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THE SMOKY HILL. 'MWffllMM "TOM
"WE JOIN OURSELVES TO NO PARTY THAT DOES NOT CARRY THE FLAG, AND KEEP STEP TO THE MUSIC OF THE UNION. "-
JUNCTION CITY, TCAISTSAB, SA.TTTIlI)Air, jMA.Y 7, 1864.
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THE YOUNG SOLDIER'S TROMISB.
Thero oro few sidder or tuotc trying
heurs in all the sad and trying hours of
ytntulheihood than that when a beloved son
goes from his sheltering liome to a. soldier's
untried life. What exposure beforo him,
ud who but God to protect ? What hnrd
ehip3, and who but God to sustain ? What
perils, and who but God to shield and guard?
God be with him then. God be with the
mother, too, aa she gives him up and bids
him go forth with her blessing.
" Promise me, Charles," said a mother,
as she held the hand of her sou, just leaving
for the camp, and looking entreatingly into
" A broken promise would weigh me
down, mother. But I mean to be a good
boy, for your sake, if for no other reason."
And he put his arm around the stooping
ehoulderd,aud kissed her pale, sunken cheek.
" Promise what I nsk, my foil The
aacredness in which you hold a promise
"will make it a safeguard to you as a hope
und trust to me. It will be ono more shield
between you and sin; ono more restraint.
And if a promiso broken would weigh you
down, a promise kept would give you
strength and firmness.
The son clasped tighter the hand that
h!d his own, aad tearfully promised to do
what it is strange that any ono should ever
fail to do nightly to ask help and blessing
from the great, good Father of us all, and
daily read his word of love and mercy, and
to shun profanity, gambling, aud the vices
j.vjf camp life.
Bless you, my son," exclaimed the
thankful mother. "You hae given now
life to my hope and new strength to my
prayer tor you :
The next night sees the young soldier in
cam p. The hour of sleep has come, yet on
every hand is heard the laugh, the jest, the
light song. The men lie down to deep as
thoughtless ns the beasts that perish. Is
thore not ono to pray here? Does no one
ask hjlp for bis necessities, protection for
his unguarded hours? What! no one to
supplicate a blessing from the bounteous
Gicr? No ono to plead for forgiveness
when so man' aro over-burdened with sin ?
No one seems to pray. Foolish as needy,
the starving soul will not ask for bread;
the weak will not ask for help ; the impure,
the unclean will not ask for cleansing; the
sick will not ask for healing. They will
suffer starve they will perish forever
before they will ask. Amazing folly!
Shall the young soldier prayIone? Why
not? Does he uot need prayer? Does ho
not need it more to night than ever, this
first night amid strange, rough scenes, amid
strange, rough men this first night of a
ucw life ? What can he do without the
help, the blessing ho will obtain from pray
er? But he will be laughed at if he prays
here. Ho will offend his elders by seeming
to be better than they. And where can he
kneel? There is no quiet 6pot not one.
flow can he pray here? lie hesitates.
The thin hand of his mother is again clasp
ed tightly in his own ; her tearful eyes are
gazing into his; her voice of tenderness is
in his ears. The promise made to her at
their last parting is on his heart like a new
baptism. The young knees bend the
youBg head bows before God. Amid the
laugh, and jest, and mirth, one prayer
It is well. "Brave, dutiful boy ! There
"was no braver heait in all that company
that night ! Do any sneer ? Nay, but the
laugh sinks lower; the jost ceases around
him. Ho holds audience with God, and
those unused to prayer felt better, safer,
that there is one among them who holds a
link with Heaven The praying youth lies
down to untroubled sleep. Thank God
-nowfer the promiso made. Thank God,
coo, for the anxiety of the mother for her
wise love, her unyieldiug purpose !
- Men always respect prayer, piety, in their
hearts but too often, in their folly, they
scoff at sacred things. The first night even
' the abandoned were hashed, solemnized, as
. they ,saV tho young stranger kneel among
them j but it was not long before he heard
the low jeer at ins devotions.4" He heard
w himself called the "little y saint," " the-
. model youth." This was hard to be borne.
rr Ridicule is torturing Jto-the sensitive.- -It is'
"withering to the young. "Vin I openly
pray on?" queried ' the young soldier.
; Had I not better leave off kneeling before
the men?" Then came freshly to bis mind
the promise to his mother; bis duty to his
God. Were these rude men ; almost stran
gers, more to him (ban his mother and his
God 2 He prayed as before. Honor to
thee, young hero! Better courage, bravery,
hast thou shown than many a conqueror on
The soldiers in the tent were merry over
the intoxicating cup.
" Take a drink, Charlie !"
' No, I never drink."
" Como, you better. I'll do you good."
"I never drink,' he said firmly.
" You better learn, then."
41 No, I never drink and never mean to."
" But you must. We wont have you
with us unless you do," exclaimed one of
them, who was overheated by liquor.
He stepped forward and pressed the cup
to the boy's lips. Charlie drew back inter
posing his hand.
' I tcill not drink, i promised my mo
ther I would not,"
" Promised your mother, did you, baby?"
and. there was a general laugh as the liquor
was thrown in the face of the resolute boy.
" There, stop that, will you ?" bhouted a
veteran in the company. "If the boy don't
want to drink let bun alone, and if he
minds his mother, all the better."
There wns something in the veteran's
tone that checked the others, and they per
mitted the boy to leave them without fur
But they liked him all the less for this
interference on his behalf, aud determined
to bring him to their own level. Some of
the roughest and most reckless constructed
a rudo card table and proposed a game of
cards. They insisted that Charlie should
take a hand.
"Why not? You're just the ono for
cards. Of course you play. All boys do."
tic still inclined. They still insisted.
'I cannot play; I will not," he answered.
" Did you promise your mother? We'll
break your promises for you." They
sneered, heaping insult and abuse upon him.
How severe these trials for a young and
gentle nature! Escaped from his persecu
tor, the faithful youth opened his Bible
and read that unequaled and most beautiful
of all lesions taught by the Great Teacher
to His disciples on the mountain.
His veteran friend approached. " Readiu'
your Bible agin," he said. How much you
read it !"
" I promised my mother to read it every
What's that word
ciful to nte a sinner !
after justified ?"
"'Justified.' Jesus Christ, the saviour
of ninners, Himself says it."
" God be merciful to me a sinner !"
whispered the dying man again and again,
lower and still lower, until his breath had
Charles bent to hear another word, but
the voice was still forever. His tears fell
on the furrowed brow as he kissed it ten
derly, and on the rough, strong hands as he
(aid them upon the big, manly breast, where
once had beat such great throbs of passion,
joy, and sorrow, love and hate, ambition,
hope, despair; all ended with that simple
trust that He who died for us will save us
when we cry.
Tho Bible lay open at the blessed words
that had given hope to the departed soul.
As Charles closed it and laid it, newly hal
lowed, in his breast, he blessed bis mother
anew for the promise that bad made this
Books of bookshis daily guide and friend,
and had opened its immortal light and life
to the eyes just closed iti death.
If sad and trying beyond mot hours of
mortal tiiul be that when mother and son
part ou the eve of battle life, so clad and
joyous beyond most hours of human joy is
that when they meet when wars hardships
have been borne, and its dangers past.
Leave the mother and son together now;
or if ye gaze and listen, do so silently, for
it is their Hour, an hour purchased by an
guish and fear, by yearning and prayer. A
long embrace a welcome of tears without
a word spoken.
Then, ' God bless you my son," sobs the
She holds his hands as when they parted,
that parting is before her now.
" You kept your promise, Charles ?"
" By God's grace, I did, mother. And
bless you that I made it."
Bless you that you have kept it, my son !
And praised be the Lord forever that you
both made and kept it. Watchman.
Did you ? Well, keep your promise.
I wish I'd promised my mother the same
when I left her. I never should ha' been
what I am now, if I had. But what was
you readiu' when I came ?"
Charles read aloud: "Love your enemies,
bless them that curse you, do good to them
that hate you, and pray for them that de
spitefully use you and persecute you."
The old soldier interrupted : " That's
clear beyond me. I haint got the first no
tion o' such practice. A blow for a blow's
been my way, and the heaviest last."
" But He who was better and wiser than
all men taught this," answered Charles.
"Well, well, it may be right; but I
never learnt that way ;" and the old soldier
He came again. " Is there any thing in
that book o' yourn for a rough old fellow
like me any thing that would suit me ?''
Charles thought a moment, and then read
from Paul's letter to the Christian soldier
of Epbesus. " Be strong in the power of
His might. Put on the whole armor of
God. Stand, therefore, having your loins
girt about with truth, and having on the
oreasipiaie or nguieousneiS.
" That's not for me," said the old soldier.
"I haint got no such armor; no fcuch
breastplate. Aint there nothin' for mo in
that book? Find somethin' that'll do for
the worst old fellow in the army, though I
suppose there's worse than me : but I'm
Charles repeated : ( Though your sins be
as scarlet, they shall be white as snow ;
though they be read like crimson, they shall
bo as wool," and then read the story of the
publican and bis humble prayer, " God be
merciful to me a sinner !
" That's good. That suits me exactly."
exclaimed the old soldier. -"Then that
prayer'll do, won't it? I can pray that
easy right easy.
" God be merciful to
repeated devoutly. " I
know that well enough.'
to me a sinner ! That's
learning to pray, boy.
It was not long beforo Charles was sum
moned to tbe hospital. His old friend had
fallen on picket duty, and was dying. ,
"Stay bv jne," be said to Charles. (Dont
leave me while I live."
Cbarlcs held bis chilled hand and gently
smoothed hia pallid brow. The dying sol
dier pressed the band that held his own as
if it had been that of wife or mother, then
faintly asked, WhereVthe little Bible ?"
Charles drew it forth". "
" Read my prayer."
He read : " And the publican, steading
afar off, would not lift no so much as Ms
eyes to heaven,Tbut smote" upon 'bis breast, eschari
saying, Godbe merciful to sot? a aiaaer ! wife it ai
r 2 ii -a - T -
i xeu you untHD went down to kia aowto
. -f..: . ,. .. . . ., z
jEsunea reiner-usa trie other." . 'i
ineayisg mm repeated, " God bm
me a sinner !" he
am a sinner. I
God be merciful
my prayer. I'm
You've learnt me
A CURIOUS PETITION.
The following is a true copy of an orig
inal petition, supposed to have been written
about sixty years since by a Mr. James
" To the honorable the commissioners of
excise The humble petition of Barney
O'Blaoey, Patrick O'Fagan, Carney O'Con
ner and Teague O'Ragan, to be appointed
inspectors, and surveyors, and overlookers,
vulgarly called excisemen, for tho county
cf Cork, its own self, in tbe kingdom of
" And whereas we, the aforesaid petition
ers, will, both by night and by day, and all
night and all day, and we will come and eo.
and walk and ride, and take and bring, and
send and fetch, and carry, and we will see
all, and more than all, and everything, and
uothiug at all, of all such goods and com
modities as may be, and can be, and cannot
be, liable to pay duty ; and we, the afore
said petitioners, will, at times, and at all
times, and at times past, be present, and be
absent, and be backward, and be forward,
and behind, and before, and everywhere,
and no where, and here and there, and no
where at all ; and we, the aforesaid peti
tioners, will come, and inform, and give in
formation and notice, duly, truly, and hon
estly, and wisely, according to ourselves,
and for every one of us, and no one at all ;
and we will not cheat the king any more
than what is now lawfully practiced.
" And whereas we, tbe aforesaid petition
ars, as we are gentlemen of reputation, and
we are protestant, and we Jove the king,
and will value him, and we will fight for
him, and run for him, to save him, or any
of his acquaintances or relations, as fast,
and much faster than lies in our power, and
dead and alive, as long as we live, and
longer too. Witness our several and sep
arate hands in conjunction, one after an
other, all together, one and all three of us,
both together. Barney O'Blaney, Patrick
O'Fagan, Carney O'Connor, Teague O'Ra
gan, of Charley Mount
THINGS THAT HEYK& DIE. -
The pure, the bright, the beautiful, . ,
That stirred ourh-arts in youth,
The impulse to a -world less prayer, '
The dreams of love and truth.
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning cry.
The strivings after better hopes
These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need.
The kindly words in grief's dark hour'
Tlmt proves a friend indeed ;
The plea for mercy softly breathed.
When justice threatens high.
The sorrow of a contrite heart
These things shall never die.
The memory of a ciasping hand.
The pressure of a kiss.
And all tfie trifles sweet and frail.
That make up love's first bliss ;
If with a firm, unchanging faith.
And holy trust and high.
Those hands have clasped, those lips have met.
These things shall never die.
The cruel and the bitter word, .
That wounded as it fell ;
The chilling want of sympathy.
We feel, but never tell :
The hard repulse, that chills the heart
Whose hojws were bounding high.
In an unfading record kept
These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some work to do ;
Lose not a chance to waken love
Be firm, and just and true.
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam to thee from ou high.
An angel voice will say to thee
These things shall never die.
A SINGULAR COUNTRY,
correspondent of the Walla
A Longitudinal River. A river that
runs east or west crosses no parallel of lati
tude ; consequently, as it flows towards tbe
sea, it does not change its climate, and be
ing in tbe same climate, tbe crops that are
grown at its mouth are also grown at its
sources ; and from one end to the other of
it there is no variety of productions it is
all of wheat and, corn, or wine or oil. or
some other staple. Assorted cargoes, there
fore, cannot be made up from the p reduce
which such a river brings down to market.
On the other band, a river that runs north
or south crosses parallels of latitude, chang
es its climate at every turn, and, as the
traveler descends it, he sees new agricultur
al staplqs aorindrng. Such a river j bears
down' to"tbe sea a variety of productions,
which one or another of the nations fssure
to want, and for which one "will send tovthe
market at its, mouth or tfie port -whence
'they1 are' distributed over tbe world. "Its
advantages are equally great for trade be
tween the different sections thrbatrh1 which
It flows, as the staples of those sections are
unhko, and productions lacking in we part
of its coarse ate supplied in asTother. The
assortments of SBcrcaaadise afforded ' av
river' ace. the life oft: aa'eree ;i they ji
aergy, scum anaaeope.:': Scs
istke esily aachTiver ia the world !Jbt
tifie America ,L .11 ,'j 7tz ; jc
(Washington Territory") Statesman, who
is a member of the 1st Oregon Cavalry,
writes as follows concerning a country the
command passed through last August, lying
between Fort Lapwai and the Blackfoot
Ferry, across Snake River, or Lewis Fork
of the Columbia.
Among the distinguished features of the
route from Cammas Prairie to this place,
tbe Desert and the great Lava Fields are
worthy of particular mention. Tbe road is
good; and grass, water and wood plenty for
80 miles, to where we approaeh tbe Lava
Fields. These are among the wonders of
Idaho, the written history of which has not
yet transpired, and which is by far too vo
luminous for a nowspapcr article. I will
only giye you a meagre sketch. For forty
miles the route lies along the base af huge
mountains, whose craggy heights are the
home of perpetual winter.
1 ollowiug the base of the hills, and press
ing up into every little nook aud cove, is a
vast line of lava, stretching our from tbe
road southward almost as far as the eye can
bee a mass of oynder, cracked and gaping
like mouiter Doom distorted, scaly, sul
phuric aud abysmal resembling, I imagine,
an abandoned Pandemonium, rustv and
wasting from long disuse. Tho road is not
bad; but winds along between the base of
tbe hills, and the margin of that dark ex
panse, with scarcely room in places for a
wagou to pass. Tbe waves of cinder form
a complete and continuous wall, from five
to twenty feet high, and far more insur
mountable than were the walla of Jericho
In appearance, this resembles pot-metal;
and tbe wall projects' at the top liko a rush
Tbe weather was hot and smoky: the
haze that hung over that sombre region,
seemed to come up from the smouldering
hell beneath. -. The heat shimmered up
wards as from a furnace. Along the verge
of the valley, in the heaps of lava, were
rattle-snakes, scorpions, horned toads and
lizards. Here and there a raven flapped
by with its dismal croak, and dwarfed chip
munks twitted aloag tbe mouldy crevices.
I could easily imagine the sound of un
earthly gVoans, the snapping of bats, the
hooting of owls and tho hollow rattle of drv
bones coming up from that truly wonderful
Passing beyond, where the mountains
seem to have baffled that molteu sea in
days gone by, the valley becomes broader
and tbe lava more scattered, being in ridges
and detached heap9, yet the scene is scarcely
less desolate than before, for there is only
sand and sage between the patches and
and belts of lava. Here is a stretch of
twenty miles without water. Winding
across tbe parched and sandy plain, feeling
scorched and nervous, suddenly we came
upon the brink of a river. I was forciblv
reminded. of the Styx, and looked for the
gent who is said to ply the ferry on that
gloomy stream.' It was Lost Rioer? and
indeed tber name seemed suggestive and
appropriate, for,, it appears without origin
or destiny. , it is, differently named, on the
maps, Guidons and Goodins river, but tbe
emigrants know' it onlyaaXorf River.- It
sinks' ia thV-ticini ty of the "Three 'Butts,1'
according- .to the: aisps; after flowing for
tweajy pr thirty, miles in a direction oppo
site to tbecours3-of Snake vriVer. Follow
ing" this river four or 'five 'miles, "the road
bears directly south' over a sandy plain 'for
IUHJ-IUUC0, wuu iu waver uxuept use .vary
small spring test writes' oat from the river.
Tfais is ioL eiqrj respect a, desert. Large
tracts on either pidejjf the road are covered
with lava of aaTmilajr jostur'e to that farther
West. '!! 3. itf ; J i
- I r. i .:;,I mmtm , , , , . r .
Ja-jo Horaee fjQoqdwisjjjjpf cHartJEoidJ
A ROMANTIC AFFAIR.
In the northern part of Hancock county,
Ohio, thero resided a young, good-looking,
intelligent widow, whose husband ditd iti
1860. Now this husband, who was very
considerably the senior of his wife, on his
death-bed, had exacted a prutni-e from her
that she would never marry again, and after
his death, his relatiyes managed to gobble
up his entire estate, leaving her not ouly a
widow but very poor. The aforesaid prom
ise she regretted in less than a year, for lo !
a young officer in the gallant 21st, from
the neighboring county of Wood, who had
known her before her marriage, renewed the
She would hare married him but for the
fatal promise, aud but for a remarkable
tender conscience, which rebuked her when
ever she thought of the matter.
So the matter stood until the battle of
Chickamauga. The young officer was bad-
I ly wounded, and was brought home to die.
lie made all his preparations, setting his
house in order completely, for the last bcene
of all his eventful history. He sent for the
widow und told her he desired but one
thing, and that was (o provide for her. He
knew that she was poor, aud he had no
property to leave her one thiug only he
could do. His widow would receive a pen
sion of thirty dollars a nnnth from govern
ment be would make her his widow.
She thought of the matter for soveral
hours and finally concluded to do it. True
would violate the letter of her promise, but
not its spirit ; and when she thought of the
good that the pension would do her, her
semphs vanished, and they were married.
Singular as it may seem, this marriage
bad a beneficial effect upon our woundod
hero. He showed signs of imoroveinent
immediately ; in fact, so rapid was his re
covery, that the ex widow began to think.
in the course of three or four days, that
the hope of his pension was growing faint,
and well she might, for in a week he was
walking about, aud in a few days he started
for his regiment, leaving a wife behind him
who wept bitterly at the parting.
Some say that the gallant officer was not
wounded at all that the whole affair was a
deception, and advised the deceived woman
to sue for a divorce, but she thought not.
She did not believe there was any deception.
She bad done justice to the memory of her
deceased husband he only proposed mar
riage to benefit her in his recovery she
recognized tbe hand of Providence and was
disposed to submit thereto.
WHICH SHALL ITU!
The Richmond Inquirer is probably the
highest authority in the rebel Confederacy.
Theollowing are its terms of conciliation:
" This Confederacy, or the Yankee na
tion, one or the other, goes down goo
down to perdition. We al know by this
time the fata in store for up, if.-wersuccunib.
As surely as we completely ruin, their ar
mies and without that there is no peace
nor trace at all so surely shallfwe make
them pay our war debt, tlcough ice tcriny it
out of their hearts'
Nobody can reasonably complain that
this isn't outspoken enough. It is plainly
and directly to the point. It is just and
true. There can be no rational doubt about
it. Tbe Federal Government and the Con
federate Government cannot co-exis. One
or tbe other goes down to perdition, and
the ouly question i, ichich. On both sides
it ii a mortal conflict a struggle for, life.
The warring Governments are in the condi
tion of two shipwrecked men upon a, plank
that can save but one. Strength, physical
strength, must decide which shall. live and
The Richmond organ tells us that, if the
rebellion succeed, the Federal States, will
be forced to pay the rebel war debt, though
it be wrung out of their hearts. Oh, yes,
if the counsels of the secessionists were to
be adopted, thcu the rebel government with
all its hosts iu the field, would seize Ken
tucky and Missouri and Western Virginia,
and any desirable portions of Ohio, Indiana,
Illinois, and Pennsylvania, dictate whatever
peace it pleased from whatever point it
pleased, and wring the payment of the
rebel war debt and a thousand other enorm
ous payments out of the quivering heart of
I the States that now uphold the hederal
Lot not our people, then, for one moment
forget that this is not, on their part, a
struggle prompted by vanity, or resentment,
or rivalry, or rage. No, it is a death gragt
ple. One of the grappling powers sinks so
political perdition. But, if the Federal
Government prove victorious and. a wis
and proper use be made of the ictor.y, the
Southern people, although their Cuitfedera
cy must perish politically, will dhrttre aa
many and as great blessings from its.-r.GauU.
as any portion of the continent.
THE SUN OF AUSTEBLITZ.
On the 2d day of December, 1805, rose
the " Sun of Austerlitz." Its light revealed
to Napoleon the certainty of the Brand
victory of that day. His forces consisted
of seventy-five thousand men, occupying a
semi-circle of heights. 1 be allied Austrian
and Russian army, ninety-six thousand
strong, bad held, twenty-four hours pre
vious, a position equally strong on the
heights of Protzen, but by a skillful man
oeuvre Napoleon bad induced them to be
lieve he feared a battle, and now at break
of day be beheld their army, like a huge
boa, having unwound its coil, trailing its
slow ponderous length around its front, in
order to attack his right wing.
Tbe French army saw as with its leader's
eye, the blunder of the allies. The length
of their lines was exposed, while Napoleon,
from his semi-circle could launch one of the
spokes of his power to attack them in any
or all quarters. His Generals were eager
to oegin. r
" Wait twenty minutes," said Napoleon ;
" when the enemy is making a false move
they must not be interrupted."
Tbe twenty minutes elapsed, the move
ment was complete, tbe blunder irretrievable.-
Then Napoleon mounted his horse
and said to bis troops:
" Soldiers, to-day we will finish the campaign."
At tbe same time the order of attack was
given, and tbe mighty, livjng anaconda was
cut to pieces. The Russians, after suffer
ing great slaughter, were retreating across
the frozen lakes. Napoleon rode along tbe
line and shouted:
" Engulpb them ! engulph them !"
1 be artillerists elevated their pieces, and
by dropping their balls from a height uooo
the ice, broke it up, and overwhelmed the
This was Napoleon's greatest victory,
and most brilliant stroke of genius. After
ward, on the eve of any battle, be bad only
to' remind the soldiers that the sun of Aus
terlitz would look down upon their actions,
to inspire them with the most enthusiastic
, The prestige of some' such achievement
is a highly necessary stimulant to the bra
very ojftroepi It inspires them with con
fidenctrra 'their own prowess, pride in their
leader, and a sublime and haughty jay in
the certainty of victory over his enemy.
faaT The haC was passed around in a cer
tain congregation for tbe purpose of taxing
up a collection. After it had made the cir
cuit of the church it was handed to the I
minister5jwbo by tbe way, had exchanged
pulpits with the regular Treacher. Ila in.
' verted tbe bat over tb,pulpitcushibn and
hook jit, Jthat iu eipptiqeWmigh't be known,
"Fv "." "5 "icr lirff nr ia i1 t.,?o'?JF VK fP w Vf a" veiliufi e ?af wu mmu ia raiea oi
ufjMerrMl$xcIaimedjr with great fervor. ' , partial. excu4e, and the'
taaj jsojts aea.at i isanK. tfod that r Vdf back my hat of Kollins-fromstne service of .
-- ",;c? 4isj vli 'rr0D1 tn" COBgregatioo;-' '- . J went. AT K Inifrptafct.
BOX TRICK-A SWINDLE.
Last winter a mau by tbe uame of Car
ney, an honest countryman, quietly passing
on his way, was accosted by a hurley fellow
iu the street, who held in his hand a unique
box, with numerous drawers. Tho box
man's name was Legate ; aud, after exhib
iting the rare curiosity, he showed him a
drawer with a p-iper marked " Senatorship"
on it opening and re-opening it, exclaim
ing, alternately, u now you see it and bow
you don't." Carney wai puzzled. Mc
Dowell appeared and offered to bet a hun
dred thousand dollars that he could uaravel
the myttery, but had unfortunately left his
pocket-book at home, aud requested neigh
bor Carney to leud him the funds. Open
ing it two or three times to show him now
it could be done, aud offering to- give Car
ney all the honors and take all the money
himself, Carney " shelled out" the money.
Just then Sam Wood stepped up, and was
appointed to hold the stakes. Lust week;
at Topeka, Caruey discovered that thu
" Seuatorship" had never been in the box,
and indignantly threw the empty box iu
the fice of the Sharpies Sam Wojd fled
to Council Grove, while Legate escaped
through Lawrence in the direction of Leav
enworth, aud McDowell has not since been
heard from. The people pronounced it a
Fraud, and expect to mete out merited pun
isbmeut ou the first Tuesday in November
uext, while poor Carney has retired, to la
ment of the folly of listening to the adher
ents of box tricksters and political gamblers,.
Thorough. For perfect insight into tbe
essence of the slave-system, commend aa
to Gen. Butler. A colored lady, sent oat
by the American Missionary Association aa
n teacher to the freed people, on ber way
from Baltimore to Fortress Monroe, though
in company with a white gentleman and
lady on the same errand, was compcUed to
take her meals' apart from them and other
first-class passengers on account of her
complexion ; and both bdo and ber frienda
were made the objects of gratuitous insalt
by one Rollins, a mail-agent, who encour
aged the clerk of tbe boat in his behavior.
On arriving at tbe Fortress, the matter was
brought before Gen. Butler, and the follow
ing is a part of the colloquy ;
The General to Mr. Wilson. "When.
John or Susan traveled with master orsais
trea?, they could stay in the saloon or sleep,
in the same state-room, could they sot ?"
Gen. Well now. Lshould like to asar
one more-question : Which do yoa consider
in tbe highest state of civilization, the slave
in-bis chains, of tbaTree person of coler?"
Wilson, I do not know I guess I
thin If well, I suppose, rthe free persoa."
" Geo. You- admit, ibea, the fret smb.
Well, all I want ia that tbe free Baa shall
have all tbe rights that the slave once aa-
joyed; they thall sit in the saloons, ocamy
staterooms, and go to the firt table if they
Tbe ' result was aa adraoaitiea af taa
tbe boat foci