Newspaper Page Text
i ? it V.i ill HI Si i M t tt if 'J ,50 P E R ANNUM IF PAID IN ADVANCE, Z. fiAGAN, Editor and Proprietor, THE BANISHED STEP DAUGHTER. A TALE 07 DOMESTIC LIFE. (continued from last week.) CHAPTER II.. The paper which Robert had presented me from Mr. Atherton.,' proved to be a cheque for fifty pounds, and small as was the sum, I felt deeply grateful for it. it would at least enable me to make some additions to my scanty wardaobe. Placing it carefully in my porte-mon-naie, I continued in a state of trepidation till the arival of the carriage at the station. Totally unaccustomed to travelling alone, it seemed an almost desperate undertaking to purchase my ticket and find my way to the train unassisted ; but what one must do is always practicable. Fortuna tely, I had so baggage to attend to. so at the first step of my journey of exile. I could say with the Arab '"Blessed be nothing.1' But another difficulty lay before me. Aocording to my calculations, i should Arrive at b some tune lrfvthe night. How, in such a case, was I to find my inendl and, u I succeeded, wuat impres sion should 1 make, coming thus tinan flounced and so unseasonably upon her ? The idea of going alone, at night, to strange hotel, I could not for a moment entertain, to? a lew, moments I looked back regretfully upon the house I had left, and as impossibilities thickened upon me, 1 said to myself 'Oh, foolish heart f oh, headstrong will ! thus to have sacrificed ease, com fort, wealth, station, everything, for a silly whim, a prejudice, baseless, perhaps, as the vision ot a night. Why could you not suae, as others have done, as thous ands do daily, those natural intuetions, which, in conventional life, do so annoy you I See at what cost you are assert ing your vaunted independence 1" 'I see," answered back the heart, be ginning' to grow strong since its fetters were cast off. "I can cal.tily count over the fearful cost." And so, with a growing 'self-reliance and increasing sense of the sweetness of liberty mingling with all my doubts, and fears, and anxieties, I traveled on. At last, overcome with fatigue and ex citement, I fell asleep. When I awoke it was far in. the night ; my fellow pas sengers 'were sleeping unquietly ; the half fed oil lamps burned dimly in the fetied, unwholesome atmosphere, and I longed to escape from the uncomfortable place to a freer air and less confined quar ters. "Are we near S Y I asked the guard as ho passed. "We left it behind us an hour ago." The words fell with the weight of lead upon my heart. What should I do ! Without any word of chiding for my carelessness, the guard gave me a pass ticket to take me back by the morning train to S . At midnight I found xnys.elf comfortably seated in a neatly furnished ladies' parlor, under the care of a good humored, respectable looking station master. 1 think I always had a happy faculty of looking upon the bright side ot atlairs ; I know, at least, that sitting alone in that strange place, at midnight, notwithstand ine all the doubt and uncertainty that hung around my future, I was still more cheerful than I had been for many weeks. I was free, and that to one who had known all the bitterness of dependence, was an expressible blessing. Thus far every difficulty had but raised me up friend; why should Fnot be powerful for the future I "Take courage heart I" I said. 'The wbrld is all before the where to chose ; be true to thyself and fear nothing ; and try if self-reliance be not the truest hao piness, It was in this mood that I stepped out upon the platform of the station, just as the sun was rising, it was a beautiful scene, and I inhaled fresh and glowing inspiration with every breath of the sweet morning air. In the background was a range of bold, wooded hills, at whose feet xesteu a qniec little village, irorri me cnim- ncysof which columns..' of blue smoke were curling thinly upward in the clear atmosphere. The foreground was nitea by a broad and beautify I river, the rush of , whose waters cam' through the tall pines and chestnuts ich skirted its bank,' softened by the d ance to a inur Hiunug sung wnicu piej still air..1 . . mtly stirred the This is a pretty pluS I said to my self ; "1 should like to tay Here." "What is to hinder VI. said a voice within.' "If you go to your aunt vou vol- untarily resign this freedom which pleas es yon so well : you oeoome again a de pendent t for, let you work as you may. you will' yet be under obligations to her for a home. Besides .she will doubtless subject you ,to t rigid cross-questioning us to the causes of j&out. banishment, . . ' .mi' m m ' Si. which will pa tar tropagreeaoie, to say the tealr: .ii ; I had nothins to ankvir to this reason "bat presant, and, With a half defined H Wttehlj Journal, gcWcir iijftmitiro ' Interests, Jftente, Sriratt, an) purpose in my mind, I took my traveling bag upon my arm and wandered down the road, having first ascertained that the train would not be due under an hour. The course which I had chosen led me directly away from the railroad, up a narrow ravine, through which a small stream found its way to the river below. 1 he rays of the morning sun were shin ing directly down the pass, and, turned aslant by boughs of oak and pine, and waving foliage, made rich green lights' and shadows chase each other over the smooth, velvet sward. Five minutes' walk brought me to a turn in the ravine and the river, and before me lay spread out one of the sweetest pastoral scenes imai The ravine, growing suddenly wider, made room along the water course for ii Droau meuows, which were now waving with the summer harvest ; the gradual slope of the1 hills afforded rich pasturage for a herd of fine looking cattle ; while a range of mountains upon one side, and encircling woods upon the other, shut in the view, and gave to the spot an air of quietude and seclusion which was pre cisely suited to my own frame of mind. Before the door of a neat little farm house, which was the only dwelling in sight, stood a pleasant, motherly looking woman, surrounded by a troop of chick ens and ducks, to whom she was dispens ing, with liberal hand, their morning meal. There was something in her cheery, benevolent countenance, and the clear, full tone in which she addressed her brood of younglings, which attracted me; and leaning over the neat, white paling, which separated the yard from the road, I wished her a good morning and compli mented her upon her poultry. I was not disappointed in obtaining ai good., najtucd reply, and after a fewhdifferent remarks. I asked her if I could obtain a breakfast there. She looked "at me for the first time with that suspicious glance with which women are wont to regard a lonely won- derer of their own sex. Ijried to look unconcious and to command my color, and I think I tolerably succeeded. "Have you travlled far this morning ?" she asked. "Only from the station below," I re plied. -"I came up from the city in the express last night, and finding myself obliged to remain here some time to wait for a train, I rtrolled out for a walk ; and your place looks so inviting lhal I ventured to ask it 1 might take breakiast with you." This well-timed compliment, aided, perhaps, by the hearty, sincere tone in which it was uttered, restored the good woman to her complacency, and she im mediately invited me into a clean well arranged kitchen, where a table was bountifully spread for the morning re past. The worthy farmer soon entered, fol lowed by his two sons the one a young man grown, and the other a lad of fifteen or sixteen, and two or three laborers ; and having learned from his wife the little which she knew of me, welcomed me to bis board with a franknes and hospitality which I could not but admire. I liked the place, and there were indi cations of sound ' sense and warmth -of heart among the people, which commend ed them at once to my respect. 1 was as poor as they were, and setting aside a lew boarding school accomplishments perhaps no better educated. I had a na tural and instinctive love for the free, un conventional life of the country, and I dreaded to go back into such society from which 1 had fled, where my condition could not but make me the subject of dis agreable remarks. Why should I not make an effort to remain where 1 was 1" Do you ever take boarders t" I ask ed of the farmer s wife, as we lingered chatting over our last cup of coffee, after the men had left. "My errand, in this part of the country is to obtain board for the summer. I expected to go to S , where I have relatives, but the train brought me farther than I intended : and I like your place so much that I would willingly remain here, if you could ac commodate me. The frank and cheery tone in which I spoke was not at all natural .under my circumstances, but it was so well affect ed that my hostess did not notice the difference: She looked surprised for a moment, ami men replied 'We never have kept borders, but it u so lonesome here that I nave sometimes thought I would like to have some wo . (t sit man in the lamny, i n see what my husband says, and, if he's agreeable, I would not mind having ye stay that is, if you think you can pqt up with plain farmer s fare. - I assured her that this was precisely what I desired ; and the farmer having been called, in and a . price agreed upon, the business was soon settled. , '.'Yours baggage is not here, I sup pose I", said Mr. Colesworth. : i ,' .. The question caused mean inBlant's STEUBENVILLE, OHIO, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1857, discomposure. I rallied immediately however, and replied "I shall go for it to-day." This answer was perfectly satisfactory, and, biding my new friends farewell I returned to the station, and took the next train for the nearest town, in order to procure such things as I needed, taking care to provide myself with a small trunk to bring them home in. CHAPTER III. My life of independence was now fair ly commenced, or, rather, I hzi plunged into the waters. I must strike out boldly now, and persevere in my efforts, or sink into hopeless depths. Retireing that night early to my room, I pondered ovei all my gifts, and attainments, striving to know which I could render available. I might have taught pupils, perhaps, but whence were they to come in this soli tary place ? I was acquainted with mu sic, but there was scarcely a piano within miles. But my drawing there lay some hope. While in the town that day, I had entered a stationer's shop, and had notic ed drawings in India ink and paintings in water colors, for which the shop-keeper told me he found ready sale at remunera tive prices, These specimens of art I was confident I could equal, if not exceed, and, although it had not occurred to me at the time, I now- decided at once to commence an effort in that direction. The history of my first successes I need not trace. Suffice it, that before my purse was completely emptied, it had been replenished with money of my own earning ; also, rejocing in the conscious ness that henceforth I was, by the bless ing of God, equal to my own necssities. All the luxury of my former life would not have given me that one sweet conso lation. Busy as I made myself with sewing and drawing, I never continued my labors after four o clock. 1 he cool of the alter noon I gave to rest and recreation, and rambles in the woods, whence I gathered many of the originals for my paintings and to Ion? and pleasant conversation with Mrs. Colesworlh, whom I found to be a simple hearted and affectionate, as well as shrewd and intelligent woman. She had .early learned that there was something in my history which I desired to conceal, and free and cordial as was our daily intercourse, she never annoyed me by the most distant or indirect allu sions to it. I had been some weeks domesticated at Valley Farm, when, one fine afternoon, coming in from the woodlands with an apron lull of flowers, of which I designed making boquets for our little sitting room, 1 seated myself upon the front doorstep, in order to puruse my work of arrange ment. Just in the midst of the process, I was startled by footsteps, and looking saw Varick Colesworlh, the eldest son of my host; he had paused and was watch ing with some interest the progress of my work. Isn't that pretty !" I asked, holding up the half finished bouquet. "Yes, beautiful : but that is prettier," and taking up a long sprig of the deli cate white clemali, he twined it careless: ly round my head, and stepped back to witness the effect of the ornament. "Which do you mean to compliment!" said 1, laughing gaily ; "the flonr, or the head it encircles f He only answered me by'a quiet, sig nificant smile, tba insinuated flattery of which pleased me no nore than the sad' ness in which it closed piqued my interest, Resuming his bantering tone, however, he replied evasively 1 think if you could stand where do, and paint the picture that I am look ing upon, it would sell for a better price than your whole portlolia besides. tie was turning away, when suddenly, as if just remembering it, he drew a let ter from his pocket. " Is this for you," said he. It was directed "Paulina Athcrlon" for by that name since my mother's mar riage had I been known. The handwriting was familiar to me, and that together with the embarrassment of seeming to have changed my name caused my face to flush in a manner that might justify unpleasant suspicions in an; but a kind hearted observer. As I too the letter, however, I hastened to say " Atherton is the name of my stepfather ana my irienus oiien lorgei uie aisuncuon But how did this letter nnd you I ' " It came into my father's box at the post office, to-day ; you see it is directed to his care." Truly it was ; my retreat was then known to Howard Atherton ! What should I do T Holding the letter in my hand, for I dared not open it, I looked up to Varick imploringly. 1 could not speak It was unreasonable that he could help no J yet looking upon his tall, muscular frame, recognising the pride and' manly dignity which were expressed in every line of his form, and meeting the kind promoting glance of his soft blue eyes one could not help trusting him. " Verrick," said I ; and I hesitated for how should I ask him for sympathy or assistance, when the cause of all my trouble be did not understand 1 To his quick perceptions, however, that word was enough. " faulina," said he kindly, " in what ever trouble you may 'find yourself, re member 1 am always jour friend, and hastily away, he left me. I carried the letter, still unopened, to my own room. Sitting down by the win dow I studied it minutely ; the post mark, the address, the very envelope itself, a pe culiar shade of green, stamped with the well known initials in cypher, were all familiar to me. I looked last at the seal ; the wax was precisely similar to that which both he and I were accustomed to use, and the peal itself was the impress of one, the exact counterpart of which now lay in my casket his gift, three years ago. Looking upon that seal, an idea flashed into my mind. Lighting a lamp, I carefully unsealed the lettc'r, disturbing the wax as little as possible, and with a palpittaing heart I drew forth the two thickly covered sheets. My emotions as I traced the familiar characters. I will not pretend to describe. What I was most eager to know, was, how he had discovered my retreat, and this he speedily informed me. The let ter began thus: My dear Linda, for such you are, and always will be, despite your scorn, and this most cruel desertion I cannot tell you with what rapture my heart throbs as I once more address you Returning yester day from Glen Park, the dearest spot on earth to me, because : most closely linked with the memory of my lost angel, my own dear Paulina, I passed through h "Looking casually into the window of. Mr. vvh te. the stationer, my eye was in stantly rivited by a drawing which could have been traced by no hand but yours. Paulena, I know I need not tell you what was the scene represented, or how it thrilled my heart to know lliat, even m your self-imposed exue, your inougnts uo hover arouud the oeiovea scenes ot our youth ; that for hours, nay days for that drawing was never accomplished at one sitting ; the thought of one so dear to you, had lingered in your neart, una voiuniarny been cherished there." Well," was my first exclamation, "I must be more careful ; Mr. White must be cautioned asainst giving my address to strangers in this way ;" and then I sat for a momeut musing. I did not know the picture well, and l bitterly repented the folly which had ever ed me to commit such a memory to pa- per. It was a little thing merely a garuen bower, loaded with fragrant honeysucle and wild roses, a little lady with an arch- ookinjr face, twirling a branch ot roses playfully over bead, and a gentleman, clad in a picturesque hunting suit, kneel ing at Iter leet, and looking pleadingly up into her face. I cannot analyze the feel ing which had led me to reproduce this scene. I had taken a strange pleasure in doing it, but I never reckoned such con sequences to my folly. I finished the perusal of the letter. It afforded me all the information I de sired, and I had no wish to become more familiar with its contents. Carefully re sealincr it. therefore, with the same stamp which had beed previously used, ami ta king care, by the application of a Kiltie fresh wax. to cover all traces ot opening, I called from the window to Varick, who was at work in a held near by. "Varick," I said," will you come here a moment I " Certainly," was the cheerful reply, and he bounded over a fence, and presen cd himself at the open window. " What can I do for you, Miss rau- Una?" " You haven't told any one about the letter, have vou ?" I knew he was the soul of discretion. , j "No." " Please don't say anything about it, then t but when you go to the village again I wish you to take it to the office, and say tnere is no person oi mat name residing here, which is simply the truth." He looked at me with a glance which it was difficult to interpret, and as he took the letter, bowed silently. And Varick," I continued," I believe the post-master is a particular friend o yours, is he not? "We are now quite intimate." So I thought. Do you suppose any one should make any inquiries at the office about that letter that you could find it out and tell me I ' "Certainly. I'll just ask Joel in a care less way, to watch and see what becomes of the letter, as I don t know ot any such individual ; and if there has a new family moved into the neighbourhood, we should like to find out something shout them.' ." Thank you ; that is all, except that I cannot tell you how great a service you are doing me. . It is very pleasant to be able to rely upon your discretion. . Varick was one whose feelings seldom found voice in words, but his eyes were doubly eloquent of them. . Since the day I had entered the house, he had been quick to notice all my wants, and prompt ! to supply them,' and often, as 1 tripped & gaily about the house, looping up a cur tain here, shaking up the sola cushions there, or arranging the flowers for the ta ble, I had noticed that his eyes rested ad miringly upon uie. 1 be attentions, how ever, 1 had received as my due, as a stranger in the household ; and the flat tery which a giance may express was not so new to me, as to awaken sensation, ex cept a slight feeling of gratified vanity. bo Varick and I were good friends, and I thought no farther. CHAPTER IV. Perhaps, of the two, I was fonder of music than of drawing ; and at first I had felt the loss of my piano more than that of any other article of luxury to which I had been accustomed. With the help of Mr. White, however, l'had disposed of one or two articles of jewellry and pur chased a guitar with tire proceeds, and many a pleasant evening did I spend that autumn, silting beneath a, tall tree which grew near the house, singing the sweet songs I had learned long ago. One even ming for no other reason than because it was an old favourite I commenced singing the following song : Ah 1 for wings to soar O'er the dark bluo sea, Speeding from this exile shore, To live and die with thee. As I finished the first verse, I was some what startled by the sound of a deep and very musical bass voice, which chimed in with the 80112. At first my own tones trembled a little, but soon gaining confi Jence from the rich strong cadences which seemed to support my own, my voice grew fuller and clearer, and I was concious that I had never sung better in my life. Ah! for some seabird's buoyant wing, To bear rae homo to thee, repeated Varick, at the close of the last verse. " Do you often wish such wishes, Paulina !" "Never! was my reply. I did not sine the song as expressive of my own feeling. Home is in tne nearis oi tnose who love us, and 1 know no truer menus than those within the sound of my voice; consequently I am perfectly content with my present situation ; so cunieui, iiiuceu, that I have iusl made arangements with your mother to spend the winter here." continued. A Strange Adventure. In the summer of 1815, 1 was travel inc on baseness in the western part oi ... . . r ennessee. That portion oi me state which lies between the Tennessee and Mississippi was at that time a wild dreary forest. No roads nothing but horse paths through the woods, and the only marks to guid the traveler upon his jour ney were the "blazes" and "notches on the trees. I was dressed in the true backwoods fashion, and I rode a firey mustang with a mane and tail as white as snow, a beautiful arched neck, and eye ike an eagle. He was a perfect beauty, and as fleet as the wind. Across his back I threw a pair of saddle-bags con taininsr in one side a dozen "pones ol corn bread and a piece'tof bacon, and to balance them there was a "pile of rocks in the other end in the shape of two thousand dollars in gold, which 1 had collected, and was transporting them to a bank in Kentucky, to be disposed of for Eastern exchange. Two large wooden stirrups hung dangling from my saddle, and the holsters in front contained two beauties, .in the sh Ape of enormous pistols Over these, to keep them dry, were the squirrel skin covers. I had been riding for several hours, swimming the rivers that crossed my path snuffing in the rich perfume of the forest flowers, watching the squirrels playing about in the tree tops, and listening to the music which issued from the throats of thousands of bright winged songsters with which the woods abounded. 1 had not seen a solitary human being since morning, and night was rapidly approach ing ; indeed it had already began to grow dark, and I had made up my mind that I would have to "camp out ' for the night I was looking about to select good place, when 1 saw two men ap proaching me on horseback. 1 hey were rough looking fellows diessed in hunting shirts, and with squirrel skin caps on their heads. I did not like their looks, and unseen by them, I drew up my pistols, and cocked tnem, repiacea inem in mo KO of nra anil oatinflr mv 0VA forward 8a w one of the men make a motion I did not like. I resoloved that if they proved to be what 1 suspected, i would give them a hard fight, and die bravely. "Pshaw 1 what a fool I was !" though I, as they' rode up and bade me good eveninz. We conversed, for a. minute when one of them said : , "My youngster, what have you got in your saddle-bags that rattles so." , "Nails," I replied. . "Nails." said he. "Eh. Bill let's ex amine the article and see t" and he caught hold of my horse by the bit.. 5 , Quick as lightning I drew my pisto and pointing a muzzle to each of their hearts, said : SI N General Intelligent. "Gentlemen, make a motion to draw that motion seals your a weapon, and fate!" They were completely taken by sur prise and wheeling their horses aroand, struck into the forest. After getting a few rods,off,one raised his fist in a threat ening attitude. I drew the trigger of my right hand pistol, and the villian's arm fell upon the saddle: and uttering a yell of agony, they darted off into the woods. 1 reloaded my pistol, struck my spurs in to my horse's sides, and after ten miles of the fastest riding I ever experienced, reached a log house, where 1 put up for the night. Two years after the incident just noted took place, I was traveling down the Mississippi on an old fashioned boat when my attention was attracted to an individ ual on board whom I thought I had met before, but where I could not tell. I was determined to follow him up, and seo if I could not call to mind where we had met, and under what circumstances. At last I found opportunity to look at him as he was seated on an old barrel head earnestly engaged in a game of "seven up. 1 stepped up, and looking over his shoulder, perceived tbattwo fingers of his right hand were missing, the game progressed until, in an excited moment, he arose and shaking his fist in the face of his opponent, in answer to some re mark of the latter concerning the game, exclaimed : " I swear you lie I" I placed my hand upon his shoulder and turned him around : "Ah 1 ha 1 exclaimed I, "we ve met before 1" Lifting his maimed hand, his face turn ed as white as a sheet, and hoarse with passion, he vociferated : "Yes we have met before, in the woods of Tennessee, and I have sworn that you shall die 1 Take that !" - And the wretch attempted to draw a pistol from his. coat, but the trigger caught on the ragged lining of his pocket, went off, and he rolled over into the muddy waters of the Mississippi, a corpse 1 (Life in the West. JL Genuine Hoop Item An Incident off the lourtn At reel Promenade. A few days since one of our city belles was passing through Fourth street, escor ted by a gallant, when, to her great an noyance, her crinoline began to exhibit as many crotches as she ever had in all er life. Her dress would not move gracefully, or indeed at all. Something must be decidedly wrong, and was. One of the gentle lady's hoops had broken, and being of metal, fettered her move ments completely. iftShe could not walk. Her gallant offered to do anything. She declared he could do nothing. The treacherous hoop, to her infinite horror, was coiling about ono of her deli cate limbs.just where an embroidered gar. ter congned her silken hose. Closer and closer the wire wrapped itself, as if it were enemored of what it touched. The ady could not stir, but trembling between fear and expectation stretched out her daintily-kidded hands, imploringy, and said : "O dear ; what shall 1 do t" Her gallant knew there was no time to be lost a crowd would soon gather desperate diseases require desperate reme dies. He lifted the lovely girl therefore in his arms, and, placing her upon a stone step, proceeded as delibeiarely as possi ble to remove the hoop. What are you going to do!" 'Remove the hoop if possible." "Well" "Well" "Quick, then." "I begin." And the lavender-colored gaiter, quite ike Blanche Armory's, was visible, and the delicious'v turned ankle, and the beautiful swell of her faultless stocking, and the hoop was removed. Many roses bloomed, and died, and bloomed again, as she went home upon the arm of her escort through the gay street and the golden sunshine, and of what both must have thought, there was a profound and solemn silence. Miss , it has been observed, has not worn hoops since that half fortunate and half unfortunate day. Cm. Com. Death of Thomas Dick, LL. D. The last steamer brings the news of the death of Dr. homas Dick, the author of the Christian Philosopher, which event occurred at his residence in Brough- ty Ferry, on the banks of the Tay, Scot land, where, says live Dundee Warder, he had lived for the long period ot over thirty vears. auictly prosecuting his as tronomical studios, engaged in the labors of an unostentatious bebeolence, and en- iovinrr the warm respect of all around him. Recently be suffered the loss of two grandchildren, and never thoroughly reosvered the blow which he had thus sustained. Dr. Dick had attained the ripe old age of eighty-three. . He was thriee married, and leaves a widow. Dr. Dick has always been much esteemed in the religious world, for bis valuable con tributions to religious literature nnd to science. G L.E CO P I E S FIVE CENTS. VOL. SV-5UMBER 38. Occupation. What a glorious thing , it is for the human heart Those who work hard seldom yield themselves en-' lirely up to the fancied or real sorrow. When grief sits down, folds its hands, and mournfully feeds upon its own tears, . weaving the dim shadows, that a little exertion might sweep away, into a funeral ' pall, the strong spirit is shorn of its might, and sorrow becomes our master. When troubles flow upon you, dark and heavy, toil not with tho waves wrestle not with the torrent rather seek, by occupa tion, to divert the dark waters that threat- en to overwelin you, into aj thousand channels which the duties of life always present. Before you dream of it, those waters will fertilize the present, aud give birth to fresh "flowers that they may brighten the future flowers that will becomo pure and holy, in the. sunshine which penetrates to the path of duty, in spite of every obstacle. Grief, after all is but a selfish feeling ; and most selfish is the man who yields himsell to the in dulgence of a passion which brings no joy to his fellowmen. Receipt to Prevent Sabbath Visit ors. A Sabbath keeping man emigrated West, and located in Ohio, when there were no religious privilages here. On the. first Sabbath, some half a dozen men in' the settlement, as it was a leisure day, called to express their kind feeling and '. bid him welcome. He had a heart to ap preciate their kindness; but as soon as these amiable congratulations had been exchanged, he told them he understood there was no meeting in the neighborhood, and as there was so many of them togeth er, he proposed that they should read a few chapters in the Bible. He handed each of them a Bible . and they all read around, a verse each,- remarking occa- -sionally upon a text; and when they had thus read a few chapters they repeated their good wishes and loft; and though they were afterwards still kind neighbors they never disturbed him again on the Sabbath. Other People's Business Club. A gossiping Club is said to have been form ed down east for the purpose of more ef fectually ascertaining the business of oth er people generally. It lias already attained a large membership, and promi ses to become a flourishing institution.-- , The following are some of its rules : Any member of the society who shall be convicted of knowing more of his own business than of any other's shall be ex pelled from the society without a hearing. No member shall sit down to his own table until he has ascertained to a cer tainty what his neighbors within three doors of each side of his house shail have to eat ; whither they have paid for the same, and, if not, if they expect to. fcvery member who shall see two or three persons engaged in conversation, shall place himself between them until he has heard all they have to say, and report the same accordingly. Lvery gentleman visiting a young lady more than twice, shall circulate the news that they are going to be married, and said members are required to report all ' manner of things about the lady to the ' gentleman. This will break up matches, and afford much gossip. ST Our friend Bausman of the wash ington, (Pa.) Tribune is publishing an interesting history of the life of "Peter " Pluckem,v together with scraps from the V lives of other distinguished villians in Wahington County. , "Peter Pluckem," we understand is another name for William Montgomery, the Border Ruffian member of Congress, elect, from that District, and if one fourth is true, (it is all true we have no doubt,) ' Montgomery is certainly one of the most depraved, degraded, beaetly wretches that : ever went unhung, and tne orew of paris ites that hang to his skirls would disgrace the vilest denizens of the penitentiary. ' It has always been a matter of surprise to ; us that a man of Montgomery'$ charac- . ter and antecedents can recieve the sup- : port of any people or party for a high and 4 responsible office. He is a fit champion ' of a parly, however that has cherished and honored Bully Brookt, Ruffian Kcitt, and the murderer Herbert. Monteom- ery'i first acts on entering public life were V ot sucn a nature mat noimng our one w , Governor Porter's "previous pardons", saved his Baton from incarceration. Erie Constitution. ' ' Thb lAte Railroad Accipent PniL r adelnua, Sept. 8. The cause of tho recent collision on the Camden and At-; lantio Railroad is traced by evidence be ' fore the Coroner's jury, to the neglect and disregard of duty by Robert M. Tut- -tie, the conductor of the freight train. The verdict, censures the, Company , through, Superintendent Wm. Marshall,; for not being particular in, enforcing the' tims tales. It also cenr.ores Brooks, the , engineer of the freight train. 7 Tuttle and v Brooks are under arrest on a charge of manslaughter. ' . , ... !