The mountain Democrat. [volume], September 05, 1863, Image 1

About The mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1863-1943

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
VOLUME X. I
TIBS
PUBLISHED IVEBY SATURDAY MOBSISG, BY
W ZOXHI * J N R
.. w.wwico, ;• *• ' AWV ** T
Mini -fftHUiT m »of*»«-0»i Year, $5; 81* Month*,
RRmih" u IB; ©ve Month (payable to the Cor
rt5), M mu; Slagle Copie*, 1*4 <*eot*.
adTBBTISIHO—On* 3qo*r*. of 10 live*, first Insertion. $3;
!iI nWvv.lln-e«k>e. $1 ••; B**ia«*Cord.. of Ifllloe*
TIL .ear, $?ft; R»Imn Cord*, of 10 llooo or Ion.
|L Boaifei. $10. A Hborol dtsoeant will bo mode o* the
aboro r%m for yearly ood qoorteriy advertisement* which
osvooO om oqonre.
JOB PB1ETIKQ —Owr Offo* I* replete with oil the modern |
i HDr orM*«nU for the boat, cheat and **tip execution or
•Terr style of PEINTIMO. aoeh o* Booh*. Psmphle**. Brief*, j
ifaalhHW. Clmlir*. BaHTleket*. Programme*. Cct-
Aigealeo of Sleek or Deposit. Billheads. Cheek*. Receipt*,
Cold*. LoheN, et*., is plolo or foney ooiored lok*.
icBTIflll* BLARES.—AIMatU*. Undertaking* ond Writaof
Attwshmeot, voder the wow low, for ra'eat th<* Office: ol*o,
Btooh Doolorodew* of Hit mi.fht mo»t convenient form
In mo. Jo*t printed, o complete form of klVKUi J)KKD.
AIM, o boontifttlljr-executed MABRIAOK CKETIPlCATB
L P. PISHES. So. 1T14 Wo*blngton street. oppo*ite Mogolre*
Opero Home. Is the only ootheriaed Agent for the MOUNTAIN
DEMOCRAT, In the city of Man Prancl*co. All order* for
the Toper or Adrertlsing left with hUo will be promptly at
tMdril*.
S'. H. BROWS I* the authorised Agent of the DEMOCRAT ot
flwi Win** Order* for the paper, odrertiiiag, or for job
work, left with him. will be promptly attended to.
CHA8 P. JACKSON I* the authoriied Agent of the MOCK
t Al* DEMOCRAT at El Ilorodo. Order* left with him will
be promptly Attended to.
a j ridLKMAN 1* our avthoriied agent at Sacramento —
All order* for advertising, (U., left with him will rweite im
mediate otteotloo.
A. U. L. DIAS I* ogewt for the Dbmocbat ot Vlrgioio City,
Serodo Territory.
"OL. WM. ESOX Ueor ovtboriied ogeot At Plot.—
All order* given him for the Dcmocrot will be proooptly At
leaded to.
Office, «b Coloms Street.
professional Cartis, Etc.
BENJ. SHERWOOD,
ATTORN SY-AT-LAW,
PlarerTlIle, n Dorado County, California.
Office —Dorsey's Building (up-stalr»), Main at.
• [maStr J
THOS. J. OROON,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
El Dorado, El Dorado County. (tnalT
F. A. HOBIfBLOWER,
attorney and counsellor at law,
Will prattler In all thr Court* of the llth Judicial
District. OFFICE—At Pilot Hill, El Dorado Coun
ty. mayl7-3fn
8. W. Rannaasna, t»an K. Wnxtsws.
SANDERSON A WILLIAMS,
ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW.
Office—Douglas*' Buildina. neat doer to thr Cary
Hou«e, Main street, Placer.ille. dec 6
O. W. GORDON,
ATTORNEY- AT -LAW,
Virginia City, N. T Office in Collin*’ Building.
B.itrert. (novi»
A. C. PEARLE,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
Office in Dougina' Building (upstairs), Main aireet,
P.a.crvillc.
lebi* 8m* -
joaa utai, H. c. (Loaa.
HUME A SLOSS,
A T T O R N K V S - A T - I. A W,
Office in City Block, PLcerville.
Will practice I.aa in the Court* of El Dorado ind
adjoining Count ir*—in the Supreme Court, and the
Court* of Ctak Territory . uiltf
O. D. HALL, O- YALE,
/YtierrrtVfr, iit
Practice l.aw in all the Court* uf Utah.
Office*, at Car*on and Virginia City. jrJO-lf
M. K. SHEARER,
ATTORNEY AND COUN8ELLOR-AT-LAW, AND
NOTARY PUBLIC,
ffl-Office, at Reaidenre. Main street, three
i-«r» at.,*. Bedford Atenur, Placer* tile. auiu
, , E. B. CARSON,
NOTARY PUBLIC AND CONVEYANCER,
watt
Commissioner of Deeds for Nevada
Territory,
Offica In the Court llouae, Placerrllle.
[norltf)
DR. L 8. TITUS.
Office—Piffitoffice Block,up-*tair*. t»p!*l
■
S. HARRIS,
t'omer of Jiiti* Street ond Ike FIumo,
PLACER VILLI,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN
lUvaii Cigars, Tobacco, Books, Sta
tionery, Cutlery, Playing Cards,
Yankee Notions, Fruits, Green
aud Dried, Nuts and Caudles,
AT EAR PSAECISCO PRiCES.
AUn. receive* by every 8t**mn:er the Utrst Atlantic
and European Xew*panerf, Mayaiin*-* and IVrmdi
cala, aud all lh« WEEKLY CALIFORNIA NEWSPA
PER* and MAGAZINES. July-4
PLAZA BOOK STORE,
PLACER VILLR,
lisa Juat received a splendid aaaortment of
Standard and Miscellaneous Works,
STATIONERY, SCHOOL BOOKS,
OIPT BOOEA, ALBUMS, CCTLEST,
TOTE, GOLD PKXS, VIOLIEE,
GUITARS, ACCORDEONS, MLJir BOOCS,
ROMAS 8TRIV0R, ICTC., Eli.'.,
SeWcUMk «*E|»reaaly for UmCouatry Trsds, sod aeiling
st freatlj reduced rates. Also,
AOBNTB
For 8scramento Union, Alts Californis, Bulletin,
Mirror, otc.
NEWSPAPERS AMD PERIODICALS
Kept constantly ou hand, and sold unusually low.
july4 B. 8. HERNANDEZ.
PLAZA BOOK STORE.
R. S. HERVAKDEZ
HAVING reoelged a large stock of SCHOOL
BOOKS, offer* them at the foltovlng re
d pt-ice*:
B argent's 1st Reader A 37 X
“ 2d « 90
“ 3d •• 75
’• 4 th « 1 00
" 6th « 1 25
Robinson's Elementary Algebra 1 25
Thompson’s Practical Arithmetic 75
Parker’s Philosophy 1 50
Wilson’s U. 8. Hist., Illustrated... 150
‘And all other School Book! at SAN FRANCISCO
PRICES. julyttf
A. H. REID’S
LIVERY AND PEED STABLE,
fa the rear of tha Old Round Tent,
MAIN STREET. PLAOERVILLE.
THE Uaderalgned would respectfully
. public that they can at ail
inform the pa
* timet obtain at hit establishment the
.eery beat of driving teams and aaddle
a, at tnv lowest rstee.
MT Horses boarded by the day, week, or month,
in nra most reasonable terms.
*I-Jn>
A. U. REIP.
THE MOUNTAIN DEMOCRAT*
PLACER VILLE, EL DORADO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1863.
\ Stobertisins.
PIONEER STAGE COMPANY,
PROM
; PLACERVILLE TO SACRAMENTO!
VIA
Diamond Spring *, K) Dorado, (Xarknille and
Fokom !
CARRYING THE U. S. MAILS
And Wells, Fargo A Co’s Express.
COACHES* leave Placerville daily in time to con
nect with the cars of the Sacramento Valley
Railroad to Secramento. Returning,
Leave Folsom on the arrival of the morning train
from Sacramento.
Also, leave Placer\ille daily for Virginia Citv.via
Strawberry, Van Syckle-'s, Genoa, Carson City,Silver
City and Gold Hill.
None but gentlemanly and eaperlenced dri
vers are employed.
•% Passengers registering their names will be
called for in any part of the city.
OFF1CFS—At the Cary House, and at the Nevada
House, t'p|»er Placerville.
LOUIS McLAXK A CO.,
Proprietors.
TIIF.0 P. TRACY, Ageit.
Placerville, October 4lh, 18C2.
Sacramento Valley Railroad and f ac
ramento, Placer and Nevada R. R
.^y w sf r;
I, ''ROM RACRAMRNTO TO AITiritN STATION
IN TWO IIOCRS.—-On and after Octolrer 15th
the paMenger oars of the above nauied roads will bt
run as follow*:
CP THAIS
Will leave Sarrarm nto at 1 and 4 p. M.
Leave Folsom at a. m., and 5\ p. m.
DOWS TRAINS
Leave Auburn Station at f. and lnj$ a. m.
Leave Folsom at 7 a. m., 12 M., and ft)* p. m.
ON SUNDAY one train only, leaving Sacramento
at a. m., and Auburn Station at in# a. u.
The 6Sf d. w. and 4 p. m. trains running through to J
Auburn Station.
Passengers for Placerville and Carson Valley will
take stages, ai *1 f<*r Lincoln, change cars, at Folsom,
on the arrival of the C\ a. m. train, and those for '
Auburn Station retain their seats.
Suitable arrangements having been made for th<* j
reception of freight at Auburn Station, it will here
after be received at for that |»oint. For
rata-* -f t• -11 m|»|.1v at the office.
TICKET OFFICE, opposite the cars, on ;
Front street, under the M i.at Cheer House.
decPl J. |». KolllNSO.N, Sup’t.
rarn uraot*. hknmy hamil.
PEOPLE'S MARKET!
Opposite I.anderker's Store, Main *f . Placerville
HUNGER 1 1IAME1 PROPRIETORS.
FRF.SII MEATS, ..fall
kind*. at wiiolesale or retail, at
as l**w rat*--* .«•« at any other mar
ket in the city.
nov22
n\E ARTS!
Vl.AKGK A M> CHOICE ASSORTMENT
of flu- ENGRAVINGS, LITHOGRAPH*. PHD
TOG lt \ IMIS, framed and unframed besides a very
c<»m|*U-te rt.H'k ’of tir.Irate MATLK1AI.S for DRAW
1NO AND PAINTING: also an immense variety of i
STCDIFc. PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS, CARTES DL
VISIT!., Ac., A*-., Ac.
uoos A WUNDERLICH,
D -Dot of Goujtel A Co., 21S Montgomery, street,
auglu.siml (Russ Biuk) Sun Francis**).
SELLING OFF!
To Close Out Business !
A . II A A S
Is telling off his
MAGNIFICENT ASSORTMENT j
. — or —
Fancy and Staple Dry Goods! •
Of the Latest Styles and of Every Description
— ALSO, —
CARPETINGS, OIL CLOTHS, ETC.
- .1 -
Greatly Reduced Prices!
Many articles BELOW COST, to close out busines.- j
in this City.
|
Tlie Ladles arc Invited to Call and
Examine for Tlieinaelvea.
A. HAAS,
july25 Main st., neur the PLtsa.
J. 3. CL’LLEN,
Watchmaker and Jeweler!
(AT TUB OLD STAND Op J. W. BILLET.)
ON THE PLAZA. PLACERVILLF
J. J. CULLEN having taken the
/.Id stand of Mr. SKELEY, on the
(Plata, (adjoining O'Donnell's Then
_ _ ter,) respectfully announces to the
nubile that he is prepared to repair or regulate j
Watches and
MANUFACTURE JEWELRY!
Of every description, at short notice, and in the
best style.
Diamond Work, Enameling, Chasing,
ENGRAVING. SEAL (TTllSG, DIE-SINKING and
GILDING snd SILVERING done in the best style of
the art and at the shortest notice.
Work done promptly ami delivered at the
time specified.
Mr. CULLEN is agent for the sale of the
BAY STATE SEWING MACHINE!
The simplest, cheapest and best Sewing Machine now
in use.
ALSO, GUNS >11 Til IMG, in general.
.This department will be under the supervis
ion of FRANX BECK.KART, for-
Imerly of Coloina. All jobs done promptly
anu at reasonable prices. aug2
~W. M. BRADSHAW,
fifil
— DEALEB I» -*•
BOOKS’, STATIONERY,
VARIETIES.
CIGARS AND TOBACCO,
Postofflce Block, Main Street,
PLACERVILLE.
ALSO—Agent for all the leading European, Atlan
tlc and California Papers and Magaaines.
HP* NEW BOOKS received by every Steamer.
aug22 W. M. BRADSHAW.
FORSALE.
THE Property on Main 8treet, Placerville,
a few doors above thu Carr House, kimaui
as LONEY’B SALOON, trill be sold ut a Bargain.
For particulars, Inquire of
autfHtf F. H. HARMON.
!■«▼« Mid HomlCrarift.
BY AMY RANDOLPH.
"But why don’t you like him, Agatha?”
“ Oh-because P
What philosopher ever solved the mys
tery of this true woman’s reason ? "fee
cause" means ten thousand things that
pretty, dimpled lips don’t choose to put
into shape— it means they know why per
fectly well themselves, but won’t tell;
and not all the coaxing of curiosity can
get it out of them.
And so pretty igvtha J/ilne played
with a knot of scarlet roses, whose velvet
petals glowed in her belt ribbon, and lift
ed up her soft hazel-brown eyes with a
provoking!}- absent, unconscious look.
"But, Agatha,” pursued Ruth Ellen
wood, stopping for a moment in her occu
pation ol braiding and arranging Aga
tha's beautiful waves of auburn-gold
: hair, “I’m sure I’ve heard you say, again
I and again, he was such a pleasant part
; ner at balls and parties, and—oh Agatha,
don't jerk your head so, or I shall have
to braid all these strands over again.”
"Nonsense—that’s no test at all!” said
Agatha, pettishly, the peach like crimson
: mounting her cheek ; what can you tell
about a young man, from a mere ball
room acquaintance? Any one can be
agreeable enough to hold your buquet, or
bring you an ice-cream ; that is, if he
knows enough not to tread on your toes
in the polka, nor to step on your bounces
in a promenade.”
“I know it," said Ruth, -‘blit the ques
tion is"—
"But the question is," interrupted the
imperious young beauty, “how do I
know that Mr. Fitz Aubvn, silver-tongued
as he Is to me, with his homage and com
pliments, don't go home and swear at his
mother ami sisters? How do I know
that Mr. Jennings, who has the whole
dictionary at his finger-ends, docs not
cheat his landlady? What means have
I of ascertaining that young St. Simons,
who is such a graceful waltzer and agree
able small talker, does not finish his even
ings in a drinking saloon ? Oh, Ruth
we hare tests for ascertaining spu ious
dollars and counterfeit bank notes, but
how on earth are we to know a counter
feit husband, until he is tied to our un
lucky apron-strings for life?"
She laughed as she sprang up to look
for her bonnet, but the long eye-lashes 1
drooped low with a very suspicious mois
tute.
"Well, said Ruth, caressingly patting
Agatha's tiny hand, “ I am very, very
thankful that Providence didn't make me
a beauty a* d an heiress, since it has a
tendency to awake suspicion and distrust.
But, Agatha, in spite of all you have
said, I feel firmly convinced thut Charles
Stanton i» a nohlc fellow."
"Very likely,” said Agatha lightly ;
“but here is Fitz Aubyn, with those
splendid white horses ol his, so give me
my shawl.''
" And w hither are your footsteps to be
din cled to day
“Oh we are going to that private view
of pictures in street, you know."
And Agatha swept out of the room
with the imperial port of a young queen.
The white lustre of moonlight pouring
down through the circular dome of the
frosted glass, gave a life-like glow to the
superb paintings whose gilded frames lit
erally covered the w alls of that vast suite
of apartments. Here and there groups
of absorbed dilettanti moved with sub
dued whispers and brandished opera
glasses, as if it w ere a foi bidden thing to
speak above one’s breath in the presence
of those fair landscapes and classic scenes
from history's page.
Directly in front of one of the Gnest i
woiks of art stood a pair who had un
consciously been tile object of many a
curious glance and whispered observation
of the other sight seers—a tall, stylish
looking young man, with an old lady
leaning on his arm, whose antique dress
of snuff colored bombazine and oddly
shaped beaver bonnet occasioned a good
many covert smiles and half concealed
titters from the various observers.
by tile w ay, Miss Milne," said Fitz
Aubyn, as, in their progress round the ,
rooms, this couple gradually came in
view, “ you haven’t seen the greatest cu
riosity of all, yet.”
“Where?” said Agatha, raising her
opera glass.
" You are mistaken—it don’t hang on
tiie walls," returned Fitz Aubyn, laugh
ing. Look a little nearer the earth, if
you want to sec Stanton and his lussil
aunt."
Agatha turned her head accordingly,
without remark—she smiled a little, how
ever, which was all that Fitz Aubyn
wanted.
"Should you suppose any mortal youth
would have tla- courage to bring such a
last-century specimen to a place like this,
where he might know he would meet all
hts fashionable acquaintances ? Upon
my word, I believe he'll take her to the
opera next! See him carrying her mo
rocco bag and c-<tto" umbrella! Don’t
lie remind you of Dou Quixote in bis
youthful days?"
“ Probably she has money to leave one
of these days," said Agatha, the distrust
ful element uppermost in her mind for
the moment.
“Not a red cent I know, for I've in
quired. She is ‘in reduced circumsttkn- |
ces’—that’s the term, I believe - but
Stanton is very fond of her, nevertheless.
She lias come up to town from the back-!
woods for a few days, and”—
He paus.d abruptly as the very pair I
in question approached, still absorbed in
picture gazing.
“ My dear Charles/' said the old lady,
at length, “you cannot imagine what a
treat this is "to me—I have not !
pictures as these since I was a child.
How thoughtful of you to bring me here." .
“ I knew you would enjoy it, aunt."
“ And you are not ashamed of your
old-fashioned relative among these gay
young people ?"
" On the contrary, dear aunt, I am as
proud as a monarch while you are lean
ing on my arm."
Agatha heard it all, and she also heard
him answer, in reply to the gay challenge
of some companion : —
“ Thank you, but don’t reckon upon
me us one of your party at the opera this
evening. I am going with my aunt, who
is passionately foiid of music, so you must
excuse mo. for once."
“ I told you so!" said Fitz Aubyn, in
a sotto voce tone, shrugging bis shout
ders. “Did you ever see such i fellow as
Stanton r” .
"Never," was Agatha’s reply, but it
was so emphatically spoken that Fitz
Aubyn started.
And that night, when the courted
’beauty was brushing out her luxuriant
hair, she paused many a time and fell in
to a thoughtful revery.
“ Moral courage 1” she murmured to
herself. “ I have somewhere read that it
is nobler far than yie iron resolution
which makes men reckless in battle. 1
wonder"—
And there she stopped resolutely.
What a glorious, bracing New Year’s
Day it was ! There had been just snow
enough in the night to form a white glis
tening coat over everything, and afford
an excellent excuse for the inerry sleighs
that darted hither and thither with
streaming furs and jingling bells. All the
fashionable world was astir—the gentle
men busily consulting their interminable
lists of calls, and the ladies putting the
last touches to their gorgeous toilettes.
There were not many upon that day
who received more adulation than Agatha
Milne, os she stood like a young empress
in her splendid drawing-rooms, every
mirror flashing back her loveliness. Her
dress was very simple—pink silk, edged
around the shoulders with snowy ermine
and long sprays of jessamine drooping
from her hair ; yet she knew that she had
never been so beautiful as now, ns she
listened with languid smiles to the com
pliments showered upon her. It was
nothing new.
The gilded chandeliers had been lighted
and the jewelled fingers of the tiny ala
baster clock on the mantel pointed to a
late hour when the peal of the door bell
announced a new incursion of guests, and
M. Fitz Aubyn entered, surrounded by a
gay party of young men.
“Good evening, Miss Milne; surely I
am not too late to wish you the happiest
of all imaginable New Years I Whom do
you suppose I saw steering in the direc
tion of your hospitable mansion just now?
O, here he comes to speak for himself—
the Chevalier Charley Stanton!”
Agatha turned calmly to welcome the
new comer, and the Keenest eye could
scarcely have discerned the deeper shade
of color that glowed on her delicate cheek,
as he quietly came forward to greet her.
“Fill your glasses, gentlemen," ex
claimed Fitz Aubyn, bolding high above
bis bead a tiny chalice of engraven Bohe
mian glass, brimming with crimson wine,
*' and let us drink to the health of our
fair hostess, Miss Agatha Milne."
The impromptu toast was received with
general acclamations of satisfaction, and
Fitz Aubyn glanced around a second time
to see if all had followed his injunctions,
ere he touched his lips to the glass.
“ Come, Stanton, no lack of chivalry
here ; where's your glass ?”
“I will drink Miss Milne’s health in
clear iced water with the greatest pleas
ure,” said Stanton, smiling; "but never
touch wine.”
"Never touch wine! and pray, why
not?”
" Because it is against my principles,”
said Stanton, with quiet firmness.
Fitz Aubyn curled his lips in contemp
tuous silence, that was several degrees
harder when a young man leaped forward
to interpose his word.
" Offer it to him yourself. Miss Milne ;
surely he cannot he so lost to all sense of
gallantry as to refuse it from your fair
hand.'*
Agatha had grown very pale, but with
out speaking she tilled one of the tiny
goblets, and held it towards Charles Stan
ton. "Will you not take it from me?"
Stanton looked at her wiih calm gravity.
"Miss Milne, I should be a coward in
deed did I allow your persuasions to
sway me from the fixed principles which
are the guiding stars of my whole life.”
lie bowed and withdrew. The glass
fell from Agatha’s hand, and shivered in
to a thousand sparkling fragments; she
hit her scarlet lip until the blood started,
with a str inge sympathetic thrill of exul
tation. llud he wavered for an instant in
his determination, she would have de
spised him.
“ A very poor investment, those horses
of mine, and all this behavior ula good
boy in story books,” muttered Fitz Au
byn, about four weeks subsequently, as
he strode into the brilliantly illuminated
saloons of the Club House. “Here, wai
ter, a glass of brandy and water—quick !"
" What's the matter, Fitjt ? You look
as black as a thunder cloud,” observed a
by-slander, who was leaning against a
marble pillar and picking his truth in a
most leisurely and cpicurian manner.
•' The matter ? Do you remember that
magnificent Agatha Mime, the Queen of
all the Beauties?”
“ Ul course l do; she hasn’t lost her
wits nor her property, I hope?”
" No; but I've lost the latter item
pretty effectually. Who do you suppose
she is going to marry ?”
“ I am sure I cannot guess. Do tell
your news at once, and don't keep a fel
low in suspense in this sort of way."
“ Well, she is going to become Mrs.
Charley Stanton ; actually g'-ing to mar
ry a man with a fossil aunt, and princi
ples that wont allow him to drink a glass
of wine! Bah 1 the humbug that pusses
current in this world.”
" I could nave prophesied as much be
fore, ray dear hoy, if you would only
have done me the honor to listen to me,”
observed the other, coolly unfolding tile
newspaper, so as to get at the inside col
umns. " You gay, dashing young fellows
are all very well as long as a girl wants
to amuse herself; but when it comes to a
life-long question, she’s apt to prefer a
safe man for her husband.”
Fitz Aubyn groaned deeply, but con
sidered his position too precarious to be
worth arguing.
Meanwhile little Ruth Ellenwood was
as busy as a bee working at her cousin's
wedding robe of spotless white satin, and
asking ten thousand questions, the final
of which always was : —
“ But, Agatha, you never would tell
me why you didn’t like him, and now
you are just as bad. Tell me that's a
darling, why you changed your mind ?"
And Agatha only laughed and crim
soned, and made the same old provoking
answer: —“Oh—because !"
♦-»-
An English writer says of the militia of
Lonbon, that it was dangerous to make
the rear rank take close order, for fear it
would pick the pockets of the front rank.
Anecdote* or B*(llil> HI«Awoym*n.
It was at a dinner fcr ..
ber, 1819, that Sir i nomas asked Mr.
S—th, the family lawyer, whether his
grandfather bad not been once stopped on
Finchley Common under rather peculiar
circumstances.
“Yes, Sir Thomas” said Mr. S—th.
“ My grandfather was a land agent, em
ployed by very many persons of rank and
quality. He had engagements in most
parts of England, and it suited him better
to travel in his own gig than in the dawd
ling, rumbling stage coach of 1787.
“ It was not unusual at that time for
young spendthrifts and gamesters occa
sionally to ‘take the road’ to replenish
their empty pockets, and more than one
sprig of an old, lime honored trunk has
been secretly lopped off and transferred to
the plantations for having told a true man
to stand and deliver.
“One night my grandfather journied
towards London across Finchley Com
mon, then a wide barren heath, with
scarcely a dwelling near it, save a roadside
inn, the ‘Baldfaced Stag.’
“ There were a few aged hawthorn trees
scattered about the common, occasionally
affording shelter to the belated and storm
o’ertaken traveler. At a moment when
the sky was at its cloudiest, two well
mounted men rode from the shadow of one
of those thorns, and took their stations
according to the approved mode of high
waymen, one nian at my grandfather’s
horse’s head, whilst the other curtly re
quested his watch and money. The clouds
passed on, and the moonlight revealed the
bright barrel of a pistol in close proximi
ty to my granddad's head. Again all was
darkness. Now my honored father was
not tlie man to be robbed without a strug
gle. and calculating upon such a contin
gency as the present, he always carried a
short bludgeon under the seat of his gig
—being of opinion that a pistol might
hang fire, or miss its mark, and then there
would be an end of his power of re-ist
ance. Under pretence of complying with
the request of the robber, he stooped
down for his trusty bludgeon, and, as he
did so, the clouds passed on, and the
moonlight fell full upou his face.
“ Mr. S—th !” exclaimed the mau with
the pistol.
“ Yes,” replied my grandfather, coolly
feeling for his weapon.
“ uood night, sir,” said the highway
i man, and after whispering to his compan
; ion, both men lode off at a canter, leaving
| granddad agreeably relieved and consider
i ably astonished. Yes, astonished, for he
j had recognized the voice as that of a gen
' tleman with whom he had been on terms
| of the closest intimacy. And to his dying
! day he never mentioned their names even
, to my grandmother, although she asked
j him in season and out of season. Ilis
| only answer was—
i “ They were gentlemen, and behaved to
I me like gentlemen; I therefore desire to
return the compliment.”
“Ah !" said Mr. N—r—th, “some of
those knights of the road were courteous
enough at times; but, generally speaking,
they were great blackguards, cowards and
brutes."
“My uncle Zachary,” said Mr. N—r—th
“ used to tell an adventure which occurred
to him. lie was very fond of racing, and
was known to bet considerable sums, and
to carry his money with him. On his
way to Doncaster w’ith a friend, he slop
ped at an inn where he was known and
invariably slopLon his way down, and was
annoyed to find that all the other decent
rooms were occupied by persons who, like
himself, were on their way to the faces.
So, there was nothing to be done but to
yield up his own comfortable quarters to
his friend, and content himself, as best he
could, in a garret. My uncle's friend was
a nuld, nervous man, who would as soon
thought of visiting Doncaster races with
out the protection of my uncle, as descen
ding the crater of Vesuvius. Before he
retired to rest it was his custom to look
under his bed, and in any cupboard that
might he in the room. lie went through
this examination on the night of my story,
and, all being satisfactory, my uncle’s
friend raked the coals well together in the
grate, extinguished his candle, and by the
light of the fire got into bed. Many per
sons cannot sleep in a strange bed,and my
uncle’s friend was one; so he lay awake
for some time, looking at an eight day
clock in one corner of his room. The
hands of the.elock, he had noticed, stood
at half past eight, and it was then eleven;
so, as the clock had stopped, my uncle’s
friend thought that he should expci iencc
no disturbance from that quarter. He
was mistaken, however, for he saw by the
firelight, which played upon the polished
surface of the clock case, the door com
municating with the weights and pendu
lum silently opened, and then a villainous
face peered out, the eyes glaring at my
uncle’s friend, whose breath for a moment
or two came thick and fast, to be followed
by a profuse perspiration. The danger,
however, was too near to admit of much
deliberation ; my uncle's friend jumped
out of bed, rushed to the clock, and se
cured his enemy within, bawling at the
same time, “Zachary—Zachary N —r —th!
Murder! Thieves! Zachary N—r—th!”
“ The imprisoned rogue made desperate
efforts to free himself, and the clock case
rocked about fearfully, but the situation
was in favor of virtue for once, and vice
met with its deserts. Assistance soon ar
rived, and from the interior of the clock
case (from which the weights and pendu
lum had been removed) a well-known di
minutive Doncaster tout was dragged to
light—the man afterwards confessing that
he knew my uncle Zachary always slept
in this particular room at race time, and
that he was sure to carry a large sum of
money with him. The incensed host and
his household consigned the miserable
little culprit to the horse-trough for nearly
a quarter of an hour, and then left him to
dry in the village cage. And that was
the end of the somewhat remarkable sto
ry.”
■ ■ ■ + . —
A Repkoof. —The Rev. Dr. McFarlane,
late of Erskine Church, Glasgow, and
now of London, having, in company,
boasted of what he had done in the way
of improving his congregation by miss
ionary and other operations, an old lady
who had been listening with much appa
rent interest to the enthusiastic diatribe
of the glowing divine, during a short lull
in the conversation, very quietly remark
ed, “ Eh, Doctor, but ye hae muckle need
to pray for humility.”—{Scotch Paper.
A boat PtllttBMI.
risronitlea” of All the
Y«*r Round, bu die following reoiarks’on
the morality of “ marked politeness”:
He who should draw out a code of po
lite manners, and bind himself to abide by
it, might render himself an intensely
agreeable member of society, but at some
sacrifice of genuineness and individuality
of character. To what would such a code
bind him ? It is part of the ideal of this
perfectly polite gentleman that he should
be “ armed sit all points,” t|iat he should
be, in one sense, beyond the reach of mis
fortune, or accident; that is to say, that
no single thing that could possibly hap
pen eftowhj h)ui rtrii serinwr, or
make him uncourteous even for a mo
ment He has,for instance, just received
from Messrs. Dobson & Co., in St. James
street, a very beautiful service of glass,
which, by some awkward movement,you,
his guest, manage to bring,with a mighty
crash, to the ground ; now at this crisis,
oar ideal' gentleman mast so utterly ig
nore the loss he has sustained that be is
to be wholly and solely occupied with the
question whether you have out your fin
gers, or been in any tray hurt by the bro
ken glass. Suppose even a more trying
case. Suppose you are staying in the
house of this ideal personage. Supposo
that he lends you one of his horses in or
der that you may take a little equestrian
exercise, that you let the animal down,
and bring him home—lie must be a valu
able horse, and a favorite of. his master's
—with his knees cut; whatever
our friend may, and must feel in his in
most soul at what has happened, it must
not find expression so much as in the
movement of a feature. His whole anx
iety must be about you. Are you hurt?
Were you thrown ? Are your nerves up
set ? • Are you shaken ? What will you
take ? James, take that horse round to
the stable, and send for Mr. Splint as
quickly as possible. That is all the no
tice taken of the accident itself.
This is the man of marked politness.—
The man of common politeuess says, “Oh
deaa, dear, how very unfortunate ! Dear,
dear, I shouldn't have minded it if it had
been one of the others, but—well, it can’t
be helped, I hope you wern't hurt your
self—now, you’re not to make yourself
unhappy, my dear fellow, about it, these
things will happen. James, lead that
horse around carefully, poor thing ; send
otr a messenger at once (or Mr. Splint,and
wait till I come round to the stables to
examine the exact extent of the mischief.
As to the man of excessive politeness,
he will not allude to tho horse at all.—
“ My dear friend,” he w ill say, “ how ex
ceedingly distressed I am to think that
you should meet with so unpleasant a
contretemps! I wouldn't have had you
run such a risk for the world. I am quite
sure you must have been hurt and terri
bly shaken. I insist upon seeing you to
your room, and—Henry, bring a glass of
Curacon at once, or brandy , would you
like brandy better now ?" and this excess
ively polite gentleman having expressed
himself thus, will presently retire to some
secret place, where he will give vent to
his feelings in a volley of strange oaths.
Cairo Donkey-Boy*.
The donkey-boys of Cairo, like nil the
recognized trades of that wonderful spec
imen of a city in a state of decay, are
governed by a sheikh, or head of the
guild, who witnessed their binding (liter
ally with a scarf,) and who is obliged to
produce them when the cadi or the pasha
requires. This sheikh, whom the boys
hold in no remarkable reverence, is paid
an annual salary by the government.
The cadi probably possesses a list of the
names of all the boys; but, for their char
acter, address and whereabouts, if known,
the civil magistrate refers to tho sheikh
of the Ueni llomar (or sons of the ass.)
He too, I beiieve, collects, or is answera
ble for, the annual tax, amounting to ten
shillings, that every boy pays the pasha.
I have known donkey-boys very faith
ful, civil, and useful. 1 have known
them also, lazy, insolent, and unbearable.
My friend Crosscut, the superanuated
military chaplain from Aden, took a don
key-boy last Kamadan to ride to Joseph's
Well, beyond the citadel. He stopped
often in the streets, as he rode through
them, now to cheapen a chibouk, now to
ask the price of aloe wood and gum ben
zoin at a perfumer’s. The boy wanted
him to go a quicker way, and not to wan
der through lonely by streets where there
was no crowd or bustle. Being told to
follow and not to talk, he swore “ by the
head of lloosan,” the Prophet’s grand
son, who is buried at Cairo, that he would
never again go with a Frank Howaga
(merchant) who knew Arabic. Sudden
ly he followed towards the Well, and
there fell asleep in a tomb while he was
kept waiting by Crosscut. Crosscut,
rather a sour and grizzly man, finding
him there on his return, left him asleep,
in order to punish him. The boy re
turned about four hours afterwards, pale
and frightened, lie declared he had been
searching for Crosscut ever since, think
ing he had not returned. He had at last
left his donkey and gone in search of him,
and had there been tired at by the Nubi
an sentinel for venturiug too near a pow
der magazine on the hill. Crosscut, to
tease the ill-conditioned lad, paid him only
half his due, upon which the boy threw
down the money, spat upon it, and con
signed Crosscut to the lowest pit of Ge
henna, in a long and appropriate oath.
Crosscut, after chewing the cud of this
revenge for the space of five and twenty
minutes, paTdTifm Hie TuTTSum, dismissed
him with Christian opprobrium, and lit
his two-and twentieth narghile!) bowl.
In a country where every carriage,
whether hack or private, is preceded by
a Nubian seis with a tight red scarf
round his waist, who runs before to clear
a road for you, with shouts and warning,
it is no wonder that the Cairo donkey
boys clamorously appeal to the public as
they run before your swift and dreaded
animal. They shout with mechanical
earnestness a long string of exhortations
and warnings to the foot passengSbs, such
as : •* Ilei, sheikh !—Hei, boy !—Ho, vir
gin !—Ho, old lady ! —Take care of your
foot—take care of your face—look out for
your arm—look out for yonr back!—Uei,
young man 1—Ho, O Pilgrim I—To the
right, 0 Howaga 1—Tothe-left, O SidiV-
Sbuunalak —Rumenek—Doghrea!”
These boys have latterly grown so
knowing and so intelligent, and have
picked up such a (air amount of English,
that they Lave become serious rivals to
yoti ore tamings ft fliy ina
key to iW vjWI^
donkey bimaeif, ran* all dsy,1kkea job
anywhere you like, and know* quite M
much about evert, place aa tbiwpian<
| and is more likely, indeed, to tafe you
! out of the beaten track. The result is,
that a fierce feud wages between the two
classes. ■* •
“ Berry bad people Cairo donkey-boys*
all outside people, tillage people,” says
Abool Hoosayn to me.
What to do f” says Achmed, the don -
key-boy. “Gentleman ask donkey-boy
name of mosque—Dragoman say, Tell
him don't know. What to do l”
The war has now reached soch a pitch
that it is said the dragomans intend legal
ly proceeding against the donkey-boy# at
the cadi’s court, where he who gives the
highest bribe is successful.—[All the
Year Round.
Lincoln on Arbitrary Arrests.—
Why, the monster positively argues that
the Constitution of the United States for
bids the arbitrary arrest of men only for
crimes, but it does not iorbid the arrest
and imprisonment of men charged with
no crime ! Monstrous as it seems, it is
even so. Here are his words of infamy :
“ But these provisions of the Conatitu'
tion have no application to the case we
have in hand, because the arrests com
plained of were not made for treason —
that is, not for the treason defined in the
Constitution, and upon the conviction of 1
which the punishment is death—nor yet
were they made to bold persona to answer
for any capital or otherwise infamous
crimes; nor were the proceedings follow
ing, in any constitutional or legal sense,
“criminal prosecutions." The arrests
were made on totally different grounds,
and the proceedings following accorded
with the grounds of the arrests*"
Caligula never sunk so low as this.—
Gentlemen arc snatched away by kidnap
pers in the night, consigned to damp, on
wholesome cells in the military prison of
Fort Lafayette, subject to the insults of
ex-Secretary Cameron’s baggtge smasher,
Wood, transformed into a Lieutenant of
the U. S. Army—put on rations unfit for
a negro, deprived of proper exercise and
decent accommodations for the necessi
ties of nature—and it is no violation of
the Constitution, because they are not
held to “ answer for any capital or other
wise infamous crimes.” The Constitu
tion, in the eyes of the Illinois pettifog
ger, who disgraces the exccutivo of the
Federal Administration, is for the protec
tion only of “ infamous" criminals. It
leaves honest men,charged with no crime,
at the arbitrary disposal of the President*
when that President is Abe Lincoln.
[Freeman’s Journal
«
A Cuts Trick. —A fashionably dressed
lady not long ago drove up in a handsome
private carriage to a well-known lunatic
asylum, situated a few miles from Paris,
and requested to see the proprietor. Her
wish being acceded to, she informed the
doctor that she desired to place her hus
band under his care, to see if a cruel ma
nia under which be labored, namely, that
he had lost a large number of jewels,
could not be removed. After some hesi
tation the doctor consented, and the lady*
on receiving his assurance, drove directly
to the first jewelers in Paris, and selected
jewelry to the value of several hundred
pounds. Requesting one of the shopmen
to go with her to procure the money for
the goods she had taken, she drove with
him to the insane asylum,and on arriving
there she was shown into a room. The
lady then sought the doctor, told him of
the arrival ot her husband, and getting
into her carriage again, drove rapidly
away. The poor fellow, after waiting and
waiting, grew impatient and violently
rang the bell. The doctor made his ap
pearance, end the young man, commenc
ing eagerly to enquire after the lady and
iiis jewels, was forced into a straight jack
et, the malady complained of, as the doc
tor imagined, making its appearance.—
lie was confined several days before the
lady’s ruse was discovered.
Value or Amusement. —The world must
be amused. It is entirely false reasoning
to suppose that any human being can de
vote himself exclusively to tabor of any
discription. It will not do. Rest will
not gire him adequate relief. He moat
enjoy himself, lie must laugh, sing,
dance, eat, drink, and be merry. He
must chat with his friends, exercise hia
mind ; n exciting gentle emotion, and hia
body in agreeable demonstrations of act
ivity. The constitution of the human
system demands this. It exacts variety
of iuflunces and motion. It will not re
main in health if it caunot obtain that
variety. Too much merriment affects it
as injuriously as too much sadness; too
much relaxation is as pernicious as none
at all. But, to the industrious toiler, the
sunshine of the heart is just as indispens
able as the material sunshine is to the
flowers; both soon pine away and die if
deprived of it
An English Bull.— The following is an
original idea, and shows that the English
are getting their stock to rival the Irish
in the bull line: A young man having
resolved to blow his brains out, and being
very anxious to have a Christian burial,
wrote the following letter and tnen com
mitted suicide: “I killed myself acci
dentally while playing with a pistoL t
hope’my body will be received into the
church.”
4
Abolition Pedigree. —Garrison’s Lib
erator begat the New York Tribune; and
the New York Tribune begat the irre
pressible conflict; and the irrepressible
conflict begat the raid of John Brown ;
and the raid of John Brown begat tbo
Chicago platform ; and the Chicago plat
form begat the Republican party ; but to
say what the Republican party begat
1 will not be tolerated in this depai4mrnt,’
and therefore we don’t believe it—‘[Lo
gan (Ohio) Gazette.
■ ■ « »< ,* '! • * ..
Swells.— Great tnen never swell, ft
is only the three cent individuals who are
salaried at the rate of two hundred dol
lars a year, and dine 1 on’ potatoes ebd
dried herring, who put on airs andAaShy
waistcoat*, swell, puB’"bIow, and frettetw
pearance. No discriminating person
need mistake the spurious tor thngeM
ine article.