—everythini; to ine is u mystery. Here I see nothing human. Christ proved that he was the son of the Eternal by his disregard of time. All his doctrines are one and the same thing-Eteruily."
The chained axile contrasts thegreat men of tlieagcs-Alexander, Ciesarand himself also, with the mechanic of this obscure town, mournlully iamentiinr his own bitter fate. He asks " Who will now die for me?" But men and women and children even through all the centuries have died for him who laiddown hisax and plane and went out of this village past yonder moun¬ tain to consecrate himself to the work of rearing a moral realm. They have given up their lives in exile, in dun¬ geons, on the scaUlild ; they have been torn limb from limb by savage beasts, cast headlong from rocky heights, en¬ dured all tortures rather than adjure their faith in Jesus Clirist, who said he was the Son of God. He cither was or was not what he claimed to be. Ac¬ cepting the claim we can understand why this kingdom, fouuded on love alone, continues and thrives, while all other kingdoms have their periods of growth aud decay. Rejeetiiigthe claim, esteeming him to be only a man, and his life, his death, and what has grown out of it, is the darkest, deepest, most
seph and show hlmthehillof Dotbam, ,!„'"' l„„"fhu ™t.of' ""^T ,i *¦ '*'
across the plain of Esdraelon, where Incomprebensibls mystery of all time,
the Midianites took him from his cruel ^^'^^ ^'"" expIainit?-£o«(o« Journal.
brethren to be a slave in Egypt, and In the voyage of life we should Imi-
7^?hit;"n^rnt:f,,!«'"^ra°w.r?^T HV^e auo^ieut marineis, who, with-
ful than any romance. As we listen to out losine sisht of the earth ttiisted tn the stories of our parents of the early | the heayfn^fsig^ fo^tW guXnc^
Knowing that many readers are more interested in tales fouuded upon facts than fiction, we give the following sketch, which, although rivaling many of those romanticpiotures drawn by fic¬ tion writers, is vouched for by an old English journal as being founded ujion a real life occurrence, and merely pol¬ ished by the pen of the writer. The newiy-married couple had just come from the altar, and were about starting on a bridal tour as the following con¬ versation took place:
The newly-married husband took one of his bride's hands in his own. "Al¬ low me," said he, " thus to hold your hand ; for I dread lest you should quit 1110. I tremble lest this should be an illusion. It seems to me that I am the hero of one of those fairy tales which amused my boyhood, and in which in the hour of happiness some malignant fairy steps ever in to tlirow the victim into grief and dispair."
" Reassure yourself, my dear Freder¬ ick," said the lady; " I was yesterday the widow of Sir James Melton, aud to¬ day I am Madame de la Tour, j;our wife. Banish from your mind the idea of the fairy. This is not a fiction, but history."
Frederick de la Tour had indeed some reason to suppose thathis fortunes were the work ot a fairy's wand; for, in tlic course of one or two short months, by a seemingly inexplicable stroke of for¬ tune, he hiul been raised to happiness and wealth, beyond his desires. A friendless orphan, twenty-fiveyearsold, he-had been the holder of a clerkship which brouglithim a scanty livelihood, when, oue day, he passed along the Rue St. Uonore, a rich equipage stopped suddenly before him, and a young and elegant woman called from it to him. " Monsieur, Monsieur," said she.
At tlie same time on a given signal, the footman leaped down, opened the carriage door, and invited Frederick to enter. He did so, though with some hesitation and surprise, tind the car¬ riage started oil' at full speed.
" I have received your note, sir," said the lady to M. de la Tour, in a very soft and sweet voice; and insiiiteof refusal, I hope yet to see you to-morrow evening at my party."
" To see me! JNIadamc ?" cried Fred¬ erick.
" Y''es, sir, you . Ah 1 a thousand
pardons," contiuuedshe, with an airof confusion. " I see my mistake. For¬ give mc, sir; you are so like a particu¬ lar friend! What can you think of mc? Y'et the resemblance is so strik¬ ing tliat it would have deceived any one."
Of course Frederick replied politely to these apologies.
Just as they were terminated, the carriage stopped at tlio door ofa splen¬ did mansion, and the young man could do no more than ofler his arm to Lady Melton, as the fair stranger announced herself lo be. Though English in name, the fair lady, nevertheless, was evi¬ dently of French origin. Her extreme beauty charmed M. de la Tour, and he congratulated himself upon the happy accident which had gained him sueh an acquaiutaueo. Lady Melton loaded liim with civilities, and he received and accepted an invitation for the party spoken of. Invitations to other parties followed; aud, to be brief, the young man soon found himself an estfiblislied visitant at the house of Lady Melton. She, a rich and beautiful widow, was encircled witli admirers.
One by one, they disappeared, giving way to the poor clerk, who seemed to engross the lady's whole thoughts. Finally, almost by her own asking, they were betrothed. Frederick used to look sometimes at the glass which hung in his humble lodging, and won¬ der to what circumstance he owed his happy fortune. He was not ill-looking, certainly, but he liad not tlie vanity to think Ills appearance magnificent; and his plain and scanty wardrobe prevent¬ ed him from doing credit to his tailor. He used to conclude his meditations by the reflection that a-ssuredly the lovely widow was fulfiliug some unavoidable award of destiny. -As for his own feel¬ ings, the lady was lovely, young, rich, accomplished, anil noted for her sensi¬ bility and virtue—could be hesitate?
When the marriage contract was signed his astonishment was redoubled, for he fouml himself through the lady's love, the virtual possessorof large prop¬ erty, both in England and France. The presence of friends had certified and sanctioned the union, yet, as has been stated, Frederick felt some strange fears, in spite of himself, lest it should prove an illusion, and lie grasped his bride's hand, as if to [irevent her being spirited away from liis view.
" My dear Frederick," said the lady, smilingly, " sit down be.sideme tind let mc say something to you."
The young husband obeyed, but he did not quit her hand. She began, '¦ Onco ou a time"—^Frederick stjirted, and halt seriously exclaimed, "Heav¬ ens! it is a fairy tale!" "Listen to me, foolish boy," resumed the lady. "There was once a young girl, the daughter of parents wellborn, and at one time rich, but who iLid declined sadly in circum¬ stances. Until her fifteenth year the family lived in Lyons, depending en¬ tirely for subsistence upon the labor of her father. Some better hope sprung up and induced tliem to come to Paris ; but it is dillicult lo stop in the descent down the jiatli of misfortune. For three years the fiither struggled hard against poverty, Jjut at last (lied in an hospital.
" Tlie mother soon followed, and the young girl was left alone, the occupant of a garret of which the rent was not paid. If there were any fairy connect¬ ed with the story this was the moment for her appearance; but none came. The young girl remained alone, with¬ out friends or protectors, harrassed by debts wliich she could not pay, and seeking in vain for .some species of em¬ ployment. She found none. Still it was necessary for her to have food. One day passed, on which she tasted notli- ing. Thenight tliat followed was sleep¬ less. Next day was again passed with¬ out food, and the poor girl was forced into the resolution of begging.
" She covered her head Willi her mo¬ ther's veil, the only heritage she had received, and stooping so as to simulate age, she went out into the street. When, there, she held out her hand : Alas, the hand was white and youthful and delicate! Thus concealed, the poor girl held out lier hand to a young wo¬ man who passed^onc more happy than herself, and asked, ' a sou—a singlesou to get bread?' The pelition was un- heeded. An old man passed. The mendicant tliought that the experience of tlie distresses of life might have soft¬ ened one lilte hiui, but site was in error. Experience liad only hardened, not softened, his heart.
"The night was cold and raiuy, and the hour had come when the iiiKlit po¬ lice appeared to keep the street clear of all mendieauts and suspicious charac¬ ters. At this period the shrinking girl took courage once more to hol(l out her hand to a passer by. It was a young mj^n. He stopped at the silent appeal, and, diving into his pockets, pulled out a piece of money, which he threw to her, beiug apparently afraid to touch a thing so miserable. Just as he did this, the police said to tlie girl:
•' Ah, I have caught you, have I?— you are bogging. To the oflice with you! Come along!"
"The young man interposed. He took hold hastily of tlie mendicant, of her whom he had before seemed to be afraid to touch, aud addressing himself to the policeman, said reprovingly :— ' riiis woman is not a beggar. No ; she is—she is one whoiu I know.' ' But, sir,' said the officer—' I tell you that she is an acquaintance of mine,' repeated the young stranger. Then turning to the girl, whom betook for an old and feeble woman, he continued:
"'Come along, my good dame, and permit me to see you safely to the end of this street.' Giving his arm to the unfortunate girl, he then led heraway, saying. Here is a piece of a hundreci sous. It is all I have—take it, poor wo¬ man.'
" The crown of a hundred sous p.assed from your baud iuto mine," continued the lady, " aud as you walked along supporting my steps, I then, through my veil, distinctly saw your face and figure"—
"My figure!'' said Frederick, in amazement.
"Yes, my friend, your figure," re¬ turned his wife. "It was tome that you gave alms on that night. It was my life—my honor, perhaps, tliat you saved."
" You a mendicant,—you, so young, so beautiful, and now so ricli," cried Frederick.
On the day folowlng that miserable night, an old woman In whom I bad in¬ spired some sentiments of pity enabled me to enter as seamstress in a respecta¬ ble house. Cheerfulness returned tome with labor. I had the good fortune to become a favorite with the mistress whom I served, and indeed I did my best, by unwearied diligence and care, to merit her favor. She was often vis¬ ited by people in liigh life. One day Sir James Melton, an Englishman of great property, came to the establish¬ ment along with a party of ladies. He returned again. He spoke with my mistress, and learned that I wns of good family ; in short, learned luy whole his¬ tory. 'I'he result was that one day he sat down b^* my side and asked ine plainly if I woubl marry him.
"'Marry yon!' cried I, in surprise.
"Sir James Melton wasaman ofsix- ty, tall, pale and feeble looking. In answer to my exclamation of astonisli- ment, he said, 'Yes, I ask if you will be my wife. I am rich, but havo no comfort—no hai)piness. My relatives seem to yearn to see me in the grave. I have ailments which require a degree of kindly care, that is not to be bought from servants. I have heard your story, and believe you to beone who will sup¬ port prosperity as well as you have ad¬ versity. 1 make my proposal sincerely, and hope that you agree to it."
" At that time, Frederick," contin¬ ued the lady, " I loved you ; I had seen you but ouce, and that once was too memorable for me to forget it, and some¬ thing always insinuated to me tliat we were destined to pass through life to¬ gether. At the bottom of my soul I be¬ lieved this. Yet every oue around me jiressed metoacc^tof the ofi'er made to me, and the thouglit struck me that I might one day malce you wealthy. -\t length my main objection to Sir .Fames Melton's proposal lay iu a disin¬ clination to make myslf the instrument ofvengeancein Sir James'hands against relatives whom he might dislike with¬ out good grounds. The objection, when stated, only increased his anxiety for my consent, and finally under the im- liression that it would be, after all, car¬ rying romance the length of folly to re¬ ject the advantageous settlement ofler- ed to me, I consented to Sir James' proposal. This part of the story, Fred¬ erick, is really lilto a fairy tale. I, a poor orphan, penniless, became the wife of one of the richest baronets of England. Dressed In silks, aud spark¬ ling with jewels, I could now pass in my carriage through the very streets wliere a few months before I had stood iu the rain and darkness—a mcudi cant!"
" Happy Sir James I" cried M. de la Tour, at this part of the story; " he could prove his love by enriching you."
" He w^as happj'," resumed the lady. "Our marriage, so strangely assorted, proved much more conducive, it is prob¬ able, to his own comfort than if he had wedded one with whom all the parade of settlements, of pin money, woulil have been necessary. Never, 1 believe did lie for an instant repent of our un¬ ion. I, on my part, conceived myself bound to do my best for the solace of his declining years; and he, on his part, thought it incumbent on him to pro¬ vide lor my future welfare. He died, leaving mo a large part of Iiis substance —as mucli, indeed, iM I could prevail on myself to accept. I was now a wid¬ ow, and from the hour I became so, I vowed never again to give my hand to man, excepting him wlio had succored mo in my hour of distress, and whose remembrance had ever been preserved in the recess of my heart. 13ut how to discover that man? Ah, unconscious ingrate! to make no endeavor to come in the way of one who sought to love and enrich you! I know not your name. In vain I looked for you at balls, assemblies and theatres. Y'ou went not there. Ah, how I longed to meet you!"
As the lady spoke she took from her neck a ribband to which was attached a piece of a hundred sous. " It' Is the same—the very same which you gave me," said she, jiresenting it to Freder¬ ick; " by. pleilging it to a neighbor I got a little bread, aud I earned enough afterward in time to permit me to re¬ cover it. I vowed never to part with it.
"Ah, how happy I was, Frederick, when 1 saw you in the street! The ex¬ cuse which I made for stopping .vou was the first that rose to mind. But what tremors I felt afterward, lest you should have been already married! In that case you should never have heard aught of this fairy tale, though I would have taken some means to serve aud enrich you. I would have gone to Eng¬ land and there spent my days, in re¬ gret, perhaps, but still in peace. But happily it was to bo otherwise. Y'on were single."
Frederick de la Tour was now awak¬ ened, as it were, to the full capacity of his happiness. What he could not be¬ fore look upon hut as a sort of freak proved lo oe the result of deep and kindly feeling, most honorable to her who entertained it. The heart of the young husband overflowed with grati¬ tude and aSection to the lovely and no- blehearted being who had given herself to him. He was too happy for some nioiuents to speak. His wife first broke the sileuce.
" So, Frederick," said she gaily,
" you see that if I am a fairy, it is you who have given me tho wand—the tal¬ isman—that has efl'ected all!"
MAEEIAQE TJlfDEE DIFFI- CTTITIES.
OLDEN TIMES.
"Yes, my dearest husband," replied the lady, " I have in my life received alms—once only—and from you; and tboaealms have decided my fate for life.
In those days people drauk green tea, and ate heavy suppers, and went to bed with warming pans and night-caps, aud slept on feather beds with curtains around them, and dreaded fresh air in their rooms as much as sensible folks now-a-days dread to be without it. And if they heard a noise in the night, they got up and groped about in the dark, and procured a light with much dilfi- culty, with flint and steel, and ilnder- box, and unpleasant sulphur matches ; and went to the medicine eliest, and took calomel and blue pills aud salts and senna and jalap and rhubarb. In those days the fine gentleman tippled old Jamaica and bitters in the moruing and lawyers took their clients to the side-board for a dram ; while the flne ladies loungedjon sofas, reading Byron and Moore and Scott. In those days long, leather flre buckets were hung in the entries, filled with water, aud when a lire broke out every citizen was a fire¬ man. In those days gentlemen chew¬ ed tobacco indifi'ereut where they ex¬ pectorated, and the ladies cleaned their dental pearls with snuft', and wore thin shoes and lace themselves into femi¬ nine wasps and consumption. Babieii were put to sleep with spanking and paregoric. Urcliins were flogged at scliool, and subjected to all sorts of un¬ heard of chastisements. Picture-books and toys were dear aud poor. Big boys played " hockey'' iu the streets, with crooked sticks and hard wooden balls, policemen being unknown, and went home to their luotliers to have broken shins aunointed with opodildoc. Street fights occurred between schools, and school masters were persecuted by the biggest boys. Y'oung ladies danced nothing but formal and decorus cotil¬ lions, or fast and furious Virginia reels, in wide entry halls, by the liglit of the candles that called for snuffers every ten minutes, to music hy black fiddlers or cracked and jingling pans; while mothers sat darning stockings, aud fathers played backgammon, or gambled and swigged brandy and water, or came home late, roaring bac¬ chanalian songs, and inquiring, of their sleepy wives in which brown parcel the milk was wrapped up. Boarding-school misses in calico gowns practiced the " Battle of Prague," or the " Caliph of Bagdad," or Clementini's "Sonatas," on instruments not mueli bigger than a modern young lady's travelling trunk, strung with jingling wires that were always snapiiing , and occasion¬ ally chirped Tom Moore's " Melodies," or such airs as " Gaily the Troubador," or " Pray, Papa, Stay aLiltleLonger," or "The Banks of thcBlueMosche-he- lie-helle." Guests sat on liard wooden chairs, semetimes with their feet up over roaring wood fires, "spittin' around, and makin' 'em selves socia¬ ble," with juleps, egg-nogg, apples and cider. Every man sliaved, wore a bell- crowned hat, aswallow-tailed coat wilh a horse-collar, carried a turnip-shaped time-keeper in his waistband, with a heavy seal hanging out, had his breech¬ es pockets full of silver half dollars, wore round toed boots and linen shirt collars; ate all manner of nauseous quack medicines, dined at one o'clock, some families eating the pudding be¬ fore the meat, took naps in the after¬ noon—on Sundays preferring the pews for that purpose, smoked " long nines," ate fried oysteis and lobster salad, and drank fiery Maderia or puch at twelve o'clock at night.
Several yearsagolspentsomemonths amid the wilds of the West, and found much to amuse and interest me in the peculiarities of the people with whom I came in contact. It is a section as rich in ad venture as in natural scenery; and among the curious incidents that came under my notice, was the following:
I had been for some v'eeks enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Stiles—a farmer, physician, justice of the peace, and fol¬ lower of many other occupations; and to succeed in a country one must be enough of a Yankee to be able to turn his hand to almost anything. My host was born and reared iu New England ; lie had one of tho.se temperaments that enabled him readily to assimilate to the ivestern character and habits. He had every appearance of a western man; but bis education was better than the average native to that section of the country.
His house stood in the midst of the rolling prairie, and thougli builtof logs, was large and more comfortable than the majority of similar domicils. It contained one good-sized room; and another, smaller, opening out to it. Its upper portion was simply a loft, rarely used, except as a store-room.
But small as were the iiremises, they were as neat and clean :is the industri¬ ous himda of the New England wife— a pluuii), black-eyed little woman— could make them.
It was one day after dinner, andMrs. Stiles had tidied the room, smoothed her hair, and put on a clean apron, pre¬ paratory to sitting down to her sewing. I was seated by the window, looking out (Ul the huge billowy sea of grass, whicli,stirred by the rising wind,'waved iu incessant motion so fur as the eye could reach. Suddenly ray attention was arrested by something resembling a head bobbing up and down amid tlie long grass.
It evidently belonged to the human species, but it puzzled me for some time to determiue its gender. At last, how¬ ever, it emerged fioiu the jirairie upon the ploughed ground, aud the problem was solved. It belonged to a woman. She strode over the ground witli afree movement, entirely unimpeded hy a short, scant petticoat, and apparently quite unconscious that legs were any¬ thing to conceal or to he ashamed of. Indeed, few men could boast of such substantial understandings. Thoy were encased in thick boots and leather leg¬ gings. Her petticoat was red. The " short-gown" worn over it was of bright gaudy cotton stuft", a bine ground¬ work besprinkled with great bunches of red roses; and was further orna¬ mented by a huge frill around tho bot¬ tom. She had a red silk bandana tied about her head, aud carried a package in her hand, which appeared to bo the object of her special solicitude. My exclamation called Mrs. Stiles to the window.
" That's the widow Hepsey Martin," she said. "She lives three or four miles back on the prairie. 1 f Pete was with her, I should say she had come to get married."
There was no time for further expla¬ nation, for our visitor was at the door. She entered without tho preliminary of knocking; and seating herself in the chair that Mrs. Stiles placed for her, laid her parcel carefully upon her knees. She then cast a slitirp and anx¬ ious glance around. " Aint the Squar' tew hum ?" " No," replied Mr. Stiles ; " he wont to Morris early this morning witli a load of lumber, aud wont be back 'till night."
" Woll, if that aintuuforlinit! wlien I've cum clean across the peraray oh purpuss tew see him."
" Pcrliaps it'ssumething lean, attend to?" suggested jVIrs. S., as she observed the disappointed tone and look of her visitor.
"Woll, I should ruther think not. Y'ou're a right smart woman, I'll al¬ low; but I reckon it'll take the Squar' tew dew the job this time."
" Y'e sec," she added, confidentially, drawing her chair closer to Mrs. Stiles, "me and Pete calculate on gittin' hitched; an' that's what I've cum for. Pete's my hired man, you know; an' a right smart chap he is tew. He's work¬ ed on the farm putty nigh ever sence the old man died ; an' knows jest how Hike tcr hev things done; an' I reckon I could'nt dew better than ter hev him."
"But wliere is Peter ?" enquired Mra. Stiles.
" Oh he's cummin' round by the road In the buggy. Y'e see we'd hev ter cum rite by my darter Sail's, 'an ef she seen us ridiu' by tergetlier she'd suspect what we was np tew, an' raise jes' secli a rumpus as she did when I thouglit of hcvin' old Ben Sykes. So I scooted across the peraray. She 'an Dan (that's my eldes' boy) is' dead set agin my Iiev- in' Pete; but they suited themselves in marryin', and I recon I shel."
Soon Pete came aloug. He was evi¬ dently all oftwenty years younger than his intended bride; a tall, putty-faced fellow, with hair, eyes and skin all of a color. He appeared not over bright, hut yet had a sly look Iu liis half-closed sleepy-looking eyes.
There was a consultation by tho twain ; the result of which was that they concluded to wait 'til Mr. Stiles returned.
This point decided, the bride elect began to " slick up a little," as she phrased it. Untying the bandana from her head, she coolly appropriated Mrs. Stiles' comb, aud began, what she term¬ ed, to " lietcbel out" the course gray locks tliat adorned It.
Having doue tliis to her apparent sat¬ isfaction, she unpinned the parcel she had brought, and took from it a cap which defied description. A double frill of stiff white lace weut around its face, ending in long strings of broad plaid ribbon, combining nearly every color of the rainbow. A huge bow of the same was perched upon the top, while others of various shapes and sizes werescattered promiscuously over It, generally whereone wouldleast look for anything of the sort, each with long streamers, and an air of determination to do business on its own account, with¬ out regard to wliat Its neighbors might think or do.
Mrs. Martin handed it to us for ex¬ amination, receiving with evident self- complacency our ejeculatlous of aston¬ ishment at its design and execution.
She then put It on, and going to the glass regarded its general eflect with a self-satisfied smirk ; aud It certainly did have a very striking effect on the yellow, parchment-like skin, and black vixenish eyes of tlie wearer.
Happening to think that a marriage certificate was necessary, Sirs. Stiles en((Uired if the widow had one.
" Safe at the bottom of my redchist!" said Mrs. Jiartin, with a triumi>bant air, which was, bower, quickly changed to one of dismay, wlien Mrs. Stiles tis- sureil her that it would be necessary for her husband to examine it before per¬ forming the ceremony, the law being strict upon that point.
What was to be done now? Pete of¬ fered to go back for tile needed docu¬ ment; but the widow put a decided veto to this.
" Nobody hut myself shel go tew my red chist!" she said with a determined air.
" Now you remember,'' slie added, shaking her finger at the expectant bridegroom, " thatwhenwe'er married, you don't never go nigh my red chist!" Whereupon Mrs. Martin took ofl" the cap, and tied up her handkerchief. Then with an admonition to Pete, "not tew git ter sleep and fall inter the flre," she took her way hack across the prai¬ rie for the certificate, returning in an indescribably sliort time, considering the distance she had to walk. But she had hardly reached the house when it began to rain.
The hour at which Mr. Stiles was ex¬ pected came, had passed, and yet he did not make his appearance; while the storm uiomenlarily increased until the rain seemed literally to pour down in torrents. But still theanxious couple waited, evidently loth to depart with¬ out the accomiilishment of their jiur- pose.
It got to be past nine, when Mrs. Stiles expressed the opinion that her husband had put up tor the night at some house ou the way. And as the storm began to lull just then, they con¬ cluded "they might as well go."
The rest of the story was told us by Mr. Stiles, oii his return that evening. The couple had only ridden a short distance when it began to rain again as violently as before, until their gar- men ts were soaked throughand through The soft yielding soil made the roads very miry, and they were making but slow progress through the mud, when, hearing the sound of an ox-team, Pete drew the reins. "Is that you, Squar'?"
" Well, It Is. Who is It, an' what's wanting?"
" It's me an' the widder Martin. We've been over ter your bouse ter git married. Waited thar' all day fur ye."
" Well, just turn back, and I'll do up the business for you In a twinkling."
" Couldn't ye deu it jest as well here, Squar?" interposed the widow. " Got the reg'lar dockyment fur ye, 'an no mistake."
Mr. Stiles, who was fond of a joke, assented. But an unexpected obstacle arose. It was necessary that he should examine the certificate, and the night was so dark that it was impossible to discern the faintest outline of the forms before him. Besides, if he had a light, the high wind and the rain would have extinguished it.
But, fortunately, some matches were in his pockets, and crawling under the wagon, he lighted one; a single glance at the paper being suffleient to show that it was " all right."
Sir. Stiles then directed the couple to take hold of each other's hands; and there, on the road, in the midst of a driving storm, such as would have dampened the ardor of any lovers less determined in character, the twain were made one, and went on their way re¬ joicing.
Just as he was about to drive ofi", Pete observed:
" I'spose, Squar', I orter to ])ay ye something fur dewin' this ere job; but I havn't uary red about me. But I tell ye what 'tis; the fust pleasant day we liev, I'll bring yeu two bushels of the best 'taters that ever was dug."
As this would be something like " bringing coals to Newcastle," Mr. Stiles, having already more than he could conveniently store, ffood-natured- ly refused the generous offer; thehearty laugh he frequently broke into while plodding his way home, as well as the pleasure he enjoyed afterwards in rela¬ ting the incideut, amply repaid him for his trouble in performing the ceremo¬ ny of " a marriage under difHculties."
WAE EEMXITXSCENCES.
-His
.S.VII HOUSTON DURIRO THE W.\n SPEECH ON SECESSION.
A correspondent of the Chicago Tri¬ bune, writing from Galveston, Texas, says:
" The history of General Sam Hous¬ ton Is the history of Texas; covering the events of nearly or quite forty years, commencing with the struggles against Mexico for independence, and extend¬ ing througii the days of the Texas re¬ public, the exciting times of annexa¬ tion, including the war between Mexi¬ co and the United States, the fifteen years of peaceful connection with the Union under tlie 'stars and stripes.' down t> the unfortunate days of seces¬ sion.
" Tlio ' old war-horse' had a most varied experience during this whole eventful period—sometimes fighting as the military chieftain of Texas—then as political leader—and anon as tlie of¬ ficial head of the republic, or of the sttite—but his last battles were fought with the evil demon of secession. And permit me here to say, and record, that these last conflicts have never been well understood in our country, espe¬ cially in the norlhern section tliereof— and his words, actions and movements cannot be correctly interpreted without knowing and analyzing the anti-seces¬ sion animus by whicli he was actuated. " I do not essay to become iiig bio¬ grapher, except so far as, of my own personal knowledge, lam familiar wi:li that portion of his history whereof I write.
" On the general question of secession tliere were several classifications of ideas and parties. There was the old original Dyed-ia-the-VVool, John C. Ctilhoun, South Carolina, Nullifying Secession party. There was another party, made up of conditional men. They believed in secession as a dernier resort, in case the rights of the South could not be otherwise maintained. This party were the strongest of any in numbers, but were met with taunts of pusillanimous submission to the med¬ dlesome tyrant of the North, and when they said ' Let us stay in the Union and fight for our rights under the old flag,' the answer was insufficient for the crisis of the times. Tliey were borne down by the explosive power of slavery hy which tho public heart was fired North aud South. A third party said, thougli they dare not say it very loud : ' Let slavery slide if need be, but let us have the Union, with the old flag, at all hazards; the Union Is better for us than any other possible condition.'
" A fourth party opposed secession on the ground of inexpediency and bail policy. Tliey said they would not ar¬ gue the original question of either the constitutional, the moral, orthe natural right of secession, hut confine tlism- selves to the Idea that secession was in¬ expedient and Impolitic. They said that secession would precipitate war, and war would prove disastrous to southern rights, instead of remedial. This was old Sara Houston's party, of which he was the acknowledged leader. " I remember, a few days before the vote on secession, the old General came down to Galveston, from up the coun¬ try, to make a speech on tlie subject. He had been making a canvassing tour, and was full ot the inspiration of his subject—under which,as you mayjudge, he was blessed with a ' tolerable degree of utterance,' as used to be said of can¬ didates for the Methodist ministry when thought qualified therefor.
" A sel f-eonstituted committee of sev¬ eral leading gentlemen of the city wait¬ ed on the General at his quarters and tried to dissuade him from attempting to makeaspeecli in Galveston that day. They said: 'General, you know we are your personal friends, and have been your political supporters hereto¬ fore, but we dift'er from you in your views on the question of secession ; yet we do not wish to see you personally harmed. These are exciting times, and ive fear a mob may interfere and your life be in jeopardy.'
HOUSTON'S REPLY.
" He said: ' Gentlemen, I thank you for your personal considerations and auxieties; but I have seen exciting times In Texas before, and I have heard my friends express their personal fears before; and, gentlemen, I shall make the speech to-day at eleven o'clock from the upper gallery of Tremout Hotel. Should be pleased to see you there, gen¬ tlemen, and, if need be, to help keep order.' This closed the interview, and the committee retired, biting their lips and muttering, 'Stubborn old man.'
" Directly, one of the committee men came Into my offlce aud related the in¬ terview. I had then never seen Hous¬ ton, and had an Itching desire to see and hear liiin, but, beluga stranger in the country, and the city being in an excited state, I concluded not to go and hear him, as I did not wish to he caught in the presence of a|mob. Eleven o'clock came, aud twelve, and a gentleman came iu and said : ' Houston is speak¬ ing, and has been an hour, and all is quiet.' Considering now that circum¬ stances favored my desire to see and hear the ' old man eloquent' of Texas, I went. On seeing and hearing him a few minutes, I no longer wondered he was not interfered with bv the mob.
HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
" There he stood, the easy object of thousands of eyes, and a fine mark for the assassin's revolver—an old man of seventy years, among tho last of our country's giants—the lone giantof Tex¬ as ; there he stood, over six feet high, and straight as an arrow, a planter hat in one hand, a deep set and penetrating eye, that took In the vast crowd at a glance; a high -pen forehead with something of the infinite intellectual shadowed there, crowned with thin, white locks, flutte.-lng in the gentle breeze, as though electrical conduits of mental aud moral power from on high, for the occasion—and all this sustained by a powerful self-possession and delib¬ eration that Inspirited the assemblage into a state of awful quiet and submis¬ sion,
SYNOPSIS OF HIS SPEECH.
" I heard the last half of his speech— subject, the inexpediency and bad pol¬ icy of secession—and as I listened to his impassioned utterances I felt my¬ self inflated nigh unto emotional col¬ lapse with the sublime egoism (not to say egotism) of General Sam Houston on the occasion of an unprecedented crisis In the history of our country, when the (luestion of Union, as com¬ patible with the Eepublican doctrine of self-government, was being subject¬ ed to the strain of the last fibre between life and death—and like Webster in his memorable defence of the Constitution against the violent assaults of Hayne, of South Carolina, enjoying an oc(»eion fitted to call out his aublimest powers. He said to hfa heai«rs: 'I made I Texas, and you know ifr-^the history
fthd yon know it. I wrested Texas I from the hand of the Mexican tyrant, and you know it. I commanded ana fought at the battle of Sanjacinto, when the foe, Santa Anna, was whipped and captured, and rendered powerless ever after against Texas, and you know it. I organized and established the re¬ public of Texas, and you know it. I took you in infancy and dandled you on my knee, and uursed you through all your baby ailments. I watched and aided yonr growth with fatherly care and solicitude, from helpless Infancv till you reached the full stature of in¬ dependent political manhood.
" I am an old man now, and these are my last counsels. I have no am¬ bitions for the future of a personal na¬ ture; my ambition is now all concen¬ trated iu the glory of my state and national flags. Soon I shall be gather¬ ed to the fathers. Will you reject these last counsels and appeals of your politi¬ cal father, and squander your political patronage iu unseeming and riotous adventure ? "Some of you opposed me on aunexation, and I suppose have never forgiven me to this day, and are uow delighted to have an apparent op¬ portunity of taunting me with the re¬ sults of annexation. But lot me ask you, so soon as annexation became his¬ tory did not Texas enter upon a degree of prosperity she had never before known '1 Besides, tho present troubles are not the results of my action at all, but of other agencies aud influences.
" Some of you jocularly propose to drink all the blood that will ever be shed as the result of secession.
" Lot me tell you the state of things that I think will follow close on the heels of secession. '.Che time will come when your fathers and husbands, and sons and brothers, will be herded to¬ gether like sheep aud cattle, at the point of the bayonet—and your moth¬ ers and wives, and daughters and sistera will ask, where are they'?—and echo will answer where ?
" The fact Is, the North are determin¬ ed to ])reserve the Union. They are not a fiery, impulsive people, like you are—they live In cooler climates. But when they begin to move in a given direction, where great i.ssuesare involv¬ ed, like those between the North and South iu this crisis, tliey move with the steadiness, perseverance and mo¬ mentum of a mighty avalanche; and what I fear Is, they will overwhelm the South with ignoble defeat. But I could say amen to secession, with all the re¬ sults of blood and misery I have pic¬ tured, if I did not believe that our troubles would be adjusted—removed without invoking the Moloch of insa¬ tiate war—If there Avere no alternate lo secession and the sequence of war, then I would say fight, for it is better to die freemen than live slaves.
"In conclusion, let me ask you, are you of the same opinions and purposes of secession now that yon were when you came to hear mo to-day? And if you are, will nothing but the perdition of war satisfy and turn you from them?'
" 'I suin up the wliole to-day with a premonition that borders on the spirit of prophecy—hear it: O, God, and ye angels of His—hear, O ye people of Texas—secession will land you iu con¬ suming lire and rivers of blood!'
" ' I noticed several times during the speech the very men who, in the morn¬ ing, opposed the speaker and thespeak- Ing, applauding lustily with voice and hands—sucii was tlie magical power of Sam Houston over a Texas audience. The fact is, it was morally impossible for him to be mobbed In Texas. Doubt>- less this fact was well understood by him, hence he feared no mobs. Hous¬ ton was a friend and lover of Union, though ti believer in State sovereignty. C. T."
LE&AL NOTICES.
ADHINISTBATCn-S NOTICE.
Estate of Catharine Killhefler, late of
L Manor township, deceased. ETTEBS of administration on said estate ,, having been granted to the unUeralyned SinEi'?°'"'''>"ls'"cd thereto are requested ti J?f','5?„'"»"uediate settlement, and those having ™rJS™''"'V?'>'ls against t!ie same, will pre- ?.„ ,„„fi?=^'"'<">''J'=lay fnr.Hettlement to tho undersigned, residing IJ Mlllersville.
.„„„«> M«i'^^'"^^ "• KILLIIEPER, June20.0t«jl Admlnlslratdr.
SEWING MACHINES,
EXECVTOR'N NOTICE
Estate of Henry Herr, late of'Leacock township, deceased.
LETTEKS testamentary on said estate h avlne been granted to me the underNi^ned all per¬ sons Indebted thereto are requested to make Immediate payment, and those having claims or demands ag.alnst tho fialil deceUenL wm present tbeni to tho undersigned, residing in said townslilp without delay.
HENRY H. HERR, jun2(-Ct-32 Executor.
A».1IINIS-rnATOR'.S NOTICE
Estate of Catharine Lutz, late of West Coealico township, deceased.
LETTEItS of administration on said e.stale having been grunted to the undersigned, all per.sons Indebted thereto are retjuested to make Immediate payment, and those having claims ordemandsagalnst the same will pre- sentthem without delay for settlement to the undersigned, resldlngin Ephrata township. Ji.iJIUEL WOLK, June 10-61-30 Administrator.
EXECuroirs notice.
Estate of William H. Hall, late of War¬ wick township, dec'd. TETTERS testaincnUirj- on said estate J havlnglbeen gianted to the undersigned, all persons indebted thereto, are requested to make Immediate payment, and those having claims or demands against tliesatnc, will pre¬ sent them witliout delay for settlement to the undersigned, residing In .ssiid twp.
SAM. f. GROSH, inay30-0t-23 Executor.
E-VECUTOIt'S NOTICE.
Estate of Christian HofTman, late of Earl township, deceased.
LETTERS testamentary on .said estate hav- lug been granted to the uuden,lgned, all persons Indebted thereto are requested to make Immediate payment, and those having claims or demands agaln.Ht the same will present them for settlement to the undersigned, re¬ siding In said township.
MAGDALENA HOPP.irAN, Inn l:!-Ct»:iO Executor.
AvniTOK'S NOTICE.
Estate of Bartlett Dailey, lateofSads- bury twp., Lancaster co., dec'd.
THE undersigned Anditor, appointed to dis¬ tribute tho balance remaining In the hands of Warrlclw M. Cooper, executor, to and among those legally entitled to the samtt, will sit for that purpose on S.\TURDAY, .lULY Hth, ISclS, ut 11 o'clock, A. M., in tho Library Room of the Court House, In the Clly of Lancaster, where alt persons Interested In .said distribution may attend. I'lIlL. 1). UAKBB,
Juul:Mt.SO Auditor.
AnHINISTKATOirS NOTICE.
Estate of Jesse Haines, late of Sadsbu ry twp., Lancaster Co., ec'd.
LETTER.S of administration on said estate having been granted to the undersigned, all fiersons Indebted thereloare re(iuestedtomnke inmedlatepayment.and those havlngelalms ordemandsagalnst the same will present them for settlement to the uudorsluned.
HA tlMAN ALBRIGHT, Julyl-lit-33 rennlugtonville. Chester Co., Pa.
AVDITOn\S NOTICE.
Estateof John Beliihold, late of West
Coealico twp., Lancaster.Co., dec'd. nillE undersigned Auditor, a])pointed todls- Itrlbutc the balance remainlni; in the hands oCIacoli Reinhold *t Peter Uclnhold, adminis¬ trators of suld deceased lo and among tliose legally entitled tJ» the same, will attend for that purpose on TUESDAY, AUGUST J, 1S03, at 10 o'clock, a. in.. In the Library Room ot the Court House, in the City of LunciLster, where all persons interested In said distribution may attend.
B. B. FLICKINGER. Julyl-It-S! -Auditor.
The ISinger Sewing itacbliie
WINS THE PRIZE OF%ViO,
A S the subjoined report will show. It Is Xl_ proper here to state that the Agent of the lioWu bewiag Uachlue publicly chaUenged lUealngerAgent toapubilG teat trial, claim- 1>"K thut tno Howe Machine could do any wurk equally as weU loia some ihluga better I luu luo siuger Machine^ aud as a proof to .., 11 't"'"','"eut, put np »lljo as a forfeit lo tho uniiureu H Home Which was covered by the
SEPOBT.
The agent of the Howe Sewing Machine having challenged luo agent of the Singer Sewing-Machine to a public test trial oftho superiority of Howe's .ituchme over all others cluimiug that said Itowe'a Machine could do any work dune by other macblues equally Well aud in some things much belter thau any other; aud, the Ageut of the tilnger Ma¬ chine having accepteu said challenge, and tho audersigueu having beeu appointed by said IJiiriies to witness and report upon tho rela- Li\ c auaptedness of said muchiueB for work ?,, „.?H, '^' "'"' '" consider and decide on the ?,^,?^",V-' .^ "' '•'"' 'au'ily machine of each Sw. .,.iV,„.'.°""'""«' biaiulng, cording, tuck-
P.?' 'V u" t"" "lU'ltlug; auu ou the superior¬ ity ol the mauuiaclui mg maehine of each
and coacqi tiinimiug, beg leave t« report: 'ihat they attended s,iid i>ubllc test trial at tho Court House, iji 1-auca.nier, Pa, on Tues- d..y, Wednesday aud Thursday, April nth lutu and Kith, Itsdtl, and alter wilnehslng tho workings of said machines, by the resuuctive parlies, aud closely scruliuizlug the wurk done, give the following us tiieir decision Iu the premises; That tue aluger family machine cxeeutea the most of the work uooe, neater and better thau the Howe machine, and work¬ ed faster and seemed lo be more easily oper- raled, iiiakiug less noise.
'Tne neniiiiiug done uu the Singer machine was mucii superior ou some matorlals, thau ou Howe's, aud equally well ou others. Extra heavy work, Ugbt lucking, felling aud cording done was better executed ou the Howe ma- chlue than uu the Singer. 'The hemming, heavy lucking, ruffljug, braiding, fancy braiuing, ciiuuiur work and other binding wore all uetter doue by the Singer machine.
singer's machiue greatly excelled Howe's in galbeiiug and sewiug ou rulUes atoneaud the same operation, auU ou braiuing.
uu tue luauufacluriug machine of the re- speelivt: parLi,^, tests wete juade ou slice work, carnage trimming aud oluer malerialb, all of which proved the superiority of singer's ma¬ ciiine over their couieslaula.
SAM UEL SLOKOM, A. It. BARK, i.. McMELLEN,
Committee.
We, the undersigned, being the majority of the Coiumitlee to report upon the Tesl 'i'rlai of the Howe Sewing Maciiiuewllh ibe Singer Sewiug 3Iachlne, aud having reported upou the same in part, uow desire lu slate thai we made a very thorough examination into the merits of the work executed tjy the respective machines ut the test trial, and say Iu all can¬ dor tile report was accordiug to our best Juuguieutiu Ihe matter. As a further guar¬ antee we take tho liberty lo insert here a pre¬ cise record of the votes cast as we examiued tile goods iu the committee of the wliole, viz :
.SHOE WORK—Singer had 3 votes on two points, and 4 votes ou oue point. Howe had i votes ou 1 point.
UAKillAUE TUIMMING-Slnger hadS votes on stilcutng and 5 ou hemming, ilowe iiad 'Z votes uu stitching and none uu hemming.
PAMlLY—sluger had 1 votes ou nemining, 3'ou binding, 3 ou ruhling, 4 ou fancy braldiug, 3 ou plalu braiuing,:: ou extra iieavy work, 1 ou light tucking, i ou circular cup work, a on turning corners m cording, 3 ou hemming, :: ou feliiug, 3 ou Iieavy lucking.
Huwe Iiad ou stitchlug 'i votes, hemming none, binding 2, rullliug uoue, plain braiding 'Z, fancy braiding uoue, heavy woik 3, circular cull work 1. cording round corners 3, heavy hemming '2, felling 3, heavy tucking '2. Ou quitting the macbtnes each had 'i voles, ono member declining to vole.
The above table will show at a glance, that the Singer Sewiug Machiue hud ihlrteeu pulutjj, while tue llowo hud only live points.
We, therelore, decide that the aluouut of lorfeit be paid uver to W. W. ISeuruslee, the ageUt ol the singer Machine, aud bo by binx duuated to the CuUdreu's Home, iu our cily, as agreed upon Iu tlie public eliailenges and his acceptance.
SAMUEL SLOKOM, A. U. BARR, E. MCMELLEN,
Committee.
A STOEY FOB, THE LITTLE FOLKS. TUE YOUXG WITNESS.
A little t'irl, nine years of age, was a witness against a prisoner, who Wius on atrial for a crime comiuitted in her father's house. ,
" Now, Emily," said the counsel for the prisoner, upon her being put in the witness box, " I desire to know if you understand the nature of an oath."
" I don't know what you mean," was the simple answer.
" There, your Honor," said the coun¬ sel, addresing the court, "is there any thing further necessary to show the force of my objection ';• Tliis witness should be rejected. She does not know the nature of an oath."
"Let us see," and the judge. "Come here, my little girl."
Assured by the kind tone and man¬ ner of the judge, the child stepped to¬ ward him and looked up eonlidiugly In his face, with a calm, clear eye, and in manner su artless and frank that it went straight to tlie heart.
"Did you ever take an oafh?" In¬ quired the judge. The little girl step¬ ped baclt with a look of horror, and the blood mantled in a blush all over her face and neck, as she anwered—
" No, sir."
She thought he meant to iuquire if she had ever blasphemed.
A(IDITOK-N NoriCC.
Estate of Susanna Yaekey, late of West Oocalico twp., LancasterCo,, dec'd.
TUE undersigned Auditor, appointed to dis¬ tribute the balance remaltilug in the hands of David Conrad & Peter Reinhold, Admlnls- trutors of .said dcce;ised, to and among those legally entitled to the.same. will .sit for that purpose on TUESDAY, AUGUST Itb, laW, at 2 o'clock, p. ni., in the Library Room of the CourtHouse, III the City of Lancaster, where all persons interested in said distribution may attend. R. Ii. FLICKINGER,
July l-It-;« Auditor.
EXECOroitS- NOTICK.
Estate of Jacob Hoover, late of SalLs- bury twp., deccaseil.
LETTERS testamentary on said' estate hav¬ ing been granted to the nnderslgued, all persons Indebted tlieretoare reqnus ten to make Immediate settlement, and those having clalmsordemaudsagaln.^t thc^ime, will pre¬ sent them without delay to the undersigned, residing In .said township,
.S.\.MUEL S. HOOVER,
of Hallsbury twp,, JOIIN it. WILSON, uf Leacock twp., Jiin 27-(it».')2 Execubirs.
AUDITOR'S NOTICE.
Estate of Joseph Yackly, late of West Coealico twp., Lancaster co., dee'd.
THE undersigned Auditor, appointed to dis¬ tribute the balance remaining in the hands of David Conrad &. Peter Reinhold. Executors of said deceased, to aud among those legally eutitled to thesame. will sit for that purpose on TUESD.^Y, AUGU.ST itli, ISCS. at 2 o'clock, p. m.. In the Library room of the Court Hon.se, iu tlieClty of Lancaster, where all persons in¬ terested In salil distributian may attend.
J). B. FLICKINGER.
Julyl-lS-lt-S-l Auditor.
' of Sam Houston la the history of Texas' or bust.
" I do not mean that," said the judge who saw his mistake. " I mean, wer< you ever a witness before V"
"No, sir; Iwasujver iu a court be fore," was tlie answer. He handed her the Bible, open. " Do yea know that book ?" She looked at It and answered, "Yes, sir; It is the Bible."
" Do you ever read it?" he asked. " Yes, sir, every evening." " Can you tell me what the Bible is ?" inquired the the judge.
" It Is the word of the great God," she answered.
" Well, place your hand upon this Bible, and listen to what I say;" and he repeated slowly and solemnly the oath usually given to witnesses.
" Now," said the judge, " vou have sworu as a witness. Will yo"u tell me what will befall you if you do not tell the truth ?"
" I shall be shut up In prison," an¬ swered the child. " Any thing else," asked the judge. " I shall never go to heaven," she I replied.
" How do you know this'.'" asked the judge again.
The child took the Bible, aud turn¬ ing rapidly to the chapter containing the commandments, pointed to this one—" Thou shalt not bear false wit¬ ness against thy neighbor." " I learn¬ ed that before I could read."
" Has any one talked with you about your being wltne-ss in court here against this man ?" inquired the judge.
" Yes, sir," she replied. " My mother heard they wanted me to be a witness, and last night slie called me to her room, and asked me to tell her the ten commandments; and then we kneeled down together and she prayed that I might understand how wicked It was to hear false witness against my neigh¬ bor, and that God would help me, a little child, to tell the truth as it was before Him. And when I came up here with father, she kissed me and told me to remember the ninth commandment, and that God would hear every word that I said."
"Do you believe this?" asked the judge, while a tear glistened in his eye, and his lip quivered with emotion.
" Yes, sir," said the child, with a voice that sliowed that her conviction of its truth was perfect.
" God bless you my child," said the judge; " you have a good mother. This witness is competent," he continued, " Were I on trial for my life, and in¬ nocent of the charge against me, I would pray God for such a witness as this. Let her be examined,"
She told her story with the simplicity of a child, as she was; but there was a directness about it that carried convic¬ tion of its truth to every heart. .She was rigidly cross-examined. Tho oouii- sel asked her many troublesome and awkward questions, butshe varied from her iirst statements in nothing.
The truth so spoken by that little child was sublime. Falsehood and perjury had preceded her testimony. But before her testimony falsehood was scattered like chaff, Tho little child, for whom a mother had prayed for strength; to be given her to speak the truth as it was before God, broke the cunning devices and matured villainy to pieces like a potter's vessel.
I need not say that the man was found guilty, and that he was sent to prison for nearly two years, I hope he was a better man when he came out.
It is not until the flowerhas fallen off that the fruit begins to ripen. So in life, it is when the romance Is past that the practical usefulness begins.
Iowa does' not owe a dollar. The name of the State should be dhanged to I-don'<-owa,
A coarse western paper says that Vinnie Beam's motto is, " Sell a statue
NOTICE.
To theHeirs aud Legal Kepresentatives of Elizabeth Bowman, otherwise call¬ ed Elizabeth Seesholtz, late of Provi¬ dence twp., Lancaster co.. Pa,, dee'd. YOU are hereby notlfled that by virtue of an order of the Orphans' Court of Lancaster county, to me directed, I will hold an Inquest to divide, part or value, the Real li^state of Elizabeth iSowman (otherwise Seesholtz.) de¬ ceased, on SATURDAY', AUGU.ST 1st, ISliS, nt 2 o'clock, P. Jt., at the premises In Providence towiLshlp, Lancaster county. Pa., when aud where you may attend If yim think proper. J. P. FREY. .Sheriff. Sheriff's Offlce, Laucaster, July 2, ISIW. July! lt-33
TIIE POINTS ON WHICH TUE SINOER EXCEI..S TIIE HOWE liLACHINE.
Tho foregoing report shows that the Singer Is better ibau the Howe Machine, In thu following particulars:
1. It uues belter and neater work.
2. It works much faster.
.'(. It works easier—au Important mattet- Che ladies.
4. It makes less noise.
5, It dues oetter Hemming on somo mato- rials, and equally well on others,—tbo very thing you need luost in tnefatuUy,particular¬ ly iu Shirt making, ou sheets and PiUow slips, Pocket HauukerchleCs, Towels, aud Table Spreads,
(1. It does better Tucking.
7. It does better liraiding.
S. It embroiders wmle the Howe does not.
y. It works better on circular work.
10. It does belter niuding. The Howe draws the BInuing wiille the .'Singer does uot. An ilem to Dress Makers.
\i. It justly excels llio Howe on Gathering and Sewing oil llultles, at oue aud the same uperaliou. 'llie Howe lulling entirely in this.
i'J. It does better shoe Filtiug aud Fancy Stitclilugou patent leather.
13. It far excelled the Howe In Coach Trim¬ ming, both lu time and llie maunerot work. 4
I will also state tiiat the Singer Machine is more simple In 11^ consliucllou, ease of man¬ agement, and more durable than tbo Howe .Maciiine, thu Howe having 'la pieces, the .Singer only 107 pieces.
1 trust the people will call at my rooms,
At A'o. ;t £nst Orange Street,
Two doors from S. S. Itatbvon'sClothlugStoro,
LANCASTER, PENNA., And see for themselves. We sell at the low estCiLsh lirlces. We give thorough iustructlon. We deliver the Machine to yourdoors, free of charge. We Insure the Machine to give satis¬ faction or uo sale. We havo permanently lo¬ cated here, and our patrons can rest assured that no pains will be spared ou our part Co till ali our pledges to our customers. Grutefut for the liberal patronage heretofore given ma, I earneslly solicit a contluuauce of the same.
N. B.—Ladles' ' aud Cbildrcns' Underwear Constantly un baud and made to order.
W. ¦VV. BEARD.SLEE,
inay9-tf-25 Agent.
BANKRUPT NOTICE.
Tn the District Court of thel United States, for Che East-)- In Bankruptcy, eru District of Penn'a. \
At Lancasteu, the 27th day of June, ISCS.
TO the creditors of saldBankrupt: Theunder- slgned hereby gives notice of hlsappolnt- mentas Assignee ofSilasWellerof tho township of Caernarvon, in the.countyof Lancaster.anu .State, of Pennsylvania, within said District, who has been adjudged a B.tnkrupt upon his own petition by the District Court of said district. D. O. ESHLE.MAN, -\3slgnee,
Julyl-3*t-a3 36 North Duke St., Lancaster.
BANKUBPT NOTICE.
In tho District Conrt of the) United .State.s, for the East'n Mn Bankruptcy. District of Pennsylvania.. ) At La>-c.vsteb, June 27, isos.
TO ¦WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.—The under¬ signed hereby gives notice of his appoint¬ ment as Assignee of Peter Hoffer, of the bor- ougU of Balubridgc, in the county of.Lauca.sler and State of Pennsylvania, within said Dis¬ trict, who has been adjudged iiBanlcruptupon Ills own petition, by the District Conrt of said district. D. O. tSHLEMAN. Assignee, Julyl-3t*33 30 North Duke St., Laucaster.
Ifothiug more appropriate for a GIf
thau one of the
GREAT
AMERICAN COMBINATION
Battou SCoIc, Orerseaming,
AND
SEWING MACHINES.
Sola by
CARB!
UKIGART'S OLD AYINE STOJIE,
Established in 1785. NO. :jc e^vst king-st., lancasteu, pa.
THE ropiUatlon of REIGAUT'S OLD "WINES AXOUKANDIErf for purity and excellent qiirility liiiving been fully estiibliffhcd for near¬ ly a century, we regret that tho conduct of Kotuo uuprinclpled dealers, who re-flll 'wltU antl sell irom our labeled bnttles their delete- rhms compouudH. compels us to adopt the an¬ nexed trade niarlc, which in future, for the protection of ourselves and our customers, will befiHind on all our ohl bottled Wines, IJrandk's, Ulns, Whiskies, Bitters, Ac,
And further, in order to protect tho same, wo liereby unnounce our determination to proseciUe to tlic fullest extetU of the Act of As¬ sembly, approved aist day of March. ISflO, any ]iers<ms or persons wlio Hhail violate the prtr- vlslons of saiduct us applicable to our trade mark.
N. B.—Wo respectfully re<iuest the public.
when they have occasion or ueslre to use Uld
Brandy at the Hotels or Restiurants to ask
particularly for Ueigart's Old Brandy.
Very Respectfully. Ac, ¦
H. E. 8LAVMAKEU, Aat.
Lancaster, Jfarch aj. 180S. juu 10 'tW-ly-ao.
W. F. DUNCAN,
No. -IS North Queen St., Lancoater, Pa'
It ts warranted to execute in the best man¬ ner every variety of Sewing, Hemmtnff, Fell¬ ing, Cording, Tucking, Braiding, Gathering. Quilting, Overscaming, Embroidering on the Edge, aud In addition makes beautiful
BUTTON AND EYELET HOLES
In all Fabrics.
J5®* IT HAS NO EQUAL!!! -©ff
BEIN'G AI»OX.irr£LY TUE BEST
FAMII-Y iiEAcsisrx:
IN TIIE WORLD ! !
AND INTRINSICALLY THE CHEAPEST!!!
Clrcuhirs, with full particulars, and sample of work done on this Machine, can be had on application at the
SALtES BOOHS OF TIIE C03IPANT,
S. W. Cor. mil <fe Cheatnut fits.,
PHILADELPHIA
For sale by
W. F. DUNCAN, No. 4S North Queen Street,
LANCASTER. PA,
And by JoiiK B.WiSSi'EU.Bmnnersvilla, Lan¬ caster county. LilecIS-taug I
b:abi>yvare.
NEW S T O 11 E.
T REINHOLD &. SON have opened a new • Hardware and House Furnislilng Store, at Lhe Soutriwust Corner of North Queen antl Waluut streets, with a scnurul a&sorttiiCQt or
HOUSE FURNISHING GOODS,
Building Hardware, Cutlery, Pjilnts, Glass, Linseed Oils, liolleti aud Raw; White Lead, Varnish. Also, a large and varied stock of Cedar Ware, Farming Implements, Forks, Shovels, Hopes, Rakes, ic
We call particular attention to our extensive stock of Floor, Table, and Currlago OIL CLOTHS, which for quantity and variety can¬ not be BurpHssed In this city. A full assort¬ ment of GROCERIES also on hand.
REINHOLD & SON,
Corner of North Queen and Walnut streets.
apl 2y tf-2-I
ailXJBS d: AUXEB,
TIN AND SHEET-IRON WORKERS,
No. 3 West Orange Street, 2d door from North Queen St., Lancaster,
HAVE constantly on hand a large variety OfTINWARE and Housekeeping Goods.
TIN AND SHEET-IRON WORK of flU kinds promptly made to order, at moderate prices.
TIN ROOFING, SPOUTING & REPAIRING Of all kinds executed at the lowest cash
prices, and In ttie best workmanlike manner.
D. MILES. H. F. AUXER.
apr 29 ly'63-24
CUnrniug 9Iadc £asy*
Good Fresh Butter all tlie Year Bound.
F^VRXIERS attend: SAVE TIME! SAVE MONEY!! SAVE LABOR'!!
BY using Tomllnson & Co's (Lincoln Eng¬ land) Celebrated Butter Powder. By the use of this Inexpensive Powder, churning of hours is reduced to minutes, and is applicable to the making of Butter at all seasons of the year. A small quantity added to the milk or cream at tlie time of churning will produce Butter in much less lime, lu larger quantity, and of A superior quality, llavur and conslut- cucy. It removes the iiiipleasant flavor caused by the cows feeding on turnips. gurJIc, weeds, itc; nnd prevents all rancidity peculiar to butler; also makes It llrmer and sweeter even in the hottest weather.
Tills Powder, now being introtluccd Into this couutry, has long been in use throughout Eu¬ rope and tlie Canadas, and Butter made with it has Invariubly taken the prize at all Agri¬ cultural Shows, whenever exhibited.
Price 2.5 cts. and ^ cts. per Box. Sold by all respectable DrutEglsts and Store-keepers througliout the couutr.
JASIES A. ARMSTRONG, General Aeent for United SUtes, No. 119 Market-SU, Philadelphia. Jun i:; 4m-3(J
The Cheapest and Best iu the If'orld. .
COMBINING ALL THE LATEST IMPROVE¬ MENTS.
QETS of ARTIFICIAL TEETH
from 9S to S2<(—warranted. AU work at re¬ duced prices at Pr. Chas. A. Whlt«'» Dental EsUblfahment. Ptalladelpbla, 103 Nortb lOm St., first door above 4.roh. New Yorfi: branch 135 Sixth Avenue. Juu U-Sm ai
