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VOLUME VII. fountain democrat. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY OEI.WICJIt3 at JANUARY. ft. «. OILWICKf, «H. A. UKCAIT. Term»- Ili rari tbly in Advance ; Ou* y ear |5 00. Sit Month* tOO. Thr«« Mnrth* . I M. Single C.piii 10. Term* of Advertlaing: One *qnare. 10 lire». flr»t ti.«>.rt:on. . ... I 3 00 I <ch Sub*«quri»l ti. • rt; n I .VI Ilutir.rM Curii», «»f IO In ■» rr lr*«, 3*-.e year .. 2.0 fh) lltitmrM Card*. of 10 h? r* or 1< »•. three ti nntha 10 00 A liberal discount » 'il le ti. de on ili» ahr»»e rat*» for all yearly and quarterly advertueincn'.» which tiered •m square. THE MOUKTAITf DEMOCRAT Book anti 3ob griming Office ! I» replete with all the modern for the NEAT. CHEAP AND KA I*l II execution of r<m variety of PBINTINC—«n»h a* Ho*ik«. Pamphlet*. Unef*. Potter*. If andhi'.i*. I ircuSar#, Ball Ticket», I’ro framoir», Certificate» of Stock or Depo»it, Billhead», beck». Receipt*, fard*, Label*, etc., cither in plain or fancy colored int». of •'e i»n (o\'*n>i Strut /'lurgrriUe L. P. FISHER. N 171 W««h>n(tno sire**. oppof'Ur Mi.’ iu't Oy r a U-uc. : i tltf '.n'y f«i Agent for t>.r M »CJ*TA > PAM* '.T. « : ::j • e i ity r/ >« r, Kr.m claco. All «t-It» r r th* •» »!• r or aire rt.aii.f left with h;m. will be prompt.j a:t-i;d»-'i : ; J. C. KERLEY I* *j:‘ ir 4to receive moaty* 4m ih*» 01 ce. T. 8. DORSEY *s sa*i. t 1 r- sMIm auh«er.p tlfr.e anti rect'.vr moticrs fur tilt* M "«ir» v I>a* .p.-sat W. T. OT DBS • 1». v ac!.mi u.i Ar: r.l c f lh? Di.m- OC’t-iT at <s«t.r/e! .in *»!?•*•• *r ’ r n»t *-r, ruivrrtisiiig 01 ;o'» work. i*.l w h 111, *he ; r'ij.tly attended to^ CHAS. P. JACKSON *• »>« autl oii**.l A lli« >!'•»•{» \■ s !'»<■► ,m r’ 1 . D.»r*io. o.u**is w;S M«n «r,ll be alteu-vd to. I HARVEY LEE. ATT OItN F. Y • A T 1. A *V . I* 1 —ivi K. Cel •f Ofil.e m iMigh.es A Ulne» l»«i iing. Ma ti >t»eei 1( GEO PEN. JOHNSTON. ATTORNIA AT I \W. Ofice In 1) I H i.#«* flu ‘ t ; t ’ Max s*r«et. *j l*i,t' trv V.c. Cui II j D STEUART SMITH, I* II Yg 11 I V N AX I) Srßr,L* O N . ( Late < { the I! »n 1 * L.»** hid; 1 r - 1 nary’» *»tv»ee.J or net, Ms. Whit s'» I»» uproar. Mai* Main. je3o Piacer i!!e ly G. D HALL, un i O. YALE. hlar*r~~%>‘r . S ■'l F r -<i *1 riMCO , Iw in *'• the rv irt* wf l'?»L a* Usr* >ll *1 ! Virgin!* < :ty. j» V) tf iv-uy ill wf. » c. atos*. HUME A BLOSS, ailohnn**- A I - I. A w . , OiB?e ir Ut> Si ck. riiccrtiiic. WiJJ prtr*:** Lv\ in M.e Court* f 11 Ofradn vnd ad jftl* Inf • nun*it* —:u tin. Supreme C\ urt, and Ibe I- 1 • rt• of Utah r»rntft> n 19 ; «a* rf.,|, t. 8. mi*. , DIM. COOKE A TITUS, mi V.«i c ! a% • \ 1: <; i* on*. 0* *? - * • »» .{A • • a*-« x • t*. •r• II; ■ Tent.” W I : Ot.i.'l llg nil the I'Ura H. K STOWE. VOTARY rCHLir AND COMEVANrKR, Unlcntowo. 1.1 Dorado County A A VAN GUELDER, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. fa v? v ;v , r V McJoCMiPty. C.i.r.'Ma i OfflCf. turner Cfloir.a and Main Birrrta. S W. SANDERSON, ATIO It N i; V a T - U 'V . OfV* t r..i,;.|i-if c-p Main Street. Ma-er* \h F II HAHMON, NOTARY I'tHI,IC AMI CtiNMIVANTER. Deftl*. M t»x it— Ic petty written m.j a.WaioW.edg ad fiep.i» t t.«atn pmi.-ete.| U®ce—Kmr.t r ( »r:n. 'lo mUin Democrat huMdu f ~E~ B. CARSON,’ NOTARY M lU.IC AND COMF.VANCrR 15-411 «AfTic* — With the Crun’t R' ccnlrr, (If J CIIA3. P. IRWIN. NOTARY PVDL X C . In and for T ! D «rado Countjr—Office at D am# nd Springs TiitßßH. PLAZA CORNEH, PLACERVILLE. Jr*«T waived a large awnrtment of t* a ba*t l>randa of II wan 1 C gart», T *barCDf, MemcV.uum and olh«r Marchia aivl Plnying C mU, wbo'eaale and r« rail, at San I'ranciaro prices, jc »3m GREAT INDUCEMENTS! A'* * ow nTu- d \>r L. A. UPSON & CO. f (SUCCESSORS TO CIIARDLS W. DAKNW ) pr- pota to ae l o«»nde at f>c «tly ie«luced rates JL for caah. lr. at! wb<. «riali to pur« They have on hand the largest and beat «elected atock of GROCERIES AND LIQUOBS! In the country, which they are telling LOUTH than any other firm Thee alao FORWARD GOODS! MMth rreateai ptinrfuality. and at the loweat rater. IP* Call and price the Goods, and examine tha Block before purchasing ilMWliere. L. A. UPSON A CO , Jelfl-Sin On the Plasa. oj positc the Theater. WATCHES AND JEWELRY. C. J. ARVIDSSON & CO. Re«t* ,, ’tMly inform their friends and Ih** ladies and gentlemen of Placer alile and vicinity generally, thHtth» y will continue the huainesaat the old aland, and haw now on hand a complete assortment of fine GOLD AND SILVER WATCHES, me DIAMOND KINGS, GOLD CHAINS, Ladies’ and Gentlemen’s Gold Rings, Ladies' Rucales. Uroa«t Pint, Far Rings, Etc., All of which ihe3r<»ffer f.«r «ale at the lowest rates. f*«r cash. ALL KINDS OF C U.IPORNIA JEWELRY and Diamond 'Work, monnfirtnred -it the shortest . «.lice. fW* W ATC UE3 Repaired and Regulated by an ex perienced workman. HILLIARD DALLS Turned, and Guns and Plslda Re paired. C J ARVIDBSON A CO., je!6 Next Door to Scligmans' Unck Ulock, Main at. WATCHES, JEWELRY, AND SILVER WARE. At t\* OUcat •frit*try in F , f<u'^rt sa Firéprot'f BLt*A\ Maui at rut. THE SUn.S''RIBKR respectfully announcer to hu friends, and the citizen» of I*l «cerville and vicinity, generally, that he has uo\v In store a splendid assort ment of Gold and Silver Watchos ! JEWELRY, DIAMOND WOES, BTC. All of which ht offer, >t the lowest puce, tot cub. California Jewelry made to order. Welches end Jewelry repaired end warranted Nuch.r.c for regulating Wat.hee. Emtrnvln* •n Wood done to order (jelfi-Jiul F. F. DAUSS. DON’T STOP EATING! Wffhave opened ft NEW GROCERY AND PROVISION BTOKKin the fireproof building oppoalte the Theatre od Ut. FI, ila, la Pl.icervllle, where we arc iclliot choice Groceries and Provisions It a very low figure, and expect to give entire •atiefecllo» both ae regards quality and price Come and judge for youraelvee. Goode delivered free of charge. burns a Mcßride. jelfi-Sm Wholesale and Retail Grocers. PLACERVILLE ASSAY OFFICE. MAIN STKEiT, PLACEKVILLE. GOLD DUST received for Melting and Assaying, and returned in from 4 to 6 boura. Warranted. 4R Bare diccounted at Sa.i Francisco Pricer velfi 3m r; . J AKVIDSON V. TO THE MOUNTAIN DEMOCRAT. PLACER VILLE, EL DORADO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 11, 1800. COME ONE ! COME ALL ! I OLD TO TH« NATIONAL RE*TAIR4\T. FRED. fOLLIYS A CO., Proprkten. FRED, LULLINB, FAT SLAVES, LUL CARTER HAVING PURCHASED at.d REFITTED this old Stand. w« wuuid inform the nubile that we are at all time* read? to accommodate thocr who nnf favor ua with their patronage. Our old friend* and patron* wdl pirate give aia cell. Tou «Ili find every* thlnp »he market afford*. Oyster Stews, that can't be Beat. Porter lloufe Fivakr. Pork Atrak*. Mui'on Chop*. Ham and Epe». Hot Roll*. Hot Mufßna. and Geme of a»I k iride. nrffAME. CHICKEN A. D CHAMPAGNE KUPPF.RH SERVED TO ORDI R tv,- *.-*■ pr* par-*» ’ farmeli fuj.ptrafor Dalli, Partita, Ac., a* H e shortest polite. House open at all IT on: », D iy and N *ht. Onedo'-r be c* the Oa*'.» Salmon, Main Et., Placet ville. Placervlllv, June 19,ISC'J. Jel6-8m HOPE AND NEPTUNE RE3TAUHANT. Cunningham & Tucker, Proprietor*. fJMIE undersigned bejr leave ui tSdi. in 'orni their friend* and the public generally that they hare taken «be above named ftand. and are at al' time* prepared f o furnnh to order, at thefhorteat notice. Oiroe and Oyster Suppers, Meal* at all hou' a. Pork. Be*-f. Mutton. Quail*. Hare, 4r ,at war* on hand. Aah are o' patronnffe !• «o’iHtrd. jtlo Am CUNNINGHAM A TUCKER. THE CARY HOUSE, Three -SU*. ry Fireproof Hotel. Ma.n Street. Placerv,lie, E R. CARY PROPRIETOR TN a!! the Improvement* atid convenience* which mod e*n ho*e! Veep;n/ bai rendered essential. The Cary H«?.»e -land* pre-eminent. It t# lif bled witii »•«. and fur •»i*hrd in evert department In the moat approved e»v|e It coipl <y« t?»e’be.r talent in e»*erv department.and the ta rde |« ;»lw its «upniic J w.tli the choicest of ev»:r> thing to be had ?n the market. .a*t n me maiKtT. Ihe Cat y I fob** i* the depot f ’-r everv stage line o an<! from the cite, and ti kept open all mfh*. ;elfi BIRD’S HOTEL, Fire-Proof Building. Diamond Springs. Tur rrr.rti.tor w M ui If Ibf Public ’t it !.. 'nicol, to fqr- .1. I,;, übi. -t'li the b. »r tbe rr.arkd ifl./rd. lì .bri. if II.» ..uJ .futi IO J tecr.it i.*rrestie i r.ó well vcx*:t';«!ed. {rr OFFICE *H Ti IF PIONEER STAGE POMPA NV JCO JOHN A DIRI» li *n i,s.J P}>..riffe. Jm. —ly W. M. DONAHUE, «II(.LEDALE I)LAI.r.U IN FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC WINES, LIQUORS. FTC., MAIN STREET, I’I.ACHI! VILLE S 4 >IPLK ROOMS. _&* CARY HOUSE BUILDING. ;*~ MAGNOLIA, hnor k i.tss sniixiE. O*. »hr Sacramento ai.d T.l Dorado Wajnr H *d- So. e bit *..'ip purrkt I. quota at d !.e*t Curar» in f alilorma aej t. ( i J. M. M.VssllY. “THE SNUG,” pini) * nil VDI.I.V PKOPHIETOUS. C>lotua Street, corner of Main. Main »!r et Entrance, ti.r ;fh Sjlhcr*llen’f f'lfar Sture Col'»aia atrert Entranvv. flr*t Uoorab*'f Main Uriel. JjSl-3m GREYHOUND SALOON, F II HARViV . PR'IPRILTOn M i n Street, Dir 8.0t.k,) BURNS & McBRIDE, WHOLESALE AXI) 11 UTAH. DEALERS IX 1 GROCERIES and PROVISIONS, fireproof build.ng. rn the Plus*. rmd at the OLD STORE Near fedir Rat • i;'n>:>s.lKUVtllh.L> FULL nf WAR UK. Jr’s 8m BATHS! BATHS!! BATHS!!! HOT. COLD AND SHOWER BATHS i OASIS BATHING & SHAVING SALOON, AM' I'KPOT IUU VANTIN) .- Compound Vegetable Hair Tonic, For kvatorln?. I*re«ervtnf Mnd liiau.ifyiiif THE HUMAN HAIR. j Vrxt d'or to the Oa*i* Saloon. Mam Street. Pl.acervlllc i Jelft-Hia J. VaM INE. Pr* pi irti. r NEW GOODSI I Spring and Summer CLOTH I N Q . BAMBERGER ft BILDEHMAN HAVE «reived their entire laf'icei of New and Lre.h Good., .elected fur thi. and. the Washoe Trade, sud offer. amonj.t a large aud general niort mem, the follnutiif : Fine Black Cloth Frock Coats, Fine Bluck Cloth Sack Coats, Fine Fancy Can-unere Business Coats, Fine Cloth Ragl«ns, Flannel Suits, ” Hiackimd Urab Alarmeli Coats, Fui" Linen Coals. Pant" and Suits, all Hie new ilylu. Fine Black Doeskin Pants, Fine Plam and Fancy Cassimere Pants, Linen and Cottonado Pants, n large assortment. Fancy Snk, Satin, Caspimere and Marseilles Vests, Trunks, valises and Carpet Bags, Blankets, Straw, Wool and Cassimere Hats, Davis ft Jones’ Shirts—all Hie varieties. Boots, Shoes, Gaiters, etc. To all of whieh we Invite the attention of the Trade and in making LOW I’UICES, Hr aliali tempt the I üb ile to purchase of us. j«-I6 3ui BAMBERGER & SILBERMAN. M. STEINBERG, nm MAIN STREKT, PLACEHVII.LE, [Next door to Arvidnson’s Jewelry Store.] MONEY LOANED. [febt It S. SILBERSTIEN, OPPOSITE THE CARY lIOtSE. CIGARS, TOBACCO, FRUIT, NUTS, Candies and Stationery. tar GENUINE MEERCIIACM PIPE?. I 45 C A. A. VAN VOORHIES, wuoiusin isu aerali, ncabn is lu nisusor » m mm Ei Q O ) foil SADDLES, HARNESS, Bridle*. Whtpi, Spurs. Lrfffflna, Drushtrf, Combs, Cullal i». Himhta, Hurav bhtcla and lilanketa, etc.. Tofrethrr with a Urpe and complete assortment of LEATHER. OALP-BKINB, SHOE FIND INGS, SHOBMAKBRB’ KITS. Leather Preservative, io., io., all of which 1* offered a 1 Sacramento Prices. New Iron Fire-Proof Block, Jel*3 Malo street, Placervllle. (Sm CITY SEXTON AND UNDERTAKER. JOHN ROY, Q fll DKALBft Ilf AND MAKUriCTCUt Of I | Furniture, Matresses, Bedding, Etc., which he keeps constantly on hand.or manufacture* to order, at abort notice, an i on reasonable termi. upholstering neatly executed. JOBBING PROMPTLY ATTENDED TO. OOLOMA STREET, Next door to the OSce of the Mountain Democrat, jiO Bm Placervllle L. A. UPSON ft CO., Wholesale and Retail Dealers in GROCERIES, PROVISIONS, CROCKERY, PLOUB, OBAIN, Produce and General Merchandise, je!6J Main si , opposite the Th*a«re, Plarervllle. [Bm ANKrTf, f »rsale •-Jiear at I n.KVP* “ OUR COUNTRY ALWAYS RIGHT, EXIT RIGHT OR WRONG, OXJR COUNTRY.” NOT A SPECTRE. DT MARY RYLE DALLAS. “ Ah 1 such a sleep! and such a dream ! I waa riding upon old Trotter against a snow storm, with pannier upon pannier loaded with eggs piled upon his back, and weighing him down. Then I was selling eggs, and the cus tomers were indignant—for where should have been yolk they found nothing but salt; they were all beautiful young women, and they - threw the eggs at my head in their anger; and as the broke, scattering a shower of salt over my face, they shouted, “ Hallow E’en I Hal'ow E vo I at the top of their voices. Then I was a big egg myself, and people would lay me on the edge of prv’dpiccs, and throw their eggs at me, until at length I awoke with a start, stretching my arm» to keep me from falling, as one often does in sleep. Once mon tile tall presses, the little mirror, tiie white curtains—all glimmering in the cold moon light, which fell through the window, greeted my eyes. I was wide awake. I was perfectly calm and collected. My face was toward the w indow, and suddenly I was startled by a faint crimson light, which flushed the wall and the curtain. Can the sun be rising f 1 thought. No, it was not the sun, the light was within my room, and there, as true as 1 live, I saw a | ligule, while and straight, advancing towards my bed, bolding a light in its hand. My heart stood still, but I gazed eagerly on the 1 apparition. "it w*-r very fair to look upon; golden I culi» fell to the waist, blue eyes smiled from beneath delicate brows, a dimple in the chin, j a tiny mole upon the cheek, teeth like pearls, and a neck w inter than alabaster—these were the chief traits ; yet I trembled and grew faint. I closed my eyes and assumed slumber. The firm advanced, bent over me. and pressed its lips to mine. I felt two terrible unearthly kisses, and, unable to control myself longer, ' sprang from the bed in an agony of terror. In : a moment the light vanished, I heard some- j tiling hk*-a mortled seream, ami, staggering] to the bed, swooned away. The next morning j I awoke fevered and ill. I hade farewell tn my hospitable entertainer and went home. I never mentioned toy vision to any one, but •ithcr the shock ir the salt eggs alrm-st fin ished my existence. For three weeks 1 lay at che point nt death, and all the w hile, so they told me, I raved of a dimple in the chin, a , mule upon the cheek, and curls like molten iiwonliglil. I recovered at last, and in the ! course of a year departed for New York to enti r into business with my uncle, who was a meri h uit. " By a curious coincidence it was once more All Hallow L'en when I reached New York, and ns the cah in which i had ensconced my self at the landing, rolled along Broadway, I thought even while my eyes rested upon the hiihianlly lighted and gayly bedecked stores, and tiie hustling crowd which thronged the broad sidewalks', of the quiet farm house chamber, the dark oak presses, the ebon framed mirror, and the w hite apparition steal ing troni the shadows slowly, softly, terribly, but oh, so beautiful 1 * Shall’ I ever meet her!’' I murmured. ‘ Were those spectral kisses the foretaste of warm, delicious living caresses, fr 'h tieni theruhy lip» of an earthly maiden ?' A I sp 1. ; the carriage stopped at my uncle’s ■ioor.” H re uncle Oliver patlv-d fra moment and ga/.-d mound him. The oMer girls were blushing violently—were in a state of awful seriousness edifying to behold, amt no one 1 »poke a single word. Uncle Oliver gave us a , quizzing glance and proceeded : “ It was very near the dinner hour, and af ! ter exchanging greetings with my uncle and •unit I was shown to my apartment, to in ike solini r-quisite change in my traveling cos ili ne. li. was a Very different room from that il the ol I farm-house, where i had slept just one year before, hut somehow 1 half expec ted to see the bright apparition steal from he- I-vetn the llossy lace curtains, or rise from be hind tin- great velvet rocking chair beside the liie-place, as I stood combing my hair and ar ranging my cravat before the toilet-glass be tween the windows. •• Tne dinner-hell recalled me to myself, and I opened the dour to descend to the dining room. A» 1 stepped into the hall I stood di redly opposite a (light of broad stairs covered with a nell velvet carpet, and lit by a pend ant lamp of amber glass. Upon those stairs I saw something gliding towards me. Trans fixed with astonishment I gazed upon it.— ijulden curls, snowy shoulders, blue eyes, a dimple i'i (he chin, a brown mole upon the cheek, a mouth like a rosebud! Ah! I bad felt Ilio pressine of those lips— it was once more my apparition, not clad in the white this time, hut draped in glossy robes of tender purple, like the hue of an angel's wing. The amber lamp light floated down upon her, and she came towards me slowly, but surely. I did not faint this time, but 1 retreated to my room, double-locked the door, and fell into a chair trembling like an aspen leaf. A knock shortly alter restored my self-possession, and I answered “come in," with the full deter mination not to admit the spectre, if this were she. The servant's voice responded, “ Please, sir, dinner is ready." And with renewed self possession I descended to the dining-room. “•Miss Star, my nephew, Mr. Oliver Lon don. ’ “It was my uncle who spoke. It was my apparition—golden curls, dimpled chin and rosebud month—who bent in acknowledgment. It was I, with my hair standing on an end, ami my heart in my mouth, who uttered some words in reply—what, neither I nor any one else knew. She had come at last. In living tlesh and blood she stood before me, the reali zation of my vision —my fate, my future wife!" " Aunt Helen 1" exclaimed the group in one breath. “ Yes, my dears, your Aunt Helen," replied Uncle Oliver, "and the very apparition which had appeared to mo in tho old farm-house, | from the fairy foot to the soft curls; identical ly the same. Well, my dears, wo knew each other, loved each other, and were married on my twenty-third birthday. She became my wife; and on the following All Hallow E’en, wo were sitting quietly before tho tire in our little house. 1 had never told her of my vis ion. hut on that night I had resolved to do so. I had opened my lips to speak, when Helen spoke instead. “ ‘My dear Oliver,’ she began, ‘did I ever tel! you of my adventure on All Hallow E’en just three years ago. I know I have not.— Would you like to hear it V’ “ Of course 1 assented to tho proposition. “ ‘Well, on this night just three years ago, I was a long distance from this place. Just at this hour 1 arrived, weary with a long journey, at the door of an old farm-house, some miles from Cincinnati, on the road to M ’ “ ‘At the door of an old farm-house, some miles from Cincinnati on tho road to M ?’ I replied slowly. “ ‘Yes, an aunt and uncle of mine, an old Scotch couple, lived there, and I was to pay them a visit,’ replied Helen. " ‘Yes ; an aunt and undo of yours, an old Scotch couple, lived there, and you were to pay them a visit?’ repeated I once more. ' 'Yes.'snptinued IMen, 'I wbs to meet at this place my brother James, whom I had not seen for three years.’ “ ‘Your brother James I* I grasped in be wilderment “ ‘Yes, and of course I was very anxious to sec him,’ said my wife, ‘so that I was very sorry to discover, on my arrival, that he had retired for the night After I had gone to my room, I could not sleep, so I decided that I would slip on my dressing-gown and comfort myself by taking one glance at James’ sleep ing face. So with a light in my hand I slipped along the passage, and entered, as 1 supposed, his room.’ “ ‘And entered, as you supposed, his room,' i I echoed mechanically. “ ‘He was asleep,' proceeded Helen, ‘snd I j thought he had altered very much. I set down the light, and bended over him, touched my lips very softly to bis. Imagine my con sternation when the eyelids opened widely, | revealing black orbs instead of blue, and, like t {flash of lightning, (tic truth dawned upotr my mind ; the person I had kissed was a stran ger, not my brother! Obeying my first im pulse, I extinguished the candle ami rushed towards the door. It was open, and I was in the entry in a moment, hut not until I had hoard the stranger spring upon the floor, as if he were about to follow me. How I gained JUS room I do not know ; but the next morn- ing I discovered that a young man whose \ horse had been lamed by a fall had slept there I for tlic night, and had departed duly in tin; : nmming. What lie thought of me I shall | never know, but lie was evidently very much ■ astonished.’ “ ‘Not so much as he is now?’ I ejaculated. ' “ ‘What can you mean?' cried my wife, in - amazement. “ ‘I mean that it was I whom you kissed, that it was I whom you saw, that the vision was a true one, after all," and then holding tier on niv knee, I t"ld her my long cherished story. My All Hallow E'en vision, the spiri t of my future wife came to me at midnight in her own fair living form. It was Helen's self who Itissrd me, the bonniest wraith-that ever smiled on mortal man. It is a true story.— How do you like it. girls V ' “ Wc like it as we would a sudden shower bath, or a frost among summer roses." It was a terrible disappointment, and thu, youngest, little Anna, bathed in IcaiS, had thrown herself sobbing upon my knew. " What is the matter" said L’nclc Oliver. "O —d-nr—me,” sobbed Anna. "o—dear —me—it isn't a rpiiit after all. What—a— mean—story !" Our love for the supernatural was tamed dow n. N’o one sowed hemp seed, or ate an apple in the glass that night, I am convinced. OUR WONDROUS ATMOSPIIERP The Atmosphere rise s sbovi- us w ith its ca thedral dome, arching toward heaven, of which it is tlie most pvrfvct synonym and symbol. It floats around us lik<; I hut grand object which the Apostle John saw in Ids vision, “ a sv* ol ('lass like tinto crystal." So massive is it, that «hen it begins to slir, it tonava about great ships like playthings, and sweeps cities -and toft-sth like snow tlakes to vii slruction before it. And yet it is so mobile that we have lived roars in it before we cm be persuaded that it exist'. ■ t all, and the gr-'al bulk of mankind nev. r realize the truth that they are bathed in an ocean of air. Its weight is so enormous that iron shivers before it like glass; yet a soap hall sails through it with impunity, and the tiniest insect waves it aside with its’ wing. It ministers lavishly to all the senses. We touch it not, but it touches us. Its warm south wind brings back color to the pale face cf the Invalid; its cool west winds refresh the fevered br-iw, and make the blood mantle on our cheeks; even its north blasts brace into new vigor the hardened children of our rugged climate. ’1 he eye is indebted to it for all the magnificence of sunrise, the full brightness of midday, the chastened radiance ol tne gloam ing, and the clouds that cradle near the set ting sun. Hut for it, the rainbow would want its " triumphant arch,” and the winds would not send tin ir fleecy messengers on errands around the heart ns. The cold ether would not shed snow feath ers on the earth, nor would drops of dew ga ther on ilio flowers. The kindly rain would never fall, nor hail storm nor fug diversy the face of the sky. Our naked globe would turn its tanned and unshadowed forehead to the sun, and one dreary, monotonous blaze of light mid heat dazzlc’and burn up all tilings. Were there no atmosphere: the evening sun would in a moment set, and, without warning, plunge the earth in darkness. Hut the air keeps in liei hand n sheath of her rays, and lets them slip hut slowly through her lingers, so that the shadows of evening are gathered by degrees, and the flowers have time to how their heads, and each creature space to find a place of rest, and to nestle to repose. In the morning, the garish sun would at one bound burst from the bosom of niglit, and blaze above the horizon ; hut the air watches for his coming, and sends hut first only one little ray to announce his approach, ami then ano ther, and by and by a handful, and so gently draws aside the curtain of night, and slowly lets the light fall on the lace of the sleeping earth, till her eyelids open, and, like man, she goclh fo: th again to her labor until the even ing.— [ (Juarterly Rnietr. A Strina of Pearls.—Cultivate true sen timents, and good manners will suggest them selves. To-morrow is the day on which lazy people work and fools reform. Persons must surely rife to eloquence not by distinction, but by seeking a worthy end. Charity would lose its name were it influ enced by so mean a motive as human praise. Intellect is not the moral power ; conscience is. Honor, not talent, makes the gentleman. Little drops of rain brighten the meadows, and little acts of kindness brighten the world. Men are said toadmiro that which they look up to, and to lovo that which they look dow n upon. Generosity consists not in the sum given, but in the manner and the occasion of its be ing bestowed. To quell the pride even of the greatest, we should reflect how much more we owo to others than to ourselves. Wo are sure to he losers when we quarrel with ourselves ; it is a civil war, and in all sach contentions, triumphs are defeats. The philosopher Frazer says that, “ though a man without money is poor, n roan with nothing but money is still poorer." Philospherg themselves, like the stoic gentle man of Marmont?), after praising simplicty of living, often sink to sleep on heavy suppers and beds of down. An old author remarks “In borrowing money bo precious of your word ; for bo that bath care of keeping days of payment is lord of another man's purse." They are best situated for happiness who are neither too high nor too low—high enough to cultivate good manners, and obscure enough to be left In the sweetest of solitudes. To live with a true economy is to live wise ly. The man who lives otherwise has no pru dent regard for bis own happiness. B't‘ *B»re tS 00 ors* f'lly thin fair?* *mj)on\y JOHN O. BRECKENRIDOE. John C. Breckenridge is known as wide ns the country ; for hi« manhood is crowned w ith laurel* won on hard-fought political fields.— Hence when his nemo wns presented to tiic Democratic Convention at Cincinnati, it crea ted such a burst of enthusiasm an is seldom witnessed in public assemblies. John C. Brecttenridge m the only son of a large family, and born at Lexington, Kentockv, January 16th, 1821. ills father, J. Cabell Breckenridge, was a distinguished member of the legal profession, and a prominent politician of Kentucky, where he was much beloved and esteemed. He died in 1823. at the nee of 33, 'v bile Secretary of State under Governor Adair. He bad inherited a large estate, which he in creased by bis industry and ability, hut it was all swept away about the period of his death by liabilities incurred through his generou readiness to aid Ids friends. The failure ol those for whom he had become surely involved his own pecuniary ruin. His wife, a daughter ! of Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith, President of Princeton College, N. J., and grand-daughter of John Witherspoon, a former president of the same institution, and one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, is still living. Young Breckenridge received his education at Centre College, Ky., living in the family i f ( the president, Rev. John C. Young, his broth er-in-law, and graduated with honor in tin. ! Autumn of 18S8. lie next spent a few months at Princeton, N. J.. as a resident graduate, then studied law at Frankfort, Ky., with Judge j DvvsTy, attended the lectures of fheXexThgton j Law School, and received a license in tin- ( Spiing of 1841. Willi a finished classical and J professional education, full of honoiable ambi ! lion, and determined to make his way in the j world by his own exertions, without calling on his friends for aid or influence, he invested the trifling remainder of those resources which had been economized to complete bis educa tion, in the purchase of n horse and saddle bags, and crossed the Ohio river. After trav ersing Indiana and Illinois, lie finally concia disi m si-ttlè At Burlington, in the lerriloiy of lowa, in November, 1841. There he lived fal livo years, practising law with marked success, and roughing it after the f.iddon of youngsters ‘ in a new country. In 1843 he returned to his j native State to visit his mother and sisters, , and married Miss Mary C. Hindi, whose an- j festers were from Vliglnia, and among the ; (irst pioneers of Kentucky. Mr. Breckenridge now yielded to the urgent i desire of Ids relatives and friends that lie ; should return and piteli ids lent in Kentucky I inr life. In 1817 his ohi and legal precenter. ■ then Gov, Us sly, tendered him the rank ni major in one of the Kentucky regiments railed , out to assist General Scott, in Mexico. These! regiments were enlisted for the duration of the ) war. As soon as their organization was com pleted they repaired to the scene of action, landing at Vera Cruz, and mai died tu the capital. But like many other of then com rades in the Held, the lino brigade from Ken tucky was not destined to exhibit their gal lantry under tire. They arrived in time to see the American flag waving over the mythic •‘Halls of Montazumns," but not to assist in planting it there. Major Breckenridge’s regi ment antlered severely from the effects of the climate, ami returned home afte! - having lost one-fourth of their original number, which was one thousand men, from diseii-e. Wl>U*4w-l Mexico, Major Breckenridge made many warm 1 friends among the olHccrs of the army, ami | established an honorable reputation io a sol dicr and a gentleman. At the conclusion of ! this dramatic episode in his career, he return- ’ ed to the practice of the law- in Lexington, j where lie greatly distinguished himself, at a , bar renowned (i)r~tììe'Kijirnbig, eloquence and acumen of its members. In 1851 lie was elected to the Slate Legislature Troni the strung Whig I county of Fayette. In -this new sphere he cs-1 tahlishcd at mice a brilliant reputation. Frank ! and fearless in manner, thoroughly posted up 1 on every question of the day, clothed in un in vulnerable logic, and a master of the ai ts of | attack ami defence, he extorted admiration ; from those even who felt the keenness of his j weapons. His distinguished ability caused i his paity to select him ns tlieirchaiiipion in a : congressional election, and he accepted tin popular nomination. It was then a hazardous . undertaking to attempt to make head against 1 ilio local numbers of the opposition. The . Whig majority in the district was from a thou , sand to fifteen hundred, and Breckenridge was - opposed by General Leslie Coombs, a very strong man. A long and exciting canvass fol lowed, but the result was the election of the Democratic candidate by a ninjoiity of 581. Mr. Brvckenriilgu's debutili the national legis lature was as brilliant as has been that in the Kentucky House. His talents and power were immediately recognized, and in- became at once a marked man. The first lime we saw . him was in the House of Representatives, i about the close of his first term. His line | manly appearance had attracted our attention, and wo inquired his name of a shrewd old | politician, long a resident at Washington.— | “That man," «aid he, "is John C. Breekcn- , ridge, of Kentucky, who will one day, if he ■ lives, be President of the United State-:.”— ! And this was not the impression produced on ! an individual mind. Often, when .speculations were indulged in with regard to the future ot politics,—when it was asked who in intellect wci't hi tosueCeed the statesmen passing from the stage, the Clays, the Websters, the Cal houns, the Bentons, the name of Breckenridge was always mentioned as that of one on w limn the mantle of departed greatness would rest gracefully and worthily. The rising fame and power of the Kentucky representative alarmed the opposition, and in 1853 the Whigs, in formal convention, selected as his opponent Governor R, P. Letcher, their most available representative, a man of great popularity and great adroitness, and who like wise enjoyed the prestige of never having been beaten. Ho had carried the State for Gover nor by 20,000 majority. Thu Wliigs boasted that they would “ redeem" the district, and they left no stone unturwd to accomplish their vaunt. The canvass was the,,hottest ever known in the State. Governor Letcher preach ed a crusade against the Democrats, and pro claimed it as his mission “ to rescue the grave of Clay from the infidels." In the second reprcscnlativc election Mr. Breckinridge's majority over Mr. Letcher was 526. His speeches in Congress, which have been widely circulated by tho Democratic press, explain his popularity and his success. Their senti ments arc thoroughly rational, and hisopin ionaare defended with rare ability and elo quence. Among his numerous and brilliant speeches, that on the Nebraska bill, delivered March 28, 1854, has often been referred to as a master-piece of sound and conclusive rea soning and of high-toned oratory ; character istic, however, of all his efforts, and of which we trust to give specimens at some feturo time. It produced a profound impression in the House, and carried dismay into the ranks of the opposition. Mr. Breckenridge bad fully determined to remain in retirement after the close of hia second Congressional term. He hed declined the Spanish mission tendered him by President Pierce. He had never sought public honors ; but whenever called upon t* ho-'kl» nr> 'hr harms' ?nd do battle for the party, be hod acquiesced in the express wishes of the people ; but the Convention nl Cincinnati nominated hi in for the Vice-Presi dency, and the people confirmed the nomina tion. As Vice-President he has won new His speeches on political questiona linee innni fsted a comprehensive pulii' tism woitliy of tlie man and the country, and the continued confidence of his constituents has just been manifested-in on election for six years, as one of its Senators. Tinsi- a tiibutc to biswoith and met it. gracefully given and richly deser ved. His election to the Presidency would he felt throughout the length and breadth of the bind us an event calculated to promote tjic prosperity of our country. —Button I'uat. A GOOD BTC It Y. The* following admirable story of a boasting old fellow, named “Major Lucky,” is told by the Hon. Leslie Combs, of Kentucky. The •vette is-saitf to bave- 4ak~n- place between the - Major and a Colonel Peters, of Illinois: “ Major, I understand from Gen. Combs that, shortly after the- Revolution, you visited Eng'nnd. Mow did you like- the jaunt?” “Capital! I imd not been in London five hours before Re* seiit f r me to come and piny u paino of wlii-t w ith bint ; and a first-rate good lime we ba i. I tell you.” “ Rex. w hat II- XV" " Why, R, x, The Rtf- George the Third. The game came off at Windsor Castle—Rex and I played against Hilly Pitt and Ed. Uuike —mol it lesiiUWruthei cc.mieally."— ..1 “ How so? ' “ Win-, you ree, as we played the last panie, Rex said tu me, in a familiar manner, “Ma jor. I suppose you know Charles Washington, don’t you?” “ No, sir," said I, " I don’t, but I'll tell you who Ido know. I know George Wash ington. the Father of bis Country.” “0 pshaw!” said Rex; I know him too ; be was an infernal rebel, and if I had served him tight lie’d been bung long ago.” | “This ailed me, «ini I just draws! back and . give a blow right between the eyes, and lie dropped like a buttock. The next minute Hilly Pitt and E l. Ruike mounted me, and in less that ten minutes my shut and breeches were so tattered and torn that 1 looked like Lazuriti!. " J Lls gave me rather a distaste for English Society; so lite next morning I set sail for America, Six weeks afterwards 1 landed at Washington. The lir.st man 1 met was Q.” “ Q w hat ?” “ Why, old Quincy Adams—that blasted oi l fedeialist, Adams. He wanted incto play i ii7l-plii» wliTi him, and I did. I w«ff two hundred dollars of him, at two shillings a game, and then then; was a row." “ i row about wbat ?’’ “ U by, be wanted to pay me ufi in Conti nental money, woilb about a shilling a peek. I got mad at that, and knocked him into a spittoon. While I bad him down, dim came ni and dingged me oil'to the White House.” "Jim? what Jim?” “ Why, Jim Madison. I went and played euchre with trim two hours, when Toni came in, and nothing would do but 1 must go home with bini." " What Tom do you mean?” “ U by, 'J oin .1 li'i-ison who do you s’poso ■ I meant ? Hut Jim wouldn't listen to it, and the consequence was they got into a regular light, in the midst of it they fell over the bannisters, and dropped about sixty feet, and when I iell they were pounding each other in the coal cellar. " How it terminat' d I never could barn, as ! lost then Martha came in, and said I must g.i light down to Mount Vernon with her, to see : Geoige.” “ What Martha are you speaking of, Major ' —not to interrupt you?” "\\ by, Martin Washington, the wife "f I 1 old buy that gave •Jessie' to the rascally Hessians " " About here,” said Mr. Combs, “ (tie stran ger began to nave a faint suspicion that be was ‘swallow ing things,’and in the next stage that ciinie along be took passage for an adja cent town.” i be " Major” is said to be still living, amt ! believes to this day tint the walloping be gave H'.x is tlie very best thing on record. —— « » V» hat is a Lady?—A great deal of argil imnt is going the rounds respecting the title of lady and the name woman. Tlie express iun “lady" is su mudi abused, that, without t" in; in the legsf hypercritical, I have long since become profoundly disgusted with it, and infinitely prefer the s-.Vcci, unpretending title of true woman. If we could but lift the d'alf from the wheat, abrogate all the Self .■>iyl*.*d “ ladb s,” there would be no objection to tlie title; but ministers of grace defend u frulli some ladies of the present day, who do not even know why a woman should be so culled. A lady must possess perita t refine ment and intelligence. She must he gracious, affable, and hospitable, without the slMitest degree of fussiness. Sht must be a Christian, mild, geni'j and charitable, unostentatious, and doing good by Stealth. She must be deaf to scandal and gossip. Her high sense <«l honor will forbid her prying into her Iris band’s secrets, searching stealthily Ids port mummie and pockets, and breaking open hi letters She must not disdain n kindly nod of recognition to her servant, seamstress', dr maker, butcher, baker, or any oilier employee she may chance to meet. She must possess discrimination, knowledge of human nature, ami tact sutlicieut to avoid oll’eliding one’s weak points, steering wide of ail subjects w bieli may be disagreeable or offensive to any present, She must keep the golden rule up permost rn her mind. She must look upon personal cleanliness and freshness of artire a> next to godliness. Her dress must bo in ac cordance with her means, never dressy or flashy, but, if possible, composed of the best material. Abhorring everything like soiled or faded finery, or mock jewelry, her pun mind and clear conscience will cause the font of Time to pass as lightly over the smooth brow- as if she stepped on flowers, and, as she moves with quiet grace and dignity, all will accord her, instinctively, the title of lady. If I had time and you patience, I could present the other view- of the case, looking upon this picture and upon that. lint when one con stantly comes In contact, in omnibuses, cars, stores, the promenade, places of public amuse ment, and wherever women are generally found, with those who loudly arrogate to themselves the contested title, can you wonder at the disgust it produces? Sharp Practice—Dr. Richard Mead, of England, was the first to introduco the custom of having himself called out of church; but he practised this ruse under more favorable advantages than most cou’.d. His father was ft clergyman, with a la'ge congregation, and when tho Doctor was summoned out, would say, “ Dear brethren, let us offer a prayer for the poor sufferer to whose relief my son Rich ard has been called." Id this way the son gained notoriety.” Happiness is a perfume that one cannot shed over another, without a flaw drops failing on ono*s NUMBER SS. A ATRAHQS ATOUT, non tni ritHcM. An extraordinary tale, gravely told by Poo chet in his Mem otre* Tire» de» Archtre» de m Police, has just been made th* aubjeet ot a drama at one of the boulevard theater*, under the title of " Serene de Pari*.” At tbu tine when SI. de la Hernia was Lieutenant-General of Police, under Louis XIV, a great iena* lion was caused at Paris by the mysterious disap pearance of not fewer than twenty**!* young men, aged from 17 to 28. belonging to noble or wealthy families. Among the common people the report was spread that the young men had been murdered by a foreign princess, in ord-.-r that she might take baths of their blood to cure herself of the lifer complaint I I ne matter at'last became so serioua that I.ogls XIV complained of it to M. d« la Rey ni.-, and the latter consulted on* of bia ablest agents, mimed Lecoq. This parson auapactad that the roung men must bavo Wien Into MM >ieuln fer them by fsmals ehanM. and he employed a natural aon of hia own, a handsome ami intelligent young man, to try ami discover the mystery. This young man, whose name w as Ex opere, wasaant, splsndidly dressed, every day to the Tuileries, the Palace K'lynle, and the Luxembourg, which war* then the places ( f i*-bio - ab! e resui t, At length ha s'.w n tlie *1 micties a young woman of mar v lons h ante, attended by an aged female, and Ins iohks expressed his admiration. Shu stente I fu fi tun displeased, and at length her attend tilt, aicosting him, said she waaa Polisti pi ineu»s uf the name ofJubiTQUsks, immensely rich, and os she was much struck by him, aha would perhaps allow him to visit liar. The j oung man declared that lie had concairad a violent passion for the lady, and after acino conversation the attendant told him that if at nine o'clock at night ho would present hirosalf in front of the church of St. Germaiu-l’Au* urrois, she would uieet him and take him to her mistress. The young man of course told Lecoq of this, and in the evening the lattar caused several of Ids men to be placed in such a way as nut tu lose sight of Exupere, and in the event of his incurring danger, to be able to render him assistance. At th« appointed hour the young man was at the rendeavous, and the woman joined him there. She wantad to bandage ids eyes, but lie refused to lat bet do so. She then led him by various obscure streets to the Hue des Orlevrcs, and there in* tr._> !ii « Ì him into a small house near the Chape; Jji. Eiui. Alter walking along a dark corn lor the young mao was Introduced into» sumptuously furnished room,in which ho found the foreigner. She received him so kindly that he entirely forgot to give Lecoq outside the signal which had been agreed on. After a while the lady retired, and the young man, pioceeding to examine the room, found behind a screen a glass case in which were twenty-si* men's heads, each placed in a silver dish and • neh so carefully embalmed that it retained the apinioance i’>f life ! lie started back with horror ; hut at the same moment a whistle outside was heard, being the signal of Lecoq, and in a fvw seconds after the windows were forced open, and that olliccr and his men, who had ascended by ladders, jumped into the room. Tlie eoi ilieaiit princess, hearing the noise, rushed into the apartment, followed by four ferocious-looking bandits, but the polle* were strong enough to arrest all five. The bandits Were in due time condemned to death arid executed. As to tho female, she turned out to be nut a Pole, but an Englishwoman, who is stated in lleuchct'a account to hav* enticed the young men to her house to satisfy hei pa toons, and had them murdered in order to red them. She also was condemned to death, hut « scaped in n strange way. Th* King spoke of the affair to Ins brother, Mon* .-min', to the Chevalier do Lorraine, and soma other lugli personages. The Chevalier sug gested to the Prince that it would ho amusing to .up with so singular a criminal. Monsieur at first objected, but at Inst consented. By means of u blank lettre de cachet, the Prince caused the woman to be given up to some ptrsons sent by bini, on tlie pretext that she was to be conveyed to another prison. He had her. however, carried to a country-house some miles across the' country, where he. the Chevalier dc Lorraine, and Si. d'Efflal were waiting to receive her. Tho whole four sup in.! tigether. At length Monsieur, having seen enough of her, suggested that she ought to be sent back to the Bastile ; but his com panions proposed instead that she should b* conveyed either to London or Brussels and aet at liberty. The good natured prince consented and went away. The two nobles passed tbs eight in an oreie with the woman, telling her that the next day they would convey her out of the country ; but instead of trusting to them she thought best to save herself} so, plying them will with drink until they were over come, she locked them in, and escaping, was seen no more. The governor of the Bastile, on learning that the woman had been got out of his custody by a trick of the King's brother, thought the best thing ho could do was to pretend that she was dead, and he accordingly had a rerhul drawn up to that effect IVii.it Makes the Gentleman.—A gentle man U not merely a person acquainted with certain form or conventionalities of life, easy and self-possessed in society, able to speak, and net and move In the wn»'ld without awk wardness, and free from habits which are vul gar and io bad taste. At the base of all hi* vase and rvlinenivot, and tact and power of pleasing, is the same spirit which lies at tho root of every Christian virtue. It is the thoughtful desire of doing in every instance to others as lie would that others should do onto him. lie is constantly thinking, not in deed how ho may givo pleasure to others for the mere sense of pleasing, but how h* can show them respect, how he tuny avoid hurling their feelings. When he is in society he scro pnlously ascertains the position of every on*, with whom lie is brought into contact, that ho may givo to each his due honor. H* studies how ho may avoid teaching Upon any subject which may call up a disagreeable of offensive association. A gentleman never al ludes to, never appears conscious of any par sons! (Meet, bodily deformity, inferiority of talent, of rank, of reputation, in whosa aoeWty he is placed. Ho never assumes any superi ority—never ridicules, never boasts, never makes a display of his own powers, or rank, or advantages ; never indulge» in habits which may bo ollensive to otherc. Trino» not to Do.—When you aro odbrad a great bargain, the vaine of which ypa tat*, nothing about, but which roti are to gat *1 half price, “ being it's you”—don't yoa da h. When a young lady catches yqu afona, Im violent hands on vou, expressing u Us*j|| every glanca—don't you do it Whan aWsM* kicks you, and you feel a strong dUpetMlS#,. kick the horse in return— don't 4b ML W on any occasion your wif* thonH MMt you, r new tumble ever tho oaliCtßltl your neck, do !”— don’t yea 4» It Mpt have any businaas to tnMMtvlft • NM financier, and ha aaksyentoeowi dh*Wh him—don't you do it JNT* self whistling in a printing «A«w um the •* Devil” tell* you ♦« whistle a little loader— don’t vmj do if